*Events in Where the Shadows Lie. You don't have to have read it to follow this though.

Ffnet: obidawnkenobi- thank you 😊

Note: I'm very aware that Erestor is not getting what we would consider appropriate emergency burn care and that he really does need to be in a special care unit. But hey, he's had the very best care that the wilds of Middle Earth can offer. A human wouldn't survive this without IV and a critical unit care, but this is Erestor, survivor of Beleriand Wars, the Last Alliance, and all that other stuff. And he does have Elladan and Maglor keeping him alive.

For artworks that have been gifted for this fic, please go to Archive of Our Own and look under ziggy

Beta: Anarithilien. Thank you as always.

Chapter 46: Fealty

Pippin shook his cloak out and pulled it over his shoulders, shifted his sword which Aragorn had returned to him, and set off to climb to the top of the hill. It was his turn to take the watch and he could see Baranor sitting on the fallen stones above. There had been a bit of a debate amongst the hobbits and since it was Pippin's watch, he had agreed to act on behalf of all of them.

He reached the flat area where the horses were grazing and his own pony, Flash, raised his head and whickered softly at Pippin, which made him feel appreciated. But Erestor's tall black horse, Niphredil, was standing on her own looking miserable. Her head was low and when one of the Cardolan ponies from Bree came too close after a juicy dandelion, she swung her head at the pony bad temperedly. Pippin thought the mare looked so miserable, mourning Erestor as badly as Elladan, and he gave her a little pat as he passed. She laid her ears back and bared her teeth at him like she was smiling, thought Pippin pleased.

He clambered up the steep side of the hillfort and found Baranor, who had been on the last watch of the night or first watch of the day, however you looked at it. Baranor had put away the armour of his ancestor and looked just like any other Ranger now. But Pippin thought he was probably a lot more comfortable.

'Hullo Baranor,' he said and stood panting slightly as he got to the top of the hill.

Baranor nodded at him and smiled tiredly. 'My lord Peregrine, you are awake at last.'

'Been up since the crack of dawn,' Pippin lied brazenly.

With a laugh, Baranor said, 'Were you indeed! Your cousins were complaining about you snoring, although I heard nothing up here.'

'It is a fact that Merry snores so loudly he wakes himself up,' Pippin said brightly. 'And Sam is the worst. They both snore and wake each other up. Nothing disturbs me as I have become so used to them.' He bestowed a wide smile upon Baranor and offered him his pipeweed pouch.

'That is kind of you indeed, my lord Peregrine,' Baranor laughed and took a pinch of the lovely aromatic Harad Gold that Pippin had received from Gimli last Yule. He had been saving it for just such an occasion.

'It really is time you called me Pippin please,' Pippin said for all this lord this and sir that was not really him at all. 'Only the Sackville-Bagginses call me Peregrine.'

'Sackville-Bagginses?' asked Baranor curiously. 'Who, or what, are Sackville-Bagginses?'

Pippin pulled his own pipe from his pocket and stuffed the bowl, struck a light from Baranor's proffered flint and took a lovely big lungful of smoke. 'They are a fearsome bunch that live near Bag End. Or they used to,' Pippin said. 'They stole Bilbo's silver spoons,' he said. 'Lobelia was especially scary. Not as bad as the Balrog,' he said cheerily. And then added little boastfully, 'And certainly not as bad as the Witchking of Angmar in Minas Tirith when he swooped down upon Gandalf on his terrible winged beast thing and only I stood between them…' He was aware of the wide-eyed respect in Baranor's bright blue eyes and continued, 'but a Sackville-Baggins with a bagful of silver spoons is not to be trifled with at all.'

'What do they use the spoons for?' Baranor asked confused, but he wasn't really paying attention and Pippin saw that Baranor was really more interested in what was happening in the camp below and followed his gaze. Aragorn had reappeared and was slowly walking towards Elladan and Vanwë. He stopped when he reached them and spoke to Vanwë, who looked up at him slowly as if considering. Then Vanwë rose to his feet and held out a knife, hilt first, as if he were returning it to Elladan. Pippin thought that was very strange.

