Disclaimer: All settings, scenes, and most characters belong to J.R.R.T. and family, estate, etc. Geography is only guessed at, so please excuse any inconsistencies. OC's belong to me, but I tried to make them as authentic as possible. The events and characters belong to JRRT et al.
SPOILERS: LOTR, both movies (thought not to as great an extent as I thought), and The Hobbit. If you've only seen the movies, the references to the Ents will be vague and confusing, so GO READ THE BOOKS!
Chapter 5
"Another two or three days on the road, wouldn't you say?"
After consulting their maps, Pippin and Merry had decided to strike out due west. They had skirted the Bindbole Wood north for some miles before reaching the end of the marshes. Wood and marsh were far behind and the terrain was rising steadily. Now the mountains they called Annuminas were visible in the distance and they knew that Long Cleeve lay in a fold of land in the foothills of those mountains. By Merry's reckoning, they would eventually come to the road that led to Needlehole and farther northeast toward to Oatbarton. They would simply cross over and continue west, and then it would be an easy trek to Long Cleeve.
Pippin, who had spoken, was looking forward to a bath, clean clothes and a large, leisurely meal, not necessarily in that order. He was sick to death of camp rations and vowed that the return journey would be on pony back with numerous stops along the way. Merry finally looked away from the distant horizon. He rolled his map and tucked it away in his now nearly empty pack.
"By my reckoning, we should make Long Cleeve in two days. Or, if you want to push on tonight, we might make it by evening tomorrow."
Pippin considered. "I can't imagine that any hazards lay ahead of us, now that we've passed the marshes. I seem to remember that the landscape is rather smooth and dry from this point. It does climb gradually, but nothing too drastic. I would prefer to continue!"
"Weary of your adventure already, cousin?" Merry asked, laughing. "Tut, tut! Remember, this was your idea!"
Pippin groaned. "Don't remind me!"
Diamond felt dirty and tired. She slipped into their spacious hole silently, trying to put off the inevitable confrontation with her father for as long as possible. The low, rounded hallway, lined with dark paneling and furnished with many coat hooks and comfortable benches was empty. Relieved, Diamond shrugged off her gathering sack and moved quietly along the passage, toward her bedroom. She tiptoed past the various doorways, peeking inside before hurrying past. Diamond longed for a bath to wash away the grime of her journey, and hoped she would be able to reach her room without meeting any of the family. She was nearly there, too, when her sister Ruby stepped out of one of the pantries. Diamond slipped back, into the main sitting room, but too late. Ruby spied her and screeched, alerting the entire household that their wanderer was returned.
"Father!" Ruby yelled, following her sister into the sitting room. "She's back! And she's a sight!"
Diamond could not prevent a sigh. Ruby had ever been a tattler. The older sister seemed to delight in causing trouble for her.
"Goodness, Ruby! What would your betrothed do if he heard you shrieking like that?" Diamond demanded, moving toward one of the many doors exiting the room. She was trying to make her escape before her father caught a look at her, but it wasn't to be.
She had only gone a few feet when the heavy tread of her father's footsteps could be heard thudding in their direction. Diamond swallowed and stood, rooted to the spot, while Ruby sniffed with satisfaction. Their father had expressly told Diamond to be present at the betrothal celebration, but she'd left anyway. He was bound to be furious!
"Diamond!"
The bellow resounded loudly in the large room, and a few seconds later the owner followed his voice. Begrobas Took was a large, stout hobbit with a broad, generally friendly face and red cheeks. He wore a fine linen shirt, the cuffs dangling loosely at his thick wrists, as though he'd not finished dressing yet. The waistcoat he wore, rich brocade with real copper buttons, seemed to affirm this, since it was not yet buttoned across his broad middle. His thick, curly hair, normally wrestled into some semblance of order was now spiked and furrowed, as though restless fingers had been raked through it ceaselessly. The normally good-humored expression on his face was replaced by one of wrath as he stormed into the room. He stomped up to Diamond; his large, furry feet loud even on the gleaming, thickly carpeted wooden floor.
"Explain yourself!" he demanded when he stood face to face with his troublesome daughter.
