Chapter 8. Perchance to Dream

Ferdi and Elanor heard the cheer rise behind them as they reached Bag End. ‘Well,’ the chancellor said. ‘That’s that!’

 ‘Indeed,’ Elanor said through her teeth. She stopped, an immovable rock as she braced her feet and puffed like a bellows.

 ‘Are you about to have the babe on the doorstep?’ Ferdi demanded, his hand tightening on her arm.

 ‘And if I am?’ Elanor managed.

 ‘Perhaps I ought to fetch a healer,’ Ferdi said hastily. ‘I’m sure there must be one in the crowd... Leot! He’s here with Rosie!’

Elanor smiled in spite of everything, Ferdi sounded so unlike himself, no longer coolly amused and in control of the situation. The cramping eased abruptly and she straightened, saying, ‘I am well, really I am, Uncle Ferdi! Honestly, there’s nothing to worry about. Elfstan certainly took his time to get here—three days before he decided to make his entrance—and there’s no reason for this one to be different.’

 ‘If you say so,’ Ferdi said dubiously. ‘Perhaps the long coach ride...’

 ‘I’m well,’ Elanor said firmly. ‘Though I do suspect I’ve spent too long standing about. All I need to do is lay myself down for a bit and I’ll be right as rain.’ She reached for the handle in the middle of the round green door and said, ‘I’ll be fine, Uncle Ferdi, if you’d like to get back to the celebration.’

 ‘Let me see you safely inside, Nell,’ Ferdi said. ‘My Nell will undoubtedly question me closely when I return to her side, and if she hears I left you on the doorstep my life will not be worth living for the rest of the day.’ He stood a little straighter. ‘Now,’ he said officiously, ‘what room are you and Fastred in?’

 ‘Seventh door on the right-hand side,’ Elanor said. She had asked for one of the “inside” bedrooms so that when little Elfstan needed to nap, he’d have peace and quiet with no windows to let in the noise of the festivities on the Party Field.

 ‘I’ll just see you to your room and find Leot,’ Ferdi said. ‘And when Fas has finished his dance with the bride I’ll send him to you as well.’

Elanor didn’t ask him if he could find his way back to the Party Field unaccompanied. Ferdi probably had the route by heart, every turn of the path, every step from the smial to the garden gate, for he’d made many visits to Bag End in the past “on a commission from the Thain”.

‘Very well,’ she acquiesced. She opened the door and took Ferdi’s arm once more. ‘I’m feeling better by the moment; they were false pangs, I’m sure, for I haven’t had another since...’

Fatal words, for another strong cramp seized her at that moment and she hugged herself with a gasp. ‘I think my water’s broken!’

 ‘Steady on,’ Ferdibrand said.

Exactly as he might to his pony, thought the remote part of Elanor that could find amusement even at a moment like this.

Whether Ferdi’s head was truly affected by the Sun, or he was rattled by the apparent immanence of birth, whatever the cause, he miscounted the doors in the hallway as they proceeded to the guest room. Truth be told, Elanor was a bit preoccupied and not paying best attention to the matter herself. Thus it was, neither noticed when Ferdi’s searching hand found the knob of the eighth door on the right-hand side, opened it, and propelled them into the room.

Elanor stumbled and the chancellor caught her rather awkwardly. ‘I’ve got you,’ he murmured reassuringly. He’d left hold of the door in the meantime, which swung itself to with the faintest click of the latch.

***

Frodo-lad danced the first dance with Mother Rose, smiling down into her face. When did he grow to be so tall? she mused to herself, taking her hand from his to dab at a threatening tear.

 ‘You look so much like your father,’ she whispered. ‘How I remember our wedding day, under that very tree!’

Frodo smiled at his mother and squeezed her hand, even as his eyes were caught by the brightness of Daisy's ribbons beyond them.

 Fastred came up to Daisy and her father at the end of the first dance, and Rus Burrows tightened his grip on his eldest daughter’s fingers for a second before releasing her. ‘Grace go with you, Daisy,’ he whispered.

 ‘O Dad!’ she said, sniffing back a tear that somehow did not dim the radiance of her countenance.

 ‘Come along,’ Fastred said with a smile, tucking her hand securely into his arm. ‘There’s someone waiting for you.’ The fiddler struck up a lively tune and they joined the whirl of dancers. When the music slowed, then stopped, Frodo was there.

 ‘I’ve tired her out for you,’ Fastred said. ‘She may not dance you under the table at this rate.’

 ‘I’m fresh as my namesake!’ Daisy laughed. ‘Just you watch! Frodo and I have been waiting so very long, we’ve stored up many a dance in anticipation of this day!’

 ‘Fresh as a daisy and twice as pretty,’ Frodo said, taking her hands. He nodded to the fiddler, who waved his bow in the air and struck up another tune.

Fastred took out his handkerchief to wipe his face and neck. ‘There’s a job well done,’ he said. ‘My part’s finished! Where’s Ellie? I promised her a dance!’

As he searched through the crowd, everyone he asked had “just seen” Elanor "lately". They kept directing him to another part of the Party Field. The last hobbit he asked said Ellie was in the company of Chancellor Ferdibrand, and Fastred relaxed. Ferdi would take good care of Ellie. In the meantime, he was famished! Elanor would be the first one to tell him to sit down and eat something after the labours of seeing Frodo safely joined to his Daisy.

Carrying his loaded plate to one of the tables, he had to dodge a group of young hobbits darting here and there, playing at “Ruffians” and “gathering” sweetmeats from the serving platters, ducking under the tables to eat their plunder. Perry Brandybuck seemed to be the leader of the game, and Fastred looked about for the Master of Buckland to let Merry know what his son was up to. He saw little Miri Brandybuck first, dancing solemnly with Mayor Sam, counting every step aloud whilst the Mayor carefully kept in step with the little lass.

 ‘Miri,’ he said.

 ‘O hullo, Fas,’ she answered, lifting her eyes from her feet for just a moment to acknowledge him.

 ‘Can you tell me where your father is?’ Fastred persisted.

Sam smiled. ‘He’s over there, at the last table,’ he said with a nod in the proper direction. ‘He said it would be quieter than sitting at the head table.’

 ‘You’re out of step!’ little Miri said severely, and Sam apologised and hastily amended his dancing.

 ‘I can see you’re busy,’ Fas said, managing to bow without upsetting his plate, and he took himself off towards the last table.

Merry and Estella were alone at this table; all the other merrymakers were dancing or eating and laughing at more crowded tables. He sat down near the Brandybucks, wondering if perhaps too much brandy had been added to the punch. The Master and Mistress of Buckland were leaning against each other. Estella was tucked under Merry’s arm, her eyes closed, and Merry’s head rested upon hers, and the both of them were sound asleep!