Author notes: I began posting my AU tale “Quarantined” in December of 2002, and finished it in May of 2003. I’m still amazed that it eventually inspired a dozen short and full-length sequels. When I wrote “The Vault of Annúminas” in 2007 I expected it to be the conclusion of the series, and wrote it as such. But…. here we go again. In this story there are many references to “The Vault of Annúminas” (and other “Quarantined” tales, such as the Dwarves' promise to rebuild Annúminas in “When the King Comes Back”).

Frodo has remained in the Shire and did not sail West. He was healed of all weariness and despair – through a method to be explained in this story – and travels with his friends to Lake Evendim to enjoy the visit of King Elessar and Queen Arwen. In this AU, the king does *not* greet his friends at the Brandywine Bridge, as the Professor wrote, but arranges to meet them at Annúminas.

According to the Professor's timeline, Gimli is 157, Aragorn is 105, Frodo is 68, Sam is 56, Merry is 54, and Pippin is 46. Pippin has been the Thain of the Shire for two years, Merry has been Master of Buckland for four years, and Sam has been elected Mayor of Hobbiton for the second time.

Special thanks to my wonderful beta-Mom for suggestions and encouragement.

DISCLAIMER: The Professor’s wonderful characters don’t belong to me; I just get to think about them day and night.
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THE RINGS OF EVENDIM

Chapter One: The Road Less Taken

S.R. 1436 King Elessar rides north, and dwells for a while by Lake Evendim. Appendix C, The Return of the King

"Here they are!" Frodo cried out. "Didn't I tell you?"

"Truly amazing," Merry agreed, looking around. "And this is a perfect spot to rest before the final stretch." He brought his pony to a halt and dismounted.

Sam gazed up in wonder at the trees Frodo had been excitedly describing for the last mile, which now lined both sides of the smooth, well-marked trail on which they were travelling. He handed the cart ponies' reins to his daughter Elanor, got down from the front seat and joined Merry in examining the nearest tree. They walked slowly around the massive trunk, shaking their heads.

"It would take a dozen hobbits to ring this, hand in hand," Sam marvelled.

"I know," Frodo said. "Seedlings of many unique plants – like these trees – were brought to these shores from Númenor, the island in the western Sea that was drowned long ago; Aragorn said that they grow now only in isolated parts of Eriador."

"Don't you mean 'King Elessar Telcontar?" Pippin teased. He straightened his Gondorian tunic, of which he was immensely proud. He had put it on before leaving The Royal Roost that morning.

"I'll try not to embarrass you when we get to the city, Peregrin," Frodo said with a grin. "It took me long enough to learn to call him 'Aragorn'." He dismounted, stretched his arms up, and breathed deeply of the soft springtime air. Many of the flowers north of the Shire were as unfamiliar as the trees, and gave off a sweet mingled scent.

"What's a 'city', Dad?" asked Frodo-lad. He bounced up and down in the thick straw in the cart carrying him, his brothers Merry and Pippin, and sister Rose-lass.

"Every city I've seen has been different," Sam responded. "Rivendell was all arches and water and light. The Lady's city was green and gold, with mostly trees and glades and song to gladden the heart." At Sam's mention of the Lady, a gentle smile of remembrance lit Gimli's face. The Dwarf was driving the cart bearing the boxes of gear, satchels of clothing, provisions, playthings for the children, and gifts he had brought all the way from Rohan to Bag End. "Minas Tirith – now that was a sight," Sam continued, "carved into a mountain with turrets and streets of stone. And Edoras... more Shire-like it was, with its villages, and croplands as far as the eye could see."

"You have not seen Aglarond," Gimli said, his eyes glittering with pride, "although it is far too soon to call it a 'city'. In these scant years since our labors there began, we have begun to bring beauty and order back to the caverns, and make a home for ourselves. I have brought with me many crystals and gems as gifts from my folk to Aragorn's northern capital."

Elanor got down from the cart, and went to help Uncle Pippin prepare a snack of fruit and biscuits for the children. Because of the many new inns that had sprouted up in the once-sleepy Northfarthing, they hadn't needed to bring the vast store of provisions a party traveling from the Shire to the northern Bounds might once have needed, had any chosen to make such a journey.

The fifteen-year-old found herself alternately excited to meet the King and Queen, and wishing her mother had come with them. Although still two months away from giving birth to her eleventh child, Rose hadn't yet wanted to risk the long journey; as the royal party would be in residence for a year or more, there would be plenty of time to meet them. Rose was already planning a trip north in the autumn with Aunt Estella and Aunt Diamond, and as many children as could be managed.

"How far is Annúminas?" Gimli asked, still not entirely comfortable when surrounded by towering trees.

"You'll see it when we get to the top," Frodo promised, pointing further up the steep, winding trail that led to the top of the southernmost arm of the Evendim Hills. "The view of the lake is unbelievable; that's why I wanted to come this way, and not by the new road through Greenfields. I suppose the old guard tower's been rebuilt by now, along with everything else; this path used to be nothing but broken paving stones and high grass." He remembered that magical journey 40 years ago as if no time had passed. Closing his eyes, he could imagine that Elladan rode nearby wearing the sling holding a sleeping pup, the Elf's voice singing sweetly.

"I'm surprised that no one has come to meet us," Merry said. "They know we're coming by this trail."

"I'm sure there's a good reason," Pippin said calmly. He washed sticky peach juice from Rose-lass' face with a damp cloth, then helped Elanor put everything away. "Come on, let's go. Merry, those trees will still be here when we come back." He took a drink of water, and sighed. "I hope there's been time to build a few good inns in this new city."

"Perhaps the northern Dwarves have heard of your exploits, Gimli," Merry said, getting back on his pony. "After all, you're now lord of a realm in your own right."

Gimli laughed. "I do not ask for recognition for any achievement… save perhaps having known the favor of the Lady, and being one companion in a courageous Fellowship."

"There was barely anything left of Annúminas when I last saw it," Frodo said. "I'm so eager to find out what the Dwarves have accomplished."

"As am I," Gimli said. "Few of my relatives remain in the Blue Mountains, but I hope to meet more descendants of those who have dwelled there since ancient times."

Pippin looked up at the sun, checked the ornate pocket watch he had inherited from his father, and frowned.

"We're going to be late," he announced. "Sam, you can pick flowers when we get there."

"Late?" Frodo laughed. He good-naturedly got back on his pony. Sam climbed back up on the cart-seat and gave his handful of blooms to Elanor, who tucked them into her belt.

"Pippin, do you know something we don't?" Merry asked suspiciously.

"Maybe I do and maybe I don't," Pippin said calmly. "I am a squire of the King, after all, and privy to certain information."

"Such as?" Frodo asked, but Pippin just smiled.

The party rode for another half hour, and although the trees and foliage obscured the view ahead, Frodo knew they must be nearing the top. As they rounded the last bend, Pippin suddenly gasped, and sat up straighter.

Everyone looked up, and Frodo felt a thrill of excitement run through him. There before them was the wide clearing he had been watching for, but it was not the barren hilltop he remembered. All along the summit stood a line of men in glittering armor and helms. As one, the men unsheathed their swords and raised them high in salute, the blades flashing and glittering in the sunlight. As Gimli and the hobbits approached, the line slowly parted in the center to reveal a man standing alone. Tall and richly dressed, and bare-headed except for a shining gem on his brow, he stepped forward, smiling broadly.

"Estel!" Frodo cried out, forgetting everything else in his joy. He jumped down from his pony and ran the remaining distance. The men gaped in amazement as King Elessar knelt and opened his arms wide, and Frodo flew into them.

"Estel," Frodo whispered, "I'm so happy to see you,"

"As am I, little one," the King whispered back, returning his friend's hug. After a time he pulled back to look at Frodo, surprised and delighted by what he saw.

"You look well, my dear friend," he said, the relief evident in his face. "Remarkably well, in fact."

"As do you, Your Majesty," Frodo grinned. "I have much to tell you." He stepped back and bowed.

Elessar sighed. "None of that," he said, but Frodo just grinned. The King called out a glad greeting to Gimli, then it was Sam and Merry's turn to race forward. After a warm embrace, the King looked about to see that Pippin stood apart, his eyes shining with love and devotion.

"Sir Peregrin," Elessar said softly, beckoning Pippin forward.

"My king," Pippin whispered, overcome with emotion. He drew his small sword and laid it at his liege lord's feet before hugging him fiercely. When the King rose to his feet, he wiped a tear from his cheek before addressing the hobbits.

"My friends," he said, "I am overjoyed to see you again. I hereby proclaim you citizens of Annúminas and all of the North-kingdom of Arnor, for now and always, you and your descendants." He pulled a scroll tied with blue ribbon from his belt and handed it to Pippin. "Thain Peregrin, will you bear my declaration to the Shire, and keep it safe?"

"I will," Pippin promised solemnly.

The King then asked Sam to bring forward the excited children. When presented to him, Elanor curtseyed with a grace that Elessar noted, suspecting that his queen would be quite taken by this lovely, golden-haired lass. When all of the greetings were done, he went to Frodo and took his hand.

"Come, little one," Elessar said softly. "Look upon what has risen from the grass and ancient stones you remember from our adventure long ago." He turned to face the waiting men. "Do you welcome the Ring-bearers, Frodo and Samwise, to our city?" he called out to them. "Do you also welcome Meriadoc, Knight of Rohan and Master of Buckland, and Peregrin, Knight of Gondor, Steward and Thain of the Shire? Do you welcome Gimli son of Glóin, Lord of Aglarond?"

"Aye!" came a thunderous shout from all the men, most of whom had heard of the Ring-bearers only in tale or song. They felt honored to be present.

The King led Frodo to the very top of the hill, followed by the others. With a shout, the children suddenly raced forward, each hoping to be the first to spy the city far below them.

"Ohhhh," everyone breathed in awe as they reached the edge, and peered down. A silence fell over the group as they gazed in wonder at the largest lake any of them had ever seen, and a city unique in all of Middle-earth. But Gimli's eyes looked first to the west, and his heart was full as he saw the Blue Mountains in the distance - his birthplace, and home of what remained of his northern kindred.

* TBC*

Author notes: My thanks to Larner for reminding me that Gimli was most likely born in the Blue Mountains; I have made a few corrections to Chapter 1 on this point.  I also polished Chapter 1 to add a few things lost in the final editing.

THE RINGS OF EVENDIM

Chapter Two:  A Royal Welcome

S.R. 1436 Elanor is made a maid of honour to Queen Arwen.  Appendix C, The Return of the King

The ride down to the valley was gentler than the ascent to the summit had been, the wide path descending in winding loops that afforded an easy passage for the ponies and carts.  The King’s Men marched proudly at the head of their monarch and his guests, and Merry unhooked the silver horn from his belt and blew a clear note that echoed for miles.  Elessar walked next to Frodo’s pony, with each hobbit child taking a turn on his shoulders.  He pointed out various sights below them, greatly enjoying the hobbits’ delight in what they were seeing.

The populated areas of Annúminas clustered around the lake on its eastern and southern sides, with the orchards, pasturage, forests, and croplands covering vast areas to the northeast.  The children exclaimed over the boats out on Lake Evendim, which the King explained were for both fishing and pleasure.  Sam, Merry, and Pippin simply gazed, astounded, at the lake itself: a body of water so large its opposite shores could be discerned only from the highest peaks.  Frodo told everyone about the abundance of fish waiting to be caught, and Elessar smiled to himself, lost for a moment in gentle memories.

Annúminas of the Fourth Age was a still-growing city, spread out over a huge area.  The Dwarves were rebuilding it in the same star-shape as its predecessor, with roads radiating outwards from a central marketplace.   Flags and pennants flew from nearly every home and shop in honor of the King and Queen’s arrival and the Ring-bearers’ visit.  As the King, the hobbits, and Gimli reached the bottom of the hill at last, there were cheers and glad greetings from every direction, although the merchants and townsfolk kept a respectful distance.

“I will take you first to the guesthouse,” Elessar told his friends.  “It is near our home, and Arwen is eager to see you.  Sam, we know that the children must be getting hungry and weary, and she wanted to ensure that all is in readiness.”  Sam nodded in gratitude.  A fine horse was led to the King, and he dismissed the men, who scattered throughout the city eager to relay everything they had seen and heard.

The King slowly led the way through the city, explaining the layout of the buildings and parks, and where each road led.  A sweet sound filled the air: the splash of sparkling fountains carved into the shapes of sea creatures, stars, ships, and trees.  Brightly-colored birds darted back and forth amongst them.

As the sun began to sink behind the Blue Mountains, and the air cooled, they came at last to a fine stone bridge.  They crossed the Brandywine River and climbed a rise of land where, set apart with a lovely view of the lake, the royal residence stood.  It had been built from sparkling white stone, and adorned with precious gold and mithril.   Green lawns were dotted with groves of the massive, ancient trees, and Sam exclaimed in delight at the well-manicured gardens.  Neat paths wound in and out between a complex of low buildings, and a short distance away they could see a large stable and horse-racing track.  The King led everyone to a building set apart from the others, built in stone of soft colors of brown and tan and nestled amid low hedges beginning to bloom.  The sound of soft music came from somewhere close by, and the air was full of the fragrance of flowers.  The tired hobbit children perked up at delicious smells of cooking.

Everyone dismounted, and the children jumped down from the cart, brushing hay off their clothing.  A group of respectful men came to tend the ponies and the King’s mount.

“Leave the carts, if you please,” Gimli advised them.  “We will unpack them ourselves.”

“Lady Arwen!” Frodo suddenly called out in delight.  And there was the Queen herself, emerging from the guesthouse.  The hobbits and Gimli went to greet her. 

“Welcome to Annúminas, my friends,” she said, her voice musical and sweet.  “This will be your home while you dwell here, and you will find many things already prepared for your needs.  You have but to ask if there is anything you require.  I know you must be weary after your long journey; there are hot baths waiting, and a meal that I hope will suit you.”

“Hooray!” shouted seven-year-old Pippin.

“Mind your manners,” Sam reminded his son hastily, but Arwen only smiled.  She asked the children to come forward, and, to their delight, she called each one by name and sat on the green lawn to speak with them.   At first shy, the boys were soon telling her all about their trip.

“And did you enjoy the journey, young Rose?” the Queen asked.

“Yes, thank you, Queen Arwen,” Rose-lass said.  “You’re so pretty.  Is supper ready?”

Sam sighed.  “I give up.  Go on, all of you.  We'll join you soon.”  He was relieved to see that the boys remembered to bow to the King and Queen, and Rose-lass tried her best to curtsey.  Then, with a whoop, they ran to the house and disappeared inside. 

Only Elanor remained.  Feeling as if she had wandered into one of her father’s stories come to life, she took the flowers from her belt and shyly offered them to Arwen, who accepted them graciously.

“I have been looking forward to meeting you, Elanor,” she said, and the young girl blushed.

“Dad and Uncle Frodo have told us so much about you,” Elanor said, finding her voice at last.  “May I?” she ventured, feeling brave enough to touch Arwen’s gown.  The fabric was exquisitely soft, with colors reflecting the same fresh greens as the valley itself. 

“This is called silk,” Arwen explained.  “If you enjoy sewing and crafts, there is much we can teach you about the gathering of the fibers, and their weaving.”

“Oh yes,” Elanor breathed.

“Supper is waiting, Elanorellë,” Sam reminded her, but the girl was gazing enraptured at the Queen.

“Perhaps this would be a good time, Samwise?” Arwen asked.  Sam smiled, and nodded assent. 

“Elanor,” Arwen said quietly, “your parents and I have been corresponding, and they have given me consent to ask something of you.”

“Ask me?” Elanor asked in astonishment.

“Yes,” the Queen continued. “As the eldest of our dear Samwise’s children, I wonder if you would consent to join our court – here in the north, and also in the south should you ever travel there.”  Elanor gasped.  “Your duties would be light and – I hope – enjoyable.  All of the resources of the royal court will be open to you, and you may learn what we have to teach of craft, music, lore, or whatever best suits you.  When you are of age, along with your father and uncles you would represent my lord husband and myself as our representative.”

“I would love that,” Elanor whispered.

Frodo, Merry, and Pippin came to stand next to Sam, pride and delight shining from their faces.

From a pouch at her waist, Arwen drew forth a delicate silver chain from which hung a gem of clear blue, and a mithril bracelet that fit the girl’s tiny wrist perfectly.  As she helped Elanor put them on, the girl felt a joy so buoyant she was certain she could have floated back to the Shire that moment, and again wished her mother could be there.

“I hope to meet your mother later this year,” the Queen said, discerning the girl’s thoughts.

“We’ll be back, you can be sure of it,” Sam said, as Elanor ran to hug him.

“Maid Elanor,” the king said, “we welcome you as a member of our court, and our family.”

Eyes filled with tears of joy and unable to speak further, Elanor curtseyed to the King and Queen, her golden head bowed in respect.  Sam watched proudly as his daughter displayed the modest grace which so complimented her beauty, and received an honor he knew would transform her life.

