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One Who Sticks Closer than a Brother  by Lindelea

Chapter 2. Better Late Than Never

Meadowsweet turned over in the bed, uneasy without knowing quite why. And then her hand hit the empty pillow beside her, and she came to full wakefulness.

‘Tolly...?’

She sat up, stretching languorously and blinking as she stared around the little bedroom. No, he wasn’t up to use the chamber pot, and he wasn’t splashing at the washbasin, though the ewer was half-empty and the waste-water bucket had a bowl’s worth in it, as she found when she got up to investigate. She hadn’t heard him pouring the water from the ewer into the bowl, nor from the bowl into the bucket... which were usually the sounds that wakened her, when he arose before she did.

...which he did, about half the time. The other half of the time, she was the first one up, washing and dressing, grabbing a hasty bite before getting breakfast for her young ones, settling them to their early lessons with the minder, and going to dance attendance on Mistress Diamond. Tolly would breakfast in the second parlour with the other hobbits of escort, and the lot of them would take turns standing outside the Thain’s study, ready to take a message, or walk or ride with the Thain or one of his family.

Pippin was not keen to be escorted everywhere, but the hobbits of his escort took their job seriously. Their predecessors had watched over Thain Paladin, during the time of the ruffians, and one of the escort had given his life to save the previous Thain, Ferumbras, from a wild boar. The wild Green Hills were full of surprises, not all of them pleasant.

But the clock said five o’ the morning, barely that, and there was no call to be out of the bed until six, for Meadowsweet was no dairymaid, nor baker, either, though she’d been working in the kitchens when she’d met her love in the first place. After last night’s celebration, there was additional reason to lie in, just so long as might be. Ferdi and Nell’s littlest had been named yesterday—her name had been written in the Book, that is, and there’d been a proper tea that had gone on well into the night, with much heartier food and drink than “tea” implies.

Tolly had been positively tipsy, by night’s end, though Meadowsweet had been cautious, barely sipping the celebratory glass of wine provided for the toasting, for they’d been talking about adding to their family, and so she’d not be drinking any heady beverages for some months to come. As a matter of fact, returning to their apartments from the celebration, once they’d seen the childer to bed, they’d retreated to their own room, firmly closing the door, and loved one another deeply once more—for the second time in a day. Really, that was one of the niceties of adding to the family...

In any event, to all appearances Tolly had been summoned, and earlier than usual. Perhaps the Thain had a message to go out, concerning the recent muster, or perhaps Pippin could wait no longer to question Tolly about the deaths of the ruffians he’d turned over to the Rangers. He’d shown remarkable restraint, letting Tolly off for the afternoon and evening, but it would be business as usual this morning, Sweetie was sure.

She laid herself back down on the bed, pulled up the coverlet, and hugged the pillow, falling into an uneasy sleep. She slept in fits and starts until the dwarf-made clock in the sitting room chimed six, and then she rose to begin her day.

***

‘He’s late,’ Haldi said, pouring himself a cup of tea from the fresh pot on the side table.

‘He ought to be,’ Hilly said. ‘Did you see how much of that fancy Buckland brandy he put away before Meadowsweet persuaded him to say his good-nights?’ He shook his head. While he admired his older brother, there were times when Tolly’s fey Tookishness came out and got him in trouble. Last year, when he’d wagered an astonishing amount on the pony races, for example: It had been a “sure thing” but the pony had pulled up lame. And helping Ferdi with his hare-brained scheme to save the Thain from the knowledge that his young Farry had tried to run away... ‘Twould have been better, all around, to tell the truth right off and not try to out-clever the Thain.

Of course, after all Tolly’d been through the past two days, Hilly didn’t suppose he could blame the hobbit for making very merry, after he’d seen Ferdi alive and in the flesh after thinking him buried and gone.

Ferdi himself had been bundled off to bed early, not able to celebrate as heartily as he might have, had a ruffian’s club not struck him down only two days ago. Still, one had to look at the bright side. Better abed than cold in the grave, and he’d be able to hoist a glass again, in a few weeks, when his head had healed and the healers were no longer watching his every move.

‘Now that was the Tolly I remember from the old days,’ Haldi said with a reflective sip of his tea.

‘Got any more where that came from?’ Adelard said, entering.

‘You’re late,’ Hilly said.

‘What are you, the Late-Shirriff?’ Adel said. He helped himself to breakfast from the chafing dishes and sat down with a sigh. ‘That’s what I call breakfast,’ he said. ‘Kippers and apple pud.’

‘Give me eggs and bacon any day,’ Haldi said, proceeding to load his plate with second helpings. ‘Toast isn’t bad, today... either the new apprentices have caught the trick of it, or one of the journeymen baked the bread this morning.’

‘Forgot to salt the butter,’ Isenard said with his mouth full.

‘I happen to like my butter unsalted,’ Hilly said with dignity.

‘Where’s Tolly?’ Adel said, pouring cream over his apple pudding and tucking a cloth into his collar, preparatory to taking up his fork.

‘He’s late,’ Haldi said. ‘No, wait, it’s Hilly’s place to say so.’

‘Well, he is,’ Hilly said. ‘You’d think the head of escort would set a good example for his hobbits.’

‘Well, he has us so well trained that he doesn’t need to be here, watching the door to see that we all arrive in good time,’ Adel quipped. ‘Pass the salt, will you, Isen?’

Just then Reginard, Steward to Thain Peregrin, stuck his head in at the door. ‘Where’s Tolly?’ he said. ‘The Thain wants to see him, first thing.’