'It is less important what they were using the spoons for and more important that they had taken them,' Pippin explained slowly, because really Baranor was quite like Aragorn in many ways and needed things explaining.

'And the spoons were important?' Baranor frowned as if concentrating, but he wasn't, Pippin knew. He was far more interested in Aragorn and Vanwë wandering away together to sit upon some rocks, talking quietly.

'Those spoons were a gift from the Tooks on Belladonna's marriage to Bungo Baggins!' Pippin explained. 'So if anyone was going to have them, it should have been a Took.'

'I see,' said Baranor, who clearly didn't. He wasn't paying attention but watching Sam bustling about and Frodo carrying water from the pool and taking it to Elladan to spoon into Erestor's mouth.

Pippin huffed and shook his head in disbelief that Men had so little regard for genealogy, a particular interest of hobbits. 'What you need to understand, Baranor, is the idea of heirlooms,' Pippin said. 'Like that horn of yours.'

That got Baranor's attention and allowed Pippin to launch into a lengthy, and somewhat embellished explanation of the provenance of the famous silver spoons.

'Ah, so that is why the silver spoons were so much desired by the Sackville-Bagginses,' Baranor said. 'And what has happened to them now? I believe that Bilbo Baggins now lives in Imladris so did he take them with him?'

Well this gave Pippin a marvellous opportunity to expound a version of the events that had unfolded when Frodo and his friends had returned to the Shire and Hobbiton in particular. In this highly exaggerated and stylised version, it was Pippin who took centre stage and Merry, Sam, Frodo and (even more unforgivably) Bill the Pony were merely supporting actors in the great ending that Pippin himself had clearly brought about.

Since all that was happening in the camp was that Sam was bustling about as he always did, and the other hobbits were doing nothing of interest, and Aragorn and Vanwë were still talking and there was no sign of Legolas and Gimli, Pippin found that he had Baranor's attention again and enjoyed himself thoroughly, telling Baranor how he had unmasked Saruman in his lair. Baranor made admiring and appreciative comments on Pippin's cleverness in a most gratifying manner.

'I did tell Wormtongue that he did not need to follow his master,' Pippin said shamelessly appropriating Frodo's own generous words. 'But he would not yield and so at last, he met his end.' He shook his head sadly.

'It is a marvel to me that I am sitting here with such a hero of the War!' Baranor exclaimed. 'To think that the Shire would now be under the yoke of Saruman without your final blow that killed that wretched Wizard. Not only The Shire in truth, but The Angle and perhaps even Imladris itself!'

'Well I don't like to boast,' said Pippin, and leaned back in the long grass with one hairy foot resting on the opposite knee.

Baranor stared at Pippin's generously proportioned feet as if he could not quite believe them, and Pippin waggled them smugly.

Drawing in a deep lungful of smoke, he decided he liked Baranor very much. 'But don't remind the others please. I keep my own part in these tales quiet and wish to take nothing from them.'

'Of course,' Baranor glanced at Pippin approvingly and puffed thoughtfully on his own very plain, long stemmed pipe. Basking in this warmth and adulation, Pippin decided to send Baranor a new pipe when he returned to the Shire. A Michel Delving special such as he had himself back in the Smials. But it was also the time to bestow the gift upon Baranor that Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin himself had decided to give him. A much more important gift than a pipe. After all, according to Legolas, Baranor was really the Lord of Cardolan.

'As you know, we were given the Mergyll-Dagnir by Tom Bombadil,' Pippin began, looking out over the downs that rolled away east and south. 'It seems strangely fortuitous now that we were captured by the Barrow Wights in the first place, for if we had not he would never have found them to give to us,' he said softly. 'Vanwë said that if Angmar had known we had them, he would never have set foot upon the battlefield at Minas Tirith.' He thought about Frodo's thin, pale face. 'I wish we had known the power of these blades when the Nazgûl came upon us on Amon Sûl. We might have driven them off before Frodo was struck by the morgûl blade.'

Baranor said nothing but his hand drifted to the hilt of the dagger that Merry had given him when he had gone after Dods and Iberic. 'Merry lent me this to help me against the Barrow Wights,' he said. 'It must be returned to him for with it, he helped defeat the Witchking himself.'

