Disclaimer: All characters belong to the estate of the brilliant J. R. R.
Tolkein, his heirs, etc. Again, there are no OC's as yet; all references
come from either LOTR, TH, or The Silmarillion. Location of Long Cleeve
and the geography of the North Farthing in later chapters is purely my
guesswork and imagination.
Chapter 3
Fredegar was waiting on the road outside the snug little house he share with his sister as Pippin and Merry rode up. "Filthy weather for the start of a journey," he muttered. His cloak and hood weren't of Elven-make, as Merry and Pippin's were, and he already looked cold, wet and miserable. He had his coat buttoned all the way up and a knitted wool scarf wrapped tightly about his neck. Thick wool gloves covered his hands. Merry stifled a laugh and glanced behind Fredegar. A small, pretty Hobbit-maid of perhaps thirty-five years was standing in the doorway, watching. Merry smiled at her and bowed low in his saddle, tipping his hood to her.
"Good morning, Miss Estella," he said gallantly.
Miss Estella Bolger's plump cheeks turned bright red, and her dark brown eyes sparkled as she dropped him a small curtsey. Pippin had also bowed to her, but she barely noticed it. Gathering her knitted shawl about her, she carried a small box over to Fatty.
"Freddy, you forgot to give this to Captain Meriadoc." Fredegar's sister was the only Hobbit in the Shire who actually called Fredegar by his name. She was also one of the few who referred to Pippin and Merry's ranks in the local Hobbitry-in-arms. She had spoken softly, stealing quick glances at Merry. "It's the blanket I knitted for him to give to little Elanor."
Fredegar gave his sister an annoyed look. "Well, Stella, why give it to me, then? Merry's more than able to carry his own present!"
Miss Estella blushed even more, but she was composed when she turned to Merry. He dismounted immediately, no small feat with a laden haversack on his back and his pony eager to get moving. He handed the reins to Fatty and moved to take Miss Estella's package from her. Pippin pretended not to notice that he took her hands, as well, looking down on the small Hobbit maiden with smiling eyes. Fatty noticed, though, and gave a disgusted snort.
"Come on, Stella. You're making us late! Just give Merry the box and let us be off!"
"I'm sorry, Captain Meriadoc, for causing you delay," she said quietly.
Merry reassured her quickly. "A most welcome delay, I assure you! But it is quite cold out here, and I wouldn't want you to catch a chill. Can I see you to your door?"
Fatty had had enough. "It's only a few feet, Merry! I'm sure that if Stella spent the last thirty-six years getting herself in and out of the door, she can do it again today!"
He might as well have been speaking to himself. Merry had taken Miss Estella's arm and was courteously escorting her back to the door of the little house. As soon as the door closed, he hurried back and mounted up again. Pippin was grinning from ear to ear, but only just managed not to sing out a teasing song in which Estella's and Merry's names would be prominently featured, along with sitting in trees and kissing. Fredegar was prone to be bad-tempered for the next few minutes, grumbling about certain persons making calf's eyes at one another. They spurred their ponies onward, Merry quickening the pace. He ignored the teasing looks from Pippin and the grumbling from Fatty, and by the time they reached the Brandywine Bridge, they were in accord with one another again.
"Of course, I brought my own present for baby Elanor," Pippin was now saying, as their ponies clip-clopped across the bridge. "I just kept forgetting to send it on. She won't have much use of it for years, but if she's anything like her Uncle Frodo, she will use it eventually."
"Well, what is it?" asked Merry, still gazing occasionally at the festively wrapped parcel he had stuffed under his cloak to protect it from the rain.
"It's a volume of blank pages. I would guess that by the time she learns her letters well and starts writing, old Sam will be happy to have someone take over the archives. You know he never was much for book work."
Merry nodded thoughtfully. "I don't know exactly what Miss Estella knitted, but it's sure to be just right," he mused.
"What is this 'Miss Estella'?" Fredegar demanded. "I remember when she was just plain old Stella to you, Merry. Or even, 'that pesky sister' of mine. Have you taken a fancy to my sister all of a sudden?"
Merry remained quiet, though a smile teased his mouth. Pippin, however, laughed heartily. "All of a sudden? My dear Fatty, our Merry has fancied your sister for some months now."
Fredegar's mouth dropped open. "Months? But-but, why haven't I heard of it?"
Merry slowed a bit. "You have now, my friend. And you shall hear more after this 'adventure' of Pippin's is over. But for now, we have quite enough on our plates, don't you think?"
This time Pippin didn't bother to hide his laughter. He looked from Merry's mildly amused expression to Fredegar's look of consternation and laughed out loud.
"Well, I never," Fatty mumbled under his breath. "Merry and m'sister, Stella! Who'd have thought?"
They rode along in silence for some time, each with his own thoughts. After a while, though, Pippin spoke up. "Well, Master Meriadoc. You said the riddle of Gandalf's letter would wait for the road, and we're on the road. What do you make of it?"
"You know, I was just thinking of that, too. I--," Merry began, but Fredegar broke in.
"I can tell you a bit of it," he said.
Pippin and Merry turned to him, listening. "When Gandalf found me, he said he'd just come from seeing the Took himself. Said he had a feeling you'd decide to set out immediately you returned, so he wrote his letter and left it for me to deliver. I asked him why he didn't just give it to you since he would be seeing you soon. He said that he had only a short time left here and he didn't want to be delayed by 'typical Hobbit inquisitiveness'."
