Late Afterlithe 1430

       "'Tain't right," Nibs Cotton declared, emphasising the words with his fork. "'Tain't right for the King to celebrate his hundreth birthday without any of the Shire-folk to help him."

       Frodo smiled. "Not quite. Pippin's cousin Isumbrand and Fernilac Brandybuck are both going."

       Sam nodded. "I saw Will Whitfoot last week and he says Gil wants to go too."

       "That's good. Someone ought to go after all. But it's a shame no-one from round here is going. Michel Delving, the Tookland and Buckland but no-one from Hobbiton."

       "I daresay Strider understands. He knows how we feel about him."

       Nibs continued to look thoughtful. He tapped his chin and made as if to speak several times. Finally he said, "Reckon I'll go then, if Da and the rest can spare me for a while. I'd like to be there and see this great city, and it's not every day that a King has a hundreth birthday."

       Blossom froze in her seat. "That's nice! You didn't even ask what I think about that!" The young lass snatched up the plates and stalked into the scullery, slamming the door behind her.

       "That's torn it!" muttered Jolly. Nibs shrugged.

       "She'll come round. Got old Gaffer Weaver's temper, that's all."

       Mrs Cotton shook her head but said nothing. She presided over a large family and disagreements were not uncommon.

       Frodo cleared the rest of the dishes and helped Mrs Cotton to tidy the kitchen before he and Sam left to return to Bag End.

                                                                        ************

       Following a restless night and a morning of frosty silence, Blossom decided to go and see Rose. She respected her sister-in-law and hoped that she would be able to talk Nibs out of this foolish notion.

       She set off after lunch, walking quickly along the lanes, fuelled by fury. The sun was high in the sky and by the time she climbed the Hill and reached Bag End's green door she was even hotter and crosser than when she set out. From the field on the left, near the top of the Hill, she could hear voices and the sound of hammering and sawing as Sam and Frodo worked on the children's tree house.

       Rose looked at her young sister-in-law and nodded. "Stars and glory! You look fit to burst, lass." She pulled the lass in for a hug and Blossom started sobbing. "There, there. You'll be flooding the Brandywine at this rate. Come along inside and let's see what we can do."

       In the Bag End kitchen, with a cold flannel on her face, ice water on her wrists and a glass of iced lemonade before her, Blossom wiped her eyes and allowed the peace and calm to wash over her. The flagstones under her feet were cool and the kitchen shady and restful.

       Rose left the lass alone to recover while she filled a jug of lemonade, sliced some ginger cake and took a tray out to Sam and Frodo. On her return she poured herself a glass, cut a slab of cake and sat opposite Blossom.

       "I heard about Nibs' idea."

       "How could he say he wants to go off and leave us like that?"

       "Did Tom-dad say they couldn't manage?"

       "No........Nick said he'd deliver the milk and Nibs reckons they'll be back for hay harvest......"

       "So.........what you really mean is how could he say he wants to go off and leave you, eh?"

       "I suppose..................."

       "Not that you have to be left behind. You could always go as well you know."

       Blossom looked shocked. "That's a........" She tailed off. She could hardly say it was a ridiculous suggestion when Rose had actually been to Gondor.

       "You wouldn't be alone, you realise? Phlox is going with Isumbrand, Fernilac is taking Araminta and I've heard Marjy Whitfoot is going, so there'd be three other hobbit lasses to talk to. Minta and Phlox are taking the children too."

       "Really?" Blossom was surprised. "But suppose there's ruffians out there.....or even those horrid orcs?"

       Rose laughed. "We didn't have anyone with us until we reached Isengard and King Eomer's guards met us. Never saw any orcs - don't think there's many left these days. Same goes for ruffians. Anyway, you'd not be alone. Lord Tarondor is going, with a group of Rangers, there'll be a party of Gimli's people, the twins will be there, together with other Elves from Rivendell and the Greenwood, and at Edoras King Eomer, Queen Lothiriel, the children and many of the Rohirrim will be joining the party. Any orc or ruffian daft enough to attack that lot deserves everything they'll get!"

       Blossom helped herself to more cake. "Hmmmmm."

       Rose grinned. "Think on it, lass. And if you don't go, give Nibs your blessing. He admires the King and wants to be there at such a special time. Sometimes, when you love someone, you have to let them go in order to bring them back."

       Blossom nodded slowly. "You always believed Sam would come home, didn't you? Even when we heard what had happened out at Crickhollow?"

       "I knew he was out there somewhere and I knew he'd come back if he could." Rose smiled. "You know that the journey will change Nibs - travel changes folk. At least if you go with him you'll know what he experienced and you'll be changed too. I wish we could go but I've a feeling I might be carrying another by then and not really able to travel easily. And Estella and Diamond will have very young ones by then and may not want to tackle a long journey."

       Blossom said little but she looked very thoughtful and much more cheerful when she left. She kissed Rose's cheek. "Thank you for talking some sense into me. I know I'm an empty- headed, silly thing sometimes.........."

       "Nonsense! Now off you go and make it up with my little brother."

                                                                         ************

       Dinner was on the table when Blossom arrived back at the farm. She washed her hands and slid into her seat next to Nibs. She rested her hand on his and whispered to him.

       "Nibs, I've been a silly lass and I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. My Ma always says I should count to ten. I'm sorry - and I'm sorry for sulking like a silly tween. Do you forgive me?"

       Nibs slipped his arm round her waist and drew her close for a kiss. "Of course I do, sweeting. Does this mean you'll let me go to Gondor? We won't be apart for long - we'll be back before you have time to miss me."

       "No, Nibs Cotton, it does not mean I'm letting you go. And I won't miss you at all................. because I'm coming with you!"

       "What?!"

       "Blossom!" Everyone spoke at once.

       Blossom sniffed. "If Marjy Whitfoot can go, and Mr Took and Mr Brandybuck are willing to take their wives and little 'uns, it can't be dangerous.Us Cottons and Weavers are just as brave as they are. And Rose says the Lord Steward is going, and Rangers and Elves and Dwarves, not to mention King Eomer."

       "You went to see Rose?" Nibs silently thanked his wise and wonderful sister.

       "She didn't tell me what to do - just put the idea in my head. Once she suggested it I couldn't think of a reason why not."

       "That's our Rose."

       Mr Cotton winked at his wife as he helped her clear up. "There's a turn-up! Shy little Blossom going travelling! Reckon life's full of surprises, eh lass?" He kissed her. "It's nice to see those two all happy again though."

       "You soppy old fool, Tom Cotton!" She gave him an indulgent smile. "Reminds me why I married you."

       "I can always remind you a bit more," he suggested, sneaking another kiss and twirling one silvered curl in his fingers.

       "Don't push your luck, Tolman Cotton. Help me wash these plates and if you're good I might let you help me wind some wool."

       "Not sure I can stand the excitement, Lily-girl," he chuckled, and ducked as the tea towel narrowly missed his ear.

Foreyule 1430

Beneath overcast skies a group of hobbits gathered near the gates of the Cotton's farm. Rose, Sam, Frodo and the children were all there, with a cart full of goods, Tully Noakes had ventured over with some packages, May was there and gradually it seemed that most of Hobbiton and Bywater had turned out to give the adventurers a good send-off.

       Elanor sighed. "I wish we could go."

       "The White City sounds wonderful!" added Frodo-lad.

       "I gather Persimmon was not pleased to learn that her family would not be going," Frodo said. "The Smials are still reverberating I believe."

       Tom Cotton chortled. "I can imagine. That little lass has a temper!"

       Blossom was nervous but also excited. The last few months had flown by in a flurry of preparations, packing, making and buying new clothes, finding gifts for the King. She had butterflies in her stomach and so many thoughts rushed through her mind as she waited. Supposing the other wives were snobbish and would not talk to her? They were the wives of gentlehobbits after all. Perhaps the coach would make her ill? She had never travelled in a coach before. What if she reached the Bridge and could not face leaving the Shire?

       Rose and May were supervising the loading of the large cart, Rose scolding her brothers as they lifted the boxes and packages.

       "You be especially careful with those boxes there, young Nibs, or there'll be trouble. If I hear that the contents of those were broken when you reached Gondor, you'd better not bother coming back!"

       "Stop fussing, sis! What is in there anyways?"

       "The King's birthday cake, that's what. I made it and May iced it, and we don't want the icing shaken to pieces. I've packed it as well as I can, with padding and pillows. And don't you go telling the King there's a cake, do you hear? He's not to know. Lady Arwen wants it to be a surprise, so he's to think we didn't send one."

       Jolly chuckled. "Poor man.........his wife sounds a mischievous tease." He looked at Blossom. "Alright, lass?"

       "Just a bit scared now it's come to it."

       "You'll be fine," said Rose. "You've met Big Folk after all - and they don't come any taller than the King and his cousins. Besides, you do know the other lasses a little. And little Fredegund will keep you amused - they say he's very much like Pippin was as a faunt, Valar help us! We're all proud of you."

       Blossom smiled gratefully and hugged her sister-in-law. Nibs gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and murmured, "Here we go, dearling." She heard the rumble of carriage wheels and the sound of hooves and the others appeared round the turn of the road.

       Isumbrand Took doffed his hat, revealing sandy auburn curls. "Good morning, friends. At least it isn't raining on us." He dismounted and walked over to shake hands with everyone. Gilibard Whitfoot followed suit. He was a good-looking hobbit, dark haired with hazel eyes, who was a lawyer by profession and had no desire to follow his father as Mayor.

      An eager little face was pressed against the carriage window, nose flattened and misting the glass. Fredegund Took was too excited to stay still but jigged up and down as he waved to everyone.

       "See what I mean?" whispered Rose. "You'll be exhausted just watching him!"

       The wives emerged and the child dashed over to greet his idols. "Lo, Uncy Fo! Uncy Sam! Auntie Wosie!" He bounced straight into Frodo's arms, the tiny bells on his trousers jingling with every movement.

       "Hello, Freddy. My! You've grown so big! You'll be another Bullroarer at this rate."

       Freddy beamed and wrapped his arms round Frodo's neck. "We go see Uncy Estel. He having big birfday!"

       "That's right. And are you going to help him have fun?" The lad nodded. "This is Uncle Nibs and Auntie Blossom, and they're going to be travelling with you. Will you look after them for us?"

       "Uh-uh. I big now. Lo, Uncy Nibs. Lo, Auntie Bossom! I look after you!"

       Within seconds Blossom was laughing with the little lad and chattering to the other two wives. Phlox and Marjy were sensible and funny and not at all stuck up. They admired Blossom's cloak, she praised their dresses, and they were soon completely at ease.

       Mrs Cotton brought a tray with cups of mulled cider and hot pasties. Frodo proposed a toast.

       "May you have a safe and cheerful journey and a wonderful time in Rohan and Gondor, and may you miss us as much as we will miss you!"

       "Hear, hear!" Mr Cotton drained his glass, embraced his son and kissed his daughter-in-law. "Give the King our love and make sure he has the best birthday ever."

       "We will, da. See you in about six months then."

       Mrs Cotton tucked a bag of food into the carriage and ruffled little Freddy's hair. "Mind how you go, and tell the King we'll be celebrating his birthday with feasts in every village."

       Nibs hopped up on the cart, Isumbrand drove the coach, Gil mounted his pony and led the other one, and Blossom climbed inside the coach. Freddy clambered on to her lap and waved as Brand clicked his tongue and the ponies moved off.

                                                                        ************

       They spent the night at the Floating Log and set off early the next morning. It was damp and misty at first but as they approached the Bridge the mist was being burned away by the sun. There was quite a crowd waiting - Merry and Pip with their wives and babies, Saradoc and Esme, and Lord Tarondor accompanied by two other Rangers. With Merry was another obvious Brandybuck with sandy hair, and standing beside him was a lovely-looking lass carrying a baby while a lad slightly younger than Freddy scuffed about on the verge.

       Introductions were made and Blossom found herself cradling baby Jonquil while Nibs bounced an excited Tornilac.

       "So, Mistress Minta, this is the secret you were hiding when we visited in the Spring?" said the Steward.

       "I wasn't hiding her very successfully, my lord. She arrived three days after you and the King left."

       The Steward laughed and leaned down to look at the baby, who patted his face with one tiny hand. Tarondor introduced the other Rangers as Aldamir and Halacar, both clearly Dunedain with their dark hair and grey eyes.

       Freddy wandered towards the door of the Ranger post and his father called after him, "Freddy! Where are you going?"

       "Wanna see........" The lad toddled inside and paused. On a settle, lost in thought, was a very tall Man with a star clasp on his cloak. There was grey in his hair and beard and he looked very stern. The children of the Bree-lands did not normally approach this one, who earned the name 'Straight-face.' However, Freddy was a Took and completely undeterred by the forbidding exterior. He stood in front of the Man, evaluating him. Then he bowed.

        "Fedigund Took at your service, and your family's," he announced to a somewhat startled Ranger.

       "Erithain, son of Haladar, at your service, Master Took." He stood and bowed before resuming his seat. Freddy continued to look at him in a concerned fashion for a moment, then scrambled up beside him and stared into his face.

       "Is oo sad?" he enquired.

       Erithain looked nonplussed, but a small smile quirked his lips. "No, young master, not really. But I suppose I do not smile very often." It was many years since a child had approached him so freely.

       "Oo should!" said Freddy firmly, reaching out to push the corners of the Man's mouth into a bigger smile. "Nice." He stood on the settle, head tilted on one side. "Feel better?"

       "Much better." Erithain looked up as his Steward peered round the door frame. "My lord! I'm afraid I've been idling here."

       "Experiencing the healing power of hobbits, I see, my friend. There is no great hurry."

       "No, I am ready. I was just gathering my thoughts. Come, Master Took. We are off to Gondor."

       Freddy hopped down and trotted outside, his furry feet moving quickly across the flagstones. Waiting outside was Erithain's horse, and Freddy stopped, open-mouthed at the splendid dapple-grey.

       "You like my horse, little master?" The faunt nodded, giggling as the creature leaned down and huffed into his hair. "She is very beautiful, is she not? Her name is Gilmarien and she was a gift from Rivendell." He took an apple from his pocket, drew a knife from his belt and cut it into quarters. "Would you like to give her an apple?" He placed a portion in Freddy's hand and watched in approval as the lad held it out, hand flat. Gilmarien lipped the treat gracefully into her mouth and looked for more.

       Freddy looked at the Man as he mounted the horse. "Come wif oo?" he asked, holding up his arms.

       "Now Freddy don't go bothering the Captain."

       The child's lip trembled. "Not botherwing................"

       Erithain interjected hastily, "No, no, Master Isumbrand, he is certainly not being a bother. If you and my Lord Steward have no objections I would be happy to take Master Freddy with me. He is delightful company I have to say."

        Freddy turned, poked his tongue out at his father and allowed one of the other Rangers to lift him up. Once seated, he favoured everyone with a seraphic smile, emerald eyes sparkling with mischief.

        Not to be outdone, Tornilac begged to ride with Aldamir. Araminta settled herself in the coach with the baby in her arms, final farewells were said, another cart was added to the number and the travellers began their journey in earnest on the East Road to Bree.

Blossom and Nibs were not the only ones who looked warily towards the Old Forest. They had all heard the story of the Travellers' encounter with Old Man Willow and glanced nervously at the trees, stark and leafless. Tarondor noticed their glances and nodded.

