Foreyule 1429 SR

During their stay at Edoras, on the way home from Gondor, the hobbits spent a lot of time in the company of Eomer. The young king of Rohan found the Shirefolk creeping into his heart, just as they did with everyone they met. On several occasions he took Frodo out with him, seated before him on his great war horse as they pounded across the plains. He was surprised to see that Frodo was not afraid, no matter how recklessly they rode. He appeared thrilled and exhilarated, his cheeks flushed, his eyes sparkling, his laughter ringing out.

       "And I thought you might be frightened, Frodo."

       "I have been riding for years, Eomer King - and I rode upon Shadowfax with Gandalf. Even this great beast can never hope to match that one for speed. And I have complete faith in your ability to stay in the saddle."

       "Thank you! It is good to see you so well and happy, my friend. You enjoy riding, in your own land?"

       "Yes, very much, although I have not ridden for pleasure since before I left the Shire with the Ring, and poor old Strider must think me a dreadful bore, although Sam and Merry have both made sure he had plenty of exercise." He scanned the horizon. "It is a shame Shadowfax has departed. Are there none of the Mearas left in Middle-earth?"

       "Oh yes, for Shadowfax himself sired many foals. He was the lord of horses and had the pick of the mares. On our way back I shall show you some of his grandchildren." Eomer turned his horse without seeming to pull on the reins, and Frodo realised that most of the commands to the animal were given through the legs. Eomer had complete control of this highly-strung beast.

       "Saradoc - Merry's father - taught me to ride, and Paladin also gave me a lot of help. Pippin's father is the one who breeds the finest ponies in the Shire, and he knows more about horseflesh and what makes a prize animal than anyone else. I'm glad he was able to see Shadowfax briefly - apparently Gandalf paid them a visit on his way through the Shire to the Havens. Paladin still talks about it."

       "I'm sure he does. Those of us who saw that horse - and those who saw him carry the White Rider - are very fortunate. I am glad Shadowfax was allowed to accompany his master back across the Sea. The first Mearas came from Valinor, long ago."

       They picked up speed and raced back towards Edoras. Frodo rested his hands on the horse's neck and felt the muscles rippling. The ground flashed past beneath them and Frodo was almost shrieking with delight.

       "This is such fun!" He glanced up at Eomer, his face alive with joy and mischief. The family likeness to Merry and Pippin was certainly obvious when Frodo was enjoying himself.

       Eomer looked down and the small figure before him. Here was someone who had been unable to take pleasure in such things for many years, and the King of Rohan felt both anger and pity, that so fair and noble a soul as Frodo Baggins had been forced to suffer so much after selflessly saving Middle-earth. He understood why Aragorn cherished this hobbit so dearly, and tightened his embrace a little.

       "It is wonderful that you can take pleasure in such things again. Look!" He slowed his horse and pointed to a group of mares and foals grazing on some fresh grass.

       "Those white foals must be from Shadowfax - the manes and tails are dazzling. They are wild though - can they be tamed?"

       "Some of them, but one or two will always remain untamed. That is as it should be, for some things should always be unspoilt and free." Eomer laughed. "I don't know about you, Frodo, but I am becoming very hungry."

       "So am I. I hope Pip and Merry have saved something for us."

       "If they haven't there will be trouble." The King urged his horse on. Nothing should stand between a hobbit and his dinner.

       In Meduseld, the other hobbits looked in delight at Frodo, seeing his rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes.

       "Why, Frodo, you look wonderful! You've clearly enjoyed your ride. What did you do to him, Eomer?"

       "I urged my horse to gallop like the wind, but nothing frightened Frodo."

       "Of course not. This is Lord Frodo the Fearless. And this is Lord Samwise the Brave, and over there is Sir Meriadoc the Magnificent."

       "And that nonsense was prattled off by Sir Peregrin the Impudent!" Frodo chuckled, then ducked as Pip threw a spoon at him.

       "Not to mention Sir Peregrin the Addle-Pated!" added Merry.

       This last so amused Elfwine that he almost fell over, and Lothiriel was giggling madly. She found the hobbits remarkable and very pleasant company.

       "Look what we found, Fro. Sam and I went for a walk in a little patch of woodland and we found............?"

       "Mushrooms! Goodness! They look wonderful."