“Join your brothers and sister now,” Sam said gently to his daughter.  “We’ll be along soon.”

“Thank you,” Elanor said to Arwen, radiant with joy.  As she ran to the house, eager to share the news with her siblings, Gimli returned.  He had been puttering about, inspecting the pillars and stonework... most often nodding with satisfaction, but a few times shaking his head, muttering to himself in his own tongue.

“Friend Gimli,” the Queen said, getting to her feet,“I know there are many in Annúminas who wish to have speech with you.  Please come and go as you please.”

“You seem less than pleased with your discoveries, Gimli,” Elessar said.  “Does the work of your northern kin not meet with your approval?”

“It is sound work, and well crafted,” Gimli assured the King.  “However, I must tell you of my dismay that your residence is not as large or well appointed as I deem it should be; do you wish me to speak with the builders?”

“I appreciate your concern, but as Arwen and I will not be in residence very often, I chose not to take up much land for ourselves.  Northern winters can be harsh, and my people deserve to use as much pasturage and farmland as they need.” 

“Very well,” Gimli said, not entirely convinced.  He had imagined that the northern capital would rival Minas Tirith in grandeur.  He headed toward the carts, and began to unload them.

The King turned to Pippin.  “Sir Peregrin, you are off duty until further notice.  I trust you will discover each of our fine inns, and sample their wares accordingly.”  Pippin grinned and nodded.  “Frodo,” the King continued with a twinkle in his eyes, “be sure to visit The Hobbit, the Elf, and the Ranger.  I highly recommend it.”

Frodo gasped, then burst into laughter.  “You remembered!” he said.  “Oh, Aragorn, it’s as if no time has passed at all since we were here with Elladan.”

“King Elessar,” Pippin hissed at him.

“It is all right, Pippin,” the King said with a smile. “For all of you, I will always be Aragorn, or Strider, or even Estel, if it pleases you.”

“Aragorn for me, then,” Frodo said gratefully.

Arwen came to Frodo, and took his hands in hers.  “My dear friend, I sense a balanced energy about you which I did not expect.  When word reached us that you did not sail with my father, I feared for you.”

“It has been a long road for me, but one of great healing,” Frodo said.  “Speaking of healing, there is something I am eager to tell you and Aragorn… in fact,” he said, glancing at Sam, Pippin, and Merry, “we four have been keeping somewhat of a secret, and have agreed that it's time to share it. Gimli, this concerns you, as well.”

“Perhaps tomorrow?” Pippin asked plaintively.  “I’m starving.”

Elessar laughed.  “Please go to refresh yourselves, my friends.  We will speak more tomorrow, and for many days after that.”

Before it got too dark to see, Frodo turned to look back at the top of the hill down which they had travelled. Some distance west of the trail, his eyes sought the place where he remembered the ancient Hallow would lie. And at the foot of the hill would be…

“Yes, it is still there,” the King said quietly. “The hidden chamber that you and Scamp helped me find is a very special place.”

“We’d best hurry,” Sam advised, “or the youngsters will have eaten all the Queen has had prepared for us.”  The hobbits went to help Gimli with the boxes and satchels, making sure the gifts they had brought remained out of sight until it was time to present them. 

Frodo hesitated before entering the guesthouse with the others. 

“Enjoy your supper, little one, and rest well this night,” Aragorn said. “Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Aragorn,” Frodo said, fighting back tears of joy.  “Years ago, I scarcely believed this day could ever truly be.”

“Nor did I,” Elessar said, kneeling for another embrace.  “Frodo, much of what I have I owe to you, and your companions.  I will never forget that, and neither will my people...”  He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief.  “…as you will see tomorrow.”

“Oh dear,” Frodo groaned.

** TBC **

THE RINGS OF EVENDIM

Chapter Three: The Memorial

Pippin poured out his tale, reaching up and touching Gandalf’s knee with trembling hands. “Can’t you save Faramir?”
‘The Pyre of Denethor’, The Return of the King

Frodo opened his eyes to see Pippin smiling down at him expectantly. For a moment it seemed that all the years past had never been, and Bilbo had sent his young, exuberant cousin, on one of his visits to Bag End, to wake him for breakfast.

“Good morning, Pippin,” Frodo said. “You look as happy as a youngster at Yule.”

“That’s how I feel,” Pippin said. “I’m so glad we’re here; aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Frodo said with a smile. “Seeing Aragorn again… well, it’s wonderful. It does my heart good to see how much the people love him. And this city! Oh Pip, you can’t imagine how little the Dwarves had to work with when they agreed to rebuild.” He sniffed the air. “I haven’t missed breakfast, have I?”

“Not yet,” Pippin laughed. “But the children are up, and clamoring to be fed. Frodo-lad and Rose-lass asked if I couldn’t please wake up Uncle Frodo, so here I am.”

Frodo stretched and yawned, and hopped out of bed with the nimbleness of a lad. The room was streaming with sunlight, and the sound of the fountains reminded him of Rivendell.

“Is Sam cooking?” he asked hopefully.

“The Queen’s ladies beat him to it,” Pippin said. “I suspect Sam’ll insist on taking over the kitchen by tonight, though; there’s only so long he can bear to be waited on, as you know!” He opened his pocket watch for a quick glance, then started for the door. “I’ll meet everyone in the dining room; there are a few things I need to see to.” He walked out, whistling.

Frodo quickly washed and dressed, then made his way to the guesthouse’s spacious dining room where Sam, Merry, and Gimli were just sitting down at the large table. The children, already seated and nibbling on toasted bread, cheered loudly as Frodo entered. Their enthusiastic greetings brought two young women from the kitchen. They smiled at Frodo, and curtseyed.

“Good morning, Mister Baggins,” they chorused.

“Good morning, Lireth, ’morning, Siriel,” Frodo said. “Please call me ‘Frodo’.”

The previous evening, Arwen had introduced them to the sisters who had travelled north with her, both of whom wore a delicate bracelet similar to the one she had given Elanor. They attended the Queen’s school for children orphaned by the War, and Arwen had offered the ablest students the opportunity to travel north with the royal party.

“We were the only ones brave enough to say ‘Yes’,” brown-haired Lireth had said proudly.

“We were so excited!” the younger, golden-haired Siriel had added. “We’ve seen so much, and have travelled and been farther than anyone we know.”

The young women got on well with the hobbits and Gimli, who were pleased to see that they served them as they did the Queen – not as timid servants, but out of respect and an eagerness to learn.

Pippin finally arrived, and was pulled down into a seat by his adoring namesake, young Pippin Gamgee. Siriel and Lireth hurried back to the kitchen, and returned pushing a cunning, wheeled cart containing covered dishes and platters.

“Thank you, ladies,” Sam said. He motioned to two of the empty chairs. “Won’t you join us?”

“Oh, we couldn’t, Sir Sam,” Siriel said, wide eyed. She looked at her sister, who was grinning. “Could we?”

“We would love to,” Lireth said with a laugh. “King Elessar said that you might ask, sir.”

“Just ‘Sam’, if you please,” Sam said. He’d grown used to ‘Mr. Mayor’, but ‘Sir’… that was hard to hear, and always would be.

It was a merry meal, with the sisters answering many questions for Elanor. The children enjoyed the novelty of being able to explain the Shire and its residents to folks who had never seen it… and, because of the King’s edict nine years before, never would.

“We’ve met other hobbits and Dwarves,” Lireth said. “A few hobbits have stalls at the market with the most interesting trade goods and delicious foods, and of course there are Dwarves everywhere, building and sculpting; the city’s nowhere near finished. Rangers who remained in the North or returned after the War are beginning to bring their families here to settle. Queen Arwen has encouraged us to meet everyone we can.”

“Speaking of delicious foods, everything tastes wonderful,” Gimli said, helping himself to more scrambled eggs and sausage.

“Aren’t these lovely eggs, Uncle Gimli?” Elanor asked. “Lireth told us that the King and Queen have made so many purchases at the market and from the farms, the folk here wish they could visit every year.”

“I know where all these mushrooms came from,” Frodo said, sending the dish around the table for the third time. “I saw a big field of them when Aragorn and Elladan and I were here years ago. That’s where that idea for an inn came from – The Hobbit, The Elf, and the Ranger.”

“We found that last night,” Merry said with a grin. “While you and Sam stayed with the children, Pip, Gimli, and I rode back into town and did some exploring.”

“And after the first couple of inns,” said Pippin enthusiastically, “we discovered The Seven Fathers. That’s a favorite of the Dwarves, and Gimli met up with lots of old friends and relations.”

“It was a most boisterous reunion,” Gimli said with great satisfaction. “It was a very long journey to get here, but well worth it.”

Sam and Merry got up to help clear the dishes, but Lireth gently dissuaded them.

“It’s our honor to assist you,” she said. “Thank you for telling us so much about the Shire.”

Pippin stood up. “We’re going to be late,” he announced. “Shall we go?”

“You keep saying that, Pip,” Merry said with a laugh. “I’m going to have to hide that pocket watch while we’re here; you’ve never been this conscientious in all your misbegotten life.”

“Our ponies are being brought around for us at 9:30, and it’s nearly that now,” Pippin explained. “The King wants us to meet him near the lake, where the old Ranger shelter used to be; he said you’d remember where it is, Frodo.”

“I think I can find the place again,” Frodo said. “Is everyone coming?”

“We’re supposed to bring the children to see it.”

“See what?” asked Merry.

“I’m not quite sure,” Pippin said, herding them all out the door. “Whatever it is, let’s not keep the King waiting.”

Frodo and Merry exchanged fond glances. Being a knight of Gondor, once only a title and fond memory for Pippin, was now a reality. They had never seen him so happy and fulfilled in all his life.

The hobbits rode back over the bridge, with Gimli contentedly driving the cart filled with children. As they approached the enormous, sparkling lake, Frodo began orienting himself.

“The little house where the Rangers used to stay was right around here,” he said at last, pointing up ahead. “It was just a run-down...” He stared in amazement at the beautiful building now sitting on the site of the old shelter. It was crafted of golden stone that glittered in the morning sun, flanked by pillars of highly-polished wood. Some of the townsfolk and merchants were standing outside, apparently waiting for them, along with the few Northfarthing hobbits who had come to Annúminas to visit or trade. When they saw Frodo and his companions approaching, they clapped and cheered.

The party came to a halt at a large stone standing prominently near the entrance of the building. An engraved bronze plaque had been mounted on its smooth face, and the youngest children asked Gimli to read the words to them.

“Ahem,” Gimli said, realizing at once the importance of the monument. “Listen carefully, now.”

THROUGH THE DEEDS OF MANY
EMERGES PEACE.
PRAISE THEM
LEST WE FORGET
THE COURAGE SHOWN
AND SACRIFICES MADE
TO ENSURE FREEDOM AND SECURITY
FOR GENERATIONS YET UNBORN.
THUS DOES THE FOURTH AGE BEGIN
IN LIGHT AND HOPE.

“Look at that!” Frodo gasped, pointing. The sign mounted above the entrance of the building read:

THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING

Suddenly there was a rustle and murmur in the small crowd as the King rode up to join them. He was dressed in simple garb, but wore the circlet bearing its bright gem adorning his brow.

“Good morning, my friends,” he said, dismounting. “Shall we enter?”

The hobbits dismounted, and Gimli and Sam helped the children down from the cart. Their hearts pounding, they followed the King inside. The room at first appeared to be empty, but suddenly everyone realized that an enormous and intricate map of Middle-earth had been painstakingly carved into the walls. Only Frodo, Merry, and the King had seen such a detailed map before, in Master Elrond’s grand library.

“That’s our journey!” exclaimed Merry, pointing out the labelled lines and paths shown on the map. “There’s yours, Frodo and Sam, and Gimli, there’s where you and Legolas and Aragorn came after Pip and me when the Orcs had us.”

“There’s the fire mountain,” Sam said, showing the children where Orodruin had stood. They gazed avidly at the spot, thinking about the stories their Dad and uncles had told them.

Frodo stood gazing at the carved shoreline of the Grey Havens, with the Sea painted a deep blue.

“Perhaps someday we’ll take the children there,” he murmured. “I should like to see it again.”

“I would, as well,” Merry said quietly.

“Where’s Bag End, Dad?” asked young Merry. Sam showed his children where the Shire lay in relation to the Outside Lands, and the young ones were amazed to see how far from home they had travelled.

“Where are we now?” Rose-lass asked, and the King pointed to Lake Evendim.

“And what’s up there?” Elanor asked, her eyes travelling to the top of the map and its blank, empty spaces. “Does the world end?”

“Nay, it does not end,” Elessar assured her. “If you go far enough, the world bends back upon itself until you end where you began. Far to the north, Elanor, is Forochel, a land of snow and ice about which little is known. It was inhabited by the Ice Men who aided King Arvedui when he was cold and hungry.”

“Why do you say ‘was’?” Merry asked curiously. “Are they all dead?”

“I do not know; they have not been seen or heard from in a very long time.”

“What did they look like?” Pippin asked. “Would they know there’s a king again?”

“Those are excellent questions, Pippin,” Elessar said, “and perhaps someday we will learn the answers. But for now…” He gazed down at the group with great fondness, but also a sense of gravity. “We have a memorial in Minas Tirith that is very grand. It holds mementos that are reverenced greatly which I very much hope you will see someday. But I requested that this northern capital also have a place for people to visit, to be reminded of those who brought about peace and the downfall of the Dark Lord.” He gestured that they enter the inner chamber. “There will be much more to see eventually, but for now… this is a beginning.”

Frodo took a deep breath, then he and the others went into the second room. Mounted on the walls were portraits, nine in all. In stunned silence, he and the others gazed about them, tears filling their eyes at the sight.

“Gandalf,” Pippin whispered, reaching up to lay a gentle hand on the wizard’s image. “We miss you so much.”

“It’s you, Dad!” Elanor exclaimed, running up to see the portrait of her father. “And there’s Uncle Frodo, and…”

“All of us,” the King said quietly. His own portrait showed him as Strider, depicted as the hobbits had first seen him. Below each painting was mounted a long scroll, low enough for children to read, explaining the deeds of each member of the Fellowship during the War of the Ring. There were benches and chairs, large and small, to accommodate any who came to visit. Elanor was fascinated, and avidly read each scroll in turn.

“Who’s that?” Rose-lass asked, standing beneath one of the paintings.

“Boromir,” Frodo said, coming to stand next to her. “He saved our lives in the snow of Caradhras. He loved his home the way we do, Rose.”

Merry was watching Frodo carefully, relieved that he saw no pain or bitterness on his cousin’s face.

Gimli, reading the scroll beneath his portrait, harrumphed in embarrassment, but looked pleased nonetheless.

“But this isn’t right,” Pippin said suddenly, reading part of his own scroll. “This part says that thanks to me, the returning king was welcomed and honored, as he might not have been otherwise.”

“Do not underestimate your contributions, Pippin,” said Elessar. “Even after our deeds at the Black Gate, how many would have truly accepted an upstart Ranger of the North as King after a thousand years, had Faramir perished with his father? With Denethor and Boromir gone, and Gandalf under some suspicion based on the mistrust sowed by Denethor, there would have been no one of rank remaining, whom the people trusted, to relinquish Minas Tirith to my rule. Imrahil would have found it nearly impossible to convince the populace of my claim. Had you not taken the actions you did, there would have been no Steward to welcome me into the City with respect, love, and ceremony; I would have entered it formally not hailed by all as King, but suspected, by some forever, as no more than a conquerer.  Faramir is dear to me, and to all the people.  That he lives to enjoy and contribute to the days of peace I count as a special blessing.”

Pippin was staring up at him, an awestruck look upon his face.

“And so, my young knight,” Elessar said gently, “You are honored not just for your deeds, and service to Gondor and the Ring-bearers, but for your place in history. The Thain you are, to the great good of the Shire, but a Knight of the City you are as well, to the great good of Minas Tirith. And to the great happiness of we who know you best, and love you.” He knelt to wipe the tears of joy that were streaming down Pippin’s face, and embraced him.

“And now that we have that settled,” Elessar said, rising to his feet, “I believe there is a boat waiting to take the children fishing and to tour the lake… if that is all right with you, Sam. Several of my most trusted men will go along to see to their safety. They will be given second breakfast and luncheon, of course.”

“Please, Dad, please?” the younger children begged. Elanor looked excited, as well.

“Very well,” Sam relented. “But how any children of mine are so eager to go a-boating is beyond me.”

“I’d like to come back here,” Elanor told the King, as they left the Memorial and emerged back into the sunlight. “Thank you for making sure that Dad and Uncle Frodo and everyone aren’t forgotten, sir.”

“They won’t be, Maid Elanor,” said Elessar, causing the young girl to blush. “Do you think your mother will enjoy seeing this?”

“Oh yes,” Elanor enthused. “That painting of Dad all dressed up so fine, and reading what he did… it’s like Uncle Frodo’s book.”

“You wrote a book, Frodo?” Elessar asked softly. “I would very much like to read it.”

“Perhaps that can be arranged,” Frodo said enigmatically. “Aragorn, do you have many duties today? We haven’t really had any time to talk, or catch up.”

