Chapter 11, The Severed Branch of the Family Tree

It took a little while, but the confusion over the whereabouts of the wedding certificate was soon settled. The family at large sat down to second breakfast in the dining room, however, the younger lads took their plates to sit with Pippin in his bedroom and keep him company.

Pippin’s eyes became large when his friends entered with their plates heaping with eggs, bacon, mushrooms, and fried potatoes. Well, the bacon did smell delicious, but Pippin’s tummy didn’t quite crave it yet.

“What’s the matter, Pip?” asked Merry teasingly, “Would it be that my eggs are much more appealing than your scones and jam?”

“Scones and jam are fine,” answered Pippin defiantly, though his belly rumbled audibly. He knew his friends were about to have a jest with him.

“Or perhaps my mushrooms stuffed with cheese, melted and oozing with deliciousness?” Frodo goaded his youngest cousin by raising a forked mushroom then ate it.

Pippin licked his lips.

“I do believe that we ought to guard our plates, lads!” laughed Fredegar. “In his hungry state, Pippin is likely to jump out from under his blankets and attack our food.”

The lads all looked at Degger to see if the teen would put in his twopence. However, they really were not surprised to see teen-ager well underway eating his fried potatoes. In the final stage of his last growth spurt, Degger was seriously engaged in eating his breakfast.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Pippin asked sullenly, speaking round a mouthful of food. He folded his arms across his chest giving his most doleful expression.

Degger abruptly stopped eating as if suddenly aware of his surroundings. It didn’t take long for Degger to notice the cheerless expression on his young companion. Without a word, the lad got up to spoon a few potatoes onto Pippin’s plate beside the last scone.

“Degger!” Merry snickered. “You fell for Pippin’s ‘guilt’ face, didn’t you?” He sighed audibly with feigned disgust, “Oh, very well!”

Each in turn, the lads did likewise in giving Pippin something off of their plate. Pippin kindly turned down Freddie’s bacon, but he happily accepted Degger’s potatoes, a bit of Merry’s eggs, and a few of Frodo’s mushrooms.

“I’m feeling much better, thank you!” Pippin said with a broad smile, then ate a forkful of eggs. “Perhaps a wee bit of your apple juice, Freddie, in place of your offer of bacon.”

Fredegar gladly complied, then the conversation turned to more recent events.

“Papa wants to talk to us after breakfast,” said Pippin. “I suppose it has something to do with that marriage certificate I found on my night table this morning.”

Frodo and Merry looked at one another and winced. They had hoped that Pippin wouldn’t mention the certificate. Obviously, Pippin knew it for the mystery that it was and his comment was his way of seeking out any forthcoming information.

“What marriage certificate would that be, Pip?” laughed Freddie, unaware of the real news. “Frodo and Donnabelle’s?” He smirked, giving Frodo a conspiratorial wink, “I had heard how you and she danced the night away at Reggie’s Coming-of-Age party.”

“We did no such thing, Fredegar Bolger,” Frodo shot back, “and you’ll know what’s good for you if you don’t keep quiet. Or shall I mention a certain lass named Calendula Brownlock of Whitfurrows?”

Freddie blushed crimson, nervously clearing his throat before quietly resuming his breakfast.

Merry grinned mischievously at Fredegar. “And all this time you were teasing me, when I should have been teasing you!”

The topic of lass-friends didn’t deter the young Took’s curiosity. “I learnt earlier that you are not the only ‘Frodo’, cousin,” said Pippin, putting the conversation back on course.

Frodo sighed; it seemed Pippin would not be put off. Frodo knew exactly what Paladin wanted to discuss and did not wish to disclose anything beforehand that might upset anyone. He replied rather diplomatically, “I don’t think that any of our names are safe as our own, Pippin. I’ll wager that ‘Peregrin’ has seen a few turns around the Shire. Let’s not dwell on such things at breakfast, shall we?”

Everyone turned to the food at hand and made short work of what was left on their plates. Pippin, still weak from his bout with a fever and tummy full and comfortable from breakfast, soon nodded off to sleep.

A short while later, Frodo stood knocking upon the door of Paladin’s study.

