This tale is for Grey Wonderer.  To a dear, dear friend who has done nothing but encourage me--as have many others, and I humbly thank you.  I wonder if G.W. knows just how dangerous that can be!  While in Pittsburgh this summer, she asked about the next installment...so here it is.  Initially, I imagined it to be the last one, but I never say 'never' these days.  One never(!) knows.  lol.

Chapter One - Teacher’s Dilemma

“Good morning, Miss Hemlock,” sang the group of young hobbits, greeting the tutor as she entered the room.

“Good morning,” she responded with a smile as she laid her satchel on the table. “Pervinca, will you please collect last night’s assignments while I get the scraperboards from the shelf?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Pervinca got up from her chair, making her rounds to the other students. Merry proudly handed Pervinca his most thorough report on Buckland’s fishing trade. Degger hesitated to give the lass his handiwork; his face reddened when he finally placed his assignment atop Merry’s report. Pervinca saw that Degger’s work was only half finished.

“Are you sure?” Pervinca asked him in a whisper. Degger nodded glumly, so she went on to the next student.

“Well?” Pervinca eyed Pippin when he made no gesture to surrender his assignment from the previous night. “Hand it over,” she admonished her insolent brother in a whisper, “We all had lessons to do last night!”

“I didn’t do my lessons,” Pippin told his sister arrogantly, and in a normal voice.

Every head turned in the young teen’s direction. Degger’s eyes went wide at the bold, young Took’s declaration. Merry rolled his eyes, rubbing his temples at the imminent headache he knew would come before the end of the morning.

“Peregrin Took,” Miss Hemlock glared at her youngest charge. “Why did you not perform the assigned tasks that I gave you?”

Pippin sighed as he prepared to give his explanation. “Why are we given these assignments in the evening anyway, Miss Hemlock? We cover the same subjects during our day lessons.”

“Their purpose is to let me know if you are retaining what I have taught you,” she said firmly, walking over to his desk.

Pippin did not flinch; he looked his tutor directly in the eye--he was going to win this argument. “The exams you give us twice a week ought to help you with that. I have yet to see a blacksmith take his work home with him at the end of the day, nor have I seen a baker take his biscuit-dough home with him at night. So I don’t see the purpose in giving us assignments to work on during the evening when we could be relaxing from all of this and playing a game of chess.”

Miss Hemlock had to discipline herself to keep from grinning at Pippin’s reasoning, although she could not allow his cheek go unchecked. “Mr. Peregrin, not only will you do the assignments I give you this evening, you will also complete last night’s lessons. In addition to that, you shall write one hundred times, ‘I will complete all of my assignments, during the day and at night’. If you do not, then you and I shall have a talk with your father and the Thain tomorrow morning. He has been quite interested in your progress of late.”

Pippin knew he had been bested this time, however, his youthful resolve did not let up. “Can’t it be ‘I will complete all of my assignments’, and leave it at that? The sentence you want me to write is much too long.” Pippin sighed in utter defeat when he got up from his chair in response to the finger his tutor was crooking, indicating for him to stand in his customary spot in the corner on the far side of the room.

He knows this ritual far too well, she thought to herself. “You will stand in the corner until you are ready to properly participate in today’s lesson.” Young Pippin had been growing audacious a bit too much of late, which in her tenure as a tutor has taught her that mischief is a chief indication of boredom in a student.  

The fact of the matter was that Miss Hemlock, indeed, had been holding her students back from more advanced study because of one child: Mr. Degger. *All she had been told about this good-natured nineteen-year-old lad was that he came from humble beginnings in Michel Delving. However humble they had been, the teen had a lot of catching up to do in his studies in order be equal with his peers. If he didn’t catch up soon, Miss Hemlock felt it in the best interest of the rest of the students to inform Mr. Paladin that Degger just wasn’t ready for this level of learning.

As she passed out the day’s assignments to Merry, Pervinca, and Degger, she saw the anxious features on the lad’s face. She reasoned further that not only was it not fair to the other children to explore more complex areas of learning, it wasn’t fair to put Degger through this stress.

While Miss Hemlock sat at her table going over last evening’s assignments, Merry stole a glance over at Pippin. He grinned sadly watching his young cousin stand in the corner fidgeting. Even though Pippin brought his punishment upon himself, Merry felt that there was something unbalanced about this whole business--about Pippin disrupting the lessons every now and then. He had only started acting out recently.

In addition, Merry felt bad for the teen who sat across from him. He watched Degger absently use his fingers to work out the arithmetic on the small scraperboard he held, and then wipe at his forehead; Merry saw the lad was sweating. He knew Degger had been having difficulties with the lessons, but not enough to warrant sweat. Merry thought to get with Degger later on after morning studies were over and ask what sort of help he needed.

At noon, before wrapping up the day’s lessons, Miss Hemlock let the children go early so that they could check on their plants and flowers in the bit of garden provided for them. She needed a quiet moment to mull over an idea that had struck her--before making the suggestion to Mr. Took the following morning at her weekly progress meeting.

In addition to her regular curriculum, Miss Hemlock also offered a course in gardening, however, this was before she realised it was a futile endeavour. Pippin’s father was a farmer by trade, and Merry often assisted his uncle when he used to visit at Whitwell. Yet she soon discovered that the only student without any previous gardening experience actually excelled at it along with his study-mates. It amused Miss Hemlock to no end when Pippin, in all seriousness, gave sage advice to Degger--who just as seriously took it all in, his Lilac sapling thriving as a direct result. Degger seemed to actually enjoy this part of her curriculum, however, it would take more than just passing the gardening course to make up for what he was missing in other areas of study.

* * * * *

“Not too much, Pip,” said Merry, helping his younger cousin to pour a bucketful of a very foul-smelling mixture of soil over the base of his growing grapevine.

“Oh, I’ve forgotten how horrible that stuff smells!” said Pervinca, covering her nose with the skirt of her apron. “You didn’t ride all the way to Whitwell for that, did you?” she asked.

“No,” her brother answered. “Papa had Mr. Woodcot bring it to Tuckborough yesterday. Then when he went to town for a mug with Uncle Addie, papa brought it home with him.”

“I thought Mr. Woodcot decided to retire and take his ease with Mrs. Woodcot in Longbottom?” Merry asked.

“He is,” answered Pippin, still arranging the dark soil round his grapevine. “I think papa is going to have Pim take over until he can find a replacement.”

Pervinca was usually a target of Pimpernel’s whims right along with her brother--and cousin. “Goodness--I feel for the labourers!” she said cynically,” then crinkled her nose at another brief whiff of Pippin’s soil, “Whew!”

“Oh, stop your crying--my grapevine loves it,” Pippin stated, unfazed by his sister’s remark. “And so will yours, Merry. You’ve heard Papa say it; ‘A little bit of this, a little bit of that, and don’t forget soil needs a bit of cowpat!’” Pippin snickered at the silly rhyme. “Eat up, Fergie!”

Merry and Pervinca laughed along with Pippin, watching the teen spread the contents upon the base of his plant with his gloved hands.

“You actually named your plant?” Pervinca asked her brother.

Pippin had a gleam in his eye when he looked at the pair, “Of course!”

“Well, you won’t catch me naming my plants,” said Merry, and then promptly sneezed. He merely sniffled inward while spreading the same mixture at the base of his own.

“Oh…I don’t know,” Pervinca thought aloud, “Perhaps I’ll name mine…Vinca!” and then cackled. She was growing her namesake on the other side of the garden.

Pippin paused in patting down the newly laid dirt round his seedling to look at his cousin, “Oy! Now she’s trouble twice over, Merry!”

“I didn’t seem to be trouble when you needed your breeches sewed up after you ripped them open last Trewsday. Really, Pippin,” Pervinca scolded her brother in a playful manner, “trespassing in Mrs. Bricklayer’s garden.” Pervinca casually picked up a clover for closer inspection, then taunted her brother more, “Which, by the way, mother or father doesn’t know about--yet.”

“And you won’t tell them anything--”

“Have either of you seen Degger on your way out here?” Merry interrupted his cousin, suddenly realizing the fourth member of their gardening group hadn’t shown up yet. Degger was typically a few minutes late because he’d put his books away in his room before coming out to the garden, but not this late. They’d been out here for a half hour already.

Both Pervinca and Pippin shook their heads.

“I had wondered what was keeping him,” said Pervinca.

“If he isn’t here by now,” Pippin put in, “that means he probably got caught by one of the cooks to work in the kitchen.”

“But they know not to bother him until after luncheon,” Merry stated. “I’m going up to his room to see what’s keeping him.”

Pippin grabbed the watering can when he spoke, “Well, while you do that, when I finish here, I’ll go and look in on his lilac bush.” Pippin hoped all was well with his friend. “Let me know how it goes. Meet you at the stables in thirty minutes?” Merry nodded as he got up, walking out of the garden.

 _{*Degger’s “humble” beginnings can be read in Riches to Rags. Also, Mr. Woodcot is yet another minor O.C. from a tale called, “Merry’s Holiday”, which is currently posted at ff.net because it’s in no condition to be posted here at SOA.  Lastly, Pippin's reasoning about homework comes from a conversation between Pearl Took and I.  As for her, she had the GPA to do it (or not do it!) and get away with it.  I didn't.}

Chapter Two - Lending a Hand

Ten minutes later, Merry found himself in the tunnel of the servants’ quarters. He continued rapping upon the wooden door until its occupant answered it. He knew Degger was in his room, though failed to understand why his friend hadn’t opened the door to a guest yet.

After his morning lessons, Degger was still required to perform his duties in the kitchen from after lunch until tea, at which time he was released in order to complete his night assignments on time and study before bed. Ferumbras wasn’t happy about one of his servants taking studies with the future Thain, let alone seeming to dodge his duties, however, Paladin insisted on a light schedule for Degger. Ferumbras gave in--or gave up, knowing as well as any Took how stubborn they themselves could be.

Presently--and just as Merry was about to walk away from Degger’s door, it creaked open, revealing the slight figure of a young lad in his late teens…with flushed cheeks and red nose.

Merry puzzled at this. “What’s wrong, Degger?”

The lad sniffled, “I’m just not up t’ company right now, Mr. Merry.”

“Are you ill?” Merry asked him, concern in his voice. “Perhaps my uncle Paladin can help.”

“No!” Degger blurted out. “I mean--no, sir, I’m not ill.”

“I can tell something is wrong, Degger,” said Merry. “I’m not daft, you know.” A tense wall of silence lay between the two for a long minute before Merry turned to walk away. “Fine.”

“Wait--” Degger called out to his closest friend, continuing when the tweenager turned to face him. “I--I…please come inside, Mr. Merry.”

Merry took the invitation, entering into the simple quarters meant for working servants. Unlike most servants who shared a flat that included a bedchamber, a separate parlour and eating area, Degger had his own quarters. Inside, the first room that a guest met with was the parlour, which consisted of one couch, a tea table, and settle near the hearth. The adjacent eating area had a table, two chairs, and a small sideboard. In the bedroom of a servant’s room were two small beds, night tables, and two adequate wardrobes. Paladin had half of all that removed, then put in a larger wardrobe, a bureau, and desk for the lad. It all was plain in appearance, as the teenaged occupant had few possessions of his own. His wages mostly went toward his annual visits to the Bunce Estate in Michel Delving where his sister lived.

Degger offered Merry a seat at his eating table and then set to pouring them both a cup of hot tea. He took the other chair at the same table with his guest, staring at the rising vapours of the tea while gathering his thoughts. “I’m sorry, Mr. Merry,” Degger began telling of his troubles, “but…I can’t do this. I thought I could--I wanted t’--for Heather and Taddie, but…I can’t. I’m not clever enough for higher learnin’.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Merry, sipping his tea, though he already guessed Degger’s reasons--between his own musings and the sweat on the lad’s brow that morning.

“Ev’ry time Miss Hemlock gives me back my writin’, it’s marked over in red ink, my sums are all wrong…” The teen paused a moment to regain his composure. “…nothin’ I do is right.”

“That can’t be correct,” Merry replied kindly. “I’ve noticed your lilac bush is coming up beautifully in the garden.”

Degger got up from his chair, disappearing into his bedroom. A few seconds later, he reappeared with a report in his hand. Sure enough, Miss Hemlock had drawn red circles round all Degger’s misspelled words, where commas should have been, or capital letters. “And look at this,” Degger added, giving Merry yet another paper, but with sums on it this time. Merry perused the calculations, instantly seeing where the young lad had taken the wrong path to arrive at his answers.

Merry sighed at what his friend must be thinking of himself. He wished that Miss Hemlock had been more perceptive, tutoring individually a bit more with Degger. “The only thing I see is that you did not have the proper prerequisites prior to being placed in these studies, Degger. You’re not dumb, only in need of further instruction.”

Degger frowned, “What’s a pre…prere…?”

“Prerequisite--say it with me,” Merry told his friend, waiting with patience until Degger got it right. “It means that you should have had certain courses of study previously that would have helped you understand Miss Hemlock’s lessons a bit more.” He explained a bit further, “Pervinca and Pippin both were taught their letters, sums, and history by my uncle Paladin when they were little. I was taught the same by my dad, my uncle Mac, and uncle Marmadas--either one on any given year--along with my cousins. Its more a custom in Buckland to instruct a group of children than I believe in the Shire. I always thought it was a little more fun that way, but most Shire parents teach their own children straight through. Yet my dad nor any of my uncles stopped at simple words like, ‘salt, sugar, pepper, and flour’ nor with numbers 1 through 10. Servants just aren’t given that great of an education, whether I agree with that or no.”

