The Simple Ways of Hobbits
Summery: A short interlude in which Éowyn gets to know the hobbits a mite better over food, drink and gossip.
Disclaimer: Alas, but no incarnations, characters, or whatnot related to Lord of the Rings belong to me. Who would want all that money anyway?
Dedication: To my Shieldmaiden, my beta, and my friend. This is about as close as I'll ever get to a romance. Happy Birthday!
"My lady Éowyn! What brings you here?" Startled out of her thoughts by a jovial voice, the White Lady of Rohan suddenly found herself walking side by side with Meriadoc of the Shire, the hobbit whom she had become great friends with on her adventures of the past months. Before his hail, she had been restlessly winding her way through the upper levels of Minas Tirith for a large portion of the morning, unsure of what she would find but delighting in the search. The great Lords of the Western Lands were deep in council with ambassadors from foreign lands offering tribute and loyalty to the reawakened power. They had no time for her needs, nor did she want pity's privilege, but she longed for something just beyond the city's protective gates.
"These vast city walls, as imposing and impressive as they may be, have begun to weigh on my heart. I long to see the green fields of my homeland and feel the brisk wind on my face. I had hoped to find a place to remind me of all that is good and free in Rohan," she answered. Strong of heart, the White Lady found even confinement within the beautiful halls of Minas Tirith chaffing to her spirit but understood her duty to remain by her brother's side. Her duties also included seeing to the men of the Mark that had fought valiantly in the Great Battles and who looked to her coming in the Houses of Healing and each day.
Merry nodded his head with an understanding grimace on his face. "Cities are no place for a hobbit either, my lady, at least not for me or my companions. Perhaps you would like to accompany me. My cousins and Sam have apparently set up luncheon in the small lawn not far from here. We would be honored if you would bless us with your presence."
Smoothing her skirts, Éowyn smiled and looked down. What mirthful, simple beings hobbits seemed to be! Even after everything that they had endured and accomplished only they would be able to properly cherish the healing properties of a homely meal. "I would not want to impose," she declined politely, "but send my regards to everyone."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Merry, a peculiar light of mischievousness and wisdom in his eyes. Slipping his hand into hers, he tugged on it gently. "Really, I do insist."
His hand was so light in hers that she could have easily disengaged herself and with a final courtesy, disappeared into the white walls of the citadel. However, Éowyn found herself disinclined to let go. With a joyful laugh she allowed herself to be led to the shining green. "I do not think that I would be able to find it in my heart to decline your wishes completely, Meriadoc, even if I could find the want to."
"Nor could I decline your wishes," Merry replied promptly, but with utter conviction.
Their stroll to the lawn was completed in a silence which gave Éowyn the chance to review in her mind the way that the hobbits, Meriadoc in particular, had made a place in her heart. Though she had merely been introduced to the two hobbits who had traversed the wasteland of Mordor, she remembered her startling first impressions of them. The older of the two, the Ringbearer, reminded her of the great, bright stars that shone with a kind light upon Meduseld. He had bowed his head to her as she passed in the banquet hall, but his eyes held an echoing distance and a contentment that she had never seen before. She had not been able to look into the eyes of the other hobbit, downcast respectfully as they were before she passed by, but the tenseness with which he held himself reminded her of herself when she was young and did not enjoy large courts with fine dignitaries.
Merry: dearest to her of all the hobbits and kindred to her heart, she remembered his expression when telling her of how his young cousin had been spirited away to Minas Tirith for his own safety that fateful night on the great plain. The was no rancor in his voice to any party as they spoke softly to one another as to hold of fear of the coming battle, only love and concern for Peregrin's safety as vast as the starry veil above their heads. She imagined his shuddering as he thought of what horrors could still befall his cousin on the road and his inability to offer any protection other than fervent wishes. Éowyn remembered silently adding her own thoughts of protection and speed to Gandalf and his charge, awed by the devotion she saw in Merry's eyes.
"Hoy, Merry! It's about time you found your way here! Frodo wouldn't let us start without you," a voice hailed as they stepped into the light of a clear, warm day. "Oh!" with an embarrassed smile, Pippin realized that he cousin did not come alone. "Hello, Lady Éowyn. Have you come to join us?"
"I have indeed, at the insistence of your very persuasive cousin. I am sorry for detaining him and keeping you from your feast," she said, for a feast it seemed to her eyes.
And Peregrin: their first meeting had brought her laughter that she had thought she would never experience again. Such a joyous spirit, he had been more than eager to answer any questions she had about Lord Faramir. She thought of his constant interruptions into his own stories and his humorous editorials of events. The parting words he had given her would stay with her to the end of her life, innocent and encouraging as they were. "It is nice to see you smiling again, Lady," he had said, blushing, "I think you are much prettier that way."
The garden which the picnic had been placed in was beautiful in its simplicity, like many things in Minas Tirith. An emerald lawn ran down a gently sloping hill to a marble railing which protected the unwary from the fall to the lower level. A turreted fountain of white stone flowed merrily on Éowyn's left, gifting the area with soft music a playful patterns of reflected sunlight on the stonework. Along the walls and railing flowerbeds of soft red, blue and green highlighted the oasis with calm radiance. Laying upon the grass was a dark-haired figure that lifted its head lazily at Pippin's commotion.
