Picking Up the Pieces

Chapter 10. Picking Up the Pieces

Mistress Eglantine sat silently at the table in the sitting room that had belonged to Tolly and Meadowsweet. She wondered how long her son would give Meadowsweet to make other arrangements... or Regi, rather, or perhaps Diamond. She blessed the fact that she'd given up the role of The Took to her son and the title of Mistress to her daughter in love, for her heart felt hollow with sorrow, and she was tired. Wearied by life. By too many years of tragedies, including the Troubles and their impact on the Outer Shire as well as the Tookland, though Lotho's (and then Sharkey's) Men had not been allowed to defile the Tooks' homeland with their presence.

For the Thain and the Tooks and the land itself had not escaped unscathed. Paladin, the genial farmer she'd married, had to become hard, cold and calculating. He'd tried to warn the heads of the Great Families of the danger he saw creeping over the Shire like a shadow, but they hadn't believed him until they'd left things too late to remedy. He'd had more success in keeping Lotho's influence – and his Big Men – out of the Tookland, in part due to the obstinate pride of the Tooks. Nor had the current Thain – her only son, Pippin – escaped the Troubles unmarked. For he'd returned from following Frodo into the Outlands a different hobbit, not only outwardly in terms of scars and unusual stature and wearing mail and carrying a sword. He'd also grown beyond his years in wisdom and understanding and knowledge... and heartbreak.

'Tea, Mistress.' Though Rusty, who served both Ferdi's and Tolly's families – had served, she reminded herself – had spoken quietly, he'd startled her nevertheless, with her nerves so raw from old pain and the current tragedy. The hobbitservant immediately begged her pardon.

'No need, Rusty,' she answered, managing a smile. 'Very thoughtful of you.' Though she'd handed over all her duties as Mistress of the Tooks to Diamond, everyone still seemed to think of her as such.

'I looked in, and Mistress Meadowsweet is sleeping now,' Rusty said as he poured out her tea and fixed it to her taste. 'Healer Evergreen got up to tell me she'd watch through the rest of the night, and that you should lie yourself down, Mistress.'

'I will,' Eglantine said, picking up the cup and nodding thanks to him before taking her first sip. 'Ah, Rusty, that just suits. May I use one of the guest rooms?' she added. Of course, she might've slept in any bed in the Great Smials she wished, for the Tooks seemed inclined to grant her every wish. She wasn't sure why they held her in such high esteem, for she'd only done what was right over the years Paladin had been Thain. Nonetheless, it seemed she could do no wrong. O' course, it was not something she'd ever abuse or let go to her head.

'Yes'm,' Rusty said. 'I took the liberty of making up a bed fresh for you, Mistress. There's a fire on the hearth and warmers in the bed, and the ewer's freshly filled, and...'

'Very good, Rusty,' she said, trying not to show her exhaustion at this seemingly endless list of actions he'd taken to demonstrate his care and respect. 'Please convey to Evergreen that I wish to be wakened, should Sweetie come awake.'

She saw the arguments he would not voice in the hobbitservant's eyes, but he bowed and assented. 'Will there be anything else, Mistress?' he said.

'No, Rusty,' Eglantine answered. 'I'll just finish this cup, and then I'll see myself off to bed.'

'Very good, Mistress,' Rusty said, and with another bow, he left her alone with her thoughts.

Pimpernel had not wanted to live on after her first husband Rudivacar Bolger had died of a sudden onset of illness. Though the marriage had not been her choice, Rudi's love and care had won her heart. Together, they'd had five children, and she'd been expecting their sixth when Rudi was taken from her.

The Bolger had sent to the Tooks for help. Eglantine had convinced Pippin that they must bring her to the Great Smials, under the care of the Tooks, though Pippin had argued long and bitterly against the move. With Healer Woodruff's help, Eglantine had made arrangements so that Pimpernel would never be left alone but would always have someone with her to talk and sing to her, to keep her from falling into dark thoughts, to remind her of her blessings, even to bring her food and nag her to eat and drink until the babe was born – and then after.

These unconventional, and frankly intrusive, measures had brought Pimpernel through the darkest period. But then, old Odovacar Bolger and young Thain Peregrin had gone farther, stretching the bounds of propriety nearly to the breaking point... and yet... 'And yet,' Eglantine said to herself, 'it's almost as if things were supposed to work out as they did.' She shook her head in wonder.

