38.

            When the cherry and plum trees were white with bloom, the lawns rippling emerald and the daffodils in full blow, when the white narcissus nodded to their reflections in the ponds and the frogs and crickets sang of love in the evenings, when robin sparred with finch and bluebird with titmouse for laden pine boughs, when the trees unfurled their tender leaves and the ploughs turned up great furrows of rich brown earth, when the sun drifted westward in her course and bathed the streams and ponds in a mellow golden glow, a gaily colored waggon rolled into the square at Bree.  It had stretched over its high upper slats a green painted canvas, and at all four corners were tall poles sporting bright pennants bearing an ensign on green of crossed oak leaves.  And as though this were not unusual enough to cause the housewives to lean out their windows to look, and make the loungers at the fountain take their pipes from their lips in astonishment, leading its mules was a stout and smiling Dwarf; seated beside him was a small and discontented Halfling, and riding upon an enormous black horse at their side was a tall Elf with shining hair.  The Elf was singing, his clear warm voice ringing through the alleyways over the clatter of hooves on the cobblestones, and now and again the little Hobbit by the Dwarf’s side would look over at him, his eyes full of longing.

            As they rattled through the square the song ceased, and the Elf sat silent, his gray eyes lost in thought.  He had cast back his hood so that the brisk breeze stirred the flaxen tendrils of hair to float about his head, and fair though he was the men watched him with suspicion, for he was passing strange to them.  Of Dwarves they knew aplenty, but one of the Fair Folk was a mystery, unknown and uninvited.

            “Where is the Inn, Bandy?” asked the Dwarf.

            “On the east side of the square,” said Bandobras.  He looked over at his Master.  “Must I stay, Master?  For I truly, truly do not want to.”

            “For shame, Bandy!” chided Gimli.  “Do you not wish to see your mother again?   Think of how she has missed you!”

            “O I do indeed want to see Mother again,” said Bandobras quickly.  “I have missed her something terrible.  And I want to see Clementine and Celandine Took and Borgad Bolger and Madder Brandybuck and his sister Arnica, and Uncle Pip and Aunt Vinca and all.  But most of all I want to stay with you and my Master, and not stay behind in the Shire while you ride away and leave me.”  And his eyes filled up again with tears, as they had done at least once a day since they had quit Osgiliath two months before.

            The Elf edged his horse up to the side of the waggon and held out his arms silently to the little Hobbit; without a word Bandobras clambered into them and let his Master settle him down before him upon the broad bare back of the destrier.  So he sat and sniffled to himself, and Legolas held him close, while Gimli sat frowning with a fierce expression on his face, and blinking very rapidly.  After a moment he cleared his throat a few times, then said with forced cheerfulness:  “Ah, here it is!  The Prancing Pony.  This is where Pippin said they would be staying.”

            They rattled and jangled under the arch into the courtyard, and there, seated upon wooden benches beneath the swinging sign of the Inn, were Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took.  They both leapt to their feet with cries of delight when they saw whom the waggon bore, and rushed forward to greet them. 

            “At last!” cried Pippin, “we have been waiting three days here, just in case you arrived early.  My sister is nearly mad with anticipation and worry.  Bandy!  What a relief to see you, you little scalawag!  We had given you up for dead.”

            “O I am awful sorry, Uncle Pip,” said Bandobras contritely from his perch atop Piukka.  “I truly did not mean for my prank to go on so long – I only meant to make everyone sit up and take notice, so to speak.”

            “Well, they did at that,” said Meriadoc, taking the mules’ reins from Gimli as he dismounted.  “Threw the whole of Tuckborough and Buckland together into such an uproar as hasn’t been seen since old Bilbo disappeared.  We thought you’d gone to see Sam and Rosie Gamgee – wasted two whole days hunting for you in Hobbiton.  What on earth have you got up to, you scoundrel?  A good thing it is you ended up in the care of our friends here.”  And so saying he embraced Gimli.

