Chapter 26 – Pomp and Circumstance

The royal carriage rattles up the cobblestone streets of Minas Tirith and the citizens stop in their daily doings to bow or curtsy as it passes, thinking their King and Queen inside. The carriage slows at each gate, the sharp turns and steep inclines leading up to the next level cumbersome for the horses and difficult to maneuver. A less experienced coachman might have struggled, but the transitions are smoother than the passengers would have expected. When at last they reach the seventh gate and the ramp leading up to the citadel, the coachman pulls the horses to a halt and jumps down to open the door. Sauron, Rick and the hobbits clamber down the carriage steps to find a very familiar face awaiting them.

“My friends,” exclaims Beregond, beaming down at the hobbits. 

“Hullo, Beregond,” Frodo and Sam say, grinning up at the man. They bow to each other formally, then drop all pretense to share a brief hug. 

“It is wonderful to see you again,” Frodo says. 

“It is most heartening to see you both as well. We were worried when we learned of your long journey,” Beregond says kindly before focusing on Rick and Sauron. “Prince Faramir is in council with King Elessar at the moment, and they bid me to come and collect you. I am to escort you to the King’s apartments and wait with you there for him to arrive.” 

Sauron only nods his consent. Rick takes their packs as the coachman hands them down from the rack and passes them to their owners. Once everything is sorted out, he turns to the coach, concerned. “What will happen to my horse?” he asks. 

“I’ll stable him with the messenger horses here on the sixth circle, sir,” the coachman promises, pausing to admire the majestic stallion. “He is an extraordinary beast. Is he of Rohan then?”

“No, he is of Near Harad,” Rick answers proudly and pretends not to notice the coachman’s startled reaction.

“Well, he has a gentle manner at least,” the coachman says kindly and with a hint of surprise, as though he had expected horses belonging to the Haradrim to be vicious and unruly creatures. He then bows ever so slightly to Sauron and says stiffly, “Your horse is here too, Lord. He arrived just a few days ago. He’s also been stabled with the messenger horses.”

“Thank you,” Sauron replies, not surprised at all to hear that his horse has already come to the city. He has always thought that Brego has a bit of the Mearas blood in him, for the horse has an uncanny ability of knowing when he will be needed and often comes without bidding.

The coachman mounts the coach seat again and with a quick flick of the reins, the horses start forward, pulling the carriage in a wide circle and back down the street to the stables. When  he is gone, Beregond turns and leads the others up the ramp to the seventh circle. Frodo and Sam quickly fall in on either side, while Rick and Sauron follow behind. 

“It will be wonderful to catch up with you,” Frodo says. “I know Pippin will be eager for word of you and Bergil.” 

Beregond grins, almost laughing. “As I am most eager to hear of your travels, but that will have to wait, I’m afraid, for the others to join us. I do not believe we shall have to wait long, but there is much going on at the moment, and a feast is being prepared to celebrate your return, among other things.”

“Other things?” Sam asks. 

“Rick,” Beregond says, ignoring Sam to look over his shoulder at the young man. “It is good to see you again. We have received word from Rohan that your family is well, and your sister-in-law is expecting a child this winter.”

“Wonderful!” Rick says, beaming proudly. “I will have to send my congratulations before we set out again.”

“King Elessar will be wanting a private word with you, Sauron, before the day is through,” Beregond goes on, delivering the last of his instructions.

“It’s Aliesacan now,” Sam says.

“Yes, we’ve changed his name to one more appealing,” Rick says, “no matter what he says to the contrary.”

“Al-i-sah-cahn?” Beregond repeats carefully, sounding out the unusual name. “Is this a Haradrim name?”

“No, his Haradrim name is Yigalos, and his Khand name is Azatash,” Rick announces, greatly enjoying this recitation. “Aliesacan and Yigalos both mean ‘one who seeks redemption’ and Azatash means ‘fire of freedom’.”

“Is that so?” Beregond asks, not knowing what to make of any of this. “I see that you have much to tell us then. It should be an interesting tale. For now, however, I think it best to see you all settled from your journey before things get too exciting. It wouldn’t do for our guests of honor to be too exhausted to enjoy their own feast.”

They come out of the tunnel into the sunlit citadel. Ahead of them on the main avenue, the White Tree shines in the midst of the sparkling pool before the White Tower and the Citadel, the King’s House. The tree is in full blossom, its fragrant flowers filling the air all around them, seeming to welcome them home. The motionless sentries on either side of the tree watch them approach with vigilant eyes. 

They pass the sentries and continue up the walkway to the Citadel steps. Once inside, they follow Beregond upstairs to the King’s private apartments on the top floor. The guards at the base of the final staircase bow to the Ring-bearers, right fist over heart. They then salute Beregond before one turns and goes up the stairs. He returns a minute later trailed by a young girl of about twelve years, her long brown hair pulled back in a thick plait. She is one of Queen Arwen’s maids of honor, and she bows also before escorting them upstairs.

