Riddermaid
Frodo had never been really lucky. He was too little for that, and when I say ‘little’, I mean it. He also had to run away and hide because his angry relatives Sackville-Bagginses were chasing him. Why did they chase him? They themselves did not know that probably. Yet Frodo knew that they hated him and they never got tired of showing him that he was right about it. After he had seen in a dream that they were planning to eat him, take his house and then eat all the vegetables in the garden, he knew what he had to do. He fled. He had to walk far and long and it was even more difficult than it would have been for another person, because he did not know where to go and could not read the map.
Once he came to the border of a strange country. It was green and beautiful and had no trace of Sackville-Bagginses. Besides, it looked like a place where food could be found. Frodo decided he should hide there. And so he went in.
What Frodo did not know was that this country was hidden, secret and well protected. Its name was Rohan, king Théoden ruled it and its borders were protected by gigantic horses bred by king’s nephew Éomer. Past these horses no one save those invited by Théoden could come. Yet Frodo’s smallness helped him there. The horses could not see him and he slipped in unnoticed.
There he began a life of a relative well being. There was enough food for him and he soon understood there were no Sackville-Bagginses around to fear. This made him rather happy. He even found himself a friend – a pony he named Sam (the letters stood for Strangely Awkward Mushroom, for you see, Frodo, just like other hobbits, liked mushrooms and there were none in Rohan; being grieved by the fact, he mistook the pony for a mushroom). He dug himself a hole in the ground and slept there at night and sometimes in the daytime too. The hole was right behind a berry-bush, so that he could have breakfast in the morning. And so he lived for a while, secretly, and not one living soul knew he abode there. And if a dead soul knew, it never told a living one. For they do not get on with each other very well.
One morning, he woke up and looked out from behind the bush. And then he saw… What did he see? He saw a beautiful foot. Indeed, a really beautiful one. And then he heard a beautiful female voice saying: ‘Now, horsy, let’s get you back to the palace. The king needs you for some purpose. I suppose he wants to ride you, but it’s difficult to understand what he wants these days. All he said to me was ‘Horse. Me. Need.’ And that was all. Isn’t that strange?’
The horse whinnied and, judging by the heavy hoofs, Frodo decided the horse and the talker left for the palace. The voice had been beautiful – so melodic, so tender, so sonorous. Frodo could still hear it somewhere in his head. He ate some berries, called his pony and forgot all about it. Until… the next day. He was walking and suddenly saw a human standing by his bush, talking to a large white horse. He wanted to hide but then he heard the human speaking. It was that voice! It was saying: ‘I wonder why would he need you today. I mean, he did fall off you yesterday. Wasn’t that enough?’
‘I don’t know,’ the horse answered in a Scooby-Doo-like way. No, not actually. It was simply my wild imagination. The horse was standing next to the woman and staring at her with an idiotic expression. Frodo stood as if enchanted and watched her, copying the horse unknowingly. She was tall and pale; her long golden hair hung down to her waist and her blue eyes kept winking because of the sunlight, so it is highly unbelievable that Frodo could actually see their colour. She opened her mouth and said: ‘So horsy, remember, don’t let him know you where there when he fell off you yesterday. Or he’ll be offended and that won’t be very nice, will it? He’ll run away and begin a life in the wild. And we wouldn’t want that, would we? One Holbytla living in our park is enough already. So let’s go.’ She was leaving and Frodo would never again see her face which he had not seen before, hear her voice. He had to do something.
‘Horse-talker!’ he cried and sprang towards her. But she looked at him with disgust, cried ‘What’s that?’ and ran away yelling HEEELP!!!. And poor Frodo was left behind with a broken heart and an empty stomach because the pony had taken advantage of his falling in love and eaten all the berries from the bush.
Next day, he saw her dancing and singing, which he found charming. She was jumping around gracefully and shouting these staves:
Where now the horse and the rider?
Where is the white hair flowing?
He jumped out from behind the bush and called to her: ‘Dancer!’
But she fled.
For the next day she had picked herself a new song and was now singing it beautifully:
The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The horsetails growing long and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of Sun in Rohan shimmering.
The Riddermaid was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of Sun was in her hair,
Golden around her glimmering.

