hi y'all!
so sorry it's been a while! I took a short hiatus but I'm back!
I hope you enjoy this chapter! Let me know what you think!
Thanks so much to Kehlan for reviewing! It means a lot to me!
thank you my friends!
peace out!
Aragorn stood in a washroom of the underground palace, staring at a large basin of steaming bathwater.
This was something he had not seen for months. He was not certain when he had last bathed, only that it had been…longer ago than he would have liked. Contrary to popular belief, Aragorn prioritized keeping clean, but he almost never had the resources to do so.
He let his cloak fall to the floor, then peeled off his tunic, trousers, and undergarments. Oh, Valar. His raiment was stained with more dirt and blood than he had thought, so much that it was all fit to be burned.
At least the queen had provided new clothing for her guests. Her servants had brought the largest sizes available for Aragorn and Legolas, and Aragorn had been surprised that Gimli did not need the same size; it seemed that hobbits in Long Cleeve were taller than the ones in the Shire. Pippin and Merry's raiment had been easy to find, though they were shorter in stature than many of the hobbits.
Aragorn stepped carefully into the basin; the water was nearly scalding and so he sat on the edge, waiting until it cooled enough to get in. When the temperature was bearable Aragorn slid into the water, taking the cloth from the side of the basin to scrub the dirt from his body.
His skin was nearly white beneath the layer of grime; Aragorn had almost forgotten what his natural coloring looked like. He lathered soap onto the cloth, paying special attention to the gash on his side and the smaller cuts on his cheek and forehead. Thankfully, the wounds were still clean, and the washing would provide an additional barrier against infection.
By the time Aragorn climbed out of the basin and wrapped himself in a towel, the bathwater was an unpleasant brown. Most of the filth had come from his hair, which disgusted him; surely his unwashed appearance was not how a king allowed himself to look. Who would follow a filthy vagrant of a man clothed in even filthier rags? Aragorn knew that it should not matter to him—the only important quality for a king was the ability to govern his people wisely—but he feared that the more snobbish upper class of Gondor might not take kindly to his weather-beaten, patchy appearance.
Once dry, Aragorn took from a cabinet in the washroom some bandages and bound them about the wound on his side. He then put on the hobbit-wear, pleased to discover that it fit well, and draped his cloak over his shoulders.
His hand brushed against the Evenstar, and he lifted it in his fingers, admiring the silver-bound crystal of the pendant. Aragorn brought it gently to his lips, wondering if Arwen thought of him now, wherever she may be. He slipped the pendant under his shirt and fastened his brooch, then looked at himself in the mirror. Seeing the state of his damp hair Aragorn took a comb from the table beneath the mirror and ran it through his wet dark locks, surprised at how presentable he looked once he finished. It was almost a foreign concept to him, it had been so long.
Aragorn stepped out of the washroom into the earthen corridor, finding a servant waiting for him. "The queen requests your presence, aran."
King.
This young hobbit boy, younger even than Pippin, had, in his own monarch's palace, looked up at Aragorn and called him king.
Smiling down at the boy, Aragorn placed a fist over his heart. The hobbits of Long Cleeve seemed to have taken this gesture from the elves—or was it the other way around? How much culture did the two races share?
The servant boy smiled back and returned the gesture, then turned and led Aragorn down the hall. They turned into a great hall, in the center of which was a long table. Honor sat at the head, with Valor her consort on one side of her and Diamond on the other. Seated beside them were the young hobbits that had been guarding the gates earlier; with their helms removed Aragorn saw that they both looked very much like Diamond.
Aragorn was the last to arrive; Legolas and Gimli sat on one side of the table, with Merry and Pippin on the other. The only unoccupied seat was at the foot of the table, and Aragorn took it, hoping his weight would not break the wooden chair. He was a slight man, but still a man, and the furniture had not been designed with him in mind. Thankfully, the chair held, although Aragorn supposed he should have guessed it would; Gimli and Legolas had not broken theirs yet.
"Strider," said Honor, lifting her chalice and nodding toward Aragorn. "It is a great honor to be graced with your presence. Now we may begin the feast, and I shall tell you of our land and my people."
"The honor is mine, my queen," Aragorn replied as servants entered the room, bearing silver platters of food. "I look forward to your words."
"Who are all of you?" Pippin asked brightly, taking a roll from a platter as it was set down. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced, and I must know your names and how you are related, for I am most certain that you all hail from the same house."