            Legolas dropped lightly from Piukka’s back and set the little Halfling gently upon the cobblestones.  Then he knelt and took both Merry and Pippin into his arms, holding them tight.  “How glad I am to see you two again!” he said.  “It has felt longer than the span of time it took, even to me.”

            “That’s saying something then,” said Pippin cheerfully.  “Now let me at this truant nephew of mine.”  He took Bandobras by the shoulders and looked down into the younger Hobbit’s eyes, studying him carefully.  “Well, you don’t look any worse for the wear,” he said after a moment; “in fact you seem to me to be twice the Hobbit you once were.  Odds bodkins, Bandy; I am so glad to see you!”  And he embraced the Halfling roughly.

            “Come, come!” laughed Merry.  “Don’t keep him all for yourself, Pip.  You know Pearl’s been hopping up and down in frustration.  Let’s all get indoors and start the reunion.”

            “O no,” said Bandobras solemnly.  “I need to see to my Master’s things, first.  I am his esquire, you know.”

            The two other Hobbits stared at him in amazement, and Gimli hid his smile behind his hand.  But Legolas did not smile; instead he looked down gravely at his esquire.  “My dear Little One,” he said gently; “do you not see this good Hobbit who stands behind you, waiting only to take charge of our belongings?  It is his task to see to my horse and Gimli’s pony, and to our mules and the waggon; it is for that purpose he has been employed.  You know it is no longer your duty, my Bandobras; you must give this up to the ones who shall now serve us.”

            Bandobras looked up at his Master with brimming eyes, and turned to see the Halfling stable-hand, who stood deprecatingly in the shadow of the archway.  “Beggin’ your pardon, folks,” he said with a grin, tugging at his forelock, “but if’n you’ll jest go on in there, Master Butterbur’ll take you in charge, an’ I kin see to yer ponies.”  He looked a little apprehensively at Piukka, for his head barely reached that great destrier’s knees.  “Not given to buckin’, now, is he, sir?” he asked Legolas.

            “Not at all, my dear Hobbit,” Legolas assured him with a smile.  “My Piukka shall follow you in full obedience; he is a good horse.”

            Reassured the stable-hand took charge, and the companions quit him, though Pippin noticed Bandobras held tight to Legolas’ hand as they went.  As they were walking up the front steps to the Inn Merry asked:  “Where is Arod?”

            “At Dol Galenehtar,” said Legolas; “he ages, and I was loath to take him on such an extended trip.  So I am sending him to the outlying fiefdoms on stud service, to so improve the stock in Gondor.”

            “He really did need the holiday, too,” added Bandobras gravely.

            They laughed at this, though Bandobras did not know why; when they entered the Inn Butterbur himself stood there, wiping his hands on his apron and smiling nervously.

            “Welcome, welcome!” he said, his eyes darting from Gimli’s to Legolas’ faces.  “So these are your friends you were waiting for, Master Brandybuck?  Good, good!  I have rooms for you – quite close to the Little Folks’ rooms too – rather well-appointed, as I’m hoping you’ll agree, for those as don’t like ‘em we’ve got another suite prepared too, though it’s a tad more money – but here you’ve got a room, and a sitting room beside, all with comfortable chairs and a fireplace.  And food – I’ll send Nob to you; got a nice roast on the spit, and fresh bread, and beer besides – never heard no one to say nothing bad about my beer, not since Gandalf put that spell on it.”

            “Then I shall certainly try it, good innkeeper,” said Legolas to him politely.  “I am certain we shall find the accommodations exceptional; each traveler upon the Greenway to whom we spoke said naught but good things concerning your fare and hospitality here, and I know we shall be most contented.”

            “Beer sounds good, too,” said Gimli, his face brightening.  “We’ll have some of that straight off, if you please.”

            “Of course!  Nob!” shouted Butterbur.  “Nob!  Beer for the newcomers!  Make yourselves at home, gents; I’ll have Anson take your things in.  O, I almost forgot!” he said, turning at the doorway.  “Folks’ve been gathering nightly for the past week, gentlemen, awaiting your arrival; they’re hoping to foregather with you and hear news of the lands down south, if you will.  So come on into the common-room, if you please, after you’ve had a bite and a sup, and we’ll treat you right handsome.”

