Hullo!  I’ve come out of hiatus for one short story.  Actually, I didn’t intend for my hiatus to last this long, but RL has a way of intruding for extended periods of time.  Who knows?  I may post another story later in the year.

This story was written for my dear friend, Grey Wonderer, as a Yule-fic Exchange.  Happy Yule, GW!  Hope you like it.

Bear with me; my Muse is quite out of shape and a bit rusty.  As always, I’m no professional writer; I merely tell a tale as best I can while getting a kick out of writing it.  My grammar sucks but I enjoy my hobby, lol.

On a side note, I once wrote a story for Marigold’s Tale Challenge way back in 2005, I think.  It’s titled, “There’s Always Hope”.  Although this Yule story stands on its own, if you can find “Hope”, Degger’s storyline there might accent his storyline in the Yule tale.  If I can locate “Hope”, I’ll post a link to it here.

Happy New Year!  Enjoy!

Thanks to Grey Wonderer for searching the Challenges!  Here is the link:

http://talechallenge25.livejournal.com/1478.html

Great Smials, Yule 1, 1423*

“Fancy meeting you here!” said the young hobbit, hobbling under the covered entrance to the home he had known since childhood.

“Fancy, what?” Pippin shot back in an amused tone, his breath turning to frosty puffs in the cold, outside air.  “The Thain’s heir is standing at the main doorway to the Great Smials greeting important Yule guests, Degger.  Where else would I be?”

“Pilfering Yule biscuits from the larder comes quickly t’ mind,” Degger replied with a grin. 

“That was yesterday,” said Pippin, nonchalantly.

“That was this morning!”  Both hobbits shared a laugh.

Pippin waggled his eyebrows at his cousin. “She’s here, Degger!” he said in a sing-song voice.

Degger carefully restrained his excitement, calmly unbuttoning his coat, loosening his scarf, taking off his hat and gloves before he entered the smials.  Hobbling was hard work, and he was already overheated from the exertion of walking from the stables.  But none of that mattered; his beloved had finally arrived for Yule.  “Did she look well for all the travel?” he asked, no longer able to hide his smile of genuine love.

“She did.  She travelled in the company of Pervinca’s family, and wore a smile on her face that rivalled yours just now,” Pippin answered, beaming.  He stopped abruptly when Degger suddenly froze, a look of terror on his countenance. 

“Hold these, please,” said Degger, hastily shoving the contents of his hands into his younger cousin’s arms. He leant on his cane while checking every pocket.

Pippin watched silently as Degger patted down his coat, obviously in a search.  “Forget something?” he asked at length.

“Aye!” came Degger’s breathless reply, still patting his coat.  The expression on his face conveyed utter disbelief.  “Oh, please...no!”

“Oh, no, what?”  If he only knew what it was his cousin sought, perhaps he could help in some way.

“I must have left it at my office!”

“Left what at your office?”

“My gift!”

“Don’t trouble yourself tonight over a Yule gift, my dear Degger,” said Pippin, relieved it wasn’t something valuable. “It will still be there tomorrow.”

“You don’t understand,” said Degger, taking back his hat and gloves.  “I must go back!”

“Are you mad?” Pippin admonished.  “It’s already begun to snow – it will soon be treacherous to travel.”

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Degger answered, “It’s my betrothal gift.”

“Oh,” was all Pippin could muster in response.  After a moment he tried to comfort his friend, “Why can’t you propose after Yule, before she departs for home?”

“Now you’re the mad one,” answered Degger as he retightened his scarf, buttoned up his coat, and slipped on his gloves.  “How could I be so stupid t’ forget something so important?  It was the reason why I set out t’ the office in the first place.”

“What pushed the gift out of your mind, I wonder,” said Pippin.  It was true; Degger rarely forgot anything when it came to his family. 

“I was in haste t’ make yet another copy o’ Draco Bracegirdle’s marriage certificate,” replied Degger.  “He saw me through the window and thought I was open for business.”  Letting out a disappointed sigh, he added, “I suppose forgetting the gift was inevitable when I decided t’ keep it there until the last possible moment.”

