Happy birthday, Shirebound! And happy belated birthdays, Cookiefleck and Grey Wonderer! 

Summary: Why didn’t the Eagles just fly the Ring to Mordor? Sam’s children, niece and nephew think they know why.

Flights of Fancy

Sam is 51, Rose 47, Elanor 10, Frodo 8, Rose-lass 6; Tom 51, Marigold 49, Young Tom 8, and Lilah is 7

29 Halimath, 1431 SR

“And so it was that Gwaihir saw them with his keen far-seeing eyes, as down the wild wind he came, and daring the great peril of the skies he circled in the air: two small dark figures, forlorn, hand in hand upon a little hill, while the world shook under them, and gasped, and rivers of fire drew near. And even as he espied them and came swooping down, he saw them fall, worn out, or choked with fumes and heat, or stricken down by despair at last, hiding their eyes from death. 

“Side by side they lay; and down swept Gwaihir, and down came Landroval and Meneldor the swift; and in a dream, not knowing what fate had befallen them, the wanderers were lifted up and borne far away out of the darkness and the fire.”*

Sam closed the Red Book with care. His audience was silent as he took a deep breath and the tight knot in his throat slowly dissolved. After all these years, reliving that moment, when the Ring was destroyed and his master was set free from its grasp, could still prove overwhelming for him. That they finally reached this passage on today of all days, the ten-year anniversary of his master’s sailing into the West, was an irony Sam could not quite wrap his head around. Deciding it was best not to try, he took a deep breath and turned to his children and their cousins. 

Tom and Marigold were visiting for the afternoon, and Tom had been persuaded into sitting in on the reading by the children. Tom couldn’t deny them when they gathered around him and pleaded en masse. Those large round eyes, so beseeching, those usually smiling lips, pouting so imploringly, he had caved in an instant. In truth, Marigold would have sent him off at any rate, and Sam had been asking him to read the Red Book for years now. Tom really had meant to, but one thing or another prevented him from following through. Having no other excuse now, he had allowed Elanor, Frodo-lad, Rose-lass, Lilah and Young Tom to take him by the hands and guide him into the study, where the readings always took place.

Sam wondered what their wives and youngest children were doing. No doubt, the youngest had been put to their midday naps by now. Merry, Pippin, Goldilocks, Rosalie and Holfast would be sleeping in a row in the parlor, under the dutiful watch of their mothers, while Rose and Marigold would be taking the opportunity to gossip as they ironed and folded laundry. 

Sam looked over at Tom, only to find Tom watching him, his brow creased in thought. Tom was about to open his mouth to say something but his son was faster.

“I’m confused about somewhat, Uncle Sam,” Tom-lad said.

“What’s that?” Sam asked.

Tom-lad concentrated for a moment, trying to sort out the various thoughts running through his head to best communicate his concern. “It’s just, the Eagles were there.”

Sam shot a glance at Tom. ‘Did that make sense to you or is it just me?’

Tom shrugged, the crease deepening. ‘I’m just as lost as you are.’

“Yes, they were,” Sam said, hoping to prod more information from the lad.

“So, they flew there. All the way from the North,” Tom-lad went on.

“Yes, they did,” Sam said, waiting.

“So, they helped Gandalf all that time, flying him everywhere.”

“Yes.”

“So, why didn’t they just take the Ring to Mordor themselves?” Tom-lad asked.

“Hmph,” Tom harrumphed in response. “That’s a good question.” This was not the remark he was about to make on the story, but any other thoughts had now been pushed out by his son’s question. 

The children all turned their heads towards Sam. “Is that true, Dad?” Frodo-lad asked. “Could the Eagles have taken the Ring instead?”

“It would have been a lot easier to get the Ring to the Eagles than to Mordor,” Lilah said.

“Says who?” Elanor asked. “The Fellowship never went anywhere near the Eagles.”

“The Eagles can fly,” Lilah answered with a roll of her eyes. “Obviously, the Eagles could come to them. They came to help Gandalf. Tommy just said so.”

“I don’t like that tone, Lilah,” Tom warned.

“But, Daddy, Tommy just said,” Lilah said.

Sam held up a hand for silence and received it immediately. They all knew the rules if they wanted to come into the study to hear the Red Book: sit still, be respectful, and never touch the book without permission.

