Disclaimer: All names, places, and characters contained herein are property of Tolkien Enterprises, with which I am in no way affiliated. I am making no profit from writing this story.

Summary: Merry gifts Eowyn with a very unique present for her birthday. Appearances made by all of the Hobbits. Set in the first week of May 3019, before Eomer and Eowyn depart Minas Tirith for Edoras.

Author’s Notes: I made up all the riddles in this story, so please don’t laugh. They’re the first riddles I’ve ever made. I apologize if they’re not in proper form or not totally up to par.

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“Did you know that it’s the tradition of the Big Folk to receive gifts on their birthdays and not to give them?” Merry asked his elder cousin frantically.

“I know that Big People do many things differently from Hobbits, but I didn’t know that this particular tradition was different,” Frodo answered. “Why? How did you find out?”

“I was there when Eomer gave Eowyn her gift,” Merry replied. “She asked me where my gift to her was. I told her that it was a surprise and that I would give it to her later today.”

“And now you’re stuck without a present and a promise to keep,” Frodo finished for his cousin.

Merry nodded. “Please, Frodo, can you help me? Please?” He was practically begging.

“I don’t know how I could help,” Frodo said. “I don’t know Lady Eowyn very well, nor what kind of gift she may like.”

“I know what to give her,” Merry said, relieved that Frodo was willing to help. “I just need your help.”

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A knock on the door startled Eowyn. She had been engrossed in the book of poetry that Faramir had gifted her with earlier in the day. She usually didn’t like such things, but this book contained only epic ballads, some of them even Elvish, and she was finding it hard to set the book down for any extended period of time. “Come.”

“Lady Eowyn,” a messenger said, bowing low. “A letter from Sir Meriadoc.” He held out a sealed envelope.

Eowyn took the letter and opened it as the messenger departed. She couldn’t help but smile as she read the neat script on the page.

My Lady Eowyn:

Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder,
But I am thought beautiful by all.
Come to where there is neither weed nor bur,
To the place where the King calls.

“So we are playing a riddle game, then, Meriadoc?” Eowyn said to herself. “Let me see, then. A beautiful place, with neither weed nor bur.” She thought for a moment. “A garden, but which one?” She tapped her fingers upon her forearm in thought. “Where the King calls.” She fell silent, her brow furrowed in thought.

“The Houses of Healing!” she exclaimed to herself after a moment. “The King calls to the sick there and its gardens are held by all as the most beautiful in the city. That must be the answer.”

With that, Eowyn set off for the Houses of Healing. When she reached its gardens, however, she did not find Merry, but the holbytlan known as Samwise.

“Congratulations,” he said with a bow. Eowyn curtsied in response. He held out another sealed envelope. “For the next stage in your journey,” he explained. “Good luck.” With that, he turned and left her alone in the gardens.

Eowyn tore open the envelope and read its contents quickly. It was another riddle.

I am strong and can resist many foes,
Yet I am taken for granted by most.
I protect all, even the cow that lows
And of my skills I never boast.

Eowyn sat upon the nearest bench and thought on this new riddle. There were many places that could fit the description given: the mountain, the citadel, the wall…

“The wall,” Eowyn murmured, her gaze moving to the barrier that encircled the city. Sure enough, in the mid-afternoon sunlight, she could make out a halfling sitting atop the parapet. She couldn’t tell from this distance if it was Merry or one of his other companions.

Quite determinedly, Eowyn stood and made her way towards the wall. As she closed in on the halfling, she was somewhat disappointed to see that it was Peregrin sitting there and not Meriadoc.

“Ah, congratulations, my lady,” Pippin said, hopping down from the wall to bow to Eowyn. “Merry bids me to say that you will soon come to the end of you efforts, but that you are still only halfway there.”

“Are you to give me another riddle then?” Eowyn asked, crouching down to be level with Pippin.

“I am to give you another envelope, but I do not know what its contents are,” Pippin answered. “Meriadoc is the only one to have seen what is inside the them.” He pulled a rather crumpled envelope from the pocket of his breeches. “I apologize for the state of this. I suppose I shouldn’t have put it in my pocket.”

Eowyn smiled as she took the envelope from him. She stood up as Pippin trotted off, calling back “Good luck.” A moment later, she let the envelope fall to the ground as she read this newest riddle.

