19. There Ripens a Dreadful Ending for You

Whenever Ferdibrand was with Elanor, Fastred was welcome to spend time with them, talking, eating, walking in the sunshine. There were other trips up on the moors, and Elanor and Rosie began to lose the pale, pinched look as their cheeks bloomed with colour once again. They regained their appetites, and they were beginning to sleep without the need for draughts.

Reginard was up, though not quite well enough to be "about". He sat on a bench in the front garden of the smials in the autumn sunshine, and Rose or Elanor often joined him there, along with Fastred or Leotred.

A message had come to the Thain from the King, that an army was marching down to the Sunlands, to try to regain the stolen hobbits.

'An army?' Reginard said thoughtfully. 'That must be quite a sight.'

'I just hope our people aren't trodden underfoot,' Pippin said seriously. He'd seen armies of Men before, after all, both of Gondor and of the Haradrim.

'What is your cousin Celandine like?' Reginard asked.

'Very resourceful, good head on her shoulders,' Pippin said. He chuckled. 'I remember one time...'

'What?' Reginard said.

'We were playing at "Bilbo and the Spiders" and wouldn't let her play... she got even with us, though.'

'How?' Regi asked curiously.

'Well, she tied the best knots of anyone we knew, so we asked her to tie up the dwarves, you know, like the spiders did...' Pippin shook his head.

'And...?' Regi asked, when he paused.

'She tied up all the lads but one, the one playing Bilbo, you know, with such hard knots that "Bilbo" couldn't get them loose again, and as the lads were all too young to have a knife between them, they stayed that way until well past teatime! Meanwhile, she went off to the Hall and sat, all prim and proper, at the tea table, and said "I don't know, they're all out playing somewhere" when asked where the lads had got to...' Pippin laughed and Regi chuckled cautiously.

'You shouldn't make me laugh,' he reproached.

Pippin was instantly solicitous. 'Are you all right?' he asked.

Regi was quiet for a moment, as if listening to his body. 'I think so,' he said at last, then sighed. 'Ent draught isn't exactly a miracle, is it?'

'O yes it is!' Pippin maintained stoutly. 'Without it, you wouldn't be sitting here now.'

'Yes, but when can I be getting back to the Great Smials?' Regi fretted. 'That babe is due any day now.'

'I should say the day you can laugh without discomfort is the day we can chance putting you into the coach,' Pippin said seriously. 'We wouldn't want to shake anything loose, after all.'

'I suppose you're right,' Regi said. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the afternoon sunshine, and soon was snoring lightly. The Thain watched him sleep for a time, then cautiously arose from the bench and went back to deal with the papers that had come from Tuckborough that morning, some of which had to do with his oldest son's journey to the Lonely Mountain. Was it now too dangerous, for Faramir to return to the Shire? The dwarves had offered a strong escort for the lad, but they wanted to cross the Misty Mountains before winter storms closed the passes... It was a decision that must be made quickly, and this at a time when Pippin did not feel inclined to make any sort of decision at all, without having more facts than were at his disposal.

***

King Elessar was meeting with his captains before beginning the day's march. 'We will reach the border of Haragost mid-morning,' he said, 'or at least, the border of the land the king of Haragost has annexed. I want you to pass the word to the troops. Caution, discipline: We shall not be the first to strike. A diplomatic solution may yet be possible.'

Thinking of the wounded messenger, Imrahil shook his head, but said nothing when Elessar caught his eye with an inquiring look.

'We know that the Halflings were seen at court,' Elessar continued. 'They are alive, and apparently being well-cared-for. We must go carefully, not antagonise the Lion into rash action.'

'If we can find a way for him to save face,' Imrahil said, 'that would be the ideal. Honour and appearances are very important to these people.'

'Yes,' Elessar nodded. 'I have advisors who are working on that.' They would suggest a course of action, appropriate words to be spoken when the army reached the lands of Haragost. 'We will be going very carefully, indeed.' ...if one could say that, of an army the size he was bringing. It was a bit hard to walk on eggs with several thousand mail-clad warriors following in your footsteps.

***

'Majesty,' the Lion's general said urgently. 'The situation is more urgent than we thought. That was not an isolated messenger, sent from Gondor, but the vanguard of a mighty army prepared for battle.'

'A mighty army?' the Lion said softly. 'Do we have numbers?'

'Thousands,' the general said soberly. 'All marching in good order and well-armed. They shall reach our borders sometime today.'

'Well, we must prepare to greet our guests, then,' the Lion said genially. 'We shall prepare a feast for this so-called king and his captains, explain to them that they have no business in our land, and that we have not seen these "Pheriannath" they are looking for, but we will keep our eyes and ears open, and let them know should any word of their missing fellows be brought to our attention.'

'Very good, Sire,' the general said, bowing.

'It must be a very special feast,' the Lion continued. 'For this Gondorian is an extraordinary fellow, marched against the Dark Lord, I hear, though my father was wise enough to stay out of that battle, I am glad to say.' He'd still been licking his wounds after the failed assault on Minas Tirith, but of course that didn't bear mentioning.

