Disclaimer: All the settings and characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien (except for the minstrel Menelor and the more fully realised Farohan who was nameless in the books). This story is my way of working out or interpreting ideas and concepts already present in The Lord of the Rings. This is done for enjoyment, and for sharing, but not for profit.

Author's Note: The long quotation at the end of this chapter is lifted directly out of The Return of the King. The words are written, of course, by Tolkien (George Allen & Unwin, 1965, p. 232). They are set in italics for identification.

Chapter 12: Silver and Gold

For several moments there was neither sound nor movement. At last, Farohan laid the great harp gently down and sat back. Merry raised his head and he saw the minstrel's hands shaking. Slowly, others stirred. Gandalf took out his pipe and lit it. Was that a tremble in his hands, Merry wondered, watching him closely.

"Thank you, Farohan," said Aragorn in that same hushed voice he had used for Menelor. But he did not speak further.

At last Menelor stood. He looked around the circle and stopped for a moment at Farohan. He then faced Aragorn and spoke. "I believe, my lord, when I say this, that these are not my thoughts alone. Farohan should be the one to sing for the Ring-bearers tomorrow. Despite my warning to you of three days ago, I think that he is ready. Not only is he ready, but he has done more than I thought he could in such a short time. Respectfully, I would like to resign the task--no, the honour--to him."

Aragorn looked at Menelor closely and nodded. "Merry," he said, "is this in accord with your wishes?"

"It is," Merry said. "And yet," he said after a moment of thought, "I'd be awfully sorry if Menelor's lay weren't heard at all."

"Isn't there some way for it to be sung?" asked Pippin. "Maybe on another day?"

Aragorn nodded. "I agree. Would you, Menelor, be willing to play at another time?"

"I would," said Menelor.

"Good!" said Merry, delighted. "That settles it then. As I said once before: two lays! Sam will simply be beside himself."

~o~O~o~

But as Farohan left the tent, Menelor pulled him aside.

"I want to tell you," Menelor said in a low voice, "that never have I been so surprised and delighted on hearing you sing as I have tonight. You have done well. You have truly done well."

Farohan's hands relaxed upon the pillar of his harp. "Thank you, Master," he said softly.

Then Menelor gripped Farohan's shoulder. "But never, never, never leave it to the very last possible moment again! You managed it this time, but if you do not wish to be the death of me, I beg you that that be the last time!" His voice was stern, but there was a twinkle in his eye. "Honestly--you had me thoroughly convinced that you couldn't do it."

"I know," said Farohan. "I know, and I am sorry. Yet that delay allowed me to learn and see in a way I would never have imagined. I wouldn't change one moment, even to spare you the anxiety."

Menelor shook his head. "I see that. And I wouldn't ask you to--not now." His voice became brisk. "Yet if you are to sing tomorrow, you had best sleep while you may. You are pale. I am quite sure that you have not slept in days."

Farohan laughed ruefully. "You are right," he said.

"Then go! I would not have you forget your words on the morrow for lack of sleep. Leave the harp once you reach the tent. I will wrap it. Go!"

"Thank you," Farohan whispered, and he obeyed Menelor's command with alacrity.

~o~O~o~

Men looked with curiosity at the four friends as they walked out of Aragorn's tent and across the emptied space. Yet none of the four spoke until they were past the guards. Then Pippin said, "Let's sit on one of those ships. I fancy being in the open tonight."

And so they did. Soon the two hobbits lay on the deck, Pippin covered warmly in blankets fetched by Gimli. Legolas stood at the prow, and Gimli sat with his back to the side.

"The stars shine tonight," said Merry. The ship rocked slightly beneath him, and the water of the Anduin gurgled and lapped against the hull.

"And Eärendil crosses low in the west," said Legolas. His hair lifted slightly in the breeze off the water.

"Frodo and Sam wake tomorrow," said Pippin. "We will see them again. Oh, Merry! Imagine that. Things really will be all right, won't they." Then he laughed. "As if things aren't all right now! But you know what I'm on about, I daresay."

Merry reached over and squeezed Pippin's hand.

"I know, Pip. I'm just as excited as you are."

A deep chuckle came from Gimli. "We all are. But just you remember, young hobbit, that if you intend on fulfilling your duties during the festivities, you do not overtire yourself in the morning. I would not like to see you fall over after too much enthusiasm!"

Legolas laughed then and he turned back from looking out over the water. "I fear it not. I shall simply whisper a few words in the ear of Beregond. He has proven most attentive to Pippin's needs. He will ensure that enough rest is taken!"

Pippin scowled. "He is not a nursemaid!" But his petulance did not last long. "Just imagine how Frodo and Sam will look when they hear the lay."

"The lay," Merry said as if in a dream. He laced his fingers and put his hands behind his head. He looked at the stars. "I felt as if I were there. Alongside them. I could feel it!"

"And I also," said Legolas. "It is astonishing that a mortal's music could move me so. Yet it is fitting, for it was written by a skilled singer for a friend whom I love."

"As for me," said Gimli, "the notes seemed like jewels that sparkled as they came forth."

"I liked the Elvish words," said Pippin. "It sounded as if he were singing the way Elves do." He raised his head slightly. "Did he, Legolas? Was he good?"

"He did not sound like an Elf," said Legolas. "But he sang the words well. Any Elf would be satisfied with his pronunciation."

"I think that means yes," said Merry. "And I'm sure old Sam won't be able to tell, or won't care anyway." He was quiet for a little while, and then suddenly raised himself on one elbow. "There were Elvish words?"

Pippin laughed. "Of course there were, silly. Didn't you hear them?"