“Good day, my Lords, Captain, and honored guests,” she says. “I am Rodina, daughter of Vaclar, and I am attending Queen Arwen today. My Lady will be with you as soon as she is ready to receive you. Please, sit and make yourselves comfortable. Will you require refreshment while you wait?”

“You are speaking to perian, Miss Rodina, and they are ever hungry,” Beregond teases. “We will be needing more than the usual refreshment, if I am not quite mistaken.” He winks down at Frodo and Sam before seating himself on one of the settees. 

“But not too much more,” Frodo amends. “If there is to be a feast, we will want to be properly hungry for it.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Rodina says and curtsies. She disappears through the doorway on the southern side of the parlor, which leads to the dining room and the kitchen beyond.

When she is gone, Frodo, Sam and Rick sit on the settee across from Beregond, while Sauron takes one of the chairs. There is a moment of awkward silence before Frodo sits forward and addresses the soldier. “How fairs Ithilien?” he asks. “What news of Bergil and the Lady Éowyn? We should like to visit with them before we leave for home, if that can be arranged.”

“Then you are in luck, Lord Frodo, for they are both here today as well,” Beregond informs them with a mirthful grin.

“They are?” Sam says. “For the feast? Who all’s coming? Mayhap we should have brought more formal attire than what we have, Mr. Frodo.” He speaks mostly of himself, for his master’s clothes, even after the long trek across the desert stuffed at the bottom on his pack, will still be suitable enough for a feast among friends. 

Beregond’s grin widens and it is only with much difficulty that he stifles a laugh. “Everyone is here, naturally, but I wouldn’t worry overmuch about your attire Lord Samwise,” he informs them. “To answer your other questions, Lord Frodo, Ithilien is well, a good sight better than it was just a few years ago. It took Bergil and me some time to adjust to the change, for the living there is much more rustic than it is here in the city, but it has been a good change for us. He is better suited to woodlands and streams than to a city of stone, and he has found friends new and old among those settling in the region. It is good to hear him laugh; I was so afraid I would never hear that delightful sound again.”

“Children have a way of finding the joys of life, if they are but given the chance,” Frodo says. 

They gossip about many pleasant things as they wait for the Queen to join them. Rodina soon brings their refreshments loaded on a silver cart and serves them ale or wine before retreating to wait on the Queen. The conversation lulls for a while as the weary travelers munch on the snacks: apples, oranges, grapes, fresh loaves of warm bread, and cheese slices. Frodo and Sam are just finishing their second and final plate – dinner is just a short way off after all – when the parlor door opens and Elessar arrives, followed by Faramir, Legolas and Gimli.

The happy hellos last for some time, and the hobbits greet the latter two with much surprise and delight. Gimli mumbles grumpily at being hugged so often in such a short amount of time, but his eyes twinkle and he laughs with joy all the same. 

“Now this is luck,” Sam says once all the hellos have been said. “We were worrit we’d not have time to stop in Rohan to see you, and here you are!”

“We have been hearing many interesting rumors,” Gimli informs them. “Something told me it was time to visit an old friend and perhaps I might meet more.”

“Rumors?” Frodo says.

“About your travels,” Legolas elaborates. “They came to us first in Rohan, where I was visiting Gimli.”

“Did you really expect us to miss your homecoming?” Gimli asks smugly. 

“Well, yes actually,” Frodo answers, at a loss. He and Sam share a bewildered look. They glance back at Beregond, who is now standing by the settee with Rick and Sauron, then at Elessar, and finally back to Legolas and Gimli. “It’s just, we were told our quest was a secret to all, but you would have had to leave Rohan weeks ago to be here before us.”

“Secret to all?” says a voice from the entryway. “Then you really shouldn’t have sent that letter to your cousins, my dear Frodo, especially when they are such inquisitive cousins as we are. Don’t you agree, Pip?”

“You’re absolutely right, Merry,” Pippin replies, and they both grin toothily at Frodo and Sam.

A moment later they are nearly bowled over by Frodo, too excited to contain his mirth and surprise. He hugs his cousins fiercely and they return the gesture just as strongly. “Merry! Pippin!” Frodo exclaims, tears of delight filling his eyes. He blinks several times before releasing them, and they let go with some reluctance. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, silly Baggins,” Merry answers, and he and Pippin look their cousin over for signs of injury or some other trauma. Satisfied with what they see, they then turn to Sam and hug him. 

“And you Sam,” Pippin says. “I see Frodo has again dragged you into trouble. I guess Merry and I are just going to have to move into Bag End ourselves, if this is what results from it.”

“I reckon we shouldn’t be surprised to be seeing you, but this sure isn’t what I expected,” Sam replies. “I more expected to come home and find that you two went and sold Bag End to the Bracegirdles.”

“We were tempted,” Merry says, “and had we the time, we might just have done so, or at the very least auctioned off all his favorite things.”

“I’m sorry, lads, but—” Frodo begins but he’s interrupted when Merry looks past them to Beregond and the two strange men standing beside him. He narrows his eyes at them, as though recognizing them from somewhere, though he has never seen them before. This causes Pippin to look also, and the young Took's eyes widen when he sees Sauron. He inches ever so slightly towards Merry.

