Chapter 1. A Long-Expected Party

Autumn was well under way, and harvest was proceeding smoothly despite Paladin’s good-natured grumbles, which happened every year about this time, what with September passing as it was, and the Twenty-second drawing near. It was decidedly inconvenient that Certain Hobbits celebrated their Birthdays during harvest. Paladin’s children had sensibly timed their arrivals to avoid the busy seedtime and harvest, and the farmer (though there was always a twinkle in his eye as he pontificated this point - and always a blush on Eglantine’s cheeks, though she’d hide a smile) didn’t see why other hobbits could not be as practical.

‘Of course you may go, dear,’ Eglantine broke in, taking pity on her youngest. She shot a reproving glance at her husband, and then smiled at Pippin once more. ‘You’ve been planning on helping Frodo with his removal to Buckland since the summer months, and your father hired an extra hobbit all because of it...! Dinny, do stop making the lad miserable! This is a happy occasion!’

As it was! Tea that day was a party for all the hobbits gathered around the table, farm family and hired hobbits together. It was not a farewell party for the youngest member of the family, either, for though he'd be off to Bag End on the morrow, for a visit long in the planning, his frequent visits when his father could spare him from the demands of farming, to Bag End or Buckland were hardly something requiring special notice. No, this was much more important than one of Pippin’s leave-takings. Pimpernel was at last betrothed to be married!

It had been taken for granted, since their early days, that Ferdibrand and Pimpernel would marry. Paladin liked to say he’d seen the sprouting of the seed on the day Ferdi had pursued young Nell, bearing a handful of mud, and stuffed it down the back of her bodice when he caught her. The good farmer’s recounting of the memory always made Ferdi grin, and Nell blush and duck her head, but then she and Ferdi would share their special look and for a moment it was as if there were only two of them in the room. Yes, it had seemed to be a standing agreement, from their early days, and now at last it had been spoken aloud and sealed with a toasting of teacups.

‘Yes,’ Paladin said, grinning, as his glance went round the table in satisfaction. ‘It’s not every day a hobbit gains a new son! And here I’ve doubled the number of mine!’ He raised his cup again. ‘To sons!’

The toast was echoed by all and drunk, and then the farmer winked and added, ‘And may the two of you have many of them!’

General laughter followed, and if Pippin was a little quiet, Eglantine put it down to melancholy over Frodo’s removal to Buckland. It was easier to spare the lad for a visit to Bag End, only fourteen or so miles across the fields, than it was to spare him for a longer sojourn in Buckland. Visits to Frodo would be a little fewer and farther between after this, probably having to coincide with his annual summer or winter visit to Merry. Pippin had spent a great deal of time in Buckland and the Marish in the past, but it was growing harder for Paladin to spare his son, especially during seedtime and harvest. Ah, well, at least the lad had Yuletide to look forward to, after this short time away, helping Frodo to pack up Bag End and to set up his new househole at Crickhollow. He’d be back in good time for the bulk of the apple harvest, and well before they began to plough the fields for winter wheat and barley.

As if feeling the weight of his mother’s concern, Pippin straightened in his chair and lifted his own teacup with an insouciant grin. ‘Welcome to the family, brother! It’s taken you long enough...’

Ferdi laughed with the rest. Three years past his majority, he was a little young to be marrying. It was common for a hobbit to marry at forty or so, once he was well established in business and able to support a wife. Ferdi, however, was well established in business. He’d worked alongside his father for years, training ponies. This summer, as a matter of fact, he’d taken over the business while his father recuperated from a broken leg, and he’d done well, training the new crop of ponies of regular clients as well as generating new business among those in the neighbourhood with difficult ponies.

Paladin had just about persuaded him to remove to Whittacres on a permanent basis, after the wedding, rather than taking Nell away to Bridgefields where his family spent the winter months. He was going on about it now, as a matter of fact. ‘...and with you training ponies, and Pip managing the fields and the sheep, why, Whittacres will be the richest farm hereabouts! And I’ll be able to sit back and put my feet up, and let the two of you run things...’

‘Ah, my poor uncle,’ Ferdi said with mock solicitousness. ‘Is your rheumatism playing up again? When Pip returns from Buckland we’ll take over all the details of harvest, and you may knit by the fireside...’

‘I might just do,’ Paladin growled, suppressing a grin, ‘you young whip-snapper! I’d like to see you and Pip take on harvest, the two of you, and managing the hired hobbits! You’ll find there’s a lot more to it than...’

‘Now, now,’ Eglantine interposed, seeing Pippin gulp at this, and supposing she knew all about it. Really, the lad was still some years short of his majority, and not ready to be burdened with such responsibility, though he’d proven himself reliable and capable under his father’s direction. ‘Don’t quite put yourself out to pasture yet, my good husband! I’m sure you’ve a few more productive years left to you!’

‘What you mean to say is that I mayn’t occupy my time with loafing and fishing just yet,’ Paladin said, and there were chuckles from the hired hobbits.

‘Not just yet,’ Eglantine said, putting her hands on her hips and affecting a stern tone. ‘You may occupy yourself with loafing and fishing just as soon as I may!’

‘Well then,’ Paladin said behind his hand, ‘Nell, Vinca, you’d better stir yourselves up to take over the homekeeping, that your mother might have some time to herself...’ and he winked again.

‘That your father might have some time to himself...’ Eglantine echoed in a conspiratorial whisper, and amid the laughter, Pervinca jumped up from her seat to fetch a fresh pot of tea, the final pot for the day. The last of the Sun’s farewell was fading in the sky, and teatime had lingered past eventides on this festive occasion.

Pimpernel broke off her silent communion with Ferdibrand and rose to clear away the plates. One more cup of tea, all around, and the washing up, and it would be time to seek their beds. A farm family must arise early, and Pippin would be off immediately after early breakfast, on his way to Hobbiton.

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A/N: A few turns of phrase have been borrowed from "Three is Company" in The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien