Too Long to Wait: Greeting Aragorn
“Come, sweetheart,” Frodo said, leaning on the doorframe to Ellohir’s playroom. “We must get dressed in our best. Aragorn is coming today.”
Frodo had not been able to stop grinning, ever since the kind guard, the same guard that had helped him the day he had taken that dreadful fall down the stairs when Ellohir was still inside him, had informed him a few hours ago that Aragorn and his men had been seen coming toward the city and should be at the first gates of the city by late afternoon.
Frodo had pinched his cheeks and dressed in the muted blue satin shirt that Aragorn always said made his eyes look like sapphires set afire. Aragorn had been gone for nearly two months, far too long this time.
“Aragorn’s coming home!?” Ellohir yelled. “Oh, yay! Oh, yay!”
Some might have found it odd that three-year-old Ellohir called his parents by their first names, but neither Frodo nor Aragorn could determine a better solution that did not sound ridiculous. They decided not to dwell on it, as after all, what was more important was that Ellohir grow up basking in their love. In fact, none could ever convince Frodo that Ellohir was not the most adored boy in all Middle earth.
“We’ll meet him at the first gate. Do you think he would like that?”
Frodo was just as excited as Ellohir for a chance to leave the Citadel, as it had been months since he had done anything besides stepping out with Ellohir into the courtyard for fresh air.
Ellohir’s blue eyes shined bright with mischief. “We could scare him!”
“Yes, yes,” Frodo said, laughing. “That we’ll probably do. Come, let’s find your best shirt.”
After nearly an hour of gathering Ellohir’s shirt and leggings-Aragorn insisted that he wear leggings and not hobbit-like breeches, which he deemed would emphasize his unnaturally huge feet. Frodo’s feelings had been badly hurt by that last, and he now grinned, remembering how hard Aragorn had labored to make it up to him. More Elvish chocolate had been in order, as well as a special trip outside the city to the hunting lodge that had once belonged to the stewards.
Aragorn told the truth about Ellohir’s feet. Already the lad wore shoes in a size normally made for a lad of seven or eight summers. Frodo was delighted that Ellohir had tough soles, but he still made certain he wore shoes. Ironically, he had needed to convince Aragorn of this.
“I’ve seen the boy run over pebbles without flinching,” Aragorn had said dubiously.
“But we cannot take chances. What if he steps on a shard of glass or knife carelessly left about by one of the guards?” He shuddered.
“What do *you* do when you step on glass?”
Frodo gently cuffed Aragorn’s arm. “Ellohir is not fully hobbit, in case you have forgotten your role in all this. I do not trust that his feet are as tough as mine.” He smiled. “And for your information, glass *crunches* under my feet.”
“Yes, perhaps,” Aragorn said dryly. “But I still remember Caradhras. All you hobbits had to have your feet bound, unless I am mistaken in memory.”
“It doesn’t snow much in the Shire,” Frodo said.
“Very well -- Ellohir shall have shoes.”
Now Ellohir was decked out in his best, and Frodo wrapped the boy’s little cloak around his shoulders and buttoned it at his throat. “You look darling, a perfect little hobbit prince.” Frodo kissed Ellohir’s cheeks.
“Piggyback?” Ellohir begged, squeezing his arms around Frodo’s waist.
“No, I’m sorry, but that is something only Aragorn can do. Frodo’s back hurts.”
“I’ll make it better,” Ellohir said, rubbing the small of Frodo’s back. Frodo laughed, as the massage actually did make that constant ache feel better.
“Thank you, Ellohir. But I think I can do better than piggyback,” Frodo said. “How would you like to ride Samwise?”
“We get to ride the pony?” Ellohir’s eyes lit up and he clapped again, nearly stumbling over his feet. “This is the best day, Frodo. The best ever!”
***
The stable boy greeted Frodo warmly, smiling fondly at Ellohir. Frodo asked for Samwise, and the stable boy readied the pony and led him out to them.
“Where ya headed?”
“To greet the king,” Frodo said, breathing in the fresh air. The day was as fine as any he could ask for. Not too hot yet, as summer hadn’t descended in earnest, and a warm sun in a clear sky.
“He returns today?”
Frodo nodded with a smile. “One of the guards told me this morning that they shall be here by late afternoon.”
“Aye, that is good. Your pony is ready, Master Halfling. Shall I put the young master on for you?”
“That would be kind of you,” Frodo said, glad he did not need to lift Ellohir onto the pony. The boy was getting so big that lifting him was nearly impossible lately. “Thank you.”
“No trouble,” the stable boy said as he swung a giggling Ellohir up onto the pony. Samwise whinnied and pawed at the ground. “He’s been restless.”
