Scions of the Third Age

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