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

A DIFFERENT KIND OF QUEST

CHAPTER 1

On a bright spring morning near the end of Thrimidge, as such things would have been reckoned in the Shire, in the enclosed garden of a large and lovely house in the sixth circle of Minas Tirith, two hobbits sat on a bench beneath a tree.

One of them, clad in the green and white livery of Rohan was stretched out full length at a diagonal, head leaning on the tree, furry toes just barely touching the ground. His arms were folded on his chest, and there was a fierce scowl on his face.

The other, dressed in the sable and silver of Gondor, was the picture of dejection. His posture was bowed forward, elbows on his knees, hands folded beneath his chin, and eyes half-closed in his sorrowful countenance.

“I want to go home,” he said mournfully.

“I know, Pip,” said the other. He meant to be encouraging, but it came out rather flat.

“I miss the Shire, Merry.”

“So do I.” Merry pursed his lips and bumped his head crossly against the tree.

“I miss my mother and my sisters. I even miss my father, though he’ll probably lock me in my room and throw away the key.” Pippin’s voice was gloomy and resigned. He felt tears threaten, and was miserable enough not to care.

“Probably.” Merry had no illusions about his Uncle Paladin’s temper.

“I surely thought Strider would say we could go home now when Frodo asked about it yesterday. I truly did. I couldn’t believe he said ‘no’, not after everything we have done.” Pippin felt a bit resentful, as well as sad. They had done more than anyone could have expected hobbits to do. Frodo and Sam had destroyed the Ring, Merry had helped to slay the Witch-King, and even he had done some worthwhile things in the War. It ought to count for something.

Merry sighed. “Gandalf said the King was waiting for a sign. He didn’t say what.” He bumped his head against the tree again, and they lapsed back into gloomy silence. A sign! They could be stuck here in this City for years if he were waiting for a sign!

Two figures, one tall and fair, the other short and stocky, watched from a balcony of the house.

“It breaks my heart to see them thus,” said Legolas.

“It’s unnatural, is what it is,” answered Gimli gruffly. “These two always jest and make light of their troubles. Even when they are half-dead.” Especially when they were half-dead. For them to succumb so to a bout of homesickness was not right.

“They are at loose ends. They are both off-duty today. And they are homesick.” Legolas sighed. He felt a bit homesick himself, cooped up in this vast city of stone, where there were so few things green and growing to be found.

“Aye,” Gimli nodded, “and Aragorn telling them they could not go home yet disheartened them all. Where are Frodo and Sam this morning?”

“Aragorn and Faramir summoned Frodo to the Citadel early to consult him about something. Sam has gone up to the Houses of Healing to learn of cultivating some of the healing herbs they grow here. And he is going to find out whether or not athelas can be grown from seed.”

Once more they looked down at the forlorn figures in the garden below. The Elf straightened up. “Come, Gimli, let us see if we can cheer them up.”

“It’s not like we’ve anything else to do today, lad,” agreed the Dwarf. They turned to make their way through the house and down to the garden.

Soon enough the Elf and the Dwarf stood before their small comrades.

“Good morning, Merry and Pippin,” said Legolas, crouching down next to them. Gimli grunted a greeting and sat down on the other end of the bench.

Merry fought down the urge to say “What’s good about it?” and muttered a brief “Hullo.”

“What’s good about it?” said Pippin sullenly.

Merry moaned. A Pippin miserable enough to be rude to his friends was a miserable Pip indeed. Besides, he’d thought of it first.

Pippin looked abashed as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, Legolas. That was unkind.”

Legolas laughed. “It’s a fair question: what is good about this morning? Well, for one thing, I am hale. Are you hale, Gimli?”

Gimli snorted, and made a show of considering. “Aye, I do believe I am hale. Not as hale as some days, but more hale than on others, I would say. Yes, I am quite hale all the same.” His eyes twinkled, and he waggled his eyebrows at the hobbits.

Pippin couldn’t help it. He giggled. And in spite of his efforts to maintain his scowl, Merry found himself smiling.

“Yes. Well. We, too, are hale,” he said. “So are Frodo and Sam. The Sun is in Her place, the Enemy is defeated and the King has returned--”

“And we want to go *home*!” said Pippin firmly. He did not look so much mournful at this as determined. Merry’s scowl re-appeared.

“Ah,” Legolas met Gimli’s eyes, and decided to change tactics. “My friends, I am quite sure you *will* be allowed to go soon. But surely there are *some* things you wish to do here in Minas Tirith that you have yet to accomplish?”

The two young hobbits looked thoughtful for a moment. Merry pursed his lips and gazed off into the distance. After a moment he spoke. “Do you suppose there is anyplace here in the City I could buy a spyglass?”

The Elf and Dwarf looked at one another in mild surprise. Legolas shrugged, but Gimli nodded. “Yes, Master Meriadoc, I would say there are more than a few places here where such a purchase would be possible. I myself know of one such, right now.”

Pippin looked excited. “You mean for your father? Oh, Uncle Sara would be so surprised!”

Merry nodded. “And I wouldn’t mind getting something for Mum as well,” he grinned.

“Gifts!” exclaimed Pippin. “I could get gifts for my family as well! I’ve not spent a single silver piece of my stipend yet!” His face lit up at the thought.