‘Do I look as if I keep him in my pockets?’ Hilly said sourly. ‘He’s late.’

‘So I see,’ Regi said. ‘Well, when he drags himself in, will you send him to the Thain’s study?’

There was a general chorus of assent, and the steward took himself off again.

But when it was time for the first of them to take up his post outside the study door, Tolly had not yet arrived.

Inside the study, Tolly was the topic of discussion.

‘...not like him to come belated,’ Pippin said, nodding in thanks as Regi poured him a cup of scalding tea.

The steward shuddered, as he always did, to see Pippin take up the cup and sip at once, without adding any cooling milk, or waiting for the tea to reach a reasonable temperature. But then, the contrary hobbit liked his tea scalding, and would drink it only reluctantly once it cooled appreciably.

‘Well, the way Merry was pressing the Hall’s finest on the hobbit, I’m not surprised,’ Pippin said, sitting back and putting his hands behind his neck, leaning his head back for a good stretch.

‘The Mayor put him up to it,’ Regi said. ‘I overheard...’

‘What?’ Pippin said, leaning forward.

‘The... disposing of the ruffians was not at all pleasant,’ Regi said.

‘I wouldn’t expect it to be,’ Pippin observed.

‘No, but this was worse than usual,’ Regi said.

‘Regi,’ Pippin said, eyeing his steward. ‘Do you even know what “usual” is?’

‘No,’ Reginard said, ‘but I’ve some ideas on the matter.’

Pippin nodded. ‘Sometimes the imagining is worse than the reality,’ he said reflectively, taking a good gulp of tea, to rescue as much as possible before it grew too cool.

‘In this case, I don’t think so,’ Regi said. ‘I cannot see Mayor Sam making free with the Hall’s finest, but he certainly encouraged Merry to keep Tolly’s glass well filled. I heard him say so.’

‘And that’s why I want to hear his report,’ Pippin said. ‘Mustn’t let it fester, got to draw the sting and let the poison out. I’d thought to let him see how the Rangers do things, that he might see the ruffians die quickly and without suffering, that he not be too reluctant in future to turn wandering Men over to them, rather than escorting them safely past the Bounds. Men in the Shire are up to no good; can he not understand that?’

‘He kept the ruffians out of Tookland during the Troubles,’ Regi said. ‘I think he understands just fine.’

‘But he let those other Men go, not so long ago,’ Pippin said. ‘He’d not so easily have been accused of child-stealing, had he done his duty that day.’

‘He didn’t let these Men go,’ Regi said. ‘In point of fact, he went so far as to watch them die, Pippin, though your orders usually run contrary to such a thing. Mayor Sam has seen such, in the Southlands, but...’

‘But it was too much to expect of Tolly,’ Pippin said. ‘Is that what you’re saying, Reg? You haven’t much faith in the hobbit this morning, it seems... Do you still blame him for that unpleasantness, before the turning of the year? Or is it the fact that it was your own brother who falsely accused him, and nearly ended by being banished himself?’

‘I thought you were trying to shield the hobbits of the Shire from certain... unpleasantries to do with the ways of Men,’ Regi said stiffly. ‘Sending Tolly to watch them put an end to ruffians seems to go against what you’ve done in the past.’

‘No worse than shooting a sheep-worrying dog,’ Pippin said. ‘Which, as I recall, Tolly’s done. He’s killed any number of foxes, that would menace baby animals and little hobbits. Why, a cat must do away with rats, or they’ll overtake the grain...!’

‘Is that what they do to the ruffians, shoot them?’ Regi said. ‘Shoot them while they’re standing there, tied up? Not even able to defend themselves?’

‘That’s what you do with a sheep-worrier, once you identify him, if you don’t catch him in the act,’ Pippin said sternly. ‘You tie the dog up, and you put an end to him.’

‘But they’re Men,’ Regi said, looking queasy.

‘Exactly,’ said Pippin. ‘And when Men go so badly wrong, there’s naught else to be done, Regi. Those ruffians, that struck down Ferdi, meaning to kill him, and took Farry, meaning to do worse than that... there’s no remedy for what ails them. The King has the right of it, but there’s no need to darken the hearts of hobbits, who cannot imagine such evil, with the knowledge.’

‘So as far as most Shire-folk are concerned, the Men are just escorted out of the Shire and slapped on the hand, and made to promise never to return,’ Regi said.

Pippin sighed, pushing away his cup of cooling tea. ‘I wish it might be so, Regi,’ he said. ‘I really do. But I suppose most hobbits are not such fools. Still, there’s no need for them to know the hows of it all. They just need to know that Men are barred from the Shire, and any who’d mean harm to Shire-folk are taken care of by the King’s order or by the Kingsmen.’

‘Perhaps it’s kinder just to shoot them while we’re chasing them out,’ Regi said.

‘And that, so often, is what the Tooks do,’ Pippin said with a shake of his head. ‘That is often what they’ve done, Regi. Better to know the ruffian’s fate, than to wonder, I suppose.’

‘All the same,’ Regi began, and stopped.

‘All the same, what?’ Pippin wanted to know.

‘Never mind,’ the steward said. ‘It doesn’t matter all that much, I suppose. Men will enter the Shire, for one reason or another—usually seeking gold. And when they do, in violation of the King’s Edict, I suppose they show exactly where they stand on the matter of good and ill.’

‘That they do, Regi,’ Pippin said. ‘That they do.’ He peered at the clock. ‘Just where is Tolly, anyhow?’





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