The queen smiled faintly. "You are indeed quite forward, but I shall grant your desire, little one. This—" she gestured to the hobbit beside her— "is my husband and my consort, Valor. I have already introduced you to him, but I have not told you much; he is one of the few hobbits in the land who do not do battle. Valor is a healer and a philosopher, a reader of the stars and the wind. He sees things many of us do not and is able to provide me with valuable information about the strategy of our enemies. Our union is called Soulchaser, for our combined alkaressa."
Valor smiled, laying a hand over his wife's, and Aragorn was struck by how different they looked. Honor was smaller but more muscular, and her skin was the color of tea, her hair black as night. Valor was slender and tall for a hobbit, nearly Gimli's height, and his skin was pale as a dove's wing. His eyes were wide and dark periwinkle, and he was dressed in a simple gray tunic, while Honor still wore her armor. Though they seemed quite the opposite of each other Aragorn knew they were deeply in love.
Honor lifted a hand in the direction of Diamond's sister. "My daughter, Ruby Windhunter. She is younger than Diamond by perhaps a minute but all the more wise, and much like me in her skill in battle."
Ruby's smile was indeed very much like her mother's, tight-lipped and guarded. She was similar in height and build to Diamond, but her eyes were those of Valor and her skin was a shade darker than her sister's, though not quite as dark as Honor's.
Next Honor indicated Diamond's younger brother, who Aragorn thought seemed similar to Pippin with his broad smile and twinkling gaze. "Finally, my son, Majesty Duskpainter. He was born scarcely a moment after Ruby and has retained that haste all his life. Majesty is a master with a bow and arrow and a lover of song and dance."
"You may call me Maj," said the young hobbit. "My given name is far too long and regal, and it does not seem at all fitting for the youngest of the Dellshore line."
He too had his father's eyes, but his skin was the same shade of light brown as Diamond's and his hair dark like hers, and his build was very like Valor's also. Majesty still wore his armor from guard duty, as did Ruby. Diamond had changed into a similar livery, and all three siblings bore the same eight-pointed star upon their chests. Aragorn felt that they shared a deep bond, evidenced in the way they looked at each other.
"It is my pleasure to meet you," said Aragorn, taking a sip from the chalice that had been placed in front of him. The liquid was clear and cold like water, yet carried a sweetness like that of athelas nectar. "Do you all fight in the army of Long Cleeve?"
"We do," said Ruby. "Mother is the tauntari, the High Queen, and she leads us into battle when we have need for it. Dia and Maj and I each lead a battalion, and we are called the kanor, the commanders. Even Father helps in his own way; he is the fallan, the healer, and many lives have been preserved by his hand."
"You speak the Sindarin tongue," Aragorn observed. "As do I, or I would not ask, but how is it that you have come by the language? It is not well known in Middle-earth, and I was not aware that elves ever had dealings with hobbits."
"Long ago," said Honor, "Elves from the Forest Under Nightshade came to this land, searching for precious metals and medicines. There they met hobbits from the land of Eriador, and many elves felt great love for their small companions. Thus was the race of edhelai born."
She brushed a curl of dark hair from the side of her head, and Aragorn realized with a start that her ears were pointed, much more like that of Legolas than those of Pippin and Merry. "Then you are not truly hobbits?"
"I would not say that," said Valor softly, and Aragorn saw that his ears were pointed also. "We are certainly more hobbit than elf and so consider ourselves such. After all it has been long since there were elves in these parts, fifteen generations at least. But many of us, especially the nobility, bear a resemblance to the Sindar elves, and they gave to us many of our customs and mannerisms."
"Is the carrying of more than one halfbit one of these?" Pippin asked. "I know you think me forward, Queen Honor, but I must inquire about this, for I find it incredible that you bore three halfbits in one birth. Is this a common occurrence in Long Cleeve? It is not in the Shire; I have known but one pair of twins in all my life and have not even heard of carrying three halfbits."
"In fact, little one, you are correct," said Honor. "Two are called twinlings, much like your name for them, but three we call neldlings. Four may a hobbit-maid bear at once, though it is uncommon. It is more common, though, than a single halfbit; that happens perhaps every twenty years."
"How strange!" Pippin marveled. "But I suppose the Shire must be strange to you, just as Long Cleeve is to me. You see, we are lovers of peace and quiet, though we would not turn down a large party, and our hobbit-maids bear but one halfbit. We have never seen battle, not since I can remember anyway, and almost never do we venture out of the Shire. Merry and I are two of the very few who have."
Aragorn noticed for the first time the meal laid out in front of him; he had been so caught up in learning the ways of the hobbits of Long Cleeve that he had utterly forgotten his hunger. Now, though, it returned with a vengeance, and he reached out for a bowl of what appeared to be golden berries, ripe and shining under the torchlight in the dining hall.