'Well,' Pippin began very importantly. 'Frodo and Sam and Merry and I have made a decision about the Mergyll-Dagnir. We are giving them to you. Here.' He slipped the sheath from his sword belt and held it out towards Baranor. The strange black metal sheath glittered with fiery stones and seemed to tingle in his hands a little. He thought there was something in these blades that seemed almost alive. For a moment he was reminded him of Elrohir's old sword, Aícanaro that had been sent into the Dark*.

Baranor stared at Pippin. 'But I cannot. You have done such great deeds with them that they cannot be mine.'

'Well, not yours then, but Cardolan's. Put it this way then: we are giving them back. We have borrowed them and now we are returning them to where we found them, with our thanks.'

Baranor looked down at the blade that Pippin held it out to him.

Pippin smiled at his reticence. 'It was you who sounded that horn, and Legolas says that means that you are the one who freed the faithful. It was the horn that awoke the ghosts of the Men of Cardolan, Legolas says, who came to help us against the Barrow Wights. He says that you are going to restore the lost kingdom.'

Baranor looked uncomfortable. 'It is surely it is the King who will fulfil the prophesy.'

'Legolas says it's you,' repeated Pippin determinedly. 'And he is quite often right.'

Baranor licked his lips and looked away and Pippin wondered why he was anxious.

At last Baranor said uneasily, 'You must not say this again. It is the King who will bring peace to these lands. It is he who will restore the lost kingdom. I am just a Ranger.'

'Aragorn is just a Ranger,' Pippin said with spirit. 'Anyway, Cardolan is yours by rights. The Mergyll-Dagnir are yours by right.' Pippin thought for a moment and then he added, 'Legolas thinks the Palantír should be yours too.'

Baranor looked horrified. 'No. The Palantír is definitely the King's. He has to fulfill the prophesy. If he doesn't, how can there be peace in Cardolan? It is all I want; I want nothing for myself.'

'Aha!' Pippin shouted in triumph. 'Exactly. Which is why you would be perfect. Merry said you'd refuse. Here you are.' And without further ado, Pippin pushed the Mergyll-Dagnir at Baranor so that Baranor had no choice but to take it.

'There. That wasn't so hard,' Pippin said with satisfaction, even though he felt a tremor of loss as he handed over his sword for it had been with him for the War and beyond and he suddenly felt a little lost without it. 'Merry and Frodo have agreed that you should keep that one too,' he said, indicating the second dagger that was already at Baranor's belt. 'It's just a shame we haven't got the other two blades but at least they are actually in the Iaun-Gynd somewhere so your ancestors can find them when the day comes' Pippin said with his usual brightness.

Baranor looked stunned. 'I am overwhelmed by your faith in me,' he said looking down at Pippin's sword.

'Well I knew there was something about you the moment I met you in the Prancing Point,' said Pippin. He felt justified in feeling a little smug, and it was a compensation for losing his sword. After all, if he hadn't spotted Baranor and at once seen the young Man's potential for greatness, none of this would have happened! He wondered if that meant that Baranor was his protégé, in the same way that Pippin himself was Gandalf's, he thought, picking his teeth for there was a bit of sausage from breakfast lodged between his molars. He chewed it thoughtfully.

'Look, Legolas and Gimli have returned,' said Baranor, pointing to the furthest slope where the Elf and Dwarf now appeared, striding purposefully upwards toward the camp. There was a friendly call from Sam as they approached, and Gimli lifted his hand in greeting but Legolas did not speak; he was watching Aragorn and Vanwë who still sat away from the rest of the company and still were deep in conversation.

But Vanwë lifted his head and seeing Legolas, beckoned him over and Legolas was quick to respond, jogging over to them and while he did not sit, he listened carefully as first Vanwë, and then Aragorn spoke. Legolas nodded frequently at whatever it was that they said.

'Something's up,' said Pippin.

