As Frodo-lad and Bilbo led Bellas away to be brushed, and stabled
with their ponies, Gimli retrieved his satchel of personal
belongings from the cart. Frodo, Rosie, and Sam escorted him
inside, where a burst of excited chatter could be heard from the
direction of the kitchen -- accompanied by a loud clattering of
dishes. Rosie headed determinedly in that direction while Frodo
and Sam showed Gimli to their best guestroom.
“Make yourself at home, and take your time,” Sam told him. “The children won’t starve if lunch is a bit late... although you’d never know it from the clamor at mealtimes.”
Gimli chuckled. “I’ll be along as soon as I change, and wash off some of this travel dust.”
Once he was alone, he unpacked a few things before cleaning himself in an adjoining, and well-stocked, bathing room where water was conveniently pumped in. Then he changed his tunic, replaced his heavy boots with a lighter pair, and – most importantly – brushed out his beard and ensured that each braid was in order.
On his way to the dining room, Gimli passed many large and small chambers on each side of the wide passage that ran the length of Bag End. Many of the rooms used by Bilbo Baggins for wardrobes and storage had long since been converted into bedrooms for the children. Two dining areas had also been expanded into one large one, and the kitchen and pantries enlarged. Bag End, although much smaller and less complex than the Tooks’ ancestral Great Smials, was nonetheless spacious, comfortable, and full of light from the many windows set into the south side of the hole.
Up ahead, he saw two of the pups disappearing into the dining room. Being hobbity dogs, he (correctly) assumed that the rest were eagerly assembled and awaiting their fair share of the lunch.
The room was quickly filling up with hobbit lads and lasses when Gimli walked in. He didn’t argue when Rosie steered him to the head of the long table, a guest’s honored place, with Sam on one side of him and Frodo on the other. The table was set for thirteen, a number that made him smile. Young Robin, surrounded by pups all wagging their tails, was setting down a number of bowls filled with meat scraps.
“That’s Dora, Uncle Gimli,” Ruby said, pointing to the largest (and relatively calmest) dog. “She’s the mama.”
As Gimli was sitting down, Bilbo and Frodo-lad rushed in, relieved that they hadn’t missed anything.
“We brushed Bellas as far up as we could reach, Uncle Gimli,” Bilbo said, “and there’s plenty to eat and fresh water. He’s rather grand, isn’t he? Do you think he’ll mind sharing quarters with ponies?”
“Not at all, lad,” Gimli assured him. “He’ll be glad of both the company and sweet Shire grain in his belly.”
For a few minutes the room was awhirl with hobbit lasses wheeling in cunning carts from the kitchen. They set the food up and down the table, took their seats and looked expectantly towards their father.
Sam smiled at everyone, then raised his glass to Gimli.
“Our dear friend, please consider Bag End your home for as long as you are with us. We’ll try to keep the children quiet, the pups out from underfoot, and your every day one of peace and joy.”
Frodo raised his glass as well, looking as contented as anyone Gimli had ever seen. What a large and loving family he had found!
“Gimli, we can’t tell you how happy we are to have you here,” Frodo said. “We appreciate you travelling so far to see us.”
The children all cheered.
“Bag End is rather empty just now,” Sam said seriously, motioning to a few empty chairs. “Merry, Pippin, and Hamfast are off apprenticing; we hear good things about all of them. Elanor just had her first little one, named Elfstan. We visited with them just last month.”
“Elfstan, eh?” Gimli said. “An unusual name for a hobbit.”
Everyone was occupied for a few minutes as the bowls and platters were passed around. When Frodo offered him a dish of sliced pickles, Gimli accepted with enthusiasm.
“Rosie, I’m sure the King and Queen have written that your pickles are as valued in the Citadel as Silmarils,” he said to her with a grin. “I suspect they could be used for currency, should Aragorn be willing to part with any – which he is not.”
Rosie smiled happily. “I have a new batch in crocks in the second pantry. I’m pleased they’re appreciated!”
Gimli noticed that Frodo-lad perked up when he heard the word ‘Silmarils’. Indeed, Sam had written that the boy was a scholar of their tale, and was particularly fascinated by the Lady’s star-glass.
Before he dug into the mountain of delicious foods on his plate, Gimli raised his own glass.
“My friends, I am delighted to be here, and welcomed so warmly. I brought gifts for all--” The younger children whooped with excitement. “And Frodo-lad, congratulations on your coming-of-age. The King and Queen send their greetings as well.”
Frodo-lad beamed, and a few of the children clapped.
“Sam and Rosie, all of your children are a credit to you. May your family be ever blessed.”
There were more cheers, then everyone settled in for some serious eating.
Gimli, tucking into roasted chicken, garden vegetables, fresh bread, warm, chunky applesauce, pickles, and something called ‘potato salad’, wondered how Sam and Rosie managed to feed this multitude every day. This was no palace feast, it was a normal luncheon at Bag End!
“Sam,” he said, “Your larder must need reprovisioning daily! Forgive my curiosity, but however do you manage?”
“Rosie and I would never have dared try for so many children if we couldn’t manage it, Gimli,” Sam assured his friend. “Mr. Bilbo gave me a bit of his dragon treasure before we left Rivendell, and he brought Frodo what he had left before sailing off with Gandalf and the Elves. And then Frodo insisted on sharing his income from rents and all, and Strider and Lady Arwen sent word that we both had earned a ‘stipend’ for ‘services rendered’ or some such... well, you’ve no need to worry, Gimli. We’ve been blessed indeed, and no mistake.”