            Gimli glanced at Legolas, expecting him to object, however the Elf said graciously:  “Of course, good Innkeeper!  A tavern at the crossroads hears all news first, and yours shall be no exception.”

            Butterbur’s fat face brightened; he had been expecting this strange Elf-lord to refuse.  “Capital!” he cried.  “O just wait until I tell old Tom; he swore up and down you’d object to mixing with the likes of us, your Honor, but this’ll be a feather in my cap, I can tell you.”  So saying he bustled off, shouting for Nob at the top of his lungs.

            “Wonderful!” said Merry as they headed to their rooms.  “I didn’t realize you were so well versed in tap-lore, Legolas.”

            “I have seen my share of taverns, Merry,” admitted Legolas with a smile; “I know how hungry Men are for gossip, and the inns are the seats of news.”

            Suddenly there was a loud cry from down the dark hallway; a Hobbit-matron had exited her parlor, hearing voices; when she saw the group approaching she rushed up to them sobbing.  “Bandy, Bandy!” she said, and Bandobras ran into her outstretched arms.  She held him weeping, clutching him tightly; after a moment she held him at arm’s length and said:  “My little Bandy!  Look at you!  How tall you’ve gotten to be!”  And she embraced him again.

            “There we are, then!” said Pippin, looking a little abashed.  “Let’s go into the parlor, shall we, Pearl?  Then I can introduce you to our friends here.”

            The parlor room was high-beamed with white plaster walls, and a cheery fire crackled in the grate.  In it was an odd assortment of furnishings, being of various sizes to accommodate both Big Folk and Little Folk, and there was a Dwarf-sized chair for Gimli besides.  He looked about the room making contented hrrmph-ing noises in his throat, then rubbed his hands together.

            “Splendid!” he said.  “I feel I shall sleep well for the first time since we quit Gondor.”

            “Pearl,” said Pippin to his sister, “these are Legolas and Gimli, whom we told you about.  They’re not nearly so strange as they seem at first.  Chaps, this is my widowed sister Pearl, who keeps house for Merry and me.”

            Pearl turned at the hearth, her arm still curled protectively about her son’s shoulders; she looked up at Legolas with a defiant and stubborn expression upon her rosy face.  Seeing this Legolas sank to one knee before her and took one of her hands in his own.

            “Hail and well met, Mistress Took!” he said to her.  “For well over a year has my good little esquire spoken naught but superlatives of you; in his travels he has met many great and wondrous ladies and queens but you have ever been the chief lady in his heart, and it is with joy I return him to your care.”

            Pearl’s eyes softened, and she glanced down at Bandobras, who stood biting his lip and staring at his toes.  “Well, I thank you, then, Master Legolas, for taking such good care of him,” she said; “if he had to get lost at least he got found by the likes of you.”

            “A pleasure for me to meet you,” said Gimli, also taking her by the hand as Legolas rose to his feet.  “I tried as best I could to keep Legolas here from cossetting him overmuch; I fear I made little inroads but rest assured he does not seem to me to be too badly spoilt.”

            “O, I like that!” exclaimed Bandobras indignantly, and Gimli laughed and ruffled his brown curls.

            “Do not think so ill of me, Bandy!” he said.  “You know I take great pleasure in teasing you.  Besides ‘twixt the two of us, Legolas spoiling you and I shouting at you, I am sure we struck some good middle ground.  I at least believe you have turned out quite well.”

            “Do you really, Gimli?” asked Bandobras, looking up at him amazed.  “Well!  And here I thought I was naught but a thorn in your side.”

            “You were truly a thorn in my side,” laughed Gimli, “but it is those things we work hardest upon that we love the most dearly.”