Came Hobbit from the Shire far,
And lost he wandered under leaves,
His soul with memories was marred,
He walked alone and sorrowing.
He looked at her from under bush
And heard in wonder how she spoke…
But Frodo heard no more, because then she noticed him. She wanted to run from him, but her foot sank into a mole-hole and she was caught. Frodo ran to help her get out.
‘Who are you?’ asked she.
And Frodo answered: ‘A hobbit from the Shire.’
‘A hobbit?’ she asked again.
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘What is a hobbit?’ she asked once again.
‘Me,’ said Frodo, because he could not think of a better answer.
‘Yes, but what is it? I have never heard such a word. Though it does remind our word Holbytla.’
‘Yes, that’s what we’re called also.’
‘But it is said that the Holbytla are about three feet tall and terrible-looking.’
‘And that’s what I am,’ said Frodo.
‘No you’re not,’ she said and was right. For, first of all, Frodo did not look terrible. Actually, he was quite handsome. He had large blue eyes and curly brown hair and he looked even too good for a hobbit. And then, he somehow did not seem to be three feet tall. Maybe the good climate of Rohan had had its effect on him, maybe it was something else, but the fact remains a fact: he had grown taller. And so Éowyn – for this was her name and she was the king’s niece – could not believe he was a hobbit. Furthermore, she could not believe hobbits really existed and were not simply a fantasy.
‘But you sang a song about a hobbit and the Shire,’ said Frodo.
‘Yes,’ said Éowyn, ‘but I don’t know why. The song tells about a Riddermaid and a Knight from Gondor.’
‘Gondor?’
‘Yes. You do know what this is, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I do. But why would anyone make a song about a Riddermaid and a knight from Gondor?’ asked Frodo to whom the idea appeared ridiculous.
‘Why not?’ said Éowyn.
And this ended their quarrel. She went back to Meduseld, he stayed under his bush, but since this day, they could not forget each other and met every day. They wandered in the fields together and met different horses, all of whom were Éowyn’s friends, and in time Frodo himself could tell the difference between them all. And they were happy, as happy as anyone could be in Rohan, where gigantic horses protected the borders and a mindless king pretended to rule the country. And so they spent a summer and when autumn came they were still happy about their new love, not knowing what future had in hold for them. And what it had was Grima. Too long had he watched her under his eyelids and haunted her steps. Too long indeed; with all these years he had become extremely shortsighted and caught cold too often. He did not want to have suffered for nothing. Now he told Théoden a wild Holbytla had bewitched Éowyn and was going to take her away far North. Théoden, wobbling on his throne, ordered somebody, who would still care for him and his orders, to find Frodo. Éomer, though rather tired of obeying his uncle, called his well-trained horses that could smell almost anything (provided they had been fed first) and began searching. But Éowyn knew he would do this and brought Frodo to Théoden.
And so Frodo found himself standing in the hall of Meduseld in front of a throne on which was sitting an old man with a cup in his hand. It was Théoden. His green clothes were covered with such an amount of metal that it was impossible to understand what exactly he was wearing. His beard looked as if someone had just recently cut the most of it off. This someone had a name. It was Grima, at the moment occupied with dusting the floor. He was using something that remotely reminded a beard. The cup Théoden was holding and sipping from had a flower-pattern.
‘Who are you?’ Théoden asked, speaking as if he was not sure he should do so.
‘Frodo of the Shire, prince of Halflings.’ As Pippin never used his imaginary title anyway, Frodo thought he could borrow it.
‘Prince? I did not think you Holbytlas had princes,’ said Théoden suspiciously.
‘We invented some,’ Frodo answered. ‘Because,’ he went on in a pompous tone, ‘aren’t we a people like any other?’
‘You aren’t,’ said Théoden. ‘And your similarity to other peoples is not currently on discussion. What did you want to do with my niece?’ he asked knitting his brows, of which he had plenty.
‘Nothing,’ said Frodo, who was rather afraid of old and crazy kings.
‘What do you mean nothing?’ Éowyn asked angrily. ‘So it was all just a joke?’
‘No,’ answered Frodo quickly. ‘No, of course not. It’s just that… I didn’t know how to say it. Because there was all this and your uncle, and the horses… Would you marry me?’ he added, seeing Éowyn growing angrier and angrier.
Hearing these words, her face changed completely and the frown disappeared and a smile like a sun in the sky shone on her face.
‘Oh, but of course! Why hadn’t you said that before?’
‘Because I hadn’t met your uncle,’ he wanted to say, but thought better of it.
‘But she is already going to marry Faramir, prince of Ithilien,’ said Théoden. ‘So she can’t marry you.’
‘Fortunately,’ Grima wanted to say but did not. He remembered he had to show at least some decency.
‘But I am a prince also,’ said Frodo. ‘One prince or another, where is the difference?’
‘There is a great difference,’ said Théoden. ‘First of all, being a human, he is more preferable. Secondly, he is a prince and, as for you, I don’t trust you. And thirdly, he was the first one to propose to her.’
‘But uncle, I don’t want to marry Faramir anymore,’ said Éowyn.
(‘Yes!’ exclaimed someone very quietly so that no-one would hear)
‘Why?’ asked the king.
‘Well, because I want to marry Frodo and I can’t marry two men at a time. Neither can I marry a man and a hobbit at the same time. Neither can I marry two…living things at the same time.’
‘I understand you, niece. There is only one thing bothering my mind. What is a hobbit?’
‘That’s what I am,’ said Frodo.
‘But your name was Frodo,’ said Théoden. ‘So you’re a liar? You won’t marry her.’
‘No, my name is Frodo and I am a hobbit.’
‘Meaning?’ asked the king.
‘Excuse me?’ said Frodo.
‘I beg your pardon?’ said the king.
‘You’re welcome,’ said Frodo.
‘Oh, thank you,’ said the king and added, turning to his niece: ‘What a nice young man.’
‘Man!’ cried Frodo with a troubled look on his face. ‘Man! Indeed not! I am a hobbit and if you’re going to make me steal anything else from Pippin, then I will make you steal some of Éowyn’s lines!’
‘No,’ said the king. ‘No, please don’t. Because then she’d have to speak like me and I would not bear to hear that.’
‘Alright,’ said Frodo.
‘So, have we settled it?’ asked the king.