“I really should come more often,” Frodo said, stroking Samwise’s mane and feeling a throb of guilt. Aragorn had given him the pony a few months before he had found out about Ellohir, but his health had barely allowed him to ride the pony since then. “I feel I’ve been badly neglectful of him. Ellohir so loves to ride him.”
The stable boy assisted Frodo on the pony behind Ellohir, who squirmed around to face Frodo, giggling in pure joy. Frodo’s heart rose to hear such a light-hearted sound, and he kissed Ellohir’s head before nudging Samwise to go.
They rode along the stone road that wound through the city’s upper level, and guards called out in cheerful greeting.
“Good morning!” Frodo called to them, waving back.
“Morning!” Ellohir repeated, waving in a perfect imitation of Frodo, which evoked grins from the guards.
When Frodo reached the first gate, the guard on duty looked surprised that Frodo and Ellohir were leaving the upper level.
“Have a care,” he said. “I happen to know that what the king holds most dear in all Middle earth sits atop that pony.”
Frodo blushed deeply at the guard’s frankness. “We will be just fine.”
“We’re riding the pony to see Aragorn,” Ellohir told him in a serious tone.
“Is that so?” The guard answered, matching Ellohir’s sober expression. “I wish you the best of luck then.”
“Thank you,” Ellohir said.
Ellohir kept up a nearly non-stop chatter all morning as they rode down the levels of the city. He took joy in pointing out every building, shop, and tower, and Frodo had to explain every single one of them, whether he knew what they were or not. Many people recognized them and gazed in wonder, but as they got into the lower level of the city, Frodo began to feel somewhat nervous. Perhaps he should not have taken Ellohir into this kind of environment without an armed guard. The folk there did not seem to recognize him, and many stared in frank, and to his mind, somewhat seedy curiosity. He tensed as two men blocked his passage.
“Hey, look at this,” one of the Men said. “What are you then?”
He clasped Frodo’s foot, stroking at the hair on his feet. “Are you a halfling or some kind of elf?”
Frodo’s heart began to patter at an alarming rate as he struggled to pull his foot out of the Man’s grasp. “I’ll thank you to unhand me at once,” he said, forcing himself to look into the Man’s eyes.
Ellohir whimpered and twisted around to look at Frodo. When he saw the fear in Frodo’s eyes, his chin shook.
“Shhh, Ellohir,” Frodo whispered in his ear, trying to keep his voice steady. “It’s all right.” He again met the gaze of the Men blocking his path and spoke in a stronger voice. “I would advise you step aside now or face the king’s wrath, as he is a dear friend of mine.”
“Is this what a halfling child looks like?” Before Frodo could do anything, the other Man lifted Ellohir from the pony, out of Frodo’s arms.
“Put him down!” Frodo cried in a shrill voice, stumbling off the pony. His heart fluttered against his chest like hundreds of panicked birds. “You give him back at once!” Frodo did not think about being unarmed or the danger he had put both of them in by being so well dressed in this part of the city, nor did he consider that both of these men could easily overpower him and do him harm. He could only see Ellohir, dearest to his heart, being roughly yanked from him, and it was as if his very heart had been torn from his chest. Ellohir began to cry, kicking his sturdy legs wildly. “Put me down! Put me down!”
Seeing the child’s intense terror sent waves of desperate fury through Frodo. His skin turned hot and cold, and before he could think further on it, he stooped down, picked up a pebble, and hurled it at the head of the man who held Ellohir.
“Ow!” The man howled, letting Ellohir slide to the ground. Ellohir scampered away until he was half hidden behind Samwise. The second man grabbed Frodo from behind, yanking his arms behind his back. The man who had been hit with the pebble kept his hand to his forehead, and Frodo was satisfied to see blood seeping through two of his fingers.
“Think you’re so clever, do ya, halfling?” the man who held Frodo said, wrenching his arms roughly upward. Frodo wanted to cry out, but he would not let Ellohir see him in pain.
“Don’t hurt him!” Ellohir screamed, tears streaming down his face.
“I’ll shut that babe up, but only after I take care of this one!” the hurt Man said in a fury, whirling toward Frodo.
“Not in front of him,” Frodo pleaded, nudging his head in Ellohir’s direction. He was going to faint if he did not get in enough air soon. “If you’re going to hurt me, not in front of him.”
A third voice, stronger, broke into the commotion, and Frodo was suddenly released. “What do you fellows think you’re doing? You leave them alone at once!” The Man jabbed his finger up the street in the direction of two guards dressed in black and silver. Frodo ran to Ellohir and collapsed beside him, holding the quivering boy in his arms, kissing him again and again while the Man who had rescued them continued. “Unless you want to be speared by them! Do you know who you’re bullying this time? That little boy is the king’s heir, and I wouldn’t be in your shoes for anything right now.”