Merry chuckled, but Pippin thought about that for a moment. "Well, that certainly explains how he knew about our trip. I suppose he knew we'd take the opportunity to do a bit of exploring, too, since we've not had the chance yet."
"Yes, but how did he know about Sam's Hal? That's the question. And why didn't Sam ever mention that story before?" Merry shrugged. "Some things I guess we'll never know."
"What did he mean about yours and Pippin's destiny?" Fredegar asked suddenly.
Pippin shook his head and looked at Merry. "Do you think he means that King Elessar and King Eomer are going to call us back south? Could that be it?"
Merry was very thoughtful for a moment. "I don't know, Pippin, but I don't really think so. Gandalf spoke of our experiences preparing us for something. I doubt we'd really be needed to supplement the armies of Gondor and the Mark, don't you? I get the feeling he was talking about something closer to home. Perhaps creating a home town militia or something of the sort."
"No!" Fredegar cried. "A militia? Here in the Shire? That's outrageous! I thought that's what those Rangers were for? Didn't you say your King Elessar was going to send 'em back up here?"
Pippin gave Fredegar a quick look, but tapped his chin. "I know Stri-er- the king means to move many of his folk up here and reestablish the old realms, except for the Shire, of course. And he means to bring peace and order back to the north and the Wilderness. But even Gandalf said that we Shire folk would need to grow up and start to take care of ourselves, which we have now."
The young Hobbit gave a nod, almost to himself, and said casually, "I expect we should ask Sam what he thinks."
"Sam?" Fredegar looked from Pippin to Merry, confused. "Why would Sam have any idea?"
"Come, now, Fatty! Surely you realize Sam's much deeper than what appears on the surface," Merry chided mildly. "Still waters there, and lots of good old Hobbit-sense!"
Pippin smiled and added, "If we learned anything on our travels 'down south', it's that there's a good deal more to our Master Samwise than meets the eye!"
"Well, I'll take your word for it," Fredegar said pleasantly. "But if we're to meet his eyes at the new Dragon at noon, we'd best put some speed on! Come on, Pippin, give us a song to hurry us along!"
Pippin thought for a moment, and then started singing.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began
Away up North the Road goes on
And we will follow while we can
Pursuing it with eager feet
Under hill and over fen
Our Northern kin we hope to meet
With friendly fires at journey's end
The Road goes ever on and on
Who can say where next it goes?
To Long Cleeve now is where we're drawn
But first to Bag End, Sam and Rose
Fredegar merely stared, but Merry cried, "Why, Pippin! That was rather good! And here I thought Sam and Bilbo were the only poets in the group! Did you just make that up?"
Pippin smiled, delighted. "Well, I did think about it a bit while you and Fatty weren't speaking to one another. Not really very good, but there you are. And it's rather too slow for our purposes. Perhaps we should have a rousing chorus of the Ent's battle song. You know, 'though Isengard be strong and hard' and all that."
Merry chuckled. "Yes, that would be quite rousing, no doubt. And we would have all the young Hobbit lads (and some of the lasses) out here with pitchforks and scythes, ready to have another go at old 'Sharkey'!"
Pippin laughed, but Fatty merely grunted. "These young Hobbits," he muttered under his breath. "Gee-up!" he cried to his pony, snapping the reins and digging his heels into the animal's sides. The pony jumped forward, surprised at its master's sudden order, nearly unseating the Hobbit. The pony galloped for a few paces, and then, at Fatty's frantic pulling on the reins, it settled into a bone-jarring trot.
Pippin and Merry followed, easing their mounts into a much smoother canter, and the three made good time to Bywater and the new Green Dragon Inn.
The old Green Dragon Inn had been a comfortable old place with dark wood, smoky rafters, a large hearth (usually with a large fire blazing inside) and plenty of room for sitting, drinking, talking, or the odd game of darts. The new Green Dragon was much like the old. It was still one of the finest pubs in the Shire, but now it boasted three large fireplaces, more space, and even better ale (especially since the harvest of fourteen twenty). And the dart players had nothing to complain of, either, as there were more boards set up with the larger building. Its polished wood floor was strewn with sweet herbs and rushes that not only gave off a pleasant scent when trod on, but helped keep the floor shining. . The three travelers dismounted before the door, and a young lad took their ponies round back to a sheltered stable. Merry and Pippin shrugged off their haversacks and carried them to the door of the Inn. They paused for a moment on the threshold, gazing at the new homes that had been built after Saruman's demise, as well as the wonderful trees, plants and flowers that were in evidence everywhere. In all, with the help of every able-handed Hobbit, Sam's skill, and the Lady Galadriel's gift, there was little in the Shire that wasn't as good or better than it had been before the coming of Saruman. Taking a last look, they entered the Green Dragon Inn. Despite the fact that it was just on noon, the Dragon was well filled. It was a day of rest for most Hobbits, besides which the weather prevented many from fishing, strolling or just lolling about. Several of the patrons smiled and nodded, lifting their tankards to the newcomers. Merry waved back at several acquaintances, while Pippin and Fatty searched for Sam.
