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In the Court of the High King  by Dreamflower

 
Chapter 9

The rest of the afternoon-- broken by luncheon and tea, of which the hobbits partook as hobbits will, and the Men partook but lightly-- was spent in discussing what trade would be profitable for Arnor and the Shire in particular, as well as what would profit Gondor.  Not only the granite from Shire quarries and of course pipe-weed, but wool and woolen goods and some other things, while the hobbits were interested in the exotic spices and other fine things of the East which made their way through Gondor.

The hobbits finally took their leave after tea, and Master Calembel went out with them, still speaking animatedly with Mosco Burrows, who was explaining some of the intricacies of smial building with him.  The Queen also took her leave, as she wished to meet with her handmaidens before the supper hour.

"Well, Hiril, what did you think of it all?" Aragorn asked his kinsman once they were alone.

"I am pleased to find these hobbits so willing to listen and to work with us.  I must confess that over the years, most of the hobbits I have known have been suspicious sorts, or else timid.  Of course, I knew very few hobbits from the Shire; most of those whom I met were Bree-landers."

Aragorn laughed.  "If anything, the average Shire-hobbit is even more timid and suspicious than the average Bree-lander.  But these hobbits are anything but average. Every delegate is kin of one degree or another to the four heroes of the War.  And all of them were somewhat tempered by their experiences during the occupation of the Shire by Saruman's lackeys.  In addition, they have been seasoned by travelling with our people on their journey here."

"Do you believe you will need to make the edict banning Men from the Shire permanent?"

The King sighed.  "I do not know.  It is still early to tell how well it will work; but I do not want the peaceful hobbits of the Shire to have to deal with another incursion.  I know that Frodo indicated in his letter that he feels it is a good idea, and I am inclined to trust his wisdom in this."

"I know that Hador wants hobbits to dwell among the Men in Annúminas, much as they do in Bree.  He feels that it would be good for the Dúnadan to have hobbits among them."

Aragorn nodded.  "I too, would like to see such an arrangement.  I was most surprised by young Master Mosco's offer-- but having a hobbit assist in the building of the capital is the best way I know of to see that we have a place where both races could be comfortable."

"Well, I will have quite a report to send my brother.  With your leave, sire, I would like to go and prepare it while my memory of the conversations is still fresh in my mind."

"You may do so.  Please give my regards to Hador, and my congratulations on young Oriel's betrothal.  Arwen and I must give some thought to a wedding gift!"

Hiril chuckled.  "You shall have plenty of time for that!  My brother will insist on a long betrothal for his only daughter!"

"If it does not last forty years, it will not be the longest betrothal in the family!"

This made Hiril laugh heartily.  "You jest about it now, cousin, but I can recall when no one dared to jest about it to you without risk of raising your ire!"

Aragorn arched an eyebrow in amusement.  "Ah, Hiril-- there is a world of difference now, for the waiting is at an end, and the reward for patience casts a glow over all the time before."

Hiril took his leave, and after the door closed behind him, Aragorn found a goblet and a carafe of fine Dol Amroth red, and poured himself some wine.  He sat down and pondered the one subject that had been completely avoided this afternoon: the fates of Dago Bracegirdle and Clodio Banks.

He had listened to the results of Freddy's and Berilac's conversation with Dago, and to what the Banks brothers had recounted of Clodio's confessions.  He still had a difficult task ahead of him.  There was no question of a death sentence, unless he intended the Shirefolk to see him beginning his reign as a tyrant, and truly he did not believe death was warranted in this case.  He smiled though, recalling Frodo's suggestion in his letter that it would do them no harm to worry about it.  Frodo was not nearly so soft as some people thought him.

Éomer's sentences upon the younger offenders had been very skillful-- Aragorn was pleased and impressed with the justice of Rohan.  The problem here would be finding something appropriate for these particular offenders; they were older, and they were hobbits.  The sort of hard labour he would sentence Men to would not work for them, especially for Clodio Banks whose health was still precarious.  If Pippin's uncle-- however estranged-- was to drop dead of heart trouble while building a stone wall on the Rammas Echor, he would feel the guilt for the rest of his life.

Of course as hobbits they would know their way around a kitchen, but the kitchens of the Citadel were extremely busy, and his cooks and their assistants would not care to have to keep an eye out for escape attempts.  The kitchens were not as secure as some other parts of the Citadel. There were far too many deliveries and too much coming and going.

He wished Faramir were here; he trusted his Steward above any of his other advisors, save Arwen, and in matters that touched on Minas Tirith and the Citadel, even above hers-- since Faramir knew the City intimately, and would easily be able to put his finger on the task that needed doing and that a hobbit could do.  Yet he could not grudge his absence; Faramir had not seen his wife in several weeks, and with the work to be done in Ithilien, it needed the presence of its Prince at least part of the time.  He would be back soon, and bring Éowyn with him this time.

