CHAPTER ONE: The death of Gerontius
"I must be tired", thought Thelandan to himself, "I thought I just saw a Periannath run past my window. There have been no Periannaths in Imladris for many years."
Suddenly a shrill scream came to Thelandan's aging ears, and a sly smile spread slowly across his weathered face. His hearing was not what it once was, but even such a high pitched sound he could hear when it was half expected.
"Grimordel, dear, I think we have visitors. That sound's like one of our cultured neighbours has just laid their eyes for the first time on a Halfling!"
A fine featured but elderly woman stepped into the study where Thelandan was seated at his big oaken desk, which was covered with charts of far distant lands. She was elegant and yet powerful, even in her declining years. A woman who has the distant and hollow gaze of a warrior who has seen much death and bloodshed. This was a once mighty she-elf warrior, now living at peace in the twilight of her lifetime in the safety of her homeland.
"A Periannath, in Imladris? Right here in the city? That should raise some eyebrows", said Grimordel as she stole up behind Thelandan's chair and reaching over, gave him a light squeeze on the shoulder.
"Remember when we last visited Bree, and you simply insisted on going to the town of the Periannath, The Shire, to visit that old coot Gerontius. Why that must have been some thirty years ago now."
"Yes dear, I shall not soon forget the fuss you made on my return when you told me of the raiding band of Orcs that broke through the gate at Bree and you had to take up arms again. At your age. What were you then dear, 150 years old?"
"Not quite", laughed Grimordel dryly, "I was only 148, and not a day over. Anyway, those weren't just ordinary Orcs, they were those Uruks of Mordor."
"Silence woman!" snapped Thelandan gruffly, "Even in the safety of Imladris it is not wise to mention that land's name here. I'm going to see what fuss this Periannath has caused in the city, and maybe learn of its errand."
"Would you like me to prepare a room?" asked Grimordel, who was used to unexpected visitors dropping in on them. Some would stay overnight, and others would stay much longer.
"No dear. I'm sorry I snapped. This is a Halfling, not a Dwarf. He will find welcome lodging with any one of our enlightened neighbours. Your services will not be required this time."
Thelandan patted Grimordel's arm in a gesture that, while comforting, was also a signal that he wanted to get up without knocking her onto the floor with his great leather chair. At their age, both Thelandan and Grimordel had become very understanding of each other's weaknesses. When she had stepped back, he swung his chair away from his desk and, gathering up his cloak from the hook, made for the door.
"Do watch out for wains on the road Thelandan, the streets are busy at this time of day."
Thelandan caught the twinkle in Grimordel's eye, "Silence wench" he flicked back jovially, "and have my dinner ready for me when I return." Thelandan knew he was as likely to find his meal sitting beside Karn's bowl on the front doorstep with that quip, so he hurried off on his way.
Stepping into place as quickly beside him as his shadow, the wolf-cub sprang from his resting place on the deer-hide that lay on the porch. Thelandan and Karn had been inseparable since he found the cub in the Fell Winter of 2911. At nine years old, Karn was still a relatively young wolf, but not quite a cub any more. Karn was orphaned in an attack of the White Wolves upon Imladris when their pack crossed the Baranduin River which froze over during the Fell Winter. Thelandan, at over 170 years old, was starting to feel the weight of the years upon him, and the hole that had been left in his heart at the loss of his only son Thorandan some 140 years earlier was never truly healed. So when he came across a young wolf-cub left behind by the defeated White Wolves, all alone in the ice and snow, he took it home as a surrogate. He never openly mentioned Thorandan's name in connection with Karn to Grimordel, as she had her own grief for their son, and no replacement would ever do. Sometimes he even denied to himself that there was any connection.
Thelandan and Karn walked up the cobbled street to the town square, with Karn sniffing the breeze and panting lightly all the way. He knew that this was the wrong way to be going if they were going to collect rabbits. He was, in fact, quite an intelligent animal. A throng of people up ahead led Thelandan to the place where the Periannath had come: right on the door-step of the great library of Imladris. Thelandan saw towering above the sea of faces the features of Ellandan, one of Elrond's two sons.
"…and he's not got much time left for this world", gasped the voice of the Hobbit from the middle of the ring of people that had gathered to see what the commotion was about. The little person had obviously been running for a long time, perhaps since Bruinen, for there were said to be Orcs upon the slopes of Hithaeglir, and so it is well that this Periannath had given them the slip with his haste. Thelandan remembered the speed and quietness of foot of Periannaths he had met in the past, and so was not surprised at this in the slightest. Thelandan made his way through the crowd, which separated for him easily at seeing Karn at his heels.
