June 1429 SR (Shire Reckoning)

The party of hobbits rode away from Edoras, waving to the King and Queen as they made their way south. The Queen was visible for a long time in her vivid blue dress, leaning against Eomer's broad chest. They had spent a happy few days at the Golden Hall, eating huge meals and drinking vast amounts of mead. Eomer was constantly amazed at the quantities which the hobbits could put away. He was still ruefully rubbing his head and marvelling at their resiliance. No wonder they had borne up so well during the Ring War, he thought.

       A contingent of knights travelled with them as far as the Mering Stream which marked the border with Gondor. There were few Orcs left now in the wild but as Rosie and baby Pippin were travelling with them it was deemed wise to have an escort. Merry and Pippin were teasing the Captain of the Guard, engaging him in their usual banter.

       "Leave the poor man alone", Sam grumbled good naturedly.

       "Yes, Mr. Mayor, sir!" Pippin cried, bowing exaggeratedly to Sam. Merry chortled at Sam's blush.

       "Don't look like that, Sam. You are the Mayor after all.....................and very Mayoral you look, I must say!"

       Rosie rumaged in her pack. "There's a tea towel in here somewhere," she muttered.

       "Not the tea towel, " cried Pip in mock terror. Rosie was mistress of the art of flicking a tea towel with devastating accuracy. "My ear hasn't recovered from the last time!" He ducked behind his cousin. "Save me, Merry!"

       "Pip, you idiot!" said a laughing voice to Sam's right. The gardener turned and gazed fondly at the fifth member of the party. He still marvelled at the change in his beloved friend and master in the last eighteen months, although it had not been achieved without great suffering. He felt his eyes fill with tears as he remembered those nightmare months when Frodo sank deeper into despair and hovered on the brink of death, but he shook himself quickly. He would not think of it, not now, not here. It was over and done, and Frodo was here with them, riding his pony alongside Sam and laughing at Pippin's antics.

       "Don't let her use the tea towel, Frodo!"

       "It would serve you right if she did. You shouldn't tease poor Sam."

       "Isn't it time for second breakfast? I'm so...oo....ooo hungry!"

       "You're always hungry. Still, I suppose we could stop for a snack, before Pip falls off his pony for want of a morsel!"

        The escort, well-warned about hobbit mealtimes, halted. Everyone dismounted to give the horses and ponies a chance to frisk in the sunshine. Rosie sat comfortably on a flat rock, draped her shawl round her shoulders and discreetly fed the baby.

       "He's living up to his name. Bawls till he's fed and already catching on to second breakfast and elevenses!" Frodo chuckled, kissing Rosie's curls and handing her some sandwiches. She looked up and laughed.

       "He is that. Never known one this greedy! Glad he's still toothless or I'd be in trouble!" She took a mouthful of cool ale. "You're not supposed to be waiting on me, remember?"

       "Why not? You looked after me for long enough, Rosie Gamgee, and now it's your turn. I wonder what the other little ones are up to?"

       "Driving Tom and Marigold to happy distraction, I expect." She grinned impishly at Frodo. "Not to mention Stella and Di. I wonder why they wouldn't come to Gondor? You'd think they'd want to see the world's greatest city."

       Frodo bit into a sandwich and looked thoughtful. "They're typical hobbits, I'm afraid - no sense of adventure. You're most unusual, Rose. Most hobbits, especially hobbit women, never move away from their own village, never mind journey half way across Middle-earth - and with a baby in tow!" He laughed. "I know Diamond is a Took but it's not the adventurous branch of the family. And she and Stella are very close - they'll be quite happy without Merry and Pip for six months."

       "Reckon she and Stel might find life nice and peaceful for six months. They certainly won't have problems with an empty larder, that's for sure!"

        "You are a very wicked girl, Rosie!" Frodo held the ale while she winded the baby. Little Pip obliged with a huge burp, dribbled onto his mother's shoulder and waved a small fist at his uncle, who tutted and wiped the dribble with his handkerchief.

       "Tsk! Messy Pip! Messy, messy!"

       Sam beamed as he watched his two dearest laughing together. He felt light-hearted and joyful, all the worry of two years previously now fallen away. It had been a terrible time watching Frodo sinking, constantly keeping watch, hiding knives, and then nursing him through a deadly illness for weeks. Sam had prayed to anyone and everyone for a miracle, and one had been granted. His dear master had been re-born and his progress had been steady since. Merry followed Sam's gaze and smiled.

