Chapter 1. Message from the King

~ This story takes place in the Shire in late March of S.R. 1442, during the time that Samwise and Rose Gamgee, along with their oldest daughter Elanor, travelled to Gondor, as chronicled in the Tale of Years. Faramir Took is about to turn 12, and Goldilocks Gamgee has recently passed her 11th birthday. ~

It was teatime, and the Mayor’s family (at least, all those who had stayed behind when Sam travelled to Gondor with his wife and eldest daughter) were to take tea in the Thain’s private apartments. They had said goodbye to their parents at the Gate of Buckland nearly two months earlier. Their sojourn, while parents were away, had started with a month at Brandy Hall, and then they had moved on to visit the Thain and his family at the Great Smials. They’d been at the Great Smials for nearly a month now. The plan was for them to spend the next month at Cottons’ farm, and then go on to Buckland to await the travellers’ return.

But word had come from Buckland just a little earlier, a message from Gondor!

Young Faramir Took imagined the passage of that message, all the way from the hand of the King to the hand of the Thain. It helped that he had travelled to Gondor himself, and more than once, in his young life. He had actually seen the hand-off of one urgent message just as his family had arrived at one of the King’s outposts along the Greenway. How thrilling it had been! The call of a silver horn, floating on the breeze; the sudden flurry of action on the part of the guardsmen who’d been greeting the arriving hobbits; the powerful horse coming quickly into sight, surging up the Road; the hand-off of the leather bag to the next Messenger, waiting and ready; and at last, the thrilling gallop away, at top speed!

Farry had wondered long at the contents of that message pouch, on its way to the Lake, to the Steward of the Northern Kingdom, as the King was at that time in Gondor. His father had made a jest about the difficulties of a united divided Kingdom – but Farry had thought only of the thrill of riding fast, fast as the wind, bearing important news. For some time after, he’d dreamed of being a Pony Post rider. The reality of it was that he’d follow his father as Thain… if only his father should live long enough for Farry to reach his three-and-thirtieth year.

Farry would give up all his dreams, and take on the Thainship, and happily, if it only meant long life for his father. He’d lived all his life in the shadow of the fear of death – thanks, or perhaps no thanks, to the gossip he’d overheard at a young and tender age. Pippin, nearly crushed by a troll in the Outlands, his breathing further compromised by a bad bout of the Old Gaffer’s Friend* and lingering injury from an accident, lived life as fully as his constrained lungs would allow – more fully than a lot of hobbits of the Shire, Farry thought (even at his young age, but he had the right of it).

But the simplest thing could carry his father off, or so he’d heard. A lungful of smoke or dust, or even something as minor to most hobbits as a cold in the head that became a cold in the chest… Farry had watched the healers closely watching his father, even though they might think they were being circumspect. He’d seen a few of his father’s frightening bouts with breathlessness, and heard of more, though never directly – more from lurking quietly and listening to the grown-ups talk. Even though they were fond of saying Little pitchers have big ears! they were not always so careful about observing caution in their Talk.

…but little Forget-me-not was regarding him with serious eyes and a quivering lip, as if she could sense his distressing thoughts. Farry put on as big a grin as he could and tickled her until she squealed, and then he hugged her tight to quieten her, so that Thain and Steward would have no need to hush them.

The Message had come from Gondor at top speed, borne by King’s Messengers all the way to the Gate of Buckland and Brandywine Bridge, and from thence to the Great Smials by Pony Post. Farry had been playing on the hearthrug before the fire in the Thain’s study, amusing his younger brother and sister. They’d come to escort their father to tea, but Pippin had a matter of business to finish before he won free of his desk, and so he was in quiet discussion with Regi, his Steward, when a sharp rap sounded on the door and the escort on duty opened the door to say, ‘Pony Post, sir! Directly from the hand of the King, he says!’

‘Well then!’ Regi said, getting up from his seat to take the message from the Post rider’s hand and bring it to Pippin. ‘Direct from the hand of the King! What could it mean?’

Pippin slit the fancy-looking envelope and shook the message out of its folds, scanning quickly down the page, with the eyes of everyone on the room on him. He quickly relaxed, and somehow it was as if everyone exhaled at the same time to see it. Not bad news, then…

Looking up, he said, ‘Well, Regi, it seems the Mayor will be staying in the Southlands for some time longer than he’d originally planned.’

‘Not bad news, I hope,’ Regi said. ‘He hasn’t broken his other leg, or anything?’

Pippin laughed. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Seeing how he broke his leg on my account, earlier, and how I’m not there in Gondor with him,’ and he looked hard at Regi from under his eyebrows, as if to say it was the Steward’s fault that he had not travelled to Gondor in the Mayor’s company, ‘why, he has no good reason to break his other leg, now, does he?’

‘None of your nonsense, now, lad,’ Regi said automatically, and Pippin laughed again, and Farry smiled and tickled young Merigrin until that little one chortled with glee.

‘No, but it’s good news, and I’ll be happy to share it at tea. Would you and Rosa like to join us?’

‘You’ll have a table full already, with the Mayor’s family,’ Regi demurred.

‘The more, the merrier, that’s what I always say! I’ve always wanted to make up one gross at tea in the best parlour, or even second-best, as Bilbo did at his infamous Party,’ Pippin said, and held up a finger in the face of Regi’s anticipated, “None of your nonsense!” ‘Well, I have! Still,’ he said with a sigh, ‘I suppose I’ll have to give up on that dream at least, seeing how a gross of hobbits would have to be stacked like cordwood to fit into any of the parlours. They’d fit in the Great Room, of course, but what would be the fun of that?’

Regi took a deep breath, obviously suppressing the sentiment he wished to express. Three none-of-your-nonsenses in a row would be two too many. It was obvious that the news, whatever it might be, had put the Thain into high good spirits, and far be it from him to squelch the hobbit. As it was, he really did want to know what good news could keep the Mayor longer in the Southlands. Four or five months (two months there, and two back, with a month or so in the White City itself) was more than long enough for Mistress Gamgee to be away from her younger children, as it was.

‘Very well,’ was all he said. ‘We’ll be happy to join you.’

***

*Author's Note: "Old Gaffer's Friend" is a Shire term for pneumonia.

Chapter 2. Taking the Good with the Bad

On good days, Farry’s father would walk from his study to the Thain’s apartments, with the help of his sturdy Stick, and with two cousins flanking him, to steady him if necessary. The Thain’s study had once been connected to the Thain’s apartments, but some time ago, the Steward had arranged for one of the best parlours, with a panoramic view of the Green Hills, to be made over into a study for the Thain. This was inconvenient, in that the Thain or his family members had to walk from the depths of the Great Smials, where the Thain’s apartments were kept, to the face of the great cliff that overlooked the Smials courtyard, to reach the study, or vice versa.

But Pippin was fond of saying that the view was worth any amount of inconvenience, and as Diamond could deny him nothing (or practically nothing), she did not begrudge the exercise necessary to consult her husband on the smallest matter, during the hours he was to be found at his desk.

On days of dreary rain, or bone-chilling cold (the damp kind, that makes a body feel chilled and achy all over), the Thain suffered his servants or cousins to carry him from one place to another. Not for him was a wheeled conveyance, the likes of the kind that Mistress Lalia had used in her time. No, not with his own sister accused of neglect, or worse, in the matter of Lalia’s death, when her wheeled chair had somehow bumped over the threshold of the Great Door, causing the old hobbit to tumble down the steps to her death. Pearl had been her attendant at the time, and the Talk had assigned the blame to her, ever afterward. For the world, Pippin would not remind his beloved Pearl of that terrible time.

On this day, Pippin laid aside his pen, which he’d been using to scratch figures and calculations as he and Regi had talked, and stretched. ‘That’s a good day’s work,’ he said. ‘Come now, Regi, it’s time for tea. The work will still be there on the morrow, whether we work past teatime, or no.’

‘I vote no,’ Ferdibrand said from the doorway. ‘I was just coming to fetch you away, cousin. Diamond charged me most earnestly to separate you from your desk in time for tea.’

‘Well then,’ Pippin said. ‘Who am I to stop you? I would hate for you to run afoul of my dear wife!’

‘As would I,’ Ferdi said. ‘Your Diamond is not one to run afoul of. Or do I mean, “of whom to run afoul?” Or…’

‘Not one of whom to run afoul, rather!’ Pippin said, seeming pleased at the wordplay.

‘Be that as it may,’ Ferdi said severely, with a significant glance at the clock. ‘We are running the risk of running afoul, the longer we discuss the matter.’

Pippin threw up his hands. ‘Spare me!’ he said, and then put his hands down, to brace himself as he rose from his chair with an effort. The adults in the room – Regi and Ferdi – took care not to notice how much it cost him, but the children, of course, cheered this sign that the work day was ended and family time about to begin.

‘Hurrah!’ Farry said. ‘Teatime at last!’ The twins, for their part, chortled and clapped their fat little hands.

‘At last, is it?’ I suppose you’re hungry!’ Pippin grunted, and then he sighed in relief as he gained his balance on his one good leg.

‘Always!’ Farry said with a laugh, gaining his own feet and extending his hands downward, one for each twin, that he might help them toddle along, at least until some larger hobbit in the corridor succumbed to their charm and picked them up, to carry them homeward.

‘Aw-ways!’ echoed little Forget-me-not, and Merigrin gave an emphatic nod while adding his own, ‘Uh-huh!’

Regi moved quickly to Pippin’s side, without appearing to hurry, and Ferdi just as casually took his place on the other side, proffering Pippin’s heavy walking stick. Pippin took his stick in hand and leaned heavily on it, while Regi moved the Thain’s chair out of his way. Farry watched, without appearing to watch, and breathed a little easier as his father slowly began to make his way to the door, Regi and Ferdi flanking him in case he should falter.

It was one of the good days.

Chapter 3. Momentous News

Tea in the Thain’s sitting room with eleven Gamgee children, along with the Thain’s family and the Steward and his wife and children, was something of an organised bedlam. Of course the older were used to helping the younger, and Diamond delighted to hold little Robin on her lap, and was his delighted slave as he pointed to the various items of food on their shared plate. Pippin and Diamond’s twins sat in high chairs between Pippin and Farry, since Diamond was fully occupied, and little Ruby Gamgee sat on a high chair between Frodo and Rosie-lass Gamgee. Regi the Steward and Rosa, his healer-wife, had their littlest one in between them, and a small child to each side, and though they were rather crowded, with so many around the table, they were used to managing their own little ones, not relying (like so many in the Great Smials) on nurses or minders, except in extraordinary circumstances when both were called away at the same time. The rest of the Gamgee children were old enough to manage themselves without much worse than an upset teacup or dropped biscuit.

Still, it was a noisy, happy crowd – and, it seemed, a hungry one as well, for platter after platter was emptied and replaced by the efficient servers, without even the necessity of a word from the Thain or nod from Mistress Diamond. There was much food going in, and much talk and laughter coming out, and quite a festive occasion – for it was something of a farewell party, with the removal to the Cottons’ looming over them.

Merry-lad and Pippin-lad were deep in plans with Farry for the latter to make a visit to the farm during their stay there. This was such a pleasant occupation that Farry had quite forgotten the message from Gondor – and even if he had remembered, he knew better than to hint at such a thing. It was not his news to tell, but his father’s, after all!

Goldi and Hamfast were in a contest to see who could eat the most dried-cherry tarts, and Frodo-lad and Rosie-lass were quite occupied with little Ruby, who was cutting a new tooth and thus off her feed, needing a fair amount of coaxing and tempting. Daisy and Primrose were busy dividing each scone they took from the platter into tiny pieces and carefully buttering each one, and young Bilbo was quite taken with Regi and Rosa’s six-year-old Rue, sitting beside him.

‘Good thing Ferdi’s not here this afternoon,’ Pippin said behind his hand to Diamond, with a wink. ‘He’d be making a match for certain!’

‘They’re much too young!’ Diamond protested under her breath.

Pippin twinkled. ‘That's never stopped him before,’ he said with a meaningful look from Faramir to Goldilocks, and then to his wife.

Diamond kicked him under the table. ‘Stop that!’ she said.

Pippin merely smiled and sipped his tea.

At last, when he determined that everyone was starting to slow down – the latest platters of tea sandwiches and teacakes and sweet biscuits had remained at half-full for some moments, rather than rapidly diminishing as they had been up to this point – the Thain cleared his throat. As Farry and Pip-lad and Merry-lad were laughing uproariously over some planned prank, the sound went rather lost in the hubbub. Pippin cleared his throat again, rather louder, and as there was a short burst of silence in the same moment, Rosa looked up sharply, her healer’s instincts roused.

She relaxed again, as the Thain said, ‘Ah, then. Now that I have your attention…’

‘A speech! A speech!’ cried several of the young Gamgees, tapping on their teacups with their spoons – for they’d seen this sort of thing, every time they accompanied their father to a festival or gathering where he was asked to open the festivities.

Pippin beamed on them all, and cleared his throat again, though it was much softer this time, something of a thought-gathering gesture, more than anything. ‘Well, then,’ he said. ‘I’m not so fine at speechmaking as some hobbits you may know – the Mayor comes to mind…’

The young Gamgees cheered for their father.

Pippin seemed to suddenly remember something, and dug inside his waistcoat, where he had an inside pocket for necessary things like hastily scribbled reminders of things needing to be done, or the names of hobbits he was about to meet with on official business. ‘O yes,’ he said, pulling forth a folded paper and shaking it out. ‘I have news from the Southlands…’

There was another cheer from the Gamgee children, and the rest of the children joined in just for the delight of it.

Pippin looked around the table. ‘It’s both good news, and perhaps news that might not be quite as welcome, but is really good for all that,’ he said.

There was a sudden silence as everyone, grown-ups and children alike, tried to work out the meaning of this statement. Regi had an impulse to say, None of your nonsense, now, but of course he tried not to say such things to the Thain in public, especially around young ones who might innocently repeat the sentiment at an awkward time. Somehow he managed to remain silent, but raised an eyebrow in a questioning manner and tilted his head, the better to listen.

‘Which do you want to hear first?’ Pippin asked into the general silence.

‘We want to hear all the news, of course!’ Rosie-lass said. ‘That is, if it’s about our parents, and Ellie…’

‘It is, isn’t it?’ Frodo-lad put in, quite sensibly, but then he was a sensible lad, even for a tween. ‘Otherwise you wouldn’t be telling it to us, I should think.’

‘Well then, I hardly know where to start,’ Pippin said, looking down at the letter and then sweeping the hobbits around the table with his glance. They were all ears.

‘Well then,’ he said again. ‘I suppose I will start with the presents.’

‘Presents!’ little Daisy squealed, clapping her hands in glee.

‘Where are they?’ Hamfast wanted to know. He looked under the cloth covering the table, but there was nothing there except for hobbit laps and limbs.

‘They are on their way,’ Pippin answered with a grin for the little ones’ excitement. ‘This letter was sent by courier, you see, and while a courier can carry an envelope at a very fast clip indeed, over a long distance, well, now, he wouldn’t be able to manage a heap of presents quite so handily, so those are being sent separately.’

Farry mimed a rider trying to hold the reins while juggling a toppling pile of packages, and Pip-lad, Merry-lad, and even Goldi chortled at the picture he made.

His father smiled fondly. ‘Be that as it may,’ he said. ‘Your parents are sending presents, because…’ here he hesitated, for he knew that the rest of the news would not be so welcome. Taking a deep breath, he bravely plunged on. ‘…because they’ll be staying in the Southlands a little longer than they’d originally planned.’

As he’d anticipated, the hilarity vanished and the young Gamgees sat staring solemnly. ‘Longer?’ Frodo-lad eventually managed. ‘How much longer?’

‘You see,’ Pippin said, feeling his way, ‘You’re to have another brother, or perhaps a sister, and they mayn’t travel until the little one is big enough to travel safely…’

‘Another baby!’ Primrose said in happy astonishment, and began to clap her hands, but then she stopped and her face fell. ‘But…’ she said in sudden understanding. ‘But babies take ever so long to be born…’

‘There was no baby when they left us,’ Daisy said, sounding bewildered. ‘Mama would have told us!’

‘And babies take ever so long,’ Primrose said again, this time in a tragic tone. ‘Most a year, isn’t it?’

Daisy burst into tears, and Bilbo set up a howl, and Goldi lost all colour and simply sat as if she’d been turned to stone.

It took quite some time to calm the teary tumult, but at last Pippin had them on an even keel once more (so to speak), and was talking cheerfully about plans for the next months – for of course they’d have two months at Cottons’ now, and then two months in Buckland, and then be able to return to the Great Smials for another whole two months, and so forth, until they received word that their parents were on their way home, and then they’d go to the Buckland to await their arrival.

‘Such a lovely welcoming celebration as we’ll have!’ Diamond said in her most cheerful tone. ‘Why, it’s a good thing we’ve a few months for the planning… What shall we do? Shall we have a feast, do you think? An enormous picnic by the banks of the Brandywine? Or atop the Hill in Hobbiton, so that all your neighbours may come?’

Most of the Gamgee children began to offer their suggestions to add to the plan, and soon many voices were all speaking at once, tumbling over each other with ideas and proposed surprises.

Only Goldi sat, pale and silent, and a single tear trickled down her little cheek. Before anyone noticed, she impatiently dashed it away, grabbed a currant scone from the platter, and for the rest of the meal she slowly broke the small baked treat into smaller pieces and pushed them around her plate, pretending great interest in the conversation (and if she winked her eyes a bit, as if they bothered her, and her lips were trembling, these signs were lost to all but young Farry in the excitement of the plan-making), but contributing not a word of her own.

Chapter 4. The Seed of a Conspiracy

Farry woke suddenly, some premonition of disaster tickling at the back of his neck. He did not move; he did not even open his eyes, but lay quiet in his bed, listening to the darkness around him. Hard lessons in caution had been drilled into him, in his short life. Taken by murderous ruffians intent on his father’s gold, somehow his body had learnt to transition from sleep to wakening without a jerk or snort or sudden sitting up or any of the other normal awakening behaviours. He could move from dream to full alertness in the blink of an eye – though his eyes did not actually blink, not unless he willed them to do so.

There was only the soft breathing of his minder. No sound came from a wakeful younger brother or sister. Farry breathed as softly as possible, stretching his ears to their limits. There was no whispery sound of a servant moving in the little sitting room off the bedrooms, to light a fire or lay breakfast ready for the sleeping family. No murmur was to be heard from his parents’ room. It must be very late.

He arose, creeping as softly as a hobbit could through the shadowy suite of rooms. It was indeed very late – glancing into his parents’ room, he saw them curled together, making one mound in the bed, his mother’s head on his father’s breast, his father’s arm holding her close, his mother snoring softly and his father – like Farry, body having learnt caution through hard experience – breathing silently, and slumbering so deeply that he was not even murmuring in his sleep as he did when restless for some reason or other, something Diamond liked to tease him about.

He went back to his room to retrieve the clothing his minder had laid out for him, ready for morning, though he took these into the sitting room to slip them on. Minders were notoriously light sleepers, and he didn’t want to be stopped with questions, sent back to bed, not even if it meant a treat of warmed milk with honey and a little nutmeg to sip upon, and a biscuit or two to nibble.

For the warning thrummed in him still, urging him to hurry about his business – and what would that business be?

At least he was fairly confident that no ruffian could penetrate the Great Smials. They’d have to get past the King’s Men who guarded the Bounds, and then the Bounders, and then the Tooks… No, he shook his head at himself. He felt in no danger of being taken by ruffians again. Though he drew a deep breath of relief, the tense feeling did not resolve.

Dressed now, he ghosted down the corridor to the public sitting room, past the guest rooms and Sandy’s room and the room set aside for a healer on watch, in times when his father was ill or his mum was expecting; past the little kitchen, pantry, and butler’s pantry, through the large sitting room and entryway, and still the thread of inexplicable tension drew him on.

He eased open the door to the main corridor. No hobbit of escort stood on duty there, so it was before six o’ the clock. In the time of the Troubles, of course, there had been a messenger standing there no matter what time of day or night, but in these peaceful times, Farry’s father had decreed that the hobbits of escort deserved to sleep at night just as much as the Thain did, and so there'd be one of them to be found outside the Thain’s quarters early in the morning until after late supper (not the same one the whole time, of course), and another would stand outside the Thain’s study when Pippin or one of his helpers was working there.

His sense of urgency was growing, as if he raced against time. He closed his eyes and listened with all that was in him, then shook his head, opened his eyes again, and began to walk through the dimly lit corridors, though he didn’t know where he was going, or why it might be important. It occurred to him that he might be sleep-walking, as he’d heard Uncle Merry talk about with his Da; he’d seemed to find it a great joke, though Cousin Berilac had not laughed with the rest at the time.

No hobbits were about; it was very early. Why, there wasn’t even the good smell of baking in the air, which meant that it was not yet two o’ the clock, when the bakers would begin the business of baking the breads for early breakfast. It must be just past middle night (as there had not been a feast or fancy dance, there would have been late supper but no midnight supper), but not quite bakers’ rising.

Farry realised that he was nearly to one of the lesser outer doors (not the Great Door, of course) when he felt a draught and a smell of rain washed over him. What could it be?

Something prompted him to hurry forward, to the doorway itself. The door stood open, and peeping around the frame he saw a small figure, somewhat smaller than himself, hesitating under the overhang.

‘Goldi!’ he breathed, and the figure jumped and turned on him, eyes blazing in the light of the torches in the courtyard, not yet quenched in the soft falling mist.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I might ask you the same,’ Farry answered.

‘Keep your voice down!’

‘Or what?’

‘Someone might hear!’

‘And that would be a bad thing? What are you doing?’

Goldi drew herself up as tall as she could – which was still half a head shorter than Faramir, but she still managed to look down her nose at him, remarkably like Reginard the Steward. ‘I can’t tell,’ she said.

‘Can’t?’ Farry said. ‘Is aught amiss with your memory? Were you walking in your sleep, and wakened to find yourself here?’

‘You think you’re so smart,’ she said haughtily.

‘Then it’s more won’t than can’t, I gather,’ Farry said, ‘and you’re out here a-purpose, and not on accident,’ and she seemed taken aback, and then looked at him with growing respect.

‘You know more than I gave you credit for,’ she said.

Farry shrugged. ‘I know little enough,’ he said, ‘but I’m good at guessing.’

‘I suppose you might be,’ she allowed.

‘And I’m guessing…’ he looked at her more closely: fully dressed, like himself, and hood and cloak over all, and a muffler wrapped around her neck for good measure, against the chill of middle night. ‘You’re running away?’

‘To, rather,’ she said.

‘To,’ he echoed, squinting his eyes, the better to think. ‘To… ‘ and the truth struck him, and his mouth opened in astonishment for a moment, and then he stammered the rest. ‘To… to Gondor?’

She put her hands on her hips and looked him up and down. ‘Well, now,’ she said. ‘You are, as you said, a good guesser. And now I think you can guess what I’ll say to you next…’

He nodded. ‘You’ll ask me to go back to bed, and pretend I never saw you, for it’s for the best.’

She nodded back at him, but he shook his head. ‘More fool you, if I do.’

She frowned. ‘I don’t take your meaning.’ She looked out into the dark, falling mist and said, ‘But time is wasting. The bakers will be up soon enough, and after that the dairymaids, and I must be well away before any of them come along…’

Farry reared back to scrutinise the lass, and then when she would have turned away he grabbed at her arm. ‘Speaking of bakers,’ he said in a meaningful tone.

She rolled her eyes and tried to pull free. ‘I’ve no time for this!’ she hissed.

Farry held firm and insisted that she hear him out. ‘I’ve done a bit of running away… running to, in my day,’ he said, and that was enough to stop her, and she cocked her head, and he could tell she was listening now, and not just impatient to get away.

‘You don’t have any food with you,’ he went on. ‘Not that I can see, anyhow.’

Goldi’s mouth opened in astonishment of her own, and her expression changed from impatience to chagrin. ‘I…’ she said, and gulped, suddenly deflating. ‘I hadn’t thought of that…’

Farry was thinking furiously. He knew Goldi all too well… If she were to manage to secure a loaf or a few breadrolls, she’d be off for certain, and no one the wiser until the morning, when she’d be missed, and who knew what might befall her in the dark hours before a search could even be mounted?

He knew very well that if he told the grown-ups and they intervened, she would desist for a time… but she’d bide her time, and slip away at the first opportunity. She was that stubborn. Just as he had been, upon a time.

Someone needed to take charge of this situation, and now.

