Chapter 1. Making Preparations

April the 28th, S.R. 1463

Everard Took straightened from the plans he perused to wipe away the perspiration trickling down the side of his face.

‘Hot enough for you?’ the hobbit in charge of the new diggings in Tookbank said, applying his own kerchief.

‘If it is this hot in April, what’ll August be like?’ Everard answered, putting his handkerchief back in his pocket and taking a swig of lukewarm water from the bottle hanging from his belt.

‘Ah, this is unusually warm weather,’ the forehobbit, Lem Sandybank said. ‘Likely it’ll cool down in a week or two.’

‘Well, dry is good for digging,’ Everard said. ‘We might just get a foothold in these new smials before the spring rains shut us down again. We’ll be that much further when summer comes, fine dry digging weather that ought to be.’

‘Will ye be going back to Tuckborough this day?’ Lem asked.

‘Nay, I’ll stay over here a day or two at least,’ Everard said. ‘If we make enough progress, you can keep on digging even if the rains do start up again.’ He cast an eye at the cloudless sky and shook his head. ‘Much as I love digging, I do hope we’re not in for another drought this year.’

‘Not like the one a few years back,’ Lem agreed. ‘I thought the Shire would blow away in a cloud of dust.’

‘You weren’t the only one,’ Everard said. ‘Well we’d better get to work while we can; three days from now there won’t be work going on anywhere in Tookland, what with the wedding and all.’

‘Thain’s oldest son,’ Lem said, putting his own water bottle back on his belt after a gulp. ‘Quite the grand celebration. Is all of Tookland going to be there?’

‘Undoubtedly,’ Everard replied, ‘along with all of Hobbiton and Bywater as well, and most of Buckland, and everyone from every Farthing who knows the Mayor or the Thain, and a goodly portion of the Westmarch, I don’t wonder. It’ll be bigger than Bilbo’s birthday ever was.’

***

‘Stand still, Goldi!’ Rose scolded, and Goldilocks did her best to comply. It seemed she’d been perched atop this stool for an hour while her mother and sisters worked to pin the hem of her wedding dress.

Rose stepped back to eye the effect. ‘It’s still uneven on that side,’ she said, pointing to the left, and Daisy moved to that side.

‘Too low, or too high?’ she said through the pins protruding from her mouth.

‘Too high,’ Rose said, squinting at the aggravating hemline with a critical eye. The heat didn’t make things any easier, and there was still the sewing to do after the pinning was done, and the wedding only three days away!

She sighed as a breeze stirred the curtains by the open window, bringing with it snatches of song from those working to erect pavilions on the party field below Bag End. Much of the celebration would take place in the open air, of course, weather permitting, but they still needed to provide for shelter from rain, or shade from sun, especially if it continued unusually warm.

‘There, how is it now?’ Daisy asked.

Rose looked hard then walked a compass about Goldi’s stool. ‘That’ll do,’ she said at last, and all three lasses, Goldi, Daisy, and Primrose breathed sighs of relief. ‘Right, then, Goldi, take it off, carefully, mind, and we’ll start stitching on the hem.’

Goldi wobbled as she stepped down, and Daisy nearly swallowed her pins as she caught her sister. ‘Steady, now,’ she said sharply. Rose moved quickly to Goldi’s other side.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked, helping Daisy ease Goldilocks down until she was seated on the stool.

‘I am well,’ Goldi said, ‘it is just this heat... and standing for so long. I am well, really I am, Mum. A glass of water would set me aright.’

‘We could all do with a glass,’ Rose said, but before she could raise her voice to call Ruby, her youngest daughter appeared in the doorway with a tray.

‘Cold water, fresh from the spring,’ Ruby said with a smile. ‘I figured you might need some by now.’

‘Thank you, lass, that was very thoughtful,’ Rose said, handing the first glass to Goldilocks and taking another for herself. They all sipped the icy water in silence, listening to the singing and laughter on the field below.

‘Everything is ready for Ellie and Rosie-lass and their families, Mum,’ Ruby said, when all had replaced their glasses on the tray and Daisy and Primrose were helping Goldilocks out of her wedding dress.

‘Everything is happening so quickly,’ Goldi said, sounding breathless. ‘After all those years of waiting, that seemed to crawl by... and now,’ she ticked off on her fingers, ‘on the morrow Rosie and Ellie arrive, and the day after that the Bucklanders—they’ll be sleeping by the Water, is that right? -–and the day after that...’ her head spun just to think of it.

‘The wedding!’ her sisters chorused.

Her mother gave her a hug. ‘To think that in three days, you’ll remove to the Great Smials,’ Rose said tearfully. ‘How could I ever have complained of children underfoot? All of a sudden they’re grown and gone...’

‘I’m not gone yet, Mum, not hardly,’ Ruby laughed, ‘and not likely for another year or ten.’

‘Nor I,’ Primrose said. ‘Really, Mum, with a holeful of tweens, you’ve much to complain about. Sometimes Bag End hardly seems to contain us all.’

Daisy didn’t speak. When she turned thirty, her parents had allowed she was old enough to walk out with any hobbit of her fancy that came to call, providing, of course, that he met with their approval. Not a few had paid her their attentions, and there was a certain dark-haired, cheerful young farmer who brought a smile of recollection to her face at this moment.

‘At least it is only fifteen miles or so,’ Goldi said. ‘Why, the Great Smials is a stone’s throw compared to Undertowers. You can drive over whenever you like and arrive in time for tea.’

‘No doubt I will do just that, whenever the hustle and bustle of seven tweens becomes too much for me,’ Rose said dryly. ‘I only hope there’ll be a Bag End to come home to.’ Her daughters’ laughter washed around her, and she basked in the warmth of their joy.

***

‘I cannot believe it! Little Farry getting married!’ Meriadoc, Master of Buckland mused aloud.

‘Not so little anymore,’ Berilac, his steward replied with a laugh. ‘He’s taller than I am!’

‘And before you know it, Pip will be a grandfather,’ Merry added.

‘I cannot imagine it,’ Berilac said with a shake of his head.

‘Nor can I,’ Merry said, ‘but then, my own little ones are not so little anymore.’ He gazed out the window on the bright day and blessed the thick walls that kept out the heat. ‘Is today as hot as yesterday was?’

‘Perhaps a little warmer, as a matter of fact,’ Berilac said.

‘Is it another drought, do you think?’ Merry asked soberly.

‘Too early to tell,’ the steward answered. ‘We can hope for rain. At least the crops have a good start already, with all the rains we had earlier in the year.’

‘Still, April should be a rainy month,’ Merry said uneasily. ‘This kind of heat, this early in the year...’

‘It is teatime!’ caroled his wife, entering with a tray. ‘No more worries for the day.’

‘You’re just in time, Estella,’ Berilac said, rising out of respect for the Mistress of Buckland. ‘Your husband was working up a fine suit of worries just now.’

‘I wasn’t,’ Merry defended himself. ‘I was just commenting on the weather.’

‘Worrying about it, I warrant,’ Estella said, crossing to drop a kiss on top of his head. ‘I swear, if gold began to fall from the sky, you’d worry.’

‘Indeed I would,’ Merry said stoutly. ‘Such a thing would be completely unnatural.’

‘Well, no more worries this day, you promised me you’d only worry up until teatime,’ Estella said briskly, pouring a cup and fixing it to her husband’s taste.

Merry threw up his hands in surrender. ‘No more worry!’ he promised. With his next breath, he asked, ‘Is everything ready for the journey on the morrow?’ Berilac snorted and Merry defended himself. ‘It’s an honest question! I am not worried!’

‘Everything is ready, beloved,’ Estella said. ‘We could leave today, as a matter of fact, if we had a mind to.’

‘I am sure the Gamgees are up to their ears in preparations already,’ Merry said. ‘Let us be faithful to our word and arrive the day after tomorrow, as planned.’

‘You are as faithful as the day is long in the summertime,’ Estella murmured, perching on the arm of his chair and ruffling his hair with her fingertips.

Berilac picked up his walking stick from the desk, saying, ‘My own family awaits me.’

‘Your children are not taking tea in the nursery this day?’ Merry asked.

‘No, we are to picnic by the River,’ Berilac answered as he slowly made his way to the door with the aid of the stick. ‘We are taking advantage of the fine weather while it lasts. Undoubtedly the rains will return again in a week, perhaps less.’

‘Undoubtedly,’ Merry said, one arm stealing around his wife while he offered her a sip from his teacup. ‘Have a lovely picnic.’

‘You too,’ Berilac said with a grin, and firmly shut the door of the Master’s study behind him.

***

Ferdibrand Took sat so still at his desk that Pippin and Reginard stared, for Ferdi was almost never still. ‘Ferdi, is something amiss?’ the Thain asked.

‘No... no,’ the chancellor replied absently. ‘All is well, I think,’ but his tone was uncertain.

‘Is it your head again?’ Regi asked quietly.

‘My head? Nonsense!’ Ferdi snapped. ‘My head is fine!’ He was lying, of course, they could see it in the lines of pain around his eyes, but naturally they were too polite to say so. The chancellor, blinded in an encounter with ruffians more than a decade earlier, had been plagued by head pains of late, and not just during changes in weather as had been usual for him for years, but nearly every day now, whether fine or stormy.

‘What is it, then?’ Pippin said.

‘You didn’t feel it?’ Ferdi asked.

‘What?’ Pippin replied.

Ferdi shook his head. ‘Just a moment of unsteadiness, as if my chair were moving ever so slightly,’ he answered. ‘A mere fancy, brought on by the ale no doubt.’ They’d drunk a toast to the upcoming nuptials with a commission of merchants from Tuckborough a little earlier.

‘No doubt,’ Pippin answered mildly, exchanging a glance with Reginard. This had gone on for long enough. No matter how Ferdibrand felt about healers, the Thain was going to set Healer Mardibold on his chancellor on the morrow. Once Mardi got his teeth into a problem, he wouldn’t let go, no matter how impatient his patients might wax.

‘And how are preparations for the wedding coming?’ Ferdi said, changing the subject. ‘Has Farry shown any signs of running off, or breaking under the strain?’

‘No, but he did ask if we could have the wedding today and get it over with,’ Pippin said. The others chuckled.

‘How well I remember,’ Ferdi said and Reginard nodded agreement.

‘That’s the last paper for today,’ Pippin said, affixing his signature with a flourish, dripping wax onto the document and sealing it with his ring. ‘And we’re in good time for tea.’

‘Good,’ Ferdi said, rising from his desk. ‘It has been a long day.’ He felt his way around the desk, started for the doorway, but misjudged his course and missed for the first time in years. Pippin started up from his desk but Regi waved him back to his seat, though he himself was frowning with concern.

‘Did someone move the door?’ Ferdi asked in annoyance, feeling to one side and then the other.

‘Further to your right,’ Regi said quietly. ‘Would you like an escort?’

‘Whatever would I want an escort for?’ Ferdi said irritably. ‘Honestly, Reginard, you act as if I cannot find my way out of a... a...’ He put a hand to his head, at a loss for words.

‘Ferdi,’ Pippin said, starting up again, but Ferdi put his hand out to forestall him.

‘I am well, cousin,’ he said, finality in his tone. ‘Nothing that a spot of tea won’t fix.’

Pippin rather doubted that, but he held his peace as Ferdi found the door and exited the study.

Chapter 2. A Matter of Importance April the 29th, early in the day

Very early the following morning, the Thain’s chancellor felt his way along to the study. Reaching the study door, hearing no greeting from an escort stationed by the door, he spoke to the air, ‘Anybody here?’ Receiving no answer, he allowed himself to sag against the doorjamb, taking out his handkerchief to wipe his forehead. Putting his handkerchief away, he straightened, turned the knob, and went in.

From the doorway across the corridor, Tolibold Took let out a long-held breath. It seemed somehow like lying, to have stood by and said nothing to Ferdibrand, but he had his orders from the Thain.

Since the lack of a guard meant the Thain was not yet at his desk, Ferdi, on reaching his own desk, slumped into his chair and buried his head in his hands with a sigh. He felt better with his eyes closed and his hands over them, shutting out the stabbing flashes of light that assailed him almost constantly these days, though he remained as blind as ever.

He jerked upright, hearing Pippin say quietly, ‘Is it that bad, Ferdi?’

‘I beg your pardon, I didn’t hear you come in,’ he answered, taking a deep breath and schooling his expression: calm, cool, collected, just the slightest hint of surprise.

‘I was here already; I saw you come in, Ferdi, I saw what you hide from us when you know we are about.’

‘I am well,’ Ferdi said, trying for a pleasant tone, though annoyance threatened to spill over... or was it desperation?

‘I know how you feel about healers, cousin, but I have held my peace long enough,’ Pippin said implacably. ‘You are going to see a healer this day.’

‘I do not see,’ Ferdi said stubbornly.

‘Very well, then, a healer is going to see you,’ the Thain said firmly. Ferdi heard him get up from his chair and walk over; still he stiffened when Pippin touched his arm.

‘There’s no reason...’ he protested, and repeated, ‘I am well.’ He pulled away from Pippin’s hand, adding, ‘I do not want you to worry my Nell over naught.’

‘Too late, my sister is already worried,’ Pippin said.

‘You talked to her?’ Ferdi said in dismay.

‘She talked to me,’ Pippin answered. ‘You are not well, Ferdi, and we are not so blind as you seem to think us. Come, Ferdi,’ he added.

‘Do not turn me out to pasture,’ Ferdi said.

‘You wish to drop in the traces?’ Pippin asked softly. ‘It might not come to that. Let us see what Healer Mardibold has to say.’

Pippin was watching his cousin closely; he knew he’d won this skirmish, at least, when Ferdi’s shoulders slumped and he put a hand over his eyes again.

‘Very well, cousin,’ Ferdi said. ‘I’ll see him after teatime.’

Pippin chuckled grimly. ‘As a matter of fact, he’s waiting for you in your quarters even now.’

‘But what of all the business of the day...?’ Ferdi protested.

‘You are at the top of the list, Ferdi,’ Pippin said. He put a hand under Ferdi’s elbow, and the chancellor tensed, then nodded. There was no escape, it seemed. He allowed Pippin to help him up from the chair.

‘Do you want to take my arm?’ Pippin asked. He was surprised and alarmed when Ferdi acquiesced, allowing himself to be led to the study door. As they exited the study, the Thain jerked his chin to the escort still waiting across the corridor, and Tolly nodded. He moved to station himself by the door to the Thain’s study as soon as the Thain had led Ferdibrand away.

***

Pimpernel leaned against Pippin as they waited for Mardi to complete his examination. It still gave her a turn after all these years to find her little brother a head taller than herself, but now she welcomed the comfort of his strong arm, the sturdy chest that she could rest her head on. The smile she affected for the children was gone and tears took its place.

‘O Pip, I’m so frightened,’ she whispered. ‘Am I losing him?’ His arm tightened about her and she looked up to see his own face grim, before he noticed her gaze and pasted on a smile.

‘Mardi is sharp of eye and mind,’ he said reassuringly. ‘He’ll get to the bottom of this.’

‘He’s not eating,’ she said, repeating the worries she’d shared the previous evening, having stepped out on some excuse while Ferdi was telling the children their nightly story. ‘And what he does eat, he doesn’t keep down.’ She drew a shuddering breath. ‘I don’t think he’s sleeping, Pip.’

‘When your head aches badly, you don’t feel like eating,’ Pippin said, ‘and sleep might be difficult as well. Let us see what Mardi has to say before we give Ferdi up, shall we?’

The door opened suddenly, and Mardi was gesturing them to come in. Ferdibrand lay stiffly on the bed, one arm across his eyes. Pimpernel crossed to the bed to take her husband’s other hand, saying, ‘I’m here, my love,’ and when he felt her touch, he visibly forced himself to relax, pulling his arm down.

‘Ah, Nell, my own’ he said, opening his eyes with an effort and turning them towards the sound of Pimpernel’s voice. ‘I thought you’d be out with the children.’

‘Ferdi, my love,’ she said, trying for a casual tone, but he could hear the tears in her voice.

‘I am well,’ he said reassuringly. ‘It is all a lot of bother over nothing.’

‘Of course,’ Pimpernel said bravely as Mardibold nodded to her.

‘I’ll be back shortly,’ the healer said, ‘you sit on him a bit, Nell, until I get back.’

‘I don’t need a draught,’ Ferdi said as Pimpernel sat on the bed beside him and began to stroke the hair back from his forehead.

‘Of course you don’t,’ Mardi replied pleasantly, ‘but if I never gave anybody any draughts, pretty soon nobody would believe I’m a healer now, would they?’

‘You make about as much sense as Pippin does most of the time,’ Ferdi grumbled.

‘Thank you, cousin,’ Pippin said. ‘It is good to know I have your confidence.’ To his sister, he said, ‘I’ll go off with Mardi, make sure he doesn’t get lost on his way back.’

‘Hah,’ Ferdi said, then gasped as the pain assailed him with fresh vigour.

‘It is all right, my love,’ Pimpernel soothed, stroking his forehead with her fingers. ‘Just close your eyes. Do you want me to sing you a song?’ Pippin nodded to his sister as he and the healer eased themselves out of the room.

‘What is it?’ he asked Mardi after the door closed behind them and they were well down the corridor. ‘What’s happening to Ferdibrand?’

To his surprise, the healer shook his head. ‘I do not know,’ Mardi admitted. ‘I’ve never seen the like. I suspect it’s something to do with his eyes, but I cannot get a good look at them. Every time I bring a lamp close, it causes him such pain I can proceed no further.’

‘Light pains him?’ Pippin asked. ‘Is he seeing anything?’

‘He says not,’ Mardi answered. ‘Bright flashes of light, accompanied by stabbing pain. I do not know if the trouble is with his eyes, or inside his head.’ He was silent for a few strides, then said, ‘I wish Woodruff were still with us. She had more knowledge of healing in her little finger than most healers do in their entire being.’ He met the Thain’s gaze soberly. ‘We may lose him, Thain. He’s not kept any food down for nearly a week now, by his own confession. The nausea resulting from the head pain keeps him from taking anything more than a little water or tea.’ He shook his head. ‘If somewhat’s gone wrong inside his head, there’s naught much to be done.’

‘And the draught?’ Pippin asked as they entered the infirmary.

‘It’s a sleeping draught. I hope it will give him some relief if he can manage to get it down and keep it down, perhaps even allow him to sleep. He might be able to fight the pain were he stronger.’

Pippin watched him measure a mixture of herbs and powders into the cup and add the boiling water. Mardi stirred then covered the cup. ‘Let’s get this into him,’ he said. ‘It’ll be ready by the time we get back to him.’

Pippin was more worried, were it possible, to find all the fight gone out of Ferdi; he drank the sleeping draught without a hint of protest and lay back on the bed with a sigh. The Thain looked to the healer.

 'Well now, that's fine,' Mardi said cheerily. 'You ought to feel some relief soon now, Ferdibrand. The head pain ought to ease as sleep steals over you.'

 'I should hope so,' Ferdi muttered.

Pimpernel resumed her soothing strokes to the forehead. Ferdi sighed and she felt the tension slowly leave him.

 ‘Is that better, my love?’ Pimpernel whispered.

 ‘My Nell, my own,’ Ferdi murmured. ‘Ah, but to see your lovely face, just once more. I love you more than...’ his voice trailed off; he took a slow, deep breath, and another, and his breathing became deep and even.

 ‘Ferdi?’ she whispered, her heart contracting with fear for him.

 ‘It’s just the draught,’ Mardi said, squeezing her shoulder gently. ‘It makes him feel as if he’s being pulled away. He’ll come back to you again when he wakens.’

Pimpernel found this hopeful, for Mardi had been a healer longer than she’d been in the world. She would not have felt so comforted had she seen the glance that passed between healer and Thain behind her.

‘Where are the children?’ Pippin asked sotto voce.

‘With Rosamunda,’ Pimpernel answered. The steward’s children got on well with the chancellor’s, and Regi’s Rosamunda was one of those rare souls who could take on half a hundred children without mussing her hair or raising her voice. ‘I do believe your own little ones are with her as well. She and Diamond will be taking the whole flock on a picnic for elevenses.’

‘That’s right,’ Mardi said, ‘Rosa did mention something to that effect at breakfast this morning.’ When he’d reached his ninetieth year, he’d moved into the Great Smials with his daughter and her family and given his house in Tuckborough to his eldest son. He enjoyed his old garden more than ever now that he did not have the responsibility for its upkeep. The old healer got along well with his son-in-love Reginard, finding life in the Great Smials not nearly so obtrusive as he’d thought it would be. Both he and the other Tooks living in the Great Smials benefited from this arrangement: he was well cared for by his daughter, and for nearly ten years he had been ‘on the spot’ whenever a healer was needed.

‘Why don’t you go along?’ Mardi said suddenly, giving Pimpernel a keen glance. ‘Something tells me you haven’t been resting all that well, yourself. Lying awake, listening to your husband not-sleeping, I suspect.’

‘I...’ Pimpernel began.

‘Go on,’ Mardi insisted, and Pippin nodded. ‘I’ll keep watch with him,’ the old healer added, ‘and if I’m called away, I’ll have someone else watch. He should sleep until teatime.’

Pimpernel opened her mouth to protest, only to be interrupted by her brother.

‘Go,’ Pippin said. ‘You could use the sunshine and the rest.’ He was thinking that she needed to be strong, to be there for the children, just in case...

As if she caught the thought, she nodded, giving her sleeping husband’s hand a last squeeze. ‘Very well,’ she said, ‘but you will not pry me from his side so easily after I return from the picnic.’

‘I believe you,’ Pippin said with a smile. His own Diamond was the same way.

Chapter 3. Sorting out the Threads

April the 29th, mid-morning

Second breakfast over, a merry party started out from the Great Smials to the high meadow, where the spring flowers rioted and a spring came out of the hillside, icy cold, and ran down the hill to join the Tuckbourn on its long way to the Brandywine River. If Ferdibrand’s wife and children were quieter than usual, the Thain’s wife and daughters and the steward’s family were determinedly cheerful, trying to keep their minds from the fear of anticipated loss.

‘Wish we could go with them,’ Beregrin Took said to his oldest brother Faramir, as they turned back into the entrance of the Smials after waving goodbye to their mother, sisters, aunt, and cousins.

‘The tutor’s waiting for you,’ Faramir said firmly. ‘Father’s working until teatime this day, and expects us to do no less.’

‘I know,’ Borogrin, Beregrin’s twin said. He was the more serious of the pair. ‘We still have the rest of that lay to translate from the Elvish.’

‘Not to mention all those sums,’ the middle brother, Merigrin added. ‘I think we were supposed to figure out how many sacks of seed would be needed to plant the western fields, weren’t we?’

Beregrin groaned, holding his head. ‘I tried to tell Da that we’re too young to be doing such work,’ he said. ‘I hate translating Elvish lays.’

‘What was his answer?’ Borogrin said, interested.

‘He said, if translating twenty lines was too much for one day’s work, perhaps we needed more practice, and thirty lines might be better.’ The three younger sons of the Thain groaned, while the eldest tried to contain his laughter.

‘I’d rather just copy out another song of Gondor,’ Merigrin said. ‘Perhaps about an exciting battle.’

‘Battles aren’t exciting,’ Faramir said flatly. ‘They might be necessary, sometimes, but you always lose more than you bargained.’ He smiled to take the sting from his words, and added, ‘Come on! I’ll race you to the study!’ The old Thain’s study, attached to the Thain’s living quarters in the innermost part of the Great Smials, had been given over to the studies of his sons. Pippin’s study was on the outer face of the cliff containing the Smials, affording a panoramic view of Tuckborough and the surrounding countryside.

Since running in the corridors was forbidden, the sons of the Thain had a fine time seeing who could walk the fastest, ridiculous as they looked, and arrived laughing to greet Telebold Took, the tutor.

‘Are you staying, sir?’ Telebold asked, bowing to Faramir.

‘I’ll stay for a little while,’ Faramir said, ‘just to be able to report back to the Thain that his sons are working industriously at their lessons.’

‘Very good, sir,’ Telebold said. ‘Now, lads, I do believe we were to begin with line one hundred twenty-one...’

***

In the Thain’s study, Pippin turned back from the window with a sigh. ‘Wish I’d taken the day off and joined them,’ he said.

‘It’s not too late,’ Reginard answered.