       "He's looking well, Sam. Better than I can remember - better than any time since  ................"  His voice tailed off and he looked quite solemn, an unusual thing for Merry.

       "Thank Elbereth! Never thought I'd see him so strong again. There were times when..............." He faltered and choked. Even now there were times when those awful days seemed too close and too real. Merry patted him comfortingly and he recovered himself. "Just .........sometimes those memories hurt like it really happened............... But it didn't, did it? I'm just being silly old Sam again, remembering the worst." He walked over and put his arm round his master's shoulders, fierce affection welling inside him at the sensation of warmth and strength in Frodo's slim frame.

       "What's wrong, Sam?"

       "Nothing, me dear. It's just lovely to see you so happy and well. Are you alright?" He scanned the fine features anxiously for signs of weariness.

       "I'm fine, Sam. Look at this baby - what a little piggy! And he spat curdled milk at me!"

       Sam laughed and lifted the baby to his shoulder. "Naughty! Spitting your mum's good milk all over Uncle Frodo! Disgraceful! Come here and give your poor mum five minutes peace." Pip gurgled, burped again, and dribbled some more over his father's weskit. "Lovely! Now you've got me too! Why don't you do it to Uncle Pippin?"

       "Do what to Uncle Pippin?" asked an aggrieved voice. "You leave my little namesake alone. He just likes his food, sensible lad."

       "Come on," said Frodo, packing up the rest of the food. "We won't reach Minas Tirith for another month if we sit here like this!"

                                                            ***********************

       Their progress towards Minas Tirith was a leisurely one. At the border the Rohan escort was relieved by a large number of Gondorian soldiers and some of the White Company of Ithilien, led by Beregond. He had begged for the honour and Faramir had been more than happy to grant it. Pippin was overjoyed to see his friend again, and they talked non-stop for a long time. Beregond knew Merry well too, but the Ring-bearer and Samwise were more of a mystery. In the weeks after the destruction of the Ring there had been so much going on, and Frodo had been ill, and a little strange, and Sam had been so busy caring for his master that it was difficult to get close to either of them. Now he hoped he would have the chance to spend some time with them. Pippin and Merry spoke of their cousin with such deep affection that he was eager to see the charismatic character they knew. He had heard that Frodo had been near to death and he marvelled at the resiliance of this small hobbit, who looked more like an Elf. There were tiny flecks of grey in Frodo's dark curls now, but he was no longer hunched and frail, his cheeks had a little colour and he laughed a great deal.

       "Master Baggins, may I ride with you and Samwise?"

       "Of course, it would be a pleasure. And please call me Frodo. No need for such formality, I'm sure."

       "Frodo, then. This is your first visit to Minas Tirith in ten years? You will see many changes. The lower levels have been re-built and the great gates have been replaced, thanks to Master Gimli and his friends. The White Tree flourishes in the palace courtyard and flowers bloom everywhere - thanks largely to your good friend Legolas. The city looks like a huge flower bed in summer."

       "Good! Flowers are the best thing to beautify anywhere," said Sam approvingly. "How is Faramir?"

       "Yes, how is he? And Eowyn and the children?" Frodo added.

       "They bloom like Ithilien itself. The children grow rapidly - little Elboron is almost nine, although he is known to everyone as Boromir, Finduilas is four, and the new baby is much of an age with little Pip there. Eowyn is lovely and brings my lord greater happiness with every passing day."

       "What of the King and Queen?"

       "The King is so excited by your visit he can hardly contain himself! He has been planning and fussing and driving my lord and the Queen mad for months!" Beregond laughed. "Their little ones grow apace too. Eldarion is seven, Gilraen three and their new baby is the same age as Faramir's. No doubt all the ladies will be comparing offspring and passing the babies around for inspection!"

       "Faramir and the King will need to work a little harder to bring the numbers up to Sam's family!" Frodo chuckled, as Sam blushed. "Little Pip is the fifth member of the family, although we have left the others behind this time, for which Gondor should be grateful, eh, Sam?"

       Sam laughed. "Aye. Little Ellie would terrify any number of soldiers and they could wreak more havoc than the siege caused. Be thankful, or the White Tower might not still be standing at the end of our visit!"

