Brego; A Horse's Tail, Part 1 - Never to own, but to be owned
My life has never been easy. I live in a time when war looms ever over all the lands and a shadow lies on the hearts of men and beast a like. These are hard times and sad - many a good horse I have seen ride valiantly into battle, only to return broken and crippled, or not to return at all. Yet times were not always like this - there was a time that I remember when the sun shone on the lands and fear was few and far between. Let me take you back, back to the days of a rolling green sea of grass and the days of my youth... I had always wanted to be a war horse, I know that much. When I was but a young foal, my mother would tell me of the great deeds that were done in lands far beyond our own and of the brave horses that left to join them. Our paddock was near to the city of the King, and I would often watch the men riding to and fro, sometimes leaving in great companies and heading south, sometimes returning. When they were close enough, I would run along side the fence with them and the men would smile and talk to me. But their horses were tall and long-legged, and they would out strip me quickly. Yet I always knew in my heart that one day, I would follow in their wake, bearing a great warrior on my back. without being asked unless it was necessary. Above all, she taught me to be loyal and true and to always be brave and stick something through to the end. My mother was a kindly mare. She taught me right from wrong at a very early age and that if I caught the eye of a captain then I would be such an honourable horse that others would admire me. So that was my goal. She also said to me to have manners, and to never do anything without being asked unless it was necessary. Above all, she taught me to be loyal and true and to always be brave and stick something through to the end. I spent to blissful years with my mother in our quiet paddock - but when I turned two, my master, Eosso, turned me out with the other colts of my age. We were given more freedom than we had ever been given as foals and we loved it. Day after day, we would be moved across the plains of Rohan, our own country, and I only just began to realize how vast the world was. Being in our small paddock, the events of far away had been but a rumour and a story, yet they never seemed that far away. Now I understood the hugeness of the world and, for the most part, the small part I had to play in it. In our herd of colts there were 6 - myself, Arod, Hasufel, Snowmane, Firefoot and another horse I had not seen before, whom we named Silver, a name based entirely upon the colour of his coat. For we were young then, care free, and we did not see the greatness within him, not at that time at least - to us, he was just another playmate. Silver and I quickly became close friends, and so it has remained. He was always the leader in our games, and I would have second command, and the others would follow. For two happy, wondrous years we roamed the plains with our kind master and we enjoyed our freedom, thinking no one could ever take it away from us. We didn’t realize until too late just how naive we were...
Brego; A Horse's Tail, part 2 - Friends and Freedom
Our Master Eosso had been drifting with us and his family over the plains for 2 years when we finally were taken back to the main city where we had grown up. Not much had changed the gleaming hall of Meduseld still golden and watching over the lands. Being four, it was time for my friends and I to be backed. This meant of course, to be broken in. Now we were young horses and free, and we liked it that way. When Eosso first came to catch us, we bolted and led him on quite a run around our now enclosed paddock. In the end of course, with a fair few other men I am quite proud to say, they eventually caught us. Once in a halter, we were quiet enough, obeying our Master's wish. Then it was time for the saddle. Never before have I ever been through such a strange experience; to have been practically wild, and then suddenly asked to let a man tightly strap a heavy lump of leather onto your back is not a pleasant thing. And at first, we protested as much as possible, though I would have to admit that Silver was the one with the most fire. I think that it was then that I, at the very least, began to see him in a different light - not the leader of a game, but of an army, mighty and proud, bearing the king upon his handsome back. So with the saddle finally fitted and adjusted to our shape, we were given a bridle. I hate bridles. I always have and I probably always will. A hard cold piece of metal, pushed into your mouth, between your teeth and over your tongue. I refused to open my mouth for as long as I could, but the groom merely stuck his thumb in the gap between my teeth and tickled my tongue. It was awful - but thanks heavens for oats! - sweet juicy crunchy oats. They were the only thing that kept me sane during that first week of my life wearing a bridle. When we were let out again at the end of the day, we would all compare what we saw as horror stories on the day’s events. From what I heard, we generally put up a good fight against the dreaded things, and that was some comfort to me at least.