       "The Old Forest deserves our respect. Very few have ever gone into it, and even fewer have come out. But the trees are quiet now because the evil which blanketed so much of Middle-earth has departed. The tree known as Old Man Willow is still there but no longer has the ability to influence the other trees in the same way."

       "Where is Lord Halboron, my lord?" enquired Gil. "Will he be joining us for the journey?"

       "Alas, no. Someone has to remain in charge and he will be my deputy in the North. We have to find some work for the young scamp to do!"

       "I hope he won't sulk like young Persimmon. When she found out we were going to see the King for this birthday she was enraged. Ev and Vinca have their hands full there. I don't envy them one bit!" Brand laughed and everyone joined in.

       "I doubt my brother will sulk, although he is naturally sorry to miss the celebrations. However, he was the one who travelled to Gondor for the birth of Prince Eldarion, so he has seen the White City since the War. I went there six months after the War, when there was still much to do, and I am looking forward to my first glimpse of the restored Minas Anor. My time has been spent sorting out the troubles in the northern lands and overseeing the reconstruction and restoration of Annuminas."

       "What's all that mist over there?" asked Marjy, pointing to the valley on their right.

       "Those are the Barrow-downs, Mistress. A place where the ancient kings were buried. Long was it a site of reverence and mystery. But when evil spirits came and took the chambers for themselves, and inhabited the dead and walked abroad among the stone circles, then it became a place of great dread. You know what happened to Frodo and his companions in one of those barrows?"

       Araminta shivered. "Oh yes. That part of their tale gave me nightmares for years."

       "Are there still evil spirits there, my lord?" asked Blossom.

       Tarondor shook his head. "The valley has been cleared of such things by the greatest Elf lord now dwelling in Middle-earth. Lord Glorfindel has spent much time cleansing the barrows."

       "That would have been something to see - the Lord Glorfindel in his full power and majesty, forcing the spirits to leave," said Brand. "I've heard descriptions of how he appeared at the Ford when the Nazgul were washed away."

       Phlox looked surprised. "So Lord Glorfindel didn't sail with Gandalf and Lord Elrond?"

       "No, he remains for the time being." Tarondor laughed. "He will tell you why when you meet him."

       "We're going to meet Lord Glorfindel?"

       "You are, for he is with the lords Elladan and Elrohir and will no doubt meet us when we leave Bree. They usually set up their camp about a mile south of the town."

       "Why is Captain Erithain so solemn? His eyes look full of sorrow," said Fernilac, glancing ahead to where the Man rode on his grey horse, one arm round the tiny hobbit lad.

        "His story is a sad one. I will not tell you without his permission, for it is not mine to tell, but if he grants me leave I will tell you why sorrow haunts him. For evil times claim many lives and, as the Ring-bearers and their friends know only too well, nothing is achieved without great sacrifice."

                                                                         ************

       Following a jolly and substantial lunch they set off again. The two little lads soon fell asleep in the arms of their Ranger guardians and were passed into the coach to nap for a while. Gil swapped places with Brand and drove the coach and the adventurous Took rode alongside Erithain.

       "Have you been to Bree before, Master Isumbrand?"

       "Yes, several times, my lord. I'm one of the daring and curious Tooks. I came this way when I went to Angmar with Lord Halboron a few years ago. I went with a cousin of mine - to advise the people on farming. They had forgotten a lot of the old skills and had just overthrown their leaders and placed themselves under the protection of the King."

       "I'm afraid the leaders of that region had kept their people in subjection for so long that they were never in one place long enough to farm the land as it should be. I heard that the Shire-folk sent grain to keep the people from starvation and in consequence they overthrew their leaders."

       "They did. Though I had to tell them off about their treatment of animals. Shocking, it was. You can't get the best out of any animal by ill-treating it, whether for work or food. To provide the best meat an animal must be treated kindly and fed well. And the people were very superstitious, particularly about cats. How they expected their harvests to survive with all those mice and rats about I don't know."

       "It is the same in other places - hundreds of years ago, when plague came to the North, the dogs and cats were slaughtered because it was thought they carried the disease, when in fact it was the vermin who carried it, especially the black rat. Sadly, by the time this was discovered, many people had died and the cat and dog ppulation was so small they could not deal with the rats."

       "In the Shire we look after our animals. Frodo will not harm a living creature. If he had to kill his own food he would live on berries, mushrooms and vegetables. He treasures his cat - two cats now, I gather - and feeds the birds and squirrels."

       "I should like to meet the Lord Frodo again. I saw the Ring-bearers briefly during the week of the King's coronation, but left to return to the North soon afterwards. Had it not been for him and the Lord Samwise the world would now be in darkness."

       "You should visit the Shire, my lord. I know everyone would be only too happy to welcome you.And my Freddy would be delighted. He seems to have claimed you as a favourite uncle."

       "He is truly a remarkable child. Small ones do not usually speak to me. I fear my outward appearance deters them. I was most surprised at his forwardness."

       "That's the Tooks for you! He is very like Pippin - Peregrin - and if you've met him then that should be all you need to know!"

       Erithain laughed, and Brand saw a likeness to Aragorn. "I have met Captain Peregrin - and he was certainly very.......amusing and cheerful."

       "And completely exhausting! When he was small they had to sew bells on his trousers to let them know when he was on the move, otherwise he might have crawled to Gondor! It worked very well - until he learned to remove the trousers!"

       "Has Master Freddy learned to do that?"

       "Not yet, but I suspect it will not be long. Children are a joy but sometimes.........." Brand shook his head and chuckled.

       "My own son will be meeting us in Bree. He is the youngest of the Rangers and he and his friend Hallas have been out on patrol with the lords of Imladris. Dirhael will be most intrigued when he sees I have been adopted by Master Freddy."

       "Dirhael? Was that not Lord Aragorn's grandfather's name?"

       "Indeed it was. He was my grandfather too, for my father and the Lady Gilraen were brother and sister. It was thought that some training with the lords Elladan and Elrohir would benefit my son and Hallas, as they learn the skills necessary for a Ranger."

       "Ewithain?" a little voice called from the coach. "I's awake now!"

       "Please don't feel you have to take him all the time, my lord."

       "I am happy to have him. He is such a cheerful child and so innocently charming. He spent the morning teaching me Shire songs."

       "Be careful he doesn't teach you the wrong words. We Tooks have a habit of inventing words for well-known songs, some with words our parents would disapprove of!"

       "I shall be on my guard against improper language." Erithain rode level with the coach and took Freddy from his mother's arms. "Did you enjoy your nap, small master?"

       "Uh-uh. But I's hungwy now!"

       "Tsk! That is a situation we cannot allow to continue. But look, your Mama has some food for you. You shall sit with me and eat as we ride.When it grows dark you can watch for the lights of Bree. Do you think you can do that?"

       Freddy nodded, patting his hands on Gilmarien's neck. He ate his sandwiches and watched carefully for any signs of life in the gathering gloom. Finally, when all the surrounding countryside had been swallowed up in winter darkness and only owls could be heard, his voice rang out, quivering with anticipation.

       "Lights, Ewithain! Bwee! Look Da! It's Bwee!"

                                                                          ************

       The gate hobbit bowed as they rode through Bree's West-gate. Blossom, Nibs and Marjy had never seen houses with upper storeys before and were impressed by the height of these dwellings and the lights in the windows. The main street seemed to be full of people, even though it was dark and almost time for supper, Big Folk and Little, hurrying, chatting, bustling. Barliman Butterbur awaited them at the doors of The Prancing Pony, standing beneath the splendid Royal Warrant.

       "Welcome my lords, captains, small masters and mistreses. Welcome to the Prancing Pony. Your rooms are all ready." He led them inside, shouting for Nob to see to the ponies, and soon they had been to their rooms, washed and tidied themselves and were in the dining-room awaiting supper.

       When the meal was over the wives retired, taking the children who were nodding. Carrie Butterbur had thoughtfully placed a cot in Brand and Phlox's room and Torni and Freddy cuddled up together. Hobbit younglings were naturally affectionate and preferred snuggling in groups to sleeping alone. Phlox and Araminta undressed and sat talking for a while before Minta returned to her room with baby Jonquil in her basket. Blossom fell asleep quickly; travelling was tiring and there were so many new experiences to take in. Marjy too soon fell asleep. She was looking forward to spending a little time shopping in Bree, and drifted off thinking of the dresses and little items she might find.

      Erithain excused himself from the group soon after, leaving the four hobbits and three Men to enjoy their pipes. Nibs sipped some of the Prancing Pony's finest and thought hos enjoyable this was. He had been a working hobbit all his life, up early to deliver milk to the good folk of Hobbiton and Bywater, and it was a luxury not to have anything to do. He suspected he would be bored if it went on too long, but at the moment it was interesting to see new places. Bree was a good place for them to begin their adventures, since hobbits lived there too and it was not exclusively full of Big Folk. He was pleased with the way Blossom had coped so far, and glad she was getting on with the other wives, who all seemed nice lasses.

       Tarondor spoke. "You asked me about Erithain's air of sorrow, Master Fernilac. He has given his consent and I will tell you his tale. He does not seek pity but once you hear it you will understand perhaps why he is somewhat withdrawn, and why this trip to Gondor is one he has been avoiding for a long time."

       "Erithain is, as you know, close kinsman to the King. His father, Haladar was brother to the Lady Gilraen. You have heard of Halbarad?"

       Nibs nodded. "He was the King's kinsman who fell in the battle. He carried the great standard."

       "I can see you have been listening to the tales of the Travellers, Master Nibs. Halbarad was Erithain's older brother, and part of his grief is for his brother's loss. Yet, grievous though that loss was, if that was his only loss he might consider himself more fortunate than some.

       "Erithain fell in love with a beautiful woman named Isilwen, and married at a younger age than many of the Dunedain. They had three children - Eldacar, Firiel and Dirhael - and lived in a settlement in the Angle. At one time they lived closer to Bree, on the South Downs, but when Isilwen's mother began ailing, they went to help her with the farm, and take care of her.

       "Haladar was killed in an ambush near the Trollshaws, not far from where Aragorn's father was killed twenty years previously, so Erithain well knew the dangers. He was always a careful soldier, a fine commander and a loving husband and father. Following the death of his wife's mother, three years before the War of the Ring, and aware of the increasing incursions of orcs, Angmarians and Dunlendings, he resolved to move as many of those in the settlement who were willing to go, to the Breelands and install his own family in Bree itself. He intended to do this as soon as he returned from his tour of duty. His eldest son was then seventeen, and our Chieftain had arranged training for the younger Rangers and those who were about to join the ranks. I suspect Lord Aragorn knew the conflict was coming and wanted the Dunedain prepared. Eldacar was near Rivendell, being put through his paces by the sons of Lord Elrond."

       Tarondor paused and sipped from his tankard. No-one else spoke. It was as though they were held in suspense, experiencing dread in the pit of the stomach although they did not know why. Tarondor set his pipe on the table and continued.

       "Dirhael was then about eight or nine years old and Firiel, the only daughter was fourteen, a maid of great sweetness and as forthright as the Lady Eowyn. Hallas was almost twelve and had been living with them as an adopted son since his parents died of the lung sickness when he was seven. They were a very happy family. Aldamir and Halacar here were with Erithain's patrol and can tell you what happened the day they returned."

       Aldamir took up the story. "We approached the village at mid-morning. We always liked to call in on our return, because we were tired of pack rations and Isilwen fed us so well. She was a marvellous cook - she said she had lived in the Bree-lands for a time and been taught by hobbits. I think we all realised that something was wrong. There was no sound of children at play, no women singing, nothing. Then I thought I could smell smouldering wood, burnt thatch, and the slightly sweet smell of death. We dismounted and crept into the centre of the village. What we saw was difficult to accept. Everywhere we looked there were bodies - old men and women, children, babies, pregnant women..........No-one had been spared. Many of the houses had been burned to the ground. Near the path from the wood were two friends of Dirhael's, lads who usually accompanied him to the woods with the livestock. Erithain was frantic - there was no sign of Dirhael or Hallas, and no sign of his wife and daughter either. Some of our number went into the woods to search, while the rest of us continued to look in the houses.

       "Suddenly I heard a cry. I never wish to hear any creature make such a cry of agony. I found Erithain on his knees by the threshold of his own house, beside the broken body of his daughter.Her clothes were torn and she had been........violated. I tried to pull him away but he pushed me to one side and went into the house. I confess I had a sick feeling in my stomach as I followed him into the kitchen. I wish I had never seen what we found, and it must haunt his nights as it does mine. Isilwen's body was propped against the wall. He skirts were up around her waist and she too had been violated. There was a bloody knife in her hand and the body of a Dunlending lay nearby - she had clearly tried to fight for her honour. Her body was.......headless. I thought this was the worst sight I could possibly see, but I heard him groan and when I turned round he had collapsed and was rocking back and forth. I saw the most terrible sight of all..............his wife's head on a plate on the kitchen table."

       Nibs dropped his pipe into his lap and all four hobbits stared at Aldamir in shock.

       "They cut her head off?" Fernilac whispered.

       Aldamir nodded his assent. "Probably because she fought back and killed one of them." He shivered slightly. "Somehow I managed to drag him out of that accursed place. He went meekly, too shocked to argue. Meanwhile some of the others in our party had gone through the woods, hunting for any survivors." The Ranger nodded at Halacar, who sipped from his tankard and began:

       "The pigs were rooting under the trees, chickens scratched in the clearings and the goats were grazing nearby. They had escaped because they must have been in the woods when the attack occurred. Had the livestock been in the village they would have been killed and taken.The animals would not have been alone, and usually it was the youths who went with them. We walked around, looking for signs, and at some point I looked up and saw just a faint shadow in one of the largest trees. I called softly and a pale face peered out through the leaves. It was Hallas. When he saw me he almost fell off the branch in relief. Then the branches parted and I saw young Dirhael. He was clearly in a daze, weak and distressed from lack of food and the horror of half-knowing what had happened. Hallas half-carried, half-pushed him down and the boy fell into my arms. He was rigid with terror and completely unable to utter a word. They had been up that tree for almost two days. The other two lads who had been with them had returned on hearing the commotion, and died before they reached their homes. Hallas told me what had happened, how he practically sat on his friend, physically preventing him from going back. Then he pushed and shoved him up the tree to hide in the thick branches. During the night Hallas had crept down to see what had happened, and was ill when he saw what the Dunlendings had done to his foster mother and sister. He was afraid to allow Dirhael out of his sight in case he went back and saw his family and friends dead.They milked the goats during the day, foraged a little way for a few berries and returned to the tree at night.

       "Erithain almost collapsed when he saw his son, but somehow broke the news as gently as he could, although the boy never spoke. He cried - I think we all did, without shame. We knew there was a larger village a few miles away which we passed two hours before. All was well there - it was better defended with a ditch and pallisade, and some men who could use their bows. We decided to take the boys there but Dirhael became hysterical at the thought of leaving the animals, so we put the boys in a cart with the chickens and drove the goats and pigs before us. I promised Dirhael his father would join him as soom as he could."