       There had been much pouting and sulking when the children found out they were not to go to Gondor. Elanor stamped and cried and tried all her pretty tricks to persuade them to take her, but all three adults were firm. The King would be coming north soon and they would all meet him then. The journey to Minas Tirith was too long and arduous for very small children, so they must stay and help Aunt Mari, Uncle Tom and Aunts Stella and Di. Frodo-lad, as placid as his father, was philosophical, and Merry too young to care,but the two girls were very indignant. They did their best to work on Uncle Frodo but, to their disgust, he was in league with their parents.

       "Elanor. What a pretty name, Sam," said Beregond. "I've heard Legolas mention it."

       "Aye, she's named for the little golden star-flower of Lothlorien. Frodo's idea. I was too excited and couldn't think what to call her but I asked and as soon as he said it I knew it was just right. She's tiny and golden and sparkly, isn't she, lass?" he said to Rosie.

       "And the apple of her dad's eye - not that you'd realised that," she grinned. "Yes, she's a pretty child, although I try not to tell her too often because I wouldn't like her to grow into a conceited little madam."

       "She takes after her mum, thankfully," said Sam with a smile. Frodo cuffed him lightly.

       "She takes after you too, you silly hobbit!" He turned to Beregond. "She has the best of both of them - they all do! My namesake is a charming lad, as placid as his dad and always smiling. They all look after me so well, even the little ones, and Ellie fusses over me like an old gammer. I really am a most spoilt hobbit." His blue eyes sparkled as he gazed at Rosie and Sam, and Rosie blinked away a tear.

        Beregond smiled broadly. "No more than you deserve, I'm sure, Frodo. You inspire affection in everyone who meets you. The King can hardly contain his excitement at your impending arrival and my lord Faramir is practically bouncing at the prospect of seeing you again! Few people can inspire such feelings."

       "Quite right, my lord," said Rosie, laughing now at Frodo's expression. He was looking somewhat nonplussed. "Been telling him that for years but the stubborn hobbit thinks I'm joking."

       "Well...............er......................in that case I suppose I'd better start believing you, Rose."

       "You do that. Just because you're Frodo Baggins doesn't mean you're necessarily safe from the dreaded tea towel, you know!"

                                                       **********************

         Progress continued down the West Road. Frodo felt incredibly safe on this journey, surrounded by Gondorian soldiers. Although there were still some orcs in the countryside, they were few and far between these days. The armies of Rohan and Gondor were merciless in their pursuit of the creatures and there were few places in which they could find refuge. The countryside lay undisturbed on either side of the roadway and the drums of the Wild Men were silent in the Forest of Druadan as the trees slumbered in the summer heat haze. In the distance the sky above the looming Ephel Duath was blue and clear.

        Frodo was determined not to avoid looking towards Mordor. It was virtually impossible to be in Minas Tirith and not look at Mordor, after all, and trying to do so seemed silly. The great swags of cloud which had lowered over the Black Land were gone. Beregond had been into the Plain of Gorgoroth several times and said that flowers were beginning to take root in the pumice and volcanic rock. Sam had been unsurprised; Nature found a way in any environment eventually, and it was pleasant to think of that tainted land being covered with green leaves and little wild flowers. The Towers of Minas Morgul and Cirith Ungol had been thrown down as the King commanded, and the Dark Lord's fortress had fallen when Mount Doom exploded. The top two thirds of the mountain were no more, and nothing had been heard from it since.

       They were here to celebrate Ring-Day, or Cormare, as it was known in Gondor, and this public holiday took place on Frodo's birthday, September 22nd. It seemed strange to think of his birthday being celebrated in a far-away land, and Frodo was more than slightly abashed by the fuss, but Aragorn had begged them to come. In the end Frodo did not have the heart to turn him down, and as their journey progressed he found himself increasingly looking forward to it.He longed to see Aragorn, Arwen, Faramir, Eowyn and Beregond again, and Legolas and Gimli would also be there, not to mention Lord Elrond's sons Elladan and Elrohir. He had grown fond of the twins during their time in Rivendell, and they had treated him very graciously. He was sorry he would not see Lord Elrond again, for he had sailed to the West with Galadriel and dear Bilbo, and Gandalf. He really wished that Gandalf could be here now, but he was sure the wise and kindly friend knew of their journey and would be with them in spirit. Gandalf, who had turned out to be so much more than an old man who did tricks with fire; one of the immortals sent by the Valar to assist Middle-earth in its darkest time. With the destruction of the Ring, Gandalf's task was accomplished and his time in Middle-earth was over. Frodo sighed. He missed the old wizard more than he had thought possible. He brightened again at the prospect of the joyful reunion ahead, and urged his pony forward to catch up with the rest of the party.

