The roads towards the west were not in terrible or wonderful condition, but the type of country road you would expect in the country, with alternating large agricultural fields and the occasional dark forest which could promise some nasty surprises. Fortunately, our road was clear and when it allowed, I brought my elven mare, a departing gift from Elrond (he had wished us a speedy journey as all that travel through his home with a �May the stars lead your way . . .� or the like), parallel to Father�s cart of multicolored firecrackers.
More than once I had begun to question about this cart, as it was not the finest I had seen and on occasion, emitted what seemed to be loud moans similar to those of a dying cow. A certain someone, however (not to mention any names) had insisted this to be quite �musical� and was entertaining to a lone wizard on the road. I had pointed out that he wasn�t a lone wizard anymore, at least not until next summer.
"Next summer?" Suddenly, his cheerful mask slipped from his face and Father gave me a worried look, "I�m afraid that the remainder of this year is going to be unlike any other. Perhaps we may have to part before that."
"Lady Arwen did mention that she thought that she would see me quite soon . . ." I absentmindedly fingered the white silky mane of my mount which I had decided to name Elendil and although Elrond had approved, a certain other elf had caught the double meaning and sent a dirty look in my direction. Temper, temper. I grinned slightly at the memory, but quickly grew serious as the cooling late summer breeze brought me back to reality. Sent away again. What difference was it to being Aragorn, a king in exile? Shuttled back and forth between a life on the road and back in Rivendell . . . A long suppressed feeling fluttered in my heart and I knew that if it was anyone else beside me at that point in time, I would have said something. But it was Father. "But definitely after Minas Tirith, right?"
"Never fear, you will see the White City," Father laughed, "After Hobbiton, I have something I must deal with there, and I don�t see why you can�t accompany me." Finally! Personally, I found it quite embarrassing to be as old as I was and to be widely traveled. But he quickly added, "For the time being."
"I would like to see more of Middle Earth," I answered in all honesty, "I have heard great tales and verse on many places of wonder, but have not had the fortune to gaze upon them with my own eyes."
"You shouldn�t fear that," He flicked the reins and his chestnut flicked his tail at some imaginary flies, "It�s in your blood. It would be a crime to prevent you from doing so." Father paused, and looked as though some long forgotten memory stirred in his eyes, "I had hoped you would be older, though."
"I�m not an elf." Recalling an earlier conversation, I felt myself flush again, "I am growing older faster than you think!"
"Ah," With a wizard�s wisdom, Father turned to me with a gentle smile, "Are you sure about that? Growing older in years is not as important as growing older in terms of wisdom. And maturity."
"Oh." For some reason, I didn�t think that even the thought of planting a tomato in the middle of someone�s face was mature. "Well, he was annoying."
"That probably is the truth, but still, in the future, you should avoid insulting royalty. They seem to be a rather short-tempered bunch." He paused for a moment, "I think you�d fit in quite nicely."
"Hey!" Sure as anything, I felt my temper flare but then took a deep breath, "Right."
"But enough about all this," There were certain topics Father carefully avoided and I had a feeling I had almost touched upon one, "I had something I wanted to ask you. About your behavior. In Rivendell."
"Um . . ." I muttered, suddenly growing nervous as Father grew serious. I had almost never required any lecturing, but it seemed to be one of those situations. "Does this have anything to do with the tomato?"
"No. What tomato?" Father hesitated slightly, "Should I know about the tomato?"
"No, I don�t think you should know about the tomato!" I almost yelped and he grinned, temporarily, "Alright, if it�s not the tomato, then I must say, I have no idea."
"Before leaving, I had heard the Rivendell elves bid you farewell." He seemed to be a little unsure about this, but I nodded as the elves had wished me a nice trip, and hoped that his memory was not fading, "They called you Emily. I had thought you used your elven name in Rivendell."
"I don�t use it anywhere." I shuttered, "I like my name. And it�s not exactly mine."
"Yes, that may be so, but there is nothing wrong with the other." Father answered, somewhat coolly.
