Chapter 15. For Better or Worse

The Thain was ready to leave his bed long before the healers were ready to let him, and as it was, they let him up nearly a week before Healer Woodruff wished.

'I wash my hands of you, Thain Peregrin,' she said in disgust, 'and don't you come whining to me when you fall and flatten that fine nose of yours.' He wouldn't, of course; he might do anything, but he wouldn't whine.

Days before Woodruff would have thought possible, he was out and about with his escort, riding his pony to inspect the fire damage, taking reports from the farmers whose fields had burned, sorting out a dispute or two over livestock. All too soon, harvest time was upon them, and though Regi did all he could to spare him, Pippin was in the thick of things, not actually working in the fields, of course, but riding about, checking progress, seeing for himself that accurate figures were being reported.

Consulting with Regi, he made sure that a certain amount was laid aside, preserved, if need be, for emergency, against the possibility of poor harvests in the future. He took half the surplus that the old Thain would have ordered sold at market at a tidy profit, and set it aside for the elderly, the widowed, the ones unable to work, and he also gave Ferdibrand the task of seeing to it that all who needed firewood laid up for the winter would somehow be able to obtain it, even at the Thain's expense.

When chided by some of his relatives that Thain Paladin would have done things differently, he reminded them that the Thain took care of the people who could not care for themselves, even if it cost him something to do so. He expected families to care for their own, of course, but there were always those left without families, like the old gaffer whose only child had died young, and now that his wife was gone, was alone in the world; or the widow who'd lost husband to the coughing sickness that had swept Tookland two years before. Then there was the woodsman whose axe had bounced from a knot in a log and into his leg, laming him badly enough to keep him abed for weeks.

Regi marvelled at the difference, though he was wise enough to keep his thoughts to himself. If he were to speak of the Brandybucks' influence, the Tooks' resentment might make these changes impossible, beneficial as they might be. Did anything good ever come out of Buckland? was still a byword amongst those proud, stubborn folk. Regi's answer, had someone asked him, would have been a resounding, Yes! Thain Peregrin!

There was a harvest fest to prepare, and weddings to plan, and the Mayor of the Shire rode to Tuckborough several times to consult with the Thain over the festivities. The Thain and his family also rode more than once to Bag End, to enjoy the Mayor's hospitality and his wife's fine cooking.

At last, harvest was finished, the barns and storage holes were bulging, and a great horde of Brandybucks descended upon Tuckborough, bearing with them Everard's bride.

'The trees can breathe easier, now,' Ferdi teased over mugs of ale in the Spotted Duck. 'We won't need to cut so many for your letter writing.'

'Remind me why I asked you to stand up with me,' Everard said.

'Well, if you don't know, then how can I be expected to know?' Ferdi asked reasonably.

Everard snorted, and bought another round.

'Have you seen her yet?' Tolly wanted to know. Everard shook his head.

'Bad luck to see the bride the day before the wedding,' Reginard said morosely, staring into his own ale.

'Don't worry, Regi, you'll remember what she looks like when she stands by your side,' Fredibold said. 'I hardly think you'll mix her up with Ev'ard's bride.'

'No, but the two brides might mistake the brothers,' Tolly said, and shouted with laughter.

'We don't look that much alike,' Reginard said. 'I'm much handsomer.'

'Hah,' Ev'ard said. 'Not on your best day.' He placed his face next to Regi's, saying, 'We do not look a bit alike, now...'

'Yes, Regi,' Ferdi said. 'I mean, Ev'ard. I mean... just which brother are you, anyhow?'

The table erupted in laughter again, until a quiet voice spoke just behind the brothers.

'Reginard, I think you and your brother have had enough. 'Tis time to take your rest, now. You do want to enjoy your wedding day, do you not?'

Regi and Ev'ard turned to find Pippin standing behind them, smiling, but firm. He tossed a coin upon the table, saying, 'I'll buy the last round,' then took both brothers by the elbows and escorted them from the room.

The fresh, cool air of deepening night sobered them slightly, but Pippin waited until they had mounted their ponies before pulling himself up into his saddle. Reginard noted that his breath came short, and said, 'Pippin?'

'It's the night air, something about the mist,' Pippin answered. 'I'm fine. Nothing that a good night's sleep won't cure.'

They turned their ponies back towards the Smials. Reaching the courtyard, Pippin slid down and tossed his reins to Regi. 'Make sure he gets an apple before he's put to bed?' the Thain asked, and without waiting for a reply, he walked into the Smials.

'Is he well?' Everard asked Regi softly.

'No,' Reginard answered. 'But he's never let it stop him before. He'll be at the wedding if he's standing in the grave to do it.'

'I hope it doesn't come to that,' Everard said.

'That makes two of us,' Regi muttered.