‘You had better go back to bed,’ he said, and held up a staying hand as she bridled. ‘No, hear me out. Running away is a serious business, as I can tell you from bitter experience. It’s clear to me that you don’t know much about such matters. You need help.’

‘Help?’ she said, bewildered. Then her eyes flashed in understanding, and she repeated, challenge in her tone, ‘Help? Whose help? Yours, I suppose?’

‘Someone with intelligence is needed in the party,’ Faramir said, echoing something his da had said upon a time.

‘That leaves you out, I’m sure,’ Goldi snapped.

‘No,’ Faramir said. ‘I know how this kind of thing works. You can afford to wait a day or two, at least for dry weather…’ He was encouraged to see her nod. ‘And in the meantime, you can be collecting foodstuffs to take along with you…’ He wondered if Goldi realised just how far it was to Gondor, and how quickly she’d go through any amount of food she’d be able to spirit away and carry.

‘Ye – es,’ she said slowly, nodding as she considered.

‘And I think you ought to take a travelling companion,’ Farry went on. ‘Someone to keep watch while you’re sleeping.’

‘And who would keep watch while you’re sleeping, pray tell?’

And Farry drew a quick breath at the speed and depth of her understanding. ‘Why,’ he said with a grin. ‘You will, of course!’

Chapter 5. Caught!

Farry saw Goldi to the door of the apartments kept for the Mayor and his family, opening the door with well-practiced stealth, just a hands-width, and listening for all he was worth for the stirring of a minder or servant. Luck was with them, it seemed. They’d met no one in the corridors, on their way from the outer door, and the Mayor’s apartments were silent as a barrow in the Barrow Downs. More so, even, for Farry’s Da, and Goldi’s Dad, in telling of their youthful adventures, had described the hissing and growling of the wight they had encountered, though properly they had been asleep, and only Frodo had been awake at the time to hear it.

In any event, the air was quiet and still within. Farry’s hand tightened on Goldi’s arm for a moment, in silent signal. Then he nodded, opened the door a little wider, and released her, to slip within. No outcry came, no indignation at such a young one being dressed for the out-of-doors and out and about at such an hour, no concern or surprise – evidently everyone within was still deep in dream, and Goldi was lucky, in that she could lay her outer garments under their hooks, as if they’d merely fallen after careless hanging. She could slip into bed and get up again in the morning with none the wiser.

Elanor, had she been there might well have noticed Goldi arising from her rest fully dressed under the bedcovers, but Rose was a more careless lass, who did not rise easily herself, and was not likely to be alert until her eyes had been open and she’d been moving about for some minutes. Thus, no one – not the minder, who slept in a room with the littlest Gamgees, nor the other Gamgee girls, would be the wiser, or be able to guess at Goldi’s activity in the night. Or so Farry hoped.

He congratulated himself on the lateness – or the earliness – of the hour, seeing no hobbit of the escort standing before the door to his family’s apartments on his return. No, though the smell of baking bread was beginning to waft through the corridors, which meant the bakers were well started at their tasks for the day; though the dairymaids were still an hour or so from arising, it was still well short of six o’ the clock, when a messenger would take up his post. He opened the main door to the suite, listened intently to the quality of the silence (to hear only the ticking of the dwarf-made clock in the larger, public sitting room, somehow louder in the shadowy darkness than full light of day), and slipped inside. A single watch lamp burned low on the table, and the room was filled with shadows that moved with the flickering of the flame. A fire was laid ready for lighting on the grate, but the room itself was cool with the chill of night. Farry crept across the room, the thick carpet muffling even the softest whisper of hobbit footsteps.

He hesitated as he passed the table. The usual bowl of fruit resided upon its polished surface, and he was suddenly hungry. Grabbing up an apple, he lifted it to his mouth – and hesitated. Somehow the thought came to him that the soft crunch of his teeth biting into the juicy orb would, like the clock, sound as loud as a thunderclap in the shadowy darkness. He put the apple into his pocket, instead. Perhaps if he ate it, far underneath his bedcovers, no one would ever know, not even the light-sleeping minder. At least until the time came to change the linens.

Nothing moved, not even a mouse – if any mice were to be found in Sandy’s well-maintained environs. Thus far, things seemed to be going well. Goldi was by now safely in bed, and Farry…

But the son of the Thain was not to be so lucky.

He tiptoed, soft as a cat on the hunt, deeper into the suite, listening for all he was worth, but still, all that could be heard was the ticking of the clock receding behind him. Down the corridor, towards the pantry, butler’s pantry, and little kitchen he went, every step slow and cautious, scarcely drawing breath, though of course no one ought to be about at this early hour, not even to fetch fresh-baked bread from the Smials kitchens for breakfast, as the bread was in the middle of baking and would not be fetchable for at least an hour, if not more.

As he passed the partly open door of the butler’s pantry, it occurred – rather belatedly – to him that the door had been firmly closed when last he passed that way. The thought was not enough warning, however, to keep him from jumping, startled, at the soft clearing of a throat.

His first wild thought was that it was his father – who had shown on many previous occasions, an alarming tendency to know when Farry was at mischief – but no. The soft, misting rain hissing on the guttering torches in the courtyard had signaled a change in the weather from the previous day’s bright sunshine. Today would be one of his father’s bad days, he feared, where Pippin would allow himself to be carried from place to place, unable even to stand to his feet unassisted.

Uncle Ferdi, then…? But what would Ferdi be doing in the Thain’s apartments at this hour?

Still, Uncle Ferdi had a knack for showing up at the most inopportune – or perhaps lucky for Farry, in hindsight – times, when mischief reached its height and danger was not far behind.

But what danger could be found in the Thain’s apartments, in the early hours of the morning?

Farry had a wild impulse to dash the rest of the way to the inner recesses of the suite, past the guest rooms, through the little, private sitting room, directly to his bed – or better yet, his parents’ bed, to dive under the covers and huddle there, shivering, but safe. However, that would be a childish thing to do, fauntly in truth, and beneath a son of the Thain. He drew himself up to his grandest almost-twelve-year-old height – which, admittedly, was taller than many Tooks of his age. Still, he found himself holding his breath, looking upward as the door to the butler’s pantry swung wide, to meet the composed, serious gaze of the Thain’s personal hobbitservant, silver serving fork in one hand, polishing cloth in the other.

Farry had overheard his father say to his mother that Sandy’s duties did not include sleep, but he’d always thought it was but a jest… until this moment.

‘S-sandy,’ he managed, trying to sound nonchalant, as if it were common practice for a young hobbit to be wandering the corridors of the Smials in the very early morning.

‘Sleep wandering, were we?’ that worthy answered, with a lift to his eyebrow that gave the question emphasis and weight. ‘On our way back from the Smials’ kitchens, perhaps, after a night of switching the salt and sugar labels?’

Farry’s lips twitched in spite of himself. Such an excursion was rare, but not unknown, and might have occurred in retribution for a sore ear after being caught lifting fresh-baked biscuits from the cooling racks. ‘N-no,’ he replied truthfully, though on reflection perhaps it might have been wiser to stand mute. The grown-ups must not learn of Goldi’s intentions, and try to prevent her carrying out her plan. That would only cause her to be more cautious, so cautious that Farry himself might miss her leave-taking. Frantically he cast about for a plausible explanation.

‘I – I was hungry,’ he said, putting his hand in his pocket and drawing forth the glossy apple. ‘See? I thought I smelled bread baking…’ And he had, though it had been in the outer corridor. ‘Or… perhaps I only dreamed I smelled it, and I got up to look for it, but I came to myself in the main parlour, opening the door – and there was a smell of good baking, actually,’ he added, warming to his subject, and managing to tell mostly truth, if not its entirety. He tried to look young and pitiful, then, and said, ‘but it was all dark, dark it was, and not even Tolly or Hilly or Haldi there, to ask if they might go and fetch a platter of fresh-baked rolls for the Thain and his family…’

Sandy’s mouth tightened at this, for it was hardly an escort’s duty to be escorting breadstuffs, no matter how winsome the requester. (Though, truth be told, all the hobbits of escort were in danger of becoming devoted slaves to the Thain’s young daughter, Forget-me-not. If Faramir were to ask for anything in his younger sister’s name, why, he’d likely have it.) But all he said was, ‘So you thought you’d bring an apple back to your bed, to stave off starvation until early breakfast, I presume?’

This, too, was something that Farry could confess, and with absolute sincerity, and so he did.

‘Very well, then,’ the hobbitservant said, in a tone that implied it was not at all “very well”, but beneath his dignity to say so. ‘Off to bed with you.’

Scarcely believing his luck, Farry complied, with such speed and willingness that Sandy smiled in spite of himself, as he returned to polishing the silver. The hobbitservant propped fully open the door to the butler’s pantry, and stationed himself to have full view of the hallway, however.

Just in case any young hobbit might take it into his head to wander any more that night.

...but Sandy needn’t have worried. Farry fell into his bed without bothering to undress, and managed to fall asleep so quickly that his apple was still in his hand, and nearly whole, when his mystified minder awakened him, performing her duty to ready the children for breakfast.

Chapter 6. Rude Awakening

The urgent rapping on the door to Ferdibrand and Pimpernel’s apartments roused Rusty from his well-earned rest. The hobbit-servant arose quickly and hurried to the door to intercept the intruder before it should disturb his master and mistress or any of the children. A glance at the dwarf-made clock on the mantel in the sitting room disclosed the early hour: two o’ the clock!

He put on his most disapproving look and opened the door. The rebuke waiting ready on his lips died a-borning and his expression turned to astonishment as he beheld the very young hobbit standing in the corridor, hugging herself.

‘Miss Rose!’ he gasped. What was a child still in her teens doing wandering the corridors of the Great Smials at this time o’ the night? Why, the dairymaids and bakers wouldn’t even be stirring for another hour or two!

‘Please,’ the lass begged, and she stopped hugging herself and twisted her hands together in her perturbation. ‘Please, I need to talk to Uncle Ferdi!’ ...for the Gamgee children had “offishully” adopted Ferdibrand Took not long after the Mayor brought his family to the Smials on an official visit following Pippin’s ascension to the office of Thain.

‘Are you perhaps sleep-walking, lass?’ Rusty asked in befuddlement, keeping his tone gentle in case the child really was sleep-walking. ‘Here now, let me escort you back to the guest quarters...’

Shivering, she pulled away from his guiding arm and hugged herself again against the chill of night. In the dim light of the night-lamps in the corridor, her face was remarkably pale. ‘No! Please!’ she insisted. ‘I must see Ferdi!’

‘It can wait until the light of morning, surely...’

‘No!’ she said, louder, and Rusty suppressed a wince as he heard Ferdi speak behind him.

‘What is it, Rusty? Is there an emergency of some sort?’

Relief replaced the panic in the young one’s face, and she dodged around Rusty and ran across the sitting room to throw her arms around the Thain’s special assistant, sobbing in apparent fear. ‘Uncle Ferdi!’

Ferdi, night-clad, eased his arms around the distraught child and pulled her close. ‘You’re shivering cold, Rosie-lass! Rus, bring her a blanket!’

As the hobbit-servant hurried to do his master’s bidding, he heard in shock the broken words spilling from young Rose Gamgee. ‘It’s Goldi! She’s gone from her bed! Gone from the Smials! We’ve searched everywhere, Frodo and I, for the past hour, and more... but her cloak is gone...’ She gulped and went on, ‘Why would her cloak be gone? It’s the middle of the night!’

‘Steady, lass, steady,’ Ferdi was saying, patting and rubbing her back in an attempt to soothe. He nodded thanks to Rusty, took the proffered blanket, and wrapped it around the lass. ‘I’m sure there’s a logical explanation to be found, along with your sister...’

‘She’s only eleven years old!’ Rosie-lass sobbed. ‘And she’s wandering somewhere, alone!’

‘Not alone,’ a youthful voice spoke quietly from the door that separated the sitting room from the corridor leading to the bedrooms.

Ferdi turned, still hugging young Rosie, to face his eldest son Rudi, whom he’d adopted upon his wedding to Pimpernel, Rudi’s mother. ‘Not...? Then who is with her?’ From the look on his face, it appeared he’d already guessed the answer to his query.

But why would the young Bolger tween be apologising? Rusty thought on hearing Rudi’s answer. ‘I’m sorry, Da.’ For some reason, the young tween was not night-clad but fully dressed, and his cloak was draped over his arm in readiness for... a departure?

‘He’s gone?’ Ferdi demanded, keeping his voice low though his consternation shone through.

He? Rusty wondered.

‘It wasn’t his idea in the first place, nor would it have been his first choice, but that he felt he had no choice,’ Rudi said, as if explaining, but the explanation didn’t seem to make any sense.

‘Rus, a pot of tea is in order, I think,’ Ferdi said. ‘I’ll pause long enough to have a cup before I go, as will Rudi. And fix Miss Rose a cup with a double-portion of honey, if you please?’

As he stirred up the fire in the small kitchen, laid on more wood, and put the kettle on to boil, the situation suddenly came clear. The son of the Thain had taken it into his head to run away again! After all the trouble he’d caused only a year or so ago! Had he not learnt his lesson after all? And worse, he had apparently taken the young daughter of the Mayor along, as if he were on a lark of some sort! It defied the imagination.

When the hobbit-servant entered the sitting-room once more, he found master and mistress fully dressed, along with young Rudi and, of course, Rosie-lass Gamgee. The tray he carried was heavily burdened with teapot, cups and saucers and plates, milk pitcher and honeypot, plus the bread he’d sliced while waiting for the kettle to boil, along with crocks of butter and jam, some cold meat and sliced cheese, and a few hard-cooked eggs, all artfully piled together to prevent upsetting. He noticed that someone had lit the fire he’d left ready to spark on the hearth, for flames were now dancing cheerily in the grate, sending their warmth into the room.

He quickly dealt out the contents of the tray onto the sitting-room table to supplement the large bowl of fruit already holding pride of place in the centre. ‘Tea, Sir and Mistress,’ he intoned, on his dignity despite the unusual hour. It helped that he’d hurried into his clothes and was no longer night-clad himself.

‘Rus, you’re a wonder,’ Ferdi said in thanks, and then he was urging Rudi to eat his fill, even as he made up a large and generous sandwich for himself and then, almost sacrilegiously, bolted it down.

Before the dwarf-made clock struck the half-hour, Ferdi and Rudi were gone, and Pimpernel was softly instructing Rusty to go to the guest quarters and inform the Gamgee children’s minders that Rosie-lass was safe in their apartments but making no mention of the younger Gamgee daughter.

‘How shall I explain, Mistress?’ he asked, hesitating at the door.

‘It’s the middle of the night!’ Pimpernel answered with asperity. ‘Tell them we’ll talk to them in the morning!’

‘Yes’m,’ he said, and sped to deliver his message.

*** 

Chapter 7. How to Form an Effective Conspiracy

Tolly emerged into his family’s sitting room just before six o’ the clock, stopped short, and blinked to see Rusty, who served both his and Ferdi’s families, setting down the cosied teapot. Meadowsweet, close on his heels, ran into him. She brought down her hands from her head, where she’d been tucking her curls into a net, and gave him a push. Of course, since he was so much taller and broader than his diminutive wife, the effect was something like a coney pushing against a rock. ‘Tolly! Don’t just stand there...’

‘Are we early? Or are you belated?’ Tolly said, for on a typical day, he would have found early breakfast already laid out and waiting, and Rusty would be gone, performing the same honours in Ferdibrand and Pimpernel’s suite. 

Though the two families could have afforded multiple servants since the unbelievable windfall that had befallen Ferdi and Tolly a year or so ago, the two archers and their wives preferred to keep to the way things had always been before their newfound wealth had, more or less, been forced upon them.

‘Beg pardon, Sir, Mistress,’ Rusty said, as always on his dignity. ‘Master Ferdibrand and Mistress Pimpernel, they et earlier.’

‘Earlier!’ Meadowsweet said, pushing past her unmoving mountain of a husband. ‘What’re they doing eating earlier!’

Rusty did not seem to have an answer to her query, but addressed the head of escort instead. ‘Master Ferdibrand sends his compliments, Sir, and requests that you escort the Thain to the study in his place.’

‘Did the Thain send him—?’ Tolly began.

‘He had an errand,’ Rusty interrupted smoothly. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Sir and Mistress...’ And since, on a typical day, he’d already have been gone after laying out breakfast, there seemed no good reason to detain him.

Best of all, the distraction Rusty provided by lingering in the sitting room long enough to engage Tolly and Meadowsweet in conversation allowed their eldest son, Gorbibold, to exit into the corridor from the bathing room shared by the two apartments without anyone taking notice.

Tolly quickly put away several bread-rolls smeared with soft cheese (and one sporting butter and jam), washing them down with a cup of tea, for if he was to escort Pippin this morning, he must be on the spot just as soon as the healers finished their morning ministrations with the Thain, and preferably before. It was never a good idea to keep the Thain waiting.

Meadowsweet tried to talk to him (‘What kind of errand would Ferdi be about at this time o’ the day?’) but, mouth full, Tolly simply shook his head. He downed the last of his tea, swiped his mouth with his serviette, and threw it on the table. ‘I’m sure we’ll find out all about it later.’

When he joined the Steward in the small, private sitting room of the Thain’s quarters, he met Regi’s questioning look with a shrug. ‘I was asked to stand in for Ferdi,’ he said.

‘Is the hobbit taken ill?’ Regi asked in honest concern, for Ferdi’s head, after the most recent encounter with a ruffian’s club, still bothered him at times, especially when the weather was changing.

‘He’s well enough,’ Tolly said, and it was truth, wasn’t it? For if the hobbit weren’t well, he wouldn’t be out on some errand or other at the crack of dawn.

Woodruff, head healer in the Smials, entered from the private quarters and beckoned. ‘Good morning, Regi, Tolibold. He’s ready for you now.’

Nodding and murmuring their good mornings in return, the two moved to the Thain’s bedroom and helped Pippin to stand up. ‘What’s your pleasure this morning?’ the Steward said, affecting a jolly tone. ‘Pony-back or shanks-nag?’

‘Let us give the ponies a rest this day!’ Pippin answered in a similar vein. ‘Turn them out to pasture to have a good roll and graze on the cool green grass of Springtide!’

The Steward nodded and took up the Thain’s heavy walking stick from its resting place, handing it to Pippin with a bow. Then he and Tolly shadowed the Thain, close on either side to catch him should his bad leg collapse under him in order to prevent a spill, as Pippin shuffled slowly through the Thain’s apartments to the corridor. They paused for a moment to let him catch his breath, and then proceeded onward, stopping several times along the long passage from the innermost to the outermost regions of the Great Smials.

On reaching the study at last, Tolly moved ahead of the others to open the door for the Thain... and stopped in surprise and, to be honest, consternation.

For his eldest son, Gorbi, was sitting at Ferdi’s desk! More accurately, Tolly caught sight of him rising from the chair, prompted by the door’s opening, and standing at attention.

‘Gorbi!’ he gasped. ‘What’re you—?’

But the Steward’s dry tones, sounding behind him, interrupted his query. ‘Are you going to allow the Thain to enter his own study, or is there some problem that requires him to take his stand out here on one leg, as if he were a stork?’

Apologising profusely, Tolly moved aside and allowed Regi to escort Pippin the rest of the way to the ornately carved desk that had served many Thains before his time. Meanwhile, Tolly crossed the study and took Gorbi by the arm. ‘What is it, that’s going on between those ears of yours?’ he hissed, then turned to the Thain, who had taken out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat of exertion from his brow. ‘I’m that sorry, Sir, I don’t know...’

Pippin folded the handkerchief again and restored it to his pocket. ‘No harm done,’ he said mildly. ‘Especially as I was informed that Ferdi had an errand, this morning, so his chair is going wanting as it is...’

‘None of your nonsense now, then,’ Regi said to the Thain, adding under his breath, ‘Surely it’s too early in the morning for that.’

Pippin only laughed and slapped the hovering Steward on the arm. ‘It’s never too early for a good spot of nonsense!’ he countered. ‘Starts the day off on a good footing, I should say!’ 

Regi took the hint and moved to his own desk.

Tolly pulled at Gorbi’s arm again, intending to escort him out from behind Ferdi’s desk and on out the door. He intended to have a word with his erring tween as soon as they had the privacy that the heavy door would afford once he pulled it shut. Tweenish pranks were all well and good – and to be expected – but certainly not in the Thain’s study!

But Gorbi shook off his father’s grasp with a whispered apology. ‘I’m sorry, Da.’

The tween wasn’t apologising for being in the study and sitting in a chair behind a desk where serious business was conducted, as it turned out, for he took a deep breath, seemed to gather his courage, and lifted his chin to address the Thain directly. ‘Thain Peregrin, I need to have a word with you.’ Pippin glanced at Tolly and back at the tween; his good-natured look vanished and his eyes narrowed as young Gorbi added an emphatically-spoken, ‘Privately.’   

‘Sir, I—’ Tolly said desperately, but then he stopped, at a complete loss. He really had no idea how to proceed in the face of this complete breach of etiquette on his son’s part.

But Thain Peregrin, after a long study of the tween’s face, suddenly said, ‘Regi, I want you and Tolly to wait just outside. And close the door. I’ll send for you when we’re finished.’

When the Thain took that tone, not even the Steward was inclined to gainsay him. And so Regi got up again from his chair and walked to the door, indicating that Tolly should join him. The two stepped out into the passageway, whereupon Tolly pulled the heavy door shut.

Though they could hear the murmur of voices within, the door had been designed to defy the efforts of eavesdroppers, and so the conversation between the Thain and the tween remained a mystery, even as it stretched on.

*** 

Inside the Thain’s study, Pippin eyed the tween thoughtfully. ‘What’s this all about, Gorbi?’

The lad did not associate himself with the more mischievous circles of tweens living in the Smials and Tuckborough beyond, but then, though Gorbi’s father was now amongst the wealthiest of the Tooks living in the Smials, Tolly still styled himself as a working hobbit which, happily, had the effect of buffering his children from some of the worst of the social influences to be found in this bastion of the Tooks.

At Gorbi’s hesitation, Pippin beckoned. ‘Come closer, lad. I won’t bite. At least, not unless I feel the need to do so.’

Not even the faintest of smiles resulted from this small jest. Gorbi was, as Pippin had heard another tween remark at some point, “dead serious”. Moreover, the tween seemed frozen to the spot.

Speaking more firmly, Pippin ordered, ‘Come here. Now.’

Gorbi jerked and then nodded, made his way around Ferdi’s desk, and came to stand at attention in front of the Thain’s desk.

‘Would you like to take a chair?’ Pippin asked, deceptively polite.

The tween gulped, for he knew all too well the cold, sharp-edged steel that lay – hidden, at least at this moment – under the Thain’s mild manner. ‘I think I should stand, Sir,’ he answered.

Pippin’s eyebrows went up, and he leaned back in his chair, scrutinising the tween for a moment before saying, ‘Well then... speak your piece. You’re keeping us from the business of the day.’

‘Your son...’ Gorbi ventured, and now he had the Thain’s full attention, for Pippin sat up straight in his chair and skewered the tween with his keen glance.

‘Go on,’ the Thain said, his voice ominously quiet. For Gorbi’s presence in the study – the tween slipping in and waiting for him to arrive, and then asking to speak privately – none of it portended something good.

The tween dropped his eyes to his toes, drew a deep breath, and looked up again, courageously meeting the Thain’s stern glare. ‘Your son,’ he began again, ‘asked for our help.’

‘Our?’

Gorbi cleared his throat. ‘Rudi, and me,’ he said, and clarified, ‘Rudivar,’ naming Ferdi’s eldest son.

‘Does this have something to do with Ferdi’s “errand”?’ Pippin asked.

Gorbi took another deep breath, seemed to steel himself, and then said harshly, ‘If you would allow me to speak, Sir?’

‘Speak then,’ Pippin said, but his eyes flashed a warning. The tween nodded and his hands clenched at his sides before he could force them to relax again. From dire experience, Gorbi (and Rudi, of course) knew that the Thain was at his most dangerous when he inferred that some danger threatened his children, especially Faramir, who’d known real peril in his short life.

‘Farry confided in us,’ Gorbi ploughed on, ‘and we agreed,’ he said, ‘in part because the healers will not allow a tween to be put on water rations the same as an adult would.’ He raised his chin and quoted from memory the lessons drilled into all who served under the Thain: ‘Any hobbit found in neglect of his duties will take no food for the space of a day. Hobbits in charge of others found in neglect will suffer thrice the penalty. Those who will not work, shall not eat.’ Ignoring the Thain’s shock, he continued. ‘Nor are tweens subject to the Ban, as far as I know, and even if we are – even a thief suffers, at most, a year-and-a-day of shunning.’