Diamond swallowed. "Well, Father, I…" She stopped, knowing that whatever she said would sound childish and selfish. She had purposely disobeyed her father and missed an important family gathering. And she really didn't have a good excuse.
"Well, miss? Speak up! What do you have to say for yourself? What reason have you for embarrassing your family and slighting your sister?"
Diamond couldn't resist a sidewise glance at Ruby, who had the grace to look away. That Diamond's absence was a bit of an embarrassment was true, but Ruby was probably thankful for it. Ruby had no more understanding of her unfeminine sister than any of her other siblings. Diamond's desire to compete with the lads and her taste for tales of adventure and daring were unhobbit-like and frowned upon. And Diamond would have been certain to annoy and irritate her sister, and possibly embarrass the family with her unusual ways, long before the celebration was done. Before Diamond could formulate any sort of answer, however, her mother walked placidly into the room.
"Now, Mister Took," she said in her quiet, gentle manner. "The lass has only just returned. From gathering those healing roots, it appears. Perhaps she should bathe first, and then, when she joins us for supper, she can explain things more clearly."
Taking one of his wrists and neatly buttoning the dangling cuff, Marigold Took gave him a smile.
"But, my dear," Begrobas said, extending the other arm, "'the lass' hasn't explained anything, yet, clearly or unclearly!"
"Of course not, dear," Marigold agreed. She buttoned the waistcoat as she continued. "And cannot until she's clean and fed. A wonderful suggestion, my dear, and I'll see to it straight away."
Giving her husband's waistcoat a firm pat, Marigold took her daughter's arm and led her away, ignoring Ruby's huff of indignation and Begrobas' grumbling complaints.
"Thank you, Mother," Diamond said a few minutes later in the bathing chamber. "I know Father is angry, but please do not try to make me believe my sister was unduly upset at my absence."
Marigold smiled at the most troublesome of all her ten children. "Of course your sister was not overly disturbed. Your father, however, is another matter."
As Diamond lowered herself into a large tub, Marigold picked up the discarded lad's garments. "Your father is proud of all of his children, including you," she said.
"He is ever looking to show all of you off, you know. He was quite disappointed that you were not on hand to meet Ruby's prospective in-laws."
"Hmph," Diamond snorted. "You mean he was disappointed that I did not formally meet my prospective brothers-in-law. Father is ever looking to shackle me to some respectable fellow who thinks 'adventure' is a foul word. And my brothers-in-law, I am sure, have no doubt been informed that I am not quite respectable."
"Diamond!" Marigold looked shocked.
"Oh, Mother, you know what I mean. I wear lad's clothing, I take adventures, I travel alone. I'm not frightened of Bindbole, and I rather enjoy ghastly tales of daring and battle. No," Diamond said firmly, "I am NOT quite respectable. And," she added quietly, almost to herself, "no respectable gentlehobbit would ever consider me as a wife."
A soft smile played on Marigold's lips. "We shall see, my dear," she whispered, bundling the soiled garments into a tight ball as she left. "We shall see."
"Well, there it is, Merry. Long Cleeve!"
Pippin and Merry had pushed hard yesterday and today to make the town before nightfall. After crossing the road to Needlehole, they had kept to their northwesterly route until they'd come on another road. This one looked to be going in the same direction they were traveling in, so they'd followed it. Soon enough they began passing farms and orchards. Barley, corn and wheat were ripening and looked ready to harvest soon. The orchards were full of apple trees, the bright red fruits plentiful and large. The cousins now passed farmers and herders along the road and exchanged greetings. Strangers were few in this northern region, and Pippin and Merry had more than their share of curious stares.
At last they stood on the crest of a small hill and looked away north. The road dipped into a deep valley and they could see the land rise on both sides of the road. A large stream (or small river, depending on your outlook) ran beside the road for some way before turning east and disappearing through the foothills. As twilight deepened, the hobbits could see lights coming on in the distance, on either side of the road. The sight was strangely heartening, and gave them the energy for the last leg of their journey.
"Now for it," Merry said. "The last push."
Shouldering their much-lightened packs, they set of at a good pace toward Long Cleeve.
