The Moon Druid of Arcedia; And the One Ring to Rule Them All

~04 What About Second Breakfast?~

~What About Second Breakfast?~

Ahshala's wanderlust had been satisfied as they began to travel over the hilly woodland of Chetwood forest. This overgrown forest eastward of Bree was full of life. Moss clung to the brown bows of the Doron trees, known as Oak in the tongue of man and even in the light dusting of snow a few leaves clung to their branches. Strider was at the head of the group followed by Frodo, Sam, and his new friend Bill the Pony, laden with the hobbits' supplies, and the two troublesome hobbits. Ahshala stayed behind, her attention demanded by the various flora on the hillside. They called to her, beckoning her closer, and she obeyed.

Ahshala stooped low, admiring the delicate blue flowers of the Alfirin in front of her. At her tender touch, a small blue bud opened greeting her to the yellow veins surrounding the anther. A happy smile crept its way onto her face, the humble flower held a powerful message, one of true love and devotion. The humans tastefully named the flower Forget-me-not. It was a fitting name. To Ahshala's druidic people, Forget-me-not flowers were used in wedding bouquets and were grown on the graves of loved ones on the anniversary of their passing. When they were seen in the wild it was a reminder to look not only at what you have but at what you have lost.

With a now more solemn smile, Ahshsla bowed her head till her nose touched a flower, the morning dew tickling her straight nose, and whispered a soft druidic prayer for her fallen friends.

Ahshala had hoped the journey through the marshy woods would ward off unpleasant memories but she was wrong.

"Where are you taking us?" Frodo's voice called to the Rugged man cresting the green hill.

"Into the wild."

Strider continued his climb cresting the hill and momentarily out of view of Ahshala, who now standing made her way towards the struggling hobbits. She was glad for a reason to leave the solemn flowers behind.

Amongst the forest pine and oak forest creatures stirred hoping to catch a glimpse of the Druid walking in their home.

"How do we know that Strider is a friend of Gandalf?" Merry whispered cautiously clearly not convinced from the letter Gandalf had written.

Ahshala had no trouble hearing his quiet complaint and assumed the ranger ahead heard it too. As they had quickly discovered, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took were not the quietest of hobbits.

"We have no choice but to trust him." Frodo sighed, turning his head from Strider to the elf following behind "I trust Ahshala" She reciprocated his small smile upon seeing that the hobbit's doubts the night before were gone. He could see that she was the same Ahshala he knew. She traveled with my Uncle before, he spoke only good things about her. I have met her often too. She is as good as I remember her to have been."

Her smile grew wider and she gave a contented hum. She held fond memories of her travels with Bilbo Baggins and after 60 years even, after the painful and bitter deaths of the Dwarves she loved, she recalled her memories with fondness.

Eager to know their final destination, the other doubting hobbit spoke, rubbing his dirty hands on his hickory pants.

"But where is he leading us?"

Having heard every word Strider turned, his Ebony locks brushing his dark coat, his hand resting comfortably upon the hilt of his sword.

"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee, to the house of Elrond." Strider turned his attention back to cutting a path through the hillside.

Excitedly Sam turned to the chestnut pony beside him.

"Did you hear that, Bill?" he exclaimed, raising a hand to pet his pink nose "Rivendell! We're going to see the Elves!"