Authors Note: I'd just like to respond to some reviews before I begin this
chapter.
Bill the Pony: Yeah, it was hard to write 'old' hobbits. I find it difficult to imagine too!
Nihtfyr: Glad you like Tom!
Xena: Yes, he's called Bill 'cus it's short for William. :D
Thankyou to everyone else for your support.
Chapter Four- Leaving Buckland
The two hobbits made light work of preparing their baggage for the journey, and Pippin was sent to borrow two ponies from a nearby farm. When all preparations were made, the three hobbits spent a pleasant and relaxing evening around the fireplace with mugs of hot tea and some of Merry's best pipeweed that he had stored in his cellar. They talked well into the night, recalling memories of their journey, exchanging news and stories and reminiscing of when they were still children.
Sam felt more light-hearted than he had in a long time. The talk and laughter of the evening made him feel as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, not to mention having his friends accompany him on his road to the Sea. When Sam began to feel weary, Merry showed him to a little bedroom off the hallway, and he took delight in sinking into a soft mattress, which was a fairly large contrast to a bed on the ground by the roadside. As he drifted off he thought of all the times he and Frodo had slept out of doors, from the grassy fields of the Shire to the barren, hostile ground of Mordor.
He was woken the next morning by the sun shining through the curtains at the little window in the side of the hobbit hole. Sam climbed out of bed and pulled on his travelling clothes, and as he went to pick up his pack his eyes rested upon his old cloak from Lothlórien. He had brought it along as an afterthought and had forgotten all about it until he caught a glimpse of the silvery green fabric poking out from his pack. Hesitating for a second, he pulled it from his pack and held it up to his face. The fabric was soft, and as he inhaled he could still smell the faint aroma of the woods of Lórien. He smiled as he thought of the fair land of the Elves, and then he flung the cloak over his shoulders, straightened his back and strode out to the kitchen.
"Good morning Sam," Pippin called from the table. He looked up and noticed that Sam was wearing his old cloak. A smile of realisation and understanding spread slowly over his face, and he then reached under the table and drew out a neatly folded package. Although the material was worn and faded with age it was unmistakable as his own elvish cloak. He shook it out and touched the fabric, remembering the fair land of the elves as if it was yesterday.
"It looks like we had the same idea," he said. He then stood up from the table and mirrored Sam's earlier movements, fastening the cloak around his neck. Then he laughed and it seemed as if the years had been taken from him for just a moment, and he was once again the young Peregrin Took of twenty- eight years, about to depart on a long and dangerous journey with three of his friends.
Then the laughter faded from the air, and he was once again old, but he stood up straighter than he had been before with his head held high, and in his eyes there was a new light, youthful and strong.
"It has been quite some time since I have put this cloak on, Sam," he mused, stroking the fabric thoughtfully. "But I suddenly feel quite myself again, and much more energetic, if you know what I mean."
"That's just how I felt, Master Pippin. I think that there is some kind of Elven magic woven into these cloaks that we didn't know about," Sam answered. They both stood in silence for a time.
"We'd better go and find Merry," Pippin said eventually, breaking the dreamlike air in which their minds had been going back to the memory of Lóthlorien.
"You're right," Sam agreed, shouldering his pack and striding out from the hobbit hole. Behind him Pippin securely locked and bolted the door.
"Merry's with the ponies, just up the lane," Pippin said, gesturing with his left hand to where three ponies were tethered to a gatepost. Sam greeted William, who looked pleased to see him.
"The farmer took your old pony in too, Sam. He's had a mighty good feed," Merry announced when he saw them approach. Then he noticed the cloaks that they wore around their shoulders and winked quickly, a twinkle appearing briefly in his eyes as he turned back to the ponies.
Sam and Pippin smiled to each other when they saw that Merry had also put his elven cloak on. It had seemed right that they wore their old travelling gear for Sam's last journey.
"It's been some time since I've ridden a pony," Pippin announced, looking somewhat doubtfully at the beast that was to bear him.
"If I can manage it then so can you," Sam grunted, hoisting himself up into the saddle.
"Aren't we too old for this?" Pippin asked as he too pulled himself up.
"I dare say we are," Sam answered. "But it's the best transport we have." He turned William's head with a light tug of the reins and nudged him with his heels. Merry followed, and then came Pippin, and together they set off down the lane.
They covered a good many miles that day, and soon they were at the cross- roads which joined onto the main road. Sam stopped his pony, unsure of which way to turn.
"What's the matter Sam?" Merry asked, drawing to a halt beside him.
"I don't know," Sam said slowly. "I was going to head for the Brandywine Bridge, but now I'm not sure if I want to go that way after all."
Merry and Pippin waited patiently for him to finish his explanation.
"I think it's because I've said goodbye to Bag End and to Hobbiton and everything already. I don't think I can go that way again. It wouldn't feel right."
Merry and Pippin did not ask for any more. They understood. Sam was ready to start a new life, and Bag End held too many memories, good and bad. It had been hard for him to leave it all behind, and if he went back now it would rekindle all the hurt he had gone through the past year.
"All right then. We shall turn left and make for Buckleberry Ferry," Pippin decided.
"Thank you," Sam murmured, relived and at the same time sad he would not be travelling through the lands he had said farewell to.
"Think nothing of it," Merry said, looking at Sam fondly. "We do love you, Samwise, and we will miss you an awful lot."
"And I will miss you, of course. And I'll be sure not to forget you. I do not think I could, even if I tried."
The three hobbits exchanged knowing glances, and then turned left down the road and began the first leg of their journey to Buckleberry Ferry.
