{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1","title":"Lindelea","subtitle":"Lindelea","author":{"name":"Lindelea"},"link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"service.feed","type":"application\/x.atom+xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom","title":"Lindelea"}}],"updated":"2026-03-24T22:23:49Z","entry":[{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:107952","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/107952.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=107952"}}],"title":"Thank you, Dreamflower, for everything","published":"2026-03-24T22:20:18Z","updated":"2026-03-24T22:23:49Z","content":"

I posted the following announcement at Stories of Arda, and I'm copying it here for those who might not read there these days:<\/em><\/p>\n

Word came just this morning that Dreamflower (Barbara) passed from this world on the 15th of March.<\/p>\n

Recently, a reader emailed me about finding Dreamflower among my \"author favorites page\" recommendations, and really enjoying her stories, \"especially her tale about 'Trotter', Bilbo's Uncle Hildifons.\"<\/p>\n

I cut-and-pasted that paragraph out of that email into an email to Barbara. Not long after, she replied. She noted that she'd been having some health problems that had prevented her from writing. She also said, \"But this has raised my spirits, to know my stories are still being read and appreciated is a real boost.\" She greatly appreciated every review that her readers left on her stories, and from the tone of her email, she was hoping to write more.<\/p>\n

She wrote reams of fanfiction, much of it posted here<\/a> at Stories of Arda, including many stories set in her own Eucatastrophe, a term Tolkien defined as \"the true form of the fairy-tale, and its highest function\" as part of his assertion that \"all complete fairy-stories must have [a Happy Ending]\". (See Tolkien Gateway's article<\/a> for more.) Her vision of Middle-earth was ultimately hopeful.<\/p>\n\n

She also wrote thoughtful essays that examined, explained, and built upon Tolkien's world-building, including such practical considerations as calendars and naming conventions. Many of her explorations proved quite helpful to other fanfic authors over the years. In addition to posting stories at various fanfic archives, she was active in a number of online fanfic communities. In addition, she helped create another Tolkien archive that, sadly, is no longer in existence.<\/p>\n

Dreamflower was warm and generous with her time and ideas, in real life as well as in the realm of fanfic. Our \"wee hobbits\" are all grown up now, but when they were young, and she found out we were studying the Middle Ages together, she sent us a resource box packed full of information and ideas. Though I thanked her at the time, I wish I'd had the chance to tell her that she helped inspire their ongoing fascination with history: some are now working at Renaissance Faires for the sheer joy of it, and all are learning (and applying) handicrafts and crafting techniques from earlier times. They have also become tellers of stories in their own right.<\/p>\n

Though we never met in person, we will all miss her greatly.<\/p>\n

In closing, if you would, please pray for those she loved, and for all who loved her.<\/p>\n

Barbara concluded all her emails to me as follows. I include her choice of words as a fitting remembrance of the Dreamflower I knew and loved.<\/p>\n

Some people call it fanfiction. I call it story-internal literary criticism.<\/em><\/blockquote>\n
\u201cThe world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair,
and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.\u201d<\/em>
(J.R.R. Tolkien)<\/em><\/blockquote>\n<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:107750","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/107750.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=107750"}}],"title":"Comfort reading","published":"2025-06-24T17:49:31Z","updated":"2025-06-24T17:51:06Z","content":"

As the (title? subject line?) says, I'm comfort-reading fanfic today. I started with Shirebound's wonderful Cormallen story, Shelter. <\/em>(Does LJ allow ff-net or SoA links to be included in posts? I don't know. But the story came up in a web search just now, so you can find it that way.) The story is so full of love and affection and comfort and insightful character interactions, I am enjoying it immensely.<\/p>\n


<\/p>\n

(edited because I left off a \"close parenthesis\" as I so often do)<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:107413","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/107413.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=107413"}}],"title":"Just saying hi","published":"2025-06-12T02:55:33Z","updated":"2025-06-12T02:55:33Z","content":"

I don't come to LJ very often; I've just come through a period when eyestrain has hit hard and rather quickly when reading online. LJ is one of the worst offenders, and I'm not sure if there's a way to adjust the settings to make it friendlier on these rather inconvenient eyes of mine. (Shades of Monty Python and the Holy Grail: I hear an echo of \"I'm not dead yet! I'm getting better...\")<\/p>\n

But hello and hugs to you who read this.<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:107100","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/107100.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=107100"}}],"title":"Goodnight, sweet prince","published":"2025-02-05T01:47:06Z","updated":"2025-02-05T01:47:06Z","content":"

Sweet Ollie died just after 5 a.m. this morning. I never got the chance to book a vet appointment, since I had my alarm set for 7 a.m. to do my best to grab one of a limited number of urgent-care appointments.<\/p>\n

It's just as well, seeing how ill he was. He died quietly at home. (Well, he woke me up by mewing, six rapid, high-pitched meows, the same way he'd call for help when lost or afraid. By the time I'd jumped out of bed and hurried to him, he was already gone.)<\/p>\n

If we'd taken him to the vet, he might have died of the stress of being transported in a cat carrier, poor little fellow. Somehow, that sounds much worse to me. He was a friendly feral kitten who forgave us for trapping, neutering, and releasing him last March. He was so friendly, sometimes he'd wait on the front porch even when the bowls of cat food were full, just for someone to come out and pet him. He had long, silky black hair, jade-green eyes and a ready purr.<\/p>\n

When October came, the not-so-wee hobbits persuaded us that we must take him in. He was already in the habit of strolling in through the front door when it opened (though he'd turn around pretty quickly and stroll out again). They cited stories of people (like foolish teens looking for excitement) abusing black cats around Halloween time. And so we cat-napped him off our front stoop. <\/p>\n\n

