“Anyway, Bilbo has made three rhymes about my family already, and I feel I should reply in kind. “But this Elf has had very little gossip of any kind for a very long time, and yours sounds most exotic and exciting!” Maglor looked down at him and grinned. “The small doings of the Shire, and Lobelia in particular, don’t seem like the sort of things that usually interest Elves!” “Would you really?” Frodo asked in obvious surprise. Would you tell me more of the Shire? I’d like to hear more of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.” And carrying plenty of it with us, too,” Maglor said, uncomfortable. “Well, no, but then we were in darkness anyway, chasing greater darkness ahead.
“Not a bright journey’s end for you, going in the other direction,” Frodo observed. “Hard to leave home behind, even if the journey’s end is bright,” Maglor said. I expect they will be well enough, but still, I miss the gossip!” I wonder how things are going in the Shire. The Brandywine goes a thick, solid brown in the autumn, once the rain gets going.
#AIYA EARENDIL ELENION ANCALIMA FULL#
If you see waves in a river at all, it’s always full of mud. I didn’t realise that waves could be so large, and clear all the way through, like hills of glass. “I had never seen the sea before then, except in dreams. “I am glad we made the crossing before the autumn winds blew up,” Frodo agreed. “I think they call them porpoises,” he said. Maglor stood up from where he had been sitting on a wave-worn grey rock, harp in hand, and looked out too. “Is there something swimming in the water by that boat? Is it an animal?” “Look!” Frodo said, peering at the waves and pointing. A fair wind was blowing the white fast-moving clouds against the sky, and the little white boat leaped among the green waves like a living thing, her bright sail straining. Let me pick it out for you on the harp, that will make it clearer.” He started to play the tune that he could hear so clearly in the shell, as Frodo listened.Ī small white boat with a bright red sail rounded the rocky point at the far end of the beach, sailing south along the sandy shore, heading for the long quays of Avallónë where the great ships put in. “Oh, but she does! It’s harder to sift the melody out here on the sand with the sound of the waves washing around us. “It doesn’t sound very different to the other one, to me!” Frodo admitted after a moment, smiling. The Teleri used to call her nethig, the little sister, because if you put her to your ear, she sings in a small high voice.” Maglor tossed the shell to Frodo, who caught it in one hand and held it to his ear. “See! this yellow shell is one I never found in Middle-earth.
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