       Aldamir sighed deeply. "It would have taken a much larger force than we had to bury the dead deeply enough - wolves or bears might have disturbed them, or orcs, which would have been worse. We decided to place the dead in one house and burn it, then return next day and bury the ashes. Erithain collected some belongings, a few keepsakes which had not been stolen, and some spare clothing for the boys. In one of the houses we searched we found a baby in its cradle, alive and unharmed. He had been hidden by a screen and was presumably asleep at the time, so going undetected. We gave him some goat's milk and the boys took turns to hold him. When the cart and six of the Rangers had gone we said prayers for the dead, torched the house and rode away.

       "The next day our Chieftain arrived with Eldacar, having seen the smoke from the funeral pyre. The sons of Lord Elrond were with him, and they helped to bury the ashes. I have never seen our leader as angry as he was that day, nor do I ever wish to see him so again. He does not shout or utter curses but becomes pale and quiet and deadly."

       Ferni nodded. "Frodo is the same. His voice drops and becomes almost a whisper, velvet silk with steel inside.I do not wish to ever be on the wrong side of Frodo Baggins."

       "Oft have I heard - and seen with my own eyes - that Frodo and Lord Aragorn are brothers of the spirit. Their Lights of Being are very similar," Tarondor agreed. He nodded to Aldamir. "Will you go on, my friend."

       "Dirhael began to emerge from his trance, tearful and frightened and guilty that he had not saved his mother and sister. He accused Hallas of preventing him from helping, which upset the older boy very much, but afterwards he repented of his words and begged forgiveness. Erithain was grateful to Hallas for saving the boy, who would not have survived had he run back.

       "After a week, and just as the boys were beginning to show signs of recovery, Erithain collapsed with a fever. Our Chieftain said it was the reaction of an over-wrought mind, and who could blame him? In his delirium he begged for a sword to slay himself. It was terrible to watch. It took the skills of the lords of Rivendell, the gift of Isildur's heir, and the love of his sons to bring him back, but he was never quite the same. His hair and beard began to show a little grey from that time, and he smiled less."

       "I'm not surprised," murmured Gil, clearly shaken. "'Tis a wonder the sight didn't strike him stark mad."

       Halacar spoke. "When the time came that our Cheiftain called as many of us as he could to go south and aid him in the fight against Sauron, Halbarad, Erithain and many others heard the call. Eldacar went too, the youngest of the Rangers to take the Paths of the Dead. He never flinched or faltered, not even when the dead followed to the Stone of Erech and people bolted their doors in terror. We took the ships at Pelargir, and sailed up the Anduin to the aid of Minas Tirith. Halbarad carried the standard made by the Lady Arwen. None of the orcs of Mordor could abide its sight or touch, so Haradrim and Easterlings were sent to take it. The Standard-bearer is ever a target because to take the standard is to bring grief and loss of heart. He stood beside Aragorn, ever-watchful for danger, always in the heat of battle, when suddenly there was a great commotion. Easterlings poured down upon them and they were separated. The enemy hacked at Halbarad, hewing his shoulder to the bone. Young Eldacar saw what was happening and rode to his uncle's aid. He killed five in that mad, glorious charge, but they struck him down before he reached Halbarad. They fell at almost the same moment, just as the Lord Elrohir grasped the standard and shot the enemy who was trying to take it." Halacar swallowed and paused, deeply moved. His friend carried on the tale.

       "They were carried from the battlefield together. Aragorn himself broke the news to Erithain, and saw to it that uncle and nephew were buried together near the banks of the Great River. This visit to Gondor will be the first time he has seen the grave and the place where his son and brother fell since the King's coronation."

       The Steward shook his head. "In his place I too would be reluctant to go. He has bravely resisted the urge to over-protect Dirhael, although he must be afraid that he will lose him too. I know he is eager to see the lads again, and this will be their first visit to Gondor. They are as excited as Master Freddy."

       "The hour is late, friends," said Halacar. "I hope you will sleep well and not dwell on the details of this story. Erithain would not wish you to lose sleep over it. And please do not pity him - understand him if you will, and continue to treat him as you have been doing. Your sons will do so in their own charming way. They're already proving better than any medicine for a grieving heart."

       The four hobbits made their way to bed, with much to ponder upon.

The hobbits related Erithain's story to their ladies while they bathed and dressed. Nibs thought about censoring some of the details for Blossom's sake but realised that Brand would likely tell Phlox the whole truth and then his wife would be hurt if he were not honest with her. She went pale as he related the story of the massacre which had claimed the Man's wife and daughter and when he spoke of the Battle of the Pelennor Fields and the death of his son and brother she was weeping.

       "We never knew, did we, Nibs? In the Shire we took so much for granted, never thinking those brave Men were protecting us. Poor, poor soul. No wonder he looks so sad - he must be in torment."

       "I think this journey may be what he needs, dearling. Lord Tarondor and the King himself talk of the Shire's power to heal hurts, and he seems to think travelling with us and especially with the children, will help this good Man. Now dry your eyes and let's go to breakfast. Lord Tarondor said not to pity him but treat him kindly and help him to enjoy life again."

                                                                         ************

       Erithain opened the door to the dining-room and was pounced on by two small hobbits.

       "Ewithain! Beakfast, Ewithain! Sit down! Eat! Oo Hungwy!" The tiny tyrants propelled him towards the table, chattering away in high-pitched voices. Their actions broke the ice and everyone laughed to see the Ranger bulllied to breakfast.

       "I .....er........I do not normally bother with breakfast, young masters."

       Freddy shot him a disapproving look which would have frightened a troll. "No eat beakfast? Oo sould eat - it good."

       Tarondor wiped his eyes. "Hobbits believe in a good meal to start the day, my friend."

       Blossom giggled. "This is Second Breakfast, my lord."

       "Second Breakfast?"

       "Mistress Butterbur brought porridge and warm spiced buns to our rooms early this morning. Now we are ready to tackle a proper meal."

       Erithain inspected the table, where platters of bacon, sausages, eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes and fried bread awaited their attention. "It certainly looks delicious. Yes, I think I shall have breakfast today."

       Torni and Freddy beamed conspiratorially at each other and scrambled into their seats. They watched with approval as the Man helped himself to something from each of the platters, although they were obviously concerned that he was not eating nearly enough.

       Tarondor chuckled. "You will need to trot home from Gondor after several months in the company of hobbits, you know. I had to loosen my belt several notches after ten days in the Shire."

       A sudden commotion in the corridor, loud laughter, giggles from Carrie.

       "They're all in the dining room. You'll be wanting your usual hobbit breakfast?"

       "Ah, you know us too well!"

       "It's the only reason you young gentlemen come here."

       "Nonsense! We come to see you, Carrie Butterbur, the loveliest lady in Bree!"

       "Go along! You're a pair of terrible flatterers."

       The door opened to reveal two tall young Men with stars on their cloaks. They were both clean-shaven, handsome and smiling broadly.

       "Adar! My Lord Steward!" They both bowed to Tarondor and then embraced Erithain as he stood to greet them.

       "My sons." He kissed them both on the brow. Brand was pleased to see Hallas greeted with equal joy and affection.

       "You're eating breakfast?" The younger of the two - clearly Dirhael - looked astonished.

       "I am under orders. I have been adopted by Master Freddy and his cousin, and they insist I eat properly." Erithain smiled, his eyes clear and unshadowed as he looked proudly at the two young men. For a moment Nibs saw him as he must have been as a carefree husband and father.

       Tarondor made the introductions and soon the newcomers were seated, one either side of their father, piling their plates in a way which met the approval of the hobbits.

       "So, Master Freddy, you are taking care of our adar?" Dirhael helped himself to tea as Carrie arrived with more hot water and another huge platter.

       "Uh-uh. He too thin. Need lots of food." The tiny lad pointed to the largest mushrooms and looked up at his tall friend. "Shwooms - nice. Eat, eat!" He looked at the young Rangers. "Oo too! Not leave any!"

       Brand rolled his eyes. "You have had your orders, I'm afraid. Freddy is very single-minded and determined - he is a Took with a Burrows mother after all."

       When the older Men had finished they sat back and watched the hobbits and the two younger Men with a mixture of disbelief and admiration.

       Tarondor grinned. "If you think this is impressive you should see Merry and Pippin. I really don't know where they put it all, although Frodo says Pip has a hollow leg!"

       Hallas sighed. "I would love to meet the Ring-bearers - and the Captains." He glanced at Dirhael, who nodded enthusiastically.

       Erithain permitted himself a smug smile. "I have an invitation to visit the Shire. If you two behave yourselves I may allow you to accompany me."

       "An invitation to the Shire? How? When?"

       "Really? When can we go?"

The young Rangers sounded as excited as any hobbit, and Brand thought their relationship was similar to that of Merry and Pip, affectionate, the older one protective, the younger always trying to emulate his friend.

       "We have not yet determined those matters, but I believe next Yule has been mentioned as a possibility."

       Brand was delighted. "You will come then?"

       "I have given your kind invitation much thought and I see it is a great honour, for few Men will be allowed to do so. The King says it is a place of peace and joy, and I should like to see it and experience those things for myself."

       Tarondor looked very pleased. "Our cousin and Prince Faramir have talked of little else since their visit. The children are hopping about in anticipation now, and Bergil is the envy of the Citadel guards because he has seen the Shire and enjoyed the hospitality of the Lord Frodo - not to mention the unparalleled cooking of the Lady Rose."

       Dirhael turned to Nibs. "Do I understand that you are brother to Lady Rose? She sounds remarkable. I'm sure those in Gondor with the rank of 'Lady' do not go near a kitchen."

       Nibs laughed heartily. "Sam was given the title 'Lord of the Free Peoples' so in that way she is referred to as 'Lady' but she would be the first to tell you she is simply Mistress Rose, wife to the Mayor of Michel Delving, and mistress of Bag End. Neither Sam nor Frodo use their titles - we don't have lords in the Shire."

       Brand nodded. "When you visit be sure not to call Frodo 'Lord.' He dislikes it intensely - before his illness, when he suffered so much guilt and torment, he would go white and walk out of the room. He never felt he deserved it, you see."

       Hallas shook his head. "It is difficult to imagine the Ring-bearer, he one who saved us all, feeling guilt. I hope he no longer feels that way?"

       "Partly - although he doesn't like too much fuss. He prefers to give the credit to everyone else. Just enjoys the love of his family and friends and relishes every day he can spend in his beloved Shire. He adores Sam's children and they adore him."

       "If all hobbit children are as affectionate as Master Freddy and Master Torni I can understand that." Hallas smiled down at the little faunt clambering into his lap.

       Brand chuckled. "We hobbits wear our feelings for everyone to see. We're not very good at dissembling. If we like you we feed you, and if we don't like you we throw things! Rocks, principally, if we have no bow and arrows to hand."

       Tarondor was most amused. "Our King says the refreshing honesty of the hobbits is very good for those in power. Mithrandir always said that every Wizard should have a hobbit or two in his care - they will keep us rooted. Had Merry and Pippin reached Isengard I think they may just have driven Saruman to the brink of insanity with their logic."

                                                                          ************

       "I can't wait to meet this splendid new horse, adar. The lords of Rivendell talked of little else."

       "So Thunder has retired to Imladris?"

       "He has earned his rest. I left him watching the mares with a gleam in his eye."

       "He will begin a whole line of foals. A fine way to see out his days."

       The Steward thought it would be good to stay in Bree for a whole day, to allow the hobbits time to accustom themselves to travel, strange places and Big Folk. The ladies had therefore gone off with Carrie Butterbur and Lavinia Banks, the hobbitess who helped out in the kitchens, to inspect the shops. Gil was resigned to the fact that Marjy would be away for hours.

       The little faunts ran ahead as the men-folk made their way to the stables. Freddy bounded up and hugged the large dog who stood guard, flinging his arms around it and giggling as it smothered him with licks and wagged itself to a standstill.

       "That little one has no fear. I'd have been wary of a huge animal like that at his age." Dirhael watched the tiny hobbit climbing over the dog, who lay down with his tail thumping.

       Ferni sighed theatrically. "He's a Took - they're known for being adventurous and bold - and a little mad!."

       Gil laughed. "Tooks, Brandybucks.......and Bagginses - to say nothing of the Gamgees these days."

       "Are the Tooks particularly noted for being adventurous?" asked Hallas curiously, to the amusement of the hobbits and the Steward.

       Brand explained. "Well we do seem to produce some very eccentric individuals. Old Gerontius had his moments - he was a great friend of Gandalf's, which was regarded very dubiously in most places - and some of his children were distinctly odd. Isengar always said he had been to sea in his youth, and Hildifons went off on a journey and never returned. Belladonna married Bungo Baggins and became the mother of Bilbo, and although old Bilbo was a staid and sober Baggins for his first fifty years, once Gandalf and the dwarves turned up he took off on all those adventures and returned a much more restless hobbit, eager for travel and knowledge. And Mirabella married Gorbadoc Brandybuck and often travelled to Bree, getting to know dwarves and Rangers. Her eldest son was Rorimac, later Master of Buckland, and her youngest daughter was Primula, who later became the mother of Frodo Baggins. So three of the Travellers have Took blood."

       "And Lord Samwise?"

       "He has no obvious Tookish ancestry but he's a Took in spirit."

       Erithain's mare lifted her head at the sound of their approach, surveying the visitors with interest. She brightened even more when she saw her master and the small hobbits, who had entered her good graces by offering her treats.

       "She is glorious. Elladan and Elrohir did not exaggerate in their praise."

       "Gilmarien. There, my lovely." Erithain opened the door to her stall and led her out for closer inspection. "Of course she is glorious. Asfaloth is her sire."

       She was large but graceful, as was usual for an Elven horse. Her coat was beautifully dappled with a grey which seemed more smokey-blue than merely muted black, and her mane and tail were silver-white. She had three perfect silver stars in a line down her brow, and deep brown eyes fringed with long silver lashes.

       She nudged Erithain's pocket and he fed her an apple. Freddy was lifted up to stroke her before they made a fuss of all the equines, grooming and feeding them. Work done at last, they retired to the parlour to smoke and talk, while the young Rangers played with the children.

       The proud fathers watched as Hallas, pretending to be a giant, stalked a squealing Torni.

       "I find it difficult to determine which pair are the children," murmured Erithain. Ferni sniggered.

       "Your sons are young enough to have some fun - and they're doing a splendid job looking after the little ones."

       "I am the Tickle Monster!" intoned Hallas, closing in on his victim. Giggling hysterically, Torni launched himself into the pile of cloaks and cushions in the corner. Hallas reached out and swept the faunt into his arms for some serious tickling.

       "Aha! Now I have you!" said Dirhael, swinging Freddy up and dancing round with him, before dropping to the floor and sprawling on the hearthrug, his captive on his chest.

       Brand was grinning all over his face as he turned to the Ranger. "Perhaps they should all have a nap after lunch?"

       "A very good idea. That may be the only way to ensure peace and quiet - send my two off for a sleep. They're making more noise than the small hobbits." Erithain tried to sound gruff but he was clearly amused.

       "Lunch!" exclaimed Freddy. "Eat!" He sat up just as the ladies arrived with pasties and sandwiches, having visited the excellent bake shop. Thus ordered, Men and hobbits hastily converged on the table to enjoy a leisurely meal and watch the bustle outside in the streets of Bree.

Blossom felt momentary panic as the coach left the gates of Bree and turned south down the Greenway. This was it. The adventure was about to begin.

       Marjy leaned forward and took Blossom's hands in hers. "Everything will be fine, dear. We're all feeling it a bit but we're all in this together."

