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Flames  by Lindelea

 

The Thain continued to ignore Ferdibrand as if he did not exist, the other Tooks cautiously recognised his existence in the Thain's absence, and Ferdi continued to live in the calm of the archer about to release his arrow. One part of his mind wryly observed that if he were to keep tension on the string, in real-life shooting, for such a long time, he would ruin his bow, or at least the string... he remembered an old story about warriors standing in the rain, bowstrings drawn for so long that the strings stretched and would not launch the arrows properly. However, he could see no other course open to him. He would not leave the Smials, so long as his father remained, and his father steadfastly refused to leave.

'I will not burden Rosemary with my care,' he said yet again, when Ferdi brought the topic up that evening. 'Many hands lighten a heavy load, and I am a heavy load, indeed.'

Ferdi's mouth twisted wryly, but he stirred the stew and lifted another spoonful to his father's mouth. After swallowing, his father said, 'I have a whole Smials-ful of Tooks to watch out after me here!' He gave his son a shrewd glance. 'And even though the Thain pretends not to see you, the Mistress makes sure I am not neglected. Why do you stay?'

Stung, Ferdi replied, 'I will not go, you know that, Father.'

Old Ferdinand sighed. 'A dutiful son,' he said. 'And what have I offered you, all these years? A lifetime of servitude to a helpless, grumbling, fat old hobbit.'

'It is not as if I wait upon your every desire, Da,' Ferdi replied imperturbably. His father threw back his head and laughed, nearly upsetting the next spoonful.

Ferdi put the spoon back into the bowl and gently wiped the tears of laughter from his father's eyes. 'You'd have done the same for Uncle Ferdi, had you been able to pull him from the fire.'

'Instead of having to be pulled out of there myself,' Old Ferdinand sighed. He shook his head. 'Ah, Ferdi,' he said, and his son knew he was not the one addressed, for his father had that faraway look in his eye. 'Whyever did you run back into the fire, for ponies. You were worth a dozen ponies to me, and more...'

'You tried to save him,' Ferdi said softly, but his father shook his head again, and when Ferdi started to lift another spoonful, he turned his face away.

'Thank you, my lad, but I don't care for anything more tonight.' Ferdi nodded and laid bowl and spoon aside, neatly folding the serviette.

'Are we finished?' an old auntie said brightly, stopping by old Ferdinand's chair.

'Thank you, Parsley,' old Ferdinand said, looking up. 'We're not quite finished, but you may take the tray.'

He nodded at his son. 'Not quite finished yet,' he said encouragingly. 'How's Dapple?'

Ferdi sat up a little straighter. 'Due to foal any day now,' he said.

Old Ferdinand snorted. 'So our Pip left you something to remember him by.'

Ferdi looked at his father quizzically. 'Remember him by?' he echoed.

His father looked him in the eye. 'He's never coming back,' he said softly. 'Would you?'

Ferdi was shaken. He realised, perhaps for the first time, that he'd been awaiting Pippin's return. Down deep somewhere, he'd counted on Pip straightening out this whole mess, taking the blame, urging the Thain to pardon Ferdi and end the shunning of his former escort.

'No,' he answered quietly, and sighed. 'No, I suppose I wouldn't.'

***

Dapple foaled, a sweet filly who was the image of her sire, smoke-grey dapples with no white markings save three small white circles on her withers.

Old Tom rubbed the little one dry with some old sacking, while Ferdi petted the mare and praised her, and soon the two hobbits had the satisfaction of watching the filly scramble to her feet and begin to nurse, tiny tail signalling satisfaction.

'Ay and she's a fine one,' Tom said in satisfaction. 'What'll you call her?'

'Thruppence seems a good name,' Ferdi said, 'though I hope she's worth more than that!'

Old Tom laughed. 'With her dam and sire, she's worth a far sight more,' he said. 'What're ye going to do with her? She's got the bloodlines to found your own stables.'

Ferdi's lips tightened. 'My da tried that,' he said shortly. 'I will keep her for my own pleasure, as long as I can afford it.'