"What are these fruits?" he asked, holding one of the berries up. Pippin shrugged, and Aragorn saw that the hobbit's fingers were stained with golden juice, undoubtedly from the berries.
"They are called malyavë, Strider," said Valor. "They are considered a delicacy here. If I were you I would crush them and spread them on bread, for they are most excellent when eaten that way."
Intrigued, Aragorn tried this, finding the concoction very much palatable with the warm bread and chilled fruit. Pippin promptly seized the bowl of malyavë, taking a great deal of berries and heaping them onto a loaf of bread.
"Ada?" asked a young voice. "Has Dia come back?"
Aragorn looked to the door; two small faces peered out from behind the frame. They were nearly identical to each other, with tousled dark hair, wide hazel eyes, and pale skin.
Valor looked up, his face breaking out into a smile. "Hullo, little ones! Yes, Dia has returned; you may come see for yourselves."
Two little hobbit boys positively stampeded into the dining hall. They too looked much like Valor; their eyes had the same somewhat astonished look and their noses the same slope, and both were dressed in fine tunics bearing the eight-pointed star of Long Cleeve. Joyfully they bounded to Diamond, and one of them clambered up onto her lap while the other climbed the back of her chair.
"Our foster sons," said Valor, smiling at no one in particular. "Luin—" he indicated the boy on the chair— "and Malin." The boy in Diamond's lap beamed, showing one missing tooth.
"Fifteen years old and more trouble than my neldlings were," Valor said fondly. "They are the sons of my twinling Virtue and his wife Tourmaline, who have fallen in battle. Honor and I have raised Luin and Malin as princes since they were but seven. We would have brought them to the feast, but they were asleep, as they are wont to be."
For a moment Aragorn wondered how the boys could be fifteen, but he remembered that hobbits aged differently than humans, and so the foster princes must have been around eight years old in the reckoning of men, and not even four when their parents had passed. He smiled at the boys, hoping he would not appear intimidating. "It is a pleasure to meet you, young Highnesses. I am Strider, and this is my dear friend Pippin." Aragorn indicated the young hobbit, who had looked over with a wide grin on his face.
"You are very tall," said Luin, his arms wrapped around Diamond's neck. "What are you?"
"Luin!" Ruby scolded. "You know you aren't to ask that, it's impolite."
"He has done me no harm," said Aragorn. "I am a Man, Luin, and I regret that I am nowhere near as fascinating as you most magnificent hobbits."
"Mama doesn't like Men," said Malin, but his eyes were twinkling. "She says they will take over the city. I don't think I'd like that, but I do wish more interesting things would happen; sometimes it's rather boring here."
He spoke with more of a lisp than his brother, a characteristic which Aragorn found endearing. Both twinlings regarded him with wide eyes, and then Luin asked, "Why did you come with Dia?"
"We helped her escape Orthanc," said Pippin cheerfully. "Would you like to hear the story?"
"You shall certainly hear more than truly happened," Diamond warned, but she was smiling. "Even so, you may begin, Shire-child, but be warned, for Luin is quite inquisitive and Malin is prone to outbursts of laughter and tears."
"I like a challenge," Pippin laughed. "It began in a tall dark tower, one ruled by an evil wizard, and with three brave hunters…"
As Pippin told the story and the food was slowly finished, Aragorn felt a rare sense of peace wash over him; this was the safest the company had been for months, with a roof over their heads and a feast before them, and they were surrounded by kind hobbits who had no desire to harm them. For a little while, he could almost forget about the Ring—well, the Rings—and the war, and the loss of Boromir and the fury of Gandalf.
Tonight, Aragorn thought, all is right in the world.
When the story was finished, both twinlings had fallen asleep, with Malin still on Diamond's lap and Luin curled upon the floor. Aragorn watched as Pippin bent and took the hobbit boy into his arms, asking, "Where is his bedroom? If you will permit it, Queen Honor, I shall take him there."
"Follow Diamond," Honor instructed. "She shall lead you and bear Malin with her. The rest of you may proceed to your rooms, save for Strider, with whom I wish to speak. Goodnight to you all, and may the eye of Ilúvatar gaze upon you as you sleep."
Aragorn waited as the rest of the company filed out: Pippin, bearing Luin in his arms, then Diamond with Malin, and Ruby and Majesty following. Legolas and Gimli went last of all; Aragorn watched the elf put a hand on Gimli's shoulder.
"The doors," said Honor, and when the others had all left servants came to shut the doors to the dining hall. The queen beckoned Aragorn toward her, and he rose, taking the seat opposite Valor. The consort smiled, his gaze comforting, but Honor's eyes were dark as she pulled from under her armor the finely wrought golden chain, on the end of which hung Reena-domë.