“I am at your service,” Elessar said. “Arwen and I will be here for many months; there will be much time to dispense such justice as the townsfolk and farmers request, ensure that there are sufficient schools and apprenticeships underway, consult further with the Dwarves, tour the countryside, organize the new Bounders – hobbits and Men alike – and see to the many things a new city requires.”

“That should keep you busy enough,” Pippin said with a laugh.

“It should indeed,” Elessar agreed. ”Frodo, why don’t we show our companions Elendil’s ancient chamber?”

“Oh, I’d love to see that again!” Frodo said enthusiastically.

The King smiled in anticipation. “I believe you will be pleased at what awaits you there.”

** TBC **

THE RINGS OF EVENDIM

Chapter Four: Legacy of the Ring-bearers

Then Círdan led them to the Havens, and there was a white ship lying, and upon the quay beside a great grey horse stood a figure robed all in white awaiting them. As he turned and came towards them Frodo saw that Gandalf now wore openly upon his hand the Third Ring, Narya the Great, and the stone upon it was red as fire. ‘The Grey Havens’, The Return of the King

As the hobbits left the Memorial, many people bowed, asked to shake their hands, or wanted to exchange a few courteous words. Even Gimli was surrounded by admiring folk who recognized him from the portrait, and had heard about his deeds as a member of the legendary Fellowship. After awhile, Frodo politely explained that the King wished to show them more of the city, and the crowd reluctantly dispersed.

Three men stepped forward, and the King introduced them to Sam as trusted friends who would be taking Rose-lass, Pippin, Merry, Frodo-lad, and Elanor out on the lake. They had brought their own children, as well. Sam was reassured by the way the King greeted the men, and how all of the children were already chattering away and getting to know one another.

“We’ll bring back fish for supper!” Elanor called, as she and her brothers and sister ran excitedly with the others toward the waiting boat.

“I wouldn’t mind a bit of a cruise around that grand lake myself,” Merry said, and Elessar assured them that fishing and pleasure craft were available to them whenever they wished.

The chamber discovered by Frodo and Scamp years before was several miles to the south, at the foot of the Evendim Hills down which they had travelled the day before. Everyone got back on their ponies, and Gimli rode behind the King. As they approached the spot Frodo remembered, he saw that the tangles of vines and foliage clinging to the hills had been cut back, and the small stream, clear of debris, now ran merrily through a nicely-landscaped glade.

“The stones have been restored!” said Frodo with delight. “Oh, they look just fine.” The two pillars bearing the stars of the fortirie had been cleaned and polished, and stood now as they had in the ancient past: guarding the King’s Chamber. Once overgrown and forgotten, the entrance into the hill was now concealed behind a door engraved with seven stars and the White Tree in silver and gold. The door was approached by a smooth path lined with elanor, the star-sun flower so loved by Sam and Frodo.

They left their mounts near the stream and gathered around the King expectantly.

“So the ‘hidden door’ is hidden no longer,” Frodo said. “May anyone enter, like the Memorial?”

“No,” Elessar said to him. “Elendil’s chamber remains a place for the King to visit in seclusion. I hold the only key. I asked the Dwarves to disturb nothing within – save to clear out the dust and broken stones.”

“Dust!” Gimli guffawed. “From pearls and opals, if I recall the tales aright.”

“Indeed,” Elessar said. “Your folk gathered up what they could, and mixed it with other materials for use in decorating some of the buildings and fountains. That special ‘dust’ is one of the reasons the Memorial ’s outer walls glitter as they do.” Leaving the hobbits for a moment, he returned to his horse and retrieved a round, well-wrapped object from one of his saddlebags.

“Is that…” Pippin ventured, his eyes wide.

“Yes, Pippin,” the King responded softly, “the palantír of Orthanc. I brought it north with me not just to keep an eye on what is happening in Gondor, but so that I might set it on Elendil’s pedestal within his chamber, where he stood with his Stone. Frodo knows that I have dreamed of this ever since we found this place.”

“Do you want us to wait out here?” Sam asked.

“No, I would very much like to share this with all of you; I will come here alone another time.” Elessar smiled. “Sam, perhaps you might like to know how Rose is faring, back in the Shire?”

“Could you do that, sir?” Sam asked delightedly.

“Yes,” the King said. “But before we enter the chamber...” He pointed back to the large, flat stone next to the stream on which he, Frodo, and Elladan had picnicked so long ago. “Frodo, did you see your surprise? I must say, the Dwarves were quite puzzled when I requested that they add one thing to this sacred place.”

Frodo turned to look, and cried out in amazement. There, perched on one edge of the stone, was a small bronze statue.

“It’s Scamp!” Pippin said, as Frodo walked over to the statue and touched it gently.

“Oh,” Frodo whispered. “This looks exactly like her.” He ran loving hands over the likeness of his beloved pup – the long ears, eager tail, and alert, sweet face. “Aragorn, how wonderful. Thank you for doing this.”

“She is largely responsible for discovering the chamber in this hill,” Elessar said with a smile, “and many other things, besides. A most special dog, who should never be forgotten.”

“She was the most intelligent wee thing,” Sam said, his eyes soft with memory. “Strider, did you know that the Shire is practically overrun with her descendants, large and small? Why, we have three pups at home right now: all mischievous imps, like this one was.”

The four hobbits began at once sharing stories about Scamp with Gimli. While they talked, Elessar carefully placed his wrapped bundle in the grass near the door, and looked around in pleasure at the quiet, lovely spot, where Elendil himself had once stood -- perhaps before the city had been built, planning his northern capital and missing a drowned land to which he could never return. He turned for a moment to face the west.

“Towards Númenor that was, and beyond to Elvenhome that is, and to that which is beyond Elvenhome and will ever be,” he whispered, then turned back towards his companions.

“Gimli, would you please bring over what you will find in my other saddlebag? My wise and compassionate queen packed second breakfast for all of us.”

“You married a treasure, sire,” Pippin said with a bow.

“Indeed I did,” Elessar agreed. Gimli returned with a wheel of cheese, a basket of early fruits, and several wrapped honey cakes. After filling their cups with water from the stream, everyone sat down to enjoy the picnic. The hobbits talked animatedly, filling in the King and Gimli on many details of their lives over the past 16 years.

After they had eaten and talked for more than an hour, Frodo caught Sam’s eye, and Merry’s and Pippin’s, and they nodded encouragingly.

“Aragorn, Gimli...” Frodo began, “there’s something we need to tell you.”

“Ah, at last,” Elessar said. “You have been hinting at something extraordinary.”

“It is,” Merry agreed. “But not just for Frodo. It... mphhh!”

“Let Frodo tell it,” Pippin insisted, pushing a piece of cheese into Merry’s mouth.

Frodo smiled as all eyes turned to him. Never taking his eyes from the King’s, very slowly he unfastened the top button of his shirt and drew out a long chain on which dangled a gold ring. The intensely blue gem set in it caught the bright sunlight, and cast sparkles of color all about them.

“What is that?” Gimli asked in amazement.

“Frodo, is it... could that be Vilya?” Elessar asked hesitantly. “I have never seen it, but it appears the way I once heard Elrond describe it.”

“It is,” Frodo said. “Master Elrond gave it to me at the Havens. The gem Arwen gave me was such a comfort, Aragorn; even so, I had planned to sail West with Bilbo. But Gandalf, Master Elrond, and the Lady said they had been anticipating my decision, and urged me to wait. Master Elrond said that he was nearly certain that his ring might assist in my healing.”

“But it was foretold that the Three would fade when the One Ring was destroyed,” Gimli said.

“They did,” Merry said.

“But then how--”

“Fade is not the same as extinguish,” Pippin added.

“Gandalf told us that their rings were fading in much the same way Elves sometimes do,” Frodo continued, “but it's a gradual process -- slower than any of them had anticipated. Their rings’ energies had already diminished too greatly to be of much use to any Elf or Maia, but... apparently, not for mortals.” He smiled, fingering Vilya gently.

“Wait just a minute,” Gimli interrupted. “Did you say 'their rings'? Gandalf and the Lady also wore rings? Is that where the Three were hidden, then? This is news indeed.”

“Yes,” Sam said. “It was a great secret, and I didn’t understand what I heard at the Council about them, but I’ve learned a lot more over these past years.”

“We all have,” Merry said. “Master Elrond and Gandalf and the Lady... well, they decided not to take their rings with them when they sailed. They said they could be of more use in Middle-earth, where they were forged, until they were spent completely.”

“All three left their rings with you, Frodo?” Gimli asked.

“No,” Frodo said. His face lit up in a pleased smile. “To whom do you suppose it would give Gandalf the greatest delight to bestow his ring?”

Elessar and Gimli exchanged a glance, then, as one, they both looked at Pippin.

“That’s right,” Pippin said happily. He unbuttoned one of his pockets and produced Narya. The heavy gold band with its deep red jewel glittered in the sun.

“I never saw Gandalf wear a ring,” Gimli said, still a bit confused.

“We didn’t either, until we got to the Havens,” Merry said. “Apparently the Three were invisible, or were hidden somehow. I wasn’t too clear on that part.”

“But they’re visible now,” Frodo said. “We’ve kept them ‘secret and safe’, as Gandalf once asked me to do with the Enemy’s Ring.”

“I think it amused Gandalf greatly to think of his ‘fool of a Took’ with one of the Elven Rings,” Pippin said with a laugh. “I must say, it’s given me great comfort since he left. And my goodness, the dreams I’ve had! Eagles and stars, and... and music I can’t even describe. I’ve been writing so many songs, I scarely have time for meals.”

“Hah!” Merry snorted.

“Frodo,” Elessar said slowly, “I am more pleased than I can express that Ada left his ring with you. The powers of the Three are legendary, and the healing energies that Vilya can focus have obviously done you much good.”

“It has,” Frodo agreed. “I’m so grateful.”

“But what of the Lady’s ring?” Gimli asked, looking from Merry to Sam. “To which of you did she leave it?”

“I said no,” Sam said firmly. “I’ll not wear another ring again, save this one.” He lovingly touched his marriage band.

“I’ve kept it safe until now,” Merry said, “but never quite felt that it belonged to me.  So we’ve been talking, and... well, we think there's someone else to whom it was meant to be given.”

“Gimli,” Frodo said softly, “who among us would best honor the Lady’s ring, and her, as long as he lived?”

Gimli gasped as all four hobbits turned to look at him, their eyes shining. Merry drew forth a delicate ring made of mithril, set with a perfectly cut, brilliant white diamond that blazed like a star come to earth.

“Take it,” Merry urged, placing it into Gimli’s shaking hand. “We know she would be pleased.”

Gimli opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His fingers slowly closed over the ring, and he brought his hand up to rest reverently against his heart.

“I will treasure this,” he said at last. “I, and all my people, until the mountains are worn to the Sea.”

The King had been so intent on watching Merry and Gimli, he hadn’t noticed Frodo taking the chain from about his neck.

“Master Elrond’s ring has helped me heal, in many ways,” Frodo said. “I can manage on my own now, and pass it on to someone else.”

“Are you certain, Frodo?”  Elessar asked.  “How can you be sure?”

Frodo smiled, his whole being radiating peace.  “Because I’m finally strong enough to give it up, as I could never have given up the Enemy’s Ring.”

Sam was watching Frodo, proud tears shimmering in his eyes.

“This ring was meant to serve greater hands than mine,” Frodo continued.  “Vilya may still have much to offer, in ways we can’t even begin to imagine.  I’m certain that Master Elrond would agree.”

He held out the ring to Aragorn.

“It’s for you.”

** TBC **

THE RINGS OF EVENDIM

Chapter Five: Fair Warning

The sceptre of Númenor is said to have perished with Ar-Pharazôn. That of Annúminas was the silver rod of the Lords of Andúnië, and is now perhaps the most ancient work of Men's hands preserved in Middle-earth. It was already more than five thousand years old when Elrond surrendered it to Aragorn. 'Appendix A', The Return of the King

Elessar stared at Frodo in amazement, then down at the ring his friend held out to him. Ada's ring, he marvelled. I wonder if Arwen has ever even seen it. He reached out, but instead of taking Vilya, he gently closed his large hand over Frodo's small one in a familiar gesture.

"Are you certain, Frodo?" he asked again. "Parting with such a gift as this is not a decision to be made lightly."

"It wasn't," Frodo assured him. He gazed at the King, his clear blue eyes sure and calm. "I know you already wear a special ring, but I'm as sure as I can be that this one is also supposed to be yours. Its energy may last for years and years, long enough for it to help you to... well, I have no idea. You'll have to figure that out for yourself."

"I would love to try," the King admitted, whereupon Frodo dropped Vilya into his hand.

Merry hadn't realized how tensely he had been watching Frodo until he saw Master Elrond's ring leave his hand. Even though the four of them had talked about what to do with the rings, and Frodo seemed content to part with his, he had been afraid that, at the last moment, his cousin might falter and decide to keep it. Now he truly knew that Frodo's healing was complete, and he bowed his head in relief.

"See if it fits!" Pippin said, and everyone laughed, breaking the tension.

Elessar took Vilya from its chain, and drew the ring onto the middle finger of his right hand. He noticed an almost imperceptible vibration resonate through his body, accompanied by a slight dizziness that was quickly gone. He wondered if, in those brief seconds, Vilya had been adapting itself to its new owner. He suspected it would take years to learn what it could do, and was grateful for the opportunity.

"Thank you, little one," he said softly, overcome with wonder. Hobbits would never cease to bring unexpected moments into his life, all of them quite remarkable.

Gimli saw that the King needed time to compose himself.

"And now, that leaves only Gandalf's ring," he said jovially. "Will you be giving it away as well, Pippin?"

"Not for awhile," Pippin responded. "I'd like to… well, you see…"

"It's all right, Pip," Merry said encouragingly. "Tell him."

"Long ago, Gandalf gave great-great-grandfather Gerontius a gift that my family has treasured," Pippin explained. "He and Gandalf were great friends. When Gandalf gave me his ring, I wondered if maybe it was his way of staying in touch with the Tooks, or being remembered. I want to pass it on to my son Faramir when he marries. Who knows, maybe there'll be a bit of magic left in it by then." He grinned suddenly. "He's only six, after all, so I'll enjoy having it for a few more years."

"This has been quite a morning," Gimli said, shaking his head.

"It certainly has," the King agreed.

"Do you still want to show us the underground chamber, Strider?" Sam asked.

"It isn't the chamber you want to see," Frodo said knowing smile, "but Rose."

"Well, that's true," Sam admitted. "Will we really be able to view her in that Stone?"

"As long as I am directing it," Elessar said. "The palantíri were created to communicate with one another, but I've learned to direct its focus where I will. It takes great concentration."

"Diamond is visiting Bag End, helping care for Sam's little ones while he and Frodo are away," Pippin said. "I hope we can see her, too."

"Let's find out!" Merry said, as everyone gathered up the scant remains of the picnic. "Gimli, aren't you going to put on your ring?"

"Not just now," Gimli said, reverently placing Nenya into a pouch at his waist. "I will honor the Lady by doing so under the stars." He suddenly began laughing heartily. "My ownership of an Elven ring will no doubt require quite a bit of explaining to my relatives!"

Elessar retrieved the wrapped palantír from where it rested in the grass, then walked towards the door in the hillside, pulling out of his pocket an iron key. As he unlocked the door and it swung open, his companions gathered around to peer into the long passageway leading to the chamber about which Frodo had told them so much. Elessar lit a torch and strode ahead, and Frodo urged everyone to follow him.

"Mind the tree root!" Frodo called ahead, and he heard the King chuckle. Frodo smiled as he remembered how Aragorn had tripped over the hidden root when they first discovered this place, finding himself covered head to toe in the same thick, sparkling dust that coated Scamp.

Frodo pointed out the faded paintings on the walls, and Gimli mourned silently for the loss of the pearls and opals that had once adorned them. Soon they reached the slab of stone, carved to resemble a growing tree, marking the end of the passageway.

"This is the 'hidden door' I dreamed about, and that Scamp helped us find," Frodo said. "Open it, Aragorn!" Sam smiled at the excitement in Frodo's voice.

"Utúlien," Elessar spoke solemnly. Frodo heard the crack he was expecting, and what was now revealed to be a massive door swung slowly open. From within the dark chamber now revealed came the sound of running water.

"Did you see what happened, Gimli?" Frodo asked excitedly. "The stone opened when Aragorn spoke. It heard him!"

"That is a wonder indeed," Gimli said, running sensitive fingers along the edge of the slab. "It is regrettable that the art of awakening the living essence of stone in such a manner has not survived amongst the artisans of my people."

"Maybe the Lady's ring will help you find it again," Pippin said earnestly, and Gimli grew thoughtful.

"We will see, young one," he said. "The recovery of such craft would be a gift indeed. However, if her ring does nothing more than remind me each day of she who pierced my heart with her kindness, I will be content."

