Letters to Del, by Meli, Singe, and Molly




Dear Del,

Hope assures me she has a way to get this to you, which is good because it saves me the trouble of hunting you down to scold you. I'll be generous and assume the fact we haven't got any letters yet is because you've been too busy, not because you've decided to snub us or something. I won't be so nice forever. Write to us, Buzzard!

Molly, Pippin and I have a little boy now. His name is Eomer, and he looks to be turning as blond as Uncle Merry's stories say the Horse-king is. He's still very small, but he's walking already, and I think he means to become a great warrior like his namesake. Molly and I have told him many stories of our adventures, most of them featuring Aunt Buzzard. You have to come and see him someday, or I will find you and thrash you for breaking my boy's heart.

Molly's about ready to pop, too, and we hope to have a girl. There's an argument, of course, over naming her Eowyn. You've never seen anyone as proud as Pippin. Somedays I think his chest will swell so much he'll blow away! None of his hats fit anymore, either.

You really must write to us, Del. The letters you send to Hope aren't enough, and we do miss you so. I must go help my Lark in the kitchen now, but I'll write again. Take care of yourself, Buzzard. Our door is always open to you.

Much love,
Sparrow


Dear Meli:

I may push you off the top of Black Cow Hill and giggle while you roll all the way to the muddy bottom but I would never snub you nor any other of my friends. I admit I was more than a little hurt not to hear from YOU. But the bottleneck has been found. A thieving, or just a lazy, dwarf in one of the waystations along the Road has recently been discovered hoarding mail and I was immensely surprised and overjoyed to receive an enormous bag of boxes and letters from the Shire just now. I am assured that a similar bag of presents and letters from me is on its way, FINALLY, to you.

There is so much to tell but not now. My head is swimming. (Remember the Mayor's old joke 'How do you eat an Oliphaunt? One bite at a time.')

I can't believe the three of you are keeping house already and none of you are out of your tweens! I can hear the dismayed gammers from here! Tell Eomer that I will surely come see him as long as a troll doesn't get me. (Returned King or no, there are still trolls and they still have to eat!)Tell him the King Eomer is a mighty, golden and handsome man and I would lie down in the road and let his horse walk on me to prove my regard for him. Tell him the Lonely Mountain is clean and sparkles with jewels but there are deep caverns and tunnels that still reek of the Dragon of Erebor. Tell him not to pick on his sister. Especially tell him that I learned of his existance just an hour ago but I already love and adore him dearly and whoever hurts him will have the Buzzard to answer to.

As for me, I am in Gondor for the winter, living in a fine and comfortable inn. It's a busy, huge place and no one takes the time to worry much about an orphan 'boy' making his way in the world alone but the old ladies WILL click their tongues and pinch my cheek at the tragedy of it all until I want to scream. But I much prefer that to being treated like a marvelous and lovely doll to be dressed and redressed in fine satins and silks which is what happened to me when my secret was discovered in Dale. (That adventure is included in my afore-mentioned Bag 'O Letters.)

Gondor is beautiful and I'm having a lovely time teasing the Lord Faramir who is visiting from Ithilien. He is the only one that knows there's a Hobbit loose in the White City for he recognized my voice among the cheering crowd that gathered at the gate to welcome him and his entourage. He stopped his horse and stared at me. "Whence come you?!" he asked and I nearly fell over laughing. Then I ran away. I make it a point to stay hidden and whistle or call to him whenever our paths cross and I fear I'm driving him crazy. (Please don't tell your father or he'll pull my ears off when next we meet!)

Yours was the first letter I tore open and read from the pile in front of me. I am sending this letter, my expanation for my silence, immediately. I will arrange the others by date and read and answer them, as well. I have a long night of crying ahead of me and I've already started. (Don't tell Eomer THAT, though!)

Love to you and Molly and Pippin and Eomer and the Great Unknown that Molly is carrying. Love to everyone else you can lay your hands on, especially anyone under, on or around Bag End and Brandy Hall. More letters will rapidly follow this one, I promise.

Nemarie

Delphinium



Dear Del,

If you push Meli off of Black Cow Hill be sure that I’ll be there to push you right after her. Although, knowing you, you’d probably enjoy that, so I’m not sure it would be too much of a punishment. We were all worried when we didn’t hear from you, but so glad it’s been sorted out. You can be sure that we’d never not keep in touch, even when my belly’s so big now that I can hardly see over it to write this letter. I told Sparrow that she’s more than welcome to have the next baby, should we have one. My back aches something fierce with holding this one inside me and I’ll be relieved when she comes out. Rosie-mum says it should be any day now, and if anyone would know it’d be her.

