Chapter 16. About a Fortnight Later

Ferdibrand sat unmoving, absolutely silent, until Merigrin returned to his side. He felt a hand, cold with excitement, touch his arm, and then a breath whispered in his ear. ‘They’ve hatched!’

He turned his head, feeling an ear press obligingly close to his lips. ‘How many?’ he breathed. The ear pulled back and he awaited the whispered answer.

 ‘At least a dozen!’ Mergrin hissed in triumph.

 Lovely! his lips formed, and he received an answering squeeze on his arm. The two conspirators sat for a long time, Merigrin whispering a description of the tiny parents’ antics as they flitted in and out of the nest box with food for the hatchlings. Somehow it didn’t matter that they were missing their own second breakfast.

 ***

 ‘How was the wedding?’ Doderic Brandybuck asked that morning at breakfast in the great room at Brandy Hall. He’d returned very late the previous night from a fortnight in Bree, hammering out a trading agreement between Buckland and Breeland.

 ‘Lovely, absolutely lovely,’ the Master of Buckland said. ‘Wouldn’t you say so, Estella?’

 ‘One of the loveliest weddings I’ve been happy to attend,’ she agreed with a smile at her husband. Truly, he’d been so very well rested upon their return... and so had she. They had not been at all exhausted as was usually the case—often it took an entire week to recover from an all-day-and-most-of-the-night affair. Of course, it had been a bit of a surprise to awaken halfway to Buckland, with no memory of getting into the coach and feeling as hungry as if they’d missed the entire wedding feast. The hampers of excellent food and drink made up for what they’d been lacking, and it was a merry party that rode, singing, the rest of the way to Brandy Hall.

***

 ‘Spots,’ Elanor said flatly.

Fastred looked up from the papers he was perusing and took another sip of his tea. ‘Spots?’ he asked in an encouraging tone.

 ‘See for yourself,’ Elanor said.

Elfstan peeped from behind her skirts and grinned at his father’s exclamation, then toddled to the table. Elanor lifted him to his high seat and he picked up his spoon and banged it impressively. ‘Me dot ‘pots!’ he announced proudly.

Fastred looked his son from head to foot. Every inch of tiny hobbit skin was covered with a magnificent profusion of red spots. Though the fever had left Undertowers and Greenholm the week before—on receiving the news they’d packed up tot, new babe, bags and baggage and returned to the Westmarch—evidently a fresh outbreak was under way.

 ‘You certainly have got spots,’ he observed dryly. To Elanor he said, ‘Are they dangerous to the babe?’

 ‘No,’ she sighed. ‘She’ll be quite out of sorts for a week or two, but there’s no danger, and at least she’ll get them out of the way and never have to suffer these particular spots again.’

 ‘Ah, well,’ Fastred sighed. ‘At least the outbreak came after we’d left Bag End.’

 ‘Frodo and I had the spots at the same time as children,’ Elanor mused. ‘I don’t know about Day...’ She tied a cloth around Elfstan’s neck and buttered a slice of bread for him. Since she’d just nursed little Primula, she ought to have enough time for a leisurely breakfast.

 ‘Well let us hope she already had them, for if the Shire is breaking out with spots, they’re sure to hit Hobbiton sooner or later, and what a miserable way to spend those precious early days...’ Fastred said.

Elanor dropped a kiss upon his head and took her place at the breakfast table. ‘That’s one of the things I love about you,’ she said with a grin. ‘ “Precious early days” indeed! Were our early days precious?’

 ‘Of course,’ he replied promptly. ‘They haven’t stopped being precious, either.’

Little Elfstan chortled and banged his spoon as his parents shared a kiss, and then his mother took the top off his boiled egg for him and they settled to their breakfast with a will.

***

Merry-lad leaned his forehead against the door in frustration. He’d been knocking and calling forever, it seemed, and no one had heard him. After early breakfast most of the family had scattered to their chores. Sam-Dad had slept in, having returned late from officiating at the Lily Festival over in Waymeet, and would likely join the family at second breakfast...

...which Merry-lad was as likely to miss, the way things were going. He could not believe that no one had heard or heeded his pounding. Indeed, his fists felt bruised from the exercise, and he was hoarse in the bargain.

How could he have been so stupid as to let the door to the linen press close behind him? He ought to have learned his lesson, ought to have. He gave a snort of disgust. Why, when he got out of here, he’d fix the latch himself! It couldn’t be that hard to figure out.

The door suddenly jerked open and he sprawled into the hallway, gazing up into Goldi’s astonished face. ‘Whatever were you doing in there?’ she gasped.

 ‘I was stuck,’ he rasped. ‘I know, I ought to have propped the door, but I thought I could just reach for the linens on the near shelf and be out again before the door closed...’

 ‘Stuck?’ Goldi asked in surprise. ‘Has the latch broken again?’