Within a few minutes, the four of them were on their way down to the fourth circle of the City, where there were many shops that sold luxury items to the wealthy and influential who lived above. These shops had been evacuated and boarded up long before the Siege, and their valuable inventories spirited away and hidden. Now that the War was over, the merchants and craftsmen had returned to re-open their shops. Yet custom remained slow. The levels below were far more damaged, and though there was plenty of coin to be had, it was spent more on the necessities of life, such as food, clothing and the needed materials of repair which for some were more dear than jewels and silks. However since the King had returned the merchants were hopeful. A King meant a court, and a court meant courtiers, eager to make an impression.

As the four friends made their way through the streets of the sixth circle, Legolas gave Merry a curious look.

“Meriadoc,” said the Elf, “if you do not mind my asking, why a spyglass? Will that have some special significance for your father?”

Merry and Pippin looked at one another with wry grins. “You could say that!” answered Merry. “My Da had a spyglass. It was lovely one of Dwarven make, brass, it was, in three sections that nested together to make it longer or shorter. He had it of my grandfather Rory, who had it of my Great-Grandfather Gorbadoc, who had it as a birthday gift from his dear friend Isengar Took--”

“Who--” Pippin put in “was my great-great-uncle, who went to sea in his youth and--”

“Well, he was my great-great-uncle, too, on Mum’s side, and--”

“My dear hobbits!” interrupted Gimli. “Do not, I pray you, get off the subject. You were telling us of this marvelous Dwarven spyglass.”

“Yes,” laughed Legolas. “Please do not give us any more genealogy lessons.”

“Yes. Well.” Merry looked abashed. He sometimes forgot that Legolas and Gimli were not fellow hobbits. “At any rate, that spyglass was one of Da’s favorite things. Sometimes he’d take it out of its place in his desk and use it to watch the birds through his large study window. When I was about fourteen, he started to share it with me. I was never allowed to touch it unless he was with me. He taught me a lot about birds that summer. Then a few weeks before Midsummer, Pip and his family came to visit. Pip was six, and though you’d never think it now to look at him--” Merry cast a sideways look at his cousin and smirked, “--he used to be a cute little tyke.”

“Oi!” said Pippin indignantly, aiming a playful swat to the back of Merry’s head. “Cousins!” he muttered with irritation.

“Ow!” Merry rubbed the back of his head, but kept his smirk. “Anyway, for some reason I was taken with the creature, and allowed him to follow me around everywhere I went. Kind of like the tail on a puppy--” this time he ducked the swat and Pippin laughed. “Well, I go in one morning to see Da, and he’s watching a pair of warblers. Of course he offers me a look, and I take it. I start to hand it back and Pip gives me his poor, pitiful, pleading look--not a word, mind you, but I knew what he wanted. So he’s getting me to do his begging for him. ‘Da!’ say I, ‘Please can Pippin have a turn?’

‘No, son,’ he says, ‘I don’t think his little hands can handle it’.” Merry stopped. They had reached the fifth circle. “Which way, Gimli?”

“This way.” The Dwarf turned left, and Elf and hobbits followed.

“So anyway, I’m begging and Pip is giving my father the same look he gave me.”

Pippin turned around and began to walk backwards, facing his friends. He ducked his head and looked up through his lashes, making his green eyes very wide, as he puckered his lower lip, and it trembled a bit. For just a brief instant, he did look just like a six-year-old on the verge of tears. Then he gave a roguish grin and turned back around. The others all burst out into laughter, including Merry, who had seen some variation of that look almost every day he had ever spent in his cousin’s company, and *still* was taken in by it.

“See?” he said, still chuckling. “My poor father never stood a chance. Da says ‘Very well. Come here, Pippin-lad,’ and he puts Pippin by the window--his chin barely comes up to the sill--and he hands him the spyglass. Pip takes a look and gives out with a gasp--”

“I can remember it, you know,” said Pippin. “It was so amazing. Suddenly it seemed as though I had been instantly transported far outside. I’ve never seen anything like it before or since.”

Merry took up his tale again. “He looks for a few seconds, and his little hands start to tremble, and the next thing you know, he’s dropped it.”

Merry sighed before continuing. “If it had just fallen to the floor, it probably would have suffered no worse than a dent in the casing. But I panic, and lunge for it. Instead of catching it, I send it flying. It crashes into the corner of Da’s desk. The lenses are broken and that’s the end of it. Pip and I both burst out crying, and I think Da felt like it, but all he said was ‘Ah, lads, it was only an accident, after all, and the fault mine for letting you have it in the first place, Pippin’. I was even more upset than I would have been if he had been angry. I promised him that someday I would get him a new one.”

The friends had now entered the fourth circle of the City.

Merry shook his head sadly. “I’d no idea how hard it would be. There was no such thing to be had in the Shire. For a couple of years, every time a merchant came from Bree, I would pester them. Finally one of them took pity on a poor little hobbit-lad, and told me how dear it would be, even if one could be found. I was crushed. In despair, I took all the coppers I had been saving and blew the lot on sweets. Pip and I shared them out, which gave me a belly-ache, and had him bouncing off the walls and chattering non-stop for three days.”

Legolas and Gimli chuckled, and Pippin looked indignant. “Merry!” he said reproachfully.

“Sorry, but you know how you get when you eat too many sweets! Well, after that I started saving up again, with the idea that I’d be able to get it for his gift at my coming-of -age birthday. I was so sure that I could do it. I enlisted Frodo’s help, and he wrote to every Dwarf that Bilbo knew. But we had no luck and few answers, and I ended up getting him a pocket-watch at the last minute.”

Merry sighed; his eyes glittered for a moment, and he blinked. Pippin put his arm around his cousin’s shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. Legolas laid a comforting hand on Merry’s back.