Few visit me, content in what they know,
So alone I remain in the heat and in the cold.
The Steward and the Pilgrim alone to me go.
A wealth of forgotten knowledge I hold.

“The Pilgrim?” Eowyn wondered aloud. She couldn’t recall anyone in Gondor being known as the Pilgrim. She decided for the moment to leave that bit of information until she had figured out the rest of the riddle. “It sounds like a Seer or fortune teller, but Faramir is not the only one to seek out a fortune teller’s tent at the street fairs. To what place does only Faramir go?”

Eowyn pondered on her betrothed and his habits. He awoke every morning and took his breakfast in his rooms. He met with the King for most of the morning and then took lunch with Eowyn. In the afternoon, he usually went to the libraries to find a little peace…

“The libraries,” Eowyn sighed. “Of course. A wealth of forgotten knowledge.” She now remembered a tidbit of information that had previously slipped her mind. “Mithrandir,” she muttered to herself, knowing that she must appear mad to any onlookers. “The Grey Pilgrim is what Gandalf is called here.”

Knowing that she was getting closer to her goal, whatever it might happen to be, Eowyn descended from the wall and made her way up the levels of the city, ever steering for the Citadel. When she reached the seventh level, however, she bypassed the main entrance and made her way to a little known door that led to the corridor right outside the libraries.

Upon opening the door, Eowyn was greeted with the sight of the Ringbearer sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the wall. His eyes were closed, but he must not have been asleep because his eyes flicked opened with the click of the door as Eowyn closed it. When he saw her, he got his feet beneath himself and bowed.

Eowyn blushed as she curtsied low. She should be the one bowing to him. Eomer had told her of the King’s proclamation that the Ringbearer was to bow to no one. Apparently, that edict was not in effect when playing riddle games.

“Congratulations on reaching the final step of your journey, my lady,” Frodo said, sliding his right hand into the pocket of his breeches. “My cousin wishes for me to say that your efforts this day will be greatly rewarded when you reach your final destination.” He held out an envelope in his left hand.

“Thank you,” Eowyn said, taking the envelope in slightly trembling hands. She had never had the occasion to speak with the Ringbearer and she found, much to her chagrin, that she was shaking. “Then you know what my reward is to be?”

“Of course,” Frodo answered, his left hand now resting in his pocket. “Good luck.” Before Eowyn could say another word, he had slipped around her and was out the door.

Eowyn impatiently tore into this final envelope and found not a riddle, but a single sentence: Meriadoc Brandybuck respectfully requests that the Lady Eowyn join him on the balcony outside her rooms in the Citadel of Gondor.

With a smile, Eowyn carefully refolded the letter and made her way to her rooms by means of the fastest route possible. She opened her door and found Merry standing in the middle of the room.

“Merry? What is this all about?” Eowyn questioned, holding up the papers she had acquired in her excursion through the city.

“You’ll see in just a moment,” Merry answered, taking Eowyn’s hand and leading her across the room. “Now I have to ask that you grant me one final request and close your eyes until I say you can open them.” Eowyn obliged him and obediently followed when Merry tugged on her hand. She knew she had stepped onto the balcony as she felt the breeze gently caress her face.

“Open your eyes,” Merry said.

Eowyn gasped as she took in the sight before her. A small table had been brought out on to the balcony and upon it sat the most beautiful scabbard that she had ever seen. Runes of protection were beaten into the leather and many opals surrounded the belt and ran in curving lines down the length of the scabbard.

“I know Faramir gifted you with a beautiful sword for your betrothal,” Merry said, “but that he neglected to give you a scabbard worthy of holding such a weapon.”

“Merry, how did you…” Eowyn trailed off, unable to finish her question. She reached a hand out and touched the leather, overcome with awe.

“Frodo helped me,” Merry admitted. “Anyone in the city would do anything for him, even if he asked for such a scabbard to be fashioned in only a few hours time.”

Eowyn turned to Merry. She fell to her knees and embraced him tightly. “Thank you, my dearest Merry,” she whispered. “This is the most beautiful birthday present I have ever received.”

Merry smiled, though he knew Eowyn couldn’t see it. “It was my pleasure.”

The End