His look grew strangely stern as he finished, ‘And I’ve not heard of any tween being banished from the Shire.’ And then he blinked, and added in a lower voice, ‘But then, tweens are more inclined to foolishness than malice, or so it seems to me, as a tween myself, that is.’

‘Your point is?’ Pippin said quietly.

Gorbi met his gaze directly once more, and he stood straighter. ‘You would have banished my father, mine and Rudi’s fathers, when your son ran away, and they tried to remedy the situation.’ Did their best to prevent a scandal, he didn’t say, but Pippin seemed to hear the words anyway, for he closed his eyes, as if in pain, for a long moment before opening them again.

‘Are you telling me that Farry has run away again, and Ferdi is on his trail once more, as happened before?’ he asked at last.

‘Yes... and no,’ Gorbi replied.

‘Do not give me an elvish answer!’ Pippin snapped, his nerves stretched tight now that he knew – sort of – what this was all about.

‘That is not my intent,’ Gorbi replied, strangely calm. ‘Hear me out, and I will tell you all I know of the plan we worked out together – Farry, Rudi, and I.’

*** 

After what seemed an eternity to Tolly, but was actually less than half an hour, the murmuring within the Thain’s study stopped, and a few seconds later, Gorbi opened the study door and beckoned to the two waiting adults. ‘We’re finished,’ he said. And then he did a curious thing: he took hold of Tolly’s arm to stay the head of escort from asking the first of many questions, and looked long and earnestly into his da’s eyes, stunning both Tolly and Regi to silence with the intensity of his gaze.

And then he nodded, loosed his hold, and walked away without another word.

*** 

Author’s note: “shanks’ mare” is an old saying meaning “by foot”; its origin is said to come from the phrase “shanks-nag”, believed to be of Scottish origin. While my Tooks are more Welsh than Scottish, I admit to borrowing ideas freely from various Celtic cultures as they seem to fit.

*** 

Chapter 8. Best-laid Plans

Perhaps an hour after the Sun had kicked off her bedcovers, the relatively slow pace Ferdibrand had set brought him and Rudivar into Bywater. The soft thudding of their ponies’ feet on the unpaved surface of the New Road changed to clopping on the cobblestoned street, jolting young Rudi out of a half-dream. But then, the tween wasn’t used to staying awake all night, as the conspirators’ plan had required.

‘Bywater,’ Ferdi said laconically. ‘We’re well in time for tea, I should say. Though... I think we’ll take breakfast instead.’

‘We might have walked just as fast,’ Rudi said with a sidelong glance at his da.

‘And reached Bywater weary and footsore,’ Ferdi replied, and patted Penny’s neck.

‘Not you!’ Rudi said with a laugh. ‘So I can only gather you’re worried on my account!’

‘Are we in a hurry?’ Ferdi asked. ‘I rather had the idea, from what little you’ve told me of the Plan, that we should be in place in the inn at Frogmorton by tomorrow evening, at the earliest...’

He turned his head and fixed Rudi with a keen look. ‘Do you honestly think those children can cover thirty-some miles... in only two days? I’m surprised we didn’t come upon them sleeping beside the Road halfway to Bywater... but Penny would’ve alerted me had she scented them in our passing.’

‘And that’s why we rode the ponies...!’ Rudi said in belated understanding.

‘Ponies have a keen sense of smell,’ Ferdi said. ‘Keener than ours, any road. And Penny knows young Faramir quite well. He brings her carrots or apples whenever he visits the stables. When he enters, even before he turns the corner, she’s already whickering and nodding her head to greet him.’

‘What if he has no apples or carrots with him now?’

Ferdi shook his head. ‘He’s got Penny so spoilt, I even saw her greet him when he’d forgot her treat. And do you know what the boy did?’

‘I’m sure you’re going to tell me, so...’

Ferdi laughed. ‘He went back to the kitchens and begged a handkerchief-full of sugar lumps from one of the apprentice cooks! ...all of which he fed to my Penny-lass!’

‘I can see why she looks out for him,’ Rudi agreed. And then he matched his da’s keen look. ‘But it wouldn’t do to catch them up so early in the journey.’

‘Wouldn’t it, now?’ Ferdi said. ‘Would you care to enlighten me as to why?’

Rudi drew a deep breath and hesitated.

‘Come now,’ Ferdi said. ‘You’re the only map I have on this journey. Surely you can tell me of some of the landmarks I’d be wise to recognise along the way!’

At last, obviously thinking his way through the words as he spoke, lest he might say too much, Rudi said, ‘If we catch them too soon, they won’t be tired enough.’

Ferdi considered, then nodded slowly. ‘I begin to understand, I think,’ he said. ‘It reminds me of the bargain I struck with young Farry the last time he ran away...’

‘He’s not running away!’ Rudi protested.

‘You might have fooled me,’ Ferdi said, and then he pointed. ‘Look, The Green Dragon’s just ahead. Since we don’t want to accidentally find our quarry too soon, let us stop for a leisurely as well as filling breakfast.’

‘I’ll drink to that!’ Rudi said with a grin.

‘So long as it’s tea you’re drinking,’ Ferdi said with a mock-scowl. ‘And where did you learn to say such a thing?’

‘That’s what the Thain said at the last bonfire after Tolly made a joke about sending all the hobbits of escort on a long holiday,’ Rudi answered.

‘All the escort,’ Ferdi echoed, and shook his head.

‘That’s what I just said.’

Ferdi nodded. ‘I can see how the Thain might appreciate such a happening.’ He glanced at his son. ‘Of course you know it’s never going to happen.’

‘O aye,’ Rudi said in his best imitation of a back-country Took. ‘But he can always hope...’

*** 

Faramir had set a steady pace through the hours of darkness, pausing only when Goldi complained and encouraging the lass with such cheery thoughts as, ‘How ever do you expect to walk all the way to Gondor if a little trek to Bywater is too much?’

It had still been dark when they passed through Bywater, and he hadn’t allowed Goldi to pause until the lights of The Green Dragon had faded behind them. It had been difficult to keep walking past the smells of bread baking and slow-roasting bacon in preparation for early breakfast, but Farry insisted. ‘If anyone sees us in the town, we’ll be in trouble.’

‘Aren’t we already in trouble?’ Goldi asked.

‘Very well,’ Farry said. ‘We’ll be in more trouble. For you know my da will be sending out searchers as soon as we’re missed!’

‘P’rhaps I ought to have run away on my own,’ Goldi said.

‘He’d’ve sent out searchers anyhow,’ Farry said. ‘And you don’t know the way.’

‘Do you?’ she challenged.

Farry nodded. ‘I’ve been studying maps with my da,’ he said. ‘We’ve traced the journeys of the Fellowship as part of my history studies. He says it’s important that hobbits know what was sacrificed for them. Someday, he says, he’ll be able to argue Uncle Merry around to where the whole story can be told... to Tooks and Tooklanders as well as all who live in the Outer Shire.’

‘We all know the story,’ Goldi said.

‘Your family?’ Farry said. ‘Well of course you do.’

‘My dad lived through much worse than the Master of Buckland, and he thinks the tale should be told far and wide – and often – if only to honour Mister Frodo and not let folk forget what he did!’

‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that,’ Farry said through his teeth.

‘Sure of what?’ Goldi snapped. ‘But of course the Tale should be told!’

‘I agree!’ Farry said.

‘You’re contradicting yourself,’ Goldi criticised.

‘Not at all,’ Farry countered. ‘Yes, I agree that the Tale should be told, in full, and often enough that folk don’t forget. But no,’ he said forcefully, ‘I disagree that Uncle Merry’s experience was any less horrible than Mayor Sam’s!’

Goldi spluttered.

At least Farry thought privately, the arguing is warming – and diverting! I’ve not thought of my feet in almost a mile, I should say! And Goldi seems to have forgot about complaining too. He filed away the thought for future reference.

‘They all experienced wonders and terrors,’ he said aloud, to keep the argument going. ‘Why, I’ve heard your own dad tell mine, when my da has made a joke of his contributions to the journey, that every one of them had his own row to hoe, and it would be unwise to try to draw comparisons...’

‘My dad walked in the Dark Lands,’ Goldi said hotly. ‘He fought Shelob! And he crawled on his hands and knees up the Fiery Mountain...’

‘Just as Uncle Merry crawled on his hands and knees behind the Witch-king,’ Farry said, almost too low for his companion to hear. His heart was wrung inside him with pity and dismay for his beloved cousin. ‘Three times he faced that horror... which was more than any of the others.’ 

‘Three times!’

Farry nodded, staring straight ahead. ‘The Witch-king almost took him in Bree, remember,’ he said. ‘They were lifting him up, to carry him off to a dreadful fate, when Nob startled them with his shout, and the brightness of his lantern made them fall back, just long enough for Nob to shake him. My da thinks...’

‘What does your da think?’ Goldi said in a more subdued tone.

‘He thinks that if Uncle Merry hadn’t jumped up and run back to the inn as fast as his legs would carry him, they’d’ve swooped in and grabbed him again. They only left Nob alone because he was a Bree-hobbit and not a Shire-hobbit, and so they knew he wasn’t the one they were looking for.’

He gulped down tears and added, ‘It was almost too much for him. My da thinks Strider healed him of the Black Breath in Bree, as the Travellers slept, and they all benefited from the athelas Strider brewed after the encounter on Weathertop, not just Frodo... but Uncle Merry was almost too far gone to save in Gondor, and it was his third time, the third time he was overcome by the Black Breath – which my da thinks made it worse, much worse, even now, than it is for himself or Mayor Sam...’

They walked a few moments in silence, and then Farry raised his arm to point. ‘Look!’ he said. ‘That’s the Three-Farthing Stone ahead!’

‘You said we’d need to find a hiding place by midday,’ Goldi said.

Farry nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We still need to walk for another hour or three. They would have discovered we were gone when everyone got up for breakfast,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how long it’ll take riders to reach us here...’

‘How would they know to look here?’ Goldi asked.

‘My da will send searchers in all directions, knowing him,’ Farry said. ‘So we need to go to ground by the time the Sun is at her highest, and hide until darkness falls. At least the nights are about as long as the days, this time of year.’ He looked back the way they’d come. ‘Let’s try to put a few more miles behind us before we stop.’

The New Road had followed a straight line, more or less, between Tuckborough and Bywater, making it difficult to lose their way, at least, and he was thankful for that mercy. The East Road that had led them out of Bywater also served as a reliable guide, which was one reason Farry had chosen their path to follow main roads despite the increased danger of discovery. He didn’t care to try their luck going cross-country again, as he had in his earlier endeavour. Not only would it be all too easy to lose their way in the Woody End, but the unsettled part of the wood away from the Stock Road offered a greater chance to encounter wild animals, such as foxes. Farry’d had quite enough of foxes already in his young life. 

No, but it was better – safer – to travel through settled country along a main road. The choice of route also fit the plan he’d formulated with Rudi and Gorbi. As they had discussed various options, the tweens had not found it hard to convince Faramir that it would be difficult enough to control the situation without throwing in accidental complications.

Perhaps thinking of complications and accidents was unwise...

Goldi hadn’t complained again of tiredness after Farry had chided her earlier. But Farry himself was tiring, and that may be why he was paying less attention than he ought. They’d moved onto the grassy verge by the Road to be out of the way of riders and waggons. Faramir was carrying a large basket, as was Goldi. Both had often seen children walking along the highways and byways with baskets. They might have been sent to a neighbour with a gift or the task of borrowing some simple commodity, like a cup of sugar. They might have been taking farm produce to the market or a shop or an inn (if they were close to a village). Alternatively, they might have been sent to fetch something.

There were any number of reasons for children to be out and about if they weren’t doing chores or playing in their own yards, and so the conspirators hoped that their passage would be unremarked.

Of course, Farry thought to himself, that only holds while we’re within the Shire, which is why we need to be found before we reach the Bridge! And I mean for Goldi to be fed up to her back teeth of walking by that time!

‘Let us quicken our steps,’ he said aloud, ‘and see how far we can get before noontide.’ With satisfaction, he noted Goldi’s sigh... but she didn’t complain.

He looked behind them periodically for riders, but all he saw were waggons, which was all to the good. ‘Be ready to slide down... into the ditch... if I should see a rider... on the Road behind us,’ he warned Goldi. She nodded, and he realised that the faster pace was also making her feel a bit winded.

And so, it was perhaps their taxing pace that was to blame for what followed, for Farry was tiring himself, pushing himself harder than he typically would, as a result of his effort to impress upon Goldi the tiresomeness of running away. In any event, he was walking closest to the ditch, in part to guard Goldi from a misstep, but he ought to have been guarding himself more carefully, as things turned out. As he turned to look behind them, his foot came down at the edge of the grass; he twisted and flailed to try to catch himself, but his ankle turned under him, and then his basket was flying up and he was sliding down with a surprised cry. He landed painfully at the bottom.

‘Farry!’ Goldi’s head was dark against the bright sky, whilst the helpful Sun, now almost directly above them, buffed her curls to brilliance.

‘I’m all right!’ he lied, sitting up at the bottom of the ditch. Thankfully there wasn’t much water left at the bottom from the recent rain, but it was cold, and muddy.

‘How will you get out?’

‘It’s not all that deep – only to my shoulders once I stand up, I should think,’ he answered.

‘Then stand up!’ she ordered.

Easier said than done, the way his blasted ankle was twinging.

He relished the feel of the forbidden word in his mouth. Blast.

‘What was that?’

‘Nothing!’ he called. ‘If you can hold one side of your basket handle and extend the other to me, I can use it to climb out. The sides look too slippery to get any kind of good grasp.’

He managed to stand up, though it hurt to do so. He must have done some damage to both ankles, the one that turned and the one he’d landed on in falling. Blast!

He couldn’t put any weight on his right foot; trying made the world tilt and obscured his vision with bright streaks of light. Balancing on his left leg sent shooting pains through that ankle, as well, but at least it didn’t make him feel as if he were about to faint.

He shoved down the curious thought that this was what his da experienced every day. It was no wonder he allowed his cousins to help him walk and even carry him on his bad days. Worse days, Farry thought, and for the first time it occurred to him that every day might be a bad day for his father. 

And he didn’t want to think about that, either. 

He wiped impatiently at his eyes with a muddy hand, which didn’t help matters much. And then he was suddenly face-to-face with Goldi, who’d prostrated herself on the verge, her eyes looking huge and frightened – of course, their noses were nearly touching.

‘Your basket,’ he said, gritting his teeth against the pain.

‘Are you hurt?’ she said.

‘Your basket, please,’ Farry repeated. ‘Just a little,’ he admitted, for the extent of his injuries would become obvious as soon as he was out of this ditch and trying to walk again.

Goldi nodded and laid her basket on its side. Farry grasped the basket handle on the low side, while she grasped the handle from the top. ‘I’m going to pull on “three”,’ she said, ‘so get ready to scramble up!’

‘It’s as easy as one – two – three!’ Farry muttered, quoting one of his da’s many stories from the Quest, as he sometimes called the Fellowship’s travels before Farry was born.

Either Goldi hadn’t heard, or she was also familiar with the story from hearing Pippin or Mayor Sam tell it, for all she said was, ‘Ready now! One! Two!’

Farry didn’t hear “Three” for she was pulling and he was scrambling despite the dreadful pain it cost him, which made him groan loud enough to drown out her shout.

But somehow it worked, because the next thing he knew, he was panting on the verge, face-down in the grass, still clutching the basket handle, and Goldi was bending over him. ‘Farry?’

‘You’re stronger than you look,’ he said without thinking, and then he winced, for surely she’d be furious with him...

But, fortuitously, she took a completely different meaning for the wince. ‘Does it hurt so awfully?’ she whispered. ‘Where is it hurting you?’

‘My ankles,’ he admitted.

‘Both?’ she said, sitting back on her heels in dismay.

‘I think I can walk on one of them,’ Farry said, ‘if you don’t mind helping me hop along.’ He somehow managed to roll to a sitting position; it might have had something to do with the fact that Goldi was helping him quite a bit. To cover his disgust with himself (Fool of a Took! To fall into a ditch that anyone could plainly see!), he added, ‘Well, we were going to stop and rest and hide until nightfall, any road, so now is as good a time as any.’

‘Where?’ Goldi said. Her voice was quavering a little, Farry noticed, but he said nothing about that.

Instead, he pointed. ‘I’d thought to stop at the third or fourth farm past the Three-Farthing Stone, but we had better settle for the closest farm, instead.’

What he wouldn’t give for Uncle Ferdi and Cousin Rudi to ride up, then and there, and “discover” the fugitives!

They had left Tuckborough at about eight o’ the clock last night, a carefully calculated time of departure. Parents or minders at the Great Smials tucked their charges up in their beds just after eventides were finished, told a bedtime story, waited through the inevitable requests for glasses of water and other essentials that small children think of when fighting off sleep, and finally took themselves off when the little ones dropped off.

Farry knew from making his own study of the matter that a parent or minder (or even a hobbit-servant, such as Sandy) almost always returned half an hour later to check on the sleepers. He’d counted the quarter hours by the chimes of the dwarf-made clock in the sitting room whose sweet tones could be clearly heard all the way from the large sitting room to his bedroom when night-silence had descended on the Thain’s apartments.

He'd shared his knowledge with Goldi yesterday while making his own preparations. As a result, they had food for two or three days of travel if they were careful, and his cousin Rudi ought to be, even now, informing Uncle Ferdibrand of his plans.

Unless they discovered us missing earlier, he fretted. The problem with any plan that involved others was that one could not know if something happened that would require changing the plan.

‘Well something has happened to change the plan,’ he muttered to himself.

Of course, since he was leaning on Goldi’s shoulder and she was helping him hobble along, she heard. ‘What plan?’ she demanded. ‘What change?’

‘Haystacks!’ Farry said, pointing again. ‘We can burrow into one of them and hide for a bit. I think if I can rest my ankle, we ought to be able to go on when darkness falls.’

‘What about food?’

‘We have enough to take us to Frogmorton,’ Farry reassured. ‘There’s an inn there where we can buy a loaf of bread. I brought coins with me.’

‘Coins!’

‘You don’t think we could travel that far with a small sack of food and no money, I hope!’ Farry retorted.

Uncle Ferdi would reach Frogmorton before they did, of course, but perhaps that could work to everyone’s advantage. Ferdi could wait for them at the inn, and he’d be sure to see them when they entered the common room.

*** 

Chapter 9. Second Breakfasts

Laurel Boffin was already tired, and it was barely sunrise. She’d been up in the middle night, or so it felt, though properly the Widow arose precisely between middle night and dawn and put on the teakettle before calling for Lauren. The young tween had dressed hurriedly, then gulped down her tea and wolfed (she stopped to savour the word, savage it sounded, as savage as she felt at the moment) down several current buns with butter and honey. Then she’d laboured for hours, first milking the goats and then gathering the eggs.

The only bright spot was that whilst the lass took care of the hard physical labour that was beyond the Widow’s strength, “Auntie” Petunia would have been stirring up a feast for second breakfast that would have shamed the Head Cook back home at the Manse. If she were home now, Laurel thought, torn between resentment and wistfulness, she might just now be stretching in her featherbed with its covers of eiderdown and soft pillows and silken-smooth bedlinens. She might be thinking of rising... or she just as likely might roll over and pull the covers up, to sleep another hour or three.

Laurel came from the First Family of Waymeet. Her father, Folco, owned the mead-works there, and Way-Mead was generally acknowledged as the best in the Shire, having taken top honours at the Lithedays Faire for more years than the Old Took had boasted when he was finally laid to rest. Folco imported honey from all over the Shire – only the best honey. Like his father before him, he was away from home for weeks every year, travelling to various farms to sample their honey before deciding which he’d purchase for his stocks for the mead-works that year.

The farmers and their families welcomed him warmly and made him feel at home... so much so, that he’d decided his only daughter would benefit from the wholesome atmosphere to be found on one of the farms that he regularly visited. When Laurel’s governess had unexpectedly married and given her notice, Folco had been faced with finding another suitable companion and teacher for his motherless lass, for he’d soon be leaving on his honey-buying rounds and would be gone until autumn arrived. In the end, he made certain arrangements for Laurel that would keep her safe, he hoped, and provide an education of sorts for her while he had to be away.

Her first few weeks away from the Manse had been both interesting and informative. Though a little uncertain at first, she had soon found her place within the large and boisterous Sandheaver family. She had found the farm chores interesting and leavened with fun and frolics on the part of the young hobbits in the family. They never shirked their responsibilities or grumbled. Laurel’s good friend Dahlia would have called them “disgustingly cheerful”, as a matter of fact. 

Oddly enough, she had missed Dahlia’s company and acid wit less and less as she became accustomed to her temporary home. Besides caring for goats and farm fowl, she’d nurtured potted plants on the windowsills, learned to cultivate and harvest herbs, and more. She found sewing on buttons and mending holes and seams much more interesting than trying to stitch an intricate pattern that would likely be folded and stored in a chest when finished. She took to knitting like a duck to water, eyeing the delicate knitted lace her “sister” was creating with the ambition to refine her skills to the point where she could herself turn out such lovely work and create her own patterns. (How Dahlia would have laughed at such an idea!)

Then word had come that old Uncle Agaricus had died, leaving Auntie Petunia alone and lonely. Bertie Sandheaver had promised his great-uncle that he’d find a tenant to run the farm for the old couple, but he’d been occupied with spring ploughing and sowing on his own land and hadn’t begun the search... and now Auntie was in desperate straits, needing help for a fortnight, or perhaps as much as a month! ...until he could find a suitable companion for the sweet old lady.

Bertie sat down the whole family at table for a discussion of the matter. He was of a mind to send one of his children along as a helper – except that each had his or her own function that kept the farm running smoothly, and taking one or two of them away would throw an extra load on the others, and right at planting time!

Laurel looked around the table at the sober faces, tear-streaked at the news of Great-uncle’s passing, and it occurred to her that she was the only superfluous “member” of this kind and welcoming family, and that she could bless them in return for the many blessings they had showered upon her in the past weeks. She raised her hand. ‘“Uncle” Bertie?’ she said.

‘Yes, my lass?’ Bertie said, and despite his sadness, he could still find a smile for the tween.

‘I can go... I can help,’ Laurel said. ‘I’d like to help! It’s just animals, isn’t it? A few goats to milk, and gathering eggs, and feeding and cleaning and home chores and such! You’ve all taught me so much since I’ve come... if you think I know enough to help Auntie Petunia, then I’d be honoured to be allowed to do so.’

Her reward had been to see beaming smiles spread across her “Uncle” and “Aunt’s” tear-washed faces, while she basked in the cheers raised by the children, from the smallest, a faunt, to the oldest, a tween who’d reach his majority next year.

And now... ‘Out of your own mouth you have it,’ she muttered to herself, quoting an old book she’d read once after taking it off a shelf in her father’s library at random. Inside the cover was the inscription, “For FOLCO BOFFIN, from Bilbo, who thought you could benefit from a little more magic in your life”. The book had seemed rather outrageous to her, with its tales of adventures and heroes and skulduggery. (“skulduggery”, she murmured to herself. Such a satisfyingly evocative word!)

Two more weeks. Surely she could cope with the burdens imposed upon a serving-maid and surrogate daughter for another fortnight?

But she was tired. And it was washday, meaning that after second breakfast, she would have to fill the washtub full of hot water that was currently heating in the copper boiler, and stir in soap, and then stir the clothing the Widow added, and fish it out again with the paddle, and dump it into the rinse tub. And then she’d help the Widow wring as much water out as they could manage. Thankfully, a neighbour came to empty the tubs, for they were too heavy even for a tween and an elderly hobbit working together to manage.

She sighed as she catalogued the rest of her chores for this morning. Whilst “Auntie” Petunia was pegging out the wash on the lines, it would be Laurel’s task to trundle wheelbarrows of hay to the byre, and make a pile of hay there in the stall, and take away the old hay and spread it on the kitchen garden, and then fill the racks on the goat-meadow.

Well, at least she’d sleep well tonight! And then the sound of the Widow banging on a metal pan sounded, bright and sharp on the morning air, and the tween laughed and shook off the rest of her ill humour. Second breakfast was on the table!

