Stories of Arda - Lord of the Rings Fan-Fiction Archive

In this AU universe, begun in the story “Quarantined” and continued in “By Chance or Purpose”, “Reflections of the Past”, “Estel’s Birthday”, and “Comfort and Joy”, Aragorn, Bilbo, Frodo, and Sam first met when Frodo was 22. They strongly bonded and became fast friends in a very short period of time, during a serious illness and subsequent adventure. A few years after the events in “Quarantined”, Aragorn also meets three-year-old Pippin (“Estel’s Birthday”). I know that in “By Chance or Purpose” Aragorn meets Merry and Pippin for the first time when the hobbits arrive in Bree, but... oh well. This is a very flexible universe!

Distances: According to The Atlas of Middle-earth, Brandy Hall in Buckland is about 60 miles from Bag End; Crickhollow is 3 miles from Brandy Hall; and the Hedge (the border between Buckland and the Old Forest) is just over a mile from Crickhollow.

DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don’t belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.

“But you won’t have any luck in the Old Forest,” objected Fredegar. “No one ever has luck in there. You’ll get lost.” The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘A Conspiracy Unmasked’

“Estel!” Merry ran into the clearing and looked around expectantly. “Are you here?”

A Man, with long, dark hair and clad in green and brown, whirled about at the sound of the small voice. He had seen hobbits in Bree, on occasion, and frequently observed the small folk from the borders of their land, but had never before been this close to a hobbit child. He left the small campfire he had been tending and slowly approached the boy, who stared up at him in awe.

“I did not know that the Shirefolk spoke Elvish,” the Man said, “especially so young.” He crouched down so as not to frighten the lad. “Good morning. Are you looking for something?”

“Are… are you Estel? Frodo knows a Ranger named…” Merry faltered, less sure of himself now. His eyes widened as he noticed the long knife sticking out of the Man’s belt, and his strange footwear. The two horses staked nearby suddenly seemed enormous.

“Ah,” the Man smiled. “I can think of only one of our company who might have been given an Elvish name. You must be looking for Aragorn.” He touched his hand to his breast. “I am Thalguron of the Dúnedain, at your service.”

Merry didn’t recognize the gesture, but he found himself copying it. “Meriadoc Brandybuck, sir. At your service and your family’s.”

“I am pleased to meet you, Meriadoc,” Thalguron said, “but you should not be out here alone. There are dangers even in the Shire.”

Thalguron stared at the boy in surprise. “Do even the children of your folk know of us, then?” he asked.

“No,” Merry admitted, “not really. My father is Master of the Hall, and I... hear things.”

Thalguron smiled. This precocious youngster doubtless overheard many things indeed.

“Neither I nor the horses heard you approach,” Thalguron said admiringly. “You walk as soundlessly as any Elf, my young friend.”

“Now that we are acquainted,” Thalguron continued, “I believe I can assist you in your quest. If you would care to wait here for a moment, I will summon...”

At that moment, another Ranger ran into the campground from the nearby trees, the smile on his face fading as he saw Merry.

“Was that you shouting?” Aragorn asked Merry curiously. “Very few know me by the name ‘Estel’.”

“I’m his cousin. Frodo’s mother was my great aunt, but I don’t remember her.” Merry suddenly looked sad. “She died,” he whispered.

Merry stood tall and put his hand on his breast. “Meriadoc Brandybuck, at your service.”

Aragorn was impressed with the lad’s manners and composure. He was surely no older than Sam had been, when they met, but seemed much more self assured.

“Thank you, Meriadoc,” Aragorn replied. A thought struck him. “Does your family, by chance, call you Merry?”

“Bilbo spoke of you once,” Aragorn explained, remembering a conversation with Bilbo several years earlier.

“Frodo is wonderful with children - he helped raise his cousin Merry, back in Buckland.”

Aragorn looked at the boy closely. “Were you looking for me?” he asked, suddenly serious. “Did Bilbo send you, or Frodo? Is everyone all right?”

“I wasn’t exactly looking for you,” Merry admitted. “Bilbo, Frodo, and I are camping nearby. I woke up early, and thought I’d take a walk. I saw a Ranger here, and thought...”

In answer, Merry pointed to the silver pin - in the shape of a star - on each man’s cloak.

“You are very observant,” Aragorn said, impressed with the boy. He rose to his feet. “Would you allow me to accompany you back to your camp, Meriadoc?”

“Merry,” Aragorn smiled, “if I know hobbits, you must be needing your breakfast. And if I know Bilbo, when he awakens and find you gone, he will...”

“Here you are, Merry lad,” Bilbo laughed, coming through the trees with a tiny, brown dog at his heels. “And what have you found? Dangerous Men about to attack the Shire?”

“Estel!” There was a sudden shout from the edge of the clearing, and Thalguron saw a young, dark-haired hobbit race across the clearing and into Aragorn’s arms.

Thalguron stared in open-mouthed astonishment. Although he had seen Aragorn smile, and even laugh on occasion, he had never witnessed such joy on his captain’s face. He found himself grinning at the sight of his usually grim-faced captain whirling the hobbit lad about and laughing, the dog barking excitedly and leaping around Aragorn’s legs.

“Frodo, you do feed this pup, don’t you?” Aragorn chuckled, bending down to gently dislodge Scamp’s teeth from one of his boots.

“Of course,” Frodo said indignantly. “Bilbo and I keep her on a steady diet of Ranger bootlaces so she’ll always be able to find you.”

Aragorn greeted Bilbo, and introductions were made all around. The two Men and three hobbits sat together on the grass beside the fire, while Scamp sniffed her way around the campsite.

“Frodo and I were visiting Brandy Hall, and young Merry wanted to go camping,” Bilbo explained. “We’re camped not far away, in a glade near Crickhollow; that’s a small guest house about a mile west.”

“Estel, why are you here, in Buckland?” Frodo asked. “You’re awfully close to...” He pointed to the nearby Hedge, looming tall and ominous... and what lay beyond it.

“Regretfully, Frodo, I am not on an adventure,” Aragorn said, “although one of my men might have had that idea. A young Ranger named Halbarad was patrolling near here on foot, and is overdue. Thalguron and I tracked him this far. I fear that he may have entered the Old Forest.”

“Why would he do that?” Merry asked, wide eyed. “Doesn’t he know the stories?”

“Indeed he does,” Thalguron said. “We all know the tales, and would not disturb the trees’ realm without serious cause.”

“Halbarad is young,” Aragorn sighed, “although he shows great promise. Over a thousand years ago, many Dúnedain - what you call Rangers - took refuge in the Old Forest, fleeing an enemy. Halbarad has often spoken of his wish to see this legendary forest for himself, and pay honor to those who fought - and died - so bravely. I suspect that he found a way in, and has been unable to find his way back out. The tales speak of paths that shift and trees that beguile.”

“That’s right,” Bilbo nodded. “We hobbits have our own history and dealings with the Old Forest.”

“If Halbarad found a way through the Hedge,” Frodo asked curiously, “why can’t you just follow him?”

“It is not so simple,” Aragorn explained. “The recent rains have washed away most of his tracks, and although I suspect that Halbarad felt the lure of the old legends too enticing to resist, we have been unsuccessful in finding where he entered the forest. I have not had cause to explore this area before.”

“This Hedge seems nearly impenetrable,” Thalguron added. “We have traveled along its length to this point, but as yet have found no way to breach it without causing damage.”

“But something makes paths. Whenever one comes inside one finds open tracks; but they seem to shift and change from time to time in a queer fashion.” The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘The Old Forest’

“Frodo,” Bilbo reminded him, “we can show Estel the gate, but without the key he won’t be able to...” The old hobbit’s words died in his throat as Merry pulled a large, ornate key from his pocket.

“I knew he had taken the key, Bilbo,” Frodo sighed. “Merry said he wanted to carry it with him ‘just for fun on our Adventure’.”

“Wait a minute,” Aragorn interrupted. “Are you saying that you have a way into the Old Forest?”

“Yes,” Bilbo said, pointing north along the Hedge. “You’ve nearly reached the very place. Just a bit farther along is a tunnel which hobbits dug under the Hedge. An iron gate at the end separates Buckland from the Old Forest. Long ago, the trees attacked the Hedge and tried to enter Buckland. The hobbits cut many of them down, and set a fire that stopped the attack. Few have entered the Forest since, but I understand that the Brandybucks go in, on occasion.” He looked sternly at Merry. “This lad’s father safeguards one of the only keys to the gate.”

“Give it to him, Merry lad,” Bilbo said. Merry sighed and handed Aragorn the key.

“Thank you,” Aragorn said. “Why don’t you take the boys back to your camp, Bilbo? I’ll return the key to you as soon as we’ve located our lost comrade.”

“Can’t we come with you?” Frodo asked eagerly. “Maybe Scamp can help to---”

“Come on, lads,” Bilbo said, getting to his feet. “Rangers are excellent trackers; they don’t need our help to find their friend.”

While Frodo and Merry were saying goodbye to Thalguron, Aragorn pulled Bilbo aside.

“When you find the tunnel,” Bilbo replied, “you’ll see a lane nearby. Follow the lane to the west for about a mile, and you can’t miss it. We’re camped in a glade surrounded by trees, just off the lane near the house.” Bilbo looked at the Ranger speculatively. “You seem concerned.”

“I am,” Aragorn admitted. “Halbarad may be simply lost, or he may have been injured. If we need to bring him somewhere for tending...”

“Don’t hesitate for a moment,” Bilbo declared. “Crickhollow may not be large, but it’s well equipped. It’s empty just now, and you are most welcome there.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Aragorn said softly. “I hope to return soon, and with good news.”

The hobbits returned to their campsite, about a 20 minute walk from the Hedge. After breakfast, Frodo and Merry climbed up into the trees then tried to catch frogs in the nearby stream, while Bilbo sat on a blanket reading one of the books he had brought. While Merry took a nap after elevenses, Frodo ran about throwing small sticks which Scamp caught in mid-air and carried back to him. Bilbo was just waking Merry so the boy could wash up before luncheon, when Scamp’s ears pricked up and she started running across the field. Just then, the hobbits heard the sound of horses approaching.

“Come and have something to eat,” Bilbo urged the Men, “then you can tell us all about it.”

The Rangers sat on one of the blankets strewn on the grass, and soon were drinking hot tea and being handed plates of roast chicken and thick slices of bread.

“What of your friend?” Merry blurted out, unable to wait for the Men to begin their tale.

“He indeed entered the Old Forest,” Aragorn began. “We discovered his tracks within the tunnel.”

“He did not need to,” Thalguron replied. “A portion of ground near the gate had washed away during the storm, leaving an opening through which a Man could squeeze, if his desire was strong enough. We chose to use your gate entrance, and crossed the hollow that leads to the Forest. As soon as we entered the trees, we lost his trail. Intertwining roots cover nearly every bit of ground, and seemed to subtly shift even as we stepped over them.”

“We called out,” Aragorn continued, “but our voices fell at our feet. Sound seems not to travel within the trees’ realm, but whispers and murmurs could be heard everywhere around us.”

“I did not sense... anger,” Aragorn said thoughtfully, and Thalguron nodded in agreement. “It was something else...” He was silent for a moment, then continued the tale. “Thalguron stood at the entrance to the Forest and I went in only far enough to keep him in sight -- otherwise, I, too, may not have known how to return. The tales are true; even as I walked back to where Thalguron stood, the path I had followed seemed to have shifted. Whatever trail Halbarad may have left has been obscured, whether by chance or design.”

“What will you do?” Bilbo asked, concerned. “There’s no way to discern what direction Halbarad chose to go. The Forest has covered his tracks, and he cannot hear your calls.”

“Does Halbarad wear bootlaces?” Merry joked. “Maybe Scamp could find him.”

Aragorn nodded, but he wasn’t smiling. “He does, and that may have been the right idea all along.” He looked at Frodo. “Would you agree to my borrowing Scamp for a short time? I have no doubt that this dog’s nose and senses would not be fooled by the trees’ mischief; she could lead us straight to Halbarad, no matter how confusing the trail.”

“I agree,” Frodo said, feeding Scamp some bits of cold chicken. “But you’ll have to take me with you.”

“Unfortunately, he’s right,” Bilbo said unexpectedly. “Scamp will run back to Frodo at the first opportunity.” He looked at Frodo and grew very serious. “The Old Forest will not welcome hobbits, Frodo. The trees do not forget old grievances.”

“But what other solution is there? Besides, I’ll be with Rangers, Bilbo,” Frodo reminded him. “What could be safer? We can have Scamp lead us back at any sign of... well, anything dangerous.”

“I thank you,” Thalguron said fervently. “Halbarad is my kin.” He had heard that the Shirefolk were peaceful folk, and rather suspicious of strangers; he had not expected such open and courageous hearts. “Your willingness to help someone you have never met...”

“Isn’t that what you do?” Bilbo asked. “Few Rangers have met us, but you watch our borders without thanks or reward.”

“You will find hobbits to be most surprising, Thalguron,” Aragorn said with a smile. “And now...”

“Merry, you are most definitely not going,” Bilbo declared firmly. “Your father would have my head if I allowed it.”

Merry had suspected that Bilbo wouldn’t let him go with Frodo, but had no intention of being left behind entirely. He thought fast. “How about as far as the gate? Or maybe just beyond it? We can wait there for them to come back.”

“All right,” Bilbo said slowly. “And I have an idea.” He pulled out a large pocket handkerchief, and handed it to Frodo. “I doubt that Scamp will have any difficulty finding a trail, in or out... but in case you get turned around in there, let her sniff that. She’ll come and find me... and lead you straight back to where Merry and I will be waiting.”

Frodo stuffed the cloth in one of his pockets, his eyes shining with excitement.

Ainu Laire: It’s such a pleasure to return to this world. I hope your homework starts letting up as the school year come to a close.

Anargil: I’ve drowned you in stories! You probably know my characters better than I do, now. Thank you so much for all the support.

Andrea: Merry grew up in Buckland, and Frodo lived there for nine (or more) years, so you can bet that these two know many of its secrets!

Anso the Hobbit: I haven’t written much about young Merry, so this will be a fun challenge.

aprilkat: I do feel as if these are old friends. And I definitely see Merry as mature beyond his years, especially since, at the Birthday Party, at age 19 he was the one Frodo picked to help out at Bag End that evening.

Ariel: I originally conceived this story as another fluff-fest, but as you can see from the PG rating... there will be some angst, at least.

Arrina: I was sorry that PJ skipped over the Old Forest (and the Barrow-downs), but I guess he couldn’t fit in everything. Middle-earth is such an adventurous place.

Baggins Babe: I’m so happy to be revisiting this universe. What a joy to have folks with whom to share my joy in these characters.

Birch tree: I’m honored to write young hobbit fics that draw you in. Oh my, I’ll try to do a good job!

coughkouichicough: Happy to see you! It’s great that you have your own identity now. :)

Dreamflower: Your happiness makes me happy. I’m so glad to be back in this universe again.

Elven Kitten: You bouncy thing! I had no intention of starting another story so soon, but this one just kept glaring at me until I started typing.

esamen: Thank you so much. Yes, Aragorn has learned a lot about hobbits in this Universe... now it’s Thalguron and Halbarad’s turn to understand the value of the land and people they’ve been safeguarding.

frodo16424: I really missed writing about pre-Quest Aragorn and Frodo. In this universe, they’re very sweet with one another, and it’s a pleasure to revisit this world.

Gods-girl2004: Thank you for the hug! I’ll be updating as frequently as RL permits.

grumpy: I like bringing Rangers and hobbits into the same story. They all have the welfare of the Shire as their first priority.

harrowcat: Hee hee. Your fluff-buster may not get as much of a workout with this story as previous “Quarantined” sequels, but with young hobbits and a puppy around... I suspect there will be some fluff to be found.

Larner: I never dreamed that “Quarantined” would have even one sequel, let alone five. It just amazes me.

Lily Baggins: I love the idea of Aragorn “all soppy”, and his men getting to see him that way. :)

Lily the Hobbit: It’s fun to write a young Merry who’s mature, inquisitive, and adventurous... not unlike his cousin Frodo!

lindahoyland: Thanks, Linda. I’ve missed writing about Aragorn and his young hobbit friends.

Lindelea: Yes, the fall of the North Kingdom is what I was referencing (and there will be more about that later in the story). And the name Thalguron was generously loaned to me by an author named Ranger (who, sadly, is no longer posting stories).

lovethosehobbits: Scamp is jumping up and down with you! Down, girl! My goodness, when I was writing “Quarantined” I never dreamed there’d ever be a sequel, let alone a bunch of them. Amazing.

MagicalRachel: I definitely see Merry as mature beyond his years, especially since, at the Birthday Party, at age 19 he was the one Frodo picked to help out at Bag End that evening.

Mews1945: Yes, it’s Merry’s turn! I finally found a way to sneak him into the “Quarantined” universe.

my-fool-of-a-took: I’m so happy to be writing in this ‘universe’ again.

Mysterious Jedi: Just when I think I’ve written everything possible in this AU, those darn plot bunnies start nibbling again.

Sandy K: I never realized how flexible these AU universes needed to be, until now. And... torture? Me?? Well, maybe just a teensy bit...

Slightly Tookish: Yes, I love the concept of a Ranger needing help from the hobbits. I like bringing different types of folks together so they can learn from one another.

smalldiver: It’s fun to write about meetings between the serious and dedicated Rangers and the gentle (but shrewd) hobbits whose borders they guard so diligently.

Tathar: You know how I can write so fast? Because writing about hobbits is what makes me happiest. I try my hardest to find time for the thing that brings me the most joy.

TheHobbitWaffle: Well, after my last angsty story (“Spellbound”) and the next one I have planned (no title yet), I can’t promise too much angst in this one! (BTW, no one ever made “Scamp eyes” at me before! What fun.)

Wench: I never gave the Old Forest much thought until this wayward bunny bit me! Thank you so much.

He told them tales … of the Forest, about the evil things and good things, things friendly and things unfriendly, cruel things and kind things, and secrets hidden under brambles. The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘In the House of Tom Bombadil’

Aragorn mounted Arthad, and Thalguron lifted the two younger hobbits up to him -- Frodo in front, with Scamp in his arms, and Merry behind. Thalguron placed Bilbo on his own horse, and mounted behind him, one arm securely around Bilbo’s waist. The Rangers rode swiftly, following along the Hedge until Bilbo pointed out a gaping hole on their right, cut into a low hill.

After securing the horses, the Rangers and hobbits entered the old tunnel, and descended under the Hedge. Frodo, with Scamp at his heels, let his fingers brush against the side of the tunnel as they traversed its length; smooth bricks set into the walls arched high overhead so that even Aragorn and Thalguron could walk upright.

After about 25 feet, the tunnel began sloping upwards, and soon Aragorn was unlocking the iron gate at the end with Merry’s key. Merry found himself relieved to be back in bright sunlight; the tunnel had been dim and damp, not like a snug hobbit hole at all. Looking back, he saw that the Hedge was now behind them... and the Old Forest loomed ahead, dark and ominous. His heart was still racing from riding on such an enormous horse and at such speed -- and he reached out suddenly and took Bilbo’s hand, grasping it tightly. All at once, he wasn’t unhappy that he would be going no farther... and that Bilbo would be with him.

“Of course,” Aragorn said with a wink at Frodo. “One never knows where trolls might be lurking.”

“Don’t be too long,” Merry said anxiously. Frodo gave him a hug, then turned to where Aragorn and Thalguron were waiting.

“Come on, Scamp,” Frodo said, and the pup bounded along at his heels. Soon, Frodo and the Rangers had crossed the wide, grassy hollow between the gate and the trees, entering the Old Forest.

It was dark and overgrown, with huge trees of every shape and description looming over them, their twisted and gnarled roots interlacing the ground, over and under. The faint path that the group had followed across the hollow instantly disappeared as they entered the trees, and Frodo looked around anxiously, feeling as if they were being watched from every side. At first he heard no sound but the dripping of water, but soon realized that Thalguron had been correct -- there was a faint whispering and rustling all about them.

Scamp was sniffing about with great interest, and Thalguron crouched down near the pup. From a pouch at his waist, he pulled out a small parchment scroll bound with leather strips.

“It is a missive from Halbarad,” he explained as Frodo knelt next to him. “It is all I possess that he has touched. Do you suppose your dog can---”

“Scamp,” Frodo said seriously, taking the scroll from Thalguron, “we need you to find someone.” He held out the scroll and bindings for Scamp to thoroughly sniff, then pointed the dog toward the trees. “Find him, Scamp,” Frodo urged. “Go on, you can do it.”

Scamp sniffed about the area for a short time, running first one way, then another.

“I hope she does not grow confused by my own tracks,” Aragorn said, concerned. “I went only a short way into the trees, but it might be enough to---”

“She has his trail!” Thalguron cried, getting to his feet. Indeed, Scamp had begun to whine and bark, and was bounding forward as quickly as she could amongst the roots and mossy growth. She stopped suddenly, and looked back to make sure that Frodo was following.

“Let’s go,” Aragorn said, and he, Frodo, and Thalguron followed Scamp deeper into the trees.

After a few minutes, Frodo looked behind him and realized that he could no longer see the way back.

“Don’t worry, little one,” Aragorn said, resting a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Be sure not to call Merry that,” Frodo said, smiling at the nickname only Aragorn used for him. “He’s very proud of how fast he’s growing.”

“I will remember,” Aragorn replied. “Your young cousin is quite...” He stopped speaking as Scamp began to bark excitedly from somewhere ahead of them.

Thalguron raced ahead, followed closely by Frodo and Aragorn. They broke through the trees to a small clearing, where a young Man sat with his back to a tree.

“Thalguron,” Halbarad breathed with relief, “I am so happy to see you.” He looked up as Aragorn approached him. “Forgive me, Captain,” he said, a look of shame on his face.

Frodo looked up at Aragorn in surprise. He had known that Estel was a Ranger, but... he was their leader?

“I suspect you have learned your lesson, my friend,” Aragorn said gently, kneeling next to Halbarad. The young Ranger was pale, and looked to be in pain. “Are you injured?”

“My ankle,” Halbarad replied, motioning to his right foot. “I tripped on a root and fell awkwardly. I think it is broken, but I have not yet examined it.”

