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

UP THE WITHYWINDLE

CHAPTER 1

Meriadoc Brandybuck was sitting on the front step of his little house at Crickhollow enjoying his morning pipe, basking in the Forelithe sun, and thinking about a bit of second breakfast. Pippin was still asleep, the slug-a-bed. Maybe the smell of toast and sausage might rouse him.

Just then Merry heard a slight sound at the end of the walk. For a brief instant he tensed and his hand sought the sword that was no longer at his side. Then his hobbit-sense asserted itself; no threat was here. Just a good neighbor.

“Ho, there, Mr. Maggot! What brings you across the River today?”

“Well, Mr. Merry, I did stop over at Brandy Hall for to speak with your father about the coming harvest, but really, it was you I wanted a word with.”

“Me?” Merry laughed. “I promise I’ve not been trespassing after your mushrooms again!”

The old farmer’s eyes twinkled. “Aye, Mr. Merry, that I know. No, I’ve a bit of a message for you from a mutual acquaintance, as you might say.”

Merry chuckled. “You will have to narrow that down a bit. We have a great many mutual acquaintances.”

“Well, this one is a cheerful chap with a quaint way of speaking. Usually wears a blue jacket and yellow boots--”

“Old Tom Bombadil!” Merry’s exclamation of surprise was echoed by a familiar voice behind him. He turned to see his cousin Pippin standing in the doorway, still pulling up his braces.

“Aye!” grinned the farmer. “Old Tom Bombadil. He wanted me to tell you this: seeing as how you and your friends are back home from furrin places, he’d not mind the chance to see all of you again. If you and your friends are a-wishing to visit, he will meet you in the Bonfire Glade on the first of the Lithedays. He said to tell you that it might bring a bit of cheer to one who is weary and sad.”

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Sam closed the door to Bag End and glanced at the two letters in his hand.

“Mr. Frodo, the post has been. Look here, we’ve both got letters from Crickhollow.” He stepped from the hall to the front room, where Frodo sat listlessly in a chair pretending to read. Sam knew that he was pretending, as he’d not seen a page turn over in nearly half an hour.

“Mr. Frodo?”

“Oh. Sorry, Sam, I heard you. Well, let’s see what Merry and Pippin want, shall we?” He took his letter from Sam, who then sat down on the chair opposite, to open his own missive.

“Well, what do you know! Mr. Frodo--we’ve been invited to visit old Tom Bombadil along with Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin!”

Frodo glanced up from his own letter, and his face lit briefly into a smile as he recalled that strange creature who was their first encounter beyond the borders of the Shire. Old Tom, Master of himself--even the Ring had no dominion over him. The light went out. The passivity returned.

Sam’s mind worked like lightning. In the last few years, he had learned to read his master better and more quickly than any book. He couldn’t be let to turn down this invitation--he needed to be taken out of himself, he did. Well, Sam knew how to handle it.

Putting just the right amount of enthusiasm into his voice: “They want us to come for the Lithedays. That’s great! Rosie and her mum are taking Elanor to Michel Delving to visit with her great-grandmother all that week. Oh, ’twill be fine to see Old Tom again! Won’t it Mr. Frodo?” He locked eyes with Frodo, looking as innocent as possible.

Frodo, no fool, knew what was up. If he turned down the invitation, Sam, who obviously did want to go, would also refuse, thereby making his master feel guilty for depriving him. And really, would it be so awful to go with his cousins to see Old Tom Bombadil and his Lady Goldberry? It was just that it was so much effort. Not any more effort, though, than telling Sam ’no’. He looked at Sam’s expectant face.

“Blackmail…” muttered Frodo.

“What’s that, sir?” Sam asked, though he’d heard it perfectly well.

“I said ’yes’, Sam. Yes. It will be fine.”

Thus it was that a few days later, Frodo and Sam found themselves at Crickhollow. The two had made it an easy trip by pony, stopping over at inns along the way. Still, Frodo was weary from the journey, and retired soon after the four had shared an early supper.

Merry, Pippin and Sam sat about the table still, picking at the remains of the meal, “filling up the corners” in hobbit-fashion. Of course, as soon as he was no longer in the room, Frodo became the topic of conversation.