But Gimli grinned. “Master Merry, I do believe your long search is at an end. We near the shop of Girion son of Gerolt, a Man of Dale, who in his youth was apprenticed to a Dwarf, Nuri son of Nain. If he himself has no such spyglass, he will know who in the City does!”

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CHAPTER 2

They came to a small building of white stone, like nearly every other building in the City. Unlike most of the shops, this one had no windows on the street level floor. There was a discrete sign by the door reading “Girion son of Gerolt: Clocks, Watches, Fine Mechanisms”.

Inside the shop were shelves holding clocks of every description, as well as marvelous toys and other gadgets. Along one wall were several tall cabinets, held closed by sturdy locks.

In the center of the room was a long work table lit from above by a large hanging lamp. A stocky, clean-shaven Man with a shock of unruly white hair sat on a stool behind the table, using a lens and a pair of tweezers on some work he was doing. He did not look up at first, saying “Just one moment while I finish this.” He made some sort of adjustment with the tweezers and then looked up. His face broke into a wide smile.

“Master Gimli! How are you?”

“I’m doing well, Master Girion. Allow me to introduce my companions, Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood, and Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, Hobbits of the Shire.”

The Man bowed. “Your Highness,” he said to Legolas,” and “Sir Meriadoc and Sir Peregrin.”

The four looked a bit put out. Girion chuckled. “You did not need to tell me. I am a Man of Dale; of course I know of Prince Legolas Thranduilion. And there are only four pheriannath in the City, and you two are in livery.”

They laughed a bit ruefully. Sometimes it would be nice *not* to be recognized. Merry and Pippin looked at one another. They were off-duty today; they probably should not have worn their livery. But then they might have been mistaken for Frodo and Sam.

“Did you come to visit, or is this a business call?” asked the Man.

“Oh, it is business, all right,” said Gimli. “Young Meriadoc here is looking for a spyglass.”

Girion’s face lit up. “Why, you *have* come to the right place! I happen to have three of them on hand. One of them is my own work, the other two taken in trade.” he walked over to one of the shelves and took down a tray on which lay three of them. The first looked very much like the long-lost gift of Isengar, and made Merry’s eyes sting; the other two had wood casings, one of light wood, the other of dark.

Gimli looked over Merry’s shoulder, and Girion moved away, knowing that Gimli could advise his friend as to the best choice.

The craftsman turned to look at the other two, who were examining some of the items on the shelves. Legolas looked a bit bemused. Elves were not much for mechanical things, but he was trying to understand their appeal to the others. Pippin was craning his neck back, trying to see something on the upper shelves.

“Master Girion, might I see the oliphaunt more clearly, please?”

“Certainly, Sir Peregrin.” Girion reached up and lifted it down. It was a foot high, and was obviously supposed to be a baby animal, for it had had no tusks and it had impossibly large eyes with long lashes, and improbably large ears as well. There was a key in its back, which he turned. Placing it on the floor the creature began to walk, also bobbing its head and opening and closing its eyes. Pippin laughed delightedly.

“Look, Legolas!”

The Elf glanced down and smiled. It was an attractive toy, and more appealing, certainly, than the full-sized mûmakil he had seen on the battlefield.

Pippin’s grin faded. “I was thinking about getting it for my niece Flora. She’ll soon be a faunt--that is, three years old and beginning to talk and walk. I think she would like it except--”

“Except what, Pippin” asked Legolas.

“Well, it’s so large. It is nearly as large as she will be, if not larger. It might frighten her.”

“Ah,” said Master Girion He moved down the room, and reached up to another shelf where a similar toy resided. He took it down. It was about half the size of the first one, and had a blanket painted on its back in a pattern of bright pink and purple stripes.

“Oh!” exclaimed Pippin, green eyes shining. “It’s perfect! Flora will love it!” He picked up the toy and held it possessively. He could just imagine Flora’s delight. Alyssum, now, her baby sister--he’d better find something soft and cuddly for her. She was still just an infant.

Girion glanced over to where Merry and Gimli were discussing the spyglass.

“But Gimli, this one looks just like the one I broke!” Merry softly rubbed the brass with one finger.

“Aye, lad,” said the Dwarf patiently, “but the lenses have not nearly the quality of this one,” and he took up the one with the dark wood casing.

“Here, look through the brass one.”

Merry picked it up, and obediently placed it to his eye, looking through the open door of the shop to across the street. “Goodness! I had forgot how strange it seems to have something far away suddenly seem so near!”

Gimli chuckled. Then he handed him the one he had chosen. “Now look through this one.”

“Oh, Gimli, you are right! This one *is* far better! Why, it’s as clear as if there were no glass at all, and everything seems much closer!”

“You see, Meriadoc,” said the Dwarf “the first one very likely is just like the one your father had before. It is a seaman’s spyglass, such as are very common on ships. It would explain how your great-uncle--”

“Great-great,” corrected Merry absently.

Gimli just shook his head. “It would explain how he came by it. But I would venture to guess that *this* spyglass is the work of our Master Girion, here, and it is of very high quality.”

Merry grinned. “Very well, Gimli. I’d not even have known I could find one without your help. I shall certainly take your advice.” He looked over to where Pippin and Legolas were playing with the oliphaunt. “What have you got there, Pip?” he asked.

Pippin looked up at him, eyes shining. “A homecoming gift for little Flora, don’t you think?”

“Are you going to let *her* play with it?” Merry teased, thankful that he was across the room from any swats.

Master Girion looked pleased. If others knew that the pheriannath had patronized his shop, he would be overwhelmed with custom. “Is there anything else I can help you with, small sirs?”