“Yesterday,” Halbarad said. He tensed as Aragorn began to unlace his boot. “I have had a very strange experience.”

“Tell us about it,” Frodo said. He saw that Halbarad was gazing at him in wonder. The resemblance between the young Ranger and Thalguron was so striking, Frodo was certain they must be brothers. “I am Frodo Baggins, of the Shire -- at your service.”

“I am Halbarad of the Dúnedain,” Halbarad said, touching a hand to his chest. “Was that your pup who found me, Frodo Baggins of the Shire?”

“Yes,” Frodo grinned. “Where is that rascal?” He looked around, then, hearing some familiar snuffling and yipping sounds, circled behind the tree.

“How is it that you travel with one of the halflings?” Halbarad asked. He winced suddenly as Aragorn drew off his boot as gently as he could.

“They prefer to be called hobbits,” Aragorn murmured, examining the Man’s ankle. “It is indeed broken, Halbarad... and rather badly.” He felt the Man’s face and frowned. The young Ranger was burning with fever. “I fear the bone must be re-set; we’re going to take you to a nearby dwelling where I can tend you properly and you can rest.”

“I did not think of it at first. I was enspelled, and no longer felt the pain.” Halbarad took a deep breath. “For a time, I did not wish to leave here.”

“I’m all right,” Frodo’s voice came from nearby. “Scamp’s found something!”

“I was looking for a way into the Old Forest, when I discovered a tunnel, and a gate...”

“The hobbits built it, long ago,” Aragorn explained. He held up Merry’s key. “They have a more practical method of entry than the one you found.”

“I barely squeezed through the hole the storms had opened,” Halbarad said ruefully, looking down at his muddy garments. “I planned only to come into the Forest a short distance, then return, but... when I finally turned back, the clear trail I followed in had vanished. I have never seen such a thing!”

“We know,” Thalguron nodded. “We were fortunate that the hobbits and their dog ‘discovered’ us. I doubt we could have found you without aid.”

“I am most grateful to them,” Halbarad said, drinking thirstily from the bottle Aragorn handed him. “I grew completely confused, and did not know in which direction to go. I came to this clearing. I explored the area a bit, and discovered something not far away.” He looked at Aragorn. “I found bones, nearly hidden beneath a tangle of large thorns. I believe they might be the remains of one of the Dúnedain of the elder days, who died here.”

“Halbarad,” Aragorn reminded him, “why did you say that you did not for a time wish to leave this place?”

“It was very odd,” Halbarad said. “I tried to reach for the bones, and was scratched by one of the thorns. I could almost swear that... It seemed that the brambles moved on their own.” He shook his head. “I returned to this tree, where I had left my pack, in order to find something to bind my hand.” He held up his right hand, around which a small cloth had been tied. “It was beginning to grow dark, and I decided to leave further explorations for the morning. Perhaps it was an hour later, I was walking about taking one last look around before the light fled, when I grew very dizzy. I fell, and that’s when my ankle was injured.”

“I started to feel very... strange. The trees began to murmur and whisper, although I could not understand them. I thought they might be trying to tell me something, but...” He sighed. “I was taught that there were trees in Middle-earth that speak so that we can comprehend them, but I am not skilled enough to hear them.”

“There are trees which speak,” Aragorn said thoughtfully, “but not all. The Elves awoke them, but the trees in this clearing are young; perhaps only the eldest can speak so that we can understand.”

“I felt a strange peace,” Halbarad continued. “The pain in my ankle ceased to bother me, and I no longer wished to leave the Old Forest. I felt I could remain here until the end of my days.” He flexed his bound hand. “I suspect that something entered my blood when I was scratched by the thorn -- something that affected my thinking.” He looked at his brother. “If you had found me then, I might not have welcomed you. I wished to stay here.”

“Yes,” Halbarad said with relief. “Many hours went by, and I continued to feel at home here. I felt no need for sleep or rest. Finally, towards dawn, I believe, I fell into a deep sleep. When I awoke, just a short time ago, I felt very ill and was... quite sick; there may have been some poison still in my body from the thorn. Then the sickness passed. My ankle was throbbing painfully, and I was quite dizzy.” Halbarad closed his eyes for a moment. “I am still dizzy.”

Halbarad nodded. “I was trying to determine in which direction to go when the pup found me.” He smiled. “I have never seen such a tiny dog.”

Aragorn chuckled. “What she lacks in stature she makes up in loyalty, intelligence, and an adventurous spirit -- much like her master.” He looked around. “We need to leave. Thalguron, would you retrieve Frodo? I want to use the handkerchief Bilbo gave him to protect Halbarad’s ankle on the way out. Hopefully, Scamp will not need it to retrace our---”

Halbarad gasped suddenly and looked around. “Where is the halfling? You must keep him away from---”

“I’m here!” Frodo and Scamp reappeared through a tangle of growth nearby. “Estel, you need to see something! Scamp was digging under a...”

Aragorn suddenly ran to him and knelt. He took Frodo’s small hands in his own and examined them.

“Frodo,” Aragorn said, trying to keep his voice calm, “how did you get all these scratches?”

“I was trying to tell you about it,” Frodo said patiently. “Scamp was digging under this strange bush, and I saw what looked like... bones. There were shreds of cloth partly buried, and I found something that I want to show you. There were sharp thorns covering everything, though, so it was hard to...”

“Get him out of this Forest,” Halbarad said urgently, trying to struggle to his feet. He could see that the backs of Frodo’s hands were bleeding slightly. “We must leave, Aragorn, while he’s still willing to come with us. He’s not cut as deeply as I was, but he’s so small that...”

“What are you talking about?” Frodo asked. He looked around at the Men’s faces, puzzled. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

Ainu Laire: I never doubted that Scamp would find him! And good luck with all your tests. It’ll be summer before you know it.

Andrea: I see Merry as someone who always wants to be prepared for anything. He’s certainly very “take charge” in FOTR when Frodo is leaving the Shire.

Anso the Hobbit: I’m certainly happy that such a Merry-lover as yourself is enjoying the story.

aprilkat: “Scamp - Detective Dog”! Sounds like a comic strip or Saturday morning cartoon. Love it! Ah, if only we could all spend a weekend camping with hobbits... and their puppies.

Arwen Baggins: I suppose this could be the time when Frodo entered the Old Forest; it’s fun to weave together canon and AU.

Breon Briarwood: Nothing too dire will happen, but it’s fun to have ‘ominous music’ in the background.

cuthalion: I’m also delighted to have this ‘universe’ to visit whenever there’s a need for puppies, friends, and happy endings.

EllyBaggins: I never planned to write any more of this ‘universe’ after “Quarantined” and “By Chance or Purpose” - but here we are, four sequels later! I have no idea what will be next, if anything, but the door is open for any ideas that pop into my head. I’m so happy you’re enjoying these.

Endaewen: Merry may not get as “tangled” in things as Frodo, but he certainly won’t be left out.

Gods-girl2004: You’re right... later in life, Merry will certainly have enough stories to tell about the Old Forest.

Lily Baggins: Of course things are going “as expected”! With just a teensy complication, as usual...

Lily the Hobbit: It’s fun figuring out “young” Merry - so sure of himself, yet still so young.

lindahoyland: The surprises aren’t too nasty, just (hopefully) interesting!

Lindelea: Indeed! “What could be safer?” is right up there with “What could possibly happen?”

lovethosehobbits: Sweet Scamp doesn’t even suspect how important she is... I don’t think. Maybe she’s as secretly pleased to be useful as any of us.

mews1945: Yes, what could be safer than being with Rangers? (Luckily, nothing too dire in this particular Universe.)

Slightly Tookish: I just had to write Bilbo’s pocket handkerchiefs into a story somewhere. He certainly seemed distressed to be without one at the beginning of The Hobbit. MacGyver had his Swiss Army knife... Bilbo has his pocket handkerchiefs.

Tathar: I don’t think I’ve written Ranger h/c since “Quarantined”! It’s fun. What I mean is, er... gosh what a shame about Halbarad’s broken ankle and fever...

TheHobbitWaffle: I think “fluffy angst” is a wonderful name for these types of stories.

“Come now! A little further on there is a place where we can rest for a little. There I will do what I can for you.” The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘Lothlorien’

“Let me have Bilbo’s handkerchief,” Aragorn said. Frodo, still confused, handed over the large cloth, and Aragorn let Scamp sniff it.

Scamp seemed to get the idea immediately, and dashed a little way off in the direction from which they had come, sniffing and yipping. She wagged her tail furiously, waiting for the group to join her.

“I have one of my own,” Frodo said, pulling out his own pocket handkerchief. “Do you need it for your friend?”

“I believe Bilbo’s will do,” Aragorn said, “but I can use yours for this...” He gently grasped Frodo’s right hand, which was bleeding more than the left, and bound it. “We need to leave immediately, Frodo. I want to get Halbarad to your guest house. The bone in his ankle needs to be set.”

“The bone has broken through the skin,” Aragorn said quietly. “He is fevered, and needs to be tended quickly. Frodo...” Aragorn looked at the boy. “Halbarad reports feeling very strange after being scratched by a thorn, as you have been. You must tell me if you feel dizzy or ill.”

“I will,” Frodo said. “But really, Estel, these scratches are hardly anything. Don’t worry about me.” He took up a water bottle, and went to give Scamp a drink before they left.

Aragorn bound Halbarad’s ankle, the young ranger clutching his brother’s arm tightly at the pain.

“Let’s go,” Aragorn said to them. “Frodo, make sure there aren’t any scratches on Scamp.”

”She’s fine,” Frodo said with a grin. “I checked. She slid right under those brambles.”

It had not taken Merry long to lose his fright, and after awhile he grew impatient with waiting. Bilbo sighed, watching the restless youngster start to pace back and forth. Something he had learned about Merry was that the boy needed to be doing -- or thinking about -- something nearly all the time; he wasn’t truly happy unless he was planning, organizing, or taking part in some activity. He would make a fine Master, Bilbo realized; keeping Brandy Hall and its myriad occupants’ lives running smoothly took an organized mind, and a hobbit neither lazy nor careless.

“I have an idea, my lad,” Bilbo said at last. “There are small stones scattered all over this hollow. Why don’t you gather some, and we can fill in this hole.” He motioned to the gap next to the gate where Halbarad had squirmed through.

“That’s a great idea,” Merry said enthusiastically, picking up the nearest stone. “When we get home and I tell my father about this, he’ll see to it that this hole is mortared shut.”

The hobbits worked busily, and soon the opening was as tightly packed with rocks as they could make it.

“Here they come!” Merry cried suddenly, pointing to the Forest. Scamp came dashing out of the trees, followed by Frodo. Behind them, Aragorn and Thalguron walked slowly, supporting Halbarad between them.

“Your first adventure without me,” the old hobbit grinned as Frodo ran to him.

“We need to get Halbarad to Crickhollow,” Frodo explained urgently. “His ankle is badly broken, and Estel says he has a fever.” He pointed to the filled-in hole. “Did you do that?”

“Frodo, are you hurt?” Merry suddenly caught sight of his cousin’s bandaged hand.

“It’s nothing,” Frodo said airily. “I was scratched by a couple of thorns. Oh, Bilbo!” he cried, his eyes sparkling. “Wait until I show you what I found!” He patted his largest pocket. “Estel hasn’t even seen it yet.”

The Rangers reached them, and after everyone had re-entered the tunnel, Bilbo pulled the gate closed, and the lock clicked.

“Bilbo, Merry... this is Halbarad,” Thalguron said, introducing his brother.

Halbarad smiled down at the two hobbits. “I am pleased to meet you,” he said weakly.

The group slowly made their way back through the tunnel to where the Rangers’ horses were waiting.

“Help Halbarad onto Arthad,” Aragorn said to Thalguron. “I will join you in a moment.”

Now that the Hedge was once more behind them, Merry could stand it no longer. “Frodo,” he burst out, “what was it like? Were the trees scary and dark? Did they try to grab you? Did you see any goblins? Tell me everything!”

“I want to take Frodo back with us, Bilbo. His hands need to be looked at immediately.”

“I hope it is nothing,” Aragorn said slowly. “Halbarad was scratched by what may have been the same thorns Frodo encountered.”

“Halbarad said...” Aragorn sighed. “Something in the thorns entered his blood, and affected his thinking. Frodo may grow dizzy, and act strangely. He may... feel compelled to return to the Old Forest. We must watch him closely.”

“Yes,” Aragorn assured him. “Halbarad said the spell lasted for some hours, and ended shortly before we found him.” He looked uncertainly at the horses. “We can return for you and Merry after we--”

“No,” Bilbo said firmly. “Get your friend and Frodo to the house; Frodo can show you where everything is. You’ll come to a small stable before you reach the house, but you’re welcome to keep the horses closer, if you wish. There are plenty of trees about.” He smiled reassuringly. “Merry and I will be along shortly, Estel. It’s barely more than a mile.”

“The tales are true,” Aragorn replied, glancing back at the trees. “Even as we retraced our steps, the paths had shifted slightly. I’m very glad Scamp was with us.”

“She does seem even more pleased with herself than usual,” Bilbo chuckled, watching the pup frisking around.

“The Old Forest is as mysterious as its legend,” Aragorn continued. “I advise that the hobbits continue to avoid it. Frodo was very brave.”

Bilbo beamed with pride. “I’m not a bit surprised,” he said smugly. “Now, no more delays, Estel; the house is just up that lane. And be sure to watch your head... Crickhollow’s ceilings are lower than those at Bag End.” His smile faded. “Did you tell Frodo that he may feel ill?”

“Only briefly,” Aragorn said, “I need more information; I will ask Halbarad for more details, as we ride.” He walked over to where Frodo and Merry were still talking.

“You’re coming with us, little one,” Aragorn said, lifting Frodo up onto Thalguron’s horse. “Bilbo and Merry will join us at the house.”

Aragorn smiled down at the pup, who was jumping up in an effort to reach Frodo. He picked her up and handed her to Frodo, then mounted behind Halbarad. Thalguron sat behind Frodo, and the Rangers urged their horses toward the lane leading to Crickhollow.

“Thalguron, ride ahead with Frodo,” Aragorn said. “We’ll need warmed water, clean cloths, and a place for Halbarad to lie down. And perhaps some food, and---”

Thalguron put an arm securely around Frodo’s waist and rode off. Aragorn followed more slowly, knowing that even Arthad’s smooth gait would send pain through Halbarad’s broken ankle.

“It is not far,” Aragorn assured his friend. “Halbarad,” he said quietly, “tell me exactly what befell you after you were scratched by the thorn, and how long it took. I need to know what Frodo can expect.”

“It was an hour, perhaps a bit longer, before I grew dizzy and injured myself,” Halbarad replied. “Soon afterwards, I began to feel very calm, and my ankle no longer troubled me. Some time passed... perhaps another hour, or perhaps more. I realized that I no longer wished to leave the Forest... I felt that I would be safe there.”

“I am unsure how much time passed after that,” Halbarad continued. “It was nearing sunset when I was injured, and I believe I did not fall asleep until shortly before dawn. It was a sudden, deep sleep, and I awoke feeling ill and disoriented. After the sickness passed, I felt quite weak, but clear of head.”

“We have time, then,” Aragorn said, thinking fast. “Frodo may not feel anything for several hours.”

“His scratches are not deep,” Halbarad said, “and perhaps we worry for naught. He may have been scratched by a different type of thorn altogether.”

“Dizzy,” Halbarad sighed, closing his eyes. “My ankle throbs, and I feel hot.”

“I believe you are fevered because the bone has pierced the skin,” Aragorn explained. “Once it has been tended to, you should begin to feel better.”

“It looks bad,” Halbarad murmured. “Will you need to put the bone back in place?”

“I will bear the pain without complaint. The halflings need to know that their protectors are not weak.”

“Halbarad,” Aragorn said softly, “you underestimate the hobbits. You need not be stoic or false around them.”

Halbarad suddenly bowed his head. “I am ashamed of my actions. One of the... hobbits... has already been harmed by my foolishness. To endanger those we are sworn to safeguard...”

“We all learn our lessons,” Aragorn said gently. “I am just relieved you were not lost to us, my friend. When was the last time you ate anything?”

Aragorn smiled to himself. If he knew his hobbits, Halbarad would soon be distracted not by pain, but by more food than he could possibly eat.

Ainu Laire: “...after all, Bilbo learns it (since he made that poem for Aragorn)...” You’re absolutely psychic! Wait until you see what happens later in the story. :D

Anargil: Oh, no! Sorry to make you whimper! At least you know that, with my stories, everything will work out in the end, and the angst will be as brief as I can make it.

Andrea: It’s challenging to bring suspense into this rather light-hearted universe. I’m glad it’s working!

Anso the Hobbit: As mature as Merry is, he’s still only 12. It’s interesting to try to imagine what he would have been like.

aprilkat: I think Scamp is the only character in these stories with no angst. She’s just having a good time being a puppy.

Ariel: Hee hee. There may not be mega-angst, but I’ll certainly try to keep things entertaining.

Breon Briarwood: They heard you, Breon! Getting Frodo out of the Forest took priority over investigating Mr. Bones.

Claudette: It’s amazing how happy we can be over Frodo-and-Ranger distress (as long as there’s healing and comfort at the end of it)!

cuthalion: I just don’t know how those cliffhangers slip into stories. Very sneaky and tricksy...

EllyBaggins: I love protective Aragorn, as well; I think that’s his true nature. And don’t worry -- even when this universe gets angsty, there will always be comfort, love, and at least minimal fluffage.

Endaewen: You’ve asked a question I can hardly ever answer. I rarely know, in advance, if a story will be long or short; I usually plan them to be short, but sometimes I’m surprised by a new idea that makes for a more intricate story. We’ll find out together!

esamen: Thank you so much. I love this universe as well, and am still amazed that it’s grown into as many stories as it has. There will always be comfort and love in this universe, in whatever situations these characters find themselves. (To be honest, I felt I was skating on thin ice by implying that not all trees have the gift of speech (at least, the gift of comprehensible speech), but it was necessary for the plot; I really appreciate your supportive words.)

Gods-girl2004: I promise to always save Frodo! (Although imagining him swinging through the trees on a vine is an entertaining thought.)

Grey Wonderer: Hope you’re not disappointed that they did find their way out. We’ll return to the Old Forest a bit later in the story.

harrowcat: Believe me, I wish I could update more quickly. I have to balance hobbit-love with a full-time job and taking care of life’s necessities.

Iorhael: Aragorn was acting strangely because he was worried about Frodo’s safety.

Larner: I’m glad they found Halbarad so fast, too! I can’t bear to leave folks lost and alone for too long.

Leah: That is a very useful pup. All Rangers (and hobbits) should have one!

Lilybaggins: What is it about protective!Aragorn that we love so much? It makes me melt, too.

Lily the Hobbit: Luckily, Scamp is too tiny to have been scratched up. I can cause distress for hobbits and rangers, but I just can’t harm a puppy.

lindahoyland: I just couldn’t leave Halbarad all alone in the Forest any longer. It’s always such a relief to be rescued.

mews1945: I’m so gratified that you like my characterization of Merry; I try to write each hobbit as a unique personality.

Slightly Tookish: Dark, murmuring trees, paths that shift, mysterious bones... good thing hobbits are so resilient!

smalldiver: Blankets! Soup! Hobbit huggles! What fun. I mean, er... poor Frodo, poor Halbarad.

TheHobbitWaffle: Making him better is what FrodoHealing is all about. Comfort, concern, love, and tender care are the “payoff” for any hurts inflicted along the way.

Tigger: Thanks, Tigger. I love this AU as well. What a wonderful place to play.

“He is Aragorn son of Arathorn,” said Elrond, “and he is descended through many fathers from Isildur Elendil’s son of Minas Ithil. He is the Chief of the Dunedain in the North, and few are now left of that folk.” The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘The Council of Elrond’

Frodo directed Thalguron where to turn off the lane, and they rode through an open gate in a hedge that led to a green path. Thalguron saw the small house ahead, and slowed his horse as they approached. The slightly overgrown lawn and gardens were a testament to how seldom Brandy Hall’s guesthouse was in use. He dismounted and lifted Frodo down, then tethered his horse loosely to one of the shaggy trees that surrounded the dwelling.

“How are you feeling, Frodo?” Thalguron asked. He was still carrying his brother’s muddy boot, and dropped it on the front step.

“Fine,” Frodo said, putting Scamp on the ground. “Come, we need to get things prepared.” He led the way through the round front door and into the low, turf-roofed house. The tall Ranger found that the ceiling was low enough to cause him to stoop slightly.

“I will,” Thalguron assured him. He found himself in a long, wide hallway that seemed to end in another door -- a rear exit, he surmised. On each side of the hall were rooms -- larger and more spacious than he would have guessed from the outside. On the left was a comfortable parlor, and a well-stocked kitchen and pantries. On the right were situated several bedrooms, what appeared to be a study or library, and, in the rear, a bathing room.

Frodo watched, amused, as the Ranger quickly investigated the house as thoroughly as he might scout a bit of unfamiliar countryside.

“A very cozy home,” Thalguron said approvingly, rejoining Frodo in the hall. “I have not seen many hobbit houses; most of the small folk in Bree live in holes cut into Bree-Hill.”

“The Shire is like that, too,” Frodo explained, “but where hills cannot be found, houses will suffice.”

“Aragorn will be here soon with Halbarad; we will need warmed water,” Thalguron said, turning his attention back to the task at hand.

“There’s a well just outside,” Frodo replied. “Why don’t you take the largest pots from the kitchen, and bring in as much water as you can. I’ll start the fires.” He dashed off to light stove, hearths, and lamps.

“Here we are.” Aragorn guided Arthad up the grassy path to the house. “Halbarad, I think you will find a broken ankle a small price to pay for being cared for and sheltered by hobbits,” he chuckled. The young Ranger didn’t answer, and Aragorn quickly leaped to the ground and helped his friend dismount. Halbarad was trembling slightly, his jaw set against the pain.

“They’re here!” Frodo cried, as he heard hoofbeats approaching. Thalguron hurried to the front door in time to help Aragorn with his brother.