Brego; A Horse's Tail, part 3 - Royal Meetings
Within a week, our master seemed happy that we were fine with the tack and that now it was time for us to try to be ridden. I do feel for those brave boys they chose to first get on us, for we were having none of it. The bridle was bad enough! - but to be expected to carry someone? Not yet, I wasn't ready it was too soon! I remember, they would hold us in a confined space while the boys climbed on, then they would just let us loose in the paddock. How many times I threw my rider off I don’t know, but it was more than the others, save Silver, so we started to hold our own competitions to see who could chuck them the most! It must have been the third day into our being broken in that he came. A tall, fair haired man, young and full of a kingly aurora and the very air became humbled at his presence. At the time, Eosso was tacking me up and as usual I was refusing to take the bit. "Here," he said, "let me try." My Master swung around and gasped. "My Lord!" he breathed and handed the bridle to him. He was obviously someone of great importance and this made my master very nervous. I don't know why, but I inherited his feelings and became very excited. Who was this man? I wondered. I flitted around and neighed very loudly but he seemed undeterred. "Come here, boy," he said quietly, "it's alright, don't be so silly now. No-one's going to hurt you." Immediately I knew he could be trusted. His voice was calm and soothing and gentle, and it quietened my high spirits. Obediently, I allowed him to put the bit in my mouth and stroke my neck. "What's his name and who were his parents?" asked the man. "My Lord, he is Brego of Beauty and Fire Bringer." replied Eosso. "Théodred, would you like to ride him?" asked the master tentatively. Théodred! But he was son of King Théoden - what was he doing here?! Maybe it was the knowledge that I was in the company of royalty, but I arched my neck and lifted my tale so that it streamed like a banner in the wind. "Yes - yes I would Eosso." he smiled and he suddenly without warning leapt lightly onto my back. If it had been anyone else, I believe I would of charged around and thrown him off, but his constant gentle voice kept me still. He swung me sharply around and headed out of the stable yard at a walk, Eosso at my side. What has he done before?” asked Théodred. "Nothing - only the boys have ridden him so far in the paddock. You’re the first he seems to like enough not to chuck off!" "Really? Well let’s see what he can do then!" and for the first time in my life, I was spurred on. I didn’t really understand what he was asking me to do, so I followed my instincts - and they told me to run . With an almighty neigh and a rear, I galloped off with the Prince of Rohan on my back, who was laughing loudly. At first I didn’t know why - but then I realized that he and I could become one, I found this business was perfectly glorious! For the entire day, we sped across the plains together, over what seemed like every hill and all the rolling seas of grass you could ever imagine. I knew at once that I had found my true Master. It was late that evening when we returned. I was sweating and breathing loudly, but I was not tired - with Théodred on my back I could have run on forever. But the Prince returned me to Eosso, asking when I would be ready to move on. My master said he had never seen such progress in a horse and that at this rate; I would be ready to go within the month. This made me very happy and that night in the field we started to discuss our futures - not that we had any control over them of course, but a horse can dream cant he?
Brego; A Horse's Tail part 4 - A New Friend, A Bad Feeling
It must have been a week later that he came again, but this time with his father, the king. It was early evening and we were huddled around the gate, where Eosso stood making a fuss of us. Behind, I saw Théodred and two other men come up behind him. One was wearing a crown, so sense told me he was the king and the other followed at his side. "That's the one father." said Théodred and pointed at me. I whinnied loudly and strode over to the fence post he was leaning on. "A fine beast," nodded the King, looking me over as I welcomed my new friend," but who is this Eosso?" he was now staring at Silver. My Master explained and it was that evening that Silver was given his first true name – Shadowfax. King Théoden called him and I could see that from now on his heart would ever be turned to the mighty horse. That was the beginning really. A month later, my master Eosso said I was fit to be Théodred's horse, and I left the small stables and lived in the elaborate yard of the King. Before long though, Snowmane and Shadowfax joined me, so I was never really separated from my friends. And Arod, Hasufel and Firefoot all became the great war horses of valiant men. Yet I when I was with Théodred, it didn’t actually matter if they were there or not - the Prince was my master now and my closest friend. I did my best to be loyal to him and for five long years, we galloped at the head of huge companies across the plains of Rohan. For it was at that time that strife came to my peaceful land. More and more we were out of Edoras to see of an attack of Orcs. Yet it didn’t matter how dangerous the situation, for if my master was with me, then we would never be lost. I thought, or rather wished that I - we - could have gone on like that forever. Alas, like all good things, that was never to be. A bright day was dawning over the plains, illuminating the Golden Hall of Meduseld, and from the moment I was taken from my stall, I knew something was wrong. There was nothing unusual - Théodred had received word of an attack of Orcs in the West Fold, and it was merely another quest to destroy them. My Master had obviously tried to explain this to his father, but it had been no use - everyone knew that his advisor, Wormtongue, would see to it that the King was not disturbed, not even by his son. So with our band of men, including my master's cousin, Éomer, we headed out at the front, and though I felt no change in the Prince, I felt it everywhere else - in the wind, the earth, the rock, even the horses around me. I tried to tell him but he didn't understand, he just pushed me on. Soon we were by the tips of the White Mountains and were travelling slowly, keeping look out for the Orcs. By now, the air felt so tense that you could have slit it with a knife - at least I thought so.