‘What, and leave you with the work?’

‘I could take the day as well,’ Regi said, but he already knew the Thain’s answer.

Pippin shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, ‘not with the wedding coming up day after the morrow. There’ll be no work done from tomorrow until two days after the wedding, you know that.’

‘Will Ferdi be at the wedding, do you think?’ Regi said.

Pippin was silent for so long, staring out the window, that Regi thought he’d get no answer to his question, but finally he spoke. ‘I don’t know, Reg. We might well be losing him. How long can a hobbit go without eating?’

‘You went quite awhile, as I recall,’ Regi said, ‘back in the dark days.’

‘Ah, but I was able to eat little bits, here and there. Ferdi’s taken nothing for days now.’

There was a long silence, broken by the steward. ‘You told him once that when he goes, you’ll go,’ Regi mused.

‘So I did,’ Pippin said. ‘I’ve leaned heavily upon him over the years. Not sure if I could be Thain without him.’

‘You’d manage somehow,’ Regi said. ‘You always do.’

‘I dunno, Regi,’ Pippin said soberly. He lifted one corner of his mouth in a lopsided smile. ‘At least Farry’s coming of age this year means he can step up as Thain, should I choose to step down.’

‘You wouldn’t do that to the lad now, would you? Just newly wed and all! You ought to give him some time to enjoy himself before loading the burden of the Shire upon his shoulders,’ Regi said.

‘At least you’ve taken on Robin Bolger, trained him up nicely,’ Pippin replied as if he were not listening. ‘He’ll make Farry a fine steward, and he has the same phenomenal memory as his uncle Ferdibrand, as well as the same talent for sifting truth from error in the words of others.’

‘Pippin!’ Regi said.

Pippin smiled. ‘O I’m not stepping down quite yet,’ he said. More softly he added, ‘Not quite yet.’

***

‘Nearly time to depart,’ Merry said to Estella. ‘I see they are harnessing the ponies already and will soon be hitching up the coach.’

‘They still have the rest of the loading to do,’ Berilac said. ‘I’ll let you know when all is ready. No need to rush through your breakfast.’

As a matter of fact, the Master and Mistress of Buckland had time for another cup of tea, and another helping of bacon and mushroom omelette.

‘There,’ Estella said brightly, putting down her cup. ‘We did have time for second breakfast, after all.’ She smiled at the children. ‘Are you ready to go to Hobbiton?’

‘Yes!’ her son and daughter chorused, then the inevitable discussion began.

‘I want to sit by the window,’ little Miri said.

‘No, I do!’ her brother answered.

‘There are two windows,’ Merry said quietly. ‘Miri, apologise to your brother for being contentious.’

‘He was contentious too!’ Miri said indignantly.

‘Miri,’ her father said, and she subsided.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered then added under her breath, ‘but I still want to sit by the window.’

***

Michel Delving was the last overnight stop before Hobbiton, a good place to stop over when journeying from Undertowers. It was a day from Undertowers to Greenholm where the Fairbairns picked up Rose’s growing family, another day to Michel Delving, and now they were starting on the last leg of the journey. Rose and Elanor looked forward to seeing their old home once more, and the children were about as excited as the grandparents who awaited them in Bag End, if not a little more.

‘It looks to be another beautiful day,’ Fastred said, handing Elanor into the coach, then tossing in their two young daughters to the tune of delighted giggles. Elfstan hesitated on the step.

‘Can I ride up top with you, Dad?’ he said.

‘Well, now, I cannot think of better company,’ Fastred said. Elfstan broke into a wide grin and swarmed up the side of the coach, settling in the driver’s seat. Fastred picked up the basket of sleeping baby son and handed it in to Elanor. ‘There we are,’ he said. ‘All packed up and ready to go.’

‘Then let us go!’ Elanor said. ‘They’re expecting us for tea, after all.’ She turned to her sister, heavy with child. ‘Rose, are you comfortable?’

‘Quite,’ Rose said promptly. ‘I could not ask for a single thing.’ She smiled at her husband riding next to her. A healer, Leotred elected to ride in the coach with his wife, the better to keep a close eye on her. He was not completely happy travelling this close to the time of her confinement, but Rose’s sister was marrying the son of the Thain, and it would take more than mere discomfort to keep her from attending the festivities.

Fastred shut the door, nodded to the innkeeper and his staff standing in the early morning sunshine to see them off, climbed nimbly atop the box, picked up the reins, and said, ‘Tally-ho!’

The ponies moved out and the coach jerked into motion. Leotred, by dint of long practice with a well-timed grab kept his young son from falling out the window of the coach as they started forward.

‘What does that mean, Dad?’ Elfstan asked. ‘Tally-ho?’

Fastred laughed. ‘I’m not sure,’ he admitted, ‘but it sounded fine in the story your mum read to us last night before bed.’

‘It did at that,’ Elfstan said, then, ‘Can I drive?’

‘What would your mother say to that?’ Fastred asked.

‘She’d say ‘twas “May I drive?” ’ Elfstan answered. ‘May I?’

‘Four-in-hand is a bit much for a nine-year-old,’ Fastred said. Seeing his son’s face fall, he added, ‘Put your hands on mine. At least you can start to get a feel for the ponies that way.’ Elfstan nodded, reaching over, and they drove out of Michel Delving and on along the Great East Road.

After a time, Elfstan exclaimed, ‘But I do feel them, Dad!’

‘Do you, now?’ Fastred said. ‘What are your hands telling you?’

‘Something’s wrong with the offside lead,’ Elfstan said. ‘He keeps pulling the rein tight, then loose again. The others have a nice, steady feel.’

‘Good lad,’ Fastred said, well-pleased. ‘I expect his bridle needs adjusting. Something’s bothering him, strap’s not buckled right or twisted or somewhat. We’ll stop and see at the top of the next slope; wouldn’t want to stop halfway up as it’s too hard for the ponies to get started again, pulling uphill.’

‘Ah,’ Elfstan said wisely, nodding his head like an old ostler. ‘Take good care of your ponies and they’ll take good care of you,’ he said.

‘Who told you that?’ Fastred said with a smile.

‘ “Uncle” Ferdi,’ Elfstan answered. ‘His father was a pony trainer, you know.’

Fastred nodded. He’d spent hours listening to Ferdibrand’s stories during the years he’d worked as the chancellor’s assistant, before he was tapped to step up as Warden of Westmarch, probably on Ferdi’s recommendation, though Ferdi always gave the credit to the Thain. It would be good to see the older hobbit again, talk over old times, hoist a mug together...

Chapter 4. Just Before Elevenses: Tookbank (new diggings); South Farthing

The charges had been calculated, the holes drilled, the tubes inserted, fuses hanging like so many rat-tails. Everard wiped sweat from the back of his neck and once more blessed the King of Gondor.

Before Gandalf had sailed from the Grey Havens (no matter what one would want to say about the wizard and his reputation for bringing trouble with him), he’d given King Elessar the secret of black powder, that the wonder of fireworks should not be lost from Middle-earth. He’d told the King about other uses for black powder, and the King had considered long before deciding to share the secret.

The dwarves were a shade too aggressive, perhaps, and might not have used the black powder in their excavations at any rate, seeing how reverently they chipped away in their diggings. Long life makes for careful work, or perhaps it’s the other way around. So the dwarves are fond of saying. Everard smiled, remembering the time he spent at the Lonely Mountain, sent there by Thain Peregrin in order to learn more of digging and delving.

Elessar had decided that the peaceable hobbits could make good use of the black powder in their excavations, and he had been correct in his estimation. The Master of Buckland and his chief engineer had learned much in a visit to Lake Evendim, had brought the secret and barrels of powder back to Buckland, used the powder and refined its use until with the help of the powder a new smial could be built in a few days, a series of storeholes in a few weeks, even in the most stubborn rock face. The stuff also was handy in snuffing wildfires. Last but not least the inhabitants of the Shire enjoyed the fireworks; though perhaps not as elegant as Gandalf’s they were still bright and colourful. There might be other uses for the powder, but none among hobbits was curious enough to discover any.

An assistant finished braiding the last of the fuses into the oiled candlewicking that ran back to where Everard and the rest of the workers waited. He waved his arms and Everard lifted his horn to his lips, blowing two long blasts, and two more, and two more again, the old signal for “Danger! Stay clear!”

The assistant trotted back to the group, panting a little in the heat. ‘Sure looking forward to getting underground,’ he said when he reached them. ‘It’s always nice to dig in the cool earth.’ Hobbits with flags, standing well to either side of the blast zone, waved flags to indicate that the area was clear.

 ‘Would you like to do the honours?’ Everard asked Lem Sandybank.

The latter broke into a wide grin. ‘Would I!’ he said with enthusiasm. ‘I’ve been hearing about you and your magic powder for years! Never thought I’d get to see it in action.’

 ‘Never knew Tookbank had such stubborn rock,’ Everard replied. ‘The rains will return any time now, and if we don’t have a foothold dug, we’ll have to come back in the summertime.’ He stuffed his pipe with pipeweed, lit a taper and got his pipe going well, then handed the taper to Lem with a nod. ‘Go ahead,’ he said.

Lem touched off the candlewicking and the watching hobbits lowered themselves to their bellies to watch the smouldering run. A most satisfying rumble resulted and a cloud of dust went up.

 ‘That’s got it,’ Everard started to say, only to falter as the rumble continued, instead of dying away as it ought. Indeed, it intensified as the earth beneath them began to tremble.

 ‘Is that usual?’ Lem said, then gasped as the solid ground beneath him began to rock violently. Horrified, the hobbits grasped at the ground, but it was no refuge. Lem had the terrible feeling that the earth was trying to shake them loose, angered by the blast he’d set off. Desperately he clenched his fists in the grass, seeking some sort of anchor in a world gone mad.

***

An Elf and a Dwarf were riding through the South Farthing on a tall elf-horse, looking with interest at the hobbits who stopped their tasks to wave and gesticulate.

 ‘We’re invited for elevenses it seems,’ the Dwarf grunted.

 ‘Ah,’ answered his companion. ‘I hate to disappoint them.’

 ‘Do you suppose we can get any beer?’ Gimli said reflectively.

 ‘At this time in the morning?’ Legolas said, then rubbed his chin. ‘The South Farthing is known throughout the Shire for its wines...’

Gimli gave a bark of laughter. ‘In any event their larders will be well-stocked,’ he said. ‘I still remember my father’s stories about Bilbo’s pantries.’

 ‘True,’ Legolas said. ‘If we make a good meal now we can ride straight through to the Great Smials...’

 ‘And “be there in time for tea”,’ Gimli said, quoting the hobbity proverb for arriving in good time.

 ‘Perhaps not tea,’ Legolas said literally. ‘But by late supper, in any event.’ He murmured a few words in his own tongue and patted the horse’s shining neck. The horse snorted and tossed its head.

 ‘He says he could be there in time for tea if he wanted to,’ Gimli grunted.

 ‘If we went at a gallop all the way,’ Legolas agreed, ‘but there’s no need for that.’ He turned the horse’s head into the lane and they ambled into the farmyard.

 ‘Well come and well met!’ the farmer was shouting. ‘Gimli and Legolas! It must be you, for what other of the Fair Folk and the Delvers would ride together?’ Hobbit children clustered behind him, staring in awe.

 ‘You have the advantage of us,’ Legolas smiled, while Gimli scowled happily at the recognition and stroked his beard. No matter how many dwarves travelled the roads of the Shire, the hobbits never quite got used to seeing beards.

 ‘Farmer Mallow at your service,’ the farmer said with a bow.

 ‘And at...’ Legolas began, only to break off as the earth quivered beneath their feet. The horse threw up its head and whistled, the farm dogs barked, the cows lowed, the ponies neighed, the chickens... to put it succinctly, every living creature on the farm expressed its surprise and dismay. The hobbit children clung together, and the farmer’s wife, standing in the doorway, gave a shriek of alarm.

Several tiles slid from the roof of the dwelling with a clatter, and an old shed collapsed in a pile of splintered wood and dust before the rumbling died away and the earth stood once more solid and steady beneath their feet. The farmer’s wife stumbled to her brood, falling on her knees to envelop them in her trembling arms, sobbing in reaction. The farmer, released from his horrified thrall, hurried to embrace her and murmur reassurances, though he himself was not sure what had happened.

Gimli knew at once. ‘An earth shake!’ he growled. ‘A subsidence somewhere.’

 ‘Earth shake?’ the farmer said, his own voice none too steady.

Swiftly the dwarf stooped and drew a series of concentric circles in the dust. Pointing to the centre, he said, ‘The disturbance is worst here, but the effects spread out, growing smaller with distance.’

 ‘Is this the centre?’ the farmer said. ‘You mean, we had the worst of it, and there’s naught worse to fear?’

 ‘I didn’t say that,’ the dwarf corrected. At the hobbits’ puzzled looks, he explained, ‘I don’t know where the centre was. This could be it, as you said, but this could also be one of the outer rings, and the shaking was much worse elsewhere.’

 ‘How would we know?’ the farmer asked, and Gimli shrugged. These people were not travellers, he knew. Not much point in telling them to pick a direction and walk, taking note of whether damage grew less or worse.

 ‘There might be more shakes,’ was all he said. ‘These things happen in company. If you do feel the ground begin to move again,’ he added, ‘get yourselves outside. The next shake could be worse.’ He nodded significantly to the collapsed shed, and the farmer nodded.

 ‘I was forgetting,’ Farmer Mallow said suddenly as the two travellers moved to remount the elf-horse. ‘We wished to offer you the hospitality of our home. We were just about to sit down to elevenses...’

 ‘Another time, perhaps,’ Legolas said with a bow. ‘With this untoward happening we wish to reach our destination as quickly as may be.’

The farmer nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I certainly understand. If you come back this way, I shall hold you to it!’

Legolas laughed. ‘You do that,’ he said. He helped Gimli onto the horse and lightly sprang into the saddle. ‘Fare well!’

 ‘And you!’ the farmer answered. The family watched the two ride away and then made a quick tour of the farm to assess damages. Not much was wrong, and nothing that couldn’t be fixed save the old shed which the farmer had planned to pull down anyhow. The shake had saved him some work. It was an ill wind that didn’t blow anybody any good. Much reassured, the family sat down to enjoy their elevenses, only a little disappointed that the visitors couldn’t stay.

Chapter 5. Just Before Elevenses: the Great Smials, Brandy Hall

Pippin still stood by one of the great round windows that offered a panoramic view of Tuckborough and the surrounding hills, for the Thain’s study was on one of the higher levels in the Great Smials. (Living quarters, of course, were to be found on the lower levels, for not even Tooks like to go upstairs to bed.) Taller than a hobbit, even Pippin, the window gave him the feeling that he could step out and walk upon the air. It was a curious illusion of freedom for one weighed down with all the cares of the Shire.

Reginard was going over the business of the day, but Pippin was only half-attending. A part of him was still with Ferdibrand, worrying, and another part was wondering at the swift passage of years. It seemed hardly possible that Farry would wed two days hence.

The little group of picnickers had passed out of sight behind the next great hill, and the Thain turned his eye to more nearby sights. The head of the Thain’s stables, Young Tom—still called “Young” though his father Old Tom had been gone a score of years—was working a pony in the ring to one side of the stables. The stable lads had finished their morning duties and were sitting in the sunny courtyard, swapping stories. Lines of laundry flapped in the gardens of Tuckborough; hobbit lasses and matrons with baskets over their arms were coming home from the morning’s shopping, carrying fresh bread from the baker for elevenses, with the nooning meal already bubbling over the fire and sending out its promise on the air.

Everywhere he looked the Thain saw contentment and prosperity. All was as it ought to be. Should he decide to step down, he’d leave Faramir with a well-trained team, pulling a waggon with greased wheels and few squeaks and rattles on a road in good repair. He craned his neck to look to the South, towards Gondor. Perhaps he ought to take Diamond on a long journey, let Faramir have the running of the Shire, a sort of trial for the lad—lad no longer, grown to a hobbit he was. Where had the years gone?

’And then of course there is the shipment of pipeweed from the South Farthing,’ Reginard was saying.

’When was that due to arrive?’ Pippin asked, not turning from the window.

’Some time this week,’ Reginard said, ‘and they will expect payment by...’

***

Meliloc Brandybuck leaned against the fence, watching the young pony trotting in circles while Young Tom turned with him, keeping him on his pace. He looked at the angle of the sun. It was not quite time for elevenses. He had a few more moments before Pervinca would be expecting him at table.

’Walk!’ Young Tom said, and the pony dropped to a walk.

’He’s looking well!’ Meliloc called. ‘When do you think you’ll put him under saddle?’

’There’s time yet,’ Young Tom called back. ‘Wouldn’t want to give him weight to carry until he’s old enough to carry it.’

Meliloc nodded. He thought of the rumours: that Thain Peregrin would step down some time this year when his son reached his majority. He hoped they were just that—rumours—for the Tooks loved to talk and speculate nearly as much as they loved to eat. Faramir was a fine hobbit, ‘twas true, having steadied well from the wilder ways of his early years, but too young to be pulling the whole weight of the Shire behind him in Meliloc’s opinion, or carrying the weight of the Thainship.

’Ho-oh!’ Young Tom said and the pony halted, swivelling its ears. ‘Well done, lad,’ Tom said, walking forward to pat the shining neck. Lesson over, Meliloc decided, and turned away from the fence towards the Great Smials and his waiting wife.

’See that my pony’s saddled after teatime!’ he called to Young Tom over his shoulder and received a wave in reply. The young pony started, and Tom called to him in a soothing tone, reaching for the bridle. 

Before Tom could touch the animal, however, it shied violently and half-reared, taking the trainer by surprise. ‘Steady, lad,’ he said, startled.

Meliloc heard shrieks from the ponies within the stables, howling of dogs in the town, uproar amongst the nearby fowl, and just as he had time to wonder, the earth reared up beneath him, throwing him into the fence. As he tried to catch hold of the fence, something to cling to as the world dissolved into chaos, it splintered and was torn asunder by the quaking of the ground that anchored it. A great thunder was in the air and Meliloc watched in utter amazement as windows shattered in the face of the Great Smials, sending bodies tumbling into the air, their screams unheard, drowned in the groaning of the tortured earth. The world was ending, he decided, even as his head hit something hard and blackness descended upon him.

***

Merry put down his teacup and said, ‘That’s that! Let us be off; we still have to get halfway to Bywater before the day is out.’

’Of course, beloved,’ Estella said, but her husband was not listening to her, she could tell by the set of his shoulders that something was worrying him again. ‘What is it, beloved?’ she said, but her own eyes looked where he was staring: the teacup had rattled on the saucer when he’d put it down, as if his hand shook; but it kept rattling after he took his hand away.

Estella gasped, her hand to her mouth, and Master and Steward followed her gaze to the mantel, where a heavy vase was dancing by itself to the edge and over, smashing on the hearthstones below. Berilac’s cane slid from the wall to the floor with a clatter.

’What is it?’ Estella whispered.

’Earth shake,’ Berilac breathed. ‘There hasn’t been one of those in the Shire since the time of Thain...’

The floor gave a more violent jerk beneath them, and Estella screamed, something Merry could not recall having ever heard from her before. His gaze, however, was transfixed by the view out of the shattering windows.

’The River!’ he gasped. The Brandywine was flowing... backwards. ‘It cannot be,’ he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Pieces of plaster began falling from the ceiling. ‘Under the desk!’ Berilac snapped, and all scrambled to that dubious safety. It was hard to feel safe with the ground moving beneath.

Merry held Estella tightly for some time after the rumbling stopped. Finally Berilac poked his head out from under the desk, observing the ruin of the Master’s study. Books had been shaken from the shelves, ornaments were smashed, the windows gaped, their glass gone, pieces of plaster littered every surface, and plaster dust hung in the air.

’The children!’ Estella whispered. Merry helped her from under the desk. ‘I’m sure they’re safe,’ he said. ‘They ought to have been outside, waiting by the coaches...’ He looked to Berilac and snapped, ’Call Doderic. I want to know what sort of trouble might result from this, what the damage is, how many got hurt and who they are.’

’Right away, sir,’ Berilac said, retrieving his cane from the floor.

’O and send a pony post rider to the Great Smials,’ Merry said. ‘Let Pippin know what happened, and that we might not be able to make it to the wedding the day after tomorrow after all.’

’He’ll be off within the quarter hour,’ Berilac said, and set out to make it so.

Chapter 6. Just Before Elevenses: Bag End; Between Michel Delving and Bywater

Rose pushed away from the washtub to wipe her glowing face. It would be a fine day for drying wash, very warm and breezy, but it was a hot day to be working. She hoped Samwise would not overdo, what with the wedding preparations yet to be done. Scraps of song came from the Party Field where sweating hobbits were erecting large pavilions. They would be needed more for shade than a precaution in the event of rain!

A pleasant baritone started a new song and Rose smiled as she recognised a Tookish hunting song. The Thain had sent a good many Tooks to help with preparations, and a good thing it was, too, what with half the Shire expected to attend the celebration. More voices joined and soon it sounded as if a full chorus laboured upon the Party Field.

Rose wiped again at her brow and raised her voice. ‘Goldi!’ she called. ‘We’ve got a load ready to go on the lines!’ She smiled at Primrose who was working the wringer. ‘It’s nearly time for elevenses. Do you think Ruby needs help in the kitchen?’

The pretty tween laughed. ‘I think she has plenty of help. She said she was going to roll out biscuits and I’m sure Robin and Tolman will do anything to be allowed to test the first to come out of the oven.’

The two oldest Gamgee girls still at home came laughing to swoop up the baskets of clean, wrung-out sheets for the guest beds. ‘I’ll race you!’ Goldi cried.

 ‘What’ll you give me if I win?’ Daisy answered.

 ‘The second piece of my wedding cake,’ Goldi said saucily.

 ‘Who gets the first piece?’

 ‘Girls,’ Rose warned. ‘Don’t be careless and dump all the clean sheets on the grass!’

 ‘We won’t, Mama,’ they chorused and bore their baskets out to the lines.

Rose pushed her curls back and smiled at Primrose. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘shall we get another load done before elevenses?’

 ‘Tablecloths, I think,’ Primrose answered. ‘They’ll go quickly; just wash, rinse, wring and hang and we’re ready to have a rest. That’ll give the wash water time to cool a bit before we start washing coloured things.’

 ‘O yes,’ Rose said, raising eloquent eyebrows. ‘It wouldn’t do to try to stir your father’s and brothers’ clothes in boiling-hot water as someone did once...’

Primrose burst out laughing, but she managed to dump the tablecloths into the steaming water. Rose stirred them in the hot, soapy water with the wooden paddle, saying, ‘They’re not all that dirty, after all, just a bit dusty from sitting since...’

She suddenly felt dizzy, unsure of her footing, and wondered if she’d overdone in the heat. The water in the tubs was sloshing without benefit of stirring paddle. Alarmed shouts were heard in yard and smial and Party Field, mingled with a rumbling sound reminiscent of summer thunder. ‘Mother, get back!’ Primrose cried as the hot water slopped over the sides, but even as Rose let go the paddle the table swayed and the steaming tubs shifted. The sound of smashing crockery came from the kitchen, along with a scream from Ruby.

Though the ground was tilting and moving beneath them, Primrose managed to grab at her mother’s arm, pulling her away from the tubs as they upset, the scalding water cascading where Rose had been standing bare seconds before. As it was the water splashed their feet and lower legs, even as the lean-to roof of the washing shed buckled and the fire beneath the kettles was set free of its bounds.

***

Elfstan proudly held the reins as his father climbed down and walked to the head of the offside lead pony.

 ‘Here’s the trouble!’ Fastred called. ‘There’s a loose strap! Someone was a bit hasty in their harnessing this morning.’ He remedied the problem and slipped his hand between bridle and pony’s cheek to check the fit. At that moment the pony threw up its head and then reared up with a piercing cry. ‘Whoa laddie,’ Fastred said as soothingly as he could, what with his arm being sharply jerked upwards. In the next second all four ponies were rearing and plunging in the traces, whistling their terror as the ground moved beneath them. It was all Fastred could do to keep his feet.