Aragorn looked on the Ring of Melkor, on its burnished sheen in the torchlight, and suddenly he was seized with a deep, horrible longing. He wished to take the Ring, wished only to hold it, to touch it…surely it would banish all his doubt, all his fear…
He wondered if this was how Pippin felt when he touched the stone, how Boromir had felt when the One Ring had tempted him. Was Aragorn so desperate, so like Isildur, that he would take a Ring of Power to save himself?
No, he thought. I do not wish it for myself. I wish it for my people, for their safety and their right to live under a fair and noble king.
And yet, said a voice in the back of his mind, though you wish it for a wise purpose, still, at the end of all things, you wish it…
"You feel its power," came Honor's voice, and Aragorn was drawn out of the black void.
"I—I am sorry, my queen," said Aragorn, bowing his head. "The Ring is indeed powerful, and I am foolish."
"Many feel its pull," said Valor, and his voice was soft. "You need not be ashamed, Strider. Few find themselves free of the influence of the Ring."
"Valor is among the few." Honor's face was lit from below by the glow of Reena-domë, with shadows cast on her cheekbones. "We know not how he is free, but I believe that purity of heart and strength of soul are crucial to resisting the influence of the Ring of Melkor. I have neither of these, and so I am burdened. My soul is weak; it has been cleaved in two."
"How do you mean, my queen?" Aragorn asked, but Honor was silent, and he added, "Forgive me if mine is an undue query."
"I offered my soul to the Ring," said Honor, and something bestial seemed to gleam in her eyes. "Diamond had fallen in battle, struck down upon the Pelennor. It was years ago now, just after she had received her alkaressa. Valor could do nothing, not with any power of the stars. I did not see light in the heavens, and so I turned to the earth, to the land where the shadows lie, and I gave a piece of my soul to Reena-domë. The Ring accepted my offering, and Diamond breathed again."
Honor lifted her chin, tracing her finger along her throat, and Aragorn saw that a raised, pale scar ran nearly all the way across her neck, a wound which surely should have cleaved her throat in two.
"I took upon myself her scar," Honor breathed. "But it came at a terrible price: the Ring claimed half my soul, and many times has it driven me to rage and destruction."
"Mela," said Valor, laying a hand upon his wife's, and his voice shook. "I thought we were not to speak of it."
"Strider must understand the danger." The queen's tone was firm as she looked to her consort. "He must know what I have done, if only to protect our daughter from my mistakes."
Honor turned to face Aragorn. "Immediately after we returned from battle, when Diamond still lay at the edge of night, the Ring took hold of my mind. Valor tried to stop me, but it could not be done, and I walked a bloodstained path that night…I slew Virtue Deeproot and his wife, and they died defending their sons whom we now raise. It was Ruby and Majesty who saved the boys from my wrath, though they nearly perished in the attempt. But it was not the end of our losses that night. Royal my twinling stood between me and the palace door, wanting to protect my subjects from me, and I slit his throat just as the men of Edoras had slit Diamond's."
Her voice was husky with emotion as her gaze dropped. "It was as though I had ripped out the other half of my soul. For that is how it feels to be a twinling…so few of us fall in love, for we already feel as though we are complete and need no one else. It is easier with neldlings; they find it less painful to separate themselves, but twinlings…they have a bond deeper than anything I have ever seen."
Honor looked upon Aragorn with pained eyes. "I destroyed two families and myself that night, Strider. This is why you must know. I call upon you to protect Diamond from the Ring, to guide her in the way of strength and resistance, for you are the king, Strider, and the one to lead this great quest."
"My queen," Aragorn protested, "I know not what quest of which you speak. I would repay the debt we owe to you in any way possible, but where do you wish me to go? What quest must I undertake?"
"Valor has read the stars," said Honor. "He has looked into the water, studied the reflections and the moving of the heavens. Eru Ilúvatar has spoken, Strider, and he has said that the time has come to destroy the Ring of Melkor. For centuries, millennia even, we have kept it in the house of Dellshore to guard the civilians of Long Cleeve against it. Many queens has it driven to violence, but the appointed hour had not yet come…Now it has."
"Ilúvatar has chosen you, Strider," Valor said, and his dusk-toned eyes seemed to shimmer with the light of a thousand stars. "I have spoken to him by night, and he has declared that Reena-domë shall pass to Diamond. She shall be the one to bear the Ring, but you shall be the one to guide her to the Secret Fire."
"The Secret Fire?" Aragorn asked, stunned. "No being knows of its resting place save Ilúvatar himself! How am I to find the way? How can you know for sure that it is I who should do this thing?"