“Come in,” Paladin called from across the room.

Hands in his pockets, Frodo casually walked inside the room, taking in the smell of leather, the rich decor of the Thain’s office. He had never been inside it before now. There were grand paintings that hung upon the walls illustrating the Tookland countryside, one of a hobbit closely resembling Ferumbras riding a pony over a bridleway in an unfamiliar meadow, another painting of a smiling Ferumbras standing in rough, tall grasses while wearing Golf attire and leaning upon his club, and finally, a large portrait of Ferumbras himself over the mantelpiece. Frodo shook his head at the elder cousin’s choice of art.

“Hullo, Paladin,” Frodo addressed the dark haired hobbit sitting behind the desk.

Paladin looked up from his reading and smiled. “Hullo, yourself. I take it that Pippin has fallen asleep?”

“You’ve guessed correctly,” answered Frodo, stopping at the chairs set in front of the immense desk made of well-polished walnut wood. “Having been through countless illnesses with Pip, you knew that he would be.”

“Aye,” admitted Paladin. “When his illness isn’t serious, such as this one, he is usually tired for a few days, but bounces back quickly enough. Have a seat, Frodo! I’m glad that you are here; we’ve hardly spent any significant time together since you arrived. I have a couple of tasks to do before I call our Took meeting to order--and Pippin usually naps for about an hour or so. Just enough time for me to accomplish my errands. Would you care to join me? I will give me a moment’s respite away from all of Ferumbras’ smiling faces.”

Frodo chuckled as the pair headed out of the Thain’s office to walk the distance toward the main kitchen.

“My first duties are to ensure today’s meals are run smoothly, look at the schedule for tomorrow’s meals and then go over the menu with Mr. Weaver, the overseer of the cooks and servers. He’ll tell me if anything important is amiss, such as a miscalculation of provisions or other unforeseen problems. I customarily take the short cut to his office through the kitchen to give it a brief inspection for cleanliness.”

Frodo nodded, admiring his cousin’s ingenuity. “You mentioned another task?”

“To decide this afternoon which male Took is to be Cousin Ferumbras’ first care giver for the next six months. I dare not make it longer, and three months is too short of time. If I did that, I would run the gamut of eligible Took males in less than six years.

“My first choices are Maynard, Cousin Fio’s son Liodrin, and Reggie. I will allow them to work out the choice of schedule they’d like, or else I can have them draw straws. I’d throw in the remaining names and more besides, but some are out on holiday with their families. It wouldn’t be fair to nominate those that are not present,” explained Paladin, “and for the same reason, it wouldn’t be fair for those spending Yule here at home to be elected overall before the others returned. However, as soon as the others come back, everyone is fair game.”

“I know for a fact that Reggie detests Cousin Ferumbras,” said Frodo, “But I also know that he will perform his duty regardless.”

“I know that as well,” said Paladin as they turned the corner of the tunnel.

Frodo knew that they would be approaching the kitchens soon, so he went forth with his thoughts on another matter. “Merry is right.”

“Pardon?” Paladin puzzled on his young cousin’s statement.

“Merry is right about the certificates mostly belonging to Isembold.”

“Ah.” Paladin now understood; the recollection of the lads’ wager coming to the forefront of his mind once again. “And how did you come to this conclusion?”

Frodo shrugged. “Merry thinks I know absolutely nothing about my Took ancestry--being a Baggins and all. Most of his Took knowledge comes from book-learning, and he forgets that Belladonna Took was Bilbo’s mother.”

Paladin smiled in understanding. “My father was rather quiet about family ‘business’, so to speak, but Uncle Isengar held nothing back. I suppose he and Aunt Belladonna were very indignant over Isembold’s plight--being pushed out of the family home.”

“And written out of Old Yellowskin,” added Frodo.

Paladin abruptly stopped his march toward the kitchen. He knew they were near to it as the clinking of pots and utensils emitted from another tunnel just ahead of them. He stopped here so that they could speak more freely and privately.

“So you know about Isembold and Betony putting the cart before the pony, eh?”

