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But Merry surprised Pippin by pulling him close, in turn, and whispering, 'Gandalf did not want the art of fireworks to disappear from Middle-earth when he did so, and it seems he thought long and hard on the matter. He decided in the end that the Dwarves were a shade too aggressive to have the secret, though I'd've argued with him that they'd never use the stuff in delving or mining, not after hearing Gimli talk about their art. That said, his greatest concern was that Men might misuse the stuff, and he said – in the letter, that is...' 'The letter you burned,' Pippin clarified. 'That's right, the letter I burned,' Merry answered, drawing a curious look from a passerby. He took Pippin's arm and drew him further away from the other hobbits nearest them and added in a whisper, 'He said that Strider agreed with him.' 'And the Elves?' Pippin said, keeping his own voice low. Merry shook his head. 'The Elves would have no use for it,' he said. 'I think old Gandalf had the right of it, there.' But he maintained his grip on Pippin's arm. 'Strider knows because Gandalf told him,' he said in a low voice that was almost lost in the celebration surrounding them, Shire-folk walking from the racecourse back into the town, chattering about the wonders they'd just seen. 'But it's got to stay a secret, Pip! For Gandalf has given the Shire-folk a great treasure, and he trusts us to hold it secret, that Men and Dwarves will not guess its true nature...' 'Gimli would guess, I should think,' Pippin argued. 'We don't want rogue Men waylaying hobbits in hopes of learning the secret!' Merry insisted, and Pippin suddenly went still as this thought hit home. 'No,' he said slowly. 'I suppose we don't.' He blinked solemnly and added, 'It will be enough that they may marvel at the beauty of the fireworks shining in the sky, and never know the terrible power of the stuff behind it...' Suddenly his gaze sharpened, and he stared into Merry's eyes. 'Perhaps Gandalf ought to have taken the secret with him over the Sea,' he said. 'Are hobbits to be trusted with such knowledge?' Merry started to answer, but the words caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, then said, 'I think hobbits proved themselves to the old fellow, proved themselves and their trustworthiness. For Frodo and Sam took a little ring, the least of rings, to the edge of the Fire; something even the Great were unwilling to attempt...' The younger cousin stood very still, and then he nodded. 'The secret is safe with me, Merry,' he said. 'You can rest assured.' 'I know I can,' Merry said, punctuating this thought with a hug. […Oh Man. To think that it is MERRY and PIPPIN talking about this. heeheehaha. I would say they have grown though. In more ways than one. heh. But I never considered this, but it does make sense.] *** And Pippin kept his word, even to the point of acting astonished when, after he'd come of age, old Merimac solemnly informed him of the great privilege and heavy responsibility the White Wizard had levied upon the Brandybucks. 'Black powder? You don't say!' 'No, lad,' Merimac rumbled. 'The point I'm making is that you don't say!' 'Of course I won't!' Pippin answered, and Merry slapped his younger cousin on the back with a grin. Old Merimac didn't know the half of it. And, knowing Pippin, the old hobbit would never find out, either.

The remark passed right over the passenger’s head, as it were, and he didn’t even think about it until later. [heehee] Wow. Nice story.

'I am undone – I, who swore an oath to defend the Tooks and Tooklanders... and now I send them out, to die for me? What presumption! [He sounds even more like Denethor in that onestory that I can’t place] and Eglantine, drawn by the movement, saw one of them send his bow cartwheeling high into the air and catch it again [What! There is Éomer and Rohirrim blood in this hobbit! Heehee] Below them, the waters of the Tuckbourn shone like silver, and the sound of joyous singing wafted to them from the courtyard of the Great Smials and the streets of Tuckborough below, from the archers to either side of them and from the top of the great hill. Joy welled up in Eglantine's heart, from what source, she could not tell, but when she looked deeply into Paladin's eyes, she saw a reflection of her own elation. 'It is going to be all right,' the Thain whispered, his voice incredulous. [This sounds like Faramir and Éowyn on Minas Anor! heehee]