“Leave his tunic and the other boot out here,” Thalguron said, working quickly to remove Halbarad’s muddiest garments.

“Mind your heads,” Frodo said as the Men entered the house. He gazed up worriedly at Halbarad, who seemed near to collapse. “Bring him in here, Estel; we’ve arranged a place for him to rest.” He led the way into the parlor.

Aragorn lowered Halbarad onto the thick pile of bedding and pillows arranged on the floor, and noted with approval several small tubs and bowls containing steaming water which sat in wait, as well as a pile of cloths and cakes of soap.

“We were just preparing an early supper,” Frodo said. “Everyone’s going to be hungry.”

“Thank you, Frodo,” Aragorn said, “you accomplished a great deal. Thalguron, would you clean Halbarad’s leg and ankle as best you can? I will tend to the injury as soon as you finish.” With that, he turned to Frodo. “And now, I need to get you tended, little one.”

“Why all the fuss?” Frodo asked, unwrapping the handkerchief from his right hand. “The bleeding has stopped, and the scratches don’t even hurt any longer.”

Aragorn dipped a cloth into one of the bowls of warm, soapy water. “Frodo,” he said quietly, thoroughly inspecting and cleansing the scratches on the small hands, “it isn’t the scratches that concern me, but what may have entered your blood when they occurred. Halbarad fears that you may have been scratched by the same thorns that made him feel and act strangely. It took a few hours, but he grew very dizzy, then was overcome by an urge to remain in the Old Forest. He did not wish to be anywhere else. After a time, he fell asleep, then woke up feeling ill.” He finished what he was doing, and looked into Frodo’s eyes. “You must tell us if you feel dizzy,” he insisted. “I don’t want you running off and possibly getting lost, as did Halbarad.”

“Back in the Forest, Halbarad called you ‘Captain’,” Frodo said suddenly.

“Of course,” Frodo said impatiently. “I might get dizzy, fall asleep...” He returned to more important topics. “Why are you the captain?”

Frodo peered at him curiously. “What if you weren’t a good leader? Would your men be stuck with you?”

Aragorn laughed, and motioned to the two Rangers nearby. “Why don’t you ask them? They will answer you honestly.”

“We are ready,” Thalguron spoke, gently taking one of his brother’s hands in his. “Your pup is very compassionate,” he said to Frodo, pointing to where Scamp was lying next to Halbarad, her eyes trained on the injured man.

“She knows he’s hurt, and might need protection,” Frodo explained. “Haven’t you ever had a dog? They’re very friendly and intelligent. At least...” He thought darkly of his experiences at Farmer Maggot’s. “Well, most of them are friendly.”

“Seeing how useful she was today, perhaps all Rangers might do well in the future to travel with one.”

“What do you think, Estel?” asked Frodo, patting Scamp. “If a Ranger can become an honorary hobbit, perhaps a few hobbit pups can become honorary Rangers!”

“An honorary hobbit?” Thalguron asked, grinning at Aragorn. “That sounds like a tale worth the telling.”

Merry came into the parlor, followed by Bilbo. Bilbo quickly took in the scene before him. On the floor lay the young Ranger, obviously in pain and breathing heavily. The injured ankle was red and swollen. Aragorn and Thalguron sat on either side of him, and Frodo was standing next to Aragorn. Aragorn saw Bilbo looking at Frodo’s freshly-bandaged hand, caught the old hobbit’s eye, and gave him a reassuring nod.

“Bilbo, I’m just about to take care of Halbarad’s ankle,” Aragorn said. He chose his words carefully, assuming that re-setting a bone was not something that the boys should witness. “Why don’t you take Merry and Frodo to the kitchen?”

“Good idea,” Bilbo said, nodding in agreement. “Merry, Frodo lad, why don’t we---”

“Can’t I stay?” Merry asked unexpectedly. He plopped down by Halbarad’s head and smiled down at the injured man. “It’ll hurt,” the boy said frankly, “but you’ll feel better soon. When my dad broke his arm, the healer was quick, and it was all over with before he knew it.”

“He’s right,” Frodo said, sitting next to Merry and taking up the story. “And afterwards, Uncle Saradoc was such a poor patient. You should have seen him when he tried to...”

Aragorn couldn’t keep from smiling as he bent over the injury. Halbarad had relaxed somewhat, distracted by the boys’ lyrical voices and mutual storytelling. It was now or never...

“Aiieee!” Halbarad screamed as a new and agonizing pain shot through his ankle. The room blurred and spun, and, as consciousness fled, the voices of the young hobbits slowly faded into nothingness.

Merry burst into tears and threw himself into Frodo’s arms. Bilbo quickly knelt and put his arms around the boys.

“There there,” Bilbo murmured. “Well done, lads. You did just the right thing. Shhhh...”

Thalguron, quite shaken himself, had been relieved when the fierce grip on his hand loosened and Halbarad lost consciousness. He wiped his brother’s face with a damp cloth.

Aragorn quickly felt along the broken bone that he had pushed back into a clean, straight line, and nodded.

“It should heal well,” he assured Thalguron, who was looking quite pale. “I will wrap the ankle in a poultice that should help draw out the infection, and prepare a tea that will dull the pain when he wakes. Once the poultice has done its work, and the swelling is diminished, we must bind his ankle tightly, and leave it so until the bone is mended. It would be best if he could rest for a few days...”

Bilbo looked up at Aragorn and nodded. “You and your men may stay as long as is needed, Estel,” he said, still gently rocking the two boys.

“Cousin Bilbo,” Merry whispered, wiping his sleeve over his eyes, “I’m hungry.” He sniffed the air. “Is that soup?”

“Come help me finish making supper,” Frodo said, getting shakily to his feet. He and Bilbo led the youngster out of the room, talking to him quietly.

“We should not have let the young ones stay,” Thalguron said to Aragorn once the hobbits had gone. “They were badly frightened.”

“We are the guests here, Thalguron,” Aragorn reminded him. “Their choices are their own. And you will discover that the hobbits, while gentle of heart, are more courageous and resilient than you may have thought.” He noticed that Scamp had -- for once -- not followed Frodo, but remained at her self-appointed post next to the injured man. He patted her fondly, and she thumped her tail on the floor.

“They call you Estel,” Thalguron remarked. “The Breelanders know you as Strider... are you known by different names in all the lands?”

Thalguron gazed down at his unconscious brother. “Thank you, Captain,” he whispered.

“It is less easy to bear the pain of one we love, than to bear our own,” Aragorn said quietly. “But the worst is now over... for Halbarad.” And he cast a worried glance in the direction Frodo had gone.

Ainu Laire: You and Aragorn make such a cute couple. I love those little scenes between the two of you!

Andrea: I’m so happy to hear that my stories continue to have surprises in them. Sometimes I wonder if they’re getting too predictable and similar to one another.

Anso the Hobbit: It’s fun to write ‘young’ Merry and imagine what he might have been like.

aprilkat: I like writing perceptive Bilbo. He’s well traveled and educated, and can no doubt spot ‘quality’ and potential better than most.

Auntiemeesh: All the things Tolkien just threw out there (like Frodo and Merry’s visits to the Old Forest) certainly give us a lot to write about, don’t they?

Breon Briarwood: I think Scamp should be made an honorary Ranger; she can certainly track as well as any of them!

Claudette: I had such fun weaving those trolls throughout “Quarantined”. What fun that folks remember and enjoy them.

EllyBaggins: I’m so glad you’re enjoying how I’m writing Aragorn and Halbarad. To answer your question, the events in “By Chance or Purpose” (such as Aragorn last seeing Frodo when Frodo was 35) may only end up being true to BCOP, and not in any other sequels to “Quarantined” that have been written, or that I may write in the future. “By Chance or Purpose” was the first sequel that I wrote, and it takes place 27 years after the events in “Quarantined” (when Frodo was 22-23). I never expected to write another sequel! But then I started writing other stories that take place prior to BCOP, and the AU universe starting bending just a bit. (For instance, in BCOP, Aragorn has never met Pippin or Merry, but in “Estel’s Birthday” he meets Pippin, and now he’s meeting Merry.) I think BCOP will have to stand on its own as an AU of this AU universe! (If this doesn’t answer your question, please let me know.)

Elven Kitten: You know everyone will get better! It’s just how and when that we have to find out. :D

esamen: It’s wonderful to write an “optimistic” Frodo, since book-Frodo was rather fatalistic and tended to need Sam (and others) to give him infusions of hope. And you’re so right -- I would never write illness or hurt unless “much TLC” was at the other end of it!

Gentle Hobbit: Your forest is much more sneaky and calculating than mine, I’m afraid! I suspect you’ll have to write your own “Old Forest” story someday.

harrowcat: I do tend to give Frodo a bit more delirium than any hobbit deserves, don’t I? Ah well... And thank you for the cooling hankie and cup of coffee! type type type type...

InuEnki: Yes, I think Halbarad is in for a few days of rest, food, and solicitous hobbits. Lucky guy.

Iorhael: I suspect that Halbarad will come to realize how lucky he is to be surrounded by hobbits.

lindahoyland: Thank you, Linda. It's challenging to write a story where we have seasoned, experienced Rangers as well as an impulsive, young one.

lovethosehobbits: Is there no end to the h/c we can think up for poor Frodo? (I hope not.)

Mysterious Jedi: I somehow neglected to give Frodo any illness or injury in “Estel’s Birthday” or “Reflections of the Past” (except for a teensy bit of heat exhaustion, LOL). But it is fun to bring these two together in a caregiver/patient sort of way.

Pearl Took: Merry was only 19 when he helped Frodo with the unwelcome guests at Bag End the night of the Birthday Party. He must have been a very mature and responsible youngster.

Rowan: Hee hee. I remember, in “Quarantined”, when some readers were upset that it was Aragorn who got caught in the muddy, freezing pond, and not Frodo! The poor hobbit has to catch a break sometime.

Sandy K: My mom asked me that same question! “What did Frodo find among the bones?” Young Frodo may be a Baggins-burglar-in-training!

SlightlyTookish: Maybe I should have named this story “He’s Not Out of the Woods Yet”. And you gave yourself a plot bunny in your review! Was Bilbo relieved when he discovered that Merry would be going south with Frodo? Did he know that Merry was a level-headed, practical hobbit?

smalldiver: Yes, is there enough h/c to go around for hobbits and Rangers? I suspect the answer may be... yes.

TheHobbitWaffle: I just don’t know how all this suspense is creeping into the story. Sneaky, tricksy story...

Tathar: Halbarad was so pleased with your hug! Rangers don’t get much positive attention, you know.

Tigger: Halbarad is “young and green” indeed -- but Rangers no doubt grow up fast, especially with adventures like these!

“If simple folk are free from care and fear, simple they will be, and we must be secret to keep them so. That has been the task of my kindred, while the years have lengthened and the grass has grown.” The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘The Council of Elrond’

Halbarad opened his eyes to discover that the youngest one -- Merry, he remembered -- was just inches away from him, smiling.

“You’re awake!” Merry said with delight. “And I’ll bet you’re hungry!” He scurried away for a moment.

Halbarad looked around, trying to get his bearings. He was still lying in what Frodo had called the parlor, and the blankets cushioning him from the floor felt soft and well made. Shelves of books and heirlooms lined the walls, and a merry fire danced in the hearth. On the far side of the large room, chairs and tables had been pushed aside to clear the floor, and his brother, Aragorn, and the hobbits were sitting in a circle on a large, thick carpet, enjoying what looked to be a rather sumptuous picnic. Delicious aromas filled the air. The pup was lying just a few feet away from him, gnawing rather vigorously on what appeared to be a soup bone.

Halbarad sat up slowly, careful not to move his ankle -- which he realized was wrapped loosely in a thick poultice and propped up on a pillow.

“Easy,” Aragorn said, coming to his side at once. He pulled over a heavy, wooden chest so that the injured man could lean back against something sturdy.

“Do not apologize for losing consciousness, my friend.” Aragorn smiled gently. “I was glad to be able to suture the broken skin and apply hot poultices without you being aware of it. Would that all healers had the same easy time in caring for the injured!”

Halbarad chuckled softly. “I was most happy to oblige, Captain.” He inadvertently moved his throbbing ankle slightly, and hissed at the sharp pain.

“I have a tea ready for you that should help with the pain,” Aragorn said. “I need to bind your ankle soon, but I would like to keep the poultice in place a short while longer.” He felt Halbarad’s brow. “As the infection is drawn out, your fever diminishes. You must stay off your ankle for many weeks, Halbarad; Thalguron is going to make a crutch for you to use. But first, you must rest for several days. We will---”

“I can think of no better place.” Aragorn’s gaze took in the well-appointed room. “How often does a Ranger find such a refuge... or such plentiful fare?”

“For the most part, they do not wish to know of us. But these three...” Aragorn motioned to Frodo, Bilbo, and Merry, “...and a few others whom I have met, are jewels among hobbits. They honor what we do, and wish only to make us welcome.”

Halbarad’s stomach growled suddenly, and he looked longingly at the plates, bowls, and trays of food around which the hobbits and his brother were sitting. “Have you and my greedy brother eaten our hosts out of house and home?”

“Hardly,” Aragorn laughed. “In fact, we have been hard pressed to consume all that is being urged upon us! As you will soon experience.” Just then, Merry returned with his arms full.

“Here, sir,” Merry said, handing Halbarad a heaping platter of tender, roasted beef, potatoes, and mushrooms. He set down a cup of fresh-pressed apple cider. “Start with that, and I’ll get you some bread and soup. Do you like puddings? We have...”

Aragorn grinned at Halbarad’s dazed expression, and Thalguron looked across the room at his brother and winked at him.

“This is serious, Estel,” Merry scowled. “You said he hadn’t eaten for... for a whole day. That’s...” He could scarcely comprehend such a thing. “I’ll get the bread.” He hurried off again across the room.

“Thank you, Merry,” Halbarad called to the youngster. He leaned closer to Aragorn. “Why is the young one acting thus?” he whispered. “Is he a servant?”

“On the contrary, he is heir to one of the largest and oldest families in the Shire,” Aragorn answered quietly. “His father oversees Buckland, the land in which we currently are guests.”

“He seems a remarkable child.” Halbarad started to eat, then unobtrusively pointed his fork in Frodo’s direction. “How is...”

“He shows no ill effects as yet,” Aragorn murmured, “but it has been just a few hours since we returned. You were only unconscious a short while.”

“What engages them so intensely?” Halbarad asked, realizing that Frodo and Thalguron were deep in conversation.

Aragorn sighed, and shook his head in mock weariness. “Never give a hobbit leave to ask questions, Halbarad. You will find them to be infinite.” He glared at his patient. “Now, eat. And do not hesitate to ask for seconds. Or thirds. Believe me, the hobbits will be quite amazed if you do not.”

When Aragorn left to fetch the painkilling tea for Halbarad, Thalguron came to sit with his brother. They exchanged some quiet words before he returned to his place between Frodo and Bilbo.

“Halbarad is well,” Thalguron assured Frodo and Bilbo, “if appetite is any indication of health.”

“I see that Merry is taking his responsibilities as ‘host’ quite seriously,” Bilbo chuckled. The boy had settled down next to Halbarad, talking with the Ranger and ensuring that he did not lack for anything.

“Estel said he was your captain because his father was captain before him,” Frodo said, excited to be talking with Rangers. “Can you tell me about him? He’s hardly told us anything about himself.”

Aragorn had returned to the room with Halbarad’s tea, and he nodded his permission for Thalguron to continue.

“What has he told you?” Thalguron asked cautiously. He was still amazed that these halflings knew as much as they did about Aragorn. Each Ranger, upon taking his oath, swore to keep secret the lineage of their Chieftain. He delighted in speaking with this intelligent, inquisitive halfling, but regarding Aragorn, was determined to say as little as possible.

“Not a great deal,” Frodo replied. “I know his father died when he was little, and Lord Elrond and the Elves raised him. He can speak and write in Elvish. He told us his real name, but we’re not supposed to use it except in emergencies; there’s some secret about it. He’s a friend of Gandalf, and knows about healing. But...” Frodo looked up at Thalguron seriously. “What if he wasn’t a good leader? Would you have to pick someone else?”

“We have been fortunate,” Thalguron said gravely, “for I do not believe that the Rangers have ever had to debate such a subject. We could ask for no better leader than Aragorn, and I have heard the same said of his father.”

Thalguron nodded. “Inheritance means a great deal to our people. We are all kin, in some way, but Aragorn’s family is...” He stopped.

“It’s all right,” Frodo reassured him. “I know about keeping secrets.” He dared a tiny glance at Bilbo, who was smiling at him. “So, you’re just lucky that Estel’s brave and kind and smart and---”

“That’s right,” Halbarad chuckled. He had finished his meal, and Aragorn helped him lay back down. The tea Aragorn had brought him had already begun to dull the pain and was making him drowsy, and he was enjoying listening to the conversation.

“Don’t forget what a mighty warrior he is,” Thalguron added, amused by the fact that Aragorn seemed suddenly to find the ceiling most interesting. “And he can track anyone, anywhere.”

“Except in the Old Forest. That place seems to be...” Frodo paused and looked around. “Do you hear that?”

“I... it’s like...” Frodo put his hands over his ears. “I still hear it,” he said, puzzled. “A whispering... like when the trees were...” He started to stand up, but suddenly paled and stumbled. He fell against Thalguron, who caught him.

“Aragorn,” Thalguron called out, “we need you.” He lay Frodo gently on the carpet.

“I’m just dizzy, all of a sudden,” Frodo murmured. He squeezed his eyes shut, and reached out for Bilbo, who took his hand.

“Let’s get you into bed until it passes,” Bilbo said as calmly as possible, despite his alarm.

Aragorn knelt quickly at Frodo’s side. “May I?” he asked. Bilbo nodded, and Aragorn lifted Frodo into his arms. “Here we go, little one,” he said softly. “Everything will be fine.”

Aragorn said nothing, but nodded that he understood. Bilbo led him down the hallway, toward the bedrooms.

Merry was suddenly at Bilbo’s side, looking frightened. “Is Frodo sick?” he asked.

Bilbo smiled reassuringly at the boy. “Not exactly, my lad,” he replied. “We think he’s having a bit of a bad reaction to the thorns that scratched him. The same thing happened to Halbarad. Frodo may say or do some odd things, and we need to keep an eye on him. After awhile, Halbarad says he will feel sleepy, and might be a bit ill, but he should be just fine by morning.”

They entered the smallest bedroom. Aragorn lay Frodo on one of the beds, and Merry climbed up next to him.

“May I stay with him?” Merry asked. “Frodo used to tell me stories when I wasn’t feeling well.”

“That’s a good idea, Bilbo,” Aragorn said. “He shouldn’t be left alone.”

“That would be fine, Merry,” Bilbo said, giving the youngster a hug. “We’ll be right outside.”

Bilbo and Aragorn quietly left the room, and Scamp ran into the bedroom just as Bilbo was closing the door. Bilbo stood with Aragorn in the wide hallway, looking worried.

“Bilbo,” Aragorn asked quietly, “I think it would be prudent for you to lock the doors to this house -- front and back.”

“I will,” Bilbo assured him. “And I chose this room because the window is quite difficult to open. Frodo won’t be able to escape -- should he wish to -- except through this door.”

“Do not worry overmuch, my friend,” Aragorn said, putting a gentle hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. “We will not allow him to run off, no matter how loudly the Forest may call to him. We will keep a close watch, and no harm will befall him.”

Ainu Laire: Your review had me howling! Aragorn should be grateful that he has such an attentive admirer as yourself. Silly man.

Amy Earls: Crickhollow does sound like a delightful bed and breakfast. I think I’ll book a weekend there. And you think I would ever let poor Frodo have delirium? Oh wait... well, maybe I would...

Andrea: I don’t think anyone wants Frodo to run off and get lost! I’ll see what I can do...

Anso the Hobbit: I can definitely imagine Bilbo bringing up his heir to be practical and well mannered.

Claudette: Yes, thanks to poor Halbarad’s ankle, I think the Rangers will get a few days vacation (such as it is) at Crickhollow.

Clever Hobbit: Eeee, I love it when people bounce! That’s a lovely compliment. :D

EllyBaggins: If only the world did work this way, there’d be more than enough ‘comfort’ to balance out the ‘hurt’.

Elwen: I don’t know how I let this story get to six chapters before starting the FroAngst, Elwen. Maybe I should turn in my FrodoHealers badge!

esamen: Thank you so much. Whenever I write too much angst (like “Spellbound” or “Mind to Mind”) I run right back to this “Q-Universe”. Believe me, I could live there too. And yes, isn’t SOA wonderful? All hail Nilmandra for creating such a lovely home for our stories. And... let the FroAngst begin!

Gayalondiel: I’ll have you know that Frodo loves being in my care. Sure, there’s the occasional illness or injury, but ooooh, all the TLC and blankies and attention and soothing and cuddling... What a lucky hobbit!

girlofring: I’m glad the “comforting and friend values” outweigh the angst. And I hope you had a wonderful birthday!

Larner: It’s fun to imagine Scamp as the “mother” of future Ranger dogs!

Lily the Hobbit: I do love it when the Big Folk are caught off guard by a hobbit’s unquenchable curiosity.

lindahoyland: I love how LOTR can show us how everyone can do their part, no matter how small or seemingly unimportant at the time. Everything contributes to the final outcome.

Mysterious Jedi: Yes, our hobbits certainly are learning early how to deal with unexpected situations.

Nimrodel of Meneltarma: Thank you for such wonderful enthusiasm! We’re finally getting to the “thorny” part of the story.

Pearl Took: I agree -- these are very lucky Rangers. They’ll be spoiled after a few days of living with solicitous hobbits.

Sandy K: I like imagining young Merry, and how he would have been raised to be responsible and quick thinking.

SlightlyTookish: I never thought much about Crickhollow before! It was fun to try to picture it, inside and out.

smalldiver: I don’t think Frodo is about to lose this opportunity to talk with Rangers.

Thehobbitwaffle: For a story that I only planned to be five chapters, this sure is cliffhangery, isn’t it? Honestly, it’s as much a surprise to me as anyone. Oh, and Scamp is definitely hypoallergenic; she’s the perfect puppy!

