HEALED

“May the stars shine upon the end of your road!” Gildor, The Fellowship of the Ring

“They knew,” Gandalf assured her. “They understood fully, long before we sailed, that this was the only way mortals would be permitted to dwell here; the transformation occurred aboard ship, as they slept.”

CelebrÍan knelt and smiled at the toddlers, who smiled shyly at her in return. Dark hair and golden, eyes deep as the summer sky and the lighter blue of a gentle morn, their spirits were radiantly bright.They are even more exquisite than my dreams showed, CelebrÍan thought. She held out her arms, and the children came to her without hesitation, both nestling against her contentedly. Oh, to hold children in my arms once again. How I love you already.

“Look, look!” The boys squirmed out of her arms and ran to chase a large yellow butterfly that flitted, playfully, just out of reach. Elrond, CelebrÍan, and Gandalf stood watching them caper about, listening to the song that filled the air -- the unrestrained laughter of children who had never known pain, or been crushed by grief, or fear, or loss.

And as Frodo and Bilbo ran and tumbled and giggled, Gandalf smiled to himself. In Middle-earth, many years from now -- although it would seem to these children that only a few years had passed -- Sam would be offered the same choice as they, as would Pippin and Merry at the end of their long lives. He foresaw that they would all accept, and five very special youngsters would grow up here together, happy, safe, and loved. He knew that they would flourish, each eventually pursuing the true calling of his heart: explorer, poet, artist, singer, and scribe.

"We will all be their teachers," Gandalf murmured, "and the stars will guide their hearts."

“Little has changed in this land for a long span of years,” CelebrÍan remarked. “I suspect that these little ones will also teach -- and bring joy to many.”

And bring new purpose to at least one, Elrond thought, looking at his wife’s radiant face.

“Might they wonder, in the years to come, about their past?” Elrond asked quietly. “Although growing up amongst Elves, they will carry within them still the unquenchable curiosity of their race.”

“Are you to be ‘Gandalf’, then?” Elrond teased his old friend. “OlÓrin suits you better.”

The wizard smiled. “Others may call me what they will; but I cannot imagine being called anything else by a hobbit.” He obligingly swung the child up and settled him securely on one of his shoulders. Bilbo raised his arms to be carried, too, and Elrond, grinning, swooped him up and set him on the wizard's other shoulder.

CelebrÍan, walking with the small procession back to her home, found herself laughing and singing with joy. Elrond took her hand, and kissed it. At last, his beloved was truly healed.

High up on his perch, Bilbo swung his tiny legs with glee. Frodo, one hand clutching Gandalf's ear, yawned sleepily. After lunch would come naptime, curled up in soft, fragrant blankets while someone sang to him in a language he was just beginning to learn. Gandalf and Elrond exchanged a glance, their hearts light. There would be no shadows in Frodo's life, not this time -- unless one counted a brief flicker that suddenly shaded them all. Both children tilted their heads back, and gazed in wonder at the eagles soaring far overhead, aloft on a gentle wind.

Frodo blinked awake, his nest of blankets and pillows so warm and downy-soft, he could almost have been floating. The large, airy room he shared with Bilbo was lit by the gentle rays of morning sunshine. The island did not grow fully light until late afternoon, when Arien guided the Sun overhead from the east, to where it would disappear at last into the uttermost west.

CelebrÍan entered the room, and Frodo scurried undercover. She smiled and sat on the bed, gently pulling away blankets until she uncovered the smiling face of her mischievous little one.

“Mm hm,” Frodo murmured. His eyes fell on the third small bed, recently constructed and ready for another hobbit-child to arrive. “When will he get here?”

“When the ship is near, Gandalf will come for you,” CelebrÍan said softly. “Do you remember your ride on the ship?”

“A little bit.” Frodo laughed suddenly, his eyes sparkling. “Bilbo and I saw lots of fishes.”

“Bri,” Frodo asked seriously, “Why doesn’t Bilbo dream about Sam, too?”

“We all have different gifts, dear one. Your dreams take you far, and someday you will travel far on your own. This island is very large, and there are more than a dozen smaller ones near us; I believe you will be permitted to walk upon each, and learn what they have to teach you. Bilbo’s gift is an ear -- and heart -- for the way words intertwine to become poem, song or story; even now, he is beginning to weave his own tales. Each gift is unique; Elrond is a healer.”

