Disclaimer: Middle Earth and all its people belong to the Tolkien Estate. I own none of them. Some of them, however, seem to own me.

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A NEW RECKONING

PROLOGUE

Sam stayed at first with the Cottons’ with Frodo, but when the New Row was ready he went with the Gaffer. In addition to all his other labours he was busy directing the cleaning up and restoring of Bag End; but he was often away in the Shire on his forestry work. So he was not at home in early March and did not know that Frodo had been ill. On the thirteenth of that month Farmer Cotton found Frodo lying on his bed; he was clutching a white gem that hung on a chain about his neck and he seemed half in a dream.

“It is gone forever,” he said, “and now all is dark and empty.”

But the fit passed, and when Sam got back on the twenty-fifth, Frodo had recovered, and he said nothing about himself. In the meanwhile Bag End had been set back in order, and Merry and Pippin came over from Crickhollow bringing all the old furniture and gear, so that the old hole soon looked very much as it always had.

( The Return of the King, Book 6, Chapter IX, “The Grey Havens” )

The New Reckoning was begun in the restored Kingdom in T.A. 3019. It represented a return to Kings’ Reckoning adapted to fit a spring beginning as in the Eldarin loa.

In the New Reckoning the year began on March 25 old style, in commemoration of the fall of Sauron and the deeds of the Ring-bearers.

( The Return of the King, Appendix D, “The Calendars” )

What else happened in that first Spring after the Ring was destroyed and the Kingdoms were renewed?

A NEW RECKONING

CHAPTER 1: ECHOES OF A BAD TIME 

The Master of Buckland and his nephew Berilac were spending a fine morning in early spring inspecting the Ferry landing.

Berilac who was in a small boat, checking the pilings, called out “They look just fine, Uncle Saradoc! I don’t think they even need tarring!”

“That’s good,” he answered. “The decking is not in bad shape either, just three planks to be replaced. The uprights holding up the lanterns need some reinforcement as well.”

Another annual job done, and Berilac’s help appreciated, but Saradoc could not but help wishing it was his son, rather than his nephew, out here with him this fine morning. He shook his head at his own impatience--Merry’s return to the Shire, alive and in one piece was miracle enough. And it had been only a little over a week ago that he had feared he might lose his son yet. The thought of that day made him feel a bit weak in the knees, and he sat down on a handy barrel and took out his pipe, while he waited for Berilac to put away the boat and join him. It had been a frightening thing…

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It had been a Mersday, the fifteenth of Rethe. They’d not seen Merry for almost a week. He’d told his parents that his cousin Pippin, who shared the house at Crickhollow with him, was having nightmares again. As this was exactly the reason the cousins had moved in together, Saradoc and Esmeralda had been understanding.

However, on Hensday, Pippin’s oldest sister Pearl had arrived at Brandy Hall for a visit. When she heard the news, she insisted on going to Crickhollow the very next day to check on her brother, and spurred by her concern Merry’s parents went with her.

When the three arrived, late in the morning between elevenses and luncheon, they noticed the curtains still drawn, and no smoke issuing from the kitchen chimney. A brisk knock on the door brought no response after several minutes. Saradoc knocked again to no response.

Filled with sudden dread, he remembered that dark day nearly a year and a half ago when he had opened the wages ledger in his study to find the note that told him his only child was gone into deadly danger. He fumbled in his pockets for the spare key Merry had given him. But Pearl was impatient, and began rapping constantly on the door.

Just then they heard Pippin’s voice, high pitched and querulous. “Whoever it is, just *go away*!”

Saradoc had found the key. “Pippin! We are coming in!” He reached the key toward the keyhole, when the door was yanked open.

Pippin stood there, rumpled and disheveled, his face drawn and grey, his green eyes dull and shadowed. “Look, we are going to manage just fine!” They stared at him in shock. “What?” he snapped.

Suddenly fearful, Saradoc asked “Peregrin--where’s Merry?”

Pippin breathed out, deflated and defeated. “Merry--Merry is not well today.”

Esmeralda pushed past her nephew and headed for her son’s room. Pippin quickly caught her up, and took her arm. “Look, Aunt Esme, he doesn’t want you to see him this way.” He was swaying with exhaustion.

But he was too late. They had arrived at the open door to his cousin’s room.

Merry lay in the bed, his face as pale as the sheet except for his cheeks, which were flushed with fever; his right arm lay outside the covers atop the towel-wrapped hot bricks Pippin had placed there. The room was filled with the scent of athelas. Esmerelda rushed over to him, placing one hand on his forehead, and the other on his exposed arm. She gasped.

“He’s burning up with fever, but his arm is as cold as ice.” She looked at Pippin entreatingly.

Merry began to fret and murmur. “Where is the king?” he whispered. “Where is Éowyn?”

Pippin pushed his way to Merry’s side and bent over him, taking the icy hand in both of his and rubbing gently. “It’s all right, cousin. I’m here.”

He swayed again, and sat down abruptly on the bed, but without letting go of his cousin’s hand.

“Peregrin,” said Saradoc sternly and firmly, “what is wrong with him?”

“Lord Elrond and Strider said this might happen. They called it an ‘echo of the Black Breath’. You see, he was exposed to it twice before he ever helped to slay the Witch King at Pellenor. In Bree. And on Weathertop.  And the battle was one year ago today. If he can get through the day, he ought to be just fine again. Until next year. We were hoping they were wrong--they weren’t entirely sure about it--we thought we could handle it on our own.”

He bent his head over Merry’s cold hand, and wept.

Pearl bent down beside him. “Pippin, you’re exhausted.”

“Haven’t slept myself in a week. Nightmares.” His own echoes of a bad time: the palantír, the siege, Denethor’s pyre, Merry‘s near brush with death--

It had been a long and frightening day. Pippin could not be persuaded to leave Merry’s side, but Pearl finally talked him into laying down next to his cousin, and eventually both of them fell into a restless sleep. From Merry’s anguished murmurs and Pippin’s occasional outcry, the three watchers pieced together more than they wanted to know about what their loved ones had been through. By nightfall, their slumber had quieted.

As Pippin had said, by morning Merry was better. He was more than a little chagrined when he awakened to realize that his family had been there, but he was feeling a great deal better. His arm was no longer cold, though it remained stiff and numb for most of the day. He got up and took breakfast with his parents and Pearl, leaving Pippin to sleep on until luncheon.

True to his nature, Merry had only one thing on his mind once Pippin had awakened and taken a light meal. “You know what this means. If *I* was going through this, then it must have been a lot worse for Frodo.”

Pippin nodded. “Probably. But Sam would be there for him.”

Merry pursed his lips. “More than likely. But Sam’s had a lot going on lately, with it being spring, trying to restore the Shire. And Frodo’s pretty good at hiding trouble. I’ll feel easier in my mind once we get to Hobbiton and check on him. We’ve got to start returning his things to Bag End anyway.”

Saradoc was not happy with this idea--not after what his son had just come through, but Merry could not be dissuaded. He would go check on Frodo as soon as possible.

The two of them had taken a cart-load of things with them, followed by hired carters with two laden waggons. They had returned a few days later, but they would not answer Saradoc’s and Esmeralda’s questions except to say that Frodo was “all right, *now*”. Yesterday they had left once more, with another cart-load of Frodo’s possessions, and were probably more than halfway there by now.

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CHAPTER 2: UNEXPECTED NEWS 

“Uncle Saradoc?” Berilac’s voice sounded slightly impatient.

With a start, Saradoc realized that his nephew must have spoken his name more than once. “I’m sorry, Beri. I was just thinking.”

“It’s all right, uncle. They’ll be back in about four days, they said.”

Saradoc stood up and gave his nephew’s shoulder a squeeze. “You’re a good lad, Beri. I appreciate your help.”

Berilac blushed, but was saved having to reply by the sound of a pony rapidly approaching.

“Master Brandybuck! Master Brandybuck!” It was one of the Banks lads, who helped to tend the Brandywine Bridge. He dismounted at a run.

“Easy, lad, catch your breath! Now, what is it?”

“There are Men at the Bridge. They want to come into the Shire!”

Berilac paled, but the Master of Buckland remained calm. “Are there now? I’m assuming they’ve posed no threat so far, or you’d be blowing the Horn-call, not bringing a message in person.”

“No, they’ve not done anything wrong. They’ve set up camp north of the Road--there are quite a few of them, but only two came to talk to us at the gate.” For one of the few innovations of Sharkey that had been allowed to remain in the Shire was the gate across the Bridge. “They said they’ve business with Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin--only they called them Sir Meriadoc and Sir Peregrin. And they’re dressed in those same kinds of outfits that Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin wear a lot of the time. They said they want permission to enter the Shire.”

Saradoc smiled. He was suddenly enlightened. He turned to his nephew who was still looking a bit puzzled, though certainly relieved to know that these Men were not ruffians and enemies. “Beri, didn’t Merry tell us that the Men in the South will celebrate the twenty-fifth of Rethe as the New Year?”

“Yes, he did. He said it was because that was the day Frodo saved the world and brought about a new age.” Berilac was still not sure what was going on, but it was obvious that his uncle had some idea in mind.

Saradoc turned to the messenger. “Lad, you go on up to the Hall, tell them I said to feed you, and that I want my pony saddled up. I’ll be going back with you. Beri, you also get a pony. I want you to go after Merry and Pippin, let them know they have company. Remind Merry of the date. He’ll know what it’s about then.”

“All right, Uncle Saradoc. I’m on my way.”

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“You know, Merry, it would have saved a great deal of trouble if we had just left this stuff at Bag End to begin with,” said Pippin. He was impatient with the slow pace of the journey by cart. On ponyback, and unencumbered, they would have been in Hobbiton a long time ago, instead of only a little more than halfway there.

“Oh, yes, Pip. Brilliant. Leave it there for the S-B.s and Sharkey! It would have been nothing but kindling by now. At least this way, Frodo gets almost all his things back.” Merry shook his head. Pippin had changed and grown in a lot of ways, but patient he would never be.

“Ah, well, yes.” Pippin sat back, only slightly abashed, and jiggled his foot. If he couldn’t ride, he'd rather walk. Well, no, maybe not, with his knee. But a cart was so slow. He fidgeted.

Merry noticed. He decided to try a change of subject. “Sam will be really upset when he finds out Frodo’s been ill while he was gone.”

“He should be. He’d been warned by Lord Elrond, just like I had about you. He should have remembered.” Pippin was still angry at Sam over this.

“Don’t,” said Merry.

“What do you mean ‘don’t’?” asked Pippin, although he knew perfectly well.

“Don’t give him a hard time over it. He’s harder on himself than either of us would ever be on him. Also, Frodo would be really upset if he realized you were angry at Sam, and why. We‘re not even supposed to know that Frodo was sick.”

“I suppose.” Pippin sat back, quietly.

Merry began to count in his head--one, two, three, four, five--his cousin’s foot start to twitch. He suppressed a smile. “Sing for me, Pip.”

Pippin brightened up. “Oh! All right, then!” He thought for a moment, and then started in.

Old Tom Bombadil was a merry fellow;
bright blue his jacket was and his boots were yellow,
green were his girdle and his breeches all of leather; ,
he wore in his tall hat a swan-wing feather, ,
he lived up under Hill, where the Withywindle,
ran from a grassy well down into the dingle.,
Old Tom in summertime walked about the meadows ,
gathering the buttercups, running after shadows, ,
tickling the bumblebees that buzzed among the flowers ,
sitting by the waterside for hours upon hours….” (1)

Merry grinned as Pippin sang on. It was an old song Bucklanders had known for years, but it was a lot more fun to listen to, now he knew it was mostly true. It was rather a long song, and when Pippin finally finished, he paused to drink from his waterskin. Then he started in on a bawdy tavern song he had learned in Minas Tirith; Merry joined in on the choruses.

Then they sang together, old Bilbo’s favorite song about “The Road Goes Ever On”. After this, both were quiet for a time, thinking fondly of the old hobbit in Rivendell, and wondering how he fared.

Then Pippin’s voice soared.

Orthannen im viól,
Coil e dû,
Or hiriath naur,
Na rovail mae sui ’waew,
Man prestant i ardhon?,
Cerithar ain iliad dim ú thenin? (2)

“Pip, that was beautiful! What’s it mean, do you know?” For though Pippin did not speak or understand Elvish, he’d learned several songs in that language. He only needed to hear a song a few times to learn it by heart, whether he knew what it meant or not. He’d also learned a couple of Rohirric songs as well.

“Not a clue, actually,” he answered. “Legolas sang that to Frodo and Sam in Ithilien, while we waited for them to wake up. I never asked him what it meant, I just liked how it sounded, soaring up, like flying. Of course, he sang it better.” Pippin was completely unselfconscious about his singing. He knew he sang well for a hobbit.

Merry chuckled. “Yes. Well. He’s an Elf.”

They had been travelling some considerable time as they sang, and were coming in sight of the Three Farthing Stone, when they heard behind them the rapidly approaching sound of hooves, galloping by the sound of it.

Merry pulled over and the two of them jumped out. They still travelled armed and armored, though they believed the last of the ruffians had been run out before Yule. But they quickly realized it was only a hobbit on a pony.

“Hoy! Merry! Pippin!”

Berilac? Merry’s eyes widened in fearful alarm. Could something be wrong with his parents? Pippin squeezed his arm reassuringly.

But Berilac was there. He stopped the pony. “Merry, Pippin, Uncle Saradoc sent me to find you and tell you. You have guests; Men dressed in livery like yours, waiting at the Bridge.”

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(1) Taken from “The Adventures of Tom Bombadil” from The Tolkien Reader

(2) Taken from the Soundtrack of the motion picture The Return of the King

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CHAPTER 3

Saradoc found Esmeralda supervising the spring cleaning in some of the lesser used tunnels. He wanted to let her know where he was going and why.

“Oh, Sara--what could those men want with our lads now?” For she feared that perhaps they had come to take them away on another quest.

“Never fear, my dear. I do believe I know what they want, and it will be quite well. Remember the letter that Merry’s King of Rohan sent us when he came home?”

“Ah!” That was better. Now she knew. Relieved, she gave her husband a hug, and reminded him to wear a scarf. “For it may be spring, but it’s early yet, and can still be very chilly.”

He went out, to find the messenger waiting with both the ponies. “Well, lad--which Banks are you?”

“Rolly, sir.”

“Very well, Rolly, let us make haste to Brandywine Bridge.”

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Denny Banks sat outside the gatehouse with the two Men. It was strange, they looked like large versions of Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin in their warlike get-up and with their swords and armor and all, yet even with all that, they did not seem so threatening as those ruffians who had over-run the Shire last year. These two were soft-spoken and mannerly, and very formal in their speech, not at all like the crude, coarse and cruel Men that Denny had seen before.

Right now he listened in fascination as they told of the deeds of Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin. They seemed right proud of those two, just as if they were kin or something. The one in black and silver had told as how Mr. Pippin had saved a prince from being burned alive by his own father, and then how he had slain a great troll. Seems trolls were real, and not just something made up by old Mad Baggins. They sounded right frightful--how could a hobbit kill a great creature like that?

And now the one in green and white was telling how Mr. Merry destroyed a wicked sorcerer with the help of a princess. Although this sounded unlikely, the fellow seemed quite serious about it. There was nothing to show he was having one on or making it up. He said as how Mr. Merry was a great warrior--now that Denny could believe, after seeing how he had dealt with those ruffians in the Shire. Maybe after all those other great deeds, ruffians had seemed a little tame.

Just as the Men had begun to ask polite questions about the Shire, they heard the sound of ponies approaching. It was Rolly and Master Brandybuck.

The two men stood up. Denny flinched. While he had been sitting on a barrel, and they upon the ground, he had forgotten for a while just how large they were.

Rolly and Saradoc dismounted and approached.

“Good day. I am Saradoc Brandybuck, father of Meriadoc, at your service.”

The two men bowed. The one in black and silver spoke. “Greetings, Lord Brandybuck, I am Targon, of the Third Company of the Guard of the Citadel in Minas Tirith. My companion is Éothain, of the personal éored of the King of Rohan. We have business with your son, Sir Meriadoc and with his cousin Sir Peregrin, as well as a message from King Elessar for yourself and other worthies of your land, the Thain as I believe he is called, and for the Ringbearer Frodo Baggins--” Targon’s voice took on an almost reverential note when he spoke that name, “who we are given to understand holds also an office of importance.”

The one in green spoke. “It is good to meet the father of our Holdwine. We had hoped to soon see him.”

Saradoc bowed slightly himself, somewhat flustered, though he hoped he did not show it. “Welcome to the Shire, Targon and Éothain. I am no ‘Lord’, for we use no such titles here in the Shire, but am the Master of Buckland. I am sorry to say that my son and his cousin are two or three days journey from here. However, I have sent someone after them to tell them of your presence, and that they should come back straightaway. I would imagine that Frodo will accompany them, since they have gone to see him.”

The two Men looked disappointed, but not surprised. “We will wait; there is no hurry now that we have arrived upon the appointed day. Are you having no celebrations here?” said Targon.

Rolly and Denny, who had been following the exchange with fascination, looked puzzled. Saradoc flushed. How to explain to these Men, who wished to honor his kin, that the hobbits of the Shire did not really know much of what the four Travellers had done, especially Frodo? How to explain that even had they known, they would not have understood the importance of his deed? He suddenly felt embarrassed at realizing how little honor Frodo and Sam had received in their own homeland. Aloud, he merely said “We still observe the New Year at the end of Yule.”

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Merry and Pippin gaped at one another. Messengers from the South? Already?

Berilac said “Merry, your father said to remind you of the date.”

“Of course!” Merry smacked himself in the forehead. “It’s the New Year for Rohan and Gondor! I should have been expecting this.” But somehow he had managed to forget all about it.

Pippin laughed. “Who else would forget two ponies and a hundred silver pennies?”

“Don’t laugh at me, cousin. There seems to be a delegation from Gondor as well as from Rohan. Who knows what Aragorn has sent to you?”

Berilac looked puzzled. “Uncle Saradoc seemed to know what this was all about, but I certainly don’t.”

Merry blushed. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s simple, Beri,” Pippin explained. “Last year when we left Rohan, King Éomer wanted to give Merry all kinds of wonderful gifts, but my cousin, being the noble fellow he is turned them all down except for the silver horn Lady Éowyn gave him. However, his liege is a determined fellow, so he sent a message to Uncle Saradoc, informing him that every spring on New Year’s Day he’d be sending good Sir Meriadoc two ponies and a hundred silver pennies.”

Beri whistled. Merry shook his head and rolled his eyes. He could not help it if this whole thing made him feel uncomfortable.

Pippin smiled fondly at his older cousin. Though he teased him, he knew the real reason Merry was uncomfortable with this. For even though the small Knight of Rohan *knew* without any doubt that he could not have done anything, in his heart he still felt guilty that he did not somehow save King Théoden, whom he had dearly loved. He knew Merry also still felt guilty that they had allowed themselves to become separated from Frodo. That was a bit of guilt he felt himself from time to time.

“Well,” he said “this isn’t getting this cartload of stuff any closer to Bag End; we can’t go back until we get rid of it. I suggest we get on with it since we have guests waiting at the Bridge.”

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Sam approached the Cotton farm with a light step. He would be glad to see Mr. Frodo and his Rosie again, after traipsing all over the Shire trying to undo the damage that old Saruman had caused with his wicked deviltry. He’d been gone since the first week of Rethe, and here they were almost to the end of the month. Right about the middle of that time, he’d been so lonesome he’d had a couple of those nasty nightmares about old Shelob. But he was back now, and today they’d be finishing up Bag End, and Mr. Frodo could finally go home.

He looked up to see Rosie running to meet him, and he opened his arms for her. He enfolded her in a gentle embrace and breathed in the scent of her hair. “Oh, lass, it’s so good to see you again.”

“I’ve missed you, Sam. I think I missed you even more than I did when you were gone last year.”

“How is everything? How is Mr. Frodo?”

Rosie stiffened.

“What is it, Rose? Is something wrong with Mr. Frodo?” Suddenly he remembered--he should never have forgotten--Lord Elrond and Strider had both warned him--he paled. “Oh, Sam, you ninnyhammer! How could you have forgotten your poor Mr. Frodo!”

“Sam, he’s all right, now! He had a bad couple of days, but he’s fine. Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin came to check on him afterward. He didn’t want us to tell them, or you, but I couldn’t keep that back from them. Please don’t let on that you know!”

Sam turned away from her, tears standing his eyes, and his fists clenched at his sides. “Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin will think I’m not fit for anything. And they’d be right. But if Mr. Frodo wants to pretend nothing happened, I will have to try to act like I don’t know. But to go off on my own like that when I should have *remembered*! There’s no hard name anyone could call me that I don’t deserve.”

Rose knew better than to argue with him, but she put her arms back around the still form of her betrothed, and after a moment he relaxed and returned her embrace. He’d not stopped blaming himself, but he’d put it aside for now, for Mr. Frodo’s sake. And he’d be seeing Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin later on today or tomorrow when they got here with the rest of the furnishings for Bag End. He’d be ready to endure any hard words they would have for him.

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Merry and Pippin, accompanied by Berilac, went straight to Bag End with their cart-load. It was near teatime and Frodo came out to greet them cheerily enough.

“Well met, cousins! Come on in. Sam’s put the kettle on; you’re just in time for tea.”

But Merry noticed that he bustled them into the kitchen without letting them look him in the eye.

Sam, however, met their gaze directly, and flushed. He looked apprehensive. So. He had found out--probably Rosie told him. Now he was expecting, maybe even hoping, for a tongue-lashing as soon as Frodo was out of ear-shot.

Pippin’s chin came up, and his green eyes glittered. Merry decided that if Pippin still wanted to upbraid Sam, he would not interfere. It might be more merciful than letting the gardener stew in his own guilt.

Meanwhile, they had news to convey. With the Men who were waiting back at the Bridge, they would have to get back as soon as possible.

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CHAPTER 4: BACK TO BUCKLAND

After Saradoc and the two messengers from the South had exchanged courtesies and greetings, they invited him to come to their camp and meet the rest of their party. He was more than willing to do so; these soft-spoken Men intrigued him, and he was curious to see what the others were like.

He mounted his own pony, and trotted alongside the two large horses of the Men for the short distance to their campsite, which was located a little distance north of the Road and east of the Bridge.

He saw the figures of several more Men taking their ease about a campfire, some of them seeming to be attending to such chores as mending clothing or sharpening weapons; all were clad in either the black and silver or the green and white he was becoming used to. There was one figure, much smaller than the rest, also clad in the black and silver, attending to the scrubbing of pots. As he grew closer, he realized that this was only a child, and was amazed to see him among all these grown Men.

When they had approached within hailing distance, all of them stopped what they were doing, and stood respectfully in a line.

His escorts dismounted, and waited for him to do the same.

It was Éothain who spoke first, this time, introducing the Men of Rohan.

“Master Brandybuck, these are the men of our éored, who earned the honor of coming here. All of them speak the Common Speech of the West, and all of them know the Holdwine Meriadoc, having ridden with him. They are Anwynd Anfrith’s son, Danulf Danhelm’s son and Leodwald Leofric’s son.” The men all bowed politely. To Saradoc’s eyes they all looked much alike, large and fair and yellow-haired, with beards. “This is Saradoc Rorimac’s son, Master of Buckland and father of our dear Meriadoc.”

Now Targon took over the introductions of the Men of Gondor, who were dark of hair and somewhat taller than their companions. “These are Artamir and Adrahil, sons of Mardil, and Borondir, son of Berehil. All are members of the Third Company, and known to Sir Peregrin. And this is Bergil, son of Beregond,” he said, indicating the child, “who has joined us for this mission. He was good friends with Sir Peregrin during the siege of the White City.” Targon looked around. “Where are our other two companions?”

“Sir,” said the one called Artamir “some time ago they said they were taking a stroll among the trees yonder.” He indicated a wooded area to the east of the campsite.

Just then they came walking out of the trees. Saradoc was expecting two more Men. He was quite surprised then, to see an Elf. And a Dwarf.

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When Merry told Frodo the news of the delegation from the South waiting at the Bridge, his older cousin was thoughtful for a few moments.

“Merry, you and Pippin need to return as soon as possible, and it seems likely that Sam and I should come along. But I also think that someone needs to notify the Thain. Berilac, do you think that you could do us a favor, and ride on over to Tuckborough to give Paladin this news? I think that his presence will be needed as well.”

Berilac was flattered that Frodo thought enough of him to give him the errand, and readily agreed. After tea, the five of them quickly unloaded the last of Frodo’s possessions from the cart. Then they had an early supper and prepared to leave at once.

They left the cart behind. Merry and Pippin rode the cart-ponies, and Frodo and Sam rode their own ponies, Strider and Bill. Merry wished he had Stybba, but his sturdy little Rohan pony was back in Buckland, as was Pippin's mare, Butter.

Frodo knew the main reason for Éomer and Aragorn sending the Men--he had been well aware of the plans to reward his cousins, and was all in favor of it as long as there were no surprises for him in store. He did not think there would be. He had made it very clear to Aragorn that he would be not only offended and angry, but hurt, if the King tried to send him any kind of material rewards. The only reward he had wanted was good governance for the Shire, and he knew that Aragorn would do his best to provide that no matter what.

But Frodo also suspected that there would be a response to the letter that had been sent to the King with the recommendations of the Thain and the Master, as well as from the Deputy Mayor. He still was uncomfortable with that job, and hoped that by the end of summer, Will Whitfoot would be recovered enough from his illness to take up his old duties.

Berilac said goodbye at the Three Farthing Stone and headed south. The Travellers turned their ponies’ noses to the east and hoped to make the best time they could.

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CHAPTER 5

Saradoc had spent a bit of time with the visitors in their camp, but he declined their invitation to stay for the evening. He knew that if he did not return to Brandy Hall by nightfall, Esmeralda would be frantic with worry.

Although it would be tiring, he’d go home tonight, and then return first thing in the morning.

He invited them to break camp and return with him to Buckland, but they felt it was better to wait for the formal permission of all three Shire leaders. For even though it was only a suggestion, so far, and not a decree, the King wished to carry through with keeping Men out of the Shire without that permission.

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As most of the inns had yet to be rebuilt, the four hobbits decided to camp out just east of Whitfurrow. The first thing they did, after a bite to eat, was to choose watches. Sam offered to go first, and Pippin immediately volunteered to relieve him. He flashed a half-defiant look at Merry, who merely shrugged, saying he’d go next.

Frodo gave Merry a stern look. “I am not the Ringbearer any longer, cousin Meriadoc, nor in any need of coddling. If you fail to wake me for my turn, I shall be seriously vexed with you.”

Merry nodded ruefully. Sometimes Frodo knew him all too well. “I promise to wake you for your watch. I’ll be ready for more sleep by then.”

Frodo lay awake for a long time. He remembered when he, Sam and Pippin had camped the very first night of their journey. It had not even occurred to them to set a watch.

Now it did not even occur to them *not* to set a watch. It was just one more of the many ways they had all changed.

It was not necessarily a bad thing to be more alert, more aware of the possible dangers of the world, but it still made him feel sad. He reached for Arwen’s jewel, that lay upon his breast, and searched the sky for Eärendil; soon after he found it, sleep finally claimed him.

Sam watched as Frodo’s face finally relaxed into sleep. Ever since Rosie had told him Mr. Frodo had a bad turn while he was gone he felt like he had a lump of lead in his stomach. How could he have been so careless?

Just because they were home in the Shire, he’d let his guard down. It was wrong of him, he saw now, to think being home could fix everything. There were some things it could never fix.

He spent nearly his whole watch silently berating himself, and when Pippin came to relieve him, the light of battle in his green eyes, Sam was almost glad. Mr. Pippin hadn’t forgiven him yet, even if it appeared Mr. Merry had.

“Sam.”

Sam nodded, but made no move to go to his own rest. Instead, he moved bit further away from the sleeping Merry and Frodo. If Pippin was going to be angry with him, no need to wake the others. Pippin followed, knowing what was in his mind.

“Mr. Pippin, I know you’re angry with me. You have reason to be,” Sam whispered.

“You bet I do,” Pippin hissed. “Sam, we trusted you to keep an eye on Frodo. But you went off just at the time he would be needing you the most. We can’t watch over him from Buckland; we rely on you.”

“I know,” Sam replied miserably.

Pippin felt the wind going out of his sails. How could he lecture Sam if all he was going to do was agree? He wasn’t even trying to make excuses or defend himself. But Pippin still was not ready to let go. “You know, you stayed with him when it was worst. You got to help him then. It wasn’t fair. We left home for *him*, for *Frodo*, not to go save the world or something. But it was *you* who got to stay with him every step of the way, and now we’re home, and you get to stay with him again. We can’t help him again.” Pippin felt tears begin to threaten, and he did not know if they were tears of anger or of sorrow. “We can barely help ourselves. If we can’t trust you to take care of him, what will we do?” Now the tears came freely.

Sam’s own tears began to flow. “Oh, lad, I know. And I’m so sorry. Many’s the time in the Black Land that I wondered what it would have been like to have your help, you and Mr. Merry. I don’t know that anything would have been different, but we’d have been together. But all that’s done and over, and now we have to get on with our lives. It’s hard. It’s mortal hard. I was trusting too much to being home.”

Now Pippin’s anger was broken. He grabbed Sam in a sudden fierce embrace. “Just remember next time to let us know if you’re leaving him alone; we’ll see what we can do.” He stepped back and wiped his eyes. “Now, you go and get some rest, leave me to my watch.”

________________________________________________________

It was nearly midnight when Berilac rode into Tuckborough. The Leaping Hare was the only inn in the Shire that had not suffered during the Occupation, since the Tooks had so successfully defended Tookland. He went there to spend what was left of the night, as trying to rouse the Thain this time of night would have been a major production, involving dozens of Tooks, and most of the inhabitants of the Great Smials.

He took the precaution of asking the innkeeper to rouse him early, well before first breakfast.

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CHAPTER 6

Merry’s watch had been quiet, not that he expected anything else, here in the heart of the Shire, now that Saruman’s bullies had been run off. Still, he had learned on the Quest that expectations are not always met, and so he stayed alert and wary.

Thankfully, Pip had relieved his mind to Sam. Merry had not been angry with the gardener for not remembering what might happen with Frodo, because he knew why he had forgotten. Though he and Sam were a lot alike, in one important way they were very different. Sam was more of an optimist than Merry ever could be. Sam still thought that “home” could be again what it once was. He was beginning to learn differently now, and Merry did not look forward to his friend’s disillusionment.

It was time to wake Frodo for his watch. Merry walked over to where his older cousin lay, pale and peaceful in his sleep. He crouched down and studied the fair face, so beloved from his earliest memory. He hated to wake him, and had it not been for Frodo’s stern warning, he would have simply taken his watch. But he knew that his cousin would be not only angry, but hurt, if he disregarded his wishes. He reached down and gently brushed back the dark curls. “Frodo,” he whispered.

Frodo woke instantly, alert. This was another thing that had changed because of the Ring. Frodo used to be notoriously difficult to awaken.

He sat up. “Thank you, Merry. Get some rest now.”

Merry gave him a brief hug about the shoulders, and then went to lay down next to Pippin, where he soon fell asleep.

Frodo went to sit by the dying embers of the fire and took out his pipe. He felt the familiar pangs of loneliness and loss. The old ones, the ones that had haunted him long before the Ring. The ones the Ring had tried to latch onto when it probed his weaknesses and tried to seduce him.

For him, life had changed forever with his parents’ death. The Brandywine had stolen away his connection to other people. Oh, Saradoc and Esmeralda had tried so hard, and he did love them dearly, but their efforts only reminded him of what he had lost. It was not until the day they had put that tiny little bundle of eyes and curls in his arms and said “meet your cousin Meriadoc,” that he had felt not only love, but connection. Someone who was *his*. Of course, Merry was his cousin, and not a brother, but that had never mattered. He felt as though he belonged to Merry. Later there were a few others who brought him that feeling: Bilbo, Pippin, Sam, Gandalf, Aragorn. When he thought about it, it was a pitifully short list. And even though he had developed much stronger bonds with Sam during their dark journey, nothing would change the fact that Merry was the first one who broke his loneliness, and who knew how to do that to this day.

Frodo looked up to the lightening sky. Morning would come soon, and they would be on their way.

________________________________________________________

Berilac woke to the sound of the innkeeper knocking at his door, and remembered his errand.

After dressing and eating a hurried and early first breakfast, he made his way to the Great Smials. It took him a bit of time to convince the hobbit who answered his knock at the door that it really was important that he see the Thain right away. It helped, apparently, that he was a Brandybuck.

Paladin and Eglantine were having a rare breakfast alone. All their daughters were away from home right now, along with sons-in-law and grandchildren. They were enjoying the peace and quiet, and the chance to be together. So Paladin was not a little irritated when the servant interrupted to tell him someone had arrived with an urgent message; he would have told them to wait--until it was mentioned that the message was from a Brandybuck.

The Thain and his wife looked at one another in alarm. The last urgent message from Buckland had been to tell them that their only son had vanished from the Shire. “Send him in at once,” said Paladin, looking at Eglantine’s fearful face.

Berilac came in. “Hello, Paladin, Eglantine.”

“Berilac.” This was Saradoc’s nephew. Now he was even more worried. “Is something wrong with Pippin?”

“No! No, nothing like that!” he hastened to reassure them. “There is a delegation from the kings of the South waiting at the Brandywine Bridge. Uncle Saradoc went to meet them. Merry, Pippin, Frodo and Samwise are also on their way there from Hobbiton--they left last night. Frodo thought that your presence might be needed as well.”

“Indeed,” said Paladin. “I will come with you at once.”

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CHAPTER 7

Dawn had barely broken when the four hobbits were mounted and on their way to the Bridge. If they kept a brisk pace, they would probably be there before elevenses, maybe even by second breakfast.

They did not talk much; they had not camped since their return, and so were feeling the effects of sleeping on the ground once more. Also, each of them was absorbed in his own thoughts.

Merry missed his Stybba. This little cart pony was a nice enough fellow, but he couldn’t hold a candle to Merry’s mount from Rohan. He could not help but feel a sense of anticipation over the two ponies that would await him, and he felt a little guilty about that, considering he had said he did not want them.

Pippin was curious. He had the feeling Merry was right, and that Aragorn had indeed sent him some sort of lavish stipend; he could not help but wonder what it might be. He also speculated over who Aragorn would have chosen to go on such a mission. Would any of his friends have come?

Frodo was thinking about Aragorn’s reply to the letter that he, Paladin and Saradoc had sent, in answer to the King’s own proclamation. Knowing him as he did, he was sure that it would be in the affirmative. But there might be reasons of state that could interfere. Still, he trusted Aragorn and Faramir to do right by the Shire. He just hoped that Paladin and Saradoc would agree. He also wondered who would be in the delegation, and if he would know any of them.

Only Sam was not thinking about who or what was awaiting them at the Bridge. His thoughts were some thirteen leagues behind and a little over a month ahead--Sam was thinking about Rosie and his upcoming wedding. They thought to have it in the Party Field, where he had planted the little mallorn tree. Most of the plans had been made, but Sam had an important decision to make--did he want Mr. Frodo to stand with him, or did he want Mr. Frodo to conduct the ceremony? He knew that whatever he asked, his master would do. But that meant that he could only do one or the other. And that meant someone else would have the other job. It was a dilemma he was going to have to solve soon. The first of Thrimidge would be coming before he knew it. And Rosie was eager to know the answer. Rosie, his Rosie. He gave a sigh, and wished they had not had to make this little trip right now. He’d only just got back; he missed her again.

________________________________________________

Saradoc had arisen before it was light, and had gone on his way almost immediately, taking only a small bite and sip for first breakfast. He was sure that the lads would be hurrying along, and he wanted to make sure that he arrived either before them, or at the same time. He wanted to witness for himself their reunion with their friends.

Fortunately, he did arrive first. He went to the gatehouse where he found the Banks brothers on duty again. But there was a small crowd of local hobbits also gathered, attracted by the gossip and the prospect of a spectacle. He decided not to disperse them. There was no need to keep any of this secret, and the more who saw the conduct of these Men the better. It might help to take away the sour taste left by the Occupation last year if it were seen that not all Men were alike.

After a few moments, Targon and Éothain arrived, accompanied this time by the rest of the delegation and by Legolas and Gimli. The presence of the Elf, the Dwarf and the child caused even more gossip to buzz, and Saradoc found himself amused. He had been surprised and pleased to meet the two odd companions who had been such stalwart friends to his kin on their journey. He remembered the story Merry had told him, of how these two had helped them to find the gifts he and Pippin had brought home to the families. He watched the fond banter and mock quarreling of Elf and Dwarf that reminded him of nothing so much as the way his son and his nephew got on together. And that surprised him too, for all the tales he knew said that Elves and Dwarves did not get on at all.

Just then, the crowd began to part for the arrival of four riders. The first shout he heard was Pippin’s followed closely by his son’s.

“Legolas! Gimli! Bergil?”

Somehow both Merry and Pippin managed to hit the ground running, followed only slightly slower by Frodo and Sam. Pippin hit first, propelling himself into Gimli’s arms, while simultaneously pulling on Legolas. But it was only an instant before it was a six way hug. Targon and Éothain stood by looking amused and chagrinned. They had perhaps had some dignified speech they were supposed to present, but the moment was definitely lost. Pippin pulled away from Gimli and Legolas to grab young Bergil by both hands, all the while laughing and asking non-stop questions which he gave the lad no time to answer.

Saradoc gave a cough, to see if he could get someone’s attention. Merry broke away. “Oh, Da! Have you met everybody?”

“Yes, son, I certainly have. But don’t you think it might be polite to let your guests get a word in edgewise?”

Merry blushed, and grabbed Pippin’s arm. “Sir Peregrin” he hissed as a reminder. About that time, Frodo and Sam also realized that they needed to present a more dignified bearing in the presence of an official delegation. Legolas and Gimli stepped back, still wearing amused and fond expressions.

The four hobbits stood before the Men, lined up in front of them, and Targon and Éothain stepped forward. They greeted Merry and Pippin as Sir Meriadoc and Sir Peregrin, with a slight bow of the head, and the warrior‘s salute of a fist to the heart. Then they turned to Frodo and Sam. “Ringbearers,” said Targon respectfully, as the entire group of Men went to their knees. Frodo and Sam blushed, and felt quite out of countenance. It had been bad enough being bowed to in Gondor, but here, home in the Shire and in front of a crowd of other hobbits it was mortifying.

“Please,” said Frodo, “do not kneel to us. It is not a custom here in the Shire.” That was an understatement. He could hear the buzz of gossip already. He was beginning to feel rather annoyed with Aragorn. He could have warned these Men a little better about hobbit customs. Frodo had no way of knowing that the soldiers had received their final instructions from the Steward, whose last words had been to “show all honor to the Ringbearers.”

But Merry and Pippin were grinning, and Saradoc was pleased. Perhaps this might go to show some of these narrow minded hobbits the respect that was due to Frodo and Sam.

___________________________________________________

CHAPTER 8

Now Targon and Éothain introduced each of the Men by name. Merry and Pippin grinned at them--they knew all of them, some better than others, from the time they had spent among them in Minas Tirith and Edoras, both during and after the War. Frodo and Sam had also met them before, but only briefly and though they vaguely remembered some of them, they were glad to be introduced again.

After the introductions, Targon and Éothain gave a signal to Borondir and Danulf, who walked back to where the horses were waiting. For the first time the hobbits noticed the animals; Pippin realized with a slight shiver that there were not two but *three* ponies waiting there. Danulf led back two of the ponies, and Borondir led back the third one, along with a horse that was obviously a pack animal.

“Holdwine Meriadoc Saradoc’s son, these are as promised to you by Éomer King,” Éothain said. Danulf led forward the two ponies, one of them a white gelding, the other a pretty little grey mare. “These are Pybba, who was sired by your Stybba, and Hilde.” Then the Man of Rohan took from the pack animal a small chest, which he placed in Merry’s arms. He handed Merry a small key.

Though Merry’s face had lit up at the sight of the ponies, he now looked a bit apprehensive. For one thing, he had not realized that these gifts were to be given so publicly. He looked entreatingly at his father, who merely nodded, and then at Pippin, who shrugged sympathetically, but reached to help hold the chest, so that Merry could use the key. With a trembling hand, he unlocked it and lifted the lid. The glitter of silver could be seen by all, and there was a collective gasp from the assembled crowd. He closed it rather quickly and locked it back. He handed the chest to his father.

But now it was Pippin’s turn to look apprehensive. Targon smiled as Borondir led forward a beautiful little black pony. “This is Sable. He is not of Rohan, but is from the stables of Prince Imrahil in Dol Amroth.” Then Borondir lifted down another chest, similar to the one given to Merry, only slightly larger. Pippin’s eyes grew wide, and now it was Merry’s turn to hold the chest while Pippin turned the key and lifted the lid.

This chest, too, held the sheen of silver within. Yet on top, was also the gleam of gold. Pippin lifted up a chain forged of heavy golden links. From it hung a medallion. One side of the medallion was enameled with the sable and argent device of Gondor; on the other side was embossed the monogram of the Tooks. He held it up in awe, and there was another gasp from the crowd. Merry took it and proudly lifted it over his cousin’s head, to hang gleaming upon his breast.

Targon spoke again. “Sir Peregrin, His Majesty asked me to tell you that this year, your stipend as a retainer of his service is one hundred fifty silver pennies, this pony--a stallion of Dol Amroth, and this chain of Knighthood. Hereafter, your annual stipend shall be two hundred fifty silver pennies delivered each Spring on New Year’s Day.”

Pippin’s voice sounded a bit husky, but he rose to the occasion. “Please tell King Elessar that his generosity is most appreciated.”

Now Targon turned to Frodo and Sam. “Ringbearers, true to your expressed wishes, His Majesty refrained from sending any further reward other than to remind you once more of his undying gratitude. Know that at any time you may call upon him for anything at all, and it will be granted. However, Samwise Gamgee--” and here Targon took out a small box he had pocketed in his tunic “King Elessar and Queen Arwen hope that you will accept this small gift for your bride along with their felicitations on your upcoming marriage.”

Sam blushed, and stammered his thanks as he took the small box. Merry elbowed him lightly and Frodo gave him a smiling nod, so he opened it. There, on a delicate chain of mithril, was a tiny, perfectly formed golden rose. Tears sprang to his eyes, as he imagined his Rosie’s face when she saw this. Good old Strider and his beautiful queen--they’d make his Rosie so very happy.

Now Targon turned to Saradoc. “Master Brandybuck, there is more official business to be conducted; however, we think that we must wait for the arrival of the Thain. That does not look likely to occur today?”

“No,” replied Saradoc. “He has a further distance to come, although I am sure he will make all haste; he is unlikely to be here before late tomorrow.”

__________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 9

The hobbits of the Bridgefields area, and the surrounding lands as far west as Whitfurrow and as far south as Newbury had been hearing about this business of the Men from the King. They had been gathering since the day before, and now there was quite an assembly, ready to hold an impromptu festival. With no formal organization at all, baskets of food began to make an appearance, as well as vendors of food. A celebratory air began to be felt.

Saradoc was relieved. The good manners of the Men, as well as their respectful attitude, not to mention the gifts they had brought, had impressed the local hobbitry no end. He had feared that lingering resentment towards the ruffians would spoil this unexpected visit, but so far there had been no open signs of it. Of course, he was not fool enough to think that meant there was none at all. But the general atmosphere now was light-hearted.

He looked over to where Frodo, Sam and Merry were in animated discussion with the Elf, Legolas, and the Dwarf, Gimli. He thought perhaps it was the happiest he had seen any of them since their return. Pippin was talking to the lad Bergil. As he watched, Pippin drew the child away and brought him over. It was odd to realize how young he must be, though he overtopped Peregrin by more than a foot.

“Uncle, I know that you were introduced to my friend Bergil, but I don’t know if you realize just what good friends he and his father Beregond were for me during the Siege.” He glanced up fondly at the child. “His father is serving with Prince Faramir in Ithilien right now, and could not be spared for this visit. But the King thought that Bergil might enjoy this chance to come and see me. He has been serving as page and squire to all the Men who came.”

“How old are you, Bergil?” Saradoc asked politely.

“Why I turned eleven just before we left the White City, sir.”

Now Saradoc was shocked. He had known the lad was young, but not *that* young! And for his father to allow him to travel hundreds of miles away from his family like this! Truly, Men were stranger than he had thought.

Pippin was amused. He knew what his uncle was thinking. “It’s all right, Uncle Saradoc. The children of Men grow up more quickly, and Bergil has had a lot of responsibility before.” Now his face grew sober. “Being in a City at War does make one grow up quickly.”

His uncle knew that he was not talking only about this child, his friend. Pippin, too, had grown up quickly in a City at War.

“Anyway,” Pippin continued, “We are prevailing on Legolas and Gimli to come back down to Crickhollow with us, as well as Frodo and Sam. I’d like Bergil to come, too, if Targon will give permission. But there’s the matter of space at Crickhollow, and I was wondering if you and Aunt Esme might put Bergil up at the Hall. I don’t imagine my father will be here before late tomorrow at the soonest, and until the new inn is finished, there’s no place to stay here.”

Saradoc smiled. “I don’t see why not. I’m sure your aunt would enjoy meeting him.”

Bergil’s face broke into a wide grin. “Thank you, Master Brandybuck! Thank you, Sir Peregrin!”

Pippin looked up at the child sternly. “When we are on duty, you may call me ‘Sir Peregrin’. The rest of the time, you are just my friend, and you must call me Pippin, as you used to.”

The child ducked his head, abashed. “Yes, Pippin.”

“That’s better.”

_________________________________________________________

After a bit of discussion, Paladin and Berilac had decided to take the Tuckborough Road to Woodhall, and then cut across to Buckleberry Ferry. They knew that it would take at least two days to make the journey, and as Paladin said, with no inn at the Bridge right now, it was more than likely that they would actually find everyone at Brandy Hall anyway; if not, it would take no longer to approach the Bridge from the south than it would to have to ride north to the road that ran through Frogmorton. Paladin had kin living near the western edge of Woody End, where they could stay the night.

Paladin was taking the time to get to know Berilac. He had met him a time or two, but he did not know him well as he did Merry, who had spent nearly as much time growing up in Tuckborough as he had in Buckland.

It was clear that even though Beri was actually a couple of years older than Merry and nearly ten years older than Pippin, he had developed a serious case of hero worship for them both. Since he seemed to be a sensible lad, that must mean a lot. It was just so hard for Paladin to get used to the idea that his son had left as an irresponsible tweenager and returned as a seasoned warrior and a hero.

The Thain was worried over his son. He had badly mishandled Pippin’s return, and though they had reconciled, they had not really had time to mend all the broken places in their relationship yet. For it had been deemed urgent that Pippin and Merry be together and away from others, in order to deal with some of their more frightening memories.

Now with Pippin in Buckland at Crickhollow, he had no way to know how his son was really getting on. Oh, he wrote frequently enough, but he had never been a good correspondent. His letters were always brief, and usually uninformative. He shook his head ruefully, as he remembered the note he’d found in his son’s wastebasket after his disappearance. Apparently even Pippin had realized how useless it was as an explanation. Yet it was not much different from any letter he had ever written.

The need to know was one reason Pearl had gone to Buckland; she was still there. They’d had only one letter from her, and it had confirmed that Pippin was still suffering from nightmares. But it had not given any of the details he would have liked to know.

And now here were more Men to deal with. He had been pleased with what he had learned about the new King; but still he was wary about Men. Anyone who had been in the Shire when Lotho and Sharkey held sway would be.

He hoped that they were not going to regret this.

________________________________________________

While the four Travellers occupied themselves with their old friends, Saradoc began to circulate among the various groups of hobbits, staying far enough back not to interfere with conversation, but close enough to overhear what was being said.

He heard several garbled accounts of Bilbo’s disappearance, still good for gossip after nearly twenty years. He also heard a lot of talk about Lotho and the ruffians--the “new Men” as he was hearing them called, seemed to fare rather better by comparison, but there was still a note of suspicion in some voices. He heard some rather avaricious talk about the gifts that Merry and Pippin had received--several hobbits had thought of things for them to spend their silver on, at a nice profit; others were wondering about the ponies. He heard a deal of speculation as to what his son and his companions had done “away south”. He approached a group of hobbits who had started a small bonfire, and were roasting sausages on sticks.

“Well,” Denny Banks was saying, ”I know Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin did some right fierce fighting. I got that right from the two leaders of these Men. They were there.”

“Mebbe so,” said another skeptically, “but they sure act funny about Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee. Imagine getting down on their knees to them!”

“Did you hear that one say the King’d do anything Mr. Frodo wanted? Why would ‘e say a thing like that?”

“I was at Brandy Hall last fall,” said a rather stout fellow, “I was there when Mr. Merry gave Gil Chubb a serious tongue-lashing for daring to speak ill of Frodo Baggins.”

“I remember that. Such a look he gave him, it would have blistered the paint on the wall. If he’d given me a look like that, I think I would have curled up and died on the spot. He told that Chubb that Frodo had saved us all. I wouldn’t have cared to doubt it.”

“Saved us from what, I’d like to know…” but just then they noticed the Master, and the talk died off. They looked at Saradoc, wondering what he’d heard. He decided he might as well have his say.

“You will find, I think, that Frodo, Samwise, Meriadoc and Peregrin deserve every honor that these Men have come to bestow on them. Do not forget that we have a King now, and that our four lads are his dear friends.”

He moved away smiling to himself, and imagined the tongues wagging behind him.

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CHAPTER 10

Bergil was excited. Targon had given permission for him to go home with the pheriannath. Amid a flurry of instructions to mind his manners, be respectful, behave himself usefully, eat well, dress warmly, and not be a nuisance, Targon and the others had bid him a fond farewell. He felt a little funny, now riding away and leaving them. The four men of the Third Company he had known all his short life; they were like uncles to him. And he had come to know the Rohirrim who rode with them very well over the last few months, also. But he was with his friends Pippin and Merry, and their families for now, and Legolas and Gimli were coming along, too. The Elf and the Dwarf had joined them when they had stopped at Imladris, and he had grown quite fond of them, as well.

He had to admit to himself to being just a little nervous that he would be spending the night away from them all, but Master Brandybuck seemed to be very nice; he was sure that any uncle of Pippin would take good care of him.

He felt a bit odd now, trotting alongside the--hobbits--he had to remember to call them that here in their own land. They were all grown folk, so much older and wiser than he--he cast a reverent eye on Frodo, the Ringbearer--yet they were all smaller. It just felt very strange.

The only thing he wished was that his father could have come. But the Prince was trying hard to get things settled in Ithilien; and as captain of his Guard, Beregond could not be spared. But Prince Faramir remembered how fond of Bergil Pippin had been, and had asked his father if it would be all right if he went. Prince Faramir would do anything for Pippin who had saved his life. The King had also thought it would be a fine idea.

Still, if Targon had not been leading the group that went, Beregond might very well have said ‘no’--but Targon was his best friend, and he knew he would take very good care of his son.

When Bergil finally got home, he would have much to tell his father.

____________________________________________________

Esmeralda was in a flurry of preparation. Saradoc had sent a messenger to her as soon as he realized that he would be bringing guests back to the Hall. He had explained in his note that one was an Elf--of all things--and so very tall, another was a Dwarf--no problem there. Those two would actually be spending the night at Crickhollow. The third guest would be staying with them. A Man-child, only eleven years old, yet taller than their tallest adult hobbits. Poor little lad, so far away from home and family. Men were so strange!

Her niece Pearl was helping out. They were trying to figure out the seating arrangements in the main dining hall. “Aunt Esme, for the Elf, I think the best thing would be to just put down a cushion, and let him sit upon the floor. Remember how Gandalf usually sat on the floor when he would visit?”

“Yes, dear, I think you are probably right about that. And we can use a small step stool for the child to sit on; the Dwarf will be no problem, he’ll be not much taller than Merry and Pippin are now.”

“What about sleeping arrangements for the child?”

“We’ll arrange a comfortable pallet for him in one of the guest rooms. I don’t think he’d even fit into Merry’s new bed.”

With that decided, the two went to the kitchens to check on the food preparation.

_______________________________________________________

“Legolas!”

“Yes, Gimli?”

“I am no expert on horses, but I’ve bounced along on the back end of this one for months now, and even I can tell he’s not happy!”

Legolas laughed and leaned forward to whisper in Arod’s ear. The fiery steed settled down.

“That’s better,” said Gimli. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him to mind his manners; the ponies cannot help their shorter legs.”

Frodo was riding near enough to overhear the exchange, and gave a chuckle.

“I beg your pardon, Frodo,” said Legolas, “for Arod’s impatience.”

“Not at all, Legolas. I was just remembering how patient all you larger folk were of us on our trek through the wilderness. You must have felt very frustrated sometimes.”

“I do not recall being so frustrated over your pace--though this may not have been true for Aragorn or Boromir--however, I do recall being driven to distraction, having never before encountered a race that could *talk* so much. Especially Pippin.”

“Oi! I like that!” said the Knight of Gondor.

Merry grinned. “I seem to recall Strider and Boromir having a discussion once about people who could walk half as far on twice as much food!”

This was greeted with laughter, and then Gimli said “We must have frustrated the four of you no end by our refusal to have more than three meals a day.”

Pippin shook his head ruefully. “I thought all of you were trying to starve us to death! I could not understand how beings so very large could get by on so little food.”

There was general laughter at this. Soon it seemed, every other sentence was beginning with the words “Do you remember?”

Bergil listened with wide eyes as his heroes discussed their journey. Did the great warrior Boromir, son of the Steward, really get stuck in a bramble bush and have to be gotten out by Sir Peregrin? Did the *King* really put a lizard in Mithrandir’s hat?

Saradoc also listened attentively, amused by their anecdotes, yet all too aware of the hesitations and sudden silences over the things they did *not* say. Not for the early time of their reunion was the discussion of battle, horror and death.

Yet there was an easy understanding here, and he marveled. It had been all too obvious from the time his son and his companions returned, that their experiences had given four already close friends an even tighter bond, but he saw now that these two beings of other races were clearly included in that bond. And as he continued to listen, he came to realize that Gandalf and the King were also included ; he heard too, the note of wistfulness and sorrow at the mention of the dead warrior Boromir. This, then, was what Merry had meant when he spoke of the Fellowship, with a look of longing in his eyes. There was a sense of kinship in this relationship that had nothing to do with blood. He did not really understand it, but he thought he could almost envy it.

They were finally approaching the lane that led down to Crickhollow, and Merry rode up alongside his father.

“Da, we’re all going to stop off here, to unload packs and gear. Then we’ll all ride on down to the Hall for dinner. But Pip and I were wondering if you could lock our boxes up in the strongroom for now?”

“Certainly, son. That’s only reasonable. I’ll ride on ahead, and let your mother know that you are on the way.”

______________________________________________________

CHAPTER 11

The main dining hall was quite crowded as most of the hobbits at Brandy Hall wished to get an eyeful first hand at the strange guests.

Bergil was seated at the high table between Pippin and Pippin’s sister Pearl. He felt very out of place. For almost a year now, at feasts and such, he had been serving as page, and not taking part in the meals until afterwards. But hobbits had different customs. The servers brought the food to the tables, but did not serve the guests. Instead, they loaded the food on the tables and the diners passed the dishes around and served themselves.

And there was so *much* food! Platters of early spring vegetables--tiny carrots, radishes and green onions; two kinds of soup; a huge ham; roasted chickens; lamb chops; many other kinds of vegetables; and *mushrooms*! Mushrooms fried and mushrooms stuffed and mushrooms baked and right now he had on his plate a piece of mushroom and cheese pie. It was delicious, but he had eaten so much already! And Mistress Pearl kept encouraging him to eat. She looked so worried if he did not.

Pippin glanced up at Bergil from his conversation with Gimli on the other side, and noticed the hint of panic on the lad’s face.

“Pearl,” he chuckled, “leave the lad be. He needs to save room for dessert.”

Dessert? Bergil’s eyes widened even more. How did these pheriannath--hobbits--eat so much?

On the other side of Esmeralda, Legolas sat upon his cushion, and enjoyed the meal. He had an idea of what to expect, knowing hobbits, and so was taking very tiny portions of everything--most of which was quite delicious. He noticed that Frodo on his left was doing the same thing, and felt a pang of concern that the Ringbearer’s appetite had yet to return to what was normal for one of his kind. He saw Sam, on Frodo’s other side was also taking note of the plate; Sam’s eye caught his, and he nodded.

Legolas turned his attention back on his hostess. He had noticed that she was wearing the necklace that Merry had brought from Minas Tirith. She was asking him about it.

“Yes, Mistress Brandybuck, the story Merry told you was quite true. I did sketch the design for the jeweler, but your son knew very well what he wanted. The small flowers in the chain are niphredil, a flower of Lothlorien. And Gimli chose the emerald. Merry wanted a very good example of your namesake stone.”

“And is it also true the jeweler did not want to take any pay for it?”

Legolas laughed. The clear music of his Elvish laughter rang out and drew the attention of everyone. It seemed to lift the hearts of all present.

“Yes, that is true as well. I do think he got a fair price for it in the long run, but it fairly drove Gimli to distraction trying to arrive at that price.”

But his hostess was looking troubled, rather than amused. “Merry said that no one seemed to want to take their money in the City?”

“What worries you, Mistress Brandybuck?”

“It’s such a weight of gratitude, on four small hobbits.”

“Ah.” He did see. She did not really understand all that had happened, though she had been told. But she saw the results, and knew what it meant. “The weight of the gratitude is yet less than they deserve.” He wanted to add a bit more, but the subject was a sore one for Frodo, and he did not wish to risk distressing him lest he overhear the conversation. “We will perhaps, speak of this at greater length another time?”

She nodded, and turned the conversation to their journey to the Shire.

Merry was talking to Gimli, who sat on his right. “I thought that you and Legolas would be for Mirkwood and the Lonely Mountain; I’m surprised that you were travelling again.” For he had been told that the two met up with the party from the south in Rivendell, and had joined it for a chance to come see their friends in the Shire.

“Aye, lad, we did go to both places, but we did not stay long. While King Thranduil was surprisingly open minded about my friendship with his son--once he got over the shock--his people were not. And I am afraid that my father was far less than open-minded. We went to Rivendell first, and had thought to make our way back to the south, when word came to us of this party heading your way. Well, we could hardly pass up an opportunity to see you all in your own homeland, so we begged leave to join the official delegation.”

“I am glad that you did. I have missed you heartily, and Legolas as well. It’s a shame that the King and Gandalf could not have come also.”

“And then we could all tramp off together into the wilderness? No, lad, it would not be the same.” Gimli sighed. It was good to remember the friendship and the good times, but the Quest had been far too serious to want to turn back time.

And Saradoc, seated between his wife and son felt a weight upon his heart as he listened to the conversations. How long would his son be content to stay in the Shire? Would he feel restless now that he had been in the wide world?

Legolas turned now to Frodo, who had asked him about Bilbo.

“He is still well, though feeling finally all of his years. He does not write as much, and spends a great deal of time sleeping in the Hall of Fire. He still has a keen interest in his meals, however. And he sent his most loving regards to you.”

“I am glad he is still well. I feared--I feared that” he stopped, not sure how to put his fear into words.

“You feared that the destruction of the Ring would destroy him as well?”

Frodo nodded, feeling ashamed. He sometimes felt grateful to the Ring, evil as it was, because it had kept Bilbo alive for him. It was one of his many shameful thoughts about the Ring. And Bilbo had seemed so much older and more frail, when he had seen him last, on the way home.

Legolas was not sure what kind of answer to give Frodo. The truth was that Bilbo was nearing the end of a life that had lasted far longer than natural for one of his kind. Yet to Legolas, also, it seemed far too short a time, as did all mortal lives. He contented himself with giving the hobbit a comforting squeeze of the arm, and a sympathetic nod.

The meal was drawing to a close. The servers were bringing in the desserts. Bergil thought he might cry. There were tarts, and cake and two kinds of pie. Would he have to eat some of everything? He had to be polite. And Mistress Pearl was helping his plate to some pie right now. He glanced at Pippin, but he was talking past Gimli to Merry right now. Giving a sigh, he picked up his fork.

________________________________________________

After the meal had ended, they had remained at the Hall for a while to mingle with the assembled Brandybucks. Now Merry, Pippin and their guests were walking back to Crickhollow under a clear and starry sky. The night was cool, but the fresh air was pleasant after the stuffiness of the crowded room, and the friends were feeling in a mellow and light-hearted mood.

“Legolas,” laughed Merry, “tonight will go down in the history of Brandy Hall.”

“Do you think so?”

“Oh, yes indeed! For the first time ever, a male caught the eye of my cousin Celandine and she was too shy to speak to him! I have never in my life heard anything quite so funny as that little squeak she gave when you were introduced.”

Pippin and Frodo laughed too. Celandine was only twenty-four, but she was already becoming notorious for her flirtations.

“It wasn’t just Celandine,” put in Pippin. “I thought Melilot’s betrothed was going to have apoplexy, the way she was gazing at our lovely Elf.”

Legolas was thankful for the darkness, which hid his blushes. What was it with mortal women? It had been pretty bad in Minas Tirith; at least these hobbit lasses were too shy to do more than just gaze at him longingly.

Sam sniggered. “I think every lass there between twenty-one and eighty was smitten.”

“Including Pearl!” said Frodo slyly.

“Oh, now there’s an idea!” said Pippin. “How would you like to be my brother-in-law, Legolas?”

The Elf shook his head. He was just thankful that Gimli had so far stayed out of this conversation.

“You know,” came Gimli’s voice--

Oh, no--he wouldn’t--not the main reason they had left so quickly from the Lonely Mountain--

“--even Dwarven women are not immune to our Elven laddie--”

He would.

________________________________________________

Esmeralda had made a pallet for Bergil in one of the guest rooms only a few doors away from the Master’s suite, and seen him settled in there.

She and Saradoc had talked for a while, but now she thought she would go check on their young guest one last time before retiring for the night.

She cracked open the door, and peered in. The lad was moving restlessly and then he moaned softly.

“Bergil? Are you all right?”

He sat up slowly, clutching his middle. “Mistress Brandybuck? I don’t feel so well. I think I ate too much.”

__________________________________________________

CHAPTER 12

The party at Crickhollow all slept late the following morning. Sam was first to arise, and noticing that it was nearing time for elevenses, he busied himself with preparing a meal.

As he had thought, the smell of food cooking soon lured Pippin and Merry out of their beds, as well as Gimli. By the time it was finished they had been joined by Legolas and Frodo.

After they had eaten, they went outdoors into the fine spring morning. The hobbits and Gimli lit their pipes; Legolas took himself up a nearby tree for a view of the surrounding countryside. This was a green and pleasant land, gentle and tame compared to his home in the east. But he could see the Old Forest from his vantage point. There was a forest perhaps as old as Fangorn. It might be worth exploring before they left the area. He felt a bit of movement from the tree, and realized he was being joined.

“Hello, Pippin.”

“How did you know it was me?” said the hobbit. “You didn’t even look.”

Legolas laughed. “And who else here climbs trees?”

“I’ll have you know Frodo taught me to climb when I was only a faunt.” He sounded indignant.

“Perhaps so,” said Legolas “but that was long ago for your kind. I doubt me that he climbs so much anymore.”

Pippin leaned back against a convenient limb. Though he was not nearly so graceful in the trees as an Elf, he was very much at home. He sighed.

“No, I fear you’re right. I don’t think Frodo has climbed a tree in a long time.”

“And how is Frodo?” Legolas asked gently, not really sure that he wanted to know the answer, and very much afraid that he already did.

“It depends on who you ask. I thought he was doing all right; so did Sam--up until a couple of weeks ago anyway. I don’t believe Merry ever agreed with that. But Merry doesn’t want to discourage us. And I think he hopes he’s wrong. I’m beginning to see that it’s going to take a lot longer for all of us, but especially for Frodo.” Pippin looked away from the Elf’s concerned gaze.

“What happened a couple of weeks ago?”

“Anniversaries. For all of us.” His voice was low and subdued.

“Ah.” He made no other comment. He had known Aragorn’s opinion about what the hobbits might suffer from their experiences, and he was sorry to see that the healer had been correct.

They sat silently for a few moments; then Pippin began to pick at some dead twigs stuck in the limb where he was perched. He looked down, where Sam and Merry stood at the foot of the tree, and gave Legolas a mischievous grin. Then he began dropping the twigs on their heads.

“Hey!” called Sam. Merry, with more experience of his cousin’s tricks, moved away from the tree.

“You’ll have to come down sometime, cousin.”

________________________________________________

Esmeralda knocked upon the door of Bergil’s room.

“Come in.”

“Are you feeling better this morning, Bergil?”

“Yes, Mistress Brandybuck. I feel much better now, thank you.”

She had sat with him late into the night, first patting and rubbing his back until she had brought forth a few great belches; then she had given him some ginger and chamomile tea, and stayed by him until he had fallen asleep.

“I hope you realize now that you do not have to eat like a hobbit just to be polite?”

“I am glad. Is it really true that you have six meals a day?”

“Yes, lad, it is. And sometimes on special days we have seven. But you are only used to three, so do not feel that you must eat every meal with us. Or if you choose to join us, then just have a cup of tea and something small to nibble on. That will keep us company and be polite enough, without making yourself sick.”

“Thank you. I am sorry I was so much trouble.”

She laughed. “Do not worry about that. You could not possibly be the trouble that my son and his younger cousin were everyday growing up. Sometimes I thought they had been misnamed, and should have been called Trouble and Mischief.”

Bergil laughed, too, then. Esmeralda thought it a lovely sound. He truly was very young, but he was such a solemn child.

________________________________________________

Paladin and Berilac had made an early start, and now had stopped in Woodhall to take luncheon. The village was too small to boast of a real inn, but there was a small eating house there. They hoped to make good time to Bucklebury, perhaps arriving there as early as mid-afternoon.

Berilac was enjoying this little journey. He’d not much occasion to deal with the Thain in the past, but he was finding him to be a good companion. Paladin had a good sense of humor--he didn’t know why that surprised him, knowing Pippin as he did--and was very shrewd. He could tell that the Thain was worried about his son. It must have been very hard for him to allow him to go live in Buckland when the lad had been gone for so long. But Berilac was one of the few who knew the real reason for that.

______________________________________________________

After luncheon Pippin walked to Brandy Hall; he wanted to spend time with Bergil. The rest of them were deep in a discussion of the political situation in Gondor, something which Pippin found less than enthralling. Besides, having invited the child, he was not about to just abandon him.

As soon as he arrived, he sought for Esmeralda, and found her overseeing the turning out of one of the linen storerooms. He came up behind her and enfolded her in a hug. “Hullo, Aunt Esme. Where’s Bergil?”

She turned to him sternly. “I thought you’d abandoned us.”

“No! No.” He was taken aback. “We just got a very late start today! I came over as soon as I could. Now, how’s Bergil?” For he was concerned that she had not answered yet.

“Bergil had a difficult night. He had quite a stomachache.”

“He’s sick!” Pippin’s panic stricken face went pale. “Why didn’t you send for me?”

Esmeralda relented. She had to remember that Pippin was not *used* to caring for someone younger. He was used to being the youngest. “No, Pippin. He had a stomachache from overeating. The poor lad thought he had to eat everything put in front of him in order to be polite. If he had really been sick, I should indeed have sent for you.”

The color came back to her nephew’s face, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “So, if he’s all right then, where is he?” He asked with Tookish persistence.

“I believe that right now he’s in the great hall with some of the other children. I’ll walk back with you.”

Aunt and nephew made their way through the maze of passages.

“Pippin, how old is Bergil in hobbit terms? For you told me that Men and hobbits age differently.”

“I’m not truly certain myself, Aunt Esme, but I would guess he might be about the same as a hobbit lad of , oh, sixteen or seventeen. But it’s hard to be sure.”

“I think you are probably right. Yet he seems entirely too serious for one so young.” She stopped for a second, and looked at Pippin. “In fact, the last child of that age that I remember being so solemn was your cousin Frodo.”

Pippin knew what she meant. “Yes, Aunt Esme, he knows death. He lost his mother a few years ago; his father is a soldier, and he has grown up among soldiers. And he has seen War, and known his father’s comrades who died, and has feared often for his father’s life, and even for his own. And no cousin Merry--or indeed, many other children at all--to cheer him up.”

“Well, then,” said Esmeralda briskly, “you will need to make it your job to bring some laughter to his young life!”

They had come into the great hall, and Pippin saw his young charge seated on the floor by the large round window, and surrounded by nearly two dozen young hobbits in their teens and tweens. He was talking animatedly, and holding them enthralled by some tale.

“It was as large as--oh,” he gestured out the window “maybe half as tall as that tree out there.”

Pippin’s smile at finding the lad at the center of attention suddenly faded as the young voice continued. He had also caught the attention of a few adults scattered through the room, among them Pearl, who was talking to cousin Doderic.

“It had a great spiked club. Adrahil said that it swung down in one blow, knocking Artamir unconscious, and wounding Adrahil, my--my father was already unconcsious, smitten by the creature's first blow--”

No. No, not that.

Pippin froze as the blood drained from his face.

Suddenly he was no longer at Brandy Hall, but on the blistering plain of Morannon, a year and a day gone. There the sight of Frodo’s mithril shirt, Sam’s sword and an Elven cloak being boastfully displayed by the Mouth of Sauron had pushed him beyond the brink of despair into a blind rage.

Over and over, Boromir had drilled it into him and Merry: “Topple your enemy first. Go for feet, heels, ankles, knees--use any means you may to bring him down.”

And so he had, a furious small whirlwind, screaming his rage. Heedless of his own life, wanting only to avenge Frodo and Sam, he went somehow unscathed as he cut a swathe through the enemy, leaving them on the ground for larger folk to finish off. His barrow-blade was sharp, and bit deeply into Morgoth’s brood, and he was drenched in black blood.

Then he saw the troll.

Just like the troll that had speared Frodo in Moria.

And it was turning its attention to his comrades of the White Tower.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard a child’s clear voice telling him what to do.

“It was raising its club again, and Adrahil said he thought he had breathed his last. But then he heard a fierce yell, and he saw Peregrin come running up from behind it. He slashed at its heels, and then ran beneath its great legs to face it.

He stabbed up as the troll toppled down. The last thing Adrahil saw before he swooned of his injuries, was that troll lying dead, with the foot of a perian, a hobbit, sticking out from beneath it.

So you see, Sir Peregrin saved them all from the troll.  And that is why Artamir and Adrahil wished to come here to the Shire.  And it is why I will always be forever grateful, that he saved my father."

The room was silent.

The children were all staring wide-eyed at Bergil. The adults were staring at Pippin. Esmerelda placed her hand upon her nephew’s arm.

Pippin felt time begin to move. He could still hear the pounding of his own heart, loud in his ears. He found he could breathe, which meant he was not underneath a dead troll. He looked down at his aunt.

Just then Bergil spotted him, and gave him a welcoming grin, pleased to see that his friend and hero had arrived. “Sir Pippin!”

Pippin forced a smile to his face. Bergil had no idea of what he had done, other than to boast of his friend. How could he be angry at him?

He walked over to the little group. “Hullo, Bergil.” He hoped that his voice did not sound as strained to them as it did to his own ears. The children and tweens all stared up at him, as though they had never seen their Took cousin before.

One of the tweens got nerve enough to speak. “Cousin Pippin, was that true?”

Pippin wet his lips. “As far as it goes, Sarimac. But Bergil, you must tell them the rest. You must tell them who really won that battle for us.”

Bergil looked at him astonished, as if everyone should know this already. “Why, Pippin, it was Frodo the Ringbearer, of course! For if he had not accomplished the Quest at that very time, the Enemy would have won!”

Pippin’s heart filled with pride for his friend, and he gave him a hug. “Come away with me, Bergil. I’ve not had much time to visit with you yet.”

He turned to lead Bergil away, and saw his sister approaching, tears in her eyes. He looked entreatingly at his aunt. He could not deal with Pearl right now. Esmeralda saw, and intercepted her niece.

“Pearl, not right now.”

“Let’s go for a walk, Bergil; I’ll show you the sights of Buckland. You have not really seen the River Brandywine yet, have you?” Pippin and his young guest left the hall, and behind him he heard the talk begin. He would have to have a word with Bergil about what stories were appropriate to tell young hobbits.

______________________________________________________

CHAPTER 13

Back at Crickhollow, Merry and his guests had been sitting around the kitchen table talking. Having exhausted the topic of how Aragorn’s rule was being received in the south, they had moved on to the subject of Legolas’ and Gimli’s future realms in Ithilien and in Aglarond. Although both Elf and Dwarf were looking forward to this, and had made many plans, it would be a few years yet until they could get started. They had promised to help Aragorn restore Minas Tirith first.

Frodo and Merry were quite interested in all this, listening and asking some rather astute questions. Sam listened closely as well, but had yet to say anything.

Observing his gardener, Frodo was beginning to think Sam had something he wanted to say to Legolas and Gimli, but he was not going to interrupt as long as he and Merry were present.

“Merry,” he said, “I think you may have missed a few of my books in that last cart-load you brought to Bag End. There was one I’d like to show Legolas. Would you come to the study with me to check?”

Merry cocked an eyebrow at his cousin; Frodo was absolutely the worst liar he knew. The last box of books had not even been opened, and still sat in the front hall at Bag End. But he got up and obediently followed him from the kitchen.

“What’s this all about, Frodo?” he asked when they had left the room.

“I think Sam wanted to talk to Legolas and Gimli. But he wouldn’t say anything with us there. It wouldn’t be ‘proper’.” He said the last word wryly. He heard it far too often from Sam to suit him.

“What about? Oh. Oh, yes. Our Sam only has one thing on his mind these days, doesn’t he?” Merry grinned.

“Exactly.”

_______________________________________

“So, Mr. Legolas and Mr. Gimli, you’re going to go back to see the King?”

“Aye, Master Samwise,” Gimli answered. “We will be returning that way.”

Sam blushed. “How soon do you think you might have to leave?”

“I think, Sam,” said Legolas with a smile, “that we are not in such a hurry that we could not stay long enough to see a dear friend through his wedding day.”

“Oh, glory!” Sam exclaimed. “Wait till Rosie hears about this!”

_______________________________________

After tea, they were going once more to dine at Brandy Hall. Frodo and Gimli sat on the front step to wait for Merry and Sam, who were doing the washing up in the kitchen. Legolas had gone to the stable to have a word with Arod.

“Gimli, I am so glad you and Legolas came to see us. I’ve missed you.”

“We’ve missed you lads, as well. It’s strange how quickly one can get used to having hobbits about,” the Dwarf chuckled.

“How is Legolas?” Frodo asked solemnly.

Gimli looked at him shrewdly. “The sea-longing is there. It will never go away until he gives in to it. But he is a very determined Elf, and he has vowed not to sail as long as Aragorn lives.”

“It must be hard for him.”

“Aye, laddie, it is. But he is an Elf, and time has not the same meaning for him.”

Just then the object of their conversation approached and Merry and Sam came out also. It was time to head for Brandy Hall.

__________________________________________

It was late afternoon when Paladin and Berilac approached Bucklebury Ferry. Berilac hailed the hobbit on duty, and soon the two of them were on the Buckland side of the Brandywine.

As they stepped out onto the landing, Paladin caught sight of two figures coming towards them. Both were dressed in the black and silver of Gondor. One, of course was his son, a welcoming smile on his familiar features. The other--surely too tall for a hobbit, too short for a Man. He realized with a start that it was a young Man-child.

Pippin came up and gave his father a rather formal embrace. “Hullo, father. I’d like you to meet my good friend, Bergil son of Beregond, who made my time in Gondor much less dreary.

Bergil, this is my father, Paladin Took.”

Bergil bowed politely. “Thain Paladin, it is good to meet the father of my friend Sir Peregrin--er, Pippin.” The look he cast at Pippin fairly glowed with hero-worship.

Paladin looked his son over. His face was thinner than he had seen it last; there was no childishness left in it, though he still had three more years until his majority. And what was that hanging around his neck? That chain looked like solid gold. Pippin noticed his glance, and blushed; neither of them said anything.

“Shall we walk on up to the Hall, father? I know that Uncle Sara and Aunt Esme will be glad to see you, and so will Pearl.”

______________________________________________

Frodo was pleased that tonight they would be dining privately with the family instead of in the main dining hall. He had felt entirely too much on display the night before at the high table--he’d had more than enough of that kind of thing in Gondor. But at least he was being watched as “that strange Frodo Baggins who went off on an adventure,” and *not* as “Frodo the Nine-fingered, Ringbearer”. As good as it was to see his friends, it was another reminder of something he’d rather not think about.

Legolas, Gimli, Sam and Bergil were visiting with Pearl in the Master’s sitting room. . Saradoc, Paladin, Merry and Pippin had gone from the room. Frodo suspected that they were going to the strongroom. Frodo went to seek out Esmeralda, who was seeing to having the meal sent up.

“Hullo, Aunt Esme. Can I be of any assistance?”

She stopped what she was doing and gave him a light hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Frodo, dearest. No, I don’t think so. The servers will bring it up and set it out, and I already have the table laid.”

Frodo looked at her shrewdly. “Is something wrong, Aunt Esme?”

