Before the story begins, I must thank some folks.

Garnet Took and Pearl Took for nudging me.  Grey Wonder is the one who pushed me for Merry's Grad., so this is part her fault, too. ;-)

Dreamflower helped with with something, but I can't say what it is yet because it will give away the story.  I'll give her the credit when the time comes. :-)

This tale takes place in Foreyule, 1403.  I'm trying to get the whole gang in here due to the holiday (in the story)...we'll see if I can do it. ;-)

I think that's it...

Oh--almost forgot!

Disclaimer:  All hobbits and Middle-earth belong to JRR Tolkien, but the rest of us like to think they belong to us. ;-)  Nobody gets paid for anything, lol.

Chapter 1, Treasured Memento

“Are ye sure, Mr. Pippin?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Pippin replied. “We have to do this now--before the sun rises any higher and melts away the snow.”

Together he and Degger stood atop the roof of Great Smials overlooking the western hills and dales covered in a thin blanket of white down. The clear blue sky gave the impression of a bright summer day...until the bare trees and late-Foreyule snow came into one’s view.

Degger shivered a bit as he watched the thirteen year old sit down on his shovel. “I don’t know ’bout this, Mr. Pippin,” he said resignedly before straddling his own shovel.

“Stop snivelling, Degger,” Pippin taunted the older teen. “This is going to be fun!”

“Its cold!” Degger grimaced at the icy feel of the cold metal against his bum...and other important parts.

Pippin laughed, “You’re supposed to put your coattails and cloak between you and the shovel, Degger.”

Pippin waited for the lad to get situated before starting the count. “Ready?”

Degger nodded, wincing as he did so, still unsure of what fix awaited them at the bottom of the hill. When it came to cavorting with Pippin, trouble was almost always inevitable.

“One....two....” Not taking the chance of Degger’s nerves getting the better of him, Pippin suddenly gave his friend a push from behind. “Three!”

Both lads wailed as they glided down the western slope of Great Smials; past Aunt Gerdie’s gabled window, past Uncle Addie’s shuttered window, past Cousin Ferdinand and Aunt Sage’s window...down, down they went. Being the lighter of the two, Pippin flew past Degger just as they reached the bottom. Out of nowhere, a huge lump covered in snow appeared in Degger’s path. Pippin didn’t remember seeing it from his vantage point on top of the roof.

Pippin shouted over his shoulder, “Watch out for that--”

Too late. Behind him, Pippin heard a dull thud and a grunt of pain immediately afterward.

“--rock...”

Using his feet to come to a stop, Pippin abandoned his shovel where it lay, heading back to see about his friend. As he drew near, Pippin saw Degger lying in a foetal position while groaning miserably.

“Are you hurt bad?” Pippin asked, kneeling down in the snow beside Degger.

Degger replied with more groaning, then finally spoke. “I’m all right I guess, but I don’t think I’ll ever have children.”

Relieved that Degger would eventually be fine, Pippin sat back on his heels. “I’m sorry, Degger--I didn’t see that lump of rock from the roof. I suppose the snow stuck to it in such a way to conceal it.”

“I’ll be all right, Mr. Pippin,” said Degger, slowly rising to a sitting position.

“Want to do it again?” Pippin asked enthusiastically.

“No, thank ye--not even if a dragon was chasin’ me,” Degger replied wryly. “I’m a Greenhill, Mr. Pippin, not a Took. We Greenhills weren’t meant for so much adventure at once.”

Pippin laughed then went to fetch his shovel when he heard Degger gasp behind him. “What is it?” he asked upon his return.

“Look!” Degger held in his hand the silver pocket watch that his father and brother had used before their deaths. The lid had been lost long ago, so without it the protective glass of the timepiece had been shattered, going from the centre of the face to the upper left portion of the watch; most likely obtained from the force of hitting the rock.

Pippin again sank to his knees in the snow, almost sick to his stomach. “Degger...I am so sorry.”

Pippin had only seen Degger’s watch on a few occasions, as Degger rarely took it outside of his quarters. Moreover, Pippin was only seven at the time when they found the lad in an alley at Michel Delving, yet over the years Pippin had come to understand just how much Degger cherished the pocket watch he inherited from his dad.

Degger sighed, however, inside, his heart was breaking. “It’s not yer fault, Mr. Pippin. Somethin’ told me t’ put it away b’fore I came outside, but I didn’t listen.”

Pippin spoke with kindness to his friend. “Let’s go show it to my father--he’ll know what to do.”

Inside the Smials, the lads found Paladin where he usually could be found: in his study. Unfortunately, he was also conducting a meeting, so Pippin and Degger sat on the bench in the hallway until it ended. For fifteen minutes they waited patiently before Uncle Addie and the Thain stepped through the doorway. Neither hobbit looked especially happy nor did they speak to one another, and both walked in separate directions. Pippin and Degger shrugged their shoulders but said nothing, as they were well accustomed to the differences between the two relations. Addie most likely attended the meeting for Paladin’s sake alone. Once the room had cleared, except for the Thain-in-training, Pippin went inside, eager to greet his father.

“Hullo, Papa!” said Pippin walking up to his father’s desk with Degger at his side.

Paladin leaned back in his chair, rubbing the sore muscles in his neck. “Hullo, Pippin--what brings you and Degger here? No trouble, I hope.”

“Why do you always think I’m in trouble, Papa?”

Paladin gave a weary smile while tussling his son’s hair. “Because you usually are.”

“Well,” Pippin answered proudly, “this time I’m not. But there is a sort of trouble with something that belongs to Degger, and I think it is in need of repair. His pocket watch is broken.”

Genuinely shocked at the revelation, Paladin asked, “How? What happened?”

“Show it to him, Degger,” said Pippin.

Degger dug into the same pocket of his topcoat that the watch occupied before the accident. “Mr. Pippin says ye can patch it up.”

Paladin whistled at the damage when he saw the splintered glass of the watch. Figuring things may have been jarred inside, he shook it a bit to see if he could hear anything loose. “It definitely needs to be repaired and touched up,” he said after hearing something clanking about, “but I can’t do it. I don’t know how to repair watches.” Paladin watched the hope in Degger’s face fall. He then added, “But I do know someone in Tuckborough who does. Pippin, see if Matt will drive you lads to town this afternoon--I don’t believe he is busy with anything else. Look for Robin Tooter--he owns a watch and jewellery shop not far from the clothier.”

“Will you come to town with us?” asked Pippin.

“I can’t, Pip, and you know it.” Paladin waved his hand over the heaps of books and documents on his desk. “I have a stack of work to do here.” Paladin drew his son close and tousled his hair. “I would love nothing better than to go to town with you--you know that!”

Paldin then looked at his son with a critical eye. “Might I ask how Degger’s watch met such a demise--or should I want to know?”

Pippin gave a sideways glance to Degger, who said nothing. “You don’t want to know, Papa,” Pippin answered. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Would it have anything to do with the snow outside?”

Pippin pressed his lips together as if weighing a decision. “It might.”

“Pippin-lad, you are simply going to have to find less treacherous means of amusing yourself. You cannot continue on in precarious play and then drag Degger in along for the ride or else you can expect things like this to happen. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Papa.”

Pippin watched his father’s eyes suddenly look past his shoulder and toward the doorway. Pippin followed his father’s gaze to the matron standing in the doorway. “Hullo, Momma,” Pippin smiled, giving his best impression of innocence.

Eglantine entered her husband’s study with a wry grin on her face. “And what sort of nonsense have you been up to, young hobbit?”

Slightly offended, Pippin asked, “Why does everyone always think I’m up to something--or in trouble? What if Degger is the one up to something this time?”

“I wouldn’t believe it,” replied Eglantine, teasing her son. “Degger is such a quiet lad, well-spoken of. He could never be a nuisance.”

By this time Pippin knew his mother was having a jest, so he added his two pence. “I’ll have you know, Momma, that Degger forced me to eat freshly baked biscuits from the oven right after second breakfast. How do you like that for mischief?”

“For some reason, I find Degger forcing you to do anything quite hard to believe,” Paladin said while he laughed.

Degger spoke in a small voice. “I did tell Mr. Pippin this mornin’ that Mistress May would be disappointed if he didn’t eat at least one biscuit. It was her first batch o’ the day an’ she wanted our opinion.” He then added a bit more seriously, “Mistress May doesn’t let just anyone test her batches.”

“See!” Pippin folded his arms in triumph. “I told you Degger twisted my arm! At least somebody round here values my opinion.”

Both Paladin and Eglantine rolled their eyes before sharing a laugh. Eglantine took her son in her arms then kissed his honey-brown curls. “We value you opinion, all right?”

Initially, Pippin blushed at being cuddled by his mother in front of the other lads. He was thirteen now and there was a certain decorum a teen-aged lad must maintain in the presence of another teen-aged lad. However, Pippin would never pull away from his mother’s affections, and on a certain level he still enjoyed it.

“It is almost time for elevenses,” she spoke in Pippin’s ear before releasing him from her hold, “I want you to take Degger to your room so you both can wash up and meet us in the dining room.”

“Yes, Momma,” answered Pippin, then looked over toward his friend. “Come along, Degger--we have to wash up for elevenses.”

The grown-ups patiently waited for the children to disappear into the hallway before taking their own conversation over to the couch.

“Is everything in place?” Paladin asked Eglantine, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

Eglantine nodded with a sly expression of her own. “Pippin will be so surprised! Not only will Merry be here on Mersday, but I expect Frodo to arrive tomorrow round teatime. I have also received a reply from Rosamunda in Budgeford--Freddy will escort his sister Estella to Great Smials so that she can be here for Pervinca’s graduation and he for Pippin’s. Unfortunately, they must start their return on Sunday so they can spend the Yuletide with their family back in Budgeford.”

“That is to be expected, I suppose. I know Pippin misses Merry, and I am sure Merry misses him. Merry will also be delighted to see how well his former student has been doing,” remarked Paladin. Pleased with all the good news, Paladin prompted for yet more. “And what about him--the former student?”

Eglantine sighed. “I haven’t received a response from Clara Bunce yet as to whether she and Heather will be here. I hope neither one is ill.”

“Perhaps the Post was delayed with the snowfall we got overnight.” Paladin wasn’t worried just yet. “Let’s give it until tomorrow. I will proceed with arranging their accommodations as if we know that they are coming. After all, Mrs. Bunce must realise how important this is to Degger.”

“Are their gifts ready?” Eglantine asked Paladin, her hazel eyes now shining with joy.

“They will be,” he answered with grin, “but even better, the lads were here on errand before you arrived. Degger managed to break the glass piece on his pocket watch--not a bad break, mind--it should be easy enough to replace. I didn’t venture too far in asking how it happened, and Pippin knows to tell me if he’s gotten himself into a pickle. Besides, seeing that neither lad was injured I decided to let the matter rest. I am reluctant to discipline them so close to their graduation unless it is for something serious. Oh--I have given the lads permission to ask Matt to drive them to town this afternoon to repair Degger’s watch.”

“I am sorry to hear about Degger’s pocket watch! But...what shall I say?” said Eglantine.

“Yes--what fortune!” Paladin smiled, “I should hate to think of prying the lad’s fingers off that beloved watch of his with a crow bar in order to do what we need.”

“Paladin?” Eglantine softly sighed, laying her head on her husband’s shoulder.

“What is it, love?”

“Our babies our growing up.”

Chapter 2, An Afternoon in Tuckborough

“Hello, Mr. Mat!” Pippin greeted the elder hobbit. Together, he and Degger walked inside the lean-to adjacent to the stables where the carriage drivers rested between labours. Pippin and Degger decided to search out the Thain’s driver directly after their meal. Mat was Pippin’s favourite of the three drivers, and no other would do for their special task. Pippin regarded the other drivers boring; they usually kept to their jobs, speaking very little or only when spoken to. When Mat didn’t have to be formal, such as while driving the Thain or his guests, he delighted in Pippin’s company. Pippin often pressed Mat for riddles or stories long stored inside the elder hobbit’s head.

“Hullo, Master Pippin!” Mat stood up from the chair near the fireplace where he was warming his toes, giving a slight bow to the children. His deep, blue eyes sparkled with a light that offset his ruddy cheeks and auburn locks, revealing a spot of grey at the temples. “What brings ye here t’ the stables, eh?”

“My friend Degger and I need to go to the market,” Pippin announced merrily. “To Mr. Tooter’s shop!”

Matt looked dubiously at the young teen. “I take it this is a real errand this time?”

Pippin feigned insult. “My previous errand was real, Mr. Mat.”

Mat shook his head in remembrance of that day. “The Thain didn’t think ’twas real. In fact, I recall him bein’ quite vexed when he learnt his carriage wasn’t waitin’ for him when he wanted it an’ that the young, forthcomin’ Thain had taken it for a joy ride.”

“I can’t help it if Cousin Ferumbras is getting slow in his old age--present company excepted.” Pippin quickly put in the last part, not wanting to ruin his prospects of a ride to Tuckborough. However, Pippin knew exactly what his older friend meant. “I’m sorry, Mr. Mat. I didn’t mean to get you into any trouble.”

“I know, lad,” said Mat, “but we have t’ be careful from now on, all right?” A smile brightened his features when Pippin acknowledged with a nod.

“Mr. Mat,” Degger spoke up, “Mr. Pippin is tellin’ the truth. I was there when Mr. Paladin told him t’ go t’ town. He even gave Mr. Pippin a letter t’ give Mr. Tooter. Ye see, I broke my dad’s pocket watch this mornin’ an’ now it needs fixin’.”

Mat looked upon the young, up-and-coming gentlehobbit. He’d known Degger since the lad arrived at Great Smials six years ago and deemed him quite well-mannered--that is, for an orphan. “O’ course I’ll drive ye lads,” he said with a wink of an eye, “although I think we’ll leave the Thain’s carriage here for now. We’ll take one of the pony traps t’ be safe.”

The drive to Tuckborough wasn’t a very long ride, being only a mile and a half away. As Pippin had guessed earlier while on the roof of the Smials, most of the snow had melted away with the noontime sun, leaving the lanes open for easy enough travel. Soon, the lads were feasting their eyes upon market booths lined up in the town square, their owners hawking their wares or services at anyone willing to listen.

Mat brought the trap to a stop in front of Mr. Tooter’s Watch and Jewellery Shop. “I’ll wait for ye lads o’er yon by the Oak Leaf.”

“Thank you, Mat,” said Pippin, hopping down from the trap. He turned to look up at the wooden placard hanging above the doorpost: Tooter’s Watch and Jewellery Shop. Painted upon the placard were colourful gems and the face of a clock, meant for the unlettered hobbits. “We won’t be long,” he added, “and here are two pennies to take your luncheon at the inn. Papa gave me enough for all of us.”

Mat tipped his hat toward the youngster. “Thank ye, Mr. Pippin--shall I order yer meals for ye?”

Pippin looked over to Degger for his opinion, surmising the elder teen’s wish in his facial expression. “No, thank you, Mr. Matt. Degger and I will order our own luncheon when we arrive.”

“As ye wish, sir,” answered Matt, driving on toward the Oak Leaf.

Hearing the chime on his door that signalled incoming or outgoing customers, Robin Tooter welcomed his young customers. “Good afternoon, lads! How may I be of service to you today?”

“Go on,” Pippin gently urged his bashful friend forward.

Degger reached inside his pocket for the damaged watch and then presented it to Mr. Tooter. “I broke my dad’s watch an’ now it needs fixin’. Can ye repair it?”

“Well, I don’t know yet, young fellow,” Mr. Tooter nervously chuckled. “I’d have to take a better look at it.” With that, he picked up a magnifying glass from off his work table, peering at Degger’s watch.

Degger stared vigilantly as the jeweller placed the thick piece of glass just above his watch. “What are ye doin’?”

“I am examining the damaged bits,” Tooter explained. To Robin, the older teen appeared a bit uneasy over the handling of his watch.

“Can ye repair it? I meant t’ put it back b’fore I went outside, but I forgot...”

“Yes, yes,” the jeweller replied absently, still eyeing the broken parts of the timepiece. He turned the watch this way and that for better inspection.

Degger’s arms nervously twitched at his sides while watching Mr. Tooter turn the beloved pocket watch about in his hand. “I hope it can be fixed,” he said nervously.

Now Tooter became uneasy with the lad watching his every move. He wondered if perhaps the lad was anxious over retribution for breaking his father’s possession. “Look, lad,” he said, “you can tell your father that his watch is indeed repairable, however I shall have to keep it for a day or two in order to further examine it.” And get you out of the way, he thought more to himself. “Will you or your father be picking it up?”

Degger’s brown eyes grew sombre...distant, hesitating to answer Mr. Tooter’s question.

“Well?”

“Mr. Tooter,” Pippin finally spoke up, “My name is Peregrin Took, and this is my friend Degger Greenhill. Unfortunately, Degger’s father passed on some years ago--the pocket watch you hold is an heirloom and is very precious to my friend. My father recommended your services to Degger. He also gave us a letter to give to you.” Pippin fumbled inside his inner coat pocket for the note.

Quite humbled, Mr. Tooter looked at Degger. “I apologise for my hasty words, Mr. Greenhill,” he spoke softly, “I will take great care with your pocket watch.”

Degger swallowed the lump in his throat, giving a small nod. “I don’t mean t’ be trouble, sir,” the lad blurted out suddenly, “I promise t’ stay quiet--t’ stop--” Degger felt Pippin nudge him. He took a deep, calming breath. “Thank ye, Mr. Tooter.”

Taking the letter Pippin offered, the shopkeeper broke open the small red seal with “P.T.” handwritten in the wax. Up and down his dark eyebrows went as he perused the note on the paper. At length, Mr. Tooter placed the letter on his table. He folded his arms across his chest while deep in thought then scratched his chin. “Hmm...”

Robin again picked up the pocket watch, giving it the third degree.

Pippin and Degger shared a baffled look, shrugging their shoulders at the mysterious letter and the repair-hobbit’s queer behaviour.

“Where did your father get this watch, my lad?” asked Robin, once again peering through his magnifying glass.

Degger shot a look at Pippin before answering the jeweller. “I don’t rightly know, sir. I remember sitting on my dad’s leg when I was a faunt an’ he took it out o’ his pocket t’ look at. It had a lid on it then--a duck carved in it, just like what’s painted there on the face. My brother had it a while b’fore I got it. Why do ye ask?”

“’Tis nothing,” the shopkeeper replied indifferently, carefully placing the watch inside a wooden workbox lined with black velvet to protect the contents.

Mr. Tooter’s enigmatic question and answer didn’t pacify Degger; it only served to make him agitated. “He didn’t pinch it, if that’s yer meanin’.”

The jeweller secretly chided himself for his near-slip of the tongue. “I wasn’t meaning that at all, young hobbit,” Robin firmly replied. “I was simply admiring it. Your watch will be ready on Sterday, Mr. Greenhill.”

“Not any sooner?” Degger ventured to ask.

“He wanted it for...,” Pippin implored and then relented. “Well...I suppose there’s nothing we can do about it, is there?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Mr. Tooter, gesturing to the multitude of jewellery and watch boxes piled high upon his work table. “All of the folk who belong to these fine treasures have been waiting long enough.”

“Come on, Degger,” Pippin sauntered toward the door, “We’ll just have to wait. At least it is getting repaired.”

With a very satisfied smile on his face, Robin Tooter watched the teens walk out his door.

Depressed over not walking out of the shop with Degger’s watch repaired and in hand, Pippin sighed heavily while surveying the bustle of the market goers, the cool sunny sky, the smell of baking bread...and sweet confections.

“I s’ppose we ought t’ be gettin’ t’ the Oak Leaf Inn for luncheon,” said Degger.

“I suppose so,” Pippin replied. His eyes set upon a particular shop across the road. Together, the two teens ambled toward said Inn.

“Degger?”

“Yes, Mr. Pippin?”

“After we eat lunch, let’s go drown our sorrows at Lolly’s Sweets Shop.”

“I can’t do that, Mr. Pippin. I didn’t bring any extra coin--I only got enough money t’ settle up my watch when it’s fixed,” said Degger.

“I’ve got a bit of pocket money with me,” said Pippin, stepping off of the porch. “I have enough to purchase a sack of sweets and have something left over to purchase Yule gifts!”

Sometime later, Pippin emerged from the doorway of Lolly’s shop popping a toffee drop into his mouth, and with Degger at his side. “Mmm! There’s nothing like the taste of toffee on the tongue! Hold out your hand, Degger.”

Degger did as he was bid and received a mixture of comfits, toffees, and raisins in return. “Thank ye, but that’ll be all I can eat, Mr. Pippin. I don’t hold well with too many sweetmeats--an’ my corners are still full from luncheon.”

“You’re soft, Degger!” Pippin teased his friend. “Merry and I once emptied a bag by ourselves.”

“Didn’t ye get sick after?” Degger asked. Together they marched in the direction of Mat and the pony trap sitting near to the Oak Leaf Inn under the cool rays of the winter sun.

“I don’t remember,” answered Pippin, skirting the issue. He slipped his hand into the bag of sweets to drop another handful of sweets into his mouth. “Mmm! The raisins mix well with toffee!”

Degger winced at the mere thought of all that sugar in his mouth at one time. “We have our final exam tomorrow mornin’, Mr. Pippin. Ye don’t want t’ get sick b’fore it, do ye?”

“I’m not going to get sick!” Pippin abruptly stopped walking and turned to Degger. “You’re beginning to sound like my parents--especially my father. And as he isn’t taking much of an interest in me of late, I have decided that I am old enough to make certain decisions for myself. I fancy that I want to eat a bag of sweets on my way home, and so I shall!”

Degger had a fancy that he’d be carrying a green thirteen year old into the Smials.

No sooner had the lads returned to Great Smials, and Degger helped Pippin to his room, that the younger teen crawled into his bed still wearing his day clothes.

“Go ahead,” Pippin sighed, lying upon his back. He held one arm over his eyes to shield out the light a bit. If only his stomach would settle down!

“Go ahead an’ what, Mr. Pippin?” asked Degger. “Do ye want me t’ fetch yer mum?”

“No!” said Pippin, unshielded one of his eyes. “I don’t need my mother. I meant go ahead and say you-told-me-so.”

Degger smiled compassionately at the pitiful lad, “Why would I want t’ do that?”

Pippin unshielded one of his eyes to glare at his friend, then ended up smiling in return. He wanted to laugh, however, his tummy had other plans. He curled up with a soft groan while holding his belly.

“Do ye need the chamber pot?”

Pippin shook his head.

“I’m goin’ t’ the kitchen t’ get ye some ginger tea,” said Degger. “Mistress May has made it for me on occasion t’ help my stomach settle when it got upset.”

“All right,” Pippin relented, “but on your way there don’t forget to tell Papa we’ve returned--but don’t say a word about me and the sweets.”

“I can’t lie t’ your dad, Mr. Pippin,” said Degger.

“All right, but don’t offer anything unless he asks.”

TBC...

Chapter 3, Precious Little Time

As Degger approached the entrance that belonged to the Thain’s Assistant, he heard muffled voices behind the closed door. Normally, Mr. Paladin left the door open, as it was his desire to have an ‘open door policy’ with the staff overseers and, of course, with his immediate family. Whenever the door was closed, it was closed for a purpose. So, Degger made himself comfortable on the long wooden bench situated outside in the hallway and waited.

Meanwhile, behind the closed door....

“I cannot believe he wanted you to dip into the Smials’ winter stores in order to satisfy his dinner guests!” Adelard was referring to the meeting the previous day and shook his head sadly. He had stopped by his younger cousin’s office to see how he was holding up under the close scrutiny of the Thain, then both of them ended up venting their mutual frustration toward their cousin. “Imagine! Starving the children--and yourself--in the dead of winter just so that you can appear prosperous to your friends in late Blotmath. Pompous fool! I wasn’t overly fond of his mother Lalia, however, at least she saw reason when it came to the larders and young children.”

“Lalia had her moments, I suppose, although I think she wasn’t overly fond of us, neither,” said Paladin with a chuckle. “She despised lowly farmers--if you recall, and anyone who married beneath themselves.”

Paladin continued speaking with his life-long friend while he separated a mound of documents into their own respective piles. “There are to be only five guests--Ferumbras wants enough food at his table that would feed ten persons. When he ordered me to search deeper into the cellars, I had to put my foot down.”

“I’m glad you did--and it’s not even Yule yet,” Addie put in, “everyone knows we must have ample provisions for all the Yule celebrations that go on this time of year.”

“We must be careful even round Yule, Addie,” Paladin reminded his friend, “The winter stores must stretch all the way into late spring until the new crops produce their first yield.” He reached over to grab a new batch of documents and in the process dropped a small mound in front of Addie. “Bear a hand, cousin!” he said, grinning. “Desk work is not a sport for mere observance. Tina will be here shortly to tell me it’s time for tea, and I want to have as much of this done as possible.”

“What is it?”

“Entries that were supposed to be put into Yellowskin ages ago,” Paladin explained dryly.

Tooks who lived at Great Smials or within twelve miles of it, had their Blessings done directly by the Took. Otherwise, the patriarchs of the outside Took clans blessed their own and sent the certificate via the Post for entry into the Tooks’ yearbook. “I’m separating the certificates--birth pile here, marriages there, and deaths to my right. Fortunately, each certificate bears the names of parents, siblings, and children, so matching them up into families should be no problem--although it will prove time-consuming. And these days, time is in short supply.”

“You’ll need to make a whole new volume to have room for all of these!”

“Probably several,” Paladin quipped.

Addie stood to his feet, stretching is muscles. “I’d stay and help you, dear friend,” said Addie, “but my daughters are making tea. They’re wanting to have their own wee Yule party with their friends and I believe buttering me up for approval is in the plan. I shall go home, revel in the buttering, and then consent to my daughters having their own party.”

“Oh, go on, you coward!” Paladin laughed. “Leave me alone with all of this.”

Addie leaned close over Paladin’s shoulder, “I will send Reggie or Everard to help after tea. Oh! Speaking of Everard--he is preparing the graduation certificates for Pippin, Vinca, and Degger. He is recording their given names on the diplomas to give them a more formal appearance. Degger’s name must be a shortened version of his given-name--would you happen to know what that is?”

“Come to think of it...I’ve never asked him, and he’s never offered it,” answered Paladin. “He has to know his own name, Addie. I’ll ask him at tea and let Ev know what it is--that is, should his father not allow the buttering to drive his word from memory and lend his son after tea.”

Laughing at the mild jest, Addie took his leave from Paladin. He opened the door and got a surprise. “Well, look what we have here! Hullo, Degger! I shall apologise now for my abruptness, my lad--however, I am late for my tea so I must go now.”

Once Adelard had disappeared from the doorway, Paladin chuckled, “More likely that my work was threatening his peaceful afternoon, so he ran as fast as he could to escape it.”

Degger merely stood just inside the door waiting for the usual invitation.

“Come in, come in!” Paladin smiled at his young charge. “Did you and Pippin go into town this afternoon as I suggested?”

“Aye, sir,” replied Degger, taking a seat where Paladin gestured. “But Mr. Tooter said it won’t be ready ’til Sterday.”

“It is repairable, then?” Paladin enquired. Inwardly, he smiled; his scheme was going as planned.

“It is,” said Degger. He opened his mouth to say something else but then closed it.

Paladin paused in sifting through the documents before him. “What were you about to say?”

Degger sighed, “Mr. Tooter asked me where my father got his watch. I told him I didn’t know, but...I wonder why he would ask such a question.”

“I wouldn’t fret over it,” Paladin said. “Knowing a jeweller, he probably was admiring it.” At that moment a lovely matron stepped through the entrance of the study. “Hullo, Tina!” Paladin stood up to greet his wife with a peck on the cheek.

“It’s time for your tea, my dear,” said Eglantine, “But before you go to the dining room, you might want to pay a visit to our son in his bedroom. Seems he’s had too much of a good thing while in Tuckborough.”

Paladin looked to Degger for further information.

Degger hesitated for a brief second. It wasn’t exactly a question with words so it wasn’t as if he’d be offering, as Mr. Pippin said. However, it was a question nonetheless. Besides, it was quite apparent that Mr. Pippin gave himself away to his mother.

“Lolly’s Sweet Shop,” answered Degger. “I was on my way t’ the kitchen t’ get Mr. Pippin some ginger tea. He told me t’ stop on my way an’ tell ye we were back.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Pippin...”

The young teen turned over in his bed to face his father. Paladin carried in with him a tea tray, and Pippin could smell the strong aroma of ginger steeping in the tea.

“Hullo, Papa.”

“Why did you put yourself through this?” asked Paladin softly, sitting on the mattress of his son’s bed. He laid the tray on Pippin’s night table then began preparing the ginger tea for his son. “Granted, it’s been a couple of years since you last overindulged on sweetmeats like this, however, I should think that last lesson would have taught you well.”

“Because I wanted to.”

“Pippin!”

“Why couldn’t you come to Tuckborough with us?” Pippin implored. “I might not have eaten all those sweets if you had. “

“What you’re saying, is that because I didn’t accompany you and Degger to Tuckborough it is my fault you decided to eat an entire bag of raisins, toffees, and comfits all by yourself without thought to the consequences?”

Pippin turned back round on his bed to face away from his father. His voice was small and soft when he spoke. “Why don’t we play chess before supper anymore? Or a game of marbles before bedtime? You never have time for me anymore.”

“Pippin...I...”

Paladin was at a loss for words. He knew his work had been gradually taking up most of his time--time spent away from his beloved family. There were so many demands placed upon him this past year that at times he was at his breaking point. Ferumbras throwing duties at him long before he was truly trained and ready to do so. His family trying to adjust to a new environment...and overseeing the Smials’ staff. Paladin knew this was a time in Pippin’s life that he needed his father the most...and here he was stuck behind a desk learning a whole different way of life. Paladin felt a pang of guilt deep inside.

Pippin continued his tirade, “I wonder what tool they used to pry you from your study--it might come in handy in the future.”

Paladin briefly set his remorse aside to respond to his son’s last outburst. “Let me remind you, Peregrin, that I am your father and will not tolerate any of your cheek. Speak respectfully, as your mother and I have taught you, and then I shall answer all of your questions.”

Pippin took in a deep, calming breath. “Sorry, Papa,” he whispered.

Paladin sensed his son was at the brink of tears, so leaving the ginger tea to cool a bit, he reached over to help the lad up into a sitting position then climbed onto the bed beside the teen. It had been a long time since the last bed-cuddle, and he knew the day was not too far off when Pippin would probably consider such for faunts. “You’ve grown a lot since we moved here,” he said, wrapping an arm round his son’s shoulders.

“I suppose,” said Pippin, feeling small and contrite. He kept his gaze on his hands, which were busy plucking the fuzzy bits from the well-worn coverlet. “I’ll be fourteen this spring.”

“Yes, you will! However, I meant you’ve grown in more ways than one.” Paladin gave his son a gentle squeeze before elaborating. “Yes, you’re having a growth spurt--and have grown a whole inch since we moved here! What I am saying is that you’re at an age where you ought to be starting to understand certain things about grown ups. Not everything, but some.

“Much has changed for all of us, Pippin. Just one year ago, you, me, your sisters and mother all lived on a farm in a small village not far from here. Back then I was my own overseer. I was able to come and go as I pleased whether in the summer or winter. Mr. Woodcot used to manage the labourers in my absence, and did a very good job. In the winter, while repairing the paddock fence, I could call it a day at any time and return home to where my family awaited me. I can’t always do that now, son. There will be days that we can spend time together--or the entire day, if that pleases you when my training period has passed. But right now I’m in a transition; I am getting the full brunt of learning how to be the Took and Thain.”

Pippin now looked at his father. “Like the full brunt I got with my learning this past year?”

Paladin smiled. “Much like that, yes. I’m not my own boss anymore, Pip. I can’t come and go as I used to. And remember, your sisters need me as well as you do. I may not always be able to play a game of chess with you before supper, or a game of marbles before bed. There will be times that I can do so, though not always like before. However, I can promise you this: every night when I tuck you into bed, you will always have my undivided attention. I love you, Pippin, and always will.” Kissing his son’s head of curls, Paladin added, “Never doubt that. Do you understand what I’ve just explained to you?”