"Someone bring this boy something to drink, quickly, he has travelled far", said Thelandan authoritatively, taking control of the situation. Then, addressing the Periannath, he asked, "What is your name, lad, and what brings you to Rivendell?"
"Sir, my name is Ham Gamgee", said the young Hobbit, "I come in search of two people at the behest of a dying Hobbit, a great Hobbit of renown. He asked to see these friends of his one last time before he passed on.
"What be the name of this Hobbit of renown, and what be the name of his friends?" inquired Thelandan, half suspecting the answer already.
"It is Gerontius, known as the Old Took, that is dying, and he seeks council with Mithrandir and Thelandan before he dies", the Hobbit replied as he reached greedily for the cup that someone from the crowd had proffered him.
"You have brought this message all the way from The Shire, young man, and I am grateful to you, for I am Thelandan of whom you seek. Of the whereabouts of Mithrandir I cannot speak, for he is a traveler, as I once was, and may at this very time be as close as Bree or as far as Minas Tirith, or anywhere in the woods and plains between."
"Mithrandir is here", interjected Ellandan, who spoke up for the first time since Thelandan arrived amongst the crowd. "He is at home with father, having arrived just last night."
"Thank you for your tiding, master Ellandan", said Thelandan, and, turning back to Ham the Hobbit, "Come with me then, young lad, and together we will beseech Mithrandir for an audience on behalf of old Gerontius."
As the old Dúnedain and the Halfling where shown into the presence of Elrond and Mithrandir, the young Hobbit's eyes grew wider at the wonder of the House he had entered. For this was a place older than any he had seen before, almost as if it were built when all around was flat plains, and that the heights of Hithaeglir, the Misty Mountains, had grown up around it.
When they were still a ways off from the pair, Ham asked, "I have heard of Lord Elrond before, but who is this Mithrandir?"
"If you have heard of Elrond, then you must know of his great age. Mithrandir is older yet still. He is an Istari, or a wizard in the Common Speech. Neither of them are to be trifled with. Hush now, and let me address them. It is good that you found me first", replied Thelandan, as they approached the two great men. It seemed as if Elrond and Mithrandir were in the middle of a heated exchange, and Thelandan knew diplomacy was needed before he could broach the issue of Gerontius.
"My Lord Elrond, and Mithrandir Stormcrow, pardon the intrusion if you will", announced Thelandan. Quickly Elrond placed a heavy red woven tapestry over the table that Mithrandir and he were standing beside, but not before Thelandan caught sight of a marvellous ring, along with what looked like a small shiny dot or star, a royal sceptre, and a broken sword. These Thelandan recognized immediately as the heirlooms of the King's house: the ring of Barahir, the star of Elendil, the sceptre of Annúminas, and the shards of Narsil. He did not speak of them, as he knew that it was a closely guarded secret that they were kept at Imladris when not in use, and not in Annúminas, the City of Kings.
"Thelandan, welcome. I had not heard that our Mithrandir was using his powers to provide children for grieving parents now", said Elrond on noticing the Halfling at Thelandan's side. "Was this once that mutt that used to follow you everywhere?"
"This is none of my doing Elrond", quipped Mithrandir, "If I had been involved I would at least have gotten the mix of Númenoeran and Elvish blood right. Never before have I seen a Periannath as the result of such a mix of the races. Who is your young friend Thelandan?" the wizard asked.
"My Lords, may I introduce Ham Gamgee of The Shire. He has travelled a long way alone to seek council on behalf of our old friend Gerontius. It seems his time has finally come. He is asking after Mithrandir and myself. We must go at once."
"Steady on", replied Mithrandir. "Being around this young Hobbit has renewed your vigour; I will say that much for you Thelandan. Young man, when did the Old Took take sick? I saw him last only a few short months ago for his 130th birthday."
"Uh, uh", stammered Ham, "Uh, it would have been, uh, about last Thursday my Lord."
"No need to be afeared of me, young pup. I'm not going to turn you into a squirrel if you say something wrong. You may call me Gandalf."
"Gandalf!" exclaimed Ham, "I thought I recognised you. You used to come to the Old Took's place every Midsummer's Eve with your magic rockets that would light up the night sky! But why do they call you Mithrandir?"