For The Bolger and The Took had conspired to bring Ferdibrand and Pimpernel together after Pimpernel had mourned for more than a year. Though they'd been sweethearts since childhood, fate had separated them after Ferdi was badly injured – some had called him "permanently crippled" – at the Battle of Bywater. Ferdi had withdrawn from life in general and Tookish society in particular... and so Paladin had arranged for Pimpernel to marry Rudivacar, the younger brother of old Odo. Yet Ferdi never married; his heart belonged to Nell alone. Though marrying a second time was almost unheard-of in the Shire, somehow the two conspirators convinced Nell and Ferdi to marry. And so, quite recently, they had.

'From joy to sorrow...' Eglantine said, placing her teacup on the saucer and rising from the table. But then she shook her head again. 'No,' she told herself. 'From sorrow to joy.' For Nell had grieved Rudi but then married her first love, Ferdi. 

She wondered if it might be possible for Meadowsweet, widowed at such a young age, to find love again... But first, they needed to get the lass through this initial period of grief. Well, Eglantine had managed such a process once before for her daughter. Now she'd try and do the same for her daughter's bosom friend. She headed for bed but was arrested in the hallway leading to the bedrooms by desperate sobbing. Sweetie!

Eglantine hurried to Tolly's and Meadowsweet's bedroom and found Healer Evergreen standing next to the bed, holding the bereaved hobbit close and murmuring broken words of intended comfort as Sweetie wept. Tolly's name, muffled, emerged at intervals, mingled with her sobs and gasps.

Eglantine moved to them and circled them both with her arms, laying her head on Meadowsweet's shoulder. 'I know,' she murmured. 'I know, dearie.'

She did know, of course. Her own beloved husband had died some years earlier, and she knew the pain of such a loss – as if her own heart had been ripped from its place and torn asunder.

She wasn't sure how long they stood this way, but eventually, Meadowsweet slumped in their arms, and together, Mistress and healer eased her back onto the bed and smoothed the coverlet over her.

'Thank you, Mistress,' Evergreen whispered. 'I would have summoned you, to let you know she'd awakened, but...'

'Of course,' Eglantine said, and added, 'You look exhausted, my dear.'

'Grief is exhausting for everyone it touches,' Evergreen confirmed. She looked to the bed. 'I think... I hope she'll sleep for some time now.'

'A draught?' Eglantine asked delicately.

But Evergreen shook her head. 'I offered her one earlier, but...'

Eglantine nodded. It went against the healers' principles to dose a hobbit without their knowledge or permission. How difficult it must be for them to stick to their resolve in this sort of situation!

'Get some sleep yourself, Mistress,' Evergreen urged. 'I'll watch over her until Woodruff sends another healer to take my place.' She cocked her head with a keen look of inquiry. 'Were you planning to breakfast with her?'

'Well I wasn't planning to sleep in,' Eglantine said crisply. She softened the words with a smile and amended, 'Yes, that was my plan. I'll do my best to persuade her to eat for the babe's sake, if not her own.'

'Very well, Mistress,' Evergreen said, and bowed her head in dismissal.

Eglantine could take a hint.

Rusty had indeed made the guest room as comfortable as he knew how, with many small touches that spoke of his skill and dedication to his duties. Even so, sleep eluded Eglantine for a long time. 

*** 

Despite her short night, Eglantine was up well before breakfast. As the wife of a farmer, she'd arisen halfway through middle night and the dawning for years in order to provide early breakfast for the farmer, hired hands, and their children when they'd reached an age where they could help. After early breakfast, comprising freshly brewed tea with bread and jam, came the washing up and the preparation of second breakfast, a hearty meal taken at dawn. Early breakfast provided enough energy for "close in" chores such as milking, gathering eggs, feeding all the animals, and cleaning stalls. Second breakfast prepared the workers for more rigorous work, such as ploughing and planting, haying and harvesting, pulling weeds, herding goats and sheep, training ponies, and more. 

Here in the Smials, the working hobbits ate early and second breakfasts at the same scope and on the same timetable as farm families, while the gentry generally ate a hearty breakfast a little before dawn; their second breakfast was a much lighter meal taken around nine o' the clock. It had taken some getting used to for Eglantine to adapt to the Great Smials morning scheme, but she had managed it. She'd had it easier, she supposed, than Pippin's experience in the Southlands when he'd been faced with eating like a Man, both less often and lesser quantities!

When Eglantine entered the sitting room, Rusty had already lit the chafing dishes on the sideboard and placed food there to warm. A cosied teapot waited on the table with cups, saucers, and spoons as well as a pot of honey, a pitcher of milk and another of cream, and a bowl freshly filled with lumps of sugar. The hobbitservant had obviously been "there and gone" and was at this moment, no doubt, performing the same service for Ferdibrand and Pimpernel next door.