“Now I understand why I can’t keep up with the rest of you during our lessons,” Degger stated. “And I don’t like it. Before long, everyone will pass me up and I’ll lose my chance forever.”

Merry gave a sad smile to the lad. “We had passed you up on the first day, Degger. You never had a chance from the beginning. We all had basic lessons years ago--you didn’t. These lessons we’re doing now are primarily something for Pippin to brush up on, to groom him for the title he shall bear when…well, when the time comes.”

“Is that what yer dad did for you?”

This time Merry genuinely smiled, “Yes, but I’ve been on a self-imposed break for a couple of years, though its about to come to an end soon. That’s why my dad and mum made me take the punishment my uncle dealt a few weeks ago; the price of these lessons are coming out of my uncle’s purse, and free for the Brandybucks.”

“That means he’s payin’ for my lessons, too,” said Degger, growing worried again. “I suppose he expects me t’ pass with honour.”

“Of course uncle Paladin expects you to pass,” Merry smiled again, “He wants you to do well in life, or else he wouldn’t have bothered with placing you in the study group.” Merry worried when he saw the anxiety returning to the lad’s face. “However,” he continued, “there’s no reason why you can’t have a little help. You haven’t lost your chance forever; we’re both going to pass with honours, Degger.”

* * * * *

Having watered and tended to their little plants--and Degger’s, Pippin, and Pervinca met with Merry at the stables to go riding on the bridleway that skirted the area of Great Smials.

“This is my favourite part of the day,” said Pippin, closing his eyes to breathe in the scent of spring. He felt the warmth of the sun upon his face as the soft breeze rushed past his cheeks.

“Why is this your favourite part of the day?” asked Merry, “Because you’re not having lessons?”

“Good gracious me, Merry!” Pippin grinned. “You guessed it!”

“It isn’t for forever, you know,” Pervinca put in. “Its only to brush up your toes in a few areas--such as knowing the land of the Shire,” she said, “and how to till a garden!”

“My toes are brushed and I know how to plough an entire field, for heavens sake!” Pippin remarked then grew serious. “I am weary of the same lessons day in and day out. Why haven’t we gone on to other things?”

Merry reflected on his cousin’s remark, bringing to mind what he himself had guessed earlier about the lessons not seemingly balanced. Pippin had brought the point to light as to why they hadn’t gone on to further studies. For the past few weeks, they had kept to a syllabus that Mr. Breddo had developed during his tenure. Merry thought back until his mind could pinpoint the day it occurred. It was five days ago--a week after the ‘worm incident’--when Miss Hemlock more or less stalled the lessons. But why?

The only reason that came to Merry was Degger. Miss Hemlock has to know that Degger is struggling; why has she not done anything to help him? Merry resolved to ask this of the tutor tomorrow after morning lessons. In the meantime, Merry had a mind to pay another visit to his friend.

Chapter Three - The Scheme of Things.

Later in the evening, after supper, Merry met with the teen back inside his room. Degger eagerly watched as Merry wrote out a horizontal line of title numbers from 1 through 12 on paper, and then wrote the same numbers vertically underneath each title with an equal sign beside it, then a sum. “These are called multiplication tables. You will have to memorise them,” Merry said, giving the paper to Degger. “Not all at one time,” he quickly added with a smile, seeing the look of terror upon the lad’s face. “We’ll start out with one table tonight--one of the easy ones, 1, 2, 5, or 10. These are the foundation of all the arithmetic problems Miss Hemlock is assigning us to solve. I know you’ve been taught in the past to work them out the hard way, by adding the numbers multiple times, but trust me--memorising them is much quicker and easier.” Merry then presented his friend an elementary book for children and a dictionary that he obtained from one of the bookshelves in the study. “This is to help you with your spelling. Inside this book is a list of words set out in letter-order. I shall take ten words from this book every night for you to look up its definition in the dictionary. Once we get your spelling and diction up to the expected level, then we’ll begin to work on your grammar.”

Degger thoughtfully took the paper Merry offered, giving the tables his full attention. “You mean t’ help me?” he asked softly.

“I do, though I don’t have but a few days left with the study group,” said Merry somewhat regretfully. He had come to enjoy learning in a group once again, even while suffering through Pippin’s antics, and at the same time enjoying them. However, Merry had also come to enjoy his freedom…that is, until he should return home, where his own dad would begin the next stage of teaching him to be Master of the Hall. Only a few days left of my holiday and then poor Degger will have to fend for himself in his studies, thought Merry. Before retiring to his own room for the night--and to begin his own night assignments, Merry gave Degger his first set of spelling words. “We’ll meet in the kitchen before breakfast to see how you’ve done.”

Degger looked over to yet one more benefactor who had taken part in his bittersweet story, “Thank ye, Mr. Merry.”

* * * * *

The following morning, Degger was already sitting in the kitchen when Merry peered inside. “Good mornin’, Mr. Merry,” Degger greeted Merry with a wide smile, though the teenager had dark circles under his eyes.

Merry raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise. “So it is a good morning I take it?”

“’Tis a very good mornin’, sir!” answered the teen. “After you left, I memorised the hardest table of all, Mr. Merry,” Degger spoke with excitement. “It was like ye said--the easy tables were the ones, twos, fives, and tens. Now I got the nines all in my head this mornin’, too, and I already got t’ try’em out on the lesson Miss Hemlock gave me yesterday. Oh,” he added, placing a piece of paper in front of Merry, “and here’s the spellin’ words ye gave me t’ do.”

Merry stifled a yawn as he looked over the handiwork his friend gave him and then smiled. With a bit of extra work on the side, Degger would fare quite well in the study group. “I am pleased with the results of your diligence, Degger,” said Merry, looking up at the lad. “Are you willing to continue it?”

“What does di-li-gence mean?”

Merry smiled, knowing his “pupil” was very capable of learning whatever was put before him. “It means that you’re not afraid of hard work--something I already knew about you.”

Degger desperately wanted to please Mr. Took--his first benefactor, and Mr. Merry--both who obviously saw something in him that the Greenhill lad did not see in himself. Degger’s brown eyes glistened as he answered, “Yes. I want t’ keep on.”

“Very well,” said Merry, the Shire’s newest tutor. “We shall meet again in your room after your kitchen duties--round teatime.”

* * * * *

Miss Hemlock had just dismissed her students for the day when Pippin jumped out of his seat, even though the pitter-patter of rain pelting on the window pane would prevent the children from gardening today.

“Do you want to play a game of chess in the parlour, Merry?” asked Pippin, sweeping his books into his arms. “Why not?” he asked, watching Merry shake his head.

“I’m too tired, Pip.” As if on cue, Merry gave a great yawn.

“You can’t be tired!” said Pippin, growing irritated with his cousin. “You’re acting like an old gaffer!”

“I feel like one, too,” Merry shot back, but not angrily. “I have to stay and talk with Miss Hemlock,” he whispered.

Pippin’s countenance changed from annoyance to intrigue. “So…you’re in love with her?”

“No!” Merry nervously laughed. “Its just that I…I…”

Pippin snickered softly, “You do like her!”

“Pippin! I do like her--but not like that.”

“Goodbye, lads!” Pervinca smiled as she traipsed past the pair. “I’m off to Aunt Pearl’s apartment to have a tea-luncheon with the ladies of the smial. You want to come along?” Still being a young teen herself, Pervinca was not yet invited to many adult tea gatherings unless her mother attended, however, this was one that her mother, both sisters, and herself were invited to.

Pippin choked his response. “Absolutely not!”

“No, thank you,” answered Merry, though the thought of a roomful of young ladies didn’t seem as unappealing as it did a couple of years ago.

Pervinca whispered near to Merry’s ear, “I heard that Estella Bolger is going to be there.” She grinned mischievously.

Merry blushed crimson, but shook his head all the same. “Please…don’t say anything…”

Now Pervinca smiled kindly, “I would never embarrass you like that, Merry. But I just adore the look on your face every time I mention her name!”

The tween let out a breath of relief once Pervinca had left the study. “I love her, Pip, but there are days…”

“Get in line, cousin!” said Pippin with a grin. “So why must you speak with Miss Hemlock?” He stole a quick glance at the tutor still gathering her books and slipping them into her satchel.

Merry would have rather kept Degger’s troubles confidential, however, another secret pact that he and Pippin had taken five years ago prevented it; thus, there were no secrets between them.

“I want to talk to her about Degger,” Merry simply stated.

“I don’t think he’s faring so well, Merry,” whispered Pippin though only Miss Hemlock remained in the room. Degger had already left for his room. Pippin went on, “He’s not happy--I can tell. I want to help him, too!”

“You can’t help him,” Merry stated. “These studies are primarily for you, Pip. We both know that if the Thain gets a report that you are not faring so well yourself because your time is spent helping the servant,” Merry said the last word mockingly, “Ferumbras is not only going to have a fit, he’ll probably take Degger out of the study group.”

Ferumbras will more than likely take Degger out of the study group if he discovers that he’s lagging behind, Pippin thought to himself, then suddenly an idea came to him. What Ferumbras didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him!

“I’m the better choice, Pippin,” Merry said, bringing Pippin back to the present. “I’m just excess luggage here--”

“And paying off a penance,” Pippin interjected, so as not to alert Merry to all that was going on behind his Tookish green eyes.

“Paying off a penance twice over,” Merry echoed. He sighed, “My mum and dad are going to arrive in two days to take me home. What shall I do then?”

“That is easily solved, my dear Merry,” Pippin grinned. “Tell me again how you ended up in the study group in the first place?”

Merry blinked at Pippin’s reasoning, “Pip…I can’t. I’ll get in serious trouble this time and….” Then Merry, too, grinned. “Uncle Paladin won’t have a choice but to add another week or two!”

Let it not be said that Pippin wasn’t greedy when it came to spending time with his dearest and most beloved cousin. Pippin said further, “It has to be a very wicked deed--I think Degger will need at least a fortnight to catch up!”

With that said, Merry never spoke with Miss Hemlock, preferring to spend the afternoon playing chess with his dearest friend.

A/N: Sorry for the late update; I realized that the tale needed more background.

Chapter Four - Help is on the Way

After leaving the study, Pervinca was on her way to her father’s office with a message from her mother. She carried in her hand a few white envelopes with a post mark on them. As she drew near to the open door, she could make out low voices just beyond the threshold.

“I have her report here in my hand, Paladin,” said the voice that Pervinca recognised as her cousin Ferumbras. “It’s right there in black ink. He can't do the work.” Pervinca readily perceived that Ferumbras was speaking of Degger’s studies.

“Degger just needs a bit more time, cousin,” the lass heard her father reply. Pervinca thought she could detect a bit of disappointment in her father’s voice. She slowed down, then stopped just shy of the entryway.

“I still don’t understand why we are using the family coffer to put this…this servant through schooling that only children of privilege are offered.”

“I am paying for Degger’s studies,” Paladin replied, “his schooling is coming out of my own pocket.”

Ferumbras pursed his lips in frustration; he didn’t seem to be making any headway with this dirt farmer. His peripheral vision caught sight of movement outside of the doorway; he stepped closer to the hall. “Come inside, lass,” he said to Pervinca, “’Tis no good to stand out there eavesdropping.”

Paladin saw the worried expression on Pervinca’s face and instantly knew that she had heard just about everything, though he wasn’t going to let that snobby cousin of his get away with accusing his daughter of prying on purpose. “Perhaps she didn’t want to intrude,” Paladin stated firmly. He shot his elder cousin a look that warded off any further remarks about his daughter. Paladin wanted to add, We lowly crop farmers from the country do teach our children manners, however, he kept that to himself.

Pervinca held out the envelopes she carried. Feeling quite self-conscious under the hard gaze of the Thain, she spoke timidly, “Mother wanted me to give these to you…and to remind you that we would be at Aunt Pearl’s this afternoon.”

Paladin took the envelopes from Pervinca then answered, “Ah, yes--thank you, love. Please tell your mother that I said to enjoy her tea with the other ladies. And that includes yourself.” He smiled when Pervinca blushed; the teen loved to be addressed as a lady.

Ferumbras had about as much patience around children as his mother, so he took his leave. “I am urging you to think about what we have discussed, Paladin. I shall await your answer tomorrow.”

When Ferumbras had left, Pervinca went to her father and hugged him. “He means to take Degger out of the study group, doesn’t he Father?”

Paladin took in a long breath then let it out slowly to release the tension in his shoulders. “He’s trying his best,” Paladin answered her. “Ferumbras has ordered Miss Hemlock to resume advanced studies no later than three days hence, and I have to agree. If Degger does not pass his next exam, then he is to be taken out. On the other side of the coin, Sweet Pea, we can’t have Degger’s nerves frayed over failing his lessons, either.”

Pervinca looked up determinedly at her father. “He won’t fail, Papa.”

* * *

Degger became worried when he saw Pervinca come into the Smial’s kitchen. Had he forgotten something? He certainly would remember if he had been scheduled to help clear up during the ladies’ tea party…but no, he clearly recalled being scheduled to wash dishes this afternoon.