She shook her head. “You always were a perceptive lad. I’m afraid I’m finding this visit from strangers a bit disturbing. I’m learning more than I really wanted to know about what happened to all of you while you were away.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “That’s a matter of opinion. I wish there had never been a Ring, much less that we had anything to do with it.” He stopped. He had not meant to say as much to her, and was surprised at his own outburst.

“Oh, Frodo!” She reached out and gave him a hug. “Do not blame yourself for any of it.”

For a moment, he allowed himself to relax into her embrace, as he seldom had when he was a child.

__________________________________________

Paladin stared in shock at the chest that Pippin had unlocked for him.

Pippin looked at his father. “One hundred fifty, silver. This chain, and a fine pony. The chain, I’ll keep, the pony as well. But you may take the silver for the Took’s treasury. Next year, and every year after, it will be two hundred fifty.”

“Son, the King sent this to you.”

“I’m not of age yet. So even if he did, it’s still technically yours. Besides, I don’t need that much.”

Paladin looked at Saradoc and Merry. “How have you settled this?”

Saradoc glanced at Merry, and nodded for his son to answer. “Da thinks I should keep it. I’ll settle for having it here in the Brandybuck strongroom, and will use of it what I need; but I consider it family money as well. Da said one reason for such a stipend is to help me fulfill my obligations as Holdwine of the Mark without having to dip into Buckland’s coffers, which makes sense. But I’m of age. It does make a difference.”

This was true. According to Shire law, until Pippin turned thirty-three, everything he had belonged to his parents.

Paladin shook his head. Since the gift had been given so publicly, everyone in the Shire would soon know about it, and hobbit opinion would also consider it Took money, rather than Pippin’s. Once he would have had no qualms about taking it. He had deliberately kept his son short of money, as the lad spent indiscriminately and lavishly, and then was out of pocket. But this new, mature hobbit who had come home from the War would not be like that, would he?

On the other hand, he could not deny that an infusion of cash into the Took coffers would be welcome. They had suffered financially during the Occupation, and still were trying to recover.

“Let me think it over, Peregrin. This is somewhat unexpected, to say the least.”

“That’s all right, Father. I just wanted you to know as soon as possible.”

________________________________________________

Pearl found herself finally beginning to relax. At first, every time she met the Elf’s gaze, she blushed. She couldn’t help it. He was so comely; but he was very polite, and pretended not to notice, and soon she began to see the humor in how silly she was being. Acting like a tweenager--like Celandine, in fact. At least she had not been tongue-tied in his presence.

She was listening with half an ear as Sam and Gimli discussed some incident that had happened on their journey, and wondering when she was going to get a chance to get her father alone and let him know what had been going on with Pippin. He needed to know about what happened a couple of weeks ago, when Merry was so ill, and about that story the boy had told this afternoon. She had seen her brother’s face when the child was talking, and she had never known it to have such a stark expression before. And the implications of the story worried her.

Just then, her father and the rest returned from their visit to the strongroom, and Esmerelda announced that dinner was ready.

___________________________________________________

Bergil had eaten very carefully all day, taking Esmeralda’s advice, and just having a cup of tea and a nibble. Now he felt ready to have a meal, but he was going to be cautious as to the size of the portions on his plate.

Legolas was sitting across from him, and he noticed how he was eating. He would let the Elf be his example.

Esmeralda watched the child, and saw he had learned his lesson about trying to eat like a hobbit. Poor motherless lad, so far from home. She remembered what Pippin had told her about him, and resolved that he would learn to enjoy himself as a child should, before he left the Shire.

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CHAPTER 14

In his guest room at Brandy Hall, Paladin lay awake. Meeting these people from his son’s life was disturbing; the matter of the money was disturbing; and most disturbing of all was what Pearl had told him after dinner.

There was the lad, Bergil. Only eleven years old, and his father had allowed him to journey hundreds of miles away from his home, not even travelling with kin. Dark hair, solemn grey eyes, very serious and polite. Paladin had realized with a start halfway through the evening that the child reminded him of nothing so much as Frodo at that age. He had caught Esmeralda’s eye, and she had nodded. So his sister saw the similarity, too.

And the Elf. Paladin had never before met one, and he had not realized how disconcerting it would be to look into ancient eyes in a youthful face. They were at once both merry and grave, and filled with memory. And Pippin had introduced him as the son of the King of Mirkwood, a somewhat intimidating fact. The Elf had bowed and acknowledged the introduction with formal grace in a mellow and musical voice. Paladin could not help but notice that Pearl, and even Esmeralda, tended to blush whenever they looked at Legolas. He could not decide whether to be amused or annoyed at this, but it was perfectly understandable. There was no denying that Legolas was an exotic and handsome creature.

Then there was the Dwarf. He had met a few Dwarves before, but only briefly, and during the course of business.

But Pippin had brought this one forward and said, “Father, this is Gimli son of Gloín, who saved my life. If he had not found me, I would never have left the battlefield at all, alive or dead.”

“Ah, now, laddie,” the Dwarf patted Pippin on the arm, and then bowed. “Gimli son of Gloín, at your service, Thain Paladin. Your son was our companion in the Fellowship. He would have done as much or more for me had our situations been reversed.”

More than the grave look on his son’s face, or the unshed tears that stood in the Dwarf’s eyes, it was the stricken look on his nephew’s face that convinced Paladin of how dire it really must have been. For Merry stood behind Pippin, and for an instant looked as if he might swoon. He noticed that the Elf moved a step closer to Merry, and put a supporting hand upon his shoulder.

He bowed. “Paladin Took at *your* service, now and always, Gimli son of Gloín. I thank you for the life of my son.” And now *he* was having to blink away tears.

But as he stood there looking at the four of them standing there he suddenly realized that in some inexplicable way, these two strangers were closer to his son and his nephew than he would ever be from now on.

During the meal, the mood lightened as Merry and Pippin regaled their guests with tales of their childhood misdeeds. Paladin watched in amusement as Bergil’s eyes grew wider and rounder, torn between amazement, admiration and disbelief. But when Merry brought up the story of how Frodo, when he was seventeen, had tried to climb up a chimney on a dare, and gotten himself stuck, Bergil could not stand it, and burst out “Oh, now! Not truly!” For he could not imagine the brave, wise, solemn Ringbearer doing any such thing.

Frodo laughed. “Yes, truly, Bergil! I was stuck up there for what seemed like hours--”

“It was only about half an hour, dear,” put in Esmeralda.

“--and when Cousin Seredic and Uncle Dinodas finally managed to haul me out, I think I lost half the skin on my upper arms, and my clothing was in shreds. It is funny now, but it certainly was not funny then.”

This led to more such stories, with even the Elf contributing a story of a prank that he had helped the King to pull when he was just a lad growing up in Rivendell. Paladin found his credulity strained a bit at this, for Legolas would have been an adult for many long ages--why would he get a child into such mischief?

And then the meal had ended, and after a bit more of such conversation, Saradoc went to see the guests out, and Esmeralda went to see Bergil to his bed.

This had been Pearl’s first chance to talk to her father alone, and she took it, telling him first of that dreadful day on the fifteenth of Rethe, and how they had found Merry and Pippin.

“Father, it was dreadful. Pippin was sick himself from lack of sleep; he had horrible nightmares. I heard him crying out when he finally did sleep. But Merry was in such dire shape, I’ve never seen anything like it. Pippin told us that Merry must *never* be alone on that day--it could be the death of him yet. Frodo suffers so, also, though the Elf-Queen has given him something that helps--have you seen that jewel he wears on his neck?”

Paladin nodded. He had never seen Frodo without it since his return.

“And then today, I heard Bergil tell about Pippin’s battle with the troll--” she went on to relay the story as the child had told it. “Do you understand why it frightens me so?”

The implications of the story were not lost on Paladin, and he said so. She seemed relieved that he took it as seriously as she did.

Now he was awake in the dark, thinking about those implications, and wondering what he was going to say to his son, and when he would get the chance to say it. For in the morning, they had to ride up to the Bridge to meet with the rest of the official delegation, and hear the King’s response to the letter they had sent to him.

And he still had to decide what to do about all that money.

______________________________________________________

CHAPTER 15

As soon as Paladin had arrived the previous evening, Saradoc had sent a messenger to the Bridge to let the delegation know that they would be arriving the next morning between elevenses and luncheon.

Targon and Éothain were prepared for the visit. They had laid on a nice meal, since they would be dealing with hobbits, and had spruced the campsite up considerably.

“Do you think that they will be agreeable to your King’s edict, Targon?” Éothain asked.

“I believe so, as most of the proposals came originally from them in the first place. There may be some concern over details, but His Majesty has given me full authority to do whatever they wish. He said to trust the Ringbearer, who will see that all is done justly and fairly. If it were anyone else, I would like it not; but the King says that Frodo son of Drogo is the most honorable person in the Two Kingdoms, and that he would never ask for anything that should not be.”

“Your duty is foremost, yet I would that it be done quickly and well. I have my own instructions from Éomer King. Yet I do believe that they will find his news to be welcome.” Éothain smiled to himself. He thought that the would find his kinsman Éomer’s news to be very welcome indeed.

“We will deal swiftly, I think with our business, my friend. From my knowledge of Sir Peregrin and his kin, the pheriannath are a practical and direct people, and do not make unnecessary complications. And then we can be on with the more pleasant task of making the acquaintance of the Shirelings.”

Éothain grinned. “I think for my part they will be as glad of that as we. The holbyltla seem to enjoy hospitality.” For ever since they had presented their stipends to Meriadoc and Peregrin, some of the more daring local hobbits had been stopping by the encampment with gifts of food and ale. They had seen more cakes, pies, and other assorted good foodstuffs in the last day and a half than they had seen since they left Gondor and Rohan months before.

“For my part,” Targon smiled, “I shall have to be careful, lest my armor no longer fit by the time we leave for home. But I hope that we have time to visit with our small Knights. The Third Company sorely missed the lively chatter of our Peregrin when he went home.”

“As do we miss our Holdwine Meriadoc. He has promised me that if I ever made my way to his home in the Shire, to teach to me the art of smoking leaf.”

“Mayhap I will learn this thing as well,” smiled Targon, “as King Elessar seems to be very fond of it. It might start a fashion in Minas Tirith.”

___________________________________________________

Immediately after first breakfast, Saradoc, Paladin and Bergil rode to Crickhollow to meet the rest of the party travelling to the Bridge. They were mounted and waiting. Merry was on the new gelding, Pybba, and Pippin was on Sable. It was Paladin’s first sight of the gift pony, and he was most impressed.

Pippin looked splendid in his black and silver livery, with his gleaming chain of knighthood upon his breast, and his Elven cloak spreading down behind him, mounted upon the beautiful black pony. Looking at him, for the first time, Paladin felt a real pride in the way his son *looked*. He recalled how the uniform of Gondor had irritated him when Pippin had first come home. He had got more or less used to it, but until now he always thought he’d rather see his son in a plain shirt and weskit. Yet this morning he looked totally appropriate.

They made quite a party as they rode north to the Bridge. As they passed through the village of Newbury, a crowd came out to stare after them, as though they were a parade: cheering, clapping and waving.

When they reached the Road, instead of turning to the Bridge, Saradoc led them on across to the Men’s encampment.

Of course the soldiers had seen them coming, and had all lined up to greet them.

They dismounted, and Danulf and Borondir came forward to lead the mounts away to the picket where the horses were. Legolas led Arod himself, and there was no dispute on this. The Elf’s steed let no other handle him.

Pippin took it upon himself to introduce his father to each of the Men by name. The Thain was impressed by the discipline and courtesy of these Men, so unlike the ruffians that he had seen in the past.

Pippin only knew the Men of Rohan by name, but when he introduced the Men of the White Tower, he had something to say about each of them.

“Father, this is Targon, leader of this company, and the second Man that I met in Minas Tirith, after Beregond.”

“This is Borondir. We very frequently had guard duty together at the palace, and upon the wall. He is also second cousin twice removed to our Bergil.” Borondir smiled to himself. He had known that he was in some distant relationship to Beregond and Bergil, through his father Berehil, but he’d had no idea of the degree. It had taken Pippin only three or four questions to determine it. The perian had been puzzled that Borondir did not know it himself.

Paladin felt relieved. So the child was not traveling without family after all.

“These are Artamir and Adrahil, brothers, who were with me at the Last Battle.” Paladin looked at them sharply, remembering what Pearl had told him. They bowed solemnly to him.

“Thain Paladin, it is a pleasure to us to meet the father of Sir Peregrin, who saved our lives,” said Adrahil.

Pippin looked apprehensively at his father. Paladin ignored his look and spoke to Adrahil. “I look forward to your telling of this tale.” He wanted the first hand account. Beside him, Pippin swallowed audibly.

After the introductions were made, a luncheon had been spread upon a snowy white cloth upon the ground. Saradoc chuckled when he saw the fare that had been laid. “I don’t think that all of this is camp food,” he said.

“No, much of it has been brought to us by your people, who seemed to feel we did not have enough to eat,” replied Targon. “After we have taken our repast, we will discuss the King’s message to you.”

_____________________________________________

After the luncheon ended Targon took Saradoc, Paladin and Frodo to his tent to discuss the King’s message. Éothain excused himself, as this was the business of Gondor and Arnor. But he told the Shire leaders that his king, too, had business with them, and they would discuss it later.

As the rest of them waited, Bergil busied himself with the washing up. He refused Sam’s offer of help, saying “This is *my* duty, Master Samwise. It would not be proper for you to help.” Of course, Sam could not dispute this, as he had used the same argument with Frodo most of his life.

Merry and Pippin overheard the exchange and sniggered. “It’s a shame that Frodo didn’t hear that,” said Merry. “We must be sure to tell him. I wish he could have seen Sam’s face.”

“That’s my Bergil!” grinned Pippin. Sam heard them and groaned. No chance they would not tell Mr. Frodo.

Merry decided to give Éothain his first smoking lesson, with much advice from Sam and Gimli, and some good-natured teasing from the rest of the Rohirrim, whom they soon coaxed into trying it as well. Legolas watched in amusement for a few minutes, and then went for a walk in the nearby woods.

Pippin used the chance to chat with his friends of the Third Company; they sat about and had a good gossip, with news of the comrades who had been left behind in Minas Tirith.

“When it was announced,” said Borondir “that this delegation would be coming to your homeland to see you there was much clamor to be chosen to come. King Elessar chose us himself, and I do not know why we four were so lucky, but I am glad. We have all missed our Ernil i Pheriannath very much.”

Pippin blushed. He knew they were teasing, calling him “Prince of Halflings”, for they all knew how much it embarrassed him, but it was very nice to know that he had been missed.

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CHAPTER 16

Targon had spread the King’s document upon a low table, so that all might see it.

From  His Grace, the Lord Elessar Telcontar, High King of Gondor and Arnor, to Paladin Took, Thain of the Tooks; Saradoc Brandybuck, Master of Buckland; and Frodo Baggins, acting as Deputy Mayor of the Shire, are sent Greetings and Good Will.

We wish first to convey Our thanks for your timely response to Our request for your recommendations . It is Our sincere desire to provide good governance for the Shire, which We may only do with the aid and guidance of you who are its rightful leaders.

As to the recommendations you sent unto Us, We find them wholly acceptable, though it may take some time to implement them all.

Firstly: As to the request for the watch of the Northern Rangers upon the borders of the Shire to be restored, this has already begun. However, due to the War of the Ring, their numbers are now too few to guard your land so effectively as in the past. Although We are increasing their numbers, and are also sending some of the Southern Rangers of Ithilien to swell their ranks, it may be some few years before they are able to keep their watch as before. Therefore, We request that you should increase the numbers of your own watchwardens, the Bounders, for the next few years. We will establish several Ranger waystations along your borders, and will keep vigilance as well as may be. Your Bounders may come to these waystations to find a Ranger in time of need.

Secondly: As to your suggestion that a King’s Messenger be available to increase the communications between the Shire and the rest of the Two Kingdoms, to this We also agree. A King’s Messenger will be at Bree, at the Inn of the Prancing Pony, for the first week of every month. When the new settlement at Sarn Ford is completed, one likewise will be there, in the same manner. If at any other time a Messenger is needed, the Rangers will know where to find one. Remember, also, that Sir Peregrin son of Paladin is also a King’s Messenger, and may serve so at need.

Thirdly: As to the re-establishment of trade between the Shire and the rest of the Two Kingdoms, this will be of mutual benefit to all. We are creating new settlements throughout all the old kingdoms of the North, the first of which will be south of the Baranduin River, at Sarn Ford. We are also renewing the old roads that served the Kingdom of Arnor in ages past.

However, much of the disruption of trade was caused by the dealings of the former Wizard Saruman, whose wickedness caused so much of sorrow in the Shire, as well as in the South. It will be needful to untangle all his deceits ere goods and trade may flow once more. To this end, We request that any records in the Shire of those who had dealings with him be sent to Minas Tirith for perusal.

Fourthly: As to your request that We ban the presence of Men in the Shire without the approval of the Thain, the Master and the Mayor, We are in complete agreement, and hereby make it so for a period of seven years.

At the end of the seven years, the decision will be made whether to extend the Ban, or rescind it, or to make changes in the conditions of it.

We will hold all Men to be under this Ban, including Ourselves.

In addition: We feel that it would be beneficial to your people to have those who would have an understanding of the world beyond the Shire, and who could represent the interests of the Shire. We would request that you choose an embassy of your people to spend half a year in Gondor, at the court of the King, learning the ways of Men and of the world, that they could bring advisement to you in your dealings with the rest of the Two Kingdoms. We suggest that this embassy consist of no fewer than four, but We most assuredly do not require those who have already sacrificed much to be among them; We do not wish the embassy to consist of the Ringbearers Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee, nor Sir Peregrin son of Paladin, nor Sir Meriadoc son of Saradoc, but they may be able to advise as to those who are sent.

If any of these measures are not acceptable to you, know that our envoy Targon son of Cirion has our full authority to negotiate any changes you may deem necessary.

By Our Hand

Elessar Telcontar, High King

As the three hobbits finished reading the document, they looked at one another. Only Frodo did not look surprised.

“But he’s given us everything we asked for!” Paladin shook his head; he had expected to have to fight for some of it, especially the ban on Men.

“And he has given us free rein to ask for anything else we want!” added Saradoc.

Targon looked at Frodo, who was silently worrying at a thumbnail with his teeth, and was refusing to meet his eyes. So the envoy spoke up. “Yes, this is true. My instructions are to accommodate your wishes in any way possible.”

“But why?” Paladin could not help thinking that there had to be more to it. There must be some other motive.

“Because he trusts the Ringbearer,” Targon said.

“*Because*” said Frodo, trying to override Targon “Aragorn is a true King with love for his people and he thinks that we will know more than he what is best for the Shire.”

“That is true,” said Targon, “but it is also true that we owe your people a great debt of gratitude.”

Frodo turned away for a moment and drew a deep breath. Anger would not serve, and now was not the time to argue with that gratitude. And whether *he* thought he deserved it or not, his people did. He thought of Sam, Merry and Pippin, and all they had endured and sacrificed. They, at least, had not failed. “What we need to do now is discuss the requests he has made of us,” he said. “He has asked us to increase the Bounders; to send him Lotho’s records; and to send an embassy of hobbits to Minas Tirith. Am I right, Targon?”

And now began the discussion of details, as to precisely how they would fulfill the King’s wishes. After an hour and a half, they had settled some of those details. Paladin and Frodo were going to try to sift through Lotho’s records. Saradoc was going to see to the Bounders. They would all three work on choosing the embassy, and it would take a little more time.

Also, they were going to need some red ink, and seven witnesses. For a document this important, not just any seven would do.

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CHAPTER 17

The afternoon had worn on, and Targon had made arrangements for a light repast. “Afternoon tea” was not a meal in the South, but the Shirefolk were used to it, and the mealtimes of hobbits was one of the things that King Elessar had told Targon of, when he was briefing him for the journey.

Merry and Pippin were amused. It was not a “proper tea”, but it was clear that the Men had made an effort, and they made sure their fathers knew it. Afterwards, the Rohirrim wished to show off their newfound skill in smoking. Éothain still had to speak on behalf of his king to the Shire leaders, but believed a respite from serious business was in order. He thought that in a short while, he would call them together.

Paladin decided to take the opportunity to draw Adrahil aside, and ask him about Pippin’s encounter with the troll. His story was just as the child Bergil had reported it.

“Let me understand this, Adrahil, for I am no fighter.” Paladin thought for a second unsure how to word his question. “You are saying that Pippin actually *caused* the troll to fall on him?”

“He came from behind and hamstrung the monster, and then moved in so that it would fall with all its weight upon his sword. He would not have been able of himself to deal it a death stroke; he had neither the strength nor the reach.” Adrahil’s eyes filled with tears. “It was a noble deed, and I had no doubt that he was sacrificing his life for mine and my brother’s. My joy and amazement on finding he still lived was great. Your son has more courage and heart than many a Man twice his size, and an endurance that astonishes all who know him.”

Paladin was silent, absorbing this news. It was as he had thought. He was not sure of what he was feeling; he ought to be proud to have a son who was so brave. But the idea that Peregrin had held his own life so lightly disturbed him. And it brought home to him once more just how close he had come to being right about his son being dead. He felt lost, trying to understand something that was far beyond his experience. Yet he thought he had to try.

Just then Saradoc came up. “Paladin, Éothain wishes to speak with us now.”

Paladin, Saradoc and Frodo returned to the tent which was being shared by the two leaders of the delegation. Even Frodo was puzzled. He had expected the reply from Aragorn, but he could not begin to imagine what the King of Rohan might have to say to them.

The Rohirrim were a direct people, and Éothain was no exception. He got right to the point.

“After Isengard was thrown down, King Elessar gave it into the keeping of the Ents and of Treebeard. However, Orthanc is still within the borders of Rohan. Éomer King received a message from Treebeard that a great store of treasure and of goods had been found within the tower. Since these are of no use or interest to Ents, he wished to know how it was to be disposed. We also found some written records, which showed his evil dealings with the Shire. We took all of it away to Edoras, and our king consulted with King Elessar. It was agreed that the treasure of Saruman be used to pay reparations to the people of the Westfold he had despoiled, and to those widowed and orphaned by his wicked deeds. Yet our king believes that some of that reparation is also due to the Shire; he has set aside one fifth of the treasure and one fifth of the value of the goods, to be paid to your land as a weregild for the grief Saruman caused here in your own country.”

The three hobbits looked at one another in shock. This was not something any of them could have possibly imagined. Paladin finally found his voice. “Exactly how much treasure are we talking about here?”

Éothain’s answer stunned them. “We brought only a portion of it with us, as a token of our intent." he added. "This party would not have been large enough to guard such a great hoard.” He brought forward a small chest similar to the one that had brought Merry’s gift, and handed Paladin a key.

He opened it with trepidation, Frodo and Saradoc looking anxiously over his shoulder. This one held not silver, but the glitter of gold! As one, the three hobbits gasped.

Éothain smiled at them. “Does this please you?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“I should say so!” exclaimed Frodo. Paladin and Saradoc simply nodded, wide-eyed.

______________________________________________

The leader of the Rohirrim had left the three hobbits alone in the tent to think about this news, and to decide what to do about it. This was certainly unexpected, and very welcome. It would go a long way toward undoing much of the damage that Saruman had wrought. Homes and inns could be rebuilt; families that had lost a breadwinner to the ruffians could be supported--it would not make up for loss of life or for the devastation that the Shirefolk had been forced to witness, but it would certainly be a help.

Paladin was the first to speak. “This is more of a responsibility than the three of us can handle alone. We are going to have to call in the heads of the families.”

“I agree,” said Saradoc.

For the most part, business that concerned the entire Shire was handled by the Thain, with help now and then from the Master and the Mayor. But for electing the Mayor, and for matters that were too large or too controversial for the three of them, a consensus of the heads of the major families in the Shire was sought. This was rare, other than the election of the Mayor.

Frodo looked thoughtful. “It would be a good idea to choose among them for our seven witnesses as well. Where and when should we call on them to meet?”

“Normally we would meet in Michel Delving, but there are no inns there now,” said Paladin.

“That’s going to be a problem most places. We can’t ask them to camp out, and for that many people…” Frodo shook his head.

“We can’t host them at Brandy Hall or the Great Smials. There would be talk of the Tooks or Brandybucks trying to influence them.” Saradoc shook his head.

Paladin looked thoughtful. “I cannot ask them to stay at the Great Smials, but Tuckborough still has its inns. Lotho never got near them.”

“Then it’s agreed? We will call a council of families at Tuckborough?” asked Saradoc.

“Yes,” said Frodo, “and I think that our new friends will need to be there as well. Are we three agreed that these Men may have permission to enter the Shire?”

“Indeed,” said Paladin. Saradoc nodded. They went to give the news to Targon and Éothain.

CHAPTER 18

The Thain, the Master and the Mayor emerged from the tent to make their decision known to the envoys of Gondor and of Rohan.

“Targon and Éothain,” said the Thain, “we three have agreed that you and your companions have our permission to enter the Shire. We wish you to accompany us to Tuckborough, where we will call a gathering of the heads of the families. We will put before them King Elessar’s edict, as well as the matter of the reparations from Saruman that Rohan has proposed.

We shall not leave until the day after tomorrow, for we wish to send messages to the families, and to warn folk of your coming. We do not wish our people to see you as another invasion of Big Folk, or to be fearful of you.

Therefore, you must all travel with us in order to avoid any misunderstandings.”

Targon and Éothain nodded solemnly. “It shall be as you say, Thain Paladin.”

Saradoc chose ten local hobbits, among them the Banks brothers, to ride through the Shire announcing the arrival of the King’s Men, and to bear the message that the heads of the families would meet in conclave at Tuckborough in ten days time.

Targon had thought to stay Bergil this time, fearing the lad would wear out his welcome, but Pippin had pleaded the boy’s case so sweetly, with much widening of his green eyes, and even Master Brandybuck saying that his wife would sorely miss the lad, that the captain of the Gondorians relented.

And so one last time the little cavalcade of hobbits and their guests made its way south.

When they approached Crickhollow, Paladin asked Saradoc and Bergil to ride on ahead.

“I’ll join you at Brandy Hall later. I want to take a little time to visit my son.”

Saradoc eyed his brother-in-law keenly. A heart-to-heart talk with his son was what Paladin meant. To the Brandybuck’s eyes, it was long overdue. He hoped they would both keep their tempers in check. He rather thought they would. Paladin had a determined set to his jaw; he meant to understand his son, no matter what, and he’d not let his anger get in the way of that. And Peregrin, while he would never be patient, had learned at least to hold his impatience in check.

By unspoken agreement, everyone else went inside, leaving Paladin and Pippin alone on the front step. Frodo gave his cousin a brief hug as he passed him; Merry, a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder; and Sam, a pat on the back. Gimli muttered “take care, laddie” as he went by, and Legolas contented himself with a sympathetic smile. Paladin felt a bit rueful to realize that all his son’s friends thought they needed to reassure Pippin before he had a conversation with his father.

Father and son took out their pipes and sat down upon the step. They smoked silently for a few minutes, each gathering his thoughts.

Pippin spoke first. “What do you want to know, Father?”

Paladin gave his son a wry sidewise glance, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He would not dare to give his inquisitive son an opening like that.

Pippin saw his expression, and chuckled softly. “Poor choice of words, I guess. Gandalf asked me that one time, and I told him ‘The names of all the stars, and of all living things, and the whole history of Middle-earth and Over-heaven and of the Sundering Seas.’*

“Gandalf,” Paladin said flatly. His meaning was clear by his tone.

“None of it was Gandalf’s fault. If you want to blame someone, blame Sauron for making the Ring in the first place.” Pippin blew a couple of smoke rings, and thought of weeks trekking through Eriador, and Gandalf’s smoking providing fascinating entertainment.

Paladin shook his head. They were both reluctant, and were allowing themselves to be side-tracked. “Pearl told me about the day she came over here.”

“The fifteenth. Exactly one year to the day after the Battle of Pellenor, after Merry and Lady Éowyn slew the Witch-King of Angmar, the day I nearly lost Merry forever.”

“That’s why you are living here. Merry was very ill?”

“Merry would probably have died if he had been alone. I cannot take that chance.”

Paladin nodded. “And what about you?”

“I have my nightmares; my dark memories. None of them will kill me, but they can make me weary after days of them. Rethe is a bad month for all of us.” Pippin ducked his head and looked away. His father thought he was probably trying not to weep.

“Tell me about the troll.”

“I told you about that the first night I was home.” There was a hint of anger in the reply.

“Peregrin, you led us to believe that you killed it, and it fell on you by accident. I find that’s not so.”

“Are you asking if I was *trying* to kill myself? The answer to that is ’No’. Are you asking if at that moment in time I cared whether or not I lived, the answer is also ’No’.” Pippin leaned back on his elbows for a second, and then forward to rest his head upon his knees. “I will try to explain it for you, Father, but it’s complicated. Boromir--” there was a catch in his voice at the name of his lost friend, “--Boromir had taught Merry and I as well as he could; but he knew we would always be at a disadvantage against larger foes, and though he taught us various ways to overcome some of that disadvantage, he knew it would be hard for us to prevail. At Parth Galen, he did not hesitate one second to put himself between us and the enemy, nor to keep fighting as long as he could. He sacrificed himself for us, without even thinking twice about his own life. He simply did it.

For a long time, I could not understand *how* he could do that; I know he loved us, but still--” Pippin shook his head. “At the time, Merry and I were beginning to feel pretty useless, just a nuisance to the rest of the Company, and it was hard to understand how we could be worth the life of such a noble Man.”

Paladin looked at Pippin and shook his head. His son had no idea how hard that was for him to hear.

“When I swore my service to Gondor, I did it for Boromir. I hoped that if he had known about it, he could have been a little proud of me for serving his City. Then, after everything else had happened, I marched out with my comrades of the Third Company to fight the Enemy. I got to know them pretty well by the time we came to where the battle would be.

At first, while we were still in the White City, they treated me like a young lad playing at soldier, but as we went, they began to see I was no child, and that I truly meant to do my part. We talked about our homes and families, and what we would do if the Dark should be defeated. I told them to put their trust in Frodo. I was sure that somehow he could do his job, and everything would come out right.

Then, as we waited for battle, Sauron’s messenger, the Mouth of Sauron, came out. He said that they had captured the ‘spies‘, and he had some of Frodo’s and Sam’s things to prove it: the mithril coat, Sam’s sword, an Elven cloak. I thought then that all was lost.” Pippin gazed sadly up at the night sky. “I truly did.” He fell silent for a moment.

“When the battle started, I was grieving and angry. I don’t think I’ve ever been that angry in my entire life, and I hope never to be so again. I just did my best to take out as many enemies as I could, in as short a time as possible, before the world came to an end. For that was what I thought was happening.

And then I saw the troll, and I saw my friends Beregond and Artamir and Adrahil in danger, and I remembered Boromir, and I thought of Frodo in Moria, and the troll that tried to kill him. And a way came to my mind that I could use to take it out--so I did. It wasn’t that I did not know it was dangerous, it was that it did not matter as long as I could save my comrades. I have to say though, Father, I am very glad I did not die.” Pippin quirked a sad little smile in his father’s direction, and Paladin put an arm around his son’s broad shoulders, though he had to reach up to do so.

“I am very glad you did not die, also, my son.”

“Well, Father, if this answers the questions that you had for me, I hope you do not mind if I go in and get some sleep. I promised young Bergil to take him fishing tomorrow. Did you know he’s never been?”

“No. That seems strange.”

“Not so much. He lives in a stone city with no place to fish, and for years it has been much too dangerous to allow anyone to just go down to the River Anduin for fishing.”

Paladin thought for a moment and then, almost shyly, asked “Would you mind terribly if I came along? It’s been a long time since I had a chance to do any fishing myself.”

“I think I’d like that very much, Father. Get some rest yourself, and I will see you first thing in the morning.”

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  * From The Two Towers Book 3, Chapter 11

CHAPTER 19

The next morning, when Sam came into the kitchen to start first breakfast, he found Pippin there ahead of him, nearly finished with his own meal.

“Well, you’re up early, Mr. Pippin,” he said.

“Sam, when are you going to stop calling me ‘mister’?” He asked without much hope. All three of the cousins had this conversation with Sam, more than once. Every so often they would try again. Merry thought they might eventually wear him down. Frodo said there was no more stubborn hobbit in the Two Kingdoms when it came to being ‘proper’, and that it would never happen.

“Now, Mr. Pippin, you know it wouldn’t be proper,” answered Sam, unaware of Pippin mouthing the words along with him and rolling his eyes. “So is there a reason you are up so early?”

“I’m going fishing with young Bergil this morning. The poor lad’s never been.”

“Well, that’s right nice of you. The child needs to have a little fun--he is far too serious for his age.”

“That’s what my aunt thinks. My father’s going with us.” Pippin said this last a bit shyly.

“That’s really good. I take it that your talk with him last night went all right then?” Sam had been concerned. The Thain’s temper was legendary.

“Yes, he really seemed to listen. But I think that he is trying too hard to understand something that he never will be able to. I don’t really want him to understand some of it, Sam.”

“Don’t worry about it overmuch, Mr. Pippin. He’ll understand at least enough to maybe give you some peace.”

“I’ll settle for a nice morning’s fishing. I just hope they are biting, and that Bergil catches a few. Nothing more frustrating to a new angler than not catching anything.”

“Well, I hope they’re biting, too. Would you like me to make you some sandwiches to take with you?”

“No, that’s all right. I’ll pick up a picnic lunch from one of the kitchens at the Hall.”

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When Pippin arrived at Brandy Hall, he found Paladin and Bergil on one of the benches in the front garden waiting for him. Paladin had already picked up a hamper of food from the main kitchen. He was listening in fascination to Bergil, who was chatting away, telling him some very interesting facts about life in Minas Tirith, and about life in Ithilien, now that Prince Faramir was there. Pippin watched them, smiling, for a few moments before they were aware he had arrived. Then they saw him.

“Good morning, Father. Hullo Bergil. Are you ready to go, then?”

Pippin knew just the quiet spot on the riverbank, where he and Merry often went to catch a mess of fish for their supper.

Bergil was a quick learner, and caught three good sized fish. The child’s laughter and excitement each time he got a bite, and especially when he landed a fish, did Pippin’s heart good. He had heard little enough laughter from the lad in the city.

They fished until after luncheon, having second breakfast, elevenses, and lunch from the capacious basket.

When they had a nice string of fish, Pippin showed Bergil how to clean his catch.

Paladin was surprised. When he had fished with Pippin as a lad, they had not cleaned their catch, but had taken it home for the kitchen to deal with. “How did you learn to do this?” he asked his son.

“Oh, well, Merry and I would sometimes fish on our journey to eke out the travel fare, which could get tiresome after a while. We’d give the fish we caught to Sam, since he did most of the camp cooking, and never much thought about it. But one day, Frodo got annoyed with us, and told us that Sam had enough work to do without us making more for him. Anyway, Strider--Aragorn--settled the argument by teaching us how to clean our catch.”

Paladin shook his head in amazement, and wondered if he would ever meet this King, who was also a healer, and did not think he was too good to clean fish.

Before they left the riverside, Pippin taught Bergil to skip stones. The lad was soon managing three skips. Pippin was still hoping to get five again. He and Merry had each managed this exactly once, and were in a bit of a competition to see which of them could do it again first. Paladin had not skipped stones since he was a lad, but he gave it a try, and was surprised to get three right away.

They walked back to Brandy Hall to deliver the catch to the main kitchen. When they arrived, they were greeted by the clamor of young hobbits, teens and tweens, who wanted to spirit Bergil away for more stories.

“Remember what I told you, Bergil,” admonished Pippin.

“No battles, no blood and no killing,” said the boy glumly. “The stories won’t be very interesting.”

“Tell them about oliphaunts--you know, the mûmakil.”

“But you said ‘no battles’.”

“Oh, yes,” Pippin thought for a moment, then brightened. “Tell them about the feasts!”

“The feasts?” Bergil looked doubtful.

“Yes. The feast at Cormallen, the Coronation feast, the Wedding feast--tell them all about them.”

Bergil shook his head. “It sounds boring.”

“Trust me, Bergil, they will be fascinated.” Pippin grinned, and his father chuckled. Descriptions of food could hold hobbits for hours, almost as well as actually eating.

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The two Tooks went into the Hall, to the Master’s family suite, and in Esmeralda’s and Saradoc’s sitting room they saw a scene of domestic tranquility.

Merry and his guests had arrived in their absence. Saradoc and Gimli sat at a small table in a corner, absorbed in a game of draughts. Merry and Sam were showing something to Merimac and Berilac in one of the books of herb lore. Esmeralda sat upon the settee, Frodo’s head in her lap, his face relaxed into slumber, as she gently smoothed his dark curls. Legolas sat upon the floor next to them, softly singing in Elvish.

Paladin and Pippin silently took in the scene for a few moments, then Paladin walked over to watch the draughts game. Perhaps he would offer to play the winner.

Pippin went over and sat down next to Legolas, leaning into his side, and joined his own warm furry voice to the cool clear Elven one. Strangely, they blended perfectly, and without thinking about it, began to sing a bit more loudly. When the last notes faded away, they realized everyone was looking at them, including Frodo, who had opened his blue eyes and was watching them. There was a peace and joy in them that Pippin had not seen in a very long time. He wondered how long that would last.

Unabashed, Pippin looked up at the Elf. “That was nice, Legolas. I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s it mean?”

“It is a song about the Eagles,” the Elf replied. “Frodo, can you translate?”

Frodo turned his head to look at the ceiling, and thought for a second:“In a dream I was lifted up. Carried--no--borne from the darkness above the rivers of fire, on wings, hmm, on wings aloft?” he looked at Legolas, who nodded “on wings aloft as the wind. What’s happened to the world? Is everything--sorrowful--no--sad going to come untrue?”*

Legolas nodded again. “Very good, Frodo.”

Pippin looked up at his Elven friend. “You made that song for Frodo and Sam, didn’t you? I thought it sounded like flying. You sang it when we were waiting for them to wake up. I couldn’t sing along at the time, what with my ribs strapped up and all, but I loved to listen to it.”

“It was one of the songs, yes,” said the Elf. Everyone in the room was listening to the conversation. Most had tears in their eyes.

Frodo turned his face to his cousin and Legolas. “Sing some more,” he smiled.

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Dinner was once more in the main dining hall. The inhabitants of Brandy Hall were beginning to get used to the presence of the unusual guests, but they were no less fascinated. This time, at his own request, Bergil sat at the table that was usually reserved for the tweens and older teens--he’d made a few friends among them, notably Celandine and Sarimac--and he felt less self-conscious there than at the high table. He looked up at Pippin, who tipped him a wink, and then went back to his discussion with the two young hobbits.

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It was in the wee hours of the morning. Outside one of the side entrances to Brandy Hall, were three figures: two hobbit sized and one tall.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” whispered Merry, as he turned a key in the door.

“Come now, it’s for Bergil’s sake,” answered Pippin. “Besides, it’ll be fun. We haven’t done anything like this in a long time--not only is it overdue, but no one will suspect us, now that we are respectable.”

“We’re too *old* for this, Pip,” but it did not stop Merry from opening the door and peering in.

“If *I* am not too old, Master Meriadoc,” whispered Legolas “then I know that you are not.”

Pippin gave a soft chuckle. “He knows that. He’s just protesting as a matter of form. That way, if we get caught, he can say ‘I told you so’.”

“You know me too well, cousin.”

“I ought to.”

They found Bergil sound asleep on his pallet in the guest room. Pippin shook him by the shoulder. “Psst, Bergil, wake up.”

The boy shook himself awake and opened his eyes. “Pippin? Sir Merry? Master Legolas? What are you doing here?” he whispered.

“We have decided to make you an honorary cousin. Legolas is here as a witness.”

Bergil sat up, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. “An honorary cousin? What do I have to do?”

“Well,” said Pippin with a grin, “it *starts* with a midnight snack.”

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The Master and Mistress were wakened early by an urgent rapping upon their door.

“Mistress Brandybuck! You need to come.” It was one of the kitchen hobbits.

“Go back to sleep, Sara, I will see what the crisis is” said Esmeralda as she slipped on a dressing gown. She followed the kitchen hobbit down one of the back passages to the main kitchen.

She found one of the other kitchen hobbits sweeping a large amount of flour on the floor. “It was propped upon the top of the door, so that it would fall when the door was opened Mistress. Four of the pies we had prepared for breakfast this morning are missing.”

“Have you checked to see if the sugar and salt have been switched?” asked the Mistress, shaking her head.

“Oh, mercy! No, we hadn’t thought of that yet. But Mistress, you must go see the dining hall!”

Shaking her head, and chuckling in spite of herself, she opened the door to the dining hall, and stopped in amazement.

The room was festooned from ceiling to floor in an intricately woven web of yarn. It would take hours to untangle this mess. But who? She did not think that Brandy Hall currently housed such imaginative mischief makers--she had seen nothing like this since Merry and Pippin were much younger.

Surely not! They were not even living in the Hall--they were off at Crickhollow--and were much too old and mature now for such things, weren’t they? Still shaking her head in amazement, she began directing the clean-up.

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*translation in italics of “The Eagles” from the Return of the King soundtrack found at http://www.elvish.org/gwaith/movie_soundtrack_rotk.htm

CHAPTER 20

Esmeralda was glad she had packed for the trip to Tuckborough the day before. This little mess was going to really put her behind.

She turned to the kitchen hobbit who had followed her out. “Serve first breakfast in the smaller dining hall this morning. Do not even try to untangle this mess--get two or three hobbits with scissors in here, and just cut it loose. After being stretched and tangled like this, the yarn won’t be worth using anyway.”

She went back to her room to get dressed for the day. Saradoc was awake, and she told him of what the little emergency had been. He guffawed.

“Sounds exactly like something our son and his favorite cousin would have got up to years ago. I’d suspect them even now, if they weren’t at Crickhollow.” He was still chortling. He had always had a hard time keeping a straight face when he had to discipline Merry and Pippin after one of their pranks. “Oh, well,” he wiped his eyes, “it’s given me a laugh to start a busy day with. You are still determined to come to Tuckborough, Esme?”

“Yes, dear. I am.” It would be tiring, but they would be pony back, and taking it in stages, as there would be quite a crowd going: the Master and Mistress; Merimac--who would represent the Brandybucks in the conclave, since both the Master and his son could be considered to have a conflict of interest; Thain Paladin; Pearl ; Merry, Pippin, Frodo, Sam; their guests--Elf, Dwarf and child and three pack ponies with Tip from the stables to care for them. Since the Master, the Mistress, the son of the Hall, and the Master’s brother would all be gone, Berilac had been put in charge until they returned. She chuckled. Their nephew had *not* been pleased with that--he very much wanted to go also.

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Denny Banks rode into Tuckborough on a very weary pony. His own weariness had been held in check by his curiosity. He had never been further west in the Shire than Frogmorton before, so there had been a lot to see. Still, he was very tired; he had not much rest since leaving Bridgefields. He saw a gaffer trundling a barrow up the road, and asked for directions to the Great Smials.

The old fellow looked at him like he had lost his mind, but replied kindly enough. “Just you keep going as ye are; about two miles or so past the last house t’other side o’ town, you can’t miss a great place like that, lad.”

Denny smiled his thanks and urged his pony on.

He arrived at the Great Smials just as directed, and to the hobbit who answered the door, said “I’ve messages from the Thain to Mistress Eglantine Took and Mr. Reginard Took. I’ve ridden hard from Buckland; it’s very important.”

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Just north of the Brandywine Bridge, the Men from Gondor and from Rohan were busy breaking down their encampment, as they awaited their escort of hobbits to arrive.

Anwynd and Leodwald were seeing to the pack horses; Borondir and Adrahil were filling in the firepit, and Artamir and Danulf were striking the tents.

“Make sure to leave as little trace of our stay as possible, men,” said Targon.

Éothain shook his head. “You are spending more effort in leaving than in arriving,” he chuckled.

“King Elessar told me that we are not to mar the Shire or its environs in any way, and to leave it as we found it.” Targon had thought the order strange at the time, but what he had seen so far of the pheriannath in their own place showed him how wise it was. “I do not mean to wait until we cross over the border to begin.”

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Eglantine and Reginard had received Denny in the Thain’s study, and after hearing from him verbal assurances that all was well with Paladin and other family members, Eglantine had dismissed him to get some food and rest before he continued on his way with other messages.

She sat in the armchair across from the desk, and Reggie sat at the desk as they opened the letters from Paladin.

My darling Eglantine,

By the time you receive this message, Pippin, Pearl and I will be well on our way home.

We will be bringing with us a large number of guests, and so, my dear, I am giving you fair warning. Esmeralda, Saradoc, and Merry, along with Merimac, Frodo and Samwise Gamgee are coming.

Eglantine’s eyebrows climbed; if the Master’s whole family was coming, who was in charge in Buckland? And why would Merimac be coming?

But we are also to have guests who are not hobbits. There will be an Elf, Legolas of Mirkwood, who is a prince in his country, and a Dwarf, Gimli son of Gloín. There are also eight Men and a Man-child, who were sent here on a mission from our new King. The Men will not sleep at the Smials, but will establish a camp in the assembly field. It is possible that the child, named Bergil, who is a dear friend of Pippin may be allowed to stay with us at the Smials. This has yet to be decided.

She gave a soft exclamation. She recognized those names from Pippin’s tale of his journey. It had never dawned upon her that she would ever have a chance to meet any of those people.

Furthermore, at Frodo’s urging, I will be extending an invitation to two more: Miss Rose Cotton, Samwise’s betrothed, and Miss Marigold Gamgee, his sister. It is by no means certain that they will accept the invitation. However, Frodo seems to feel it important, and he will be urging them to come. I trust Frodo in this matter, as I trust you to make them welcome.

Eglantine smiled. In other words, keep the Tookish snobbery of the various aunts and female cousins on a very tight leash, and greet the lasses warmly.

I do not know how long these guests will stay, but it would not surprise me if they remain nearly to the end of Astron.

Eglantine blinked in surprise, and began to mentally calculate the stores.

As if I have not already given you enough work, there will also be a conclave of the family heads in Tuckborough, beginning on Highday the seventh of Astron. I do not know how long this will last, but it is bound to mean at least one party.

She shook her head. She was going to have to dig deeply into the household budget. She read on.

Do not worry overmuch about the cost. I will explain further when we arrive.

Now Eglantine was surprised--*her* husband saying not to worry about cost? That was definitely not like him.

I am sorry, my love, to place such a burden upon your fair shoulders, but I know you are more than capable.

I have missed you very much, and heartily look forward to homecoming.

Ever yours,

Paladin

Eglantine put down her letter, and glanced over at Reggie. He had a rather stunned expression on his face. He lay the letter down upon the desk, and put his head in his hands.

“Did he tell you what this is all about, Reggie?”

“It seems that there are some amazing proposals from the Kings in the South; Paladin, Saradoc and Frodo feel it is important enough to warrant a gathering of the family heads before they answer them. Also, because of Pippin’s and Merry’s personal relationships with the Kings, the Thain and the Master want someone else to speak for the Tooks and the Brandybucks in the conclave, in order to avoid talk about favoritism. He wants me to speak for the Tooks, and Saradoc is bringing his brother to speak for the Brandybucks. As acting Mayor, Frodo will ask old Ponto to speak for the Bagginses.”

Eglantine nodded. As Bilbo’s heir, Frodo was technically head of the Baggins family, but Ponto would have been otherwise. This explained a lot. She wondered what the Kings could have had to say that caused so much commotion.

“Well, Reggie, it looks as though both of us have a lot on our plates. We had better get busy right now. I suggest that the first thing you do is send word to the Inns in Tuckborough that they may be expecting a lot of guests in the near future.”

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CHAPTER 21

Under the clean blue of an early spring sky, the procession prepared to move over the Brandywine Bridge.

Side by side at the front rode Sir Meriadoc and Sir Peregrin. Just behind them were the standard bearers, Anwynd for Rohan and Borondir for Gondor. Next came the Master and the Thain, with Esmeralda and Pearl riding between them, and they were followed by Frodo, Sam, and Legolas with Gimli.

Éothain and Targon and the rest of their Men followed, with Leodwald leading the pack horses. Lastly came Bergil and Tip, leading the pack ponies.

The road leading from the Bridge was lined on either side with hobbits, most of them smiling, waving and cheering, but a few faces showed sullen hostility. Not everyone was ready to welcome Men into the Shire with open arms.

Frodo took note of it. He was sure that the further into the Shire they went, the more they would see of it. These hobbits from the Bridgefields had already spent several days observing the Gondorians and Rohirrim. But he was afraid that it would take more than shiny presents and pretty uniforms to overcome nearly a year of abuse by Saruman’s gang of bullies. It was one reason he was pleased that Aragorn had requested hobbits come to Gondor. It would be well for hobbits to learn that Men could also be good, not only bad.

Targon, too, had noted the occasional hostile face. He could see some of the reasons for it around him: the tree stumps, the charred places where buildings had been burned down, the ugly Man-sized structures that had yet to be pulled down. He knew also that the hobbits had suffered privation and abuse and even loss of life at the hands of evil Men. Not for the first time he blessed King Elessar for the careful instructions they had been given.

He recalled the day he learned he had been chosen to captain the small band from the Third Company to the North. The Steward had come to the breakfast mess, and had called out their four names. They stood, wondering what duty was to be required of them.

“You have heard,” said Prince Faramir, “of a delegation which is to be sent north, to the Shire, the land of the pheriannath. You are chosen for that embassy. Targon son of Cirion, you will captain this mission, and act as envoy. Your journey will begin in ten days. Starting this afternoon, you four have three days of leave before you begin your preparations to go. Targon, you will report to the palace at one hour past noon, for a private audience with our Lord King.” Although the Steward spoke firmly and formally, he gave them a warm smile. “Congratulations,” he said, before leaving the room.

Amid the cries of jubilation and envy, Targon felt a touch of trepidation, that he would be trusted with such a command, as well as the prospect of a personal audience with the King. He had met, and even spoken with the King before, but never to have a conversation with him privately.

_______________________________________________

When Targon had arrived, he was ushered into a small chamber that the King used as an office. King Elessar was seated behind a table strewn with papers. He had laid aside his robes, and was comfortably clad in tunic, trews and boots.

“Please. Be seated.” He indicated a chair by the table. Then he picked up a small pouch and a pipe.

Targon watched in fascination. He had seen the halflings and the Dwarf indulge this habit, but never before had he seen the King do so, though he had heard the rumors.

“First of all,” said the King, sending forth a plume of smoke, “do not call them ‘halflings’. As Frodo’s elderly kinsman Bilbo told me once, ‘how would you like it if we called you twice-as-large-as-you-ought-to-be-lings?’ I know that Pippin has told you they call themselves hobbits and if you can remember that it would be well. Pheriannath would not be so ill, as most of them would not know what it means, and being Elvish, it sounds well.” He quirked a smile at the guardsman, who found himself quite forgetting this was a King, and not just a new and friendly acquaintance.

For nearly two hours, Aragorn  simply talked about his hobbit friends, and their homeland. Targon sometimes interrupted to ask a question, forgetting protocol completely, yet the King did not take it at all amiss, but answered amiably. One fact shone out more clearly than any other: he loved these small people dearly, and felt a deep and humble gratitude to them for the valiant part they had played in helping him attain his throne. Then he had dismissed Targon to his leave, with the admonition to enjoy himself before returning to prepare for the journey.

When they did return, Faramir had gone back to Ithilien, and it was the King himself who briefed them on their mission. Just two days before they left, Faramir returned and brought Targon’s dear friend Beregond with him. It was then they had asked about Bergil joining the mission, to act as a general helper, paging and squiring as needed. At first, Targon felt reluctant to take such a responsibility, but remembering how their dear Sir Pippin loved the boy’s company, he agreed.

The day they set forth, the Steward reminded them of the honor that would be due to the Ringbearers, especially on the first day of the New Reckoning. Then they had turned their mounts to Rohan, to meet the delegation from there.

The journey had been long, and mostly uneventful, until they reached Imladris. There he had met the Ringbearer’s kinsman Bilbo Baggins, and the Elf and Dwarf had joined their company. He had seen Legolas and Gimli briefly in the City after the War, but had not before met them; they turned out to be interesting traveling companions.

After a long War, a mission such as this was as good as a holiday, but he did not intend to forget the importance of it to his King. If he let these--hobbits--down, if he did not succeed in winning their approval and trust, he did not think he would be able to face King Elessar again.

____________________________________________

CHAPTER 22

The group broke their journey at Whitfurrow for luncheon. Hampers were unloaded from the pack animals, but many of the local hobbits, alerted by the messengers the day before, brought their own contributions, and what was to be a brief picnic turned into almost a party.

Merry took his father to one side. “Da, since it looks as though we will be here a while, I’m going to slip away to Budgeford, to Brock Hall, for a short time.”

Saradoc smiled. “I suppose Miss Estella has missed you.”

His son blushed. “One can hope,” he smiled. “But I would like to see Fredegar. I’ve not seen him since he came out of the Lockholes, and he was hardly in a fit state then for conversation.” Indeed, to Merry’s eyes, his friend’s thin and bruised form had looked much like Frodo and Sam had after coming out of Mordor. He had found that extremely disturbing.

Saradoc nodded. Fredegar’s exploits against the ruffians were beginning to become the stuff of songs.

“Well, be off with you then, son,” he said. “I do not think we will remain here more than another hour at most. But if we move on before you get back, you can easily catch us. We are going no further than Frogmorton today. And as you are going to Brock Hall, find out if Odovocar would care to come and meet the envoys now.” For Fredegar’s father was the head of the Bolger clan, and would represent them at the assembly in Tuckborough.

________________________________________________

Merry rode up to Brock Hall a few moments later. It was an old-fashioned place, part smial, part house, and more akin to Bag End, being a single family dwelling, though opulent, than to Brandy Hall or the Great Smials.

It had suffered only minor damage during the occupation, for when Fredegar had abandoned it, Lotho had given it to one of Ted Sandyman’s cousins as a reward. The hobbit had moved in, and of course taken it over, but had not damaged his new home, beyond his rather slovenly habits. He had quite roughly been evicted during the Scouring of the Shire, and the Bolger family had then returned to their home.

When Merry knocked upon the door, it was opened by Rosamunda Bolger. He endured her rather hostile glare, since her actual greeting was polite.

“Meriadoc Brandybuck, good day. I am afraid that Estella is out for the day.” Rosamunda had mixed feelings about Merry. On the one hand, she blamed him for much of the misfortune that had befallen her son Fredegar--if her son had not fallen in with Merry and his cousins, she felt, he would never have come afoul of Lotho; on the other hand, she was well aware of the mutual attraction of her daughter and the heir to all of Buckland, something which appealed to her acquisitive soul.

“Quite all right, Mistress Rosamunda. I have business with Odovocar, and I would like to see Freddy.”

Her eyebrows rose. The business probably had to deal with that message the Master had sent yesterday, summoning her husband to Tuckborough for a conclave of family heads. But she was not happy with his wish to see Fredegar--hadn’t her son suffered enough on his friends’ account?

She led Merry to her husband’s study, where he was busy working on some accounts, trying to find out what they still had left after the Occupation.

“Hullo, Odovocar,” said Merry. “My father asked me to let you know that if you would care to do so, you may meet with the envoys today, as they are lunching in Whitfurrow, and will be camping at Frogmorton this evening. If you want, then you may come with me when I leave.”

Odovocar sat back and looked at Merry. “Sit down, lad. Tell me what this is all about. The message was brief, and there were not enough details to suit me.” He was disturbed by the whole thing. After all the trouble it was to get Men *out* of the Shire, what were the Thain and the Master thinking of to invite a bunch of them back in?

So Merry briefly explained the missions of the delegations from Gondor and Rohan. Odovocar’s eyes grew wide as he listened.

________________________________________________

Paladin and Saradoc were talking with Frodo, Sam and Pippin. The picnic had finally broken up, and the ponies were being readied to continue on to Frogmorton, just a short distance away.

Just then, Pippin looked up sharply. “Father, Uncle Saradoc--” he hissed, pointing with his chin. Nearby a group of more than a dozen male hobbits with very unfriendly expressions, had gathered.

Pippin glanced around. Good--his sister and aunt were some distance away, still talking to some of the locals who had brought food. Legolas and Gimli had moved in to stand behind Frodo. He and Sam stepped to either side of his cousin. Pippin then shot a look at the Men, behind them. They had gathered together, standing alert and wary, with Bergil in the middle, but to Pippin’s eyes, they were having to make an effort to keep their hands off their weapons. Targon caught Pippin’s eyes and gave a sharp nod, as if to say they would let the hobbits handle it. He wished Merry hadn’t left.

As the group of angry hobbits moved in their direction, he was aware of Sam tensing and moving even closer to Frodo. His cousin was wearing a sad and distant expression--probably blaming himself again.

Paladin and Saradoc looked at one another. “Let me,” said the Master, “I know most of them, at least by sight.” The Thain nodded.

Saradoc stepped forward. “Well, friends,” he said lightly, “what can I do for you?”

The friendly tone confused a few of them. They looked at one another as though wondering why they were there; the rest, though looked even more belligerent. One of them stepped to the fore. “We want to know what you think you’re doing bringing these *Men*,” he spat to one side contemptuously, “into the Shire? Didn’t we have enough trouble throwing ‘em out last year without replacing ‘em with more? I hear they brought you a pretty penny to let ‘em come in!”

Pippin tensed angrily, and Sam blurted out “Now, see here--” but Frodo placed a restraining hand on each of them and shook his head.

Saradoc looked the angry hobbit coolly in the eye. “Gil Chubb. I do not recall that *you* were put to any trouble at all turning out the ruffians. I seem to recall that during the Troubles--while *my son* and his kin were tossing out the ruffians--you were keeping safe under *my* roof, speaking slander against *my* kinsman.” He spoke clearly and firmly, with only a hint of anger.

Chubb flushed, but had not sense enough to back down, when he thought he had a dozen others to back him up. He did not realize that his supporters were, one by one, slipping away. “You know what I mean. How about that money to let ‘em in?” he said sullenly.

Saradoc’s head came up. “Yes. I do know what you mean.” His voice had a hint of steel in it, and was raised to carry without shouting. Other hobbits were gathering to see what was happening, and more of Chubb’s friends were slipping back into this crowd. “I know *exactly* what you mean. What money has changed hands so far was owed to my son and to his cousin for their services to their Kings. The Thain--” Paladin stepped forward, “the acting Mayor--” Frodo’s chin came up, and he too stepped forth, raising his hand slightly to stay his friends from moving, “and myself have given these King’s Men permission to enter the Shire on the King’s business.” Saradoc glanced at Paladin.

Now the Took spoke up. “Part of that business involves reparations to the *Shire* from Sharkey’s holding in the South. If you spoke to the messengers who came through yesterday, you know we have called an assembly at Tuckborough. Mr. Chubb, I strongly recommend that if you have concerns about the way we have handled this, that you bring them to the head of your family, Chico Chubb, so that he may address them there in the proper time and place.”

Chubb was visibly wilting under the Thain’s angry glare. There were only about three hobbits left, and these were plucking at him to come away.

Frodo chose this moment to also speak; he too seemed to have the knack of making his voice carry. “I know these Men and their Kings. I give you my word that these are people of good will and honor. If my word is not good enough for you, then use your own eyes to observe them and your own ears to listen to them, and judge for yourselves. I, for one, have no doubt of the outcome if you judge fairly.” He sent his piercing blue gaze out over the crowd of hobbits, his sincerity plain to read.

Chubb suddenly realized he was alone except for one kinsman, who was tugging at him to go. “Mayhap I was a bit hasty; mayhap I will talk to old Cousin Chico.” He allowed himself to be led away, wondering how this had happened, and where all his friends had gone.

Once the troublemaker had turned his back and left, Pippin breathed a sigh of relief, one that was echoed by all his companions.

Targon and his Men also heaved a collective deep breath. He had been worried that they would have to go to the defense of the Ringbearer and his companions, and that would have been disastrous. He had seldom seen such an amazing display of innate authority. Among Men, there would have been trouble, no doubt about it, ending at the very least with the troublemakers in prison or at the worst, in violence. It brought home to him like nothing yet had, just what a peaceful people these Shirelings were.

Paladin slapped Saradoc on the back. “You handled that very well, brother.”

Saradoc gave a rueful laugh. “Gil Chubb is a fool, who always thinks the worst, and has not enough sense to keep his mouth shut. The last time he spouted off Merry had to take him down a peg.”

Frodo shook his head ruefully. “I just hope that we do not encounter too many more such fools between here and Tuckborough. I’m not sure my nerves can take it.”

Saradoc and Paladin gave a chuckle. Saradoc gave his younger cousin a brief hug, and said “Don’t worry, Frodo, it’s just politics.”

__________________________________________________

CHAPTER 23

When Merry had finished talking with Odovocar, the head of the Bolger clan had agreed to go back with him and meet the envoys from Gondor and Rohan.

But first Merry wanted to talk with Freddy. His friend’s father directed him up the passage to Fredegar’s room. He rapped upon the door briefly, and called out “It’s Merry Brandybuck.”

A listless voice replied “Come in, Merry.”

Freddy lay on top of his bed, fully dressed. He looked up at Merry, and shook his head. “Looks like things are going well for you,” he sighed.

Merry was very disturbed by his friend’s reaction. This was not like Fredegar at all. He looked him over--he was no longer skin and bones, but Merry doubted that anyone except his little sister Estella would ever call him “Fatty” anymore; the bruises and signs of abuse that Merry had seen when he had been taken out of the Lockholes were gone; but something was missing. The intelligent interest that he would show to his friends was gone, and even the look of fatuous humor that was his face to the world at large was no longer there. Instead there was an air of melancholy and deep grief and the sense that he no longer really cared what happened.

And Merry was quite sure he knew why. It had come far too close to happening to him as well. Pippin had survived the troll, but Fredegar’s dearest friend Folco had not survived the ruffian’s abuse.

“I heard about Folco.”

Freddy’s eyes filled with tears. He turned on his side. Merry noticed that on the small table by the bedside lay the flute that Frodo had given to Folco before he left the Shire. It would be the first thing Freddy saw in the morning and the last thing at night.

“You know, you and I never believed it, but it really is made from an oliphaunt’s tooth, or tusk rather.”

This surprised Fredegar into sitting up. “How would you know that?”

“Why because I saw oliphaunts, of course, and because I saw some other similar things carved from their tusks.” Merry sat down on the foot of Freddy’s bed. “It came awfully close for Pip and I. Close enough for me to know how hard it is for you.”

“No one seems to understand. We were together from the time we were faunts. We were like brothers, not just friends and cousins.”

“I understand.” And Merry did. “It’s like two halves of the same heart.”

Freddy began to sob. Merry took him in his arms. “It’s all right to grieve; let it come out.”

After a few minutes, the sobs slowed, and Freddy took a deep breath. “I had to take care of him; he was so innocent, and so thoughtless of what he said. Do you know what sealed his fate?” Freddy’s mouth twisted in a ghost of a smile. “It was a joke. The carp joke about Lotho. I was always telling him not to tell jokes, that he didn’t have the knack for it. But he never listened.”

Merry nodded. “Curiosity. With Pip it’s curiosity. He never listens either, and it nearly got him--and other folks--killed more than once.”

“Estella has told me a little.”

Merry smiled at the mention of Freddy’s sister. “I tend to leave a lot of unpleasant details out of what I tell her.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I think, though that you deserve to hear the whole story, if you still care to know.”

Fredegar looked surprised. “You know, I think that I do. Care, I mean. I haven’t cared about anything for a long time, except getting revenge for Folco--and even that I couldn’t do.”

“I don’t think even you would have wished on Lotho what came to him.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. But what about Sandyman? No one will talk about him to me.”

Merry shook his head. “I can’t say. For the first few weeks, people were naturally shunning him. But as the time approached for the collaborators to be sentenced, he vanished. He’s gone from the Shire--I know that, because Uncle Paladin has a reward out for news of him, and there has not been the least bit of it. I think he probably took off with the last of the ruffians. Either that or he’s dead. Saruman’s people were always cruel and treacherous.”

“Saruman?”

“Sharkey’s other name. It’s part of the story. Do you still want to hear it? It will take a lot more time than I have here today.”

“Yes, I do want to. What are you proposing?”

“Come with us, with the King’s delegation, to Tuckborough. As many as there are, I don’t think Aunt Tina will mind one more.”

“Travel with Men?” he looked incredulous.

“These Men are as different from the ruffians as night is from day. You need to see that for yourself.”

“I haven’t been anywhere at all since I came home. I don’t know if I can face people.” But his tone was speculative, rather than dismissive. Merry had hope.

“Come with your father and me, to meet the envoys, this afternoon. Then make up your mind. If you decide to come, you can catch us at Frogmorton tomorrow morning before we leave.”

“I think--” and Freddy sounded surprised at himself, “that I shall do that, at least. Tell Father I’ll be down in just a few minutes to join you.”

__________________________________________________

Odovocar was pleased. This was the first interest that his son had shown in anything since he had come home from his ordeal in the Lockholes. Rosamunda was not. She feared that Fredegar would once more become embroiled in something that was none of his business. But one look at the hope on her husband’s face, and on the determination on Meriadoc’s, made her keep her thoughts to herself. She had no intention of antagonizing such a promising future son-in-law.

____________________________________________________

The three pulled up at the sight of the group, noticing a certain amount of commotion. They were just in time to hear Saradoc, Paladin and Frodo finish putting Gil Chubb in his place. Merry grinned and shook his head. “Listen at my Da,” he said proudly. “That Chubb is such a loud-mouthed fool. I wish I’d been here to see the rest of it.” He dismounted, and turned to the Bolgers. “Come on, and I will introduce you to everyone.”

 Merry, Freddy and Odovocar dismounted. The elder Bolger was immediately claimed by the Thain and the Master, who took him to be introduced to Targon and Éothain.

Fredegar found himself greeted with cries of joy by Frodo, Sam and Pippin, who all wanted to embrace him, for none of them had seen him since he had been saved from his imprisonment.

“You are definitely looking much better than the last time I saw you!” exclaimed Pippin.

“It’s very good to see you out and about, Mr. Freddy,” said Sam.

“Fredegar, I have missed you,” Frodo said simply, as he gave his friend a sturdy hug. “I’m so sorry, for everything.”

In his grief at losing Folco, Fredegar had forgotten he had other friends who loved him and cared about him. He was surprised to remember that he loved and missed them as well. It was not the same, and never could be, but still, it felt good to have friends again.

Merry was tugging at him. “Freddy, there are some people I would like you to meet.”

He turned to see standing before him a Dwarf--and an Elf. An Elf. Never had he thought to see, much less meet, one of the Firstborn. He distantly heard the name of the Dwarf--Gimli son of Gloín--why did that sound vaguely familiar? He made the appropriate response without thinking about it.

“Legolas of Mirkwood, this is my friend Fredegar Bolger.” The tall and beautiful being knelt down to Freddy’s level, looking at him with ancient eyes.

“I am pleased to meet you, Fredegar; I have heard good things about you.”

Freddy gaped, searching frantically in his brain for the words of Elvish greeting Frodo had taught him years ago. He knew he was making a tongue-tied fool of himself, and yet seemed helpless to stop it. The Elf was smiling at him in kindly amusement.

The Dwarf laughed. “Laddie, you’ve done it again. You have got to stop striking these mortals dumb.”

Freddy felt Merry’s elbow in his ribs, and Pippin gave him a light blow on the shoulder, and he finally found his tongue. “I am pleased to meet you, Master Legolas,” he croaked.

Frodo laughed lightly. “It’s all right, Fredegar. He is quite real.”

Sam leaned forward to whisper in his ear “Mr. Freddy, don’t worry about it. They *are* kind of overpowering at first.”

_______________________________________________

Freddy and his father rode with the party of travelers as far as Frogmorton, and then turned back for home. Odovocar had been given a great deal to think about; he had to admit that these Men definitely made a better impression than any he had met before. But the thing that made him most hopeful was the dawn of awareness and hope in his son’s face. It was not until Folco was gone that Fredegar’s parents had realized how deep the bond was between the two friends. They had always known that Folco needed Fatty to look after him; they had not realized that he needed Folco as well. Then after their son’s ordeal in the Lockholes, they had simply feared for his physical health. Only since his return home had they understood that something in him was forever gone. Maybe, just maybe, they might see a little spark of it return.

“Father, do you think I should accept Merry’s invitation to ride with them all to Tuckborough?” Freddy had not given Merry a definite answer, but told him that if he were going, he would come back to Frogmorton in the morning before they departed. He was still not sure about it.

“Yes, son, I do. And we will be following soon after, for the conclave.”

“Mother will not be happy.”

“Let me deal with your mother.” Odovocar chose his moments of opposition to Rosamunda with care. He gave her her own way on almost anything--until he thought it important enough. She knew when he did oppose her, he was nigh immovable, and so she seldom argued.

“Very well, I will go with them. At least it will be interesting to speak to an Elf.” He gave a small chuckle.

Odovocar was overjoyed. That was the first thing even resembling a laugh he had heard from his son since the Troubles began.

_____________________________________________

CHAPTER 24

In the Cotton’s cozy kitchen, Rolly Banks finished his tea. The Cottons had been kind enough to put him up last night after he had delivered the word to Bywater and Hobbiton that the King’s Men would be passing through on their way to Tuckborough. He had also delivered a letter from the Deputy Mayor to old Ponto Baggins. Now he had to get on the road again, this time to Michel Delving, where he would share the last of his messages, and meet his brother Denny for the ride home to the Bridgefields.

“Thank ye for your hospitality, Mistress Cotton,” he said to Lily Cotton.

“That’s quite all right, lad,” she answered. “We’ll have this food packed up in only a moment.”

Rolly cast a wistful eye on the two lasses who were helping to put up some travel food for him. A shame two such comely lasses were already betrothed, for Marigold Gamgee, Samwise’s sister, was betrothed to the Cotton’s eldest son Tom, and of course Miss Rosie Cotton was Sam’s own betrothed.

Not that there would have been any kind of chance for anyone else in Rose’s eyes.

During Sam’s long absence, a lot of hobbits had tried. One of Rolly’s Bywater cousins had been among them. He told Rolly how she had turned him down gently at first, but when he had the temerity to suggest Sam might be dead, or never come back, she had turned him out sharply with a flash of temper. “My Sam *will* be back, and soon I’m thinking; but even if he’s not back for ten years or twenty, I *will* wait for him, so don’t go and start thinking otherwise! And even if he never comes back while I’m alive I don’t want no other lad--and most especially you!”

Of course, Rolly and his cousin had disagreed on Sam’s ultimate fate. His cousin, like many in the Hobbiton and Bywater area, was under the firm belief that Lotho Sackville-Baggins had sent his ruffians to Buckland to murder Frodo, his cousins, and Sam. Rolly, who had seen and heard the commotion caused by those huge Black Riders was sure that they were not just ruffians. Whoever they were, they would never have taken orders from a mere hobbit. Still neither of them had any doubt that Sam and his companions were dead, and they agreed that though it was a shame, it was also a waste of time for Miss Rose to be waiting on Sam’s return.

Rolly remembered how amazed and delighted they had all been in Buckland when the word had come that Mr. Merry and his companions were back. And then had come the word that Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin were throwing the ruffians out. He didn’t hear so much about what Mr. Frodo and Sam had done, but after seeing those King’s Men, and how they had bowed to Mr. Frodo and Sam, and told them that anything they wanted the King would do, he had no doubt they had done *something* great and brave. He looked at Miss Rose, and thought of that pretty necklace the King and Queen had sent. He’d kept his mouth shut about that. He knew better than to spoil a lass’s wedding surprise.

The lass in question turned to him and handed him the food package. “Here you are, Rolly. I hope you have a good journey to Michel Delving.”

“Thank you, Miss Rose.” He looked at her warm smile. That Samwise Gamgee was one lucky hobbit. “I’ll be on my way now.”

____________________________________________________

The delegation and the hobbits had breakfasted early and broken camp. As they made preparations to mount up and leave, Merry had kept one eye constantly on the road.

“Merry, don’t fret,” said Frodo. “He might not yet be ready for something like this. Even coming out as he did yesterday was a big step for him. He may not want to face anyone today.”

“It was just so hard to see him that way, though, Frodo. Cooped up in his room with nothing but his grief to keep him company.”

“Well,” put in Pippin with a gesture of his chin, “I don’t think you need to fret anymore.”

Merry and Frodo turned to see the hobbit on a pony coming up the road from the east. It was Fredegar. “Sorry I was almost late, but Mother had so many last minute words for me that I thought I’d never get away. Father--” he added with a touch of surprise, “had to put his foot down, or I’d still be standing in the front hall listening to her.”

His three friends laughed. They knew Rosamunda.

“Don’t bother to dismount, Freddy,” said Merry. “We are getting ready to leave right now. Why don’t you ride between Pippin and me, and we can talk as we ride?”

Fredegar nodded, but he cast a wistful eye back down the line, to where Legolas and Gimli now sat atop Arod.

“Don’t worry,” said Frodo. “You will get plenty of chances to speak to Legolas when we reach Hobbiton. Do you remember any of your Elvish?”

“I think so.”

Frodo laughed, and mounted his own pony. He and Sam turned to take their places behind the Thain and the Master. Pippin and Merry, with Freddy between them rode up to their place at the head of the whole thing.

As they moved out, Freddy asked “So what happened after I left you at the Old Forest?”

___________________________________________________

Frodo had Sam had been riding quietly. Frodo noticed the thoughtful look on Sam’s face. He was fairly sure he knew the cause.

“You really *do* need to come with us to Tuckborough, Sam. We may need you to tell of some things at the assembly.”

“Mr. Frodo, I’ll do as you ask--you know I will, but I’ve been away from Rosie so much lately. And we have wedding plans to work on. Thrimidge is only a month away.”

“Sam, I wasn’t going to say anything yet, but if it will relieve your mind--the Thain is going to invite Rose and Marigold to come with us to the Great Smials. I wanted to wait until we knew whether they would accept before I said anything to you.”

Sam stared at his master with an expression equally compounded of delight and horror. “My Rosie and my Marigold coming to stay with the Tooks and all? I’m not sure if that would be--”

“Samwise Gamgee,” said Frodo sternly, “*do not dare* to say the word ‘proper’ to me. I have heard it more than enough from your lips. If the Thain thinks it will be appropriate for your betrothed and your sister to come visit the Tooks, then it would *not* be ‘proper’ for *you* to gainsay him.”

Sam’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly, rather like a fish out of water. He could not deny Frodo’s logic, but still…

“Now *I* have a charge for you, Sam. For one week, the word ‘proper’ is not to come out of your mouth.” Frodo fixed his friend with a stern eye, which though it contained a twinkle of humor, was nevertheless perfectly serious.

“A week, Mr. Frodo?” Sam squeaked.

“A week. That should not be so hard for a hobbit who faced all the long leagues of Middle-earth for me.”

Somehow Sam was sure his master was not joking. But he was not sure how hard it would be. He might find it harder than the trek up Mount Doom.

Riding alongside, Legolas and Gimli overheard their conversation. Gimli chuckled. Legolas smiled, and wondered if he could tempt the word out of Sam. No, that would not be fair--amusing, but not fair.

______________________________________________________

Back among the pack animals, Leodwald found himself making conversation with Bergil, and with Tip, the stable hobbit. Tip was a Brandybuck, albeit a distant one, he was still proud to carry the name.

“Mr. Leodwald, sir, those are mighty fine ponies and horses you bring out of your country. That Stybba, he’s been the envy of the Shire, ever since Mr. Merry came home.”

“Stybba is indeed a fine pony. He bore Sir Meriadoc through long leagues of Rohan, though not to battle. His son, Pybba is also a fine beast, though he is a gelding.”

“Well, why couldn’t Mr. Merry ride Stybba in battle?”

Bergil interrupted. “Because he rode to battle with the Lady Éowyn, of course.”

“Yes, child, that is true,” responded the Rider of Rohan. “Yet more than that, among the great horses charging into battle, Stybba would have been more a hindrance than a help, however great his heart was. That was one reason our King had told Meriadoc to remain behind.”

“So he didn’t mind the King?” Tip was surprised.

“No, he would not be left out of the fighting, nor would our White Lady. Some of us knew that they were among us, but we had to pretend not to notice them, else all would have been in trouble. Yet it was as well they did disobey, or all would have gone much worse. For it was their destiny to slay the Witch-King.” Leodwald spoke with confidence. Some among the Rohirrim argued whether anyone else could have slain the foul Sorcerer, or whether the Lady or the holbyltla had struck the death blow. But the Lady herself believed that it had taken both of them to do the job, and she ought to know if any did. Leodwald did not think it could have been anything less than fated.

“Well, I always knew that Mr. Merry was right brave, I guess if any hobbit could do such a thing, it would be him.”

“Indeed.” said the Rider.

“Well, of course he is brave!” exclaimed Bergil. “He is Sir Pippin’s cousin!”  And *my* honorary cousin, thought the child smugly.

