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Diamond Took, formally of Long Cleeve sat reading when her son toddled in and climbed into her lap.
“Mummy, tell me a story?” Faramir asked.
“And what would you like to hear?”
“Tell me about daddy’s adventure?”
Diamond hugged her child close. “Would you like to hear about The Three Wise Hobbits… And your father?”
“Yes please!” Faramir enthused, snuggling down.
Diamond always told her son different stories. One day, when he was older, He would learn the truth about Pippin’s adventures. For now, her little child deserved happy children’s tales. She snuggled her son and began the story…
A curious thing happened as Mr Meriadoc Brandybuck was locking up the museum. Librarian and Museum curator had been easy enough work for him.
Until the fateful night, the curtains fell from the high window of the Museum and streamed bright moonlight directly onto the star maps of The Wandering Days. The moonlight revealed something no living memory had witnessed. Written on the maps, in some foreign script, were secret letters.
“Mr Sam?” Merry queried of the gardener, who was watering the museum’s plants. “What do you make of these runes, the moon has revealed?”
“They’d be Moon runes, make no mistake, Mr Merry.” Mr Sam replied. “In Elvish no less.”
“Elvish? Do you read Elvish?”
“No sir, Mr Merry sir. I seen ‘em in Mr Bilbo’s book, before he went off on another adventure, sir.”
“So Mr Bilbo read them?”
“Aye sir, and Mr Frodo too.”
“Could you please fetch Mr Frodo for me?”
“Right away, sir!” Mr Samwise Gamgee ran off immediately.
While he was gone, Merry used his impressive Librarian skills to copy down the runes he could see. It was a good thing he did too, as the moon moved behind a cloud and the writing was lost. Just then, Mr Sam returned with Mr Frodo Baggins. Mr Frodo was a gentleman, and apparently Elven scholar. Merry’s cousin Peregrin Took-called Pippin by all-had tagged along insisting they smelled of adventure.
Mr Frodo looked at the writing Merry had copied down.
“I’m not entirely certain of my translation,” admitted Mr Frodo. “I believe it mentions the heir of The Last Elven king.”
“High-king Gil-Galad?” Mr Sam was awed. “From the ballad?”
“Gil-Galad was an elven king, of him the harpers sadly sing.” He began.
Mr Merry interrupted him “Perhaps the song can wait until we’ve solved this riddle?”
“Beggin’ your pardon Mr Merry sir, but what riddle?” Sam seemed a little confused to the meaning of the secret runes.
“This lost heir of the elves!” Mr Pippin squeaked. “An adventure!”
“I’m not as fluent as my uncle. He would be able to help us. Perhaps we should go see the elves in Rivendell. That may be able to tells us more about the lost heir of the high-king.”
“The Elves!” Mr Sam sighed. “I’ve always wanted to see elves.”
“I’ve heard the elves produce the best mushrooms! I’m coming too!” Pippin was most insistent.
So, they packed their things as headed off on an adventure. The Shire folk would talk, but then they always did when Hobbits went a wandering. Mr Bilbo Baggins was still spoken of, on account of going on two adventures!
They stopped in Bree, at the Prancing Pony, with Mr Frodo pulling out the papers to attempt further translation. Mr Sam sat with him, hoping to learn something more about Elves.
Mr Merry could be a serious Hobbit, when the job required it. But there was nothing he liked better than a nice beer in a warm pub. Had he known of the portions they served in Bree, he may have come sooner.
“What’s that!” Pippin demanded.
“This, is a pint.” Merry replied gleefully.
“I’m getting’ one!” Pippin declared loudly and scampered to the bar.
A tall big foot, in a deep hooded cloak wandered over and read over Mr Frodo’s shoulder.
“Those are some interesting runes, Mr Hobbit. Would you like a translation?”
“Oi Long shanks!” Mr Sam cried out, startled.
Frodo shuffled the papers out of view. He was reluctant to show the stranger the notes.
Pippin returned with his pint. “We’re looking for the lost heir, if you must know.”
“Pippin!” Mr Merry snapped. “Must you tell everyone who asks?”
“I am the lost heir,” declared the man. “They call me Aragorn, son of Arathorn.”
Frodo thought about it.
“Mr Gandalf used to have a poem. Renewed shall be the blade that was broken, The Crownless again shall be king.”