*** 

Sitting in the common room of The Green Dragon, Ferdibrand stretched and yawned. ‘That was such a delightful first breakfast,’ he said. ‘Added to early breakfast, that we ate before we set out in the wee hours, that makes two meals for today. Shall we start on our third meal now? Or later?’

‘They are serving second breakfast as you speak,’ Rudi replied, indicating a serving maid passing with a well-laden tray full of fresh-baked hand pies both savoury and sweet, from the delectable smells that reached their nostrils. ‘By later, are you referring to elevenses, perhaps?’ 

‘Elevenses!’ Ferdi said, affecting shock. ‘Why, that is some hours away, yet! I hope you are not suggesting that we let a fine-smelling second breakfast get away from us! Nay, I say! If the fish is nibbling on the line, one should always seek to set the hook!’ He scrutinised the tween. ‘Do not try to convince me that you are not about to perish of hunger.’ 

Rudi laughed. ‘As you observed just the other day, tweens are always hungry!’ 

Ferdi eyed him closely. ‘And is it true in your case, I wonder?’

‘To be honest, I don't know if I have ever heard any of your observations go amiss,’ Rudi said with a grin. ‘I even heard the Thain say once that your observational skills are exceptional, and that is what makes you the finest tracker in the Tookland.’ 

‘Flattery can be an effective tool for shaping the outcome you desire,’ Ferdi said, but then he shook his finger in Rudi’s face. ‘Just don’t make a habit of it.’ 

He waved to the server, and it was not too long before they were enjoying a freshly brewed pot of tea and two platters of hand pies, one piled high with sweet pies filled with fruit or custard and the other boasting savoury choices with hearty fillings of meat or fish or poultry and vegetables.

***   

‘It’s lucky the food bag didn’t fall out of my basket when it went flying,’ Farry said as they hobbled slowly along. ‘Had it fallen in the ditch, all the food would have been spoilt with mud and water!’

‘Talk about mud pies,’ Goldi said. ‘I don’t fancy eating mud pies, though when I was younger, the idea didn’t seem to bother me so much.’

‘We made an awful lot of mud pies in our time,’ Farry reflected, sounding a bit like a gaffer reminiscing on the front stoop with a gammer of his acquaintance on a pleasant summer day.

They continued for a few more moments without speaking, perhaps pondering the passage of time, or days gone by. Or perhaps they were only thinking how far they’d come, and how much farther it was to reach the haystacks they were aiming for.

‘It’s lucky no waggons are on the Road right now,’ Goldi said at last.

‘No,’ Farry said. ‘I mean, yes, it’s lucky. No doubt they’d stop to help, and then our journey would be over just when we’ve barely started.’ But secretly, deep down inside, he was wishing for a waggon. Or Rudi and Uncle Ferdi to come along. Or someone.

He wondered what Goldi might be wishing for.

Hopping along on a sore ankle, even with Goldi propping him up with her shoulder, was hard work. More than that, Farry couldn’t seem to keep the tears of pain from leaking from his eyes. Nor could he suppress a grunt of pain with every step he took.

‘I’m sorry, Farry,’ Goldi said. ‘Do you want to stop and rest?’

‘What’re you sorry for?’ Farry gasped. ‘You’re not the one who fell into the ditch!’

‘I can be sorry that I cannot do more to help you,’ Goldi said.

At first, Faramir could find no answer to this sentiment. Finally, he said, ‘You’re doing a lot already.’ But the words sounded inadequate to him even as he spoke them.

‘My dad talked about how he wished he could do more for Mister Frodo, so many times along the way,’ Goldi said, keeping her eyes on the ground ahead of them to avoid any more stumbles or mishaps.

‘He did an awful lot!’ Farry protested. ‘Why, he probably carried a heavier pack than any of them because he thought to bring so many things that he hoped would please or astonish Frodo!’

‘All but rope,’ Goldi murmured. ‘He’s never quite forgiven himself for forgetting that.’

‘And yet, he had rope when they needed it most,’ Farry argued. ‘I remember when we were invited to tea, and he told about the elven rope, and how all was blackness in front of Frodo’s eyes after he slid down that slope – until your dad let down the rope, and it shone with a faint silver light in the darkness. And Frodo was able to grab it, and tie it around his waist, and your dad was able to pull him up to safety once more!’

‘My, you were listening!’ Goldi said, though Farry wasn’t sure whether her tone was admiring or mocking.

‘I always listen well when your dad tells stories,’ he confessed. And then he sagged against Goldi and said, ‘Can we stop a moment? Please?’

They rested, breathing together, for a long moment, long enough for Farry, in his wet and muddy clothes, to begin to feel the chill of the wind. At least the effort of moving was warming, somehow.

As if the chill weren’t bad enough, his companion noticed and remarked on it. ‘You’re shivering,’ Goldi observed.

Farry gritted his teeth and nodded. ‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘Foot by foot, as my da told Uncle Merry...’ But he didn’t feel like resuming the argument about Uncle Merry and the Black Breath, and so he didn’t finish the thought.

They started their hobbling progress again.

‘It’s like my dad said to Mister Frodo, there in the Dark Lands,’ Goldi said. ‘He wished he could carry It for him, but he couldn’t – at least, not until he thought Shelob had killed his Master, and then he had to take It, or It would have fallen into the hands of the Enemy.’

‘That’s right,’ Farry said. ‘My da told me that part of the story. And that Mayor Sam could not carry the Ring, but he did end up carrying his Master for part of the way, when they were near the end.’ He glanced askance at her. ‘You’re not going to try to carry me, I hope?’

‘I’d probably drop you on your head,’ she said seriously. ‘On the other hand...’

Farry looked at her in astonishment. She wasn’t going to try to carry him, was she?

But Goldi pointed. ‘We’re nearly there,’ she said. ‘Not much farther.’

It felt like an eternity, as if they had walked halfway across Middle-earth from the Road to the nearest haystack, but at least they reached their refuge at last.

Though he wished he could drop to the ground then and there and stop moving and struggling and just rest, Farry insisted that they move around to the side of the haystack away from the Road to escape the notice of any casual observer who might see something awry with the hay after they’d burrowed into it.

A sharp metal clanging sounded somewhere nearby, and both children stilled momentarily and then practically dove into the hay without regard for sore ankles or anything else.

At last, they were hidden in the hay. It was shelter of sorts, for the stack was formed to shed water if it should rain, and the wind could no longer reach them. But Faramir still could not seem to get warm, and both ankles throbbed, and if he’d been only a few years younger, he would probably have cried for his mother.

Instead, he swallowed hard, clenched his hands into fists, and forced himself to speak naturally. ‘Well, I’d call that a good day’s effort! Are you hungry?’

‘I could eat an Oliphaunt!’ Goldi answered.

Farry rustled the food bag tucked inside his basket as if he were searching through it. ‘No Oliphaunts, I’m afraid,’ he said as lightly as his throbbing ankles would allow. ‘Would you settle for some bread and cheese?’

*** 

Chapter 10. Elevenses, and Afterwards

Ferdibrand stretched and got up from the table where he and young Rudivar had sat for the last few hours. 

One meal had, more or less, run into another, and the tween thought he might just have eaten enough to satisfy him for once, at least if he was considering the span of time since he’d become a tween. He thought back to some of the stories the Thain had told before the hearth in the great room, and shook his head. How had Pippin, as a tween, survived the journeys of the Fellowship? Of course, he had been near the end of his tween years, and so he’d nearly finished growing. Or was supposed to have nearly finished growing. For he had returned from the Outlands much taller than anyone might’ve expected. But then, so had Master Merry, and he’d already been all grown up – an adult – by the time the Travellers had departed. Yet somehow the Brandybuck had been taller upon his return. It was a mystery, to be sure, and Ent draughts were not a very satisfactory explanation.

Ferdi’s brow wrinkled in response to Rudi’s shake of the head. ‘Don’t tell me!’ he said, one side of his mouth lifting in a wry smile. ‘You’re still hungry!’

‘Very well,’ Rudi said. ‘I won’t tell you such a thing. Not, at least, for another hour or so. Well before nuncheon, more than likely.’

Ferdi hmphed, then added, ‘Since we are not supposed to arrive in Frogmorton until tomorrow evening, I’ve decided we will stay in Bywater today. There is some business of the Thain’s that I can conduct whilst we’re here.’

‘Did you want me to accompany you?’ Rudi asked.

Ferdi gave him a stern look. ‘I’m thinking to glue you to that chair, that you might not miss a single meal whilst we’re here!’ And then he relaxed and chuckled. ‘Your time is your own, lad. Use it wisely!’

‘Don’t I always?’ Rudi said.

Ferdi laughed outright at this. ‘You’re a tween!’ he said. ‘Somehow, I think that “always” does not apply in such cases.’

Rudi joined his da in laughing, and then they hugged briefly before parting ways.

***

Laurel’s shoulders ached from stirring the laundry in the wash tub, lifting it into the rinse tub with the paddle, and then lifting it out of the rinse tub again. Helping the Widow wring out each piece before depositing the clean, wet laundry in baskets for hanging out on the lines was only slightly less strenuous.

But the haying was waiting. (Not “haying” as in cutting hay, of course. At least she didn’t have to worry about the rigours of field work! ...though she wondered what her father would have said about such a thing, had she volunteered to drive the hay waggon or swing a scythe or ply a hayfork in the fields of “Uncle” Bertie’s farm, as two of her “sisters” in that family did?) And at least elevenses, eaten between her washing and haying duties, had renewed her strength and given her a second wind!

She trundled her wheelbarrow out to the haystacks. “Uncle” Bertie kept all the tools on “Auntie” Petunia’s farmstead in excellent condition; thus, the barrow felt much lighter to her than it looked. When she returned to the Manse, she ought to advise her father to make sure their workers’ tools were equally well maintained to lighten the working hobbits’ load.

She ducked into the byre to retrieve the hayfork hanging on the wall just inside the door and hummed a little tune as she shoved the tool into the nearest stack, catching a satisfying heap of hay on the fork and swinging it with a smooth motion onto the barrow.

But as she thrust the fork deeper on her next shove, the haystack shrieked...

Startled nearly out of her wits, Laurel fell back, fork still in her hands, but empty. ‘What!’ she said shakily, at a loss for words.

She jammed the hayfork safely into the soft ground and moved to the stack, pushed her hands in and pulled her arms wide to make a hole. Rather like swimming, she thought. She had no personal knowledge of swimming, an exercise that was unmentionable in polite company outside of the Buckland, but on summer visits to Brandy Hall with her father, who was great friends with Master Meriadoc, she’d seen Bucklanders cavorting in the great River, madness as it had seemed to her. (Though it had also looked cool and refreshing, somehow. Would it really be such a scandal if she were to try it herself?)

And so she swam her way into the prickly hay until she unearthed two dishevelled children. ‘What in Middle-earth!’ she gasped. ‘What’re you doing there?’

‘Being stuck by sharp things!’ the little lass said in outrage. ‘And here we are, minding our own business!’

‘Did I hurt you?’ Laurel said in alarm, discarding the question she’d intended to ask, that being, What d’you think you are doing in the Widow’s haystack?

The lass lifted her chin and looked down her nose at the tween. ‘Luckily for you, ‘twas only a scratch.’ She was holding the hem of her skirt against her arm, where the torn sleeve of her frock peeped out.

‘Let me see that,’ Laurel said, reaching to pull the fabric away.

The child put on a brave face as Laurel gently probed the bleeding scratches with her fingertips.

‘Not too deep,’ Laurel murmured, ‘but we should wash it well anyhow. Come on out of there...’

‘We cannot!’ the lass said. ‘Farry will be in awful trouble if we do!’

For the first time, Laurel looked at the lad – and recognised the son of the Thain. For the second time, she gasped and was at a loss for words. At last, she managed to whisper weakly, ‘What in the name of all that’s good are you doing in “Auntie’s” haystack, Young Master Faramir?’ And because of the lessons her governess had drilled into her, that she might be a credit to her father in interactions with the other Great Families, she made a grand courtesy then and there, even though privately she’d often thought that all the pomp and protocol surrounding the Thain of the Shire was rather ridiculous. (She didn’t know it, and wouldn’t find out for some years, but Pippin would have been in complete agreement with that thought.)

‘Please,’ the lass said. ‘He’s hurt – but he’ll be in awful trouble if word should come out that he’s been off on a lark...’

‘A lark?’ Laurel asked. ‘Aren’t you a little young for that?’ she asked the lad, then looked to the lass, extending the question to her. ‘A dozen years from now, perhaps, but...’

‘It was a matter of a wager with some of the other lads,’ Faramir said solemnly.

Laurel goggled. ‘Well,’ she said, and then she put her hands on her hips in her irritation. ‘It seems that fools are coming younger all the time.’ And then she blushed and apologised, for he was the son of the Thain, after all.

‘Please,’ the lass said. ‘Don’t tell anyone! We... we’ll go back, and no one will be the wiser...’

Laurel saw the lad look sharply at his companion at that. ‘We will?’ he asked quietly, as if there had been some question about the matter.

The lass swallowed hard, hesitated, and then nodded. ‘We will,’ she said.

‘Well I’m glad we’ve cleared all that up,’ Laurel said briskly. Instead of a courtesy, she bowed slightly and said, ‘Laurel Boffin, at your service.’

‘Faramir Took, at yours and your family’s,’ the lad said, making a seated bow. Laurel noticed with concern that the movement brought a grimace of pain to his face.

‘Goldilocks Gamgee, at yours and your family’s,’ the lass said in her turn.

‘The Mayor’s daughter?’ Laurel said, somehow feeling sceptical.

Goldilocks shook her head. ‘He’s not the Mayor at present; he’s in the Southlands,’ she said. ‘My Uncle Tom – Tolman Cotton – is acting as the Mayor whilst he’s away.’

For such a wee lass, she certainly seemed to have a good grasp of the political situation in the Shire.

‘Who ever let you children out of their sight?! Your minders ought to be...’

‘It wasn’t their fault,’ young Faramir said earnestly. ‘We tricked them.’

‘They’ll pay the penalty, nonetheless,’ Laurel said indignantly. ‘Why, I knew that when I was half your age!’

The lad’s face fell, and the colour mounted in his cheeks. ‘I made arrangements that – I hope – will safeguard them from paying the consequences,’ he said in a low voice.

There was no good answer to that, so Laurel merely hmphed. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘You cannot stay there! I’ve got to hay the goats, so that they can fill up the corners when they come in from the field! And you’re in my way!’

‘But we have to stay under cover,’ Goldilocks said. ‘At least until Farry’s ankles are better.’

‘Farry’s ankles?’ Laurel echoed.

The lad looked away, shame still colouring his face, and did not answer.

But Goldilocks forgot her wounded arm and dug busily in the hay to uncover the lad’s legs and feet. ‘His ankles!’ she panted triumphantly, a little out of breath.

‘Here now, don’t bleed all over the hay; I’m sure the nannies won’t like it,’ Laurel said, extending her pocket-handkerchief to the lass, who clapped it on the bleeding scratches once more. She then bent to examine the lad’s ankles and, unladylike though it might be, gave a low whistle. ‘That looks bad.’

‘Well, it’s not good,’ the lass agreed. 

Meanwhile, Farry remained silent, though he could not suppress a yelp of pain when Laurel gently touched the worse of the two ankles, purpling gloriously and swollen to two or three times its proper size. ‘I think I should get help,’ Laurel said, frowning in concern. ‘That looks...’ Though no healer, she thought it might be broken, but she didn’t want to alarm the young ones by saying so aloud.

‘No!’ Farry said. ‘No, Goldi, we’ll be fine,’ he added. ‘I just need to rest it for a day or three.’

‘We’ll run out of food before then,’ Goldi said, suddenly quiet. But Laurel had the feeling the little lass was more concerned for the lad than about the prospects of going hungry.

‘Let me help you then,’ Laurel urged, thinking furiously though she didn’t let it show in her face. “Uncle” Bertie was due to visit them three days from now... perhaps he’d know what to do?

‘Help us?’ Goldi queried, with an intent look.

‘Here’s what I think would be the best course for us to take...’ Laurel began.

*** 

‘...and that’s the whole of it,’ Gorbibold said.

His audience of three mums – his mum Meadowsweet, along with Mistress Pimpernel and Mistress Diamond – sighed and remained quiet for a few breaths.

At last, Mistress Diamond spoke up. ‘And Farry planned all this out with you?’ she said.

Gorbi nodded. ‘And Rudi,’ he said.

‘And the Thain knows all this, and has given his blessing?’ A small wrinkle marred her brow as she stared at him.

‘Well not exactly his blessing,’ Gorbi admitted, ‘but he said he’d let it play out before passing judgement.’ He held back a gulp at the thought of the Thain’s judgement hanging over their heads, his and Rudi’s, and then he straightened and lifted his chin firmly. At least they’d kept their fathers clear of Pippin’s wrath this time. Which was the whole point of the conspiracy. Farry did not want the minders or the escort or Ferdibrand or Tolibold to suffer the consequences for this day’s work – or any of the days that might follow before the situation was resolved. The sons of Ferdibrand and Tolibold were in complete agreement on that account.

‘And Ferdi is, even as you’ve been telling us about this, on their trail?’ Diamond said.

Pimpernel reached over and took Diamond’s hand. ‘As I told you this morning, whilst Gorbi was filling in my brother on all the details in the Plan,’ she said, and looking over at Meadowsweet, she added, ‘And as I told you, and then Tolly, only a little later, since your son is also involved.’ 

At risk, she might have said, for her brother had shown precious little restraint in previous instances when he’d got the idea that someone had endangered young Faramir, either directly or through carelessness.

‘And Rudi can guide him at any time to where the children are?’ Diamond asked. Her look hardened at Gorbi’s hesitation. ‘He can, can’t he?’

‘Not exactly,’ Gorbi said.

Diamond rolled her eyes and looked to Pimpernel. ‘I abhor it when your brother uses such language with me,’ she said. ‘I can always tell when Pippin’s evading me...’

‘What does “not exactly” mean?’ Meadowsweet asked her son sternly.

‘It means, they – we – established checkpoints, or touchpoints, where Rudi knows Farry plans to direct their steps.’

‘Which is it?’ Pimpernel demanded, and Gorbi was confused until she clarified, ‘they... or we?’

‘We – in the planning,’ Gorbi explained, ‘and they – in the doing. We are all three of us carrying out the plan that we all made together.’ He stopped speaking for a moment to survey the three mothers. ‘My part is to stay behind, to answer questions, to try and fend off the Thain long enough for Farry’s plan to come to fruition.’

‘Fend off the Thain,’ Diamond repeated quietly, and nodded. ‘You are brutally honest...’ she held up a restraining hand when the others would have spoken, ‘...but it’s true, nonetheless. My husband has reacted impulsively in the past, and though he has learnt hard lessons,’ her eyes seemed kinder, somehow, and more understanding as she spoke on, ‘I cannot say I would blame the conspirators for setting up safeguards and controlling the situation – and the outcome – to the best of their ability.’

There was real sympathy in her face as she regarded the tween standing before them. ‘I hope you understand that if any harm comes to the children...’

Gorbi blanched and swallowed hard. ‘I do,’ he said. ‘Rudi and I do, indeed.’ For they would bear the brunt of the Thain’s wrath should things go terribly wrong. Faramir, after all, was the son of the Thain.

*** 

Chapter 11. Finders Keepers?

~ late nooning to teatime ~

Rather than walking the five miles from Bywater to the Three-Farthing Stone, Rudivar decided to ride Snowfoot so that he could go further and still be back in time to meet Ferdibrand for tea. He asked the proprietor to pack a bag of food for him to take on a picnic, and seeing that he was a tween, and Ferdi had left instructions that Rudi could order any food he wished, this service was provided without a second thought. 

And so Rudi left the inn well-equipped to deal with any hunger pangs that might come up on his part – or on the part of those he sought, for that matter. He’d eaten well at elevenses, and although he wasn’t quite hungry again by noon, he’d asked if he might eat his midday meal an hour early and not at one o’ the clock, for the proprietor of The Green Dragon kept to the custom of a late noontide meal for the inn’s general offering.

As soon as he’d polished off his generous bowl of meaty stew and the loaf of bread that had accompanied it, he thanked the serving lass and asked her to convey his warmest regards to the cook, stood up from his chair, and hefted the heavy bag of food appreciatively.

Of course, the three servers (for two more had come in to help serve the influx of customers expected for the late nooning) shook their heads after he walked out the door of the common room. Tweens! ‘Good appetite on that one,’ one whispered to the other.

‘I wonder how much he eats at home,’ the second responded.

‘P’rhaps he’s trying to grow as tall as his father!’ the first server said with a giggle.

‘Or as tall as the Thain!’ said the third, who’d identified the tween and his father as Tooks.

‘No one is as tall as the Thain.’

‘Lasses! Lad!’ The proprietor called them to attention, and they broke apart and scurried to begin serving the tables that were rapidly filling with local hobbits.

It took about an hour for Rudi to reach the Three-Farthing Stone, where he halted his pony to consider. ‘Third or fourth farm after the Stone,’ he said to himself, looking down the Road. ‘But we didn’t think to specify whether we were talking about farmsteads counting those on the northern side or on the southern side or counting all of them on both sides!’

He squinted at the angle of the Sun and calculated that since it would take him an hour to ride back to Bywater, he’d have two hours for his search. Two-and-a-half hours if they cantered all the way back. Dared he gallop back to the inn, considering the mild spring temperatures, without risking his da’s ire and a lecture on the proper treatment of ponies?

As he touched his heel to Snowfoot’s side to send her into a walk, he shook his head at himself. The extra minutes gained would not be worth arriving on a sweating or even lathered pony. ‘This is hardly the All-Shire Race!’ he muttered, echoing any number of adults, including the Thain, the Steward, the Stable Master, and his own da who were quick to rebuke heedless tweens. ‘No excuses!’ he added, and grinned at the imaginary critics. Not even if I’m trying to find the son of the Thain?

He stroked Snowfoot’s neck. ‘Let’s set a nice, steady pace, lass,’ he said, signalling for an easy walk. ‘We’ll just amble on down to the sixth farmstead on this side, and then we’ll work our way back to the Stone on the other side, keeping an eye on the time, of course!’

According to the Plan, if the little lad was able to persuade small Goldi to hide herself in a haystack whilst he “took a look about”, Farry would be looking out for Rudi from late nooning until teatime, just in case. He’d perch himself in an out-of-the-way location where he’d still be easily seen if he waved his arms.

If Rudy happened to find Farry, he’d leave the food he carried with the lad, who would pass it off as part of the supplies he’d brought with them. If he didn’t find Faramir, why, the tween would enjoy a fine picnic on his return to the Three-Farthing Stone, keeping in mind that the next checkpoint would be the inn at Frogmorton. 

Rudi wasn’t necessarily supposed to be looking for the travellers this day; it was only a contingency they’d built into the Plan. There was no guarantee that Farry would be watching out for him. However, since his da had released him to his own devices, taking a look at the farms immediately to the east of the Three-Farthing Stone seemed more interesting than sitting in the common room of The Green Dragon all day, no matter how good the food was. He chuckled aloud and patted the bag of food hanging from his saddle. Especially when I can bring a goodly portion of that excellent food with me!

According to the Plan, whether or not Rudi was able to supplement their supply of food, the travellers would set out for Frogmorton at sunset. They’d go to ground again at dawn in a haystack just outside Frogmorton and then, if all went as planned, they’d go to the inn at sunset to buy some loaves of bread, pretending it was for their family’s eventides, and Rudi and Ferdi would be waiting in a dark corner of the common room, watching for a signal from Faramir to swoop upon the children... or wait, should the lass prove exceptionally stubborn (and hadn’t her father, the Mayor, shown himself as such, travelling all the way to the Fiery Mountain and back?). If that were the case, the Plan allowed for them to try again at the inn in Budgeford.

Rudi hoped it wouldn’t come to that! He also knew the other conspirators were in complete agreement. Gorbi had the difficult task of keeping the Thain and Mistress from worry. Rudi wasn’t sure if the other tween’s part in the conspiracy were more or less difficult than that young Faramir had taken on... “helping” Goldilocks Gamgee run away to Gondor while not actually helping. If Rudi didn’t know the lad so well, he’d never have believed that a twelve-year-old (or very nearly so) could exercise the necessary judgement, understanding and tact.

In fact, in his estimation, young Faramir had the makings of an excellent Thain. If only his father should live long enough to pass the office on to the lad...