____________________________________________________

Éothain listened to the conversation behind him with amusement. He thought back to the bleak day, riding out after the skirmish with the Orcs near Fangorn with Éomer. Then they had encountered the strangers in the Mark: Man, Elf and Dwarf. He had thought his kinsman Éomer foolish to make them free of the Mark, and not only that, but to lend them horses. In fact, he had said as much, and been told to hold his tongue for his effort. But he had been wrong. How glad he was that he had been wrong. Those strangers had been the saving of Rohan, bringing Gandalf to rid the king of Wormtongue, and bring him back to himself. Then again at Helm’s Deep. And Éomer had been wrong about the holbyltlan being slain among the Orcs, as well.

Éothain remembered, too, his first sight of Meriadoc and Peregrin, sitting among the ruins at Orthanc, spouting smoke from their mouths, and jesting with their friends who had sought to rescue them. Little did he know then of how valiant the creatures were, in spite of their light-heartedness.

When Éomer King had given him the honor of being his messenger to the Shire, he had been pleased, but now he saw it as more than a mere honor. Being able to observe these people in their own land was an experience that would fill him the rest of his life. He chuckled as he thought back to yesterday, and how easily Meriadoc’s father and kinsmen had dealt with the group of troublemakers. These were a worthy race, and any who thought them merely childlike would be foolish indeed. But on that account, anyway, Éothain judged himself a fool no longer.

____________________________________________________

CHAPTER 25

It was late afternoon when they all rode into Hobbiton, to a crowd of curious and excited hobbits. The plan was for Frodo to put up his family and friends at Bag End. Sam would be going home to the Gaffer for the night. The Men were making an encampment on the Party Field.

As soon as the Men had begun their work, Frodo led his party down to the smial. Legolas and Gimli were fascinated by Bag End.

“So this is the place where it all began,” said Legolas, “for hobbits at least.” To an Elf, it might seem just yesterday, yet for him this was where the great friendships of his life had their beginnings.

Gimli ran his hand over the front door. “And this is the door that Gandalf marked for Thorin and the Dwarves! I heard much from my father about Bilbo’s hospitality.”

Merry and Pippin, coming up behind, heard this comment, and laughed. Suddenly, they began to sing:

 Chip the glasses and crack the plates!
      Blunt the knives and bend the forks!
That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates--
        Smash the bottles and burn the corks!

     Cut the cloth and tread on the fat!
       Pour the milk on the pantry floor!
     Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!
        Splash the wine on every door!

     Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl--*

Frodo laughed and gave a light blow to the back of Pippin’s head. “All right, lads, that’s enough of that right now! Let’s get our guests in and settled.”

Pippin rubbed the back of his head. “Very well, cousin, if we must.”

“Gimli,” said Merry as they entered the front hall, “it has always seemed strange to me that Dwarves would have such a handy song for the occasion. Did they really sing that, or was it one of Bilbo’s inventions?”

“Oh that’s an old Dwarven comic song. Fili and Kili just put Bilbo’s name in at the appropriate places.” Gimli chuckled. Ever since that time, it had been Bilbo’s name in the song, and few now thought about the original Dwarf whose name that had once been in it.

Frodo had to see to allotting rooms to his guests. Bag End was bursting at the seams. He could not remember for the life of him this many people staying over at one time.

He led Legolas to the room that Gandalf had used for so many years. “At least you will have a bed of proper size for a change. But I fear Saruman probably slept in here. I hope that won’t put you off?”

Legolas smiled and shook his head. “Saruman’s presence lays but lightly in this room. He spent little time here, I deem, and it meant little to him; but I can sense that Mithrandir loved it here. His presence here is strong; it even still smells like him.”

Frodo gave a sniff. “You’re right. It’s very faint, pipeweed and fireworks and damp wool, and something else, something very Gandalf. I do smell it.”

Legolas nodded. “Thank you, Frodo.” This room was in truth filled with Mithrandir’s comforting presence; he could rest easily here.

Frodo went to see to his other guests. By putting Pippin in with Merry, in the guest room Merry normally used, and putting Freddy and Gimli in Pippin’s usual room, then it freed enough rooms for Pearl, the Thain, and Saradoc and Esmeralda.

He had offered to put a cot in the kitchen for Tip, but the stable lad had preferred to camp with the Men, where the ponies would be picketed with the horses. Bergil, too, would remain with the Men while they were in Hobbiton.

Merry, Pippin and Freddy were helping Sam and Tip to bring in the various belongings of the guests. Merry put down a pack belonging to his mother.

“Thank you, Mr. Merry,” said Sam.

Merry grinned at Pippin behind Sam’s back. “Sam, when are you going to stop calling me ‘mister’?”

“Now Mr. Merry, you know that would not--” he stopped for a second in confusion. Merry and Pippin sniggered. Sam looked reproachfully at Frodo who had entered just in time to hear the exchange.

“No, Sam, I did not say a word to them, I promise.”

“Of course not,” laughed Pippin. “It was Legolas told us. One week without saying ‘proper’, I believe.”

Sam heaved a sigh. This was going to be a long week. “I think I’ll just be getting myself on down to Bagshot Row, now,” he said crossly.

___________________________________________________

Merry and Pippin looked at the room. Among their earliest memories were visits to Bag End; and wherever Bilbo or Frodo put Pippin, he had almost always ended up in Merry’s bed in this very room--unless they both ended up in Frodo’s.

But as familiar as it was, that bed would no longer hold the both of them. In fact, it would probably not be comfortable for even one.

“Ent draughts,” sighed Pippin resignedly.

“Come on,” said Merry, as he started to pull the mattress off the bed to make a place upon the floor.

___________________________________________________

Freddy was a bit apprehensive. He had never shared a room with a Dwarf before. There were, fortunately, two beds in this room. He did not think they would both have fit in one.

Gimli took off his armor, but did not otherwise undress, and instead lay down fully dressed on top of the bed. Freddy stepped behind the wardrobe door to put on his nightshirt.

He climbed into bed, but did not yet blow out the bedside candle. “Master Gimli?”

“Yes, lad?”

“What is it like to be friends with an Elf? I thought Elves and Dwarves did not get along?”

Gimli chuckled. “No more do they. But in truth, laddie, it is like any other friendship; love and comradeship help to overcome the differences, and any differences we do note are the fuel for teasing, and a source of joy.”

Friendship. Love. Comradeship. Tears stung his eyes, but he blinked them away; he put Folco’s flute on the table by the candle, and blew out the flame, and lay in the dark to wait for sleep or morning, whichever would come first.

____________________________________________________

Frodo lay in his own bed, in his own room, under his own roof in Bag End. It was truly his first night there since his return to the Shire. The smial was full to overflowing with his dearest friends and kin.

Why, then, was he so lonely?

_____________________________________________________

*Song in italics from The Hobbit, Chapter 1, “An Unexpected Party”

_____________________________________________________

CHAPTER 26

Frodo had risen early to prepare a lavish first breakfast for his guests. He had just been in time to greet Legolas, slipping out with the sunrise, as was his habit when sleeping indoors. The Elf would probably not break his own fast until luncheon.

Frodo set the meal out on the sideboard in the dining room, so that guests could help themselves when they arose. Normally, first breakfast was a kitchen meal, but with this many hobbits to feed, the dining room seemed to make more sense.

He decided to go ahead and wake his cousins; they would want to go check on the Men’s encampment as soon as possible. It had been decided to spend three days here in Hobbiton before moving on to Tuckborough, in order to give Eglantine more time to prepare, so they would have set up more than an overnight camp, and Merry and Pippin would want to see that they had everything they needed.

He rapped lightly on the door, and then stuck his head in. It came as a bit of a shock when he saw the bed empty not only of cousins, but of mattress, blankets and pillows as well. Frodo winced. He should have remembered that their childhood beds would no longer fit. Well, it was too late for this visit, but he’d have it set right as quickly as he could.

Pippin sat up from the nest on the floor. “Good morning, Frodo,” he said cheerily, giving Merry an ungentle poke in the shoulder. Merry’s response was to burrow deeper into the blankets.

Frodo smiled. “I just wanted to tell you that first breakfast is ready, and if you don’t get there before Freddy and Gimli, you are likely to find nothing but ‘grass and rainwater.’”

Pippin chuckled at this reminder of Tom Bombadil. Merry stuck his head out of the blanket.

“Do I smell mushroom omelet?” he asked.

__________________________________________________

After first breakfast, Gimli took Fredegar out to find Legolas. The Dwarf was amused to hear the young hobbit muttering an Elvish greeting under his breath. Freddy was determined not to make a fool of himself again.

They found Legolas not far from the encampment, communing with the young mallorn tree. Gimli had grown quite used to seeing his friend “talk to trees” by now, but it still was a source of amusement.

“Do not let us interrupt your conversation, Master Elf,” he said gruffly, but with a twinkle in his eye. “Good morning.”

Legolas smiled and put his ear up next to the sapling’s trunk, as though he were listening. “She says ‘good morning’ to you as well, Master Dwarf, and to please keep your hand away from your ax.” He looked at Freddy, who was not sure if the Elf was joking or not. “Good day, Master Fredegar.”

Freddy blushed, and then enunciating very carefully, said “Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion, Ernil i Lasgalen.” He looked a bit anxious, wondering if he had said it correctly.

“Well met, and well spoken,” said the Elf. “But let us not stand on ceremony; it would please me if you would simply call me Legolas.”

“Thank you--Legolas” said the hobbit shyly. “If you would not mind, it would please me if you would call me Freddy.”

Gimli plunked himself down on the ground, and Legolas and Freddy followed suit.

“I had thought it unusual for hobbits to speak other tongues,” said the Elf. “I had not known any except Bilbo and Frodo to do so, though of course, Merry, Pippin and Sam picked up some phrases on their journey.”

Fredegar shook his head. “You are correct, of course. Frodo taught me a few phrases, and before he left the Shire, he gave me one of Bilbo’s books to study from.” Freddy ducked his head, and picked at a bit of grass. “I never thought I would have anyone to speak it to, though.”

“Well, it would please me to converse in my tongue with you from time to time, Freddy. I have heard much about you from your friends, Merry in particular.”

“They are good friends.” Freddy grinned. “I’m glad, because Merry looks in a fair way to become my brother-in-law before too much more time has passed.”

Gimli and Legolas exchanged a grin, with an eyebrow raised. “Now this is not something we had heard from Master Merry,” chuckled the Dwarf.

So Freddy told them a bit about his little sister Estella, and about his family, and began to relax and not feel quite so self-conscious around the Elf. The three chatted for a while; Freddy explained his relationship to Pippin and Frodo. Gimli chuckled, and Fredegar looked puzzled.

“Most other races,” said Legolas, “do not account their genealogies quite so intricately or so thoroughly as do hobbits. Do you remember when I challenged Merry to account Aragorn’s relationship to Elrond and Arwen?” asked the Elf. Gimli laughed. Legolas turned to Freddy, “He asked how many generations were between Elros and Aragorn, and then said ‘Elrond is his sixty-two times great uncle and Arwen is his first cousin sixty-three times removed, of course’ without even blinking. Lord Elrond laughed, said he’d never thought of it before, but that it sounded perfectly correct.”

Fredegar felt a thrill of awe, as what he already knew was brought home to him: Elrond was the twin brother of Elros, the first King of long-vanished Númenor. He had just never truly understood before what weight of years was behind the word “immortal”.

_____________________________________________________

After second breakfast, Saradoc and Esmerelda decided to walk up to the encampment. Paladin and Pearl were going to the Gaffer’s to tender their invitation to Sam’s sister. They thought if she would agree to go first, it would be easier to prevail on Rose to accept.

“Frodo, are you coming with us?” asked Paladin.

“Yes, I believe I will. I can probably help influence the Gaffer to agree--he will be harder to convince than Marigold--but then, if you are going on to the Cotton’s, I have an errand in Hobbiton at the woodwright’s. Seems that I need longer guest beds.”

Paladin laughed and Pearl giggled. “Yes, my son and my nephew have definitely outgrown their childhood furniture. Old ‘Bullroarer’ had nothing on them!”

Frodo shook his head. “They don’t ever complain of it, but I know it makes them feel a bit out of place sometimes. I don’t regret it at all, though. Aragorn said that the Ent-draughts which caused them to grow also made them better able to heal of sickness and injury as far as he could tell.” Frodo had been shocked to hear the catalog of injuries Pippin had suffered in the Last Battle, yet by the time he had awakened, Pippin was well enough to serve at the feast in Cormallen, though the King had sent his cousin straightaway to bed afterward.

Paladin nodded. It was also something that the healer at Tuckborough had told him--as a child, Pippin had suffered from weak lungs, and often what would have been a mild cold for someone else took a more serious turn for him. Yet Poppy Burrows told him that there was no longer any sign of the old weakness in his son’s lungs; from her questioning, it seemed that credit could be given to those “Ent-draughts”. He no longer doubted the account of walking, talking trees.

“Well,” said Frodo, “shall we head down to Bagshot Row? Pardon me, ‘New Row’.” He still had trouble thinking of it by the new name.

__________________________________________________

They found Sam helping the Gaffer with some small tasks in the newly renovated hole. Sam’s father was more than a bit flustered to find the Thain and his daughter at his door.

“Good morning, Master Hamfast,” said the Took politely. “Might we have a word with you, and with your daughter Marigold?”

Sam waited with crossed arms, as his father called his sister in from the kitchen where she had begun to prepare for elevenses. It was going to be interesting to see whether his Gaffer or the Thain were more stubborn.

He knew the Thain’s reputation, but he had grown up with his father’s stubbornness. And he couldn’t imagine that the Gaffer would think it ‘proper’--no, ‘fitting‘ (he’d better not even be thinking that other word) for his daughter to be visiting the gentry at the Great Smials.

Marigold came into the front room, where everyone was sitting rather stiffly. She could not begin to imagine what the Thain of the Shire would be wanting with her, of all things.

“Miss Marigold,” Paladin began gently, “we are on our way back to Tuckborough, and are stealing away your brother again. It is in my mind that perhaps you and his betrothed, Miss Rose Cotton, might join us for the time of his visit there. You know, we quite need him right now to help with this matter of the King’s Men, but we know that there is also a wedding coming soon, that needs to be planned. Perhaps if you and Miss Rose are there, he can fulfill both his obligations.”

Marigold’s big brown eyes grew wide. She looked at Sam, who smiled encouragingly, and then at the Gaffer, who wore his customary scowl.

“What, me go stay with Tooks and all?”

Pearl gave her a friendly smile. “Well, it would make it much more proper, you see, for Miss Rose to come if you came with her.”

Ah, clever Pearl, thought Frodo. How did she know to use the Gaffer’s favorite word? Sam caught his master’s eye and raised an eyebrow. Frodo suppressed a chuckle.

Marigold looked at the Gaffer hopefully. It really would be wonderful to go and stay with the Tooks along with her dear friend Rose, but she just couldn’t if her father said ‘no’.

Sam spoke up. “You know, Daisy could come over to check on you, Gaffer, and you could take some of your meals with her.”

“You make no never mind about me, son. You’ll do what you have to, whatever happens--but I’m not so sure if it’s the thing for your sister.” He glanced at his youngest daughter, the light fading in her eyes as he spoke. “But Miss Took there has a point. If Marigold don’t go, I don’t see as how your Rosie can. But mind you, lass, don’t you go puttin’ on no airs or thinking as how you’re better than you ought to be.”

Marigold’s face shone. “Oh, thank you!”

Paladin spoke up once more. “I certainly do appreciate this, Master Hamfast. We will take every good care of your lass. We will be leaving in three days, so you have plenty of time to prepare.” He looked at Sam. “Master Samwise, would you care to come with us to the Cotton’s, so that we may tender our invitation to your betrothed?”

Sam grinned. Any reason to see his Rosie was a good one, but this was a better one than most.

____________________________________________________

* There is no exact account of the generations from Elros to Aragorn. However, according to Appendix A, there were 4 generations from Elros to Tar-Elendil, whose daughter Silmariën became the ancestor of Elendil, and there were 41 generations from Elendil to Aragorn (including Aragorn). Between Silmariën’s brother Tar-Meneldur and Ar-Pharazon, there are, if I counted correctly 16 generations, so I am assuming a one-for-one correlation between her line and her brother’s, which gave me a total of 61 generations altogether. If anyone knows a more accurate way to figure the relationship, or has better information on Aragorn’s ancestry, then let me know, and I will be glad to change it. Thank you.

Thanks to Aravorn82 at rec.arts.books.tolkien, I am now able to account this more accurately.  Here is the information as it was posted:

" This can actually be determined exactly, due to a quote from
Unfinished Tales. In the Silmarillion, Earendur is named as the lord
of Andunie whose sister Lindorie was the grandmother of Tar-Palantir
and great grandmother of Ar-Pharazon. In UT, Earendur is said to be
the fifteenth lord. Somewhere else in UT, Numendil, the father of
Amandil, is said to be his grandson. This makes Amandil the 18th and
last lord.

Therefore

Elros to Silmarien = 5 Generations
Valandil to Amandil= 18 Generations
Elendil to Aragorn = 41 Generations

=> Elros to Elessar = 64 Generations

Arwen is Aragorn's 1st Cousin, albeit 63 times removed."

CHAPTER 27

Freddy had been enjoying his conversation with Legolas and Gimli. He found the Dwarf as interesting as the Elf, and was fascinated with their take on the adventures his friends had while they were gone. He had heard Merry and Pippin tell their own tales, but it was quite different to hear someone else’s take on the same events. To hear the matter-of-fact account of the way in which these two, along with Aragorn had run after the army of Orcs that had captured the two hobbits was amazing. Even though he knew that his friends had turned up alive and well, he could still hear the distress and fear that Elf, Dwarf and Man had held when they thought them dead. And it was fun to listen to their easy banter and teasing as they took turns speaking, interrupting one another with disparaging jests and mock taunts.

Just then, from the Men’s encampment floated up the last sound he thought to hear. Someone was playing a flute, and very well.

“In just a moment,” chuckled Gimli, “we will hear it played again, and not so well. Anwynd must be giving Bergil his lesson.”

But Fredegar barely heard him. The music filled him with a raw piercing grief, as though his loss had only just happened. He made a sound as though struck by a blow, and tried to move, to get up, to run, but it was as though he was paralyzed.

Legolas and Gimli looked at him in alarm, seeing his pallor and his wide unfocused eyes, Legolas realizing the emotion, but at a loss to explain it.

Then as Gimli had said, the music changed, became the halting notes of someone only just beginning to learn. This carried his sorrow even deeper, into their childhood, and Folco’s first early lessons. Though a distant part of his mind was somehow aware that he did not want to do this in front of anyone, he was helpless to stop it. He curled up around his knees and began to weep uncontrollably.

The Elf and Dwarf were shocked at the sudden violent display of sorrow. Gimli was growing agitated, as Legolas lay a hesitant hand on the hobbit’s back in an attempt to offer comfort.

“Gimli,” said Legolas “please go and fetch Merry as quickly as you can.”

The Dwarf raced off as though he were chasing Orcs.

Merry and Pippin were talking with Éothain about the rather pressing question of fodder for the horses, who ate quite a bit more than did ponies, when Gimli raced up. It had not been a far run, and he was barely out of breath, but his agitation was clear.

“Gimli?” Merry looked at him in surprise.

“Please excuse us Master Éothain, but I need to speak to Meriadoc.” He tugged on Merry’s sleeve and drew him away. Pippin naturally followed. “We need you to come at once, Merry. Something seems to be wrong with your friend Fredegar.”

Merry’s heart plummeted to his toes. It would have to be dire to upset the unflappable Gimli so. He looked at Pippin and nodded, and they both raced off after the Dwarf.

By the time they got to the mallorn the music had stopped, and Legolas was rubbing the weeping Fredegar on the back, and humming a quiet Elvish lullaby. Merry came up and caught Freddy in an embrace.

It was Pippin who realized what had set their friend off. “It was the flute, wasn’t it, Freddy?”

Fredegar had begun to calm at the arrival of his friends. He sniffed and nodded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to do this.” Now that the first impact of the grief had abated, he was mortified to realize how he had behaved in front of the Elf and Dwarf.

Merry shushed him soothingly. “Can you come with me back to Bag End? I think maybe you need a cup of tea.” He helped him to his feet, and with a nod back to the others slowly led Freddy off.

Pippin remained for a moment, and turned to explain to Legolas and Gimli. “His best friend was killed in the Troubles by Saruman’s bullies.” Pippin’s face also filled with sorrow. The last time he had seen Folco, he had ruffled Pippin’s hair and told him he would see him again soon. “Folco played the flute.” He looked at the two of them. “I’m sorry you had to see him like that; he is going to be terribly embarrassed.”

“There is no shame in grief,” said Legolas.

“Well, I’m going on down to Bag End, too; see if I can help. I know you won’t say anything to anyone else.”

The two watched Pippin trudging down the hill in silence. Legolas put a hand on Gimli’s shoulder. Gimli reached his own hand up and gave it a squeeze. Not for the first time, nor for the last, Legolas thought of the grief he was piling up for himself in his own future. It couldn’t be helped. Love bestowed itself where it would, and it was both his fortune and misfortune that his love had bestowed itself on mortals. Friendship is a perilous thing.

_____________________________________________

Pippin found Merry and Freddy in the kitchen at Bag End. Merry had put the kettle on, and Freddy sat at the table with his head in his hands. No one else had come back to the smial yet.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to look them in the face again,” Freddy was saying. “How long will it be before I don’t do something like this all the time?”

“We can ask Anwynd and Bergil to leave off the flute lessons for a while,” said Pippin reluctantly.

“No.” Freddy was emphatic. “I have to learn how to live in the world as it is. Other people play flutes. I have to remember that.”

Merry set a cup of tea in front of him, with a plate of biscuits and the sugar bowl. “You will learn to remember that. It’s going to take a long time; I don’t think it is something you will ever get over, Freddy dear. Frodo still grieves for his parents. Pippin and I still grieve for Boromir, and for other friends we lost in the War.” Pippin nodded solemnly. Merry went on, “But you can learn to control it after a while. The problem is that you did not have time to grieve when it happened--first you were leading the Rebellion, and then you were in the Lockholes. Give it time.”

Fredegar nodded. “Thank you, Merry. And you too, Pippin. Maybe I will make it through this.”

CHAPTER 28

The Cotton family had finished their luncheon. Lily and Rose were clearing up the dishes, and the males of the family were having a brief smoke before going back out to their various chores when there was a knock on the door.

Rosie looked entreatingly at her mother, for she was sure it must be Sam, but she was up to her elbows in dirty water.

Jolly got up. “I’ll get it, sister. If it’s Sam he knows the way to the kitchen all too well.”

They heard him opening the door, and faint voices, then he called out “Da! Would you come here please?”

Tolman got up, wondering who it might be, for Jolly certainly would not have called him for just Sam. He went to the front hall, where his son stood with Sam, a lass, and a gentlehobbit who looked a bit familiar. It was the Thain! He’d not seen him often, but he’d met him once or twice in the way of Shire business. What could the Thain be wanting?

“Mr. Cotton?” Paladin greeted him politely. “This is my daughter Pearl. We’d like a word with you, your wife, and your daughter Rose, if you please.”

The farmer looked uncertainly at Sam, who gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s all right, Mr. Cotton. Really it is.”

Tolman led his visitors into the front room, and in a few moments they were joined by Lily and Rose, who had taken a brief time to get out of their aprons and straighten their hair.

“It’s very simple,” said the Took, “we are unfortunately having to steal Sam away to the Great Smials for a few days, and we would like to invite Miss Rose to accompany him. It would all be quite correct, as his sister Marigold is also going, and of course my wife, daughters and all my female relatives will also be there.”

Rose looked at Sam, her eyes bright. They’d been apart so much since the beginning of Rethe, here it was Astron already, and the wedding less than a month away. How kind it was of them to invite her to be with her Sam! But the Tooks? Would she know what to wear or how to behave among all those fine folk? But surely Mr. Frodo would be there too, and they were Mr. Pippin’s kin--he was fond of her, she knew. She glanced over at her parents, wondering what they would say; she was of age, but she still would not go against their wishes.

Tolman looked at his wife, and she nodded. He turned to his daughter. “Rosie, my lass, I will leave it up to you, for I know I can trust Samwise not to take you into anything that wouldn’t be proper.”

Sam winced. He couldn’t get away from the word even when he didn’t say it.

Pearl sat forward. “Do say you will come, my dear. We are all so fond of your Sam, and we would like the chance to get to know his bride-to-be.”

She looked at Sam one more time. He was smiling that special smile that was just for her. Still looking him in the eyes, she nodded. “Yes. Yes, I will go.”

He grinned. “Well, that’s my lass!”

__________________________________________________

Eglantine had been marshalling her forces like any general. Meals planned, guest rooms readied, tradesmen notified and a spring cleaning to beat all spring cleanings. Now she was ready for the more difficult task.

She had summoned her two younger daughters, Pimpernel and Pervinca, and two of her husband’s sisters, Primrose and Peridot*, to her sitting room.

“This will be no ordinary gathering of guests, my dears,” she said. “We will have among us folk of other races: the Elf, the Dwarf, several Men, including a child.”

“Mother--” Pimpernel started to interrupt to say that they knew this already, but she was treated to a glare by her mother and aunts, and so she subsided.

“And there are a few,” continued her mother, “who are not under normal circumstances a part of our usual social circle, such as Samwise, his sister and his betrothed. That’s simply among those that are actually staying here at the Smials. As well, there will be others who will be staying in Tuckborough who will be in and out and underfoot all week and maybe longer.”

Primrose and Peridot nodded. They knew what Eglantine was getting at. Pimmie and Vinca looked a bit puzzled. This was the first time their mother had included them in this kind of planning for a large social gathering. Pearl was their mother’s usual lieutenant.

Aunt Peridot smiled, amused. “There are certain people who are less than gracious to anyone they consider too ‘different’ or who do not fit their own notions of ‘gentry’.”

“You know of whom we speak,” added Aunt Primrose.

Pimmie and Vinca looked at one another. “Uncle Reggie’s wife?” For though Reginard was Paladin’s cousin, his children had always awarded him the fond courtesy title. They adored him. His wife, on the other hand, they referred to as seldom as possible.

“Well, Hyacinth is certainly the first name that comes to mind when snobbery is the topic,” said Eglantine frankly. “Also, of course, their daughters Amethyst, Garnet and Opal. As well, we will probably have Rosamunda Bolger here at some point.” Eglantine’s lips tightened. “And then we have the Overhill Banks.” She’d had little contact with her brother’s family since Pippin was twenty. Her obnoxious nephews had gotten Peregrin drunk on a dare, and it had very nearly killed him.

Pimpernel and Pervinca looked alarmed. They had never before heard their mother speak so of others before. Eglantine hated gossip and spiteful tongues. She saw their faces.

“My dears, this is not gossip or backbiting. I do not expect a single word uttered here to *ever* be repeated. But it is necessary to take people like that into account when planning strategy. Now, early this morning I had another letter from your father, as well as one from your Aunt Esmeralda telling a great deal about these Men from the King and their mission. When I add to that some of the information we’ve had from Pippin, I think I have an idea that will pull the teeth from most of the people we have mentioned, and will give everyone something to think about. It may make Cousin Frodo a mite uncomfortable, but I do not think he will mind in a good cause.” She gave her daughters and sisters-in-law a wicked grin that reminded the girls of their brother about to make mischief.

“Now, here is what we are going to do…”

_________________________________________________

Sam and Rosie walked down the lane together. Pearl was talking to Lily about what her daughter could expect at the gathering, and the Thain was sounding out Tolman’s opinions on the upcoming assembly. The Cottons were not one of the major families of the Shire, but they would have representation through their Cotman connections. Still, Tolman Cotton was a notable person in the Hobbiton-Bywater area, and Paladin respected his opinion.

“I’m nervous, Sam. I do want to go, and to be with you, but what will all those Tooks think to have a farmer’s daughter among them? I fear they will think I’m trying to get above myself.”

Sam locked his fingers with hers. It wouldn’t do to let her know he had many of the same fears himself. “They will think they have the prettiest lass in all Four Farthings and Buckland combined among them, and they will all be jealous as can be. But don’t you worry none. You won’t have only me watching out for you. Mr. Frodo will be there, and Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin. We’ll all be looking out for you and Marigold. And I know Mistress Eglantine also. She won’t think any such thing at all. You heard how kind Mistress Pearl was.”

“Oh Sam, I am so glad you came home.”

“So am I, my lass, so am I.” And they exchanged one of those looks that made everything and everyone else in the world disappear.

________________________________________________

* Primrose and Peridot are only partially original characters. According to the Took family tree, Paladin had three older sisters, unnamed, in addition to his younger sister Esmeralda. I just gave two of them names.

CHAPTER 29

In the study of his smial in Overhill, Clodio Banks looked at the letter once more, as if a third, fourth or even tenth reading would change what it said. He pursed his lips in distaste. He’d not been happy with the Tooks for years, blaming his sons when Peregrin was silly enough to drink himself into a stupor. As though lads of that age couldn’t get up to that kind of thing on their own. “Beryl!” he called for his wife. “It looks,” he said as she stepped into the room, “as though we will be seeing my dear sister soon. They have called…”

“…for an assembly in Tuckborough,” said Ponto Baggins to his brother Porto as they sat over an ale in the newly rebuilt Green Dragon. The tavern had only just re-opened. “Young Frodo would prefer that I act as head of the family in the matter as he is still Acting Mayor, but he indicates that he also fears that some people will think he is…”

“…biased in the matter,” Olo Proudfoot muttered to his son at breakfast. “The Thain, the Master and the Acting Mayor are all afraid that there will be an outcry of ’bias’ if they deal directly with this business, because of their sons’ close involvement with that business down South. That’s why they have called for an assembly. I’d better speak to your mother. There will also undoubtedly be quite a lot of …”

“…social activity associated with a matter like this, Odovocar,” Rosamunda emphasized to her husband. “There is bound to be at least one, if not more, parties, with all the leading families of the Shire. It is absolutely essential that Estella and…”

“…I accompany you to this meeting, Longo” said Dianthus Goodbody, Pimpernel‘s mother-in-law. “Milo and Pimmie will be glad enough to see me. And Eglantine can use the support; she’s going to have a lot to put up with, believe you me. A lot of people are…”

“…not going to like this at all,” said Chico Chubb. “I can think of quite a few in our family that will be against whatever the Master may propose, just because he’s the one who said it. And the Thain’s going to have more than a few ready to give him a hard time as well. And the Baggins lad, I am afraid may be well out of his league…”

“…in this matter,” Fosco Hornblower said to his brother Tosco. “Have you heard from Tanto lately? Living in the Great Smials as he does, and being married to the Thain’s youngest daughter, he’s bound to…”

“…know something?” said Griffo Boffin to his friend Milo Burrows. “I know that you saw these people when they were here in Frogmorton. Did you find out anything that might be of any use… ”

“…to ask me, Will Whitfoot.” The mayor’s wife stamped her furry foot. “I don’t care what that letter from young Baggins said. You are still not well enough to be traipsing off to Tuckborough; you don’t start in with all this mayor business again, not until the healer gives you a clean bill of health, and especially if there are…”

“…Men involved.” said Dago Bracegirdle to his friends in the Hardbottle post office. “We had enough grief with all that nonsense Lotho started, and now we’ve got Men in the Shire again. It’s going to take a lot to…”

“…convince me that they are not up to no good,” Polo Bunce remarked to his wife Lavender. “But it is probably just as well that they decided to call the assembly. Those sons of theirs rid the Shire of ruffians, but they have strange friends. We had better start getting ready to travel…”

“…to Tuckborough.” was the phrase repeated in smial after smial across the Shire. To Tuckborough, for the assembly.

____________________________________________________

In Hobbiton, the envoys were being briefed by the Thain and the Master about some of the hobbits they would meet and what their differing attitudes would be. Targon and Éothain exchanged a sigh, as the explanations often ended up in convoluted explanations of who was a fourth cousin thrice removed and why this made someone else’s second cousin once removed always agree. Targon shook his head. Why had he ever thought that hobbits were straightforward? This made his head spin and he was used to *Gondorian* politics.

______________________________________________________

Esmeralda looked at her letter from Eglantine. She was troubled. There was no doubt that the plan would work. And it was absolutely delicious to think of the reactions of people like Rosamunda Bolger or Hyacinth Took. But how would Frodo take it? She found the thought disturbing.

________________________________________________________

Fredegar had at first been embarrassed to face Legolas and Gimli again, but when they had returned to the smial, they had acted as though nothing untoward had happened. They talked to him, and told him amusing stories of things that had happened on their journey. He could scarcely believe some of the antics Merry and Pippin had gotten up to in company with Elves and a future King, not to mention the Wizard. But Tooks and Brandybucks never seemed easily impressed. When they told him of the prank the two had pulled on the sons of Lord Elrond, he actually found himself laughing.

_________________________________________________________

“Rose and Marigold, you must just call me Pearl, please. I think that these clothes will be just splendid for you to take with you; but do not worry about finery for any parties. You are both close in size to my sister Pimpernel, and it is quite the done thing to borrow dresses when you are guesting.”

___________________________________________________________

Paladin, Saradoc and Esmeralda went over Eglantine’s letter once again.

“You are right, Esme. Frodo will probably not like this at all,” said Saradoc. “I will talk to him. We will only go through with this, Paladin, if he does not object.”

CHAPTER 30

It was the last evening in Hobbiton. In the morning, all would leave for Tuckborough.

Sam escorted Esmeralda and Pearl down to the Gaffer’s, where Rose was staying with Marigold, in order to make leaving easier on the morrow. Esmeralda said they wanted to talk to the lasses some more about what they might expect. Although Sam had been surprised, since he could not imagine what more they could wish to say that they would not have said already, he eagerly agreed for the chance to spend more time with Rosie.

Merry and Pippin had made up a party to go down to the newly re-opened Green Dragon in Bywater. This was something they had looked forward to for a long time, and they had made some very special arrangements with the innkeeper, old Toby Harfoot, weeks ago, even before they knew that they would be having guests. Not only had they brought along Freddy, Legolas and Gimli, but they had persuaded Targon and Éothain to allow a couple of the Men to come along; so they had with them as well Danulf for the Rohirrim, and Artamir for the Gondorians.

Aside from the purely natural desire to socialize and consume ale, the cousins had other motives. Their fathers had asked them to help get everyone away from Bag End, so that they could talk privately with Frodo. Merry and Pippin assumed it had to do with politics, and were glad to oblige. This was also a chance to show Men in a positive light. Although no one else had the nerve to confront them after Gil Chubb had done so, there were will plenty of dark looks cast their way from some of those who had suffered under Sharkey. And the cousins were hoping to give Fredegar a good evening out. They would keep close watch over him for any signs of distress.

The place had already begun to fill up when Merry and Pippin led their oddly assorted party inside. There was sudden brief silence, and then the equally sudden buzz of speculation.

They had no trouble finding a large table near the center of the room. Merry, Pippin, Freddy and Gimli took their chairs; Legolas sat down easily and gracefully on the floor next to Gimli. After only a second’s hesitation, Artamir and Danulf also sat on the floor. It put them at just the right height for conversation with their smaller friends. After a moment Toby himself came over with a pitcher of ale and seven tankards, giving Merry and Pippin a wink as he did so. Legolas, Artamir and Danulf took up their drinks with a chuckle, the tankards looking like teacups in their larger hands.

Artamir looked at Pippin wryly. “Getting back at us, are you, for all those nights in Minas Tirith--”

“Sitting in giant chairs with our toes dangling--”said Pippin.

“And drinking out of mugs the size of buckets!” finished Merry.

There was laughter around the table, drawing even more attention in the crowded room. A few of the other hobbits had left when they came in, but not many. Most of the others were watching out of the corners of their eyes. There was suspicion on a few faces and open hostility on one or two, but most held nothing more than frank and avid curiosity.

Just then they were approached by two sturdy young hobbits wearing wide smiles and carrying their ales.

“Tom! Jolly!” Merry and Pippin rose to introduce them to those at the table. “Fellows, these are two of Sam’s future brothers-in-law, Tom and Jolly Cotton. Tom’s also betrothed to Sam’s’ sister Marigold.” Merry made the introductions. Freddy, of course, knew them already. The Cotton brothers were not at all abashed at meeting a Dwarf and two Men, but Legolas did make them blush and stammer a little bit.

About that time Toby came back to their table with a fresh pitcher of ale, and gave Merry and Pippin a questioning look. They grinned and nodded.

The innkeeper raised his voice and called for attention. “Everyone! The next round of drinks is on Mr. Meriadoc Brandybuck and Mr. Peregrin Took!”

This announcement was greeted with cheers. Someone called out “Mr. Pippin! How about a song?” This cry was taken up with enthusiasm by several people, until Tom called out:

“I’ve a better idea! Why don’t we hear from the visitors? I’m sure they know many a fine tale or song we’ve never heard!” There were several shouts of agreement at this idea.

Merry and Pippin laughed.. “Well, fellows,” said Merry, “who’ll go first?”

Legolas shook his head. He preferred to go last.

Gimli snorted. “I’ll go first then, laddies!” He stood up on top of his chair. “Master Samwise is rather fond of this piece:

     The world was young, the mountains green;

     No stain yet on the Moon was seen,

     No words were laid on stream or stone

     When Durin woke and walked alone.

     He named the nameless hills and dells;

     He drank from yet untasted wells;

     He stooped and looked in Mirrormere,

     The world was fair, the mountains tall,

     The world was fair in Durin’s Day…”

As he chanted, the hobbits in the crowded room listened raptly, carried into a time and place long ago and far away. Merry and Pippin found themselves remembering the mines of Moria and the great city of Dwarrowdelf, and the first time they had heard Gimli speak this piece.

     …There lies his crown in water deep,

     Till Durin wakes again from sleep. (1)

Gimli gave a bow, and hopped down from the chair.

“Whew! That’s a right corker, that is, Mr. Gimli,” said Tom. “I can see why Sam was so taken with it."   The other hobbits seemed to agree. There was applause all around.

Now Danulf stood up. The hobbits all quieted and craned their necks up at him, not quite sure what to expect.

“Éomer King ordered a song made at Edoras, to honor our Holdwine Meriadoc. This is part of it.”

Merry gave a little moan and blushed scarlet. He started to slide down in his seat, but with a grin, Pippin and Freddy each grabbed an arm and pulled him back up.

“You won’t escape that easily, cousin,” said Pippin with a chuckle. “Sit up and be praised like a Rohirrim should!”

Merry shot his younger cousin a glare, but it had no effect on the young Took except to make him grin even harder.

Lifting his chin, Danulf began to declaim in a firm voice:

     Hearken now and hear of the holbyltlan, little people out of legend,

     Small in stature yet stout-hearted , they rode to the rescue of Rohan.

     In the darkest of days, war was wont to loom upon the land;

     Now from the North came Meriadoc Saradoc’s son, strong and sturdy.

     For love of the lord of the land, Théoden, kind and kingly,

     He promised and pledged his faith and fealty.

     With Éowyn Éomund’s daughter who bore him to battle,

     He followed his lord through death and destruction,

     And with his sword-sister, shield-maiden most valiant,

     He helped her to fell the foul dwimmerlaik with his blade bespelled

     Striking the sorcerer to save his sword-sister

     Upon the bloody battlefield before the great gates of Mundberg

     In the last desperate defense of his liege and lord.

As Danulf finished, he gave a nod. The hobbits all applauded, and there were some cries of “Hurrah! Three cheers for Captain Meriadoc!” and “Meriadoc for the Shire!”

As Danulf sat back down upon the floor, Artamir arose. “I guess that it is my turn now.” He turned and gave a mischievous look to Pippin, who suddenly feared that the story of the troll might be forthcoming. “There is a new song in Gondor, now very popular, called ‘The Smallest Guardsman’. I do fear me that the minstrel who made it took a few liberties with the story for the sake of the rhymes, but I think that it does our good Sir Peregrin justice.” The Gondorian sat on the edge of the table and began to sing.

Pippin’s jaw dropped. He was less embarrassed than confused. In this song he did all sorts of improbable things, like ride with Gandalf when he chased away the Nazgûl or light the beacons ( “It didn’t happen that way” he muttered. “The beacons were already lit!” This earned him an elbow from Merry and a giggle from Fredegar.) To top it all off, the song had him single-handedly shoving Faramir from the pyre, and Denethor jumping from the seventh level of the city as he burned. There was a constant refrain of Ernil i Pheriannath as well. ( “It didn’t happen that way at all! And keep your elbow to yourself!”)

Artamir wound up into the refrain again of the rather catchy tune, and a lot of the hobbits had begun to sing along. (“Wonderful! Now I’ll have to listen to this all the time!”)

Freddy turned to Pippin. “I do know what you mean, Pippin. Have you heard some of the nonsense they’ve begun to sing about me?”

Jolly heard this and grinned. “Well, Captain Freddy, how about we start up a chorus of ‘How Fatty Popped the Pimple’?” This was a currently popular, raucously funny and wildly inaccurate account of a rather successful raid that Fredegar had led on one of Lotho’s leaf shipments to the South. Jolly was well aware of how inaccurate the song was, as he had been one of the raiders.

Artamir had finished with his song. Freddy’s eyes grew wide. “Shh, Jolly, not so loud…”

Merry and Pippin sniggered and Pippin said “You know, Freddy, I had been wanting to ask about that--”

Legolas had been watching this byplay with a smile. “I do believe,” he said “that it is my turn now.” He stood up with a single graceful movement and went to sit upon the table as Artamir had. The silence in the room as the hobbits watched him was profound. “I will sing you a song of the maiden Nimrodel, who bore the same name as the stream beside which she lived long ago. This is in the Westron speech, as some in Rivendell now sing it.”

            An Elven maid there was of old,

          A shining star by day:

     Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,

           Her shoes of silver-grey.

               ***

     A star was bound upon her brow,

          A light was on her hair

    As sun upon the golden boughs

          In Lórien the fair.

                ***

     Her hair was long, her limbs were white,

          And fair she was and free;

     And in the wind she went as light

          As leaf of linden-tree

              ***

     Beside the falls of Nimrodel,

      By water clear and cool,

     Her voice as falling silver fell

          Into the shining pool.

               ***

     Where now she wanders none can tell,

          In sunlight or in shade;

     For lost of yore was Nimrodel

          And in the mountains strayed.(2)

                    ***

In his fair clear Elven voice unlike any the hobbits had heard before, he unfolded the long sad story. They listened as though entranced, and when he was finished, there was no sound except for an occasional sniffle. There was not a dry eye to be seen. Several hobbits were searching for their pocket-handkerchiefs.

Legolas gave a brief nod of acknowledgement, and then turned his head to say, “I do believe that now Master Peregrin owes us a song.”

Flashing a brilliant smile, Pippin sprang to the top of the table. “Well, my lads, on a night this special there is only one possible song to sing.” And he launched into a ditty not heard in the Shire since Lotho had the inns torn down.

You can search for far and wide,

You can drink the whole town dry,

You can never find a beer so brown;

You can never find a beer so brown;

You can never find a beer so brown--

As the ones we drink in our home town!

***

You can keep your fancy ales,

You can drink them by the flagon!

But the only brew for the brave and true

Comes from the Green Dragon! (3)

***

This was greeted by loud cheers and cries of “Again! Again, Mr. Pippin!”

Pippin laughed, and reached a hand down to Merry, pulling his cousin up to stand on the table beside him.

You can search for far and wide…

_________________________________________

After many choruses of the song, and others beside, ( including, at Jolly’s instigation, the one Fredegar had dreaded ) the evening finally drew to a close. The hobbits and their friends stepped out beneath the stars. Old Toby stopped Merry and Pippin for a second. “Thank you, sirs.”

Merry smiled and shook his head. “It’s quite all right, Toby. It’s just good to have the Shire getting back to normal.”

_________________________________________

(1) From The Fellowship of the Ring, Book 2, Chapter 4, “A Journey in the Dark

(2) From The Fellowship of the Ring, Book 2, Chapter 6, “Lothlórien”

(3) From the film The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King

CHAPTER 31

Frodo, Saradoc and Paladin were in the front room, enjoying some wine and a leisurely pipe, as they discussed the morrow’s journey.

After a while, Paladin gave an ostentatious yawn, and stretching, said “I think I will retire early tonight. We have a very busy day tomorrow, and I need the rest.”

Frodo and Saradoc bid him good night, but Frodo raised a skeptical brow as he watched the Took leave the room. He turned to his cousin.

“All right, Uncle Sara. What is this all about? It’s obvious that everyone has plotted to get us alone together. It must be something fairly dire.”

Saradoc gave a wry chuckle. “You always were an intelligent lad.” He took out Eglantine’s letter, and passed it to the younger hobbit.

Frodo took it from him with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity; he unfolded it and began to read. As he did so, Saradoc watched the play of emotions across his face, from curious amusement, to dismay to anger to distress. The older hobbit sighed. He had been afraid that Frodo would take it this way.

Putting the letter aside, Frodo looked up, his face pale, his eyes brimming. “You can’t think to make me go through this!” he pleaded. “You don’t understand!”

Saradoc shook his head. “Frodo, no one will make you do this if you should refuse. You know that Esme and I would never allow you to be coerced into something that would hurt you in any way,” he said gently. “Tell me, my dear lad, why does the gratitude and respect of these Men pain you so?”

“Because I do not deserve it! Because I am not what they think I am! Because I failed!” Frodo took a shuddering breath. “I know Merry told you what happened!”

“Merry told me that when you reached the fire, you were attacked by the creature that used to have the Ring, and that he fell into the fire with it,” said Saradoc softly. “And that is *all* he told me.” He reached across and gently took his kinsman’s right hand in his own. Frodo flinched, but did not pull away. “But this--” he touched the stub of the missing finger, “tells me that the Ring was on your hand when it happened. He cut off your finger to get it--”

“Bit it off,” Frodo whispered. “So you see, I did fail. I claimed the Ring. Gandalf said I did not fail because I spared Gollum; but I should have been the one--” he stopped speaking abruptly, not willing to reveal more.

“The one to go into the fire? That was your intent, was it not?” Saradoc’s voice was gentle and sad. “To cast yourself into the fire with the Ring.”

Frodo’s face jerked up in shock. “How did you know that? I never told--not even Gandalf; though he may have read it in my thoughts. But he never said anything.”

“I know,” Saradoc answered, “because you are my dear lad whom I helped raise, and because it would not be the first time in your life that you thought of casting yourself away.”

He reached up and placed a finger under Frodo’s chin, and tilted up his face to look into the tear-filled blue eyes.

“Do you remember the first night we put you to bed without a sleeping draught, after you lost your parents?”

Frodo’s eyes widened, and he nodded. How could he forget slipping out of bed, out of Brandy Hall, and making his way to the riverbank, ready to join his mother and father in the dark waters of the Brandywine. But he heard Saradoc calling his name, and had pretended he had only come out for a bit of fresh air. “You followed me!” he said in wonder. “You knew what I wanted to do. That’s why you moved me to another room the next day.”

“Yes, an inner room with no window, and you had to come through our room to go out.”

Suddenly a great many things became crystal clear to Frodo. Privacy had been so hard to come by in Brandy Hall. Now he realized that it had been deliberate. That all that time, they had known of his dark thoughts, and protected him from them.

“We had to watch you so closely those first two years. And then--”

“And then Merry was born. He saved my life, Uncle Sara. He gave me something to hold onto.”

“I know.”

Frodo felt his kinsman’s solemn regard. He had always loved Saradoc and Esmeralda; he had also always been too aware that they were not his parents. He had known they loved him, but he never before realized how deeply, or how much care they had taken for him.

“I never really appreciated you properly, did I? But I have always been grateful.”

“You were young and grieving. And gratitude is a good thing, not to be lightly dismissed. Whether you wish to acknowledge it or not, you do deserve the gratitude and the honor that others wish to show you. And they deserve the chance to express it.”

“Do you really think all this--” he gestured with Eglantine’s letter, “will help?”

"Oh, yes, no question of that,” Saradoc nodded. “It will help Paladin and me; it will help your friend the King; and most of all, it will help Sam.”

“Very well,” Frodo said. He allowed himself a wry smile. “But when it comes to it, I cannot promise to like it. On the other hand, I must confess, it will be somewhat amusing to see some of their faces.”

Saradoc smiled too. He could imagine a few of them himself.

Frodo reached over and took both of Saradoc’s hands in his. “Thank you. I love you, Uncle Sara.”

“I know, son.”

_______________________________________________

CHAPTER 32

The next morning amid the bustle and confusion at Bag End, Sam arrived, escorting Rosie and Marigold. Merry and Pippin were piling packs and luggage in the front hall.

As soon as he saw Sam come in, Pippin started fumbling with the straps on Pearl’s traveling case. “Oh, Thunder! I just can’t seem to get these right!”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Here Mr. Pippin, let me show you the *correct* way to do it.”

Mr. Merry laughed and Mr. Pippin made a face. Sam sighed. Four more days to go; and he was pretty sure that those two had made a wager as to which of them would get him to say it.

Rosie and Marigold giggled. He’d told Rosie, who’d told Marigold. He was pretty sure his sister had then told Tom. It was probably a good thing that they were going to Tookland, or he’d have the Cotton brothers at him, too, and sometimes they could be just as bad as Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin.

Four more days.

__________________________________________

Five more days until the assembly. Odovocar and his wife and daughter were sharing their carriage with Milo Burrows and his wife Peony.

“Well,” said Rosamunda, “we will have to stay at The Leaping Hare, as it would not be proper for the Took to host any of the delegates, but our son Fredegar will be staying at the Great Smials as a guest of Peregrin. So I’m sure that we’ll be spending a lot of time there.”

“Milo and I will be staying with his cousin Poppy and her family. She’s been the Took family healer for years.”

“That’s nice dear, it’s good to stay with family when one can. But at least The Leaping Hare has a good name.”

Estella heaved a long-suffering sigh. Sometimes her mother was just too embarrassing for words. But she was glad that they were going with her father to Tuckborough. She’d see her brother again. And Merry Brandybuck. She smiled.

___________________________________________

“Do we have to go, Father?” Clovis Banks’ voice held a distinct whine, despite the fact that he was very nearly of age. “None of them like us.”

“You know Aunt Eglantine’s never forgiven us for Pippin’s little mishap,” put in his younger brother Cado. “And besides, Merry Brandybuck will be there.” The threats of what Merry had said he would do if he ever laid eyes on the Banks brothers again was still fresh in Clovis’ and Cado’s minds even after nearly ten years.

“Listen now, sons,” Clodio’s tone was sharp. “I am going to try to get my sister dear to forgive you. Things are changing in the Shire, and being on the Tooks’ bad side is not helping us.” Few in the Shire were aware of his attempts to ingratiate himself with Lotho Sackville-Baggins, but if it ever came out, he could expect a lot of trouble. His sister’s good will could make the difference. “You will make nice and apologize for past behavior, and if you have to grovel to Peregrin and Meriadoc, you will do so.”

____________________________________________

Ponto Baggins was among the first of the assembly to arrive at The Leaping Hare. He had brought with him his daughter, Angelica.

“My dear,” he said to her, after they had settled into their rooms and come down for a bit of luncheon, “all I’m asking is that you *think* about it, for the family’s sake. Thirteen years is not, after all, such a very great difference, and he does look very young for his age. He’s kind and very intelligent, nice-looking--I’ve even heard some lasses think him handsome-- and well-off. The truth is, that if something is not done soon, you very well may be the last Baggins left in the Shire.”

Angelica nodded, but she was troubled. As fond as she was of her cousin Frodo, she had never before considered him as a husband, and she was not sure she could bring herself to do so now.  What if he felt the same way?

_______________________________________________

Eglantine winced as she heard the shrill voice calling her name--”Eglantine! Eglantine, I must speak with you immediately.”

Carefully schooling her face before turning, Eglantine sighed. “Yes, Hyacinth, what can I do for you?”

“Reggie has informed me that Frodo Baggins is bringing his *gardener* here as a guest! And not only that, but his sister as well, and that farmer’s daughter he’s marrying! What can you be thinking to allow something like this!”

“Hyacinth, if Reggie told you, then I assume he also told you the rest.” Eglantine spoke firmly.

“Well, of course dear, one must be *kind*. But still…”

“Samwise Gamgee will be here as an honored guest, as will his sister and his intended. You and your daughters will be more than just ‘kind’. You will be polite and gracious. You will *not* be condescending, or making any sort of remarks that could be taken as ‘putting someone in her place’! If I see, hear or so much as suspect any such thing, you will heartily regret it. Do I make myself clear?”

Eglantine so seldom unsheathed her claws that Hyacinth had quite forgot how formidable the Thain’s wife could be. She quickly backed away.

“Of course, Eglantine, I would *never* think of such a thing! I was simply worried about what some people might say. You know how people gossip.”

“You let me worry about that. Now I have things to attend to.” She turned and went her way.

Hyacinth stared after her, speculation in her eyes. What *was* Eglantine up to?

_____________________________________________

Pimpernel and Pervinca looked at the half dozen dresses spread over Pimmie’s bed. Between the two of them, with a needle and with dye, they had managed to make them look just different enough that those who had seen Pimpernel wear them in the past would wonder if they were the same dresses or not.

“They look almost new. And far more in style now. Are you sure you want to give them up, Pim?”

Pimpernel laughed, and placed her hand on her abdomen. “I would not be able to wear them for much longer anyway,” she laughed, for she had just discovered that she was with child again. “But I will be glad to see Sam’s betrothed and his sister in them. My only fear is that they will think of it as charity and refuse them.”

“I think that Pearl will have been able to persuade them that it is done,” and this was true enough. Upper class lasses often traded or borrowed one another’s garments without any connotations of “hand-me-downs”. “Besides, these are so nice now, I don’t see how any lass could refuse them.” Pervinca cast an envious eye on the dresses. But she was too thin and too tall to wear her sister’s dresses.

“That’s true,” said Pimpernel, running her hand over the lace on one of them.

“Do you really think Mother’s plan will work?” Pervinca had some misgivings about the whole thing.

“I don’t see why not. You know how easily impressed some people are.”

They both laughed, thinking of “the Jewelry” as they called Hyacinth’s daughters. It was a shame that a hobbit as nice as Uncle Reggie had to be saddled with such an unpleasant wife and such spoiled daughters.

______________________________________________________

The party of hobbits and the King’s delegation set out from Hobbiton after second breakfast. There were a few changes.

Merry and Pippin still rode in front of the standard bearers, but Freddy was riding back beside Legolas and Gimli. And Rosie and Marigold were riding between Frodo and Sam.

They made an impressive sight as they moved out, accompanied part of the way by a crowd of waving, cheering hobbits, many of whom had been in The Green Dragon the night before. They were still moving at a slow enough pace that Tom Cotton was able to walk alongside Marigold’s pony for a while.

“I’m going to be missing you, Mari. Don’t you go taking up with any of them fancy Tooks, now.”

“You know you’re the only hobbit for me, Tom Cotton. But I’m going to have some fun anyway, so there!” She gave him a mischievous smile, accented with a dimple. His heart gave a lurch.

He looked over at Sam. “You’d better watch out for her.”

“She’s my sister. I’ve been watching out for her a lot longer than you have, Tom Cotton. Don’t you worry none. And I’ll take quite good care of your sister, too.”

Frodo smiled. He was so glad the lasses had agreed to go. Sam was beaming, the happiest he‘d seen him since they left for Buckland. He felt a bit sorry for Tom though. He glanced down at the young hobbit, who would soon have to turn back. “Don’t worry at all, Tom. Sam’s quite good at watching after folks. And I’ll help watch over her as well.”

“Thank you, Mr. Frodo. Well, I guess I’d better turn back before I get trampled over by one of these here ponies. Good-bye Mari, and hurry home!”

________________________________________________

Bergil was excited. He was going to see Pippin’s home, and meet his friend’s mother and sisters. He had heard a little bit about the Great Smials, but he couldn’t really imagine. He wished he had taken a chance to see the Ringbearer’s home at Bag End--he’d heard a lot about it, especially from old Master Bilbo when he was at Imladris. But it looked as though Targon might let him go stay at the Smials, as he had at Brandy Hall. He grinned, thinking of how Pippin and Sir Merry had made him an honorary cousin--that had been a lot of fun. It really was fun to have someone to get into mischief with. He wondered what they would do at Pippin’s home. He wondered if there were any hobbit cousins close to his age, like at Brandy Hall. He gave a little bounce of excitement, slightly startling his pony.

“Easy, Bergil,” said Leodwald, who had been watching him in amusement. “Do not get the animals excited. Unlike you, they do not care for excitement.”

Tip looked over at his new friend. The lad obviously needed something to take his mind off things and calm him down. “Bergil, do you know any riddles?”

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Targon looked at the procession ahead of him, and watched as the crowd of hobbits around them gradually melted away. The Thain had told them that the conclave would begin in five days. Once it started it could take as little as three days to as long as a couple of weeks for the heads of the various families to reach a consensus. Once that was done, and the King’s document signed, they’d be heading back to the South.

He was going to be sorry to see this mission end. He found himself fascinated by the hobbits, and growing very fond of the ones he had been spending much time with, especially the Thain and the Master. It was easy to see why Peregrin and Meriadoc were so remarkable, with such fathers as they had. He realized how much he was going to miss the Shire when he headed home. He hoped that the assembly took as long as possible to come to an agreement.

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CHAPTER 33

As they rode through Tuckborough, a crowd came out to watch, waving and calling, mostly cries of “Master Pippin!” and “Thain Paladin!” accompanied by cheers.

A few of those who had already arrived for the assembly were looking out from the windows of The Leaping Hare, which had rapidly filled up. The other two inns, neither as large or as popular were also getting an unusually large custom, and any latecomers were going to be hard put to it to find a place to stay.

Clodio Banks and his wife Beryl were watching the procession along with Dago Bracegirdle. “Look at it. Have you ever seen anything so ostentatious?” he asked.

“It may be showy, but those men look like they know what to do with those weapons. And look there--I could swear that’s an Elf with that Dwarf, there on the white horse riding next to Freddy Bolger.” Both men made faces. The Bolger lad had cost them dearly during the Troubles, but so far that was not common knowledge.

Ponto and Angelica Baggins were watching from the window of their room. Ponto was somewhat amazed at the size of the party. There were at least nine men--no eight men, one of those creatures was an Elf! And there was a Dwarf riding with it. Frodo rode ahead of it, alongside two comely lasses and his gardener Samwise Gamgee. He wondered who the lasses were. It wouldn’t do if Frodo had already cast his eye somewhere else. He had his heart set on his daughter re-establishing the Baggins line.

Angelica sighed. She recognized the lasses; those were Samwise’s sister and his betrothed, so no chance that Frodo had interest in either of them. If she recalled correctly, Sam’s sister was already betrothed. She had probably come along as chaperone to Sam and his intended. So no real obstacles visible to her father’s plan. A pity. She just didn’t have the heart to tell him ‘no’ when he started that talk about being the last of the Bagginses. Would Frodo make such an awful husband, really? After all, she was already fond of him. And she had to admit, he did look splendid, riding along like that. Keep it up, Angelica, she told herself, you may convince yourself yet.

Clovis and Cado were watching from the street with a few of their chums. This was the first time they had seen Pippin since his return from Outside, and they boggled. They had heard rumors that he and Merry had grown while they were gone, but it was not something they had believed, thinking it was just the exaggeration accompanying all the stories of how they had rid the Shire of ruffians. But it was certainly true. Those two were at least a head taller than the tallest hobbits either of them had ever seen; Pippin would certainly not be a target for their teasing anymore.

“Look at the armor, and the swords!” hissed Cado.

“I’m looking! I’m looking!” replied his brother. “What’s frightening is that they look as though they know what to do with them.”

The brothers felt more apprehensive than ever. If Pippin decided to hold their little jest against them still, if Merry decided to carry out his threats, there would not be a thing they could do to stop them. Maybe after ten years, and being gone, and all, they would forget about it. Except Aunt Eglantine never had. Nor had the Thain.

Amethyst, Garnet and Opal had slipped away from the Smials earlier in the day to avoid being called on for many of the various tasks Eglantine had been handing out right and left. Hyacinth would have been horrified to see her daughters standing there on the street gawking at the riders going by.

“Oh my stars!” said Amethyst. “Look what Cousin Pippin’s wearing around his neck!”

“That *must* be solid gold!” replied Opal.

“Look at the Elf!” breathed Garnet. “Have you ever seen anything so lovely? He’s incredible!” She heaved a sigh. Her sisters took a closer look at the Elf, and sighed themselves. What an exotic creature he was! Would they get to meet him?

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Reginard was supervising the erection of the great pavilion where the assembly would meet on the east side of the assembly field across from the Great Smials. A large area on the west side of the field, closest to the Smials was being left for the King’s Men to set up their encampment. He had not seen Hyacinth since early that morning. She had been in rare form when she found out about the Gamgee lad coming as a guest. He hoped she was not giving Eglantine any headaches right now.

Actually, she was searching high and low for her daughters. Eglantine needed some help with some invitations she was sending, and if her daughters could help with that she might be able to find out who was coming and what the Thain’s wife was up to. Of course, it never occurred to her to volunteer to address the invitations herself.

It was almost time for luncheon. Eglantine was having a picnic spread in the assembly field, near where the encampment would be laid out; she expected the travellers to arrive in plenty of time to eat, and she was not wrong.

Soon they saw the tips of the banners appearing above the little rise in the road just north of the Smials, followed by all the riders. Tooks poured out from everywhere calling out and cheering. As the group stopped in front of the Smials gate, hobbits from the stables came running out to take care of the ponies. They looked a bit taken aback and fearful, though, at the sight of the horses. There were sounds of relief as Leodwald explained that the horses would be picketed near the encampment.

Eglantine and her daughters were waiting by the gate, with some of the other Tooks of the Smials ranged behind them. Reginard stood at her side.

The riders dismounted thankfully, and the Thain gave his wife a formal public embrace, while taking an instant to whisper “Later,” making her blush. But Pippin barely gave his father time to move away before he grabbed Eglantine by the waist, exclaiming “Mother!” as he swung her around in a fierce hug. He had not seen his mother since Yule and the sight of her had made him suddenly realize how much he had missed her.

There was a chance now for a brief greeting from the rest of the kin, Pearl, Merry, Esmerelda, Saradoc, Frodo and Fredegar, and then the Thain began introductions.

“My dear, you remember Samwise Gamgee? This is his sister, Miss Marigold Gamgee, and his betrothed, Miss Rose Cotton.” Both lasses curtsied briefly and blushed prettily as Eglantine took their hands. They are charming, she thought. It’s a good thing they are both betrothed, or they would certainly wreak havoc around here. She looked at Sam’s beaming face as he regarded his bride-to-be. She had not seen him since the return, and was struck by how much more confident and less diffident he seemed than the shy young gardener she had seen from time to time at Bag End.

Next Paladin drew forth Gimli. “This is Gimli, son of Gloín, who saved Peregrin’s life after his battle with the troll.”

Eglantine’s eyes filled with tears, and she gave the embarrassed Dwarf a brief embrace. “We can never repay you,” she whispered.

Gimli blushed beneath his beard. “Mistress Took, he was my comrade; there is no question of debt between us.”

Then it was Legolas’ turn to be introduced. He knelt down to take her hand as Paladin said “Here is Legolas Greenleaf, of Mirkwood, who was one of Peregrin’s companions on his journey.” They had agreed in advance not to mention his royal status in public yet.

She looked up into his eyes and blushed in spite of herself. My goodness, he was beautiful! “It is an honor to meet one of the Fair Folk,” she said.

His face held resigned amusement as he said “It is a great pleasure to meet the mother of my dear friend Pippin.” It was a shame that the hobbits were not more used to Elves, maybe if that were so, he would not be so impressive. At least Pippin’s mother was not tongue-tied.

Now the Thain introduced the envoys. “Eglantine, this is Targon son of Cirion, who represents King Elessar of Gondor, and Éothain Éodred’s son, who represents King Éomer of Rohan.”

Finally he introduced all the Men, finishing up with “And here is Bergil son of Beregond, who is Peregrin’s dear friend from Gondor.”

The lad looked a bit abashed, but took her hand nicely, and blushing said “I am really glad to meet the mother of my Sir Pippin.” He looked over to where Pippin was talking to his sisters, and she saw the gleam of hero-worship in his eyes. According to what she had been told in Paladin’s letters, the child was only eleven years old, and motherless as well. Poor thing, so far from home. But he had come all this way to be with her son, and her heart went out to him.

“I am glad to meet you as well, Bergil. Pippin has told us much about you. He said that you and your father helped to make him much less lonely while he was in your great stone city.” She smiled as he blushed with pleasure to be praised. He seemed like a sweet lad, very serious and polite.

Now that the formal introductions were made, there would be time for conversation. She signaled that it was time to set the luncheon out, and turned to speak to Fredegar. She gave him a brief embrace. “I heard about Folco,” she said, her eyes filling. “I was so sorry.”

Freddy felt his own tears begin, but he blinked them away, and took a deep breath. He would not let the grief overwhelm him right now. “Thank you, Eglantine. I know that you were really quite fond of him, too.”

Pippin looked over to see his mother talking to Freddy. Then he turned his attention to his sister Pimpernel, who seemed to have something she wished to tell him.

“Pip, I wanted you to be among the first to know--you’re going to be an uncle again.” She grinned.

He gave her a whoop of joy, and grabbed her in a hug. He almost started to swing her about as he had his mother, but stopped himself. “Sorry, Pimmie. I almost got carried away.”

She laughed. “I won’t break from being hugged, little brother.” Then she laughed again. “Listen at me. ‘Little’.” She looked up at the young giant who had come home to them.

“I’ll always be your ‘little brother’, Pimmie.”

Pervinca was talking to Rose and Marigold. They were sweet lasses, she thought, though a bit shy and overwhelmed by the company they had suddenly found themselves in. She noticed the way Rose’s eyes constantly sought out Sam, who was busy talking to Frodo and Merry. It made her think about her husband Tanto.* He had gone into town to greet his father and uncle who had arrived for the assembly.

The conversations were soon interrupted by a serving hobbit, ringing a large handbell, a signal that luncheon was ready. There was a general rush to the picnic site, and the food that was set out there.

The Men all exchanged amazed glances at one another at the rapidity with which the hobbits dropped everything for the meal. Legolas laughed and placed a hand on Targon’s shoulder. “Do not ever come between hobbits and food. You will assuredly be trampled.”

_________________________________________________

After luncheon, Pervinca escorted Rose and Marigold to their guest room. They were sharing a very nice room near the quarters of the Thain’s family; Eglantine had given instruction that one of her daughters was to to stick with the lasses like glue at all times, unless they were with Sam, Frodo, Merry or Pippin. Most especially they were to deflect Hyacinth and “the Jewelry” from saying anything unpleasant. Eglantine did not trust Hyacinth as far as she could throw her, and as for her daughters, she did not think they had enough intelligence to know what kind of trouble an unkind remark could land them in.

“Oh, Miss Pervinca! This is such a beautiful room.” Marigold had a hint of questioning in her praise. It was hard to believe that she and Rosie would be staying here.

There were two guest beds, with coverlets of pale yellow, all broidered with flowers and edged with lace. The curtains were gauzy, and blew in softly. A porcelain washbasin and ewer stood on a washstand, with towels embroidered to match the beds, and a dish of dainty smelling soaps. In one corner stood a large wardrobe of dark wood, with flowers painted on its doors. In another corner was a little desk and chair. Soft rugs lay on the stone floor next to each bed.

“Look at the view, Mari!” exclaimed Rosie, for the window had an excellent view of the south gardens. “Miss Pervinca, thank you.”

Pippin’s youngest sister smiled. “If you want to thank me, you can start by calling me Vinca.”

“Thank you--Vinca,” said Rosie shyly.

Marigold’s eyes widened. What would the Gaffer say if he heard her calling the daughter of the Thain by her nickname? It wouldn’t be at all proper. As soon as the thought entered her mind, it made her think of Sam, and Mr. Frodo’s challenge. And come to think of it, it wouldn’t be ‘proper’ to call someone something they didn’t want to be called, would it? She was going to have to give this some thought.

Just then there was a knock on the door. Vinca opened it, and there stood her sisters. Pearl was holding a darling little baby, not quite a year old yet.

“His Auntie Pearl is not good enough for him, dear, he wants his momma,” she said, handing little Largo over to Vinca as she entered the room. Pimmie came in also, and Rosie and Marigold could see two little ones peeking out behind her skirts.

“Come now, lasses, say ‘how do you do?’ to the nice ladies.” Four year old Flora looked up with wide eyes.

“How do-do,” she said with her finger in her mouth.

Alyssum, who was just barely two, and not even a faunt yet, let go of her mother’s skirt and promptly fell over. Pimmie laughed and scooped her younger daughter up into her arms.

“Oh, they are beautiful children!” exclaimed Rosie, bending over to put her hand on Flora’s chestnut curls and gazing into the huge green eyes. “She looks like her Uncle Pippin did when he was small!”

“Why thank you!” said Pimpernel. “I find that quite a compliment, although he certainly does not like to be reminded what a beautiful baby he was.” She turned to Pervinca. “Have you shown them the dresses yet?”

“Dresses?” asked Marigold.

“More importantly,” said Pearl, “have you told them about the ball?”

“Ball?” asked Rosie.

“Ball,” answered Pearl firmly.

Rosie and Marigold exchanged amazed looks.

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*The character of Tanto Hornblower was loaned to me by Lulleny, from her story "The Prodigal Took"

CHAPTER 34

“A ball, Tina?” asked Esmeralda. “However did you come up with a ball?”

The sisters-in-law were in Eglantine’s sitting room plotting their strategy.

“I wanted something that was rare, and since the last ball held in the Shire was fifteen years ago when Paladin became Thain, I think that qualifies as rare. It automatically puts it at the top of the gossips’ lists on that score alone. It also means we can use the ballroom, so that our guests will not be at a disadvantage,” ( The ceilings in the ballroom were four times the normal height.) “and best of all a ball is formal, so that means the guests of honor will be announced *with all their titles* in utmost pomp.” She grinned.

“You do realize that none of the hobbits here will have the slightest understanding of what the title ’Ringbearer’ means?”

“It doesn’t matter, Esme. That’s what’s so lovely! Hobbits understand *precedence*. It will be made crystal clear that as far as our new King is concerned, Frodo and Sam outrank everyone else in the world, including the Thain and a Prince of Elves.”

Esmeralda laughed delightedly. Seeing her dear Frodo receive such honor would do her heart good. “And certain people can put *that* bit of leaf in their pipes to smoke!”

____________________________________________

Pervinca shifted Largo on her hip, and went over to the wardrobe to open it and take out the half dozen dresses hanging there.

“Now my dears, let’s choose your dresses for the ball.”

While the babies played on one bed, the five lasses laid the dresses out on the other, and soon there was much chatter and giggling.

“I do believe, Marigold, that the color on this one suits your--” Pervinca was saying, when they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Pearl opened the door, and there stood Pippin and Sam, with Rose’s and Marigold’s traveling bags.

“See, Sam, I told you it sounded like a lot more than two lasses in here!”

Pearl gestured them in. “Pip, why didn’t you just have a servant bring those?”

“And pass up the chance to pester my sisters, and deprive Sam of a chance to see Rosie?” He grinned at his friend, whose eyes had immediately latched onto those of his betrothed. They took an involuntary step towards one another, oblivious to anyone else.

“Oh my,” said Pimmie, “they have got it bad!”

“None worse,” said Marigold. “Rosie!” She snapped her fingers at her friend to get her attention.

Pippin gave Sam a jab in the side. “Come on, Sam, they are talking about dresses, and if we linger they may decide to make us model them for them.” He was only half joking. He still had terrifying childhood memories of his sisters using him as a dress dummy. He gave Sam a sly look--his friend was still not paying attention. “Of course, I could just leave you here with the lasses--”

That got him with a jolt. “Mr. Pippin! You know that would not--” he caught himself just in time. “be ’appropriate’,” he finished with reproach.

Pippin laughed. “Well, you can’t blame a fellow for trying.” He took Sam by the arm and led him away.

Pearl shut the door behind them, and the lasses dissolved into gales of laughter.

____________________________________________________

Hyacinth was in rare form as she berated her daughters. “I cannot believe that daughters of mine would stand on the corner of the streets of Tuckborough to stare after a parade of riders just like any common hobbit! Right out in public for everyone to see! It was useless anyway! If you had been here, you would have been introduced to the guests when they arrived, and you would have been in a position to find out what Eglantine is up to. We have people staying here in the Smials as *guests* that by rights ought to be in the servants’ quarters, for goodness’ sake! We may be *forced* to socialize with them--Eglantine is adamant on this!”

Amethyst, Garnet and Opal rolled their eyes and slouched as they endured another of their mother’s tirades. It was not that they did not agree with her, but she did tend to just go on and on and on. Besides, they really wished to get out of here, and see if they could come across that Elf.

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Legolas looked with amusement at the room that had been prepared for him. They had removed the footboards and placed two hobbit sized beds end to end. Fortunately, the ceilings in the Great Smials, like those of Brandy Hall, were quite a bit higher than those at Crickhollow or Bag End. He was touched by the effort they had gone to and not for the world would he tell them that he would prefer to slip outside and perch in a tree. Still, he did not find hobbit holes to be oppressive, as he did Dwarven caverns. Hobbit holes were lighter, with many windows, and the weight of earth was more alive than the weight of stone.

There was a knock on the door.

“Enter, Gimli.”

The Dwarf came in. “They’ve put me in the next room. This is quite a hole. Very well built indeed, even if it is of earth instead of stone.” He sat down on the edge of the makeshift bed, and watched the Elf opening wide the windows, which overlooked the west gardens. “Lad, did you get the feeling that our Master Pippin’s mother is up to something?”

Legolas laughed. “I daresay she is. She had a look in her eye that I have often seen gleaming in that of her son; Merry’s mother also. But females are always ‘up to something’. As long as that ‘something’ does not involve marrying me off, I do not try to fathom it. I do not think that I have reason to be concerned about *that* here, at least.”

The Dwarf chuckled and nodded. “You have a point there. Besides, I think whatever it is involves our Samwise; otherwise, why have him bring his intended along?”

Legolas looked at Gimli, and his expression changed to fondly serious. “The only couple I have ever seen in my long years as besotted as those two, are our King and Queen.”

Gimli smiled. “They are destined for one another, that is obvious.” His expression turned serious. “How does Frodo seem to you?”

“He is clearly making an effort to regain his life,” Legolas sighed, “and that is what troubles me most: that he is having to make an *effort* of it. Come, mellon nin, let us go and find our hosts. And I should like to check on Arod.”

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Frodo lay on the bed in the guest room assigned to him. It was one he had stayed in many times in the past. He had agreed to go along with Eglantine’s little charade, and he could quite see her point. It would establish Sam as a person worthy of consideration and respect, and it would give Paladin and Saradoc a handle to use on the assembly.

But he still didn’t think he was going to like it.

He’d gone through worse.

He kept reminding himself of that.

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Originally, Eglantine had planned to put Merry in with Pippin, with Pippin’s new bed there even larger than the one he had at home in Crickhollow, and give Bergil Merry’s usual guest room, also furnished now with a larger bed.

“Merry,” asked Pippin hesitantly, “what would you think if I had Bergil in with me?”

Merry raised a brow. “Instead of me? Well, a bit surprised, but not at all offended. After all, the child came hundreds of leagues to visit you.”

“Then I will see what he thinks of it; he is not used to sharing beds as hobbit children do, and he may not wish to, but I thought he might like it."

“That’s splendid, Pip.” Merry was pleased at his cousin’s thoughtfulness for the youngster. Pippin had never spent much time with lads younger than himself, and had not much experience at being the older friend.

“I just tried to think what you or Frodo would do. You were always so patient and careful with me, but you never made me feel like a baby.”

Merry blushed with pleasure at the compliment. It was nice to know he had set a good example.

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Fredegar shut the door to his room, took Folco’s flute from his jacket, and lay atop the bed, clutching it.

The last time he had been in this guest room was the summer before the Travellers had left the Shire. If he could have brought himself to go with them would anything have been different?

Perhaps not. Lotho had always been a nasty piece of work. He had simply taken advantage of Frodo’s absence; but if Frodo had stayed in the Shire things would have been infinitely worse. And though he had run it through his mind over and over, he could not think of what he could have done to save Folco.

And though his life had begun to once more move forward, the Shire still seemed a bleak and lonely and colorless place without his friend’s music in it.

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Targon and Éothain strolled about the encampment attended by the Thain and his cousin Reginard. From what they could understand, Reginard functioned as the Thain’s steward.

Reginard was impressed. Although Paladin had assured him that these Men were different, he had been skeptical. He had not a high opinion of Men’s intelligence. All the ones he had met before had been rather stupid, and wicked and brutal as well. But Paladin was right. These Men were intelligent and polite. They also seemed well-disposed towards hobbits. He thought of what Eglantine had in mind; he had not believed it would work. Now he was sure it would. These Men would definitely strike awe in the assembly of hobbits.

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Primrose and Peridot came to Eglantine’s sitting room, and found her there with their youngest sister. There were hugs all around, as they had not seen Esmerelda since Yule. She was glad to see her older sisters, though they were not especially close. There was a large gap in their ages. Primrose had never wed, and Peridot had long been widowed; they had been in their teens when Esmeralda was born. There had been a third older sister, as well, after whom Pearl was named, but she had died young, and Esmeralda had never known her.

“The invitations are finished, Tina,” said Primrose.

“Good. We’ll send them out at once,” she grinned at Esmerelda, “since it will be the night before the assembly opens.”