Old Tom nodded soberly. 'If you cannot...' he said quietly, but Ferdi interrupted him.

'Let us see how well my arrows sell at the tournament,' he said, 'seeing as how I cannot race Dapple for a purse in the pony races this year.'

'I doubt the Thain would give you the purse, were she to take first place,' Old Tom warned.

Ferdi laughed. For a wonder he was not bitter; but his father had been right about bitterness. He was seeing it consuming Paladin, and he pitied the old hobbit more than he resented him. Pippin had not returned to the Smials, but an invitation had arrived inviting the Tooks to his handfasting... to Diamond of Long Cleeve. Ferdi had heard that the Thain raged and foamed and tore the paper into tiny shreds.

Ferdibrand was surprised, then, to see ponies being loaded for a journey, and once again the Thain, his wife, his sisters and their husbands, Pearl and Pervinca, and half a dozen Tooks tapped for escort duty, all mounted, to ride off into the summer morning, the day before the handfasting was to take place.

He sat quietly in his usual place against the stable wall, fingers busy, mind busy as well, wondering... had the Thain forgiven his son? His face certainly had looked grim enough, for one on the way to a happy occasion.

Reginard crossed the courtyard from the Smials and crouched down by Ferdibrand. 'How goes the work?' he said.

'Ah, so you are speaking to me?' Ferdi said, then nodded. 'Of course, the Thain's not here.'

'I am always dancing attendance upon him,' Regi said. 'You know that. I cannot speak to you in his presence; he's ordered you shunned.'

'So what's the news?' Ferdi asked. 'Going to celebrate his son's marriage to a farmer's daughter?'

Regi's lips set in a thin line. 'Going to stop it, rather,' he said.

'O?' Ferdi asked.

'It seems there was a long-standing agreement between the Tooks and the Bolgers, that Pip would marry Stell. And at this handfasting, both will be there, each being joined to the wrong hobbit. Very convenient, them both being there!' Regi said sourly. 'If Paladin can get his own way, he'll see to it that the right hands get joined together in the ceremony, and that will be more binding than any long-standing agreement.'

Ferdi nodded. A handfasting was as binding as a wedding, after all; it joined together two who were as yet too young to marry, but they were considered wed in the eyes of all other hobbits thereafter. Should one die before the wedding, the other would inherit the property, for example. The wedding that came after merely set the seal on the joining and served to mark the moving of the twain from their parents' holes into one of their own.

'Good luck to him, then,' Ferdi said. 'He's got the Brandybucks, the Bolgers, and the north-Tooks to deal with.'

'That never stopped him before,' Regi said. He sighed, and sat down upon the stones.

'What are you hoping for?' Ferdi asked.

'I'm hoping he succeeds,' Regi said honestly. ' 'Twould be hard knocks for Pip, of course, but Estella's a pleasant enough girl. If he would just take the lass his parents picked out for him, settle down and come back to the Smials...'

'Then your life would be a lot easier,' Ferdi said astutely. 'That's it, isn't it. You don't care a fig about Pippin.'

'He treated you very shabbily, indeed, Ferdi, and I've a bone to pick with him over that,' Reginard admitted, 'but you're wrong. It is not that I would take anyone to save me from being saddled with the Thainship, once Paladin's gone.'

'You'd still plump for Pip as Thain?' Ferdi said in amazement. 'Regi, have you gone off your head?'

'No,' Reginard said stubbornly, with a shake of his head. 'No, I stand by what I told you before. Pip's brilliant, he has all the qualities of a great Thain, for all he's young and has made a few bad choices.'

'I'm starting to have my doubts about your suitability for the office,' Ferdi said. 'You're not showing the best judgment at the moment.'

'Ah, well,' Regi sighed. 'It's all moot anyway. Pip's never coming back.'

'So you're stuck, it seems,' Ferdi said.

Regi nodded. 'That I am. I'm to be the next Thain, whether I want it or not.'

'You have my deepest sympathy,' Ferdi said, and meant it.





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