Chapter 1. The Morning After

'Time to waken.' Merry's voice was flat, not cheerful as his usual mien.

Pippin groaned and tried to pull the pillow over his head, but was hampered by the fact that his older cousin had a firm grip on said pillow. 'Go away,' the besieged hobbit moaned, keeping an arm protectively over his eyes. 'What're you doing, rousting me out of the bed before the dawning?'

'It is half-past elevenses,' Merry said crisply. 'And you have a great deal of preparing to do. Much too much, to be sleeping the day away.'

'Preparing for what?' Pippin said from under the shelter of his arm, but then he bolted suddenly upright, though it made his head spin. 'Is today the day?' he demanded. 'Are my parents to be arriving, then... och, if my da finds me still abed halfway through the day there'll be the Wood Elves to pay...'

'Your parents are due at the Hall on the morrow,' Merry said.

Pippin sank back onto the bed with a thump, seeing as how Merry had jerked the pillow completely away and tossed it across the room. 'O I thought it just might be tomorrow already,' he said. 'Just my luck...'

'Luck of the Tooks,' Merry said, and as Pippin tried to pull the coverlet over his head to shut out the light, he deftly stripped the bedcoverings from the bed, tossing them to the floor as well.

'What is this?' Pippin said, pulling his legs up and hugging himself into a shivering ball. 'It's cold!'

'The better to waken your wits,' Merry said, grim once more, tossing a clean shirt at his cousin. 'You're going to need all you can muster this day.'

'Why?' Pippin asked plaintively. He uncurled and pulled the shirt on, fumbling with the buttons. 'My head...' he groaned.

'Your own fault,' Merry said. 'You would break out the Gaffer's homebrew, that Sam gifted us for our smial-warming. If you'd only waited until I got back from the Hall with the fresh supply of brandy...'

'I was merely doing my duty as host,' Pippin said. 'We have the reputation for excellent parties, you know, and I mean to keep it up. After all, look at the sparkling company we have gathered...'

'But I think you were the only one to drink the stuff,' Merry said, tossing Pippin his breeches and turning to pour water from the ewer into the washbowl. 'Freddy's glass was nearly full, and the few who had empty glasses when I arrived had not even tried the homebrew, but told you they'd wait for the brandy.'

'It's perfectly good drink,' Pippin said, rising slowly to wobble over to the dressing table. Merry steadied him as he splashed the water over face and neck and took up the drying-cloth. 'It sort of... grows on you.' He chuckled at his gardener's joke, and winced.

'That's why you had several glasses, I suppose,' Merry said. 'Got better the more you drank.'

'Precisely,' Pippin said, straightening. 'Marvellous drink.'

'It does a wonderful job of taking the tarnish off silver,' Merry said, 'but I wouldn't call it "drink".'

Pippin paid no mind to this, simply ran his hand over his head to complete his toilet and turned towards the door. 'Well,' he said. 'With my parents due on the morrow I suppose there are a great many preparations in order.'

'Well yes,' Merry said, 'but it's today's preparations that worry me.'

'Today's preparations?' Pippin said, puzzled.

'We're having guests to tea,' Merry informed him.

'Who's coming?' Pippin said, perking up. He was still muzzy from the drink, but how he revelled in revelry, so to speak. Merry bore the brunt of the preparations, and Pippin carried the weight of keeping the guests amused, and they shared the clearing up afterwards.

'You tell me,' Merry said, picking up the coverlet and laying it on the bed now that the danger of Pippin's going back to sleep had been averted.

Pippin stared at him and laughed. 'A fine jest!' he said, slapping his knee.

'Fine indeed,' Merry said. 'I have no idea whom to expect, really.'

'Come now, Merry, stuff and nonsense!' Pippin said. 'We're having guests to tea, and you don't know who they are?'

'After we bade our friends and relations farewell, in the wee hours of the night, you informed me...' Merry began, but seemed to have difficulty proceeding. As Pippin stared at him expectantly, he loosened his collar with a nervous finger.

'I informed you...' Pippin said to prompt him.

'You informed me that the prettiest lasses you'd ever seen had been at the party, and you'd told someone to return for tea with her family, wearing ribbons in her hair, if she was interested in a marriage proposal...'

There was a long moment of silence as Pippin stared at Merry. 'You're not serious,' he said at last.

'I am perfectly serious,' Merry said. 'Perfectly and completely.'

'Who is it that I'm about to propose marriage to?' Pippin said with a silly grin on his face.

