It was just before dawn. Light mist wreathed the fields. Odofur left footprints in the dew as he made way to the barn.
As he suspected, it was empty. The Big Folk had been gone an hour already. Whether together or acting alone, he knew not. Of the four, he would most likely see Gandalf again, as he made rounds in the Shire every now and then.
The three men were a different story. They seemed quiet, taciturn, preferring to be hidden. Yet beneath that he knew they meant no ill and in fact were seeing to the safety of the Shire as silent marshals. They would be less frequent in visits, though he and Aravir shared something in common as it pertained to rescuing hobbits.
Odofur walked back to the house, the door to the kitchen open, the smell of sugar cakes and freshly brewed tea beckoning to him. What would today bring? Less, he hoped, one excitement being enough for at least a fortnight.
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His four guests had indeed gone different ways.
Gandalf went west, taking a leisurely course towards Hobbiton, renewing a few friendships, making a few more. Aranuir had returned to the East West road, making for the western foothills of the Misty Mountains. There he would head south to the Angle. Some of the Dunedain dwelled there with their families between the Hoarwell and the Loudwater rivers, taking up farming and hunting, those who were not roaming the land. Save perhaps a last visit to Rivendell, he expected this to be a permanent return.
Aravir and Aragorn decided to return to the Baranduin, cross it as before and then make their way north along the high bluffs on the east side of the river. They would keep a respectful distance from the eaves of the Old Forest, seeking not to tempt neither tree nor Tom Bombadil to take notice of their passage.
When they reached the East-West Road they went west towards Hobbiton. They would continue to Waymeet, then turn south, skirt Tookland and take the Stock Road through the Green Hill country.
Aragorn would accompany his father, Aravir, for five more years, but less so each year and more on his own. He would become full chieftain in 2319 with the death of his father. But his reign would be brief as he would be felled by wolves in 2327, life cut short at 100. His son Araglas would become chieftain, roaming the land in the Watchful Peace much as his ancestors had.
As to hobbits, Gorhendad Oldbuck, a distant descendant of Odofur Oldbuck made the decision in 2340 to resign the Thainship and settle in the lands across the Baranduin. Work began on the great smials of Brandy Hall that year. Gorhendad then changed the family name to Brandybuck, the river to Brandywine, and became the first Master of Buckland.
Later in years the Watchful Peace would come undone. The shadow of evil would return. Their life of roaming the land would no longer be a quiet one for the Dunedain as the Third Age slowly made its way towards a final, desperate confrontation between good and evil.