Hobbiton market provided a delightfully bustling welcome as the group of Men, Elves, one Dwarf and three hobbits arrived. The stalls were crowded with hobbits making the most of the fine weather to browse and gossip. Countless pairs of eyes turned towards the group, some registering alarm but most smiling or a little over-awed. The visitors wandered round, Sam and Frodo making introductions, and very soon even the most nervous old gammers and children were edging closer. Aragorn paused at the haberdashers' stall to look at some bolts of cloth. The hobbit in charge of the stall bowed.

       "We have more material at our shop in Bywater, my lord."

       "This is superb quality. I was admiring the rich red wool there. It is so fine and beautifully woven."

       Frodo sidled up beside Aragorn. "For Arwen? That deep plummy red will look perfect."

       Faramir joined them, attracted by some exquisitely creamy white cloth. It had a border of deep gold and would look sublime on Eowyn.

       The Men described how tall their ladies were and the hobbit swiftly calculated how much cloth would be needed for cloaks. The Twins also bought a length in a very delicate green, for their grand-father. The cloth was swiftly wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. Aragorn haggled cheerfully with the stallholder - hobbits enjoyed arguing a little over prices - and allowed himself to be beaten, handing over the silver coins with a smile. He asked that all their purchases be sent to Bag End and Cotman Carter volunteered to deliver them on his way home.

       Legolas was at the potters' stall and bought a fine vase to take to his father. The Men joined him and Faramir spotted something which would make delightful presents for little Finduilas and Princess Gilraen. Hobbit-sized basins and ewers were perfect for the little girls and would look just right in their respective bedrooms.

       "Could we carry these all the way back to Gondor without breakages?" Aragorn wondered.

       Cando Potter smiled. "Bless you, my lord, I can wrap those so well they will not break, especially if you pack them among your clothes. If they are properly cushioned they'll survive the journey."

       The pottery and china items were packed in a box of straw and added to the items to be transported up the Hill.

       Tarondor and Halboron made various purchases at the woodcarver's stall and Gimli admired the jewellery and metalwork. Sam managed to steer the Dwarf away before he bought a tankard for himself, because a fine one was already wrapped and labelled as Sam's present to his friend.

       The road to Bywater was not empty - market day in Hobbiton always brought lots of hobbits flocking to buy and sell, and Bywater was always busy. The large group walked at a leisurely pace and soon arrived at the Ivy Bush, an inn famous for its food. It tended to be favoured by the older hobbits, and many old gaffers spent a good deal of their time and money in there. The younger, more lively lads from the district liked the 'Bush' well enough but preferred the Green Dragon both for its ale and the clientele. It was said that if you wanted a good dinner you went to the 'Bush' but if you were after the finest ale and the chance to sing and dance - on or around the tables - then the only place was the Dragon.

       They were hailed by Merry, who had arranged for two tables and benches large enough for Men and Elves to sit comfortably to be delivered to the inn - they would be transferred to the Party Field later. A hobbit-sized table was tucked between the two large ones, which were set up in a partially screened area.

       Pippin appeared with a half-pint and he and Beregond returned to the bar to fetch drinks for everyone.

       "Sammie!"

       "Ham! Hal!" Sam spun round at the voices and found himself hugged by his brothers. Both had arrived for the birthday party and were staying at the Ivy Bush with their families.

       "Another charming reunion. You must be Sam's brothers - you are much like him," said Aragorn.

       The two hobbits bowed. "Hal more than me, my lord," said Hamson. "I take after my Gaffer's side of the family really."

       "I can see why the Hobbiton tug-o-war team won so often with you in the team," said Faramir.

       Hamson laughed. "Best time was when Lotho Pimple and the Hardbottle team fell face down in the mud! The Gaffer was fair dancin' with glee."

       "I can imagine!" said Aragorn. "I regret not meeting your father but I have had Sam quoting his wisdom for many years."

       Hal laughed. "I'm sorry to say that we used to mouth the words whenever Gaffer gave us one of his sayings. Though I find meself repeating the same things to my little 'uns now."

       Sam introduced the Lord Thorongil, the Steward of Arnor and the rest of the party, and they sat down to study the menu and order. Ham and Hal returned to the family dining-room but promised to return later with wives and children.

       Aragorn studied the chalked menu on the board above the bar. "Decisions, decisions.............It all sounds so marvellous I don't know what to choose."

       Extensive and careful deliberations followed as they considered their choices: roast pheasant, game pie, a rich beef stew, and liver and bacon casserole all sounded tempting. Finally, decisions made, they sat back and sipped at half-pints of light ale. It was then that Aragorn broached a question which had puzzled him for years.

