Valandil took up his abode in Annúminas, but
his folk were diminished, and of the Númenoreans and of the Men
of Eriador there remained now too few to people the land or to
maintain all the places that Elendil had built … Ever they
dwindled with the years, until their glory passed, leaving only
green mounds in the grass. At length naught was left of
them but a strange people wandering secretly in the wild, and
other men knew not their homes nor the purpose of their
journeys, and save in Imladris, in the house of Elrond, their
ancestry was forgotten.
‘Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age’, The Silmarillion
“Captain...” Halbarad could barely speak. He stared at
the image of Lúthien, ancient beyond imagining, entranced by the
beauty of what was before him.
“There is more,” Aragorn said, guiding the awestruck young Ranger to the carving of Beren.
“This is unbelievable,” Halbarad murmured. “Truly did you speak of hidden treasures.”
“And hidden they must remain,” Aragorn warned his friend. “Very few know of these carvings, Halbarad. I asked Bilbo if I might show them to you.”
“I will thank him myself,” Halbarad said. “This is like a window into Ages past; I have often wondered if the old stories were just... stories.”
“They are not,” Aragorn said. “Arminas, an Elf from the Havens, was shown these carvings. He assured us that they do portray Beren and Lúthien as he remembers them.”
“I will speak of this to no one.”
“I know you will not,” Aragorn assured him. “Bilbo and Frodo would be besieged should this secret be revealed.” He smiled. “Guarding the Shire, and its inhabitants, takes many forms, my friend.”
“It is my honor to assist you to do so.”
“Do you remember your oath?” Aragorn asked quietly.
“I will never forget it,” Halbarad whispered. His mind flew back to the proudest day of his life.
“My life and honor now given to defense, justice, and steadfast diligence for the safety of the lands and peoples under our protection. Beneath bright Eärendil who lights our way, and in remembrance of Elros Tar-Minyatar, father of line and blood, I swear this oath of fealty to the Dúnedain here in the presence of my family, my comrades, my brothers...”
“I spoke those same words, as did my father, as did his,” Aragorn said. “We have pledged our lives to the guardianship of Middle-earth, Halbarad. We are few, but we are vigilant. What safety and peace we may bring to others, we must do.” He reverently touched the carving of Beren. “And those who came before us still watch... and wait.”
Halbarad turned to Aragorn. “Little remains of Annúminas, Captain, and yet the very stones seemed to speak to me. They wait, as well.”
Aragorn smiled. “Come, let us share a late breakfast with Bilbo. It is time your tale was told.”
~*~
Frodo opened his eyes, surprised to discover that it was late morning. He had only the vaguest memory of Aragorn scooping him up, pillows, quilts, and all, and tucking him – under protest – into bed. He stretched gingerly, relieved to feel much less sore than he had been.
“How are you doing, girl?” he asked, turning to look at Scamp. Frodo could see that the soft and warm fleece lining Scamp’s basket had been changed, and the new mother looked supremely content with her litter of healthy pups snuggled close. He slid carefully out of bed, and sat for a few moments rubbing Scamp behind the ears and telling her how proud he was. He gently stroked each pup under their mother’s watchful gaze, then hurried to wash and dress.
When Frodo finally came to the dining room, yawning and tucking in his shirt, he found Bilbo, Halbarad, and Aragorn sitting at the table, drinking tea and talking quietly.
“I didn’t miss it, did I?” Frodo asked anxiously.
“First breakfast?” Bilbo grinned. “By several hours.”
“Not that... Halbarad’s story,” Frodo told him, loading a plate with fruit and muffins. “If I did, he’ll just have to tell the whole thing over again.”
“I had barely begun. You appear to be feeling much better,” Halbarad said, as the boy sat down.
“I am,” Frodo replied. “Scamp’s feeling better, too.”
“She and the pups are doing well,” Aragorn smiled. “She had her breakfast at a decent hour, while you were lazing the day away.”
“Don’t let this Ranger fool you, my lad,” Bilbo said. “We all slept late this morning.”
“I have only related my tale so far as my approach to Lake Evendim,” Halbarad smiled at Frodo. “Shall I continue?”
“Yes, please,” Frodo urged. He spread jam on a muffin and bit into it.
“Thanks to Bilbo’s map, I was easily able to locate the meeting place,” Halbarad said. “A half-dozen most colorfully and richly dressed individuals awaited me at the edge of the lake, stroking their beards and fingering strong axes. The Dwarves had set up a rude camp among the scattered stones on a small rise near the lake, but I saw no horses.”
“Dwarves often depend on their own feet when they travel,” Bilbo said.
“Were you nervous?” asked Frodo.
“To my very bones!” Halbarad admitted. “However, the solemn countenances of my hosts would have been much more intimidating, had Bilbo not spoken to me at length about what I might expect.” He looked gravely at Bilbo. “I bring you greetings from the Dwarves of the Blue Mountains, Burglar Baggins.”
“My goodness, they have heard of me even there?” Bilbo asked delightedly.
“They certainly have. As a matter of fact, it is partially due to your fame and high esteem amongst Durin’s folk that I was able to return here so swiftly.”
“What did you tell them?” Bilbo asked.
“The truth,” laughed Halbarad. “When the Dwarves learned that a fond relation of yours had been hurt, and my chieftain as well, their demeanor changed from solemnity to great compassion, and they promised to dispense with the lengthy ritual and ceremony that were usual for such negotiations. I told them that I longed to return to my chieftain’s side, but assured them that the concerns of the Dwarves and the agreement we would reach held priority.”