*-*
Bill the Pony: Yeah, it was hard to write 'old' hobbits. I find it difficult to imagine too!
Nihtfyr: Glad you like Tom!
Xena: Yes, he's called Bill 'cus it's short for William. :D
Thankyou to everyone else for your support.
Chapter Four- Leaving Buckland
The two hobbits made light work of preparing their baggage for the journey, and Pippin was sent to borrow two ponies from a nearby farm. When all preparations were made, the three hobbits spent a pleasant and relaxing evening around the fireplace with mugs of hot tea and some of Merry's best pipeweed that he had stored in his cellar. They talked well into the night, recalling memories of their journey, exchanging news and stories and reminiscing of when they were still children.
Sam felt more light-hearted than he had in a long time. The talk and laughter of the evening made him feel as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, not to mention having his friends accompany him on his road to the Sea. When Sam began to feel weary, Merry showed him to a little bedroom off the hallway, and he took delight in sinking into a soft mattress, which was a fairly large contrast to a bed on the ground by the roadside. As he drifted off he thought of all the times he and Frodo had slept out of doors, from the grassy fields of the Shire to the barren, hostile ground of Mordor.
He was woken the next morning by the sun shining through the curtains at the little window in the side of the hobbit hole. Sam climbed out of bed and pulled on his travelling clothes, and as he went to pick up his pack his eyes rested upon his old cloak from Lothlórien. He had brought it along as an afterthought and had forgotten all about it until he caught a glimpse of the silvery green fabric poking out from his pack. Hesitating for a second, he pulled it from his pack and held it up to his face. The fabric was soft, and as he inhaled he could still smell the faint aroma of the woods of Lórien. He smiled as he thought of the fair land of the Elves, and then he flung the cloak over his shoulders, straightened his back and strode out to the kitchen.
"Good morning Sam," Pippin called from the table. He looked up and noticed that Sam was wearing his old cloak. A smile of realisation and understanding spread slowly over his face, and he then reached under the table and drew out a neatly folded package. Although the material was worn and faded with age it was unmistakable as his own elvish cloak. He shook it out and touched the fabric, remembering the fair land of the elves as if it was yesterday.
"It looks like we had the same idea," he said. He then stood up from the table and mirrored Sam's earlier movements, fastening the cloak around his neck. Then he laughed and it seemed as if the years had been taken from him for just a moment, and he was once again the young Peregrin Took of twenty- eight years, about to depart on a long and dangerous journey with three of his friends.
Then the laughter faded from the air, and he was once again old, but he stood up straighter than he had been before with his head held high, and in his eyes there was a new light, youthful and strong.
"It has been quite some time since I have put this cloak on, Sam," he mused, stroking the fabric thoughtfully. "But I suddenly feel quite myself again, and much more energetic, if you know what I mean."
"That's just how I felt, Master Pippin. I think that there is some kind of Elven magic woven into these cloaks that we didn't know about," Sam answered. They both stood in silence for a time.
"We'd better go and find Merry," Pippin said eventually, breaking the dreamlike air in which their minds had been going back to the memory of Lóthlorien.
"You're right," Sam agreed, shouldering his pack and striding out from the hobbit hole. Behind him Pippin securely locked and bolted the door.
"Merry's with the ponies, just up the lane," Pippin said, gesturing with his left hand to where three ponies were tethered to a gatepost. Sam greeted William, who looked pleased to see him.
"The farmer took your old pony in too, Sam. He's had a mighty good feed," Merry announced when he saw them approach. Then he noticed the cloaks that they wore around their shoulders and winked quickly, a twinkle appearing briefly in his eyes as he turned back to the ponies.
Sam and Pippin smiled to each other when they saw that Merry had also put his elven cloak on. It had seemed right that they wore their old travelling gear for Sam's last journey.
"It's been some time since I've ridden a pony," Pippin announced, looking somewhat doubtfully at the beast that was to bear him.
"If I can manage it then so can you," Sam grunted, hoisting himself up into the saddle.
"Aren't we too old for this?" Pippin asked as he too pulled himself up.
"I dare say we are," Sam answered. "But it's the best transport we have." He turned William's head with a light tug of the reins and nudged him with his heels. Merry followed, and then came Pippin, and together they set off down the lane.
They covered a good many miles that day, and soon they were at the cross- roads which joined onto the main road. Sam stopped his pony, unsure of which way to turn.
"What's the matter Sam?" Merry asked, drawing to a halt beside him.
"I don't know," Sam said slowly. "I was going to head for the Brandywine Bridge, but now I'm not sure if I want to go that way after all."
Merry and Pippin waited patiently for him to finish his explanation.
"I think it's because I've said goodbye to Bag End and to Hobbiton and everything already. I don't think I can go that way again. It wouldn't feel right."
Merry and Pippin did not ask for any more. They understood. Sam was ready to start a new life, and Bag End held too many memories, good and bad. It had been hard for him to leave it all behind, and if he went back now it would rekindle all the hurt he had gone through the past year.
"All right then. We shall turn left and make for Buckleberry Ferry," Pippin decided.
"Thank you," Sam murmured, relived and at the same time sad he would not be travelling through the lands he had said farewell to.
"Think nothing of it," Merry said, looking at Sam fondly. "We do love you, Samwise, and we will miss you an awful lot."
"And I will miss you, of course. And I'll be sure not to forget you. I do not think I could, even if I tried."
The three hobbits exchanged knowing glances, and then turned left down the road and began the first leg of their journey to Buckleberry Ferry.
*-*