Bergil looks to me in protest, and I assume the proper expression for a Guardsman of the Citadel, when duty is the topic of discussion. ‘Go on, son.’ … He is afraid, the first few nights, to sleep. The Captain [Boromir???] has given me several days to set my affairs in order. A wet nurse is found, and I send Borlas to her house, to her family. Bergil will go to relatives, for I cannot keep him with me. But the first few nights, I stay with him, in our little home, the home that was ours in a happier time, the home that is no more, its heart gone. I hold him close while he weeps, and my own tears flow freely. Half of my life, my self has been wrested from me, and the boys are all I have to remember her by. He allows me to hold him, indeed, he grasps me with all his strength, and yet I have the feeling he is holding something back. [His wife dying is rather like Finduilas, that it was caused partly by the 2nd son, and his name is Borlas, etc.] … You sent me away,’ he says, drawing himself up to his full height, and speaking so sternly that the Lord Denethor would be hard put to rival him for severity. [that must be very severe indeed.] You sent me away,’ he says once more. ‘Promise me that you’ll never do so again.’ For he knows that with a man of his word, a promise made is a promise kept. [And he didn’t. Only 5 year old Borlas. Wow. Bergil can certainly be serious.] .. The memory returns as Bergil faces me, standing as tall as his ten years will allow, defiance in every line. ‘Don’t send me away!’ he says. ‘Borlas...’ I begin. ‘Borlas may go off with the wains, with the women and babes, but not I!’ ‘Bergil,’ I say. ‘Who is to say that they will be any safer in the hills, in any event?’ he says. ‘Then you must go, to guard your brother,’ I say, but he shakes his head, and brings to bear the weapon that I cannot counter. ‘You promised.’ I stop. A promise made is a promise kept. If I keep my word, I doom him to the City, soon to be attacked by the forces of the Dark Lord. They are on the march even now; our scouts have reported it. They will be here soon. Hopefully our reinforcements will be here sooner. Will the Rohirrim come? Will I keep my word, and doom my son? Or will I assume the mantle of oathbreaker, one who cannot be trusted, who cannot trust even himself, in order to consign my son to whatever safety might be found outside the City walls? If any? A promise made... [Ah. Got ahead of myself. Practice Beregond, for the next couple months. Or say not out of promises, but out of love, for which you tried to save Faramir. For you will be oathbreaker once more.]

There was but one thing to be done, for some of the wolves were already leaping at the upended coach, some of them tearing at the coach itself, and if any of them should gain purchase, and be able to reach Goldi, on this precarious perch... Drawing his sword, Farry jumped down, ignoring Goldi’s fresh scream at his peril, and he waded into the fray. [Why does that part sound like Beauty and the Beast?] Side Note: I have never read a grown up Farri and Goldi before, or at least in a while.

‘That’s right,’ Celandine piped up. She was among the littlest of the lasses there, for the younger ones were kept under the stern eye of governesses and tweens. ‘Dod asked Father when he could have a boat of his own, because grandfather just gave cousin Merimas a boat on his birthday, and Father said, “When the King comes back.” And,’ she added importantly, ‘That means never, you know.’ Pearl sobered briefly. Seredic had been the one to pull Primula, Frodo’s mum, from the water after she’d drowned. But she forced a smile for the little one’s sake, and said gently, ‘That’s right, dear.’ ‘But if the Queen is married to the King...’ Pervinca said, still puzzling over the idea. ‘...we have the Queen, but... where’s the King?’ There was a general confusion then, for the lasses had not thought of this! But of course, for a wedding a couple was needed! [aha …oh. And when they remember.] Pippin, she decided. He was the smallest of them, barely old enough not to be tied to his mother’s apron strings. He’d probably tagged after Merry, and Merry, attached to the little lad as he was, had been happy for his company […Oh No. Not another Pippin/Estella story!?] Is that the best you could come up with?’ she said, hands on her hips. ‘He’s still wet behind the ears!’ ‘I am not!’ Pippin said, indignant. ‘I didn’t even wash behind my ears today!’ At the gale of laughter that washed over him, he tried again to pull his hand out of Mentha’s, to escape, to no avail. He was surrounded, and they were seizing him from all sides, and some of them had sharp claws, and he thought for a panicked moment of Bilbo and the goblins. But there was no escape, and though he struggled as well as he may (hampered by Merry’s instruction that he must never hit a lass), he soon found himself stretched out on the floor, his hands tied together behind him, and when he looked to see who it was, tying his ankles together... ‘You, too, Pearl?’ he said in despair. [hee hee. Hoho, Pearl, Pimpernel, I didn’t think of that.] ‘It’s just so you stay put a few moments, until we’re ready,’ she said with a practical smile. ‘And so we don’t mislay you.’ ‘But...’ he said, desperate, and then inspiration struck, though he’d never have thought to use this excuse when he was with the lads. ‘But Mum wants me!’ ‘Of course she does,’ Pearl said, to placate him, ‘but she said that we could borrow you for a bit, first … [Inspired Pippin] …. They’re in the summerhouse,’ Rosamunda said, when the outrage was brought to her attention. As valuable jewels had been taken, along with the rest, it was deemed that the fathers ought to be brought into the affair, and so the gaffers and dads and tween sons were disturbed from their stone-casting contest, to be dragged along. And so it was, when they came, that they found Pearl officiating over a wonderful wedding, with many wedding guests in fantastic costumes, dripping with pearls and drooping feathers, gowned and gloved, powdered and studded with jewellery, all very “fine” to the eye. The adults had come very quietly up to the summerhouse, as quietly as hobbits can go (and they go very quietly indeed). And so, as they peered through the windows, there were a number of grins as well as gasps. Poor Pippin stood in the grip of two of the largest lasses, fixed in his place beside an astonishing creature that might have been of faerie origin, so fantastic was her appearance. ‘...until I've drunk the last drop in the cup, and no more days remain to me...’ Estella was intoning in a high, clear voice. ‘And that’s that,’ Pearl said, satisfied. ‘I didn’t say it!’ Pippin wailed. ‘I didn’t say it, and you can’t make me say it!’ ‘That’s all right, lad, Mentha said it for you,’ Pearl said, and several of the fathers snorted. ‘Then Mentha may be married to Stella, but I won’t!’ Pippin shouted. Several of the mums snorted at this. Odovacar nudged Paladin Took. ‘You know,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘They do make a striking couple.’ [heehee. Oh no. THIS is where he gets the idea?]

