Chapter 10 – A Moonlit Stroll

Edon spent most of the day at the Hall, hearing all the latest news and gossip as it rippled through the tunnels. It was not long before everyone discovered that Gil had gone with the searchers, having taken the blame to himself for Frodo’s actions. This ate away at Edon, who now wished he hadn’t listened to his friends and had put in more of an effort to go with the search team. Now it truly was too late and he would have to wait with everyone else for the outcome of the search.

He left Brandy Hall soon after dinner but he did not return home. He had too much on his mind and needed time to sort out his thoughts. He wandered aimlessly at first but eventually wound up in Bucklebury, strolling through the marketplace and the many rows of little shops and its lively inn. Only the inn remained opened at this late hour but there were still some last-minute shoppers straggling out of dimly-lit shops. No one paid him much mind, for which he was grateful; the less distractions he had the better. Yet after circling the marketplace for the eighth time, he was no closer to clearing his mind of its cobwebs.

He came to a small wooden table set out for shoppers to sit and rest, and he sat upon the tabletop, his feet on the seat, and looked out toward the east and the unseen forest that loomed there. He picked up a stray bit of wood block that a craftsman had no doubt forgotten there and he turned it about in his hand, vague images coming to his mind's eye of the many different things the block could be shaped into. But these images always somehow brought him back to the forest, and eventually he looked out toward the east and the unseen forest that loomed there.

Twilight darkened into night and the stars shone brilliantly above in silent, shimmering radiance. A cool breeze swept across his face, a welcome comfort from the balmy night air. Edon looked up at the stars, so bright in the pitch black sky, the wood block forgotten in his hand, and sought an answer for his troubles.

What if Frodo wasn’t found? That was first and foremost in his mind. Gil had accepted the blame as his own, but it would only be a matter of time before himself and Sed, and Fendi and Morti, were blamed for their part in this. Already, Edon could see the looks of disapproval from the Brandybucks and the disappointment and shame from his parents. Fendi and Morti were relatively safe in all this, being part of the family. They would be punished, but not scorned. Edon and Sed however…

Their father had only recently secured his foothold here and it had not been easily won. To start, their father was a Breelander, who had journeyed here one day with only the purpose of trading for pipeweed in the Southfarthing. There he had met a lovely lass, who was herself visiting from the Northfarthing and was staying with some cousins. He had dropped everything to follow her back to Branbourne, and her father had given him a job as a groundskeeper at his vineyard. He learned his job quickly and the old farmer, impressed with his diligence, allowed him to marry his daughter and take her status as his own. When he heard that Old Hopsfroam passed away without a wife or heir, he had placed a bid on the small Buckland vineyard and kept bidding until all the other bidders gave up.

That he’d had enough money to buy the vineyard already established him as a worthy hobbit, but the Bucklanders still hadn’t known what to make of him, what with his Breeland ways and his humble-looking family. Hobbits were more laid back in Branbourne, gentry and common folk dressing alike and speaking as informal as you please, and these traits made it difficult for the Bucklanders to decide where to place them on the status scale.

For their first couple of years here, they had lived in a sort of limbo, being neither common folk nor gentry, and they had suddenly found themselves needing lessons on gentry decorum. Their father at least was of the mind that they belonged in the more affluent circles of society, and once they began to act the part – and after their father’s wine proved to be among the best – the Bucklanders had agreed.

Now, Edon had jeopardized all that his father had worked for. He had taken the Master’s youngest nephew to the Old Forest, and left him there. If Frodo was not found, or was found dead, it would not take long before the hobbits of Brandy Hall turned the blame onto Edon and Sed, and eventually their father, for not raising his children better.

There had to be a way to prevent this from harming his father, but he didn’t know what that might be. He couldn’t begin to guess, still becoming used to the subtleties of gentry politics even after all these years. He needed an objective point of view, from someone whose job it was to make the gentry happy. So he sat and he waited.

He had not intended to sit himself in front of the quilt shop where Piper Redleaf worked, but now that he was there he realized that he had been circling in front of the little shop all evening, more than any of the others.

While Fuchsia had been the first of the gentry to befriend him, Piper had been the first of the working class to approach him after his family’s move here. She had seen his uncertainty and shy eagerness, and had gladly taken him under her wing, teaching him all he needed to know about living in Buckland, more so than anyone else. 

After his family’s rise in status, she had respectfully distanced herself, but she would still stop to speak with him from time to time if they happened to pass each other on the road, and if they both happened to be alone. Edon was not certain if Frodo was correct in his observation about Piper being sweet on him, but one thing was certain: Piper would listen and give him the advice he needed. He just hoped he hadn’t missed her.

He need not have feared. Within a half-hour, a door opened and closed and the sound of keys in a lock jangled into the night. Then soft footsteps approached him. “Edon?” came the high, clear voice. “Did ‘ee get yerself lost, or have ‘ee been dancing ‘bout me shop the last hour a purpose?”

“A little of both actually,” Edon said, turning to face her. “I’m more than a bit lost and I was hoping I could speak with you, if you’re able.” He was careful not to slip into his country brogue with her, which he was always tempted to do when in her presence, but fearing she might take it as an insult he held back.