Pippin shifted to lean into his father more, “I do, but I don’t think I like it. Cousin Ferumbras doesn’t have to spend all of his time in his study, so why must you?”

“Because I’m new at it,” said Paladin. “He’s been Thain for twenty-three years.”

“I hope you don’t have to spend the next twenty-three years behind your desk! I will be all grown up before we get to go fishing again.”

Paladin chuckled heartily, “I hope I don’t, neither! But I do hope to take you fishing at least once this summer--just you and I. How’s that?”

Pippin smiled, leaning in to his father’s embrace for a few more minutes then popped another question. “Papa, when I turn fourteen in the spring, will I allowed to make all of my own decisions?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Well...today is one example of why you still need the guidance of your parents for a while. I hope you will remember today when faced with the decision of purchasing sweets again in the future. It is part of my parental job description--and your mother’s--to teach you and your sisters how to make decisions for yourself until you Come of Age. As you grow up and learn responsibility, we can discuss any decisions you want to make, and depending on the situation we may let you make that decision for yourself.”

Paladin let Pippin mull over that for a moment before changing the subject. He reached over for the cooled ginger tea, carefully handling it to give to his son. “Tomorrow is your last exam,” he said, “are you, Vinca, and Degger going to revise together after supper?”

While he sipped on the tea Pippin nodded. “We always do.”

“Very good,” said Paladin, then smiled. “I think Degger is overly worried again. Will you be able to eat supper?”

Giving his father a sidelong look, Pippin answered, “You forget who you’re talking to, Papa!”

 TBC

Chapter 4, Change is in the Air

The rest of Trewsday was uneventful, with the children quietly revising everything they’d learnt in their studies from the very beginning through to the end. Eglantine aided her husband with planning where their special guests would stay, while Pearl and Pimpernel visited their cousins Donnabelle, Primabelle, and Sadabelle in the winter garden.

Hensday morning, Paladin woke up with much to do on his plate; he had an important errand in town, then shadowing Ferumbras at a Name Blessing in the afternoon, and then the first of the many invited guests would arrive around teatime. Paladin’s first task was to find Ferumbras and tell him of his errand--the rest would fall into place, especially as his Tina had shown a flair for arranging guest accommodations.

Paladin smiled to himself. Tina had no notion of becoming the wife of the Took and Thain, yet every day it was she who helped him host cousins from afar, or friends of the Smials residents, performing duties of the Thain’s Mistress--although without the official title. Ferumbras often made a five minute appearance and then retreated behind the double wooden doors of his Palace (that is name Paladin’s children called Cousin Ferumbras’ quarters, as they considered the vast apartment a waste of space for only one hobbit). Either way, it was within the purview of the wife of the Took and Thain to help her husband perform his duties, and the more responsibilities Ferumbras handed down to him, Paladin felt himself very lucky indeed to have a wife who gladly gave a helping hand to her budding Thain-to-be husband.

All in all, it had been nice ride into Tuckborough though; a lovely break from work, yet Paladin had the feeling that leaving his study this morning had been a grave mistake. Ferumbras had been putting his nose into every little detail of planning his private Yule Party, yet he made sure Paladin knew it was the job of the Assistant to do the task--as if he was doing Paladin's job for him. Thus far, Paladin’s only responsibilities were the food and guest accommodations, nevertheless Paladin was sure he’d go mad between Ferumbras’ party, the Graduation, Yule, and a host of other things going on as well. It was only a matter of time before Ferumbras gave over his invitations and R.S.V.P.s for Paladin to handle, too.

Paladin dismounted from his pony in front of the Smials’ stables, pausing to catch his breath, then looked up into the low, billowing grey clouds of Foreyule. His shoulders felt heavy. Indeed, when he woke up this morning and kissed his wife and children...the world was all right. Paladin fumbled for a moment inside his saddle bag for something, then stopped. Still standing there he rested his head on his arm, cast his green eyes to the fur on his feet, letting his mind go back to Mr. Tooter’s shop in Tuckborough where everything changed. Now that he’d returned to Great Smials, suddenly his stomach gave a lurch; somebody’s life would be drastically changed forever. For good or for ill, Paladin did not know.

“G’mornin’, sir!”

Paladin flinched at the sound of the young stable-lad’s voice. He fully removed the sack from his saddle bag to cover up his mindless gazing.

“Sorry, sir--didn’t mean t’ startle ye. Just thought I’d take Barley off yer hands, if ye’re willin’.”

“Of course,” said Paladin, giving the pony’s reins over to the tween. He silently wondered just how long had he been standing there witlessly thinking about events to come. His thoughts began racing anew inside his head as he walked toward the Great Door of the Smials. There was only one person he knew of that could help him solve this mystery.

* * *

Pippin’s eyes travelled around the children’s study following Miss Hemlock’s every step. He saw her stop near Degger and whisper something to his friend. Degger nodded and said something in response to which Miss Hemlock smiled and walked back to her own desk to await the examinees. Pervinca finished her exam and left twenty minutes ago, leaving Degger and Pippin to finish theirs. Pippin would have been finished long before his sister (as usual) except that he felt it was more important to keep Degger company. Pippin looked at the last question on his paper; it looked the same as it did five minutes ago. He had the answer swimming in his head for over half an hour, yet he would wait until Degger rose from his seat to write it out. This way, he could truthfully say he wasn’t finished with his exam.

“Mr. Peregrin, are you still pondering that last question?” Miss Hemlock spoke softly, startling the teen. “You have been mulling over that answer for quite a long time and that is unlike you. Your mother told me about your wee adventure yesterday--are you feeling well?”

“I’m feeling fine, thank you,” Pippin replied in a low voice so as not to disturb Degger.

“Very well, then,” she said, although Pippin’s answer did not dispel the doubt in her eyes. “Just remember you both have fifteen minutes left.”

The constant drone of tick-tock from the pendulum clock on the wall let Pippin know that time dragged on. Finally, with five minutes left to go, Degger relaxed in his chair, yet he perused the two other pages of his exam before getting up. As soon as Pippin saw Degger sit back in his seat, he quickly scribbled the last answer of his exam onto the paper. He stood to his feet, handed Miss Hemlock his exam then left the room.

After Pippin left, Degger, too, rose from his desk and handed the tutor his exam. But before he could walk away, she called to him.

“Yes, Miss Hemlock?” he asked, thinking perhaps he missed a question, or got one horribly wrong.

“I just want to say that it has been a delight to watch you learn and grow these past several months.”

Degger stammered his reply, “I...I...Mr. Merry helped me a lot, Ma’am.”

“Well, I’m very proud of you.”

Degger blushed. “Thank ye, Miss Hemlock.” The teen-ager became tongue-tied after that, so he took his leave.

“What took you so long in there?” asked Pippin, leaning against the wall outside in the hallway.

“I was goin’ t’ ask ye the same thin’,” replied Degger, a twinkle in his eye.

“I was waiting on you, you slowcoach!” Pippin retorted, playfully nudging his friend. “I know you knew all the answers to the questions on the exam--we all revised together last night.”

“But sometimes the answers go on holiday when mornin’ comes,” replied Degger.

“I think you doubt yourself, Degger.”

“I know my bounds, Mr. Pippin,”

Pippin smiled, “You mean you know your limitations.”

“I said that!”

As the pair walked beside one another, Pippin’s stomach helped spur an idea. “I’m hungry, Degger, and I think we’re due for a reward for our labours. Do you think Mistress May would let us have a taste of her biscuits again?”

Degger grinned. “I b’lieve she can be persuaded.”

* * *

It was just after elevenses when Eglantine sat in the family’s parlour with her daughters enjoying a bit of cross stitching. Pearl and Pimpernel, well familiar with needlepoint, were able to stitch while talking about their cousins’ upcoming Yule Tea. Pervinca was still learning the rudiments of the artful needlework, so Eglantine observed her youngest daughter more closely while lending half and ear to her older daughters’ conversation.

“Donnabelle asked her father if she and her sisters could have a Yule party, fully expecting him to say no--but he said yes!” Pearl spoke with excitement; something rarely heard from the young lass of late. It was no secret among her family that she was unhappy living at Great Smials.

“How did it come to be a Yule Tea, then?” Pimpernel asked her older sister.

“Because Donna, Prima, and Sada only wanted a Tea from the beginning,” Pearl answered, then winced when she pricked her finger with the needle. “They made all of Uncle Addie’s favourite foods at tea yesterday, although little did they know he’d be like butter in their hands.”

“Pearl-lass,” Eglantine reproved her eldest daughter, “we don’t speak of our loved ones as if they’re prey at a hunt.”

“Well, it worked, Mother,” said Pearl earnestly, “Uncle Addie approved of them having a Yule party, then Donna told him all they were after was a Tea party.”

“Are we invited?” Pervinca ventured to ask.

“You mean, are you invited? Of course not!” Pimpernel teased her. “You’re far too young.”

“I’m eighteen now!”

“Stop it!” Pearl put in, stopping the argument then and there. “You’re both behaving like a couple of faunts. Yes, you are invited, Vinca. You ought to know Donna better than that.”

“Mistress?” The voice of Lilly came from the doorway in the front of the room.

“Yes?”

Lilly stood just inside the parlour as she introduced the guest still behind the door. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Mistress--’tis Mister Frodo Baggins of Hobbiton t’ see ye.”

“Let him inside please, Lilly.”

Lilly gave a small curtsy before opening the door wider. Into the parlour stepped a young hobbit just out of his tweens with longish dark curls and bright blue eyes, wearing sable breeches, grey waistcoat, crisp white shirt, black cravat and a sable dress jacket to match. Frodo gave a bow to the ladies in the parlour.

Eglantine and her daughters laid aside their needlework to stand to their feet, promptly responding with a curtsy to their male guest. Eglantine smiled broadly, “Welcome to Great Smials, Cousin Frodo!”

Frodo walked up to his elder cousin, kissing her on the cheek. “Thank you, Cousin Tina. Hullo Pearl...Pimpernel...Pervinca.”

“Have you been shown to your room yet?” asked Eglantine.

“I have, and it’s quite splendid! My luggage is already there, but I shall leave unpacking for later.”

“Well, I do hope you find it to your liking throughout your stay. How have you been, Frodo? I’m afraid we’ve already had elevenses.” Eglantine gestured to the chair easy across the low tea table. “Please, do sit down. Lilly, please bring a tray with food and refreshment for our guest.”

“Aye, Ma’am,” said Lilly, then left the room.

“Thank you,” said Frodo, taking the seat offered. “I’m getting on rather well at Bag End. I miss dear old Bilbo...but otherwise, I am fine. Sam Gamgee looks after the garden--and me, from time to time.”

“You know that you are welcome here at any time, Frodo.”

“I do, and thank you, Tina.” Frodo gazed nervously about the room...full of young lasses. “I sought for Paladin but was told he wasn’t in.”

Eglantine answered, “Yes, he went to Tuckborough after second breakfast on errand. He should be returning soon, and I know he is eager to greet you!”

* * *

Still in his cloak and topcoat, Paladin made his way through the labyrinth of tunnels to his cousin Addie’s apartments in the west wing with a brown sack under his arm. How should he approach this matter? All Paladin knew was that nothing would be the same as it was this morning when he woke up. Many things were about to change in the course of the day.

Before he knew it, Paladin was pounding on the door of his life-long friend. “Addie! It’s me--Paladin.”

However, the person who opened the door wasn’t who he wanted. “Hullo, Uncle Paladin!” said Everard.

“Hullo--where’s your father, lad?”

“He went down to the common room after elevenses to have a smoke with Uncle Ferdinand.”

“Of all places,” Paladin muttered.

“Sorry?”

“Never mind, Ev,” said Paladin, “I’ll go find him where he you said, but should I miss him, please tell him to look for me in my study--at once!”

After another five minutes of twisting and turning in the tunnels of Great Smials toward the north wing, Paladin was finally rewarded with the sight of the open double doors of the common room; a place where residents gathered to be social, have a mug or a smoke. Sometimes ladies would bring their knitting along and sit with each other, but this didn’t happen very often when the room was filled with acrid pipe smoke.

And today happened to be one of those times. There were only five persons inside the room--one of which was in the midst of hearty laughter that Paladin recognised right away. Paladin was growing quite warm by now, so as soon as he stepped into the warm, ambient room lit with a toasty fire and winter sunlight, he set down his sack then took off his cloak and topcoat, gathering them neatly to place over the arm of an empty chair.

“Hullo, Addie,” he said to his friend, “...and hullo, Ferdie.”

Paladin was on amiable terms with his cousin Ferdinand, however, in the past, neither Paladin or Adelard knew which side of the fence their cousin stood on with regard to friendship...or Ferumbras. Thus, for the most part, Paladin and Addie kept anything important or deviant between themselves.

“Where have you been all morning?” asked Addie, eyeing the sack in Paladin’s hand.

“Picking up gifts for the graduate ceremony on Highday,” Paladin replied, though his eyes said volumes. We need to talk privately--and soon!

Addie nodded, tendrils of pipe-smoke streaming upward from his lips. He knew his best friend like the back of his hand. “Ah, yes! My Everard is almost finished with the certificates--perhaps you could come up to my quarters after lunch and give your approval?”

“Aye, I would,” Paladin nodded with much satisfaction.

“Don’t look now,” Addie murmured to Paladin, “but guess who just walked in.”

“Ferumbras!” Ferdinand greeted their cousin warmly. “Are we still on for a game of skittles tomorrow morning?”

“As long as I wake up refreshed and without this nagging headache,” Ferumbras replied, rubbing at one of his eyes.

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that,” said Addie, his voice dripping with feigned sympathy and doing his utmost to hide his glee. Ferumbras merely responded with an icy glare.

“Paladin,” Ferumbras spoke condescendingly, “I do hope you greet my guests at Yule far better than you greet your own. A young Mr. Baggins asked for you a half hour ago and is still waiting for you somewhere I suppose.

“I don’t suppose you offered him anything to ease the hours he spent travelling on the road, did you?” asked Addie, his green eyes throwing daggers in return to Ferumbras.

“He is not my concern--nor my guest,” Ferumbras replied haughtily. He turned to face Paladin. “I came in search of you to tell you I am retiring to my bedchamber, as I am experiencing another one of my headaches. I want you to take over my duties for the rest of the day.”

“Why did you have to search for me?” asked Paladin. “I explained to you this morning where I would be and that I would return in time for my duties this afternoon.”

“Had I known your errand was sharing jests in the common room, I would have denied your request.”

Now Paladin was getting a bit angry. “Denied my request? Don’t be ridiculous! I have rarely asked for time off to tend to personal matters--and there were many times that I should have. If there is a problem with my work-habits then stand tall like a hobbit and tell me.”

“Don’t tempt me!” Ferumbras locked eyes with Paladin, who did not flinch. With that said, Ferumbras walked out of the room.

“Well!” said Ferdinand, nervously getting up from his chair. “I think I hear my wife calling me. See you lads later!”

Paladin had his eye on the fellow just ahead of Ferdinand exiting the room. Adelard had to grab one of Paladin’s arms to pull him back into his seat. “Let the silly buffoon go!”

“Did you hear what he said?” Paladin asked his cousin in dismay. “I’d like to bloody his nose for that!”

“So would I, but he isn’t worth it, Cousin! They’d make us both lower than the least of the servants of Great Smials until the day we die for striking the Thain. I believe his day is coming, and no mistake.” Addie emptied his pipe in the ash bowl provided on the tea table. “Go and see to Frodo, then after luncheon come to my place and we shall talk more, eh? I shall stop by Ferumbras’ study to take a look at his engagement tablet for today and let you know what was on his schedule--which was probably nothing, besides the Name Blessing. Oh, by the by, when you see him please extend an invitation to Frodo to have luncheon tomorrow in my apartment. Your lads are always welcome, too.”

“Thank you,” said Paladin amiably, though still seething over Ferumbras. “I shall do that.”

Chapter 5, The Destiny of One

Frodo and the ladies had settled upon the couch or in chairs inside the parlour of Paladin’s residence. A tea tray with teacups, saucers, honey, milk, bread, butter, and cheese lay upon the tea table in the centre.

“Do you get many visitors at Bag End, Frodo?” Eglantine asked.

“Only the ones I invite,” he chuckled. “No, I’m afraid that the name of ‘Mad Baggins’ has been applied to me of late. No one would dare enter a cracked hobbit’s home.”

“I would!” announced Pervinca, and with not a little enthusiasm. Then added quickly, “Not that I think you’re cracked.”

“Vinca!” Pimpernel nudged her younger sister.

“Well, he isn’t!” Pervinca ignored the reproach and forged on. “But why do they say such things?”

Quite amused, Frodo held his smile in check with the aplomb of a true gentlehobbit. “Because I continue to honour Bilbo on our birthday. Pippin can recount to you the stares I received after drinking to Bilbo’s health out in the garden this past Halimath.”

“Goodness, I hope not dear old Sam--he’s always been so kind to you,” said Pervinca. Her older sisters merely rolled their eyes at her making a fuss over their cousin. “Stop nudging me, Pimmie!”

Frodo stole a glance at Eglantine who was blushing crimson by now, and nearly lost his composure in laughter. “Um...no, not dear Sam, Vinca. The stares come from the unimportant neighbours much further down the lane who matter not.”

Frodo had known for years that Paladin’s youngest daughter had developed a crush on him long ago, and he could even pinpoint when it most likely occured. The young bachelor took it all in stride and entertained his young cousin’s interest, feeling that the seventeen year gap was quite safe. Moreover, her sisters or mother would often step in if the lass became too overwhelming.

“All right, ladies,” Eglantine stood up and set her teacup on the tray. “I can see Mavis from here taking her cart into the dining room to up for luncheon. You all know the routine--just because we have a parlourmaid doesn’t mean you don’t have chores. Pearl and Pimpernel will help Mavis set the table while Pervinca returns this tea tray to the kitchen.”

“What if the Thain catches me doing work?” This had happened before; also, Pervinca wasn’t too sure she was finished with Frodo’s inquisition yet.

Eglantine placed her hands on her hips to show she meant business. “Then you can tell him to come see me! Now march, young lady.”

“Yes, Mother,” the teen replied dutifully, doing as she was told. Once Pervinca stacked the teacups and saucers on the tray, she set it on the cart Lilly had brought in earlier then disappeared into the hallway.

“Oh, Frodo--I am so sorry! One day you will become a cracked hobbit if that child doesn’t leave you be.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Cousin Tina,” said Frodo, taking a turn about the room to stretch his legs. “In a few years, she’ll notice a nice young lad her own age and forget all about me.”

“I do hope you’re right about that--though not to forget you,” said Eglantine, “However, we ought to be careful speaking such things in Paladin’s presence--about lads courting his beautiful lasses, especially his Sweet pea--”

Eglantine interrupted herself when the sound of giggling entered the hallway outside. The giggling was unmistakeably Pippin’s.

Frodo grinned, placing a finger to his lips for secrecy, then hid himself behind the parlour door.

“I do like her oatmeal biscuits--with raisins, and her sugar biscuits are delicious, too. However, I like her shortbread the best!” Pippin stated emphatically as he stepped through the door.

“Haaaa!” Frodo jumped out from his hiding place.

The young biscuit-connoisseur let out a yelp as he felt the breath leave his body. Pippin turned round to look at his assailant, and then gleefully jumped into his arms. “Frodo!”

“Oy, Pippin!” Frodo grunted with the weight of his cousin, then fell back onto his bum. “You’re not the little laddie you used to be!”

“I’ve grown since you last saw me on your birthday!” Pippin said while sitting atop his cousin. “You’re here for my graduation, aren’t you? When did you get here?! Is Merry with you? No, I suppose he isn’t or he’d be here trying to attack me as well.”

“I got here about an hour ago,” Frodo answered while allowing Pippin to help him up. He dusted off his breeches then added, “I’ve been sitting in here waiting for you, you goose! And no, I’m just as sorry that Merry isn’t here with me. That way he could have been the one to land on his bum.”

“Well, you’re just in time to eat lunch with us,” said Pippin, then grinned. “Typical Baggins! Always on time for a meal.”

“Pippin, don’t waylay your cousin with a hundred questions at once,” said Eglantine. “Entertain your guests in here while I help the lasses prepare the dining room.”

As Eglantine passed by, Frodo observed another young lad standing near the doorway who appeared to be a couple of years older than Pippin. He looked familiar to Frodo in that he’d seen this lad wandering the tunnels on previous trips to Great Smials to visit other cousins. “And who might this be, Pippin?”

“Allow me to introduce to you, Mister Degger Greenhill,” Pippin announced to his cousin with pretentiousness. “Soon-to-be graduate of Hemlock Academy.”

“At yer service, Mr. Frodo,” Degger responded with a smile and a bow.

“And I at yours,” replied Frodo, also bowing. “So you’re Degger!”

“Aye, sir, I am,” said Degger, his eyes darting from Pippin to Frodo. “Am I in trouble, sir?”

“No, although Pippin has spoken of you while visiting at Bag End,” said Frodo, then quickly added with a smile, “good things, of course! However, I had never been able put the name to a face--until now. I’ve seen you round Great Smials as a server, have I not?”

“Aye, sir, ye have,” Degger acknowledged the claim without shame. “I have served Mr. Adelard and his family at one time or another, but mostly I worked in the kitchen.”

Degger didn’t mind serving Adelard’s family one bit--they treated him nicely and Everard was the one who initially taught Degger his letters and sums. Degger also had the occasion to serve other members of the Took clan living within Great Smials...and at times wasn’t treated nicely at all.

Frodo nodded in recognition. “Yes--visiting Reggie at his Coming-of-age party is where I recall seeing you, although I don’t know how your name has escaped me.”

“We weren’t properly introduced, sir, if ye get my meanin’. I was servin’ at Mr. Reggie’s party. ’Tisn’t a common name, anyway, sir,” Degger replied. He figured Nick, Bob, or even Harry would be easier names to remember his own.

“Precisely my point,” stated Frodo. He held out his right hand, offering it in friendship. “But I am very pleased to finally make your acquaintance. And very well done, if I might add, for achieving your goal. I’ve heard how diligent you’ve worked.”

Degger took Frodo’s hand and shook it. “Thank ye, sir. Mr. Merry had a lot t’ do with it. We’ve not gotten word if I’ve passed my final exam, so I’m not graduated just yet.”

“I have much confidence in my cousin’s ability to tutor you,” Frodo encouraged the teen. “Merry is a very bright lad.” He pulled Pippin close and then tousled the honey-brown curls, “And with my other clever cousin, passing exams is quite simply his strong suit.” Frodo spoke to Pippin teasingly, “You didn’t even open the book, I’ll warrant!”

“I did so!” Pippin countered. “You were there Degger--tell him.”

Degger smiled, a gleam of mischief in his brown eyes. “Indeed I was there, Mr. Frodo,” he said. “I cannot deny that Mr. Pippin did open up his book...an’ then close it again. Mr. Pippin was tryin’ to recount from mem’ry a poem he had written for Mr. Merry last spring when he thought he heard his dad’s voice outside o’ his door. He used the book to hide his poetry.”

Frodo gave a disparaging glare to his cousin. “Why would you want to hide your poetry, Pippin?”

“Because I wrote it for Merry.”

“Why for Merry?”

Pippin gave no answer, giving Frodo his most innocent look.

“You naughty little hobbit--using your study book to hide your smutty poetry!” Then Frodo gazed about, ensuring there weren’t any lasses present in the room. “Let me read it later!”

* * *

Meanwhile, at the further end of the tunnel that belonged to Paladin’s family...

Paladin rushed through the inner private entrance of his tunnel toward the family dining room trying his best not to be late for his own meal. He and Tina were adamant about punctuality at meals, and taught their children the same, therefore, they were just as firm about setting the example.

Paladin’s tunnel was a good-sized burrow located on the main level in the north wing across from the Took and Thain’s enormous dwelling. On the outer side, or the side with windows looking out into the north-west garden, was a parlour, the master bedroom, and six smaller bedrooms--and each bedroom was divided into two smaller rooms; the actual bedroom and a sitting room to entertain private guests. On the inner side, the side whose solid walls were shared with an inner hallway in the north wing, encompassed the dining room with double doors made of rich walnut wood and long oval stained-glass windows. Further down the hall was Paladin’s private study, a mathom room, privy, bathing room, and a small auxiliary kitchen. Both the parlour and dining room were on the northern tip of the tunnel facing outside, so each had a window facing the north garden.

Breathless from his jaunt through the tunnels, Paladin quickly slipped inside his and Eglantine’s bedroom to rid himself of the burden he carried this past hour. He let his cloak and topcoat fall over the back of a settle then placed the brown sack in the seat of the same. He stood staring at that sack for a good long second before coming back to the present, making haste toward luncheon.

“Frodo! You’ve made it!” he said as he took his seat at the head of the dining table. “I trust your trip was uneventful?”

“Unfortunately, Cousin” Frodo remarked dryly.

Paladin smiled; good old Bilbo had left his mark in his adopted heir. Gazing about at the lovely faces of his family, Paladin softly spoke his customary blessing upon the meal. “Let us always remember to be thankful for the bountiful harvest upon our table.” With that, the meal commenced.

Platters were passed about the table, and conversation was minimal during the initial plunge. Paladin heard none of it; his thoughts were on things of a grave nature. Eglantine noticed her husband’s taciturn mood.

“What is on your mind, my dear?” she asked discreetly, in a whispering tone.

Paladin paused before lifting a forkful of potatoes to his mouth. He replied likewise, “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

Eglantine gave her beloved a wry grin. “Because I know you too well, love. Something is bothering you.”

Paladin bought time in his reply by taking a sip of his water, then he relented to her guess. He had to admit to himself that he needed to speak with someone quick about what he’d learnt this morning or burst. “I need to speak with you after luncheon--alone.”

Her husband’s remark concerned Eglantine. “Does it have anything to do with our son?”

Paladin shook his head, trying not to draw the attention of their children and guest.

Eglantine raised her eyebrows in surprise, also taking a sip of water. “Very well, then.”

* * *

“What is all of this secrecy about, Paladin?” Eglantine asked her husband as he softly but firmly closed the door to their bedroom, shutting out all distracting noise. She sat upon a soft chair near to the settle where Paladin left his things.

Paladin took the sack and emptied it, lining three oblong wooden boxes upon the tea table.

Eglantine studied the identical boxes. “Which one is Pervinca’s gift?”

“This one,” said Paladin, opening the box on the far left. He hastily opened it and then shut it, quickly laying it off to the side.

“Paladin!”

“All right, Tina,” he said, “but if I don’t tell my tale soon I’m going to climb the walls!” He again reached for the box made of a light-coloured wood and opened it more slowly for his wife to view.

Brushing aside his petty outburst for the moment, Eglantine gasped at the sight of a lovely gold necklace upon black velvet with a gold tear-shaped pendant that held a citrine gem. “It’s beautiful, Paladin! She’s going to love it--her birthstone made into a necklace. Her first real piece of jewellery.” Eglantine felt her eyes welling with tears.

“Yes, that’s nice, dear.” Paladin gently pried Pervinca’s gift from his wife’s hand. “We can sit in here later and weep over our youngest daughter growing up, but right now I have very pressing news.”

“Paladin! What could be more pressing than our children?”

“This!”

Eglantine leaned forward to see inside the remaining two boxes better. Both boxes contained a silver pocket watch upon black velvet, and an artful design etched upon the lid of each watch. Eglantine instantly recognised the watch with the eagle in flight; the other, a duck floating in a pond.

“I thought you said Degger’s watch was repairable?”

“It was,” Paladin answered. “What you’re looking at is Degger’s watch--we’ve just never seen it with a lid before.” He next opened the decorative lid of each pocket watch, revealing the same respective design on the face of the watch in a hand-painted likeness. On the inside of the lid of one pocket watch was inscribed, ‘Hildigrim’, the other had no such inscription. “Do you notice the differences in the handiwork of the lids?”

“Only that your grandfather’s name appears on yours,” Eglantine said, then looked closer at the pair. “Now I see it--yours has more depth to the eagle and its wings. The other doesn’t; in comparison, it almost looks as if it’s made from a poor quality metal.”

Paladin looked at his wife, “That poor-quality metal is actually a superior quality silver. My grandfather’s watch is made of mithril...and so is the other watch.” Paladin waited for his words to sink into his Tina’s head, but the blank expression on her face told him otherwise.

“You see,” he elaborated, “both of these watches are made from the same material--mithril. The lid on Degger’s watch has been lost to who knows where and when. Mr. Tooter did the best he could on such short notice. A proper replacement lid is being ordered from the Misty Mountains--where the Dwarves live.”

If the situation wasn’t so dire, Paladin would have laughed; Eglantine’s mystified features mirrored that of his own just three hours ago when Robin Tooter told him of the find. It was this discovery that prompted Mr. Tooter to ask Degger the day before as to how his father came to possess the watch.

Slowly Eglantine gathered her wits to formulate her response. “What you’re saying, is that both watches are made of the same metal inside and out, aside from the individual designs on the lids and the faces, they’re essentially identical and were made by the same craft-hobbit--or craft-person.”

Paladin’s face lit up. “Yes!”

Eglantine’s face changed from confused to concern. “But Paladin, that isn’t entirely impossible. I know Mr. Tooter is a jeweller, so he ought to know what mithril looks like, but...what if the watch was given to Degger’s father--or he purchased it second-hand. Have you considered that?”

“To some degree, yes, Tina.” Eglantine’s sobering reaction did not erase the sparkle in Paladin’s eyes. “However,” he continued, “the fact is that there are not many mithril pocket watches in the Shire--or Buckland. They’re simply far too expensive--they must be ordered special in a faraway place, and made according to the customer’s specifications.

“I met with Addie in the common room prior to luncheon--which is why I was running behind schedule, and I am on my way to his apartments right now. I want to let him in on this secret so that we both can work this out together. Tina--you mustn’t tell a soul until I say it is all right to do so--especially do not tell Degger. When the time comes, he will be the first to know.”

“Well, I hope you and Addie work quickly and thoroughly,” said Eglantine. “The ceremony is on Highday. Degger will be expecting to pick up his watch at the jeweller’s shop the following morning.”

Paladin thought more on that issue. “Then I suppose we’ll have to break the news to him sooner when I give them their gifts before the ceremony. I would not give a gift to Pippin and Vinca, and none to Degger. He’s worked very hard to get to this point.”

“And in spite of Cousin Ferumbras,” Eglantine pointed out.

“Oh, Tina!” Paladin sank onto the couch. “I almost did the unforgivable when I saw him in the common room. He insulted me right in front of Addie and Ferdinand. I was so angry--I started to go after him to punch him in the face, but fortunately, Addie stopped me.” He looked at his beloved for confirmation that he wasn't starting to crack.

“That’s dreadful!” said Eglantine with dismay. “You’re right--that is so unlike you, Paladin.”

“Tina, why do I feel such anger toward that hobbit? It never bothered me before when Ferumbras insulted me. Insulting my wife and children is one thing--but I should be able to ignore his childish remarks against me. When did my anger grow so strong toward him?”

Eglantine rose from her chair to sit beside her husband on the couch. “You have to admit, Paladin, that Ferumbras has put you under a great deal of strain since the summer,” she replied. Eglantine sat beside her beloved, lovingly combing his curls with her fingers. “You don’t have to do this, love,” she whispered. “We can always go back to Whitwell.”

“No...,” said Paladin, turning his weary eyes to his wife. “No. We can’t--I can’t. We both know that Pippin is a very bright lad--that farming will satisfy him for only so long before his nose twitches for something more. He is destined for more.”

Looking into Paladin’s deep green eyes, Eglantine took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “I will be by your side no matter what happens. I love you, Paladin.”

When she spoke those words to him, Paladin leaned in to tenderly kiss his wife. “I love you, too.” He stood to his feet then kissed her lovely head, speaking softly. “I must go now--Addie is waiting.”

* * *

The entire apartment was quiet; even if a mouse were to tiptoe across the floor, it would have sounded like a heard of oliphants to Paladin. Not that he had ever heard an oliphant stomp over land. The fact was, oliphants were a figment of children’s tales.