'Here we are,' Evergreen said from the door to the hallway leading to the more private rooms.

Eglantine looked up to see the healer guiding Meadowsweet to the table. She frowned absently at seeing the strain in Evergreen's face which had seemed relatively serene in dealing with Sweetie's grief last night, even though serenity was probably the appearance the healer deliberately put on in her professional capacity.

'Would you rather sit down, and I serve you, or would you prefer to make your own choices?' Evergreen said.

'I'm well,' Meadowsweet answered. 'But please, sit down with us and take some breakfast before you must go. From the delicious smells, Rusty has been making magic in the kitchen again. That hobbit...!'

And now Eglantine was suppressing a frown for a different reason, and understanding some of the strain Evergreen was showing. Had grief stolen Sweetie's wits?

Her worries were further reinforced after Sweetie had filled her plate at the sideboard, encouraged Eglantine and Evergreen to do the same, sat down and poured out tea for them all, and then proceeded to eat with a good appetite as she spoke lightly about everyday matters.

Pouring out more tea, Meadowsweet shook her head and said, 'Tolly actually detests tea! I think he only drinks it to please me and to avoid scandalising his cousins...'

Eglantine and Evergreen exchanged glances. 

After listening to a few more observances of Tolly's likes and dislikes, Eglantine put a gentle hand on Sweetie's arm. 'My dear...' she said, trying to figure out how to broach the subject.

But Meadowsweet arrested her, almost mid-word, by laughing gaily. 'O Mistress!' she said on seeing Eglantine's dismay and confusion. 'Please, forgive me. But all is well!'

'All is well?' Eglantine echoed, stunned.

'O' course!' Meadowsweet said. 'Why such a long face? Please, comfort yourself. I am well!'

Eglantine looked to Evergreen, who nodded – as soon as breakfast was over, she'd go and find the head healer and bring her here as quickly as possible. When she looked back to Meadowsweet, the lass's smile was as bright as a sunny day. 'I'm glad to hear you're feeling well,' she ventured.

'I hate to see you so worried,' Meadowsweet said, placing a gentle hand on Eglantine's. 'Please,' she added. 'Half the things we worry about never come to pass!'

'I...' Eglantine said at a complete loss. 'I don't understand.'

Meadowsweet patted Eglantine's hand and said, 'Don't worry. When Tolly comes back, I'll have him explain it to you just as he did to me, that day when all the hunters rode out to deal with that sounder of swine.' At Eglantine's befuddled expression, she clarified, 'Why you remember, I'm sure you do! For they were so dangerous, the Steward would not let your son, the Thain, ride out on the hunt but insisted that only trained hunters go out!'

She laughed again. 'And I was so worried... for everyone knows how that hunt went in Thain Ferumbras's time – hunters injured and killed and crippled, and the Thain himself scored and battered! I thought, what terrible thing might happen if a boar should charge the hunters again! But then Tolly came back, and he chided me for my worries... and we had a grand feast, did we not?'

Tolly's pony had been badly lamed, Eglantine remembered, and a charging boar had come much too close to goring and trampling Ferdibrand, who'd been on foot when the enormous creature had broken from cover, than bore thinking about. But she only knew these things because Pippin had told her much later, after receiving the chief hunter's report of the hunt.

'My dear...' Eglantine tried. But Meadowsweet shook her head.

'He's not dead,' she said firmly. 'O I know they think he is, or they wouldn't have told me so. And it frightened me terribly, I must admit, and at first I couldn't help but believe them, for why would they tell me if it wasn't so?'

'I...' Eglantine said, though her head was whirling.

Meadowsweet wasn't finished. 'If my Tolly were dead, I would have felt it. I would have felt his death – my heart would have broken into pieces, tiny pieces too small to ever put back together again.' She thumped her chest with her fist. 'But it's not... I mean, it's there. He's there. I know...' 

Her eyes demanded Eglantine's full attention. Slowly, she repeated. 'I know he's not dead.'

*** 

Haldi stood uneasily in front of Pippin's desk, though it took a sharp eye to detect his unease. The Thain surveyed the paler-than-usual face and red-rimmed eyes that told, not of tears, but of the escorts having gathered, probably in The Spotted Duck, a favourite haunt, to toast their Head out of the world after they'd returned from their fruitless search. Likely enough they'd kept on toasting and drinking up until the moment the landlord chased them out of the public house. The grief and anger were worse, somehow, when there was no body to bury.