‘Yes,’ said Frodo, ‘absolutely.’
‘That’s wonderful.’
‘So, can I marry her?’
‘No, I’m afraid it’s impossible. Even considering all that you have done for me. Because you see, Faramir is coming soon and everybody else also and they will get married.’
‘So, it’s impossible?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I’ll go somewhere then,’ said Frodo. ‘Good-bye.’
‘It was nice meeting you,’ said the king.
‘You too,’ said Frodo with a smile (because he was a very polite hobbit). And he turned around to start going. But then Éowyn, who hadn’t said anything for a while, decided to do something. And so she jumped out from behind the throne where she had been hiding. Nobody could understand why.
‘No!’ she said. ‘I care not for Faramir for my heart is given to Frodo and if he goes I do also.’ Grima fainted.
Seeing the surprise on Frodo and the king’s face, she added: ‘I had been composing this phrase for a while. Do you like it?’
Grima woke up and mumbled something about celestial voices that were killing him.
‘In that case,’ said the king, ‘I know a way to fulfil your dream. Frodo, you will find me the One Ring.’
‘What makes it different from all the other rings?’ the hobbit asked.
‘Not much. It’s one and only and I wants it!’ said the king with a maniacal glint in his eye. ‘So, will you get it for me? And then you two can marry each other as many times as you wish to.’
‘One time,’ said Éowyn. ‘Just once, I don’t want to marry him over and over.’
‘I will bring you the One Ring,’ said Frodo, ‘though I do not know what it might be. Yet I will risk whatever there is to risk to bring it. One thing more: could you tell me where to find it?’
‘But of course. It is in the keeping of the evil witch Arwen. She has chosen the dark Rivendell for her dwelling place. It is a dark place full of unspeakable dread. Even looking at it makes you mad.’ The king sighed. ‘Unfortunately, I myself have never been there.’
‘I suppose that should be easy to find,’ said Frodo as he turned around once more and went to the door never to come back again (possibly).
‘Fare thee well,’ said Éowyn, and, as she had begun, she could not stop herself. So she went on, saying:
‘And if forever, still forever fare thee well, even though unforgiving, never gainst’ thee shall my heart rebel.’
‘I guess it fitted me more than you,’ said Frodo.
‘Yes, but I had to say something.’
‘Yes, of course.’
And so he left.
He walked long in all the different directions not knowing where should the evil witch be hiding herself. One night, when he was looking at a line of bushes with a sudden desire to sleep under them, he saw a strange figure crawling out from there. When it came closer and stood up, Frodo saw that it was higher than a hobbit, yet still small, bearded, fierce-looking and axe-wielding.
‘What… I mean, who are you?’ asked Frodo in amazement.
‘I,’ said the creature with a mad twinkle in his eye and a horrifying accent, ‘am dwarf Gimli and I am looking for the fair yet hidden country of Rohan to see the king Théoden. And you?’
‘I am hobbit Frodo,’ said Frodo, ‘and I come from the country of Rohan. I am looking for dark Rivendell, the dwelling of the evil witch Arwen.’
The dwarf shook his head so that his beard almost hit Frodo. ‘It is a dangerous place. Few have come back alive from there. Why are you going there?’
‘Because I need to find her ring,’ said Frodo. ‘I must bring it to king Théoden and then I can marry his niece, fair Éowyn.’
‘You want to marry her?’ asked Gimli.
‘Yes,’ said Frodo standing back not to be hit by the beard again.
‘Why?’ asked the dwarf suspiciously.
‘I don’t know,’ answered Frodo honestly. ‘I have never thought about it.’
‘Oh, so you haven’t, have you?’ said Gimli. ‘Maybe what you need is not king’s niece but something else?’
‘What, for example?’ was Frodo interested.
‘Why would a hobbit leave his home, come to a far country and then leave it too to find dark Rivendell? Surely, you had intended to find something else besides marriage?’
‘I wanted to find peace and life without fear of being killed by my closest relatives,’ said Frodo with irritation. ‘Would you think of it as something worth searching?’
‘Yes,’ said Gimli thoughtfully. ‘I would. In fact, I am looking for the same thing.’
‘You?’ was Frodo amazed. ‘Your relatives wanted to kill you too?’
‘No, but they will if I don’t bring what I must.’
‘And what is that?’
‘Why would I tell you everything about myself? We don’t need to know each other’s secrets. Yet we could still help each other. I will show you the way to Rivendell and you will guide me to Rohan.’
‘Thank you,’ said Frodo, ‘I will show you the way. But you have just said the dark Rivendell was a dangerous place. What makes you think I will return alive from there?’
‘Nothing. But I choose to hope. And besides,’ Gimli added, ‘you’re so small, she might not notice you. Though I do not believe it,’ he muttered under his breath.
Frodo did not hear the last words and so he was hopeful and looking forward to a nice adventure and then a marriage and then… what would come then? He chose not to think of it.
They walked on and on and Gimli told Frodo many stories of the kingdom in the mountain and Frodo told Gimli about the Shire and the Sackville-Bagginses and Gimli was full of compassion but never spoke of his personal life, saying it would be of no interest to Frodo. And so they walked, and crossed a river, and stayed for a while in a forest full of strange creatures, who sang with high voices, and climbed a mountain range, and Frodo asked Gimli if these were his mountains but they were not. And, when they had been walking for a month or two already, they finally saw far away a valley in the middle of which stood a castle.
‘We have come,’ said Gimli. ‘That is Rivendell.’
And Frodo asked in wonder, ‘Surely, there must have been a mistake? This does not look like a castle of an evil witch, it more seems to be a palace of king, a fair and a merry place.’
‘So it seems to every traveller,’ answered Gimli bitterly, ‘when they first come into the valley. They fall under her charms and forget all and think that to be happy is possible only hither.’
And Frodo answered in a dreaming voice, ‘And they are not mistaken. For could there be a fairer country or a more kingly castle in the whole world? And if Rivendell looks so, I wonder what would its lady be like.’ And with these words he ran towards the castle.
‘Alas!’ cried Gimli. ‘I have lost him and he hasn’t shown me the way. The only thing I could do now is to save him.’ And he ran after Frodo.
But Frodo had already come to the gate and it opened before him and he went in. The gate closed and Gimli was left outside.