He thought some more. “The king should have a broken sword.” He concluded.
Aragorn frowned and pulled his sword out of its hilt. It was definitely a broken sword.
“Will this serve as proof?”
“Beggin’ your pardon sir, but we mean of the elves. And you don’t seem very elvish, sir. Hobbits ain’t known a lot of the big foots beyond Bree.”
Aragorn sighed and sat down with them. “Do you mean to go to Rivendell, to ask the elves?”
“Aye, sir. We do sir.”
“Then I shall be your guide.”
The matter was decided. The Hobbits just looked at each other awkwardly.
Aragorn, son of Arathorn proved to be a good guide. Mr Sam was most impressed with his ability to catch coneys. Pippin provided a few mushrooms from his pockets.
The journey was overall quite pleasant. Merry and Pippin told the others about possible dark creatures and hidden places that they might find on an adventure. The most interesting thing that happened was having nice, crispy bacon on a mesa that Aragorn called Weathertop.
They arrived in Rivendell without much incident. Although Mr Frodo had gotten a chill and needed to go to bed for a few days. When he recovered, he swore he saw the river flood and wash away the dark creatures Merry and Pippin had created.
Mr Sam agreed it would make a great story. Far more interesting than what really happened.
Aragorn arranged an audience with Lord Elrond, to discuss the runes.
Mr Frodo was chosen as their speaker, for knowing a little elvish. It turned out Lord Elrond spoke the common tongue and there was no need for an interpreter.
Lord Elrond nodded solemnly as Mr Frodo, assisted by Mr Sam, spoke of Gil-Galad and the possible secret heir they had discovered reference to in The Shire.
The Lord seemed most venerable as he considered their words.
“You are aware that the High-king was unmarried and had no children?” He concluded, finally.
Mr Merry nodded. “Perhaps he followed the hobbit tradition of running off to get married and showing up years later with a child and a wife?”
“I do not recall anything close to this event you have described.”
“Did you know him?” Pippin asked, forgetting his manners and pushing past Merry.
“I was his herald for some time, so yes. I do not believe there is a lost heir.”
Pippin sighed, exasperated. “But what about the letters that appeared in the moonlight?”
The Lord was clearly confused.
Mr Merry pushed Pippin back again. “Forgive us, my lord. There were letters written on our ancient star maps. Elvish, we think. They only appeared in the light of the moon.”
Lord Elrond smiled kindly at them. “Moon runes. I love moon runes. Do you have the maps?”
“No, my lord. We left them secret and safe in The Shire.” Mr Frodo offered. “But Mr Merry thought to copy what he could before we lost the moonlight.” He handed over the transcription.
Lord Elrond took the papers and turned to study them. He concentrated on the writing, frowning slightly.
“There are some who would not deem it wise to continue this quest.” He finally stated.
“But it was on our history maps! This heir must have been important to hobbits!” Mr Pippin stated, over Mr Merry’s shoulder.
Mr Sam frowned at Pippin. “Surely an Elf king would be a friend to all, beggin’ your pardon my lord.”
Mr Merry sighed and bowed slightly. “We should try to find this heir, if he exists. Our ancestors thought enough of him to mention him.”
Mr Frodo glared at him. He wanted to go home and get in his nice, cosy bed. Not that the beds weren’t cosy in Rivendell. They just were not his bed.
The lord looked them over. “If you insist, then perhaps The Lady of Lothlórien can help. She has a phial, that contains the light of our most precious star. It is a light in dark places and a guide on the path to finding this possible heir.”
He turned to his desk and started to pen a letter. Pippin poked his head over the lord’s shoulder to see it. Lord Elrond paused in his writing and then continued penning a letter of introduction to the border guards of Lothlórien.
“Fool of a Took!” a booming voice declared. The old man Gandalf, who told stories and brought fireworks to celebrations, was sitting by the unlit fireplace.
Pippin started and returned to the other Hobbits.
“Gandalf.” Mr Merry whispered, quiet awe in his voice.
Lord Elrond did not lookup from his letter writing.
“I am sending them to Lothlórien.” He did not even look up from his letter. “To ask the Lady of Lórien for her phial.”
“Are you indeed?” Gandalf seemed far more amused than even Mr Frodo expected.
