Ranamir of Gondor

 

Ranamir limped into the Shire, and his rough looks and piercing eyes immediately roused the wary citizens.

Three months after the Battle of Bywater, life had only just started returning to normal. Was this another Ruffian coming back to defile their beloved land? Would they have to take up arms again?

Bells rang and dogs barked. A large crowd bearing farm tools and frying pans materialized around the much larger man. A few scarred fellows had swords, now kept sharp since Trouble had so recently come to their land. The Shire folk had learned from bitter experience to face down evil at once, never let it take hold.

The stranger claimed he was from some foreign place called Minas Tirith and he knew a hobbit called Peregrin Took in The War. A lad on a pony was sent to fetch Master Peregrin; the murmuring crowd remained. Those who left were quickly replaced by others who had just heard the news. Ranamir sat in the shade with his sword sheathed.

When Master Peregrin arrived, the muttering stopped and all eyes fell on the giant hobbit.

"Rani!" Peregrin cried, a huge smile split his face as he dismounted.

"Pippin, my friend!" Ranamir stood stiffly and they embraced.

"The leg is healed?" Pippin asked.

"Mostly," the man said.

The citizenry, seeing no blood needed spilt, drifted away to discuss this encounter in great detail for the next several months.

The talk of "the foreign man from Gondor" might have died down sooner, but Pippin put the outsider up in a small cottage and gave him a job as a bounder, a patrolman that walked the bounds of the shire watching for trouble and queer folk.

Over time, Ranamir became a common sight in the Shire, and enough stories and rumors had built up to paint a picture that satisfied most of the Shire folk. Some claimed to have heard scraps from Pippin himself.

The tavern tales said that Master Peregrin and Ranamir were guards at the castle in Gondor. They fought together during The War and Master Peregrin saved his life. The hobbits liked this part, and Pippin's legend grew among the impressionable younger folks. The older folk saw Pippin with new eyes. Perhaps he would make a good Thain one day.

A few years later, Ranamir was no more noteworthy than the Green Dragon. He never caused trouble, but he once kill a wolf that had been savaging the livestock. One farmer's wife was so happy, she sewed him a waistcoat with a white lion embroidered on the chest. It became his official uniform.

When the shiriff retired, Master Peregrin put out Ranamir's name as replacement, and the stories started all over again.

"This is outlandish! Surely there are hobbits worthy of the post," some said.

"He's so strange and somber," some said. "He never laughs."

"Yer daft," others said. "I seen him laugh and sing songs. And, boy can he put away the beer. I seen him drink enough to fill a bull's stomach."

"Well, if he's good enough for Master Peregrin, he's good enough for me," was the general consensus.

And this, my dears, is how a broken soldier found a home and purpose - and healing - among the small, ridiculous people of a quiet land. May you be so lucky.

Inspired by the Lord of the Rings saga by JRR Tolkien.

Art and words by Mickey Kulp, 2022.