We kept him in the bathroom for a week. It didn't take that long to socialize him, but we had three other cats in the household, and we wanted to make sure he wasn't carrying fleas or disease (though he'd been vaccinated when he was neutered in March). So once he was more comfortable with human handling, we took him to the vet for a check-up and blood tests. He was terrified.<\/p>\n

The vet detected a heart murmur and suggested some tests, but we didn't want to traumatize him further, and the vet agreed, saying that some cats display a heart murmur under extreme stress, and it might be just that. She'd check again when we brought him back next October for his annual check and vaccinations.<\/p>\n

But apparently it wasn't just stress. From his symptoms, we think he either had a heart attack the night before last, and then a fatal infarction this morning, or he deteriorated slowly from congestive heart failure over the past few months, with it hitting hard the last few days, until this morning, when his heart could no longer sustain him. <\/p>\n

He would have turned three this spring. We first saw him as a young kitten, perhaps six weeks old, following one of the adult feral cats we watch over onto the porch from under the screening bushes that provide shade and shelter and a place to hide for shy cats. To be truthful, I really wanted to adopt his sibling, an incredibly gorgeous long-haired grey (silver? chinchilla?) tabby that we named \"Gracie\". However, Gracie is truly feral and avoids human touch, even after almost three years of acquaintance. In contrast, even as a kitten, Ollie would come up to us and ask to be petted. He loved human attention. He got his name from Oliver Twist and the musical \"Oliver!\" because he was always coming to the door: \"Please sir? May I have some more?\"<\/p>\n

I'm so sorry, Ollie-love. I don't know if the vet might have done something to give you a longer life and gentler ending, but we loved you the best we could with what we knew at the time, and you brought us so much joy. Rest well, sweet laddie.<\/p>\n<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:106804","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/106804.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=106804"}}],"title":"Goodness gracious","published":"2025-02-04T02:01:29Z","updated":"2025-02-04T02:01:29Z","content":"

That seems deceptive. I mean, in my notifications, I see a bunch of familiar names have popped up with awards attached (\"blog anniversary\", for example). So I started visiting and dropping comments... but then I noticed the dates of the latest posts, and most of them appear to be abandoned or inactive.<\/p>\n

Sigh. What gives, Platform? (I will refrain from naming the platform, but I'm sure you know what I mean.)<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:106521","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/106521.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=106521"}}],"title":"Okay...","published":"2025-02-04T01:52:15Z","updated":"2025-02-04T01:52:15Z","content":"

I always seem to come back here when I'm anxious or worried. I need to form a better habit of coming back here when I'm happy and\/or have good news.<\/p>\n

Youngest Cat, whom we first got to know as a feral kitten, has suddenly fallen ill. I really hope we can get an urgent care appointment for him with the vet. (It's like deja vu all over again. The deal is, you start calling when the switchboard opens at 7 a.m., hoping all the slots--which are for the following day--won't fill up before you get one.)<\/p>\n

Think good thoughts? He's such a sweetie.<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:106396","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/106396.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=106396"}}],"title":"Energy","published":"2024-06-15T22:16:18Z","updated":"2024-06-15T22:16:18Z","content":"

I've been so tired lately, I haven't had much energy to do much beyond seeing to basic needs (i.e. food, laundry, and that's pretty much it). I'm not sure why. Trouble-shooting in itself takes energy. Anyhow, here's a hello-and-how-are-you-doing-these-days?<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:106145","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/106145.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=106145"}}],"title":"Working late tonight...","published":"2024-05-28T05:50:20Z","updated":"2024-05-28T05:50:20Z","content":"

...with the old (BBC?) version of All Creatures Great and Small <\/em>playing in the background. Yes, I'm officially retired. But again yes, I sometimes do a favour here or there. I must admit, the pocket money is a bonus temptation, even though it's small these days. (Still, I would hardly expect to see as much pocket money from editing an hour or two a day as I used to when I was working six to twelve hours a day, depending on the scope of the project and the deadline. I only accept small projects and long deadlines these days...) <\/p>\n

The project I just completed will pay a vet bill, ironically enough.<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:105858","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/105858.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=105858"}}],"title":"Midnight...","published":"2024-05-27T07:07:02Z","updated":"2024-05-27T07:07:02Z","content":"

...and the puppies are sleeping. I should be sleeping too. (And will be, quite soon.)<\/p>\n

Did I mention we are dog-sitting for a relative who is away this summer due to work demands? It fills a gap; puppies are delightful, even if they're not my<\/em> puppy.<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:105630","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/105630.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=105630"}}],"title":"Anniversary Presents","published":"2024-05-13T20:36:45Z","updated":"2024-05-13T20:40:13Z","content":"

(for <\/a>shirebound<\/b><\/a>

<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:105239","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/105239.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=105239"}}],"title":"Being","published":"2024-05-13T19:38:33Z","updated":"2024-05-13T19:38:33Z","content":"

We have temporarily filled the dog-sized void in our household by puppy-sitting a relative's dogs whilst the relative is away for work-related reasons through the summer and fall. Perhaps I should say \"puppy\" because one of the two young dogs is roughly 100 lbs (an Irish wolfhound). His \"sister\", a spaniel, is about the same age but half his size \u2014 she can walk under his stomach without crouching.<\/p>\n

Life is lively around here again and distracts us from the ache of losing Panda.<\/p>\n

The cats, however, are not best pleased.<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:105083","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/105083.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=105083"}}],"title":"Been away","published":"2024-05-11T03:33:13Z","updated":"2024-05-11T03:33:13Z","content":"