To be safe, as they ambled along, Rudi scrutinised each of the six farmsteads on the northern side of the Road in turn before turning the pony around. Only five of them had haystacks, indicating the presence of herd animals. He’d also noted in passing that five farmsteads lined the Road on the southern side, all of which had haystacks, though he’d allotted the majority of his attention to the northern landscape.

He turned the pony around towards Bywater again, checked the angle of the Sun, and thought he had enough time to walk all the way to the Three-Farthing Stone and then canter back to Bywater. If he got hungry, he’d just have to eat in the saddle, for as a result of his thorough approach, he was fairly certain he’d have no extra time for a picnic by the time he finished his self-appointed task.

And nothing to show for it, except for fresh air, sunshine, and a pleasant ride, at least if his luck remained the same as it had started out on this little excursion of his. He snorted at himself. He could think of worse things.

***

Even though meeting up with young Faramir was only a possibility, Rudi couldn’t help feeling discouraged as he passed the last farm on the south side of the Road before the Three-Farthing Stone. He’d carefully studied each farm in turn – the stacks, the trees, the bushes, even the ditch running alongside the Road, hoping against hope that a small lad would pop up suddenly as they passed, startling the pony, and call a cheerful greeting.

But there was no sign of young Faramir anywhere. In his perturbation, he absently dipped his hand into the bag and ate some of the food he carried, trying to reassure himself that it didn’t matter, that this was simply a contingency they’d planned on. He looked ahead to mark the location of the Three-Farthing Stone and then measured the angle of the Sun in the sky. Yes, he really ought to nudge the pony into her rocking-chair canter now and not wait until they reached the Stone. He’d taken too long in his searching, and it was looking all too likely that they’d have to gallop the five miles or so to Bywater – and even at that, he might come late to tea.

Despite the need to hurry, Rudi halted Snowfoot just beyond the last (or first, depending if one were coming or going) farm, though for the life of him, he couldn’t have explained why he’d felt an overwhelming impulse to do so. At first, he was keenly aware of the minutes ticking away but couldn’t bring himself to move or to urge the pony into motion. After several minutes of frozen consternation, his perturbation communicated itself to Snowfoot, and she danced under him and then half-reared in protest.

‘Steady, lass,’ he said, stroking the pony’s soft hide and soothing her until she quieted at last. Once he didn’t have to worry about the pony anymore, he listened for all he was worth as his eyes scanned his surroundings. The back of his neck prickled in warning. Something – he’d seen something but not seen it, he thought, remembering Ferdi’s lessons in hunting and tracking. And now he lost all sense of time passing as he concentrated fiercely now on the problem.

What had it been?

Where had it been?

He turned Snowfoot around and scrutinised the landscape on both sides of the Road, seeking for something out of place... And then he knew that the luck was with him, after all. Or so it seemed to him. Only time would tell.

A tween was just coming out of a byre. Her hair was bound up in a bright kerchief that had briefly caught his eye in passing as she had gone into the byre sometime earlier, just as Snowfoot and Rudi had been passing, with a basket on her arm.

Why would she be carrying a basket? It was the wrong time of day for egg-gathering, as far as he knew. Moreover, byres typically housed larger animals, such as goats or the small shaggy cows found in the Shire whose heifers were kept for milk and hair that could be spun into yarn, while steers provided high-quality meat. Furthermore, he could plainly see goats grazing in the field beyond the farmyard.

Granted, she might be carrying medicine for a sick beast out to the byre, but something told Rudi that this was not the case. He might well be spinning whole cloth from spiderwebs, but... there was that prickling at the back of his neck. He knew from past experience that he must not ignore the feeling but would be well-served to explore the reasons for it.

He turned Snowfoot’s head towards the farm and jogged her slowly towards the lass. ‘Hi!’ he called, raising his hand in greeting.

Half-way between the byre and the smial, she stopped, bobbing a courtesy at him as he rode up to her. ‘Can I help you with something, young sir?’ she said, her voice low and pleasant, and though she sounded like a farm lass, as he would have expected from her looks, her manner did not quite ring true to him, feeling like another puzzle for him to solve. He scrutinised her face in search of the answer. Her eyes were wide, and he thought he caught a wary look before she distracted him with a bright smile. ‘Are ye lost, somehow?’ 

‘Good day to you, miss,’ Rudi answered. ‘I was wondering...’

‘The Three-Farthing Stone is just a little farther along the Road,’ she said, pointing with her free hand. ‘In case you were wondering.’

‘I’m not lost,’ Rudi said, ‘though I thank you for your courtesy. But I am looking for someone who might be.’

Her air of puzzlement was not quite convincing. ‘Someone who might be?’ And then she brightened. ‘Perhaps you are seeking a cool drink of water for your pony or yourself?’ He had the distinct impression that she was trying to distract him. From what? he wondered.

Rudy felt one side of his mouth twist in a wry grin. ‘You’re not as dull of wit as you’d like me to believe, lass,’ he said, and then watched the play of emotions across her face. Irritation, he thought. Aggravation, shading into thoughtfulness, and finally curiosity.

‘Who are you?’ she demanded.

He bowed in the saddle. ‘Rudivar Bolger, at your service,’ he said.

She did not offer her name or her service (or her family’s service, for that matter) but simply tilted her head to one side. ‘I thought you were a Took,’ she said, surprising him.

‘I’m that, too,’ he replied, tipping his cap to her.

She dropped the appearance and talk of a farm lass, standing straighter, somehow, and speaking in the kind of cultured tones heard in one of the Great Holes. ‘You are a Took, are you? And are you perhaps looking for a lost Took relation?’

‘As a matter of fact,’ he answered, ‘I was to meet my cousin along this stretch of the Road at just about this time of day, if not a little earlier. I must admit, I was expecting to find him earlier...’ He lifted the bag attached to his saddle. ‘I was to bring him a fresh supply of food...’ ...although he was hoping I might do so secretly so that the little lass didn’t twig to the fact that we’re conspirators of sorts. But that seemed too complicated a topic to discuss at first acquaintance.

‘But I just...’ she began, looking down at her basket, and then she stopped and looked to him once more.

‘You just brought them a meal?’ Rudi said. ‘You’re helping them?’

‘Them?’ she said, suddenly wary again.

‘Yes,’ Rudi said. ‘A lass and a lad... children, really. I’m watching out for them.’

Despite the impediment the basket offered, she put her hands on her hips and regarded him severely. ‘You call this watching out for them?’ she said. ‘I’d like to know what neglect looks like, in your case!’

Suspicions confirmed, Rudi dismounted. ‘If you’ll excuse me, miss...’ he said, moving towards the byre.

‘I will not!’ she said, shifting to stand in his way.

A thin, cracked voice sounded behind him. ‘Is there some sort of problem, Laurel?’

Rudi turned to see a very elderly gammer standing behind him, holding a rolling pin like a weapon of sorts. Her stern look belied the many laugh lines that graced her countenance. ‘I hope a nice young fella like you isn’t thinking o’ bothering my lass!’ She tossed her head, ruffling her silvery curls.

Rudi lifted his hands in a placating manner. ‘I wouldn’t think of it!’ he answered. ‘I just—’

‘All is well, Auntie!’ Laurel interrupted.

‘If this is about those children i’ the byre,’ the old lady said. Both tweens goggled at her.

Rudi was speechless, but the lass – Laurel? The name was as graceful as its owner, he was thinking – sputtered, ‘How ever did you know, Auntie?’

The gammer’s fierce look dissolved into a laugh, and she wagged the rolling pin at both tweens. ‘I know how much there is i’ the pantry – and how much there isn’t! And I’ve seen how much you’ve eaten, the last fortnight, and how much you haven’t! And so I peeped into the byre after you’d taken a basket of nuncheon out t’ the yard with you, and I saw them!’

‘But Auntie!’ the lass said. ‘I hope you didn’t frighten them away!’

The old lady snorted gently. ‘With that ankle?’ she said. ‘I watched you splint it, though none of you saw me peeping ’round the corner of the doorway, and then you wrapped it up – I can only think that the ice you chipped off’n a block i’ the ice cellar is doing some good there... And you had your back to me, any road, and so you didn’t see me.’

But Rudi broke in. ‘Ankle?’ he said anxiously, his heart in his throat. ‘They’re hurt?’

‘Just the lad,’ “Auntie” said, sending Rudi’s heart plummeting to his toes. What would the Thain do to him? And Gorbi?

But the old lady was still speaking. ‘And they didn’t see me either, for I watched them both fall asleep pretty quick after they’d et that good meal you took out t’ them... And then when I saw you packin’ up the basket again with the used dishes and all, I thought I had better check the washing to see if any of it might be dry already in this nice breeze we’ve had today.’ She eyed the lass. ‘And just what were you planning t’ do with them, I’d like t’ know?’

‘I was going to wait for Uncle Bertie to come and ask him what to do,’ Laurel said in a small voice. ‘He told me to be a help and not a bother to you, and that a shock would not be good for your... for your heart, and so I was afraid that telling you about it would be too much of a bother.’

The old lady snorted more vigorously at this. ‘Nonsense!’ she said. She fixed her faded eyes on Rudi. ‘And you’ve come lookin’ for them, I warrant?’

‘I did. I mean, I have,’ Rudi said humbly. And then he remembered his manners and snatched his cap off his head. He bowed. ‘Rudivar Bolger, at your service.’

‘Well that’s all fine and good,’ “Auntie” said. ‘But what about those little ones?’

‘I—’ Rudi said. He swallowed hard and began again. ‘It was a game,’ he said. ‘They were playing a game, and I was to find them, and...’

‘Come into the smial,’ the old lady said abruptly. ‘I dunno about you, but I think better o’er a pot o’ tea.’

*** 

Chapter 12. Losers Weepers?

At this point, it might be helpful to remember that Rudivar Bolger (and Took) was a very young tween. His last meal (not counting the handful he’d absently fished out of the sack of supplies he’d brought for Farry and Goldi) had been nearly four hours earlier. Added to the emptiness of his stomach and the accompanying confusion that was increasingly affecting his thoughts (perhaps one of the reasons why tweens are not generally known for clear thinking) was the shock of hearing that the son of the Thain had been injured! And badly enough that his ankle needed splinting and applications of ice!

Indeed, the future looked bleak to him in that moment – if he could even be said to have a future, that is. Such is a common thought for a tween, especially a tween whose stomach is empty, or nearly so. Tweens grow out of their nonsense, of course, once the long-drawn-out tweenish growth-spurt that transforms one from a child into an adult is finished. But alas, poor Rudi... for he was but a young tween at that point in time and was only beginning to learn to cope with the trials inherent to that stage of development. In addition, he’d had no “growing sleep” the previous night, and his weariness was beginning to tell heavily on him.

Thus, when the gammer took him by the arm and began to direct his steps to the smial, making him feel like a prisoner under guard, all thoughts of cantering – or galloping – back to The Green Dragon fled. His mind went blank; he lost all sense of the time, and became the epitome of an “empty-headed tween” and a fair illustration of the byword amongst Shire-folk.

“Auntie” turned her head to address Laurel. ‘Lass! Tie up his pony for him? The poor wee lad is nearly dropping from hunger!’

The thought of Snowfoot broke through Rudi’s misery, and he tried to pull away. ‘I can—’

‘Nonsense!’ the old hobbit contradicted, renewing her grip on him, her strong, wiry fingers digging into his arm like the talons of a bird of prey, strengthening his impression that he was being dragged to his doom. ‘Come along!’

Doom turned out to be the table in the kitchen, where a fresh, bright cloth had been spread, a cosied teapot steamed, and a platter of warm currant scones sent their inviting fragrance into the air.

‘Sit yoursel’ down,’ the gammer ordered, pushing Rudi towards the nearest chair. Once he’d obeyed, she gave a firm nod and then turned to the cupboard to fetch another plate, which she laid on the table before him, along with a knife and teaspoon and an additional mug that she took down from a hook. ‘That’s my Gary’s mug,’ she said as she took her own place at the table and picked up the teapot to pour out. ‘Mind you don’t drop it.’

Rudi hastily put his hands in his lap to avoid coming near the mug. Wondering how he was supposed to drink tea without touching his mug did not occur to him.

Laurel, who’d entered in time to hear the warning, chided gently, ‘O Auntie!’ and swapped the mug at Rudi’s place with the mug at the third place set at the table – her own. ‘I’ll mind Uncle Agaricus’s cup for you; don’t you worry about that.’ She eyed Rudi. ‘His colour’s not all that good. If I didn’t know better, I should think he might be about to faint.’

Rudi stirred. ‘I’m well,’ he protested, blinking.

‘You’ll be well,’ the old gammer said, pouring steaming tea into his mug. Laurel reached over to spoon a double-dollop of honey into Rudi’s mug, stirred vigorously, and added a generous splash of goats’ milk from the pitcher. ‘Now drink your tea!’ Auntie ordered.

Rudi drank his tea. The beverage brought with it a feeling of comforting warmth that spread outward, dissipating a chill he hadn’t known was there. His vision cleared and he suddenly noticed the plate in front of him, holding a scone with butter and jam, and as he looked up, he saw Laurel buttering another, which she then deposited on his plate beside the first. ‘Eat!’ the lass said, sounding almost like an echo of her “Auntie”.

For the next half hour or so, the old hobbit and her young tween helper continued to ply their guest with food and drink, with Laurel alternating between restoring her own energies and nagging Rudi to “have another”!

Rudi was beginning to feel better with the food and kind attention when a sound that came from behind him suddenly had him feeling worse again. He hoped it might be Uncle Bertie, whoever that might be, but it sounded remarkably like his da, clearing his throat.

“Auntie” hopped up from her chair, as spry as a lively cricket. ‘Hullo!’ she chirped in her high, cracked voice. ‘Is there something ye be needin’?’

‘Seems as if I’ve found it,’ came Ferdi’s dry tones from the doorway.

Rudi spun around, nearly falling in his haste. ‘Da!’

As Ferdibrand reached out to steady the lad, “Auntie” was saying, ‘But where are my manners?’ She dropped a creditable courtesy and added, ‘Petunia Sandheaver, at yer service!’

Maintaining his hold on the tween, Ferdi bowed to the old hobbit and answered, ‘Ferdibrand Took. At yours, and your family’s... but it’s rather the other way around, I should think.’

‘This’un belongs to you?’ “Auntie” asked.

‘You might say that,’ Ferdi said. ‘We were supposed to take tea together some time ago, but it appears he had a prior engagement.’

Rudi coloured and opened his mouth to explain, but “Auntie” wasn’t finished.

‘And the children in the byre... are they yours as well?’

Ferdi’s grip on Rudi’s arm tightened, and his eyebrows went up, though he continued to speak in a bland tone. ‘I should say so,’ he said. ‘Though it was my impression that we were not supposed to catch them so early in the game...’

‘The game!’ Laurel said excitedly. ‘Why, that’s what Rudi called it! And what the little lad said they were playing! Some grand version of “I hide and you seek me”! And Rudi, here, said he was watching over them! But I didn’t believe him!’

Watching out for them, actually. Rudi wanted to correct her, but it seemed more prudent to keep his mouth shut.

‘The lad is nothing if not honest,’ Ferdi said, and his tight hold relaxed somewhat, though he guided the youth back to the table and directed him to sit down. ‘Have another cup of tea,’ he murmured.

Rudi passed his hand over his eyes and apologised to all and sundry. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me...’ he began.

‘It might have something to do with no sleep and a great deal of worry,’ Ferdi said, patting his son’s shoulder. ‘But all will be well, lad.’

‘That’s what I’ve been tellin’ him,’ “Auntie” said, moving to take a teacup and saucer from the shelf, as well as another plate. ‘Please,’ she added, ‘join us. I’m afraid we’ve no more mugs...’

‘My mother taught me to use a teacup nearly as well as a mug,’ Ferdi answered with a smile, and the old lady laughed delightedly as she poured out more tea.

Still smiling, the newest arrival lifted an empty chair from its peg on the wall and sat himself down at the table, then accepted the cup and its saucer.

But he lost his smile as Rudi said urgently, ‘But Da, Farry’s been injured!’

‘Young Faramir’s hurt?’ Ferdi put the teacup down on its saucer and half-rose from his chair.

‘Aye,’ Rudi said. At the same time, Laurel was saying, ‘I think he may have broken his ankle. I splinted it, and put a little ice on it – though it will have all melted away by now...’ Auntie Rosemary, Uncle Bertie’s wife had taught her to apply ice in small amounts, let it melt, and then wait some time before applying more, for it could inflict additional injury to leave an ice pack against the skin for too long.

‘But neither of us is a healer,’ “Auntie” put in. ‘The lass simply applied some of the common sense she’s been taught. I was going to send her for the healer just as soon as she’d got some tea and scones in her to speed her on her way.’ She fixed the Thain’s special assistant with a keen glance and said, ‘The children are asleep, and from what I saw of them, they’re likely to stay asleep for a little while yet. Exhausted, they looked, and before falling asleep, they devoured the food my Laurel brought them as if they were starving young wolves!’

‘They walked a long way,’ Ferdi said, sitting back down but not relaxing in his chair. To be polite, he took a scone from the serving plate, buttered it, and took a bite, then picked up his teacup and sipped to wash the morsel down. ‘Mmm, good,’ he said, toasting “Auntie” with his teacup.

‘And now it’s time to bring them home,’ Rudi said. ‘Since Farry’s injured...’

‘But is the game truly finished?’ Ferdi said.

“Auntie” and Laurel stared at him. The lad’s ankle was badly sprained, at the least, and quite possibly broken!

But then, with sudden insight beyond her years, Laurel said slowly, ‘Goldi said that they would go back, “and no one would be the wiser”.’

Rudi drew a sharp breath. Ferdi placed his hand on the lad’s and asked, ‘Goldi said so?’

Laurel nodded firmly. ‘It was the lass who said so! And it wasn’t as if the lad wanted to stay hidden and continue the game... but that he was letting her be the one to decide.’ Her brows knit together, and then her face cleared and she said triumphantly, ‘But she talked as if she were protecting him somehow! She was so worried that he’d be in “awful trouble”!’ And then she added earnestly, ‘Why, I saw tears in her eyes when she pleaded with me not to give them away but to let them hide here until Farry’s ankle was better. And though she turned her head and wiped at her face, she was weeping, I think, when she said she wanted them to go back without anyone getting in trouble! And it seemed to me that her tears were more on his account than her own!’

Ferdi nodded. ‘I see,’ he said very quietly. And then he seemed to look into a far distance, pondering, before returning to the here and now. At last, he added, ‘Then, it seems, they’ve won the game.’ 

He finished his scone in a few more bites, murmured something about it being “delicious”, then drained his teacup and set it precisely on the saucer. After contemplating the cup and saucer for a moment, he held up a restraining hand to prevent “Auntie” from refilling his cup and rose from his chair. ‘If you’ll just take me to them...’ he said.

‘Laurel,’ the old lady said, rising from her chair. ‘Take the hobbit out to the byre.’ As Laurel rose obediently, the old hobbit fixed Rudi with a sharp glance. ‘And ye, lad, are ye feeling more yoursel’?’

‘I’m well,’ Rudi said, hastily standing to his feet.

‘Good!’ “Auntie” said. ‘Then out wit’ ye! For after the washing up, it’s sweepin’ and scrubbin’, and I don’t need you hobbits underfoot and tracking across the wet floor!’

Ferdi picked up his chair and nodded to Rudi to do the same. They hung their chairs up on the waiting pegs on the wall and followed with the other two chairs.

As they turned back to “Auntie” and Laurel, the gammer thanked them for their courtesy.

‘We’re the ones owing thanks,’ Ferdi said with a bow. Rudi hastily offered a bow and thanks of his own, and then Laurel led the two visitors out the door and to the byre where the children were sleeping on a soft bed of hay and blankets.

*** 

That evening over supper, once all the visitors had departed and they had the farm all to themselves again, “Auntie” and Laurel talked about the odd happenings of the day. The old hobbit shook her head over the vagaries of the Tooks. ‘What sort of hobbits play a child’s game in such a far-reaching manner?’ she said. ‘Those Tooks! Practically a law unto themselves!’

‘Well,’ Laurel said thoughtfully. ‘They did keep the Tookland from being overrun by ruffians in Lotho’s time...’

‘Hmmm,’ “Auntie” mused, then nodded. ‘I think you might just have something there, lass...’ She took a sip of her tea. ‘And yet...’ she added. ‘It makes you wonder just what their parents are thinking...’

*** 

Chapter 13. Interlude

(Yuletide, about two decades later, at Budge Hall in Bridgefields, East Farthing)

Adelbrim, the relatively youthful head of the Thain’s escort, laughed heartily as Farry finished his story. ‘So that was your first meeting?’ he said to The Bolger and the charming Mistress of Budge Hall. ‘And you kept on thinking she was just a farm lass?’ he asked Rudi, ‘for years after?’ And turning to grin at Laurel, he said, ‘And you thought he was “just a Tookish hunter” and probably beneath your notice!’

‘Quite probably,’ Laurel said, looking down demurely though a smile was tugging at the sides of her mouth. ‘Tooks are generally known to be daft, after all.’ She looked up again, met Farry’s eye, and smirked. ‘Present company included!’

The escort moved injudiciously and winced. 

‘Adelbrim?’ Laurel said, and Goldi spoke at the same time. ‘Is all well with you, Adel?’

Rudi half-rose from his seat. ‘Shall I ask Mallow to brew you another cup of willow-bark tea? Or stir up something stronger?’

‘I already have something stronger, thank you very much!’ Adelbrim said, lifting the glass of brandy in his good hand in a toast. Though his injury clearly troubled him, a conspiracy of silence emerged in the face of his obvious reluctance to deal with healers and their potions.

After toasting “To the acting Thain and his Mistress!”, Adelbrim put his glass down to ease his arm in its sling. The mischief dancing in his eyes was scarcely dampened by the wounds inflicted when he’d defended Farry and Goldi with bow and body from the leader of the pack of wolves that had interrupted their journey to Budgeford. ‘As I am a Took only by adoption,’ he said, ‘I will be happy to lend a note of stability to the party.’

‘Hah,’ Goldi said. ‘I’d like to see you try!’

But the head of escort paid her challenge little heed, moving the conversation firmly back to the original topic. ‘So, Goldi,’ (he was under strict orders never to call her “Mistress”, for she claimed it made her feel as if she should look around for Diamond), ‘after you and Laurel became acquainted, you kept running into each other at the Bywater market...’

‘We had to become fast friends – it was either that, or become sworn enemies,’ Laurel said.

‘O you and your books!’ Goldi said. ‘Sworn enemies, indeed!’

‘And of course, Farry and Rudi are cousins,’ (and as Farry’s adopted “brother”, Adel was Rudi’s cousin as well; more importantly, neither of the two gentlehobbits would put up with him treating them like his betters), ‘by blood, and then tied even more closely by Ferdibrand’s marriage to the Thain’s sister.’ He paused to consider, then went on. ‘And you and Farry were friends from your childhood, Goldi,’ (Adelbrim knew better than to use a word like “sweethearts”). ‘Yet it seems to me that Rudi took an awfully long time to realise that Laurel was a Boffin of Waymoot and not a simple farm lass...’ He sipped at his brandy and leaned back in his chair, looking from one to another of his companions before proclaiming, ‘And people call Tooks daft!’ 

‘Well when the Boffins visited the Great Smials at Yuletide over the years, my beloved was always dressed like an heiress! A princess, even!’

Laurel dropped her gaze. ‘My father always showered me with the finest things his money could buy... he didn’t know any better.’ She looked up again and added, as if she felt the need to defend poor misguided Folco, ‘The only time we socialised with other hobbits of the gentry was at balls and other grand affairs, so that’s how he thought “fine ladies” were supposed to dress all the time! Thank goodness for Auntie Petunia and life on the farm the other nine months of the year...’

Rudi nodded stoutly. ‘In her fine clothes and jewels—’ 

‘Jewels!’ Laurel exclaimed. ‘On a child!’ She huffed in exasperation.

But Rudi wasn’t finished. ‘—she never even came close to resembling the farm lass I so often met when I stopped at the farm between early Spring and late Autumn to drop off a brace of rabbits or haunch of venison!’ Rudi shook his head and protested, ‘Why, I thought of her as two different people with a chance resemblance for the longest time!’

‘My poor darling,’ Laurel cooed, snuggling against Rudi’s side. ‘And added to that, he was but an empty-headed tween for the first decade of our acquaintance!’

Rudi forbore from saying that she’d also been a tween all that time, for Laurel had seldom – and perhaps never – fit the epithet “empty-headed”. Instead, he put his arm around her to pull her closer. ‘Good thing one of us has a good head on her shoulders!’