Pippin winked at his friend, “I don’t think Draco truly wants to get married.  That’s the third time he’s asked for a copy.”

“Well, he’d better decide soon; he’s got a fortnight before his fate is sealed,” said Degger, looking up at the gloomy, grey sky.  “And I’ve not a moment t’ lose.”

“Degger,” Pippin charged his departing cousin. “It’s snowing, and it will be dark soon – if you must go, go carefully.”   Pippin had seen a snowstorm or two in his travels, and thus worried for his friend.

Back at the stables, Degger had his pony saddled then rode straight for Tuckborough.  Riding the few miles to town wouldn’t take long...as long as the weather held up.  The falling snow had eased, yet Degger pled in his heart for safe travel.

*Thank you to Garnet Took for catching my year error!

“Are we all here?” asked Thain Paladin II, pride swelling his heart at having such a large family present at his private Yule dinner.  Intimate family dinners on Yule 1 were tradition at Great Smials.  His lovely wife, all of his beautiful daughters and their families were gathered round his table, and certainly not least of all, Pippin, his son and heir.  Having Come of Age earlier this year, Pippin officially sat to his right.  Merry, his nephew, sat to Pippin’s right.  Merry was a very special guest this year, representing his own father, the Master of Buckland.  Yet... someone was missing.  At ninety years old, Paladin’s bones were stiff and his head of dark curls were now fully grey with age, but he assuredly was not addled.

“Where is Degger?” he asked aloud.

“Pearl and I last saw him this morning,” Pimpernel answered. “He said he had an errand to run in town.”

“That was just after elevensies, Father,” Pearl added to affirm her sister’s report.

“I have yet to see Degger,” said Merry.  Noting his younger cousin, sitting beside him, was being extraordinarily quiet.  “Pip?”

Pippin tightened his lips, but realised all eyes were now on him.  “I saw him over an hour ago.  He left something at his office and had to return to fetch it.”

“Had to?  By himself?” Paladin asked dubiously.  “Son, you’ve seen the weather outside, didn’t you stop him?”

“I tried to, Father, but he was determined.”

Paladin rubbed his temples in frustration.  His heir was now 33 years old – could it be that his former tween behaviour had followed him into adulthood?  The grandchildren began to squirm in their seats, eager to taste the delectable holiday fare they had waited all day to eat.  “Everyone, please begin the meal.” 

Paladin’s customary Yule Wish to his family was tangled for a moment inside his head while distraction attempted to take over his reasoning.  The gradual hum of many conversations around the table aided the elder hobbit to capture one thought.  Paladin knew exactly what should be done and as soon as possible, but perhaps this incident could be used as a lesson to help prepare his son to become head of their family, as that day was not so far off now.  He turned to Pippin.

“What will you do?” he asked Pippin.

Pippin was taken aback at his father’s sudden question at the dinner table, but only for a second.  His time in Minas Tirith had honed his own reasoning skills to a higher level.  “I shall...,” he began, and then rose from his seat.  Going to the dining room window, Pippin could see that the snow had returned with a vengeance.  He saw snow rising in drifts across the gardens and fields in the distance.  His heart sank to his toes. 

Pippin returned to his chair, though he did not sit down.  “I will go at once, Father.”

“To town -- alone?” asked Paladin.  “I think not.”

“It isn’t a far ride to Tuckborough.  Degger should have returned by now, or at least to the stables,” said Merry, “and then he would have sent word to us directly.” 

Although he had been silent, Merry had been following the “lesson” his uncle aimed at his cousin.  His own father would often do the same to him in preparation to be Master of the Hall.

“I am the one who let him go,” Pippin said earnestly, “and thus I must be the one to find him.”

“You mustn’t go alone,” said Merry.  He quietly whispered in Estella’s ear, and then rose from his seat to join his cousin.

The conversation had piqued the ears of a few others around the table.  Merimas spoke softly to his wife, Pervinca, and then stood beside his cousin.  “I agree with Merry,” he said.