Valor spoke softly, but his words entered into Aragorn's heart as if a spear had been thrust therein.
"Amid the night rose a city white,
And a soul Death failed to reap,
The heir beloved, one who frees
The dawn from endless sleep.
A flame came forth from a house of queens,
Glass sang of shadow's fall,
The sky and soul did greet the king
With the Ring to end them all."
"The words were given him by Ilúvatar," Honor explained. "We call it the Song of the Fall of Melkor."
"Do you know the meaning of it?" asked Aragorn. "Surely the flame that it speaks of is Diamond, and I suppose I must be the king, but I know not of the remainder of the words."
"We believe that The soul death failed to reap also refers to Diamond," said Valor. "Much of the prophecy seems to, and the city white tells us that the Ring-bearer must journey to Minas Tirith, the White City. The only line we do not yet understand is the one that speaks of singing glass; never have we heard of such a thing."
"I shall take the quest which you have given," said Aragorn, and he sank from his chair to the ground, kneeling before the queen as he placed a fisted hand upon his heart. "When shall I depart?"
"Not yet," Honor commanded. "The hour is not yet come; we still must bestow the Ring upon Diamond, and your company has traveled far. You may return to your chambers, Strider, and I shall call for you again in the morning."
"Thank you, my queen," Aragorn said, and he took her hand and bowed his head to kiss it. "And, of course, my consort. Both of you are most remarkable hobbits, and I look forward to our time tomorrow."
"The bestowing ceremony shall be held when the sun reaches its zenith," said Valor. "We shall meet in the throne room, and you may bring your company, for there seems to be no purpose in keeping the Ring from them. Go now, Strider, and may Ilúvatar watch over you in your sleep."
"May he do likewise to you."
Aragorn turned and left the dining hall, retreating to the sleeping quarters that had been shown to him earlier. In the room were nightclothes laid over a chair; he closed the door and put these on, then got into the bed in the corner, pulling the blankets up to his chin. It was all quite comfortable, he thought; the hobbits of Long Cleeve were certainly hospitable, if warfaring and steeped in bloody history.
Tomorrow the company would have the Ring. Tomorrow a new, grander quest would begin.
Tomorrow, the fate of Middle-earth would be forever changed.
PEREGRIN
"Come with us, Pip!" said Malin, and the young hobbit slid his small hand into Pippin's, smiling cheerfully. "We can go and play in the creek; it is cold but not so bad by the elenorn."
"What is the elenorn?" Pippin asked, letting Malin pull him along.
Diamond, who walked beside them with Luin, said, "It is the Sindarin name for the Tree of Stars, which stands in the center of Long Cleeve and brings light and warmth to our land."
Today she was dressed in finery for the bestowing: a white blouse with a dark corseted vest over it and a skirt which perfectly matched the color of her eyes. Diamond's circlet was set upon her wild, half-curled hair, and a knife was sheathed at her side. Pippin thought she looked like one of the Valar come to earth.
Luin and Malin too looked striking; both twinlings wore circlets much like Diamond's, but without any jewels set into them, so that they were plain silver bands like that which Valor wore. Luin's tunic was deep blue, while Malin's was a tawny gold, and both were richly embroidered with the star of Long Cleeve. Pippin felt as though he should have put on something more refined than his simple white shirt and brown trousers, but the thought was ridiculous; he had no other sets of clothing save for that which he had worn throughout the quest, and that was not fit to be worn anywhere, much less to a bestowing ceremony.
Pippin looked around as they walked down the cobblestoned street, taking in the sunlit streets and the hobbit holes dug into the hills. Though he knew this land's people were far removed from his own he thought it looked much like the Shire, and his heart sorrowed for his homeland. When might Pippin sit beside the fireplace once more, sipping tea while his mother wove yarn into soft sweaters and his father told stories, and listen to the beating of the rain upon the windows?
His sorrow fled suddenly when they crested a hill and he saw at the base a shining, luminous tree, one with white branches and adorned with blossoms pale as snow. Beneath it ran a bubbling creek, with crystalline water leaping over smooth stones, and it was to this that Luin and Malin ran, laughing as they splashed into the water. Pippin looked toward Diamond, silently asking if they might join the twinlings.
"Finery has never stopped me from frolicking," she said. "If it is the same for you, then by all means let us go down into the water."
"I shall beat you there," said Pippin, and he broke into a run, running toward the place where the creek bent around a large stone. Diamond followed swiftly, and soon she outpaced him. She stepped into the creek, and as Pippin followed her, she dipped her hands into the water, throwing up an arc of sparkling drops. Pippin yelped in surprise as the droplets landed upon his cheeks and was pleasantly surprised to find that they were not cold, as he would have expected, only cool and rejuvenating.
