Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: Scions of the Third Age (#911)
Author: Aibrean
Chapters: 13

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Archive: Tolkien
Category: Alternate Universe (AU)
Description: A coming of age tale of Elanor Gamgee and her brother Frodo. *the usual disclaimers apply! ;-)
Published: 10 May 2004
Updated: 30 Oct 2004
Warnings: None at this time
Type: General
Characters: Elanor; Frodo; Fastred; Sam; Rosie; Merry; Pippin


Chapter 1 - Chapter One

Humming blithely to herself, Elanor Gamgee delved her trowel into the rich, loamy soil. Her father, Mayor Samwise Gamgee, was a noted gardener in the Shire and the hobbit lass had eagerly learned about gardening at his knee.

Today she was planting athelas as a border in front of Bag End where she lived with her family, a legacy from the much-beloved Frodo Baggins. Most folk considered the plant a weed. Kingsfoil it was called in the Shire. But her father insisted that it had its uses, and it was pretty enough with its small white blossoms, so Elanor was happy to do as Samwise asked.

Her sunny blonde hair was tied back under a calico kerchief, but a springy tendril escaped to torment her while she worked. When she could stand it dangling before her eyes no longer, she sat back and tore off the kerchief after wiping grimy hands on her pinafore.

The cascade of curls that fell around her shoulders was like molten gold and was fair to behold. Indeed, even at such a tender age as fifteen her beauty was renowned in the Shire and some even called her Elanor the Fair.

Fair or no, she still had a great smudge of dirt along her forehead where she tried to push back her hair out of her face.

“Elli! Elli!” shouted a hobbit lad running up the hill to Bag End. “You’ll never guess who’s coming up the path!”

Elanor stood and shaded her pretty blue eyes to look out over the glen below and saw two riders on ponies. Her breath caught excitedly for she knew it could only be Meriadoc Brandybuck, the Master of Buckland and his friend Peregrine Took, the Thain.

“Frodo!” she called back to her brother and started running to meet him. “Is it really Merry and Pippin?”

“It is!” he confirmed as he stopped to catch his breath. “They sent me on ahead to tell Papa. They have news from the King!”

“Go then!” she urged him. “He’s in Master Frodo’s study writing, I think. I’ll go meet them at the gate.”

Playfully, he poked her then shouted over his shoulder as he continued up the hill, “Better wipe off that dirty great smudge first or they’ll mistake you for the scullery maid at the Green Dragon!”

“Ha, ha,” Elanor mouthed silently and made a face at his retreating back. Once she turned from him, the hobbit lass quickly rubbed her forehead and ran to the well to dampen her handkerchief in the water pail and do a better job of it.

That done, Elanor removed her dirty pinafore too and smoothing down her dress went to meet her father’s friends at the gate.

“Well, well…” hailed Merry as the pair reined in their horses. “Who is this tiny elf-witch sent to beguile us, I wonder?”

Elanor gave them a graceful curtsey with a serene, “Mae govannen,” but then spoiled the Elven effect by flashing a dimpled smile at them.

Pippin laughed heartily as he dismounted, “Elf-witch or no, our little Elanor’s got a smile bright enough to rival Eärendil, methinks.”

He stooped to give her an affectionate kiss on the cheek and she gave him a warm hug, “Oh, Uncle Pip, you say the prettiest things! I’m so glad to see you…” She then hugged his companion and added, “And you too, Uncle Merry! Did you have a nice ride? Frodo said you have news from the King? Can I ask what it’s about?”

“You’re full to bursting with questions, aren’t you, lass?” Merry kissed her other cheek. “As well you might be!” he winked at Pippin.

“What?” she asked looking first at Pippin then back to Merry. “What do you mean?”

The Master of Buckland feigned disdain as he started up the hill on foot, “Never you mind, little one. We have important business to discuss with the Mayor. I don’t suppose you know where he is to be found?”

“Oh, please, Uncle Merry? Please tell me…” she begged prettily. “I know where Papa hides the Longbottom leaf…”

“Oh! Now I know you are a little temptress!” he laughed. “Not another word, my dear. You’ll just have to wait until after we’ve spoken to your father.”

She teased them both all the way up the hill, but neither one would budge though they enjoyed her eager questions and outrageous attempts at bribery immensely.

At the door stood her father waiting to greet their guests and Elanor breathlessly announced everything young Frodo had already told him.

“Yes, yes, Elli,” he patted her shoulder in a fatherly way. “I heard. Now go help your mum in the kitchen. Your brothers and little Rosie are underfoot, Goldie’s putting up a fuss and there’s tea to be laid out for our guests…”

“Yes, Papa,” she tried not to sound glum.

Feeling a bit sorry to spoil her fun, Pippin tugged on one of her golden curls and winked frivolously, which made her giggle. She gave him a silly wink back and resigned herself to the kitchen.

In the meantime, her brother Frodo stood to one side looking a bit smug until his father added, “Off you go, Frodo. The gentlemen’s ponies need seein’ to and I think you’re just the lad to do it.”

“Yes, Papa,” he echoed his sister and meandered back down the hill to the gate once more.

Finally Samwise could greet his friends properly and with outstretched arms he drew them into Bag End. “Well, ain’t you two a sight for sore eyes?” Samwise grinned genially. “Come on in and rest a spell. The lad said somethin’ about word from His Majesty?”


Elanor strained to hear what her elders were speaking of in the next room. Tea was long over and she and all her younger siblings were sent off while the adults discussed important business. Yet, she could not help but think that their conversation was about her in some measure.

“Elli, what are you doing?” whispered Frodo in a voice loud enough to be heard in the next farthing.

“Hush, Frodo! I can’t hear…” she whispered back.

“Hey! You’re not s’posed to be eavesdroppin’.”

“Hush, I said!”

The hobbit lad gave her a disgusted look then leaned his head forward to listen too. “What have you heard?” he finally asked.

“Nothing, thanks to you,” she turned to him. “Now will you be qui… et…”

“Uh oh.”

The look on her brother’s face told Elanor they were caught and she slowly turned back to find her mother staring down at the pair of them severely.

“What are you two up to?” asked Rosie. “I thought you were given chores to do.”

“All done, Mummy. I promise!”

Her mother gave her a skeptical look, but as Elanor was not given to lying she let it pass. “What about you, little master?” she raised a slim eyebrow at Frodo.

“Um… well…” he stammered.

Rosie put a hand on her hip and lightly shoved her son towards the door, “Yes, that’s what I thought. Out you go. That firewood won’t stack itself.” Reluctantly Frodo headed for the door as she fixed Elanor with her even gaze. “And you, Mistress Nosy… You may as well come with me.”

Not sure whether she was more pleased or nervous to join her elders in the parlor, the hobbit lass trailed her mother into the room somewhat tentatively. Everyone all looked rather grim as she first entered.

“Come ‘ere, Elli,” said Samwise kindly as his expression softened towards her. “I’ve got somethin’ you should read for yourself.”

Her father extended his hand in which he held a beautiful vellum packet. Reaching for it, Elanor discovered the black wax that sealed the pages together was more than just decoration. Stamped in the middle of the inky seal was a white tree with seven stars – the Seal of Gondor. The handwriting on the packet was elegant, though manly, and clearly spelled her name across the front.

“This is for me?” she asked breathlessly. She had never gotten such a lovely thing in all her young life. “From the King?”

“From Elessar himself,” replied Pippin who was strangely solemn.

Holding her breath, Elanor carefully broke the seal and found two delicate sheets of vellum. On the first page was written:

“Dearest Elanor,
I hope I may call you so since your esteemed father has been my good and loyal friend for many a year now…”

“He calls me ‘dearest,’” she sighed dreamily.

Indulgently, the adults remained silent as she continued reading:

“I find that my court is in need of representation from the Shire and it is my fervent hope that your father will join me at Lake Evendim for as long as your mother can spare him.
When discussing this subject with the Queen, she brought to my attention that she is in need of a young maid to wait upon her and do her light errands. Would you be willing to take up this small burden, my dear? We would both be more than grateful.
I look forward to the time when I meet this little flower of the Shire in person…
With great affection and respect,
Elessar Telcontar, King of Gondor
(Uncle Strider)”

If that letter was not astonishing enough, Elanor looked to the next page to find another note with even more graceful penmanship, this time of a feminine nature. It was from the Queen:

“I greet thee, vanisiler , with joy and great anticipation of our meeting! Do not fear the strangeness or grandness of the Court of Gondor. Within the House of Telcontar you shall be as one of us and you shall never want for anything that is within our power to give. I live in hope that you will do me the honor of serving Gondor and the King in this small way.
Tenna san , Elanor…
Arwen Undómiel”

Elanor read both notes over a second time in wonder then looked to her father and then her mother. “They want me to serve the Queen,” she announced softly. “Why would they want me?”

“It is a very great honor, Elli,” said Pippin, trying to reassure her.

“Are we going then, Papa?” she asked.

Samwise cocked his head at her, “It is a summons from the King, my dear. There is no question that we are going. However, if you do not feel up to this challenge…”

“Oh, I do! I want to go, Papa!” Elanor thought it was odd that her parents smiled a little sadly. “What’s wrong?”

Briefly Samwise shook his head and Rosie answered softly, “Nothing’s wrong, sweeting. Why don’t you go check on Goldie and then help your brother finish his chores.” Her mother tried then to smile brightly and added, “We have much to do tomorrow to get you ready, Elli, so off you go!”

She gave Elanor a gentle push towards the door, but squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. The hobbit lass looked back at her mother with questions in her eyes and murmured, “Mummy?”

“It’s all right, love. Go on now…”

Slowly Elanor walked back towards the nursery to check on her little sister, but wondered why the grown-ups seemed so solemn. How was she supposed to be excited about meeting the King and Queen when everyone looked so gloomy?

Still, little butterflies seemed to be fluttering inside her and she could not help but smile and press her precious letter close to her heart. She was going on a real adventure!


-end of Chapter One-

Mae govannen - Welcome
Vanisiler - Fair sister
Tenna san -- Until then


Chapter 2 - Chapter Two

Over the next week preparations were fast and furious. Elanor’s mother was in fits over the hobbit lass’s wardrobe, declaring that her best dress was only just adequate, and that she would need at least three more new “gowns.” Enlisting several of her friends and neighbors, Rosie and the other ladies labored until nearly the very last minute to get them all sewn, embroidered, pressed and packed.

Elanor enjoyed the fuss made over her initially, but it soon wore thin. She had to remain close to the house to be available at a moment’s notice and found she had very little time to herself, which was trying to the young lass who was used to having her independence.

In fact, by week’s end Elanor rather wished her life could go back to normal, for not only was she weary of being the center of the whirlwind of activity, but she found she was a little nervous at the prospect of leaving her family for an extended period of time. Nevermind that she would be introduced to the King and Queen of Gondor!

Her mother had sent her on the morning of the departure across the bridge to Mistress Goodchild’s to pick up a bushel of apples for the road. On her way back, she noticed her brother disconsolately sitting on the railing of the bridge.

“Thinking of jumping in?” she asked, hefting the heavy bushel up onto the railing.

“Nah,” he pouted, not bothering to look up at her. “Nobody’d even notice if I did anyway…”

Elanor checked the teasing comment she was about to make when she saw a tear brim his clear blue eyes. Putting a sisterly hand on his shoulder she asked, “What’s the matter, Frodo?”

Manfully he shrugged off her hand saying, “Nothing! Who wants to go to court anyway and have to get dressed up and be good all the time?”

She sighed. She should have seen this coming. Frodo was only a little younger than she was and her brother was always jealous if Elanor received some privilege that he did not.

“If it makes you feel any better, I really do rather wish you were going along,” she said graciously. “I’m not going to know anyone and it would be a comfort to have a familiar face besides Papa’s and Uncle Merry and Pip’s.”

“It doesn’t make me feel any better.”

His voice trembled slightly, but he managed to keep his tears in check. She watched him for a long moment while he tried to remain brave and then tried another tack. “You know, Frodo,” Elanor murmured conspiratorially, “this is a big opportunity for you as well.”

“Yeah? How do you figure that?” he finally looked at her, hope briefly kindled in his suave features.

“The letter from the King said that he needed Papa for as long as Mummy could spare him,” she explained. “The baby won’t come for another four months, so he won’t be back much before Yuletide.”

“So?”

“So?!” She grinned, shaking his shoulder playfully. “So, that means you are the man of the house, dear brother! Papa is going to be counting on you to keep the household running smoothly while he’s gone, especially when Mummy grows too heavy with the new baby to do too much.”

He wanted to believe her, but was skeptical. “It just sounds like a lot more work to me,” Frodo said, cocking an eyebrow at her.

With a delicate shrug, his sister answered, “I daresay it will be, Frodo. But I promise you, if you do a good job, Papa and Mummy will be so proud of you!”

“As proud of me as they are of you, Elli?” he asked wistfully.

She handed him a shiny red apple as a peace offering. “I still have a lot to do to prove myself, Frodo. Who’s to say I will suit Her Majesty once I’m there? I’ll be one little hobbit girl among all those grand ladies…”

At her pretty frown, her brother patted her awkwardly on the shoulder, “C’mon, Elli, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll suit just fine. Everyone loves you!”

“Are you mad at me that I was asked to go?”

“Nah…” he answered. “I guess not.”

Vaguely they heard their mother’s voice on the breeze calling to them. They looked up the hill together to see Rosie standing in the lower garden waving.

“Looks like it’s almost time…” she sighed somewhat tremulously.

Though he was the younger child, Frodo did rather feel protective of his sister on occasion. He had even been known to stick up for her from time to time. He realized now that she was nervous and took it upon himself to ease her anxiety.

“Here,” he reached for the apples as he leaped onto the bridge, “I’ll take those for you.”

Rosie watched her children coming up the hill with misty eyes, for they seemed both children and adult hobbits in the same moment. Elanor walked tall and graceful next to her younger brother who manfully negotiated the bushel under one arm. Yet, her daughter had shyly slipped her hand in Frodo’s as they crossed the bridge and the pair swung them absently as they approached Bag End. Why did they have to grow up so fast?


Elanor thought the leave-taking would never end. Half the farthing turned out to see them off and her father as Mayor felt it necessary to talk with as many as stopped him for a word. Samwise assured each and every one that he would take their comments to the King and wished them well as he finally mounted the wagon procured for him to ride with his young daughter to Lake Evendim.

Merry and Pippin watched the whole proceedings indulgently from atop their ponies, remembering similar experiences with their own people in Buckland and the North-kingdom. They did not expect to be on their way much before midday.

Finally, however, Samwise sat down in the front of the wagon and took up the reins in preparation to depart.

“Come on, my lass,” he told Elanor. “We’d best be goin’ now. Give your mum a kiss and let’s be off.”

Rosie could not completely hold back the tears she tried to hide from her daughter, and quickly hugged her tightly before wiping her eyes with the hem of her apron. “Be good now, Elli,” she swallowed hard. “We’ll see you in a few months.”

“G’bye, Mummy,” she replied. “Don’t be sad. I’ll be all right with Papa and Uncle Pip and Uncle Merry. They’re the bravest hobbits in the Shire!”

Her mother smiled and laughed through her tears, “Indeed they are, child. Very well then. Off you go…”

As Elanor started to reach for her father’s hand to climb up into the wagon, Frodo ran up breathlessly and announce, “Wait! Elli, wait…” She paused expectantly and her brother pressed a small object into her hand. “For luck…” he panted.

Looking into her hand, what she found surprised her greatly, “But, Frodo… this is your lucky orc arrowhead!” Whether it was an actual arrowhead from an orc weapon was debatable, but the hobbit lad refused to believe his talisman was anything else but the real thing.

“It’s all right,” he replied bravely. “You’re going to need it worse than me. You take it for now, Elli.”