Pippin nodded. “I think I would also like to find a pocketwatch for my father. He loves clocks and watches.”

Girion went over to the tall cabinets, and unlocked one. He took out a case with several watches, and brought them to Pippin for viewing. The young Took looked briefly, and pointed: “That one,” he said decisively. The chosen one was gold, inlaid with silver vines and leaves, with a space in the center for the engraving of an initial or monogram. “I’d like the Tookish monogram engraved on it, please.” Girion offered Pippin a quill and parchment, and he drew the monogram, a “T” and a “K” joined, in the form of script used in the Western tongue.*

“Very well, Sir Peregrin. It should be ready for you in about three days.”

Merry looked at Girion. He still had to find a gift for his mother, and Pippin’s stipend was about twice what his was. “How much do I owe you for the spyglass, Master Girion?”

“Oh, Sir Meriadoc! I would not dream of charging you! You are one of the Heroes of the War! Please, I would wish that you and Sir Peregrin accept these from me without charge!” After all, thought Girion, once word got out that they had patronized him, it would more than pay the cost of the items.

Merry and Pippin looked at one another in dismay. Aragorn had told them to allow the people of the City to show their gratitude for all the hobbits had done, and so they had taken their share of free ale, and of food, and the occasional trinket from a grateful wife or mother, glad that her loved one had come home in one piece. But this was another matter altogether.

“But these are to be gifts!” cried Pippin, distressed.

“Please, Master Girion, we really should pay for these!” added Merry.

Girion was taken aback. Truly these pheriannath were strange ones! One would think they would be glad to get such wonderful items for free! He did not understand. But he could charge them a token price. “Perhaps two silver pence apiece?”

Unfortunately, this resulted in both his potential customers looking offended. Now he was dismayed, unsure what he had done wrong, and fearful of their leaving without their purchases. A hint of panic showed on his kindly face.

Gimli sighed. “Meriadoc, Peregrin, perhaps you would allow me to help you negotiate a fair price?”

The two hobbits nodded in relief. While they wanted to pay a fair price for the gifts they were buying, they were unsure of the value of things in this strange land.

Gimli knew what Girion had in mind, and didn’t blame him as a merchant, but he knew his hobbit friends would not understand, and they truly wished to pay for the gifts they were giving to their loved ones. He also understood that the value of these things would be high, but not nearly as high as they would have been before the War, when they would have been in more demand. In the end, he negotiated a price of twelve silver pennies for Merry’s spyglass, and thirty for Pippin’s choices, for both the toy and the pocketwatch.

Master Girion took out his handkerchief and mopped his brow in relief as they gave him a partial payment, agreeing to the rest when they picked up their purchases in three days. Merry wished to have an inscription on his father’s spyglass, but Gimli offered to do that for him. However, he did not wish to carry it about the City as they finished their shopping, lest this one also get broken.

“Is there aught else I can do for you?” asked the craftsman.

“I don’t think so,” said Merry. “I hoped to find a gift for my mother, but you don’t seem to have any jewelry here.”

Pippin nodded. He had his mother and three sisters to find gifts for, as well as two brothers-in-law, and his other niece.

“Ah,” smiled Girion, “in that case, may I recommend the shop of my friend, Master Valdacar? It is two shops down, to the left. He is a well-respected jeweler, and his wares are quite popular with the ladies.”

When they entered the shop, which was much like that of the clockmaker, save that it had fewer open shelves, and more locked cabinets, they saw the proprietor was speaking with a customer. In the corner of the room, a little girl was playing with a doll. She was a cute child with long dark curls.

Merry and Pippin glanced in her direction. “How old do you suppose she is, Pip?” asked Merry. He was sometimes confused about the ages of Man-children, finding them to often be much younger than he supposed.

Pippin looked at her. “I would think about six or seven years old,” he said. “After all, Bergil is ten, and he looks much older than she.”

Legolas was glancing at the open shelves, and the pieces displayed there. He did not think his friends would find what they were looking for here.

“Very well, milady,” the shop owner was saying. “I shall have the clasp of your bracelet repaired by the end of this week, as well as the new charm.”

“Thank you, Master Valdacar. I will return then.” She turned to leave, giving a curious look to the others as she did so. Suddenly her eyes widened as she realized who they were--why that was the Ernil i Pheriannath and one of his kin, and the Elf and Dwarf who were close friends to King Elessar. Wait till she told her friends that she had seen them!

Master Valdacar noticed her reaction and smiled to himself.

Again, it was Gimli who made the introductions. He presented his friends, and then said, “Master Valdacar, you were recommended to us by Master Girion. My friends Meriadoc and Peregrin are looking to find gifts.”

“Ah,” he smiled. “And have you sweethearts at home, then?”

They shook their heads. “I am looking to find something for my mother,” said Merry. “I would very much like to find something with an emerald. Her name, you see, is ’Esmeralda’, and she has green eyes.”

“And I would like something special for my mother, as well, and for my three older sisters,” put in Pippin.

“I have some things with emeralds, Sir Meriadoc.” He went to one of the locked cabinets, and unlocking it drew forth a tray. He bent down to show it to Merry.

Merry gave a deep sigh of disappointment. None of these pieces were right for his mother. For one thing, they were all far too large. He said so.

“Describe your mother for me,” said the jeweler.

Merry glanced over at the lass in the corner, singing to her doll. “Who is the child?” he asked.

“That is my grand-daughter, Niriel,” he said, puzzled at the change of subject. “She is seven years old.”

