Chapter 27. Now Goes the Year to its End

Yuletide at the Great Smials was a merry time. Every night there was a large fire on the enormous hearth in the great room. The tables were cleared away after late supper and musicians played for the dancers until the wee hours. When the musicians tired, or stopped to eat, the storytelling took place.

By far the most popular stories seemed to be those from the Red Book, but there were other stories as well, for the Tooks had a long tradition of storytelling. There were always enthusiastic cheers when the Thain could be persuaded to sit and tell one of his "Elf and Dwarf" stories, and sometimes the Mayor could be pressed into a story of his own.

Fastred sat, and listened, and learned each night.

Of course, the Mayor's family attended the fireside celebrations as well. Frodo and Merry Gamgee danced most of the dances with Rosie-lass and Elanor, when the older hobbits were occupied. However, at least once, Ferdi steered Elanor over to Fastred, asking, 'Can you stand in for me, this once, lad? I don't see any sign of Nell's brothers, and I find myself in need of refreshment.' He made a great show of mopping at his brow with a handkerchief, though it hardly seemed worth the effort.

Of course, Fastred could not refuse such a commission, and he found he enjoyed doing his duty very much, even if he were merely holding one end of a handkerchief, while Elanor held the other end, as they went through the intricacies of the dance.

As the dance ended, he bowed, she made her courtesy, and he offered his arm. 'May I find you some refreshment?' he asked politely.

'Certainly,' she laughed. 'I'm famished!'

He tucked her hand securely in at his elbow and led her to one of the long tables laid out with food. Seeking her opinion, he artistically arranged a plate of food to please the eye, took up a cup, led her to a chair, and fanned her while she ate and drank.

'Where ever did you learn your manners?' she asked him, cocking a mischievous eye. 'You are every inch a gentlehobbit, though my brother Frodo insists you are practically a ruffian.'

'As a scion of one of the leading families of Greenholm, I was forced to endure dancing lessons, and instruction in deportment, and all sorts of other miseries,' he answered with a grin.

'You poor lamb,' Elanor said with a pretty pout.

'Ba-a-a-a-a,' Fastred replied.

'Were you born in a barn?' Ferdi said, coming up behind him. 'Forgive me, Nell, for foisting this back-country sheep on you.'

'His manners are improving with every day he spends at the Smials,' Elanor said with a wink to Fastred, which Ferdi pretended not to see, improper as it was for a young hobbit lass of good breeding.

'We shall have to keep him a good long time, then,' the chancellor said. He extended his hand, Elanor took it, and he led her into the next dance, while Fastred stood watching.

The Thain came up to him then, leading a hobbit lass who was evidently of age, for she'd been dancing with quite a few of the dashing young Tooks at the celebration. 'Phacelia,' he said, 'may I present Fastred of Greenholm?'

Phacelia smiled and held out a slender hand. 'I am pleased to make your acquaintance,' she said.

'At your service, and your family's,' Fastred replied, taking the fingers in his own. 'Would you care to dance, my lady?'

'I do happen to have this dance free,' she said coyly, and took his arm.

He led her into the dance, acquitting himself well as they danced and chatted of Tookland and Greenholm. He couldn't help imagining how it would feel to have Elanor's hand rest lightly on his arm, to place the palm of his hand against her back, to lead her through the figures, but of course, she was too young, yet, fated to dance with brothers or uncles or honorary uncles, even, not dashing young farmers from the border-land. It was small comfort that none of the eager Tooks was allowed to dance with her, either.

At one point they passed Leotred dancing with another grown-up lass, and the brothers exchanged wry smiles, each knowing what the other was thinking.

On Last Night, after the musicians retired for the night, the tweens and hobbits who had come of age but not yet married stayed up, talking of the year to come and their plans and dreams for the future, while roasting bacon and mushrooms on long sticks over the Yule log on the hearth. They talked and laughed and sang and ate until the dawn light came through the high windows, and the chancellor came into the room to shoo them off to their beds.

'Out with you now,' Ferdi scolded good-naturedly. 'You've seen the old year out of the Smials, and welcomed the new, and now it is time to set up the tables for breakfast for all the sensible folk who sought their beds when you were just starting your talking and singing. Out!'

Fastred had not heard much of what was said through the long hours, nor contributed much to the conversation. He was too busy watching a pair of fine eyes, that for some reason often turned to meet his own.