They found him near the rear of the common room, waving and motioning for them to join him. There was a stout, sturdy Hobbit with a broad face and red cheeks sitting with him, who only nodded cautiously as they approached. He looked to be a few years older than Sam, but had a more countrified air to him, as though he wasn't comfortable with large crowds and fine folk. As Fredegar, Pippin and Merry joined Sam, the other Hobbit seemed to scrunch even lower into his seat.
"Sam, how are you? How is Mistress Rose?" Merry asked genially. He had only seen Sam two days ago, but he wanted to put the other Hobbit, Halfast, he guessed, at ease.
"Is she expecting us for dinner?" Pippin inquired, keeping the essentials, such as meals, in mind.
Sam beamed and waved for a round of ale. Then he began the introductions.
"Masters Fredegar Bolger, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and Peregrin Took, this is my cousin Halfast Gamgee. Hal, meet Fredegar, Meriadoc and Peregrin."
Sam grinned as Merry and Pippin gave him stern looks. Both bowed along with Fatty, but Pippin piped up, "Just call me Pippin and lets dispense with the 'masters' if you please. I'm pleased to meet you!"
Hal looked a bit shocked at this familiarity, but returned the bows, only slightly more shocked when Merry added his request of informality. The Hobbits sat as the barman brought over a tray with mugs. Fredegar pronounced himself parched and drank off almost half of his tankard at once. The others sipped more slowly, making casual conversation for a while until, finally, Sam placed his tankard on the table and cleared his throat.
"Now then, Hal, s'pose you tell Mr. Brandybuck and Mr. Took all about what you saw away north?"
Halfast also put his drink down and stared at the table. His red cheeks grew redder and he clasped his hands tightly in front of him.
Merry and Pippin knew the look at once; Hal was embarrassed to repeat the story. Pippin placed a companionable arm around the stout Hobbit's shoulders. "Come now, Master Halfast," he cajoled. "We've come expressly to hear your story, and you needn't think we'll scoff. Merry and I are probably the last to scoff about stories of what you saw on the North Moors!"
Hal didn't look a bit comforted by Pippin's words.
"How about if we tell you our story, first," Merry suggested. "We'll try not to varnish it up, and we'll try to stick to the bare bones, but it will still be a bit unbelievable. If you don't laugh at our story, we can't laugh at yours, right?"
"I told Sam I warn't no story teller. I took enough o' ridiculing when first I mentioned it. 'Sides, it were a good two-three year ago. Why'd you want to hear o' it now?"
Sam gave Hal a frown. His cousin still looked uncomfortable. "I told you, Hal, Merry and Pippin are good Hobbits with plenty of good old Hobbit- sense." He glanced across the table and added quickly, "Oh, and Mr. Bolger, too. They've already heard the tale from me, and are just wanting some of the details from you!"
Merry stopped Sam and gave Hal a quick grin. "Let me start first, Master Halfast. That should reassure you that we have no reason to ridicule anything you tell us."
He thought for a moment, then began. "Let's see, we'll start with the Orcs and Amon Hen, shall we? That's as good a place as any to begin."
Pippin nodded and the others settled in for a good tale. Sam and Fatty had heard the story many times, and Sam had read it in the Red Book, as well, but Hal had only heard bits and pieces of the various adventures his cousin and friends had experienced.
Merry began with the attack by the Orcs while they were all running about looking for Frodo. "It was a good job that old Sam kept his wits about him, at least, and figured what Frodo was about. None of the rest of us did!" Pippin cut in, when Merry paused for a moment. Merry picked up the story again and told briefly of the forced march across the plains of Rohan and the push to make Fangorn and the river. He omitted much of the suffering and brutality they'd experienced, cutting to the battle between the Orcs and the Men of Rohan, and how they'd escaped relatively unharmed. He explained how they'd wandered into Fangorn and had followed the stream and finally found Treebeard. Hal was quite interested in the description of Treebeard, Quickbeam and the rest of the Ents, but he had a dissatisfied frown on his face when Merry finally finished his narrative.
"What is it?" Pippin asked, noticing the expression.
"Well, sirs, it was a good story, no question on that, but, begging your pardon, it don't seem to ring true."
Pippin straightened from his comfortable slouch. "Well, I like that! Are you saying that Merry and I made that up? Even your Sam here can vouch for our story. He saw the Ents himself, though at a distance, when we were on our way back home!"
Hal held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Now, Mr. Took, there's no call for getting upset! I didn't mean nothing of the sort! What I meant, sirs, was that my tree-man don't sound quite like yours."
Pippin settled back, satisfied, and Merry urged Hal to continue. "Well, what did your 'tree-man' look like?"
"Now, that won't do," Sam cut in. "Hal, don't you start at the middle of the story. Just tell it like you told me first time."
Hal looked nervously at his tankard of ale and took a long swallow. Wiping his mouth, he sighed. "All right then, Sam, since you vouch for these gentlemen. Here goes.
"I was away up on the North Moors, up in North Farthing. I like to hunt a bit of coney and sometimes a brace of quail and pigeon. Always good to have fresh game for the pot, you know. It was getting late and I was set to call it a night when I heard this booming sort of sound. Kinda like the roll of drums, but not, if you see what I mean."
Pippin playfully put his hand to his mouth and made a tube of his fist. Then he let out a sudden, "Hoom, hm, trum-dum-dee-dum!"