“The Eagles came to find Gandalf at Radagast’s request,” Sam said. “Elanor is right. We never went near the Eagles, and trying to get to them when we got out of Moria, with orcs on our hides, wouldn’t have been possible, even if we had thought of it.”

“So then why didn’t anyone think of it?” Rose-lass asked.

“Yes, why didn’t anyone think of it?” Tom asked. “Would have saved you all a mess of trouble, to my thinking. Your feet alone...”

“What’s wrong with my feet?” Sam asked with a huff.

“They’re all scarred on the bottoms,” Frodo-lad said.

“Those are scars well worth having,” Sam said. 

“But you said sometimes your feet hurt,” Rose-lass said.

“That’s not from the scars, dearest. Your old dad just can’t keep up with so many children as easily as he once did,” Sam said.

“Will you let him answer the question?” Elanor interrupted, her hands going to her hips in perfect imitation of her mother. Even her voice and tone were exactly like Rose’s, so much so that Sam actually looked at the door, expecting his wife to be standing there. “Sorry, Sam-dad. Go on.”

“Yes, right,” Sam muttered, thinking furiously. It was a fair question, and no doubt it had a fair answer, but Sam was hard-pressed to think of one at the moment. So instead, he asked a question of his own. “And just how were you supposing the Eagles would get the Ring into Mordor and throw it into Mt. Doom without being noticed?”

“That’s easy,” Tom-lad said. “They’d fly in at night.”

“Wrong. The Ring-wraiths see best at night, and they can sense when the Ring is near,” Frodo-lad said. “They’d’ve been spotted, and the wraiths had those flying beasts. Did the beasts used to be Eagles?”

“Could be,” Elanor said. “The orcs used to be elves, and Sauron couldn’t create new life, only corrupt it.”

“They must have been then. Where did the Balrogs come from?” Rose-lass asked.

“I’ll not be knowing that, and I doubt there’s any left in Middle-earth as do,” Sam said. “The Eagles now though, they were Maia, like Gandalf. Seeing as Gandalf didn’t dare to carry the Ring, then I’d guess the Eagles would feel the same.”

“But the Eagles could have flown into Mordor where no one would see or sense them,” Tom-lad pressed. “They wouldn’t have to fly over the main gate. They could have come from anywhere, take a multi-pronged attack.”

Sam lifted an eyebrow at his friend. ‘Multi-pronged?’

Tom lifted an eyebrow in response. ‘It’s your fault he knows such phrases.’

“And how would that attack have ended?” Sam asked, interested to see what the lad would come up with. 

“They get past the Wraiths and fly inward to Mt. Doom. Then the Eagle holding the Ring would drop it into the fire. The Ring is destroyed and everyone is free!” Tom-lad said, lifting up his hands in joyous victory. He smiled smugly. “Easy as pie, which actually isn’t very easy to make.”

“It’s easy to eat,” Frodo-lad said, and the children all nodded in agreement.

“Especially cherry,” Rose-lass said, licking her lips.

“How would the Eagles carry the Ring?” Elanor asked. “They couldn’t wear it. They couldn’t simply hold it in their talons. It would have shrunk and slipped through.”

Tom-lad’s smile shrunk in response but grew again an instant later. “The one with the Ring would wear it on a chain around his neck, just like Mr. Frodo, and when they got to the mountain, he’d cut through the chain with his beak, and the Ring would go into the fire and all would be saved.” He nodded with finality.

“What if there’s a gust of wind?” Elanor asked, smug now herself. “The wind pushes the Ring off it’s original trajectory and instead of going into the fire where it will be destroyed, it falls on the mountainside, where Sauron would no doubt be able to sense it and send his Wraiths to retrieve it, on the off chance the wraiths aren’t already on their tail feathers. What then?”

“Eagles have excellent eyesight,” Lilah said, coming to her brother’s defense, “whereas the wraiths can’t see a thing.”

“But it’s nighttime,” Rose-lass said.”

“Well, even so, they’d be able to spot the Ring and pick it up before the Wraiths got there,” Lilah said. “Then they could try again.”

“How do they pick it up?” Elanor asked. “We already decided they can’t use their talons. They’d have to pick it up in their beaks, and ring’s being the shape they are, and that Ring being as tricky as it was, it would have slipped around the bearer’s beak, so he would technically be wearing it, sending him into the wraith world where he will most definitely be spotted by Sauron and the Ring-wraiths.”