            At this point Nob came in bearing a great tray of food, roast and cheese and bread and a large pitcher of beer.  When he had set it upon the table the group fell to as best they could, for with the odd-sized furniture it was a challenge to acclimatize themselves; however by placing the Hobbits upon high cushions and making Legolas to sit upon a pallet on the floor they were able to make do, though Bandobras loudly complained about the lack of mushrooms, and Legolas was then constrained to explain to Pearl how well he had eaten since Bandobras had taken charge of the food.  They ate and drank, making but desultory conversation, for it was obvious to all that Bandobras was discontented, and his mother disappointed; when at last even the Hobbits had eaten enough they sat back, and Merry, Pippin, Bandobras and Gimli lit their pipes.  Legolas sighed and turned to Pearl.

            “I had hoped, Mistress Pearl, to break Bandobras of this habit ere returning him to you; Gimli has encouraged him however, and I fear my efforts were fruitless.”

            “Well, that’s not so bad now,” said Pearl.  A few glasses of beer had mellowed her considerably, and seeing how gently the Elf treated her son went far to convince her he had been a worthy master.  “His Dad smoked too, and though he’s a tad young to have contracted the habit I don’t think it’ll hurt him much.”

            “If you think this is bad, Legolas, wait ‘til we get into the common-room,” laughed Merry.  “It’s naught but smoke in there.”

            “You needn’t go in if you would rather not,” said Gimli seriously to his friend.  “I am certain these Men have seen few if any of your folk; you shall be a curiosity to be stared at and whispered about, and I would not have you made uncomfortable.”

            “That will concern me not,” shrugged Legolas.  “Have I not been but a curiosity to most folk since I set out traveling with you three, Gimli, Merry, and Pippin?  Save in Lothlórien only have I been the sole Elf in company with many mortals; my skin is not so thin that I shall find their interest a burden.”

            They went into the common-room after that, though Pearl insisted she keep Bandobras back in the parlor, saying, “Now, that’s no place for either a female or a child, so if it’s all the same to you gentlemen I’ll just put him to bed.”  Bandobras’ protests availed little save to win Legolas’ assurances he would look in on him before going to bed himself; it was only then he consented, though with an ill grace, to staying in the parlor with his mother.  As Gimli had indeed predicted Legolas was greeted cautiously and eyed from a discreet distance; however after some time, when his smiling and benevolent face, and light and infectious laughter, had overcome their sensibilities the Dwarf was astonished to find Legolas seated comfortably at another table with Pippin, two other Hobbits and several local Men, discussing crop rotation and the best way to construct a two-ox plough; in one hand was a tankard of beer, and with the other he scratched Butterbur’s cat behind its ears as it purred in ecstasy. 

            Soon someone called for a story, and despite Legolas’ laughing remonstrations Gimli stood by the hearth and gave, in a deep and rolling voice, a full description of Legolas’ deeds upon the lists and the fields of Amon Din; this met with such astonished delight amongst the crowd they peppered Legolas with questions, which he answered with an easy grace.

            “Nay, I know not whether Híldaf and Éodild shall be wed; Híldaf must needs begin his apprenticeship anew, and that will mean five years beneath Walda.  Belecthor?  He has retired to Minas Tirith for now; there is talk of his overseeing another tournament this autumn.  Yes, Kaimelas has recovered, though not completely; he shall ever have a weakness about his lungs, I fear; I shall keep him close to home and watch over him most carefully.  Nay, I did not see Brytta of Rohan again; when we stopped in Meduseld he was not in King Éomer’s court.  Eradan?  Yes, he was indeed hung, I fear; King Elessar erected a gibbet in the square of Osgiliath and there he was summarily executed for his many heinous crimes.  O aye!  Hallas of Lossarnach and Dirhael Orodreth’s charge were married last winter, and already she is looking forward to producing Baldor a grandchild this autumn.  Indeed yes; the farmsteads have been rebuilt and the ploughs are at work as we speak, so that the fields of the Pelennor, and those west of the River to Amon Din shall once again blush green with wheat, oats and barley.  My own fiefdom?  Well, we have many hectares of vineyards and olive groves; that and the building of our city shall take up much of my time when I return.  O but of course, gentles all; should you desire to brave the miles you shall be most welcome there; I shall refuse no travelers from my gates.”

