By Maikafuiniel
Part1 of the ConversationSeries
It was a dark night. Darker then most in fact, when young Mister Samwise Gamgee woke in the middle of the night from the roots in his back that had continuously plagued him throughout the entire journey. Yes, it had been a pleasure to stay in Rivendell, a city of which could have no match on this fair Earth, but even there the beds were just a tad too soft, and the rooms were just a tad too big. Not at all what he was used to in his Hobbit hole at home. What he wouldn't have given for that Hobbit Hole, and a mushroom pie made by his Gaffer in just his way.
Ah, the Gaffer. How he missed him! One might think it would be a sort of vacation to be rid of the continuous comments and lectures, but as Sam had grown up with such things his entire life, it was hard to forget that they were gone.
There were many things that he missed about his home, yes. Things that he could not even be sure would still be there when he was too return. He could only imagine the look of Mister Frodo and his garden when they would finally be able to return.
But at this time, it was the roots that took his sleep from him, and cramped up his back for the rest of the day.
He tried to turn his body to the left, but to roll that way he would be sure to disturb poor Mister Frodo, who really had only just really begun to heal after the whole Weathertop fiasco. Even though Master Elrond had done what he could, Sam could just not image the scar ever leaving his shoulder.
'Really,' Sam thought to himself with more then a little remorse, 'How did I ever let Mister Pippin and Merry to talk me into cooking for them in the middle of the night! Much as I love my food, as any proper Hobbit should, the middle of the night is no time for a meal. And really, I should have known better. Mister Frodo could have died from what I did, and to be grievously hurt should not have to feel like such a blessing in any matter.'
He trued to roll to the right, but again he couldn't go this way either as he knew that was where Gimli lay, with his axe laid outwards, ready in case he had to jump up from his sleep to defend the Hobbits.
Unfortunately, it made for very deadly sleeping arrangements, and those going to bed would in fact pick straws to see who would have the unlucky chance to sleep near such a dangerous weapon.
'At least Strider keeps his sword in it's case,' the gardener muttered to himself, not knowing what the proper name was for the carrier of such a weapon, nor indeed was he sure that he ever wanted to. Weapons just seemed to not be his cup of tea, as they were for the others.
Left was no option, and neither was the right. And in fact, he had been awake so long now, trying to get into a better position, that he could properly doubt ever getting back to sleep again, let alone the same night as all of his movement!
Slowly he stood up, thinking that maybe he would have the proper luck to find some other spot to sleep. Trying to keep his rustling to a minimum, he stood quietly, though it seemed the leaves would move under him no matter what he did. Holding his breath he saw that no member of the Fellowship would hear him.
He could only hope that Legolas was not awake, as he had only known the Elf for a scant five days and said even less to him in words. It wasn't that he didn't like him, it was just uncomfortable. The tall man had always been bounding on ahead of the group, then running back and running forward again, seemingly with impossible energy that just wouldn't go away.
He had almost never stopped, and talked little but to Strider. And even when he did talk, it was usually in Elven so that only Gandalf and the ranger could hear and understand him.
Sam had always wanted to meet an Elf, and he had in Rivendell. But they had all seemed so very proper. It was hard to start a conversation with one, when you knew that there interests were far outside the realm of food and ale. And, seeing as those were some of the only things that Hobbits like he talked about, there really wasn't much in the way of a conversation between the two.
The young Hobbit bent over, picking his way through the leaves, looking incredibly closely for what might seem to be a suitable spot to sleep. It was hard though, with the dark all encompassing and worse yet the other members of the fellowship laying this way and that.
What he needed more then anything, he decidedly, was light. Light like the two pinpricks coming from the bush…
"What the-"
"Hush Master Gamgee, les we wake the others!"
"Oh! Um… Mr. Greenleaf… sir. Did I wake you?"
He laughed lightly, and the sound seemed to carry on the wind after only a split second of being heard. This was not the type of voice that woke people in the dead of night.
"Of course not. I sleep far less then the others, so have been taking it upon myself to be what your kind might consider to be a night watchmen of sorts. And I'm sorry, did I scare you?"
