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Flames  by Lindelea

Ferdibrand wakened at the sound of a spoon clinking against the side of a cup. He opened his eyes to see... Pervinca, her back to him, fixing him a cup of tea.

It would be difficult, but he would try to let her down easily, telling her he had decided to leave the Smials, go to Woody End. Wondering what Pippin had told her, he cleared his throat. 'Vinca, I...'

She turned, and Ferdi stopped, stunned. 'Pimpernel?'

She smiled and brought him his tea. 'What was that you were saying?' she asked.

'I...' Ferdi stopped. 'Pippin said his sister would be bringing me second breakfast.'

'Yes,' Pimpernel said. 'This is true. I am his sister, or I was the last time I looked.' Her brow wrinkled as she regarded him. 'Are you feeling all right, Ferdi? Is your head aching?'

As a matter of fact, it was, but that was beside the point.

'Pip said...' Ferdi stumbled over the words, his confusion growing, 'he said... his unmarried sister, who was in need of a husband...'

'Did he say that?' Pimpernel asked, torn between amusement and irritation.

'Not in so many words,' Ferdi said hastily, 'but...'

'Odo gave us his blessing,' she answered irrelevantly.

'I...' Ferdi said, then blinked. 'What?'

'Odovacar said that we would not dishonour his brother's memory, should we choose to marry,' Pimpernel said, her tone growing more confident, even as her hand trembled enough to spill the tea she held. Absently, she put the cup down.

'Pippin said...' Ferdi breathed. Then somehow, Pimpernel was perched on the edge of the bed, and his arms were around her in a great hug, even the bad one in its splints and wrappings, and then he put her back and looked into her face. 'O Nell,' he whispered. 'Is it possible?' He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips.

Thus Hilly found them as he tapped and entered, sitting close, Ferdi softly kissing Pimpernel's fingertips.

Scandalised, he started to leave in confusion, but Ferdi stopped him. 'Cousin, be the first to congratulate us!'

'What?' he snapped.

'There's a wedding in the offing,' Pimpernel said with a grin. 'When was it to be, dearest?' she asked Ferdi.

'We hadn't got quite that far, yet. How about today?' She gave him a push, and he said. 'O all right, you name the date. Tomorrow?'

Pimpernel laughed. 'It takes a little bit of time to do things properly... the tournament is next month, and then comes harvest, and everyone will be too busy to enjoy themselves.'

Ferdi sighed. 'After harvest, then, I suppose.'

'That's a good time for a wedding,' Hilly said, as if in a dream. 'Well, I must be going.' He wandered out, quite forgetting why he had come to see Ferdi in the first place.

'What I don't understand is...' Ferdi began, and stopped.

'What is it?' Pimpernel said gently. 'Your head is aching, I can see it in your eyes. Lie back down, let me soothe your forehead.' He obeyed, and her fingers gently moved back and forth over his brow. 'Now, tell me what is troubling you.'

'I cannot understand why Pip...' he said, and told her of the trick the Thain had pulled. 'Why would he make me think he was sending Pervinca?'

'Did he say "Pervinca"?' she asked reasonably.

'Well no, but...' Ferdi said.

'And what would you have said, if he had told you he was giving his blessing to our union?'

'I would have told him he was daft,' Ferdi admitted. 'He couldn't very well give his blessing when I hadn't asked for your hand.'

'And you, bound by tradition, would never have done that,' Pimpernel said softly.

'No,' Ferdi said. 'I never would.'

'That Pip, he's a devious one,' Pimpernel said with a grin.

Ferdi opened one eye, 'That he is,' he agreed. 'Always up to some trick or other.' He sighed and closed his eyes as the fingers soothed and swirled, and soon, he slept again.

***

The next morning, Ferdi sat at early breakfast in the great room, for Woodruff had finally grudgingly allowed him to leave his bed, provided he ate well and rested often.

He ate his eggs and fried bread and delicately browned potato chunks with just the right amount of onion, but was stymied by the piece of ham. He had just started to push the plate away when a voice spoke behind him. 'Here, let me.'

Fatty Bolger pulled Ferdi's plate over and quickly cut up the meat. 'There you are,' he said. 'A bit awkward, with one arm in a sling. Surprised the server didn't see to it for you.'

'It's early yet, they're probably not completely awake,' Ferdi said. Fatty pulled out the chair next to him and sat down, accepting with thanks his own plate of breakfast from a server. Ferdibrand wondered what the other wanted. He'd hardly seen Fatty since the disastrous fire so many years ago, that had turned his family from gentlehobbits into beggars; once, perhaps, at his mother's burial, his mother being Odovacar's sister, and again at Rudivacar's burial, but other than that...

'I hear there's a wedding in your future,' Fatty said quietly.

'News travels fast,' Ferdi commented.

'Ah, you know how it is with the talk. By the way,' Fatty said, changing the subject, 'I wish to apologise for putting you through that hearing. Woodruff told me in no uncertain terms what she thought of me, after she got you back to your bed. I simply thought that if I were the one being talked about, I'd want to be there.'

'You had the right of it,' Ferdi said, spearing a piece of ham. 'I appreciate what you did, even if I was out of my head for the last bit.'

Fatty nodded, his mouth full of ham and eggs. Clearing his mouth with a swig of tea, the Bolger spoke again.

'You know, Aunt Nell is a good sort. I'm that fond of her,' he said.

Ferdi nodded.

'I want what is right for her, you understand?'

'Do you have a point?' Ferdi asked, keeping his tone polite. He glanced at the other, arrested by the shrewd eyes in the fat, sleepy-looking face.

'As a matter of fact, I do,' Fatty said. 'It is almost unheard-of, for a hobbit to marry again. Yet here she is, and here you are...'

When Ferdi didn't answer, he went on. 'My father tells me there was a previous agreement between the two of you, which old Paladin dissolved when Uncle Rudivacar asked for her hand.'

'There was nothing that formal,' Ferdi said, after a sip of his own tea. 'I was the son of a beggar, living off the charity of the Thain, and she was the Thain's daughter.'

Shocked, Fatty said, 'Your father came of good family, descended from Gerontius, the Old Took himself!'

'I do not dishonour his memory,' Ferdi said quietly. 'He would have been the first to point out his situation. He lost everything in the fire, and the few ponies rescued were sold to pay his debts.' He met Fatty's gaze. 'Your own father bought them, as you might recall, perhaps out of pity for his sister's husband.'

'Yes, and he gave you Dapple, out of your father's lines, when you reached your majority,' Fatty said slowly. 'I wanted her myself, but he said...' he shook his head. 'It doesn't matter now.' The keen eyes locked with Ferdi's. 'What I want to know, is this: What are your feelings towards Pimpernel?'

Ferdi was silent for a long moment, meeting the other's gaze. Finally, he said simply, 'She is the air I breathe.'

 Fatty nodded slowly. 'All right, then,' he said. 'You have my blessing, whether you need it... or not.' He rose ponderously from the table. 'Grace go with you, Ferdi. I shall see you at the wedding.'





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