 ‘Broken again?’ Merry-lad echoed hoarsely.

Goldi reached for the knob and fiddled it back and forth. She and Merry-lad watched the smooth action of the latch in response to the knob. ‘It seems to be in order,’ she said dubiously. ‘I suppose Dad could look at it again, but it’s been working since he fixed it, day after the wedding.’

Day after the wedding Merry-lad had spent the day on the Party Field, pretending to help and cadging leftover delicacies as they were being packed away by the volunteer cooks.

 ‘Don’t bother Dad about it,’ he said hastily. ‘It seems to be in working order now. I must have just let the door slam too hard, is all.’

 ‘Well, that could be,’ Goldi said, then brightened as Hodge came from the kitchen.

 ‘What’s keeping you?’ he said. ‘Breakfast’s on, and Rose-Mum sent me to find out where everyone is!’

 ‘We’re on our way,’ Goldi said. Hodge extended a hand downwards and helped Merry-lad up, and the three of them linked arms and walked singing all the way to the kitchen.

***

Pippin stared at his plate for a moment before looking up and nodding. ‘You may clear away,’ he said.

 ‘What is it, dear?’ Diamond said softly. O but it felt good again to be just herself and not carrying the weight of two little ones. To be able to eat breakfast, a decent hobbit-sized breakfast, and not feel uncomfortably full after half-a-dozen bites! She sighed. It was sheer luxury. Pippin, on the other hand... ‘You’ve done more thinking than eating this morning.’

 ‘It’s Faramir,’ he said, pouring her and then himself another cup of tea. ‘All he’s done since we returned from the wedding is drag himself about the Smials with a face as long as a rainy day.’

 ‘Yes, well,’ Diamond said. ‘She is too young, you know. We have to give it time.’

 ‘Yes, and if only we could give Farry something to do with all the time he has to fill,’ Pippin said. ‘He does his duties, but his heart’s not in it, and he spends his free time moping...’

 ‘And now he’s gone off his feed,’ Diamond said, always a topic near to her heart.

 ‘Well we cannot have that!’ Pippin said, his eyes crinkling with amusement. ‘We need to give the lad a new interest, a new lease on life, something to look forward to...’

 ‘We could send him to Gondor again,’ Diamond said slowly.

 ‘Who would we send with him? After the last time, Ferdi swore he’d never...’

 ‘Ah well, who can blame him? After what happened the last trip? Of course, Farry’s older now, and not as headstrong...’ Diamond mused.

 ‘The good citizens of Minas Tirith will be happy about that, I warrant,’ Pippin said dryly, adding, ‘We could send Regi, I suppose.’

 ‘O no, not Regi, he’s earned a rest. What about Everard?’ Diamond said. ‘They could stop at the Glittering Caves on the way. He corresponds with Gimli, you know, about mining techniques and digging and delving.’

 ‘Practically a dwarf himself,’ Pippin muttered, but his wife only laughed.

 ‘Send Robin Bolger along; he has a level head and he always knows the truth when he hears it,’ she said. ‘That’s an invaluable skill when travelling in foreign parts.’

 ‘So, Farry, Ev’ard, and Robin, all to go to Gondor,’ Pippin said. He pushed himself back from the table. ‘Faramir will be so well occupied he won’t have time to mope.’

 ‘And by the time he gets back, he’ll have gained some perspective, and the lass will have had some time to think, and to grow,’ Diamond said in satisfaction. ‘Hopefully she’ll miss him, and welcome him back with more promising feelings than she sent him away.’

 ‘Welcome who back?’ Forget-me-not said, breezing into the room. ‘I couldn’t find Merry anywhere, I’m sorry to say.’

 ‘Well we saved you some breakfast,’ Diamond said, easily side-stepping her daughter’s question. ‘Merry, however, will have to go hungry until elevenses.’

 ‘He’s probably forgotten all about eating, watching some bird or other stuffing themselves,’ Forget-me-not said, sitting down and applying herself to the cheese and mushroom omelette, crispy bacon, flaky scones and stewed tomatoes that the deferential servant set before her.

Of course she had the right of it.

***

 ‘What was that, Sam?’ Mistress Rose called. Samwise must have been more tired than she thought; the family was half-through with second breakfast and he’d not yet made his appearance.

He called something indistinguishable down the long hallway from the bedroom.

‘Excuse me, children,’ she said, rising from her chair. ‘I’ll just go to see what your father wants.’

As she reached the bedroom, she didn’t need to hear what he was saying. The evidence was there before her, both her husband and his reflection in the glass.

 ‘Sam?’ she said in wonderment.

He shook his head, staring at his image. ‘Spots,’ he said. ‘Look at ‘em! A regular garden of blooms.’

She nodded, her eyes taking in the sight. Faintly she agreed, ‘Spots...’