Legolas leaned in towards Aragorn, listening intently and his face was so earnest and hopeful that Pippin was suddenly anxious, and then the Elf glanced up towards Pippin as if it were Pippin of whom they spoke, but the Elf didn't wave and that was really odd. He kept looking approvingly at Aragorn as if Aragorn had done something that had pleased him. After a while, Elrohir joined them, standing slightly behind Legolas. Then Vanwë spoke to Elrohir and Elrohir looked over his shoulder at Elladan and then turned back to Vanwë and spoke again.

'They're talking about Erestor,' said Baranor. He sighed. 'We will have to move him. He can't stay out here with no proper facilities. At least if we can get him to Bree, it will be dry and warm. There are sterile dressings and medicines.' Baranor spoke as if he had thought about this before. 'There is not the facility in Bree or Imladris or the Angle, and there is too great a risk of infection out here. There is no further treatment they can that will save him. I have seen Elves recover from injuries that would kill a Man but this…I am amazed he yet lives.'

Pippin felt a cold weight in his belly like a stone. It wasn't fair. Erestor had saved Pippin and he felt obliged and grateful. He wished there was something he could do. He looked back down to the small group, willing them to work a miracle. But then, that had already been done, for Erestor should be dead already.

Now Legolas was speaking, resting his hand upon Elrohir's shoulder as if to reassure him. That, in Pippin's view, was not a good sign at all.

Aragorn nodded to Legolas, who was still talking, and rose to his feet. As if in sadness, Aragorn lay his hand upon Elrohir's shoulder too and seemed to guide Elrohir away and back to where Erestor lay. As they approached, Elladan lifted his head heavily and listened as Elrohir spoke, his face still numb with grief. He lifted the edge of one loose cover and Aragorn knelt and peered beneath it at the terrible ruined body.

Pippin watched intently as Aragorn glanced at Elrohir; his face was very serious. Elrohir said something then and Elladan nodded as if acquiescing to something his brother had asked.

'Is Erestor…?' Pippin began, but the words failed him.

Baranor glanced at him seriously. 'I do not know. But as I said, we cannot look after him properly out here.' He indicated the wild and empty moor, the long grass that the wind rushed through and the ruins of the hillfort above them.

Pippin felt a dreadful heaviness in his chest. 'But what about the Palantír? Vanwë and Elladan used it before. Why can't they use it again?'

Baranor shrugged. 'Perhaps they have done all they can with it. Perhaps it needs to…I don't know, recover from the power it has used?' He shook his head. 'I think that if Vanwë and Elladan could have done anything more, they would have. I suspect Erestor needs the skill of Elrond now. And his healers. Perhaps Elrohir will go for him. His horse is the fastest I know and Elrohir is one of the most skilful riders. Elrond could be brought to Bree within days.'

Pippin bowed his head and fiddled with the buttons on his jacket miserably. He could not forget that burnt away, melted half face and he thought of the fairness and grace of the Elves and wondered what would happen to Erestor, even if he did survive this. Would he sail now to Valinor where the Elves were supposed to find healing? Frodo had said that Elrohir and Elladan's mother was supposed to have found healing over the Sea. But Pippin could not really imagine Erestor in some blissful paradise.

Then he remembered the expression, the wistfulness on Frodo's tired eyes when he had said that. He thought then it might be very good to get Frodo to Rivendell after all and that they should go with Erestor.

'The King is coming,' Baranor said suddenly, and sure enough, Aragorn had left his brothers and Erestor and was climbing steadily up the steep slope towards them. He looked up and met Pippin's gaze, smiled, and then called to Baranor. 'I would speak with you if I may, Baranor.'

Baranor nodded and scrambled to his feet. He glanced down at the Mergyll-Dagnir and hastily tucked each one into a boot that looked like they had been used for similar purposes many times before. Then with a quick smile at Pippin, he half ran towards Aragorn, who had stopped and waited now for him. Then he turned as Baranor joined him, and the two Men walked away towards the Keep, heads bent and talking quietly.

Pippin blew out and wondered what was so important that they had to speak privately. It was frustrating to be left alone upon the crumbled rampart of the old hill fort when all the excitement was happening just a little too far away for him to know what was going on. He filled the bowl of his pipe with pipeweed and sucked hard to draw the smoke. He would have preferred to be amongst his friends, for he felt upset by the idea that Erestor might not recover. But he knew that he had to stay on watch even now. He had learned that on the quest.