“Maybe Daddy’s right and they wouldn’t want to take the Ring at all,” Rose-lass said. “It doesn’t sound very safe for them either.”

“I think they’d take it, if only to be able to get folk from telling them to fly them everywhere,” Frodo said. “It didn’t seem to be their favorite thing to do.”

“That’s just silly. Cupcake and Icing love to go for rides,” Lilah said.

“Cupcake and Icing are not Eagle names,” Frodo said, offended on behalf of the majestic birds. “They’re ponies, and you can’t ride ponies into Mordor.”

“It doesn’t mean the Eagles couldn’t have fun giving folk rides,” Lilah said.

“The Eagles can fly whenever they want; ponies can’t,” Frodo retorted. “Why would they want to carry people about while they’re doing it.”

“They could still have fun,” Lilah said, crossing her arms and pouting.

“I doubt Gwaihir had any fun when he picked up Gandalf from the Misty Mountains,” Tom-lad said.

“Why?” Elanor asked.

“He was naked,” Tom-lad said, and turned to Sam. “Why was he naked?”

“Wanted to lay out in the sun, I suppose,” Sam answered, not wanting to get into that particular discussion on today of all days. He had a hard enough time thinking of the West at the best of times, and trying to explain where and how Gandalf had gone there and come back, when Mr. Frodo couldn’t, would only lead to more questions.

“Maybe, the Eagles could carry Frodo with the Ring into Mordor,” Tom-lad said, returning to the original topic. “They could set him down on the mountainside and Mr. Frodo could then throw the Ring into the fire, the Eagles could pick him back up, and we’d be free.”

“Frodo-dad never could have thrown the Ring into the fire,” Elanor said with a much put-upon sigh. “That’s the point. Who would have been there to make sure the Ring was destroyed?”

“Sam-dad,” Frodo said. “Without Gollum there to knock him on the head, he’d’ve been able to get to Frodo and--”

“And force him to let go the Ring?” Sam asked, a small smile gracing his lips. “I’d’ve been too worried about breaking his mind. And do you suggest that I should have fallen into the fire in Gollum’s place?”

“You wouldn’t have had to fall. You would have been able to throw it in. You were able to give the Ring back to Uncle Frodo in the tower,” Frodo-lad reasoned.

“I’d only had the Ring for a day or so, during most of which I was knocked out, and we were still on the boundaries of Mordor, not in the place of its forging. Besides, it was my duty to my master that allowed me to give it back to him. Not that it didn’t play with my head even more after that, mind you,” Sam said. “By the time we got to Mt. Doom, I doubt I’d’ve been able to toss it in either.”

Tom patted Sam’s shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. This was the most he had ever heard Sam talk about this part of the Quest, and he knew it couldn’t be easy for his friend. When Sam did talk about the Quest, it was almost always the lighter moments, sitting around campfires or drifting down that river. He spoke of Rivendell, Lothlorien and Minas Tirith often, and could go on for nearly an hour about the beauty of Ithilien. But of Mordor he never spoke except on rare occasions and Tom could understand why, giving what Sam had just read. 

“So, then, the Eagles would take Gollum too,” Tom-lad suggested, breaking into his father’s thoughts.

“Gollum was in Moria, trying to get out the west door,” Elanor said, “and no one knew he was there until the Fellowship went in. How would they have found him? Besides, no one knew what part Gollum would have to play in the Ring’s destruction. No one would have even thought of him.”

“Gandalf knew,” Frodo said.

“Gandalf suspected,” Elanor corrected, “and only that Gollum had a part to play. He didn’t know Gollum would ultimately be the one to destroy the Ring. His part could have simply been to keep Mordor looking elsewhere while Frodo got closer to Mordor.”

“Maybe they could have taken Lotho Pimple,” Rose suggested. “He could have gone into the fire in Gollum’s place and saved the Shire a load of trouble.”

“So Frodo-dad should have sacrificed his own cousin?” Frodo-lad asked. “As much as they didn’t like each other, Frodo would never have done that. Besides, no one knew what Lotho was about to do.”

“Mr. Frodo wouldn’t have sacrificed anyone anyway,” Tom-lad said. “He didn’t even want folk killing Sharkey. It was Master Meriadoc and Mr. Pippin as sorted out the ruffians.”