And I did say she because I’m know she’s a girl. I’ve already seen her in my dreams. Meli believes me, but Pippin won’t hear it. He wants another boy, and I think he’s convinced himself with wanting. But I know boy or girl; he’ll be just as good a dad as his dad is. He’s already wonderful with Eomer, and loves him like nothing else. And Eomer toddles after him like a little toe-headed shadow. It’s sweet to watch. Of course the two of them never stay clean, but at least Pippin and he can share a bath together at the end of the night.

I’m surprised that you’re surprised over our keeping house. It’s not like we three weren’t already attached at the hip. My mum and da and Uncle Pippin and Auntie Di and Sam-dad and Rosie-mum and Frodo all saw no reason in keeping us in separate houses, so here we are. And although Eomer was a bit of a surprise, he certainly wasn’t unwelcomed. You’ve never seen prouder grandparents. This boy has three sets and each are set on outdoing the others. You think they’d be tired of babies with how many they’ve have between them.

We’re all happy to know you’re having a grand adventure among those Big Folk and that you’re keeping Lord Faramir on his toes. Be sure to stay out of trouble and warm and well-fed and we hope to see you after the winter if you can come this way for a visit. This one here in my belly will still be at the breast by then, so we’ll definitely be here.

Pippin and Sparrow and myself all send our love. And little Eomer too, even though he’s too young still to know what that means. Take good care of yourself, Buzzard.

Molly



Delphinium read Molly’s letter through and through again. She brought it to her face and breathed in the gentle perfume of Peony Baker’s finest stationary. A wave of homesickness compelled her to whack the paper against her forehead as she sat down at the small desk in her room to write a reply.

Dearest Molly!

As large as you claim to be I’m sure you’d make better speed going down said Hill than Meli or myself. I can just see you rolling along, flattening all in your path...

Truthfully, I want to throw my arms around you to see if my hands can touch and to feel the baby kick. There are Haradrim in the city and their apothecary skills outstrips the best that Minas Tirith has to offer (much to the chagrin of the King, it’s rumored) and I will send along their best recipes and remedies for childbirth and back pain. Too late to do you any good, obviously, but they’ll be handy for future aches. I want to see the house the three of you have set up. I want to see Eomer and baby Eowyn and spoil them beyond redemption! But I will be unable to visit after the winter. When Spring arrives I will be traveling even further South into Ithilien and possibly on to Harad. It may well be several years before I return if I am fortunate enough to do so. I could get stuck between an Oliphaunt’s toenails, you see.

This will make forwarding my mail difficult, to put it mildly, and losing contact with you all again pains me. But I must go on for you are not the only one who dreams. With every step I take I become more and more confident that I have a Purpose. There is Something I Must Do and my dreams are haunted by shadows and great wasted plains of...

 Del grimaced and rubbed out those last few lines with a soft piece of tree gum. Her friend would have a kitty, a great panther of a kitty, if she read that.

...losing contact with you all again pains me. But I am having a wonderful adventure as you can see from the sketches and the bizarre knick-knacks I’ve been sending you. That reminds me, please thank Meli for the stocking caps she knitted for me. They hide my ears perfectly and the bright colors frighten the Lord Faramir’s horse. Yes, he found me. Of course he did, he is a great tracker after all, but he is amused enough to keep me secret as he would wish the silken trappings of court on no one. (One suspects the influence of his ‘wild northern’ wife in that. Speaking of the Lady of the Shield Arm, if I ever meet her I will surely strangle her for the Lord Faramir is so very, very, very handsome and learned and personable and wonderful etc...etc...bliss, my darling...etc.) I share my letters with him and he loves them. He confides to me that the Lady Eowyn, like you, is also round as a beer barrel which is why she could not accompany him to Minas Tirith. This new prince, Lord Faramir has preminisced it to be a boy, will be named Meriadoc and will make his appearance in three months time.

That should please your father but don’t tell him. Lord Faramir wishes to make a grand production of the announcement complete with gifts for the Master of Buckland. I asked him to settle the argument between you and Pip and tell me what you shall bear. He twisted his face up towards the heavens and thought about it. Then he said it shall be a girl but her hair will be dark, not golden like Eomer’s. She will be able to dance as gracefully as a wood sprite but she will not be able to sing and everyone will call her Winnie. Then he burst out laughing so you might want to take his prediction with a grain of salt. But he is a Man of great Foresight so ... give my love to Winnie when she arrives!

Also give my love to Meli, Pip and Eomer and all three sets of grandparents. (What riches!) Love to you!

Delphinium Del carefully folded and sealed the letter in strong wax paper to keep the wet out. She slipped on a bright green and red stocking cap, her jacket and her shoes (making a face at those.) Her attention was drawn to the window. The sun was setting in the West and its last scarlet rays touched on the Ephel Duath, the Mountains of Shadow, to the East of Minas Tirith. Like great spear points dripping with blood they seemed. Del gazed upon them for a long time. Then she went out to mail her letter.

~

Pretty Good Year