Merry nodded. Pip had been right. “My mother is about the same size as your grand-daughter, Master Valdacar. She’s a very beautiful hobbitess; she looks a lot like my cousin here--” Pip glanced up at this. He had been studying the bracelet that lay upon the work table. “--only prettier. I had hoped to maybe get her a necklace or something.” He looked again at the tray. There was a very nice emerald pendant there, but it was sized for a Woman. It would have fit around his mother’s waist, he supposed.

Valdacar’s face fell. It looked as though he might lose the halfling’s custom. He had no jewelry sized for children, and even had he done so, anything designed for a child that small would be inappropriate for a matron.

Legolas stepped forward. “Excuse me, but I wonder, Master Valdacar, if you happen to do custom work?”

“Why yes, Master Legolas, I do indeed!” Not being from Dale, he had not recognized Legolas’s rank, and no one wished to inform him. Legolas never had really understood the emphasis mortals placed on his princely status, but it often made him uncomfortable.

The Elf looked at Merry. “There is your solution, Merry. You can get exactly what you want for your mother that way!”

“But I’m no jewelry designer!”

Legolas turned to the jeweler. “If you could bring me implements for drawing, then perhaps the two of us could come up with something satisfactory?”

Valdacar nodded, and turned to fetch parchment and drawing tools.

Pippin turned to him. “I think I’d like that as well. Could you tell me about this bracelet?”

Valdacar looked at it. “Those are very popular with mothers and grandmothers. Each gem represents a child or grandchild. The gems are for their birth month, and hang like charms from the bracelet.” Pippin nodded; he had thought so. He’d overheard Ioreth and some of the other women at the Houses of Healing talk about these bracelets, how the women who had gone south out of the City had brought back this fashion.

Merry looked at Pippin. He could see his cousin’s mind was working, so he left it to him and went over to where Legolas had seated himself at the work table, with a bit of parchment in front of him. “First, Merry, what kind of a chain do you wish?”

The two were soon deep in discussion, as the silver tipped stylus Legolas was using flew over the parchment. Valdacar came near and glanced over the Elf’s shoulder at the sketch. Why that would be lovely! And he could easily make it to the size of his grand-daughter’s neck. This could work!

When Legolas had finished the sketch, Merry, Gimli and Master Valdacar went to look at some unset emeralds for the pendant, while Pippin took his place by Legolas. “My sisters are easy enough,” he said. “I think earrings--Pearl is the easiest, and then if we could make some like flowers, for Pimpernel and Pervinca. And then have matching charms for the bracelet for Mother. I’d like a charm to be me, also. But I’m not quite sure what--”

Merry had been listening. “That’s easy, Pip. Your name, just like for theirs.”

“An apple?” He looked at Merry incredulously.

“No, you silly goose, not your nickname. Your *name*: Peregrin--a falcon.”

Legolas smiled widely. His fingers flew over the page, and he turned it to Pippin to see.

“Oh,” said Pippin in a small voice. “That’s perfect!” he whispered.

Merry turned to Gimli. “Have we narrowed it down, yet, Gimli?”

The Dwarf held out three nice emeralds for Merry’s inspection. “All of these are flawless, Meriadoc, and you could not go wrong with any of them. The choice is yours.”

Merry looked at them. One of them was square, one round, and the third was oval. He placed his finger on it. “That one, I think,” he said. “Yes, the oval.”

After a bit more discussion with the jeweler, the subject of price came up. As with Girion, Valdacar also wanted to give the items to the hobbits.

“Truly, young sirs, simply your presence in my shop will increase my custom many-fold, and it would mean a lot to me to do such a thing for two such valiant heroes.”

Merry and Pippin sighed. How many times were they going to have to go through this? Once more, Gimli began to negotiate, trying to make sure that at least the craftsman would not be taking a loss on the gems and precious metals he used, as well as to have something for his labor. He was much harder to convince than Master Girion had been. Finally, he agreed to take the cost of the materials, and to charge for his labor when the pieces were completed, and he knew how much time they had taken. It was agreed that they would return in two weeks to receive the finished jewelry.

“If I should finish with them sooner, I will send a messenger to you,” he said. He looked at the sketches. He would not charge them much for the labor, whatever it took. These lovely Elven designs were worth it, just for the chance to make them. And the ladies of Minas Tirith would be so impressed.

Gimli was grumbling as they left the shop. “This is absurd. Having to force people to take pay for their goods. No Dwarf should have to be so humiliated by haggling backwards like that!”

His companions all burst into laughter. They decided to make a brief stop at one of the taverns for some refreshment, before returning to the guesthouse.

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* My assumption is that the letters would be tinco and calma in a somewhat modified form of the Tengwar, as all letters in Middle-earth derive from Elven. However, it’s possible they might have been letters of Daeron’s Runes.

CHAPTER 3

Three days later, Merry and Pippin returned to Master Girion’s shop. Legolas did not accompany them this time, being closeted with Faramir to discuss the settling of Elves in Ithilien, but Frodo and Sam went along .

Sam had been delighted by the idea of the mechanical oliphaunt. Frodo had been curious to see the spyglass Merry had finally found for his father.

He well remembered Merry coming to him, shortly after turning thirty-one, and asking for his help in the quest for the spyglass. Merry had, over the years, managed to save up nearly twenty silver pennies, which was what the merchant from Bree had said it might cost him. The two cousins had thought that with nearly two years to seek, that they surely would be able to find one. Frodo had written to several of the Dwarves Bilbo had known. They had provided many of Bilbo’s more extravagant gifts over the years. A few had answered the letters, more from the pleasure of corresponding with Bilbo’s heir than with an answer to his query, although both Dwalin and Nori had given him the names of some merchants who might have been able to help. However, it had proven fruitless. At least *now* he knew why Balin, Ori and Oin had not answered his letters.

