Written for Marigold’s Challenge #29. The challenge this time was for the author to choose her own elements from four provided categories. The elements I chose were a sibling, a strange occurrence, a farm and a baker.

Beta: Marigold

A/N: This is another story inspired by “In Darkness Buried Deep”. In that story, Esmeralda mentioned an incident her husband had in his youth involving a goose, an incident Saradoc didn’t much care to be reminded about. Now I know why. :P

How to Cook a Goose

Saradoc is 13, Merimac 11 and Marmadas 10 (about 8, 7 and 6 ½ in Man years)

Blotmath 1353 SR

Menegilda looked at her two lads sternly but kindly, as they waited patiently for instruction. Tomorrow was the Big Day, as Menegilda called it. Her youngest sister-in-law, Primula, was getting married tomorrow and today would be filled with the customary pre-wedding activities. Gilda, along with all the other Brandybuck matrons, would be busy today with the various activities and last-minute arrangements, and she needed to decide what to do with her sons.

Saradoc and Merimac usually spent the mornings in their studies with their Great-Aunt Melantha, but there would be no studies this morning. Melantha was the oldest of Master Gorbadoc’s two sisters, the youngest being Evanthe, and both the sisters would be spending the morning with their sister-in-law, Mirabella, and their niece Primula. The lads weren’t exactly sure why the matrons would be spending the whole day with Aunt Prima, nor why their own mother and all their Brandybuck aunts and female cousins would be joining them after elevenses. They only knew that it had something to do with the wedding tomorrow, that Primula needed to be instructed what to do and try on the dress for final alterations and learn about what it means to be a wife. The lads suspected that there was more to it than just that – Saradoc had spied some of the serving maids carry several bottles of fine wine to their grandmother’s apartment, where all the matrons and lasses would be gathering after elevenses – but their mother refused to tell them anything further.

Gilda considered her lads. She could tell they were nearly squirming with their desire to be free and run about. She suppressed a smile and placed her hands on her hips. “You lads are on your own today,” she stated. “You’re to be on your utmost best behavior. I don’t want to hear any complaints about either of you,” she finished, looking especially hard at Saradoc.

“Yes, Mother,” they chimed sweetly.

“Your father will be busy with Grandfather Gorbadoc and the other fellows, seeing to Drogo and his Baggins relations, and neither of us will have time for any of your foolishness,” she went on.

“Yes, Mother.”

“You’re to stay in bounds at all times,” she said. “If I hear word that you put one furry toe out of bounds, I’ll tether you to the Hall’s front doors and leave you there for a day.”

“Yes, Mother,” they agreed easily. ‘In bounds’ meant the area east of the River, north of Ferry Road, west of Bucklebury Road and south of Crickhollow Lane. That left them with plenty of land to explore as they whiled away the day.

“Get on to first breakfast then. I take it Madi will be spending the day with you as well. Make sure he knows the rules,” Gilda said of their second cousin and best friend Marmadas Brandybuck.

“Yes, Mother!” the lads called as they bolted out the door, thrilled at their good luck. No studies and a day to spend outside all on their own! Their female relations should get married more often.

A half-hour later, with their bellies full of first breakfast and a bag of warm sweet buns to see them through to second breakfast, Saradoc, Merimac and Marmadas left Brandy Hall and headed for the main road, where they turned north away from Bucklebury and continued on their way.

Saradoc, being the eldest, took the lead and guided his brother and cousin around the bends and down into the small dells and up over the shallow slopes that made up their roaming grounds. They dug in damp soil for worms, lifted up rocks looking for insects, and crashed through the autumn leaves that littered the ground all around them. When they reached Crickhollow Lane, they turned again. The lane did not extend west beyond the Road, but over time a small path had been treaded through the grass from the Lane to the River beyond. The path marked the northern bounds of their roaming area and they walked along it as close as they dared, and finally they came to the Brandywine itself.

“Let’s catch fish,” Mac suggested. He loved to fish and never passed up an opportunity to enjoy his favorite pastime. In fact, ‘Mac’ was short for his full nickname Mackerel and had nothing with his proper name at all as most folk thought. “We could catch some and have Cook make that for our luncheon.”

“We don’t have any fishing rods,” Madi pointed out.