Paladin sat upon the edge of the soft, padded chair in the parlour of Adelard Took’s quarters waiting expectantly for his cousin’s reply to the same news he gave Eglantine. Addie sat in his own padded chair as he watched the dancing flames in the hearth reach up toward the chimney flue. Initially, Paladin saw the familiar look in his friend’s face--the one that was about to tell him he was cracked. Now, however, it appeared pensive. Paladin was well acquainted with that expression as well; it meant perhaps that Addie was truly considering his theory. Finally, Addie took out his pipe and began to fill it with pipe-weed from his pouch.

Paladin was desperate to know his cousin’s opinion on the matter and felt he could wait no longer. “Well?”

Addie finished lighting his pipe with the flint and tinder. At length, he blew out a few puffs of smoke before answering his younger cousin. “You are asking much of me to believe everything you’re proposing.”

“Asking much of you? Whatever do you mean? The evidence speaks for itself.”

“Evidence is manifested in hundreds of ways, Paladin,” said Adelard. “Have you considered any of those?”

“I have considered other possibilities--like how a penniless hobbit from Michel Delving might come upon a pocket watch made of mithril--and it’s not making sense, Addie.”

“Do you suppose it was stolen from its owner?”

“If Degger was prone to small acts of pinching, then I might have taken that approach. I would have already guessed that perhaps his father’s habits had been passed down to him. But for as long as I’ve known Degger, even when he lived with me for a short time at Whitwell, he’s never taken anything without permission.”

“What if his father purchased it from another hobbit that was desperate for money?”

“I hardly think that the owner of a mithril pocket watch would suddenly become so severely impoverished to sell his most valuable possession to a hobbit of much lesser means--to a hobbit who can barely put food on the table and who most certainly doesn’t have the money worth its price. That would undoubtedly be a scandalous act--the poorer hobbit taking food from the mouths of his children and giving it to a pocket watch! Furthermore, I should think that the owner of the mithril pocket watch would not resort to taking money from a poor hobbit like that with the eyes of his peers upon him.”

Adelard sighed; it seemed Paladin had indeed thought of other possibilities. However, Addie wasn’t one to be impulsive. “You’re not going to say anything to him, are you?”

“Why not? He has the right to know his pocket watch is made of mithril.”

“He may have the right to know, but do you really think he will care?”

“Of course he will!” said Paladin. “Degger knows exactly what mithril is--he and Pippin learned about gems and precious metals not long ago with Miss Hemlock.”

“Paladin, we don’t have all of the facts yet. All we know--or all you’ve been told--is that the watch is made of mithril. It might actually frighten the lad to know he carries a watch worth a year’s wages in his pocket.”

Paladin started to cave. Perhaps his cousin was right. “I still believe there is a mystery to uncover here, Addie, mark my word.”

“That may well be, and I daresay it will uncover itself when the time comes. But I don’t believe the time is now.”

Paladin sat back in his chair wondering what the coming days would bring; would he be able to contain himself when the time came to give Degger his gift.

“Well,” said Addie, standing to his feet, breaking the long moment of reflection, “it’s half-past two and you have a Blessing to give little Emmaline Took at teatime.”

“Aye!” Paladin also rose from his chair. “Are you coming?”

“I hadn’t planned on it, but seeing this is your first endeavour by yourself, then I shall come with for support.” Adelard grabbed his topcoat and cloak and accompanied Paladin to the Blessing.

Chapter 6, The Fate of the Other

Pippin’s eyes slowly blinked open to a semi-dark room. A grey light framed the curtains that he had drawn shut prior to collapsing in bed. No...not yet, he groaned within. He turned over to find a more comfortable position. Pippin was just about to float off into dreamland once again when he heard pounding upon his bedroom door.

“Pippin!” came Pervinca’s familiar piercing voice inside his room. “It’s a quarter to the hour--Mother says you have to get dressed and presentable for second breakfast right now.”

Pippin’s brain was still a bit foggy; he lay there in his bed letting his sister’s words sink into his thoughts. Second breakfast? It’s too early for that yet. Pippin wiped the slobber away from his mouth then brought the blankets up over his head where it was warm and toasty underneath.

“Get up, you slowcoach!” Vinca urged her brother to wakefulness when she lightly tugged on his toes. “You have guests to entertain out here!”

“It’s just Frodo,” he murmured.

Not to be put off, Vinca restated their mother’s message with more emphasis before closing the door. “Mother says now, Pip!”

It was a good thing that Pervinca left when she did, because a good-sized pillow walloped against the doorjamb where her head had been.

Pippin angrily threw aside his toasty blankets to rise, and then danced across the cold floor on his tiptoes toward his dressing gown laid over the backside of a chair by the fireplace.

He and the lads--that is, Frodo, Reggie, Everard, and Degger all stayed up into the wee hours of the morning talking and playing draughts. The jollity was a bit of a celebratory thing for the youngest two passing their exams. It had been a long time since Pippin had stayed up that late; for the past eight months, his (somewhat) normal routine was to revise the day’s lessons, write out his night work, and then go to bed--which was usually before ten o’clock. All Pippin remembered when he entered his room was the little-hand of his wall clock being somewhere near the “3” position.

Wrapping his dressing gown round him, Pippin went up to his outer door to peek into the hallway to see if he could make a quick trip to the privy unnoticed. Good! The hall was clear, and out he went.

“What the devil is this? Somebody’s bed-head child trying to sneak past us!”

Pippin stood rooted halfway from his bedroom to the privy. No one seemed to be in the hallway when he had peeped into it, yet...he knew that voice--and it certainly wasn’t Frodo’s! He turned round to see the face of his best friend in the whole world standing beside Fredegar Bolger.

“Merry!” cried Pippin, running to greet his cousin and bombard him with hugs. “At first I thought you would come with Frodo, but you didn’t, so then I thought that you’d come alone--but I knew Uncle Sara and Aunt Essie wouldn’t allow you to do that yet. You’re here for my graduation, too, aren’t you? And so is Freddy! This is the best Yule present!”

Merry laughed at hearing Pippin talk excitedly. “Well, hurry up, you slowcoach! We got an early start from the inn we stopped at overnight and ate a hasty first breakfast.”

Pippin smiled, “Guests indeed! You sent Vinca to say all those things, didn’t you?”

Now Merry smiled in return, “Go on, now! Second breakfast is almost ready, and I’m hungry.”

“I don’t think he wants you to hurry too much, Pip,” Fredegar put in, eyeing a particular scene going on inside the dining room. “He’s got a wonderful view from where he is. But I suppose beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” He winked at Merry, who blushed.

Pippin leaned in a bit for a better look and saw none other than Miss Estella Bolger sharing a funny moment with her friend Pervinca.

Freddy playfully nudged Merry’s arm and then snickered. He was going to enjoy this! So far, other than natural conversation, Merry only gazed with much admiration toward Estella, and as far as Freddy knew, his sister hadn’t noticed lads much as of yet. But of course, Freddy would be keeping an eye out anyway.

Once Pippin was dressed and presentable, everyone sat down to second breakfast. Upon the arrival of the newer guests, Eglantine ordered more food to be brought in to accommodate everyone: Paladin’s family, Frodo, Degger, Merry, Fredegar, and Estella. When everyone was getting full and merely filling up the corners, folks splintered off into their own conversations.

“So what is there to do round here for fun, Peregrin Took?” Freddy asked Pippin while nibbling on piece of bacon. Having an uncle, aunt, and cousins here at Great Smials, Freddy was no stranger to the enormous dwelling; he was merely having a jest with his young friend. “If you’re going to play host as heir to the heir of the Took and Thain, you must learn how to entertain your guests.”

Pippin sat back in his chair, also nibbling on a slice of bacon, pondering Freddy’s question.

Merry looked at Pip, “What about that ball I gave you for my birthday this year?”

Pippin thought on that for a bit. However, it had been placed alongside his wooden soldiers, bags of marbles, and other playthings inside his old toy-chest. Balls were meant to be played with in games that required a group of children--and the only lad round the Smials on a more permanent basis that was close to Pippin’s age was Degger. Merry’s visits would now be much shorter, as his father was trying to spend as much time with his son as he could while teaching him the basics of being Master of Buckland and of Brandy Hall.

“I think kicking the ball around in the garden is a splendid idea,” said the adult voice at the head of the table.

Pippin looked over to his father, who smiled back at his son. “Right--a game of foot-ball does sound fun.”

“There are plenty of lads present and I think you all should take advantage of the relatively fair weather outside while you can,” said Paladin, the 'farmer' in him ever present. "It looks like it might rain a bit later on." 

With a baffled expression on his face, Degger asked, “How do you play foot-ball?”

“You mean you’ve never played foot-ball?” asked Freddy.

Degger shook his head. He didn’t tell Mr. Freddy that when he was growing up, he was busy helping to put bread on the table and had no time to learn games that other lads took for granted.

Sometime later six lads were assembled on the north lawn of Great Smials awaiting the final players; Freddy and his cousin Ferdibrand. Freddy suggested that Ferdie play to even out the teams. Team One had Pippin, Frodo, Merry, and Degger. Team Two consisted of Reggie, Everard, and the last two players. As they waited, the low grey clouds that promised rain delivered it in the form of a light mist. Lads being lads, they thought it would only add to their enjoyment.

Freddy, hands in his pockets, sauntered a bit behind his cousin wearing a wry grin as they met up with the teams. “Ferdie’s mum said he’s not to come home all muddied up.”

“Really?” asked Merry.

“I suppose that’ll be all right, won’t it, lads?” Everard spoke with genuine concern...and with an impish smirk.

“Not a speck of dirt!” said Pippin, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

What a decent lot, these lads, Degger thought to himself--all willin' t' help Mr. Ferdibrand t' not get muddy. 

~ ~ ~

“Kick it, Pippin!!” Frodo shouted to his young team mate.

Pippin gave the ball his hardest kick, but it sailed past the goal (a wheelbarrow turned onto its side) and missed the intended target. Instead, it struck Ferdibrand firmly on his bum when he swerved to avoid the ball. Unfortunately, at that same moment, Reggie and Freddy “accidentally” knocked down their team mate when they also tried to block the ball from going toward the wheelbarrow. Ferdibrand Took went down hard upon the soft, wet earth.

“That’s too bad, Ferdie!” laughed Pippin.

“So sorry, cousin,” said two somewhat apologetic lads.

Everyone was muddied from the fur on their feet up to the jackets they wore...except for Degger, who for some reason managed to escape the mad, muddy chaos. It didn’t last long though; Everard took note of Degger’s condition and remedied that with Merry’s help on the next play.

Finally, having had enough, Ferdibrand made a break for it, running up the garden path past the north wing. Realising he was running the wrong way (his family lived in the upper level of the west wing), he turned round but was met by a wall of six lads running behind him. Degger, always the reserved one, jogged behind the six assailants dribbling the ball with his feet. Ferdie didn’t retreat but five feet before he was tackled to the ground (yet again) on the eastern side of the north wing. In seconds, the lads were all laying about in a fit of giggles and laughter.

“You knew you had it coming!” stated Freddy, still holding his sides.

“Only because you told them about my mum!” Ferdie countered. He, too, was laughing though he knew he was going to get in trouble later.

The weather was turning colder, and Pippin felt a bit of a shiver run through him. He got up to get the blood moving again by kicking the ball between him and Degger. “Pass it to me,” said Pippin. Degger complied, and so they kicked the ball while the rest of the lads got their bearings and stood to their feet.

“How do you like the foot-ball game, Degger?” Pippin asked his friend.

“It’s fun,” Degger replied in a non-committal way.

“Let’s get back to our side of the garden, lads,” said Reggie. He had a gut feeling that something ominous was going to happen.

“Be quick!” shouted Pippin, giving the ball a sudden hard kick toward Degger.

Degger ran to intercept it, but missed. The ball hit the large round window on the lowest level of the north wing. The Thain’s side of the wing.

Pippin winced, hearing a distinct dull cracking of glass.

“Oh, no,” Frodo groaned.

They all stood frozen--in more ways than one--waiting for Cousin Ferumbras to come up to the window and start shouting at them. But nothing happened.

“Perhaps he isn’t home,” said Everard after a long, tense minute.

“Yes, he is,” said Ferdibrand. “He ought to be anyway. Cousin Ferumbras was supposed to play a game of skittles with my dad but cancelled because he still had his headache from yesterday.”

Frodo sighed. “Well, there’s nothing for it. Let us go inside and tell what we’ve done.”

* * *

Paladin covered his face with his hands and moaned as if he was in pain. “Please tell me you’ve made a mistake and accidentally broke the window in the upper level.”

“It’s my fault, Papa,” Pippin spoke quietly. “I’m the one who kicked the ball.”

“But I didn’t catch it,” offered Degger.

“I should have been keeping a closer eye on the younger ones,” said Frodo.

Paladin sighed. “And I am the one who encouraged you lads to go out of doors today.” He stood to his feet, “The sooner we get this over with, the better.”

It didn’t take long for the group to walk the short distance between Paladin’s study and the private entrance of Cousin Ferumbras’ quarters. As the eldest and head of the group, Paladin knocked upon the large double doors while calling his cousin’s name. A few moments passed by before he repeated his effort...and still no answer.

“Ferumbras?” Paladin opened one of the doors in case his cousin didn’t hear him and took a peek. Not a soul in sight. “Hullo?”

Paladin turned back round to address the lads behind him and then noted that there were now only seven standing there instead of eight. Apparently, Ferdibrand was much like his father. No wonder Ferdinand and Ferumbras were friends--birds of a feather flock together, as it were.

“Reggie, come inside with me; Frodo, please stay out here with the younger lads.”

Together, Paladin and Reggie walked softly into the Thain’s apartment. They walked all the way to the north end to where his over-sized parlour was and looked inside. No one, although Paladin could see the crack in the window that the group of lads had confessed to.

Working their way back toward the door they came in, the pair decided to have a look in the Thain’s study. Again, no one was about. The place was so large that the pattering of their feet on the plush green mat echoed slightly against the hallway walls. Finally, they approached the bedchamber. Once again Paladin knocked before entering.

“Ferumbras?”

This time, they saw the familiar figure of the Thain slumped over on the floor beside his bed. Paladin rushed to his cousin’s side feeling for a pulse or a heart beat.

“Ferumbras! Are you awake?” Paladin turned the elder cousin over onto his back.

Ferumbras’ eyes were closed, saliva oozed out of one corner of his mouth, and the right side of his face drooped a bit lower than the left.

“He’s messed himself,” Reggie noted aloud.

“Aye,” said Paladin. Messing one’s self was often times a sign of death. “But he isn’t dead. I’ve seen this before--his father, Fortinbras, was struck with this same ailment shortly before he died. Help me get him onto the bed, if you please.”

Ferumbras didn’t prove to be too much of a burden for his cousins, however, a low grumbling moan escaped his lips when all was finished.

“Can you hear me, Ferumbras?” asked Paladin, hoping for some sort of response.

The only response Paladin received was a series of slurred, unintelligible sounds. Paladin motioned for Reggie to stand aside with him to discuss the situation. Another moan of seeming protest emitted from the prone hobbit on the bed when he perceived Paladin had moved away from the bed.

“He can’t be left alone like this, Reggie. Please go and get your father and any other Took elder you can find and tell them to meet me in my private study at once. Have Pippin and Degger run and fetch Mistress Besom, the healer--both of those lads know the Smials like the back of their hands and won’t get lost among the tunnels. Ask Frodo to meet me in here--hopefully, between the two of us, we can get our cousin cleaned up before the healer arrives. Tell the others, if they wish, they can sit and wait for news in my parlour. We can’t waste any time, Reg.”

The young hobbit nodded, “Yes, Uncle!”

Chapter 7, A Took’s Moot

An hour later, after conducting a most thorough exam on the Thain, Mistress Besom had brought Paladin and Eglantine alone into Ferumbras’ study to give them her report. Holding each other’s hand, the couple listened intently as the healer spoke.

“Unfortunately, you were correct in your guess,” she said to Paladin. “His father suffered the same attack twenty-four years ago, but I remember it all as if it happened yesterday. Thain Ferumbras cannot speak comprehensibly nor use any part of his body on the right side--just like his father.

“From what you’ve told me, it appears he tried to get out of bed, but because his right side is useless, the force he used to compensate and rise only served to make him drop to the floor as you discovered him. The sad part is that the damage is done; the Thain will need constant care from this moment on. I will stay close by for the next few days should his condition change. I will have my apprentice examine him as well, if you don’t mind. I want her to see first-hand the symptoms of this plague and how it takes its toll on the body. When my observation is over, I shall begin to teach his regular attendant how to care for him.”

“He will never be the same, then?” asked Paladin.

The healer shook her head. “I am afraid not.”

* * *

“How much longer will he be?” asked Brenard Took, impatiently slipping his golden pocket watch back into his waistcoat pocket. He was referring to Paladin, who had called this meeting out of the blue. “It’s getting on toward elevenses.”

Brenard is a descendant of Isengrim II, the youngest brother of Isumbras III. Brenard was called to the meeting along with his two sons Maynard and Greynard. This line of Tooks had never been known for bright wits.

“Trust me, Bren, Paladin requested our presence because it was important,” said Adelard. His son Reggie had told much of what went on in the Thain’s apartment, but Addie said nothing. The look of absolute fright on his eldest son’s face was still etched in his mind. He had complete confidence that the Thain’s Assistant could deal with all the questions thrown at him.

Fiodrin was also at the meeting, having recently removed from Michel Delving back to his father’s old apartment along with his wife, Millie, three sons and two daughters, all in their mid to late tweens. “I saw a lot of activity going on in the Thain’s quarters as I passed by,” he said.

For a while longer, fingers drummed on the arms of chairs and feet paced in front of the fireplace before Paladin finally appeared in the doorway. The grim expression on his face was not encouraging. Eyes were upon him, watching his every move as he sat in the chair at his desk.

Paladin gazed about at all the expectant faces. He began to feel one of his own headaches coming on. “Are there no others? Where’s Ferdinand?”

“He’s on the way,” Adelard put in. “He and Halibrand were playing skittles. He wanted to wash his hands first.”

“Where’s your lad, Reginard?” Brenard asked Addie. “He’s of age now, isn’t he?” While he spoke, the door softly opened an in walked a youthful looking hobbit with light brown hair and green eyes.

“I’m right here, Cousin Bren,” said Reggie, then took a seat on the couch beside his father.

“Sigmund and his family are on holiday in Pincup,” offered Addie in regard to the missing foremost Tooks. “Adalbert is also on holiday as well as Lambard and their respective families. We’re lucky to have this many, Paladin,” he said, “with Yuletide approaching.”

Just as Paladin opened his mouth to concur, Ferdinand and Halibrand momentarily disrupted things when they slipped inside the study, quietly sitting on the other couch in the back of the room.

“Very well,” said Paladin, and then proceeded with the meeting. “I think we’re all here. I regret to inform everyone that a little over an hour ago, Reggie and I found Thain Ferumbras II lying on the floor beside his bed. He has suffered a debilitating illness that renders one side of his body immobile. Currently, Cousin Ferumbras is getting settled and will be under the care of the Mistress Besom for a few days until we can find a suitable attendant for him.”

“Can he function at all?” asked Brenard.

“He can move his left arm and his left leg--that is all I am aware of at this point. Any further information will be forthcoming from Mistress Besom in the course of her examination.

“So what are you proposing?”

“I have been too preoccupied this past hour to formulate any sort of proposal, Brenard,” answered Paladin. “My initial thought was merely to gather together all who should know that the Took and Thain is in bad health.”

“I have a proposal,” announced Adelard. He almost grinned when Paladin shot him a look of dismay. “I propose that as heir to the titles, Cousin Paladin steps up and fills in until Ferumbras is once again hale.”

“But that could be a long time,” said Paladin, desperately trying to hide the fright in his voice. Now that the moment came, Paladin wondered if he was truly ready for such responsibility. What duties were there that Ferumbras had yet to train him on? Nonetheless, Addie was right; someone had to carry on while Ferumbras recuperated. At least, Paladin hoped that there would be improvement. For all of his disagreements with Ferumbras and angry moments, Paladin never wished this upon his cousin.

“I don’t believe we ought to act so rashly until we know further what has befallen the current Took and Thain,” said Greynard, puffing on his long-stemmed pipe.

“Rashly?” said Fiodrin. “Lad, I don’t think you know the seriousness of the situation. Have you heard what our cousin said? The Took and Thain is incapacitated, and I am quite sure it will be indefinitely. The seniors in this room pretty much know what we’re dealing with here--we’ve seen it before in our parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and older cousins.

“Cousin Paladin is the only one in this room who has shadowed Ferumbras for almost a year, learning everything from the master himself, so to speak.” Bits of snickering permeated the room at the amusing reference to Buckland.

“He also is the only one in this room who is heir to the titles,” Addie reminded them all.

Everyone became silent at the last remark, all eyes gazing in Paladin’s direction. Paladin nervously cleared his throat. “I think I should...excuse myself to allow your discussion to proceed unhindered. I’ll be in my parlour with the children; someone needs to tell them what has transpired.”

* * *

Exiting his study to explain things to the children was not an empty excuse Paladin used in attempt to allow the debate go on. When he shut the door behind him, Paladin made straight for the parlour at the end of the hallway. Frodo stood near the window beside Eglantine while Paladin answered questions from the young group.

“Will...,” Pippin hesitated, not wanting to sound crass, “Will...will there still be...”

“Will there still be a graduation ceremony tomorrow?” Paladin spoke the difficult question aloud. “I think so,” he said, “although there might be a small cloud of gloom in the air. Our joy will be tempered by the health of our cousin lying ill in his bedchamber.”

“Aye,” Pippin replied sadly.

“Cousin Ferumbras won’t be getting better any time soon, will he, Father?” Pearl asked, sorrow in her voice. She looked away when he shook his head no. “Then essentially, without the actual titles, you will be the Took and Thain.” Her last remark was more a statement requiring affirmation than a question. Young Pearl was certainly not worried about titles; she and her siblings had been discussing the inevitable ever since they moved to Great Smials.

“That seemed to be where the conversation was heading when I left Addie and the others in the study. Pearl love,” Paladin reasoned, “somebody has to act on the Thain’s behalf in his absence.”

“I know, but,” Pearl paused to wipe a tear away, “we imagined this day would be a long way off.” She gave a tearful, half-hearted smile. “Excuse me,” she said, walking hurriedly out of the parlour.

Pimpernel’s expression was unreadable, as was Pervinca’s. The two younger lasses ran after their sister. Paladin looked with dismay at his wife. “What else was I to say?” he said despairingly.

“You did fine, dear--she’s just upset,” said Eglantine as she went after her daughters.

“Paladin!” Adelard hissed into the room. He hoped he had not interrupted his cousin’s talk. “We’re ready.”

“I’ll be there directly,” said Paladin. “Are you all right, Pippin?” he asked his son.

“I’m fine, Papa,” Pippin answered indifferently. He gave the best smile he could in order to throw off his father.

Paladin was unconvinced, yet he had to be present at the special meeting. “If you need to talk, Pippin, we can do so in a little while.” As he walked past Merry their eyes met. Watch over him. Merry gave an imperceptible nod.

“I suppose I ought to go bathe,” said Fredegar a bit awkwardly. He knew Pippin needed some time alone--or at least with those he was closest to.

“So should we,” said Reggie, giving Everard a nudge. The brothers also quietly left the room.

Only Frodo, Merry, Degger, and Pippin remained.

“You’re a terrible liar,” said Frodo, sitting down beside Pippin on the couch.

“So he is,” said Merry, sitting down on the other side of Pippin.

Frodo inhaled and then exhaled heavily. “Want to talk about it?”

Pippin sulked between his cousins. “What’s there to talk about?”

“You’re frightened, aren’t you?” said Merry.

Pippin stiffened at hearing the truth. “Not for me.”

“For your father, then?”

The thirteen year old nodded then quoted a passage directly from the parchment handed down from Thain to Thain that contained the Charge therein. “‘Guard the Shire; the Thain is her protector. You are Captain of the Hobbitry-in-arms. You are the leader, the hobbit her inhabitants will look to when harm comes her way.’” Of course, the children had gone over said document in their studies, however, young Peregrin Took has his ways of snooping round inside his father’s study.

Pippin blinked away the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. “When harm comes her way,” Pippin sniffled. “Goblins and Orcs still live in the wild lands beyond the borders. What if wolves cross the Brandywine again? They’ve all come across the borders before--what’s to stop them from doing it again?”

“Your dad knows what he’s up against, Pip,” said Frodo. “What if, while you and your family were visiting Hobbiton, Sancho Proudfoot started to dog one of your sisters?”

“He wouldn’t dare,” said Pippin. “I’d punch him in the face.”

“He’s almost twice your size,” Frodo lightly teased his cousin.

“I don’t care!” Pippin firmly stated.

Frodo became serious again. “Do you think your dad feels any less about his family--or the Shire?”

“No...but he’d be alone,” Pippin sulked again.

For reasons unknown to him, Degger suddenly felt as if he was intruding in on a private moment. He started to move toward the door.

“Where are you going?” asked Frodo. “All of this concerns you as well, Degger. Your guardian is now the incumbent Took and Thain.”

Caught unprepared, Degger stood still. “I know that.”

“How do you feel about all of this?” asked Merry.

Degger shrugged his shoulders. “I s’ppose I don’t like t’ see anyone suffer like the Thain is, but...” he trailed off.

“He probably feels indifferently about it,” Pippin spoke up.

Merry’s objective was to get Degger to express himself in his own words; something the lad had very little, or no experience in doing. In a way, Merry still saw himself as Degger’s tutor.

Unhindered, Pippin went on, “He likely feels bad that Cousin Ferumbras has suffered this attack, but delighted that he will no longer meet up with that old goat in the tunnels. Cousin Ferumbras would corner Degger near the kitchen when he’d walk to his room and then berate the Greenhills and servants in general until poor Degger was in tears. My father learned about it in Wedmath from Mistress May, so he had Degger move into our guestroom.”

Suddenly, a fire burned within his bones; Degger spoke from his heart. “I guess if Mr. Paladin has t’ be the Shire’s protector, then I’ll be his protector.”

Frodo and Merry tried hard to keep their laughter from escaping their lips. “You’re not even a tween yet,” said Merry. “A lad has to be at least thirty years old before he can be part of the Hobbitry-in-arms.”

With all seriousness, Degger knelt before Pippin, his hand resting upon his friend’s knee. “I promise, Mr. Pippin. He won’t be alone.”

Chapter 8, Pomp and Circumstance

At about half-past ten, after everyone had gone to bed, Merry crept out of his bedroom and tiptoed down the hallway toward a certain other bedroom door. Ever since this morning when his uncle Paladin was elected acting Took and Thain, Pippin had seemed down in the dumps. Nothing cheered up his cousin; not even the ridiculous sort of jests that young teen-aged lads enjoy the most. They (he, Frodo, Freddie, and Pippin) played draughts all afternoon, and even though Pippin won his fair share of games he never performed his ‘victory trot’ round the parlour, saying he wasn’t in the mood for it. Usually, Pippin was all too eager to rub his victories in the nose of his opponent--in a playful way, of course.

The other lads also made attempts to cheer up the young Took but nothing prevailed. Just before supper, Mistress Bunce and Degger’s sister, Heather, arrived by carriage. Degger was elated, needless to say. Degger doesn’t get to see his sister on a regular basis so the cousins didn’t begrudge the lad abandoning them to entertain her. Freddy and Estella were obligated to spend one evening meal with their uncle Ferdinand and aunt Sage before their holiday was finished, yet, that duty left Frodo and Merry to try to disperse Pippin’s melancholy the rest of the evening on their own.

Walking as light-footed as he could, Merry made his way toward Pippin’s door. He knew that with everything that happened today, Pippin would not sleep easy. Without a sound, Merry turned the door handle and stepped inside his cousin’s bedroom.

“Pip?” he hissed toward the black void of the back bedroom. “Pippin?”

“I’m awake.”

“I thought as much,” said Merry, sitting gently atop the mattress. “We’ve been worried about you, Frodo and I. You ate only two helpings at supper.”

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Pip...,” Merry sighed, “I know a lot has changed for you this past year...but...your dad will make a fine Thain. He’s very organised, well liked, and knows how to deal with hobbits.”

“How do you know how well my father will do?”

Using his forefinger, Merry gently prodded his cousin’s shoulder to make his point. “Perhaps it might have to do with my own dad being heir to Brandy Hall and Buckland. I have complete confidence in my dad’s ability to manage his offices. Do you have that same confidence in your own dad?”

“Of course I do!” Pippin whispered in reply.

“Then why the long face?”

Pippin answered softly, “I’m just worried about him. There’s so much going on at one time lately. He looks so stressed carrying such a heavy load.”

“It appears heavy to you, and I am certain that the burden he’s carrying weighs heavily on his mind. But he’s a grown-up, Pip, and is able to deal with it better than you or I,” said Merry, then gently ruffled Pippin’s curls in the darkness. “I’m not going to tell you to not worry so much about your dad because I know it’s useless. I worry about mine sometimes. But they’re both strong hobbits, and Uncle Paladin knows what he’s doing. Furthermore, if there is anything that he lacks or could use a bit of help on, you know that Frodo and I can be counted on to help--and more than willing to do so. In fact, I’ll put the question to him tomorrow after breakfast. Uncle Paladin won’t be in this alone because we won’t let him be alone.”

This seemed to cheer Pippin a wee bit, for a slight smile played at the edges of his lips. “Thank you, Merry.”

* * *

“Just look at this, Addie!” Paladin held in his hand yet more documents bearing the names of newborns, newlyweds, and deceased. He had discovered this new pile inside a small wooden box underneath the desk. “When was he finally going to get around to this filing these--the fourth age?”

The following morning, Paladin, along with his cousin’s help, was going through some of the things stuffed inside Ferumbras’ desk. At one point, Addie held up a crumpled, rolled up parchment. Even the red ribbon used to secure it was still tied. “What’s this? I’m half afraid to open it!”

“Probably the directive to a resolution given twenty years ago between Tooks who couldn’t resolve the issue on their own,” said Paladin. “It looks quite battered, so I’d say whatever the trouble, it resolved itself over the years without the help of the Took. Open it up and see.”

Addie carefully unbound the parchment and unrolled it. He perused it for a long minute before looking with apprehension to his friend. “I think you might want to see this.”

“Oh?” Paladin took the parchment, looking it over. He recognised the parchment as the final draft of his request to become Degger’s legal guardian. Paladin’s face became beet red. “I gave him this back in Solmath--a whole month before we arrived at Great Smials! He was supposed to give it to Lalia--she was the Took at that time. Instead, he just shoved it into his desk as if it was scrap paper!”

Looking over Paladin’s shoulder, Addie remarked, “All the proper signatures are there--all Ferumbras had to do was ratify it with his seal.”

Paladin went on, venting his fury. “I asked Ferumbras about the document in Thrimidge! He told me that it was still in his mother’s desk and that he’d find it as soon as possible. I heard nothing further, so in Wedmath I asked about it again. That time his response was that it was lost among other documents in his mother’s desk.”

“Taking a good look at the sight of his desk, we can readily see who’s desk it was truly ‘lost’ in,” said Adelard.

Paladin sat back in his chair dumbfounded. “I don’t believe he lost it -- Ferumbras out-and-out lied to me. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so surprised--he was against my request from the start.”

Paladin next got a wild look in his green eyes. He opened the top left desk drawer to bring out the Took’s seal and a bit of wax tinted with red dye. He melted the wax over the parchment with flint and tinder and then used the seal to impress the mark of the Took. “There! That is my official first deed as acting head of the Took clan!”

Addie laughed, “If you intend to watch your son, daughter--and foster son’s graduation ceremony on time, then we need to make haste with this mess.”

Paladin rolled up the parchment, tying the red ribbon round it, then began to neatly stack the paperwork already strewn about on the floor and put it back inside the box they found. “Well, Tina and I are going to meet with them beforehand in our bedroom. We have some gifts to give them--you know, to reward them for their achievement.”

“Splendid idea,” said Addie, helping Paladin to fill the box.

When they approached the door to exit the office, both were startled when two hobbit youths suddenly appeared on the other side of the entrance.

“Merry! Frodo! What brings you lads here?” asked Paladin. “No trouble, I hope.”