Tigger: You’re welcome to borrow Aragorn (or Scamp) anytime! They’re looking forward to visiting with you. :D

The dream Aragorn mentions in this chapter can be found in his conversation with Gandalf in “Quarantined”, chapter 20

Then he knew that it was ... the sound of the Sea far-off; a sound he had never heard in waking life, though it had often troubled his dreams. The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘A Conspiracy Unmasked’

In some part of his awareness, Frodo knew that his young cousin was telling him stories, the bedroom door had opened and closed several times, and that he was being watched over. But it was hard to stay focused; the Sea, which he had never seen except in dreams, was drawing him away in a slow but steady current. Merry’s voice slowly faded as the gentle, insistent water pulled him downward. Frodo felt no fear, somehow knowing that the Sea meant him no harm. He spiralled down and down, but instead of landing on a wet, sandy bottom, he found himself standing in the Old Forest, surrounded by whispers. He felt welcomed... home.

“Frodo?” Merry paused in describing a drawing that four-year-old Pippin had sent him -- either depicting a cloud or a flower, it had been difficult to tell. Frodo seemed to have fallen asleep, and Merry lay down next to his cousin, yawning.

Frodo couldn’t understand what the young trees were saying, any more than Halbarad had. But he knew what they wanted... who they wanted. He knew...

“Dark times are coming,” the trees whispered. “His blood is true. Bring him.”

“But it isn’t dark,” Frodo replied, marveling in how the day’s fading sunlight filtered through the fresh, green foliage, making the air sparkle and dance.

Frodo gasped as an image of Estel filled his mind; Estel as he had never seen him, a star on his brow, not his cloak... a light shining all about him...

Frodo sat up in bed, no longer dizzy. The trees knew something about Estel’s secret! He had to get back to the Old Forest, where he was so happy and safe. He had to. He looked around the room; someone had lit the lamp next to the bed, and Merry and Scamp were curled up next to him. Frodo carefully swung his legs over the bed and stood up, then went to the small window and pushed the catch. Nothing happened. He pushed harder, then realized that this was the window that needed repair. No way to get out without breaking the glass... no way to get out except through...

Frodo thought hard. He could sneak out the back door of the house easily enough, and run until he got to the Hedge. A short way through the tunnel, and...

“I think Estel still has it.” Merry yawned and burrowed deeper into the blankets.

I have to get it back, Frodo thought desperately. The gate’s the only way in, since Bilbo and Merry piled rocks into that hole Halbarad used. Getting back into the Old Forest, and hearing the rest of the message about Estel, was all that mattered. But he needed the gate key, and Estel probably wouldn’t give it to him. They all thought the Forest was dangerous. But he needed to go back...

Burglar! Frodo thought suddenly. I’m a Baggins, aren’t I? Bilbo stole the trolls’ purse, and the Elves’ keys, and dragon treasure, and Gollum’s...

He stared at the door, his heart pounding with a sudden excitement. I could borrow Bilbo’s ring, he thought, then Estel won’t see me when I take the key. I just have to go back. Just for a little while... In his enspelled state, Frodo never wondered how he might take Bilbo’s ring from the chain without his uncle seeing and stopping him, or in what manner one ‘borrowed’ a key from a Ranger... or, indeed, where Estel had put it.

With one backward look at Merry, and at Scamp -- who was watching him -- Frodo went to the door and turned the knob slowly. He peeked into the hallway and was surprised to see no one guarding either the front or back door of the house. This might be his only chance! Key or no key, he had to get back to the Forest... now, before someone stopped him. He’d figure out some way to get through the gate.

Frodo took a deep breath, ran up the hallway to the back door, and rattled the knob in frustration. Locked.

Frodo whirled around to see that Bilbo had stepped out of the kitchen and was coming toward him.

“It’s all right, my boy,” Bilbo said gently. “You don’t need to go anywhere.”

Frantic now to escape, Frodo suddenly ran past his uncle toward the front door of the house.

Thalguron dashed out of the parlor and caught the boy, bearing him back into the room. Aragorn, who had been about to bind Halbarad’s ankle, sprang to his feet.

“Let me go!” Frodo yelled. He kicked and fought, but Thalguron held the struggling tween tightly, trying not to hurt him.

Merry, alerted by the noise, awakened and dashed into the parlor, astonished at the sight of a Ranger restraining his cousin. “What are you doing to Frodo?” he asked angrily. Scamp came racing into the room, and began to growl at Thalguron.

“Merry, don’t interfere,” Bilbo said, coming to his side. He looked worriedly at Frodo, still kicking and yelling to be set free.

“Let me see what I can do, Bilbo,” Aragorn said suddenly. Mindful of the boy’s flailing feet, he quickly knelt in front of Frodo and placed his hands on both sides of the boy’s face. Frodo slowly quieted, feeling something strong and calming flow through him. He stared at Aragorn, breathing quickly. Bilbo was relieved to see the wild look fade from Frodo’s eyes, to be replaced with frustration.

“Let him go,” Aragorn said. Thalguron released his hold on Frodo and stepped back. Halbarad, lying nearby on his pallet, watched with alarm.

“Now,” Aragorn continued in a soft voice, “tell us what’s happening, Frodo.”

“It... it’s safe there,” Frodo tried to explain. Why can’t they understand? I have to go back! “Estel, they want to see you,” he said suddenly. “The trees want to tell you something.”

“I had a dream or... or something,” Frodo said, confused. “I didn’t exactly hear them talking. They... they showed me... it was you. They called you ‘Man of the West’. They want...” He stopped speaking, unable to explain.

Aragorn looked at Thalguron, then Halbarad, his friends’ faces mirroring his own surprise.

“We did not speak of that to the boy,” Thalguron assured Aragorn. “Could he be telling the truth?”

“Of course he’s telling the truth,” Bilbo declared. “He’s a Baggins.”

“Just wait,” Bilbo said, putting his arm around Merry’s shoulders. “Frodo, tell us more about what the trees told you.”

“They want me to show Estel what I found, but... not here.” Frodo looked at Aragorn with a sudden glint in his eyes. “We should go back, together.”

“What do you mean?” Thalguron asked. “Did you find something among the bones, Frodo?”

Frodo looked up at the Ranger. “The trees want me to show it to Estel,” he repeated, “but we have to go there.”

“The trees did not communicate with me thus,” Halbarad said, “at least, not that I remember. How can this boy understand what they are saying, and hear them from such a distance?”

Aragorn smiled slightly. “Bilbo,” he said, “when we first met, Frodo told me of a dream he had, which was quite... remarkable. He seems very gifted in that way.”

“He is,” Bilbo replied. “Frodo dreams of many things that he has never seen. I have encouraged him to tell me of them, when they occur.” He looked at Frodo thoughtfully. “Perhaps the trees are able to reach him by thought, or dream.”

“I suspect you are correct; the trees we saw were young, and are perhaps unskilled in the language of Men; perhaps they can convey images only, or communicate with words that only Frodo can comprehend.”

“Aragorn, lock him in his room,” Halbarad urged. “He will sleep soon, and no doubt remember little of this. I no longer recall any message from the trees’ whispers or murmurs, if indeed there was any.” He shook his head. “Frodo will sleep, and awaken very ill. We need to keep him here.”

“You could take him just within the boundary of the Forest until he falls asleep,” Thalguron suggested. “Perhaps you could restrain him so that he cannot run.”

“Estel,” Bilbo said quickly, “we don’t know what will happen to Frodo if he is forced to remain here. Halbarad fell into sleep and returned to himself, but will Frodo? If he is not in the Old Forest when the thorns’ effects wear off, will he recover?”

“Frodo is your responsibility, Bilbo, not ours. If you wish me to take him back to the Old Forest, I will do so.” Aragorn looked at Frodo, now radiant with joy, and sighed. “Perhaps I can tie him to--”

“Me,” Bilbo interrupted. “Take us both, Estel, and when we arrive, bind his wrist to mine. He will be unable to run off without dragging me with him.”

“All right,” Aragorn agreed. “I will take both of you with me on Arthad. The sun has set; you’ll need warm jackets or cloaks. Thalguron, would you see that Arthad is made ready? I need to finish wrapping Halbarad’s ankle before we leave.”

“I’m sorry, my lad, but I simply won’t have it,” Bilbo said. He looked into the boy’s disappointed eyes. “I don’t want to leave you here, but Frodo’s not going into the Old Forest a second time without me... and Estel’s horse can only carry him, with one hobbit in front and one behind. Can I trust you to look after the house, and our guests?”

“Good lad. See that Halbarad rests, and that Thalguron doesn’t go hungry, all right?”

“We will no doubt return within an hour or two,” Aragorn replied. “It is but a mile to the Hedge, and Arthad is swift.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Merry declared. “You heard Cousin Bilbo; I’m the one to be looking after you.” He looked up at the Ranger critically. “Do you know any songs or stories?”

“That’s fine, then.” Merry nodded to Bilbo. “I’ll take care of everything while you’re gone.”

“Let’s go!” Frodo cried eagerly. He grabbed Bilbo’s hand, tugging at it wildly.

“Wait,” Aragorn said firmly. He once again caught Frodo’s face between his palms, and again the boy was calmed by his touch. “It’s getting dark, Frodo. You and Bilbo will ride with me on Arthad, and try to understand what the trees wish to convey. We are not going more than a few feet into the Old Forest, do you understand?”

Bilbo smiled slightly and shook his head. “No matter. We all have our secrets.”

( ) -- unsigned: Thank you very much. I love writing dialogue, and it’s a joy to know that you can almost hear the characters speaking.

Ainu Laire: I definitely think you win the prize for the longest review (not that there’s anything wrong with that)! I love your persistence in spending as much time with Aragorn as the puppy (and Guards) will allow. I’m so happy that these stories cheer you up; RL is so stressful, and without hobbits, I don’t know how some folks get through it. Omigosh, you’re going to be a foster-mom! That’s thrilling and wonderful.

Amy Earls: I think hobbits would be natural caregivers. (And of course I’m not enjoying Frodo being a bit ill, either. Nope.)

Anargil: I just couldn’t bring myself to have Merry do anything wrong... I’m not sure he would ever get over it! (Your review was such fun to read. :D)

Andrea: I’m glad you’re enjoying the story, and it’s still full of surprises! I’m always afraid of starting to repeat myself.

aprilkat: I like to think that the Fellowship spent all those months walking together and learning about one another with a growing fondness and respect all around.

Ariel: I think we’ll have just enough ‘hurt’ to need a little ‘comfort’.

aspennial: This is the closest I can come to being in a warm, fuzzy place with Rangers and hobbits, and it’s so wonderful to bring everyone along with me. Thank you so much for enjoying this little world.

Auntiemeesh: I can’t imagine writing an Aragorn who wasn’t gentle and respectful of the hobbits!

Breon Briarwood: Frodo is certainly very resourceful... but his caregivers are equally attentive!

Clever Hobbit: It certainly took long enough to “begin”! I hope you continue to enjoy this.

cuthalion: Can you imagine anything less comprehensible to a 12-year-old hobbit than someone who hadn’t eaten in a whole day? Merry’s probably still in shock over that one.

EllyBaggins: Frodo really does have the best Ranger and dog looking out for him, doesn’t he? Even when circumstances are less than ideal, Frodo is a very lucky hobbit.

Elven Kitten: At least, with my stories, you don’t have to be too scared! Everything will eventually work out for a certain adorable hobbit lad.

Elwen: It really is difficult for me to put Frodo through any distress. There need to be good friends and food and puppies and cuddles waiting in the wings.

esamen: There’s just something so lovely about a woozy Frodo being gently carried by Aragorn. I do seem to write that into a lot of stories, don’t I? I appreciate what you said about the manners, courage, and thoughtfulness of everyone... I think that’s one of the reasons I love returning to this ‘universe’ again and again. This is the way I like to think it really is/was in Middle-earth. And I do apologize that this story probably won’t have the amount of angst you’re anticipating. Sorry! I tend to alternate writing angsty stories (like “Mind to Mind” and “Spellbound”) with less angsty ones.

Gentle Hobbit: Indeed, the trees have something they want to communicate. I’ve had that planned from the very beginning of the story.

harrowcat: Goodness, no one is obligated to review every chapter (not that I don’t really appreciate the effort!). Yes indeed, what does young Frodo have in his pocketses? Hmmm...

InuEnki: I wrote a Pippin “under the influence” scene in a story several years ago (“Unlikely Comfort”)... good thing our hobbits are so resilient!

Larner: I couldn’t just leave Frodo somewhere that would be easy to escape from, could I?

Lily Baggins: It’s nearly as much fun to write about hobbits-as-caregivers as it is to write about them being on the receiving end of the comfort. Fortunately for you (but not for Frodo), I’ve had experience with dizziness... and they say to “write what you know”!

Lily the Hobbit: I think Merry would have been raised with a strong sense of responsibility as the “young Master of the Hall”.

lindahoyland: Thank you so much. I just can’t seem to keep humor out of these stories, no matter how dire the circumstances.

Mysterious Jedi: In the Prologue to FOTR, Tolkien does describe the hobbits as “inclined to be fat”... which proves what a bounteous land the Shire must be.

Nimrodel of Meneltarma: Whatever Frodo endures, we know that (in this universe) he will always bounce back and be ready for the next adventure! And your English is just fine. :D

Pearl Took: I definitely imagine young Merry being raised as a ‘young squire’... but it’s interesting to see him through the eyes of someone who has to make his own determination about the “quality” of the hobbits they meet.

SlightlyTookish: I’ve loved the ‘reversal’ of hobbits taking care of Rangers since I wrote the first chapter of “Quarantined”. It’s fun to explore it (as you have!).

smalldiver: Watching everyone heal again is the best part of any story, for me. I want to hurry past the ‘hurt’ to get to the ‘comfort’.

TheHobbitWaffle: Frodo is a bit under the weather, isn’t he? I’m not sure how that keeps happening. And thank you very much for the good wishes; I live about two hours south of L.A., and we felt the earthquake down here (for a few seconds). Those things are very strange indeed.

Tigger: How I wish I could update more quickly, but I really do squeeze in hobbity writing in every spare moment. Thank you so much for your wonderful support.

A remnant of the faithful among the Dúnedain of Cardolan also held out in Tyrn Gorthad (the Barrowdowns), or took refuge in the Forest behind. The Return of the King, Appendix A

“Merry is quite a responsible lad,” Aragorn said, trying to keep the conversation light. Frodo, wrapped in a warm cloak and seated in front of him on Arthad, had not spoken a word since leaving the house. Bilbo sat behind, the old hobbit’s small hands wrapped tightly around the Ranger’s waist.

“He’s a credit to his family,“ Bilbo replied. “He’s as fascinated by Rangers as Frodo, and will not give your friends a moment’s peace until they have told him every tale they know.”

“That will take more than one evening,” Aragorn smiled. “He’ll be fine, Bilbo. Thalguron will let Merry believe he’s ‘watching over’ him and Halbarad. Along with Scamp, of course.”

“I think Scamp is still suspicious of Thalguron,” Bilbo said. “She won’t let him out of her sight.” He sighed, Frodo’s uncharacteristic silence worrying him as much as anything that had occurred that day. “I hope this works.”

“It should,” Aragorn assured him. “The moon is rising, and it has now been several hours since this spell came upon Frodo. If his experience continues to mirror that of Halbarad’s, he will soon sleep, and we can return to the house.” He slowed Arthad. “Here we are.”

If the Hedge held an air of foreboding in sunlight, it now loomed ominously, dark and high, as night fell on Buckland. Aragorn brought Arthad to a halt at the entrance to the tunnel that led under the Hedge, and dismounted. Leaving Frodo where he was, the Ranger lifted Bilbo to the ground.

“No self-respecting hobbit would be caught without such a useful item,” Bilbo declared. “Even Gandalf was wise enough to bring some with him on our adventure long ago. Kili and Fili swore never again to leave home without at least a dozen!”

“I do not doubt it,” Aragorn smiled. He lifted Frodo down to the ground next to Bilbo, knelt before the two hobbits and bound Frodo’s left wrist to Bilbo’s right. Frodo, his eyes riveted on the tunnel entrance, seemed not to notice. Aragorn took Frodo’s free hand firmly in his own and stood up, then he and Bilbo – with Frodo between them – slowly made their way through the dark tunnel until they reached the iron gate at the end. Aragorn unlocked the gate, and the three companions crossed the moonlit, grassy hollow until they reached the edge of a black, tangled mass of trees – the Old Forest.

“It’s all right, my boy,” Bilbo said soothingly. “I know you feel anxious. Here we go...” He exchanged a worried glance with Aragorn, and stepped forward. The instant they entered the trees, Bilbo felt Frodo relax, and a smile could be seen on the boy’s face. Bilbo heard soft whispers all around them, but felt no sense of danger or menace.

True to his word, Aragorn stopped walking when the small party had come only a short distance into the forest. “That’s enough,” he said. “Any farther, and Thalguron would have to send Scamp to find us.”

He found a patch of ground somewhat clear of the intertwining roots, and sat down.

Before he could do the same, Bilbo felt a shudder go through Frodo’s body. Frodo’s eyes were tightly closed, and he appeared to be listening to something.

“Sit down, little one,” Aragorn urged, and he and Bilbo gently pulled Frodo to the ground between them. The remarkable blue eyes suddenly opened, but Frodo stared straight ahead, silent and still.

“This small one’s mind is unusually open,” Frodo murmured unexpectedly. “Do our thoughts reach you in a way you can understand?”

Aragorn tilted Frodo’s small face up so he could look into the boy’s eyes, which appeared enormous in the moonlight and somewhat unfocused. “Frodo, can you hear me?”

“He is not being harmed,” Frodo murmured again, his voice toneless and without emotion. “We must speak, Man of the West... now, before the forest’s essence that flows within this small one wanes, and his consciousness flees the waking world. We do not have much time.”

“I don’t like this, Estel,” Bilbo fretted. “I hope we’re doing the right thing.”

“So do I,” Aragorn agreed. He held Frodo’s gaze. “What do you want of me?”

Aragorn slowly released Frodo’s hand, and the boy reached into his deepest pocket. He drew out something that glittered in the moonlight.

“What is it?” Bilbo asked curiously, trying to see. “It seems to be a very old...” He frowned. “Is it a pin for a cloak? It bears a star not unlike your own.”

“Indeed, it is an old-style clasp, in a style described in tales passed down among the Rangers of the north,” Aragorn replied in wonder. He took the clasp from Frodo and examined it closely. “This may be made of mithril -- a rare and valuable metal little seen in these days. A pin such as this is...” He frowned. “This is very old, Bilbo.”

“One of your far kindred fell, but not before showing us that the hearts of all Men are not against us,” Frodo said. “There have been many risings of the sun while his bones have rested here, protected in the glade where your companion -- and this small one -- found them.”

“Is this the tale Thalguron told us, about Rangers fighting and dying in the Old Forest?” Bilbo asked.

“It was very long ago,” Aragorn said thoughtfully. “The northern Rangers were nearly exterminated by a pursuing enemy. It is said that of those who found their way into the Old Forest, seeking refuge, few escaped.” He looked down at Frodo. “Tell me of the one who fell here.”

“He fought bravely, but there were many ranged against him. He took a mortal wound, but as he weakened, he grew aware of the life force around him. He perceived that many of us were awake, and watching. Before they left him, the men of black heart began hewing saplings in order to make new shafts for their weapons. With his dying breath, he of your kindred tried to tell them that we felt each axe blow, and begged them to leave us in peace -- but they did not listen. Their blood held little of the ancient lineage. They held no love for that which grows.”

“How do you know of this?” Aragorn demanded of Frodo. “No trees I saw in that glade were old enough to have witnessed these events.”

“The earth remembers,” Frodo murmured, patting the ground gently. “Our elders taught us, as we will teach saplings yet unsprouted. We remember. But we stand alone.”

“We feel a stirring in the ground... in the air... Men such as those who violated our borders in long years past once again roam the lands, paying fealty to those who would destroy you... would destroy us.” Frodo stirred and gazed up at Aragorn, his eyes deep and fathomless. “Dark times are coming, and we fear what may occur. But how can Men respect what they do not perceive? Who will speak for those who can do little to protect themselves? You are the one who must teach them about us.”

“The blood of the ancient ones runs true in you; you are of the Eldar, in spirit and essence. It is something we know. You are not like others of your kind; the span of your life will be long, and you bear many burdens with patience... as we do. We recognize you. Deep roots are not reached by the frost.”

“They think they’ll need protection,” Bilbo said in wonder. “Trees can’t flee an enemy, and may be felled by fire or axe. They think you can teach people to keep them safe from some darkness they believe to be coming.”

“It may be beyond the power of any man to keep all lands safe,” Aragorn said grimly.

“You must try,” Frodo whispered. “The Shepherds are far away. When the Elves have gone, only mortals will be left. If you do not teach them to know and honor us, who will?”

Aragorn bowed his head and was silent, fingering the ancient clasp. Bilbo was about to say something when the Ranger suddenly got to his feet. He stood tall, and faced away from the hobbits, staring into the depths of the forest before them. Bilbo thought he saw a strange light shining about the Man’s head... or perhaps it was just a flicker of moonlight.

Aragorn placed both hands over his heart. “Hear me, then,” he said, speaking solemnly. Bilbo suddenly realized that the whispers had stopped, and the forest was quiet... listening... Frodo had gone perfectly still.

“I, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Elendil, of the lineage of Elros, son of Eärendil who lights our way... in their name, and in my own, I do so make this pledge. Should I come into my own, and the Shadow be dispelled, respect for all living beings will be taught among Men of every land. I will speak of you, and your kind, and your wishes will be known. I swear it.”

“We hear your pledge, Dúnadan,” Frodo whispered. “We...” The boy shivered slightly and looked around in confusion.

“Bilbo,” Frodo said groggily in his own voice, “I’m really... sleepy...” He yawned and leaned against Bilbo, his eyelids fluttering closed.

“Everything’s all right, my lad,” Bilbo said soothingly. “We can go home now. My goodness,” he said, laughing with relief, “I think he’s fast asleep already. At least...” He looked up at Aragorn in concern. “Do you think he’ll be all right, truly?”

