Linda Hoyland gave me the prompt:- The weary travellers took shelter from the heat of the day beneath the branches of a mighty oak.
I don't own anything. The world, events and everyone in them belong to JRR Tolkien.
The four hobbits settled down together for a snack, after spending all morning being shown the town and Golden Hall by King Eomer. After their long journey from Gondor, followed by King Theoden's wake, it was a great relief to simply sit still, alone at last; just the four of them. The weary travellers took shelter from the heat of the day beneath the branches of a mighty oak, behind and a little above the palisade surrounding the hilltop. Meduseld perched upon a lonely mound in the centre of a broad plain so it looked as though an entire world was spread out before them.
"Where do you think they're going?" Pippin nodded to where Elrond and the new queen of Gondor were riding across the plain, toward the foothills of the surrounding mountains.
Frodo turned his head, finding Aragorn also watching from some distance away. "I think the lady and her father want some privacy to say their goodbye's."
"Goodbye's?" Merry frowned as he laid his head upon one raised knee. "I had forgotten that Aragorn would be leaving us here. Our fellowship is breaking again."
"As it should," Frodo murmured before taking a sip from the water flask Sam offered. "It has done what was needed and more."
"I don't reckon I want to think on us all partin' again. I shall miss Strider and I suppose Master Gimli and Legolas will be leavin' as well. I like Legolas. He's not so scary as some of them other elves." Sam craned his neck to look over the palisade at the elegant pavilions of Lothlorien and Rivendell below.
Frodo smiled. "Scary? I don't think we need be frightened of them. The elves know more than we because they have lived for longer, that is all."
Merry narrowed his eyes. "I don't suppose there's much scares you any more, cousin, but most elves still make me uneasy. I always get the impression that they know what I'm thinking even before I think it." He accepted the water flask from Frodo, taking a good swallow before passing it to Pippin.
Sam handed out chunks of bread and cheese. "I know what you mean, Mister Merry. Sometimes, when that Lady Galadriel looks at me, I feel like my head is some old mathom house and she's having a good old rummage around in it." He shuddered.
"Oh Sam," Frodo smiled. "I rather think that when you become as old as she, you have seen the same actions and behaviours played out so many times, that you come to know how people will react in any situation."
"I hadn't thought of it that way," Sam confessed. "Maybe that's why I like Master Legolas. He's not as old as some of them others, is he?"
Frodo chewed as he considered. "It may be. I have never considered his age but he does feel younger than Lord Elrond and most of the other elves."
Pippin washed down some cheese with a mouthful of water. "How can you tell? I bet he's still way older than us."
"Oh, I've no doubt he is. But he still finds so much in the world to delight him. Lord Elrond once told me that the main reason elves travelled West in the past, was because they became weary of this world. Not in the way of being tired after a long walk, but rather that they tire of seeing the same events play out over and over again." Frodo set down the remains of his bread, no longer hungry, and touched the warmth of Arwen's jewel against his breast.
"But won't they have the same people and events in the West too?" asked Pippin, simply.
Frodo shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe so. But now they have another reason to leave."
"What's that Mister Frodo?" Sam frowned as he collected up the remains of Frodo's meagrely unhobbit-like meal.
Frodo nodded to where Aragorn still stood, staring out across the plain. "Middle earth no longer belongs to them. They have helped to set things right and now they must stand aside to let others enjoy it."
Aragorn's head turned, his keen gaze finding Frodo's. No words were spoken but after a moment the King of Gondor shrugged straight his heavy mantle and turned back to his duties. Beneath the tree Frodo tried in vain to shrug off a duty ended, and stared longingly toward the western horizon.
END