Chapter 21. Not about to Fall Apart

 ‘Are you well, my dear?’ Melilot said. Fredegar had been abstracted for the last few miles.

 ‘Er... eh?’ he said, straightening in his saddle. Melly would have preferred the comfort of a carriage, but her husband stirred so seldom from their smial... She had rejoiced to see the sparkle lighting his eyes again, his keen interest in their surroundings, the way he took in every detail.

Prince Faramir, riding nearby, spoke quietly to Beregond at his side. The Captain nodded, stopped to call to the riders following.

 ‘They’re calling a halt, Freddy,’ Melilot said.

 ‘What, teatime already?’ her husband said. He stretched and sighed. ‘Look at those hills,’ he said, indicating the line of mountains before them. ‘Imagine it, Melly, imagine them crowned with fire as a message races to the North, calling Gondor’s allies to her aid.’

 ‘I certainly hope not!’ Melly said with a shudder.

 ‘Frodo wrote of it,’ Freddy said. ‘I never thought I’d see those peaks... and yet, here we are a second time!’

She hadn’t thought he’d seen them, the first time, so ill had be been as they carried him South in search of healing. The Houses of Healing had been a wonder, and a boon, and Freddy had walked out of their doors on his own feet once more, but...

 ‘You needn’t watch me so close, you know,’ Freddy said. ‘I’m not going to fall apart before your eyes.’ He patted his chest. ‘Still ticking away, my love. Just as dependable as Bilbo’s old pocket-watch.’

They camped that night under the stars, eschewing the inn just a few miles beyond. Hobbits and Men and Elves mingled freely, singing and feasting in the firelight, anticipating the joyous reunion on the morrow. Word had come that the travellers from the North would reach Dindale soon, and Prince Faramir had timed their departure from Ithilien that their arrival might coincide.

One Elf sat a little apart, knees pulled up and arms embracing them. A Dwarf sat at his side, lovingly polishing an axe. ‘So,’ he grunted.

 The Elf looked up. ‘Yes?’ he asked.

 ‘Tomorrow,’ the Dwarf said, and frowned. Was that a pit in the shining surface? He ran sensitive fingertips over, sighed in relief, and applied the soft cloth once more.

Legolas smiled, ‘Yes, Gimli, tomorrow,’ he said. ‘It has not been that long since last we saw them. You only left the Shire yourself a month before they did.’

The Dwarf grunted wordlessly.

 ‘Yes, I know they come belatedly,’ Legolas said, ‘but then, they stopped in Rohan, you know.’

Gimli hmphed.

 ‘At least they sent word to the Mayor of Dindale that they’d been delayed,’ Legolas said. ‘And in truth, it was not a bad thing. I hear that the Mayor was able to procure some rare wine for the King and his guests at the welcoming banquet, with the extra time allowed for preparations.’

Gimli muttered something under his breath, but it was a slightly more cheerful mutter, and Legolas smiled as he looked to the stars. Soon these wove their usual spell and he began to hum under his breath, and then sing. Other Elves of Ithilien blended their voices with his, and all the people, Big and Little, stilled to listen.

There was a long silence as the song ended, and then the conversations began again, quietly, a comment here, a question and answer there, desultory pebbles dropped into a peaceful pool. Budgie Smallfoot, head healer of the little hobbit colony in Ithilien, arrived on one of the resulting ripples of laughter.

 ‘Your nightcap, Freddy,’ he said, offering a small glass.

 ‘Already have it,’ Freddy answered, pointing to that item of attire perched atop his head.

Budgie laughed as Freddy took the glass from him and gulped down the contents.

 ‘There,’ he said, ‘though I’m feeling very much myself again, Budgie. I hardly think I need your potions these days.’

 ‘You probably don’t,’ Budgie replied. ‘For all you know that was merely wine without any magic drops added... but if I were to say so, you’d discharge me and then what would I do?’

 ‘You could find labour as a cupbearer to the King, perhaps,’ Freddy said.

 ‘Wouldn’t do at all,’ Budgie said complacently. ‘I much prefer badgering you.’

Frodovar came up quietly. ‘Everyone’s settled,’ he said. ‘Your places are ready for you.’

 ‘Thank you, my son,’ Freddy said. ‘You’ll make a fine Mayor some day, if the folk of Ithilien ever elect one.’ Frodo smiled briefly and kissed his mother, then was called away to see to some detail or other.

 ‘He’s grown so fast,’ Melilot sighed, and her husband laughed.

 ‘He’s grown,’ he corrected. ‘Wonder if any marriageable lasses are in that crowd of hobbits descending upon the Southlands.’

 ‘Freddy!’ Melilot scolded, though the same thought had crossed her mind.

Next morning they arose early to the clear call of the trumpets. Freddy laughed at his wife as she took extra care in her dressing, but he took extra care, himself. Truly he’d never expected to see his sister Estella again, and he wanted to look his best for her benefit.

 ‘Promise me you won’t tire yourself with all the excitement, Freddy,’ Melly said softly.

 ‘I am well, Melly, really I am!’ Freddy said, laughing, and to prove it he took her arm and whirled with her until he had to stop to catch his breath. ‘You see?’ he panted. ‘We’ll dance the Springle-ring at our son’s wedding; see if we don’t!’

 ‘Aren’t you putting the cart before the pony, rather?’ Frodovar said, entering their small pavilion. ‘The guardsmen are ready to take the canvas down,’ he added, and then, ‘...or were you planning, perhaps, for Merry or Pip’s wedding? It will take some time, I fear, to settle them to the point where any parents of a respectable lass would accept a marriage contract.’

 ‘Merry and Pip,’ Freddy said with a frown. ‘D’y’know, I think we shall have to call them by their names-of-misdeed, as if calling them to account for some mischief. Otherwise we shall be altogether muddled with “this Merry” and “That Pip”.’

 ‘Did someone call me?’ Perevar said, sticking his head in at the flap. ‘The guardsmen are ready to take the canvas down,’ he added.

 ‘Yes, dear heart, nearly ready,’ Melilot said. ‘Do me up, Frodo, there’s a dear.’ She could not quite reach the buttons in the middle of her back, but it didn’t matter, with a large and loving family surrounding her. There were always happy hands ready to help.

Perevar jumped to his father’s side, offering his arm. ‘Your escort, sir!’ he said smartly.

 ‘The Thain himself is not so well served as I,’ Freddy observed, picking up the heavy walking stick.

Frodovar did up the difficult buttons and offered his arm to his mother. Just then, Merivar entered, announcing, ‘The guardsmen are ready to take the canvas down.’

 ‘It’s about time,’ Freddy said.