       Araminta agreed. "We're lucky. We don't have to walk all the way like the Travellers did, and we're not being pursued by orcs and Black Riders."

       Blossom smiled and wiped her palms with her handkerchief. "Sorry. I'm being daft."

       Minta disagreed. "It isn't daft at all, dear. Only natural we all feel a bit strange. None of us Shire-folk on this trip have been this far before." She placed baby Jonquil in Blossom's arms. "Be a pet and hold her for me while I find a fresh napkin. She likes you."

       The baby proved an excellent distraction and Blossom was soon looking eagerly out at the scenery. To the west they could see the misty edges of the valley of the Barrow-downs, while to the east were the South Downs, rolling swathes of green with occasional mysterious figures carved into the chalk, not unlike the ones on the Far Downs. Blossom remembered that Mister Frodo had given her a map, and rummaged in her bag for it. When the other lasses saw it they all wanted to see where they were and follow the journey to its destination. The baby, changed and fed, was settled in her basket, the folding table set up and the map spread out for everyone to peruse.

       "So we're.........here? So we go down the Greenway, across the River Greyflood at Tharbad, cross the......what's that? ........Enedwaith.... to the Gap of Rohan. Well that looks reasonable. No mountains to cross, and the rivers have proper bridges, so Pippin said." Phlox pointed with her finger and traced the line of the Greenway.

       "Sam said the one at Tharbad was restored, although people have never returned to the settlement there. He says the new bridge is a fine stone one, made by Mister Gimli's people."

       "I wonder if there'll be time to see Isengard?" pondered Marjy.

       "I hope we meet the Ents! Wouldn't that be exciting?"

       Phlox peered at the map. "We go to Edoras (by Yule hopefully) and then follow the road down here, through the....Firien Wood, across the Mering Stream, round the........," she turned her head to read the word, "Druadan Forest and so to the City."

       "I'm sure someone said the Mering Stream marks the border between Rohan and Gondor," said Marjy.

       "And there is Mordor," whispered Minta, pointing to the enclosed land with its border of mountains on three sides. "Fancy walking all that way!" She shuddered. "There's the mountain. Merry says nearly half of it has gone now."

       "The Travellers didn't go the way we're going, did they? Let's see.............." Phlox leaned over and studied the portion of the map with Eriador drawn on it. "They went from Bree into the wild...."

       "With the mysterious Strider!" Blossom giggled.

       "With the strange and menacing Ranger! They camped there - see? - and that's where Frodo was stabbed. Then they went to Rivendell........"

       "Oooh look! The Trollshaws! That's where Bilbo Baggins and the dwarves were nearly eaten!"

       "Yes, and the trolls are still there. Sam said when they were in the dell they saw them."

       Phlox was squinting at the map agan. "When they left Rivendell they tried to go over the mountains, then went through Moria and into Lothlorien, and from there they went down the river to Amon Hen, where poor Captain Boromir was killed." Frodo had written Boromir died here over the place.

       "Wasn't that where Sam and Mister Frodo left the company?" asked Blossom.

       "Yes, and Merry and Pippin were captured and carried off by those......whatchermacallums.......the big orcs from Isengard." Minta frowned as she tried to recall the name, without success. Exasperated, she pulled down the window and called out to Halacar, who was nearest. "Excuse me, sir, but what were those huge orcs from Isengard called? I cannot remember the name."

       "Those were the Uruk-hai, Mistress Minta. It is rumoured that they were the result of crossing orcs and Men."

       "Errgghh!" Phlox shuddered. "I don't want to think about that! Some of those ruffians in the Shire were part-orc so Pippin said."

       The Man nodded in agreement. "No indeed. That is something none of us want to examine too closely, and certainly not just before lunch!"

                                                                         ************

       The day had blended into night with a clear sky bruised with a winter sunset as the party halted at a word from Hallas. The two young Rangers left the road, urging their horses down a shallow slope and into some bushes on the left. After a few minutes Dirhael returned and waved the others forward. Less than ten yards further on was a path and the coach and carts were steered gently down into the dip and through the bushes. They found themselves in a clearing, where two pavillions - one smaller than the other - had been set up and two areas at the back screened off. A fire was burning brightly, sparks fluttering orange against the darkness, and the clearing was filled with the aroma of roasting rabbit and cooking vegetables. Grazing at the edge of the clearing were three horses: one appeared to be a chestnut, one a roan and the third was a striking silver-white. Two dark-haired Elves busied themselves tending the fire and stirring the pot, and a third Elf stood silently under the trees, singing softly as he groomed the white horse.

       "Welcome, friends!" called Elladan cheerfully.

       Everyone greeted the sons of Elrond with delight.

       "Oh dear. I can never tell them apart," Blossom sighed.

       "My dear Mistress Blossom, it is very easy," smiled Elladan. "I am the handsome one."

       "And I'm the intelligent one," murmured Elrohir smoothly.

       The fair-haired Elf approached and bowed. Brand had the impression he was veiling his light and power because they would be too much for mortals to bear. This was the one who had confronted the Black Riders at the Ford, the Elf who had died killing a Balrog and gone to the Halls of Mandos before being returned to live again. He looked into the eyes and saw the wisdom and sorrow and joy of ages.

       "You are all most welcome. We have prepared a bathing tent for Men and a smaller one for the Shire-folk. Each has a brazier to warm you. Supper will be ready soon, and we shall help to put up your tents. You have done well to travel this far in a day and you must be ready for a meal and a rest."

       "Thank you, my Lord Glorfindel," said Brand, making the introductions. "You did not sail with Lord Elrond?"

       "No, I am not yet ready to leave Middle-earth. Besides, someone is required to keep these two young ones in order." Glorfindel gestured towards his companions, who managed to look completely unrepentant. He smiled at a suddenly shy Tornilac and the little one toddled slowly forward.

       Freddy had no such inhibitions. "Fedegund Took, at your service, Mister Glorfidel!" he declared, bowing to the surprised Elf.

       "Welcome, Master Fredegund and Master Tornilac. And who is this tiny one?" He rested his hand gently on the baby's brow and she smiled happily at his blessing.

       "Our daughter, Jonquil."

       "She is very lovely, like her name-flower. Come, let me show you ladies to the bathing-tent, as I'm sure you would like to freshen yourselves before the meal."

       Blossom was very touched to find that the Elves had made considerable preparations for them. A sheltered area behind some low bushes had been screened off to use as a privy. The hobbits' large bathing tent had a brazier which glowed warmly, with a large cauldron of steaming water over it and a jug nearby . There was a low table with a basin and two leaf-shaped bars of soap. They unpacked their towels and washed, the baby was changed and the faunts were re-aquainted with a flannel - much to their disgust - before they all returned to the clearing, to find the two hobbit tents up. The two couples with children would share one and Gil, Marjy, Nibs and Blossom the other.

       They were soon settled on logs around the fire, with blankets over their knees, as the Steward and Elladan served up the rabbit and vegetables. It was cosy and fun and even Blossom was enjoying the experience, particularly as there were mushrooms in the stew.

                                                                          ************

       When the meal was over the hobbit males and the Men all produced their pipes, careful to sit downwind of the Elves. Torni drowsed on his father's lap, Jonquil slept in her basket and Freddy snuggled on Erithain's lap, wrapped in the Ranger's cloak.

       "How are the Ringbearers?" asked Glorfindel.

       "Frodo and Sam? They're both very well," said Brand. "They would have come with us but Rose is expecting another baby in Thrimidge."

       "Another?" cried Elladan. "That's wonderful news." He turned to Glorfindel. "You really should visit the Shire. It has a peace and beauty coupled with a joy in the simple pleasures which make one feel totally at home."

       "I can see I shall have to do so. I have heard so much about it. I have travelled through it, of course, but I have never visited the populated areas."

       "You would be most welcome, my lord," Brand assured him.

       Nibs addressed the elf-lord a little hesitantly, his curiosity too great to be ignored.

       "There's one thing I don't really understand, sir. You made a prophecy, I believe, many long years ago, about the......the leader of the ...Black Riders."

       "Far off yet is his doom, and not by the hand of Man will he fall," Glorfindel murmured. "The gift of foresight was granted to me in that moment. What is it that puzzles you, Master Nibs?"

       "Well, why did he think that meant he couldn't be killed at all? If that had been me I'd have been worried about all sorts of dangers. Even if he didn't think a woman could kill him, and he didn't know about hobbits, why didn't he worry that he'd be killed by an Elf such as yourself - beggin' your pardon, my lord - or a Dwarf? Then there's Wizards, orcs, trolls, dragons, spiders.......and his Master. I would never have assumed I couldn't be killed with all that lot around."

       Everyone was started by the Elf's laughter. "My dear Master Nibs, forgive me. I am not laughing at you but with joy and wonder at the common-sense of hobbits. If only that creature had possessed one hundreth of your good honest hobbit-sense the world would have been a better and safer place. I'm afraid the Witch-King took me both too literally and not literally enough, in the arrogance of evil which affects all those who seek to dominate others. Even I could not possibly know how the prophecy might be fulfilled but I thought he might wonder about such as Gandalf."

       "Instead he was defeated by a hobbit of the Shire and a Shieldmaiden of Rohan. The small and overlooked triumphed, as Frodo and Sam did over his Dark Master." The Steward laughed. "The great arrogance of the powerful means they fail to see the dangers."

       "In the Shire we say pride goes before a fall," said Nibs.

       "Saruman discovered the same truth, brought down by the Ents he had dismissed and finally defeated, not by his fellow Wizards but by hobbits defending their land."

       "Our King does not think like that."

       "He is a rare one, humble despite his power, always thinking of others and not abusing the trust of those he rules."

       "He is indeed. My friends, it grows late. We should think about getting these sleepy little ones to bed and organising the night's watch," said Erithain, stroking a slumbering Freddy's curls.

       After helping to wash the dishes in the nearby stream the group prepared for rest. Brand had a whispered discussion with the other hobbit men-folk and then spoke. "We have agreed that we will take our share of the watch. We are happy to do so."

       "We should do so too," said Minta. "It doesn't seem fair for us not to."

       "Nay, we have never asked our women-folk to take the watch. Besides, two of you have children to look after and need your rest," said the Steward.

       The ladies had a hasty conversation. "In that case we will cook supper and breakfast," declared Marjy firmly. "That can be our contribution."

       "Very well, Mistress Marjy, we will take you up on that." Tarondor's words drew whoops from Dirhael and Hallas.

       "Hobbit cooking! Wonderful! And anything will be better than Elrohir's 'partridge in cinders' which we had the other night!"

       "It was hardly my fault that the wretched bird fell off the stick and landed in the fire," Elrohir protested, to laughter from Glorfindel and his brother.

       "My dear little elfling, you swiped it while making an expansive gesture with your fork!"

       "I have to say you rascally older brother is correct."

       Laughing, the group broke up. Nibs and Brand took first watch with Elrohir and Hallas, settling themselves down in the corners of the clearing. Brand fetched his bow from the cart and Nibs gathered a pile of stones, in case missiles were needed. Elrohir placed his own beautiful bow within reach and Hallas had his sword on his belt.

       Blossom and Marjy went to their tent and readied themselves for bed, undoing each other's laces and brushing hair while Gil waited outside, enjoying a last pipe before bed. When Marjy called he knocked out the pipe, scuffed the contents to prevent anything catching fire, and ducked into the tent.

       Blossom snuggled down in her blankets, grateful for Rose's advice about flannel nightwear. She could see the fire through the tent wall and hear the soft movement of horses and ponies. She felt quite safe and drifted off without trepidation. When Nibs finally slipped in behind her, draped an arm round her waist and kissed the back of her neck she stirred and threaded her fingers through his.

       "Goodnight, dearling," he whispered.

       "Good-night, love," she said, and knew no more until the first patch of morning daylight crept into the tent.

5 Afteryule, 1431 SR

Frodo started up, heart pounding. When he realised he was safe in his bedroom at Bag End he leaned back on the pillows, puffing out a breath in relief. Rufus lifted his head and surveyed his Master with concern and little Sooty toddled over, purring and head-butting.

       "I'm alright, my lads. Just a nightmare. Don't have so many these days, thank goodness." He stroked the two cats and gazed happily around his room. It was still dark outside on a winter morning and the gentle light from the little oil lamp high on the shelf sent flickering friendly shadows dancing round the walls. He had dreamed of Shelob's lair, of cobweb sticky on his face, red eyes in the gloom, the stench in his nostrils. He knew why - the previous afternoon he had been rearranging the wine bottles in the cellar and decided to investigate a section which had not been used for years. As he walked through to the next bay he had walked straight into a cobweb which brushed across his face. His cry of surprise had brought Sam, Rose and the children running, which made him feel very foolish. At least these days such incidents did not cause him hours or days of distress and he had been fine within a minute.

       His pocket watch said half-past six and Frodo realised he would not settle back to sleep after that, so he rose, donned his dressing-gown, went to the privy, washed his hands and face and made his way to the kitchen. He stoked the fire, which had been well-banked the previous evening, adding fresh kindling. Once the flames were blazing nicely he piled on the logs and hung the kettle over it to boil. He then stoked the stove which heated the tank of hot water behind it, and did the same in the larger bathroom, where a second tank supplied hot water to the two large bathing-rooms and the nursery.

      While the kettle came to the boil, Frodo went into the pantry and emerged with a side of smoked bacon, some sausages, eggs and mushrooms. He sliced a dozen rashers to start things off, and set the frying pan on the stove. By the time Sam wandered in, still ruffling his hair and yawning, breakfast was almost ready.

                                                                         ************

       Nick Cotton's whistling was heard outside, together with the clattering of milk churns. Sam fetched the empty ones from the pantry while Rose opened the door.

       "Got time for breakfast?"

       "Not this mornin' - much as I'd love to. Da needs me to go up to Overhill to pick up the new boar."  Nick placed a large jug of cream and a good-sized cheese on the table.

       "Here we are then, Nick - a bacon and mushroom sandwich!" Frodo handed over the aromatic treat and Nick's eyes lit up.

       "Thanks, Mister Frodo. That's a real sandwich that is! There was a letter from our Nibs this morning. I'm looking forward to hearing his news when I get back to the farm."

       Nick had only been gone a matter of minutes when there was a loud knocking at the front door. Frodo hastened down the passage and opened the door to the posthobbit.

       "Morning, Roly. Must be a bit crisp out there."

       "Morning, Mister Frodo. Certainly is a bit nippy. Got letters from Gondor here - and from Nibs, by the look of things." Roly handed over the packets.

       "Thank you. Lots of news to catch up on. They should be leaving Edoras by now, but this was probably given to a messenger near Isengard. I hope Blossom is coping - travel can be exciting but it makes some folk uncomfortable."

       Clutching a number of letters, Frodo hurried back to the kitchen, where seven expectant faces turned towards him.

       "One for you, Rose - Arwen's writing. A letter from Aragorn for us, Sam, and one from Nibs."

       "Hope his writing's improved," murmured Rose. She surveyed the envelope, chuckled and opened it, scanning the page and frowning.

       "What does Uncle Nibs say?" asked Ellie impatiently. Her mother stirred her tea and read the letter aloud.

Dear Sis, Sam and Mister Frodo............... Frodo tutted and Rose giggled.

