by Silent Draco
Yet, great peace, delight, and joy rained on them, as they wandered the land, learning songs and lore, and delighting in flowers and creatures neither seen nor heard of in Middle-Earth, unless included in elven lays, whose time may not have come, or may have passed. Their days passed in bliss and joy, journeying forth from the small, bright cottage and garden granted them among the great farms.
Then one day, Bilbo spoke with great gravity and kindness to Frodo at their second breakfast. “Frodo, my lad, in my bones I feel it is about time. I am no longer stretched too fine, nor too weary … I feel replete.” Frodo sighed, and replied, “Yes, that’s the very word. We have wandered far in joy and talked with many wonders, and seen many more, but it does feel like our journey is near to its end.” “The King of the West himself said our Doom was to be conducted to our journey’s end,” Bilbo sat back, “and that end feels closer at hand.” Sam added, “Aye, the place in my heart is untorn now, and the only whispers I hear are from breezes and the fountain in the garden. I have seen and tended great beauty, but it’s about the time for harvest.” They finished their buttered and honeyed rolls with tea, then spoke quietly to the tirintir on the study table, asking their old friends to come by for one last party.
As the rays of Anor climbed above the Pelori, their cottage and garden filled with clearest light. Birds of many colors and songs added their trills, calls, and melodies to the pleasant scents wafted from the garden. All their preparations were complete, with the help of two servants from the lesser Maiar. “While I know not what year, or even the date in the outside world, let us have a Birthday Party!” Bilbo had exclaimed, with Frodo and Sam cheering the thought. And so the delicacies and fine wines and cider appeared, and were stored in the cold-chambers and cellar: cakes, candied flowers, and fruit fancies of Tirion; fishes and prawns from the Teleri, fine meats from Orome’s great savannas to the northwest, and treasures from Sam’s own part of the garden. “We’ll want some foundation before those fine wines, ale, and ciders. Nothing makes a better foundation than some goodness from the garden: cabbage chopped fine with onions and fried crisp, carrots cooked in butter, and fresh ‘taters roasted in thyme and rosemary, an’ a pinch of that fine anorhisht. Those with some good beef, or goose, and fowl will be a fine start. And of course, mushrooms cooked just tender, with bacon and greens!” said Sam. Frodo and Bilbo laughed, but thought greedily of the simple but pleasing dishes to come.
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Their guests began arriving at elevenses, by the sun, as the hobbits finished a light snack to fortify them for the feast to come. “Welcome, welcome dear friends!” called Bilbo, as the first conveyance drew near. All three bowed as Galadriel and Elrond stepped from their carriage. Olorin appeared by their gatepost, a cloud and red stars abounding. “Gandalf!” exclaimed Frodo, “did you arrive with …?” “No, just a reminder of our earlier days; forgive me, but that and a bit of fire-play were needed. We celebrate a Birthday, do we?” Gandalf laughed long and clearly. Sam looked down the lane to the fields beyond. “Another carriage? Who else comes?” He sounded puzzled. Gandalf replied, “Unexpected but very welcome guests, and no mathoms for them! They were delayed.”
Frodo and Sam gaped, astonished, as two figures dismounted. Legolas, Prince of Greenwood and Master of the Anorien Woods, and Gimli, Lord of Aglaron, came to the gate and bowed, smiling. “Have you places at your board for two more guests, uninvited?” asked Legolas, smiling. “Gladly, gladly, and welcome, old and dear friends!” cried Frodo, and he and Sam embraced them warmly. Their friends and Fellowship separated at the Gap of Rohan, many years before. “You’re in time for elevenses, and a toast to unexpected friends, and to those absent from us.” Sam and Frodo handed goblets and tankards of bubbly wine and cider, and they toasted the absent member of the Fellowship, somberly recalling Boromir the Brave, who fell in honor. “And lads, there is much we can speak of, tales of sad and glad news,” added Gimli.