Brego; A Horse's Tail part 5 - Beginning Again
I don't really know exactly what happened next - all I knew was that we had been ambushed in the mountains and were trapped. Quickly as we could, we organized ourselves and charged but we were not fast enough. The Warg Riders were archers, and my master was shot from the saddle. I tried to stop and turn to him, but the force of the charge kept me moving. Soon our men were shattered against the wall of fierce warriors and I had a chance to turn back to him. He was lying on his stomach face-down, unmoving. I tried everything to get him to move but it was useless - he just lay there, silent and still. Before long, the men, now led by Éomer had stopped the advance of the Orcs, and had lifted the Prince to safety. Yet as we escaped from the mountain passes and back along the plains to Edoras, I needed no-one to tell me what was happening. Distraught, I refused to let the other men near me, and became wild. Though I let myself into the stables, I would not let them brush me down - that was what me master did, he always did it, surely he would come to do it? So I waited. And waited. And waited - but still he did not come. Then I heard the word I had been dreading. "The Prince has died." I think I lost my mind then. I thought I could never let any man near me ever again, let alone to bear them on my back - the pain was too much. So I was left in the stable - until three strangers arrived from lands afar... These strangers seemed to arouse suspicion in the people and rightly so - a dwarf, an elf and a man they were. Gandalf I knew and he was the new 'owner' of Shadowfax. I use the term lightly, as nobody could ever really own Shadow - he either let you ride him or he didn't. Still, no man would I suffer to come near me - no-one that is, until I met him . Aragorn, son of Arathorn was his name and gentle were his words. He was tall and kingly and reminded me very much of my master - yet he seemed more wise, older. He saw me and spoke softly in my ear, quieting my spirits and calming me. he asked me in a mixture of my own tongue and another I did not know, but the words formed pictures in my mind and I understood their meaning as peaceful and fair. Then I knew I had found him. Now he is my master and new adventures lie before me. Kind is his word and soft his hand - yet he is brave and valiant, and he has strengthened my trust once more. My past is my past, and now I can move on. Who knows what we shall find in our time to come? I know only this - my life may not be easy, but I will always be as loyal and true as I can to the King, to Aragorn, son of Arathorn - and nothing will ever waver my trust again. Ever. The sequel to this
Part 5- Three Strangers
Once again, my life has proved that you will never really know what lies in wait for you around the corner. I told you my tale, long ago, to where I met Lord Aragorn - I thought I had had my share of adventures then. Yet I was wrong. So wrong. Just like before, my heart was wrenched from my chest and torn to pieces. And just like before, hope returned, and my heart was mended. This one last time, I will tell my story, in the hope that my memory might live on. This one last time, I will take you back to the land of my birth..... As I have said before, the year of the fall of Théodred also saw the coming of Three Strangers to Rohan. One was a dwarf, the other an elf, and the last a man. Gimli, son of Glóin, Legolas of Northern Mirkwood, and Aragorn, son of Arathorn. At the time, I remember thinking it strange that the elf, Legolas, should come from a place called Mirkwood. Such a dark and gloomy name, I thought to myself, how could he come from there? For he was fair, the fairest being I have ever seen. Gentle, wise, and old, very old, I could sense that much even if the people of Edoras couldn't. Another unknown one amongst them only encourages rumours and mistrust. Yet we horse's have a knack for these things - we can tell if some one is evil or the like. It's all in the way they speak, they move, even how they listen. Most of all, it's in their eyes. I once heard some one say, that the eyes are the window to the soul. They couldn't have been more right. The Race of Men give away far more about themselves than I feel they would like to. If you would only stop to look at a person, you could learn everything you needed to know in a instant. That is, if a horse may have an opinion. The dwarf, Gimli, was one of the most curious things I had ever seen. Short and shout, with a lot of armour, hair and noise to make up for his small height. He had a deep booming voice, quite alarming when I first heard it, but once I was used to it, I actually found it quite amusing. He and the elf were obviously good friends, even the humans could see that. How they would make us laugh with their antics, which usually consisted of insulting each other with very silly comments. We I say we, I mean myself, Snowmane and Firefoot - for at that time, Snowmane was the King's horse, seeing how Shadowfax was now considered Gandalf's. Arod and Hasufel were in fact bearing the three strangers on their backs, which made it even more peculiar. So Legolas and Gimli were like a breath of fresh to a stale room in