“No, no trouble,” Merry responded casually. He stood straight and tall, showing his best grown-up posture. “May we have a word with you, Uncle Paladin, if you please?”

Paladin reached into his waistcoat pocket for his new watch. “I have but a few minutes to spare, lads. The ceremony will begin precisely at ten o’clock.”

“What we have to say will take less than those few minutes,” said Frodo.

“Very well,” Paladin said, stepping aside for the lads to enter. “Come inside, then.”

“Uncle Addie can stay if he wants,” said Merry. Adelard merely shrugged, then strode over to the couch with the others.

“What is on your minds?” Paladin asked once seated on one of the plush couches.

Frodo and Merry stole an apprehensive glance before the elder cousin took the lead. Neither had any idea how Paladin would accept such a proposal. “Merry and I have considered our offer in great length prior to discussing it with you.”

“And what offer do you young fellows have?”

Frodo forged on. “I hope you don’t mind, but Merry and I have an understanding that there is much placed on your shoulders of late with entertaining your guests, the graduation ceremony, and now the Thain bedridden and you stepping in to fill the gap while he is away,” said Frodo, then took in a calming breath. “A certain young teen is very concerned about you. So to help alleviate some of the strain, Merry and I would like to offer a hand, if you will, in whatever way we can.”

Paladin smiled sincerely. “Thank you lads, but I could never impose anything of the sort upon my guests--” he held up a palm when Frodo tried to object. “--and you are mine and Pippin’s guests.” He felt Addie surreptitiously kick his foot. “I’m afraid that I didn’t get to speak to my son like I wanted to yesterday to ease his heart. I shall correct that as soon as I have the chance. But no, I cannot accept your offer, although I thank you fine lads for your thoughtfulness.” He felt Addie nudge his foot again.

“Are you certain, Cousin?” Frodo made one last attempt, “We don’t mind helping out just this once if you would but allow us.”

“When I determine that I’m in over my head and I need help,” said Paladin, patting his young cousin’s shoulder, “you two will be the first to know.”

“Promise?”

Paladin smiled, “I promise. But there is one thing that you can do for me, Merry! Come with me--I must show you something. I want your opinion; Addie is being non-committal at the moment.”

“If you’re referring to a certain pocket watch,” said Addie, grinning, “then yes, I am very non-committal.” He stood to his feet to take his leave. “I’ll see you three at the ceremony, then?”

“Aye,” Paladin answered, then lead Frodo and Merry back to his own tunnel to show them the marvel he uncovered the other day.

“Before I call Pippin and the others in here,” he said, taking the three boxes out of the sack he brought them home in, “I want Merry to tell me if he recognises one of the gifts. I’d ask you, Frodo, but I don’t think you’ve ever seen Degger’s pocket watch, have you?”

Frodo chuckled, “I’ve only been formally introduced to the lad two days ago. No, I’ve never before seen his pocket watch. Are you gifting him with his own mathom, cousin?”

“Of course not,” Paladin answered a bit absently. He was busy finding the box that held the prize. “Well, yes, I suppose in a way. It was--well, you tell him about it Merry, but first, take a look!”

Merry puzzled for a mere second, then his face lit up. “That’s Taddy’s watch! Er, I mean, Degger’s watch. It has a lid now--did you do that, Uncle Paladin?”

“Well, not me, personally, but I took it to Mr. Tooter in Tuckborough. There is something peculiar about this watch, Merry.”

Merry nodded, “Oh, yes, it is very peculiar, that!”

Paladin laughed at Merry’s comment, then gave a brief account to Frodo of their strange trip to Michel Delving seven years ago. “But I brought you lads here to see something else along with Degger’s watch. Look at mine--this is the same heirloom I received from my father when I came of age. I plan to give it to Pippin today, but only as the heirloom that it is. He already has two pocket watches that he can’t keep track of.”

Both Merry and Frodo gazed from one watch to the other.

Merry finally spoke up. “Yours has an eagle in flight engraved into the lid--and Degger’s has a duck floating on a pond.”

“Open the lids, Merry,” Paladin prompted his nephew.

Merry gasped, instantly reaching for the watch that had the familiar duck painted on the face inside the new crystal. “May I?” he asked.

“We have just a few minutes,” Paladin reminded him.

“I can easily tell the difference,” said Frodo.

“What difference do you see, Frodo?” asked Paladin.

“Like Uncle Hildigrim’s, Degger’s watch is made of mithril,” he said casually.

Paladin was taken aback with his cousin’s words. “You’re right.”

Now Merry became surprised. “How can you tell?”

Frodo picked up Hildigrim’s watch. “Even high-quality silver tarns,” he said, holding the treasure aloft. “Mithril does not.”

“Mr. Tooter failed to mention that,” Paladin said, still amazed at Frodo’s guess.

Frodo smiled, albeit mischievously, “Bilbo gave me a mithril chain years ago for his 100^th birthday. He told me then that it would never tarn, and it hasn’t; I’ve never had to polish it.” He pointed to the winding knob and the chain clasp on Hildigrim’s watch, “If this was made of the purest of silver, it still would have turned colour a bit in the crevices. Degger’s watch shines just as bright.” He looked at Paladin, “I wonder how his father came upon such a priceless keepsake?”

Paladin let out a breath of relief. “That’s the question of the hour.”

* * *

The three children stood with beaming smiles on the small dais set inside Paladin’s private parlour. Extra chairs had been brought in for additional well-wishers, but mostly for the graduates and their guests. Miss Hemlock stood at the lectern speaking warmly about her students and dabbing at the corner of her eyes with her handkerchief.

Pervinca stood between the lads, her golden necklace and citrine pendant accenting her honey-brown curls and yellow dress, and the yellow ribbons her sisters helped put in her hair. Not many lasses completed a higher education, in fact, it was pretty rare. Most lasses married and had little time for further book-learning. A lasses education was with a needle and thread, or in the kitchen. Even while she stood there, though she was happy, Pervinca wondered what she would do with her newly acquired higher education that many lads vied for.

Degger, too, smiled, hardly containing his emotions. He had made it this far! There were some scary times when he wanted to throw in the towel and give up. But Mr. Merry wouldn’t have one bit of it. He worked side by side with Degger, day and night for weeks on end to help him become equal with his study mates. Degger knew that his own father, and his brother, would be so happy for him. He smiled at Heather sitting beside Mrs. Clara Bunce, the lady who had taken in his sister. In his pocket Degger fingered his dad’s watch that Mr. Paladin got fixed. And it came with a new chain, too! Tears welled in Degger’s eyes. He thought he would burst with joy and gratefulness.

Pippin...well, Pippin was... Pippin. He was so happy to be finished with books and that dreadful assigned night work! How many times did he have to write a 500 word essay for disrupting the group during the day, or not completing his assignments because he felt he did not need them? He lost count of how many times he stood in the corner for making silly faces at Merry. This graduation was payment, surely, for all of his suffering! While Pippin stood there wearing a great big smile, he chanted inwardly: “No more leadsticks, no more books, no more Tutor’s...” And yes, there was the pocket watch. It had belonged to his great-grandfather Hildigrim. That truly meant a lot to him--and that his Papa trusted him with such a treasure. He wondered if this was part of the responsibility they discussed a few days ago. Pippin bounced on the balls of his feet; he felt like he was thirteen going on twenty-three!

All of a sudden, the children were startled out of their respective reveries.

“I will now give out the certificates in order from bottom to the top of the group. Please save your applause until the last child receives their diploma, for each child you see standing here has worked very hard.” She smiled at Degger, a playful gleam in her eye. He would not be expecting this at all.

“Mr. Deggory Greenhill!”

Degger blushed crimson from head to toe, then walked up to receive his diploma and Hemlock Academy patch.

“Miss Pervinca Took!”

Vinca quietly walked up to her tutor, receiving her diploma and patch then nervously curtsied to Miss Hemlock. Then curtsied to the audience. Paladin had to surreptitiously point his finger toward her study mates to guide her back to the others.

“Mr. Peregrin Took!”

Pippin fairly bounced over to Miss Hemlock and accepted his diploma with a gold ribbon attached to it, and his patch. He was so excited about it all that he, too, needed a parental finger to point him back to his mates.

Finally thunderous applause erupted from the audience. The sound reverberated on the walls and ceiling, making it louder than it really was. But it was over at last! All three children danced in their own circle before being set upon by a barrage of family and friends alike.

However, Paladin and Eglantine remained sitting in their seats holding one another, admiring their small brood being hugged and patted by loved ones. In his hand he held a slightly battered parchment rolled up with a red ribbon. He whispered into his wife’s ear, “Shall we tell him?”

TBC

Chapter 9, Inside the Wooden Box

Pippin wandered the down the hallway alone away from the reception; the laughter of his friends, family, and the music of his sister’s fiddle remained inside the parlour while he moved away from it. The excitement of the graduation had faded, and the teen felt just as bad as he did last night and this morning. Pippin’s head felt heavy, his back ached, he felt weary, and heard a constant drone in his ears. His gait was slow, yet there was purpose in mind. He sought peace and quiet away from the clatter of the parlour.

Pippin turned left as he met up with his father’s study. Once inside, he looked round at the high shelves filled with books, the smell of leather chairs, his father’s empty pipe laying on its side next to the ash bowl on his father’s desk...a wooden box filled with parchments and papers sitting beside the ash bowl. Curious, Pippin made his way over to the box to have a look at it.

“What are you doing?” came a masked voice in the doorway.

Pippin startled, turning round. “I knew it was you!” he said to Merry who was grinning impishly.

“No you didn’t,” Merry replied then sat down in one of the chairs. “Why aren’t you in the parlour with everyone? Pearl was looking for you to play a duet with your fiddles.”

“I’m not in the mood to play my fiddle,” Pippin responded, still rifling through the paperwork. “It’s quiet in here.”

Yet another voice sounded from the entryway. “Since when has Peregrin Took taken a shine to tranquil environments?”

Pippin turned round again to find his other favourite cousin taking a seat beside Merry.

“Well, it’s not quiet anymore.” Pippin went back to rummaging through the wooden box.

Both Merry and Frodo raised their eyebrows in unison. Frodo studied the thirteen year old for a long minute. “Come here, Pip,” said Frodo, patting the space between him and Merry.

“I’m busy helping my papa,” replied the lad.

“Pippin...” Frodo used his authoritative tone. “You cannot help your father if you’re ill.” He then smiled at Pippin, “What sort of example are you setting for him, anyway?”

“I’m not,” said Pippin, becoming a bit agitated. There was so much to be done here, couldn’t they see that?

Presently, there came a couple more voices from out in the hallway then entered inside the study. Paladin, along with his cousin Adelard, stood near to his desk, a bit surprised at seeing what appeared to be three young hobbits taking their ease in his office. “What’s going on, lads? Is there something wrong?”

* * *

“What you see here is the gist of it,” said Addie, speaking to Frodo and Merry in the study. “What is outside of the box, we brought in from Ferumbras’ desk and Paladin’s main office this morning.”

Once Paladin felt Pippin’s forehead, he quickly carried his young son off to bed and then to call the healer who, luckily for him, was still minding Ferumbras across the main hallway. Eglantine soon joined her husband and together they took turns in caring for their ill son. While the new Took was occupied performing his parental duty, Adelard asked Frodo and Merry to stay behind in the study.

“I can’t believe that all of these Took births, deaths, and marriages all happened within the last ten years as you’re suggesting,” said Frodo. He reached inside the same wooden box Pippin had been digging through minutes before, flipping through leafs of paper. “Something is very wrong here.”

“So far, the earliest year I’ve noted is 1394,” said Addie. “If they go farther back than that, then we truly have our work cut out for us. I was so happy to hear you offer your assistance this morning, lads, but you know our cousin--he’s as stubborn, if not more so, than the rest of us Tooks.”

Merry grinned, “Or Bagginses!”

Frodo nudged his younger cousin, “Or Brandybucks.”

“I don’t wish for a crowd in here, if you understand me,” Adelard winked. “I know you lads have plenty of Took blood in you and will keep this quietly among ourselves, right?”

“We will,” said Frodo, “but we don’t wish to leave out our friends, such as Freddy, Degger, or your own sons. What will we do about them?”

Adelard smiled, “Leave that to me! I think Ferdibrand might like another visit from his nephew and niece. As for Degger, well, perhaps my lads or I can take him under our wing for a bit.”

“Good luck,” said Merry. “With Pippin being sick, I don’t think Degger will be persuaded to leave this tunnel, and I can’t blame him.” Frodo nodded his agreement.

“That is true--I’ll think of something,” said Adelard, making his way toward the door.

Frodo called after his departing cousin, “Merry and I do intent to break now and then to look in on Pippin.”

“Of course!” said Addie, “I’d be quite disappointed if you didn’t.”

* * *

Paladin had finished helping his son into his nightshirt and tucked him into bed when he took a minute to ask Pippin the burning question in his head. “Son, why didn’t you speak up and tell me or your mother that you weren’t feeling well?”

“I just thought it was me being tired,” Pippin answered in a weary voice. “I didn’t sleep well last night and so had a hard time waking up this morning. Once things for the ceremony started happening, I felt a bit better. But then after the reception began, suddenly I didn’t want to be around any noise. I guess I didn’t want to ruin the party for anyone else.”

Paladin sighed, pressing his lips together in regret. “I knew I should have called you inside the smial yesterday when I looked out the front window and saw you playing in the rain, but you looked as if you were having such a wonderful time. I saw you laughing from your heart,” he said as he gently brushed a few curls aside from Pippin’s forehead, “and I haven’t had the joy of hearing that much of late.”

“I’m glad you didn’t call me in,” said Pippin. “I was having a lot fun with my friends. But...I’m too tired to laugh right now, Papa. Are you going to sit with me a while?”

“Of course I am,” Paladin spoke softly. “Wild ponies couldn’t drag me away. Your momma will be here with the healer momentarily.”

* * *

Meanwhile, progress was being made in Paladin’s study. Three long lines of documents spanned the length of the gold mat, going in order from the most recent date all the way back to the earliest. The two cousins had a sort of rhythm to their movements as they laid out the certificates. As they neared each another, one would give way to the other without colliding, and yet manage to lay the document in its respective year-pile. It was much like a well-choreographed dance.

However, Merry began to feel that this business was just a bit too monotonous. He thought to stir things up a little. “I’ll wager that most of these certificates belong to Uncle Isembold,” he said, breaking the silence of the room.

Frodo looked up from his work and then to his younger cousin. “How do you know? I highly doubt it. I say that this is the culmination of a lazy branch of the Took family.”

Merry smiled inwardly; his scheme was working. He knew just how to goad his older cousin. Moreover, Merry felt he had the recent--and rare--occasion to learn a few things about the Took side of his family tree that he figured Frodo could not possibly know. Brandybucks taught young Brandybucks about the history of Brandybucks, from a Brandybuck’s standpoint, with some mention of Tooks or other great family trees of the Shire. Tooks did much of the same; teaching their younglings about Took history mixed in with a little of the same of the other noble families, but from a Took’s point of view. Having had the privilege of studying both sides of the families under his braces, Merry was able to afford a bit of fun with his rather sophisticated cousin.

“I’ll wager twopence that you’re wrong,” he said, moving toward the wooden box. “I don’t doubt that your last remark is true, however, I maintain that this entire lot belongs to Isembold.”

Frodo knew his young cousin since the day he was born and understood exactly what Merry was doing. Yet Frodo was game; he, too, felt the same tedium creeping into his bones. Frodo put his hand in his pocket to make sure he had enough money to pay for the wager should he lose--and playfully fingered another round, gold trinket as he carefully weighed his decision. Frodo nonchalantly walked over to the entryway, peeking into the hallway to ensure Cousin Tina wasn’t in earshot, then came back to Merry.

“All right,” he answered Merry, “and I’ll even sweeten the deal. I’ll add another twopence to the one who finishes first.” Frodo took another bunch of documents from out of the box. “Grab another handful, Merry-lad, and we shall see who is the quicker of us two.”

“Deal!” said Merry, taking more of the paperwork into his hands. The cousins measured the amount of documents each held by holding them close to each other and distributing the weight as equal as they could. There would be no cheating by giving more to one and lessen their chance of winning.

And off they went!

Up and down the respective lines they raced. Merry ran from one end to the other trying to find the year of birth, death, or marriage of a particular Took.

“Be careful, Merry--we don’t want to make more work than there really is,” warned Frodo. He saw out of the corner of his eye when Merry had placed a document in one particular pile and then take anther close at it, quickly placing it in the pile beside the first.

Frodo crossed between the lines of categories, his foot breezing past a couple of documents in its wake.

“Careful, cousin!” Merry taunted Frodo in return.

No longer was this the graceful dance of swans; it was every hobbit for himself. They knocked elbows, stepped on one another’s feet, and at one point, young Merry actually pushed Frodo out of his way in order to stay ahead of his cousin.

This went on for close to an hour, and as the mass of certificates lessened in each hand, the pace of furry feet picked up. The lads made quick work of the documents accumulated over the years. Merry had five documents left in his hands while he could see that Frodo was down to four. His eyes swiftly scanned the years of births until he found the correct pile. Now he was equal with Frodo again. Together, they hopped and skipped round piles until they each had one document left. Each lad crossed the lines...at the same time...and collided--hard.

Down they went. Frodo held his nose while Merry grunted, holding his arm. Slowly they each crawled the inches toward their goal.

“I win!” Frodo announced nasally--and breathing hard.

Merry flopped onto his back, still holding his arm. “That wasn’t fair! You purposely knock me down to enable yourself to be the winner.”

“You know better than that!” said Frodo. He now sat up, inspecting the exterior of his nose. “Besides, I may have won this round of the bet, but there is yet the other half you have a chance at winning.”

“Oh, no!” Merry whispered in horror. “Look what we’ve done!”

Frodo looked around where they each sat and grimaced. “Be very careful as you get up,” he said while doing the same. “We may be able to salvage this mess.”

The majority of the lines were still laid out neatly (for the most part), but the area of years where the cousins ran into each other and subsequently crawled in the final moments of the race, the documents were in disarray.

It took the next five minutes or so, but gradually the paperwork found its way back into the respective pile.

“Frodo?”

“Hmm?”

“How popular would you say your name is?”

“Not very,” Frodo replied. “I’m one of a kind,” he said, then smiled at his own witty remark.

“I think not!” laughed Merry. “Here is a Frodo Broadbean--son of Nick Broadbean and Juniper Took Broadbean of Little Delving.”

“At least his parents made sure he had the same sensible initials to his name as mine,” Frodo remarked in a flat tone. “F - B!”

“Well, considering that this young fellow came into the world fifty years before you,” Merry quipped, “I think it was you who had the same initials as he!”

“Let me see that!” Frodo snatched the birth certificate out of Merry’s hand then quickly cast it aside. “That was just a note for the record from the Broadbeans to the Tooks. At least I have a namesake!”

“He’s not your namesake!” Merry teased unrelentingly.

“What’s this?” Frodo was suddenly serious.

“What’s what?”

“This!” Frodo turned to his cousin, “How popular would you say the name Degger is? Or ought I say, ‘Deggory’?”

Merry shrugged. “I’ve not heard of it before. It’s just one of those names--unlike Frodo--that is given only once.”

“Not in this case, either, my friend,” said Frodo, reading the marriage certificate to Merry. “On this day, the 23^rd day of Rethe, 1340, S. R., Diggory Took, son of Isembold Took of Little Delving, joined in marriage with Rosa Brookstone, daughter of Fargo Brookstone of Tighfield. The marriage ceremony took place in Little Delving of the Westfarthing of the Shire.”

Merry said nothing at first, but the expression on his face said volumes. Regaining his composure, he asked, “How can that be? We found Degger in Michel Delving, not Little Delving.”

“I don’t know, Merry,” said Frodo, “but it appears there is more history in these papers than what meets the eyes. It seems you just might win that other bet. Let’s go show this to Paladin and see what he thinks. It’s time we go look in on Pippin anyway.”

Chapter 10, A Matter for Tooks

The warmth of the dimly lit room hit Frodo like a wall as he entered Pippin’s bedroom. The curtains were pulled shut and only one lantern was lit. In the hearth a fire crackled, and in the bedside chair staring blankly at the ill child lying under a thick quilt, sat Paladin.

“How is he?” Frodo asked in a soft voice so as not to disturb Pippin.

“The same,” Paladin replied absently. “He fell asleep right after Mistress Besom examined him and gave him his medicine.”

“Sleeping is good for him,” said Merry, who followed behind Frodo. He observed his young cousin lying fast asleep in his bed; his eyes, normally lit with a mischievous gleam, were closed in slumber. Merry hated it when his beloved cousin became so ill. How he wished he could take this dear one’s place.

“Yes, sleeping is good for him,” his uncle replied in a weary voice.

Frodo and Merry exchanged a concerned look. “He looks terrible,” Frodo whispered into Merry’s ear. He was referring more to his elder cousin, vice the ill child asleep in the bed. Paladin had dark circles under his eyes, lines of care woven into his brow. Frodo understood Paladin’s gaunt appearance was derived from exhaustion while trying to take in all of the recent changes in his life. The last thing Paladin needed was for his son to fall ill on the heels of his older cousin.

Merry nodded then whispered back, “Show him what we found--that might cheer him up.”

So, in hushed tones, Frodo related to Paladin their discovery about the documents they were setting in order in his study. Frodo handed over the certificate in question. For a long while Paladin sat with his green eyes fixed upon his ill son; no reaction forthcoming, apparently.

Frodo wondered at that. “What do you think, Cousin?” he asked in an attempt to glimpse Paladin’s thoughts on the subject.

Suddenly, Paladin stirred out of his reflections. He folded the important paper Frodo had given him, slipping it into his waistcoat pocket then stood to his feet. “Would you lads please mind Pippin for a bit? I need to...I need--I won’t go far. Tina will return soon, so it won’t be for long.”

“Of course we don’t mind, Cousin,” said Frodo. He and Merry watched at Paladin unbuttoned his waistcoat and then took it off, placing it over the back of the chair.

Once his uncle left the bedroom, Merry turned to Frodo, “Did you see what I just saw?”

Frodo answered in astonishment, “I did. I’ve never seen him so wretched.”

“I wonder what has got him so unravelled?” Merry asked. “I mean, besides that of Pippin.”

“I don’t know,” Frodo replied.

* * *

Paladin wandered the tunnels of Great Smials until he came upon familiar voices inside a particular room. The Common room is where Paladin would often find his cousins and friends exchanging the latest gossip while enjoying a mug and a pipe. Today, however, Paladin was seeking neither; he merely decided to walk off his anger rather than let it fester while he sat idly by watching over his ill son. Either I address the issue now, he thought to himself, or forever let it gnaw under my skin. He entered inside.

“Paladin!” said Adelard, obviously surprised to see his younger cousin. “How is Pippin?” Addie sat in one of the soft leather chairs with a few official-looking papers in his lap. Paladin recognised the artistic writing as Everard’s--probably a few of the lad’s practise documents from earlier in the day, as he was apprenticing under both his father and brother. Paladin noted several words circled in red ink, which Addie must have marked for his son’s training.

Addie regarded his friend’s dark mood as he quietly sat in a nearby chair. “Is all well with him? What happened to your waistcoat?” he asked. Gentlehobbits simply didn’t venture outside their house or hole without wearing his waistcoat

“Pippin is much the same as when you last saw him.” Paladin let the other question go unanswered--he didn’t feel like explaining that part of his odd behaviour earlier.

“Then something is bothering you?”

“Aye--and you know well what is bothering me.”

“Do I?” asked Addie.

Paladin cast a set of hard, weary eyes upon his friend.

“All right,” Addie confessed, “I’m guilty of asking the lads to help with the certificates without your knowledge, but that was for your own good.”

“Not only without my knowledge, Addie--but after I clearly remember turning down their offer this morning. You heard me--you were there. Frodo and Merry are my guests. They’re here on holiday.”

“You need help, Paladin. What’s the harm in allowing those who love you to help you along, eh? Or are you the rare type of hobbit who needs no help--you can do all things yourself or die trying?”

“I never said that,” replied Paladin. He looked about the room; fortunately it was fairly empty--even at this time of day. Even so, he’d keep his voice down.

Addie took Paladin’s cue and spoke in a low volume. “You imply it every day!” he argued, laying aside his son’s handiwork. “Cousin, this clutter took years to accumulate and it will not disappear overnight nor without help. Pippin isn’t the only one worried about you, Paladin. I worry about you, Tina worries, your daughters, nephew, and cousins alike are all concerned that you’re driving yourself into an early grave. I can see the strain in your eyes from where I sit. You think you can hide it, but you can’t.

“This morning you promised those lads you’d tell them as soon as you discovered you were in over your head with things as they are. Well, cousin, let me inform you that you are in over your head.” Adelard counted off the current roster with his fingers, “There is the daily management of the staff and meals, arranging the Thain’s private Yule party, you had this morning’s ceremony on your plate as well, the upcoming Yule holidays--the residents expect a Smials’ Yule party, you know--and I don’t think you’ve done any Yule shopping for your family. By the by, when was the last time you spent time alone with Tina? The lasses? Your son? It doesn’t have to be like that. We all know it wasn’t you who got the office in this condition, but we want to help you set it to rights so that you can get on with your tasks and your life.” Addie leaned in toward his cousin, “What are you afraid of?”

Paladin kept his eyes straight ahead, looking neither left nor right when a tear escaped the corner of one eye and slowly ran down his temple. He brushed it away.

“Of failing everybody,” Paladin finally whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “But if my own best friend cannot trust in my decisions--even the small ones, then who will?” Taking the handkerchief his cousin offered, Paladin wiped his nose and eyes.

“If I thought the matter was sensitive, or had need of secrecy, Paladin, I never--never would have asked those lads for their assistance. I apologise from the bottom of my heart for stepping where perhaps I wasn’t welcome,” Addie said with sincerity.

Paladin looked his friend in the eyes. “Addie, it’s not that I don’t need you, or welcome you. I’m just trying to find my own way in all of this, and when I learnt about...well, to be honest, I felt as if you didn’t trust me. That hurt me as much as if Tina didn’t trust me.”

Addie was quiet for a moment, as Paladin’s words affected him deeply. “If it is of any consolation,” he spoke softly in reply, “I have trusted you since the moment we met under this roof as young children. I trusted you the moment you walked through the Great Door back in Rethe and announced your arrival as the Thain’s new assistant, and I will trust you until I take my last breath.

“years ago, after little Pippin was born, I was so afraid that Cousin Lalia would actually arrange her son’s marriage in order to force him to sire an heir. When Ferumbras openly affirmed himself a permanent bachelor, I danced for joy. You can ask Reggie; if you were not going to be declared as the heir to the Took and Thain, I was prepared to remove my family to Waymeet where their mother was born and finish raising my children among her relations. I was not willing to endure yet another cold-hearted Took.”

Together the pair sat in silence for short while. “Well, I am glad that you didn’t leave,” Paladin said wearily, “It’s bad enough that one of us had to leave his childhood home behind.”

Relaxing again in his chair, Addie spoke compassionately. “I am glad that you are here now,” he said to his cousin. “I have lived here all of my life, and in spite of some pretentious inhabitants, I should hate to leave it.

Paladin did not forget Saradoc’s advice to him last spring. Being one of the foremost Tooks in Great Smials, Addie would be an excellent hobbit to read the collective temperament of the hobbits who dwelt here.

“You know all of the residents better than I do, Addie,” said Paladin, “so what is the general consensus about me?”

Addie took in a deep breath. “I can tell you with all honesty that the staff loves you. Sigmund, Adalbert, Brenard and their families may prove to be a bit of a challenge though. They’ve been raised to think a certain way and are set in it. What’s important is that your family loves you, I love you, my children love you. Let your heart be at ease, Paladin, because we will not let you fail.”

Paladin sat in his chair, rubbing his weary eyes. “Which brings me to my next question,” he said and then yawned.

“What is that?”

“Since you have attested your undying faith in me, and that you have lived here at the Smials all of your life and I have not--nor Tina, what would you say to being a counsellor, of sorts, to the Acting Took and Thain while he is adjusting to his new occupation and his new home?”

Adelard laughed at such a ridiculous notion. However, his laughter died away when he saw the solemn expression on his cousin’s face. “You’re serious!” he gasped.

“I may be a shrewd business-hobbit, but you are just as shrewd when it comes to dealing with Tooks--having lived here at the Smials for this long. I can do the task myself, of course, but you are right. I do have much on my plate at the moment, and I must admit that I am feeling overwhelmed.”

Adelard smiled, relieved that his dear friend finally admitted to feeling weighed down. However, he never suspected that he would be appointed as the one to aid. “Very well. I accept,” he said. “But on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“That once we go look in on your son you take your own nap. You are in dire need of sleep, my friend.”

* * *

“Mother?” Pervinca spoke softly as she approached her mother.

Eglantine stirred from her kip. “What is it, love?” she whispered.

Looking round the room, Eglantine saw she wasn’t the only one to nap right along with the young teen asleep in his bed. Frodo sat back against the soft, pillow of his chair, eyes closed, while Merry leaned against his cousin’s shoulder also dozing. Neither one moved when Pervinca entered the room.

Vinca whispered to her mother, “Mistress Lilly is collecting clothes for the laundress. She asked if Pippin had anything for cleaning.”

Eglantine gazed about, her hazel eyes catching a blue jumper that hung over the door handle of his wardrobe. “Take that jumper and look inside his wardrobe, Vinca,” she whispered in reply, “knowing your brother, there are probably two pairs of breeches in there that could walk out of this room by their own volition.”

Something else caught hold of Eglantine’s attention; an adult sized waistcoat lying over the back of Merry’s chair. The dimness of the room made it difficult to see clearly. “Now who’s is that?” she asked herself, laying aside the knitting in her lap.

Going over to stand in front of Merry, Eglantine then recognized the familiar brown waistcoat with black piping along the front edges and hoped the owner had not gone far. With the touch that only a mother can render, Eglantine gingerly lifted the article of clothing off the back of the chair without disturbing her slumbering nephew.

“Give this to Mistress Lilly as well,” said Eglantine to her daughter.

Seconds later, Pervinca re-entered Pippin’s bedroom. “Mother,” she said, speaking softly, “Mistress Lilly said to give you this--she found it in the pocket of Father’s waistcoat.”

Eglantine took the item from her daughter. She thought perhaps her husband might return for the bit of folded paper, so she placed it between the dimly lit lantern and the medicine tray on Pippin’s night table. Surely, he’ll see it right there.

* * *

All throughout the day and evening, Pippin would wake up to either his cousins or his mother sitting at his bedside. He was used to having someone sitting nearby whenever he was ill and he rather liked it. Having someone close by made Pippin feel secure--that nothing too terribly bad could happen to him.

He learned just before supper (six slices of toast and tea) that his papa had been napping in his own bed, and Pippin thought that was splendid--his father was finally settling down and taking a respite from all the recent upheaval. Mostly, though, Pippin slept the day away. Then sometime during the night he woke up to the sound of voices.

“What is it?” asked a male voice, speaking softly. The teen noted that the voice belonged to his father.

“It’s just a mixture of water, peppermint, and brandy,” said the second voice. Mistress Besom, Pippin guessed. He would instantly know his mother’s voice. “I would like for you to daub it all over your son--arms, legs, face, his back and middle. Unless Master Peregrin has caught something worse, this should help to break his fever, or at least cool him down a bit.”

Initially, Pippin complained that the water was too cold; he even tried wriggling out of his father’s grasp but that was of no use. Too weak to fight any more, Pippin lay in his bed and moaned miserably, his teeth chattering with the coldness of the medicinal water being applied to his body.

“It’s for your own good, my love,” Pippin heard his mother say, and then felt her kiss his feverish head.

When his father was finished, Pippin angrily cocooned himself within his blankets where there was warmth. However, Pippin subsequently woke up again...twice. Two times he had to change his night shirt due to their dampness. The second time, his father had to lend one of his own, but Pippin only remembered the big smiles on his mother and father’s faces. His fever had broken; their son had once again managed to defy the odds that haunted him since infancy.

When Pippin woke up the final time and opened his eyes, the dull glow of the wintry sun framed the edge of his curtains. His father sat in one of the beside chairs leaning over the mattress, his head resting upon his arm, and holding Pippin’s hand with his free arm.

