Chapter 9. A Little Later in the Day

 ‘There’s a fine kettle of fish for you,’ Ferdi said, running his hands once more around the perimeter of the door. ‘Hinges on the outside, latch not working—or working all too well, for it is latched good and proper and there’s no unlatching it.’

 ‘What are we going to do?’ Elanor whispered, and Ferdi could hear the tears in her voice. ‘No one to hear us; everyone’s on the Party Field.’ From where they stood not even the faintest tones of fiddle and drum came to them. There was no hope that shouts for help would be heard, not unless someone returned to the smial for some needed item.

She gasped and he reached for the sound of her, folding her in his arms. ‘There-there, lass,’ he said. ‘We’ll get through this.’

 ‘It’s so dark,’ she sobbed, and he felt her tense as another contraction seized her.

 ‘Where’s my brave girl gone, then?’ Ferdi asked.

 ‘I cannot, Uncle Ferdi,’ she gasped. ‘I cannot do this!’ She began to tremble violently as the contraction eased.

 ‘It seems that we are going to do this, whether or not it is something we can,’ Ferdi said. ‘Quick now, Nell, before the next pang, tell me where we are?’ When Ellie bowed her head against his shoulder and did not answer, he took a deep breath. ‘I smell... candle wax,’ he said. ‘Beeswax, and... spices,’ he added, ‘but not the sort in a pantry, more the sort you use to keep moths away and freshen...’

 ‘Linens,’ Elanor said softly.

 ‘A linen closet?’ Ferdi asked, and felt her nod against his shoulder. ‘Well then,’ he said, injecting heartiness into his tone, ‘this is a fine place to be, in truth! Much better for our purposes than a pantry, any road!’ He gave Elanor a gentle squeeze and leaned her against the recalcitrant door. ‘Here, you stay here a moment whilst I get things ready.’

He felt his way to one side, fetching up against the first set of shelves, keeping up a steady stream of encouraging chatter, asking questions about the contents of the room. Built by a hobbit who was fond of company, the “press” was of a fair size, with many shelves of coverlets and featherbeds, woollen blankets and extra pillows, tablecloths and serviettes, furniture covers and oilcloths and all the other necessities.

Ferdi denuded one deep shelf of its blankets, making a soft bed upon the floor that he covered with a large oilcloth and then a sheet. ‘Here we are, Nell,’ he said cheerily, finding his way back to the door partly by the sound of Elanor’s soft, helpless weeping. ‘A nice soft nest for the mother bird,’ he added, taking her in his arms again and walking her the few steps along the wall to the “bed”. ‘You just lay yourself down there,’ he said gently, easing her down and sitting himself beside her. ‘There-there,’ he soothed, holding her close as she sobbed.

When she caught her breath at the next contraction, Ferdi said, ‘All will be well, Nell, you’ll see.’

 ‘How many babes have you delivered?’ she sniffed when the contraction was over. ‘O Mum!’ she wailed softly as the next began.

 ‘Now-now,’ Ferdi said firmly. ‘I’ve a few babes of my own, you know, and I was with my Nell the entire time.’

 ‘But how many did you...’ Elanor said stubbornly, breaking off again.

 ‘Many’s the little one I’ve helped into the world,’ Ferdi said stoutly, neglecting to add that the births had involved ponies and not hobbits at all. ‘Come now, Nell, from the way you’re breathing I can tell you’re not far from having this babe. We’ve got to get your things off and make you comfortable.’

 ‘But...’ Nell protested.

Ferdi could imagine her furious blush; he rolled his eyes at the liberties he was taking. For his own benefit as well as hers, he said, ‘Let us make believe I’m a healer, shall we? That would make it all right. They do this sort of thing all the time, and there’s no shame in’t.’

Fumbling in the darkness, hampered by the contractions, Elanor removed her lower garments, handing them to Ferdi who folded them and put them aside. He covered her with another sheet and a light blanket, and when she whispered that she was still feeling chilled he added a featherbed on top. Settling beside her, he found her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

 ‘There, all cozy,’ he said. ‘You just let me know if you need aught.’ When she didn’t answer, he began to sing.

***

 ‘Well then Farry, why are you not dancing?’ Pippin said, coming upon his son suddenly.

Faramir jumped, then jammed his hands in his pockets and ducked his head. ‘Don’t feel like dancing,’ he mumbled.

 ‘What’s that? With so many fair maidens vying for your attention, and the music so lively and fine?'

It was true that gaggles of goggling girls huddled together, whispering and giggling and nudging one another whenever Faramir chanced to glance their way.

 ‘No one to dance with,’ the lad muttered miserably, and the Thain followed his eyes to a certain golden head that was bobbing and whirling in the midst of the dancers.