Hal jumped and looked at the young Hobbit with wide eyes. Pippin smiled sheepishly. "Forgive me, Master Halfast. I couldn't resist. Treebeard was always making sounds like that."
"But Mr. Took, that was just the way of it! That was what I heard!"
Pippin laughed and shook his head. "I imagine it was much deeper, though. I haven't enough voice to sound like a real Ent."
"No, sir!" Hal insisted. "It was just like that! Light, you might say. Light and music-y, if you catch my meaning."
Fredegar laughed. "Well, Pippin is rather handy with a line or a rhyme, but his voice is far from musical."
Hal gave Fatty a sour look and shifted in his seat so his shoulder was to Fatty. "The voice I heard was just like Mr. Took's," he said stubbornly.
Merry and Pippin exchanged a look and Pippin asked, "You said our description was different than what you saw. Can you remember how?"
Hal thought, his brow furrowing with the effort. "Well, sir, the creature I was wasn't as tall as you said, though it was tall enough, if you know what I mean. And it had dark skin, almost like it had spent long years in the sun. I couldn't really see it clear from where I was, but it seemed sorta soft-like, its cloths were kind of draping around it."
"Could it have been a 'tree-woman' instead of a tree-man?" Merry asked, trying to contain his excitement.
Hal's broad face suddenly beamed. "That's it!" he said loudly, causing Fatty to jump. "I knowed there was something wrong, but I never thought it might be a female! That's just right!"
"An Ent-wife!" Pippin breathed excitedly.
Almost three hours later, Hal had been questioned and cross-questioned by Pippin and Merry. They had also done their share of clarifying their own experiences. Poor Master Halfast! He was beginning to look a bit harried, but as it was obvious that they believed him, he didn't seem to mind too much. Storytelling was thirsty work and both Pippin and Merry made certain that he was well supplied with ale. Finally, Sam brought the interview to an end.
"This has been interesting, to be sure, but Rosie's expecting me, and she'll be expecting you two soon after. And Mr. Bolger, too, of course," he added quickly. "Hal, will you be joining us?"
The other Hobbits straightened from the lounging positions they'd taken as Hal had been telling of his experience. Hal shook his head.
"Sorry, Sam, but my Peony will be waiting supper for me if I'm late. Didn't expect to be near this long!"
Pippin stood quickly and moved out of the booth they had been sitting at. Laying a hand over his chest, he gave Halfast a low bow, ignoring the interested looks he was getting from the other patrons of the Dragon. "We're deeply in your debt, Mr. Gamgee, for your time and all your kind assistance! I can't tell you how much it means to us!"
Merry added his own thanks, and an equally deep bow. Fredegar grunted and dipped him a bow as well, but straightened quickly. "M'sister's probably expecting me for supper, Sam, so thank Mistress Rose, but I'll have to decline this time."
Hal looked extremely disconcerted at the courtesy being offered him by the two young bucks from such prestigious families. He couldn't, however, be anything but pleased at their genuine gratitude. He was often heard to remark afterward that Captains Took and Brandybuck were as fine young gentleHobbits as you could want. Returning the bows with flustered grace, he mumbled faintly about being 'at their service'.
"Come, Hal, didn't I tell you it would be fine?" Sam asked with a large grin, clapping Hal on the shoulder as the stout Hobbit finally took his leave.
Pippin and Merry were fastening their Elven cloaks and Fatty was shrugging back into his own, still slightly damp one when Sam returned.
"You'll be stabling the ponies here, then?" Sam asked, pulling on his own cloak.
"Well, we decided to go on foot, you know," Pippin answered. He cupped his slightly rounded belly and laughed depreciatingly. "I must have increased several belt sizes in the last year!"
Merry and Pippin were taller now than any other Hobbits in the Shire, but even before their Journey with Frodo, Sam and the others of the Fellowship, they had been thinner and more adventurous than most. All Hobbits were descended from three different classes or breeds of creature. These were the Stoors, the Harfoots and the Fallohides. Harfoots had lived in foothills of mountains and had much to do with Dwarves. They were darker of skin, and smaller. The Stoors liked the water and many of them had lived along the banks of great rivers before moving west. The Fallohides were the least numerous of the three and were the most adventurous. They spoke with Elves, hunted more than tilled the land, and were usually taller and less stout than the other clans.
By Pippin and Merry's time, most Hobbits had intermingled bloodlines, but in the Tooks and Brandybucks, the Fallohide traits ran almost true, and it was evident in Pippin and Merry.
"I feel that I've been lazing about, getting fat and lazy," Merry complained. "That was why we wanted to walk. Besides, one sees more on foot and in the field than on pony-back on a road."
Sam merely shrugged. "Well, take up your packs then, gentlehobbits, and let us be on our way!"
It was just a few miles from the Green Dragon Inn in Bywater to the Hill and Bag End in Hobbiton. In fact, family legend gave it that Bilbo had made the distance in just over ten minutes once, when he had rushed from his home without a hat or even his pocket handkerchief, so he could go on an adventure with an old wizard and thirteen Dwarves! Fortunately for Bilbo, most of it had been downhill. With the miserable weather and the laden haversacks, though, the three friends were trudging up the lane and at Bag End almost an hour later.
