Chapter 11. Shining Through

 ‘You’re getting close,’ Ferdi said encouragingly.

 ‘Am I?’ Elanor snapped, breathless. ‘I’d like to know how you can tell!’

 ‘My Nell always took my head off at this point in the birth,’ Ferdi said.

 ‘Hah!’ Elanor retorted. She wanted to add more, much more, and uncomplimentary in the bargain, but the chancellor’s fingers tightened on her arm and he cleared his throat uncertainly.

 ‘Nell,’ he said, and stopped.

 ‘Well? What is it?’ she gasped. ‘Spit it out, Uncle, I haven’t time for tea and chitchat!’

 ‘I need to check, to see...’ he said uncomfortably.

Elanor nearly smiled to hear the urbane chancellor stumbling over his words, even as she bristled at his meaning.

 ‘What I mean is, if the babe’s arriving someone’s got to be ready to catch...’

 ‘I know what you mean!’ she shouted, and then was blinking in the unaccustomed light, for they were no longer in pitch-darkness. It took a moment to realise that the door—the door! It was open!

Too late she cried, ‘The door, catch the— ’ and then the light was gone and her brother Merry was gasping her name.

 ‘Merry-lad?’ Ferdi said. ‘Is that you?’ He must be rattled, thought Elanor privately, for he’d never misjudged a voice in all the years she’d known him, and now he sounded so uncertain...

Merry-lad still held the bucket, half-full of water, that he’d brought with him to brace the door. He hadn’t bothered about a lamp. He’d just open the door, set down the bucket to hold it, and by the light from the corridor find the box of canning jars. It would have been a good plan had he not been startled nearly out of his wits by the sight that greeted his eyes as he stepped into the linen press.

 ‘Ellie?’ he repeated numbly. ‘What are you about?’

 ‘I’m about to have this babe!’ she said bad-temperedly, ‘and if only you’d held the door we’d...’ She broke off with a terrible moan, and Merry heard a confused flurry of movement.

 ‘I feel the head,’ Ferdi said, ‘the babe is coming indeed. Just a push or two and you’ll be done. Come Nell, push!’

 Merry heard his sister’s wordless answer, sounds he’d heard time and again from his mother just before a new Gamgee greeted the world, and then Ferdi was shouting, ‘I’ve got the babe! I’ve got...’

 ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ Ellie whispered, hearing the mewling sound as the babe drew breath and sang its first song.

 ‘A girl, pretty as a picture,’ Ferdi answered after a pause. ‘Got all her fingers and furry toes, she has, and the sweetest little face, Nell, and a head full of curls.’ He laid the babe in her mother’s arms and added, ‘We’re nearly done now, lass, just the last bit to do and you may rest.’

Elanor hardly attended, for she was holding the wee bit and crooning.

Merry heard the soft pop of a stopper and smelt strong spirits, then Ferdi said, ‘There, tied off, cleansed the knife, now to cut the cord...’ his voice trailed off into muttering until he said brightly, ‘That’s done! Good thing I always have a little nip with me in case of emergencies.’ There was the sound of a sigh and he added, ‘Ah! There’s a bit of cheer. Would you like a nip, Ellie?’

To his shock, Merry heard his sister say, ‘Don’t mind if I do, Uncle Ferdi.’

 ‘Ellie?’ he said.

 ‘Would you like a nip as well, young Merry?’ Ferdi said cheerily. ‘We’re toasting your new niece!’

 ‘Hall’s finest,’ Ellie said after a sip, and giggled. All her cares had melted away and she felt grand, spirits or no spirits. But this was undoubtedly some of Brandy Hall’s best vintage.

 ‘I just wish I had some soap and water,’ Ferdi said. ‘We’ve made a bit of a mess, we have, and I’d like to have you a bit more comfortable.’

 ‘I... I... I have water,’ Merry said, belatedly remembering his bucket.

 ‘Well, then, lad, well come!’ Ferdi said, and Merry heard him arise from the pallet. In a moment Ferdi’s hand had found him and moved unerringly down his arm to take the handle of the bucket. ‘That’s just fine, Nell. We’ll get you all clean and cozy and then you may have a nice nap.’

 ‘We might even forgive you for letting the door close,’ Elanor added.

 ‘Oughtn’t we to call for help?’ Merry asked, still standing by the door. He had the greatest urge to bolt but of course there was nowhere to go.

 ‘O we’ve been doing that for hours,’ Ferdi said. ‘You’re the first to come. You may shout for help if you like, but I doubt anyone will hear.’

 ‘He is not welcome to shout for help,’ Elanor said. ‘He’ll disturb the baby.’

 ‘Too true, I’m afraid,’ Ferdi said. ‘Very well, then, Merry-lad, you may not shout for help, for it’s likely to do no good and might do some harm. They’ll be coming back from the celebration at some point and when we hear voices in the hallway we’ll give them a song.’

***

 ‘Give us a song!’ the Tooks were shouting, ‘Farry! A song! One more song!’ It was nearly midnight and the Thain had made his final speech, expressing all his fondest wishes for the newlyweds and bidding the crowd farewell, though more than a few would likely dance until the dawning if the musicians held out. It was a long trek back to Tookland. As it was, he’d be getting back to his Diamond about the same time of day he’d left her.

Faramir wished he could sink into the ground, but his father put a firm arm about his shoulders and propelled him to the top of the feast where the musicians stood.

 ‘Nothing for it,’ the Thain muttered in his son’s ear. ‘ ‘Tis bad luck to mourn at a wedding.’ He nodded at the fiddler and that grizzled hobbit struck up a joyful calling song. Fingers tightening on Farry’s shoulder, Pippin began to sing.

 Whereto fare ye this fine day?
Bright and early, First of May!

Somehow Farry managed to make the response.

To my wedding, so I say,
Drummer, drum and fiddler, play!

The guests began to clap and Daisy-Day picked up her skirts for a pretty twirl, then Frodo took her hands again and they led out the dancers. All the merry crowd joined in on the choruses as the Thain and his son sang the many verses of the sprightly old tune.

Leading Goldilocks down the line of clapping dancers, Hodge met Farry’s eye. The son of the Thain gave him a nod and pasted on a smile, and he waved back cheerily. ‘Maybe it was something he ate,’ he observed to Goldi. ‘He seems jolly enough now.’

 ‘Something he ate,’ she huffed under her breath. ‘He has no call to pull a long face, with the prettiest hobbit lass in the Shire dancing attendance upon him!’

Hodge stared at her in surprise. Farry hadn’t danced a single dance, save with his sisters, he’d partnered young Forget-me-not into dinner, and... In sudden realisation he said, ‘Goldi, that was his sister! She was grieved that her hat had been crushed in the coach, and he straightened it as best he could and put it on her and told her how lovely she looked!’

Goldi stopped short, and he had to tug her back into motion so that they wouldn’t spoil the dance. After being dragged a few steps she found their rhythm again, but continued to stare at him with a look of shock that was almost comical. ‘His sister?’ she said. Mixed emotions crossed her face, bemusement, wonder, laughter at foolish chance... all followed by regret. ‘I’ve been avoiding him all the day, because of... his sister?’

 ‘You have the right of it!’ Hodge said with an emphatic nod, then he lifted her hand for a twirl just before they took their place in the line, joining hands so that the next couple could pass under their archway. ‘So are you going to dance with him?’

 ‘This is the last dance that I could,’ Goldi mourned. ‘The Thain is leaving!’

 ‘Then as soon as this dance is over you’d better catch him before he leaves,’ Hodge said. He was not talking about the Thain.