He was half-expecting what happened next; he shouted, ‘Hold fast!’ to Elfstan even as the ponies decided that discretion was the better part of valour and they’d be better off running from danger than standing still to endure whatever was happening. ‘Don’t let go!’ he added at the top of his voice, pulling his hand free of the bridle and grabbing at the lead pony’s mane just as the maddened beasts plunged into a gallop.

Fastred used their momentum to bounce himself onto the offside lead-pony’s back. He could hear shrieks from inside the coach as they careened down the hill, but all his attention was on keeping the ponies on the Road. Should the coach overturn at this speed...

They reached the bottom of the hill without upset and the ponies stretched out, running along the flat at their top speed. Fastred blessed Mayor Sam’s diligent attention to keeping the Great East-West Road in good repair; there were no great lumps of boulders or holes to avoid, nothing to break an axle, upset the coach or lame a pony. He leaned forward, crooning to the lead ponies, grabbing hold of the lines and exerting a steady pull. The rough, jerky, panicked run was settling into a steady coordinated gallop, well matched as the ponies were.

As they started up the next slope, Fastred shouted, ‘Brake!’ and increased his pull on the lines, which somehow Elfstan was managing to keep taut. With relief he felt the brake take hold, exerting its own backwards pull on the ponies; he hadn’t been sure Elfstan was large or strong enough to engage the brake. ‘Steady now,’ he soothed. The laid-back ears twitched as he continued to talk to the lead ponies. ‘Whoa now, steady.’

The increasing slope, the pull on the lines, the hampering brake all served to slow the ponies’ pace. Halfway up the hill they were cantering, not far beyond that they fell into a trot, and as they reached the top they slowed to a walk. With a last ‘Whoa’ Fastred brought them to a stop, shuddering, dripping foam, eyes rolling and heads tossing, but a stop it was.

For the first time he looked behind him and saw Leotred on the box beside Elfstan, standing on the brake while he hauled back on the lines. How his brother had climbed from inside the coach to the driver’s seat in the midst of the emergency, Fastred did not even want to imagine.

Fastred soothed and patted until the lead ponies’ shudders subsided to trembling, then he slid from the offside lead’s back. ‘Steady now,’ he said for a last time.

 ‘That was interesting!’ Leot called from the box. ‘Should we go at that pace all the way to Hobbiton we’d arrive before we left, I warrant.’ Maintaining his firm grip on the reins, he leaned over to call into the coach. ‘Everyone all right in there?’

 ‘All well!’ Eleanor called back. ‘Rose says you’ll have to try a bit harder if you want the babe born this day.’

 ‘We’ll shake that babe loose yet, mark my words!’ Leot returned.

 ‘Not until after the wedding!’ Rose was heard to shout, and Fastred grinned in relief. He patted the lead ponies again and walked back to the coach, opening the door to look in. The ladies were pale, the children were flushed with excitement, and the babe had slept through the whole affair. It figured. Their littlest had his days and nights mixed up as it was; up half the night wanting to eat or play made him sleepy enough during the day to sleep through anything, even...

 ‘Was that an earth tremor?’ Fastred asked slowly.

 ‘A tremor,’ Leot said thoughtfully. ‘That would explain things quite nicely, I’d say.’ To his nephew he added, ‘Well Elfstan, you’ve lived through a bit of history. There’s not been an earth shake in the Shire in an Elf’s age.’

 ‘Not quite that long,’ Fastred said. ‘I think the last was back a year or two before they began to delve the Great Smials.’

 ‘Long enough,’ Leot said. ‘Let’s hope it’s just as long before the Shire has another.’

 ‘Once is decidedly enough for me,’ Fastred agreed.

 ‘All this talk is getting us no closer to Bag End!’ Rosie snapped from inside the coach. ‘If nothing’s wrong with ponies or coach, let us be on our way.’

 ‘Of course, my dear,’ Leotred said in his most soothing tone. ‘Fas, why don’t you ride inside a bit, have a bite to eat. I’ll drive awhile.’

 ‘Thanks,’ Fas said. He felt rather drained, and a bite to eat might just be what he needed. ‘Elfstan? Do you want to ride inside?’

 ‘Can’t I stay up top awhile longer?’ Elfstan pleaded.

 ‘It’s up to your Uncle Leot,’ Fastred said.

 ‘I don’t know what I’d do without my assistant,’ Leotred said proudly, clapping the lad on the shoulder. ‘He held fast, just like you told him to, long enough for me to climb up and take the lines. Had he lost hold of the lines I wager the ponies would be running still.’

 ‘That’s a sure thing,’ Fastred said. ‘If we didn’t come a cropper we’d be pulling in to Bywater by now.’ He grinned and nodded Good job! at his eldest son and Elfstan grinned back. Surely the rest of the day would be uneventful. How could anything top the excitement they’d just lived through?

Chapter 7. As the Dust Settled

Everard and the other hobbits at the diggings lay flat for a long time, hugging the ground, before the first unsteadily climbed to his feet, the others following suit somewhat sheepishly. Their ponies, conditioned to the noise of a blast, were not trained to stand when the earth rocked violently beneath their feet. The beasts had pulled their pickets and were running wild on the plain.

 ‘Did—did we do that?’ Lem asked shakily, the sweep of his arm encompassing the now serene landscape.

 ‘Nay,’ Everard said, ‘that was an earthshake, something they taught us about but I never in my lifetime expected to see.’ He shook his head as if to clear it and raised his voice in a shout. ‘Is anyone injured?’

Shouts of All well! came back from the scattered workers.

 ‘Right then! Gather round!’ Everard shouted. He trotted to the diggings, his assistants behind him, Lem following.

Reaching the site of the blast, Everard stopped for a quick survey. ‘Powder did just as it was asked,’ he said to the others who came up behind him. He clapped Lem on the back saying, ‘Tookbank rock is really something! Look at it, a perfect entryway as planned. I figured it would fall in with the earth shaking as it did, but no, there’s no damage apparent, save our nerves perhaps.’

 ‘That bodes well for Tookbank,’ Dinny said behind him. ‘Not too many roofs ought to have come down on folks’ heads.’

 ‘We’ll take a look anyhow,’ Everard said, squinting towards the peaceful little community. Smoke was rising, more than ought to come from cooking fires, he thought. ‘There may be injuries, and digging out to do. Come along.’ He took a few strides towards the town, then stopped. ‘Dinny,’ he said, ‘if you can get hold of a pony, I want you to ride to the Great Smials and let the Thain know what’s happened.’

 ‘He probably already knows,’ Dinny said dryly. ‘Even if we were at the centre, they ought to have felt something in Tuckborough.’

***

Reginard was aware of the silence for some time before he lowered his arms from covering his head. It was so very silent... perhaps the roar of the tortured ground had deafened him. But no, he heard a faint voice that seemed to be calling his name.

He pushed aside debris that had fallen against his desk, ended up having to worm his way around a great beam that had fallen onto the desk. He blessed the sturdy piece of furniture, and the luck that had caused him to fall beneath the desk when he tried to rise from his chair, a chair now in slivers and strewn over the lush carpet. He could hardly see the carpet for all the debris. Quite a clearing out would be needed to set the Thain’s study to rights.

 He realised his thoughts were drifting as the voice called his name again. ‘Where are you?’ he shouted.

 ‘Here!’ Pippin’s voice called back; it was Pippin, though he did not sound at all like himself, Regi thought disjointedly. ‘Cannot hold...’

Moving as in a dream, Regi crawled to the window, not noticing the shattered glass scattered over the floor that cut into his hands and knees. How could Pip be outside the window? They were on the highest level of the Great Smials. The tallest ladder was needed to wash the windows, and few were the servants who were daring enough to tackle the task.

The curtain rod on the left-hand window was askew, one end still in its holder, the other on the floor, braced hard against the wall as if some weight pinned it there. Reaching the opening, Regi peered cautiously out. There was no sign of the Thain.

 ‘Here!’ Pippin gasped, and looking down, Regi found the world coming back into sharp focus. Just below him, the Thain clung desperately to the fabric hanging from the rod.

He must have grabbed at the curtain as he fell through the window, Reginard thought with the part of his mind that was still oddly detached, even as he grasped at the curtain and said, ‘Hold tight! I’ll pull you in!’

 ‘Hurry!’ Pippin said. ‘I cannot hold much longer...’

As if he were hale as the Old Took himself, Regi pulled at the curtain with a strength he didn’t know he possessed. Happily Pippin had not put on weight with age as most hobbits did, or the older hobbit would never have managed. Hand over hand he pulled, seeing with no more than academic interest the bloody smears his grasp left on the fabric, until he could reach Pippin’s hand. He elected to grasp the arm instead, fearing the hand would slip from his, bleeding as he was. How had he cut himself? No matter. He pulled Pippin into the study, trying to avoid the worst of the jagged edges of glass still in the frame.

The Thain was bleeding from many gashes, Regi saw, and he quickly stripped away Pippin’s waistcoat and shirt to bare the rapidly paling skin. He tore the shirt to pieces, forming compresses with some of the fabric and tying these firmly in place with strips made from the sleeves. When he ran out of fabric he hurriedly doffed his own shirt and put it to work. Help ought to be coming soon...

 ‘Help is on the way,’ he told Pippin. ‘Hold on, Pip.’

 ‘Cannot... cannot hold...’ Pippin whispered.

Reginard fumed, where was everyone? ‘Help!’ he shouted. ‘We need a healer here!’

 ‘Did someone call for help?’ Tolly said vaguely from the doorway. He crawled into the room and collapsed, unmoving.

 ‘Now isn’t that just fine,’ Regi muttered. The escort was always there, in the way, when it was most inconvenient, but when you really wanted one of them... He tied the last compress in place, noting the red stain that began to show through almost immediately. ‘Hold tight, Pip,’ he said again. ‘I’m going to call for help.’

 ‘I thought you just did that,’ Pippin mumbled, moving his head fretfully.

Regi patted Pippin’s shoulder. His knees hurt as he straightened up. Looking down, he saw shards of broken glass between him and the window. He picked up his waistcoat and used it to sweep the glass aside as he moved cautiously to the window. Looking out, he saw bodies on the ground. Sleeping! At a time like this! Others were moving slowly about the yard in seemingly meaningless activity.

 ‘Hoy!’ the steward shouted. One or two looked up. ‘Hoy!’ he shouted again. ‘We need a healer!’

 ‘You and everyone else!’ Young Tom shouted back. He was bent over Meliloc Brandybuck, who’d just awakened and was asking what had happened. Durned if Young Tom knew what had happened, but they were in an awful mess, they were.

 ‘It’s the Thain!’ Reginard shouted back.

Young Tom looked again. Sure and it was the steward there in the high window, though Tom hadn’t recognised him at first, filthy, shirtless, smeared with blood. ‘Coming!’ he shouted. To Meliloc he said, ‘Here, hold this cloth against your head. You’re bleeding pretty bad, but heads often do, I find. You’re not bad hurt, I don’t think.’

 ‘Thanks,’ Meliloc said. ‘But the Thain...’

 ‘You let me worry about the Thain,’ Tom said, rising. He jogged over to the stables which of a wonder had withstood the shocks amazingly well. Still, there might be cracks in the beams and all. ‘Loose the ponies,’ he said to the dazed stable workers hovering near the entrance. ‘Put them in the field. Wouldn’t want the roof to come down on their heads should it decide to settle.’ He snagged a rope that had fallen from its hook and grabbed up an emergency bag that had hung next to it, full of necessities for doctoring an injured pony. It ought to suit hobbits just as well, he hoped.

He’d noticed no hobbits were coming out of the Great Smials and figured that the corridors were more than likely blocked. He grabbed at a young stable hobbit. ‘Tad!’ he said. ‘You climbed the outside of the Smials to win a wager, as I recall.’

 ‘The Thain fined me good and hard for it, too,’ Tad said. ‘He said if I was fool enough to take a dare again he’d see me discharged.’

 ‘He’s more like to kiss you this time,’ Tom said. ‘I want you to climb up to his study, that window, see?’ The steward had disappeared inside again, but Tom pointed to the proper window.

 ‘You jest,’ Tad said flatly. ‘I’d lifted one mug too many that other time. You really think I could climb that face?’

 ‘You’ve got to,’ Tom said. ‘I cannot get up there, nor anyone else, and the Thain needs help. I know you did it oncet, and if you take this rope up with you and fasten it to something solid I’ll be able to climb up after you.’

 ‘If you say so,’ Tad said slowly.

 ‘I do say so,’ Tom replied, pulling the stable lad after him. As they crossed the yard he peered at each hobbit they passed, but none was a healer. Healers were all inside the Smials and unable to get out, it seemed, or else in town, or away somewhere or other. Too bad none was in the yard when the shaking started.

He helped Tad fasten the rope to his belt, then the young hobbit spat on his hands, rubbed them together, and began to climb. Tom watched, his heart in his mouth as Tad moved slowly up the face of the cliff. The lad was able to pause at each level, resting when he’d come to a shattered window frame, catching his breath before going on. At last he reached one of the large windows of the Thain’s study and crawled inside.

Not long after, Tad appeared again and shouted, ‘Get back!’ Tom stepped back, wondering, but not for long. Tad had a sturdy stick in his hand, part of a shattered chair perhaps, and this he used to break the jagged glass from the bottom of the window frame before throwing the rope out. Tom waited as the rope snaked downward, slapping to a stop on the stones. ‘It’s tied to one of the desks!’ Tad shouted. ‘Oughter hold you!’

Tom nodded, made sure his bag was fastened securely, drew on his leather riding gloves, and began to shinny up the rope. Sturdy muscles from years of training ponies stood him in good stead now. Following Tad’s example, he rested at each level, but soon he was reaching for Tad’s outstretched hand and crawling in the study window.

***

Rose frowned at the unfamiliar faces bending over her. She was lying on softness; it must be her featherbed, for naught else was quite so soft and cosy, but sky was above her where there ought to be a curved whitewashed ceiling. And what were all these Tooks doing in her bedroom?

One of the sober faces put on a smile and said reassuringly, ‘There, now, Missus, you’re fine. We got to you before the fire did and pulled you out of there.’

Rose wrinkled her nose. That was what she was smelling: it was smoke! Was the damper closed? Why was there so much smoke in the bedroom? ‘Smoke,’ she said faintly.

 ‘We got you out,’ the Took repeated patiently. ‘The lass, too, not much the worse for wear.’

 Someone nearby was whimpering, someone else was moaning, and several were sobbing softly. There was a shifting in the faces surrounding Rose, and then she saw another of the Tooks, his arm around a dishevelled golden-haired lass. ‘See now, Miss Goldi?’ this one said. ‘She’s safe. Your mum is safe, she is.’

Goldilocks burst into sobs, burying her face in the broad chest. ‘O Mum!’ she cried. ‘O Mum!’ over and over again.

 ‘Goldi!’ Rose scolded, though her voice sounded strangely faint in her own ears. ‘What’s this nonsense? It’s not like you to carry on so.’

 ‘O Mum!’ Goldi cried again, lifting her face from the Took supporting her, falling upon Rose in a desperate embrace.

 ‘She saw the roof fall in and the flames go up,’ the first Took said softly. ‘She screamed so, it brought us running just in time to...’ He swallowed hard and looked away.

Memory came flooding back to Rose; she tried to sit up, calling, ‘Prim!’ but gentle hands pushed her back.

 ‘T’ lass is safe,’ the second Took said. ‘We got her out, same’s you, Missus. Don’t stir yourself. Healer’s coming.’

Primrose was sobbing nearby; Rose heard her say, ‘O it hurts! It hurts! O please...’ She heard young Bilbo speak soothing words though tears were in his own voice.

 ‘What’s happened to Prim?’ Rose whispered.

 ‘She’s burned, some,’ the first Took said, and at Rose’s gasp he added hurriedly, ‘The fire didn’t touch her, mind, it was the water from the tubs.’

Rose had been aware that her legs were burning as if they were afire, but the pain had been dull and somehow far away... but no longer. ‘My legs,’ she moaned.

Goldi sat up, dashing the tears from her eyes, and took Rose’s hand in hers. ‘Robin ran down the Hill, Mum,’ she said. ‘He’ll bring Aster Grubb, he said.’

 ‘I wish old Anise Grubb were still here,’ Rose said fretfully. ‘She had more of healing in her little finger than... Did all of Bag End fall in?’ she asked, looking past the faces to the sky.

 ‘No Missus,’ the first Took said, ‘we pulled the bedding out of the smial; Miss Goldi told us to.’

 ‘I was afraid the ceilings would come down,’ Goldi said. ‘All the outbuildings did: the chicken house, the woodshed, the washing shed...’ She couldn’t continue.

 ‘Bag End was built by Mr Bilbo’s father,’ Rose said stoutly. ‘It’s solid. I don’t believe anything could bring it down.’

 ‘Frodo and Day’s sitting room fell in,’ Goldi said quietly, ‘and parts of both of their bedroom ceilings as well. Good thing Day is visiting her parents in Bywater with the children.’

 ‘Frodo’s Daisy is safe; what of our own Daisy?’ Rose said, trying to sit up again. ‘And Ruby, and...?’

 ‘All are well,’ Goldi said firmly. ‘Robin pulled Ruby aside before the dish cupboard could fall upon her, and no one got more than cuts and bruises, save you and Prim. You got a few burns on your legs and feet, Mum, but they don’t look bad.’

She refrained from commenting about Frodo’s wife and children. They were in Bywater, for sure, and not in the fallen-in part of Bag End, but that didn’t mean they were safe. Smoke was rising from Hobbiton below, too much smoke, yet no Shirriff had ridden up the Hill blowing a muster. Presumably the residents of Hobbiton were already fighting the fires, even as the Tooks working in the Party Field had pulled her mother and sister from the ruins of the washing shed and put out the fire there. Smoke rose in the distance from the direction of Bywater as well.

Despite the growing heat of the day Goldi shivered. She desperately wished for the comfort of Faramir’s fingers curled through hers. She wondered how far the earth had shook. Had it gone all the way to Tuckborough?

Chapter 8. A Little Later in the Day 

Frodo Gardner stood up slowly, staring at the flattened garden shed. Had he lingered a moment more, he’d be under all that mess... He realised someone had been calling his name only when a hand touched his arm.

 ‘Frodo! Are you hurt?’

He shook off bewilderment and met Sancho Proudfoot’s eye. ‘I’m well, Mr Proudfoot,’ he said. ‘At least I think I am. What happened?’

 ‘I don’t know,’ Sancho said. ‘I’ve never seen nor heard of the like. Perhaps Bilbo’s dragon came to visit and fell over Bywater.’

 ‘Is your family well?’ Frodo said, turning from his contemplation of the garden shed to the ruin of Sancho’s smial.

 ‘Half the hole fell in,’ Sancho said ruefully, ‘but no one was injured. The kitchen was spared, thankfully, save the fact everything shook off the shelves and all the breakables broke. We were eating our elevenses at the time.’ He clapped the younger hobbit on the shoulder. ‘Run home now, Master Gardner, and see to your own!’

 ‘Yes sir, thank you sir,’ Frodo said, and grabbing up his bag of tools he ran from the garden on the outskirts of Bywater.

Bywater proper was a mix of ruin and normalcy. Oddly enough, many of the older dwellings were still intact, but quite a few of the homes built after the Troubles had succumbed to the shaking of the earth. The entire row where the Burrowses lived had been flattened, and hobbits were frantically digging with their bare hands, calling the names of loved ones.

Frodo threw down his bag of tools and grabbed up a shovel. It was difficult to tell where the Burrows’ hole had been until he recognised the bright primroses in the smashed pot, a pot he’d presented to his mother-in-love only the previous day.

 ‘Daisy!’ he shouted as he helplessly began to dig. How could anyone be alive under all that? He heard shouts down the way and smelled smoke. A group of hobbits formed a bucket brigade to try to douse the growing fire at the end of the row. ‘Daisy!’ Frodo shouted again. ‘Viola-Mum! Tansy! May!’ He was unaware of the tears running down his face as he shovelled away debris, continuing to call the names of Burrowses and Gardners.

Another shovel joined the fray, settling into the easy rhythm Frodo had enjoyed while working with his father-in-love when the two turned over the soil for a new garden. ‘Anything?’ Rus Burrows said as he worked. ‘Did you hear them?’

Frodo shook his head but his shovel never faltered. He’d move all of Middle-earth to get to his family. Rus was equally determined. There was a cry two doors down as a limp hobbit was unearthed. A husband cradled his wife, weeping and calling her name. Another hobbit stooped, saying sharply, ‘Don’t move her! She’s alive!’ and raised his voice to shout for a healer. Frodo and Rus continued at their task, determination fuelled by the hope that there might still be life after all under the rubble.

 ‘Frodo!’ The gardener dug faster; he’d heard his Daisy call his name. He had to get her out of there! ‘Frodo!’ And then Rus was throwing down his shovel, laughing through his tears, hugging his Viola as if he’d never let her go. Frodo turned, and there was Daisy, grass-stained, dishevelled, never so beautiful as at this moment, little Holfast in her arms and May and Rowan clinging to her skirts. Frodo dropped his shovel and embraced his family, beyond words in his relief. ‘We were picnicking,’ Daisy murmured in his ear. ‘It seemed a shame to take elevenses indoors on such a glorious day...’

 ‘Come lad,’ Rus said, swallowing his tears of joy. He’d reluctantly released his wife and daughters and picked up his shovel again. ‘There’s others not as fortunate.’

Frodo’s arms tightened on his wife and children and then he released them. ‘Take them up to Bag End,’ he said. ‘They ought to be safer there.’

 ‘Safer?’ Daisy said in wonder.

Frodo gestured to the fallen row, and the intact-seeming homes beyond. ‘The older homes, the ones dug into bedrock, stood the shake better,’ he said. ‘Bag End ought to be standing yet.’ He kissed her. ‘Go, love; I’ve digging to do.’

 ‘That’s right, Daisy-love, take the little ones up the Hill,’ Viola Burrows said briskly. ‘Your sisters and I will be working down here; there are plenty of injured!’ She gazed in despair at the ruin of their home. ‘All that baking!’ she said, ‘Buried in dust! If Bag End fared better, have them send food down the Hill. They’d have plenty made up already for the wedding breakfast.’ She sighed. ‘I know we did.’

 ‘Yes, Mum,’ Daisy said.

Viola addressed her youngest daughter. ‘Tansy! Help your sister get the little ones safely up Hill!’

 ‘Yes’m,’ Tansy said obediently, picking up little Rowan. ‘Come along!’ she said gaily to little May. ‘We’ve had our picnic with Grandma Vi and now we’re taking you home to Grandma Rose.’

***

Gimli eyed the landscape flying by, his face grim. The damage increased with every mile that flowed beneath the speeding hoofs of the elf-horse. His fingers itched to take up a shovel and join the hobbits they passed, digging in the rubble of a collapsed village. Legolas urged the horse to an even faster pace. Scraps of murmured elven-speech blew back to the dwarf, and he muttered a few prayers of his own.

***

 ‘We’ve got to get him to a healer,’ Tom said, pressing hard on the compress with its worrisome spreading stain. The Thain was ominously white and breathing rapidly as if he could not get enough air.

 ‘That’s what I said in the first place,’ Reginard answered from Tolly’s side. The escort had not spoken since crawling into the room, though he still breathed.

 ‘Tad,’ Tom said. ‘Slide down that rope and get help. See if you can find a healer and a crew of hobbits not afraid to climb up here. Here,’ he said, nodding to the gloves lying at his knee. ‘Use my gloves.’

 ‘Right,’ the young stable hobbit said. In the next moment he had stepped off into space and was sliding down the rope, blessing the leather gloves that sped him on his way.

Meliloc Brandybuck was on his feet, talking to hobbits holding saddled ponies. He’d struggled to his feet as the first ponies were led past him to be released into the great field to one side of the stables, calling to the stable hobbits to saddle them instead. He’d send riders in all directions once he had an idea of the extent of the trouble they were in. It didn’t take long to put together a distressing picture. The entrances to the Great Smials were blocked. The Great Door was jammed in place, the stone steps leading up to it cracked and treacherous. The corridors leading from lesser entrances were blocked by fallen rubble. Hobbits were getting in and out through the windows on the lower level, but with the corridors blocked they could not get very deep into the Smials.

He looked up at the windows to the Thain’s study. He’d seen no sight of anyone since Young Tom had disappeared inside, but now the shorter figure of the stable lad emerged and slid quickly down the rope.

