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The Road to Edoras  by Dreamflower

CHAPTER 54

Clovis had never been so exhausted in his life.  He had been up late the night before as they cleared away the feast and washed pots far into the wee hours of the morning.  A scant few hours of sleep in his cell, and now he was once more in the kitchen, clearing away the breakfast dishes.  He was so tired he could not even summon up his usual anger and resentment.  Tomorrow his father and Dago would be gone.  Cado was already gone to that family he was serving.  And here he would be, alone among all these Big Folk, with nothing to do except scrub dishes. He wished he could find the courage to try running away, but that was hopeless.  He was alone. No one would go with him.  He would surely be caught, and it would just add to his sentence. And then when the year was up, he still had nowhere to go. Heaving a great sigh, and fighting off this unaccustomed sadness, he concentrated on the large pot in front of him.  Perhaps after he got some rest, he could get angry again. Time passed much more quickly when he was angry.

_____________________________________

Mistress Poppy watched as her apprentice completed her morning ablutions and tied up her hair. "Is that a new hair ribbon, Viola?" she asked, knowing the answer perfectly well.

"Oh, Mistress Poppy," Viola turned, her brown eyes shining.  "Beri asked if he could court me!  And he gave me this!"

"Bucklanders have kept up a good many of the old customs that have fallen out of fashion in the rest of the Shire.  And did you give him a family receipt in return? Perhaps your barley-and-mushroom stew?  That's one of your best dishes."

Viola's face flamed.  "There was no chance last night.  Do you suppose I should?"

"Ah! *Now* you see fit to ask my advice!  And did you tell him you had to consult me before accepting his offer of courtship?"

"Oh! Oh, Mistress Poppy!  I'm sorry!  I didn't even think of asking, and that should have been my very first thought after all you have done for me!"  Now Viola was quite distressed, and tears stood in her eyes.

"There now, child!  I did not mean to rebuke you-- or at least not harshly.  Yes, you should have given some thought to your old Mistress, but you are young and in love and I understand.  But you are nearly to the end of your service with me. By the time we get back, you will have only a few months until you come of age and your apprenticeship is up.  Of course I do not mind if he pays court to you.  But let me ask you: are you still of a mind to become a healer?"

"Oh, yes, Mistress! I wouldn't give that up! And Beri would not ask me to!"

"Well then, so long as his courting doesn't interfere with your studies and your duties, I have no problems with him paying respectable suit to you.  Mind you use some hobbit-sense, and don't put the dessert before the main course!"

"Mistress Poppy! I would *never*!"

"You are a good lass then, dear." She gave Viola a peck on the cheek.  "Now you go and see if our patient is awake.  I doubt he really needs our tending any longer, but it will give you something to do.  You can write to your sister and your aunt with your news while you sit with him, and perhaps write out that receipt as well.  Show your young swain that you can keep up the old customs as well as he can!"

Viola laughed, hugged her Mistress and rushed off.

_________________________________________

The day was a busy one, as the hobbits gathered their possessions-- of which there seemed to be many more than when they had arrived.  For some, packing was a methodical and unremarkable necessity, and for others it was a difficult task, as they crammed belongings and gifts into packs that suddenly seemed far too small. 

By luncheon, the hobbits had finished any preparations they could make before the morning. Mistress Poppy and Viola had been directed to a local apothecary, where they could replenish their stores of healing herbs and medicines.  Mosco and Anwynd as well as Hiltrude accompanied them. Rolly and Denny decided to check on the foodstuffs that would be going with them on the trip.

Freddy decided to write one more report to the Shire before they left.  There would be no opportunity to send any more messages before they arrived in Minas Tirith.

Beri wanted a word with Jolly, and suggested that the two of them go to the stables to check on their ponies.  Jolly readily agreed, although he thought it unnecessary-- these Rohirrim took fine care of the ponies and horses.  He reckoned his own Dapple would be spoilt rotten when they left. 