“Thank you, Frodo!” she said breathlessly and threw her arms around her younger brother exuberantly. “I promise I’ll take good care of it!”

For a moment Elanor was certain that Frodo returned her hug fervently, but just as quickly he stepped back self-consciously and complained, “Ah, Elli, stop will you?”

She laughed at him and perversely kissed his cheek with a loud smack. “Bye, little brother. See you soon, but not too soon!”

Frodo hastily scrubbed his sister’s kiss away with the heel of his hand as all the adults around him watched with benevolent smiles and his mates sniggered not-so-subtly behind his back. “Good riddance!” he grumbled and his mother smacked him lightly on the back of the head.

Merrily, she laughed at her brother as she finally climbed up into the wagon. They had teased each other far too much for her to take his disdain personally. In her heart she knew Frodo really was sorry to see her go and she made up her mind to try to find something special to bring him back in payment for lending her the arrowhead.
Just as the sun hit its zenith in the bright blue sky, Elanor Gamgee left Hobbiton for the biggest adventure of her young life.

-end of Chapter Two-


Chapter 3 - Chapter Three

“Papa, how much farther do we have to go?” the hobbit lass asked Samwise one afternoon as their journey was nearing its end.

Elanor had been good not to ask the question too often along the way as her mother prepared her for the lengthy time she should expect to travel in the wagon. The trip, fortunately, had also had several diversions along the way.

They stopped first for a few days at Brandy Hall where she was spoiled shamelessly by Meriadoc’s wife Estella and then they went on to Bree and the Prancing Pony where her father and his friends reminisced freely about the times they visited during the War of the Ring. It was here that they spoke most often of Frodo Baggins, telling stories of his courage and sacrifice, and Elanor sighed dreamily wishing she remembered her brave Uncle Frodo better from before he left for the Undying Lands.

After spending the night in Bree, for Samwise did not think the crossroads was the most wholesome town to linger in for his young daughter, they quickly moved on stopping only briefly each night on the road. Elanor had certainly camped outside before, but nowhere farther from home than under the new party tree. At first spending the night under the stars in the far North seemed romantic and she imagined the King himself had camped in the very same spots as they did when he was still known as Strider. However, rain set in for the next several days and the poor lass began to feel cold, damp and generally miserable as she bumped along next to her father in the wagon.

She could not help but wish their trip now soon over.

“Not too much longer, my girl,” Samwise tried to sound cheerful as the rain dripped annoyingly down his back. “We should be in Fornost by nightfall and we’ll stay there until this rain passes.”

“Fornost?” she asked. “I thought it was deserted…”

“For a time it was,” piped up Peregrine who was riding his pony close to the wagon. “Now that the King is re-establishing a capital in Arnor there have been some hardy folk who have volunteered to repopulate the area. In fact, I know of a delightful inn run by a generous soul of a woman who moved from near Rivendell. No one much travels that way since the Elves are gone, so she was glad to move to a more profitable location.”

“A delightful inn indeed,” agreed Meriadoc. “I know it well! We’ll be there in time for tea, lass, and I guarantee you’ll get as much petting and spoiling from the proprietress and her guests as you’d want.”

“Well, that sounds promising,” Elanor thought to herself and brightened considerably in anticipation.

As promised, the town of Fornost was reached before dark set in, though the rain increased in intensity as they rode down the main street. By the time Samwise drew the wagon up to the inn, they were all thoroughly drenched.

A stately woman greeted them at the door with a ready smile and a blithe, “Good e’en, my lords!” As soon as she saw Elanor looking rather wilted and damp sitting next to her father she exclaimed, “Oh, poor lamb! You must be chilled. Bring her in directly, sir, and we’ll get the lass into a warm bath. What’s your name, little one?” She bustled her into the inn.

“Elanor, ma’am,” she answered trying not to let her teeth chatter.

“Well, Elanor,” cooed the woman, “you just let Queenie take care of you…”

With that the hobbit lass was quickly whisked upstairs to a large suite of rooms, which included a bathing chamber. Water was already being heated on the fire and a serving woman was laying out linens for her and her father for later.

“Queenie, you’re wanted downstairs,” said a soft, mellow voice at the door. “Something about the rum being gone?”

“What’s the rascal up to now?” the grand lady shook her head and hastened towards the door. “I swear that pirate is hoarding it for himself. I’ll have to go have a word with him… Lina, do you mind helping Mistress Gamgee with her bath?”

“Not at all,” the woman stepped into the room. Slight and dark haired, Lady Estelina was as graceful as a bird. “I’ve brought something with me that I thought she might like to try.”

“Wonderful idea,” agreed Queenie. “Very thoughtful, my lady. Well, lass, I must leave you in Lady Estelina’s capable hands. When you’re all through here, there will be something tasty for you to eat in the next room, but take your time. I know you’ve been on the road quite a while.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Elanor bobbed a curtsey. “You’re very kind.”

With a warm smile, the proprietress took her leave to deal with her reprobate barkeep and the rum issue while Estelina crossed the room to check Elanor’s bath water.

“Ah, the water is perfect, my dear. Are you ready to get in?”

Elanor was a little shy before such an elegant lady and she ducked her head as she replied, “I’m sorry to be such a bother, my lady.”

“It’s no bother at all, sweeting. Come…” she held out a hand to her. “I’ve got something lovely for you to smell…”

Intrigued by the pretty bottle Estelina drew out for her to see, the little halfling approached to examine it. The contents were a bright shade of green, like new leaves dancing in the sunlight. Then when the lady unstoppered the phial for Elanor to smell, she breathed in the aroma of woods, fresh and light like a spring day with just a hint of a headier summer to come.

“It smells like magic,” she murmured delightedly.

Estelina chuckled at the lass’s enthusiasm. “You like it then?” Elanor nodded eagerly and the lady added, “It’s called elf-bath,” and poured in a measure of it with the next pail of warm water.

Her eyes grew wide as she breathed, “From real elves? Have you met any yourself?”

“Several actually,” Estelina answered with a tolerant smile. “I daresay you will meet a few yourself once you arrive at Evendim.”

“Do you really think so?” she brightened.

“I think I can safely say, you may count on it. Now in you go. You don’t want the water to get cold.”

Gratefully Elanor sank into the warm tub with an appreciative sigh. Baths at home were not terribly appealing as they tended to be a rushed affair. As she luxuriated in the big tub of sudsy water, she would never look at bath time in the same way.


An hour later the lass was sitting down at a small table in the parlor that joined her room with her father’s. Queenie had sent up a hot meal of meat pies, wholesome vegetables and a sticky honey cake for dessert. A pitcher of freshly pressed apple cider accompanied the meal and Elanor heard her stomach growl at the lovely aromas from the food.

Lady Estelina had been called back downstairs and Elanor assured the woman that she would be fine on her own. Leaving the door open for the hobbit girl to call if anything was needed, she headed back to the main floor while Elanor hungrily dove into her meal.

Completely focused on the food it was some minutes before she felt something softly tapping her foot under the table. When she looked down, there was a little black and tan body sitting patiently by her chair gazing up at her with intelligent brown eyes.

“Hello, puppy!” Elanor exclaimed with delight. “Where did you come from?”

The little dog wagged her tail mightily and then stood up on her hind legs to beg a bite of the lass’s dinner.

“Are you hungry? Here you go…” she offered the animal a generous bite of one of her meat pies, which was eagerly accepted and eaten before it was barely chewed.

Elanor then heard quick steps in the corridor outside her room and she looked up to see another woman skid to a halt at the door. She was of average height with heavy reddish-brown hair tucked carelessly behind her ears. Not as slight as the Lady Estelina, she still had a bearing that spoke of a similar discipline. The girl began to wonder a little at so many seemingly independent women in one place.

“Ah, there you are, you little beggar!” the woman admonished the puppy. “I should’ve known you would find food if there was any to be had, Nildë!”

Nildë gave her mistress a saucy bark and the auburn-haired woman put a hand on her hip with a tolerant frown. Before she could speak again, a man came up behind her and said, “Did you find her then?”

He was not much taller than the woman, but he too carried himself with purpose and confidence. His hair seemed to be chestnut, though, it was difficult to tell for certain in the dim corridor where he stood. The one thing Elanor did notice about him was his bright blue eyes twinkling in the dark.

Looking back at the man over her shoulder with intimate familiarity, the woman answered, “Aye… pestering this poor lass when she’s trying to eat. I’m sorry, sweeting. I’ll just corral this little nuisance and let you get back to your tea…”

“Oh, please! You don’t have to… I mean… I don’t mind. I’ll even keep an eye on her if you’ve got something else to do,” stammered Elanor.

The woman raised a slim eyebrow and asked, “Are you sure, my dear? She’s quite a handful.”

“Please? Papa’s not going to let me go downstairs now that it’s evening. Looks like Nildë and I are stuck up here for the night. We might as well keep each other company…”

“She has a point, melethnín,” the man agreed with an impertinent smirk. “I could think of a few things we need to take care of…”

“I just bet you could,” the woman chuckled. The sound was earthy and low and Elanor thought it was one of the loveliest laughs she had ever heard. Were all the Human women as amazing as the ones she had met so far? Elanor hoped she would have an opportunity in the morning to find out!

As if to settle the matter, Nildë sat down at the little halfling’s feet to gaze steadily back at her mistress as if to say, “You two do what you want. I’m going to stay here where the food is!”

“Well, it seems the little defector has made her choice,” the woman sighed. “She’s welcome to stay with you, lass, as long as you’re sure you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all!” replied Elanor.

“Now, if she gives you any trouble, you come find one of us. I’m Aibreán and this is Tanner.”

“Please to meet you both,” the lass bobbed a quick curtsey. “I’m Elli Gamgee.”

The pair smiled broadly and Tanner said, “Well met, Mistress Elli.”

His eyes seemed to get more intensely blue as he smiled, while Aibreán’s crinkled up into curvy slits. Elanor would have to wait for daylight to determine their color.

Tanner then grabbed Aibreán’s hand and silently urged her to follow while she waved a little wistfully back at the hobbit girl and the puppy.

Elanor returned the wave and Nildë ran to the door to sit on the sill and watch her mistress being coaxed down the corridor. As soon as the couple disappeared into the night, the small dog ran back into the room and joyfully started chasing her tail.

Giggling at the puppy’s antics, Elanor sat on the floor after grabbing one of her hair ribbons to play tug-o-war with her. She was glad to have a diversion while the adults mingled with the patrons below in the main hall. Absently, the lass wondered if there would be anyone her age at the palace.


Some time later Samwise made his way sleepily up the stairs. Tanner, the ranger from the North, accompanied him thinking to collect the friendly little dog. Yet, when they reached the hobbit mayor’s chambers the gentlemen found both Elanor and Nildë sound asleep on the bed. The girl had dropped exhausted on top of the coverlet while the puppy curled up in the small of her back for warmth.

“Don’t they look peaceful lyin’ there,” sighed Samwise. Truth be told he was more than a little nervous that his little girl was going out into the big wide world for the first time. Sprawled on the bed with her golden hair trailing across the pillow, Elanor looked to her father like the delicate golden flower for which she was named.

“Just like two innocent younglings, but woe to us when they wake, eh?” the ranger chuckled. “I should take the little imp back to my lady…”

“Let her stay, my lord,” suggested Samwise. “They’re both asleep. It’d be a shame to disturb them. I’ll bring the puppy to Lady Aibreán in the morning.”

Tanner grinned rakishly, “I’ll probably get chewed out by Aubri, but I have to tell you I won’t be sorry to have the bed to ourselves again for a night!”

Returning the grin knowingly, Samwise spread another blanket over his daughter and the little interloper, “You go to your lady then, Tanner. I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to her…”

“Indeed I will, Master Gamgee!” he gave the hobbit a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Sleep well!”

Samwise responded in kind and the good-natured ranger sauntered off to find the Lady Aibreán in a very cheerful mood.

-end of Chapter Three-

*Queenie, Estelina & Aibreán (yes, I know...) are all Shieldmaidens brought together by a mutual need to break our "cages" as Éowyn speaks of in TTT. You will see more Shieldmaidens and hear more about our committment to one another in a further chapter.


Chapter 4 - Chapter Four

Elanor woke the next morning to the sound of a raging thunderstorm outside the inn. Sighing dispiritedly, she lay there for sometime trying to figure out how she was going to pass the time cooped up in the lodging filled solely with adults.

Belatedly she remembered Nildë and looked to see if the puppy was under the covers, but the little dog was gone. Again, she sighed loudly and was greeted with the blithe voice of her father.

“Now what’s all that groaning about in there?” he asked as he popped his head through the adjoining doorway. "You sound as if you had the weight of the world upon your shoulders!”

Sitting up, Elanor tried to smile, “Good morning, Papa. I’m sorry to complain, but I heard the rain outside and don’t know what I’m going to do for fun here.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find plenty to do once you go downstairs, lass. Get up and get dressed and I’ll take you to get some breakfast.”

Suddenly the pretty halfling heard her stomach growl and quickly hopped out of bed to get her day started. Again, she remembered about the puppy and asked her father, “What happened to Nildë? Did Lady Aibreán come get her?”

“I took the puppy to go out this morning and returned her then to her mistress. Don’t forget, my girl, that the animal belongs to someone else…”

“I won’t, Papa,” she answered. “It was very nice of the lady to let me play with her dog. I can tell she’s very fond of Nildë. Do you think they’re downstairs still?”

“Perhaps,” he replied. “But we won’t know until you get dressed, sleepyhead. Now let’s go!”


Half an hour later, Elanor was escorted downstairs by her father to enter the common room of the inn where breakfast was being served. Conversation was animated though perhaps a trifle muted owing to the early hour.

The hobbit lass quickly found Meriadoc and Peregrine across the room in jolly discourse with a smallish woman whose hair shined with bright coppery glints and a willowy dark-haired one as well. Samwise headed in that direction as his friends waved them over and Elanor then noticed Aibreán at another table with a much taller woman with dark brown hair and brown eyes to match. Tanner was also present, standing next to their table in close conversation with a sandy haired man whose gaze often darted down at the trim woman beside him.

Nildë bounded over to greet Elanor with a friendly bark, but immediately returned to her mistress after receiving the halfling’s pat on the head, the lure of Aibreán’s half-eaten breakfast too great to pass up. Both Aibreán and Tanner gave them a friendly wave then went back to their conversations when Samwise propelled Elanor on to the other table.

“Good morning, Elli!” greeted Peregrine affably. “Hop on up here next to me and we’ll get Tisbé to come take your order.”

Before the hobbit gentleman’s words were out of his mouth, an energetic woman bobbed out to their table with two cups of a fresh, fruity beverage for her and her father.

“Well, there you are, sweeting!” Lady Tisbé greeted her. “The place has been a-buzz all morning, waiting to meet you!” The lady had bright, sunny hair to match her ready smile.

Elanor blushed, but managed to say, “Thank you, ma’am! I’m eager to meet you all too…”

“How hungry are you this morning, my dear? My cook can fix anything your heart desires.”

Unsure about how to answer, she looked to her father who nodded encouragingly. Then Meriadoc leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry, Elli. They serve second breakfast here if you don’t get enough to eat. Queenie knows her patrons quite well!”

A little more settled after that, Elanor placed her order with the lively woman who just as quickly disappeared back into the kitchen as she had arrived at the table.

As they waited for the food, Samwise’s friends introduced their companions, Tarfalathwen who had the shiny reddish hair and the darker lady named Megawen. Both women chatted animatedly and spent the time filling the group in on the different members of their company.

The hobbit lass discovered that Aibreán and Tanner were rangers from Ithilien, as was the couple with them. The woman, Saelind, was a healer and the man was Padraig. He was fairly new to their fellowship, so they did not know much about him themselves as yet. Although Elanor would swear as the two women giggled quietly, one mentioned something about “knees.” Samwise quickly changed the subject before his daughter got too curious.