“Well, Sam,” said Pippin, playing briefly with a piece of cheese before popping it into his mouth “How is he doing?”

“Right *now*,” Sam replied with emphasis, “well enough. But he seems to have lost what little interest he had in anything; the only thing ever seems to perk him up any at all is Elanor. He’s been going downhill ever since spring.”

Frodo thought he had pulled the wool over his friends’ eyes during his last illness in Rethe, though it was his worst bout yet; he never realized that they were keeping watch over him secretly. But it had been very difficult; they had each had their own ghosts haunting them during that same time. Rethe was a very bad time for all of them. At one point, Merry had been as ill as Frodo, making Pippin and Sam frantic. It had not helped that Rosie was due to deliver Elanor at almost the same time. But somehow they had managed.

Merry shook his head sadly. He knew that Pippin and Sam had hoped being at home would somehow bring back the Frodo they had known before the Quest, but he’d not ever had much hope of that. Merry’s only hope was that somehow his cousin’s good days would eventually outnumber the bad; now that did not look likely either. Frodo had gone downhill rapidly after each of his anniversary illnesses.

“I’m not sure what prompted old Tom Bombadil to give us an invitation at this time, but he seemed to indicate that it would do Frodo some good; it certainly can’t hurt anything,” he said.

“Well, I hope you’re right.” answered Sam. “I can’t say as I’m looking forward to going through the Old Forest, but you said in your letter that it might help Mr. Frodo, and if it does, it would be worth it, even if it is a bit uncomfortable.”

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CHAPTER 2

It was a warm and bright summer morning, quite early, when they set out for the Old Forest. Merry was riding Stybba, Pippin was on Sable, and Sam on Bill. Frodo rode Pybba, the sturdy little gelding from Rohan, his gift from his cousin on Merry’s last birthday. Though Merry and Pippin usually traveled in armor and livery, today they just wore hobbit garments, though they had their swords. They had decided it was just too hot for armor.

Merry dismounted and took out the key to the gate in the Hedge. Saradoc had not been happy when Merry had asked him for it, but he did not gainsay him. Merry was an adult now for some years. But his father was still a bit apprehensive, remembering the last time his son had entered the Old Forest. This time all he said was “Be careful, and don’t be a year coming back.”

They rode slowly through the tunnel in the Hedge, and Merry dismounted to open the iron gate at the end. They passed through, and shut it behind them. None of them could forbear remembering the last time they had done so. Sam gave a shudder.

Turning, they looked across the hollow, and the path leading to the eaves of the Old Forest. It looked somehow different than last time.

They mounted, and rode silently up the path, but as they came beneath the trees, it did not seem to vanish as it had the last time they were there. Instead, the path seemed straighter, wider, and less difficult than it had been.

“Am I just remembering wrong, Mr. Merry, or does this place seem more cheerful than it used to?” asked Sam in wonder.

“I do believe so, Sam. The trees do not have that angry feeling as they used to, nor does it seem as stuffy and dark.”

Pippin was looking around. “The trees almost seem friendly. I thought maybe it was just that this forest seemed lighter after having been in Fangorn, but I do think it really does feel differently.”

Frodo did not speak, but gazed about him, feeling his spirits quietly lift.

Without the hostility of the trees to hinder them, it took them very little time to make their way to the Bonfire Glade, and it was as good a place as any to take out the provisions for elevenses. They dismounted and sat themselves down to enjoy the meal.

Merry looked around in mild disbelief. “I’m not taking anything for granted, in spite of how friendly it all seems. Don’t anyone lean against the trees or fall asleep.” But even as he spoke his words of caution, he did not really believe that they would be necessary.

But Pippin was walking about the edges of the glade, eyeing the trees speculatively.

Merry and Frodo looked at him in alarm. “No!” they both said at the same time.

Pippin looked back at them innocently. “I didn’t say anything,” he said in an aggrieved tone.

Frodo raised one brow. “Of course you didn’t. We know that gleam in your eye by now.”

Merry looked at him firmly. “You are not climbing any of those trees!”