Frodo was walking through a wonderful garden, trying to guess where Arwen could abide, when a voice said: ‘Where would you be going, traveller? You need not hurry, you may rest here for as long as you wish. I would be but happy to have such a guest.’
He looked up and saw a woman, as he thought, whose long hair was dark as night and eyes shone as stars. She was wearing a long red dress and seemed in it so fair and queenly that Frodo forgot the task that he had and the king’s niece who was waiting for him in the far country of Rohan and all Gimli’s words and, bowing, said, ‘Much have I wandered in the world, yet never before have I seen a lady so fair and high. I would be but happy to stay near you and be permitted to see you from time to time.’
She smiled and answered, ‘You are full of courtesy, traveller. Who are you and where do you come from? Where are you going?’
‘I am Frodo of the Shire and I come from the country of Rohan. I had been looking for fair Rivendell and its lady, Arwen. It seems to me that I have at last fulfilled my task.’
‘So it seems,’ she answered, ‘for I really am Arwen and this is Rivendell. And you, Frodo of the Shire, are welcome here.’

Far away, in Rohan, Éowyn was thinking about her beloved. Faramir was coming and she was wondering how to tell Frodo, once he would come, she could not marry him. As she sat there deep in her thoughts, someone came. She rose and looked at the newcomer in wonder. It was Gandalf Greyhame, a wizard who took it to his liking to visit Rohan from time to time and attack Grima who was not happy because of this. As he had once told a horse full of compassion, his personal life was problematic enough, he didn’t need old wizards coming and threatening him. Now Gandalf was standing there, shaking his long beard and looking at her.
‘What do you wish to say, Gandalf?’ asked Éowyn.
‘I wish to warn you,’ he answered. ‘Two compete for your heart. I say ‘two’ for the third one is an idiot. One is coming and the other is in great danger. Which one do you choose?’
‘But which is which?’ she asked, fearing that she knew who was the one in danger.
‘That,’ he said, ‘is up to you to guess.’ And he left.
Éowyn could not guess the answer. Then she remembered that Frodo was gone to dark Rivendell and Faramir was coming from Minas Tirith. She also heard Grima asking if Gandalf had gone yet. She knew what to do. She took out her knitting and sat down calmly.