Hello again. I should be in bed; I'm exhausted. It's been a long day. I didn't want you to think I was taking another decade-long break.<\/p>\n

I'll try to be back as soon as I have a fresh brain.<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:104957","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/104957.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=104957"}}],"title":"Arriving at the Feast","published":"2024-04-13T19:18:00Z","updated":"2024-04-15T07:07:16Z","content":"

For Larner on her birthday.<\/em><\/p>\n

Content caution: Character death \u2013 and what comes after
Note: The characters are not my own but are only borrowed, and I receive no compensation for fanfic writing. (If I did, I might have retired much sooner, LOL)<\/p>\n

Arriving at the Feast<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dedicated to Panda Mae [Pandemonium \u2018Mayhem\u2019] and Zoe and Jiffy [\u2018Miss Jiff\u2019] and Mwg,
(not to mention Charles the Dickens, who used to love to plink away on the keyboard and leave cryptic messages)
and Panda [Larner\u2019s Pandora\u2019s Hope] and Brendi [Larner's Brandybuck Lawyer],
and all the rest who are waiting at the other end of the Rainbow Bridge<\/em><\/p>\n

Two figures amble hand-in-hand under the smiling Sun, their toes enjoying the feeling of warm sand that gives way to cool, dewy grass as they travel onward, towards the sounds of song and laughter, heralding a grand celebration just over the hill. As they crest the rise, many voices hail them, some standing out from amidst the general joyous tumult.<\/p>\n

\u2018Frodo! Took you long enough, old fellow!\u2019 Merry shouts, waving, Pippin at his side \u2013 and yet, somehow, both of them are at the same time encircled by those of their families who have also already found their way to the Feast. \u2018You don\u2019t know what a difficult time I\u2019ve had, restraining Pippin from eating all the best bits and drinking all the beer and saving none for you!\u2019<\/p>\n

He grins at Frodo, ignoring Pippin's yelp of protest, Hoi!<\/em> \u2013 which Diamond neatly interrupts in any event by directing a sausage roll at her beloved\u2019s open mouth. Hobbits have excellent aim, as everyone knows.<\/p>\n\n

Estella Brandybuck unsuccessfully suppresses a wide grin at her husband\u2019s joy, not to mention the antics of (former) Thain and Mistress, who have begun flinging food at each other with delightful accuracy. Drawing herself up to her full height (thus standing almost<\/em> as high as her illustrious husband\u2019s shoulder, perhaps only a handspan or two lower), the former Mistress of Buckland puts her hands on her hips and looks Frodo up and down. Finishing her scrutiny, she tilts her head to one side and teases, \u2018Well, O dearest ancient and most venerable Donkey, I\u2019m glad you finally<\/em> deigned to stir your creaking bones and join us! Between the heroic efforts of myself and my Magnificent beloved \u2013 I don\u2019t know quite how<\/em> we managed, but \u2013 we have<\/em> somehow been able, through tireless effort and by the sweat of our brows,\u2019 (dramatically wiping her forehead, but then her own brow wrinkles as she lifts her head, narrows her eyes and adds under her breath, if one <\/em>could<\/strong><\/em> sweat here, that is<\/em>), and then she giggles and concludes her point, \u2018to save a few scraps, er, choice tidbits for you and our stouthearted Mayor.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Midge!\u2019 Frodo returns in his creakiest Gaffer\u2019s voice, sketching a bow, and then adds in his normal tones, \u2018You\u2019re looking well!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Of course,\u2019 Estella preens. \u2018\u2019As I\u2019m sure everyone<\/em> who knows anything<\/em> should know, \u2018twould be difficult not<\/em> to look well here... It is<\/em> the Feast, after all!\u2019<\/p>\n

Then another voice breaks into the conversation. \u2018Hullo Sam! You haven\u2019t hurried, have you?\u2019<\/p>\n

Frodo pushes Sam towards Rose, and Sam\u2019s face breaks out in a beaming expression of delight that matches hers perfectly. Unlike a previous time, Samwise the stouthearted is not at all abashed at her welcome, as he answers, \u2018Perhaps not... someone or other once told me there\u2019s no time here, and so you won\u2019t have missed me at all!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Well,\u2019 Rose pretends to pout, \u2018I might have missed you just a little...\u2019 But then the pout dissolves into laughter, and then Sam pulls her in for a long, lingering kiss that stretches on as he savours the taste of her mirth. He breaks free at last with a wink and a grin and a hug for his old gaffer, who\u2019s looking quite a bit more youthful and dapper than Samwise remembers him. After a heartfelt embrace, Hamfast passes their son along to Bell Gamgee for a hug of her own, and behind her, Uncle Andy Roper says, \u2018I\u2019ll take one of those if I may!\u2019 A cheer arises from the hobbits crowding behind him.<\/p>\n

\u2018If you may!\u2019 Sam laughs, throwing his arms wide to welcome the oncoming onslaught of Gamgees and Ropers and Cottons and...<\/p>\n

Frodo is distracted from gladly watching his faithful companion\u2019s welcome and reunion by a tap on his shoulder, coming just before he is suddenly pulled into a hearty embrace, which he returns with equal enthusiasm, revelling in the sensation of hugging his father once more. It has been so long...!<\/p>\n