Pippin gave a nod to the pair.  He turned to his father, using the poise he had attained while in Gondor.  “The three of us shall go to the stables first, and then if he isn’t found there, we shall follow the main road to town until we find Degger.”

The trepidation Paladin felt for his son just a few minutes ago was gone.  With a firm nod, he assented to his son’s plan.  “Have a care whilst you go,” he said, addressing all three.  “I don’t want to answer to your father, Merry.”

Merry had a wry grin as he replied, “You won’t have to.”

As Pippin passed by, Paladin gently took his son’s arm, speaking only to him. “You’re doing the right thing, Pip, as I knew you would.”

Degger blinked his eyes open.

His face was cold, wet. 

How... ? 

Ah, yes.  The branch was too low; he didn’t see it until it was upon him.  Fortunately, his reflexes were quick enough to grab hold of it, rather than be swept off his saddle and thrown to the ground.  Nothing could be worse than that for someone who already had a lame foot and arm.  No, instead he grabbed the tree branch...and then hung in the air for what seemed an eternity...before his one-armed grip slipped on the icy bark and dropped him six feet to the waiting snow.

He remembered the events!  That elevated Degger’s spirits a little.  He had learnt from his post-battle recovery that recalling what happened before losing consciousness is good sign.  To this day, he has no remembrance of what happened before his battle injuries, other than what his friends have told him.  Today, though, he had been stunned by the fall, but he didn’t black out.  This is good news! 

When Degger made an attempt to sit up he felt a familiar stab in his left side during the effort.  Well, I have been stunned, and it appears I’ve cracked a rib.  What else have I done t’ myself?

He allowed a minute or two to pass before trying to use his good foot to stand up.    Another jolt of pain! 

Degger lay back into the cold snow, almost in tears, his left foot throbbing.  “Oh, no... ,” he lamented aloud.  “Now I’ve gone and broke the other one.  She won’t want me like this.”

I can’t get t’ my feet, and I’m stranded here on the open road.  At least I have her gift!  But now...no one will see me on the road in the dark; everyone is attending Yule feasts.  Degger knew Pippin would eventually remember that he was out here and would miss him... but when?  He’ll be caught up in all the Yule festivities.  I can’t blame him.  I hope he – or someone -- comes to claim me soon, Degger said in his thoughts, and then closed his eyes to await his doom.

                                                      ~ * * * * * * ~

Pippin halted in the middle of the road; in the glow of a distant lamp he saw a dark figure lying face down in the snow.  He sent a shrill whistle up into the air before urging his pony into action, hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t who he feared it might be.

Jumping down from his pony as he approached the prone figure, Pippin noticed the long trail of flattened snow the person had left in their wake, as if he (or she) had been desperately crawling toward something.  He instantly recognised the dark blue fur lined cloak and the black coat that peeked out from underneath.  Kneeling down beside his friend, Pippin brushed off the dusting of snow that had since fallen.

“Is that you, Pippin?”

The voice was muffled and unquestionably weak, but it was certainly Degger’s.  There was no doubt now.

“I’m here, Degger,” said Pippin, stroking the flushed cheek of his cousin’s face.  “We’ve come to take you home.”

“Is it warm at home?  I’m so cold.”

“It is very warm at home,” Pippin replied softly.  Looking up, Pippin saw the covered sledge round the bend with Merry holding the reins and Merimas sitting beside him.  “Hurry, Merry!” Pippin shouted, “I think delirium has set in.”

Merimas insisted on looking over the patient before they carried him into the sledge.  He and Merry removed Degger’s soaked coat and cloak, and then wrapped him in the thick blankets they had brought.  “I’ll examine his fingers and toes after we get him inside,” he said.  “Have a care for his rib,” he said as they lifted the injured hobbit.

“I’m not delirious,” said Degger, as he lay upon one of the benches inside the sledge.  After examining his toes, Merimas determined that Degger’s ankle was badly sprained, but not broken; however, the rib was definitely cracked.