'I have no idea,' Merry said. 'You were about to tell me when you were overcome by Gaffer Gamgee's homebrew and nearly pitched into the hearth. Good thing I caught you.'

'Good thing,' Pippin murmured, but his grin was fading. 'You are serious, aren't you?'

'Absolutely,' Merry said. 'You wanted the lass to meet your parents on their arrival, and with your coming-of-age later in the year, you'd have just enough time to plan the wedding to take place on the Great Day.'

'I don't believe this,' Pippin said, adding most plaintively, 'Surely this is one of your jests? Or Freddy's?' He clutched at Merry's lapels and stared intently into his cousin's face. 'Berilac put you up to this, didn't he, just because I winked at his sister...'

'It's no jest,' Merry said, 'and because you let the drink overcome you I had to do all the clearing away myself after dragging you to your bed.'

'I didn't let the drink overcome me,' Pippin protested. 'I don't even remember...'

'And that's the trouble,' Merry said. 'Well, there's a bit of baking that needs to be done, as well as sweeping and dusting, perhaps a modicum of polishing...'

'I don't feel so very well,' Pippin said, putting his hand to his head and sitting down once more on the bed.

'Pity,' Merry said with no compassion in his tone. He hauled his younger cousin to his feet and pushed Pippin out of the bedroom. 'Lots of work to be done before teatime...'

'Work...' Pippin echoed.

'It'll do wonders for your head, all the fresh air whilst you're beating the carpets,' Merry said. 'I'll help you hang them on the line...'

And before Pippin knew quite how it happened, he was standing in the yard, carpet-beater in his hand, and Merry was turning back to the little house to bake a few tarts for the special occasion.

'I don't believe this,' Pippin said, giving the nearest carpet a satisfying whack. At least his headache was abating. He thought of Sam, bragging gently as he'd presented the jug of his dad's homebrew. Goes down smooth, and doesn't stay to haunt you next morning... 'I'd beg to differ,' he muttered.

'What was that, cousin?' Merry said too brightly, turning back.

'Naught,' Pippin said shortly, giving the carpet another whack that sent the dust flying.

'Ah,' Merry said wisely. 'O and by the way...'

'Yes?' Pippin said.

Merry smiled. 'Congratulations on your impending nuptials,' he said with disgusting cheerfulness, and then he ducked through Crickhollow's door before Pippin could throw the carpet-beater at him.

Chapter 2. Guess Who's Coming to Tea?

The teacart positively groaned with good things: tiny tea sandwiches with the crusts cut off, and cut into fancy shapes, cream scones, strawberry tarts, and even a grand cake lushly iced with pink flowers and scrolls gracing the top. Merry set the steaming teapot in its place and tenderly tucked the cosy in place.

'Ye'll make someone a fine wife someday, Merry,' Pippin observed gloomily.

His older cousin drew himself up to his full height, which was considerable for a hobbit, and said with great dignity, 'It was the least I could do for your blushing bride.'

At that moment there was a vigorous pull at the bell. 'You've done practically all else, while insisting I bathe and make myself presentable,' Pippin said. He ran a nervous hand over his freshly-trimmed head, also courtesy of Meriadoc. 'Why don't you answer the door as well?'

'I wouldn't dream of it,' Merry said. 'This is your moment to shine, Peregrin Took, and I am going to retire to the kitchen just as any proper hobbitservant and sip my tea in blessed silence.' He'd peek out, of course, to see the bride-to-be, and watch the proceedings. He wondered, not for the first time, how Pippin would manage to talk himself out of this one.

A knock sounded, and Pippin raised his voice. 'Coming!' he called, infusing cheeriness into his tone while casting a glance of utter despair over his shoulder at the retreating Merry. He moved to the door and laid his hand on the knob, pasting on a smile. If he offended this lass, whoever she might be, he might never find a proper lass when the time came to settle down... Jerking the door open, his eyes widened with surprise.

'Freddy!' he said. 'How nice to see you...'

'I do hope we're on time,' Fredegar Bolger said, drawing his sister from behind him. Estella's face was hidden in the shadow of a broad-brimmed bonnet, her hands and forearms were covered with long gloves, and she wore a rather voluminous cloak over her burgeoning skirts.

Pippin wracked his brains for a memory of Estella... Freddy had brought her to last night's party, but she'd stayed in the shadows at the edge of the crowd most of the time. Shy little thing, most likely. He'd seen very little of her since moving to Crickhollow. Her parents kept her close at home.

If there were ribbons in her hair, they were hidden under the hat.

