The King was very busy for several days, as he was called to
participate in several important matters. One was a series of
consultations with the Dwarvish architects regarding an annex to
the Hall of Healing. The complex of buildings under construction
needed not only to provide everything required for the healers,
herbalists, and midwives, but would soon also serve as a school
for those who would travel to Annúminas to seek instruction in
these arts. Elessar also met with the City’s first elected
magistrates, and gave advice on how best to judge fairly in a
variety of situations. And finally, in a ceremony attended by a
large gathering of the City’s residents, the name of the first
Steward of the Northern Kingdom was announced. The man selected
was acknowledged by all who knew him as judicious, courageous, and
honorable, treating all races with equal respect. He and his
growing family had been among the first to make Annúminas their
home. When the young man knelt proudly before his sovereign to
receive the rod of office, the four hobbits in particular looked
on with joy. He was Cîrbarad, son of Halbarad Dúnadan and kin to
the King. At the pub that night, the hobbits sat with Cîrbarad and
delighted him with stories he had never heard about his father, of
whom they had all been so fond.
While her siblings were at play or enjoying excursions in the countryside or the lake, Elanor chose instead to learn whatever she could from the Queen’s maidens. She told her proud father each night as much as she could remember about her lessons in herbal skills, music, and working with fine silks. To Sam’s amusement, she began to unconsciously weave the Elvish words she heard each day into her speech, and they all watched the lovely hobbit lass blossom like a rose in summer. Sam knew that his Rose was as grateful as he for this rare opportunity their precious Elanorellë had been granted.
There was storytelling and singing each night after supper, and the visitors now felt comfortable enough to begin speaking of their homeland and the proud culture of the People of Heskil-anna. The hobbits listened in awe as a lifestyle and history unfolded of which they had previously known nothing. To the visitors’ delight, their small friends never tired of hearing tales of the lands of snow, and the glacial mountains that slowly moved over the millennia.
“You’d be right at home on Caradhras,” Merry remarked once, and of course the visitors asked to hear again that part of the Fellowship’s journey.
Frodo taught Hé-Findam to make the travel biscuits Scamp had enjoyed on their journey so many years ago. Hukara and Huma gobbled them with such enthusiasm that Hé-Findam baked and stockpiled several baskets’ worth, and put them away for their journey home.
He-nára, the artist, visited the Memorial with He-án, and the men marveled at the map of Endórë. The vastness of what the Southerners called “Middle-earth” astounded them both, and He-nára was now engaged each day in painstakingly copying the map, as well as the portraits of the Fellowship.
Meanwhile, He-án and He-tyána had begun spending nearly all of the daylight hours with the Dúnedain’s finest horsemen, learning everything they could about the six magnificent animals which the King had most gladly agreed to trade for a double handful of their finest sea pearls. The Snowmen thanked Frodo many times for his advice, as did the King, privately. Elessar had been pondering the most tactful way of offering a gift of fine horses to the visitors, and their unexpected offer of such precious jewels had been a most welcome solution. The Dwarvish artisans were already at work setting the rare gems into the walls of the entryway of the Chamber of the King, which in ancient days had glittered with pearls and opals from the Blessed Realm.
One night, the King chose to take his supper with just the hobbits. He dressed in simple garb, as did they, and greatly appreciated the relaxed company of his friends after so many formal occasions. The hobbits happily shared with him the excursions they were enjoying with the fisher-folk, hiking in the hills, watching – and participating – in archery practice, rides on their ponies, meeting Gimli’s friends and kin, picnics, and games with the children.
After the fine meal, and with the children in bed, Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin drew the King into the common room to at last present the gifts they had brought. They all sat on the floor by the hearth, with a pot of steaming tea and five cups set nearby accompanied by small cakes.
“Eldest first, or best looking first?” Merry asked cheerfully.
“Eldest,” Pippin proclaimed, pointing to Frodo. “As best looking, of course I’ll go last.”