       "Frodo, I often wonder why you no longer seem to suffer from the Sea-longing. You and Sam, more than any others of the Fellowship, endured for so long on lembas alone, and you were deeply afflicted by the Sea-longing, even after you declined the chance to go to Valinor. Yet now you seem to have shaken it off, which does not happen normally, I am sure."

       Frodo nodded. "I don't understand it myself. The longing just faded, some years ago - even before my last illness. I don't remember when I realised it no longer haunted my dreams. It seemed to be around the last time the spider bite troubled me. I don't understand why that ceased to cause problems either. It used to fill with greenish-black pus and caused agonising pain and fever, but after that last severe bout of it, it never did it again."

       Pippin glanced at Merry and fidgeted. He had hoped no-one would ever raise this point but now they had, and he wondered what Merry intended to say, if anything.

       "Pip, do you have ants in your drawers or are you nursing a guilty secret?" Frodo enquired.

       Pip shifted uneasily under the bright blue gaze and looked at Merry, whose face was unreadable.

       "I think it's safe to tell him now," Sam said quietly

       "Tell me what, exactly?"

       Pippin gave Frodo one of his most earnest looks. "We were so worried about you, Fro. You were suffering so much with that Morgul wound, the bite and we knew you had the Sea longing too. Sam was tied here - his love of the Shire, Rose, the children - but you just seemed to be fading."

       "When we last went to Gondor - just the two of us - around the time Rosie-lass was born, we met Treebeard near the Gap of Rohan. He asked after you and we told him all about your problems. He was most concerned. When we drank the ent draft he told us it would counter the effect of the lembas, and he seemed to think he could do something for you too." Merry looked especially serious.

       Pip took up the tale again. "He told us he would prepare something to help with the Sea-longing and the spider bite. He said he knew of nothing which would heal the Morgul wound though, but at least his concoction wouldn't do any harm. And he said it wouldn't make you grow taller."

       "Just as well," said Frodo drily. "I'm not sure I could stand the bother or the expense of a new wardrobe."

       Merry quirked a grin at his cousin. "On our way home we found Treebeard waiting for us. We had brought some small bottles and he filled them with a clear liquid and told us we were to add five drops to your tea twice a day but only when the Sea-longing was strong or when the spider bite was bad. He said we could also put a drop into the wounds......."

       "And he said we could put some in Sam's tea if he was ever troubled with a longing for Valinor." Pip turned to Legolas. "We did ask but he said it would only work on mortals. I'm sorry, Legolas."

       "Do not worry, Pippin. I can live with mine until the time comes, for what is a hundred years to an Elf? I am happy to be here with all of you."

       Pippin beamed. "When we arrived home, it was already Blotmath and the anniversary of the Morgul wound was past, although Sam told us it had been bad. We knew the worst time for the spider-bite would be in Rethe, so we made sure we were at Bag End for that anniversary. "

       Merry nodded. "We added the drops to your tea - letting Rose and Sam in on the secret - and when the wounds drained we put some in the holes."

      "And it worked!" Pip said triumphantly. "You stopped longing for Valinor and the bites healed at last. That just left the wound in your shoulder - and your melancholy, which nothing seemed to help."

       Aragorn shook his head. "That explains a good deal. I am very thankful that Treebeard was able to provide some relief for you, my friend."

       Merry peered at his cousin. "You're not mad, are you Fro?"

       "Of course I'm not. I'm very grateful to you both - and to Treebeard. I wish I'd known when we met him last year, so I could have thanked him." Frodo threw an arm round Merry's shoulder and reached across to clasp Pip's hand. Then he patted Sam's hand.

       Aragorn smiled. "We shall be happy to pass on your thanks on our way south. Treebeard keeps an eye on Orthanc and the Gap of Rohan."

       "I almost didn't believe it when he walked out of the woods and spoke to us on the way here." Bergil was wide-eyed at the memory. "To meet the oldest being in Middle-earth was overwhelming - I felt as though I was in a story." Faramir and Beregond nodded their agreement.

       "Not quite the oldest, for I think Tom Bombadil is older still," said Frodo with a smile. "Oldest and fatherless, that is what Lord Elrond called him, but who or what he is exactly, I do not know."

       "Nor do any who dwell in Middle-earth," murmred Legolas. "The spirit of the land, some say he is, and others that he is Illuvatar himself."