“I expect they stall need a guide then.”
“We have a guide.” Sam stated, “but we’d be much pleased if you joined our little fellowship.”
Gandalf agreed to go with them. There were stories about him, for as long as there had been a Shire. Sam always assumed fireworks was a family business, the same way he’d learned gardening from his gaffer.
Aragorn already decided he was going with them. Gandalf was a great guide, but a terrible hunter. They would need to catch food for the journey. A friend of Aragorn, who happened to be in Rivendell, also joined them. When asked how he knew Aragorn by a curious Pippin, Boromir replied “We are men of Gondor.”
Then Boromir insisted on coming, as he was going in the same direction any way.
Settting off on their adventure, Pippin felt that there should have been more to an adventure than just walking. He felt that perhaps if Mr Bilbo or Mr Frodo were writing a book, then something exciting should happen.
Yet if this particular adventure had been written down, it would have been called nothing more than the walking book.
They occupied their time with singing and telling the stories that Mr Bilbo had brought back with him. They made sure to follow the stars, just as Hobbits had of old.
Boromir entertained them when they rested, teaching them the sword. It was Pippin who excelled at the lessons, surprising the other Hobbits.
“Keep that up Pip, and you’ll end up Shire-thain.” Merry quipped. He didn’t really expect anything of his cousin, other than trouble from farmer Maggot.
They reached the forest of Lothlórien without much more than dark stories about ruins with giant monsters made of Shadow and fire. Pippin had added a tentacle monster too. Their story needed more adventure, he insisted.
“This is where I leave you.” Boromir bowed. “I need to meet my brother, Faramir.”
“Faramir. That’s a good name.” Pippin replied.
“I shall tell my brother you said so, master hobbit.” He ruffled Pippin’s hair. Pippin allowed this, but still looked like he was going to kick Boromir in the shin for it.
The Elves at the gate accepted Lord Elrond’s letter and escorted them to the capital, Caras Galadhon. It was nothing like the Hobbits expected. The Elves lived in tree houses, not Hobbit holes. Frodo wondered how they did not get dizzy and fall out.
Aragorn took them directly to meet The Lady. She greeted them, as her husband took Gandalf aside to speak with him.
“And what quest brings you here?” her voice was commanding, and a little scary.
“The Lord of Rivendell sent us to you, my lady.” Mr Merry replied, bowing low.
Frodo also bowed. “He requested use of the Phial from your gracious self?”
Her start eyes turned on Frodo and he heard her voice in his head. “Greetings Frodo, reader of the runes. What do you gain by finding the heir?”
Frodo was struck dumb by it.
She looked at them all in turn, each Hobbit feeling a question in their mind. Pippin flinched away from his, but would not speak of it later.
“I will grant you this gift. Rest well. You are safe here. When you return to Rivendell, you may take lend of my phial for Lord Elrond to discover this secret heir.”
The phial flashed briefly as Galadriel handed it to Frodo. “May it be a light in the darkness.”
Mr Sam bowed politely. “Well Mr Lord Elrond asked for it. I’m sure Rivendell has no such darkness, mam.”
She gave an enigmatic smile.
The Hobbits spent a few days enjoying the kindness of the elves. Pippin ate more Lembas bread than he should have, though this only amused Merry.
If was only as they were readying to leave did they find that Gandalf was not with them.
“This is where I leave you Frodo. I have business with my old friend Treebeard.” Gandalf sighed.
“That’s a curious name.”
“Not so curious when you learn that Treebeard is an Ent, A tree shepherd.”
“A tree shepherd!” Merry exclaimed, eves-dropping. “I’ve heard of those.”
“Then perhaps one day you shall meet one.”
“But it is not this day.” Aragorn stated, joining them. “You need to complete the quest Lord Elrond sent you on.”
Frodo and Merry nodded.
Aragorn decided to stay in Lothlórien. Merry suspected it was because of the pretty elf he had spied the man walking with. She had dark hair, and looked like Lord Elrond.
Instead of coming, Aragorn introduced them to two guides for their return journey.
Mr Sam was disappointed. Neither looked like they could catch one coney.
Frodo frowned at Sam. “Well, I think they good like pleasant additions to our fellowship, at least.”