"That is my name in Quenya, the high tongue of the Elves. It is a language not used much these days, save by the High-Elves such as our Lord Elrond. In the same language we call this place Imladris that you call Rivendell." Gandalf paused for a moment in thought. "Thelandan, can you provide lodging for our young friend here overnight. I have much to discuss with Elrond by the light of the Moon, and early tomorrow we shall make for the Shire together."
After they said their farewells and Thelandan and Ham had departed, Mithrandir took up again the conversation he was having with Elrond before they were interrupted. "I have searched everywhere, through the treasuries of ancient houses and in the scrolls of lore from libraries throughout Gondor, Harodor, and even secretly in Mordor itself. I have risked my neck time after time to find it. Rohan has no mention of it either, it just seems to have completely disappeared from history itself!"
"No!" replied Elrond emphatically, "It must be somewhere. It is enchanted and will not just disappear or fade away through the ravages of time, rust, and corrosion. When it is found it will be as solid and true as the rest of them."
"Then it must be right under our very noses here in Eriador, Elrond. I go tomorrow to see Gerontius. It seems plausible that if it is in Eriador, then perhaps an elderly and well travelled Periannath is just as likely to have heard of it as anyone else."
"If he has his wits about him enough to remember. Go with my blessing, Mithrandir, and may your search be fruitful. I don't have to tell you how valuable that last one is. I will provision you myself for your travels with Thelandan. And take care of him. He is old and feeble now too. You will find a wain and horse laden and waiting for you at dawn."
The next morning there was a rap on the door as Grimordel was clearing away the breakfast dishes. "That will be Mithrandir now, are you two ready to go?" called Grimordel as Ham wandered into the room with his pack on his back and a good stout stick in his hand. His cloak was already fastened, for there was a light rain about, and grey clouds hung low in the valley.
"I'm all set to go ma'am", said the Hobbit, "and a hearty thanks to you for your hospitality and generosity to a stranger."
"She's used to doing this", said Thelandan as he walked quickly into the room from another door, "Whenever Dwarves visit our fair land, Grimordel goes into instant hospitality mode. She lived with them for 40 years or so in the area South of Ered Luin, and met King Thrain II and his son Thorin there. As you may know, there is not much love lost between the Elves and the Dwarves, so my Grimordel acts as the Emissary of the Elves to the Dwarves. It was nothing new for us to have unexpected company in our home. That is why we live in what was once an inn."
Another rap, louder this time, came from the door, "Are you awake yet Thelandan? Or has the magic of the Hobbits worked its way on you overnight, such that you must have two breakfasts in the morning before starting the day?" called Mithrandir from outside.
As they departed from Imladris, following the Bruinen path through the valley, Mithrandir and Thelandan regaled Ham with tales of their travels and adventures with Gerontius when he was younger, and even of his ancestor Bandobras Took, who slew a whole band of Orcs in the Northfarthing when Thelandan was just a boy. Ham was impressed by the longevity of the Dúnedain and the Istari, "I thought the Old Took was old. You people were even around to meet his Gaffer!"
"Not for much longer for myself, though", said Thelandan, "But as for Gandalf, nobody knows how old he is, and he will not say. I have tried."
Karn was much more in his element today, and was constantly stopping behind the wain to sniff the ground and the air around him. Suddenly the hair on the back of his neck raised and he stopped in the middle of the path. Ham almost walked straight into him.
"There can't be Orcs on this path", said Mithrandir, "it's much too well travelled. They stay up in Hithaeglir, where they can hide in the caves and bushes, there is no cover for them here."
"No, but there is enough cover for a coney", replied Thelandan, watching the wolf-cub stealthily moving in for the kill. Just as he was about to pounce the rabbit took fright from something behind it and ran from the bushes straight towards the wolf-cub, hitting Karn squarely on the nose with its hind legs as it suddenly changed direction to avoid the newly espied danger, then tearing off in an entirely different direction to the safety of some unseen burrow. Poor Karn gave a yelp and ran quickly back under the safety of the wain, with his tail between his legs. The whole incident took a matter of seconds, and appeared so comical that all three travellers burst into laughter together, spooking the horse that was tethered to the wain. Mithrandir had to pull sharply on the reins to recover control of the frightened beast, lest the wain and all its provisions be scattered from here to the Ford.
"Well, the mighty hunter could still be of use to us", said Mithrandir when he had recovered, and had wiped the tears from his eyes from laughing so hard, "If we are beset upon by Orcs on the way, perhaps we could offer them wolf-flesh to eat instead of man-flesh!"