Oh! Awwwwww If only you had said whether she looked like Galadriel, Celeborn, or Arwen…JK.

hohum. Faramir needs someone to represent him on the march.

Oh Farry…or should I say congratulations Samwise and Pergrin!

Oh my. Interesting. Does Merry and son come?

Oh my. This reminded me of the Boromir Lives…and even more the Boromir/Théodred ghost continuation. Do you know when the Boromir Lives will be added to?

Oh my. I wonder who took it over.

That's so thoughtful of Gandalf to leave down the secret to Merry and counted on him to keep the tradition. 'But it's got to stay a secret, Pip! For Gandalf has given the Shire-folk a great treasure, and he trusts us to hold it secret, that Men and Dwarves will not guess its true nature... I never thought of that! That is so clever for you think of. THe whole premise of the story is very creative. Awesome job!

What a creative tale! I enjoyed this very much.

What a thoughtful parting gift from Gandalf! What a sweet story about fireworks, delving and mining :) I hope you are feeling better.

Boromir and the hobbits--how delightful! I found my way here through your link about the mushroom soup. I'm glad I did. I liked how you described the hobbits noticing Boromir was unwell and taking care of him.

That was lovely!!! 🥰🥹 Thank you ever so much for sharing it with me!!! I miss Frodo too, Pippin and Sam. And lovely Bill! All dressed up for a party! What a lovely thing to think about. You brightened my otherwise very dark and dreary day. Thank you. 💗

I am crying as I write this. Next week is what would have been our 50th wedding anniversary had I not lost him nearly 2 years ago. You have captured so well what I truly believe will be our reunion in heaven. Thank you more than you can imagine.

I rejoice that the animals are there, too, to rejoice in the delight of reunion in such a site and activity! How I miss so many dogs and cate and others I've loved over the years, and look forward to seeing them once more when the time comes. Thanks so for this gift, and for the time we spent together today. May we again find equilibrium in the coming days and months. And may I finally get over this cursed cough!

This wonderful story made my cry. I am missing my husband so very much. I know he is waiting and the family reunion will be glorious. I still need reminders as provided by your work. Thank you more than you will ever know.

Oh my friend, this is lovely. May such a joyous reunion be so for all of us, and our beloved furry children. Then another voice breaks into the conversation. ‘Hullo Sam! You haven’t hurried, have you?’ Wonderful line. :) (Sorry, my first review got cut off.)

Oh my friend, this is lovely. May such a joyous reunion be so for all of us, and our beloved furry children. Wonderful line. :)

Ah, how we all are inspired by others! The King HAS returned, but footpads still need to be dealt with in the here and now!

I am crying. This is so touching.

This is utterly fantastic and so moving. I love that Aragorn and Beregond met before the battle.