As was usual on the farms of Staddle the afternoon was peaceful and quiet with the hobbit hole farmers resting from their daily tasks. The Great East Road bordered Staddle, so the village roads were only traveled by its inhabitants and the small wild animals. The winter breeze was barely breezy, the sun tempered the temperatures, and the birdsong was only interfered with by the slow trot of a saddle. Mounted on Hawthorn, Kennet was approaching leisurely from Bree. He had just said goodbye to Alice, the woman who had taught him almost everything he knew about history, alchemy and other arts these years ago. But far from being a sad moment, his tutor had taken her departure as a temporary separation, and was also pleased at the opportunity it presented for her ward.
Rider and mount arrived at Ponto's farm, with its wide farm fields that the kindly hobbit shared with anyone who wished to plant on his land. For the farmer to be able to plow, plant, water, tend and harvest the entire plot of land he had inherited from his parents would mean having a crew of at least ten hobbits. And yet Ponto preferred to work the land with patience and pampering accompanied by only two of his neighbors, so he left large areas for others to use and cultivate.
Ponto was stacking some boxes in front of his hobbit hole, and Kennet's arrival was not lost on him. The young man climbed down from his mount and left Hawt grazing at the side of the road, after which he walked along the dirt path that led to where the hobbit was standing. The two greeted each other amicably, because for years Kennet had used the fields of Ponto to grow the pipeweed from which he made his living.
-You are carrying your horse's packs rather bulky... have you found any treasure hidden under a rock? -asked the hobbit, who usually ended his conversations with a question at the end.
-No, Ponto, that's food all Hawthorn carries. I'm going on a long journey tomorrow, and I need rations for the road -said Kennet as he pulled a pipe and pouch out of one of his pockets and drew tobacco from it. Would you like some Old Toby?
-No disrespect to the legacy of the first hobbit who planted pipe-weed in The Shire. What would old Toby say of me if I turned it down? -he wondered, hastily pulling out a small pipe and accepting Kennet's invitation.
In less than a minute they were both lighting their pipes and enjoying the aroma of the weed. Tastes good... did you plant this one too?
-Of course! Everything I smoke is homegrown, so why buy if I'm the one selling it? Besides, I harvested this one right here -Kennet said, pointing to the fields of Ponto with his hand, drawing a silent nod of approval from the hobbit.
Both were comfortable with each other's presence and silences, so they spent a couple of minutes enjoying the peaceful afternoon before Ponto's curiosity prompted him to speak up: And where are you off to tomorrow? If my eye doesn't deceive me, in those bundles there should be provisions to go to Michael Delvings and back at least twice. Am I right?
-Yes, I haven't stinted on the cold meats and bread for the journey -Kennet said. But not to go to The Shire, but eastward to Rivendell.
Ponto raised an eyebrow as he took a puff and asked again: Where is that? It looks farther away than The Forsaken Inn. Is it the big peak that juts out in the east when the sky is clear?
-Even farther than The Forsaken Inn and Weathertop, my friend. My destiny is where great cloudy mountains cut the way from the far north to the far south -he said in an enthusiastic mood. Although he tried to appear calm, the imminence of the journey was reflected in his uneasiness and in his tone of voice.
-Whew... -Ponto snorted when he heard the answer. That's a long way off, Kennet. I have never ventured beyond the Midgewater Marshes, I have no interest in seeing those great mountains. This world is all I need, so I will stay here and guard these lands -he said sincerely. What would be the point of leaving them?
Kennet looked at Ponto for a few seconds before answering, recalling his memories of the little hobbit, almost all of them on this very farm where they were standing. Ponto, the world would not be the same if you were not here tending your lands. Ever since I was a boy I remember you working them with care -he said with affection in his words.
-And I will do so to the end of my days -the hobbit said proudly. And if I marry a good woman and she becomes a good mother, my good sons will take over from me...
-And I hope to see it, my friend -Kennet added with a broad smile.
-Why weren't you going to see it? -asked the hobbit with a frown, looking at the young man.