Ellohir was trying so hard to stop his tears. The men who had harassed them fled down the street, disappearing into an alley. The Man who had rescued them knelt beside Frodo placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Are you hurt?”
“No,” Frodo said, and smiled, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “Thanks to you, no.” He was ashamed that he could not stop trembling. His arms felt somewhat sore from being wrenched behind him with such force, but he was filled with such relief that it did not matter.
“What are you doing in this part of the city with no armed guards? Well, it’s none of my business.” He patted Frodo’s shoulder. “Shall I call the guards down?”
“Oh, no.” Frodo flushed furiously. “No thank you. We are almost where we need to be. Thank you so kindly for your help. What is your name, good sir?”
The man looked bashful. “Art, Master Halfling. Name’s Art. I own that cloak shop just right there.” He pointed to a shop before his face fell. “Well, I will own it for a short while longer, at least. I cannot afford to keep it no longer.”
“I don’t think you’ll need worry about that any longer,” Frodo said. “The king will reward you generously for stepping in like you did.” He shuddered. “I’ve never had Ellohir ripped from me like that. I hope never to face that again.”
“I want to go home,” Ellohir said, clutching Frodo. “Those men were bad.”
“We’re going to go see Aragorn, remember? Now say good day to the nice Man who helped us.”
“Morning!” Ellohir said, his eyes looking slightly brighter than before. Frodo was relieved. Ellohir would probably recover quite fast from the incident.
***
Aragorn guided his horse through the gate, surrounded by his Men, but he visibly startled when he saw Frodo and Ellohir standing beside Samwise the pony.
“What-?“ He stopped in shock before a grin brightened his face. “Frodo…Ellohir. What a surprise!”
“Aragorn!” Ellohir cried in joy.
Aragorn indicated for his guards to continue without him, and he slid off his horse. Frodo still felt shaken from the incident in the lower levels of the city, and he hoped it didn’t show in his eyes.
Aragorn dropped to one knee in front of them and gathered them both in his arms, dropping a kiss on the top of Ellohir’s head before kissing Frodo in earnest. “So long…been so long.”
“Too long,” Frodo said. “Don’t ever go away for that long again.”
“Stop, stop!” Ellohir cried in exasperation, pushing Aragorn’s face away from Frodo’s. Aragorn laughed and tucked his finger under Ellohir’s chin.
“Ellohir, have you been good while I’ve been gone?”
“Yes,” Ellohir said gravely. “Alia said I’m the best boy ever.”
“I’m glad to hear that. And you came all the way here to meet me?”
“Yes,” Ellohir said, kissing Aragorn’s cheek. “The bad men tried to hurt us, but a nice man helped us.”
Frodo’s cheeks flamed. He had hoped to wait until later to tell Aragorn.
Aragorn turned to Frodo, his expression suddenly grim. “What happened?”
Frodo told him what happened, and as he got to the part about the man yanking Ellohir away from him, his eyes filled with tears again. “Ellohir was so brave. He kicked at that Man and yelled at him.”
Aragorn closed his eyes, breathing deeply. “By the Valar, Frodo.”
“But it ended well and we are here.” Frodo said, running his hand over Aragorn’s face. “And in one piece, thanks to a Man by the name of Art who owns a cloak shop. I think, well…” Frodo nuzzled against Aragorn’s neck. “I think he is owed some thanks.”
“You should not have gone alone with Ellohir,” Aragorn said, shaking his head. “Do you think I could bear it-if anything happened to either of you?”
“I would not repeat this mistake, Aragorn.” Frodo said, shivering. “You cannot imagine how it felt to have him pulled right out of my arms.”
Ellohir’s eyes looked sleepy, and he yawned, now unconcerned by the conversation.
“I know, love,” Aragorn said, and his gray eyes gleamed dangerously as he climbed to his feet. “Come, let us go home. I will send out a force to find those men, and they will answer to me personally. It infuriates me to think that you and Ellohir cannot go about unhassled in my very city.”
“Well, one of them should have a scar on his brow,” Frodo said with a slight smile.
Aragorn helped Frodo on the pony and set Ellohir in front of him. “I must say, I feel badly for anyone who would dare mistake you for defenseless, Frodo. I know I would shudder to be on the receiving end of a hobbit with a stone.”
Frodo smiled fondly. “I’m glad you’re home.” Aragorn answered him with a brief kiss before breaking away to mount his horse. As Frodo guided Samwise after Aragorn’s horse, Frodo heard contented sighs from in front of him, and he was pleased and not at all surprised to see that Ellohir had fallen into a quick sleep.
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