“Oh well, it was just a thought. Do we have any cheese with us?”

The four hobbits ate contentedly, chatting in hobbit fashion. Soon they heard the faint sound of a cheerful voice getting louder as it came towards them.  

Hey dol! Merry dol! Ring a dong dillo!
Ho! Tom! Jolly Tom! Tom Bombadillo!
Bright blue his jacket is, and his boots are yellow
Old Tom Bombadil, he is a clever fellow!
All along under trees, the forest path he’s taking
 To bold and sturdy hobbit-lads, good friends a-waiting…”

He burst into the clearing, skipping and dancing, in his battered old hat with blue feather waving, stomping in his yellow boots, and his brown beard wagging.

The hobbits greeted Tom eagerly, glad to see his cheerful face.

He stepped back, grinning, and put one hand each on top of Merry’s and Pippin’s heads. “Ho, now, my hearty lads, what have you been drinking?” He laughed. “So tall you’ve grown and sturdy! The leaf-light in your eyes a-twinkling.”

“Ent-draughts, Tom” said Pippin.

“We met with Treebeard in Fangorn Forest,” added Merry.

“Ent-draughts, indeed,” laughed Tom. “My eyes did not deceive me. So you have met the old Tree-herd, and gone with him a-walking.”

He looked at Sam, who had a hand on Bill’s bridle. “And you, I see have found again this friend who’d gone a-wandering.”

“My Bill?” asked Sam. “He came here? You sent him to Butterbur?”

Tom grinned and nodded, giving the pony an affectionate slap on the rump. Then he turned and looked at Frodo, and his whole demeanor changed.

“Frodo.” He looked him in the eye, and Frodo felt all the ages of the world in his gaze. “Have you cast away all your burden?”

And Frodo solemnly and carefully replied, “The Ring is gone, Master, destroyed.”

Tom Bombadil nodded, and there was sorrow in his eyes, now. Frodo knew then that what he had not said had been understood.

Tom clapped his hands and whistled, and in a few seconds, his pony Fatty Lumpkin came trotting up the path, tossing his head and giving every appearance of a grin on his pony face.

He vaulted onto the pony’s back with amazing agility for one of his bulk. “Come now, my little lads, Goldberry is waiting. Up the Withywindle is the path we will be taking.” And he trotted quickly off, leaving the hobbits to scramble on their own ponies and race after him.

“Tom,” asked Merry, after they had been riding for a time, listening all the while to his cheerful nonsense singing, “why is the Old Forest so much nicer now? Is it because the Dark Lord is gone?”

“The Forest is as the Forest is. Hobbits who come timid and fearful waken sleeping malice. Hobbits who are bold and brave bring no darkness with them. And hobbits who have taken Ent-draughts are quick to see the difference; as do the trees a-watching them and waiting for their moment.” He laughed, and began again his singing, and quickly Pippin joined in, followed soon by Merry and Sam, and finally even Frodo.

They made a jolly company through the forest wending.

CHAPTER 3

The first time they had gone to the house of Tom Bombadil, it had been in the fall, near dusk. Tom had gone ahead to light the house, and left them to follow along behind. But today in the bright summer afternoon, Tom rode with them, as they followed the path up the Withywindle.

Soon they came to the low rise near a small waterfall; they could see the swift river merrily singing among the summer rushes beneath the brilliant summer sky. A grassy sward stretched before them, dotted here and there with flowers, and the well-tended path led up the grassy knoll, down slightly, and then on up a small hill, atop which stood a low and welcoming stone house, its windows wide and its thatch gleaming like gold.

As they approached, singing gladly, they heard a sweet voice join in, and Goldberry appeared in the open doorway:

Now let the song begin! Let us sing together
  Of sun, stars, moon and mist, rain and cloudy weather,
  Light on the budding leaf, dew on the feather,
  Wind on the open hill, bells on the heather,
  Reeds by the shady pool, lilies on the water:
  Old Tom Bombadil and the River-daughter!*

The lady welcomed them over the wide stone threshold, bending to give each of them a fond embrace as they entered. Tom had gone to stable the ponies.

“Enter, dear guests, and welcome back!” she said, laughing in delight.