“These are our traveling companions,” Frodo says, noticing where their attention has been drawn. He motions to them each in turn as he introduces them. “This is Childeric, son of Theuderic of the Eastemnet, but everyone calls him Rick. This is Aliesacan.”

“Aliesacan?” Elessar repeats with interest.

“That’s not Sauron?” Merry asks, dubious.

“Oh, he is, but we changed his name to something more suitable,” Rick explains happily. “We call him Aliesacan now.”

“I keep asking them not to,” Sauron tells Elessar, whose smile is hidden beneath his beard.

Merry narrows his eyes at Sauron and his hands tighten into fists. Pippin inches closer still, trembling slightly. 

“What are you doing here though?” Frodo asks again, noticing these signs of distress in his cousins and hoping to distract them. 

Merry slowly pulls his eyes away from Sauron and focuses on Frodo. Again he searches his cousin for signs of some hidden injury but seeing none he merely takes Pippin’s hand for the briefest of moments before replying, “Well, my dear Frodo, you sent us this lovely letter saying you were leaving, that you didn’t know when you’d be back, that you couldn’t tell us where you were going or why, and that we should not under any circumstances attempt to follow you for you’d be two weeks gone by the time the letter arrived.”

“So naturally, we had to figure out what happened, where you went and why, and come after you,” Pippin says. 

“It is a most fascinating investigation,” Faramir says, “but a rather long one to hear. Perhaps we would be more comfortable if we all sat down first.”

“Yes, of course,” Elessar agrees and beckons everyone to take their seats. The hobbits now sit with Rick on one settee, while Beregond, Faramir and Sauron take the other. Elessar, Legolas and Gimli seat themselves in the chairs. It doesn’t escape Elessar’s notice that Legolas and Gimli have positioned themselves closest to the hobbits, and that Pippin had been seated resolutely between Merry and Frodo. He notices also that Beregond and Faramir have flanked Sauron, though he guesses this is more for Pippin’s comfort than a mistrust of the Maia.

Pippin is scared, that much is plain to everyone. This is part of the reason Frodo had hoped to save his cousins from coming face to face with Sauron. That incident with the palantír still troubles Pippin at times. This, combined with Merry’s inherit protectiveness, would have only led to disaster before they even reached Rohan. He now hopes that Merry can contain himself with so many others willing to protect Pippin if need be. 

Frodo looks at his friends, tying to sort of the riddle of their presence. Legolas and Gimli had obviously been picked up in Rohan by Merry and Pippin. It makes sense, for Legolas can track most anything, no matter how old the trail. That explains why there are here. Faramir will of course have business in the Citadel from time to time, and Beregond will naturally accompany him. Frodo supposes also that the Lady Éowyn may well come to visit with Arwen and to continue her work in the Houses of Healing. Why Bergil will be here too cannot entirely be explained away by a feast, unless he has heard that Pippin is here also. The two are good friends. But where is Arwen? Surely she must be finished with whatever she had been doing when they arrived by now.

“I suppose I should start,” Merry says. “Strider’s been good enough to fill us in on everything, up to you leaving for Khand, and he even knew some of the journey through Harandor. We’ll want to hear the rest of it naturally but that can wait for the moment.

“As I already mentioned, you had requested your letter to be sent to us after two weeks, which meant by the time we got it, two and-a-half weeks had passed. We were most dismayed to read your news, or lack of it as it was, and we couldn’t figure what would have possessed you to leave the Shire yet again. We weren’t very happy about being given the slip. We have many words to speak to you on that account, cousin, but that too will have to wait as we have more important things to be getting on with.

“By the time we closed up Crickhollow, packed our things, gathered our ponies and spoke with Mother and Father, another two days had passed, so we didn’t get to Hobbiton until a good 20 days after you left. Why Hobbiton, you must be asking yourself? We needed to investigate the scene of the crime, in a manner of speaking, and gather what news we could get to try to determine what exactly happened to you and Sam. 

“We went directly to Bag End and found it locked against us. Fortunately, the Gaffer had a spare key, and we were able to get inside without having to break any windows. Everything was in perfect order; you had even cleaned and put away all the dishes this time. There were some strange scents in the air though, some sort of herbs we haven’t smelt before. One herb, however, we knew very well and that was athelas, so we knew right away that you had been ill. We noticed that your travel packs and cloaks were missing, which was only to be expected, but you had also taken Sting and Sam’s barrow blade. This was not necessarily a cause of alarm, except I did remember you once saying upon our return to the Shire that you never wished to carry a sword or weapon again. I figured that Sam was likely wearing both then, just in case you were attacked upon the road to wherever it was you were going.

“So far, everything checked out – until we went down to the Bush and discovered Bill and Strider in their stalls. This did cause alarm, for you must have left in a hurry from the sounds of your letter, which means you would not have gone on foot, especially if you only gave yourself a two-week head start. That might sound like plenty of time to most hobbits, but you and Sam both know how quickly our Rohan ponies can travel. Therefore, you must have ridden, yet you didn’t take your ponies nor did you hire any out, according to the barkeep, Geranius.