Across the chamber the girl noticed two women with their heads close together over a table in the corner booth, one smooth and golden, the other curly and black. The dusky one had a quill and was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment while the fairer one was reading over a different sheet and making muted comments from time to time.

“Who are those ladies over there?” she asked curiously.

Megawen glanced over where Elanor was looking and answered, “Oh, that’s Novedhelion and Riyallyn. They’re working on the tale of King Éomer and Queen Lothíriel. If you want to know anything about Rohan and its people, those are the two to ask.”

“Have you met them, Uncle Merry?” the girl asked the Holdwine of the Shire.

“Indeed I have, lass,” he replied. “Once you’ve eaten your meal I’ll take you over there and introduce you. It would be good for you to get a little history lesson from them before you meet Éomer and Lothíriel in Evendim.”

Elanor was not sure she liked the sound of “history lesson,” but as Meriadoc was prone to teasing she decided to reserve judgment until after she met the two Rohirrim women.

There were several other women roaming the common room as well and Tarfalathwen explained that they were all loyal friends and called themselves the Shieldmaidens of Rohan.

Most had been raised among the horse people, but as the Reunited Kingdoms settled into a new order some of the women migrated to other parts of Middle-earth. Aibreán and Saelind went to Ithilien with Éowyn while Queenie and her closest friends answered to Gondor and the North Kingdom. Regardless of their new homes, all the sisters of the fellowship followed the same code and worked only for the mutual good of all Free Peoples.

Looking at all the women in the hall with renewed respect, Elanor quietly reflected how wonderful it must be to have such a strong purpose in life and to feel confident in pursuing it. Thoughts of the Shieldmaidens stayed with her throughout her whole life.


As the storm threatened to pummel Fornost throughout the rest of the day, Meriadoc renewed his offer of introducing Elanor to the two bards of Rohan. With nothing else to occupy her time, the hobbit lass felt she may as well learn about the King and Queen of the Mark.

She was never so glad to listen to a history lesson in her entire life!

Both women were eager to share the story of their handsome and virile king and his spirited beauty of a wife. Novedhelion did most of the telling, her dark curls bobbing excitedly during the particularly thrilling portions of the tale. The tall blonde watched her friend with tolerant affection for her enthusiasm, making a quiet dry remark here and there to fill in the rousing account.

Listening with rapt attention, Elanor heard the romantic description of the meeting of the princess from Dol Amroth and the new Rohirrim king. From her flight from an unwanted betrothed to traveling with Éomer’s Rohirrim band to a battle with orcs and other harrowing incidents during the War of the Ring to the duplicity and eventual exposure of her treacherous fiancé’s misdeeds, the hobbit lass waited with breathless anticipation for the next exciting adventure. By the time Novedhelion and Riyallyn told of the pair’s impassioned handfasting on a wind-swept beach in the South, Elanor was craving to hear more.

Ready to oblige, the eager bard suddenly realized that the further domestic adventures of the Rohirrim royals might still be a little too much of a grown-up tale for the youngling before her.

“So they rode off into the sunset together and live happily in the Golden Hall of Meduseld,” Novedhelion ended lamely.

Elanor was not to be so easily put off, “Why do I have a feeling, my lady, that you’ve left the best part out?”

Riyallyn laughed at her friend, “Hard to put one over on this one!”

“Please tell me…” asked the halfling girl.

Meriadoc cleared his throat and stepped in, “Elli, I think we’ve taken up enough of the obliging ladies’ time for now.”

Disappointed, the lass asked him, “Will you tell me the rest of the tale, Uncle Merry?”

Brief disconcertion crossed the Holdwine’s face. His own children were still quite young and it would be some years before he had to explain such adult ideas as marriage and childbearing. “Perhaps later,” he evaded and then thought to himself, “Much later…”


-end of Chapter Four-


Chapter 5 - Chapter Five

While Elanor was busily occupied in wheedling her elders another small company of hobbits arrived at the tavern. Folcred of Greenholm and his two brothers had heard the Mayor of the Shire was traveling in the area to visit the King and hoped to be able to meet with the important hobbit regarding some concerns.

Along with him Folcred had brought his eldest son Fastred, a young hobbit of fifteen or so years. The lad had begged to be allowed to go on the short journey and his father could find no reason not to bring him along. Fastred, however, had been threatened with dire punishment if he so much as thought about stepping a toe over the line, so the usually sunny-tempered halfling wore a solemn expression as he followed Folcred and his uncles into the common room.

Upon asking after Master Gamgee, Folcred and his party were eagerly ushered to the mayor’s table and introductions were quickly performed. The hobbit lad got to shake the hand of not only the mayor, but also the Thain and the Master of Buckland, who had just rejoined his friends.

Once he was acknowledged Fastred was just as quickly forgotten beneath the weightier matters under discussion between the adults. Feeling he could not get into too much trouble with his father still in the room, the youngster curiously roamed amid the long polished wood tables.

“Well, young sir,” he was startled to hear. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

The speaker was a young woman with a veil of long ebony hair and big dark eyes to match. Her smile, though, was bright and friendly as she gazed down at him expectantly.

“Ma’am?” he asked uncertainly.

“This is a tavern, Master…?” she raised an eyebrow, inviting his name.

“Fastred, ma’am,” he readily supplied it.

“Master Fastred,” she nodded. “I am Arwensrose and the barmistress here at Queenie’s. I doubt your father would appreciate me serving you a pint, but I can certainly brew a pot of tea if you’re looking for something to warm your insides after getting drenched in that rain out there.”

Suddenly the thought of some hot tea sounded very appealing indeed, as his head was feeling a little stuffy now. “Thank you, ma’am. Tea would be very nice.”

Laughing tolerantly at his meek politeness, Arwensrose gestured him to follow her to the front counter where she offered him a tall stool.

Fastred scrambled nimbly up onto the high perch and waited patiently for his tea. The barmistress put the kettle on to boil and then was busily occupied with other requests while the water heated. Left to his own devices once again, the lad scanned the large chamber for anything interesting going on and then he saw her…

“Dragon’s Spit!” he exclaimed quietly. “Is that a real elfgirl?”

Across the room was the loveliest girl Fastred had ever seen. Up until that moment he thought girls mostly a nuisance, but this one was different. Pretty golden hair gleamed like the sun even in the gloomy, storm-darkened chamber and bright blue eyes sparkled merrily from under long feathery lashes. Her rosy lips were drawn back in a mirthful smile as she teased a small black dog with a bit of ribbon; and while she was small, her appearance promised a graceful slenderness to come as she danced back and forth playing with the excited puppy.

Fastred watched her with fascination a few moments until a voice replied, “An elfgirl? No, sweeting. She’s a hobbit just like yourself.”

Turning to the voice, the lad met the calm studious gaze of yet another woman. Lady Sofia, he soon found out from her. Suddenly he realized that the tavern was filled with women, but there were very few men. Fastred pushed that curious revelation to the side for the moment, as he was also surprised that the girl with the puppy was a hobbit.

“She doesn’t look like any hobbit girl I’ve ever met,” he replied. “I wonder who she is…”

“Her name is Elanor and she is the mayor’s daughter,” Sofia supplied. Her voice was soft with an unfamiliar accent that spoke to Fastred of foreign climes. There were several maps and journals spread before her and she looked as if she might be planning a journey.

That was enough to pique the lad’s interest and he asked her about the maps, which Sofia eagerly displayed for him. However, Elanor was never far from his thoughts and Fastred looked up as much as he dared to see what she was doing.

The hobbit youngster wondered what she was doing so far from home…


Fastred was just screwing up his courage to go talk to Elanor when his father corralled him to send him upstairs to wash up for tea.

“And mind you, put on your best shirt and vest, lad,” Folcred instructed. “Master Gamgee has invited us to join him and his friends.”

“What about his daughter?” Fastred let slip before he realized it.

“Eh?” the hobbit was puzzled by his question. His son did not have much use for girls yet, he thought. “Yes, yes… I suppose she will be there. You’ll just have to endure her presence, Fastred. So mind your manners too.”

“Yes, sir,” he answered meekly, wondering if he was more glad or anxious that the girl would be joining them.


Elanor was delighted that she was going to be allowed to have her tea downstairs with the adults. Peregrine had told her that the ladies would be performing a special ceremony and they were privileged to be invited to watch.

She quickly washed up and put on a fresh pinafore after brushing her golden hair until it shone brightly. As she tied up her curly locks with a pretty blue ribbon, Elanor studied her reflection in the mirror over the wash basin.

After spending the day downstairs with all the beautiful and strong Shieldmaidens, the hobbit lass felt rather insignificant and childish. They all had such important things to do and seemingly had no fear of doing them. And she was nervous about doing little errands for the Queen!

Inspired by the brave group of women gathering in the common room below, Elanor took a deep breath and steeled her courage. She would be worthy of serving Queen Arwen regardless of the seemingly menial charge of being at the great lady’s beck and call. Perhaps then she would one day be worthy of joining the fellowship of the Shieldmaidens.

Downstairs once again, Samwise introduced Elanor to Folcred of Greenholm and his brothers and young son Fastred. The lad gave her a goofily awkward grin, which she found rather endearing.

“Pleased to meet you, Master Fastred,” Elanor curtsied prettily with a dimpled smile for him.

Fastred blushed up to the roots of his sandy head and swept his hazel-green eyes to the floor in embarrassment. “And you, Mistress…” he managed to squeak. When had his voice started to change?

He glanced up at her to see a bemused expression reflected in her bright eyes, but any further discourse between them was suspended as the mayor escorted his daughter to the other end of the table while Folcred steered the lad to a stool down the expanse of polished wood. Perhaps it was better that way, Fastred thought to himself. He had no idea what he would say to the pretty hobbit girl anyway.

Thoughts of any possible conversation were moot in any case as the Shieldmaidens began their solemn ceremony.

As Queenie thoughtfully lit a squat pillared candle on a front table, excited whispers could be heard from the collected women. A couple had entered hastily and was greeted with muted exclamations, hugs and handshakes. The woman, flame-haired with a glowing complexion, was an obvious favorite among the others and her companion, dark and handsome, greeted Tanner and Padraig with hearty arm grips.

“Who are they, Uncle Pip?” she whispered.

Leaning down, Peregrine whispered back, “That’s Gliowien and Mac. They’ve just returned from an important errand for Queenie. No one was certain they would be back in time for the ceremony tonight. They must’ve ridden hard…”

Loudly clearing her voice, the proprietress recalled the room to order.

“Mae govannen, sisters all,” she spoke. “You have been gathered here to answer the call of this Sisterhood. The Shieldmaidens call for aid. Who will answer?”

From the larger candle, the regal woman lit a small candle proclaiming, “Queenie will answer.”

She then offered her candle to the next woman who similarly called out, “Wiz will answer.”

One by one each of the women lit her candle and answered the call. Some of the names were now familiar to Elanor: Estelina, Novedhelion, Riyallyn, Sofia, Aibreán, Saelind, Arwensrose and Tisbé. Yet there were many new names to go with the sea of new faces: Gliowien, Kally, Beccaie, Elfhoster, Bella, Tosaanne, Laurelindë, Eve, Amygaladriel, Joielinne, Miradan and Leda, plus the two Ladies, Dunádan and Rohan.

After the roster of current members of the fellowship had responded, several novice members were inducted into the group: Tallaan, Kementári, Llweyn and Niennanor. They in turn lit their own small candles and answered the summons and then were welcomed by the other Shieldmaidens with a round of applause.

“What do you think of our little group?” asked a soft voice in Elanor’s ear.

“I think it’s wonderful,” she breathed appreciatively and turned to find a woman in ranger’s garb sitting on a stool next to her. She had never even heard her slip in beside her. “Why are you not up there?”

“I just arrived and didn’t want to interrupt the proceedings. Don’t worry, little one. You’ll see my part in a little bit…”

The woman then gestured for the lass to return her attention to the front as Queenie continued, “Finally, this last beacon…” she lit one last candle, “we light to remind us of those of our sisters who could not join us. We will hope to see them in future days to come. Until then we will hold them in our hearts.” There was a brief silence then the proprietress said, “You have been called. And you have answered. So Daughters of Kings, Shieldmaidens of Rohan, I would ask you now, my ladies, ‘What do you fear?’”

The room resounded solemnly answering, “’A cage. To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them and all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire.’”

Queenie responded, “You have all looked into your hearts and identified your individual cages. It is a struggle that has been joined with a vengeance and one that we will continue to face with courage and determination. There will be times that the struggle will overcome us and in that moment our Sisters will be there to support and comfort us. The struggle will not prevail, for there is still Hope. Let us recommit to one another now by reciting the Shieldmaiden Sisterhood Code…”

Again the ladies answered as one, “No sister is left behind. Every sister is a special wonderful individual, and as such must be treated with the utmost respect by all other sisters. A sister in trouble or need will always find a helping hand. The Sisterhood will not fail. Not if we hold true to each other.”

After the formal part of the ceremony several of the Shieldmaidens made their way to the front to perform a short concert. Elanor was interested to see that they were women she had already met, as Saelind, Novedhelion, Aibreán and the lady recently sitting beside her gathered to sing. She was a little surprised that the lady was so petite as the force of her personality was strong even sitting in silence. The little halfling heard Aibreán greet her as Serena with a brief but fervent embrace.

The four women took turns singing different songs, but the one piece that moved Elanor was one they all sang together:

"Lay down your sweet and weary head
Night is falling, you have come to journey’s end
Sleep now and dream of the ones who came before
They are calling from across a distant shore

Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see
All of your fears will pass away
Safe in my arms
You’re only sleeping.

What can you see on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the Sea a pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home
And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water
All souls pass

Hope fades into the world of night
Through shadows falling out of memory and time
Don’t say we have come now to the end
White shores are calling
You and I will meet again

And you’ll be here safe in my arms
Just sleeping

What can you see on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the Sea a pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home
And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water
Grey ships pass
Into the West "*

Something about the words reminded the hobbit lass of the long-departed Frodo Baggins. She was so little when Frodo left for the Undying Lands, but her father and mother took great pains to help her remember the brave hobbit who was Samwise’s best friend. They had told her that “Uncle” Frodo had given her the name “Elanor” and she often sat on her father’s lap looking at the leather-bound book he left with his friend. She felt a little melancholy when the song was over and rather wanted to look at the book, which she knew her father carried with him always.

Sitting there quietly for a little longer, as Lady Serena began performing an intricate dance that was fascinating, Elanor finally excused herself to go upstairs to their rooms.

Her departure did not go unnoticed by young Fastred.


-end of Chapter Five-

*Into the West by Howard Shore, Annie Lennox & Fran Walsh


Chapter 6 - Chapter Six

Back in her room Elanor sat down in the middle of the floor with Frodo’s great book in her lap. Her father had promised she would inherit the well-loved leather tome someday, and the lass tenderly turned the pages to revisit the epic saga of the War of the Ring. Knowing the tale by heart, she had no need of reading every word and turned eagerly to her favorite parts while skipping the scary or distasteful sections.

Banished to the upper level of the inn to keep from disturbing the proceedings below, Nildë wandered through the open door and plopped down next to Elanor to curl up against her leg and gnaw placidly at a dried piece of rawhide.

Elanor took comfort in the warm body of the puppy as the rain clung to the air even in the dry, snug inn. Wrapping up in her cloak she became engrossed and did not know anyone had ventured upstairs until she head a mighty sneeze just outside her chamber.

Nildë barked in surprise and Elanor’s head shot up to discover Fastred wiping his nose miserably with a large, blue handkerchief.