"Beaten by a maiden hobbit!" Diamond laughed, and she flicked another splash towards him. "Or do they not teach you to exercise in the Shire?"
"They do not," said Pippin, "but I always have. Still I am quite impressed by your swiftness."
He smiled at her and bent down toward the water, cupping some in his hands and splashing it over his face. Then he raised some to his lips and drank, and Pippin found that it was the water that had been served to the company at the feast; it was sweet and somehow colder when he drank it.
"The tree gives life to the water," said Diamond, and she cast her gaze to the low-hanging branches, under which the twinlings played. "It is much like the tree in the White City, though that has long since passed. In all seasons, its flowers bloom, but only in winter does the Tree of Stars bear fruit. It is nearing spring, so the globes have withered, but still the elenorn is beautiful."
"Dia!" shouted Luin, who had climbed upon a stone and was trying to prevent Malin from doing the same. "Might we climb the tree, Dia?"
"You know the rule, Luin," Diamond called back. "It is not the doing of a prince to climb upon the elenorn. Atar would be most displeased."
"Ada shan't care," Malin said dismissively. "Or at least he will not be angry. Mama is the one who will shout at us."
"Then I suppose we ought to make sure she never hears of it," said Diamond. "Up you go, then, little ones, and don't you fall, or I shall never hear the end of it!"
Malin scrambled up behind his brother, nearly knocking Luin off the stone. Pippin laughed as the twinlings pulled themselves up into the branches, climbing as high as they could until they reached a limb that seemed impossibly thin. Both hobbit boys situated themselves upon it, looking down with identical grins.
"Come, Dia!" Luin called down. "You and Pip must climb also; we can see all of Long Cleeve from here!"
"Oh, why not," Diamond said, and she too pulled herself into the sweeping snowy branches. Pippin followed, knowing he could not climb as high as the twinlings had but hoping to go as far as he could; he had always loved grand views and wished to see this one.
When Pippin had climbed to the highest branch that could hold his weight he stopped, settling himself upon it. He had gotten higher than he had thought he would; the twinlings' small, silken-haired feet nearly brushed the top of his head. Diamond sat next to him, her fingers drumming upon the ivory wood, and at the thrust of her chin Pippin looked out across the landscape, his breath catching in his throat at the wondrous sight which greeted him.
The western side of Long Cleeve lay spread out below them, shining in the golden light and full of hobbits bustling about, most carrying spears and shields. Children played in the creek downstream, flicking water at each other with squeals of delight. Pippin thought of the joy of being a child in the Shire, waiting for Gandalf to arrive with his fireworks, Sam teaching Pippin to plant bulbs and Frodo showing him how to read, and Merry running with him through the long grass…
Far beyond the city were mountains shrouded in morning mist, and out in the marshes the creek joined what Pippin thought must be the Anduin, or at least a tributary of it. The sky was gloriously blue and the day was warm, especially for the month of Rethe.
"It is lovely, is it not?" Diamond murmured. "Now you see what I fight for, Shire-child; what all of us hope to preserve in this War of the Ring."
"It is a beautiful land," Pippin said softly, and he looked to Diamond, watching the way the wind swept through her dark hair, the sheen of the light upon her circlet. "And with such a valiant lass to defend it."
"You flatter me," she said, though she smiled. "I hope that the Ring shall aid us in our quest for safety, though of course I know that, in the end, we must destroy it. Are you to come with Strider and I, Shire-child?"
"If I am not then they shall have to throw me in a sack and send me home," said Pippin. "I don't mean to leave you, Dia, even if you believe you need not my help, which, in all fairness, you may not—but as I have said, I should not like to be parted from you, nor from Strider."
"Pip seems to like you quite a lot, Dia," said Malin, swinging his legs as he sat upon the branch. Pippin startled; he had forgotten the twinlings were listening. He looked up at them; Malin wore a cheerful grin and a scion of blossoms tucked behind his ear, while Luin had snowy petals in his hair and a gaze sparkling with mischief.
"Before you can marry our sister you must have an alkaressa," Luin told Pippin. "Perhaps you shall get one on your quest."
"We have not yet talked of marriage, Luin," Diamond said primly, laughter flashing in her gaze. "If we ever do it shall not be anytime soon, and I need no husband to bear the Ring and save my people."
"Perhaps, lads," said Pippin, "I shall try and win her heart. Though I fear I shall need nothing less than the powers of Ilúvatar to do so."
"Your fear is not unfounded, Shire-child," laughed Diamond. "My heart is a wild thing and has not yet been tamed, and I do not intend for it to happen. You may try, though I doubt you shall succeed."