Pippin felt spent--but at least he was dry. And he was hungry! He became fully awake when his tummy rumbled...loudly. He saw his father lift his weary head.

“G’morning, Papa,” Pippin whispered.

“Good morning, Pippin,” Paladin whispered in return. He rubbed his face and then yawned. “Are you hungry, son?”

“Aye,” said Pippin.

Pippin heard a rustling of clothes then spied his mother heading toward the door. “I’ll see to your breakfast, love--you shouldn’t have anything too heavy yet. How does tea and a scone with jam sound?”

Pippin’s answer came in form of a smile.

Paladin observed Pippin trying to sit up, but knew his son was still too weak to do so on his own. He got up from his chair, gently pulling Pippin up against his pillows, then kissed his son’s warm cheek.

“I will return in a bit--just as soon as I give the good news to your sisters and cousins,” said Paladin, “They are keeping vigil in the parlour.”

“All right,” said Pippin, “but come back soon.”

Pippin rested in his bed, while his father went to inform the others about his improvement during the night. He looked around, spying a folded piece of paper set between the lantern and medicine tray on his night stand.

Oh, look! Merry must have left me a get-well note! The young Took recalled his best friend doing this plenty of times before when he was ill, and it would cheer Pippin up greatly. He unfolded it, then realized it wasn’t his cousin’s handwriting at all. Instead, Pippin found himself reading the wedding announcement of Diggory Took of Little Delving and Rosa Brookstone of Tighfield.

Disappointed that the note wasn’t what he thought it was, Pippin refolded the bit of paper and rested against his soft pillows and closed his eyes. Oh, well. Merry would be here soon--and in person. After a moment of this tranquil thought, Pippin’s green eyes flew open.

Diggory...Took?!

TBC

Chapter 11, The Severed Branch of the Family Tree

It took a little while, but the confusion over the whereabouts of the wedding certificate was soon settled. The family at large sat down to second breakfast in the dining room, however, the younger lads took their plates to sit with Pippin in his bedroom and keep him company.

Pippin’s eyes became large when his friends entered with their plates heaping with eggs, bacon, mushrooms, and fried potatoes. Well, the bacon did smell delicious, but Pippin’s tummy didn’t quite crave it yet.

“What’s the matter, Pip?” asked Merry teasingly, “Would it be that my eggs are much more appealing than your scones and jam?”

“Scones and jam are fine,” answered Pippin defiantly, though his belly rumbled audibly. He knew his friends were about to have a jest with him.

“Or perhaps my mushrooms stuffed with cheese, melted and oozing with deliciousness?” Frodo goaded his youngest cousin by raising a forked mushroom then ate it.

Pippin licked his lips.

“I do believe that we ought to guard our plates, lads!” laughed Fredegar. “In his hungry state, Pippin is likely to jump out from under his blankets and attack our food.”

The lads all looked at Degger to see if the teen would put in his twopence. However, they really were not surprised to see teen-ager well underway eating his fried potatoes. In the final stage of his last growth spurt, Degger was seriously engaged in eating his breakfast.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Pippin asked sullenly, speaking round a mouthful of food. He folded his arms across his chest giving his most doleful expression.

Degger abruptly stopped eating as if suddenly aware of his surroundings. It didn’t take long for Degger to notice the cheerless expression on his young companion. Without a word, the lad got up to spoon a few potatoes onto Pippin’s plate beside the last scone.

“Degger!” Merry snickered. “You fell for Pippin’s ‘guilt’ face, didn’t you?” He sighed audibly with feigned disgust, “Oh, very well!”

Each in turn, the lads did likewise in giving Pippin something off of their plate. Pippin kindly turned down Freddie’s bacon, but he happily accepted Degger’s potatoes, a bit of Merry’s eggs, and a few of Frodo’s mushrooms.

“I’m feeling much better, thank you!” Pippin said with a broad smile, then ate a forkful of eggs. “Perhaps a wee bit of your apple juice, Freddie, in place of your offer of bacon.”

Fredegar gladly complied, then the conversation turned to more recent events.

“Papa wants to talk to us after breakfast,” said Pippin. “I suppose it has something to do with that marriage certificate I found on my night table this morning.”

Frodo and Merry looked at one another and winced. They had hoped that Pippin wouldn’t mention the certificate. Obviously, Pippin knew it for the mystery that it was and his comment was his way of seeking out any forthcoming information.

“What marriage certificate would that be, Pip?” laughed Freddie, unaware of the real news. “Frodo and Donnabelle’s?” He smirked, giving Frodo a conspiratorial wink, “I had heard how you and she danced the night away at Reggie’s Coming-of-Age party.”

“We did no such thing, Fredegar Bolger,” Frodo shot back, “and you’ll know what’s good for you if you don’t keep quiet. Or shall I mention a certain lass named Calendula Brownlock of Whitfurrows?”

Freddie blushed crimson, nervously clearing his throat before quietly resuming his breakfast.

Merry grinned mischievously at Fredegar. “And all this time you were teasing me, when I should have been teasing you!”

The topic of lass-friends didn’t deter the young Took’s curiosity. “I learnt earlier that you are not the only ‘Frodo’, cousin,” said Pippin, putting the conversation back on course.

Frodo sighed; it seemed Pippin would not be put off. Frodo knew exactly what Paladin wanted to discuss and did not wish to disclose anything beforehand that might upset anyone. He replied rather diplomatically, “I don’t think that any of our names are safe as our own, Pippin. I’ll wager that ‘Peregrin’ has seen a few turns around the Shire. Let’s not dwell on such things at breakfast, shall we?”

Everyone turned to the food at hand and made short work of what was left on their plates. Pippin, still weak from his bout with a fever and tummy full and comfortable from breakfast, soon nodded off to sleep.

A short while later, Frodo stood knocking upon the door of Paladin’s study.

“Come in,” Paladin called from across the room.

Hands in his pockets, Frodo casually walked inside the room, taking in the smell of leather, the rich decor of the Thain’s office. He had never been inside it before now. There were grand paintings that hung upon the walls illustrating the Tookland countryside, one of a hobbit closely resembling Ferumbras riding a pony over a bridleway in an unfamiliar meadow, another painting of a smiling Ferumbras standing in rough, tall grasses while wearing Golf attire and leaning upon his club, and finally, a large portrait of Ferumbras himself over the mantelpiece. Frodo shook his head at the elder cousin’s choice of art.

“Hullo, Paladin,” Frodo addressed the dark haired hobbit sitting behind the desk.

Paladin looked up from his reading and smiled. “Hullo, yourself. I take it that Pippin has fallen asleep?”

“You’ve guessed correctly,” answered Frodo, stopping at the chairs set in front of the immense desk made of well-polished walnut wood. “Having been through countless illnesses with Pip, you knew that he would be.”

“Aye,” admitted Paladin. “When his illness isn’t serious, such as this one, he is usually tired for a few days, but bounces back quickly enough. Have a seat, Frodo! I’m glad that you are here; we’ve hardly spent any significant time together since you arrived. I have a couple of tasks to do before I call our Took meeting to order--and Pippin usually naps for about an hour or so. Just enough time for me to accomplish my errands. Would you care to join me? I will give me a moment’s respite away from all of Ferumbras’ smiling faces.”

Frodo chuckled as the pair headed out of the Thain’s office to walk the distance toward the main kitchen.

“My first duties are to ensure today’s meals are run smoothly, look at the schedule for tomorrow’s meals and then go over the menu with Mr. Weaver, the overseer of the cooks and servers. He’ll tell me if anything important is amiss, such as a miscalculation of provisions or other unforeseen problems. I customarily take the short cut to his office through the kitchen to give it a brief inspection for cleanliness.”

Frodo nodded, admiring his cousin’s ingenuity. “You mentioned another task?”

“To decide this afternoon which male Took is to be Cousin Ferumbras’ first care giver for the next six months. I dare not make it longer, and three months is too short of time. If I did that, I would run the gamut of eligible Took males in less than six years.

“My first choices are Maynard, Cousin Fio’s son Liodrin, and Reggie. I will allow them to work out the choice of schedule they’d like, or else I can have them draw straws. I’d throw in the remaining names and more besides, but some are out on holiday with their families. It wouldn’t be fair to nominate those that are not present,” explained Paladin, “and for the same reason, it wouldn’t be fair for those spending Yule here at home to be elected overall before the others returned. However, as soon as the others come back, everyone is fair game.”

“I know for a fact that Reggie detests Cousin Ferumbras,” said Frodo, “But I also know that he will perform his duty regardless.”

“I know that as well,” said Paladin as they turned the corner of the tunnel.

Frodo knew that they would be approaching the kitchens soon, so he went forth with his thoughts on another matter. “Merry is right.”

“Pardon?” Paladin puzzled on his young cousin’s statement.

“Merry is right about the certificates mostly belonging to Isembold.”

“Ah.” Paladin now understood; the recollection of the lads’ wager coming to the forefront of his mind once again. “And how did you come to this conclusion?”

Frodo shrugged. “Merry thinks I know absolutely nothing about my Took ancestry--being a Baggins and all. Most of his Took knowledge comes from book-learning, and he forgets that Belladonna Took was Bilbo’s mother.”

Paladin smiled in understanding. “My father was rather quiet about family ‘business’, so to speak, but Uncle Isengar held nothing back. I suppose he and Aunt Belladonna were very indignant over Isembold’s plight--being pushed out of the family home.”

“And written out of Old Yellowskin,” added Frodo.

Paladin abruptly stopped his march toward the kitchen. He knew they were near to it as the clinking of pots and utensils emitted from another tunnel just ahead of them. He stopped here so that they could speak more freely and privately.

“So you know about Isembold and Betony putting the cart before the pony, eh?”

Frodo nodded, “I do. She was a kitchen servant no more than twenty-nine and he a well-bred gentlehobbit no more than thirty-two-and-a-half. I can’t remember exactly where they ended up after they were quietly swept out of the family tree, but I suspect we shall learn about that as we dig through the documents.”

“Little Delving,” answered Paladin.

Frodo nodded thoughtfully. “I understand that they were given a stipend every month,” he said.

“More so to keep them quiet,” Paladin replied. This bantering would be amusing if it wasn’t for the disgrace this long-ago young couple most likely endured.

“Yes, well any hobbit who knows his or her sums can calculate marriage dates against birth dates,” said Frodo.

“Not if it’s written over,” replied Paladin.

Both looked at one another with a gleam in their eyes.

“I’ll make this meeting quick if you run and gather the lads in my study,” said Paladin, exceedingly eager to start delving through the rich history that lay in heaps on the floor of his study. Paladin loved history--especially family history, and he knew Pippin did, too. “By the time I return,” he added, “hopefully Pippin will be awake.”

* * *

“Pippin’s been up and is now back to sleep,” announced Merry as his uncle walked through the study door. His young cousin lay curled on the couch beside him, eyes closed, and buried in blankets.

“I’m awake,” said a muffled voice, throwing off the blankets.

“I’m sorry, lads,” said Paladin, unbuttoning his jacket, “Mr. Weaver wanted to discuss the provisions for the Smials Yule party and I couldn’t argue against it because it’s not far off. Get back under the covers, Pippin, or to bed you shall go. What is that you have in your hands?”

“Nothing.”

“Let’s see what sort of nothing you have,” said Paladin. He reached down toward his son and took the bits of paper. Seeing that they were the documents in question, Paladin glimpsed out of the corner of his eye that the other lads shared guilty looks.

“He wanted to see the birth certificate with my name on it,” said Frodo. “He has the marriage certificate, too.”

“I have yet to come across a document with ‘Peregrin’ on it,” Pippin said a bit smugly.

Paladin sighed, lads will be lads. At least no real harm was done. He noted Degger sitting beside Fredegar on the other couch in conversation, which only meant that he most likely hadn’t read the document...yet.

He sat down beside his son then explained to the group about Merry and Frodo’s discovery the day before, then the subsequent exchange that took place in the tunnel between him and Frodo earlier.

“I read that Isembold merely wanted to seek his own fortune away from the influence of the Tooks,” said Merry. “But I have long known that he moved away from Great Smials in his youth.”

“Looks more like he was kicked out--and all over a silly lass!” said Pippin, disgust written all over his face. It was well-known that for the thirteen-year-old, his favourite lass was a lass as far away from him as possible--excluding his mother and sisters, of course.

“I think there is a valuable lesson in all of this with impropriety during courtship, Pippin,” Paladin cautioned is young son and anyone else in the room listening.

“Yes,” Frodo put in, “now we have a host of cousins that we have never met, and may never meet. There is also something to be said for an angry moment that lasts a lifetime.”

“Agreed,” said Paladin.

Pippin looked round the room at the various faces. “Well, where do we start?”

“At the beginning, of course,” Paladin answered his son. “Freddie, when are you due to leave?” The last Paladin knew was that Fredegar and his sister were supposed to leave this morning.

“I sent a message by Quick Post yesterday to my family that our departure would be delayed until we were sure Pippin would be all right. I suppose Stella and I could leave first thing in the morning--but not later. It’s a two day drive home, and my dad wants to be at his sister’s house by Mersday. She lives in Oatbarton.”

“Yes, you ought to leave as soon as possible,” said Paladin, “but I know Pippin has so enjoyed having you here--and so have I.”

Pippin became downhearted, “I guess that means Merry has to leave tomorrow, too.”

“Not at all, Pip,” said Merry, tousling his cousin’s curls. “That’s the other part of the surprise--I’m staying through to Yule.”

Pippin brightened immensely. “Splendid! Let’s get started!”

TBC

A/N: My deepest apologies for not updating for so long!  First it was another tale I had a deadline for, which shouldn't have been too bad, but then RL knocked me for a couple of loops last weekend which also knocked me out of character.  I'm back now and I promise to update regularly. :-)

Chapter 12, Nothing Like Family

The sorting of certificates of births, marriages, and deaths went on steadily into the afternoon. Paladin left the lads to their onerous task in order to conduct one of his own. He had an appointment in the Took and Thain’s office with Liodrin, Maynard, and Reginard Took. Only Liodrin was still in his tweens, however, the other two who were of Age were yet bachelors.

In the end, Maynard drew the short straw. Both Reggie and Lio offered to take Maynard’s place, but Paladin would not relent. He reasoned that fair is fair, and that Maynard was actually the more practical choice. Lio would have been Paladin’s second choice, as his father and brothers were glassmakers by trade and recently opened a shop in Tuckborough. Lio could be spared from his father’s shop for the short period required without hurting the family business. On the other hand, Reggie and his father were professional Scribes with Everard apprenticing, and were commissioned with writing out Yule party invitations and Yule greetings for many folk round the area. Maynard was not happy with his plight and said as much to Paladin.

“This is ridiculous!” Maynard fumed at who he considered to be conspirators. “This is a job for servants.”

“The draw was conducted fairly, Maynard,” replied Paladin. “And this is not a job for servants--they have their own families to take care of. Ridiculous as you may think this seems, there is someone in this family who requires constant care, and members of this family will see to him getting it. There might be a brief period of time when we may have to hire a caregiver from without, but as long as we have strong, young bachelors at hand we will take care of our own.”

And this was only the beginning of let downs that Paladin felt weighing upon his shoulders. Today was the day the first of Ferumbras’ party guests were to arrive at Great Smials. None had shown up yet although it was still early in the day. Ferumbras would either “ask” about them, or Paladin would have to give the ill Thain the despairing news. It was with this cloud of gloom hanging over his head that Paladin entered Ferumbras’ bedchamber.

“Good afternoon, Cousin,” Paladin greeted the Thain. Ferumbras lay underneath his blankets staring at the wall. Paladin sat down in the bedside chair and spoke on. “Mistress Besom has told me to keep this meeting brief--and I will. However, I do have a good report as for your new attendant.” Paladin waited for the Thain to turn his face toward him, but he didn’t. Ferumbras kept his eyes fixed upon the wall.

“Maynard has been chosen to be the first caregiver,” said Paladin, “and I have reason to believe Liodrin will succeed him after six months.”

Still no reaction from Ferumbras. Mistress Besom mentioned that the Thain wasn’t quite himself. More like, depressed, was the word that came to Paladin’s mind.

“I discovered a small wooden box underneath your desk,” Paladin commented. This seemed to get a reaction, for Ferumbras now turned his head toward his younger cousin.

“You know of this?” asked Paladin.

Ferumbras gawped at his cousin, but made no attempt to speak. Paladin came to the conclusion that the Ferumbras felt too embarrassed to utter any sound.

“It was full of marriage documents, birth certificates and the like. All belonging to Uncle Isembold’s family. I know that you know what happened to him and under what condition he left Great Smials long ago. I don’t know what instructions you were given with regard to the box and its contents, but I intend to go through it and learn who our long-lost cousins are. I also intend to make amends--to reconcile our families. As Acting Took, I left my son, Pippin, who is heir to the same title, in charge of reconstructing Isembold’s family tree by using the documents available and then writing the names in our uncle’s own family yearbook. Pippin has the assistance of his dearest friends who also have Took blood running through their veins.

As an afterthought Paladin added, “I need to find out who the chief of their branch of the family is so that I can discuss any future entries into Old Yellowskin--and to invite them back into the family fold and return to Great Smials.”

Ferumbras’ eyes widened, although Paladin couldn’t tell if it was over excitement or shock. He considered it more the latter.

“My mind is made up on the matter, Ferumbras.”

Now he came to the issue he dreaded. “Before I take my leave, I should tell you that your party guests have not yet arrived. As soon as they do, both Tina and I will ensure they are shown to your room to greet you.”

Suddenly, an idea came to Paladin. He went over to Ferumbras’ desk and used the quill and ink jar to write out two words: Yes and No. Miss Besom did mention that he could slowly move his left arm.

He showed the paper to Ferumbras and explained the idea. “Are you still intent on having a Yule party?”

Ferumbras lifted his left arm and pointed to “No”.

Delighted that his invention worked, Paladin went forward. “Do you wish the company of your guests as they arrive?”

This time Ferumbras pointed to “Yes”.

Paladin kept his facial expression in check; he only hoped that his cousin’s snobbish companions would have enough heart to visit their ill friend. For the first time in ages Paladin actually felt pity for his cousin.

* * *

“Come here, Merry,” Pippin yelled across the room to his dearest friend.

“I was just there!” Merry answered.

“Well, come here, again!” said Pippin absently, shuffling a few papers in his hand.

“You’ll just have to be patient,” Merry snapped.

“Merry! I need you here now!”

“Pippin, Merry is looking for the information you asked him for just two minutes ago,” said Frodo jumping to the young Brandybuck’s defence. “What do you want him for now?”

“I wish to tell him something,” Pippin answered his elder cousin a bit arrogantly.

Frodo put down the handful of papers he held. He casually approached the bossy little Took with Fredegar and Merry following in support. Degger knew the lads were about to recompense Pippin for his affront so he remained sitting where he was to stay out of trouble.

Hands in his pockets, Frodo said with a wry grin, “I wonder if Cousin Paladin knows what kind of diminutive tyrant he left in charge.”

“Wait! Iiieeee!!” Poor Pippin never had a chance. The three older lads pinned the teen-ager down upon said pillows to mercilessly tickle him. In the midst of this laughing and tickling Paladin entered the study.

“What is going on?” he asked.

“Help me, Papa!” pleaded Pippin, then promptly pinched Merry’s leg.

Frodo stopped tickling the lad to explain things to his older cousin.

“Pippin,” Paladin sighed, “I think you got a bit carried away.”

Pippin glared at the snickering lads. “I thought you wanted me to run things,” he said while straightening out the wrinkles in his dressing gown.

Paladin smiled a little; at least his thirteen year old was taking his duties seriously. Maybe a little too seriously, but seriously nonetheless. “I did want you to take responsibility for the general process, but if you listened to what else I was saying, you would have gleaned that I wanted you all to work together. A good leader listens to what his friends are telling him--doesn’t mean you must comply, but at least listen. That is a lesson I recently learned the hard way and I am passing it on to you as your first lesson in being Took and Thain.”

“Well said, cousin,” said Frodo.

“Now what did you have to say to Merry?” Paladin asked his son.

“That I thought I found Griggory’s marriage certificate, but it turned out to be Diggory’s--we put his back in its proper pile of papers so that it wouldn’t get lost.”

Baffled, Paladin asked further, “Who is Griggory?”

“As far as we know, Isembold had eleven children, only two of them sons,” said Pippin, “Griggory was the oldest and Diggory the youngest.”

“Ye won’t find Mr. Griggory’s marriage certificate,” said a voice from the back of the room. “Just b’fore Mr. Paladin came in, I found this,” Degger walked over to the group holding out a slip of paper. “Mr. Griggory died when he was but sixteen.”

The group of lads went silent.

“Sixteen?” Paladin asked quietly. “I wonder how that happened.”

“So that leaves Diggory as Isembold’s only heir,” said Merry.

“The more I read these small testaments, the more I want to discover about our lost uncle and his family,” said Frodo.

“As do I,” said Paladin, as sentiments of the same echoed throughout the group. “Well,” he continued, “with the Yuletide approaching, all we can do for now is put this fractured bit of family back together again and then write it all down as we get the time. I will think of a plan for after Yule, but I can think of no other alternative than to drive to Little Delving myself to learn of our cousins’ whereabouts and who their chief member is.”

“Little Delving must be full of Tooks,” said Merry.

Paladin answered, “Yes, but full or no, I feel it is my duty to find them.”

“Will we go in Afteryule?” asked Pippin, a wee bit excited to go travelling round the Shire.

“We’ll have to wait and see, Pip,” his father replied, “We still have a lot to do yet with these documents and then a lot more planning thereafter.”

“Don’t worry, Pippin,” said Merry, “I’ll help you with all of this while you’re still recuperating, but as soon as you’re able to get up and run about, we’re going to have a jolly time because I don’t know when my next visit will be.”

“I’ll help, too, Mr. Pippin,” said Degger. “Doin’ this kind o’ makes me want t’ learn ’bout my Greenhill family.”

“You don’t know anything about your family, Degger?” asked Fredegar.

Degger shook his head sadly then explained. “Only that my dad was an only child, an’ he had no family to speak of nearby.” The lad next spoke as if something else suddenly occurred to him. “I do have one mem’ry of a lady...she wasn’t my mum, and smiled a lot, but that’s all. I don’t know if she was kin t’ my mum or my dad.”

Fredegar was genuinely surprised that Degger had so little knowledge of his family’s background in spite of the fact that the lad was an orphan. Freddie thought that all children asked about their heritage at one time or another. “Nothing about your mum, either?” he asked. Again, Degger shook his head.

If Paladin wasn’t watching the lad closely, he might have missed the tears that glistened in the teen’s eyes.

“Lads, I think it’s time for Pippin to go rest a bit in his bed,” said Paladin to Merry and Freddie. “Would you be so kind as to help him there? I wish to speak to Frodo and Degger alone for a moment.”

Pippin wanted to argue the point--after all, didn’t they all just agree that there was much to do yet? Then again, Pippin sensed something more was going on inside his father’s head and decided against it. Without a word Pippin rose from his seat on the couch, took his leave by kissing his father’s cheek then walked out with his friends by his side.

Paladin and Frodo shared a meaningful glance and then Paladin quietly left the room.

Degger sat dolefully upon the couch where Pippin had sat. He looked up when he heard the door shut a second time; he and Frodo were alone in the study.

“Freddie wasn’t trying to be mean when he asked you about knowing your parents, Degger,” said Frodo, starting the conversation. “He’s young yet and takes it for granted that all children are raised by their parents. We both know that isn’t necessarily so.”

Degger looked into the depths of those blue eyes and for the first time saw much of the same heartache and pain as he himself felt on many occasion. “I miss’em so much it hurts,” Degger whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “An’ I miss my brother.” Fighting the tears, he wiped away one that ran down his cheek.

Frodo handed the lad his pocket handkerchief and said tenderly, “It’s all right to cry, Degger.” He put his arm round the slight shoulders of the teen-ager to hearten him. “Every once in a great while I still cry when I feel the pain of losing my parents. I’ll always miss my mother and father, as I am sure you will always miss yours. You were quite young when your parents passed away, were you not?”

Degger nodded then sniffled, “Did Mr. Paladin take ye in, too?”

Frodo smiled. “No, not in this instance. I lived at Brandy Hall in Buckland at the time; Cousin Paladin lived all the way over here in the Westfarthing in Whitwell. There was a Baggins cousin who lived Hobbiton--whom I affectionately refer to as my Uncle Bilbo. It was he who took me in after I lived with my Uncle Rory for a bit.”

“Did ye ever get lonely?”

“Many times,” answered Frodo. “Even though I had plenty of aunts, uncles, and cousins about to keep me company, I was very lonely. However, there was one little cousin who had captured my heart the day he was born and I love him dearly to his day. But I felt there were too many reminders of my former life at Brandy Hall for me to stay there. And so I went to live with Uncle Bilbo in Hobbiton.”

“Who was the little cousin that captured yer heart?”

Frodo smiled a sincere smile. “Why, Merry, of course! Pippin wouldn’t be born for another year or so.”

“I like Mr. Merry, too,” said Degger. “He tutored me all summer so I’d graduate with my study group. An’ it was b’cause o’ him that Mr. Paladin found me in that dark alley starvin’ an all. I almost didn’t go with him.”

It didn’t escape Frodo how swiftly Degger took the conversation away from his parents and into a different direction. “Weren’t you frightened?”

Degger frowned, “I s’ppose so, but I was more scared o’ leaving than o’ stayin’.”

Frodo mused on his young friend’s remark. “Really? What made you decide to finally leave?”

Degger shrugged. “I don’t know.”

_{“The more I read these small testaments, the more I want to discover about our lost uncle and his family,” said Frodo.} 

_{“As do I,” said Paladin, as sentiments of the same echoed throughout the group. “Well,” he continued, “with the Yuletide approaching, all we can do for now is put this fractured bit of family back together again and then write it all down as we get the time. I will think of a plan for after Yule, but I can think of no other alternative than to drive to Little Delving myself to learn of our cousins’ whereabouts and who their chief member is.” - Chapter 12}

Chapter 13, Journey to Little Delving

Yuletide came and went as did Afteryule...and Solmath. It was during this period of time that Pippin and Degger sorted through all the certificates, put them in order, and wrote down the names into Isembold’s own family yearbook until his family “caught up” with the rest of the Tooks. From then on, Isembold's descendants would be written into Old Yellowskin along with every other Took who made an effort to send in their family status via the Post. Sadly, Pippin found that there weren’t many Isembold descendents who made that effort after year 1330, and even less after year 1346. After 1370, they virtually stopped. Pippin wrote down his observations and gave them to his father.

The journey to Little Delving had been all but forgotten; in fact, Pippin felt it his duty to remind his father at least once a week about the forthcoming trip. Unfortunately, the many duties of being Acting Took and Thain often got in the way of Paladin’s plans.

For one thing, Maynard Took, the current Thain’s caregiver and general minder, apparently needed minding himself. Paladin had made an unscheduled visit during Afteryule and discovered that Cousin Ferumbras’ bedchamber contained a foul odour, and that his bedclothes hadn’t been changed since Paladin’s last scheduled visit. After castigating the younger cousin about the needs of the infirm, Paladin threatened to give Maynard the sack if he found the Thain in such a state ever again during the young hobbit’s tenure--and promised Maynard that dismissal would be far worse than if he had put forth an honest effort and remained the Thain’s caregiver. Thus, Paladin hesitated to go on an extended trip without first ensuring everything was in order.

The second issue was the weather. True, winter was over and now officially spring, however, the air was still a bit cold. Knowing well that Pippin wanted to come along, Paladin did not wish to subject his son--nor Degger--to the chill environment, despite riding in a carriage.

Paladin knew it was inevitable that if Pippin came along, then Degger would, too. While Merry would always be Pippin’s best friend and favourite cousin, Paladin delightfully observed as Pippin and Degger formed a close friendship of their own this past year.

Presently, in the last days of Rethe, Paladin sat in his office musing on the relationship of the lads; how they seemed to watch over one another. Normally it was Pippin who kept his eye on Degger, ensuring no one took advantage of the inexperienced lad. However, something had reached Paladin’s ears that didn’t necessarily surprise him, yet he wanted Degger to understand that he couldn’t help Pippin with certain things--at least, not in this stage of Pippin’s life.

Hearing soft footfalls in the hallway Paladin looked up, seeing the familiar face of a near-tweenager in the doorway. The lad lifted his hand to knock upon the open door, however Paladin interceded. “Come inside, Degger,” he said.

“Ye asked for me, sir?” asked the lad, standing before the large desk polished to a high gloss.

“Sit, please,” said Paladin, pointing to one of the chairs set before the desk.

“I received word that you were helping Pippin clean his room. Did I hear correctly?”

Degger gazed uncomfortably at his hands in his lap. “Aye, sir. But I only helped him with his toy chest.”

Paladin spoke gently to the industrious lad. “Degger, when Pippin is thirty years old are you still going to make his bed and fold his clothes for him?”

“If he asked me t’.”

“He wouldn’t dare!” Paladin said while chuckling, “And while he remains under my care, he will not. Degger, Pippin must learn that he alone is responsible for the upkeep of his room and no one else. Tina and I told our children that the day we moved in here. The child simply detests cleaning his room. When we lived in the farm smial he performed all sorts of tasks--raked the stalls, fed the animals, chopped wood for his mother’s cooker, or he’d even come out to the fields with me to learn ploughing. He no longer has to do all of that, yet he refuses to keep his room tidy. I don’t understand him sometimes.”

Degger replied eagerly, “Mr. Pippin told me a messy room is really the sign o’ intelligence.”

Paladin burst out laughing. “I don’t doubt Pippin’s intelligence in the least or that he is aware of the fact that he is clever--too much for his own good at times. However, I do doubt his claim that it is the reason for his untidiness. When I saw the amount of books he lugged out of his room that belonged to the library, I should say that the reason for his dishevelled room is slothfulness. The only cleverness about the entire deal is the excuses he gives for putting it off. But no more; I suppose confinement to his room will help him understand that I mean business when I tell him to keep his room in order. And you must not assist him, all right, Degger?” Degger nodded.

“Now--there is another reason as to why I asked you here, Degger, besides that of lecturing you,” said Paladin. “To further protect you from Pippin’s lure I have a few errands for you to run for me, if you please.”

“O’ course, sir.”

“Please go to the Thain’s apartment and tell Maynard that I will arrive at my appointed time tomorrow. He already knows that I have my weekly meeting with Cousin Ferumbras tomorrow, but I am sending you now because I want you to return to me and let me know if anything is amiss.”

Confused with this odd request, Degger asked, “Sir?”

“I’ll explain another time,” said Paladin, “but for now just let me know if you smell an odour.”

“Ye don’t think Mr. Maynard is carin’ for the Thain properly?”

“Very astute on your part, Degger, but frankly, no. Although I have yet to catch him in the act again, so to speak, I am trying to keep him honest. Also, here are a couple of notes for you to deliver to Mr. Weaver and to Mistress May. There are two special days of celebration coming up and I want them to be able to plan ahead. And if you time your visit to Mistress May just right, you might make it to the kitchen just as she is cooling her first batch of biscuits. There now--doing those few tasks ought to keep you occupied for a bit an out of Pippin’s grasp.”

Degger grinned happily, knowing those special days were his and Pippin’s birthdays, just one week apart. “Aye, sir!” He stopped just before exiting the doorway, “May I bring some biscuits back for Mr. Pippin, sir?”

“Yes, you may,” said Paladin, leaning back in his chair and smiling. “He may be confined to his room at the moment, but I don’t have any plans for starving the poor lad. Oh! One last thing--when you take Pip his biscuits, you can also tell him that we shall make that trip to Little Delving two days hence. Everything has been arranged.”

“Aye, sir!”

Degger left Paladin’s office with a spring in his step; not only were there to be parties for both his and Mr. Pippin’s birthdays, but the work on the documents they had been doing for the past couple of months was finally going to pay off. Degger thought perhaps on the return trip, Mr. Paladin would stop in Michel Delving and let him visit Heather and nose about for any lingering Greenhill relatives.

* * *

Three days later...

