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A Shire Sketchbook  by Baggins Babe

Wedmath 1432 SR

       "Frodo Baggins, you are a dolt and a ninnyhammer!"

       Sam winced; he disliked hearing Frodo take names to himself. He was worried by his Master's behaviour over the last few days - shutting himself in the study, rummaging through books, poring over maps and going through his original notes for the Red Book. These things caused a chill to steal into the heart of the normally contented hobbit - was Frodo slipping back into the old ways? Had their astonishing vision of the Lady Yavanna re-awakened Frodo's longing for the West?

      Bracing himself, Sam steadied the laden tray and opened the study door.  "Frodo? Is something wrong? I don't like to hear you calling yourself such things."

       "I'm fine, Sam, really." He absently helped himself to a jam tart, his attention concentrated upon a large map of Eriador.

       "You're not.......planning to ........leave, are you?" Stomach churning, Sam finally voiced the fear which had begun to gnaw at his heart.

       Frodo looked up in genuine astonishment, then leapt up and flung both arms round his friend. "Never!" he said fiercely. "I'm so sorry, Sam - I've been so selfish. I didn't realise how worried you were. I am not leaving Middle-earth, the Shire or Bag End - never! You don't get rid of me that easily."

       "Very glad to hear it," said Sam with a shaky laugh, returning the hug. "So what is going on?"

       Frodo gave an impish grin. "Let's just say I'm hoping to test a theory. I'm going on a very short hiking trip, just as far as the Northfarthing. I know you can't leave Rose at the moment but I've asked Merry and Pip to come along."

       Sam chuckled. "It'll certainly do them good to do some walking for a change. I suppose you're not going to tell me why you're off to the Northfarthing."

       "Not yet, my dear Sam. I'd rather not say anything until I know if my idea is correct or just the deranged wanderings of a hobbit with too much time on his hands and too much imagimation. You know how vain I am - don't want to show myself up as a complete ass!"

       "You know I'll never think of you as an ass. But if you're anywhere near Tighfield don't forget to call in and see Ham and Fred. They'd love to see you."

       "We may at that." Frodo looked at the plate. "Good grief! I seem to have demolished all the jam tarts! I shall be the one needing the exercise at this rate!"

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

       The two tall hobbits arrived on the doorstep of Bag End a few days later, whistling cheerfully (and, in Merry's case at least, not terribly tunefully). Sam hastened to open the door, the children racing round from the garden and leaping all over the visitors.

       "So what's going on, Sam? Frodo was very mysterious in his letter." Merry swung his namesake up on to his shoulders and walked down the hall.

       "Ah! I really don't know. He won't tell me either. I was that worried - thought he might be suffering the sea-longing again but he seems well and happy."

       "I keep telling Sam not to fuss," said Rose calmly. She was making pies, her face rather pink from the heat of the oven. "Frodo is fine and he won't ever leave us now." She dusted the flour from her hands and closed the oven door firmly. "How are you both?"

       "We're very well, Rose." Merry kissed her. "You look very well and blooming."

       "Flattery will get you a long way, Merry! I look like an oliphaunt, as you can see - and they're not due till after Yule." She glanced round to make sure the children were out of earshot. "Carrying two at once is hard work and much more tiring. I keep falling asleep whenever I sit down for a few minutes!"

       "That will do no harm - it will make sure you rest." Pip embraced her.

       "You're here in good time. We weren't expecting you for another couple of days."

       "Thought we'd help out with the wheat harvest at your da's farm - Frodo said it should be going ahead tomorrow, and the weather seems set fair."

       "Well da certainly won't say no to the help. I won't be able to do it this year, which is a shame." Rose sounded wistful, but then she laughed and looked down at her increasing waistline. "At least I have the perfect excuse!"

       "Where is Fro?" Merry enquired, glancing round.

       "I made an extra raspberry tart this morning so he kindly took it down to the Row when he went to see Ivy. She's due in a month or so and seems to be enjoying eating for two."

       Sam poured tea for everyone. "At least she's had the chance to find out how a proper husband behaves when his wife is expecting - she cannot believe how attentive and caring Tully is. He shifted for himself for so long after his first wife died so he's never minded turning his hand to housework and cooking. He dotes on Ivy and is so thrilled to be a father again. Won't let her do anything, she says."

       "I'll wager there's been some comment in the Ivy Bush about Tully's .......er....capabilities!"