“We could hook them with our fingers,” Mac said. “I’ve seen the fisherhobbits do that at times. It always works for them and I’ve always wanted to try it.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try,” Madi agreed and they turned to Saradoc for the final verdict. “Well, Sara? What do you say?”

Saradoc shrugged. “Sounds like fun. I bet I can catch more than either of you.”

“I know you can,” Madi said, knowing better than to make a wager with his cousin. Sara was easygoing enough, but when his pride and reputation were at stake, he could become downright aggressive in his attempt to crush the competition and prove himself to be the best. Nearly everyone now knew to accept his boasts gracefully.

They reached the wading pool and looked around to make sure they were alone before stripping down to their smallclothes and entering the water. Saradoc went first, followed by Merimac and Marmadas. They lined out when they stepped into the river, which came up to their chests. They inched along the bank to more shallow water, holding onto the exposed roots of the trees that lined the riverbank to keep themselves from slipping and falling into the swift current. Once their feet reached the shallow riverbed and they could stand on their own, they released their grips on the tree roots and walked closer to the middle of the river.

“Here,” Mac said when they were about ten feet from the bank. They were up to their knees in the cold water now and just inches in front of their toes, they could see where the riverbed dropped sharply for deeper water. They crouched down and Saradoc put his left hand into the water, leaning over slightly and reaching down as far he could without losing his balance.

“We’ll catch fish here?” he asked his brother.

Mac nodded. “We should be able to. It’s early enough still.”

“We’ll have to be still and quiet,” Madi pointed out, then looked at Saradoc wryly. “Do you think you can manage that?”

“Of course I can,” Sara said, insulted at having to be asked. About the only time it was safe to challenge Sara was when it was for something that was required of him. He would be as motionless as a rock now just to prove that he could be quiet and still.

“We should spread out, so we’re not all in the same place,” Mac suggested and his friend and brother quietly complied. Soon, they were all crouched, one hand deep in the river waiting for their prize to swim past.

Not more than ten minutes later, and all but numb from the near-freezing water, the lads were stretched out in the sunlight about ten yards back from the river. None of them had been able to withstand the water long enough to catch any fish. They munched on their sweet buns and pointed out shapes in the clouds as they waited for their smallclothes to dry in the gentle warmth of the mid-autumn sun.

“So much for fishing,” Mac said with a sigh. “Maybe we could look for a gift for Aunt Prima. We have to give it to her today, if we’re going to get her anything at all.”

“You haven’t given her a present yet?” Marmadas asked.

“No,” Saradoc said. “Mother said we didn’t have to, that she got Aunt Prima a present for us.”

“What’d she get?”

Sara opened his mouth to answer but froze. He shut his mouth again and frowned. “I don’t know. She never told us.”

“We should at least get her some flowers,” Mac suggested. “That’s easy enough.”

“It should be something more meaningful than flowers. Besides, there’s going to be flowers all over the place tomorrow,” Sara pointed out. “We should get her something she’ll like and can get some use out of.”

“Like what?”

“I’m not sure,” Sara intoned with a shake of his head. “But you’re right. We should get her something. She is my favorite aunt, and she and Drogo have been waiting for this for so long. It would be rude not to give them a gift.”

When their smallclothes were dry enough and most of the sweet buns were consumed, they stood up and dressed. Madi led the way now, staying parallel to the river, and eventually they came upon a small farm. They knew the farmer here well, for the old hobbit would often offer the children a handful of boiled sweets whenever they came calling. They did not call on the farmer today though as they knew that he was away visiting family. So rather than round the farmhouse to the kitchen door, they bypassed the farmhouse and kept to the far end of the property that took them near the chicken and goose coops located at the backside of the barn.

The old farmer, too bent with age to work a field all day, now farmed only fowl. He had a large yard divided into two coops, and the lads paused to watch the birds. The hens were out and about in the chicken coop, pecking at the ground and fretting over their young. A proud rooster strutted around them, keeping watch. The rooster eyed the lads warily and gave a warning squawk and flap of his wings. Next to the chicken coop was the goose coop. Several geese plucked around the pen, while others slept in the shade or ate at the trough. The lads watched the birds until their stomachs told them to hurry up and get home for their own feeding.

