Chapter 14. Interlude

I find I am holding my breath as I look from face to face. The moment of decision is rapidly approaching. Will they break with tradition? Is Pippin’s plan to succeed? Has he truly trapped them, or will they slip out of the snare he’s laid them? Will he die at peace, at least as much at peace as one could, cut off short, leaving wife and young children to flounder along without him, or will he die with Reginard a trouble on his conscience?

Though the measured breaths continue, his gaze is fixed, his eyes glazing. The end is very near. The time to do the deed is now, while they think he is still aware, for if he expires in this moment they will be released from any obligation to him, promises not yet given.

Diamond, knowing what he intended, stirs. She eases her hand from behind him, stands up from the bed, kneels down and takes his hand between hers. Someone gasps as she slowly slides the heavy ring, seal and signet of the Thain, from his finger. He has named his preference. Will they honour his wishes? Will his spirit hover long enough to see the outcome? Somehow I think it will, even if his body should give up the fight.

Diamond turns from the bed, one hand still holding her husband’s, and holds out her ring-laden palm, sweeping the room with a glance before her eyes settle on the ring. She waits.

After a long and silent moment, Reginard steps forward. Diamond lifts her gaze to his face, her own expressionless, as he takes the ring from her palm. I swallow down a lump in my throat; I wish to weep from sorrow and vexation. It was not enough. It was not enough.

With a glance at Pippin I see that he was aware, for his eyes close and he slumps in defeat. As the breath whistles out, I realize that he, too, was holding his breath in anticipation, despite the knifelike pain that it cost him.

Reginard is turning away, ring still grasped in his palm. He has not put it on; he would not, except to do the Thain’s business of a necessity. No, only after he is confirmed by the Tooks in solemn convocation will he wear the ring at all times. Until then, unless he is conducting business on behalf of the Tooks, the ring will reside on a plate set at the Thain’s place in the great room during mealtimes, and in Reginard’s pocket at other times.

But he does not put the seal of the Thain in his pocket... I catch my breath as he turns to Ferdibrand and holds out the ring. As if not of his will, Ferdi raises his palm to receive the seal of the Thain. I reach out, grasp Pippin’s shoulder with an urgent grip. He must see this!

Wearily he opens his eyes, to meet Ferdi’s penetrating gaze. ‘I take this,’ Ferdi says. ‘D’you hear, Pip? I will take it, but only until Farry comes of age.’

...and Pippin smiles, the sweet smile of the lad I remember as if it were yesterday. And then, as Ferdi pockets the ring, Pippin's eyes close and he relaxes against the pillows.

 ‘Da,’ Farry gasps, throwing his arms around his father, and Diamond rises from her knees to embrace them both, choking back her sobs.

I look to Reginard. ‘The twins,’ I say. ‘Quickly.’

He nods and hurries from the room, and returns with little Merigrin in his arms, followed by his wife Rosamunda carrying Forget-me-not, whom we call “Ruby” for her name is, at present, “longer than she is”, as Merry Brandybuck likes to joke.

Diamond pastes on a smile and says brightly, ‘Here we are, children! ‘Tis time for sleepy-byes, and Da wants a kiss and a cuddle before you go to your beds, lovies!’

Fed, washed and freshly nappied, the twins are laid down on either side of their father, sleepy and snuggling close.

 ‘Nigh-night, Da,’ lisps Meri, and his sister adds, ‘Me ha’ jammy-bwead fo’ tea, Da. But they wash off all me jammy-kisses!’ Pippin’s smile brightens, and though he does not open his eyes, he kisses each tousled head as Diamond lifts the twins, one at a time, to lay a smacking kiss upon his cheek, and then down again to burrow against his sides, warm and loving.

Tears come to my eyes with memories of happier days, not so long ago, of Meri and Ruby toddling, jam-smeared to their father with their flannel-laden mother in hot pursuit, and of Pippin protesting that he lived for “jammy-kisses”! (And needing the flannel as much as the twins did, after their kisses were tendered...)

And a song arises in the outer room, a song of cool sunlight and green grass, as is found high in the Green Hills of a fine springtide day. Before long the twins are sleeping sweetly, with smiles on their faces. How they’ve missed their da, these past few days when their time with him was short, visits few and far between. How they shall miss him...

Regi and Rosa, Pearl and Isum, Nell and Ferdi, Vinca and Meliloc, all steal quietly from the room to give the little family privacy in their last farewell. I’d take myself off, too, but for the Tooks and their records. I keep hold, counting the heartbeats, ready to make note, for the record, when they cease.

The twins are asleep, and knowing that even thunder would scarcely rouse them, Diamond at last gives vent to her emotions. She embraces him and lays her head down upon his chest, thinking he is beyond hearing, beyond being grieved at her sorrow. ‘O my love,’ she sobs, ‘my own, heart of my heart...’

Farry too weeps bitterly. He has held up bravely for days, but the last time they spoke, his father told him of the final parting with Frodo and Bilbo, and Gandalf... Not all tears are evil.

When the song breaks off in the other room, I want to protest. He is not yet dead! And then Fennel appears in the doorway, beckoning urgently.

I rise as slowly and carefully as I may, not wanting to disturb their grief. Does it truly matter, the exact time of death? When the time comes to write it down in the Book, I am sure I can find in my head or my heart a suitable figure... I lay down his hand, and though it does not befit me as a healer, I place a kiss there before I leave him to answer the summons.