            At last the fire burned dim, and Butterbur called Time; the patrons filtered out, and Legolas stood, stretching his tall frame up so that his fingertips grazed the plaster ceiling.  Merry and Pippin smiled up at him.

            “Well, you have made Butterbur quite a triumph this evening, Legolas!” said Pippin.  “I do not think he has had such a full house in many years.”

            “Indeed no!” said Merry with a laugh.  “Not since we came back from the War at any rate.”  Then he too stretched, and capped it with a tremendous yawn.  “I think it is time for us to retire,” he said, rising to his feet.  “Look! Gimli is already nodding.  I think we ought to roll him to your rooms, Legolas.”

            The three friends took the drowsy Dwarf beneath the arms and lifted him; he blinked and said, “What excellent beer!” and managed to totter down the hallway.  They dropped him upon his bed, and ere they left Pippin said to the Elf:

            “Now don’t forget, Legolas, you promised to look in on my nephew before you went to bed.”

            “I have not forgotten,” smiled Legolas, loosening the fastenings of his collar.  He stood before the unshuttered window, the starlight falling upon his pale head and reflecting back the heavenly light as an aureole; for the first time that evening the Hobbits were struck anew by his strangeness.  Pippin swallowed.

            “Legolas,” he said, “what are you going to do about Bandy?”

            Legolas looked at him in surprise.  “Do?  What mean you, Pippin? I have brought him back as I promised; I do not propose to take him again from his poor mother.  Gimli and I shall leave without him.”  As he said this he looked very sad, and Pippin’s heart turned over.  He stepped over to the Elf and took his hand.

            “Bandy won’t be a child forever, you know,” he said; “he’s but a few years shy of the age I was when I set out with Frodo.  Just because you leave him now doesn’t mean you must leave him forever.”

            Legolas looked down at him smiling; then he sank to his knees and embraced Pippin warmly.  “Thank you, inestimable Took!” he said, kissing the Hobbit on the cheek.  “You lighten my heavy heart immeasurably.  I had feared that once he were recovered his family should never be persuaded to release him to me again.”

            “Well, I’ll have to work on Pearl a bit,” admitted Pippin; “I wouldn’t mention it to her just yet – she’ll need to get over being so relieved he’s back, you know.  But just wait ‘til he’s in his ‘tweens and she’ll be glad enough to let you have him for a time.”

            “You may not want him by then, though,” added Merry.  “But it’ll be a good time for you to take him on as a proper esquire – he’ll need some firm guidance, and a lot of hard work; I’ll wager you can give him a lot of both.”

            “I shall think on it,” said Legolas, rising.

            “Will you chatter all night, or desist and let a poor tired Dwarf get a little sleep?” growled Gimli from his bed.  “I would have thought you would be tired of talk by now.”

            “Elves never grow tired of talk!” laughed Legolas.  “But I do apologize, Gimli; I shall take my conversation elsewhere.  Good-night, Merry, Pippin; we shall see you tomorrow; I am going to look in on my little Bandobras, and then check Piukka and Thistle and the mules.”

            “Good-night, then!” said the Hobbits, and went to their own rooms.

            Legolas and Gimli stayed one month in Arnor; after two nights in Bree they went to Crickhollow, and then on to Tuckborough, where they were presented as heroes and rescuers before the Great Took himself; after this they went up to Hobbiton and stayed with Sam and Rose Gamgee, much to the dismay of the tenants in New Row, who had hoped with the disappearance of “the last odd Baggins” that Bag End would no longer house strange and outlandish folk.  Then for a week Legolas left them to hunt in the woods of the White Downs, seeking out those of his own kind who wandered alone, to so convince them to go with him to Gondor.  But when he returned his face was downcast and he seemed very sad.

            “What is it, Legolas?” asked Sam anxiously, while Elanor climbed up on the Elf’s lap, and Rosie went to fetch him a cup of tea.  “Could you not find any Elves about?”