The question darkened Kennet's face a bit, chilling his mood. For moments a lot of thoughts of what could go wrong from this trip ran through his head. But he preferred not to unsettle his friend with his worries: Because I don't know when I'll be back for Bree, Ponto. In Rivendell I am going to join the Scholar's Guild. There I will have to study and learn about the elves, about the history of the ancient cities and their ruins, about medicines and concoctions... and I suppose that will take me a while -he admitted.
Silence fell between them, and this time it lasted several minutes. Between puffs, between each emptying and lighting of the pipe, Kennet tried to fix in his mind the landscape between them. It was so common, so many days he had spent in this same place, that the prospect of not seeing it for a long time generated in him a strange feeling of sadness and nostalgia. He passed his eyes over every tree he had seen grow over the years, over every hobbit hole in Staddle he saw from there, over every hill that loomed on the other side of the Great East Road....
And as soon as Ponto broke the silence, it became clear that the hobbit had also been brooding over that journey: I still remember the day you found a carved piece of stone in the ruins of Crumbled Court and took it as if it were a valuable treasure. Were you taller than me even then?
The memory brought a smile to Kennet's face. Yes! I remember... I believe we were about the same height… -said the young man looking down at his friend. A traveler told me the signs in that stone was a fragment of a text in Adunaic, the ancient language of the High Men of the past. From then on I wore it around my neck like a pendant. The memory always comforted Kennet, for that chance encounter awakened the spark of curiosity and thirst for knowledge of the past that he always had.
Ponto frowned slightly and raised his gaze to Kennet's neck. You don't have it anymore?
-No way! I lost it a few years ago when I was swimming in the river -he said, pointing with his head to the river that ran beside Ponto's farm and fed the lake behind his hobbit hole.
Another long moment of silence fell between them. The two friends' attention was on a small group of hobbit children who were playing as they ran along the road with a long-haired grey dog, who almost outnumbered them in size.
-I'm not your father, Kennet, but I'll tell you something Cyril often repeated -Ponto took the pipe from his lips and with it in his hand remarked each word of his next statement: Forewarned is forearmed -he said, before bringing the pipe back to his lips. So be careful on your journey. Travelers coming from the east tell stories of giant spiders and cruel goblins. Do you understand me? -he asked in a serious tone.
-Be calm, Ponto. I will avoid any trouble during the journey and I will always try to sleep indoors -Kennet assured in a calm tone, trying to take the risk out of the journey. I will not go alone, Meldanyel will accompany me to Rivendell.
-Meldanyel? Who is she? -he asked at once.
-A good friend, Ponto. And a very capable one -he added with conviction. I am grateful to her for accompanying me; everything will be better with her by my side.
The hobbit nodded silently and took the last puff he had left in his pipe. The sunset was slowly changing the hue of the sky, and Ponto sighed, emptying the pipe and taking a dirty rag out of his pocket to start cleaning and putting it away. Kennet also saw the time to say goodbye to his friend, for the next morning they would be leaving at first light. So he imitated him and began to clean his pipe.
-I will bring you some elven tobacco from Rivendell. If these elves are such magnificent creatures, they must have excellent tobacco -Kennet promised in good humor.
-If I see you again at my farm in one piece, that's gift enough for me -said Ponto, his eyes fixed on cleaning his pipe.
-That's for sure. When I return to Bree-land you'll be the first one I'll come to greet -the young man assured him.
Kennet put away his pipe and knelt down in front of Ponto, to get down to his level. I hope to see you soon, good friend -he said, opening his arms.
In the past, when they were of similar height, Kennet used to hug Ponto when he saw him, but he had grown out of that habit years ago. Ponto smiled and, after a few seconds of hesitation, he also opened his arms and they embraced.
When they parted, the hobbit sighed. Watch your step... and if you bring that Elvish tobacco... shall we smoke a pipe together? -he asked, also in good spirits.
-Of course we will! -Kennet affirmed with a broad smile. The young man stood up and they both waved goodbye with a quick wave of the hand. Kennet turned in Hawthorn's direction, while Ponto turned back to his boxes and began stacking them next to the lantern on the wall of his hobbit hole.
Kennet mounted his horse, and the mount began to move forward in the direction of the Homesteads. The rider glanced back, seeing Ponto at his daily chore and fixing that memory in his mind. He was already beginning to miss his company, and he hadn't even started his journey yet....