“Bless you,” she said automatically and then wiped away a few tell-tale tears, as she had just gotten to the part in the book where Frodo decided he must leave Middle-earth for the Undying Lands.

Forgetting his stuffy nose upon seeing Elanor’s blue eyes brimming with tears, he asked, “Are you all right, Mistress? Why are you so sad?”

Again she wiped her cheeks and then replied, “I was just reading something…”

Fastred took a few hesitant steps towards the door, but remained beyond it. Bashfully, he commented, “You seemed sad downstairs too.”

Elanor blushed and smiled fleetingly as she ducked her head. Even with tear tracks down her face, Fastred thought she was the most charming girl he had ever seen. Funny that two days ago the idea of talking to a hobbit lass held no interest for him whatsoever!

“The song the ladies sang reminded me of my Uncle Frodo,” she answered softly. “I don’t remember him very clearly, so I decided to come read about him again.”

“Frodo?” Fastred’s eyes widened, sparkling darkly in the shadows of the hallway. “Frodo Baggins? He’s your uncle?”

“Well, not by blood,” she admitted, “but I have always called him so. He was good friends with my father and he even gave me my name, Elanor.”

“It suits you,” he said boldly, then shifted his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly in embarrassment.

Feeling his regard for her, she lightly patted a spot next to her and graciously offered, “Would you like to see Frodo’s book?”

Eager to see the treasured volume, he was still somewhat uncertain about entering the room and asked, “Are you sure it’s all right?”

“C’mon,” she beckoned him. “We won’t get into trouble.”

As he stepped over the threshold, Nildë stretched out over Elanor’s ankles and eyed the boy shrewdly when he sat down next to the girl.

Fastred eyed the puppy warily in return, but then Elanor spread half the large book on his lap and the trio settled in while the youngsters turned the beautifully written pages and Elanor pointed out her favorite parts.

Eventually the hobbit lass noticed her new friend drew out his handkerchief more and more often and then finally another huge sneeze set his eyes to watering.

“Here I’ve been going on about me when you look like you feel miserable. Can I do anything for you?”

“I think I’ve caught a cold out in the rain today,” he admitted, too sick now to try to hide it. “I felt fine when we got here, but…”

Seeing her mother do it a thousand times, the hobbit girl put the back of her hand to Fastred’s forehead with expert practicality. “Fastred, you’re burning up! Why didn’t you say anything?” she exclaimed.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I feel cold,” he answered woozily with a sudden shiver.

“That does it!” Elanor threw her cloak around his shoulders. “You need to be in bed. I’ll help you to your room and then go for your father.”

He tried to protest, but Elanor got him to his feet and steered him down the hall. Meekly Fastred allowed her to take charge, but said at the door of his room, “You don’t need to bother my father, Mistress. I’ll be fine in the morning…”

“My name is Elli,” she replied shortly. “Get into bed, Fastred. I’m going to look for your father anyway.”

She left him staring blearily after her and hoped he would take her advice.


Once downstairs, Elanor found that all the gentlemen had left the main room, as well as many of the women, but she saw Aibreán and her friend Saelind standing at the bar talking to the women she now knew as Kally and Gliowien.

“I beg your pardon, Lady Aibreán…” she spoke softly when there was a lull in the conversation.

Aibreán turned to her with surprise, though she answered readily, “No pardon needed, little one. What can I do for you? Nildë isn’t acting up, is she?”

“No, ma’am,” Elanor answered. “I was hoping I might be able to speak with your friend, Lady Saelind.”

“Of course, Elli,” she raised a slim eyebrow in question, but merely turned to her willowy companion, “Saelind, Mistress Elanor would like a word with you…”

The taller woman knelt down to speak with the young halfling. “I’m pleased to meet you at last, my dear,” said Saelind. “What did you need?”

“Thank you, my lady,” Elanor bobbed a curtsey. “I’ve been hoping to meet you too, though under different circumstances…”

The women’s faces all took on serious expressions as Saelind continued, “Is something wrong?”

“It’s Fastred Greenholm,” the lass answered, looking from each lady’s face to the next. “He’s burning up with fever and says he’s chilled, but I cannot find his father. Can you help him, my lady?” she asked Saelind.

“Take me to him, sweeting…” she stood up briskly.

“I’ll go for the lad’s father,” offered Gliowien, “and pray that Mac hasn’t drunk him under a table.”

Kally added, “And I’ll put on a put a kettle on to boil in case it’s needed.”

As the two women left, Aibreán said to Elanor, “Come, vanisiler. Take Saelind and me to Master Fastred. We will do what we can to help your friend.”


Once Elanor pointed out Fastred’s room to Saelind, the woman made a detour to her own quarters to retrieve her healer’s satchel. In the meantime, Aibreán knocked on the door as the hobbit lass stood by anxiously.

Getting no answer, the auburn-haired woman opened the door a crack. “Master Fastred?” she called softly, but only got a soft moan for an answer. Swiftly, she opened the door all the way and hastened to the bed. The lad was still wrapped in Elanor’s light blue woolen cloak and lying in a listless heap on top of his bed.

Fastred’s sandy hair was matted with perspiration and his cheeks were flushed with fever. Elanor saw Aibreán’s lips form a thin, grim line and she asked, “Is he going to be all right?”

“Saelind is a good healer, Elli,” she replied, remaining calm. “Now I know you want to help Fastred, so here’s what you can do. Run back downstairs and tell Lady Kally not to bother about the kettle. We need to set up a bath in here with tepid water. Can you remember that?”

“Yes!” the girl said. “Mama had to do that for Goldie when she had a fever last winter. She was very worried about my little sister… Is Fastred really, really sick?”

Aibreán put a comforting hand on the hobbit lass’s golden head. “I’ll let Saelind make that determination, sweeting. We just want to be prepared, right?” Bravely, Elanor nodded. “Good girl. Now hurry downstairs. We want that bath to be ready if we should need it, don’t we?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Without another word Elanor headed out the door just as Saelind returned and she heard the healer say, “Aubri, help me get the boy out of these clammy clothes…”

She was not allowed into the sick room again that night.


Elanor tried to bargain with Samwise to let her stay up to hear how Fastred fared, but was sternly overruled. The King and Queen would not appreciate any more delays because the hobbit lass was foolish enough to fall ill herself due to overtiredness and proximity to the sick lad. She tried to reason with him that she could start her training as errand-bearer by running for Saelind and Aibreán and the other Shieldmaidens tending to Fastred, but when Saelind came out to the corridor and agreed with her father, Elanor’s hopes of helping were dashed. Meekly, she went to her room and climbed into bed.

Yet, sleep did not claim her easily. The rain had finally stopped, so the faint sounds from below in the common room drifted up to make her wonder what the Shieldmaidens, rangers and other patrons of Queenie’s did while she lay in bed. The noise was subdued, she thought, perhaps reflecting the solemnity of the earlier ceremony or even the concern over the halfling boy down the hall from her.

Wondering kept her awake so she pulled a chair up to her window and opened it a little to listen to the horses and other animals in the nearby stables and barn. Suddenly Elanor felt homesick, missing her mother, Frodo and her other brothers and sisters. The animals seemed restless as well, for even though night had fallen she could hear the horses stamping in their stalls and cows and sheep lowing softly at one another.

Wrapping up tightly in the heavy coverlet from her bed, Elanor curled up in the chair and set a lone candle on the table at her elbow. Now that the rain had stopped, the air outside smelled clean and earthy. She breathed it in gratefully, thinking of home and her little garden at Bag End. Closing her eyes, she finally drifted off to sleep.


-end of Chapter Six-


Chapter 7 - Chapter Seven

Frodo Gamgee tiredly dove the tip of his spade into the turned up soil of the hill behind Bag End. He had spent the entire morning naturalizing the hill with bulbs that would not poke their pretty heads above ground until the spring. He knew he had done a good day’s work, but felt he had precious little to show for it.

He felt that about a lot of the work he had done since his father and Elanor had left for Lake Evendim, but Frodo took his sister at her word and trusted that if he worked hard doing all that was needed of him his parents would appreciate his efforts.

Truth be told, he rather liked the gardening chores. Elanor had done most of the light gardening as Samwise had taught his eldest child much of the lore of flowers and shrubs, doing all the vegetable gardening himself. And the hobbit lad found that he may, in fact, have a knack for it too. The spring bulbs nothwithstanding, Frodo had done some transplanting of herbs into pots for his mother’s sunny kitchen window, which to his secret delight were thriving splendidly.

Now that autumn was lengthening the lad was turning his imagination to other non-planting gardening projects and was contemplating an experiment with composting. As it seemed a rather messy prospect, Frodo decided to wait and see how it went before letting his mother in on the particulars. He also was thankful little sister Rose and brothers Merry and Pippin had been sent off to Aunt Marigold and Uncle Tom Cotton’s for the duration of their father’s absence. It would not do to have his younger siblings poking their too-curious noses in his smelly business and then tracking it into the house for all to see and smell!

The afternoon was nearly spent and young Frodo still had his regular chores to complete. With a weary sigh, he gathered up his gardening tools, loaded them in the wheelbarrow and prepared to head towards the shed.

As he stood up with the wheelbarrow, Frodo looked out across the farthing and noticed a rather fancy-looking wagon making its way up the hill.

At first he thought it might be his father and Elanor returning, but as the wagon did not look anything like the one his father had procured and as they had only been gone a few short weeks in any case, the lad quickly discarded that idea.

More than curious by now, Frodo hurried to the shed to deposit his tools then ran into Bag End to look for his mother.

“Mummy!” he called, sotto voce, through the house, as Goldie would be napping at that hour.

Rosie stepped out of the kitchen into the front room to ask, “What is it, Frodo? Have you mucked out the barn yet?”

“I was about to, ma’am,” he explained and hastened to stall her scolding, “but I came to tell you that there’s a wagon coming up the hill to Bag End!”

“A wagon? It’s probably some peddler, Frodo,” she frowned to herself. “I don’t have time to spend talking with such people.”

Slowly shaking his head, Frodo answered, “I don’t think it is a peddler, Mummy. The wagon was too fine. It was made from polished hardwood and there’s a painted canopy over the back of it.”

Musing, his mother agreed, “It does sound rather fancy. You go finish up in the barn and then clean up before tea. I’ll check out this wagon…”


The occupants of said wagon turned out to be Peregrine Took’s pretty wife Diamond and their young son Faramir. With them was a young hobbit lass about the same age as Frodo who had a rather sad expression, but spoke up forthrightly when addressed.

Diamond greeted Rosie enthusiastically and her friend was rather taken aback by her unexpected arrival.

“Rosie, it’s so good to see you, my dear!” greeted the Thain’s wife. “How are you feeling?”

Hugging her, Rosie answered, “Apart from being somewhat surprised to see you, Di, I’m feeling well. What brings you to Hobbiton?”

“Well, you do, Rose!” she laughed gaily. “You know, I couldn’t bear to think of you all alone here in your condition and I was rather lonesome myself, so I loaded up Faramir and Garnet in the wagon and set off on an adventure of my own. Garnet, sweeting, hop down here and meet Mrs. Gamgee.”

The hobbit lass obliged, leaping nimbly to the ground and bobbing a quick curtsey to Rosie. “Good afternoon, ma’am,” Garnet said with a solemn smile.

“Welcome, Garnet,” said Rosie, throwing a curious glance at her friend.

Diamond readily answered, “Garnet is Pip’s niece. You know his sister, Pervinca, passed away a few months ago?” Rosie nodded solemnly. “Her husband is still taking it quite hard, so we offered to take Garnet for a time.”

“Well, a sunnier household you could not have chosen, sweeting,” said Rose kindly to the girl. “I hope your sorrows are short-lived. Come now, Di. Collect young Master Took and let us traipse up to the house to find some refreshment…”


Rosie was taken aback when she entered Bag End to find that the kettle was already on the fire singing happily and a generous repast was set out on the table for their guests.

“What’s this, Rose? Were you expecting us all along?” asked Diamond.

With a tolerant and sweet smile, she answered, “I think my son is taking his hosting duties to heart.”

Only a moment later, the young man of the house tried not to skid into the front room from the hall. Stopping on the threshold, he took a moment to catch his breath before entering the room. Frodo looked to be freshly scrubbed, as damp locks clung to his suave cheeks and the collar of his fresh shirt stood up in the back.

Smoothly his mother eased the collar back in place and then patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Frodo, for making our guests welcome. Would you like to serve tea this afternoon?”

Feeling pride that Rosie had asked him to take over this important task, the lad was still somewhat disconcerted at the thought of pouring the hot liquid into the delicate porcelain cups. He knew he was likely to make a mess of it. “If you’ll pour, Mummy, I’ll be happy to pass around the cups,” he finally offered in compromise. With a brief nod, she moved to the table and silently began pouring while Frodo went to their guests and gave them a polite bow. “Welcome, Aunt Di,” he greeted. “May I offer you a cup of tea?”

“My dear Frodo, I am perishing for a cup,” Diamond exclaimed breezily as she offered her hand to him.

Squeezing her hand gently, he then turned to the young hobbit lass and asked, “And you, mistress?”

“Yes, please,” she answered soberly and bobbed a brief curtsey.

“Frodo, this is Garnet,” introduced Diamond. “She’s staying with us for awhile.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mistress Garnet,” greeted Frodo with grave politeness. “Welcome to Bag End.”

“Thank you, Master Frodo,” she replied then fell silent once more.

Carefully, Frodo took a cup to each guest, making certain not to slop any tea on the floor or either of them. That done he then brought small tea plates and napkins and offered them a selection of cake and biscuits while the ladies continued their animated conversation.

Gaily, Diamond related all the news from her end of the Shire as Rosie listened with a patient smile for her friend’s enthusiasm. The Mistress of Bag End wondered how Peregrine and Diamond managed to have a conversation, for she could not imagine how either would get a word in edgewise from the other!

While they were all occupied in their various ways, Garnet watched the scene before her with wistful eyes. She missed her mother dreadfully and watching her aunt and the mayor’s wife with their respective children made her long for her even more.

Like most of the Tooks, Pervinca had been sunny and blithe, filled with happy affection for everyone and everything. Garnet, while adoring those traits in her mother, was actually more like her thoughtful and passionate father, Anson. While he aimlessly wandered the Shire on foot brooding for his loss, Garnet was packed up and accepted into the Thain’s home to do the same.

Though Diamond might seem airy and sometimes frivolous to outsiders, those who knew her well understood she was quite keen and had her finger on the pulse of all that went on around her. Garnet had been with them several weeks and the hobbit lady watched her niece grow steadily more despondent. Worried for the child, she decided a change of scenery might be in order and a well-timed note from Peregrine about Rosie being on her own at Bag End set her plans in motion.

“Garnet, my dear,” said Diamond gently, “looks like little Faramir has finally settled in after his tea. Would you mind taking him someplace quiet to sleep?”

“Of course, Aunt Di,” she answered and took the drowsy lad in her arms.

Frodo also stood and immediately said, “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you where you can lay him down…”

Merely nodding, Garnet waited for her young host to lead the way, which he did solemnly with an air of importance.

After the children were well away, the two ladies chuckled tolerantly at their grave conduct.

“Have you ever seen such two sober children?” smiled Diamond. “Garnet I can understand… she’s gone through a lot these past months, but what is with young Frodo?”

Rosie took a sip of her tea and smiled over her cup, “I sense that Elli has had a hand in that, whispering in her brother’s ear that he is the man of the house while their father is gone. He won’t admit it, but he hangs on her every word and you know my daughter… always acting a good deal older than most of the children her age.”

“Well, I’m sure Frodo was feeling left out with her leaving. It was good of Elli to sense it and give him an important purpose to consider as well.”