“Our next step then was to begin asking questions. We heard some very disturbing rumors about you, Frodo. It seems you’ve been quite ill for quite a long time, and have been downplaying it a great deal in your letters to us, meaning that you didn’t mention it at all. We will have to speak of that later also.

“It soon became apparent that no one had seen you outside Bag End for many weeks, but Sam had last been spotted at the Bush the same day a couple of Big Folk arrived. Minstrels from Rohan, Geranius told us. He gave us their names, which Pippin and I knew could only be stage names. He then went on to describe them to us and to tell us all about the songs they sang and what they were wearing, where they slept, what they ate, and how they interacted with each other and the hobbits who came into the Bush. ‘The young lad would make a good hobbit if he weren’t so tall,’ Geranius had said, ‘but the minstrel, he’s a quiet fellow and there’s more going on behind those eyes than he lets on, I wager. Still, he’s a nice enough chap, for all he’s a tall one. Near towered over his companion, he did.’ 

“Geranius then went on to tell us that they had been particularly interested in Sam when he came into the inn, but that they hadn’t spoken to him. He also said that the taller one had wanted to know about the Master of the Hill, thought he should go bothering him to let him know they were in town. Geranius thought he had talked them out of it, but when we asked around some more, we discovered that several hobbits had seen them head up the Hill the following morning and visit with you for some time. According to Geranius, the tall minstrel returned to the Bush shortly before second breakfast to purchase a pony-trap, though he couldn’t figure out why when they left with the same amount of baggage as they arrived with. The tall minstrel then packed up their camp, returned up the Hill and then both minstrels came down and promptly left town towards Whitwell. That was also the same day Sam visited the post messenger with your letters in your box and the instructions to wait two weeks before delivering them. You reportedly went back to Bag End, and no one had seen either of you since.

“We put all the clues together and it seemed quite clear that, for whatever reason, you had taken off with these minstrels, and you had done so in secret. Given the athelas lingering in the smial and everything we had heard about your illness, we assumed the worst: your health was failing you and you had beseeched these strangers for help in getting to Gondor and the King’s healing touch. We were completely wrong in your motivation, and your final destination, of course, but we never doubted that you would come to Gondor. 

“We gathered up travel supplies, released Bill and Strider from the stable and came after you. We knew we could not catch you on the road, for you had nearly a month’s head start by this point. You’d already be in Gondor and nearing Minas Tirith with every hour. The best we could hope for was to follow your trail as best we could and find you here. We didn’t follow your trail exactly though, as we cut across the Shire to save us a couple of days’ travel.

“When we reached Sarn Ford, the Rangers confirmed the minstrels had come back through that way, needing to collect their weapons. The Rangers said they had searched the cart but found no hobbits or any sign of anyone else traveling with the minstrels. They did say that the tall minstrel carried a sword of Gondorian make, early Second Age by his guess, which interested me, for what would a minstrel from Rohan be doing with such a blade? When we asked what their real names were, they said they didn’t know, which concerned us even more. Who could these men be and why would they have hidden Frodo and Sam from the Rangers? We suddenly weren’t so sure about our initial assessment of the situation, and we rode hard to Tharbad.

“We were told much the same there as at the Ford, except that the King’s Messengers there had different names for the men though they still knew them as minstrels. They then told us they did not search the cart but had asked how the performance in the Shire had gone, so apparently they had known the men’s destination. They did not however know where the minstrels were headed to next. Still, we had the men’s names, and though by this point we couldn’t assume they were true names, we hoped that we might be able to ask for news of the men as we made our way through Gondor, so long as they didn’t change their names again.

“By the time we reached the Gap of Rohan, we had attracted the attention of the wardens. A couple of them had come down from the foothills of the White Mountains to meet us. They knew me as their Holdwine once they came close enough, and they were curious to discover what had brought us from the Shire. Here at last we got some luck, though it wasn’t much. The wardens we spoke to had just relieved the previous wardens a week before, and the previous wardens had not reported any unusual activity. They had mentioned though that they had seen was a family coming through the Gap, presumably from Dunharrow, just a few weeks before. A family with young children would not have raised an alarm, and so the wardens would not have sent scouts down from the hills to inspect the situation. They would have been allowed to pass unhindered. Well, of course, I then had to ask what had caused these new wardens to think that we were a threat. They laughed and said that they had thought us a group of lost children and so had come down to assist us if need be. 

“We stopped in Edoras for a short stay, for surely Éomer King would know if the Ring-bearers had been brought into his lands for any reason. He had heard no such news and was as alarmed as we were by this odd development. It just so happened that the wardens who had seen the ‘family’ pass through the Gap were in the Capital, and Éomer called on them to give testimony on all they had seen. They had not much more to report, except that the ‘family’ had been watched until they were lost in the woods near the River Snowbourne.