They stepped away from the fence and were about to leave the farm behind when they heard a curious rustling in the brush that grew along the fence at the far corner of the goose coop. They stopped and turned, and Sara went to inspect the source of the rustling. He no sooner crouched down and inched toward the bushes, his face mere inches from the leaves, when a goose poked its head out and squawked at him.

Sara yelped with surprise and jumped back, and if Mac and Madi had not started with fright themselves, they would have wasted no time in teasing him. Sara rejoined his friends and the goose emerged fully from the brush, flapping its massive wings and shaking its feathers.

“How did it get out?” Mac asked.

“There must be a break in the fence just there,” Sara guessed. “Should we take it back?”

“We probably should, but isn’t Mr. Smallfeathers away visiting his daughters?” Madi reminded them. He studied the goose, which was now pecking at the grass for food and making its way steadily toward them. “Do you think we can wrest it back into its coop?”

“It’ll just break out again,” Sara pointed out.

Mac’s face brightened slowly as the most wonderful idea popped into his head. “How about we keep it? We’ll tell Mr. Smallfeathers when he gets back tomorrow and we’ll work it off. We’ll give the goose to Aunt Prima!”

“Why would we do that?” Saradoc rightly asked.

“Because, we could cook it for her. She likes goose. It’s her most favorite,” Mac said. He considered the goose and nodded sagely. “Yes, I think that would be a grand idea.” Then his eyes widened even more and he flapped his hands excitedly. “It’ll go wonderfully with the beef roast they’re having for the dinner tonight. We can contribute to the feast!”

“I don’t know,” Madi said uncertainly. “I’ve never cooked a goose before. Mother still only lets me bake things and then only with her help.”

“Cook. Bake. How different can it be?” Sara said. “Good idea, Mac. Aunt Prima will be so thrilled.”

“How do we get it back to the Hall?” Madi asked. He still wasn’t too certain about this plan and wanted all the particulars figured out before they went too much further with it. There was little point in taking the bird back to the Hall if they wouldn’t be able to do anything with it once they got it there.

Saradoc fingered the two sweet buns that still remained in the bag he carried and quickly formed a plan. “We’ll lure it back with the sweet buns and we’ll keep it in the stables until after second breakfast. Then we can go back and get the goose ready. Madi, you can find out from the cooks how we’re supposed to go about cooking a goose. We can cook it in the fire pit behind the stables that they use for pig-roasting.”

Mac and Madi nodded at that, and Sara took the first sweet bun from his bag. He broke off a little piece, no bigger than a crumb, and tossed it to where the goose was digging in the dirt with its bill. The goose sniffed at the bun and nibbled it. Sara tossed another small piece just a few inches short of where the other had landed. The goose sniffed at it and waddled toward it, and soon enough, they were leading the goose back to Brandy Hall.

When they reached the Hall, they approached it from the northwest to avoid being seen by the wedding guests who were constantly arriving from the Road or the ferry. They entered the stables through the side door, the goose still following them. Sara was glad the sweet buns had lasted long enough to get it to the stables and now he had only to maneuver it into an empty stall to lock it up until after second breakfast. Most of the stalls were now full but he managed to find an empty one near the very back of the stables.

Two young ostlers were on duty that morning and they looked up from their hay-pitching and peered over the edge of the hayloft when they heard the young gentlehobbits enter. The older ostler, Hollis, put a finger to his lips, beckoning the other, a new apprentice named Del, to be quiet. Hollis crouched down with silent stealth and Del followed his lead. They slowly peeked out over the hayloft and watched as the young master led a goose into a stall and locked it inside.

Hollis looked at Del, shook his head and furrowed his brow. What are they doing?

Del shrugged. I don’t know. He wasn’t even sure who the lads were.

Below them, Sara threw the last of the sweet bun into the stall for the goose, then turned triumphantly to his brother and friend. “Well, that’s that. Madi, go into the kitchens after second breakfast and ask Cook how to roast a goose. Mac, we’ll need tinder to start the fire for the fire pit. I’ll get more food for the goose.”

“Why?” Mac asked.

“Because, you’re supposed to stuff a bird before you cook it. I know that much at least,” Sara said knowledgeably.