Upon seeing Éowyn, he immediately rose and trotted over to another figure who was crouched down and busily arranging platters and utensils for the afternoon meal. Tapping Sam lightly on the shoulder, Frodo whispered something to him and spared a glance in the White Maiden's direction. Sam nodded and rose, a blush already on his face and his hands clasped self-consciously behind his back. Together they came to where Merry and Éowyn had been accosted by Pippin, both executing a small bow in the presence of the Rohirric woman.
"I didn't think you would mind if Lady Éowyn joined us," Merry explained, "and I thought it might be a chance for you and Sam to hear a bit more about Rohan, since I don't think Pippin or I can truly do it justice."
"It would be my pleasure to tell you about my homeland," Éowyn answered wistfully, still immersed in the glory of her surroundings.
"And ours to hear your words," Frodo said, obviously pleased. "Perhaps the Lady would be willing to help us finish the mounds of food Sam insisted upon bringing with us?"
Éowyn laughed again, delighted with the easy manner that seemed a trait of all hobbits. "It would be my great pleasure to break bread with such great company. Perhaps you will be willing to tell me stories of your land as well."
"Oh, I can think of some wonderful stories to tell," interjected Pippin, sending a malicious glance in Merry's direction. "In return for the wonderful tales Merry felt necessary to tell Bergil and Beregond of the Tower Guard. I am sure there are many tales I, or Frodo, could tell which Lady Éowyn would dearly love to hear."
The stricken look on Merry's face only disappeared when he was led to the food, rolls and fruits pilled in baskets, wine and water in fine crystal decanters, and a steaming concoction of fish and spices. It would not be absent for long.
"--and of course he didn't realize that all his father had to do was follow the footsteps into the parlor, only to find him hiding in the linen closet! There was mud on every clean sheet in Brandy Hall, which is quite a few mind you, and Merry was so upset he could barely speak. It took myself, Bilbo, and Uncle Saradoc over an hour to convince him to come out and that we would not let his mother drive him off to Tookland to live forever."
"A fate worse than death, I assure you."
"Do not attempt to bait me, Meriadoc Brandybuck. Besides all that, I don't believe you ever even told me that story, my dearest cousin. I can't possibly imagine why."
Discreetly hiding an impolite grin behind her hand, Éowyn relaxed in her new found companionship. What had begun as a story about her exploits in cajoling her brother to teach her the ways of the sword had expanded to frightful stories about loved ones and the trouble they caused. Unfortunately, poor Merry had found himself being accosted by both of his cousins' reminisces of his less-than-savory childhood exploits.
"Such an attack on my person would not normally go unchallenged," Merry rebutted, "but luckily for you I am of too high an esteem to stoop to such levels. Besides, I'm sure Sam knows more horrible stories about Frodo than even I could."
Puttering nearby and restocking a tray with more sweet rolls, Sam turned at the mention of his name. "I think I'd better stay out, lest one of you get the grand idea of telling stories about me, if you don't mind Master Merry."
"The wisest council I have heard this afternoon," said Éowyn. "I think I shall join you in your neutrality."
Merry smirked, not willing to be outmatched by Sam, and took another bite of an apple. "After all, there's nothing humorous about a certain gardener, who will remain unnamed in present company, with eyes for a certain lovely lass, who's name may perchance be Rosie Cotton."
Éowyn's expression softened as Sam's face grew fiercely red and he turned away to busy himself with something, anything that needed doing. Frodo smiled at his servant, and Éowyn saw in his gaze tenderness and care before he cuffed his impertinent cousin on the shoulder. "Enough of your audacity, or do you want me to tell another story?"
"No, no!" Merry exclaimed, holding his hands up in surrender and drowning out Pippin's cries to the contrary, "or Lady Éowyn will have my commission revoked and I will find no peace in Rohan."
"The four of you will always find peace in Rohan, though you will never bring it, I fear," Éowyn rejoined. "For you loved my uncle as a father, Meriadoc, and saw him in the greatest of his days. Any that you would call friend I shall also."
"I hear that you may not be returning to Rohan, my lady," Pippin interrupted. "I thought you were going to stay with Lord Faramir."
This time it was Éowyn's chance to blush while Merry muttered indistinctly about childish impudence. Frodo merely raised his eyebrows and laughed. "It seems that Sam is not the only one to tell stories of. Lord Faramir is a valiant, honest man, my Lady. He would be lucky to have you. Wouldn't you agree, Sam?"
"Yes, sir. He's got a character to be proud of, that's to be certain. I can't say I thought much of him when we first met, but he certainly proved himself worthy of trust. I don't know what that's got to do with anything else, but there it is."
"Lord Faramir is," Éowyn took a breath, somehow knowing her confidence would be kept, "kind and understanding, strong and caring. There is much to admire in him."
"And much to love?" Merry asked, his expression serious and hopeful.
As if coming to terms with her heart's words for the first time, the White Lady turned to Merry and answered, "Yes. I do love him."
"I think Lord Faramir is a very lucky man," Pippin said, looking at the cerulean sky with deep thought. Whisps of clouds played on the wind as he added, "Rosie Cotton too, if it ever comes to that."
Éowyn smiled, looking at Merry. He had turned to watch his contemplative cousin with a happy, carefree countenance. Gone were the lines of worry and tragedy she had come to know upon his face. She turned to see Sam offering his Master yet another sweet roll and the Ringbearer's exclamation about the number which he had already finished off. They were safe, and alive, with a brighter future ahead of them. She could only see wondrous times in store for them all and could only hope to play some small part in them.
"Yes, I believe we are all very lucky, indeed," she said, and relaxed in the blooming Spring with a light heart and hope for the times to come.