Aragorn knelt and touched a finger to the pulse at Frodo’s throat, then smiled at Bilbo and nodded reassuringly. “I don’t believe he has taken any harm, and when he awakens, hopefully his compulsion to return here will be gone. I wonder how much he will remember of this?” he mused, untying the cloth binding together the hobbits’ wrists.

“Halbarad remembered little... only whispers and a feeling of peace. And he said that when he awoke, he felt very sick.” Bilbo sighed unhappily.

“Bilbo,” Aragorn said softly, “Halbarad recovered quickly, even though he was alone and without aid; Frodo will not be alone. We will see him through whatever comes.”

“I know.” Bilbo saw that Aragorn was still clutching the pin. “What will you do with that?” he asked curiously. “Perhaps you should wear it.”

“Frodo found it,” Aragorn replied, slipping the heirloom back into the boy’s pocket. “It is for him to say what shall be done with it. Here, let me take him.” He helped Bilbo wrap Frodo’s cloak about him more securely, then lifted the sleeping boy gently into his arms and stood up.

“I think we can all use a good night’s sleep,” Bilbo sighed, getting to his feet and stretching. “Was it just this morning that Merry found you in the woods? We have had quite an eventful day.”

“Indeed we have,” Aragorn said, still thinking over what the trees had relayed to him. “Come, let us return to Arthad.”

“Perhaps one day,” Aragorn said reverently. “Or perhaps we will leave them in the protection of those who have safeguarded them for so long.” He took a last look around, then turned to go.

“Dúnadan,” Bilbo said quietly as they left the forest behind them, “that is Elvish for ‘Man of the West’.”

Bilbo was struck with a sudden thought. “That horrifying vision you endured when you had the Swamp Malaise – the one you shared with Gandalf and me at Bag End, when you had been so ill...” Bilbo looked up at the Ranger. “You feared that innocent people might come to harm because you had been pursued... and discovered.”

“Your memory is a good one, Bilbo,” Aragorn said. “The Enemy wishes for few things more fervently than knowledge that an heir of Elendil lives still... and where he can be found.” He smiled at the old hobbit. “Gandalf has told me that you keep a great secret, my friend. I fear that I must ask you to keep one more.”

“I understand, Estel. I have lived long, and learned when to speak... and when to remain silent.”

“This is knowledge held in trust by very few,” Aragorn said gravely. They stopped walking for a moment. “The line of the Sea Kings ends with me... unless events unfold that will bring us to a new Age, and a long hoped-for destiny.”

“You honor me with this trust, son of Arathorn,” Bilbo said solemnly. He bowed, then grinned up at the Man. “Deep roots are not reached by the frost, eh? I’ll have to remember that.”

Frodo stirred slightly and snuggled deeper into Aragorn’s arms, and Aragorn looked down at him thoughtfully.

Ainu Laire: It’s important to me that a thread of ‘canon’ continues to weave throughout this ‘universe’.

Amy Earls: I never thought of it as a Vulcan mind meld! If only we could all have a “healing touch”.

Anargil: I’m so happy to feed your LOTR cravings! And I appreciate your enthusiasm about 4-year-old Pippin’s cloud (or was it a flower?). I like imagining what his drawings would look like.

Andrea: Thank you so much. Yes, Bilbo’s enthusiasm for a new adventure doesn’t get in the way of his concern for Frodo.

Anso the Hobbit: Bilbo definitely has his secrets! And apparently he plans to keep them for as long as he can.

Auntiemeesh: Yes, only a delusional Frodo would even consider mentioning the ring (as nearly occurred in “Quarantined”) or plot to steal it. He always kept Bilbo’s secret well.

Breon Briarwood: Yes, this entire story was based on Tolkien’s notion that Frodo was gifted in his ability to dream (or sense) things that no one else could. If he could hear far-off things in a dream such as the Sea, why not tree-talk?

Claudette: Aragorn appreciates your good wishes! Like all races in Tolkien’s world, the sentient trees can also choose between good and evil.

cuthalion: Frodo is certainly uniquely gifted in many ways, and the trees are taking full advantage of it.

Elendiari22: I like adding new Rangers to this ‘universe’... who wouldn’t be charmed by the hobbits, or their puppy? :D

Elwen: I never gave much thought to what it would be like to write about Bilbo until “Quarantined” and “Reflections of the Past”, but I can’t imagine that age would diminish much of his Tookish nature -- and eagerness for adventure.

Frodo Freak2: Professor Tolkien did seem to imply, throughout the books, that Frodo was “psychic”... in a sense. Frodo’s dreams and perceptions were certainly above-average, and quite unusual for a hobbit.

Gentle Hobbit: A window escape for Frodo was just so obvious, I couldn’t bring myself to write it! Frodo’s dreams are such a fascinating and unique part of his character; I enjoy finding ways to use that ability in stories.

harrowcat: Sorry to disappoint you, but they really did only go a few feet into the Forest!

InuEnki: Hobbit leashes! Toddler Pippin probably went through dozens of them.

Larner: The trees definitely know who (or at least what) Aragorn is. They have their own way of sensing things.

Lily the Hobbit: Frodo seems to have been haunted by the Sea his whole life. What a fascinating concept for Tolkien to have inserted into the Tale.

lindahoyland: It would be lovely if we were all given the same respect and careful consideration as Aragorn and Bilbo give Frodo.

lovethosehobbits: When I remember how quickly I used to update (once a week for “Avalanche”!), I’m amazed at how much busier RL has become in the past three years. But we’re all doing our best to keep the stories (and h/c) coming.

Pearl Took: I’m so gratified to know that ‘my’ hobbits seem well characterized. Sometimes it’s difficult ensuring that they all have different and unique personalities... while remaining hobbity.

pebbles66: I like picturing Frodo with a ‘gleam’ in his eyes. As if they don’t gleam enough already!

radbooks: I’m so glad you’re enjoying this ‘universe’. I never dreamed it would grow into so many stories!

SlightlyTookish: If this series of stories is woven together by a single thread, it’s Frodo and Aragorn’s friendship. Whenever I begin to miss it too much, I run right back to this ‘universe’ and try to find a new way to write about it.

smalldiver: This chapter was a challenge to write. What would the trees have to say to Aragorn?

Announcement: I now have a website! Please stop by anytime at http://shirebound.tolkienshire.com/

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken:
The crownless again shall be king

“I made that up myself,” [Bilbo] whispered to Frodo, “for the Dúnadan, a long time ago when he first told me about himself.”

Thalguron was waiting at the door when his captain arrived back at the house. Aragorn handed the sleeping tween down to him, then dismounted and helped Bilbo to the ground. Scamp, who had been frisking about the yard, started whining and yipping when she saw Frodo.

“Is all well?” Aragorn asked as he and Bilbo followed Thalguron into the warm house, lit softly by lamps and hearth fires.

“Nothing eventful to report, Captain,” Thalguron said with a grin. He led the way into the parlor, and Aragorn and Bilbo smiled at the sight before them.

“I see your guardian is still on the job,” Bilbo observed. Merry lay asleep under a blanket, curled up on the thick rug next to Halbarad, who was also asleep.

“He did not wish to be put to bed,” Thalguron explained. “He declared it to be his responsibility to look after us, and not leave us alone. Merry is a very responsible and bright child... and quite inquisitive.”

“Inquisitive is a mild word for it!” Bilbo laughed softly. “After all, his great-great-grandfather was the Old Took.”

“Ask Gandalf sometime about Gerontius Took. There is something about Took blood that pops up when you least expect it.”

Aragorn saw that the parlor floor was nearly completely covered with bedding. “You’ve been busy, Thalguron.”

“Merry and I did what we could to prepare the house for our being here a few days, but I fear that, for us, the beds are a bit...”

“Short?” Bilbo finished for him. “I agree.” He shook his head. “I hope you are comfortable sleeping here. I don’t like the idea of guests sleeping on the floor.”

“Believe me, Bilbo,” Aragorn assured him, “quilts and pillows, on whatever surface, are quite a luxury to folk used to sleeping in the Wild.”

“How is he?” Thalguron asked, gazing down at the boy sleeping in his arms. “Did all go as planned?”

“We had quite an interesting experience,” Aragorn replied, “but Frodo seems to have taken no harm from it.”

“So far,” Bilbo fretted. “Would you bring him into one of the bedrooms, Estel? I don’t know how long he’ll sleep so peacefully, but...”

“Go on,” Thalguron urged, settling Frodo back into Aragorn’s arms. “I will see to Arthad.”

Bilbo led Aragorn to the largest bedroom, where they saw with gratitude that a small fire had been lit in the hearth, and a pitcher of water and cups had been set on the bedside table.

“At the boys’ insistence, we have been sleeping outdoors since our arrival on this ‘camping trip’,” Bilbo said as Aragorn lay Frodo on the bed. “My old bones will welcome a soft bed for a night or two.”

“It will be a crowded one,” Aragorn chuckled as Scamp suddenly ran into the room and leaped up on the bed.

“Estel,” Bilbo said, beginning to unbutton Frodo’s vest, “would you or Thalguron ride to Brandy Hall tomorrow, and let Merry’s parents know that he is well, and will be a few days late in returning home? Saradoc and Esmeralda have heard all about Frodo and Pippin’s friend ‘Estel’, and will trust your word.”

“I would be happy to do so, unless you prefer I simply take Merry back with me.”

“There is no need, unless he wishes to go, or his presence here is a distraction to you,” Bilbo replied. “I suspect that this experience is teaching the boy quite a bit about responsibility, and about those who safeguard his home and family; it’s good for him. Besides...” Bilbo smiled, “he has apparently bonded quite strongly with your friends. I doubt he will wish to leave just yet.”

“He is certainly no distraction, and we are the guests, after all,” Aragorn said. “Both Thalguron and Halbarad have grown quite fond of him. Halbarad is so young... learning more about your folk is good for him, as well.”

Bilbo bent to whisper something in Frodo’s ear, and frowned when the boy didn’t respond. “This is a very deep sleep,” he said worriedly. Frodo had not stirred once while they had put him in a nightshirt, and tucked him into bed, nor when Scamp had begun nosing and pulling on one of the tiny twigs caught in the boy’s hair.

Aragorn sat carefully on the bed and unwound the bandage from Frodo’s hand. Nodding to himself, he then touched Frodo’s face gently. “His color and breathing are good, and there is no sign of infection or fever. Hopefully, he will sleep through the night. There is always a chance he will awaken feeling well, although Halbarad said that once he woke, what remained of the thorns’ poison left his system... rather violently.” He sighed. “I am sorry, little one,” he murmured to Frodo.

“You are not to blame, Estel.” Bilbo folded Frodo’s clothes over a chair. “Do you wish to show Thalguron the clasp?”

“Leave it in Frodo’s pocket,” Aragorn advised. “He may not remember showing it to me tonight, and might wish to do so tomorrow.”

Bilbo nodded, and bent to give Scamp a scratch behind the ears -- eliciting a joyous tail-thumping from the pup.

“I believe I am 62,” Aragorn said slowly. “Growing up among Elves, I did not at first learn to count time as Men -- and hobbits -- do.”

“Much about you begins to make sense,” Bilbo said softly, turning to look at the Ranger. “If you would not mind, perhaps we can take a walk together tomorrow; I should very much like to learn more about you, if you are willing to tell it.”

“It is rather a long tale,” Aragorn said gravely, “and not to be shared with anyone else -- not even Frodo... at least, not yet.”

“I understand,” Bilbo said, gently removing the remaining twigs and leaves from Frodo’s curls. “There are no secrets between the two of us, but...” He looked up at the Ranger. “Perhaps a day may come when it is safe for all people to know of you. Deep roots are not reached by the frost... I think I may write a verse about that,” he mused. “I will keep it safe in my head until the time comes to share it.”

Bilbo stood up. “I’m going to wash and make some tea, then bring in some basins, towels, and an extra blanket,” he said. “I’ll be staying here tonight with Frodo. Please make yourself at home; the kitchen is well stocked, and the bathing room is just down the hall.”

“Thank you, Bilbo.” Aragorn got to his feet as well, careful of Crickhollow’s low ceiling. “And please, call me when Frodo wakens -- whatever the hour. Do not feel you must tend him alone, if he feels ill.”

“So,” Aragorn smiled from the doorway, “I assume that Frodo has a full measure of this ‘Tookish blood’ as well?”

“Not as much as Merry, or I,” Bilbo replied. “But Frodo has something else... something that’s... he’s very...” He sighed. “It’s difficult to put my finger on it.”

Aragorn left the bedroom, then went outside to make a final check on things. He saw that the horses had access to water and grass, and all was quiet. After a moment gazing up at the stars that shone down on the peaceful Shire, he rejoined Thalguron in the parlor.

“How is Halbarad?” Aragorn asked quietly so as not to wake Merry. “I am glad he is finally asleep.”

“Yes, at last,” Thalguron said, relieved. “I gave him more of the tea you prepared, and he ate a bit more. The fever already seems to be coming down.” He smiled suddenly. “My brother finally relaxed enough to sleep, but not before Merry coaxed many tales out of him.”

“I must admit to indulging Merry, as well,” Thalguron admitted. “The lad is most endearing. It is easy to see how your fondness for the hobbits has grown so deep.”

“Of course, Captain,” Thalguron assured him. He sat in front of the fire, glad to finally relax. “Can you speak of what occurred tonight?”

“Not everything... yet. I can say only that the trees want to be honored in the same manner as any other race,” Aragorn said. “They ask that Men learn to respect them for what they are, and seek not to harm their kind.”

“Why would they wish to speak only to you?” Thalguron asked, puzzled. He gazed thoughtfully at Aragorn in sudden understanding. “They recognize you.”

Aragorn nodded. “The young trees seem to have perceptions we did not realize, and a most unique method of communication. I would like to consult with Elrond about much of this.”

“And what did Frodo discover, that he could only reveal to you in the Old Forest?”

“An heirloom from the distant past; he will show everyone tomorrow, I am certain. I am curious to see it in full daylight.” Aragorn yawned suddenly.

“It has been many days since you have fully rested, Captain,” Thalguron said. “Do you wish a meal before sleep?”

“A most hobbit-like thing to inquire,” Aragorn grinned. “How will you ever be satisfied with woodland fare after this?”

Ainu Laire: Ah, the continuing saga of Suvi, puppy, and long-suffering king! What fun.

Amy Earls: There are few things more thrilling to an author than to be asked, “Does this fic have to end?” (sending hugs)

Anargil: I was unsure that it would be obvious that it was the trees talking, and not just Frodo having some vision or delusion. Thank you for the reassurance.

Andrea: I was caught by something Tom Bombadil said in FOTR, about the Old Forest: “evil things and good things, things friendly and things unfriendly, cruel things and kind things.” All races -- even the trees -- have their evil and good, cruel and kind.

aprilkat: It’s only through writing/reading fanfiction that I’ve come to appreciate Bilbo, and the qualities that made him such a unique hobbit. I think Frodo must have learned a lot, living with such a special person.

Auntiemeesh: You’re right, Bilbo will only reveal his rhyme to Aragorn... for now! :D

Baggins Babe: Yes, if we could all hear the messages being sent by trees and other living things, the world might be a more compassionate place for those who speak in languages other than our own.

Endaewen: Thank you so much for pointing out the canon error, which I fixed immediately; the trees are sleepy during the day, but less so at night. Methinks it’s time I read FOTR again... :D

Gayalondiel: I love finding ways to weave canon -- and Middle-earth history and myth -- throughout my stories, and I end up doing a lot more research for even “simple” stories than I originally imagined.

Gentle Hobbit: Professor Tolkien left us so many lovely blanks to fill in... such as when Aragorn told Bilbo about himself, and why, and under what circumstances. What fun to try to write a possible explanation.

harrowcat: We do get to see Bilbo starting to work on the poem, or at least the beginnings of the idea for it. And thank you for feeding any and all bunnies! Authors need all the help they can get. :D

Larner: It’s fun to imagine the origins of things, such as when and how Bilbo learned about Aragorn’s identity and lineage.

Lily the Hobbit: It was a real challenge to write the trees “talking” through Frodo. I was afraid it might seem too far-fetched, even for an AU.

lindahoyland: You sweetie. Thank you. Yes, if only we had more leaders who felt (and taught) that honoring trees and all growing things was a priority.

lovethosehobbits: I’m truly honored that this is one of your favorites! Like most of my stories, it’s evolving way beyond my original idea.

Nimrodel of Meneltarma: Thank you so much. Chapter 8 was quite complex to write, and I’m glad it turned out well.

Slightly Tookish: Soft blankets and pillows and cuddling... in one of my stories? Hee hee. That’s the best part, of course!

smalldiver: Thank you for your lovely comments. It’s interesting to think that trees (or anyone) could find a way to communicate in a new way.

TheHobbitWaffle: Thank you for saying that chapter 8 was ‘vivid’! I can picture things so clearly, but I’m never sure it’s coming across when I write.

Tigger: I’m so glad that the trees ‘using’ Frodo to speak seems to have worked. It was a difficult chapter to write.

A few lines in this chapter originally appeared in short scene I posted in my LiveJournal in 2003.

Poor Mr. Baggins had never had much practice in climbing trees, but they hoisted him up into the lowest branches of an enormous oak that grew right out into the path, and up he had to go as best he could. The Hobbit, ‘Flies and Spiders’

The moment he stepped into the Old Forest, Frodo relaxed. I’m back, I’m safe, I’m here, his blood sang with exultation. All awareness of Aragorn and Bilbo faded as he ran forward, plunging deeply into the trees’ welcoming presence. He grew neither tired nor hungry as he walked and explored, the light around him a consistent greenish glow of ancient thoughts and fresh, new life. After awhile, he came to a tree that seemed familiar. If he climbed it, would he see the black butterflies from Bilbo’s stories, and feel the cool breezes? Bilbo... For a moment, Frodo thought he heard Bilbo calling his name, but when he looked around, he didn’t see anyone.

By the time Frodo reached the top of the tree, he was feeling hot, and the greenish air had become thick and less easy to breathe. Then the heavy, strange air began to move, the tree swayed alarmingly, and Frodo held on as best he could to thin branches that no longer felt either welcoming or friendly. A strong wind shook the tree, and a storm broke overhead, pelting the boy with freezing rain.

Aragorn came instantly awake to a pull on his arm. Opening his eyes, he realized that Scamp was tugging on his sleeve with her teeth. A pale light streamed into the parlor windows; it was dawn. Scamp suddenly released his sleeve and ran out of the parlor, back toward the bedrooms.

Aragorn, clad in shirt and breeches, made his barefoot way carefully over and around Thalguron, Merry, and Halbarad -- who lay asleep on the floor -- before moving quickly down the hallway to the large bedroom where he had left Bilbo and Frodo the night before.

Aragorn quickly sat on the bed next to the old hobbit, who was sitting up and holding Frodo in his arms. The boy was still asleep, but he moaned and thrashed -- apparently in the throes of a powerful nightmare.

“I tried,” Bilbo replied, “although I wasn’t sure she understood what I needed.”

“I think she understands quite a bit,” Aragorn murmured, patting Scamp -- who now lay curled on one of the pillows, watching Frodo closely.

“At least he slept through the night. Perhaps he is close to the final phase of this ‘spell’.

Frodo looked about in terror as the branch to which he was desperately clinging shifted... changed... why, he wasn’t in the Old Forest at all! Completely bewildered, he realized that he was actually holding onto the mast of a tiny boat as a storm raged about him. The cold rain continued, and the boat rolled back and forth, up and down... An intense nausea rose in the boy, and he knew he was going to be sick. He fell to his knees in the bottom of the small, rocking craft, beginning to retch uncontrollably.

Bilbo maneuvered Frodo into a kneeling position on the bed, leaning him over a basin Aragorn had hastily grabbed. Bilbo wrapped one arm lightly around the tween’s chest and held a soothing hand across his brow.

“There, there, my lad,” Bilbo murmured, hoping Frodo could hear him. “It will be over soon.”

Frodo knelt over the basin, his eyes still closed, and gasped for breath when the vomiting eased for a moment.

“We just have to wait it out,” Aragorn sighed. When the second bout was done, he wiped Frodo’s face with a damp cloth and replaced the basin with a fresh one.

“Halbarad went through this alone?” Bilbo murmured. “How dreadful.” When Frodo finally slumped in his arms, pale and shaking, he turned anxious eyes to Aragorn. “Estel, is there anything you can do to help him wake fully? Yesterday, you had but to touch his face, and---”

“I will try,” Aragorn said quietly, and took Frodo’s clammy face between his hands. “Come back to us, little one,” he whispered, concentrating deeply.

Frodo huddled in the bottom of the boat, soaked and miserable, as the sickness came and went. How had this happened? Where was he?

Men fighting amongst the trees... was he still in the Forest, then? A commanding presence filled his thoughts, and he struggled to focus. The trees had shown him Estel like this, hadn’t they? A star at his brow, standing tall and... the trees... the Men fighting...

Frodo slowly opened his eyes, and tried to understand where he was. Aragorn watched anxiously as the boy’s eyes tried to focus on him. His fingers brushed over the pale face.

“He may be still caught in the trees’ memories of that battle long ago,” Aragorn sighed. He looked deeply into the boy’s confused eyes. “Frodo, say my name.”

“You...” Frodo stared at the man. It was Estel... or was it? The image the trees had conveyed to him blurred with the face before him until he no longer knew if he could trust what he was seeing. Men running, fighting... so long ago... or was it yet to be? “Where am I?” He looked around wildly. “When?”

“You’re at Crickhollow, with Bilbo and Merry.” Aragorn said calmly. “Try to concentrate. Say my name.”

“That’s right,” Aragorn said soothingly. “And as to when... you tell me. What is the year?”

“Ah yes,” Aragorn sighed with relief to Bilbo. “I forgot that the Shire keeps its own calendar.”

“Silly Ranger,” Frodo murmured. He turned his head away when Aragorn held a cup of water to his lips. “I can’t...”

Frodo nodded, then twisted around slightly and looked up at Bilbo. “Bilbo, what are you doing here?” he asked, puzzled.

“Safe,” Frodo sighed as he was held gently in Bilbo’s arms. “I was safe in the tree... until the storm came...”