“I can’t believe what a little lady she’s turning into, Di,” Rosie shook her head slowly. “One minute she’s a little girl and the next she’s a young woman. It was no easy thing, I tell you, to let her go off to the King and Queen among all the Big Folk. Elli has a tender heart and she’s never experienced disappointment or ridicule.”

Sighing, her friend replied, “We must let them go sometime, Rose. Lucky for me that I still have some time yet for Faramir, but Elessar and Arwen will see that Elli comes to no harm. And her father is there to comfort her.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Rosie agreed, then with a more practical tone asked, “Would you like another cup of tea, my dear?”

“Yes, thank you, Rose! I thought you’d never ask!”


Later that evening Frodo changed back into his work clothes and went outside to finish his evening chores.

He had mucked out the barn earlier, but due to the arrival of their guests, he had done a slip-shod job of it and knew it. If he wanted his mother to be satisfied with his work, he would need to finish it properly and take pains to get it done right.

That finally done he brought in their few animals from the pasture to bed down for the night. Eagerly most of the livestock ambled back to the barn, hungry for their supper. Yet, Glosroch the pretty, white mule that drew their dogcart around the Shire stubbornly refused to be coaxed back to her stall.

The name Glosroch had become a sort of family joke. The mule had been a gift from Éomer, King of the Horselords when Samwise was honored with the position of Mayor of Hobbiton. Elanor was just a young child at the time and insisted upon calling it the prettiest, whitest horse she had ever seen, regardless of the number of times her parents had informed her the animal was merely a mule. It came from the Horselord she reasoned, so it must therefore be a horse. Indulgently Samwise, becoming somewhat learned in the Elvish language by that time, offered up the expressive sobriquet and it rather stuck.

Glosroch continued to be a favorite of Elanor’s and she of the mule’s. Since the hobbit lass’s departure the animal had become more recalcitrant and young Frodo had little patience for her.

“C’mon, Rocky,” he called impatiently to the mule as he tried to pull her along behind him. “Don’t you want your supper?”

As Glosroch dug her heels deeper, refusing to budge, the lad slipped on some mud and ended up on his posterior end with soggy trousers. “Stupid beast,” Frodo murmured under his breath. “Fine! Stand out here and starve then!”

The mule’s answer was a saucy bray and a flick of her thick, stubby tail. Giving the animal a dirty look, Frodo got to his feet, and as he tried in vain to dust off his muddy seat he heard a quiet chuckle.

“You’re making it worse, I’m afraid,” said Garnet with a solemn smile.

“What are you laughing at?” asked Frodo testily.

A brief twinkle gleamed in her green eyes as she replied, “That would be you, I think. Would you like some help?”

He considered ignoring her, but something about the way she smiled at him was pleasant and friendly, despite her sad expression. It was the first time he saw Garnet smile all day, and as that seemed no small feat he replied in kind, “You think you can get her moving?”

He raised a slim eyebrow at her in challenge and the lass moved gingerly to the mule and began stroking her white neck and whispering gently in Glosroch’s long ears.

Gradually the animal moved forward and Garnet continued to murmur sweet cajolery while she led her towards the barn by her harness rather than the lead rope. It only took a few moments and the white mule was in her stall munching contentedly on her grainy supper.

“I’m impressed,” said Frodo truthfully. “You have a way with animals.”

Garnet shrugged, “She just wanted a little flattery. I think this elderly fellow in the next stall has been giving her a time of it.”

“That’s Bill, my father’s pony,” he replied. “He’s getting up there in years and Papa doesn’t want to tax him too much, as he’s been a faithful companion over the years.”

“That explains it,” Garnet said with a soft pat on Glosroch’s rump. “Just give Rocky here some attention every once in awhile and she’ll be more apt to follow along.”

“It’s usually my sister that takes care of her, but with Elli gone for awhile it’s up to me make sure she’s taken care of. Plants, I’m good with… animals are another story, I’m afraid.”

Generously the lass offered, “Well, I’ll help you out while I’m here if you want.”

“I might take you up on that,” Frodo answered with a grateful nod, “at least where Rocky is concerned. When are you due to go back home?”

Suddenly, Garnet’s eyes teared up and she replied tremulously, “I’m not sure I have a home anymore…”

“Oh… hey…” he stepped towards her awkwardly. He was not expecting tears after that cheeky conversation with her. Searching his pockets, he found his handkerchief and offered it to her.

Surprisingly it was clean. Or perhaps not so surprisingly, as Frodo was more likely to use his sleeve as a handkerchief than the folded square of linen tucked in his back pocket.

“Thank you!” she sobbed and dissolved into tears as she buried her face in the handkerchief.

Completely flustered with this turn of events, Frodo merely stood there and waited out her storm of emotion. Once or twice he thought of sneaking out of the barn and leave her be, but he sensed that would make matters worse and so he abided.

Finally as her sobs lessened the lad approached and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder just as he would have done for his sister. “Forgive me, mistress… I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Swallowing back the last of her sobs, Garnet answered, “It’s not your fault. I’ve been holding this back awhile… I try to be brave, Frodo…” her voice trembled, but she controlled her tears, “but it’s so hard… with Mummy dead and Papa so sad and lonely I feel lost…”

Frodo had missed the explanation of Garnet’s presence with Diamond Took, so the news came as a surprise to him. “I’m so sorry, mistress!” The thought of losing his own mother was incomprehensible to Frodo. “So now you live with Aunt Di and Uncle Pip?”

“Yes,” she sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. “At least until my Papa comes home… if he ever comes home…”

Too young yet to know how to comfort such loss and uncertainty, the lad sat on a hay bale with a deep sigh. Garnet joined him on the bale and the pair stared disconsolately out the barn doors to watch the sun set behind the party tree.

Some minutes later Frodo offered, “I’m going to go plant some more bulbs on the hillside tomorrow. You want to help, mistress?”

“All right,” she answered solemnly, “but only if you start calling me Garnet.”

He nodded. “It’s getting cold,” he stated. “We should go in before it gets too dark. Mummy might have something hot and sweet for us to eat after supper.”

Silently the pair stood and headed back into the house firmly established as friends and perhaps looking forward to some fun on the morrow that neither expected a quarter hour earlier.


-end of Chapter Seven-


Chapter 8 - Chapter Eight

After several days a routine began to fall into place at Bag End with the Tooks in residence with the Gamgees. The household was as busy as ever and it fairly buzzed with the hive of activity.

Diamond took over watching the younger children with Garnet to help now and then while Rosie kept up on the mayor’s duties in Samwise’s absence. Frodo continued with his usual chores and when she was free Garnet helped him as well.

Having extra hands to help made the work go quickly so Frodo was able to spend more time on his gardening projects. The hill was finally planted with as many bulbs as the lad could lay his hands on and the last of the fall vegetables had been gathered from their small garden and given over to the ladies to put up for the winter.

Frodo had even found time to start his composting project. He let Garnet in on his plans and she listened to his ideas with interest, but she left him to try out his smelly experiment entirely on his own.

But the day had come, however, to pick fruit from the small orchard that Samwise had cultivated near the new party tree. Rosie told Frodo and Garnet to take two bushel baskets down there and bring back as many luscious, creamy pears as they could carry. After that task was done the rest of the day would be theirs to do as they wished.

Happy to have a holiday of sorts, the pair eagerly grabbed their baskets and ran down to the orchard with nothing more pressing on their minds than sampling as many pears as they picked!

Slowly Garnet was coming back out of her shell. Frodo had even heard her squeal with delight as she ran down the hill and splashed through the little rill that bordered the orchard.

They enjoyed the day off from their regular chores, playing tag, picking fruit and laying in the soft grass as they made short work of their purloined pears. The day was fine, one of the last warm ones before winter set in across the Shire, and they took full advantage of the sunshine and pleasant breezes.

Finally, though, they noticed the sun making its late afternoon descent towards evening and decided it was time to haul the bushels of fruit back up to Bag End.

“This fruit is heavy,” Frodo groaned as he hoisted the basket to his hip.

Garnet grunted agreement over the heavy load. Yet, she had wisely filled her basket only half full and was not having nearly as much trouble as her companion climbing the hill with her burden.

“Here… put some of yours in my basket,” she offered. “I still have plenty of room.”

“That’s all right,” he demurred. “I’ve got it.”

“That’s all right… I’ve got it,” the pair heard a snarky voice repeat.

Before them was a belligerent-looking hobbit lad a few years older then Frodo. He had dun-colored hair and dun-colored eyes to match and his arms were crossed carelessly over his stocky chest.

“Shove off, Ken,” Frodo grimaced. “And take your gang with you. Come on, Garnet. Let’s get these up to the house.”

Having tangled with Ken Sandyman and his toady friends, the lad knew he was at a serious disadvantage.

“Who’s gonna make me, Gamgee?” Ken shoved Frodo in the chest and the smaller lad stumbled back with his burden.

Garnet shot out a hand to steady him and he was saved from falling on his rump. Giving the stocky boy a long, arch look she turned away deliberately and said to her companion, “We should go, Frodo. We’ll be missed, I’m sure.”

“So who’s this orange-haired priss?” the bully taunted. “Do you always let a girl do your talking for you? This one’s even more stuck-up than your snob of a sister.”

Frodo saw tears spring to Garnet’s eyes at the other boy’s teasing. Her ginger-colored hair was a delicate subject for her and her hand stole up unconsciously to smooth it down while her green eyes swept to the ground so Ken could not see them full of tears.

Bravely, Frodo stepped between her and Ken saying, “First of all, my sister is not a snob. She just knows when someone isn’t worth her time and effort.” Ken started to bristle, but the younger lad did not heed the signs and continued, “And secondly, Garnet is not a priss and her hair isn’t orange, so you’d better apologize to her right now.”

“Ha! Like I would listen to you,” Ken barked and the other boys with him laughed as well.

Setting his bushel basket at his feet, Frodo stood proudly and announced, “I mean it, Ken. Apologize to her or I will make you!”

“Frodo, no!” gasped Garnet as Ken strode closer to loom over Frodo.

Gulping slightly, the lad held his ground. "It's all right, Garnet," he said softly. "You'd better stand back though..."

She would have tugged at his arm, but Frodo evaded her grasp as Ken planted himself directly in front of him like a bulwark to be assailed. The smaller lad had to look up the meet the tyrant’s dull gaze, but he would not back down and refused to flinch.

The tension between the two boys hung ominously as each waited for the other to make the first move. While Ken stared hard at Frodo, his gang threw out their own taunts at him as they circled around them.

Ken started to get bored with the staring contest until one of his comrades, a lank ne’er-do-well named Gordo, took matters into his own hands by suddenly grabbing Garnet from behind. Her surprised yelp startled Frodo into wheeling around and Ken saw his chance.

As Frodo turned to help his friend, his foe charged at him and toppled him to the ground, effectively tackling him. More than angry now, the lightweight refused to give the bigger boy the advantage and he did not hesitate to haul off and hit him square in the jaw with a well-placed right hook.

Blood spurted from Ken’s mouth and he stumbled back in dismay. With his opponent distracted for the moment, Frodo went to rescue Garnet who was struggling still in the arms of Gordo. As he reached to grab the wiry boy’s arm, he heard Garnet gasp, “Frodo, look out!”

Wheeling back towards the direction of the wounded Ken, Frodo had little time to react to the jagged rock hurtling his way and felt the sharp projectile connect painfully just over his left ear. The force of the rock staggered him and Frodo sank heavily to the ground in a haze of blood and agony.

“No! Frodo, are you all right?!” cried Garnet helplessly. When she got no answer from her friend, she determinedly renewed her struggle to get free, finally punching Gordo right between the eyes saying, “Get off me, orc-breath!”

There was a satisfying-sounding crack that Garnet realized was the boy’s nose breaking beneath her fist. As blood speckled his shirtfront, the boy looked at her in stunned outrage, but instead of retaliating Gordo ran off towards home.

Meanwhile the other boys started to close in on her and Garnet seized the only other weapon she had at hand – the pears!

Grabbing up an armful, she started pelting the bullies with the fruit as hard as she could. Her aim was good and the pears still firm enough to hurt as they connected with their targets. Soon all the boys except for Ken had run away.

“I could hurt you,” Ken threatened as he inched closer to her.

Defiantly, she replied, “Go ahead and try,” though she retreated a step or two as he approached.

Completely focused on Garnet, the thuggish boy did not noticed that Frodo was watching him, waiting for a moment to get the upper hand again. It finally came as Ken started to step over Frodo’s prone form on the ground. Just as the older boy lifted his foot, Frodo tripped him and Ken fell over spectacularly and rolled a little ways away down the slight incline of the hill.

For a moment both Frodo and Garnet thought he might attack them both, but to their surprise, after one more long, hard stare at them the bully got up and beat a hasty retreat.

Instantly, Garnet was at Frodo’s side and asked, “Are you all right?”

“Aww…” he answered testily, “it’s nothing. Don’t fuss at me, Garnet…”

Hurt, she replied, “Fine then…” and stalked off a few paces to try to salvage some of the pears.

Frodo struggled to get to his feet to help her, for his mother would be expecting the pears regardless of the circumstances of the delay in their delivery. Yet, as he stood erect a wave of dizziness hit him, blinding him in a swirl of red then gray then black.

Hearing a heavy thud in the grass behind her, Garnet wheeled to find Frodo back on the ground, lying in a swoon. As she drew near him again, she saw blood trickling down the front of his left ear and she stooped to look at it.

The lad moaned at her touch, but did not regain consciousness. Probing his sandy curls, she quickly found a gash above his ear that was moist with blood, but now beginning to clot.

Quickly, the lass ran to the nearby rill and then stopped suddenly to look on her person for something to clean up the wound and then bind it. Thrusting her small hands in her pinafore pockets, Garnet found the handkerchief that Frodo had loaned her. She had tried to return it to her friend on several occasions, but he always shrugged it off and told her to keep it as he had little use for it.

Well, she had good use for it now and bent to soak it in the cool water of the rill. When she returned to Frodo’s side, she cleaned up the wound as best she could then rinsed out the handkerchief and refolded it to serve as a bandage. As she fastened it into place with a strip of her pinafore ruffle, Frodo began to come around again moaning quietly as he sensed her ministrations.

“Hush, Frodo,” she said gently. “I’m almost done…”

“We need to get home,” he said weakly. “Mummy is not going to be happy about the pears…”

“No,” she agreed. “But she will understand.”

“She gets angry when I fight.”

“I wish we could say that we could’ve avoided it, Frodo. But Ken and his friends weren’t going to let us.”

“No, I suppose not. She’ll be angry in any case, and she’ll punish me for sure. I doubt I get to see the light of day for a month…”

Wistfully, Garnet said, “Well, for a few days anyway. You’re going to be laid up, Frodo. Head wounds are nothing to mess with.”

“I’ll be fine once I catch my breath…”

It took the pair half an hour to get up the hill, which was normally a five-minute jaunt. Frodo had to stop every few minutes to “catch his breath.” He finally let Garnet lend him an arm when he could no longer stand on his own, and together they struggled through the front gate at last.

“Bless the Valar!” exclaimed Diamond as she met the pair at the door. “What has happened, children?”

“Long story,” Garnet grunted as she shifted Frodo’s almost dead weight to a more comfortable spot on her shoulder. “He’s hurt, Aunt Di, and needs his mother…”

Joining them, Diamond put her arm under Frodo’s other arm and they steered him into the parlor where he could lay on a divan softened with half a dozen squishy pillows.

Rosie heard them come in and stepped into the parlor from the kitchen to scold them, “Where have you two been? It’s nearly dusk…”

Her tirade was cut short at the sight of her son sprawled on the divan with a bandaged head and pale complexion. Rosie’s own face was instantly drained of color as she rushed across the room to kneel at his side.

“Rose, where do you keep your healing herbs and linens?” asked Diamond practically.

