The Fellowship of the Ring (The Lord of the Rings, #1)

by J.R.R. Tolkien

he may play a part yet that neither he nor Sauron have foreseen.

“White!” he sneered. “It serves as a beginning. White cloth may be dyed. The white page can be overwritten; and the white light can be broken.”

our time is at hand: the world of Men, which we must rule. But we must have power, power to order all things as we will, for that good which only the Wise can see.

‘Gondor wanes, you say. But Gondor stands, and even the end of its strength is still very strong.’

Now at this last we must take a hard road, a road unforeseen. There lies our hope, if hope it be. To walk into peril – to Mordor. We must send the Ring to the Fire.’

‘I will take the Ring,’ he said, ‘though I do not know the way.’

This is the hour of the Shire-folk, when they arise from their quiet fields to shake the towers and counsels of the Great.

‘You at least shall go with him. It is hardly possible to separate you from him, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not.’

Someone said that intelligence would be needed in the party. He was right. I think I shall come with you.’

burning like a watchful eye that glared above the trees on the brink of the valley.

‘The Company of the Ring shall be Nine; and the Nine Walkers shall be set against the Nine Riders that are evil.

The Sword of Elendil was forged anew by Elvish smiths,

Aragorn son of Arathorn was going to war upon the marches of Mordor.

‘This is Sting,’ he said, and thrust it with little effort deep into a wooden beam. ‘Take it, if you like. I shan’t want it again, I expect.’ Frodo accepted it gratefully.

held up a small shirt of mail. It was close-woven of many rings, as supple almost as linen, cold as ice, and harder than steel. It shone like moonlit silver, and was studded with white gems. With it was a belt of pearl and crystal.

Spare food and clothes and blankets and other needs were laden on a pony, none other than the poor beast that they had brought from Bree.

It was Sam who had insisted on choosing him, declaring that Bill (as he called him) would pine, if he did not come.

‘The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid: neither to cast away the Ring, nor to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy nor indeed to let any handle it, save members of the Company and the Council, and only then in gravest need.

no oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will.

Then with one glance at the Last Homely House twinkling below them they strode away far into the night.

‘when heads are at a loss bodies must serve, as we say in my country.

If we go back now, then the Ring must remain there: we shall not be able to set out again. Then sooner or later Rivendell will be besieged, and after a brief and bitter time it will be destroyed.

Ringwraiths are deadly enemies, but they are only shadows yet of the power and terror they would possess if the Ruling Ring was on their master’s hand again.’

‘The road may lead to Moria, but how can we hope that it will lead through Moria?’

‘The wolf that one hears is worse than the orc that one fears.’

Speak, friend, and enter.

‘If you are a friend, speak the password, and the doors will open, and you can enter.’

Say “Friend” and enter. I had only to speak the Elvish word for friend and the doors opened. Quite simple. Too simple for a learned lore-master in these suspicious days.

There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world.’

‘Rope!’ muttered Sam. ‘I knew I’d want it, if I hadn’t got it!’

His senses were sharper and more aware of things that could not be seen. One sign of change that he soon had noticed was that he could see more in the dark than any of his companions,

He felt the certainty of evil ahead and of evil following; but he said nothing.

‘Fool of a Took!’ he growled.

Throw yourself in next time, and then you will be no further nuisance.

here alone in the world was found Moria-silver, or true-silver as some have called it: mithril is the Elvish name.

‘I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the whole Shire and everything in it.’

We cannot get out. The end comes, and then drums, drums in the deep. I wonder what that means. The last thing written is in a trailing scrawl of elf-letters: they are coming.

‘The Shire!’ he cried, and springing beside Boromir, he stooped, and stabbed with Sting at the hideous foot. There was a bellow, and the foot jerked back,

‘One for the Shire!’ cried Aragorn. ‘The hobbit’s bite is deep! You have a good blade, Frodo son of Drogo!’

‘Do as I say!’ said Gandalf fiercely. ‘Swords are no more use here.

Something dark as a cloud was blocking out all the light inside, and I was thrown backwards down the stairs.

‘There is more about you than meets the eye, as I said of him long ago.’

it was like a great shadow, in the middle of which was a dark form, of man-shape maybe, yet greater; and a power and terror seemed to be in it and to go before it.

‘You cannot pass,’ he said.

even as it fell it swung its whip, and the thongs lashed and curled about the wizard’s knees, dragging him to the brink.

‘Fly, you fools!’ he cried, and was gone.

Faint and far beneath the earth rolled the slow drum-beats: doom. A thin black smoke trailed out. Nothing else was to be seen; the dale all around was empty. Doom. Grief at last wholly overcame them, and they wept long: some standing and silent, some cast upon the ground.

‘Look, my friends!’ he called. ‘Here’s a pretty hobbit-skin to wrap an elven-princeling in! If it were known that hobbits had such hides, all the hunters of Middle-earth would be riding to the Shire.’

only evil need fear it, or those who bring some evil with them.

In Rivendell there was memory of ancient things; in Lórien the ancient things still lived on in the waking world.