PART TWO: Farewell to Lòrien

The next morning, elves who spoke the Common Tongue came to help them pack what little they had, but also to give gifts. Merry was very grateful for the clothing they had been provided with in Rivendell, but they were in a warmer climate now, and the heavy fur-lined coats and cloaks were too warm, really.

Merry looked in wonder at the elven waybread they were given. The thin cakes were brown on the outside, but had the colour of cream on the inside. Gimli seemed to know what it was, and tasted one, calling it cram, but the elves said it was called lembas and that it was more strengthening than cram. As Merry received a parcel of the lembas, he smelled the strange bread and broke off a tiny piece to taste. It tasted wonderful! The waybread was wrapped in leaves and would keep fresh for a long time if left so.

“Pippin!” Merry said as Pippin immediately started to eat one of his own cakes of lembas. “Don`t eat so much. Didn`t you hear what they said? One of these should be enough to keep a tall man going for a whole day.”

“Aye.” Pippin said, eyes shining. “But they didn`t say how long it would keep a hobbit on his feet. We need more food than the Big Folk, Merry. You know that!”

“Yes, yes. Just be careful with it, all right?”

Next, they were given cloaks, woven of a light stuff that felt like silk to the touch and that had none and every colour there was, blending perfectly in with the nature surrounding them, be it rock or leaf. The cloaks were fastened about the neck with a clasp shaped like a green leaf with silver veins. They were beautiful, and Merry traced the silver veins with his finger.

“Are these magic cloaks?” asked Pippin, looking at them with wonder.

“I do not know what you mean by that,” answered the leader of the Elves. “They are fair garments, and the web is good, for it was made in this land. They are elvish robes certainly, if that is what you mean. They are garments, not armour, and they will not turn shaft or blade. But they should serve you well. You are indeed high in the favour of the Lady! For she herself and her maidens wove this stuff; and never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people.”

Merry found it only fitting that the Lady held Frodo in high honour. He did after all have the fate of Middle-earth in his hand, or rather, around his neck.

After their morning meal the Company said farewell to the lawn by the fountain. Their hearts were heavy; for it was a fair place, and it had become like home to them. As they stood for a moment looking at the white water in the sunlight, Haldir came walking towards them over the green grass of the glade. Frodo greeted him with delight.

“I have returned from the Northern Fences,” said the Elf, “and I am sent now to be your guide again. The Dimrill Dale is full of vapour and clouds of smoke, and the mountains are troubled. There are noises in the deeps of the earth. If any of you had thought of returning northwards to your homes, you would not have been able to pass that way. But come! Your path now goes south”'

As they walked through Caras Galadhon the green ways were empty; but in the trees above them many voices were murmuring and singing. They themselves went silently. At last Haldir led them down the southward slopes of the hill, and they came again to the great gate hung with lamps, and to the white bridge; and so they passed out and left the city of the Elves. Then they turned away from the paved road and took a path that went off into a deep thicket of mallorn-trees, and passed on, winding through rolling woodlands of silver shadow, leading them ever down, southwards and eastwards, towards the shores of the River.

They had gone some ten miles and noon was at hand when they came on a high green wall. Passing through an opening they came suddenly out of the trees. Before them lay a long lawn of shining grass, studded with golden elanor that glinted in the sun. The lawn ran out into a narrow tongue between bright margins: on the right and west the Silverlode flowed glittering; on the left and east the Great River rolled its broad waters, deep and dark. On the further shores the woodlands still marched on southwards as far as the eye could see, but all the banks were bleak and bare.

The elves had made ready three boats for the Fellowship and now the elves stored their gear in them.Merry couldn`t help but touch the boats as soon as they came to them. Being a Brandybuck and growing up on the banks of the Brandywine, Merry found boats and everything about them interesting. Now he stood watching the slim, grey elven crafts being loaded and prepared. There were three of them. Aragorn was to ride with Sam and Frodo in one, Gimli was to ride with Legolas, and he and Pippin were to join in with Boromir. The elves had told them to get accustomed to the boats and to step in and out of them a few times here where there was a landing place before setting out.

“What are these?” Sam said, blushing a bit when a surprised elf gave him the obvious answer. The poor hobbit had gone on about not taking rope since they left Rivendell, and now they got more than they needed, as the elves put three coils in each boat. And fine rope it was too, fine enough to have distracted Sam from his worry, if only for a moment.

As they arranged themselves and their baggage, Merry couldn`t help his heart going out to poor Sam. He was pale and seemed scared out of his wits. Vaguely Merry remembered that Sam had held on for his very life as they crossed the Brandywine on the Ferry. Of course, all of them were scared by the Black Riders, but Sam held on all the way across the Brandywine, long after Merry had told him the riders couldn`t reach them as they had to go twenty miles up the road to the Bridge and cross there. Now Merry went over to the stocky gardener to reassure him.

“Don`t worry Sam. These boats are completely safe and you won`t be in danger as long as you do what Aragorn says. And besides, Frodo also knows how to row, so you should be doubly safe.”

“I know, Mr. Merry. It`s just that they are so wobbly.” Sam said, gripping the edges of the perfectly still boat.

“Yes I know, but you will get used to it soon enough.” Merry squeezed his shoulder and smiled. Poor Sam. Merry could only hope that he would be all right. He walked over to his own graceful little boat and jumped confidently down in it. The boats were fashioned so that they were long and slim. There were two boards lain across the breadth, providing seating for one elf or man or two hobbits on each. Each boat had two short-handled oars with broad blades shaped like leaves, also fashioned of the same grey wood as the boats. Merry lifted an oar and studied it. As he put it in the water and pushed he found to his delight that it was light and easy to manoeuvre.