CelebrÍan stroked the dark curls. “Gandalf tells me that Sam’s gift is that of an artist, Frodo. He will desire to arrange flowers, trees -- perhaps even the land itself -- into pleasing shapes and mixtures of color and texture. He will bring much beauty to our home, and help you and Bilbo to hear the language of all growing things. He will be an artisan amongst us, honored and content.”

Frodo was too young to understand everything she was saying, but as long as his dream-friend would be happy here, that was all that mattered.

“You must speak this way to Sam,” CelebrÍan said, switching to Westron. “Do you remember how?”

As the graceful ship glided toward the dock, Gandalf sat beside one of the fountains, his now-youthful face turned to the youngster on his lap. Frodo had his hands clasped together tightly.

Frodo looked up at his friend. “What if Sam didn’t dream of me?” he asked anxiously. “He won’t know who I am, Gandalf. What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Frodo,” Gandalf said gently, “I cannot say whether or not Irmo has sent Sam such dreams as you have received. But even if he does not know you, there is no power in this world that can keep the two of you from becoming friends.”

“There are few certainties in life,” Gandalf smiled. “But in this case... yes, Frodo. I promise.”

“Sam will be very young when he arrives, Frodo -- as young as you and Bilbo were when you came here.”

“I know that,” Frodo said impatiently. “Oh Gandalf!” he suddenly leaped to his feet. “Is he sick?”

“Remain here for a moment,” Gandalf said softly. He stood up, and quickly approached an Elf who had just come down the ramp from the ship.

“Gandalf,” the Elf smiled. “You have changed greatly, but I recognize your Song.” He looked around the beautiful harbor. “My heart drew me home, and I have come. I long to see my lord once again, and the Lady CelebrÍan. Is she well?”

“She is healed of all hurts,” the wizard smiled. “CelebrÍan spent much time here teaching the young ones born on the island -- but Elrond believes it is the hobbits who have completed her healing.” He motioned to the toddler in Erestor’s arms. “Thank you for bringing Sam to us.”

“He has been very confused and fretful,” Erestor said, kissing the small forehead gently. “We did what we could to comfort him.”

Gandalf sighed. “Frodo and Bilbo had each other aboard ship, and also, Elrond was there to ease them until their spirits were settled. Sam had neither.”

Hearing his name, the tearful lad looked around, and into the wizard’s kindly face. He smiled slightly.

Gandalf smiled back. He remembered the first time he had seen Sam at this age, long ago -- an active, curious youngster, well-loved by his family and proud of his new baby sister.

“Sam,” Gandalf said softly in Westron, “I am Gandalf. We are very happy you are here. There is someone who is most anxious to see you.” He took the golden-haired boy from the Elf’s arms and set him gently on the ground, facing the fountain.

Frodo could bear it no longer. He walked forward until he was just inches from the child.

Sam’s eyes grew wide with wonder, and he slowly reached up to touch Frodo’s cheek. Suddenly he threw himself into the older boy’s arms and clung tightly. “Frodo?” he whispered.

“You do!” Frodo cried with delight, hugging his dream-friend. “Oh Sam, you’ve come! You’re here!”

Sam laughed, his eyes sparkling with joy. Everything was strange and new, but… Frodo’s here! He felt... safe. “Don’t let go,” he implored. The arms around Frodo tightened further.

“I won’t.” Frodo looked up at Gandalf joyfully. “You were right, Gandalf! You knew!”

“There are few certainties in life,” Gandalf smiled. “But in this case...”

“It is good to hear Sam laugh,” Erestor smiled with relief. “His greatest comfort has been dreaming about his ‘bestest friend Frodo’, and...” He gazed down in wonder. “This is the Ring-bearer?” he asked with awe. “His Song has become...” The Elf’s eyes filled with tears of joy.

“Yes,” Gandalf said softly. “He, too, has been healed, Erestor. A new Age has dawned for Frodo... for you... and for others yet to arrive.”

Clad in his nightshirt, Bilbo ran into the spacious hall where Elrond and CelebrÍan sat together, talking. “Sam’s asleep,” he announced. “He’s very shy, but I like him.” Bilbo grinned suddenly. “He likes my stories.”