The four bowed politely, hobbit fashion, and Frodo said “Fair Lady Goldberry! Thank you for your welcome; long it is since we have seen the lovely River-woman’s daughter!”

She laughed. “And you are as fair-spoken as ever, Frodo Baggins of the Shire!” She bade the hobbits to be seated, and she took up a basket of fresh rushes she must have just gathered and carried it from the room. They could hear Tom’s singing faintly coming from behind the house, and her voice also joining in from elsewhere.

In only a few moments Tom came in, just as Goldberry returned to the room. “My fair Goldberry!” he cried, taking her hands in his. “Here’s my lovely lady, clad in summer yellow and with daisies in her hair! Have you greeted our hungry hobbit lads?”

“Indeed,” she laughed. “I thought on so fair and long a summer day, it would be well to take our meal outdoors beside the River.” She pointed to a laden hamper that stood beside the door. “Perhaps our guests would like to refresh themselves before we set forth?”

“Oh excellent Goldberry!” Tom exclaimed, “We shall celebrate the Mid-year thus!”

He led the hobbits down the passage to the little guest room they had shared once before. It was all prepared for them, with the low mattresses set out, and the washbasins ready. The stone room was cool, and the water in the ewers scented with summer herbs.

“When you have washed the stains of travel all away, come down to the Riverside where we shall both await you. We shall have some toothsome fare there to set before you.” Tom went out and left them.

“Oh my!” Pippin heaved a happy sigh. “I had almost forgotten what excellent hosts they are.” He poured some of the water into a washbasin and plunged his face and hands right in.

Frodo, Merry and Sam soon followed his example.

“Well, this is a right treat,” said Sam. “I’m glad we decided to come.”

“Indeed,” said Frodo, “so am I.”

Merry was pleased to see Frodo looked more relaxed and content than he had seen him in months. He and Sam exchanged a satisfied look.

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The four friends soon took themselves back down the path to the Riverside, where they saw Tom and Goldberry had spread snowy white cloths upon the grassy sward, and from the hamper had produced a feast of white bread and fresh butter and honeycomb. There were strawberries almost as large as apples, and a large salad of young greens and vegetables freshly picked, a platter of red tomatoes sliced and dressed with herbs and soft fresh cheese, and many other good things to tempt a hobbit’s appetite.

Again they had the fresh, cool water to drink, that seemed to affect them like honey-mead. Even as it set his head to spinning, Merry thought to ask:

“Tom, is this like Ent-draughts?”

Tom Bombadil laughed heartily. “As well to ask, ‘are Ent-draughts like this?’ It is not quite the same, yet very like indeed. But you will grow no more inches from Tom’s brewing I daresay.”

Pippin, already in a jolly mood, laughed even more at this. “It is as well. I do not like to think of having to order another new bed when I get home!”

The hobbits lay upon the soft grass when they had done with their eating, and half dozed as they listened to Tom and Goldberry softly singing.

After a while they began to stir. Merry and Pippin soon got up and began to frolic in the grass like children. Goldberry arose after watching them for a time. She gave a merry laugh and chased them toward the River. Before they knew what happened they had plunged in clothes and all, and she followed laughing. The three played and swam like young otters, Goldberry in nowise hampered by her gown, which seemed in some way to have become part of her as she entered the water.

Sam got up and wandered over to some flowers he had noticed, that were different than any others he had known.

Tom looked at Frodo keenly. “I had a long visit from a friend of yours when you returned.”

“Gandalf.”

“Yes. He feared for you.”

“I know.”

“Tell me.” said Tom. And Frodo soon found himself recounting the Quest in a way that he had never done before. He had told some parts of it, from time to time, skimping on details, and concentrating on the actual events, while keeping all he had thought and felt and suffered tightly to himself. A few who knew him well had guessed some of it, yet it was never information freely offered. But now he told Tom all; it flowed from him effortlessly, as though he did not even have to think to speak.

As he drew to a close, Tom nodded. “I see now why Gandalf fears for you, yet there is some strength left yet that even he has not credited.”

“Do you think so, Tom?” whispered Frodo. “I do not think that I shall live through another illness.”

