Chapter 2. Into the Darkness

Freddy left just after middle night. The little Bolgers had long been a-bed by then, but Rosemary and Hally sat up with their guest until Hally deemed it time for him to be going. They sat in near-darkness, with only a small fire on the hearth to warm them and give light. The lamp was turned down and placed in the window, a watch-lamp to guide the lost to shelter, as was custom in the deeps of the Woody End, and other places in the Shire.

Of course, most Shirefolk these days could not keep the practice, not with the shortage of lamp oil, the way things were with the ruffians in charge of everything. Hally and Rosemary did not seem concerned, however with conserving their oil. Estella was glad for this. It might have been much harder for Freddy and herself to find the woodcarver's humble cot the previous night, groping through the wood in utter darkness, the stars hidden by clouds, without that light shining from the window.

The hobbits sat quietly, for the most part. If a passing ruffian were to hear talk or song or laughter coming from the little smial, he'd want to know why.

They'd exhausted most of the family news as they'd sat at table before the little ones were put to bed, anyhow. There wasn't much left to tell, and the near-darkness made them sleepy. At least, it made Estella sleepy.

She was half in a doze when Hally rose to his feet, startling her awake.

'Middle night,' he said. 'Or just past. The moon has set, and it won't get any darker than it is now.'

'I'd best make my way, then,' Freddy answered.

'You won't lose your way?' Rosemary whispered. 'The sky's clear above the treetops, of a mercy, and if you know your stars...'

'I know them,' Freddy answered. 'Frodo showed me...' His voice grew a little husky, and he cleared his throat and said no more.

Estella swallowed down a hard lump in her throat. Frodo, gone now, gone into the Old Forest with Merry and the others. All of them, vanished, as if the forest had swallowed them up. The general feeling from what she'd heard was that they'd never come back, though Freddy always set his lips in a thin line when the subject was brought up, and his look would grow distant, for a moment or two, and then he'd begin to speak briskly of something else.

She saw Freddy looking at her with that sober expression he'd worn all too often lately, but instead of feeling annoyance she felt now grief, and a fear that went all the way to her bones. He'd been planning something; she knew the signs – for the past fortnight he'd been making plans and preparations, though he wouldn't admit to anything, and she'd been seriously put out when he'd suggested sending her off to Tookland “for safety” as he'd said. She'd thought perhaps he was simply trying to keep his private business private, just as in the old days when he and Frodo or Merry had planned mischief together, and he'd sent her, trusting little sister that she'd been before growing wise to his ways, to the parlour with a question for Mother, and of course their mother had always found some task for Estella, to keep her out of the lads' way.

But lads' mischief it wasn't, not any more, but serious business, perhaps deadly serious.

She flew to him as he rose from his seat, throwing her arms around his bulk and burying her face in his shirt with a wordless sob.

She felt his arms encircle her; he patted her back, murmuring soothing-sounding nonsense. 'There-there, Stell, there-there...' At least he didn't think her so young and stupid that he mouthed the old platitude that everything would be all right. Of course it wouldn't. Why else was he sending her away to find safety?

She managed to put words to her fear, lifting her head to gaze earnestly into his face. 'O Freddy,' she sobbed. 'Will I ever see you again?'

He hesitated, and that hesitation spoke more than a plethora of promises.

She gasped, and then steadied herself, leaning her head against his shirt to wipe away the tears; and then she looked up with a trembling smile. 'Go carefully,' she whispered, and winked her eyes hard to forestall more tears.

His arms tightened a moment and then he kissed her tenderly on her forehead before pulling away to offer final thanks to Hally and Rosemary, and then he had slipped out the door, silent for all his bulk. He was gone.

Estella caught her breath, forcing a fist against her mouth and biting her knuckles hard. He was going into danger, she knew that for certain now, and he didn't know if he'd return. Perhaps he was going after Frodo... but she couldn't call after him, she couldn't alert lurking ruffians to his going, her parting gift must be to let him go in silence.

'Come, lass,' Rosemary said, slipping an arm about her shoulders, and then with a rare blush corrected herself. 'Lad. It's time to sleep.' She'd been more affected by the brother and sister's parting than she wanted to admit. Every time Ferdi visited, every time he slipped out the door into the dark wood, and no telling if the ruffians were nearby, only the darkness for cover, darkness that could hide murderous ruffians as well as her brother...

'Time to sleep,' Hally echoed. He shoved the heavy bar into place. Bucklanders might be peculiar folk, but the hobbits of the Woody End had begun to imitate them in the way of barring and locking doors. Hally had no lock, and no way to make or buy one, not the sort that worked with a key; but being a woodcarver he'd fashioned a workable bar since the coming of the ruffians, and he employed it at night, and only wished the ruffians could be locked out of the Shire quite as effectively and completely.

He turned away as Rosemary guided the lass – lad, he corrected himself – to the waiting roll of blankets before the hearth, and went to his and Rosemary's bed to punch up the pillows and turn down the covers for his wife, to welcome her when she should finish what ever it was she was whispering to the la... lad. He was asleep before she joined him.

If anyone heard Estella crying herself to sleep (and they might not've, for she buried her face well in her pillow to stifle any sound), well, no one remarked upon it when the morning light came creeping through the window and it was time to start the tasks of the day.