Frodo had no way to write to Bilbo; though he had the occasional letter *from* his elderly cousin by way of various travellers to the Shire, Bilbo was always very careful never to hint of his whereabouts. The only person he could trust with a letter *to* Bilbo was Gandalf. But it had been four years since had seen the wizard, and had he but known, it would be another five until he saw him again. Frodo sighed. Life had been so much easier when his worst problem was trying to find a spyglass for his cousin.

With Gimli in the lead, the friends soon came to Master Girion’s shop. When they entered a couple were being waited upon by the craftsman, but as soon as he saw them, he excused himself to the man and woman.

“Sir Meriadoc and Sir Peregrin!” he exclaimed. “How good it is to see you again!” He turned to Frodo and Sam, and his eyes widened. “Ringbearers! My shop is honored by your presence!” He bowed deeply. “Girion son of Gerolt at your service!”

Sam and Frodo both blushed deeply, but Frodo’s ingrained good manners took over. “Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee of the Shire at your service, Master Girion.” He could not return the man’s bow, by Aragorn’s command, but he gave a polite nod of the head. “Please, finish attending your other customers first.”

The man and woman, at first annoyed when Girion had abandoned them, had lost their annoyance as soon as they realized they were in the presence of the famous pheriannath who had saved the City.

Girion nodded politely, and returned to the other customers, soon finishing with their business of paying for the repair of a clock, and ushered them out. He knew that they would soon be spreading the word that the Ringbearers and the little halfling Knights were patrons of his shop.

He went over to one of the locked cabinets, and opening it with a key, he took out Merry’s and Pippin’s purchases.

Pippin took hold of the oliphaunt and turning the key, set it down to walk across the floor. “See there, Sam! What did I tell you?”

“You’re right, Mr. Pippin, that toy is a caution! Why any little fauntling would love that. Your little niece is a lucky lass!” He turned his grin to Frodo, who smiled to see it. “Look at that, Mr. Frodo!”

Frodo nodded. “Pippin, I think you will spoil Flora! She is going to expect such marvels from you all the time!”

Pippin just grinned and picked up the toy. “Master Girion, did you finish the engraving on the pocketwatch?”

“Yes, Sir Peregrin, I did.” He took the pocketwatch from the tray and held it forth. Pippin was quite satisfied with the engraving, and said so.

“Sir Meriadoc,” said Girion, “here is your spyglass.”

Merry took it, and handed it to Frodo. Frodo was touched that Merry wanted him to see it first. He looked through, and examined it, giving his cousin the opinion that it was a very fine spyglass indeed.

“Gimli’s going to put an inscription on it for me,” said Merry.

Gimli, who had been standing back and observing, looked up at the sound of his name. “Indeed. Master Girion, if I could have the use of your table and tools for a few moments?”

While Gimli was working on the inscription, the four hobbits decided to wander about the street a bit, and look at some of the other shops.

A few doors down, they found a shop that had numerous items made of beautifully carved oliphaunt tusk. “Look, Frodo!” exclaimed Pippin. “There’s a flute almost like the one you gave to Folco for your birthday!”

Merry laughed. “Looks like Fatty and I are going to owe Folco an apology! We never believed that it really was made from an oliphaunt’s tooth!”

Frodo stopped for a moment to look admiringly at a carved penholder and matching inkwell, before moving on with a shake of his head. Pippin took note. Frodo had stubbornly refused to allow Aragorn to gift him with any sort of stipend or allowance, and Sam had followed his master’s example, so the two of them actually had no money. Pip knew that if Frodo so much as hinted that he liked it, the shop owner would insist on gifting it to him, but he also knew that it would embarrass Frodo to death. He looked up and caught Merry’s eye. Merry nodded. They’d come back and get that set for Frodo the first chance they had.

At another jewelry shop, not so exclusive as Master Valdacar’s, Pippin found a couple of silver watch fobs for his brothers-in-law. He was fond of them, but he did not know them well, so the gifts for them were a bit less personal.

“Well,” he said, “all I have to do now is find something for little Alyssum. I wonder if there is a shop that sells stuffed toys?”

The jeweler happened to hear. “Sir Peregrin, I do not know of a shop that sells such things, but on the third level there lives a widow who makes them and sells them for pin money.” Pippin was very interested, and so the merchant gave him the directions to find Mistress Ivorwen.

They decided to save that errand for another day, and so returned to Girion’s shop, where Gimli had just finished putting the inscription on the spyglass. The Dwarf smiled and held it out for Merry’s inspection. It read: “To my father and friend. M.B.”

“Just as you asked, Master Merry,” said the Dwarf.

Merry gave Gimli a hug, which caused the Dwarf to blush behind his beard and sputter. “It’s perfect Gimli,” he said in a slightly choked voice. He could not believe that after all these years, he was finally going to be able to keep his long ago promise!

Master Girion promised to have everything boxed up securely, so that there would be no breakage, and delivered to them in the guesthouse, so the friends were able to make their way home unencumbered.

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A few days later, Frodo and Sam went to spend the morning at the Hall of Records, where Frodo hoped to find some information that could be used to help with Bilbo’s writings in the account of the Kingdom of the South.