“Ah, he is too young to hear the mischief in your tales and misdeeds, my lad,” Elrond laughed, bending to kiss Bilbo goodnight. “He will grow less shy, and soon have stories of his own to tell.”

“When will he learn Elvish?” Bilbo asked curiously. “Stories don’t sound the same when I tell them like this,” he added, speaking in Westron.

“He will learn quickly, as you did,” CelebrÍan said, rising to her feet. “I will sit each night by Sam’s bed and sing to him, as I did with you. Come.” She walked with Bilbo to the boys’ bedroom and, as Bilbo launched himself onto his bed, she paused by the door, a smile lighting her face. Frodo had moved his bed to within inches of Sam’s, and each boy lay fast asleep, holding tight to one another’s hand.

“Three now,” Elrond murmured, coming to stand behind CelebrÍan. He wrapped his arms around his wife, who sighed with contentment. “A most unexpected family, is it not?”

“Yes,” CelebrÍan agreed. “And a most welcome one. How dear they are to me.”

“And to me,” Elrond smiled. He drew her into the room. “Sam needs both of us this night, my love. His spirit is still unsettled, and needs healing.”

The two Elves seated themselves by Sam’s bed, and Bilbo lay awake, listening to the singing -- calm and soft and loving -- until he fell into a peaceful sleep.

The merry voice of Pippin came to him. He was running on the green turf and singing. – The Fellowship of the Ring

“I think it will be tonight,” Pippin said. He leaned on the ship’s rail, gazing at the brilliant sunset with its clouds tinged in pink, purple, and gold. “I just feel it.”

Merry nodded. “Yes, there’s... something. I feel it, too.” He turned to look at his cousin and dearest friend. “We’ll be children again,” he said in awe. “No more aches and pains, no more feeling so tired, that---”

“And Frodo will grow to be the tallest of us, again,” Pippin smiled. “What a shame -- I’ve enjoyed being the tallest.”

“I can still hardly believe this is happening,” Merry said softly. He touched his cousin’s face, creased with age. “I remember what you looked like when you were a toddler.” He grinned. “And I remember what youwere like. The Elves will have to put you on a leash to keep you out of mischief.”

“I’ll have company,” Pippin chuckled. He looked into Merry’s eyes. “Will we remember anything from... before?”

“Pippin,” Merry said with utter certainty, “we will know each other. How could we not?”

Pippin smiled and leaned his forehead against his cousin’s. “You’re right,” he whispered. “How could we not?”

“Frodo’s dreams are quite astonishing,” CelebrÍan said. She and her mother sat beneath Celeborn, the revered white tree of Tol EressËa, the remains of a picnic spread around them. “He knew there was a special tree growing here, and has been begging to see it.”

“The gifts that are part of his essence have been greatly magnified,” Galadriel agreed. “It is true of all three of them. Frodo dreamed of the tree, but it is Sam who recognizes its uniqueness...”

“...and Bilbo who will craft a poem about it,” CelebrÍan smiled. “I suspect that Sam is learning our tongue so quickly to ensure that he will not miss a word of Bilbo’s fanciful tales.”

“Bri,” Bilbo asked, running up to them, “Sam wants to know if he can take a bit of the tree home with us -- to plant and watch grow.”

“Bilbo,” CelebrÍan laughed, “I believe you would rather run than do anything -- even eat.”

“I can do both,” the child grinned. He grabbed three large strawberries from a bowl and ran back to where Frodo and Sam were lying on their bellies in the grass, examining some flowers.

“It is Yavanna who would need to give permission to disturb the tree,” Galadriel mused. “Perhaps...”

“So you believe that even the Valar would be charmed by our little ones?” CelebrÍan chuckled. “And there will soon be two others. Tell me more about them.”

“Merry, as I knew him, was thoughtful and courageous. He had a true and valiant heart. As for Pippin...” Galadriel smiled. “When I last saw him, he was not yet an adult, as the hobbits reckon age. Do you remember when Frodo arrived here... the lightness of his spirit and innocent nature? Pippin is much like him.”