“Hullo, Miss Pervinca,” the kitchen mistress greeted the lass. “What can I do for ye?”

Pervinca shook her head, “Nothing, Mistress May, but thank you. I’m here to take Degger; my brother requires his presence.”

“I can’t do that, Miss,” said May with a sigh, “Not without permission from the Overseer. I’ve not another t’ take his place today--an’ with the ladies’ tea an’ all…”

Pervinca took note of the pile of dishes, silverware, and teacups. She grabbed one of the kitchen aprons hanging upon a peg. “I shall take his place then.”

“No, Miss--ye can’t do that!”

“Why not?” asked the lass, tying the sash round her waist, “Do you think I have never washed dishes before in my life?” Pervinca laughed, “I wasn’t born here, you know!” That remark was not lost on the kitchen mistress. “And must I remind you that I am the youngest lass in my family? Who do you think got designated to wash dishes all those years at Whitwell?”

“Oy…” was May’s reply. “Degger, go see t' Mr. Pippin and be quick about it!”

Walking over to Degger--who was completely dumbfounded, Pervinca kindly pushed the lad out of the way. “Go to Pippin’s room--he’s waiting for you there.”

* * *

“Hullo, Degger,” said Pippin, answering the knock at his door. The family’s personal attendant, Mistress Lilly accompanied the lad to Pippin’s room in Paladin’s family tunnel. “Thank you, Mistress Lilly,” Pippin said, and then asked, “Would you be so kind as to bring me and--I mean,only me a tray of biscuits and milk? Enough for two hobbits, though, if you please. I’m very hungry after giving my cousin a sound beating at chess.”

Pippin shut the door after the server left. “Actually, I only beat him once,” laughed Pippin, “but you won’t say anything to the other lads, will you, Degger?”

“No, sir.” Degger remained where he stood, not following Pippin further into his room.

“Degger!” Pippin finally turned round. “Come along--you’ve been here before--I don’t bite.”

Degger trailed the thirteen-year-old over to a desk that sat in the corner of the sitting area. Books were piled high, papers in disarray; the top of the desk appeared as if a wind storm had literally blown through Pippin’s room. Degger automatically reached for a grey jumper hanging over the back of a chair and began folding it.

“Put that down, Degger,” Pippin took the article of clothing out of his friend’s hand then tossed it into the dark void of his bedroom--wherever it landed is where it sat until he was forced to clean up his room. To keep her children in order, Eglantine insisted that they keep up their own rooms.

Pippin pulled the lad over to the set of chairs near his desk where they sat down. “I need a bit of help,” said Pippin, praying this would go over smoothly. “I do better with speaking aloud my history lessons as I work them out. Usually, Merry is here to help me, but he’s off doing something else for later this evening, or, at least, that is what he said. Will you sit here with me a while? I need for you to listen as I read out loud and tell me when I’ve gone off the deep end--or if something doesn’t make sense to you. If it doesn’t make sense to you, then chances are it isn’t making sense to me--but I don't know it.” Pippin almost made a face at that last statement. Degger wasn’t stupid--he’d see right through everything if Pippin messed this up.

Degger, indeed, was a bright lad. He sensed something was going on between his three study-mates. First, Mr. Merry volunteers to help him in the evenings after supper…now Mr. Pippin is asking for help with Shire history? Something definitely wasn’t right; Mr. Pippin excelled at history--he should need no help. And Miss Pervinca taking his duty in the kitchen so that he could be here with Mr. Pippin? Hmmm…but does a servant tell his betters ‘no’, when they mean to help him? Degger loved this family dearly--at whatever cost to himself, even if he should be caught by the Thain, Degger resolved to pass these studies--with honours--and with their help. He stifled a yawn as he answered Pippin. “I will sit here with ye.”

* * *

“So, how did the dish-scrubbing duty go?” Pippin asked his sister while on their way to the dining room for supper.

Pervinca held out her hands for inspection, still showing signs of having been shrivelled not too long ago. “Remind me to never volunteer like that again!”

Pippin laughed, “It was your idea!”

“That’s what makes this whole thing so incredible. I must have washed every single plate, cup, spoon, and saucer in the Smials--twice!”

“Are you going to do it again tomorrow?” Pippin asked her.

“I don’t know if doing this every day is wise, Pip,” said Pervinca more seriously. “Mother and father will become suspicious.”

“But you said yourself that Degger has to pass tomorrow’s exam--or else.”

“We’ll see, but I am not making any promises.”

Chapter Five - Trouble on the Horizon

The following day, during quiet studies, Miss Hemlock made her rounds to each of her students, giving additional instruction as needed. Merry, of course, appeared to be doing fine, as the study was about Buckland, however, to Miss Hemlock, Merry seemed to be somewhat behind in his reading. She felt he should have been much farther along into the book. “How are you doing, Mr. Merry?” she asked him. “Are you ready for today’s exam?”

“Fi--” said Merry as his mouth opened up in a yawn. “Fine, Miss Hemlock.” He gave a half-hearted smile, “I’m ready.”

“Mr. Merry, are you getting enough sleep?”

“I am.”

Miss Hemlock was not wholly satisfied with Merry’s answer, but she knew she would not get much more out of him at the moment. She made a mental note to ask him again after she released the rest of her students from morning studies.

She went on to Degger, smiling to give him encouragement. “I’ve noticed a slight improvement in your work, Degger. Keep up the good work!” Miss Hemlock had to suppress her impulse to laugh; Degger’s beaming smile was absolutely precious.

When she got to Pippin, Miss Hemlock realised that he was not participating in quiet study as planned.

“Mr. Peregrin,” she said in a low voice, “what, pray tell, are you doing?” In spite of her efforts to speak quietly, the concentration of the rest of her students was broken.

“I’m writing a poem,” Pippin replied amiably, continuing to write. “It’s for Merry,” Pippin named his co-conspirator for emphasis, “he asked me to write it.”

Miss Hemlock shot a look at her eldest student. “Now? Right before your exam when your cousin ought to be studying for it? Mr. Meriadoc, you know that this is not appropriate,” Miss Hemlock replied firmly. She spoke again to Pippin, “You were assigned final study time before your test; you know better.”

“Oh, I finished studying a while ago,” said Pippin not looking up. He dipped his quill-pen into his ink jar, carefully wiping the excess ink onto the blotter before writing the last word of his poem.

Miss Hemlock contemplated sending the lad straight to his father’s office, though she would like to avoid it if possible. However, that was the instruction that Paladin had given the tutor for the next time Pippin disrupted the class. After the meeting they had the day before she was quite certain that the future Thain meant business this time with his son. Perhaps a little humiliation might be the key, she thought…but little did she know Peregrin Took.

“Mr. Peregrin,” she straightened up, “You shall stand up and read to us your poetry.”

“You lasses might not want to hear this sort of poetry,” advised Pippin.

Miss Hemlock’s eyes went wide with Pippin’s cheek.

Merry understood that Pippin was trying to help out by getting them both in trouble at the same time--and to tack on more time to help Degger…yet Merry also knew the sort of poetry his young cousin was becoming quite proficient at. Today, unfortunately, Miss Hemlock appeared determined to put an end to Pippin’s boredom--or so Merry imagined. So he jumped in the act, feigning attempt to put off her interest in Pippin’s composition, “Miss Hemlock--”

“Mr. Merry,” Miss Hemlock interrupted, “allow your study-mate to amuse us with his rendition of poetry.” She looked at Pippin, “I am most certain that it has to do with the Oldbucks or Buckland--doesn’t it, Mr. Peregrin? Stand up.”

Hardly. The thirteen-year-old lad stood up from his chair, smiling at all the attention he was getting. “Then, at your request, I’d be happy to, Miss Hemlock,” he said smugly. “I actually did write this for Merry--it’s about that night at the Green Dragon when Frodo took us there for supper.” For emphasis, he grinned at Merry, who rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling.

“I once met a lass who was blessed,

In the area, of well, you can guess,

I tried not to stare--

And asked if she’d share…”

Pippin sighed for dramatics before speaking the next line, “She said ‘no’ and then glared, the b--ow!”

The poor lad didn’t get to finish his wee poem. Miss Hemlock had him by his pointed ear, hauling him out of the room.

* * *

As Miss Hemlock escorted Pippin toward his father’s office, she let her thoughts run rampant in her head. She disliked turning the lad over to his father, but Pippin’s behaviour did not leave her much choice. His antics could not be tolerated during studies any longer, much less speaking poetry of the degenerate sort.

In her head, Miss Hemlock went over the progress meeting between her and Mr. Paladin:

“I agree that Pippin is showing signs of tedium, Miss Hemlock,” said Paladin, “however, his misbehaviour cannot be ignored. The next time he disrupts his fellow students, I want him brought to my office; I will deal with my son.”

“I fear…,” Miss Hemlock began, “…I fear that young Peregrin’s behaviour is stemming from a lack of challenge.”

“How so?” Paladin asked with surprise. “Are you not offering the children various levels of study?”

“Different levels of study really isn’t necessary, as three of the four students were essentially at the same point of learning; each of those three have finished elementary lessons with their respective families. Except for one.”

Paladin leaned forward onto his desk with a sigh. “Degger.”

Miss Hemlock nodded in answer. “I’ve tried to stall the lessons for a while to allow the lad to catch up, thinking all he needed was a bit of time…and I am afraid that Peregrin is suffering for it.”

“Degger isn’t going to be able to catch up,” Paladin replied sadly. “He has a servant’s education--which is not very much. I should have known better.”

“The Thain expects my report on Highday as usual,” Miss Hemlock informed Paladin. “He’s made comment before on Peregrin’s progress. He’s pleased so far, however, he isn’t particularly thrilled over an employed servant participating in the lessons. He believes that Degger’s place is with performing his duties.”

“That is where my cousin and I differ in opinion,” Paladin said firmly. He sighed, placing his hands over his face, rubbing out the tension. “I shall handle my cousin, Miss Hemlock, and I will deal with my lad. Now…what to do about Degger?”

“That is what I want to propose to you, Mr. Paladin,” Miss Hemlock offered. “Peregrin misbehaves because he is not being challenged...because I thought withholding the study of more complex lessons would help Degger catch up. Now I understand that, as you just said, the chance of him catching up to the other students--without aid--is unlikely…so,” she took in a deep breath before taking the plunge. “I want to take a couple of hours each day with the lad after his kitchen duties are finished to assist him. Degger requires individual instruction, Mr. Paladin, and I am his tutor.”

Paladin started to object, “But--”

“I shall waive any additional fee,” Miss Hemlock quickly put in for extra measure. “The lad tries so hard, Mr. Paladin…please.”

After a long, thoughtful moment, Paladin nodded in agreement. “I had a mind to take him aside myself,” he said, “but I…” he trailed off, eyeing a stack of books upon his desk. His own studies to become the future Thain took up most of his time now.”

She smiled, thinking her meeting a success, and then stood to take her leave.

After leaving Pippin with his father, Miss Hemlock walked the tunnels alone back to the study, worrying over Pippin. Inwardly, she hoped his father wouldn’t be too hard on him, breaking his spirit in the process of discipline. Now Mr. Paladin also wanted a word with his nephew over Pippin’s poetry, though he would wait until the exam was over.

Worn out from the stress of the morning, Miss Hemlock opened the door to the study, hoping to just make it to noon when studies were over. She looked at the clock on the wall: not quite eleven o’clock. Not close enough, she thought. She was also anxious to get started with helping Degger.

“Everyone, take up your scraperboards,” she instructed the remaining students. “As part of this morning's exam, we’re going to work out a calculation similar to the one that I assigned to you last ni…” Miss Hemlock picked up her own scraperboard, looking at it strangely.

When she laid it down on her table this morning, it displayed an extremely detailed process of arriving at the correct sum of a particularly challenging formula--a process that took her over two hours to prepare. In place of her formula was a large circle with two eyes, a nose, and a smiling mouth. Miss Hemlock angrily tossed the board onto her table. “Who did this?” she demanded.

Merry almost hesitated to answer, seeing how upset the tutor was, but he desperately wanted another week of punishment to the study group--for Degger’s sake. He stifled a yawn before standing up, “I did it, Miss Hemlock.”

Miss Hemlock gaped in shock at one of her finest students. A few seconds passed before she could speak. “Why? What have I…?” She briefly hesitated in her words lest she completely lose her composure. Miss Hemlock, calm as she could be, sat down at her table then began writing out a note on a blank leaf of paper. “Take this to your uncle,” she folded the note and then handed it to the tween without looking up. “Directly.”

When Merry saw how upset his tutor was, he regretted his actions--almost apologising then and there, but he knew it was too late for words. Silently he took the paper, walking out of the study heading straight for his uncle Paladin’s office. Deep inside, Merry didn’t think his scheme was going as planned. Perhaps he should have stayed with his original plan the day before and spoke with Miss Hemlock about Degger, though he felt too tired then and even more exhausted now. Merry slowly blinked his weary eyes as he walked, feeling ashamed of his deed.

A/N: the last line of Pippin's poem will appear in the story soon.  Its not exactly what it seems... :-)

Chapter Six - Revelations

Back inside the study, Miss Hemlock dismissed her remaining students for the day, saying she had a terrible headache. The exam would be given tomorrow when she had more than fifty percent of her students in attendance. After the tutor had left, both Pervinca and Degger lingered at their desks, still stunned by all that had happened. Pervinca finally broke the silence.