\u2018Welcome,\u2019 Drogo Baggins says, his voice muffled in Frodo\u2019s collar as his arms tighten around his cherished son, \u2018welcome Home, my boy.\u2019 And then he breaks free from the hug, but catches Frodo\u2019s hands in his and holds them tightly as he looks intently into Frodo\u2019s face and says, quite earnestly for someone whose face is shining with joy, \u2018Bilbo\u2019s been telling me such<\/em> astonishing tales, and so has old Gandalf, I can tell you!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Gandalf?\u2019 Frodo says in wonder, only to be interrupted by his mother\u2019s sweet voice at his elbow. He spins around and catches her up in a glad hug while taking care not to upset the plate she\u2019s holding. How he has missed her!<\/p>\n

\u2018They\u2019re your favourites,\u2019 Primula says, extending the plate to him after the hug ends, one that Frodo remembers as having pride of place every high day on the gleaming table in their parlour, whether the little Baggins family were in their own comfortable smial or visiting Brandy Hall, but no matter where they took tea, that plate was always filled with delicious treats. True to form, it is now piled high with biscuits, still warm and smelling fresh from the oven.<\/p>\n

\u2018My blessed boy!\u2019 Bilbo cries from behind her in his own joyous welcome. \u2018Your mum\u2019s biscuits have almost bewitched me away from my own favourite seedcake! Luckily, one can stuff oneself to the gills here and yet always seem to have room for more!\u2019 As if in confirmation, Esmeralda Brandybuck nudges Saradoc, who passes a plateful of seedcake to Bilbo as they stand nearby, waiting to greet Frodo themselves when the time is right. All in good time. There is no need to rush, and all the time in the world, in this timeless place.<\/p>\n

Of course Frodo takes a generous handful of biscuits and pops them into his mouth all at once, yet there is no need for Primula to caution him, One at a time!<\/em> (laughing, of course), for no one can choke on any of the food one enjoys at the Feast, except perhaps in jest, and the food is more than plentiful, and everyone eats and drinks both what and when they wish without suffering hunger or thirst or, alternatively, the uncomfortable feeling of having overindulged, for discomfort has no place at the Feast, nor does any other form of distress.<\/p>\n

At a cold, wet touch on his hand, Frodo looks down to meet bright eyes, high-perked ears (one of them charmingly crooked) and a wagging tail. \u2018Why, hullo, little fellow!\u2019 he says. \u2018So nice to see you again! I didn\u2019t know...\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018O\u2019 course \u2018twouldn\u2019t be a Feast without all<\/em> of the family,\u2019 Rosie says cheerily from Sam\u2019s side, the two of them twining their arms around each other\u2019s waists like young \u2013 or long-time \u2013 lovers. \u2018Little Faithful is here, just as he always would come to the garden when ever I\u2019d bring you a tray...\u2019<\/p>\n

As he is looking down at the little dog, Frodo notices movement nearby and, for the first time since arriving, sees a graceful calico form, up until this moment only a dim memory from his faunthood but now, suddenly, familiar and clearly remembered as if it were only yesterday his mother gently guided his tiny hand to help him feel and stroke the softness of a cat\u2019s fur \u2013 this cat, who is now twining around his mother\u2019s ankles. He shakes himself free of his reverie just in time to take the plate Primula thrusts into his hands, to hold it for her whilst she reaches down and scoops up the purring feline. Once the cat is secure in her arms, she reclaims the plate from Frodo, but then, with a lightning change of mind, in almost the same motion, she immediately hands the biscuits to Drogo to hold so that she can better cuddle the furry cat under her chin.<\/p>\n

\u2018O\u2019 course,\u2019 Frodo echoes, bemused, but at feeling the touch of a pleading paw, lifted to rest on his knee, he is recalled to the business at hand and bends down to rub the little dog\u2019s velvety ears, one and then the other, and then both at once, wringing a pleasurable moan from the small creature as his eyes half-close in bliss at the caresses.<\/p>\n

Then, straightening and locking his gaze with Little Faithful\u2019s eager eyes, Frodo reaches for another biscuit from the plate in Drogo\u2019s hand and says, smiling at seeing the tail wag ever more wildly in happy anticipation, \u2018Here you are, my fine fellow!\u2019<\/p>\n

He holds out the treat to his small friend, who snaps up the treat and swallows without even chewing. As part of their accustomed game, he makes a show of pulling his hand back quickly, laughing \u2018Did you even taste it?\u2019 and then lifting his hand to his face to examine his fingers as if he expects one to be missing \u2013 and they are all there! He laughs again in wonder, and his cousins raise a cheer around him.<\/p>\n

He grins and bows in response. \u2018O\u2019 course!\u2019 he repeats, holding up his restored hand for all to see.<\/p>\n

\u2018O\u2019 course!\u2019 all and sundry shout in their glee.<\/p>\n

\u2018Welcome, my young friend. Well come indeed!\u2019 And Frodo turns at the sound of deep tones spoken warmly, and he is smiling even more widely at hearing the well-loved voice, infused with laughter, as has characterised this particular speaker since the the days following the Shadow\u2019s banishment and departure, when Gandalf was said to laugh more than he talks<\/em>. \u2018Gandalf!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Have another one \u2013 or three! \u2013 for yourself! Plenty more where that came from!\u2019 Ol\u00f3rin assures with a chuckle, the corners of his eyes crinkling with merriment as Frodo\u2019s eye meets his. \u2018Indeed! Have another gross<\/em> of those wonderful biscuits!\u2019 \u2013 and Frodo\u2019s smile brightens as he hears Bilbo chortling nearby, as if at an old joke \u2013 \u2018Why, you\u2019ve hardly made a dent in the heap!\u2019<\/p>\n

And the old fellow has the right of it, Frodo sees, for Primula\u2019s plate seems to refill as soon as one celebrant or another removes a biscuit \u2013 or a handful of such.<\/p>\n