       Having to finish this in a Rush, as a Kings Mesenger is on his way North to Bree and is camped with us tonite. He very kindly Offered to take our letters so we are all busy riting. Blossom is doing very well with all this Travel but we are with Elves and Rangers so feel very Safe.

Captain Erithain has been adopted by Master Freddy and is Bullied all day - are all Tooks so Bossy?He is very sad but Freddy's chatter seems to Cheer him up and we have Heard him Larf a bit. Mister Brand has asked Him to Visit the Shire next Year. His son and foster-son are Both with us and seem very nice Lads. Hard to think they are only Tweens and Rangers alreddy.

We are at Isengard where that Sharkey lived tho it is Quiet now. We have seen an Ent - Blossom was so ecksited she nearly screemed. He is called Quickbeam and is real kind Freddy just went to him and said Hello. That child is Never afrade of anything.

Hope you are keeping Well.

Love Nibs and Blossom.

       "Sounds as though they're enjoying their journey," Sam remarked, wiping Pip-lad's face with a cloth.

       Frodo nodded. "I remember Erithain - he was Halbarad's brother, and his eldest son was killed at the same time, on the Pelennor."

       "Wasn't he the one who lost his wife and daughter when their village was raided by Dunlendings?"

       "Lost his wife and daughter?" Ellie asked, looking startled.

       "They were killed, sweetling," said Frodo softly.

       "Aye, and not just killed," Sam muttered darkly in his wife's ear. Rose looked up, horrified.

       "You mean................?"

       "His daughter was fourteen or so, if I remember rightly. The whole village was massacred. Only his son and the other lad survived, so Strider said, and that was because they were hiding in the woods."

       "Poor man, no wonder he's sad. Of course they should come here!" Rose sounded concerned.

       "Bless you, sweet Rose, and that compassionate heart. Aragorn says the Shire has the power to heal hurts and perhaps that is what Erithain needs. To lose nearly all his family must be a terrible grief."

       "Read Uncle Estel's letter now!" said young Fro, wriggling in his seat. Assorted drawings and notes from the Royal children tumbled out as Frodo opened the letter and he handed them to Fro and Ellie, who bore them off into the corner to show the younger children.

       "Read yours first, Rose." Frodo settled himself at the table once more, and poured himself another cup of tea.

       Rose broke the seal on Arwen's letter and scanned it. She was soon laughing uproariously and it took some time to control her giggles. Finally she cleared her throat and began:

My dearest small sister,

Estel is being absolutely impossible! When he is not poking in cupboards and peering into drawers looking for presents (which he will not find because they are in the Steward's Wing, under lock and key) he is grumbling about the lack of cake for the Great Day and muttering because I have forbidden him to use the Palantir to watch the road to see who is coming. My brothers will laugh themselves silly when they see him - he was exactly the same when they would not take him on patrol with them, although that was 90 years ago!! Do they ever grow up, Rose? I'm sure two trolls, a group of orcs and a dragon would be less trouble! I think I have four children, not three.

We were all so happy to read your last letter and learn that you are carrying another child - what a loving family you are, and how delighted Frodo must be. I hope things are going well for you and you are not too tired or queasy. I seem to remember you saying you felt worse with boys than girls and Frodo has said this will be a girl - or a lass, I should say. We shall miss you all on the day and it would have been a joy to see you again, but you need to take care of yourself.

Rufus sounds a wonderful cat - how brave of him to confront an adder to save the little ones. I am sure they love and appreciate him as much as he does them and they are lucky to have him.

Keep well, and I shall be thinking of you as the time draws near for the babe to be born.

My love always,

Arwen.

       Frodo was reading the letter from Aragorn and rolling about, clutching his ribs and gasping. Sam was almost helpless.

Beloved small brothers,

I am the victim of a triumvirate of tyranny! My wife, my Steward and my Steward's lady all conspire against me, hiding birthday gifts and forbidding me to look at the road between the Shire and Minas Anor. Even my children have been recruited to this dreadful conspiracy and follow me around constantly. Gilraen wags a finger at me and has threatened to take lessons in wielding a tea towel from her Aunt Rose. You will no doubt be laughing by now as you imagine your old friend cowed and hen-pecked. Venturing to war would be less dangerous than crossing Arwen at the moment, but we have signed a peace treaty with Harad and the Corsairs of Umbar show no inclination to start trouble, so I am behaving myself perforce.

I am sorry you cannot be here, but the news that Rose is to have another baby is wonderful. She and Sam are certainly doing as you asked and filling Bag End with a big family. I hope she is well, although my glimpses in the palantir show she is blooming and beautiful. I shall miss you at the party, my dearest hobbits, but I know you are happy in the Shire, and another new life will soon be entering the world.

Take care of yourselves, each other and the family. I hope brave Rufus is well. His behaviour in defending the children from the snake was intelligent and courageous. He is a true guardian and should be dubbed a Knight - Sir Rufus of Bag End.

I shall now go and throw myself into work. No doubt Faramir will have found another two hundred papers for me to sign, although I signed a similar number yesterday. Why do we need so much paper?  Where does it all come from? Life was less complicated when I was simply another Ranger patrolling the Wild - at least I never suffered from writer's cramp!

Your loving tall brother,

Strider

       The Bag End kitchen was full of laughter as everyone pictured the King peering into cupboards and grumbling to himself. Frodo shook his head, still giggling.

       "Oh Strider!" It was the only thing to say.

Blossom tucked in a little closer to Nibs and sipped at the cup of spiced mead, the smell redolent of Yule and frosty days in the Shire. She had a cloak spread over her knees but the number of warm bodies in the Golden Hall kept it at a comfortable temperature even with the great central fire out and the doors open to the night sky. She could see stars glittering like diamonds above the plains of Rohan. The huge cressets outside the doors were also dark and the only light inside the Meduseld came from one torch in a sconce on the wall behind the dais and a flickering candle-clock nearby. When all the red wax was burned down it would be midnight and the beginning of the new year.

       On the other side of the hall she could see Lord Gloin and King Thranduil deep in conversation. At one point the Dwarf said something and the Elf threw back his head and laughed. It was strange to see those two being so friendly after Mr Bilbo's tales of Thranduil locking the Dwarves in his dungeons, but no doubt the great affection between their sons had brought them closer. Nearby sat Glorfindel and the Twins, talking with the younger Rangers and some of Eomer's housecarles.

       On the dais Queen Lothiriel cradled little Aelfrede while young Eowyn sat on her father's lap. Elfwine sat with several of the other lads who served as pages, playing knuckle bones as the time passed agonisingly slowly. King Eomer shifted his daughter's weight to his other knee and conversed with Tarondor and Erithain. Blossom thought the king of Rohan very handsome and charming, and enjoyed teasing Nibs by saying so frequently, just to see her husband scowl slightly. Eomer was wearing the crown of Rohan and a sumptuous embroidered tunic in dark green, decorated with a running horse and golden sunbursts.

      Eomer glanced once more at the candle clock, turned to Brand and raised his eyebrows in unspoken query. The hobbit took out his pocket watch and nodded. The King of Rohan set his daughter on her feet and stood up, lifting the torch from its bracket. In the sudden hush he walked down into the hall and strode towards the dark hearth. The light from the flames glinted in his hair and beard and sparked red fire in the crown. Nibs wondered how kingly Lord Estel would look in his crown.

       "My friends! The Golden Hall has not seen a gathering such as this since my uncle's funeral and the betrothal of my sister Eowyn. The hour is come. The old year dies and passes his torch to the new year, and we light the fire of Meduseld with a flame from the last year's fire, thus passing strength and good fortune from year to year. This flame was first kindled by Eorl himself, from the light of Anor as it shone upon Dunharrow. May Bema and the Powers bless and guard us all."

       He raised the torch high and then lowered it slowly into the pile of fresh kindling and logs. The oiled wood caught light quickly and hungry flames licked along each piece, reflected in the faces of those watching.

       Everyone held their breath, charged goblets at the ready, as Eomer stepped outside and lit the two enormous cressets in front of the doors. As he re-entered everyone stood and cheered, raised their glasses and drank.

                                                                        *************

       A few days into the new year and a large procession set out from Edoras - Elves, Dwarves, Men and Hobbits, accompanied by the King and Queen of Rohan and their escort. Lothiriel urged her mare close to the hobbits' carriage and smiled at them.

       "Blossom, you said you are nervous of horses and ponies. Would you be willing to ride with me for a while? Nimrodel is very gentle and has carried my children many times."

       Within a few moments Blossom was up on the sorrel mare, seated in front of the Queen of Rohan. She was very wary at first but gradually felt herself relax. The Queen chatted easily, tallking of everyday things, until she felt the tension drain out of the hobbitess.

       "You know, I was terrified of horses at one time. I fell off one when I was little and after that I refused to ride."

       "What changed your mind, my lady?"

       "I fell in love with the King of the horse-lords," Lothiriel said with a smile, her gaze flicking to the head of the procession where Eomer rode with the Steward of Arnor. "I realised I could hardly become their queen if I refused to go near a horse. I asked him to teach me to ride - men feel flattered by that sort of thing. I'm sure if you ask Nibs he will be only too happy to teach you. Eomer too would be delighted to help."

       "Would the King of Rohan really be willin' to teach me to ride?" Blossom was unable to keep the surprise out of her voice and Lothiriel laughed.

       "He enjoys instructing others, and there is no finer horseman in Middle-earth." She lowered her voice. "Besides, all men enjoy showing off just a little."

       "That's true, my lady," Blossom said with a chuckle, and patted the mare's neck. This journey was becoming ever more interesting and enjoyable.

                                                                         *********

       As they rounded the skirts of Mount Mindolluin their vision was filled by the jagged peaks of the Ephel Duath. Lord Tarondor road alongside the hobbits'carriage.

       "Those are the Mountains of Shadow."

       Eomer nodded and smiled down at Blossom who was riding with him, gaining confidence on horseback. "Beyond lies Mordor," he murmured.

       Blossom shivered. In the land of Mordor, where the shadows lie......... The words rose unbidden in her mind, sinister and brooding. Then she smiled. There were no shadows in Mordor now, thanks to Mister Frodo and Sam. The mountains did not look any more threatening than any others, their steep sides covered in gorse and small plants which clung to the rock, hugging the inhospitable slopes and providing small pockets of colour.

       The White City rose before them in the morning sun, gleaming walls and the Tower of Ecthelion piercing the sky, the great black banner slapping in the breeze. On the fields around them people tended their crops and animals, singing and talking, waving to the great procession.

       "What is that?" asked Marjy, pointing to a green mound.

       "That is Snowmane's How, where we buried my uncle's noble horse after the battle," replied Eomer. "Poor beast, it was not his fault that he crushed his master in his agony."

       "That must be where the Witch-King's beast was burned," said Brand, indicating a barren patch of earth. "Frodo says nothing ever grows there."

       Close to the foot of Mount Mindolluin stood a black marble obelisk. It was a memorial to all those who had lost their lives on the Pelennor and in the defence of Osgiliath, and it also marked a mass grave. Erithain and his sons saluted as they rode slowly past, and many others did so too, out of respect for the lives which had been lost.

       "Is Captain Halbarad buried there too?" Gil asked Tarondor.

       "Yes, Habarad and Eldacar were buried with the men of Gondor. Erithain and our lord King both thought it was an honourable resting-place."

       Blossom looked at the people looking after their crops and livestock just as well as hobbits of the Shire. A small boy steered his goats out of the way and smiled shyly at the Elves and Dunedain, but his face broke into a grin of genuine delight when he saw hobbits in the party.

       At last they approached the great gates of Minas Anor, which stood open. Blossom and the other hobbits stared up at the magnificent workmanship, the mithril figures which dwarfed everyone. The wood was so thick they had to be opened by machinery and they looked capable of stopping a charging dragon.

       They were so enthralled by the sight of the city and the gates that they did not at first notice the two Men standing just outside. Freddy Took saw them before anyone else in the party, and shrieked in a carrying voice,

       "Uncy Estel!! We've come for your birfday!"

       "Freddy! You have grown into a mighty warrior already!" The King strode towards them, arms outstretched. and Freddy took a flying leap from Erithain's horse and landed with his arms round Aragorn's neck, much to the amusement of the watching crowd.

       Soon everyone was dismounting and embracing their King and his Steward, as well as Gimli and Legolas, who had been unable to resist the prospect of seeing the visitors first. The children were hugged and bounced, baby Jonquil was passed around like a parcel, gurgling and crowing, and Aragorn embraced Erithain with some emotion. He knew how difficult the journey must have been.

       "Erithain, my dear cousin, it fills my heart with joy to see you again - and how proud you must be of these two!" He indicated Dirhael and Hallas, who bowed before embracing their King.

       "I have been privileged to experience what Lord Tarondor refers to as 'the healing power of hobbits'." Erithain smiled down at Freddy. "Master Freddy has made our journey much lighter by adopting me. His personal project seems to be to keep me cheerful and see that I smile more."

       "And it works, I see. No-one like hobbits for keeping anyone cheerful, and no better hobbit than a Took." He beamed at Blossom. "I did not think you would travel so far, Mistress Blossom."

       She curtseyed. "Couldn't have you celebratin' a birthday like this 'un and no-one from Hobbiton to help. Nibs really wanted to come and I decided to stop bein' an addle-pated goose and join him."

      "I'm delighted that you did. Come, let us ride to the Citadel. Arwen and Eowyn are trying to keep the children calm but they will explode if they don't meet you soon."

                                                                        ************

       The ride to the Citadel took their breath away. There were so many people, so much bustle, the buildings were all like palaces and the shops so full of goods that Marjy could not believe her eyes.  The crowds cheered and threw flowers and called out greetings, asking after the Lords Iorhael and Perhael.

       They all dismounted at the Sixth Level, and the horses and ponies were all taken to the stables. Faramir had seen to it that the carts containing all the gifts were whisked away during the procession, in case Aragorn decided to peer in and prod any of the packages.The Steward's Apartments were becoming rather full.

       Blossom curtseyed to the two women standing by the steps. She felt soft hands raising her and gazed into blue-grey eyes so full of wisdom and gentleness that her nervousness fell away. She had never seen anyone more beautiful than Arwen Undomiel and struggled to say something.

       "I must say," Arwen whispered, crouching and holding Blossom's hands in hers, "Master Nibs looks very like Rose. Welcome, my dear Blossom. I hope you will enjoy your time in Gondor."

       "I'm sure I shall, my lady Queen. Nibs does take after his Ma for looks so he does look like Rose."

       Eowyn greeted all the guests affectionately and the children embraced them with unbounded enthusiasm. Glorfindel found himself claimed by little Melian, Torni rode on Eldarion's shoulders and Freddy bowed to Arwen very solemnly before deciding the beautiful lady needed a big hug. Gradually the guests were shepherded inside and shown to their rooms, where cake, fruit and juices awaited them.

       The hobbits gazed around, enchanted by the hobbit-sized rooms and furniture. Blossom had never imagined such luxury and ran about the room, peeping in all the drawers and cupboards and gasping at the bathing-room next door, filled with soft towels and scented soaps. This was the adventure of a lifetime.      