Edoras. i think it made a lot of people realize that not everyone from outside out own borders wanted to make war. The fact that they were also like chalk and cheese was quite astonishing Yet no matter how fair, or funny the other two might be, Aragorn was the only one who ever really understood. I would have said me, my pain, my life...and that a horse is so much more than just an object to own. For he did understand that, but he knew more about everything it seemed. He, like Legolas, was old - not as old, granted, though I'll admit he looked older. His eyes showed a great deal of wisdom and a knowledge of the world around him that I have never seen in a man. He carried a great weight upon his shoulders, a constant burden on his heart. In this way, I suppose I felt I could relate to him, if a horse may be so bold. I know now that his cares were far vaster than mine, but they had the same effect on him, as I believe they had on me. Not that he would ever let others see this - he was the only human who could even begin to understand what his eyes told. But I am side tracking - and must continue with my story...
Part 6 – Freedom of Minds
Very soon after the three strangers arrived, they were led up yo the Golden Hall, to see the King himself. Over the years, I have heard many stories than I could flick my tail at about what happened in there. What seems obvious though, was that our King had been betrayed by his advisor, Gríma Wormtongue, and was under the spell of Saruman the White. When I first heard this of course, it made very little sense to my mind. The betrayal of Gríma was easy to accept - just about everyone in Edoras had known he was up to no good. I simply couldn't understand the rumours of Saruman. All I knew at that point about the wizard was that he dwelt at Isengard n the north-west of Rohan, and that he was a friend of the King. This led me to trust him, for if our King could, then so could the King's people. Yet Gandalf the White, who before was grey so that I was confused even more, proved me otherwise. I don't know exactly how, because of course I never saw it, but somehow, he released King Théoden from his spell. I have heard that the moment the King rose, tall and proud once more from his throne, was something that could rekindle hope and courage in the faintest of hearts. The next part of the tale I did see, for my stall was by the entrance to the stables. This way, I had a clear view of the Hall once the stable doors were open. Two guards came hastily out from the hall, and threw a black-robed man mercilessly down the stone steps. It took me a second to realise that it was actually Wormtongue. Then came the King. The last time I had seen him was before Théodred had died. He had been old and crippled before his time, bent with age, his eyes misted with doubt and his hair wispy white. Yet now, as he advanced upon the traitor, the lines on his face were gone, replaced by radiating anger. All through the city, the people stopped to look and felt the power emitting from him. His eyes, now clear and seeing, were burning, seething with a bright cold blue flame. He still walked a little unsteadily, but Wormtongue squirmed and wriggled at his feet like the witless snake he was. "I've only, ever, served you my Lord." he whimpered desperately. "Your witchcraft, would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" Théoden replied fiercely. "Send me not from your sight." the worm pleaded pathetically. "Aaarrgghhhh!" roared the King and raised his sword high above his head to smash the worm's skull. "No! No, my Lord!" Aragorn came flying down the steps, and as Théoden's hand came down to deliver the fatal blow, he jumped before the King and stopped his arm. "No, my Lord - enough blood has been split on his account." I was amazed. Aragorn had seen the pain, the suffering, the evil the Gríma had brought to Rohan - and yet, he could still find it in his heart to pity the wretched thing. Gríma now owed him his life - and I couldn't help but to wonder, just how kindly Lord Aragorn would be repaid. "Get out of my way!" Wormtongue shouted, and pushed past the people to my stables. He glanced fleetingly at me - but I neighed and reared angrily. I would carry no traitor on my back. He sneered at me, knocking over a stable boy who was brushing down a handsome back gelding. Jumping on, he galloped out of the stables and sped like the wind out of the city before anyone could stop him. Back up on the steps, one of the knights cried out, "All hail Théoden King!" Each and every person bowed low before him - Aragorn released the King and knelt at his feet. But Théoden didn't seem to notice. He was canning the crowds the hall - and then he said it. "Where is Théodred? Where is my son?" Chapter Three – The Evacuation The Prince had been buried, another white-specked mound outside the gates of the city. And the King hadn't even known he was dead. It was then, for the first time, that I felt sorrow for someone else for the loss of Théodred. Before then, I'd only thought about myself. I hadn't even considered how the King must be feeling. I had lost my master - but he had lost his only son and heir. To see his grave must have been more than he could bear. It helped me, I