She slid from the branch, and Pippin watched her go, circlet glinting, skirt billowing in the midmorning breeze. He sighed as Diamond crested the hill and was out of sight. "I don't believe she likes me much, lads."
"That went fairly well," Malin reassured him. "Dia has turned down many hobbits and even the occasional hobbit-maid, none so kindly as you. Though I'd be more hopeful if she'd use your name."
A horn rang through the city, and Luin gasped. "Oh, Valar, it's nearly time for the bestowing! Come, Mal, Pip, we mustn't be late! What'll Mama say?"
"We've still got an hour!" Malin complained, but he followed Luin down through the branches, with Pippin close behind. When they reached the ground both twinlings took hold of one of Pippin's hands, and together they dashed through the streets, heading for the great hill that housed the palace.
So swiftly had they come that Diamond was just getting to the door. Pippin watched her go in, saw her lovely face pass into the recesses of the antechamber, and wondered what he must do to win her favor.
Her heart might have been untamed, but perhaps it did not need to be tamed at all, for Pippin was nothing if not a wild thing.
Shafts of light streamed through the window at the top of the throne room, tracing a circle upon the earthen floor. Pippin watched as Diamond knelt in the center of this, her head bowed. Honor stood before her, just in front of her throne. The queen of Long Cleeve was clothed in a flowing white gown, which draped off her shoulders and pooled around her feet in a cloud of silk. Her circlet, gleaming in the sunlight, was set upon her brow, and her cheeks were painted with silver symbols, one the star of Long Cleeve and the other a tree.
Valor too was dressed in white; he wore a tunic embroidered with ivory thread and a cloak that trailed behind him just as his wife's gown did. His circlet, a simple silver band, nestled in his sandy hair, and his face was marked with the same symbols as Honor's.
Beside the throne, the Evenstar gleaming on the soft gray folds of his tunic, stood Aragorn, his presence comforting like a tree in a windstorm. Pippin saw that he too had been given a circlet, a band like Valor's, and wore his elvin-cloak. Aragorn smiled as Pippin met his gaze, gray eyes nervously excited.
Pippin looked next to the other side of the throne, where all four of Diamond's siblings stood. There were the twinlings, dressed in cobalt and sunflower, Malin seemingly unable to keep still and Luin nudging his brother gently. Ruby wore a deep violet gown, much like her mother's, though it did not trail upon the floor; rather, it fell to her ankles. The bloodred jewel set into her circlet seemed to glow against her bronzed skin, and her face was set in a stoic expression. Majesty, standing beside his sister, wore a dark gray tunic and a cloak that looked to be made of a wolf's pelt. The jewel in his circlet was a shade of dark lavender, and his eyes twinkled as he looked upon his sister.
Pippin marveled at the splendor of the royal clothes; he had never seen such finery, not even in Rivendell in the house of Elrond. Suddenly his shirt and trousers seemed quite inadequate for the occasion, and he could feel Legolas, standing on his left, shifting uncomfortably; clearly the elf was unused to wearing anything less than the finest in such important company. Pippin wished he owned a scarf that looked less like a dishrag.
His thoughts were pulled from the raiment of his companions when a horn rang again through the city, its call deep and warm. When the sound had faded Honor descended the steps of her throne with Valor on her arm, the Ring glinting on its chain around her neck as she stepped into the light. Pippin gripped Merry's arm tightly, knowing his cousin was still shaky, and listened as Honor began to speak.
"Princess Diamond Firebringer Dellshore of Long Cleeve," said the queen, her voice echoing impressively through the hall. "You have come of age to take upon yourself the burden of our people: Reena-domë, the Edge of Night, the Shadow Incarnate, the Ring of Melkor. I, Queen Honor Soulreaper Dellshore, have borne it for thirty-four years, and I now see fit to pass it to you. Do you accept the Ring?"
"I do," Diamond replied, and Honor bowed her head. With a kiss upon her dark curls Valor took from Honor the golden chain, and turning to Diamond he hung it about her neck. She raised her eyes and looked to her father as Valor clasped her hands in his own, his periwinkle gaze filled with pain. He turned away and went back to stand beside his wife, who looked on Diamond with pride.
"You may stand, Ring-bearer," said Honor. "With your acceptance of the Ring comes also the acceptance of the quest, for Ilúvatar has spoken…The time to destroy the Ring of Melkor has come. But fear not, Firebringer, for you shall have companionship upon this the most desolate of quests. Strider shall be your guide; I can think of none more fitting to lead the quest than the future king of Gondor. His company shall journey with you, and you shall search for the Secret Fire. None know of its location, yet I feel certain that you will find it. There is not another hobbit or another man in Middle-earth whom I would trust with this quest. You may wait to depart until all injuries have healed, and then you shall set your course for Minas Tirith."