Lower Long Cleeve reminded Merry very much of Bywater, with the collection of attractive houses facing the stream and lanes bordered by tall stately trees. Well-kept lawns led down to the banks of the streams and most homes had small gardens, though most were covered for the winter. It was homey and attractive, and Merry couldn't help wondering if Sam hadn't seen this small town and used it as a guideline when he'd gone up and down the Shire repairing the damage done by Saruman and his henchmen. Merry had heard that Long Cleeve, being so distant from the center of the Shire, had sustained very little damage. Pippin, however, had no eyes for the charm of Lower Long Cleeve. He was eager to be off, over the bridge and up the hill.
"Come on, Merry! This isn't the time for sightseeing when we're so close! Tomorrow I'll admire the village as much as you wish, but supper, bath and bed are close. Let's go!"
The climb up the hill was not nearly so long as Pippin remembered. But then on his last trip he had been an adventurous teen, and the prospect of visiting countrified, rustic (as he thought them) cousins had bored him completely. It still didn't excite him, but this time his visit had a purpose. He knew that once his obligatory visit was finished and he'd answered the riddle of the mail delay, he could be about the business of exploring. And perhaps they could find some news of the Entwives!
The path up the hill was hard packed, but lined with thick, lush grass. The doors opening onto the path were round and all neatly painted. Some of the doorways had potted evergreen shrubs or flower boxes on either side, and some had small arbors arched over the entryway with climbing vines. The windows, as in all hobbit holes, were deep. Most were set with frosted glass to let light in, but maintain privacy on such a public pathway. The cousins had passed several doorways, each with a letterbox and the occupant's name neatly printed. Pippin noted that all the letterboxes were empty of either incoming or outgoing mail, but then, that was to be expected, wasn't it? Soon, they came to a doorway that was much larger than the rest.
The door was round, as in most Hobbit dwellings, but it was a double door, split down the center so that either side could be opened separately or both could be opened at the same time. There was a wooden sign, old, faded and in need of repainting, hung over this entrance. As Pippin and Merry paused before the door, they could hear the hum of many voices coming from inside. Pippin looked up.
"Well, isn't that interesting," he said, nudging Merry and pointing up.
"Good heavens," Merry said. "Pippin, it cannot be that easy!"
Both hobbits carefully studied the sign. 'Hoom of the Shepherdess' it read. The letters were dark green over a painting of a vast forest at the foot of a mountain range.
"Very interesting," Pippin said. He stroked his chin and murmured, "Not a sign of any sheep, but acres and acres of forest. One must wonder what exactly the shepherdess herded."
"Do you think 'hoom' is a misspelling?" Merry asked.
They looked at one another, both remembering the distinctive rumbling sounds made by Treebeard and his people. 'Hoom' could be a misspelling of 'home', passed on from generation to generation, but Pippin was hoping it had some deeper meaning.
"Well, cousin," he said, "I propose that we enter this fine establishment and see what there is to see."
The interior of the 'Hoom' was unlike any inn or pub either had been in before. Pippin was certain he'd not come here on his previous visit. He would surely have remembered. Although it was located in a tunnel, dug out of the side of the cliff, the interior of the 'Hoom' was very much like a forest. The smooth, rounded walls had been skillfully plastered and painted like the boles of huge trees. The ceiling was painted, as well, to resemble the underside of a forest canopy. All of the furniture was made of wood, but not smooth, finished wood. Instead, the tables were huge tree trunks with large polished wooden slabs for tops. The chairs were made of branches, the backs intricately woven with unusual designs. There were several windows in the wall, but the glass was of a dark green, which, during the day, would no doubt give the interior a green tint.
As the cousins entered, several of the patrons stopped in mid-conversation to look at them. It was a mixed bunch that stared at Pippin and Merry. Many of the customers looked well to do, while others looked to be plain working hobbits, farmers, or merchants. As the proprietor, a rounded, balding person of uncertain years hurried to them, conversation began again.
"How do you gentlehobbits do?" he said, bowing low and seeming to puff with each bow. Straightening, he said, "Welcome to the Hoom. Can I show you to a table? You look like you've been on the road for some time. Perhaps you were wanting a room? Or a bath, perhaps? Our bathhouse is the finest in the North Farthing! We've a bit of a crowd, what with the Harvest celebration just around the corner, but I'm sure we can accommodate you with no difficulty. And I am Evangrim Clearwater, the owner,"
he added with another low bow.