Captain Anrion, the officer in charge of the Citadel's night guard, stood in the little guard-house and looked out across the Courtyard of the Fountain. He grinned as he watched a shadowy figure detach itself from the greater darkness of the doorway and lope down the steps. The man moved like a cat!Many a young soldier on his first night duty had challenged the supposed intruder, only to be patted on the shoulder and complimented on their watchfulness at the end of a long night. Had anyone ever challenged Lord Denethor they would have found themselves in a cell for a week to contemplate the error of their ways. No wonder the Guards of the Citadel and the Royal Bodyguards were willing to give their lives for him. The Captain often wondered why the King rose at such an early hour and privately thought that, were he King of the Reunited Kingdoms, married to Queen Arwen and celebrating his hundredth birthday, he would not rise until midday at the earliest.

       The King glanced towards the guard-house and beckoned the Captain to join him. Anrion strolled over and saluted.

       "Good morning, Captain. Care to join me?"

       "Thank you, my lord King. May I be the first this day to wish you a very happy birthday."

       Aragorn smiled. "Thank you. You are indeed the first. I expect you wonder why I do this - get up before dawn and come out here?"

       "I would be telling an untruth if I said I had never wondered, but it is none of my business, my lord."

       The King chuckled. They reached the Keel of the Rock and he gazed towards the Mountains of Shadow. The stars were beginning to fade and in the east, where once only foul darkness lowered, the sky was lightening, almost imperceptibly at first. A few vague twitterings in the trees on the city's upper levels announced that the birds were stirring.

       "I come here to watch the dawn because this to me is a miracle. I remember the Dawnless Day and the oppressive suffocating cloud of evil which hung over Sauron's land, and to see the sun rising above the Ephel Duath is the greatest sign that life has truly changed. And I also remind myself that everything I have - my kingdoms, my beloved wife and children, the safety of the Free Peoples - is due to two small hobbits who walked from their lush green land into that barren wasteland, willing to give their lives for Middle-earth. That is humbling indeed, and kings should remain humble."

       Anrion looked at the King with new respect. He also remembered, as a young soldier, standing on the walls and trying to repel the invaders. The memory of those human heads flying over, smashing on the rooftops and on the ground before them, still haunted his dreams sometimes, together with the cries of the Nazgul, the stench of orcs, the crackle of burning buildings, the screams of the wounded and dying and over everything that great evil darkness.

       They stood in companionable silence, watching as the eastern sky turned silvery-grey and then a soft peachy gold. Tiny high puffs of cloud stained pearly pink. It seemed as though the world was holding its breath in anticipation. An Ithilien blackbird opened its throat and launched a series of liquid bubbling notes into the air and was answered by a thrush in the White Tree behind the two Men.

       "Now comes the moment," murmured Aragorn softly.

       The highest peaks of the Mountains of Shadow were suddenly revealed, gilded with the light of Anor. Flat darkness gradually became angles and crevices, shadowed in soft blues, purples and browns as the light flowed down like pale honey. Anrion thought it the most beautiful sight he had ever witnessed and he knew he would never take this moment for granted again. Goats began to forage the foothills and on the higher slopes antelope bounced fearlessly from ledge to ledge. There was still a chill in the air but the sky was full of the promise of a fine day.

       "In southern Mordor there is a great salt lake where huge flocks of pink birds gather - millions of them. The salt is so strong that I'm amazed their legs don't burn away but they seem to manage and find food there. Have you ever seen them flying over?"

       Anrion nodded. "In Lebennin we call them flamingoes. They look very strange."

       "The creations of Yavanna are infinitely varied." The King smiled. "I said that kings should be humble and I think that applies to anyone who holds high office. Have you ever climbed a mountain, Captain?"

       "No, my lord King, I cannot say I have."

       "The air is very thin on the high peaks. It can be a struggle to breathe and sometimes one can become quite ill. It also makes it very difficult to think clearly, and high office is similar in that respect. The altitude has an effect. It can be disturbingly easy for some people to believe in all that fawning and bowing and scraping, and they forget to whom they owe their power. I never want people to say that of me."

       "I am quite sure no-one will ever say that of you, my lord."

       "I'm glad to hear it. My wife and children keep my feet on the ground and the hobbits most certainly do so. Mithrandir always said that everyone should have a hobbit or two in his care."

       "They do have a very solid and earthy approach to life, I must say." He peered down at the southern Pelennor, where sheep and cows were walking out to begin the day's grazing. "You have a busy day ahead, sire."

       "Oh yes. I shall have breakfast with my family and guests and I suppose there will be some official business, birthday or no birthday. Then I shall go down and pay my respects at the Memorial. I know we remember them on the anniversary of the Ring's destruction but I just feel that, today of all days. I need to do that. I need to remember all those who gave their lives in the struggle against Sauron. Then there is the banquet, of course, and I'm told there will be gift-giving, although my Steward refuses to tell me where those gifts are. I suspect there are hidden rooms in the depths of the Citadel which even I don't know about."

       A young page approached and bowed. He carried a tray with a glass decanter and two small glasses.

       "Join me. I know one is not supposed to drink spirits at this time of the day - and the sun is most definitely not over the yardarm, as they say in Dol Amroth - but I believe I am allowed to break the rules on such an auspicious day. Ths was my gift from Thain Paladin - a dozen bottles, a cut glass decanter and six glasses and a silver tray."

       "Thank you, sire." Anrion looked at the golden liquid in the decanter. "May I ask what it is?"

       "This is whiskey. It's a speciality of Tuckborough. They make it from malted barley apparently, and last year we tried the eighteen-year vintage. This is the Thain's Special Reserve - matured for twenty-five years in old brandy casks." Aragorn poured two glasses. "I have also asked for a barrel of ale to be placed in the guardhouse. Every man coming off duty is to have some. I have also arranged for their shifts to be shorter, to enable every man to spend some time with his family or enjoying the entertainment."

       "Thank you, my lord King. They will certainly appreciate that and will enjoy drinking your health. May you have many more birthdays." He sipped. He had been expecting firewater; he was surprised to discover that the liquid slipped down as gently as syrup, the taste a magical combination of subtle flavours, complimented by a smokey quality he had never encountered before. "This is so smooth. I was not expecting it to be of such superb quality."

       "Never underestimate hobbits, particularly in the matter of food and drink, my friend. They brew the finest ale, they perfected the art of smoking and growing pipeweed, they spend months developing recipes and yet, when they are forced into a corner they will risk all to defend what they love. They really are the most amazing creatures." The King sighed happily and savoured his whiskey. His only regret about the day was that Frodo, Sam and Rose were not there to share it with him but he was hoping to sneak away to the White Tower during the afternoon to look into the Master-Stone and see them enjoying the celebrations in the Shire.

       The new group of guards arrived to take over and the Night Guard were soon supplied with ale. They saluted their King and added their good wishes before departing. Aragorn thanked them with smiling good humour, bade farewell to Anrion and returned to the Royal Apartments for breakfast.

                                                                         ************

       Breakfast was a cheerfully chaotic affair. The Royal Family were joined by the hobbits, Legolas and Gimli and the Steward and his family. The hobbits had been surprised to see the amount of Shire produce on the table; Rose obviously sent a great deal of honey, jam, home-made wine and pickles to Gondor, where they were much appreciated. Nibs shared the King's liking for black cherry jam and between them they made short work of the dish. Arwen poured more tea and gave her husband a nod and a meaningful look, at which he hurried into the next room and returned with some small boxes.

       "Well, my dear hobbits, in the best Shire tradition I have gifts for you."

       "We were not expecting you to do this, my lord Estel. It is your birthday and we don't expect you to follow hobbit traditions," Brand protested.

       "Ah! I have been told I'm an honorary hobbit so I should act like one. Besides, it will give me great pleasure to see you open these."

       The menfolk found beautifully crafted Gondorian straight-stemmed pipes of walnut, with ebony stems decorated with mumak ivory. The ladies were overwhelmed to find silver necklaces, each one different and with carefully chosen gemstones. For Phlox they were pink amethyst, delicate blue quartz for Araminta, deep purple amethyst for Marjy and yellow topaz for Blossom, who had never owned such a wonderful piece of jewellery. They embraced Aragorn joyfully.

       "When you go to your rooms you will see why we chose those colours for each of you.," said Arwen with one of her gentle smiles. "Why don't you have a look."

       The squeals and gasps from the hobbits' apartments were reward enough. Blossom could not believe her eyes when she saw the clothes laid out upon their bed. For Nibs there was a warm brown suit with a yellow waistcoat embroidered with gold thread, while for her there was a silk dress in a delicate primrose yellow with a deep gold sash. She could hear Marjy, in the room across the corridor, whooping with joy. They returned to the dining-room and tearfully hugged the royal couple. No words were necessary between friends.

                                                                        ************

       While all the ladies scurried off to put the finishing touches to the gifts and assemble The Cake, which they had managed to keep secret from the byrding, the men set off for the Pelennor and the Memorial. Aragorn, Faramir, Eomer, Legolas and Gimli, with the Rangers, the Twins and Glorfindel and the hobbits. Freddy and Torni begged to be allowed to join them, and people smiled at the sight of the two little faunts riding on the shoulders of the youngest Rangers. People were gathering to greet the King and offer flowers and little gifts but they were content to wait until the party returned, respecting his wish to remember those who died in the struggle against Sauron. The hobbits recognised several of the shopkeepers, many of whom had told their own stories of the darkest days of the Ring War - the man who lost his leg, the woman who lost her husband and had her home and shop smashed and burned. The hobbits now knew how much suffering other races and lands had endured, and on their return they would make sure the Shire-folk and Bree-landers realised that.

       Gloin and some of the Dwarves joined the group on the Fourth Level and King Thranduil and the other Elves were waiting outside the gates, close to where their bright pavillions stood. They made their way to the towering black marble obelisk and Aragorn stepped forward to lay a sheaf of lilies and white roses. The perfume rose and filled the air. He stood with head bowed, deep in thought for some minutes before encouraging the others to join him. Little Freddy and Torni bowed very politely, as they had observed others do. Erithain patted Freddy gently on the shoulder and crouched beside him, deeply moved at the sight of this tiny, usually fidgety, hobbit child respectfully silent and still.

       As they finally moved away, Freddy turned back and waved.

       "Are you waving to the Memorial, Freddy?" his father asked.

       "Uh-uh." The child shook his head. "To the Man."

       "What Man? I can't see..........."

       "I can," Legolas whispered to nods from the other Elves.

       "Freddy?" said Aragorn quietly, crouching down. "Can you describe the Man for me?"

       "Misty folk. Looks like Ewithain...........'cept he has a scwatch here." Freddy drew his finger down Aragorn's left cheek.

       "A scratch. Do you mean a scar - like this one?" He pointed to the scar on his own upper lip.

       Freddy nodded. Tarondor leaned down to murmur in Brand's ear. "Halbarad took a Dunlending arrow in the face twenty-five years before he died. Has Freddy seen things before?"

       "Oh yes. He call them misty folk. He has no fear of them at all and regards them as friends. Of course several of the Tooks have 'the Sight' and Frodo - and Pippin to some degree - have always had it."

       Erithain stared at the Memorial. "I wish..............."

       "I think that is part of the problem, my friend. You wish so much to see them and sometimes that very desire prevents it. Allow your vision to drift slightly." Aragorn advised.

       Freddy smiled. "'Lo, Dir....." He glanced back at Dirhael, puzzled that the young Ranger seemed to be in two places at once.

       "I see them!" Dirhael whispered.

       It was then that, for Erithain, the miracle finally happened. He saw his brother and son, clear and solid as they had been in life. They looked so alike and they were both smiling. It is time to let go, you ass! You have had sorrow enough. Enjoy the Days of the King! said his brother's voice in his mind.

       Freddy pushed Erithain's mouth into a smile. "Smile, Ewithain," he said, and the Man did so, even though he had tears in his eyes. "See! They want oo to smile."

       "Do they? How do you know?" the Ranger asked in a teasing voice as the figures faded slowly.

       "Told me," replied Freddy confidently. "Oo must smile. It Uncy Estel's birfday."

       Erithain swung Freddy up onto his shoulders. "And they are right. It is our King's birthday and smiles will be the order of the day." He felt as though a great weight had rolled off his shoulders at last. He now knew his loved ones were happy and it would be a rejection of all they had fought for to go on wallowing in misery. He would learn from the hobbits and embrace life again.

       The walk back to the Citadel for luncheon took much longer. People wanted to greet the King, hand him flowers and tell him how much he meant to them. One woman presented her son, a handsome lad of almost twelve years. Aragorn was genuinely delighted to see them and while he spoke with them Faramir related her story.

       "When the Battle of the Pelennor was over, our King came into the Houses of Healing and brought me back from the dead. He did the same with Eowyn and Merry, and people realised who he really was. Poor man, he was overwhelmed with people pleading for help and he worked for hours to do what he could. As he made his way out of the city to his tent, a woman begged him to help her sister, who was labouring with her child. Her husband had been killed that day and she refused to do anything to help the child to be born. No doubt she wished to die and join him. The King began to talk to her, telling her that her son would be a credit to both his parents and needed a mother to look after him. She realised that she did want the child after all and began to push, and minutes later he was born. Our Lord Elessar says that bringing life into the world that night gave him hope for the future. The boy's only ambition is to serve in the Citadel Guard and when he is eighteen he will begin his training."

       Gil nodded. "To see a King after all those years must have inspired the people. No wonder they all adore him."

       Aragorn re-joined the group. "I think we need luncheon. These long-suffering hobbits missed elevenses."

       "Good thing Pippin isn't here," murmured Brand. "We'd never hear the last of it!"

       Laughing, the party made their way back to the Seventh Level.

On the way back to the Citadel they were met on the Sixth Level by the ladies and children, who steered them towards the stables. Eomer took charge.

       "It is time for you to see your gift from Rohan - part of your gift, I should say. The other part will be presented at the feast later." He led the way to the holding stall in a secluded area, and two of the Rohirrim led out two very noble-looking horses, clearly of the Mearas. "These two mares should be a suitable addition to the breeding stock of the Royal Stables. One is grand-daughter to Shadowfax, as you can see from her colour, and the other is sister to my own mount."

       Aragorn spoke softly in Elvish and both horses responded with soft wuffling noises. The white horse - and she was silver-white rather than grey - licked his face and the pale gold mare snuffled at his clothes, clearly expecting a treat. One of the grooms handed the King some apples and he fed the new members of his equine family.

       "They are quite perfect. Eomer, my friend, thank you. To have the line of Shadowfax in Gondor's horses is an honour indeed. What are their names?"

       "I leave their naming to you, my brother. You are now their lord."

       Aragorn looked at the two beautiful mares, one silver and one gold. Arwen smiled as the same thought took shape in her mind.

       "There is only one pair of names to give these two magnificent creatures - Laurelin and Telperion, after the Two Trees of Valinor."

       Faramir looked delighted. "That is a perfect choice, my lord. Most apt."

       Gil-galad, Aragorn's horse, poked his head over the door of his stall and eyed the mares appreciatively.

       "Typical!" Eowyn laughed. "He has noticed his new wives already!"

       "Adar!" Gilraen began to pluck at her father's sleeve. "Come and see Uncle Sam's gift."

       "Oh yes, do come!" Eldarion grasped Aragorn's hand. Melian was already toddling speedily in the direction of the gardens, her little face a picture of determination.

       Everyone bade farewell to the horses and followed the excited children. Nibs and Brand pointed to a group of saplings in large pots and Aragorn saw young oak, elm, ash and birch trees as well as several varieties of fruit trees.