***

Merry’s shirtsleeves were rolled up as he joined the hobbits labouring in Bucklebury. He’d sent riders to all parts of Buckland and the Marish. Hobbits were likely to think this an isolated event and begin setting their homes in order again without venturing past their own gates, unless they were close enough to see damage to the neighbouring dwellings. ‘Hobbits first, supplies second, then the clearing up!’ was the word that went with the messengers. If your own family is safe, count your blessings... then go to the aid of your neighbours, and then the neighbours’ neighbours.

A rider returned with the welcome news that the Bridge had survived the disaster with only minor damage. Another returned with word that Stock was harder-hit than Bucklebury; two hours later yet another returned to report that the damage grew ever-worse as he’d travelled to the West. ‘The Yale’s still standing, but damaged,’ he said soberly, ‘and there’s a piece of the Road that’s broken in half-like, one side raised up as high as a waggon wheel.’

The news was disquieting. The damage was worse to the West. Not for the first time, Merry found himself wondering how Pippin had fared, and Sam. Thankfully there had been no deaths in Bucklebury as of yet, and only bruises, lacerations, and broken bones to deal with. No one had been crushed under a fallen-in roof or collapsing wall though there had been a few close calls. How bad were things in Tuckborough and Hobbiton?

***

Healer Mardibold wakened slowly, wondering where he was and why he was lying down. ‘Don’t move, sir,’ Evergreen Took said softly at his side. ‘I don’t know if you’ve broken anything.’

 ‘Don’t worry,’ Mardi told the young apprentice healer. ‘I’ll know.’ He cautiously moved his arms, then his legs. ‘Everything seems to be in working order. Help me up.’

Evergreen protested, but did as she was told. Mardi, after all, was senior healer in all the Great Smials. To her relief, he seemed none the worse for having tumbled about the dispensary, pelted by jars and other items, ending on the floor surrounded by smashed glass and other debris. Together they looked ruefully about the room, which had held the greater part of the healing herbs, tinctures and decoctions for the hobbits of the Great Smials, and Tuckborough beyond. Mardi shook his head. ‘See what you can salvage,’ he said. He took up an emergency bag that had hung by the door before it shook loose and picked his way out of the room.

The infirmary was located on the outermost face of the Smials, on the lowest level. The invalids and elderly Tooks had been moved to inner rooms deep in the Great Smials during the time of the Troubles, but once the ruffians had been thrown out of the Shire most of the residents had returned to the sun-soaked rooms. It was a mixed blessing now. The windows had shattered in the quake and not a few hobbits had been showered with glass as the earth shook. The assistants had busied themselves dealing with the resulting gashes until shouts from outside had pulled their attention outwards. The healer on watch and half the assistants had gone out into the yard, then, to begin to deal with the serious injuries there. Not all of the hobbits thrown through windows on the higher levels had survived, but those who had were desperately in need of attention.

Mardi wondered how Ferdibrand had fared, deep in the Great Smials. There was no way to find out at the moment. The inner Smials were sealed off from the outside world, corridors fallen in. Rescuers had begun to dig in the corridor just outside the infirmary, but when two were buried as the sides of the makeshift tunnel collapsed, the others dug these out and reluctantly stopped their work until the engineers could be summoned from the diggings at Tookbank.

***

Though the earth shake had been like nothing Everard had ever imagined, the damage in Tookbank was surprisingly light. The Thain’s chief engineer blessed the hardness of Tookbank rock. The worst injuries came from flying dishes or toppling wardrobes, and since few hobbits were in a bedroom this time of day such injuries were few. A farmer was trapped beneath a large beam in his barn, but one end of the beam was caught up on something and so the farmer had not been crushed. Extricating him was a tricky matter. They didn’t want the beam to settle, and they didn’t want to bring the rest of the roof down on rescuers and farmer together... Everard, however, could see his way clear and was directing the diggers in their careful work.

He was actually whistling cheerfully when Lem called behind him, ‘Rider! Coming fast!’

 ‘Too soon for Dinny to be returning,’ Seth said from Everard’s side.

 ‘Unless he met a rider from the Smials and turned back with news,’ Everard said.

 ‘It’s not Dinny,’ Seth said. He had the keenest eyes of all the engineers.

 ‘Is Dinny with him?’ Everard asked, peering into the distance.

 ‘No,’ Seth said. ‘Looks as if he must’ve met this rider and continued on to the Smials.’

 ‘Likely not from the Smials, then,’ Everard said, dismissing the rider with a shrug. ‘Probably came from one of the farms in between.’ He turned back to the task at hand. Within a few moments they were able to pull the farmer from under the beam. Even better, the farmer was able to stand and shake hands with the engineers.

The rider rode into the middle of the yard, pulling his dancing foam-flecked pony to a stop. ‘Ev’ard!’ he shouted, seeing the group of engineers. ‘Bad trouble! You’ve got to come!’

Everard’s blood went cold. ‘The New Smials,’ he snapped, striding forward. ‘Did they fall in, Hully?’

 ‘They’re damaged, but it’s the Great Smials,’ Huldigard Took panted.

 ‘The Thain!’ Everard said in shock.

 ‘They'll get him out,’ Hully said, ‘They'll probably lower him from the study window, last I heard before I was sent off. He wasn't buried... but there’s plenty more a-trapped inside. We hope they’re still living, but we’re afraid to dig.’

 ‘Dinny...?’ Everard said.

 ‘He ought to be at the Smials by now,’ Hully said. ‘He was more than halfway there when I met him and sped him along with the news.’

 ‘Have you heard news of other parts?’ Everard said.

 ‘Bywater’s hard hit, but not as bad as Tuckborough,’ Hully said. He was getting his breath. ‘Ev’ard, you’ve got to get to the Smials. The Thain’s entire family is missing!’

 ‘Along with quite a few others, I warrant,’ Everard muttered.

 ‘Take my Firefoot,’ the farmer said. ‘He took fifth place overall in the pony races last year.’

The farmer’s oldest son said, ‘I’ll saddle him!’ and ran to accomplish the task.

 ‘You ride ahead,’ Seth said. ‘We’ll follow.’

Chapter 9. Just in Time for Tea

Meliloc Brandybuck fought off light-headedness as he crossed the yard to meet Tad. At least his head had stopped bleeding and he no longer had to press a cloth against the aching spot. ‘What’s the situation up there?’ he asked.

 ‘The Steward’s not bad hurt,’ the lad said. ‘The Thain’s eyes were open, last I looked, but he’s bleeding bad. Tolly’s worst off, I think. He’s not moved at all, not since I went up. Young Tom said to get help.’

Meliloc measured the wall with his eye and suppressed a mental shudder. He wouldn’t want to be the one to make the climb. “Took”, however, was a byword for courage, though foolhardy might be a better description. Funny how the Tooks had the same distrust of water that the Brandybucks had of heights. ‘There’s no other way into the study,’ he said, more statement than question. 

Tad shook his head. ‘The corridor’s all fallen-in, like, and Tom says the only way out is through the window.’

 ‘You’ll need more rope, and more help,’ Meliloc decided. He gestured to the nearest healer, just standing to his feet as the hobbit he had tended was carried away on a litter. ‘Siggy, can you climb a rope?’

 ‘It wouldn’t be my favourite pastime,’ the healer said, glancing up the wall, ‘but I can if I have to.’

 ‘We have to get Thain Peregrin and Tolibold down somehow,’ Meliloc said. ‘Reginard as well, it might be, for I don’t know if he was hurt or not. D’you have any ideas?’

 ‘I’ll have to take a look,’ Sigimand said. ‘Send me half a dozen helpers, will you?’

 ‘I’ll try,’ Meliloc said. As the healer slung his emergency bag over his back and began to climb the rope, Meliloc scanned the yard, shouting to each able-bodied Took he saw. He sent each one up the rope, and then for some reason his legs would no longer hold him and he had to sit down with his back to the wall. He made sure he was a little way from the rope so that he would not be in the way of anyone descending, but could still keep an eye on the situation.

***

‘Ruby! Can you hear me!’ Diamond called, leaning over the pit that had opened in the earth to swallow her oldest daughter, and her youngest. She could hear little Lassie crying below. ‘Ruby!’

 ‘Ruby please wake up!’ Lassie was pleading. ‘Wake up!’

 ‘No one is hurt,’ Rosamunda, Regi’s wife reported from behind her.

Diamond sighed in relief. Now all she had to worry about was the two below... all! ‘Ruby!’ she called sharply. She thought she saw movement below.

 ‘Mum?’ Forget-me-not’s voice came up to her, sounding hazy. ‘Mother? What happened?’

 ‘You fell,’ Diamond said succinctly. ‘Are any bones broken? Can you move?’ Her heart leapt as she saw the tween sit up. Little Lazuli climbed into her sister’s lap and Diamond heard Forget-me-not soothing the little one’s fear.

 ‘Lassie, it’s going to be all right,’ Diamond called down. ‘Ruby will take good care until we get you both out of there!’

Lapis whimpered for her twin and her Auntie Pimpernel soothed her, Nell’s own daughters huddled about her. Nell’s eldest, Mignonette said, ‘Should I run back to the Smials for help?’

 ‘No!’ Nell and Rosa said in the same breath. ‘We need to stay together,’ Nell added. ‘Don’t run off, love, not alone, not when pits are opening in the earth without warning like this one did.’

Coreopsis, Nell’s middle daughter, was almost in tears. ‘How are we going to get them out?’ she said.

Her mother squeezed her hand. ‘We could use a rope,’ she said ruefully. ‘Perhaps my brother ought to make them required on all picnics from now on.’

 ‘He’s quite fond of rope,’ Diamond said. ‘Ever since they travelled through Moria, you know.’ She furrowed her brow and said suddenly, ‘Petticoats!’

 ‘What?’ Rosa said sharply.

 ‘Take off your petticoats, everyone!’ Diamond said. ‘We’ll make our own rope, tie them together.’

 ‘Will it be enough?’ Mignonette said.

 ‘It has to be,’ Diamond replied. Scooting backwards from the edge she stood and shucked her own undergarment. The others followed suit and soon they were knotting the petticoats firmly together.

What with three hobbit mums and all their daughters, there was more than enough material to work with. Soon Diamond was lowering the makeshift rope. ‘I’m not sure how sturdy this is,’ she called down. ‘Tie the end around Lassie and we’ll pull her up first.’

 ‘No!’ Lazuli shrieked. It took Forget-me-not precious moments to soothe her sister sufficiently to loop the “rope” around her and tie it securely. All the while Diamond fretted under an increasing worry. What if the earth shook again and the pit opened wider, or worse, closed in upon her loved ones?

***

Reaching Waymoot, Leotred slowed the coach. The Great East-West Road passed right through the middle of the town. The damage was greater here than in any of the farmsteads or clusters of dwellings they’d passed since the shake. Hobbits were everywhere, digging in the rubble or tending the injured. Though Leot itched to jump down, roll up his sleeves, and help, he had a bad feeling about what they’d find in Bywater... and Hobbiton. The further East they’d travelled, the worse the damage had been. Near the centre of town he had to pull the ponies to a stop.

Fasttred stuck his head out of the window. ‘Why have we stopped?’ he asked.

 ‘Road’s blocked,’ Leot said.

 ‘Ah,’ Fastred said, jumping out and at a nudge from Leot, Elfstan climbed down off the box to join his father. They ran ahead and started moving rocks and bricks and larger pieces of masonry out of the Road.

 ‘We could use some help here,’ one of the hobbits of Waymoot said.

 ‘Sorry, we’re trying to reach the Mayor in Hobbiton,’ Leot said. ‘From what we’ve seen along the way, Bywater was hit even harder than you were.’

 ‘Harder!’ the hobbit said staring. ‘I find it hard to believe!’ Still, he joined Fastred and Elfstan and even called a few others over to help move the debris out of the way. When the way was clear, Leot touched his whip hand to his forehead in salute. ‘Our thanks,’ he said to the sweating hobbits.

 ‘Welcome,’ they answered, and one said, ‘Safe journey.’ Leot nodded and clucked to the ponies.

Fastred and Elfstan continued to walk ahead of the coach, moving debris as necessary. As they reached the outskirts of Waymoot, Leot pulled the ponies to a stop once more. ‘Do you want me to drive awhile?’ Fastred said.

 ‘I could use a bite to eat,’ Leot admitted.

Fastred climbed up and took the reins, but when Elfstan would have joined him he said, ‘No, son, you eat and rest. I’m sure I’ll need your help when we reach Bywater. We’ve some hours to go, yet. We’ll arrive some time after teatime, I’d guess.’

 ‘Yes sir,’ Elfstan said reluctantly and entered the coach. Elanor pulled sandwiches out of one of the baskets, along with an earthenware jug of cool sweet ginger tea, refreshing in the unusual heat they were having lately. They ate without the usual jollity, for all were wondering what awaited them at journey’s end.

***

 ‘How are you, Sir?’ Siggy said, kneeling beside the Thain, taking up a wrist to try to count the rapid heartbeats. He kept his face bland, his tone cheerful, though he was seriously alarmed at Tolly’s condition, not to mention Pippin’s.

Pippin ignored the question. ‘Is Diamond safe?’ he said faintly. ‘What of the children?’

 ‘First things first,’ Siggy said. ‘We have to get you out of here somehow.’ He half-turned, saying to the other Tooks in the room, ‘Take the door off its hinges. We can use it to lower them, one by one.’ He took out a water bottle and urged the Thain to drink.

Before long they laid the door down beside Tolly and gently eased him onto it. ‘Bind him securely,’ Siggy said. They used one of the ropes to make sure the escort would not slide off the surface as he was being lowered, then came the tricky business of easing him down the face of the cliff. At last one of the Tooks at the window, passing one of the ropes over his shoulder, sighed in relief and said, ‘There. He’s down.’

Pippin had been watching and listening tensely, now he closed his eyes. ‘Good,’ he said.

 ‘We’ll have you out of here in three shakes,’ Siggy said, but the Thain shook his head.

 ‘Regi first,’ he whispered.

 ‘Not on your life,’ the steward answered. ‘They’re taking you down first, and there’s naught you can do about it!’

 ‘I...’ Pippin began, but then the floor quivered beneath them and all the hobbits in the study froze. Siggy threw himself over the Thain, shielding him with his own body as more of the ceiling came down.

***

The elf-horse had breezed through Tookbank like a wisp of fast-blowing cloud and into the high Green Hills of Tookland. The track between Tookbank and Tuckborough had been wiped away in two places where the hillsides had crumbled away, sliding down into the valley, damming the merry stream that had danced through the lowlands. A long lake was already forming.

The sure-footed horse picked his way across the slides and broke again into the effortless gallop on the path beyond. Though he had run far and fast, he was not even breathing hard, though his flanks were dark with sweat. Legolas leaned forward, urging the horse in continuing effort, and Gimli clung like a bearded cloak to his back.

Coming along the last great hill, Legolas sat up in dismay at the sight of the Great Smials, and the horse slowed in response. Gimli tightened his grip, saying gruffly, ‘What is it? What do you see?’

Legolas shifted his weight and the horse turned aside, giving the Dwarf a clear view. Gimli swore in his own tongue, adding, ‘If this isn’t the centre of the shaking then I shudder to think what is.’

Legolas spoke to the horse and they moved forward again. Hobbits were lowering something from an upper window, Gimli saw. Legolas with his far-seeing eyes knew that it was Pippin. He leaned forward again and the elf-horse broke into a gallop to cover the last of the distance. They reached the yard just as the Thain was lowered to the stones.

Legolas slipped from the horse and ran lightly to the group of hobbits. ‘Pippin,’ he said, but his young friend’s eyes were closed.

 ‘Legolas,’ Meliloc said, pushing against the wall to regain his feet. ‘We were expecting you, but I’d quite forgotten... forgive our poor hospitality. I’m afraid we have no rest to offer you.’

Gimli came up then, to steady the Brandybuck. ‘How can we help?’ he said urgently.

Meliloc swayed in the Dwarf’s grasp. ‘You’d know better; you know more of digging than I do.’

A stable lad had run shouting into the Smials and now Everard emerged through a shattered window. ‘Gimli!’ he cried. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes. We’ve many missing inside.’

 ‘How much has come down?’ Gimli asked gruffly. Everard unrolled the plans clutched in his hand and the two bent over them, talking in low tones.

Legolas knelt at the side of the Thain as the rescuers unwound the rope binding him to the door. ‘Pippin,’ he said softly. He placed a gentle hand on Pippin’s forehead, listening hard to more than ears could hear, and took up one of Pippin’s hands.

 ‘And we had another shake, a little one,’ Everard was saying. ‘We had to dig out some of the rescuers then.’

 ‘I thought the Thain’s study would come down upon us all,’ put in Healer Sigimand, who’d slid down the rope once Pippin was safely on the ground. ‘Thankfully it didn’t.’ He was covered with dust from the crumbling ceiling, and bruised from larger chunks that had rained down upon him, but thankfully no more than that.

 ‘Where’s Diamond?’ Legolas said, raising his eyes from Pippin’s face. The hobbits fell silent, but the Elf did not miss the glances that passed between them. ‘Is she in the Smials?’ he asked, his hand tightening on Pippin’s.

 ‘We think not,’ Meliloc said. ‘The last I saw, the Thain’s wife and daughters were off on a picnic, but they haven’t been seen. They ought not to be far from here, but they’ve not returned and we could spare none to make a search, not knowing just where they were bound.’

At that moment Pippin sat bolt upright, thrusting aside the Wood Elf’s hand, shouting, ‘Farry, no! Faramir!’ His eyes were wide and he grasped at the air in front of him before falling back into the supporting arms of those on either side of him.

 ‘Pippin?’ Legolas said softly.

 ‘Gone,’ Pippin whispered, shaking his head feebly without opening his eyes again. ‘Gone.’

Chapter 10. Journey into Darkness

The Ferry was back in operation, though the landing had been washed away on the Marish side of the River. Only necessary crossings were made, mostly for the riders sent out by the Master of Buckland, either going out to assess damage or returning with news. Merimas Brandybuck was down at the Ferry landing on the Buckland side when he heard a horn call from the other side. Shading his eyes from the westering Sun, he saw the flag go up a moment later.

 ‘Pony post,’ he said to one of the hobbits working to repair damage to the eastern landing. ‘Go tell the Master, Dab.’

Despite the heat, Dab jogged up the bank to the pavilions set up before the Hall. Master Merry had set up his study in one of these. Maps were spread out over the tables on one side, plans of Brandy Hall on the other. Merry was bent over one of these with Doderic, his chief engineer.

 ‘Pony post!’ Dab gasped.

 ‘Pony post!’ Merry said. ‘From the Great Smials? They couldn’t have had our message already.’

 ‘Are you sure it’s not one of our own messengers returning?’ Doderic said, straightening and rubbing at crick in his back.

 ‘Pony post, Merimas said, and I saw the flag myself,’ Dab insisted. ‘He was sending the Ferry over even as I left the bank.’

 ‘I had better go and see,’ Merry said. ‘Carry on here, Dod, and I’ll let you know what the news is as soon as I have it.’

He and Dab walked down to the bank, for there was no point in running. The Ferry had only reached the far side. The pony post rider waded into the River, took hold of the reaching hands of the Ferry hobbits and was hauled aboard. The Ferry began the long haul back. Merry was waiting at the bank for some time before the Ferry reached the Bucklebury landing.

 ‘What news from the Great Smials?’ he called when the Ferry was still some yards away.

 ‘At least a dozen dead, and dozens more missing!’ the post rider shouted back.

Merry reeled. It struck him for the first time that the shake might have been worse elsewhere. ‘What of the Thain?’ he shouted.

Merimas touched his arm and he shook his cousin off impatiently. ‘Bad news will keep,’ Merimas muttered. ‘Let’s not go shouting it all over the countryside until we have the facts, shall we?’

Merry knew his cousin was speaking sense, but that did not make the waiting easier. As the Ferry docked he thrust out his hand to the post rider. Even before the Ferry kissed the landing the rider took the hand and leaped the narrowing gap of sparkling water, his Tookish distrust of the River overcome by the enormity of the news he bore.

As they walked up the slope to the pavilions the rider rapidly spilled his news. ‘...and the Thain’s badly injured, they hadn’t got him out of his study yet when I’d left, and all his family among the missing,’ he finished. He stopped, looking at Brandy Hall, and whistled. ‘You had it here as well,’ he said. ‘Not as bad, though. Part of the face of the Smials fell in, and Tuckborough’s in ruins.’

Doderic had come out of the pavilion in time to catch the end of the news. ‘They’ve good engineers at the Smials,’ he said, ‘but are they among the missing?’

 ‘They were excavating at Tookbank when the shake happened,’ the messenger said. ‘One arrived at the Smials just as I was starting out. He said none was hurt, and more would be on the way from Tookbank soon.’

 ‘Good,’ Doderic said firmly. ‘I can stay here, then, and oversee what needs to be done in Buckland. You go to the Smials, Merry. You’re needed more there than here, from the sound of it.’

 ‘I’m coming too,’ Estella said behind them. Her dress was torn and dirty and her cheeks streaked with soot and sweat; her hands were grimy and she had never looked more beautiful to her husband. ‘We’ve finished setting up the temporary kitchens and there’ll be food soon,’ she added. ‘Just give me a moment to change. Have them put a regular saddle on my pony, Merry. I suspect this is no time to be riding side-saddle.’

 ‘There are many trees down across the Road, Mistress,’ the rider said. ‘Woody End is a nightmare to travel through.’

 ‘It is a good thing my pony enjoys jumping as much as I do, then,’ Estella said lightly, and picking up her skirts she hurried away.

***

The ponies were not keen to step off the Ferry into the River. Merry jumped down first, half-swimming as he extended a hand to Estella. She gasped at the coldness of the water, saying immediately for her husband’s benefit, ‘Ah! So refreshing in this heat!’

Merry squeezed her hand with a nod and then pushed her towards shore. The hobbits on the bank helped her out of the water. ‘Ready?’ one of the Ferry hobbits called. ‘Better get ashore, sir, you won’t want to be in the ponies’ way!’

Merry slogged through the water and scrambled up the bank, wondering. He did not have to wait long. There were two loud cracks as the Ferry hobbit brought a riding crop down hard on the rump of one pony, then the other. The startled beasts plunged and skidded off the Ferry and into the water, immediately making for the bank. Merry managed to catch one as it surged out of the water; another hobbit waiting on the bank caught the other. ‘Hoy!’ Merry cried angrily. ‘There was no call for that!’

 ‘Only way to get them off the Ferry,’ the Ferry hobbit called back apologetically. ‘Ponies have much too much sense to jump off into the water on their own account.’

Merry nodded, not quite satisfied, but the deed was done. ‘How long before you have the landing rebuilt?’ he asked the forehobbit in charge of the work crew.

 ‘At least a day,’ the forehobbit replied. ‘We’ve had a lot of practice, what with the seasonal floods and all, but then we thought we’d built it so sturdy the last time that no flood would ever wash it away again. We weren’t counting on the River coming from the other direction, you know.’

 ‘I know,’ Merry said with a slap on his back. ‘Good hobbit, just make it as quick as you can, and add more bracing to it after.’

 ‘Yessir, good journey, sir,’ the foreman answered. Merry looked up.

Estella was already astride her pony. ‘Coming, beloved?’ she said.

 ‘I’m right behind you,’ Merry answered, mounting his own pony. It struck him that he’d so often spoken those words to Pippin... and now...

Estella had been watching his face. ‘It’s after teatime,’ she said softly.

Merry swallowed hard. ‘No worries,’ he lied.

 ‘Of course not,’ Estella said. ‘Let us go and see the worst for ourselves.’

***

Travelling through the Woody End, they jumped their ponies over quite a few trees that lay across the Road. ‘It’ll be quite awhile before waggons ply this road again,’ Merry observed.

 ‘Perhaps,’ Estella answered, pointing ahead. ‘Look!’

Sweating hobbits were sawing at the bole of a great tree that blocked their way. Merry recognised several Bolgers among them. ‘Hally!’ he called. ‘Buckthorn!’

 ‘Master Merry!’ Hally Bolger said, releasing the saw to take out his pocket-handkerchief. He wiped away the sweat that threatened to trickle into his eyes. ‘How fares Brandy Hall?’

 ‘Rather better than some places, I’ve heard,’ Merry answered. ‘Are the Bolgers all safe?’

