Many jewels the Noldor gave them, opals and
diamonds and pale crystals, which they strewed upon the shores
and scattered in the pools; marvellous were the beaches of
Elendë in those days and many pearls they won for themselves
from the sea, and their halls were of pearl, and of pearl were
the mansions of Olwë at Alqualondë, the Haven of the Swans, lit
with many lamps.
’Of Eldamar’, The Silmarillion
“O! Sweet is the sound of falling rain, and the brook that leaps
from hill to plain. But better than rain or rippling streams...”
Elladan stopped and pointed to Aragorn.
”...is water hot that smokes and steams,” Aragorn sang triumphantly.
“Wonderful!” Frodo beamed. “You remembered!” After supper the previous evening, the sound of rain on the shelter roof reminded Frodo of one of his favorite songs, which a delighted Aragorn and Elladan had asked him to repeat several times.
Aragorn grinned. “I haven’t the voice of either of you, but a lighthearted tune seems appropriate for this lovely morning.”
The day had dawned dry and clear, the whole valley sparkling with dewy droplets from the summer shower. Over a breakfast of fruit and cheese, the three friends discussed their “treasure hunt”. Rather than walk back to the southern hills, only a few miles from the shelter, they decided to ride.
“And we can fill this with treasure, should we find something,” Frodo said with a laugh, fastening the Gamgees' sling about his waist. He placed Scamp inside, then mounted Biscuit. He rode next to Aragorn, with Elladan slightly behind, as was his habit. The distance was traversed quickly, and soon the southern hills loomed above them once more.
“There’s the path we came down,” Frodo said, pointing.
“And the path to the Hallow is about a half-mile to our right,” Aragorn said, directing Arthad westward, riding between a small stream and the base of the hills. “The carving is directly ahead; I saw it once, years ago, and remembered it when we spoke of the stars last night.”
Aragorn had mentioned “a very curious stone” on which the star grouping was carved, but as they approached it, Frodo gasped in surprise at its size. Dismounting, he gazed up at the ancient stone, fully four times higher than the monument to Bandobras Took they had visited.
“There were two of them,” Aragorn remarked, pointing a short distance away. The remains of a second pillar lay tumbled in the stream, its half-dozen pieces partially submerged.
“Boulders must have fallen from above,” Elladan said, looking up the hill. “The pillars would have stood together, as guardians of the path the King would walk.” He inspected the broken stones, but any carvings they may once have borne were now covered in moss, or worn smooth by the rushing waters in which they lay.
Frodo let Scamp down, and he, Aragorn, and Elladan tethered their mounts within easy reach of the succulent plants that draped the hill like a blanket.
“We’d need hundreds of horses eating night and day to clear all this,” Frodo said, frowning at the thick covering of brambles, bushes, and wild grapevines. “Where do we start looking?”
“It is difficult to say,” Aragorn said regretfully. “These plants have been growing for millenia; there could be a hundred ‘hidden doors’ right in front of us, and hidden they remain.” He sighed. He had long wondered what this place had looked like, in its glory. Elendil himself had walked here. What had it been like? What had he been like?
Frodo caught hold of one of the trailing vines and shook it. The rain droplets caught in the vegetation showered down and over him. He laughed, shaking his wet curls.
“Sweet is the sound of the falling rain,” Aragorn teased.
“Estel, that song is about a lovely hot bath, not a freezing cold...” Frodo looked around. “Where’s Scamp?”
“She was at my feet a moment ago,” Aragorn said as Frodo called the dog’s name several times. “Frodo, there is no need to panic; she would never run off and leave you.”
“I know, but where is she?” Frodo eyed the hillside in alarm. “Do you think she found a way behind some of these vines, and got stuck?” He began to pull at the vegetation, causing another shower of water to drench him. “There could be anything between this stuff and the hill -- wolves or bottomless pits or--”
Elladan motioned Frodo to silence.
“I hear something,” the Elf murmured. He laughed suddenly, then pointed to an area of vegetation a few yards west of the path leading up to the Hallow. A tiny form was wriggling out from behind the thick brambles, sneezing wildly.
“Scamp, don’t ever disappear like that again,” Frodo burst out in relief as the pup ran up to him. He peered down at her in alarm, unsure whether to laugh or be worried. “What did you get into?”
Scamp’s golden brown fur seemed to have turned snow-white. She sneezed one last time, then shook herself. From eartips to tail, a powdery substance flew in every direction in clouds that sparkled in the sunlight. After one more shake, she trotted calmly over to the stream for a drink.
“Crazy dog,” Frodo said fondly.
Elladan knelt to inspect the glittering substance, and rubbed it thoughtfully between his fingers.
“Whatever’s behind all this sure is dusty,” Frodo said, trying to peer into the tiny hole through which Scamp had emerged.