Gimli was asleep, when something woke him up. He opened his eyes and saw Arwen standing above him and looking down with a smile. He jumped up.
‘What do you want of me, witch?’ he asked.
She smiled. ‘I want nothing. I have already got everything I need.’
‘Then let me go, and give my friend and companion back,’ he said. ‘Why would you need him?’
‘I do not,’ she said. ‘I need nothing and no-one. I have got everything I need.’
‘That you have already said,’ muttered Gimli. ‘Why then did you wake me up?’
‘I wished to invite you inside,’ was the answer. ‘Seeing how you sleep under a bush, I felt pity and compassion and…wanted to invite you inside.’
‘I shall not come!’ he said. ‘I have had enough of your evil charms and your dyslexia and I do not wish to see you again. Go away!’
Her face changed. Now she was full of anger. ‘Fine!’ she said. ‘I won’t come again and you may sit here till you die. I wouldn’t care, I have somebody else now.’
‘He’s got a bride and, once he’s out of your castle, he’ll go to her,’ said Gimli.
‘He won’t,’ she said and left.
And Gimli stood there, lost in his sadness.
After a while he lit a fire, threw some garlic in there and began dancing uncertainly. He was also chanting something. The verse was written by another dwarf; Gimli was the kind of a poet who would never rhyme love and glove because the former would not fit into the latter. The author of the verse, however, was able of rhyming words like rose and mountain and used this gift boldly.

Faramir, prince of Ithilien, was not glad to find his bride was gone and he had to stay in Rohan and wait for her. He sat in a hall at Meduseld and tried to find a way to make the staying less boring. The king was drinking some dark liquid, his nephew and councillor were throwing angry looks at each other. Faramir was not enjoying it. He was already planning to apologise politely, leave and never come back again. For, although Éowyn was beautiful and brave and had other pleasant traits, her relatives were revolting. He could have found himself a better bride with less pain. So he thought.

A rider could be seen on the road. A rider, riding a white horse, wielding a long sword. One thing was strange about him. It was a woman. Her long golden hair was tied so that they would not bother her and she was unpractically dressed in white. She was Éowyn, king Théoden’s niece. She was riding to dark Rivendell.

Frodo was looking out the window. He saw the valley of Rivendell where he had already lived for some time. He did not know for how long exactly, because, for him, all the days were blended into one. He was happy; he felt he was in love and he knew he was loved. Yet, from time to time, he could feel a memory of something far and fair return to him. He could not grasp it, he could not even understand what this thing was that built his dreams yet slipped away from him. And he could not even sing the song, because he did not know the words. Fortunately, he soon heard Arwen, who was walking in the garden and singing:
There’s no time for me,
There’s no place for me,
What is this thing that builds my dreams, yet slips away from me?

Who wants to live forever?
Who wants to live forever?

There’s no chance for me,
It’s all decided for me,
This world has only one sweet moment set aside for me.

Who wants to live forever?
Who dares to love forever?
When love must die.

But touch my tears with your lips,
Touch my world with your fingertips,
And we can have forever,
And we can love forever,
Forever is my today,
Who wants to live forever?
Who wants to live forever?
Forever is my today,
Who waits forever anyway?
Yes, Frodo felt the same way. Suddenly he remembered: he had a task. He had to do something. But what?