The King set flame to several torches set in the wall of the perfectly round chamber, and Pippin exclaimed in joy upon seeing the waterfall tumbling from the ceiling to a depression in the floor. Merry and Sam began to examine with great interest the vibrant, perfectly-preserved paintings and the map on the floor that Frodo had so painstakingly copied for Aragorn.

"That is a beautiful sight," Gimli said quietly, noticing the glittering crystals set into the high ceiling.

"Aragorn and I thought maybe those groupings show how the stars looked when the first king founded the city," Frodo said, and Gimli nodded that it might be so.

Elessar unwrapped the palantír and set it into the pedestal where Elendil himself had stood with his own Stone, and found that it fit perfectly. He then turned to the back wall, where a gem-encrusted silver chest stood in a niche, and beckoned Frodo to join him.

"Are the pieces of star glass still in there?" Frodo asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

"They are," the King said softly, "and I added one other thing when Arwen and I arrived. You might remember seeing Elrond give this to me when he and Arwen arrived in Minas Tirith." He raised the lid of the chest, and reverently removed a slim silver rod. It was highly polished, but plain of adornment save for one end which was faceted like a jewel, and circled with engraved words in an Elvish script. The Scepter of Annúminas reflected the torchlight brightly enough to cause the hobbits to shield their eyes.

"Annúminas is its true and first home in Middle-earth, and will remain here," the King said. "Someday I will return with my children, and show them this place." He gently replaced the Scepter, and turned back to the pedestal. He gazed deeply into the palantír, whispered a few words the others couldn't make out, and focused his thoughts on the Shire... Bag End... Rose Gamgee's face… After a few moments, he took the globe in his hands and, never taking his eyes from its depths, he knelt. The hobbits and Gimli crowded around him.

"I see her!" Sam cried out, and there was a murmur of wonder from the others. "My beautiful Rose," Sam whispered, drinking in the sight of his wife. The image in the globe, tiny but clear, showed two hobbit lasses preparing a meal in Bag End’s kitchen.

"There's Diamond, with her!" Pippin said with joy. "Oh, if only we could talk with them. This is a marvel, sire." He started to reach out, but quickly stopped himself, deliberately putting both hands behind his back. He had promised he would never again touch another Seeing Stone, and that promise he would keep.

"I still remember, Gandalf," he whispered. "You'd be proud of me."

"He is, Pip," Frodo said, putting an arm around Pippin's shoulders.  He smiled mischievously.  “Aragorn, what a marvelous device.  Just how often do you check up on us when we’re not aware of it?”

Elessar laughed.  “Not often, you scamp.  I watch the borders of the Shire, as I have ever done, and observed Annúminas in its rebuilding.”

After everyone had seen what they wished in the Stone, he got to his feet and returned it to the pedestal.

"Why don't you look north this time?" Pippin asked suddenly.

"There are few settlements north of the lake," Elessar said. "Is there something in particular you wish to know about?"

"Not exactly," Pippin said, frowning. "I just feel like... maybe there's something there to see."

"Very well," the King said indulgently. He passed his hand over the Stone, then gazed into its depths once again. Suddenly he leaned closer, his eyes transfixed on something. "Seven," he murmured. "No, there are... eight. How extraordinary."

The others looked at one another, wondering what he was seeing.

"What is it, Strider?" asked Sam at last. "Is something wrong?"

"Pippin," the King said quietly, "you may have received a greater gift from Gandalf's ring than you realize. Do you remember that you and Merry were asking me questions about the Ice Men that once dwelt in the lands far to the north?"

"Yes," Pippin said, puzzled. He gasped suddenly. "You see them?"

"I do indeed. They live still, and have thrived."

"You were able to see all that way so quickly?" Merry asked curiously.

"Nay, there was no need," Elessar said. He waved his hand over the palantír once again, then wrapped it in the cloth. "I am sorry to cut short our time together, my friends, but we must go; there is much to prepare."

"Aragorn," Frodo asked urgently, "what's going on?"

"The snow people are coming here!" Pippin exclaimed. "Aren't they?"

"Yes," Elessar replied.  His face reflected a look of wonder, and awe.  "This has the look of a trade delegation, although they are armed. They have had no contact with the Dúnedain for a thousand years, and I wonder how - or if - they knew that a king had returned to this city."

"Do you think they'll be friendly?" Sam asked, feeling apprehensive. He had the children to think about, after all.

"Their ancestors were of great help to the last king of Arnor, but that was longer ago than their legends may tell. I suspect that they are as curious about us as we are about them. It was very courageous of these folk to have travelled so far, without knowing how they will be received.  I saw no horses; they have most likely come the whole way on foot.”

“What are they bringing to trade?” Gimli asked eagerly.  Part of the reason for his long journey north had been a wish to bring many new ideas and useful items back to his folk in the Glittering Caves.

“All of our questions will be answered soon enough," the King said.  After a moment's hesitation, he once again retrieved the Scepter from the chest. "Perhaps I should take this with me, after all.”

“They’ll know you’re the King, sire,” Pippin said.  “How could there be any doubt?”

“I am not their king, Pippin,” Elessar said thoughtfully, “unless they wish it.  We shall see what comes of this unexpected event.”

** TBC **

THE RINGS OF EVENDIM

Chapter Six: The Token

Arvedui thanked him, and at parting gave him his ring, saying: "This is a thing of worth beyond your reckoning. For its ancientry alone. It has no power, save the esteem in which those hold it who love my house. It will not help you, but if ever you are in need, my kin will ransom it with great store of all that you desire.” ‘Appendix A’, The Return of the King

He-án examined the stone marker, inscribed in two different scripts.

“These are the runes of the Naugrim,” he spoke at last. “I saw such as this as a boy, carved into stone near the caves southwest of the Bay. And this... it may be the same word, in the language of the men of old. Fragments of Ar-vedwë’s writing are preserved in the artifacts chamber.” He traced the letters with one finger; they were unlovely and abrupt, unlike the delicate loops and swirls of their own script. “I would guess it is a name, perhaps of the stone city. We may have at last reached the border.” He gazed south, towards the narrow pass cleaving the hills they would reach in a few hours.

“Then we are near,” said He-tyána.  “The city dwellers must be peaceful, father; would not a hostile or suspicious folk guard their borders? We have seen no one.”

“I hope you are right.  Whatever awaits us, we will not turn away from our fate.”  He-án signalled for their six companions to follow, and the three sledges carrying provisions, shelter, tools, and trade goods began to move forward once again.

Some hours later, the small party entered the pass, moving warily through the deep cut which measured several long, zigzagging miles through the heart of the hills. There was neither movement nor sound from the sheer rock walls towering above them, which gave He-án great encouragement; surely this would be the place for an ambush, were any to be launched. Finally they made the last turn in the cleft, and walked out onto a path leading through a lush meadow of tall grass, numerous ancient trees, large boulders, and unfamiliar blooms. Beyond the meadow stretched an incredible vista, unlike anything he had imagined, dominated by a sparkling lake of incredible size.  And there was the city they sought, comprised of a multitude of cunning dwellings and towers crafted of glittering stone.

But all of this He-án registered only briefly as he and his companions abruptly halted. Several hundred yards from where they stood waited a grouping of persons so unexpected, he could at first find no words to describe what he was seeing. 

In the center and slightly in front stood a very tall and handsome man, wearing a bright gem on his brow and holding a smooth length of silver. He was richly dressed in deep blue, and a brooch with a large green jewel adorned his chest. He wore a long scabbard, but the blade had not been drawn. On his left was a man dressed in brown and green bearing a long staff from which fluttered a cloth of silver and black, and on his right stood a woman of incredible beauty, her gown and cloak the color of summer sky, her dark hair as long and shining as that of his own wife.

“They weave fine cloth,” He-án whispered at last, his far-seeing eyes absorbing every detail.  “Your mother would appreciate as much of that as we might be able to bring back.”

“The Naugrim are here!” He-tyána said, surprised to see a Dwarf in the group. “And… do you suppose those are his children?”

“I do not know,” He-án said doubtfully, gazing curiously at four small, curly-haired folk. “If strangers came to our dwelling-place, we would keep the children hidden. But the man in blue is surely the Chieftain of the city. The woman... is it possible that she is one of the star-eyed ones? This is quite remarkable.”

“Do you think the Chieftain bears the token?” He-tyána asked hopefully.

“I cannot say.  He is armed, as is the Stunted One. Look, their party counts eight persons, as does ours. They were awaiting us, He-tyána!  But how did they know we were coming, if there were no sentries?”

“Perhaps one of their favored ones also had a dream,” He-tyána said. “Father, they have beasts such as is told that Ar-vedwë’s men described.” He gazed with longing at the horses and ponies. “It is my wish that we can return to our home with such as those.”

He-án turned to speak with his men. “Keep your weapons within reach, but do not draw them unless you deem it necessary. We will go first; wait here until you see my signal.” He and his son dropped their packs, and with a whispered prayer to Yáve-anna for wisdom and Heskil-anna for courage, they walked forward.

*~*~*~*~*

“Are those bears?” Frodo asked, amazed.

“I think they’re some sort of dogs, sir,” Sam said doubtfully. “But look at ‘em!” He gazed in wonder at the two huge, black animals accompanying the visitors.  They were thickly furred, with faces appearing very bear-like indeed, if Mr. Bilbo’s stories told true. “Our wee pups could all ride on one of their backs like a pony, and have room to spare!”

“I think we could, too,” Pippin said in awe.

“I wonder if they could be bears after all,” Merry said doubtfully. “Didn't Bilbo say that he met tame ones?”

“Shhh, here they come; Aragorn is going to speak to them,” Frodo said.

The King had thought long and hard about how to greet the delegation from the ice lands, and consulted with his wife about how best to bridge the gap of not only different cultures, but a thousand years of separation. The eldest of the arrivals, a well-muscled, deeply tanned man with bright blue eyes, walked steadily to meet them accompanied by a younger man. Their garments were elaborately decorated, and the elder wore a necklace of amber and gold hung with an engraved tusk of some beast.  He was obviously the leader of this group, if not his entire people, and his bearing conveyed great dignity. They approached with one of the dogs, its black fur ruffled with suspicion. 

They stopped before the King and Queen, and waited silently.

“Greetings,” Elessar began. “I speak to you in the Common Tongue; do you understand my words?” He was encouraged when the man facing him nodded. “I was born Aragorn son of Arathorn,” he continued, “but am known now as Elessar Telcontar. Victorious in war against the Dark Lord and his fell armies, I stand before you as the acknowledged king of a reunited land stretching from this city to a realm far to the south. I am descended father to son 16 generations from Arvedui, King of Arnor, once known to your people and succored by them.” The eyes of the man glinted with shock and recognition. So, the name of Arvedui is still known to them, Elessar thought. That is good. He held up the silver rod in one gloved hand.

“I bear the Scepter given to me by Elrond Half-elven when his daughter and I wed, as well as this ancient jewel given into my keeping by Galadriel, a lady of noble Elven birth who travelled the frozen lands to the north before even your eldest forefathers dwelt there. In their names, and my own, I bid you welcome to Annúminas if you come in friendship and good will.”

The man facing him appeared overwhelmed by what he had heard, but quickly composed himself.

“Elessar Telcontar, I am He-án,” he said, “Chieftain of the People of Heskil-anna.”

“Nienna,” Arwen murmured, and He-án gasped in wonder.

“We use that name, as well,” he said eagerly. “The Lady of Winter is known to you?”

“She is, He-án,” Arwen said.

“We live by her favor,” He-án continued, “and that of Yáve-anna.” He looked at Arwen hopefully, and was overjoyed to see her nod.

“Yavanna Kementári,” Arwen said softly. “The Queen of the Earth, giver of fruits.”

“Yes!” He-tyána cried out, and there was laughter as tension was released on both sides.

“May I present my impulsive son, He-tyána,” He-án said. “We greet you on behalf of our people.”

“May I present my beloved wife, Arwen Undómiel,” Elessar said, “queen of our people and of my heart.”

“My wife is Yá-shiél, favored of Irmo Dream Lord. To her was revealed the words that brought us to your city.”

Elessar nodded encouragingly. “I would like to hear these words, He-án.”

“They are for my wife’s son to speak.”  

He-tyána took a deep breath before reciting:

“Seek for the stones that were broken
    A city now awaits
There shall be one to greet you
   With whom is woven your fates
Ask to see the token
   The desperate one did bring
A new age has been woken
   Rejoice in the Days of the King”

He-án looked curiously at the small ones, who were exchanging glances of astonishment.

“You have heard these words before!” he said excitedly, then turned to the Queen. “Did you receive such a dream as well, Arwen Undómiel?”

Arwen smiled at him. It was obvious that the People of Heskil-anna looked to women to receive dreams of great portent, and respected this skill.

“I did not dream such as your esteemed wife,” Arwen said gravely, “but my husband the King has ways of understanding what is taking place even beyond his sight. Your coming was known to us.”

“I salute your courage in undertaking such a journey, He-án,” Elessar said. To the visitors’ surprise, he knelt and addressed two of the small ones. “What say you, my friends?” he asked Frodo and Sam. “Would you ask these men anything?”

“Is that a dog, sir?” Sam blurted out to He-án, quite taken with the huge animals. “We’ve nothing so big in the Shire.”

“She is, indeed,” He-án responded with a smile. “Our hounds are valiant and true, and carry our luck.” He spoke softly to the dog, which lay down at his feet, and he encouraged Sam to come closer.  When Sam cautiously reached out to touch the thick, soft fur, the large tail thumped slightly, making the hobbits smile.

He-án gazed at the hobbits with frank curiosity. “I at first believed you to be children, but now see you are not. Elessar Telcontar, may I offer something to these folk?” The King nodded, and He-án knelt as the King had done.  Reaching into a pouch, he drew forth a small package and unwrapped pieces of a brown, crystalline substance that smelled like sugar. “It is the sap of birch trees, made into a sweet we value greatly. Will you take this, as a gift?”

“Thank you, sir,” Frodo said, accepting the package on behalf of his friends. “Pippin, don’t look so anxious; you’ll get some, I promise.”

He-án grinned.  These folk had strange names and foreign ways, but they fought over sweets not unlike his own children. He got to his feet and faced the King once again.

Elessar had made up his mind. “He-án, will you and your men enter our city, and take rest and refreshment? If you are willing, tonight you will meet my companions, about whose deeds and high stature you will learn, and we will tell you our tale. There is much you should know, and we are equally curious to hear what you have to say.”

“We would be honored, Elessar Telcontar,” He-án said, greatly relieved at how the meeting had gone. He rested his hand on the enormous axe he wore effortlessly on his belt, wondering why he had not been asked to relinquish it. “Sir, your party is only lightly armed; I admit to great surprise that you assumed we were of no threat to you.”

“I did not,” Elessar said firmly. “Do not mistake hospitality for weakness, or lack of foresight.” He cried out an unfamiliar word, and from behind every tree and boulder instantly appeared Dúnedain archers, their bows at the ready. He-tyána looked startled, but He-án nodded with approval; he would have done the same.

“Father, remember the token,” He-tyána whispered urgently.

“Elessar Telcontar,” He-án said formally, “as you heard, the dream sent to my wife by Irmo Dream Lord bid us request sight of the token, the coming of which, in ancient days, heralded an age of great prosperity for our people. We ask now that you bring it forth, so that we may see the dream fulfilled.” He waited expectantly.

What does he mean? Elessar wondered, his thoughts whirling. He suddenly grew aware that Vilya had begun to pulse gently, and grow warm, and his attention was drawn to the Elven ring. A ring, he realized, a great clarity steadying his mind.  Arvedui Last-King and his men were starving and desperate when they were aided by the ancestors of these folk. Of course!

With slow and deliberate motions, he handed the Scepter to Arwen, then removed his gloves and held up his left hand. There was a gasp of joy from He-án and his son as they beheld the Ring of Barahir. After inspecting the ring closely, and gaining permission to touch it reverently, He-án stepped back.

Then he and his son bowed deeply before the King, and, seeing this, their companions did the same.

** TBC **

Author note: This chapter references chapter 1 of my 2004 story, “Estel’s Birthday”.

THE RINGS OF EVENDIM

Chapter Seven: Common Ground

The Snowmen of Forochel ... were afraid of the Witch-king, who (they said) could make frost or thaw at his will. ‘Appendix A’, The Return of the King

“We speak the language of Men, King Elessar Telcontar,” He-án said, as the group walked together towards the city. “But what if we did not? We were prepared to communicate in signs and pictures, if need be.” He gestured to one of his companions. “This is He-nára, our finest artist.  He asked to journey with us in case his skill was needed.”

“That was very foresighted,” Elessar said with approval.  “We were also prepared to attempt many methods of communication. Frodo son of Drogo, who guards your generous gift so fiercely from the greed of his countrymen, is also a fine artist. This esteemed Dwarf, Gimli son of Glóin, speaks the language of his people, and my Queen is versed in many Elvish tongues. I speak several languages myself, including some words of Adûnaic, an ancient tongue of Men.”

“I’m not guarding these sweets, Aragorn,” Frodo insisted.  He held the package up to his nose and inhaled the delicious fragrance of birch sugar. “I’m just making sure they don’t get misplaced.”

