When Frodo awoke, the air was cooler, and through the trees’ branches he could see that the sky had clouded over. Halbarad was gone, as were the new crutches, and Frodo assumed that someone had helped the injured Ranger back to the house. He looked up at Aragorn, sitting next to him.
“I feel much better.”
“Your fever is gone,” Aragorn said. “Any strange dreams?”
“Not this time.” Frodo sat up slowly, relieved that he no longer felt dizzy. “What time is it?”
“Nearly suppertime, according to your cousins.” Aragorn smiled down at the boy. “I was just about to wake you.”
“Did I miss anything exciting?”
The Ranger laughed. “Pippin had a wonderful time with the ‘fwogs’; so much so, he and Merry came back covered in mud. Bilbo sent them straight to the bathing room.”
Frodo grinned. “Anything else?”
“Let’s see... There was a rather long game of hide-and-seek, then Merry settled down to draw a lovely miniature forest on one of Halbarad’s crutches. Pippin asked to draw something as well, and Halbarad said that he could.”
“That should be interesting,” Frodo grinned.
“The lad already has my men wrapped about his finger. He does not wish to leave tomorrow, but I promised his parents I would return him.”
“Where’s the other horse?” Frodo asked. Arthad stood patiently nearby, but Thalguron’s horse was missing.
“Thalguron will return soon,” Aragorn explained. “We’ve been taking turns looking around.”
“Rangers are always on duty, aren’t they?” Frodo asked thoughtfully. “They’re like the Bounders.”
“I have spoken with several of your ‘Bounders’,” Aragorn said, referring to the hobbits who helped keep undesirable people and animals from the Shire. “They seem very dedicated.”
“Like you,” Frodo nodded. “What will Halbarad do while his ankle is healing?”
“Thalguron is going to take him home, and deliver him to their mother for a few weeks,” Aragorn chuckled. “I know her very well; she will see to it that he rests.”
“Estel,” Frodo asked curiously, “do you have a home?”
Aragorn looked down at the boy. “Middle-earth is my home,” he replied quietly. “But a home – such as you have found with Bilbo – no, perhaps not. I find refuge in Rivendell, when I have need of rest.”
“You always have a home at Bag End,” Frodo declared.
“Thank you, Frodo.”
Frodo noticed that Aragorn was holding the mithril clasp.
“Why isn’t it tarnished after so long?” Frodo asked. “Silver has to be polished all the time.”
“Mithril is a very rare metal,” Aragorn explained. “The Dwarves delve deeply for it, and it is much prized.” He turned the heirloom over and over in his hands. “It is much more rare now than it was in Ages past.”
It was exciting to have found such a treasure... but Frodo could see how much his friend valued it. “Would you like to have it?”
“That is a most kind offer, little one,” Aragorn said, touched by the boy’s generosity, “but this belongs to you. However...” he looked thoughtful. “I would very much like Lord Elrond to see it, and perhaps tell me what he knows or remembers of the events that occurred in the Old Forest.”
“Remembers?”
“Think of Arminas,” Aragorn gently reminded the boy of the Elf who had come to visit Bag End. “There are Elves of great age among us still.”
“I know, but...” Frodo knew that Elves lived a long time, but he had not thought of Elrond, whom Bilbo had met – and who had raised Aragorn as his son – as someone ancient and legendary. “How old is he?”
“Very old,” Aragorn said gravely. “He remembers the Age before this, and the one before that. His wisdom is great, and his memory long.”
“Does he look that old?”
“No,” Aragorn smiled. “His hair is dark as the night sky, and his face still quite youthful.”
“Oh,” Frodo whispered. “Bilbo’s very old too, you know.”
“So I understand,” Aragorn said quietly. He wondered if Frodo remembered how, in his delirium, he had suddenly asked Bilbo about his age. “Does it concern you greatly? Bilbo remains as vigorous and full of life as any hobbit I’ve met.”
“I know,” Frodo said with a small smile. “He’s just amazing, isn’t he? It’s just that... I can’t help thinking about things… sometimes.”
“Of course you can’t,” Aragorn reassured him. “You and Bilbo have a wonderful relationship, Frodo. Don’t hesitate to talk with him, or let him know your fears. He wouldn’t want you to hide your feelings or concerns from him.”
