Chapter 8. Bittersweet Reunion

 ‘When must you return to the Mistress?’ Saradoc asked, sipping at a warming mug of hot spiced cider. The rain had stopped while they were riding, the sun had come out, but not before they’d been soaked to the skin. Warmed by bath and dry clothes, the steaming cider was the finishing touch.

 ‘Just before half past five,’ Pearl answered. ‘Or five, to be on the safe side.’

 ‘She’ll appreciate your dedication to duty, though she will not say so,’ Esmeralda said. ‘Lalia has a good heart, but she covers it with shrewdness and bad temper. If she snaps at you, remember, dear, that she is old, and fat, and confined to a chair.’

 ‘I’ll remember,’ Pearl promised, finishing her own cider and shaking her head when Merry would have poured more into her mug. ‘I’d really like to see Rosie and Ferdi before going back to the Mistress,’ she added.

 ‘Then let us go,’ Saradoc said, putting down his half-empty mug and rising. ‘Meriadoc? Will you accompany us?’

Perhaps it was her imagination, but Pearl thought she saw Merry hesitate slightly before nodding and saying, ‘Of course I will. I ought to have seen Ferdi first thing! I only hope he doesn’t take offence at my dereliction.’

 ‘We’ll make it a party,’ Esmeralda said, taking Pearl’s hand. They followed Saradoc to a part of the Great Smials not often visited by outsiders, where the invalids reside, seldom seen by anyone but family. The heir to Buckland led them to a sun-soaked sitting-room, large and pleasant, filled with shabby but comfortable furnishings, better cared-for than some of the more public rooms Pearl had seen. There was no dust on the tables and shelves, the floor was swept and scrubbed clean, and the air was fresh, without the mustiness she’d noticed in the Thain’s study.

A pleasant-faced hobbit matron came to greet them in a low voice, introducing herself as Bittersweet. ‘It’s naptime at the moment,’ she said. ‘Most everyone’s asleep.’

 ‘Is Rosemary about?’ Saradoc said. ‘We came to see her brother Ferdi, and their father, if possible.’

 ‘Ferdinand is much too ill,’ Bittersweet said sadly. ‘He’s asked to have no visitors, and it’s probably just as well.’

 ‘Has he...’ Saradoc hesitated. ‘Has he turned his face to the wall?’ he forced himself to say. Had Ferdinand given up the fight, refusing food and drink, waiting for death to claim him?

 ‘No,’ Bittersweet answered. ‘I think he stays for the sake of his son. He’s hoping that young Ferdi will yet come to his senses.’ From her tone she evidently thought it unlikely. ‘I’ll go tell Rosemary you’re here.’ She left, and within a few moments Rosemary herself entered the sitting-room.

 ‘Rosie,’ Saradoc said, rising from his chair to cross the room. He took her hand and looked searchingly into her face. Gone was the laughing young tween who’d danced one warm day last summer with Paladin’s daughters in the babbling brook that ran through the farm, while Merry and Ferdi chased young Pip through the shallows. She’d grown pale and thin, and there were dark shadows under her eyes, though her smile was as sweet.

Esmeralda rose too, coming swiftly to take the girl in a fierce embrace. ‘Rosemary,’ she said softly. ‘Child. I don’t know what to say.’

 ‘You don’t have to say anything,’ Rosemary whispered.

Merry stood awkwardly by until his parents had finished greeting the girl, then said, ‘Hullo, Rosie.’

 ‘Merry,’ she answered. ‘It was good of you to come. I’ll tell Ferdi you came to ask after him.’

 ‘But—’ Saradoc protested. ‘May we not see him?’

 ‘O,’ Rosemary said, ‘I think—that wouldn’t be a good idea, for you to grieve yourselves so. Please,’ she said. ‘It’s better this way.’

 ‘I think—’ Saradoc said in the same vein, ‘that you carry too heavy a burden, child. I would like to give my regards to your brother.’

 ‘He doesn’t see or hear you,’ Rosemary whispered, tears coming to her eyes. ‘ ‘Twill only grieve you. Please,’ she said. ‘Leave us be.’

 ‘You don’t understand,’ Esmeralda said gently. ‘I’ve seen this before, in my own family.’ Merry looked wide-eyed at his mother. Could she mean the oldest of her sisters, who’d died before Merry was born, whose name was seldom mentioned when Paladin and Esmeralda began to reminisce about old times on the farm? He exchanged glances with Pearl, who also had dawning realisation writ large upon her face.

Rosemary wavered, and Esmeralda added softly, ‘Do not carry this burden alone, cousin.’

 ‘O cousin Allie,’ Rosemary said. ‘You do know?’

 ‘Indeed I do,’ Esmeralda said firmly, folding Rosemary against her side, under her comforting arm. ‘Come now,’ she added. ‘Waiting only makes it worse. Ferdi’s probably wondering where you’ve got to.’

 ‘He’s not wondering anything at all,’ Rosemary said sadly, but Esmeralda shook her head.

 ‘You don’t know that,’ she said stubbornly. ‘Don’t you give him up, not until the last drop is poured out of the cup.’ Together they walked from the sitting room, down a short inner corridor with doors opening on the left, all windowed rooms bright with sunshine. Saradoc offered his arm to Pearl and they followed, Merry bringing up the rear.