At first they took a trial trip up the swiftly flowing Silverlode. Boromir steered them along nicely. Merry took the other paddle. The crafts were low in the water, making it easy for a hobbit to reach the oar over the side and use the appropriate force when stroking through the water. It was not like rowing any of the boats they used on the Brandywine. Those boats were of course smaller and they weren`t slim and narrow like this. Some were coracles made of hide stretched over wooden frames, others rowing boats, square at the stern and with a pointed bow, and there were larger wooden ones as well, of several different sorts, made for transport, not for fishing or just having a nice trip on the River. 

Suddenly, they turned a sharp bend in the river and sailing towards them was a great swan shaped ship.

“Oh!” Pippin said, staring wide-eyed in surprise and wonder at the beautiful boat. He had soon become accustomed to their own boat and found it no more frightening to sit in than the boats the Brandybucks had and that he had been in many times with Merry and Frodo, fishing in the Brandywine or just lazing about on the River. This swan-shaped boat, now that was something different! It was white with black eyes and a beak that shone like gold. Two elves steered it and in the midst of it stood Lady Galadriel. Music came from the boat and it was a sad and beautiful song and both Merry and Pippin listened in awe as the Lady sang. They all steered their boats to the great swan and then Celeborn invited them to a parting feast. Merry felt his stomach rumble pleasantly with the thought of lunch. They had after all done a fair march that morning before they came to where the boats were moored and set out in them.

It was a grand feast. Frodo didn`t eat much, Merry noted. He seemed to stare in awe at the Lady Galadriel, and pay little heed to things about him.

“Are you all right?” Merry whispered, leaning over to where Frodo sat on the grass. “You haven`t eaten.”

“I’m fine, Merry.” Frodo answered softly, his thoughts far away.

Merry frowned but said no more. Suddenly the Lady Galadriel rose and filled a cup with a white liquor giving it first to Celeborn and then to the Fellowship to drink of in parting. As Merry drank he couldn`t quite place the taste but as all things were in Lothlòrien, it was pleasant and delicate. Celeborn now told them about the lands they were to travel in, and again Boromir and Aragorn talked of Minas Tirith. Those two seemed to know these lands pretty well, Merry understood, and he felt at ease with that. Aragorn he could trust. Boromir though, seemed to be growing more and more uneasy and edgy and Merry was a bit surprised to realise that he did not, in fact, trust the man completely. He resolved to think about this, and to keep his eyes and ears open.

As they had drunk the cup of farewell, Galadriel and Celeborn seated themselves on chairs placed out for them, and Merry waited to see what would happen next. They were comfortable here on the grass, and beside him Pippin stretched out, looking about with an expression of contentment and awe upon his face. This was all too grand for him to put into words, and when Frodo and even Merry failed to describe the beauty of it adequately, then Pippin had decided he`d not even start to try and would simply try to remember the beauty as best he could with his heart and mind.

Again the Fellowship was given gifts. Merry and Pippin received silver belts with clasps shaped like golden flowers. They were beautiful to look at and fit nicely. Merry couldn`t help but wonder what had been said as the Lady spoke so long in private with Aragorn. She had given him several gifts, and one was a beautiful stone he had pinned to his tunic. Merry couldn`t help but smile as Sam stuttered his thanks for the wooden box filled with earth and the fair words she spoke to him. When Gimli blushed and stumbled over his words Merry did his best to hide a laugh. They were the opposite of two poles, the Lady and the dwarf. It was wonderful to see though, that even if the elves weren`t too happy with letting Gimli into their wood at first, that he too was blessed by Galadriel. Frodo, Merry was pleased to see, was given a little phial of crystal, shining with a white light that was beautiful beyond the bounds of the world, and yet somehow Merry understood that its light was dimmed, its power as yet veiled. And suddenly he realised that Frodo probably had talked more to the Lady than he and the others had, as a look of peace came to Frodo`s face as he took the phial and she spoke to him. Maybe that was what happened yesterday, Merry realised. Maybe Frodo had met the Lady as he and Sam were out walking and she had talked to them? He would ask Frodo about that later. Now they were called upon to go to the boats again.

Once again they entered the boats and elves with great poles thrust them out into the stream and they were slowly borne away.  No one said anything as the boats were carried away from the Golden Wood. Lady Galadriel stood watching them and as they floated by her it seemed like Lothlòrien was floating away backwards. After a little while, the boats turned in the current and they were more swiftly borne away. The Lady disappeared from their sight and as the last trees vanished she sang to them in elvish, the song carried to them on the fair breeze.

Suddenly they came to a bend and Merry shook himself, focusing his attention on the river in front of them. A deep sadness took him, and as Pippin sniffled, Merry turned to look at him. Tears were running freely down his cheeks, and Merry felt himself tearing up too. They had left safety behind and would they ever look upon such beauty again? He drew a sleeve over his eyes.

“It will be all right, Pip.” He said, putting an arm around Pippin`s shoulders and squeezing a little, trying to bring comfort, but knowing that words really were in vain now.

Pippin nodded. “I know Merry, it`s just so sad to leave.”

Boromir said almost nothing as they journeyed on but Merry could see Gimli and Legolas talking but he couldn`t make out what they said. It looked like Gimli too was crying. This had been a hard farewell on them all, and the depth of their parting was brought home to him even more as the stalwart dwarf wept. Gimli had been hard to understand at first, not given to emotions as the hobbits were, but silent and stoic. Of course, as they went on they had got to know him better and discovered there was a very fine and sensitive person indeed beneath the beard and armour.