72. Odds and Ends

Gimli eyed the mark on the tree, lifting his chin to check the strength and direction of the breeze, hefting his axe, testing the edge with a thumb. Then, in a smooth, quick motion, too fast to follow, his arm moved in a blur and the axe was quivering in the target, dead center. He gave a guttural cry of triumph, turning to the elf. 'There!' he said. 'I'd like to see you do better.' He strode to the tree and jerked free his axe, testing the blade again. He'd hone it razor sharp when they finished here.

Legolas lifted his bow to the ready, slowly reached for an arrow... and suddenly the arrow was no longer in his hand, but quivering in the target. The two strode forward, to find the arrow neatly dividing the cleft left by the axe. 'Shall we call it a draw?' the elf smiled.

'Nay, we'll move back five more paces,' the dwarf said.

'Why not make it ten?' the elf smiled.

The dwarf snorted. 'Ten it'll be!' he grunted.

At that moment, Carnelas came up to them, his usual smile missing. 'A messenger has come,' he said.

Legolas lifted an eyebrow. 'From Greenwood?' he said.

'No, from Prince Faramir,' the other wood elf said. 'It makes for sad reading.' He extended the message sheaf to Legolas, who held it low enough for Gimli to peruse the words as he read.

'Not just drought, but famine...' he murmured.

'And pestilence,' the dwarf said grimly. Unconsciously he fingered his axe blade once again, but these were enemies not so easily dispatched. 'Surely the wains from Rohan will have helped.' Reading on, he saw Faramir had ordered waggons of food to be shipped from Ithilien to Gondor, to travel by ship to the Shire by sea or by river, if possible.

'He seeks to pay an old debt,' Legolas said softly. 'One he can never fully repay, of course, but this would be a salve to his conscience. It rankled that Pippin would accept nothing for saving his life.' He looked to the dwarf. 'Old friend,' he said, 'We have shared the back of a horse upon more than one occasion. What say you to sharing the deck of a great ship?'

Gimli looked at him warily. He didn't think Legolas was talking about seeking Elvenhome, though he often surprised the look of sea-longing in the elf's eyes, when they travelled to Gondor and heard the cry of the gulls.

Legolas understood the look, and smiled back at the dwarf. 'We ought to accompany Prince Faramir's offering to the Shire,' he said. 'making sure it arrives safely.'

'Och, aye,' the dwarf said, repressing a shudder. He'd sailed upriver on a ship, on the way to save Minas Tirinth from the forces of the Dark Lord, and it was not one of his fondest memories. He solaced himself with the thought of seeing the young hobbits again, and playing the part of Father Yule, bearing a pack of food and presents for the celebration.

'Is there an answer?' Carnelas asked.

Legolas nodded, scanning the message once more, then folding it and shoving it into his belt. 'Yes,' he said. 'Tell the messenger to wait. We'll accompany him back to Cair Andros, and down to the White City with Ithilien's gift to the halflings.'

'Very well,' Carnelas said with a bow, and turned to take word to the Prince's messenger.

***

'Are you going to change your name?' Bergil asked idly, as they sipped their beer by the fireside in Bag End. It was just Bergil, Pippin, and Rose; all the rest were tucked up in bed with flannel-wrapped hot bricks, sleeping though it was early evening, gaining strength with every hour of cosseting and rest.

'What's that?' Pippin said.

'You know... you do look a little like him,' Bergil answered. 'Are we going to start calling you "Frodo"?'

'Frodo?' Pippin said, the light dawning.

Rose looked at Pippin searchingly, then nodded. 'You do at that,' she said. 'I can see the family resemblance.'

'Ah,' Pippin said. 'Only handsomer. And younger.'

'Well...' Rose said teasingly. 'Younger, at least.' She chuckled.

Pippin made a deep show of considering. Finally, he shook his head. 'No, it would not do, you can surely see that,' he said. At the others' questioning look, he said, 'Frodo is much too "Baggins" a name, not Tookish enough by a league. Think on it... how ridiculous "Thain Frodo" would sound.'

'Ah, I see your point,' Bergil said. 'Guess I'll just keep calling you Pippin, then.'

Pippin fixed him with a stern eye. 'That's Thain Peregrin to you,' he said severely. Bergil simply laughed and quaffed his beer.

Rose looked around the parlour and sighed. Neither she nor any of the girls had the strength to do what needed to be done. Even the lack of dust in the parlour distressed her, for it meant that the Thain had turned his hand to dusting, surely an occupation much too much beneath him.

Pippin followed her thoughts and smiled a secret smile.

***

Next day, a tapping was heard at the door and cheerful voices without. Bergil opened the door to a giggling gaggle of hobbit lasses who ducked past him, blushing, into Bag End. A smiling Diamond was just getting down from a coach, and Ferdibrand Took grinned from the driver's seat and touched the whip to his eyebrow in salute. 'I'll just put the ponies away, then,' he called, 'and be right with you!'

'What's this?' Bergil asked the Mistress of Tookland, whom he'd met briefly when the waggons had come into Tuckborough. He'd elected to drive one of the wains earmarked for the Great Smials, in hopes of seeing Pippin again, and then he'd walked to Hobbiton from there to see his hobbit family, though Pippin thought he'd gone back to Buckland with the rest. Truth be told, he'd started off with the wains, along the Stock Road, but had changed his mind, hopped down to speak to the grizzled sergeant, and gaining permission, started the hike to Hobbiton.

Diamond smiled up at the tall guardsman. 'A bit of cheer,' she said. 'You might want to roll up your sleeves and tackle the windows outside, there'll be plenty of dust flying about within.'

It was a pleasant, breezy day after several days of blessed rain. The hobbit lasses, tweens all, bustled about Bag End, dusting, scrubbing, washing, shining, laughing, singing. Long lines of laundry flapped in the breeze, the good smells of soap and beeswax pervaded the air, to be joined soon by the aroma of simmering stew, baking bread, and cooling apple tart.

After luncheon, Diamond tucked Mistress Rose back into her freshly made-up bed with a smile. 'You take a nap, now, whilst we finish.'

'How...? What...?' Rose stammered. In truth, she wasn't even sure what question to ask.

Diamond's smile broadened. 'I had nothing to do with it,' she said. 'It was all my wonderful husband's idea.'

'The Thain?' Rose said.

'Yes,' Diamond said fondly. 'He's a wonder.' She chuckled. 'He said he was afraid he'd have to sit on you to keep you abed, and that would hardly be seemly...' Rose joined in the laughter at the thought. '...so he sent me a message, told me what needed doing. He's a fine one for assigning work to others, you know.'

Rose shook a finger at her. 'He's the hardest working hobbit I know,' Rose said.

Diamond smoothed the coverlet. 'Funny, that's just what he said about you, Rose.'