Gimli had gone amongst the hobbits and the camp was astir. It looked like they were about to move, thought Pippin and he scanned the hills and downs to check nothing had changed since he last looked and there was no tell-tale mist creeping over the moor. But the sky was blue, small white clouds scudded high up and skylarks were singing.

Below in the camp, Sam seemed to have taken charge and was telling everyone what to do. There was much movement, kicking out the fires, packing up the last items. Dods and Merry were going towards the ponies and Frodo went about the camp picking things up and putting them carefully into packs.

Pippin looked about and picked up his own tinderbox and pipeweed pouch and put them into his pocket and then straightened up, easing out the muscles and bones of his spine. He saw that the two Men had wandered away amongst the ruined walls of the ancient hill fort and then sat for a while on a crumbled old rampart, Aragorn talking earnestly all the while.

Every now and again, Baranor looked up at Aragorn, a little shyly, and nodded. Then Aragorn laid his hand upon Baranor's shoulder and smiled, and Pippin was pleased that they seemed to be getting along so well. He wondered if Aragorn was going to ask Baranor to return with him to Gondor because he needed good Men around him that he could trust, especially after the terrible events of the previous year when the city had tossed and turned in restless rebellion for a while.*

At last, Aragorn seemed satisfied with whatever they had been speaking about and now both were returning. Baranor met Pippin's concerned gaze and smiled, looking a little dazed.

'Pippin,' called Aragorn, 'come down and join us for a moment. I think we are safe to lift the watch for a while.'

Pippin scrambled to his feet and headed down the hillside and into the camp while Aragorn gathered the company beneath the ash tree where Erestor lay.

At last everyone had gathered round and even Elladan had looked up from his sad vigil. The ash tree was reflected perfectly in the still pool. A skylark was singing overhead, its song reaching up and up and up as the little bird spiralled higher. Then it began to plummet back towards the ground, its song dropping away as it descended. Long grass whispered in the warm breeze and gradually the company assembled and fell silent.

Merry shrugged at Pippin but Frodo smiled broadly and suddenly the old Frodo was back. The one who was carefree and merry, the one before the Quest. It distracted Pippin for a moment from what was taking place and he caught Sam watching Frodo with the same anxious look.

'Friends, let us gather round,' said Aragorn. His hand rested upon Baranor's shoulder, who rubbed a hand over his beard, and Pippin thought he looked a bit embarrassed, overwhelmed.

Aragorn is being King, Pippin thought. He bent his head towards Merry and whispered, 'What's happening? This all seems a bit formal.'

'Shh,' Sam tutted at them.

'I have called us together so that you might bear witness,' Aragorn went on solemnly. 'I, Elessar of the House of Telcontar do charge Baranor, son of Halbarad and Brianna of Cardolan, to take up the fiefdom of Cardolan, to rule as its lord, and as my kinsman. This is given as a reward for his courage and bravery in aiding the quest of Frodo Baggins, Samwise Gamgee, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrine Took, who valiantly came to rid the Barrow Downs of the Wights that have haunted them and persecuted our people…'

Surreptitiously, Pippin nudged Merry and hissed out of the side of his mouth, 'We didn't really. We just came to have a look…'

'Yes, and it's just as well…' Merry began but Sam quelled them both with a look and they turned sheepishly back to Aragorn, who didn't seem to have noticed.

'And in the face of great danger to himself, rode to the aid of Doderic and Iberic, kinsmen of Meriadoc Brandybuck, a hero of the war, and who is dear to me.'

Merry nudged Pippin and grinned at him. He opened his mouth to say something but again, Sam glared at them so fiercely that Merry closed his mouth with not so much as a word.

'I can think of no one better,' Aragorn was saying, 'no one more entitled or more suited to the guardianship of Cardolan than Baranor son of Halbarad. And for the sake of my dear friend, I swear before you as my witnesses that I shall treat him as a son and be as a father to him.'