Sam threw the door open, letting the warm light spill onto the doorstep. Pippin and Merry were greeted with the aroma of fresh baking and cooking and a cheerful smile from Mistress Rose.
"Well, Rose," Sam said gustily, "We're home!"
Chapter 3
Fredegar was waiting on the road outside the snug little house he share with his sister as Pippin and Merry rode up. "Filthy weather for the start of a journey," he muttered. His cloak and hood weren't of Elven-make, as Merry and Pippin's were, and he already looked cold, wet and miserable. He had his coat buttoned all the way up and a knitted wool scarf wrapped tightly about his neck. Thick wool gloves covered his hands. Merry stifled a laugh and glanced behind Fredegar. A small, pretty Hobbit-maid of perhaps thirty-five years was standing in the doorway, watching. Merry smiled at her and bowed low in his saddle, tipping his hood to her.
"Good morning, Miss Estella," he said gallantly.
Miss Estella Bolger's plump cheeks turned bright red, and her dark brown eyes sparkled as she dropped him a small curtsey. Pippin had also bowed to her, but she barely noticed it. Gathering her knitted shawl about her, she carried a small box over to Fatty.
"Freddy, you forgot to give this to Captain Meriadoc." Fredegar's sister was the only Hobbit in the Shire who actually called Fredegar by his name. She was also one of the few who referred to Pippin and Merry's ranks in the local Hobbitry-in-arms. She had spoken softly, stealing quick glances at Merry. "It's the blanket I knitted for him to give to little Elanor."
Fredegar gave his sister an annoyed look. "Well, Stella, why give it to me, then? Merry's more than able to carry his own present!"
Miss Estella blushed even more, but she was composed when she turned to Merry. He dismounted immediately, no small feat with a laden haversack on his back and his pony eager to get moving. He handed the reins to Fatty and moved to take Miss Estella's package from her. Pippin pretended not to notice that he took her hands, as well, looking down on the small Hobbit maiden with smiling eyes. Fatty noticed, though, and gave a disgusted snort.
"Come on, Stella. You're making us late! Just give Merry the box and let us be off!"
"I'm sorry, Captain Meriadoc, for causing you delay," she said quietly.
Merry reassured her quickly. "A most welcome delay, I assure you! But it is quite cold out here, and I wouldn't want you to catch a chill. Can I see you to your door?"
Fatty had had enough. "It's only a few feet, Merry! I'm sure that if Stella spent the last thirty-six years getting herself in and out of the door, she can do it again today!"
He might as well have been speaking to himself. Merry had taken Miss Estella's arm and was courteously escorting her back to the door of the little house. As soon as the door closed, he hurried back and mounted up again. Pippin was grinning from ear to ear, but only just managed not to sing out a teasing song in which Estella's and Merry's names would be prominently featured, along with sitting in trees and kissing. Fredegar was prone to be bad-tempered for the next few minutes, grumbling about certain persons making calf's eyes at one another. They spurred their ponies onward, Merry quickening the pace. He ignored the teasing looks from Pippin and the grumbling from Fatty, and by the time they reached the Brandywine Bridge, they were in accord with one another again.
"Of course, I brought my own present for baby Elanor," Pippin was now saying, as their ponies clip-clopped across the bridge. "I just kept forgetting to send it on. She won't have much use of it for years, but if she's anything like her Uncle Frodo, she will use it eventually."
"Well, what is it?" asked Merry, still gazing occasionally at the festively wrapped parcel he had stuffed under his cloak to protect it from the rain.
"It's a volume of blank pages. I would guess that by the time she learns her letters well and starts writing, old Sam will be happy to have someone take over the archives. You know he never was much for book work."
Merry nodded thoughtfully. "I don't know exactly what Miss Estella knitted, but it's sure to be just right," he mused.
"What is this 'Miss Estella'?" Fredegar demanded. "I remember when she was just plain old Stella to you, Merry. Or even, 'that pesky sister' of mine. Have you taken a fancy to my sister all of a sudden?"
Merry remained quiet, though a smile teased his mouth. Pippin, however, laughed heartily. "All of a sudden? My dear Fatty, our Merry has fancied your sister for some months now."
Fredegar's mouth dropped open. "Months? But-but, why haven't I heard of it?"
Merry slowed a bit. "You have now, my friend. And you shall hear more after this 'adventure' of Pippin's is over. But for now, we have quite enough on our plates, don't you think?"
This time Pippin didn't bother to hide his laughter. He looked from Merry's mildly amused expression to Fredegar's look of consternation and laughed out loud.
"Well, I never," Fatty mumbled under his breath. "Merry and m'sister, Stella! Who'd have thought?"
They rode along in silence for some time, each with his own thoughts. After a while, though, Pippin spoke up. "Well, Master Meriadoc. You said the riddle of Gandalf's letter would wait for the road, and we're on the road. What do you make of it?"
"You know, I was just thinking of that, too. I--," Merry began, but Fredegar broke in.
"I can tell you a bit of it," he said.
Pippin and Merry turned to him, listening. "When Gandalf found me, he said he'd just come from seeing the Took himself. Said he had a feeling you'd decide to set out immediately you returned, so he wrote his letter and left it for me to deliver. I asked him why he didn't just give it to you since he would be seeing you soon. He said that he had only a short time left here and he didn't want to be delayed by 'typical Hobbit inquisitiveness'."