Above in the hayloft, Hollis and Del covered their mouths with their hands and suppressed their giggles. They watched the young masters leave and when they were sure the lads were far enough away that they couldn’t hear, the ostlers laughed aloud.

“Stuff the goose?” Hollis snickered.

“Mayhap we should tell them the proper way to be doing it,” Del suggested through his giggles.

Hollis shook his head. “They’re already asking for help,” he pointed out. “Still… I should like to see how they go about the process. Let’s hurry up and finish with the haying. Then we’ll eat up here so we’ll already be hid when they return.”

“Won’t we get into trouble for spying?” Del asked uncertainly. The last thing he wanted to do was get into trouble just two weeks into his apprenticeship. His parents had been so thrilled when he had won a position at Brandy Hall and he didn’t want to shame them.

“Have no fear about that,” Hollis said, unconcerned. “That there were none other than Saradoc, Merimac and Marmadas Brandybuck. If anyone’s getting into trouble today, it’ll be them.”  

Marmadas poked his head into the kitchen and watched in amazement at the organized chaos taking place within. Hobbits bustled about making a great racket, sidestepping each other or reaching over, under or around each other as they went about washing the dishes, polishing the silver, making elevenses and various small platters for private parties and meals. He had no idea that keeping the residents of Brandy Hall fed was such a hectic job.

He slipped into the kitchen and inched along the wall until he came up against the side of one of the great ovens. He bounced away from the hot iron wall of the oven and sidestepped it and two others like it until he was near the back of the kitchen. Sunlight filtered in from outside through little round windows high in the wall. The sunlight lit the rest of the kitchen well but left the area just below the windows somewhat shadowed. He found it was quieter there and not so busy. Only a few hobbits worked there and Madi figured they’d be the best ones to ask about the goose. He spotted one older hobbit mixing what looked to be cake batter and went to stand beside him.

“Excuse me,” he said.

The baker jumped a little and turned to look at the child. “What’re you doing in here?” he asked.

“I’m Madi,” Madi replied, ignoring the question. He found that if he didn’t answer a question and instead changed the subject, that sometimes the elders would forget what they were asking him about.

“Are you now?” the baker said. “I’m Arlo Tartlet and you shouldn’t be in here.”

Well, so much for that. Madi tried again. “Please, sir, I have to know something. Is this the cake for the wedding tomorrow?”

“Come to spy have you?” the baker said. “Maybe get an early sample? Get gone with you.”

Madi again ignored him and instead stood up on tiptoes to peer over the edge of the counter and look at the items on it. There were various mixing bowls, pans, measuring cups and utensils, as well as a large half-full bag of flour, a crate of eggs and another crate of empty egg shells, a bag of sugar also half-full, a vial of vanilla extract about a third used, a tin of baking powder, a crock of butter nearly empty, and lastly a jug of fresh milk. Another jug sat on the floor under the counter.

Also on the counter were two unusually shaped cake pans. He reached out to touch one, to hold it up and get a proper look at it, but Arlo gently batted his hand away. “Why are you still here?”

“What are those?” Madi asked, pointing at the cake pans. “They look funny. Did a pony trap run them over?”

That did the trick. The baker wasn’t going to stand about and let his work be insulted by a child! He put down the mixing bowl and whisk he was working with, put his hands on his hips and peered down at the undaunted lad.

“I’ll have you know, I had those pans made especial for Miss Primula’s wedding cake,” Arlo informed. “I take pride in what I do, you know, and there’s a reason why it’s always me as is asked to bake the wedding cakes for the Brandybucks. I always do my research and make the cake to the bride’s liking. As soon as I heard that the Master’s youngest daughter was going to be wed, I went and did a bit of digging around the local gossip mills and discovered that young Primula is quite fond of ducks. Mr. Drogo even carved a pair of ducks for her from some fir blocks for his last birthday and Miss Primula had been most pleased with them. So I got myself over to the smith and had him make me up a few of these special cake pans just for the wedding.” He now held up one of the shiny new cake pans, and Madi saw that it was shaped like two ducks, facing each other in such a way that their down-turned heads and touching breasts formed a heart between them. “Seven layers of this cake, topped with the purest, whitest icing will make quite the impression, don’t you think?” Arlo smiled proudly.