Distractedly, the mayor’s wife answered, “Umm… kitchen… in the small pantry… Frodo, where else are you hurt, luv?”

“I’m all right, Mummy,” he tried to assure her bravely. “I’m just a little dizzy…” Suddenly his face took on a funny expression, which Rosie knew meant he was about to loose his stomach.

Quickly she grabbed a large bowl of fruit sitting on the low table nearby and dumped the contents onto the floor at her feet. Just in time she got the basin to Frodo as he vomited up all the pears and his lunch from earlier.

Diamond walked into the room with supplies, including a basin of warm water and towels. She took the other bowl from her friend and started to make her way back to the kitchen when she noticed Garnet standing in the middle of the room with a stricken expression.

“Come with me, dear,” said the Thain’s wife. “You can tell me what happened while I get you cleaned up.”

Meekly, the lass followed her aunt and sat in the chair near the hearth that Diamond indicated on her way to dispose of the bowl’s contents. Garnet sank in the deep chair and closed her eyes, but the scene of the fight with the bullying gang filled her mind. Realizing how lucky she had been to get off so easily, she began to weep gently. Frodo had not been so lucky and she felt badly that her small honor was saved by his courage.

“Please let him be all right…” she cried.

“I’m sure Frodo will be just fine after some rest, sweeting,” said Diamond when she heard her niece’s lament. Suddenly noticing blood splattered all over the girl’s torn pinafore, she asked breathlessly, “Garnet, is any of this blood yours? Are you hurt somewhere?”

Wiping her tears with her sleeve as she had given up the handkerchief to bind Frodo’s head, the lass answered, “I’m not hurt. I broke a boy’s nose.”

“Good gracious! What have the pair of you been up to? You’d better give up the tale, my dear, before we have angry parents pounding on the door.”

Dutifully, Garnet related what had happened in the orchard to her aunt. Diamond relaxed a little when she realized that the pair had not instigated the fight and smoothed some of the girl’s coppery hair out of her face with a motherly gesture with a deep sigh.

“We really didn’t start the fight, Aunt Di,” she assured her breathlessly, “and Frodo was so brave to stand up for me. I wouldn’t have hit that boy except that he wouldn’t let go and I was afraid for Frodo.”

“Well, it’s unfortunate that it came to blows. Fighting doesn’t solve anything, Garnet, but it does rather seem that these boys gave you little choice.”

“Do you really think Frodo will be all right, Aunt Di?”

“A few days rest, luv, and he’ll be good as new. I promise,” answered Diamond. “Now sit back in that chair and I’ll find you something to eat for your supper.”


The two hobbit ladies watched over Frodo throughout the night, making sure his slumber did not slip into something deeper and unreachable. Yet, the lad had a hard head and by morning they were fairly certain of a speedy recovery.

They let Garnet sit with him in the morning so Rosie could rest and Diamond could get the day started around the house. Frodo still slept somewhat fitfully, but color had returned to his cheeks at last.

Sun was streaming brightly into the bedroom to shine on the lad’s face and a cool breeze wafted through the window to make her shiver. Getting up to shut the window, Garnet was startled to hear, “Don’t shut it just yet, if you don’t mind. The fresh air feels good.”

“Frodo!” she breathed. “You’re awake! Are you all right?”

“Aw, I’m all right, Garnet,” he answered. “Gordo and Ken didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“No, just my feelings… but that was silly of me. I can’t help what color my hair is and those boys were just being mean on purpose. I should learn to ignore comments like that.”

“Ken makes trouble wherever he goes,” explained Frodo. “I don’t pay too much attention to what he says, but I’m sorry he made you cry. And for what it’s worth, I think your hair is pretty.”

“Really?” Garnet brightened and the lad nodded gingerly. “Thanks for sticking up for me, Frodo.”

“You didn’t do too badly on your own. That was some punch you gave Gordo!”

Slyly she grinned, “Hopefully he and Ken and their cronies won’t be bothering us any time soon.”

Both hobbit children laughed heartily, sharing a moment that cemented their solidarity in the days and years to come. Rosie and Diamond overheard their happy laughter and both sighed in relief. Giving each other a knowing glance, Rosie then said to her friend, “They’ll be all right.”

“Indeed they will,” agreed Diamond.


-end of Chapter Eight-


Chapter 9 - Chapter Nine

To her dismay Elanor did not get to say good-bye properly to Fastred Greenholm. The lad was quite ill and was not allowed any visitors while he was fevered, and in the meantime the weather dried up enough for the roads to be passable again. Samwise was anxious to be on the road to see the King, so the lass was forced to leave Fastred only a brief note instead.

Saelind assured Elanor that her new friend would be just fine eventually and she promised to keep a close eye on him to make certain of it. Disappointed as she was though, she was brightened by the news that Lady Aibreán and the ranger Tanner would be escorting their party to Lake Evendim. Nildë the puppy naturally was part of their entourage and quickly ensconced herself in the back of the wagon where it was warm and comfortable rather than the more precarious and jarring perch amidst her mistress’ saddlebags.

The weather since the rainstorms had turned crisply cold and the skies remained overcast. Elanor wrapped her cloak more tightly around her small form and nestled closer to her father at the reins of the wagon for warmth.

Absently, Samwise put an arm around her shoulders and drew her near, musing aloud, “I wonder what your mother and Frodo are up to at home?”

“Frodo told me he was really going to try to work hard while we’re gone,” Elanor looked up at him. “He wants you to be proud of him, Papa.”

Startled by her comment, the mayor stated somewhat indignantly, “I’m proud of all my children.”

“Really, Papa?” she asked. “Because I don’t think Frodo realizes it.”

His brow furrowed deeply and he murmured, “I’ll have a talk with him about it when I get home…”

Tanner rode up at that moment and asked, “You about ready to stop for the evening, Master Gamgee? We’re losing daylight and there’s a good spot to pitch camp just up ahead.”

“What do you think, Elli?” her father asked trying to regain his amiable mood. “You ready to get off this wagon for awhile?”

Eagerly she nodded, as her legs were stiff and she had tired of the hard bench rolling beneath her while they bumped along the road. Not to mention her stomach growled at her, for luncheon was hours ago and they had missed afternoon tea owing to their now dogged pace towards Lake Evendim.

Aibreán had ridden ahead, so when they reached the campsite she had already started a fire and the beginnings of supper were already bubbling in the pot. As the shieldmaiden busily worked at setting up a snug place to eat and relax, she hummed and sang snippets of songs. Elanor was soon to learn that music surrounded the auburn-haired woman as easily as the air, and the variety of the songs ranged from hobbity drinking songs to Rohirric battle hymns to elvish ballads.

Noticing that Tanner would often stop and watch his lady, Elanor commented to Meriadoc quietly, “The ranger loves to hear Aibreán sing, doesn’t he?”

“Indeed he does, little one,” agreed the holdwine. “Have you not heard how they met?” When she shook her head, he sat on a nearby stump and pulled her onto his lap to reveal the tale in soft tones. “As you may know, the lady is one of the Shieldmaidens of Rohan that elected to accompany Éowyn, the King’s sister, when she married Faramir, Prince of Ithilien. Though is was still fair in some areas, much of that countryside needed to be restored after the war and several of those brave ladies volunteered to go.”

“And Lady Saelind too?” she asked.

“Aye,” he replied. “Good healers were especially needed.”

Elanor stole a look at Aibreán who was now brushing her mount. “What sort of skill does she provide for Ithilien, Uncle Merry?”

“Like Lady Novedhelion, Aubri is a bard. She records, writes and performs stories for the Court of Ithilien. However, those first years her main focus was to help reforest the land.”

“Just like Papa?”

Meriadoc grinned, “Well, the Ithiliens did not have the benefit of Lady Galadriel’s magical soil or the mallorn seed, but they had a similar task. She has some talent as a gardener like your father in any case. That’s in fact how Tanner met Aubri.”

“They were planting trees together?”

“Not exactly,” he laughed. “Now Tanner is a ranger from the North, a very distant cousin of the King, you know.” By her expression, Elanor very clearly did not know that bit of news. “And Elessar asked him and a few of the other rangers to settle in Ithilien as well, since the ranks of the Gondorian rangers were as thinned by the war as the trees were. One day as Tanner was patrolling a certain area as part of his duties he heard singing from far off. So struck was he by the sound of this enchanting voice he felt compelled to follow it. Aubri, naturally, did not know Tanner was there and she continued her own duties, so that it was several miles before he could catch up with her. When he did at last, she was just about to take a dip in the stream. The ranger knew he could have merely gone on and waited for her to finish her swim in private, but he was afraid of losing her and so he stepped into the glade…”

Elanor sighed, “It sounds just like Lúthien and Beren…”

“Except that Aubri threw her dagger at him and missed his ear by mere inches!” laughed Meriadoc.

“And I would call her Tinúviel,” added Tanner having overheard the hobbit’s explanation, “except that Aubri thinks it’s impious to compare her to the daughter of an Ainu.” He leaned in closer to Elanor to say conspiratorially, “She’ll sometimes let me call her Vanilindë, fair singer. She speaks elvish quite well and knows that ‘fair’ means ‘lovely,’ but pretends that it only means ‘so-so.’” He winked at the hobbit lass, “I let her have her little delusion, but we both know what I mean when I say it.”

The sun by this time had nearly set and a chill wind blew through the camp. Elanor shivered and Tanner gallantly threw his heavier cloak over the girl. “Here you go, Elli. This will keep you warmer. Why don’t you move up closer to the fire now?” The ranger rubbed and blew on his ungloved hands. “By the Valar, I don’t remember it being so cold so early!”

Once the sun went down the temperature plunged. Tanner built up their campfire when supper was over until it was nearly a small bonfire.

Samwise quickly sent Elanor to bed in the back of the wagon. The canopy was up and her father bundled extra blankets over her bedroll.

Though she was not particularly sleepy the lass gratefully snuggled down into the warmth of her makeshift bed. Nildë also burrowed beneath the blankets and their small bodies kept each other warm.

Elanor lay quietly and listened to the conversation of the adults over the crackle of the fire.

At one point Aibreán began to sing. The halfling girl could not understand most of the words, as they were Elvish, and seemingly Quenya at that. Yet, the passionate inflection of the words conveyed as much as mere meaning did, and Elanor peeked out between the canopy and the wagon to see how the ranger was reacting to it.

Until recently Elanor had not given boys much thought. She was told often enough that she was pretty, but that was mostly from adults and if there was a lad back home that gave her a second glance she gave no notice of it.

She did notice how Tanner looked his lady, however. Elanor did not exactly understand what that look meant, but she sensed that the pair shared something deep and wonderful, something that was unique to them alone.

Absently she wondered if her parents shared that same sort of bond. Elanor never paid much attention to Samwise and Rosie as individuals. To her they were always “Papa” and “Mummy.” Did they look at each other in the same way as Aibreán and Tanner did?

The lass continued to watch the couple furtively through the gap in the canvas as the Shieldmaiden nestled into Tanner’s warm embrace when she was done singing. Wrapping her in his arms beneath a blanket, they settled in together before the fire, whispering intimately between them when the hobbits had all drifted to their own bedrolls.

Sighing, Elanor imagined how pleasant it must be to have a lifemate to comfort you and to love you. She knew she was only fifteen years old, still a child in the eyes of the hobbit world. Yet, grown-up days would not be so far behind and the halfling girl finally dropped off to sleep dreaming of the days to come.


-end of Chapter Nine-


Chapter 10 - Chapter Ten

When Elanor woke the next morning, a thin layer of snow blanketed the ground. Nildë was already up and prancing in the soft white stuff as she chased her tail while Aibreán started breakfast over the fire.

"Get dressed, sweeting," the Shieldmaiden called out gaily. "Breakfast is almost ready and we should start out soon. Tanner said it might snow some more this afternoon."

"Snow…" Elanor mused aloud. The hobbit lass had, of course, seen snow; however, it did not make its appearance this early in the autumn. It would be much closer to Yule before the Shire saw a dusting of the white powder. She shivered slightly as a stiff wind blew past the wagon and she ducked back in to put on warm clothes and a cloak to join Aibreán and the others at the fire.

"Where is everyone?" Elanor asked a few minutes later when she noticed only Peregrine and her father at the fire. Tanner was still absent and Aibreán seemed to have left to join him. Meriadoc was missing too; and even Nildë was gone.

Samwise answered, "Nevermind, Elli," though he threw his friend an anxious look. "Come on over here and eat your breakfast. We don’t have time to dawdle this morning."

Understanding her father’s tone of voice, she stifled her questions and sat down to eat. That is not to say, however, that Elanor was oblivious to the anxiety between the two older hobbits. She saw the glance her father gave Peregrine, and so she pricked her ears up to listen for whatever danger was that they seemed to fear.

Yet, neither was Samwise oblivious to his daughter’s curiosity. To try to keep her mind off what might be bothering him, he asked Peregrine, "So do you think Diamond has packed up for Bag End, Pip?"

"Oh, most certainly," he replied. "Any excuse to keep from being home alone. And Garnet needed a change of scenery."

"Your niece, right? Pervinca’s lass?" asked the mayor.

"Aye. Since my sister died, Anson has been inconsolable. Di thought it best if the girl come stay with us while he sorts himself out…"

"How old is she, Uncle Pip?" asked Elanor eagerly, completely distracted by this discussion.

"Well… to be honest, my dear, I’m not exactly certain," he answered. "Probably your age or perhaps a little younger. Maybe of an age with young Frodo. I wonder if he and my niece are getting along all right…"

“Frodo usually doesn’t have much use for girls,” she replied archly, “if how he treats me is any indication…” Suddenly she remembered Frodo’s “orc” arrow in her pocket and felt somewhat rueful. “Still, he can be thoughtful when he wants and he’s stood up for me often enough. Ken Sandyman is always bothering me and Frodo has gotten a few bruises to keep him away from me.”

Samwise raised a severe eyebrow, “I’d just as soon your brother didn’t fight with anybody, let alone a Sandyman. You two shouldn’t have anything to do with those folk if you can help it.”

“Tell Ken that, Papa,” she replied airily. “He’s such a nuisance!”

Before Samwise could give her a sharp answer, the trio heard some commotion a little ways away from camp.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” said Peregrine who stood to peer hard into the distance.

His friend also stood and added, “Nor I.”

“Will you please tell me what’s…” she started.

Baying in the distance made her blood run colder than the snow on her feet. She heard Nildë’s small if spirited answer and knew that the creatures were more than mere dogs.

“Elli, get in the wagon,” commanded her father tersely.

“What are those creatures?” she asked anxiously.

Peregrine said urgently, “Listen to your father, lass! Get in that wagon… now!”

Elanor had never heard her Uncle Pip use that tone of voice before and she quickly scurried toward the wagon.

Just then Meriadoc galloped into camp on his sturdy Rohirrim pony to shout, “Take cover! Warg-riders coming this way!”

Samwise scrambled towards the wagon as Peregrine drew his sword and mounted his pony in one smooth action.

Another long howl stopped Elanor in her tracks. The sound was terrifying and she stood frozen to that spot, like one of the great statues in the marble halls of Minas Tirith. She did not understand at all what was happening. Warg-riders? Did they even still exist in Middle-earth? She rather thought of them as fantastical creatures with which her mother used to threaten punishment upon her and Frodo when they were especially trying her nerves.

A moment later more riders charged into their little camp: Aibreán and Tanner first, then behind them an elf and a dwarf, followed by several rangers.

“Quickly!” shouted Tanner to the hobbits on foot. “They are not far behind!”

The elf drew an arrow from his elegant quiver and sent it sailing into the dense forest behind them. His marksmanship was rewarded with a strangled yowl in the distance.

“I suppose you think that puts you in the lead again,” bellowed the dwarf amiably to the elf. His companion merely smiled over his shoulder.

