Scions of the Third Age

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-