       "He was immune to the Ring, I know that. When he put it on he did not become invisible, and when I wore it he could still see me. His voice subdued Old Man Willow and the barrow-wight, and he seemed to have a great deal of power over Nature. We have not seen him for a while, but when we went to Bree last Spring - before our trip to Gondor - he was waiting for us and we stayed at his cottage for several days, talking to him about the events of the War and the Troubles. He seemed to know a lot about you, Estel."

       The King smiled. "He and I have met before, many years ago - and he knew who I was, even then!"

       "He was not bothered by Sharkey's Men. I think he can hide himself and his land if there is need."

       Frodo glanced up as Betsy Longsmial arrived with the first of the dishes.

       "I have considerable power, you know," said Pippin. "I shall make this food disappear!"

       "I think we're all going to manage that," laughed Faramir.

       The food was exceptionally good. Aragorn, his cousins, Frodo and Gimli enjoyed the robust liver and bacon casserole which was served with fluffy mashed potatoes, Faramir, Sam and Porto were full of praise for the beef stew, the Elves tucked into roast pheasant and Merry, Pip, Bergil and his father opted for game pie. It was all splendid, and for some time there was little talk as everyone gave themselves over to the serious business of eating.

      When the Men and Elves had finished, and the hobbits were filling up a few corners, Ham and Hal returned with their wives and children, to meet the visitors. Ham was married to his second cousin, Snowdrop Goodchild, and had six sturdy children. Hal had wedded Poppy Longsmial, daughter of the landlord at The Ivy Bush, and they had five young ones. The children were all wide-eyed and a little shy, except Hal's youngest, Bella, who clambered on to Aragorn's lap and settled herself.

       "Does that tickle, Lord Estel?" she asked, touching his beard.

       "At first, yes, but I have had a beard for many years, so it no longer tickles."

       Poppy was mortified at her daughter's impertinance, but she was reassured by the Man's laughter when she attempted to apologise.

       "You're off down to the Dragon soon then?" Hamson said to Sam.

       "Aye. We're going to get totally drunk and sing vulgar songs and stagger home late."

       "Reckon we have to come along and see that! Men and Elves singing Shire drinking songs ........Do they know 'The Maid of Michel Delving'?" Hal laughed.

       "Yes, Merry and Pip seem to have taught them most of our songs."

       "What? Even 'Nineteen Nights...'?"

       "Only the censored version. We're going to teach 'em the full one tonight."

       "Including Verse Seventy-One?" Hal whistled when Sam nodded in reply. "This I can't miss! What do you think, Ham? We're going to teach these Men and Elves the proper version of 'Nineteeen Nights.' Shame to miss that!"

       "Certainly would be. Count me in, Sammie!"

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

       Twilight had come and gone by the time they left the inn and walked along to the famous Green Dragon, where they were joined by all four of Rose's brothers.The inn sign was just visible in the light from the doorway, a large and undeniably green dragon with spikes on its tail and a somewhat humorous expression. It was, Aragorn thought with amusement, a decidedly hobbity dragon.

       "Welcome, sirs, welcome!"

       "Seats over here, my lords!"

       Within minutes they were settled and tasting some of the Shire's finest ale. Aragorn and Faramir had tried it because Merry and Pip often sent a barrel or two to Gondor, but for the others it was a new experience.

       "Superb!" said Tarondor. "Never have I tasted such fine ale."

       "Be warned though, cousin. Hobbit ale is extremely strong. Believe me, I know!"

       "Ah yes, didn't you and ...er.....Cirion end up on the floor after four pints of the stuff?" Halboron asked innocently. The hobbits smirked.

       "Yes we did - and it was more than a day before I could feel my legs again. I have learned to treat hobbit ale with due respect." Aragorn chuckled. "I should have listened to Gandalf. He warned me about hobbits' eating and drinking abilities."

       Faramir smiled but winced at the memory. "I have never had such a pounding headache. Every time I moved my head I saw stars."

       "No stamina, these Men," Merry remarked, to loud laughter.

       "Have no fear, my lord. We'll teach you how to drink like hobbits!" cried Rolo Twofoot.

       Aragorn placed several coins on the bar and set up the next round of drinks for everyone in the room, to whoops of glee. Even sour old Rusty Overhill, who viewed all Big Folk with suspicion, was beginning to warm to these Men.

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

       Anyone stepping inside The Green Dragon two hours later might have been amazed at the sight which met their eyes. A rowdy group of hobbits, Men, Elves and one very tipsy Dwarf were singing one of the Bree-land's most vulgar ditties -'Watkins' Ale' - while Tully Noakes conducted with a half-empty tankard and his son and son-in-law helped by prompting him whenever he forgot the words. Behind the bar, Daffodil Chubb flirted outrageously with young Bergil.