"Of course not! I just… I'm not normally searching about in the dark and seeing your eyes, so it was really no more then a quick shock, and a new experience is all."
"Hush friend. You speak so loudly!" He laughed quietly, "If we are to speak perhaps we should move. You friends seemed a mite tired when they fell to their beds, and I do not think they would appreciate being woken!"
"Well, yes. You're right of course." Sam turned to him and began to follow, carefully taking large steps to avoid stepping on the grey wizards hat, or worse yet his staff.
Gandalf would make another one, he was sure, and would probably use it too curse him for a hundred years if he did such a thing.
The Elf walked slowly, seeming to let the Hobbit see him in the dark. He mentally thanked the Elf, knowing full well how well one could lose himself in a forest at night.
Eventually he heard the soft babbling of a slow stream, jumping rounded rocks and clumps of leaves. The Elf sat beside the book, crossing his legs like he was to stretch his legs without unbending them. They were high, yet he looked comfy on the soft edge of the brook, and so he stood to the left of him.
"Please Master Gamgee, sit. I would hate to think my being here would hurt your legs. And though you can not sleep your legs need rest too. Sit. Please."
Not having anything to say to that, nor anything he could use to defend his position standing, he sat down carefully and looked at the side of the Elf's face. Shrewdly, and with his eyes squinted to make up for the lack of light, save for what reflected from the moon onto the river, he asked, "And how did you know I couldn't sleep Mister Elf, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I could hear you rustling your bed for some time. What was wrong?"
"Oh… there was a root in my back is all."
"A root?"
"Yes."
"And this would trouble you?"
"Well, yes! It's pointy and sticks straight into your back no matter which way you lay! I just… it's hard to sleep with that kind of thing on your mind."
"Your friends don't seem to mind the roots and leaves at all, and I know that Frodo himself seemed quite keen to lay in them only a few hours ago, and go into a sleep so seemingly comfortable, even I envy him that."
"Well, perhaps it's just my bad luck, but I have always gotten the bed with the roots in it, out here in the forest. I can't say I like it much."
He laughed again, though I could never be quite sure why. He seemed to think everything I said was funny, or perhaps just simple.
"Well, I can't say I would much like to have the most uncomfortable bed either," he said as he looked into the stream, "but I'm sure your luck will improve."
"Well," Sam commented, not wanting the Elf to think he had just been complaining, "I mean, I think it really might just be me. Mister Frodo, Pippin, and Merry, well, I'm sure they all sleep on roots too, seeing as the forest is so full of them. Really, I do think it's just the forest that I don't like."
He didn't laugh at that comment, and the sharpness he looked at me with made me almost want to turn away. A flush rose in my face and I wondered if he could see it.
"You don't like the forest?" He asked me, quietly now, as though something was listening.
"Well… I mean, I love fields. I love growing things, and trees, but out here when it's dark and everything is just everywhere and you can't see where your going… and there are so many things to trip into and run over… Mister Greenleaf, er… sir, I didn't offend you did I? I didn't mean to of course…"
He didn't say anything and turned to the river again, staring at it with intensity that I could only dream about having. I had most definatly offended him now, and thought that another way of conversing would be far better.
"So… umm… where are you from then?"
He sat for a moment, probably contemplating his answer. Or worse yet, weather he should answer at all. Finally, still looking into the water, his soft voice said, "Mirkwood Forest."
"Mirkwood Forest? You're an Wood-Elf? Begging your pardon sir, I thought you were a Rivendell Elf, and I would never have commented as I did if I knew-"
"You're rambling Master Gamgee." He said. And then… he laughed. I knew I was forgiven, but of course still felt simply awful. I had insulted him, his home, and what he probably held the dearest in the world.
"Still… I would never have said anything-"
"Yes. I know. You would have been polite, intelligent, and most of all, a liar."
"Ex… excuse me?"