       Sam laughed. "Yes, there has! Not that he seems to care - just smiles when they say he's old and grey, and said it didn't matter about snow on the roof if there's a good fire in the hearth!"

       They were still laughing when Frodo arrived. He greeted his cousins delightedly but refused to satisfy their curiosity about the hiking trip and they talked about the children, their latest letters from Aragorn, and Saradoc's health, which was causing Merry some concern. The rest of the day passed in pleasant conversation and good food and they opted for an early night in order to be ready for the harvest.

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

       Harvesting was fun if the weather was fine, and it was. While most of the menfolk cut the wheat, Frodo, Mrs Cotton and Marigold gathered it into sheaves and piled them into stooks, where they could dry thoroughly before being taken to the Grange and placed on a thick layer of spiky gorse, which deterred rats and mice. By early evening the harvesting was finished, with one small section of wheat left standing. Old superstition said that the spirit of the corn retreated as the grain was cut, until it had nowhere else to go. Cutting these last few stalks was therefore quite dangerous and usually attemped blindfolded by whoever had been nominated. Frodo had been duly pushed forward by his cousins and Rose, and now he stood patiently while Rose tied a handkerchief behind his head and Merry checked to make sure he could see nothing. The scythe was put into his hands, he was spun round several times and then directed by shouted instructions. After a couple of attempts which mostly endangered Pippin's ankles, he swiped the blade and was cheered as the stalks fell. Frodo gathered them quickly and presented them with a gallant bow to Mrs Cotton, who would make the little bunch into a poppet or doll to bring good luck to the farm for the next year.

       A great harvest supper followed and it was late when they made their way back to Bag End, the children dozing in the carriage with Rose, and Frodo and his cousins walking alongside.

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

       The hiking trip began after elevenses and Frodo led Merry and Pip up the lane past the stables on their left and out towards Overhill. They strode along at a comfortable pace, singing some of Bilbo's old walking songs and chatting happily. Merry and Pippin began to wonder where their cousin found so much energy. Naturally they were delighted that he was so fit but they would have been glad of a slower pace.

       "Really Frodo, anyone would think this was a walking race! Can't we slow down?" said Pip plaintively.

       Frodo turned, his eyes twinkling. "You know your trouble, Pip? You've become soft. We'll have to send you to Gondor for some military training."

       "Cheek! Merry - Fro's being bossy!"

       "I heard. Get a move on, Pip. We need to find a place to camp."

       Frodo relented. "Alright you two. We'll set up camp over there." He nodded towards a sheltered spot. "I brought some ale..... ," he added in a sing-song voice.

       "You did? Well why didn't you say so?. Pip and I will look for firewood and then we'll help with the cooking." Merry and Pip set down their packs and hurried off to find kindling. Frodo's laughter followed them.

       "It's amazing what the word 'ale' will achieve!

       Frodo made a circle of stones and set the fire within it. He cooked the potatoes by placing them within the stones and set the pan over the fire. Soon they were eating bacon, sausages, mushrooms and potatoes and drinking ale as the moon rose over the Shire. When their meal was over the hobbits lit their pipes and leaned back in contenment. They told stories and reminisced until they were ready to turn in, when Merry and Pip placed their bedrolls either side of Frodo. He lay awake for some time, watching the progress of Earendil and listening to the soft sound of his cousins' breathing, and wondering is his hunch was correct.

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

       None of the hobbits had ever travelled to the far north of the Shire, which was the least inhabited part of their land. They had passed the last village and farms several miles back and Merry looked around with great interest at the woods and ancient hedgerows.

       "That hedge must be at least a thousand years old - look at that!"

       "It's so peaceful here. Not even the noises of farm animals, just wild animals and birds."

        Merry looked hard at Frodo. "And you've brought us here because...................?" He raised his eyebrows.

       Frodo chuckled. "You don't catch me out that easily, Merry! All in good time, all in good time."

       Merry harrumphed, but did not pursue the matter. He and Pip gathered firewood and Frodo sorted the food. Pip returned in triumph, having found some fine penny bun mushrooms in a little patch of damp woodland, and the clearing was soon filled with the wonderful aromas of food.

      Once supper had been consumed, the hobbits lit their pipes and settled back. Pip sang a few songs, Frodo recited one of Bilbo's poems, and Merry also entertained with some recitations from the inns of Buckland, which made Frodo and Pip laugh so much they had to stop singing for a while. Then Frodo turned to Pip.