“I hope she feels better tomorrow,” she said glumly.

“So do I,” said Degger.

“Are you going back to your room to study?” Pervinca inquired. “You don’t have to be in the kitchen for two hours yet.”

“I want t’ go back t’ my room, but I have t’ pass near the kitchen t’ get t’ it. The Overseer will see me.”

“That isn’t right, Degger,” said Pervinca. “You need this time to study. Perhaps I will walk with you until you are well past the kitchen. Maybe the Overseer won’t bother you if he sees you’re with me.”

“That is right kind of ye, Miss Pervinca,” said Degger, “but won’t folk be talkin’ if they see ye walkin’ with a servant? A lad servant?”

“Tosh! The people round here have been told that you were our friend before you became a servant at Great Smials--long before my family moved here. If they cannot get past that wee fact, then they aren’t worth my time to try and explain it further.”

Degger had a gut feeling that things were going to turn out just as he imagined in his head; he had heard talk of the extra preparations going on for the important visitors from Buckland, however, he certainly was not going to reject such a kind offer from someone who considered him a friend--he didn’t have many of them. “All right, Miss Pervinca, and I thank ye.”

The young pair stood up, walking toward the door. “You know Degger, I sometimes wish that we all still lived back at Whitwell. No one had to call me ‘Miss’, and I’m not sure I like being treated as an aristocrat. I just want to be considered as plain old Vinca. Not even six months ago it was my job to help Pippin with the chores in the barn, or help my sisters clean the smial.”

Degger was quite surprised at her confession. “Do ye miss it?” The lad never did get used to being round such large, foul-smelling animals. He had always lived in a rather large town.

“Sometimes. I don’t have many friends here, either, Degger--at least not yet. However, my cousin, Estella Bolger, is a promising kindred spirit. She and I think so much alike--and we’re the same age. The problem is that her family lives all the way in Budgeford. They only come here on occasion to visit her uncle Ferdinand.”

“I don’t think Miss Bolger is remiss at all if she considers ye a friend. My sister and me send letters to each other a lot. Perhaps ye and Miss Bolger could do the same.”

Pervinca smiled, having already exchanged addresses with her newest friend. “That sounds splendid, Degger--”

Degger winced; he thought they weren’t even near the kitchen yet and he heard his name shouted. “Sir?”

The Overseer approached the teens. “Hurry up and get out o’ yer study clothes and help us scrub down the kitchen floor. We got important visitors coming t’day!”

“Aye, sir.”

“Mr. Weaver, Degger has an exam tomorrow. He needs to study for it.”

“Miss, he’ll ’ave plenty o’ time t’ study after he’s scrubbed the floor clean. Ye have five minutes t’ get back here, Degger.”

Pervinca looked to Degger, “But you have to study!”

“I have t’ do as I’m asked, Miss Pervinca.”

“Four minutes, Degger!” the Overseer scowled.

“Fine!” Pervinca piled her books upon Degger’s. “Take my books back to your room. I’ll ask Pippin to pick them up later--now go to your room and study.”

“Miss?” Degger was once again staggered by this lass’s spirit. She obviously wasn’t all talk.

“You heard me, Degger, now go on!” Pervinca gave her friend a wee shove before marching off with a very surprised Overseer.

* * *

The tunnels Merry walked passed were a weary blur, however, he soon stood upon the mat placed before the door of his uncle’s office. He knocked softly so as not to disturb his uncle Paladin. What if his uncle was taking one of his clandestine naps upon the couch in his office?

“Come in.”

The tweenager winced at hearing his uncle’s voice beyond the door. Darn the bad luck! He apparently was awake. Merry turned the door handle to enter the room.

“Ah, Merry!” said Paladin, “We’ve been waiting for you. Come inside and sit next to your partner-in-mischief.”

Walking inside, Merry caught sight of his young cousin sitting upon the couch. Their eyes met, but Pippin looked away. He surmised that by now his uncle Paladin knew everything about their plan, and that Pippin felt the ramification of it on the seat of his breeches. Before sitting down beside Pip, Merry handed his uncle the note Miss Hemlock had written.

Paladin opened the paper to read it. “Let us read about your daring deed, shall we?” He read for a minute and then laid the paper aside. “Just as I thought.” Paladin picked up the same paper that Miss Hemlock had given him when she deposited Pippin a bit earlier.

“I once met a lass who was blessed, in the area, of well, you can guess,” he shot his teenaged son a look of disdain. “I tried not to stare, and asked if she’d share...she said ‘no’ and then glared…” Now Paladin really glowered at Pippin, “the beer, sadly, went to older guests.”

“I didn’t get to speak that last bit,” said Pippin a tad cautiously, hoping to garner mercy.

Paladin silenced the teen with another hard gaze. “In one hand, I have poetry that is on the verge of sordid,” he said while holding Pippin’s poetry paper, “and utter sabotage in this one.” He rattled Merry’s note with the other. Paladin let his eyes gaze upon the guilt-ridden lads. “What am I to do with the lot of you, eh?”

“I think Merry needs more time here at Great Smials, Papa,” Pippin put in.

“Merry’s family will be here soon to claim him, so I believe he’ll have more time with his father. I don’t have time for this, lads!” Paladin nearly shouted at them. “I am up to my ears with my own studies, I have to make a decision about Degger before teatime, and the last thing I need is--” Paladin gritted his teeth; he did not mean to disclose anything about Degger. He took a deep breath, “…What I am in need of is for you lads to behave proper toward your fellow study-mates and obey your tutor.” He watched as the two young hobbits looked at one another and then become downcast.

“Merry, your parents are expected round teatime,” said Paladin. “At that time, I shall turn you over to your father for punishment. And as for you, Pippin,” Paladin looked to his son, “you will go to your room this instant until--” Paladin glanced at his nephew who was giving a great big yawn. “Merry, am I boring you? Then again, perhaps all of this tomfoolery is taking up much of your energy. Pimpernel told me of seeing your lantern on under the crack of your door when she leaves for the fields in the morning.” Paladin leaned forward in his chair across from the lads, arms folded with elbows perched on his knees. “You lads have already interrupted my afternoon, so I beg you to tell all.”

“Pip hasn’t told you?” Merry asked, a bit surprised. Pippin shook his head in reply.

“He was just about to when you arrived with your note…so indulge me, Merry,” said Paladin, now leaning back in his chair to rest his head. His headache was growing more intense.

After listening to everything his nephew revealed, confessed, and admitted to, Paladin was about to lecture the lads on consulting an adult when faced with obstacles too big for a teen or tween. However, the door to his office flew open with yet another interruption. In walked the Thain who dragged in two teenaged hobbits by each arm. He none too gently pushed them both into a chair.

“I found this one,” he pointed to Pervinca, “scrubbing the kitchen floor like a common lass, and this one,” he glared at Degger, “who should have been the one working, was off to his room as if he were the king-come-back.”

Paladin gave his elder an icy stare and then addressed the children. He first spoke to Degger, who was red-faced with humiliation and near tears. “Degger, I want you to go directly to your room and stay there for the remainder of the afternoon.” The poor lad looked panic-stricken so Paladin spoke more softly to put the teen at ease. “It’s all right, Degger. I want you to take this time to study. Looking at the time, I suspect that Miss Hemlock did not give the exam this morning?”

“No, sir,” Degger and Pervinca answered in unison.

Ferumbras started to object, but Paladin held up his hand for silence. “Then I want you to study all the more. Expect your tutor to stop by your room after tea; she plans to give you private lessons to bring you up to speed with your study-mates. After that, your time is your own, though I should encourage you to get a good night’s rest for tomorrow.”

“Aye, sir.” Degger knew better than to argue with his benefactor. At once, he rose up from his chair, taking his leave of Paladin and the Thain. The lad felt the Thain’s hostile eyes upon him as he passed him on the way out.

Paladin now turned to his own children and nephew, who instantly wiped the grins off their faces. “All three of you march to the family’s study and wait there for me. I am not yet finished with you.” He waited for them to file out of his office before turning his attention to his elder cousin.

“Now it is just you and I, cousin.”

“I don’t approve of your parenting skills for one,” said Ferumbras, “and second, your idea of educating one of my servants is an utter outrage. It’s insulting to those who have been born and raised a certain way in this smial. You will not change things, Paladin.”

“I will change things one child at a time, if need be,” Paladin retorted. “My job as Thain-in-training is to manage the staff here at Great Smials. Do you not think a farmer capable of such? In numbers alone, I have managed more field workers than hobbits you have on staff here. What did you tell Mr. Weaver that got him all vexed about my brother-in-law’s visit and took Degger from his studies? Mr. Weaver knows well not to disturb the lad, so he must have felt desperate in some fashion--especially when two of his best workers walked out last week. And if I might add, my labourers never quit on me when things got rough.”

Ferumbras squirmed in his seat. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Paladin,” he sneered. “I don’t doubt your abilities…except when it affects my staff--or Great Smials. I felt Mr. Weaver and his workers were far too lax in preparing for the Master of Buckland’s heir.”

“So, you’re saying that I’m too lax?” Paladin grew angry. Why didn’t Ferumbras just shut his mouth? The more he opened it, the more Paladin wanted to stuff a ball of yarn into it. “Perhaps--but at least I am not a tyrant who places yokes upon people’s necks that are too heavy to carry--that they simply cannot deal with it. They have families to support--children to feed, and yet they choose to walk out. I had things for Sara’s visit well under control until you walked into it.”

“And it was a good thing I did,” Ferumbras spoke coolly. It was apparent that they would never see eye to eye on anything. He placed a hand on Paladin’s shoulder, speaking to him as if he were a witless child. “It might take a bit of time, but you will eventually catch on as to how things are run here. You will find that it is much more than shovelling after cows.”

Paladin swept his cousin’s hand off his shoulder. “If you meddle into my tasks without so much as conferring with me beforehand, then you can expect disasters such as this to happen. Second, Degger is my responsibility and your mother knew this from the start, so if I choose to educate him, that is my prerogative, especially when the cost is coming out of my own purse. Third,” Paladin got up and close to his cousin for effect, “if you ever so much as lay a hand on my daughter as you did today--or any of my children, then you and I will be settling our differences in a storeroom. Good day.” With that, Paladin walked out of his own office, leaving his embittered cousin behind.

A/N: Oh, how I wanted to continue on with Paladin and Ferumbras butting heads, but, unfortunately, this tale is not about them.  I am working on a different story that will portray Paladin and his family adjusting to Great Smials under the current Thain.  Now on with today's update...

Chapter Seven - Merry Takes Counsel

Paladin quietly stepped into his private study; the children sat upon the couch near to the window. He took one of the chairs that were set on the other side of the tea table between them. He said not a word for a long minute, allowing his mind to calm down from the recent altercation between him and his cousin moments ago.

“Father? Are you all right?” To Pervinca, her father appeared haggard, as if the entire world sat upon his shoulders. She quickly got up from the couch; going over to the hearth, she proceeded to make him a cup of hot tea. Merry and Pippin, too, saw the fatigue in his eyes, though neither had to wonder much about this. Merry read the signs that his uncle and the Thain did not get along. Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief that his own dad and granddad Rory did not behave in this manner while in training as the Master. Pippin, for his part, had heard snippets--mostly in overheard conversations between his eldest sister, Pearl, and their mother--or sometimes via imparted observations from Merry himself.

“Thank you, Sweet Pea,” said Paladin, then took a careful sip of the tea. There was really nothing left for him to say to his daughter; he merely wanted the children to be out of earshot when he and Ferumbras exchanged words. “You may go now.”

Pervinca gave a surprised look to her brother and cousin, and then spoke hesitantly to her father. “You’re not going to punish me?”

“No, I am not,” Paladin said, taking another sip of his tea. “However…I should caution you about performing such tasks for in the future.” Paladin was never short on lectures. “I realise you did what you did for Degger’s sake, Vinca, but henceforth have a care. I will never reproach any of my children for aiding a servant in a time of urgent need, however, I would advise that you choose these urgencies with utmost care. The servants are indeed employed to carry out a list of tasks throughout the day and are compensated through money for their troubles. If you are frequently found doing a servant’s labours, then that gives the impression that that servant is being excessively idle elsewhere. If the reason for this is a good one, then I am prepared to defend both yours and the servant’s actions to the rest of the family.” Paladin saw the many questions in his daughter’s facial expression. He looked to his nephew, “Merry? What shall you say? I’d like to hear what you have learned so far as one of the heirs to Brandy Hall and Buckland.”

Merry turned to Pervinca in answer, “Uncle Paladin is saying that even though he is--or will be--the Thain, he is accountable to the rest of the Tooks for the family’s coffer, which is the means by which the servants are paid. If the Tooks observe that a certain servant is, as Uncle Paladin said, constantly idle, the family will, in due course, elect to give that servant the sack because there isn’t enough work to keep him or her busy.” Pippin looked at his older cousin with pleasant surprise.

Paladin smiled at what his tweenaged nephew had learned so far at the hands of Saradoc and Rory. Paladin felt envious of the amiable environment Merry had in which to learn his duties, unlike his own. “Very good, Merry,” Paladin said in compliment.

Pervinca now worried over her actions. “I’m sorry, Papa. I didn’t think about that.”