The stables were as busy as usual, and they were greeted cordially by Helgor, the stablemaster.  "Good day," he said. "Have you come to look on your ponies?"  Berilac nodded, and the two of them went over to the stalls where they could see the ponies, sleek and well-fed and content, but not growing fat, because the Rohirrim had regularly seen to their exercise.  Jolly looked about, once more admiring the clean and airy stables.  He remembered his first sight of them, and thinking they were better cared for and as finely appointed in their own way as many a fancy home in the Shire.  He'd never met a folk so much for their horses as the Rohirrim.  He turned, and noticed that Mr. Beri was studying him, as though he wanted to ask him something.

"What is it, Mr. Berilac?" he asked.

Berilac chuckled.  "How would you like to help me out with a little venture this evening?  I don't need much-- just someone to stand lookout for me."

Jolly blinked.  "What do you have in mind?"

When Berilac told him, he grinned. "Now, that's right clever, sir, and I think he'll find it mighty bothersome. I suppose I could keep watch for you."

________________________________________

Freddy put aside the finished report for the Thain, and decided he had time to write a letter.  He pulled forth another sheet of parchment, and dipped the pen.

"Dear Frodo,

Tomorrow we depart Edoras for Minas Tirith.  I must say I have decidedly mixed feelings about this; on the one hand, I am eager to come to our destination at last, and to meet the High King, of whom you have spoken so highly and so fondly.  And yet I am loathe to leave my friends among the Rohirrim.

It has not even been a full year since I found myself in bitter despair in the Lockholes, grieving for Folco, worrying about my family and the hobbits who had been captured with me, feeling only hatred for the Men who had captured us, and loathing for Lotho and Sandyman.  All that had kept me going was my thoughts of revenge. I had no idea that I even had a future, much less any idea of what that future would hold. I was filled with guilt that I had not gone with you and the others-- at one time, I even felt that the ravaging of the Shire was a punishment on me for my cowardice.  Of course, I realize that now for folly, but alone in the dark at the mercy of those who would torment me, it is easy to fall prey to dark thoughts.  But then you know that only too well.

And now all I feel for Lotho and Sandyman is pity for the horrible ends they came to, and I find myself with any number of new friends, most of whom are Men, though I've grown very fond of an Elf and a Dwarf as well.  Life has changed for me in many ways, and I know that I will be glad of this opportunity when I return to the Shire.

I know how you feel about gratitude, cousin. So I will not burden you with my effusive thanks for all you've done. I hope that you are doing well, and that Sam and Rose have settled happily into Bag End with you.  It does my heart good to know you are no longer alone.  You may want to pass along a bit of news to Merry and Pippin: your cousin Berilac has offered suit to Mistress Poppy's apprentice Viola Harfoot.  They returned from taking a bit of fresh air after the feast last night, and Viola was sporting a new yellow hair ribbon!  I am certain that as one who's spent much time in Buckland you know what that means!

Please give my regards to Sam, Merry and Pippin, and, if you get the opportunity, to your cousin Angelica, of whom I think about a good deal.  I will write to all of them and to my father when we arrive at last in Minas Tirith. It is nearly teatime now, and we are entertaining the King one last time ere we leave.

Your fond cousin,

F. Bolger"

_____________________________________

Lady Arien followed the Princess as they returned to their rooms.  Tea, as they called it, with the pheriannath had certainly been an interesting occasion.  The guests and their small hosts had not sat together at a table; instead, they had all sat about informally, as the cups were passed, as well as the plates of biscuits (both savoury and sweet), very small slices of bread with cucumbers or watercress or cheese between them (which they called "tea sandwiches"), stuffed eggs and cake.  Master Fredegar had explained that in their homeland this was just one meal among six, or on special occasions, seven, of which they partook each day.  It was clear that the little people had prodigious appetites! 

The Princess sat at the King's side, and she was clearly very happy in his company.  Arien remembered when she had come in the night before, and they had spoken as they readied themselves before sleep. "He told me stories, Arien.  And not the sorts of stories you would expect from a warrior like him!  He told me of how his grandfather Thengel wooed and won Morwen of Lossarnach, whom the Rohirrim called Morwen Steelsheen.  And he told me an ancient story of his people from the years before Eorl the Young came to the aid of Gondor, how King Valacar of Gondor came among the people of Rhovannion, and lost his heart to the Princess Vidumavi.  It is told quite differently in Rohan than it is in Gondor. You would think that so mighty a warrior would have more interest in stories of fierce battles, than in those of love!"