Clambering up onto the wagon, Samwise assumed that Elanor had done the same. Still, the hobbit lass stood horrified. Nildë’s insistent yapping from Aibreán’s saddlebags brought Elanor to her senses, but not in time to see the wagon start forward and then just as suddenly back up as the horses balked in tense fear.

Startled, she stumbled back into the snow and was in danger of being run over by the large wheels when to her great surprise Elanor found herself lifted onto horseback and swiftly borne away from the peril of the wargs and their orc masters.

Her rescuer was hooded and she could not make out his face. Neither did he spare a moment for introductions. He pressed his mount to run harder, and the lass could hear the rumbling of the wagon in their wake. This was no time for niceties!

After some time their pace eased and finally the fleeing group took a moment to pause, all of them left rather breathless from the tumult. Samwise carefully drew the wagon up next to Elanor’s savior as the ranger pushed back his hood and looked around for further danger.

“Your Highness!” the mayor breathed. “I do thank you for taking such good care of my girl. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to her!”

Elanor looked up the face of Eldarion Telcontar, her rescuer, with wonder. Gray eyes looked down at her with amusement and curiosity as he said, “So, this is the fair Elanor Gamgee? I took you for a child, mistress. My mistake…”

Too stunned to speak, the small damsel merely nodded and continued to stare into those steely eyes.

“I think she may be in shock, Your Highness,” said Samwise. “Why don’t you let me take her?”

“I’m… I’m all right, Papa,” Elanor finally managed to say. “That is… if His Highness doesn’t mind me riding with him?”

Eldarion’s answer was a broad grin as he urged his mount forward. “Not at all, Mistress Gamgee. I would welcome the company.” Looking around to Samwise and the other hobbits, he then suggested, “We should continue. We’re not completely out of danger, I think. The others will catch us up when they can.”


-end of Chapter Ten-


Chapter 11 - Chapter Eleven

Elanor watched Eldarion with unfeigned awe through most of their flight back towards Fornost. The young prince tried not to notice, but having her frank eyes on him rather unnerved him, who was more than used to being regarded.

“Is something amiss, Mistress?” he finally asked when he could stand it no longer.

“Nothing at all, Your Highness,” she answered shyly. “Why do you ask?”

“Well… I…” he stammered, “you… seem to watching me a great deal, and I…”

The hobbit lass was guileless as she answered, “To be honest, I have never seen a prince before, Your Highness – and you seem to be a very handsome one at that. It is rather wonderful, is it not, when someone steps out of a faerie tale?”

Eldarion laughed lightly, though he was still embarrassed, “I wouldn’t know, Mistress. No one’s ever told me a faerie tale. I don’t suppose you would oblige me with one while we ride?”

Now there was nothing Elanor liked so much as a good story and she knew a great many of them. She regaled Eldarion with one tale after the other until she was surprised to find them riding up the road to Queenie’s Inn once more.

“We’re back already,” she murmured. “It seems like we only left a few hours ago…”

Yet, a lot had occurred since their departure the several days prior. Where the courtyard was busy with patrons and townfolk even in the rain, the streets were nearly deserted now.

Queenie greeted them on the porch as usual as their group reined in together in front of the establishment, but she was alone except for two of her closest friends.

“Mae govannen, my prince!” the stately lady called to Eldarion. “Is everyone all right?”

“So it seems, my lady,” he answered. “But there were others who stayed behind to fight, so I know not what has happened to them.”

Tisbé replied quickly, “No need to worry for them, my prince. Elfhoster has just returned to tell us they fared well in the fight and are on their way now.”

The third woman who Elanor had not met before spoke up, “I was camping farther north and got wind of these orcs coming out of the mountains and was able to meet up with your friends. They sent me on ahead when the fighting was done.”

“Was anyone injured?” asked the prince.

The trio of women looked anxiously to one another, but Queenie merely answered, “Aye, but nothing that will not mend, Your Highness.” Then she brightened, “Come in and get settled then. There are few of us left, but we can still muster a hot meal and a warm bed. And you’ll be wanting to check on your young friend Fastred, I wager, little mistress.”

“Fastred? He’s still here then?” Elanor asked with some surprise.

“And fast on the mend, thanks to Saelind’s healing and your quick thinking,” she replied. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you again.”

Elanor felt a little rueful about Fastred as she had barely given him another thought once they had pulled out of Fornost. Still, she was glad to hear he was much better and it would feel right to be able to give him a proper farewell when she left Fornost this time.

Glancing down at his companion, the prince remarked, “There seems to be much about you to learn, Mistress. However, I must turn you over to Queenie’s care for now as I must check in with my men.”

Reluctantly, the lass let him set her on her feet on the porch and the proprietress and her friends scooted her inside to spoil her as they had done much before.


The mood of the inn no longer had the lively undercurrent of their previous visit. The shieldmaidens and the rangers talked much, but the tenseness that Elanor noticed when they first rode in prevailed throughout the evening.

The rest of the prince’s party arrived some hour or two later, but Elanor was upstairs bathing and missed their coming. Word was whispered around that there were injuries, but the lass could not find out whom and how badly no matter how hard she tried.

When she was allowed back downstairs, Elanor found Fastred also in the common room. He was sitting on a bench near the fire and looked to be waiting anxiously for her.

“Elli!” he rasped as he shot to his feet. “You’re all right!”

“I could say the same of you, Fastred,” she tried to laugh, “though your voice sounds a little worse for wear.”

“Oh, bother me! I’d heard a lady was hurt and I was afraid it was you!”

This news took Elanor back, though she recovered before her friend noticed much, “No, it wasn’t me. Prince Eldarion saved me from the warg-riders.”

“Warg-riders?! Really?!” Fastred’s boyish heart could not help but be impressed. “What do they look like? Are they really disgusting?”

“Well…” she faltered slightly, “I didn’t actually see one… but I heard them and that was scary enough!”

The lad gave her a somewhat disappointed look, but just then Eldarion entered the room and Elanor immediately had eyes for the prince alone. He gave her a breezy wave as he sat at a table with his ranger escort and she ducked her head shyly and blushed. Fastred looked from one to the other and quickly felt out of his depth.

“So that’s the prince, eh?” he murmured.

Elanor started to answer airily then got the drift of Fastred’s tone. “Yes, Fastred. That is His Highness, Prince Eldarion Telcontar.” She put her hands on her slim hips and arched an eyebrow at him, “Do you have a problem with that?”

“He’s just a boy,” Fastred could not help but say. “I thought he must be some paragon of virtue and strength the way people go on about him.” Then he shrugged, “I at least expected someone taller…”

Speechless, all Elanor could do was walk away from him. She thought of going up to her room to sulk, but the lass knew she would never find out what was going on if she hid up there. Instead, she joined her father’s table.

“What’s the matter, Elli?” asked Peregrine who did not miss much, though he pretended to be oblivious. “You and your beau have a spat?”

“What?!”

The gentlemen all laughed at her indignation and continued their conversation. Elanor kept her mouth shut so she might learn something at last.

“Winter came on too quickly this year,” Meriadoc was saying. “It’s driven the orcs out of the mountains betimes. Eldarion said his father has already headed for Gondor with the Queen and his court.”

“Elessar is not afraid of more warg attacks?” asked Folcred.

The mayor answered, “The retinue is large and well-guarded. There aren’t that many orcs out there to try to attack something that big. The few that came after us got wind of our passage by accident. We were lucky the King sent Eldarion on ahead to warn us."

“So, will you wait for the King and Queen here in Fornost then?” asked Folcred’s brother.

“Eldarion says not. Elessar wants us hobbits back safely in the Shire – and that includes you all. If your son is well enough to travel, Folcred, you must come with us. The King will then meet us at the bridge before they turn south to Gondor.”

“He’s hale enough now,” replied Fastred’s father. “We’ll be glad to travel with you all under the prince’s protection.”

“Ha!” erupted Elanor in Fastred’s general direction. The lad pointedly ignored her.


Elanor and Fastred spent the next two days circling each other warily. She made it perfectly clear that she preferred the prince’s company, and he was grateful that his vision of an elfmaid turned out to be “just a girl” after all.

Still, Fastred could not help but observe Eldarion to discover what endeared him so quickly to Elanor.

As he noted, Eldarion was still quite young – perhaps the same age as himself, though among the Big Folk the teen years were considered almost adulthood. His hair was a rich brown, cut long and somewhat shaggy, perhaps intentionally evoking the days when his father was still known as Strider.

It was obvious that his men loved and respected him, and when he spoke among them they listened as carefully as they would have Elessar himself. His voice was low and somewhat reedy as it still sought to find its manly range, and his gaze was steady and frank, gray-eyed with a hint of cool blue.

On the morning of their departure from Fornost, Fastred watched the prince from the porch as he briefed his rangers then saw to his own horse and weaponry. The hobbit lad was impressed to see the elven bow take its place beside the beautiful sword that was certainly dwarf craftsmanship. He had heard an elf and a dwarf were of the prince’s party, but had not glimpsed them as yet. Perhaps the weapons were gifts from them.

Just then Elanor stepped onto the porch. When she found Fastred there she nearly snubbed him, but she knew that would be childish of her. In fact, she felt rather guilty to be at odds with him at all. Fastred had only been sweet and kind to her, and he did not deserve the scorn she had thrown his way the past several days.

“Good morning, Fastred,” she said, tendering a truce.

“’Mornin’,” he replied with a cool nod.

The chill in his voice left her feeling bereft, but she knew she deserved it. “I’m sorry, Fastred.”

The lad remained silent for some time and Elanor started to move away with a tremulous sigh. Fastred did not feel very forgiving as she truly hurt his feelings, but he did not think she meant it on purpose.

“I’m sorry too,” he finally murmured.

“Really?” she begged. “I didn’t mean to be so hurtful, honest…”

“I know…”

Just then Eldarion stepped onto the porch. “Good morning, Elli!” he greeted her breezily. “May I know your friend here?”

Brightly, she answered, “Of course! Your Highness, this is Fastred of Greenholm. Fastred… Prince Eldarion Telcontar…”

The two boys sized one another up, although Fastred had already spent most of the morning doing it from afar. Eldarion apparently liked what he saw in the hobbit’s hazel-eyed gaze, for he stuck out a hand to him saying, “Well met, Fastred. Any friend of Elli’s is a friend of mine.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Highness,” Fastred managed to say. He did not expect the prince to be so amiable.

“You can skip the titles, you two,” he leaned in to them conspiratorially. “My friends just call me ‘Eldarion.’”

The friendly moment was interrupted, however, by the sight of Tanner carrying something very precious to him towards Samwise’s wagon. Elanor suddenly realized it was Aibreán and gasped.

“It was Lady Aibreán who was hurt?” she turned to Eldarion. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“It wasn’t my decision, Elli,” Eldarion replied soberly. “She’s going to be all right though, Saelind says. That’s one of the reasons I came looking for you… I know you were going to ride with me on the way back, but the ladies had hoped you would keep Aibreán company in the wagon. I hope that’s not too much of a disappointment?”

“Oh. I… well, of course I’ll ride with Aibreán. She’s been uncommonly nice to me. I’d do anything to be helpful!”

“Fastred, perhaps you’d like to try riding with me in her stead?” offered the prince. The lad’s answer was a huge grin that lit up his face. “Go get your gear together then, my friend. Elli, we’ll be sure to ride close and visit when we can!” Then with a wave, the prince was back down the stairs and off to get ready.

“Now I’m even sorrier,” said Fastred graciously.

“Why is that?”

“’Cause you were right, Elli. I’m really sorry I didn’t believe you about him.”

Feeling vindicated somewhat, Elanor still managed not to lord it over him. “Well… nevermind,” she said. “We were both sorry and we’re both forgiven, right?” He nodded emphatically and she impetuously gave him a brief kiss on the cheek. “Have fun, Fastred!”

As she bobbed off to the wagon, Fastred blushed to the roots of his sandy hair. Perhaps Elanor was an enchanting elfmaid after all!

-end of Chapter Eleven-


Chapter 12 - Chapter Twelve

Elanor wondered why she was asked to ride in the wagon with the injured Aibreán, for the shieldmaiden slept a great deal the first few days. The hobbit lass felt useless to help and frankly she got a little bored.

Eldarion rode close to the wagon with Fastred as promised. Yet, as Elanor was under the canopy it was difficult to converse with her friends without shouting – which naturally she did not want to do while the Lady was sleeping.

Riding close to the wagon also was the ranger Tanner. He checked often on his belovèd, and was nearly as frustrated with Aibreán’s constant sleeping as Elanor was.

Even so, Elanor was ready to provide anything the invalid needed and was on hand to cover her with an extra blanket for warmth or to tuck another pillow behind her to cushion the bumpy ride.

In the meantime, the lass grasped for anything else to pass the time – whether rereading one of the several books she brought with her or tending to the special pots of elanor flowers she had been carefully cultivating during the trip to present to the Queen. Sometimes she would just sit and watch Aibreán sleep, hoping to see signs of improvement.

One day, as they were nearing the town of Bree once again, Elanor did indeed see color back in the Lady’s face and a depth of breath to her slumber that had replaced the shallow in and out at the beginning of the journey.

Lady Saelind had looked pleased that morning after changing the dressing on Aibreán’s wounds so it looked like the patient was on the mend at last.

While Aibreán slept on, Elanor returned to Frodo’s book and slowly perused each page. Once again she got caught up in his story, particularly taken by his harrowing encounter with the Nazgûl on Weathertop, when she was startled to hear, “What are your reading over there, little sister, to make you gasp so?”

“Only my Uncle Frodo’s book of his adventures,” she answered shyly after catching her breath.

“Adventures indeed!” Aibreán agreed. “I’d heard Master Baggins had written them down. I should like to hear them if you’ve a mind to share them with me.”

Elanor was eager to do so and flipped back several pages to start the battle at Amon Sûl from the beginning. After finishing the first tale, the hobbit lass was encouraged to read a few more, as the sometime bard promised to give her elvish lesson in return.

Of course, the petite lady-in-waiting-to-be was only too happy to comply!

By the time the company road into Bree, Elanor had learned quite a few useful words and phrases and Aibreán had heard a great deal of Frodo’s book.

Because of the shieldmaiden’s condition, Eldarion decided they should stay at an inn to give her a day to recuperate without the bumpiness of the road. Saelind agreed readily and Barliman Butterbur’s Inn of the Prancing Pony was chosen as their destination.

The innkeeper was more than thrilled to see old faces as well as the new ones who resembled his one-time friends.

“Well, if you all aren’t a sight for sore eyes!’ he greeted his guests warmly. “Men and hobbits… and an elf and dwarf too! Well, we’ve got room for all. Come in… come in…”

It took the rest of the afternoon to get everyone settled, but by evening there was a merry gathering in the common room.

As Aibreán was upstairs sleeping with Tanner and Saelind to look after her, Elanor got to come down for the early part of the evening. She sat with her father and Meriadoc and Peregrine, as Fastred was off at a table with Eldarion and his men. “No place for a hobbit lass,” she sighed wistfully.

The room was lively with talk and laughter, but as much of it was not directed towards her, Elanor got rather bored. With nothing to keep her, she had decided to go to her room when the lithe and princely elf Legolas and his stouter dwarf-friend Gimli joined her father’s table.

Not having had an opportunity to meet either of her father’s old companions, Elanor firmly kept her seat to hear what they might have to report.

“How’s the ale here, Master Took?” asked Gimli with a gruff but amiable bark

Raising his stein, the Thain replied, “Excellent, my dear Gimli! Butterbur serves it in pints, you know!"

“Pints?” the dwarf grinned. “Legolas, care for a wager?”