"Actually, there sort of is." I muttered, "Aranndil. What kind of name is that? Sounds like a cross between a sword and a horse."
"You know what it means." He replied, "And don�t you forget what it means."
"I won�t." I fidgeted nervously at this sudden preference, "Em just seems nice and easy to scream. As in �You�re late, Em!�"
"And I suppose the elves of Rivendell have to scream that frequently?" Father became much more amused, and the darkness of our previous topic had seemingly rolled away as though a simple summer thundershower, "Now why would that be?"
"Um . . . because they are always very, very early?" I tried weakly, and paused to think, trying to change the topic, "I wonder how things are in Hobbiton."
"Same as they always are, I�d hope." He answered, for some reason, suddenly growing somber, but announced instead, "We�re heading straight there, and not stopping in Bree."
"Good. Plenty of rats there." I shuttered and we lapsed into silence. Perhaps there was not much to comment about on the subject of rats. "In Bree, I mean." There was no answer and I straightened my light blue elven skirts which were split for riding and pulled my darker cloak about my shoulders. Funny that Arwen would select such an ensemble, representative of the lightlessness of the night and the color of a warm summer sky. Must be elven wisdom. I traveled quite light and aside from my silver elven flute, bow and quiver on Elendil, there wasn�t much else I carried, although this year, my luggage consisted of slightly more articles of clothing with Lady Arwen had insisted upon. Luckily, Elendil did not seem to mind, unlike the horse of Rohan I had used to ride. Still, it wasn�t the warmest fall I had ever experienced. Of course my toes were quite warm in tall elven riding boots, the color of the creamiest chocolate . . .
To take my mind off anything elven, I stared ahead at the road and instead of the deserted stretch which I had expected to see, a small cloud of dust which appeared to have been made by a horse appeared. "Ah, another rider." I murmured and brought Elendil to my side of the road, "Seems to be alone."
"Where?" Father looked on ahead, and turned to me in confusion, "I don�t see anything!"
"Well, he�s coming. Clothed in black." I lifted a hand to shade my eyes from the sun, "His steed seems a little wary and carries a blade."
"I still can�t see anything!" He was sounding a little impatient, "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I�m sure," I mumbled, and looked again, "In a few words, maybe �travel-stained� could sum him up."
"Just one? Are you sure?" Father seemed to relax as soon as I nodded, "Ah, I see him now." I settled back down and as I twisted my fingers about the leather reins, I wondered if Lady Arwen could teach me to ride in the elven fashion next summer. "Good. I have wanted to see him."
"Who is it?" Although I could see the person quite clearly, my face-name recognition was slightly poor and I did not recall the other individual, "Is he a friend or a foe?"
"He can be a bit of both, I�d suppose." Father answered ambiguously, and I could not ask anymore for the rider was already nearly upon us and reining his horse in. "You don�t need to deal with him."
"Oh." I mumbled and slowed Elendil to a halt behind the stopped cart, marveling slightly at how all the firecrackers bumped against each other at each stop, but none ever fell out nor were damaged.
"How are things?" The other asked, and I thought that the deep and slightly breathless voice was familiar, but I couldn�t placed it. It didn�t help that the rider had decided to hide his identity with a quite large sweeping weather stained black cloak, its hood drawn over his head. I held my tongue, although if I could, I would have suggested that a nice tub of hot water or perhaps a holiday would have suited the other individual. "I have delivered him to Mirkwood."
"All the better, I would suppose. The elves will take care of him." Father replied with a slight sigh, and neither he nor the rider in black seemed ready to spend a lot of time here, as though it were far too open. "Things are fine with me. And you?"
"As fine as they can be." He answered, and as though seeing me for the first time, raised his hand almost in a cross between a wave and a salute, "More like an elven maiden each day, eh?"
"Um . . ." I couldn�t figure out if this was supposed to be a compliment, "Um . . ."
"I suppose I�d best be going," The rider turned to Father once again, "But I�d dare say our paths will cross again fairly soon."