 ‘Ah,’ Pippin said with sudden insight. ‘Well then,’ he added, ‘go and dance with your sisters. For some reason Meri’s complaining of tender feet, and they’re too young to dance with any but a brother.’

 ‘Yes sir,’ Faramir said dutifully, and went off to dance first with one sister and then the other while the other fair maidens sighed and watched with wistful looks.

Duty accomplished, Farry sat out the next dance, a fast and furious affair which left the dancers gasping and laughing at the end. Goldilocks Gamgee practically fell into a chair, breathless, and Faramir saw his chance. He hurried to one of the tables of refreshments, scooping up a glass of punch; but when he returned, Hodge Sandyman had already provided a cool drink for Goldi and was fanning her as she sipped.

 ‘Good punch, eh, Master Took?’ Hodge said in a friendly way, raising his own glass to salute Faramir.

 ‘Indeed,’ Faramir said politely. Goldi pointedly looked in any direction but at him. Just as he’d gathered enough nerve to speak to her, the ringing of a bell cut through the sounds of the music and the fiddler quickly brought the current dance to a close.

 ‘Supper!’ came the call. ‘There’ll be more dancing by and by, but first, supper ‘neath sunset sky!’

Hodge looked at Goldi, half expecting her to jump up and take Farry's hand, to run to take their place in the line of hobbits that was forming for supper. She was looking at Hodge, however, with an expectant air. Would wonders never cease? With a polite nod to the son of the Thain, Hodge offered Goldi his arm and they joined the merrymakers on their way to the feast, leaving Faramir standing stupidly staring after them.

The laughing bride and groom led the procession to the long tables laid out in the open air, for the pavilions had not been needed against rain and with the Sun sinking lower their shade was not needed either. Torches were jammed into the ground at intervals, lamps stood along the length of the tables ready to be lit and lanterns hung from the Party Tree. The feast would continue after the Sun sought her bed, and then there would be dancing under the stars until the wee hours.

 ‘Where has Ferdi got himself to?’ Pimpernel fretted to her brother.

 ‘You know,’ Pippin answered thoughtfully, ‘the brightness of the Sun was bothering him earlier. I saw Elanor walking him back to Bag End.’

 ‘Perhaps I ought to go and see,’ Pimpernel said worriedly.

 ‘Don’t fret yourself, Nell, you know he wouldn’t like it,’ Pippin said. ‘He probably fell asleep, and will be all the better for the rest. If you miss the wedding supper on his account he’ll be terribly put out.’

 ‘But...’ Pimpernel said, hesitating.

 ‘Elanor hasn’t returned, not that I’ve noticed,’ Pippin said. ‘She’s probably sitting next to the sofa in the parlour, waiting for him to waken. Why, they probably heard the call to supper through the open windows just now, and will be joining us shortly.’

 ‘Ellie’s sitting with Ferdi?’ Fastred said, having come up in time to hear the last part of the conversation. ‘Good to know. I was beginning to wonder where she was. Is Ferdi having his head pains again?’

 ‘You know how bright sunlight troubles him,’ the Thain said. ‘I’ve often hoped it meant his eyes were somehow healing, if the light were making an impression, but...’

He looked so cast down that Pimpernel impulsively hugged him. ‘It’s all right, Pip,’ she said. ‘I’ll partner you to the feast since your Diamond isn’t here, and you may partner me since my Ferdi is ill.’

 ‘And who am I to partner?’ Fastred said. ‘My wife is sitting bedside watch and I am left bereft and alone!’

 ‘Come join us at the orphans’ table,’ Pippin said. ‘You can fill a plate for your wife and take it up to her afterwards.’

 ‘A goodly plan!’ Fastred said, then linking arms with the other two he began to sing, ‘A hobbit could never an orphan be, with half the Shire his family...!’

 ‘Here’s your papa!’ sang Primrose Gamgee, swooping down on them with little Elfstan. ‘I told you we’d find him!’

 ‘Pa!’ Elfstan chirped, reaching chubby arms.

 ‘My great boy!’ Fastred said, ‘come along with us, for it’s time to feast!’

 ‘No nap!’ the little one said firmly as his Auntie Prim set him down in the grass.

His father laughed. ‘Indeed not!’ he said. ‘It is a special day, for Uncle Fro’s got married, you see, and we’ll have to count the stars as they come out to see how many anniversaries he and Auntie Day will celebrate.’

 ‘We might have to stay up all the night to manage that!’ Pippin grinned.

 ‘Whee!’ the little one said in glee. ‘No bed!’ He turned and toddled as fast as his fat little legs could carry him towards the tables with their platters piled high with festive food. Laughing, the three big hobbits followed the little one to the feast.