“Besides, they aren’t for us anyway, Strider,” Sam said earnestly.  “We’ll save them for the children.”

“Of course you will,” Elessar said, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

He-tyána shook his head in wonder. These adult curly-haired folk were so small, their children must be tiny indeed.  Who were these people, and why did they not wear footgear? They would fare poorly in the ice and snow of his homeland.

“You have many names, King Elessar Telcontar,” He-án ventured.

“I traveled far for many years, and often took such names as were given to me,” Elessar explained. ”I do not now, nor will I ever, begrudge those I esteem from addressing me as they once did.” He smiled at He-án. “You need not address me with such formality, my friend; you, too, lead your people, and stand forth proudly under your own name.”

He-án bowed.  “your courtesy and the friendship you extend so generously honor us greatly. After such a long journey, we scarcely dared hope for such a welcome. My wife’s dream proclaimed the Days of the King, and I see that it is so. Much has changed in the world since last our people met.” He frowned suddenly, and exchanged a worried glance with his son.

“Chieftain He-án,” Elessar said softly, “I am not your king, and would never presume to call myself so unless the People of Heskil-anna wish it. The wars of conquest and plunder in Middle-earth are no more.”

He-án looked relieved. “You perceive much that is unspoken,” he said. “Is Middle-earth what you call the southern lands?”

“It is what we call all lands east of the Sea,” Arwen explained. “Perhaps your word is Endórë?”

“It is, Queen Arwen,” He-tyána responded.  “Regretfully, our maps show very little south of our homeland.”

“Our maps show very little north of here,” Merry said. 

“There’s a wonderful map in this city that you might like to see,” Pippin spoke up. “It takes up a whole room.”

“I would appreciate viewing it,” He-án said.

“Would you tell us more about your dogs, sir?” Sam asked boldly.

He-án smiled, amused that of all things, it was their hounds about which about which the southerners appeared the most curious. He, in turn, hoped to learn much more about the beasts called ‘horses’, which were now effortlessly pulling their sledges through the high grass.

“Our hounds are named Huma and Hukara, mother and daughter,” he began. The dogs looked up at the sound of their names, and Pippin could swear they were smiling. “They are good natured, but fiercely protective. Our hounds excel in tracking, carry small loads at need, are hardy in cold, and help warm our beds in deep winter. But there is more to them, much more.”

“Can you imagine our pups carrying loads?” Frodo asked, laughing.

“They do excel in tracking, though,” Merry said. “Remember in the Old Forest, when Scamp—“

There was a sudden gasp from several of the visitors.

“Annúminas,” Elessar said quietly. They had come to the southern edge of the meadow, atop a small rise, and the entire city now spread out before them.  Fishing and pleasure vessels in the lake could clearly be seen, as could the streets, buildings, and folks going about their daily business on foot, by cart, or astride horse or pony.

Several of the visitors had grown pale, and all looked about in a mixture of wonder and fear.

“So many people,” He-tyána murmured.

Elessar and Arwen exchanged a glance. Annúminas held but a fraction of the population of Minas Tirith, but apparently the snow lands were even more sparsely populated. He called a halt so that the overwhelmed visitors could absorb what they were seeing.

“There they are!”

“Dad! Dad!”

From over the hill separating them from where the royal residence and guesthouse stood, the five Gamgee children came into view, running toward the party. Back from their tour of the lake, they had been looking for their father and uncles, impatient to share everything they had seen.  The children slowed when they came closer and saw the strangely-dressed visitors, except for young Pippin.

“Puppies!” the seven-year old cried out with joy, and to Sam’s horror, the tiny lad ran full-speed up to one of the dogs and reached his small arms upwards, trying to hug her.

“Pip, no!” Sam cried out, and snatched his son out of the way, fearing he was about to be devoured.

He-tyána only smiled, placing his hands on the heads of Huma and Hukara.

“I understand your fear,” he said to Sam in gentle tones, “but they are used to children, and would never harm one.”

Sam hesitated, but after a moment he reluctantly let Pippin go.

“Those are dogs, aren’t they?” Elanor asked, marveling at their size.  “Pip has been missing our pups dreadfully.” She looked up curiously at the visitors. Fingering the necklace Queen Arwen had given her, and remembering her new status, she stepped forward and curtseyed.

“Welcome to Annúminas,” she said softly.

“We thank you, young miss,” He-án said.  The young girl was so small, and so lovely, he for a moment had wondered if she was real, or perhaps a messenger sent by Yáve-anna.

“May I present Maid Elanor of the Shire,” Arwen said.  To Elanor’s surprise and delight, all eight of the visitors bowed to her.

The rest of the children came forward to investigate the huge dogs.  Sam stayed close, but observed that the dogs seemed to be enjoying the attention.  He privately wondered whether they were indeed always this friendly when it came to children, or if the faint whiff of fish emanating from all the little ones accounted for some of the dogs’ enthusiasm at greeting them.

“Pippin,” Frodo said to his cousin, “do you remember the first time you met Scamp?”

“I think so,” Pippin responded. “I must have been very young.”

“Younger than Pip-lad, and you greeted her with the same excitement.  There’s something about dogs that bring out the best in folks.”

“I never thought I’d hear that from someone who used to fear the very sound of a tiny pup barking in the night,” Merry said teasingly.

“That was a very long time ago,” Frodo said airily. “Scamp cured me of my fear.”

“I would hear more of this noble ‘Scamp’,” He-tyána said.  Such a strange name!  Their own hounds were named in honor of Huan the Steadfast, of whom many legends resonated among their people.  

“Do not get the hobbits started telling tales just yet,” Elessar said with a laugh. He started the company walking once again, steering them towards the guesthouse that lay at the other side of the hill.

“Hobbits,” He-án murmured.  There were so many questions he desired answered, he feared he would barely know where to begin.

“That’s what we call ourselves,” Pippin explained. “Our home is south of here; we came to see the city too, and visit with the King.”

“The city’s awfully big, isn’t it?” Merry said. “Hobbits live in smaller homes than these, built into hillsides.”

“Our homes are small as well, save for our feasting halls,” He-án said.

“Is it all snow where you live, sir?” Sam asked curiously.

“From my father’s generation back to the ancient days, it was largely so, save for the bay in the west and our southern border,” He-án said. “Periods of thaw have occurred, but rarely, and were always brief.  Twelve turnings of the sun ago, the air began to warm once again; there is now much land which is green and rich, and old knowledge of farming and tending croplands must be re-learned.”

“We will be glad to share with you any techniques that will help,” Elessar said. “The hobbits are especially skilled in cultivating the land.”  He looked thoughtful. “Twelve years ago, you say?”

“Yes,” He-tyána responded. “My mother dreamed that the long curse of Angmar had lifted at last, and a true warming begun that will continue. However, only time will tell if this thaw is only temporary, as they have always been in the past.”

“Your mother dreamt truly, He-tyána,” Arwen said. She moved to stand behind Merry. “This hobbit, Meriadoc Brandybuck, was one of those responsible for Angmar’s unmaking…. twelve years ago.  His feat – as well as those of his countrymen – is renowned in song and tale.”

“Angmar’s unmaking?” He-tyána gasped. He looked down at Merry, then at the other hobbits. He found himself beginning to tremble with all he had seen and heard in such a short time. “How?”

“Come,” said Elessar, holding out his right hand to the young man. “Let us get you settled first, in a house set apart from the city so that you and your companions can eat and rest.”

He-tyána took the King’s hand, and when he grasped it, a calm strength slowly filled him. He-án, seeing his son relax and stand straighter, marveled at this man called King, but also wondered if their journey had, after all, been ill advised. The snow dwellings of his people would seem quite humble to these folk who dressed so richly, appeared to lack for nothing, and displayed abilities beyond his experience. Would they be interested in the trade goods they had brought so far, or the proud tales of his people?

“Would you mind showing me your necklace, sir? I promise not to touch it.”

The hobbit garbed in the black and silver of the King’s banner was gazing up at him earnestly.

He-án knelt, holding out his necklace for Pippin to examine, and the hobbit exclaimed over the unusual stones.

“They are called amber; quite difficult to find, and greatly prized.  Only those of a Ruling Clan may wear them.”

“Are they jewels?” Pippin asked.  “I’ve never seen anything quite like them.”

“It is said they were formed from the sap of ancient trees.  We wear them to honor our connection to the ancestors.”

Gimli spoke for the first time, his eyes gleaming with interest.  “Jewels from a tree, eh?  I know a certain Elf who might appreciate such things.”

“You make sweets from tree sap, and gems as well?” Merry exclaimed with delight.  “How clever!”

“They’re very beautiful; we’ve never seen anything quite like them,” Pippin said appreciatively, and He-án could easily sense the truth in his voice.

Perhaps they will appreciate our goods after all, he thought, his heart growing lighter. If the Sorcerer-king Angmar is indeed no more, a new age has surely begun for all people.

“Peregrin Took, at your service.  Call me Pippin.”

Even from this distance, He-án’s keen ears could discern the splash of fountains and faint music, and when he looked up, the far green hills were restful to his eyes. He bowed his head in gratitude.

Blessed be Yáve-anna and Heskil-anna for safeguarding my people. Blessed be Irmo Dream Lord for sending us here.

The hobbit was smiling at him.

“Pippin,” He-án said softly, “I am very glad to meet you.”

** TBC **

Author Note: This chapter references “Quarantined” chapter 20, and “The Vault of Annúminas” chapter 2.

Théoden’s quote is from The Two Towers.

THE RINGS OF EVENDIM

Chapter Eight:   All That is Gold Does Not Glitter

Frodo and Sam, however, went back to ordinary attire, except that when there was need they both wore long grey cloaks, finely woven and clasped at the throat with beautiful brooches. ‘The Grey Havens’, The Fellowship of the Ring

Sam sent the children on ahead while the rest of them followed at a slower pace, becoming better acquainted as they walked.  Among those who had not been previously introduced were Hé-Mir, a musician, Hé-Findam, an ‘honored cook’ of their clan, and Hé-Sokar, who claimed a modest skill with a bow. 

When the party reached the guest house, Hé-an asked, a bit anxiously, about whether they would be permitted to keep their hounds with them.  If the answer was no, they were all prepared to camp out of doors.

“Of course they are welcome, my friend,” Aragorn assured him.  “Huma and Hukara seem quite well behaved; we ask only that you do not let them wander through the city unless you are with them, as their great size may startle or even frighten some of those who live here.“

“You have only to tell us what they eat, and how often,” Arwen added.  “We will see to their needs, or you may procure foods from the kitchen as you will.”

“We are most grateful,” Hé-an said with a bow.

“It is lovely here,” said He-nára, the artist.  The view of the lake and western mountains was spectacular, and he was already anticipating the sketches and paintings he would render to take back to their people.

“Can your dogs swim?” Frodo asked curiously.  “The water here is quite cold, but my dog Scamp used to love it.”

“Indeed they can, and with great enthusiasm,” Hé-Tyana said.  “Do not fear for them, Frodo.  Our hounds swim with ease in the vast bay near our settlements, where the water is colder and rougher, I deem, than your kindly lake.”

“I see archers yonder,” Hé-an said, pointing to an area where the King’s Men were practicing.  He glanced at Hé-Sokar, then addressed the King.  “Do your folk hold contests of skill, King Elessar?”

Elessar laughed with delight.  “Most assuredly, friend, as do the hobbits.  It will be sport indeed to test our skills against one another.”  Hé-Sokar smiled with satisfaction, and his companions exchanged confident glances.  They had no doubt about the outcome of any such contest; those who lived or died by their skill with the bow had nothing to fear from those who did not.

The sledge containing the supplies and trade goods was taken to a private area behind the guest house, then the horses and ponies were led away to be tended.  After the King and Queen escorted the visitors inside and showed them the sleeping and bathing rooms, the men brought in their gear.  Gimli went to tell his relatives about the newcomers, and the King’s standard bearer left to spread the word among the citizens.

While Sam and Frodo were checking on the children and ensuring that the little ones got their naps, Pippin and Merry headed to the kitchen to help with supper.  After awhile, Hé-Findam came to hesitantly ask if he might be of assistance.  The hobbits introduced him to the kitchen staff, and everyone was soon deep in discussion about their favorite dishes and methods of preparing them.

A bell rang when supper was ready.  Several long tables in the dining room had been joined so that the hobbits, Gimli, the King and Queen, and the northerners could sit together.  A smaller table had been set up for the children. 

Hé-an was intrigued to notice that seated on each side of the King and Queen were Frodo and Sam, the most unassuming and plainly-dressed of the hobbits.  If the King valued the small folk so highly, why were the most-honored places at the table not filled by Meriadoc, who had participated in Angmar’s unmaking, and Pippin, whose tunic matched the King’s standard?

The young Gamgees had bathed and rested, and as each child entered the room, they were delighted to see Huma and Hukara, their fur brushed clean of their travels, laying quietly on a rug in the corner.  The dogs had already been fed a large supper of their own, but they perked up as each course was brought in from the kitchens, hopeful (as all dogs are) that something might find its way to the floor.

The sideboard was covered from one end to the other with platters and bowls heaped with foods familiar to the visitors, such as roast goose, cheeses, sweet butter, baked fish, and steamed vegetables, and some less familiar, including a variety of breads, sweet puddings, and cakes.  After living on travel rations and venison for the past few weeks, the guests ate with tremendous appetites, and praised each dish.

“We caught all that fish today!” young Merry said proudly.  “You should have seen us!  We hardly needed any help.”

“The boys are becoming quite good fisherhobbits,” Elanor agreed, smiling proudly at her three young brothers.  “Rose and I just sat back and enjoyed the scenery.”

Rose-lass nodded vigorously, her mouth full of baked apple.

“Good job, lads,” Frodo exclaimed, procuring a third helping of the fish.  “Sam, did you bake this?  What’s that peppery spice?”

“I was wondering that, too,” Sam said.

“It’s an herb our guests brought with them,” Merry responded.  “Hé-Findam helped us cook.”

“Did he?” Gimli asked with interest.  He, too, had been enjoying the unusual taste of the fish, and stroked his beard thoughtfully.  “I greatly look forward to an exchange of goods, my friends. ” He looked over at Hé-an. “That is, if you are by chance interested in trading for Dwarf-made tools or weaponry?”

“Master Gimli,” said Hé-an with great sincerity, “we have learned that this entire city was built by your folk, and I have been admiring the splendid axe you bear.  Our spices have their origins in sea plants, which can only be harvested during certain times of the year, and at great risk.  They are, of course, quite rare and costly, but I trust we can come to some arrangements that will be mutually beneficial.”

Gimli grinned, and went to pour himself another mug of fine ale.  There was very little he enjoyed more than spirited trade with worthy opponents.

“Hé-an, what do you and your men most wish to do in the coming days?” asked the King.  “How may we assist you?”

“Each of us hopes to interact with your folk, and learn what we can,” Hé-an responded.  “We are only beginning to clear thawed ground for growing crops, and there is much we need to learn about farming and agriculture.   Many of the grains that grow so abundantly in your lands are new to us, and such foods as the bread and cakes we enjoyed this eve would be most welcomed by our people.”

Hé-Tyana nodded.  “Building with wood and stone is also new to us.  Master Gimli, would your folk permit a few of us to observe the construction of dwellings, and perhaps work alongside?”

“I am sure that would be fine,” Gimli responded.

“Don’t you like your snow houses?” Elanor asked.  Everyone turned to look at her.

“How do you know we build dwellings of snow, young Elanor?” Hé-Tyana asked.

“I must have dreamed about them,” Elanor responded matter of factly, wiping her young sister’s face with a cloth.  “They were very beautiful, with fur rugs and beds, lots of rooms, and statues carved of ice.  Sit still, Rose!”

Sam stared at his daughter in amazement, as did the other hobbits, and Arwen looked thoughtful.  But Hé-an and his companions accepted the girl’s response with nods of agreement, and returned to their meal.  The women of their people were gifted in dream travel and perceiving messages from Irmo Dream Lord, such as the verse that had sent them to this place, and that this exquisite child was equally blessed was unsurprising.  They were gratified to realize they had more in common with these folk than they had thought.

“I would also like to see the map room which Pippin spoke of earlier,” Hé-an continued. “He-nára and Hé-Mir are interested in learning of your art and music, and of course there is trading to be done and contests of skill.”

“For this night, King Elessar, we crave only a tale, if you have the time to spare,” Hé-Tyana said hopefully.  “You spoke earlier of the unmaking of Angmar, and the brave deeds of your companions.”

“It will be my pleasure to speak of these things,” Elessar said, smiling at Gimli and each of the hobbits in turn.

After supper, they all gathered in the large common room.  Elanor, feeling quite grown up, was given permission to remain after her brothers and sister went to bed.  To no one’s surprise, she settled on the floor next to the dogs.