“Cousin Prima likes geese,” Madi informed the baker and received a snarl in return. “Please, sir, I have to know how to cook a goose.”

“How to cook a goose?” Arlo echoed.

“Yes sir.”

“Whatever would you need to know that for?” Arlo asked, curious now.

“Because sir, my cousins and I have done our research also, and we want to make an impression too.”

Arlo raised his eyebrows at this and studied the lad’s innocently pleading face. “I take it your mum will be helping you, and she’s too busy to come and ask herself?” Madi nodded. “Very well then. First thing you got to do is stuff the goose.”

“Oh, we’ve done that already,” Madi said, feeling a swell of pride at how smart his older cousin was.

“Right then. Next thing you got to do is dress the goose.”

“Dress the goose?” Madi echoed now. “How do I do that?”

But Arlo never had time to answer. A loud crash came from the other side of the kitchen as a servant slipped on some spilled water and tumbled backward with an armful of cooking pans. Arlo dashed off to help and Madi figured he may as well take the sample offered to him and quickly swiped a finger through the cake batter. That proved to be his downfall, for one of the cooks who hadn’t dashed off to help spied him and quickly grabbed his wrist and hauled him from the kitchen.

“I’d best not see you in here again, Master Marmadas,” she warned, and wiped the batter off his finger before he even had chance to taste it. “Now git!”

Madi walked away, dismayed he hadn’t been able to get more information and that he hadn’t been quicker about the cake batter. He thought over what the baker had told him, trying to puzzle it out. Then his eyes lit with understanding and he dashed down the tunnels.  

The audience in the hayloft had grown. When Hollis and Del had explained to the other ostlers why they were eating early, everyone had decided they wanted to join them. Now the other five ostlers were sitting with them, as well as a couple of the washing lasses and the delivery lad who brought the weekly supply of hay. They pushed aside the hay in several areas directly over the stall the goose was trapped in, and hunkered down when Saradoc and Merimac came in, both lads carrying sacks of food and a bag of tinder. They watched as the young masters started to ‘stuff’ the goose and since then had been waiting for something interesting to happen, but so far their efforts had gone to nil. Down below, Merimac sighed.

“What’s taking Madi so long?” Mac asked as he and his brother fed the goose. “How do we know when it’s stuffed?”

“When it stops eating, I suppose,” Sara said. “That’s always when I stop eating.”

“I stop eating when I’m full, not stuffed,” Mac said. “How do we know if it’s full or stuffed?”

Sara puzzled over this for a time and finally shrugged. “We’ll just have to hope it really likes to eat, which he seems to. Look, he’s still nibbling at the bread crumbs.”

Mac agreed that his brother had a point and they continued to toss little bites of bread into the stall for the goose to enjoy. After what seemed like a half-hour, Madi appeared, running down the length of the stalls with a small bundle tucked under his arm.

“It’s about time,” Sara said crossly. “What did you find out?”

Madi stopped before them, panting from his run. He brought his bundle from under his arm and handed it to his friend. “That we have to dress the goose,” he huffed as Sara unwound the drab brown cloth to reveal soft, cream-colored silk folded inside. Sara shot a questioning look at Madi, then finished undoing the wrappings as the workers above tried desperately not to laugh aloud.

Mac fingered the delicate material. “It’s so soft,” he said.

“Are you sure this is what Cook meant by ‘dress the goose’?” Sara asked, not able to fathom any of this.

“I didn’t talk to Cook, she was busy. I asked Arlo and he said you have to dress the goose first,” Madi said, then shrugged. “Then there was a big commotion and another baker spotted me and made me leave. I didn’t get anything else, but I did find this hanging up in one of the mathom closets. It looks like it will fit.”

Sara let the brown cloth drop to the stable floor and shook out the silk to reveal an odd type of shirt with no sleeves and thin straps for lacings up the back. Above in the hayloft, the delivery lad gasped in horror. Hollis quickly covered his mouth but not in time. Mac looked up and furrowed his brow.

“Did you hear something?” he asked.

“No,” Saradoc said, still studying the shirt. “You found this in the mathom closets. You’re certain?”

Madi nodded. “I did.”