            “They would not come,” he said; “they press westward instead, to wait for Círdan at the Havens; they mourn for days lost and have no interest in the peoples of Middle-Earth any longer.  They would not come with me.”

            However it was not in his blithe nature to remain so sad; by the following day he was more himself, and so encouraged Elanor in her depredations that Rosie in frustration drove them out of doors to play in the party-field.  There Gimli sat, his back against the little mallorn, smoking his pipe with Sam, while Legolas romped with Elanor and her playmates until the sun set; then they came in for a late tea, the Hobbit-child already slumbering upon the Elf’s shoulder, his flower-strewn hair cast about her like a cloak.

            At last the daffodils faded, and the sky paled, and the rich earth of the fields put forth green shoots, and it was time for the two friends to leave.  They bid good-bye to Sam, promising him many letters and imploring Rosie to allow him to visit them; they rode to Crickhollow to collect the mules and their waggon, and to say a last good-bye to Merry and Pippin and Pearl, and especially to Bandobras.  The little Hobbit was disconsolate, and wept when Legolas embraced him, clinging to him so tightly with his small arms Gimli thought he would have to pry him off; at last he let go and stood back to watch his Master mount Piukka, and with many waves and cries of “Good-bye, good-bye!” the Elf and the Dwarf at last rode up the lane to the Brandywine Bridge to join the Great Road there.  They rode in silence with but the chirping and chattering of the morning birds their only accompaniment, Thistle’s little hooves clippety-clopping, and Piukka’s great feet thuddity-thudding.  After some time Gimli looked over at his friend, and was grieved but not over-surprised to see tears glimmering afresh in Legolas’ bright eyes.

            “Be not so sad, dear Legolas,” he said gently; “we shall return anon and bring the little miscreant back to Gondor with us.  We have only to wait some years for him to be old enough, and I am certain his mother will let him come to visit a while.”

            “In the meantime however shall I miss him greatly,” sighed Legolas sadly.  “Though he cast but a little light, being but a very small person, bereft of that glow I fear I shall find my life the dimmer.”

            “Well then so shall I,” admitted Gimli gruffly; had he expected his friend to tease him on this point he was disappointed, though Legolas did at least smile, which was gratifying.  They rode in companionable quiet for a time, and when they stopped to water the horses Gimli said, “You did not mean it, did you, Legolas, when you said you would take him on as your esquire again?  That will mean five years with him in your service, and it will be a burden on you I fear, for you have much yet to do for Dol Galenehtar, for its construction and maintenance.  Training him in the knightly arts shall be yet one more load for you to bear.”

            “But I require an esquire, Gimli,” said Legolas solemnly, stroking Piukka’s flanks as the horse drank.  “All knights must needs have an esquire about, if not for the esquire’s benefit then for their own.”

            “You are not truly a knight of Gondor though,” said Gimli.
            “But I am the Green Knight,” said Legolas, “and that entails an esquire; the Green Knight is a strange knight perhaps, but that only necessitates yet a stranger esquire, does it not?”

            “O I suppose!” grumbled Gimli.  “And I suppose you shall pamper and spoil and over-indulge the little urchin so that he is stranger yet, and completely useless as a proper esquire!”

            “Ah!” laughed Legolas.  “But that is my privilege as an Elven Prince.  I place my feet in two worlds, dear Gimli; one in the frantic mortal world of Men, and one in my own staid and sedate lands.  It has ever been so for me.  Chide me not, my friend; I have so few bad habits, you must let me indulge in my fondness for spoiling little children.”

            “I would rather you simply took up smoking!” said Gimli peevishly.

            “No chance of that!” said Legolas with a laugh, and led Piukka back to the Road.

A/N:  Well, it's been a long time coming, hasn't it?  Thanks to all of you who have enjoyed this story enough to write such kind and glowing reviews . . . and thanks to those of you who have enjoyed it, plain and simple, the way I expected it to be enjoyed.  This has been a bit of an albatross for me, but I'm sure, after the initial elation at having finished it wears off, I'll be pining for a sequel . . . we shall see!

Le Rouret