Éowyn checked her horse in front of the gate. All was quiet. Suddenly she heard a strange mumbling, which was coming from behind a bush. She came off the horse and peeped behind the bush. She saw a dwarf dancing around a small fire and chanting. Seeing her, he stopped, looking confused, and asked: ’Who are you and what are you looking for here? Leave as quickly as you can. This is not a place for the living.’
‘If so, then who are you and what are you doing here?’
‘I asked first.’
‘But I’m a lady.’
‘Yes, that’s true. Sadly. I am dwarf Gimli and I repeat once again to you: leave immediately and do not come back.’
‘Why are you then staying here?’
‘I want to save a friend. He’s spent a month at the witch’s castle. I do not believe he will come out.’
‘So this is truly the dark Rivendell?’ asked Éowyn.
‘Yes. Go away! You have got nothing to do here.’
Éowyn looked at him sternly and proudly.
‘I am Éowyn, niece of king Théoden, so think before you open your mouth to say anything to me. I have come in search for my beloved, Frodo.’
‘Oh, so you are Éowyn? Yes, I suppose you should look this way. All humans look alike. I can’t see how you tell the difference… Frodo is the friend I was talking about. He cannot be saved.’
‘That we shall see,’ she said and, coming to the gate, banged on it and shouted: ‘Arwen! Open! I am Éowyn of Rohan and you have got something you must give back to me.’
The gate opened slowly and they went in.

Frodo was still looking at the garden, when he saw something familiar. Something was glimmering golden between the trees. It was Éowyn’s hair! He suddenly remembered all, including his promise to find the Ring. He rose and slipped out of the room. He knew where Arwen kept it. It was safely on a shelf in her bedroom. He even knew where her bedroom was. Now he only had to get there and take the Ring. She was still somewhere far away. He walked down a corridor and pushed the door open. What luck, she hadn’t locked it. He entered and saw it. But the shelf was too high for him. He looked around and saw a chair. He pulled it, but it was too heavy and moved very slowly. Suddenly he heard steps. He froze; he had recognised Arwen’s steps. She went on without even stopping at the door. Frodo continued. At last he could climb at the top of the chair and reach out for the ring. He took it, now he had it in his hand and he felt so relieved he could not keep balance and fell with a crash.
Lying on the floor he heard Arwen hasten towards the room. The situation was hopeless. He prepared to die. The door burst open. On the threshold was standing Arwen.
‘Where are you, halfling?’ she called. No answer came. ‘I know you are here,’ she whispered. ‘I can hear your breathing, I can feel your fear. Not to mention that I can see you. There you are, under the cupboard. Why did you take my ring? I needed it!’ She came to Frodo and wanted to take the ring from him, but then Éowyn came in. She had a long bright sword in her hand and was doing her best to look menacing. They all appreciated it and Arwen even looked surprised.
‘Stop!’ exclaimed Éowyn. ‘For you have…what has she done?’ she asked Gimli who had come also. The dwarf shrugged his shoulders. ‘Well, it doesn’t matter. You have done something wrong and you will pay.’
‘Just leave,’ said Arwen. ‘Please, leave and never come back again.’
‘Alright,’ they all said, a bit confused, and left.
‘Finally free!’ said Arwen. Then she remembered something. ‘They took my ring! It was my favourite!’ And she ran out of the room.

Suddenly Éowyn stopped. ‘I want to know something,’ she said.
‘Go on,’ said Frodo and Gimli.
‘First of all,’ said Éowyn, ‘where has my horse gone?’
‘Unknown direction,’ said Gimli.
‘Alright. Then: why are you coming with us?’ she asked Gimli.
‘Because I am going to Rohan.’
‘Why?’
‘I need to talk to king Théoden, and it is a secret.’
‘Then: what were you doing outside that castle?’
‘That would not interest you.’
‘That wouldn’t? Very well. The next question is to Frodo: what happened inside?’
‘I’d better not talk about that,’ said Frodo. ‘Besides, who cares?’
‘Exactly,’ said Gimli. ‘Why not better concentrate on the road ahead? It is a long and a wearisome one.’
‘It is?’ said Éowyn. Frodo and Gimli nodded. ‘Wow. I hadn’t noticed. Well, let’s get going then.’