        Rosie was fascinated by everything. She had never been further than Michel Delving in her life before this journey, and here she was, gazing at the towering slopes of Mount Mindolluin as they passed the Grey Wood on the right, the road turning gently to wind round the base of this, the greatest city in Middle Earth. Rosie had heard so much about Minas Tirith and seen pictures in Frodo's books, but nothing prepared her for her first sight of the White City. She halted her pony and let her gaze linger over the seven levels. Above even the highest level the Tower of Ecthelion rose to pierce the sky, the banners of the White Tree flapping and dancing against the azure blue.

        "Oh my word, Rosie Gamgee! You're really here!" she murmured to herself.

       "And so am I," Frodo added. "And I don't believe it either!" He grinned at Rosie. "Thanks to you and Sam............."

       "Now, now, trying to make me go all soppy! It won't work, you daft thing!" she said, but her eyes told a different story.

      They arrived at the Great Gates and paused to admire the beautiful workmanship of the gleaming mithril. A party of dwarves were working on a large stone pillar near the gate, their voices a low rumble. Suddenly a roar rang out.

       "Frodo Baggins! By all that's wonderful!"

       Casements opened as curious residents peered out to see what was happening. The name Baggins triggered lots of excited murmuring, causing Frodo some embarrassment, but this was swept away as he saw the owner of the voice.

       "Gimli!"

       "A running dwarf! Now that's something you don't see very often," Merry chuckled.

       Frodo was pulled from his pony and clasped in a tight hug by the stocky dwarf.

       "Ooof! Gimli, I do need to breathe, you know!" he laughed, trying to return the hug and being almost suffocated by the bristling beard.

       "My dear, dear hobbit! I can't tell you how wonderful it is to see you again." He held Frodo at arm's length to study him, then pulled him close for another massive hug.

       "Be careful with him, Master Dwarf," Rosie chided. "We don't want crushed ribs, do we?"

       Gimli helped her down and kissed her hand with a flourish which made her blush and smack him playfully over the head.

       "Every time I meet you, my lady Rose, my head rings. It must be love!" he declared.

       "Fool of a dwarf!" said Pippin, giggling. He rushed to embrace his friend, and soon Gimli was covered with laughing hobbits. When he finally surfaced, he looked around and tutted under his breath in mock vexation.

       "Where's that wretched pointy-ear? Never around when he's needed, typical Elf-Prince!" He took a deep breath. "Legolas! Legolas!"

       A few moments later the blond Prince of Mirkwood appeared, dressed in soft green and grey. He cried out joyfully when he saw the hobbits surrounding Gimli, and rushed over to embrace them all.

       "My dear friends! Oh! it is wonderful to have you all here. The Fellowship almost all reunited!" He knelt and enfolded them all, Gimli included, and the dwarf did not protest.

       Eventually Arod was found and Legolas helped the hobbits onto their ponies. He leapt up on Arod and Gimli struggled up behind with much grumbling for the journey up towards the Citadel.

       The gates on the other levels were not directly above the Great Gates but to the north or south, and the path wound ever upwards. As they rode, people peered out and recognised them, and the murmur grew. Then the trumpets rang out from the top of the Tower, to announce their arrival to everyone.

      "The Pheriannath! They have come! The Ring-bearer is here!"

       "Shall I put my cloak over my head?" Frodo enquired, blushing at the attention. He had sometimes felt ignored in the Shire, but all this adulation was rather disconcerting. "Pip, can't you do something ridiculous and distract them?"

       "Why me?" Pippin spluttered, glancing at the others.

       "Well you usually manage to!" Frodo retorted, and the party fell about in amusement at Pippin's expression.

       The baby woke at this point, and wailed fretfully. Rosie laughed as she lifted him a little and gave him a finger to suck.

       "See - my namesake has done the job for me, although how you think he'll fall for the finger trick I don't know!"

       "When you have as many children as me, Peregrin Took, you'll find out!" Rosie snorted. Pippin stuck his tongue out at her and she whipped out the tea towel and flicked it lightly in his direction with a triumphant air.