'Umm, come in, come in,' Pippin said, trying for smoothness and managing to stumble over the simplest of welcomes. 'Please,' he added, waving his hand towards the easy chairs on the kitchen side of the parlour. Serve Merry right, to look at their backs for the duration of the visit.

'May I take your cloak?' he stammered, but Freddy shouldered him aside to do the honours. Very protective of his little sister, Freddy was. And so Estella was divested of her cloak, and then she reached up to remove her hat, and a cascade of ribbons broke free, shining against her raven locks in a riot of colour.

Pippin's heart sank. But then the lass turned toward him, her eyes cast down, to bob a courtesy and thank him in a whisper for having her to tea, and he gulped and stammered something, he didn't know quite what. He remembered Merry's estimation of Estella in a recent conversation, 'All elbows and scratched knees,' and he nearly blurted out that she'd certainly grown into her elbows, but restrained himself just in time. 'Please,' he said, indicating one of the chairs. 'Have a seat.'

Freddy pointedly escorted Estella to the chair and seated her. 'How do you take your tea?' Pippin said, as if he hadn't the faintest idea of what he was about.

'Sweet and creamy,' Freddy said, 'for the both of us, of course.'

'Doesn't she have a tongue of her own?' Pippin said, and kicked himself.

Estella was staring down at her intertwined hands, but he thought he saw a dimple at the corner of her mouth, and then her glance lifted to meet his, a quicksilver flash, and he dropped the teacup.

'Stupid of me,' Pippin said, hastening to rectify his clumsiness. Although he spilt the next cup he poured, and forgot to put the milk in Freddy's cup and had to be reminded, and he actually added milk and sugar to his own tea, and sipped it without noticing... he rather congratulated himself on how well he was carrying all this off.

All elbows and scratched knees, he thought to himself in wonder. And lively wit, and jest, as I remember, though Merry never would admit that she bested him at... The thought was interrupted as Freddy made small talk, but Pippin continued to stare, nibbling absently at a biscuit, until he became aware he was staring, and then of course he got up to cut pieces of cake for his guests.

He saw Merry peeping from the kitchen and gave him a broad grin. She's a looker, she is! he telegraphed. The message was intercepted by the young lady in another shining glance, and Pippin was caught in her regard much as a deer might be stunned by a directed lantern beam. He tried to take a breath, but found no air in the vicinity.

Her restraint was explained by Freddy's proximity. It was said he kept his sister on a tight rein, or else that she was subdued in her brother's presence for fear of upsetting him and taxing his damaged heart, reminder of his time in the Lockholes.

Thinking of the mischievous Estella he'd known in the past, he rather thought it was the latter. He couldn't imagine anyone keeping Estella on a tight rein. Though as her lips parted to reveal white and even teeth, he rather thought he wouldn't mind giving it a try...

He blushed at the thought, and missed Freddy's next words. '...parents could not come, of course, for you know they went back to Budge Hall this morning. Estella and I will stay at the Gatehouse Inn tonight and go on in the morning. But you were so earnest in your desire for us to hear your proposition that they agreed I might accompany her to tea...'

Just as Pippin opened his mouth, formulating his thoughts (Really, he could do worse than Estella. She had a lively wit, a loving heart--she'd nursed Freddy devotedly back to health--a tendency to think up all sorts of diverting mischief, and who would've thought she'd turn out so lovely? She was almost elflike in her grace, the tilt of her chin, the depth of her eyes reminding him somehow of Frodo, "fairer than most"...) he was interrupted.

There was a ring at the doorbell, wiping out all the grand-sounding words he wanted to say.

'If--if you'll just excuse me for the moment,' Pippin said.

'Certainly,' Freddy said, taking a sip of his tea, and Estella smiled again, dazzling him for the moment so that he stumbled over his feet as he got up to go to the door.

Chapter 3. An Un-Expected Party

Opening the door, he found Doderic and Ilberic Brandybuck standing soberly on the doorstep, flanking their sister Celandine. 'Hullo, Pippin,' Doderic as the eldest brother and thus spokeshobbit, said gravely. 'We are here, as you invited us to be... Father's down with fever, as you know, and Mum didn't want to leave him, so I've been given leave to hear you out.'

'Hear me...' Pippin echoed, and couldn't help looking towards Freddy and Estella before looking back to his newly arrived guests.

'Well?' Ilberic said. 'Are we going to conduct this business here on the doorstep? I know Crickhollow is rather set back from the lane, but...'