It was night-time. Gimli was sitting and thinking about his sad life. He was unhappy and had been so for his entire dwarf-life, or so it seemed to him. Fifty years ago he had come to Rivendell not knowing what the place was. He had met Arwen and fallen in love with her. Later, understanding who she was, he escaped. Ever since he had remembered her and longed to see her again. Gimli sighed. It’s a hard life to be a dwarf and to love an evil elf. Suddenly someone came out of the shadow of the forest. Gimli gasped: it was Arwen. She looked pale and tired and did not seem to understand where she was.
Gimli jumped up as she collapsed.
‘Arwen!’ he said. ‘Arwen, what is going on?’
‘Gimli,’ she whispered and looked him in the eye. ‘Save me.’
‘Anytime,’ he answered, ‘but how? What is wrong with you?’
‘You have got no sense of humour, so stop trying to be witty,’ her breathing was heavy. ‘Frodo has taken my ring. I cannot live without it. I am slowly losing all the strength I ever had. Help me! Take the ring from him. Please,’ she closed her eyes.
Gimli stood up. He did not have to think for a long time. Arwen was an evil elf and if she died she would no more be evil. On the other hand, if he got her the ring, she would live. It was easy to decide.
He went to Frodo and tried to wake him but the darn hobbit was fast asleep. After having shaken him and yelled in his ear, Gimli lost his patience and decided to take the ring by himself. He had almost pulled it from Frodo’s finger when the hobbit woke up with a yell.
‘Shut up you idiot,’ whispered Gimli. ‘It’s me, Gimli.’
‘Gimli? What are you doing? Are you trying to take the ring away from me?’
‘No, I’m madly in love with you and could not take it anymore.’
‘Oh,’ said Frodo. ‘Gimli, you could have just said so.’
‘You know, the profoundness of your stupidity amazes me. Of course I was taking the ring away from you and am still trying to. What else does it look like?’
‘But Gimli,’ said Frodo, ‘if I don’t bring the ring to Théoden, I won’t marry Éowyn.’
‘Who cares? Not you at least.’
‘Well, in a way…’
‘If Arwen doesn’t get her ring back, she will die.’
‘So?’
‘So I want to give it to her.’
‘But, Gimli, you hated her, you warned me of her.’
‘I did.’
‘And now you’re trying to save her? Why?’
‘Because I don’t want her to die,’ said Gimli. ‘Are you going to give me the ring or not?’
‘No, I most certainly am not.’
‘In that case I am taking it myself,’ said Gimli and pulled out his battle-axe.
‘Gimli!’ cried Frodo. ‘Are you trying to kill me?’
‘Yes!’ said Gimli lifting his axe.
‘Oh,’ said Frodo. ‘Then I guessed correctly.’ And rolled away from under the axe.
Éowyn woke from an unpleasant dream to an even more unpleasant reality. Gimli, with an axe in his hand, was chasing Frodo and yelling “Give it to me!” She thought for a bit. Frodo did not want to marry her and watching him run away from Gimli was rather funny. She made herself comfortable and shouted: ‘Hoy! Gimli! Why are you chasing him?’
‘Oh, you have woken up, haven’t you?’ answered Gimli, still running. ‘Had nice dreams?’
‘Not really,’ she said. ‘So why are you running?’
‘He doesn’t want to give me the ring so that I could give it to Arwen and she would live!’
‘Oh,’ said Éowyn, ‘I see. Wait! Arwen? You want to give it to Arwen?! You can’t give it to her!’ she pulled out her sword and jumped in between Gimli and Frodo.
‘Go away, you traitor!’ she exclaimed. ‘Go away and never come back!’
‘Of course I won’t,’ said Gimli. ‘I need the ring.’
‘Then I am going to make you captive. You’re coming with us.’
‘And Arwen?’ asked Gimli sadly.
‘I don’t care for Arwen.’
‘Sure you do,’ said Gimli. ‘I saw you looking at her. I know that look. You’re simply jealous.’
‘What?’ Éowyn laughed. ‘You think I’m afraid she would steal Frodo from me?’
‘No. You’re afraid Frodo would steal her from you. Although you never had her,’ added the dwarf proudly.
‘Really?’ she asked thoughtfully. ‘You think so?’
‘I know it.’
‘In that case I guess we should take her with us. Gimli, where is she?’
‘Right behind that bush,’ he said helpfully.
‘Then let us go and find her!’ Éowyn exclaimed. ‘She cannot escape us.’
‘You know, considering she’s fainted and is dying, you might be right. She would not escape even if she wanted to.’
They brought Arwen out. She was even paler and Gimli grew sadder as he looked at her.
‘Are we far from Rohan?’ he asked Éowyn.
‘No,’ she said. ‘We’ve got to walk on for about a day or so and then we’re there.’
‘Good for her.’