\u2018Now,\u2019 Gandalf mutters, as if to himself, \u2018I must get back to \u2013 what was I doing?\u2019 \u2013 he pats at his robes in seeming bewilderment; his twinkling eyes, however, betray no hint of confusion before his face clears and seems to glow afresh with delight \u2013 \u2018O yes, of course...\u2019<\/p>\n

In the Here and the Now of the Feast, the Maia is wearing the form of Gandalf the Grey<\/em> as so many of those celebrating at the Feast knew him in life, and a throng of happy dogs surrounds him, jumping and wagging and barking as he pulls out double handfuls of small bone-shaped biscuits, seemingly from thin air, and tosses them in every direction. And it could go without saying \u2013 even though it doesn\u2019t \u2013 but of course Little Faithful, for his part, must dive into the frolicsome fray, jumping high after the treats that fly into the sky and then rain down (though, as things stand, not a single one reaches the ground), catching one after another after another.<\/p>\n

Frodo joins in the general merriment as Gandalf\u2019s familiar laugh sounds above the gay clamour. He is still chuckling as he scoops another handful of the warm, spicy biscuits from the plate his father holds out to him and stuffs the whole handful in his mouth.<\/p>\n

Rather muffled by a mouthful of melting sweetness, his jolly \u2018Plenty more where these came from! Indeed!\u2019 rings out and is echoed with enthusiasm by his merry friends and cousins and other relations as the celebration goes on...<\/p>\n

...and on...<\/p>\n

And on.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Author\u2019s notes:<\/em><\/p>\n

\u2018Little Faithful\u2019 was introduced in <\/em>Secrets<\/strong><\/em>, written for Dana in my first year of exploring the joys of LOTR fanfiction. Frodo's and Estella's pet names for each other come from A <\/em>Small and Passing Thing<\/strong><\/em>. \u2018Samwise the stouthearted\u2019 was spoken by Frodo in \u2018The Stairs of Cirith Ungol\u2019 in <\/em>The Two Towers<\/strong><\/em>, while Rose Gamgee's welcoming words are found in <\/em>\u2018The Scouring of the Shire\u2019, and <\/em>\u2018laugh(s) more than he talks\u2019 reflects Pippin's description of Gandalf in <\/em>\u2018The Field of Cormallen\u2019 in <\/em>The Return of the King<\/strong><\/em> by J.R.R. Tolkien. The Feast is my own invention since the Professor never mentioned what happens to Hobbits after they depart Middle Earth, so far as I know.<\/em><\/p>\n

***<\/em><\/p>\n<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:104687","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/104687.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=104687"}}],"title":"Deep breath","published":"2024-04-04T00:16:28Z","updated":"2024-04-04T00:16:28Z","content":"

Life goes on.<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:104264","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/104264.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=104264"}}],"title":"Sunday","published":"2024-03-22T23:40:59Z","updated":"2024-03-22T23:40:59Z","content":"

...will be the day. <\/p>\n

The time is simultaneously ticking by painfully slowly and galloping by distressingly fast.<\/p>\n

We took Panda on a day trip to visit her beloved ocean and favorite beach last Sunday, and she let us know it's time. As her best-beloved person said, \"I wish we could do it here, now, surrounded by her people, all petting her at the same time, listening to the waves, feeling the caresses of the sea breeze, enjoying the sunshine on the grass...\"<\/p>\n

But the best we can do is to surround her with her people again, in a quiet room, loving on her and all petting her at once until she sleeps at last.<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:104104","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/104104.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=104104"}}],"title":"Saying goodbye","published":"2024-03-12T23:32:05Z","updated":"2024-03-12T23:32:05Z","content":"

Panda has come to appointments with us with a certain provider for the last 3 or 4 years. The provider (she gives her patients a \"good\" piece of chocolate as a reward after each visit, which puts her up there in my book) always gave Panda Cheerios as a treat at the start of the appointment, making this person one of Panda's favorite people to visit. <\/p>\n

Today, she fed Panda half her lunch of pork chops and potatoes instead of Cheerios, and she said a long goodbye at the front door after the appointment as we were leaving. A kind of \"see you at the Feast\" moment, like the scenes I sometimes write in hobbit-centered stories, only this one played out in real life.<\/p>\n

And so our slow-motion disaster continues.<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:103871","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/103871.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=103871"}}],"title":"Puppy love","published":"2024-03-11T16:50:55Z","updated":"2024-03-11T16:50:55Z","content":"

I see that when I was posting here regularly, some time ago, we still had our first Giant Schnauzer, Zoe. Losing her to complications three days after surgery that was meant to give her another year or a few years of life was traumatic. When the new puppy, aptly named Pandemonium (Panda for short), came into our lives (because the kids insisted, not because I wanted another dog; Zoe broke my heart), I resolved that I would be kind to her, but I wouldn't let myself love another dog. I couldn't. I couldn't face another loss like that one.<\/p>\n

But you know what they say about the best intentions...<\/p>\n

So now we are at the end stage of the \"puppy's\" life, after ten all-too-short years of joy and laughter and love. She's so brave. She doesn't understand what is happening to her, and sometimes she comes and leans against my leg as if asking me to make it all better, and I can't, though I desperately wish I had magical healing powers, or something<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Cancer sucks.<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:103573","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/103573.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=103573"}}],"title":"Starting over","published":"2024-03-11T04:42:05Z","updated":"2024-03-11T04:42:05Z","content":"

Or maybe I should just say, \"visiting past haunts, and recovering old memories, and lingering for a bit, trying to catch the hint of an elusive, half-forgotten fragrance...\"<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:103170","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/103170.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=103170"}}],"title":"Temporary glitch or permanent loss?","published":"2023-03-26T19:35:53Z","updated":"2023-03-26T19:35:53Z","content":"

Is Stories of Arda gone? <\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:103077","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/103077.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=103077"}}],"title":"Wow - edited","published":"2011-03-07T19:15:38Z","updated":"2024-03-11T04:48:47Z","content":"Please note that this entry was written when we were deep in a cult. We left it far behind more than a decade ago, and we stopped homeschooling, and I threw myself into working to try to help our teens with college costs since the cult thought it was better for members to tithe their money to the \"church\" than to put it in a college fund.