“But you will, starting now--if I know you as well as I believe I do,” said Paladin. “I suspect your mother needs a bit of help with last minute details for your auntie and uncle’s visit. Why don’t you go and see what you can do for her, eh?” He rose up, giving his youngest daughter a loving embrace. “Off you go, now.”

When the door shut, Paladin turned his attention back to the lads. “Now for our wee chat.”

Pippin knew then that he and Merry had their own lecture coming--and it was not a pleasant prospect. At least, not for an energetic thirteen year old hobbit-lad.

“I wish you children had come to me first before mixing yourselves in all this mischief. I do see that your intentions were good ones, and I want to commend you both for it, however, Pippin, you cannot assist Degger any further. These studies are mainly for you and are part of the process of grooming you for your eventual inheritance.” Pippin winced; he knew what that entailed in regard to his father. “This is just the beginning, son. You have a lot more coming your way that I never had in my own preparation.” Paladin got up from his chair to sit beside Pippin on the couch. He wrapped an arm round the child’s slim shoulders. “This is for you, Pip. Farming is a very respectable vocation--make no mistake, but I saw that you were destined for more than just farming since you were a faunt.”

Pippin sighed in momentary thought. “I like my studies, for the most part, Papa,” he said to his father. “But some days, I wish I was still Little Pippin swinging on the hay rope in the barn.”

Paladin smiled faintly, considering his young son. “Well,” he spoke gentler, “maybe I can help with that. I admit that all of this learning can be overwhelming a bit to a lad of your age. Perhaps plenty of holidays with cousin Frodo in Hobbiton or in Buckland with Merry might help you adjust easier. What do you think?”

Pippin smiled wide. “I’d like that.”

“One final matter to address,” Paladin said more seriously. “The matter of your poem. You will apologise to your tutor and study mates tomorrow during morning studies. I should think that Miss Hemlock and your sister found it very offensive in more ways than one.”

“Aye, Papa.”

“And as for you--” Paladin turned to his nephew, only to find him in the middle of another great yawn, “You will go directly to your room and take a long nap. I shall wake you when your parents arrive. I suspect you have been helping Degger in the evenings and then stayed up into the wee hours of the night in order to complete your own night lessons, did you not?”

Merry nodded, wiping his burning, sleep-weary eyes. “The last few mornings I’d get up early in order to study for the exam.”

Paladin affectionately patted Merry’s knee, “Speaking of which is going to happen in the morning, so I recommend that you get a proper sleep before then.

* * *

No sooner had Merry’s head hit the pillow that he felt a small jolt upon his mattress. He opened his eyes to slits, finding a familiar silhouetted figure sitting on his bed.

“Mum?” he asked with much fatigue. “I didn’t know you and dad had arrived so soon.”

“So soon?” she whispered, turning up his bedside lantern to a dull glow. “We were actually ten minutes late--Cousin Ferumbras made sure we knew about it when he greeted us at the door, saying his tea was getting cold.  I am sorry to wake you, love, but I so wanted to see your face.”

Slightly baffled, Merry turned fully in his bed to sit up and receive a hug from his mother. “What is the time, mum? And where is dad?”

“It’s nigh unto four o’clock, dear,” she answered. “Your dad is trying his best to peel himself away from my ostentatious cousin.”

“You don’t like him, either, do you mum?”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” said Esmeralda, taking herself to task…a little. “At least not aloud.” Mother and son shared a quiet snicker.

“I don’t think he and Uncle Paladin get along at all,” said Merry, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I don’t doubt that,” Esmeralda replied thoughtfully. “Ferumbras has never approved of my father’s family, considering us lowly farmers far too simple, intellectually.”

“Why is he like that, mum?” Merry asked. “Everybody has to make a living somehow--whether it’s farming, gardening, raising ponies as dad does, or apprenticing to become a healer--such as Merimas or Donnabelle.”

“Most folks, or I should say, most Tooks share your view,” said his mother, “but there are still a few who were raised a certain fashion and expect everyone else to treat them in deference. You may not have met those peculiar Tooks on this holiday at Great Smials, but the more you visit Pippin here, the more you will see them come out of the woodwork.”

Young Merry mulled over his mother’s words for a moment, then heard his tummy grumbling. Esmeralda smiled, “Seems you’ve slept away the afternoon and now you’re hungry.” They both turned toward the knock on the door.

“Hullo, Merry!” Saradoc exclaimed as he entered his son’s bedroom, taking Merry into a great big hug. “Oh, I’ve missed you--” then he spied his wife’s arched eyebrows, “we’ve missed you so much!”

Merry smiled at hearing his father’s words. “It feels nice to be missed, but...”

Saradoc wasn’t so sure he liked the ending to his son’s remark. “But what?” he asked, sitting down on the other side of his son's bed.

Merry gave a great sigh before speaking his thoughts. “You remember Degger, right?” He waited for his parents to nod. Merry went into the story of how the lad was added to the study group along with Pervinca.

Listening to her son, Esmeralda gasped, covering her mouth. “Good for Paladin!” she laughed, “To take one of the servants and educate him! My cheeky brother--no wonder the Thain isn’t happy these days.”

“But,” Merry added, “Degger isn’t doing so well in the studies. He never had lessons like Pippin or me when he was small. I offered to help him, but this morning Uncle Paladin said that Miss Hemlock would do it.” Merry looked to his dad, “Did he tell you what I did this morning?” Saradoc nodded grimly. “It seems I’ve made a big mess of things. I don’t think Miss Hemlock will understand Degger as I do--or even Pippin. I think it should be one of us who helps him catch up.”

“Paladin forbids Pippin to aid your friend,” Saradoc pointed out to his son. “Though I believe he isn’t against anyone else doing so. These lessons are for Pippin’s benefit, just as your lessons at home are for yours.”

“There must be something we can do to help, Sara,” Esmeralda put in.

“Merry, exactly what is it that you want in this matter?” Saradoc asked his son.

“I don’t know, Dad,” Merry answered, sinking further into his thoughts. “If I wasn’t in the trouble I am in, I should think I might be of help to Degger. It’s an incredible feeling to see Degger’s face light up when he suddenly understands something I’ve taught him.”

Now Saradoc gazed deep into his lad’s blue eyes and sighed. Perhaps there was more to Merry’s claim than even the lad was aware of himself. “I was really looking forward to having you round the Hall again, lad.”

Merry looked curiously at his father. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Saradoc explained, “I still have the matter of punishing you for your behaviour toward Miss Hemlock. If Paladin agrees, perhaps another fortnight of studies will help teach you some manners.” Saradoc gave his son a wink. “And then maybe you can help your friend with his studies.”

Merry brightened at the prospect of his dad’s suggestion; it was the same reasoning that he and Pippin devised a couple of days ago. However, this time he had an adult on his side. Then his face fell. “Uncle Paladin has been under a lot of strain lately. He probably won’t agree to it.”

Saradoc patted his son’s leg that still lay beneath the covers. “Leave that to me, my lad.”

Merry smiled, then slipped his hand under his pillows. “Here, Dad.”

“What’s this?” asked Saradoc, unfolding a leaf of crinkled paper.

“It’s the arithmetic problem Miss Hemlock had on her scraperboard before I…before I erased it. I wrote it down first.”

Sara shook his head with a chuckle, “What am I going to do with you, child?”  With that, he leaned over to kiss his son's bed-head curls.

TBC

Chapter Eight - Counsel Meets Wisdom

Degger sat back in his chair with a weary sigh. He’d been studying his books for tomorrow’s exam for well over….he took out his pocket watch to glance at it’s face…for well over two hours. It was close to four o’clock. Still holding the finely crafted timepiece in his hand, Degger smiled sadly at the silver watch while memories from long ago played in his mind--of his brother and father. As far as Degger knew, he was the first in his family to know his letters, let alone be educated. He wanted to do well for them--and for Mr. Paladin.

Servants normally took their tea round three o’clock, to allow for their own break and then to serve the residents in the common dining hall afterward, or the more important family members in their own apartments. Degger imagined that Miss Hemlock took hers in the dining hall, and so waited a bit to take his own tea so that his stomach would not growl in her presence and embarrass him. It was making some mighty strange noises now; he was always hungry, it seemed. Degger was in the middle of his last growth spurt, growing a whole two inches so far to stand at three foot five. Not very tall for a nineteen year old hobbit, but Degger knew he was slowly, but surely, catching up.

Rising up from his seat, Degger laid aside his book, stretched his cramped muscles, and then made his way to the door. It was a short jaunt to the kitchen, but when he arrived, Degger joined Mistress May, another kitchen servant lass named Nula, and a labour servant named Carlan, at the kitchen table. Most everyone else had probably eaten and gone to ready the tables in the dining room.

“Hullo, Mr. Degger, sir!” said Carlan, “’ave ye a mind t’ eat with the servants t’day?”

“Stop it, Carlan!” said Nula. “There’s nothin’ wrong with a bit o’ learnin’.”

Degger poured himself a cup of tea, then, ignoring Carlan’s remarks, sat down at the kitchen table. He and Carlan were roommates until Mr. Paladin moved to Great Smials and then gave Degger his own room. Carlan knew from the start six years ago that Degger was a friend of Paladin Took and family, yet at that time, no one expected Mr. Paladin to become heir to the titles of Took and Thain. Most suspected, but because of Mistress Lalia and her son, Ferumbras, making no secret of how they felt about Paladin’s family, no one expected much to come of it.

“That’s right, Nula dear,” said the kitchen mistress, handing the platter of cheese to Degger. “Don’t let the likes o’ him take away from yer learnin’.”

“That’s all right, May,” replied Degger. “He’s a free hobbit and can say what he likes.”

“That’s right,” said the tweenager, drinking the last bit of his tea, “And the more I lis’en t’ ye, the more ye sound all proper like Mr. Pippin--or worse--like that Mr. Merry.”

Degger laid down the cheese platter with a bit of force. “You can say anythin’ ye like about me, Carlan, but never--ever speak callous words about my friends!” Deep inside, Degger was right proud of himself--using one of the new words he’d learned through Mr. Merry.

Carlan glared at Degger; their old friendship hanging by a thread. “I’ve got work t’ do.” Speaking that, he got up from the table and left.

“I have t’ go help with the dinin’ hall,” said Nula, then cleared hers and May’s dishes from the table, setting them inside the wash tub. Before leaving the kitchen, she turned to Degger, “I think it’s grand that ye get t’ learn how t’ be a gentle-hobbit. I hope ye do well.” Nula blushed, as did Degger.

May had a sweet grin on her face. “She’s a right pretty lass, isn’t she?”

“Aye, mum,” he said, still blushing.

May buttered a slice of warm bread and then placed it on Degger’s plate (ever the mother). “Ye’re a bit late for tea, laddie--what kept ye?”

“Thank ye, May,” said Degger, taking a bite of the bread. “Miss Hemlock is goin’ t’ stop by my room after her tea and give me extra lessons. I was afraid I would get hungry again while she tutored me.” He bit his lip sadly, “I’m not doin’ so well, May, and I’m afraid Carlan would be only too glad t’ hear it.”

“Well, Carlan won’t ever hear it from me. And don’t let that lad bother ye,” said May, “He’s a piece o’ work, all right; he talks with honey on his tongue, but is secretly resentful of anyone with better luck than he. Guard yer back round that one, lad.”

“Aye.” After a bit more pleasant conversation, Degger drained his teacup, “I must get back t’ my room now or Miss Hemlock will be cross with me for not answerin' my door.”

“Run along, laddie,” she said, watching the teen race out of the door. Her voice filled with pleasure, May added after he’d left, “things are finally lookin’ up for ye.”

* * *

The sound of violins playing in duet filled the hallway in the tunnel where Paladin and his family dwelled. Inside the parlour sat Paladin Took’s family as well as Saradoc Brandybuck’s small family. It was *Pearl and her young brother, Pippin, who were giving a recital for the family’s guests. At the end of the song, Pearl stood and curtsied, Pippin stood and took a bow amid the applause.

“Play 'There is an Inn, a Merry Old Inn'!” shouted Merry to his cousins. Indeed, it was the same bit of Bilbo’s poetry that would later get Frodo into trouble years down the road, however, for now, it also had lively music that delighted the young at heart. As Pippin and his sister obliged, Pimpernel and Merry got up to dance accompanied by laughter and a multitude of hands clapping in time with the music.

Saradoc took note that this was the first time since he arrived this afternoon that he saw his brother-in-law genuinely smile and laugh. It didn’t take much to figure out what was wrong…and he meant to talk to Paladin about it later when they were alone.

~ ~ ~

“So tell me, Paladin,” said Saradoc, puffing as he lit his pipe, “how are things going for you here?”

Paladin had already lit his pipe and now relaxed in one of the soft chairs his children occupied earlier in the day. He and Saradoc had retired to his private study after the family gathering when his brother-in-law asked for a private word.

“Well enough,” answered Paladin discreetly.

Saradoc watched his friend with a critical eye. “So you say,” he said, “but I won’t pry into business that you wish to keep to yourself. I will ask you one question, though.”

“What is that?”

“When was the last time you went on a picnic with your family? Or took them for a carriage ride in the country?” Saradoc readily perceived that Paladin was at a loss for words. “Don’t let that beast win,” he said shaking his head. “I warrant that you have been driving yourself to the brink with trying to keep up with his whims, to learn your new position. And I am guessing that that is what he wants. Ferumbras wants you to wear yourself so thin that your life rips apart at the seams and you throw in the towel. To this end, he is purposely making your life miserable.”