       "I'd like to hear the lament for the Entwives. I think I've only heard it once."

       "It's rather sad, Fro. Wouldn't you rather hear something jolly?"

       "No, I really want to hear it. I wasn't all that aware when you sang it in Gondor after Aragorn's coronation."

       Pip began to sing, his voice perfectly suited to the lament's wistful quality. In the minor key, it spoke of loss in a restrained yet heartfelt way which brought tears to the eyes, and Pip managed to make the Ents' words gruff and resonant while those of the Entwives were softer, full of eagerness for their adventure, tinged with sorrow that the Ents would not go with them.

       As Pip finished the song they heard a sob near the hedge. Frodo rose and bowed while his cousins sat stupefied, Merry dropping his pipe in his lap and yelping as a shower of sparks threatened to set light to his trousers.

       "Ladies! Come forward and welcome. I am Frodo Baggins, at your service."

       Slowly they came from the shadow of the hedge to stand before the hobbits, several slender twiggy figures, undoubtedly feminine, with soft mossy green skin and large gold-green eyes which were filled with tears.

       "Where did you learn that song?" one whispered. "None know it but Ents and they are all gone."

       "Nay, lady, they live. My cousins here spent some time in Fangorn Forest with its master, whom they knew as Treebeard, as well as Quickbeam and many others.

       Merry and Pip had managed to scramble to their feet and bow. "It is true - we were saved from Orcs by Treebeard and spent several days with him."

       More Entwives appeared from within the hedgeline, exclaiming in astonishment at what they were being told.

       Slowly, and with many interruptions (the Entwives were much more hasty and inquisitive than their menfolk), the story of the meeting with Treebeard was told. The hobbits also explained about Saruman and the Ring War.

       "We felt the darkness growing day by day," said the one who had introduced herself as Rowan. "Like a storm which builds until nothing can stop it. We waited, all the animals and woodland creatures held their breath. We saw a great darkness in the East, rising over the land as though it would devour all, before a fresh soft wind blew it to nothing."

       "Yes, that is what happened as the Dark Tower fell." Pip turned to Frodo and introduced him properly as the Ringbearer, much to Frodo's embarrassment. The Entwives regarded him curiously and with growing awe. Frodo tried to play down his part, praising Sam and Aragorn and Gandalf, but his cousins were having none of it.

       "And there is a King again - Aragorn, now King Elessar, descended from Luthien and from the Lady Melian. His Queen is Arwen Undomiel, daughter of Elrond of Rivendell," Pip said proudly, to another clamour from the Entwives.

       "A King! Just think of it. Does he like trees?"

       "Master Elrond still dwells in Middle-earth?" asked one particularly graceful Entwife.

       "Alas no. He and the Lady of the Golden Wood have gone to Elvenhome. His sons remain here, and Lord Glorfindel, as well as King Thranduil of the Greenwood and Lord Celeborn."

       Merry chuckled. "Aragorn loves trees - he was brought up among Elves and has an Elven appreciation of nature."

       They talked for several hours, answering the many questions, while Frodo managed to explain at least two Ages of history without faltering. In turn, the Entwives explained how they had doubled back, avoiding the tides of war sweeping over the Brown Lands, and travelling over the Misty Mountains to seek a place where they might tend their gardens. At last, Rowan silenced her sisters.

       "We may not need to sleep, but these dear hobbits do. We shall talk again tomorrow." She led them back into the hedge and they vanished, silent as ghosts.

       Snuggled in their blankets, the cousins both turned to Frodo.

       "Come on Fro," said Pip. " You're not going to sleep until you tell us."

       "Tell you what?" he murmured innocently.

       "You were expecting them to be there. You weren't a bit surprised when they appeared. Admit it? Why and how? How did you know they would be there?"

       "I didn't know - I hoped. As for why.......I was re-reading the Red Book. Remember what Treebeard said about the Entwives? He said they loved gardens and cultivated land. And as I read that I thought 'they would love the Shire', and suddenly I began to wonder. Sam's cousin swore he saw a walking tree in the Northfarthing. we've all assumed he must have seen an Ent but what if it was an Entwife? Sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight."

       "You know it is really irritating having a genius as a cousin," Pip muttered, but he was grinning. "You can stop smirking now, Fro. I can't wait to let Strider know about this!" He and Merry turned towards their cousin, guarding him on both sides. The soft sounds of the night lulled them gently into sleep and they were unaware of the figures who emerged again and watched over them until daylight.





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