Chapter 42. Interlude

The little sitting room is dark and filled with shadows, a solitary lamp turned low, that the sleeper in the bedroom might not be disturbed by bright light spilling through the doorway. And so Ferdi doesn't see me as I pause to look in. There is something to the quality of his voice that makes me hesitate on the threshold; a private moment between the cousins that somehow I am loath to interrupt.

He sits by the bed, turning something over in his hands as he tells of the morning's work, his eyes never leaving his cousin's face. I watch them: Thain and his successor--for though he's been named regent, Ferdi has a good twenty years before Faramir is old enough to be Thain.

'...and so that matter was taken care of,' he says softly, and sighs. 'I say, Pip, I don't know how you do it, day after day, smiling that smile of yours, and the twinkle never leaves your eye... well, seldom, anyhow. Hobbits are such stubborn, silly creatures! Sometimes I think it would do more good to knock their heads together, to get them to see some sense, as to talk myself hoarse.'

He looks down at his hands, and then up again. 'O' course, they have to listen to the Thain... but the Thain has to live up to their expectations, as well, doesn't he? Turn over their words, fit the pieces together, find a solution that's fair to all... Did ye learn it from that King-friend of yours? For Paladin, he always chose the solution that brought the most profit to the Tooks. No one grumbled, no one dared grumble, after you left the Tookland to become a Bucklander, and they saw how hard and cold he became. But there were hard feelings amongst the Tooklanders that weren't Tooks. They couldn't say much. He'd kept them safe through the Troubles, kept the ruffians away. But you...'

Ferdi leans forward, staring earnestly into his cousin's face. 'In your short time as Thain, you've gained a reputation for fairness, for finding a solution that favours none above another, and yet all live with it, even though none might rejoice in it. You can be hard when need be, but not so hard that we break against you... And the times you take the sting from your words with a well-turned jest. Or bring a smile, even a cheer with the wisdom of your decisions! You build folk up; you do not cut them down. How do I...?'

He leans forward yet more as Pippin takes a deep breath--a deep breath! Not the half-breaths he's taken for years, all that his ruined lungs would allow--and murmurs in his sleep, and then turns slightly on the pillow, settling again to silence and steady breathing.

'Well then, the last case to be judged were two neighbours who'd let a fence get into disrepair. The cow belonging to the one got into the other's garden, and though there's not much more than strawberries and spring greens at the moment, what a mess was made! I think you'd approve of my solution... I told them they must work together to repair the fence, and until it was repaired, the owner of the cow must bring a bucket of milk and another of salad greens to his neighbour daily, and for another week after the repair was finished. So the injured party will have greens and milk that came from the eating of his garden, for a week! For don't you know, the cow's owner will have that fence solid and sturdy by the day's end, if not before...'

He chuckles a little, and then regards his cousin wistfully. 'You are looking better,' he says slowly. 'It's not just my fancy running wild...?'

He takes his cousin's hand between his own. 'I honestly do not know how you manage it,' he says. 'Twenty years...! I think I might be able, with Regi's help. You were wise in that... he's not cut out of the right cloth to be Thain... he'd wear thin pretty quick, I'm thinking... but myself! You'd trust a wild Took like me, to take the reins, to guide the plough? You are a fool, Pip, a fool indeed, to think... and yet you know your hobbits. You know how I love the Tookland, how I nearly died for her, and you know I'll do my poor best for her and for her folk.' He bows his head for a long and silent moment.

When he raises his head and speaks once more, his voice sounds choked. 'But I won't take it on before it is time, cousin. While there's breath, there's life, they say, and you'll be Thain so long as you are breathing... you cannot pass it on so easily. You're the best hobbit for the job, as we've all seen...'

He rises from his seat and I pull back into the sitting room, not wanting him to see I've been eavesdropping.

He is still standing by the bed, looking down at its peaceful occupant as I bustle quietly into the room. 'Ferdibrand,' I say. 'How is he?'

'You're the healer,' he says, his expression wary. He has never trusted healers, not since his early years. 'You tell me.'

He watches as I take up one of the wrists in my hand, looks closely into my face as I count the heartbeats, as I watch the rise and fall of the chest.

I sense that he is holding himself tightly in check; Ferdi, hunter that he was for years, would rather be tramping under the open sky than enclosed within these walls. Impulsive and impatient when dealing with other hobbits, at least the grown ones, yet he has learned over the years to control his impulses, to direct his energy into productive pursuits. At last he cannot wait any longer; with a sharp intake of breath he says, 'Well?'

As for myself, I am flabbergasted. The hand I am holding is solid in my grip, no longer skin stretched thin over brittle bone, but substantial, meaty. I look to the face, cheeks no longer gaunt, eyes no longer sunken. I have seen wasted hobbits fill out after death, or just before, as their bodies fail them and the flesh puffs with retained fluids, a mockery of their former substance.

But this is not that, if you take my meaning. Nor has the Thain had any sustenance to speak of, not that I know of, anyhow.

'Has he eaten?' I blurt. Not that one meal would make this sort of difference.

'What are you about?' Ferdi says, stirred to annoyance. 'He's been asleep since you left him!'

Has he somehow taken nourishment from the very air? There is no sense to it, but I can think of no explanation that makes sense.

'Never mind,' I say. 'I meant to say, he'll likely be hungry when he wakens, and as he's slept the morning away, I'd expect him to waken at any time. Why don't you go and tell Sandy to order a good breakfast for the Thain.'

'A good breakfast?' Ferdi whispers, and I hear the hope in his voice.

'Aye,' I say. 'He can cover the plate and put a warming candle under it...' But Ferdi is gone before I finish the sentiment.

Only then do I notice the heavy ring on the hand that I am holding.