think, to begin to let go of the Prince and start again. It was very soon after the arrival of two children from the Westfold that word spread through the city - the Dunlendings had been sent by Saruman, and were pillaging and burning every village. The King's order had been to evacuate the city, and make for the ancient fortress of Helm's Deep. I had made the journey before of course, and knew the path through the mountains well. I also knew that those paths were very unprotected, and easy to attack. I should know - I had been at the head of an ambush there more than a few times myself. There was only one problem - I would not suffer any man to touch me, save Aragorn. Therefore, I was for the most part ignored when the emptying of the stables began. I watched quietly, as over the course of the day the stables grew more and more deserted. They must have been about half-empty when Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas anf Gimli came in. Legolas and Gimli both stayed back a little, making a fuss of Arod, their new steed. Arod was of course extremely pleased with himself and his new riders - and he didn't mind telling me that the elf was the best rider he had ever had. And that was saying something - his previous rider had been trained by Théoden himself. A few seconds later, Shadowfax came cantering past me and out of the stables, bearing Gandalf on his back. As usual he wore no tack. I often asked him why he refused to do so, as I had always been rather proud of my own, even if I didn't like the bit. He had replied that the saddle hurt his back and the bit was too cold. I never question this to his face for he was my friend, but he did make me laugh. He could be such a ponce at times, that horse. I had been staring out rather longingly after Shadowfax when he came over. It had been so long since I had galloped across the plains, and I had a tickle in my toes. "Whoa now, easy - I don't suppose you've been out much of late, have you lad?" Aragorn asked softly, stroking my neck. The stable hands gasped at him amazed - I was standing quietly, accepting the offer of his friendship. "Looks as if he likes you, my Lord," said and old man, "You're the first person to touch him in weeks." "Is that so Brego?" I snorted in reply. Aragorn laughed. "Fair enough - where is his tack?" he questioned the old man. "Out back my Lord - it has not been used since the Prince died." "Bring it to me." and the old man disappeared around the corner. I neighed excitedly - I was actually going to be ridden. I suppose I knew it would happen one day, but I didn't know I would be so happy about it. Again, Aragorn laughed. "Careful with that one Aragorn," warned Gimli mockingly, while holding his hand over his ear, "If you want to deafen your foes, he's the right way to do it!" Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn all laughed. I just tossed my head. I wasn't that loud! - well, maybe a little... Soon enough, the stable hand returned with my tack. It had been so long, and I had forgotten how much I hated the bit. Yet obediently I opened my mouth without a fuss, and let him fix the bridle. The saddle came next, but I wasn't bothered about that. It's annoying, but you get used to it after a while. Taking my reins, Aragorn led my out of the stall and asked Legolas to hold me while he mounted. Smiling and talking softly, the elf stroked my face and held me steady. Aragorn jumped lightly on my back with surprising springiness - not that I wasn't expecting him to, but I could barely feel him get on. I began to flit around a little now - I had so much energy, all Aragorn needed to do was to say the word, and I would be off, far far into the distance after Shadowfax. "Steady now Brego, calm down - you'd better get on Arod, Legolas." commented Aragorn, and the elf left my side to mount his own steed. Not to mention help Gimli up. When all three companions were ready, they walked us down to where the King sat waiting on Snowmane. He cast a surprised eye at my rider and I. "So you finally tamed the beast then?" he remarked, smiling for the first time since anyone could remember. "You might want to give him a good run before we leave, just to control him better." he suggested, and turned to talk to his men. Aragorn nodded and turned me around down to the city gates. People were already trickling out down the hillside, though the majority were waiting for the King. My steps became high and jolty, I wanted to go go go! Aragorn however, had his own ideas, and kept me in check until he was ready. "Alright Brego - of you go!" and away I went! Flying like the wind, we flashed past the walkers who gasped and cried out in amazment, "Brego! Brego has returned!" Around the hill we went, my tail high and streaming like a banner behind me, my neck arched and my heart so happy I could have run like that forever. Aragorn laughed and leant far up my neck toward my head, urging me on and taking the wait off my back. We completed one circuit when we saw the King's company riding out of the city, and Aragorn directed my to join them. Breathing heavily, but far from tired, we pulled up along side the King, who simply smiled knowingly. "Conserve you energy Brego - we have a long way to go yet."
