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The Road to Edoras  by Dreamflower

Well, it's been a long hiatus (eleven months, actually) and I do apologize to the Gentle Readers for making them wait so long.  But for some reason, my muses did *not* want to tell me what happened next--they kept insisting on skipping over to the ending.  So I've been having to write more-or-less backwards.  It has taken me this long to get back to where I left off.

The upside is, I will now be able to finish without too many more delays (unless caused by RL--we are in the process of selling a house and then moving).  I'm planning to update at least once a week from here on out, and perhaps twice a week if I can manage it.

Thanks for your patience!

DF

CHAPTER 33

Beorhstan spent the rest of the afternoon in somewhat of a daze, watching the holbytlan--or hobbits, as they called themselves--bustling about their various tasks, and talking to their friends and comrades. Even the Elf was not so interesting to him as the small people with their long clever fingers and their quiet way of moving about, so at odds with the chattering of their voices.

They seemed so cheerful and friendly, and he wondered once more in amazement at what their kin-folk had accomplished during the War.

As he sat staring at Mosco and the Banks brothers, who were busy going through the stores Beorhstan had brought with him, he shook his head. “How?”

“How what, lad?” said a pleasantly gruff voice at his elbow.

He turned to see Master Gimli standing next to him.

“They seem so peaceable, Master Gimli, and so friendly and innocent. I find it so hard to understand how the four who aided us during the War were able to do so. Are they so different than these?”

Gimli chuckled and shook his head. “Yes and no. Frodo, Merry and Pippin are of the noblest blood in the Shire, and it’s said among them that the Tooks--which is the name of that family--are strange and different. But Sam Gamgee has not a drop of that blood. And up until they left the Shire, all four of them had led a life just as peaceable, and they were just as friendly and innocent. But look over yonder at Master Fredegar--he did not leave the Shire, yet he led a band of rebels to fight against the Ruffians that Saruman had sent to the Shire.”

Beorhstan stared at Freddy, who with Berilac, was talking to Targon. “He doesn’t seem fierce enough to be a warrior,” he said.

Gimli chuckled and shook his head. “My father told me that Gandalf had once described old Bilbo as ‘fierce as a dragon in a pinch’. I remember how surprised I was when I finally met the old fellow: polite, well-mannered and soft-spoken, and a sense of humor most often turned upon himself. Yet, though he freely confesses to the sort of utter terror that most of those of us who *are* warriors will refuse to admit that we feel, his courage never faltered. He used his wits to protect my father and the other Dwarves whom he considered his friends. That, I think, is the key to hobbit courage--they do not seek a fight, they do not, as a rule even seek thrills or adventures--indeed, that is considered most disreputable in their society--they do not even consider themselves especially brave. But threaten that which they love, and there is nothing they will not attempt in order to protect it. And once they set forth on such a course of action, nothing will deter them from accomplishing it, or dying in the process.”

“Our tales,” said the Man, “describe them as a mischievous little folk, who sing like birds, and can disappear at will.”

Now Gimli laughed heartily. “Indeed, they have very pleasant singing voices--you should hear young Pippin sing some time! Very nearly as good as an Elf! As for disappearing at will, only Master Bilbo ever did that, and it is not a thing that will ever be repeated.” For a moment, Gimli’s brows drew down, remembering all the trouble that had come from that little trinket. On the other hand It had saved his father’s life. He shook the confusing thoughts away. “But they do know how to vanish from sight in a twinkling, if there is nothing more than a bit of long grass to hide in.”

Beorhstan gestured towards the small group of prisoners, well-guarded by Borondir. “What about those four? How are they so different?”

“Alas,” said Gimli, shaking his head sadly, “every race has a few who are poor representatives. Hobbits have fewer than most. But those four seem to be afflicted with both stupidity and greed--and so they caused not a little trouble in the Shire. One of the dilemmas that poor Captains Targon and É othain had to face was that the most severe punishment Shire hobbits have is banishment. This meant that those four would have been free to take their trouble-making elsewhere.”

At that moment, Legolas joined them, and he and Gimli began to regale Beorhstan with stories of their friends among the hobbits.

Laughing, Legolas told of the night he had assisted Pippin, Merry and Bergil to play pranks upon the whole of Brandy Hall.*

Gimli shook his head. “Fool Elf! You are as bad as those two! And you risked getting poor young Bergil into trouble!”

The Elf just shrugged. “It seemed like the thing to do at the time.” There was a glint of amusement in the ancient eyes that startled Beorhstan. What odd creatures he had fallen in with here. A being thousands of years old, playing pranks as though he were a young boy!

The afternoon passed, as they chatted, joined after a while by Fredegar, Mosco and Jolly, while Rolly and Denny were seeing to the evening meal. The hobbits had decided to call it that, as it wasn’t tea, and couldn’t properly be called supper or dinner. Beorhstan listened in amazement to a rather long and involved discussion as to whether it was closer to supper or dinner. Somehow he could not follow the subtleties of the differences they were making. Six meals a day! And yet they were so small!