“Maybe not delirious, but he’s completely daft,” Merry was quick to respond.  “What was so important that you couldn’t wait until the weather cleared up?”

“This,” said Pippin none too happy, holding up a bottle of wine. “I found it in your saddlebag.”

Merry looked at it in disgust.  “Please tell me you didn’t risk life and limb over a bottle of wine.”

“Of course not,” said Degger, feeling a bit warmer, and rather insulted at the implication.  “I said t’ you, Pippin, that I forgot my betrothal gift.  Draco gave me the wine as payment for the third copy o’ his marriage certificate, an’ I merely thought t’ bring it home with me.”  Degger actually intended to open it at the wedding... if there would be one. “Someone hand my coat to me, please.”

Degger reached for his coat, yet the hand that rendered it was slim and feminine.  And Degger wasn’t the only one flabbergasted.  “Mellie,” he said, though Degger was unsure if he should be embarrassed or elated.

“Mel, what are doing here?” Merimas demanded of his youngest sister.

Unabashed, Melilot stepped into the light of the lantern that streamed through the compartment window.  The soft, brown ringlets that earlier at dinner had been pinned up behind her head now cascaded about her shoulders.  “Did you seriously think that I was going to wait at Great Smials for word of Degger?”

“Yes, I did think that,” Merimas said sternly.

“Well, I wasn’t going to,” she replied with equal fervour.  Then turning to the amazed, and half frozen hobbit lying on the bench, she asked, “Is it true, Degger? You risked your life for my betrothal gift?”

Degger sat up and watched as the other lads rolled their eyes.  “I didn’t see it as risking my life, but my plan t’ propose t’ you tonight was of utmost importance t’ me.  You’re all I can think about of late.  I want t’ think of no one else for the rest of my life.”  At this, he reached inside the inner pocket of his coat, bringing out a small leather pouch.  He still trembled a bit from the cold.  “Will you marry me?”

Hearing Degger’s revelation, Melilot’s eyes filled with loving tears. “Oh, yes!  You’re shivering,” she said.  Taking off her own coat, she slipped inside the blanket Degger held about his shoulders.  She watched silently as he emptied the contents into the palm of his hand.  It’s was a silver necklace with a garnet stone inside a silver teardrop pendant.

Merimas, Merry, and Pippin all sat on the other bench in the sledge, gaping at what was transpiring before them.

“It isn’t as if we didn’t know they were in love,” Merimas whispered to his companions. “He asked our father for her hand in marriage the last time your family visited the Hall, Pippin.  And he gave his blessing without reserve.  I certainly approved as well.”

“Perhaps we ought to give them a moment of privacy,” offered Merry.  He’d been through this ritual with Estella and was glad there had been no prying eyes about.  Merimas might not be as approving in a few short minutes.

“I don’t think so,” said Pippin.  “If our cousin is brave enough to do this in front of his friends, then his friends should sit here and support him.”

“Be supportive, or nosey?” Merry asked sarcastically.  Pippin didn’t answer, but merely watched the situation going on across the compartment.

Melilot observed Degger struggling with the clasp of the pendant and turned to assist.

Use your left hand, Pippin urged his friend in his thoughts.

“I got it,” Degger said softly, when he saw his intended turn to help.  Smiling at his achievement, he gave a wink to Pippin as he re-clasped it around his beloved’s neck.

When Melilot turned again, it wasn’t to help Degger.  It was to kiss him fully and passionately on the lips.

“Well!  Time to go back to the Smials,” said Merimas rather hastily, pushing Merry towards the door.  “You drive.”  Merry looked at his cousin with amusement.  “Somebody has to stay here and chaperone,” Merimas quickly added.

“Are you warm, Degger?” asked Melilot, her head leaning upon Degger’s shoulder.

“Very warm, indeed.”

~ The End ~

Thank you for reading

Gray Wonderer found the link to "There's Always Hope"

http://talechallenge25.livejournal.com/1478.html

Thanks, GW!