Pippin very audibly sniffed in the fresh air as he and Degger carried out their luggage for the journey to Little Delving. “Ah! I can’t remember when I last smelt air this fresh! I suppose there is something to be said for being locked in prison,” Pippin said with a knowing look, “It’s something that makes one appreciate the scent of a crisp, spring breeze.”

Degger grinned. “Ye act as if you were locked away in a dungeon for ages! Yer dad only confined ye t’ yer room for the time it took ye t’ clean it. It’s not his fault that it took ye three days t’ do it!”

Pippin replied sarcastically, “Well, it took me all of the first day to figure out where to begin, and when I started finding more and more of my lost marbles, I had to take the time to polish them and ensure I hadn’t lost my edge on shooting. I also had to ensure my wooden soldiers were still capable of fighting off dragons or treacherous Goblins.  Between you and me, it wouldn't have taken nearly that long if the sun had been shining.”

Paladin came up behind the lads hauling his own luggage. “I figured as much.  But what I’d like to hear is your excuse about the four pairs of breeches rolled up into a ball in the bottom of your wardrobe.”

“Those were my favourites,” Pippin simply stated.

Paladin rolled his eyes and shook his head, “You’ll never wear those breeches again, Pip--you’ve out-grown them.”

“Good worn breeches are like best friends,” said Pippin, taking his father’s bag and shoving under the seat of the carriage with his and Degger’s. “I just couldn’t part with them.”

Having placed the hampers filled with apples, bread, cheeses and other finger foods onto the carriage--and after Paladin kissed his wife and daughters goodbye--the threesome were soon riding the lane toward Tookbank.

Two days of riding, stopping, eating, and sleeping, the threesome arrived at their destination just before suppertime, passing the sign that welcomed visitors to Little Delving. The route they took sent them through Michel Delving, but they didn’t stop; they planned to visit Heather and Mrs. Bunce on the return trip. Paladin paid for a room at the local inn for the night; better for them to plan their approach for the following morning, having no idea what sort of welcome they’d receive. The only thing about the trip that had not been “arranged” was the meeting of long lost relatives--relatives that had to know that they had been written out of the Will, as it were.

In the morning, after a few inquiries, Paladin and the lads discovered that Isembold’s descendants lived on the north west end of the village. They rode the main thoroughfare until they took a lane veering off to the left. As soon as they passed a group of trees that lined the front garden like sentinels they noted a sign hand-painted with purple on a white field, “Ivy-Bellflower”, then saw what appeared to be the front part of a large house in the distance. Pippin took in the sight of the enormous house, the garden, the paddock, the fields off to their right that would grow the crops this season.

The main house, as Pippin would come to refer to it, had two levels with several wings that appeared to have been built into it from the back. So Pippin’s view of those wings was fairly limited; he could only dream of how deep and vast they were behind the house. The front garden, Pippin could tell, would become beautiful once the dormant grass once again turned green and filled with spring flora. Four draught ponies were held in the paddock, and to his right Pippin saw a broken plough set off to the side of the nearest field--half ploughed. Being the young farmer that he was, Pippin could immediately see that the damage to the plough was irreparable, as the moulderboard had been bent.

Turning his face back toward the main house, Pippin could now see three hobbits on the front porch sitting in rocking chairs and smoking their pipes. Pippin felt his father bring the carriage to a halt when they came level to the porch. He and Degger followed Paladin out of the carriage seat to stand upon the soft earth.

“Good morning, sirs,” Paladin addressed the group of possible cousins.

“G’mornin’,” they said in return, continuing to puff smoke from their mouths.

Paladin introduced himself and the lads. “We’ve travelled all the way from Great Smials in Tuckborough. Might we ask some questions, if you please?”

“Aye,” the healthier of the three spoke slowly, observing the strangers judiciously as they walked up the path. “All the way from Great Smials, ye say?”

“Aye,” replied Paladin. At a closer look, he guessed these hobbits to be around his age. Paladin watched the thinnest fellow get up from his rocking chair to disappear inside the front door then return seconds later with a solid chair without rocker arms.

Setting the chair to the side facing the group, the hobbit indicated for Paladin to sit. “Real name’s Stan, but everyone calls me Stick,” said the thin hobbit. “We’re all cousins,” he added, nodding toward the others, “That’s Rick, (pointing toward the healthiest hobbit), and this is our cousin Nick.”

Pippin and Degger settled on the edge of the porch which was raised just a few inches from the ground, then burst out laughing. “Rick, Nick, and Sti--,” Pippin started to say while snickering, then saw his father’s reddened face. “Sorry,” they said, realising their blunder.

“My apologies for the lads’ outburst,” Paladin offered in recompense.

The three cousins snickered as well, “Don’t be sorry--the lads got the right o’ it!” said Nick, smiling. “We’ve always been mates. When we were no older than your lads and Stan was always eating but never puttin’ it anywhere, we decided to call him Stick.”

Paladin smiled; the tension in his neck alleviated with these good humoured cousins. He only hoped that the rest of this branch of the family held no ill will toward their distant cousins at Great Smials.

“What sort of questions did ye have in mind?” asked Rick, now obviously the leader of the group.

Paladin felt a chill breeze blow under the veranda. “Well,” he began, puling his cloak tighter round him, “we made this long journey for many reasons, but the foremost is to find our long lost cousins. I have reason to believe that you, Nick, and Sta--, er, I mean, Stick are just a few of them. You are descendants of Isembold Took, are you not?”

“We are,” Rick answered, “Through our mothers.”

Paladin chose his next words carefully. “I suppose you can say that we’re a delegation of sorts. We’re Tooks from Great Smials here to extend our hand in friendship--to reunite our families, if possible.” For a long moment Paladin couldn’t read Rick’s expression. At length, the hobbit moved.

Rick emptied his pipe into the ash bowl on the porch. “Care t’ come inside for a cup o’ tea? A warm hearth and hot tea are better for gettin’ acquainted.”

TBC

_{A/N: Well...what let’s just say I won’t be making any more promises about when I update! I hate it when I’m as late as this with updating a story. What’s the excuse this time? I’ve been on a strict diet of Ibuprofen for the past ten days for dental work gone bad. I can barely *read* a story, let alone write one that I’m trying to tell when my tooth/jaw is throbbing. I hope the reader finds it in his/her heart to bear with me just a little while longer. I was going to update with two chapters as a guilt-offering for making the reader wait for so long, but the 800mg I took an hour ago is starting to take effect and I’m getting a bit sleepy. Look for another update tomorrow or Monday. I am making no promises, though}. ;-)

Chapter 14, Lost and Found

_{Rick emptied his pipe into the ash bowl on the porch. “Care t’ come inside for a cup o’ tea? A warm hearth and hot tea are better for gettin’ acquainted.” - Chapter 13}

Although the weather had stayed nice throughout their journey, the wind began to turn cold again. Paladin nodded to Rick, “That would be splendid, thank you!” Hot tea would be a welcomed warmth for Pippin, as Paladin often blamed the cold and moist weather for Pippin’s illnesses.

Paladin, Pippin, and Degger trailed the three cousins inside the house. Rather than an enormous foyer that would befit a house of this size, Paladin and the lads stood inside a small entry that opened to a simple parlour. Judging by the exterior of the house, Paladin thought for certain that these hobbits were fairly well-off, however, nothing of the interior chattel necessarily proved that theory. Nothing was overly ornate inside the parlour, nor was it worn or tattered. Any forethought that Paladin had of this family or their home was gone. He didn’t know what to think; would they indeed be indignant toward Tooks from Great Smials, or would these seeming unpretentious hobbits welcome them? Paladin could not send a letter ahead of their visit because he had no idea where these Tooks lived in Little Delving, nor to whom he should write.

Rick stepped away from the group while they settled into chairs or on the couch. Moments later he returned with several matrons on his heels. He introduced them all as his wife, Lilly, Nick’s wife, Sada, Stan’s wife, Flora, and Rick’s sister, Rosemary.

“Lilly and my sister are goin’ t’ bring us some tea, bread and cheese--a little something t’ hold us over til elevenses.”

“Sounds lovely,” said Paladin, offering a smile, albeit an uneasy one, still unsure of how Rick had taken his earlier proposal to reunite the Tooks of Great Smials and the descendents of Isembold Took.

“We knew somebody would eventually come knockin’ on our door,” said Rick, as he sat in his chair and refilled his pipe. As he puffed on the embers, he stole a few glances toward one of his younger guests. He noted that there was something strangely familiar about the older lad, but he kept his suspicions to himself. “Didn’t know when they’d come knockin’, but we knew it would happen,” he said aloud.

“We didn’t begrudge them, mind,” Nick explained, “but we just never understood why our relations in Great Smials wanted nothin’ t’ do with us.”

“Well, we had our guesses,” Stan added, “and they boiled down t’ two thin’s; money an’ position. We may be simple, but we aren’t simple-minded--every one o’ us is lettered. We may not sound like scholars such as them back in Tuckborough, but the children of Isembold know a thin’ or two about the nature o’ Tooks.”

Paladin sighed softly. “Do you begrudge my lads and I calling on you this morning?” he asked.

“No,” Rick shook his head, “yet we’re curious as to what brought ye t’ our doorstep. The last Took from Great Smials t’ visit Ivy-Bellflower was Uncle Isengar back when I was but a tween. He brought Aunt Mira a couple o’ times b’fore she married a fellow yonder over the Brandywine.”

A smile spread across Paladin’s face with discovering they indeed had something--or someone in common. “I knew Uncle Isengar and Aunt Mira very well,” he said.

For a while they took turns recounting stories about Isengar and his adventures at sea and abroad while Pippin and Degger sat listening to the old tales. In the meantime, Lilly and Rosemary brought out the food and tea then sat down near Rick to listen and visit. After they sat, Paladin noted that both matrons fixed their eyes upon one of the visiting children.

Without further ado, all the hobbits set to the meal and continued their exchange. Having got to know one another a wee bit through shared recollections, Paladin drummed up the courage to ask the one question that had been niggling at him since before Yule. He lifted his teacup to drink from it, then hesitated. “Are you the head of this family?” he asked Rick.

Rick shook his head in reply. “We’ve not had a head o’ the family since Uncle Digg passed away a few years ago.” Here, Rick stole another glance at Degger. “He left no sons b’hind, just a couple o’ daughters--but my mum could tell ye more about all o’ Isembold’s lasses than I. She’s more or less become the matriarch o’ the family, so t’ speak, bein’ she’s nigh t’ one-hundred-and-four years old.”

Pippin and Degger raised their eyebrows and smiled. Bilbo had been the only hobbit Pippin had ever known that had lived more than one-hundred years. Degger knew of Mr. Bilbo, but had never met him.

“Our lads will be comin’ in from ploughin’ the fields soon,” said Rick, “and the lasses from their chores in the barn. Why don’t ye folk stay and have elevenses with us an’ then we’ll pay a visit with my mum after?”

Not long after Rick extended the invitation, young hobbits in their teens and tween could be heard entering the house. A lively discussion could be heard taking place in back of the centre hallway between the lads and lasses.

The group stopped in the doorway of the parlour, but did not enter. “Dad! Daisy says she can plough a field faster than me!” said a lad seeming to be round Pippin’s age.

Rosemary and Lilly gave reproving looks to the lass, but Rick laughed. “She probably could, Sam! Yer cousin Vera’s got a couple o’ years on ye.” He briefly introduced the children to the visiting Tooks and then said, “Now all ye children go an’ wash up for elevenses. Sam, take our young guests with ye.” He looked over to Paladin, “We’ll use the wash basin in the kitchen.”

Once the children had left, Paladin followed Rick’s lead and stood to his feet. Putting his hands in his pockets, he boldly asked, “Tell me, Rick--what do you and Lilly find so fascinating about my lad, Degger? Don’t assume that I didn’t see the glances and the looks between you.”

“Well,” Rick replied, his hands also fumbling round inside his pockets, “T’ be honest...I don’t think the lad is yers.”

“Pardon?” Paladin wondered at the audacity of this hobbit. “Perhaps I didn’t hear you correctly.”

“Ye heard correctly,” said Rick. “The lad Degger--he isn’t blood t’ ye, is he?”

Paladin shrugged his shoulders impassively. He recalled giving only his surname with his own introduction, figuring the lads’ could be deduced as time went on. “Does it matter? Will he be excluded from meals because he is a Greenhill and not a Took?”

“That’s where ye’re wrong, Cousin,” answered Rick, his face lit up noticeably. “He may be a Greenhill by name, but that lad is definitely a Took.”

“Don’t be absurd!” Paladin shot back, “First you tell me he isn’t my blood kin, then in the next breath you tell me he’s a Took. For your information, my son, nephew, and I found Degger living in a dark alley in Michel Delving seven years ago almost to the day. I will concede that the names Diggory and Degger sound similar, but have no bearing on the heritage of the individuals.”

“It’s not just the names, my friend,” said Nick, now speaking up. “I think you’ll understand what we’re sayin’ when we visit Auntie Bettie after elevenses.”

“What does your Auntie Bettie have to do with my Degger?” demanded Paladin.

“Ye have t’ see her t’ believe it,” answered Nick.

After their odd conversation, Paladin wasn’t so sure he wanted to visit Auntie Bettie--nor was he very hungry for elevenses. However, he did eat enough to allay any uncertainties about his appetite. Pippin, still in his growth spurt, ate four servings--just as any other healthy near-fourteen year old lad would. Degger, slowing down from his growth spurt as he approached tweenhood, ate the standard two-plus helpings in addition to two large slices of apple pie for afters.

A range of conversations were going on all at once round the table between the youngsters and adults alike while filling up the corners. Paladin heeded none of them, as he had much on his mind.

“Sam wants to take me and Degger to see their draught ponies in the paddock after this,” Pippin said to his father.

“It seems we’re going to visit Cousin Rick’s mother after elevenses,” Paladin quietly replied to his son. “You can look at the ponies afterward.”

“Wait until I write Frodo and tell him they have a Sam here, too,” Pippin sniggered. “Sam will be so surprised!”

“That’s nice,” answered Paladin rather absently.

“What’s wrong, Papa?”

“Just things on my mind, is all,” he said, then ate his last bite of pie.

“What sort of things?”

Before Paladin could answer his son--even if he could articulate it--Rick, and his cousins broke off from their discussions and stood up. “Are ye comin’ with us?” Rick asked Paladin and the lads.

Paladin wiped his mouth with his napkin, “Aye. We’ll all come.”

“Good! We’ll find her in the back garden gettin’ a whiff of fresh air,” said Rick, “We’ll go through the Grand Hall behind the parlour.”

A few of Stan and Rick’s children followed along as they wound their way back toward the parlour, past it, and then entered the Grand Hall. The Grand Hall was basically an enormous room filled with decorative vases, simple wall mirrors framed in wood. A large chandelier hung from the centre of the ceiling and a few tapestries hung from the walls, but mostly the walls were filled with sketches and paintings of various hobbits, young children, teen-aged children, old hobbits, and those in between. There were a few large paintings of entire families.

“This room is the only one like it in this house,” explained Nick. “The tapestries were woven by our Aunt Dillie, and the vases were made by Aunt Dina. The portraits are the only items we hired an outside artist t’ do. This is a drawin’ of my oldest lass, Rosa.”

“And here’s a paintin’ of my family,” said Stan, standing behind them. In the painting sat a hobbit in a chair surrounded by his wife and six children; two lads and four daughters.

Rick stood off to the side near the double doors that opened to the back garden, arms crossed and a bit of a smug grin on his face. “And here’s an old paintin’ o’ my mum from when she was younger.”

Paladin turned from one painting or sketch to the other, then finally whirled round to look at the portrait of the lady whom Nick referred to as Auntie Bettie. When Paladin laid his eyes upon the lady in the painting, the air in his lungs suddenly vanished. He felt as if the world had suddenly turned upside-down.

The lady in the painting looked as if she could have been Degger’s mother, sister, aunt, or first cousin. They shared the same arched eyebrows, the roundish nose and deep-set brown eyes--even the same thoughtful expression. At any rate, Paladin wasn’t ready to cave in to Rick’s assertion just yet--there were far too many doubts and questions.

“Admit it, Cousin--I’m right about your lad.”

All the mysteries surrounding that fateful trip to Michel Delving so many years ago flooded Paladin’s memory; Merry’s fantastical experience along with the chance meeting of a very lonely and orphaned thirteen-year-old lad. And now, years later, Paladin finds himself standing in the hall of family portraits belonging to cousins he’d never known before this day while staring at the portrait of a handsome matron. Not just any matron--the youngest daughter of his Great-Uncle Isembold, who, by-the-by, just happened to look like a the first edition to Degger. Degger?  Yes, Degger!  Paladin felt his legs give way from underneath him and he plopped down hard upon his backside, leaning against the wall.

“Papa!” Pippin shouted fearfully, both he and Degger ran to his side.

“He’s all right, laddies,” said Rick, fanning the dazed hobbit with his pocket handkerchief. “He’s just feelin’ a bit overwhelmed at the moment. Sam, go an’ fetch a cup o’ water for our cousin.”

Paladin looked at Rick breathlessly, his skin paler than normal. “You...you did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Aye, I did. I wanted ye t’ think about what I said earlier.”

“That painting doesn’t validate anything--it just proves that they look similar to each other,” Paladin answered unconvincingly. Actually, he was very curious and wanted to know answers, if nothing else, for Degger’s sake. “All hobbits in the Shire are cousins to somebody to some degree," he argued, "Some of us are bound to look alike.”

At that moment, Young Sam returned with the requested cup of water, giving it to his father, who in turn, helped Paladin to take a drink. “If ye’re feelin’ better,” said Rick, “then let’s get ye up and we’ll walk out t’ my mum’s favourite spot in the garden.”

The group ambled at a leisurely pace toward the garden while Pippin and Degger walked on either side of Paladin to help keep him steady. Paladin felt fine, but he indulged the lads by reaching an arm round each of them.

“There she is,” said Rick, “over by the that bare patch o’ earth. All o’ her attendants with her, too.”

“All?” asked Paladin, squinting in the daylight. “How many does she need?”

“Only one,” Rick replied, “but the young lasses love her. I can’t have all my daughters and cousins waitin’ on her all at once, so I keep two on hand, and the rest have t’ wait until their turn comes up.  Still, they like t' spend the afternoon in the garden with her.”

Paladin shook his head in shame. “I have trouble getting just one lad to tend to Cousin Ferumbras.”

“That is sad. We got news ’bout the Thain’s malady back round Yule,” said Stan. “Who’s sittin’ in for him?”

Paladin quietly answered, “I am.”

Rick stopped in his tracks. “Ye?”

“Aye.”

“Ye’re the Took and the Thain?” Rick asked incredulously.

“Acting Took and Thain,” Paladin corrected his cousin.

“So, ye’re not just a Took cousin sayin’ ye’re goin’ t’ reunite the families, then go home t’ yer own family an’ forget ‘bout ev’rythin’ the moment ye’re feet are warmin’ in front o’ the hearth?”

Paladin shook his head. “No.”

A sincere smile spread slowly across Rick’s face. “Good.”

TBC

_{“So, ye’re not just a Took cousin sayin’ ye’re goin’ t’ reunite the families, then go home t’ yer own family an’ forget ‘bout ev’rythin’ the moment ye’re feet are warmin’ in front o’ the hearth?”}

_{Paladin shook his head. “No.”}

_{A sincere smile spread slowly across Rick’s face. “Good.” - Chapter 14}

Chapter 15, A Tangled Web of Riddles

Everyone settled themselves on benches near to Auntie Bettie while Degger and Pippin made themselves comfortable upon the grass nearer to Paladin. Young Degger took note that it wasn’t Rick staring at him this time, but it was Aunt Bettie herself. She said nothing to him, however.

He heard Rick loudly clear his throat to take his mum’s attention off of the teenaged lad. “As ye can see, Mum,” Rick said, “We have visitors.” He next introduced them, carefully enunciating Degger’s full name for his elderly mother, whose hazel eyes darted to meet her son’s in looking for affirmation. It hardly went unnoticed that she gently placed her hand upon her Rick’s, as if hoping for something.

Degger felt the aging lady’s gaze upon him. A bit self-conscious over all of the scrutiny toward him, he did his best to look in the other direction to avoid her gaze.

“Sam, take our young friends an’ play a game o’ foot-ball in the field yonder,” Rick suggested to his son, although Degger sensed it was more than a mere suggestion. “I’m sure they’re growin’ bored with all this grown-up chatter.”

“But Dad!” Sam replied in dismay, “Gran’ma is goin’ t’ tell her stories.”

“Not right off, she isn’t,” said Rick, ruffling his son’s auburn curls. “When she gets t’ tellin’ her tales, I’ll be sure t’ call ye children over so ye can listen.”

“Oh, very well,” said Sam while getting up. The foot-ball game was one of Sam’s favourite play-activities so he wasn’t entirely unhappy about the situation. “C’mon, Pippin...Degger.”

Paladin gave his lads a slight nod to let them know he was in agreement with Rick.

As Pippin and Degger sauntered behind Sam, Pippin nudged the older teen, speaking in a low tone, “The more we linger here at Ivy Bellflower, the stranger this visit seems to get.”

“Aye,” Degger replied in a whisper that only his friend could hear. “I just wish they would stop gawpin’ at me.”

“I’ve saw all that!” Pippin exclaimed. “I’ll wager Papa noticed as well.”

“I just wonder what’s so interestin’ ’bout me that makes’em want t’ stare.”

A mischievous gleam came into Pippin’s bright green eyes. “They all think you’re a just a precious dumpling!” he said while patting Degger’s cheek. The cynical expression on Degger’s face made Pippin laugh.

“Kick it!” Sam shouted as he kicked a ball toward the two lads. At once, all three lads were engaged in kicking the ball while trying not to miss it as it was kicked toward him. In this game, they each started out with ten points. If a lad broke the volley by missing the ball, then he lost a point. The game was over when the first player reached zero. The player with the most points won.

Pippin and Sam proved to be the better dribblers. “You’re not concentrating, Degger,” Pippin said to his friend. But no matter how many tips or amount of encouragement Pippin gave the older (and less experienced) teen, Degger seemed to miss almost every other ball. In the end, Degger was the first player to lose all ten of his points.

“I win!” Sam yelled out while dancing a victory jig.

“No, you don’t,” said Pippin, “It’s a draw; we both missed twice.”

“True, but since I own the ball I declare myself t’ be the victor,” Sam replied smugly.

Pippin merely shook his head; he wasn’t going to argue with that lopsided logic. Besides, these Took descendants were indeed proving to be quite odd as time went on.

Despite that, so fervent had the lads been in playing the game that no one heeded the pair of lasses walking up the incline of the back garden.

“You don’t own the ball!” laughed the tall lass, “No one does. Uncle Rick purchased it for all of the children to play with, if I remember rightly. That’s why it’s stored in the children’s playhouse outside.”

“You see,” said the second lass, “our cousin usually loses to his older lad-cousins, so you really must forgive Sam’s zealous behaviour.”

Noting the lasses speech wasn’t the same as Sam’s, Pippin became curious. “You live here at Ivy Bellflower?”

Both lasses giggled. “No,” the first lass spoke up. “Well, not really. We live in Nobottle, but our mother brings us here on occasion.” The lass flushed a bit, hesitated as if she would go on, but then decided against speaking her thoughts. Instead she introduced herself. “My name is Thistle Hornblower, and this is my younger sister, Camomile.”

“Cammy, if you please,” said the second lass with a curtsy. “And coming up the hill is our youngest sister Holly with our mother.”

Pippin and Degger bowed in courtesy. Pippin spoke first, “My name is Peregrin Took, but everyone generally calls me Pippin, and this is my friend, Degger Greenhill.”

“Greenhill? And where do you come from?” asked Thistle.

“Great Smials.”

“Mother!” Thistle turned to the matron walking up the crest of the knoll with a young teenaged lass trailing her. “We have visitors at I-B all the way from Great Smials!”

As soon as Thistle’s mother laid her eyes on him, Degger again felt the scrutiny of a stranger’s gaze.

“I’m sorry,” the lady said after a while. “Please forgive my ill manners. For a moment...I thought ye were someone I knew.” She smiled nervously. “Ye’ve already met my oldest daughters, and this is my youngest, Holly. And my name is Layla Hornblower, although my maiden name was Took.”

Degger thought to break the tension just a bit by making small talk. “That’s funny--my mum’s name was Gayla.”

Degger saw the lady’s face turn white.

“Ye...ye grew up at Great Smials?” Layla asked the lad, a bit of hesitation in her voice.

“Not altogether, Ma’am,” Degger answered guardedly. “I lived in Michel Delvin’, then came t’ live at Great Smials seven years ago.

Layla dropped the hand basket she was holding, its contents spilling onto the ground beside her feet.

Pippin listened to the discourse with great interest. While he had been a mere seven years old when that trip to Michel Delving occurred, there were certain names and places that had stuck inside his brain. Being the young gentlehobbit that he was, however, Pippin stepped forward, stooping to pick up the dropped items.

“Peregrin Took and Degger Greenhill, at your service, Ma’am,” Pippin said handing Layla the basket. Then he and Degger bowed again as protocol ordered, but when they stood upright, they found Mistress Layla Hornblower had swooned upon the grass.

* * * * *

“Tea?” Mistress Lilly asked Degger as she held out a large cup of tea with a saucer for him to take. A platter of biscuits for filling up the corners sat upon the tea table in the centre of the room.”

“Aye, thank ye,” the teen answered, taking the offered drink. He didn’t touch the biscuits, as he was barely able to keep his luncheon down. If the same luncheon had been served back at Great Smials, Degger would have had seconds and thirds and then sopped up the gravy with a slice of Mistress May’s freshly baked bread. But not here--not at I-B, as Miss Thistle referred to this place. When Mr. Paladin asked him if he felt all right, Degger replied he was fine. Yet that was far from the truth.

As soon as Sam, and his cousin Holly, ran back to the garden for help with Mistress Layla, Pippin took off his coat to cover Mistress Layla and keep her warm. Degger rolled up his own coat to place under her head...and when he did so, he suddenly found himself staring into her face. There was something very peculiar about Mistress Layla, who had taken her luncheon in her room while recovering from her earlier distress. Isembold’s descendants still found his own face quite fascinating, however, Degger had become aware that Mistress Layla’s face seemed vaguely familiar to him...and he wondered why.

Degger’s hand trembled as he lifted the large cup to his lips. He felt like a bundle of nerves. Coming inside from the back garden, Degger and Pippin (not wearing their coats) were immediately shown to the dining room to get warm by the hearth then eat luncheon.

When luncheon was over, Degger and Pippin sat beside one another on the couch in the parlour with the rest of the family. Mr. Paladin wrapped a blanket round Degger and Pippin, figuring Degger’s shivers was caused by the chill air outside and giving up his coat for a lady. Degger looked over at Pippin beside him then smiled; Pippin was far from shivering.

The younger teen sat with his head leaning back, his eyelids closed, and his own cup of tea leaning precariously in hands which rested upon his lap. Degger quickly reached over to take Pippin’s cup before it spilled.

“Come on,” said Paladin, helping his young son up to his feet. “It’s time you took a nap anyway. You didn’t sleep much last night so you may as well catch up on it now.” Pippin mumbled something about not being sleepy, yet he allowed his father to guide him out of the parlour. Degger remained behind sitting on the couch while Pippin and his father were shown to the guest rooms.

The silence was loud. Only the sound of the pendulum clock could be heard ticking the time away.

Bringing the teacup to his mouth, Degger still couldn’t explain why he was still trembling, however, the more he pondered it, the more he thought it had to do with the excitement of Mistress Layla fainting...or with Mr. Rick and Mistress Lilly boring holes into him with their eyes whenever they thought he wasn’t looking. Just as he once more felt the uncomfortable sensation of eyes coming to rest upon him, the door to the parlour opened and Mistress Layla slowly entered inside.

“How are ye feelin’, Layla?” Rick asked his cousin.

Layla quietly nodded her reply, though she continued to walk across the room, settling on a settee near the window while shamelessly gaping at young Degger.

Degger averted his eyes.

“Layla, let the lad be,” Rick said to his cousin, sensing her intention. He sat in a large overstuffed chair using his arm to prop his head, the rest of his body lazily shifted to one side of the chair as if all his energy had been taken. “The lad obviously doesn’t know anythin’ or remember anythin’.

Degger nervously dared a glance toward Mistress Layla.

“I’m sorry, Rick,” she responded, “but all these long years all I’ve wanted to know is how Taddy ended up buried beside their father. Today we learn that all this time Heather was still in Michel Delving living with a stranger--as her handmaid! For seven years we’ve ached for these children--to know what had befallen them, and here one of them happens to walk inside our front door--”

Just as Layla uttered her last remark, Paladin re-entered the room. He cleared his throat quite audibly to signal his return...and that he had heard what Layla had spoke. Paladin glared his disapproval at her.

Layla excused herself from the room; she wasn’t happy at all with how things were progressing.

“Well,” Rick said, rising from his comfortable position in his chair, “I need t’ see ’bout gettin’ thins from the cellar for supper tonight. Ye plan on stayin’ for supper, don’t ye?”

“Aye,” Paladin replied kindly. He sat down beside Degger, taking the seat Pippin had occupied earlier.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if ye need anythin’,” Rick said as he exited the parlour. “I’ll see ye’re not bothered,” he mouthed to Paladin while their eyes still met, then closed the door behind him.

For a while Paladin sat beside the lad who had become his legal foster son just three months ago. Paladin had a knot in his stomach the size of an apple, having learnt something of this peculiar family in the garden right before lunch. Various emotions whirled round inside his head while he tried desperately to find the right words for what he was about to say. He sensed young Degger was quite tense as he sat beside him. Did Degger understand anything Layla had blurted? Did it frighten him? Paladin certainly felt frightened at the moment. Right now, nothing seemed certain in neither his nor Degger’s life.

All the while Paladin sorted out his thoughts; Degger sat beside his benefactor, stunned, saying nothing as his own restless thoughts wheeled inside his young head. How did Mistress Layla know about his brother and sister? She called them each by name! How did she know Taddy was buried next to their dad? Who was this lady?

Degger’s emotions overwhelmed him when he finally spoke up. He had never gone against Mr. Paladin before now, as more often than not, Mr. Paladin possessed good hobbit-sense. However, Degger felt far too upset to linger at Ivy Bellflower any longer then he had to.

“I don’t think I want t’ stay for supper,” he said timidly, wiping away tears that had formed in his eyes. “That is, if ye please, sir.”

“Degger,” Paladin exhaled a long breath, “I would never force any of my children to stay someplace that makes them feel as uncomfortable as I believe you must feel right now.” Seeing just how upset Degger had become, Paladin gently pulled the teen closer. “Come here, lad,” he said affectionately. Wrapping an arm round the teen’s shoulders, Paladin continued, “But before we make such a rash decision, would you consider listening to a story that I think you ought to hear? Hear me out, and then we’ll determine if you still feel the same about leaving before supper, shall we?” He saw Degger silently nod his reply then wipe at his eyes again. Paladin reached inside his waistcoat pocket to offer Degger a handkerchief.

“Mr. Rick firmly believes you to be a long-lost child that belongs to this family. It appears that Mistress Layla is just as firm in her belief. He and Auntie Bettie related their tale to me in the garden while you lads were off playing a game of foot-ball.

“It’s a sad tale of a young newlywed couple who moved to a big town to find better fortune after a meagre harvest at their family’s home in Little Delving. While others in their family removed to more western or northern villages such as Tighfield and Nobottle, this young couple removed to Michel Delving.

“After a time, the husband seriously injured himself and could never find steady work thereafter. Since they now had young children to feed, the wife went to work at the local mill. The mill didn’t pay much, but at least the young family didn’t go hungry.

“All the while they kept in touch with their family by writing letters, for it was a very far journey to make for casual visits with such young children to care for, so visits between were very few. After a couple of years working at the mill, the young mother sustained a severe wound and grew very ill soon afterward. She passed away, leaving behind a husband and three very young children. The mother’s sister came to care for the family for a little while, and even suggested to the father to return to Ivy Bellflower where he would have help with caring for the children, but the father baulked at the notion, saying Michel Delving was their home now.

