As Merry and Sam walked into the dining room, Uncle Pippin lifted the lid
from an enormous dish filled with steaming chips. Merry looked around,
expecting to see tension still between the other children. Theo's face was
filled with simple bliss at the sight and smell of the glorious chips. Oh,
that life was always as uncomplicated as it was for a nine-year-old faced
with a mountain of chips!
Farry and Goldie seemed to be continuing the feud in a more good-natured fashion, pulling hideous faces at each other over the table, while evidently struggling not to laugh. Pippin pushed out a chair for his brother and gave him a look of concern as he sat himself down. Merry wondered just how awful he must look for Pippin to actually acknowledge that he was worried about him. Their tight bond of brotherhood was normally firmly masked by continual bickering and rivalry. He wrinkled his nose a little in the traditional inter-brother code for 'I'm alright now, don't worry.'
Then the feast began.
*****
It wasn't until everyone was replete that Faramir remembered the shield. As the whole party decamped to the sitting room he dashed to the pile of wet baggage in the hallway and tugged his pack free.
All eyes were on him as he hobbled back into the room carrying the shield, still wrapped in the picnic blanket. With a small flourish he revealed the object he had carried all the way back to its former home. Within seconds his Uncle Merry had bounded across the room to study the filigree metal writing that formed part of the delicate pattern around the shield's edge, looking more like an excited child at Yule.
Faramir could hardly breathe for excitement, but somehow he managed to ask: "It does, doesn't it? It says 'Arvedui'? The last king of the north?"
"Extraordinary," gasped Uncle Merry. "Surely this was lost when his ship sank."
"But what is it?" Uncle Sam cut in.
So Merry - with a little prompting from his nephew - told the story. Of Arvedui who battled the Witch King and was forced to flee over the north downs to the frozen lands, who was helped by the Snowmen who lived in strange round houses made from ice, and who finally perished when the ship sent by the elves to rescue him was trapped in the ice and crushed.
It was a perfect tale for a rainy night and kept all the young hobbits (and the older ones) spellbound until a sleepy Theo falling from his chair alerted them to the lateness of the hour.
Farry and Goldie seemed to be continuing the feud in a more good-natured fashion, pulling hideous faces at each other over the table, while evidently struggling not to laugh. Pippin pushed out a chair for his brother and gave him a look of concern as he sat himself down. Merry wondered just how awful he must look for Pippin to actually acknowledge that he was worried about him. Their tight bond of brotherhood was normally firmly masked by continual bickering and rivalry. He wrinkled his nose a little in the traditional inter-brother code for 'I'm alright now, don't worry.'
Then the feast began.
*****
It wasn't until everyone was replete that Faramir remembered the shield. As the whole party decamped to the sitting room he dashed to the pile of wet baggage in the hallway and tugged his pack free.
All eyes were on him as he hobbled back into the room carrying the shield, still wrapped in the picnic blanket. With a small flourish he revealed the object he had carried all the way back to its former home. Within seconds his Uncle Merry had bounded across the room to study the filigree metal writing that formed part of the delicate pattern around the shield's edge, looking more like an excited child at Yule.
Faramir could hardly breathe for excitement, but somehow he managed to ask: "It does, doesn't it? It says 'Arvedui'? The last king of the north?"
"Extraordinary," gasped Uncle Merry. "Surely this was lost when his ship sank."
"But what is it?" Uncle Sam cut in.
So Merry - with a little prompting from his nephew - told the story. Of Arvedui who battled the Witch King and was forced to flee over the north downs to the frozen lands, who was helped by the Snowmen who lived in strange round houses made from ice, and who finally perished when the ship sent by the elves to rescue him was trapped in the ice and crushed.
It was a perfect tale for a rainy night and kept all the young hobbits (and the older ones) spellbound until a sleepy Theo falling from his chair alerted them to the lateness of the hour.