Pippin was so happy he burst into a cheer, and to his delight, first Legolas joined in and then the other hobbits, even Sam, and Gimli stamped his feet in the usual Dwarvish tradition of approval.

Blushing furiously, Baranor stepped forward and knelt before Aragorn. He bowed his head and unsheathed his sword which he presented hilt first to Aragorn. His voice did not ring as Aragorn's, but it was firm and purposeful. 'I, Baranor of Cardolan, son of Brianna and Halbarad, do accept the guardianship and fiefdom of these lands and will rule it under your protection, King Elessar of the House of Telcontar. I pledge my allegiance to you and your House for all time and as long as I have breath, as long as the stones of Cardolan stand.'

Pippin clapped wildly, and Aragorn pulled Baranor to his feet and hugged him. And that seemed to release something because Legolas whooped and hugged Aragorn, swinging him around in a ridiculous way, and Gimli thumped his axe haft on the ground. Sam and Frodo clapped and Merry joined Legolas, catching Pippin as he did.

0o0o

They were leaving Barad-Arth at last.

Elrohir and Gimli had cut two slender limbs from the ash tree and lashed thin rope about them to form a base which Legolas and Baranor had covered with the cloaks and then laid Elladan and Elrohir's thick fur cloaks over the whole structure. Gimli had tested the fastenings to ensure they would not give. It made a stable and comfortable stretcher upon which to carry Erestor, and now Elladan and Aragorn were carefully placing his still body upon it so that he could be carried with as little jolting as possible. It was decided that Elrohir and Elladan would bear it at first and they would swap around between the others and use Barahir and Baraghur if necessary as their paces were the best matched. But for the descent, men were better than horses. The Elves' horses stood close by, heads low and tails swishing away the flies except for Niphredil, who stood beside Elladan and snuffled gently at his hand.

Pippin wandered towards the shallow pool where Merry was filling up water bottles. 'Last few bottles,' Pippin said, holding them out.

Merry took the empty ones and handed full ones to Pippin in exchange. 'Give these to Sam and Dods, Pip. And can you check Frodo's is full?'

Sam was holding Bill's bridle while Dods helped Iberic to climb onto the pony's broad, strong back. Nearby, Frodo was gathering up the last few packs.

'Is your bottle full, Frodo?' asked Pippin. 'We don't know when we will come across water again so make sure you are well stocked.'

Frodo nodded, slinging a pack over the back of Pippin's pony, Flash, who looked offended at the burden. 'I think that's everyone,' Frodo said and looked about. His face grew concerned and Pippin followed his gaze.

Vanwë was standing on his own, a little way from the rest of the group. He stood looking not eastwards towards the Greenway where they were headed, but north, towards the Iaun-Gynd. Legolas went and stood beside him. It was only then that Pippin noticed that neither Elf had packed their belongings. Vanwë's helm and bow were still beneath the ash tree and Legolas, who if anything travelled even more lightly, had left his cloak there too. Arod stood at Legolas' shoulder, looking in the same direction as if he too were perusing the ancient barrow.

'What are they doing?' Pippin asked, suddenly anxious.

Merry said softly, 'More importantly, where are they going?'

Baranor came towards the hobbits then. He had put on again the armour of the Last Prince, even though Pippin thought he would find it hot and uncomfortable. Under his arm was the enigmatic helm. He smiled at Pippin, and stopped when he reached Frodo.

Baranor looked around at the hobbits, who gathered about him in concern. 'I have to come to bid you farewell,' he said, smiling, 'for here we must part.'

'Where are you going, Baranor, if you're not coming with us?' Pippin asked. He was surprised, and truthfully, he felt a little upset that they would lose Baranor's company so soon, especially since it seemed that Vanwë and Legolas might not be travelling with them either.

Baranor looked about and gestured to the wild moor. 'The King has made this my home now. I intend to make it so,' he said. He looked so happy that Pippin could not begrudge him.

'Well you are always welcome in the Smails. Tea is at 3 o'clock and again at 4 o'clock, dinner at six and supper at seven. Come anytime.'