Piper considered him evenly and wavered for the briefest of moments. Then she nodded curtly and said, “If I’m able, I’ll help ‘ee find yer way. Will ‘ee be needing someone to walk ‘ee home then?” And she smiled teasingly.

Edon laughed. “I wouldn’t say no to the company,” he said and slipped off the table to stand before her, discreetly placing the wood block back where he had found it. “But it would be more proper for me to walk you home. Shall we?” He offered his arm and after a moment’s hesitation, she accepted.

“Only if ‘ee promise to be the perfect gentlehobbit, Master Edon,” she teased.

“I will, so long as you promise not to call me that again,” Edon said, and with that he set them a leisurely pace.

They walked slowly, neither of them in much of a hurry. Piper never seemed to bother with the rush and bustle that so many other hobbits here got swept into, and Edon needed as much time as he could get to sort out how exactly to broach the subject of Frodo’s disappearance. As should have been expected, he needn’t have bothered.

“So, what’ve ‘ee lost, Edon?” Piper asked once they had left the marketplace behind. She looked up at Edon expectantly and waited patiently.

Edon studied her in profile. He felt a bit awkward coming to her after what Frodo had said and he couldn’t help but wonder if the lad might have been right in his assumptions. He found himself paying more attention to Piper’s unspoken language: the way she carried herself, carefree and jovial; the tone of her voice, kind and considerate; the expression in her eyes, caring and attentive. He could determine nothing from her behavior that might suggest a fancy, but he had learned enough by now to know that she could very well be hiding it, for propriety’s sake.

He glanced at her quickly under the moonlight and saw nothing there but friendly regard. He had to admit that she was a pretty lass, though she had none of the classic beauty and grace that Fuchsia Brownlock possessed. Piper was as common as they came, with sweet and comely good-looks, her honey-colored hair the only feature to set her apart from the rest.

“Edon?” she prompted after a time, and Edon shook himself back into the present moment.

“Have you heard about the Master’s nephew?” he asked.

“Oh, isn’t it just awful, in the Old Forest all this time. Word came into town ‘round ‘bout luncheon,” Piper exclaimed sympathetically. “That poor child out there all alone. I do hope they find ‘im.”

Edon nodded. “Aye, tis why I came to speak wit’ you,” he said, allowing a bit of his rough and common accent to slip out anyway, to see how she would react. “I was there with him as you might recall. I took Frodo there, to the Gate Opening.”

“I remember. He’s a mite young to’ve gone, ain’t he?” Piper asked, taking no notice to the change in his intonation.

“Just a teen,” Edon confirmed. “He wanted to go though.”

“Well, ‘tis naught ‘ee could’ve done ‘bout it then,” Piper said reasonably. “If he wanted to go, he’d a gone whether ‘ee be there or no.”

Edon shook his head. “I don’t think so. We met up with him at Hedge Field and he was only going to wait there for his guardian. It wasn’t until after Sed made a joke to him about the Old Forest that he voiced a wish to go there. Even then he seemed nervous about it all. I told him he didn’t have to go, but he insisted so I let him come.”

“As I said, he’d a gone on his own then.”

“But that was only after what Sed said. I’m positive he wouldn’t have gone otherwise,” Edon insisted.

“I thought he’d gone a cause of summat that Mr. Madagilus lad said to ‘im,” Piper stated.

“Gil might think so. He said Frodo was a coward and that he had no friends close enough to go into the Old Forest after.”

“How awful!”

“Yes, but he only said it because I was there.”

Now Piper shook her head but she made no comment. Still, her thoughts couldn’t be plainer. She was as tired of the feud as everyone else was.

“I can’t help but feel responsible,” Edon went on. “Frodo would not have been there to be taunted by Gil and he wouldn’t have been at the Gate Opening if I had not taken him along. Frodo was too young to be at the Gate and I knew it, yet I took him along anyway.”

“Because he wanted to go,” Piper filled in.

“Well, yes, but that isn’t the point. If he’d wanted to climb to the top of the highest tree, should I have taken him there to do so? No, of course not. And I shouldn’t have taken him to the Gate. I should have insisted that he stay away. I should have kept a better eye on him. What chance is there they won’t turn us away for this?”

Piper squeezed his arm supportively then. “‘Tisn’t yer fault, Edon. Master Frodo slipped past everyone’s eye, including all the bounders, both Inside and Outside. We’re all to be faulted in that regard, so far as I’m concerned.”

Edon paused to consider this. He had never thought of that before, that there had been more eyes than just his that should have noticed Frodo’s run on the Gate. Not that it relieved his guilt very much, but it did ease his worry.

“So, if Frodo is not found, you don’t think that will come back on us?” he asked again. He stopped walking so he could give his full attention to the lass’s response. “I’m afraid they’ll turn the blame from Gil to me, and eventually to my father, for not having raised me no better.”

