Author notes:  The Eagles of Middle-earth are apparently very long lived.  The deeds of Thorondor, in The Silmarillion, span hundreds of years. 

STARSHIP

Chapter 2: Time in a Bottle

"Elves!" exclaimed Sam in a hoarse whisper. "Elves, sir!" He would have burst out of the trees and dashed off towards the voices, if they had not pulled him back.  ‘Three is Company’, The Fellowship of the Ring

In the pre-dawn darkness, Sam slipped quietly down the corridor past Tom and Robin’s rooms, and the large bedroom where Bilbo, his wife, and their twin babies Bell and Lily lay sleeping.  Reaching the front parlor, he wrapped his Elven cloak about his shoulders, plucked his favorite walking stick out of the stand, opened the front door, and breathed in the early-morning autumn crispness.  The fragrances from the flowers and vegetables competed for his attention, as always.  As the first rays of the sun warmed his face and touched the Hill, he gazed with pleasure at the lush gardens that were still the envy of Hobbiton.

If his children should wake and find him gone, they would be frantic with worry.  He had told them he was leaving just three days hence, but knew they were afraid he would slip away the same way Mr. Bilbo and Mr. Frodo had done.  But the dream had been so real, he just had to see... just in case... Closing the green door behind him, he walked down the Lane and made his way to the beautiful piece of land still known as the Party Field.  As his eyes sought out the mallorn, its beauty, as always, filled him with delight.  It stood tall and full, its marvellous leaves shining like molten gold.  The trilling of birds could be heard from its branches, and from behind its great trunk stepped a tall figure.

“Greetings, Samwise!” came a clear, familiar voice, and Sam’s heart swelled with excitement.  In all his years, in all his travels, he had never lost the thrill of seeing Elves.  He waved joyously, and walked as quickly as he could to the tree.

“Mr. Elladan, is that you?”

“Indeed, it is,” Elladan said, kneeling to embrace the hobbit.  “I have never understood how you always recognize me, even alongside my brother.  Very few are able to so easily tell us apart.”

“It’s because you call me ‘Samwise’.”

“Is it?” Elladan said, puzzled.  “I do so out of courtesy.  You asked my brother to call you Sam, but never said such to me.”

“That’s right,” Sam said with a chuckle.

“I see!” Elladan laughed.  “You are a sly hobbit indeed!”  The Elf's dark hair shone, and his eyes were merry, as they always were on his rare visits to the Shire.  He was dressed in simple green and brown such as a Ranger might wear, but his cloak bore the emblem of the White Tree.  “My friend, your land is as fair and rich as I remember.  The produce and goods you send to the South in trade are greatly valued.”

“Aye, the Lady’s blessing is on it still,” Sam agreed.  “That special earth she gave me enriched the trees and grass, which gave their magic to the crops, bees, and livestock.”

“And, in turn, to the people,” Elladan said softly, gazing at him with interest. 

“Perhaps so,” Sam admitted.  “I’m the same age now as my Gaffer was when he passed, but not nearly as ‘old’, if you get my meaning.”

“Indeed, I must admit I did not expect to find you looking so well.”   Sam’s once-golden curls were now silver-white, and his face creased from years of sun and laughter, but his step was sure, his eyes bright, and Elladan was delighted to sense no fading of his life energy.

“And I didn’t expect to ever see you without your brother,” Sam said, looking about.

Elladan shook his head.  “He is not here; one of us is always at the side of the King.”

“Come up to Bag End with me,” Sam urged.  “I want to hear all the news!  You’ll be wanting a good breakfast, and of course you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.  The lads might still be asleep.  I’m up early because... it’s odd, sir, but... I dreamed about Mr. Frodo last night, clearer than ever before.  He was standing right here, calling out to me.  I just had to come down and see if… well…” He sighed.  “I’m sure you think me quite foolish.”

“Think you so?” Elladan asked gently.  “I was hoping to find you somewhere alone, so we could speak in private.  And here you are.”  He gazed at the hobbit knowingly.  “So Frodo is not the only hobbit who has dreams of great clarity.”

“Is?” Sam asked eagerly.  “Has?  Then he’s still… I mean, I’ve been hoping he’s…”

“My sister assures me that he lives, and thrives,” Elladan told him, and Sam burst into tears.  “Come, sit by me.  There is much I need to tell you.”  He unfastened his cloak, and spread it on the damp grass for Sam to sit upon.  “I know that you are planning to leave soon.”

“In a few days,” Sam said, wiping his face.  “Did Strider guess?”

“Yes,” Elladan said.  "We were grieved to hear about your dear wife.  When Aragorn received your letter, he began keeping rather a close watch on you, and making a few plans.  He suspected that when you left Middle-earth it would be on the same date Frodo chose.”

“Yes, it seems fitting,” Sam agreed.  He cast his eyes to the ground.  “I don’t have any idea if the Elves will even let me sail, but--”

“You may sail, Samwise.”

“Oh!” Sam cried out in relief.  “That’s such a weight off my mind.  I was never sure if anyone knew what Mr. Frodo told me, or if ships were even still leaving the Havens.”

“They are, but we must speak of other things first.  Do you remember hearing about Radagast?”

Sam frowned in thought.  “I heard of him, long ago.  Didn’t he send an Eagle to rescue Gandalf from Saruman?”