"Don�t they always seem to?" Father laughed, and with a final nod, the rider disappeared into a cloud of dust and we were on our way once again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Just as I had expected. Same as always." Father announced as we finally left the woods and the thin fields behind us and our road led us to endless pastures of waving green grasses and a slightly hilly landscape. If I had not been on the lookout for them, I would have missed the little round doors of various colors and their brass doorknobs appearing in some of these hills, as well as the little brick chimneys from which wisps of gray smoke emerged. I grinned as I soon began to recognize well tended patches of gardens with flourishing vegetables and beautiful flowers, all becoming much more apparent as my mind adjusted to seeing these homey hobbit holes emerging from what seemed to be the wild. Last and certainly not the least of all, the hobbits themselves bustling about their everyday business became apparent to my own eyes. The Shire had never failed to surprise me, yet. As I looked about me quickly like the tourist I was, Elendil was quite content to follow Father�s cart on the now cobblestone paths, freeing my attentions to my sightseeing.
"It�s so different, but yet as beautiful as Rivendell!" I exclaimed excitedly but noticed that the hobbits did not look all that pleased to see us. "Um, is it something I said?"
"No, more like something I did." Father chuckled pleasantly, "Ah, hobbits are a folk not too fond of leaving behinds the comforts of home. Bilbo Baggins, however, is a notable exception."
"There are notable exceptions to many things." I murmured almost to myself as the hobbit holes grew fewer and we entered the countryside, "I�ve never been to a hobbit party. What is there to expect?"
"No words could do an ordinary hobbit party justice," Father replied, "Much less to one of Bilbo�s."
"So you have known this hobbit for a long time?" I asked, having met this hobbit and his heir, Frodo, on my previous and only other visit to the Shire, "I seem to hear about him frequently and when his name is linked with yours, treasure and dragons seem also to be suggested."
"Ah, that incident." He sighed, perhaps recalling a fond memory and began blowing a few green smoke rings from his pipe, and I knew that he was trying to think hard. "A rather long tale. Perhaps on the road to Minas Tirith."
"Until then." I nodded and remained silent as Father apparently knew where he was going and turned his chestnut off the well beaten path onto a smaller dirt road, half-singing under his breath. Elendil followed eagerly, and I let her, with a soft word of encouragement and a small pat, "Elven horses are so nice!" I sighed to myself and to Elendil, "I hope I shall never have to part with you � "
"You�re late!" The exclamation came so suddenly, I nearly toppled from by mount�s back, but she shifted slightly, allowing me to settle back on. Why couldn�t someone greet me normally instead with the constant you�re late! Well, obviously! Except this time, no deadline was given.
"No I�m not!" I whispered softly in response. I stared at Father. It wasn�t he who had spoken, but we were alone. And if it was Elendil who had spoken . . . It wasn�t. Atop of the slight hill to our right, a rather small, fine featured hobbit stood, his arms crossed in feigned anger across his chest, the slight breeze ruffling his dark brown curly locks. And I realized he wasn�t talking to me. He didn�t even seem to realize I was there. Fortunately.
I didn�t answer, and Father did, slowly, "A wizard is never late Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to." One point to Glorifield.
There was a slight pause, and the hobbit looked torn between daring to argue this point and bursting into tears. Fortunately, he did neither, but burst into laughter and leapt into Father�s arms where a warm hug awaited. Elendil shuffled a little nervously underneath me and I whispered softly to her.
I grinned mostly to myself as hobbit and wizard shared a warm reunion and I reckoned I was used to being in the shadows. Frodo Baggins. Ah, the little hobbit had changed so much since I had last seen him, but alas, at that time he had been a new addition to Bilbo�s family and much time has passed since then. Perhaps �little� were not the correct term to refer to him as. In years, his numbered more than my own, although the stature of his people were different from that of my folk.
"Oh Gandalf!" Frodo was saying, "It�s so wonderful to see you again!" And before I could feel too left out, he waved cheerily to me, settling himself on the long wooden seat of the cart next to Father, "And you too, of course, Em."