Pippin and Merry had exchanged an amused glance during this long introduction. For some reason the owner reminded them both of Barliman Butterbur, the owner of the Prancing Pony in Bree. Mr. Clearwater's establishment was obviously prosperous. His manner of speech, though educated, was hurried and a bit countrified. But he had the same habit as old Barliman of speaking to one customer while his eyes restlessly swept the rest of the room to make sure nothing was amiss. And both had the same way of looking extremely busy and harried even when they were standing perfectly still.
"If you have a room for two, and baths, you'll have earned our sincerest gratitude!" Merry told him, smiling.
"And supper!" Pippin added. "Lots of supper for two very hungry hobbits!"
"Of course, sirs! If you'll just follow me, I'll show you to a room."
The owner led them away from the main room and to a side passage, maintaining a steady stream of conversation on the local doings, the weather, the harvest, and anything else that came to mind. The passage was, in contrast to the common room, quiet and well lit, with several doors on either side. "We have one window room left if you would like," he offered.
"Whatever you have, as long as the beds are soft," Merry assured him.
Pulling out a large ring of keys, the owner fitted one into the next door and opened it. The room was spacious enough. It had two small beds and a desk under the window. A pitcher and bowl stood on the chest of drawers, along with a lamp. The owner hurried across the room to light the lamp. Turning to them, he said, "Will this do, sirs?"
"This will be fine," Pippin assured him. He dropped his pack wearily on the end of one bed. "And the bathhouse?"
"Ah, this way, sirs."
He led them a bit farther down the passage and opened another door. It wasn't a bathhouse, of course, but a large bathing chamber. The room was huge, with several gleaming copper tubs and tables piled with towels. Scented soaps in small bowls were placed on a small stand beside each tub. The floor had been covered with large, smooth flagstones, set close enough together so that tender toes would not get caught, but far enough apart that water would run between them and away through a drain below. Pippin and Merry smiled their approval.
"I'll have my lad start heating the water," Clearwater said. "It shouldn't take more than a quarter of an hour. Would you like to rest in your room? Or would you sirs want to eat first?"
"Bath first!" Merry declared. "I'm not certain I could stand myself at the supper table, and we wouldn't want to chase your other customers away!"
"I agree," Pippin added. "As it is, my breeches could probably stand in the corner by themselves right now! First a bath, and then supper, if you please, Mr. Clearwater."
The owner nodded and led them back to their rooms, bowing low before leaving them. Merry dropped his pack on the floor and removed his travel-stained cloak. Pippin had already done and now threw himself onto his bed.
"Ah, now this is more like it!" he said with a sigh.
"You might want to wash your hair before you get too well acquainted with your pillow, Master Took!" Merry teased. "Right now it is rather a mess!"
Pippin jumped up and examined his pillow. Sure enough, there was a fine dusting of dirt on the clean linen. He quickly snatched it up and brushed it off.
"Well," he said, "I suppose we shall have to sit here and twiddle our thumbs until our baths are ready so we don't soil anything else."
"You may twiddle your thumbs, Pip, but I'm going to take out my only change of clothing so I'll have something clean to wear."
They both emptied their packs upon the chest of drawers and took stock. It was a good job that they'd finally reached Long Cleeve. They had only travel bars left of their food. The maps were smudged and dog-eared with constant handling. Pippin brought out a small treasure, though. Stuffed at the bottom of his pack was a set of brushes that Merry hadn't talked him into leaving behind. The clothing brush would probably take the worst of the grime from their cloaks, and the kit included a fine hairbrush and comb, and a stiff brush for the furry stuff that grew on hobbit feet. Merry whistled when he saw them.
"I can't believe you lugged that with you up here, but I am thankful! All I brought was a single comb!"
"Like my pipe and weed, these are more precious than rings to me," Pippin said, briefly remembering that fine day, two years ago, that he, Merry, Strider and Gimli sat quietly and smoked in the ruin of Orthanc. Clearing his throat and swiping briefly at his eyes, he added, "Besides, I must see my kin and make an impression. You are lucky enough that you may stay here while I endure the tortures of a social visit with relatives I don't even know!"
