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Flames  by Lindelea

 

Ferdi could hear the singing at the bonfire, and long silences which were undoubtedly filled with storytelling, for they were punctuated by bursts of laughter or groans or cheers. His fingers kept about their business, and he hummed along with the songs that came wafting on the breeze.

A voice spoke out of the darkness. 'You really ought to add your voice to the songs.' Ferdi looked up to see a dark shape silhouetted against the stars.

'Hullo, Pip,' he said politely. 'I'm surprised you're not in the thick of it.'

The other laughed and crouched down beside him. 'I was, but Hilly told me that Tolly'd seen you, so I came searching.'

'Very kind of you,' Ferdi said. 'And now you've seen me, and you can go back to the fun.'

'Not half the fun, when I think of you sitting here alone in the dark.'

Ferdi said, 'I'm fine, cousin, don't mind about me.'

'But I do mind about you, terribly, cousin!' Pippin's laugh rang out. 'You're always burying yourself off in a dusty corner somewhere, I've hardly seen you for months, and you used to be such fun! Regi tells me you buried yourself for the last month in the Woody End, I imagine you nearly died of boredom, naught but trees about and hardly a pretty lass to be seen...'

'O I managed to pull through somehow,' Ferdi said.

'Well, I'm not going to let you sit here in the dark any longer,' Pippin said. 'You've a fine voice to add to the singing, and you know the Thain never lets anything go to waste.'

Except his son, perhaps, Ferdi thought, but did not voice.

'Come along,' Pippin said mischievously, 'or do I have to pull you by your ear?'

'You've had plenty of experience with that yourself,' Ferdi said coolly, 'the number of times the cooks have caught you at mischief in the kitchens.'

Pippin laughed heartily again, then subsided. 'Please, cousin?' he said more quietly.

Ferdi knew he would wheedle until he got his own way, spoilt as he was by his mother and sisters, and he was suddenly too tired to continue the conversation. 'Just a moment,' he responded, and by feel he carefully put his tools away and laid down the shaft he'd been working on, shoving all safely beneath the waggon where it wouldn't be stepped upon in the dark.

He'd expected his young cousin to chatter away as they walked towards the bonfire, but Pippin was oddly silent, for him, and Ferdi was finally prompted to ask, 'Is somewhat amiss?'

He heard the other sigh, then Pippin said slowly, 'It's Merry.' But he did not add any more.

Ferdi worked to keep the edge from his voice as he replied, 'Well, what d'you expect? He lost his bride on his wedding eve, scarcely a month agone, and you think he ought to be singing and laughing at stories?'

'He wouldn't even come to the bonfire,' Pippin said, frustration in his tone.

'So that's why you came a-badgering me?' Ferdi asked. Pippin must be desperate, indeed for a companion, scraping at the bottom of the cask to be searching out Ferdibrand, whom he'd hardly had a word for all these months. However, Ferdi was hardly of a mind to laugh at his cousin's jokes, or tell him how clever he was. Ah, well, he'd pay his due and then Pippin would leave him alone again.

He stiffened as the bonfire came into view, but forced himself to keep pace with the other. Laughter broke out, another comical story had reached a successful end, and then Hilly was saying, 'There you are, cousin! We'd missed you! And who's this...? Ferdi?' The last spoken softly, in some wonder, for Ferdibrand was never to be found near a fire of any kind, if he could help it.

'Hullo, Hilly,' Ferdi said. 'How have you been keeping?'

'Well,' Hilly answered, 'Very well indeed,' he added.

Pippin laughed. 'I do believe there's a certain lass who'd agree with you,' he teased, and by the light of the bonfire, Ferdi saw Hilly pull his lips tight in annoyance.

'How're things in the Woody End?' Hilly said, ignoring the comment, and Ferdi hastened to answer.

'Woody. Still as many trees as ever, for try as they might the ruffians could not cut them all down, and more seem to spring up each year.'

'Trees'll do that,' Hilly said dryly. Pippin was about to interject his own comment when a call went up.

'Where's Pip? It's his turn to tell the tale! Pippin!'

The son of the Thain grinned and bowed to his cousins. 'My adoring listeners await,' he said. 'I shall return in a trice.'

'Don't trip all over your legs in your hurry,' Ferdi muttered, but of course the other was already gone. Ferdibrand started to turn away, but Hilly caught at him.

'Stay,' the other said. 'You're already here. Sing with us, listen to a few stories, I'll even buy you a mug. It's been too long since we were able to drag you out of your haunts.'

'Very well,' Ferdi nodded. Hilly and Tolly, and Everard Took, had not let him completely bury himself, after all. 'Where's Ev'ard, anyhow?'

'Rounding up mugs of something or other,' Hilly said. 'You can have Pip's, he won't need it. Half a dozen mugs will be pressed into his hands when he finishes his story, anyhow.'

'Well, I wouldn't want Pip's mug to go to waste,' Ferdi said agreeably, and when Everard came up, hands full of beer, he rescued the neglected mug very bravely indeed.

Pippin was telling some unbelievable tale about Men and orcs and trolls and a great battle somewheres that he claimed to have been in the midst of. There were great Ohs and Ahs, and as he began to listen, Ferdi was drawn into the tale, seeing the sights, smelling the smells, hearing the sounds, and feeling the cramp of fear in his belly as the Black Gate opened and the horde of terrible creatures poured forth.

He could see clearly in his mind's eye the tall trolls, four hobbits high, bearing down upon him and the tall, grim Men surrounding him, he fell back as a great hammer beat down upon the shield of the friend by his side... (a part of Ferdi wondered at that. Friend? Pippin could call one of those great oafs "Friend"? The only good ruffian Ferdi knew of was a dead one.)

The troll beat down the tall guardsman of Gondor, then lifted the helpless Man in its claws, to bite out his throat. With a cry of grief and rage, the hobbit sprang forward, bright sword glittering as he thrust it deep into the belly that towered above him, and then, the creature came crashing down upon him, burying him in black blood and stench and crushing pain...

'And then what?' several voices clamoured, when Pippin paused. Even Ferdi had been drawn in, and now he found himself taking a deep breath, to make up for all the breaths he hadn't taken as the story reached its climax.

'And then I died, of course,' Pippin said mischievously. 'For how could a hobbit live, crushed beneath one of those great trolls?'

There was a moment of stunned silence, then a great laugh rang out, building higher. The Thain slapped his son on the back, laughing uproariously, and as the hilarity began to die away, several mugs were shoved at the son of the Thain, and he grinned, quaffing one quickly, before handing the others to nearby relations and taking the last for himself, to sip more slowly.

'Some story,' Hilly said beside Ferdibrand.

'Aye,' Ferdi said. 'He's got the gift of a tongue, all right.'

Everard cast him a sharp glance in the firelight. 'And naught much else, you're thinking,' he muttered.

Ferdi answered softly, 'I'm not the one who said it.' He drained his mug and handed it back to Everard with thanks. 'I think I'll take myself off again,' he said. 'Looks as if Pip is no longer in need of my company.'





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