       "Ow! She's picking on me again, Frodo!

       "Never question a woman's maternal abilities, silly Took! I have no sympathy with you!"

       Pip stuck his nose in the air. "Hmmph! there's gratitude, Frodo Baggins! I gave you half a case of Old Winyard's on my last birthday and you still aren't moved to defend me from the evil mistress of the tea towel!" He pouted pathetically at Merry. "You'll help me, won't you, Merry?"

       Sam shrugged helplessly at Legolas and gave him a sheepish grin. "They do this all the time. I just try and ignore 'em. Rosie's the stern disciplinarian in the family so I let her deal with Pippin."

       "She's very good at it!" said the Elf admiringly. It was a joyful thing to see them all in such a relaxed mood. He had visited the Shire several times, and he and Gimli were there during the darkest hours of Frodo's illness, supporting their friends and helping to nurse the dying Ring-bearer. They had all been too tense and fraught to joke and laugh with each other. To see them so happy and teasing warmed his heart and he began to sing. Gimli harrumphed behind him.

       "Now you've done it! The Elf has decided to sing! I swear he only has one song, and I've heard it that many times I know all the blasted words!"

       Legolas laughed and took the joke in good part. "Why, Gimli," he said, half turning in the saddle and batting his eyelashes at his friend, "I thought you liked my singing!"

       "I like it better when I've a mug of ale in my hand."

       "Ale renders you deaf?" enquired Merry. "Now I find my sight is affected if I drink too much, but not my hearing."

       Pippin smirked. "It is when someone tells you it's your round!"

       "Rosie!" Merry called. "Can I borrow that tea towel?"

                                                         *********************

       In the King's apartments, Aragorn was trying to do fifteen different things at once. When he heard the trumpets he jumped up and made for the door but was called back instantly.

       "Estel! You are not going to meet our guests barefoot! Really! Must I keep reminding you, it's hobbits who go about unshod, not kings of Gondor!" Arwen clicked her tongue and hauled her husband back to his chair, kissing him lightly on the nose as she did so. His servant, trying hard not to laugh, helped him on with his boots, and the King grinned boyishly at his beloved wife.

       "I'm sorry, my love. I'm just so eager to see them all again......................especially dear Frodo............... ....when those letters arrived from Sam and Pippin to say he was dying........................I...............feared I would never see him again.........." He blinked furiously. "He has suffered so much in the years since we last met, and it seems so unfair. Such an innocent little creature when I first saw him." He swallowed the lump which rose in his throat.

       Arwen kissed her husband gently. "And now he is well, and here with us for this special celebration! It is a time for joy, Estel my dear, not for mourning." He squeezed her hand in gratitude and kissed her fingers gently.

       "Papa! Papa! The trumpets have sounded! They're here! They're here!" The peaceful interlude was broken by little Eldarion rushing in, beside himself with excitement. He knew Merry and Pippin but he was going to meet his heroes Frodo and Samwise, and he was hopping from foot to foot in impatience.

       Aragorn laughed. "You are as bad as me. It will take some time for them to arrive here in the Citadel. Is your sister ready?"

       "Eldarion! Your hair looks like a bird's nest!" said his mother reprovingly. "Back to your nurse! We are not moving until your hair is neatly brushed."

       The child wriggled in exasperation but knew better than to disobey his mother. He ran back to the nursery, muttering that he doubted the Ring-bearer bothered about hair brushing on the way to Mount Doom.

       "Those were exceptional circumstances!" Aragorn called after him. "I'm sure Frodo has brushed his hair today - foot hair included!"

       Arwen giggled. "Do hobbits really brush their foot hair?"

       "Of course they do, my love. Bilbo had a set of little brushes designed for the job, and I'm sure Frodo does too."

       Eldarion charged back into the room with his little sister in tow. She was a model of tidiness and decorum next to her brother, and was even attempting to pick fluff from his sleeve. When Arwen was satisfied with her family's appearance they filed into the corridor, where they were joined by Faramir, Eowyn, little Boromir and Finduilas. Eowyn was still making adjustments to her menfolk, and rolled her eyes conspiratorially at the Queen.