"Come now, Cousin Took," Merry said bracingly to relieve his cousin's embarrassment. "After the dangers we faced in Moria together, not to mention on the road to Isengard, a simple visit should be nothing! Besides, I would not desert you in your hour of need. I shall go with you! I'm curious about these North Tooks. Perhaps--," he paused at a knock on the door.
"If ye please, sirs, yer baths be ready!" came the call from without.
"At last!" Pippin gathered his things and, Merry right behind, headed for the bathing chamber.
The common room of the Hoom was crowded by the time Merry and Pippin had finished their supper. They'd also had two helpings of dessert each and were now comfortably ensconced at a table near the hearth with mugs of fine ale. The only thing that would have made the moment more perfect would have been a pipe, but their supply of pipe-weed had been exhausted some days ago. They would have to forgo pipes until they could restock. But they could and did sit back to listen to the conversation of the local citizens. There was much talk about the recent engagement of Ruby Took to one Everard Wheyfield, from over Oatbarton way.
Pippin knew that Ruby was a distant cousin, but he wasn't much interested in her engagement. From all accounts it was a good match, but even more important to the locals was that Begrobas Took had been generous to a fault with the customary gifts given out at these types of occasions. Pippin smiled at Merry.
"It seems my Uncle Roby's generosity makes him very popular in these parts," he murmured.
"I'm sure that if I still had four marriageable daughters, I would be generous too."
"Four? No, Merry, the eldest is already married. And now the second is engaged, so that leaves only three, though I think they are too young to be considered yet."
Merry shook his head sadly. "No. I was listening to some of the conversation while you were getting the ale. The eldest daughter was married, almost three years ago. But they were living near Hobbiton when we arrived back from the south. He was killed in the Battle of Bywater. Your cousin moved back home after."
Pippin stared, shocked. "I had no idea!"
"Well, and why should you? Your families have never been close. But, according to rumour, she is well over her mourning period and now ready to marry again. They had only been married for a few months, after all. And I understand she is very pretty, too."
Pippin took a sip of his ale and then gave Merry a long look. "Meriadoc Brandybuck, whatever it is you have on your mind, I don't like it," he said suspiciously.
Merry shook his head and spread his hands innocently. Mr. Clearwater came bustling over to their table before he could reply.
"Excuse me, gentlehobbits," he said with a low bow. "The other customers were just wondering, since you're strangers to this area, whether you have any stories or songs you could share? Perhaps some tales from away south?"
Pippin started. He suddenly had a vision of the Prancing Pony in Bree and the trouble a similar request had landed Frodo, and by association, himself, Merry, and Sam in. If it hadn't been for good old Strider, their quest would have been over before it had begun. But he and Merry had no dangerous secrets now. There really could be no harm in sharing a tale or two. Especially when he realized that by 'away south' Clearwater had meant the south of the Shire, and not Gondor or Rohan.
Merry looked equally startled, but recovered first. "Well, Pip? What do you say? Fancy a song?"
Pippin smiled and dismissed his reservations. "What could it hurt?"
Diamond was still smarting under the dressing down she'd received from her father after supper. Of course Ruby was there as the injured party and delighted in gloating at Diamond's embarrassment. Diamond couldn't understand her older sister. Ruby was all that an eligible young hobbit-maid should be: she was pretty and plump, deft with a needle, an excellent cook, and if that wasn't enough, her father was quite wealthy. Ruby wasn't extremely intelligent, but then, most of the fellows about here seemed not to consider that a liability. About the only area where Ruby might be faulted was that she had a tendency toward being a spend-thrift. But that was easily explained because she had a doting father. Her husband-to-be was plump enough in the pocket that this consideration could be shrugged away. Yet with all that she had in her favor, Ruby was ever seeking to embarrass her younger sister. Diamond shook her head as she donned the heavy lad's cloak she had hidden away in her room. She could not compete with her lovely older sister in any area except intelligence. Why, then, was Ruby forever trying to make Diamond's life even more uncomfortable?