My apologies to anyone I offended by expressing the narrow views we were programmed to espouse. I have no excuses, or only poor ones, but our grown kids have told me they forgive me and understand how we got pulled in, and they respect the work we've done to repair our relationships and own our sh*t.

*****
I just learned that the creator of a homeschool curriculum we used some years ago has posted an appeal for help. It seems that he ran for office in 2010, and now three of his grown children have been targeted by members of the opposing party for political, educational, and occupational persecution. Incredible.

Read more at this link<\/a>.

If you want specifics you can go to the link. It's sheer thuggery, no matter what party affiliation is involved. (I'm not associated with either of the parties mentioned, just in case you were wondering. I have no dog in the fight except for a belief that this kind of behavior seriously threatens our freedom of choice.)

Whatever happened to academic freedom?

It's not unusual for political candidates to attack each other in personal terms, rather than just on the issues. But I thought families were off limits, more or less?"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:102796","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/102796.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=102796"}}],"title":"Woot!Woot!Woot!","published":"2011-02-28T21:33:46Z","updated":"2011-02-28T21:33:46Z","content":"The Giant Schnoz does *not* have cancer!!! She had a massive infection that looked like cancer, but the biopsy came back negative.

This is an answer to prayer. Thanks for your good thoughts and prayers."},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:102655","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/102655.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=102655"}}],"title":"lindelea1 @ 2011-01-26T23:34:00","published":"2011-01-27T07:35:26Z","updated":"2011-01-27T07:35:26Z","content":"The giant Shnoz has toe cancer. Don't know yet if we can afford to save her."},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:101763","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/101763.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=101763"}}],"title":"Let Sleeping Schnozzes Lie","published":"2010-07-02T19:26:49Z","updated":"2010-07-02T19:26:49Z","content":"\"Photo<\/a>
Dumpr - Photo Fun<\/a>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:101392","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/101392.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=101392"}}],"title":"dumpr.net","published":"2010-07-02T19:24:15Z","updated":"2010-07-02T19:24:15Z","content":"\"Photo<\/a>
Dumpr - Photo Fun<\/a>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:lindelea1:101322","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/101322.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/lindelea1.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=101322"}}],"title":"Birthday mathom, part 1","published":"2010-01-19T19:53:17Z","updated":"2010-01-19T19:55:32Z","content":"Thank you for the birthday greetings! I'm touched... and glad I was able to steal a few moments to duck back into LJ to say hello.

Here is part one of a short story (not many chapters in this one, and not many expected though it's not quite finished yet in draft form), as my present to you.



You Can Lead a Took to Water...<\/strong>

Splash!<\/em>

The boy's head jerked up, and the sheepdog rose swiftly to its feet and whined, nose raised to sample the breeze. It was a large splash for a small stream, after all, and what could<\/em> it portend?

The young hobbit was hardly frightened, here on his father's land, and he wasn't the kind who frightened easily, at any event. As a matter of fact, he was rather more inclined the other way, rather more bold and curious than was good for him. Or so his mother, a solid and steady Banks had been heard to say on more than one occasion.

To which his Tookish father would answer, after a shake of the head, that the lad was<\/em>, after all, a Took, and descended from the Old Took himself, and so a little spirit was only to be expected.

To which the mother would sigh and observe that \u201ca little spirit goes a long way.\u201d

To which the father would heartily agree. It was why, more often than not, when Pip's older sisters or cousins were not keeping watch on him (he was, after all, only eight), Paladin was happy to set the lop-eared sheepdog on the task.

Lop, with his one ear that stood straight up and the other that flopped halfway, loved young Pippin next best to the sheep, and that was saying something. Theirs was a friendship from faunthood, more or less, for Pearl had taken the little lad when he was still tottering about in gowns, to see the new litter of pups, fat little balls of fluff with legs as unsteady as any faunt's. One of them had crawled with determination to the feet of the delighted young hobbits, sprawling at last in exhaustion upon Pippin's feet, enduring the clutching hands and squeals of glee, nay, enjoying<\/em> its predicament, rather, with wags of its little tail and essays of a tiny pink tongue.

The pup grew more rapidly than the faunt, of course, and it was not too many months before he towered over his young lord. He was well brought up, however, and did not take advantage of his size, but obeyed lisping commands with adoration in his dark eyes, and a tail that waved delight.

He took to sheepherding as a duck to water, and his skill with the sheep stood him in good stead when it came to watching over the hobbit lambkin as well. He was a walking wall, keeping himself between Pip and danger (and Pip's mother from a good deal of worry into the bargain).

Pip rose as well, from the hole he'd been digging, here at the far end of the near field, just under the shade of the copse, the smial all the way across the field but still within sight. A little stream ran through the wood, between the near field and the far meadow, and sometimes Pip fished here with his father or uncle or a cousin, but never alone. Indeed, he'd never stood upon its banks without a hobbit companion, for the faithful dog kept him well away when no older hobbits were near.

But now the dog stood undecided, scenting the breeze, eyes intent, and then he stepped forward, further into the wood, and stopped again with another whine and an anxious, curiously eager look.