***

While the Dove plied the open seas, most of her passengers stayed in their bunks in misery as the ship danced from wave to towering wave, though there were a few exceptions. Legolas the Wood Elf was often found high in the rigging, breathing the salt air, helping the sailors set sails, or furl them, as ordered.

Imrahil, coming of sea folk as he did, was not bothered by the motion of the ship, nor was his kinsman Elessar. The King of Haragost was quieter than usual for a few days, but then gained his sea legs and often walked the deck in the company of King Elessar, talking and learning.

Gimli the dwarf never left his bunk, nor did the hobbits. Celandine, in her misery, wished that they might have made the long journey overland, however long it would have taken. She worried, too, about the children, who could hardly eat, though the sailors coaxed them and cosseted them and plied them with simple foods most likely to stay with them.

One morning she awakened from nightmare to find the ship wondrously still, and she arose from her bunk to find a grinning Gimli, holding pitcher and basin, towel draped over one arm. 'Are we home?' she asked hopefully.

'Nay, lass, but we've entered the mouth of the Baranduin River, and the Sea can no longer toss us like a cat with a mouse,' the dwarf boomed cheerily. ' 'Twill be a smooth ride from here.'

Setting down the basin, he poured some of the water from the pitcher, then held out the towel to the hobbit mum. 'Splash your face, you'll feel better,' he said.

She washed her face and arms and dried herself, ran a comb through her curls and pinned them up, then looked up at him beaming.

'I feel a whole new hobbit!' she said.

'Funny, you look just as pretty as ever,' the dwarf rumbled. 'Got a surprise for you.'

'What's that?' Celandine asked.

'The sailors know how to ply a needle,' the dwarf said, 'and if you go on deck, those fancy silks won't keep out the chill. They've cut up some blankets and made you all cloaks to wrap up in.' He held one out, and Celandine took it slowly, running her fingers over the thick, soft wool.

'Here,' the dwarf said, taking it from her and settling it on her shoulders. 'Now you're ready to take the air.'

'It's wonderful,' she said, 'better than any I've ever had, even in the Shire.'

'I do believe they borrowed the blankets off the King's bed,' Gimli muttered behind a secretive hand, 'but don't tell anyone that I told you that. You need something good and thick, after living in the Southlands,' he went on, 'and those silken clothes will be all but useless, the further to the North that we sail.' He sniffed, then said, 'Would you care to take the air?'

'I'd be happy to... but what about the children?' she said, looking around. The two bunks that had held her family, four hobbits in one and five in the other, were empty. Perhaps that was the root of her nightmare, sleeping alone in the large bed, her children mysteriously vanished.

'Don't you worry about them, they're eating breakfast as we speak, and then they'll get cloaks of their own and take a turn on deck,' the dwarf said.

'We're all becoming terribly spoilt, myself not excluded,' Celandine said with a smile.

Gimli snorted. 'I highly doubt that,' he said loftily. 'A spoilt hobbit? I cannot imagine such a thing.'

He held out his arm, and Celandine took it, and was happy to be escorted onto the deck, into the fresh air and sunshine. To one side, she could see the bank of the great River, and looking down through the railings, she knew she looked at waters that had flowed past her home not so many days ago.

***

'Which New Year, do you think?' Berilac said, as they sat in the Master's study. 'Ours? or theirs?'

'It will take the ship some time to sail all the way from the Sunlands,' Merry said slowly. He pulled out a map, and he and Berilac bent over it, to trace the ship's journey from Haragost, across the Sea, to the mouth of the Brandywine, and all the way upriver.

'Last Day is upon us; tomorrow will be First Day,' Merry said thoughtfully. 'I'd say closer to their New Year, but there's no way of telling.'

'So they'll just show up on the doorstep, like homeless kittens in a basket?' Berilac said.

Merry shook his head. 'I do not think so.'

'What do you think, then?' his steward said.

'I think that when they reach Sarn, the King will dispatch a messenger, up the Old South Road, as swift as can be. Riding hard, changing horses at every outpost, he'd be faster than any ship, and would give us some warning.'

'Well, no need to wait upon the messenger,' Berilac said, stroking his chin with a thoughtful hand. 'I do think we ought to begin preparations for the celebration today, even.'

Merry laughed, though there was still an ache deep inside, when he allowed himself to remember that they were welcoming three, not nine, home again.

'Then you had better get right on it,' he said. 'We don't want to be caught napping.'