Sara shrugged and turned to face the stall and the goose within, who seemed to be watching them warily, as if it knew what they were planning to do. Sara handed the silk shirt back to Madi. “Put it on then.”

“Me?” Madi squeaked. “Aren’t you going to help?”

“I have faith in you,” Sara said. He patted Madi on the back and stepped away from the stall.

Madi gulped, clutched the silk and stepped into the stall.

Ten minutes later, the goose wasn’t the only one whose feathers had been ruffled. All three lads’ hair was askew and a cleverly-placed kick from the goose’s large webbed feet had Mac limping about the pen. Madi would be sporting a black eye in the morning, courtesy of Sara’s elbow. Sara had been holding the goose down and Mac had been attempting to place the silk across the goose’s back when the goose gave a sudden lurch, knocking Sara backward into Madi. The same lurch had put a tear into Sara’s own shirt.

Their audience up in the hayloft had been hard pressed not to croon with laughter through the whole ordeal. Except for the delivery lad. He was covering his own mouth now and watching the scene with a growing sense of disbelief and dread.

The young masters stepped back from their work and quickly jumped over the stall door as the goose, full of indignant rage, lurched at them again. Once they were safely outside looking in, they nodded with satisfaction and quickly made themselves presentable again. “Well, that’s done. Now what?” Mac asked.

“Now we cook it,” Sara said.

“Don’t we have to kill it first?” Madi pointed out, giving them all pause. They hadn’t thought of that before.

“You know, it would have been easier to get that shirt on if the goose had been dead first,” Mac said unhelpfully.

Sara regrettably poked his finger through the tear in his shirt. “That’s my fault,” he said. “I should have thought of that. I doubt I’ll find an ax in here to do the job, and we can’t very well do that here at any rate. I’ll get the ax and you two take the goose outside to the chopping block.”

Mac and Madi glanced over at the goose dubiously. The goose was standing still, watching their every move with unblinking eyes. “How about we find the ax?” Mac suggested but Sara was already gone by the time he looked up again. “Not fair.”

“Come on,” Madi said. “Let’s get a rope about its neck. It won’t run away then.”

“I’m more afraid of it running toward us than running away,” Mac said but he approached the stall door all the same. He unlatched it, intending to wait for Madi to return with the rope to open the door, but then the goose took a running leap, startling Mac and sending him spiraling backward with a yelp. The goose made another pass and the door swung open. Seeing freedom, the goose made for it but found itself unable to spread its wings with the shirt wrapped tightly around its chest and back.

Madi came running at Mac’s yelp and jumped out of the way just in time to keep from being trampled by the rampaging goose. The goose ran out of the stables into the open, and Mac recovered from his shock in time to help Madi up. The friends looked at each other with dread. They had to get that goose back before anyone else saw it, but as they reached the main stable doors they heard one of the washing lasses shriek and a general commotion rising from the direction of the Hall. The lads bolted out of the stables as fast as their legs would carry them.

In the hayloft, the ostlers and washing lasses allowed their laughter to erupt and they dashed over to the loft door to watch the young masters running through the courtyard for the Hall, where a door stood open. Several hobbits stood in shock, staring at the door also. Hollis and Del and the others wiped tears from their eyes and grabbed at stitches in their sides.

“You see, mate,” Hollis said to Del. “This is the sort of excitement you can expect to find here at Brandy Hall.”

Del chuckled uncontrollably, hardly able to draw breath anymore. Only the delivery lad remained sober, and he turned to seethe at Hollis now. “Do you have any idea what they’ve just done?” he exclaimed.

“Yes,” Hollis laughed. “They dressed a goose,” he snickered, sending the others into renewed laughter.

The delivery lad nodded at this statement. He was easily the oldest among the group and the closest to his coming of age. He also had a sister who was married herself just last year and he understood more about the situation than the others did. “Yes, they dressed it. In a bridal corset.”

The laughter died almost instantly, with just an ostler or two slowly comprehending what he said, their giggles trailing off uncertainly. “In a what?” one of the washing lasses said.