‘Hah!’ Laurel said, looking up at him. ‘You seem to forget that I’m all too familiar with your flattering ways...’

‘Not at all,’ Rudi said, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose.

‘So how did you discover your mistake?’ Adelbrim wanted to know.

Rudi smiled down at Laurel and then met the escort’s curious gaze. ‘My mother scolded me into dancing,’ he said. ‘It was the first grand ball of the season after I came of age – Yuletide at the Great Smials.’

Adelbrim pretended to shudder. ‘Horrors!’ he said.

‘And my father reminded me that I had come of age, and I had better begin sizing up potential husbands,’ Laurel put in. ‘Even though I’d told him many times, I had no intention of marrying! I knew I needed no husband to make me contented, for I’d watched Auntie Petunia live quite contentedly for years after Uncle Agaricus died!’

‘But aren’t there other reasons for marrying?’ Adelbrim said. ‘Besides contentment, there’s companionship... not to mention heirs...’ Laurel gave a disdainful sniff, but Adelbrim ploughed on. ‘What about love?’

Laurel stared him down – or tried to. But when he steadily met her gaze, she nodded at last, and said, more quietly, ‘I had no interest in all the would-be suitors who kept buzzing around me like bees to the flower... for how would I know if they were interested in me and not just the heiress to the richest mead-works in the Shire?’

Adel pursed his lips slightly and tilted his head to consider. ‘And Rudi...’ he said, ‘...was “just a Took” among many, and not even one of the gentry, so far as one could tell from casual acquaintance,’ Rudi snorted at this, ‘but merely a hunter, at that. At best, you might call him an archer! And I suppose...’ he went on, addressing The Bolger, ‘...you dressed like a hunter and not like the heir to one of the richest fortunes in the Great Families...’

‘Hunter’s clothes are so much more comfortable,’ Rudi said, and Faramir laughed in complete accord. The Bolger fingered the collar of his snowy linen shirt and said, ‘I only wear fine clothes when I’m conducting business and I want to be taken seriously.’

‘You’re in good company,’ Farry said. ‘King Elessar follows much the same practice.’

‘And so, dressed in your finest, having received your inheritance and assumed the title of The Bolger, you asked Laurel to dance, and the two of you took your places, joined hands, and led out, and once the dance was safely underway, you began talking...’

‘And discovered they were none other than the farm lass and the hunter’s adopted son!’ Goldi laughed. ‘Like something out of a fairy tale!’

‘And the rest is history!’ Adelbrim proclaimed. He picked up his brandy glass again and lifted it high. ‘To fairy-tale endings!’

And they all lifted their glasses high, proclaimed, ‘To fairy-tale endings!’ and drank the toast with delight.

‘But...’ said Adelbrim when all had set their glasses down and Rudi had refilled them.

‘Only one “but” will I allow this night!’ Farry said in fair imitation of his father imitating Gandalf.

‘But what judgement did the Thain pronounce on the conspirators in the end?’ the escort asked, looking around the circle. ‘For all are here save Gorbi, whom we left back at the Smials immersed in planning new delvings in the Spring... so none of you can wink at me and say, “It’s not my news to tell!”, now, can you?’

Laurel winked at him saucily and said, ‘Well it’s certainly not my news to tell! I wasn’t there...’

‘Aha!’ Adelbrim said shrewdly, and he looked from Farry to Goldi to Rudi. ‘Then I take it, the rest of you were there! So tell on!’ And he tenderly rubbed the elbow of his injured arm and said, ‘...for I must say that storytelling is a wonderful diversion from the pain...’

‘And as you suffered the teeth of the wolf in our defence...’ Farry said wryly. ‘I can almost foretell the future, I can... You’re going to milk it for all it’s worth, aren’t you?’

‘I should say so!’ Adelbrim replied, and laughed. ‘When I became the head of escort, old Tolibold told me I must seize every advantage!’

‘And so you have,’ Goldi said, pretending to frown, but then she grinned and nudged Faramir with her elbow. ‘Go right ahead! You have my permission to tell about my part in the judgement, though it was mortifying!’

‘My poor Goldi,’ Laurel mourned, taking her friend’s other hand. ‘You never told me...’

‘We were sworn to silence,’ Rudi said. ‘Do not pry, my love, ‘tisn’t fair.’

‘Thain Peregrin and Mistress Diamond are in Gondor!’ Goldi said. ‘They’ll hardly overhear us from there! And so long as Adelbrim doesn’t spill...’

‘He wouldn’t tell his uncle what’s for tea if he thought the old fellow didn’t need to know,’ Farry said with a respectful nod for his head of escort.

‘Especially since I haven’t seen the hobbit since I left the Bree-land behind,’ Adelbrim acknowledged. ‘Does that mean you’ll tell me the rest of the tale? One or all of you?’

He tilted his head and batted his eyelashes like a besotted lass at everyone in general, managing to look completely ridiculous. ‘Pretty-pretty please? With sugar on top?’

*** 

Author’s note: Laurel was first introduced in As the Gentle Rain and the related short story Dressed to the Teeth. Adelbrim also appears in both those stories, as well as a triple-drabble: Claiming the Prize.

*** 

Chapter 14. Back Again... and Safe

Farry awakened to an onslaught of sensations. First he became aware he was rocking, being held like a babe, he thought, as if several years had dropped away while he'd slept and he was once more a faunt. He heard a steady 1–2–3, 1–2–3 thudding, while his eyes perceived a moving ribbon of myriad greens and browns, and above him, a paling sky streaked with sunset colours. He was no longer in the shadowy byre, that was for certain, resting upon a soft bed of hay and blankets. A cool wind caressed his cheeks, but he felt warm and drowsy all over, except for one of his ankles that felt stiff and numb. That was better than throbbing, he thought.

And then he thought he heard Uncle Ferdi's voice. 'Nearly there, lad! Then you can sleep!'

'I was asleep,' he murmured, but heard his cousin Rudi's shout.

'I've no ambition to try sleep-riding at this late date, thank you very much! Sleep-walking is enough trouble, I should think!'

'Good thing you're not a sleep-walker!' Ferdi called back. His voice sounded closer than Rudi's, and Farry looked up then, and saw his uncle's face immediately above him. Ferdi was the one who was holding him! 'I just hope you don't take a chill! I want you in a warm bath just so soon as we've delivered our parcels!'

But where was Goldi? Farry moved, trying to look towards Rudi's voice, and felt his Uncle Ferdi adjust his hold, closer, firmer, more secure. Ferdi glanced down, smiled briefly to see Farry's eyes opened, and then looked up again, forward, in the direction they were going, Farry thought. 'Steady, lad,' he said 'You're almost home.'  

As the sky above them darkened, and stars began to emerge one by one, seeming to wink at him, Farry became aware that he was wrapped in Ferdi's cloak as well as his own; that's why he was so warm...

Rudi shouted. 'The lights of Tuckborough! I see lights ahead!'

Moments later, Farry felt his uncle sit up straight, and the pony's gait changed from a slow gallop to a fast, jolting trot, then slowed further and smoothed, while the thudding of hoofs that had earlier signalled their travel over the fields and their later transition to the unpaved New Road now changed to the sharp clopping of travelling over cobblestones.

No longer shouting, Ferdi called more quietly to Rudi. 'And the lass?'

Farry, who'd been drowsing again, coming close to falling off the ledge into sleep, blinked his eyes open and listened hard for the reply.

'Still sleeping!' the tween responded.

'Poor wee mite,' Ferdi murmured. 'Exhausted, I don't wonder.'

Ferry smiled. That was the idea, he thought to himself.

Come to think of it, he was himself very weary, wearier than he remembered being in quite a long time, wearier than even the time when... but his thoughts dissolved and blew away like mist on the wind, and he slept again.

*** 

When Faramir came to himself again, all motion had stopped, and hobbits were calling to each other around him.

'Aye!' his Uncle Ferdi answered, above him. 'Here, help me down... I don't want to jar him...'

'...tried to find her way back home,' Rudi was saying. 'She was that upset about the news from her parents. And the lad went after her... He knew it would be too dangerous for such a small child to cross the fields by herself. There's owls... and foxes...'

'He's not all that much older,' someone said.

'Aye, but ye ha' to credit th' lad for his courage,' another said, close at hand, 'if not good sense.' And then he added, 'Here, Ferdi, we've got yer elbows, just swing yer leg o'er and slip down.'

There was a sort of second-hand floating sensation, and then with a quick word of thanks, his uncle was carrying him over the flagstones of the wide yard separating the stables and other outbuildings from the Smials proper. Through half-open eyes, Farry saw Ferdi turn his head. 'Cool her out well,' his uncle said, 'give her just a few sips of water in the bottom of the bucket, to start, and bed her deep! We galloped all the way from Bywater...'

There were exclamations of astonishment all around. 'Bywater! The bairns walked all the way to Bywater!'

And then, after the voices fell away, and a door boomed behind them, marking their passage into the Great Smials, it seemed to be just Ferdi (and his burden) and Rudi (and his) walking along the corridor. Farry heard Rudi whisper, 'Bywater! Don't you mean the Three-Farthing Stone?'

Ferdi muttered in reply, 'No need to add fuel to the fire of the Talk that's already burning!'

'O aye,' Rudi said. Of course, the tween had come to live at the Great Smials less than a decade ago, after his Bolger father died, and so his intonation was more Bolger than Took. But Farry was too warm and drowsy to tease his cousin as he usually did when Rudi tried to talk like a Tooklander.

In his half-awake state, Farry wasn't sure how long he was carried along. It felt like forever; it felt like but a short time, and then...

'You've brought them back!' Sandy's voice meant they must have reached the innermost regions of the Great Smials, and the Thain's quarters.

'Well, it was either that or leave them where they were,' Ferdi said, then added absurdly, 'though I suppose we might have dropped them halfway between as another option.'

'None of your nonsense, now,' Sandy said, surprising Farry almost into wakening. For he almost never heard the hobbitservant speaking familiarly with anyone!

But then, Ferdi somehow lived on the same level as the hobbits around him, whether gentry or servants. Not for the first time, Farry wondered how his uncle managed the trick. He'd have to ask him sometime...

Evidently, they were still in the corridor and hadn't reached the apartments yet, for Ferdi said, 'Run ahead and tell the Thain and Mistress that I'm bringing their son to them, and ask Rus to arrange a hot bath for Rudi-here, if he wouldn't mind, and then go and fetch Woodruff from where ever she might be at this time, if you please, Sandy?'

'Someone's hurt?' the hobbitservant said.

'Nothing to worry about,' Ferdi answered. 'Just a turned ankle.'

They moved in silence now, the passing lamps in the wall of the corridor marking their progress, and Farry surmised that Sandy had hurried off to do his uncle's bidding.

Sudden bright light broke over them as Ferdi carried the lad through an open door into the large sitting room (Mistress Lalia had grandly styled it "The Receiving Room", Farry remembered idly) which was the entry to the Thain's suite of rooms, and as-sudden exclamations broke out all around them.

'Farry!'

'Goldi!'

'Where were they? Where did you find them?'

'Did you have to search half-way across Middle-earth?'

'Did you have to go all the way to Bag End?'

'I've sent word to the Gamgee children's minders.' That was his Auntie Nell. 'They'll be here soon. And Rusty is filling a warm bath for Rudi as we speak.' Her next words were obviously directed at her oldest son. 'Is it well with you, lad? Have you caught a chill?'

'I've caught something decidedly better than that!' Rudi said stoutly.

'Come,' Diamond said. 'Bring them through to our room – we'll lay them together on the big bed, and that way, Woodruff can look at them both at the same time... and Rudi? Are you in need of the healer's attention?'

'I'm well!' Rudi protested, laughing.

'Mum?' Farry said, trying to raise his head.

And then he felt Uncle Ferdi stop, and his mother's face was suddenly close, and her lips gently blessed his forehead. 'My brave little lad,' she said. But before Farry could respond, her face was gone again, and she was urging Ferdi into motion once more.

In no time at all, the feeling of being borne along like a babe in arms changed to a floating feeling that impelled him to grab at Ferdi's arm, prompting a murmured, 'Steady, lad. All's well.' He realised in the next moment that he'd been laid upon his parents' big bed, and Uncle Ferdi was unwrapping his cloak, after which it was eased out from under him, while Ferdi said, 'Come, Rudi, get your cloak out of the way. Woodruff's coming...'

'Yes, Da,' Rudi replied.

Sudden weight pressed down on Farry, and he felt warmer. He moved his fingers and felt the softness of finely spun wool, and he guessed that his uncle (or someone else) had laid a blanket over him, and probably over Goldi next to him, for he heard her sigh and murmur. 'Lovely.'

'There,' Uncle Ferdi said, his voice receding. 'I'll just see to my lad, and then...'

'How are they?' Thain Peregrin's voice was heard at the doorway to the bedroom, and Ferdi lowered his voice to answer, too low for young Faramir to hear.

Diamond, who was whispering to the children on the bed, suddenly broke off and got up again, saying with obvious relief, 'O Woodruff!' When Farry heard her voice again, it came from the doorway, where a conference of sorts seemed to be taking place between Pippin, Diamond, Ferdi, and Woodruff, the head healer at the Great Smials. 'Absolutely exhausted, poor dears,' Diamond was saying. 'Farry roused briefly and spoke, but I think he's fallen asleep again.'

And then a small warm hand clasped Farry's, and he looked over in surprise to see Goldi lying beside him, her face turned towards his, looking searchingly into his eyes.

'I know...' she whispered, stopped, and began again. 'I know what you did...'

His heart dropped, but he bravely answered, 'You do?'

She nodded. 'I do,' she said. 'And... I'm sorry.' She squeezed his hand, scootched a little closer to him on the bed, rolled on her side, and raised her head to lay a whisper-kiss against his cheek. 'Thank you.' And then she turned away and laid her head down once more; her hand squeezed his and released it, and she sighed and lay quiet again.

After glancing over and seeing Goldi's now-closed eyes, Farry lay quite still, stunned and wondering. He wanted to raise his hand to his cheek to feel if it was any different, somehow, but really, the bed was soft, and the fire on the little hearth in the bedroom was warming, and the low tones of the adults talking in the doorway, Ferdi explaining and the others asking questions, were so soothing in his ears – they were safe! – that without quite realising it, he dropped off to sleep once more.

*** 

Chapter 15. Repercussions

Farry and Goldi slept most of that night and the following day and night, except when Woodruff or Fennel or another healer assigned to watch roused them to eat a small, nourishing meal. As a consequence, when Faramir fully awakened the second morning after their return to the Great Smials, his ankle (which Woodruff had determined somehow was not broken) was already much better. The brilliant purple bruising had faded to pale green and brown, and the swelling had reduced considerably, leaving his ankle looking almost back to normal.

Immediately after he woke up, he asked after Goldi and was told that the healers had seen fit to keep her in the infirmary to ensure she hadn't caught a chill. He nodded, thinking he understood: they were taking extra care because the Mayor and Mistress Rose had entrusted her care to the Tooks, in particular, to Pippin and Diamond, and Farry's parents were likely worried about what Mayor Sam and Rose would think when they heard about this incident.

'It'll ache for some days yet, Master Faramir,' Woodruff said as she straightened from her examination. 'Some say that a sprain or strain can be worse than a broken ankle in terms of pain and prolonged effects...'

'And what does that mean?' the Thain said, sitting on the side of Farry's bed, while Diamond sat on Farry's other side, both parents having watched closely as Woodruff ran her hands over the ankle and then gently manipulated the joint.

'It means that he'll strain it again much more easily for the time being, and so he needs to be more careful to avoid further injury,' the healer explained.

'But it's not a lasting injury,' Pippin pressed.

Woodruff smiled briefly and patted Farry's hand (though Farry rather had the impression that the healer would've offered comfort to the Thain if such had been possible). 'You oughtn't notice any lasting effects, lad,' she said. 'Why, by summertime, you'll be running and skipping and jumping and dancing and climbing trees and whatnot, just as you always have.'

'So you'll let him up out of the bed?' Diamond said, exchanging a cryptic glance with her husband.

'If he promises to walk and not run, to go slowly, to favour his foot for the next few days...' Woodruff said.

'I will!' Farry promised.

'Good!' Pippin said, and then he planted his heavy walking stick firmly and pushed himself up from the bed. 'If you will see to all the details, then, my love,' he said to Diamond.

'Details?' Woodruff asked.

'A matter of unfinished business,' the Thain answered. 'We were just waiting on Farry's ankle...' But he explained no further, and the healer nodded and asked no more questions.

Nor did Farry think to ask questions, though he rather wondered what his ankle had to do with any of the business of the Tooks and the Tookland that might occupy both his mum and his da.

*** 

After second breakfast, Diamond rose from the table, thanked Sandy for another excellent repast, and called for the twins' nursemaid to put them down for their morning nap. She held out her hand to Faramir. 'Come, lad.'

'Is Telebold not here?' he said in surprise, naming his tutor, who should be entering the family's small private sitting room soon after Sandy had cleared the dishes and remnants of the meal away. The lad had rather had the impression that his daily schedule would go back to normal now that Woodruff had pronounced him sound. Or relatively so.

'You'll resume your studies with Telebold next week,' Diamond said. 'Tomorrow is Highday, and the next day is your birthday,' she added, tweaking his nose. 'Or have you lost all track of the date, what with the unusual happenings you've been mixed up in lately...?'

Farry's mouth opened in an "O" of astonishment and, to be frank, dismay. 'My mathoms!' he gasped.

'Yes, well,' Diamond said. 'You'll have the rest of today and all of tomorrow to organise your mathoms. And since the Gamgee children's departure for Cottons' farm has been put off for a week, in part due to the same unusual happenings, they'll all be here for your birthday... so you had better take them into account!'

'O my,' Farry said, overwhelmed, his head reeling. So many more mathoms added to those he still needed to finish!

'Just let me know if you need any additional supplies,' Diamond said, for she had discovered by chance what Faramir had been working on over the last few weeks, though of course she hadn't told anyone. Not even the Thain.

And then she added, 'Now come along, Farry. For I'm going to need your help this morning before I release you to your own devices.'

'Yes, Mum,' he answered, taking the hand she held out to him. As they walked along slowly, for the sake of his recovering ankle, he made a game of privately trying to guess at their destination.

Diamond or Pippin periodically asked for Faramir's "help" in various matters. The young son of the Thain knew it was part of his training, preparing him to play a major role in the running of the Great Smials someday, whether or not his father should live long enough for Farry to succeed him as Thain. Pippin had been ill-prepared for the contingency, as had Paladin, who had been thrust unexpectedly into the position, considering that Hildigrim, Paladin's grandfather, had supposedly removed their branch of the family from the line of succession. 

The letter Hildigrim had claimed to have written had disappeared – or had, perhaps, never been written. And so, upon the death of Thain Ferumbras with no heirs to follow him, the Tooks had, for all practical purposes, forced Paladin to accept the office and all it entailed. As a result of the problems that had resulted, the current Thain had vowed to ensure that his son would be adequately prepared for whatever the future might hold, at least as far as possible.

The lad wondered what help he might be providing this time. He brightened at the fairly recent memory of being asked to sample various tea sandwiches and savouries, as well as biscuits and teacakes that the cooks had turned out, and give his carefully considered opinion of each.

...but at each branching corridor they passed, the possibilities narrowed, until, at last, they stood outside the door of the Thain's study, high up in the face of the Great Smials, with its large windows that provided a panoramic view of Tuckborough and the Green Hill country beyond.

Haldi, the messenger currently stationed outside the heavy door, nodded to Diamond and then to Farry. 'Mistress,' he said, and, 'Young Master.' He tapped on the door and added, 'They're ready for you.'

Before Farry had time to wonder, Haldi turned the doorknob and swung the door open, ushered them inside, then firmly closed the door behind them, presumably to take up his station once again in order to prevent any interruptions.

A veritable multitude of hobbits crowded the study, standing in groups before the Thain's desk. All looked up as the door opened, and most of them – to Farry's eye – looked apprehensive.

The groups resolved into Ferdibrand and Pimpernel, with young Rudi standing between them, and next to them were Tolibold and Meadowsweet, flanking Gorbibold, and finally almost the entire throng of Gamgee children, accompanied by the two minders who'd had the duty the night Farry and Goldi had sneaked out to begin their journey.

Besides the Gamgee children's minders, two hobbitservants were in attendance, Rusty and Sandy, who stood in the space between Ferdi's family and Tolly's family. In addition, two young healers, Buttercup and Calendula, were stationed near the door, with a woebegone Goldi standing between them.

Pippin sat at his desk, and Regi at his, but Ferdibrand's chair was empty, for the latter (as mentioned) stood before the Thain as one awaiting trial and subsequent judgement.

And Farry had a sudden, awful understanding of the purpose of this gathering. He opened his mouth to protest, though he hardly knew what he might say, when Diamond squeezed his hand and leaned down to speak in his ear. 'Hush,' she said. 'This is a formal hearing, and so you must only speak when you are asked to give evidence.'

Farry's heart plummeted to his toes. He'd planned so carefully, done his best... but it hadn't been good enough. And now innocent hobbits would suffer the penalty for a child's careless actions...

Diamond led Farry to the Thain's ornately carved desk, whereupon she turned one of the chairs flanking the desk around so that instead of facing the Thain, Farry was facing the assemblage as he sat down there upon his mother's soft-voiced command. Diamond left him then and moved to the chair on the other side of the desk. She picked it up, moved behind the Thain to Farry's side of the desk, and set the chair she held beside Pippin's chair so that both Thain and Mistress would, for all practical purposes, share the desk while also positioning herself between husband and son. Then she sat herself down on the chair.

The Thain turned to his wife. 'My dear,' he said quietly. 'Begin when you are ready.'

'Very well,' Diamond said. Out of the corner of his eye, Farry saw Regi pick up his quill and dip it in the inkwell, ready to record the evidence presented.

'We are gathered here to see justice done,' the Mistress began. 'Every decision...' she said, and as she continued, she looked into each face gathered there before her, one at a time, making eye contact before moving on, 'every choice... every action undertaken... has a consequence. As most of you well know.' She smiled briefly in reassurance at the uncomprehending looks on the faces of the youngest Gamgee children. 

'Is Goldi in big-big trouble?' little Bilbo lisped, looking at the Thain and Mistress with enormous, worried eyes.

'We'll come to that in time,' Diamond said, even as the minder took Bilbo's hand and shushed the little lad. But little Ruby began to sob in confusion, and Primrose's eyes brimmed with tears that spilled down her cheeks. Thankfully, tiny Robin was asleep in Frodo-lad's arms, or he'd likely have joined his wails to Ruby's sounds of distress. Daisy and Hamfast were quiet, but they hugged each other, as if in fear, and the five older Gamgee children, from Frodo-lad down to Goldi, stood straight, together yet each somehow alone with their thoughts and the knowledge they held, even Frodo-lad with his sleeping toddler brother, all of their faces bleak. 

The Mistress of the Tooks nodded to the minders, and everyone waited while the little ones were comforted, and some sort of order was restored.

'Now,' Diamond said when the room was silent again. 'The Thain has excused himself from judging this case, as an injured party...' The five older Gamgee children stirred at this. 

Farry saw Rudi and Gorbi swallow hard as their apprehension increased. I'm sorry, he tried to tell them with his eyes, silently, remembering that he must not speak (for speaking out of turn might get them in worse trouble than they already seemed to be in). Rudi blinked a little, and Ferdi's hand on his shoulder tightened briefly, then relaxed. But Gorbi gave Farry a firm nod, as if to say he'd do it all over again.

'...but I have not,' Diamond said. 'Therefore, I must admonish all to remain silent as I conduct this hearing, unless I ask you a question. And when you give your answer, I expect to hear only truth, and all truth.'

Farry nodded, recognising the formal phrase.

'Goldi,' Diamond said, and the small lass jumped and then set her chin firmly, meeting Diamond's gaze. 'Do you know what "all truth" means? It is very important that you understand...'

'Yes, Mistress,' Goldi said. At Rosie's gasp, she blushed and dropped her eyes. 'I'm sorry, Mistress,' she whispered. 'I didn't mean to interrupt.'

Diamond paused momentarily to acknowledge the apology and then continued, 'Tell me what you know about telling all the truth.'

Goldi nodded and raised her eyes again, looking at Faramir. 'Farry told me,' she said, and then divided her gaze between Diamond and Pippin. 'He said there's a special kind of lie, I don't remember what he called it, but he explained it to me. He said, if you – I – tell only part of what I know to someone, and they think they know it all, but they say something that is wrong... He said it's the same thing as if I told a lie, even though they said it and I didn't.' 