'What is it, Lop?' the lad said brightly, stroking the soft coat. 'What is it? A big trout?' It had been quite<\/em> a splash, after all, the biggest fish he could imagine, and here he was without fishing gear. He was without an older hobbit, as well, but that didn't bother him. He was sure he could catch a trout, even the biggest trout, without trouble. Hadn't his mum exclaimed over the size<\/em> of the last fish he'd brought home for her to fry?

He'd just go and see what was what. If he could spot the great fish in the stream, why, perhaps he and Lop might catch the creature together, gear or no gear. His Buckland uncle had told him all about how they sometimes tickled the fish out of the streams in Buckland... why couldn't a Took do just as well?

Oddly enough, the dog seemed of the same mind. He didn't try to bar Pip from the stream as he ought, but fell in beside the determined lad. They walked together deeper into the wood, in the direction of the great splash, Pippin's fingers still curled in the dog's fur.

When they came in sight of the stream, the dog sat down in dismay, his jaw dropping that he might pant his distress. The lad, however, broke into a run, tripping over tree roots in his hurry.

There was a Man in the stream!

...and not just in the stream, not wading, O no, but lying with his face in the water, yes, drowning in the shallows that were only knee-deep to a hobbit lad. There was no time!

No time to run back to the farmyard, shouting for help, no indeed, immediate action was needed.

Pip made a splash of his own, jumping from the low bank into the flowing water.

The man's hair waved gently in the current; his clothing was thoroughly wet, though the pack on his back remained dry, perched above the high water mark. (It was a good thing, too, but that comes later.) Pip knew the look of the pack; he gripped familiar shoulders, upon which he'd sat two years earlier, when this Man had found him wandering far from home and brought him to Bilbo's door.

'Robin!' he cried, shaking at the near shoulder, though he might as well have tried to move a mountain. 'Robin! Get up!' With a great effort, he lifted the heavy head out of the water, but he couldn't hold it for long. He gave a cry as his hands slipped, and the Man's face fell back into the stream. Surely the icy water would rouse him from his swoon! Surely Robin would waken! He had<\/em> to!

But the Man did not move, did not lift his head from the water, did not seem to hear the summons nor recognise his peril.

Desperate, the boy turned. 'Lop!' he shouted. 'Come! Come here, sir! I want you!'

The dog leapt into motion, suddenly confident, and galloped into the stream, his splashing entry drenching Pip completely with icy water, though the young hobbit had more on his mind than his own comfort.

'Take hold, Lop! We've got to get him out of the water!' He grabbed at the Man's shoulder once more in illustration, pulling as hard as he could. 'Pull, Lop! Tug!<\/em>'

The dog took hold of one of the shoulder straps on the pack and began a serious game of tug, more serious than any he'd ever played, and he was one who took the game seriously, indeed, in time of peace and pleasure. With the dog pulling in sharp jerks, and the lad pushing and lifting and rolling, somehow they moved the Man just enough to prop his head upon a rock, protruding near the water's edge.

Gasping for breath, the boy steadied the Man with one hand and pulled the lop-leaning ear with the other. 'Go!' he ordered, and pointed in the direction of the farmyard. 'Go home, Lop! Go home!'

The dog panted uneasily. He knew this command. Young Master Frodo would use it, when he was out adventuring with Pippin and a dog was not wanted. It did not seem to fit the situation, however. Young Master Frodo was not here, nor was young Merry, nor any older hobbit, for that matter.

'Go, Lop!' the young hobbit thundered, or at least he tried to thunder, as his father did, to the best of his eight-year-old ability. But the dog sat down in the water, icy as it was, and seemed inclined to stay.

The boy looked down at the Man's precarious position. 'I can't leave him,' he said, in part to himself, but also to the dog.

Lop whined at the entreaty in his tone, and his tail quivered in the water.

'Don't you see, Lop?' the boy said softly, in his most persuasive tone, and yet the dog could hear the sincerity there, and in response laid its great head upon his shoulder. He reached up his free hand to cradle the muzzle, and continued his entreaty. 'Don't you see? I cannot leave him. His face might slip back into the stream, and he'll drown before I can get help. I must hold him here, while you get help. You will, won't you? Go home?'

The dog whined again, softly, throat vibrating through the boy's soaked shirt, and the boy shivered in return. The water was so very cold, but he mustn't leave the Man. He mustn't. 'Go, Lop? Go home? Please, laddy-mine?'

It was as if the dog suddenly made up its mind, or perhaps understanding dawned, for Lop lifted his head from Pippin's shoulder and gave a ringing bark, and then he was gone, streaking away through the trees. He burst from the copse and raced across the field, stretched low to the ground in the way of sheepdogs, running at top speed, silent, intent on his course.

Arriving in the yard he found Pervinca, bearing a basket of eggs. He slid to a stop before her, barking, and she stopped still, clutching the basket, dumbfounded by this uncharacteristic behaviour.

This was not what was wanted. Lop dived at Pervinca, catching at her dress, to try to drag her after him. She screamed, now holding the basket before her as a shield, thrusting it at Lop to drive him away.

A hired hobbit came from the barn, hayfork in hand. 'What, Miss...?' he said, and seeing her apparently under attack, he held the fork low and ran at the dog, shouting.

Lop dodged just before he was spitted, stood to the side, barking wildly, as Eglantine hurried from the kitchen door, a dishcloth in her hand, and Pearl and Pimpernel right behind her.

'What is it, Ned? What's the matter?' she shouted.

'He's gone mad!' the hired hobbit shouted above the barking and Pervinca's screaming.