 ‘All who are here in the Woody End,’ Hally said. ‘Gundy and I had a close call, but that’s all.’ He took a pull from the water bottle at his belt. ‘Haven’t had word of my Robin, over to the Great Smials, though. Have you had any messages from the Thain?’

 ‘You had better come along if you can,’ Merry said, and Hally stiffened. There was no good way to break the news. ‘Half the Smials has fallen in, from the report I’ve had. I’ve no word if Robin is among the missing or the dead, or if he’s well and alive and digging to reach the others who are trapped.’

 ‘He’ll be digging, if he’s able,’ Hally said. ‘I’ll just keep thinking good thoughts about him until I hear otherwise.’ He turned to Buckthorn. ‘Run home, tell your mother I’m off to the Smials,’ he said, then put a hand on his son’s arm to stay him. ‘Any word of Ferdi?’ he said, naming his wife’s brother, chancellor to the Thain.

 ‘He’s among the missing, I was told,’ Merry answered.

 ‘Ah,’ Hally said. ‘Well, with everyone well here, I’d imagine Rosemary will want to go to the Smials. Of course, they’ve more than one healer there already...’

 ‘I have the feeling more will be welcome,’ Merry said.

 ‘Very well,’ Hally said. ‘A moment.’ He turned to Buckthorn again. ‘Kiss your wife, tell her what’s what, help your mother to pack up all the two of you can carry, bandages and herbs and such, and come along as quick as you can. Parsley...’ their oldest girl, visiting with her husband and little ones, ‘Parsley can mind everything until we return.’

***

It was well past sunset as they reached the Crowing Cockerel—or what was left of it. The home of the best beer on the Stock Road was gone, a pile of rubble. Hobbits with torches were picking through the debris.

 ‘This is the worst we’ve seen yet,’ Merry muttered to Estella.

The innkeeper jogged wearily over to them, carrying a lantern. ‘Master Meriadoc?’ he said, holding the lantern higher. ‘Sorry, sir, no rooms at the inn. We’re full up, we are.’

 ‘I can see that,’ Merry said. ‘Anybody missing?’

 ‘We’ve accounted for everybody,’ the innkeeper said. ‘Weren’t many here at elevenses. Inn doesn’t open until noontide, you know.’
 ‘Ah,’ Merry said. ‘Did you lose anyone?’

 ‘I’m that thankful,’ the innkeeper returned. ‘Stew was simmering nicely, bread was baking, tables were set for noontide guests, and we all took ourselves out into the courtyard for elevenses to enjoy the sunshine and the cool breeze. Nobody was inside when it all came down, can you imagine?’ He shook his head. ‘Such a mercy,’ he muttered. ‘Such a mercy.’ He’d been saying the words over again for hours, in wonder. All he’d lost was his home, his business, and those could be rebuilt. Those nearest his heart, his family and his workers, were all safe. ‘Such a mercy,’ he said again, then looking up added, ‘But if you wish to camp in the clearing, you’re welcome.’

 ‘We’ll be riding on,’ Merry said. ‘We’re on our way to the Great Smials.’

 ‘Messenger said they were hard hit,’ the innkeeper said. ‘Hope he was wrong.’

 ‘You’re not the only one,’ Merry said, and with a few parting words the little group moved on.

Chapter 11. And What About...? 

Samwise arrived at Bag End two hours after the first shake. He’d been on his way back from the Great Smials, finalising the wedding arrangements, when his pony snorted and reared. He’d felt the beast lose its balance then, and had instinctively thrown himself clear as the pony went over. He thought the fall must have knocked him into a dream, for the earth shook beneath him and for a terrible moment he was back in Mordor, feeling the ground shudder in response to the Mountain’s fury, reaching in vain for his master’s hand until the shaking should subside and they might creep forward once again.

But no, the air was fresh and living, and there was grass beneath him; he opened his eyes to see that the unsteady world was green, not like Mordor at all. He clenched his fists in the grass, wondering, and remained lying there for a time after the earth once more regained its solidity. The pony lay nearby, quivering in fear. Sam crawled to her side. ‘Steady lass,’ he said, stroking the soft neck. ‘Let us see what’s amiss.’

He ran gentle hands down each leg, then moved back to her head and took her by the bridle. ‘Can you get up?’ he said with an encouraging tug. She raised her head, rolled to her belly, and looked white-eyed about, ears laid flat, nostrils flaring. ‘Come lass,’ Sam said, and the pony stood up at last, though she trembled all over and refused to stir foot. The ground was steady now, she seemed to say, and she wasn’t going to spoil it by moving.

Sam walked a little ahead of her, clucking to her, and she took a step, freezing again. ‘See?’ Sam said. Greatly daring, he stomped a foot. ‘Solid!’ he maintained. ‘Come along.’ With much coaxing and a carrot or two from his pocket, he led the pony alongside the New Road for quite a ways before she was calm enough for him to mount and ride along. All the while he was worrying. How far had the shake gone? What about his family?

His fear increased as he passed each farmstead with collapsed outbuildings and damaged dwellings, hobbits too busy to notice a traveller passing by. Seeing smoke rising above Bywater, he squeezed his legs and the pony moved into a trot. She was starting to forget her fear, or else the memory of stable and home and a good feed was stronger than the inexplicable shaking that had so frightened her earlier.

Coming into Bywater his worst fears were realised. He saw the flattened row wherein the Burrows family had resided and recalled his daughter-in-love and grands were to have been visiting this day. He could see the signs left by frantic digging and swung down from his pony for a closer look.

 ‘All’s out,’ a gaffer said from across the way. ‘Some were still among the living.’

 ‘Who?’ Sam demanded.

The gaffer could only shake his head. ‘Dunno,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t here; I only heard a little while ago.’ He shouldered the basket he carried and touched his hat. ‘Good day to you,’ he said, as if it were any other day, and trudged along the road.

Heart in his mouth, Sam mounted the pony again and trotted briskly toward Hobbiton. He saw more smoke rising there, but as he rode through the town he saw that the smoke rose from fires already quenched. Hobbits were digging here, too, looking more for supplies now than people. The hobbits he passed were also treating the injuries of those pulled alive from the rubble, stirring up soup of rescued food in rescued pots, and setting up makeshift shelters in anticipation of nightfall, still some hours off.

Someone recognised the Mayor and set up a cheer for his safe return.

***

 ‘Samwise,’ Rose muttered, ‘O Sam where are you?’

 ‘He’ll come, Mama,’ Goldi said, wringing out a cloth in cool water and placing it on her mother’s forehead. ‘He’s on his way.’ She only hoped she spoke the truth. The injured had been moved to the shade of the trees in the old orchard, where a spring still bubbled from the side of the Hill. Its cold fresh water was a blessing to injured and caretakers and passers-by.

Aster Grubb had dressed the burns, some blistered, told Goldi and Ruby to keep Rose and Prim drinking as much as possible, and gone on to treat other injuries in the vicinity before moving on to Overhill. She’d check on them, she said, on her way back to Hobbiton.

The wind blew the wisps of a cheer from Hobbiton. Robin was by the chicken pen on the outskirts of the orchard, butchering the chickens who’d been killed by falling debris. He lifted his head and said, ‘There’s a hopeful sign.’

 ‘Perhaps the Thain has sent help,’ Tolman ventured. He was gathering wood from the collapsed chicken house, separating it into piles. Some was salvageable and could be reused to rebuild, but most was suitable only for kindling.

 ‘Too soon,’ Bilbo said. He was repairing the wire fence. Soon they'd round up the surviving chickens and pen them up again. ‘It takes more than two hours to ride from Tuckborough.’

 ‘Has it been only two hours?’ Ruby murmured, attending the conversation, for she was tending Rose and Prim not far from where the boys were working. ‘Come, Prim, you’ve got to drink more. Mrs Grubb said you had to finish the entire waterskin before she returns.’

 ‘Dad!’ Tolman shouted, dropping the wood he held and running towards Bagshot Row. ‘Dad!’

Sam pulled the pony to a stop and jumped down to hug his youngest. ‘Tom,’ he said into Tolman’s dusty curls. He gave a glad cry as Frodo’s Daisy emerged from Bag End. ‘Day! O Day-daughter, when I saw your family’s smial I feared the worst.’

 ‘We were picnicking,’ Day said. ‘No one was hurt.’ She hesitated, ‘but Rose-Mum...’ Sam’s face paled. ‘In the orchard,’ she added, and Sam was gone, Tolman trotting after him.

 ‘Dad!’ Goldi said, seeing him come. All would be well now.

***

The Tooks labouring in the Party Field had finished putting up the open-air kitchen, and now good smells wafted through the air. Residents of Bagshot Row were fed, and hobbits of Hobbiton came up the Hill in a steady trickle as the word spread. With so many guests expected for the wedding breakfast the day after the morrow, there was plenty of food available now for all.

Not long after the Mayor embraced his wife and then his children, a rider forced his lathered pony up the Hill at a precipitous pace. He’d been told in Hobbiton that the Mayor had been through and had gone up to Bag End. He rode down the Row, shouting for Samwise.

Pippin Gamgee came out of Bag End where he’d been clearing away debris. ‘I need the Mayor!’ the rider said breathlessly. ‘D’you know where I’m to find him?’

 ‘The orchard,’ Pippin said, pointing the way, and without taking time for thanks the rider kicked his weary beast into a trot.

 ‘Rude sort, very Tookish of him,’ he said to his brother Merry who’d come out behind him.

 ‘He was a Took,’ Merry said, staring after the pony. ‘I have a bad feeling, Pip.’ They started for the orchard.

The Took pulled his pony to a stop at the edge, throwing his pony’s reins over the nearest branch. Seeing Samwise sitting beside Rose he ran forward, falling to his knees before them. ‘The Thain,’ he gasped, ‘The Smials, it’s all come down.’

 ‘The Thain sent you?’ Sam said. He squeezed Rose’s hand and got to his feet.

 ‘No, Thain Peregrin’s injured. He’s in his study and they’re still trying to figure out how to get him out with half the Smials fallen in,’ the rider said. ‘A dozen dead, so far, when I left, and dozens missing, including the Thain’s family.’

 ‘Farry!’ Goldi gasped, half rising.

The messenger belatedly saw her. ‘Miss Goldi,’ he said awkwardly. ‘He’s not dead, not that we know of at least...’

 ‘We’ll go,’ Sam said to Goldi, and then he spoke to her older brothers who had come up behind the rider and were standing aghast at the news. ‘Saddle ponies,’ he said. ‘Goldi and I will ride to the Smials.’

 ‘We’ll come too,’ Merry Gamgee said grimly.

 ‘You ought to stay,’ Sam began, but Pip broke in.

 ‘Dad, it’s Faramir!’

Sam started to shake his head, then found himself nodding. The three, Merry-lad, Farry and Pip had been thick as sultanas in Rose’s rice pudding since the first time he’d brought his family to the Great Smials after he became Mayor. Truth be told, there were no more trapped hobbits in the vicinity needing digging out. They’d be of better use at the Great Smials. Hobbits first, then supplies, then clearing away the debris, that was the proper order of business.

 ‘Get a lantern ready for each of us,’ he said, ‘and make sure they’re brim-full of oil. It’ll be dark soon after we reach the Smials.’

 ‘Thank you, sir!’ the messenger gasped. ‘I’ve got to tell the Tooks at the Party Field,’ he added, and with the briefest of farewells he ran back to his pony, pulled the reins loose, jumped on its back and jerked the poor beast’s head around, thumping its sides with his heels.

 ‘He’ll kill that pony, riding so,’ Merry said disapprovingly.

 ‘Somehow I don’t think he’s worried about the pony,’ Pip replied.

***
 
 Ferdibrand wakened slowly, at first not sure where he was. He was lying on something hard, so perhaps he was camping, on a journey? He opened his eyes, but instead of stars above there was only darkness. Memory returned then, ah yes, he had not slept on the ground for years, so why was the ground beneath him now?

He put out a cautious hand, trying to find his bearings, and encountered... he worked it out to be a bed, though he’d never approached it from this angle before. Sitting up, rolling to his knees, he moved his arms across the tumbled surface. Yes, it was a bed. His bed? Had he fallen out of bed?

Turning away from the bed one of his hands contacted the wall. Not his bed then, for it was never this close to a wall. Where was he? Rising to his feet, he walked carefully along the wall, but there was an obstruction before he’d gone more than a few steps. He felt its smooth sides; it felt much like a wardrobe would, were it lying on its side. This object was canted slightly. As he worked his way around it, he found out why when he trod upon something soft and yielding.

His mind told him what it was before he fell to his knees to feel with trembling hands. It was a soft female body, female he knew because of the skirts splayed to the sides more than for any other reason. The fallen wardrobe covered the upper part of the body.

 ‘Nell?’ he whispered. ‘My own?’ He inhaled deeply and was rewarded with a floral scent... but not violets. His Nell always smelt of violets; it was one way that he knew when she was near. It was not one of their daughters, either, for he knew their scents. He felt his way down the limbs to the feet. These were cold. There was no life in this body.

He remembered then the sleeping draught, and Mardibold. The healer had evidently left a watcher by the bed. Nell had gone out for some reason... or had she? Ferdi worked his way around the room, encountering many familiar objects in unfamiliar places. The whole room seemed to have been tossed like cherries in a falling basket. ‘What time is it?’ he wondered aloud, but of course there was no answer. There was no one else in the room besides Ferdi and the unidentified watcher.

Chapter 12. "They Say There's Still Hope"

 ‘Not far now, Ruby,’ Diamond said cheerily as she and Rosamunda helped Forget-me-not along. Pimpernel followed, encouraging the younger ones.

Small tents and larger pavilions were blooming in the large field to one side of the Smials, hobbits were bustling about, the roasting pits were in full operation. It looked as if some festival or other were being celebrated, until one looked beyond the party field.

The picnickers stopped short in shock at their first sight of the Great Smials. Diamond heard Pimpernel’s soft exhalation, O no! behind her, while Rosamunda caught her breath in a sob. At first glance it looked as if half the huge dwelling had fallen in, and in the half still intact gaping holes yawned where windows had glistened in the morning sun. Ropes hung down from such holes on the upper levels, some bearing hobbits climbing up or down.

 ‘Come along,’ Diamond said, finding her nerve. As she started forward the others moved with her in a tight bunch, a flock of bewildered sheep. When they were halfway across the great field a hobbit shouted and jogged towards them.

 ‘Mistress!’ Diamond recognised one of the cooks; indeed, he held a ladle in his hand. ‘You’re safe! When you hadn’t returned before the last aftershake we feared the worst.’

 ‘We are all well, Tater,’ Diamond returned, though it had been a close thing. While they were still embracing Forget-me-not, having pulled her out of the pit bare moments before, the earth shook again. Throwing themselves to the ground, clinging together, they had watched the pit close itself as quickly as it had opened. Had the tween still been within... Diamond shook herself. It had not happened. ‘I see you have things well in hand here. Can you tell me how we stand?’ The cook took the injured tween in his arms and they started walking towards the tents once more.

 ‘Regi would do better,’ Tater began, but Diamond fixed him with a firm eye. He hesitated and continued. ‘About a score dead, thus far, and three-score and ten injured, but more are missing. Gimli’s here,’ he brightened, ‘and he’s been wonderful help! Got us all out of the kitchens and those who’d been at elevenses in the great room though the entrances were blocked.’

 ‘Gimli? He wasn’t expected until this evening,’ Diamond said. A tall fair figure emerged from one of the pavilions at their approach. ‘Legolas!’ she cried, and the Wood Elf took her hands in his.

 ‘We rode like the wind after the first disturbance,’ he said gravely. ‘Come, Diamond, Pippin needs you.’

***

Fastred and Leotred were both on top of the box as they drove into Bywater. It was fully as bad as they were expecting, but the hobbits of Bywater seemed to have everything well in hand. Fas recognised the scraps of fabric nailed to doors or fluttering from stakes in front of ruined homes: in the days of the terrible fever that had assailed the Shire years earlier, such flags signalled to rescuers that a dwelling had already been searched for survivors. The street had been cleared of rubble and the good smells of wood smoke and cooking were in the air.

As they rode the short stretch between Bywater and Hobbiton they met the small group of Gamgees. ‘Fas! Leot!’ Sam cried, swinging down from his pony. He ran to the coach, opening the door to embrace his daughters and grands. ‘You’re safe! We knew you were on the way, but news from the West Farthing has been sketchy.’

 ‘We left Michel Delving early this morning,’ Fas said, ‘and have heard no word of how they fared, but it looks as if the shake was much stronger here.’

 ‘And worse at the Great Smials,’ Merry Gamgee said grimly. ‘We’re on our way there now.’

 ‘What of Bag End?’ Leot said.

 ‘Bag End is still standing,’ Sam said, emerging from the coach. ‘Why don’t you take your families there and ride to the Smials once they’re settled? From the news I’ve heard, the Tooks need all the help they can get.’

 ‘We’ll come,’ Fastred said, and Leot nodded. Sam mounted his pony and the four Gamgees rode on.

On the outskirts of Hobbiton, the coach met a body of Tooks marching in good order. The leader hailed Fastred. ‘Fas! Are ye coming to the Smials?’

 ‘I’ll be right behind you!’ Fastred called back. The Tooks parted to flow around the coach, more than a few nodding greetings, remembering when Fas and Leot had lived and worked at the Smials some years earlier.

They stayed at Bag End long enough for Leot to check the burns for himself. ‘Rose-Mum, you’ll do fine,’ he said reassuringly, replacing the last dressing. ‘Why, in a week you’ll be yourself again, and Prim as well.’

 ‘I wasn’t aware I’d turned into someone else,’ Rose muttered dryly, but then she had a smile and hug for her son-in-love before he rose from her side.

 ‘Elfstan, you stay and help your Uncle Bilbo,’ Fastred said.

 ‘You can count on me, Dad,’ the youngster said, standing as tall as he could.

Daisy and Day stepped forward, bulging bags in their hands. ‘Sandwiches, just made up,’ Day said, ‘and tarts made already for the wedding breakfast. Frodo and Hamfast are working down in Bywater; did you see them?’

 ‘I didn’t,’ Fastred said. ‘But I’ll look for them on our way to the Smials.’

 ‘Take extra ponies and take them with you,’ Daisy said. ‘They’re good at digging.’

***

Ferdibrand was still unsure about what had happened, though his mind was constantly turning the problem over. Had ruffians come and ransacked the Great Smials, taking all the hobbits and leaving him among the dead? It was the only thing he could think of that halfway made sense.

He felt his way carefully out of the bedroom, and it was a good thing too, for broken glass littered the carpet and floor. The smell of lamp oil was in the air and the room was chilly. Evidently no fires burned on the hearths and the lamps were all smashed. Ferdi smiled grimly. Darkness was no barrier to him.

He searched the sitting room, and when his hand encountered a hard round ball he identified it by smell and feel as an apple. Rubbing it on his shirt, he proceeded to eat it. Good. He’d been light-headed from so many days without eating. The apple helped steady him and he continued the search, feeling all about and calling softly though it turned out there was no one to hear him. No one answered, and he discovered no more bodies in any of the rooms of the suite. Very well, it was time to broaden the search.

***

The Sun was thinking about seeking her bed as the Mayor rode through what remained of Tuckborough. Hobbits were digging here as in Bywater, but Sam could see that the damage was worse here. The hobbits in Bywater were salvaging supplies, all hobbits already accounted for, but these... ‘Have you found everyone?’ he called to one of the Tooks who’d paused to watch them pass.

 ‘Not yet,’ the Took answered wearily. ‘Got all my family out, but my neighbour’s littlest is still missing. Haven’t found the cradle yet, and he cannot leave his wife’s side.’ He wiped at his eyes with a grimy hand and turned back to his digging.

Goldi choked back a sob and gave herself a firm talking-to. She did not want her father to think her a silly lass and regret bringing her with him. Still, it took several deep breaths before she was sure the tears would stay where they belonged. There’d be time enough to cry later, when the work was done.

***

Meliloc Brandybuck saw Mayor Samwise ride into the yard as he was crossing from field to Smials. He’d relinquished the lead to Reginard once the steward’s cuts had been cleaned and bandaged, and allowed a healer to lead him away to a pallet on the green field. Now he was feeling better after a rest and a bite to eat and on his way to join the helpers.

 ‘Mayor Sam!’ he called, breaking into a jog though it jolted his head. ‘Merry-lad! Pip! Goldi!’

 ‘Where’s the Thain?’ Sam said, pulling his pony to a stop.

 ‘First pavilion on the left,’ Meliloc said, waving back at the field.

 ‘How’s Faramir?’ Goldi asked.

Meliloc turned a sober face towards her. ‘I’m sorry, Goldi,’ he said. ‘He’s not been found yet.’

Goldi nodded. She’d braced herself for the worst. Missing was better than confirmed dead. She held firmly to hope.

When they reached the pavilions a stable lad stepped forward to take their ponies. ‘I’ll see them fed and rubbed down,’ he promised. ‘D’you want them held ready, or should I turn them out to graze?’

 ‘Turn them out,’ Sam answered. ‘We’ll be here awhile yet.’

Inside the first pavilion, he broke into a smile when he saw Legolas, for his heart always felt lighter in the presence of one of the Fair Folk. ‘Legolas!’ he called.

The Elf looked up. ‘Sam!’ he returned.

Diamond sat on Pippin’s other side, her face strained. ‘Sam,’ she said in greeting. ‘I wish I could say “welcome” but it’s a poor welcome at best.’

Sam strode forward to take the hand that Legolas had released. ‘Pippin,’ he said. ‘Stay with us.’

The Thain was whiter than the pillows that propped him. He opened his eyes to peer blearily at Samwise. ‘Merry?’ he said.

 ‘Merry’s coming,’ Diamond replied softly. ‘He’ll be here soon, my love.’

 ‘What can I do?’ Sam asked.

 ‘Talk to Everard, or Gimli,’ Diamond answered. ‘They’re in charge of the...’ She didn’t finish, but looked down at Pippin. ‘They say there’s still hope,’ she whispered. ‘They’ve found pockets of Tooks, trapped but safe, and they’re digging ever deeper into the Smials to find more.’

Chapter 13. Deep in the Smials

Hobbits have a fair sense of time of day simply by the state of their stomachs. They tend to tell time by the meal they’ve just finished, or the meal they’re anticipating, and by the degree of hunger which tells them how long it has been since the last meal. Ferdibrand, having gone so long without eating, had no sense of the time except that the few apples he’d found on the floor as he searched were long gone and his body demanded sustenance. It could have been middle night, or noontide so far as he was concerned.

He found his way to the door of the suite, which seemed to be stuck in a partly-open position. It was a tight squeeze to get through, but he managed, though he lost a few waistcoat buttons. It was an odd time to be thinking of old mad Bilbo and his stories. Ferdi only hoped he wouldn’t encounter a Gollum-creature here, deep in the heart of the Smials.

He felt his way down the corridor towards the main part of the Great Smials, fetching up against an obstruction where there should be a turn to the right. He puzzled at the feel of it, rough, tumbled, rocks and dirt, more like a fall in a mine than something to be found in the sprawling family manse of the Tooks.

His stomach gave a more urgent rumble and he was starting to feel sick from hunger. Very well, he’d turn back and search through the other suites in this section for food before continuing his explorations. The Thain’s suite was just beyond his own.

Ferdi groped his way to the door of the Thain’s quarters, moving much more uncertainly than his usual custom, for he kept encountering debris and he did not want to stumble and suffer a bruising fall. Reaching the desired doorway, he called, ‘Anyone there?’ No answer came.

Again he smelled the tang of lamp oil on the air. He dropped to his hands and knees, feeling ahead for broken glass. He found another apple; well, that was better than nothing. He gulped it down, nearly choking on the last bite as he heard a muffled voice. ‘Hello!’ he shouted.

The voice came again, a little louder but still muffled, accompanied by a tapping noise. Following his ears, Ferdi scrambled across the floor of the Thain’s sitting room, skirting overturned furniture, to the hallway beyond. ‘Hullo!’ he shouted again. The answer came more clearly. Ferdi moved down the corridor, pausing at each door, finally reaching the source of the tapping. ‘Hullo!’ he cried a final time.

 ‘Uncle Ferdi?’ he heard from behind the door.

