CHAPTER 7

Dawn had barely broken when the four hobbits were mounted and on their way to the Bridge. If they kept a brisk pace, they would probably be there before elevenses, maybe even by second breakfast.

They did not talk much; they had not camped since their return, and so were feeling the effects of sleeping on the ground once more. Also, each of them was absorbed in his own thoughts.

Merry missed his Stybba. This little cart pony was a nice enough fellow, but he couldn’t hold a candle to Merry’s mount from Rohan. He could not help but feel a sense of anticipation over the two ponies that would await him, and he felt a little guilty about that, considering he had said he did not want them.

Pippin was curious. He had the feeling Merry was right, and that Aragorn had indeed sent him some sort of lavish stipend; he could not help but wonder what it might be. He also speculated over who Aragorn would have chosen to go on such a mission. Would any of his friends have come?

Frodo was thinking about Aragorn’s reply to the letter that he, Paladin and Saradoc had sent, in answer to the King’s own proclamation. Knowing him as he did, he was sure that it would be in the affirmative. But there might be reasons of state that could interfere. Still, he trusted Aragorn and Faramir to do right by the Shire. He just hoped that Paladin and Saradoc would agree. He also wondered who would be in the delegation, and if he would know any of them.

Only Sam was not thinking about who or what was awaiting them at the Bridge. His thoughts were some thirteen leagues behind and a little over a month ahead--Sam was thinking about Rosie and his upcoming wedding. They thought to have it in the Party Field, where he had planted the little mallorn tree. Most of the plans had been made, but Sam had an important decision to make--did he want Mr. Frodo to stand with him, or did he want Mr. Frodo to conduct the ceremony? He knew that whatever he asked, his master would do. But that meant that he could only do one or the other. And that meant someone else would have the other job. It was a dilemma he was going to have to solve soon. The first of Thrimidge would be coming before he knew it. And Rosie was eager to know the answer. Rosie, his Rosie. He gave a sigh, and wished they had not had to make this little trip right now. He’d only just got back; he missed her again.

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Saradoc had arisen before it was light, and had gone on his way almost immediately, taking only a small bite and sip for first breakfast. He was sure that the lads would be hurrying along, and he wanted to make sure that he arrived either before them, or at the same time. He wanted to witness for himself their reunion with their friends.

Fortunately, he did arrive first. He went to the gatehouse where he found the Banks brothers on duty again. But there was a small crowd of local hobbits also gathered, attracted by the gossip and the prospect of a spectacle. He decided not to disperse them. There was no need to keep any of this secret, and the more who saw the conduct of these Men the better. It might help to take away the sour taste left by the Occupation last year if it were seen that not all Men were alike.

After a few moments, Targon and Éothain arrived, accompanied this time by the rest of the delegation and by Legolas and Gimli. The presence of the Elf, the Dwarf and the child caused even more gossip to buzz, and Saradoc found himself amused. He had been surprised and pleased to meet the two odd companions who had been such stalwart friends to his kin on their journey. He remembered the story Merry had told him, of how these two had helped them to find the gifts he and Pippin had brought home to the families. He watched the fond banter and mock quarreling of Elf and Dwarf that reminded him of nothing so much as the way his son and his nephew got on together. And that surprised him too, for all the tales he knew said that Elves and Dwarves did not get on at all.

Just then, the crowd began to part for the arrival of four riders. The first shout he heard was Pippin’s followed closely by his son’s.

“Legolas! Gimli! Bergil?”

Somehow both Merry and Pippin managed to hit the ground running, followed only slightly slower by Frodo and Sam. Pippin hit first, propelling himself into Gimli’s arms, while simultaneously pulling on Legolas. But it was only an instant before it was a six way hug. Targon and Éothain stood by looking amused and chagrinned. They had perhaps had some dignified speech they were supposed to present, but the moment was definitely lost. Pippin pulled away from Gimli and Legolas to grab young Bergil by both hands, all the while laughing and asking non-stop questions which he gave the lad no time to answer.

Saradoc gave a cough, to see if he could get someone’s attention. Merry broke away. “Oh, Da! Have you met everybody?”

“Yes, son, I certainly have. But don’t you think it might be polite to let your guests get a word in edgewise?”

Merry blushed, and grabbed Pippin’s arm. “Sir Peregrin” he hissed as a reminder. About that time, Frodo and Sam also realized that they needed to present a more dignified bearing in the presence of an official delegation. Legolas and Gimli stepped back, still wearing amused and fond expressions.

The four hobbits stood before the Men, lined up in front of them, and Targon and Éothain stepped forward. They greeted Merry and Pippin as Sir Meriadoc and Sir Peregrin, with a slight bow of the head, and the warrior‘s salute of a fist to the heart. Then they turned to Frodo and Sam. “Ringbearers,” said Targon respectfully, as the entire group of Men went to their knees. Frodo and Sam blushed, and felt quite out of countenance. It had been bad enough being bowed to in Gondor, but here, home in the Shire and in front of a crowd of other hobbits it was mortifying.

“Please,” said Frodo, “do not kneel to us. It is not a custom here in the Shire.” That was an understatement. He could hear the buzz of gossip already. He was beginning to feel rather annoyed with Aragorn. He could have warned these Men a little better about hobbit customs. Frodo had no way of knowing that the soldiers had received their final instructions from the Steward, whose last words had been to “show all honor to the Ringbearers.”

But Merry and Pippin were grinning, and Saradoc was pleased. Perhaps this might go to show some of these narrow minded hobbits the respect that was due to Frodo and Sam.

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