“You rascal,” Frodo said, casting a fond look at his young cousin. “Something about that sounds familiar.” With a smile, he handed the King a book bound in fine black leather engraved with silver lettering on the front and down the spine. “This is for you, Aragorn. It’s a copy of the book Bilbo started, and I continued, and…” He turned to Sam.
“I’ve kept it up as best I could,” Sam said. “Whatever Frodo-lad writes next, or perhaps Elanor, are chapters yet to be told.”
Elessar opened the thick volume and flipped through several pages. “Frodo, is this… our tale? The book you told me about?”
“Yes,” said Frodo. “Our copy -- Sam’s and mine -- has a red cover, and I hope to copy one with a green binding for Pippin to keep at the Great Smials. Frodo-lad calls ours the Red Book, and so we now think of it. Of course, the tale of the Ring from a hobbit’s perspective will be different than yours, or anyone else’s, but… well, I hope I didn’t get too many names wrong. I corresponded and spoke with ever so many people to get more facts about events Sam and I didn’t witness firsthand.”
“I will treasure this,” the King said, holding the book to his heart. “Thank you, Frodo. I do not suspect that this was easy to write.”
“It wasn’t,” Sam said quietly. There had been times when he had despaired of Frodo’s health while he toiled away on difficult passages and recalled horrors beyond description, but Master Elrond’s ring had seemed to be a soothing influence through it all, and no ill effects had come of the writing in the end.
Sam’s turn was next, and he held a small box wrapped in sturdy cloth. He set it carefully in the King’s hands, as if reluctant to let it go.
“Open this when you get home, sir, and ask your gardeners to care for it very special like.”
“What lies within, my friend?” Elessar asked curiously.
“It’s a seed from the mallorn the Lady gave us,” Sam responded. “The tree blossoms each Spring, and is such a wonder, but rarely does it drop a seed. This is one of the first, and I thought, well, maybe the White Tree might like some company? Something else from the elder days to talk to, or…” He blushed and stopped talking.
“Sam,” the King said, “this gift is very special indeed. I know that my queen, above all, will appreciate the company of a mallorn such as those she remembers from the Golden Wood. On her behalf, and mine, we thank you.” Sam beamed at him.
“My turn,” Merry said, offering a large painter’s canvas such as those He-nára was filling with his sketches. This one was framed in fine silver.
Elessar turned the canvas over, and gasped in pleasure. There before him were excellent likenesses of Beren and Lúthien as he had seen them carved into the stones hidden since the First Age: stones around which the hill containing Bag End had grown and covered from sight and memory.
“This is truly wonderful, Merry,” he said, examining the painting’s details. The beautiful maiden, so like his beloved Arwen, wore the flowing gown he remembered, the Nauglamír adorning her slender neck. Merry had embedded bits of mithril into the canvas to depict the necklace’s stunning jewel – now worn upon the brow of Eärendil as Vingilot soared among the stars. Beside her stood Beren, tall and handsome, gazing lovingly at his lady. His right hand was missing, and upon his left could be seen the same ring that Elessar wore upon his own finger.
“We thought you might like to have a likeness of them,” Frodo said, “since you won’t be able to visit Bag End any longer and see the carvings in person. And with so many Elves sailing, soon there mightn’t be anyone left in Middle-earth who remembers what Beren and Lúthien looked like.”
“I appreciate this more than you know,” Elessar said. “Merry, I had no idea you could draw this well.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Merry said with relief. “I practically lived in that dusty, dark cavern behind Bag End to get this finished in time.”
Pippin presented his gift last, as he had wished. He solemnly handed over a scroll, which the King unfurled. As Elessar read it, he shook his head in wonder.
“Pippin,” he said at last, “even in Gondor, the King’s birthday is not a proclaimed holiday. I am honored that in the Shire it will be so.” He smiled at Frodo and Sam. “We celebrate, instead, the birthdays of Bilbo and Frodo Baggins...”
Now it was Frodo’s turn to blush.
“...and Samwise Gamgee,” the King concluded.