“Éomer King then asked us for descriptions of these minstrels. We told him everything the hobbits, Rangers and King’s Messengers had told us about them, and Éomer grew even more troubled. He asked the wardens if that description had fit the ‘family’ they had seen, but the wardens could not be sure, not having seen them very well. However, they had seen a pair of men of similar description leaving through the Gap up the South Road just a couple of weeks earlier, and they too were most unsettled. When no one said anything else useful, I asked what it all meant, but Éomer refused to answer with so many present. He dismissed everyone except us and when we were alone, he told us that the minstrels did fit the description of another duo: a young man of Rohan, and Sauron.

“Well, as you can no doubt imagine, we very nearly panicked when we heard this! In fact, there was a moment that I thought we’d need to call for a healer! Éomer calmed us quickly though and assured us that Elessar trusts Sauron. He told us of Sauron’s reform and all that business about Valinor and losing his evil side. Still, he had to agree that it was more than a little unsettling that Sauron had taken the Ring-bearers out of the Shire in secret. That they appeared to be heading for Gondor was of little appeasement, for surely the King would have sent word to Éomer to inform him of this. 

“He sent for Legolas and Gimli, knowing they would both wish to continue on with us, and Legolas could track you all if we could find the trail. They arrived the next morning and refused rest. They took refreshment while we readied to set out, and we left before the sun had even fully risen. Legolas was able to find the trail well enough, but it soon veered off into the woods along the White Mountains. He refused to go in there, taking us instead by the straightest path to Minas Tirith. Along the way, we acquired a horse that Strider tells us belongs to Sauron, and he kept us company as we crossed the Pelennor. 

“We arrived here about two weeks ago and we’ve been waiting for your return ever since. We had quite a few words to be saying to Strider. ‘Really, you must learn to take care of your own problems without involving my cousin. I do believe he’s done quite enough for your lot’ and other things of that nature. It took some time for Strider to explain everything to us, and even longer to convince us to stay put and wait. He finally had to order Pippin to remain in the Citadel, knowing Pippin couldn’t break oath and that I wouldn’t go without him. Besides, we couldn’t all very well go marching off into enemy territory, it would simply be unthinkable, so we are quite grateful that Strider put a stop to it before we could get ourselves into trouble. Still, we weren’t very happy with him, all things considered, and I’m afraid to say we haven’t been the most pleasant of house guests, accusing him at every chance and turning the Citadel upside down these last few days while we prepared for your arrival.”

Rick grins at Sauron and laughs. “And we thought we were being stealthy.”

“There’s none stealthier than hobbits,” Sam says.

“So I’ve learned,” Sauron agrees. 

“That is quite the investigation,” Frodo says proudly to his cousins, but he quickly becomes troubled. “I’m sorry Strider. It was supposed to be a secret, I know that, but I simply couldn’t take off without sending word to my cousins. I did rather hope they would listen and stay put, but I suppose that was silly of me.”

“We would have come one way or the other,” Merry says. “There were already rumors going around about the two of you disappearing, or worse. I heard Robin Smallburrows and the Gaffer even went into the smial just the week before to make sure you both weren’t dead. We would have heard the rumors eventually, and so it wouldn’t have been much different in the end, except maybe we might have met you on the road coming back. This way, folk did at least know what happened to you. They weren’t worried so much once they heard you’d gone off for the Blue again. They just waved their hands and shook their heads and said what a tragedy it is that you’ve become another Mad Baggins. I didn’t have time to argue with everyone on that account, so I made Ted Sandyman an example for others to keep their mouths shut, at least while we were there."

“What’d you do to Sandyman?” Sam asks.

“Stripped him bare and pushed him in the river,” Pippin answers brightly. “Don’t worry, we got him out after a minute and made sure he was all right before making him walk home. But we kept his clothes.”

“Good one!” Sam says, snickering gleefully. None of them have any love for Sandyman, and even Frodo only pities him.

“That was rather cruel, don’t you think?” Frodo asks.

“No,” Merry and Pippin chorus.

Frodo raises his eyebrows at them but they remain resolute. “Then I suppose it’s time for my side of the tale,” he goes on.

“Not exactly,” Pippin says, sharing a knowing glance with Merry. The others quickly find other things to occupy their attention. Legolas, Beregond and Faramir suddenly take great interest in the rug beneath their feet, and Elessar and Gimli begin to study the walls and ceiling. Rick and Sauron notice the change in mood and they sit forward slightly.

“What do you mean?” Frodo asks.

“Well,” Pippin begins uncertainly. He fidgets in his seat for a bit, then takes a deep breath before looking around Frodo at Sam. “I’m sorry, Sam, but it’s Rosie.”

At these words, a cold weight drops in Sam’s belly and slowly begins spreading its brutal chill throughout his body. His lungs feel constricted, as they would in a heavy snowstorm, and the room teeters slightly. He remembers his dream vision, the lass crying, the lass and lad getting married by the river. He only vaguely feels Frodo taking his hand and the rest of the room drops away as he focuses solely on Merry and Pippin. “Rosie?” he croaks as he begins to tremble from the cold. Had he finally done it? Had he driven her away to marry some other chap?

