All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken:
The crownless again shall be king
“I made that up myself,” [Bilbo] whispered to Frodo, “for the Dúnadan, a long time ago when he first told me about himself.”
The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘The
Council of Elrond’
Thalguron was waiting at the door when his captain arrived
back at the house. Aragorn handed the sleeping tween
down to him, then dismounted and helped Bilbo to the
ground. Scamp, who had been frisking about the yard,
started whining and yipping when she saw Frodo.
“He’s safe at home, little pup,” Thalguron said with a smile.
“Is all well?” Aragorn asked as he and Bilbo followed Thalguron into the warm house, lit softly by lamps and hearth fires.
“Nothing eventful to report, Captain,” Thalguron said with a grin. He led the way into the parlor, and Aragorn and Bilbo smiled at the sight before them.
“I see your guardian is still on the job,” Bilbo observed. Merry lay asleep under a blanket, curled up on the thick rug next to Halbarad, who was also asleep.
“He did not wish to be put to bed,” Thalguron explained. “He declared it to be his responsibility to look after us, and not leave us alone. Merry is a very responsible and bright child... and quite inquisitive.”
“Inquisitive is a mild word for it!” Bilbo laughed softly. “After all, his great-great-grandfather was the Old Took.”
“The Old Took?”
“Ask Gandalf sometime about Gerontius Took. There is something about Took blood that pops up when you least expect it.”
Aragorn saw that the parlor floor was nearly completely covered with bedding. “You’ve been busy, Thalguron.”
“Merry and I did what we could to prepare the house for our being here a few days, but I fear that, for us, the beds are a bit...”
“Short?” Bilbo finished for him. “I agree.” He shook his head. “I hope you are comfortable sleeping here. I don’t like the idea of guests sleeping on the floor.”
“Believe me, Bilbo,” Aragorn assured him, “quilts and pillows, on whatever surface, are quite a luxury to folk used to sleeping in the Wild.”
“I know,” Bilbo murmured. “I remember.”
“How is he?” Thalguron asked, gazing down at the boy sleeping in his arms. “Did all go as planned?”
“We had quite an interesting experience,” Aragorn replied, “but Frodo seems to have taken no harm from it.”
“So far,” Bilbo fretted. “Would you bring him into one of the bedrooms, Estel? I don’t know how long he’ll sleep so peacefully, but...”
“Go on,” Thalguron urged, settling Frodo back into Aragorn’s arms. “I will see to Arthad.”
Bilbo led Aragorn to the largest bedroom, where they saw with gratitude that a small fire had been lit in the hearth, and a pitcher of water and cups had been set on the bedside table.
“At the boys’ insistence, we have been sleeping outdoors since our arrival on this ‘camping trip’,” Bilbo said as Aragorn lay Frodo on the bed. “My old bones will welcome a soft bed for a night or two.”
“It will be a crowded one,” Aragorn chuckled as Scamp suddenly ran into the room and leaped up on the bed.
“Estel,” Bilbo said, beginning to unbutton Frodo’s vest, “would you or Thalguron ride to Brandy Hall tomorrow, and let Merry’s parents know that he is well, and will be a few days late in returning home? Saradoc and Esmeralda have heard all about Frodo and Pippin’s friend ‘Estel’, and will trust your word.”
“I would be happy to do so, unless you prefer I simply take Merry back with me.”
“There is no need, unless he wishes to go, or his presence here is a distraction to you,” Bilbo replied. “I suspect that this experience is teaching the boy quite a bit about responsibility, and about those who safeguard his home and family; it’s good for him. Besides...” Bilbo smiled, “he has apparently bonded quite strongly with your friends. I doubt he will wish to leave just yet.”
“He is certainly no distraction, and we are the guests, after all,” Aragorn said. “Both Thalguron and Halbarad have grown quite fond of him. Halbarad is so young... learning more about your folk is good for him, as well.”
Bilbo bent to whisper something in Frodo’s ear, and frowned when the boy didn’t respond. “This is a very deep sleep,” he said worriedly. Frodo had not stirred once while they had put him in a nightshirt, and tucked him into bed, nor when Scamp had begun nosing and pulling on one of the tiny twigs caught in the boy’s hair.