“I don’t want him to worry about me,” Frodo said, absently plucking up blades of grass.
“Do you remember what I told you, years ago when you were ill? We always worry about those we love; there’s nothing you can do to prevent that.”
“I know.” Frodo stood up and stretched. “Please find out what Lord Elrond can tell you about the clasp. Besides,” he grinned, “if you borrow it, you have to return it sometime, and we’ll get to see you again.”
“You are a sly hobbit,” Aragorn sighed.
“I’m starving,” Frodo suddenly announced. A sudden gust of wind ruffled his hair. “Is a storm coming up?”
“It certainly is. Time to go inside.”
Frodo wriggled his bare feet in the cool grass. “Don’t you ever take those off?” he asked, frowning at Aragorn’s boots.
“Only when I sleep,” Aragorn replied, “and not always then. But this night, I don’t dare let them out of my sight until after a certain hobbit lad and pup are asleep.” Aragorn chuckled at Frodo’s puzzled look. “When I returned from patrol, the game of hide-and-seek had become a frantic search for Pippin. He had chosen a most excellent hiding place -- one of Halbarad’s boots -- and one guess as to who finally found him.”
“Scamp?” Frodo grinned.
Aragorn nodded.
“Is there anything left of the boot?”
“We were able to rescue it,” Aragorn laughed, getting to his feet. “Pippin was delighted at having been able to hide from Merry for so long, but I suspect that hunger would have driven him to abandon the game eventually.”
Frodo looked around. “Where is that crazy pup?”
“The last I saw, she was quite busy -- supervising in the kitchen. Pippin and Merry are helping with supper, and Scamp quickly discovered that your young cousins will ‘accidentally’ drop morsels of food on occasion.”
“I can’t imagine where they learned such a thing,” Frodo shook his head in mock astonishment. “Certainly not from me.”
~*~
By the time the skies darkened and the storm broke, everyone had gathered in the parlor, sitting together on the floor in front of a warm fire -- laughing, talking, and eating. Supper was a thick stew, complemented by platters of fresh vegetables, bread, and a variety of pies Aragorn had brought from Merry’s mother.
Declaring that Bilbo had hardly had a proper rest in days, Frodo insisted on cleaning up... although it only took a soft word from Bilbo to have Merry scurrying into the kitchen to help his elder cousin with the washing up.
It was a pleasant evening, with stories and songs in front of the hearth, and a sleepy Pippin being carried to bed by Frodo. A yawning Merry soon stumbled away to his own bed, and after seeing to it that the Rangers would spend a comfortable night on the parlor floor, which had been covered once again in thick, soft bedding, Frodo and Bilbo bid them goodnight.
After brewing another dose of the painkilling and mildly sedating tea for Halbarad, Aragorn and Thalguron sat for awhile, talking quietly and listening to the rain as it pattered on the roof. It was a rare treat to be indoors on such a night. Thalguron began whittling several small objects, the sight of which made Aragorn smile.
Before turning in, Aragorn made one last check of the horses. When he came back inside, shaking out his wet cloak, he looked up the hallway and saw that Thalguron was standing quietly just outside Frodo’s bedroom.
“Is everything all right?” Aragorn asked, joining his friend at the partially-opened door.
“Look,” Thalguron said softly, pointing into the room. By the dim lamplight next to the bed, the two men could see that the bed was crowded with sleeping hobbits. Although Merry and Pippin had their own rooms, they had both ended up in Frodo’s -- in a peaceful, sleeping pile of cousins. Scamp, curled up next to Frodo’s face and washing her fur, looked up at the men and thumped her tail.
Aragorn smiled, remembering Gandalf’s words to him just days after meeting Frodo for the first time.
“That is the Shire, Aragorn --- that child. That trust, that innocence, that gentle, simple life. This is what I have asked you to guard and preserve.”
“I did not understand,” Thalguron continued quietly. “But now...”
“Now you know, Thalguron,” Aragorn said. “The hobbits are very special. I swore to Gandalf that the Dúnedain would protect the Shire from intrusion. I promised him that this land would be kept safe, and the hobbits know only peace.”
Thalguron nodded. “I am very glad we came here, Captain,” he said. “These few days have taught me much.”
“There is no visit to these folk that does not teach me something new,” Aragorn smiled. “I suspect it will always be so.”
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