Paladin’s jaw went so slack at Saradoc’s revelation the pipe in his mouth fell to the floor (thankfully not in his lap!). “How did you know?” were all the words he could muster.

“Because my own dad has dealt with your cousin, my friend, and he does not like Ferumbras one bit. My dad considers him a snivelling brat…and treats him as such--tactfully, though I might add.”

Paladin picked up his pipe, absently checking it to refill. “I…I never thought anyone else would understand--besides Addie, of course. He’s lived here under Fortinbras, Lalia and Ferumbras all his life. I believe Addie is the only person who despises Ferumbras more than I--after he went and insulted **Niola to Addie’s face just after her burial.”

Saradoc felt relieved that Paladin started to talk about his problems. “Addie is a stout hobbit--Tooks who have a sound head on their shoulders look to him for advice and such rather than Ferumbras. He would be one to have on your side when the going gets rough--though it sounds like he already is. Once you land on your feet, and I don’t think that will take long, folks will begin to see that you’re not like Ferumbras at all and will rally to you. Only the Tooks who insist on clinging to their spitefulness and old ways will try to make things difficult for you.”

Paladin’s eyes glistened in the firelight after his dear brother-in-law finished speaking. “I am so glad to have had this talk with you, Sara. I was about ready to burst.”

“I could see that,” said Sara. “And, um…there was a time that you gave me sound advice on how to be a better father to my son…so…I thought I would reciprocate. I was hoping that I wasn’t treading where I was not welcome.”

“You are always welcome, dear friend,” said Paladin. He stood up, walked over to Saradoc to give him a firm embrace.

After a few quiet moments, Saradoc implored, “I have one other request…at your consideration.”

“What is that?”

“How shall I say this?” asked Sara hesitantly. “What would you say to Merry staying on in the study group for another fortnight?”

“Another fortnight?” asked Paladin. “Sara, you know how much I love that lad, but isn’t he supposed to begin a course of study of his own to be Master?”

“Yes, but that can begin at any time. There is no set schedule for it; just that once he does start it, he won’t get much of a break in between stages--which is why I want him to have fun and take care of business as much as possible beforehand. It lasts for well over a year or so, depending on how long it takes him to study, travel, and to map the length and breadth of Buckland--and the Marish. I only go along with him to make sure he doesn’t get lost.”

“Are you certain this is what he wants?”

“Yes,” replied Saradoc, “My son told me himself that he enjoys seeing the enlightened expression on his friend’s face when he understands something he has been taught.”

“He said that?” mused Paladin. “I should wonder more if he…” Paladin trailed off.

“If he what?”

“I have another idea,” offered Paladin. “I have reason to believe that our Merry has a mind to be a tutor himself. Being Master of Buckland aside, I am willing to wager that if he wasn’t destined to be heir to the Hall, he’d be weighing the odds of being a tutor--or something else that would challenge his wits.”

Saradoc pondered Paladin’s suggestion. “I agree,” he finally said, “His remark was that he enjoyed seeing the joy of the lad when he learned something… That’s it!” Sara laughed, “I’m glad I didn’t take you up on that wager.”

Just then, a knock was heard at the door. Both hobbits turned to see who it was.

“Beggin’ yer pardon, Mr. Paladin,” said Lilly, the family’s personal server, “but Degger Greenhill is requestin’ t’ speak with ye.”

“Send him in,” said Paladin, wondering why the lad was here--Miss Hemlock was supposed to be tutoring him at this hour. A few seconds later, a slim, young lad with deep brown curls and matching eyes peered from around the threshold. “Come inside, Degger,” said Paladin. “I don’t believe you have ever met Merry’s parents, but this is his father, Saradoc Brandybuck, heir to Buckland.”

Recalling all he had learned about Buckland and the Master who led it’s people, Degger nearly forgot his manners as he gaped in awe at his elder. “Pleased to meet you, sir,” he said with a low bow. “At your service, and your family’s.” Degger then looked Saradoc in the eye, “I owe a lot to Mr. Merry, sir, Master, sir.”

Saradoc laughed, “Mr. Brandybuck will do, though should you ever visit Brandy Hall, you might have to address me as Mr. Saradoc, being that there are more Brandybucks living in Brandy Hall than Tooks living in Great Smials.”

“So, what brings you here, Degger? Has Miss Hemlock finished your studies early?”

“No, sir,” answered Degger, “That’s why I’m here. She never came.”

TBC

* That's for Pearl Took--and her violin.

**Niola is Addie's late wife.  He meets her in The Storyteller, and mentions her in a conversation with Paladin in the latter part of Merry's Big Decision.

Chapter Nine - A Change in Plans

“She never came?” Paladin asked the lad.

“No, sir.”

“Did you remember to tell her exactly where your room is?”

“I did, sir.” Degger went on to tell Paladin all that transpired that afternoon, minus the repartee between him and Carlan. He felt it wasn’t anything worth mentioning.

Paladin scratched his chin in thought, “It could be that Miss Hemlock arrived just before you returned to your room from tea and thought you were out on errand.” He turned to his brother-in-law. “Sara, please excuse us for a few minutes--I really must attend to this matter. Perhaps when I am finished, you and I can sit down together with Merry before supper.”

Saradoc smiled, “Certainly--Merry will be thrilled when he hears about our plan.”

Degger and Paladin traversed the hallways until they came upon the door to the teen’s room. Together, they beheld a small rolled up paper tied to the door handle with a lass’s hair ribbon.

How odd, thought Paladin. Then again, he mused, Degger is at that age…  

“This wasn’t here when I left, sir,” said Degger, untying the red ribbon--and hoping against hope that it wasn’t a note filled with sweet nothings written by a secret admiring lass; it had happened once before. He didn’t mind getting the admirer’s note--just that reading one in the presence of Mr. Paladin would be a bit embarrassing.

Once loosed from the handle, Degger made quick work of sliding the scroll out of the ribbon’s loop and unrolling it. He read aloud, though hesitantly as a novice would:

“Mr. Degger Greenhill,

I must a…polo…gise for not arriving as I had pro…mised. The ladies in my family have a history of severe head…aches, and,” Degger stopped when he stumbled upon a larger word.

Paladin gently prompted the lad, “Break it into smaller words as you did with ‘apologise’.” He was standing behind Degger reading the letter over his shoulder.

“Un…for…tun…ate…ly,” Degger softly enunciated the word, repeating it twice to himself, committing it to memory. When Degger imagined he had it down, he looked to his guardian, who nodded with approval. Grasping the seriousness of the letter, Degger didn’t grin broadly at his accomplishment, though he couldn’t help the gleam of joy that shone in his eyes.

Onward, the teen went, still faltering a bit, “and, unfortunately, t'day I have one of them. I am not feeling well at all. I ask that ye please forgive the delay of this letter and inform Mr. Paladin about my illness. Sin…cere…ly, Miss Hemlock.”

Paladin patted Degger’s shoulder, giving him a brief smile, though Miss Hemlock’s headache niggled at the back of his mind.

“Degger, why don’t you go and spend some time with Merry and Pippin, and then join us for supper, eh? If you see my daughter Pearl about, please send her to meet me at Miss Hemlock’s room.”

* * *

Not only was Pearl about, it was she and Merry who were engaging young Pippin in a bit of fun. Merry sat upon Pippin while he and Pearl made the young teen squirm and cry out in laughter. Pearl stood above both lads, violin in one hand, while gently jabbing at various parts of her brother’s ribs with the tip of her bow held in her other hand.

Pearl bore a mischievous grin on her face. “Now tell me who the better fiddle player is!”

Pippin shrieked with laughter, “I told you already!”

Pearl shook her head in mock sadness, “No, you didn’t. That name sounded too much like yours.”

Now Merry tickled Pippin. “And who is the better flute player?”

“Me!” Poor Pippin wriggled as his cousin and sister assailed him with more tickling. Mere minutes ago, the youngster sat blithely playing a game of draughts while boasting of his own talents--which in his opinion (jesting, I might add) far exceeded theirs.

“Wrong answer!” said Merry, then paused in his merciless tickling just enough to let his young cousin take in a few breaths.

Degger watched the fun from the entryway smiling, letting it take him back years ago to happy memories when he and his own brother and sister would play in like manner. After a respectful moment, he stepped forward. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Miss Pearl, yer dad asked that ye meet him at Miss Hemlock’s room.”

Pearl looked to Degger, “He did? Do you know why?”

“He didn’t say so t’ me, Miss,” replied Degger, “but it might have t’ do with Miss Hemlock bein’ sick.” Everyone perked up at those last few words.

Pearl promptly put away her violin and bow, brushing past Degger as she walked out of the room to meet with her father.

Merry also put aside the tickling; he got up to sit at the game table where he and Pippin were playing draughts prior to accosting the lad. “Miss Hemlock is sick? That isn’t good news at all,” he said.

Pippin was genuinely sorry to hear about Miss Hemlock, however, he couldn’t help but bemoan his thoughts. “One more delay in taking the exam,” he whined. “I should like to get this done and over with.” He scanned the faces of both his friends for a reaction, yet his eyes rested upon Degger still standing in the doorway. “Degger,” said Pippin, “I am not going to invite you into the parlour because you must know by now that you’re more like family than a servant. So you may as well make your own way over to the couch and sit down.”

Degger understood that Pippin was having a jest, however, since participating in the study group the young lad was now even more aware than ever before regarding his social status. He knew exactly how Mr. Merry, Mr. Pippin and his family felt, however, not everyone in Great Smials felt the same way as they did--on either side of the fence. Degger would rather be scolded by a younger hobbit-teen over entering a room than risk being presumptuous, which could have detrimental consequences if done in the presence of the wrong person. Thus, he retained the practice of waiting to be invited--how ever formal--or informal--that invitation might be.

Making his way over to the couch, Degger sat down with a plop upon the cushion. “At least ye don’t have the added weight o’ havin’ t’ pass--or else,” he replied to the lads.

Merry sent a worried glance over to Pippin. “Or else, what?” he asked Degger.

“Or else I’m a failure. I hear the talk, ye know,” Degger spoke softly. “Mr. Paladin will have t’ kick me out o’ the study group.”

“You’re not a failure, Degger!” argued Pippin. “My father would have said something to you by now if taking you out of the study group was an option.” However, Pippin clearly recalled his father’s slip of the tongue during his and Merry’s lecture earlier that day.

“Pippin’s right,” Merry put in, “You’re not a failure--because we won’t let you fail.”

Merry and Pippin’s comments encouraged Degger even though all he could think about now was all the studying that still lay before him. He didn’t mind hard work, but dealing with those like Carlan or the Thain began to take its toll on the lad--and started to affect his self-esteem. “Either way,” Degger said further, “I got lots more readin’ t’ do ‘fore t’morrow mornin’.”

Ever the tutor, Merry promptly corrected his ‘student’. “You mean you have a lot more reading to do before tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that what I said?” asked a very baffled Degger…just before the lights went on. “Oh!” he smiled and then laughed, “I said it all wrong!” Degger became pensive; So, that’s what Carlan was tryin’ t’ tell me…

Little did Degger understand at this point that this grammatical awakening would mark the beginning of an inner struggle he would endure for years to come. “Thank ye, Mr. Merry.”

“It’s just a way of saying things, is all,” said Merry, also smiling. “My mum always corrected my grammar, so I couldn’t help myself just now. But don’t be discouraged, Degger--you’ve learnt a great deal in just a short time.”

More small talk went on until Paladin burst into the room followed by Saradoc, the latter merely shrugged when his son cast him a curious glance. “Merry…Degger--we need to talk,” announced Paladin, then looked to his son, intending this conversation for just a few ears. “Pippin, if you please.”

“Why, Papa?” he pleaded; Pippin loved to be in on secretive information, though he was old enough to know when to keep his lips sealed about it. “I won’t interrupt--I promise.”

“Very well,” his father answered in haste, “but please be quiet until you are invited into the conversation, do you understand?” He waited for Pippin to nod.

“Miss Hemlock is very ill with a terrible headache,” Paladin stated to the small group. “I highly doubt she’ll be able to rise for breakfast in the morning, let alone invigilate an exam. Pearl and the healer, Mistress Besom, are with her as we speak.”

“It’s not serious, is it?” asked Saradoc.

“She complained of not being able bear light or sound in addition to having an upset stomach,” answered Paladin. "She sent a note by way of a servant-lass which prompted me to pay a visit to ensure it wasn't serious, as you said."

Saradoc made a sour face, “My mother used to get those sort of headaches once in a while. She would shut herself in an inner apartment and no one was to disturb her until she emerged, usually a couple of days later.”

“Apparently, so does Miss Hemlock,” remarked Paladin. “I do hope she feels better tomorrow, however, we are proceeding as if she may not. So, now for the good news--if you want to call it that: the exam will take place as planned tomorrow morning.” The young lads all clapped their hands--not so much for the joy of taking a test, but because it would finally be done and over.

“And the bad news…,” Paladin continued, “is that Ferumbras will administer it.”

You could hear a pin drop in the parlour when the lads heard the last part.

“Why Ferumbras, Papa?” asked Pippin, ignoring the fact that he had not been invited into the conversation yet.