Pippin nods sympathetically and continues. “Yes, Rosie. You see, she’d got her letter also, four days before we got there, exactly on the two-week mark. She was quite distraught about it, and when she heard we were in town asking questions, well, she came to see us. Came marching straight up the Lane and I swear there was a blaze of fire following her, she was marching that fast. The look on her face… I never thought I could be that scared, not after the Palantír.”

“That was you,” Sauron says, finally placing the face with the event. He had known Pippin looked familiar from somewhere. Everyone turns to look at him, Merry accusing, Pippin frightened, the others knowing. “I’m sorry about torturing you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Merry’s expression turns to surprise and Pippin’s to confusion. Pippin eventually nods. “Thanks,” he mutters uncertainly and turns back to Sam. It takes him a moment to get his bearings back before he can continue. “So, like I was saying, she was a right mess. Angry doesn’t come close to describing it. She couldn’t believe you’d up and leave again, and her waiting here three years for you to ask her to marry you. She was just beside herself and wanted to know everything we knew. She seemed to think you might have told us more than you did her, but we showed her our letter and it was more or less identical in information to hers. Then we told her what we had pieced together so far and well… She just sort of… I’m sorry,” he finishes clumsily.

“We did try to talk her out of it,” Merry takes over, speaking consolingly. “We did everything we could. Even the Gaffer and her parents and her brothers, everyone, but nothing any of us said would sway her to change her mind. She’s quite a stubborn lass when she wants to be and she was determined, you see. She was tired of waiting around for you, said she wouldn’t do it anymore, said there’s more than one way to fry an egg. Up until we left, we tried our best to make her see sense, but she wouldn’t have it. I’m sorry, Sam, there was nothing we could do.”

Sam nods slowly, almost groggily. He has no feeling left in him at all. In fact, he feels much the same way he had when he had been swallowed by the Anduin. The room swims before his eyes, murky to his senses but more real than anything he had ever known before. He swallows convulsively and fights back the tears that threaten to fall at any moment. “So she… she…” he tries to say the words ‘got married’ but they refuse to escape his throat and he ends up choking on them. He closes his eyes and hides his face behind his hands as the tears spill over, and so doesn’t notice when Arwen and Rodina and two other attendants at last enter the parlor to join the proceedings. 

“So she came with them,” says a sweetly familiar voice and Sam’s head shoots up. His eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks streamed with tears, but his face is now hopeful and filled with wonder as he looks into the soft brown eyes of his beloved Rose, barely noticing her brother Jolly standing beside her.

“Rosie!” he exclaims as life rushes back into him. The others are now beaming, most of them laughing mirthfully at Sam’s delight. Sam jumps up to his feet but Rosie holds out a hand to stay him.

“I came with them,” she continues firmly, “because you are too much of a ninnyhammer to speak your mind, Samwise Gamgee. We’re getting married tonight and I don’t want any arguments from you about it. It’s all been arranged. King Elessar has agreed to proceed the ceremony, and we’ve got all our witnesses. It’s not an official hobbit wedding, the King not being in the employ of the Mayor and all that, but we’ll just have to make sure the Thain, Master and Mayor make it official when we get back home. Now follow Jolly to the library where the tailor is waiting for you. We’ve only got an hour to wash you up and fit you into a proper suit. We borrowed one from Dad so it will be a bit big on you, I think. It’ll need taking in some. … That is, if you want to marry me?” she finishes uncertainly.

“Of course I do,” Sam rushes to reassure. He steps past the others and takes her hand. “I’d marry you right now, right here in this room, without all that pomp if that’s what you want.”

“That’s the general idea,” Rosie says, smiling with relief. She lets out a great sigh and throws her arms around Sam. She kisses his cheek before pulling away, then takes out a handkerchief to wipe away his tears. “Sorry about misleading you, love, that was their idea. They seemed to think you deserved it.” 

“He did,” Merry, Pippin and Jolly say. 

“Jolly,” Sam says and hugs his friend. “Rosie’s one thing, but you?”

“I couldn’t very well let Rosie march off across the Blue alone with Capt. Merry and Capt. Pippin, now could I? Rosie’s a proper lass and if she went off unsupervised with two lads she’s not even related to, why, it’d have caused a scandal. Tom wanted to come, seemed to think you deserved a good pounding, but then Marigold would have wanted to come also, and she’s expecting. So I came,” Jolly explains and narrows his eyes at his best friend. He takes Sam by the arm none too gently and yanks him down the hall. “Come on, Sam, we need to get that suit fitted on you, and I need to have a word with you about how to properly treat my sister.”

Jolly leads Sam away and the room erupts into relieved laughter. It takes some time for the din to quiet and when it does, Rosie comes to stand before Frodo, her arms crossed.

“And you, Frodo Baggins,” she starts cheekily, and Frodo sobers immediately. She opens her mouth to say something more, but stops suddenly. She takes a step back, as though to see Frodo more clearly. Then her face splits into a grin. “Why, Mr. Frodo! Don’t you look the portrait of health! I’ve not seen you smile or heard you laugh for too many years, sir, if you don’t mind me saying. Is that because my Sam went with you?”

“It is, a very large part of it,” Frodo confirms.