Frodo nodded, “I do. She was a kitchen servant no more than twenty-nine and he a well-bred gentlehobbit no more than thirty-two-and-a-half. I can’t remember exactly where they ended up after they were quietly swept out of the family tree, but I suspect we shall learn about that as we dig through the documents.”

“Little Delving,” answered Paladin.

Frodo nodded thoughtfully. “I understand that they were given a stipend every month,” he said.

“More so to keep them quiet,” Paladin replied. This bantering would be amusing if it wasn’t for the disgrace this long-ago young couple most likely endured.

“Yes, well any hobbit who knows his or her sums can calculate marriage dates against birth dates,” said Frodo.

“Not if it’s written over,” replied Paladin.

Both looked at one another with a gleam in their eyes.

“I’ll make this meeting quick if you run and gather the lads in my study,” said Paladin, exceedingly eager to start delving through the rich history that lay in heaps on the floor of his study. Paladin loved history--especially family history, and he knew Pippin did, too. “By the time I return,” he added, “hopefully Pippin will be awake.”

* * *

“Pippin’s been up and is now back to sleep,” announced Merry as his uncle walked through the study door. His young cousin lay curled on the couch beside him, eyes closed, and buried in blankets.

“I’m awake,” said a muffled voice, throwing off the blankets.

“I’m sorry, lads,” said Paladin, unbuttoning his jacket, “Mr. Weaver wanted to discuss the provisions for the Smials Yule party and I couldn’t argue against it because it’s not far off. Get back under the covers, Pippin, or to bed you shall go. What is that you have in your hands?”

“Nothing.”

“Let’s see what sort of nothing you have,” said Paladin. He reached down toward his son and took the bits of paper. Seeing that they were the documents in question, Paladin glimpsed out of the corner of his eye that the other lads shared guilty looks.

“He wanted to see the birth certificate with my name on it,” said Frodo. “He has the marriage certificate, too.”

“I have yet to come across a document with ‘Peregrin’ on it,” Pippin said a bit smugly.

Paladin sighed, lads will be lads. At least no real harm was done. He noted Degger sitting beside Fredegar on the other couch in conversation, which only meant that he most likely hadn’t read the document...yet.

He sat down beside his son then explained to the group about Merry and Frodo’s discovery the day before, then the subsequent exchange that took place in the tunnel between him and Frodo earlier.

“I read that Isembold merely wanted to seek his own fortune away from the influence of the Tooks,” said Merry. “But I have long known that he moved away from Great Smials in his youth.”

“Looks more like he was kicked out--and all over a silly lass!” said Pippin, disgust written all over his face. It was well-known that for the thirteen-year-old, his favourite lass was a lass as far away from him as possible--excluding his mother and sisters, of course.

“I think there is a valuable lesson in all of this with impropriety during courtship, Pippin,” Paladin cautioned is young son and anyone else in the room listening.

“Yes,” Frodo put in, “now we have a host of cousins that we have never met, and may never meet. There is also something to be said for an angry moment that lasts a lifetime.”

“Agreed,” said Paladin.

Pippin looked round the room at the various faces. “Well, where do we start?”

“At the beginning, of course,” Paladin answered his son. “Freddie, when are you due to leave?” The last Paladin knew was that Fredegar and his sister were supposed to leave this morning.

“I sent a message by Quick Post yesterday to my family that our departure would be delayed until we were sure Pippin would be all right. I suppose Stella and I could leave first thing in the morning--but not later. It’s a two day drive home, and my dad wants to be at his sister’s house by Mersday. She lives in Oatbarton.”

“Yes, you ought to leave as soon as possible,” said Paladin, “but I know Pippin has so enjoyed having you here--and so have I.”

Pippin became downhearted, “I guess that means Merry has to leave tomorrow, too.”

“Not at all, Pip,” said Merry, tousling his cousin’s curls. “That’s the other part of the surprise--I’m staying through to Yule.”

Pippin brightened immensely. “Splendid! Let’s get started!”

TBC

A/N: My deepest apologies for not updating for so long!  First it was another tale I had a deadline for, which shouldn't have been too bad, but then RL knocked me for a couple of loops last weekend which also knocked me out of character.  I'm back now and I promise to update regularly. :-)