“Where is Berilac?” asked Legolas, though he quirked an eyebrow in amusement as he asked.

“Mistress Poppy and Miss Viola are going through all their store of healing herbs and supplies before we go on the road once more,” said Freddy, “and Beri thought perhaps he could help them with the inventory.” He grinned.

All of them shared a hearty laugh. Obviously, Berilac was taking the chance to spend time with the pretty little apprentice.

________________________________________________

Cado sat silently, eyeing his brother and Dago, who were equally silent. Clovis kept casting looks of resentment in the direction of the Elf, but Dago’s looks in the same direction were filled with fear. They had not spoken at all to Cado, or to Clodio, since they had been returned. Indeed, Clovis was making a point of not looking at his brother or father at all.

Cado tried to swallow down the lump of misery that kept trying to rise up and overwhelm him. He had been angry and resentful himself on this trip, and he had been unhappy enough at their plight. But this was the first time he really felt like huddling up and weeping--yet he knew he could not even give himself that much comfort, for he had no privacy at all, and he was certainly not about to allow his brother or Bracegirdle the chance to scorn him for his tears. He risked a worried glance at his father. Clodio looked just as miserable as himself. There was no comfort there--Clodio had never been the sort of father who embraced his children or praised them. Yet at least he had always taken up for his sons, even when they had done some singularly stupid things.

And for the first time, Cado found himself missing his mother. He swallowed the sob that threatened to burst forth. He had seldom given her much thought since he entered his tweens, save to ignore any of her mild protests at her sons’ behavior. But he remembered as a small lad how she had always had hugs for her sons, until her husband rebuked her for “spoiling” them. And he suddenly clearly remembered the first time he and Clovis had defied her, and their father had amusedly supported them against her, with the old saying “Lads will be lads.”

They had been paying one of their infrequent visits to Whitwell. Cado had only been about five or six, and Clovis was about eight. Their little cousin Pippin was still only a  faunt

Aunt Eglantine had given the children a picnic luncheon, to take outside in the front garden, so that the adults could enjoy a quiet visit together. The children had eaten their fill mostly, though Merry (who was also visiting at the time) and Pippin’s sisters were still filling up their corners, Pippin had run off to play with his favorite toy: a gift from Frodo Baggins of a wooden duck. It was pulled by a string, and had wheels that were deliberately uneven, so that it wobbled back and forth as though the duck were waddling. The wheels also turned a little mechanism that made the duck’s beak open and close in a rather annoying clatter. He was walking back and forth, pulling it along behind him, and turning to look at it and laugh in glee.

After watching Pippin for a few minutes, Clovis had gone over and snatched the toy away from him, holding it high in the air over his head.

Pippin let out a shriek of frustration that instantly drew the attention of Merry and his sisters. Merry and Pearl both yelled “Give it back to him!” at almost the same moment, and Merry made as if to charge to Pippin’s rescue. But Pearl grabbed him by both arms and would not let go. Cado supposed now that even then Pearl knew what kind of reprisals Merry might inflict on Pippin’s behalf.

Crying, Pippin had tried to reach his toy, and Clovis pretended that he would give it to him, but just as Pippin reached for it he snatched it up and threw it in Cado’s direction. Startled, Cado barely managed to catch it, and Pippin turned, and ran in his direction. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Pimpernel and Pervinca dashing for the house, and then his attention was on Pippin once more, as the faunt had almost reached him. His chubby little hands were stretched out, and he was screaming “Mine!”

Clovis reached his arms up, so just as Pippin reached him, Cado drew back and threw it once more in his brother’s direction. Clovis laughed at the frustrated expression on Pippin’s face when he caught the toy by one of its wheels.

Merry was yelling at Pearl to let go of him, and Pearl was still yelling at Clovis to give Pippin’s toy back. Pippin, determined, had run back to Clovis, who once more held it up out of his reach.

Just then, Aunt Eglantine and their mother had come out, with Pimpernel and Pervinca right behind them.

“Clovis!” their mother had called. “Give it back to your cousin, right now!”

Clovis had stopped, for an instant, and he turned his eyes on his mother. For a second he looked dismayed, and then he grinned at her, and very deliberately threw the toy back to his brother.

But Cado was not paying attention, and the toy flew right over his head, to land several feet away in a dismal smash.

Pippin began to shriek in earnest now, for it was clearly broken beyond repair. Eglantine went over and picked up her little lad, giving both Clovis and Cado very dirty looks.

In the meantime, Paladin and Clodio had also come out, and were standing near the door.

Beryl’s face was white with fury. “Clovis! Cado! Come here right now!” She pointed to the ground in front of her, and Cado moved reluctantly towards her. But Clovis had stayed where he was, still giving her a cocky grin. Before she could say anything, Clodio had moved to her side, and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Now, now, Beryl! They were only playing! Lads will be lads, after all.”