“I will hold him to my heart, and Merry -- as I do these three.” CelebrÍan gazed at Frodo thoughtfully. “Frodo says that his ‘new friend Pippin’ sings to him in his dreams, and that Merry is ‘very smart’. He’s been so excited, and now Sam and Bilbo are as eager as he to bring Pippin and Merry into our family. I did not know that a mortal could dream with such clarity.”

“He sees far, even when awake,” Galadriel said. “It will serve him well. His explorations will take him in many new directions, and he will light his own way. Frodo may well learn things about our realm even we do not know.”

“Speaking of light, what became of the phial you gave him?” CelebrÍan asked curiously. “I have heard much about it.”

“Frodo brought it with him, but when he grew younger aboard ship he remembered nothing of it. I have kept it safe. We will give it back to him, someday, when it is time.”

“Bri!” Frodo came up to them, trailed by Sam and Bilbo. “We should start back.”

Galadriel opened her arms, and Frodo tumbled into them, laughing. “What do you have there, dear one?” she asked. Frodo opened his hand and displayed a small, golden blossom. “It is calledelanor,” she told him.

“May we,” CelebrÍan corrected automatically, then smiled at the eager youngster. “You may.”

As they returned home, CelebrÍan and Galadriel walked serenely, talking quietly, while the three children ran and laughed, playing ‘tag’. It was a walk of several miles, and when little Sam grew tired, CelebrÍan carried him, singing softly, until he fell asleep in her arms.

Galadriel smoothed back a lock of her daughter’s golden hair. “You are happy,” she murmured.

“Yes,” CelebrÍan replied. “I long to see my own children, and always will -- but the hobbits have helped to heal my heart. I could not love them more.”

Each ship that arrived from Middle-earth was met by joyous crowds, and this time Elrond and his family waited.

“Merry and Pippin will not remember us,” Galadriel said to Elrond, “but I look forward to seeing them again.”

Two very young hobbits walked hesitantly down the ramp, an Elf behind them with a gentle hand on each of their shoulders. Merry clung fiercely to Pippin’s hand, and looked wary.

CelebrÍan felt tears running down her cheeks. Before each of the five hobbit children arrived, she had dreamed of them, had felt their spirit and embraced them in her heart. These two would complete her family, she knew.

“He doesn’t think anyone can take care of Pippin as well as he can. He thinks they’ll be separated.” Frodo smiled suddenly. “Pippin just wants a nap.”

“Come on,” Frodo said. He and Bilbo walked forward, but Sam ran ahead impatiently.

“I’m not,” Merry said stubbornly, but pulled Pippin closer to him. The three children before him looked familiar -- as if images from a dream he couldn’t quite remember. This whole place... everything seemed familiar, somehow. Welcoming. But...

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” the older, dark-haired child said. Frodo. Merry suddenly found a name in his mind. Such bright, blue eyes... I know you, don’t I?

“Pippin,” Frodo said softly. The tiny child looked up at him, and Frodo realized that Gandalf was right -- he did know what to do. He began to sing -- a simple song, of green hills and laughing rivers that Pippin had sung to him over and over in a dream. Pippin laughed, although he didn’t know what was making him so suddenly happy. On an impulse, he wriggled his hand out of Merry’s and held up his arms. Frodo lifted the child and hugged him close, continuing to sing.

Just then, a brilliantly-colored bird in a nearby tree began to sing as well, a high-pitched trill which captivated all five children. Bilbo held up one hand, and the bird flew down and landed on his finger. “Hold up your hand,” he whispered to Merry, and the tiny bird hopped onto Merry’s finger.

Pippin bounced in Frodo’s arms, his eyes dancing. His attempts to whistle along with the bird brought smiles to everyone’s face -- even Merry’s. CelebrÍan could wait no longer, and came to join the children, Elrond following close behind.

Elrond crouched down and looked into Merry’s eyes. “We will help you love and care for Pippin,” he reassured the child. His voice was gentle, loving... and Merry felt a peaceful calm fill him. “You will never be separated, Merry,” Elrond continued. “Everything is going to be all right.”

“Come, dear ones,” CelebrÍan said. “You have had a very long trip. Let us start for home.” She smiled down at the children, who both smiled back.