“In a bridal corset,” the delivery lad repeated. “It’s made of the finest silk – or wool, depending on your station – and hung in a closet filled with garments of the bride’s ancestors. The day before the wedding, its to be soaked in special herbs and it will be laid out atop a special clay oven to dry overnight in the spot where the ceremony is to take place. The bride then wears it for her wedding beneath the dress. She’s supposed to wear it during the ceremony, the reception and through the wedding night. It’s believed to bless the union with fertility, prosperity, wisdom and bliss. And they put it on the goose! … I’m getting out of here.”

He was down the ladder and out the stable doors before anyone could comprehend what he had said. Then the others hurried out of the stables as quickly as they could manage. None of them wanted to be found at the scene of the crime.  

Mirabella poured her daughter another glass of wine and handed it to her. Primula took it gratefully. The lass’s nerves were still a bit frayed, but she was beginning to relax as the morning wore on. Mirabella nodded to her sisters-in-law, who nodded back. Evanthe and Melantha stood. “We will fetch the other matrons now,” Melantha stated, and she and her sister slipped quietly out of the sitting room.

Mirabella drew her hand over her daughter’s curls. “How are you truly, Prima? I have never seen you so quiet before.”

Primula downed the wine in two gulps. “I can’t wait to be married,” she said softly, a hint of excitement in her voice. “Was the waiting this difficult for you?”

Mirabella nodded. “Indeed it was. By the time the day of my wedding arrived, I felt as though I had been waiting forever, and I could hardly remember a time when I wasn’t waiting to be married. Then came the time I was to stand at the altar, and I felt as though the time had passed too quickly.”

“Yes,” Primula nodded. “I think I feel that way too. I thought this day would never come, and now I wonder where all the time has gone. By tomorrow night, I’ll no longer be a Brandybuck.”

“My dear, you will always be a Brandybuck,” Mirabella said proudly. “Just as I will always be a Took. You have me to thank for your many charms.”

Primula laughed and was about to say something else when she heard her aunts outside in the tunnel shouting. Primula and Mirabella shot glances at the door and Mirabella stood to investigate. No sooner did she open the door than a goose dressed in her daughter’s wedding corset ran squawking into the room, followed closely by her grandsons Saradoc and Merimac, and her grandnephew Marmadas, who were subsequently followed by Evanthe and Melantha. Madi leapt on top of the goose, pinning it down. “I got it!” he exclaimed triumphantly.

“Did you?” Mirabella asked kindly, giving the lads and the goose pause.

“Is that my…?” Primula started beside her. She pointed at the corset-covered goose with a trembling finger, her shock too great to allow to say more than, “My… My…!”

The lads looked up guiltily. They knew they had done wrong for letting the goose get away but they now began to suspect that there were consequences for their actions that they were not aware of. Prima was near tears and her breath was coming in panicked hitches. “That’s… It’s…” She ended with a whimper and fell into her Aunt Evanthe’s embrace. “It’s tainted!” she managed at last and began to sob.

The matrons glared down at the lads and goose, all of whom were now perfectly still. Mirabella lifted an eyebrow, silently demanding the lads to explain themselves. Saradoc looked between his grandmother, his aunt and his great aunts, trying to remember just how this all started in the first place. “Um, we wanted to get Aunt Prima a present, but it sort of got away from us. We were going to cook the goose, but I guess we went about it wrong?”

“Oh, believe me,” Mirabella said, “your gooses are cooked.”

The lads gulped and the goose hid its head beneath Madi’s arm.  

“I don’t believe it,” Saradoc said the following night at the wedding reception. “About the corset bringing good luck and all that. I mean, look at Prima and Drogo. They’re perfectly happy.”

Merimac and Marmadas looked up from their dishwashing to watch the newlyweds dance across the glade. Primula couldn’t stop beaming and Drogo often pulled her close for quick, chaste kisses.

“They’re happier than we are,” Mac stated. “Them and the goose both.”

For they had been forced to take the goose back to Farmer Smallfeathers early that morning and explain everything that had happened. When the farmer had finished laughing, he offered them all freshly-baked biscuits and delivered their punishment for stealing the goose, as the Master had made clear he was supposed to do.

The following spring found the lads on the farm helping to tend to the new hatchlings, and for the rest of his years the farmer would repeat again and again, with renewed amazement at each retelling, how that year the geese had laid more eggs and hatched more chicks than in any year before or since.

The End.

GF 5/20/06