"No-one's eating my Karn", spat back Thelandan, defensive as ever of his trusty friend, "he may not be the best hunter in Eriador, but he is intelligent and loyal to his friends, unlike some!"
The remainder of the trip from Imladris to the Shire was relatively uneventful. Eventually Mithrandir, Thelandan, Ham, and the ever-faithful Karn arrived at Bree, where Mithrandir decided to stop for a spell. They rested at The Prancing Pony, an old inn that has been kept by the family of Mithrandir's friends, the Butterbur's, from time beyond record. Here Mithrandir is known as Gandalf, and he and the rest of the group were warmly welcomed by the innkeeper, (all except Karn, who had to wait outside). They found a table in a dark corner and downed an ale, while Gandalf went and spoke at length with Barliman Butterbur about recent goings-on in the Shire and the surrounding area. If one wants to get information, a tavern such as The Prancing Pony is as good a place as any. Thelandan was eager to leave and get to old Gerontius before his end, but Gandalf did not seem to be in any hurry, almost as if he had some hidden knowledge of exactly when the Old Took would pass away. Thelandan was about to send Ham to find Gandalf when the old wizard returned to their table with plates and another round of ales. "This one is on the house, courtesy of Barliman. He's a good sort, and pleasant enough when you get to know him."
When they had finished their meal, Gandalf took the last piece of meat from his plate, wrapped it in paper, and handed it to Ham, saying "Off you go, take this to Karn, will you boy, he deserves something to eat too."
"Oh no you don't!" said Thelandan in mock anger, "You're not fattening him up to feed to the Orcs!"
"I would never", retorted Gandalf, with a hurt look on his face, "I'm quite fond of him really."
"I know, you old coot. What are you still waiting for Ham? Off you go, there's a good lad."
When Ham had left the table, Gandalf moved closer to Thelandan and lowered his voice. "I guess you want to know why we're here", he said quietly.
"Well, the thought had crossed my mind", replied Thelandan, lowering his voice to match Gandalf's secretive tone.
"I'm making some enquiries about the Shard. I intend to ask Gerontius as well, before he leaves us."
"The Shard!" exclaimed Thelandan in what can only be described as a shouted whisper, "I thought that was safely found in the treasury at Minas Tirith."
"No, I have just returned from there. They have a shard, but not The Shard, the missing Shard of Narsil. Theirs is completely worthless, although I didn't tell the Steward that, of course. Elrond has stepped up the hunt for the missing Shard, as he believes the time of reforging is at hand, and that Narsil will once again be wielded by a descendant of Isildur. Of course that will be impossible if all the pieces are not together."
"All the pieces of what?" chipped in Ham, who had just returned from the front door.
"Never you mind young man", said Gandalf, "It is time we were going."
Their party grew substantially at the gates of Bree, as a number of Hobbits were making their way back home to Hobbiton, and asked to travel with the wain. This was more for the comfort of having their packs carried on the wain than for their protection, mind you. There was much singing and storytelling on the final leg of their journey, but Thelandan was quiet, pondering what Gandalf had told him. On the fourth day after they left Imladris, the company arrived at Hobbiton and parted with Ham and their friends that they had met in Bree. Ham had promised to bring them to The Shire, and having done as he was bidden, was released to return to his own home. Of course, there was much fuss made of Karn at the parting, for Karn and Ham had become good friends. It was getting late in the afternoon, and Thelandan asked Gandalf if they should find an inn before nightfall.
"No, we must push on to Tuckborough", replied Gandalf brusquely, suddenly showing more interest in the lateness of the hour as far as Gerontius' life was concerned than for the failing of the light.
"Excuse me good sirs, may I travel with you, for I have an errand in Greater Smials which calls my attention this very evening", a voice said from behind them. They turned around to see who it was.
"Greetings, good sirs, I am Bilbo Baggins of Bagshot Row", said a fine specimen of a Hobbit, bowing courteously. He looked to be about 30 years old.
"Ah, young master Baggins, I remember you, son of Belladonna Took and Bungo Baggins, if I am not mistaken", said Gandalf, "We're off to visit your Gaffer. I am Gandalf the Grey, and this is Thelandan the Dúnedain warrior. Join us, please do."
"Thank you", replied Bilbo as he fell into step with the company, "Yes, the whole family is gathering there again tonight, for it is said that the Old Took may not last through the night. Although, we've been there for the last four nights, as he was due to pass on at any stage."