Piper fell into silence and for many moments she kept her thoughts to herself. Finally she shook her head and shrugged. “Tis no accounting for Brandybucks, as they say, but they’re sensible enough. They’ll see the right o’ it. ’Ee took Frodo there, which might not have been wise, but as he wanted to go, ‘ee certainly didn’t force ‘im. And ‘ee most certainly didn’t make ‘im enter the Forest. I don’t even think Mr. Madagilus can be accounted for this too much. But me opinion’s not the one as matters. If you’re really worried about this, why don’t ‘ee go to the Mistress?”

“I already spoke with Mistress Esmeralda this morning, before all this had got out. She was not pleased with me in the slightest.”

“But did she blame ‘ee?” Piper said.

“I’m fairly certain she does. She wanted to hear our side of it, Gil’s and mine. She wanted to know what we had done to upset Frodo so much that he’d take off.”

“Then ‘ee’ll have to talk to her again, the way I see it. Tell her yer afeard of what might come to you and yours. She’ll understand, is my wager, and it’ll be none so bad as you’re a fearing.”

“What are others saying?” Edon asked next. “In town? Have you heard anything?”

Piper laughed. “I hear so much chin-wagging in a day, I’m amazed I don’t go home with me head a spinning. But folk seem to be pretty much agreed on who’s to blame in this, and that’d be young Master Frodo himself. He’s always running off as ‘ee know, disappearing for days at a time, no matter what his guardians attempt to do on the matter.”

Edon shook his head sadly at this. “Doesn’t anyone care that he could very well die?”

“Of course they do!” Piper exclaimed. “‘Tisn’t what they mean, Edon. They only mean that he’s a tragic soul and not much more can be expected for him. It’s sad and dismal, but it’s true enough. He had a tragic start in life, and he’ll have a tragic end. No one likes it, but that’s just how it goes. You’re not to blame for that.”

“I know,” Edon said, remembering everything he had heard over the years of the death of the Master’s youngest sister and her husband. “It just doesn’t seem fair to him. Why should he have to suffer so?”

“Well, he’s not gone yet,” Piper said. “He’ll be found most like, and go on to live a full and happy life and prove everyone wrong, no doubt. Just ‘ee wait and see. He’ll be luckier than us all.”

“Thank ‘ee, Piper,” Edon said. “For everything. You’re truly a good friend.”

“I do what I can,” Piper said and smiled up at him. They continued the rest of the way in silence and at last they came to her home. They stopped at the walk path leading up to her house, where a candle was burning in the windowsill. At the next window over, a curtain fluttered closed. “They’re waiting for me; I’m late.”

“I’ll let you go then. We’ll have to spend more time together. I miss you, Piper,” Edon said.

Piper smiled, sweet but a bit sad. “Oh, ‘ee’ve not missed me none, not wit’ that Miss Brownlock to turn yer head. She’s a proper lass, she is.”

“Well, I’ve never denied my tendency towards foolishness,” Edon said, “and foolish I am, for letting our friendship grow so stale. You’re the most proper lass I know, and you’ve a good lead on any lass from Brandy Hall, if you want my opinion.” 

Piper hummed happily for just a moment then shook her head. “But ‘ee’re an important hobbit now. ‘Ee’ve not the time to be spending on a lass like me.”

“I’ll be the one who decides who I’ll be spending my time with,” Edon said and lifted Piper’s hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “I’ll gladly escort you home anytime you need.” He let go her hand then and watched after her as she made her way up the walk path and to the door.

“I work ev’ry night ‘cept Highday,” she called back. “’Ee know what time to be fetching me, seemingly, but I’ll not expect ‘ee if ‘ee can’t make it.”

“I’ll make it, every night except Highday,” he promised and was rewarded with a shy smile.

“Good night, Edon,” she said. “Or, Master Edon, as I should say.”

“Don’t you dare,” Edon said, a smile now also on his lips. “Tomorrow then.” Then he bowed and turned to continue on his way.  

Frodo had not been able to find any more berries, and the burst of energy he’d had after his small meal quickly wore off. If possible, the day seemed even hotter than previous days. He was becoming dehydrated and had been required to sit and rest at many points during the day to keep from passing out again. He did not want to go back to sleep, dreading the dreams and memories that would come with it. He could feel them there, waiting for him to slip into oblivion to taunt him once more. He tried everything he could to keep himself awake, yet found himself jerking out of a light doze each time he sat down to rest.

Finally, he gave up. He could not fight the sleep any longer. He wasn’t even sure anymore why he bothered. It would be so simple to just lie down and never get up again. Surely, that was what would happen soon enough. The longer he remained out here, the closer he came to his resting place. Maybe then, he could be with his parents again. Maybe then, he could apologize for not having bade them good night and for doing whatever else he had done to make them go away. Maybe then, they would forgive him and they could all be happy and together again. That wouldn’t be so bad. Would it?

He slumped to the ground against a bole, no longer caring that the trees were dangerous. He let his head droop, let his eyelids close, let the world go black. Maybe this time, he would stay asleep and the dreams would not come to plague him and he could finally be at peace. He nodded off to sleep, a lone tear slipping down his cheek.
 
 
 

To be continued…