“My word, Tina! That’s short notice!”

Eglantine looked at her sisters-in-law like a general surveying the troops. “I know. But I don’t think there’s anyone in this room that’s not up to the task.”
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CHAPTER 35

The innkeeper at The Leaping Hare looked at the thick stack of envelopes that a messenger from the Smials had left. Invitations by the look of the heavy envelopes, each sealed with the Tooks’ crest, and addressed in three or four different handwritings.

Well, these were too important to let one of his lads or lasses deliver. He took them down the passage along which the rooms were built, and began to knock on doors.

Odovocar ran this thumb under the seal, and opened the envelope. His eyes widened as he scanned its contents and he handed it to his wife.

Rosamunda gave a little cry. “That’s only four days to get ready!”

Estella looked at her parents inquiringly.

“We are invited to a ball, my dear!” said her father.

_______________________________________________

Ponto showed the invitation to Angelica.

“A ball, my dear! It will be the perfect chance for you to impress young Frodo with your beauty!”

Angelica sighed. She was not by any means ugly. She thought that she was passably pretty; but only a fond father could think she was a beauty. And she still had serious doubts about his plan. He seemed to just assume that if she put her mind to it, Frodo would fall into her arms. Somehow she did not remember him as being that susceptible.

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Clodio Banks gave the invitation to his wife. Beryl was impressed with it, and excited at the chance to dressup and mingle with the Tooks.

But he was suspicious. Eglantine would not go to all the work and trouble of a ball if she did not have some definite end in mind.

Tomorrow he would call on his sister and try to effect a reconciliation. He had to find out what was going on, and getting back in her good graces was the first step.

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“Oh my!” exclaimed Dianthus Goodbody. “Longo, we need to go over to the Great Smials first thing tomorrow. We’ll see Pimmie and Milo, and I’ll find out if Eglantine needs some help with this undertaking.  She’s taken an awful large serving on her plate--a ball in four days, and an assembly in five!”

________________________________________________

Tanto had been getting ready to take his leave of his father, uncle and aunt, and return to the Great Smials and his wife and son, when the innkeeper knocked on the door of his uncle’s room.

As soon as he saw the envelope, he knew what it was. Vinca had told him of her mother’s plan with great glee, but he’d not said a word about it. He considered himself a Took now in everything but name; until he knew which way his canny Uncle Fosco was leaning, he’d not be giving away any of Paladin’s or Tina’s secrets.

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Olo Proudfoot, Chico Chubb and Polo Bunce were sharing a table and ale in the common room. Their wives were all in Olo’s room visiting and talking.

“I have heard that these Men from the South have come with a proposal of compensation for the Shire. Seems that they think they owe us for getting rid of Sharkey for them,” said Olo.

“What do you mean?” asked Chico.

Polo put in “I heard that he was one of their enemies in that big War the Travellers were in, and when they drove him out, he ended up here causing grief. At least that’s what I had from Odovocar Bolger and Milo Burrows. They’ve already had a chance to meet the envoys and talk to them, which I hardly think is fair.”

Just then the innkeeper came up to them, with three envelopes in his hand. “Sirs, I’ve messages for you from the Great Smials.”

The gentlehobbits took the envelopes and opened them. “Well,” snorted Olo, “it looks like we have something to occupy the wives now.”

Chico shook his head. “It’s a good thing it’s on such short notice. I won’t be pestered for a new frock, at least.”

Polo laughed. “A new frock will be the last thing on Lavender’s mind. She’s just looking forward to shop talk with Poppy Burrows. She’ll probably think of a ball as an interruption.” His wife Lavender was a well-known healer in Budgeford.

____________________________________________

Poppy was chatting to her cousin Milo and his wife Peony when the knock came at the door. She gave a great sigh, and wondered what the emergency might be; she kept an ear open as her apprentice answered the door, but heard no anxious voices, and soon the door closed again.

“Mistress Poppy,” her apprentice came in bearing two envelopes “you have letters from the Great Smials.”

“Thank you, Viola.” She took them and raised one eyebrow, then handed one to Milo. “Looks like invitations. I should have known that with the assembly coming up there would be social occasions.”

Milo had already opened his, and showed it to Peony. “It’s a ball, Poppy! How long has it been since there’s been a ball in the Shire?”

“Not long enough,” snorted the healer gruffly. “But it won’t do to offend the Took. I guess I’ll have to see if my suitable frock still fits.”

_____________________________________________

As the messenger galloped away, Mistress Whitfoot looked at the invitation in her hand. It was addressed to her husband, but she would have to see what it was before she passed it on. She knew he was getting much better, and he was champing at the bit to get back to being mayor.

A ball? There hadn’t been a ball since Paladin was invested as Thain. Well, that’s it then. He’d never forgive me if we miss this, she thought. Besides, it would be a good chance to wear that new dress.

Looked like they’d be travelling to Tuckborough after all. And The Leaping Hare would be full up by now. She sighed. Looked like they might have to impose on one of the cousins.

_________________________________________________

Back at the Great Smials, Paladin and Eglantine had greeted one another more fondly than possible in public, and after a tender interlude were getting ready to join the family at supper.

Eglantine sat at her dressing table brushing her curls.

“Tina.”

“Yes, dear.”

“I have something to show you. Come here please.” She got up and went over to where he sat on the bed. He had a pouch in his hand that made an interesting clink.

“Hold out your hands.” As she did so, he upended the pouch and poured a small stream of silver into her hands. "I think that the ball will not destroy the family budget now."

“Paladin! What on earth!”

“It seems that the King gave our son the honor last year of being made a knight. As a gift for the knighting he was given a hundred and fifty silver pennies from the King, and another fifty from the young Man whose life he saved, the Steward’s son. The King, however did not tell Peregrin that this stipend would be an annual affair. This sixty is what is left from that original gift. Pippin insisted I take it, and as he was just given another hundred fifty, and next year and every year hereafter will be sent *two* hundred fifty, I accepted.”

Her eyes were wide in shock. “Paladin, sixty silver is three times as much as the average hobbit earns in a year!”

He shrugged. “It embarrasses me to say this, dear, but if it were not that Merry’s king has been similarly generous to him, I would have given this to him. Do you realize that for years our nephew has been subsidizing our son? When they left on their journey, Merry was fully prepared to bear all Pippin’s expenses.”

“I’ve known that for a long time, dear. But we never trusted Pippin with much pocket money. He was so spendthrift as a lad.”

“Well, we may have done him an injustice. He has a great deal more left of this after a year than I would have thought. And from what I have been able to pry out of Meriadoc, a great deal of what Pippin did spend was on others.”

“Did that surprise you, love?”

Paladin looked thoughtful. “Yes. But it should not have, I should have known my son better than I do. I am ashamed to say that it took seeing him through the eyes of others to discover what a splendid person he is.”

“It’s often that way for parents, dear. To us he will always be the baby we watched over when he was ill, the lad who could get into so much mischief we wondered would he even live to be a tweenager, and who drove us mad with his questions. And he bore a double burden, being the youngest, which made us overprotective, and being the only son, which made us expect too much too soon.”

“Made *me*, you mean,” chuckled her husband. “Now you are being diplomatic.”

Eglantine smiled. “Dearest, I am his mother, you are his father. Two entirely different creatures.”

She leaned over to kiss him, and as he returned her kiss, they both wondered if there was time for another interlude before supper.

_________________________________________________

After tea, the younger hobbits had gone out into the gardens with their guests.

Sam and Rosie had managed to wander off, hands entwined, as he pointed out all the various kinds of roses to be found there. Pearl trailed along at a discreet distance, just enough to keep them in sight and preserve the proprieties.

They neared the end of a path, where a small fountain played. Sam stopped and turned to face Rose. The breeze had blown one of her curls across her cheek, and he reached up to tenderly brush it away.

“Rosie,” he started, but his voice caught. He cleared his throat and started again. “Rosie, I was going to wait until our wedding day, but what with this ball and all--well,” he reached into his jacket pocket and drew forth a small box. “The King, Strider, that is, King Elessar as they call him now, and Queen Arwen, they sent you a wedding gift.”

Her eyes grew wide. “A king and queen of Big Folk sent a gift for *me*?”

“Aye, Rosie, they did.” He smiled. “Open it.”

She took the lid from the box and gasped. Reaching in with nerveless fingers, she drew forth the fine silvery chain, glittering as only mithril could, to see the perfect golden rose that hung from it. The rose was the size of her thumbnail, each petal delicately made. Had it not been of gold, she would have thought it real. Tears of joy sprang to her eyes.

Sam took it, opened the clasp and fastened it gently around her neck.

She grabbed him around the neck and drew him down for a kiss. Pearl gave a discreet cough, and they sprang apart blushing.

“Mistress Pearl--I mean, Pearl! Come see what the King and Queen sent to me!”

Laughing and curious, Pearl made her way to them. She had heard about the royal wedding gift, but she had not seen it.

On the lawn at the top of the garden, Pervinca, Pimpernel and her husband Milo, Pippin and Bergil were playing on the grass with the babies. Pippin was swinging little Largo about, getting peals of laughter, while young Bergil was giving “ponyback” rides to little Flora and Alyssum. Flora, especially was taken with the boy, whom she had dubbed “Birdie” for some reason.

On a bench nearby, Legolas and Gimli were chatting amiably with Freddy and Frodo. Suddenly Freddy stiffened and looked annoyed. “Don’t look now, but here comes ‘the Jewelry’.”

Gimli and Legolas looked puzzled, and Frodo mildly alarmed. Pimpernel rose to her feet and made her way over to the bench as Amethyst, Garnet and Opal arrived there, giggling and ogling Legolas in a predatory fashion.

In a flat voice, Pimpernel introduced her cousins. She gave them a glare that, had it come from her mother, would have easily repressed them. Unfortunately, coming from her, it had less effect.

More or less ignoring Frodo, Freddy and Gimli, they bore down on the Elf.

“Master Legolas,” cooed Amethyst. “It is so nice to finally meet you.”

“You are certainly tall,” smiled Garnet.

“Are all Elves as beautiful as you?” asked Opal.

Legolas suddenly decided he preferred hobbit lasses to be tongue-tied. He drew around him his air of Elven majesty, that he mostly dispensed with when around his mortal friends, and wondered how he could extricate himself politely. He noticed that Frodo and Freddy looked terribly embarrassed, Pimpernel angry, and Gimli--of course--amused.

Just then Pearl came up, with Sam and Rose. They backed off a bit; Pearl was not as intimidating as her mother, but she ran a close second.

Frodo decided to answer Opal’s impertinent question. “I do not imagine that Legolas could answer that, Opal, but I can tell you from personal observation that, yes, indeed they are. It is, after all, why they are called the Fair Folk.”

Oh, well done, Frodo! thought Pearl. She decided to provide the one distraction that would work for these three.

“Have you seen the gift that the King and Queen sent to Miss Rose?”

Pervinca, Milo, Pippin and Bergil had joined the group now, and all looked admiringly at Rose’s necklace. She blushed to be the center of attention.

“That chain is of mithril, Miss Rose, and fair it looks on you, if I may say so,” said Gimli gallantly, earning a smile from Sam.

As Pearl had hoped, the sight of a valuable bauble drew their eyes away from the Elf. She smiled to herself to see the gleam of envy and avarice on their faces.

“Well, cousins,” she said pleasantly--too pleasantly-- “I am sorry, but Mother and Father are expecting us to supper in the family apartments with our guests, and Uncle Sara and Aunt Esme, so we shall have to cut this short.”

She herded everyone towards the Smials, leaving Hyacinth’s daughters staring after them in dismay.

_________________________________________

CHAPTER 36

It was still quite early when Eglantine awakened. She slipped out of bed, careful to not awaken Paladin, and drew on her dressing gown. For the next few days, she was going to have to make every minute count.

She washed and dressed quickly and quietly. Paladin stirred once and reached across the empty side of the bed for her. “Shh,” she told him. “Go back to sleep, dear, it’s early.” He mumbled something along the lines of “I’ll get up too,” and fell back to sleep.

She made her way to the main kitchen where the kitchen hobbits were already preparing first breakfast, and took a cup of tea. She’d no time for more now; she’d join the family for second breakfast when it came time.

Right now, she needed a word with Heather, the head cook.

“We will not be needing a full dinner for the Ball, Heather. What we will need is a side table with refreshments; a few savories, some sweets, but mostly things to drink. And not just ale or wine, I want some ciders and fruit juices available as well as tea. As for the foods, they should all be things which can be passed on trays to be eaten standing, and with the fingers, nothing that one would have to sit down with a fork to eat.”

“Yes, mum; some pastries and some sandwiches, and--”

“I will leave it to you to plan, keeping in mind what’s in store, but for this occasion, do not skimp, and if you have to purchase anything you have a free hand.”

Heather’s eyes went wide at this. Not a thing she’d *ever* heard the Mistress say before. Eglantine smiled.

“When you get the menu finalized, let me have a quick look at it. Remember the short time we have. If you need extra help, let me know that also, and I will draft a few hands to help out. There are plenty of useless cousins hanging about the Smials, after all.”

They both laughed at this, and Eglantine took her tea with her into the south garden.

She was surprised to see the Elf there. The Sun, after all, was barely peeking her way over the horizon. He did not turn around when he spoke.

“Good morning, Mistress Took, it looks to be a lovely day.”

“Yes, yes it does,” she said, startled. How had he known it was her? Uncanny. “You are up early?”

He did turn to face her then, and she looked up into his beautiful face. One of the Fair Folk, indeed. He was smiling, and it was like another sunrise. “Early? I suppose it may seem so to you. I am usually up to greet the Sun when she begins her journey. My people do not sleep so much as yours.” He laughed.

She blushed. “Pearl told me what happened yesterday. I apologize for the actions of my young cousins. I am afraid those three are rather spoilt by their mother, and tend to be a sore trial to everyone they meet. I will try to keep them from annoying you further.” She was more than a little angry with them, and she had plans to put them in their place a bit later in the day.

Legolas smiled. “It was just somewhat surprising, coming from hobbits. I am afraid that most hobbits are somewhat shy around me. But your daughters and Frodo handled the situation quite well.” He looked about him. “I am enjoying my journey here to the Shire very much. You have a beautiful land here, gentle and well-tended and well-loved. The trees here are happy, though not so wild as those of my home. I was very sad to see what Saruman had done to many of them.”

Eglantine considered. “I had never thought of it that way before. But then I know nothing of any other land besides the Shire, and I am afraid I am only a Banks by birth, with no Tookish blood to make me wish to wander. I am afraid most hobbits are very much homebodies.” She looked up at the tall Elf again in wonder, and for the first time realized what would be lost when all the Fair Folk had departed over the Sea.

“I am sorry to take my leave, Master Legolas, but I have many duties to attend to this morning.”

He gave her a nod and a smile in farewell, and placing a hand on the lowermost limb of the handsome beech that stood by him, vanished into its branches. She gaped for just a second, and then turned and walked down to where the encampment of Men was located.

As she had thought, they were all up and stirring already. They courteously rose and bowed to greet her, and offered to share their breakfast, not much by hobbit standards, but it was a nice porridge with dried fruit in it, and suddenly hungry, she accepted. She needed to speak with Targon anyway, she might as well eat a bit while she did so. One bowl of porridge would not spoil her appetite for second breakfast, anyway.

The Gondorian envoy sat next to her as they ate, and the other Men moved a bit to be out of earshot.

“Captain Targon, I am going to need to know every bit that I can of the titles that your King has bestowed on our Travellers. I’m sure that my husband has explained our strategy to you?”

“Yes, Mistress Took, I do understand. In the matter of impressing certain types of people, pheriannath, that is to say, hobbits, are not so different than Gondorians.” He smiled. This canny little matron had an excellent grip on the realities of politics. He would not be surprised to see her hold her own in the court at Minas Tirith.

“Very well, then, let us discuss precedence, and the matter of announcing our guests of honor.”

____________________________________________________________

She returned to the family apartment in plenty of time for second breakfast, and stopped by the bedroom to tidy her hair and wash her face and hands again after having been outdoors. Paladin had just finished dressing.

He bestowed a peck on her cheek. “Thank you for letting me sleep in, my dear.”

She smiled. “No need for you to be up that early today.”

Arm in arm, they made their way to the family’s private dining room. All the family were there except for the babies and Pimpernel, and all the guests save Legolas. She was fairly sure she knew why Pimmie had not come, and Milo confirmed it.

“I’m sorry to say, Mother Tina, that Pim’s feeling a bit delicate this morning.”

“That’s quite all right, son. It’s only to be expected at this stage. I’m sure that she will be up and about and feeling better by time for elevenses.”

Milo nodded. He’d been through this twice before, but it didn’t seem to make it any easier. Tanto looked over with sympathy. So far, all he and Vinca had produced was little Largo. They’d soon be hoping to increase their family as well. But it was a hard thing to watch one’s wife go through.

The family began to tuck in to the excellent breakfast fare, and Eglantine found that the porridge had not blunted her appetite at all. For some time the conversation, as was the hobbit way, revolved around the food in front of them. She noticed, though, that the lad Bergil was eating very sparingly. She remembered what Esmeralda had told her, though, about the lad’s first night in Brandy Hall, and refrained from telling him to eat up. If he had been a hobbit lad, she would be worried about the lack of appetite. Strange that creatures so much larger ate so little.

Just then one of the servants came in and whispered in her ear. “Oh my yes, show them in.”

The early guests were Longo and Dianthus Goodbody, Milo’s parents. “Mother! Father!” He rose to greet and embrace them, as did Eglantine.

“Dee!” she said to her old friend and cousin. “It’s so good to see you!”

“I thought that I would come to see if you needed any of my help with this Ball you are organizing, my dear, as well as to see my dear children and grandchildren. Where’s Pimmie?”

Milo blushed. Since the young couple had only found out a few days ago, they had not yet time to tell his parents. He did so now, and was rewarded with their thrilled congratulations.

“Well done, son!” said his father. “Maybe this time it will be a lad.” Unfortunately this remark won him the ire of all the females present in the room, and not much sympathy from any of the males. Paladin took pity on him. He’d finished with his breakfast anyway.

“Come along with me, Longo and Milo, we’re going over to the Men’s encampment to speak with the envoys.” This announcement resulted in the mass exodus of the males: Merry and Pippin needed to see their colleagues, Bergil had some duties to attend to there, Frodo and Saradoc wished to speak to the envoys as well, and Sam was going with Frodo. Tanto decided to go check on little Largo, and Gimli to go in search of the Elf. Fredegar decided to accompany Gimli.

Eglantine looked at the table and laughed. “Well, as long as it’s just we lasses, why don’t we get some of the planning out of the way.”

_________________________________________________________

Somewhat later, Eglantine went alone to her sitting room. Dianthus had gone to commiserate with her daughter-in-law, and she had sent Pervinca with Marigold and Rose to take the grand tour of the Great Smials. Pearl, Esmeralda, Primrose and Peridot all had various tasks to perform in relation to the Ball.

This particular task Eglantine had in mind was not necessarily pleasant, but it would be satisfying. The door opened, and in came Hyacinth, along with her daughters.

“Eglantine, I must protest this high-handed summons. I had an engagement with my seamstress this morning, and if we are to have our frocks ready in time for the Ball--”

“Hyacinth!” Eglantine’s tone was firm and peremptory. “This concerns something far more important than dresses.” She looked at the three sisters, who had sulky expressions on their faces. She wanted to slap them silly, but what she had in mind would be just as good. Locking her eyes on theirs, she pointed to a spot in front of her, and they lined up there. Their mother looked alarmed.

“Did your daughters tell you that they were disgracefully rude and impertinent to one of our guests yesterday?”

Hyacinth went pale and let out a small bleat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She rounded on her daughters. “What did you do?”

Amethyst twitched her lips and mumbled, “We just wanted to meet the Elf.”

“They did indeed meet him, and were importunate to him, embarrassing him and others.”

Just then there was a knock on the sitting room door. “Enter,” said Eglantine. The door opened and in came Heather, the head cook, and Appleblossom, the head of housekeeping.

“Mistress Heather,” said the Thain’s wife, “I am sending you an extra pair of hands to help out in the preparations for the ball. Amethyst, you will go with Mistress Heather to the kitchens, and you will do whatever she asks of you for the next three days. Is that clear?” She looked over at the cook. “Do not go easy on her just because she is Mr. Reginard’s daughter.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Mistress Appleblossom, you will have the assistance for the next three days of Garnet and Opal. I ask only that whatever tasks you find them, you keep them separated. Since Miss Opal was the most impertinent of the three, I strongly suggest that at least part of her duties involve cleaning the privies.”

She looked at the shocked faces of her young cousins. “If you give no troubles to Mistress Heather and Mistress Appleblossom, then you shall be released from your punishment in plenty of time to prepare for the Ball, and you shall be allowed to attend. Now go!”

After they had filed out, much chastened, behind the cook and housekeeper, Eglantine turned her attention to their mother. “Hyacinth, I am sorry I had to take this step of disciplining your daughters for you. But I will not allow the hospitality of the Thain’s home to be sullied by rudeness. After this, I suggest you keep better track of your lasses. And you might begin to search for husbands for them. Husbands who do not live in the Smials, or indeed Tuckborough, would be preferable. Good day!”

Watching Hyacinth’s miserable and furious face as she left, Eglantine felt sorry for Reginard. Poor Reggie was going to catch the brunt of his wife’s ill temper later in the day.

____________________________________________________

She spent the next few hours wandering about the Great Smials supervising various tasks that were being carried out by her kin and staff. When she went to check on the ballroom, she noticed with satisfaction that one of the figures helping to wax the vast floor was Garnet.

She took a very brief luncheon, and then went to find Esme and Dee. She thought a break and a visit with friends was in order. The three were in the sitting room sipping tea and laughing over how she had dealt with “the Jewelry”. Dianthus was a touch scandalized. “My word, Tina. I wouldn’t have the nerve. After all, Reggie is second in line after Pippin to be Thain.”

“It makes no difference. If my own daughters forgot themselves enough to behave so disgracefully, I would have done the same for them.”

Just then, they were interrupted by the arrival of Merry and Pippin, who had come in search of their mothers. Dianthus had not seen the lads since their return, and of course had to comment on how much they had grown. Pippin enfolded her in a hug. “It’s good to see you Aunt Dee! Have you heard about Pimmie?”

“Oh, yes, indeed I have.”

Merry and Pippin sat on the floor, by their mothers’ feet, and proceeded to regale Dianthus with a few humorous anecdotes from their travels. She listened in amazement, not sure of how much to believe, of this talk of walking trees and kings and great cities. But the occasional shadow she saw flick through their eyes made her realize that the only thing she had to disbelieve was that it was all as much fun as they were trying to make it sound. The troubled looks on their mothers’ faces confirmed this for her.

Eglantine was enjoying this respite, but she was starting to think it was time to go tend to her duties once more when there was another knock on the door, and in came her brother Clodio, unannounced. Of course, she had known she’d have to see him at some time over the next few days, since he was head of the Banks families, but she would have preferred to postpone the dubious pleasure as long as possible. Her guests, sensing her tension, made as if to leave, but she stayed them. She looked at Merry and Pippin. Merry’s eyes were dangerously stormy; good. Pippin, however, was looking distressed. Not good.

“Brother.” She spoke formally. She did not invite him to take a seat.

“Sister.” He moved to sit anyway. He cleared his throat. “I think it is time we put this unpleasantness behind us.”

Merry made a noise that sounded much like a growl. Esmeralda squeezed his shoulder, and he subsided. Eglantine felt like growling herself.

“Unpleasantness? Is that what you call it when your sons nearly killed mine?”

“Egg--”

She winced. Didn’t he know how she hated that nickname?

“--the incident in question was nearly ten years ago. They were all young lads at the time, and did not realize the harm they could cause. I would like them to apologize, and be welcome once more in your home.”

Her eyes narrowed. What was he up to? He could have bent his neck any time in the last ten years if he really cared to. Why now?

Pippin looked up at her, distress in his wide green eyes. “Mother, you know, I was just as much to blame. I should never have listened in the first place; it’s not like I didn’t know what the word ‘No’ meant. Really, it’s not good for kin to be on the outs.”

Merry started to say something, but Esmeralda pinched his ear, and he rubbed it resentfully. His mother didn’t understand. She had not been here to see Pippin: retching, unconscious, blue in the face, cold hands, slow heart--the memory was as fresh for him as the memory of Uruk-hai, or of Gandalf riding away to Minas Tirith with Pippin before him. Until they had gone on the Quest, it was the worst memory of his life. How could Pip talk about forgiving them? And he didn’t like the expression on Banks’ face. That one was up to something, and it wasn’t just reconciliation. He could see Aunt Tina felt the same. But he saw the pleading look on Pip’s face, and he knew she’d cave. So would he if those green eyes turned on him.

“Very well, brother, your sons will be allowed under this roof again. I do expect an apology. I will see you and them tomorrow.”

Clodio realized he was not going to get much more out of her at this point, and took his leave. He was heartened to notice that his nephew seemed more forgiving. If he could talk to him without the Brandybuck brat around he might be able to learn something. But that would keep. He’d see about that tomorrow.

_______________________________________________

They had invited the Men from the encampment to come up for tea that afternoon, which they would take in the west garden. She had only just been introduced to them so far, Targon was the only one she had talked with much. She especially wanted to talk to the brothers whom Pippin had saved from the troll. She had heard Paladin’s and Pearl’s account of it; but she wanted to hear first hand. And she had not talked at all with the Men from Rohan. She was interested in them as well.

The tea was a pleasant affair, and all the guests were having a lovely time. Eglantine was amused to note that one of the lasses serving happened to be Amethyst. The lass had not schooled her features very well, and she was favoring everyone with fierce scowls.

After a while, she was able to draw Adrahil and Artamir aside for a brief account of Pippin saving their lives. Artamir did not have much to contribute, since he had been unconscious, but Adrahil’s account was much as he had told Paladin. Unlike her husband, Eglantine was not in the least surprised at her son’s courage or willingness to sacrifice himself. She had always known what a great heart her lad had.

When tea had ended, most of the guests and inhabitants of the Smials wandered back down to the encampment with the Men, for more conversation, smoking, and probably singing. But Eglantine still had a few tasks to see to before supper. She caught Pippin before he headed down.

“Son, tomorrow I’d like you to see about engaging the musicians for the Ball if you would?”

His face lit up in a grin. “Of course, Mother. I’d love to do that for you!”

“Thank you, son.” That was a big relief. Pippin was musical, and he knew who the good musicians were in Tuckborough; it would be a fairly simple task for him. He really was quite grown-up; her heart swelled with pride.

__________________________________________________

Supper had been a quiet family affair. Most of the guests had remained to sup with the Men, and it had been only Paladin, Eglantine, Saradoc, Esmeralda and Pearl around the table in the Thain’s apartment. After the meal had ended, Eglantine found herself quite ready to retire early.

She went on to bed, still hearing the murmurs of her husband and brother-in-law talking in the sitting room. She had accomplished a lot. Three more days until the Ball.

CHAPTER 37

The following two days went much as had the day before, in a blur of activity meant to prepare for the Ball and for the assembly. Eglantine was as busy as she had ever been since the day Paladin became Thain, which meant all her kinswomen were equally busy. Unless she had already tapped them for a specific task the males kept out of her way.

____________________________________________________

Rosie and Sam had found a number of occasions to go walking in the gardens together, usually trailed by Pearl or Marigold; they discussed the wedding.

“Rosie, I think I have decided to ask Mr. Frodo to conduct the ceremony; he can do it, being as he’s acting as Mayor. I’d like him to stand up with me, too, but he can’t be in two places at once. I thought if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask Mr. Merry to stand up with me?”

“Sam, I think it would be splendid. And I’d like Mr. Frodo to marry us. He is kind of a very special hobbit, isn’t he? And if he marries us, then he’ll be blessing the both of us, if you know what I mean?”

Seeing as it was Marigold following them instead of Miss Pearl, Sam risked giving Rosie a brief hug. “I do know what you mean, my lass. Mr. Frodo is kind of a blessing all on his own.” He laughed. “Well, I’ll ask him then, and Mr. Merry, as soon as may be.”

Rosie hesitated, and then blushed. “Do you think maybe Mr. Pippin might sing a song for us?”

Sam laughed again. “Mr. Pippin? He’d take any excuse he could get to sing a song! But mind you, it had better be a fitting one, and not one of them he got up to in the taverns in the city.”

As the couple turned to go back to the Smials, Sam noticed a slight change in Rosie’s mood.

“Something troubling you, Rosie-lass?”

“Not troubling me, Sam,” she said, “more of a puzzlement, as you might say.” She touched the necklace, which had not left her since Sam put it on her. “The pretty box my necklace came in is lost, and I can’t think what I did with it.”

“Hmm,” said Sam, pursing his mouth, not happy at the turn his mind was taking. “Do you want I should tell Mr. Pippin?”

“Oh, no, please, Sam! If I find it after all, I’d feel like such a ninnyhammer!”

“Rose Cotton! Don’t you never, ever use that word to name yourself!”

Rose was startled. She’d never heard her Sam use that voice to her before. “Why Sam, your Gaffer says it all the time.”

He took her gently by the shoulders. “Rose, you are *not* a ninnyhammer. If you think it’s all right to say that about yourself because of my Gaffer, I may have to have some hard words for him.”

“Please don’t, Sam. I won’t say it again. And please don’t say nothing to Mr. Pippin about the box.”

Sam shook his head. “I won’t say nothing right now. But if you don’t find it by tomorrow I will. I don’t like the sound of this.”

Rose nodded. “All right, Sam.” Suddenly she realized what he was getting at, that it might not just be lost. That was frightening.
_______________________________________________

Opal gave a little shriek of frustration, and then guiltily shot her hand over her mouth. She flung down the little box on her bed, and flopped down by it herself. When she had been sent into the guest room with clean towels, she could not resist grabbing the box which she just *knew* contained that beautiful necklace--a necklace that was far too good for some jumped-up farmer’s daughter. It was a beautiful box, made of some kind of dark wood, with a seven pointed star of a lighter wood inlaid on the lid. But it was empty. The little wench must be wearing it all the time, more’s the pity.

“Opal! Opal!” She heard her sisters calling her name. Quickly she grabbed the box and hid it in the drawer where she kept her handkerchiefs.

________________________________________________

Pippin and Bergil were walking back towards the Smials from Tuckborough. Pippin had gone to town on his mother’s errand, and had engaged two very good bands for the Ball. She had told him not to worry about expense, and with two bands, they could spell one another. He had also given them the list his mother had made of some of the dances that she wished to be played, so that they could rehearse.

As they walked along, many of the hobbits who passed called out greetings to the Thain’s son, and bobbed their heads, giving curious looks to his tall, but obviously child-like, companion. Each time it happened, Bergil flushed. Pippin chuckled.

“It’s not funny, Pippin,” the lad said crossly.

“That’s not why I’m laughing, lad, I’m remembering.”

“What?”

“Well, now you know how I felt walking with you through Minas Tirith while everybody bowed to me and called me Ernil i Pheriannath.”

Bergil laughed now, too. “I never thought of that.”

“Well, I was the curiosity then, and you are the curiosity now. I would say turn about is fair, wouldn’t you.”

Just then they were accosted by two well-dressed gentlehobbits. “Peregrin,” said one, “may we have a word with you?”

“Certainly. Mr. Bracegirdle, Mr. Grubb. May I introduce my good friend Bergil son of Beregond, of Minas Tirith in Gondor? Bergil, these are friends of my father, Mr. Bracegirdle of Hardbottle, and Mr. Grubb of Pincup.”

Bergil gave them a polite bow. “Bergil son of Beregond at your service, sirs.”

They bowed back and repeated the formula. Dago Bracegirdle was none too happy to be exchanging pleasantries with an obvious child, but it wouldn’t do to upset the Thain’s son.

“Peregrin,” he started, “we understand that some of the assembly have already met with the Men. Is this entirely fair?”

“Mr. Bracegirdle, any who would care to are welcome to come and visit the encampment and speak with the envoys. My father, uncle and cousin are keeping nothing secret to do with King Elessar’s agreement. Please feel free to walk back with us, and I will be glad to introduce you to them.”

“I believe we will take you up on that, Peregrin.”

Bergil ducked his head to hide his disappointment. He and Pippin were doing just fine, and now these grown-ups had to come along. But he schooled his face. He was a representative of the King as well, and he knew his duty. He just didn’t have to like it.

__________________________________________________

“Mr. Freddy?”

“Yes, Sam?”

“I was wondering could you do me a mighty favor, to do with that Ball tomorrow night?”

“Certainly, if I possibly can.”

“Well, you see, I have to go in and be announced and everything, and Rosie, being my intended, she’ll be announced with me. But I’m wondering about Marigold. I can’t ask Mr. Frodo or Mr. Pippin or Mr. Merry, because they all have to be announced too. And with Marigold being betrothed and all, she needs to have someone as I can trust--”

“Oh Sam, I’d be delighted to look after your sister for you.”

“Well, thank you then.” Sam grinned. “But don’t go liking it too much, or Tom Cotton will have both our heads.”

Freddy laughed. “Well, that would never do, would it, Sam? Consider me warned!”

__________________________________________________

Legolas and Gimli had taken Arod, and gone for a ride to get away from all of the hectic preparations. They had ridden down the Green Hills and all the way to Woody End before turning back.

Gimli had not much to say. Legolas was in one of those moods brought on by the sea-longing. A brisk gallop back would help. Gimli set himself to concentrating on staying on the horse, and hoped his friend would be back to his usual self by the time they returned to their hosts.

__________________________________________________

Merry was at the Men’s encampment when the Bolger carriage rolled up. He greeted Odovocar and his family politely as they exited. “Hullo, Odovocar, Mistress Rosamunda, Estella.” He looked however, only at Estella. He hoped the grin he wore did not look too silly. She seemed pleased enough to see him.

“Good day, Meriadoc. We were hoping to see Fredegar.”

“The last I saw him he was with Sam in the south garden.” He didn’t miss the look of disapproval on Rosamunda’s face when she heard that. The idea of her Fredegar socializing with a gardener would not sit well with her.

Estella’s parents strolled in the direction of the south garden. She allowed them to get out of easy ear shot before she followed, escorted as she had hoped, by Merry.

“I’m sorry I missed you the other day. I had gone out shopping with a friend.”

“So am I. I had hoped to see you then. But I’m glad I’m seeing you now.” He hesitated. “Estella, I--” He broke off, not sure if he should say what was on his mind yet.

“What is it, Merry?”

“I’m sorry. I just wish we were already betrothed.” He suddenly blushed. He had not meant to blurt it out like that. She looked at him in surprise; she knew that was probably where their friendship was heading, but it was the first time the word had been spoken between them. She didn’t know what to say.

“It’s just, well, at the Ball, if we were betrothed, you could enter on my arm, like Rosie will with Sam--I wish that you could,” he finished a bit wistfully.

She stopped walking for a second, and looked up at him seriously. “Do you think that we will become betrothed?”

“I hope to, Estella. But it is still too soon.” He blushed. “I mean, my nights are too difficult sometimes; I don’t think I’m ready to share them with you.”

She had an idea of what he meant. She had heard her brother’s nightmares, and he had not faced nearly the horrors that the Travellers had.

Her mother had turned and looked back. They started to walk again. “It is all right, Merry. I can wait, knowing how you feel. And at the Ball, we can have many dances.”

“That’s a promise,” Merry said firmly. He laughed. She felt the same as he; all was right with the world.

_____________________________________________________

Clodio Banks and his sons were having drinks in the common room of The Leaping Hare when Dago Bracegirdle suddenly joined them, without so much as a by-your-leave.

“Banks, we’ve got a problem.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve just come from seeing those Men, and talking with them about the King’s agreement. He wants an accounting of all Lotho’s dealings with Sharkey, and the Took and young Baggins are going to be looking into it.”

Clodio went pale. “Well, we will have to see what we can do to keep it from being ratified, otherwise we will be in the soup.” He looked at his sons. “It’s time we headed to the Great Smials. You lads have an apology to make. And you had better make it good.”

___________________________________________________

Clodio, Clovis and Cado were ushered into the Thain’s study, where he stood with his wife and son. Paladin had never liked his brother-in-law, and the estrangement had been no hardship to him; but if Eglantine wished to end it, he would support her.

Clodio gave Clovis a little jab. The older son cleared his throat. “Erm--we uh, we’d like to apologize for what happened. We were young and foolish, but we should have known better than to egg you on like that Pippin.”

Pippin gave his trademark sunny smile. “I should have known better than to listen; at least it was a lesson I took to heart.” And this was true; he still liked his ale, but he had never again taken his drinking to that kind of dangerous level. He held out his hand, and they shook. But Eglantine’s expression remained blank.

Clodio remained in the study as his sons left. They breathed a sigh of relief as they shut the door behind them, and then jumped as they turned to see Merry, leaning against the wall across the passageway with a grim and frosty smile on his face.

“Remember me?” They both went pale, and Cado gave a squeak.

“Pippin has a very forgiving nature. I don’t. And I don’t trust you as far as I could throw you. Don’t give me a reason to do what I told you I would, understand?”

Now Clovis squeaked, and they both nodded their heads.

“Good.” Merry turned and walked off.

________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 38

In the year of Shire Reckoning 1230, Gerontius Took, who later became the famous “Old Took”, married Adamanta Chubb, a well-known beauty of the East Farthing, a very lively lass and fond of dancing. In 1232, to celebrate the birth of their first son Isengrim III, he built her a ballroom, the first and only one of its kind in the Shire.

To build the room, he had the entire southwest wing of the Great Smials gutted. It was a splendid place, easily large enough for up to four hundred dancing hobbits, with ceilings nearly twenty feet high. A long shallow staircase led down into the room from its entrance on the eastern side of the space. There was a covered overhang between the southwest wing and the southeast wing, from which entry could be made without going through the Smials. On the south wall of the room was a set of four large double doors that could be entirely removed, which led out to a terraced slope and down to the south garden. A door on the east side led into a separate kitchen. On the west side was a small dais for the musicians to play from, and another small door led into a short passageway. On the left was a room where the musicians could take their ease between sets. On the right were two water closets.

Although it was called a ballroom, it had rarely been used for balls after Adamanta’s time. But it was not unused. Both Pearl and Pimpernel had held their weddings there, ( though not Pervinca, for she and Tanto had wed during the Troubles ) and every year at least one of the Yule parties was held there. And when nasty weather kept hobbits indoors for days at a time the space was often used to let the children play and run off excess energy.

But it was still a ballroom.

On the morning of the Ball, Eglantine stood on the landing of the staircase and looked out across the huge room. The hardwood floor shone like glass, and the windows gleamed. The half-paneling smelled of polish. Even though it was barely past first breakfast, it was a hive of activity. Hobbits were setting up the sideboards for food and drink; they were putting new tapers in the sconces and in the great chandelier, which had been lowered on its chain; they were busily removing the doors between the ballroom and the terrace. Everything that needed doing was being done. She took a deep breath of satisfaction and relief.

She wondered how Reggie was getting on with his task.

___________________________________________

In the captains’ tent, Reginard, Paladin, Saradoc, and Legolas sat about the low table with Targon and Éothain, looking over the scrolls of introduction that had been prepared. Bergil served them with ale, and then moved away, to be available if they needed anything else.

Reggie shook his head. “I just hope that I can do justice to these introductions. This Elvish--”

“You are doing quite well with your pronunciation, Master Reginard; I do not doubt that the hobbits will be most impressed. And if you make any slight errors, there are none save Frodo and myself to notice.” Legolas was reassuring.

“Shouldn’t Frodo be here as well?”

Saradoc shook his head. “Frodo is going to find this hard enough to deal with tonight; he doesn’t need the added pressure of worrying about it all day long.”

Legolas sighed. “He will be doing that anyway, but no, he would not be comfortable watching us compose this in his honor.”

Targon looked at the Elf. “I do not understand the Ringbearer.”

“Let us just say that he does not appreciate himself as much as he ought.” There was a bit of a warning note in Legolas’ voice that perhaps the subject should be dropped.

“Now, Reggie,” said Paladin, “Bergil will hand you each scroll as the guests enter. You don’t have to memorize them at all, but make certain that you are familiar enough with them so that you will not have to hesitate.”

“I understand that, Paladin.” He looked at Targon again. “You say there are people in Gondor who actually have this as a full time job?”

The Gondorian envoy looked amused. The hobbit way of looking at things. “Heralds, yes.”

Saradoc had been quiet, thinking. “You know, we need a little something to start this off, something to get everyone’s attention. Hobbits are not used to simply dropping their conversations like that.”

Targon pursed his lips, “A fanfare of some sort? But we don’t really have a trumpeter.”

Éothain looked over at Bergil, who was softly humming as he tidied the captains’ sleeping cots. “Bergil?”

“Yes sir?”

“You were at Cormallen, for the feast honoring the Ringbearers, were you not?”

“Yes I was.” The lad’s eyes shone. The memory of that grand day was one of the highlights of his young life.

“Do you remember the song of praise for the Ringbearers?”

Targon grinned, and looked approvingly at the horse-lord. “Let us hear it then.”

Shrugging, Bergil piped up in a sweet clear boyish treble:

Long live the halflings! Praise them with great praise!

Cuio i Pherian anann! Aglar’ni Pheriannath!

Praise them with great praise, Frodo and Samwise!

Daur a Berhael--*

Targon interrupted. “Very good, Bergil. Do you think you can do that in front of a crowd, for the sake of our Ringbearers?”

And all around the table, the plotters grinned at one another.

____________________________________________________

Sam knocked on the door to Rose’s and Marigold’s room. When Rose answered it, he did not even have to ask; the trouble was writ plain on her face.

“I’m going to have to tell Mr. Pippin, Rosie, unless you’d rather tell his mother yourself?”

“Oh no, Sam! Please, I never could, not after she’s been so nice and all!”

He put a little kiss on top of her head. “It has to be, Rosie-love, for this is serious.”

In general, “pilfering” was regarded rather lightly among hobbits. The raiding of gardens or larders by lads ( and the occasional bold lass ) in their teens and tweens was conceded a normal, if annoying, pastime. The lifting of some useless mathom or other as a prank among friends was more or less tolerated. And when elderly hobbits sometimes helped themselves to shiny objects from their relatives’ homes, heads were shaken, but not much more.

But “theft” was another matter altogether. To deliberately take a valuable item from someone with the intent of keeping it or selling it was a crime punishable by law, and the name of “Thief” was one of the most despised. And to take something from a guest under the Thain’s roof was unimaginable.

Rose nodded sadly, and Sam went off to find Pippin.

After a deal of time spent wandering about the Smials and asking after him, Sam finally found Pippin giving instructions to the musicians in the ballroom. His friend soon spotted him and walked over to his side.

“Sam, you’re looking mighty serious this morning. You didn’t have a tiff with Rosie, did you?” Not that Pippin could easily imagine such a thing.

“Never!” Sam shook his head vehemently. “but it is about Rosie, more or less. You know the box her necklace from Strider and the Queen came in? It’s disappeared from her room. She noticed it gone yesterday; she and Mari have searched high and low. It’s not in there.”

Pippin blanched. There was a grim note in his voice. “Let’s go find Mother.”

_________________________________________________

Eglantine had been so pleased that all was going well. She should have known something would go wrong. She led Sam and Pippin to her sitting room. “Pippin dear, would you please fetch Mistress Appleblossom.”

As her son went out to do her bidding, she turned to Sam. “Samwise, I am so sorry that this happened. I had hoped that your intended would have a pleasant time here with us.”

“Oh Mistress Took, she has! I know what made her sad the most was how you’d take it, seeing as you have been so kind to her and Mari. She would not have said anything if I had not made her.”

“I am glad that you did, Sam. We cannot allow such goings on here.”

Pippin came back in with the housekeeper.

“Mistress Appleblossom, could you please tell me which of your lasses has been in the room used by Miss Rose and Miss Marigold?”

“Well, Daffodil has those rooms, and this week she’s also been training the new lass, Moss Heathertoes, so them two. Oh, and Miss Opal, Mr. Reggie’s daughter you wanted me to keep busy for a few days, she took the clean linens in yesterday.”

“Where is Opal now?”

Appleblossom thought for a moment. “I believe she is emptying the chamber pots.”

“Bring her to me please. And ask someone to fetch her mother for me.”

Pippin watched his mother in amazement. He had never seen this hard side of her before, and was glad that it was not directed at him.

Sam stood by, looking as miserable as he felt. He wished he were anywhere--up to and including the Black Land--than here, bringing trouble to his friend’s family.

Pippin reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Sam.”

Eglantine turned to look back at them, and her grim face softened. “Indeed not, Sam. I am glad you brought this to my attention. I do not like having a serpent in my nest.”

Just then the door opened and Opal entered, escorted by Mistress Appleblossom.

When the housekeeper had come to fetch her away from her disgusting task, she had at first thought that Cousin Eglantine was ready to let her out of her punishment. But one look at Eglantine’s grim face and the sight of Frodo’s gardener in the room, and she knew her impulsive act the day before had risen to haunt her. The blood drained from her face and her knees started to buckle.

“Oh no you don’t!” snapped Eglantine. “Hold her up, Mistress Appleblossom. She’ll not gain any sympathy by fainting.”

At that point, Hyacinth entered the room. “What is the meaning of this--this outrage?”

“Well you should ask, Hyacinth. Peregrin and Mistress Appleblossom will go with you to your apartments, and you will watch while they search Opal’s room, and bring what they find here.”

It was a little over fifteen minutes later when they returned, the box in Pippin’s hand, and Hyacinth weeping copiously. Pippin handed the box to his mother.

Opal stared at it in horror, and shrieked hysterically “It’s only a box! It was empty! The necklace wasn’t in it!”

Her mother glared at her. “You stupid little--”

“Silence!” Eglantine stared them down. “Peregrin, please go fetch your father.” She turned to Sam. “Samwise, please accept our deepest apologies. You may let Rose know the box is found, and will be returned to her tomorrow.”

Pippin and Sam left the room, and Sam drew a deep breath. “Whew! Mr. Pippin, your mother is something else, if you don’t mind me saying it.”

“Yes, isn’t she?” he returned proudly. “Sam, I’m so sorry this happened.”

“Well, like you said to me, ‘it’s not your fault’.”

______________________________________________________

Paladin paced back and forth across the sitting room floor. Eglantine sat in her chair by the fireplace, and Pippin stood behind her. Opal sat in another chair weeping, and Hyacinth sat stony faced and watched the Thain.

Pippin broke the silence. “This will kill Uncle Reggie.”

“I hope not,” said Paladin. “But we cannot afford to have him upset tonight, of all nights. Too much depends on him.” He pursed his lips in thought, then turned to Hyacinth.

“Hyacinth, you will take Opal and you will lock her in her room. She may have bread and water for supper. You and your other daughters will attend the Ball as though nothing is wrong. You will not let on to Reginard in any way that something is amiss, or you will heartily regret it. Tomorrow is time enough to decide her fate.” He turned to Opal. “You, lass, are lucky that you are only twenty-nine. If you were of age, there is nothing that would stop me from marking you as a thief and banishing you from the Smials. It may come to that yet, for your abuse of my guest.” He thought a minute more. “Not only that, but the item you stole was a gift from our King. It is possible that the King’s Men might also wish to have a say in your punishment. The fact that you were attempting to steal something even *more* valuable than the box does not help you.”

He turned back to Hyacinth and looked her dead in the eye. “Remember, not a word to your husband. You have made his life miserable long enough, and I may yet take steps to remedy that, as well. Now take her away.”

He looked at Eglantine. “My dear, we have a ball in less than three hours. I think we should begin to get ready.”

_______________________________________________________

Clovis and Cado Banks were getting themselves ready for the Ball in their room at the inn.

Cado asked “Just how much trouble will Father be in?”

“More than enough.” He stopped. “Maybe we could do something to help him out. We could slip away from the Ball for a little while tonight.”

_______________________________________________________

* From The Return of the King, Book 6, Chapter 4 “The Field of Cormallen”

CHAPTER 39

Sam looked at the finery laid out upon the bed; his fancy clothes from Minas Tirith, that he had not worn since coming home. And after tonight, he’d wear them only for his wedding day. He ran a hand over the rich wine-colored velvet coat, and thought he would trade it in a heartbeat for the sturdy brown wool jacket he had left behind in Mordor, that Mr. Frodo had given him before they left the Shire. Tears stung his eyes, and he blinked. No time for that kind of nonsense now.

There came a knock on the door, and he went to open it. There stood Mr. Frodo. He was clad in his own finery, dark grey velvet coat and breeches, the silk collar and cuffs of his shirt white as the blooms of the White Tree, his Lórien cloak over his arm. Sam thought his master looked like a small Elven Prince, except for his dark curls. Sam had never seen an Elf with curls.

“Hullo, Sam, I wondered if you needed any help getting ready?”

“No, Mr. Frodo, I was just making a start. It’s good to see you looking so well.”

Frodo knew that Sam meant “it was good to see him, period.” He had been rather keeping to himself for the last few days. He had agreed to this, but it wasn’t easy. He kept reminding himself of Saradoc’s words. They deserved to show their gratitude. This would help Aragorn. This would help Sam and Rosie. He looked at Sam’s expectant face, and said “Thank you, Sam. And I am feeling quite myself this evening,” almost true, that; close enough to true for Sam to be fooled, “and I am looking forward to seeing you and Rosie in your finery.” This was absolutely true.

“I’m really nervous, Mr. Frodo.”

“I know, Sam. But we went through this before, in Gondor, and more than once. Think of it as practice for the wedding.” And Frodo’s eyes sparked in amusement at the change of expression on Sam’s face as he thought of the wedding. “By the way, thank you for asking me to officiate. You know, you surprised me, as I thought you were going to ask me to stand up with you.”

“Well, so I thought of that, Mr. Frodo, but I couldn’t have you doing both, could I? It was hard to decide.”

Frodo chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

“Mr. Frodo, that wouldn’t be--” Frodo raised an eyebrow, and Sam stopped. “necessary.”

Frodo laughed. “Just get through tonight, Sam. You can go back to saying it tomorrow.” Really, he should challenge Sam more often. Watching him evade Merry and Pippin and their verbal traps all week had been most amusing.

______________________________________________________

Bergil had helped Pippin into his livery and armor. Now Pippin was helping him.

“Do you think I will do all right, Pippin?” Bergil was beginning to feel more than a little nervous about singing in front of all those hobbits.

“You will do fine, Bergil. I have heard you sing before, and in the court of the King yet. Do not let a bunch of hobbits intimidate you.” He turned the lad around, brushed off the back of the black silk surcoat, and gave a little tug to straighten it. He turned him back around and looked up into the serious grey eyes. “I am very proud of you Bergil. I wish your father could see you now--he would be very impressed.”

Bergil grinned at the praise. “Thank you, Sir Pippin.”

Pippin laughed. He loved the way Bergil mixed his title with his nickname. No one else called him “Sir Pippin”. “All right, off with you lad, to find my cousin Reggie. He’s going to need your help.”

______________________________________________________

Really, thought Reggie, this Ball was having the oddest effect on his wife. She had been uncharacteristically quiet and uncomplaining all evening.

But he was sure it was not so much the Ball as it was the way Eglantine had come down on their daughters for their rudeness to Legolas. Hyacinth had never thought the Thain’s wife would take action. She had always underestimated Eglantine.

Once he had loved her, before he found out her true nature. He remembered to the minute when his love had died: it was right after Peregrin was born. The joy the Tooks had all felt over Paladin at last having a male child was overshadowed by the babe’s being born too soon.

“He may yet die,” she had said, her voice and her eyes cold as winter. And he knew in that instant that she had never loved him, but had wed him in hopes of one day being the Thain’s lady. She was expecting Opal at the time, but from that day forward, he had found her repulsive, and he had never touched her as her husband again.

She never understood what had turned him away from her, but became shrewish and bitter instead; he had tried to love his daughters in spite of her, but they had picked up her attitude, and had no respect for him at all.

He smiled to himself at one secret she had never known. When Pippin was gone, and Paladin had declared him dead, Hyacinth had been gleeful. Reggie knew then that if he ever became Thain, she would be a totally unsuitable wife. He had gone to Paladin, and made him promise to overlook him and make his brother Everard his heir instead. Paladin had done so, but when Peregrin returned, they were both relieved.

And now all was working out for the best: Pippin and Merry had returned, matured and wise after their journey, and looking to be someday the best Master and Thain the Shire had ever seen.

_____________________________________________

Merry pulled down the sleeves of his undertunic and brushed down the front of his surcoat; the rich green velvet set off the device of the running horse. He took up the embroidered gloves and pulled them on, and then looked at his helm. No, this was a Ball, no need for sword or helm. There would be different weapons altogether unsheathed tonight: malicious tongues and unbridled ambition.

Still, he was quite looking forward to this. Dances with Estella. *Many* dances with Estella. She had said. He grinned.

He took up his Elven cloak and brooch. Legolas had seemed to feel it important that all of the Walkers wear their cloaks when they made their entrance, though of course they would have to doff them before any dancing. And being a prince, Legolas was aware of all the subtle advantages of symbols.

Time to find his cousins, and get the show started.

__________________________________________________

Legolas knocked on Gimli’s door. “Are you ready yet, Gimli?”

The Dwarf flung open the door. “Aye, laddie. Ready to get this nonsense done and over.”

Gimli was resplendent in an outfit of deep brown wool, no armor tonight, but he wore a collar of intricately linked mail, and had his cloak over his arm. The crystal with the Lady’s gift hung from a chain of mithril around his neck.

“You look very nice,” said Legolas truthfully.

“And you look very pretty,” said Gimli wryly.

Legolas was clad in formal Elven robes of leaf-green, embroidered in silver patterns of oak leaves. He already had his cloak on, flung back from his shoulders. He had drawn about him his royal air, and seemed indeed the very prince of Elves that he was.

“You will certainly strike any number of hobbit lasses dumb tonight.”

“I hope so.” Legolas shuddered, remembering Pippin’s repulsive cousins. Thank goodness his mother and sisters were sensible sorts.

_____________________________________________________

Pearl helped Marigold adjust her sash and arrange her curls, and then tied a velvet ribbon that matched the sash about her neck.

“You look lovely, my dear!” she gestured towards the looking glass.

Sam’s sister widened her eyes in surprise at the sight of her reflection. She wore a gown of butter yellow, with short puffy sleeves and a high waist. The sash was of a deep golden brown color, and finished at the back in a great bow. The neckline was scooped out a little deeper than Mari thought was exactly proper, but it was edged with creamy lace, as was the hem of the dress. “Oh my!” she blushed becomingly to see herself so.

Rosie laughed; “Oh, if Tom could only see you! He’s going to be so jealous when I tell him how beautiful you were tonight!”

“Well, he will see it, won’t he?” said Marigold. For Pimpernel had insisted that the lasses must keep their Ball dresses, and she and Rosie had decided they would make perfect wedding gowns.

“Now for Rose.” Pearl took down the dress they had chosen for Rose, and lifted it over her head. Rosie’s dress was a pale pink, of a very similar style to the one Marigold wore, save it had no lace at the neckline. The sash was new, of a deep wine colored velvet, for Pearl had pried Frodo loose long enough to find out what color Sam would be wearing. Around her neck Rose wore the Royal gift. She looked in the mirror, and blushed to see it set off by such a wide expanse of bosom.

Pearl laughed. “Really, Rose, this is quite modest for a ball gown. Many of the lasses will be showing far more bosom than you two.” Pearl’s own gown was more suitable for her status as a widow; of dove-grey, and she wore a silk scarf tucked into the neck, and a short-waisted long-sleeved jacket

Just then there was a knock at the door. Pearl cracked it open enough to peek out. “Ah, Cousin Fredegar! Marigold, your escort is here!”

For Freddy was to take Marigold in with the rest of the regular guests, as she was not being announced. Pearl opened the door, and Freddy’s eyes widened. “Miss Marigold! It’s a good thing that your brother already warned me off, for I would otherwise be sorely tempted to try and steal you away from your betrothed.” But his smile was friendly as he said it.

“Well, thank you for the compliment, Mr. Freddy, but I don’t think Tom would give in so easily.”

“I know that very well, Miss Marigold. Tom and Jolly were two of my stoutest lads in the Troubles. I should not dare to get on his bad side.” He offered his arm. “Shall we go? They are already beginning to gather in the ballroom.”

She turned and gave Rose a brief hug. “Bye, Rosie. I’ll see you in a little while.” She smiled at Pearl. “Thank you, Mistress Pearl.”

“Not at all, dear. Go have a lovely time.” And Marigold went out.

“Now, Rose, let’s see about arranging those pretty curls of yours. I have a bit of ribbon here--”

Only a few moments later came another knock on the door. Again, Pearl cracked the door, and this time it was Frodo and Sam. She opened it wider to reveal Rosie standing there as beautiful as the flower for which she was named.

Sam took one look, and said “Oh.” The two of them stood there and fairly glowed at one another. Sam had tears in his eyes.

Frodo and Pearl exchanged amused looks. Frodo gave a discreet cough. “Sam? Rose? They are waiting for us.”

Sam offered Rose his arm, and she took it without her eyes ever leaving his face.

Frodo followed, grateful that Sam, at least, would be fine this evening. As long as he had Rose by his side, he wouldn’t care *what* they called him; he probably wouldn’t even hear it.

Pearl watched the three head up the passage. She blew out the lamp, closed the door, and made her way to the ballroom. She wondered how her parents were doing.

________________________________________________

Paladin shrugged into his jacket, and Eglantine brushed it down in the back. She reached up and straightened his collar. “There,” she said in satisfaction.

Her husband looked down at her proudly. “You are beautiful as ever.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Indeed she did look lovely. Her dress was pale blue, with elbow length full sleeves. The neckline was filled in with a silky lace scarf, fastened by a brooch set a large sapphire. On her wrist she wore the bracelet Pippin had brought her from his travels, each charm representing one of her children.

“It will be strange not to go first after all these years.”

He smiled and kissed her brow. “At least we are still ahead of the Master and my sister.”

__________________________________________________

Esmeralda was making her own last minute adjustments to her husband. She patted his tummy. “I should have moved that button over, dear. If you eat more than a bite, your jacket will be too snug.”

“I plan to eat more than a bite, and if needs be, I shall unfasten my buttons.”

She laughed. “You rascal. You would, too!”

“Quite right.” He stood back to get a good look at her. “My word, lass! I am torn between admiration and jealousy!”

“Flatterer! I’ve not been a lass for many a year.”

“You’d never know it by that dress!”

The dress was certainly not that of the usual hobbit matron. In cut and style it was very like the dress Rose wore, though of a springtime green that brought out her Tookish eyes, and played up the reddish highlights of her chestnut curls, only lightly touched by frost even at her age. And she had not filled in the bosom with a scarf, either, but proudly displayed the magnificent emerald pendant her son had brought home to her from his journey.

Saradoc growled. “They had better keep their eyes on your face.”

“Silly goose! You know you like to show me off.” She laughed and took his arm. “Come on, let us go trail behind my brother once more.”

“Well, we shan’t be last at any rate. That honor goes to the envoys.”

___________________________________________________

In the Men’s encampment, Targon and Éothain made one more inspection of their companies. All of them gleamed in their armor and livery.

“Danulf,” said Éothain, “we will see you at the end of the evening. I am sorry you will miss the festivities, but someone had to take this watch.”

“I drew the short straw. But I do not think I will miss much. These lasses are a bit short to be dancing with the likes of me.”

They all laughed. “I will bring you a bit of cake,” said Anwynd, only half joking.

“Luck be with you,” said Danulf, as the Men marched away toward the Great Smials. He doffed his helm and sat down by the fire to begin his watch. Truth be told, he thought he might enjoy the peace and quiet. He had not really been alone for months.

_______________________________________________________

In the ballroom most of the other guests had gathered. They were waiting and wondering when the Thain would make his entrance and get the festivities underway.

The few who knew more or less what to expect found themselves watching certain people with a smug air. Pearl found her sisters and their husbands, standing near one of the sideboards, and went over to them.

Estella saw her brother enter with Marigold Gamgee, and went over to them. “Miss Marigold, you look marvelous!”

“So do you, Miss Estella!”

Hyacinth stood nervously by her two older daughters. She was frightened to death. What would they do to Opal tomorrow? If only she were able to confide in Reggie. But somehow she had long ago lost any chance at that.

Clodio Banks looked about him in dissatisfaction. Most everyone he had sounded out seemed well-disposed to what they had heard from the Men. If he were going to sink the agreement, he had an uphill battle. Maybe something would go wrong tonight, anything. He had no desire to be found out as one of Lotho’s collaborators.

There was a stir at the top of the staircase. Maybe things were about to start.

__________________________________________________

On the portico, everyone had assumed their proper positions. Bergil and Reginard drew deep breaths. Pippin murmured a quiet assurance to the lad that he’d do fine.

Bergil walked out onto the landing.

_____________________________________________________

CHAPTER 40

In the ballroom below, a few hobbits had noticed the stir on the landing, and looked up, but most had not yet stopped socializing.

Suddenly, a clear boyish treble rang out, and amplified by the huge space, the words of the song floated down to the amazed crowd:

Long live the Halflings! Praise them with great praise!

Cuio i Pheriain anann! Aglar’ni Pheriainnath!

Praise them with great praise, Frodo and Samwise!

Daur a Berhael, Conin en Annûn! Eglerio!

Praise them!

Eglerio!

A laita te, laita te! Andave laituvalmet!

Praise them!

Praise them! The Ring-bearers, praise them with great praise!*

It riveted their attention, as it was meant to do though they did not understand all the words. When he finished, and the last notes floated down into the silence, Bergil stepped back, took the basket of scrolls from Reginard, and gave him the first one.

In a strong and ringing voice he read out:

“Ladies and gentlehobbits, we have gathered here to welcome the embassy of our King, Elessar Telcontar, High King of Gondor and Arnor, and Commander of the West, descended of old from Elendil and Isildur.”

The companies entered: four Guardsmen of the White Tower, three warriors of the Riddermark; Borondir bearing the sable and argent standard of Gondor; Anwynd, the running horse of Rohan. They arrayed themselves on either side of the landing; Rohirrim on the left, Gondorians on the right, an obvious honor guard.

Behind them, Frodo took a deep breath. He could do this. He had done it before. These titles were bestowed on him in love by Aragorn and by Gandalf. They had never been intended to cause him pain. It was his own fault if they did. He could do this. He could. He felt Sam reach out and squeeze his shoulder. This will help Sam. He could do this.

He stepped forward as Reginard began to read, neither knowing nor caring how pale and beautiful he appeared to the upturned faces below.

“Frodo Baggins the Belovéd; Ringbearer; Heir to Bilbo the Ring-finder; Bronwe arthan Harthad, Endurance beyond Hope**; who journeyed to the Black Land, and by his mercy cast down the Dark Lord Sauron and saved the world; Frodo of the Nine Walkers; Elf-friend; and Deputy Mayor of the Shire.”  

Frodo let the words roll away from him, listening but not listening, hearing but not hearing. Reggie came to a stop, and Frodo made his silent way down the staircase, to stand still and cold as marble at the bottom.

Bergil handed Reginard the next scroll. And now Frodo did listen, and a smile warmed his cold face as he looked up.

“Samwise Gamgee the Stout-Hearted; Ringbearer; Companion of Frodo the Belovéd;Harthad Uluithiad, Hope Unquenchable**; who with Frodo journeyed to the Black Land and by his courage helped to cast down the Dark Lord Sauron; Samwise of the Nine Walkers, Spider’s Bane and Elf-friend.”

Sam stood there, resplendent in his wine-colored velvet, and Rosie on his arm, eyes only on her.

“ and Miss Rose Cotton, betrothed of Samwise Gamgee the Stout-Hearted.”

And they too made their slow way down the staircase, Frodo beaming at them proudly. *This* was why he had agreed to do this, to see his Sam established in honor. Whatever else came of this in the future, the Shire had seen for once that Sam was more than just a gardener.

Hobbits who had watched in stunned silence as Frodo had been introduced before the Thain, and by all those incomprehensible titles, began to murmur as Sam was announced. A *gardener* before the Thain? What was going on?

Pearl was observing the reactions around her carefully; her parents would want to know. Uncle Clodio looked decidedly green. She saw Merimac Brandybuck, who had traveled separately from his brother and was staying at the inn in town. Since he would be acting as speaker for the Brandybucks he had to maintain his distance. He looked amused, and when he saw her watching, he tipped her a wink.

Sam and Rose now stood beside Frodo, and Reginard’s voice rang out once again.

“Prince Legolas Thranduilion, Ernil i Lasgalen, Prince of Greenwood; Lord of Ithilien; Legolas of the Nine Walkers, and of the Three Hunters; Warrior of Helm’s Deep; Warrior of the Pellenor; Warrior of the Morannon.”  

There was a collective gasp from the assembled hobbits. For many it was the first glimpse of the Elf. He was a Prince? And he had been announced *third*? And what was all that business about Nine Walkers?

Legolas glided down the stairs, and positioned himself behind Sam and Rose. His tall fair form faintly glowing, he seemed as though he were an otherworldly protector of the three hobbits who stood before him.

“Sir Peregrin Took, Knight of Gondor; Kinsman of Frodo the Belovéd; Peregrin of the Nine Walkers; Guard of the Citadel; Warrior of the Siege of Minas Tirith; Warrior of the Morannon; Trollsbane; Heir to Paladin, the Thain of the Shire.”

As Pippin made his way down, some of the more astute hobbits were beginning to notice a pattern. Others were even more perplexed--why was he announced before his father?

Poppy Burrows nodded upwards as she said to her friend Lavender, “See what I mean? Almost obscenely healthy!”

Pervinca and Pimpernel squeezed one another’s hand and watched their baby brother descend the stairs with tears of pride.

“Sir Meriadoc Brandybuck, Holdwine of the Riddermark; Knight of Rohan; Kinsman of Frodo the Belovéd; Meriadoc of the Nine Walkers; Warrior of the Pellenor; Nazgûlbane; Heir to Saradoc, the Master of Buckland.”

Estella, standing with her brother and Marigold, looked up. Her heart was in her throat. He was magnificent. She flushed to remember that he had said he wished she could be there on his arm. Oh, how she wished it, too!

“Gimli son of Gloín, of the Lonely Mountain; Lord of Aglarond; Gimli of the Nine Walkers and of the Three Hunters; Lockbearer;Warrior of Helm's Deep; Warrior of the Pellenor; Warrior of the Morannon.”

As Gimli made his descent, a few of the older hobbits found themselves in mind of old Bilbo’s tales. One or two of them remarked “Gloín? Wasn’t that one of Bilbo’s Dwarves?”

“Paladin Took, the Took, Thain of the Shire, and his Lady, Eglantine Took.”

Paladin and Eglantine made their dignified way down the staircase, their observant eyes noting the startlement among the crowd at the brevity of their introduction. It was perfectly correct, and how they were always announced, but it sounded a bit stark after all the others. That was just the effect they needed.

“Saradoc Brandybuck, Master of Buckland, and Esmeralda Took Brandybuck, Mistress of Brandy Hall.”

Merry looked up at his parents as they descended, and felt a wave of love and affection. Would he and Estella be like them one day? If he could have a marriage as happy as his parents’, he would consider himself very blessed.

Merimac watched the other hobbits watching his brother. Speculation as to how the Brandybucks would take all this was written on many faces.

“Targon son of Cirion, Envoy of His Majesty Elessar Telcontar, High King of Gondor and Arnor; Guard of the Citadel; Captain of the Third Company of the Guard; Warrior of the Siege of Minas Tirith; Warrior of the Pellenor.”

Soon Targon reached the end of the staircase. The watching hobbits silent once more, many of them wondering what it meant to have Men among them again.

“Éothain Éodred’s son, Envoy of Éomer King of Rohan, his Kinsman and Commander of his éored. Warrior of Helm’s Deep; Warrior of the Pellenor; Warrior of the Morannon.“

The envoy of Rohan joined that of Gondor at the foot of the stairs. All the guests of honor had now been introduced. The four Travellers, Legolas and Gimli doffed their Elven cloaks, repinning the leaf brooches to their collars, something Legolas had come up with. They handed the cloaks to a waiting servant. Paladin looked up at Reginard and nodded.

“Our guests have now been honored. Let the Ball begin!”

Reggie handed the last scroll to Bergil, and the two of them, followed by the rest of the Men, now released of their duty, descended the stairs as well to join the festivities.

______________________________________________________

* From The Return of the King, Book 6, Chapter 4 “The Field of Cormallen”

** From The History of Middle-earth, Vol. IX “Sauron Defeated”

CHAPTER 41

The musicians struck up the first notes at Reginard’s announcement. As was traditional in most hobbit gatherings, the first dance was a circle dance that required no couples, just rings of a dozen or more dancers. There were several variations on these simple dances and the first one was one of the simplest. Merry and Pippin encouraged the Men to join in.

Legolas needed no encouragement. After his fey mood of the day before had passed, he had made up his mind to enjoy to the fullest everything the Shire had to offer. Laughing he found a spot in one of the circles between Pippin and Pervinca.

Gimli shook his head. “Fool Elf!” he grumbled fondly, before he went over to the sideboards to look for some ale.

With Legolas as an example, Bergil, Artamir, Leodwald and Anwynd also added themselves to one of the dancing circles. Rose smiled at Sam, and also tugged at Frodo. He would have demurred, but Esmeralda snapped “Manners, Frodo!” in a tone of voice he had not heard since he was twenty, and he was startled into obedience.

He found himself between Merry and Estella on one side and Sam and Rose on the other. Suddenly he felt another hand come between him and Merry. He looked over to see his cousin Angelica, who gave him a nervous smile. The music sped up a bit, and his feet remembered what it was to dance.

__________________________________________

In spite of the enthusiasm of the younger lasses and lads, most of the hobbits, especially the older males, were not yet dancing. That is to say, the dance they were doing was not the dance being played by the musicians: they were after information.

Paladin was accosted by Olo Proudfoot and Fosco Hornblower.

“Paladin,” barked Olo, “what was all that nonsense? Why did you give way to all the others?”

Although secretly pleased at the question--it was the reaction they had been seeking after all--the Thain drew himself up and managed to look offended. “Why, because they outrank me, of course! Why else?”

Olo looked startled, but Fosco snorted. “How does Frodo’s gardener outrank you?” he asked skeptically.

“Because by order of King Elessar himself, Frodo and Samwise outrank everyone else in the Two Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor--of which the Shire is a part. I am told that in his court, he, himself, of his own will, gives precedence to Frodo and Samwise.”

This led to more questions, as Paladin had hoped. Eglantine, my love, he thought, you are brilliant!

________________________________________________

Saradoc found himself similarly cornered by Eglantine’s brother Clodio, and by Dago Bracegirdle. He noticed that they seemed to be avoiding Paladin for some reason.

“So,” said the Banks, with more than a hint of a sneer, “how did it feel to be outranked by your son and your nephews?”

Saradoc drew himself up, a glint in his eyes much like Merry’s when angered. “Proud. It made me feel very, very proud indeed.” He turned away. There would be no explanations for them from him at any rate. He sensed that they would oppose anything Paladin came up with. No need to waste valuable breath on them. But he marked it in his mind and wondered.

_______________________________________________

“Captain Targon!” It was Odovocar Bolger and Merimac Brandybuck, both known to him. “How do you think it want?”

The Man laughed. “You tell me, you were there to observe the reactions.”

________________________________________________

Gimli and Adrahil had found the sideboard where the ale was located, and soon availed themselves of refreshment.

Just then they were confronted by two matronly looking hobbits.

“Master Gimli,” said one, “My name is Poppy Burrows; I am the Took family healer, and this is my colleague Lavender Bunce. Please introduce us to your companion; we have a few questions.”

________________________________________________

The circles of dancers went back and forth several times, dropped hands and moved to the center, clapping three times before stepping back out. They repeated the movements as the music went faster, faster and faster, before stopping abruptly, leaving the dancers laughing and breathless.

The next dance was for couples, and Frodo started to move to the sidelines when he was intercepted by Eglantine.

“Come along, Frodo, I want to dance, and Paladin is busy politicking.”

_________________________________________________

After the dance, Legolas was on his own; several of the hobbits who had been hitherto friendly were hanging back, no longer certain of how to address him now they knew him to be a prince. He knew this was only temporary, as hobbits, once they had a mind to be friends, could not be formal for long. But for now it gave him a bit of respite.

He noted Gimli and Adrahil talking earnestly to a pair of hobbitesses, and moved to join the conversation.

__________________________________________________

The dance was a slow and elegant one, done in sets of two couples. Somehow Frodo found himself and Eglantine dancing with Pippin and Angelica.

Frodo managed to lose himself in the intricate patterns of music and movement, and did not notice the speculative looks Angelica kept giving him.

Eglantine did. Uh-oh, she thought.

_______________________________________________

Sam and Rose danced the set with Merry and Estella. Watching from the sidelines, Fredegar was amazed that the two couples did not collide, as they never took their eyes off their partners’ face long enough to see what the other couple was doing.

He wondered if he would ever feel that way about a lass.

_________________________________________________

After spending several minutes explaining the precedence to a skeptical Polo Bunce, Reginard found himself having to repeat it all over again for Chico Chubb.

Once he got away, he would have to find Hyacinth. If he did not force himself to dance at least once with her tonight, he would never hear the end of it. If he could get it over early enough in the evening he could probably safely spend the rest of the night in conversation.

____________________________________________________

The dance ended, and Frodo escorted Eglantine from the dance floor. He had no sooner relinquished her than Esmeralda took his arm.

“Come along, Frodo. I love this dance, and your Uncle Sara will be tied up for a while.” She glanced over to where the Master was engaged in conversation with Longo and Milo Goodbody.

_____________________________________________________

It was a fairly simple dance. Pervinca coaxed Bergil. “I will talk you through it; it’s not hard at all.”

“Come on, Bergil, it will be fun!” Pippin had Viola Harfoot, Poppy’s apprentice, on his arm. “Look, we’ve Merry and Estella, Sam and Rose, Frodo and Aunt Esme for our set. No one here who will mind if you are not perfect.”

The males lined up on the right, the females on the left, her right hand lightly clasped in his left. Forward, pause, forward, pause, three steps, pause; clasp both hands, step up, step back, step up, step back, drop hands and three steps backwards…

Bergil concentrated on Pervinca’s counting. Sir Pippin was right, it was fun. And it was not like he was having to dance with a real lass. This was only Sir Pippin’s sister.

_________________________________________________

Amethyst and Garnet had been appalled at the trouble Opal was in, and were frightened of getting dragged down with her. And then, when the guests were announced, they were aghast to discover that their Elf was a Prince, though truth to say, they still did not understand why he would be insulted by their interest. Their mother had instructed them to avoid their father, and to keep their mouths shut about Opal, or they could find themselves in disgrace and worse.

Far from enjoying the Ball, they were skittish and jumpy.

“Oh no!” said Amethyst. “There’s Father! I think he’s looking for Mother. Go warn her, Garnet.”

____________________________________________________

When Frodo returned Esmeralda after the dance, he was not surprised to be pulled back to the dance floor by Pearl.

He balked.

“Come on, Frodo. It’s ‘Exchanges’; I want to get into a good set.”

“Pearl, why do I get the feeling that my female relatives are in a plot to keep me on the dance floor?”

Pearl looked at him as though he were daft. “Of course we are, you silly goose! As long as you are dancing, you will not be pestered with unpleasant questions you would rather not answer.”

Frodo looked at her, thunderstruck; it would never have occurred to him to avoid the curiosity stirred up by his introduction by dancing. “Ah. Well, come on then. There’s a set forming with Merry and Estella and Sam and Rose.” Now it was he tugging her towards the dance floor. Females! So devious and so practical. Amazing!

____________________________________________

Pippin and Bergil had managed to coax some more of the Men out to the dance floor for ‘Exchanges’, one of the most popular of the dances. He had kept Viola as a partner. Legolas was tempted to join the dance, until he saw that one of those unpleasant cousins--Amethyst, was it?--had formed part of the set. Esmeralda took Bergil, Eglantine found herself with Artamir, Pimpernel and Pervinca also partnered with a couple of the Men.

Soon there were eight sets of dancers, each set consisting of a dozen or more couples, and a great many non-partnered hobbits hovering about the edges of the dancers.

For ‘Exchanges’ was a much a game as it was a dance. The dance itself was dignified and simple to the point of being almost boring. It consisted of couples bowing and crossing over to exchange places with one another, and bowing and crossing back, and moving up the line one couple at a time. But what made it interesting was after the first few measures, hobbits who had not found partners were free to try and cut in, if possible, during one of the exchanges. There were a great many different techniques involved, and much maneuvering to either get into the dance or to avoid being cut out. Often hilarity ensued as two lads or two lasses occasionally tried to cut out the same person, or when a lad would accidentally end up on the lasses’ side of the line, or the reverse.

The music began, and for the first few measures there was no ‘poaching’. But soon the first attempt was made. Pearl and Frodo were agile, and managed to avoid being cut out several times, but suddenly Pearl found her place taken by a determined Angelica Baggins. Pearl retired to the side, to watch her opportunity to get back in. She noticed the look Angelica was giving her cousin. Uh-oh, Pearl thought. She took a chance to cut out a careless Estella. Merry looked at her reproachfully; it wasn’t usually considered sporting to cut courting couples, though married or betrothed couples were considered fair game.