When everyone had found a place that suited them, Arwen rose gracefully to her feet and began to sing.  The words were in Elvish, but the visitors were thrilled each time they heard the name of a Being of Power known to them.  Her song wove pictures in their minds of times long past, when the world shimmered with sharp, fresh color, and newly-kindled stars burned like crystalline fire.  When she finished, Hé-Mir rose and bowed to her, then responded with one of the beloved songs of his people.  For the occasion, he chose the tale of the ancient one from whom King Elessar was descended, Ar-vedwë, and the ill-fated water vessel that had borne him away.  The King listened with great appreciation, learning details about Arvedui Last-King of which he had not been aware.

The hobbits urged Pippin to sing next, his clear voice bringing smiles to every face.  Even Gimli rose to share a song he had learned in Rohan.

Finally, the King began to speak, and the visitors listened, spellbound, as the fates of the Kings of the North and South unfolded.  They listened gravely as the tale grew to include Sauron and the wraiths who served him, and the Ring, and their eyes grew wide with astonishment when they learned how Gimli and these hobbits had come to be known and honored by all Free Peoples. 

Hé-an sat with bowed head, humbled and awestruck.  These small folk had seen Witch-king Angmar with their own eyes!  Frodo had survived his cursed blade.  And he and Sam had toiled and starved in order to see the Enemy’s Ring to its final end, allowing Chieftain Aragorn to ascend to the throne of a reunited kingdom.

“There is more,” said Elessar at last, his voice soft, “but no tale of such magnitude can be complete at one telling.  We are eager to hear your own history, and hope you will honor us with the telling in evenings to come.”

“Look,” Frodo said, pointing.  Elanor had fallen fast asleep, her head pillowed on Hukara’s belly.  With warm chuckles, the gathering broke up.  The visitors left one by one, each stopping to speak a few respectful words with the hobbits, and to thank the King and Queen for their hospitality.

Sam lifted his daughter gently in his arms and bore her away to bed, and Elanor dreamed that night of riding joyously on the back of a large, black dog who spoke in a language only she could understand.

When everyone had dispersed, Frodo retrieved his cloak, then walked outside with Aragorn.  They settled on a bench, each pulling out his pipe.

“Quite an interesting day, Aragorn,” Frodo remarked.

“Indeed,” Elessar responded.  “Who would have thought that the legendary snowmen would not only live and thrive, but so quickly become friends?”

“And what of Elanor?  She never spoke before of having dreams like that.”

“I am reminded of when you and I first met, little one,” Elessar said with a smile.   “You dreamed of my mother and home village without knowing anything about them...  and it was a dream of yours that led us to this city when it lay still in ruins, searching for an elusive treasure.  Elanor is much like you; a light shines from within her.  She is quite special. I knew it when first I saw her, as did Arwen.”

“All of Sam’s children are special, in their own way,” Frodo said, his eyes shining with joy.  “I’m so glad to still be here to watch them grow up.”

Elessar embraced his friend.  “You have no idea how happy I am to see you, and to know that you are well.”

“You look wonderful,” Frodo said. “What’s it like being king? Does everyone expect a lot of you?”

Elessar was quiet for so long, Frodo wondered if he should excuse himself, but finally he spoke.  “You did not get to meet Théoden King, but I’m sure Merry told you about him.”  Frodo nodded. “I heard him say once, ‘A lesser son of great sires, am I.’ If a king can remember that, Frodo, he will remain humble, and know that the only things expected of him are to protect his people, judge with such wisdom as he has, respect the old ways while slowly encouraging good, new ways to take root, and...” He grinned suddenly.  “Produce an heir, of course.”

Frodo laughed so hard he had to wipe away the tears.

“What a joyous day that will be,” he said at last.  “Don’t wait too long, or I’ll be too old to visit Gondor and shower the little one with gifts.”

“Arwen and I will do our best,” Elessar said solemnly, but his eyes were twinkling with mirth.

“It’s hard, knowing that you’ll never be able to visit Bag End again,” Frodo said with a sigh.  He leaned against his friend.

“I feel the same way,” Elessar admitted.  “But the ban against Men entering the Shire would be meaningless if the King broke his own law.  I must ensure that Hé-An understands the ban, and will respect it, should his people ever travel further south.”

Frodo looked up at him.  “Hé-Tyana asked me if there were any ‘star people’ in the city besides the Queen, and I had to tell him no.  There are so few Elves left in Middle-earth... is Arwen very lonely for her own people?”

“Yes, she is.  Thankfully, her brothers stay near, and she is able to visit Legolas and his folk whenever there is need.”

“They can all visit Bag End!” Frodo realized, brightening at the thought.  “Please let them know they would be welcome.”

“I certainly will.  I know that my queen would enjoy that very much.”

Frodo smiled into the darkness.  “In her own way, Rosie’s as much a queen as any.  Sam is very lucky.”

“And do you feel the same, my friend?” the King asked softly.

“I’m the luckiest hobbit who ever lived, Aragorn.”

“And I am the luckiest man.”

They sat outside for awhile longer, blowing smoke rings and talking, and watching Hé-Tyana romp with the great hounds on one of the spacious lawns.  Finally they said goodnight to one another, and with great contentment, they parted.

** TBC **

THE RINGS OF EVENDIM

Chapter Nine:   A Fair Exchange

Many jewels the Noldor gave them, opals and diamonds and pale crystals, which they strewed upon the shores and scattered in the pools; marvellous were the beaches of Elendë in those days and many pearls they won for themselves from the sea, and their halls were of pearl, and of pearl were the mansions of Olwë at Alqualondë, the Haven of the Swans, lit with many lamps.’Of Eldamar’, The Silmarillion

It had been a week since ‘the Snowmen’, as the visitors came to be known, had arrived in the city, and, to their surprise, the subject of the most talk and gossip were the huge and bear-like Huma and Hukara.  Farmers, familiar with small herding dogs, and Hobbit merchants and traders, used to the unusually small dogs who could for the most part trace their lineage back to Frodo’s Scamp, were fascinated by the huge creatures, but also somewhat frightened by them.  The Dwarvish builders and architects roaming the city simply kept their distance, as wary of dogs as they had always been of horses.  Since the huge animals accompanied one or more of the Snowmen everywhere they went, Hé-an found himself frustrated that attempts at trade had been going, as Hé-Mir joked, “at a glacier’s pace”. 

But one day, the dogs’ sharp ears caught cries of distress from Lake Evendim, and raced more than half a mile to hurl themselves into the cold water, swimming to the assistance of two children who had swum out farther than their strength could support.  Before the frantic parents’ small boat could reach them, the children were happily riding on the backs of the two dogs, who were paddling to shore without seeming to tire.  Word of the rescue spread like wildfire, and suddenly the men found themselves warmly welcomed, and urged to visit more homes and attend more feasts than they would ever have time for.

Elessar, observing how the farmers and townfolk had begun to greet the visitors as friends, was relieved.  He knew that if Hé-An and his comrades had arrived in Minas Tirith, they might have been greeted with far more suspicion by people made wary by the uncertainties of war.  But Annúminas had been rebuilt only a scant few years before, and the people who would populate it were still trickling in from all parts of the North.  Visitors were welcomed for their goods and coin, knowledge or craft, but especially for the possibility of increasing the population and prestige of the Northern Capital of the King.

Finally, Elessar and Hé-An felt the time was auspicious, and it was announced that the visitors would display their trade goods at the marketplace the following day.

And what a memorable day it was!  Children, once they tasted samples of the new sweets, begged their parents to purchase or trade for large quantities of the crystallized birch sap.  He-tyána, besieged by little ones, sent a grateful thought to Yáve-anna, who caused the trees to grow in such abundance at the borders of their land.  Hé-Mir had brought flutes and pipes crafted from the tusks of sea creatures, and He-nára was delighted that his beautifully carved bowls and platters, as well as some of the colored images he had drawn of sea and ice, drew admiring crowds.  As Hé-An’s wise wife had predicted, the women were most interested in soft furs, warm rugs, curved-bone sleds for the children, and the many unusual pieces of jewelry. 

Although many people were intrigued by Hé-An’s intricate necklace, and a few expressed a wish to purchase something like it, the Chieftain politely explained that amber was sacred to their people, and only the leaders of a Ruling Clan were permitted to wear it.

As the day progressed, the Snowmen found themselves exchanging satisfied glances, as elated with the goods they were receiving in trade as were the townsfolk and farmers.  They obtained from the city's merchants bolts of cloth, spools of fine thread, preserved foods, silver mirrors, combs, jeweled hair clips, books of recipes that would please their wives and daughters, and cleverly-made toys and wonderful picture books for their children.  The visitors were offered precious seeds and saplings in exchange for Hé-Findam’s spices, and one canny farmer traded such chickens and goats as he could spare in exchange for warm, fur-lined coats for himself, his wife, and their son. The Snowmen saw the trade as a good one; garments could always be replaced, but animals to fill their new farms, and instructions on raising them, were almost beyond price.  Seeing the farmer bear the coats away in such triumph, a local herdsman quickly offered a few calves and the carts to carry them north -- an offer greeted with great joy by the visitors.  They gave in exchange two of their finest hunting bows, and, from a pouch that had until then remained hidden, a handful of large, shimmering sea-pearls.  The herdsman was well satisfied, planning to gift the exquisite pearls to his betrothed.

In a secluded corner away from the crowds, Hé-Tyana and Hé-Sokar, the archer, conducted more serious business with the Dwarves – the trading of axes, knives, and tools.  After hours of argument, boisterous laughter, and many mugs of ale, each side came away quite certain that they had procured the best end of the bargaining.

Finally, well past the time the market usually closed, the crowds began to disperse.  It had been a day that none who experienced it would soon forget.

Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin, whose small packs were bulging with gifts they had purchased for their friends and family back in the Shire, accompanied the ecstatic visitors back to the guest house with their many loads of new goods.  The dogs, who had enjoyed a swim in the lake and a long nap in the sun, ran on ahead to visit with the kindly (and generous) kitchen staff.

Pippin and Merry walked alongside Hé-Mir, of whom they had grown quite fond.  Pippin now owned several of the musician’s pipes and flutes, and could hardly wait to try them.  Hé-Mir asked about the Shire, and the hobbits spoke lovingly of their land south of the city.

“King Elessar has told us that no one of the race of Men is permitted to enter your Shire,” Hé-Mir said.  “He is a mighty ruler, but not the king of our people; Hé-An is conflicted about whether we must obey the laws of one who does not rule us.  Pippin, as guardian of your land, I would like to know your thoughts about this.”

Pippin grew thoughtful.  “We recognize the King, and honor him, but live by our own laws.  The ban was set upon our borders with our agreement, but if the Thain ever decides it‘s no longer in the best interest of the Shire, or wish to allow certain Men to enter, I believe the King would honor our wishes.”  He frowned, and exchanged a look with Merry.  “We believe, however, that what one Man is permitted to do, others will seek to emulate.”

Merry nodded.  “Hé-Mir, it we open our borders to any Men, even yours, we fear that the word will spread that the ban is ineffective, and the Shire will lose its protection.”  He sighed.  “You can’t imagine how terrible it was after the War, to find our home so changed by the ruffians who saw only rich croplands and sturdy mills, and trampled on the ‘little folk’ they found there.”

“You speak wisely,” Hé-Mir said approvingly.  “I will relay your words to Hé-An.”

“The Shire is a free land,” said Pippin, “but I have sworn fealty to the King.  Should we ever need it, he will send aid; should he ever need it, we will send aid. Perhaps your people might consider doing the same.  To pledge friendship and aid to the King can be done without binding yourself to his rule; we’ve proven it can be done.  King Elessar can be trusted.  He’s kept every promise he’s made.”

“You love him, as we love our Chieftain,” Hé-Mir said simply, and both hobbits nodded.  “We will consider this.  After all, our lands hold little that any monarch, even a greedy one, would seek.  Even Angmar, in his cruelty, sought only to keep us isolated in icy lands and did not send his minions to invade.”  He looked at Merry, his face grave.  “Meriadoc, I hope all of you and your families will visit us someday.  Since the thaw began, the lands grow more beautiful and rich every year.  And all because you destroyed Witch-king Angmar.”  He bowed slightly.

“I played only a small part,” Merry said quietly, “but learning that your land had been so enspelled by that evil being makes me even happier to know that he is no more.”

“What are you talking about so seriously?” Frodo asked, dropping back to join them.

“The land of ice and snow, of course,” Pippin said lightly.  Speaking of the Witch-king to Frodo was something he would never do, even after so many years and so much healing.  “And whether Merry or any of us might ever travel north to see it.”

“That’s an interesting thought,” Frodo said.  “Who can say?”

“We would welcome you,” Hé-Mir said.

“Thank you,” Frodo said.  Truly, anything was possible now.  Who could have predicted, just a dozen years before, that he would find such healing through Master Elrond’s ring, and live as such a joyous part of Sam’s large and loving family?

“Did you enjoy the trades?” Merry asked Hé-Mir.  “I think you will be leaving here with your sledges even more full than when you arrived!”

“Indeed, that is so!” Hé-Mir said with a laugh.  “We are bringing so much back to our people that will enhance our lives.  Everything save…” He hesitated, glancing ahead to where the horses were pulling the heavily-laden sledges.

“Yes?” Pippin asked.

“It is for Hé-An to broach the subject with King Elessar,” Hé-Mir said.  “I do not know if we have enough left of value to even attempt such a trade.”

“Is it horses you desire?” Merry asked perceptively.  “Such a long journey on foot must have been difficult.”

Hé-Mir nodded.  “Such priceless beasts may be beyond our ability to acquire, but perhaps some agreement can be reached.”

“I have an idea,” Frodo said.  “Do you have any of those beautiful pearls left?”

“We do.  They are difficult to obtain, and among the most valuable of our goods.”

“Hé-Mir, when I visited here many years ago with Aragorn and one of his brothers, we discovered that an ancient chamber of the first king had once been decorated with pearls and other precious stones from the lands beyond the Sea.  Over time, the pearls had been ground to dust; I could tell that Aragorn mourned their loss.”

Hé-Mir smiled broadly.  “Thank you, Frodo.  That information may assist us greatly.”

“Hé-Mir,” Merry said, “is Hé-Sokar as good with a bow as he claims?”

“We are truth tellers,” Hé-Mir responded.  “Of course he is.  Are you thinking about the contest, Meriadoc?  We are greatly anticipating it.”

“Your archer had better be good,” warned Pippin.  “You’ve never seen the Rangers use their bows.”

“Or the Queen,” Frodo added.

“Queen Arwen Undómiel has a hunter’s skill?” Hé-Mir asked in amazement.  “But she is… the queen!”

“And an Elf,” Merry said.  “She’s had thousands of years of practice.”

“I do not know if even Hé-Sokar can defeat one of the Star People in a contest with the bow,” Hé-Mir said worriedly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Frodo said.  “Just ask the King to appoint his best man to contest against yours.”

“We will do so,” Hé-Mir said with a smile.

“I hope your families aren’t too worried about you,” Pippin said, as they approached the guest house. “You’ve been gone nearly a month, is that right?  Maybe there’s a way to send a message north.”

“There is no need, although I appreciate your concern,” Hé-Mir assured him.  “Our wives will dream of us, and be assured of our well being… as your wives will do, of course.”

“I hope you’re right,” Merry said.  “Shire hobbits aren’t as gifted in dreaming as your folk, although Frodo has quite astonished us over the years with his foresight.”

“Don’t forget Elanor,” Frodo reminded them.

“We do need to begin planning our journey home,” Hé-Mir said thoughtfully.

“You won’t be leaving before the first of May, will you?” Frodo asked anxiously.

“When is that, in your reckoning?”

“One week from today,” Pippin responded.

“I am sure we will be staying at least another week.”

“Good,” Frodo said, obviously relieved.

“What do you have planned, Frodo?” Merry asked.

“It’s Aragorn who wants to surprise everyone.”

“A surprise?  Tell us!” Pippin begged.

“Pip, you kept enough secrets from us when we arrived," Frodo said. “I’ll just say that Aragorn has something very special planned.”

“Does Sam know about it?” Merry asked, although he already knew the answer.

“Of course!” Frodo said with a laugh.  At the sound, Pippin’s heart filled with such joy, he felt he might burst into song at any moment.  Frodo was now so free with laughter, and shining so brightly, it was as if the light from the Lady’s starglass had moved inside him, somehow.

“Merry,” he whispered, and his cousin nodded.

“I know, Pip.  I see it, too.”

** TBC **

Within this AU, the hobbits met Halbarad for the first time in my story “Force of Nature”, and again in “When the King Comes Back”. The carvings of Beren and Lúthien found under The Hill in Hobbiton were discovered in “Reflections of the Past”.

