The Fellowship moved back into the cave and prepared for the evening meal as Aragorn examined Sam again. Sam rolled his eyes and laid his head on Frodo’s shoulder, but they both smiled at Aragorn to show that Sam’s apprehension was simply routine by now. His biggest concern was about the questions he expected Aragorn to ask him.

“How are feeling, Sam?” Aragorn wanted to know, seeming satisfied with his physical condition, but a bit reserved.

“I feel pretty good, thank you,” Sam replied, glancing nervously at Gimli as he anticipated the next question.

“I’m glad to hear that. Did you get any sleep?” the Ranger continued. To Sam’s relief, the Drawf shook his head slightly to let Sam know he wasn’t going to say anything about what happened earlier.

“I slept for about an hour but for the most part I just rested,” Sam told him. “I don’t want to over exert myself.” Gimli winked at him as he said those last words.

“Sam was a good hobbit overall,” Frodo reported, “with the exception of a little walk he tried to take while most of you were out.”

“You know about that?” Sam cried incredulously, trying to imagine how.

“Of course,” Frodo said, smiling brightly. “Remember, I told you before we left Crickhollow that I’d never again believe you were sleeping?”

“You were spying on me, you weasel!” Sam laughed, rolling up his blanket and throwing it at Frodo. The rest of the Fellowship gasped, never expecting this from Sam. Pippin and Merry squealed with horrified delight. Sam froze solid. What had he just done? He would never have considered doing that in the Shire. Frodo started for a minute in disbelief.

“Sam, you… you.. called me a weasel,” he stammered when he finally found his voice again. “And you threw the blanket at me, just like you used to do with your brothers!” He slowly moved over beside Sam, who cringed slightly, wondering what Frodo was going to do next. “That’s wonderful!” Frodo laughed, giving Sam a hug. “I was hoping you’d develop some boldness during the quest.”

“You liked it? Really, Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked, trying to process this information that sounded so surprising.

“I love it, Sam!” Frodo assured him, still laughing. “And I don’t hear anyone else complaining, do you?” He gestured around the cave. The rest of the Fellowship was still looking on, visibly impressed by what they had seen. The light-heart atmosphere still remained when they returned to their previous activities.

Sam reflected on everything that had happened that day. He had become sick and slowed down the quest. The others should have been annoyed with him for that, he thought. Instead, however, they showed only concern for him and it was during that time he discovered what difference he had made to Frodo. Then he had experienced what could have been a fatal reaction to a healing herb. That would have a lasting effect on anyone. It gave him this opportunity, however, to step out of character for a minute and find he was still loved and accepted, maybe even more than he had been before. He showed a side of his personality he never would have outside his home, or very seldom even outside his room that he shared with his brothers. His family would have disapproved strongly, but as Gimli had pointed out he was on his own now. His responsibilities were now to the Fellowship and to himself. The culture’s expectations were not withstanding anymore.

“Dinner time!” Pippin announced, his cheerful voice cutting into Sam’s reflections. The Hobbits eagerly grabbed their bowls and rushed over to the fire where Pippin was cooking. One thing hadn’t changed, and that was the Hobbits’ love for their meals. This meal tasted strange, however. Everyone grabbed at the water pitcher immediately after taking their first bites.

“Pippin, what did you put in this stew?” Aragorn asked, trying to sound causal when he noticed Pippin hadn’t tasted it yet.

“The usual things,” Pippin replied, becoming concerned when he noticed everyone’s reaction. “Dry meat, vegetables and this bag of mixed herbs.” As he held the bag he looked at label for the first time. “Oh no!” he gasped, turning as red as the residual powder that clung to the sides. “Oh my goodness no! This is cayenne powder! I got so distracted for a minute that I grabbed the wrong bag!”

“I see,” said Aragorn. “That would account for the…unusual taste.”

“I’m really sorry, everyone,” Pippin said, deeply embarrassed, “but the bags are identical in size and well….I didn’t expect the cayenne power to be in with the food supplies. I thought you just used it for making medicine, Strider.”

“Don’t ever assume,” the Ranger admonished, searching through the packs for a suitable alternative meal.

“Is it really that bad?” Pippin asked, trying to be a little hopeful. “Could everyone maybe just eat a little bit?”

“Pippin, I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” Frodo said gently, “but this stew is…” He finished his sentence in Elvish.

“What word did you use?” Aragorn cried in disbelief, spinning around to face the Hobbit.

“Well, at least I didn’t say….” Frodo repeated the words Aragorn had used when treating Sam’s allergic reaction.

“You speak Elvish, Master Frodo?” Legolas asked, seeming both impressed and amused by this revelation.

“Of course,” Frodo replied as if it should have been obvious from the beginning. “Bilbo speaks it well and I lived with him for a good part of my life, so naturally he taught it to me.”