The hobbit stood straighter under the Thain's scrutiny, though it hardly seemed possible since he'd been standing at attention from the moment he'd taken his stance before the desk and had said, 'You sent for me, Sir.'

'I did,' Pippin said at last. 'You came second in the Tournament.'

'Third, Sir,' Haldi corrected boldly, but then he'd always been one to speak his mind. 'Hally Bolger came second after Tolibold.'

'Second amongst the Tooks who competed,' Pippin allowed, shooting a staying glance at Reginard, who was poised to offer a reprimand to the escort for his "cheek". It's not cheek if I'm wrong and the other hobbit is right, the glance said. 'That means, with Tolly gone, you've already qualified for the position as head of the Thain's escort.'

When Haldi offered no response, not even a nod, Pippin spoke again. 'I'm offering you the position. You're the best candidate, according to the traditions of the Tooks going back even farther than Regi-here remembers...'

Haldi's face remained blank, expressionless, not even offering the faintest of polite smiles to acknowledge the small witticism.

'Well?' Pippin said, wondering if Haldi was even more badly hungover than he'd suspected as the hobbit had entered the study, eyes narrowing at the onslaught of light from the turned-up lamps.

'Sir?'

'Will you take it on?' Pippin pressed. 'O' course, it would mean that you and your Laura would move into the apartments set aside for the head of escort and his family. I only ask that you'd allow Meadowsweet time to absorb the shock and decide what she wants to do... We've offered her rooms here at the Smials, or we'll help her remove to her parents' farm.' When Haldi still did not speak, he added, 'And Mardi, as head of that branch of the family, has asked her to consider staying in Tuckborough with him and his family.' 

'No, Sir,' Haldi finally said.

'No?' Pippin echoed, wondering just which option the escort was objecting to.

'I won't take it on,' Haldi said, his lips set in a grim line. 'Tolly's head, not me.'

Pippin blinked. 'But he's...'

Before the Thain could pronounce the word dead, Haldi interrupted.

'I'll fill in for him while he's gone, at least until next year's Tournament, when p'rhaps the escort will find themselves with a new Head, but I'll not take the position he won with his steady hand and keen eye.' His gaze bored into the Thain. 'Finest archer in all the Shire – I'll not take that away from him.'

'You'll...' Pippin said slowly, '...fill in for him...'

Haldi gave a short, sharp nod. 'Aye, Sir,' he said. 'So do you have any orders for me this morning, Sir?'

Pippin sat staring at the escort for a long enough time that Regi felt the need to jump in. 'No orders for the moment, Haldi,' the Steward said. 'You may go.'

Haldi bowed to the Thain and then, somewhat ironically, to the Steward. 'Thank you, Sir,' he said, ostensibly to Pippin, but he was acknowledging Regi's dismissal.

When the door had closed behind the hobbit, Pippin looked to his steward. 'So what are we to do about Meadowsweet?' he said.

Regi shook his head. 'Tolly's Sweetie is a force unto herself... but at least Haldi won't be claiming the head's suite of rooms anytime soon. That means we can leave things as they are, for the moment, any road, and give her plenty of time for grieving before she has to make up her mind as to next steps.'

Pippin answered Regi's head-shake with one of his own. 'There's no such thing as "plenty of time for grieving",' he said. 'I'm almost surprised at you, Reg, for saying such a thing.'

And so, instead of saying None of your nonsense now, Pip, as he was so often moved to do, the Steward found himself begging the Thain's pardon for his careless choice of words.

*** 

Though Eglantine and Healers Woodruff and Evergreen would hardly have credited it, Meadowsweet and her babe-in-arms were gone from the Smials within the week. 'It unnerved her,' Diamond explained as she poured out cups of tea for Pippin and Eglantine after Farry had been tucked in for the night with a song and a story. 'Rattling around in that large suite, meant to accommodate even a large family since there's no telling what sort of hobbit will win the Tournament and the position of head...'

'The finest of archers,' Pippin said. 'That's the sort of hobbit we're talking about.'

'That's all fine and well,' Diamond said, 'but Tolly and Sweetie have only the one babe, as it were, and one on the way...'

'Had,' Pippin said, quietly emphasising the word. At Diamond's questioning look, he clarified. 'Tolly had only the one babe, as it were. To hear folk speak of him as if he's still in the world and will walk in through the door at any moment, well, it gives me a turn.'