Arien herself had thought it quite clever of the King, to try and win a lady with tales of love, rather than of bloody tales of battle.  Clearly he was a man of many talents, and she found herself hoping more than ever that her lady would accept his suit.  He seemed very worthy quite aside from his bravery and skill in battle.  And she watched him with the pheriannath and saw the fondness he held for them, and decided he had a worthy heart as well.  Indeed, the Princess would do far worse, should she not accept him.

But remembering her lady's smiles, she somehow felt he would not be rejected.

__________________________________________

The evening meal had not been so festive or lavish as the feast the evening before, and there had been no dancing after, for tomorrow's farewell would begin early.  Berilac had not even had the consolation of Viola's presence, as she had stayed with the patient while her Mistress took supper with the rest.  Perhaps it was just as well.  She might have distracted him from his business.

When the food had been cleared away and folk began to drift off, Berilac signaled to Jolly.  The two of them made their way through the corridors until they came near the place where the rooms that had been assigned to Legolas were.  They stood back and watched, and before long heard his voice and that of Gimli.  They halted briefly as Gimli reached his own quarters.

"Well, be off to your star-gazing then!  I shall see you in the morning!"

Legolas chuckled.  "And you be off to your own dreaming.  At least you will keep no one awake with your snores!"

Gimli just laughed at this sally  and went into his room.  Legolas went into his own room, and Berilac felt a sting of disappointment-- was the Elf going to stay in there tonight after all?  But no, the door quickly opened again, and moving lightly and silently, Legolas went down the passageway.  Berilac knew it led to a stairwell that went up to the roof.  He and Jolly heaved sighs of relief, and Beri turned to Jolly.  "I shall only be a couple of hours!  Here is my pocketwatch.  If I do not come out, it may be that I've fallen asleep, so knock on the door and wake me.  And if you see him coming back before then, let me know as well."

"I will, Master Beri!  But you take care *not* to fall asleep if you can-- that would be a bad thing."

"Wish me luck," he said, and he slipped into Legolas' room.  It was a large room, with two windows, shutters wide open to the clear night sky.  He looked around him at the large bed, and laying at the foot of it, Legolas' pack, already filled and ready for the morrow's journey.

Berilac smiled and hummed "Roll on, Brandywine" beneath his breath as he carefully and methodically opened Legolas' kit, and in an equally careful fashion, began to unfold the clothing and lay it all out on the large bed.  He resisted the temptation to examine anything else.  He was not sure he could repack it all exactly as it had been.  But it wasn't as if Legolas would not know, after all.  The key to success was the timing.

Since tomorrow was the departure, there was nothing to be done about it.  Legolas would be on his way to Ithilien with Beregond and Bergil, while Berilac would be going to Minas Tirith with the others.  He grinned.  There would be no chance for the Elf to retaliate, which was only fair, after all. It would put them even, although Beri was feeling rather forgiving.  After all, he had finally achieved his kiss with Viola!

But not forgiving enough to forgo his prank.  Merry and Pippin would be quite proud of this one when he told them about it after returning home.

He looked over the clothes, and then went to each of the windows and pulled the shutters closed. Not an easy task for a hobbit-- they were rather large.  But he managed.  Then he went over and clambered up to the bed, making himself comfortable as he pulled out his pipe and filled it.  This had to be the easiest jape ever.

All he had to do was sit here and smoke for a couple of hours-- long enough for the smoke to permeate all of Legolas' clothing.  It would probably be scarcely perceptible to a hobbit, but Beri had no doubt whatsoever that the Elf's sensitive nose was going to be highly offended!  He grinned to himself.  This would be perfect.  He leaned back against the pillows, placed his hands behind his head, and gave himself over to thoughts of Viola.  But he would have to be careful not to fall asleep. It would be poor return for Eómer King's hospitality if he should accidentally burn Meduseld down by falling asleep with a lit pipe in his hand.

He really was on the verge of dozing off and had sat up to clear his head, when he heard a soft tapping at the door.  He slid down from the bed and opened the door to see Jolly waiting.  Jolly sniffed and grinned, and then the two of them left for their own quarters. 

 





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