“This is no ordinary dust,” Elladan said in a hushed voice.
“What do you mean?” Frodo asked. “Could it be the remains of crockery or statues? Maybe the pillar isn’t the only thing that got broken.”
“Frodo,” Elladan said, “this powder contains crushed pearls.”
“Pearls?” Frodo asked in amazement. “Bilbo has a belt with pearls and clear crystals, given to him by the Dwarves. I saw it in the Mathom-House once.”
“Bilbo has quite a treasure, then,” Elladan said. He peered closely at the fine dust. “This contains pearls, I am almost certain of it. And there are also traces of... opals.”
“I’ve never seen an opal,” Frodo said. “What are they like?”
“They are very rare, and sparkle with many colors,” Aragorn said, his eyes gleaming with interest. “Legends speak of gifts the Elves gave the Númenoreans; it is said that Elendil’s people brought many gems from the West to Middle-earth.” Elladan nodded in agreement. “I wish to see what Scamp discovered back there, even if it is crushed to dust.” Aragorn pulled the hilt of Narsil out of its sheath and began to cut through the curtain of vines separating them from the hillside.
Frodo stared at the weapon, which was missing fully a foot of its length. He couldn’t imagine why a Ranger would carry a broken sword.
Elladan stepped to Aragorn’s side, his own sharp knife at hand. Working together, they laboriously cleared away enough of the vegetation to allow one of them to squeeze through. Aragorn cleaned the broken sword before sliding it back into its sheath, then drew out flint and looked around.
“Do you need something to burn?” Frodo asked, pulling a dead, leafy branch from beneath a nearby bush. “Here, this is dry.”
“Thank you,” Aragorn said. He kindled a flame and lit the makeshift torch.
“Be careful,” Elladan said with a frown. He was clearly uneasy letting his foster brother out of his sight.
“Be at ease, Elladan,” Aragorn chuckled. “There can be no more than three or four feet of space between these vines and the side of the hill. I doubt that any dragons or brigands lurk where only moments ago only a tiny pup could enter.” With that, he thrust the burning branch ahead of him as he disappeared into the opening they had made. Elladan waited restlessly for his return, while Frodo knelt to examine the powder for himself.
At last Aragorn re-emerged, his boots covered with the same dust that Scamp had shaken off herself.
“What took you so long?” Frodo asked. “What’s making all the dust? Where’s the branch you lit?”
“You will soon see for yourself,” Aragorn said. He looked rather dazed. “Frodo, your remarkable dog has done it again. Hidden behind these vines, a long passageway has been cut directly into the hill. I followed it for quite a distance, and at the end is... a door.”
Frodo suddenly grew pale.
“Do you mean...” he faltered. “There’s something here after all? My dream may be true? I never really believed it.”
Aragorn smiled broadly. “I did.” He gazed at the nearly impenetrable curtain of vegetation in awe. “This growth is so thick, had we searched in any other spot we would never have known anything was here. Over time, the passage was apparently overgrown and forgotten.”
“Why do you think anyone built a tunnel into a hill? The folk who lived here weren’t hobbits, after all,” Frodo said.
“I am quite eager to discover the answer to that question myself.”
“Should we get more branches? Is it dark in there?”
“It was, but ancient torches are still in place, mounted at intervals along the passageway,” Aragorn said. “I lit several of them with the branch.”
“Let’s go, then,” Frodo said excitedly.
“Not quite yet,” Aragorn said, walking over to where Arthad was tethered. He removed a cloth-wrapped cheese from the horse's saddlebag, took the cloth to the stream and dampened it, then handed it to Frodo.
“You'll have your water bottle with you, but tie this over your mouth and nose. Our feet will stir up so much dust, I fear it might be enough to bother anyone close to the ground.”
Frodo nodded, and tied the cloth around his face. “What about Scamp?”
“I will carry her,” Elladan said, kneeling to untie the sling from Frodo’s chest. He bound it to his own, then scooped up the dog and placed her securely inside. Scamp looked out over the edge, but seemed unlikely to leap out.
“Ready?” Aragorn asked.
“Wait, Estel, there is something I would like to say,” Elladan said quietly. He faced Aragorn and Frodo, looking from one to the other. “Frodo,” he said gravely, “there are hundreds of stones in this valley upon which stars are carved. If you had not been clever enough to notice the placement of the fortirië above the Hallow, and if Estel had not mentioned the stone at the foot of this path, we might have searched elsewhere, in vain, for any proof of your dream. And Scamp has indeed proved a worthy huntress.” He bowed respectfully, then smiled. Frodo was fairly bouncing with glee, and Aragorn obviously could hardly wait to show them what the pup had discovered. He had to admit that he was growing quite curious, himself.
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