Paladin sat down beside his young son, “Because I cannot do it--I have two children and one unofficial ward participating. I should like to keep our integrity indisputable. What is more, I do not expect you children to study relentlessly for too long without anything to show for your efforts. Besides,” he added ruefully, “Ferumbras saw me in the hallway after leaving Miss Hemlock‘s room and I couldn’t very well lie to him, could I?”

“I could,” Pippin replied glumly.

“What about my dad?” asked Merry. He, too, wasn’t overly excited over the idea of Ferumbras. “It isn’t as if I am a legitimate student in this group--I am only here for my part in abetting Pippin’s mischief.”

Pippin shot his favourite cousin a sharp gaze then bit his tongue; Well it wasn’t as if it was completely my idea!

Saradoc raised his eyebrows at his son, “True, but then you became a legitimate student the second your uncle opened his purse, offering to settle up your teaching.”

“Oh.” Merry sat back in his chair.

“I’m sorry, lads,” said Paladin, “There’s nothing for it but to forge ahead--which leads us to something else we wanted to discuss mainly with Merry and Degger.”

“But I want to stay,” said Pippin.

“I am not asking you to leave again, Pip,” said Paladin, placing an arm round his son. “I don’t want you to feel as if we’re trying to exclude you, but I should like for you to understand that what we are speaking of should not be repeated to anyone other than whom you see here.”

Slowly but surely, Paladin had been awakening to the idea that Pippin could easily become jealous of the attention Degger was receiving from him. Yes, Pippin understood that Degger needed help right now with his studies, however, until six weeks ago, Pippin wasn’t used to sharing his papa with another lad (other than Merry) on a daily basis. Paladin made a mental note to ask his beloved child how he felt about it when he tucked him into bed later.

“What are you going to propose?” Pippin asked with a very serious expression to equal that of his father’s.

Paladin smiled at Pippin’s earnestness, then gave Saradoc a nod. Saradoc took over from here. “We’re proposing that Merry become Degger’s secondary tutor--after the exam tomorrow and he graduates.”

Degger looked to Merry, wearing a big grin. Merry gasped in pure delight; his wish had come true--without the dreadful price of having two additional weeks of night-work and morning studies!

“One more thing,” Paladin interrupted the bubbling excitement, “After Merry’s little ceremony, we’re all going on a picnic--and that includes you, too, Degger. We’re all going to need a bit of respite after dealing with Ferumbras first thing in the morning.”

“Ceremony?” Merry asked with great surprise.

“Yes--ceremony!” Paladin laughed at the expression on his nephew’s face. “So, you had better give your best clothes to the launderer now so that you look your best.”

TBC

Chapter Ten - Best Efforts

Eglantine quietly stepped into the parlour where her husband and Saradoc were having a smoke and a chat. She tenderly wrapped her arms round Paladin’s neck from behind, gently kissing his neck. “The lasses have all settled into bed, love, if you want to kiss them goodnight.”

“Hullo, dearest,” Paladin greeted his wife, returning her gesture with a peck on her lips. “Of course I do!” He then pulled out his pocket watch upon its silver chain. “Half past ten o’clock!” he said. “Tell them I’ll be there in a few minutes, if you please.”

Paladin gazed over to the game table in the far corner; Pippin and Merry were talking and snickering in low volumes while playing draughts, study books scattered upon the tea table near the couch. And upon the couch lay a slumbering form who went by the name of Degger--his own study book lay open in an awkward position in his arms. After supper, the three lads and Pervinca got together for a quick study session for tomorrow’s exam.

Rather than yell across the room and risk disturbing the sleeping teen, Paladin rose from his chair, crossing the expanse of the room in a few strides.

“Pippin!” he softly spoke to his son, “You were supposed to be in bed by ten o’clock--seems neither one of us was watching the time closely. Come now--you both can finish the game tomorrow.”

Reluctantly, but obediently, Pippin got up and then promptly yawned. “All right,” he said.

“What are we going to do about Degger?” asked Merry with a nod in the lad’s direction.

“Poor lad is exhausted. He’ll just have to sleep here on the couch tonight,” answered Paladin, “He’s no longer the little lad that I brought home six years ago, so lifting him is out of the question. Pippin, fetch me your extra quilt from in your wardrobe, if you please.”

While Pippin went to retrieve the requested item, Saradoc took his leave, bidding his brother-in-law a good night. Saradoc did feel that it was in his son’s best interest to sleep in a familiar environment in order to be fully rested for the exam, however, thereafter Merry was expected to join his family in the Master’s suite.

Pippin soon returned with the bundled quilt in his arms, putting it upon the tea table.

“Thank you, Pip,” said Paladin, “now off with you to get ready for bed--I’ll be there soon to kiss you good night.”

Once everybody had left the parlour, Paladin carefully extracted the book from between Degger’s arms, placing it on the tea table with the rest of his books. Paladin next unfolded the quilt, covering the youth and then tucked the ends in underneath the couch cushions--fortunately without disturbing the lad. He stole a glance at the sleeping young teen; this sweet-natured waif had been through so much in just seven short years, thus Paladin did not feel the least bit guilty for indulging the lad whenever possible. Except when it came to Pippin.

Paladin stoked the low fire in the hearth before taking another look at the sleeping teen. “Sleep well, Degger,” whispered Paladin. Turning down the only lit lantern, the Thain-in-training stood up, walking quietly out of the room.

After bidding each of his daughters a goodnight, Paladin made a brief stop in his own room before making his way to Pippin’s bedroom. As he entered his son’s room, Paladin noticed a white blur dart from bed to bureau then back to bed again. Paladin folded his arms across his chest, eyeing his young son, “Just what were you doing, Pippin?”

“Nothing, Papa,” answered Pippin ever so innocently.

“Nothing my eye,” said Paladin with a slight grin. He ambled over to where he saw Pippin scurry to and from. “Just as I thought.”

“I only ate one,” Pippin confessed.

“And a half,” said Paladin, taking a bite out of the half-eaten apple Pippin hastily hid under his wash towel. Paladin opened the top drawer of his son’s desk, revealing a dozen more shiny red apples in addition to one dried core and one fresh core--both cleaned down to the cartilage. Paladin knew Pippin had always kept a few apples in his desk, both here and at Whitwell, but a dozen? He surmised that his little laddie was getting ready for his first growth spurt. “You may as well finish it,” Paladin said round his own mouthful of apple. He took out the cores before shutting the drawer, then climbed into bed beside Pippin, handing his son the sweet fruit to finish off. “And don’t forget to pitch those old cores I laid on top in the morning.”

Pippin was quite surprised with his father tucking himself under the bed covers with him; he hadn’t done this since moving from Whitwell six weeks ago. The slim lad munched on his apple while making room for the larger hobbit. “What’s the occasion?” he asked.

“None, really,” replied Paladin. “However, your uncle made me realise earlier that I had been missing out on something very, very important.”

“What is that?”

Getting himself comfortable in the bed, Paladin placed his free hand on the other side of Pippin’s face, gently bringing the near side of his bulging cheek closer for a loving kiss. “You!” he said with a smile. “And your sisters. I have been terribly lacking when it comes to spending time with my family of late. I hope you will forgive me.”

“I do,” said Pippin. He took another bite of the apple and smiled, snuggling up to his father.

Paladin nestled beside his son then draped an arm round him, drinking in the smell of apples in autumn. “I should also ask a question of you--and I pray that you answer truthfully.”

Pippin stopped chewing; this sounded serious. He laid aside his apple (pretty much a bare core by now) and turned to face his father. “What is it, Papa?”

Paladin took in a deep breath and then forged ahead. “Have you ever felt jealous over the time I have spent with Degger?”

“Jealous?” Pippin repeated almost absently. He mulled it over for a minute before answering. “Well…I guess I have felt a little jealous at times. You’re my papa, yet…I know Degger needs a papa, too.”

“Ah, my sweet lad,” sighed Paladin, kissing his son’s honey-brown ringlets. “I am so sorry. *I can’t explain why, but…for some strange reason I feel as if that responsibility has been placed upon my shoulders.”

Merry would always be the brother that Pippin wished for while Degger would always remain the good and loyal friend. In his young mind, Pippin didn’t object to that. Pippin snuggled as close to his father as he could get when he uttered his next words. “I suppose…if I’m to share my papa with another lad--or lads, then my choices would be Merry and Degger--but I don’t think I want to share you with any more than that. Is that all right?”

“It’s very much all right,” Paladin said softly, still snuggling his son. “No more ‘other’ lads.” He kissed Pippin on his brow, “Always know that you are my flesh and blood, Pippin. You are my first-born and only son--my rightful heir. You know how much I love Merry and why. And as for Degger, he does desperately need a papa right now--and a good friend or two never goes amiss.” Paladin smiled when his son kissed him in return. He whispered, “I love you, Pippin, and I truly admire you.”

Pippin grinned; no one had ever admitted admiration of him before--especially a grown-up. “I love you, too, Papa.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pippin was shocked into the world of the living when he awoke to the sound of a tingling hand bell beside his ear.

“Wake up, Master Sluggard!” said Merry, a gleam of mischief in his blue eyes.

“Oy!” shouted Pippin in effort to be heard above the noise. He pushed Merry’s hand away, “Can’t a hobbit-teen get proper sleep round here?”

Merry laughed, sitting himself down upon his cousin’s bed. “Not today, you slug. Today is the exam,” he said. “It’s seven o’clock; Aunt Tina sent me in to fetch you from your beloved slumber. First breakfast is on the table, so hurry up.”

After breakfast, Pippin, Merry, Pervinca, and Degger all headed to the study room for the long awaited exam. When they entered, Ferumbras was already seated with the official documents set before him on Miss Hemlock’s desk. He did not greet any of the students, and he received none in return. Without a word, the Thain began passing round the exam papers and scraperboards. Suddenly his voice broke through the silence in the room.  “There will be no talking, no cheating. Anyone caught doing so will be expelled from the exam and immediately dismissed from the study group. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes,” they all answered.

“You,” Ferumbras singled out one of the students, “Degger; you will take your things and sit at the desk over in the far corner.”

This corner was known as Pippin’s time-out spot whenever he acted out during studies. Ever the bold one, Pippin demanded, “Why? What has he done wrong?”

“Silence!” Ferumbras shouted at the lad. “I owe no one an explanation. The exam will begin in less than one minute, so I suggest to the slowcoach servant here to make due haste.”

Degger didn’t argue--he merely picked up his books and removed himself to the far corner as directed. Pippin was not happy; he made a mental note to tell his father about Cousin Ferumbras’ behaviour.

“Begin.” Ferumbras’ voice echoed throughout the room.

For the first hour, the only noise in the room was the steady ticking of the pendulum clock upon the wall. The sound of papers being ruffled could be heard every now and then, however, silence, for the most part, reigned inside the children’s study. Ten minutes into the second hour, Pippin was the first child to rise from his seat, handing the Thain his finished exam. Not a word was exchanged between them…initially. Pippin stole a glance in Degger’s direction as he made his way toward the door. He hesitated, seeing Degger hover close to his paper, nervously tapping his quill upon the blotter.

“You are to leave the room, Peregrin Took,” Ferumbras commanded in a low tone. Too bad he didn’t use this tone with his overbearing mother. “The rest of you have fifty minutes to complete your exam,” Ferumbras added, aiming a smug grin toward Degger. The Thain’s remark had the desired affect; when Degger looked up, Pippin recognised the expression of shear terror on the teen’s face. Pippin crossed his fingers for his friend.

Five minutes later, Merry was next to get up, handing in his exam. Ten more minutes passed when Pervinca finally got up, handed her finished exam to the Thain and then left. Degger was the only child remaining.

Ferumbras rose up from his chair to stretch his legs, but found the act to be a bit distracting--for Degger. The elder hobbit had an idea. He continually paced about the room, particularly where the boards creaked under his feet; noting that it broke the concentration of the teen. He sighed quite audibly in an attempt to express his impatience with waiting for the last exam. He took his pocket watch out of his waistcoat pocket, opened the lid, then shut it loudly. Ferumbras performed various methods of distraction for the next twenty five minutes. He finally walked over to the window and opened the sheers…and then the window. A swift warm breeze swept through the room--and Degger’s papers. Degger tried to catch the papers to no avail before they blew to the floor.

Ferumbras grinned, watching the lad scurry across the room to pick up his lost papers. “Hurry up, lad--I don’t have all day to waste.” More ticking from the clock.

“Five minutes,” Ferumbras announced coldly.

Degger looked at the clock; he knew how to tell time, and the time he saw gave him eight minutes. But what are three minutes when the answers continually elude the examinee?

“Time.”

Sadly, Degger gathered is unfinished exam and his books, handing them to the invigilator on his way toward the door.

Ferumbras smiled gleefully, “I know you won’t disappoint me lad. You will utterly fail and no one will be happier to see it than me. You are an obtuse servant and will always remain so.”

Trudging down the hallway, Degger didn’t know what ‘obtuse’ meant; he’d have to consult his dictionary when he got back to his room.