       "Strange how it is never the girls who need tidying," she murmured. "They have no doubt been primping for hours. I've already confiscated two pet mice from Boromir's pocket and now...........," she rummaged in another pocket while her son squirmed, ".............ahah! What do we have here? A frog! Really, Bobo, must you always run around with your pockets full of little creatures?" She deposited the frog in her son's hand. "Go and release the poor thing where you found it. Now!" she added as he opened his mouth to protest.

       Boromir ran off, grumbling that other mothers were afraid of such things and did not attempt to search their children for fear of what they might find.

       On the steps they gathered in an orderly group. This was not an official reception for dignitaries but a reunion of devoted friends. Aragorn looked around and smiled contentedly at his nearest and dearest. Arwen, lovely as always in a robe of rich crimson, Eowyn in green. The children were strong and healthy, his own dark haired while Faramir's had their parents' rich red-gold tresses. His eyes met Faramir's and both men grinned at their shared thought: I can't believe they are mine.

                                                            *****************

       At the gate into the seventh level they dismounted; not even Shadowfax had been allowed into the Citadel. The ponies and Arod were led off to the splendid stables, where they found as much luxury and comfort as their riders. The hobbits gazed around, awed by their surroundings. As they entered, the trumpets rang out once more, and they found themselves in the courtyard. The fountains splashed and showered sparkling water drops into the air, over the lower branches of the White Tree, which was now a towering beauty. It flourished as the realm had flourished, its pale leaves and white blossoms reminder of Telperion, one of the Two Trees of Valinor. It was dizzying to look up and try to see the top of the White Tower from here, at its base. The musical sound of falling water droplets filled the air.

       "My beloved friends!" cried the King, unable to contain himself any longer. He ran down the steps and caught Frodo up in his arms. "I told you once before - you bow to no-one, my dear Frodo," he said, and Frodo found himself in a bear-hug of royal proportions.

       "Your majesty.............,," he began but Aragorn cut him short.

       "Use my name, I beg you. No formality among friends."

       "Aragorn...................it is so good to see you again." He flung his arms round the King's neck and hugged him back until they were both quite breathless. When he was finally released Faramir swept him up and both men stood with their arms around the hobbit, too overwhelmed to speak for several minutes. Neither man had ever thought to see Frodo Baggins in Middle-earth again; they had been sure he would depart to the West with Bilbo and Gandalf, and when he remained they knew he was too weak and damaged to travel. The news of his illness had filled them both with grief, which was only equalled by their joy and relief at the news of his remarkable recovery.

       The others had also broken ranks and everyone was hugging everyone else. Rosie was proudly introduced by Sam and was surprised to find herself embraced by the King of Gondor while she was attempting to curtsey. He peeped at the baby in her arms and called the two women forward to admire him. Neither had ever seen a hobbit baby and both had been intrigued about them. Eowyn tickled the furry feet and baby Pip rewarded her with a gummy smile.

       "He's adorable! Oh what a sweet little thing!

       The children were suddenly overcome with shyness and even the boys had to be pushed forward for introduction. Frodo was quite mortified to find the young heir to the throne of Gondor kneeling to him. He raised the child hastily and they studied each other. Eldarion had been told that the Ring-bearer was small and fragile due to the damage of the Ring. He knew Merry and Pippin and had been told that they were more typical of hobbits in builld, although they were much taller.

       Frodo saw a tall lad with dark hair and his father's grey eyes. Even at such a young age he had a gravity which was almost eerie. There was not much difference in their height, and the young prince gazed earnestly at the hobbit, their hands still clasped. Young Boromir joined them, and Frodo was deeply moved at the sight of these two boys. Boromir was, so he had heard, a mischievous child but he was reigning in his natural impetuousness and obviously on his best behaviour. He was able to look Frodo in the eye; in six months he would be taller. Frodo looked into his eyes and was thankful that he favoured his father, not his uncle in character.

       "Well?" said Frodo, smiling. "Do I pass the inspection?"

       The two boys glanced at each other and nodded. They held out their hands to Sam, who looked a jolly sort. Sam came forward and suddenly the boys broke the formal pose and embraced the two hobbits with genuine affection. The little girls were eager to join in and soon Frodo and Sam were covered in giggling children.

       "Quite the home from home, eh Sam?"

       "I guess children are much the same , whether they be princes or hobbits!"

       "Come!" cried the King. "Inside, my friends, where we can eat and talk and sit in comfort!"

       "Ahah!" cried Pippin. "Did someone mention food?"

                                                  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*