       "That's not all, adar!" Eldarion gestured towards an area where the gardeners were taking down canvas sheets which had screened a large section of the garden for weeks.

       "Close your eyes," murmured Arwen, taking his hands and leading her husband forward. "There! Now you can look."

       Aragorn opened his eyes and gasped. One whole corner of the gardens had been transformed into a Shire Spring, with glowing crocuses in jewel-like colours, delicate nodding cyclamen flowers, creamy primroses, early violets, bright blue early speedwells, fragrant hyacinths in deep blue and pink, sweet wallflowers, shy narcissi and cheerful daffodils. At the back stood blackthorn bushes, their boughs heavy with snowy blossom, pink flowering cherry trees and golden forsythia.

       "Sam has been sending bulbs and saplings for months, in order that this should be ready for today," said Faramir, smiling. "He designed this before their visit ended and has been writing to the gardeners with instructions for the care of these Shire plants since they returned home over a year ago."

       "It is utterly beautiful and will ever be a reminder of the loveliness of the Shire." Aragorn bent to examine the smaller plants, marvelling at the bright colours and the nodding trumpets of the daffodils.

       "I can't wait until we visit," said Eldarion fervently. "I want to stay there for a whole year and watch all the seasons and see all the flowers and trees in bloom." He had an Elven love of growing things.

       Aragorn laughed. "Patience, my son, patience. We shall be going north soon and you can all play with the Shire children and run barefoot round Hobbiton to your hearts' content."

                                                                         ************

       Prince Imrahil's gift was a new and extremely fast sailing ship, small enough to be manned by a crew of five. These were traditionally raced off the coast of Dol Amroth and Aragorn enjoyed the sport immensely.

       Faramir presented his soveriegn with a set of detailed drawings for a family-sized retreat which he had built in Emyn Arnen, where the King and Queen and their children could enjoy peace and quiet and informality. They could hardly wait to stay there and Arwen was looking forward to carrying out simple household tasks for her family.

       Gimli returned from his room with a very long box which he presented to Aragorn. "No non-Dwarf has ever been given one of these, but you, my brother, are a very special case - although I daresay the pointy-ear will receive one soon," he added wryly.

       Aragorn opened the box and pulled back the layers of cloth to reveal a magnificent dwarven battle-axe. He was fully aware of the honour; Dwarves did not share their traditions with other races, and a battle-axe was as special to a Dwarf as Anduril was to him.

       "The runes on the blade proclaim the axe as the property of Estel, hope of the Free Peoples of Middle-earth. I put all your other names on the handle, since there wasn't room for them on the blade, laddie." Gimli gave a throaty chuckle.

       "I don't know what to say. Gimli, my dear friend, I am truly amazed."

       "Hah! I've never known you lost for words before."

       "It seems there's a first time for everything," said Elladan.

       "Uncy Estel! Uncy Estel!" Freddy and Torni hurtled into the room bearing small, gaily-wrapped boxes. "Happy birfday!"

       Aragorn took the boxes and opened them carefully while the little faunts hovered about, anxiously awaiting his reaction. Torni's gift was a deftly carved eagle and Freddy's a hound, the image of Pharos who slept before the fire and endured the games and teasings of the two cats with equanimity. The faunts had watched a disabled veteran of the Pelennor Fields carving various animals at the entrance to a shop on the Third Level, and were enchanted.

       "Why, these are beautiful! I shall treasure these, my young friends." He scooped the small hobbits on to his lap and hugged them. "Now I have gifts for you also."

       Eldarion trotted in, carrying presents, and the excited faunts were soon squealing with delight as they opened packages containing new suits of clothes - Torni's in dark blue and Freddy's in a rich gold - and wooden swords. For little Jonquil there was an exquisitely carved teething-ring in mumak ivory and a delicate silk dress.

                                                                         ************

       Following an early luncheon the children were packed off for a nap. Aragorn made his way to the chamber at the top of the White Tower, to look into the Master-Stone and see what was happening in the Shire.

       Crickhollow was a hive of jollification - Saradoc walking around with little Theo in his arms, Merry and Pippin dancing on a table, Esme scolding the unrepentant pair for the banner which proclaimed Happy Birthday, Strider!' and Diamond and Estella giggling together as they watched their husbands scoffing slices of iced cake.

       In Tuckborough the Tooks were party mood. Persimmon was clearly bossing everyone, young Primula was dancing with one of her cousins and Paladin and Eglantine presided over the celebration with enormous enthusiasm. A great iced fruit cake was carried into the centre of the field and the Thain cut the first slice.

       Hobbiton was full of happy hobbits. The Party Field was full of groaning tables laden with pies, cakes and bottles. Lily Cotton was handing out pasties, Jolly Cotton ladled steaming soup into bowls and Ivy Sandyman was basting the meat with Tully Noakes. They looked very comfortable together and Aragorn raised his eyebrows and grinned as he realised what this might signify. Sam, Rose and Frodo sat together at the top table, almost hidden behind a huge cake. Aragorn humphed a bit at this - everyone had cake except him apparently!

       "Did you see the Shire? Are our beloved friends celebrating your birthday in suitable style? They muct be having fun." Arwen greeted him when he returned to the Royal Apartments.

       "They are indeed having a great deal of fun. They are also having a great deal of cake! Everywhere I looked there was cake! Do you think I somehow offended Rose without realising it?"

       "I shouldn't think so, dear," Arwen replied, in what her brothers and Legolas teased her was her 'wifey voice.' "Now I think you should go and change. We must be in the Hall of Feasts first this day, in order that you may greet each of your guests." She shooed him in the direction of his dressing-room.

       "Your clothes have been laid out for you.

       There was Arwen's gift - a silver silk shirt, dark blue velvet tunic and trousers, a sleeveless over-gown in blue and silver and a beautiful black cloak embroidered with the blossoming White Tree in mithril thread dotted with tiny gemstones and pearls. The tree seemed to have its roots at the hem and grew up the whole length of the cloak. Arwen's breathtaking skill was obvious in every stitch. He stretched out his hand and stroked the embroidery, aware that these clothes had been made with love.

                                                                          ************

       The King and Queen stood together to greet each guest, joyfully embracing old friends, crouching to hug various children. Azarafti, ambassador from Harad, had been astonished the first time his children were included in an invitation, since official banquets were not normally a place for children, but he had grown used to the King's way of doing things, and his sons and daughter were overjoyed to be invited. They ran to the Lord Elessar to give him their greetings, jumping up to be enfolded, admiring the King's clothes and chattering away in fluent Westron.

       "Congratulations, my lord Elessar. May the gods smile upon this auspicious day and grant you and both our lands peace and prosperity."

       "I sincerely hope so, my lord, and thank you for your good wishes. I am delighted to have you and your family here to share this day with us. Lady Yashimi, your beauty increases every time I see you."

       Azarafti's wife giggled and bowed. "Thank you my lord Elessar. I join my husband in wishing you many more such days."

       When all the guests were in the Merethrond, King Eomer spoke.

       "My lord King, whom I am honoured to also call friend and brother. What does one give a king on his hundredth birthday? Like our friend Gimli, I wished to honour you by giving you something not normally given to someone outside Rohan." He took a beautiful golden sunburst from a cushion held by one of his housecarls. "As my uncle once said to Gandalf, I hereby create you a lord of the Mark and chieftain of the Eorlingas while our kin shall last. May we never need to call upon your aid in war, but only in peace and celebration!"

       The two kings embraced, to applause from everyone.

       Various gifts were presented by the guests and taken to the far end of the Hall to be displayed, together with those which the King had received earlier. There was a wonderful portable writing desk from the Master of Buckland, made from oak and inlaid with different woods in a decorative pattern of wildflowers and seed-heads; a magnificent silver punch bowl and ladle from Thranduil and the Mirkwood Elves, the handle of the ladle in the form of a swan's head; and a superb fifty-piece dinner service in delicate white porcelain with a silver tracery pattern and a black and pale blue rim, a gift from his beloved small Knight of the Citadel.

       Azarafti bowed and presented the King with a long box. Curious, Aragorn opened it and pushed aside the layers of silk to reveal a finely wrought curved sword with a hilt studded with pearls and gemstones.

       "It was made for my great-grandfather, many years ago."

       "It would surely be wrong to deprive your son of a family heirloom," Aragorn protested.

       "Were it not for you - and the Ringbearers - my family would not be as complete as it is. I consulted my father and brother on this as well as my sons, and they were adamant that this sword should be presented to you as a token of our gratitude."

       "Well then I am honoured and will treasure it always. Let it be a symbol of peace between our two lands."

       The lord of Harad knelt and kissed the hand of the King. "I should like to send a gift to the Ringbearers, but I am sure they would not appreciate a weapon of any sort. I need to seek your advice on this, my lord Elessar."

       "No, such gentle souls would not wish for weapons but they would appreciate your gift and the thought behind it. I shall give the matter some thought."

       "The trumpets sounded and the Lord Chamberlain arrived to conduct the King to his seat at the high table.

                                                                         ************

       "There is another gift, my lord King, " said Faramir, bowing. He nodded to the guards and the massive candle holders were hauled towards the ceiling on great chains. A door opened and light was visible, illuminating the passageway with flickering fire. Six of the kitchen's sturdiest cooks entered, carrying a table on which was the largest cake anyone had ever seen. In fact to call it a cake was an understatement. It was a work of art. It stood more than six feet high and was made up of seven tiers, in honour of the seven levels of the White City. Each tier was covered in white icing and edged in icing shells. Around the sides of each tier were small shields of thinly cut wood which had been painted in black. On each, painted in silver, was a symbol of Aragorn's life, beginning with Eriador, the Trollshaws and the gates of Rivendell on the lowest and including tiny maps of Rohan and Gondor, the Ring of Barahir,the Shards of Narsil, the Star of Arnor, Cerin Amroth, Anduril Reforged, and ending on the topmost tier with the White Tree, the Sceptre of Anuminas, the Seven Stars and the Winged Crown. Black and silver ribbons were looped around, fixed in place by the shields and tied in bows. Ten large black and silver barley-sugar-twist candles blazed at the very top.

       "It's a cake," Aragorn mumbled.

       "See what an Elven education does for you, laddie," said Gimli, grinning widely. "You recognise a cake when you see one!" Behind him, Legolas snorted in a most un-Elf-like manner and Brand was almost sure he heard Glorfindel snigger.

       "You surely did not think Rose would allow such a special day to go by without sending a cake, did you?" Arwen was smiling.

       "Silly adar!" said Gilraen fondly.

       "Rose and May have outdone themselves this time," said Faramir.

       The hobbits were convulsed at the sight of the King's dumbfounded expression. He had truly not suspected a thing. Arwen had been very convincing in her disappointment that Rose found herself unable to supply a cake this time, and the children had added their woeful expressions to complete the picture, while the hobbits seemed very regretful and sympathetic.

       "You knew about this?" Aragorn asked a smirking Dwarf.

       "Of course I did. I made the cake tins for the bottom two tiers. They needed to be larger than any in the Shire or Bree so I made them specially. They were baked in the baker's oven in Hobbiton too."

       "Dreadful really. I'm sorry, my lord King, but we really wanted this to be a complete surprise."

       Faramir did not look too regretful. He had a huge grin on his face, and the hobbits were just as bad. Even Erithain was grinning, and the little hobbits could not contain their glee.

       "Rose made the cake and iced it, May did the decorative icing, Sam and Pippin cut the tiny shields and Merry and Frodo painted them, Ivy Sandyman supplied the ribbons and I'm told the twins who run the candle stall made the candles specially. As you can see it was a communal effort," said Gilibard, laughing.

       "Rose threatened me with a painful death if I let slip that we'd brought it with us - and if any of the icing had fallen off I wouldn't have dared go back home," declared Nibs.

       "It would have meant the tea towel for sure," said the King solemnly.

       "What is a tea towel?" asked the Lady Yashimi in a whisper to her husband. The Queen's Elven hearing caught the question and she came to Azarafti's rescue.

       "It is a cloth used to dry dishes. Rose is expert at flicking it in such a way that it catches the unwary just behind the ear, which is particularly sensitive in hobbits. Pippin is the most frequent victim."

       "The Lady Rose attacks Captain Peregrin with a cloth?" Azarafti asked in astonishment.

       "Oh yes. Pippin takes it in good part. He begs to be scolded and rapped over the knuckles with a wooden spoon by nosing in pots and pans on the stove and asking when the meal will be ready. And Frodo and Merry say it is good for Pippin to be treated firmly."

       "You really are all utterly incorrigible and cruel to convince me there was no cake," Aragorn said, but he was grinning.

       "I think you'd best blow out those candles afore they set fire to the cake," Nibs remarked, ever practical.

       A set of wooden steps had been thoughtfully placed beside the table and the King cast aside his cloak and climbed up.

       "Make a wish, adar!" cried Eldarion. "Uncle Frodo says you have to make a wish."

       Aragorn took a deep breath and blew out the candles, to loud cheers and whoops from everyone. He closed his eyes and made a wish, then stepped back to allow the court painter to sketch the creation before it was cut.

                                                                         ************

       "Two more gifts, my lord," said Faramir, entering the Great Hall once more. Several servants walked behind him, one carrying a flat, rectangular package and three others bearing a long roll of what looked like a carpet.

       "Eowyn, has your husband become a conjuror? I keep expecting him to produce white rabbits from his sleeves and coins from behind my ear!"

       Eowyn laughed. "I think these must be the last two. The flat parcel is from Merry and the giant rolll is from Frodo."

       "I shall save Frodo's till last I think." He felt along the edges of the parcel, which was at least four feet wide. Opening one end revealed a wooden frame and he pulled the paper off quickly, eager to see what it was.

       Gasps of delight rippled round as the last of the wrappings slipped off. There, painted by Merry's skillful hand and seen through his loving eyes, was the Bag End family, smiling and joyful. Aragorn was thrilled to have a proper portrait of the whole family and spent several minutes just looking at it and smiling as he showed Arwen and the children.

       The royal children finally grew impatient and full of curiosity about the last gift and their father hastened to satisfy their inquisitiveness. Two pages came forward and assisted by helping to unravel the roll.

       "It must be a carpet!"

       "I think it is a wall hanging."

       "It's very large............"

       At last the magnificent gift was revealed in all its glory. It was a tapestry, made in the finest Shire wool, with a border full of various animals, birds, flowers and insects. In the centre was a picture of breathtaking beauty.

       "It's the view from Bag End!" Aragorn exclaimed. "This is the view from Frodo's front doorstep."

       Everyone crowded round to admire the picture so finely worked in stitches so tiny it was barely believeable. There were the smials of New Row, the gardens a riot of colour; Tully Noakes' sheep were small puffs of white in the fields beyond, and in the Party Field the slender silver trunk of the mallorn reached towards the sky, topped with a crown of gold.

       "I think that must go in your study, Estel. You can hang it on the wall opposite your desk, and then you can visit the Shire when matters of state become too appressive."

       Aragorn thought about that. "I could......or we could have it in the sitting-room and then we can all enjoy it. Frodo, my beloved small brother, you have a knack for giving just the right gift."

