By Vanessa Parry (alias Elwen)
Word Count: 930
Rating: G (suitable for all audiences)
Summary: An account of what happened soon after the Eagles saved Frodo and Sam from the erupting Mount Doom.
Author’s Note: The characters and events belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. I make no claim to owning them. This is a non profit fanfiction.
***
Gandalf finished tending to Sam and turned to see how Aragorn fared with Frodo. One of the healer’s assistants had brought hot water and basin and Aragorn was now searching beneath bushes as a surgeon tied a last stitch on the Ringbearer’s hand.
Seeing all was coming to completion, Gandalf beckoned Elrond’s sons to him. Elladan and Elrohir had been standing guard at either end of the grove of beeches in which the two hobbits were being tended. Too many folk had been trying to get a glimpse of the famed rescuers of Middle Earth. Now two rangers stepped in to replace the elves and they ran lightly to kneel at the wizard’s side.
“How may we assist?” Elladan asked, his fair features drawn with concern.
“You have been warriors for many years but you also know the lore of trees. Can you make a bed for our little heroes’ as some of your people do?” Gandalf asked hopefully, even as he kept one eye on Aragorn, who now returned with a handful of long slender athelas leaves.
Elladan and Elrohir nodded at once. “Aye. Adar taught us when we were still young enough to climb and play in the valley,” replied Elrohir.
“Then remember the distant lessons of your youth and make a bed fit for the Saviours of Middle earth. Make it big enough for two, mind you. I will not see them parted. They will need each other yet a while, I think.” As he spoke the grove was filled with the wholesome clean scent of Athelas and all paused to draw a deep relieved breath.
Elladan and Elrohir left to walk slowly up and down the grove, whispering to a tree bole here, touching a branch there. They seemed to listen and their path grew more random, as though they followed instructions from one tree to another. Finally they came to a halt between two slender silver trunks supporting several branches lower than their sister trees. Each brother leaned in to speak softly and above them the impossibly lime green leaves, but newly opened even in this mild climb, shivered softly in response.
Almost imperceptibly slowly, several lower branches swayed downward into the hands of the waiting brothers, who began to sing softly in a tongue ancient ere trees birthed sun and moon. Deftly they wove the branches they were offered and it seemed that the trees themselves aided the task, hardly waiting for long elven fingers to thread and twine them. When they stood back from their task men stepped in to spread blankets and pillows and within minutes there stood a green and fragrant bower.
Gandalf joined Elrond’s sons and pressed gently upon the newly formed bed. It gave, with a soft creak but held firm. “This is well done indeed. I had quite forgotten how comfortable such a bed can be.”
Elladan laughed softly. “The trees thank you, White Wizard. But they say that, should you seek such a bed, you should ask a slightly larger pair of trees to oblige.”
Gandalf laughed too and it seemed that the air itself grew lighter. “Have no fear. Should I seek such a bed I shall find some ancient and venerable oaks more suited to my frame. And then I shall send for you again, Master elves. For these old bones of mine have slept on hard ground too oft of late and they begin to ache.”
Now Elrohir joined his brother’s laughter. “You play your role too well, Ithryn. And I am more than certain that you could command the trees yourself. You have no need of our aid.”
As they spoke Aragorn arrived, with Frodo’s insensible form cradled carefully in his arms. The Ringbearer was still pale and drawn but peace sat upon his brow and in the small hands, no longer clenched, that lay limply in his lap. The three brothers settled him carefully in the bower while Gandalf fetched the gently snoring Sam. Soon the two companions were tucked warmly beneath blanket and coverlet, their sleep drowned heads resting on fine pillows no doubt gleaned from some Gondorian lordlings pavilion.
For some moments elf, wizard and man stood before the bower, each lost in his own thoughts and prayers. Then Elladan and Elrohir bowed to the unknowing hobbits before returning to take up their posts at either end of the grove. Aragorn sighed. “I could not leave their initial care to others but there are matters I must attend to that can be postponed no longer.”
Gandalf patted his arm, smiling his understanding. “Go, Elessar. You have a kingdom to run. I will care for our little Shirelings. My hand is no longer needed in the shaping of events for now comes the time of men.”
“I can think of no one more fitted to caring for them. But I hope that you will remain among us for a little while yet. This new king of men still has need of his wisest counsellor.”
Gandalf settled easily onto the lush grass at the bedside, his movements betraying no sign of the infirmities he laid claim to earlier. “I shall remain for a time. I have some small tasks to finish and, not least, a king to see crowned.”
Aragorn smiled and if there was an edge of worry to it Gandalf judged that a good thing. No king should sit too proud upon his throne.