“You told us last night that the Forest made you feel safe,” Bilbo said, voicing something that had been concerning him. “Do you not feel safe, sometimes, Frodo?”

“I’m cold,” Frodo whispered. “There was so much rain.” Aragorn picked up one of the extra blankets at the foot of the bed and wrapped it around the boy, and Scamp immediately burrowed in with him.

“Frodo, try to focus on where you are,” Aragorn said urgently. “You must separate your dreams from reality. As your body fights to throw off the thorns’ poison, the essence of the Old Forest tries to maintain its hold on you.”

“I’m trying...” Frodo’s eyelids fluttered closed, and he relaxed as Bilbo began to hum softly to him. “Try to... keep the boat steady...” After a few minutes, his breathing grew deep and even.

“He’s fallen back to sleep,” Aragorn said. “He has just the slightest fever, Bilbo; hopefully, the worst is over, and he can sweat out the rest of the poison without further illness.”

“I certainly hope so,” Bilbo said fervently. “Why would he ask me about my age, and think he was on a boat?”

“Captain...” Thalguron stood in the doorway, running his fingers through rumpled hair. “Is there anything you need?” He smelled the sickness in the air, and moved to retrieve the soiled basins that Aragorn had set on the floor.

“Thank you, Thalguron,” Bilbo yawned. “Oh dear, Merry will be up, soon. I need to--”

“We’ll keep him occupied,” Aragorn smiled. “Stay here, Bilbo. See if you can get a bit more sleep.” Bilbo lay Frodo down, and they tucked the blanket around him. “Frodo should probably stay in bed today, and not exert himself – at least, not until we’re certain that he’s fully aware of his surroundings.”

Scamp suddenly poked her head out of the blankets and leaped off the bed. She ran out of the bedroom and to the front door of the house, where she waited, looking back at Thalguron expectantly.

“I think someone needs a walk,” Bilbo guessed. “You’ve made another friend, Thalguron.”

“I’ll see to it,” Thalguron chuckled. “And Bilbo, we’ll make sure Merry has his breakfast.”

“Don’t worry, my friend,” the Ranger grinned. “I’ll teach Thalguron all about second breakfast, as well.”

Chapter 11 brings an unexpected visitor to Crickhollow. Virtual lollypops to anyone who can guess correctly!

Ainu Laire: Wouldn’t it be fantastic to find an heirloom from ancient Middle-earth? (Or modern Middle-earth, actually. That would be just as cool.) *pets Estel-puppy*

Amy Earls: LOL, I never thought of this as a “slumber party”! I love that. And I went on a very unique camping trip once, where we were taught to ask the trees’ permission if we wanted to tie something to them (like a tent) or disturb them in any way. You just never know what life forms are awake and aware, and appreciative of a little respect.

Anargil: I did feel as if chapter 8 was a ‘reprieve’ from all the creepiness! Glad it came across that way. Amazingly, I find that I’ve actually written stories without hobbit angst (like “Healed” and “Estel’s Birthday”), but not very many! At least there’s always comfort waiting at the end of the road.

Andrea: Thank you so much for quoting a line you like; that’s always so wonderful.

Anso the Hobbit: I’m so happy you got to play with “real” hobbits! What a wonderful treat.

aprilkat: Definitely, one of the major themes of “Quarantined” (and this whole ‘universe’) is the developing understanding and respect between hobbits and the rangers who safeguard them.

Auntiemeesh: Sorry Merry seems to have slept right through this chapter, but he’ll be back in Chapter 11!

Breon Briarwood: Yes... regretfully, Frodo did awaken a bit indisposed. My goodness.

cuthalion: Oh, I love your phrase “heart lifting mischief of hobbits”. Squeeee!

Elwen: I nearly did call Chapter 8 an “interlude” instead of a chapter. I’m so glad it came across as warm and comforting.

Endaewen: Write on! I’d love it if this story (or any of my stories) inspired someone to write.

Gentle Hobbit: I’m simply compelled to write “gentle, cozy stories” (for the most part!). I never dreamed that other folks might enjoy them this much. Thank you for your lovely words.

InuEnki: What a joy to know that something I wrote cheered up your day. That’s the magic of hobbits.

Larner: You’re right! The rangers are so entertained by Merry and Frodo’s inquisitiveness, they may have underestimated Bilbo’s.

Lily: I agree, who wouldn’t grow so fond of hobbits... these wonderful hobbits, at least?

Lily Baggins: I thought I saw your ears perk up at the word “basins”. You rascal.

lindahoyland: Thank you, Linda. Our sweet hobbits (and rangers and everyone else!) deserve all the warmth and comfort they can get.

Lindelea: It’s such a challenge to write hobbit children, and give them the separate and unique personalities they deserve. I’m very happy you like ‘my’ Merry. Now that I think about it, I do think that he and Frodo would be much alike -- having been raised (for many years) by the same people.

lovethosehobbits: Goodness, this isn’t even close to ‘perfection’ -- it’s just hobbit love!

Mysterious Jedi: Merry might just pass along the stories to others... you never know!

Nimrodel of Meneltarma: Your English is wonderful, and thank you so much for your kind words. I have no plans to stop writing... I have too many ideas!

Samantha: Thank you for your lovely words, Samantha. Encouraging reviews are definitely a major reason I continue writing, and I’m so glad you let me know you’re enjoying these stories.

SlightlyTookish: There’s definitely lots of comfort ahead for our sweet Frodo.

TheHobbitWaffle: And sometimes my stories tend to lack description! I much prefer writing endless dialogue.

Tigger: “Rangers, hobbits, pups and a slumber party.” My kind of party! I guess this is the closest we’ll get to being there (except in our imaginations).

This chapter references “Quarantined”, chapters 6 and 11; and “Estel’s Birthday”, chapter 8.

Virtual lollypops go to Andrea, Mews, pip4, and The Hobbit Waffle, for guessing (or hoping for) the person who shows up unexpectedly in this chapter!

Merry turned from where he had been drawing at the small writing desk, and grinned at his cousin. “You’re awake!” he said delightedly to Frodo. “Are you feeling better?”

Frodo took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. The small bedroom was bright with sunlight, and, looking around, he saw that someone had fixed the broken latch on the window -- the curtains fluttered in the warm, gentle breeze that filled the room.

“Thalguron fixed it,” Merry explained. “Goodness, you’ve slept through a lot, Frodo. I helped Estel make breakfast, and Thalguron didn’t understand second breakfast at all, and Halbarad got restless and wanted to sit outside for awhile, and Bilbo wanted to take a walk and Estel is with him, and...” He stopped for breath. “Are you feeling better? You still look a little green, but Bilbo said I shouldn’t worry too much.”

“Green, eh?” Frodo tried to smile. He felt exhausted, like he had run ten miles in his dreams... which tumbled through his memory as disjointed, strange images of trees and voices and things that were quickly fading. “I feel... tired, but not too bad.” He frowned. “Was I as sick as I remember?”

“You sure were,” Merry replied. “I heard you throwing up, but then I think I fell back to sleep.” His eyes grew wide. “Do you remember trying to run away? Thalguron had to grab you, and Scamp was really mad.” He peered at his cousin. “Where were you going?”

Frodo tried to remember everything. “I recall getting really dizzy in the parlor, then feeling like I had to go back to the Old Forest. I had to go back. It was really strange. I don’t remember too much after that, just... really odd dreams.”

“Well,” Merry said with relief, “you’re better now. I don’t like it when you’re sick, Frodo. You’re not supposed to ever be sick.”

“I’m sorry I frightened you,” Frodo said softly. He knew that Merry worried about him, living all alone with Bilbo at Bag End without a big family to look after him. “What are you drawing?” he asked, feeling a need to change the subject.

“Thalguron’s making a really nice set of crutches for Halbarad,” Merry said, hopping back onto the stool at the desk. “I helped him find some branches, and they said I could decorate them if I wanted to after he finished carving them. I’m trying to figure out what to draw.”

“How about trees?” Frodo asked, trying to sit up, then deciding it wasn’t that good an idea. “It will remind Halbarad of the Forest he was so eager to see.”

“Trees...” Merry pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and bent over it. “Let’s see...”

“What is it?” Halbarad asked softly. He sat under one of the large shade trees in the spacious front yard of Crickhollow, relieved to be under the wide sky once again. Thalguron sat next to him, shaping a crutch with his sharp knife from a long, sturdy, forked branch. Halbarad, his broken ankle tightly splinted and wrapped, and propped up on a pillow, worked at stripping the bark from a second branch.

“Aragorn is too trusting of the Shirefolk,” Thalguron murmured. He watched his captain and Bilbo walking together a short distance away, with Scamp rolling about in the grass nearby. He frowned as Aragorn knelt next to the hobbit and showed Bilbo his sword hilt; both were talking at a great rate, and Bilbo seemed to be taking notes.

“So that is why you said your foster-father named you ‘Hope’,” Bilbo was saying. He gazed at the ranger in understanding. “You carry a heavy burden, Estel... and a noble legacy. I will keep your secret.”

“I know,” Aragorn smiled. “And now that I have answered your questions... do you wish to discuss your concerns about Frodo? I know his words from this morning were quite upsetting for you.”

“He’s always known that I am much older than his other relatives. Why did it bother him suddenly?” Bilbo sighed. “Frodo’s parents drowned, you know, in the Brandywine -- a boating accident. I think he must fear that someday I might not be here for him -- that I will suddenly leave him, as his parents did.”

“I suppose that every child has those fears,” Aragorn said gently. “Frodo has more cause than many to be cautious about feeling fully safe and secure. He certainly trusts you, and knows that you love him.” He grew thoughtful. “Sharing memories with trees -- whatever their age -- must have been quite a wonderful experience for him... nothing but endless time, and slow growth, and harmony amongst so many living things...” He smiled at the hobbit. “Do not worry, Bilbo; Frodo is just a normal boy... with extraordinary gifts.”

“Bilbo!” Merry’s high, excited voice suddenly called out from the bedroom’s open window. “Frodo’s awake! Can he eat, now?”

Aragorn suddenly realized that Thalguron was gazing suspiciously at Bilbo. “Go on, I’ll join you in a moment.”

As Bilbo returned to the house, Aragorn walked over to the tree under which the brothers sat. “What troubles you, Thalguron?” he asked firmly.

“Forgive me, Captain, for it is not my affair,” Thalguron said softly. “Why do you reveal so much to these hobbits? What if you choose the wrong ears in which to confide?”

“Bilbo Baggins is a most unique person,” Aragorn said, settling into the grass next to them. “He has achieved and experienced things you do not realize, and has shown himself to be a person of very high quality.”

“Yes, there is; yet there is much you both still need to understand about why we safeguard these lands,” Aragorn said quietly. “Gandalf has entrusted the Shire and its inhabitants to those he trusts the most. We must also learn to recognize trust when it is given to us, even by the most unlikely of people.”

“Bilbo has entrusted me with one of his greatest treasures, more than once -- Frodo’s health and safety,” Aragorn said quietly. “That boy is quite special, my friends -- more than you know -- and trust from the trustworthy is one of the highest forms of respect.” He smiled. “I hope you leave here with a greater understanding of these folk, and what they mean to me. Gandalf has not asked us to devote our time to the Shire on a whim, believe me. And now... I must see how Frodo is faring.” He took a deep breath of the fresh air. “We may bring him out here to rest with you, Halbarad. Would you mind?”

“Not at all,” Halbarad said with a smile. “He and I have shared a most unique experience; I would be greatly interested in hearing what he remembers, and letting him know that the worst is over.” He closed his eyes for a moment as pain from his ankle flared up.

“I know the pain is severe,” Aragorn said. “I will ride to a populous dwelling after I check on Frodo, to assure Merry’s family that he is well; it is but a few miles from here. I hope to bring back some medicines that will make you more comfortable.”

“Captain,” Halbarad blurted out suddenly, “please do not dismiss me from your Company.”

“I disobeyed orders by leaving my patrol,” Halbarad said, feeling ashamed. “I told no one where I was going, and put lives in danger by doing so. We have caused these hobbits great inconvenience, and...”

Aragorn nodded. “Everything you say is true, Halbarad; however...” he motioned to the young man’s broken ankle. “I believe you have learned a great lesson about impulsive behavior and its consequences.”

“Frodo asked us what we would do if Aragorn was a poor leader,” Thalguron said thoughtfully, watching their Captain walk back to the house. “I do not think we will ever need to wonder about that. Do you?”

“That is quite good,” Bilbo said admiringly. “You have an artist’s touch, my lad.” Merry beamed under his cousin’s praise of his drawings. Bilbo ruffled the boy’s curls, then gave his attention to Frodo.

“What a strange night,” Frodo said wonderingly, as Bilbo sat next to him on the bed. “I wanted to return to the Forest ever so badly, but I don’t quite remember why.”

“Do you remember being there?” Bilbo asked curiously. “Estel and I took you on Arthad, and when you feel asleep, brought you back. You slept very deeply, but woke up rather ill for a time.”

“I don’t really remember too much about it,” Frodo shook his head. “Just strange dreams about trees and storms and getting sick on a boat...”

“Estel believes that the trees called you back to them,” Bilbo explained. “You wandered in dreams until you returned to us.”

“Halbarad described the same thing, upon waking in the Forest,” Aragorn said, entering the room. “We believe that you are over the worst of it, Frodo. Those thorns seem to have had quite a potent effect.” He looked down at the boy. “I am sorry you had such a bad experience, little one,” he said sadly.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Frodo said firmly. “If Merry hadn’t found Thalguron, and if we hadn’t gone into the Forest with Scamp, Halbarad might still be lost out there! Everything worked out just fine!” He tried to sit up again. “I’m still a little dizzy,” he apologized as Aragorn steadied him.

“A day of rest is in order,” Bilbo said briskly. “Would you like to sit outside with Thalguron and Halbarad? It’s a truly lovely day.”

“It’s nearly time for elevenses, but I suspect we can find you some crumbs,” Bilbo laughed.

“Merry,” Aragorn said to the boy, “I’m riding to Brandy Hall to let your family know that you are well and will be home in a few days... unless you wish to return now?”

“Bilbo didn’t think so,” Aragorn smiled. “While I am there, do you want me to return the gate key to your father? I would tell him how fortuitous it was that you had it with you.”

Merry looked hopeful for a moment, then dropped his eyes. “No,” he whispered. “I took it, and I should return it.”

Aragorn was impressed by the child’s sense of responsibility. He reached into a pocket, withdrew the key, and handed it to Merry. “Keep it with you, then.” He stood up. “I should return in a few hours, Bilbo.”

“Estel, I found something in the Forest that I need to show you,” Frodo said suddenly. “I forgot all about it until now. Maybe your men might like to see it, too.”

“As soon as I return, we will closely examine what you found, Frodo, and have a good talk about last night.” Aragorn smiled, and bent to give the boy a hug. “I am overjoyed to see you feeling better.”

Saradoc Brandybuck hurried to the entryway of Brandy Hall when he received news of the visitor.

“Sir? I am called Strider, also known to your cousins Bilbo and Frodo as Estel,” Aragorn said, bowing formally to the hobbit before him. “At your service.” The hobbit appeared dressed for travel, and a pony bearing several packs stood nearby in the courtyard -- next to a finely-appointed carriage, which looked familiar.

“And I am at yours, and your family’s,” Saradoc said, bowing in turn. “Frodo has spoken of you, Estel.” He grinned. “Apparently, you made quite an impression on young Pippin Took, as well. I have heard nothing but good things about you.”

”Pippin is a lively lad,” Aragorn said with a grin. “He is as unforgettable as Frodo... and your son, Merry, whom I have now also met.”

“Have you?” Saradoc motioned to a nearby bench, where they both sat. “Do you come from Crickhollow?” He suddenly tensed. “Is everything all right there?”

“There is no cause for worry,” Aragorn assured him. He gave Saradoc a brief explanation of what had transpired since the previous morning. “I assure you that Merry is well, and in no danger. I hope you will not chastise him too severely for taking the gate key -- he has impressed us very much with his maturity and manners.”

“Thank you,” Saradoc smiled. They spoke for awhile, and Aragorn got the distinct impression that the Master of the Hall was sizing him up -- and making up his mind about this unkempt Ranger in his courtyard. He easily recognized where Merry got his intelligence and quick thinking.

After a few minutes, Saradoc looked up at the Ranger speculatively. “Are you returning to Crickhollow, or continuing on?”

“At Bilbo’s invitation, and with your permission, my men and I will be staying at the guest house for several days,” replied Aragorn. “Halbarad is not yet ready to travel.”

“Interesting...” Saradoc grinned suddenly. “As you can see, my pony is saddled; I was going to visit there today, to bring the lads some supplies... and a visitor. Perhaps you can spare me a trip?”

“A moment sir; I have a favor to ask of you, as well.” Aragorn pulled a small bag from a pouch at his waist. “If you can spare them, I wish to purchase several herbs and tonics from your stores; Halbarad is in great pain, and what I have been able to prepare for him is not--”

“Your coin is no good here,” Saradoc said firmly. “Our debt to the Rangers is beyond repayment; whatever we have, is yours.”

“You honor me,” Aragorn said quietly. “Let me explain what I need, and--” He grinned suddenly at a small figure bounding toward him. “Well, well, well,” he chuckled. “What have we here?”

“He looks as shaky as you did, brother,” Thalguron said. He quickly got to his feet, and hurried to the front door of the house where Frodo was emerging, supported by Bilbo and Merry.

“I can walk,” Frodo was insisting as Thalguron reached him. “Just... not this fast.”

“Halbarad was equally weak after his night enspelled,” Thalguron said, crouching in front of Frodo. “If you will permit it, I will carry you to him – my brother is most anxious to hear of your experience.”

“I don’t remember too much, but I’d enjoy talking with him,” Frodo nodded. “I’ve hardly had a chance to get to know him.”

Thalguron lifted Frodo, and carried him gently to where Halbarad sat beneath the tree. Scamp raced over with a stick in her mouth.

“The parlor is all straightened,” Frodo said, as Thalguron sat him down next to his brother. “Why did you clean up, when you’ll be sleeping there again tonight?”

“Force of habit,” Halbarad laughed. “Rangers are used to covering their tracks, and leaving little trace of their camp. We will just have to reconstruct our ‘campsite’ again this evening.” He smiled down at the boy. “Have you eaten?”

“Hardly anything!” Merry declared, plopping down on the grass next to them. “But Cousin Bilbo gave him a good bath, and then--”

“Merry!” Frodo cried out, blushing. He threw the stick, and Scamp took off after it.

“What’s the matter?” Merry asked. “You needed a bath, Frodo. You were all sweaty when you woke up.”

“That is good,” Halbarad reassured the embarrassed tween. “I doubt either of us wish to repeat our strange experience.”

“I--” Halbarad stopped talking as all three hobbits suddenly looked toward the lane. After a moment, he and Thalguron also heard the sound of hoofbeats, and then Aragorn came into view on Arthad – bearing a small, cloaked bundle in front of him.

“We are small to your eyes,” Bilbo said, “but not without defenses. I doubt even a Ranger could take a hobbit by surprise.”

Frodo grinned from ear to ear, and Scamp suddenly abandoned the game of ‘fetch’ and ran to greet the visitors.

“We have to return him in the morning,” Aragorn said with a smile, lifting the small figure down. “But until then, he’s all yours.”

AlabrithGaiamoon: Sorry, I gave Gandalf his unexpected visit (twice!) in “Quarantined”!

Amy: Scamp is definitely enjoying all this attention from everyone... and she’s earned it!

Andrea: I hope you approve of the way Pippin arrived at Crickhollow! He definitely couldn’t get all the way there on his own.

aprilkat: I think I’ve given Scamp all the ‘watchdog’ qualities of my own childhood pup.

Baggins Babe: I think Frodo deserves a loving, loyal, sweet doggie like Scamp. :D

cuthalion: Poor Frodo... but on the other hand, in this universe, he always gets bushels of TLC just when he really needs it.

eiluj: Sorry, I gave Gandalf his unexpected visit (twice!) in “Quarantined”!

InuEnki: Gandalf does tend to show up around “chaos and mischief”, doesn’t he? I like that.

Larner: Yes, I somehow avoided the whole “paper training the puppy” scene in “Reflections of the Past”!

Lily: Frodo’s dreams were rather frightening, but he gets to wake up to lovely TLC.

Lily Baggins: Isn’t sleepy, semi-delirious Frodo just so very... (sighs with you)

lindahoyland: I don’t think Aragorn can conceal his “kingly” side all the time. It just has to slip out now and then.

lovethosehobbits: When I do write angst, it absolutely must be followed by puppies... or at least loads of TLC.

Pearl Took: Chapter 8 was very difficult to write... how would trees communicate? Thank you so much for your kind words.

Periantari: I’m happy, too, when Frodo is safe in the arms of someone he loves, and who loves him. It’s a feeling we all need more often!

SlightlyTookish: I couldn’t give my favorite hobbits anything less than a nearly-perfect puppy.

Tigger: I wish my own childhood dog had been as intelligent as Scamp! But she was very loving.

Whispering Darkness: I’m so glad you’re enjoying the “Quarantined” universe all over again!

“Elves began it, of course, waking trees up and teaching them to speak and learning their tree talk.” ‘Treebeard’, The Two Towers

A very excited Pippin ran to Merry, laughing as his older cousin whirled him around.

“Did you really?” Merry asked, settling the tot in his arms. “Did you help Estel ride all the way here?”

“Mm hm,” Pippin murmured. He had suddenly realized that Frodo was sitting between two strangers... two really big strangers. He clung tighter to Merry.

“It’s all right, Pip,” Frodo said with a smile. “This is Halbarad and Thalguron. They’re... Estel’s cousins, the way we’re cousins, and you and Merry are cousins.” He had no idea how the two men were related to Aragorn, but Thalguron had told him that all the Rangers were kin, in one way or another. Aragorn nodded in approval as he took down several bulging packs attached to Arthad’s saddle.

“Oh.” Pippin eyed the two brothers, who had been staring at him. First a tiny pup, and now a tiny halfling... Thalguron wondered what else might pop out of the grass unexpectedly.