       "Sam has been busy in the kitchens, showing Meduseld's cooks how we prepare mushrooms in the Shire."

       Lothiriel laughed. "I told them to listen bcause hobbits know more about cooking mushrooms than anyone else in Middle-earth."

       "My lady, you have the gratitude of this particular hobbit," Frodo said gallantly, bowing over her slender hand.

       "Ah, Eomer my love, I fear you have at least one rival for my affections," she said, smiling.

       Eomer grinned. "Were it anyone else I should be furious, but as my rival is Frodo Baggins, I shall endure it."

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

       The first week of Foreyule saw Merry and Pippin and their wives back at Crickhollow, preparing for Yule, bringing in greenery and hanging mistletoe all over the house. As they returned with some holly they were called by one of the bounders from the bridge.

       "'Scuse me, Mister Merry sir, but there's a Ranger at the bridge with parcels for you and the other Travellers, and there's two Big Folk from Rohan as well."

       "Oh! Aragorn and Eomer must have sent some things for Yule. Come on, Pip. Let's get this holly unloaded and see what they've sent us."

       When the wagon arived at the Brandywine Bridge, Merry saw a Ranger of Arnor in his grey cloak with the star brooch. He was sitting on the bench outside the bounder's post, talking with two tall, fair-haired Men of Rohan. When they heard the wagon rumble towards them the Men stood and saluted the Captains.

       The hobbits dismounted and saluted. "Meriadoc Brandybuck, Knight of Rohan, at your service, and your families'," said Merry. He recognised the Rohirrim as housecarls of Eomer's, Aelric and Gram.

       "Peregrin Took, Knight of Gondor and Guard of the Citadel, at your service, and your families'."

       "I apologise for our appearance. We were gathering green boughs for Yule when we received your summons."

       "Not at all, Sir Peregrin. I am Mardil and I have a large crate of gifts from our Lord King Elessar, and my friends from Rohan have gifts from the Court of Meduseld. Including this - for the Ringbearer himself." The Man gestured to where Gram was leading something out of the copse.

       "Elves and wizards! That is .........that is some pony!" Merry gasped. Pip was just staring. His father bred ponies but he had never seen anything as beautiful as the milk-white beast stepping gracefully towards them.

       "His grandsire was none other than Shadowfax, lord of all horses. Our King selected and trained him personally, that he should be a fitting mount for the Lord Frodo," explained Aelric.

       "He's a beauty! I can see his likeness to Shadowfax. What's his name?" Merry stroked the pony, who nuzzled his pocket and found the peppermints he kept there for Stybba.

       "Eomer King has not given him a name. That is for the Lord Frodo to do. There is a letter for him, as well as letters for you, Sir Meriadoc. It is good to see you again."

       "Will you all return to the Hall and stay the night? It will be difficult to return to Bree now, and we have Man-sized rooms these days. My parents will be delighted to meet you."

       The Men accepted gratefully, mounted their horses and followed the wagon back to Brandy Hall and a welcome from the Master and his lady.

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

       The next morning the Men departed for Bree, rested and full of fine food. They carried enough sandwiches and other items to see them all the way back to Rohan, never mind Bree. Merry and Pip loaded the cart, hitched the new pony - who seemed very amiable and well-behaved - to the back, and set off for Hobbiton. At that speed they would not reach Bag End in a day, and would stay the night at The Floating Log. They kept good time and arrived at the inn in time for tea. Having settled the ponies and tidied themselves, they wandered down to see Sam's sister Daisy. She and her family lived in the pretty little cottage where Frodo had spent the first years of his life. It stood back from the road between Frogmorton and Whitfurrows amd was as pretty as a picture. Even in winter it looked utterly charming. Daisy welcomed them warmly, scolded them for not being as sensibly dressed as she thought they should be, and gave them pork pie, fresh-baked bread and lots of cake. After resting for a while, telling tales of their travels to the children, they strolled back to the inn, ate supper and went to bed.

       The morning dawned bright and clear, and the journey to Hobbiton seemed quite short. They unhitched Frodo's pony at the bottom of the Hill and Merry walked it up, while Pip took the cart up the lane past Bag End. He rapped on the green door and stood on the path, his hands in his pockets, whistling. His mother would have been horrified, for such was not the behaviour of a gentlehobbit and future Thain. Frodo emerged, and looked very surprised to see his cousin.