“In a sense.  And it is of an Eagle that I have come to speak with you.”  Elladan put an arm around Sam's shoulders.  “When you and Frodo were rescued from the Fire, Gandalf was carried by the mighty Gwaihir.  They were first to reach where you lay.  Frodo was bleeding badly, as you know, so Gandalf took him in his arms and Gwaihir flew off.  Seconds later, Landroval reached you, and bore you away.  The third Eagle, Meneldor, would have rescued Gollum, but he was not there.”

“No,” Sam said quietly.  “He fell into the Crack of Doom.”

Elladan nodded.  “Meneldor is now full-grown,” he continued, “and one of the strongest of his kind ever sired.  He could only watch as his brothers carried you and Frodo away from the Fire, and has wished to be of some small service to the Ring-bearers before it is too late.  He has asked for the honor of bearing you.”

“Bearing me where?” Sam asked in confusion.  He gasped suddenly.  “Not all the way to the Blessed Realm, surely?”

“Nay, that is beyond the ability of even one as mighty as Meneldor.  The way chosen for you to reach the West is… unprecedented.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, puzzled.  “You said the Elves would let me go on one of their ships.”

“You will be going by ship,” Elladan said.  His eyes sought something to the east, and he smiled.  “Frodo foresaw truly that your time would come, if you so chose, although the means was hidden from him.  It is not by Sea that you are destined to travel.”

“You’re confusing me, sir.  I’m going by ship, but not on the Sea?  What other way is there?”

In answer, Elladan pointed to the star that held his gaze, shining brilliant white even in the brightening sky.

“That’s the star ship,” Sam said.  “Mr. Frodo’s glass had that light in it.  Lord Elrond’s father is--”

“Yes,” Elladan nodded.  “My grandsire, Eärendil.  It is that ship on which you will sail, Samwise.”

“What?”  Sam asked in astonishment.  “Up there, in the sky?  You're joking, surely.”

“I speak the truth.  It is to Vingilot that Meneldor will bear you.  Have you noticed that Eärendil has been brighter than usual this week?”

“We all have.  No one remembers ever seeing it so bright.”  Sam's eyes grew round with a sudden realization.  “He’s brighter because he’s closer?  For me?”

“For you,” Elladan said.  He waited patiently for several minutes, but Sam said nothing.  “Do you have any questions?”

“What’s he like?” Sam blurted out.

“That is all you wish to know?”  Elladan laughed heartily.

“I was just wondering…” Sam tried to explain.  “I mean, he was a Man, wasn’t he?  And then he turned into an Elf?  And what is he now?”  Suddenly he had a hundred questions to ask.  “How does he breathe up there?  Is it very cold?  How will I… I mean…”

“Ah, I understand,” Elladan said.  “I will tell you something of my grandsire.  He was born of both mortal and Elfkind, and was proved to have the finest qualities of both.  He chose to be numbered among the Eldar, for the sake of his wife, but dwelt long on these shores ’ere that choice was made.  Dear friend, we are not delivering you into the hands of a strange being who will risk any harm to you, or fail to attend to your comfort.”  He smiled encouragingly.  “Although enhanced by the Valar in many ways, Eärendil is a living person, who breathes as we do.  Círdan of the Havens says that Vingilot carries with it air enough.”

“I see,” Sam said, nodding slowly.  “Vingilot has sort of a bubble around it?  It’s rather like one of those ships-in-bottles that Rosie and I saw in a shop in Minas Tirith years back.”

“It could be thought of that way,” Elladan agreed.  “As for the cold… He will sail as low as permitted, and forego a night passage.  The warmth of Anor will be with you for as long as you are aloft.”

“Is it really possible?” Sam asked in wonder.  “Who arranged all this?”

“Ever since your letter arrived, Aragorn, my sister, and Radagast have been in communication; Radagast is the one who contacted Meneldor.”

“Who talked to…” Sam shyly pointed up to the brilliant star.

Elladan shook his head.  “I do not know; however, wizards have abilities of which we still know very little, and the Powers look with favor upon you.  I do not understand all the details myself, but I am assured that everything has been arranged.  Meneldor will meet us north of the Emyn Beraid, and bear you aloft when Eärendil comes overhead that day.”

“North of the Tower Hills?  But the Havens are west.”

“They are,” Elladan said, “but to the north we must go.”

“We?” Sam asked with delight.

“Yes... that is, if you will allow me to accompany you.”

“Oh, that would be splendid, sir!” Sam said joyfully.  “Ellie will love to see you.  She lives out there, you know.”

“I know,” Elladan said.  “I will be pleased to see Lady Elanor again.”  He hesitated.  “There is something else I must tell you.  To sail upon Vingilot is a great honor, but there is a restriction of which I must speak.  You will need to be asleep for the voyage.”

“That’s too bad.” Sam said frankly.  “I would have liked to...”  He suddenly imagined what it might be like, up so high, and started to chuckle.  “Maybe it’s for the best, at that.”

“Your dreams have grown in clarity,” Elladan reminded him.  “Perhaps Lord Irmo will permit you some memory to comfort you.”

“Mr. Bilbo said once that Vingilot was made of mithril and elven glass,” Sam mused.  He looked up at the brilliant light traveling slowly across the sky.  “It’ll be like being inside Mr. Frodo’s star glass!”

“Perhaps it will,” Elladan said thoughtfully.  “It is certainly as close as any of us will ever come to it.”

** TBC **