Aragorn sat carefully on the bed and unwound the bandage from Frodo’s hand. Nodding to himself, he then touched Frodo’s face gently. “His color and breathing are good, and there is no sign of infection or fever. Hopefully, he will sleep through the night. There is always a chance he will awaken feeling well, although Halbarad said that once he woke, what remained of the thorns’ poison left his system... rather violently.” He sighed. “I am sorry, little one,” he murmured to Frodo.
“You are not to blame, Estel.” Bilbo folded Frodo’s clothes over a chair. “Do you wish to show Thalguron the clasp?”
“Leave it in Frodo’s pocket,” Aragorn advised. “He may not remember showing it to me tonight, and might wish to do so tomorrow.”
Bilbo nodded, and bent to give Scamp a scratch behind the ears -- eliciting a joyous tail-thumping from the pup.
“Estel,” Bilbo asked suddenly, “how old are you?”
“I believe I am 62,” Aragorn said slowly. “Growing up among Elves, I did not at first learn to count time as Men -- and hobbits -- do.”
“Much about you begins to make sense,” Bilbo said softly, turning to look at the Ranger. “If you would not mind, perhaps we can take a walk together tomorrow; I should very much like to learn more about you, if you are willing to tell it.”
“It is rather a long tale,” Aragorn said gravely, “and not to be shared with anyone else -- not even Frodo... at least, not yet.”
“I understand,” Bilbo said, gently removing the remaining twigs and leaves from Frodo’s curls. “There are no secrets between the two of us, but...” He looked up at the Ranger. “Perhaps a day may come when it is safe for all people to know of you. Deep roots are not reached by the frost... I think I may write a verse about that,” he mused. “I will keep it safe in my head until the time comes to share it.”
“I hope that time comes, my friend,” Aragorn smiled.
Bilbo stood up. “I’m going to wash and make some tea, then bring in some basins, towels, and an extra blanket,” he said. “I’ll be staying here tonight with Frodo. Please make yourself at home; the kitchen is well stocked, and the bathing room is just down the hall.”
“Thank you, Bilbo.” Aragorn got to his feet as well, careful of Crickhollow’s low ceiling. “And please, call me when Frodo wakens -- whatever the hour. Do not feel you must tend him alone, if he feels ill.”
“I promise.”
“So,” Aragorn smiled from the doorway, “I assume that Frodo has a full measure of this ‘Tookish blood’ as well?”
“Not as much as Merry, or I,” Bilbo replied. “But Frodo has something else... something that’s... he’s very...” He sighed. “It’s difficult to put my finger on it.”
“I know what you mean.”
Aragorn left the bedroom, then went outside to make a final check on things. He saw that the horses had access to water and grass, and all was quiet. After a moment gazing up at the stars that shone down on the peaceful Shire, he rejoined Thalguron in the parlor.
“How is Halbarad?” Aragorn asked quietly so as not to wake Merry. “I am glad he is finally asleep.”
“Yes, at last,” Thalguron said, relieved. “I gave him more of the tea you prepared, and he ate a bit more. The fever already seems to be coming down.” He smiled suddenly. “My brother finally relaxed enough to sleep, but not before Merry coaxed many tales out of him.”
“And you told none of your own?” Aragorn teased.
“I must admit to indulging Merry, as well,” Thalguron admitted. “The lad is most endearing. It is easy to see how your fondness for the hobbits has grown so deep.”
“I trust you chose tales suitable for a child,” Aragorn said cautiously.
“Of course, Captain,” Thalguron assured him. He sat in front of the fire, glad to finally relax. “Can you speak of what occurred tonight?”
“Not everything... yet. I can say only that the trees want to be honored in the same manner as any other race,” Aragorn said. “They ask that Men learn to respect them for what they are, and seek not to harm their kind.”
“Why would they wish to speak only to you?” Thalguron asked, puzzled. He gazed thoughtfully at Aragorn in sudden understanding. “They recognize you.”
Aragorn nodded. “The young trees seem to have perceptions we did not realize, and a most unique method of communication. I would like to consult with Elrond about much of this.”
“And what did Frodo discover, that he could only reveal to you in the Old Forest?”
“An heirloom from the distant past; he will show everyone tomorrow, I am certain. I am curious to see it in full daylight.” Aragorn yawned suddenly.
“It has been many days since you have fully rested, Captain,” Thalguron said. “Do you wish a meal before sleep?”
“A most hobbit-like thing to inquire,” Aragorn grinned. “How will you ever be satisfied with woodland fare after this?”