Chapter 4. Campfire Tales

Diamond stroked the hair back from her sleeping husband's forehead as Faramir finished his story.

'...and then the orc tripped the guardsman, and he fell into the stream and got his bath after all!'

Diamond chuckled. Faramir got up to put more wood on the fire. 'How's he doing?'

'He's asleep,' she said softly. 'D'you think you can tuck more blankets about him without waking him?'

'I'll do my best.' He eased a folded blanket under his father's shoulders and back, then wrapped another around his baby sister for good measure, making sure she could still get plenty of air to breathe. 'I think she's keeping him warm,' he marvelled.

'O yes,' Diamond agreed. 'Better than a flannel-wrapped brick fresh from the oven,' she said. 'More cuddly, too.' She smiled down at her own bundle. 'Would you like to hold your brother a bit?'

'I thought you'd never ask,' Faramir said, settling next to his mother and holding out his arms. 'I've waited a long time for him.'

Diamond smiled down at her two sons. 'I know you have,' she said softly. 'The best things are worth waiting for.'

'O yes, they are,' her eldest son agreed, cuddling the babe close. His eyes widened as he looked up at Diamond. 'You're right,' he said in wonder. 'He's better than a bedwarmer!'

She laughed. 'He is at that,' she agreed. Looking into the fire, she sighed as she stroked her husband's hair.

The white Moon rode high above the treetops, casting his cold light upon the nearby road.

'I wonder where Ferdibrand is,' she said softly. 'I hope he hasn't fallen in a ditch.'

'Or been kidnapped by wayward dwarves,' Faramir answered. He yawned and stretched, and cuddling the babe with one arm, got up and draped another blanket over his mother. 'That's the last blanket,' he said.

'O Faramir...' she began.

He interrupted. 'I'm fine, don't worry about me! I have my own bedwarmer, fresh from the hearth, remember?' He saw the worry in her face, looking down at his father, before she turned to him and smiled again. 'How about another story?' he said.

'I'd like that,' his mother answered.

'All right, then,' he said, falling easily into his father's storytelling lilt. 'An elf, a dwarf, and a Ranger went a-journey in the Wilds of Middle-earth upon a time; d'you remember their names, now?'

'Legolas,' his mother smiled.

'Yes, Legolas was the elf's name, and the dwarf was...'

'Gimli.'

'And the Ranger's name doesn't matter, for Rangers never give their names, not their true names anyhow, suffice it to say he was a Ranger, and a grubby one for all that.'

Having met the King a few years earlier at the Brandywine Bridge, Diamond only smiled and shook her head. He had cleaned up handsome enough.

'Well, one day, don't you know, they camped aside the laughing waters of a tumbling stream and as they sat down to a cold meal of waybread and dried meat, the keen-eyed elf saw a fish jump. He was on his feet in an instant.' The lad sat up straight, his expression somehow becoming that of a hungry, keen-eyed elf.

' "What is it?" the Ranger asked, hand to his sword. "Is there an enemy approaching, Legolas?" '

' "Yes," said the elf softly, (for you know they speak stiff and proper, elves do), "a veritable army waits to be slain." He smiled then, and the Ranger relaxed. "I have a hunger for freshly caught fish, can I interest you in the endeavor?" '

' "We really ought not have a fire..." the Ranger began, but the elf interrupted him.'

' "The wood is dry and will make little enough smoke," he said. "And I think the Fellowship will travel all the better on the morrow for a good meal now." His companions agreed, and he and the Ranger walked to the stream. They had fished together before, you see, and each knew his place. There were great bodies moving under the waters, and the companions' mouths began to water even as they watched.' In his eyes, the boy's mother could see the flicker of fins beneath the surface of a fast moving stream.

'And so the elf skipped across the slippery stones as light of foot as a hobbit treading his garden path in the cool of the evening,' he went on. 'Suddenly he dipped to the surface of the water, and quicker than your eye could see he flipped a fish into the air, right to the Ranger, who caught it, slapped it against a rock, and tossed it on the bank, standing ready for another.'

Holding the sleeping babe in one arm, the lad's other hand gestured expressively, and Diamond could almost picture the scene. 'One fish, then two, then three they caught, and then he gazed long into the stream whilst the companions watched the great shapes moving lazily in the current.'

Diamond nodded, having heard the story many times, but enjoying the retelling with all the same cadences that her husband used to tell it.

'Now remember, there was a dwarf in the party...'

'Gimli,' she put in, as expected.

'O aye, that's right, and he was a mite impatient, he was. He stepped for'ards, saying, "We might as well die of hunger before you finish your task! With all the big fish in the stream, why don't you catch just one and be done with it!" '

' "Why don't you give it a try?" shouted the elf with a laugh. "Let's see who can catch the bigger fish! Would you like to put a wager on it?" The wood elves are great ones for playing games and wagering you know.'

'Yes, I'd heard that,' Pippin murmured, and Diamond looked down to see him awake, watching his son with mingled amusement and pride.

' "You're on!" cried the dwarf, "Just watch how a dwarf fishes! Why, 'tis as easy as..." '

'One, two, three!' Pippin and Diamond chimed in.

The lad nodded, continuing. 'And so the dwarf went a-wading into the stream, poised tensely above the water, waiting for a monster to come to him. But alas, just as he bent to the water, a treacherous rock turned beneath his foot and threw him into the stream. The playful water became suddenly a beast of prey, seizing the dwarf in its claws, dashing his head against a rock to subdue him, clutching him and dragging him down to where the rapids would toss him like a cat with a hapless mouse.'

Pippin uncorked his bottle of brandy and took a swig, corked it again, and motioned for Faramir to go on.

'The Ranger dashed along the bank, but the elf ran lightly from rock to rock in the midst of the stream until he outraced the current and turned back. He seized the dwarf as best he could, taking him by his beard and dragging him to the shore to the arms of the waiting Ranger. Together they pulled him up on the bank and squeezed the water from his lungs. And while they awaited his awakening, they caught the rest of the string of fish and fried up a fine fish supper...'

Diamond saw Pippin shiver, and urged him to drink some more.

'I hate to drink alone,' he said, so she toasted him with her own bottle, taking the merest sip. She wasn't the one lying on the cold ground under a coach, after all.

'Drink up,' she said. 'There's more where that came from.' He finished the bottle and she uncorked another, just to be ready for him when he needed it. 'Go on, Faramir, we're listening.'

'Well, some time later the dwarf awakened and wanted to know what happened. The elf was delighted to enlighten him. We'd saved him some fish, as a matter of fact, but for some reason he'd lost his taste for them that night. Glowering from under his bushy eyebrows, and fingering his beard as if suspicious that somewhat might have happened to it whilst he slept, he muttered, "We'll just have to have our fishing contest another time." '

The boy stopped to adjust the blanket around his little brother, then looked up again. ' "Oh, no, Master Dwarf, we won't!" cried the elf. "What d'you mean, Master Elf?" the dwarf growled.' The boy stopped to grin.

' "Why, you see, Master Dwarf," chuckled the elf, "I've already won the contest! You see, I've caught the biggest fish of all! Just as easy as one-two-three!" '