“Letters to Ivy Bellflower dwindled considerably; it wasn’t unusual for many months to pass between letters from the father to his family in Little Delving. But when six months had passed and not one letter came, the family from Little Delving became worried and came in search of their loved ones in Michel Delving, wondering what had come to pass that no word had been sent.

“They were staggered at what they found. Buried beside the mother was now her husband, and beside him was their eldest son. They had arrived too late and had no idea as to what had happened to the two youngest members of that family.”

Paladin looked closely at Degger to see what sort of reaction the teen had to hearing the tale. He saw Degger use the handkerchief on his eyes and nose for the hundredth time, but the lad said nothing.

“Does any of this ring a bell, Degger?” Paladin asked him softly.

Degger replied in a quavering voice, “I’d like t’ go home, if ye please.”

* * * *

“It’s our own fault,” Rick said to Paladin, his voice heavy with disappointment. “If we had been up front with everythin’ from the beginnin’ the lad wouldn’t feel put into a corner, so t’ speak.”

“I think he is feeling extremely overwhelmed at the moment,” Paladin put in.

“Where is he now?” asked Rick, lowering a sack of potatoes to the kitchen floor.

“I left him in the parlour to get him some tea to relax him,” answered Paladin.

“Will he talk t’ me, do ye think?”

“If I know Degger, probably not without me present.”

“I’d like t’ have the chance t’ at least apologise for how we’ve behaved,” said Rick. “I’d hate for him t’ go home with a sour taste in his mouth toward Isembold’s children.”

“Aye--I can agree to that,” Paladin replied, “but let me talk to him first.”

“Aye, and I can agree t’ that, too,” said Rick. He straightened up, leaning upon the wall next to the sideboard he folded his arms over his chest. “What do ye think about all I’ve told ye?”

“I think that there might be credence to your tale, however, I also believe Degger holds the key to much of it although he doesn’t realise it. He’s frightened teen-aged lad, and rightly so--we’re asking a much of him right now. A tangled web of curious riddles has just been laid in his lap and he has no idea what to make of it all.”

“We never meant t’ frighten the lad,” said Rick. He leaned his head against the sideboard and closed his eyes in thought. “My--I should say our intention isn’t t’ take him away from the only home he’s known the last seven years. I most certainly won’t allow that t’ happen.” Rick opened his eyes, looking straight at Paladin. “But do ye understand the significance o’ his lineage?”

“Absolutely, I do,” Paladin replied without a flinch. “It appears that his mother Gayla was the eldest daughter of Isembold’s only surviving son. But do you understand that Degger has not been groomed for any such thing as being the head of a large clan?* As years go by I’d guide him in how to be the head of his own little family--how to be a good husband and father, but that is a far cry from what you plan to do with him. Degger is far too young to be placed in such an office. He’s isn’t even a tween yet.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rick shot back. “I know how young the lad is. I just want him to be aware o’ what is set b’fore him. I won’t live forever, ye know. Some of the folk here are twice removed from Isembold an’ don’t look at themselves as Tooks anymore. By the time Degger comes-of-age, he needs t’ be able to make a decision.”

“What if he decides against the headship? What if he decides to be plain old Degger for the rest of his life?” asked Paladin.

Rick shrugged his shoulders in a disappointed manner. “We’ll just have t’ sell the farm an’ divide the profit among Isembold’s children as best we can. Because by the time I’m old enough an’ ready t’ take my ease an’ retire, Nick, Stick, an’ I will be the only families still livin’ here. This house was made for many families t’ live in, not just one or two. There was a time when all twelve apartments were filled an’ overflowin’; there’s ’bout half that now. There’ll be even less when Degger starts raisin’ his own family.”

Paladin nodded in acknowledgement, then took the offered cup of camomile tea Lilly had made for Degger. “I’ll talk to him again, but its entirely up to Degger what he wants to do.”

TBC...

_{*A/N: I am interpreting JRR Tolkien’s Letter #214, where “headship might pass through a daughter of the deceased to his eldest grandson”. I have not interpreted it to a “T” with regard to “ancient records or ancestral mansions”, but trust me, I will not cross any other lines that would be in blatant violation of canon, or the Professor’s idea of headship. As the story goes further on, Degger’s wee part will become clearer to the Reader. Thank you for reading! :-)}

Chapter 16, No More Doubts

_{“We never meant t’ frighten the lad,” said Rick....“But do ye understand the significance o’ his lineage?”}

_{“Absolutely, I do,” Paladin replied without a flinch. - Chapter 15}

Throughout the rest of that day, whenever Paladin tried to speak to Degger about the possibility of his lineage, Degger would change the subject every time.

“I think their front garden is goin’ t’ be beautiful when everythin’ blossoms in the spring--don’t ye, Mr. Paladin?”

Degger made that sort of reply three times before Paladin got the hint that the lad did not wish to speak on the matter any further. So much was happening so fast that Paladin not only got the hint, but was more or less in agreement with the teen. He would not bring up the subject again until the following morning.

Realising his earlier--and quite emotional--request had been a tad on the unreasonable side Degger did assent to stay at Ivy Bellflower the remainder of the day and to spend night there.

“I do feel uneasy about bein’ here, but I don’t think they mean any harm,” he later told Paladin before supper. However, for the rest of the evening, Degger kept to himself inside the guestroom he and Pippin shared.

Pippin, for his part, spent the evening with his good friend in the guestroom once his father explained everything that happened with Degger. Pippin was not in the habit of leaving any of his friends alone at a time when they needed a companion the most. Even at his young age Pippin understood that Degger was having a difficult time dealing with it all.

It was in the wee hours of the morning that Pippin woke suddenly from a strange dream that he couldn’t remember. He sat up straight taking in the surroundings of his room. Fortunately, it seemed to Pippin, that he at least did not yell out in his sleep because Degger still lay motionless on his side of the bed. Pippin crooked his arm then used his sleeve to wipe away the dampness on his forehead, wondering if it was the mushroom pasties that he and Degger ate before bedtime that prompted the dream, or if it was the apple dumpling he had absconded from the desert trolley after kissing his father good night. After a while of picking at the tiny fur balls on the blanket, Pippin decided that it was neither; it was probably just a simple dream that woke him and probably was prompted from too much sleep, as he had napped earlier that day for nearly three hours. Pippin sighed; he was too alert now to fall back to sleep. He had an idea.

Slipping out of bed, Pippin pulled on his dressing gown then quietly stepped out of the room. The young teen squinted, as the dimly lit hallway stabbed at his eyes, demanding they adjust to the brighter light. Pippin padded down the hall, down the stairs, then meandered toward the rooms on the other side of the parlour; Sam had mentioned before that the library was back this way.

When he came to the first door in the hallway, Pippin opened it to peek inside the room. Although it was darker further inside, the hall light spilled into the entryway and onto a desk situated nearby while the dark silhouette of a bookcase stood in the glow of the moonlit window. Pippin presumed that this was probably Rick’s study, so he shut the door and moved on.

The next room Pippin investigated, his nose filled with a tinge of musty air and the smell of leather. Pippin smiled at the familiar scent; this was indeed the library. He left the door open to allow the hall light to follow him into the darkened room. Pippin folded his arms tightly together for warmth as he approached the cold hearth. He figured a small fire to warm up the room wouldn’t hurt, so he placed a couple of logs and some kindling onto the grating and then built a cosy little fire for himself.

The lad stood in front of the hearth for a while warming his hands and toes before turning round to take in Ivy Bellflower’s library. Pippin blinked as he looked round; this library wasn’t nearly as large as the one at Great Smials. Then again, age-wise, Ivy Bellflower wasn’t a fraction as old as Great Smials, either. Pippin began perusing the shelves to see what sorts of books were available for reading. The lower shelves contained children’s books while the middle shelves were filled with both new and old lesson books, recipe books, and how-to books. At length, Pippin stumbled upon the history books; he loved history. Pippin’s favourite history stories, however, were mostly told by his own father and by Cousin Bilbo, but generally, Pippin loved whatever sort of history he could get his hands on. He pulled out a book recounting the legend of the Fallohides crossing the Ettenmoors, flipped through several leafs, and then out of the corner of his eye on a higher shelf, Pippin caught sight of a long line of grey leather-bound volumes of, “The Book of Trees“. Instead, Pippin put the “crossing” book back on the shelf and looked about for a footstool; truly, he had grown this past year, but not yet enough to reach the very top shelf without assistance.

Pippin’s arms were full as he carried away three heavy and the most important volumes of the Trees over to the fireplace. He noticed a bowl of apples and pears on the table--obviously meant to keep young readers quiet. He grabbed one of each, found an oil lamp, lit it, and then settled himself on a pillow in front of the hearth for a long, pre-dawn read. After all, this was a much better option compared to that of tossing and turning and subsequently waking someone who truly needed his sleep.

* * * *

Degger felt himself being roused from the sweet slumber that he finally found long after midnight. Opening his eyes, Degger discovered Rick perched upon the edge of his bed, his finger to his lips. The quiet teen-ager instinctively pulled his bed clothes up to his chin.

“I’m sorry t’ wake ye, Degger,” said Rick, “but first breakfast is on the table if ye want any. I thought t’ wake Paladin, but bein’ the farmer that he is, he was already up. He asked me t’ see if ye an’ Pippin were hungry, but in the middle of it all I got an amusin’ surprise. Follow me!”

Curious, Degger rose from the guest bed, put on his dressing gown, then followed the elder hobbit out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and toward some back rooms.

“When I went int’ yer room t’ wake ye the first time,” Rick explained as he spoke over his shoulder, “I saw only one young hobbit in the bed. So, I took a turn round the rooms back here and found what I thought I’d find.” Rick smiled as he opened the door into the library.

Inside, on the far side of the room near the hearth, laid a younger teen with his head resting upon a large open book. The wick inside the lantern had burned out long ago, and the cores to an apple and pear, both eaten down to their cartilage stood on their ends like sentinels off to the side.

Yes, Degger, thought, that was certainly Mr. Pippin over there sleeping on the mat in front of the hearth with another very large book in his arms. Degger gave a questioning look to Rick.

It was as if Rick had read Degger’s thoughts. “I thought ye might want t’ see if he wants first breakfast as well,” he said, and then left.

Degger rubbed the sand from his eyes as he meandered over to his dearest friend, wondering why Rick couldn’t have done the task himself. Waking an almost-fourteen-year-old hobbit wasn’t all that difficult. He looked through weary brown eyes at the slim teen that slept deeply upon one of the library’s most hallowed tomes with saliva oozing from his mouth. Degger gasped in horror when he sighted the title.

“Mr. Pippin!” he whispered while gently placing a hand on Pippin’s shoulder, “Yer spittin’ all over their books!”

“Mmm?” murmured Pippin. He wasn’t far from fully waking, yet he wasn’t quite ‘there’ yet.

“Wake up, Mr. Pippin!”

“No...” moaned the waking teen.

“Yes!”

Pippin took in a long, deep breath and then let it out....and then nothing.

“Mr. Pippin--wake up!”

“I don’t have your hair ribbon or fishing hook, Vinca...”

“Mr. Pippin, we’re not at home--there’s no ribbons or hooks. We’re at Little Delvin’ at Ivy Bellflower. Ye’re spittin’ on their book! Please wake up,” Degger pleaded.

Pippin yawned and then opened his eyes to slits. “What’s going on?” he asked drowsily.

“Mr. Rick asked me if I’d wake ye for first breakfast, an’ I thought that was all he wanted, but then I saw ye’d spit all over his family’s books.”

“Degger,” Pippin yawned again, stretched his back and arms, and then rubbed the faerie sand out of his eyes. “First, the past-tense of ‘spit’ is spat. I spat all over Cousin Rick’s family books. Second, I can’t help it--it happens when I’m asleep.” Using the sash of his dressing gown, Pippin dabbed at the saliva on the page. Luckily, the page cleaned well and would dry without ruin. “I must have fallen asleep while reading about you.”

“Me?”

“Aye, you!”

Puzzled, Degger sat down beside Pippin. “What do ye mean?”

“I know that you were upset yesterday over hearing about...well, about where you came from, so I’ll tell you about what I’ve read, but only if you ask.”

Degger stared with trepidation at the ominous book that would confirm or deny his relation to Rick and Auntie Bettie.

“Mr. Pippin,” he spoke softly, “I know a lot o’ thins’ said yesterday had me in a fix all evenin’, but my doubts arise from what yer dad said t’ me in retellin’ the story Mr. Rick told t’ him. Mr. Paladin said my dad wrote t’ Mr. Rick’s family after my mum passed. My dad wasn’t a lettered hobbit, Mr. Pippin, so how could he write any letters?”

Pippin became pensive as he tried to work out Degger’s claim in his head. “Well,” he replied slowly, “could it be possible that your father enlisted a friend or hired someone to write it for him? That’s quite common among folk who don’t know how to read or write.”

Still eyeing the open book, Degger shrugged. “I s’ppose it might be possible.”

Both lads sat cross-legged in front of the hearth listening to the dying, crackling embers; at length, Pippin reached to take the poker to stir the hot ashes. When he felt a wave of warmth wash over his face, he sat back beside Degger again.

“But...,” Degger spoke softly, half afraid of speaking what was truly on his mind.

“But what?” asked Pippin.

The red-gold glow from the dying fire radiated on the lads’ faces as they sat mesmerised by the drifting embers.

“I don’t know,” Degger exhaled wearily, “Mr. Paladin said they looked for us. I don’t think they looked very hard.”

“You’re saying that Mr. Rick and Mistress Layla didn’t do their best to find you and Heather?”

“They didn’t do their best t’ find Taddy, me, and Heather.”

“We don’t know that for certain, Degger,” said Pippin. “Michel Delving is a huge town--probably larger than Tuckborough.”

Pippin had come to know Degger and his disposition quite well over the past year. He watched Degger closely for a reaction. When he perceived none was forthcoming, he continued on, not wanting to lose this moment. “You can’t live life forever wondering what might-have-been, what could-have-been, what should-have-been--or what they could have done. We came here looking for my family, Degger, but instead, we have found yours, and I think that is splendid. Even if you were to have stayed behind at Great Smials while my father and I came here in search of lost cousins, we would have made the same discovery regardless. Here--I’m not going to wait for you to ask--have a look!”

Pippin turned back two pages of the book he was holding then pointed to a group of names. “You see? Here it is in complete proof. No more doubting, eh?”

Degger leaned to the side ever so slightly to see where Pippin’s finger indicated to a family tree. And there he read it:

“Miss Gayla-Rose Took, daughter of Diggory Took, of Ivy Bellflower, Little Delving, & Mr. Wilbourne Greenhill, son of Gilbourne Greenhill of Mare’s Nest, Little Delving, wedded this day...”

Then Pippin turned to the next page where Degger saw depicted three lower branches of a family tree with Gayla and Wilbourne’s names set up high in the boughs. Each of the lower branches had a name: Tad, Deggory, and Heather.

Degger’s eyes glistened as he tenderly placed a finger over the letters of his parent’s names. “Then it’s true,” he said softly.

“Aye,” Pippin whispered just as softly. He suddenly had a fear that Degger would not return to Great Smials with him and his father. “What are you going to do?”

Degger let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know.”

TBC

Chapter 17, Rhymes and Reasons

_{Degger’s eyes glistened as he tenderly placed a finger over the letters of his parent’s names. “Then it’s true,” he said softly.}

_{“Aye,” Pippin whispered just as softly. He suddenly had a fear that Degger would not return to Great Smials with him and his father. “What are you going to do?”}

_{Degger let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know.” - Chapter 16}

“This is good training, I suppose,” said Pippin, doing some fancy footwork upon the steps as he went up to the guest room, “but I don’t see any real purpose for having bedrooms on an upper level away from the kitchen and parlour. Personally, I don’t like the idea of sleeping upstairs.”

Degger casually followed along observing the younger teen’s display of nimble feet. “I’d rather be sleepin’ on the lower level, too,” replied Degger, “but I guess they’re good for getting ye tired and ready for bed, though.”

With first and second breakfast finished, the next item on the agenda was that Rick, Paladin and the two teens would spend the morning in the library looking over the family tree books and answering any questions the three visitors had before they left for home in the afternoon. Pippin bounded up the stairs to his room while Degger sauntered up behind him.

Just as Pippin neared the top, his nimble feet became tangled and he fell atop the staircase with an oomph. Degger grinned and then snorted a laugh after he saw Pippin was not injured. “Are ye all right, Mr. Pippin?”

The only thing bruised about Pippin was his pride; however, he feigned injury and held out his arm to be helped up. Now concerned, Degger complied and took his friend’s hand and arm.

When Pippin felt Degger’s firm grasp he pulled his friend down upon the staircase and commenced to tickle him. Pippin liked to horseplay with Degger. With Degger, he was more on equal ground, as the lad wasn’t much bigger than he. Additionally, Pippin knew he’d get away with tickling his friend mercilessly; Degger wouldn’t cry out or laugh hysterically. Hence, Pippin waited until Degger’s eyes watered and was out of breath from silent laughter before he leapt to his feet and brusquely walked toward their room so as not to attract the attention of adults.

Degger had nearly caught up with Pippin when Thistle, Cammie, and Holly exited their apartment.

“Good morning, lads! Are you feeling well, Degger?” asked Cammie, noticing the lad was flushed and gasping for air.

“Perhaps you ought to get outside more often to build your stamina,” offered the eldest sister, Thistle, “Staircases aren’t for everyone.”

Now it was Pippin’s turn to grin and snort a laugh at Degger.

“My sisters and I are going out to the gardens for a walk,” said Thistle, “Would you and Pippin like to join us?”

“No thank ye, Miss Thistle,” Degger answered. “Mr. Paladin wants me an’ Mr. Pippin t’ do some packin’ b’fore we settle int’ the library for the mornin’.”

“Packing? You’re not packing to leave, are you?” asked Cammie.

Pippin and Degger exchanged looks, shrugged, and then nodded in unison.

“Mother told us that you are going to live here at Ivy Bellflower,” she said to Degger.

Degger wondered at this unsettling news. “Far as I know, I’m leavin’ with Mr. Paladin after lunch.”

“Surely you won’t go against Mother,” said Thistle, “After all, she is your Auntie. Our mothers were sisters, so that makes us first cousins.” She stole a glance at Pippin. “We’re your family now.”

Now Pippin decided to jump into the conversation; he could tell Degger had suddenly grown tense. Furthermore, Pippin wasn’t going to let Mistress Layla take Degger away without a fight. “Really?” he said aloud, “I think I can make that claim as well.”

Cammie asked, “On what grounds?”

Pippin looked the lass straight into her eyes, “According to your own Book of Family Trees, it appears Degger and I are third cousins.”

“First cousins have more blood than third cousins,” said Thistle. “You may not have to pack at all, Degger,” she added, then lead her sisters down the stairwell.

Pippin gaped open mouthed at the audacious lass. He opened the door to his and Degger’s guestroom and shoved Degger inside. Once inside, Degger sat upon the bed with a stricken expression upon his face.

“We can’t just sit here and wait for them to make the first move,” said Pippin impatiently, pacing back and forth much like his father did while lecturing him on a misdeed. “We have to do something!”

Degger said nothing, his arms wrapped round his drawn-up knees as he sat on the bed looking like a lost little child.

“My father won’t let them take you away, Degger,” Pippin said to his friend. “But we’re not going to stay in this prison like a couple of sitting ducks. How much money do you have with you, Degger? Degger?”

The nineteen-year-old started at the second call of his name. He answered absently, “I got a few pennies, that’s all.”

“I brought some, too,” said Pippin, “that ought to get us a meal or two in town until Papa can find us. I’m going to leave him a note in his bedroom.”

* * * * *

“I wonder what is taking those lads so long to pack?” asked Paladin, then turned the page of the book of Trees he was reading. “I know they would want to hear about Griggory and why he passed on at such a young age.”

“They probably took a short cut through the kitchen,” said Rick, lighting his pipe.

“‘Short cuts through the kitchen are not “short cuts” with Pippin’ is what we say at home,” said Paladin. “I hope they get here soon or they might miss out. I wrote and told Tina that we’d be home soon, and in order to do that in a timely fashion we must leave Ivy Bellflower after luncheon.”

* * * *

Inside the guestroom, Pippin threw open the curtains in the window to assess how they should proceed with their escape. It didn’t look promising; he opened the window for a better view. Pippin felt Degger standing beside him.

“That’s a bit of a drop,” Pippin remarked casually at the two-storey chasm, but inwardly he was stunned. He had never seen such a height--not even while climbing trees. Well, he thought, there’s nothing for it, as Sam would say. Either we find a way to the bottom, or Mistress Layla steals Degger right out from under our noses. Pippin licked his lips nervously then swung a leg over the windowsill to give himself a lift up. Instantly he felt himself being pulled back inside the room and fell hard to the floor.

“What were ye thinkin’, Mr. Pippin? This won’t do!” Degger asked breathlessly, still holding his dear friend round his middle. “A fall from there would kill ye.”

“What do you mean, what was I thinking? I’m doing this for you! What else are we to do--sit here and wait for your auntie to take you away?”

“I‘m not worried ‘bout my auntie anymore, an’ there’s always somethin’ better than makin’ believe we’re a couple o’ eagles with wings t’ fly t’ the ground. I got a plan.”

“You have a plan?” Pippin asked incredulously, “Degger Greenhill has a plan?”

“Aye, I do,” said Degger, frowning at Pippin’s disbelief and then grinned. “I learnt from the best, ye know! For the present, though, I s’ppose we ought t’ just go down t’ the library an’ find yer dad. I need t’ talk t’ him, first.”

“All right, but when I’m grown up and married,” said Pippin while getting to his feet, “all of the bedrooms in my home are going to be on the lower level. If my children want to run away, they shouldn’t have to hurt themselves in the effort.”

Degger smiled. “Right, but Mr. Pippin, yer bedrooms are already on the lower levels--ye’ll live in Great Smials.”

Pippin cocked his head in thought and then smiled. “You’re right--but so will you, I hope.”

The would-be eagles used the staircase to descend to the lower level. Approaching the open door of the library, they heard the distinct voice of Degger’s Aunt Layla intermittent with that of two other hobbits.

The voice of Layla drifted into the hallway, “So you agree, Paladin, that Degger ought to stay with his people here at Ivy Bellflower?”

Pippin froze in his tracks near to the doorway, Degger beside him.

Pippin recognised the next voice as belonging to his father. “I did agree that Degger, at his age, is still very much in need of a father-figure and the valuable guidance that hobbit is willing to offer him. But...”

Outside in the hallway Degger nudged Pippin beside him and exhaled heavily. “C’mon. Nothin’ good ever comes from eavesdroppin’.” Pippin gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, then commenced to walk beside his friend to lend his support.

Paladin’s voice continued as the teens entered the room. “...I did not agree to--”

When Rick loudly coughed, Paladin interrupted his response to Layla and then looked at his cousin oddly. Taking Rick’s cue, Paladin looked over his shoulder to see the teens enter inside the library. “Pippin...Degger. Just in time, I might add.”

“Hullo, Papa,” Pippin addressed his father in a soft voice. “Degger has--”

“I have somethin’ t’ ask ye, sir,” said Degger. He spoke barely above a whisper, his brown eyes cast to his feet. “If ye please.”

Degger felt every eye upon him; some were comforting, others...well, they seemed to be looking to him for something that he couldn’t give right now.

After a moment of silence, Paladin spoke up. He took note of the young lad’s unease, thus speaking kindly. “What’s on your mind, son?”

Now that Degger had their audience he found that his tongue clung to the roof of his mouth out of nervousness. Not many people asked what was on his mind, and due to his shyness, he seldom offered it. But...either he speak right now or forever regret it. It sure sounded as if his future whereabouts were being considered with or without his assent. Then again...Degger knew he was still very much a juvenile. Here goes...

“I...I was thinkin’, M-Mr. Paladin,” he stammered, and then he swallowed the bundle of nerves in his throat. Degger stood up straight; his eyes met Paladin’s--the familiar green eyes that took him in some years before when he had no where else to go, when the only shelter he had was underneath an old crate he and his brother once shared in a dark, rat-infested alley. Degger was barely thirteen years old then. Now he stood before that same benefactor on the verge of his twentieth birthday, embarking on young adulthood.

In the last seven years, Mr. Paladin did not rear a mealy-mouthed lad afraid of his own shadow. No, in fact, in the past year, Degger felt many things in his life had come together and began to blossom--things that were good. Degger suddenly stood tall, smoothed out the wrinkles in his waistcoat, then took a deep breath.

“Mr. Paladin, not--” Degger started again, then took his pocket watch out of his waistcoat pocket (more for procrastination). “Not ten minutes ago Mr. Pippin and I saw Miss This--I mean, Cousin Thistle an’ her sisters who told us that Mis--Aunt Layla was seekin’ t’ keep me here at Ivy Bellflower. I wanted t’ say that...that...” Degger felt his new-found confidence flagging, yet instantly he felt Pippin’s hand on his arm, which gave him the courage to go on. But his eyes filled with tears, his thoughts a swirl of emotions. The speech Degger had rehearsed in his head in the last few seconds had failed him. Even as he stood rooted where he was with Pippin beside him, Degger observed, in a rather disconnected manner, Mr. Paladin rise from his chair and walk toward him, arms outstretched.

“I don’t want t’ stay here--I want t’ stay with ye,” Degger sniffed as Paladin threw his arms round him and Pippin. Degger could feel Pippin giving him and affectionate hug as well.

“I want you to stay with us, too,” Pippin whispered.

“As do I!” Paladin said, then kissed each curly head in front of him. “I thought for certain you were going to choose Ivy Bellflower, Degger. I would have been heartbroken if you had.”

“Really?” Degger asked. “I was feart that ye were agreein’ with Aunt Layla.”

“I would not make that sort of decision for you and without your say-so. Standing up here had to have taken a lot of courage, Degger. I’m proud of you--I’m proud of you both. Now you and Pippin come over here and sit down.”

Layla gaped at her nephew in astonishment. “You would choose a distant cousin over an aunt and first cousins?” She looked toward Paladin, “He’s little more than a child--you would allow him to make such a decision?”

“Layla,” Rick stopped her ranting with a cold glare. “These distant cousins have been his family for the last seven years an’ now ye want t’ tear the lad away from all he’s known? If ye love Degger as much as ye say ye do, let him go. Ye can love him just as much while he grows up at Great Smials.”

Layla gave a defeated sigh. ““Very well. My daughters and I will be leaving tomorrow morning after second breakfast. Please be sure our carriage and driver are waiting.” With that said, Layla rose from her chair and left the room.

Rick watched his cousin depart and then in response to Paladin’s stunned expression, he said in a sarcastic voice, “Good riddance! I don’t mind’em visitin’--it gets the young lasses away from that toss-pot father o’ theirs, livin’ on the fat o’ his family’s purse. Layla does get on my nerves once in a while, though. She married a Hornblower for his money and has been ruin’ it ever since. I’m glad o’ yer choice, Degger--if ye had gone with her, they’d never let ye forget yer not a Hornblower.”

“I’m glad of his choice, too!” Pippin piped in. “I’m never going to let him forget he’s a Took!”

“Greenhill,” Degger kindly reminded his new-found cousin.

“Took.”

“Greenhill.”

“Took!”

Paladin grinned, “With that growing obstinate nature of yours, Degger, I believe I have to side with Pippin.”

Rick laughed along with the others, then asked, “Degger, may I have a look at yer pocket watch?”

Degger regarded Rick with a guarded eye. Degger had always been a bit protective of his precious keepsake. “Why?”

“Because without a doubt, that exceedingly valuable heirloom will be the final word that ye are indeed a Took.”

Paladin was taken aback. Everything that had transpired with Degger’s pocket watch last winter had been all but forgotten. “I would sooner like to know how you know it’s exceedingly valuable.”

Rick replied simply, “Because I happen t’ know it’s made of mithril.”

Degger nearly dropped the recently refurbished article as he handed it over to Rick. “Made o’ what?!”

Rick laughed again, then gave the watch a second look. “It’s made from mithril,” he repeated. “I haven’t seen this in ages,” he said wistfully. “But, no, this isn’t the proper lid--what happened t’ it?”

“I don’t know,” Degger answered, and now a bit shaken to know he’d been carrying around something so notoriously priceless. “I’d never seen it with a lid b’fore. I broke the watch last Foreyule, but Mr. Paladin got it fixed for me, an’ got a new lid for it, too.”

“I‘m sorry, Degger,” said Paladin, “I had meant to tell you at some point when I first discovered the truth about your watch, but that was right before Ferumbras became bedridden. And then with the whole deal of being Acting Took and Thain tossed in my lap, some things were simply driven out of my head.

“Gerontius, the Old Took, gave all of his sons a pocket watch and his daughters a diamond pendant upon coming-of-age. Each watch was unique with a particular object painted on the face and the same thing etched upon the lid. I inherited a watch just like yours from my father and grandfather that has a soaring eagle on the lid. Cousin Adelard, who inherited his watch the same way, has an oak tree on his. I have yet to see Cousin Ferumbras’, but I’ve heard his watch has the face of the moon etched on the lid.”

Paladin chuckled, “Now all of it makes sense! Your watch had to have belonged to Isembold, which he then passed down to his surviving son, Diggory. I suppose it stands to reason that Diggory, knowing its value, would give it to his eldest child regardless of gender. It’s nice to know that the watch ended up in the proper hands.”

“Uncle Digg gave it to Gayla when Taddie was born t’ be passed down t’ him when the time came. I reckon Wilby kept it for him after Gayla passed.”

“After our dad died, the watch did end up with Taddie,” Degger put in, taking up the trail of the pocket watch. “Then...well,” his eyes grew sad, “then the watch ended up with me.”

“That’s not such a bad thing, Degger,” said Pippin.

“Degger,” said Rick, opening up one particular volume of the book of Trees, “I’ll bet ye didn’t know yer real name isn’t Degger.” He waited for all of the gasps to settle down before continuing.

“Ye know, at this point, I’d believe anythin’,” said Degger. However, he still shook his head in disbelief.

Rick went on, “Only a few o’ us know about it, an’ most have gone t’ their grave with this secret, but actually, Degger, yer real name is Diggory--just like yer grandfather’s. Yer mum’s script was shoddy, at best. What we thought was an E on the birth certificate, was truly an I we later learnt. When yer mum heard we were all callin’ ye Degger , it caught her fancy, and so it stuck. But if ye look closely, ye’ll see a loopy E with a stray bit o’ ink over the top.”

All three took turns in looking at the erroneous certificate. Degger suddenly slapped a hand to his forehead and exclaimed, “Oy! There’s been so much change in my life on this trip that Mistress Tina won’t recognise me when we get home! I don’t recognise me! She might not set a plate for me at supper.”

That set the other three hobbits to smiling. Pippin slipped a sympathetic arm round his friend’s shoulder and winked, “Not to worry, Diggory--I’ll see that your food won’t go to waste!”

TBC

Not much more to go...

“Degger suddenly slapped a hand to his forehead and exclaimed, “Oy! There’s been so much change in my life on this trip that Mistress Tina won’t recognise me when we get home!” - Chapter 17

Chapter 18, In the Wake of a Storm

Degger rolled over in his bed, bringing the warm covers up round his ears to ward off the world for just a little while longer. Distant sounds became muffled and underneath the covers everything was dark. But also underneath the blankets, the air was stuffy, matching the growing heaviness Degger had been feeling in his heart of late. The lad made an air hole round his blankets for his nose to breathe in the cooler air. Yet to the nineteen-year-old hobbit, it all seemed simpler this way--to hide from his troubles. In truth, since his return to Great Smials a week ago, Degger had found it more and more difficult to rise from his bed in the mornings. The Sun, unfortunately, kept rising from her bed earlier and earlier, so last night Degger pulled the curtains shut round his windows in order to avoid her bright, shining face in the morning. It was too much cheerfulness for him to deal with. She seemed all too joyous these days during the newness of spring. Even the weather was getting warmer although Degger wouldn’t have known it first-hand, having cooped himself up in his bedroom for the past three days.

Today is the twelfth of Astron--Pippin’s birthday. Degger knew that Pippin, Merry, and Everard were all outside at this early hour having fun while kicking the soft leather ball round the garden. Degger turned over in his bed restlessly, hearing someone approach his bedroom door and knock.

“Degger?”

Degger slowly threw off his blankets to sit up. “I’m awake, sir.”

