Flowers, Gems And Estella - Chapter IX
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“Are you sure that it’s not too early to go fishing, Merry? Seems to me that if there’s still snow around on the ground, that fish might still be hibernating away from the cold.”
Fredegar cast his fishing line in the calm Brandywine River below him. He saw no evidence of fish within the water – the end of the line sat still on the surface.
“That’s exactly what the fish want us to think, Fatty,” Merry boasted, joining him on the edge of the bridge and casting his line in the water, “Fish don’t hibernate at all – they’ve been done there all winter, swimming around and thinking that we won’t be able to catch them until spring arrives – but now that there’s no ice on the river, we can hook the little buggers, and eat them before they even know what hit them!”
It was close to the end of February – all winter Fredegar could remember Merry boasting that once the ice melted off the surface of the river, there would be no end to the amount of fish they’d be able to catch. Although as the day went on, and they went home empty-handed, Fredegar was quite sure that the fish were still hibernating – something he would like to still be doing as well.
“Tomorrow will be better – the Brandywine Bridge has always been the best place for fishing,” Merry said as they headed back to Brandy Hall for a warm cup of tea, “If you can’t catch them there, you can’t catch them anywhere.”
“Except someplace warmer,” Fredegar chimed in.
Merry made a show of feeling under the weather so as to avoid a conversation with his mother once they entered the ancestral hobbit hole, and both he and Fredegar retreated to the private living quarters after retrieving two steaming cups of hot tea. Well-made portraits of Brandybuck ancestors lined the halls – faces of ancient prestige stared back at them, their heads held high and noble.
“That there’s old Gormadoc, called Deepdelver by those who knew him best,” Merry narrated, pointing to a portrait of an old, white-haired hobbit – a particularly crooked nose rested below his brow, and resembled that of Gandalf’s, “He had three sons – Madoc, from whom I am descendant – Sadoc, who settled down in the Southern half of Buckland, near the River Shirebourn – and Marroc, whose heirs include much of the South Farthing, down in Longbottom and Sarn Ford.”
Fredegar pointed to the portrait of a heavyweight hobbit, whose features were familiar. “This one looks a bit like me – especially with fat chin.”
“That’s Gorbadoc. He was called Broadbelt, and for good reason as you can see – my great-grandfather. I suppose he should like something like you, his mother was a Bolger. His first son was my grandfather, Old Rory – and his youngest daughter was Primula Baggins, Frodo’s mother.”
“So that’s how you and Frodo are related then.”
“Oh, there’s probably more ways than just that – the Brandybucks are related to half the Shire by blood, and the other half by marriage. We’re such a closed society, in time we’ll no doubt all be related – and we may have no choice but to marry our closest cousins.”
“You think?” Fredegar asked.
“Either that, or die off – but if anything like that were to happen, it wouldn’t be anytime soon.”
They heard Fredegar’s stomach give a loud groan of hunger, and retreated to the kitchens for a bite to eat. Fredegar’s appetite had improved much in the past few months – Pippin joked that his stomach now reached out further than Sam’s, which was an excellent sign. “Sorry Sam, but you’re not the fattest hobbit in the Shire anymore,” Pippin had said one evening, which earned him a glare and a scolding from Merry.
“It wasn’t too nice a thing of Pip to say,” Fredegar commented on later when the matter came up between them, “But I don’t think Sam’s feelings were hurt – his mind probably wasn’t even on the matter at all. If he wasn’t looking at Rosie at the time, he was thinking about her.”
“Even after our travels, Pip still refuses to grow up and be mature – I dare to wonder how he might deal with being married, or being with a lass at all,” Merry stated as they entered the large living hall to find Sam sitting there, waiting for them to arrive.
He looked up when he saw them come in. “Hello Merry – Fredegar,” he said, seeming nervous – his eyes darted quickly across the room, and his knees were shaking slightly.
“Sam! What brings you here?” Merry said cheerfully, looking down on Sam’s nervous state, “Does it have to do with you’re so edgy?”
“Edgy? Me? Of course not. Well, maybe a little jumpy, and anxious – and a little excited. But, I do have a purpose,” he said, taking a drink from a cup that Merry had set down in front of him – he calmed a little after he’d swallowed it, “Um, I came to tell you that – well, I already told Mr. Frodo and Pippin the news, they seemed quite excited and happy for me and, uh – well, I was with Rosie, and I, uh –”
“You, uh, did you? Well that’s perfectly marvelous – I think the whole Shire’s been waiting for you and Rosie to, uh, for quite a while – if that’s what you came to say,” Merry said.
Sam smiled. “That’s not what I meant – I mean to say, I asked – I asked Rosie, I mean Miss Cotton – well, I asked her to marry me.”
Merry and Fredegar’s jaws both dropped in astonishment. It took them a while to be able to form words. “And – and what’d she say?” Merry finally asked.
“She, uh – she said yes,” Sam said.
“That’s wonderful!” Merry broke out, “So when is it? You say you’ve already told Frodo and Pippin? Where’s it going to be?”
“Um – well, I spoke with her parents, and we agreed to the first of May – Mr. Frodo was the first person I told, other than my old gaffer, and Pippin too, he seemed excited – and, I guess it’s going to be at Hobbiton. I’m thinking about having it in the Party Field, under the mallorn tree. The whole of Hobbiton and Bywater know about it, and they’re already preparing for it – I think Rosie went up there to pick out a nice dress – oh, and I definitely want you to be there! You too Fredegar!” Sam’s eyes lit up with a cheerful light as he spoke.
“Absolutely we’ll be there – and my sister too, she’s become a great friend a Rosie’s lately. No doubt she’ll be in the wedding party,” Fredegar said.
“And I was going to write you a letter to tell you the news,” Sam said, now to Merry, “But Mr. Frodo said that I should come to tell you in person – said something like, ‘it signifies your friendship as one above simple postal correspondence.’ Told him I didn’t want to take off from tending the gardens at Bag End – everyone says they’re the best in all the Shire – but he said they’d be fine, and that I should go as soon as possible, I have so much to do back there.”
“Well, Sam,” Merry said, standing up, “I think this warrants a long stay by myself at Bag End – I’ll have to prepare for a two month stay, and send Frodo a letter, warning of my coming – or should I just see him in person, as our friendship signifies correspondence beyond that of simple post mail – or something like that.”
Everyone in Brandy Hall was excited to hear the news, and Sam was congratulated all around. Mr. and Mrs. Brandybuck promised to come – Esmeralda claimed a visit with her brother and other Took relations was long overdue – there seemed to be no end to those who promised to come for one reason or another.
It was later that evening when Merry sat down to write his letter to Frodo.
Frodo – Heard about the wedding. Sounds great. Am coming to stay at Bag End for a couple months. What did you mean about the significant correspondence, or whatever you said to Sam? It sounded like something you’d say. Sam mentioned Pippin was there too. Make sure he doesn’t do anything to prank me when I arrive. Sounds like the whole Shire is planning on coming – hope the Party Field can hold that many. Brandy Hall’s going to be empty – everyone seems to know Sam and Rosie here. Don’t think I told them, but who knows? Will be there in a couple days. – Merry
This was definitely going to be an event to remember.