"He's been waiting for us to arrive first!" remarked Thelandan, thinking of how uncanny it was that Gandalf should know exactly to the day when to leave for The Shire. "Do not worry, his end will be short and peaceful, and he will not tarry now that we are here."
"Your words, while seeming callous and harsh, are a welcome relief to my ears, for the stress on the whole family over the last week has be enormous. We Baginses don't oft mix with our adventuresome Took relatives, and it has been difficult, to say the least, staying in close confines with them, particularly in the old shabby rooms of the Great Place of the Tooks. It was once considered a mansion among the Smials, but it is unkempt and falling into disrepair. We Baginses believe it is because the Tooks spend so much of their time away from home, wandering on some wild adventure or other that the house is so run down."
They travelled on as the sun set behind them, and all the way Bilbo was asking questions about far distant lands and the places that these two weary travellers had seen and the peoples they had met. Gandalf started to suspect that Bilbo secretly didn't share his relatives' dislike of adventure. When they reached the Great Place of the Tooks, they found wains out front and people milling about, with horses untethered in the field next to the house. It looked as if a party were going on. Gandalf went straight inside with Bilbo, while Thelandan took care of their wain, horse, and provisions.
When Thelandan entered the house, he was guided by one of the Took children to the room where Gerontius lay. He passed room after room of Hobbits, great and small, with their makeshift beds and gear all laid out.
"Last time I was here it wasn't this busy", remarked Thelandan, remembering the huge empty house with Gerontius living in one small room of it.
"The whole family is here for the reading of the Will, once the Gaffer dies", replied the urchin. There's nothing quite like the disarming honesty of youth, thought the old Dúnedain warrior.
"Thelandan, good to see you my old friend", croaked Gerontius as Thelandan stooped to enter the room.
"Quiet now papa, save your breath", said one of his daughters soothingly to the Old Took.
"My breath's all but used up", replied the old Hobbit, "Come on now, out, all of you. I want to speak with Gandalf and Thelandan alone."
"As you wish, but take it easy, don't overdo it", said the daughter, who seemed to be some sort of spokesperson for the family. Those who were in the room shuffled out, leaving Gandalf, Thelandan, and Gerontius alone.
"Vultures!" groaned Gerontius, "Half of them I've never met in my entire 130 years", he paused, taking a breath, "Many of them I wouldn't want to meet anyway, yet they are all here to get a piece of me when I go."
Gerontius took a few shallow, rasping breaths before he continued, "My friends, I've asked you to come to help me with one small matter that I could only entrust to you."
The frailty of this once great Hobbit was hard to bear for Thelandan, yet he knew for his friend's sake that he must be strong, just as they had been in their youth. "What do you want this time, you Old Took? You're not up to a trip to Rivendell, even on the back of our wain, so there's no escaping your kinfolk that way."
Gandalf seemed to be keeping up the solid front also, as a sign of respect for their friend, "And I'm not using my powers to turn them all into flies for you to swat them away before you leave us, sorry!"
"No, no, nothing like that", rasped the Old Took, "I want you both to take care of my interests for me." He took a few short breaths. "I want you to fairly distribute my wealth among my family." He paused again; they let him have his say. "I have tried writing a Will, but I can never decide who should get what." There was a long pause. "If I give this to one family member then another will be put out." He coughed, and a voice from behind the door called to see if everything was alright. "I'm fine, I'm only dying, don't worry", called Gerontius in return. He turned back to his friends, "Please, help me. I've written a final Will that names the both of your as heirs of everything I own. Could you do this for me?"
It was all that Thelandan could do to keep that brave face, and not let his true feelings out. "I don't believe it", he said to Gandalf, "The Old Took has finally shown his true colours, right here on his deathbed. And his colour is YELLOW! I would never have taken Old Gerontius, the brave adventurer of Hobbiton, for a yellow, lily-livered scardy-cat!"
"It would seem so", said Gandalf, also trying hard to hide the moisture rising in his eyes, "He would face hordes of Orcs like his famous ancestor Bandobras did, but can't stomach the thought of a little group of is own progeny, the fruit of his loins!"
"Come on guys, give an old timer a break", rasped Gerontius, "I don't want to be remembered as the Gaffer that caused outright war between the Tooks and the Baginses."
"Old timer? Who are you calling old?" replied Thelandan, "You're fifty years younger than me, and your guess is still as good as mine as to Gandalf's age."