 ‘Farry!’ he said. ‘What’s happened?’

 ‘We cannot budge the door,’ Faramir said.

 ‘A moment,’ Ferdibrand replied. He felt his way around the door frame. ‘It’s jammed,’ he said and shook his head at stating the obvious. ‘Step back, Farry, I’m going to try to break it in.’ He felt the floor around him; he certainly did not want to stumble and knock himself into the morrow. When he was sure of his footing and direction, he shouted, ‘Ready!’

He lowered his shoulder and ran against the door, connecting solidly with a satisfying thunk. ‘It moved a bit, I think,’ he called encouragingly. ‘I’m going to try again.’ He felt the door give on the third try, and another exploration with his fingers revealed that the door was now slightly ajar.

 ‘The frame is out of true,’ Ferdi said, no longer having to shout to Faramir on the other side of the thick, sturdy wooden door. ‘One or two more ought to have it clear of the frame.’ He was correct in his estimation, for the door gave under his next rush, tumbling him into the room.

 ‘Uncle Ferdi?’ he heard in his ear, then hands were grabbing at his arms.

 ‘Faramir? Merigrim? Are the twins here as well?’ he asked.

 ‘They’re with Telly,’ Faramir answered. ‘When everything came down he was caught beneath a shelf of books and we haven’t been able to get him free, nor get anyone to answer our calls.’ Indeed Faramir’s voice was hoarse from hours of fruitless shouting.

 ‘Came down?’ Ferdi asked. He began to understand what had happened. ‘How long ago?’

 ‘Telly was insisting that the lads finish their sums before elevenses,’ Faramir said. ‘I’d say we’ve missed elevenses and nooning as well.’

 ‘It feels as if we’ve missed teatime and eventides and late supper,’ Merigrin groaned. ‘I don’t know when I’ve felt so hungered.’

 ‘I think it’s nearly teatime,’ Faramir said firmly.

 ‘Bring me to Telly,’ Ferdi said. ‘Meri, stay by the door and keep calling.’ He followed the sound of Farry’s progress to the inner room.

 ‘Berry? Borry? Uncle Ferdi’s here,’ Faramir called.

 ‘Uncle Ferdi! Have you come to take us out?’ Borogrin piped.

 ‘It’s so dark!’ Beregrin put in. ‘Farry won’t let us light a match, even though I found a candle!’

 ‘A good thing, too,’ Ferdibrand said. ‘The carpets are soaked with lamp oil. You’d have an inferno if you did.’ Involuntarily he shuddered. He followed the sound of the twins’ voices to where they sat upon the floor with Telebold. ‘Telly?’ he said softly.

 ‘He hasn’t spoken in ever so long,’ Beregrin said, his voice plaintive.

Ferdibrand ran his hands lightly over the tutor, finding at last Telly’s throat. He let his fingers rest for quite awhile before saying quietly, ‘I’m sorry, lads. He’s left us.’

The twins gasped in unison while Faramir gave a soft exclamation of grief. Ferdibrand let them have a few moments, making his way back to where Meri was calling. At the news, Meri took a shaky breath. ‘We were such a trial to him,’ he said regretfully. He was silent a moment, then said, ‘What do we do now?’

 ‘Well,’ Ferdi said slowly, ‘Since the rescuers are taking their time coming to find us, perhaps we ought to go find them instead.’ He patted the tween on his shoulder and went back to the others. ‘Come lads,’ he said. ‘There’s no need to wait here any longer.’

He led, being used to the darkness. There was no use taking the corridor to the right, with its rockfall blocking them off from the main part of the Smials. Once they were out of the Thain’s quarters Ferdi turned to the left instead, hoping for a clear passage. As they passed the steward’s quarters he called loudly, ‘Anyone there?’

 ‘Rosa went on a picnic with Mother and Auntie Nell,’ Meri answered. Ferdi nodded, feeling relief. Nell had not been in the Smials when all had come down. No doubt Pippin had pried her from his side, to gather sunshine and fresh air while he slept. He’d buy Pip a mug of ale at the Spotted Duck when they got free, for sparing Nell the fear of being trapped in the darkness, or worse. He thought again of the watcher he’d left behind.

Faramir added, ‘The servants all went to take elevenses in the great room; Sandy poked his head in at the study just before they left to ask if he should bring something back for the lads.’

 ‘So there ought to be no one in the suites at all,’ Ferdi said. ‘Good, then all we need to think about is getting out ourselves.’ His stomach gave a grumble, echoed by someone else’s. He gave a grin. ‘Let us see if we can be out of here in time for tea.’

 ‘Sounds like a right fine notion,’ Faramir said. ‘How shall we do this?’

Ferdi had given this some thought. He didn’t want to lose anyone in the darkness. ‘Berry, hook one hand into my belt,’ he said, ‘Borry, you hook a hand into Berry’s belt, and then Meri...’

 ‘I hold Borry, and Farry holds me,’ Merigrin broke in. ‘We’ll make a snake and worm our way through the tunnels.’

 ‘And you have one hand free to feel your way along,’ Ferdi said. ‘Feel with your toes as well, though I’ll warn you of any stumble-stones in our path.’

It was a good plan. Progress was slow but steady. As long as they didn’t run into another fall... but Ferdi did not pursue that thought. He didn’t want to borrow trouble. He kept up a steady stream of talk, asking questions and waiting for each of the Thain’s sons to answer, even as he felt his way along the corridor.

 ‘Well,’ he said at length, ‘There’s a breath of fresher air coming through here somehow. I wonder whence it comes.’

 ‘It might be...’ Faramir started to say, but his words were drowned by a rumble that grew in frightening intensity and died away as suddenly as it came.

When all was still once more, Ferdi found himself lying on the ground, tumbled together with the twins, Berry’s hand still gripping his belt. Borry was moaning softly beyond his twin.

 ‘Borry?’ Ferdi said.

 ‘My arm,’ Borry sobbed. ‘My arm, o it hurts!’

 ‘Steady lad,’ Ferdi soothed. ‘Meri? Merigrin? Faramir?’ There was no answer.

 ‘Leave hold, Berry,’ Ferdi said, reaching behind him to pull the youngster’s hand loose. He crawled on the floor, sweeping in both directions with his hands, coming upon a foot, a leg, protruding from a pile of dirt. ‘Berry! Come and help me dig!’ he said frantically, pulling away dirt and rock. He heard a scramble behind him and then felt Berry’s hand collide with his as they scraped at the buried hobbit. At last Ferdi was able to pull Mergrim free.

 ‘Meri!’ Berry sobbed, but Ferdi interrupted, digging frenziedly at the pile.

 ‘Don’t stop,’ he gasped. ‘Farry’s still under all this...’

Chapter 14. Perchance to Dream

Faramir wakened suddenly to brilliant light instead of inky darkness. The others were lying upon the ground nearby, all tumbled together. Borogrin was moaning softly, hugging his right arm with his left. No, not quite all were tumbled there—Merigrin was under a pile of dirt and rocks. Somehow Farry could see his brother crumpled there, arms over his head and legs drawn up. ‘Meri!’ he said urgently, but Mergrin did not stir. He tried to dig the dirt away from his brother, but could not get a good purchase.

He turned to Ferdibrand. ‘Uncle Ferdi!’ he cried. ‘Meri’s buried! You’ve got to get him out!’

Ferdi stirred and sat up. ‘Borry?’ he said, groping blindly. But of course, Ferdi was blind. He couldn’t see what was plain to Faramir.

 ‘Uncle Ferdi!’ he cried again, tugging at Ferdi’s arm. ‘Over there! Meri’s buried! He’ll die for lack of air!’

‘My arm,’ Borry sobbed. ‘My arm, o it hurts!’

‘Steady lad,’ Ferdi soothed. ‘Meri? Merigrin? Faramir?’

 ‘I’m here, Uncle Ferdi,’ Faramir answered. ‘I’m well; not hurt at all, but Merigrin...’

‘Leave hold, Berry,’ Ferdi said, reaching behind him to pull the youngster’s hand loose. He crawled on the floor, sweeping in both directions with his hands, coming upon a foot, a leg, protruding from a pile of dirt. ‘Berry! Come and help me dig!’ he said frantically, pulling away dirt and rock. Beregrin scrambled behind him, found Merigrin’s foot, felt his way up his brother’s body and began to scrape at the smothering dirt. At last Ferdi was able to pull Mergrim free.

 ‘There, you’ve got him,’ Farry said in satisfaction. He turned his head, for someone was calling his name. He couldn’t quite hear... ‘Just a moment, Uncle Ferdi; I’ll be right back,’ he said over his shoulder. As he walked away he heard Berry sobbing Meri’s name.

Somehow the tumbled rock and dirt were no barrier. Faramir negotiated these easily, finding he could move right through walls if he had to. How odd, he thought. I wonder why I never discovered this trick before?

He came upon pockets of Tooks, sitting or lying on the floor. Some dug wearily, some sang softly, some lay very still. Coming to the great room he found a large number of Tooks and servants. Unlike the other areas Farry had passed through, this room was lit by torches that burned faint and red in the bright light flooding the Smials. Farry saw that the hobbits there had been busy setting things to rights, had put the tables and benches back on their legs, had salvaged what food they could. Farry paused by a basket of bread, but he no longer felt hungry and so he passed on, past the hobbits who were digging at the blocked entrance with fire irons and cooking tools.

Finally he was outside the Great Smials. Hobbits were lowering something from an upper window. Faramir gasped as he realised it was his father, bound to a door that acted as a makeshift litter. ‘Da!’ he cried, stumbling forward to take hold of the guiding rope as the door tilted and threatened to spill its load despite the binding ropes.

He saw a white blur out of the corner of his eye, and turning to look he saw Legolas and Gimli galloping towards them on a graceful ghost-coloured steed. They reached the yard just as the Thain was lowered to the stones.

Legolas slipped from the horse and ran lightly to the group of hobbits. ‘Pippin,’ he said.

 ‘I don’t think he hears you,’ Faramir said softly. The Wood Elf turned his head, a puzzled look on his face, but was distracted by Meliloc as the Brandybuck pushed himself to a standing position and spoke.

 ‘Legolas,’ he said, ‘We were expecting you, but I’d quite forgotten... forgive our poor hospitality. I’m afraid we have no rest to offer you.’

Gimli came up then, to steady Meliloc. ‘How can we help?’ he said urgently.

 ‘There’s a large body of Tooks trapped in the great room...’ Farry began.

Meliloc swayed in the Dwarf’s grasp. ‘You’d know better; you know more of digging than I do.’

A stable lad had run shouting into the Smials and now Everard emerged through a shattered window. ‘Gimli!’ he cried. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes. We’ve many missing inside.’

 ‘How much has come down?’ Gimli asked gruffly. Everard unrolled the plans clutched in his hand and the two bent over them, talking in low tones.

Legolas knelt at the side of the Thain as the rescuers unwound the rope binding him to the door. ‘Pippin,’ he said softly. He placed a gentle hand on Pippin’s forehead, listening hard to more than ears could hear, and took up one of Pippin’s hands.

Faramir could see his father’s spirit shining through, somehow as if he were about to shed his body the way a butterfly sheds its chrysalis. He heard his father calling for Diamond, though Pippin’s lips never moved.

 ‘And we had another shake, a little one,’ Everard was saying. ‘We had to dig out some of the rescuers then.’

 ‘I thought the Thain’s study would come down upon us all,’ put in Healer Sigimand, who’d slid down the rope once Pippin was safely on the ground. ‘Thankfully it didn’t.’ He was covered with dust from the crumbling ceiling, and bruised from larger chunks that had rained down upon him, but thankfully no more than that.

‘Where’s Diamond?’ Legolas said, raising his eyes from Pippin’s face. The hobbits fell silent, but the Elf did not miss the glances that passed between them. ‘Is she in the Smials?’ he asked, his hand tightening on Pippin’s.

 ‘We think not,’ Meliloc said. ‘The last I saw, the Thain’s wife and daughters were off on a picnic, but they haven’t been seen. They ought not to be far from here, but they’ve not returned and we could spare none to make a search, not knowing just where they were bound.’

 ‘They’re safe,’ Faramir said with certainty. Somehow he just knew though he wasn’t sure how he knew. Diamond was holding Forget-me-not and crying tears of relief, while the others gathered round to add their own kisses and hugs for the rescued tween. It had been a very near thing, but all were safe.

Legolas looked up, and Farry turned as he heard his name called again. ‘Who is it?’ he asked.

 ‘Faramir!’ the call came, and he could not resist but turned away to follow.

 ‘Wait,’ he said, pausing to turn back to his father. ‘Da,’ he said. ‘I have to go. Da, I... I love you.’ The voice called again and he felt the yard of the Smials fall away; the blue of the sky deepened to velvety black with sprinklings of star-jewels, and in the distance the white shore of a far green country beckoned.

 Pippin sat bolt upright, thrusting aside the Wood Elf’s hand, shouting, ‘Farry, no! Faramir!’ His eyes were wide and he grasped at the air in front of him before falling back into the supporting arms of those on either side of him.

 ‘Pippin?’ Legolas said softly.

 ‘Gone,’ Pippin whispered, shaking his head feebly without opening his eyes. ‘Gone.’

 ‘He’s lost far too much blood,’ Sigimand said. ‘I’ve got to get him into a bed and start forcing liquids down him. I stitched the worst of the wounds, but...’

 ‘They’re setting up pavilions in the party field for the injured,’ Meliloc said. His good-natured face had lost all colour and he sagged against the wall again.

 ‘Seems as if we ought to tuck you up as well,’ Siggy said dryly.

 ‘I’m well,’ Meliloc protested faintly.

The healer laughed. ‘The Tooks are rubbing off on you,’ he said. ‘You sound just as unreasonable as any one of us.’ He nodded to two helpers to take the Brandybuck over to the pavilions, saying, ‘Reginard is coming down next and he’ll take charge, Melly. You’ve done a good job of organising everyone in the meantime. Many thanks.’

Litter bearers were easing Pippin onto the litter. As they carefully lifted the Thain, Siggy took up one hand, Legolas the other, and they walked slowly across the yard on either side of the litter.

 ‘Now then, where do you suggest we start?’ Everard asked Gimli.

The Dwarf stroked his beard, considering. ‘How about the banquet hall?’ he said. ‘Ought to have been quite a few people there, as the shake hit just before elevenses, didn’t it?’ At the chief engineer’s blank look he amended, ‘The great room.’

 ‘Ah,’ Everard said, his face clearing. ‘That sounds like a good place, indeed, and it’s close to the main entrance.’ He got up, rolled the plan again, and set about the business of rescue with the Dwarf at his side.

***

Everything was so green here, myriad greens that dazzled the eyes and made him thirsty for more. He drank in the landscape of waving grasses, jewelled flowers, golden-leafed trees and azure sky. It wasn’t just his eyes, but all his senses... he was alive to birdsong and the sound of the breeze, the whisper of grass and leaves; he smelt fragrances that defied description and felt air and sunshine and a sense of well-being that bubbled up from somewhere within; he laughed aloud in joy.

 ‘There’s a grand sound,’ someone said behind him, and he turned, revelling in the sensation of movement. His body felt so alive, mere breathing was a pleasure, the air a benediction. He lifted his hand, staring, marvelling at the wondrous way his fingers could open and close.

 ‘You must be Pippin’s son,’ the same voice said, and Farry looked up from his bemusement to see a hobbit smiling at him. ‘You look just as I remember him.’

 ‘You have the advantage of me,’ he answered, then remembering his manners he bowed. ‘Faramir Took, at your service.’

The other hobbit rose lightly to his feet and bowed in return. ‘At at yours, and your family’s,’ he answered with a smile. ‘Ah how long it has been since I’ve had the occasion to utter those words.’

 ‘Who are you?’ Faramir blurted. The resemblance to his father was remarkable; this hobbit looked quite a bit like Pippin, only older. Fine lines creased his face when he smiled, and silver touched the curls on his head and feet.

 ‘Can you not guess?’ the other said, still smiling.

Faramir frowned. There was something so... familiar, about the face, something... Ah! That was it. This hobbit resembled the portrait he’d seen in the best parlour on visits to Brandy Hall.

The other hobbit’s smile brightened as recognition came into Faramir’s eyes. ‘That’s right,’ he said softly. Faramir’s gaze fell to the right hand, a hand missing a finger.

 ‘Frodo?’ he said. ‘Frodo Baggins?’

 ‘One and the same!’ Frodo said, laughing in delight.

 ‘How...? Where...?’ Faramir stammered.

 ‘Come,’ Frodo said, ‘Come and sit down.’ He took Faramir’s arm, walked him to one of the wondrous shining trees, sat him down against the silver trunk. ‘That’s better,’ he said.

 ‘Are you... are we dead?’ Faramir said, suddenly coming to a logical, if startling, conclusion.

Frodo threw back his head and laughed. ‘Dead?’ he said at last, fishing a snowy handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his face. ‘Certainly not! It is not my time yet, not until... well, suffice it to say, I’m not dead.’

 ‘But,’ Faramir said, puzzled again. ‘This place...’

 ‘Ah,’ Frodo said. ‘That’s a bit hard to explain. They do things differently here, you know.’

 ‘Do they?’ Faramir said faintly.

 ‘Indeed,’ Frodo said. ‘Someday you’ll understand. It’s all part of the Song, you know.’

 ‘No,’ Faramir replied. ‘I didn’t know.’

 ‘In any event,’ Frodo said, ‘You wandered too soon. It’s not your time. I was sent to meet you, to send you back.’

 ‘Back?’ Faramir said, confused. He wasn’t sure where back was.

 ‘You’re needed,’ Frodo said. ‘For one thing, Pippin has been so very badly injured, you know, and it’s not his time either, but he’ll very likely die of grief should he lose you now.’

 ‘Da...’ Farry whispered, feeling a tug at his heart. Back.

 ‘And Goldilocks,’ Frodo went on, breaking off suddenly with a thoughtful look. ‘I saw her, you know,’ he said conversationally, ‘before I left Samwise behind. I told him she would be coming along one of these days, and here she is, all grown up and about to marry!’

 ‘He wrote about that,’ Faramir said, his sense of unreality growing. His body was growing heavier. The light around him was dimming, and the air no longer blessed his lungs but burned.

 ‘She’s waiting for you,’ Frodo said. ‘You’re to be the next Thain, and the Thain after will be of your blood, and hers, but that cannot be if you stay here...’ The words grew ever fainter. Faramir struggled to open eyelids grown strangely heavy, and to hear through the rushing sound in his ears.

 ‘I wish you joy, Faramir, and boundless blessing,’ Frodo’s voice lingered even after Faramir could no longer see him or the bright world surrounding. ‘Laugh long, live long, love forever!’

Chapter 15. All Through the Night

Ferdi dug frantically until his fingers found a piece of clothing. ‘Keep digging!’ he cried to Beregrin. ‘Keep digging!’ He pulled at the coat, for coat it was, but the earth refused to give up its prize so easily and Ferdi was forced to scrape away more dirt and rock before he could haul Farry free. ‘Faramir!’ he shouted, shaking the limp hobbit. ‘Farry!’

From the sound of it, Berry was weeping again. His voice retreated slightly and Ferdi heard Merigrin moan, then say confusedly, ‘It’s all right, Be-Bo, it’s just a bad dream. There, there.’ Ferdi imagined the older brother holding the younger one close in the inky darkness. ‘What’s happened to the watch lamp?’ Merigrin said.

 ‘Smashed, all smashed, like my arm,’ Borogin said through his teeth. ‘Uncle Ferdi, how’s Farry?’

 ‘Stay with us, Farry! Breathe!’ Ferdi muttered, but there was no response. He heard scrambling behind him and sensed the presence of Faramir’s brothers gathering round.

 ‘Do something!’ Merigrin, sounding well-awake now, anguish in his tone.

Dim memory stirred in Ferdibrand then; he placed one hand beneath Faramir’s neck and the other on his nephew’s forehead, fastened his mouth on the younger hobbit’s and blew hard. Air whistled from Farry’s nose and so Ferdi moved to pinch it off. He blew again.

 ‘What’re you doing?’ Merigrin asked. ‘Is he breathing?’

 ‘No,’ Ferdi said, coming up for a breath of his own before forcing more air into Faramir. ‘I remembered – your father did this – when I nearly died – after Bywater,’ he said in between breaths.

 ‘The Dwarf-breathing!’ Beregrin said. ‘When the troll crushed Da flat, Gimli blew him up again like you’d blow up a pig’s blatter!’

 ‘Yes,’ Ferdi agreed. He was beginning to feel a bit dizzy and stopped talking to concentrate on the task.

 ‘I remember,’ Merigrin said softly. ‘The Dwarves would revive their own when they got buried in a digging.’ Ferdi heard him move a little closer. ‘Come on, Farry, breathe!’

 ‘Breathe, Farry!’ the twins said in unison.

Ferdibrand did not know how much longer he could keep up his efforts, but suddenly he felt Faramir moving. He hesitated, poised to blow again, and his nephew took a gasping breath, and then another. ‘He’s breathing!’ he said in triumph. ‘Farry?’

Faramir didn’t answer, but at least he was breathing on his own. Ferdibrand gave a shaky sigh and sat back. ‘How are you, Meri?’ he asked.

 ‘Stiff, sore, but awake,’ Merigrim answered.

 ‘Anything broken?’ Ferdi said.

 ‘No,’ Merigrim answered. ‘Thankfully.’

 ‘Good,’ Ferdi said. ‘You can help me set Borry’s arm.’

 ‘In the dark?’ Borry piped.

 ‘It’s all the same to me,’ Ferdi said. ‘It’ll be more difficult if we wait.’ His head continued to swim, from lack of food more likely than not. He took another deep breath and said, ‘Feel about on the floor, see if you can find any torches that were shaken out of their brackets.’

Two torches were found. Ferdi shed his upper garments, putting on waistcoat and coat again but biting his shirt and tearing the fabric into strips which he wound carefully. ‘Berry,’ he said.

 ‘Here,’ answered the youngster promptly.

 ‘Hold out your hands.’ Ferdi pressed the rolls of bandages into the young hobbit’s hands. ‘Now you hold onto these; hold them right there so I can find them when I reach for them. Meri!’

 ‘Yessir,’ Mergrin answered.

 ‘We’ll sit Borry against the wall; can you scoot back, Borry? Settle your back nice and firm,’ he said. He felt the wall and the lad to be sure of the position. ‘Brace yourself with your feet; we’re going to have a bit of a tugging contest.’

 ‘Yes Uncle Ferdi,’ Borry said bravely.

 ‘Now, Meri’s going to take your arm and start to pull as gently as he can. It’s going to hurt, Borry, but you’re a brave lad I know.’ Ferdi guided Merigrin’s hand to his younger brother’s. ‘Is this the one, Borry? We don’t want to set the wrong arm!’

 ‘That’s the one, Uncle Ferdi,’ Borry gulped.

 ‘Very well, Meri. Gentle pull, now, a little more, that’s it.’ He could hear Borry’s breathing, harsh in the darkness, and Berry murmuring reassurances as he moved his hands on the lad’s arm, feeling for the alignment of the bones. ‘A little more,’ he said, and then again, ‘a little harder, Meri, don’t worry, you won’t pull his arm off completely.’

 ‘No, only half off,’ Borry gritted, and Ferdi grinned.

 ‘Brave lad,’ he said, and then in satisfaction, ‘That’s got it!’ He picked up one of the torches, lined it up against the now straight arm, and swiftly bound it in place with strips of shirt. ‘A sling, now,’ he said, slipping a makeshift support over Borogrin’s head to hold the arm steady. ‘There, Borry, that’s done.’ He heard the lad sigh and slump against the wall.

 ‘What do we do now?’ Merigrin asked.

 ‘We look for a way out,’ Ferdibrand answered. ‘Of course.’ He left the lads huddled together while he felt his way back towards the suites. Another fall of dirt and rock stopped him before he reached the first door.

At his sigh, Merigrin called anxiously, ‘Uncle Ferdi!’

 ‘I’m well,’ Ferdibrand said. ‘I’m coming back.’ He kept up a steady stream of reassurances as he felt his way back to the lads and settled against the wall. ‘It looks as if we’ll have to sit tight here and wait for them to find us,’ he said. Never had he felt so closed in since the day he first opened his eyes to darkness. He wondered if the air were getting stuffy already or if it was his imagination.