'Lop!' Pimpernel cried, 'Lop! Down!' but the dog would not heed, simply turned to bark and whine, almost dancing with eagerness.

'Lop!' Pearl added her own shout, but beside her, Eglantine put her hand to her heart in sudden comprehension.

'It's Pip,' she gasped. 'Something's happened to Pip!' And she stretched out her hand to the dog.

At the repetition of the name he loved best, Lop stopped his barking and ran to Eglantine, seizing her hand between his teeth, though so gently as to make no mark, and tried to pull her after him.

'He's mad!' the hired hobbit said again, advancing with the hayfork. 'He's gone mad with the heat!'

'Stay!' Eglantine shouted, and she pulled her hand from the dog's mouth to thrust her palm at Ned in commanding gesture. 'Put that fork down, Ned!'

Such was the force of her personality that Ned dropped the hayfork, and Pervinca stopped screaming and hiccuped, and her sisters fell silent.

Eglantine took the dog's head between her hands. 'Where, Lop? Where is he?'

The dog whined in answer.

Eglantine noticed for the first time the water that plastered Lop's fur to his skin. 'Wet,' she said, her voice shaking, and then, 'Water... the stream!'

She didn't stop to wonder why the dog had not kept her little son from the danger of the stream, but picked up her skirts and began to run toward the distant copse, and in a heartbeat the others were following after. Lop soon caught her and passed her, a white-and-black streak of damp determination, leading the rescue party, and when the hobbits reached the copse they were able to find him quickly by his barking.

He was standing in the stream once more by Pippin when they reached him.

The lad was sitting in the water, his arms about the Man's head to steady him on the savior rock, pale and shivering with cold, his lips purple and teeth chattering.

'Peregrin!' his mother cried, splashing into the water.

'I...' Pippin said, barely able to form the words. 'I... c-c-c-couldn't l-leave h-him...'

'No, of course you couldn't,' his mother said, lifting him from the water and passing him to Pearl's outstretched arms.

'D-d-drowning,' Pippin chattered, while Pearl wrapped her apron around him, and her sisters followed suit.

'Can you help me get him out of the stream?' Eglantine said to Ned, standing on the bank with his hands hanging at his sides.

The hired hobbit jumped into motion. He wasn't one to go into a stream, mind, but that the Mistress was there already, before him, and they very well couldn't leave the stricken Man there, now, could they? 'Aye, Mistress,' he said.

In the end, Pearl had to sit Pippin down on the bank, wrapped in aprons, and she and her sisters had to wade into the water to lend their strength to the effort.

When Pippin saw they were about to roll the Man over, he stood up and shouted, pointing, and somehow made them understand what he wanted.

'Of course, his pack is still dry,' Eglantine said, comprehending, 'and we might as well keep his belongings that way. He'll need dry clothing to change into, and certainly nothing of ours<\/em> will suit!'

Ned managed to wrestle the pack from the Man's back, and carried it up the bank to lay it beside Pippin. 'Now you sit down where your sister laid you, young hobbit,' he said sternly, and Pippin sank down again, taking hold of one of the pack's straps and clinging there as if it might be a lifeline.

'Help him,' he said, still shivering, his eyes very large in his face.

'O' course we're going to help 'im,' Ned said. 'What did you think<\/em> we were going to do?' And he pointed a stern finger. 'Now you stay<\/em> there and don't worry yourself over what we're doing, and just let us do<\/em> it, mind...'

The little lad nodded, swallowing hard, water dripping from his curls down his face, but he was wise enough to say no more.

Ned turned and went back down the bank, and he and Eglantine and the three girls pulled, and pushed, and heaved, and grunted, and somehow they got the Man out of the water and partway up the bank before they had to stop, to pant for air.

Lop helped as well, grabbing at the Man's sleeve and playing his most enthusiastic game of Tug to date.

At last Eglantine had to concede defeat. They could bring him no further, not herself and one hired hobbit and three young daughters, not by themselves. She laid her hand on the Man's neck to feel for the heartbeat. Fast it was, racing, and his skin was warm to the touch despite his soaking. Fever, well, then, that would explain the swoon. They couldn't just leave him here, that was certain. They'd need more hobbits, and better yet, a pony, to bring the Man safely to the smial. She sent Ned off to fetch Paladin and the hobbits who were with him, working in the far fields on the other side of the smial.

As to where she'd put him, well, that was a matter for consideration. Before the kitchen hearth, most likely, largest fireplace as it was in the smial, large enough for a hobbit to stand upright, and broad. They could put blankets down, and pile blankets over the top of the Man as well, though it'd take twice the blankets that a hobbit would need, to cover that length...

She blinked. Here she was, contemplating taking a perfect stranger into her home. But what else could she do?

'He's not a stranger,' Pippin piped at her elbow, and she looked down at him, realising that she must have spoken her thoughts aloud.

'Not a stranger?'

'No, of course not,' Pippin said. 'His name is Robin, and he's a friend of Uncle Bilbo's!'
<\/a>
A friend of old Bilbo's. Well, well. 'And what does a friend of Uncle Bilbo want, in our stream?'

Pippin shrugged. 'I don't know,' he admitted, hugging himself to rub at his arms with his hands. 'Perhaps he wanted to catch a fish. We do have some fair sized fish in our stream.'

Eglantine surprised everyone, herself included, by laughing. 'I'd say we do!' she said, when she could catch her breath. She raised her eyes then, to look through the trees to the field, and saw with relief her husband and half a dozen hired hobbits jogging across the furrows toward them.

'I'd say that we do,' she repeated, and then she hugged her shivering little fisher close and rubbed his back to warm him."}]}