When the Tooks' waggons reached the Great East Road, Ferdibrand tapped the driver of his waggon on the shoulder. 'Let me off here,' he said.

Reginard looked at him in astonishment. 'What are you doing?'

'Taking a holiday,' Ferdi said. 'I haven't taken a day off since Merry started minding Pippin; I've stood guard duty each night up until we left for Long Cleeve. Years, it's been. I'd say it's about time, wouldn't you?' He thought a moment. 'Take care of Dapple for me, will you?'

'I will... but what do I tell your father?' Regi asked.

'Tell him I went to visit his favourite daughter, that ought to please him,' Ferdi said.

'And what do I tell the Thain?' Regi asked.

'Tell him whatever you like,' Ferdi answered. 'Tell him I'll be back in a month.' ...or not, he added to himself.

He picked up his sack and jumped down, waving to the driver to go on. 'I'm off to see my sister,' he said. 'Don't wait supper for me.' He turned away with a grin for the other Tooks' open-mouthed surprise and began to trudge eastward. Eventually he'd turn south and cut across country to Woody End.

Walking down the Road, he looked at the swifts darting in the skies above the fields, and felt a sudden intoxicating rush of freedom. Soon the noise of the waggons was gone, and there was just himself, the breeze, the sunshine, and the surrounding fields. A lark launched itself as he watched, flying straight up as if it would find its rest in the lap of the Sun herself, its song piercingly sweet. He stopped just to drink it all in.

A farm waggon came up behind him and the farmer hailed him. He accepted the offer of a ride.

'How far are ye going?' the farmer asked.

'Frogmorton,' Ferdi said. From there he could cut across country, south and a little east, until he reached the woods, the Stock Road, and some miles south of the Road, his sister's home.

He slept that night in a hollow tree, a familiar refuge, a place he'd hid many the time when the ruffians were on his trail. The night was mild enough, he didn't miss having a fire, and Diamond had packed bread and cheese enough for several hungry hobbits, in the kitchen at Long Cleeve, before the Tooks piled into the waggons to take their leave. Pretty girl, Diamond. Too bad she only had eyes for the son of the Thain.

When he reached his destination, he paused in the shadow of the trees to watch his sister, a tray of tarts in hand, being swarmed by hungry small hobbits. After the tray was empty, the little ones scattered to their play or chores, and Rosemary went back inside. Ferdi followed her quietly.

He tiptoed up behind his sister, and after she put down the tray, he placed his hands over her eyes, and said, 'Did you save me any of those fine-looking strawberry tarts, now, or are you only feeding ruffians these days?'

She gasped and whirled. 'Ferdi!' she cried, throwing her arms about him. He held her, and then they danced a few steps, ending in a fast twirl, before he let her go again, to fall into a chair laughing. 'You rascal!' she scolded. 'It has been too long...'

'Two years,' he said, 'since you came to Tuckborough for the Pony Races.'

She shook her head. 'I cannot believe it is nearly three years ago we threw the ruffians out; how quickly the time has gone.' Ferdi smiled. For him, each day had run into another in an endless procession, but he said nothing, content to let his sister fuss over him, a warm feeling after being a ghost for so long. She had jumped up and was filling a plate with tarts, plonking them down on the table with a cup of tea fixed just the way he liked it, nagging at him to have a seat and, 'Eat! Eat! Hally will be glad to see you; he was just talking about making another trip to Tuckborough and now you've saved him the trouble.'

She sat herself down with her own cup of tea, fanning her face after her whirlwind endeavors. 'How's Father?'

'The same. Every day a new grumble. His teeth have gone missing three times since Hally brought the last set two years back. The last time they turned up, someone had hidden them in a pickle barrel. Gives him something new to complain about. Everything tastes now like pickles.' Hally had carved an exquisite set of wooden teeth for Ferdinand Took, while on a long visit to the Great Smials the summer after the ruffians had been tossed out of the Shire. These teeth were a great temptation to the younger Tooks in the Smials.

'Fits him,' Rosemary said. 'If he weren't so sour, he wouldn't be so inviting a target for mischief.'

'Ah, well. Whatever would he talk about otherwise?' Ferdi said philosophically. 'Mmmm,' he added, biting into a tart. 'You haven't lost your touch. These taste just like Mum's.'

A small hobbit had peeked in the door and run off again, shouting, and soon the woodcarver himself was there, a crowd of young hobbits around him. 'Ferdi,' he smiled. 'Good to see you. It has been too long.'

'Uncle Ferdi! Uncle Ferdi!' the young ones clamoured, and one shouted, 'Did you bring us presents?'

'Now why would I do a thing like that?' Ferdibrand said. 'What's got into you, Robin?'

'I'm Robin!' a larger specimen said. 'He's Buckthorn.'

Ferdi arose and bowed gravely. 'I beg your pardon, Robin,' and bowed to the other, 'Buckthorn.' He picked up his sack, weighing it consideringly. 'Hmmm, there might be somewhat in here...'

The children cheered and gathered round. 'Let me see, now,' Ferdi said, kneeling down. He carefully brought out a quiver, worked exquisitely of leather, with many intricate designs. 'I think there's one for each lad, let us see now...' He gently withdrew an arrow, handing it to the eldest lad. 'Fletched it myself, you know,' he said. 'You'll have to have your smith fit a point to it.' He looked up at his sister. 'I thought you'd be the best judge as to what kind of pyles your sons may use.' His last set of arrows had been wickedly tipped, suitable for bringing down a large deer... or a ruffian.

When the arrows were all given out, he reached into the bottom of the quiver to bring up a handful of bright feathers. 'I'm sorry, I've naught else,' he said to the two lasses who stood before him. 'Will these do?' The littlest one nodded shyly, finger in her mouth, and the older one carefully took the feathers from his hand, with a little bob and a thank you.

'But your quiver's empty!' Rosemary said. 'What'll you shoot?'

'I've no bow,' Ferdi said.

'That's easy enough to fix,' Hally said, lifting down a finely crafted bow from a shelf, stringing it quickly, and offering it to Ferdi. To his surprise, Ferdi waved it away.

'You need a bow to ride escort for the Thain,' his sister protested.

'I don't ride escort anymore,' Ferdi said quietly. 'I open doors for folk who want to go in or out of the Smials.'

'Ferdi,' Rosemary breathed, sinking into a chair.

'Don't grieve, Rosie, I've had plenty of excitement in my life. It's about time I had some peace and quiet.'

'How long are you here for?' Hally asked, changing the subject.

'Until you throw me out,' Ferdi grinned.

'Never!' the little hobbits shouted.

'That settles it,' Hally said. 'I guess you're staying forever, then.' For the first time in a long time, Ferdi laughed.