Merry and Pippin decided to take the opportunity to return to the ivory carver and get the pen-and-inkwell set Frodo had admired, as well as to go down to the third circle and find the Widow Ivorwen. Pippin had great hopes of finding a gift for Alyssum from her. Legolas alone came with them, for Gimli was meeting with some of the stonecutters that Aragorn had working to repair the lowest level.

They decided to go first to the widow’s home, and began the trek down to the third level. Along the way, they discussed various ways of getting Frodo to take the gift they were getting today.

“Face it, Pip,” said Merry, “if we give it to him while we’re still here in the City, he is quite capable of ordering us to return it. We’re going to have to take it back home with us and hope to find an occasion to give it to him there in the Shire.”

Pippin sighed. “You’re right, Mer. But I do wish he’d take it now. I’d love to see his face!”

“I wish he’d get over being so stubborn, and accept a stipend from Aragorn. It’s been explained to him over and over that he’s attached to the court while he’s here, and so is entitled to it.”

“Perhaps,” said Legolas, “you could get him to take it for Sam’s sake, for Sam will not take one either, as long as Frodo will not. And Sam could also be appealed to in the same way, I think. If Sam were to indicate there is some purchase he‘d like to make, but cannot--”

With a whoop, Merry and Pippin gave Legolas a hug, right in the middle of the street. “Legolas, you’re brilliant!” exclaimed Merry.

The Elf gave them an indulgent smile and shook his head as he returned the hug. He’d never get over how quickly and easily the hobbits, especially these two young ones, would share their emotions.

Soon they found themselves in the third circle, and following the directions given them by Master Valdacar, made their way to the small shabby shop of a minor fabric merchant. There they stopped, as they had been told, to inquire.

“Y-yes, my lords!” exclaimed the proprietor. “My cousin’s widow. She has rooms upstairs in this shop. She uses the small remnants which I cannot sell in order to make her small poppets.”

He watched them ascend the staircase, his eyes huge. Three of the Companions of the Ringbearer, in his shop!

They found themselves ushered into a small room, clean, but in obvious need of repair. It was well illumined by two south facing windows. On a bench to the left of the door was piled a heap of the toys which the old widow made. A small bed, a table and a chair completed her furnishings. The table was scattered with the materials and implements of her work.

Mistress Ivorwen was amazed at these gentlefolk seeking her out. She had not known her little toys would be so famous. She handled the introductions with aplomb, however, and listened to Pippin explain what he needed.

“My niece will not even be two years old when we return, she’s still a babe in arms. But I’d like to find something soft she can cuddle when she sleeps.”

“Well, your lordship, please look through all that I have,” she pointed to the pile on the bench, “and find what you think that she would love.”

The three went over to the pile of dolls of every description--babies and ladies and jesters and children, and animals enough for a menagerie. There were puppies and kittens and bunnies and bears and various other creatures. The three friends began to go through them. Most were discarded as being too large for the tiny hobbit baby.

Legolas looked at one doll with an exclamation. Merry and Pippin looked at his find--a doll with large hairy feet and small pointy ears, obviously meant to be one of the pheriannath. They managed with some effort to control their faces, and their laughter, so as not to hurt the widow’s feelings.

They had managed to make a pile of somewhat smaller toys now, and as they looked through, Pippin grabbed one. “Look at this one!”

It was a lamb, with a sweet embroidered face, and wool made of loops of white yarn. It was tightly stuffed and well-made, as indeed all the widow’s handiwork had been. She had embroidered it with green eyes.

Merry laughed. “Oh, Pip, that’s perfect! A Tookish lamb!”

Pippin turned to her and asked the price, dreading her saying that she didn’t want his money. Gimli wasn’t here to haggle with her.

But she was too humble to understand that which had motivated the grander merchants. “Well, your lordship, I generally get three coppers apiece for most of them, but as that one's so small, would two be too great a price?” she asked diffidently.

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The three companions made their way carefully down the staircase, Legolas with a rather large bag slung over his back, Merry and Pippin cumbered with somewhat smaller ones, and Pippin with a small parcel containing the little lamb.

“I know the poor woman could use the coin,” said the Elf, “but what are we going to do with these toys?”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t have bought them all,” said Merry. It had been clear that she could use the money.

“Well,” said Pippin with a grin, “it’s hardly our fault that all we have is silver, and she couldn’t change the coins.” Five silver pennies had bought not only the lamb, but everything else as well. He sat on a step halfway down the staircase. “I do have an idea. They have put aside a house on the grounds of the Houses of Healing for the children orphaned by the War. I would imagine they could find a use for these.”

“Yes,” said Merry, “that’s a grand idea, but if we have to drag these all the way up to the second circle, we’re not going to be able to stop and shop on the way.”

Legolas gave a nod. “I have the solution.”

They went into the fabric shop, and Legolas begged of the merchant a parchment and quill. “Good sir,” said the Elf politely, “do you think that you could hire a couple of Men to deliver this note and these bags to the Houses of Healing?” A few coins changed hands, and the bargain was struck. Legolas gave him the note, which was to Mistress Ioreth, telling her of the toys and their intended destination.

They made a brief stop at the ivory carvers, and Frodo’s gift in hand, found their way back to the guesthouse.

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It was not quite a week later when they received a message from Master Valdacar, telling them that the jewelry they had commissioned was completed. They decided to wait until the following morning to go down, as Pippin had guard duty that afternoon, and Merry had promised to spend a bit of time with Éowyn and Faramir.