"Same to you, Frodo." I acknowledged, and as the hobbit balanced on the back of the seat so that he could talk with both of us, I asked, "So how are things in the Shire?"
"Oh same as always!" Frodo sighed, "How are the elves? What news of the outside world? Tell me everything!" I doubted that the hobbits would be interested in my problems with tardiness so I let Father answer.
"Everything? You�re far to curious and interested for a hobbit!" Father sighed, but seemed to be delighted, "Most unnatural."
"I�m so glad that both of you could make it to the Party!" Frodo laughed, "Half�s the Shire�s been invited and the rest of the Shire will show up anyway!"
"It sounds like fun," I grinned, "A long expected party!"
"It�s that alright!" The hobbit gave Father another warm hug, "I�m so glad you�re back!"
"I must be heading up to Bag End." Father seemed much more excited than I had ever seen him in quite a long period of time, and he turned to Frodo, "You wouldn�t mind showing Em around, now would you? Your Uncle Bilbo and I may be a bit of time, and we have a bit of something we�d like to discuss."
"No problem at all!" Frodo quickly hopped off the side of the cart and waved to me as I slowed Elendil, "There�s so much I�d like to show you!"
"And there�s so much I�d like to see!" I slid off my horse and realized that the last time I had spent time with Frodo we were much closer to the same height and we had both been much younger. Would time have erased that friendship? Luckily, the ice between us did not even need to be broken as none had formed as he took my hand and led me to all the neighborhood haunts of the woods, a favorite fishing hole, and the place which had blueberries in season. The afternoon passed in a pleasant blur and finally, we came to a large clearing in which we had an impromptu picnic tea from whatever elvish treats I had managed to scrounge up from Elendil�s saddlebags in a small clearing to which Frodo had often come to read.
"I�m so glad the Shire hasn�t changed one bit!" I exclaimed excitedly over tea as Elendil roamed near us, nibbling at the tender grasses, "It�s as though I�ve never left!"
"Perhaps you haven�t." Frodo answered, helping himself to another cherry tart, "Elvish cuisine seems to keep fresh for a long period of time."
"Yes, these were sent from Lady Arwen." I answered, finishing off my own, "She�s so kind to me." I paused for a slight second, "Would you happen to know how to play speed chess?"
"No." The hobbit smiled, "I�d imagine Bilbo would, however. You�ll have plenty of time to learn from him."
"We all have plenty of things to learn from him," I grinned, and wondered what Father and the old hobbit were discussing, "Perhaps they are finalizing some of the party details. Tonight, eh?"
"Yes, you have arrived precisely on time, to give Gandalf credit," Frodo looked quite pleased, "They�re planning something. I know it. And it�s going to be the greatest surprise all the hobbits in the Shire have ever seen!"
"And that I�d have ever seen!" I felt myself get swept up in the excitement of it all, "Shouldn�t we be doing something to help? Maybe set up something?"
"Don�t you worry about a thing." Frodo laughed, "It�s all arranged. I�d like to introduce you to some of my friends however, but that can wait until tonight. I suppose we could head back to Bag End now." He looked a little nervously at Elendil, "You don�t suppose I could go for a spin on him? I hear elven steeds are quite fast."
"She�s Elendil." I corrected, and whistled softly to her, "We could ride back to Bag End."
"Oh . . . but she�s a horse." The hobbit looked pretty nervous, and as I tidied up our things, he looked about at the horse, "And I�ve never ridden a horse before."
"Do not worry. She is an elven mare and will not let fall any rider I command her to bear." Quite easily, I lifted the hobbit into the saddle, and mounted myself behind him, "There. We will ride together, and never fear Frodo, son of Drogo, this is one horse from which you will not topple."
"Ah, for this is one thing even Bilbo has not experienced!" Frodo almost squeaked with excitement and I found ourselves a large, clear and open field, letting Elendil out to a full gallop back towards the direction in which Father had headed to Bag End, and the hobbit enjoyed every last moment of it, the wind whipping through our hair and the ground passing smoothly beneath us in a continuous ribbon of green. "Must learn to ride elven horse!" Frodo laughed as he directed me to Bag End, a hobbit hole of large sizes and almost legendary comfort inhabited by the �strange� Bilbo Baggins and his heir.