       "Pip! What are you doing here? Sam? Rose? Look who's here!"

       "I am delivering Yule presents from the King." He pointed. "The cart's up there."

       "Merry not with you this time?" Frodo asked in surprise.

       "He's around," said Pip vaguely.

       "Fro?" said a voice from the lane. "Come here and see what Eomer has sent you."

       "Merry? Is that you?"

       "No, it's the ghost of Belladonna Baggins!" said the voice. "I've come back to tell Sam Gamgee to stop filling up my garden with root vegetables!"

       Laughing, Frodo opened the gate and stepped into the lane. He stopped short, and stared.

       "Well? Don't stand there gaping. If the wind changes you'll be stuck like that." Merry chuckled. "What do you think of your new pony?"

       "He's..................he's magnificent!"

       "He's Shadowfax's grandson. Isn't he the most amazing pony you've ever seen?"

       Sam ran his eye over the beast. "He's a bit big. I hope he won't be too much for you, Frodo. He looks powerful."

       "He is," Merry assured him. "But he has been trained by Eomer himself, for 'the Ring-bearer'," he added with a bow and a flourish, knowing how Frodo disliked the title. "I believe that, like his grandsire, if he is willing to carry you, you will not fall."

       "I hope Strider won't be too put out," said Frodo, stroking the pony's nose. "The dear old lad has been a faithful and gentle mount for a long time, but he deserves some rest - although I doubt this one would pull a cart." He took an apple from his pocket and fed the creature. "Does he have a name?"

      "No. Eomer has left that to you. I'm sure you'll come up with something original."

       Frodo prowled all round the pony, looking at it from every angle. "Does he wear saddle and bridle or must I ride him Elf-fashion?"

       "He's trained to the bridle. Although I suppose you could ride him without tack if you wanted to."

       Frodo laughed. "I'll stick to saddle and bridle. I'm not an Elf - or a Maiar. Well, my lad, we must get you settled, introduce you to the others, and think of a suitable name for you."

       Rose petted the pony, and the children gathered round eagerly. Ellie and Fro fed him carrots and Pip lifted his little namesake and sat him lightly on the pony's back, ready to whisk him off if the animal became restive.

       "Limlight," said Frodo suddenly. "What do you think of that as a name, boy?"

       The pony nodded his head enthusiastically and licked his new master's face.

       "I think that counts as approval," said Merry. "Eomer gave him all commands in Westron, so there won't be a language problem.

       "Well, Limlight, let us take you to your new home and settle you with plenty of hay. The Cotton lads did us proud with the haymaking while we were away - the hayloft is stuffed full for the winter."

       Taking the pony's halter, Frodo led Limlight up the lane to the stables. Strider whickered softly and stuck his head over the door. Bill and Molly, Rose's pony, did likewise, and they all inspected the newcomer. Ponies are herd animals and Limlight had missed his companions from the plains of Rohan; he sniffed the others and soon there was a great deal or conversation going on. Frodo forked straw onto the floor of the empty stable until it was half way up his own legs, put hay into the rack, removed the halter and groomed his present, talking softly in a mixture of Westron and Sindarin. Limlight nuzzled the pointed ear and huffed happily.

       "There we are, my lad." Frodo took some carrots and apples from the baskets and fed Limlight, and gave some to the other three ponies. He filled the water pails, filled Molly's hay net - she overturned her trough regularly if he gave her hay in it, and closed the doors.

       Merry was waiting for him. "I've threatened Pip with a tickle to the death if he eats everything." He threw his arm round Frodo's shoulders.

       "Rose won't allow it. I think our dinner is quite safe."

       The light from the hallway cast a golden glow across the path and them disappeared as they closed the door behind them.

       In the stable Limlight chewed the sweet hay and listened, reassured, to the snuffles and whinnies from the other ponies. He had decided already that he liked the small, cheerful people, and his master was special. There was an aura around him which drew the pony like a moth to a candle. A great one, full of light. The Ring-bearer. Limlight did not understand the title but he knew it was important, because Eomer King had said so. A special pony for a special master, Eomer had said. Limlight was content.