The door creaked ajar. Paladin peeked from round the door, seeing the young slim hobbit sitting on the bed with wild, dishevelled hair. “Degger, I sent Pippin in an hour ago to tell you that second breakfast was on the table.”

“He did, sir.”

“Then why didn’t you come?” Paladin watched the lad shrug his shoulders indifferently. He knew what was most likely behind Degger’s gloomy mood, and Paladin figured he probably made things worse by allowing the lad to wallow further in his misery the past few days. Well, if Degger wasn’t going to open up, then Paladin felt forced to make the first move.

“Get out of bed now, young hobbit, and wash up. When you are finished, I will be waiting for you in my office.”

This particular tone of voice Paladin would normally employ on Pippin or Merry to keep them in order, however, he never thought he’d ever have to use it with Degger, yet, at the moment, it seemed to be the only means to get the teen-ager moving and out of bed. Only when he saw the lad scoot to the edge of the mattress did Paladin shut the door to let him dress in privacy.

Degger, for his part, sat upon the edge of his mattress, a heaviness upon his shoulders. His mind travelled back to his journey the week pervious...

“And here,” said Rick, “is where yer grandfather and grandmother lived.” Degger followed his elder cousin into the darkened musty apartment. A layer of dust four years thick and a variety of cobwebs lay upon various surfaces and objects thereon. Large linen sheets had been thrown over stuffed chairs, couches and a round dining table near to the empty sideboard.

Holding a candle aloft, Degger silently walked throughout the room surveying the hallowed items that belonged to his late grandparents. Degger looked at every knick-knack, every shelf, and the little table near the hearth, then gradually made his way over to the bed and night table. His desire was to glean as much about his grandparents as possible without disturbing their belongings. When Degger came upon the night table he spied a book caked in dust laying upon the under-shelf, he did not touch it, but rather crouched down to blow a hard breath toward it.

“I still can’t read it,” said Rick, peering over Degger’s shoulder. He waved away dust particles flying in the air and nearly extinguished their light in the process.

Degger set the candle on the night table, careful to keep it away from anything that could spark a fire. He first wiped his sweaty palms on his breeches and then reluctantly picked up the book. He used a handkerchief to carefully wipe away the dust where he figured the title should have been.

“‘The Personal Journal of Diggory Took’,” the teen spoke barely above a whisper.

“Ye ought t’ take that home with ye, lad,” said Rick. “That belongs to ye now.”

Degger held the book close to his heart, heedless of the greyish-white residue that now graced his waistcoat. His thoughts were miles away....

Now, back at Great Smials and having dressed for the day, Degger peered into the mirror before him, water dripping from his chin. Well, I still look the same, he thought wryly. With a sigh, he grabbed the towel to dry his face then walked over to the window. He threw open the curtains, flinching at the bright sun climbing the morning sky.

His deed attracted the attention of a small group of lads kicking a leather ball outside in the garden. Merry and Everard immediately began play-wrestling with the byrding. Pippin wormed his way out from under his bigger cousins then ran up to the window, patting it with the palm of his hand.

“Come outside, Degger!” came Pippin’s barely audible voice from the other side. “It’s warm out here!”

Degger mournfully shook his head, then turned away. As he put on his waistcoat while walking toward the door Degger could hear his friends’ muted wonder at why he refused to join them outdoors.

It wasn’t far to walk to Mr. Paladin’s formal office, as it was only in the next tunnel over. Mr. Paladin, as Acting Thain, was still catching up with business from the time they had been away. As he approached he could see that the door was open. Stopping in the entryway, Degger knocked.

“Come in,” said Paladin, putting his quill-pen in the ink jar on his desk then slid his paperwork off to the side.

Degger entered the Thain’s office, feeling quite small while glancing at the elaborate furnishings all around the room. “Ye ordered me t’ come, sir.”

“Aye, I did,” replied Paladin, taking in a deep breath then let it out. “When we first returned to the Smials, Degger, you seemed fine. But for the last five days you’ve missed breakfast nearly every morning. Today is Pippin’s birthday and he wants to share it with you. You’re one of his closest friends. What has happened since our return to make you want to stay in your darkened room all alone?”

Degger shrugged his response.

“Sit down, please,” instructed the elder hobbit. Having a nephew that often kept his feelings closed helped Paladin to choose questions that should trigger an opening with this young charge. “Are you sleeping through the night?”

The teen sat down, his eyes focussed on the intricate design of the wooden desk. “Sometimes, sir.”

“Are you plagued with unsettling dreams?”

“No, sir.”

“Unsettling thoughts?”

Degger looked up, speaking in a soft voice, “Aye.”

“A lot of unanswered questions?”

“Lots o’ them, sir.”

Paladin nodded in understanding. “That sounds about right for a lad of your age dealing with the sort of concerns you have been confronted with recently. Will you tell me about the questions niggling at the back of your head?”

Degger blushed, his soft brown eyes returning to the carved patterns in the decorative panel of the desk.

“Degger, I cannot help you if you don’t open up to me.”

“Well....sir,” Degger whispered, then swallowed the rising lump. “Well...I wonder about thin’s. I don’t understand why...why.... Why couldn’t Taddie have a chance at seein’ all o’ this?”

Paladin rose from his chair and took the seat beside the lad who had become as much a part of the family this past year as Merry had when he was a young lad. He looked at the teen with love only a parent can render, taking Degger’s hand in his. “You blame Rick and your Aunt Layla for the bad things that happened to you and your brother and sister after your dad died?”

“I don’t blame’em for ev’rythin’,” said Degger, “but I think Taddie might be alive today if they didn’t give up lookin’ for us so easily. An’ I have trouble with that.”

“That’s understandable, but Taddie would not necessarily be alive,” Paladin replied. “Rick and your Auntie arrived in Michel Delving weeks after I had already taken you home to Whitwell. Taddie’s death wasn’t their fault--it was a tragic accident. For the sake of reasoning, let us say that Rick and Layla did find you children huddled in that alley before I did. They would have taken you back to live at Ivy Bellflower to literally be forgotten by the Tooks.”

Degger puzzled at Paladin’s words. “How could that happen?”

“Rick would have turned you three children over to your grandfather, Diggory. You might have fared nicely with your grandfather, but he was quite aged--so much so that his eyesight had already failed him. Diggory might have lingered a little longer for the sake of his grandchildren, but at 105, he was at the end of his days. And his sister Bettie is only five years younger than he. You three would have become orphans yet again and Layla would most assuredly have had her way at that time. She would have stolen you children away to Nobottle to be raised as Hornblowers, never to be recognised as the Tooks--or Greenhills--that you are.”

Degger paled as he listened to the faerie tale that could have come true. Paladin continued. “Think about it, Degger. You and Taddie were the last heirs, albeit indirect heirs, to Isembold’s family. Sadly, Taddie passed away, but now you are the last remnant. You were meant to be found, but not by Rick or Layla. And the only way the Tooks of Great Smials would ever know of Isembold’s heir was to bring Isembold’s family back into the fold, as it were. Cousin Ferumbras became ill, we discovered the brown box with Isembold’s family certificates, and then we set out in search of them.” Paladin grinned and added, “And in the process, we happened upon Isembold’s heir.

“But what is so important about bein’ an heir t’ Isembold? His branch is dyin’ out. Why couldn’t Tad be the heir?”

Paladin smiled. “You’re both heirs! Poor Tad’s accident was just that--a horrible accident, and now it is you who is the head of Isembold’s family. I should like to think that young Tad was meant to enjoy the same things as you if his misfortune hadn't got in the way. As for being Isembold’s heir, it’s always important to know where you came from. It helps you to understand where you’re going in the future. As an indirect heir, it isn’t all that important, however, if you were a direct heir, then you, not Addie or Reggie, would be next in line for being Took and Thain--that is, after Pippin. And that is very important to know.” Paladin genuinely laughed at seeing Degger’s eye widen in amazement.

Degger let out a sigh of relief. “Well I’m glad I’m not direct, then!”

“Don’t say that,” said Paladin. “One never knows what the future holds for them. You may never wear the medals of Office, but fate may have other plans for Isembold’s descendant. Either way, master Degger--your lineage has plenty of Took blood in it, and there is a way to honour your mother, grandfather, and great-grandfather, if you wish.”

* * * * *

“Look who’s finally decided to come outside and enjoy the Sun while she lasts!” laughed Merry.

“Hurry, Degger!” yelled Pippin, “She might see you and hide behind those white puffy clouds drifting in the north sky.”

Degger smiled at his friends. “Oh, aren’t we the clever ones o’ the bunch!” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“How are you feeling?” Merry asked.

Degger stood and surveyed the best of friends any lad could ask for. “I’m a bit better, thank ye. I just needed remindin’ o’ where I came from an’ where I’m goin’.”

An anxious look crossed Pippin’s face. “Where are you going? Back to Ivy Bellflower?”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Mr. Pippin,” said Degger. “Ye lot seem t’ be stuck with me for a while yet.”

Everard and Merry smiled. “I don’t consider it being stuck,” said Merry.

“Neither do I,” added Everard.

Pippin looked at Degger for a long minute then spoke up. “Me, neither,” he said. “Here, is where you belong.”

TBC

We’re almost done...

_{Pippin looked at Degger for a long minute then spoke up. “Me, neither,” he said. “Here, is where you belong.” - Chapter 18}

Chapter 19, In the Family Way

With a satisfied grin Paladin shuffled the papers before him, tucked them neatly inside a leather portfolio then laid it aside. In a little while that portfolio will be a key element in a momentous occasion. His customary meeting with the Thain this morning didn’t go exactly as he planned...then again, Paladin didn’t expect it to.

The Thain’s short-term memory barely functioned. However, Cousin Ferumbras could recall every detail about a particular Yule or one of his fondest memories of childhood. Consequently, this morning when Paladin presented the newest member of the Took clan to the incumbent Took and Thain, Ferumbras failed to retain the information regarding Degger and minutes later would ask why a servant was in attendance at their meeting. Pippin, who was with them, opened his mouth to speak his mind, however, Paladin stayed his son’s words with a gentle squeeze on his arm. Twice, the Took and Thain’s mind had wandered to places unknown and had to be coaxed back into the meeting. Realising they were getting nowhere with their infirm cousin, Paladin ended the meeting and eventually took his leave.

Sitting at his desk, Paladin’s thoughts went back Pippin’s heartfelt question as they returned to their own quarters.will be presented today.”

“Father, why does Cousin Ferumbras say things like that?” Pippin asked.

“Because he cannot help himself, Pip,” Paladin responded. “His mind is addled.”

Pippin furrowed his brow in thought. “I remember Mistress Besom saying his memory wasn’t as good as it once was, but he seemed to remember some things very well.”

“Some things, yes, but not all things. Before his accident, Ferumbras considered Degger nothing more than a servant, and, more than likely, always will. To change his way of thinking now will be very difficult indeed, if ever that could happen. In spite of what I know of our cousin’s illness, I still held out hope that Ferumbras’ faculties remained intact--even just a little for this occasion.”

“Now what do we do?” asked Pippin. “Degger still has to be presented, does he not?”

“He does,” said Paladin. “And I’ve an idea--later this afternoon I shall come and fetch you children from the parlour.” He looked at Degger walking sombrely beside him. “Degger

Just as Paladin was cleaning up his writing area, there came a knock at the door. He looked up to see his best friend.

“Hello, Addie!” he said, “You know you don’t have to wait for an invitation, dear cousin, so come right on in.”

“I like to maintain decorum, you know, regardless of our fellowship,” Addie replied to his friend in a light-hearted manner. “Everard gave me a message that you wished to meet with me?”

“Aye,” answered Paladin, “I should hope that you will attend a very special meeting this afternoon?”

Adelard raised his eyebrows in thought. “I had not planned on it, but if you like, I shall.”

“Aye, I would like it,” said Paladin. He sat back in his soft leather chair wiping the tip of his favourite quill-pen with a soft cloth and then placed inside his pen holder. “I should like to have another witness present, if you please.”

“You’re going to present him, aren’t you?”

“I am,” said Paladin. He smiled absently, then added, “Well, somebody is.”

“You and he had a long discussion the other day?”

“Yes, and we discussed many things,” Paladin replied. “One of which was today’s presentation. I felt it important and necessary--not only for him, but for everyone to know of what took place at Ivy Bellflower and acknowledge his rightful place in this family. Today is Degger’s birthday--and his party will be a splendid opportunity to present him to the rest of the Tooks.”

Adelard smiled, “I understand it will be a party of special magnificence?”

“He doesn’t even suspect!”

“Oh, come, Paladin!” said Addie. “I overheard him telling my Ev what a grand birthday feast you’ve ordered.”

“He knows about the feast, of course,” said Paladin, “I sent him on that errand to the kitchen long ago, but he doesn’t know about the party that follows.”

Addie chuckled, “After all of these years you are still a crafty hobbit.”

Paladin comically wiggled his eyebrows in response. “You know, I got some excellent ideas for his party from a very respectable source.”

“What very respectable source would that be?”

“Pippin.”

Addie laughed, “Very respectable, indeed! He’s exactly like his father.”

“Are you ready, then?” asked Paladin, purposely ignoring his cousin’s remark--no matter how truthful it may seem. Paladin prayed that whatever impact he had on his children, it was for good and not ill. He took up the portfolio to carry with him. “We have a brief stop to make at the parlour to gather the lads and then we shall proceed to the Thain’s formal office.”

Both hobbits stood and walked out of Paladin’s study door and into the hallway.

“How are they faring?”

“The lads?” Paladin shrugged indifferently. “They returned just after first breakfast this morning--and a little foot-sore, mind, but I don’t believe Frodo harmed them much with a wee ramble about the Green Hills. They were still famished at second breakfast.”

“A wee ramble? They were marching for two days! I’ll wager you got them out of the way so you could prepare the party in secret.”

“They left the evening before last, spent the night and yesterday outdoors, and then returned home this morning,” Paladin corrected his cousin. “And I’ll wager that you are quite right on your second point. Besides, the lads wanted to know if Degger had a greater amount of adventurous-Took blood in his veins than typical-hobbit Greenhill blood.”

“And which does he have?”

Paladin smirked in response. “He has both, you goose, but we shall soon see which one he is made more of.” Seconds later he and Addie stood in the doorway of the family parlour. Paladin announced their presence when he spoke. “Lads? Are you ready?”

Pippin looked up from the chess board he and Merry were playing on. Frodo casually glanced around the room to ensure those who needed to be were present. Frodo knew the importance of Degger’s meeting.

“Degger,” Frodo whispered to the sleeping form curled up next to him on the couch. Before Degger had succumbed to his weariness, he and Frodo were reading passages from his grandfather Diggory’s personal journal.

“Mmm..all right,” Degger answered drowsily then sat up wiping his eyes. “I’m awake, sir.”

“Oh come, Degger!” said Pippin, then winked at Merry, “We only walked about for a day or so. Perhaps we ought to get you out more often to get you into better shape.”

Degger winced as he stood upon his sore feet. “I’m all right, Mr. Pippin, though I don’t think I’ll ever be able t’ find my feet an’ ramble about the countryside as well as you, Mr. Merry, and Mr. Frodo do.”

“True,” Pippin remarked a bit smugly, “However, I suspect even Frodo’s starting to get a bit stiff in the legs, if you understand me.”

“Don’t overdo it,” Merry whispered earnestly to his young cousin then nudged Pippin’s shin with his foot under the game table. “Be easy on poor Degger,” he said aloud, “after all, this was only his first time out.”

Frodo could have sworn that he heard Degger mumble something about this outing having been his last. Nevertheless Frodo hid his grin; Degger had recently begun to show some real Took spirit. Besides, the lad had to know his friends were all having a jest with him. Frodo then turned his attention to his younger cousins, “And be easy on this poor cousin! Pippin, I’ll kindly ask you to keep my legs out of the conversation, if you please. They’re doing just fine, thank you very much.”

Paladin glanced round the parlour. “Pippin, where is your dress jacket?”

“I left it in my room,” Pippin answered his father.

“Go to your room at once and fetch it.”

Pippin brushed past his father in a dash to his room, all the while masking his face from the painful cramping he felt settling in his legs and feet. Pippin didn’t want to let Degger in on the jest too soon; timing was everything.

Laying a affectionate hand on Degger’s shoulder, Paladin asked, “Ready?”

Degger nodded while buttoning his jacket then slipped between the two adults through the doorway to walk beside the one person whom he knew loved and cared for him the most. Frodo and Merry followed in their wake, as Merry was to be a witness of events. The small group stood just inside the apartment hallway to await Pippin, for his tasks in this meeting was also to bear witness to events recounted at the Presentation in addition to being the presenter.

“Come along, Pippin,” Paladin said when his son returned after a brief wait, then gently ushered his son forward to walk with Degger. Before long, they were walking through the door of the Took and Thain’s formal office.

Once inside and settled in chairs, everyone awaited Paladin. The Acting Took and Thain sat down in the chair of office and opened the upper right-hand drawer of the enormous desk. Taking out a red leather wallet, Paladin untied the leather thongs then removed two large, round medals that symbolised their respective titled office. A ribbon made from silk had been run through a hole at the top of each medal to be worn about the neck by the titular head. The Thain’s ribbon was red, and the Took’s ribbon was yellow. Paladin placed the medal with the yellow ribbon round his neck.

“We are gathered here for the presenting of a new member of the Took family,” Paladin stated for all to hear. “The presenter will come forward.”

Pippin looked at his friends anxiously before he stepped up to the Thain’s desk; never before had he heard his father speak so ceremoniously. Until this moment, the young lad had never observed his father perform this particular sort of duty. Pippin secretly hoped that he wouldn’t be the one to make a silly mistake.

“State your name.”

Pippin hesitated for a mere second and then spoke up. “My--my name is Peregrin Took.”

“And whom is being presented to me?”

Pippin turned to Degger, motioning for the tween to stand beside him. “I bring Deg--, I mean, Diggory Greenhill, sir.” Pippin winced at his error.

Paladin had a twinkle in his eye, but kept a straight face. “Diggory, are you of age to speak for yourself?”

Degger started at the sound of his “new” name. “Aye, sir.”

The Took’s eyes softened, a slight smile played on his face. “Diggory, please tell us how you have claimed the name of ‘Took’.”

Degger was quiet for a long moment; Paladin let the lad fumble a bit for words before gently intervening. “Degger, this may all seem ostentatious to you, however, when one of your curious Took cousins asks you about your lineage or how you suddenly came by the name of Took, you need to be able to articulate your answer--and be resolute enough about it so that they do not take you to task over it. Do you understand?”

Degger swallowed hard then nodded. “Aye, sir.” The tween began his tale in Michel Delving and being discovered by a well-to-do visitor, then his voice grew stronger, more confident, concluding with the trip to Ivy Bellflower that ended a fortnight ago.

“Meriadoc and Peregrin--you both are of age to be witness in ceremonies such as this. You were present in Michel Delving seven years ago; do you agree with Diggory?”

Pippin and Merry both assented with “Yes, sir.”

“Peregrin, you were in Little Delving with Diggory, do agree with his account?”

“I do.”

Paladin surveyed the group before him as if studying them. “As do I,” he finally said. “I was at both places as well, however, as I am acting in an official capacity my testimony should be taken only if there were conflicting elements to De--, er, Diggory’s story.” Paladin looked at Pippin then smiled. “I deem that Diggory Greenhill be officially known henceforth as Diggory Took-Greenhill. He shall be head of his family and descendants from this day on. Does anyone contest my decision?”

The room was silent, but full of smiles.

“There are a few things for you to sign, Degger,” said Paladin, now putting off all formality. Here, he took out the papers he had placed inside the portfolio earlier. “Come, Degger. Sign here--you must sign your full and correct name...and then your birthday...”

“May I ask what this is?” asked Degger, noticing the document had seven signatures in red ink.

“It’s your adoption into the Took family,” Paladin answered, then laughed at Degger’s expression.

“Adopted?”

“Don’t you want to be adopted, Degger?” Pippin asked the lad.

Paladin didn’t know if perhaps he had misunderstood Degger the other day. “I’m sorry, I thought you’d be happy with being adopted as a Took.”

Degger, still gaping at the parchment replied, “I am happy...we talked about my presentation ceremony, but I don’t remember us talkin’ about me bein’ adopted.” The tweenager smiled wide, “I’m part o’ a real family now.”

Now Paladin understood; Degger was merely surprised, although happy of it. “Yes, you are!” he said with a laugh, pulling Degger into a hug, “and a very big family it is, too!”

Pippin, Merry, and Frodo all gathered round Degger to clap him on the back or embrace him.

“Wait, lads--let him sign his name first,” laughed Adelard, making his way over to the little crowd.

Continued...

_{“He knows about the feast, of course,” said Paladin, “I sent him on that errand to the kitchen long ago, but he doesn’t know about the party that follows.” - Chapter 19}

Chapter 20, Out of His Shell

Degger drank deeply from his glass of milk then sat back in his chair a very satisfied (and very stuffed) byrding. The cooks had made a delicious feast of pork roast with roasted potatoes and carrots, roast chicken, a variety of cooked vegetables, a large platter of steaming mushrooms, with cakes, pies, and apple dumplings for afters.

While he wiped his mouth with his napkin, Degger surveyed the array of happy faces around the table laughing or talking amongst those seated the closest. Degger sighed in contentment; he had survived teen-hood and was now a tween. And even better than that - Degger knew that he was where he belonged; once again he was part of a family who loved and cared for him -- and his sister.

“Are you all right, Degger?” Pippin asked the lad. He had been jesting with Merry who was seated on the other side of him, but paused to enquire about Degger’s pensiveness.

Degger nodded, a smile on his lips. “I am, thank ye,” he said, then his brow furrowed in puzzlement. “But what goes on from here?”

“Sorry?”

“We’re both finished with our studies,” Degger pointed out. “You have more studies t’ do later with bein’ Took and Thain, but what happens t’ me? Do I apply for apprenticeships now?”

Paladin had been quietly speaking with Eglantine, however, the couple interrupted their own conversation when they overheard Degger’s dilemma.

“Oh no, my dear!” said Eglantine then looked to her husband. “Not for a few years at least.”

“You are indeed a bit young for apprenticing, Degger,” said Paladin, taking up where his wife left off. “However, there is still much for you to learn and some may be done right alongside Pippin. Your studies did not end with Hemlock Academy, son.”

“More exams, sir?” Degger asked timidly.

Paladin smiled at Degger’s apprehension. “It won’t be the same as the last time,” he said, “but we will speak of this tomorrow; tonight we are celebrating. For starters, you shall go to your room with Pippin to fetch the gifts you plan on giving out for your birthday. We will meet you both in the parlour.”

“I can’t wait to see what you’ve got me!” Pippin said eagerly as he walked beside Degger down the hallway. “You do have a present for me, don’t you?”

“Of course I have a present for you!” Degger laughed as he opened the door to his room. He headed straight into his bedroom while Pippin stayed in the little sitting room and shut the door. Degger casually poked his head back into the sitting room. “Why did ye shut the door? We’re only goin’ t’ be here for a minute.”

Pippin replied, “You don’t want everyone to see inside your room, do you?” He tried his best to not let too much excitement show on his face.

“What would they see?” came Degger’s muffled voice from inside the bedroom. “Except tables, chairs, and a study desk.”

Pippin leant close to the door to listen for the footfalls of his family making haste to the Smials’ main parlour. He said to Degger, “They might see that speck of dust on your desk. You ought to get rid of it quick before Father locks you up in here until it’s clean.” Pippin’s sardonic remark referenced the matter of cleaning his own room before their trip to Little Delving; a feat which took three days to achieve.

Degger had indeed spent a considerable amount of time with Pippin and Merry over the past year; their temperaments seeming to rub off onto the young tween. Without missing a beat, Degger replied, “Then I shall send that speck o’ dust back t’ yer room, Mr. Pippin - right where it probably came from.” Degger’s silly grin was still on his face even after Pippin had swatted him with a chair-pillow. Degger turned this way and that, surveying his room. “I’ve got ev’rythin’. Are ye ready?”

“All right, let’s go to the parlour,” said Pippin leading the way across the hall.

“Where is ev’ryone?” asked Degger, taken aback at what he saw - or didn‘t see. He and Pippin stood in the doorway of the family parlour and was surprised that it was empty; Mr. Paladin and company weren’t where they said they’d be.

“I think I know where they are,” Pippin offered casually.

“Where could they be - and why would they go somewhere else?”

“We’ll find out why very soon,” said Pippin, again leading the way and with a satisfied grin on his lips.

It didn’t take long for Degger to figure out he and Pippin were headed toward the areas of the Smials where the common-rooms were located. In the centre of the Smial on the main floor was the common room - where residents could sit and relax among familiar relations, and the room next to it was the main parlour where guests were entertained or sometimes private parties were held. As the pair drew near to the door of the parlour Degger lagged behind.

“What’s wrong, Degger?”

“I hear voices!” the lad replied anxiously.

Instead of laughing at his friend’s odd behaviour, Pippin kept his composure. “Of course, we do! That’s where the family is.”

“Why here, Mr. Pippin?”

“Let’s go inside and we shall see,” said Pippin. He held out his hand for the new tween to enter first.

Degger approached the set of double doors apprehensively, his sack filled with gifts pressed up against his chest.

“He’s here!” Pearl’s voice rose above the others when she caught a glimpse of the lads out in the hallway. “Come inside Degger!”

As he obediently stepped forward, Degger spied a multitude of colourful ribbons affixed to the walls and the furniture inside the room. Degger had a hunch all along while he and Pippin walked here about a possible party, yet even so, he was still quite astonished.

“That’s a good lad,” Paladin smiled, coaxing Degger inside.

“Happy birthday!” everyone shouted at once and then clapped their hands.

“Me?” was all Degger could squeak, being overwhelmed by all the attention.

“Yes, you!” Merry laughed.

“Now what about our presents?” asked Pippin, arms folded over his chest and a sparkle in his eye. “We have a quarter hour before your guests start arriving.”

Suddenly, regaining his composure, Degger began passing round the gifts he had made for everyone. Each person received the same present: a bookmark made from shaved wood Degger had obtained from the Smials’ carpenter. He trimmed them to a rectangular shape and then painted each recipient’s name on it in his or her favourite colour. On Pippin, Merry, and Frodo’s bookmark, Degger managed to squeeze in a word or phrase that best described his favouritest cousins. Frodo’s bookmark read “Wise Friend”, Merry’s had “Compassionate Friend”, and Pippin’s bookmark read “Loyal Friend”.

For Mistress Tina and Mr. Paladin, Degger had written each a note and tied it to their bookmark with a thin ribbon. Eglantine began to untie the note from her gift but was urged by the byrding to not do so.

Degger leant in between both adults. “Please,” he beseeched in a low whisper, “read them later before ye go t’ bed.”

Everyone’s attention was drawn to the doorway where there stood two lads and a lass peering inside the parlour. They were Adelbert’s three youngest children, their ages ranging from eighteen to twenty-six.

“Look - the party guests are starting to arrive,” said Pippin. “Those are cousins Berlow, Marlow, and Ella Took.”

“Come, Degger...Pippin,” said Paladin, standing to his feet. He handed Eglantine his gift to keep for the moment then swiftly brushed the wrinkles out of his waistcoat. He then led Pippin and Degger to the door to show them how to receive party guests; this would be the first of many lessons for the lads in host etiquette.

Before long, more tween-aged cousins began to arrive and Degger was by now a practiced hand at receiving his guests. Most of the guests had arrived and the party was minutes from officially starting. Pippin noticed silhouettes around the corner...and then heard the voices.

“Uh-oh,” he said.

Degger looked to Pippin. “Uh-oh? Why?”

“I can hear cousin Ferdibrand,” Pippin answered, then leant closer to Degger. “And his sister is with him - Cousin Saffron.”

Degger nodded matter-of-factly; Saffron hadn’t been very kind to him in the past - nor to Mr. Pippin or Miss Pervinca. “She’s the one who’d pinch her nose whenever ye’d walk into a room with her, sayin’ ye needed t’ go outside t’ wipe the cow patties off yer feet. She’s the one who got Miss Pervinca in trouble last autumn for calling her a beak-nosed-toad-lipped-pimple-faced-goose egg -- even though Miss Saffron deserved it,” said Degger, adding in the last part. And she truly did; after all, it was Saffron who had angered Pervinca enough to say such a thing after sticking a piece of toffee sweet into her cousin’s long curly hair.

Pippin knew Saffron had taunted Degger on many occasions. “You forgot rat-haired,” he said with a wry grin. “But tonight we shall show our manners even to Saffron.”

“Of course we shall!” Degger responded sincerely, then turned toward the door in anticipation of his guests. “You’re a gentlehobbit an’ I’m learnin’ t’ be one.”

“Well, I suppose that’s true,” Pippin whispered to his friend, “but also because Mother and Father are watching us.”

“And so am I,” came Frodo’s soft voice behind Pippin, making the teen jump. Merry, who stood beside Frodo, smiled with satisfaction at his impish cousin’s reaction.

“Good evening, Diggory!” Ferdibrand formally addressed his host for the evening. He bowed and shook hands with the byrding, exchanged pleasantries for a bit, and then Ferdibrand’s attention went to his other cousins standing nearby. Saffron gave an imperceptive curtsy and then rudely tried to follow her brother into the parlour without so much as a “hello”.

Degger wasn’t going to make a fuss, however, Pippin loudly cleared his throat to gain her attention, but still Saffron almost clung to her brother in his wake.

“Cousin Saffron,” Frodo firmly, but kindly, addressed the young lass, “You have not greeted your host yet. I’m sure it was an accident.”

Saffron froze in her tracks while Frodo spoke to her, yet said nothing in response. All at once, the chattering and laughter all around the cousins ceased. All eyes were on the lass with dark, shoulder-length curls.

“Saffron!” Ferdie admonished his sister, “Either you behave like the lady Mother and Father think you are, or I will escort you back home this instant. Degger is a friend of mine; you will give this gentlehobbit the respect he is due.” Ferdie leant toward Saffron, “And you won’t see your arrogant friend Darria for a very long time, either.” Darria was yet another Took-relation living in Great Smials who found a kindred spirit in Saffron. Together they roamed the tunnels taunting the “lesser” cousins - or servants aspiring to be more than they should be.

Saffron winced when she heard her brother’s last remark; she knew Darria had received an invitation and desired to see her best friend. Saffron then appropriately curtsied to Degger, but remained stoic. “Thank you for inviting me to your party, Mr. Greenhill.”

“My name is Took-Greenhill, thank ye,” Degger corrected her; his self-assurance taking everyone by surprise. “I am pleased that ye came,” he said, and then bowed.

Saffron and Degger locked eyes as if in a battle of wills. Many times Saffron would stare down at Degger after teasing him, and being that he was a servant and she was upper class, it was Degger who averted his eyes in capitulation. This time it was Saffron who first looked away and then sought out a corner of the room to sulk in. However, Degger did not take pleasure in this triumph; instead he pitied her.

Nonchalantly, the new tween turned to his waiting friends, “Why don’t we all go an’ get a glass o’ punch?”

The gaping blue, brown, and green eyes slowly blinked back to life.

“Yes, let’s do.”

“Punch sounds lovely.”

Yes...Degger was learning and growing by leaps and bounds. He’d be just fine.

THE END!!!

(*finally*!)

A/N: There was supposed to be an Epilogue posted later this week, but I think this ends it much better. And there is a Part II that goes with this tale also, however, Degger is begging for a reprieve. He’s tuckered out from all of the attention and wishes Pippin or Merry (or both!) to take the stage for a while.

Thank you to all who have been extraordinarily patient with me over the past nine months or so and have been ever so kind to drop a line or two and tell me how much you’ve enjoyed the story. I am used to updating at a MUCH quicker pace so I apologise for the huge gaps between the latest ones. Garnet Took was so kind as to give me a boost of encouragement through this last chapter; and I know some of you would have done the same if we had regular phone conversations, lol. After I committed to the party chapter, I suddenly realised that I’d be rehashing elements I felt I had already addressed, which annoyed my Muse, so she went off back to Mississippi to play the Slots. Then she had the nerve to come back empty-handed!

Thank you all so much for reading Fate and Destiny.