“Sorry, Merry. But I want you to rescue Frodo.” She nodded up the line about three couples to where Frodo and Angelica were. He looked closely. “Uh-oh,” he said. He allowed himself to be cut on the next measure, and then went up to cut his cousin. Frodo looked at him gratefully as he backed away from the dance.

_________________________________________________

Legolas stood on the sidelines watching the dance, as Freddy filled him in on the finer points of cutting. Legolas found it very interesting. The dance itself was simple and elegant, and the element of ‘poaching’ made it a challenge. He thought perhaps this was a dance he could introduce to the Elves--of course, he wouldn’t tell them until it became popular that it was from hobbits.

Instead of trying to cut back into the dance, Frodo decided to take the chance for a breather. He walked over to Freddy and Legolas. In order to discourage anyone interrupting, and to give Freddy a chance to practice, they began to converse in Sindarin.

Angelica watched Frodo’s departure with annoyance; she saw the smirk on Merry’s face. She allowed Estella to cut her out at the first opportunity, and wandered over in the direction where Frodo had gone. She had committed herself to this course, and she wasn’t going to be deterred by a few setbacks.

_________________________________________________

Clodio and Cado had cut in to a few sets, and quickly been cut out again. Neither of them were very nimble dancers.

“How soon do you think we can safely slip out?” Cado asked his older brother.

“Almost everyone will be on the dance floor for the last dance before they change musicians. That would probably be our best opportunity.”

___________________________________________________

Gimli was still conversing with Poppy and Lavender, and had drawn an audience of several other hobbits who did not care to dance. He found he had their rapt attention for his description of the hunt across Rohan for Merry and Pippin.

____________________________________________________

Angelica hesitated as she saw who Frodo was talking with. The Elf, and who was that other hobbit? Surely that was not Fredegar Bolger? She had not seen Fatty--or Freddy as most now called him--since well before the Troubles. She remembered being skeptical about his exploits as a leader of the Rebellion. The Freddy she remembered had been a silly ass, always hanging about with poor little Folco Boffin. She had felt terrible about what happened to Folco, but still, he had been a silly ass as well.

But here was Fredegar with a look of intelligent interest, speaking with Frodo and the Elf in another language. He looked quite nice. Still, it was Frodo she had business with. She steeled herself to interrupt.

Frodo saw her approach out of the corner of his eye. Uh-oh, he thought. It had been a few years, but he had not remained a bachelor as long as he had without being aware of the signs of feminine pursuit. Still, there seemed something a bit odd about the determined way Angelica was stalking him tonight. She had never struck him as that type of lass before.

He might as well nip this in the bud.

“Hullo, Cousin Angelica. Have you met Prince Legolas?” Frodo made the introduction.

To her credit, she managed not only to curtsy, but to acknowledge the introduction with a polite “how-do-you-do?” actually meeting the Elven eyes briefly, though she did blush.

“You remember Freddy Bolger, don’t you?”

She blushed again. “It has been quite a while. Yes, I do remember.”

“Pleased to renew our acquaintance, Miss Angelica,” said Freddy with a polite bow. She was a very nice looking lass.

“Cousin,” said Frodo, taking her arm firmly, “why don’t we go take the air on the terrace.”

Since this was exactly what she had been hoping for, she thought, why was she so apprehensive?

_______________________________________________________

Ponto Baggins watched them with satisfaction. He just knew all his Angelica had to do was put her mind to it. Soon enough there would be more little Bagginses running about the Shire.

________________________________________________________

Pimpernel had allowed herself to be cut out of the dance and moved away. It was stuffy; she was hot and a bit tired. She thought maybe it was a good idea to get a bit of air on the terrace, before it got crowded with courting couples.

________________________________________________________

Locked in the semi-darkness of her room, Opal had finally cried herself out. She had finished all the water she had been allowed, for tears made one thirsty, but she had not been able to choke down any of the bread.

Why, oh why, had she been so *stupid*? All she had thought of when she saw that box was the chance to get her hands on that necklace. It had not even occurred to her that once she had it, she would never *dare* to ever wear it. And never in a thousand years had she thought that she might get caught, or what would happen if she did.

And now, now, she had no future at all. All she could look forward to was to being marked as a thief. Even if they did not put the mark on her hand, everyone would know anyway; talk would get around, it always did, as she well knew. If this happened to any of her friends or relatives, she’d not hesitate to talk about it.

And worse, what if Paladin did decide to let those Men have a say? She had heard stories of the justice of Men--it was much worse than anything hobbits would come up with.

She looked at her window.

It wasn’t locked.

________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 42

The bench where Pimpernel chose to sit was in the shadows, away from the light of the room. It was nice, because it backed right up on a low wall, and she could lean back and relax and get a breath of cool air.

She had a feeling that this time was going to be a bit more difficult than Flora or Alyssum. Maybe that was a sign that she would have a lad. If she did, that would be nice. Sometimes Poppy could tell, but she was not always forthcoming with the information.

Just then she spotted a couple coming out. Oh, dear. Who was it? Maybe Merry and Estella? They were so cute together. She turned her head. Frodo and Angelica? Not good. If she got up and moved, she risked embarrassing them; if she stayed put, she risked eavesdropping.

But she was comfortable right now. Maybe they would not say anything that would embarrass *her*.

With Angelica on his arm, Frodo strolled over to one of the benches and they sat down, side by side, and not too close. He waited in patient silence. He knew if he didn’t say anything, she would have to.

“Frodo, I--” she stopped. What was she going to say? She had not really thought far enough ahead. Why had she thought she could do this to him? “Frodo, you--” she stopped again, glad that he could not see her flush in the darkness.

“You don’t really want to do this, do you, Cousin Angelica?” he asked gently. He was not sure what was motivating her, but it was clearly not infatuation.

She looked up at him in surprise. Had she been so obvious? “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should never have tried to do this.”

“Why did you?”

“Papa. He’s worried.”

Frodo looked over at her, startled. What was Ponto about, putting his daughter up to this? “What on Middle-earth is he worried about?” This was unkind of the old hobbit, to say the least.

“He says I’ll be the last of the Bagginses,” she answered mournfully.

Ah, thought Frodo, so that was it. This was a grief he had come to terms with long ago, in Rivendell when he offered to take the Ring. Of course, then he had thought he’d not be coming back at all. He picked at the emotional scar a bit; it still stung, but he would have to deal with it.

“He’s right,” Frodo answered gently. “My travels did not use me well, and my health is not what it used to be. There will be no wife or children for me, Angelica. There will be no more Bagginses.”

She looked at him, appalled. “Ever? Oh, Frodo, I’m so sorry.” She felt the tears sting her eyes. He looked so fair and beautiful and utterly alone, yet even with that, she did not feel for him what she should have, to attempt what she did. He was remote and alien, almost like his friend the Elf. Suddenly she realized that she did love him, but it was a reverent love, a far away worshipful love for something high and far beyond her, like loving a star. It would never be the kind of love to build a life on, but it was something she could hold in her heart, to know someone like him, with so great a soul.

He looked at her with compassion. “I will have a word with Ponto. He must not continue to hope that I can carry on the family name.” He smiled at her. “You are a very attractive lass, you know. I think Freddy noticed,” he added slyly.

She looked at him in surprise. “Do you think so?”

“I would be surprised if you could not get him to dance with you more than once before the evening is over.”

“Thank you, Frodo.” She gave him a brief and cousinly hug, and made her way back to the ballroom with a lighter heart than she’d had all evening.

Pimpernel felt the tears run silently down her face. She had once seen the scars her brother bore from his travels. He had told her that Frodo had endured infinitely worse. Now she began to understand.

Frodo sat slumped and weary. “It’s all right, Pimmie. You can move now.”

She gasped. He had known she was there all along.

“My hearing and night vision are better than average, cousin. But you were here first.”

She moved over to sit by him, tentatively. What could she say to a grief like that. No chance ever at a family of his own? It was unspeakably sad. She looked at him through tear-filled eyes. Suddenly they both wept into one another’s arms. She rocked him as though he were a child. Why had she never before appreciated what kind of person he was? Merry and Pippin had always known his quality. To her he had always just been odd old Cousin Frodo, nice enough, but not very interesting; she had never known how much more there was to him.

The storm passed. Frodo sat up and wiped at his face. “I apologize, Pimmie. I should not have put you through that.”

“I am glad to be here for you.” She had an idea. “Frodo--this little one, if it is a lass, I should like to name her Primula, and if it is a lad, perhaps Drogo?”

A smile broke through his pale countenance. He studied her intently for a moment, and then laughed. “That is a lovely thought, dear, I think I should like that. And I do believe you will need *both* those names!”

She looked at him, startled. My goodness, how could he know? But he seemed quite certain.

He stood up and offered her his arm. “Shall we return to the ballroom now? I do not believe I have danced with you, yet.”

She smiled and stood. “Thank you, cousin. I would be honored.”

____________________________________________________

CHAPTER 43

Gimli had been enjoying holding forth for the two female healers, who were attentive and not at all squeamish when he talked about the battles. The Took family healer had a particular interest in hearing about Pippin’s sojourn in Fangorn, and how he and Merry had grown so suddenly. She was also very interested in hearing about his battle with the troll, which Adrahil had described for her, but she had pumped Gimli thoroughly on his injuries.

And she kept turning to the other healer and saying “See, Lavender, what did I tell you!”

But now the music changed, and there was an air of anticipation about the ballroom. It was almost time to change the musicians, which meant the midway point of the affair. This particular dance was done at the mid-point of any festivity, and no one missed out on it, whether they did any of the other dances or not.

Poppy and Lavender took Gimli, one by each hand and hauled away. He found that he could not politely balk them.

All the Men, Legolas and Bergil were pulled into the giant circle being formed; the older hobbits who had been busy with other matters dropped their conversations and joined in.

The music began, and the dance started, two large steps to the left, two small steps to the right. Eglantine, as hostess, was to lead the dance. She dropped the hand on her right and began to weave under the other dancers’ arms, in and out. The Men of course, could not do this, so the hobbits on either side would drop hands very briefly as they came through. But Legolas was nimbly able to pass under, to the amazement of all. As the circle grew more tangled, a few less hardy souls dropped out.

Among these were Clovis and Cado, who had other plans. They slipped unnoticed from the ballroom.

More and more tangled grew the line of hobbits and guests, until they could barely move. Just as they thought they would not be able to take another step, the music ended, and they all broke apart laughing. Eglantine took compliments on the complexity of her tangles. There would be a short break now, while the other band came in to set up.

The majority of hobbits headed for the refreshments.

____________________________________________________

Opal looked at the small bundle she had made in her pillowcase. She took a deep breath and threw open the window-sash. She tossed the bundle out, and then awkwardly clambered out herself. It was only a short drop from the window to the ground, but she was not used to climbing or jumping, and she landed with a sharp and painful thud on her backside.

She did not know where she would go, or what she would do. But anything was better than waiting to be marked as a thief.

____________________________________________________

Reginard was beginning to get the distinct feeling that his wife was avoiding him. Normally, this would not have bothered him much--he would in fact, consider it a blessing. But at a time like this, with the Ball going on, it filled him with suspicion. She was either up to something or hiding something from him, or both.

Hyacinth saw her husband looking for her. She quickly retreated before he could find her, up the short passage to one of the water closets. She knew he would be suspicious about why she was not demanding he dance with her, but she simply could not face him. She would probably blurt everything out, and Paladin and Eglantine would be furious.

_______________________________________________________

Danulf sat by the watchfire. He could hear the strains of music coming from the Smials, which was pleasant, and the little carving of a running horse that was taking shape under his nimble fingers was coming along nicely. He was neither bored nor sleepy; this was a nice way to spend an evening, and really there was no danger here in this tame little land.

________________________________________________________

Merry and Estella strolled out to the terrace for a bit of air. They couldn’t be long; Rosamunda had been watching, and she would guard the proprieties seriously.

They stood by the low wall, and Merry risked an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him a bit. He was so tall and strong; she felt so safe in his presence.

“I think things are going well,” she said. “My father is very favorably impressed by your Men. And it is nice that Fatty seems so much happier and relaxed.”

Merry shook his head. “Why do you still call him ‘Fatty’? No one else does.”

She laughed. “Because from me it never meant ‘fatty’. When I was a faunt, that was the closest I could come to ‘Freddy’. Everyone else just took it up, and as he was a bit plumper than average, most folks just assumed that’s what it was.”

“Oh. I never knew that.”

“See. We learn something new everyday.” She laughed. “Now you tell me something I never knew.”

Merry grew somber. Too many of the things he knew that she didn’t were not things he wanted to talk about tonight. He tried to think of something pleasant. He smiled.

“When we were in Lothlórien, the Lady Galadriel read our minds, to find out what would tempt us away from the Quest. I saw myself Master of Buckland, old and venerable, sitting by the fire with a lovely white haired hobbitess, and a crowd of grandchildren around our knees. I never knew until I came home that she was you.”

She looked up at him, her heart in her eyes. “Oh!” she breathed.

Merry jerked his head. “Don’t look now, but your mother’s coming.”

________________________________________________

Pippin and Bergil stood by the sideboard with the refreshments. Pippin sipped his wine--he normally preferred ale, but the table with the ale was too crowded, and he was thirsty. He had poured some fruit juice for Bergil.

“Sir Pippin, couldn’t I have just a taste?”

“You are far too young Bergil. Targon would never allow you to stay with me again, and your father would probably challenge me if he ever saw me again.” Pippin sighed at the sound of his own voice. Stars above! He sounded old and responsible. He sounded like Merry. No, worse. Merry would sometimes give in to him. He sounded like Frodo. Now he really felt old.

______________________________________________

Clovis and Cado made their way to the front of the Great Smials. Every so often they had to slip aside to avoid the occasional guest seeking to take the air, or lost on the way to the water closet, or the servants who were hither and yon on various errands.

Finally they came to the gate, across the road from the assembly field.

Cado stopped. “Don’t you think it’s about time that you told me what you have in mind, Clo?”

“Father says if they ratify the treaty, then Paladin and Frodo will be investigating him. He thinks that he can stall the assembly with politics. But wouldn’t it be a lot easier to make the Men angry, so that they would decide not to deal with the Shire?”

“And how do you think we could do that?”

“Well, they seem to think all the hobbits love them. But if someone messed things up at their camp, and maybe ran their horses off--”

Cado grinned. “Yes. That might do it.”

“And tonight is perfect. They are all at the Ball.”

__________________________________________________

Opal clutched her bundle, her heart in her mouth. She had never before in her life walked across this field alone, in the dark. Every sound was frightening. She kept stepping in holes and falling, or stumbling over rocks. Her skirts were being caught by brambles. She was beginning to think maybe she should have awaited her fate in her room.

But she looked over to the right far in the distance, where the Men’s encampment was. How could she wait without knowing what it might be? What would Men do to her for stealing their King’s gift? She would just have to get as far away as she could. She had heard people talk of a place called “Bree”. She wondered how far it was, and if she were going in the right direction.

__________________________________________________

Cado looked at his brother, as they crouched behind a carriage parked near the encampment. They were looking at the watchfire, and the Man who sat there. “I thought you said they were all at the Ball.”

“I thought they were.” Clovis hissed.

“What are we going to do now?”

“Shhh. Let me think a minute.” He pursed his lips, and reached down beside him. He picked up a rock, and tossed it thoughtfully in his hand.

Over to the left, he could barely see the line of horses on the picket.

They’d have to get a bit closer, but not much.

Arod snorted and tossed his head. Something was out there, something or someone hostile. He moved restlessly. This woke the other horses, who caught his unease.

Danulf heard the horses stirring. A Man of Rohan can tell much from the behavior of horses, and these were alarmed, and not by the wind or the sounds coming from the Smials. He stood up suddenly, and with a ring of steel, drew his sword. Someone was out there, and not well-disposed, or they would have announced themselves.

He started to look about him. But he failed to catch the flash of movement. The rock caught him on the side of the head, and he measured his length upon the ground.

“What did you do?” hissed Cado in a panic. “What if you killed him?” He grabbed his brother by the jacket.

Clovis tore his brother’s grip loose, and flung his hands away, heedless of the buttons that tore from the front. “It’s all right. He’s just knocked out--” he hoped, “and now we can spook the horses.” He could just imagine the consternation among the Men. Surely they would be so angry, they would leave! His father should be pleased; he never thought that his sons could think for themselves. This would show him!

The two hobbits moved closer to the picket, where the horses had already begun to move about, neighing, and frightened. A few well placed rocks on their flanks, and they pulled the picket loose. Soon they were bolting across the field.

Clovis brushed his hands together in satisfaction. Mission accomplished. They turned to slip back to the Ball. No one would have missed them. Cado looked back. He felt uneasy. This had been too simple. Something could still go wrong.

________________________________________________

Opal heard the thunder of the hooves. She screamed as the horses bore down in her direction. She turned to flee, but fell, and then she knew no more.

________________________________________________

CHAPTER 44

Bergil was bored. The dances they were playing now were just for couples, and they were slow and sedate. It was mostly the old hobbits dancing now.

Sir Pippin was no fun right now, either. He was out on the terrace, smoking and talking to lasses. He said Bergil was too young for smoking yet, too. And Targon and Sir Meriadoc agreed. And Sir Meriadoc was out there smoking and looking at Miss Estella. He liked Miss Estella, she was a nice lass, but goodness, to just stand around and stare at her?

He sat down on the staircase, and began to drum his fingers. Maybe he should just leave and go on to bed. But he was still on duty, more or less, he thought. Someone might need him to take a message or something.

“Are you a bit at loose ends, Bergil?”

He looked up. It was Anwynd. He and Anwynd were quite good friends, especially since he had started giving Bergil flute lessons. He nodded, a bit sullenly.

Anwynd held up a little bundle. It was a napkin wrapped around something. “Would you like to do something for me? I thought that Danulf might appreciate a bit of cake and one or two of the pastries. And if you will fetch me my flute, the musicians have said I might sit in with them for a bit.”

Bergil grinned. It would be a chance to stretch his legs, and say hello to the horses, and maybe by the time he came back, they would be having some fun dances again. He had thought the tangle one splendid. “Will you tell Captain Targon and Sir Pippin where I have gone?”

“Most certainly, lad. Thank you, and off with you then.”

Bergil took the bundle of treats for Danulf, and carefully made his way out of the ballroom. Once outside, he stretched his legs and ran.

_____________________________________________________

Reggie was positive Hyacinth was avoiding him now. He had actually seen her spot him and turn the other way. He had also seen Amethyst and Garnet, but not Opal anywhere. He thought he knew what the problem might be.

Apparently his elder two daughters had been let off their punishment, and his youngest had not. That could only mean that the child had disgraced herself again in some way, and Hyacinth was trying to keep it from him.

Well, he was bound to find out sooner or later. He was very nearly fed up with his family. Perhaps it was time he asserted his authority and put his foot down.

________________________________________________________

Legolas and Gimli had joined Merry and Pippin on the terrace, and the four were regaling an audience of admiring lasses and tweenaged lads with some humorous stories of their stay in Rivendell. Pippin still had Viola Harfoot by his side, but there were several other lasses who were vying to be near him. Merry had eyes only for Estella.

_________________________________________________________

Targon and Éothain were watching from the sidelines with Paladin and Saradoc. Overall they were pleased with the way things were going.

Anwynd came over to keep his pledge to Bergil and let his captain know where he had gone.

Targon smiled. “I take it he was beginning to get bored?”

“Less so than he would have been at court in Mundburg,” said Anwynd who had heard Bergil‘s complaints of how long he had to stand about as a page. “But I think he was feeling a bit left out.”

Paladin frowned. “Pippin should not neglect his guest.”

Targon shook his head. “Neither should he have to dance attendance the whole time the boy is here. I am afraid we have let the lad get a bit spoiled; his father will not thank us.”

____________________________________________________________

Eglantine and Frodo were enjoying one of the more sedate dances.

They smiled at Sam and Rose as they danced by them. Frodo did not think the two of them had missed a single dance.

“Well, Frodo,” she asked, “has it really been so bad as you feared?”

He shook his head. “There were moments. But on the whole, the evening has not been completely unpleasant.”

“I am glad. I did not understand until I talked to Esmeralda just how difficult you might find it. Truly, I did not wish to hurt you, but as you can see, it will make the assembly run much more smoothly now that they have seen that we are a part of a Kingdom once more, and must needs follow what a King decrees.”

“Aragorn is no tyrant,” began Frodo.

“I said not so,” she replied, “but since we are not really used to authority much here in the Shire it is as well to establish whose wishes will hold sway in matters such as precedence.”

“You really enjoyed turning everything upside down tonight, didn’t you, Tina?”

“I most certainly did.”

______________________________________________

Bergil raced across the lawn, carefully carrying the napkin of treats for Danulf. He went through the gate at the front of the Smials, and wove in and out through the various parked carriages, carts and coaches, towards the encampment.

But he slowed as he neared. Something was not right. Why did he not see Danulf by the fire? Perhaps he had stepped away briefly to answer a call of nature. But the fire had burned awfully low. A few more feet and he was close enough to distinguish the still form laid out beside the fire.

He swallowed fearfully. What if the assailants were still about? But he had to see if Danulf was all right.

He ran the last few feet, and knelt down by the fallen Man. He didn’t think he was dead--his eyes were closed, and he didn’t have that *look* Bergil had come to know far too well in the Houses of Healing. He reached over and put his hand on Danulf’s neck, as he had seen the healers there often do. He could feel the beat of the Rohirrim’s heart in the pulse at his throat. Good, he was alive. But there was some blood on the side of his head.

He looked about him again. Whoever did this was gone. He had to fetch help. There was something else not right--where were the horses? Who would do a thing like this in the Shire? Surely not hobbits! Were there more of those renegade Men, those ruffians, about? Sir Pippin said they had got rid of them, but what if they had come back?

He was completely unaware of his tears. “I’m sorry, Danulf, to leave you, but I have to go get help.”

He stood up and raced back the way he had come, even faster than he had before.

_________________________________________________________

“Hyacinth.”

She jumped, her heart in her mouth. She had not seen or heard Reggie come up behind her.

“Reginard.” She tried to put her normal hauteur into her voice, but it sounded forced, even to her own ears.

“Hyacinth, where is Opal?”

Paladin and Eglantine will kill me, she thought. How did he know?

_________________________________________________________

“Sir Pippin! Sir Pippin! Help!” he raced up the terrace and nearly collapsed into Pippin’s arms.

“Bergil! What in the world?” Pippin tried to support the lad, as he bent nearly double, trying to breathe.

“Someone--someone attacked Danulf and stole all the horses!”

Legolas and Gimli immediately raced off. Pippin, still trying to help Bergil catch his breath, looked at Merry.

“I’ll go get the Men, and the Thain and Da.” He turned on his heel and moved. Estella gazed at him, wide-eyed.

“You might want to fetch a healer as well. Poppy is here.” Merry nodded.

The other hobbits on the terrace were beginning to panic. “Go back inside, right now. And do not say anything.” As if they would listen to that bit of advice. “I mean it!” he said in a tone that would brook no denial, and boded well for his own future as Thain.

_________________________________________________

Merry quickly found the Men, Paladin and Saradoc. As they filed hurriedly out, Frodo noticed. He and Sam followed.

It took Merry a few more moments to find Poppy. She and Lavender agreed to come at once. “Viola!” called Poppy, “fetch my medical satchel from the coach and bring it along to the campsite. Hop to it, lass!” She punctuated the order with a clap of her hands, and she and Lavender followed Merry out.

_________________________________________________

Esmeralda had taken charge of the distraught Bergil so that Pippin could make his way to the campsite. Now that he had discharged his duty, the child had begun to give way to the panic he had held at bay. The storm did not last long, and she wiped away the tears as they subsided.

“You did very well, Bergil. It is good that you had such presence of mind, and you were very brave.”

“Well, you know,” he said simply, “he didn’t *look* dead. But I had to be sure.”

It suddenly dawned on Esmeralda that this young boy had seen more dead people in his few short years than she ever had or ever would in her entire life. She gave a shudder. She was glad he had not seen another tonight.

_____________________________________________________

There was quite a stir going around the ballroom; the problem was that anyone with answers had left.

Eglantine made her way to the dais. “May I have your attention! There has been a problem down at the Men’s camp. We shall know more about it soon. Please remain in the ballroom; enjoy the refreshments, and continue with the dance. This may not concern us at all.” She signaled the musicians to play once more.

Of course, almost no one danced. But the stir had subsided somewhat now that someone had taken charge.

Clovis gave a smirk, and elbowed his brother. “It won’t be long now. Then Father will have nothing to worry about, and he can thank us for it.”

_________________________________________________________

Clodio Banks and Dago Bracegirdle huddled together to one side of the ballroom.

“I don’t know what has happened, but something has gone wrong,” said Clodio. “That can only be to our advantage. Things were going far too much their way so far tonight.”

“I’m not so sure that it will help us,” said Dago. “I have a bad feeling about this.” He wished he had never let Clodio talk him into “investing” with Lotho. It was the most foolish thing he had ever done in his life. But Lobelia was family, and it had seemed profitable at the time.

___________________________________________________________

As soon as Hyacinth had blurted out what Opal had done, Reggie had bustled her out of the ballroom. They had been gone before Bergil had come back with the news.

“Take me to her at once, Hyacinth.”

Years of browbeating and hen-pecking an unresponsive husband had left Hyacinth unprepared to deal with an aroused and angry Reginard. She tried to summon up indignation at being treated this way, but it was undermined by the knowledge that this time she was really in trouble.

He marched her quickly through the Smials, in a fury. That his daughter had disgraced herself and the family in this way was unspeakable; that Hyacinth had allowed things to come to such a pass was infuriating. Most of all, his anger was directed at himself, for not putting his foot down years ago.

They entered the apartment, and with a trembling hand, Hyacinth took out the key and unlocked the door to her daughter’s room.

“Opal?”

The window stood wide open. Their daughter was not there.

______________________________________________________

CHAPTER 45

On his way out of the ballroom after leaving Bergil with his aunt, it occurred to Pippin that if someone had attacked Danulf and stolen the horses, it might be a useful thing to have a sword in hand. He detoured to his room to fetch it, and after a second’s thought, popped next door to bring Merry his sword as well.

As he came out of Merry’s room bearing his cousin’s sword and scabbard, he heard feet pounding up the passage towards him, and he spun, sword out.

Reggie came to an abrupt halt. It was his first encounter with warrior trained reflexes. He hoped it would be his last.

“Stars above! Pippin, what are you doing with your sword?”

Quickly and briefly, he explained, and then turned to hurry away.

“Wait!” said Reggie. He had gone pale.

“What is it?” asked Pippin, impatient to get to the encampment and see what was going on.

“Opal has run away. She went out her window, and is gone. If there is someone out there attacking people--”

Pippin got the point immediately. “Come with me, Reggie. We’ll need to let them know that she may be out there.” Even if she did not encounter Danulf’s assailant, they would be searching, and she might end up hurt by mistake.

______________________________________________________

Men and hobbits arrived in haste at the encampment, to find Legolas and Gimli watching over Danulf’s prone form. Éothain bent by his Man’s side, clearly worried.

“His breathing and his pulse are steady,” the Elf reassured him.

“He had time to draw his sword,” said Gimli, “but I do not see signs of a fight.”

Targon nodded. He’d noticed that as well.

Just then Merry rushed up, with Poppy and Lavender in tow. The two healers went immediately to their patient. Viola came running up an instant later with Poppy’s satchel.

Poppy took out a small bottle, opened it and held it in front of his nose. He gave a bit of a sneeze, and then spoke.

It sounded like gibberish to the healer.

“What did he say?” asked Poppy.

“He asked ‘what happened’ in Rohirric,” said Éothain. He spoke back briefly in the same tongue.

“I am sorry,” said Danulf in Westron, trying to sit up.

“Lie still,” ordered Poppy. “You took a blow to the head. You may speak only if you don’t move.”

“The horses were frightened. I drew my sword?” He tried to shake his head, but the movement was too painful. “I do not know what happened.”

“I do,” said Frodo grimly. He stooped down and picked up the rock his sharp eyes had spotted. He grimaced at the sight of blood on it. He looked at Paladin, who had been standing out of the way, concern writ large on his face.

“You do know this means that it was a hobbit that did this?”

The Thain nodded. He should have known things were going too well. He exchanged a look with Saradoc. If they could not clear this up soon, all the good work accomplished by the Ball would be for nothing.

Legolas and Frodo began to look about the encampment. They found more rocks near the place where the horses had been picketed.

“The horses were not stolen. They were driven off.” Legolas threw back his head, and issued a piercing whistle, that carried far out over the night.

Out over the Green Hills Arod tossed his head. His Elf wanted him. He reared and turned, running swiftly back the way he came. The other horses followed.

Back at the campsite, Pippin and Reggie came running up. Pippin silently handed Merry his sword. Merry strapped it on without comment. Reggie stood there puffing; he needed to catch his breath.

Pippin turned to Paladin. “Father, Opal is out there. Apparently she climbed out her window and ran away. If whoever did this is still out there--” Pippin was still of a mind that it might somehow be ruffians.

“No, I don’t think so,” said Merry. “We think it was a hobbit. Whoever it was did it all by throwing rocks.”

Pippin did not find this a relief, but it was reassuring as far as Opal was concerned.

Éothain looked up from where he sat watching Poppy bandage Danulf’s head. “But she is out there where frightened horses are running free.”

Legolas and Frodo were still searching the ground around the perimeter of the camp. Suddenly the Elf gave a triumphant cry and stooped to the ground. Frodo darted to his side, to see what he had found.

Legolas held out his hand. Two shiny brass buttons, obviously torn from some hobbit’s nice evening jacket.

“Very well,” said Targon. “We need to send a party out to search for the horses, and for this lass you say has run away,” he wondered briefly what would cause a hobbit lass to run away from home, but it was none of his business. “We will take charge of that.”

Paladin looked at Reggie. “I think that some of us hobbits should accompany the search. Opal is likely to be fearful if Men find her. But we also need to find the culprit.” He paused a moment, his mind working.

“Frodo, I’d like you, with Pippin and Merry, to return to the ballroom and begin to make inquiries. We need to know who is missing these buttons. The rest of us will go with the search parties.”

“What do you want us to do with the culprit, Father?” asked Pippin.

“I will leave that up to your judgment. Targon, you will have myself, Saradoc, Reginard, and Samwise to help you with your search.”

Lavender looked up. “Poppy has her patient well in hand. I will go with you as well. You may be needing the services of a healer.”

Poppy nodded. “You may take Viola with you as well.”

“Very well,” said Targon. “Éothain, if you would allow your Men to be under my command? I know that you will wish to stay with Danulf.”

Legolas put in “Arod is likely returning, and if I know aught of horses, the rest will be with him. We need to concentrate on finding the little one.”

Targon turned to his Men, who had been quietly awaiting orders. “Borondir, if you would, please see to torches for everyone.”

Frodo, Merry and Pippin made their way back to the Smials, to the ballroom, buttons in Frodo’s hand.

_____________________________________________

CHAPTER 46

In the ballroom, Fredegar sat with Estella, Rose and Marigold, as they anxiously awaited word of what happened. Only a few of the truly determined were still attempting to dance; the attendees had broken up into various small groups, talking and speculating. Fredegar wished he had gone with the others to the encampment, but he had decided that he could not allow the lasses to be completely abandoned.

They looked up to see Angelica Baggins approaching. Freddy stood up with a little bow and yielded his seat to her. Estella raised her eyebrows. Freddy was always polite, but not usually with quite so much alacrity. Well, well, well.

Freddy introduced her to Marigold and Rose, whom Angelica had known by sight but had never met. She and Estella were somewhat acquainted already through their mutual friend Melilot Brandybuck.

Estella was pleased to note that Angelica acknowledged the introductions with no sign of condescension. Estella quite liked Rosie and Mari, and was prepared to bristle on their behalf.

They talked a bit about the evening, trying to avoid the questions uppermost in their minds. Freddy and Rose explained as best they could the meaning of some of the titles that the guests of honor had received. Angelica began to have some vague notion of what Frodo must have endured. She blushed to think how presumptuous she had been. She should never have listened to her father on this. But she did not regret her conversation with Frodo. She would never forget it.

Just then, Frodo, Pippin and Merry re-entered the ballroom. All eyes went up to them. Freddy noticed immediately that Merry and Pippin were wearing their swords, which they had not been when they left.

Frodo and Pippin descended the stairs and went to speak to Eglantine.

Merry stood on the landing, and his eyes roamed the room, observing the various groups. He was looking for some type of behavior that would clue him in. Over there, by the sideboard with the ale. Clovis and Cado Banks seemed to be sharing a private little joke. Merry’s eyes narrowed, and he studied them more closely. No, wait. Surely it could not be this easy. Aha!

Grimly he descended the stairs. The look on his face deterred the curious from approaching him.

The Banks brothers, more than a bit tipsy, were having a secret celebration of their cleverness. They did not even see Merry until he stood in front of them. He backed them up against the sideboard.

They paled at the sight of his grim and menacing smile.

“Hullo, Clovis. What happened to your buttons?”

Clovis cast an involuntary look down at his jacket, and his eyes widened in panic.

The brothers tried to scramble away, but Merry shot out a hand and grabbed a fistful of Clovis’ shirtfront. He pulled Clovis forward and brought his knee up sharply into his groin. Clovis let out a yell and Merry let go. He sank to the floor moaning.

Cado was trying to get away, but Merry was too quick for him. He held him up as he had his brother. Merry could feel Frodo and Pippin pulling at him, but he paid no attention.

“Merry, what are you doing?” yelled Frodo.

Merry’s knee shot up again, and he flung Cado away.

“Keeping a promise,” he answered with satisfaction.

He turned to see Frodo and Pippin staring at him, appalled. “Frodo, you will find a match for those buttons on Clovis’ jacket.”

His eyes met Eglantine’s. She smiled. “Well done, Merry.”

Throughout the room was silence, broken only by the moans of the brothers. Hobbits stared in shock, looking at one another in amazement, wondering what had caused this violence.

Across the room, Clodio gaped. He could not summon up the indignation he needed to confront anyone on his sons’ behalf. All he could do was to wonder what the foolish wretches had done now. This could not bode well for him. Beryl was sobbing into his shoulder; he absent-mindedly patted her on the head, and wondered what would go wrong next.

Dago Bracegirdle edged his way unnoticed out of the ballroom. If he hurried, he could be back in Hardbottle by morning, collect his profits from their hiding place, and head out of the Shire by way of Sarn Ford. Hopefully it would take a few days for the assembly to realize he had gone. Thank goodness he was not hampered by a wife and children like poor Clodio. Dago wished he had never heard of Sackville-Baggins or Sharkey.

“Eglantine,” said Frodo, “we need to find out exactly what these two were up to, and why.”

“Why don’t you escort them to the Thain’s study? You can question them there.”

Frodo and Pippin helped the Bankses to their feet. They flinched if Merry came near them. Frodo looked at Merry reproachfully, but Merry was unrepentant. “I daresay I didn’t harm them half so much as they deserved,” he said, almost regretfully.

The assembled hobbits watched them leave the room, speculation on many faces, fear on a few. Estella’s face was thoughtful, and her eyes were troubled.

________________________________________________________

The stars gave Legolas plenty of light as he moved through the fields, his Elven eyes alert for any sign; about twenty feet to his right, Gimli was also searching, and about the same distance to his left was Samwise, accompanied by the little apprentice healer. Just a few moments before, they had been hopeful. He had come across a bit of cloth caught upon a bramble. It was possible that it had torn from her skirt. They were searching even more slowly and carefully now.

“Legolas! Sam! I have found her!”

Legolas darted to Gimli’s side, to see him kneeling by the small battered form.

The Dwarf looked up at his friend. “Oh, the poor wee lass,” he said.

It was hard to recognize her as the lass who had been so impertinent to him a few days before. He put a hand out to her. “She lives. Gimli, mellon nin, once more you have saved a hobbit’s life.”

Sam and Viola were instantly at their side. Viola began to examine her. “One of you needs to fetch Mistress Lavender and the others.” Sam darted off.

“She has had a blow to her head, and her legs are broken. I think she has broken ribs as well. What could have happened to her?”

Legolas pointed to the hoof marks in the ground around her. “I think she had an encounter with the runaway horses. It is a miracle she was not trampled. I think she must have somehow been kicked aside instead.”

Sam came running back. Targon, Paladin, Reggie and Lavender on his heels. “The others are on their way, too,” he puffed.

At the sight of his daughter, Reggie gave a great cry of grief, and would have launched himself upon her if Paladin and Sam had not restrained him. Oh, this was all his fault! If only he had been more of a father to her, none of this need have happened!

“Steady, now, Mr. Reggie,” said Sam. “Let the healer do her work.”

Paladin hugged his sobbing cousin tightly.

The other searchers soon converged on the spot, and watched Lavender and Viola as they looked at their patient.

“I cannot do anything for her in this spot. But we need to move her very carefully indeed, with no jostling. She has three broken ribs, and none of them seem to have pierced a lung, but if we don’t move her with utmost care, that could change. We also need to be careful with her legs. The left leg is a clean break, but I very much fear that the bone in the right leg may be shattered. The blow to her head is not much more serious than that to the Man Danulf, but I do not want to wake her up. She will be in great pain when I do.”

“Would a sling work?” asked Targon, as he removed his surcoat.

Moving very carefully, Lavender directed the Men as they gently lay the lass’s broken body upon the surcoat. Targon and Borondir took it up at either end very slowly, and they began to head back, moving cautiously. Anwynd took a torch and went directly in front, to warn them of any roughness of the ground.

“I think,” said Lavender, as she walked along with one hand on the patient, “that we should go directly to the Smials where I can treat her in her own bed.”

Paladin nodded. He was supporting the still distraught Reggie, who walked along in a daze. “Someone should let them know we are coming, and I suppose they should notify her mother and sisters.”

“I’ll go,” said Saradoc.

________________________________________________

As they escorted the hobbling Clovis and Cado into Paladin’s study, Pippin turned to Merry.

“What did you think you were doing in there?”

Merry’s eyes flashed. “I told these two ten years ago that if they ever put a toe out of line again that I knew about, I would do my very best to see that they did not pass their stupidity on to another generation. I don’t think I succeeded. They will probably recover. Besides, Uncle Paladin gave us authority to deal with them.”

Frodo turned to his cousin. “I think you might have let us know what you suspected. I wish you had not acted on your own. And I certainly do not think that little display was what Paladin had in mind.”

Merry shrugged. “I think they will at least be cooperative.” Frodo and Pippin continued to stare at him. He sighed. “All right, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first. But would you have let me do it if I had?”

“No.” said both his cousins at the same time.

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

Pippin rolled his eyes, and Frodo sighed. Then all three cousins turned to the brothers, who shrank at the sudden attention.

Frodo held his hand out, and displayed the shiny buttons that had so obviously come from Clovis’ jacket. “Do you want to tell me about these?” he asked gently. He lifted his blue eyes to stare at them sadly and their hearts sank. Those eyes would see through any lie they cared to tell.

And somehow, they did not think they could avoid telling the truth either.

_________________________________________________

Alone in the apartment, Hyacinth paced in a fury. The stupid little chit, to steal in the first place, and then to run away. She was going to bring nothing but disgrace to the family. Maybe Reggie would not find her. That would probably be the best thing all around. Still, there would be talk. There was always talk.

Why did everything always go wrong? Her life had seemed so promising, when she married Reggie, knowing he was next in line after Paladin. But then Peregrin was born, and everything had gone wrong since.  If only she had known, she'd never have married Reggie in the first place.

CHAPTER 47

When Saradoc entered the ballroom, all eyes turned in his direction. Maybe some answers would be forthcoming now. He scanned the room for Eglantine.

_____________________________________________________

They had placed Danulf in Éothain’s cot in the captains’ tent, and his commander sat by him. Poppy watched her patient drift off to sleep.

“It does not appear that there are any complications. I think that it is a simple blow to the head. However, we will not take any chances. Wake him up every two hours. Ask him some simple questions: who is he; where is he; hold up some fingers and ask how many he sees. If he is thirsty, let him have small sips of water. If there is any sort of change in his condition, or if you are unable to awaken him, send for me at once.”

Éothain nodded. All this sounded very familiar. He had seen such head injuries before.

“I thank you for your care of him, Mistress Poppy.” He smiled at her; good healers were much the same everywhere, he had found, whether they be Man, Elf or Hobbit, male or female, King or commoner. This one seemed to be quite good, and he was grateful for that.

“I will not say it is a pleasure, for such a thing should not have happened. I find it hard to understand how a hobbit could have come to do such a dreadful thing. We are not generally a violent people. But I am very glad that I was here and able to help.”

Just then, they heard the sounds of footsteps approaching the encampment. Éothain tensed briefly, placing his hand to his sword, but he soon recognized that it was some of the Men returning.

Leodwald entered the tent. “Milord, we’ve found the missing one. She has been grievously injured by flying hooves. They are taking her up to the Smials; the other healer has asked that Mistress Poppy attend if she is able to leave Danulf.”

Poppy nodded, and left swiftly.

“You look troubled, Leodwald.” said his commander.

“I once saw a young child that had been kicked by a horse in Edoras. He was larger and sturdier than this little holbyltla, and less badly hurt. Yet he did not live.”

“Ah,” Éothain nodded. “Yet I would not despair, Leodwald. You know well that the holbyltla are a great deal tougher than they look, and much harder to kill than anyone would suspect.”

_____________________________________________________

Hyacinth jerked open the door, irritated. It could not be one of the family, since they would not knock.

It was Pearl. She had Amethyst and Garnet with her. They all looked troubled, and it appeared that Garnet, at least, had been weeping. She looked at her daughters angrily.

“Well, what have you done now?”

Her daughters burst into tears, and Pearl grew angry. “They have not ‘done’ anything, Cousin Hyacinth. We came to tell you that Opal has been found. She is seriously hurt, and they are bringing her here now. Mother thought that you might like a bit of warning.”

Hyacinth blanched. One trouble after another. And she would be saddled with a hurt child. What else could go wrong?

Just then, they heard the sounds of a heavy tread in the corridor, and turned to see the searchers approaching with their sad burden.

Targon and Borondir were moving very carefully, their heads very nearly brushing the ceiling. They had to duck very carefully to enter the low doorway; Anwynd reached out and placed a steadying hand on the sling they had made of the Gondorian captain’s surcoat.

They entered, and looked questioningly. Hyacinth said nothing, but grew even paler at the sight of her daughter’s battered form. Pearl directed them to Opal’s room. Lavender and Viola followed.

Paladin came in, still supporting Reggie, who looked as if he had never even seen his own home before. Hyacinth rounded on them, ready to scold her husband for anything she could think of to relieve her tension. The look on the Thain’s face stopped her cold.

Legolas, Gimli and Sam had remained in the passageway. “I think I’m going to find Mr. Frodo,” said Sam.

“We will come with you,” said Gimli. They did not need to be intruding on this family crisis.

_________________________________________________

Saradoc’s arrival had marked the end of the Ball. He gave only brief information, and promised that more would be forthcoming on the morrow, at the assembly. Gradually the clusters of guests began to take their leave.

The Bolgers were among the first to go. Freddy embraced his parents, and then his sister. Estella had been uncommonly quiet.

He knew what was troubling her. “My dear, don’t doubt him. I know he must have had a good reason for what he did.”

She did not speak, but clung to her brother, trembling. He patted her on the back, and kissed the top of her head.

As he watched her leave with his parents, he murmured “Merry, my friend, I do hope you had a very good reason indeed.”

Across the room, he saw Angelica and her father making their way out. She seemed to be berating old Ponto over something. So she has a temper? He would try to stay on her good side, if he could. He turned to tell Marigold and Rose that he would escort them back to their room, when the look on Rose’s face told him that Sam, at least, had returned. Sam, Legolas and Gimli came over.

“Hullo, Rosie.” She stepped into the circle of his arms, yet even as he gently held her close, his eyes scanned the room. “Where’s Mr. Frodo? And Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin?”

“They came in a short while ago. There was a bit of a confrontation with the Banks brothers, and then Eglantine sent them all off to the Thain’s study. What was that all about?”

Briefly they described the attack on the Men’s camp, and the injuries to Danulf and to Opal, and the finding of the buttons. “Thain Paladin sent them back here to see if they could discover the culprit,” said Legolas.

“Banks?” asked Sam, “Mr. Pippin’s cousins?”

Freddy nodded.

“What did Mr. Merry do to them?”

Freddy described the incident. Sam grinned. “Sam, how did you know it was Merry? I didn’t say so at first.”

Legolas and Gimli chuckled. Sam shook his head. “Now, Mr. Freddy, don’t you remember what they did to Mr. Pippin?”

“But that was ten years ago!”

“Wouldn’t make no never mind to Mr. Merry if he thought they did that business tonight as well, which it sounds to me like they must’ve. Well, we can’t interrupt them right now.” He looked down at Rose, who was leaning silently against him, and glanced at his sister, who was stifling a yawn. “That being the case, I’m going to see the lasses to their room, and then go on to my own room. It’s not good to be underfoot when important folk have to see to things; and it sounds like it might be Took family business as well, which they won’t need no one else sticking their noses in.”

Clodio found himself in a dilemma. He wanted nothing better than to take his leave, but with his sons being taken off like that, he didn’t dare. It had not escaped his notice that Bracegirdle had made himself scarce.

But he did not dare leave without knowing what his sons had done. He kept wondering how much of his business he had talked about in front of them.

Just then one of the servants came up and spoke softly to Eglantine. She nodded and spoke to Saradoc. They both looked in Clodio’s direction. His heart sank. Eglantine crooked a finger at Pervinca. Then the three of them came over.

“Clodio, you need to accompany Saradoc to the Thain’s study. Pervinca, will you please look after your Aunt Beryl? I have to stay here till all the guests have gone.”

And Clodio found himself going off with the Master of Buckland, whose son had assaulted his sons, and who did not seem at all disposed to answer his questions. They entered Paladin’s study. Clovis and Cado were seated on a long settee, looking dejected. Frodo, Merry and Pippin looked grim.

Frodo looked at Saradoc as he came in. “Uncle Sara, I think that we will need Paladin here. This is definitely going to be Thain’s business; even if he did say we could deal with it, I would feel better if he were here. It’s far more serious than we thought.”

Clodio had thought he could not get much more frightened. He discovered he was wrong.

_____________________________________________

Poppy joined Lavender and Viola in Opal’s room. After a brief consultation, she examined Opal herself.

“I think you are right, Lavender. We can set the left leg. But I am afraid the right leg is damaged beyond our skill. It will probably have to come off.”

Viola blanched. She had never yet had to deal with such a procedure.

Lavender sighed. “I was afraid of that. You will talk to the parents?”

_____________________________________________________

CHAPTER 48

As the last few guests filed out, Eglantine breathed in a sigh of relief. She looked up to see Pippin.

“Mother, we need to find the Thain.” he said somberly.

That he said “Thain” and not “Father” was telling. What had Clodio and his sons done?

“Come along. He’s in Reggie’s apartment. That’s where they’ve taken Opal. Saradoc told you she was injured?”

He nodded glumly. “From what he said, it seems it’s better to be crushed by a troll than kicked by a horse.” There was no trace of humor in his tone at all, but the description of his cousin’s injuries conjured memories of his own.

Targon, Borondir and Anwynd were standing watch in the corridor. “Mistress Took, Sir Peregrin, we were hoping to take word of the lass’s condition ere we returned to camp,” said the Gondorian captain. He held his surcoat over his arm; there were bloodstains on the white tree.

Pippin nodded. “I will let you know as soon as I find something out. It is good of you to be concerned.”

They entered, and saw Paladin with a white-faced Reggie on the settee. Hyacinth was seated like a statue across the room. From the direction of the small private kitchen, they could hear Pearl making tea, and the sobs of Opal’s sisters.

The door to Opal’s room opened, and Lavender and Poppy came out, looking shaken and serious. They had left Viola with the patient, to watch her and to alert them if there were any changes in her condition.

Pippin knew he needed to take his father to Frodo, but he could not have torn himself away at this moment for anything.

Poppy took a deep breath. “We have strapped her ribs, and set her left leg. We are watching the head injury carefully, but we decided against bringing her back to consciousness, as she will be in severe pain. Barring shock or infection, she will probably live. However, both of us--” she looked at Lavender who nodded, “are agreed that nothing can be done for the right leg. There is no way to set it, it is broken in too many places. If it heals without being set, she will be in severe pain from it for the rest of her life. We feel that the best course of action is to remove the leg below the knee.”

Reggie made a sound as though someone had given him a severe blow to the stomach.

Hyacinth gave a shriek. “She’ll be disfigured! A cripple! Her prospects will be *ruined*! You can’t do that!” Her hysterics were cut short by a sharp slap from Eglantine.

Reggie stood up, furious. “Her *prospects*? At a time like this, you think about her *prospects*? Wife, you are the most cold-hearted hobbit I have ever had the misfortune to know!”

“Cold!” screamed Hyacinth. “You have the nerve to call me cold, when you haven’t touched me since--” suddenly, the light dawned. Realization bloomed in her eyes and she looked at him fearfully.

“Since the day I heard you wish Peregrin dead in his cradle! Since the day I knew you had only married me because was in line for the Thainship! Since the day I realized you had no heart at all!”

Stunned silence. Pippin found himself breathing deeply to control his nausea. He had known she didn’t like him--but to wish him dead? When he was only a babe?

“This is all very enlightening,” cut in Poppy’s matter-of-fact tone, “but the more important thing at the moment is Opal. What is your decision?”

“No!” shouted Hyacinth.

Reggie looked at the healers, his face bleak and haggard. “You are both agreed that this course of action is what is best for her?”

“The bone is shattered. There is no way to set it,” said Lavender.

Poppy nodded.

“Then as her father, I give you permission to do what you feel is best. Please be right.” Tears slid silently down his face.

Hyacinth stared at him in shock. He had never defied her before. Never. Reggie refused to look at her.

Paladin did.

“Hyacinth, I find I have a viper in my nest. Because of Opal, I will not turn you out tonight. But by this time tomorrow you will be gone from the Great Smials.”

“You can’t do that!”

“I can, and I do. I suggest you take yourself to your room. I do not wish to set eyes on you again.” He turned to Reggie. “Reggie, if you wish to disavow her, I will be willing to dissolve the marriage.”

Reggie looked at him, realization dawning. “I may take you up on that. But I can’t think about it right now.” He looked at Poppy. “Should I be with her when--when you do it?”

Poppy shook her head. “I think I need to prepare a calming draught for you. You may wait here.” She looked at Hyacinth, who was trembling. “Do you need a draught as well?”

Hyacinth just stared at her, and then fled to her room and slammed the door.

There was a tapping at the apartment door. Paladin opened it. It was Reggie’s brother Everard and his wife Sage. “Come in, Evvie. Reg needs you tonight.”

“Father,” said Pippin, still shaken by Hyacinth’s revelation, “I came to get you. Frodo says we need you.”

He nodded. Eglantine stood up. “I’m coming, too.”

___________________________________________________

In Paladin’s study, silence reigned. Merry paced back and forth; Saradoc leaned against the fireplace; Frodo sat on the edge of the Thain’s desk, his blue eyes focused on the three seated before him. Clovis and Cado squirmed; their father simply sat, miserably, trying not to be sick. One look in the Baggins’ eyes, and he had blurted out everything. He was ruined. What would Paladin do with him?

The door opened, and Paladin and Eglantine came in, followed by Pippin. Clodio looked up hopefully at the sight of his sister. “Thank goodness, Egg, you can tell them--”

“Don’t *call* me that,” she said through clenched teeth. He sat back, defeated. She would never forgive him now.

“Frodo, do you care to tell me what this is about? I did give you authority to deal with this situation.” Paladin glared at his brother-in-law.

“Paladin, it appears that Clovis and Cado attacked the camp in the hopes of disrupting the assembly, and keeping the King’s decree from being ratified.”

“For goodness’ sake, why?”

“Because you and I are supposed to investigate all of Lotho’s business dealings with Saruman.”

He looked at Clodio with loathing. “You were a *collaborator*?”

“Worse,” said Frodo sadly. “It seems that Lotho would never have been able to even start his shady dealings without the sizable investment made in his business by Clodio Banks and Dago Bracegirdle. They were instrumental in Lotho’s takeover from the very beginning; and even worse, they were motivated solely by profit. There were apparently later on a few more ‘investors’, but they were coerced by threats of harm to their families.”

Eglantine moved over to stare her brother in the face. “I knew there was some reason you suddenly tried to reconcile after all these years. It was all a sham, to protect you from investigation. And then you put your sons on to attacking that camp. They nearly *killed* two people! One of them a mere lass!”

The brothers looked at one another in puzzlement. They did not yet know about Opal.

“But I didn’t know they were going to do that. They came up with it all on their own!” Clodio was very nearly whining.

Paladin looked at him with loathing. “And if they had been successful in ruining the best hope the Shire has of recovering from the Troubles, you would have gleefully praised their cleverness, instead of trying to lay all the blame for it their way when it went wrong!” He sank into the chair behind his desk wearily. He felt besieged by traitors. Hobbits were not supposed to be this way. Eglantine moved behind him, and lay her hand upon his shoulder. Pippin did the same, trying to give him the silent support of his family. He looked up at his wife. “He is your brother.”

She shook her head. “He is not, not from this moment. Whoever this person may be, I will no longer acknowledge him as family of mine.”

“It is nearly morning. Assembly starts at noon, and all of us need rest. Merry and Pippin, I would like you to escort these three to the Men’s encampment. Tell them that we give them these culprits for their King’s justice.”

Clodio fainted.

______________________________________________________

CHAPTER 49

It was nearly dawn when Merry and Pippin made their way back to the Smials after delivering the prisoners with the assistance of Targon, Borondir and Anwynd. When they had arrived at the campsite, they had found Legolas there, soothing Arod, who had returned with the rest of the horses. Merry took a few moments to speak to Éothain, and check on Danulf’s condition--it was much improved, and the last time he had been awakened he had indicated that he was hungry, always a good sign.

No one was yet astir as they crept to their rooms. Pippin opened the door to his, and stopped. “Psst, Merry!” he hissed. Merry came up behind him and looked in with a smile. Bergil was sound asleep in the bed; Esmeralda was in a chair next to the bed, sound asleep, with the young boy’s hand in hers.

“I don’t want to wake them,” Pippin whispered.

“You can come in with me, of course.”

They tiptoed into the room and Pippin drew a folded coverlet from the foot of the bed. He handed it to Merry, who gently draped it around his mother. Then they silently backed out and closed the door.

In Merry’s room, they helped one another out of their armor, and then flopped, still dressed on top of the bed.

As exhausted as he was, Pippin could not sleep.

“What’s wrong, Pip?” Merry propped himself up on one elbow to look into his cousin’s troubled green eyes.

“Merry, she wished me dead, and I’d only just been born! And Clovis and Cado--they never meant that apology at all.”

Merry sighed sadly. “I never thought they had, Pip.”

“You know, Merry, a lot of bad things happened to us on our journey--scary things, horrible things, painful things. But in a different kind of way, this hurts worse than any of that. Kin, Merry, kin should not be that way! They were my first cousins, too, but they’ve never cared anything at all about me. I mean, I never could have been as fond of them as I am of you and Frodo, but I did try. I would have been friends with them if they had let me.”

“I know you tried, Pip.” It was one reason Merry’s anger had burned so long. One of the goads they had used to dupe Pippin into that dangerous dare had been saying “You’d do it fast enough for Merry. You like him better than us.”

“And Hyacinth! Merry, she was worse than Denethor! At least he cared about his sons; it’s not what I’d call love, but at least he cared. She doesn’t care about her daughters at all. Poor Opal. To have her leg off--we’ve seen that Merry, how hard that is for big Men and warriors to have a leg or arm off. And she’s only a lass, and younger than I am. And all her mother could do was scream about ‘prospects’.”

Merry nodded; that bothered him, too.

“But all these years, Hyacinth wished I was dead, and I never knew. I used to feel bad because I didn’t much like her--and all that time she hated me--poor Uncle Reggie.”

The green eyes finally overflowed, and Merry held him until they closed into sleep.

Poor Pip. He cared so much, and tried so hard to see the best in everyone. It was hard to come up against people who had no best. Merry turned against his cousin’s side, and eased into sleep himself.

________________________________________________

It was done. The grisly business was over. Viola was exhausted, but she had managed to remain calm and helpful, and not disgrace herself by being sick. Mistress Poppy and Mistress Lavender had complimented her on the way she had kept her composure.

Now she wanted nothing more than to go somewhere quiet and have a good cry. When she had started out to be a healer, she had known that there would be some hard things, but this had been one of the hardest ever. Poor Opal. She was the same age. Her life would never be the same.

But the good cry would have to wait. Right now, she had to sit with the patient, while the healers cleaned up. And it wouldn’t do for the patient to awaken and find her in tears.

__________________________________________________

Targon and Éothain looked at the three miserable hobbits huddled in the corner of the tent. The hobbits flinched anytime anyone glanced their way. They were clearly terrified, and the two envoys found themselves feeling sorry for their prisoners, even though they knew the pity was undeserved.

“What are we going to do with them?” asked Éothain.

“I do not really know. We are going to have to do some swift thinking, my friend. We need to have an answer before this assembly of hobbits this afternoon.”

_______________________________________________________

After Merry and Pippin had escorted the Bankses away, Paladin and Eglantine had gone to check on Reggie and Opal, and then seek a few hours of sleep before they had to prepare for the assembly.

Frodo and Saradoc remained in the Thain’s study. Saradoc took out his pipe. “I’m very proud of you, Frodo.” He puffed a bit. “This evening can’t have been easy for you, but you handled it very well.”

Frodo lit his own pipe and leaned back thoughtfully in his chair. “Aside from the introduction,” he shrugged, “I was actually beginning to enjoy myself a little. It was a pleasant surprise. I was not at all sure I was still capable of enjoyment.” He sighed. “And then Clovis and Cado had to pull their little trick.”

“You handled the responsibility well--unlike my son. I am going to have to have a word with him.” Saradoc was most unhappy with the way Merry had used the authority Paladin had given him.

Frodo shook his head. “He’s lived with that particular anger for ten years. And you know Merry. Once he has a plan, all he needs is an excuse to carry it out. The only reason it didn’t happen sooner is they were canny enough to avoid him altogether. It’s a shame they didn’t keep that in mind tonight.”

Saradoc sighed. “I’ve no doubt they deserved it. But it was still very unwise.”

“Oh, as to that, I completely agree. Pippin and I both made our feelings clear on that, though Pip may have changed his mind after what happened to Opal. I’m afraid all this is very distressing for Pip.” Frodo shook his head. The pain in his youngest cousin’s eyes was very obvious when he had left.

“Yes,” said Saradoc, “Pippin, I am afraid, is as soft-hearted as ever.”

“Say great-hearted, Uncle Sara, and you will be nearer the mark. But he feels very betrayed, as do Paladin and Eglantine.”

“It’s a very bad business all the way around. What do you think the Men will do to them?”

“I am not sure. The justice of Men is much harder and less flexible than that of hobbits. I do not believe they will be executed, or I would not have allowed them to be turned over. But,” he smiled grimly, “it will not hurt them to think that they might be. I am glad that the truth is out, at least, painful as it is. In a way, this business makes me feel somewhat better about some things.”

Saradoc leaned forward. “Better, Frodo?”

“I had got into the habit of thinking that all the evils in the Shire were because of the Ring, because of Saruman, and so in a way, my fault. But I see now it’s not so. This had nothing to do with the Ring.”

“No, Frodo, it did not. This had to do with greed and selfishness and a seeking of power. The Sackville-Baggins were nasty people long before Bilbo got that Ring, and Banks and Bracegirdle wanted nothing more than a large and quick profit. Those are not common failings among hobbits, but they are there nonetheless.”

Frodo sighed. “Among Men, they are all too common, yet it does not seem nearly so grievous as to find such traits among our kind.” He looked up. “The Sun is making Her way through the window. I suppose we had better get some rest.”

_______________________________________________

Sam sat up and looked at the Sun peeking through the trees outside his window. It had been a strange night, no doubt about it. Wonderful and terrible in turns. He remembered dancing with Rosie, more beautiful than ever in her pink dress. And hearing them say all those great and wonderful things about Mr. Frodo. It was a crying shame that those Bankses had ruined it all. He hoped the poor little Took lass would be all right.

But this was another day.

Just then he remembered something. He grinned.

“Proper.” he said. “Proper, proper, proper.” The week was up. He’d done it.

CHAPTER 50

The hobbits who were beginning to gather in the great pavilion just after elevenses were a mostly tired and bedraggled looking bunch. None of them had much sleep after the Ball was over.

Speculation was rampant. The large question on everyone’s mind was the whereabouts of the Bankses. The news was beginning to get about that Clodio’s sons had attacked the Men for some unknown reason, which was the reason young Meriadoc had reacted so violently. Word had also begun to pass that Reginard Took’s youngest was seriously ill, and that he would not be attending. A very few people were wondering where Dago Bracegirdle was. Overriding it all was fear of what those Men might do since they had been attacked. They had been pleasant and polite enough at the Ball, but that was before the attack and one of them getting hurt.

Polo Bunce and Milo Burrows found themselves besieged with questions. But Polo had learned through long experience not to discuss his wife’s patients, and Milo had not seen his cousin Poppy since she had left the Ball.

Merimac also found himself cornered by people wanting to know what all that business with Merry and the Banks lads had been about. But all he would say was “Meriadoc had a good reason. It will be told when the assembly starts.”

As noon neared, the hobbits began to take their seats on the long benches placed in the pavilion. The benches faced a large table with three chairs placed at one end. Also next to the table were two very large folding chairs brought over from the Men’s encampment.

Precisely at noon, Frodo, Paladin and Saradoc entered and stood behind the table. All the muttering and whispering stopped.

“Good day, gentlehobbits,” said Paladin. “We thank you for coming. As all of you know, there are momentous decisions to be made for the sake of all the Shire, and we would have your advice and consent before making those decisions. Before we come to that however, there are other, no less urgent matters which must be dealt with. We will begin with the formalities. In one hour we will break for luncheon. Then we will resume, and work until teatime

One more thing: for a number of very good reasons that will soon become apparent, the three of us will *not* be representing our families during the discussions, though we will preside over the proceedings.

Let us now call on the heads of the families:

Took--”

Everard stood. “I speak for the Tooks.”

“Brandybuck--”

Merimac rose. “I speak for the Brandybucks.”

“Baggins--”

Ponto got to his feet. “I speak for the Baggins.”

“Bolger--”

Odovocar’s voice rang out. “I speak for the Bolgers.”

“Proudfoot,” “Goodbody,” “Hornblower,” “Burrows,” The names went on and on, to each one a hobbit rose and gave the ritual response.

“Banks--”

No response.

“Is there no one to speak for the Banks?”

Still no response. Of course no one expected one, everyone knew Clodio was not there, though few knew why.

“Brockhouse,” “Boffin,” “Bunce,” “Chubb,” “Grubb,” “Bracegirdle--”

Again there was no response. There was a bit more stir at this, as few had noticed he was not there, and no one had any idea why save the three at the table.

“Brownlock,” “Harfoot,” “Whitfoot,” “Cotman,” the roll call came to an end.

Paladin waited for a moment. Then he said “There are two families not represented here today, and we will now explain the reason. It will then fall to us to decide what to do about it.

Last night, as you are aware, the encampment of the Kings’ embassies was attacked. Some of you may know that the sons of Clodio Banks were responsible for this attack.

What you do not know is that they have confessed to their deed, and to the reason for their deed. They did it in the hopes that the King’s decree would not be ratified, and the reason for this was to avoid investigation into those who had dealings with Lotho Sackville-Baggins.”

There was a definite stir.

“It appears that Clodio Banks was a collaborator; he has confessed to this, and admitted that Dago Bracegirdle was also involved. He has confessed that they were worse than mere collaborators. It was their money and investments that made the actions of Lotho Sackville-Baggins possible, and they did so knowing full well what he planned to do.”

At this, several hobbits jumped angrily to their feet, demanding to know what had been done with the traitors.

For the first time, Frodo spoke. “Because they committed a crime against the embassies sent from the King, we turned them over to the envoys, that they might deal with them. We will now hear their decisions.”

From the back of the pavilion came three haggard hobbits, their hands bound, their heads down, followed by Targon and Éothain. The Men lined their prisoners up next to the table, and stood to face the hobbits.

Targon spoke first. “In Gondor, an attack on a peaceful embassy resulting in the injury or death of a member of that embassy would result in a sentence of death.” There was a shocked silence from the assembled hobbits, and a despairing groan from Clodio. “However, the person these hobbits injured was of Rohan, and not of Gondor. Therefore, Gondor has yielded to Rohan in this matter.”

Éothain stepped forth now. “In Rohan we would not execute the culprit unless they refused to yield the weregild. If they had killed Danulf, all their goods and properties would be forfeit to his family. However, since they only injured him, they are subject to either paying a fine or entering into servitude for a period of time. Since the Man they injured was a representative of Éomer King, it is he who should set their sentence, which would be greater than that of merely a private subject. Now it is our understanding that if hobbits of the Shire were to sentence them, it would be to a term of banishment from the Shire. Therefore, we shall take them to Éomer King in Edoras, and he shall set the sum of their weregild. This will take them out of the Shire, as if they had been banished, but will not leave them free to roam about the kingdoms and possibly cause more mischief.”

Many of the hobbits began to murmur among themselves, in seeming agreement with the fairness of this sentence, but Griffo Boffin jumped to his feet. “I don’t think it’s enough! They need to be Marked!” Several other hobbits nodded, and a few called out: “That’s right! It’s only fair they be Marked!”

For part of any hobbit sentence serious enough to call for banishment from the Shire was to be “Marked”, to have the crime of which he was guilty tattooed on the back of both hands.

“And with what would you Mark them?” asked Frodo.

“Traitor!” “That’s right: traitor!” This turned into a general outcry. The three prisoners went even whiter than before. Clodio began to sway, and Targon reached out a hand and steadied him. He didn’t want this hobbit fainting on him again.

Paladin looked at the envoys. “There seems to be a consensus that we will agree to your sentence if we are allowed to Mark them before they are taken away.”

Targon looked at Éothain; it was up to Rohan. He nodded. “Agreed. We will consent to this before we take them to Edoras.”

“Now,” said Paladin, “as to Dago Bracegirdle, he seems for the time being to have escaped. We will continue searching for him, and if he is found before the embassy leaves, he will be subject to the same sentence. If he is not, we shall have to deal with him ourselves.”

Saradoc leaned over and murmured something in Paladin’s ear.

“It is only a few moments until time for luncheon. Shall we go ahead and break now?”

Again there was some consultations among the various hobbits, and then several said “We agree.”

“Very well. We shall meet back in one hour, after luncheon.”

_________________________________________________

Primrose and Peridot came to Eglantine’s sitting room.

“You sent for us, Tina?” asked Primrose.

“Yes. I have a very unpleasant duty to ask of you. If you refuse, I shall understand, and then it will fall on Pearl. But I would rather have someone older and with a bit more, let us say, experience, deal with this.”

“What is it?” said Peridot. She noticed that her sister-in-law seemed more agitated than she had seen her since Pippin returned from his journey.

“For a number of very good and sufficient reasons, Paladin and I are banishing Hyacinth from the Great Smials. She is to be gone by tonight, and I would like you to see to it, as I do not trust myself in her presence. She will be going back to her people in Longneedle, the Brockhouses. Whether they will allow her to stay in the circumstances I do not know. There is a possibility that Reggie may disavow her.”

Primrose and Peridot gasped in shock. That was nearly unheard of, for one of a couple to disavow his or her spouse. It had only ever happened once in the Shire in their living memory. “Do you care to tell us why, Tina?” Primrose was perfectly willing to help get rid of the unpleasant Hyacinth, but this was a pretty drastic step to take just because she was a major pest.

Eglantine explained what had happened with Opal, and then described the scene the night before.

“Oh my word, Tina! No wonder you want her away from here. That explains a lot of things over the years!” Primrose began to see certain remarks in a different light.

“Will you do this for me?”

“With pleasure,” answered Peridot. Primrose nodded.

____________________________________________________

Reggie sat next to his daughter’s bed, her hand in his. She had begun to stir and whimper.

Poppy, who had been dozing lightly on a cot nearby, was at her side instantly.

“She is going to be suffering a great deal of pain when she regains consciousness. But we have to be cautious about giving her anything for it until we are certain that the head wound is not serious.”

Reggie nodded. He was exhausted.

“Why don’t you take the cot for a while?”

He shook his head. “I need to be here by her side if she wakes up.”

__________________________________________________

Merry and Pippin had awakened just before time for luncheon. They arose, and Pippin went to check in his room. Bergil and Esmeralda were gone, so he went in to wash up and dress, while Merry did the same in his room.

A large picnic luncheon was being served in the assembly field for the family representatives, but the two did not want to expose themselves to questions, so they went to one of the kitchens, found themselves some sandwiches, and took them out to the west garden.

Sam and Rosie were there, along with Freddie, Marigold, Legolas, Gimli, and Pimpernel and her husband, Milo. Little Flora and Alyssum played by their parents’ feet. They had also had the same idea, and were making a jolly picnic.

“Do you mind if we join you here?” asked Merry.

“Join right in,” said Pimmie.

“How are you, this morning, Sam?” said Pippin, as he picked up Alyssum.

“Why, Mr. Pippin,” Sam replied with a twinkle in his eye, “I’m feeling right *proper*. I had a *proper* night’s sleep, and two *proper* breakfasts. And I’m sitting here with right *proper* company.”

Everyone else laughed outright, but Merry and Pippin groaned. “We lost, Pip.”

“I know, Mer.” Pippin shook his head unbelievingly.

“How’s that, Mr. Merry? I know you wagered as to which of you could make me say it before the time was up, but the way I see it, if you both lost, then that cancels the wager.”

Gimli chuckled. “Aye, lad, but that was not the only wager going.”

Legolas grinned.

“We had a bet with Legolas and Gimli,” said Pippin. “They bet that you would be able to hold out the whole week. We should have listened to Frodo.”

“Well, now as to that, you know Mr. Frodo don’t hold with wagering. You don’t suppose he had another lesson in mind besides just mine, do you?”

___________________________________________

After much discussion, the two envoys and the three worthies of the Shire agreed that they would bring Rohan’s matter of reparations from Saruman to the assembly first. They thought that after the shocking news about the Bankses, a bit of good news would be welcome.

Thus it was that when the hobbits returned to the pavilion after a luncheon that had seen as much talk as eating, they noticed a black chest on the table. Paladin, Frodo and Saradoc were already seated behind the table. Targon and Éothain were also seated, in the chairs that had been brought over from their campsite. As the hobbits filed back in, they looked over curiously, wondering what was to come next.

Paladin stood and welcomed them back. “The next item of business takes some explanations. I think that Frodo is the best one to provide them.”

Frodo came to the front of the table and scanned the curious faces of the hobbits. “Some of you may know that the person whom you called ‘Sharkey’ was in actuality, once a Wizard by the name of Saruman…”

He went on to give a very brief description of Saruman’s betrayal of Rohan, not going into any great detail nor saying anything about the Ring, and told of how he had been stripped of his wizardly power by Gandalf, and how he had escaped from his imprisonment to make his way to the Shire.

“No one had any idea that he would come here, or that he had such evil plans for the Shire, or he would not have been allowed to continue his wanderings. Nonetheless, he made his way here, and we have had to suffer the results. However, thanks to Lotho, he had profited greatly already from the Shire before he ever came here.”

Éothain rose now, and explained how Saruman’s ill-gotten treasure had come to be in the hands of the Rohirrim, and what Éomer King proposed to do with it.

“We have set aside one fifth of his treasure as a weregild for the Shire, and have brought a token of that here.” He reached over and lifted the lid of the chest, and tilted it forward, so that they could see it was filled with gold.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

Merimac Brandybuck, who had known what was to come, spoke up finally. “You say this chest is just a token. How much more is there?”

Éothain smiled. “There are at least six more of these chests set aside, to be brought to the Shire when a strong enough guard may come with it, or if you so desire, we may bring one a year for the next six years. Or perhaps you may think of some other way that you wish this payment to come to you. It is only fitting that the one who despoiled you should provide the means to remedy his ills. Rest assured that the Shire is entitled to this. Our King and the High King are agreed on that .” Éothain gave a sharp nod, and resumed his seat.

Saradoc rose. “I would like to say that this alone should be enough to convince you of the good will held towards us by the Kings in the South. Is there to be any debate as to whether we will accept these reparations?”

Of course there was not. The cries of agreement rang out. The consensus was a foregone conclusion. Now the hard part began. How would they use this unexpected windfall?

As the hobbits got down to the business of where and how to use the coin, the two envoys took their leave. They would be sent for when they were needed again.

By teatime, the only two things that had so far been agreed to. One was that the money could be delivered annually, instead of in one large shipment. “Less dangerous that way,” had been Odovocar Bolger’s deciding comment. “That much gold in the Shire at one time might attract more ruffians than the King has Men to deal with.”

The other thing that had been agreed was that some of it could be used to finish rebuilding and restoring the inns that Lotho had torn down. So far the only inns operating were the ones in Tuckborough and The Green Dragon in Bywater. It had created a good deal of hardship over the last year for travellers in the Shire.

Paladin rose. “We have accomplished a good deal for the first day. We will end now, as it is almost teatime, and will resume tomorrow morning after second breakfast.”

The first day of the assembly was ended.

___________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 51

In the interlude between first and second breakfast, the three worthies had gone to Paladin’s study to consult with some Shire records.

Saradoc smiled with satisfaction. “That’s it, then, old Denham is the next in line for the Bankses. My, my, won’t he be surprised, after all these generations as bridge tenders.”

“So will a lot of other people,” said Paladin. “Aside from Brandybucks, this is the first headship to pass into Buckland. You must try not to look so smug about it, brother. You’ll put a lot of backs up with that expression.”

Saradoc laughed. “I’ll school my face before the assembly, never fear. At any rate, we need to send for him. I was thinking about sending Tip back with some messages for Berilac. He can take one to old Denham while he’s at it.”

Frodo sighed. “And it’s Uffo for the Bracegirdles,” he said solemnly.

“Not much choice there, lad. He’s the only male left in the Bracegirdle family.”

“I know.” His voice was sad.

Saradoc and Paladin refrained from say anything. They knew it was a sharp reminder to him of what was in store for the Bagginses in less than a generation.

“Well,” said the Thain briskly, “how about a bit of second breakfast? There’s going to be a lot of debate between now and elevenses, and rebuilding every inn and tavern in the Shire has yet to make much of a dent in all that gold.”

___________________________________________________________

Merry looked closely at his two sets of everyday livery. The sturdy green wool was beginning to fade a bit, and there were signs of wear and fraying in the places where it rubbed against his armor. He supposed he had been wearing it a bit too much. But he had gotten so accustomed to it. Time to seek out a seamstress and have a new set made. His dress livery, however, still looked like new.

There was a sharp rap on his door. “Come on in, Pip.”

“I came to see if you wanted to go down with me and take some breakfast with the Men? Bergil and Gimli have gone down already; Legolas, too, I would imagine.”

“Oh, I guess,” he replied glumly.

“My, aren’t you enthusiastic this morning. What’s the matter, cousin?”

“Da saw fit to give me a rather lengthy tongue-lashing last night.” Merry sighed. “He hasn’t done that since just before I came of age.”

“I remember that one. Half of that one was mine.” Pippin raised a brow wryly, and Merry gave a rueful chuckle. “We were quite a picture, with our matching black eyes and bruised knuckles.”

“Well, we couldn’t let those two louts at The Golden Perch get by with passing those kinds of remarks about Frodo, now could we?”

Pippin shook his head. “Merry, you are normally one of the most reasonable, even-tempered hobbits I know. But let anyone look cross-eyed at either Frodo or me--”

“I take care of my own, Pip. I always have and I always will.”

“I know, Mer.” Pippin laughed. “I can see us now, three white-haired old gaffers, and you laying about you with your walking-stick because some young whippersnapper has dared to be pert with one of us.”

“You’re a fine one to talk, Pip. I’ve seen you bristle fast enough on my behalf or Frodo’s.”

“And Frodo has bristled for us on a few occasions.”

“Yes. Well. He can usually take care of it with that cold stare of his. But he did give Lotho a bloody nose for me once.”

“Have I heard this one?”

“I’ll tell you as we walk down.” Merry laughed. He felt much better now.

____________________________________________________________________

Poppy had finally persuaded Reggie to get some rest. Opal had wakened briefly to his presence; but she had been in a deal of pain, and Poppy had given her something for it.

He had been completely exhausted, and did not even wake to the commotion Hyacinth had caused when Paladin’s older sisters had arrived to escort her from the Smials, bag and baggage.

She looked over at her patient’s bediside, amazed. Her oldest sister, Amethyst, was sitting with her, holding her hand and wiping her brow. Amethyst had never struck Poppy as a very caring person, yet she and Garnet had elected to remain with their father, and both had taken time to stay with their injured sister.

Amethyst felt Poppy’s regard. “I know what you are thinking. I know people don’t like us much. But we’ve always stuck together, the three of us. We didn’t have anyone else, did we?”