“You do?” Sam gasped. “A whole city knows about my birthday, sir?”
“They more than know about it; in Gondor, the Ring-bearers’ birthdays are days of festival.”
“Like the anniversary of your entering the City for the first time, and being crowned?” Frodo asked.
“Yes, Frodo.” the King smiled. “And I have not forgotten that May 1st is but two days hence.”
“Neither have I,” Frodo grinned back.
“They’ve got something planned, or I’m not a Brandybuck,” Merry said.
“But tomorrow will be fun as well,” Pippin reminded them. “We’re all looking forward to the tournament between Hé-Sokar and the King’s champion.”
“By the way, whom did you choose?” Frodo asked curiously. “He’d better be good.”
“He is,” the King said with a twinkle in his eye. “I would set only the best against Hé-Sokar.” He turned Merry’s painting towards them, showing the two lovers from the First Age.
“Do you mean Beren?” Sam asked. “Halbarad’s nephew?”
A flash of grief dimmed the King’s eyes for a moment, as he nodded. The hobbits also grieved the death of Halbarad, but they knew the King’s sorrow went much deeper than he had ever let on.
“Beren is quite skilled,” Merry said. “I’ve seen him out on the archery range.”
“Who should we wager on?” Pippin asked, trying to get the King to think of other things. To his delight, it worked.
“You must decide that for yourselves,” Elessar said. “As King, I cannot exhibit favoritism either towards my kin, or our guest from the north.” He gathered up his gifts. “Thank you for your generosity, my dear friends.”
“Take these, too,” Sam said, bringing forth a folder, thick with papers and tied with a ribbon. “The children at home sent drawings and poems and little bits of writing for you.” He smiled broadly. “To think that all my young ‘uns are learning their letters. Who’d have thought it?”
“We also brought you some of our wives’ best preserved goods,” Merry said. “They’re still packed away in the cart. I hope you’ll share with Faramir and Beregond and Bergil and the rest, with our compliments.”
“There’s plenty,” Sam agreed.
“Mmmm,” Pippin said dreamily, smacking his lips. “There’s jams, cheeses, pickles, apple butter, lovely fruit loaves…”
“And we got them here without Pippin breaking into the crates even once,” Frodo said in mock amazement.
“I’m hardly a child any longer,” Pippin declared.
“Maybe Gandalf’s ring has calmed him down,” Merry suggested.
“Perhaps Master Elrond’s ring will do the same for you, Aragorn,” Frodo said, his eyes sparkling. “You were quite the scruffy Ranger at one time.”
“I always will be, in my heart,” Elessar said, embracing Frodo warmly. “And you will always be an impertinent hobbit, whom I dearly love.”
“We should warn Gimli,” Merry said with a grin. “Perhaps the Lady’s ring will settle him down some as well, and he’ll finally seek out a wife of his own.”
“That would be so splendid!” Sam cried out, and his friends, knowing how happy he was with Rosie, laughed and clapped him on the back.
Elessar laughed just as merrily, once again blessing the presence of these lighthearted persons in his life. Perhaps Gandalf, with all his cares and secret fears, had felt his burden lessen or even occasionally be forgotten because there were hobbits in the Fellowship. Was that one of the reasons Elrond had finally allowed Merry and Pippin to go along? He had long suspected that who was chosen to accompany Frodo south was a much more complex decision than it might have appeared at the time.
Frodo reached out to gently touch his finger that bore Vilya.
“Do you suppose Gandalf and Elrond and the Lady miss their rings?” Frodo asked.
“Yes, I do,” Elessar said. He wondered, for a moment, if Frodo truly did regret giving up Vilya, but when the hobbit raised his head, his eyes were clear and untroubled.
“That took great courage, I think,” Frodo said. “They wore them for so very long.”
“It took great love,” Pippin said softly. As the others nodded, he sensed the comforting presence of Narya, and felt for a moment that he could see the wizard smiling at him, from far across the Sea.
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