4.

Bandobras Took, though old gaffer Bracegirdle calls me "that dratted Took boy," Crickhollow, Buckland

To Legolas Thranduilion, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Ithilien

Dear Hopefully-still-unmarried Master,

I was so mad when I read your letter that I started to stomp about, then my mother heard me and told me to stop; she asked me why I was clomping about the house so and what had got my dander up, so I had to read the letter to her, and would you believe it?  She got mad, too!  But when Uncle Pip and Cousin Merry read it they laughed – thought it a right lark, they did.  Then my mother and I take the one side, that you oughtn't to be forced to do anything you don't want to, especially something as important as wed, and Uncle Pip and Cousin Merry took the other side, saying Galás and Kaimelas had every right to do as your mother wished, and that they were surprised at Mother for taking your part against your parents; then Fatty Bolger came in, who is Cousin Merry's brother-in-law, and asked what all the fuss and pother was for, and when HE had read the letter he said he thought it strange there was an Elven land with only an Elven lord and no lady; weren't all Elven lords supposed to have ladies, for that's how he'd heard it off Mad Baggins – then Cousin Merry back-pedaled, saying how Lord Elrond of Rivendell, what you call Imladris, had no lady-wife in attendance as she'd gone on over the Sea, but then Uncle Pip said he had his daughter there and that counted as a lady in attendance over the household, so then Fatty said maybe you should have a daughter instead of a wife, and Mother got very huffy over that, saying the wife had to come before the daughter, and Cousin Merry said, why doesn't Legolas just adopt a daughter off someone?  Well, everyone laughed, and it seemed awful queer to me and I said so, that you didn't need a lady at all, you were doing quite well without one, and Cousin Merry said:  "I think it'd be a splendid thing if he did fall in love and get married, but I don't see why his mother is pressing the issue."  Then Uncle Pip said something about the word "issue" being the problem, which I didn't understand but made Mother awful mad at him, mostly I think because I was in the room, but as I didn’t understand it I don't really think she ought to have got mad at Uncle Pip, but she's always getting mad at him anyway – she hollers at him almost as much as she does at me.  Anyway, things went round and round after that, them arguing back and forth over the subject, and what it came down to, that they finally agreed on, was this – that if you DID fall in love and get married it'd be a cracking thing, but the getting married and falling in love part – or what's more likely, NOT falling in love – that'd be a terrible bad shame, if it turned out like that, and they ought to give you more space, like, to work it out in.  But you know, Mother put forward a very good point, that you're not likely to find no one to fall in love with, for you're far too busy and by rights there aren't many Elf maids in Dol Galenehtar, are there?  And that, Master, is I think most likely what your mother and father are worried about, that there aren't enough of them for you to choose from, and that's why they keep sending them to you.

So, what were the four from Rivendell like?  Were they pretty?  Or is that a silly thing to ask about an Elf?  I bet they were pretty, for Cousin Merry and Uncle Pip both said Rivendell is chock-full of all sorts of beautiful ladies, all in lovely gowns and dresses and such, and the music and singing and so forth that goes on there makes everything seem ten times lovelier.  If you do fall in love and get married, Master, please see to it that she likes Hobbits, for I don't think I could stand it if she didn't – nor if she didn't like Dwarves neither, for then Gimli would get squiffy, and we know how that upsets his digestion something terrible.  But anyway you know that Dúrfinwen and Andunië and Seimiel and all the other ladies your mother sent you from Eryn Lasgalen do like Hobbits and Dwarves, so if worse comes to worse I suppose you could marry them in a pinch.  Well, I didn't mean all of them, just one of them.  That's something I always wondered, Master, why can bulls have all those cows, but menfolk only have one wife?  I asked my mother and she said that was a terrible improper thing to ask and to hold my tongue and then she made me scrub out the pantry, so I decided to ask Uncle Pip instead, because he says all sorts of improper things and never thinks to make me scrub out anything, and he said it was because one wife was more than enough and he wasn't even sure the average fellow could handle just the one, but he had just quarreled with Diamond and perhaps he was feeling pecky. But why is it, Master?  Not that I think I'd like to have more than one myself, what with them fighting over the kitchen and having to feed twice as many babies, but it is an interesting question.