 ‘Will they find us?’ Berry whispered.

 ‘Of course they will, lad,’ Ferdi said stoutly. ‘Your Da won’t rest until his sons are safe, nor will my Nell let him rest until I’m safe!’

 ‘I’m cold,’ Borry whispered, and indeed, it was chilly underground with no warming fires or torches or lamps.

 ‘Here, lad,’ Ferdi said, shrugging out of his coat again. ‘Wrap yourself in this.’ He tucked it around the lad, careful of the arm. ‘Berry, you can share the coat with him. As a matter of fact, let us all huddle together. It’ll be warmer that way. Now, who knows a good story to tell?’

And so the hours passed, filled with story and song, until the young ones grew sleepy. Ferdi and Meri sang for a time after the twins dropped off and then Merigrin’s voice fell away and Ferdi sang alone in the darkness. At last his own voice trailed into silence and he joined the others in sleep.

***

April 30

 ‘Merry!’ Diamond said as the Master of Buckland thrust his way into the pavilion. Estella hurried forward to embrace her old friend. ‘Estella!’

 ‘Pippin?’ Merry said softly, falling to his knees by the pallet. ‘I’m here, Pip.’ His cousin gave no sign of hearing. ‘He’s so pale,’ Merry whispered.

 ‘He was thrown through a window,’ Diamond said, and Estella gasped. ‘It could have been much worse. He caught at something and Regi hauled him back into the study before he could slip and be dashed to pieces on the stones.’

 ‘He always said the view from the Thain’s study was to die for,’ Estella murmured. ‘O forgive me, Diamond, I don’t know what I’m saying.’

 ‘You’re tired, I expect,’ Diamond said. ‘Lie yourself down, Tilly, and rest. It’s a long way from Buckland, and you must have done it in one long ride.’

 ‘Can’t stop at the Cockerel, it’s gone,’ Estella said, wiping at her forehead with the back of her hand. Merry rose to take hold of her and escorted her to a nearby pallet, probably there for Diamond’s convenience. ‘I am well,’ Estella protested.

 ‘Of course you are, my dear,’ Merry said, laying her down and pulling the coverlet over. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

 ‘It is tomorrow,’ Estella yawned. ‘The Sun is already throwing her promise into the sky; soon she’ll rise from her bed.’

 ‘Of course she will,’ Merry said in a soothing tone. Estella knew very well what he was doing, crooning her off to sleep, but she was too tired to say so, and in another moment she sighed and said no more.

 ‘Legolas is here,’ Diamond said as Merry settled opposite her again.

 ‘Then Gimli is helping with the digging-out,’ Merry said. ‘Good.’

Legolas entered the pavilion then with a greeting for Merry.

 ‘Old friend, it is good to see you again,’ Merry said.

 ‘Indeed, young friend,’ Legolas replied.

 ‘How is Pippin?’ Merry asked, as Legolas settled himself once more at Pippin’s head.

 ‘Deeply grieved,’ Legolas said, ‘and without the strength to bear it.’ He placed his hand on Pippin’s forehead. ‘He is calling for you again, Diamond. He doesn’t seem to know you’re beside him.’

 ‘I’m here,’ Diamond said instantly, her hands tightening on Pippin's. She took one hand away to stroke Pippin’s cheek. ‘I’m here, my love, do you hear me?’

 ‘That’s better,’ Legolas said softly. ‘He’s resting again.’

 ‘I’m here too, Pip,’ Merry said, bending close. ‘Stay with us.’ Grieved? Bad as the disaster was, the Tooks were dealing with it, with courage and determination.

Diamond looked up in time to read the look. ‘Farry’s gone,’ she whispered, and swallowed back her tears. Now was no time to be weeping, when there was Pippin’s life yet to be won. His grief was a heavy enough burden, she mustn’t add to it but speak instead of hope and love.

Merry straightened in shock, but Legolas nodded.

 ‘They pulled him out? What of his brothers?’ He’d been sketchily filled in on his way from the picket line to the pavilion.

 ‘He’s not been found yet,’ Diamond said, then swallowed hard once more and began to croon a song to Pippin.

 ‘He said goodbye to his father,’ Legolas whispered. ‘I heard him as he was passing away. Somehow Pippin heard him as well.’

Through the rest of that long and wearisome day they waited, watching with Pippin by turns. Merry’s skills as Master were not needed to help with the rescue and recovery, but his presence helped to sustain his failing cousin. Estella could not get him to lie down after she wakened but made sure that he ate and drank. Diamond, too, stayed glued to Pippin’s side, talking and singing until she was hoarse, trying to call her beloved back from the pit of despair.

 ‘Elessar... Athelas,’ Merry said late that night when Healer Sigimand checked his patient and shook his head, muttering about forcing fluids with a feeding tube if they must.

 ‘I sent a messenger to the Lake late yesterday,’ Diamond said hopelessly. ‘He’s not so far away as he might be, were he in Gondor, but...’ It’s too far. Even were he to break his own Edict, it’s too far. Farry is dead and Pip is too heart-sick and weary to keep fighting.

 ‘It would have been his wedding day,’ Estella murmured, for she was thinking of Farry as well. The weary day had passed to its end and another dawn would arrive in a few hours, a dawn that promised a memorial feast when there should have been a wedding breakfast. She thought of Goldi, working steadily at whatever task came to hand, of Sam and his sons digging with unflagging determination in the dark underground tunnels with muscles honed in bright gardens, of the Tooks seeking their own, vowing that none would rest until all were found.

Chapter 16. Shining Through

May the First, in the wee hours of the morn

Pimpernel walked beneath the stars as she often had, but this night she walked alone.

 ‘How bright they are, my love,’ she whispered. ‘As bright as on our wedding night, when you gave them all to me.’ The shining points of light blurred and ran together as the tears filled her eyes at last. ‘Ferdi, my own,’ she said, and fell silent. Did he hear her? Or was he still buried in the bulk of the Hill beyond, waiting for release?

She heard the sound of sobbing not far off. Dashing the tears away she walked cautiously forward, stopping a few steps from a shadowy figure sitting in the grass. ‘Goldi?’ she said gently.

’Oh,’ Goldilocks was heard to say, along with the noises associated with gulping back tears and making oneself presentable. ‘Auntie Nell... did someone want me?’ Pimpernel would have become Goldi’s aunt this very day had things turned out differently.

 ‘We don’t know that they’re dead,’ Nell said, easing herself down. She’d be stiff, sitting in the cold grass, but nothing seemed to matter very much.

 ‘Legolas said...’ Goldi whispered.

 ‘Legolas saw no body, he heard an echo, he said, an echo, Goldi,’ Nell said firmly.

 ‘They expect to find the last of the bodies today,’ Goldi said brokenly.

 ‘Indeed, and they pulled someone living from the ruins less than half an hour ago,’ Nell said. ‘We don’t know who’ll be rescued next. There’s not as much damage as was feared, and that ought to give you hope, my dear.’ Instead of the slow painstaking digging through yards of fallen debris, the rescuers found large sections clear of falls, and the falls themselves were smaller in scope than originally thought. Construction of the Great Smials had begun a year or three after an earth shake, according to the old records that the engineers remembered studying, causing the builders to take extra precautions in excavating and bracing.

 ‘It’s so dark,’ Goldi said irrelevantly.

 ‘Look up, my dear,’ Pimpernel said, putting a hand under the girl’s chin to tilt her face to the sky. ‘Ferdi taught me to look up when my troubles seemed overwhelming. Look at the stars, forever faithful, fixed in their courses, no matter what happens to us.’

Goldi looked up in silence for a long while. ‘How will this bring Farry back to me?’ she said in a small voice.

 ‘O Goldi,’ Nell said, hugging the girl close. They sat together a long while, watching the sky.

***

Rose Gamgee startled her son-in-love by speaking as he bent over her by the dim light of a turned-down lantern. ‘What is it?’

 ‘Rose-Mum?’ Leotred said.

 ‘I wasn’t asleep,’ Rose said. Her legs burned. Aster Grubb’s soothing cream helped some, but not enough to sleep. ‘You’re back? What word from the Smials?’

 ‘I’ve come to fetch you,’ Leotred said, helping her sit up. ‘Today Goldi was to have wed Farry, but it looks as if she’ll be remembering him instead.’

 ‘They found him?’ Rose said sharply.

 ‘No,’ Leot said, his tone uncertain. ‘But they believe him dead, and his brothers with him, more than likely. They say the Thain is dying as well. I don’t know how they’d know about the boys, when there’s no bodies. But they expect to break through to the Thain’s quarters some time today; that’s in the deepest part of the Smials.’

 ‘Is Pippin really...?’ Rose said, searching Leot’s face in the shadowy light.

 ‘He’s beyond hobbit skill,’ he admitted. ‘The hands of the King, now...’

 ‘Is the King coming?’ Rose said, sitting up straighter.

 ‘It’s too far,’ Leot said, troubled. ‘Master Merry sent a message to the Lake right after the earthshake, and Mistress Diamond sent another when she was able to get to the Smials, but...’

 ‘Too far,’ Rose said softly, slumping again. ‘Ah my poor Samwise, it’ll be like watching his beloved Mr Frodo slip away, with the resemblance between the Thain and his cousin. Poor Goldi, to be thinking her Farry dead.’

 ‘She doesn’t think it’s so,’ Leot said. ‘She says she won’t accept his death until she sees it for herself.’

 ‘Well good for her!’ Rose said unexpectedly. At Leot’s surprised look she added, ‘I always said she had more sense than the Tooks. They’re much too fanciful. Imagine thinking someone dead when they haven’t even buried him!’

Leot didn’t answer. He remembered the stories of Bilbo’s return, unlooked-for, declared dead, his smial taken by the Sackville-Bagginses and all his possessions sold. It was easier to hope in the things you could see. Tooks weren’t the only ones ready to believe the worst.

 ‘Well then,’ Rose said. ‘What are we waiting for? If we leave now we ought to reach the Great Smials with the dawn.’

 ‘Bilbo and Robin are hitching up the waggon and padding the box with blankets and pillows,’ Leot said. ‘You and Prim will have a soft bed to lie in.’

 ‘Don’t forget about me,’ Rosie-lass said.

 ‘Rosie,’ Leot began but his wife interrupted.

 ‘The babe is not going to be born this day,’ she said, ‘no matter how jolting the waggon ride. You mark my words! I’m going too. The whole family is. Goldi needs us.’

 ‘Only if you ride in the coach rather than the waggon,’ Leot said wagging a stern finger.

 ‘Of course! Whatever you say, love,’ Rosie said coyly. She’d known she’d be able to talk him round. ‘You know your least wish is my dearest desire.’

***

Ferdi wakened as the rumbling of another aftershake died away. ‘Boys,’ he said. ‘Lads?’

 ‘Here,’ Merigrin said.

 ‘Here,’ the twins sounded together, and then Beregrin added, ‘Where else would we be?’

 ‘Farry?’ Ferdi said anxiously. He was stiff and cold. Good thing he was propped against a sturdy wall, and no one needed unburying. He didn’t think he could move even if he had to.

Merigrin answered, ‘He’s still breathing.’

 ‘Good,’ Ferdi said, relaxing again. ‘Good,’ he repeated. He was dizzy, light-headed, feeling hollow, empty, echoing inside but not hungry. A hobbit who goes without eating for too long forgets hunger, thus the old saying A hobbit who doesn’t eat is soon no hobbit at all. At least the gnawing hunger was gone. He felt at peace, free of care, light enough to float away.

As a matter of fact he did float away on the scrap of a song heard ever so faintly through the wall where his head rested. He did not hear the rhythmic thunk of the shovels that reached them at last, or the joyful cries of the lads as the lantern light shone through the rapidly widening hole.

Chapter 17. From Darkness into Light

A swelling crowd of hobbits stood in the yard of the Great Smials. Where hobbits gather there is invariably song, but not this day. Not that they were silent; when living hobbits were found and brought out there were cheers; when blanket-shrouded forms were carried out there were sobs and moans. The rescuers were burrowing into the deepest part of the Smials now. In the interest of speed they were breaking through intact walls rather than chipping away at the falls in the corridors. This practice posed no little risk, for they were eroding the very supports that kept the bulk of the Hill from falling in upon them, but workers braced each opening even as the next was begun.

Swift teens and tweens ran back and forth from the work to the yard bearing news. At last Gimli sent a messenger who pushed his way through the crowd, ran across the yard, and lifted the flap of the first pavilion of injured. ‘They’re breaking through!’ he panted.

Diamond started up, but sank back again, her grip on Pippin’s hand tightening. To her surprise he spoke.

 ‘Go,’ he whispered. ‘Go and greet the lads.’

 ‘Yes, my love,’ she answered, kissing him softly on the forehead. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

 ‘I will wait,’ he said and closed his eyes again.

Nell moved to Diamond’s side; the crowd parted for them as they walked the interminable distance across the yard to the front of the Smials. Goldi followed, her older sisters Rosie and Elanor flanking her. Reginard met them when they reached the front of the crowd. He took Pimpernel’s hand while her grown sons, come from Bridgefields after the shake to render aid to the Tooks and support to their mother, stood protectively about her and her daughters and younger sons clustered close.

 ‘They were breaking into your suite first and then the Thain’s beyond,’ he said.

 ‘Of course,’ Pimpernel said. Her face was serene, her voice calm. She’d lost her Ferdi a thousand times over again in her mind these past few days, but in the face of reality she felt only numb. At last the waiting would be over and her Ferdi would be set free.

Diamond’s grip on Nell’s arm tightened as a blanket-shrouded litter was slowly carried out. Nell merely nodded. She had been expecting this. Nearly a week without eating, and another three days buried in the rubble; what hobbit could have survived it? Goldi’s father Sam, perhaps, and the legendary Frodo Baggins, but that was the stuff of stories... There had been no lembas to sustain Ferdibrand.

Mardibold Took stepped forward to speak to the litter bearers; they stopped and he lifted the corner of the blanket, shook his head sadly, and turned away. Diamond gasped, her fingers digging into Nell’s arm. ‘Look!’ she whispered.

A scrap of frock the green of new leaves protruded from under the blanket. ‘The watcher,’ Nell breathed. ‘It is Blossom! But what of my Ferdibrand?’

 ‘I’ll find out,’ Regi said, patting her arm. The steward strode forward to meet the litter bearers on their slow journey to the pavilion where the dead were being prepared for burial. He spoke as they walked along, then trotted back.

 ‘What is it?’ Diamond said. She had her arm around Nell now, for Pippin’s sister was white and trembling.

 ‘Blossom was the only one they found in your apartments, Nell,’ Regi said. ‘They’re breaking through the wall into the Thain’s suite next.’

 ‘Not there!’ Nell whispered. ‘Ferdi was not there! What can it mean?’

Less than an hour later another blanketed body was borne out of the entrance and Regi went to enquire. ‘Farry?’ Diamond said, her face tight with dread. She stepped forward as Mardibold lifted the blanket, but the old healer gave a cry of grief and sagged back into the arms of the hobbits around him.

 ‘Telebold,’ Regi said heavily, returning to the front of the crowd. The tutor was Mardi’s eldest son, Reginard’s brother-in-love. Rosamunda, who’d come to stand on Diamond’s other side, began to weep. Regi put his arms around his wife and kissed her. ‘Go to Mardi,’ he told his wife gently. Nodding, she stumbled away, surrounded by her daughters only, for her sons were among the rescuers deep in the Smials.

 ‘Then where...?’ Diamond said, feeling the same disorientation that had assaulted Nell earlier.

 ‘They were not in the study, not anywhere in the suite,’ Regi said. ‘The delvers are breaking into the corridor beyond to continue the search.’

It seemed to be an eternity of waiting. No messengers came out to report news that was good or ill. The Sun shone down on the watchers, the breeze caressed them, birds wheeled in the sky above. It was a beautiful day.

At last hobbits bearing litters emerged from the entrance, but... Diamond gave a gasp. Though the hobbits being borne along were wrapped in blankets, they were not shrouded! She broke from the comforting hands that grasped her and ran forward, belatedly followed by Pimpernel and Reginard.

 ‘Farry!’ she gasped. ‘Merigrin! Borry! Berry!’ Tears of joy flooded her cheeks.

 ‘Don’t cry, Mama,’ Berry said from his litter. ‘Tell them to let me up; I’m not hurt!’

 ‘You let us be the judge of that, young hobbit,’ Sigimand said sternly, though the effect was rather spoilt by the broad smile on his face at finding all of the Thain’s sons breathing and three of them awake and talking!

 ‘Ferdi! My love!’ Nell was sobbing beside the last litter. She was hugging the chancellor as best she could, with him wrapped up in blankets as he was.

 ‘Nell, please,’ Siggy said, moving to her side. ‘He’s dangerously weak. We need to get some sustenance into him without delay.’ Nell released her husband and walked beside him as the litters were borne to the Thain’s pavilion, her children following.

Diamond ran ahead, as light on her feet as if she were a young girl once more. She thrust her way into the pavilion crying, ‘They’re safe! Pippin, they’re found!’

 ‘Farry too?’ Merry said, starting up from his cousin’s side.

 ‘Farry too!’ Diamond confirmed, dropping to her knees beside her husband and taking up his hand to press her lips to it. His fingers tightened on hers. ‘Do you hear me, love?’ she said.

 ‘I hear,’ Pippin said without opening his eyes. ‘All are safe? But Farry...’

 ‘He’s breathing,’ Diamond said. ‘While there’s breath, there’s life.’

 ‘You might take the words to heart,’ Merry said to Pippin. ‘You’re breathing as well, you know.’

 ‘Yes,’ Pippin answered, but then the first of the litters was brought in and laid down nearby.

 ‘Da!’ Berry said. ‘Tell them to let me up! I’m not hurt!’

 ‘Blessings never cease,’ Pippin murmured, a smile creasing his face for the first time since the disaster.

 ‘Borry has a broken arm which Ferdi set, Meri and Farry were buried and dug out again, and...’

 ‘Ferdi?’ Pippin said, opening his eyes.

 ‘He’s weak from lack of nourishment, but they’re forcing fluids down him even as we speak,’ Siggy said with a nod towards the furthest litter. Two assistants were holding Ferdibrand so that Evergreen could pour rich broth down the tube she’d eased into place. Within a few moments, if he kept the broth down, she’d follow it with a thin custard of milk, eggs, and sweetening, foods designed to give strength and energy. ‘We can do the same for you, if you like, Sir, or you can take your nourishment the conventional way.’

Merry helped prop pillows behind Pippin and Diamond held a mug of broth to her husband’s lips. ‘Strong and salty, my dear, just what you need,’ she said.

 ‘Plenty more where that came from,’ Siggy said with a pat for Diamond’s shoulder. ‘You just sing out when he’s ready for more.’ He rose to give each of the Thain’s sons a more complete examination. Their sisters flitted among them, cooing and chattering by turns.

There was a disturbance on the far side of the pavilion; Evergreen’s voice rose in protest. ‘Ferdi, no! Don’t...’ as the chancellor choked, struggled in the assistants’ grasp, and reached up to pull the tube out. ‘He’s awakening,’ the healer added unnecessarily. ‘Let him be.’

The assistants laid him gently down and Nell moved closer. ‘Ferdibrand?’ she said, taking up his hand. ‘I’m here, Ferdi, my own.’

 ‘My Nell,’ he breathed. His eyes opened and a look of wonder bloomed on his face.

 ‘You’re safe, my love,’ Nell said. ‘You’re out of the darkness.’

 ‘Yes,’ he whispered, his hand rising to trace her features with a trembling finger. ‘I am.’

 Nell gasped as she realised his eyes were moving across her face, drinking her in. ‘Ferdi-love?’ she whispered. ‘Do you see? You can see me?’

 ‘You are as beautiful as the day I first loved you,’ Ferdi said softly, reaching with both hands now. Pimpernel fell forward upon him and the two embraced, weeping together.

 ‘Da?’ Rudi said behind Pimpernel. Nell sat up again.

‘Rudi?’ Ferdi said to their eldest. ‘My but you’ve grown since last I saw you. And this is Freddy? And Cori?’ He named each of the children as his eyes fell upon them, his face bright with joy and wonder.

Merry patted Diamond’s arm, gave Pippin a gentle jab. ‘I’ll be back,’ he said and rose. Looking across the room, he’d seen Legolas at Faramir’s side, a serious expression on the usually cheerful face. Crossing quickly, he crouched by the Wood Elf, murmuring, ‘What is it?’

 ‘He breathes, but he is merely a shell. His spirit is gone; Faramir is not here,’ Legolas said softly with a look of grief.

 ‘While there’s breath there’s life,’ Merry said, confused, but Gimli who’d followed the litters shook his head.

 ‘When a Dwarf is buried, sometimes he is not breathing when he’s dug out,’ he said. ‘We start him breathing again, and he may waken and be perfectly well, or...’

 ‘While there’s breath there’s life,’ Goldi said stubbornly. She’d been chafing Farry’s hand and entreating him to speak; now she looked up and said to the Master, ‘Marry us.’

 ‘What?’ Merry said, confused.

 ‘It’s time for the wedding,’ Goldi said, sniffing back her tears. ‘The Sun is at her highest, shining her blessing upon the land. Today is our wedding day.’ She looked down at Farry again. ‘Isn’t it, beloved? You said you would not miss this day for all the world.’

 ‘Yes,’ Estella said, standing behind her husband, her hand resting on his shoulder. ‘It is time for the wedding.’

Chapter 18. As Long as Life Shall Last

The Elf and the Dwarf watched in wonder as the hobbits made hasty preparations for the wedding. Lanterns were hung in the branches of an ancient oak tree behind the Thain’s stables, maidens and lasses went out into the Celebration Field to pluck wildflowers that were rapidly braided into garlands, the cooks of course were already cooking for hobbits must eat, disaster or wedding or whatever may come.

Goldi washed her face and arms, Elanor combed out her sister's golden curls and styled them in a high-braided crown, Rose tucked bright flowers in here and there and added a garland for the last flourish.

Diamond tenderly washed Faramir’s face and hands and brushed his hair. There was not much she could do about the dirt on his clothes but then none of the Tooks was wearing his best, and none had bathed since the morning of the first shake.

Legolas was sitting with Pippin, encouraging him to sip yet another cup of meaty broth when the Master of Buckland entered the pavilion. ‘Are we ready?’ Merry asked quietly, without the broad smile he usually wore when officiating at a wedding.

 ‘Quite,’ Diamond said briskly. She gestured to the healers’ assistants who lifted Pippin’s litter; she held his hand as she walked by his side, following Merry to the old oak. Mistress Rose rode sideways upon a gentle old pony led by Fastred, Sam steadying her.

 Faramir’s and Goldi’s brothers and sisters followed their parents. After them came a crowd of sombre tweens and unmarried hobbits, bearing Goldi on their shoulders. The rest of the hobbits, all who were not needed for other tasks such as sitting with the injured or cooking the feast, joined the procession. Legolas and Gimli joined the throng of wedding guests.

Robin Bolger, his head bandaged and one arm in a sling, bent over Faramir’s litter. ‘Farry?’ he said. ‘Are you ready?’ He nodded to the litter-bearers, who gently lifted the son of the Thain. Robin held Farry’s hand as they walked along. He’d heard the whispers amongst the Tooks, that Farry was slipping away, that Goldi sought to honour him before he breathed his last. He breathed deeply and set his chin in determination. He’d do Farry proud.

The crowd parted silently to let Robin and Faramir’s litter through. The bearers laid the litter down before Master Merry and stepped back. Goldi stood between her parents, holding a hand of each. Robin walked up to her and tried to smile. ‘Here we are,’ he said.

She nodded, blinking back tears, then turned to kiss first her mother, then her father. Robin took her hand from Sam’s, and Mistress Rose released Goldi’s other hand, whispering, ‘Grace go with you, daughter.’ Head high, hair ablaze in the sunshine, Goldi followed Robin to Farry’s litter, settling to the ground beside him so that Robin could join her hand with Faramir’s. With a kiss for Goldi’s cheek, Robin rose and stepped back to witness the vows.

Merry cleared his throat. There was no need to call for silence. He raised his voice to say, We are gathered here to witness the joining of two souls, two spirits, two hearts... two families into one that never existed before this moment.

Is there any here who can raise an objection to this union?