He looked from Diamond to Eglantine and said, 'Dead is dead, so far as I'm concerned.' He spoke with an air of confidence that shook his listeners to their core, for he'd first been forced to look Death in the face at too young an age, had anticipated Death's touch too many times from that point onward, and now, he daily walked with the knowledge that he was fated to die sooner than later, considering the state of his lungs since the Old Gaffer's Friend* had got its hooks into him just after he'd come of age.

But Diamond caught her breath sharply, and her eyes shone with tears. 'Is that how you think of it?' she half-sobbed. 'You'll be dead and gone... really gone... cut off...'

Understanding, he took her hand in a firm grip between his two hands, squeezed her hand and then patted it gently. 'But I won't be gone, not at all,' he said quietly. 'I'll be at the Feast, waiting for you, of course, my heart. I'll only be a breath away...'

'While there's breath, there's life,' Eglantine murmured incongruously.

But Pippin nodded at his mother with a smile. 'Exactly!' he said. And turning back to Diamond, he said earnestly, 'And when you've taken the last sip that's in the cup, my love, and you put the cup down upon the table and look up, why... there I'll be, my arms spread wide to welcome you, and it'll be as if no time at all has passed since our parting.' His voice lower, he said, 'As if there were no parting at all, once we're there together again...'

But Diamond buried her head in his shoulder and gave herself up to her tears. Pippin released her hand, encircled her with his arms, and held her close and patted her back. Eglantine quietly rose from the table and left the room, groping her way to where little Faramir slept with a smile on his face. There, she sank down beside her small grandson and quietly wept at her own losses, both past and too clearly anticipated.

About a week later, bearing a lantern as if he meant to explore one of the abandoned, closed-off tunnels deep in the Great Smials, Pippin stepped over the threshold of the head of escort's apartments, for he and the Steward had discussed only that morning what to do with the furnishings belonging to Tolly and Meadowsweet.

Belonging to Meadowsweet, he reminded himself firmly. For where Tolly was, he'd have no need of the kind of furnishings to be found in the Great Smials. Not for the first time, Pippin wondered about the furnishings at the Feast. Did the hobbits there recline on blankets and picnic cloths on a grassy meadow? Were there tables and chairs, or one long table, stretching into the far distance, with benches lining either side? He shook his head to dispel the fancy and looked up to survey the sitting room, the first room one encountered after passing through the entryway from the public corridor.

Though he'd expected to see a darkened room sporting a fine layer of dust on all the surfaces after nearly a fortnight of emptiness, the lamps were lit and a small, cheerful fire burned on the hearth. Fresh fruit filled the bowl resting in the middle of the table, which had been polished to a high sheen. Pippin, blowing out his lantern and setting it upon the table, looked down to see his reflection in the wood.

No dust was evident, either, on the chairs or the mantel or the sideboard or the settee and easy chairs by the hearth. No spiders had been allowed to spin their webs in the absence of hobbit occupants. He wrinkled his nose and inhaled as deeply as his damaged lungs would allow, but no smell of dust came from the carpet or tapestries. Even the andirons in the fireplace gleamed with polishing.

Someone – Rusty, no doubt – was keeping the apartments as if Meadowsweet – or Tolly, he had to admit – might walk through the door at any moment.

'Have half the hobbits in the Smials lost their wits?' he wondered aloud. For over the past fortnight, too many of the Tooks and Tooklanders and servants he'd spoken with had talked about Tolly in the way one talks about someone who has just stepped out for a moment and will soon return. Sooner or later, Pippin thought, and shook his head at himself.

You're already daft enough that Regi has to regularly remind you to rein in your nonsense, you fool of a Took! he chided himself. Someone around here has got to keep a cool head.

But why does that have to be me? he thought rebelliously.

With a sigh, he took up the lantern, rubbed at the mark his carelessness had left on the glossy surface of the table – suddenly sure that if he should return later, the mark would have been buffed away – and took his leave, closing the door silently behind him.

*** 

Author's notes:

*Old Gaffer's Friend: Shire term for pneumonia, which could take a terrible toll on old and young alike.

The story of how Pimpernel and Ferdibrand finally came together as a result of a conspiracy between Pippin and Odovacar Bolger appears in Flames.

Even though it goes against a healer's principles to slip a potion into someone's drink without asking or telling them, I wouldn't put it past Mardi to have done something like that after they pulled Tolly out from under the fallen tree in the earlier chapter...

The disastrous hunt when Ferumbras was Thain is described in Pearl of Great Price, and more graphically in a dream Pippin has in StarFire. The hunt that Steward Reginard prevented Thain Peregrin from joining happens in The Thrum of Tookish Bowstrings (Part 1).

***