Diamond listened at the door of her bedchamber until she was certain that everyone else was too occupied to notice any untoward noises from Diamond's room. When she was sure she could do so undetected, Diamond moved to her window, unlatched it, and slipped out of the room. She was lucky to have a room with a window, a concession her mother had gotten her a few years ago when it was obvious that love struck swains wouldn't be beating a path to her door. Once she was settled on the path, Diamond straightened and looked about. It was growing much colder and she did not think she would have the chance to venture out once the winter settled in for good, so Diamond was prepared to take advantage of whatever opportunities availed themselves to her now. Tonight, however, Diamond had no thoughts for a long journey. She merely wanted to escape the frowning disapproval she seemed to have earned from everyone except her mother. Tugging the hood up and pulling the cloak closely about her shoulders and lower face, Diamond slipped down the neat, well-tended path toward the local inn.
It was not often that Diamond chanced visiting the inn by herself. Even her adventurous spirit shrank from such blatant flouting of tradition as frequenting a public house unescorted. Diamond knew, though, that she would simply go mad if she had to remain in her room any longer. Her plan was simple: she would sneak in and remain in the shadows. From there she could watch the comings and goings and listen to the latest gossip, some of which would probably be about her. Then, when she was a bit more relaxed, she would sneak out and return home.
It was simple enough, and something she'd done before, though not often. Slipping into the large public house was easy. The difficult part would be to avoid the barman's eyes. He would expect a customer to be drinking, even if it were only a pint. Diamond decided to use a ruse that had been successful before. She slipped into the 'Hoom' and looked quickly around. One table near the back of the large common room was empty, but a mug still stood there, waiting to be collected. Moving swiftly, Diamond slipped into the chair and wrapped a hand around the mug handle. Now she looked much like any of the other travelers in the dark. As long as she kept her hood over her head, she should be fine.
A stir from the center of the room caught Diamond's attention. The proprietor, Mr. Clearwater, was announcing that one of their guests traveling from away south was going to honor them with a song. Diamond couldn't help a tiny smirk. Like most inhabitants of the far north portion of the North Farthing, Diamond had a low opinion of 'those southerners' and she had not been impressed with Opal's husband, even though her sweet eldest sister had been devoted to him. He'd been well enough, but a bit too soft and comfortable for Diamond's tastes. She shifted in her chair to better view this traveler, curious to see if he, too, looked like he'd been living a soft life. The stranger, still in the shadows near the hearth, strode into the center of the room and the superior smirk on Diamond's thin face froze.
Here was hobbit worthy of the fantasies of young lasses. He was taller than even Diamond's eldest brother, whom most of the North Farthing hailed as a throwback to old Bullroarer. In fact, Diamond had never seen a hobbit of such height. Although he had a slight bulge in his middle, this stranger was not plump and round, as was usual among hobbits. Instead of being nervous and uncomfortable, this one held himself with an unconscious dignity that Diamond found fascinating. He wasn't, strictly speaking, handsome, being too thin and tall, but he was certain to catch the eye of any maiden in view. In fact, Diamond noted dryly, some of the serving lasses were peeking out from the kitchens, apparently in hopes of catching a better view of the stranger. And then he spoke.
"Friends, hear now a tale of courage and heroism far beyond that of most Men or Hobbits," the stranger cried. Instantly, all speech in the inn ceased. "Picture a kingdom fallen on evil times but newly redeemed. It has pulled itself out of ignominy and has again shown itself as proud and honorable on the field of battle. One enemy is now destroyed, but another, mightier enemy arises from the south. Dark is the name of the other enemy and few dare speak it. Vast are the armies of the Dark Lord. But though the kingdom is weakened from its earlier battle it is bound with oaths of friendship and loyalty to help its allies in the east. Death is almost certain, but honor demands that the King of Rohan ride into battle, beside his ancient allies in Gondor in their final dark days. His troops assemble and he rides out, not knowing that with him rides one whom he loves as dearly as his own child…"
His strong, clear voice rang out throughout the room and Diamond listened, as fascinated as everyone else. Breathless, Diamond realized she was about to hear a new tale, one never heard in the Hoom before. "Listen, now, friends, to the Ballad of the White Lady of Rohan…"
A/N2: I have written a ballad, for this part, but it isn't complete and that is what has been taking so long. This is the end of the chapter, and if I ever finish the ballad, I'll add it in the next chapter, but it is daunting when trying to make up something worthy of being placed in a LOTR work.