Merry chuckled, but Pippin thought about that for a moment. "Well, that certainly explains how he knew about our trip. I suppose he knew we'd take the opportunity to do a bit of exploring, too, since we've not had the chance yet."
"Yes, but how did he know about Sam's Hal? That's the question. And why didn't Sam ever mention that story before?" Merry shrugged. "Some things I guess we'll never know."
"What did he mean about yours and Pippin's destiny?" Fredegar asked suddenly.
Pippin shook his head and looked at Merry. "Do you think he means that King Elessar and King Eomer are going to call us back south? Could that be it?"
Merry was very thoughtful for a moment. "I don't know, Pippin, but I don't really think so. Gandalf spoke of our experiences preparing us for something. I doubt we'd really be needed to supplement the armies of Gondor and the Mark, don't you? I get the feeling he was talking about something closer to home. Perhaps creating a home town militia or something of the sort."
"No!" Fredegar cried. "A militia? Here in the Shire? That's outrageous! I thought that's what those Rangers were for? Didn't you say your King Elessar was going to send 'em back up here?"
Pippin gave Fredegar a quick look, but tapped his chin. "I know Stri-er- the king means to move many of his folk up here and reestablish the old realms, except for the Shire, of course. And he means to bring peace and order back to the north and the Wilderness. But even Gandalf said that we Shire folk would need to grow up and start to take care of ourselves, which we have now."
The young Hobbit gave a nod, almost to himself, and said casually, "I expect we should ask Sam what he thinks."
"Sam?" Fredegar looked from Pippin to Merry, confused. "Why would Sam have any idea?"
"Come, now, Fatty! Surely you realize Sam's much deeper than what appears on the surface," Merry chided mildly. "Still waters there, and lots of good old Hobbit-sense!"
Pippin smiled and added, "If we learned anything on our travels 'down south', it's that there's a good deal more to our Master Samwise than meets the eye!"
"Well, I'll take your word for it," Fredegar said pleasantly. "But if we're to meet his eyes at the new Dragon at noon, we'd best put some speed on! Come on, Pippin, give us a song to hurry us along!"
Pippin thought for a moment, and then started singing.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began
Away up North the Road goes on
And we will follow while we can
Pursuing it with eager feet
Under hill and over fen
Our Northern kin we hope to meet
With friendly fires at journey's end
The Road goes ever on and on
Who can say where next it goes?
To Long Cleeve now is where we're drawn
But first to Bag End, Sam and Rose
Fredegar merely stared, but Merry cried, "Why, Pippin! That was rather good! And here I thought Sam and Bilbo were the only poets in the group! Did you just make that up?"
Pippin smiled, delighted. "Well, I did think about it a bit while you and Fatty weren't speaking to one another. Not really very good, but there you are. And it's rather too slow for our purposes. Perhaps we should have a rousing chorus of the Ent's battle song. You know, 'though Isengard be strong and hard' and all that."
Merry chuckled. "Yes, that would be quite rousing, no doubt. And we would have all the young Hobbit lads (and some of the lasses) out here with pitchforks and scythes, ready to have another go at old 'Sharkey'!"
Pippin laughed, but Fatty merely grunted. "These young Hobbits," he muttered under his breath. "Gee-up!" he cried to his pony, snapping the reins and digging his heels into the animal's sides. The pony jumped forward, surprised at its master's sudden order, nearly unseating the Hobbit. The pony galloped for a few paces, and then, at Fatty's frantic pulling on the reins, it settled into a bone-jarring trot.
Pippin and Merry followed, easing their mounts into a much smoother canter, and the three made good time to Bywater and the new Green Dragon Inn.
The old Green Dragon Inn had been a comfortable old place with dark wood, smoky rafters, a large hearth (usually with a large fire blazing inside) and plenty of room for sitting, drinking, talking, or the odd game of darts. The new Green Dragon was much like the old. It was still one of the finest pubs in the Shire, but now it boasted three large fireplaces, more space, and even better ale (especially since the harvest of fourteen twenty). And the dart players had nothing to complain of, either, as there were more boards set up with the larger building. Its polished wood floor was strewn with sweet herbs and rushes that not only gave off a pleasant scent when trod on, but helped keep the floor shining. . The three travelers dismounted before the door, and a young lad took their ponies round back to a sheltered stable. Merry and Pippin shrugged off their haversacks and carried them to the door of the Inn. They paused for a moment on the threshold, gazing at the new homes that had been built after Saruman's demise, as well as the wonderful trees, plants and flowers that were in evidence everywhere. In all, with the help of every able-handed Hobbit, Sam's skill, and the Lady Galadriel's gift, there was little in the Shire that wasn't as good or better than it had been before the coming of Saruman. Taking a last look, they entered the Green Dragon Inn. Despite the fact that it was just on noon, the Dragon was well filled. It was a day of rest for most Hobbits, besides which the weather prevented many from fishing, strolling or just lolling about. Several of the patrons smiled and nodded, lifting their tankards to the newcomers. Merry waved back at several acquaintances, while Pippin and Fatty searched for Sam.
They found him near the rear of the common room, waving and motioning for them to join him. There was a stout, sturdy Hobbit with a broad face and red cheeks sitting with him, who only nodded cautiously as they approached. He looked to be a few years older than Sam, but had a more countrified air to him, as though he wasn't comfortable with large crowds and fine folk. As Fredegar, Pippin and Merry joined Sam, the other Hobbit seemed to scrunch even lower into his seat.