       "D'y'know, I thin' we're sozzled enough to sing 'Nineteen Nights'!" Pip announced, to cheers.

       "An' you have t' sing Verse Sev'nty One!" said Faramir.

       Oh come my sober, bashful lads           

       And listen to my song

       Of how a decent Shire lad

       Began a-doing wrong.

       Merry began, with the others joining in. It was an incredibly detailed song about one innocent hobbit lad and his stay in the Northfarthing village of Nobottle, where the ale was plentiful and the lasses only too willing to show him what he had been missing in the sober environs of Bywater. Each lass had a particular talent which was described at great length in the rousing verses - and while Bergil had heard of most of these skills, he had certainly never experienced any of them, except a few stolen kisses. He was grateful for the dim lighting because he was blushing long before they reached the fortieth verse. He had thought hobbits were modest and shy, but he was seeing another side to them if this song was anything to go by.

       Faramir almost fell off his chair as the words to the long-awaited verse finally arrived in his brain. No-one but a hobbit would think of using a parsnip for ...........what the young hobbitess in the song had just used it for!. It made his eyes water just thinking about it. It probably made the hobbit-lad's eyes water too.

       "See!" said Frodo. "Tol' you it was an.......ana.....tom'cally impossibibble!"

       "Only a hobbit would do that sort of thing with a veg'table!"

       "We're inventive, I gran' you tha' - but I thin' it would hurt."

       "Seems a waste of a good parsnip if y' ask me," said Sam sadly, to collective hysterics from everyone else.

       Verse Seventy-Three featured another young lass who could do things with mushrooms and parts of her anatomy which made everyone almost choke. Did everything revolve around food in the Shire?

       "Course it does!" said Ham Gamgee. "Besides, a lad needs to keep up his strength on these occasions! I reckon tha' song's why Hal moved to the Northfarthing!"

       Hal contrived to look shocked, but the grin on his face said that there might be a kernel of truth in Ham's remark. Jolly Cotton sniggered.

       Everyone was breathless and laughing when the song ended. Tully Noakes wiped his eyes and sat down, somewhat unsteadily.  "Haven' had so much fun in years!" He took a swig from his tankard and glared on finding it almost empty. A full one replaced it without a word being spoken.

       Rusty Overhill was sitting by the inglenook, chuckling to himself, an incident so rare that the landlord came out to look. "Well I'll be jiggered! You've got that miserable old bugger laughing! D'ye know, we alus said he'd only laugh when the King comes back!"

       For reasons he was unable to fathom, this remark caused much chortling among the visitors. Tarondor slapped the landlord - gently - on the back. "Now we have a King again, so you were right."

       Merry and Pippin danced in a rather wobbly fashion round the table, singing a song in praise of the inn's famous ale, and then the Men in the group treated everyone to a rousing rendition of some Gondorian drinking songs and a few from Arnor. The 'Cautionary Tale of the Maids of Lebennin' was extremely funny, a tale of innocent maids and naughty soldiers and a number of vulgar mis-understandings, which had all the hobbits cheering.

       The hour was late when they finally tottered forth into the night and made their slow and unsteady way back to Hobbiton. Merry and Pippin were staying at the Dragon so they had the easiest task, with only a short walk - or a stagger - down the corridor to their beds. Ham and Hal tiptoed into the Ivy Bush after many noisy 'good-nights' and a lot of laughter, and the Cotton lads departed for the farm. Porto bade them farewell outside Bywater, and hoped very fervently that he had no patients requiring complicated treatment during the night. He had thoroughly enjoyed himself, being very drunk and in the company of friends. The King could certainly handle his drink, he thought admiringly.

       The group made its way through Hobbiton. It was just as well the village square was empty, as none of the party was capable of walking in a straight line and they needed all the space they could find. Gimli was walking with exaggerated care, his arm linked through Sam's. Tully and Totty Noakes and Cotman Carter stumbled along behind, still chuckling. The Men and Elves walked in a long interlinked line, giggling and tripping. Frodo was walking on Sam's other side, feeling carefree and giggly. It had been a wonderful way to spend an evening.

       "I hope Rose has brewed some of the Gaffer's cure, Sam. Thin' we're goin' to need it in the mornin'."

       "She said she would. You know Rose - always pre.....pared." Sam hiccupped.

       "Samwise. You're drunk!" said Aragorn.

       "Me? An' you're not?"