“Are you huwt?” Pippin asked suddenly. He slid down from Merry’s arms and came over to Halbarad. He studied the man’s foot intently, fascinated by the large, bare toes, and splinted and wrapped ankle. “Do you need a nap?”

“He does need a nap,” Aragorn chuckled, coming to join the small group under the tree. He held several bags and packets. “Halbarad, Merry’s father very generously gave me the herbs and tonics I need. I’ll be in the kitchen, preparing something for you.”

“Thank you,” Halbarad said. He met Pippin’s eyes. “Hello, little one. I am Halbarad.”

“Halbawad,” Pippin repeated. Halbarad braced himself as Pippin touched one of his toes with a finger, but the touch was as gentle as a buttercup.

“Pippin’s mother and father were visiting Brandy Hall, and Pippin was quite distressed to find Merry gone,” Aragorn explained. “Merry, your father was about to bring him out here for a visit when I arrived.”

“You must have impressed Paladin and Eglantine, Estel.” Bilbo hugged Pippin hello, and grinned up at Aragorn. “They are not known for entrusting their only son to someone they barely know.”

“I was truly honored by their trust,” Aragorn said, “especially as I had spoken with them so briefly at Bag End.” He looked at Bilbo and Frodo gravely. “Merry’s family says that you have both spoken well of me. Thank you.” He bowed slightly, then smiled. “And it certainly helped that Pippin was so happy to see me, and showed no fear.” He set Pippin’s small carpetbag down on the grass, and Scamp immediately began to inspect it.

“Frodo,” Aragorn continued, “when I return with Halbarad’s tea, we can have that talk. I know you’re anxious to show us your discovery.” He looked closely at Frodo, who appeared tired, but much less pale. The boy’s eyes were sparkling; Pippin’s enthusiastic arrival obviously delighted him.

“I’ll go with you to the kitchen, Estel; I need to start lunch,” Bilbo said. “Merry, I could use your help.”

“I will assist you, as well,” Thalguron said. He set aside the crutch which he was shaping and smoothing, and got to his feet. “I’ve been lazing out here long enough. It is nice to meet you, Pippin,” he said, smiling down at the boy before accompanying Bilbo and Merry to the house.

“Fwodo,” Pippin said, snuggling down next to his cousin, “do you need a nap, too? You look sleepy.”

“I do feel sleepy,” Frodo admitted. “Maybe we can nap together after lunch.”

Frodo grinned. “Merry will take you to see them later, Pip. They live in the stream near here.”

“No ducks this time,” Frodo laughed, hugging his young cousin. “Just fwogs.”

Pippin suddenly leaped to his feet, and took off across the lawn after Scamp – who was racing away with a stuffed toy that she had pulled from Pippin’s bag. Frodo and Halbarad watched as the pup, recognizing a new and exciting game, darted back and forth just out of the giggling child’s reach.

“It’s because he’s a Took,” Frodo explained. “You won’t even notice it after awhile.” The Ranger looked unconvinced.

Aragorn soon emerged from the house bearing a steaming cup. Frodo wrinkled up his nose at the strange smell, but Halbarad gratefully drank down the tea, which was less bitter than he had feared.

“I didn’t want to sweeten it with all that honey,” Aragorn teased his friend, “but Bilbo insisted.”

“Pip,” Frodo called out, “pretend you’re not interested in getting your toy back. Just walk away, and Scamp will probably bring it right to you.”

When Bilbo, Thalguron, and Merry reappeared bearing trays of sandwiches and fruit, they found Pippin triumphantly clutching his slightly soggy toy, and chattering away to Halbarad, Frodo, and Aragorn about ducklings, ponies, and the new piglets that had been born at his father’s farm. Scamp had moved on to a new pursuit – digging happily away near the woodpile.

As the merry luncheon progressed, Aragorn was relieved to see that Frodo finished his sandwich -- but from Bilbo’s frown, it was obvious that the lad normally ate a great deal more. When everyone appeared to have eaten their fill, Bilbo leaned over and touched a gentle hand to Frodo’s face.

“I’m fine,” Frodo insisted, sighing when Aragorn also felt his brow. “I’m just a little sleepy, that’s all.”

“You still have a very slight fever, my boy,” Bilbo said. “It’s time for more rest.”

“I am resting,” Frodo insisted. “I want to show everyone what I found near the bones.”

“Not exactly, Pip,” Frodo said softly. He didn’t explain further, but drew the star clasp from his pocket. “Scamp’s really the one who found this.”

“This is of ancient design,” Thalguron murmured, taking the heirloom from Frodo to examine. He held it reverently for a moment, then passed it to Halbarad.

“It is mithril,” Aragorn told them. “Frodo, you discovered a rare treasure from the very distant past. The man who wore that clasp was noble and true, and is worthy of remembrance.” He then proceeded to tell the group something of what the trees had related to him about the man who had fallen in the Old Forest, and their request to be respected.

“I told you all that?” Frodo asked, wide eyed. “I don’t remember anything after leaving the house except whispers... and strange dreams.”

“The trees assured Bilbo and me that you were not being harmed by their communication, little one,” Aragorn said gently. “I am relieved that you do not remember – the memories the trees related were vivid, and quite sad.”

Thalguron noticed that Halbarad was beginning to have trouble staying awake, and guided his brother to lie down.

“Come on, Pip,” Merry said, drawing his young cousin to his feet. “I’ll show you the stream, and we can make some leaf boats.” He lifted his young cousin onto his shoulders, then started toward the glade where he, Frodo, and Bilbo had been camping out.

“Out here,” Frodo yawned, curling up next to Halbarad. Bilbo smiled, and he and Aragorn began to gather up what was left of their luncheon.

Frodo looked up into the branches of the large, shady tree under which they had picnicked. “Do you think it knows we’re here?” he asked suddenly.

“Perhaps,” Aragorn mused. “I do not believe that all trees are fully awake, or able to communicate as did those in the Old Forest; however, who is to say what this one comprehends, or thinks of us?”

Frodo reached out and lay a gentle hand against the rough bark of the tree. “Thank you for your shade, and for allowing us to rest here,” he whispered.

Long after Frodo and Halbarad had fallen asleep, Thalguron sat nearby, finishing the crutches and thinking hard about everything Frodo had said... and what Aragorn had related about the trees’ memories and awareness. It was true that Halbarad’s impulsive action had resulted in injury and pain, and inconvenience to these Shirefolk, but it was also bringing both of them a new understanding of the beings with whom they shared Middle-earth. The hobbits were much different than he had imagined. And as for the trees... could they somehow be aware? All of them? Feeling a bit foolish, he, too, touched the tree, and bowed his head slightly... before leaving Frodo and Halbarad to their sleep.

Ainu Laire: Yes, I fear the fluff is beginning to take over. I don’t know why I’m always so surprised when it happens.

Amy: Yes, those poor Rangers! They’ve fought many a fierce enemy and won, but there is no defense against fluffy hobbits and puppies.

Anargil: You’ll have to make do with three of your four favorite hobbits. Sorry I can’t produce Sam for you!

Andrea: I’m glad Merry is coming across as somewhat protective, even at such a young age.

Anso the Hobbit: I agree! What could be more cheery on a crutch than a sweet drawing (or several) from a sweet hobbit?

Auntiemeesh: I’m not sure I could ever write a story where Frodo is long-suffering. The fun, for me, is quickly getting to the ‘comfort’ part of ‘hurt/comfort’.

Elwen: Poor Frodo (and the others) definitely deserve warm sunshine, cuddles, and all the TLC they can handle.

Heartofahobbit: Thank you so much. I’m very gratified to hear you say that Saradoc’s reaction to Aragorn seemed plausible. That was a very delicate scene to write.

Larner: Yes, I’ll leave the potty/paper training to those more courageous than myself!

Lily: It’s fun to write Merry both as a mature, responsible lad, but also as a 12-year-old who blurts out what he’s thinking – like his cousin looking green!

lindahoyland: I enjoyed writing the ‘suspicious rangers’ – I suspect that they would take very seriously the notion that Aragorn’s identity might be known by the wrong people.

lovethosehobbits: There was no way the Rangers would leave Crickhollow without appreciating and loving hobbits!

Mariole: It’s intriguing to find and write about subtle differences between one Ranger and another, or between the hobbits, or even trees! They’re all learning about one another, and themselves.

moothril: Thank you for your lovely words. I’m happy you discovered this new story.

Pip4: Yes, we’re veering into “cute” mode, aren’t we? I just couldn’t help myself.

SlightlyTookish: I never planned for Pippin to be in this story... how did he sneak in? And thank you for enjoying Aragorn and Saradoc’s meeting. I thought a lot about how they might speak with one another.

smalldiver: It’s definitely fun seeing Pippin through the eyes of the Rangers!

Tigger: We certainly can’t forget the ‘Tookish accent’! That’s part of the fun of having Pippin meet new people. “And the education of Rangers to trust the Shire continues”... indeed, that’s very nearly the theme for this whole series of stories: mutual trust.

Whispering Darkness: I’m glad you were so delighted with our little visitor!

This chapter references “Quarantined”, chapters 3, 6 and 15, and “Reflections of the Past”, chapter 6.

As they listened, they began to understand the lives of the Forest, apart from themselves, indeed to feel themselves as the strangers where all other things were at home. ‘In the House of Tom Bombadil’, The Fellowship of the Ring

When Frodo awoke, the air was cooler, and through the trees’ branches he could see that the sky had clouded over. Halbarad was gone, as were the new crutches, and Frodo assumed that someone had helped the injured Ranger back to the house. He looked up at Aragorn, sitting next to him.

“Not this time.” Frodo sat up slowly, relieved that he no longer felt dizzy. “What time is it?”

“Nearly suppertime, according to your cousins.” Aragorn smiled down at the boy. “I was just about to wake you.”

The Ranger laughed. “Pippin had a wonderful time with the ‘fwogs’; so much so, he and Merry came back covered in mud. Bilbo sent them straight to the bathing room.”

“Let’s see... There was a rather long game of hide-and-seek, then Merry settled down to draw a lovely miniature forest on one of Halbarad’s crutches. Pippin asked to draw something as well, and Halbarad said that he could.”

“The lad already has my men wrapped about his finger. He does not wish to leave tomorrow, but I promised his parents I would return him.”

“Where’s the other horse?” Frodo asked. Arthad stood patiently nearby, but Thalguron’s horse was missing.

“Thalguron will return soon,” Aragorn explained. “We’ve been taking turns looking around.”

“Rangers are always on duty, aren’t they?” Frodo asked thoughtfully. “They’re like the Bounders.”

“I have spoken with several of your ‘Bounders’,” Aragorn said, referring to the hobbits who helped keep undesirable people and animals from the Shire. “They seem very dedicated.”

“Like you,” Frodo nodded. “What will Halbarad do while his ankle is healing?”

“Thalguron is going to take him home, and deliver him to their mother for a few weeks,” Aragorn chuckled. “I know her very well; she will see to it that he rests.”

Aragorn looked down at the boy. “Middle-earth is my home,” he replied quietly. “But a home – such as you have found with Bilbo – no, perhaps not. I find refuge in Rivendell, when I have need of rest.”

“Why isn’t it tarnished after so long?” Frodo asked. “Silver has to be polished all the time.”

“Mithril is a very rare metal,” Aragorn explained. “The Dwarves delve deeply for it, and it is much prized.” He turned the heirloom over and over in his hands. “It is much more rare now than it was in Ages past.”

It was exciting to have found such a treasure... but Frodo could see how much his friend valued it.

“That is a most kind offer, little one,” Aragorn said, touched by the boy’s generosity, “but this belongs to you. However...” he looked thoughtful. “I would very much like Lord Elrond to see it, and perhaps tell me what he knows or remembers of the events that occurred in the Old Forest.”

“Think of Arminas,” Aragorn gently reminded the boy of the Elf who had come to visit Bag End. “There are Elves of great age among us still.”

“I know, but...” Frodo knew that Elves lived a long time, but he had not thought of Elrond, whom Bilbo had met – and who had raised Aragorn as his son – as someone ancient and legendary. “How old is he?”

“Very old,” Aragorn said gravely. “He remembers the Age before this, and the one before that. His wisdom is great, and his memory long.”

“No,” Aragorn smiled. “His hair is dark as the night sky, and his face still quite youthful.”

“So I understand,” Aragorn said quietly. He wondered if Frodo remembered how, in his delirium, he had suddenly asked Bilbo about his age. “Does it concern you greatly? Bilbo remains as vigorous and full of life as any hobbit I’ve met.”

“I know,” Frodo said with a small smile. “He’s just amazing, isn’t he? It’s just that... I can’t help thinking about things… sometimes.”

“Of course you can’t,” Aragorn reassured him. “You and Bilbo have a wonderful relationship, Frodo. Don’t hesitate to talk with him, or let him know your fears. He wouldn’t want you to hide your feelings or concerns from him.”

“I don’t want him to worry about me,” Frodo said, absently plucking up blades of grass.

“Do you remember what I told you, years ago when you were ill? We always worry about those we love; there’s nothing you can do to prevent that.”

“I know.” Frodo stood up and stretched. “Please find out what Lord Elrond can tell you about the clasp. Besides,” he grinned, “if you borrow it, you have to return it sometime, and we’ll get to see you again.”

“I’m starving,” Frodo suddenly announced. A sudden gust of wind ruffled his hair. “Is a storm coming up?”

Frodo wriggled his bare feet in the cool grass. “Don’t you ever take those off?” he asked, frowning at Aragorn’s boots.

“Only when I sleep,” Aragorn replied, “and not always then. But this night, I don’t dare let them out of my sight until after a certain hobbit lad and pup are asleep.” Aragorn chuckled at Frodo’s puzzled look. “When I returned from patrol, the game of hide-and-seek had become a frantic search for Pippin. He had chosen a most excellent hiding place -- one of Halbarad’s boots -- and one guess as to who finally found him.”

“We were able to rescue it,” Aragorn laughed, getting to his feet. “Pippin was delighted at having been able to hide from Merry for so long, but I suspect that hunger would have driven him to abandon the game eventually.”

“The last I saw, she was quite busy -- supervising in the kitchen. Pippin and Merry are helping with supper, and Scamp quickly discovered that your young cousins will ‘accidentally’ drop morsels of food on occasion.”

“I can’t imagine where they learned such a thing,” Frodo shook his head in mock astonishment. “Certainly not from me.”

By the time the skies darkened and the storm broke, everyone had gathered in the parlor, sitting together on the floor in front of a warm fire -- laughing, talking, and eating. Supper was a thick stew, complemented by platters of fresh vegetables, bread, and a variety of pies Aragorn had brought from Merry’s mother.

Declaring that Bilbo had hardly had a proper rest in days, Frodo insisted on cleaning up... although it only took a soft word from Bilbo to have Merry scurrying into the kitchen to help his elder cousin with the washing up.

It was a pleasant evening, with stories and songs in front of the hearth, and a sleepy Pippin being carried to bed by Frodo. A yawning Merry soon stumbled away to his own bed, and after seeing to it that the Rangers would spend a comfortable night on the parlor floor, which had been covered once again in thick, soft bedding, Frodo and Bilbo bid them goodnight.

After brewing another dose of the painkilling and mildly sedating tea for Halbarad, Aragorn and Thalguron sat for awhile, talking quietly and listening to the rain as it pattered on the roof. It was a rare treat to be indoors on such a night. Thalguron began whittling several small objects, the sight of which made Aragorn smile.

Before turning in, Aragorn made one last check of the horses. When he came back inside, shaking out his wet cloak, he looked up the hallway and saw that Thalguron was standing quietly just outside Frodo’s bedroom.

“Is everything all right?” Aragorn asked, joining his friend at the partially-opened door.

“Look,” Thalguron said softly, pointing into the room. By the dim lamplight next to the bed, the two men could see that the bed was crowded with sleeping hobbits. Although Merry and Pippin had their own rooms, they had both ended up in Frodo’s -- in a peaceful, sleeping pile of cousins. Scamp, curled up next to Frodo’s face and washing her fur, looked up at the men and thumped her tail.

Aragorn smiled, remembering Gandalf’s words to him just days after meeting Frodo for the first time.

“That is the Shire, Aragorn --- that child. That trust, that innocence, that gentle, simple life. This is what I have asked you to guard and preserve.”

“Now you know, Thalguron,” Aragorn said. “The hobbits are very special. I swore to Gandalf that the Dúnedain would protect the Shire from intrusion. I promised him that this land would be kept safe, and the hobbits know only peace.”

Thalguron nodded. “I am very glad we came here, Captain,” he said. “These few days have taught me much.”

“There is no visit to these folk that does not teach me something new,” Aragorn smiled. “I suspect it will always be so.”

Ainu Laire: Aragorn is so stern with you in your reviews! But it’s easy to see how fond of you he is.

Amy: I think we all need to curl up on that lawn and nap with the hobbits and Rangers. I know which Ranger you’ll curl up next to!

Anargil: I’m so happy you like Pippin’s ‘fwogs’! I really loved writing that part.

Andrea: I was hoping to show how much the Rangers are being influenced (for the good) by the hobbits – I’m glad it’s coming across.

Anso the Hobbit: Yes, Pippin has everyone charmed! It’s that Tookish adorableness.

Baggins Babe: How does Pippin sneak in like that? A most ingenious young lad. I’m so glad you’re enjoying this.

Elwen: Yes, this certainly did turn into a tree-huggy story. It’s nice to explore the ‘gentler’ side of the grim Rangers.

girlofring: I love trees, and not enough people treat them with courtesy and respect.

kittythorn: I’m so happy you’re enjoying these stories, Kitty; it brings me great joy to write and share them.

Larner: Yes, I’m sure Thalguron and Halbarad were quite amazed and impressed when the sweet ‘halflings’ they met ended up saving Middle-earth from the Shadow.

Lily Baggins: Thank you, Lily. And yes, I do tend to live vicariously through all this hobbity archaeology!

lindahoyland: I suspect that Frodo is definitely well again. He needs to enjoy the rest of the Rangers’ visit.

lovethosehobbits: I hope your coming trip is as peaceful and restful for you as this post-illness experience is for Frodo!

Meethrill: You predicted Aragorn’s wish to share the ancient pin with Elrond. Well done!

pebbles66: Thank you so much for commenting on Pippin’s speech. Toddlers often have trouble with their ‘r’ or ‘y’ or some other difficult consonant, don’t they?

Samantha: What a truly lovely thing to say. This whole universe feels like ‘home’ to me, and I love going back to it from time to time.

SlightlyTookish: I tend to write hobbity toddlers and children almost too sweet and polite, but the thought of hobbitlings like wee!Pippin just brings out the mushy side of me.

smalldiver: And I love writing about hobbits and rangers learning from one another.

The Hobbit Waffle: Odd what a fluffy turn this story took, isn’t it? Who’d have guessed that would happen?

Tigger: Pippin’s like a sensitive puppy, who senses when someone needs a cuddle (or a nap). I hope you’re feeling all better, Tigger! I’m so sorry to hear you were sick. I’ll have to send wee!Pip right over.

westwindschild: I don’t think I ever wrote about the Old Forest before, and it was a challenge to try to figure out a friendlier side to that rather ominous place.

Whispering Darkness: It’s nice to know that there’s a ‘universe’ where even the Rangers are fluffy! :D

This chapter references “Quarantined”, chapters 10 and 16

FORCE OF NATURE

Chapter 14 – Promises

At ninety-nine they began to call him ‘well preserved’; but ‘unchanged’ would have been nearer the mark. The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘A Long-Expected Party’

Pippin opened his eyes and wondered where he was. It took a moment to remember that he was visiting Frodo and Merry, and he wriggled with happiness at how much fun he was having. At his small movements, Scamp climbed up over him from where she had been lying at the foot of the bed, and began to lick his face.

“H’lo,” Pippin whispered. He hated to leave the warm bed, snuggled next to a still-sleeping Merry, but something smelled very breakfast-like, and he was curious to know what was going on in the rest of the house. He slid carefully out of his nest of blankets, and Scamp took his place, disappearing under the covers. Merry murmured something when the cold, wet nose burrowed under his hand, but didn’t wake. Pippin quickly dressed, and peeked out into the hallway.

“Good morning, little one.” Halbarad smiled to see the tiny lad race into the parlor, eager to begin the new day.

Pippin plopped down next to the Ranger, who still lay swathed in blankets on the floor.

“Mewwy’s still sleeping,” Pippin announced.

“Everyone else is up and about,” Halbarad told him. He tucked a bit of his blanket over the boy, and Pippin giggled and rolled up in it. “The rain has stopped, and Thalguron went for a short walk. Aragorn is in the---”

“Who?” Pippin scrunched up his nose in confusion.

Halbarad suddenly realized that this lad might not have been told his Captain’s name. “I am sorry, Pippin; I meant ‘Estel’.”

“Oh. I smell bweakfast.”

Halbarad smiled. “Estel is in the kitchen... and Frodo and Bilbo are out on the lawn.”

Pippin started to get up, but Halbarad shook his head. “I believe they wish some privacy for a quiet talk, Pippin. Let us not disturb them.”

“Pwivacy.” Pippin frowned at the new word, then got distracted by the sight of Halbarad’s crutches lying nearby. “Can I dwaw now?”

“Dwaw?” Halbarad was about to ask for a translation when Pippin squirmed out of the blankets and pulled over the un-decorated crutch. “Ah, you wish to draw your picture now? Like Merry did?”

Pippin shook his head. “Mewwy likes twees, but I want to dwaw ducks. And fwogs.”

*~*~*~*~*

Frodo brushed Thalguron’s horse a few more times while Bilbo stood by, wondering what had upset his boy so. Frodo had asked if they could talk about something important, but had hardly spoken since they came outside.

“Frodo---”

“I nearly ruined everything!” Frodo suddenly burst out. He looked close to tears.

“My dear boy, what do you mean?”

Frodo just sighed, and looked so miserable that Bilbo tried to distract him.

“You’re much more comfortable around these enormous beasts than you were,” Bilbo said gently, giving Daeron a pat. “Remember your first introduction to Arthad?”

Frodo smiled a little. “You mean Ollie, don’t you?”

“You’ve come a long way, my boy,” Bilbo said. “Can you talk about what’s bothering you?”