Part 7 The Road to the Deep
Two and a half days of uneventful travelling had passed since leaving Edoras, as we made out way tediously slowly through the mountain passes. Not that this was a bad thing - in a number as small as ours, with women and children, the elderly and ill, I doubt much could have been done to save ourselves, this far away from Helm's Deep at least. Lord Aragorn had of course been riding with the King's men, so our pace seldom rose above a walk. I often wlked beside Arod as my new master spoke with his friends, and we would spend the time reminiscing, remembering old times; our youths across the plains; games and tricks we had played on each other, as well as Eosso!; the times we had ridden victoriously from battle back to the city, to be greeted by cheering crowds. So many memories...for we were nine then, 'middle-aged' by the accounts of some men. Of course, what they really meant is that they thought we were half way through our working lives. And this in turn, was of course complete rubbish. We horses can live up to forty if we are given half a chance, and we ca normally work until we are at least 30. But man will believe what he wants to believe. We didn't talk all the time though - sometimes, we just listened. And we learnt a lot. We knew nothing of the reason for the coming of these strangers to our lands, and while I was glad, I was also curious. So from what they spoke, we could unravel a little of the mystery. It seemed obvious, for example that there had at one point been a lot more of them. As far as we could make out, it had been Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn, then two Halflings. What Halflings were I hadn't a clue, but I gathered they were dear to my master. It was about midday, and Arod was walking in front of me, Gimli on his back, while the Lady Éowyn lead. Ahh, Éowyn. Such a fair woman. So understanding of the control man had over us horses, of power. It was plain for all to see that she desired more. Well, to all but her brother, Uncle and late cousin that is. I could almost hear her heart calling, screaming to be let out, to be given a chance to prove herself worthy, to defend her people in battle. But she felt she was caged, trapped in an over-protected world. I felt for her - but the time was drawing nigh, when prove herself she would.... Yet for now, Gimli chatted away, much to her amusement. "It's true, you don't often see dwarf women. In fact, they're so alike in voice and appearance, that they're often mistaken for dwarf men! Which has led to the belief that there are not dwarf women, and that dwarves simply spring out of rocks in the ground!" he chuckled. Éowyn laughed with him - she was bent double with mirth! I loved to see her like this - just for a moment, she was free from any burden, and just, well, for lack of a better word, happy. She turned to glance, grinning at Lord Aragorn. "It's the beards." he mimed at her, which only made her laugh even more. "Which is of course ridic-" Gimli continued but was cut short when Arod spooked and bolted. Gimli stayed in the saddle for a couple of strides, but soon landed with an almighty 'UMPH!!!' on the floor. Éowyn gasped, and struggling not to giggle, she ran to help him up. Aragorn laughed after her, and as she turned to face him, her golden hair caught the shining rays of the early spring sun, and surrounded her in an angelic glow. The White Lady of Rohan. Later that night, Lord Aragorn was sat keeping watch while the others slept - well, at least I thought Legolas was sleeping. Its so hard to tell with Elves, they just seem to lie there with their eyes open. Quite unnerving to watch really, let me tell you. I had been untacked, but was tied by means of along strong rope to a cart. He appeared to be watching the grasses flickering and dancing in the whistling winds. Yet as he sat puffing intently on his pipe, I could sense that his eyes were viewing something else. A dream maybe, or a special time - I couldn't tell, for his face gave little away. For the three hours he was on watch, he was almost motionless, save for reaching to hold tightly in his hand a beautifully intricate silver and crystal pendant around his neck. It was very, well, 'Elvish' necklace, is the only way I can describe it - that is, from what I could grasp from Legolas. Delicate and pure and fair; but old, and wise and strong. I knew immediately that this pendant was very special to my master. Then, I did not know why - but in time, I would learn much of the past.