TBC

* This bit was inspired by Garnet Took; remember Paladin's remark. ;-)

Chapter Eleven - The Measure of a Hobbit

The young gardener dropped his tools onto the dry earth and then carefully set down the large bucket of water he had carried. Degger stopped by the head gardener’s shed to borrow a hand rake and gloves, but old Nod wasn’t there, so the lad borrowed the needed implements to work his own bit of garden. Old Nod knew the young hobbit came by each day to tend his plants, which grew from one lilac bush to several varying shrubs. The lad quickly inspected the height and girth of the lilac bush, the leaves for any insects, and then smiled in satisfaction. He then sat down to begin aerating the soil round the base before giving it a generous amount of water. This was a special mixture of water and other ingredients that both Nod and Mr. Pippin said would make his plants healthy and strong.

Degger felt comfortable out here in the garden. It was always peaceful; out here, he was not the centre of controversy, feeling it pull him one way or the other--nor were there books filled with words and sums that he could barely understand. Here In the garden he could relax and listen to the birds singing, smell the fresh air, and tend the things that he made grow.

The teen paused to wipe the sweat trickling down his temples, looking up into the clear blue heavens of the Tooklands. A few small puffy clouds sailed overhead, though for the most part, the sky was sunny, the air fairly warm for early Thrimmidge, the grass a deep green. Today would be a good day for a picnic…that is, Degger thought, if he did well enough on the exam. Oh, how he hoped against hope that the news would be good when he returned to his room. With all the studying and hard work, Degger was sure that he would at least scrape by. He did not want to be deemed a failure. It would mean that he failed the people he cherished the most--Mr. Paladin, his study-mates--especially Mr. Merry.

Dare he go back to this room? What if he ran into that…well, that mean old hobbit Ferumbras? No, he couldn’t risk it; he just might say the wrong thing to the Took and Thain and be given the sack, ending up right back where he was before; living between houses in a filthy alley. Degger hacked harder at the dirt, channelling his anger at the unfair treatment through the garden tool to the soil, though careful not to damage the roots of his lilac. Before long, Degger heard footsteps shuffling up the pathway and then stop just short of his garden.

“Hullo, Degger.”

The lad again looked up, shading his eyes from the bright light. “Hullo, Mr. Paladin,” Degger greeted his benefactor, then went back to work. His stomach suddenly felt as if a boulder lay inside it. Surely, if there was good news Mr. Paladin would have called him inside the smial to commend his efforts along with his study-mates.

“I thought I might find you out here,” said the elder hobbit, sitting down beside the teen. Paladin observed the sapling shrub Degger was digging at. “Your lilac bush is coming up beautifully,” he said. “I have been told that you excel at gardening.”

Degger made no reply.

“Degger…”

Degger stopped digging. He did not look up. “I didn’t pass, did I?” he asked softly.

There was a long pause from Paladin before he spoke again. “No. I’m sorry, Degger.” He waited for the expected reaction from the lad, and seemingly at first, there was none. He spoke again, “Miss Hemlock was feeling better after second breakfast, so we gave her the exams to look over. She tried her best to give you the added benefit of accepting incomplete answers, but…less than half of those gave her an acceptable summary of the question asked.”

Degger tried his best to blink back the stinging tears threatening to spill over and fall to the ground. He sat as still as a stone, staring blankly at the broken earth…feeling his own heart being crushed likewise as he listened to his elder speak. The teen almost succeed in holding back his tears, but then Degger once again heard Ferumbras’ cutting words echo inside his head; Failure. Failure! Degger could no longer hold it all inside; his lips trembled…his vision blurred with tears.

Seeing Degger was about to fall to pieces, Paladin took the lad into his arms, allowing him to quietly sob onto his shoulder. After a while, Paladin broke the silence. “Oh, Degger-lad. I’m so sorry for doing this to you. This is all my fault.”

“It’s no one’s fault but my own,” said Degger, pulling away, sniffling. “I’m obtuse.”

“Obtuse?” asked Paladin, “From where--or whom--did you learn that word?”

“It’s not important,” said Degger, wiping his eyes with his bare forearm, as his shirt sleeves were rolled up. “Maybe I should go back t’ washin’ dishes and carryin’ things back an’ forth from the cellars.”

Paladin, by now, had a pretty good idea from whom Degger learned the word. He reached into his pocket to offer the lad a handkerchief. “If that is what you want to do--after you graduate, then that is fine with me. There is nothing dishonourable in ferrying provender from the cellars, nor with washing dishes. But I believe that you are a very bright lad, and before long, you will no longer be satisfied with simple labour. You already thirst for more knowledge, am I wrong?”

Degger said nothing, aimlessly breaking up small chunks of dirt between his fingers while keeping his mind on Mr. Paladin’s words.

“Don’t give up, Degger,” said Paladin, “Please.”

“I tried my best…an’ it still wasn’t good enough t’ pass.”

“Yes, you worked very hard, Degger,” said Paladin, “and that is why I don’t want you to quit. It isn’t that your hard work wasn’t good enough to pass--if Miss Hemlock could grade you on effort alone, she told me that you would be at the top of your study group.” Degger’s expression brightened up a bit at hearing these words, so Paladin went on. “The problem was that we did not consider the advantage the other children had over you until a week ago when it became fully evident. That is our fault, Degger--not yours. However, this time, Miss Hemlock and I are planning to set you up for success.”

Now Degger looked up at Paladin. “This time? I wasn’t gonna go back because I thought I was sacked.”

Paladin laughed, “No, son, I will never give you--or anybody the sack when it comes to education, in spite of what you may have heard of late. I will tell you this first hand though; throughout the next study period, you will attend morning studies as you have for the past three and a half weeks, however, in the afternoon, instead of working in the kitchen, you will have a few hours with Merry to aid you in catching up to your peers. When he feels you are ready, you will retake the first period exam--and I know this time you will pass with high honours.”

“Then I will work in the kitchen at night?” asked Degger.

“Not at all, Degger,” answered Paladin. “As your self-appointed guardian, I have decided that you need to focus all of your attention on your studies. In the afternoons, when Merry is finished with you, your time is your own, however, I expect you to have all of your night work completed and ready to hand in to Miss Hemlock in the morning.” Paladin chuckled, “Don’t make the mistake Pippin did when cousin Frodo wanted to help him celebrate becoming a teen.”

“Do Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin know about…?”

Paladin nodded. “Well, I don’t know about Pippin, but I suspect Merry doesn’t keep many secrets from his cousin--and not to disgrace you. Merry will be your secondary tutor; he had the right to know.”

“I suppose.”

“They’re waiting for you in the parlour to congratulate you.”

Baffled, Degger asked, “For what?”

“For not quitting. For having the courage to forge ahead with the second study period.” Paladin thought he saw a smile, albeit a sad one, lift at each corner of Degger’s mouth. “And with that said,” he continued, “we are both going to go back inside the smial--I’ll give you a few minutes to clean up, and then we will all attend Merry’s graduation ceremony. He has also worked hard, deserving to have his family and friends there to support him. Then we’re all off to a picnic!”

Degger was the first to his feet, then helped Paladin up. Gathering up the gardening tools, Degger accompanied Paladin inside the shelter of Great Smials.

* * * * * * *

Miss Hemlock stood at the lectern set up in the parlour addressing the group of Tooks, cousins and siblings of her small study group. She wanted to say a few words about each of her students before giving Merry his certificate.

“I wish to thank everyone for taking time out of their busy schedules to attend this important observance. Before I go further with introducing the graduate, I should like to say how much of a pleasure it has been working with these four wonderful children, and I look forward to beginning the second study period with the remaining three students next week.

“Now, without further ado, Mr. Meriadoc Brandybuck.” Hands came together for much applause while Merry, blushing slightly, made his way up to the front of the room. To make his favourite cousin more embarrassed, Pippin put his fingers in his mouth to give a shrill whistle; Everard Took shouted, “Good old Merry!”

Merry stood straight and tall at the lectern, smiling at his friends, then it disappeared as he tried to make himself appear more serious. It was quite a difficult task with Pippin sitting in the front row sneaking in a silly face now and then in order to make his cousin laugh. He nervously fidgeted with the silver studs in his cuffs, then tugged on his jacket sleeves.

“Ladies and gentle-hobbits,” he began, clearing his throat for better projection of his voice. “I also want to thank my family and friends for gathering here for my graduation.” Here Merry smirked, “Not many hobbits get the chance to graduate twice.” Soft laughter emitted from the audience. “I won’t go into just how I ended up in Pippin’s study group, but…well, I did. And I must confess that after a week, I actually came to enjoy it…again.” More snickering from the juniors. “During the first week, I learned how well my cousin, Pippin, and I work together; we make a formidable team.” Merry smiled at Pippin. “Initially, we each had our own weaknesses, but then we came together to succeed in spite of a huge obstacle set before us by our first tutor. And then our ‘teamwork’ extended to serving worms to our poor unsuspecting new tutor, Miss Hemlock, to which another week was added to my pun--I mean, to my tenure. This past week, I have learned how much I like to help others learn, so you will yet see me round the tunnels for some time to come.” Pausing to grapple his next words, Merry allowed his mind to wander for a very brief second, sending a silent ‘thank you’ to the heavens because tutoring Degger meant that he’d be here for the summer fair--and so would Estella Bolger.

Merry realised that he probably let his mind wander for just a tad too long when he was startled back to the present with Miss Hemlock standing close beside him at the lectern. She mistook his hesitation for being finished with his speech. “Sorry,” he apologised to Miss Hemlock when he bumped into her, garnering more giggles from the onlookers.

Miss Hemlock pulled out a swatch of dark cloth with fine embroidery stitched into a design. She used a jewelled straight pin to attach it to the left breast of the lad’s jacket. “Meriadoc Brandybuck, you are hereby graduated from Hemlock Academy.” She next handed the young tween a scrolled document tied with a blue ribbon.

Thunderous applause ensued from the audience as they stood to their feet cheering Merry. The proudest, no doubt, were his mother and father beaming from the front row.

Sitting on the very end of the front row, was Degger, a slight smile on his face as he watched the well-wishers go up to hug Mr. Merry or pat him on the back. Through the rush of hobbits, Merry met his gaze, giving his “student” a nod of approval.

“It’s time to get ready for the picnic, Degger,” said Pippin, bounding into the seat beside the older teen.

“In a minute, Mr. Pippin, if ye please” answered Degger, “I have t’ congra…congraduate…” His brow furrowed as he tried desperately to remember how Mr. Paladin said the word. “Con…”

“Con-grat-u-late,” said Pippin, helping his friend along.

“Yes--I still want t’ congratulate Mr. Merry,” Degger said, repeating the long word more slowly.

Pippin grinned mischievously, “I’ll congratulate him later after I push him into the stream at Whitstone Meadow!”

Degger smiled at the small, perky teen who continually made life--and studying--interesting, then his gaze went back to watching the small gathering at the lectern.

Pippin followed Degger’s eyes over to where Merry still stood shaking hands and receiving tributes. “That’s going to be us in Foreyule,” he commented almost wistfully.

“Or Yulemath, as any self-respectin’ Bucklander would say,” said Degger, giving Pippin a wink.

“Degger!” Pippin nearly shouted with glee, “You remembered that from early this week when we were studying the Oldbucks and Buckland, didn’t you?”

“Some things stick in my head,” replied Degger with an impish grin, “but then they run outta the holes when it comes time t’ take an exam.”

“Oh, stop it, Degger,” said Pippin, playfully nudging him. “We’re going to be up there come Foreyule because Merry’s going to take good care of you. You’re going to pass all the exams--and that old goat won’t be able to do a thing about it.” Pippin laughed when he saw the expression on Degger’s face. “I told papa what he did to you--I hope goats can run fast because papa wasn’t happy about it at all.”

Soon, Merry bade Everard and his sister, Sadabelle, farewell, then walked over to where Pippin and Degger sat. “Degger!” he said, patting the lad on the shoulder, “I’m glad to see you didn’t quit. I was worried about that.” Merry grinned, “I was also a bit worried that I would never get the chance to show my knack for teaching.”

Degger smiled, looking from one friend to the other. “Well…I don’t think I had a chance t’ quit if ye or Mr. Pippin had anythin’ t’ do with it.”

Merry laughed, placing an arm round Degger and Pippin's shoulder as the three of them walked out of the parlour, Merry between them.  “You’re right about that! We are a formidable team…”

The End

Epilogue - The Saga Continues…

This is the end of Merry’s Graduation. This is what the entire story was *supposed* to be about, lol, but then backstory (and Ferumbras) came into play…and well, you know the rest.

Merry does go on to tutor Degger for a few months, “milking” his holiday for all he can get, lol. How successful Merry is, we’ll see in the next tale. ;-) Various portions of what was said or done in this story will come up again in a forthcoming tale that resumes the storyline of Paladin and Ferumbras, either by way of backstory or deed. We shall have to wait and see. The story is not yet titled, but growing everyday in size.

Thank you to Grey Wonderer for the nudge to write this tale…lol, I had fun with it. I got a kick out of Dreamflower’s name for my Ferumbras: prat. Oh, that is so fitting for him. :-) A HUGE thank you to Garnet Took for all the betas. I got to most of the errors you caught, but there are some that I probably still missed. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and leave an encouraging word--Pearl, Dreamflower, Garnet, G.W., Anso, Bodkin…Larner…hope I didn’t miss anyone. (Well, I did!  A special thank you goes to Harrowcat--thank you for all your encouragement, too! :-) PF, 1/16/06)  As I’ve told someone recently, I get 40 miles to the gallon with encouragement.

Take care,

PF