_______________________________________________________

As Merry and Pippin approached the encampment, they heard the unmistakable sound of Bergil having a flute lesson from the patient Anwynd.

“Uh-oh,” said Merry. “I hope Freddy doesn’t hear.”

Yet they were surprised to see as they approached Fredegar seated by the fire next to Legolas and Gimli, with a bowl of porridge, talking, and with no outward or visible signs of distress. “Hullo, Merry and Pippin. Did you come to have breakfast with us?”

“If you can spare any,” answered Pippin. He looked over at Danulf, who was up and also seated by the fire, a bandage round his head, but otherwise looking no worse for the wear. “I am glad to see that you are better, Danulf.”

Merry went over and gave the Man a brief embrace. “So am I. It’s a good thing you have a hard head.”

He laughed. “I learned my lesson on one thing. I will not lay my helm aside on watch ever again!”

Everyone else laughed, and then winced, as Bergil hit an especially sour note. “He is improving,” said Targon. “Really, he *is* improving.”

“Yes,” said Freddy, “he really is.”

Merry and Pippin looked at their friend in delight and wonder.

Merry tried for a casual attitude as he asked “Freddy, did your mother and sister come today?”

Fredegar turned his head aside, and concentrated on his porridge, so that Merry could not see his face as he answered. “No, they stayed in town today.”

“Oh,” said Merry. He’d hoped to see Estella.

Uh-oh, thought Pippin, who had caught a glance at Freddy’s eyes.

_____________________________________________________________

The debate over what to do with the gold lasted throughout the day, and there was still a great deal to be resolved. It seemed that this was going to take three or four days, before they ever even got to the High King’s edicts. This suited Paladin and Saradoc just fine, as it would give time for Denham Banks and Uffo Bracegirdle to arrive. Frodo felt a bit impatient, but he was willing to allow himself to be guided by his older kinsmen. Not for the first time did he long for the chance to give these responsibilities back to Will Whitfoot.

At one point, he had wearily voiced this hope to Paladin and Saradoc.

“I understand your feelings, Frodo,” said Saradoc, “but I, for one, am glad it is you, and not old Will helping us to sort these matters out.”

“Yes,” put in Paladin. “I know this is hard for you, but you have more understanding of these matters, and of these Big Folk that we have to deal with. Will Whitfoot is excellent in the traditional matters the Mayor deals with, but he would have been quite out of his depth here.”

“As would we, without your guidance, Frodo.”

This made Frodo feel a good deal better about his role, yet it did not make him less weary of it all. He was finding that he did not enjoy politics at all.

__________________________________________________

Sam and Rose were enjoying an evening stroll through the south garden, accompanied at a discreet distance by Pervinca and her husband.

“I feel so badly, Sam. If I had not said anything about that box, none of it would have happened.”

“Hush, now, Rosie, that’s not so. Those Bankses would have made trouble no matter what. And so it is that Miss Opal would not have been punished, but she would have got away with thievery. I feel heartily sorry for the lass, what happened to her is so much worse than what she deserves, but it’s no blame to you, my love.”

“Do you think she would mind if I went to see her?”

“I don’t know, Rosie, but we can ask, can’t we. I think the more people see her, the better. It can’t hurt for her to know we care.”

“Oh, I hope it would help, Sam! It’s just so terrible to think of.”

“You’ve a tender heart, Rose.”

“So do you, Sam.”

_______________________________________________________

Opal was writhing in pain. She had not really grasped the extent of her injuries, and was still drifting in and out of consciousness. Reggie and both her sisters were with her, and she seemed aware of their presence. Poppy had gone to get some rest, and left Viola to take care of things for a while.

Pearl was still staying at the apartment, trying to help in any way she could.

She tapped on the door to Opal’s room and stuck her head in.

“There is a visitor. Is it all right?”

Reggie just nodded. It was probably Eglantine or maybe Esmerelda; they had both been by to see Opal. He didn’t even look up, until he sensed the presence that entered was larger than expected.

It was the Elf.

__________________________________________________

CHAPTER 52

The assembly spent the next four days debating the use of the gold. There was a general consensus on using it to rebuild and also to support the families of those who lost breadwinners during the Occupation, but the specifics were more difficult to come by.

On the second day of the debate, Uffo Bracegirdle arrived, in great shock at finding out that his cousin Dago had been a traitor, and was now trying to flee justice.

On the third day of the debate, Denham Banks arrived, accompanied by his sons Denny and Rolly. He was very surprised to find that he was now head of the Banks clan. He was given a warm welcome by Eglantine, and spent a great deal of time closeted with Saradoc, and being brought up to date on what had been going on. He was completely shocked by Clodio’s treachery. It was clear he felt out of his depth socially.

At the luncheon break on the fourth day of the debate, Merry sought out Odovocar Bolger.

“Odovocar, I was wondering if everything was all right with Mistress Rosamunda and Estella? They have not come back out, and I would have thought that they might, if only to see Freddy.”

Odovocar sighed. “Meriadoc, I have to tell you, Estella is trying to avoid you. She is quite upset with you.”

Merry went pale. “What? Why? What did I do?”

“I am afraid, my lad, that your actions with the Banks brothers at the Ball frightened her very much. I am sorry, but she does not wish to see you right now.” He sighed sadly, and moved on. He hoped the young people would work this out, as he quite liked the idea of Merry as a son-in-law, but it was up to his daughter now.

Merry stood there, thunderstruck. It had never remotely occurred to him that Estella would be frightened by his action. He just stood there, unmoving and unheeding, as her father’s words came back to him.

Pippin came up to him. “Merry, are you all right?”

He turned a desperate face to his cousin. “She doesn’t want to see me! He said I frightened her!”

Pippin took a deep breath, and latched on to Merry’s sleeve. “Come on, let’s go find Freddy. Maybe he can shed some light.” He dragged Merry along, unresisting.

They found Freddy, as had become customary for him in the last several days, in company with Legolas and Gimli.

Pippin started off without any preamble. “Freddy, what’s this business about Estella being upset with Merry?”

Merry blushed, but it was a measure of his misery that he did not protest his cousin’s interference, nor notice that his problem was being aired in front of the Elf and the Dwarf. Pippin tended to be very direct, and maybe that’s what was called for here.

Gimli stood up. “I think this may be none of our business, Master Elf.”

Legolas shook his head. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“She saw something, Merry, that it would have been better she not see. My little sister thinks of you as safe and protective, but she was frightened by that display of violence the other night. It showed her a side of you I don’t think she had thought about before.”

“Why didn’t she say something? Why didn’t she give me a chance to explain? Why did she just go off like that?”

“I don’t know. Lasses are like that sometimes. I told her she should give you a chance to explain, but she didn’t want to face you. I tried to explain it to her myself, but I don‘t think she listened to me.”

Merry moaned. “What am I going to do?”

Freddy sighed. “I’d tell you to go talk to her, but I don’t think she’d see you right now if you went to see her. She’s terribly unhappy.”

“Perhaps she would see others,” said Legolas.

Pippin and Merry stared at him. They had nearly forgotten he and Gimli were still there.

“Lad, this is none of our business--” started Gimli. The last thing he wanted to do was get involved in Merry’s love-life.

But Pippin had a speculative look on his face. “Not a bad idea, Legolas. If she won’t talk to Merry, she’ll have to talk to us.”

Freddy looked alarmed. “You don’t want to all come down on her at one time. That will really frighten her!”

“No,” said Pippin thoughtfully, “no that’s true. One at a time would be better--”

Merry looked uncertain. Having his friends’ support was all very nice, but he didn’t want them to make things worse. He looked at the Elf. He had thousands of years of experience, he must know what he was doing. “Well, if you really think it will help?”

“Trust us, Merry,” said Pippin.

Merry nodded. After all, he couldn’t be any more miserable.

____________________________________________________

Opal had begun to have more lucid moments. Poppy checked her for signs of infection, and was pleased that her injuries were healing on schedule. She was still in a lot of pain, though, and the little healer was trying to be very careful with the draughts for the pain. Some of them were very strong, and could become addictive if not used wisely.

The Elf had visited her a few times. He would sit and sing to her in his strange tongue, and he would put his large hand over her forehead; it seemed to ease her pain without a draught, and Poppy was very grateful to him.

Her patient still had not come to terms with the extent of her injuries. Although she had been told that she had lost one leg, and though she knew the other was broken, she seemed in a stage of denial about it.

Poppy turned to Garnet, who had fallen into a light doze while the healer examined her patient. “Is it time for your father to relieve you?”

“Not quite yet,” murmured Opal’s sister. Reggie and Opal’s two sisters had taken it in turn to stay with her at all times since it had happened.

There was a rap on the door.

“Come in,” said Garnet.

It was Rose Cotton and Marigold Gamgee. They had been there two or three times already. Garnet felt ashamed of herself, a very unaccustomed feeling, for the way she had spoken and thought of the two lasses. They had been so sweet, thoughtful and concerned; she wondered why she had ever listened to her mother about them.

“Hullo, Miss Garnet,” said Rose. “How is she today?”

“She’s still sleeping most of the time.”

Poppy excused herself, and left the visitors with her patient and her patient’s sister. Things were looking up.

_________________________________________________________

“Sam--”

“Yes, Mr. Pippin?”

“Would you be up to coming into Tuckborough with Freddy, Legolas and me? We have a little errand of mercy to perform.”

“What do you mean, Mr. Pippin?”

“Well, it seems that Miss Estella is not happy with our Merry. I think we ought to talk with her, don’t you?”

Sam looked alarmed. “I don’t know about that, Mr. Pippin. It may not be a good idea.”

“Legolas thinks it’s a good idea. Besides,” he put forth his best argument, “how would you feel if Rosie wouldn’t speak to you?”

The stricken look on Sam’s face was worth it. “Oh my, Mr. Pippin! It doesn’t do to think of! Of course I’ll help.”

_________________________________________________

At The Leaping Hare, Rosamunda glanced at her daughter’s moping form in irritation. The child had been miserable ever since that little scene Meriadoc had pulled with the Banks brothers. When it happened, Rosamunda had also been appalled. But then Odovocar had returned from the first day of assembly, and told them why, and of the treachery of the Banks. That they had been instrumental in helping Lotho Pimple take over the Shire, and so were at least partly responsible for her losing her home temporarily, and for Freddy’s imprisonment, and for poor little Folco’s murder was enough for her. Actually, she now thought Merry had been rather moderate with his reaction.

At the Ball, she had been suitably impressed with the introductions of the guests of honor. It was not lost on her that the Brandybuck lad had gained in status while he was gone. She had spent quite some time in conversation with Reginard, and learned what some of the titles they had given him meant. Apparently having been one of the “Nine Walkers” was just about the highest of honors after being a “Ringbearer”. And he was favored by not one, but *two* of the Kings in the South. News of the lavish annual stipend he was to receive from his King had also reached her. A hundred silver pennies a year and two ponies was nothing to sneeze at.

And now it looked like her daughter might throw it all away because he lost his temper, and about something that was perfectly justifiable.

Of course, if she thought that Estella truly did not care for him anymore, that would be different. But it was obvious that she was still in love with him. Young people could be so exasperating.

There was a rap on the door of the room. Estella looked at her mother.

Of course, it was probably Angelica Baggins. She and Estella had been spending a deal of time together since the Ball. But Rosamunda would have to be sure, because Estella was adamant about not seeing Merry.

It was Freddy. “Hullo, Mother. I’ve brought someone to see Estella.”

She looked up at her brother angrily. “I won’t see Merry!”

“I promise it’s *not* Merry! Come, now, would I do that to you?”

“I suppose not. Well, as long as it’s not Merry.”

Freddy turned and beckoned, and Pippin entered the room. Estella looked at him in dismay. It might as well have been Merry. She turned a betrayed look at her brother, but he had taken his mother’s arm. “Come, Mother, let’s go have a cup of tea, and I will tell you of the goings on at the Smials. Have you heard that Hyacinth was banished?”

Freddy and his mother went out. Estella glared at Pippin without saying a word.

“ ‘Hullo, Pip, it’s nice to see you, how have you been keeping?’ ” He grinned at her. “Is that so hard?”

His Tookish smile was infectious, and she couldn’t help it. “I am glad to see you, Pippin, but I know you are just here to plead for Merry.”

“You are an intelligent lass. Of course I am. He’s perfectly miserable.”

“So, what do you have to say for him?”

“Well, first of all, I want to know why you are so upset with him. What happened the other night had nothing whatsoever to do with you. You know that.”

She hung her head. It was going to be hard to say this to Pippin, because he was like Merry--he had gone away and come back changed.

“It just--it brought it home to me. Merry has done violent things, he’s fought in battles, and--and he’s killed,” she whispered. “He’s killed people. I mean I know they were wicked and all but--”

“I see.” Pippin’s voice was cold and a bit hard.

She sighed. “I knew you’d take it like that.”

He looked at her steadily. “It’s time you learned a little bit about how the Shire has been protected all these years. I think you need to talk to someone else.”

He went to the door, opened it and gestured. Legolas entered. “I think you can explain some of this better than I can.”

_________________________________________________

By teatime the assembly had finished for the day. Frodo went looking for his friends. He found Gimli.

“Where has everyone gone, Gimli? I can’t find anyone else.”

Gimli sniffed. “Well, Master Merry is in his room moping. Everyone else has gone into town to interfere in his love-life.”

“What?” Frodo’s exclamation was sharp. This did not sound good.

“It seems that Miss Estella is not speaking to Merry, after what happened the other night with those young louts he subdued. So Pippin, Legolas, Sam and Fredegar have all gone into town to reason with her.”

“Oh stars above!” Frodo moaned. “Whose brilliant idea was that?” expecting the answer to be Pippin.

“The Elf’s of course,” snorted Gimli. “You know how Elves are about romance.”

“It was *Legolas’s* idea?”

“Indeed, that is exactly what I said.”

Frodo heaved a heavy sigh. “Well, then maybe it won’t be a total disaster. After all, he must have thousands of years of experience.” He got up. “I guess I had better go and see if I can cheer up Merry.” That would be nice, actually. Merry had spent his entire life from the day he was born, cheering up Frodo. It would be good to return the favor.

_______________________________________________________

The four friends sat glumly nursing their ale.

“I must say,” said Legolas, “that this is not the reaction I was hoping for.”

“Well,” Freddy took a sip from his tankard. “at least she’s not angry at him any more.”

“Nooo,” Pippin said sarcastically, “she’s not mad any more.”

Sam shook his head. “No, now she thinks she’s not good enough for him.”

CHAPTER 53

Merry’s four friends returned to the Great Smials wondering just what they were going to tell him. They went in search of him, and found him in the Took family sitting room.

Pippin burst out laughing. “Well, I see you have consoled yourself! Here you are surrounded by females, with two lasses upon your knees!”

For Frodo had thought the best way to cheer Merry up was with little ones.

He had brought all three of Pippin’s sisters, and the babes, as well as Rose and Marigold. Frodo sat with little Largo contentedly on his lap, while Merry was entertaining Flora and Alyssum with silly stories about their Uncle Pip.

Still, as they came in, his face shot up, and he looked at his friends hopefully.

The other three all looked at Legolas--it had been his idea, after all.

He sat down on the floor next to Merry. “Well, she is no longer angry about what happened the other night. I explained to her about how it was necessary sometimes for violence to be used to protect the weak, how the Rangers have protected the Shire for many generations. I told her that Aragorn told me once that you would have made an excellent Ranger if you had been a Man, for you had the right temperament--”

Merry looked surprised. “He said that about *me*?”

“Indeed he did.”

Sam spoke up. “And I told her you always protected the people you love, and that you would never harm anyone you cared about, only someone who threatened them. Even when you were a little lad.”

“Thank you, Sam.”

And Pippin put in “I told her about how you had protected Lady Éowyn and King Thèoden from the Witch-king.” Merry looked alarmed. “Don’t worry, I didn’t give the scary details, just enough to let her know how important it had been, and how all you thought of was your friends.”

Merry nodded. It sounded hopeful.

Frodo was wondering why they hadn’t just said that Estella was willing to see Merry again.

“Anyway--” Pippin looked at Legolas again.

“Meriadoc, she is now filled with such great admiration for you, that she feels she is unworthy of your affection. She thinks you need to find a lass who is brave and bold, and not so timid as she.”

“Estella is *not* timid!” Merry shouted, startling Alyssum, who began to cry, and slipped off his knee to hide her face in her mother’s lap.

Flora put her hand on his cheek. “Poor Unca Merry,” she said sadly.

Pippin’s sisters had all burst out laughing, while Rosie and Mari shook their heads. Frodo moaned.

“I said not so, Merry. That is what *she* said!” Legolas defended himself. Truly, he had not thought they had been so eloquent. “And she is not angry with you any longer.”

“What am I going to do now?” groaned Merry.

Pearl stood up. “That, cousin, is what happens when you send a lad to do a lass’s job.” She kissed his brow and went out.

Pervinca grinned. “Your troubles are over, Merry. Pearl’s on the job.”

_______________________________________________________

The next day brought a drizzle of fine rain, and a grumpy lot to the assembly. But there was a sense of anticipation. They were finally going to begin tackling the King’s edicts.

Frodo explained the role the Rangers had played over the generations, protecting the Shire from many a menace that never was seen by any hobbit of the Shire due to their vigilance.

“They have literally given their lives in order to see that we were peaceful and undisturbed. But it has taken its toll over the years, and there are not so many of them as there once were; the War did not help. It was because of that, and because of Lotho, that we had the trouble that we did last year. The King has ordered them to resume the patrols since the War is over, but their numbers have dwindled even more, and it will be some generations before there are again enough of them to keep us completely safe again. Indeed, I do not think it wise that we ever count on them for that--we need to maintain our own vigilance now. This is why he has requested that we need more Bounders.”

Now Saradoc stood. “I have agreed to put my resources to work in recruiting more Bounders, but Buckland is only our border to the East. I will need assistance in finding those who can help me recruit in the North, South and West Farthings. Thanks to the reparation money, we should have no trouble in paying any stout lads we may gather.”

And now the debate began as to how many more Bounders would be needed, and where, and for how long.

_____________________________________________

For the first several days of their imprisonment in the Men’s camp, the Bankses had cringed whenever any of the Men came near them. They had not talked much, even among themselves. They also had been quite hungry, as the Men fed them no more frequently than they fed themselves, which was only three times in the day, meager meals by hobbit standards.

Still, gradually they had become a bit less fearful. The Men spoke to them coldly and formally when they brought the food, but were not discourteous. Not one single hobbit had come to see them or inquire about them, not even Beryl. No one had informed them that she had been so distraught over their fate that she had spent the last several days under the influence of calming draughts administered by a healer. When hobbits did come to the camp, they totally ignored their presence, speaking and dealing only with the Men.

So they looked up hopefully when Borondir led a young hobbitess towards them.

“This is Apprentice Healer Viola. She is here to see to your Marking.” He looked at her. “Is there anything that you will need, Miss Viola?”

She glanced disdainfully at the three who sat before her. “Only to stand by, in case they should need restraining.”

The three blanched. Once she was through with them, their former lives were truly over. Even if they ever should return from their exile to the south, they would be marked forever as those who had betrayed their own people.

______________________________________________________

Odovocar returned to The Leaping Hare at the end of the day quite tired. Now that they were getting into the actual workings of the King’s edicts, things were beginning to get both more interesting and more difficult.

He pondered the envelope in his pocket. He certainly hoped it would help. Estella was no longer moping over Merry, she now was bearing the air of a noble martyr, and it was decidedly annoying. He was glad that he was no longer a courting lad, and his heart went out to the young Brandybuck.

When he got to the room, he passed the envelope along to Rosamunda without comment.

“Estella, Pearl has invited us to tea at the Great Smials tomorrow.”

“I don’t wish to go, Mother. It is just a way to get me to see Merry.”

“Oh, I don’t think so dear,” lied Rosamunda. This little ploy had Pearl’s clever mark all over it. “they have also invited Angelica. I believe that it is to be just lasses.”

Estella sighed. “Well, in that case, I will go.”

__________________________________________________________

Reggie felt exhausted . Opal was beginning to come out of the stupor she had been in since the shock of her accident, but now she was fretful and in despair. She had finally acknowledged that her leg was gone, and her weeping had been hysterical as she said that she should have died, as she would have no life now.

Amethyst and Garnet had coped well with the beginning of the storm, but they too were exhausted, and had finally gone to their own rest.

Poppy had left a draught, but she had asked them not to use it unless it was absolutely necessary, as she did not want the lass to become dependant on the medicine.

As he was beginning to think perhaps he would have to give it to her, there was a knock on the door. He gave a sigh of relief. The one thing that had seemed to settle his daughter had been her stream of visitors. She had never had that much attention from anyone outside her immediate family before, and it surprised her to see that all these people seemed to care about her.

It was the Elf, Legolas, again, and this time he had brought his friend the Dwarf with him. Although he had been a few times, this was the first visit since she was conscious enough to be aware of his presence.

She sniffed, and gazed at him with wide eyes.

“Good day, Miss Opal. I thought perhaps you might like to meet Gimli. It is he that found you that night after you encountered the horses.”

“Gimli son of Gloín at your service, Miss Opal.”

__________________________________________________________

Paladin and Saradoc were closeted with Everard and Merimac.

“How do you think it is going?” the Master asked his brother.

Merimac chuckled. “Well, it’s going to take time. We’re hobbits, after all. But I do believe that in the end it is all going to be ratified if nothing else goes wrong. The discovery of Clodio’s and Dago’s treachery shook them, and made them more sympathetic towards the Men.”

“By the way, Paladin,” asked Everard, “has there been any word yet of Bracegirdle?”

“Not yet. We’ve had messages sent out in every direction, but there has been no word of him since he left Hardbottle.”

_____________________________________________________________

Dago looked down at the Ford in frustration. He had been camped here for days. But those Men were on the other side.

He had thought of maybe risking riding out openly, with a plausible lie about why he was travelling from the Shire, but it was too late for that now. A hobbit messenger had come by the day before, and he was sure it was with news of him. There was no way Clodio would keep silent about his part in things. What was he going to do? He could not stay here much longer.

__________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 54

Mellor tossed the bones of the coney into the fire and leaned back to take out his pipe. Across the fire his comrade raised a brow. “Are you sure you would not like to try it?” he asked him politely, as he did nearly every time.

Eradan shook his head. “I cannot imagine what you Northerners see in the habit.”

“It is relaxing,” said Mellor, sending up a couple of smoke rings. “Aragorn is uncommonly fond of it. I’m surprised more of you Southerners have not tried it on his account.”

It still gave Eradan a start to hear the King spoken of in so familiar a fashion. But to the Dunadaín of the North, he was familiar, their Chieftain, leader and captain for many years. By all means they respected and obeyed him, and they loved him fiercely. But they did not hold him in awe, as a figure out of legends, the way he was in Gondor.

“The halfling who brought us that message yesterday was a charming fellow. That is the first time I had actually spoken to one, though I had glimpses of the Ringbearers and their companions in the South before they returned to their home.”

“Hobbits,” Mellor replied with a bit of emphasis on the word, “in general, tend to be a very charming race. They are friendly and trusting for the most part, though the Shirelings are wary of outsiders, and are easily moved to laughter and tears. But as you could tell from his message, like every other race, they have their share of rogues and renegades.” He tilted up his head and blew another series of smoke rings. Eradan watched in fascination. If the stuff did not smell so foul, he would be tempted to try it just to learn how to do that. Mellor looked at him. “You say you saw the Ringbearers?”

“Yes, on two very different occasions, in Ithilien.” Eradan closed his eyes briefly to remember. “The first time was before he had accomplished his great deed. We had no idea who the small one was, or his companion. We actually captured them, as our orders stood for any strangers found there. I was not one of their captors, you understand, I just saw them briefly as they were led in, and then again later when our Captain Faramir released them. None of us knew then what their errand of secrecy was, nor do I think if we had been told would we have believed it. They were so small and frail in appearance, and it was clear they had already been through much hardship ere we ever found them. Some wondered at Faramir’s decision to allow them to go free. I, myself, thought perhaps they were some spies being sent by his father the Steward, with secret orders. I shudder now to think what the consequences would have been if he had delayed their errand.”

Mellor nodded. He understood what it was like to be in the field, following orders with incomplete information. One had to trust that the leaders knew more.

“The second time I saw them was when they were honored at Cormallen, after they had achieved their goal. All of us were in awe that such small creatures had held the fate of the world in their hands. We owe them so much.” He shook his head in wonder. “It is one of the reasons I volunteered to come north, when they said they needed more Rangers to fill out your ranks for a time, and to help guard their land.”

“We were never very numerous,” sighed Mellor, “but there was a time when we could have prevented such sad things as happened here last year. It is true that other lands may have suffered more during the War, but I would have had this happy little land not suffer at all.” It had been a matter of pride among the Rangers of the North that most of the Shirelings did not know of, did not even believe in, the dangers that lay in wait along their borders. They boasted among themselves that they had kept the Shire so safe that danger was a legend in the Shire. How proud they had been, how overconfident. Mellor had lost a number of dear friends when the Nazgûl had overwhelmed this very spot and gone rampaging into the Shire.

“Yet from what I have been given to understand, much of their trouble came from being betrayed by one of their own.”

“Yes. Well, as I said, every race has its rogues and renegades. Hobbits have fewer than most.”

“I would not say so of Elves.”

Mellor laughed. “Come now, Eradan, you know your lore. Elves had more than their share of renegades; but being immortal, they have managed over the ages to purge them. We Secondborn have a new crop every generation.” His posture suddenly altered to one of wary alertness. “Someone is coming,” he said softly, gesturing with his chin to the far side of the Ford.

Eradan nodded. He had noticed as well.

They watched the hobbit on the pony gingerly picking his way across the Baranduin towards them.

Mellor rose to his feet. “Good day, little master. What brings a hobbit out of the Shire?”

The hobbit brought his pony to a halt as it came out of the water. He hesitated for a moment, and then said too casually, “My name is--Hamfast Gamgee. I am going south to find a market for my leaf.” He did not meet the Ranger’s eyes, nor express surprise at being questioned.

“Ah,” said the Man, “perhaps you are going down the Greenway to the Fords of Isen, Mr. Bracegirdle.”

“Yes, that’s it--” he stopped in sudden confusion, realizing too late that he had responded to his real name. He tried to turn the pony to bolt back across the Ford, but the other Man seized its halter.

The first Man lifted him easily down from the saddle, though he struggled. “We had word of your coming, Mr. Bracegirdle. There are some people in the Shire who would like to talk to you.”

The hobbit slumped in defeat.

“That’s better. Would you care for some roasted coney? We have already lunched, but there is a bit left.”

He nodded wearily. He was hungry. That was what had finally enabled him to gather the courage to attempt the crossing.

The other Man looked at him. “The Thain’s messenger will not be back until morning. Should we go ahead and escort him back, or should we wait.”

Mellor shook his head. “I don’t know. Let me think on it.”

______________________________________________________

Estella had been more than a little apprehensive as she, her mother and Angelica made their way to Pearl’s apartment in the Great Smials. She was very afraid that she would meet with Merry along the way. She felt terrible for the way she had misjudged his actions; she realized now she was just too squeamish and timid to be a good match for someone as brave and bold as Merry. And she was not sure what she could say to him if she did see him. It occurred to her that she was going to have to think of something. The circles their families moved in would not allow her to avoid him forever. But maybe she could avoid him long enough for him to forget about her. And at the thought of that her treacherous heart gave a pang. Stop that, she thought, he’s better off without you, when you don’t have any better faith in him than you showed.

As her mother had said, this tea party was just lasses. Pearl greeted them warmly at her door and showed them in. Already there were both her sisters, and her Aunts Primrose and Peridot, and Rose Cotton and Marigold Gamgee, and Eglantine. And Esmeralda. She quailed a bit at the sight of Merry’s mother, but Esme greeted her warmly, as though she did not know anything was amiss.

There was another knock on the door, and Pearl opened it to greet Amethyst and Garnet, looking pale and worn. “Hullo, Pearl,” said the older sister. “We had not planned to come, but father insisted. He said he would sit with Opal until we came back.”

Garnet embraced Pearl. “Thank you for asking us. And thank you for everything else. I know we’ve been a pain to you sometimes in the past, but you’ve been so kind to us.”

Pearl shook her head. “Let’s let the past stay the past. We understand a few things a lot better now than we used to.”

She led the new arrivals into her sitting room, where a lovely tea was laid--teas and cakes and biscuits and little sandwiches, and other dainties.

They talked at first about the Ball, and the gowns and the dances, but it seemed that all too soon the talk turned to the Travellers.

“It seems such a shame that we had that unpleasantness,” said Eglantine. “I do believe that Frodo was actually enjoying himself for a while, poor lad.”

“Oh, he was,” said Rose. “Sam told me so. He said he’d not seen Mr. Frodo looking so relaxed for a very long while.”

“Well,” said Esmeralda, “I think all of them were enjoying it up to then. I hate to say this Tina, but I am glad that Merry was finally able to get that business with your nephews out of his system.”

Estella cringed.

“I don’t know why you should hate to say it. I found it very satisfying myself. And they are no longer my nephews.”

“Well, Merry is so protective. You know how he is.”

“Oh indeed I do,” Eglantine laughed “no big brother could have taken better care of Pippin when he was small than his cousin did.”

“Ah,” said Pearl, “but he led him into his share of mischief as well. Those two had more schemes for disrupting life around them than any one else I’ve ever heard of.”

Pimpernel chuckled. “Yes, and the three of us were usually the targets of their schemes. Do you remember the time that they decided to get back at us just because we had made Pippin stand in for me to pin up the hem on my new frock?”

Vinca moaned. “Do I ever! How long did it take us to get our dresses wearable again? I didn’t even know that Merry knew how to sew!”

“I don’t think I heard this one,” put in Esmerelda. “what did they do?”

Tina shook her head. “They went into the girls’ wardrobes and sewed all the openings to their dresses shut--necks, sleeves, hems and openings. The stitches were very crude, and in their haste they used long running stitches, so pulling them out did not ruin the clothes. Of course, they had already made themselves scarce by the time Pearl got up and went to get dressed. I think they had gone out around sun-up and spent the day at Pincup. They did not want to have to undo their handiwork.”

Esmeralda howled with laughter. “When did they do this?”

“Oh they were well old enough to know better. I think Merry was twenty-six and Pip about eighteen.”

Estella could not help but chuckle at this story. She had forgotten what a prankster Merry used to be.

“They are *still* not old enough to know better,” said Esme. She went on to relate the little prank night that took place just before they had all left Brandy Hall to come to Tuckborough. “At the time, I thought it was impossible, since they are living at Crickhollow, but thinking it over later, I realized that it’s only a short distance from the Hall, and Merry does have keys to every entrance in the smial.”

“Why on earth would they do such a thing?” exclaimed Primrose half-scandalized and half-amused.

“Well, I had told Pippin that young Bergil needed to learn how to have fun. I suspect that he took me very literally.” Esme chuckled again.

For a short time, the conversation veered to Bergil, and to the Men, but it seemed that after only a few moments, Merry was the topic again. All afternoon, it seemed, Estella could not get away from hearing his name.

After a while, it seemed, conversations broke into smaller groups, and she found herself visiting with Rosie. Estella asked Rose how the wedding plans were coming.

“Oh, they are coming along fine, Miss Estella. Just about the last detail was for Sam to ask Mr. Merry to stand with him, which he did, and so he is.”

Estella looked surprised. “Not Frodo?”

Rosie laughed. “No, Mr. Frodo is performing the wedding, so of course Sam had to ask someone else to stand with him, and I think that Mr. Merry is his best friend next to Mr. Frodo, more so than Mr. Pippin. Well, they’ve known one another since Mr. Merry was seven and Sam was nine, back when Mr. Frodo first came to live with Mr. Bilbo.”

“Oh.” She had not realized his friendship with Sam went all the way back to childhood. But it seemed that there were a lot of things she had not realized, and now it was too late.

“Yes, and I think that they are a good deal alike in some ways, though Mr. Merry is gentry. They both like to take care of folks, and never think twice about it.”

Suddenly Estella could not take it any more. “Excuse me,” she said to Rosie, and hurried away before the other lass could see the tears in her eyes.

Pearl had a private entrance to her apartment that led out to the north garden, and Estella made her way out.

Pearl, who had been talking to Rosamunda and Esmeralda watched Estella make her way out, and gave them a satisfied look. Then she gave a nod to Pervinca, who slipped out into the corridor of the Smials.

Estella found her way to a secluded garden seat, and put her head in her hands. She’d spoiled everything. Nothing would ever be right again.

“Estella?” said a gentle, familiar voice.

She looked up. There he stood, holding out a handkerchief with his heart in his eyes; and when she saw his face, something shifted. He was not the terrifying figure of violence she had pictured after the ball, nor the shining remote hero she had been imagining since yesterday. He was himself, Merry, with his rugged Brandybuck features and his quirky smile. She tried to speak, but nothing would come out.

He knelt down beside her. “Estella, I’m sorry I frightened you.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry for not understanding.”

He chuckled, and reached up with the handkerchief and gently dried her tears. “Well, let’s both be sorry then. I don’t think it’s terribly clever to quarrel over which of us is to blame.”

“Merry, I’m glad you are you,” she said.

“I’m glad I’m me, too, now, since you are speaking to me again.” He moved to sit beside her.

She looked up into his grey eyes, and leaned into his side as he placed an arm around her shoulders.

They leaned their heads together, and sat, not speaking again. But it was a very nice kind of not speaking this time.

Pearl watched through the door. She looked at the mothers of the young couple. “How long do we give them?”

Rosamunda smiled. “There is no hurry. No hurry at all.”

____________________________________________________

CHAPTER 55

There was a rap on Opal’s door, and Reggie wearily got up to answer. He had sent Amethyst and Garnet away for a few hours to have tea with Pearl. Opal had been weepy and fretful all afternoon, and the pain draught Poppy had left for her did not seem to be helping as much as it had done.

As he went to open the door, he wondered who it would be this time. There had been a steady stream of visitors, all of them concerned and wishing to help. Perhaps it would be the Elf again. Opal responded very well to him, and he seemed to be able to ease her pain.

“Frodo!” He was a bit surprised. This was the first time Frodo had come.

“Hullo, Reggie. How is she today?”

“She’s been in a lot of pain this afternoon. It’s made her fretful.”

“Why don’t you go out and get a bit of a breather. I’ll stay with her for a bit.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go ahead. I’m sure.”

Reggie went out with a sigh of relief. A cup of tea and a pipe would be nice. Poppy wouldn’t allow a pipe in the sickroom.

“Hullo, Opal,” said Frodo, going to sit in the chair vacated by her father.

“Cousin Frodo?” she said in surprise. She could not imagine why he would come see her. She had probably never spoken more than a few sentences to him her whole life. Hyacinth had always been disdainful of him, calling him “that odd Frodo Baggins, just as mad as his cousin Bilbo!” and her daughters had accepted her attitude. She would not have been a bit surprised if he had held those slights against her; she would have, in his place.

But now he sat in her father’s chair, gazing at her with those blue eyes full of sorrow and compassion, and yes, love.

“I understand you’ve been in a lot of pain today.” His voice was clear and gentle. There was no hint there that he even remembered how she had mocked him in the past.

“No one understands. The pain medicine can’t help.”

“Because the pain is in your leg that is not there.” He smiled wryly.

She stared at him in shock. How could he know?

He held up his right hand, and she gazed at the gap between his third and fifth fingers. It was the first time she had noticed it, though she had been told about it. “I often have pain in the one that is not there any more,” he said. “I have been told that this is not an uncommon thing.”

“How do you stand it?”

“Strider, my healer, gave me some herbs and an ointment that help. I brought some with me, to see if perhaps Poppy can make use of them for you.”

Opal burst into tears. “Why are you so nice to me? Why is everyone so nice to me? Do they just feel sorry for me because I’m crippled now? Will they still be nice to me when I get better?”

Frodo shook his head, and reached over to wipe her tears with his handkerchief. “It is possible that people do pity you right now; but I have learned that pity can be a very good thing. If you take it with the right attitude, you may be able over time to change that pity to friendship. While I have to admit that you have not been the most pleasant person in the world in the past, you certainly have the future in which to make it up. You did not deserve what happened to you, but you can do your best to let it make you stronger.”

She gazed at him in wonder. “Garnet said that they called you Frodo the Belovéd at the Ball.”

He blushed. “That was one of the King’s names for me.”

“I think I know why.” They were both quiet for a moment, and then she said “How can I learn to be nicer? I never thought I would need to be nice, I always thought ‘nice’ would be boring. But I think I like nice people. I want to be one, too.” She said it simply, like a small child.

“Well, dear,” he said, brushing back the curls from her damp forehead, “wanting it is the first step.”

___________________________________________________

Mellor looked at Eradan, and they both looked at their prisoner. He looked pretty pathetic. But they really did not wish to take a chance on his slipping off, and Mellor had experience of how stealthy hobbits could be given the chance.

“We have never been allowed to enter the Shire except for emergencies; and there is no reason to believe that those orders have changed now,” he said. “The question is, is this an emergency? The messenger from the Thain made it clear they think his capture is important.”

Eradan pursed his mouth and thought a moment. “Why don’t I go upstream a bit, see if I can spot any hobbits across the river who might be willing to deliver a message for us. Even if the Thain’s messenger does return in the morning, he may not be willing to take the prisoner if he does not know we have him.”

“That’s a good idea.” On any given day once the weather was warm, there were usually hobbits to be found on the bank dangling a line in the water. There might even be a Brandybuck or two boating. Usually Mellor kept out of their sight, but there was no longer any need for secrecy, at least. “Make sure you don’t frighten them if you should find any.”

Eradan nodded. “I’ll do my best.” He turned and headed off, walking along the bank.

Dago had been watching and listening carefully. He might be able to work something out with only one Man watching him. And this one was scruffier than the other. He might stand a chance. He watched Eradan until he had moved out of sight beyond a small copse of trees.

Mellor sat across from him, mending a strap from his pack. He seemed to ignore the prisoner, but he was keeping alert. Dago knew he had no chance to make a run for it, even though they had not even bothered to tie him up. He thought about the Men he had known before; they tended to be a greedy lot.

“You know,” said the hobbit, “if you let me go, I have coin--”

Mellor began to laugh. “Foolish hobbit. If I were the kind of rogue who could be bought, I would have no need to let you go. I would simply slit your throat and help myself to all that nice shiny coin you have on your pony. And now, of course, I shall have to report your attempt to bribe me to the Thain as well. How did you ever imagine you would get away? You do not seem to have any idea of how the world works outside the Shire.”

Dago quailed. He truly had not thought that far ahead. He had simply wanted to avoid being Marked, and to avoid the unpleasantness that would have come from everyone knowing of his dealings with Lotho. Of course, now they all knew anyway, and he was going to have to go back in disgrace. Blast Clodio and his sons!

__________________________________________________________

After a while, Reggie returned to find that Opal had drifted back to sleep.

Frodo took his leave, and went in search of Poppy. He found her just returning to Reggie’s quarters after a brief trip to her home to freshen up, and a round of checking on some of her other patients.

He walked back with her. “I’ve just come from seeing Opal. You know she is suffering from phantom pain?”

Poppy looked at him, startled. He raised his right hand before her face and gave a rueful smile that did not reach his eyes.

“Ah,” she said. She had forgot that he’d lost a finger on his journey somehow, but that would explain how he knew about phantom pain. “There’s not a lot I can do about it.”

“Well,” he hesitated, “my healer in the South--”

“The King,” she interrupted.

“Yes. Well. I suppose Pippin told you he is a healer.”

She nodded. She noticed that he tried to avoid talking about his friend as a King.

“He gave me an ointment that helps, and some special herbs. If you do not think me impertinent for suggesting it, I would gladly let you have some to use for Opal. He sent me home with an abundant supply; I do not mind sharing it.”

“That is most generous of you, Frodo.” She was intrigued. If there was something that could help with the phantom pain, she wanted to know about it. The King must be a most remarkable healer; but she had already begun to suspect as much when she had examined Peregrin after his return.

He took from his pocket a small jar. “This ointment seems to help, and it does not take very much. I think that you may be able to figure out what herbs are in it, if you want to learn how to make it. Or I could ask him in my next letter.” Then he took out two small flat packets of waxed parchment, sealed with wax. “These are two leaves of athelas, also called kingsfoil. These have a particular virtue, as they were gathered and dried by the King himself; it seems to make a difference. He often uses a very small amount of it in hot water to lave a wound or injury, and it has a very calming and soothing effect.” Finally he took out a small pouch. “This is a bit of athelas prepared to use in a tea. It also is good for calming a troubled mind. All four of us have an ample supply of this on hand--it seems to settle the aftereffects of ill dreams very well.” He was trying to sound casual, but her trained ear could hear the strain in his voice. He had grown pale except for a flush in his cheeks, and she could tell a difference in his breathing. He was clearly uncomfortable. He did not like talking about these things, which made it incredibly generous of him to do so, all for the sake of a lass who had never been known for kindness herself.

She took the proffered items. “Thank you very much, Frodo. I hope that it will help her; are you sure you can spare this?”

“Yes,” he said, “I have plenty, and Sam, I’m sure, has even more put away for me.”

She nodded, and they parted at Reggie’s door. She watched after him with troubled eyes. He had not recovered nearly as well as his companions from their journey, and she sensed the melancholy that was not very deeply buried. He had been troubled with that before he left--since his parents died, in fact, but it seemed even deeper and darker now. She wondered who his healer in Hobbiton was. Maybe Lavender knew.

_____________________________________________________

Hob Brownlock and his cousin Matty were about ready to call it a day. Each of the tweens had a nice string of fish, and they had long since finished off the basket of provisions they had brought with them. As they drew in their lines, they noticed a movement on the far bank.

“Hoy!” came a voice across the River. It was a Man. The lads were a-foot instantly, rocks in hand.

“Don’t you try to come across!” yelled Hob.

“Fear not!” shouted Eradan. “I am one of the King’s Rangers! We need someone to contact the Thain’s messenger for us; we have an important message for the Thain!”

The lads looked at one another in excitement. “We can do it!” they shouted.

“Tell them we have captured the one they have been searching for. We have him at Sarn Ford. They need to send hobbits to come fetch the prisoner back, or failing that, send permission for us to bring him back into the Shire! Can you do that?”

Hob repeated the message back word for word, and the lads hurried on their way, pleased and excited to be part of something that sounded so very interesting.

Satisfied that the message was on its way, Eradan turned and made his way back to Sarn Ford.

________________________________________________

CHAPTER 56

The assembly had made good progress. There had not been much need for discussion or debate over the issues of messengers, and though the issue of trade was a vital one, it was decided that it was too soon to be deciding any details about that. Time enough for that when the roads were actually built, and the settlements in the wilderness came to be. And of course, the confessions of the Bankses had made the task of clearing up Lotho’s dealings in the South much simpler.

Hobbits were also agreed on the restrictions for Men to enter the Shire. It would obviously have to be something of great import--such as this embassy from the Kings--to get the Thain *and* the Master *and* the Mayor to agree on allowing them in. And in seven years, they would be able to tell if it were working out or not.

This left the question of an embassy of hobbits; it was going to be a bit more difficult, as decisions had to be made on who to send. Paladin suggested that the assembly take the next day off before dealing with this final issue.

_________________________________________________

After tea, Sam approached Frodo.

“Mr. Frodo, I know that you said you needed me to be here, and I know you were kind enough to have Rosie and Mari here, too, but we’ve only two weeks to go until the wedding. Do you think we might be getting back to Bag End soon?”

Frodo nodded understandingly. “I am sorry about that, Sam. Give us a day or so, and then, if we are still not finished, you may take Rosie and your sister and go on back to Hobbiton.”

Sam looked distressed. “And leave you here on your own?”

Frodo stared at him in amazement. “On my own? In a smial full of Tooks and other relations? Not to mention Merry and Pippin?”

“Well, sir, Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin are fine, but your other relations, well, will they really understand?” Sam didn’t like having to spell it out. He still felt guilty about being gone in Rethe when Frodo had his illness. But he couldn’t say so, since he wasn’t even supposed to know about it.

Frodo sighed. “No, they probably don’t. But they don’t have to. I’ll be fine. Besides we may be able to wrap things up before then. Don’t fret.”

________________________________________________

“Merry?”

“Yes, Freddy?” Merry had gone to check on his pony at the Took stables, and Fredegar had found him there.

“You told me once that you were afraid of heights.”

“Oh my, yes. At least as afraid of heights as you are of the River.” Merry wondered where this conversation was going.

“Then how did you manage on your journey? I’ve heard some of it from you and Pip, and Legolas and Gimli have told me more. You had to climb hills and mountains and towers. Gimli told me of all the long drops in the caverns of Moria, and sleep in trees in the Golden Wood, and I know that the Ent who carried you about in the forest was quite tall. How did you do all the things that you needed to do, if you were afraid of heights?” He looked very solemn as he asked, and Merry could tell there was more behind the question than he had really said.

“Well,” said Merry thoughtfully, “I truly was afraid a lot of those times, I mean heart right down in my toes, and afraid I’d lose my lunch afraid. But I had to keep it under control. First of all, there was Pip, who didn’t need the sight of me gibbering and screaming to undermine his confidence; and there was Frodo, who was doing all he could to hang on to his own fears and didn’t need to be worried for mine. And there was the fact that there were so many other *real* things to be afraid of--Black Riders, and Orcs and so forth. I had a responsibility not to let my fear overtake me.” Merry looked at his friend closely. “What’s this all about, Freddy?”

“Since Folco is gone, the Shire has lost something for me. I’m starting to get over the feeling that I will break into pieces at every reminder, but the reminders are still painful. I’ve been thinking--” he stopped and drew a deep breath, “seriously thinking--of volunteering to go with the embassy.”

Merry looked at him, stunned. The last person he would ever imagine wanting to leave the Shire was Fredegar Bolger. But then he thought about what the Shire would feel like to him if it no longer held Pippin.

“The only problem,” Freddy continued, “is that I wouldn’t want to make a fool of myself every time we had to cross a little bit of water. Do you think I could overcome that?”

“Fredegar, you are brave enough to overcome anything. You waited at Crickhollow knowing Black Riders were after us, you stood up to Lotho’s bullies and led a rebellion, you survived being in the Lockholes. If you truly wish this, you could do it. But I promise you it won’t be easy. You’d still face that fear every time you came to a river crossing.”

His friend looked hopeful. “But you think I could do it?”

“I’m sure you could.” He smiled. “In fact, I think it would be good if you did. You would make an excellent ambassador, and you have already shown you can make good friends with other races. You would be a great representative of the Shire.”

“Thank you, Merry. I’ll talk to my father tonight.”

______________________________________________________

Mellor and Eradan looked at their small prisoner. As they had feared, the Thain’s messenger had declined to take him into custody, but told them that word had already been sent, and they would soon know what the Thain wished.

Dago had barely spoken since his failed attempt to bribe Mellor. It had shaken him badly to realize how little he knew. He now was beginning to think that his capture might have been the best thing for him. Still, the idea of being Marked and banished put his heart right down in his toes. And for the first time he realized how dangerous banishment could be. He sighed, and then wished he had not, as it drew their attention. He found their gaze disconcerting, especially that of the Northerner, Mellor, who seemed to see right through him with a combination of amusement and disgust. The other Ranger, Eradan, looked at Dago like he was something nasty he had stepped in.

“How soon do you think we might be rid of him?” asked Eradan.

“It’s been a day and a half since the message went out, and if it were sent at top speed, I expect another day and a half to two days before they fetch him.”

They both glanced his way. “All right, Mr. Bracegirdle, it’s time.”

The hobbit nodded resignedly. They had not restrained him in any way during the daytime, but at night, before one of them slept--for they never both slept at once--they would bind him.

___________________________________________________

A strangled cry next to him, and Pippin sat bolt upright. Bergil was moving restlessly next to him, in the throes of a nightmare. Pippin reached out to the lad, as he often had to Merry or Merry to him. “Easy, Bergil, I’m here, lad.”

“NO!” Bergil cried out, waking wide eyed and breathing raggedly.

Pippin held him and patted his back as the child wept. “There now, Bergil, I’m right here. Do you want to tell it? You don’t have to, but sometimes it helps.” Pippin knew only too well that it did not always help.

“It--it was the old Steward--he--he hanged Father for disobeying him!” Bergil shuddered.

Pippin felt a chill run down his spine and clear to his toes. Denethor was a figure out of his own nightmares. That grim, proud old man, so sure that he, and only he, could know the right thing to do. So stern and inflexible. Pippin had no doubt that if Denethor had somehow survived his own pyre that Beregond would indeed have hanged for his disobedience that night, no matter that it had been done to save the life of the Steward and his son.

“Well, lad, we know it never happened, and you are awake now.” Pippin turned to his bedside table and struck a candle. “How about a cup of tea?”

Bergil sniffled and nodded.

Pippin got up and went to the small hearth in his room. A fire had been laid but not lit, as the evening had been mild. He lit it, and then drew forth the little kettle of water that was always kept there. Soon the wonderful scent of athelas filled the room. It almost always helped to settle one down after an ill dream.

He fixed two cups and handed one to Bergil, and they sipped, and found some pleasant things to speak of. But just as they were beginning to feel sleepy again, there came a sharp rap on the door.

“Pippin? Pippin!” It was Paladin’s voice.

__________________________________________________

Merry was riding, riding, seated before Dernhelm, riding with the Rohirrim over the plains; the hooves were pounding, pounding--

The insistent pounding, and the sound of his name, called softly but urgently, finally filtered into his consciousness. “Merry? Meriadoc?” He roused.

“Uncle Paladin?” he called, “all right, all right, I’m coming.” He stumbled from the bed, and fumbled to the door, and drew it open. “What’s wrong, Uncle Paladin? Is something wrong with Pip?”

“Pippin’s fine. I just spoke to him, too. The King’s Rangers at Sarn Ford have captured Bracegirdle. I’d like for you and Peregrin to fetch him back as soon as possible.”

Thoroughly awake now, Merry nodded. “Of course, Uncle Paladin. Give me a moment to dress and arm.”

“Certainly, lad. Come with Pippin to my study when you are ready.”

Merry dressed quickly, and was still adjusting his armor when he rapped on Pippin’s door.

“Come in, Merry,” came his cousin’s voice.

As he opened the door, he caught the familiar scent of athelas and gave Pippin a worried look.

Pippin shook his head. “Bergil had an unpleasant dream, so we had a cup of tea.” Bergil smiled at Merry as he helped Pippin into his armor.

“Be careful, Sir Pippin and Sir Merry.”

“We will, Bergil,” said Merry.

Pippin pulled Bergil down, and kissed his brow. “Get some rest, ‘cousin’.”

Bergil grinned, and climbed back into the bed.

A few moments later in front of the Smials, they were taking their leave of the Thain.

“Good-bye, Father, and do me a favor if you please.”

“Anything I can, son.”

“Ask Mother and Aunt Esme to keep a close eye on Bergil. I think he is a bit homesick and is missing his father.”

Paladin nodded, and watched his son and his nephew ride off into the night.

When they had trotted out of sight, the two Knights of the South pulled up and grinned at one another.

Pippin patted Sable’s neck. “Well, shall we see what these lads can do?”

Merry grinned. “Pybba’s from Rohan; I *know* what he can do! But let’s see anyway.”

And leaning forward, they rode like the wind.

___________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 57

“Frodo, could we speak with you for a moment?”

Frodo was taking advantage of the break in the assembly to read in the south garden; he was mildly annoyed to have his mood broken into by Odovocar and Freddy, but he pushed it down. He knew that Freddy at least, would not be disturbing him for anything minor.

“Certainly, Odovocar, Freddy,” he answered, “do join me.”

Odovocar cleared his throat. “What can you tell me about the King’s court in Gondor? What was it like to be one of only a few hobbits in a city full of Men?”

Frodo looked a bit startled, but he noticed the avid look on Fredegar’s face, and the pieces suddenly fell into place. Of course.

“Well, of course it is all very grand and formal. You saw for yourself the night of the Ball how they go in for titles and so forth. But the people are very friendly and well-disposed to hobbits. One problem that we had to get used to was their tendency to see us as children, not only because of our size, but because we are so much less formal. Hobbits tend to show their emotions more than Men do. But this is not a mistake the King ever makes, and he sets the tone for his court. He treated us fondly and familiarly, but not like children, except, of course,” Frodo gave a rare smile, “sometimes for Pippin, who still was a tween, though he had matured a great deal. Of course, everything is too large, from beds to chairs to dishes. Yet we did all right, and as you can see, it is just as uncomfortable for the Men who have come here to deal with everything being too small for them. I think they have coped admirably under the circumstances.”

Odovocar nodded thoughtfully.

Fredegar looked hopeful. “You see, Father, I should be perfectly fine.” He glanced at Frodo. “I suppose you have guessed I would like to volunteer for the embassy.”

Frodo nodded. “It did cross my mind that was where the questions were leading. Odovocar, I know that it might come hard to you to let your only son travel so far away, but I must say, I think Fredegar would represent us very well. He speaks some Sindarin, and has shown that he can get along with Men, Elves and Dwarves. If all goes right--and I must be honest and say that there is always the possibility something can go wrong--he should only be gone for a year: three months or so of travel, six months in the White City, and then the travel back here to the Shire.”

Odovocar nodded. He looked at Freddy. “Your mother may not like this.”

“You are head of the clan, Father, and so I would like your permission. But I am of age, and would like to do this.”

“Very well, I will put it to Paladin and Saradoc. If they are of the same opinion as Frodo, you have my blessing, son.” Truthfully, Odovocar was pleased. It seemed his old Freddy was almost back, and all because of his interest in these outlanders. He would do almost anything to keep the light on in his son’s eyes.

_____________________________________________________

“Master Brandybuck,” started the old hobbit.

“Denham, you are head of a family now, please call me Saradoc.”

“I’ll try. But it goes hard to change the way I’ve spoken all my life. Anyway, that’s just the point. I’m the head of the Bankses now, but I don’t feel ready for it nohow. But my two oldest boys, Denny, that is young Denham, and Rolly, they will need to be ready to take over when my time comes. They are going to need to learn more about the world and things than I ever needed to know. They are right bright and curious lads, too. I’m thinking that if they went down and stayed in that big city of Men for a while, they might learn a bit about how to be a good head of the family when the time comes. And it would help them that folks would remember they spent time there and hob-nobbed with kings and all.”

“I see,” said Saradoc. He thought the old fellow had a good point. There were going to be some families that would now hold the Bankses in less esteem because the head of the family was a working class hobbit. If he could get his sons away from that it would help. Very astute of him. “But how do *they* feel about this idea? Are they willing?”

“Oh, those two lads are quite taken with the King’s Men, ever since they came to the Bridge and was so polite and all. They think this is a right good idea.”

Saradoc nodded. He had heard some of the things that Denny had said about the Men. He was indeed “taken” with them. “Well, Denham, I’d like to sound them out personally, make sure they really are of the same mind on this, and if they are then I shall see what the Thain and the Mayor think, and we will put their names to the assembly.”

______________________________________________________________

“Well, Lavender, what do you think?” asked Poppy. She really hoped her friend would agree.

“I’ll put it to Polo, and let you know if it‘s all right with him.”

“Do you think it will be?” Poppy had never married, and the thought of having to get a husband’s permission rather put her back up.

Lavender laughed. “He’ll probably argue a bit, but if he thinks I really want to do it, he’ll agree. It will be good for my professional status if nothing else.”

______________________________________________________________

There was a knock on the door of the Thain’s study.

“Come in.” he didn’t look up from the papers he was perusing, thinking it was probably Everard.

“Paladin?”

“Merimac! What can I do for you?” Paladin was surprised to see Saradoc’s brother.

Merimac came in and took the seat across from the Thain. Now that he’d come to press his point, he felt a bit reluctant to do so. Still, it needed to be said. He took a deep breath. “I wonder what you would think of the idea of Berilac being one of the embassy? He expressed an interest in it when he first heard about it, and it was one reason he was so upset over having to stay in Buckland when we came to the assembly.”

Paladin looked thoughtful. “How do you feel about it?”

Merimac sighed. “Well, I’d as soon he stayed nearer home, but ever since Merry came back, I’ve seen the wanderlust in his eyes. For all that he’s two years older, he acts like a hero-worshipping tweenager when it comes to his cousin. Not that Merry doesn’t deserve it, when I think of all the lad went through. But I’d rather it be something useful like this than just taking off after adventure. Of course that’s not what Merry or Pippin did; Frodo needed them, but the circumstances have changed.”

“Why are you approaching me, instead of your brother?” Although Paladin had a notion of the reason.

“Berilac has been Sara’s right hand for a while, when Merry was gone, and even now he’s back, Beri still has a lot of the responsibilities. Merry had to spend so much time getting rid of ruffians; and of course he still has times when--” Merimac’s voice trailed off. He knew Pippin’s father would know what he was talking about.

“When he’s not well, just as Pippin and Frodo do, and I daresay young Samwise as well.” Paladin nodded. “But it would be good for Merry if his father were relying more on him again. Why don’t we approach your brother together, and see how he feels. I will tell you that I got the chance to get acquainted better with your son when we rode to Buckland together, and I think he would do very well.”

Merimac blushed at the praise of his son. “Thank you.”

__________________________________________________

No sooner had Merimac left than there was another knock on his door.

Paladin sighed. It seemed like he was fated to never finish this paperwork.

“Enter,” he said, with a touch of exasperation.

It was Poppy Burrows.

“Poppy! Has Opal taken a turn for the worse?”

“No.” She shook her head and laughed ruefully. “That is the first thing anyone thinks of when they see a healer: bad news about a patient. No, this is about me.”

“You?” Paladin felt a bit out of his depth, but then Poppy could always do that to him.

“I’ve been the Took family healer for thirty-five years. Have I ever taken any time off?”

“I don’t know? Have you?”

“Not for any length of time, I haven’t. But I want to make up for it now. I’d like to be off for a year.”

Paladin’s jaw dropped. “A *year*!”

“Now, now, don’t have apoplexy on me. Peregrin’s not ready to be Thain yet. I have made arrangements. Normally, I would have my apprentice take over, but Viola is still too young, and besides that I want her with me. However, Lavender Bunce is an excellent healer with a good reputation. She is willing to come and take over for me until I return.”

“Return?” Paladin felt completely confused. It seemed all he could do was echo her last word. “Where are you going?”

“I plan to accompany the ones who go South, of course. I want to learn some of those healing methods that the King uses, and some of those herbs that work so well for them. The time spent will be well worth it, for when we return, we will know so much more.”

“But--but what about Opal? What about Pimpernel’s baby? What about the Mistress’s headaches?” That worried him mightily; Eglantine was subject occasionally to dreadful headaches. “What about--”

“I told you, Lavender Bunce is an excellent healer. Her apprentice in Budgeford is old enough to take over for her, and there are a couple of other good healers there. Her husband is willing for her to do this, so I don’t see the problem.”

“But we’ll miss you, Poppy.” He thought he must sound like Pippin as a child whenever Merry went home to Buckland.

She laughed. “But I’ll be back. This is an opportunity to bring some much needed knowledge to the Shire. Think about it as Thain.”

He drew a deep breath. “You are absolutely right. And I have no right to forbid you anyway, you are not my family, though we have always thought of you that way.”

“I thank you for that, Paladin. Trust me that this is a good thing. And though I’d go even if you did forbid it, it is better that I have your leave to do so.” She smiled fondly, to take the sting out of her words. She had been ready to brave his temper. But she was glad that she’d not had to do so.

________________________________________________________________

It was early afternoon when Eradan looked up as two figures topped the shallow rise on the other side of Sarn Ford. “Mellor--someone’s coming.”

The Ranger of the North looked across. “Looks like the Thain’s messenger made good time indeed.”

As the figures became more visible, Eradan gave a start, and grinned. “It looks like it must be Sir Peregrin and Sir Meriadoc.” For of course, no other hobbits of the Shire wore the livery of Gondor and Rohan. Though neither he nor Mellor had ever met the two young Knights, they knew all about them.

The small prisoner gave a bit of a groan at the thought that they were coming to take him away--and *those* two! He had seen what Meriadoc Brandybuck had done to Banks’s sons.

Mellor gave him a grim smile. “The Thain must want you very badly to send his son and his nephew after you.”

By this time Merry and Pippin had reached the Ford. “Hoy!” cried Merry “We’re coming over!”

“Come right ahead!” called Mellor.

They splashed up out of the water and dismounted. “We’re Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck, at your service,” said Pippin, “the Thain sent us for your prisoner.”

“Certainly, Sir Peregrin,” said Mellor, “although we were not expecting to see you quite so soon.”

Merry gave Pybba an affectionate slap on the rump. “These two sturdy lads wanted to show off. I believe we raced almost the whole way here.” He laughed.

“And who won?” asked Mellor, smiling. These two had more than their fair share of hobbit charm, especially the Took.

“Well,” said Pippin, “we decided that over shorter distances, Sable here is definitely the faster--”

“But--” interrupted Merry, “over the longer distances, Pybba can easily leave him behind.” He turned to look at Dago, becoming serious. “So I see that you caught our runaway traitor.”

Bracegirdle flinched at the word. “I wasn’t a traitor! I was just making a business decision.” He quailed at the sudden blaze of fury coming from grey eyes and green. “I didn’t know what Lotho would do!”

“That’s a foul lie!” started Pippin hotly.

“Easy, Pip.” Merry gave Dago a disdainful glare. “You knew enough. Besides the decision’s been made and judgment rendered. You can take it up with the Thain and the assembly when we get back, if they will let you.”

“By the way,” said Mellor, “he tried to bribe me to let him go free. I believe you will find quite a bit of his ill-gotten gains on his pony.”

Pippin goggled at Dago. “You thought you could bribe one of the King’s Rangers? Bracegirdle, I don’t know how anyone as stupid as you could have lived this long!”

Mellor and Eradan both chortled at Pippin’s statement.

“Would you care to take some lunch with us before you head back?” asked Eradan. “We’ve a nice squirrel stew in the pot.”

Merry and Pippin looked at one another, and shrugged. “Why not, if you’ve enough, that is. We’ve just been snacking from our saddlebags, and haven’t really had a proper meal since we left last night,” answered Pippin.

“And then we will really have to go and take this wretch off your hands,” put in Merry.

Dago slumped in defeat, and sank back down to sit on the ground. Not for the first time, he wished his cousin Lobelia had never met Otho Sackville-Baggins.

______________________________________________________

CHAPTER 58

After sharing lunch with the Rangers, Merry and Pippin had left with their prisoner. He was placed on his pony, and his hands were tied to the pommel of his saddle. Pippin took the reins to lead the pony. They bade farewell to the Rangers, and splashed across the Ford. It would be a slightly longer journey returning, as they had to pace themselves for Bracegirdle’s pony.

__________________________________________________

“Well, Sam,” said Frodo, “I will see you back in Hobbiton in a few days. Have you told the Gaffer yet that you and Rosie are moving into Bag End after the wedding?” Frodo was concerned about this. He wanted to share Bag End with Sam and Rosie, but he was unsure how the Gaffer would take it.

“No, sir. I’m planning to do that when I get back. I’m sorry to leave you like this, but it’s only ten days until the wedding.” There was much work yet to be done, and starting in three days, he and Rosie had to put aside at least part of each day to sit for their gifts.

“I’ll be right behind you as soon as I can. And you won’t lack for company, since Legolas and Gimli are coming back to stay at Bag End. With Merry and Pippin off bringing Bracegirdle back and me stuck in assembly all day, I believe that they are getting a bit bored.”

“You don’t mind them staying in the smial without you there, Mr. Frodo?”

“Don’t be silly, Sam. I don’t mind it anymore than I would if Merry or Pip or you were staying there without me. After all, I think we decided long ago that the Fellowship is family.”

Sam grinned. “That it is, Mr. Frodo.”

“Very well. I guess I had better get to the assembly. I know that all of you will be gone before we recess for elevenses, so please take care and have a pleasant ride back. And give Rosie and Marigold my farewells also.”

_____________________________________________

The pale young lass in the bed looked up with a smile. “Prince Legolas! I’m so glad to see you today.” Garnet, who sat by her side also gave a shy smile to the elf.

“Good morning, Miss Opal. I just came to say farewell. Gimli and I are going back to Hobbiton with Samwise, Miss Rose and Miss Marigold to stay until the wedding.”

“I know,” replied Opal sadly. “For Rose and Marigold came to see me last night and told me. I know that they’ve much to do before the wedding, but I am going to miss them. I am going to miss you also.”

“And I, you, Miss Opal,” the Elf said formally.

“I never apologized,” she said.

Garnet looked up at the tall Elf. “I should have apologized as well. We were so rude to you.”

“So you were; but that was then. You are perfectly polite now, the both of you,” he chuckled.

Opal shook her head. “I should have known better. But all I wanted was for you to *notice* me,” she said forlornly.

He laughed outright. “Well, I did notice you. But not in a way that anyone would care to be noticed. I trust you can tell the difference now. Just being noticed is not enough--you must be noticed in the right way.”

She smiled at him, and then winced. Her pain draught was beginning to wear off. Garnet took her hand. She could have no more for a while, as Poppy did not want her to become too dependent on the medicine. “I think people would avoid us sometimes.”

Garnet shook her head. “I know people would avoid us sometimes. More often than not, in fact.”

Legolas leaned over and placed his large hand on Opal’s brow. He would give her surcease from pain one more time. She drifted off.

Garnet looked up at him. “Thank you, Prince Legolas. You have been so good to us.”

“Namarië , Miss Garnet. I do not know if we will return this way when we leave the Shire, but if we do, I shall try to see her again.”

She looked up at the tall Elf. “We will miss you.” She thought of all the years her mother had scoffed at the tales of Elves, and had said that it was no great loss if they all set sail and left Middle-earth. She’d never questioned it. But now she knew better.

____________________________________________

Paladin stood before the assembly. The idea of choosing people to have to leave the Shire to go so far away had not set well at first with the various clan heads. It seemed like a cruel sacrifice to have to ask of anyone. But with the knowledge that there were those who had actually *volunteered* to go, the resistance to the idea had dwindled. There had been much discussion of the merit of the four who had so far offered to go and now it was time to finalize the decision.

“So far it seems to be the consensus of the assembly that our envoys to Gondor now consist of Fredegar Bolger, Berilac Brandybuck, Denham Banks the younger, and Rollin Banks. We have also agreed that since three of the four are from Buckland, we will accept at least two more volunteers from another part of the Shire. However, we will not actively recruit anyone to volunteer, and if no one does so, the embassy will stand as it is.

It has also been noted that the healer, Mistress Poppy Burrows, and her apprentice, Miss Viola Harfoot, have asked permission to accompany the delegation unofficially, and that permission has been granted.

Is all of this correct?”

There was a chorus of agreement.

“Very well. This almost concludes the business of dealing with the Kings. We will dismiss the assembly for the rest of the day, and will meet one more time tomorrow. At that time, the three of us will sign the edict, and our seven witnesses. We will also have a chance to deal with any other business that may have arisen.”

The assembly understood this to mean the imminent arrival of Dago Bracegirdle, in the custody of Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took.

__________________________________________________

Odovocar Bolger sought out Ponto Baggins as the various hobbits filed out of the pavilion.

“Ponto.”

“Odovocar,” replied the elderly Baggins.

The Bolger slowed his pace to walk alongside him. “I suppose you have noticed that Fredegar has managed to seek out your daughter’s company for the last few days.”

Ponto nodded. “I have. I wonder that he has sought to pay her attentions, when he is going to be going away for so long.”

“My son will be gone for a year. I am hoping that he can use that time to lay aside some of his grief for the sad things that happened during the Troubles. When he returns, he may be ready to take up a normal life again.”

“Well,” said Ponto, “I will confess that I once had hopes of making a very different match for my daughter. But it is very clear to me now that hope will come to nothing.” Frodo’d had a quiet talk with Ponto the day after the Ball, and had explained his circumstances. By the time Frodo finished, Ponto felt badly that he had ever tried to have Angelica make the attempt. It had been very unwise. He realized now that he would have to resign himself to any future grandchildren having a different surname. “I have a good opinion of Freddy, and he certainly showed his mettle in the Resistance. If Angelica is still of the same mind when he returns, I would certainly have no problem if he wishes to pay her court.”

_______________________________________________________

Freddy, Angelica and Estella were walking the streets of Tuckborough, doing a bit of shopping and talking.

“Freddy,” said Angelica, “you know I am going to miss you while you are gone.”

“I will miss you as well. But I think it is for the best that I get away from the Shire for a little while.”

She shuddered. “Aren’t you afraid? It is bound to be dangerous.”

Freddy laughed bitterly. “How much more dangerous could it be than the Shire was last year? I will be going in the company of warriors, to the court of a King who seems to be fond of hobbits. I’m sure that there is some danger, but it seems much less perilous now than at one time it did.”

Estella, who was walking a discreet few steps ahead of them, sighed. “I wonder how soon Merry will be back?”

________________________________________________________

“Thunder!” said Pippin. “This makes me mad! We could be home to the Great Smials in time for tea, and instead, we are stuck here in Pincup.”

Dago muttered “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t really. He was not eager to get back and have to face the Thain and the assembly. Still it wasn’t his fault his pony threw a shoe. He was tired and hungry; they had ridden almost straight through so far, with only a brief cold camp at night, and that only so as not to punish his pony. As for food, they had eaten mostly from the saddlebags: fruit, pastries, bread, cheese and water. There was not nearly enough to suit him, although Merry and Pippin seemed not to notice how short the rations were.

“Well,” put in Merry, “it does have it’s advantages. Since the blacksmith can’t shoe the pony till morning, we can take him up on his invitation to stay with him and his family tonight and have a proper meal.”

“Do you think we *should*? I mean, with *him*--” Pippin gestured at Dago. Neither he nor Merry had referred to their prisoner by name since he had come into their keeping. “along, and all?” Pippin was dubious.

“I don’t see why not. We’ll untie his hands so he can eat. He’s not going anywhere.” Merry gave Dago the same kind of mirthless grin he had used on the Banks brothers. It had much the same effect on Bracegirdle, and was far more effective than a scowl. Dago could still see in his mind’s eye that scene in the ballroom, and Banks’s sons keeling over in agony. He had been observing these two on the journey, and he now believed every story he had ever heard about them. They were hard now, seasoned warriors in a way that hobbits were unaccustomed to, and it was clear they had nothing but contempt for him.

Merry stepped back into the smithy. “Master Diggle, we will take you up on your kind offer to let us stay with you tonight. It’s a shame The Oak and Thorn is not ready yet for custom. But that will soon change.”

“Well, I’m that honored, Mr. Merry, to have you and Mr. Pippin break your journey with us. I’ll go tell the Missus we have guests.” He looked darkly at the prisoner. “What about *that one*?”

“Oh, he can eat. And we’ll keep a close eye on him. The Thain wants to see him very badly.”

_____________________________________________________

“Mistress Brandybuck?”

“Yes, Bergil?” Bergil had been forlornly following at Esmeralda’s heels for almost three days now.

“How soon do you think Sir Pippin will be back?” He had asked her that at least once an hour for the whole three days. Pippin had told Paladin he thought the lad was getting homesick, and she was fairly certain that was correct, but the other factor was that he had grown accustomed to having Pippin and Pippin’s attention since he had arrived in the Shire. Eglantine had observed this, and had laughed at her. “Now you know what Pippin used to do for weeks after Merry left from one of his visits: ’Mother, when is Merry coming back?’”

She swallowed her exasperation, and not a hint of it showed as she answered, “I’m not certain, lad, but it could be at any time now. Why don’t you go on down to the encampment? I think you said that Anwynd was going to give you another flute lesson today?”

His face lit up. “Oh, yes! I almost forgot. Thank you, Mistress Brandybuck!”

She gave a chuckle as he raced away. He loved music almost as much as her nephew did. She was really going to miss this lad when the delegation finally left. In spite of his size, she sometimes even forgot he was not a hobbit lad.

______________________________________________________

Sam, Rose, Marigold, Legolas and Gimli rode into the lane leading up to the Cotton farm.

Tom and Jolly saw them coming and raced in their direction, Jolly shouting “Ma! Dad! Rosie’s back!”

Tom swung Marigold down from her pony and gave her a resounding kiss.

She gasped. “Tolman Cotton! We’re in plain view here! Behave yourself!”

“Oh, Mari, I have missed you!”

“Well, I missed you, too Tom, but where are your manners?”

He looked up. “Hullo Sam, Master Legolas, Master Gimli.”

Jolly was helping Rose down from her pony, and he also greeted the others, as his parents, Nick and Nibs also came running up.

They were all asked to stay for tea, and joined the Cotton family in their cozy kitchen. As they ate, Sam, Legolas and Gimli filled the Cottons in on the news from the assembly.

“What did you say, Sam, about hobbits travelling away South to see the King?” asked Tom.

“Well, they have picked four so far. Really, it’s the only four who’ve said they want to go.” He grinned. “Mr. Freddy, Mr. Fredegar Bolger, as I should say, Mr. Berilac Brandybuck, and Rolly and Denny Banks, the ones as used to be the bridgetenders. And the Thain’s healer, Mistress Poppy Burrows is going to go along to learn of some of the ways of healing from the King, and her apprentice along with her. They‘ll be gone about a year all told.”

“Captain Freddy is going?” asked Jolly, eyes wide.

Legolas nodded. The Elf and Gimli had enjoyed their tea, but had not much to say in the conversation; Gimli, of course was naturally taciturn, but Legolas tried to avoid intimidating the hobbits. The Cottons, however, seemed to take their cue from Sam, and were treating him respectfully but not bashfully. “I think,” he said “that Master Fredegar would like to find himself in new surroundings, and get away from sorrowful memories for a while.”

Tom and Jolly both nodded at this. They had been a part of Freddy’s band during the Troubles, though at the time that the rest of the group had been captured and put in the Lockholes, the Cotton brothers and a few others had not been with them. Both of them were well aware of why Fredegar had taken on Lotho and Sharkey. Many a night they had watched their leader sit by the fire and stare at his murdered friend’s flute.

Tom shook his head. “Even so, I can’t imagine Captain Freddy out of the Shire.”

“I can,” said Jolly, his eyes glittering.

Sam looked at the gleam in Jolly’s eye, and raised a brow.

____________________________________________

“Thank you, Mrs. Diggle, for a most delicious meal,” said Pippin.

Merry was busy tying Dago’s hands up again. As soon as he got him tied up, they were going to relax and have a pipe. Merry led the prisoner to a corner of the room and sat him down there. Dago sighed. He had a pipe, and a pouch of leaf, but he had not had a taste of it since these two had taken custody of him.

The two knights lit their pipes, and sat back to converse with the blacksmith and his wife filling them in on the details of what had been going on in Tuckborough.

The blacksmith shook his head, and turned to give a black look to Bracegirdle. “I am sorely angered by *that one* and those Bankses. Just think, if it hadn’t been for them none of them awful things last year would have ever happened.” He shook his head.

Hearing it put that way, and realizing what the opinion of the other hobbits was likely to be, the prisoner shuddered. Was it really his fault? Just because he wanted to make a little profit?

And much as he tried to do so, he could not convince himself that he had not known the kind of thing Lotho was capable of. For the first time, he began to feel shame.

__________________________________________________

CHAPTER 59

At the door of Bag End, Sam said farewell to Legolas and Gimli. They had already left Rosie at the Cotton’s and now he and Marigold were to go on down to the Gaffer’s new hole.

“I’m sorry to say, I won’t see much of you the next few days.”

“I know,” said Legolas, “that there is much preparation still to be done for your wedding.”

“Aye, lad,” put in Gimli, “we’d not expect you to dance attendance on us right now. Is there aught we can do to be of help?”

“Maybe later,” said Sam. “But tomorrow is the day for the Talk, and then from luncheon to teatime every day, I’m to be in the Cotton’s parlor with Rosie, for the well-wishers to bring the gifts.”

“Yes, Frodo explained about the gift-giving customs of hobbits. He said your people consider it bad luck to give any gift but flowers at the wedding itself,” said Gimli. “He said the rest of the gifts have to be brought to you before the wedding.”

“Samwise?” asked Legolas, “what do you mean by the Talk?”

“Oh, that’s when my old Dad and Rosie’s come together and have a bit of a chat with me about marriage. Rosie’s mum and my sister Daisy will do the same for her.”

“Sam, surely you don’t mean to tell me that your people wait until just before marriage to tell about--”

“And what’s wrong with that?” asked Gimli belligerently.

Now Elf and Hobbit stared at the Dwarf, and that bit of insight into Dwarf customs. Amazing.

“No sir, Mr. Legolas. I know the kind of thing you mean. Hobbits mostly hear that from their parents when they are young tweenagers, or maybe even older teens. No, this is where they will be telling me about what it’s like *being* married. A bit of advice, as it were, on getting along and making a go of it.” He cast a mischievous look at his sister Marigold, who was listening to the conversation. “Like what to do when you have a fight with the missus and she says ‘if you don’t know what you did wrong, then I’m not going to tell you!’.”

“Sam!” she gasped.

Legolas laughed. “I think I have heard Elven maidens say that very thing. Surely your Rosie would not say that to you!”

“Well, she never has yet, but there are some within earshot who have said just that to their intendeds.”

Marigold flounced a bit, where she sat on the pony. “Well, we had great fun making up again. You and Rosie never fight, so you’ll never have the fun of making up.”