"It was ever thus", said Gerontius, "So, will you do it?"
"Of course we will", said Gandalf, "If you want to cover your tracks one last time, we're here to help you do it. It is a great honour to do such for a wonderful friend. Rest now, Gerontius, you have earned it."
"Yes, rest Gerontius", chipped in Thelandan. Gerontius closed his eyes.
"Hey, where's that mutt of yours, Thelandan?" said Gerontius, with his eyes still closed.
"I left him out on the porch."
"Go bring him in; I'd like to see him one last time too."
"Okay, I'll be right back", said Thelandan, getting up from his seat beside the Old Took's bed.
When he had left the room, Gerontius opened his eyes again, and looked up at Gandalf. "He's been a good friend, Gandalf, you both have. If I could ask one last thing of you, it would be that you grant him his wish", there was a pause while Gerontius took another shallow breath, "and return to him and Grimordel that which was lost in Dale."
"I can't promise to bring back Thorandan, but maybe I can do something for them. Here he comes now with that silly mutt, maybe I could extend it's life for them."
As he entered, Thelandan could see that it was already too late. Gandalf was just reaching up to close the Old Took's eyes. Thelandan and Gandalf both let their defences down and tears were shed in that room, possibly the only real honest tears for Gerontius that were shed in that house that day.
It took the magic of a wizard, the might of a Dúnedain warrior, and the savagery of a White Wolf-cub to dispel the riot that came at the reading of the Will. Any two alone may not have been equal to the task. There were murmurings that the two friends of Gerontius had forced him to sign a bedside change of Will so that they could take all his wealth. This was only dispelled when both Gandalf and Thelandan promised before all the assembled family members that they would leave The Shire not a single coin richer, and that everything would be shared out evenly amongst the Old Took's descendants. They buried the Old Took in the Smials, and Gandalf and Thelandan did a forthright job of divvying up amongst his family the spoils and treasures, the home, land and property that Gerontius had amassed or had received from his forefathers. Many a grumble was heard, but no war broke out between the rival factions. When all was done, they loaded up their wain for the return trip. They were accompanied by Bilbo as far as Bree, who set about again asking questions of far distant lands, places, and peoples.
"So, what did he say?" asked Thelandan as soon as they were alone on the trail leading back toward the Ford of Bruinen.
"About what?" asked Mithrandir.
"The Shard. Did he know where it is?" asked Thelandan, lowering his voice, for one never knew if the trees had ears in these parts.
"No, leastways if he did, he couldn't remember. I don't hold that against him. Chances are he may never have known anyway. It was a long shot."
All the way back to Imladris, Thelandan and Mithrandir spoke of their good friend Gerontius and the times they had spent together. They were in no hurry to return, and the return trip took them half as long again as the first trip took. It was a totally uneventful trip, except to say that Karn was well fed, on two fat coneys he caught by the side of the path.
"Is he gone?" asked Grimordel when they arrived back safely at home.
"Yes, he has left us at last", answered Mithrandir.
"I bet the family will be sad", she said, much to both of the men's mirth.
"I'm sure they will be dear", said Thelandan, knowing of his wife's great love and respect for family relationships.
"Well, I must be on my way", said Mithrandir, "But before I do, won't you invite a weary traveller in for a drink. We can toast the memory of Gerontius together one last time."
"Please, do come in Mithrandir", said Grimordel, "I would like that."
Mithrandir pulled a large silver goblet from his sack on the back of the wain. "We'll use this, if you please." It was a splendid challis, with Certar runes engraved about its rim, in a language that neither Thelandan nor Grimordel could make out. The secret language of the ancient Valar.
Mithrandir, Thelandan, and Grimordel went inside and sat in the great hall, in front of the hearth, the embers of which were still glowing warmly. It was a cosy home, more used to having large numbers of guests than as an empty abode for two old folks to putter around in. Grimordel brought in a draft and poured it into the goblet that Mithrandir held out.
"To Gerontius, the Old Took. To friendship, camaraderie, and respect", intoned Mithrandir. He passed the goblet to Thelandan, who took a deep swig. The goblet was passed on to Grimordel, who likewise took a deep swig. She passed it back to Mithrandir, who just at that time exclaimed "Good gracious me, the horse! The poor horse has been tied to that wain all this time. I must go free him or he will refuse to work for me ever again." And with that, Mithrandir quickly departed, taking the goblet with him. Neither Thelandan nor Grimordel noticed that the goblet never touched Mithrandir's lips.