'Come in, come in,' Pippin said hastily, opening the door wide. He pointed them to the sofa on the other side of the hearth, and his heart sank to his toes as Celandine's bonnet came off to reveal a brilliant bouquet of bobbing, curling ribbons.

'Cellie,' he said with a gulp, and went to pour out more tea. Merry had put out a goodly quantity of cups, not knowing just what sweet young creature might be coming and how many in her family might accompany her... He turned back to find Celandine watching him eagerly, and had the disconcerting impression that she was hanging on his every word as he inquired whether they would take cucumber or watercress sandwiches, and if they preferred the chicken or the potted ham?

'O Merry, halloo!' Ilberic called, half-rising to wave at the figure hovering in the doorway. Estella blushed prettily and Celandine simpered. Doderic cleared his throat impressively, and his younger brother sat himself down again.

'I'm just taking care of a few things,' Merry said. 'Are you needing more hot water?'

I'm in plenty of hot water as it is, Pippin muttered under his breath, but he forced a smile and a gay tone and said, 'I'll just come and fetch the teakettle, to freshen the pot, shall I?'

He bowed to all and sundry and hastened to the kitchen, closing the door behind them. Taking Merry in a desperate grip, he hissed, 'What ever am I going to do?'

Merry took up a towel, picked up the whistling teakettle, and thrust it at Pippin. The younger cousin had to take the kettle or risk boiling water sloshed over his toes. 'I say, Merry,' he protested, 'what are you about?'

'I was about to ask you the same,' Merry said glacially. 'You asked two lasses to marry you, last night? This is not Far Harad...'

'I didn't!' Pippin protested, and then mended his words, '...at least, I don't remember...' he added lamely, and finished up with a reiteration of his first question. 'What am I to do?'

'I haven't the faintest,' Merry said crisply. 'Here the lasses are, their hearts light, wondering all night why you asked them and their families to tea and told them to wear ribbons in their hair (as if they were brides) and now you've two of them sitting across from one another. Perhaps each expects the other to be asked to fill in as an attendant in the wedding party...'

'I'll just find a way to explain it all away. It was a simple misunderstanding, that's all it was...'

'Really?' Merry said, drawing out the word as he drew himself up and stared down his nose at Pippin, a tactic he'd learned from Reginard Took, and wonderful at discomfiting the target of his gaze.

'Really,' Pippin said. 'I don't know why you're all put out about it; it's my problem...'

'It certainly is,' Merry drawled, but Pippin forged ahead with determination.

'And I'm going to take care of it.'

'How?'

'I don't know yet, but I am. And bad as the situation is, I'm sure it could be worse...'

Fatal words, which should be stricken from the vocabulary. Pippin ought to have known better.

The doorbell jangled merrily, and there was a flurry of knocking at the door.

Pippin jumped. Fortunately the water in the kettle was not-quite-boiling-anymore, but that which sloshed over his right foot was still hot enough to make him yelp and hop and the next thing he knew he'd dropped the teakettle with a clang and a splash and a sharp yell from Merry.

Sudden silence in the next room was not noted by the two cousins in the kitchen, for Merry had grabbed up the cloth, dipped it in a bucket of cold water standing by, fresh from the well, and slapped the icy-cold wet cloth on Pippin's scalded foot, wrapping it around the reddening ankle. Pippin gasped and then bit his lip, hard, to keep a cry of pain from escaping.

When at last he had control of his voice, he said, 'That tears it...!' and gasped again as Merry pulled the cloth away to look at the skin.

Blisters were rising in places, and the skin was reddened, and Merry said, 'Perhaps we ought to have this looked at...'

'Just what is it that you are doing now, I might ask?' Pippin gritted.

Finished looking, Merry soaked the cloth afresh and applied it, dripping, to Pippin's foot.

The kitchen door opened and Ilberic poked his head through. 'Everything all right in here?'

Even as his eyes widened and he swung the door wider to step in, Pippin was answering, 'Couldn't be better!' and Merry was nattering on about everything being under control and nothing to worry about.

'Do you want some help, or something?' Ilberic said. Being a year younger than Pippin and not as well-travelled, he was still something of an empty-headed tween, but he meant well.

'Perhaps you might answer the door?' Pippin said through his teeth, though the knocking had stopped.

'O Dod's already seeing to it,' Ilberic said casually, adding, 'Well, if there's not anything...' and closing the door behind him.