'I think we must serve something out of the ordinary for these very special guests,' he continued. Clapping his hands sharply, he summoned his chancellor and gave detailed instructions for the feast.

***

The early-morning hours were pleasantly cool; it was a good time for the little ones to play out-of-doors, in one of the sheltered courtyards, to breathe the fresh air before the heat of the day arrived. The little mother sat on the low wall of a fountain while her littlest dabbled their feet in the water. The older ones were playing some sort of catch-me-if-you-can game, and Jessamin and Bessime could not help laughing at their droll expressions, even in the midst of their serious conversation.

Jessamin said as persuasively as she could, 'Bessime, I know that Ha'anas has sent you presents; couldn't you slip a note to him, ask you to meet him here?'

'And why would I want to do that? He's homely!' Bessime protested. 'I do not want to encourage him.'

'Perhaps he has a brave heart,' Jessamin said. 'And have you seen his eyes? They are the eyes of a...'

'A doe!' Bessime said in disgust. 'Large and soulful, they plead but have no spirit.'

'Large and soulful,' Jessamin sighed.

'Why don't you slip him a note, if you're so enamored of him all of a sudden.'

'Bessime,' Jessamin said in exasperation, 'Please. I want him to meet the little creatures. They seemed to understand some of the words that passed between him and that Gondorian. Perhaps he can be of help to us in their training.'

'I hadn't thought of that...' Bessime mused, then brightened. 'Why didn't you say so in the first place?'

When the interpreter arrived, peering with interest at the little creatures, Jessamin approached the guard, saying, 'Could you please order us a meal? The littlest ones are starting to whine; perhaps they are hungry.'

Ha'asad nodded and left the courtyard; Jessamin sighed in relief. They had a few precious moments, no more. The other guard, Ha'aran, was a friend of hers, one who'd pressed her often enough to put on the marriage bracelets, though she was not quite ready to retire from her position as animal keeper... He'd been called away on an errand, and for the moment they were free of guards and their listening ears.

'Speak to them as you spoke to the Gondorian,' she said.

'But they are animals!' he protested.

'I am just curious. Perhaps they come from Gondor, originally. If they respond to that speech, you might teach us a few words to help in their training.'

'All right,' Ha'anas said. 'But I feel awfully silly.'

'Would a moonlight stroll help you feel less awkward?' Bessime said playfully.

'Tonight?' he asked. She smiled and nodded. Jessamin would owe her much for this day's work.

At that moment, Ha'aran came back. 'So much for the prince's collection,' he said morosely. 'It is back to standing watches on the walls for us.'

'What do you mean?' Jessamin gasped.

'The king has ordered a special feast,' he said, 'and he has decided to sacrifice the prince's collection to honour the distinguished guests.' He sighed. 'I was becoming rather fond of these little creatures,' he said. 'Well, might as well take care of matters out here on the stones. A few buckets of water will wash away the blood.'

'Ha'aran, no!' Jessamin protested as he reached out for the nearest. Celandine gasped as the huge guard grabbed her little Berilas by the hair, lifting him into the air, drawing his scimitar.

'O Maker,' he intoned, for animals were given to Man for his protection and use, and must be slain only as the Law dictated, 'You who have given us these creatures, grant now the life of this one for the sustenance of our bodies...'

Celandine stumbled forward, shouting, 'T's'ala!' It was the Big Folks' word for "stop", the strongest word she knew in their language.

The Big Folk all froze, and Ha'aran lowered his blade, though he continued to hold the squirming hobbit lad aloft. The only sound, for the space of a breath or two, was the tinkling of the fountain. 'It is a parrot,' he said at last, raising the blade again. 'No more than that. It is simply mouthing a noise it has heard repeated many times.'

'Wait!' Jessamin said desperately. 'Put him down, wait a moment, Ha'aran, please...'

'The king has ordered...' Ha'aran began.

'Please...' Bessime broke in.

'I am to bring their carcases to the kitchens,' he said, 'I dare not linger.'

'Let us try to talk to them,' Jessamin said in her most persuasive tone.

'Talk to them? Why?' he said. 'They are animals, about to be served at the king's table. Why waste your breath reassuring them? I will give them a quick death, I promise.'

'Just one moment,' Jessamin said. She licked her lips, trying to turn the gesture from sheer nervous reaction to seduction. This was, after all, Ha'aran, who wished to marry her...

'A moment, then,' Ha'aran said. 'I know you have grown fond of them. You may have a moment to take your leave.'

Jessamin nodded, then turned to the interpreter. 'Ha'anas, please? Remember what we were speaking about, a moment ago.'

The interpreter looked nervously at her, and then the guard, but nodded and crouched to look the little mother in the eye. 'I bring you greetings,' he said. The little creature jabbered back at him, and his eyes widened. He fell backwards in his surprise.

'What is it?' Jessamin asked, helping him up, while Ha'aran started forward. She waved him back with an urgent look. You see nothing, you hear nothing... He nodded, and stepped back, face once again blank, though he did not release the squirming youngster.

'It... it spoke!' Ha'anas said in wonder.

'Ask it if it knows what "Pheriannath" means,' Jessamin said. The question was asked, and the creature jabbered again, the little ones jumping up excitedly to chime in.