“Aye,” said Sam, “that’s true. We’ll just have to have the fun without making ourselves miserable first, I guess. I suppose we won’t know what we’re missing out on,” he answered his sister smugly.

Legolas and Gimli both laughed, and waved farewell as Sam and his sister rode on down the Hill.

___________________________________________________

It was still dark out the following morning when Master Diggle roused his guests. He went on out to the smithy to shoe Bracegirdle’s pony, while Merry, Pippin and their prisoner had a first breakfast from the hearth: hearty porridge and dark, fresh bread their hostess had left for them.

They were just beginning to consider the advisability of a second breakfast when the smith came in to tell them the pony was ready.

Without more ado, they collected the prisoner, mounted up and headed for Tuckborough.

____________________________________________________

That morning was supposed to be the last for the assembly. Paladin, Saradoc and Frodo were a bit concerned, as Merry and Pippin had not yet arrived with Bracegirdle. If they did not show before the end of the day, they might be stuck with convening again tomorrow. But Frodo, in particular, was eager to see an end to this. He wanted to get back to Bag End and help Sam out with the wedding.

On the table at the front of the assembly were spread two copies of the King’s edict, a bottle of red ink and a couple of fresh new quills. The hobbits filed in solemnly and took their seats this morning with a minimum of talk. This was a high and historic occasion.

Targon was there, as the King’s representative, ready to sign on his behalf.

Paladin, Saradoc and Frodo stood by the table, and in his melodious voice, Frodo read aloud the edict once more, from beginning to end. When he finished, Paladin asked: “Is it the consensus of the families that we ratify the decrees of our King?”

The chorus of agreement was immediate.

Paladin called forth the witnesses: “Everard Took; Merimac Brandybuck; Ponto Baggins; Odovocar Bolger; Olo Proudfoot; Milo Burrows; Denham Banks.”

Targon signed first, for the King. Then Paladin, Saradoc and Frodo added their signatures. Finally, each witness stepped up and added his name. They repeated this for the second document.

Targon stood forth: “On behalf of His Majesty, King Elessar Telcontar, High King of Gondor and Arnor, Captain of the West, I tender his thanks. It is because of the race of the pheriannath, the Ringbearers, and their companions, that the world was freed from great evil. The Shire will forever be honored because of them.”

Frodo blushed. He had been afraid of something like this. Thank goodness this would be the end of it.

Paladin and Saradoc looked at each other. In a moment they would either dismiss the assembly for elevenses to reconvene or dismiss them altogether. Where on earth could--there was a slight stir near the entrance to the pavilion, and they looked up to see Pippin grinning at them. He nodded.

Saradoc spoke out. “Gentlehobbits, we will recess the assembly until after luncheon, when we will meet one last time to carry out the sentence on Dago Bracegirdle for collaboration with the Enemy.”

____________________________________________________

The three worthies and Targon were in discussion over Dago’s fate. Unlike the Bankses, whose offences could technically be said to be against the King of Rohan for the assault on Danulf, Dago Bracegirdle was guilty of treachery only. It was the extent of his treachery that would determine his fate, which would rest in the hand of the High King.

“If you Men were not here, he would simply be Marked and banished. But you are here, and will be able to take him away to the King,” said Paladin.

Targon nodded. “It is within the power of the King to decide how deep his treachery lay. If it is determined that he was merely a pawn, he will probably only be served with a brief term of imprisonment. Be aware, however, that he could just as easily be sentenced to execution if it is decided that he was more deeply involved than we now believe him to be.”

Saradoc and Paladin looked at each other. “We could decide not to turn him over without assurances that he will not be executed,” said Saradoc.

Frodo shook his head. “Aragorn has trusted us thus far, to see his will done. I think that now we shall have to trust him. I cannot for the life of me see him sentencing a hobbit to execution, whether it is his right or no. Dago is a greedy fool, and so is Clodio, but I do not think they knew what they were getting into with this. And I am certain that neither of them had any idea of who Saruman was.”

“However,” said Paladin, “though I believe that what Frodo tells us is true, it will not hurt to allow him to think that he could be put to death, for a while, anyway.”

_____________________________________________________

Eglantine and Pearl were on their way to see Opal. They’d not visited as often as some of the others had, but now that several of the others had left, Tina felt it important to lend their support.

They found both her sisters there with her.

“Good morning, lasses,” said Eglantine, as she bent to bestow a kiss on Opal’s brow. “How are you faring today, Opal.”

“I hurt, Cousin Tina,” she said, simply, “but that’s only to be expected.”

Eglantine felt her heart give lurch. The old Opal would probably have been screaming and crying and having a tantrum. She almost thought that might be preferable to this passive acceptance of pain. But these lasses had been remarkably subdued since their mother had been banished. She tightened her lips at the thought of Hyacinth. Primrose had brought her word that Hyacinth’s relatives had indeed taken her in, but that her status in her family was so low that she might as well have been a servant. It might be petty, but Eglantine found herself glad at the news.

“Amethyst and Garnet, I came to see if perhaps the two of you and your father would like to join the family for private dinner in our quarters tonight.” This was not an invitation that had ever been extended when Hyacinth had been there.

Opal’s sisters looked at one another. “I don’t see how we can leave her alone, Cousin Tina,” answered Amethyst.

Pearl smiled. “I thought perhaps she might enjoy my company for an evening.”

______________________________________________________

After luncheon, the assembly filed back into the pavilion one last time. Once everyone was seated, Merry and Pippin escorted Dago Bracegirdle to the front, amid a loud chorus of catcalls and boos. Targon stood at the front with Paladin, Saradoc and Frodo.

Paladin looked at him with contempt. “Dago Bracegirdle, it is the will of the assembly that you be Marked for your treachery, and then turned over to the representative of the King, that you may be taken before the King in Gondor. There he will decide your punishment for conspiring with the Enemy to despoil the Shire.”

“But--but I thought I was to be banished!”

“We have a King now,” said Frodo. “we cannot simply be pushing our criminals over the borders of the Shire to roam loose in his Kingdom and cause him further trouble.”

“Take him,” said Paladin to Targon, who nodded and led the despairing prisoner off.

Saradoc looked over at the assembled hobbits, who looked a bit subdued. “Is it the consensus of the families to dismiss the assembly?”

At this, there was a resounding shout of “Aye!”

The convocation was over, and would not be needed again until it was time to elect a new Mayor.

____________________________________________________

Merry and Pippin had finished with their task now, and headed back to the Smials in companionable silence. Suddenly they found themselves tackled by an enthusiastic whirlwind.

“Sir Pippin! You’re back!” cried Bergil. He lifted Pippin clear off the ground and swung him round.

“Oof! Easy lad,” he laughed. “I’m glad to see you too.”

______________________________________________________

É

CHAPTER 60

“Are you sure that you don’t want to stay one more day, Frodo?” Pippin asked. “Some of us are going to Pincup for a picnic tomorrow, and to take Mrs. Diggle a token of appreciation for her hospitality.”

“No, I want to get back to Bag End, to help Sam with the wedding and to spend a bit of time with Legolas and Gimli.” He sighed. Things had been far more hectic in the Shire since their return than he would have liked. “So I will leave right after first breakfast in the morning. I’d leave tonight, but I don’t fancy riding in the dark.”

Pippin nodded. “I understand. Well, Merry and Freddy and I will be along in another day or so.” He was quiet for a moment. “Would you mind if Bergil came along also? He made quite a pest of himself while Merry and I were gone. He missed me a lot.” Pippin sounded a bit surprised at this.

“Of course he missed you, goose. You are very ‘missable’ when you are not around. Bring him if you will. He is a good lad.” Frodo smiled fondly at Pippin, and ruffled his hair as though he were still a young lad himself. It was a gesture that he would have resented from anyone else, but from Frodo it was wonderful. He had been missing Frodo even in his presence for far too long.

“Well, then, good night. We will see you in the morning, as we are going to go for our picnic right after first breakfast ourselves.”

____________________________________________________

The weather was lovely the next morning, if just a bit unseasonably warm, and it was a jolly group set out for Pincup.

Along with Pippin, Merry, Freddy and Bergil, were Estella and Angelica. Estella rode with Merry and Angelica rode with Freddy. Bergil, of course, had his own pony. In a cart accompanying them were Pimmie and Milo, with their little ones and Vinca and Tanto with little Largo. The provisions were also in the cart, a veritable feast. There was also a nicely smoked ham that Merry and Pippin planned to give Mrs. Diggle.

Pippin and Bergil had also planned a surprise for the little ones, and they talked about it as they rode, just a bit behind everyone else.

“Do you really think they will like it, Sir Pippin?” asked Bergil. “Since you say it is not something hobbits have done?”

“Exactly why they will love it, Bergil-lad. It will be something new. And it is a simple enough thing. I’m glad you told me about it.” He laughed. “I’m just glad we were able to find enough old pipes to use.”

“I think pipes a splendid idea. I never would have thought of that.”

“Just seemed to make sense, lad.”

The little group went on in to the village, and stopped by the smithy.

“Master Diggle!” called Merry.

“Why, it’s Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin. I see you’ve friends with you today. What brings you here?”

“Why nothing more than a good day for a picnic,” answered Merry.

“But we thought we would stop by and pay our respects to your wife. We have a little token of appreciation for her hospitality,” said Pippin.

‘Well, that is right nice of you, sirs. I know she will be glad of it.”

Merry and Pippin dismounted and took the ham up to the small cottage behind the smithy. Mrs. Diggle was indeed very glad of it, and gladder still to see the two dashing young hobbits, who had made quite an impression on her. Nothing would do but that she come down and meet everyone.

They politely declined her invitation to stay for elevenses, as they were set on their picnic. They bade her and her husband farewell, and went on through the village to the other side.

About a mile south of the village was a large glade, used from time to time by generations of hobbits as a prime picnic spot. It was wide and grassy. Fallen logs had been rolled to the center, to be convenient seats. The glade overlooked a small pond, handy for the occasional angler, shallow enough at the edge for wading, and deep enough toward the center for the rare hobbit who fancied a swim.

As the lasses busied themselves setting out the picnic, Pippin and Bergil sat Flora and little Alyssum down on a nearby log. Bergil took out a jar he had been carefully carrying and opened it. Pippin brought out about half a dozen old pipes he had located in one of the mathom-rooms and had carefully scrubbed clean of the least traces of pipe-weed.

“What have you got there, Pip?” asked Merry curiously. Freddy, Milo and Tanto were also watching intently. Tanto had little Largo in his arms.

“It’s soap, Sir Merry,” said Bergil. “Soft soap dissolved in some water. Watch this.” He took one of the pipes and dunked it into the liquid and then softly blew through the pipe-stem. Out rose a beautiful round bubble, to float above their heads. The little ones giggled and clapped their hands in glee, and even the adults watched in fascination.

“Here,” said Pippin, “let me have a go.” He too, blew out a lovely bubble.

“Oh, Sir Pippin! The pipes work even better than the reeds we use at home! You can blow several at a time with them, but they are all small bubbles. The pipes make lovely large ones.” Bergil blew another, and then as it floated off Alyssum reached up and touched it. It burst, and her eyes grew wide.

“Unca Pip,” said Flora “let me!”

“Flora!” said her father “What are you supposed to say?”

She sighed. “Let me, please!”

“Of course, dearheart,” said her uncle. He took one of the pipes and carefully dipped it, and held it up for her to blow. Quite a large bubble appeared at the end of the pipe-bowl, but when she grew excited and blew harder, it popped. She looked at her uncle questioningly.

“That’s all right. We’ve lots of bubble soap. You must just try again.” Patiently Pippin dipped it for her again.

Bergil showed Milo how to do it, and soon the other adults were following suit. There were dozens of bubbles of various sizes floating about, and Alyssum was trying to toddle after them, though she could barely yet stand. Flora had finally caught on to how it was done, and laughed gleefully every time she successfully launched another. Even little Largo’s eyes grew wide, as his father blew them in front of his face and they floated off.

Merry tried a few, and then stopped as he felt Estella come up beside him.

“May I try?” she asked.

He handed the pipe over to her with a flourish. She grinned at him, and then dipped it as she had seen him do. She blew a beautiful large one.

“Very good, Estella!” he said, smiling at her. “Is it time yet to eat, or do we have time for a short stroll?”

She passed the bubble-pipe over to her brother. Freddy had been waiting with a bit of impatience to try. “I think we could perhaps stroll over to the pond.”

As they ambled off, Freddy was showing Angelica how to do it.

Bergil and Pippin had now handed their own pipes off, and stood back to watch the others.

“This was a wonderful idea, Bergil,” said Pippin. “Thank you for suggesting it.”

Bergil blushed at the praise. “I just thought it might be something fun for the little ones to do. When I was only a child, my father used to do that for me, and I liked it quite well.”

Pippin managed to turn the laugh that threatened him into a cough. He would not want to hurt Bergil’s feelings for the world. When he was a child, indeed!

Just then Pimpernel called out that the food was ready, and bubbles were forgotten in the rush to the lavish spread laid out before them.

________________________________________________

Poppy was checking on her patient. Opal lay there as the healer dangled her bone disk, watching it carefully as it swung. Physically, Opal was doing as well as could be expected, but Poppy was concerned that she seemed to be growing melancholy. A certain amount of that was natural, of course, but she did not want it to grow too deep, or linger too long. She thought of Frodo Baggins, still carrying the grief of his parent’s death. After nearly forty years it weighed on him still, along with some fresher griefs that she could not fathom. She had no intention of allowing Opal to come to that.

“Opal,” she said, “something is troubling you besides the obvious. Can you tell me what it is?”

The lass looked at her wide-eyed. “Mistress Poppy, what is to become of me? All my mother ever wanted me to do was to marry someone rich and of high status. I rather hoped he would be young and handsome as well. I don’t think any of that is going to happen now. No one will want to wed a crippled, one-legged lass. And to tell the truth, I’m not so keen on the idea of marrying anymore. But all that is left is for me to be a burden on my father and my sisters.”

Poppy nodded. This was a serious concern, and not something that could be made better by saying “Don’t worry, all will be well.” She sighed. “I do not know, Opal. I do know that you do not need to be any more crippled than you’ve a mind to. Once your other leg heals enough, you can learn to get about on crutches. I have even heard of a hobbit in the North Farthing who gets about quite well on a limb made of wood, and I have asked Lavender to inquire about him, in case that may be something that could help you.”

Opal sighed. “It doesn’t sound very nice, but anything would be better than lying in my bed for the rest of my life. I would like to do something *useful*.”

“What kind of useful thing would you like to do?”

Opal blushed. “I know it’s impossible. Even if I weren’t crippled, I’m not smart enough.”

“You are a great deal brighter than you give yourself credit for, dear. You’ve just never had any reason to develop your intelligence. Now tell me what it is that you have thought of, that you think must be impossible.”

“I wish I could be a healer--like you,” she finally said, shyly.

“Ah,” Poppy nodded. This would not be the first time she had a young patient whom she had brought through a serious trauma, who decided that being a healer was what she wanted. One or two had even gone on to become apprenticed to her. Instead of answering, she slipped the disk from around her neck. “Hold out your hand,” she instructed, “take it.”

Opal stared at her, not understanding.

“Take it, and hold it as I do.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, looking like a small child given her first important task.

“Now, hold it so that it hangs over my forearm.”

The lass did this, looking puzzled. Slowly it began to swing in a gentle circle. “Mistress Poppy! I’m not moving it!”

“I know.” Poppy smiled gently. “Now hold it over my elbow.”

When Opal did this the pattern of the movement changed, and became erratic. She looked up in dismay.

“That’s quite all right, dear. I have a bit of joint ill in that elbow, and so the pattern shows.”

She held out her hand and took the disk back, slipping it once more around her neck. “I will not hide it from you that you have a long way to go, even to walk again. But if you are diligent while I am gone, and do as Mistress Lavender tells you, to become as strong as you can, then when I return I will ask your father if he minds you apprenticing to me. Viola will be ready to move on in two or three years, and I like to start a new apprentice before the old one leaves.” For a few years earlier, she had found herself for a time without any apprentice, and she did not like it a bit.

And Opal’s face lit up, into perhaps the first genuine grin of her life.

____________________________________________________

Freddy and Angelica sat on a log overlooking the pond, and watched as Merry, Pippin and Bergil swam, splashing and diving about. He shuddered. In spite of the fact that they appeared to be having fun, it just seemed far to perilous to him. He looked at the lass beside him. He could tell she had the same mixed feelings about it.

She looked up at him ruefully. “I suppose it would be a useful thing to know, if you ever happened to fall into deep water, but I can’t say that I understand why anyone would find it to be *fun*.”

“I know. My sentiments exactly. Yet they do appear to be enjoying themselves.”

“Yes. But that’s a Brandybuck, a Took and a Man-child down there. Of course they behave a bit oddly.” She giggled.

“Ah, and Bagginses *never* behave oddly, do they?” Freddy quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Only when they have some Took in them. I suppose that goes for the Bolgers, too.”

“Well, I have my share of Took blood, if that’s what you mean. But my mother is just about the least Tookish Took I know.”

She laughed at that. “I would agree. But you must have some of the Tookishness that skipped her. Going off to a far kingdom for a year. That’s an adventure, that is. And you don’t even have the excuse Bilbo had of acting impulsively, or that Frodo seemed to have had with Bilbo’s trouble following him.”

“Angelica, do you have any idea of what hardships Frodo faced?” he asked seriously.

She thought back to her conversation with her cousin on the terrace the night of the Ball. “I do have some idea, yes.” And her mood became somber. “Why *are* you going away?” She left the word *now* unspoken, though she wondered. For it seemed to her that the two of them had found something good, and why should he want to go off and leave that?

“I’ve so many sad memories right now. I need to get away from the reminders for a while, and finish my grieving for Folco.”

She hung her head, feeling ashamed. “I never really saw much in him, I’m afraid. He must have shown you something different, to make you love him so much.”

“Not really. Folco was Folco. He never thought before he spoke, and when he did think, it often made things worse. But he had a big heart. He offended a lot of people, but never once on purpose. No one was more generous. And he had music in him. When he would play his flute, he would be lost in another world, and he would take me with him.” Freddy’s eyes filled with tears, and Angelica laid her hand on his arm. “I suppose it was that we had been friends for so long. I could not remember a time without him.” His face darkened. “And of course the manner of his death made it that much worse. I know that Lotho suffered a grim fate, but I do not feel any pity for him at all. And I would give much to put my hands on Sandyman.”

This was a side to Freddy that Angelica had heard about, but not seen. This was what had driven him to rebel. It was disturbing. She remembered how Estella had reacted to Merry’s act of revenge. She had always thought vengeance was not very hobbit-like, but obviously she was wrong.

She glanced over at Estella who stood a few feet away, and was obviously enjoying the sight of Merry gamboling about in the water, shirtless. Estella felt her friend’s regard, and tipped Angelica a wink.

The three pulled themselves out of the water, clad only in their breeches. They’d let the sun dry them as best they could.

Pimpernel and Pervinca looked at Pippin as he pulled his shirt on quickly. Merry did not have nearly the number of scars that Pippin did, and their brother was a bit self-conscious about them. Pimpernel shuddered, and Milo put his arm around her.

“Be glad, sweetheart, that he came back to us. He doesn’t begrudge the things he did,” said Milo.

“I know. But he suffered; they all suffered.”

“They are not suffering anymore though. Look at them!” Now Pippin was chasing Bergil, both of them laughing so hard it was a wonder they had breath to run.

Pimmie nodded. But she remembered Frodo’s admission at the Ball. That was one who suffered still. And she thought of the nightmares that still haunted her brother and cousin. Not all the suffering was over.

_____________________________________________________

Frodo pulled his pony up as he topped the rise in the road. There was the Hill, and Bag End, and home.

CHAPTER 61

The next morning Frodo was up early, waking to the smell of breakfast cooking.

He went into the kitchen and found Sam busy cooking.

“Sam, what on earth are you doing here so early this morning?” asked Frodo. “You’ve got far too much to do for the wedding to be here making my breakfast!”

“That’s *why* I’m here early, Mr. Frodo. I thought you and Mr. Gimli would be enjoying a bit of breakfast before I start on the kitchen garden; Mr. Legolas has already gone out for his walk of a morning. But with all the things I have to do, and having to go to Rosie’s to sit for the gifts in the afternoon, I knew I’d better get a start on things early if I’m to get anything done here at all.”

“Sam, you know I meant for you to be taking time off!”

Sam laughed. “Mr. Frodo, I’ve had more than enough time off this Spring. If I don’t spend a bit of time here now, before the wedding, I’m going to have to spend it after. I don’t think you want me to have to take my honeymoon weeding the flowerbeds?” He laughed good-naturedly.

Frodo sighed. “Well, I guess you know your own business better than I do, so I’ll say no more. But I want you to let Rosie know you are your own taskmaster in this. I don’t want her to think I’m taking advantage of you.”

Sam looked scandalized. “Why, Mr. Frodo! She never would!” He expertly flipped the pancake he was making. “What do you have planned today, sir?”

“This morning I need to go see the woodwright, and find out if he has finished the new beds for Merry’s and Pippin’s guest rooms. They will be here soon, maybe this very evening, or tomorrow at the latest, and I’d like the beds in place before they arrive, if possible, especially since Pippin’s young friend Bergil is coming with them.”

“Is he really?” asked Sam, and then smiled slyly. “You did remember to order new sheets?”

Frodo snorted. “Yes, I did. I’m not likely to forget the mistake Bilbo almost made.”

Both hobbits laughed at this, remembering when Bilbo had built the new guest room for Gandalf, and had nearly forgotten that hobbit sized sheets would not fit a Man-sized bed.

Just then Gimli came in, drawn by the wonderful smells of Sam’s cooking, and the three sat down to breakfast.

_____________________________________________________

“Well, Mr. Tunelly, the beds look just fine! I’m very pleased with the workmanship.”

They were in fact, sturdy and well built, half again as wide, and nearly two feet longer, than the average hobbit bed, but not quite as large as a Man-sized bed. The headboards had been carved, one with the tree and stars of Gondor, and the other with the running horse of Rohan. Otherwise, they were plain, but the grain of the wood perfectly matched and the finish was a glossy shine.

“Can you have them delivered and set up this afternoon?” Frodo asked, as he handed over the agreed upon payment.

“Most certainly, Mr. Baggins. I’ll send ‘em up along with a couple of my sturdy lads, right after luncheon.”

“Very good,” said Frodo. “I’ll be expecting them, then.”

After leaving the woodwright’s shop, Frodo headed for his lawyer’s office. He had a bit of business to conduct, that he had been putting off for some little while.

“Mr. Baggins, it’s good to see you,” said the lawyer. Mr. Grubb could remember when he was just a lad, and his grandfather had handled Frodo’s adoption by Bilbo. He had only been fourteen at the time, but he recalled it well. What a happy time that had been, though it was the occasion of much gossip, a lot of it evil-minded and started by the Sackville-Baggins.

“It’s nice to see you again, as well, Mr. Grubb. How is your grandfather?”

“Getting on in years. I am afraid he spends much of his time sleeping.” Grubb sighed. “Now, what can I do for you today?”

“Well, as you know, the circumstances under which I made my last will are somewhat changed. When I left, I fully expected never to return. Nor did I expect my cousins to accompany me. That was a bit of a surprise for me, I am afraid. And of course, Samwise was accompanying me.”

Grubb nodded. Under those circumstances, Frodo had made young Meriadoc and young Peregrin his legatees, not knowing that it would be useless to do so.

“My health is not what it once was. There is no chance now of my marrying or having children of my own. As there are no other male Baggins in my generation, there should be no problem in allowing me to choose a non-Baggins as my heir. Merry and Pippin have all they need and then some. I would like to make my heir Samwise Gamgee.”

“You do realize there will be some spiteful things said about this. I know Samwise, and am aware that he would be quite worthy, but there are those who will hold the fact of his being your gardener against him.”

Frodo’s eyes sparked with a rare anger. “They will be quite out of countenance if they do. I do believe it has been established that he holds one of the highest ranks in the re-established Kingdoms, and that he has the close friendship of the King, not to mention the future Master of Buckland and the future Thain of the Shire. Anyone who does not show him all the honor he deserves will find the problem on his or her own doorstep.”

Grubb grinned. “I think you are quite right. But it was my duty as your lawyer to mention it.”

“I would like to keep this will as quiet as possible. If you could arrange to have it drawn up, and will find six of the witnesses, people whom you trust to keep their silence, I will provide the seventh. I would prefer to do this in your office. I do not want Sam to know. For of all the people who will object, he himself would object the loudest.” And now Frodo allowed himself a sly smile.

“Very well,” said Grubb, smiling himself, and imagining the surprise all this would be to the humble young gardener. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes; please make the usual arrangements for a Baggins,” and now he looked thoughtful. “You know the clause I mean.”

“Ah. The one about taking effect if you leave the Shire permanently.”

“That’s the one. I *am* Bilbo’s heir after all. No need of taking chances.” Frodo glanced away and bit his thumbnail.

Grubb nodded, and made a note. He also made note to himself that it appeared Frodo Baggins might very well consider leaving the Shire again. A shame really, that he could not find it in himself to settle down, but there it was--he was a Baggins, with a good deal of Took and Brandybuck in him. A very dangerous combination, and not one Grubb thought was conducive to a quiet life.

__________________________________________________

Frodo left the lawyer’s office and stopped off briefly at the seamstress’s, to see if the sheets and bedcoverings he had ordered were finished. They were, and Frodo arranged for them to be delivered after luncheon. With any luck, they would arrive at about the same time as the new beds.

As he passed Bagshot Row--no, New Row, now--Marigold called out to him. “Hello, Mr. Frodo, how are you doing today?”

“I’m doing well enough, Marigold. Is Sam here?”

“He just came in for lunch a moment ago. He’s in the kitchen washing up. Would you care to take lunch with us? We‘ve a bit of nice vegetable soup and some dark bread.”

“Why, yes, thank you. That sounds very nice. I shan‘t be able to linger, though, as I‘m expecting some deliveries this afternoon. Do you think you could come up and prepare the guest rooms for me? I am expecting Merry, Pippin and Fredegar tonight or tomorrow. Oh, and Pippin‘s young friend Bergil as well.”

“Certainly, Mr. Frodo. And we’ll have to have a quick lunch anyway, as Sam has to go over to the Cotton’s afterwards.” She grinned.

“Ah, yes, to sit for the wedding gifts.”

After lunch, the Gaffer retired for a nap, Sam took Bill the Pony and headed for the Cotton farm, and Marigold walked up to Bag End with Frodo.

She kept looking as though she wanted to ask him a question. Finally, Frodo looked at her and said “Out with it, Marigold. What do you want to know?”

She blushed. “Well, Mr. Frodo, Tom and I will be getting wed ourselves, and we’ve decided to do it during Lithe. Seeing as how you are doing the marrying for Sam and Rosie, it seemed to me as how maybe you might could do it for us, too?”

“I would be honored Marigold. In fact, I have made up my mind to give over being Deputy Mayor at that time, so yours will be the last wedding I will officiate.”

She looked troubled. “But Mr. Frodo, you are doing such a good job of it. I will surely be sorry to see you give it up.”

“Well, I don’t know how good a job I am doing, but I do know that I have developed quite a distaste for politics, and am heartily tired of it. I do like weddings, though,” he smiled.

“Tom and I do thank you then, sir.” She blushed prettily, as they came up to the smial. The carters from the woodwright’s shop, and the delivery hobbit from the seamstress arrived at just the same time.

The woodwright’s assistants took down the old beds and stored them in one of the mathom-rooms, and then put up the new ones. Marigold took the new bedcoverings and began to make the beds. She also went in to straighten up the other guest rooms.

“Where are Mr. Legolas and Mr. Gimli this afternoon?” she asked Frodo.

“Ah, they went down to the Cotton’s to take their gifts to Sam and Rose.”

“Oh my! To think they will have wedding gifts of an Elf and a Dwarf! And Rose had one of the King! It would be enough to turn a lass’s head, it would, if it were anyone less sensible than our Rosie!”

“I don’t think there is much that would turn Rose’s head besides Sam,” said Frodo.

Marigold laughed. “That’s probably the reason then, Mr. Frodo.”

___________________________________________________

Sam and Rose sat on the settee in the Cotton’s front room, comfortably, but not scandalously close. They’d had a few gifts trickle in, but most would start to show up the next day.

There was another knock on the door, and Lily went to open it. She ushered Legolas and Gimli into the room with a broad smile. Legolas was having to duck considerably, as the Cotton ceiling was quite a bit lower than the one at Bag End. He sat down upon the floor next to the young couple, and Gimli took a nearby chair. The Dwarf held a box upon his knees. Legolas had a small package wrapped in linen and tied with a ribbon.

Gimli spoke first. “Well, Master Sam and Miss Rose, we have come to bring your wedding gifts according to the custom of your people.” He held forth the box. Sam took it and handed it to Rosie.

She lifted the lid, and her eyes grew wide. Inside were two beautifully wrought pewter goblets. Along the stem and up the sides of the cup twined a climbing rose.

“They are of pewter, as I wish you to make use of them, and knowing you, Master Sam, if they were of silver, you would put them on a shelf to look at and never drink from them. I tell you, Miss Rose, these are to be used, or I shall be very vexed.” His eyes twinkled as he said it.

Sam held one of them up to look at. “You made these yourself, didn’t you, Mr. Gimli?”

Gimli smiled. “ ‘T wouldn’t be much of a gift if I didn’t, now, would it?” For that was the Dwarven way.

“Now it is my turn,” said Legolas. He handed the parcel to Sam. Rose untied the ribbon and let the wrapping fall away. Inside a small open basket held several little packets of paper. Puzzled, she picked one up and showed it to Sam.

He looked at the word on the front. “Elanor.” He gasped. “Mr. Legolas, is this what I think it is?”

Legolas nodded with a smile. “Yes. It is the seeds of the flower elanor, from the Golden Wood.” He lifted another little packet. “Here are some seeds of niphredil, also from Lothlorien. Here is simbelmynë from Rohan. This one is a nameless little golden flower from Ithilien. It grows as a climbing vine, so I have marked it “yellow creeper”, but doubtless you will find a nicer name for it. It seems to be very hardy. I found it growing amid the ruins. Here is mountain daisy from the heights above Minas Tirith. And from Rivendell is seregon,⁽¹⁾ called White Stonecrop in the western tongue. It grows well among rocks and stone walls, and is often used by Lord Elrond to stop bleeding⁽²⁾.   And here is loth-ithil,⁽³⁾the Moonflower from my own home in the Greenwood. It is a vine which grows well in the deep shade. It is a night bloomer, with large round white blooms that open at moonrise and close at sun-up. If you should plant it within the next two weeks, you will have the blooms from Midsummer to first frost.”

Sam’s eyes were wide and shining. “Oh, Mr. Legolas! This is grand this is! Look, Rosie! Oh my!”

Soon he and Legolas were in deep conversation over where and when to plant the precious seeds.

Rose laughed and looked at Gimli, who gave her a rueful shrug. “Well,” she said, “it looks like we’ve lost them now.”

Sam and Legolas did not even hear.

_________________________________________________

Frodo had said farewell to Marigold after they had finished putting the smial to rights. He found himself wandering about, picking things up and putting them down again. It suddenly occurred to him that this was the first time since his return to the Shire that he was actually alone in his own hole.

He was not really sure how he felt about that.

After all, he had spent seventeen years living here on his own, alone except for the visits of his cousins and Gandalf. He had thought it perfectly natural. Bilbo before him had lived alone for decades until he adopted Frodo. But now he wondered. Perhaps his disinclination to marry and share his life had been fostered not by his own solitary nature, but by the Ring, ever jealous. He knew that now he was eager to have Sam and Rose come live under his roof. Perhaps he would never know for certain.

Shaking off the disturbing thoughts, he went to the kitchen to prepare tea. Legolas and Gimli should be returning from their visit to Sam any time now. Perhaps a nice mushroom pie…

_________________________________________________________

(1) Plant name found at http://www.uib.no./People/hnohf/vocab.htm.

(2) Information found at http://www.magdalin.com/herbs/plants_pages/s/stonecro.htm

(3) This name I made up using elements found in site (1). If anyone wiser than I in the ways of Sindarin would care to correct it, please let me know.

CHAPTER 62

Frodo and his guests had taken tea, and gone outside to the garden, where Legolas could sit comfortably in the fresh air, and Frodo and Gimli could enjoy their pipes downwind of him. They talked a bit, but mostly sat and enjoyed the quiet afternoon. It was beginning to draw on to evening, and Frodo was beginning to think that his other guests were not going to arrive until the morrow, when he heard the sound of ponies approaching the front gate.

He got up and went down the path to the road, where he saw the four ponies approaching.

“Hullo,” he said mildly. “I was beginning to think you would not show up at all today.”

Merry dismounted. “We were delayed a bit getting started.”

Pippin laughed. “Delayed a bit? Is that what you call it? Frodo, we are late because *certain* lads just couldn’t bring themselves to finish saying their farewells to *certain* lasses.”

Merry and Freddy blushed, and Bergil giggled. Frodo looked at them with a raised eyebrow. “And how are the fair Angelica and the lovely Estella?”

Pippin snorted, and Freddy blushed even redder, but Merry just grinned and said “Both are just as fair and lovely as ever, if you care to know.”

By this time Bergil and Freddy had dismounted as well.

Bergil looked at Pippin. “Sir Pippin, should I take care of the ponies?”

Pippin looked over at him. “If you are volunteering because you want to, fine. But if you are volunteering because you think you ought to, then remember that you are not on duty right now.”

“No, really, Pippin. I do not mind. I like the ponies.” He did look eager, fresh-faced, his grey eyes shining.

Pippin nodded, and Bergil led them off. “Just come on into the smial when you are done, lad,” he called after him. He shook his head. “That child has too much of a sense of responsibility. I don’t think I stand a chance of turning him into a proper rascal.”

The others all laughed, and Merry said “Beregond would not thank you if you did, nor Targon either, I think.”

“Or Faramir,” said Frodo. “Aragorn on the other hand would probably lend you a hand at the task if you really are determined to take it on.”

Pippin heaved a great mock sigh. “No, I think it’s hopeless. He’s altogether too nice a lad to spoil, anyway. Pity. But at least he’s an honorary cousin now.”

Frodo led the way up the path, where Legolas and Gimli waited to greet their friends. They went into the smial. Frodo said, “We are not so crowded this time round. I think everyone can find his own usual guest room, though I know you want Bergil to room with you, Pip.”

Merry and Pippin looked at one another and rolled their eyes, but not where Frodo could see. They remembered sleeping on the floor the last time they came, and anticipated doing the same this time.

Merry reached his room first, and opened the door. “Oi! Frodo! You have been busy! Look in your room, Pip!”

Curious, Pippin opened his own door. “Frodo, that’s magnificent!” He tossed his pack down and ran to fling himself onto the large bed. “There’s plenty of room here!”

Frodo smiled. “Do you like them, cousins?”

“Of course we do!” said Merry, giving Frodo a firm hug. “You are the best host I know! How many hobbits would do this for the occasional guest?”

“It’s only beds. It’s not like I had to build a whole new room for you.”

Merry laughed. “As though you wouldn’t. You are very like Bilbo in that regard.”

“Yes. Well. It wasn’t needed this time.” He turned to see that Bergil had joined them. “Let’s go to the kitchen for supper. I’ve had a chicken and mushroom stew simmering all afternoon.”

Pippin grinned. “A hobbit after my own heart. Lead on to the food, cousin!”

__________________________________________________

Frodo and his guests sat up around the table far into the night. Fredegar was regaled with stories of the King, of his exploits as Strider and Aragorn, and of life in his court, and of life in the White City. Bergil at first took an enthusiastic part in the conversation, with his perspective as a life-long resident of Minas Tirith, but long before midnight he began to flag, and Pippin sent him on to bed. The rest continued to talk and reminisce for several more hours.

The result the next morning was that everyone except Legolas and Bergil slept in. Legolas, of course, was up to walk abroad and greet the Sun as she came up. Bergil rose a bit later, and quietly went to the kitchen and found some bread and fruit for his breakfast. He silently explored some of the smial, thinking of the tales he had heard. In Frodo’s study, he looked at some of the books there.

He found a book on Frodo’s desk, bound in red leather, and took a peek at it. Why, this was the story of Bilbo Baggins! He sat down, and was soon absorbed in reading. Time passed without his being aware of it, the only sounds being the ticking of the clock on the mantel, and the distant sounds of birds in the garden.

“Good morning, Bergil,” said Frodo. He stood at the door to his study with a bemused look.

Bergil jumped as though stung. “I-I’m sorry. It’s just so interesting. I didn’t mean--”

“You do not have to apologize, lad. It is an interesting story, and my Uncle Bilbo an engaging writer.” Frodo walked to the desk and looked over Bergil’s shoulder. “I see you are nearly halfway through my cousin’s part in the story. The next parts of the book are some of his translations of Elvish history, and there is an empty part after that, in which I am to write of our own adventures. I have barely begun that task, and it is not yet in condition to begin copying into the book.”

“Oh.” Bergil looked at Frodo. “I am puzzled about something, Master Frodo. You call Bilbo your uncle and yet also your cousin? Hobbit ways of reckoning family are very confusing to me.”

Frodo laughed. “You would not be the first one to say that. But in this case it is quite simple. Bilbo is my cousin--I won’t trouble you with degrees, I’m sure Pippin and Merry have done so enough to cause you complete confusion--” Bergil giggled at that and nodded. “so we’ll dispense with it. But often among hobbits, cousins of a younger generation will call cousins of an older generation ‘uncle’ or ‘aunt’ if they are especially close to them. I always did so with Bilbo, and with Merry’s parents as well.”

Bergil nodded. Now he understood.

“I do believe my lazy cousins and that Dwarf are going to sleep right through elevenses. Would you care to keep me company in the kitchen?”

So a few moments later, Frodo’s other guests began to wander into the kitchen to join him and Bergil for seedcake and tea.

Plans for the day were discussed. Freddy wanted to go down to the Cotton’s with the wedding gift. Bergil asked if he could please finish reading Bilbo’s story. Gimli planned to go in search of his Elf.

“Merry, Pippin, I have a brief errand in town this afternoon, and I would like for you to come with me, if you could.”

The two looked at one another and nodded.

_________________________________________________

Later, as Frodo walked toward Hobbiton with Merry and Pippin, he explained where they were going.

“I have had a new will made. I would like you to be one of the witnesses, Merry. The lawyer is providing the others. And though you cannot yet sign as a witness, Pip, I’d like you there as well. In future years it may be important. You see, I am making Sam my heir.”

Merry grinned. “Frodo, that’s wonderful! But is it allowed? Doesn’t your heir have to be a Baggins?”

“It’s allowed, since there are not any younger Bagginses,” Frodo said, briefly.

“Ah.” Merry did not want to go into that subject any further. It was too painful for all of them.

Pippin had been completely quiet since Frodo had told them what he was doing. “Frodo,” he finally said, “I have a confession to make.”

“What on earth have you done, Pip?” asked Frodo, puzzled.

“I saw your old will. When we were helping to pack up Bag End for the move to Crickhollow. I was snooping.”

Frodo stopped walking and stared at Pippin, wondering what had possessed him. Pippin blushed uncomfortably. Merry looked at him reproachfully.

Pippin looked over at Merry. “It was when you were still trying to keep me in the dark about things, and I was so afraid that you would slip away without me. I was trying to find out anything that might help me keep up with you both.”

Merry looked puzzled now. Frodo just nodded at Pippin. “Go on,” he said.

“Merry, he left everything to us!”

Now Merry looked over at Frodo, stunned. “Why would you do that?”

Frodo shook his head ruefully. “Who else would I have had to leave it to? I didn’t know you were plotting to come with me, and I did not possess Bag End at the time.” He looked at Pippin again. “What did you think of that?”

Pippin’s green eyes filled with tears. He shook his head to clear it. He had not realized he was still so upset by it after over two years. “If you want to know the truth, it scared the daylights out of me. All I could think of was that you would go and leave me behind, with nothing to console me but some moldy old money. I think I would rather have died myself than to have it.”

“Oh, Peregrin!” Frodo’s tone was a mixture of fondness, exasperation and sorrow.

“Well,” said Merry, “it’s over and done with. I can’t say that I would have been very pleased with such an inheritance either, but none of it happened, and we went with you anyway. I don’t think Sam will like it much either, but hopefully it will be years and years before there’s any need to worry about it. Come on, let’s get to old Grubb’s and get it over with."

________________________________________________________

Fredegar was just leaving the Cotton’s after dropping off the gift from himself and his sister. It had not been very imaginative--just a teapot painted with roses, that Estella had found in a shop in Tuckborough--but Sam and Rose had seemed very pleased with it.

“Captain Freddy!”

Freddy turned. “Hullo, Jolly! It’s good to see you.”

“Could I have a word with you, sir?” The young Cotton walked up alongside him.

“Why certainly. What is it?”

“Captain Freddy, is it true that there is room for one or two more in the group going South?” Jolly looked at him hopefully.

“Jolly Cotton! Are you saying that you want to go?”

“Yes, sir, I am. I think I would like to see these fine places that Sam’s been to, and being as you are going, I think I would feel safe. Would you be willing for me to go?”

“Oh, Jolly, I would be most glad of your company! And the assembly only said that anyone else should not be a Bucklander. I am going to be put in charge, so I think that I may have some say-so. But I’ll need to send a message to Paladin and Saradoc about it. If they agree, and your family does not object, you’re in.”

Jolly’s face lit up. “I’ve already spoken to Tom about it, since if I went, I’d miss his wedding. He thinks it’s a grand idea for me. I will talk to my old Dad today!”

“Well, then, send word to Bag End of his answer.”

__________________________________________________

Merimac Brandybuck rode up to Brandy Hall. He had left from Tuckborough as soon as the assembly was ended. Saradoc and Esmeralda were staying on there until the Men left, but if Berilac was to go with the delegation then someone else had to be there to watch over Buckland.

“Da!” exclaimed Berilac, running out to greet him.

“Hullo, son! Did you get the message?”

“I am already packed. As soon as I have reported to you on the state of things here, I will take the Ferry and head for Tuckborough.”

CHAPTER 63

In a tent in Tuckborough, in the encampment of the King’s delegation sat four very disgruntled hobbits. Their initial terror had begun to wear off, and now the Bankses and Dago Bracegirdle were snapping at one another crossly.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into that harebrained scheme of Lotho’s,” Clodio complained. “I should have known it was no good, coming from a son of Lobelia, the old harridan.”

“Lobelia’s only fault was in marrying that Sackville-Baggins in the first place. And you didn’t need much talking into. As I recall, you were quite happy with the thought of all the profit to be made selling the pipeweed away down South, and buying up as much of the local property as possible. It’s a shame you didn’t have the fortitude to keep your mouth shut.”

“Fortitude!” Clodio was nearly foaming at the mouth. “You’re a fine one to talk about that! Taking off and running, leaving me to hold the bag!”

“There wouldn’t have been a bag to hold if your idiot sons had even as much sense as a goose. Talk about harebrained schemes--trying to stir up this bunch of Men was possibly the stupidest thing these two morons you sired have ever come up with!”

“Who are you calling a moron, you old villain?” shouted Clovis. He started to jump on Dago, and was hauled back by the hand of his younger brother Cado on his collar. He turned he ire on his sibling. “Let go of me! What do you think you’re doing?”

“He’s absolutely right!” shouted Cado. “We are morons! You come up with the world’s stupidest ideas, and I listen to them! I don’t know why I ever listen to you--no one knows better than me what an idiot you are!”

“Stop it!” yelled Clodio.

The younger Bankses ignored their father completely.

“If I’m such an idiot why do you always do what I say?”

“Good question! It’s not a mistake I’m likely to ever repeat in the future. You’ve never thought up anything that didn’t lead to disaster. You just do whatever comes into your head and hang the consequences!  You've never had a brain in your head!  There are slugs in the garden with more intelligence than you!”

With a roar, Clovis launched himself on his younger brother, pinning him down and raining blows on his face, until he suddenly found himself yanked backwards by a huge hand, and lifted high in the air. It was Leodwald, who had been posted outside the tent where the prisoners were being kept. He had thought the bickering somewhat amusing, until it had erupted into violence. Éothain entered the tent to see what the uproar was all about.

“What’s going on here?” he asked.

“The cubs were fighting each other, sir,” said Leodwald, dangling Clovis up even higher and giving him a little shake. “Actually, this one was beating on the other.” Clovis began to turn a bit green.

Cado sat up, his hand to his nose, which was bleeding copiously. “I tink by dose is bwoken.”

The commander of the Rohirrim looked at Clodio. “I have been indulgent to you in not tying you all up, and in allowing you to remain together. Can you not control your sons?” Clodio glared up at the Man. “No, I suppose you cannot, or none of this would have happened in the first place.”

Éothain pinched his forehead. He was rapidly getting a headache. And he was going to have to escort this bunch to Edoras. So much for a nice simple diplomatic mission to the pleasant little Shire.

“Leodwald, take that one--” he pointed to Clovis, who was still dangling from one of the soldier’s meaty hands, “and give him to Anwynd to watch. We will have to keep him by himself from now on, I suppose. Then please go and fetch Mistress Poppy or her apprentice to come see to the other one.”

Clovis looked horrified at the thought of being alone. “Father!” he called, as he was carried out.

Clodio ignored him, and glared at Cado.

Targon entered the tent. “What’s all the commotion?”

Éothain sighed and explained what had happened. Targon shook his head. “Well, I see nothing for it but to keep all of them separated from now on.”

The three remaining hobbits looked at one another in horror. It was bad enough together, but it would be unbearable alone.

_____________________________________________________

Eglantine was in her sitting room with Pearl, Primrose and Peridot.

“Well, my dears, things are almost back to normal, now the assembly is over. But we do have a few things that need to be taken care of.”

The other three nodded. Pearl smiled. “There’s always something, isn’t there, Mother?”

“Indeed there is. Reggie’s daughters, for one thing. Opal should be all right. Mistress Lavender is to take charge of her recovery while Poppy is gone away South. If the child does well, she will then be apprenticed to Poppy when she returns.” Eglantine felt slightly dubious over this herself. While she felt sorry for the lass, she was not sure the child was bright enough to be a healer. But Poppy assured her that Opal had the aptitude, and she would trust the healer on it.

“As to Amethyst and Garnet, they have been quite subdued since all this trouble occurred. I am hoping that they may be showing the beginnings of some sense, now that Hyacinth is out of the way. But they need to be taken in hand. There are some things Reggie just cannot do, and that he cannot understand.”

Primrose shook her head. “He has no idea of some of the silly things those lasses of his have been up to in the past; and Hyacinth encouraged it, in the hopes they would snag a husband.”

Peridot laughed. “She was the biggest obstacle to any of them finding a husband. No sane hobbit wanted her for a mother-in-law.”

“Well,” said Eglantine, “she is out of the way now, but she still presents an obstacle, for many will be remembering they are the daughters of a hobbitess who was banished from the family, and although he has disavowed her, Reggie has yet to tell Paladin if he wishes to dissolve the marriage.”

“Do you really think he will do that?” Pearl asked. It was close to unheard of. The last time it had happened in the Shire was nearly two generations ago, when a lass had snared a husband by pretending to be with child. Disavowal was less drastic, yet even that was rare. About twenty years ago a wife had disavowed her husband for unfaithfulness, and about fifteen years ago a husband had disavowed his wife when he discovered that she had stolen from his mother. None of them could remember any other such occurrence until now.

“Somehow I doubt it,” answered her mother. “It would create more problems than it would solve, though Paladin is still angry enough at her to be encouraging him to do so. But Reggie has good hobbit sense, and Paladin will cool down soon.” Eglantine herself planned never to cool down towards Hyacinth, but as long as she was no longer under her roof and she never had to lay eyes on her again, she did not care if Reggie dissolved the marriage. But when she thought of what could have happened if she had ever left a sick Pippin in Hyacinth’s care, it sent chills down her spine.

“At any rate, Pearl, I would like you to continue to take the lasses under your wing. You have done an admirable job so far, and I think that they have come to respect your judgment. I do not say that you should act as a surrogate mother, but keep an eye on them.”

“That is not a problem, Mother. I have begun to find out that there is more to those lasses than their mother ever gave them credit for. They are not nearly as stupid as we have always thought them, but they have become used to hiding their intelligence over the years until it has become second nature. Hyacinth always used to tell them that no lad would want a clever lass to wife.”

Her mother and her aunts had a hardy laugh over this. Eglantine wiped her eyes, and said “Please don’t let anyone tell that to your father! Oh my!” She drew a deep breath. “I don’t know when I’ve ever heard anything so very silly!"  She shook herself, and composed herself to continue.

"The other thing I would like to bring up is Beryl. Mistress Lavender told me that she has accepted her family’s fate, and no longer needs the calming draughts. And she will not follow them into exile. I had not expected her to; Clodio and her sons always treated her with a certain amount of contempt and disdain. But I owe her.” All of them recalled how Eglantine would never have had a last chance to see her dying mother if Beryl had not risked sending her word against Clodio’s wishes. He never learned how it was that Eglantine and her children had suddenly shown up so fortuitously. But Tina had no doubt that her brother would have made Beryl’s life miserable if he had ever discovered it.

“She will not be able to keep her home, with no husband to provide for her. I would like to offer her a place here. Primrose, if you would, please look for suitable quarters among the uninhabited apartments. She won’t need a large place, since it is just her.”

“I will talk to Mistress Appleblossom at once.” Primrose thought this was an excellent idea. She did not especially like Beryl, who tended to be somewhat flighty and was not particularly bright, but she definitely thought that Clodio’s wife had a raw deal from all this. And in spite of her greedy husband and her nasty sons, Beryl’s heart was in the right place.

________________________________________________

Danulf looked in disgust at the sniveling hobbit that had been left in his care. Although he knew that it was the other brother who had thrown the rock at him, this one was there and had done nothing to prevent the cowardly act.

He looked up as Viola Harfoot approached.

“I hear that someone has a bloody nose needs tending?” she asked, pointedly ignoring her writhing patient.

“Right there.” Danulf gestured.

She knelt down and moved his hand away from his face. Yes, it looked a bit broken. She took a cloth and dampened it with an astringent from her satchel, and began to clean the blood off.

“Ow! That stings!” Cado brought his hand back up to his nose. She firmly moved it away, looking at the tattoo. She had done pretty good work with that, considering that it was the first official tattoo she had ever done.

After cleaning the blood up, she examined the nose again, and then reached up with two fingers and gave it a little twist to set it.

“Arrgh! That hurt!”

“Don’t be such a baby. I guess I could have left it to heal crookedly. Next time I will.”

She took out a jar of a white paste and smeared it liberally onto the affronted nose and face.

“There.”

Cado opened his eyes and looked at her. She really was a comely lass. He wished he were not in such a pickle. Otherwise he might try to make an impression on her. But it was definitely too late for that. She’d already seen him at his worst.

She stood up. “He is as right as he will ever be,” she said contemptuously. “If you need either Mistress Poppy or myself again, Master Danulf, please let us know.”

“Certainly, Miss Viola. Are you looking forward to your journey with us?”

She laughed. “Not really. But Mistress Poppy is, and my wishes don’t much count. And I am looking forward to the new things that I will learn about healing when we reach the South.”

Danulf smiled. “Well, I hope that we may change your mind, and make the journey a pleasant one for you.”

“Thank you, Master Danulf.”

Cado watched her leave. So she would be traveling with them, would she?

Author's Note:  I apologize for taking so long to update.  I have been much troubled by Real Life (TM) in the last few weeks.  Things seem to be getting back to normal now, so I hope to get back to updating frequently, and soon get to the end of the story.  Thank you for your patience.

Dreamflower

CHAPTER 64

Rose sat at the table with her mother, helping her to grind the almonds for the marzipan needed for the wedding cake. She kept an ear out for the sounds of banging and bumping, coming from the direction of her room, wincing every time she heard it.

“Be easy, lass. Your brothers aren’t going to harm your things, and I know you would have been very careful packing anything breakable.”

Rosie sighed. “I know, Mama. But I wish I could help.”

“There’s too much to do. The wedding’s in three days, and you can’t be everywhere. And right now I need your help with this cake. And after that, I will need your help with the tablecloths. And then this afternoon you have to be here for your gifts.”

“Well, at least I can trust Marigold to put everything away for me the way she knows I like it.”

For today, Rose’s brothers were taking all of her things, except what she would need between now and the wedding day, over to Bag End.

____________________________________________________

Frodo was overseeing his friends as they helped him to clear out the room that had once been Bilbo’s. Frodo had never used that room, preferring to keep the room he had been given when he first moved to Bag End. He had pretty much left it as it was. When Lotho moved in, he had claimed the room, but then it had been thoroughly cleared out of all traces of the Sackville-Bagginses’ occupancy. When Frodo had moved back in after the Troubles, it had become a sort of unofficial mathom-room, being a handy place to put things, rather than going further back into the smial. Now everything except the furniture was being cleared out and placed in one of the actual mathom-rooms, or being unpacked and put away.

Merry came out with a crate of books. “That’s the last of it, Frodo. This box hasn’t been opened since it came back from Crickhollow. Do you want it in the study?”

“That sounds fine, Merry, and thank you. Marigold and Tom will be here soon to fix the room up for Sam and Rosie.”

Pippin came up, wiping his brow. “You know,” he said, “Sam’s still taking on about this. He doesn’t think it’s right for you to give him the master bedroom. I think, though, that I may have stopped him complaining about it.”

Merry grinned. “And how did you accomplish that little feat?”

Pippin rolled his eyes. “Oh, I said something along the lines of ‘Well, Sam, if you don’t think Rose *deserves* to have that room, I’m sure you can convince Frodo of it.’ He started spluttering that wasn’t what he meant at all, and I said ‘oh, I’m sure’. He just shook his head and went back to weeding, muttering that he might as well hold his tongue if people were going to take every little thing he said the wrong way.”

“Thank you, Pip,” laughed Frodo. “I’ve been arguing with him about it for days, and finally just told him that was how it was going to be. But I never would have thought of that argument.” he added admiringly.

“That’s because there are things you won’t say. I don’t have that problem.”

His cousins laughed. Pippin was known for his bluntness.

Just then they heard the sound of Freddy’s voice, yelling down the passage--”Anyone for elevenses?”

The cousins joined Freddy and Bergil in the kitchen, where they found tea and sandwiches awaiting them.

“Where are Legolas and Gimli this morning?” asked Freddy.

“Oh, they took Arod, and rode back down in the direction of Tuckborough. The Men have broken camp, and will be coming back in this direction. They will set up in the same place they were the first time they were in Hobbiton, and stay until after the wedding.” said Pippin.

“Yes, and then they will be escorting you South, Freddy. I hear Jolly Cotton has added himself to your delegation.” Merry was more pleased than he could say that Freddy would be leading the embassy.

Fredegar nodded. “Yes, so far there are the five of us, as well as Mistress Poppy Burrows and her apprentice Miss Harfoot, which makes a total of seven hobbits heading out of the Shire at one time. Unheard of!”

Frodo shook his head ruefully. “I am afraid the Shire will never really be the same, now we have a King. You know, you still have room for one more--do you think there will be any more volunteers?”

“I don’t know,” said Freddy. “It’s always possible, but I don’t know who it would be.”

____________________________________________________

Milo and Peony Burrows looked at their oldest son Mosco. “You’ve only just come of age son, do you think they will consider you old enough?”

“I hope so. You know you can’t go, Father. And you’re no more comfortable than I am with the idea of Aunt Poppy taking this trip without any family to escort her.” Poppy was actually a cousin, but she had always been “aunt” to Milo’s children.

“No, I’m not. I know that as she is a healer there is nothing improper in her journeying alone. But this is so far away. I’d feel better about it if I knew you were with her.” He carefully did not say how much he would be worried for his son. He had to hide his fears carefully; Peony trusted his judgment that it would be safe now that the King had returned. She mustn’t know of his doubts.

“Besides, at least I *am* of age! Peregrin is *still* not of age, and he did fine!”

Milo was none too certain about that either--he’d seen a certain look in young Peregrin’s eyes, as well as Merry’s that did not speak of “doing fine“. But there was no War now. There really *shouldn’t* be any danger.

Peony’s eyes shone with tears. “I’m very proud of you son, for wanting to take care of Poppy. Please be careful.”

“I will, Mother. But I don’t even know if Freddy will want me, yet.”

__________________________________________________

Legolas brought Arod to a halt, and Gimli peered around him. They could see the delegations from Rohan and Gondor moving in their direction.

“I see they have the miscreant hobbits along,” said the Elf, sharp-eyed as always. “Of course they could not very well leave them.”

Gimli shook his head. “I still find it difficult to believe that hobbits could be so treacherous.”

Legolas shook his head. “We have been spoiled by our hobbits. I believe that we were fortunate enough to make the acquaintance of the four best hobbits in the Shire from the beginning. It gave us very high expectations for the race.”

Gimli nodded. “You are right about that. Yet, for the most part our expectations have been met. There have only been a handful of hobbits of the many we have met, who did not prove to be delightful.”

Legolas moved Arod forward. “I believe that somehow being charming and delightful and open are a part of the hobbits’ nature that defends them. It brings out a protectiveness in other races who are larger and more able to defend them. Hobbits who lack that charm, are I think, defective.”

Gimli chuckled. “That is certainly a way of looking at it. And it would not surprise me if it is true.”

The Elf sighed. “Sometimes I think that Eru created hobbits for the express purpose of bringing forth Frodo to defeat the darkness. I find that a troubling thought.”

Gimli shuddered. “I find it a frightening thought. Especially when I think of all he went through. And all he goes through yet.”

The two friends fell silent, as they approached the Men. Now they would turn and ride back with them.

_________________________________________________________

Targon smiled at the approach of the Elf and Dwarf. He had missed their company. Of course, he knew that they had made the journey to the Shire to see their pheriannath friends, but he felt as though they had also become his friends as well duiring this trip. He turned to look behind.

Borondir had Dago Bracegirdle riding behind him. Behind Anwynd was Clodio Banks. Leodwald was burdened with the older Banks lad and Danulf with the younger. Keeping them separated was difficult, and they were now almost as terrified as they had been right at the beginning. It was clear that they did not do well apart. But he couldn’t have them coming to blows again, either. He supposed once they set up camp in Hobbiton he would need to have another talk with Éothain about it. Maybe they had learned their lesson, and he could put them back in together. It was a lot easier that way.

Riding on ponies alongside Éothain were the healer Poppy Burrows, and her little apprentice. Now that had been a surprise. Targon had been quite taken aback when she approached him, and informed him in no uncertain terms that the two of them were coming along. She had been very emphatic about it, and took it for granted that the permission would be given. Of course it had been.

Now that it was coming to it, and his mission nearing an end, Targon wondered what the King would think of his accomplishments here in the Shire. True, he had managed to get the hobbits to ratify the King’s edicts, but most of the credit for that went to the Ringbearer, the Thain and the Master. And if Men had not been here to stir things up, then perhaps the tragedy with the little hobbit lass would not have happened. On the other hand, he had been instructed to get to the bottom of Saruman’s machinations in the Shire, and taking these four back for justice certainly was success in that endeavor.

Well, in just a few days, they would witness the wedding of Samwise and his Rose. He would have to make sure to remember every detail, for that was an occasion that he knew would be dear to the heart of King Elessar, and of Queen Arwen as well.

And following that, they would be escorting seven hobbits to Gondor. He began to run through possible difficulties in his mind. He intended to get each and every one of these dear little people safely to his King.

__________________________________________________

There was a knock on the door at Bag End. Frodo left the kitchen and went to answer. It was Milo Burrows, and his oldest lad Mosco.

“Good day, Frodo,” said Milo. “Could I have a word with you and Fredegar.”

Frodo took a look at the determined expression on the younger Burrows’s face, and suddenly knew what they wanted. He smiled. “Certainly, Milo. Come into the front room and wait while I fetch Freddy.” Well, well, well. It looked as though the delegation would be complete at six.

_____________________________________________________

CHAPTER 65

Two days until the wedding. Merry shook his head. He had a lot of responsibility if he was going to stand with Sam; he sat against the head of his lovely new guest bed, and began to tick them off on his fingers. First he had to make sure that the marriage document was prepared. Since Frodo was officiating, that should be no problem. Frodo had probably already drawn it up, but he would need to check on it. Then he had to confirm the seven witnesses--as though *that* would be a problem. It looked like half the Shire was going to be in attendance, if out of nothing more than curiosity. He had to make sure that all of the gifts that Sam and Rosie had received made their way from the Cotton’s farm to Bag End. Of course he also had to come up with a suitable speech and a toast for after the wedding. And most importantly, he had to take care of Sam before the wedding, and make sure that the groom’s nerves did not wear him down. The usual task was to make sure the groom showed up, but Merry did not believe *that* would be a problem. He had never seen two hobbits more ready to be wed than Sam and Rosie.

He wondered if he and Estella would be like that, when it came time. He was sitting there with a vacant grin on his face, imagining the delightful scenario, when a tapping came at his door.

“Come on in, Pip. I’m awake.”

Pippin bounced in and flopped on the bed by Merry’s feet. “Good morning, cousin. You missed first breakfast.”

“I’m sure my share of the food wasn’t wasted, if you were there.”

Pippin laughed delightedly. “What have you got on for today?”

“I need to check with Frodo, to see if he has prepared the marriage document. After that, I’ll check with Sam, to see if he needs me to do anything. It’s not going to get really hectic until tomorrow.”

“We’re still taking them their *other* gift tomorrow?”*

Merry nodded. “We can pick it up from the framer today.”

Pippin grinned in anticipation. They had already given the couple gifts several days ago. Pippin had presented them with a carved figure of an oliphaunt actually carved from an oliphaunt’s tusk, that he had purchased in Minas Tirith. Merry had managed to get a book of recipes, written in Westron, of many of the dishes they had enjoyed in Rivendell. Merry still wondered if Lord Elrond had not actually written it out for him personally, but he had not dared to ask. But this gift was going to be from them both, and it was going to be fun.

“So,” said Merry, “what are *your* plans today?”

“Well, as you know, Rosie asked me to see to the music. I’ve already engaged a band for dancing, but I have a few people to see about special requests. Do you want to come with me?”

“After breakfast, right?”

“After *second* breakfast,” Pippin grinned.

____________________________________________________

Frodo sat at the desk in his study, looking over what he had just written. He wanted it to be just perfect. He felt a presence behind him.

“Hullo, Merry,” he said without turning. “Did you have a good rest?”

“It was wonderful. The new bed is very comfortable. Thank you, Frodo.” He paused. “Is that the marriage lines for Sam and Rosie?”

“Yes, it is. Would you care to look it over?” He held the document up to his cousin.

Merry scanned it quickly, admiring, as he always did, Frodo’s beautiful and precise lettering. There had been a time, right after the Quest, when Frodo had not thought he’d be able to write like that again, due to his maimed hand. But Aragorn had worked with him, giving him exercises, and now his writing was almost as good as it had ever been. Merry nodded. “It looks fine. And plenty of room at the bottom for the witnesses. Well, that’s one of my jobs out of the way.”

“Merry, I’m glad Sam asked you to stand with him, since I can’t.”

Merry laughed. “You know, if you could be somehow split into two people, he would have had you to do both jobs.”

Frodo grinned. “I know, but I’m still glad he asked you. Do you remember the first time you met him?”

“Do I ever!” He grinned. “I was absolutely filthy--you had been playing in the dirt with me. And he came up to Bag End with his mother to bring the Gaffer his lunch. Saved me from a fate worse than death--having to sit in the study for two hours listening to you have an Elvish lesson from Bilbo!”

Frodo laughed. “Poor Merry! That must have been so boring for you. But it might have stood you in good stead later on if you had listened to the lessons.”

“Well Sam and I had a lot more fun, then and every spring after, though once he started apprenticing to the Gaffer we didn’t see each other quite so much. But when we got our conspiracy together, I knew I could trust good old Sam.”

Frodo sighed. “I still wish that I could have spared the three of you all the pain you had to go through--”

“None of that!” said Merry sharply. “If it had not been for our going with you, any number of things would have fallen out wrong. The Shire would be overrun with Orcs, and we’d be having to learn the Black Speech! We did nothing for you that you would not have done for us, my dear!” Merry shook his head, and continued more gently, “Frodo, we loved you, and we love you still. What’s done is done, and from all I can tell, it was meant to be. You’ve heard Gandalf on that subject before.”

Frodo turned in his chair, and gave Merry a brief embrace. “I don’t know why I should have such loyal friends, dear, but I’m glad that I do.”

Merry returned the embrace, and then put his hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “You’re my Frodo, that’s all.” They looked at one another for a moment with eyes that glittered with tears, and then heard Pippin calling.

“Oi, Merry! Are you still coming with me?”

“Be right there, Pip!” He dropped a cousinly kiss on Frodo’s brow, and headed to meet Pippin in the front hall.

______________________________________________________

“Where’s Bergil this morning, Pip?” Merry asked, as they made their way to the Men’s encampment.

“He’ll be there with Anwynd, having his flute lesson. That’s why we’re going there.”

Sure enough, as they approached, they could hear the unmistakable sounds of a flute--no two flutes.

“He’s really doing well!” said Merry in surprise. He could not tell which music was the teacher and which the pupil.

The two were sitting in the center of the campsite, playing. Merry and Pippin cast their eyes over the scene, taking in the sight of the other Men busy with different small tasks. Next to one of the far tents, they noticed Clovis, sitting bound. There was no sign of the other three. Merry looked at Anwynd with a questioning gaze. The Rohirrim left off his flute playing and shook his head. “He attacked his brother and broke his nose. We are keeping him separated from the others.”

“Ah,” said Merry. It didn’t surprise him. Clovis was and always had been, a nasty brute. He noted with mild irritation that Pip was looking sympathetic. Even after everything else, Pippin still felt sorry for the wretch.

Bergil had continued playing, and now the sprightly tune came to an end. He stopped and looked at Pippin, who grinned. “That was really very good, Bergil! How would you like to play at Sam’s wedding?”

Bergil’s jaw dropped. “Sir Pippin!” he exclaimed.

“Perhaps Anwynd might be persuaded to play with you?” He looked at Anwynd hopefully.

Anwynd nodded “I would be honored Sir Peregrin, if you truly think that they would want us. I do not know if they would care to have a Man play at a Hobbit wedding.”

“Of course they would! Besides, Bergil is an honorary hobbit, and you’re his teacher!”

They all laughed uproariously at this. Bergil looked at his shoes. “It’s a good thing it’s honorary--I don’t have the feet to be a real hobbit!”

Merry grinned at the lad. “I’ve a theory about that, you know. I think Men have such tiny little hairless feet because they keep them cooped up in shoes and boots all their life. If they always went about barefoot like hobbits, I venture to say they might actually develop respectable feet.”

The laughter grew even louder. Anwynd wiped his eyes. “Holdwine, I am sorry to destroy your theory, but as a lad, I went barefoot as much as possible. My feet never got any larger, nor hairier for it.”

“Ah, well, then, that’s a shame.” And they all went off once more into gales of laughter.

Clovis looked over and scowled. All of this trouble was Merry Brandybuck’s fault. What right did he have to be standing there laughing?

_______________________________________________

They stayed up at the encampment until time for elevenses, visiting with their friends. Merry felt a bit melancholy. In just a few days the Men would be leaving the Shire, returning to Edoras and to Gondor. Legolas and Gimli would go as well. He was going to miss them. Much as he was glad to be home, he would love to see his sword-sister Éowyn, and his liege Éomer, and the Golden Hall of Meduseld again. And Aragorn, though he did not miss Gondor that much. Pip did, though. He knew Pip missed Strider and Faramir a lot. And they both missed Gandalf. He wondered if Gandalf would ever visit the Shire again, now that the Ring was gone. A visit from Gandalf might even perk Frodo up a bit. He sighed.

Pip looked at him. He knew what Merry was thinking. “Shall we go back with them, then, for a visit?” There was a strange note in his voice, fearful and hopeful at the same time. Merry suddenly knew that if he said the word, Pip would do just that without hesitation. But it wasn’t the right time. The Shire still needed them. Their families needed them. And Frodo needed them. Frodo, he knew, would never go back. His memories of the South were not good ones.

He gave another sigh, this one of resignation. “Not yet, Pip, not yet.”

Pippin nodded, and he looked relieved. But Merry noted there was still a hint of strain in Pip’s face. He’d have it out of him by the end of the day, he thought.

_______________________________________________

After returning to Bag End for elevenses, Merry found Sam. He was still working away in the kitchen garden, harvesting young radishes and spring onions, and checking the blooms on the cucumber and tomato vines.

“Sam. You know you could take the next couple of days off. Frodo wouldn’t mind.”

“Mr. Merry, I know that. But I’ve already had too much time off as is. Besides, if I’m not working, I’m thinking. And right now, it don’t do me to be thinking overmuch.”

“Oh, Sam! I can’t believe you are getting second thoughts about this wedding! You’d be lost without Rose.”

“Well, never second thoughts about marrying my Rosie! But about the wedding? It’s going to be worse than that there Ball. At least there, folks had other folk to stare at, like you and Mr. Frodo and Mr. Pippin, and the Thain and all. But there’s not going to be nobody to take the attention away at the wedding!”

Merry laughed. “Of course there will! Sam, do you think *anyone* will pay attention to *you*? They’ll all be looking at your bride! Think of the weddings you’ve been to. Do you remember anything about the groom?”

Sam looked a bit taken aback. He thought for a second or two, and then grinned. “You know, Mr. Merry, I think you are absolutely right!”

“There you are, then,” he gave Sam a clap on the back and moved on, chuckling.

______________________________________________

He found Pippin in front of Bag End. He and Legolas were lying side by side on the front lawn. Gimli sat on the bench by the front door.

“I don’t suppose,” Pippin was saying to the Elf, “that it much matters *what* you sing if it’s in Elvish. No one but Frodo will know what the words mean anyway. But if you decide to choose a song in the Common Tongue, that will be all right as well. Far be it from me to tell an Elf what to sing.”

Legolas made a noise that could have been called a snort, if it had come from anyone else besides an Elf. “Oh, you would never do that, would you? I think having a troll fall on you impaired your memory. ‘Oooh, Legolas, sing *that* one again!’ I seem to recall hearing those words frequently from a young hobbit during our journey.”

Merry laughed. “He’s got you there, Pip.”

“Hullo, Mer. How’s Sam getting on?”

“A bit nervous about the actual wedding, but looking forward to being married,” said Merry. There was that cloud on Pippin’s face again. What was troubling him?

Legolas looked at the two cousins, and sprang gracefully to his feet. “Come, Gimli, let’s go see Arod. I think he may be in need of a bit of exercise.”

Pippin watched them leave, puzzled. Merry knew that the Elf sensed his need to talk to Pip privately. He flopped down on the space in the grass that Legolas had vacated.

“All right, Pip, out with it. Something has been troubling you nearly all day. What is it?”

Pippin did not say anything. Merry waited. He knew that Pippin was just gathering his thoughts. Sometimes other people would think that they were being ignored, Pippin took so long to answer, but Merry was used to it. It meant he would get a truthful answer, and not a joke.

Finally Pippin spoke. “Don’t get me wrong, Merry. I am so truly happy for Sam and Rosie, and I’m glad for you and Estella as well. But it’s just so hard for me. The other day, you witnessed Frodo’s will, but even though I witnessed it too, I couldn’t be *a* witness. The same for Sam’s marriage lines--you’ll sign them, and Freddy, and Tom and Jolly, and I suppose that you’ve found three more hobbits to do that as well, but I *can’t*! Even though I am a Knight of Gondor, even though I’m older than the King of Rohan, here I’m still just a child! And all of you are moving ahead without me. It’s going to be *three more years* until I am of age, and I don’t know how I’m going to stand it!”

Merry rolled over and looked at his cousin. Tears stood in Pippin’s eyes, and he dashed them away crossly. “Oh, Pip. It really is unfair to you. And there is nothing I can do to make it better, except just to tell you that *I* don’t think of you as a child, and neither do Frodo and Sam. Sam’s getting married the day after tomorrow, but I really don’t know yet when Estella and I are even getting betrothed, much less married. And Frodo is certainly not getting married. You know that.”

“That’s not fair either.” Pippin’s voice was flat.

“Yes. Well. I don’t think fairness even begins to enter into it when it comes to Frodo.”

Pippin sighed. “That’s true. And I shouldn’t be pouting like a child if I don’t want to be thought of as one.”

“You said that, I didn’t” replied Merry. He sat up. “Come on, let’s walk on down to The Ivy Bush, and have an ale, and maybe even luncheon.”

Pippin grinned and sat up. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Shall we see if we can coax good old Frodo to come along?” This was a task much more difficult than it once had been, but they still had an occasional success.

They managed another one this day.

__________________________________________________

* Shameless plug for my silly little fic "The Lovely Rosie Cotton"

CHAPTER 66

“Ermm--Captain Targon?”

Targon turned to see an unfamiliar hobbit being ushered toward him by an amused Artamir.

“Yes, little master, how may I help you?” he asked courteously.

“Uh--well, it’s a matter of maybe how we can help you, in a manner of speaking. I’m Robin Smallburrow at your service. I’m one of the Shirriffs here. We--we been talking about it, and knowing as how things turned out at the Ball, with your Man getting hurt that was on guard, well, what I’m trying to say is that if you and all your Men want to go to Samwise’s wedding tomorrow, we’ll be glad to provide several sturdy lads to guard your camp and *them*--” he turned and spat, as he mentioned the prisoners--”so’s you can do that without worrying. That’s if you care to, anyway. So to speak.” Robin’s voice trailed off, as he nervously tried to think of what else he could say. This Man was listening to him very politely, but he certainly wasn’t giving anything away with his expression. Maybe they wouldn’t think that hobbits would make very good guards, not like these big strong soldiers he had.

Targon nodded gravely. “I thank you very much for the offer, Mr. Smallburrow, and I will take it under serious consideration. I do have to consult with my fellow envoy from Rohan. It is most generous of your Shirriffs to do this.”

Now the hobbit beamed at him. “Well, as I said, we feel bad about what happened at the Ball. And we are all right fond of Sam, after all the work he did for the Shire, fixing it up after the troubles. We know it would make him right glad of the chance to have all you folk come to his wedding.”

“But that means that some of your people will have to miss it,” said Targon.

“Well, we have six sturdy hobbits who don’t really know Sam, as has already offered, and then we’ll draw lots for six more. Do you think twelve will be enough of a guard?” he asked anxiously. “We’ll have bows and slings.”

Targon nodded. “I think that twelve would be more than sufficient. After I have spoken with Éothain, I will let you know. How may I reach you?”

“You can leave a message at the Post Office in Hobbiton.” Robin felt relieved. The Man seemed to take them seriously, and had not laughed at him, as some of the other hobbits had thought he might do.

Targon started to say farewell to the hobbit, and then thought of something. “Oh, Mr. Smallburrow, I do have one question--I hope that you will not be offended by it, but I know that there is a great deal of ill-feeling towards the prisoners. Can you assure me that they will not be accosted, unless they cause trouble or try to escape?”

Robin looked thoughtful. “Oh, aye,” he finally said. “They been Marked and are on their way out of the Shire. Probably won’t nobody even so much as speak to them, unless they try to get clever.”

The Gondorian nodded, and said farewell. He had noticed that the other hobbits would not even use the names of the prisoners, saying “they” and “them” in a tone of contempt. It was as though by their transgressions they were no longer hobbits any more. A very harsh punishment indeed for a people as social as the Shirelings. And he certainly thought that a guard of twelve of these doughty little people would be sufficient to protect the encampment. Not to mention the fact that turning them down might offend them. He was fairly sure that Éothain would agree.

__________________________________________________

“I agree.” Paladin kept his eyes down, lest Eglantine see the amusement in them. She had been marshalling her arguments in the expectation that he would disagree. He didn’t often catch her out this way, and he might as well enjoy it while he could.

“It’s the least we can do for poor Frodo--you said you *agreed*?” She looked at him suspiciously.

“Why, yes, dear. We will be travelling in that direction anyway, and Sara and Esme will be going. Why shouldn’t we attend Sam’s wedding?”

She burst out laughing. “You old fox. You’ve been planning for us to go all along!”

“Why, yes, dear. Meriadoc asked his father and I to be witnesses on the marriage document. We can’t very well do that if we are not there. Ow!”

He rubbed the back of his head ruefully.

She laughed, and then looked thoughtful. “Why do you suppose Merry would do that?”

“Simple, my dear, it reinforces the idea that Sam is a person of importance, and not simply Frodo’s gardener.”

“I believe that Pearl and Pervinca are also planning to attend. Unfortunately, Pimpernel is not feeling up to travelling. She is having a more difficult time, this time around.” Eglantine sighed. She was worried about her middle daughter.

“I had noticed that. Milo told me that he thinks it means it might be a lad this time. But he says that Pimmie won’t guess at it any longer. And he said that she has told him she decided on names for a lad and a lass, but she won’t tell him what they are yet.”

Eglantine smiled. “Lasses can get some strange notions when they are with child. I had a few of them myself, in the past.”

“I wish now, though, that I could have persuaded Poppy to stay,” he said worriedly.