'Much have I heard of the valour of hobbits, but to have fought in your company is an honour I had never thought to have.' Baranor bowed courteously to Frodo first, and then to each of the hobbits. But he lingered on Pippin and gave him the widest of smiles. 'But I will remember also the lesson in humility that you have taught me, Pippin Took, and remember that one should not seek glory for oneself but simply do what is needed.'

Pippin shot a quick look at Frodo and Sam for he remembered his slightly, very slightly embellished account of their return to the Shire. Merry snorted and Sam looked sceptically at Pippin, but Frodo laughed softly.

'A lesson indeed, my lord Baranor, Prince of Cardolan, and one that we should all learn. We wish you well. And the borders of the Shire will be safer for your guardianship.' Frodo nodded wisely and smiling, held out his hand to Baranor, who took it. 'It is good to know that you will be guarding our borders, our ally in both peace and war.'

Baranor paused for a moment, looking at each of the hobbits, and then he smiled and nodded, and walked back towards Vanwë and Legolas. Legolas turned and inclined his head slightly as if in invitation, and only then did Pippin realise.

'Legolas is going with them,' he said.

'Yes,' said Frodo softly. 'They are returning to the Iaun-Gynd. Baranor is replacing the Mergyll-Dagnir.' He looked like he was going to say something else but thought better of it and said nothing more.

Vanwë had begun to walk away too, but down the steeper side towards the Iaun-Gynd. Baranor followed. Legolas turned to Arod and spoke quietly for a moment and then he too went after Vanwë and Baranor.

'But is Legolas leaving us too?' Merry asked surprised.

'No,' Sam said, who seemed to know all about it as well as Frodo. 'He'll catch up with us. That's why Arod is here. It's Baranor and Vanwë who are staying.'

'Staying?'

'You heard what Baranor said,' Frodo said patiently. 'He is going to make this his home. Elrohir is taking a message to the Angle so that his people will begin to join him here.' He gazed at Vanwë though and his face was troubled. 'But I do not think that Vanwë will stay. Long enough to see the Mergyll-Dagnir restored perhaps, but that is all.'

The sunlight caught on Baranor's armour, flashing brilliantly. Pippin thought of Eldarion, the Last Prince and how he must have stood here in despair as the tide of Orcs and Men from Rhudaur must have advanced upon his people, scrambling to what they thought would be the safety of the Iaun-Gynd. He remembered the blue stone brooch that Tom had taken from the hoard they had found when Tom had broken open the barrow, the blue had been many-shaded like flax-flowers or the wings of blue butterflies.

'Fair was she who long ago wore this on her shoulder,' Tom had said sadly. 'Goldberry shall wear it now, and we will not forget her!'

Pippin wondered who she had been. He hoped that she had somehow escaped the dreadful fate of so many of her people under the earth. But he knew the answer really, for the brooch would not have been there at all had she escaped.

'Come,' Aragorn called to the company and Elrohir and Elladan set off first with the stretcher between them, the Elves' black horses followed. Aragorn was on foot and his big, patient horse, Roheryn, walked beside him. Gimli too was on foot. Then the Hobbits. The company made its way down the long slope that led from the hillfort onto the Barrow Downs and towards the Greenway.

Halfway down the slope, Pippin turned and looked back over his shoulder. 'I didn't even say goodbye to Vanwë,' he realised. A sudden pang wrenched his heart. There had, he realised, been an essential loneliness about the Elf that Pippin thought bespoke of some dreadful, aching grief. He wished he had said made a point of bidding him farewell and lifted his hand in a forlorn gesture. They were probably a little too far away now, he thought.

With a deep sigh, Pippin clicked to Flash and the pony broke into a jog to catch up with the rest of their company. They rode down the sloping hillside and then up the next. The long grass whispered in the breeze that was warm in the early Summer. Butterflies floated from one tall flower to another and skylarks sang in the high blue sky.

Pippin was beside Aragorn now and instinctively looked down for the leather satchel. It was not there. Pippin craned his neck to see if Elladan had it. Or Elrohir. But they did not have it either. He began to look about himself in consternation. No. It wasn't there.

A horrible thought struck him.

Ascatar-axo was gone.

0o0o