Who could he ask...of course! His Chamberlain!  Master Ondahil would know what tasks would be useful, even if he might have little idea whether a hobbit could do them.  That would fall to him, perhaps in consultation with Fredegar Bolger.

He restrained himself from instantly rushing out in search of Master Ondahil, who would be scandalized at the King coming to him.  Instead, he called for a servant and asked him to fetch the Chamberlain.

____________


As they left the Citadel, Calembel felt like a mastiff surrounded by a pack of cheerful terriers, as the hobbits encircled him, all of them talking at once it seemed, and making it difficult for him to understand what any of them were saying until one phrase cut through the rest:

"We must celebrate Mosco becoming part of your staff Master Calembel!  Is there an inn where we might all go to have an ale in honour of the occasion?"  It was Berilac Brandybuck who made the suggestion, but all the other hobbits-- save Mosco, who was too busy blushing-- joined in with a chorus of approval.

"I think it's an excellent idea," said Fredegar.  "Do you know of a good place?"

"There are a few inns in the fourth circle that might suit the purpose," Calembel chuckled.  It was still early enough in the evening that a brief stop at an inn would not make him very late in arriving home.  His wife would not be pleased if he were late for supper, but he should easily be able to have one drink and make his way home-- he lived in the fourth circle himself anyway.  "The Queen's Cat is a very good inn, and they serve a very nice brown beer." And, he thought, it is not far from home.

They made their way down through the city; Jolly made a quick detour to the guesthouse to let Tadiel and Avor know where they were going, joining the group again before they went through the tunnel to the fifth circle.  As they walked along, Calembel showed them some of the sights, pointing out the finer details of some of the buildings they passed.  Soon enough they came down to the fourth circle, and turned to the left to get to the inn Calembel had told them of.

There were a few of the inn's regulars already there for an evening, some of them playing draughts, some throwing darts, and most sitting around in amiable gossip. But there was a sudden silence when Calembel walked in surrounded by six pheriain.

All eyes were on them. The hobbits began to look apprehensive, and Calembel blinked, not quite sure what to say.

Fortunately the innkeeper recovered his wits and broke the silence.  "Cal!  What will you and your friends have?" Calembel ordered a round of beer for them, and they found a table which would accommodate all of them, though he had to pull chairs from a couple of other tables to do so.  

Three men from a nearby table got up and came over to them after the innkeeper served their beer.  "Calembel!  Will you not introduce us to your new friends?"  

Calembel smiled and stood. "Master Malvegil the tailor, and his apprentice Duinhir, and Master Girion of Dale, here are the pheriain-- the hobbits-- of the Shire's delegation to the court of the High King: Master Fredegar Bolger, Master Berilac Brandybuck, Master Mosco Burrows, Master Wilcome Cotton, Master Denham Banks and his brother Rollin."

The hobbits all stood and nodded and offered their service; the newcomers pulled chairs over, and offered to stand them all drinks.  

That was the beginning.  At some point or another, it seemed everyone else in the room wanted an introduction to the hobbits, and wanted to buy all of them drinks. Calembel began to lose track of both the number of ales and the time.  

Some of the men wanted to tell the hobbits tales of their encounters with the four heroes when they were in Minas Tirith; Master Girion told of how Gimli the Dwarf had brought Merry and Pippin to his shop to buy gifts for their families, and Master Malvegil told of measuring the four for new clothing.  Some just wanted to thank the hobbits for the part their kin had played in the War, and many simply wanted to be able to boast to their families of their meetings with the pheriain.

The hobbits all were laughing and telling their own tales; amusing childhood stories of those who were revered by the Gondorians were met with astonishment.  Soon they were singing songs of the Shire, and at one point Jolly did an impromptu jig upon the table, as the men around them clapped and joined in the chorus of the song.

"A hobbit of habit is Nob o' the Lea
a hobbit of habit is he, is he...

First breakfast he has at the rise of the sun,
Two eggs, a sausage and one sticky bun.
He stays at the table until it is done,
And then back to bed is his idea of fun.

A hobbit of habit is Nob o’ the Lea,
Oh, a hobbit of habit is he, is he!  Second breakfast, to the kitchen again,
Porridge and cream is his happy plan,
Followed by toast and strawberry jam,
An apple or pear and a wee bit of ham..."

Soon enough the room was spinning around him, and finally Calembel gave up...

"Uh-oh," said Freddy, as he saw Calembel's head hit the table with a thud.

Berilac looked at him with a surprised expression. "You would think that such big people could hold their ale better."

Mosco shook his head.  "How will we get him home?  And do any of you know how to get back to the guesthouse from here?"  





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