As Merry waited the requisite three breaths, Legolas wanted to call out a protest: how could they call this a wedding? How could Goldi... but Gimli rumbled deep in his throat and nudged the Elf.

 ‘For life,’ the Dwarf said so low that only Legolas heard, but he understood. Hobbits married only once, even if their chosen partner should die early. Hobbits who’d given their affections very seldom would marry at all, if a true-love should die before the wedding day, but remained a bachelor or old maid until joined once more with the beloved in death.

Goldi raised her chin, speaking the vows in a clear voice, squeezing Faramir’s hand.

...to seize each moment, to live to the fullest the love that's between us... To refuse no joy set before us... That each day might be a golden coin to add to the treasure trove of our love... Until I've drunk the last drop in the cup, and no more days remain to me ...As long as life shall last, until I take my last breath of the sweet air.

There was a moment of silence when the vows were complete, a time for all the participants to ponder anew the depth of the meaning of the words.

'As long as life shall last...' Master Merry repeated solemnly, then added, 'Ladies and gentlehobbits, allow me to present to you a new family of the Shire!'

The wedding guests stood in silence, while Goldi bent to lay a kiss upon Faramir’s lips, letting the tears flow for the first time since he’d been found.

‘In any event,’ Frodo said, ‘You wandered too soon. It’s not your time. I was sent to meet you, to send you back.’

  ‘Back?’ Faramir said, confused. He wasn’t sure where back was.

  ‘You’re needed,’ Frodo said. ‘For one thing, Pippin has been so very badly injured, you know, and it’s not his time either, but he’ll very likely die of grief should he lose you now.’

‘Da...’ Farry whispered, feeling a tug at his heart. Back.

  ‘And Goldilocks,’ Frodo went on, breaking off suddenly with a thoughtful look. ‘I saw her, you know,’ he said conversationally, ‘before I left Samwise behind. I told him she would be coming along one of these days, and here she is, all grown up and about to marry!’

‘He wrote about that,’ Faramir said, his sense of unreality growing. His body was becoming heavier. The light around him was dimming, and the air no longer blessed his lungs but burned.

‘She’s waiting for you,’ Frodo said. ‘You’re to be the next Thain, and the Thain after will be of your blood, and hers, but that cannot be if you stay here...’ The words grew ever fainter. Faramir struggled to open eyelids grown strangely heavy, and to hear through the rushing sound in his ears.

‘I wish you joy, Faramir, and boundless blessing,’ Frodo’s voice lingered even after Faramir could no longer see him or the bright world surrounding. ‘Laugh long, live long, love forever!’

As Goldi rose from the kiss she gasped. Farry's eyes were open, staring at the bright sky! He took a shuddering breath, and another, and then... He blinked, he looked at her, he smiled! ‘You look beautiful,’ he murmured, but then a frown crossed his face. ‘Goldi,’ he said worriedly. ‘It’s bad luck for me to see you before the wedding day.’

 ‘It is our wedding day, my love,’ she said softly.

 ‘Our wedding day?’ he said, confused. ‘But... it was only a few moments... how could...?’ He struggled to sit up and the Tooks surged forward with hopeful murmurs.

 ‘Farry!’ Diamond cried, and laughing and crying she was beside him, hugging him fiercely. Pippin raised himself up on an elbow, trying to get up to go to his son, but Merry pushed him down again, gesturing to two Tooks to take up the litter and bring Pippin closer to Faramir.

Legolas knelt by Faramir. ‘You were sent back,’ he said in wonder.

 ‘Yes,’ Faramir said simply. ‘How did you...?’ The question would have to wait as he was thronged by joyful hobbits all wishing to welcome him back from the dead. Through it all Goldi held tight to his hand.

2/21/04

Chapter 19. To Have and To Hold

They lay entwined beneath the ancient oak, looking at the lanterns shining like promises in the branches. They were the only hobbits left on this side of the stables; all the rest had gone to the Celebration Field, to the pavilions there made ready for sleeping. Faramir sighed and Goldi’s arms tightened about him. ‘What is it, my love?’ she asked softly.

 ‘I had the oddest dream,’ he said slowly.

 ‘Just now?’ she said in surprise, and he chuckled.

 ‘No, earlier, just before I awakened to your kiss,’ he said. ‘Fancy sleeping through your own wedding!’ She smiled and nuzzled against his chest.

After awhile she spoke. ‘What dream?’ she asked.

 ‘I dreamed I was dead,’ he said slowly, and she stiffened. Caressing her back reassuringly, he soothed her with soft words until she relaxed again.

 ‘What was it like?’ she asked sleepily.

 ‘It was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen,’ he said.

 ‘More beautiful than the Green Hills?’ she asked.

 ‘Greener,’ he said. ‘And the sky was bluer and the flowers brighter and everything... o Goldi, you cannot imagine how lovely it was. There are not the words to describe the place, or how it felt to be there. I felt whole, and well, and...’ He fell silent.

 ‘I’m surprised you didn’t want to stay,’ Goldi said at last.

 ‘But I did! I wanted to stay ever so much Goldi,’ he said honestly, for they were always truthful with each other. He held her more tightly then. ‘Even if it meant leaving you for a little while, for I knew I’d see you again ere long.’

 ‘How could you know that?’ Goldi said. She gasped, frightened, and pushed herself away, to look into his eyes. ‘O Farry,’ she whispered. ‘Is it that I’m to die soon? Must this joy end so quickly?’

 ‘No, no, not at all!’ he was quick to reassure, pulling her close again, rubbing his hands up and down her back until her shivers subsided. ‘It is just that time is so different there, my love. So different,’ he mused, adding in a wondering tone, ‘so different... a lifetime here is but an hour there, I think. Though Frodo did look as if he were ninety or more, just as he would if he’d stayed in Middle-earth... Perhaps the time only seems to go slowly there. In any event, I had only a few breaths of that marvellous air, yet you tell me I was lost since the day before yesterday.’

Goldi did not ponder the paradox of time but seized on the name. ‘Frodo?’ she said. ‘He was there?’

 ‘He said he’d come to send me back,’ Faramir said. ‘I didn’t know where back was! I suppose he meant back to Middle-earth, back to life, back to...’ He kissed her once more, suddenly very glad to be where he was, not regretting leaving the shining dream behind. ‘Back to you,’ he whispered.

 ‘What was he like?’ Goldi said, resting her head on his chest. ‘Was Bilbo there?’

 ‘No, just Frodo,’ Faramir said, thinking back to the fading dream. ‘He was... old, as I said, old as a gaffer but somehow young at the same time; I don’t know how to describe him, Goldi. He was lively, and merry, and... well. He was well, Goldi, as if he’d left all troubles behind and lived in peace and joy.’ He laughed suddenly. ‘I asked him if he were dead, and he said, ‘Not yet! Not until...’

 ‘Not until what?’ Goldi said, raising her head to look into his eyes again. She remembered the end of the Red Book, and the conversation between Frodo and Sam before they came to the Grey Havens, though the Gamgees never spoke of it. It was part of a story in a book was all, there was naught to it. Or was there?

 ‘I don’t know,’ Faramir said dismissively. ‘He didn’t say what he was waiting for. He seemed more concerned about sending me back, for your sake and my Da’s.’

 ‘Yes,’ Goldi said. ‘He nearly died, you know.’

 ‘I know,’ Faramir said softly, hugging her closer. ‘I know.’ He took a deep breath. ‘But he didn’t die, and he’s trying now, working with the healers instead of turning his face away.’

 ‘Yes,’ Goldi said. ‘It was a near thing, but you returned in time.’

 ‘In good time, I’d say,’ Farry said in a completely different tone. Goldi could not suppress a giggle as he pulled the blanket over them again.

***

 ‘Still awake, Ferdi-love?’ Nell whispered, raising her head from her dearest one’s chest. Ferdi’s eyes were open, fixed on the stars above them. They’d moved their pallet from the pavilion in order to sleep under the open sky.

 ‘They are just as they always were,’ he said. ‘Just as they always were.’

 ‘O my love,’ she said as her arms tightened around him. ‘Of course they are. Go to sleep, dearest.’

 ‘What if...?’ Ferdi said and stopped.

 ‘ “What if” what?’ Nell said, and when he did not answer at once she raised herself up to look into his face.

When he did answer he spoke low as if ashamed to voice his fear. ‘What if I waken and they’re gone again?’ He took a shaky breath, stroking back the curly lock that fell into her face as she hovered above him.

 ‘O Ferdi,’ she said. ‘They will always be there, whether you see them or not... and so will I be.’ She laid herself down beside him once more, holding him close, kissing him and softly singing to him by turns until his eyes drifted closed at last and he slept in the warmth of her embrace.

***

 ‘Drink up, Pippin,’ Diamond said in her no-nonsense voice.

 ‘Every other sensible hobbit is asleep,’ her husband protested. ‘Why are you forcing more broth into me? I think I’m about to float away as it is! And salty! It just makes me more thirsty!’

 ‘Good!’ Diamond said. ‘Then you’ll drink more!’ He’d lost a dangerous amount of blood, and had turned his face away from all the healers' efforts up until the time he heard young Beregrin speak and he could hope again.

 ‘Why are you torturing me?’ he complained, pushing the cup away, but she was just as determined, resisting until he had to give in for the weakness that ruled him. As the cup reached his lips he sipped automatically, then said, ‘Why are you so angry, love? Farry’s well and married, I’m on the mend, all the hobbits are out of the Smials and Everard and Gimli are bursting with plans to rebuild better and stronger than the old manse ever was, and you’re...’

 ‘Me!’ Diamond said in outrage. ‘Me? How about you?’

 ‘Me?’ Pippin said more softly. He took the cup from Diamond, nearly spilling the contents as his hand shook, and put it down beside him. ‘What about me?’

 ‘You—you—’ she sputtered. He waited patiently. Finally she was able to continue. ‘If you ever give me such a scare again, I’ll... I’ll... never forgive you!’

 ‘Never is a long time,’ he said mildly.

 ‘As if it wasn’t bad enough to think all our sons dead,’ she said, tears flooding her eyes, ‘and then you! Turning your face away, giving up the fight... As if it wasn’t bad enough, and then to think of losing you as well!’ She couldn’t continue, but turned away and buried her face in her arms.

 ‘O Diamond-love,’ he said softly, but when he would have sat up to embrace her she unburied herself and pushed him back against the pillows again.

 ‘That’s all I need,’ she snapped, ‘for you to get up and burst your stitches and start to bleed again. Stay put!’

  ‘Yes, dear,’ he said, uncharacteristically meek. She took advantage of the moment to pick up the cup and bring it to his mouth; he drained the contents and settled back with a sigh.

 ‘Your colour’s a little better,’ she said softly. He lifted a hand to cup her cheek; she covered it with one of her hands and leaned into his touch. ‘Promise me something,’ she said.

 ‘Anything, my love,’ he answered, and she knew that if it were in his power he’d be true to his promise.

 ‘Promise me that you’ll not die before I do,’ she whispered. ‘I couldn’t bear it.’

 ‘O Diamond,’ he said brokenly, and suddenly she was lying on the pallet beside him and they were holding each other as if they’d never let go.

***

They lay entwined beneath the ancient oak, looking at the lanterns shining like promises in the branches. Goldi sighed and Farry’s arms tightened about her. ‘What is it, my love?’ he asked softly.

 ‘Perhaps we should do it all over,’ she said slowly. ‘It was hardly a proper wedding after all. No wedding breakfast, no songs, no toasts, no vows...’

 ‘You didn’t say the vows?’ he said, half sitting up in shock. Perhaps they weren’t properly married after all.

 ‘I said the vows, beloved, I did indeed,’ Goldi reassured him hastily, pulling him down beside her again. ‘But you...’

 ‘Ah, is that all that worries your golden head, my sweet?’ he chuckled, drawing her hand to his lips and tenderly kissing the tip of her thumb. ‘Easy enough to remedy.’

 ‘What do you mean?’ Goldi asked. She had never heard of a dying hobbit coming back to life in the middle of a wedding before.

Faramir pulled her close, nestling her head under his chin. He sighed and began to speak softly. ‘On my honour, before these witnesses...’ He slowly waved an arm to encompass the winking lanterns and the stars that peeped through the canopy of the ancient tree. ‘I most solemnly swear to give my heart and my head and all I possess to Goldilocks Gamgee, to hold nothing back of myself or my affections...’

Goldilocks sighed and snuggled against him as he continued to the end of the vows. ‘...to seize each moment, to live to the fullest the love that's between us... To refuse no joy set before us... That each day might be a golden coin to add to the treasure trove of our love... Until I've drunk the last drop in the cup, and no more days remain to me ...As long as life shall last, until I take my last breath of the sweet air.’

 ‘As long as life shall last,’ she murmured.

He kissed the top of her head, adding simply, ‘And after.’

Chapter 20. Epilogue

A few days after Mid-year’s day a cloud of hobbits floated down the Great East Road on pony-back, in waggons and in coaches. Young hobbits darted in and out of the group, laughing and joining in the songs shared by all.

 ‘Just which ones are the newlyweds?’ Pippin said to Diamond as they rode in an open carriage, the top folded down to allow the Sun to share the ride. He nodded at his sister. Nell had left her seat in one of the coaches to ride on the saddle before her beloved Ferdibrand, encircled by his arms, alternately laughing at his witticisms and joining the singing.

 ‘The ones we left home,’ Diamond said. She sighed. ‘Imagine little Faramir in charge of the Great Smials while we are off gallivanting with the King!’

 ‘The earth trembles underfoot at the thought,’ Pippin said, then added, ‘No, wait; that’s an aftershake.’

 ‘Bite your tongue!’ Diamond cried, but Pippin only laughed.

 ‘If Farry does a proper job let us go to Gondor next,’ he said.

 ‘Why not?’ Diamond said recklessly, holding tighter to his arm and resting her head on his shoulder. ‘It sounds like a lovely plan. We can travel South with the King when he leaves the Lake after Frodo’s birthday.’

 ‘Between Farry and Robin and Ferdi and Regi, the Smials ought to be there when we get back,’ Pippin said.

 ‘Back?’ Ferdi said, reining his pony close to the carriage. ‘You’re not going off to Gondor without me, cousin!’

 ‘What’s that?’ Pippin said.

 ‘My Nell has never been to Gondor,’ Ferdi said, ‘and if you are going we’re coming with you! Besides, I’d like to see my old cousin Fredegar again. He says he finds Ithilien very agreeable.’

 ‘His last letter made it sound so lovely,’ Pimpernel sighed from his lap. ‘What do you say, husband? Shall we go there, perhaps to stay?’

Ferdi gave this serious consideration, as he did all his wife’s questions, while Pippin fought an absurd urge to hold his breath. ‘Not this time,’ he said at last.

 ‘This time?’ Pippin began, but Ferdi wasn’t finished.

 ‘Your brother, you see, has threatened to step down if I abandon him,’ Ferdi informed Nell.

 ‘No!’ Pimpernel protested.

 ‘His exact words,’ Ferdi said smugly. ‘ “The day you go is the day I go,” he said. I have a knack for remembering such things.’

 ‘Yes you do,’ his wife murmured, planting a kiss on his chin as he continued.

 ‘I could hardly be so cruel as to throw Farry into the Thainship when he’s only newly wed! Bad enough that his father is running off to the Lake and leaving the weight of the Shire on Farry’s shoulders for the remainder of the Summer...’ he looked darkly at the Thain, ‘or longer.’

Though he knew it was pointless to answer Ferdi in this mood, nevertheless Pippin tried. ‘I...’ he began.

Ferdi continued as if the Thain had not spoken. ‘I suppose we’ll have to go to Gondor just to make sure the Thain and Mistress arrive safely and are not pressed to stay too long.’

 ‘Yes, we’d want to see them safely back to the Shire again,’ Nell said.

 ‘We’ll pass the coldest months there, I think,’ Ferdi said, ‘and start back home when Spring begins to bloom in the Shire. What say you, wife?’

 ‘Don’t I have a say in this?’ Pippin said, quirking an eyebrow.

 ‘Why should you? You’re only Thain after all, and more than that...’ Ferdi said in a superior manner.

 ‘More than that?’ Diamond said dryly.

 ‘More than that, he’s a younger cousin!’ Ferdi said. ‘He needs to respect his elders, and all that sort of thing.’

 ‘Good of you to keep reminding him,’ Diamond said. ‘He forgets, you know.’

 ‘I’m terribly forgetful,’ Pippin said, lifting the palm of her hand and laying a kiss in the centre. ‘Don’t know what I’d do without all the help I get.’

They reached the Brandywine Bridge just at teatime that day and were greeted by the Master of Buckland, his Mistress, and a host of King’s Men in black and silver. ‘Tea is laid by the River,’ Merry said.

 ‘A picnic! How delightful!’ Ferdi answered, giving the reins of his pony to a respectful guardsman and lifting his wife down to stand at his side.

 ‘Everything’s delightful,’ Pimpernel observed, twining her fingers through his.

 ‘Of course,’ Ferdi maintained. ‘As long as I have you by my side, it always will be!’ His eyes lit up as a tall figure approached them. ‘Ah Elessar!’ he cried. ‘It is good to see you!’

 ‘It is indeed,’ the King said with a smile for the doughty chancellor. ‘It is good to see you see!’ He’d been grieved when Ferdi’s encounter with ruffians had left the bold hobbit blind and helpless... no, not helpless. He’d never be that.

 ‘I can see why they made you King,’ Ferdi said. ‘You have a way with words, you know.’

 ‘Do I?’ Elessar laughed. ‘I shall have to make you one of my Counsellors, I think.’

 ‘I shall be much too busy,’ Ferdi informed him loftily. ‘You Men will just have to muddle along as best you can.’

 ‘Strider!’ Pippin said, alighting from the carriage.

 ‘Pippin,’ the King returned, taking the outstretched hand in his. His healer’s eye took quick stock and he nodded satisfaction. ‘You look much better than I’d expected.’

 ‘Reports of my death are always exaggerated,’ Pippin said. ‘You ought to know that by now.’

 ‘I must admit I was glad to receive the report of your recovery,’ Elessar said gravely.

 ‘Well I’m about to perish of hunger,’ Mistress Rose said, coming up to the group with Samwise.

 ‘We cannot have that!’ the King laughed. ‘The Queen awaits us by the River. The feast is laid!’ He had a hug for Sam before they walked down the grassy bank to the laden tables, groaning with food, and the blankets spread for the feasters’ comfort.

There were singing and talk and eating and laughter, one at a time and all mixed together, until the Sun began to sink in the West and many of the celebrants dozed off, replete with fellowship and food.

The King and his Counsellors sat a little apart, talking quietly of business. While much damage had been done, the hobbits had been busy as bees making repairs. ‘And so you can safely come away to the Lake for a time,’ Elessar said in satisfaction, sitting back to light his pipe. ‘Good, I’m glad to hear that.’

 ‘Not just the Lake,’ Pippin said, drawing on his own pipe. ‘How about if we travel to Gondor with you for the Winter? Return home after New Year’s?’

 ‘That would be wonderful,’ the King said, his eyes lighting with pleasure. ‘You too, Merry? Samwise?’

 Sam shook his head. ‘I don’t know,’ he said slowly.

Pippin nudged him, and for a moment Frodo’s mischievous little cousin shone from his eyes. ‘Surely you can get away for the Winter,’ he said, and Sam remembered how Mr. Pippin’s cousins never could deny him anything when he set his mind on it. ‘I know you cannot come away to the Lake, what with all the festivals and faires you must open, but after the harvest festivals...’

 ‘What about you, Merry?’ Sam said to put him off. He’d set Pippin to teasing Merry to go, and he’d be left in peace about the matter.

 ‘It sounds grand,’ Merry said. ‘I think Estella could use a warm, mild winter for a change. She’s worked herself thin these past weeks.’

Sam sighed. No help there. ‘I’ll think about it,’ he said. Come to think of it, he would like to go South one more time in his life, perhaps stop in the Golden Wood to remember the Lady, walk the glades of Ithilien again...

Pippin struck him on the arm with a gentle fist. ‘You do that,’ he said. ‘Just make sure you come to the right decision.’

 ‘Your pipe’s going out,’ Sam observed, and gained a few moments peace while Pippin tended to his pipe.

Settling back, Pippin puffed in silence, evidently deep in thought. A fish jumped in the River and he looked up, saying suddenly, ‘Farry told me the most interesting thing the day after the wedding.’

 ‘What was it?’ Merry asked. Sam, on the other hand, had a good idea, having had a rather startling conversation with Goldi on that same day.

 ‘He said he saw Frodo,’ Pippin said slowly.

 ‘What, in a dream?’ Merry said.

 ‘Merry, do you remember in the Dearth, the dream you thought you had?’ Pippin said. ‘Perhaps it wasn’t a dream after all.’

 ‘What?’ Merry laughed. ‘I dreamed I was talking to Frodo.’

 ‘Farry said he saw Frodo,’ Pippin said. ‘I’m not completely convinced he was dreaming.’

 ‘What do you mean?’ Sam said, while Elessar sat and smoked in silence.

 ‘Frodo... Farry said he looked as he might had he stayed in the Shire,’ Pippin said thoughtfully. ‘Like an old gaffer,’ he said. He chuckled. ‘I cannot imagine Frodo as a gaffer, can you?’

 ‘Did he say anything?’ Merry said, interested.

 ‘He said Farry wandered too soon, that he’d been sent to...’ Pippin fumbled for the words. ‘He’d been sent, imagine that,’ he said with a faraway look. ‘I wonder who sent him?’

 ‘Why was he sent?’ Merry said patiently. He was used to bringing his younger cousin back from a side trail.

 ‘To send Farry back to us,’ Pippin said. ‘He said Farry’d wandered too soon, that he was to be the next Thain, and his son after him.’ A look of wonder crossed his face. ‘I’m going to have a grandson!’

 ‘What, now?’ Merry said, and Sam prepared to congratulate him while Elessar chuckled softly.

 ‘What? O no,’ Pippin said hastily, coming back to the present. ‘It’s early days yet. No, but Farry had to come back, you see, or he’d have no son to follow him.’ He looked now to the King.

 ‘Is it true, Strider?’ he asked almost plaintively.

 ‘Is what true, Pippin?’ the King said gently.

 ‘Did he see Frodo?’ Pippin said. ‘Did he really? He asked Frodo if he were dead, and Frodo laughed and said it wasn’t his time yet. Did Farry see him in truth, Strider? Is Frodo well and happy?’

 ‘From what I’ve learned, living among the Elves,’ Elessar said softly, ‘I’d say there’s a good chance Farry was not dreaming.’

Merry sighed. ‘Perhaps I wasn’t dreaming then, either,’ he said. He remembered Frodo’s smile, the sound of his voice, the peace in his face, all shadow and sorrow gone.

Elessar nodded, while Sam sat back again, paying strict attention to his pipe. It was true! Frodo was alive, and well, and waiting... On a blanket nearby, Rose stirred and murmured in her sleep and Sam’s heart settled back into place. Not yet, he told himself, and not soon, I hope, for where Mr Frodo is it seems like no time at all. I don’t have to worry about him all alone there, waiting... Not soon, he thought again, but someday.

As the Sun sank beyond the River a cool breeze chilled the hobbits sleeping on the bank and they began to sit up and stretch. ‘Time for supper!’ Estella called, ‘and bed! The pavilions are ready, the soup is hot and the beds are turned down,’ she said. ‘You’ve had a long journey, and it’s farther to the Lake! Time to rest, for morning will come early!’

 ‘Indeed,’ the King said, laughing. ‘The days are long this time of year, and morning will be here before we know it.’

 ‘Quite right,’ Estella said, satisfied. She took Arwen by the hand. ‘Come along, my Queen. Let us lead out, lest our husbands linger talking and let the food get cold!’

Arwen laughed and allowed herself to be led, calling back over her shoulder, 'Come along or we'll eat all and leave you the crumbs!'

 'We'll make a hobbit of you yet,' Estella was heard to say.

 'A lovely prospect,' the Queen answered. 'I cannot think of a more delightful idea!'

Sam rose and went to the blanket where Rose still slept. He kissed her cheek. ‘Sam?’ she said sleepily, extending a hand which he took in his warm grasp. He firmly put thoughts of Mr Frodo behind.

Drawing a deep breath, he said, ‘Well, I’m back.’