Chapter 34
Pippin Took rode a shaggy piebald pony at a gentle pace, humming along with a chorus of crickets from the surrounding fields. He looked happily up at the newly leafed treetops as if immensely pleased with the state of things in this part of the Shire-a perfectly pleasant spring turning to a green and warm summer…and he laughed out loud at the sight of a doe whose twin fawns had now grown enough to leap after her and practice a few sassy kicks at the same time.
All was well, and as the road curved to the west, he admired the sunset and fluffy clouds glowing in hues of orange.
"Here we are," he said to his pony when he spied the non-descript hay barn on the right hand side of the road. He steered for the narrow, barely worn path that meandered across a sloping field. There were no actual hobbit holes in sight, but the well-weathered out-building looked like a good stopping place.
Which it was, he told himself.
In addition to being something a bit more than that.
The proof of its double purpose became apparent as he approached and saw the doors of the old barn at Waymoot opening for him.
"Evenin' to ya," the door master said as Pippin rode inside.
"Moro Bunce!" Pippin greeted him as he dismounted and handed over the pony's reins. "Good to see you, lad."
"Aye…there's supper in the kitchen, but best you'd check your mailbox first."
Pippin, of course, expected as much. After a few words about the weather, he accepted a hand lantern and took himself to a particular pony stall (rarely used), hung his lantern on a hook, and slid a certain board aside to reveal an old iron kettle that served as the "mailbox."
Inside he found one letter addressed to M. Leufroy Frogbank, Crickhall, sealed in bronze-colored wax with the icon of a raven in flight. All this on a Shire-made paper envelope-a supply of which he'd personally delivered to this correspondent just last year.
Pippin quickly unsealed the message, checked that it confirmed the plans communicated to him in the previous month, and was dated last week. He could expect visitors in the next day or two! All was good, and he couldn't help a big smile.
He was preparing, after all, for the arrival of Lady Oldburrowes (Queen Nÿr) and her three children with their nanny, along with Lightfoots (elves).
"Pork," he said aloud. "We'll need a good supply for that many Oldburrowes…and a nice supply of fresh spring salad greens for the Lightfoots."
With that, he tucked the letter inside his vest and closed up the mailbox…heading for the kitchen and a check of the larder, particularly concerned about the status of the ale barrels.
Which perhaps he might just need to sample.
Skirfir met his former Ushmar foster-father as Kili strode purposefully from the royal family's quarters to the main hall. He wore the King's full battle regalia along with his sword, and his expression was as grim as if he were really going forth to fight a dragon.
"All is well?" Skirfir asked as he held up a hand and stopped his Lord and King to check the fall of his cloak and brush the fur trim on collar and shoulders.
"Yes," Kili said. He was unhappy and Skirf knew it.
"She is more worried than anyone can tell," Kili murmured. "But we have to trust that our plans will work. She is well guarded."
Skirfir didn't answer. The Queen was doing something that dwarf lasses with bairns had generally avoided for at least two ages: leaving their underground homes and going out into the world…and in his experience, this sort of adventure was never smooth.
Satisfied that Ered Luin's King looked both regal and battle-ready, Skirf stood back and then followed (one step behind and to the right) as Kili strode toward the mustering troops in the great Blue Cavern.
"For this to work," Kili said as they rounded the massive blue crystal column named Nali's Staff, "All eyes must be on us…on me."
Skirfir nodded. And not on our lady Nÿr.
So when they reached the end of the long corridor from the King's Hall, Skirfir saw his friend and King stop, take a deep breath, and adopt a stern and proud posture that was nothing like his usual bearing. Skirfir supposed he looked more like Thorin Oakenshield, though of course he'd never seen his Lord's uncle except in effigy, many years past.
As Kili the King stepped purposefully through the Main Gate into the massive Blue Cavern beyond to a roar of cheers, Skirf followed three steps behind, guarding his King's back, eyes constantly checking the surroundings for any sign of trouble.
The Commander of the King's Battalion approached with great ceremony and bowed as the crowd quieted.
"My lord King," the Commander announced in a strong, clear voice that everyone could hear. "The Battalion awaits."
Kili, still stern and regal in his bearing, head held high, nodded decisively. "We depart!" he announced, raising his right fist as he shouted, "For Annuminas!"
Cheers erupted, the Commander stepped forward to bump fists with the King, and as he turned back to his troops, blue banners were unfurled, and the waiting Battalion snapped to attention.
A great grinding of wheels and hinges began moving a monolith of stone, causing the very floor to vibrate as the Northern Door slowly parted. Outside, a wagon train of soldiers and ponies (carrying a great supply of food and goods for their journey) reacted with a shuffling of hooves and creaking of wheels as they readied themselves to move. From the heights, a great horn boomed a long and deep note that reverberated and echoed off the surrounding peaks. It was a very public announcement that could likely be heard as far away as the town of Duillond: Ered Luin dwarves were on the move.
As a squad of guards formed up around them, the King's jet-black short-horse was brought around, Kili mounted without assistance, and Skirf hoisted himself onto an equally regal bay. Settled, he nudged his horse into position at the King's right side, and a flock of ravens, startled by the horn-call, flew past in a whirl of wings.
"Well," Kili murmured to him. "If all this doesn't draw attention, I'm not sure what else would."
Skirfir locked eyes with him for only a moment of silent agreement, and then he adopted the look of vigilant soldier, his eyes roving from potential threat to potential threat, hoping that all was as safe and well-ordered as it appeared.