The interpreter turned to her with a terrible expression. 'It said...' he faltered.

'What?' Bessime said impatiently.

'It said, that it is a Pheriannath, a subject of the King of Gondor, one of the "Little People" of his kingdom.' He swallowed hard, thinking of their narrow escape. 'They are not animals at all!'

Ha'aran dropped Berilas as if the curly hair stung his fingers. 'Not animals!' he said. 'Then it is forbidden by the Law to kill and eat them.' He looked as if he were about to lose his last meal, and Bessime had a hand to her mouth as well.

'Good,' Jessamin said. 'I'm glad that we found out in time.'

'But the king has ordered their deaths,' Ha'aran said, troubled. He fingered his blade. 'By the Law they cannot be killed with steel...'

Celandine started to relax, only to hear him continue, 'as slaves, they must die under the rod. I would rather give them a quick ending than see them beaten to death.'

Jessamin spoke quickly; she did not know when the other guard would return. Perhaps he had stopped in the kitchen to refresh himself, but in any event, there was no time to waste.

'Ha'aran,' she said, 'I have ten goats in my dowry, as you very well know.' She looked up at him through half lowered lids, for she knew her long eyelashes were very attractive.

'What does that have to do with this?' he asked in irritation.

'Take the goats, kill them, skin them and deliver them to the kitchens with the rest of the prince's collection,' she said. 'Leave the Pher... Pheri...' she stumbled over the word, and continued, 'the little ones to me.'

'What are you going to do with them?' he demanded.

'It is better that you do not know,' she said. 'But take the goats.' She batted her eyelashes at him. 'Don't you know what I am saying?'

'I...' he said, distracted.

'You can talk about your wedding plans later,' Bessime broke in, taking his arm and pushing him towards the door. 'And you, Ha'anas, perhaps when we take our moonlight stroll this night we can make some plans of our own...' She escorted them out of the room, and Jessamin bent to the little ones... she could no longer call them "creatures", after all.

'Do you understand what I am saying?' she asked slowly.

The little mother nodded, her arms still wrapped tightly around Berilas.

'Then come with me,' Jessamin said. 'Come at once. Quickly.' She led them from the courtyard, through a maze of passages, to a room filled with baskets and piles of bright silks and cottons.

'In,' she ordered, gesturing to the baskets. 'I do you no harm,' she said, when the little mother hesitated. 'In! Quickly!'

Celandine made a quick decision to trust this Big Person, who had offered them only kindness in their time here. 'Into the baskets, children,' she said, and they complied, three hobbits in each basket, a big one taking two little ones in hand.

Jessamin helped lift the littlest ones in. Staring intently at the hobbits, she said, 'Not a word.' She had to make them understand. Putting a finger to her lips, she made the shushing sound she'd heard the little mother make. 'Quiet! Your lives, and mine, depend upon it.'

The little mother nodded, and turning to her little ones said, 'Let us play the mouse game! Do you remember the part where the mice were hiding from the cat?' Jessamin could not understand, of course, but she was reassured to see the little ones duck down in the baskets. Working swiftly, she threw piles of fabric over the tops. Before covering the little mother, she said, 'Wait. No sound. Wait.'

To her surprise, the little one answered Jessamin in the language of Haragost. 'As long as it takes,' Celandine said. 'Thank you.'

Jessamin impatiently dashed away a tear and gave the little mother a last hug. 'I will not forget you,' she said.

'Go with grace,' Celandine answered, again in Jessamin's language, and Jessamin nodded.

'May you go in grace, and find safety,' she answered, and then she covered the little mother, Blossom, and Poppy under layers of dirty cotton fabric.

It was stuffy and smelly in the baskets, but the little hobbits were playing the mouse game, and when the cat is near, the mice make no sound or complaint, no matter how uncomfortable the hiding place might be. After all, if the cat did not find them, they would win the game...

***

Author's Note: The story of Celandine and the lads is told in full in "Spiderwebs" here on SoA.

***

Notes from original posting:

Note to Readers:

I am on vacation for a week, and while I have written well ahead in both "Merlin" and "Flames", I might not be able to post daily again until after next weekend (say, the 7th of July). However, if I am able to sneak online at all, I will keep posting chapters... Hey, you all keep reviewing, okay? Wouldn't want you to get out of the habit... Those lovely reviews, they keep the Muse happy, along with her pina coladas, and she keeps throwing ideas at me, so it works out for everyone.

"The Law" as used in this story is not meant to resemble any modern system of belief. In other words, I made it up, after thinking about how a society of proud warriors not recognising the beliefs of Numenor might be ordered.

Thank you for the comments! I am storing them away to look at on Monday, when I will commence writing again.

Though there are a few more chapters already written, and a whole outline stretching out before me, I do not know when (before Monday) I will be able to update again. So, we'll see you Monday, if not before. Sorry to leave you with such a cliffhanger. I do believe Ferdi's doing better over in "Flames", at the moment (we are in between outbursts of angst in that story), if you want more cheerful fare.

I have added a new chapter to "Flames" as well, in case you are following that story.