Now it was Aragorn’s turn to be deeply embarrassed. “I let those kind words slip out when things go very wrong, and sometimes even when they go very right,” he said apologetically. “I would never use them ordinarily, especially around you Hobbits, but never it occurred to me that you understood, Frodo.”

“Don’t ever assume,” Pippin told him, with a twinkle in his eye as the rest of the Fellowship snickered good-naturedly.

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

Aragorn’s sleep was heavier than usual for the next two nights due the emotional tension he had been under. He would have, of course have woken instantly if there had been some kind of disturbance, but all ordinary sounds had been shut out. He awoke while it was still dark one morning and found to his surprise that he was alone. Legolas had been on watch duty that night, which accounted for his absence, but as Aragorn didn’t see the rest of Fellowship. Even Sam had gotten up, it seemed.

He shouldn’t have done that, Aragorn thought reproachfully. He seems to have recovered enough to move on, but still, I’ll have to talk to everyone about that. Now, where is everyone? Aragorn listened for a minute to see if he could their voices. He heard nothing, however and when he looked around the cave, he saw that all the equipment remained.

So what could have happened, he wondered, slightly concerned now.

Legolas’s voice rang out at that minute. “ORCS!” he cried, his shout echoing over the mountain.

Orcs? There were Orcs on the mountain? And had the others been taken? Without thinking for another second, Aragorn grabbed his sword and dashed outside only to have a pail full of snow dumped his head by Merry and Pippin who had been hiding on the top of the hill. The two young Hobbits shrieked with laughter. Sam, Frodo and Gimli jumped out from behind a boulder and they were laughing too. Then Aragorn saw Boromir and Gandalf pressed against the side of the cave, obviously in on the joke as well. His attention was focus one person, however.

“Legolas,” he hissed, uncertain whether to be angry or amused. “I am going to strangle you for this!”

“No, no, no!” the Elf cried in mock terror as Aragorn moved towards him. “It was those Hobbits, they made me do it!”

“Did they now?” the Ranger asked, as he turned and looked up at Pippin and Merry.

“Oh no, Strider! It was Frodo and Sam!” Merry protested pointing in their direction.

“And what do you have to say for yourselves?” the Ranger asked, pretending to be accusatory as he turned to Frodo and Sam.

“It was Mr. Frodo’s idea!” Sam said quickly, trying not to laugh. “He said we had get even with you for giving me the wrong kind of healing herb.”

“Oh right! Blame me that’s a good thing!” Frodo laughed.

“He’s right, Frodo, it was your idea,” Merry pointed out.

“I didn’t hear any objections from the rest you,” Frodo reminded them.

“Would I do that, Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked, pretending to be shocked. “Oh no, sir, that’s not place.”

“And what’s your excuse?” Frodo wanted to know, looking up at his cousins.

“We were brought up to respect our elders,” Pippin told him.

“Exactly,” Merry confirmed, sounding very serious. “We wouldn’t think of questioning or arguing with you, Frodo.”

“Oh go away!” Frodo laughed, throwing a snowball at them. Pippin and Merry, of course threw one back at him, then Sam got into the act. As Aragorn jumped back to avoid being caught in the crossfire, he began to laugh. The rest of the Fellowship laughed too as they watched the Hobbits square off, but Aragorn more than any of them. As he did, began to feel unburden and at peace with himself. All was indeed forgiven, he realized that without a doubt now and he forgave himself. Then he felt a snowball hit him.

Who could have done that, he wondered looking around. Legolas of course! It has to be him; he’s looking at me so innocently!

Aragorn threw the snowball back at Legolas when he wasn’t looking, and in less than a minute the whole Fellowship was drawn into the “fight.” Gandalf watched from a safe distance, amused by what he saw and pleased about the bonding that had taken place during this short time. But the sun was up and it was time to move on. “All right, everyone,” he called. No one heard him, however. They were all having too much fun. “People, we have to get breakfast and move on,” Gandalf called louder, but again no one seemed to notice, except Frodo and Pippin.

“Get Gandalf!” Pippin cried excitedly, throwing a snowball in Gandalf’s direction. The wizard easily stepped out the way and raised his staff. There was a flash of light, and the next second the snowball changed from white to blue. The rest of the Fellowship gasped when they noticed that the snowballs they were throwing had all changed to every colour in the spectrum.

“As I was saying,” Gandalf continued, now that he finally had everyone’s attention. “We to have go soon. We have a lot of ground to cover today.” Everyone nodded silently but no one moved.

“Gandalf, I haven’t seen you do anything like that since Bilbo’s last birthday party in the Shire,” Frodo gasped. “You used to change smoke rings different colours.”

“That was quite a party, wasn’t it Frodo?” Gandalf commented with a twinkle in his eye.

“Tell us all about it,” Aragorn invited, as the others gathered around eagerly.

“After we get moving again,” Frodo said firmly. The rest of the Fellowship scrambled to get everything done so they hear the story. Frodo winked at Gandalf. “I thought that would do the trick for you,” he whispered.