THE RINGS OF EVENDIM

Chapter Ten: Kingly Gifts

[Hobbits] were hospitable and delighted in parties, and in presents, which they gave away freely and eagerly accepted. ‘Prologue’, The Fellowship of the Ring

The King was very busy for several days, as he was called to participate in several important matters. One was a series of consultations with the Dwarvish architects regarding an annex to the Hall of Healing. The complex of buildings under construction needed not only to provide everything required for the healers, herbalists, and midwives, but would soon also serve as a school for those who would travel to Annúminas to seek instruction in these arts. Elessar also met with the City’s first elected magistrates, and gave advice on how best to judge fairly in a variety of situations. And finally, in a ceremony attended by a large gathering of the City’s residents, the name of the first Steward of the Northern Kingdom was announced. The man selected was acknowledged by all who knew him as judicious, courageous, and honorable, treating all races with equal respect. He and his growing family had been among the first to make Annúminas their home. When the young man knelt proudly before his sovereign to receive the rod of office, the four hobbits in particular looked on with joy. He was Cîrbarad, son of Halbarad Dúnadan and kin to the King. At the pub that night, the hobbits sat with Cîrbarad and delighted him with stories he had never heard about his father, of whom they had all been so fond.

While her siblings were at play or enjoying excursions in the countryside or the lake, Elanor chose instead to learn whatever she could from the Queen’s maidens. She told her proud father each night as much as she could remember about her lessons in herbal skills, music, and working with fine silks. To Sam’s amusement, she began to unconsciously weave the Elvish words she heard each day into her speech, and they all watched the lovely hobbit lass blossom like a rose in summer. Sam knew that his Rose was as grateful as he for this rare opportunity their precious Elanorellë had been granted.

There was storytelling and singing each night after supper, and the visitors now felt comfortable enough to begin speaking of their homeland and the proud culture of the People of Heskil-anna. The hobbits listened in awe as a lifestyle and history unfolded of which they had previously known nothing. To the visitors’ delight, their small friends never tired of hearing tales of the lands of snow, and the glacial mountains that slowly moved over the millennia.

“You’d be right at home on Caradhras,” Merry remarked once, and of course the visitors asked to hear again that part of the Fellowship’s journey.

Frodo taught Hé-Findam to make the travel biscuits Scamp had enjoyed on their journey so many years ago. Hukara and Huma gobbled them with such enthusiasm that Hé-Findam baked and stockpiled several baskets’ worth, and put them away for their journey home.

He-nára, the artist, visited the Memorial with He-án, and the men marveled at the map of Endórë. The vastness of what the Southerners called “Middle-earth” astounded them both, and He-nára was now engaged each day in painstakingly copying the map, as well as the portraits of the Fellowship.

Meanwhile, He-án and He-tyána had begun spending nearly all of the daylight hours with the Dúnedain’s finest horsemen, learning everything they could about the six magnificent animals which the King had most gladly agreed to trade for a double handful of their finest sea pearls. The Snowmen thanked Frodo many times for his advice, as did the King, privately.  Elessar had been pondering the most tactful way of offering a gift of fine horses to the visitors, and their unexpected offer of such precious jewels had been a most welcome solution. The Dwarvish artisans were already at work setting the rare gems into the walls of the entryway of the Chamber of the King, which in ancient days had glittered with pearls and opals from the Blessed Realm.

One night, the King chose to take his supper with just the hobbits. He dressed in simple garb, as did they, and greatly appreciated the relaxed company of his friends after so many formal occasions. The hobbits happily shared with him the excursions they were enjoying with the fisher-folk, hiking in the hills, watching – and participating – in archery practice, rides on their ponies, meeting Gimli’s friends and kin, picnics, and games with the children.

After the fine meal, and with the children in bed, Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin drew the King into the common room to at last present the gifts they had brought. They all sat on the floor by the hearth, with a pot of steaming tea and five cups set nearby accompanied by small cakes.

“Eldest first, or best looking first?” Merry asked cheerfully.

“Eldest,” Pippin proclaimed, pointing to Frodo. “As best looking, of course I’ll go last.”

“You rascal,” Frodo said, casting a fond look at his young cousin. “Something about that sounds familiar.” With a smile, he handed the King a book bound in fine black leather engraved with silver lettering on the front and down the spine. “This is for you, Aragorn. It’s a copy of the book Bilbo started, and I continued, and…” He turned to Sam.

“I’ve kept it up as best I could,” Sam said. “Whatever Frodo-lad writes next, or perhaps Elanor, are chapters yet to be told.”

Elessar opened the thick volume and flipped through several pages. “Frodo, is this… our tale? The book you told me about?”

“Yes,” said Frodo. “Our copy -- Sam’s and mine -- has a red cover, and I hope to copy one with a green binding for Pippin to keep at the Great Smials. Frodo-lad calls ours the Red Book, and so we now think of it. Of course, the tale of the Ring from a hobbit’s perspective will be different than yours, or anyone else’s, but… well, I hope I didn’t get too many names wrong. I corresponded and spoke with ever so many people to get more facts about events Sam and I didn’t witness firsthand.”

“I will treasure this,” the King said, holding the book to his heart. “Thank you, Frodo. I do not suspect that this was easy to write.”

“It wasn’t,” Sam said quietly. There had been times when he had despaired of Frodo’s health while he toiled away on difficult passages and recalled horrors beyond description, but Master Elrond’s ring had seemed to be a soothing influence through it all, and no ill effects had come of the writing in the end.

Sam’s turn was next, and he held a small box wrapped in sturdy cloth. He set it carefully in the King’s hands, as if reluctant to let it go.

“Open this when you get home, sir, and ask your gardeners to care for it very special like.”

“What lies within, my friend?” Elessar asked curiously.

“It’s a seed from the mallorn the Lady gave us,” Sam responded. “The tree blossoms each Spring, and is such a wonder, but rarely does it drop a seed. This is one of the first, and I thought, well, maybe the White Tree might like some company? Something else from the elder days to talk to, or…” He blushed and stopped talking.

“Sam,” the King said, “this gift is very special indeed. I know that my queen, above all, will appreciate the company of a mallorn such as those she remembers from the Golden Wood. On her behalf, and mine, we thank you.” Sam beamed at him.

“My turn,” Merry said, offering a large painter’s canvas such as those He-nára was filling with his sketches. This one was framed in fine silver.

Elessar turned the canvas over, and gasped in pleasure. There before him were excellent likenesses of Beren and Lúthien as he had seen them carved into the stones hidden since the First Age: stones around which the hill containing Bag End had grown and covered from sight and memory.

“This is truly wonderful, Merry,” he said, examining the painting’s details. The beautiful maiden, so like his beloved Arwen, wore the flowing gown he remembered, the Nauglamír adorning her slender neck. Merry had embedded bits of mithril into the canvas to depict the necklace’s stunning jewel – now worn upon the brow of Eärendil as Vingilot soared among the stars. Beside her stood Beren, tall and handsome, gazing lovingly at his lady. His right hand was missing, and upon his left could be seen the same ring that Elessar wore upon his own finger.

“We thought you might like to have a likeness of them,” Frodo said, “since you won’t be able to visit Bag End any longer and see the carvings in person. And with so many Elves sailing, soon there mightn’t be anyone left in Middle-earth who remembers what Beren and Lúthien looked like.”

“I appreciate this more than you know,” Elessar said. “Merry, I had no idea you could draw this well.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Merry said with relief. “I practically lived in that dusty, dark cavern behind Bag End to get this finished in time.”

Pippin presented his gift last, as he had wished.  He solemnly handed over a scroll, which the King unfurled. As Elessar read it, he shook his head in wonder.

“Pippin,” he said at last, “even in Gondor, the King’s birthday is not a proclaimed holiday. I am honored that in the Shire it will be so.” He smiled at Frodo and Sam. “We celebrate, instead, the birthdays of Bilbo and Frodo Baggins...”

Now it was Frodo’s turn to blush.

“...and Samwise Gamgee,” the King concluded.

“You do?” Sam gasped. “A whole city knows about my birthday, sir?”

“They more than know about it; in Gondor, the Ring-bearers’ birthdays are days of festival.”

“Like the anniversary of your entering the City for the first time, and being crowned?” Frodo asked.

“Yes, Frodo.” the King smiled. “And I have not forgotten that May 1^st is but two days hence.”

“Neither have I,” Frodo grinned back.

“They’ve got something planned, or I’m not a Brandybuck,” Merry said.

“But tomorrow will be fun as well,” Pippin reminded them. “We’re all looking forward to the tournament between Hé-Sokar and the King’s champion.”

“By the way, whom did you choose?” Frodo asked curiously. “He’d better be good.”

“He is,” the King said with a twinkle in his eye. “I would set only the best against Hé-Sokar.” He turned Merry’s painting towards them, showing the two lovers from the First Age.

“Do you mean Beren?” Sam asked. “Halbarad’s nephew?”

A flash of grief dimmed the King’s eyes for a moment, as he nodded. The hobbits also grieved the death of Halbarad, but they knew the King’s sorrow went much deeper than he had ever let on.

“Beren is quite skilled,” Merry said. “I’ve seen him out on the archery range.”

“Who should we wager on?” Pippin asked, trying to get the King to think of other things. To his delight, it worked.

“You must decide that for yourselves,” Elessar said. “As King, I cannot exhibit favoritism either towards my kin, or our guest from the north.” He gathered up his gifts. “Thank you for your generosity, my dear friends.”

“Take these, too,” Sam said, bringing forth a folder, thick with papers and tied with a ribbon. “The children at home sent drawings and poems and little bits of writing for you.” He smiled broadly. “To think that all my young ‘uns are learning their letters. Who’d have thought it?”

“We also brought you some of our wives’ best preserved goods,” Merry said. “They’re still packed away in the cart. I hope you’ll share with Faramir and Beregond and Bergil and the rest, with our compliments.”

“There’s plenty,” Sam agreed.

“Mmmm,” Pippin said dreamily, smacking his lips. “There’s jams, cheeses, pickles, apple butter, lovely fruit loaves…”

“And we got them here without Pippin breaking into the crates even once,” Frodo said in mock amazement.

“I’m hardly a child any longer,” Pippin declared.

“Maybe Gandalf’s ring has calmed him down,” Merry suggested.

“Perhaps Master Elrond’s ring will do the same for you, Aragorn,” Frodo said, his eyes sparkling. “You were quite the scruffy Ranger at one time.”

“I always will be, in my heart,” Elessar said, embracing Frodo warmly. “And you will always be an impertinent hobbit, whom I dearly love.”

“We should warn Gimli,” Merry said with a grin. “Perhaps the Lady’s ring will settle him down some as well, and he’ll finally seek out a wife of his own.”

“That would be so splendid!” Sam cried out, and his friends, knowing how happy he was with Rosie, laughed and clapped him on the back.

Elessar laughed just as merrily, once again blessing the presence of these lighthearted persons in his life. Perhaps Gandalf, with all his cares and secret fears, had felt his burden lessen or even occasionally be forgotten because there were hobbits in the Fellowship. Was that one of the reasons Elrond had finally allowed Merry and Pippin to go along? He had long suspected that who was chosen to accompany Frodo south was a much more complex decision than it might have appeared at the time.

Frodo reached out to gently touch his finger that bore Vilya.

“Do you suppose Gandalf and Elrond and the Lady miss their rings?” Frodo asked.

“Yes, I do,” Elessar said. He wondered, for a moment, if Frodo truly did regret giving up Vilya, but when the hobbit raised his head, his eyes were clear and untroubled.

“That took great courage, I think,” Frodo said. “They wore them for so very long.”

“It took great love,” Pippin said softly. As the others nodded, he sensed the comforting presence of Narya, and felt for a moment that he could see the wizard smiling at him, from far across the Sea.

** TBC **

Author note:   Frodo and Aragorn’s words of farewell at the end of the chapter mirror those in Chapter 19 of the first story of this AU, “Quarantined”.

THE RINGS OF EVENDIM

Chapter 11:   Blessings Bestowed

There they found a path made in ages past that few now dared to tread. For it led up on to the mountain to a high hallow where only the kings had been wont to go.  ‘The Steward and the King’, The Return of the King

The tournament drew huge crowds.  Families set out blankets and picnic baskets, and children played games of “race me”, “tag”, and “you hide and I seek you” among the massive, ancient trees.  Even the city’s Dwarvish workmen and artisans declared a holiday, for what Dwarf worthy of the name would miss a chance to wager on a test of skill?

Some of the townsfolk, and several hobbits, displayed their abilities with a bow, followed by a demonstration by the King’s Men.  All those watching agreed that, among them, Beren was the most skilled.  Last came Hé-An’s seven companions, each holding one of their unusually-carved and decorated bows.  One at a time, each man shot a single arrow at the farthest target.  Six landed respectably near the bulls-eye, but that of Hé-Sokar landed dead-center.  At once, there was a flurry of last-minute wagering amongst some of the onlookers.

A large board had been propped up alongside the archery range; long strips of cloth would be tacked onto it when either of the two main competitors scored a bulls-eye – green for Beren, and white for Hé-Sokar.  When the time for the main event was called, both men calmly walked to the starting line and clasped arms in a token of friendship and fair play.  Then they turned, bowed towards the canopy under which sat Hé-An and the King and Queen, and readied their bows and arrows.

The competition between the two men was a rarely-seen display of skill that all who witnessed it would discuss for weeks afterwards.  One hour passed, then two, as moving targets were released that gradually decreased in size and increased in number, and stationary targets were set further and further back until only the keenest of eye could discern whose shot was the better.

“Ten more yards!” the Master of the Match called out, and an excited group of boys waited for the “all clear” signal to run out onto the field to retrieve spent arrows, and move the targets even further away from where Beren and Hé-Sokar stood.

There were gasps and applause, and not a few groans, as – in the third hour of competition -- Beren’s arrow thunked! directly into the center of a small plate flung high into the air at a great distance, shattering it.  The scorekeeper added one more green strip of cloth to the board, again equalling the number of white strips.  Many were beginning to wonder if indeed there might not ever be a clear winner, no matter how long the competition went on, and some of the onlookers began to grow restive.

“This match will last until Durin’s Day,” Gimli grumbled, and the four hobbits, seated on the grass near him, nodded.

“They’re both tiring, I can tell,” Merry said, observing the two men closely, “but neither will yield to the other.”

“Of course not,” Gimli declared.  “Such marksmen as these will wish to stand victorious over a worthy competitor.”

“It’s getting late, though,” Sam sighed.  “I’d like to get the children gathered up and head back to the guesthouse to help with supper.”

“I have an idea,” Pippin said suddenly.  He scrambled to his feet, and went over to speak with the King.  The young hobbit spoke earnestly, pointing towards the competitors.  After a time, Arwen rose to her feet, and Pippin sauntered back to his friends.

“This should work,” he said proudly, watching the Queen approach the two men.

There was a murmur and a rustle among the folks closest to Beren and Hé-Sokar, and when they turned to see Queen Arwen approaching them, they both bowed deeply.

“Gentlemen,” Arwen said in a clear, musical voice, “everyone has been greatly impressed this day by your skills with the bow.  You are both a credit to your teachers.”

“Thank you, Lady,” Hé-Sokar said, enraptured by the beauty of the King’s wife.

“You are kind to say so, Majesty,” Beren murmured.

“I see that you are once again even in your scores,” Arwen continued, glancing up at the board.  “Firing so many shots, over so long a period, must be somewhat wearisome.  Would you welcome a more unusual target to hit, which might result in a winning shot?”

“Indeed we would!” Beren said, and Hé-Sokar nodded agreement.  “What do you suggest?”

“Myself,” Arwen said, delighted to see both men’s eyes widen in dismay.  “I will walk out to where the farthest target now stands, holding out a fruit.  The winner will be he who shoots it from my hand.”

Both men blanched, and Hé-Sokar was so startled he dropped his bow.

“I cannot fire an arrow towards any of the star-eyed ones!” he cried out, horrified at the thought.

“And I cannot shoot towards my queen!” Beren declared.  Arwen glanced at him, her eyes sparkling, and he suddenly realized what she had in mind.  Schooling his features into solemnity, he turned to address Hé-Sokar.

“My esteemed friend, would you agree to end this?”  Beren raised his voice so that the hushed crowd could hear him.  “Our abilities are equal, to which all here can attest.  I formally acknowledge the skill of the archer of the north. Chieftain Hé-An is honored to count you among his people.”

Hé-Sokar slowly smiled, then pressed a hand to his chest.  “And I will formally acknowledge the skill of the archer of the south,” he said equally loudly.  “King Elessar Telcontar and Queen Arwen Undómiel are equally honored.”

Arwen turned towards the waiting crowd, and extended her arms to the two men. 

“A tie!” she cried out. As the spectators cheered long and loud, the two men again clasped arms.  Hé-An and Elessar came forward then, the Chieftain bearing a gift for Beren, and the King bearing a gift for Hé-Sokar.

“That was splendid,” Frodo said happily.  “Pip, I do believe you have attained a measure of wisdom over the years.”

“Thank you, cousin,” Pippin said smugly.  “Just a bit of ‘plain hobbit sense’, as our dear Sam might say.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

The following day, all of Annúminas was abuzz with the news that, at sunset, the King wished to share a very special event with his people.  Hence, when the Sun began to sink towards the Blue Mountains in the west, the entire populace left their homes and farms, and gathered on the eastern shore of the lake.

