CHAPTER 25

It was late afternoon when they all rode into Hobbiton, to a crowd of curious and excited hobbits. The plan was for Frodo to put up his family and friends at Bag End. Sam would be going home to the Gaffer for the night. The Men were making an encampment on the Party Field.

As soon as the Men had begun their work, Frodo led his party down to the smial. Legolas and Gimli were fascinated by Bag End.

“So this is the place where it all began,” said Legolas, “for hobbits at least.” To an Elf, it might seem just yesterday, yet for him this was where the great friendships of his life had their beginnings.

Gimli ran his hand over the front door. “And this is the door that Gandalf marked for Thorin and the Dwarves! I heard much from my father about Bilbo’s hospitality.”

Merry and Pippin, coming up behind, heard this comment, and laughed. Suddenly, they began to sing:

 Chip the glasses and crack the plates!
      Blunt the knives and bend the forks!
That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates--
        Smash the bottles and burn the corks!

     Cut the cloth and tread on the fat!
       Pour the milk on the pantry floor!
     Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!
        Splash the wine on every door!

     Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl--*

Frodo laughed and gave a light blow to the back of Pippin’s head. “All right, lads, that’s enough of that right now! Let’s get our guests in and settled.”

Pippin rubbed the back of his head. “Very well, cousin, if we must.”

“Gimli,” said Merry as they entered the front hall, “it has always seemed strange to me that Dwarves would have such a handy song for the occasion. Did they really sing that, or was it one of Bilbo’s inventions?”

“Oh that’s an old Dwarven comic song. Fili and Kili just put Bilbo’s name in at the appropriate places.” Gimli chuckled. Ever since that time, it had been Bilbo’s name in the song, and few now thought about the original Dwarf whose name that had once been in it.

Frodo had to see to allotting rooms to his guests. Bag End was bursting at the seams. He could not remember for the life of him this many people staying over at one time.

He led Legolas to the room that Gandalf had used for so many years. “At least you will have a bed of proper size for a change. But I fear Saruman probably slept in here. I hope that won’t put you off?”

Legolas smiled and shook his head. “Saruman’s presence lays but lightly in this room. He spent little time here, I deem, and it meant little to him; but I can sense that Mithrandir loved it here. His presence here is strong; it even still smells like him.”

Frodo gave a sniff. “You’re right. It’s very faint, pipeweed and fireworks and damp wool, and something else, something very Gandalf. I do smell it.”

Legolas nodded. “Thank you, Frodo.” This room was in truth filled with Mithrandir’s comforting presence; he could rest easily here.

Frodo went to see to his other guests. By putting Pippin in with Merry, in the guest room Merry normally used, and putting Freddy and Gimli in Pippin’s usual room, then it freed enough rooms for Pearl, the Thain, and Saradoc and Esmeralda.

He had offered to put a cot in the kitchen for Tip, but the stable lad had preferred to camp with the Men, where the ponies would be picketed with the horses. Bergil, too, would remain with the Men while they were in Hobbiton.

Merry, Pippin and Freddy were helping Sam and Tip to bring in the various belongings of the guests. Merry put down a pack belonging to his mother.

“Thank you, Mr. Merry,” said Sam.

Merry grinned at Pippin behind Sam’s back. “Sam, when are you going to stop calling me ‘mister’?”

“Now Mr. Merry, you know that would not--” he stopped for a second in confusion. Merry and Pippin sniggered. Sam looked reproachfully at Frodo who had entered just in time to hear the exchange.

“No, Sam, I did not say a word to them, I promise.”

“Of course not,” laughed Pippin. “It was Legolas told us. One week without saying ‘proper’, I believe.”

Sam heaved a sigh. This was going to be a long week. “I think I’ll just be getting myself on down to Bagshot Row, now,” he said crossly.

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Merry and Pippin looked at the room. Among their earliest memories were visits to Bag End; and wherever Bilbo or Frodo put Pippin, he had almost always ended up in Merry’s bed in this very room--unless they both ended up in Frodo’s.

But as familiar as it was, that bed would no longer hold the both of them. In fact, it would probably not be comfortable for even one.

“Ent draughts,” sighed Pippin resignedly.

“Come on,” said Merry, as he started to pull the mattress off the bed to make a place upon the floor.

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Freddy was a bit apprehensive. He had never shared a room with a Dwarf before. There were, fortunately, two beds in this room. He did not think they would both have fit in one.

Gimli took off his armor, but did not otherwise undress, and instead lay down fully dressed on top of the bed. Freddy stepped behind the wardrobe door to put on his nightshirt.

He climbed into bed, but did not yet blow out the bedside candle. “Master Gimli?”

“Yes, lad?”

“What is it like to be friends with an Elf? I thought Elves and Dwarves did not get along?”

Gimli chuckled. “No more do they. But in truth, laddie, it is like any other friendship; love and comradeship help to overcome the differences, and any differences we do note are the fuel for teasing, and a source of joy.”

Friendship. Love. Comradeship. Tears stung his eyes, but he blinked them away; he put Folco’s flute on the table by the candle, and blew out the flame, and lay in the dark to wait for sleep or morning, whichever would come first.

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Frodo lay in his own bed, in his own room, under his own roof in Bag End. It was truly his first night there since his return to the Shire. The smial was full to overflowing with his dearest friends and kin.

Why, then, was he so lonely?

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*Song in italics from The Hobbit, Chapter 1, “An Unexpected Party”

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