The queen placed a fisted hand upon her heart. "I wish you the speed of Ilúvatar."
She swept forward and out of the hall; the great doors swung shut behind her and Aragorn made a small noise in his throat as if to call out, then swallowed and said, "I should like to speak with the members of my company, if it be within my authority. Queen Honor has permitted me to hold a discussion here, and all may stay if they wish. Princess, do I have your permission to move forward?"
Diamond inclined her head. "You do, Strider, though I would advise you to be careful of what you say, as there are children present. Malin is in training to be a fallaner and it shall not do to have him prophesying of the end of the world."
At Aragorn's bewildered look Diamond sighed and elaborated. "The fallanae are our healers. Their numbers are few, and though any may volunteer to join them, most only do because they cannot bear to fight, for they see the future. Some are born to be fallanae, such as Atar and Malin. They read all of nature, and I ask you to speak not much of the war. It may provoke Malin's Gazing Eye."
"I'll be alright, Dia," said Malin, sitting cross-legged upon the earth. "Ada isn't worried about it, so I don't see any cause to be so. Say on, Strider! Let's hear about the quest!"
Luin sank down beside his twinling, linking his arm through Malin's and grinning up at Aragorn. Majesty joined his younger brothers, though Ruby did not deign to sit. Knowing Merry must need to sit down also, Pippin guided his cousin to the floor and listened as Aragorn began to speak.
"I am honored to embark upon this quest with such a company," said Aragorn. "I would not have chosen any others to accompany Diamond and I to Minas Tirith. The journey shall be long, a few weeks by foot, but we shall press on and find the Secret Fire. None know of its location, but before we leave I shall consult Valor for Ilúvatar's guidance."
"Let us come, Strider!" Luin burst out. "Malin has the Gazing Eye; he can speak to Ilúvatar for you, and I am going to be an ethir, a spy; I can help with—well, things of that sort! Please, Strider, let us come."
Aragorn stood still for a moment; he looked torn, and Pippin wondered if he thought about the Council of Elrond, where none had wanted to let Pippin come along. Usually he would have told Aragorn to let the young hobbits come along, for he saw much of himself and Merry in them, but Luin and Malin were only fifteen years old. Even Pippin was nearing adulthood; the twinlings were nowhere close to it.
"They shan't be going," said Gimli, voicing Pippin's thoughts. "We have let young ones come along before, and look where that got us—a dark tower in Isengard, facing a mad wizard! Not to mention the whole business with that stone. I have half a mind to leave anyone not of age; they shall be safer in Long Cleeve."
"You mustn't leave me behind!" cried Pippin, springing to his feet; he had not expected anyone to raise the subject. "I've come this far and I'll go as far as I must, but don't leave me, Strider! I cannot sit by while the rest of the Fellowship is endangered!"
"Pippin," said Aragorn, smiling kindly. "You shall not be left behind. You have proven yourself to be a most excellent companion and a steadfast friend, as well as capable with a blade."
He turned to the twinlings. "However, my young friends, I am afraid I cannot allow you to go. I may be wrong, but I assume that you have never before undertaken such a journey, and I do not wish to put ones so young in such grave danger."
At Luin's pouting glare and Malin's wide, plaintive eyes, Aragorn added, "But I shall need you to carry out some tasks while we are away. I have spoken to your mother, and she has said that the forces of Long Cleeve shall come to the aid of Gondor, should we ever need it. I suspect that we will indeed require your aid, and so I must ask you to make ready as many healing supplies as possible, for the wounded we will certainly have when you arrive. We will require bandages, salves, and blankets, as well as ways to carry water. Anything else you may think necessary will be welcomed. Can you do that for me, your Highnesses?"
Both twinlings looked considerably happier; they nodded vigorously, and Malin said, "You may call us by our names, Strider; we don't outrank you now that you have a circlet, and even if we did I would think it silly."
Aragorn smiled. "Very well then, Malin, Luin. Thank you for your service."
He turned to the rest of the company. "We shall set out for Minas Tirith once all wounds in our company have healed—worry not, Merry, Gimli, for you shall not slow our travels. I myself must wait to depart. I will not ask much of you, my friends, but I ask that you be cautious, so that our company is not thrown into unnecessary danger. If it should come to pass, though—" here Aragorn placed his fist upon his heart— "if by my life or by my death I can protect you, I will."
He walked to the great doors, and pushing them open he turned and looked back on the company. "May the grace of Ilúvatar be with us all."