"Well, no. I didn't," Merry said slowly. "Words didn't seem to.. to stand out. I don't know. I remember feeling what happened, but not hearing about it in words. How odd. I must have heard them."

"Fro--do..." Pippin sang.

Merry turned to him with shining eyes. "Yes. I did hear that. Oh, yes."

But then he was quiet, and so too were the others, until the full moon rose into the sky

And then at last, Gimli took up a sleeping Pippin and bore him back to his tent, and Merry and Legolas followed behind, each lost in his thoughts.

~o~O~o~

Farohan ran his hand over the wood of the wall that stood between him and the river. The grain of the newly cut wood shone golden in the late morning sun.

The King had this built for me, Farohan thought in wonder. He had asked for it and it was built.

Just a little towards the trees were three grassy hillocks fashioned into seats: throne-like in their stature, yet simple and rustic in their make.

They will sit there--all three, he thought and he knelt before them.

"They aren't here yet," a teasing voice said behind him. And before Farohan could get up, Pippin walked before him.

"But they will be soon," said Merry, and there he was also. "Have you heard? Frodo awoke early this morning, and Sam might at any time."

"Have you seen him yet?" asked Farohan eagerly. He sat back on his heels.

"No," said Merry. "Not yet. Gandalf is with them now, and we don't want to crowd around. Not yet, anyways!"

"Have you slept?" asked Pippin. "You look a sight better now than you did last night."

Farohan laughed, slightly giddily. "Astonishingly well. I thought that I'd be too nervous, yet I seemed to relax as soon as I lay down. I don't think that I have had such a deep and pure sleep since perhaps I was a child."

Pippin grinned. "Are you ready? Have you sung yet this morning?"

"Yes," Farohan said. "I assure you, Pippin, that I have indeed sung."

"Excellent," Merry said. "Ah, there was something we wanted to talk to you about--concerning the lay, that is."

"Oh?" said Farohan, a little warily.

"Don't worry!" said Merry. "We don't want to change anything."

"It's just," said Pippin, "that we don't want Frodo and Sam to know that we helped you with it: answering questions and all that."

"Why not?" asked Farohan, his curiosity piqued.

"Well," said Merry, "you see, it seems as if it would be more of a mystery or part of a legend if it looks like you didn't have help from all of us. A bit more magical, if you will. Sam would like that, I think."

"And they might feel a bit peculiar if they knew that we'd all been talking about them so closely, in such detail," said Pippin. "We don't know, of course, but they might."

"Of course we don't expect you to lie to them," added Merry, "but... just... don't offer them the truth."

"Unless they ask for it," said Pippin.

"And you can't escape," said Merry.

Farohan put up his hands. "I won't offer the truth unless they ask. But it is likely that I won't meet them; minstrels often do not meet the subjects of their lays." He shrugged and smiled wistfully. "We are only seen by them when we sing."

The Hobbits considered this. "That's a pity," said Pippin. "But I don't see why--"

Pippin's next words were cut off by a sudden stir in the woods and glades about them. As the three turned to look, Menelor could be seen carrying the great harp, all wrapped, and striding towards them.

"The perian Samwise has woken," he said when he reached them. "The entire company is preparing to come. The pheriannath will soon be ready to be brought hither."

Farohan took the harp carefully from Menelor's arms. "I am ready," he said.

"Then you will do well! And I hardly need tell you: send your voice forth as loudly as you may!"

And with that, Menelor left as quickly as he had come.

"We had better go too," said Pippin.

"Yes," said Merry. But as he turned to leave, he stopped and said, "I hope that we may still speak again. But if we do not have a chance, I would like to thank you for your great kindness. You listened to us, and... and you have become our friend."

"Yes," said Pippin. "Oh, I do hope we don't lose sight of one another!"

Farohan could not speak and only looked at them with shining eyes. But then, to his lasting surprise and delight, both Merry and Pippin bowed to him deeply, in the strange manner of hobbits.

They had to part then, for time was slipping away. But Farohan bowed his own head, with his arms around the harp, and he stood still and he waited.

~o~O~o~

The great company was assembled, and all was quiet. Then, calling through the warm air came the peal of a lone trumpet. The host turned as one and faced the archway of trees.

Farohan could not see past the companies of men. Standing, as he was, in front of the curved wall and to the side of the three seats, he could only see the King as he sat upon the grassy throne, the sword Andúril across his knees.

But then arose a great clamour from the host, and Farohan gripped the harp tightly.

They come! he thought, and he swallowed. They come!

And Aragorn rose and went forward. Farohan could not see him for the multitude of the host, but soon the King returned. A warm rush of gladness rose within Farohan then, for holding the hands of the King were Frodo upon the right and Samwise upon the left.

And jubilantly with all the rest of the company, he cried out in answer to the King.

"Praise them with great praise!"

~o~O~o~

And when the glad shout had swelled up and died away again, to Sam's final and complete satisfaction and pure joy, a minstrel of Gondor stood forth, and knelt, and begged leave to sing. And behold! he said:

"Lo! lords and knights and men of valour unashamed, kings and princes, and fair people of Gondor, and Riders of Rohan, and ye sons of Elrond, and Dúnedain of the North, and Elf and Dwarf, and greathearts of the Shire, and all free folk of the West, now listen to my lay. For I will sing to you of Frodo of the Nine Fingers and the Ring of Doom."

And when Sam heard that he laughed aloud for sheer delight, and he stood up and cried: 'O great glory and splendour! And all my wishes have come true!" And then he wept.

And all the host laughed and wept, and in the midst of their merriment and tears the clear voice of the minstrel rose like silver and gold, and all men were hushed. And he sang to them, now in the Elven-tongue, now in the speech of the West, until their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.

To be continued