Gandalf had vanished on some mysterious errand the day before and had yet to return; Frodo indicated that he wished to stay at the house and do some writing. So the next morning it was Sam, Legolas and Gimli who accompanied the two young knights on their errand. Merry and Pippin were rather glad of this, for it was their first chance to speak to Sam about their idea for getting Frodo to accept a stipend.

“Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin, I was up to the Houses of Healing the other day and all anyone could talk about was that gift of toys you sent up to the orphans. That was right nice of you.”

Pippin laughed. “Bergil told me. He said that now we needed to find some things for the boys, as those were all toys for the girls and babies!”

Merry grinned. “We’ll have to keep that in mind. But you know Sam, we didn’t really plan it that way--we just ended up buying more toys than we had a use for.”

Sam smiled rather wistfully. “Your nieces are going to be lucky little lasses, Mr. Pippin. I can just think how their little faces will light up.” There was a slightly sad note to his voice, and Merry thought this might be the perfect time to bring up the idea.

“You know, Sam, if you would accept the King’s allowance, you could get gifts for your family as well.”

“Not to mention Rosie Cotton,” added Pippin slyly.

Sam shook his head. “Not so long as Mr. Frodo don’t take one. It wouldn’t be right.”

Merry looked at Sam. “Does Frodo know that you would like to get gifts? Does he know that you could use the money?”

“No. I don’t want him to feel bad.”

Pippin laughed. “But that’s just the thing; sometimes he needs to feel bad for his own good!”

Legolas smothered a snort. He and Gimli were trying to ignore this conversation, as he knew it was a business best left to the hobbits.

“I don’t understand, Mr. Pippin. That don’t make no sense!” Sam was a bit indignant.

“Of course it makes sense, Sam,” said Merry. “You won’t take a stipend because Frodo won’t. But if he thinks that you *need* one, *then* he will take it, so that you will.”

Sam mulled it over. After a minute he smiled. “Aye, you have the right of it! And I happen to know he’d probably like a bit of coin himself, if he weren’t too proud to say so. It goes hard to him, everywhere we go, folks giving him things. I think he‘d like the idea of paying.”

“Good. Then next time you see him, just mention some of the things you wish you could get for your family, but not taking the King’s money, you can’t. It should solve the problem soon enough.” Merry’s tone was decisive. He knew that they had Sam now, and pretty soon, Frodo would take what was due him.

Soon they entered Master Valdacar’s shop. He had been expecting them, and had the jewelry ready for their inspection.

First he brought out the necklace for Esmeralda.

The chain consisted of tiny niphredil blossoms, joined by even tinier square links of gold. The oval emerald hung as a pendant, set in silver, and reflecting the light in sparks of green. The clasp was of golden leaves. Merry gasped when he saw it.

“Master Valdacar, that is perfect!” He could just imagine this hanging on his mother’s neck, setting off the reddish highlights in her chestnut curls, the emerald very nearly the same color as her eyes.

Next the jeweler brought forth the earrings he had made for Pippin’s sisters.

For the two younger sisters he had their namesake flowers, wrought in gold and bright enamel, while for Pearl of course, there was a pair of perfectly matched teardrop pearls in an exquisite silver setting.

Finally, Master Valdacar held up the bracelet he had made for Eglantine.

The links were gold and silver entwined, the clasp a golden leaf with silver veins. Dangling from the bracelet were four charms. Three of them matched his sister’s earrings, save that the flowers were set with colored jewels rather than enamel. The fourth charm was an exquisitely fashioned little peregrine falcon of silver, wings spread, talons outstretched, as though swooping throught the sky.

Tears sprang to Pippin’s eyes, and he reached out a finger to touch the little bird. “This is beautiful,” he whispered. “I am sure my mother will love this.”

The jeweler took the gifts up, and carefully placed them into small carved boxes that he kept for such a purpose. The hobbits left it to Gimli to negotiate the final payment.

They haggled just a bit, but soon agreed. Gimli was certain that the jeweler had undervalued his work, but he believed the Man’s protestations that the privilege of making them was very nearly payment enough. He had seen the love and care that had been put into the work; the beauty of the finished pieces was testimony to that.

Before they left the shop, Master Valdacar spoke up hesitantly. “Master Legolas, would you very much mind if I adapted your designs for the use of my other customers?”

Legolas looked at the hobbits. “Merry and Pippin, would you mind very much if the ladies of Gondor had jewelry like that which you got for your mothers?”

The hobbits were in fact delighted with the notion, and said so. Arms laden, they returned to the guesthouse.

They were surprised on their arrival to find Gandalf and the King waiting for them, talking to Frodo.

“My friends,” said Aragorn, with a gentle smile, “I think you will be pleased to know that one of the signs I have been waiting for has come to pass: we have planted a sapling of the White Tree in the Courtyard of the Fountain. I expect the other thing that I await to come to pass very soon indeed.”

With a yell of joy, the hobbits engulfed the King, nearly knocking him down with their enthusiasm.

Home.

Soon.

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EPILOGUE

It was just a little over a month later, after the wedding of Elessar and Arwen, that Frodo began to pack the last of his possessions for the journey home. With a smile, he fondled the package that he was preparing to stow.

He was glad now that he had relented and allowed Aragorn to give him an allowance. Sam had found some fine gifts for his family, and for Rose. And Gandalf had assured him they would be in Rivendell in time for his and Bilbo’s birthday.

Five fine pipes, elaborately carved, of oliphaunt ivory, for his cousins, Sam, Gandalf and Bilbo. It was a shame, though, that they had already sold the pen and inkwell set. He would not have minded having that.