Episode 8: The Trollshaws
Piper passed over the Last Bridge and through the forest without incident. As he had in the Lone-lands, Piper wisely traveled only by day, finding safe places to hide where he slept after nightfall.
Eventually he came to a ford in the River Loudwater, called Bruinen by the Elves, where not long before Frodo Baggins had been accosted by dreadful riders in black.
A fortnight after leaving Bree. Piper had reached the High Moors of the Trollshaws. He was feeling the strain of the long journey through unfamiliar country but was confident he would soon see the mountains.
As he climbed to its peak he spied a campfire where sat three Elves. One of them, an Elf both fair of hair and face, stood and approached him.
‘Mae govannen, Perian. I am called Taurdir. What errand takes a Halfling so far from his own country?
‘I am called Piper,’ said the Hobbit, ‘Did you say “Tower deer”? Begging your pardon, but that is a strange name,’
The Elf laughed. It sounded like music to Piper.
‘All names sound strange in the ears of strangers, do they not?’ replied the Elf. ‘But you have not answered my question.’
‘I beg your forgiveness, Taurdir,’ said the Hobbit with a bow. ‘I have come seeking the Lost Mathom.’
‘The Lost Mathom?’ asked the Elf with a quizzical expression upon his fair countenance. ‘I regret that I am unable to help you with this matter personally, but I know others who may. Will you come with me to Imladris?”
‘Imladris? Is that anywhere near Rivendell?’ said Piper scratching his head. ‘I was hoping to..’
‘It is now I who beg your pardon, Piper. Imladris is what we Elves call Rivendell,’ the Elf replied.
‘Grand! I would be very pleased to accompany you to Riven, er, Imladris,’ stammered Piper.
Taurdir led Piper east through the High Moors to the hidden refuge of the Elves on the eastern border of Eriador.
‘Are those mountains?’ asked an astonished Piper as the pair began their descent into the valley. ‘How high they must be!’
‘They are indeed,’ answered the Elf. ‘We call them Hithaeglir, or the Misty Mountains in the Common Tongue. The range is vast, running many leagues both north and south.’
‘What a day this has been,’ thought the elated Hobbit. ‘I’ve met two of my goals in one afternoon! Now if only I could find that dratted Lost Mathom!’