“Well done,” Aragorn said quietly.
“Thank you, Captain. The ‘business’ part of our meeting went swiftly. The Dwarves requested permission from the Men of the West to explore the surrounding hills for minerals and gems; in return, they offered their assistance in rebuilding Annúminas, should we ever wish it done. I agreed, and we each pledged, on behalf of our people, to honor our vows.” He grew serious. “It is no small thing to which they have agreed; the ancient city is in ruins, its stones scattered and broken. The Dwarves had apparently been camped there for several days, and already had many ideas about how to rebuild the city, and how it might appear when they had done so.”
“So all went well?” Frodo asked.
“Very well, indeed,” Halbarad replied. “After our pledges were made, we sat and ate together, and talked far into the night. I was astonished at the depth of their feelings, and the beauty and power of their songs. When Dwarves speak of the earth, it is as poetry.”
“That is true,” Bilbo nodded. “A Dwarf’s reverence for the earth is as heartfelt as an Elf singing of the stars.” He looked knowingly at Halbarad. “Did they bid you drink with them?”
“They did; however, I fear that in this endeavor I did not represent my people well enough. They told me I would no doubt learn to drink more heartily when I was old enough to grow a proper beard.” Halbarad smiled, rubbing his chin.
“Halbarad, I believe I will send you on any negotiating missions from now on,” Aragorn said. “Most of them are quite tedious and protracted.”
“Believe me, Captain, I am much more comfortable fighting brigands or tracking orcs than I am with diplomacy! I still have much to learn.”
Frodo noticed Aragorn rubbing his temple.
“You’re still having headaches, aren’t you?” he asked worriedly. “Sam said you may have hit your head again when you went to look at the carvings.”
“I do not think I injured myself, but yes, my head still aches at times,” Aragorn admitted. “Hopefully it will ease by the time we return to Bree.”
“Take Gilly’s medicine with you, in case you can’t sleep,” Bilbo urged his friend.
“Don’t let him get too tired, Halbarad,” Frodo insisted. “Estel’s had this lovely vacation here, and it would be a shame if you both had to get back to Rangering too soon.”
“Vacation?” Aragorn laughed. “Well, perhaps so.”
~*~
Sam came to visit the pups, and he and Frodo huddled together in Frodo’s bedroom. Later that afternoon, Aragorn, Halbarad, and Bilbo relaxed outside on the bench beneath the trees.
“I am glad you regained your memories so quickly, Estel,” Bilbo said.
“As am I,” Aragorn said fervently.
“Ever since you told me your secret, I have been wondering something.”
“Yes?”
“Have you thought much about what it will be like... when the King comes back?” Bilbo asked.
Halbarad, surprised at such a forthright question, looked at Aragorn curiously.
“I have, Bilbo -- from time to time,” Aragorn said. “However, there are many bridges to be crossed ’ere that day may arrive.” He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering his vision from the cavern. “So much time has passed. So much has been lost and forgotten. ”
“From the ashes a fire shall be woken,” Bilbo quoted softly. “Remade shall be blade that was broken.”
“Is that from the poem you said you would be writing? I am impressed.”
“I have finished, and it just awaits a time to be shared.” Bilbo gazed gravely at Aragorn. “I will add my hope to your own, Estel.”
“Thank you, my dear friend.”
Frodo came outside, then, and joined them. Aragorn helped him up on the bench between himself and Bilbo.
“Sam’s telling the pups all about the Gamgee family,” Frodo told them. “I don’t think they can even hear yet! But he says it’s never too early to teach them which plants not to dig up, and how good his mum’s cooking is.”
“He’ll get no argument from me about Bell’s cooking,” Bilbo said.
“Nor from me,” Frodo said fervently.
“Halfred took the news of the pups to Farmer Cotton; Tom will come up in a few days to give us all lessons in caring for them.”
“That’s good,” Frodo said. “Not that Scamp will let us do much.”
“Possibly not,” Bilbo smiled.
“Oh, and Sam’s finally named the twins. He wanted me to come out and tell everyone.”
“He told me earlier that the names were Sunny and Cloud,” Halbarad said.
“I thought they were Bramble and Ramble,” Aragorn argued.
“That was hours ago,” Frodo said. “They’ve had a dozen names each since then.”
“So what are we to call them?” Aragorn asked.
“‘Patch’ and ‘Blossom’. I can’t tell them apart yet, but Sam claims he can. And of course Scamp won’t have any trouble.”
“I am certain of that,” Aragorn said. “And there will be time enough for us to get to know them a bit before Halbarad and I depart tomorrow.”
“Estel, why are you always leaving?” Frodo grumbled. “Don’t you like it here?”
“You know I do, little one,” Aragorn said, hugging his small friend. “I visit whenever I can.”
“I know,” Frodo whispered. He threw his arms around Aragorn’s neck and clung to him for a moment before letting go. “And Halbarad,” Frodo continued, “I know your pup will get a real name when he goes to his new home, but we have to call him something in the meantime.”
“And that would be?” Halbarad asked.
“Sam and I discussed it, and decided on ‘Ranger’,” Frodo grinned. “He’s so scruffy, and constantly needs a bath, and... well, it just fits, don’t you think?”
“Perfect, Frodo lad,” Bilbo laughed.
“The two of you are the scamps of this family,” Aragorn chuckled, “and always will be.”
“Absolutely,” Bilbo said, putting an arm around Frodo’s shoulders.
“And proud of it,” Frodo grinned.
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