Mahal, he thought, as they lifted reins and the horses started forward. I hope this keeps all eyes are on us and no one suspects that the Queen is anywhere but safe in her quarters.
—
Queen Nÿr had in fact already departed the family quarters deep inside the great lodge of Khelether and was on her own beloved pony riding on a well-guarded trail through the peaceful valley toward the family retreat on the far side of Blue Water Lake. Ravens leap-frogged in the trees around her, and her littlest one rode with her, snuggled tight in a beautifully woven blue wrap that secured her tightly to Nÿr's chest to keep her safe. Nÿr's former apprentice (now physician) Embur rode at her side, and her lads rode beside their riding instructor, Sten, and his pony, very much on their best behavior with their instructor beside them. It looked, of course, as though they were simply taking the lads out to the family's private retreat as riding practice.
All of them, of course, looked up and north when they heard the echo of the great horn announcing the King's departure. It excited the ravens into a swirling cloud of aerial display and quorking.
But in Nÿr's mind, she could only see the concern on her husband's face when they'd parted, and her own feelings were a hollow jumble in her gut. She was going against one of the strongest instincts of a dwarf motherhood after all—the one that said she should stay well underground and guard her children.
And her farewell evening with her beloved replayed itself in her mind.
She had returned Sorin to his bedroom for the third time. "Remember," she had told her younger son. "You belong with your brother. Do not," she held a finger up to him after tucking him back in the bed he shared with Kirin, "Leave his side."
When Sorin started to object, she held the finger up higher. "If you cannot do this, you will have to stay here with old Ulf."
She had watched her youngest son's eyes get wide, glance at his brother, then acquiesce.
"Yes, Mama."
She'd waited a full minute to see if there would be another "but…" and gentled her expression when there wasn't one.
She'd kissed both lads goodnight (again) and told them to sleep while they could, reminding them what their father had said—that warriors must learn to sleep when they can, since bedtime would not be on a schedule once they left home.
She'd darkened the oil lamp and left them to sleep (or try to sleep, she acknowledged.)
Afterwards, the comfort of her husband's embrace had been both a solace and a bittersweet moment—she would not see him again until they were both in Annuminas, because of course the King and his heirs should not travel together.
"If anyone else was your escort, I would never trust them." Kili had said, arms tight around her.
She nodded her agreement, breathing in his scent—that mix of leather and steel that was all Kili…yet she still wanted to acknowledge that echo of her nightmare, of young dwarves in danger, but she stopped herself. She was no longer an untried healer trainee. She was a physician and a Queen. She usually had more confidence these days and she struggled to find it.
He noticed, of course, that she was having a moment of doubt. His hand cupped her jaw, so gently for such a battle-tested warrior, and then his lips found hers and she could think of nothing except letting herself get lost in his strength and making sure he was equally lost in her love.
Their morning farewell had been less passionate but just as heartfelt, ending up with foreheads pressed together as Embur herded their lads outside to a group of four ponies.
"Be safe, Kili," she said, hoping her voice was steady.
"And you," he murmured. "And the little ones…Mukhuh Mahal bakhuz murukhzu."
She'd been unable to answer with anything other than a barely whispered, "Oh…my love…"
"Remember," he said. "We are strong, and we endure, you and I."
Yes. She agreed with that.
But Mahal, but she missed him already.
"Mama!" It was Kirin's voice.
Nÿr blinked, her attention immediately going to her sons.
"The Pine Cone tree!"
She smiled. They'd spotted the twisted old pine that Kirin always remembered. It stood as a landmark that meant they were nearly at the retreat.
She sat up straight, reins in one hand with the other one lightly guarding her sleeping daughter's hooded head.
She knew what surprise awaited her lads, and she intended to enjoy it and report every detail to their father.
And in the shadows near the Pine Cone tree, the lads alerted to a movement and halted their ponies…and then the slender form of a green-clad elf stepped out, hand on heart.
"Mae govannen, my Lady…"
Nÿr rode forward, noting the astonished, wide eyes of her sons, who'd never actually seen an elf before.
She stopped her pony a few paces away from the elf and inclined her head to the fellow, hand on heart.
"Welcome, Yanu, my old friend."
.
.
Ushmar = A foster-father of a special kind: a warrior who undertakes raising the underage son of another warrior who has fallen in battle. Kili undertook being young Skirf's Ushmar, having found him alone and guarding his dead father after the battle for Erebor's gate during the War of the Ring.
Mukhuh Mahal bakhuz murukhzu. = may Mahal's hammer shield you.
Mae govannen - well met (greeting)
THANK you for reading! As always, I invite you to leave a review or even just a note to say Hi! Yes, this story is still alive and being worked on...I appreciate all of you, long-time and new readers alike! In other news, since I last posted, I attended MagicCon7 in Bonn, Germany...and ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* Got to see RICHARD ARMITAGE! Such a kind and generous man-and he SANG THE MISTY MOUNTAINS SONG for all of us! I'm sure this can be googled and a recording is out there. Just fabulous. And now his autograph has been added to those of all the dwarves who have signed my small hardback edition of The Hobbit. :D. Was thrilled to spend time with travel buddy Jessie152, con friend Mariefullstop (on insta) and for the first time met with the really amazing PhoenixAsphodel...Phoenix: M. Leufroy Frogbank is happy in his new home and I look forward to next year! ConBuddies4Ever! Thanks, everyone, for reading along.