“I am relieved, and delighted,” Gimli announced, helping himself to a third portion of potato salad. “This is new to me, and absolutely delicious.”
“Thank you, Gimli,” Rose said. “I’ll make sure you take the recipe home with you.”
There seemed no end to all the things Frodo, Gimli, and Sam needed to share with one another over lunch. After awhile, the three friends realized that the room had quieted and they were nearly alone. One by one, the children had cleared away empty dishes, gone off to do chores, or visit with friends. Only Frodo-lad remained behind, unable to tear himself away from hearing news of far-off places.
“Gimli, you might not know that Frodo-lad’s practically taken over the gardens,” Sam said, smiling proudly at his son. “He’s learned everything my gaffer and I ever knew, and then some.”
“I love it, Dad, and you know that Tom and Bilbo help out a lot,” Frodo-lad insisted. “Growing food for the table, and having enough left over to sell or trade... what could be more satisfying?”
“I always felt the same way, my boy,” Sam said.
“Uncle Gimli, do you want to see the gardens?” Frodo-lad asked hopefully.
“I certainly do,” Gimli said, getting to his feet. “First, though, perhaps you can help me bring everything in from the cart.”
“Enjoy your afternoon, Gimli,” Sam called after them as Frodo-lad and Gimli left the room. “Tea is at four!”
“My goodness.” Gimli shook his head in admiration as he patted his full belly. “Hobbits really are remarkable, as Gandalf said.”
“I wish I’d met Gandalf,” Frodo-lad sighed. “I wish I’d met everyone Uncle Frodo and Dad and old Bilbo wrote about.”
He and Gimli went outside and worked together to empty the cart of its parcels and bundles, then stack them in the parlor. There was one small crate Gimli opened at once, using a tool from his belt. Within it, wrapped in thick padding, was another, even smaller crate, surrounded on all sides by thick padding. He opened that as well, retrieved a well-wrapped bundle, and carried it carefully back to his room. The boy was obviously intensely curious about what the Dwarf had brought with him, but asked no questions -- something Gimli noted with satisfaction.
Frodo-lad showed Gimli around the many lush gardens; vegetables, fruit trees, and flowers grew in abundance, but in a well-planned and quite eye-pleasing way.
“You have an artistic sense, my boy,” Gimli said with admiration. “Almost Dwarvish, and that’s quite the compliment.”
“Thank you,” Frodo-lad said happily. It was gratifying to have the subtleties of his efforts noticed by their guest. “Come, I’ll show you something special.” He brought the Dwarf through the gardens and along one of the beautifully-manicured paths that swept up and around Bag End. Then down they went from the sunlit path, descending a series of carved steps leading into a gully behind The Hill. The quiet, wooded area was cool and shaded.
“Here it is,” Frodo-lad said, steering Gimli around a large tree. “Dad and Frodo said it looks a lot like the place where the Lady’s mirror stands. What do you think?”
Gimli looked around the small grotto, complete with a clear pool fed by a tiny spring that Frodo-lad had dug out. Set into the ground was a pedestal about waist-high, upon which rested a polished stone bowl filled with water. Gimli looked up. Sure enough, a large circle of sky was open to the west, unhindered by any of the encircling trees. In the evening, Eärendil’s bright star would be clearly visible.
“I never saw the Lady’s mirror myself,” he told the boy, “that honor was reserved for your father and Frodo alone. This is a lovely place, though, and I’m sure they guided you well in creating it.” He examined the bowl. “This is quite well made. Where did you get it?”
“Dwarves came through last year with some wonderful things for sale. Dad said that since I was nearly of age, I could do my own negotiating,” Frodo-lad said proudly. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Gimli nodded in agreement. That the bowl was of Dwarvish origin had been immediately obvious to him. Its simple shape could not disguise the expert craft that went into its carving.
“I like it here,” Frodo-lad said, gazing around him. “I like to think about the Lady and what she was like... still is like, that is.” He sighed. “I know it will sound silly, but I’ve tried to... capture starlight here like she did for Uncle Frodo. Can you imagine how wonderful that would be? Uncle Frodo even let me bring his star-glass to see if the basin could hold onto that light, but it doesn’t work at all.”
“I do wish you could have met the Lady, my boy,” Gimli said. “Her powers and wisdom shone as brightly as her beauty and compassion. She lives in my heart, always.” He nodded to himself, convinced that he had made the right decision. It was no small thing, to reveal a Dwarvish secret.
“The Lady’s gifts were well given, and what your Uncle Frodo and father accomplished are beyond all praise,” he said quietly. “You may know that they were named Elf-friends, which Legolas son of Thranduil tells me is quite an honor.”
“I know,” Frodo-lad nodded.
“But there are two things you do not know,” Gimli said. “To be named a Dwarf-friend is an equal honor, and a rare one at that.”
“Is it?” Frodo-lad asked eagerly. “What’s the second thing, Uncle Gimli?”
Gimli leaned closer to the boy, and spoke in a hushed tone.
“There is more than one way to capture a star.”
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