“He may accompany us, if he will,” Elrond laughed. He looked at the small creature, still clinging to a delighted Merry’s finger. “TinÚviel,” he whispered, “thank you for this gift.” And the bird tilted its head at him and burst into even more joyous

“For you little gardener and lover of trees, I have only a small gift.” Galadriel, The Fellowship of the Ring

“Gently, Pip,” Sam said. He guided the boy’s small hands as they set the seedling into the moist earth. “Try to listen to what the plant is saying; it knows what it needs.”

“Not so,” Sam smiled. “Every living thing has its own song; it’s up to us to listen, and learn what is being said.”

CelebrÍan chuckled quietly. “Not so” was an expression Elrond used often. She, Gandalf, and Elrond walked nearby, enjoying the look and feel of Sam’s exquisitely sculptured garden -- one of many, all unique. The flowers and fountains attracted many of the tiny, colorful birds that still delighted Merry no end, and Pippin had learned to imitate the songs and trills of most of them.

“Sam is one of the few who can keep Pippin still for such a length of time,” Elrond smiled. “That lad has more energy than the other four combined.”

“Pippin grew up the first time with three older sisters,” Gandalf said, “and now has four brothers. He will learn different things from each of them.”

Pippin got down on his belly and began to sing, softly -- of warm earth, and soothing rain, and fresh green, growing things. Sam could sense the seedling responding to the love and attention. He nodded. “Now try again,” he encouraged the lad, and Pippin lay quietly, trying to hear whatever the plant had to say.

Elrond chuckled. “Bilbo is writing a new song for Pippin to sing with him. I told Erestor that he will soon have competition in the Great Hall.”

“He agreed! There are few...” Elrond’s voice died as, from different directions, Frodo, Merry, and Bilbo came running as if summoned -- then halted at the very edge of the garden.

The air seemed to shimmer and pulse. The entire garden lit up, and from behind a tree stepped the source of the light -- a woman of indescribable beauty. Her gown gave the impression of layers of cloud briefly hiding the sun, and its colors were of pure greens, gentle earth, the sparkle of dew on early-morning grass...

Gandalf and Elrond bowed their heads, and CelebrÍan sank to her knees -- but Sam and Pippin jumped to their feet. Sam hastily brushed the dirt off his tunic, and Pippin’s, as the beautiful lady approached them. For the rest of his life, Sam would swear that she was just his height -- or had he, for a moment, become her height? Pippin would remember that, as she approached, a music grew in his ears the likes of which he would spend a lifetime trying to reproduce. He realized that it was the garden -- every tree, flower, and blade of grass singing in harmony -- at last he heard its song.

“Sam,” the lady said softly, “hold out your hands.” Sam did so, and she gently deposited into them a round fruit, bursting with promise, banded in silver and gold.

“When the Tree chooses to bear fruit,” she continued, “it is safeguarded by he or she best prepared to receive and nurture it. Continue to follow your heart, my child, and do not doubt yourself. I am never far away.”

Dazzled, Sam felt a faint touch upon his forehead -- a caress, or perhaps a kiss. The radiant woman caught and held the eye of each child for a moment, and CelebrÍan, too, felt a gentle kiss on her forehead -- then the light slowly faded, and the lady was gone.

Pippin looked dazed. Merry ran to his side, and Pippin clung to him. Bilbo dug his toes into the soil. Something felt different... something...

“Sam,” Elrond said quietly, “there are very few who have seen Yavanna -- and fewer who have been honored with her words and trust.”

“Who is she?” Sam begged. He held the glowing fruit gently. “Is this from the special tree?”

“It is, indeed,” Gandalf said, his voice warm and rich. “Come.” He sat in the grass, and the five children ran to sit before him. “Let me tell you a very special, very old story -- a story of which you are now a part. It is time you learned of the Valar -- the powers of earth and sea, wind, stars, and all that grows. Now then, where to begin?” Gandalf looked down into the five eager faces and smiled. “Well then, a very long time ago...”

After supper, when the earth had cooled and the gardens were at their most fragrant, Sam planted the fruit near the house where it would get equal measures of sun and shade. Bilbo and Frodo dug the hole into which Sam gently laid the fruit. It was covered over, and Merry sprinkled the ground with sweet water while Pippin sang. And neighbors came and joined in the song, and celebrated, rejoicing to be witnessing such a rare event.