Frodo turned to face his uncle and took a deep breath. “I wanted to borrow your ring so no one would see me run back to the Forest,” he said, hanging his head. “Everyone would have found out, Bilbo! How can you ever trust me again?”

“Frodo,” Bilbo said softly, “you weren’t yourself that night, and you know it. You had a very powerful substance in your blood, which you could not fight. Halbarad could not fight it. You’re not to blame for what you almost did... the point is, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Frodo nodded, but still looked unhappy.

“Is there something else?” Bilbo encouraged.

“Bilbo...” Frodo gripped the brush tightly. “Why don’t you ever look any older?”

“I don’t know,” Bilbo said thoughtfully. “Perhaps it’s Took blood... Gerontius lived to be 131, you know.”

“Yes, but...” Frodo frowned. “You don’t look any older. Elves get older, and they don’t look it, either. How can a hobbit do that? What if you get older and older, then suddenly one day...”

Ah, Bilbo thought, here we are at last. And what do I tell him?

“I understand,” Bilbo said softly. He looked into the boy’s troubled blue eyes. “You fear that someday I will die of old age, and you won’t have had any warning.”

“Yes,” Frodo said, a tear runnning down his cheek. “Please don’t ever do that, Bilbo.”

“Frodo lad,” Bilbo said, wrapping his arms around the boy, “nothing is certain in this life. But please believe me – when my time comes to leave you, if there is any way for me to let you know beforehand, I will do so. I’m afraid that’s the best promise I can make.”

“I know,” Frodo whispered. He tried to smile at his uncle. “And perhaps you’ll live as long as an Elf... or beat Gerontius by many years.”

“Perhaps!” Bilbo laughed. “And perhaps you will, as well.” He wiped the tears from Frodo’s face. “Frodo lad, I may not have all the answers, but I hope you will never stop asking me questions.”

“No fear of that happening!” Frodo’s smile lit up his face. “I asked Estel so many questions yesterday, I’m amazed he didn’t run off and join the Bounders.”

“That’s my boy.” Bilbo laughed and gave the boy another hug, then took a deep breath of the fresh, rain-washed air.

“Now then, shall we see if your cousins are awake yet, and whether those greedy Rangers have left us any breakfast?”

“Estel is cooking, you know,” Frodo said as they walked back to the house.

“No need to look so frightened,” Bilbo laughed. “He’s come a long way, as well.”

*~*~*~*~*

“That’s very nice, Pippin,” Thalguron said encouragingly.

“Aren’t those wonderful ducks?” Halbarad asked, saving his brother from trying to identify the rather vague shapes which meandered up one side of the crutch and down the other.

“They certainly are,” Frodo declared, spearing another sausage. “Estel, I do believe you’ve turned into a first-rate cook.”

“High praise from a hobbit!” Aragorn laughed. He set aside his empty plate and looked over at Pippin. “It’s time to go, Pippin.”

“Don’t want to,” Pippin said, trying to hide behind Halbarad.

“I know you do not wish to leave, Pippin,” Halbarad said gently, settling the youngster into his lap. “I, too, must go home soon, and allow my ankle time to heal. I do not wish to leave my fellows, or my duties... but often we must do something we do not wish to do, because it is best.” He smiled down at the lad. “Do you understand?”

“I s’pose.” Pippin sighed. “Are you going home to your mummy, too?”

Thalguron grinned at his brother. “Yes, I’ll take him home tomorrow.”

“Do you miss her?”

“We both do,” Halbarad said seriously. “Do you miss yours?”

Pippin nodded. “But I like being with Mewwy and Fwodo, too.”

Halbarad gave the lad a hug. “You will see them again soon. Goodbye, little one. I am happy to have met you.”

“Me too.” Pippin touched one of the crutches with his toe. “Do you weally like my ducks?”

“I weally... I mean, I really do.”

Aragorn and Thalguron exchanged amazed glances; they had no idea Halbarad was so good with children.

Everyone went outside to see Pippin off. While Halbarad practiced walking about the yard with his new crutches, Aragorn tied Pippin’s bag of clothes and toys to Arthad’s saddle and waited patiently for the lad to say his goodbyes.

“Thalgwon is going to teach Mewwy twacking,” Pippin pouted. “I want to stay.”

“Tracking, eh?” Frodo asked. “Do you know what that is, Pip?”

Pippin shook his head. It didn’t matter; whatever it was, he didn’t want to miss it.

“Pip,” Merry said, catching up his young cousin in a hug, “whatever Thalguron teaches me, I’ll teach you, next time I see you.”

“Pwomise?”

“I promise.”

“I made you something, Pippin,” Thalguron said, crouching down to hand the boy one of the items he had carved the night before. Pippin squealed with delight at the tiny wooden duck.

“I am pleased you like it,” the Ranger chuckled. “And for your cousins...” He grinned at Frodo and Merry. “I will have their gifts ready before we leave tomorrow.”

“Come, my friend,” Aragorn said, mounting Arthad. Thalguron lifted the lad up to him. “You can help me ride, like you did yesterday.”

“I did help you!” Pippin beamed, looking quite proud.

“Estel,” Bilbo said, “tell Merry’s parents that Frodo and I will bring him home tomorrow, after you and your Men have gone.”

“Bye!” Pippin yelled as Aragorn nudged Arthad into a gentle walk.

“That youngster enjoys every experience as if he will not see another sunrise,” Thalguron marveled.

“We would all do well to do the same,” Bilbo replied, and everyone nodded in agreement.

** TBC **

One more chapter, I think!

Ainu Laire: Thank you, Suvi. I’m so happy these stories add some sweet fluff to your life.

Amy: I wish I could sneak us all into these picnics and hobbitpiles and snuggly times. I guess fanfic is as close as we can come!

Anargil: I honestly don’t know how I come up with any of this... but I hope it keeps coming.

Andrea: I find these stories as peaceful and calming to write, as others find them to read. Thank you so much.

Anso the Hobbit: Yes, I suspect that the Rangers have grown fond of all of these sweet hobbits.

Auntiemeesh: Wee!Pippin! He’s such a lovable tyke.

cuthalion: I do love hobbit fluff! (And all of your reviews did come through – thank you so much.)

EllyBaggins: I wish I could draw; I’d love to sketch tiny Pip peeking out of a Ranger’s big boot.

Elven Kitten: Thank you. Yes, cute is gooooood.

Frodo16424: Goodness, I can’t imagine Frodo ever spoiling Scamp with ‘accidentally dropped’ treats. What an odd notion. :D

grumpy: It’s such a pleasure for me to write about Frodo and Aragorn’s friendship. Thank you for enjoying it so much.

Larner: Thalguron hopes all the hobbits like his gifts!

Lily: I hope you enjoyed Frodo and Bilbo’s talk! The story has been leading up to it for a long time.

lindahoyland: Thank you. Yes, Frodo still has some fears about Bilbo, which I hope the conversation in this chapter begins to resolve.

lovethosehobbits: Thank you for highlighting that particular line, which is one of my very favorite things from “Quarantined”. Long live the Shire, and all of its wonderful folk.

Pearl Took: I actually had no idea Saradoc was going to be in the story until I was well into writing Chapter 11. It continues to awe me how these stories take on a life of their own.

Samantha: I’m trying very hard to weave into this ‘universe’ a growing respect and appreciation between hobbits and Rangers. Thank you for your kind words.

Sandy K: I haven’t written a story this sneaky since “Avalanche”, which I kept thinking was complete... until one more chapter (and then one more) demanded to be written.

SlightlyTookish: I think you’re enjoying wee!Pippin just as much as I am! I doubt these Rangers will ever forget this hobbity experience.

smalldiver: You can thank my mom for the “pile of sleeping hobbits” (and puppy). She thought the story needed something extra snuggly... and of course I was happy to oblige.

Tallis Keeton: Thank you so much. What a joy to share this happy series of stories.

The Hobbit Waffle: I’m so glad that chapter 13 made you giggly! It’s such fun to write a gentle, happy story.

Whispering Darkness: Yes, all good Ranger visits must come to an end, unfortunately.

This chapter references “Quarantined”, chapters 3 and 19. Bilbo’s poem is taken from FOTR.

Thank you for reading, my friends! And special thanks to Breon Briarwood, whose SOA review for Chapter 5 snuck an idea into my head… and into this chapter.

FORCE OF NATURE

Chapter 15 -- Leavetaking

But all the while I sit and think of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet and voices at the door.
The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘The Ring Goes South’

“You’re eager to be gone, aren’t you?” Bilbo asked Aragorn. They worked side by side in the kitchen, Bilbo at the stove and Aragorn sitting at the table, making sandwiches.

“I do not wish to seem ungrateful for your hospitality,” Aragorn admitted, “but you are correct, Bilbo. It is difficult for a Ranger to remain in one place for long.”

“And yet, if your destiny is fulfilled, you will be a Ranger no more,” Bilbo observed.

“Perhaps not,” Aragorn mused, “but wherever my path leads, I will do my best.”

“Where will you go from here?”

“Thalguron and I resume our patrol as soon as Halbarad has been safely taken to the village where his family lives. I would like us to leave tomorrow morning.” Aragorn prepared a final sandwich, and surveyed the mountain he had created. “Is this enough?”

“It should be,” Bilbo grinned. “You’re learning, my friend!”

“Bilbo,” Aragorn said quietly, “I have been wanting to tell you something. I am sorry Frodo became ill because of our visit... but am very proud of his willingness to assist us in locating Halbarad. Every time our paths cross, Frodo -- and you -- impress me more. Things might have gone ill for Halbarad had you, Frodo, and Merry not been here.”

“Our fortunes certainly seem to be entwined in a peculiar way,” Bilbo said. “You and Frodo bonded from the first day you met.” He stirred the afternoon soup thoughtfully. “Estel, it was very difficult for Saradoc and Esmeralda to entrust Frodo into my care, but they were able to see that I had only the boy’s best interests at heart... and that Frodo trusted me to look after him.” He turned to face the Ranger. “You, also, have only Frodo’s best interests at heart, and he trusts you. He always has.”

“I wonder where his fate will lead him,” Aragorn wondered.

“The influences in his life have been good ones. His parents, his relatives, me, you...” Bilbo smiled at the Ranger. “Whatever he chooses to do, I suspect that he will make choices that bring about the betterment of the Shire, and the safeguarding of those he loves – as your choices have done.”

“I would be honored to be any part of that remarkable boy’s future,” Aragorn said, rising to his feet. He picked up the tray of sandwiches. “I’ll take these to the parlor.”

“This has been a perilous visit,” Thalguron said, hungrily eyeing the tray his Captain set upon the parlor’s largest table. “Already I fear my tunic is less easy to fasten than it was just days ago.”

“Mother will be happy to see a bit of meat on us,” Halbarad chuckled, patting his own -- rather lean, to the hobbits’ eyes -- stomach. Frodo and Merry ran to get plates, bowls, spoons, and napkins, while Bilbo brought in a steaming pot of savory soup. Thalguron fetched juice for the boys, and mugs of ale for the adults, and soon the seven friends (Scamp’s bowl had been filled as well) were enjoying a merry meal.

“Are you leaving the hobbits any books at all?” Thalguron asked Halbarad, motioning to the piles of books stacked on the floor around his brother. The parlor shelves looked nearly empty.

“Perhaps a few!” Halbarad laughed. “Frodo and Bilbo have been kind enough to offer me enough to read to keep me occupied for the coming weeks. Regretfully, I must choose between these excellent stories and verses; we can only take what will fit in Daeron’s saddlebag.”

“Very clever, Frodo,” Aragorn said knowingly. “Not only do I need to bring back the clasp you found, but now Halbarad must return your books. Luring Rangers into your clutches again and again, I see.”

“That’s right,” Frodo said smugly, finishing his second bowlful of soup. “This is wonderful, Bilbo. I still have so much to learn about proper cooking.”

“It’s all in the spices, my lad,” Bilbo said proudly, “and giving things time to simmer and blend.”

“You cook nearly as well as my mother, Cousin Bilbo.” Merry declared, practically inhaling his soup.

“High praise indeed,” Bilbo smiled. “Estel, did you speak with Merry’s parents when you returned Pippin?”

“Indeed, I did. In fact, nearly the entire Hall turned out to welcome Pippin back,” Aragorn replied. “I suspect that many of them feared they would never see him again... kidnapped by Rangers, no doubt. Seeing the lad on such a large horse must have been quite an astonishing sight.” He turned to Merry with a smile. “He wanted me to remind you that you ‘pwomised’ to teach him ‘twacking’.”

“Shall we?” Merry asked Thalguron, his eyes shining. “I would love to learn.”

“Indeed we shall, my young friend,” Thalguron smiled, getting to his feet. “Frodo, would you like to join us?”

Frodo looked around at all the dishes and bowls. “I’d love to,” he sighed, “but---”

“Go on, little one,” Aragorn told him. “I have no gifts for our parting tomorrow, as Thalguron has prepared, but I can at least gift you with a few hours away from chores. I promise to do a good job.”

“You want to do the dishes?” Frodo asked, thunderstruck.

“If I can learn to cook, I can certainly learn to clean up!” Aragorn smiled.

“Thank you, Estel,” Bilbo said gratefully. “I believe I will take a nap while these youngsters are out and about. Halbarad, will you be all right on your own...” Bilbo’s voice trailed off and he smiled seeing that Halbarad had picked up a slim book of poetry, and was already engrossed in its contents. The young Ranger handed the book up to his brother and motioned for him to read from the open page.

“I sit beside the fire and think of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring that I shall ever see.
For still there are so many things that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring there is a different green.”

Thalbarad read the verses out loud. “The Shire contains some very gifted poets,” he said admiringly.

“It certainly does,” Frodo said proudly, “and Bilbo is the best of them all. He wrote that.”

“Bilbo, these verses are yours?” Aragorn asked curiously, taking the book and flipping through it. He smiled down at the old hobbit, and nodded approvingly. Perhaps the poem Bilbo planned to write about him would be of high value after all. “I look forward to hearing more of them someday.”

“I’m sure you shall, Estel,” Bilbo said with a twinkle in his eye. “I’m sure you shall.”

*~*~*~*~*

“See here?” Thalguron asked the boys crouching silently next to him. “You can see where the grass is flattened... and there, and there,” he pointed ahead of them. “The rain has made it easier to spot the tracks,” he continued, touching the grass still slightly damp from the night’s rain. “Can you guess what came by here?”

“The tracks are far apart,” Merry said, studying the grass. “Something large?”

“Or something fast,” Frodo ventured. “A bounding rabbit?”

“Exactly,” Thalguron smiled. “Was he alone? Can you see where he went?”

Thalguron spent the afternoon with the boys, who thoroughly enjoyed their lessons with the experienced and patient Ranger.

“Rangers notice details,” Thalguron said during a quiet moment under a tree. “Look about you. What draws your attention? Is a branch bent strangely, a bit of ground disturbed, birds silent when they should be singing? There are messages everywhere.”

“From the trees, as well,” Frodo added, looking up into the leafy branches. “I never thought much about them, before.”

“Nor I,” Thalguron said thoughtfully. He smiled and patted the tree, then stood up. “Time to return home, my friends.”

The little group returned to the house at sunset -- tired, grass stained, and hungry -- but laughing and singing. Frodo and Merry fell into bed right after supper, and both dreamed of forests -- green and silent -- where they walked together in wonder and delight.

*~*~*~*~*

After breakfast the next morning, the Rangers prepared to depart. Thalguron planned to deliver Halbarad to their home village before rejoining Aragorn, whom he would meet in Bree.

Bilbo and Frodo insisted on packing hampers of food for each Ranger. When Aragorn tried to protest, Bilbo would have none of it.

“Nonsense,” the old hobbit declared. “The more you take with you, the less we have to drag back to Brandy Hall. You don’t want our wagon to be overloaded, do you?”

“Heavens, no,” Thalguron said firmly, tying one of the hampers onto his saddle. “Are you trying to cause our friends more trouble, Captain?”

“Heavens, no,” Aragorn assured him with a smile. “Bilbo,” he continued, turning to the old hobbit, “we straightened the parlor and did what we could in the kitchen, but I hate the thought of leaving you and the boys to clean up the rest of the house by yourselves.”

“Thank you, Estel,” Bilbo smiled, “but we need only load the wagon with our clothes, some perishables, and a few supplies we brought with us. It is only three miles to Brandy Hall, as you know; Merry’s father will send a small army out here to clean up, and prepare the house for its next guests.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Aragorn smiled. With that, he walked over to the woodpile next to the house and reached behind it, pulling out several long, canvas-wrapped bundles.

“I wondered where you had hidden your weapons,” Frodo said, emerging from the house carrying several cloth-wrapped pies. “I’m glad Scamp didn’t bury them in one of her holes.” He looked around searchingly.

“She’s here,” Halbarad smiled, gazing down. Scamp lay next to him, nearly invisible in the long grass, chewing enthusiastically on a tangle of leather strips Halbarad had given to her.

“Crazy pup,” Frodo said fondly.

“I have something to say,” Merry said importantly, marching up to the three Rangers. “I understand that you were made an honorary Baggins, Estel.”

“That is true,” Aragorn replied, smiling at Bilbo.

“As the son of the Master of the Hall, and future Master of Buckland,” Merry announced, “I would like to declare your companions, Thalguron and Halbarad, as honorary Brandybucks.” With that, he bowed deeply before the Men.

“Meriadoc,” Halbarad said gravely, “Speaking for my brother and myself, we are honored.”

Thalbarad crouched in front of Merry. “Thank you, Merry. To mark this occasion, let me distribute the rest of my gifts.” He smiled and handed the boy an intricately carved leaf.

“Thank you!” Merry enthused. “It’s beautiful.”

“Frodo, this is for you,” Thalguron said with a sly grin, and presented the tween with a tiny replica of Scamp, complete with long ears and mischievous look.

“This is wonderful,” Frodo said, giving Thalguron a hug. “Thank you so much.”

“These small tokens are little enough for what you have all done for us,” the Ranger said. “And I have not forgotten our host...” With a smile, he handed Bilbo the last item he held – a small, beautiful star, similar in design to those on the Rangers’ cloaks. “My friend, we will safeguard your lands as attentively as you have safeguarded your grateful guests.” He rose to his feet, and the three Rangers – Halbarad somewhat awkwardly -- bowed to Bilbo, and then the two boys, who all bowed solemnly in return. Formalities at an end, Aragorn knelt and opened his arms, into which Frodo flew for a farewell hug.

“You wanted an Adventure, Merry my lad,” Bilbo said, putting his arm around the boy. “You got your wish.”

“It was wonderful,” Merry said happily. “When can we do it again?”

** END **

Ainu Laire: Thank you! I enjoy giving everyone (especially Halbarad) a peaceful, fluffy, well-fed adventure.

Amy: It’s been a fun slumber party, hasn’t it? I doubt those Rangers will ever be able to think of their ‘vacation’ without smiling.

Anargil: Sorry, no more TBC’s! Thank you so much for your enthusiasm, and I’m sure we’ll revisit this universe when the next fluffy idea strikes me.

Andrea: I think that Bilbo, at his age and after all he’s gone through, would be very straightforward... and yet diplomatic. It’s fun to imagine what he and Frodo would talk about.

Anso the Hobbit: I’m sure Merry would be a very good student, no matter what he studied. What a shame the films didn’t really show his competence and many abilities like the books did.

aprilkat: Thank you for all the reviews! What fun. It’s interesting to imagine how Aragorn’s men saw and thought about their Captain, and this was my first chance to explore it. And “cross-cultural understanding” is more or less the underlying theme of this whole ‘universe’. Thank you for letting me know it’s coming across.

Auntiemeesh: I didn’t know what Pippin would be drawing until he started! I’m glad Halbarad is as sweet natured as he is.

Baggins Babe: Oh dear, a fluff-stuffed computer! I hope you were able to clean it out (in time for the next relentless barrage of fluff).

cuthalion: I find it very revealing that Bilbo kept no secrets from Frodo – including his greatest secret of all, the Ring. I like to see him encouraging Frodo to confide in him, as well, and not keep everything bottled up inside.

Dreamflower: I do imagine Frodo as being unusually perceptive, especially given his unusual life and the dreams Tolkien writes him experiencing. It was interesting to bring it out in his conversation with Bilbo.

EllyBaggins: I don’t seem to be able to stay away from this universe for long, even when I think I’ve written everything I can possibly think of! Thank you for letting me know that you’re enjoying it so much.

Elven Kitten: Thank you. :D

Elwen: I wanted to get Frodo and Bilbo’s conversation “just right”, even though it was short. I’m very glad you liked it.

Endaewen: I don’t seem to be able to write really long stories... just lots of them!

harrowcat: Maybe you’re right -- I should start labeling my stories with more accurate ratings of L (“less fluff than usual”), N (“normal amounts of fluff”), and U (“unbelievable mountains of fluff”).

Larner: Pippin is just wriggling with joy that you love his ducks!

Lily: There can never be enough ducks and fwogs and tadpoles. Our wee hobbits deserve all the fun they can get.

lindahoyland: Thank you so much. I’m glad you thought I handled Frodo and Bilbo’s difficult talk well.

Pearl Took: I’m so happy to hear that (Knitted)Pippin still enjoys drawing ducks. And I hope your birthday was lovely, dear one!

SlightlyTookish: Who could resist so much Pippin-ness! Those Men were very lucky to meet such sweet hobbit lads.

smalldiver: Oh, I love the idea of Halbarad keeping his decorated crutches even after he doesn’t need them anymore. I do tend to return to this ‘universe’ whenever things get too angsty... if I think of another story line, you can be sure I’ll write more. Thank you so much for your enthusiasm and support.

The Hobbit Waffle: There is a lot of abandonment in Frodo’s life, isn’t there? How wonderful he must have felt when his cousins and Sam insisted on accompanying him to Rivendell... and far, far beyond.

Tigger: You sweetie, thank you. Believe me, I’ll miss this story as much as anyone. They’re all like my children, and I’m so happy folks enjoy them.

westwindschild: Calling this a “restful, healing story” is such a compliment. Thank you.

Whispering Darkness: Yes, I have to admit that wee!Pip is definitely cute!

Force of Nature by shirebound