You asked me in your last letter, Master, what a mathom-house was.   It's not a library, though there are a few books there, it's where people put valuables they don’t have any use for, but are worth too much to just throw or give away.  I went to the one in Michel Delving once, and it's a terrible crowded place, all full of dusty things most folk can't even recognize, but I did hear tell Mad Baggins had some mail shirt of fabulous make there for a while, though no one seems to know what happened to it.  I'm not sure, Master, if you'd ever be interested in that sort of thing, but next time you visit me we'll take a trip to Hobbiton, you and I, and we'll go to the mathom-house together, and we can look at King Éomer's letter.  Caused quite a stir, it has, especially as he sent with it a great bagful of gold to pay for the foodstuff we sent; Master Gamgee and Grandfather have put it to good use, repairing the smials in the Westfarthing.  So when you speak to King Éomer next, or to Lady Éowyn, which is more likely to happen first, you may tell them that his gift of gold went to chinking up the cracks in Hobbit-holes against the coming winter.  And I tell you, Master, I wish I were in Gondor, for the size of the furry caterpillars promises a fierce one, and after last winter being so bad I'm not sure the old folk can handle that much snow again.  But it is bully fun to slide down on a board plank, isn't it?  Do the children of other races do that too, take board planks off old sheds or barrels, sit upon them, and slide down the snowy hills to the bottom?  It's awful fun, Master, though I did get in hot water last winter, when Dingle Bracegirdle and I took that old barrel apart to make something to slide down upon, but we thought it was too old to be of any use to each other, and anyway no one told us Dingle's Dad was thinking of using it to catch rainwater, because no one ever tells us anything.  Did you ever do that when you were an Elfling, Master, slide down a snowy hill on a plank, or is that undignified for a prince?  A shame if it is, anyway, and if so I'm glad I'm just an ordinary Hobbit after all.

You be sure to tell Galás and Kaimelas that it was very unfair of them to trick you so, putting you in fancy clothes and parading you about like that.  Makes you look no end a popinjay, though I'm very sure the ladies appreciated it, for you are very good-looking, Master, if I do say so myself, and if Kaimelas dressed you I bet you looked bully.  Did you wear your silver oak leaf circlet too?  I always think of your mother when I see it, for I remember her wearing it the first banquet I attended in your father's palace, and how pretty she looked in her green gown.  What does Gimli think of all this?  Why isn't he married?  I don’t think I've ever even seen a Dwarf woman, Master; what do they look like?  Is it true they have beards too?

The bull got out the other day, but this time it was not my fault, so I didn't feel near so bad as I ought when I went out on the hunt for him.  Unfortunately we found him down in the gully by the river, where he'd fallen and broke his leg.  He is too old to slaughter, for his meat would be terribly tough, but no one is sure his leg will mend, for he's far too stubborn and heavy.  How I wish you were here, Master!  You would sit with him and sing to him and tell him everything would be all right, and then I'm sure he'd lie still and wait for the leg to heal and everything would be right as rain.  But you're not here, Master, which is a terrible pity, for if you were perhaps your mother would let you alone, and Galás and Kaimelas too, and you would have a break from having to dodge all these young ladies.  I'm sure that must be exhausting, what with all the other things you need to attend to.

I wish I was in Gondor eating olives with you, and watching the sun set over Mindolluin like a ball setting itself upon a spike; I wish I was sitting on one of the high walls in Osgiliath looking at the moon, which right now is shining on my paper, as I am writing in bed without my mother knowing it, and she'd be awful cross if she found me out, what with the ink stains and all.  But I just had to write, Master, for my heart is so full of thoughts of you I felt I would burst if I didn’t get them out.  And I miss Gimli so, though you'd never believe it – I even miss how he'd fuss me over the menus, and growl when I touched his blacksmith's tools, and twit me about using "Sir" and "Lord" and "Majesty" proper-like.  And I miss your father and mother, though I'm awful cross with them right now, and I miss Lady Éowyn and Queen Undómiel and Hador and Lord Aldamir and – oh, everyone, Master; I love the Shire and I shall always know I have family here, but I love Ithilien and I miss you something terrible, and I shall always be home when you are near me.

Estella's still not had her baby, and Uncle Pip has stopped walking out with Diamond – at this rate I'll never get to Ithilien!

Tell Galás to behave himself, or I shan't teach him how to pull that trick with the wine barrel that got me in so much hot water.  And give my love to everyone, and to all the knights who are nearby, but especially to Hador.  And tell me all about Mathaiel!  What is she like?  Is she good enough for him?

Please write to me, and please, please, don't get married without telling me first.

Your affectionate esquire,

Bandobras