Elevenses stretched to dinner, and then to low tea, as the servants looked in wonder at the appetites involved. “In Middle-Earth, it was the year 120 in the Fourth Age when we sailed forth,” recounted Gimli over mushrooms and strong ale. “Our companion and friend the King Elessar, we knew as Aragorn, had laid down his crown and his life, and lies in the Halls of Silence, in Minas Tirith. Eldarion rules in his place, a strong and wise king. King Eomer was laid to rest, and his son now has lordship of the Rohirrim. Both were good friends and neighbors. I tore my beard both times, in grief and respect. And lads, to no surprise for I’m sure Sam either knew or knew of their intentions, Merry and Pippin had made one last journey south. Aye, they handed their lands and titles to their heirs, and set forth to be with their friends for one last time. Merry rests near King Eomer, as a faithful squire to the House of Eorl, and Pippin was laid to rest, near to the place for King Elessar: a faithful Guardsman and Knight of Gondor.” At this news, all bowed their heads, and then raised their glasses in solemn toast to friends gone from this world.
“Sam,” continued Gimli after wiping his beard, “they sang The Lay of Frodo of the Nine Fingers and the Ring of Doom at the passing of King Elessar. They added more verses for Sam Gamgee, his faithful friend and squire, Mayor and High Shirriff of the Shire, who carried Frodo with his own failing strength to the last battle. You’re again famous among people.” All smiled as Sam blushed. “Well, thank you Lord Gimli, but … ‘twas what needed done, after all,” said Sam, “but what of your folk and Legolas’ people?” They spent a long and pleasant hour digesting dinner, and sipping fine cider, as the two regaled them with their own labors. “We built mightier gates for Aragorn, for Minas Tirith, far stronger than those breached by the Lord of the Nazgul. We had the steel and adamant to make khazhvar, a metal stronger than Numenoran steel, tempered at volcanic heat. That will suffice for now, but we left allowances for – an alloy of mithril. Perhaps one year, when all is cooled and can be purified, my heirs can mine the ruins of Barad-dur for the metal that Sauron stole. Nain’s son sent another contingent, deep scouts, to explore Khazad-dum, to find the old mines and shafts, but they will take time and caution to delve deep and protect themselves. Orcs and goblins still abound there, and other creatures from the depths. Perhaps they can find the storied Ninth Deep, and the galleries there, but it may take lifetimes.”
Legolas continued, as Gimli paused to drink, “We brough many trees, flowers, and plants to Minas Tirith. Crushed buildings were turned into garden spaces, with nut and fruit trees, and wonderful flowers. Smaller swards of green herbs and medicinal plants now line streets and festoon rooftops. The city is much greener and more pleasant, much more like the records of Minas Anor, before it became a fortress. King Elessar brought in a great valor of younger folk, and opened homesteads to all on the Pelennor Fields. Many young folk and now their children live there, raising families, crops, horses, and cattle, and fill the city with crafts, industry, and joyful sound. Ah, my friends, but the Sea tempted me daily, with the sweet and lonely call of the gulls flying up Anduin. I promised the King that I would wait, and that my people would aid him, but now …” he gestured in resignation.
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“Aye, … now.” Continued Gimli. “We grew rich from mining and tending the Aglaron, and the works we forged for Gondor and Rohan. By your Ladyship’s leave, I must say that your gift sits at the right hand of the Lord’s Seat, encased in indestructible adamant-crystal. The Elves are welcomed with great crystal-lamps to come and wonder at the Stone Gardens we tend. For Dwarves appreciate great beauty, even if we have few words to explain to those outside our homes. My son and his sons will gaze on the Gift and the Gardens, and remember.” Galadriel, smiling, rose and came round the table to embrace Gimli. “No greater praise could I hear, from the heart of a Dwarf.”
“Lord Alue was pleased by that,” continued Gimli, his voice suspiciously thick. “When the King passed, Legolas could tarry no more. He sent a message asking me if I wished one more adventure. Now, Dwarves are fine with water and rivers, but the Sea? I’m thankful that his healers and the wise women of Minas Tirith had remedies in plenty for the illness of sea travel. That was worse than horseback,” he sighed. Gimli added, “We had done our great works over scores of years, and to be true, I was beginning to feel my first fires were done. Young Gloin has good and trustworthy advisors, and firm friends ruling nearby, so he was ready for lordship. Legolas built a boat, with the aid of Gondor’s shipwrights, one fit for a long ocean voyage. We made our farewells, and so we came West.”