As Cado watched, his mother’s face first went even whiter than it already was, and then it flushed with embarrassment. Her eyes were filled with an expression Cado had never seen before, but that he now realized was a deep hurt, and she hung her head. “Very well, husband. I shall leave it to you to deal with,” she had said in a singularly flat voice. And she had followed Eglantine back into the house. Aunt Eglantine was still trying to sooth her distraught son.

Cado had stared after her, puzzled. For a moment he thought of running after her and giving her a hug and apologizing, but then he dismissed the thought when his father spoke his name.

Their father had given them a half-hearted lecture on remembering that “babies” were too young to understand such games. Paladin had taken over Pearl’s grip on Merry’s arm--he was still glaring at them with an expression of loathing--and shepherded Merry and the lasses back inside.

The atmosphere surrounding their visit had turned decidedly chilly. It was obvious that Uncle Paladin and Aunt Eglantine were angry, but their father only seemed amused. For some reason they had not seen Merry again, and the visit was cut short--they had planned to stay over, but instead left after a rather uncomfortable tea.

And their mother had rarely reprimanded them after that.

Cado sighed. It was no wonder their mother had washed her hands of the lot of them. He hoped she might be a little more happy now, staying with Aunt Eglantine and Uncle Paladin. She deserved a little happiness. He supposed that his parents had at some time been happy enough--he knew they were fond of one another in a quiet way. But his father was so proud. He did not ever want to admit that his sons could do anything really wrong. And Clodio also resented the Tooks--he felt that the Banks deserved to be much higher up in status than they were.

Perhaps, thought Cado, if he had not tried to be like Clovis, perhaps, if he had been a little nicer to his mother, he would not be in this situation now.

________________________________________________

All the company dined heartily on the meal prepared by Rolly and Denny: A thick stew of ham, vegetables and beans, and a huge dish of fried wild mushrooms, served with more of the bread Beorhstan had brought, and cheese as well.

Beorhstan was invited to share the tent of the Rohirrim for the night, and the next morning, after a hearty breakfast, the group broke camp and took to the road once more, as Beorhstan led them back to his family’s homestead.

Éothain summoned Leodwald to the front of the line. “Leodwald, “ he said, “I shall have a task for you. After we arrive at this farm, I want you to leave us--ride ahead to Edoras, as swiftly as you may, to explain to É omer King why we were delayed, and to let him know we are once more on the road.”

“Do you then wish me to return?” asked the Rider.

“Not unless my royal cousin wishes you to bring back a message of some sort. If the King has no task for you, then you are free to take leave and visit your family until we arrive at Edoras ourselves.”

Leodwald grinned. While he would be sorry to leave his comrades, and especially the holbytlan, he had not seen his wife and children in many months. It would be a welcome chance to spend time with them.

The weather was pleasant, though warm--they were travelling south and through high summer, after all--and they rode at leisurely pace. They broke briefly for luncheon, and Beorhstan was amused to hear the one called Rolly complaining that “a drink and a bite standing weren’t what he’d call a proper lunch.”

As they rode along in the afternoon sunshine, the hobbits began to sing. Beorhstan was delighted to listen to them sing: first a rollicking little song called “Nob o’ the Lea” and then several others that all of them seemed to know.

Then Berilac began to sing on his own, casting a smile in the direction of the little healer’s apprentice as he did so:

When I was a lad so free
I had no cares to worry me,
Save what to drink and when to dine,
On the banks of the Brandywine!
On the banks of the Brandywine!
Save what to drink and when to dine,
On the banks of the Brandywine!

Once I spied a lass so fair,
Plaiting violets in her hair,
Her eyes so bright, her cheeks so fine,
On the banks of the Brandywine!
On the banks of the Brandywine!
Her eyes so bright, her cheeks so fine,
On the banks of the Brandywine!

I asked her could I sit a while,
And she gave to me a winning smile,
Her heart was true, her heart was kind,
On the banks of the Brandywine!
On the banks of the Brandywine!
Her heart was true, her heart was kind,
On the banks of the Brandywine!

I looked at her and then I said
If she thought we two could wed,
She told me that she would be mine,
On the banks of the Brandywine!
On the banks of the Brandywine!
She told me that she would be mine,
On the banks of the Brandywine!

We sealed our troth with a kiss!
Her two lips, ah! They were bliss!
I never knew true love I’d find,
On the banks of the Brandywine!
On the banks of the Brandywine!
I never knew true love I’d find,
On the banks of the Brandywine!

I asked her father for her hand,
And on the shore we did stand--
And I was hers and she was mine,
On the banks of the Brandywine!
On the banks of the Brandywine!
And I was hers and she was mine,
On the banks of the Brandywine!

And now we are a happy three,
My sweet wife, my fauntling and me
In our smial with roses entwined,
On the banks of the Brandywine!
On the banks of the Brandywine!
In our smial with roses entwined,
On the banks of the Brandywine!

By the time he finished the song, the other hobbits were joining in the chorus. All except Viola, who was blushing fiery red.

It was mid-afternoon when they turned off the road and onto the lane leading to the homestead.

__________________________________

*Chapter 19 of my story "A New Reckoning" "A Little Bit of Fun"





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