"Sam, how are you? How is Mistress Rose?" Merry asked genially. He had only seen Sam two days ago, but he wanted to put the other Hobbit, Halfast, he guessed, at ease.
"Is she expecting us for dinner?" Pippin inquired, keeping the essentials, such as meals, in mind.
Sam beamed and waved for a round of ale. Then he began the introductions.
"Masters Fredegar Bolger, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and Peregrin Took, this is my cousin Halfast Gamgee. Hal, meet Fredegar, Meriadoc and Peregrin."
Sam grinned as Merry and Pippin gave him stern looks. Both bowed along with Fatty, but Pippin piped up, "Just call me Pippin and lets dispense with the 'masters' if you please. I'm pleased to meet you!"
Hal looked a bit shocked at this familiarity, but returned the bows, only slightly more shocked when Merry added his request of informality. The Hobbits sat as the barman brought over a tray with mugs. Fredegar pronounced himself parched and drank off almost half of his tankard at once. The others sipped more slowly, making casual conversation for a while until, finally, Sam placed his tankard on the table and cleared his throat.
"Now then, Hal, s'pose you tell Mr. Brandybuck and Mr. Took all about what you saw away north?"
Halfast also put his drink down and stared at the table. His red cheeks grew redder and he clasped his hands tightly in front of him.
Merry and Pippin knew the look at once; Hal was embarrassed to repeat the story. Pippin placed a companionable arm around the stout Hobbit's shoulders. "Come now, Master Halfast," he cajoled. "We've come expressly to hear your story, and you needn't think we'll scoff. Merry and I are probably the last to scoff about stories of what you saw on the North Moors!"
Hal didn't look a bit comforted by Pippin's words.
"How about if we tell you our story, first," Merry suggested. "We'll try not to varnish it up, and we'll try to stick to the bare bones, but it will still be a bit unbelievable. If you don't laugh at our story, we can't laugh at yours, right?"
"I told Sam I warn't no story teller. I took enough o' ridiculing when first I mentioned it. 'Sides, it were a good two-three year ago. Why'd you want to hear o' it now?"
Sam gave Hal a frown. His cousin still looked uncomfortable. "I told you, Hal, Merry and Pippin are good Hobbits with plenty of good old Hobbit- sense." He glanced across the table and added quickly, "Oh, and Mr. Bolger, too. They've already heard the tale from me, and are just wanting some of the details from you!"
Merry stopped Sam and gave Hal a quick grin. "Let me start first, Master Halfast. That should reassure you that we have no reason to ridicule anything you tell us."
He thought for a moment, then began. "Let's see, we'll start with the Orcs and Amon Hen, shall we? That's as good a place as any to begin."
Pippin nodded and the others settled in for a good tale. Sam and Fatty had heard the story many times, and Sam had read it in the Red Book, as well, but Hal had only heard bits and pieces of the various adventures his cousin and friends had experienced.
Merry began with the attack by the Orcs while they were all running about looking for Frodo. "It was a good job that old Sam kept his wits about him, at least, and figured what Frodo was about. None of the rest of us did!" Pippin cut in, when Merry paused for a moment. Merry picked up the story again and told briefly of the forced march across the plains of Rohan and the push to make Fangorn and the river. He omitted much of the suffering and brutality they'd experienced, cutting to the battle between the Orcs and the Men of Rohan, and how they'd escaped relatively unharmed. He explained how they'd wandered into Fangorn and had followed the stream and finally found Treebeard. Hal was quite interested in the description of Treebeard, Quickbeam and the rest of the Ents, but he had a dissatisfied frown on his face when Merry finally finished his narrative.
"What is it?" Pippin asked, noticing the expression.
"Well, sirs, it was a good story, no question on that, but, begging your pardon, it don't seem to ring true."
Pippin straightened from his comfortable slouch. "Well, I like that! Are you saying that Merry and I made that up? Even your Sam here can vouch for our story. He saw the Ents himself, though at a distance, when we were on our way back home!"
Hal held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Now, Mr. Took, there's no call for getting upset! I didn't mean nothing of the sort! What I meant, sirs, was that my tree-man don't sound quite like yours."
Pippin settled back, satisfied, and Merry urged Hal to continue. "Well, what did your 'tree-man' look like?"
"Now, that won't do," Sam cut in. "Hal, don't you start at the middle of the story. Just tell it like you told me first time."
Hal looked nervously at his tankard of ale and took a long swallow. Wiping his mouth, he sighed. "All right then, Sam, since you vouch for these gentlemen. Here goes.
"I was away up on the North Moors, up in North Farthing. I like to hunt a bit of coney and sometimes a brace of quail and pigeon. Always good to have fresh game for the pot, you know. It was getting late and I was set to call it a night when I heard this booming sort of sound. Kinda like the roll of drums, but not, if you see what I mean."
Pippin playfully put his hand to his mouth and made a tube of his fist. Then he let out a sudden, "Hoom, hm, trum-dum-dee-dum!"
Hal jumped and looked at the young Hobbit with wide eyes. Pippin smiled sheepishly. "Forgive me, Master Halfast. I couldn't resist. Treebeard was always making sounds like that."