“They were only able to do so because of the training they got during the Quest,” Sam said gently. “If they had stayed behind, they’d’ve been just as unprepared as everyone else. And the very reason Mr. Frodo didn’t want those folk dead was the same one as got him to Mordor in the first place. Don’t mistake compassion for weakness, lad.”

“Yes, Uncle Sam,” Tom-lad said dutifully. 

“Why couldn’t the Eagles fly down low enough to the fire that the Ring wouldn’t get blown onto the mountainside?” Lilah asked.

“Then proceed to burn up in the immediate eruption of Mt. Doom?” Rose-lass asked. 

“You are making this very difficult,” Tom-lad accused.

“You’re trying to make it too easy,” Elanor returned. 

“And you’re all trying to give me a headache,” Sam said, though he smiled kindly as he said it. “This discussion is officially over. The Eagles didn’t take the Ring to Mordor and there’s no use discussing the why’s and why not’s of it. Now go on, off you get. Go outside and run about a bit. Don’t trample the gardens!”

Sam and Tom sat back and relaxed once the children were gone. They could hear the children out in the garden, discussing who would play the roles of Gandalf and the Eagles. Frodo-lad as always played Frodo, and Elanor was chosen this time to play Sam.

Sam and Tom chuckled. “I bet as they’re the only ones to be playing that game,” Tom said.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Sam agreed. “Were you wanting to ask something, Tom, afore the younglings interrupted?”

Tom had to think hard before he remembered. “Just, why is it Gandalf felt he needed so many Eagles to go with him into Mordor? I can understand the third, in case Gollum was still about, but why the others?”

Sam shrugged. “In case some didn’t make it, I suppose. The mountain was still erupting. They could’ve been hit by rock or set ablaze by the fire, just as Elanor said. Was that all?”

Tom stood and stretched his back. He reached out a finger but stopped just shy of touching the Red Book. “Rosie had told me some of what you told her, and you told me bits of it yourself, but I never really understood. I’m going to have to get over here more often to read this thing, aren’t I?"

“Only if you really want to know,” Sam said, understanding Tom’s hesitance, probably more than even Tom himself. “Tis a good tale, but it’s a long one and not always easy.”

“What happens next?” Tom asked.

“Oh, well, that’s the happily ever after part,” Sam said with a wink. “No point spoiling that for you.”

A light wrapping sounded on the door and Rose stuck in her head. She looked around and noted the lack of children, then heard them outdoors through the open window. “All done then? What took so long?” She eyed Sam suspiciously. Her husband had a tendency of turning a short story into a long tale.

“The children wanted to know why the Eagles didn’t just fly the Ring to Mordor,” Sam said. “There was quite a debate about it.”

“And what was decided?” Marigold said, coming into the study behind Rose. 

“The debate rages on,” Tom said, “though you know, I do think that if the Eagles had carried Frodo with the Ring--”

“All the way to Mordor?” Marigold interrupted, aghast. “He’d’ve got his chill of cold, being up there so high for so long.”

“He might have fallen!” Rose added, looking equally as distrustful at this suggestion, not to mention the unseen Eagles. 

“The Eagles wouldn’t’ve dropped us,” Sam said. “Besides, they flew Gandalf around just fine.”

“If you call showing up late for your meeting with him just fine. Honestly, they could have brought Gandalf to the Shire instead of that horse-place,” Rose said.

“They’re not messenger birds, love,” Sam said. “They had their own battles to fight before they could come to help anyone else.”

“Well, then, there’s your answer,” Marigold said. “Now get off your lazy bums and get into the kitchen. We can’t do everything, you know.”

“Looks like we’re on supper duty, my friend,” Tom said. “Let’s get into the pantries and see what’s to cook.”

“Lazy are we?” Sam asked his sister.

“Sitting around reading from books and debating over make believe, while we’re here working our fingers to the bone; yes, I’d call that lazy,” Marigold said.

“I pity Tom then.”

“And what is that supposed to mean? Tom is quite happy, aren’t you, Tom? ... Tom? Don’t pretend you don’t hear me!”

“Will you look at all these taters?” Tom’s voice floated out from the pantry, overly exuberant. “We could make mash!”

Marigold threw up her hands, Sam wisely waited until he was in the pantry to start laughing, and Rose simply shook her head. She returned to the parlor with Marigold. It was time to wake the children and continue with the daily adventure of family and friends.

GF 3/29/10

* - Return of the King, “The Field of Cormallen”