“It will be all right, dear. I have met and talked with Mistress Lavender. She is a most capable healer, and I think that Poppy chose wisely in asking her to take her place this year. She is already going about and seeing the patients with Poppy, and has begun to work with poor little Opal. She has sent word to have her apprentice join her after Poppy leaves. You might find it interesting to know that her apprentice is one of the North-tooks.”

“Ah,” said Paladin. “That is interesting.” The North-tooks for the most part tended to disdain their distant Southern kin. He wondered how a daughter of that line would find it, being in Tookland, and working in the Great Smials.

Eglantine stood up. “If we are going to the wedding, then I had better begin making the preparations to leave.” She dropped a kiss on her husband’s brow, and headed out to her duties for the day.

_________________________________________________

Nine hobbits sat in a corner at the Green Dragon. Six of them were looking a bit apprehensively at the other three.

Frodo smiled to put them at their ease. “You know,” he said, “that Fredegar here asked us to meet with you this morning. He thought it would be a good idea for you to be able to ask any questions you might have.”

Merry grinned, and glanced over at Pippin. His younger cousin seemed to be over his melancholy of the day before. “We won’t bite, I promise. Feel free to ask whatever you wish. If we can answer, we will; if we can’t we’ll tell you we don’t know.”

Jolly glanced over at Fredegar. His leader was sitting back, waiting for the rest of them to speak. He knew that Captain Freddy had probably asked all kinds of questions already, before he ever even thought of taking this on. Mr. Berilac was a gentlehobbit, and should by rights go first, but he wasn’t saying anything, just looking up at Captain Merry, and then looking back down to the wet circle his ale was leaving on the table. Jolly didn’t think it was shyness, but he obviously wasn’t going to speak yet. Mr. Mosco was also being quiet. He kept looking at Captain Freddy. And Rolly and Denny Banks clearly weren’t going to speak first either.

He cleared his throat. “Um--not to be speaking out of turn here, but I just want to know what we can expect with Men. I mean ours that came here have been real fair-spoken and polite, I mean to say, it seems clear that they must be gentry where they come from; but we all saw the other kind of Men here last year, and I just wonder, which kind we’ll see the most of, and what the other Men will do to us.”

Merry glanced at Frodo, who nodded, so he answered. “Jolly, you might be surprised to know that except for Éothain, who is close kin to my King in Rohan, none of these Men are what we’d call gentry in the Shire. All of them are common Men, who are soldiers in their lands. They have attained their positions by hard work and bravery. But you are right about them being uncommonly fair-spoken. They have been trained to discipline themselves, for their very lives may depend upon that. And in Gondor, most of the people are much more formal than we are here.”

Pippin laughed. “In fact, the folk in Minas Tirith insisted on giving me the rank of ‘prince’, if you can believe it, because I spoke informally to their Steward. They thought that only one of high rank would dare to be so intimate. And I had not a clue of why until later. But I couldn’t change my way of speaking that much, so the idea persisted.”

Merry chuckled. “Yes, when you hear the phrase Ernil i Pheriannath you’ll know they are talking about our Pip.”

All the others, except for Freddy, who had heard all this before, looked at Pippin in amazement.

Frodo spoke up then. “You ask what kind most Men are. They are not all so courteous, or so kind. But you will be well protected from the rougher sort of Men by this escort. And I hate to say this, but it is the sorrowful truth, there are more wicked Men about than there are wicked hobbits. Yet the Men who are good and great are so much better and greater than hobbits, as well.”

Merry looked at Frodo. He wanted to point out that the best and greatest person of all *was* a hobbit, but that would only distress his cousin, who never at any time could be brought to admit how great he was.

Pippin spoke up now. “You will be traveling among Men, and living among them for months. You will soon know yourselves what you think of them.”

Berilac looked up at Merry again; his eyes flicked down to Merry’s wrist, which just barely peeked out from his shirt cuff, and back up to Merry’s face, where they rested on his scar. “How much danger will we really find Outside? Are there still Orcs and other wicked people laying in wait?”

Merry nodded seriously. “I won’t tell you that all danger is gone. Certainly not all the Orcs were slain, and some bands of them roam the wild yet; and there are bands of ruffians still. We ran them out of the Shire, but we did not destroy them, except for a few.”

They all nodded, thinking of the Battle of Bywater.

“Still,” he continued, “you will be traveling in a large and well armed party. You’ll not be taking any shortcuts through Orc-infested mines, nor be chased by Black Riders, and the King’s protection is not to be taken lightly. I would say my best advice for avoiding danger is to stick together like glue while travelling, and stick to your Men the same way. Don’t allow yourselves to become separated, and you should do just fine.”

Frodo nodded, but surprisingly, Pippin shook his head.

“That’s all good advice,” said Pippin, “but remember this: if you should find yourself alone, you are a hobbit, and we hobbits have proved tougher than anyone could have imagined. Keep your hobbit sense about you, and never forget the Shire, or those you love, and you will manage to land on your feet. Try, however, if you can, to keep out from under falling trolls.”

Merry and Freddy laughed, and Frodo smiled. The smiles of the others, however, were slightly apprehensive.

Now Mosco leaned forward. “Do you really think that it will be all right for Aunt Poppy and Miss Viola?”

Pippin laughed. “Mosco, I daresay I have seen more of your cousin over the years than you have. I do not believe that there is anything that could face her down! She has hobbit sense in abundance, and knows how to use it. And I am sure any apprentice of hers will have learned to do the same. I wish I could see when she meets old Strider--I mean the King--as a healer. She will pick his brains until he hasn’t any left!”

Merry chuckled. “Pip, she had to be a dragon. How else was she going to get tonic down you all those years?”

Pippin stuck his tongue out at his older cousin. Everyone else laughed.

__________________________________________________

In the small tent near the center of the Men’s encampment, Poppy and Viola sat, looking through their medical satchels, making sure of what they carried.

“Mistress,” asked Viola hesitantly, “aren’t you frightened at all about leaving the Shire?”

“No.”

Viola kept looking at her. Sometimes she had to stare her mistress into giving more of an answer. Left to her own devices, Poppy could be very taciturn.

Poppy sighed. Her apprentice was so persistant. “No, I am not frightened for several reasons. First, nothing has happened yet to be frightened of. There’s no danger, so I shouldn’t like to waste perfectly good fright over mere fretting and worrying. Second, I’m quite looking forward to seeing new things and places and people. Third, it will all be worth it to learn some of the things that the healers of the South know, and bring it back to the Shire. I think that is my purpose, to do this, so obviously nothing is going to happen to prevent that,” she said calmly.

Viola looked at her with wide eyes. She wondered if she would ever develop that confidence that just shone from Poppy. Truth be told, she was less frightened over this trip than she was of the idea that she would soon be on her own as a healer. Would she ever be as good as her mistress?

___________________________________________________

The Gaffer looked around his little hole. It was snug and cozy, well-appointed, better in fact, than it had been before the Troubles. “It’s an ill-wind,” he thought, and not for the first time, “as blows nobody any good!”

But after tomorrow, it would be just him and Marigold. And come Lithe, his little Marigold would wed her Tom. They’d asked him to come make his home with them; he had yet to decide if he would.

He supposed there was some as would be angered at Mr. Frodo, taking his Sammy away for so long, and now they was back, asking him and Rosie to live up at Bag End, leaving the Gaffer again. But Mr. Frodo had always been kind; he wouldn’t of gone off like that with Sam if he hadn’t of had to. And the Gaffer could see what Sam couldn’t--that Mr. Frodo wanted for Sam to have a better life than to just be a servant. Some folks might think Mr. Frodo was having Sam and Rosie there to do for him, but the Gaffer knew better. He knew what was in Mr. Frodo’s heart.

All those years trying to teach Samwise not to get above his station, and he’d gone and done it anyway, without any trying, just by being his own sweet self, and being loyal to his master. “It’s an ill-wind as blows nobody any good--but the ill wind that had blown on Mr. Frodo, now, that was a sad one. And it was going to blow a lot of good Sam’s way, and Sam would rue every bit of it, if it lost him his master. A good and fitting thing that he had Rosie. She’d make him a good wife, and sooth away the sorrow sure to come.

CHAPTER 67

Legolas slipped out of Bag End to greet the Sun as she peeped above the horizon. He raised his face to her light and warmth, and breathed in the scent of spring, as he made his way to the young mallorn. She was growing apace, thanks to the blessing of the Lady Galadriel. He placed a hand on the silvery trunk and listened to her voice. This young tree would be different than her cousins in Lothlórien. Their roots were sunk in the soil of a land that time forgot. But *this* mallorn, her roots were seeking the rich, fertile earth of the Shire, twining down into the fecund and fruitful loam of a land that was enriched by mortality. The seasons chased one another more swiftly here than in Lórien, yet the cycle of the year had its own kind of timelessness.

He smiled. Today, his friend Samwise would wed Rose, and begin his own journey into that which made a sort of immortality for those who were all too mortal. All too soon, he thought, though perhaps not soon enough for them, his friends Merry and then Pippin would also begin that journey. Frodo, though, Frodo would have a different journey--never had he thought before to encounter in one of mortal kind that which both troubled and delighted his own heart--the sea-longing. Today, however, was not a day to think on that particular ache, but to rejoice.

His sharp Elven ears heard the stirring not far away, in the encampment of Men, as they too began to wake and face the small duties of the morning. It was fitting that they should also be able to see this celebration; it was a shame that Aragorn could not have set aside his own duties to be here, but his representatives would make his presence felt.

Legolas rose to his feet with fluid grace, and made his way down the Hill. He would go and see to his friend Arod, before heading back to Bag End, to learn if he might be of any assistance this day.

_________________________________________________

Merry had barely finished his knock upon the door of Number Three, when it was opened by the Gaffer.

“Good morning to you, Mr. Merry,” said Sam’s father with a smirk. “I take it you’ve come to see to my Sammy this morn?”

“How is he?” asked Merry grinning. The night before, Sam’s friends had dragged him down to The Green Dragon, and there plied him with ale and silly stories, until the gardener could barely stand. The inn had rung to the rafters with their laughter, and the local hobbitry soon got over being abashed by the presence of the Thain and the Master, who had arrived earlier in the evening with their wives, taking rooms in the newly reopened inn. They had long since got over the presence of the Men, the Elf and the Dwarf among them. It had been a jolly evening. Sam had been embarrassed by any number of yarns told about himself by his friends, and Merry had seen to it that the evening did not turn maudlin at the end. But Sam had been definitely glowing from the ale by the time they brought him home.

“He’s not wakened yet, more’s the pity,” said Sam’s father. “But I’ve already mixed up some of my remedy for when he does. If you care to drag his sorry carcass out of the bed, that and some cold water on the neck should have him right as rain in no time.”

Merry laughed. “That sounds a marvelous plan to me, Gaffer. The sooner we get started the better. Can’t have him late to his own wedding.” This last was a bit disingenuous of Merry, as it was barely sun-up, and the wedding not till noon.

_______________________________________________________

“Rose?” Lily Cotton knocked softly on her daughter’s door. “Rose, my love, are you awake yet?”

“Come in, Mama,” said a sleepy voice.

Lily entered her daughter’s room to see her sitting up in the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Rose, Marigold is here. It’s time you got up and had a bite of breakfast; you’ve much to do before noon.”

Rose’s eyes widened. She had been sleeping hard, and on waking had not at first remembered the day. Today was her wedding! She moved quickly from the bed, and grabbed her dressing gown. “What are we waiting for?” she exclaimed. “I’ve got to take a bath, and do my hair, and--”

Lily laughed. “Slow down, lass, there’s aught as won’t wait until you’ve had a bit to eat.”

__________________________________________________________

Frodo stirred. What were those smells? Bacon; mushrooms--and coffee! Did he smell coffee? He did! Someone had brewed coffee! He grabbed his dressing gown and made his way to the kitchen.

There he found Pippin, with Gimli and Bergil, busily cooking breakfast.

“Pip!” he said, “you’ve been into the coffee!”

“Of course,” answered his cousin. “I do think Sam’s wedding day is at least as special an occasion as an invasion of Dwarves.”

Frodo laughed, remembering how Bilbo had told of the Dwarves seeming familiarity with the contents of his larder, and how they had demanded coffee. “You are right. But it is quite a pleasant surprise to wake up to!” He looked about. Legolas he did not yet expect to see, the Elf was probably still taking his morning walk; but-- “Where are Merry and Freddy?”

Pippin grinned. “Oh, Freddy’s still slug-a-bed; but Merry’s up and gone ages ago, to see to Sam.”

“Oh dear!” exclaimed Frodo. “I had meant to go with him!”

“You needed your rest, dear,” said Pippin. “Besides, it’s Merry’s job to do; I don’t imagine waking Sam this morning will be any too pleasant.”

Frodo shook his head. The three cousins had been careful to nurse their ales the night before. They knew they would need clear heads on the morrow, but they had plied the nervous Sam, and he was going to be beautifully hung over this morning. “That’s not going to be so bad. The Gaffer has a remedy for it that will put Sam right as rain.” Frodo made a face. “I think that it works just because it tastes so foul, you have to sober up quickly lest you face a second dose.”

___________________________________________________

Marigold and Rosie sat down to a nice breakfast, Mari’s second, and Rosie’s first. Lily bustled about, placing griddlecakes and bacon before them. But Rosie was only able to get through one serving of everything.

“Eat up, lass,” said her mother. “You’re going to need every bit of it to get through the day. You can’t be wed on nothing but nerves.”

“I’m sorry, Mama, but I’m just not that hungry this morning. Maybe I’ll have more appetite by elevenses.” But she did not sound hopeful. By elevenses, she’d only be an hour from her wedding, and the nerves even more tautly strung.

“It’s all right, Missus Lily,” said Marigold. “I’ll not let her faint from hunger. We need to get to Number Three. Has Mr. Tolman got the cart ready?”

For Marigold and Rosie and her mother would be taking over the Gaffer’s hole this morning, so that she could get ready closer to the wedding site.

_____________________________________________________

The cold water still dripping from his hair and slightly bloodshot eyes were the only remaining signs of Sam’s hangover, as he and Merry sat down in the kitchen. The Gaffer placed before them porridge, scones and bacon, and a pot of tea; Sam’s first breakfast and Merry’s second.

Sam helped himself to honey for his tea. He usually liked it unsweetened in the morning, but he needed to get the taste of the Gaffer’s remedy out of his mouth. “Marigold’s already gone over to fetch Rosie?” For his sister was standing with Rose, and had much the same duties as Merry to see to.

“Aye,” said the Gaffer, with a chuckle, “so we’d better get on up to Bag End and leave this hole to the females. Daisy and May ’ll be along aforetime to help ’em out.” He sat down with a cup of tea for himself. “Are all your wedding togs up to Bag End, son?”

Sam blushed. He’d be wearing the finery he had worn at the Ball. Just about everyone in the Shire had seen him in those garments *except* the Gaffer, and he was almost more embarrassed at the idea of his father seeing him in that get-up than he had been to be introduced at the Ball.

What *was* his father going to say, to see him all got up like that?

Merry answered for him. “Yes, Master Hamfast. We saw to getting everything ready yesterday.” Merry polished off the last bite of his third scone, and downed the last of his tea. “Come on then, Sam. Frodo’s going to get worried if we don’t get on up there.”

___________________________________________________

Freddy paused to listen; Bergil was in the guest room he was sharing with Pippin, practicing the little piece he had learned to play for the wedding. Funny how it no longer seemed to hurt when he heard the lad play his flute. It still reminded him of Folco, but in a sweet sort of way. He was glad to realize this. Perhaps the ache of missing his friend was going to be bearable after all. He headed for the kitchen; maybe there was still some breakfast left to be had.

_____________________________________________________

Tolman Cotton pulled his cart up at Number Three, and Lily, Rose and Marigold clambered down. He then headed on up the Hill. He’d keep the Gaffer company at Bag End, while Tom, Jolly, Nick and Nibs, who had ridden in the back of the cart, all headed up to the Party Field to help set up the tables.

____________________________________________________

At the Men’s encampment, they had a good view of all the hobbits busily bustling about, setting things up for the wedding. Targon and Éothain eyed the thirteen hobbits who stood lined up before them.

“Good day, Mr. Smallburrow,” said Targon. "I see thirteen of you?"

“Good day to you, Captain Targon,” replied the Shirriff. “I didn't get drawn for this duty, but I came along to introduce 'em to you before I head to the wedding.  These are the lads what’ll be watching the camp for you while you and your Men go to the wedding.” He turned and carefully introduced each of them. None of them showed anything more than social abashment at the idea of meeting the Men. They had lost any fear of Men that they might have had after the Battle of Bywater. But Targon was also pleased to note no sign of resentment either. Perhaps their embassy had accomplished one of the King’s main hopes: to show that not all Men were like the ruffians who had overrun the Shire.

“For your convenience this day,” said Targon, “we have put the prisoners together in one place. But we have kept Clovis Banks somewhat apart, and bound, since he seems inclined still to make trouble.”

One of the shirriffs spat. “Don’t surprise me none,” he said. “I’m Nip Tunelly, from Underhill. There’s nothing bad *that one* won’t get up to, if left to hisself.” A couple of the others, who had also known Clovis, gave a nod. “If you’ve got him all tied up nice and neat, now, though he shouldn’t be no problem.”

The two envoys looked at one another with appreciation. These small people seemed quite capable. And really, were there any trouble at all, they and their Men were only going to be the length of the Party Field away.

_____________________________________________________

Frodo paced the study. He was very nearly as nervous as Sam. Pippin watched him in amusement.

“Goodness, Frodo, you’d think *you* were the one getting married today!”

“I just want everything to be perfect for Sam and Rose,” Frodo said, as he turned and paced back.

“Everything *is* perfect for Sam and Rose, as long as they have each other, and you to bless it all, cousin. Even if it should rain, or perish forbid, someone show up with a gift, they’ll never even notice once they lay eyes on one another.”

Frodo gave a rueful chuckle. “Thank you, Pip. I’ll try to relax. How do you suppose they are getting on in there?”

In the master bedroom, which after today would be his, Sam was being dressed by Merry and the Gaffer, with some advice by his future father-in-law. He felt a right fool in front of them, putting on that wine-colored velvet.

As Merry fiddled with his buttons, and tugged at his collar, he felt a sudden silence in the room. Sam turned, to see the Gaffer staring at him with proud tears in his eyes.

All his father said, in all seriousness, and no hint of mockery, was “You look a right treat, son. You’ll do your Rosie proud on her wedding day.”

Sam felt his heart give a lurch at the unaccustomed praise. He reached out and gathered his father into a hug.

____________________________________________________

Paladin and Saradoc and their families made their way to the Party Field. This was their first good look at the mallorn.

Paladin gasped. “Pippin told me that Sam planted that as a seed, the end of last autumn! Now look at it!” For it already stood heads taller than the tallest of the Men.

Saradoc nodded. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? I suppose it is because it is an Elvish tree.”

_____________________________________________________

“Rose,” said her mother, looking at her daughter in the striking pink gown she had worn to the Ball, with a wreath of spring flowers and ribbons on her hair, “you are so beautiful!”

Rose blushed. Her mother was not often given to that sort of praise.

Marigold walked all around her friend, checking to make sure all was properly in place. “I think you’ll do, Rosie,” she said softly.

_________________________________________________

Targon, Éothain, and all the Men lined themselves up at the back of the crowd of hobbits who had begun to gather. A few of the hobbits turned to crane their necks up and give a smile, and one cheeky tweenager gathered the nerve to say “How’s the weather up there?”

___________________________________________________

The males of the wedding party made their way to the spot next to the mallorn, where a table stood waiting for the marriage document to be signed. Frodo placed the document carefully on the table, weighting it against a stray breeze by the inkwell of red ink on one corner, and some polished stones on the others. Sam and Merry stood to one side of him. Pippin and the others made their way to the front line of assembled hobbitry. Now they only awaited the bride.

____________________________________________________

Rose clutched Marigold’s hand and took a deep breath. Her mother gave her a hug. Daisy and May were sniffling into their handkerchiefs already. As they left the hole, Daisy pulled the door to Number Three firmly shut, and they headed to the Party Field.

______________________________________________________

Everyone knew when the bride approached, by the glow on Sam’s face.

CHAPTER 68

Frodo stepped forward as Rose and Marigold approached. The lasses stood to his left, and Merry and Sam to his right. He looked at Sam and Rose, and felt a great swell of love and gratitude. His Sam was finally going to get the chance at all the happiness he deserved, and there was no lass better than Rose to give it to him. He watched as they fell into one another’s eyes, and the moment seemed frozen in time.

Merry cleared his throat.

With a start, Frodo gave his cousin a grateful, if rueful, smile, and began.

“I have before me two hobbits who have come with a petition of marriage. Who will vouch for them?”

Merry spoke up, using the words of the ancient formula. “I am Meriadoc Brandybuck, a hobbit of Buckland. I present Samwise Gamgee, a hobbit of Hobbiton, known to me as a hobbit of good character, who is of age, with no reasons why he should not be wed.”

Then it was Marigold’s turn. “I am Marigold Gamgee, a hobbitess of Hobbiton. I present Rose Cotton, a hobbitess of Bywater, known to me as a hobbitess of good character, who is of age, with no reasons why she should not be wed.”

Frodo turned to Sam, beaming. “Samwise Gamgee, is it your intent to wed Rose Cotton, of your own free will?”

Sam looked briefly at Frodo, and then back at his Rosie. “Aye, it is,” he answered firmly.

“Rose Cotton, is it your intent to wed Samwise Gamgee, of your own free will?”

“Aye, right willingly,” she exclaimed clearly.

“Samwise Gamgee and Rose Cotton, you have declared before witnesses your intent to wed. The duties of marriage are to honor and support one another; the blessings of marriage are to love and respect one another. These duties and these blessings are meant to last for a lifetime. Are you prepared to take on these tasks, through such joys and sorrows as may in time come to you?”

“We are!” Their voices rang out together in perfect unison.

This was the point in the ceremony for which Frodo had waited. The formalities almost out of the way, it was where the officiator had the chance to make a small speech if he chose, usually about the couple in question. Frodo had thought long and hard about what he would say.

“I have known Samwise Gamgee for most of my life. This is a hobbit whose love of growing things has been his delight since he was a small child. This is a hobbit whose roots go deep into the Shire; I don’t know of any hobbit who loves the Shire more, or who feels a greater connection to this small land of ours. Yet for all of that, he was willing to lose it all, out of love and loyalty to a friend. He followed his friend into mortal danger, over and over, and might never have come out alive. Yet under it all was his hope to come home, to his Shire, and to his Rose. He could have stayed in a far place where he would be honored as one of the great ones of the land, yet still he chose to come home and become once more a simple gardener. And when he came home and found the Shire had been marred by the very evils he had tried to prevent, he turned his hand to repairing the damage. We stand here beside this tree, the seed of which was the gift of a great Elven lady. But the tree is the gift of Samwise to the Shire, and a symbol of his love for this country.”

Frodo reached his hand to the side, and placed it on the trunk of the tree, pausing for a few seconds before he continued.

“And while he was gone, doing all that was in his power to save what was good and lovely in the world, there were those here who doubted he would ever return. But there was one who never doubted, never wavered, never stopped looking for his return. Rose Cotton waited through a long and lonely year, with no knowledge of his whereabouts, nor any real reason besides the love and loyalty in her heart to think he would return. And when he did return, she was here for him.

This marriage is the reward that both of them deserve, to be happy with one another for a lifetime. I am proud to be their friend, and happier than I can say, to see this result of their loyalty and devotion.

Sam and Rosie, may the Valar always smile upon you, and shower you with all the blessings you deserve!”

There were tears running unheeded and unchecked down Frodo’s face; Sam and Rosie also were silently crying, and Merry had to brush his own eyes. Among the assembled, there were quite a few sniffles being heard.

Frodo took a deep breath, and blinked.

“Would the designated witnesses step forward: Halfred Gamgee; Tolman Cotton the younger; Wilcome Cotton; Fredegar Bolger; Meriadoc Brandybuck; Saradoc Brandybuck--

In the front row there was a stir as they prepared to step up. Pippin suddenly found his elbows being taken by his uncle Saradoc and his father.

“--Paladin Took; Peregrin Took.”

There was a buzz among the hobbits. That was *eight* names--and everyone knew Peregrin was not of age yet. What was going on?

Pippin wondered the same thing. He was in daze. He noticed Frodo, Merry and Sam grinning at him.

Frodo spoke out. “It has been brought to our attention by those who are in a position to know, that in the event a hobbit who has not come of age needs to sign a legal document, it will be allowed, provided that a parent or legal guardian also witnesses the signature. In such an event there will be seven adult witnesses in addition to that of the minor.”

The others had all signed, Pippin stood there, eyes wide, and with trembling hand took the quill from his father. He dipped it into the red ink and wrote beneath the other names, “Peregrin Took”. Paladin took back the quill and wrote next to it, “attested by Paladin Took.”

Then Paladin handed the quill to Frodo, who gave it to Sam. Sam wrote his name, and gave the quill to Rose. The marriage document was the only legal document a female hobbit could sign. Finally, Frodo wrote beneath it all, “Frodo Baggins, Deputy Mayor.”

Frodo spoke once more. “With the signing of this document, and by my authority as Deputy Mayor, I now declare these two hobbits are husband and wife.” He took Sam’s and Rose’s hands and placed them together. “I present to you: Mr. and Mrs. Samwise Gamgee!”

Sam reached out to embrace Rose, and give her the first kiss as his wife. It was intended to be a nice, respectable kiss for the public to see, but Rose had other ideas. There was a chorus of laughter and cheers, when Sam finally was able to come up for air.

Merry came over to the table to take charge of the marriage lines and keep the document safe, until it could be taken to Bag End. Pippin came up with tears in his eyes. “Merry--how? How?”

His cousin grinned at him. “Well, after our little chat the other day, I did a bit of checking; actually, I asked old Grubb to check for me. He had to look through a lot of dusty old law books, but he found me an answer. It‘s not done very often--in fact it‘s usually reserved for when a couple of tweenagers put the dessert before the main course--” This was the usual hobbit euphemism for a hobbit lass and lad who anticipated the delights of matrimony without the formality of it. “but not always.”

Frodo was smiling at him fondly, and Sam with his arm around Rose. “Mr. Merry asked me about it, and I told him that if there was any way at all, I wanted your name on our marriage lines. Rosie agreed.”

Rose leaned forward and gave Pippin a kiss on the cheek. “Mr. Pippin, I would have sorely missed not having your name on there. It’s only right, you being so dear a friend!”

Pippin sniffled, and wiped his eyes. Merry laughed. “Don’t you have a job to do? Aren’t there some musicians around here that need to start playing?”

He looked at Merry with a sweet smile. “Indeed there are, and I’ll get right to it. But thank you, Merry, for reminding me why I love you.”

Merry laughed. “Why because I’m perfect in every way, of course, cousin!”

Pippin shook his head, and gave his cousin a playful swat before heading over to the stand where the band he had engaged was set up.

Marigold headed down to check on whether the wedding luncheon was almost ready. She was sure Lily had things well in hand, but as the one who had stood with Rose, it was one of her responsibilities to see to it.

So far, all had gone well, with no unpleasant surprises. Mr. Pippin--now that was a *pleasant* surprise. Mari recalled only too well what a scapegrace lad Mr. Pippin had been before he went away. But he had returned all grown up. He had been a dangerous warrior when it came to those ruffians, but a fair-spoken gentlehobbit now, all the same. He still liked a joke, and probably always would, if Mr. Merry were anything to go by, but he knew now when it was time to be serious. She had scoffed once when Sam had told her that Mr. Pippin had stood to attention for hours on end when he was guarding the King. “I can’t believe he would stand still for five minutes, much less hours.” “Believe it,” Sam had answered. She did now. Though when he didn’t *have* to be still, he fidgeted just as much as ever he did. It must be a sore trial to him not to be of age yet.

Funny, she thought, how things had turned out for her brother, with his three best friends being gentry, and him being honored by the King and all. But her Sammy deserved it if anybody did, and in spite of all their father had been afeared of, over Sam making friends above his station, they had all proven themselves to be true friends, and not just childhood playmates.

She soon came to the kitchen tent, where the food was being readied. Lily was there, and Daisy and May and Halfred’s wife Holly, and a number of other lasses, friends and cousins. They had slipped away while the marriage lines were still being signed.

Nearly all the food was on the tables now, and Marigold got her first look at the beautiful wedding cake that Lily had made. It was huge, covered in marzipan, with a crown of sugar paste roses.

“Oh, Mistress Lily! What a beautiful cake! It’s going to be a shame to cut it!”

Lily laughed. “Well, ‘twould be a shame not to cut it, as I hope it is as good on the inside.” But she blushed at the praise. Lily had spent her tweenage years working for her uncle, who was a baker of some renown, and her cakes were famous for both their beauty and their taste.

“Did you put the silver penny in?” asked Marigold.

“Well, of course I did. It wouldn’t be a wedding cake otherwise!” In Shire tradition, a silver penny was baked into the cake. If a child or tweenager, or an adult over eighty, found it, it simply meant good luck--which, as many said, was only reasonable, seeing as how it made them a penny the richer--but if an older lass or lad, still unwed, found it, it meant they would soon be wed. If they were already wed, it meant a child would soon be on the way. But if the bride or groom should find it, it meant they would have a child within the year. And some said, if the groom found it, it meant a daughter, and if the bride found it, it meant a son. But Marigold had never yet heard of a wedding where the bride or groom found the penny.

Pippin, still a bit bemused over the surprise his friends and family had pulled on him, had made his way to the bandstand, and was checking to see if they were ready to begin playing. There would be some lively music to listen to during the luncheon, and he wanted to make sure the musicians had already eaten. After luncheon there would be some special songs in honor of the bride and groom, and then the dancing would begin. Bergil and Anwynd were there.

“Sir Pippin!” exclaimed Bergil, “they’ve said we might play with them!”

Pippin laughed. “Well, Bergil, if they do not mind, I do not. But wait until after you have played your special piece for Rose and Sam!”

Anwynd nodded gravely. “That is what I have told him, Sir Peregrin.”

“Well, that’s good then! Are you coming down to the luncheon?”

His friends nodded. Pippin looked up at the grinning musicians, and told them “Play the guests to the table then!”

Merry was doing his best to usher Frodo, the bride and the groom, through the crowd of well-wishers, and towards the tables. The sound of the music signaling the food was ready helped, as suddenly everyone found reason to be heading in the same direction.

Sam and Rose were seated together at the head of the table, with Frodo to one side of them, and Merry and Marigold to the other. At the far end of the table, a section had been left with no chairs, so that the Men could sit on the ground there and be of the right height for the table. The rest of the guests at this table were close family and friends. There were three other long tables set up for all the other guests.

For some time, the hobbits concentrated on the food. Plates were filled and dishes passed. As with most hobbit meals, table conversation centered around the food, though there was some talk of the ceremony, how lovely it was, and of the little surprise at the end. A few of the older, more conservative hobbits were slightly offended at the idea that an underage hobbit had been allowed to sign the marriage lines, but they were out-numbered by those who thought it only fair that Captain Peregrin be allowed to put his name down.

As the food began to dwindle, and the eating slowed, Merry tapped the table for attention, and stood to make his toast to the bride and groom. He stood up, and holding his tankard high, exclaimed: “To Samwise the Stout-hearted and the Lovely Rosie Cotton--now Gamgee--Love! Luck! And a hole filled with many Little Blessings!”

“Hear! Hear!”

“I’ll keep my speech short--” There was much applause at this. “It’s been an honor for me to stand with my good friend today as he wed. This marriage has been a long time coming, and all I will say is that no two hobbits deserve one another more than our Sam and our Rose!”

Merry sat down to even greater applause, and this was the signal to bring the cake in.

There were “oohs” and “ahhs” of appreciation as it was set in front of the bride and groom. Sam and Rose stood up to cut it together, and the first piece went by tradition to the officiator, Frodo. The rest of the pieces were passed down the table, and the bride and groom took the last two slices.

There was a bit of silence as folk began to eat, many carefully picking throught their cake in hopes of finding the lucky penny.

Suddenly, there was an exclamation from Sam. In amazement, he reached between his teeth, and brought out the silver penny!

____________________________________________________

CHAPTER 69

Now that the luncheon was ended, it was Pippin’s turn to get to work. He moved to the bandstand, and jumping up, he let out with a shrill whistle that cut through all the conversation like a knife through cheese.

“My dear hobbits!” he called, pitching his voice to be heard far back in the field, “we have some special songs and music to honor our bride and groom!”

Tom and Jolly carried forward a couple of chairs, which they placed in front of the bandstand, and Merry and Marigold escorted Sam and Rosie to them.

Blushing, Sam and Rose were seated; Sam was still a bit apprehensive about this; he didn’t think Mr. Pippin would have any of *those* songs he’d learned from the soldiers in Gondor, but with him, you never knew for sure. He’d never known a hobbit so unpredictable. And after that little “gift” he and Mr. Merry had given Sam and Rosie yesterday, well, he didn’t know *what* to think. Rose, on the other hand was perfectly serene; Mr. Pippin liked a joke, but he was fond of Sam, and he’d not disgrace their wedding. Her Sam would know better, too, if he weren’t so nervous already. She glanced up and behind. Frodo and Merry stood behind her new husband, and each had a hand upon his shoulder. Frodo saw her looking, and returned her smile; Merry’s eyes were on Pippin, and he was grinning.

“First of all,” proclaimed Pippin, “we will have a bit of flute music from two of our visitors to the Shire, Anwynd Anfrith’s son and Bergil, son of Beregond!”

Anwynd came and sat upon the edge of the bandstand, and Bergil sat down next to him. Bergil gave Pippin a nervous look, and Pippin smiled his reassurance.

They began to play, in perfect unison, a sprightly air that was used to usher in the spring in Rohan. Pippin had stepped back, and he watched the crowd, as many of them began to bounce upon their heels or tap their feet in time to the music. Once he had begun to play, Bergil had lost his nervousness, and the music was perfect, with not a single shrill or sour note to spoil it. The tune finally came to an end, and the two musicians stood and took their bows to much applause.

Then Pippin stood up, and looked Sam dead in the eye. “The song I am going to sing for you now was written by Samwise himself in honor of his Rose, while we were far from home in Minas Tirith.”

Sam blushed bright red. It had been bad enough yesterday, to be confronted with his scribblings; now everyone in the Shire was going to hear. He started to sink down in his chair, but Rose reached over and put her hand beneath his elbow, and he could feel Frodo’s and Merry’s firm hands upon his shoulders, pinning him in place.

Pippin’s smile was fond, not mischievous, as he began to sing-- “Oh, the lovely Rosie Cotton, I’m going home to see…” (1)

When the song came to an end, there were any number of sniffles heard among the crowd, and Rose’s face glowed like the sunshine. Looking at her, Sam thought maybe it wasn’t such a bad song as he had thought at the time. His Rosie liked it, and he guessed that was all that mattered.

Now Pippin decided to lighten the mood a bit. “Some of us remember fondly a hobbit named Bilbo Baggins, who was last seen in the Shire on this very spot. The dear fellow made a number of songs, and this is one of his favorites--

The Man in the Moon had silver shoon,
and his beard was of silver thread;
With opals crowned and pearls all bound
about his girdle stead,
In his mantle grey he walked one day
across a shining floor,
And with crystal key in secrecy
he opened and ivory door--”

The song was a long one; he wasn’t nearly halfway through when he had to pause to down some ale that Merry held up to him, to wet his throat.

“Thanks, cousin!” he said before continuing.

This song had been a favorite among many of the young hobbits who had spent time at Bilbo’s knee when they were faunts, and by the end, Pippin heard a number of voices singing along.

For hunger or drouth naught passed his mouth
till he gave both crown and cloak;
And all that he got, in an earthen pot
broken and black with smoke,
Was porridge cold and two days old
to eat with a wooden spoon.
For puddings of Yule with plums, poor fool,
he arrived so much too soon;
An unwary guest on a lunatic quest
from the Mountains of the Moon.” (2)

Needing a breather, Pippin nodded to Legolas, who had been watching with a smile from the side. The Elf came up and sat on the edge of the bandstand, and without introduction began to sing in Sindarin. It was not so sad as most Elven songs, a paean of praise to the Sun and to the Spring and to all good things that make life wonderful in Arda.  It was a long song, and  he did not sing it all, but just enough of it to make an impression. His clear voice soared over the assembled hobbits, and lifted their hearts up with it.

Then he began to sing another song, this one in Westron. It was not an Elven song, but a song of the Dunedain, which he had learned of Aragorn long ago.

Over the mountains
And over the waves,
Under the fountains
And under the graves,
Under the floods that are deepest,
Which Ulmo obey
Over rocks that are the steepest,
Love will find out the way.

Where there is no place
For the glow-worm to lie,
Where there is no space
For receipt of a fly,
Where the goat dares not venture
Lest herself fast she lay,
But if Love comes, he will enter,
And will find out the way.

You may esteem him
A child for his might
Or you may deem him
A coward from his flight.
But if she whom Love doth honor,
Be concealed from the day
Set a thousand guards upon her,
Love will find out the way.

Some think to lose him
By having him confined
Some do suppose him
Poor thing, to be blind;
But if ne’er so close ye wall him,
So the best that you may,
Blind Love, if so ye call him,
Will find out the way.

You may train the falcon
To stoop to your fist;
Coax even a dragon
To spare you, at least;
The wolf, you may move her
To give o’er her prey;
But you’ll ne’er stop a lover;
He will find out the way.(3)

When Legolas finished there was silence, broken only by a number of feminine sighs, and a collective deep breath.

Pippin, who had taken advantage of the respite to have another tankard of ale, stood once more upon the bandstand, and asked for requests. There were quite a few songs called out, and he chose from among the requests a jolly song about a couple who never spoke to one another directly, but made their maidservant relay all their words to one another. But one night she eloped with her suitor, knocking over a lamp when she went; the hole caught fire, and the couple only escaped by the skin of their teeth when they finally had to yell “fire!” Having learned their lesson, they never stopped talking again, save when they had food in their mouths. He followed this with a song about three sisters who loved the same lad. The two older fought over him, while the third and youngest happily made off with him. He fielded a request for Bilbo’s “Perry-the-Winkle” and dutifully sang it, though comic songs about trolls now made him shudder.

Finally, he stopped for a bit more ale, and then sang a soft and gentle Tookland song of love.

Why should thy cheek be pale,

Shaded with sorrow’s veil?
Why shoulds’t thou grieve me?
I will never, never leave thee,
‘Mid my deepest sadness
‘Mid my gayest gladness,
I am thine, believe me;
I will never, never leave thee.

Life’s storms may rudely blow,
Laying hope and pleasure low;
I’d ne’er deceive thee;
I could never, never leave thee.
Ne’er till my cheek grow pale,
And my heart pulses fail,
And my last breath grieve thee
Can I ever, ever leave thee!(4)

Now there were many sniffles, and noses being blown. Pippin stepped back and grinned. “Shall we dance?” he called. Giving a signal to the band, he jumped down.

As the infectious music began to be played, and circles began to form, Pippin hopped down. Sam and Rose stood up, and Rose gave him a hug. “That was lovely, Mr. Pippin! Thank you!”

“It was fun Rosie. Thank you for letting me do it!” he turned to Sam, who stood looking at him with shining eyes, “Go dance with your bride, before I take her off and dance with her myself.” He gave Sam a little shove in the direction of the nearest circle. Grinning, Sam grabbed his new wife by the hand.

Pippin turned to Merry. “Not dancing today, cousin?”

“Estella’s not here.” Merry stood watching the dancers wistfully, arms folded.

“Ah.” Pippin looked about. “Well, there’s a circle needs a lad! I’m off!”

Frodo shook his head, smiling, and he and Merry laughed. “That Took!”

_______________________________________________

In the Men’s encampment, the guarding hobbits had been listening to the music with pleasure. The prisoners had sat there sullenly, but had not said anything, knowing they would be ignored--all except Clovis, who had been making nasty and snide remarks from the start. The shirriffs had ignored him as well, paying no attention at all to his invective, and he was beginning to get shrill and hoarse. Cado looked at him in disgust. Didn’t his brother *ever* know when to quit? But he kept his own mouth shut.

Finally, Nip Tunelly had had enough. He reached in his pocket, and pulled out a slightly soiled and rather large red handkerchief. Without  even a word, he turned and stuffed it into Clovis’ open mouth.  Clovis grew even redder at this rude gag, but his mouth was sufficiently stopped that he could not manage anything more than annoyed grunts.

The hobbit next to Nip looked at him sidewise. “Seems like the midges are a bit less noisy now.”

Nip smirked. “Waste of a perfectly good handkerchief.”

______________________________________________________

(1) From my story “The Lovely Rosie Cotton”

(2) From The Tolkien Reader “The Man in the Moon Came Down too Soon”

(3) Adapted from a folk song “Love Will Find Out the Way” found at

http://www.contemplator.com/england/lovefind

(4) From a folk song “I’ll Never Leave Thee” found at

 http://www.contemplator.com/scotland/neverleave.html

CHAPTER 70

The first few dances being played were lively ones, more suitable to the younger hobbits with greater energy and stamina. The older hobbits mostly stood back, and spent a bit of time gossiping and talking over the wedding, and weddings that had gone before.

“At least, “ said Esmeralda to Eglantine, “no one was foolish enough to bring a gift!” She had been careful to warn the Men of that. As outlanders, they would not know hobbit customs. Some of the children, of course, would probably present the bride with handfuls of flowers, but that was acceptable.

Eglantine shook her head. “You know, people always mention that at a wedding, but I have never known it to actually happen. Who would be so crass as to bring a gift to a wedding? Why most people actually think it is bad luck to do so!”

Esmeralda looked at her sister-in-law. “Has no one ever told you of someone who did just that on purpose?”

Eglantine looked scandalized, and gave Esme a puzzled look.

“I suppose being among the Brandybucks, I’ve heard the story a great deal, though I was not present to see it. Lobelia did that: she deliberately brought a gift to Drogo’s and Primula’s wedding. If I remember the story correctly, it was a mathom of some sort--I think it was a hideous vase, or something of the sort. There are many of the older Brandybucks who still think it was because of Lobelia’s ill-wishes, that Frodo’s parents drowned. I know that Menegilda blamed her for years. One of the reasons she opposed allowing Bilbo to take Frodo at first was because of the S.-B.s--she was afraid to have the lad exposed to them.”

Eglantine’s jaw dropped. She had known what a rude old harridan Lobelia had been, but that really seemed beyond the pale to her. “Why on earth would she have done something like that?”

Esme looked at her, surprised that Tina had not heard all this old gossip years ago. But then, this was, understandably more of a Brandybuck thing than a Took one. “Because she had fancied Drogo for herself, of course, and it was before she had caught Otho’s eye!”

________________________________________________________

After a few dances, and another ale, Pippin returned to the bandstand, where Anwynd and Bergil sat cross-legged in front of the fiddler, playing their flutes. He found his Tookland pipes, which he had stashed there, and began to play along. They had begun the Springle-ring, and all over the sward, energetic young couples were joining in.

Freddy stood near the bandstand listening to the music. He had joined several of the circle dances, but the Springle-ring was a couples dance, and since he did not see Angelica anywhere, he decided not to take part. There was quite a crowd, so he was not sure if she had attended or not. He looked up at the musicians, and at Bergil playing so eagerly. The lad had quite a talent, although he would need to practice for several more years to be as good as Folco.

“Hullo, Freddy.” He heard a soft voice say. He turned to see Angelica and Estella standing there.

His face lit up. “I had begun to think you had not come!” he said. “I’d been looking--”

Angelica shook her head. “We almost did not. We did not get back to Hobbiton until late this morning, after elevenses, in fact. Father did not wish to come, but Estella and I got here just as the ceremony began. It was a lovely ceremony. Frodo did it so well.”

“But where have you been? Merry and I both searched the crowd?”

“Oh,” said Estella, “we decided to help with the clearing up after luncheon, so that Rose’s family could more quickly get finished and enjoy some of the music.” She looked about for Merry’s tall form among the swirling crowd. “Where’s Merry?”

“He should be back any moment. He and Frodo walked down to Bag End to put the marriage lines away for safekeeping, and to fetch Frodo’s traveling case.”

“Where is Frodo going?” asked Angelica curiously. She had felt a bit protective of her older cousin ever since their talk at the Ball.

“He’ll be staying at The Ivy Bush tonight, and then tomorrow he will ride out with the rest of us as far as the Brandywine Bridge. Then he’ll go to stay with Merry and Pip at Crickhollow for a couple of weeks, so Sam and Rose can have Bag End to themselves for a proper honeymoon.”

Estella looked puzzled. “But what about the rest of you, that have been staying at Bag End with Frodo?”

“We’ll be camping with the Men tonight. I guess I am going to have to get used to that.” He wrinkled his face in distaste. He’d not been much fond of camping out even as a lad, and living rough during the Troubles had not been much fun, either. But at least *that* he knew he could do. He glanced past the lasses. “Here come Frodo and Merry now.”

Estella’s face shone. Freddy grinned at Angelica. The Springle-ring had ended and they were now starting another couples dance, Happy Hob. “Shall we dance, Miss Angelica?” he asked, offering his arm.

She smiled and took it. “Most certainly, Mr. Fredegar!” They positioned themselves and danced away, leaving Estella to wait on Merry and Frodo. Merry had spotted her, and quickened his pace.

From his position on the bandstand, Pippin watched Merry and Estella also dance away together. If he had not been too busy with the pipes, he would have grinned.

____________________________________________________

Legolas had been dancing with whatever lass was brave enough to do so. His height made it a challenge, and there was a lot of giggling from his various partners. Gimli stood to one side, puffing away at his pipe, and watching. “Fool Elf!” he said fondly.

“Master Gimli--” spoke a hobbit to his side.

He turned, to see a distinguished looking hobbit standing there. “Hervis Grubb at your service,” said the hobbit with a bow.

“Gimli, son of Gloín, at yours and your family’s” returned Gimli politely.

The hobbit gave a wry smile. “I had been hoping to speak with you. Your father was one of the Dwarves who traveled with Bilbo, was he not?”

“Indeed he was, Mr. Grubb,” Gimli answered, wondering what the hobbit wanted to know.

“My grandfather was old Bilbo’s lawyer. He had to deal with all the chaos caused by his disappearance and return,” Grubb chuckled. He had not even been born at the time, but he knew the story well. It had frequently been the topic of conversation at his grandfather’s table.

“Ah, yes! We heard about that from Gandalf, who thought it quite funny, and later, from Bilbo himself at Rivendell. Bilbo most assuredly did *not* think it funny. He was still quite indignant about it, even after nearly sixty years.” Gimli chuckled. He remembered Bilbo’s red-faced outrage at the idea of the Sackville-Bagginses trying to take over his home.

“Yes. The result of all that was to change things in the Shire. It takes a bit more than just vanishing for a year now to declare someone dead.” He thought of what Paladin had done about his son--it had not really been proper. Of course, the Thain was a law unto himself.

Gimli laughed. “That’s a good thing then, considering what my travelling companions did.” He looked again at the lawyer. “And what did you wish to speak to me about then, Mr. Grubb.”

“Oh, probably the usual questions you have heard: how true *were* old Bilbo’s stories? You know generations of hobbits were brought up on them.” Grubb recalled parties, sitting at Bilbo’s feet, and hearing him make up different voices for the trolls who had captured them.

“I have heard some of them. I will say that they are all essentially true, though from what I can gather, Bilbo toned them down a great deal for the sensibilities of children. What actually happened was generally a great deal more dire and frightening than he ever let on. But you hobbits tend to make light of things, anyway.”

“I suspected as much,” said the lawyer with a smile. “So, tell me, did he really--”

______________________________________________________

Targon had been enjoying watching the hobbits as they celebrated. This was far different and more informal than the Ball had been. They were so exuberant and cheerful. He had been impressed with the wedding ceremony as well. Much shorter, and fewer words than a wedding in Gondor would have called for.

Éothain came up alongside him, a bit breathless, after having been drawn into one of the more vigorous circle dances. He laughed. “This minds me of weddings in Rohan!” he exclaimed.

Targon looked surprised at this. He said so.

“Oh there are differences to be sure,” said the young horse-lord, “but very much the same in many ways--ale and food flowing like water, and music and dancing, without a lot of fuss and bother.”

Targon raised an eyebrow. “Will your Lady Éowyn and the Lord Faramir have their wedding in Rohan, or in Gondor?”

“I am sure that they have already had their wedding in Rohan by now, and sorry I am to have missed it; but I believe they will have one of your stuffy Gondorian weddings as well, at mid-summer.”

Targon sighed. “Well, that I shan’t be sorry to miss. Full armor and standing to attention for hours on end, and during the hottest time of the year as well.”

Éothain threw back his head and guffawed. “I think the Shire and Rohan have the right of it!”

Just then, two tweenaged hobbit lasses came up to them giggling, and with much coaxing, drew them both into another dance.

________________________________________________

Marigold had enjoyed several dances with her Tom. She thought, though that it was almost time to lay the food out for another meal. He walked back with her to the kitchen tent, where she found her future mother-in-law already busy.

“Hullo, Lily,” she said “how is it going?”

She heard a sniff.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, concerned to find the redoubtable Lily Cotton in tears.

“Oh,” sniffed the farmer’s wife, “I’m just being a fool. My Rosie’s all married now, and gone, and tomorrow her twin brother will be gone as well, for a whole year.”

“And come Lithe,” said Marigold sadly, “I’m taking your Tom away, as well.” She wrapped her arms around Tom’s mother and gave her a hug.

“Ah, well,” said Lily, wiping her tears with her apron. “You won’t be so very far--” for Tom and his brothers had built a snug cottage for them right there on the Cotton farm. “and it will be nice to have another lass about.”

Marigold laughed. “As if you haven’t had me about, and underfoot all these years anyway.” She felt tears coming herself. “You know, I don’t know what I would have done when Ma died, if it hadn’t been for you.”

Lily laughed, and planted a kiss on Marigold’s brow. “Look at us, weeping away like a fountain. We’d best get on with this--there’ll be hungry hobbit’s a-plenty in no time.”

_______________________________________________________

On the bandstand, the musicians had also been keeping track of the time; it was nearly time to break for tea. They’d finish off their set with the tangle dance, then. Pippin gave Bergil a grin, and put down his pipes. He wasn’t about to miss this; Bergil looked at Anwynd, and gave him his flute. He quite liked this dance as well.

The circle grew and grew. It fell to Merry to lead the tangle. The music began and the hobbits began to dance, interspersed with the taller figures of the Men and Legolas.

Merry led the dance very cleverly, and it was not till nearly the end that they were so tangled they could not move. Just as he planned, he was pinned nose to nose right up against Estella. He took a chance and stole a kiss. Estella grinned up at him and stole one back.

__________________________________________________

The musicians all took a break, and the hobbits made their way to tables once more laden with food and drink. The food would be kept going now, replenished until it grew dark, but in about an hour the music would start up again, and the dancing once more.

Rose and Sam had finally found their chairs once more, and seated side by side just watched for a while. Sam smiled as he saw Merry dance by with Estella, and then Pippin with some tweenaged lass he did not know. Even Mr. Frodo was dancing with his Aunt Esmeralda. He took Rose’s hand and gave it a little kiss.

“Well, Mrs. Gamgee,” he said softly, “did you have a nice wedding?”

“It’s been lovely, Sam,” she answered, smiling at him with her heart in her eyes, “but I wish it to soon be over, so we can finally be alone.”

Sam blushed, and squeezed her hand. “I don’t think it will be too very much longer, Rosie-lass.”

She raised his hand up, and kissed it as well.

__________________________________________________

The Moon was showing his face over the horizon, when Pippin grabbed his pipes at Merry’s signal, and they played and sang the newlyweds down the hill to Bag End. Sam and Rose stopped on the threshold and looked at the gathered crowd, with their dearest friends and kin at the fore. They found Frodo’s eyes, shining like beacons of love. Sam picked Rosie up to the sound of cheering, carried her inside, and closed the door.

___________________________________________________

CHAPTER 71

Freddy, Beri and Jolly were sharing the tent of the Gondorians; Rolly, Denny and Mosco were sharing that of the Rohirrim. Merry and Pippin had chosen to sleep outside by the fire, and right now, Pippin was keeping watch with Borondir. Legolas and Gimli were also sleeping under the stars, though right now they were not asleep. Freddy could hear their voices, low, as they talked quietly by the campfire. He turned his head, and could see Artamir and Adrahil, silent in their blankets on the other side of the tent. Just beyond them was the small form of Bergil, who slept hard, as the young often do.

Tomorrow night, they would do this at Frogmorton, and the next night they would camp just the other side of the Brandywine Bridge. He knew what was keeping him awake. It was his fear of disgracing himself when they crossed the bridge. He wondered why he had offered to do this, but a movement of his hand, and he touched Folco’s flute.

That was why he had to leave the Shire for a while. He had to deal with his grief for Folco.

Especially if he ever wanted to offer Angelica anything like a normal life.

He turned over again. This was ridiculous. He could stay here pretending to sleep. Or he could get up, go outside, and have a pipe.

Pippin and Legolas turned quickly the instant he set foot from the tent, and Borondir already had his hand on his sword. Freddy shook his head, as he padded over to them. “I wish my reflexes had been that swift during the Troubles. Sharkey’s Men might never have caught us and put us in the Lockholes,” he said, speaking softly.

“Can’t sleep?” asked Pippin.

“No. I’m afraid I never really got used to camping, even when I had to.” Freddie’s voice was rueful. He envied Pippin and Merry the hardness and skills they had learned while away. He really had been unprepared for what he had needed to do during the Rebellion. Maybe he’d learn a bit of that himself now, though hopefully there‘d be no need for it ever again.

Merry rolled over; he had not yet gone to sleep either, he’d been listening to his comrades’ quiet voices, and remembering the Quest, the early days, in Hollin, before things had become quite so dire, when they still had Gandalf by their side, and they were all alive and together. He felt a little knot of unaccustomed misery in the pit of his stomach. He knew what the problem was: he didn’t want them to leave.

Especially Legolas and Gimli.

This was ridiculous. He was no seven-year-old, to cry and carry on as though the world were coming to an end because his favorite cousin was abandoning him. With a frustrated sigh he sat up.

Pippin glanced his way. “Are we keeping you awake, Mer?”

“No,” he said, “I’m keeping me awake. I’d rather be talking than sleeping.”

So he sat there also, and took out his pipe. And they talked. They talked of Rivendell and Hollin and Caradhras, but not of Moria. They talked of the Golden Wood, and the great river Anduin, but not of Parth Galen. And they talked of Ents and Fangorn and Helm’s Deep, and a picnic in the ruins of Orthanc, but not of a palantír, nor the Paths of the Dead, nor the Witch-King. And they spoke of Aragorn and Boromir and Gandalf and Éowyn and Théoden and Faramir--but not of Denethor. And sometimes they laughed softly, and sometimes their voices were wistful.

Freddy and Borondir listened, and asked the occasional question. Finally, Borondir looked at the sky.

“It is past time that I wake Leodwald for his watch,” he said, getting stiffly to his feet. No one told him that it was not necessary, since they were all awake. This was the way of things, and it was time for the watch to change. Freddy yawned, and so did Merry. Pippin’s head had begun to droop.

And so all finally sought their rest, save Legolas, who simply sat and looked at the stars, and Leodwald, who came out to take his watch.

________________________________________________

Freddy surprised himself by waking early. Of course, in the small tent, it would have been difficult to sleep anyway, once everyone had begun to stir. He went out to find everyone moving about; at the campfire, Danulf was preparing breakfast: porridge, tea, fruit, bread. It was meager enough by hobbit standards, but quite good enough for a first breakfast.

Knowing they would be traveling now with as many as a dozen hobbits, Targon and Éothain had consulted with Merry, Pippin and Frodo about the best way to deal with the matter of meals.

The truth was, they were going to need a great deal of provender to adequately feed that many hobbits, and there was no way to keep stopping for meals every two hours, or they would never get to Gondor.

Merry had suggested they purchase extra pack ponies, and carry a great deal of extra food; he had also mentioned the idea of storing up on food that could be eaten in the hand, and carried on the saddle for easy access, such things as fruit and bread and dried meat, so that the hobbits could simply snack as they rode. It was a method that Merry and Pippin had used frequently to speed their own journey on the way home, and also when they traveled about the Shire clearing out the ruffians after they had returned home. This would work fine for the delegation and the healers. The prisoners, who would be riding pillion with the Men, would simply have to make do with three meals a day. Pippin felt sorry for them; Merry did not, but there was no practical way to feed them extra.

Of course, before they left the Shire, there was no problem--local hobbits felt honored to gift the visitors with various foodstuffs.

Saradoc had sent a message to Buckland, and extra ponies and provisions had been purchased. They would pick them up at the Brandywine Bridge.

In next to no time the Men had broken camp. They were careful to leave everything as they had found it, even to replacing the turves of grass they had cut away to build the fire.

Soon they were all mounted and ready to set forth. The prisoners were brought forward and placed behind the Men they were riding with. All four of them looked wan and fearful. As before, Merry and Pippin placed themselves at the forefront of the procession. Several other hobbits heading homeward would be joining them for the ride to Frogmorton, which was as far as they planned to go for today. This included Merry’s and Pippin’s parents and Frodo , and Mosco’s father Milo, and Odovocar Bolger-- but not Rosemary and Estella, who would be riding home in a carriage, and had doubtless left already. Rosemary wished to get to Budgeford first, as Paladin, Eglantine and Frodo would be staying with the Bolgers at Brock Hall. Saradoc and Esmeralda would be staying with Milo and Peony in Frogmorton.

Soon they rode down the Hill, and as they did, they were surrounded by crowds of well-wishing local hobbits.

The procession came to the gate where the path led up from the Road to Bag End, and they were surprised to see Sam and Rose standing there, so early in the morning the day after the wedding. But they came forward, greeting Frodo, Merry and Pippin, and the others in turn. Rose stopped by her brother Jolly’s pony, and he reached down to squeeze her hands.

“I’ll be home in a year, Rosie-lass,” he said.

“See that you are, little brother.” This was her tease of him, as she was some five minutes the elder. She kissed his hand.

Their real destination was Arod. Legolas and Gimli dismounted. Sam threw himself against them with a sob, and Rose herself had tears in her eyes.

“I’m that sorry to see you go, Mr. Legolas and Mr. Gimli,” said Sam, finally drawing back and wiping his eyes. “We’ll miss you sorely.”

Gimli squeezed Sam back sturdily and patted him on the back. “I know, laddie, as we will you. But we will return for other visits.”

“See that you do,” said Rose.

Legolas enfolded both the newlyweds in his long arms. “I wish you all the happiness you deserve, mellon nin,” he said. Looking Sam in the eye, the Elf said “Watch out for Frodo, Sam, though I do not need to say it to you of all people. And watch out for yourself as well.” He looked at Rose. “Mistress Rose, I know that you will take good care of our Samwise.” He dropped a kiss on her brow. “I name you also elf-friend, Rose.”

Her eyes widened in wonder, and speechless, she watched the two of them mount once more.

They stood by the gate and waved until the procession had moved out of sight.

___________________________________________________

The ride to Frogmorton did not take too long. They arrived in time for luncheon, and discovered that the local hobbitry had prepared the area for them to set up camp, and had prepared a fine picnic as well.

There was a great deal of booing and hissing as the prisoners were handed down. Ill-feeling ran high in the Frogmorton-Budgeford area against them, as this was where Folco Boffin had been murdered. Lacking Lotho or Sandyman to take out their ire on, these collaborators were considered the next best thing.

Targon ordered a tent erected immediately, for the prisoners to be placed in, so they would be out of sight. As had been the case ever since Clovis had attacked Cado, the older Banks brother was tied and placed away from the other three. Remembering the gag of the day before, he kept his mouth shut. Adrahil and Anwynd drew guard duty.

The rest of the campsite was quickly erected, and the festive luncheon began. Peony Burrows had organized it and she soon had everyone well situated.

Peony sought out Poppy, who was finishing her tea, along with a strawberry tart.

“Poppy,” she said, quietly “are you sure you cannot be persuaded out of this?”

“Perfectly sure, dear. The chance to bring back new healing knowledge to the Shire cannot be passed up. But you know, Mosco did not have to offer to come along and keep an eye on me. I shall do perfectly well among all these strong Men, and with our other hobbits as well.”

Peony shook her head. “You gave my lad the excuse he needed. But he’s craved a bit of excitement ever since he saw Meriadoc and Peregrin toss the ruffians out. He’s eager to see some of the things they saw.”

Poppy laughed ruefully. “Let us hope that he does not see even half the things they saw. Some of their experiences will lay heavily on them for the rest of their lives. But there is no need now to fear that for Mosco; we have a King now, who keeps the peace.”

After the meal ended, Merry decided to escort his aunt, uncle, and Frodo to Brock Hall; Odovocar and Freddy also rode with them. It would give Freddy one more visit with his parents, and Merry another chance to be with Estella.

Merry and Estella had talked with Freddy, and promised not to set their betrothal until he came home. He felt a bit guilty about that, as he could see how much in love they were. But Merry thought that Estella would feel sad if her beloved brother couldn’t be at her side for such an important event in her life. And so even though it made him feel guilty, it also made him feel gratified as well. For he should be sorry to miss it.

Merry pulled Stybba back to fall in alongside Freddy. “Are you going to stay the night with your parents?”

“No,” he answered, “I’ll return to camp after tea, I think. I started last night as I’m meant to go forward. If I spend a night in my own bed, I’m not sure I could be tempted to sleep on the ground again.” He laughed ruefully.

“Are you very worried about crossing the River tomorrow?” Merry asked, concern on his face. He knew that the River had panicked Freddy before.

Freddy nodded. “A bit. But I think that I will skip breakfast in the morning. If I don’t have anything in my stomach, I can’t disgrace myself by losing it.”

“Maybe Poppy can give you a calming draught?”

“No!” Freddy’s tone was sharp. “Sorry. But I had enough of those after--” he took a deep breath “--after Folco. I’d rather suffer the River than have that numb feeling again.”

“I’ll ride with you as we cross.” Merry still felt troubled. The Brandywine was only the first and most familiar of the waters his friend would have to cross over the next few months. He hoped, and believed, that Freddy had the strength to endure it, but he could not help but worry some.

_____________________________________________________

Saradoc had enjoyed his luncheon, and was now sitting with the envoys, talking a bit about the King, and what the embassy could expect at court in Gondor. The Master was amused to hear of some of the formalities of the Gondorian court, when he thought of the things he had heard from his son and his nephew about the King. He thought that much of that would sit ill with the Man who had once been called Strider, though obviously he was up to coping with it. A shame. Being a King did not sound like much fun.

“Master Brandybuck?”

Saradoc was surprised at the familiar voice, and looked up to see old Chico Chubb there. Standing next to him with his eyes on the ground stood Gil Chubb. Well, well, well.

Saradoc stood to face the head of the Chubb clan. “Yes, Chico, how may I help you?”

The elderly hobbit gave a glare to the younger one alongside him. “Gil here has something he wishes to say to you.” He elbowed him sharply.

“Uh, Master Brandybuck, it seems that I spoke out of turn the last time you was here. I--uh--I have to apologize for what I said.” He looked down at his toes, humiliated at being treated like an insolent tweenager.

Saradoc nodded magnanimously. “It seems so, Mr. Chubb. Shall I also convey your apologies to the Thain and the Deputy Mayor?”

“Yes, sir, if you would, sir.” That was a relief. Since Thain Paladin and Frodo Baggins were not here, he was afraid old Cousin Chico was going to make him apologize twice over. He looked up at his cousin, who gave him a nod of dismissal.

Chico gave a little laugh. “I have told him to put a curb on his tongue, and since it will not stay there when it is lubricated, I have also told his cousins to stand him no more ales. He can’t afford to get tipsy very often on his own.”

Saradoc chuckled. As Master of Buckland and head of the Brandybucks, he’d had to take similar measures himself from time to time, and said so. Targon and Éothain stared.

The Gondorian shook his head. “You hobbits are amazing. On the one hand you hardly seem to govern yourselves at all, and yet on the other, you wield even more authority over some things than a king.”

“It’s part of being family,” said Saradoc. “A king, if I understand aright, has some limits as to what he can ask folk to do. A father does not. And the head of the family is the father of the family.”

Saradoc invited Chico to sit with them, and they began to chat once more.

_______________________________________________________

After tea, Merry and Estella were walking in the back garden at Brock Hall. Rosamunda sat on a bench by the door, pretending to read a book.

“Are you going to tell her?” asked Merry.

“That we’ve agree to a betrothal when Fatty comes home?” She nodded. “Do you want to be with me when I do?”

Merry thought of Rosamunda’s sharp and calculating gaze, and quailed inside, but he gamely said, “If you want me too.”

Estella laughed. “Poor Merry! I’ll spare you my mother’s inquisition!”

Just then, Merry heard Freddy calling him. “Are you and your parents coming to see Freddy off in the morning?”

Estella nodded. “It will be our last chance to see him for a year. And it would only be polite to escort our cousins back, as well.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, then.” He lifted her hand, and gave the back of it a kiss, before they headed to join Fredegar.

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No hobbits among the delegation had more studiously ignored the prisoners than Denny and Rolly Banks. The two young hobbits had been quiet, listening to the talk of the other members of the embassy, and they had more or less attached themselves to Berilac, who was familiar to them as Master Brandybuck’s nephew.

Clodio, as the former head of their family, was all too aware of who they were, and why they were a part of all this. That a family of *bridgetenders* would be replacing his line as head of the Bankses was humiliating. But perhaps, knowing them, he could use it to his advantage.

As the brothers strolled past the prisoners, Clodio called out: “You know, you are going to make fools of yourselves among your betters if you do not take my advice!”

The two paused very briefly, their backs stiffened. Rolly’s head almost turned, but Denny gave a pull on his younger brother’s arm, and they moved on.

Clodio smiled. At least he had seen a reaction.

His satisfaction was short lived. Dago elbowed him. “What do you think you’re playing at? Nothing you do is going to erase these Marks on our hands, or get us back to the Shire any sooner. And you’ll never be head of your family again.”

Banks deflated. Bracegirdle was right. Nothing was of any use at all.

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CHAPTER 72

The next morning was overcast. There would likely be a bit of a drizzle before the day was out, but those who were travelling over the Bridge hoped they would reach their destination ahead of the wet weather.

As the hobbits made an inroad on the breakfast provided by the Men, Poppy noticed that Fredegar Bolger had absented himself. She knew that he was a hobbit who liked his meals, most especially since he knew what it was to be deprived of them. Concerned, she sought him out.

“Mr. Bolger--” she began.

“Call me Freddy, please, Mistress Poppy. We are going to be travelling companions.”

“Very well, Freddy,” she said. “Are you well? I noticed that you are not eating breakfast.”

He blushed. “I *am* well. But if I should eat before we cross the Bridge, I very well might *not* be, if you understand me.”

“Ah.” Poppy had seen this a few times. Some hobbits could not endure the sight of the River.

“Before you make the offer, no, I do not wish to take a calming draught. As long as I don’t have anything to bring up, I won’t disgrace myself, and I can endure the fright if I have to.”

“No, I do not recommend a calming draught. But if you would not mind a bit of advice, I suggest that you still eat something light--perhaps a bit of dry toast, and I will give you some ginger and chamomile tea. It is not a calming draught, such as Mistress Lavender prescribed for you upon a time, but it will settle your stomach, and relax you a bit.”

Freddy sighed, and nodded. “Very well, Mistress Poppy.” It did sound like good advice, and if he put nothing at all in his stomach, he was afraid he would soon have a raging headache.

After breakfast, the Men got ready to break camp and mount up. As leader of the delegation of hobbits, Freddy asked Targon what they could do to help.

“I thank you, Master Fredegar, but today we shall do this ourselves. Once we have been on the road a bit, I am sure we will be making use of you to help when it comes to setting up and breaking camp. But we will wait until we have left the Shire.”

A short time later, the Bolger carriage came into view, with Paladin, Eglantine and Frodo trotting alongside. The Burrows also soon joined them, with Saradoc and Esmeralda.

Odovocar, Rosamunda and Estella exited the carriage. Frodo politely handed them all down, and was thanked by gracious bows of the head.

He smiled as he saw Freddy heading in their direction.

“Father, Mother, Estella.” He reached out and was given hugs by his family members. Estella clung to him a bit, sniffling. “I’m going to miss you, Fatty,” she said in a subdued voice.

He patted her on the head. “I’ll miss you too, kitten.” He took out his handkerchief and handed it to her, and then steered her in the direction of Merry, who had come up behind her.

Now it was his mother who was clinging to him. He was surprised at how fierce her grip was around his waist. “Fredegar, please keep safe. I wish that you would not do this,” she wept. It was disconcerting. Rosamunda was not generally demonstrative in her affection. He looked up at his father, who shrugged, looking more than a bit puzzled himself.

“Mother, you know that I need to do this. I need to get away from the Shire for a while. And I will be doing some good for our people.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll take every care. We have some good strong Men who will take care of us.”

“Oh, son! Be sure to eat well, and to stay warm. And stay with the Men you are familiar with--don’t go around strange ones! And don’t wear yourself out looking out for all these other hobbits!” She glared past him at some of the other members of the delegation, as though they were to blame for Fredegar’s departure. Mosco was engaged in his own farewells to his parents and siblings, and Poppy was looking on.

“Mother!” he exclaimed reproachfully, slightly amused. If it had been anyone but his own mother, he’d have been offended.

Odovocar drew his wife gently back, and she did not resist. He reached forward for one last hug before Freddy mounted.

“Take care, son. Write if you can.”

“Yes, Father. I will see you all in a year.”

He moved forward into the procession of ponies and horses. Berilac moved up to ride beside him, and the rest of the delegation fell in behind. Merry and Pippin at the front, this time acting as standard bearers for Rohan and Gondor, began to lead the group out along the Road. There was a chorus of cheers and farewells following them from the hobbits assembled to see them off.

The threatening clouds began to burn off as the morning progressed. They rode quietly once they had left sight of Frogmorton. The Men were feeling a bit sad at their departure of the Shire--they had enjoyed their time among the hobbits. The hobbits of the delegation were feeling nervous as they began to realize how soon they would be leaving all they knew. The prisoners were very subdued, feeling more and more fearful as the consequences of their actions were coming to pass.

Legolas and Gimli had moved Arod up to ride between Merry and Pippin, and so had Frodo ridden up to the front as well. This time they did not talk or banter, or reminisce about the Quest. They simply rode quietly, satisfied to be in one another’s company for a while longer. All of them were thinking of those friends who were *not* there: Boromir, Aragorn, Gandalf, Sam.

They soon passed through Whitfurrow, to a cheering crowd of hobbits lining the road on either side.

Fredegar wondered how many of those hobbits actually understood what the Men’s mission had been, or what their own mission would be as they left the Shire. Most of them, no doubt, were simply glad to see a spectacle. They remembered a few weeks earlier, when the Men had brought the gifts from the King, and some, no doubt had heard rumors of the weregild from Sharkey--no, Saruman, Freddy thought, he would have to get used to that other name.

Once Whitfurrow was behind them, Merry and Pippin picked up the pace a bit, and the hobbits following found they had to concentrate on their riding. Of course, the pace was still slow for the Men, whose horses were longer limbed.

It was drawing near to luncheon, and Fredegar was beginning to think that dry toast and tea would not hold him, when the Brandywine Bridge came in sight. The procession pulled up for a few moments, and Merry dropped back to speak to Targon. A few moments later the Gondorian envoy rode up to Fredegar.

“Master Fredegar, Sir Meriadoc has indicated that he would like you to ride at the front, alongside him.”

“Thank you.” Freddy had thought Merry forgot his promise; he should have known better. Merry never forgot anything, especially a promise.

They approached the Bridge, and he heard Merry murmur to him, “Steady, just look straight ahead.”

Freddy could hear the roar of the waters as they passed below, the clop clop of the horses and ponies; he could smell the water, feel the blood draining from his face; he took a deep breath and focused on the trees and the Road on the other side. His stomach gave a bit of a lurch, but he swallowed his bile, and kept moving.

“Good, good,” said Merry quietly. “We are almost to the other side. Take a deep breath.”

Freddy became aware that Pippin was on his other side, with Legolas and Gimli, and Frodo behind him. The sound of the hooves began to change from hollow to solid. They were across. He swayed very slightly, and took another deep breath. He felt the world settle around him.

He looked at Merry. “Thank you.”

“You did it.” Merry looked at him fondly. Freddy had a lot more courage than he ever gave himself credit for.

“Will it be like that every time I cross a river?” he asked a bit plaintively.

“It should get a bit easier over time. Of course, you’d forget all about your fear of the water if you had a bunch of Orcs chasing you across the Bridge,” he grinned.

Freddy gave a weak chuckle. “No thank you. That cure sounds worse than the malady.”

The procession angled off the Road to the north, right to the same spot that the Men had encamped at first. A large group of local hobbits had prepared a picnic luncheon, much as the hobbits of Frogmorton had done the day before.

Saradoc and Esmeralda dismounted, as did Merry and Berilac, going to greet Merimac, who waited there with a small contingent of hobbits from Brandy Hall. Bergil was delighted to see some of the friends he had made during his first visit, including Seredic and Celandine.

Targon came up to Freddy. “Master Fredegar,” he said, “we will take two hours for luncheon before departing.” For the group had decided not to camp another night on the borders of the Shire, but to continue their journey east until sunset. The Gondorian captain wished to reach Bree before the end of the week, in the hopes of catching the King’s Messenger there.

Everyone dismounted, glad for the break, and for the chance to eat. Mistress Poppy came over to check on Freddy.

“Seems like you did well there, lad,” she said. “If I had not already known about it, I would never have guessed your panic.” This was a slight exaggeration, but the stout little healer felt he deserved the praise for overcoming his fear.

Freddy grinned. “I’m well and truly hungry now,” he said, “and ready for a lot more than a bit of toast and tea!”

“I would imagine so!” She grinned at him.

The prisoners were removed from the horses and placed in the Bridge gatehouse, with Leodwald to see that they got a meal. Now that they had left the Shire, Targon had decided that it would be necessary to bind them, at least when they were not on horseback.

Freddy noticed that Berilac was looking a bit lost. He had managed to somewhat avoid his father and the Brandy Hall hobbits.

“What’s wrong, Beri?” Freddy was going to rely a lot on the Brandybuck, who had been made second in charge after him, and he wanted to make sure that there were no difficulties.

“Just trying to get up my nerve for saying ‘good-bye’,” he laughed ruefully. “It hadn’t hit me until we crossed the Bridge, that I am really leaving everyone behind. I’m not sure my father is happy with my going.”

“No parent would be. You saw the scene my mother made this morning. But spend some time with your family before we go; you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

“Thank you, Freddy, I guess I will.” He moved purposefully to the spot where Merimac was eating his lunch with Saradoc and Esmeralda.

Merry, Pippin and Frodo were spending a last bit of time with Legolas and Gimli. The mood was a bit melancholy, as they prepared to say good-by.

Frodo got up after a short while and wandered off a bit by himself. After a few minutes, Merry made to go after him, but Legolas stayed him. “Let me, please, Merry!” the Elf whispered.

Merry looked surprised, but nodded.

“Frodo,” said the Elf.

Frodo did not turn, but said, “How do you fight it, Legolas?”

“Everyday, I tell myself there are those from whom I will not be parted as long as they yet linger in Middle-earth.” He sighed. “I am the stubborn son of Thranduil. I will not let it conquer me.” He placed a hand on Frodo’s shoulder. “And how do you fight it?”

“I do not know. Arwen’s jewel has eased me of some of my troubles, but it is a constant reminder that it is possible the Shire is not for me. I do not want to believe that, but every time I have to use it to ease my terrors, the sea-longing returns.” He turned tear filled eyes up to the one Companion of the Fellowship who truly understood what he meant.

“I have no answers, Frodo; my own struggle is ultimately futile. But know that you are always in my thoughts and in my heart, and that I know with the blessing of the Valar, you will someday find your own answer.”

“Thank you, Legolas.” He turned to give the Elf a hug. Truly, it was so hard to say good-by, and he sensed that he would not be seeing Legolas again.

Merry looked over in concern. Something was eating at Frodo, more than just the pains and nightmares the Ring had bequeathed him. He’d not be able to dig it out of his cousin, and with a sigh, he realized that he’d not be able to dig it out of Legolas either. Perhaps he could puzzle it out on his own.

The time came all too soon when Targon gave the signal that it was time to leave. Suddenly the tears began to flow, and the good-byes grew a bit desperate.

Bergil clung to Pippin until the second he had to mount his pony. “Oh Sir Pippin, I’m going to miss you so!”

Pippin returned the hug, patting the lad’s back. “Keep in touch, my honorary cousin. Don’t forget that the King’s Messenger will be making regular trips to Bree.”

“Perhaps when I grow up, I can be such a Messenger. Then I will have a good excuse to see you every month.”

Pippin chuckled. “Perhaps. Off you go now, lad. Give my love and greetings to your father, and to Faramir and the King.”

Borondir and Anwynd took charge of the standards, and the procession began to move eastward down the Great Road, the hobbit members of the party turning often to wave at those they left behind.

The others stood, watching, until all were gone from sight, and then they moved on themselves, to Crickhollow and Brandy Hall and home.

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