"Ah, they are still here." Loosely tying the reins of Elendil to the fence beside Father�s chestnut, Frodo and I pushed open a large gate marked No Admittance � Except on Party Business and headed up a small garden path to a little round hobbit door with a shiny brass knob precisely in its middle. I paused before knocking, "Perhaps they are still busy. Maybe we should wait out here."
Frodo nodded but before we could wander away, the round window to the study opened and an older, but still lively looking hobbit poked his head out and grinned excitedly at seeing us, "Oh, come on in! Come on in! Don�t just stand out there!" And before I could say anything in response, the little hobbit door swung open and Frodo marched on in, giving his uncle who was standing at the door another warm hug. I must have looked slightly uncomfortable, but headed on in anyway, being careful not to smack my head against the rather low hobbit-sized home.
"Mr. Bilbo Baggins," I grinned a little, "You too, have not changed much since I have last seen you."
"Ah, but you, my dear, have." Bilbo answered, and shooed us into what seemed to be a little tea alcove where what seemed to be pre-dinner appetizers were spread out across the table behind which Father sat, pipe in mouth. "I suppose you are looking forward to tonight."
"Yes, we are." Frodo became very interested in some battered mushrooms, and looked from wizard to hobbit, "What is the big surprise you�re planning?"
"Ah, you know about it." Bilbo seemed pleased and settled into an armchair himself, and lit a pipe, "But if we told you, it wouldn�t be a surprise, now would it?"
"I suppose not." The younger hobbit looked slightly disappointed, but quickly brightened and turned to me, "Would you like me to show you to your room? You must be tired after all your adventures . . ." Before I could say that I was not tired and that I had the endurance of elves, the little hobbit had already begun to lead the way down a long corridor and I waved a small goodbye to both Bilbo and Father who nodded in return.
"Bag End is rather large." I tried to strike up a conversation, "Horizontally."
"Yes, it is." Frodo seemed to know exactly where he was going and stopped before a door, "East side. One of the best rooms. They had the round windows that look out over the Shire." He pushed the door open, and looked in, "Ah, Sam has already brought in all your things."
"Sam?" I asked, not recalling the name as we entered the rather comfy little homey room, and I found my belongings piled up tidily by the bed, "Um, who is Sam?"
"Ah, you have not yet met Samwise," Another hobbit, a little rounder about the waist and with sandy blonde hair came into the room and Frodo patted him on his shoulder, "The Gamgees look out on things around Bag End, wonderful gardeners."
"I�m sure," I gave a little nod to Sam who looked ready to scurry away, "I�ve heard wonderful things about you." Not exactly true, but not exactly a lie either. Frodo, about two seconds ago had told me that he was a wonderful gardener so I had on a technicality heard wonderful things about him. Frodo introduced me in turn and as Sam finally took a deep breath and seemed to relax slightly as though I had been dangerous before hand and seemingly was less so as I was related to the wizard.
"I�ve been asked to come inform you that Mr. Bilbo�s party is about to begin!" Sam squeaked, excitedly, "And that the fireworks begin at sundown!
"Ah, that would be about now," Frodo looked out the window and gave me a smile, "So, should we be going?"
"Um," It was my turn to look about uncomfortably, "I don�t think I�m dressed for the occasion."
"You look fine to me." Sam offered, but added, "And hopefully to everyone else too."
"Then I suppose that settles it." I must have heaved a larger sigh than I had intended, "Let us go, then."
"Oh, Gandalf�s fireworks are something no one should miss!" Frodo became quite excited, as we left my room (I was going to have trouble finding it again later), "So many colors and �"
Suddenly, the entire room shook violently, burst into a flash of light and sound louder than any thunderclap filled my ears which I clasped my hands quickly over. But as suddenly as it had began, it was over. I looked around through the disturbed dust of Bag End and called out for the hobbits, "Sam? Frodo?" There was no answer.