Legolas smiled at him. “You have my bow.” He bowed to Mr Frodo.
“And my axe, laddie.” Gimli the dwarf added.
“I think we’ll do well Sam.” Frodo chastised him.
“As you say Mr Frodo.”
So, the Three Wise Hobbits, Pippin, Legolas and Gimli started their journey back to Rivendell to deliver Galadriel’s phial to Lord Elrond so they could discover who High-king Gil-Galad’s heir was.
Legolas did indeed prove to be a good companion and caught many coneys. Gimli’s axe proved useful in the form of cutting down the fallen wood they found. After Gandalf mentioned tree shepherds, none were willing to fell trees.
They passed the boundary of Rivendell on the 25th of December, by Sam’s reckoning of The Shire calendar. Legolas and Gimli quickly said their goodbyes to go exploring in Rivendell. They had told the Hobbits, while travelling, they were on a tour together to see the great Elven and Dwarven monuments. They had already been to the ruins of Moria. Rivendell was one of many places they intended to see together.
The Three Wise Hobbits, with Pippin in tow, met again with Lord Elrond. Frodo proudly offered the Phail of Galadriel, which he had kept safe and close for the entire journey. The phial flashed briefly as Frodo handed it to Lord Elrond. The same way it had flashed when The Lady Galadriel gave it to him.
Lord Elrond studied the phial and then asked to see the writing again. He held the Phial to the parchment and recited the words “Aiya Eärendil elenion ancalima!"
The Phial blazed to bright light. So bright the Hobbits could barely see.
Finally, Lord Elrond lowered the Phial and the light faded. “Without the moon runes, I do not think the heir will be revealed.”
“If only Bilbo had been in the Shire!” Merry exclaimed. “I could’ve had a better translation than mine!”
“Mr Baggins is here.” Lord Elrond offered.
Frodo blinked. “My Uncle!” He had not seen Bilbo in years. Not since he went off on his last adventure.
“Perhaps you should speak with your uncle, Mr Baggins. He has recently returned and may offer you more insight into the writings on Hobbit maps.” Lord Elrond suggested, smiling kindly.
The Hobbits bowed their exit and were directed to the rooms Bilbo was staying.
“Frodo, my boy!” Bilbo greeted. “You’ve brought an entire adventuring party to see me!”
“We’re looking for the lost Elven heir, Mr Bilbo.” Sam supplied.
“Oh! You saw the moon runes on the star maps! And how is the quest going?”
Mr Merry sighed. “Not so well. Lord Elrond says he needs the original maps to translate the Runes and we didn’t bring them.”
“Well perhaps I can assist with that!” Mr Bilbo enthused, getting out his pipe and sitting in a comfortable chair. “I saw them one night, when I was in the museum.”
“You saw the original runes!” Merry was surprised.
“Of course I did! I translated them too.”
“What did they say, uncle?”
Bilbo smiled, lit his pipe and began to tell his story to the Three Hobbits present. Pippin had gone in search of supper for them all.
The next day they met with Lord Elrond again.
“And what was the counsel of your Uncle?” He asked Frodo, serene as ever.
“We think perhaps you were right, My lord.” Mr Frodo stated. “The Elven king had no heir. My uncle translated the runes for us.”
The lord inhaled and then inclined his head slightly. “And what did he say of them?”
“My uncle said it was more likely a metaphor. A story. He said the heir of Gil-Galad could have been everything he left behind.”
Sam nodded, “With the savin’ of us. The runes mean we all inherited the freedom he won us.”
“I am glad that your quest has had a satisfactory ending. Perhaps you can inform Mr Baggins that breakfast will be ready soon?”
The Three Wise Hobbits bowed, then left to find second breakfast with Bilbo and to tell him the stories they made up to add to his book.
Lord Elrond looked at the remaining hobbit. Pippin smiled and bowed low. “Your secret is safe with me, your highness. They’d never believe me anyway.”
Lord Elrond tried not to smile, but he failed. “And how did you know?”
“I saw your name as you wrote it. Merry got it wrong, but it’s close. And the vial flashed brightly when you took it from us.”
Lord Elrond inclined his head. “It appears Mithrandir is correct. Remarkable creatures, hobbits.”
Pippin beamed.
“Now run along, Mr Took. Breakfast awaits.”