Pippin heard a sharp knock.
"Oh, get the door, would you Merry?" he asked, sniffing the aroma rising from the pot. Merry groaned from his chair near the fire and shuffled over to the door of their cozy hobbit hole in Crickwater.
"Gandalf!" he cried in surprise.
Pippin, hearing this, hurried into the front room. "Gandalf! It's so good to see you! It's been far too long!"
The old wizard smiled and took off his hat. "Indeed it has my friends. We have not met in nearly three years. Not since you returned to the Shire."
"We were wondering why we hadn't heard from you, and where you had been!" exclaimed Merry. "But, come, time enough for news later. Please, sit down! Can I get you anything? I'm afraid Pippin and I have just finished dinner-"
"Not so hasty!" called Pippin from the kitchen. "I've got a potato soup here that even Sam Gamgee couldn't rival."
Gandalf chuckled as Merry scurried to the kitchen. He sat quietly, thinking of all the other times he had arrived unexpectedly at one of these charming hobbit holes, and of the food he was always offered, and of the adventures that always followed.
In a few moments Merry returned, carrying a generous serving of the soup. "Here you are." he said. And what will you have to -"
"Tea." Gandalf said, cutting him off before he could begin on the long list of beverages that was sure to follow.
Merry raised his eyebrows. "Very well then. Tea it is."
"My thanks for the most excellent soup, Master Peregrin." Gandalf said after he had finished, wiping his beard on his sleeve. "What did you do, steal one of Sam's recipes?"
"No indeed!" Pippin said indignantly. "Potato soup is a tradition in my family, dating back to my great-great-grandmother on my father's side who…"
Nearly half an hour later, Pippin finished his History of Potato Soup in the Took Family lecture and wondered why Merry was looking at him in astonishment. Then he realized that Gandalf had not once interrupted him or said this was no time for hobbit foolishness. He glanced quickly over at the wizard, half-expecting him to be asleep. But Gandalf was looking back at him with twinkling eyes.
"Well, Pippin, I do not think I will ever again doubt the genius of your father's great-great grandmother. And now," he looked over at Merry, "Now, tell me about yourselves. How did you find the Shire after your long absence?"
And so Merry and Pippin told Gandalf all the events of the past three years. How much he knew or guessed already they could not tell, but he seemed interested in all they had to say.
After they had completed their story, Gandalf spoke again. "And…how…how is Frodo? Is he well?"
"As well as ever, I expect." Merry said, somewhat surprised at Gandalf's tone. "With Sam living with him at Bag End, he can't want for much!"
Gandalf smiled faintly. "I wondered whether I ought to have come back sooner. But after all, I thought you hobbits were best left alone to deal with your own affairs. And things have turned out well." He looked away.
"What is the matter Gandalf?" asked Pippin, leaning forward. "And, where have you been, anyway?"
"Been? Many places. My aid was needed to heal hurts made by Sauron. The Shire was not the only country that was scoured by the war of the Ring. I have been to Mirkwood, and the Lonely Mountain, and many times to Gondor." His voice trailed off again. "Of course, not all wounds can be healed. Not even by me."
"Are you staying long with us? Or are you going on to Bag End? I'm sure Frodo would be delighted to see you." Merry said.
"I will stay the night here, if a bed my size can be found!" Gandalf smiled. "Then I will go on through the Shire. Frodo and I will meet again soon."
The next morning, Gandalf shared a leisurely breakfast with his hobbit hosts before calling Shadowfax, his faithful steed.
"Well, my friends." He said, stroking Shadowfax's neck. "Now we come to the real reason why I came to see you."
Merry and Pippin looked at each other and then back at him.
"In a few days, Frodo will be setting out for the Havens. You will want to be there, I expect. For after that, you will not see him again on this side of the Sea. Or this old wanderer."
The two hobbits could not speak. "But-Gandalf-" Pippin finally choked.
Gandalf held up his hand. "You will understand before long. But I would advise you to set out soon, if you wish to catch Frodo before he sets sail. Shadowfax must now bear me on my last journey-save one." He smiled gently at the hobbits, but they fancied they caught the glimmer of tears in his blue eyes.
"Gandalf," said Merry quickly, as he seemed about to ride off, "Gandalf, does Sam know?"
"Not yet. And the less he knows beforehand the better." He sighed. "That will be a bitter parting. But, I must be off. Farewell for the present!"
And with that, he mounted Shadowfax and rode off into the north, leaving two bewildered hobbits behind on their doorstep.
For a long moment they stood staring after him. Finally Pippin broke the silence.
"Well, Merry, should we get ready to leave?"
Merry looked at his friend. Fighting back tears, he reached out and clasped Pippin's shoulder.
"Yes. Let's."