Galadriel came to her daughter’s side and took her hand. “You were correct,” she said softly. “The Valar have read the hearts of these children, and hold them in high esteem.”

As the evening wore on, Pippin fell fast asleep in Erestor’s lap and was carried to bed, soon joined by Merry and Sam. Bilbo and Frodo lay on the soft grass, gazing at the stars. The singing drifted around them like a sparkling mist, and after awhile, they, too, were nearly asleep. CelebrÍan and Elrond came to gather them gently into their arms and take them to their beds.

“I’m not tired,” Frodo insisted as CelebrÍan tucked him in. She smiled as Frodo yawned, his luminous eyes laboring to remain open. “I want to stay up,” he murmured, “and hear... the singing...”

“Close your eyes,” CelebrÍan whispered, “and listen. Just listen...” And she sat with him until he fell into sleep, her heart full, and her eyes radiant with joy.

The next day, Elrond took the boys to the nearby stretch of beach that had become one of the family’s favorite spots. Sam gathered smooth, sparkling stones with which he planned to adorn the area where the new Tree would grow. Bilbo and Merry ran about, the sand warm and powder-fine beneath their feet, while Frodo stood with his eyes closed, his smiling face tilted up to the sun. When he opened his eyes, he laughed and called out to Bilbo, Sam, and Merry.

“Look what Pippin’s doing,” Frodo said, pointing toward the surfline. Elrond was walking idly along the wet sand, leaving large footprints which Pippin was diligently trying to step into with long strides and hops. “Do you think he knows about his little shadow?”

They grinned as Elrond suddenly whirled about, grabbed Pippin, and lifted the young hobbit high above his head. Pippin shrieked with glee as the Elf lord swung him about.

“Look!” Pippin cried as he hung upside down. He pointed down into the clear water. Hundreds of colorful fish swam unconcernedly around Elrond’s legs.

Startled, Elrond pulled the boy upright and into his arms, gazing with concern into the bright green eyes. Did the hobbits feel unbearably different? Were they self conscious about being so small, or that their hair was not the same as that of their friends? Were they unhappy?

“’Course not,” Pippin giggled. “Everybody’s different. It would be too boring, otherwise.” He looked into the Elf lord’s ageless eyes, puzzled. “Don’t you think so?”

“I certainly do,” Elrond smiled. “Ah, young one, how did you grow so wise, so soon?”

“Look!” Pippin said again, pointing to where a flock of white gulls flew over the sparkling water. And Elrond lifted him high, swinging him up, up... until Pippin felt that he almost had wings, himself.

Notes: There is a passage in this chapter copied directly from The Two Towers. Narsilion is Quenya for ‘of the sun and the moon’.

Chapter 5 -- Now and Always

“They’re so beautiful!” Merry whispered. The small herd of miniature deer raised their heads at the hushed sound, then relaxed and continued to graze.

Four hobbits lay on their bellies in the dew-wet grass, enjoying the rare sight. They had waited, nearly motionless, since dawn, in the patient manner they had absorbed from the Elves. Bilbo also lay on his belly, but the sight he was enjoying was different than the others. With one of the spyglasses Gandalf had given them pressed firmly to his right eye, he slowly surveyed the coast from the high dune on which they lay.

“What are you looking for?” Pippin asked.

“I’m just... looking,” Bilbo replied thoughtfully. He lowered the spyglass and smiled at the youngster. “I love watching the Sea. I wonder about all the creatures living in it, and why it’s salty, and how it would be to sail far, far away and see the Island from out there...” His voice trailed away and the others grinned knowingly.

“I fear we’ll lose Bilbo to the Sea someday,” Merry said to Frodo in the mix of Westron and Quenya the hobbits used when together. “You’ve seen the maps, haven’t you? It’s a long way to Middle-earth.”

“Bilbo doesn’t want to sail east,” Frodo said, “but further West. So do I.”

“Where the Valar live?” Pippin asked, wide eyed. “Can you?”

“Who knows?” Frodo said thoughtfully. “Gandalf says that this is a new Age, with many things now possible that were once thought impossible.”

“Which Age is it?” Sam asked.

“Elrond calls it the Fourth,” Bilbo said. “I wonder who’s keeping track?”

“And how will we know when the Fifth Age begins?” Merry grinned.