“Well, then, I suppose I can forgive you, but just know that in the future, if you plan on taking my Sam away anywhere, you’re going to have me coming along too,” Rosie announces.

“My dear Rose, I think I can safely promise that I have no plans to ever leave the Shire again once we return,” Frodo says. “Sam’s all yours.”

“He ain’t at that,” Rosie says. “He’s yours too. We’re just going to have to find a way to share him, is all.”

“If you move into Bag End, that’ll make it easier, don’t you think?” Frodo says.

“I suppose it will,” Rosie agrees. “We’ll just have to do that then.”

Frodo stands and takes her hand. He kisses it respectfully and squeezes it. “Thank you, lass.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

“Come, Lady Rose,” Arwen says then. “We must finish the veil.” The ladies exit down the hall, Rodina following behind them.

“Now you can tell us your side of the story, Frodo,” Merry says. “We’ve an hour to wait so we might as well make use of it.”

So Frodo, Rick and Sauron briefly recount their journey from the Shire to Khand and back to Gondor. They only have time to hit upon the highlights but everyone is most impressed with the tale all the same. By the time they finish, Merry and Pippin both seem a tad more accepting of Sauron, but they both remain weary as well. Finally, Pippin stands and bravely goes to stand in front of Sauron where he sits between Beregond and Faramir. 

“So he’s reformed?” he asks. “You’re certain about it?”

“I am,” Frodo says. 

“Really, really certain?”

“Yes.”

“There’s no doubt whatsoever?”

“None.”

“Good.” Pippin then draws back his foot and kicks Sauron’s leg three times in quick succession. Sauron cries out in surprise and pain, and Merry leaps from his seat and pulls Pippin away before the others even register what has happened. 

“Pippin!” Merry exclaims. “Are you mad!”

“I had to get him back for what he did to Frodo, Sam and me,” Pippin explains, “but I wasn’t about to do that if he wasn’t really reformed, you see?”

Gimli lets out a great snort, releasing the tension, and the others follow suit. Sauron clutches his leg, his eyes tearing slightly, but he too chuckles ruefully.

“What about me?” Merry asks Pippin.

“He didn’t do anything to you, Merry,” Pippin replies.

“No, but his Witch King did,” Merry points out.

“And the Witch King stabbed Frodo too,” Pippin adds and raises his foot again. Merry wisely pulls him back farther. 

“I think he gets the message,” Merry says.

“Indeed,” says Sauron. “Don’t mess with hobbits, for they are stubborn and sure of the mark.”

The others erupt into laughter again, and even Merry and Pippin manage to smile. 

Just at that time, a guard comes into the parlor and announces the arrival of more guests. Elessary leads his friends downstairs to the main reception parlor, where Lady Éowyn and Bergil are waiting, along with others who the hobbits had come to know well while they lived in the city after the War. Soon the parlor is crowded over, and when Rodina comes down to announce that all is ready, the guests make their way outside to the Great Lawn. 

Wildflowers are in full bloom, and bees and dragonflies zip around their heads. Elessar presides, having been supplied with the proper hobbit vows by Merry and Rosie. Rodina serves as the Maid of Honor, and Frodo and Jolly as the Best Hobbits, and Arwen sings a traditional Elvish ballad as first Sam then Rose come up the walk path to stand under the awning, the ivy-covered mountainside in the distance behind it. 

Sam looks smart in Tolman Cotton’s suit. He thankfully had time for a quick bath while the suit was being modified for his use, though it is more than the quick and brutal scrubbing that makes him glow so bright. He only has eyes for his bride, and she too radiates with joy and love as she follows him up the path. Her dress is simple but lovely, made from the finest Elvish silk so that the soft pink shimmers with red, gold and orange as the material shifts in the fading sunlight. She clasps hands with Sam, their eyes locking.

Elessar smiles down at them and begins solemnly. “Marriage is not a vow to be taken, or given, lightly. You will find that a life together will be both joyous and trying, it will have both comfort and conflict, triumphs and trials. Only those of sound mind and full understanding of what they are about to undertake may be so joined, and only when it is of their own choosing. Rose Cotton, have you come here today of your own free will and accord, and do you understand the duties and blessings of marriage?”

“Yes I do,” Rosie says. 

“With whom do you come and whose blessings accompany you?”

Jolly bows, clasping his hands tightly behind him. “She comes with me and with the blessing of all her family.”

Elessar next addresses Sam. “Samwise Gamgee, have you come here today of your own free will and accord, and do you understand the duties and promises of marriage?”

“Yes I do,” Sam says.

“With whom do you come and whose blessings accompany you?”

Jolly bows again. “I have come for his father, Hamfast Gamgee, and bring the blessing of his family.” 

Elessar then addresses the congregation. “Is it the agreement of those assembled here today that this couple be joined in marriage?”

“It is,” says the assembly as one.

“Will the bride and groom face each other and touch right hands together,” Elessar instructs, even though they are already doing so. Elessar speaks to Rose first. “What is your name?”

“Rose Cotton.”

“And what is your desire?”

“To join with Sam, who I love.”