When Merry helped Pippin hobble into the sitting room, foot bound up, there were exclamations of concern from the four hobbit lasses there. Yes, four, for Merimas Brandybuck had arrived escorting his sisters Melilot and Mentha, both somewhat older than Pippin, but sporting a profusion of ribbons. Melilot, as a matter of fact, had been promised to Fredegar, but he'd released her from her obligation during his recovery from his sufferings in the Lockholes. It was rumoured that he was not long for this world, poor lad, his heart strained and his health ruined by his treatment at the hands of Sharkey's ruffians.

Freddy was looking remarkably calm and well at the moment, though, sipping his tea and chatting with Merimas whilst the lasses whispered and giggled.

'Please,' Pippin said, half raising a hand and nearly losing his balance, but for the firm grip Merry had on him. 'Please don't get up. All's well, really it is, just a little mishap in the kitchen...'

He might as well have saved his breath, for all four lasses gathered with oohs and ahs of concern, escorting him to the sofa, helping Merry settle him with a cushion at his back and more for the poor injured foot, and competing to bring him a plate of tea treats. But of course the teapot was empty...

'That's all right,' Merry said, trying to shoo them back to their seats. 'I've just put the kettle on, and it'll be some time before it boils.'

'I'm fine. Really. Thanks. Just fine,' Pippin was saying, his teeth locked in a smile and a muscle jumping in his cheek. It seemed to him as if a dozen lasses with bright ribbons were gathered round, but it was really only Melilot and Estella sitting to either side, crowding close, and Mentha standing before him with a plate, coaxing him to eat, and Celandine behind him, rubbing his shoulders to help him relax.

At last he could not bear it any longer, the soft twitters as of birds surrounding him, sounding in his ears, confounding his thoughts, whilst the males in the room talked of solid, satisfying things such as hunting, fishing, planting and digging. Pippin sat abruptly upright, shouting, 'Stop!'

And of course, everyone did, and looked full at him.

He drew himself up as best he could, in a seated position, and cleared his throat. All eyes were on him.

'I...' he said, and then plunged on. 'I suppose you're wondering why I asked you here today...?'

'You said you had a proposition to make,' Freddy said into the silence that followed.

Not a proposal? Pippin wondered wildly to himself. Not a proposal of marriage?

'A proposal it was, rather,' Merimas said, glancing from one sister to another.

'For some reason you wanted Cellie to don her prettiest frock and deck herself out with ribbons as if she were a bride,' Ilberic said helpfully. 'Don't you remember, cousin?' Doderic, the older brother, simply gestured to Celandine to come out from behind Pippin and stand next to him, which of course she did, the better to see Pippin's face.

'Of course,' Pippin said, fighting the urge to put his hand to his head.

'Well?' Merry said, most unhelpfully to Pippin's way of thinking.

'I asked you to come, and to don your prettiest frock and wear ribbons in your hair...' Pippin said, looking from one lass to another. Four lasses! You fool of a Took!

'I remember telling Merimas, here, that the prettiest lasses in the Shire were all in the room at one time, at the party last night,' he went on, feeling his way. As a matter of fact, he did remember making such a comment, shortly before starting on his second glass of homebrew.

What day is it today? he muttered to himself under his breath, and with the sudden thought, he brightened. 'As you know, the First of May is just round the corner,' he said, 'and in Tuckborough we don't just have May baskets and dances on the green, but we have a Maypole as well, and hobbits come from all over Tookland just to see the pretty sight!'

'A Maypole!' Celandine said, clapping her hands together. The tween had actually seen a Maypole once, when she was but a little child, and had been enchanted by the beauty of the dance and weaving ribbons.

'Well, I said to myself, said I, "Why is it that there is no Maypole in Buckland? With all these fresh and pretty lasses to dance with ribbons in their hands, and flying from their curls?" '

'Why indeed?' Ilberic cried, fully in the spirit of things, and Pippin looked at him with satisfaction.

'So you called us together to organise a Maypole dance?' Freddy said quizzically, exchanging glances with his sister.

But Melilot and Mentha gave cries of delight, and Celandine was in raptures.

'A Maypole dance,' Merry mused, and then smiled. 'Yes, very pretty indeed,' he said. 'I do hope all of you lasses will consent to help us organise everything, and that you will dance yourselves, for you look so well in ribbons...'

Estella smiled suddenly, dazzlingly, and said, 'O yes! What fun!'

And every year on the First of May there is a Maypole dance on the green verge by the River, just by Brandy Hall, and now you know how it all came about, courtesy of Captain Peregrin Took, of the Travellers' fame, you know.

As to who finally married whom, well, that is another story. Indeed.