Diamond nodded. 'Thank you, Goldi,' she said. She looked then at the four smallest Gamgees, from still-sleeping Robin to Ruby and Primrose and Daisy. 'All you need to know of this is what the Tooks have been told,' she said. 'Your sister, Goldilocks Gamgee, was upset on hearing your parents' news, that they would be staying longer in the South-lands than originally planned, and so she took it into her head to run off...'

Goldi stirred uneasily, but Diamond held her eyes with a warning look, and she stilled again.

'And that's all you need to know,' Diamond said. She nodded at the hovering healers.

Buttercup took Goldi's hand and led her to Sandy, who looked down and murmured quietly, 'Just stand here by me for the moment, Miss.' Meanwhile, Calendula was taking tiny Robin from Frodo-lad, and then she held out her hand to Daisy. 'Come with me, Miss,' she said. 'It's time for your morning nap.'

Buttercup picked up little Ruby and gently wiped her face, then took Primrose's hand. 'Callie and I will take you back to your beds,' she said, 'and tuck you up, nice and snug and warm, and we'll stay with you until your brothers and sisters are all done here, and I'm sure and certain that Frodo-lad has been thinking up one of his marvellous stories to tell you just so soon as he's back with you!' And talking more sweet nonsense of this sort, she and Calendula exited with the youngest of the Gamgees.

When the door had closed behind them, Diamond looked at the rest of the Gamgee children. 'The Tooks have taken it into their heads that Goldi ran off home – to Bag End – and we see no reason to tell them otherwise.' And fixing her eyes on Goldi, she said, 'And this is what we were talking about – it is called a "lie of omission",' Goldi nodded, 'but something you may not know, Goldi, is that the participants in a hearing such as this one are sworn to silence, to protect the innocent. So inside this room, "all truth" must be told in answer to any questions I see fit to ask, but once we have finished...' And she paused, as if waiting for a response.

'I understand,' Goldi said in a whisper. 

Diamond looked at the remaining Gamgee children. 'I can excuse you now, or you can agree never to speak of what you hear inside this room, not even amongst yourselves or to your parents.' She held up a staying hand, seeing questions in most of the faces and a protest in Frodo-lad's, and added, 'Your parents will have a full report from us, I assure you, but we do not wish that anyone else might overhear a chance remark.' And she waited.

'I understand,' said Frodo-lad. Diamond nodded, and her eyes moved down the line of Gamgees until each had expressed their understanding and consent.

*** 

Farry cleared his throat, his mouth dry from speaking at length, and took a sip of his brandy.

'O my,' Adelbrim said quietly into the silence, his face displaying his shock. 'They were treating it as seriously as any formal hearing I've ever seen in my short years as a Took... You must have been frightened half out of your wits, Goldi!'

'I was,' Goldi said in a small voice. 

Farry stopped himself from continuing his recital of the events and held out his hand to her in support. She took it, groping as one blinded (and perhaps she was blinded by the tears shining in her eyes), and held on so tightly that her knuckles whitened. 'I take it back,' she said. 'Perhaps it's better to be sworn to silence.'

*** 

Chapter 16. Consequences

'Very well,' Diamond said once all of the remaining Gamgee children had indicated their understanding of the requirements they must observe to remain in the room whilst one of them faced Tookish judgement.

But then Frodo-lad raised a tentative hand.

Pippin nudged Diamond; she nodded and said, 'Frodo?' 

'Permission to speak, Mistress Diamond?' the eldest Gamgee son said. 

Frodo-lad was still only a teen, though he acted older than his years most of the time, just as he was in this moment. For some reason, seeing Frodo so serious and carefully-spoken reminded Farry of Uncle Merry telling him that Frodo-lad was the image of his father Samwise at the same age.

'Permission granted.'

'We are here – not in this hearing, I don't mean, but staying here in the Smials whilst our parents are in the South-lands – by the Thain and Mistress's kind invitation,' Frodo began, 'and...' he gulped, suddenly returning to the young hobbit he was. '...you've extended us every hospitality, and we've rewarded you so very shabbily...'

A suppressed sob sounded from Rosie-lass, and her eyes shone with tears. But Farry had eyes only for Goldi and the misery plain on her face, reflecting the belated knowledge that her choices had brought shame to her family... her parents... her beloved Elanor... as well as the Thain and Mistress of Tookland, who had pledged to keep the Mayor's children safe whilst he and his wife were away in the South-lands. Sympathy rose in him, for he'd made a similar mistake not so many months ago, bringing shame on his parents and peril to others who'd only meant to rectify his error.

'Thank you, Frodo,' Diamond said, interrupting, but then she (and perhaps the Thain?) were the only ones who might interrupt someone during this hearing without penalty. 'You and your brothers and sisters, all but one, are held guiltless in this matter.'

'But...' Frodo said unwisely, and then he wilted under Diamond's stern look.

'As are your parents, of course,' Diamond finished, 'for they are not even here in the Shire!' She took a deep breath and said, 'Now...'

All those standing before the Thain's desk stood straighter, divining that the questioning was about to begin, and the consequences hung upon the answers they would give – not only for themselves but for the others in the room.

But no. They were all mistaken, Farry realised, himself included.

'Sage and Daffodil,' Diamond addressed the minders, 'You were assigned that night to watch over the Gamgee children.'

'I was,' said Sage, and Daffy echoed him.

Diamond nodded. 'Water rations, for the rest of today,' she said. 'Goldi ought not to have been able to leave the Mayor's guest apartments as she did.' She looked sternly at the minders. 'You don't even have the excuse, pitiful as it might be, that it was the middle night, making you less alert than you might otherwise have been. For it is our understanding that she stole away when the clock struck eight, and no later!'

'Yes, Mistress,' the two minders said together. Was that relief he saw on their faces? Farry wondered. He hadn't been able to include the minders in his planning, but 'twas true that they had failed in their responsibilities, especially if they had also not noticed Frodo-lad and Rosie-lass sneaking out in the middle night to search for their missing sister!

Minders were supposed to stand in for parents who were absent or ill. At night, this might mean singing lullabies, tendering glasses of water, helping with the chamber pot, soothing a nightmare, or preventing a sleep-walking child from wandering. Goldi had not been sleep-walking, nor had Frodo-lad or Rosie-lass, but still, the minders had been too easily evaded, it seemed. Farry had a sudden vision of a group of minders gathered together, holding a council of sorts, to discuss the matter. He might find it much more difficult in future to sneak out at night to pull a prank, such as switching the labels on the spices in the kitchen, he suspected.

'Sandy,' Diamond said next, and the hobbitservant stood straighter, his face expressionless.

'Farry had no minder assigned that night,' the Mistress went on. 'The penalty might fall upon your head, otherwise, except that neither the Thain nor I had asked you to watch out for small children sleep-walking or asking for a glass of water or such.'

'Yes, Mistress,' Sandy said tonelessly, but Diamond looked sharply at him nonetheless.

'You are not to put yourself on water rations for that night's work, or any imagined lacking on your part,' she said firmly.

Farry watched Sandy take a shaking breath and let it out in a whoosh, and then the hobbitservant's shoulders slumped a little before he caught himself and straightened again. 'Yes, Mistress,' he said again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Faramir saw his father's slight nod of approval for Diamond's perceptiveness.

'Sage and Daffodil, take yourselves off now. You may take the rest of what would otherwise be your mealtimes this day to ponder your failings and talk together of how you would avoid a similar happening in future,' Diamond said, sounding as hard and cold as her namesake. But then, she was a mother herself, and her duties often forced her to rely on minders, even though she'd rather mind her own little ones most of the time. Moreover, Farry had perfect confidence that she'd be perfectly pleasant, even kind to the errant minders on the morrow.

'Tolibold and Ferdibrand,' Diamond said next, causing all members of both families who were in the room to stiffen to attention. 'I take it that you were merely players in the roles assigned to you in this incident.' Both of the hobbits she addressed nodded but did not speak.

Diamond turned her eyes to Goldi. 'Goldilocks, I doubt that you or any in your family would know of this,' she said, 'for it was a matter of a hearing, as formal as this one though it took place outside of the Tookland, as well as a Convocation here in the Great Smials; and all who participated were sworn to silence.'

'Yes, Mistress,' Goldi said, obviously confused.

Diamond turned to her son. 'Farry, tell Goldi what you did as a child a year or so younger than she is now.'

Farry swallowed hard on a suddenly dry throat. 'I ran away,' he said. 'I... ran away... to Gondor.'

Goldi started, as did all the older Gamgee children.

'And what were the consequences?' Diamond asked.

'I suffered the bite of a fox on my leg,' Farry said to Goldi, and saw horror on all the Gamgee children's faces in response. 'But worse...' He looked over pleadingly at his parents, and tears came to his eyes as he looked forward again, encompassing Ferdi and Tolly and their families in his gaze.

'Worse?' Diamond prompted.

'Tolibold... and Uncle Ferdi...' he said, stumbling over his words. 'Because I ran away, they were accused of being in league with child-stealing ruffians and sentenced to banishment from the Shire.'

*** 

'What!' Adelbrim interjected, interrupting Faramir's narration in his consternation.

'Just wait,' Farry said. 'It gets better.'

'The Thain banished them!? He would have seen them branded and cast out over the Bounds, exiles forever more?' Adelbrim said.

'Not the Thain,' Farry said as if reciting dry, emotionless historical fact, though his face had lost all colour at the distressing memory. 'My father was an injured party. 'Twas the Master of Buckland who judged their cases and, based on my father's wishes, pronounced the Ban.'

Adelbrim's mouth opened and closed, but he made no sound. Only Laurel was as shocked as the head of escort, for everyone else there – Rudi, Goldi and Farry – knew the full story. Of course. The seal of silence had been broken in that hearing in the Thain's study, and what had been hidden had been made clear before being sealed away once more.

Farry looked around at everyone's faces and resumed his narration.

*** 

Rosie-lass swayed, and Frodo-lad caught her and shook her by the arm. None of that, he hissed in her ear, forgetting in the moment the obligation to speak only when spoken to.

'Do you need to be excused?' Diamond said to the Gamgee children in general. But Rosie-lass shook off her brother's grip, stood straighter, and answered. 'No, Mistress. If you please, Mistress...'

'Yes?' Diamond said.

'We wish to remain for Goldi's sake, if we may,' Rosie pleaded.

'Very well,' Diamond said. She did not insult Frodo or Rosie by reminding them to hold their tongues unless she asked one of them a question.

'Peregrin,' Diamond said, though she continued to look straight ahead at those who seemed to be on trial.

'Mistress Diamond,' Pippin said, equally formal.

'It is my view that this incident came about because of impulsive action without thought taken for the consequences.' Farry heard no answer from his father, but Pippin must have nodded or given some sign, for Diamond went on. 'Peregrin,' she said formally, 'please describe some of the other times when you yourself, perhaps driven by your unchecked emotions, took action without thinking through the consequences beforehand.'

Farry, staring straight ahead, heard the whisper of his da's clothing as Pippin moved restlessly in his chair. The hobbits standing before him had their attention fully fixed on the Thain, he thought.

'I followed Frodo,' the Thain began quietly. '...although, in that case, I did my best to count the cost under the circumstances. I tried to weigh all the factors, with the knowledge I had at the time.' He paused for a long moment, then added, 'Had I the foresight to see the Troubles descending upon the Shire, I might have stayed.' He fell silent again, and somehow Farry (still staring straight ahead) could imagine him shaking his head, for he said, 'No, but then I'd've been ill-prepared to deal with the ruffians had I stayed i' truth.'

'Besides that,' Diamond said, moving him off the subject.

'In Moria, I was unnerved by the long dark and silence,' Pippin said. 'When the Company came to a door in the passage, Merry and I pushed forward, glad to find a place that seemed to offer shelter of sorts, or concealment, a place to rest that was not in the open passageway. Luckily Gandalf stopped us, and went before us with a light, for there was an open pit – a well – and one or both of us might have blundered into it in the dark in our foolishness.'

'Yes,' Diamond said, and waited.

'And... and... I could not seem to keep myself away from that well. I crept near and peered over the side, and I felt a cool mist on my face that seemed to rise from untold depths. And so, as I might if I came upon a well here in the Shire so deep as to hide how far down the water might be, or even if there was water in the well, I... I dropped a stone down. 'Twas but a small stone, no more than a pebble...' 

'Go on,' Diamond said when he stopped.

'And, I think, I woke something in the depths.' Farry heard his father's shaking breath. 'And... and Gandalf fell in Moria, and I was to blame.'

'Regi,' Diamond said, interrupting.

'Mistress,' the Steward answered.

'Add to the record that Peregrin believed at the time and still believes he was to blame for Gandalf's fall, though there is no firm evidence as to that conclusion.'

'Yes, Mistress,' Regi said, and the scratch of his quill was clearly heard in the silence of the room.

'Let us move on, Peregrin,' Diamond said. 'Have you another incident for us to consider?'

'A shining ball fell heavily from the tower of Orthanc after the Ents laid waste to the wizard Saruman's realm,' Pippin said. 'A globe of crystal, with a heart of glowing fire. Thinking to be helpful, as well as drawn by curiosity, I ran to retrieve it... and was caught in its snare. All of Middle-earth might've been lost as a result of my foolishness...'

'Yes,' Diamond said quietly. 'I believe the consequences more than paid the penalty. Let us move on. Can you give us a more recent example?'

'I passed judgement upon Ferdibrand and Tolibold,' Pippin replied in a low voice, 'that they should be banished from the Shire, their names removed from the Book and mentioned nevermore.'

Faramir saw his Auntie Nell biting her lip hard, while Meadowsweet lifted a handkerchief to her face. But Rudi and Gorbi stood as stone-faced as their fathers.

'Rather, Meriadoc Brandybuck, Master of Buckland, passed judgement,' Diamond corrected.

'After I had told him my wishes in the matter,' Pippin said bitterly. 'And I wasn’t thinking straight – I didn't think it through – I let myself be ruled by my emotions, by my anger and fear, and I nearly perpetrated an unforgivable injustice on hobbits who were only doing their duty to the best of their understanding.'

'Please recount how this horrifying injustice nearly came about.' And Diamond was as terrible as any Thain in her remote precision, Farry thought with a shudder.

His mother held up her hand as Pippin opened his mouth to speak. 'Is it well with you, Farry? Do you have a chill?'

Farry hastened to say, 'I'm well, Mum. I mean, Mistress.' For this was a formal hearing, after all.

'Nevertheless,' Diamond said, slipping her own shawl from her shoulders. She tucked it around Farry's back and shoulders before resuming. 'Please proceed, Peregrin.'

'Farry had gone missing, and Ferdi and Tolly conspired to cover up his disappearance whilst Ferdi tracked down the lad and brought him back, or that is what they hoped they might accomplish.'

Farry became aware his mother was addressing him, 'Because you ran away, Faramir?'

'Yes, Mistress,' Faramir answered.

'Ran away – to Gondor?'

'Yes, Mistress.'

And Diamond said, 'So you see, Goldi, that you are not the first to think of such a thing.'

Since the Mistress of the Tooks had spoken directly to the little lass, Goldi felt empowered to speak. 'I see...' she said to Diamond, but then she looked at Faramir, her eyes accusing, and hissed, 'Why did you never tell me?'

'He was sworn to silence to protect the innocent,' Diamond answered for her son. 'And that brings us to the current conspiracy...'

Rudi moved uneasily, but Gorbi stood like a sun-struck troll. But Diamond's next question served as a bridge of sorts between Farry's and Goldi's "incidents".

'Ferdibrand,' she said. 'When you caught up with Farry that previous time, you felt obliged to strike a bargain with him.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'Tell us of that bargain.'

'The lad... Faramir,' Ferdi said, shifting to a more formal tone, 'told me that he'd keep running away, no matter how many times I might return him to the Smials, until at last I stopped trying.'

'So you see, Goldilocks,' Diamond said, 'there is good precedent for young Faramir to worry that, should he inform "the adults" of the danger you faced, you might be determined enough to evade any and all protections we might set in place for your safety.'

Goldi clasped her hands tightly together, staring at Farry as if new ideas might be arising in her mind. 'Yes Mistress,' she said.

'And so, Faramir,' Diamond said, turning her head to speak to her son beside her. 'You thought to ask your cousins for help. Though they are only tweens, you thought they might well be invested in the problem, in your proposal, if only to shield their fathers from any impulsive action on the Thain's part because of the scars they bore from the previous instance.'

'Scars?' Goldi said involuntarily, but she was confused, for while Farry had talked about the bite of a fox, no other injuries had been mentioned.

'The sentence of banishment was pronounced, and the brand came within inches of Ferdibrand's face,' Diamond said. 'Farry, tell the rest.'

'I – I was fevered, but I woke up – my cousin Robin pinched me awake, he was that desperate, and for good reason! And I ran out of the house in a night-dress, into the icy yard, crying for them to stop!' He drew several shuddering breaths. Diamond waited for him to calm himself, and at last he was able to resume. 'The Master asked me to give my testimony, and I did, and then they talked about restitution and a false accusation, and I thought all was done...'

'But it wasn't done,' Diamond said, and her own voice betrayed some of her own burden of upsetting memory despite the iron control she was exercising. 'For the Talk, which is what impelled you to leave the Tookland for Gondor in the first place, ran rampant when all of you returned from the Woody End, not only ran rampant but grew and expanded until the original incident was unrecognisable in the telling.'

'It was as Merry said,' Pippin said in a dull voice, forgetting for the moment he was speaking out of turn.

'Yes, Peregrin?' Diamond said. 'Please recount what the Master of Buckland said.'

'I heard him say to himself, under his breath, when he thought no one was paying heed...' Pippin whispered, 'he said, The Tooks will never forget it; the whispers will run like rats through the back corridors of the Smials for years to come, and not everyone will be content to believe the accusations false... I only realised the truth of his words when the Tooks called a Convocation some time afterwards and threatened to banish the lot of us for the muckle we'd made.'

'The lot of you?' Diamond clarified, her voice tight.

'Ferdibrand. Tolibold. Everard. Myself. And Reginard, for though they assigned him no guilt in the matter, he vowed to stand by the Thain, no matter what decision the Tooks might declare.'

'So you see, Goldilocks,' Diamond said, once more speaking to the small Gamgee lass, 'a single choice is like a pebble tossed into a well... or a better picture might be a pond, sending ripples that spread and grow as they expand. So do the consequences of what seems like a simple individual action...'

Goldi had no answer.

'And so, you see, young Rudivar and Gorbibold saw their fathers put in peril twice on account of the same incident! Just when they felt they could relax, that life would go back to what it had always been, the Tooks called a Convocation and went over the whole miserable business again, and their fathers only escaped by the skin of their teeth – a chance remark on the part of one of the Councillors judging the case. For I had no hope,' and Diamond's voice broke, and she had to clear her throat before she said huskily, 'no hope whatsoever, for any of the accused who stood there before the assemblage of Tooks, until the moment when Rudigrim casually voiced his question. Of a wonder, Erlingar did not dismiss him for speaking out of turn but entertained the idea, engaged in a discussion, and worked his way to a solution that – praise be! – did not involve banishing five stalwart Tooks!' Including her husband, the Thain.

'And so, Gorbibold,' Diamond said unexpectedly, turning her attention to the tween who stood before her, fists clenched and eyes bright with unshed tears. 'You agreed to help Faramir, if only to leave Tolibold completely out of the situation. For that was your price, to take part in the conspiracy to keep Goldilocks safe.'

'Yes, Mistress,' Gorbi said. 'I said I would help, but only if my da would be kept completely in the clear, even if I should draw a severe penalty for my part.'

'Gorbi,' Tolly whispered, and swallowed hard. And then he turned to his son and held out his arms, and the two embraced fervently. Diamond waited patiently until father and son had finished hugging each other and, recalled to themselves, had faced her once more. But Tolly reached out and took Meadowsweet's hand in a firm grasp, which continued until the hearing ended.

'And you, Rudivar?' Diamond said as she recommenced her questioning.

'We thought my da's help might be needed, should the Plan go awry and we might need to track the children, as he tracked Faramir that previous time,' Rudivar said. 'I didn't want to involve him at all, but Farry insisted we should plan for every contingency we could think of, and he promised that he'd shield my da to the best of his ability. And since he was risking himself...' The tween gulped and stopped speaking.

'Risking himself?' Diamond prompted.

Rudi took several breaths and, obviously steeling himself, continued. 'There's foxes,' he said. 'And owls. And other menaces... wild swine, or stray dogs... And though Farry is tall for his age, the two of them are still small enough... the risks were very real. That's why Farry couldn't allow the little lass to take off on her own...'

'Farry planned the route with us, so that searchers would have a good idea where to look for them,' Gorbi put in. 'Should something happen to Rudi, who was to act as Ferdi's guide so long as the Plan went as it should, then I would be able to show the Thain and a Muster the children's intended route on a map...'

Goldi was staring at Farry again. 'You said you'd help me run away...' she murmured. 'But you didn't really mean that... what you meant was that you'd help me be caught again!'

'No!' Farry said, though with himself and Goldi and Gorbi all speaking out of turn, he worried they were making things worse.

But Diamond took firm hold of the reins and steered the hearing back on course. 'Explain, Faramir,' she said.

'I said I'd help you run away,' Farry said. 'And I meant it. For I knew if you were caught too soon, you'd only be more careful the next time, and it would be harder to keep you safe. And my parents are responsible for your safety! So like Gorbi, like Rudi, I was protecting my da! And my mum...'

'But your promise did not extend all the way to Gondor, I think,' Diamond said.

'It's a long, long way to Gondor,' Farry said, still speaking directly to Goldi. 'It's too far. We're too young... too little... It's bad enough that just our starting out on such a course would have brought awful consequences down on the heads of innocents – the adults responsible for watching over us – but bad enough as such consequences would be, just think, Goldi, think of the consequences that would come down upon them when we died!'

'I didn't think...' Goldi whispered.

'So the plan was to guide you and guard you and help you realise how impossible such a journey must be for a child, for children. I wanted you to be good and tired...'

'I was.'

'...and sick of walking, and worried about running out of food, and...'

'...and worried sick about you when you got hurt,' Goldi said, which served to silence Farry. 'I thought about leaving you in that byre and going on by myself, you know... so you'd get in less trouble.'

Farry found his voice. 'But I would have had to follow,' he said. 'Any other choice would've been wrong.'

Pippin moved suddenly, and Diamond put a hand on his arm, and Farry heard her whisper, It does no good to sprinkle icing sugar over a hog and pretend he's a teacake.

***

Farry broke off his storytelling and added aside, 'It took me years to understand that he – my da, I mean – was thinking of Frodo and Sam at that moment, how Sam flung himself at Frodo's departing boat, and missed, and nearly drowned in the deep, swift water, so desperate was he to follow his Master.'

'He said it would have been the death of him, to be left behind,' Goldi murmured. And then she gasped in sudden realisation, pulled her hand from Farry's grasp, and grabbed at his arm with both hands, as desperate as a drowning hobbit clinging to a tree branch. 'But you did nothing wrong, my love!' she said. 'All that you did was noble and good. I was the one Mistress Diamond was thinking of, not my dad or Mister Frodo. For she understood, somehow, that if she could not stop your father from speaking his thought aloud, and I got it in my head, with my childish understanding at the time, that my quest was anything like Frodo's, nothing could've stopped me from trying again!'

Blinking away tears, she allowed Farry to pull free of her hold and then enfold her in his arms, offering the only comfort he could. From the safety of his embrace, she said, 'I can see now so clearly why the Tooks hold their Mistress in such high affection and esteem. O Farry...'

'O Goldi,' Farry answered, burying his face in her hair.

But Goldi wasn't finished. 'I have such a long way to go, even to approach the heights she has reached in their eyes.'

'It's a worthy goal to aspire to,' Rudi said quietly.

'...and much better than running off to Gondor,' Laurel added after a long pause. 'Though hopefully you've already learnt your lesson there...'

***

'You'd have followed me?' Goldi said, and for reasons of her own, Diamond allowed the conversation between the two children to disrupt the hearing. 'But of course you would have,' the small lass affirmed. 'And that is why, in the end, I decided I couldn't leave you there, in apparent safety, and strike out on my own.'

'Apparent safety?' Farry said, puzzled.