And so, carrying Arwen, they came to the border of Rohan. A gigantic horse standing there whinnied and bowed to Éowyn, who did not pat it because the beast was too high and huge. It greeted only Éowyn because it could not see others.
They entered Meduseld. Théoden was sitting on his throne in exactly the same pose as Faramir had left him, still drinking the strange dark liquid.
Frodo stepped in front of the throne.
‘Théoden king,’ he said, ‘I have come back and brought what you desire. I went through forests and over mountains, I had lost my mind in the dark Rivendell, I have escaped death. I have brought you the One Ring. I have fulfilled my promise.’
The king opened an eye: ‘What?’
‘Uncle, we’re back!’ shouted Éowyn.
The king opened another eye: ‘Niece, you’re back,’ he said. ‘You know, Faramir’s been here. I wonder why…’ he added, smiling idiotically.
‘I have brought you the One Ring,’ repeated Frodo.
‘Really? Very well, put it there on the mantelpiece,’ said the king.
‘You don’t have a mantelpiece,’ said Frodo.
‘I don’t? That’s sad. We sorely need one. Grima! Why haven’t we got a mantelpiece?’
Grima appeared from nowhere. ‘Because we do not need it, my lord.’
‘We do not?’
Grima shook his head.
‘Oh,’ said the king. ‘How sad. So tell me, niece, what’s new?’
‘Well, Frodo has got the ring for you, so we can get married now, can’t we?’
‘Sure,’ said the king. ‘Of course. Any time.’
Saying that, he took a sip from his cup. Seeing this, Gimli came to the throne.
‘Théoden, king of Rohan,’ he said, ‘at last have I found you.’
Théoden looked at him with surprise. ‘Who’s that?’ he asked. He turned to Frodo. ‘Is he a relative of yours?’ he asked.
Frodo shook his head. ‘As far as I know he’s a dwarf.’
‘I am Gimli son of Glóin and I come from the kingdom under the mountain,’ raised Gimli his voice. ‘You have got something that we, the dwarves, would dearly want to have back.’
‘And what would that be?’
‘Coffee,’ said Gimli. ‘The thing you’re drinking. You see, its effect on dwarves is only positive. Yet it affects humans in an unpleasant way. Like you.’
The king suddenly sat up on his throne.
‘No!’ he said. ‘I will not give it to you. Go away! Grima! He’s bothering me!’
‘Let him,’ came an answer from Grima. ‘Then there’ll be at least something to watch.’
Seeing that Théoden was unwilling to give back coffee, Gimli jumped to the throne and pulled the cup. Théoden held it firmly. Suddenly Arwen got up and, with a yell, ran up to Frodo and tried to strangle him with her necklace. Surprised by that, the king let go of the cup. Gimli fell, pouring coffee on everybody around him.
The effects were astounding. Éowyn fainted. Arwen smiled, let go of Frodo and approached Gimli, saying something that sounded like ‘My beloved Dwarf’. And Frodo… Frodo began growing. He grew and grew until he had reached the size of a full-grown man. He sat on the floor, not understanding anything.
‘Well,’ said Gimli. ‘Now I know a lot more about coffee. If you excuse me, I’d better go.’
‘Do not forget me!’ said Arwen. ‘I am coming with you. I do not need the ring anymore. Strangely.’
‘These words make my heart glad,’ said the dwarf.
‘I have been saying them ever since you had left me,’ said Arwen.
‘Um, well, let’s forget about it, OK? Now let’s go.’
They left.
‘Éowyn,’ called Frodo. ‘Wake up.’
She opened her eyes and looked at Frodo in amazement.
‘You see,’ he said, ‘it’s coffee.’
‘Then bless coffee,’ she answered. ‘Now you can marry me.’
‘Of course he can,’ someone said suddenly. They looked up and saw Théoden. He looked like a sane human being and was talking with a normal voice. ‘Of course you can,’ he repeated. ‘But first give me the ring.’
‘Here you are,’ said Frodo. ‘One question: why did you need it?’
Théoden smiled. ‘You see, I’m called the Lord of the Rings. Look!’ he showed them his hands; all ten fingers were covered with rings. ‘I needed this ring to complete my collection.’
‘Here it is then,’ said Frodo. He rose and, stepping over unconscious Grima, gave the Ring to Théoden.