“Not tonight, Gimli,” the elf prince answered. “But I’m sure Pippin and Merry will oblige you in your game. I would not count them out either. If they can handle Entdraught, they might just drink you under the table.”

Gimli looked startled at the thought for just a moment, then found the humor in his friend’s taunt and laughed heartily. “Half the fun is trying, eh?”

Elanor watched as the burly Lord of Aglarond strode to the bar with his two hobbit drinking companions, but slowly she felt herself being contemplated by a pair of cool, serene eyes the color of cornflowers.

Trying not to be daunted by his frank perusal of her features, she spoke up, “Elen síla lúmenn’ omentielvo, herumin.”

Rather surprised to hear her speak to him in his own language, the elf first raised in interested eyebrow then nodded politely and responded, “Elen síla lúmenn’ omentielvo, vanisiler.”

She grinned suddenly at him, happy to have both impressed him and gotten the phrase correct. “Hannon lle,” she said, then admitted, “And that’s about the extent of my knowledge of elvish, Your Highness. I’m still learning though. I know more words and phrases, but nothing to carry on a conversation.”

“You seem an apt pupil, Mistress Elanor.”

Ducking her head, she added, “I’m hoping to be able to speak to the Queen when I meet her and not completely embarrass myself.”

“Both Arwen and the King will appreciate any effort you put for on their behalf, I’m sure.”

“Can you tell me about them? Do you spend much time with them in Gondor?”

Legolas shook his head slightly, “No, not much time at all, I’m afraid. Gimli and I are mostly riding through Fangorn exploring or working in his cave city in Rohan.” Elanor looked crestfallen and the elf prince added, “But I can tell you that every good thing you heard about the King and Queen are true. And I rather doubt that you’ve heard a bad thing said of them at all.”

“Well that much is true,” she agreed. They were quiet for a time, and she tendered, “May I ask you a question, Your Highness?”

“You may… and you may also call me ‘Legolas.’ That title has no meaning for me outside of Mirkwood.”

“Are you going to take the ship like my Uncle Frodo someday, Legolas?” she asked artlessly. “It seems like all the elves that are still here plan on staying…”

He sighed heavily, “I must admit to you that I long to take the ship. And I will one day, but not anytime soon, I’m afraid.” Consternation crossed her suave features and he asked, “Why do you ask, vanisiler?”

“I was hoping you might bear a message to Frodo for me. I was only a baby when he left, but I want him to know that we haven’t forgotten him. I read his book nearly every day, and even though I was little and can barely remember him I still miss him.”

The smile Legolas gave her was sweetly wistful, “Little Elli, I promise to you that no matter how long it takes before I set sail, whatever message you want, whether it’s written or verbal I will bear to Frodo Baggins for you.”

Brightening, she asked, “Really?” He nodded solemnly and put his hand over his heart in promise. “Oh, but that is so wonderful! This is something I have longed for! What shall I say? I must go write something right now…” she stood to leave, then remembered herself, “Hannon lle, Legolas! Hannon lle!” and blew him a kiss as she skipped upstairs.

Bemused, Legolas watched her a moment then slowly turned to join Samwise in his conversation with Folcred and his brothers. Still, his mind stayed with the hobbit lass and her message for some time.


Elanor labored for more than an hour over her note to Frodo Baggins. When her father came upstairs sometime later, he found her sound asleep at a little writing desk, her golden head pillowed on one arm while the other lay across the desk holding the vellum packet that was her completed missive.

Samwise picked up the letter to examine it more closely. The ink now dry, he ran a soft thumb over his old friend’s name, which was girlishly written across the front with many loops and curlicues. Wistfully he smiled thinking of Frodo and hoping the Hobbit-Ringbearer was happier now living in the Undying Lands.

Propping the packet up against the ink well so Elanor would see it when she woke, her father then gathered her up in his arms and tucked her into one of Barliman’s lovely feather beds. Even in her sleep, Elanor felt the softness of the mattress and the warmth of the cozy coverlet and sank deeper between the crisp linens with a contented sigh.

That night they all slept soundly.


-end of Chapter Twelve-


Chapter 13 - Chapter Thirteen

With the prince staying at Barliman’s with his party, the clientele were on their best behavior. The rowdiness from the hobbit group’s prior visit disappeared instantly, so Hobbiton’s mayor felt somewhat easier about staying an extra day or two in Bree. Although, he limited Elanor’s exploring to the Prancing Pony’s environs. No wandering in town.

Folcred gave Fastred a similar restriction, so the hobbit lad and lass were effectively stuck in the inn.

“What are we supposed to do today?” asked Elanor wistfully as she propped her chin in her two small hands. “This is worse than being stuck inside because of the rain. It’s a perfectly lovely day outside.”

Fastred looked sulky too as he replied, “I don’t know. My father has threatened me within an inch of my life to stay put in the inn. I thought this trip was going to be fun, but all I’ve done is stay inside…”

“Well, at least you’ve gotten to ride with Eldarion.”

“That’s true,” he conceded, “but I doubt we’ll see much of him until we get back on the road. He gets to go where he wants.”

Both children were startled to hear, “Humph! What are you two brooding about?”

Gimli the dwarf was looking down at them with a cocked eyebrow and crossed arms.

Elanor stood directly and Fastred followed her example somewhat belatedly, as he had not yet met the dwarf. “Good morning, Master Gimli,” she greeted him respectfully. “We were trying to figure out something to do since we are not allowed to go outside into the town.”

“If you were dwarf children…” he began grumpily, but as he looked down into Elanor’s guileless blue eyes he checked what he was going to say. Samwise’s pretty daughter was not a dwarf-child, nor was the sturdy hobbit lad at her side. No, these were children to be protected from the seamier side of the town, he owned. “Ah… nevermind,” he waved the comment away then added, “I don’t suppose you two would be interested to know that Barliman’s collie is having her puppies as we speak in the stable?”

“Puppies?” Elanor perked up instantly.

Gimli nodded, “You’d better hurry. She could be done by now…”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” she exclaimed and stood on her tip toes to salute his hirsute and weathered cheek with a grateful kiss. “Come on, Fastred… before we’re too late!”

Pulling the lad by the hand, Elanor was off in an instant with her friend silently in tow.

“Gimli, I do believe you are growing sentimental,” mused Legolas, who was rarely far from his friend’s side.

“Humph!” he groused at the elf. “Do you always go around eavesdropping with those pointy ears of yours?”

Legolas laughed heartily and clapped a friendly hand on the dwarf’s shoulder, “Only on your conversations, my friend. Come, you must be hungry to be in such a dour mood. I think Merry and Pippin are already on second breakfast.”

“Now that you mention it…” he agreed. Still, as he accompanied his friend in search of food, the dwarf could not help but think about the sunny hobbit lass. What was it about delicate females with golden hair that turned him into a pile of mush?


When the hobbit children entered the stable, they found Nildë the puppy sitting in front of a stall watching the birth taking place inside with great interest, her black head cocked and tail wagging slowly.

“Good morning, Nildë!” greeted Elanor gaily.

The puppy looked up at her, wagging her tail mightily, and trotted over to paw her skirts.

“I think she wants you to pick her up,” suggested Fastred when the lass seemed curious at the pup’s behavior.

Upon leaning down to the small animal, Nildë readily went into the girl’s arms and settled there contentedly to continue watching Barliman’s collie and her puppies.

“I guess you were right,” Elanor grinned at her friend. “Oh look! The mama has four so far!”

The young trio became rapt in watching the miracle of birth taking place before their eyes, but kept a respectful distance, knowing animals are easily spooked. Unfazed by their interest, however, the collie sensed the children were no threat to her litter and went on about the task of birthing her pups with placid tolerance for their presence.

Fastred found them a couple of hay bales to sit on and they spent some time in the stable with the dogs, oblivious to all that went on around them.

People went in and out of the building on their business, hardly pausing to see what event had the hobbit children so enrapt.

So, when heavy steps stopped behind them and lingered, Fastred looked up over his shoulder, expecting to find his father or another one of the adults in their party.

He was startled then to discover a human boy about his own age looming behind Elanor’s back.

The hobbit lass had not spared any attention to the newcomer, and Fastred nudged her knee with his to make her aware. She looked at him questioningly and he gestured for her to look up behind her.

Jumping a little in her seat, Elanor tried quickly to recover her composure, but found it somewhat difficult.

The boy was tall, taller than Eldarion, and carried himself with brutish freedom. His expression was rather stupid and slack-jawed, but Elanor saw cunning and restlessness behind his pale, colorless eyes.

Instinctively she held Nildë closer to her and the puppy growled quietly at the intruder.

“Cute dog,” he said roughly and stuck out a stubby hand to pat the top of Nildë’s head.

Yet, the puppy sensed Elanor’s fear of him and snapped at the approaching hand. The boy drew back before she could bite, and Elanor pulled the little dog away from him as well, but his reaction was instantaneous.

Angrily, the boy tried to smack Nildë in retaliation and Elanor was instantly on her feet to keep the puppy out of his reach.

“Don’t you dare!” she said indignantly. “You startled her. She reacted the only way she knew how.”

“Because she’s a stupid animal!” he said threateningly and seemed intent on advancing towards them.

Fastred, however, had also stood and threw himself between Elanor and the boy.

“Why don’t you move on… friend?” he suggested mildly, though his stance was prepared to defend his friend.

“Why should you two get to take over here?” he challenged.

Elanor held on to her indignation, “We would’ve made a place for you, if you had asked nicely.”

Still sensing the anxiety in the girl’s voice, Nildë started barking to warn off the boy.

“Why should I have to ask? Shut that dog up!”

Again he moved towards Elanor and the puppy menacingly and Fastred planted himself right in front of them.

“Not another step.”

The boy stopped and gave Fastred the once-over. His laugh was a gruff bark as he said, “What? You think you’re going to take me on, dwarf-boy?”

Suddenly an arrow whistled through the stables, neatly missing the boy’s hand but close enough that he felt the burn of its passage. Startled he looked towards the door where Legolas was just lowering his bow and Gimli was calmly examining the blade of his axe.

“I would be more careful throwing around epithets, if I were you,” said Gimli nonchalantly. “Master Greenholm may be a tall lad, but it’s doubtful he’ll reach dwarf height.”

Seeing he was completely outnumbered, the boy said nothing more and ran out of the stable into the daylight.

“Coward…” Fastred mumbled to himself.

“I thought you two were going to stay out of trouble?” asked Gimli with an arched eyebrow.

“Truly, my lords,” the lad spoke up before Elanor could, “we were minding our own business. He just came in, made a lot of racket and then spooked the puppy…”

Elanor added, “And wasn’t very nice about it either!”

“It’s over now,” said Gimli philosophically. “But you, boy… you’d best take note of when you’re outmatched. It’s honorable to stand up for a lady, but that boy would’ve made mincemeat of you.”

Crossing his arms, Fastred answered, “Aw… I’m not scared of the likes of him, my lord. I have brothers, you know, and I know how to take care of myself.”

The dwarf was silent a moment, sizing the lad up much as the boy had earlier. Suddenly, he laughed heartily, “I just bet you do, young Fastred! Come on you two, before you find some more trouble to get into!”


Fortunately for Elanor and Fastred, Gimli and Legolas chose not to tell their fathers about the incident. The children stuck close to the common room the rest of the day, and by morning the entire party was back on the road.

They made good time and soon the company turned onto the road to Buckland and the Bridge. Elanor began to feel butterflies in her stomach, whether that was in anticipation of meeting the King and Queen or some lingering unsettled feeling about the encounter with the boy back in the stables in Bree, she was unable to distinguish.

Meriadoc could smell home in his nostrils and pushed the group onward as fast as he dared. The Master of Buckland enjoyed spending time traveling with his friends, but he missed his wife and infant son dreadfully and was ready to get back to them and his duties.

His task nearly complete, Eldarion minded not one way or the other how soon they arrived at the Bridge. His parents were still a day or so behind he believed, but he had no opposition to getting there early to prepare for their coming.

Now that Lady Aibreán was feeling better, Elanor had the supreme pleasure of riding with Eldarion on several occasions. Fastred had ridden behind the prince, but the horse’s equipage was light, without the high formal saddle usually favored by horsemen like the Rohirrim, so the hobbit lass was able to sit in front of the young man.

It was a fair day, crisp but not cold yet in the Shire – too warm still for snow in Hobbiton, if they even got any this year at all. Elanor remembered how golden the leaves were when they left all those weeks ago. Some still clung stubbornly to the branches, but most had fallen to the ground swept this way and that by an errant wind. There was much dry crunching under the horses’ hooves and Elanor smelled earth and mustiness as they stirred the sere piles in their path. She could not believe she had been gone so long!

As they rode up the lane to Meriadoc’s home Estella met them at the door, baby Rorimac squealing gleefully in his mother’s arms. He was off his pony in a trice and hastened up the lane to kiss his pretty wife soundly and cuddle with little “Rory.”

“My darling, we have unexpected guests,” he announced to her breathlessly. “What can we do to accommodate everyone?”

Estella’s eyes grew big to see the varied company that escorted her husband home. She might have expected Peregrine, Sam and Elanor, but there was also a small party of unknown hobbits, as well as men and even an elf and a dwarf!

“Meriadoc!” she gasped. “You could at least have given me some notice. I don’t have any rooms ready… and the larder isn’t even half stocked…”

“Do not put yourself out, Mistress,” Eldarion sketched a quick bow. “We have means to house and feed everyone here. My august parents will arrive within the next day, I believe, and we have supplies to set up pavilions for them. If we could just have permission to pitch our camp across the Bridge?”

“Your Highness, of course” Estella curtsied, charmed by the young man’s manners. “But Meriadoc will be of more assistance to you than I in that case. Is there anything in the meantime I might do for you?”

“Nothing for me personally, Mistress,” he answered. “But knowing my mother she will welcome a warm bath once she arrives. Would you mind preparing a space where she might retire to do so?”

“I would be delighted!”

Sam leaned over to Elanor, still perched atop Eldarion’s mount, “Elli, hop on down and help Mistress Estella. You may as well – this is what being a lady-in-waiting is about, my girl.”

“Yes, Papa,” said Elanor eagerly, swinging deftly onto the wagon and then leaping lightly to the ground. Finally, the time had come!


After that, the company scattered to their various tasks. Eldarion and his men set to making their own camp first and quickly had tents up and a large fire made for cooking. Despite Estella’s dismay over her empty larder, she still provided quite a bit for their supper, insisting they must eat more than just a watery stew and days’-old bread. Gratefully the men accepted her hospitality and enjoyed the excellent ale and roast chicken and fresh baked bread she offered.

They were soon back on their feet once dinner was over began to make short work of the accommodations for the Court of Annúminas. Everyone pitched into help. Even Fastred was pressed into service fetching and carrying.

In the meantime, Elanor went with Estella, alternately watching Rory while his mother was occupied with a task or sorting linens as the Mistress of Buckland directed. After several hours Estella was finally satisfied that the chambers they set up for the Queen would be “passable,” and Elanor collapsed in a hungry heap on the floor.

“You poor dear,” Estella exclaimed. “You’ve been working so hard, you haven’t eaten a morsel. Come, let us find you a little supper and then it’s off to bed you go. Tomorrow will prove to be an even busier day, I warrant!”

Agreeing with a sleepy nod, the hobbit girl followed her hostess down to the kitchen where she ate a hearty meal of dried meat, cheese and crusty bread. After her last gulp of cider, Estella sent Elanor up to bed – no use lying on the hard ground like the men, she told her – not when there was a perfectly decent little room overlooking the Bridge.

She made no protest and was grateful for the soft mattress after spending several days on horseback and bumping around in the wagon. Elanor sincerely hoped she would never have to get used to such things. She was asleep within moments of her head hitting the pillow.


-End of Chapter Thirteen-
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