'Safe from foxes, perhaps,' Goldi said, 'but I knew you'd bear the blame, even if I were to creep away and leave you sleeping. I would be on my way, knowing that you would bear the penalty...'

'And Gorbi,' Farry said. 'And Rudi.' He took a shallow breath, his eyes shadowed, and said, 'And if anything had happened to you, and it would have... for it's a wide world, and a dangerous one, and that's why children have grown-ups to guard and guide them until they're big enough. The blame would've fallen upon the Tooks, in general, and my mum and da, in particular, and everyone with the least scrap of responsibility for our safety... the minders, the servants, the escort... your own brothers and sisters...'

Goldi was breathing raggedly now, and tears were spilling from her eyes. 'I never thought... I didn't think that far... I only...!'

At last, Diamond broke in. 'Ripples in a pond, Goldilocks.'

'I'm sorry! I'm so very sorry! Please! Punish me! I'll take all the consequences... but please don't let anyone else be harmed...!'

Sandy knelt to hug the distraught child, but even as he held her, Frodo-lad moved from his frozen stance, followed closely by Rosie-lass and then the rest of the Gamgee children there, surrounding Goldi and hugging her and each other, most of them sobbing with her in sympathy.

Diamond waited out the storm of tears. At last, when quiet had resumed, with only an occasional gulp from one of the tear-stained children, she said, 'Very well.' And Sandy stood to his feet once more, and the Gamgee children, though still closely bunched together, stood straight and waited for whatever awful pronouncement was forthcoming.

'I think you have learned the lesson set before you, that you set in motion by your choice, your decision, and the actions that followed,' Diamond said.

'I have,' Goldi gulped. 'I mean, I think I have.'

'I think you have, too,' Diamond said, 'keeping in mind that you are only a child, with a child's understanding.'

Farry wrenched his gaze from Goldi and turned his head to stare at his mother. He had no idea what to expect, but he had perfect confidence that whatever Diamond decided would be right.

'Therefore – Regi – here is my finding,' Diamond said, alerting the Steward that she'd finished gathering evidence and the next notation would indicate her findings regarding the matter, along with a record of the punishment assigned as a consequence.

'Faramir – Gorbibold – Rudivar,' Diamond intoned, 'as the conspirators in this matter, still, it would seem an injustice to assign any blame to you or to the adults who watch over you, to the ones who love you and whom you love so much that you sought to keep them safe from blame.'

Farry saw Rudi and Gorbi deflate slightly, as if they'd been holding their breath; and their parents moved to hug them from either side, enveloping them in love.

'Rusty,' Diamond continued, 'like Sandy, I find no fault with you.'

The hobbitservant bowed and muttered his thanks.

'Frodo, Rose, Merry, Pippin-lad,' (to distinguish from the other Pippin in the room), 'Hamfast, and Daisy,' Diamond said. 'As I stated earlier, you are all held guiltless in this matter. You were only responsible to stay in your beds that night – and though Frodo and Rose did not, they only left their beds to try to find Goldilocks, and then, in Rose's case, to seek help from responsible adults. Therefore, none of you has earned a rebuke or a penalty.'

'Yes, Mistress,' Frodo-lad said, and the rest echoed him in chorus.

'And lastly, Goldilocks,' Diamond said, and it must be said that most of the hobbits in the Thain's study felt the need to hold their breath on hearing these words.

'Yes, Mistress Diamond,' Goldi said bravely, and those closest to her could see her trembling, though she stood as straight as she could.

'I think you have learned your lesson here, as I said earlier, and so I will lay no penalty upon you except to encourage you to think deeply about all that was discussed here, even though you must do so privately and not discuss the matter with anyone else.' A general exhalation in the room came on the heels of this pronouncement.

'Mistress?' Goldi said, her face showing her confusion.

'If, at a later time, you should find yourself confused, or think of questions that you cannot ask of anyone since this incident will be closed when you walk out that door, I enjoin you to come to me.'

'To you, Mistress Diamond?' Goldi asked.

'Come to me, and we will remove ourselves to a private place where we can talk with no chance of being overheard, and we can talk over any confusion you may have, or any questions you cannot work out the answers to without help.'

'Yes, Mistress, thank you,' Goldi said, and she dropped a courtesy in her gratitude.

'And Goldi,' Diamond said, making everyone still themselves again from the relaxation they'd begun to express. When she determined that she had the little one's full attention, she said, 'You may feel as if you were let off too easily, that you cannot feel at ease unless you pay some penalty.'

Goldi blinked at this.

'Some do,' Diamond said. 'Even children. But I have known hobbits of the Thain's escort to have put themselves on water rations even though their actions – in falling short of their duty – were excused by someone in higher authority as not entirely their fault due to circumstances. And so I thought you might think to deny yourself sweets, or some such...'

Goldi's eyes widened with surprise.

'And you have my leave to do so,' Diamond said reasonably, 'if you think it would do you good or give your conscience some ease... But...'

Only one 'but' will I allow tonight, Farry thought absurdly, turning his head to look at his mother.

'Yes, Mistress?' Goldi said, sounding breathless.

Diamond wagged her finger at the small lass. 'But I forbid any such sacrifice on your part the day after tomorrow, for I would not have any sorrow mar my son's birthday!'

*** 

Author's note: Some turns of phrase were inspired by (or may have been borrowed from) "A Journey in the Dark", "The Breaking of the Fellowship", "The Palantír", and "The Siege of Gondor" in The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien. Pippin's (actually Merry's) wonderful turn of phrase, "The Tooks will never forget it; the whispers will run like rats through the back corridors of the Smials..." was written by JoDancingTree, who co-authored Runaway.

*** 

Chapter 17. Breathing Space

The following morning, Pippin awakened early. He stretched in the bed, luxuriating in the sensation of stolen moments of leisure, before the demands of the day would inevitably descend upon their heads. 'Diamond-bright?' he whispered. 'My heart, my own?'

Only soft susurrus answered. Diamond slept on, her back turned towards him, giving him a view of her tousled curls and meaning he could not watch the play of emotions across her face as she slept.

He rolled to his side, slipped his arms around his beloved and nuzzled the back of her neck.

'Mmmm,' she mumbled sleepily and swatted feebly behind her, quite ineffectually, of course.

'Mmmm?' Pippin teased.

'Mmmm!' she returned, more strongly this time.

'Are we sure about that?' the Thain said.

'Mmmm!' Still stronger, perhaps with a hint of annoyance, but then Diamond suddenly rolled over, laughing, and commenced to tickle him. A grand battle began, leaving the two of them flushed, laughing, and panting for air, and the bedcoverings quite rumpled.

'Mmmm,' Pippin concluded, slipping his arms around his wife once more.

Diamond reciprocated since they were conveniently face-to-face now, and then she giggled and kissed him on the nose. 'Isn't that where we started?'

'D'you want another go?' Pippin asked, quirking an eyebrow, which looked quite comical since he was lying sideways on a bed, his head half-buried in a feather pillow.

Diamond slapped gently at his questing hand. 'They'll all be wakening soon and descending upon us!'

'All of them?' Pippin wanted to know.

His beloved sighed. 'Every one.' She eyed him sternly. 'As you well know.'

Pippin matched her sigh, but he adjusted his hold, as did she, so that they were nestled together in each other's arms, resting comfortably, enjoying together the early-morning quiet.

'Are we alone?' he whispered in her ear. He felt Diamond tense as she listened. He was also listening but heard nothing, not even the snap of a fire. It was so early, Sandy had not crept in to spark the fire on the small bedroom hearth as he usually did before they wakened.

'Perhaps he overslept?' Pippin whispered.

Diamond answered this with a soft snort and a whispered, 'That hobbit! I don't think sleep is one of his duties!' She punctuated the thought with a kiss.

After the kiss ended, Pippin smiled into her eyes and mused, 'Perhaps we ought to add it to his to-do list!'

'That's what I like about you, always full of good ideas!' Diamond murmured, following this observation with another kiss.

'Now that I have you just where you want me,' Pippin said, keeping his voice low, 'and no one else around to hear...'

'You're going to list all my faults,' Diamond said. 'How thoughtful of you, dear! As long as you keep to that scheme of things, and continue to praise me to the skies when anyone else is nearby, we shall get on swimmingly.'

Pippin pretended to shudder. 'Bite your tongue!' he hissed. 'We're not in Buckland anymore!'

'We're not?' Diamond said, and stretched luxuriously, then returned to their mutual embrace and snuggled closer. 'Fancy that.'

'Fancy,' Pippin breathed in her ear. 'Alone... no one else to hear us... nearly as good as the Thain's study when Ferdi's gone out on an errand and Regi's checking on something.'

'Better, I should think,' Diamond returned.

'Better! Well then,' Pippin said, 'I've a mind to speak my mind.'

Diamond's forehead wrinkled. 'Ooo,' she whispered. 'Sounds painful, somehow.'

But Pippin persisted. 'You don't know how often I've had the thought that you ought to be Thain instead of me,' he whispered.

'Hah!' she whispered back. 'Not on your life!'

He nodded, enjoying the sensation of her finger tracing his features. 'I think you ought to keep the possibility in mind... You were absolutely bloody marvellous yesterday,' he said, employing a word he seldom used in polite conversation but one that perfectly expressed the depth of his relief at Diamond's adroit handling of the aftermath of recent events. 

She smiled. 'Thank you kindly, Sir,' she whispered. 'But don't think flattery will get you any farther along that trail! I'm not about to allow you to unload all your troubles and responsibilities and tiresome duties onto my back!'

He put a finger on her lips to quieten her. 'However, I do have a question.'

'A question?'

Pippin scootched a little closer and put his lips to Diamond's ear, the better to keep his whisper as low as possible. 'You told little Goldi that she could come to you if she had any questions. Does that invitation hold for the Thain, as well?'

'I don't know...' Diamond murmured after a moment of thought. 'Should it?'

'It seems to me that you neglected one detail,' Pippin ploughed on. Because they were holding each other, he felt her shake with silent giggles.

At last, with a soft gasp, she lifted her chin to bring her lips closer to his ear and whispered, 'Only the one, was it?'

His arms tightened briefly around her as he squeezed her gently. But all levity had evaporated, and his face was serious as he went on in an undertone that he could barely hear himself. 'You passed judgement on practically everyone in the room, as I recall.'

'Practically,' she murmured back, and nodded slightly.

'But I noticed that you did not pass judgement upon the Thain for his failings, his impulsiveness, his snap decisions...'

'The Thain was not the one on trial this time,' Diamond said, suddenly matching Pippin's serious mood.

'This time,' Pippin said, and trying for lighter speech, he added, 'Does that mean you anticipate additional trials in future?'

'Indubitably,' Diamond murmured, pulling him closer. 'Many trials. Though I hope the Thain won't be the one on trial, ever again.'

'But if you were to have passed judgement on the Thain, speaking hypothetically, of course, what would you have said?' Pippin muttered, only half-joking.

Diamond's eyes narrowed as she locked gazes with Pippin. 

'Don't tell me,' Pippin persisted. 'You're at a loss for words.'

'Actually, I haven't quite made up my mind about him yet,' Diamond said, quoting what Ferdi always answered when his friends and relations asked him whether he thought King Elessar was a ruffian.

Her attempt to hold a straight face was an abject failure; in the end, she giggled, and Pippin tickled her, and she retaliated, and another grand (though almost silent) battle was fought.

By the time that battle ended, Sandy was standing just outside the bedroom door with an armload of wood. When he was quite sure they were finished, he dropped a medium-sized stick of the wood he held onto the stone floor of the hallway, resulting in a satisfying rattle, waited another moment, and tapped gently at the door. 'My deepest apologies, Sir and Mistress,' he said, easing his head around the door and peeking in. 'I hope I didn't wake you.'

The Thain had his head buried under the pillows, but Mistress Diamond, bedcovers pulled up to her chin, blinked at him. 'Not at all, Sandy,' she said. 'We were just now beginning to stir.'

*** 

Chapter 18. Celebrations

'So, did any sorrow mar your birthday, Farry?' Laurel asked. 'Contravening the orders of the Mistress?' To her mind, the silence after Faramir had finished recounting the consequences of the conspiracy had stretched on long enough.

'I don't know about Farry, but this has to be one of the most interesting birthdays I've ever had!' announced Adelbrim.

'And to think you began the day being eaten by a wolf... or nearly so,' Goldi said. 'I should've thought that would top any birthday celebration – the 'nearly so' part of it, I mean,' she added hastily.

Rudi chuckled, got up to stir the fire on the hearth and add another log, and then patted the escort's good shoulder as he went to sit down again. 'Happy Birthday, again,' he said. 'Would you like us to sing you the Song?'

'That won't be necessary,' Adelbrim said. 'A good story, now, I must say that would be welcome...'

'Or the ending of a good story, perhaps? As a matter of fact...' Faramir said. 'I don't think even Bilbo had such a perfect birthday as that one...'

***

Two days after the hearing, Farry's birthday dawned, and truly dawned, promising to be unusually warm and gloriously sunny. No April showers would happen on this day, it seemed! 

Even the large sitting room in the Thain's suite was not large enough to contain the birthday breakfast, what with Pearl and Isum visiting from the farm with all their children, and Pimpernel and Ferdi and all their children attending, and Pervinca and Meliloc and their wee lass. And Farry's Uncle Merry came with Auntie Estella and his little Brandybuck cousin all the way from Buckland! 

Diamond's north-Took relations were unable to attend due to the distance and the demands of planting-time on her father's farm, but they'd sent presents and good wishes by post earlier and promised to be "there in spirit" while conveying their commitment to come "without fail" to Faramir's twentieth birthday, when he'd cross the threshold of tweenhood. 

So the "family" birthday breakfast was held in the great room, instead, after which all of Farry's immediate family and close cousins retired to the largest parlour in the Great Smials, kept for grand occasions that were not quite so grand as to require the space provided by a banquet hall. There, the Gamgee children joined the celebration, along with Farry's more distant cousins and other friends from the Smials and Tuckborough. Gentry and common hobbits mingled freely, talking and laughing and singing and telling stories and generally having a lovely time while enjoying tea and accompaniments that needed no knives or forks or spoons. One bright spot for Farry was that all the foods on offer were his favourite choices from the tea sandwiches and savouries, biscuits and teacakes he'd "helped" his mum by sampling a week or so earlier. 

Shire birthdays may have their own etiquette and social constraints, but social distinctions are generally laid aside for such occasions by almost all Shire-folk, with a few notable exceptions including the Sackville-Bagginses and some factions of the Bracegirdles. Farry's birthday was no exception, meaning that even Sandy (his family's hobbitservant) and Rusty (who served Ferdi's and Tolly's families), as well as Old Tom (the Thain's stable master) and his sons, were honoured guests. 

For Farry, the event was a mix of joy, to be around so many friends and loved ones at once, and solemn duty, for there were so many birthday mathoms to be distributed amongst the crowd. (Indeed, he vowed to himself that he'd ask for a small, private birthday gathering next year, if not for more years in the future.) He'd simplified the matter somewhat by creating the same basic gift for everyone, with a few small variations. He worried, though, that people might take umbrage at receiving similar gifts. 

Two boxes that he'd decorated himself with some care stood upon the table by the entryway, one labelled "lads" and the other "lasses", with a large, carefully-lettered sign reading "Please take only one" propped between them and a larger sign fastened to the wall behind the table with the following instruction: "Please do not open your mathom until the bell is rung." The boxes were filled with handmade envelopes, each sealed with a blob of wax, prompting a buzz of speculation. What sort of mathoms could they be? 

As it were, some of the talk and laughter concerned Faramir's preparations. The lad was deemed "remarkably organised" and "quite extraordinary", though one or two murmured that his parents "should let the lad get out and about more", and one person was even heard to grumble that birthday presents should properly be opened immediately upon receipt and ought to be chosen with the recipient in mind rather than mass-distributed. 

Faramir had consulted his parents on the best time to open his mathoms, and they had helped him set the time as just before the party was scheduled to end, about an hour before the late noontide meal would be served in the great room, giving the celebrants time to take care of any personal business before the meal. When the time was right, Pippin clapped his hands and shouted for attention. Merry, standing beside him, had foresightedly brought his silver horn to the occasion, and he lifted it to his lips and blew a sharp blast. 

The room fell quiet. 'Thank you for coming to my birthday!' Farry shouted, and was answered by a rousing Huzzah!

'We shall now serenade our lad with the Birthday Song!' Pippin announced, then lifted a hand to his face as if he were about to whisper secretly – even as he spoke loudly enough for all in the room to hear him. Just which birthday is it, again?

'Twelve,' Farry answered with a grin. 

The Thain affected great astonishment. 'Twelve!' he exclaimed. 'Well I never!' 

Diamond bent close to his ear and whispered so low that no one else, not even Merry, as close as he was, could quite make out the words. 'That's because you never passed eleven!' 

He grinned at her and answered, 'That's what I love about you, my dear. You always have just the right word for the occasion!' 

(Of course, that left many in the crowd murmuring. What was it? and What did she say?) 

The promised serenade was sung, with the appropriate age inserted in the proper places, the Thain conducting the crowd as if they were an orchestra performing for his pleasure. 

When the song ended, Farry shouted, 'Does everyone have a mathom?' 

A thundering Aye! arose from the crowd. 

Farry turned to Diamond. 'Mum?' he said. 

Diamond beamed and lifted a small silver handbell high in the air, paused to make sure every eye was on her and every ear was listening, and then shook the bell gently, eliciting a delicate tinkle. 

As one, the celebrants tore open their envelopes. Inside were carefully inked drawings taken from nature: butterflies and bees (inside envelopes from the "lasses" box), caterpillars and beetles (from the "lads" box) and flowers and ferns (distributed evenly between both boxes). He'd even taken the time to tint the images with watercolours, though he'd been hard-pressed to finish them all in time. 

A general sigh went up, followed by low-voiced Ooohs and Ahhhs. Farry tugged anxiously at his mother's sleeve, and when she met his gaze, he whispered, 'Don't they like them?' 

'O my lad, my sweet, sweet boy,' Diamond said, and laid a tender kiss on his forehead. 'I think they like them very much.' 

One not-very-tactful hobbit asked Diamond if she had helped Farry with the mathoms, and she answered clearly, in a voice that penetrated to the borders of the room, 'O no! Faramir did it all himself! He's been doing little but drawing for weeks, I can tell you...!'  

And then it was time for the Thain's little family to station themselves by the door, where Faramir thanked each person individually for coming, and many thanked him in return, holding the beautiful drawings as if they were treasures of a sort.  

But as the Gamgees filed out in their turn, Farry touched Goldi's arm and whispered, 'Can you stay to the end? I've got...' 

But in that gathering, private conversations were scarcely possible. And so Goldi nodded and then pulled away to follow Frodo-lad and Rosie-lass and the rest, and Farry wondered if she'd even heard him. 

However, when the room was empty (for Farry told his parents and Uncle Merry and Auntie Estella, when they'd left as the "last ones out" and were on their way to the Thain's quarters, that he'd forgot something and needed to go back), and Farry re-entered it, he was alone for only a breath or two before Goldi pushed the door wider open and came in. 'I wanted to let Frodo know where I'd be so he wouldn't wonder,' she said. 

Farry nodded at this evidence of growing consideration on her part. 'That was thoughtful,' he said. 'I'm glad to hear it.' And then he extended the somewhat larger sealed envelope he held in his hand. 'Here, this is for you.' 

'But I got my mathom at the party, same as everyone else,' she protested. 

'Please,' Farry said. 'Take it. Open it? I made it especially.' 

Goldi slowly pried away the sealing wax and opened the flap. Farry held his breath as she withdrew the drawing, a cluster of leaves with a caterpillar eating holes in a leaf, another spinning a chrysalis, then a chrysalis hanging by itself from the stem of a leaf, and a third chrysalis, from which a butterfly was emerging, wet and cramped. And above the leaves fluttered a host of butterflies, dancing in the sunlight. 

Goldi gasped. 'O! It's beautiful!' And when her eyes met Farry's, he saw tears there. 'When did you do this?' she whispered. 'I mean, I saw some of the others you were working on... and I got a flower from the "lasses" basket...' 

'Yesterday,' Farry said. 'I hope...' He swallowed hard. 

'What do you hope?' Goldi said, her tone unusually gentle. 

'It's a message of hope,' he said, and pointed with his finger to the hungry caterpillar. 'That's us, you see?' 

'Uh-huh,' Goldi acknowledged. 

'And that's—' Farry said, moving his finger to almost-touch the chrysalis-spinning caterpillar, 'that's how we work and play and grow and learn all the things we need to learn to go on...' 

Goldi nodded. 

'And this is us, thinking about it all, because you have to think first before you can begin to understand...' Farry said, indicating the chrysalis. 'Does that make sense?' he added anxiously. Perhaps she'd think he was daft. 

'It does,' she whispered. 

'And this is supposed to be an idea of what my mum likes to call "growing pains",' Farry said, moving to the bedraggled-looking creature emerging from the last chrysalis. 'At least, that is what came to me when I first tried to draw a picture of them.' 

'Growing pains,' she echoed. 

Farry swallowed hard, and then he indicated the flock of butterflies rejoicing above the leaves. 'And this,' he said, 'this is the promise. It's what we can look forward to becoming...' 

The paper was trembling in Goldi's hands now, and then she suddenly threw her arms around Farry, still holding the drawing, and sobbed, 'O Farry!' 

Unsure of how to respond, he cautiously patted her back. 

At last, she pulled away, wiped at her face with her free hand, and said, 'How silly of me! Please forgive my lapse.' Farry thought it might be something she'd overheard a grown-up say, for he'd heard something similar in polite company. 

All he could think to say was, 'Shall we go to nuncheon?' 

***  

Quiet fell in the small parlour in Bridgefields when Farry finished his tale, and only the snap of the bright fire on the hearth broke the silence for some time.

At last, Rudi spoke. 'I do believe that little lad will make a fine Thain someday.'

Laurel kissed him on the cheek. 'And the little lass shows great promise as his Mistress.'

'O aye,' Adelbrim breathed. 'Ye ha' the right o' that.'

***  

Author's note: Some of the ideas in this chapter were inspired by Dreamflower's wonderful Miss Dora Baggins' Book of Manners, Chapter 10: On Birthdays.

***

THE END

***

Author's Notes

Chapter 1. Message from the King

Pippin's serious bout with pneumonia is detailed in Jewels. More about the lingering effects can be found in stories set between Jewels and At the End of His Rope, and A Healer's Tale, in which he finds healing at last. One of the reasons Sam and Rose Gamgee went south with Elanor was to seek some remedy for Pippin.

Pippin's injury in a coach accident, compounding his health problems, happens in At the End of His Rope.

The Pony Post was instituted by Merry and Pippin when the latter left Buckland to take up his duties as Thain. They shared the expense of keeping a supply of fast, sturdy ponies at inns along the Stock Road, and employed relay riders to take news and small packages back and forth between Brandy Hall and the Great Smials. Thus a message could be sent from one to the other, covering the 50 miles between them, in a matter of a few hours, rather than two or even three days.

How Mayor Sam broke his leg on Pippin's behalf is detailed in All That Glisters.

Chapter 2. Taking the Good with the Bad

Pearl's part in Lalia's death can be read in Pearl of Great Price.

Chapter 3. Momentous News

Just a note to say that Regi the Steward married later in life than usual for hobbits; he was something of a confirmed bachelor, when young Rosa, a healer's daughter and healer in her own right, won his heart. He almost did not ask Rosa to marry him, because of their age difference, but Pippin talked him round...

As a result, they are still very much in love, even eight years or so after marrying, and dote upon their children, knowing how easily they might never have come about.

Ferdi's matchmaking ideas, specifically regarding Faramir and Goldilocks, can be seen in StarFire and Truth.

Sam and Rose discovering that they were expecting Tolman, and the consequences resulting in their staying in Gondor for nearly a year, rather than just a brief visit, can be found in At the End of His Rope.

Chapter 4. A Conspiracy is Formed

Farry was taken twice by murderous ruffians in his young life. First, in All that Glisters, and later, in A Matter of Appearances. He was also taken two more times, by not-so-murderous ruffians, once as a faunt while visiting Gondor with his parents, and another time in All that Glisters, when he, his mother, and a cousin were rescued from dying of exposure when stranded while travelling.

Farry's nearly disastrous attempt to run to Gondor is detailed in Runaway.

*** 

I began adding notes at the end of each chapter rather than to a chapter at the end of the story at this point. If you happen to read this, which do you prefer? Notes at the end of each chapter, or all the notes gathered together at the end and published when the story is finished?