Legolas looked at the table, and finished their tale. “Our people, of the Avari, never passed the great barriers thrown up in our path. We remained behind, not answering or prevented from answering the call. Water creatures and spirits guided us westward, and in dreams I was shown where to sail. We arrived in Alaquonde, to the surprise of many, but a herald awaited us. Lord Ulmo knew of our voyage, and sent messengers. Lord Ulmo and the King of the West summoned us unto Tantiquel, for we were a surprise. Lord Manwe welcomed us to Valinor and Eldamar.. Lord Alue also appeared, and was astounded by Gimli’s reason to journey West. I expect, my friend, that you will have many stories to tell at his forges?” Gimli nodded, turning deep red.
Low tea passed toward supper time and the main Feast. Olorin interrupted the hobbit’s plans once more, returning with an armful of tubes. “Yes, fireworks, of the kind only seen in Blessed Lands!” he smiled. In the darkening sky rose great rockets, and sheets of rocky flame, and images of Gondolin fell like raindrops, with scenes of Belegost, Nargothrond, and other memories. Then the sky darkened with black cloud, and an enormous rush caried a great black dragon aloft, roaring and flaring with flame, and in the western sky appeared darts of bright light flashing through clouds. To their amazement, another sight appeared: Earendil in his great ship, flying down the heavens, engaging in combat with the great dragon. Smiting it one last time with his sword, the pieces fell from the sky in red flames, as a gold and argent sun rose in its place, to hang shining in the sky before shimmering out. “And that, my friends, is the call for supper,” called Gandalf, “with another guest to be welcomed!
Supper was joyous, but Earendil remained but for three courses (two meats and a fruit subtlety) and a parting cup. “I enjoyed supper, my friends, but this must be my farewell. I go to patrol the heavens,” he said to the hobbits, “and one last time, I thank you for your faith in the Lords of the West, and the courage to support my House. Fare well; perhaps we may meet again, but if not, this was joyous.” Only Olorin did not gaze in surprise.
As supper wound through its remaining courses and removes, talk and drink ebbed and flowed. Frodo at last stood, fumbling with something in his pocket, cleared his throat, and spoke. “Well, friends, this was intended to be one last Birthday Party. We are feeling replete now in our hearts, and I expect our journey is almost complete. We will go soon …” “… and in honor, I will escort you to your last steps,” finished Olorin. “I guessed as much, and yes, you all look properly healed. To remain longer, would be imprudent.” Gimli covered a yawn and added, “And I too, begin to feel my years. Time for sleep. I will sleep the long sleep of my fathers soon enough, but first I must visit with the great Lady, and then make my arrangements with Lord Alue. My lord has some interesting projects for me. Legolas, this time two not of Durin’s Line will know of a Dwarf’s resting place: you, and Lady Galadriel. As you pass by in your songs and dreams, recall me and our meetings, my friends.” All bade the Halflings a fond but regretful farewell and departed, with only Olorin remaining.
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Find Previous Chapters Here:
Chapter 13 – Part 2
Chapter 13 – Part 1 Chapter 12
Chapter 11 – Part 4 Chapter 11 – Part 3
Chapter 11 – Part 2 Chapter 11 – Part 1
Chapter 10 – Part 2 Chapter 10 – Part 1
Chapter 9 – Part 2 Chapter 9 – Part 1
Chapter 8 – Part 2 Chapter 8 – Part 1
Chapter 7 – Part 2 Chapter 7 – Part 1
Chapter 6 – Part 2 Chapter 6 – Part 1
Chapter 5 – Part 4 Chapter 5 – Part 3
Chapter 5 – Part 2 Chapter 5 – Part 1
Chapter 4 – Part 2 Chapter 4 – Part 1
Chapter 3 – Part 2 Chapter 3 – Part 1
Chapter 2 – Part 3 Chapter 2 – Part 2
Chapter 2 – Part 1 Chapter 1