An excited murmur swept through the waiting crowd when Frodo, Sam, Queen Arwen, and Cîrbarad walked together to stand before the people, their backs to the southern hills.  Frodo stepped forward, and everyone quieted to hear what the Ring-bearer had to say.

“Twelve years ago today,” Frodo began in a strong voice, “to the great good fortune of Middle-earth, Aragorn son of Arathorn was crowned King Elessar Telcontar.”  He waited until the exuberant cries of joy and acclaim died down.  “I and my companions visiting with you – Peregrin son of Paladin, Meriadoc son of Saradoc, Samwise son of Hamfast, and Gimli son of Gloín – were fortunate enough to witness this happy event.  A thousand years have passed since the last king of Men reigned in Middle-earth -- so long ago, that we hobbits used to say ‘When the King comes back’ when we referred to something so unlikely as to never come to pass.”  There was some laughter, and the hobbit merchants in the crowd smiled and nodded. 

Sam stepped forward to stand next to Frodo, and his children waved and cheered.

“To our joy,” Sam said, “the King has indeed come back, and he now ascends alone the hill behind us to reach the hallow at the top -- first and only visited before him by Elendil himself.  It was a tradition among kings of old to stand in a high place, and give thanks to the Powers for all their blessings.  The King Returned now performs once again this ancient duty.”

Arwen then came to stand behind Frodo and Sam, and laid a hand on each hobbit’s shoulder.

“My husband and lord asks that you join him, in thought, heart, and spirit, as he offers the love of his people to Those who sang all of Arda into being.”  As she spoke, the sky darkened, and the first stars of evening could be seen.  The crowd was so attentive and quiet that they could hear the faint splashing of fish in the lake.   Arwen stood with eyes closed, her head bent in concentration.  At last, sensing that the time was right, she opened her eyes and nodded to Cîrbarad.   

The Steward of Annúminas turned to face the south, and raised his rod of office.  Everyone looked up to where the King must now be standing, high above them.

“My people,” Cîrbarad called in a glad voice, “Annúminas is rebuilt!  Arnor lives again!  Behold the King!”

At that moment, a brilliant light burst forth from the top of the highest hill.  The incandescent beams of white and silver grew brighter, and brighter still, until some shielded their eyes from the dazzling light.  Cîrbarad sank to his knees, and many in the crowd found themselves weeping.

“Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima!” Frodo cried out, and Sam took his hand and held it tightly.

Awestruck, Merry and Pippin came to stand with them.

“Frodo, is that your star-glass?” Merry whispered.

“Yes,” Frodo said, his face lit with wonder.  “Aragorn asked me to bring it.”

After a few minutes, Sam left them to sit among his children.

“Remember this night,“ he whispered to them all.  “We’ll likely not see anything like this again in our lifetimes.”

Elanor laid her golden head against Sam’s chest.  “Oh Dad, it’s so beautiful.”

“There’s a king again, Ellie-mine, and we’re at peace,” Sam murmured in joy.  “Your part of the Tale is just beginning.”

There was a soft murmur amongst the people as each person sensed a ripple of energy flowing down from the hallow.  It entered their hearts, and gently lingered there. And so they knew that the King’s blessing on their behalf had been humbly and reverently given, and acknowledged by Those to whom it was offered.

Slowly, very slowly, the light faded to a gentle radiance, and then the night was dark all about them, the stars glittering overhead. Cîrbarad softly called the King’s knights to him, and Pippin proudly joined them. They lit torches, and went together to light the path down which the King would descend.

From that day forward, at the end of April each year the ever-growing population of the northern lands would gather in Annúminas for several days of festival, with tournaments and horse races, and an enormous trade fair. At sunset on May 1^st, everyone would gather by the lake for singing and dancing, and share a feast to celebrate the return of the King. Most anticipated of all, especially by the children, was the huge bonfire lit in memory of the radiance once seen upon the forbidden hallow. Few knew that the light had emanated from the Ring-bearer's phial, reflecting the Silmaril shining overhead on the brow of Eärendil and enshrining forever the ancient glory of the Trees; but the King's blessing upon his city was never forgotten, and those who had been present passed along the story to their children, and their children's children.

*~*~*~*~*~*

With the blessing complete, the day came at last for the hobbits to return home.  Sam, Merry, and Pippin were anxious to return to their wives, with Sam hoping fervently that all was well with Rosie and their youngest children.  Gimli, as before, would be traveling with them, stopping in Bag End before continuing south to Rohan. 

When the carts were packed and the ponies readied on the lawn of the guesthouse, the Snowmen came to see them off.  With a fond smile, Hé-An stepped forward.

“I have something for you, my friends, as a parting gift.”  He knelt before Gimli and the four hobbits, and reverently drew forth from a pouch five small pieces of his precious amber.

“But you said these stones could only be owned by your leaders,” Frodo said uncertainly.

“Not precisely,” Hé-An said.  “Amber is only permitted to be worn by the leader of a Ruling Clan.  Pippin...” He turned to the youngest hobbit, placing one of the golden stones in his hand. “You hold the Shire in your keeping, and all those who dwell within it.  You may wear this, and pass it on to your son.”

“Thank you,” Pippin said, quite overcome.

“Gimli son of Gloín,” Hé-An continued, giving one of the stones to the Dwarf, “I have been told of the wondrous new land far to the south, carved from the living rock, over which you are lord.  You may wear this, if it pleases you.”

“I am honoured,” Gimli said, bowing low.  He solemnly unwrapped several strands of finely spun gold from his beard, and pressed them into Hé-An’s hand.  “As you know, my kin dwell in the mountains north of here, near to your lands.  They send you this message: You will be made welcome there should your footsteps bring you to their door.”

“That pleases me greatly,” Hé-An said sincerely.  “Such trades and goodwill as have been forged during these weeks have gone a long way towards bringing our peoples together in fellowship.” 

He then turned to Frodo, Sam, and Merry.

“In honor of your valiant deeds against the Dark Lord and the Witch-King, we gift you with our thanks.”  Hé-An placed amber in the hands of the three hobbits.  “But Samwise, you, also, may wear your stone.”  He grinned broadly.  “As I understand it, your good wife is expecting your eleventh child, and you hope for even more?  Such a clan as that will be a mighty one indeed over which to rule!”  He burst out laughing, and the hobbits joined him in his mirth.  Hé-An was startled – but greatly moved – when all four of the small folk embraced him.

“Remember us,” Hé-Tyana said softly to the hobbits.  “We never knew there were folk like you in the world, and you likewise did not know of us.  Do not let our peoples once again become only a legend amongst you.”

“And visit us,” Hé-Mir urged.  “Bring your families, and your hounds for our blessing.”

“Perhaps we will,” Merry said thoughtfully.  “What an adventure that would be!”

“Please, dad?” young Pippin and Rose-lass begged.  The younger children were in tears at the thought of being separated from Hukara and Huma, currently sporting garlands of bright flowers in their fur that Elanor and Frodo-lad had woven for them.

“Perhaps someday,” Sam said with a smile, reaching up to pat the nearest dog.

Once they had all wished each other a safe journey back to their homes, the King and Queen emerged from the guesthouse to say their farewells.  The Snowmen courteously withdrew, to allow them privacy to speak to their friends.

After the children had said their noisy and tearful goodbyes to the King and Queen, Elanor once again curtseyed deeply.  Elessar and Arwen each bent to kiss her, and welcome her once again to their family.  As she left to help the other children find seats in the cart, Sam reached up to take the Queen’s hand.

“My Rosie and I are grateful for your kindness, Lady,” Sam said.  “What a young lady Elanor has become in just these few weeks!  She’ll miss you so.  We’ll see you again, as soon as may be.”

The King knelt, and opened his arms wide.  Merry and Sam hugged him, followed by Pippin, whose heart beat with such love for his king he felt it might burst. 

“Keep an eye on us in your seeing stone,” Pippin said earnestly, “especially on your next birthday.  Hobbits really know how to party.”

“So I have heard!” Elessar laughed. 

Finally, Frodo came forward, tears streaking his face, and rushed into his arms.

“Namarië, little one,” Elessar whispered in his ear.  “I Belain tiria-or le [the Valar watch over you].”

Frodo laughed through his tears to hear these words, first spoken to him by his friend Estel when he was but a tween.

“Namarië, Aragorn,” he whispered back. “No band [be safe].  We’ll come back to see you while you’re here, and we’ll visit Minas Tirith as soon as we can.”

“That will be a day of great rejoicing for my people, but especially for me,” Elessar said.  As he held Frodo close to his heart, he felt Vilya blaze with recognition and purpose.  Frodo went limp for a second and sighed deeply, and Elessar sensed that his small friend had been gifted with a final, penetrating infusion of healing energy.  With the ring warm upon his finger, he caught a brief, clear knowing that Frodo’s life would be long and blessed.  And the King bowed his head, his heart full of gladness.

** TBC **

Author note: Thank you for reading this story, which I had always planned to be a gentle and peaceful one. Anyone inspired to explore the further adventures of Hé-An and his people, or visits to the north by hobbits, dwarves, men, or elves, is welcome to write their own tales. I would be delighted.

THE RINGS OF EVENDIM

Chapter 12: For Ears to Hear That Can

[Gimli] rose clumsily and bowed in dwarf-fashion, saying: `Yet more fair is the living land of Lórien, and the Lady Galadriel is above all the jewels that lie beneath the earth!' ‘The Mirror of Galadriel’, The Fellowship of the Ring

The Snowmen had been greatly moved and humbled by the spectacle upon the hallow. During the last days of their visit to Annúminas , Hé-An and his companions spent many hours discussing all they had seen and experienced in the City, especially what the presence of a king – and such a seemingly powerful one – might mean for them. By the time the day at last arrived to depart, Hé-An stood before King Elessar with confidence, Huma and Hukara at his side.

“We thank you for welcoming us to your city,” Hé-An began his speech. “These weeks have been most instructive for us, as well as unexpectedly profitable.” His appreciative glance took in the precious horses, cattle, and other livestock, and the sledges that his men were loading with the great quantities of supplies and trade items they had procured.

The King smiled. “Our meeting has likewise brought nothing but good for this city,” he responded.

“King Elessar Telcontar,” Hé-An said formally, “My people will hear of you, and rejoice that our journey resulted in such bountiful goods, and strong friendships.” He extended his right hand. “You have not declared yourself king over our lands, nor shown any duplicitous speech or actions. Your people thrive, and your many friends obviously love and respect you. Any people would be proud to call you King.”

Elessar gravely clasped the man’s hand with his own.

“There are many sovereign lands in Middle-earth, my friend,” he said. “The Shire, of which you heard so much, is but one of them. I do not believe your people require a king; their Chieftain is wise and just.”

“I thank you,” Hé-An said, greatly pleased. He took a deep breath, hoping that the momentous decision he had made was the right one. “Because you have shown yourself to be a true friend, I wish to give you something in trust. I ask that you – or your heir – return it to us in person someday, so that my people may see that this trust was not misplaced.” To Elessar’s amazement, Hé-An removed his revered necklace of amber and gold and settled the ancient heirloom about the King’s neck.

“I am greatly honored, Hé-An,” Elessar said quietly. “We have much in common, not least of which is finding ourselves leaders of a people during changing times. Our hearts and thoughts are in concert; I, too, wish to send you home bearing something precious to me. When I – or my heir – come north to visit you someday, I ask that you then return it, as your ancestors returned it to mine.” Hé-An stared in utter astonishment as the King removed the Ring of Barahir from his finger and placed it in the chieftain’s hand. The people standing nearby, waiting to say their farewells to the men of the north, gasped in disbelief.

“The Token of old!” Hé-An murmured in awe. He glanced at his men, whose eyes were shining with joy.  Then he bowed to the King. “The People of Heskil-anna are likewise honored.”

“Let them see proof that the ancient tales are true, and that the descendant of Arvedui greeted you in friendship and respect,” Elessar said softly.

“Thank you,” Hé-An said, placing the ancient ring upon his own finger. He looked up, smiling. “I find that my neck feels quite bare without my necklace.”

“And my finger misses its ring,” Elessar said, laughing. “It has been long in my keeping. My friend, convey the respect of myself and my queen to the People of Heskil-anna. May your journey home be safe, and blessed.”

“My friend,” Hé-An echoed, ”I hope you will convey the respect of the People of Heskil-anna to the good folk of Gondor, and all of your vast realm. May Yáve-anna bless your lands, as she has blessed ours.”

“I will do so.” After clasping hands with each of Hé-An’s companions, Elessar knelt to say farewell to the intelligent hounds who had helped forge the strong bond between his people and the Snowmen. When he spoke softly to them in Elvish, they responded with wagging tails and tongues washing his face with great thoroughness. Those nearby laughed and cheered to see the King given such a delightful farewell.

With the glad calls of the city dwellers all about him, Hé-An proudly mounted his horse, which he had named Anna [gift], and led the rich caravan northward. Hukara and Huma bounded eagerly across the meadow, and the voices of the Snowmen were raised in song -- of home, and those who awaited their return.

*~*~*~*~*

Gimli’s return to the Glittering Caves was hailed with joy – not merely for the wealth of goods with which he had returned, but also because he had been greatly missed. The Lord of Aglarond was feasted many times, his tales of the north met with great interest and many questions. He visited with Éomer King, and also sent messages to Minas Tirith and Ithilien regarding the King and Queen, and with assurances that all was well with the Ring-bearer and his companions.

It was nearly a week before Gimli was able to finally take time for himself, and he toured the caverns, noting with satisfaction the new chambers being excavated and the pillars, sculptures, and lamps being crafted with exquisite care. Long he walked, far past the inhabited areas, until at last he found himself in a rough, unexplored chamber.  It was utterly dark except for the torch he carried, the silence broken only by the tinkling of water dripping into unseen pools. There he halted, and set his torch into a niche in the wall.

In all his time in Annúminas, then Bag End, even during the long journey home, he had not once placed the Lady’s ring upon his finger. He had planned to stand under the stars when he did so, but the longing had grown in him to surround himself with cool and welcoming stone, alone with only his thoughts and memories as companions.

At last, in silent reverence, he drew forth Nenya from the pouch at his waist.  With the dazzling image of Galadriel clear in his mind, he put it on. He didn’t know what he had been expecting; indeed, for the most part he had expected nothing at all to happen, but as he stood there, something unusual caught his attention and he tilted his head curiously. With a hesitant step, he walked over to the nearest wall, and gently pressed against it with his hand.

I am the beloved of Mahal, the foundation of the earth, the permanence of all things. I am stone.

Gimli “heard” the low, pounding murmur as if a voice both sharp as flint and shimmering as crystal reverberated through his being.

I sense the heartbeats of His children. I recognize the touch of one who is attuned to the Master.

With a gasp, Gimli remembered his conversation with Pippin many weeks before:

"It is regrettable that the art of awakening the living essence of stone has not survived amongst the artisans of my people."

"Maybe the Lady's ring will help you find it again.”

Pippin was the new guardian of Gandalf’s ring.  Had he known somehow, on some level?

Release my full potential, son of Durin. And yours.

Gimli began to tremble with excitement as the space before him suddenly flooded with light. He saw what it could become. Tree-like pillars, entwined. Shimmering crystalline seams thinned, sculpted, lit from behind to cast a radiance of soft light. Underground rivers diverted, marble pools dug, sweet water tumbling and singing. Flowering gardens of stone cultivated with skill and deep love set below brilliant, glittering star-like gems that rivaled even the clear, pulsing radiance of the gem on the ring he wore...

As he gazed about him in awe, Gimli recalled something Arwen had said to him in Annúminas when she bade him farewell.

“I do not often now glimpse what may be, but it comes to me that you may live longer than any of your race since the elder days, Gimli son of Glóin. Use well the days.”

He had not made much of her words, and even she had merely smiled at this brief moment of cryptic foresight. A longer life than any of his race... perhaps because of the remaining energy in the Lady’s ring? But even were such a thing true, his practical nature asserted, stone would outlast him. It would outlast them all until the foundations of the world were broken and remade.

But in the time I have, I will create such beauty here as is in my power to bring forth, he vowed to himself.  Aglarond will be the wonder of Middle-earth, and I will strive to be worthy of it.

When he finally took the ring from his finger, the strange light flickered and then was gone. But standing in the cool darkness, his mind remained lit with a clear vision of what could be created here beneath the earth.  And perhaps one day he could even... Gimli shook his head, and his laughter echoed off the rough walls. Such folly! Certainly there was no way to ever again stand before the Lady, to thank her for this gift. What strange fortune could ever bear a Dwarf into the West, or afford him welcome there?

After tucking Nenya back into the pouch, he retrieved his torch. He would return to this place soon, and begin the great work that would be his legacy... with the Lady’s vision and Mahal’s blessing to guide him.

“So, Frodo, it appears that now I, too, am a Ring-Bearer,” he murmured. “I hope to show you what our efforts will bring forth here.”  He closed his eyes, imagining that Frodo could hear him.  After such wonders as he had experienced, perhaps even that was now possible.

“May this place blossom as sweetly as your Shire, my friend, and we both live long enough to see it.  And may your every day be blessed.”

** END **