'Post for you, Ferdi!' Hilly sang out as he approached, his hands full of letters.

'For me?' Ferdi asked, bemused. No one ever wrote to him except Rosemary, and she was here in the Smials, though Hally had been making noises lately about getting back to Woody End one of these days.

'For you,' Hilly said, taking the top letter off the stack, making a show of sniffing it, and tossing it to him. 'Doesn't smell like a lass, so I guess you haven't been keeping secrets...'

'Wouldn't you like to know?' Ferdi retorted, pulling out his knife to neatly slit the missive open, unfolding it to read the contents. Hilly loitered, plainly curious, as Ferdi guffawed, then the latter looked up and said, 'On your way, laddie. It's not my news to tell.'

Hilly nodded, looking dissatisfied, but realising he'd get no gossip from Ferdi this day. Mayhap on the evening, if he bought him a mug at the Duck... Ah, well, he had other letters to deliver.

Later that day, Ferdi sought out Reginard. 'Did you get a letter from Ev'ard this day?' he asked.

'All the way from Buckland,' Regi answered. 'Seems as if my baby brother has found love in an unlikely place.'

'I thought nothing good ever came out of Buckland,' Ferdi grinned, 'but it seems as if Ev'ard's changed his tune.'

'He has,' Regi said. 'Asked me to stand up for him at harvest time. Seems there's going to be a wedding or somewhat.'

'That might be a bit difficult,' Ferdi said, scratching his chin. 'Didn't you tell me you were planning a wedding about that time?'

'Haven't actually asked the lass, or her father, for that matter, but yes, that's what I was thinking. After the harvest's in, while the weather is still fine but the work is done, that's a fine time for a wedding.'

'And you were going to ask Ev'ard to stand up with you,' Ferdi said. 'What'll you do now? Ask Pip?'

Reginard looked surprised. As a matter of fact, he'd been about to ask Ferdibrand, but... 'Now that's a fine idea, and no mistake,' he said slowly. 'Ferdi, sometimes I do think you have a brain after all.'

'Nice to hear,' Ferdibrand said dryly. 'I suppose Ev'ard will have to ask one of the other engineers, or perhaps a Bucklander, to stand up with him.'

'And when will you be asking someone to stand with you?' Regi asked.

Ferdi laughed. 'Hadn't you heard? I'm to be an old bachelor uncle, the one who teaches the young'uns to shoot and fish and tells fine tales of a winter's eve.'

'I find that hard to believe, you, the head of the Thain's escort? The lasses swoon when they watch you shoot at the tournament...'

'Who'd have me, Reg? I'm the one burned down the old Thain's stables...'

'Nearly burned down the stables, you mean,' Regi corrected.

'O aye, it's been thrown in my face for so long I'd nearly forgotten the truth,' Ferdi said with a laugh, but the steward shook his head.

'Don't, Ferdi,' he said, only to hear the other chuckle again.

'Look at you, Reg, about to marry the lass you fancy, and so happy that you want everyone around you to be happy too. I am happy for you, old lad!' He looked at the angle of the sun. 'But I am about to be late for a very important appointment to go fishing with some friends of mine, so I will leave you on that note. Better write Ev'ard right away, give him time to ask one of those Bucklanders before he returns. I do believe the engineers are supposed to be coming back next week with that magic black powder of theirs.' With a jaunty whistle, Ferdi walked off.

***

The engineers returned from Buckland, with a waggon full of barrels which the Thain locked up with Tookland's gold, in the deepest hole they had, near the Smials, but not too near.

Ferdi was on hand, escorting the Thain, of course, when they demonstrated the properties of the new substance, well, not new, not exactly, new to hobbits more like. Gandalf had given the King the secret of the powder before passing over the Sea, that fireworks should not disappear from Middle-earth with him. The King had thought that the peaceable hobbits could be trusted with the secret, and that the stuff might come in handy in their excavations. Though dwarves were diggers as well as hobbits, they were a shade too aggressive to be given the powder, the King had decided, and they might scorn its use in any event, considering the care they took plying their hammers in the crystal caves.

The engineers demonstrated how the stuff burned with a quick hot flame in the open air, giving off large amounts of white smoke.

The Thain rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'I suppose you could use it for a signal of some sort,' he said, 'though in these peaceful times it is hard to imagine just how you'd put it to use.'

Caged in a confined space, it exploded violently. The engineers dug holes in a rocky hillside in a carefully calculated pattern, inserted tubes of the powder, ran fuses of oiled candlewicking to the tubes, set the fuses alight. From a safe vantage point, the Thain and his escort watched the powder blow the beginning of a tunnel in the hillside.

'Just scrape out the broken rocks and dirt, and keep digging, or if it is too rocky, drill holes in the wall where you want the tunnel to go and blast it again,' Aldebrand said in satisfaction. 'We'll be able to build a new smials in no time at all, compared to the old way of doing things.'

That evening over mugs at the Duck, Everard cleared his throat. 'Ferdi,' he said.

'You have my ear,' Ferdi answered equably, sipping at his mug.

'I was wondering...' Everard said, and stopped.

'Well, spit it out, lad, no need to stand on ceremony with me,' Ferdi said encouragingly.

'I wanted to ask you...' Everard paused, then added in a rush, 'if you'd stand up with me.'

Ferdi looked at him, astonished. 'Are you talking to me?' he asked.

A trace of the old irritation flashed across Everard's face. 'Well I don't see anyone else sitting at the table,' he said, annoyed, 'and I certainly wasn't talking to the serving lass.'

'I... I'd be honoured,' Ferdi said slowly.

Everard jerked his chin in a nod. 'Good,' he said sharply. 'Now drink up. I'm going to buy you a mug.' Ferdi complied, and taking their mugs, Everard got up from the table, muttering to himself.

'Don't tell me you nearly turned him down,' Tolly said, sitting down with him.

'How'd you know he asked?' Ferdi said.

'He worried that you'd say no,' Tolly answered. 'He thinks you're the finest hobbit in the Smials, next to his brother, and he was that shy about asking.'

'Ev'ard, shy?' Ferdi said, thunderstruck.

'Aye,' Tolly whispered. 'And don't you go telling him I said so, or I'll put a cockleburr under your saddle pad.'