       "I'm tipsy - and it's wonderful!" The others agreed. Even the Elves had abandoned their dignity and were almost skipping.

       The Noakeses turned left to weave their way up the little lane to the cottages on the crest of the slope.

       "G'night, my lords. G'night Mister Baggins, Master Sam."

       "G'night, my friends."

       Rose was waiting for them,her shawl draped around her shoulders and her pretty face wreathed in smiles. "Looks like you had a good time," she said. She had been to bed but had risen to feed baby Pip, who regarded the guests solemnly for a moment and returned to suckling.

       Rose was tickled by the efforts not to wake the children. Watching several very tall, very inebriated Men trying to tip-toe along Bag End's passageways was extremely amusing. When they started shushing one another she had to disappear into the kitchen before she had hysterics.

       Aragorn closed the bedroom door as quietly as possible, removed his boots and sat down on the bed. He would just rest for a moment and then undress and get into bed. It had been one of the most enjoyable evenings he had ever spent - good food, good ale, good company. What more could anyone want?

       Frodo found that Rose had thoughtfully placed a full water jug in all the rooms. He forced himself to drink two glasses, although it made him feel slightly sick, because he knew it would help in the morning. He undressed, cleaned his teeth and climbed into bed, where he fell asleep in seconds.

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

       When he awoke, Aragorn felt as though he had been run over by an eored - or a stampeding mumak. He had fallen asleep fully dressed, sprawled across the bed. His neck ached, there were goblins with hammers inside his skull and his tongue seemed to be wearing a fur coat. Merry's colourful phrase 'Mouth like a badger's arse' flitted across his brain and he groaned. He opened one eye very cautiously and found Rose looking down at him, affectionate pity written all over her face.

       "I reckon you could do with some of this," she said quietly, holding out a small glass.

       "Wha.....what is it?"

       "The Gaffer's famous pick-me-up. Will revive anyone not completely dead. Guaranteed."

       The King hauled himself up and swung round gingerly until he was leaning against the pillows. He took the glass and sniffed.

       "Just swallow it down. It's not too bad - there's a lot of mint in it."

       He did as he was told. For a moment nothing happened. It tasted of mint and ginger and seemed too mild to do any good. Then it was as though he had been picked up and shaken by a troll with a grudge: heat radiated through him, lights danced in front of his eyes and he thought his ears were going to explode. He was convinced he was going to die. Then, as suddenly as they had come, the effects vanished, and he found he could open his eyes without wincing.

       "That was............interesting," he mumbled.

       "I thought it best not to frighten you off by telling you it had a bit of a kick to it."

       "Mmmm. Just a bit. It works though. I'm feeling less giddy already. What does it contain?" The healer in him wanted to know. The Gaffer must have been quite a character and he found himself regretting that he had never met him.

       "I'll write it out for you before you return to Gondor. Now you stay there for a while and I'll bring you some tea. I'll just go and see to the rest of the afflicted." She prodded the fire into life and hurried off to administer the Gaffer's cure to all her guests.

       Frodo walked carefully into the kitchen, where Sam was already sitting at the table. Wordlessly, he poured some of his Gaffer's famous recipe into a glass and handed it to Frodo, who sniffed appreciatively because he liked the smell of mint, then swallowed it quickly.

       "Rose is just doing the rounds with it," Sam said, once Frodo was able to open his eyes and focus.

       "Yes, I heard her talking to Gimli. The children are being quiet this morning."

       "I think she gave them a talking-to." Sam opened the back door to a bleary-eyed Nibs Cotton, who had brought the milk supplies. "My word, Nibs, you look like death warmed up!"

       "Feel it an' all," mumbled Nibs. "Had about three hours sleep and my head's killing me."

       "You need some of the Gaffer's cure-all, my lad," said Sam, and gave a dose.

       "Woah!!! That bites back, Sam!"

       "You know what they say, lad. 'No pain, no gain.' That will do the trick - and put hair on your feet."

       Frodo poured a cup of tea and pushed it towards Nibs, whose eyes were streaming. "I think that's the cayenne pepper. Don't worry, Nibs. It'll wear off in a minute and you'll feel better."

       Bergil arrived, looking rather fragile but obviously better for a dose of Gaffer's medicine. He accepted a cup of tea and exchanged sympathetic glances with Nibs. Little Rosie-lass appeared soundlessly and patted him on the knee, then kissed her uncles and smiled at Aragorn and his cousins.

       "Silly," she said. "Too much beer not good."

       "Great fun though," Aragorn murmured, and everyone agreed.