"There are many types of people on this Earth, and even more types of Elves. Perhaps my greatest love is trees, but in no way do I believe they are the only thing on this Earth to love. There are Elves who enjoy to stay indoors and build with stone you know, elves that love the sea of course, and more besides, though they are hard too find. They have their own names, though I doubt you would remember them when you woke. The Telari, Noldor, Vanya...
"I am not insulted by your lifestyle choices, I merely find them hard to comprehend, being from the forest myself."
"Well, still. I'm-"
"No apologies are necessary."
"Well… okay. Okay, but if I am to ever insult you again, please tell me as I'm not too do it again."
He looked at me strangely again, right into my eyes as though they might have told him more then my mouth ever could. His eyebrows were furrowed deeply, perhaps considering what they were seeing. "Er… Mister Greenleaf?"
"Why do you do that?"
"What?"
"Act as though you are in some sort of diplomacy meeting all the time. To be honest, I thought to leave such things behind me when I left on an adventure such as this! Yet, I've yet to hear you refer to anybody as anything but Mister, or perhaps with a sir on the end. You do most of the cooking, though I'm sure if you asked, anybody would be happy to give you a chance off. Even your master, as he seems to be quite worried about you at times. You clean the dishes when we are done. You seem to be incredibly self conscious about how you act in front of others… why do you do that?"
"I suppose… well, I suppose it is status sir, if nothing else?"
"Status?"
"Well, yes! You see, if you haven't noticed, mostly everybody here is quite important."
"How so?"
"Well, Mister Boromir is the son of the steward of Gondor! I don't know much to say about human customs, but I can honestly know that it is an important position indeed! He may even be in charge one day!
"And Strider, well, Lord Elrond did say he was Aragron, and all about his family. While we were there, I looked it up. He's meant to be a King, and that's an even more important thing to be then a Steward.
"Master Gimli too, is related to some of the very important Dwarves. It's said that his cousin Balin even has caves of his own.
"And then there is you, for the end of the big people in our group. Do you have anybody important in your family? Are you important now, or will you become so one day?"
Legolas laughed, but it was short and shallow. "Mister Gamgee-"
"Yes or no would do Mister Greenleaf, if you don't mind me."
"…Yes."
"You see! So what is it?"
"…I must say young Hobbit, I do not normally find myself so tongue tied. My father, he is King Thranduil, and I am his first born son."
"You see? An important group indeed, I should think."
"But the other Hobbits too, you act the same way. It can not be status there, surely!"
"In fact it is. If you think that we Hobbits are so far behind that we do not have people to charge us-"
"Of course, that is not what I meant, and I apologise. Please, continue."
"Well, you see, Mister Frodo is a Baggins, and though that might not mean much too you, to us Hobbits it does! He is very… special. You see? Because of his uncle mostly. His family is incredibly well to do, as Mister Bilbo brought back so much treasure, and yet so highly thought of that if he were to say 'jump' I have no doubt the world would shake from the movement of the Shire.
"Not only that, but his family is quite well known. Admittedly, not always in the good way, but people do like him, and respect his name, even if they think he might be a little on the strange side. Some call him 'Mad Baggins' but I know that if he was too truly give out a warning to Hobbits, many would follow it."
"What of Merry then?"
"Merry… you see Merry is very, very important too, seeing as his father is the Master of Buckland. His father will one day pass the position to him, and he will be in charge of a very large portion of the shire. It's a very important position indeed."
"Well, yes. But what of the young Peregrin? I have no doubt he wouldn't mind you calling him Pippin, as everybody else does. He seems quite silly, and loves to play. He enjoys his games, and probably is confused really, when you treat him as a king the way you do."
This time it was Sam who laughed, though not loudly. "You know nothing of Hobbits, though you've been with us for five days now. Have you heard nothing?"
"What do you mean?"
"Tell me, yester morning, when we were talking about family, did you hear him mention his sisters?"
"Well, of course, everybody did!"
"Did you hear anybody else mention sisters?"
He stopped at that moment, thinking and looking more confused. "No, but what does that have anything to do with this?"