                                                                          ***********

       A little later, enjoying their first taste of Rose's finest fruit cake, Azarafti and his family wandered to the other end of the Hall to look at the many gifts. He wished to take a closer look at the portait of the Ringbearers, having missed their visit to Gondor because his father's severe illness had called him home. He studied the picture carefully.

       In the centre, in a comfortable looking chair with a velvet seat and carved arms, sat a pretty female hobbit. She wore a blue dress and matching blue ribbons in her hair, and her lips curved in a little secret smile. She held a hobbit child on her lap, who clutched a brown woolly toy dog and sucked reflectively on its ear. One the floor at her feet, on what was obviously a very fine carpet, was another child who was engrossed in arranging some wooden farm animals. Next to him was a small girl child, who wore a pink dress with embroidered roses on the skirt. She held two rag dolls and was busy with some wooden blocks. Between the two children sprawled a large orange and white cat, who reclined indolently and seemed to be ignoring the tiny black kitten who was pawing at his tail. To the right of the small lad on the rug was a creature Azarafti recognised but was surprised to see in a picture from the northern lands - a tortoise. To Mistress Rose's left stood a sturdy-looking hobbit with corn-coloured curls and gentle hazel eyes, who wore a pale gold waistcoat and dark brown cord trousers. His left arm was round a delicately pretty child with very fair hair and intense blue-green eyes. On the other side was a lad who could only have been the son of Lord Samwise, with the same soft gaze and strong build. His arm bent upwards, he was holding the hand which rested on his right shoulder - a hand which lacked a finger.

       The lord from Harad gazed long at the face of the Ringbearer, gripped by wonder and a sense of bewitchment. Frodo Baggins stared out, his blue eyes twinkling with the light of the stars. He had unusual features for a hobbit, as Aazarafti understood them, with a straight nose, high cheekbones and very dark hair. The eyes were most arresting, full of hard-won wisdom, resignation and gentle acceptance. The mouth curved in a genuinely good-humoured smile which indicated that he was obviously at ease with the artist.

       The King joined the Haradri in his scrutiny. "Rose has the smile of a woman who knows she is with child but has told no-one else. I believe Merry painted this in early Halimath but added the kitten in later. He probably did the preliminary sketchs in the summer."

       "The Lord Frodo looks a remarkable person."

       "Indeed he is, and I hope one day you will meet him and Sam."

       "Well, little brother, have you enjoyed your birthday?" Elladan enquired.

       "Need you ask?"

       "And you thought there would be no cake! How did the hobbits manage to keep that a secret?"

       "Faramir hid everything in the Steward's Wing!" Elrohir added. "Anyway, being a hundred is nothing. You're a mere child, Estel. Why, when I was that age I was still behaving like an ellon."

       "You still do!" Aragorn declared, laughing.

       Blossom sat quietly eating her cake and taking in as much of the experience as she could. She found it difficult to believe that she was sitting in the Hall of Feasts in Gondor, surrounded by Elves, Dwarves, kings and princes, fine lords and ladies, wearing a silk dress richer than anything she had owned, helping the King to celebrate his birthday. She wanted to pinch herself.

       "Blossom Cotton, you really have changed, my lass," she murmured. "What a day it's been. What a perfectly lovely day!"

Finally - apologies for the long delay. The Muse returned from a very long holiday!

The celebrations in the Shire had settled down. The hobbits were filling up the corners after supper and confining their strenuous activity to toasting the King's health. Children drowsed on laps and Rufus patrolled the tables, scrounging scraps which he shared with his mother and Sooty.

       A sudden crackle in the air and a spray of light made everyone jump.

       "A shooting star!"

       "It's going up, not down."

       "Gandalf! He's giving Aragorn a firework display in his own way." Frodo laughed as another gold and silver torrent curved up from the West.

       Small hobbits woke and raced to see the lights, oohing and aaahing at each one. Fragments of a silver sword melded together to gradually became a whole one. A ring with two serpents and golden flowers followed, then a leafless tree which slowly came to life with silver leaves and huge blossoms unfurling. Seven great stars curved over the tree and above these appeared a winged crown.

       In the Courtyard of the Fountain the assembled guests cheered and applauded. Azarafti was dazed; even the Wise themselves paid tribute to this king, and apparently these star pictures came from the great Incanus himself. He looked down at his children, who were wide-eyed and open-mouthed. His eldest son stood between Crown Prince Eldarion and Lord Elboron, all watching intently. This was no natural event - each picture was clearly a representation of some important element of the King's life.

       "Thank you, Gandalf my dear friend," the King murmured. "I am honoured that you do this."

                                                                         ************

        On the day after 'the Birthday' the King spent some time at his desk but by noon he was free to join everyone for luncheon, and afterwards they all made their way outside to sit in his new Shire garden. Arwen's ladies had been given the day off and the hobbit lasses were acting in their stead, together with Lothiriel and Eowyn.

       Arwen sat with her embroidery frame before her, the other ladies worked on their sewing or crochet and lace-work, and Araminta took out her watercolour paints. Like all the Goolds she was artistic; Merry had inherited his talent from his grandmother Menegilda. She tried to capture the scene before her, while Blossom marvelled at the sight of so many Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits and Men sprawled beneath the young saplings.

       Glorfindel lounged comfortably on the grass. Little Torni slept on the Elf's chest, his fingers gripping the fine velvet robes. Freddy was snuggled with Erithain and little Eowyn had claimed Legolas. The Balrog-slayer and the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen exchanged a glance and a grin as they observed King Thranduil. The Elven King was leaning back against one of the young birch saplings and looked very relaxed. Legolas was astonished to see that a tiny hobbit baby was cradled against his father's shoulder.

       Thranduil noted his son's surprise. "It is long since I held such a young one, and she asked to come to me."

       "She did," agreed Araminta. "Waved her arms and squawled until Lord Thranduil took her, then she quieted at once and fell asleep. That's quite a gift, my lord."

       "I thought I might have lost it after so long. My youngest son could be noisy at times." He twinkled at Legolas, who snorted.

       "Still is!" Gimli muttered teasingly.

       Glorfindel laughed. "Not so much time has passed since I held a child." He glanced at Aragorn. "I believe it is just less than one hundred years, is it not, Estel?"

       "Oh dear. Don't tell me you're going to relate embarrassing tales of my childhood? We'll be here for a month!"

       Gloin puffed on his pipe. "My son had the strongest pair of lungs in Erebor. Smaug could not have made more noise."

       "Nothing changes," Legolas quipped, ducking Gimli's half-hearted swat.

       "You should have heard my sister - when she was born in Edoras the people of the Westfold knew about it instantly!" Eomer darted a glance at Eowyn, who laughed and stuck her tongue out.

       Blossom sat listening to the exchanges, giggling quietly as she worked. She was busy doing some very fine crochet-work, making a delicate shawl as a gift for the Queen. The market places and shops had such a wealth and variety of materials, threads, colours and decorations that she found it difficult to choose, but had finally selected a rich purple. Arwen had admired the colour, although she had no idea she was to be the recipient, and Blossom was delighted. She thought about the shops and markets, so full of noise and bustle. Six months ago she would have fled in terror from crowds of Big People, and she was surprised at how much she now enjoyed browsing the shops and examining the silks and threads and other merchandise. She had never imagined there were so many items to be purchased.

       "Did I hear you say 'fire-spraying machine?" Aragorn asked Gimli suddenly.

       "My own invention," the Dwarf replied proudly.

       "What does it look like, and where are you planning to use it?" Erithain enquired, sounding genuinely interested.

       Gimli smiled. "It's a box, on wheels, full of oil, with a sort of bellows attachment and a pipe where the oil comes out and is set on fire. We're going to re-take Moria, laddie!"

       "What!?"

       "I reason thus: the West Gate is still blocked. We have a watch on the East Gate and we know the orcs have not emerged. Lord Gwaihir and his people have confirmed this. The orcs have to eat something, so presumably they're ............." He tailed off in deference to the presence of ladies.

       "Eating each other?" said Arwen brightly.

       "Aye. So hopefully their numbers must have reduced. The flames from my machine will bring them down from the walls - and fry the foul little........creatures in the process!"

       "I think my son wishes to begin this enterprise so that I may see our people in possession of Moria before I die," Gloin remarked. "I am hale but old, and I have long wished to see Dwarves in the halls of Khazad-dum."

       "Then the Rohirrim will help in any way we can." Eomer was almost on his feet, eager to begin.

       "We're not going right now, laddie," Gimli said, his eyes twinkling.

       Eowyn broke the thread with an audible snap and looked up, her eyes sparkling.. "I believe my brother regards it as his duty to kill every last Orc in Middle-earth."

      "Are you saying it isn't?" he enquired, looking puzzled and slightly shocked.

      Tarondor glanced at his Chieftain and King for confirmation. "I believe the Rangers of the North will wish to help in this enterprise."

       "The bows of the Greenwood are yours in this cause," said Thranduil quietly. Gloin leaned over and clasped the Elf-king's hand.

       "We in Imladris offer our aid also." Glorfindel smiled at Gimli.

       Brand looked thoughtful. "I'm sure some hobbit bows would not come amiss either."

       "I'm sure the Men of Gondor and Ithilien would also wish to offer whatever help you need," murmured Aragorn. "But one thing I would insist on for all who go into Moria. Armour will be worn by everyone - Elf, Dwarf, Man and Hobbit. The orcs of Moria may be reduced in number but one arrow may kill a man and I would not see a single life lost, even in so noble a cause."

       Everyone nodded. The King spoke wisely. It was known that the orcs smeared poison on their arrows.

       "It will need to be a well-planned operation." Faramir said.

       "Don't fear, it will be. We have some plans of Moria and I have added what I learned while we were there. I very much doubt the orcs have repaired the bridge so we will take rope bridges with us. Lord Gwaihir has also promised aid should we need it."

       "Can we come too?" Dirhael turned to his father, who looked somewhat alarmed. "We'll be careful. We just want the chance to help Lord Gimli and his people."

       "And we'd like to fight while there's still some orcs left," added Hallas.

       Erithain smiled grimly. "Only if I come with you."

       "I can hardly wait," said Eomer eagerly, rubbing his hands. "The thought of them still skulking in there burns within me. I shall enjoy rooting out every last one."

       "Just one thing," murmured Gimli, grinning. "You'll have to leave your horse outside!"

       Servants working all over the Citadel heard the eruption of laughter from the gardens.

                                                                          ************

       Nibs remembered that he had a gift from Rose for Lord Azarafti and after tea he decided he would deliver it. Legolas, Gimli and Isumbrand expressed a wish to accompany him down to the Fifth Level and Blossom was happy to go too. She was curious to see the inside of a house in Gondor, particularly a house belonging to someone from such a different culture.

       Two guards followed at a discreet distance. It was known that the King loved the Pheriannath and there were always a few disaffected people who might attempt a kidnap to exert pressure upon the King or even simply cause him grief. The Umbarians were still defiant although their fleet had been totally destroyed, and Aragorn did not trust them at all. Legolas carried his knives and Gimli never went anywhere without his throwing axes.

       Azarafti was delighted to see them and welcomed them inside. Blossom was surprised to see low couches and huge cushions spread on the floor. Brand, ever the adventurous Took, was eager to try one of the cushions and flopped down. Blossom and Nibs sat together on one of the couches. Lady Yashimi ordered coffee, fruit juice and sweetmeats to be brought.

       "So my friends, what brings you here? We are delighted to welcome you to our home."

       "Thank you, my lord. My sister Rose asked me to give you this." Nibs handed over a wooden box.

       Curious, Azarafti opened the lid. Inside was a folded sheet of fine notepaper and underneath that were six large jars. He drew one out and looked at the rich red substance inside and the beautiful script on the label which said: Spiced Tomato Chutney. Halimath 1430 SR .      

       "The King told Rose how much you enjoyed it when it was served at a banquet so she thought you'd best have some for yourself."

       "I am overwhelmed at the Lady Rose's generosity. She does not even know me and yet she would send a gift?"

       "We're hobbits, we enjoy giving presents. She was delighted to hear how much you liked her chutney. She used to make it plain but about four years ago the King sent some little red things - chillis I think they were called - to the Shire and Rose tried a small amount in her usual chutney. Don't half give it a kick, if I may say so!" Nibs laughed and so did everyone else.

       Azarafti unfolded the letter and read the neat rounded hand of Rose Gamgee.

Dear Lord Azarafti,

I hope I got that right - I have copied it from our King's letter so it should be.

I have heard that you like the chutney so I thought you might welcome half a dozen jars, which should last a while. Some people find it a bit too hot but the Lord Elessar tells me you are used to highly spiced food in your land. I never thought I'd take to it but after we ate it on our visit to Gondor I've discovered some very useful combinations. I tend to try different spices in Shire recipes but I reckon the recipes from Harad would be really interesting.

I wish good health to you and your family.

Respectfully,

Rose Gamgee.

       "What a magnificent gesture! How kind of her." He examined the letter and then looked again at the label on the jar. "The writing on the letter does not look the same as that on the labels."

       Nibs peered at the jar. "No, that's Mr Frodo's writing. He usually does the labels when Rose is doing preserves."

       "This is the Ring-bearer's hand?" Azarafti looked at the jar in some awe.

       Brand smiled fondly. "Frodo enjoys helping in the kitchen. Most hobbits do, and Rose has cared for him devotedly. They are like brother and sister."

       "So Lady Rose would like to try some of our recipes? I'm sure I can find a book to send to her, and some of our spices. I shall look into the matter at once."

        "Well that is very kind of you, my lord. Rose will be very honoured I'm sure."

       "I am still wondering what I can send to the Ring-bearers. Weapons will not do in their case. Lord Samwise is a gardener, is he not?"

       "The finest in Middle-earth," said Legolas with a smile.

       "I wonder if he would like a fig tree. One of the hardy ones might grow in a sheltered spot."

       "What is a fig tree?" Blossom asked.

       "You are enjoying those fruits, Mistress Blossom?"

       Blossom looked at the fruit in her hand. "They're lovely. I've never tasted anything quite like it."

       "That is a fig. If Lord Samwise can grow it until it is large enough to produce fruit then you can eat them more often." Azarafti sipped his juice. "The Lord Frodo is something of a puzzle to me - what can I send to him? What would he think a suitable gift? What is he like?"

       Brand thought for a moment. "Frodo loves books - poems, tales - and he has a great love and compassion for all living things. He will carry an ant or a spider outside rather than step on it. He is gentle, witty, intelligent and wiser than anyone else I know."

       "I will think on what you have said, Master Brand. I should like to find something which he would appreciate fully."

       "I believe we met your brother the other day, my lord. Our King directed us to a very fine shop on the Third Level and told us about the man who owns it. I remember Pippin and the others talking about meeting some of your people in Ithilien after the War." Brand selected another honey cake and settled back on his cushion.

       "Yes, Shefir is my brother. I thought him lost in the Dark Tower until I came to this city four years after the Eater of Souls was overthrown and discovered my little brother alive and well and the father of a healthy son. Our old rulers would not have welcomed the survivors back, you see. They would have called them traitors and had them executed."

       Nibs processed this information with difficulty. He found such reasoning very hard to follow. Blossom was also finding it difficult to understand.

       Azarafti chuckled. "It is a great pity that more people do not possess the common sense of hobbits, my friends. The world would be a better and safer place if they did."

       Gimli leaned forward. "Are ye sure you've met Peregrin?"

       The room exploded into loud laughter.