"But Mr. Took, that was just the way of it! That was what I heard!"
Pippin laughed and shook his head. "I imagine it was much deeper, though. I haven't enough voice to sound like a real Ent."
"No, sir!" Hal insisted. "It was just like that! Light, you might say. Light and music-y, if you catch my meaning."
Fredegar laughed. "Well, Pippin is rather handy with a line or a rhyme, but his voice is far from musical."
Hal gave Fatty a sour look and shifted in his seat so his shoulder was to Fatty. "The voice I heard was just like Mr. Took's," he said stubbornly.
Merry and Pippin exchanged a look and Pippin asked, "You said our description was different than what you saw. Can you remember how?"
Hal thought, his brow furrowing with the effort. "Well, sir, the creature I was wasn't as tall as you said, though it was tall enough, if you know what I mean. And it had dark skin, almost like it had spent long years in the sun. I couldn't really see it clear from where I was, but it seemed sorta soft-like, its cloths were kind of draping around it."
"Could it have been a 'tree-woman' instead of a tree-man?" Merry asked, trying to contain his excitement.
Hal's broad face suddenly beamed. "That's it!" he said loudly, causing Fatty to jump. "I knowed there was something wrong, but I never thought it might be a female! That's just right!"
"An Ent-wife!" Pippin breathed excitedly.
Almost three hours later, Hal had been questioned and cross-questioned by Pippin and Merry. They had also done their share of clarifying their own experiences. Poor Master Halfast! He was beginning to look a bit harried, but as it was obvious that they believed him, he didn't seem to mind too much. Storytelling was thirsty work and both Pippin and Merry made certain that he was well supplied with ale. Finally, Sam brought the interview to an end.
"This has been interesting, to be sure, but Rosie's expecting me, and she'll be expecting you two soon after. And Mr. Bolger, too, of course," he added quickly. "Hal, will you be joining us?"
The other Hobbits straightened from the lounging positions they'd taken as Hal had been telling of his experience. Hal shook his head.
"Sorry, Sam, but my Peony will be waiting supper for me if I'm late. Didn't expect to be near this long!"
Pippin stood quickly and moved out of the booth they had been sitting at. Laying a hand over his chest, he gave Halfast a low bow, ignoring the interested looks he was getting from the other patrons of the Dragon. "We're deeply in your debt, Mr. Gamgee, for your time and all your kind assistance! I can't tell you how much it means to us!"
Merry added his own thanks, and an equally deep bow. Fredegar grunted and dipped him a bow as well, but straightened quickly. "M'sister's probably expecting me for supper, Sam, so thank Mistress Rose, but I'll have to decline this time."
Hal looked extremely disconcerted at the courtesy being offered him by the two young bucks from such prestigious families. He couldn't, however, be anything but pleased at their genuine gratitude. He was often heard to remark afterward that Captains Took and Brandybuck were as fine young gentleHobbits as you could want. Returning the bows with flustered grace, he mumbled faintly about being 'at their service'.
"Come, Hal, didn't I tell you it would be fine?" Sam asked with a large grin, clapping Hal on the shoulder as the stout Hobbit finally took his leave.
Pippin and Merry were fastening their Elven cloaks and Fatty was shrugging back into his own, still slightly damp one when Sam returned.
"You'll be stabling the ponies here, then?" Sam asked, pulling on his own cloak.
"Well, we decided to go on foot, you know," Pippin answered. He cupped his slightly rounded belly and laughed depreciatingly. "I must have increased several belt sizes in the last year!"
Merry and Pippin were taller now than any other Hobbits in the Shire, but even before their Journey with Frodo, Sam and the others of the Fellowship, they had been thinner and more adventurous than most. All Hobbits were descended from three different classes or breeds of creature. These were the Stoors, the Harfoots and the Fallohides. Harfoots had lived in foothills of mountains and had much to do with Dwarves. They were darker of skin, and smaller. The Stoors liked the water and many of them had lived along the banks of great rivers before moving west. The Fallohides were the least numerous of the three and were the most adventurous. They spoke with Elves, hunted more than tilled the land, and were usually taller and less stout than the other clans.
By Pippin and Merry's time, most Hobbits had intermingled bloodlines, but in the Tooks and Brandybucks, the Fallohide traits ran almost true, and it was evident in Pippin and Merry.
"I feel that I've been lazing about, getting fat and lazy," Merry complained. "That was why we wanted to walk. Besides, one sees more on foot and in the field than on pony-back on a road."
Sam merely shrugged. "Well, take up your packs then, gentlehobbits, and let us be on our way!"
It was just a few miles from the Green Dragon Inn in Bywater to the Hill and Bag End in Hobbiton. In fact, family legend gave it that Bilbo had made the distance in just over ten minutes once, when he had rushed from his home without a hat or even his pocket handkerchief, so he could go on an adventure with an old wizard and thirteen Dwarves! Fortunately for Bilbo, most of it had been downhill. With the miserable weather and the laden haversacks, though, the three friends were trudging up the lane and at Bag End almost an hour later.
Sam threw the door open, letting the warm light spill onto the doorstep. Pippin and Merry were greeted with the aroma of fresh baking and cooking and a cheerful smile from Mistress Rose.
"Well, Rose," Sam said gustily, "We're home!"