At last they came to Ferdi’s room. Entering, they saw the teen sitting in a chair that faced the windows. The recent rain sparkled on the brilliant greensward outside the window, and brightly cascading geraniums rioted in the window-box outside. It was a pleasant view, for any who cared to see. Bittersweet sat by Ferdi’s side, holding his hand and singing softly. She looked up at their entrance, breaking off to say cheerfully, ‘Here, now, young Ferdi. Your sister’s come back, and someone else is here to see you.’

Ferdi did not acknowledge their entrance or her words, staring blankly before him. Rosemary ducked out from under Esmeralda’s arm to move quickly to her brother’s side, taking up his other hand. ‘I’m here, Ferdi,’ she said. ‘Look who’s come! Merry Brandybuck and his parents, and your cousin Pearl.’

Pearl moved to Rosemary’s side and crouched to look directly into Ferdi’s unseeing eyes. ‘Hullo, cousin,’ she said softly. ‘Nell wanted me to give you her warmest regards.’ When Ferdi did not respond to the name, Pearl felt a pang. He’d followed Nell around the farm like a faithful dog the last few summers, sometimes pestering the life out of her with his practical jokes, other times presenting her with armfuls of wildflowers or making up songs or playing pranks just to make her laugh and bring out the pink in her cheeks. Pearl had been sure that Ferdi and Nell would marry some day; it was only a matter of time. But now...

Saradoc nudged Merry forward, and he stumbled on the smooth floor, feeling a growing sense of unreality. This was not Ferdi, his lively friend who was always singing or laughing or telling stories, whose hands were never still but always busy about some task or gesturing eloquently to illustrate a point. This was a shell, or a carving, or perhaps a corpse... Merry couldn’t even see him breathe. He opened his mouth, but his greeting died on his lips.

 ‘Meriadoc,’ his father said sternly, but Merry shook his head.

 ‘No,’ he whispered, then tears blinded him and he turned to stumble from the room.

 ‘Let him go,’ Esmeralda said.

 ‘He doesn’t understand,’ Saradoc protested.

 ‘He understands all too well,’ his wife countered. She crossed to Ferdi, laying a hand on the lad’s shoulder. ‘Hullo, Ferdi,’ she said quietly. ‘I hope you can hear me. Merry wanted to greet you, you know, but he could not bear to see you this way.’ Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rosemary swallow hard, blink back tears, and renew her determined smile. ‘Ferdi,’ she said softly. ‘Come back to us, lad. Do not leave your sister alone in the world. She needs you.’

There was no sign that he heard her, but Esmeralda patted his shoulder and smiled. ‘There’s a lad,’ she said. ‘You think it over. I’ll come back to see you on the morrow.’ She smiled at Rosemary. ‘You take good care of him,’ she said.

 ‘I will,’ Rosemary answered, lifting her chin. Pearl took her free hand and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. She didn’t trust her voice, to say any more at the moment.

 ‘You take care of yourself as well,’ Esmeralda said. ‘Don’t get so busy feeding your brother that you forget to eat. He’ll never forgive himself if you neglect your own needs.’ Rosemary nodded, then taking a tighter grip on Ferdi’s hand, she began to sing.

Bittersweet rose from her chair and ushered Pearl and the Brandybucks out, back to the pleasant sitting-room. Merry was nowhere to be seen.

 ‘How long?’ Saradoc said.

 ‘He’s been like this ever since they brought him here; that’s when I first saw him,’ Bittersweet answered. ‘I’m told that he was in this state from the time they pulled him from the Water. At first they thought it was shock, but he never came out of it.’

 ‘No,’ Saradoc said. ‘I meant, how much longer?’

Bittersweet shook her head. ‘I’ve known only one case like it in my lifetime of healing,’ she said. ‘I’ve read of others, of course.’ She looked to Esmeralda. ‘Begging your pardon, ma’am, but your own sister...’

 ‘Yes,’ Esmeralda said. ‘My own sister.’ She didn’t need to say any more.

  ‘When will he come out of it?’ Saradoc asked.

Bittersweet smiled sadly at him. ‘I suppose there’s always hope,’ she said, though her tone belied her words. ‘As long as there’s breath, there’s life, they say. But the usual thing, in such cases...’

 ‘What?’ Saradoc asked when she didn’t finish.

Bittersweet took a deep breath. One didn’t have to mince words with the heir to Buckland. ‘He’ll last a month, perhaps two, just as long as we’re able to keep him eating. The day will come, however, when we’ll put food in his mouth, and he’ll have forgotten how to swallow. The end will come quickly, after that.’ Pearl stifled a sob. Poor Ferdi, poor Rosemary. Poor Nell.

Saradoc tried to deny her words, even as he saw the truth in his wife’s face. So had her sister ended. Finally, he said, ‘When the end comes, let us know. We’ll come and fetch Rosemary away.’

 ‘To Buckland?’ Bittersweet said. She didn’t like the sounds of that, taking the poor child off to the wilds, to live among those Brandybucks.

 ‘No,’ Esmeralda said, easily divining the thought. She was, after all, a Took herself. ‘No, Paladin Took has offered to take her in as if she were his own daughter.’

 ‘Ah,’ Bittersweet said, satisfied. ‘Good,’ she added. ‘I’m glad to hear it. She’s a sweet lass, and so dedicated to her brother, I’m sure she’ll be lost when he finally leaves her. It’s good she’ll have a family to take the place of the one that’s gone.’