They traveled a long time, a Elf, a Dwarf and a Halfling. Through barren wastelands of Lone Lands, full of ruins from the distant past. Through green forests, wild and untamed. Human settlements seemed lively and very crowded to Linglorel, and the lands inhabited by the halflings were full of joy. Hobbits love living the simple life. It’s relaxing – who wouldn’t love that? Mortals... so dynamic and expanding. And so, they rode across the gently rolling hills, ten or twelve leagues a day. Spring was now full upon the land, and trees were beginning to leaf out, some now showing blossoms - apple and pear trees, cherry and peach. Bees hummed among the petals, collecting nectar and pollen, disappearing when they had gathered as much as they could bear.
"Here we stay a day or three," rumbled Frimsi. "Give the animals a chance to rest a bit. Us too."
So they spent some days in the inn, filling themselves up with hot cooked meals, sleeping in soft beds at night, taking daily baths and purchasing needed supplies. And daily they pored over Linglorel's maps, again studying the alternatives before them, reviewing the best course to Thorin's Gate.
And so thirty miles a day did they cover, ten leagues from Sun to Sun, camping at night on the plains or down by the rivers. And as they went, the days grew warmer and the nights less chill. The world came green, flowers blossoming, trees leafing, grasses transforming from yellow to succulent green, and water ran in rivulets everywhere. Birds swept through the sky, some to travel onwards, others to take up residence in the surround, calling out their mating cries, challenging any interlopers who would dare trespass. Marmots and hares were often seen, and now and then a fox. And the lords of the air - falcons and hawks and an occasional eagle - would sweep o'er the plains or circle above and stoop in their deadly dives. The three companions smiled at the sight. Together they admired the beauty of the world around them, laughed, joked, talked and argued... argued so many times!
In the nights, they were setting up camps, told stories to each other, sometimes they sang and danced. Later when Frimsi and Passerose are asleep, Linglorel fell into the meditative state that Elves rest within, though even Elves sleep true sleep at times, and her mind wandered through memories, some pleasant, some ill. She stared at the stars and when her companions didn't look at her, her heart was getting heavy like a stone. She thought about the man's face, saw his eyes in her mind, grey as a cloudless night. And as she drank in the sight of him, the elleth mind drifted back to a time long past. Ah, Galdrien, my mother, you warn me long ago when you did say, "Love not a mortal Man... it will shatter your heart." Mother, perhaps it is the fate of daughters to oppose their parents. Oh, Thindaer, Dúnadan... Elbereth knows, I do love this mortal Man. Yet I cannot tell him so, for I could not bear to see the anguish in his eyes as he grows old and I do not.
And they finally reached Ered Luin, the mountain range at the far west of Eriador. Upon entering those lands they met a guard from Thorin’s Hall, a Dwarf named Thordralin. He agreed to be their guide. And finally they saw it. Thorin's Gate... The largest dwarf settlement in the Middle-earth. Majestic and giant halls cut into the Blue Mountains.
Linglorel forgot about her sadness for a moment and looked around curiously. It turned out that contrary to popular belief of her people, her dwarven friends do not exist on a diet of rocks and dirt... Even Frimsi! Thordralin turned out to be very polite. She was invited to visit their stronghold, Thorin's Halls with her companions. In this architectural wonder, hidden away in one of the most beautiful mountains, she entered figuring to be covered in soot from some filthy underground mine unbefitting a elf her stature. Much to her surprise, her eyes were instead treated to amazing works of beauty and craftsmanship. Her dwarven friends proceeded to take her on a tour, pointing out each piece in thorough detail. Linglorel smiled, impressed that one of the lesser races had such talent in them to create such works. Of course, they paled in comparison to what elven artisans can do, but this was not the time to point out their flaws...