Rodina reaches into her dress pocket for the bride’s wedding cloth, a plain white kerchief with roses embroidered along the edges. She hands the cloth to Elessar, who folds it lengthwise and wraps it about their wrists. “With this symbol of your love, so speak your promise.”

Rosie smiles prettily and speaks for all to hear. “I, Rose Cotton, do take you, Samwise Gamgee, as my husband. Now do I make my promises to you. I promise to share laughter in times of joy and wonder; to share tears when sorrow touches our lives; to share my dreams and hopes, that our love and minds may grow; to share compassion and understanding during times of frustration and anger; to share all that I have, and all that I am, to the end of days.”

Elessar turns to Sam. “What is your name?”

“Samwise Gamgee.”

“And what is your desire?”

“To join with Rose, who I love.”

Jolly reaches into his waistcoat pocket and hands the broom’s wedding cloth to Frodo, how passes it to Elessar. The kerchief is deep green with an eagle stitched at it’s center, and clutched in its talons is a wreath of elanor. Sam looks at it in awe, wondering how they had found it in his room to bring with them, but Jolly just grins smugly and winks at him. Don’t underestimate the inquisitiveness of friends, the wink says. Sam smiles gratefully, then returns his gaze to Rose as Elessar drapes the groom’s cloth over the other and about their wrists. “With this symbol of your love, so speak your promise.”

“I, Samwise Gamgee, do take you, Rose Cotton, as my wife. Now do I make my promises to you. I promise to share with you laughter in times of joy and wonder; to share tears when sorrow touches our lives; to share my dreams and my hopes, so that our love and minds may grow; to share compassion and understanding during times of frustration and anger; to share all that I have, and all that I am, to the end of days.”

Now Elessar places his hands over Sam’s and Rose’s, and he speaks an Elven chant of blessing. Then he releases them and looks up at the congregation once more. “By your vows of love and these symbols of unity, I now declare you husband and wife.”

Sam and Rose sign the wedding document and the seven witnesses come forward to add their signatures in red ink: Frodo Baggins, Master of Bag End; Meriadoc Brandybuck of Buckland; Wilcome Cotton of Bywater; Prince Legolas of Ithilien; Lord Gimli of the Glittering Caves; Prince Faramir of Ithilien; Beregond of Ithilien. Finally King Elessar of the House of Telcontar seals the document with his signature as officiator, making it official. Then Sam sweeps Rose into a bear hug, and they kiss soundly as the others applaud and come forward to congratulate the happy couple.

The wedding feast lasts all night and well into the morning, with the newlyweds disappearing sometime around midnight. The guests slowly dispatch to their rooms within the Citadel, and Frodo, Merry and Pippin stagger to their room in the King’s private apartment. They yawn as one and fall into the massive bed, not even bothering to undress.

“Where did Sam and Rose go?” Frodo asks.

“Our house on the fourth circle,” Merry answers. “That’s where we’ve been staying while we waited for you.”

Then they drop off to blissful sleep.

They remain in the city for a week as planned before leaving for home. Rick and Sauron leave much sooner, staying only a couple of days before departing.

“Be careful in Harad,” Frodo cautions. “I’ll be expecting letters telling me how it all went.”

“As will I,” Sam adds. 

“I’ll keep good notes then,” Rick promises.

“We might even stop by for a visit one day, if we’re able,” Sauron says.

“That will be lovely,” Frodo says. “Thank you, Aliesacan, for everything.”

“And thank you, Frodo,” Sauron says, “for giving me a second chance.”

They exchange hugs and see the Man and Maia on their way, leading their horses down the cobblestone streets.

“Do you think Frodo will be all right?” Rick asks, turning back to wave one last time as the hobbits’ house disappears behind the curve in the street.

“I think he has a chance now,” Sauron says. “It’s up to Frodo what to do with it. I don’t think he’ll be wasting it this time, and his friends will make sure he doesn’t forget what he’s learned here.”

“You think so?”

“Most definitely. I smell another Conspiracy brewing,” he says and laughs but refuses to elaborate until they are out of the city.

That night, while Rose is distracting Frodo with dinner selections, Sam gets Merry and Pippin alone in the little study of their house and closes the door. 

“What’s going on, Sam?” Merry asks.

“I need to ask you something, and I’m hoping the answer will be good, for Mr. Frodo’s sake I mean. You see, I’ve a plan, but it won’t come to naught if the answer isn’t good,” Sam says.

“All right then, what’s the question?” Pippin asks.

“Is Miss Melilot Brandybuck still courting Mr. Everard Took?” Sam asks.

Merry and Pippin pause, confounded by such an odd and seemingly unrelated question. “No,” Merry answers. “Everard’s marrying Pervinca in the autumn, so we do need to be getting back. Pervinca will skin us alive if we miss the wedding.”

“Is she courting anybody else?” Sam presses on, getting excited.

“Well, she’s always courting a lad or two, but she’s not serious about any of them. Sam, what’s this about?” Merry asks.

Sam doesn’t answer right away but smiles widely and bounces on his feet. Then he leans in and tells them his plan.

To be concluded…

GF  8/11/07