“That is true.”

Frodo looked up to where his cousins played in the water, and at Sam, who now stood near the bank, watching and laughing.

“I should not mind so much for myself. But--”

“You think to spare them.”

“Yes.”

Tom reached over and placed a finger upon the Queen’s Elven-jewel around his neck. “Then you know what you will do.”

“Yes.”

“Do not fear for your dear ones. There are still those who will watch out for them.”

Frodo looked at Tom hopefully. “Thank you.”

As the Sun finally began her setting, Tom laid a fire upon a large flat rock. They ate some more from the hamper, and lay about in the grass as Tom told them story after story; the sparks from the fire mingled with the glittering of stars reflected in the river, while the music of the water filled their ears. The Moon had risen high before they all made their way back up the path to the house.

The hobbits went contented and tired to their beds, and this time none of them were troubled with dreams.

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*From The Fellowship of the Ring, Book 1, Chapter 7, “The Old Forest”

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CHAPTER 4

They spent several days in the house of Tom Bombadil. In the mornings, they helped Goldberry in the large garden, filled with vegetables and herbs, or they roamed about with Tom through the forest as he visited badgers in their holes or foxes in their dens, and he pointed out to them the wonders of the wood. One morning Tom took them in a small boat to visit otters and beavers. He teased and taunted the haughty swans as they sailed by. The afternoons and evenings they spent much as they had the first night, picnicking and playing and swimming. After the first couple of days, Frodo too joined in the water fun, and only Sam was left to stand on the bank and watch.

The third day, as Sam stood there watching rather wistfully as Frodo and his cousins splashed and dove, Goldberry arose from the water in front of him. It seemed that she shot straight up out of the River like a fountain.

“Little gardener, why do you only stand and watch?” she asked gently.

“I can’t swim, Lady Goldberry, and I’m mortal a-feared of drowning. Mr. Frodo, he’s asked to teach me many times, but I just can’t seem to do it.”

She laughed. “Are you afraid of me?” she asked, holding out her two hands.

“Never!” And he found himself placing his hands in hers.

Slowly and carefully she led him into the water. Supporting his head and knees, she taught him how to float upon his back, and to control his breathing. After a while he began to relax at the unaccustomed feeling of cool water supporting his back and the warm sun upon his face.

For learning to swim there could never be a better teacher than the River-woman’s daughter, and in a few hours, he had gained enough confidence to swim a few strokes on his own, and had no fear when his face went beneath the water.

Frodo, Merry and Pippin had stopped their play to watch in amazement. They had coaxed and wheedled Sam for years, and never got him into the water.

After a few days of lessons, he felt confident enough to venture out to where the other hobbits were. He did not care to join in the rougher play, but was content with floating on the surface of the water. They were very careful not to disturb him.

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They were not sure how long they had stayed, but thought that it must have been a couple of weeks, when they awakened one morning with the knowledge that it was time to go home.

Tom and Goldberry seemed to know of their decision without being told.

“I see our hobbit-lads for home now are pining,” said Tom as they came to breakfast.

“Yes,” said Frodo, “I think that it is time for leave-taking.”

“Ah,” said Tom, “but come the spring-time, when Tom and the River-daughter go down to the withy-path to bathe in the water, then perhaps our hobbit friends can find their way back to us. Here they can find rest and respite from ill memory.”

Frodo looked at Tom; he knew that the invitation was not for him, but for his dear ones, who would next year be left to suffer through Rethe without him. He said only “Thank you.”

Tom and Merry went to ready the ponies, while Sam and Pippin gathered up their belongings. Frodo stood with Goldberry by the path.

“Farewell, my fair Lady Goldberry,” he said, with a touch of the old heaviness returning.

“Farewell, dear Elf-friend, wherever you fare, even over the Sundering Sea.” And she bent and placed a gentle kiss, like a benediction, on his brow. His heart lifted once more, and he gazed at her in wonder.

Merry and Tom returned with the ponies, and Sam and Pippin came out with their packs. They mounted, and rode off, turning back often to wave at their hosts, and call out farewells. South and west they rode, down the Withywindle, to the place where it found the Brandywine and home.