“You won’t care if it does,” Pippin teased. “You’ll be so deeply into your scrolls and books, the whole island could break off and sail into a new Age, and you’d hardly notice.”

“Loremaster,” Bilbo said proudly. “Your apprenticeship with Elrond will be long, Merry, but well worth it.”

“I want to write down the histories and tales,” Merry said happily. “It’s one thing to tell stories aloud, and sing, but I love the feel of parchment, the smell of scrolls and...”

“We know,” Sam laughed. “We’ll let these two sail off to find adventure, and bring you new tales.”

“Without you?” Frodo asked.

“Perhaps someday,” Sam smiled. “I don’t want to go far from my gardens and trees... yet.”

“I’ll stay, too,” Pippin declared. “For now, anyway. And speaking of your gardens, the Tree is hardly a seedling anymore. Isn’t it time you named it? Gandalf says that all the White Trees get named.”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Sam mused. “It’s so very lovely -- all silver and gold... what about Narsilion?”

“I like that,” Frodo smiled.

“So do I. And we should be getting back,” Pippin said, getting to his feet slowly so as not to frighten the deer. “I’m hungry.”

*~*~*~*~*

“It is quiet without the boys around,” CelebrÍan said wistfully. She and her husband were enjoying an early breakfast on the veranda of their home.

“I agree,” Elrond said. “Going too long without hearing the laughter of hobbits is like a longing for cool water and starlight -- I can no longer imagine life without it.” He smiled. “I have been thinking so much about them, lately. They are very different from one another.”

CelebrÍan took a sip of her tea. “Merry is so quiet and thoughtful; such a contrast to Pippin, who would leave the ground and sing his life away with the birds and stars, if he could. And Sam is rooted firmly to that very ground, and draws energy and purpose from the life forces around him.”

“And then there is Bilbo,” Elrond said. “He would not imagine sitting when he can stand, or walking when he can run… it is as if he is making up for all the long years of his life when the Ring slowly drained his energy and spirit.”

“And Frodo...” CelebrÍan mused thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Elrond nodded. “He was meant for this life from the beginning, I think. If ever there was an Elf born among hobbits, it is he. He delights in even the smallest creature, the tiniest sound, color, fragrance... Perhaps not since the Firstborn awoke in Middle-earth and greeted each new thing with joy and wonder has there been such an open, eager spirit.”

CelebrÍan looked up at a faint sound. “Someone approaches.” It was Gandalf, who walked up to the house.

“Please join us,” CelebrÍan smiled in greeting.

“Thank you,” Gandalf said, taking a seat. “Where is everyone?”

“An early-morning adventure,” CelebrÍan laughed, pouring the wizard some tea. “Hobbits are ever-curious.”

“Yes,” Elrond replied. “But I wonder... how long will they remain hobbits?”

“What do you mean?” CelebrÍan asked.

“What will they retain of their true natures, as the years pass and they take on ever more Elvish ways, thought, and speech?” Elrond asked, concerned. “What will remain of what they were born to be?”

“Speaking of the boys...” CelebrÍan smiled happily as five small figures approached the house. Seeing her, Elrond, and Gandalf on the veranda, the hobbits ran to them.

“Gandalf!” Sam cried, “what do you think of 'Narsilion' as a name for the Tree?”

“Do you think the Valar will let Frodo and Bilbo visit them?” Merry asked Elrond, snatching a cake from the tea tray.

“Can we bring out the breakfast things?” Pippin asked CelebrÍan.

“May we,” Bilbo and Merry chorused.

“Bri, did you know that the little deer had babies?” Sam asked.

“Gandalf, how long can you stay?” Frodo asked. “You never finished the story. Where did Ulmo go after he anchored the Island here? Do you think we’ll ever meet him?”

Gandalf looked fondly at the eager faces, remembering a long-ago conversation.

“Mercy! What more do you want to know?”

“The names of all the stars, and of all living things, and the whole history of Middle-earth and Over-heaven and of the Sundering seas,” laughed Pippin. “Of course! What less?”

With a hearty laugh, Gandalf turned to CelebrÍan and Elrond. “Do you hear all those questions?”

“Yes...”

“You need not worry about them, Elrond,” he declared. “They’re hobbits. Now and always, most definitely, hobbits.”

**END**