"Hobbits don't normally have more then two or three children. Some will have four perhaps, but it's not common in the Took family at any rate. Other then his great grandfather, who had many children, there are only to people in his entire family tree that had more then two children, let alone to have four."
"And the young one has many because?"
"Because they're family was desperate for a boy you see, so as many children as they had they couldn't stop until a boy came along. Though I'm sure you wouldn't understand, living in a world so different from my own, the Took family needed a boy child because they are the Thains!"
"Thain?"
Sam laughed again, "Though it is hard to image it, please try. One day that young boy who laughs and plays pranks on whomever he can reach, will be what you and your people consider a king."
"Pippin."
"Yes."
"Will be a… a… King?"
"Well, as I said, we call the position the Thain, but yes. And I'm not quite sure it would be equal. Probably a bit less, as we have a mayor too, but it's the closest position to what Humans and Elves have that I know of. If it makes you feel any better, there are rumours that far back into his family line there are Elves, though I'm not sure if that is true. …It would explain how he comes to be so thin, with all he eats."
The horrified look on Legolas' face was well worth it, and he knew he would be telling bar patrons the story for years. The first truly scared Elf. Mind, if Sam thought about it deeply, it might be more the fact that Pippin might actually Elf in him that scared Legolas.
They sat there for a moment, both deep in thought. Finally Sam yawned deeply, and the Elf looked at him. "Perhaps it is time that we went back to the camp and you slept. I would hate to be the reason for any lingering tiredness in the morn."
"Perhaps you are right. I might even be able to sleep over the root as tired as I am."
But despite both their words they continued to sit there, Legolas looking into the brook and Sam into the ground. "Mister Greenleaf?" Sam finally took the courage to ask, though he wasn't quite sure why he wanted to ask at all.
"Yes Mister Gamgee?" "Why… why are you here?"
"What do you mean?"
"I've been wondering for a while… before we ever got to Rivendell we saw Elves in the forest…"
"Truly?"
"Truly. And, well, Frodo said that they were going to the Grey Havens… and Elrond said that the Elves there were going to the Grey Havens too…"
"Yes?"
"Yes… and I was just wondering… it might seem to be a strange question sir, to be honest."
"Please. I would like to hear it."
"Why aren't you?"
"Why aren't I what?"
"Going. Away I mean, off to the seas and the next world or life or whatever is over there."
"That, like the question I asked you, is a hard thing to understand."
"Try me."
"Well… hundreds of thousands of years ago, when the first Elves came, they came because this land was the most free… the most peaceful and good land of them all. It was truly the home that we wanted, and so we came.
"But over the years and lifetimes of Humans and Ents and Hobbits… we have all grown, and not in good ways.
"You see, an Elf will only ever choose to leave this world under two conditions. When he hear the seagull cry and realize that we need to go back… perhaps natural instinct, I'm not sure, and when we honestly feel that there is no hope left for this world."
"And so… the Elves feel that there is no hope at all?"
"Well, they could leave if it is simply that they no longer want to stat I would suppose, but I've not heard of an Elf to do that. And no, not all Elves feel that it is quite so hopeless yet."
"Like who though? Do you actually know one, or do you simply say these things, hoping to make me feel better about it all?"
"I know of one little Hobbit, quite well in fact. As to who it is… me. I would not be here if I did not feel there was hope left. I must say, it would be what I've heard of… what was it called? …Pointless heroics."
They both sat there again, until Sam said, "Well, I am glad that if there must be an Elf with us, it is one that believes we have a chance of winning. I would think it should be a requirement on a journey such as this."
Both laughed for a short second, and not another word was said as both gathered themselves to set off for their beds. But just as they were entering the camp Legolas put an arm on Sam's arm.
"I do not know much of your status, or the way of Hobbits Mister Gamgee, but I know that any man, no matter his size, who sets it upon himself to bring about as much natural life as possible, even if it is only in his gardens, is a man as tall as me. Please, call me Legolas."
Sam looked at his hand, now being held out for a shake. And so he did. "And please, I would think I should like for you to call me Sam."
To Be Continued