Chapter Four - Degger in Demand

“Hullo, Master Pippin,” Degger paused in his gardening to address the teenaged hobbit walking by. “Lovely afternoon for a walk in the garden, eh?”

“Hullo, Degger,” Pippin replied. He had decided to take a stroll through the north garden to try sorting things out in his head and almost missed his friend addressing him. Pippin noticed the wheelbarrow standing off to the side as Degger threw clippings and weeds into it. He stooped to lend the tween a helping hand.

Degger pulled off one glove, wiping the sweat away from his brow before he quickly crouching down and overtaking Pippin in cleaning up the refuse on the ground. “You don’t have to do that, you know. I was just makin’ a comment about the day. You looked like you were walkin’ in a fog.”

“I don’t mind, Degger,” answered Pippin. “I suppose I was walking in a fog. I have some matters on my mind.” He stepped up to the filled wheelbarrow and lifted it by the handles while Degger picked up the last few remnants of clippings.

Degger pointed towards the farthest end of the field, “These go over to the burn pit over there.” He walked alongside the wheelbarrow in silence until he ventured a question. “What sort of matters are on your mind--if you don’t mind me bein’ so bold?”

Pippin chuckled, “Being bold has never stopped you before.” When he perceived he said yet again another hurtful remark, he added, “but I meant it in a good way, Degger. I like you that way; you speak your mind. All good friends do that.”

Degger always smiled when Pippin referred to him as a friend. “Well,” he said, “sometimes I tend to forget my place.”

“What place?” demanded Pippin. He knew that social status was a part of hobbit life, but it incensed him that certain members of his family lorded their own status over that of the servants. “Who was it this time?” he asked. “Let me guess--Ferdibrand? His sister, Saffron? Or was it one of the Chubb cousins this time?” There was an uncomfortable silence between the friends as they approached the burn pit. “I’m sorry Degger. I get angry when my cousins think themselves above all others. I love them, but they can sometimes be snobs.”

“They mean well, Master Pippin.”

“They mean well for themselves, Degger,” Pippin countered. He looked around them and continued, “When it’s just us, Degger, please drop the ‘Master’, all right?” Pippin thought Degger was one of the most thoughtful people he knew--besides that of Merry and his own family. Then an idea sprang into his head. “Degger, I’ll tell you what is on my mind if you do one tiny, little favor for me.”

Always eager to help, Degger asked, “What is that?”

Pippin proceeded to tell about the day’s events; about his, Merry, and Merimas’ unpleasant scene in Tuckborough with Mirto Boffin. Then he ended his speech with his request, “Why don’t you take my sister to the birthday party, Degger?”

Degger’s jaw gaped open. “That’s not a ‘tiny, little favor’, you know! I can’t do that! You know well that your family would throw out me on my ear for my cheek--and that’s after your father or sister were to even consider me.”

Pippin set down the barrow at the designated burn pile. “They wouldn’t if I tell my father ahead of time what I plan. At least think about it, please? I hate the thought of my sister being escorted by that Mirto.”

The tweenager sighed. How did he let himself get muddled into another of Pippin’s schemes? “I’ll think about it, and that’s that.”

~ ~ ~

In the meantime, inside the Smials within the Thain’s office stood a lad of twenty-four years old. A little nervous perhaps, but after what he had been through this morning, he figured he could get past this. “Sir, I’m here to inquire about your daughter, Pervinca.”

“You are?” Paladin acted coy, though he had been waiting for this appointment all day. “Come in, lad, and sit down.” He stood up, offering his hand to the tween.

Mirto shook Paladin’s hand then sat down in the chair opposite the ominous desk. He gazed about the room; at the red drapes, marvelous tapestries, the brass chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Mirto could not forget that he was actually sitting in the Thain’s study. Mister Paladin was not yet the Thain, but everyone knew by now that it was inevitable. Thain Ferumbras III was ninety-years-old. There would be no bride for him now.

Paladin sat in the large chair enjoying the smell and the feel of the supple leather. It was one of the perks of office that he would one day enjoy on a regular basis. For now, he merely spent a few hours each day in training with cousin Ferumbras. The rest of his time was spent in his own study.

Intimidation was the effect Paladin was looking for. He got up from his comfortable seat, walked around to the other side where Mirto sat and leaned on the edge of his desk. He held his hand out to the silver platter with matching silver carafe, he asked, “Would you care for a cup of tea? It has the flavor of blackberries in it. It’s my precious, precious daughter’s favorite.”

Somehow, Mirto got the feeling that this would be a long appointment.

~ ~ ~

Midsummer had passed a few weeks ago, yet the summer air seemed to be more heavier than usual to Degger. As he came in from working in the garden, he felt his throat was parched and decided to stop at the kitchens to bring a fresh pitcher of cool water with him to his quarters. He smiled when he recalled how he got to where he was as the Smials’ Gardener.

When Mister Took came to live at Great Smials, he appointed Degger as a personal family servant, and gave him his own quarters--all at the tender age of eighteen. He remembered how Mister Took cut his work hours in half--still giving him the same wages, then Mister Took used the idle hours to further school Degger in his letters and numbers. Degger’s own family, except for his sister, had perished by unfortunate accidents and circumstance, but it seemed to Degger that he got a new family in return. Not a replacement family, but another family who cared for him just as much. Even Master Merry was good to him--another lad who was apparently a ‘stray child’ that Mister Took had taken under his care.

Degger stopped pumping the water when it was more than halfway to the top of the pitcher. He allowed the remaining water to trickle into the container before pulling it away from under the spout. He turned around and nearly dropped the pitcher in his hands. Degger thought he was alone in the kitchen, but somehow Merry had come in unannounced. “Master Merry,” he said, putting a hand to his thumping chest, “you gave me a start! I didn’t know you were in the kitchen.”

“Sorry, Degger,” Merry answered. He looked around the kitchen; satisfied no other staff were around, he whispered, “When it’s just you and I, you can just call me Merry, all right?” Then he scooped up several biscuits that were cooling on the table and walked with Degger out into the hallway. “Mind if I talk to you in your quarters, Degger?”

This took Degger by surprise; rarely did anyone want to visit him inside his quarters. “Of course.” After a few twists and turns of the hallway they reached his room. Once inside, Merry noticed it was well kept. No books lay open on the desk, or clothes scattered on the floor as in Pippin’s room. Books were placed neatly on the bookshelf while the floor was spotless. The only furniture that Degger maintained in his room was a bed, wardrobe, bureau, and a table with two brass lanterns.

“Care for water?” Degger set the full pitcher on the table and offered Merry a glass of water, then poured himself one.

“Thank you,” said Merry, taking the glass. He needed a bit of water to wash down his pilfered biscuits. He gratefully drank the refreshment and then proceeded with his discussion. “Degger, there comes a time in a lad’s life…,” he stopped. That sounded too drastic. He started again, “Degger, sometimes a lad…,” he stopped again. That was not what he wanted to say, either. As there was no other way to ask, he came right out with it. “Degger, why don’t you ask Uncle Paladin to take Pervinca to the birthday party?”

Degger choked on his water, spraying it atop the table. Merry got up and patted his friend’s back as Degger regained control of his wind pipe. Degger wiped away the tears from choking, then said hoarsely, “That’s just it, Merry. Mister Took is your uncle, not mine. He’s my benefactor and that’s all. I’ve just been over this with Master Pippin.”

“Really?” Merry raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Pippin asked you the same question?”

“Yes, when we were takin’ the garden refuse out to the burn pit. It seems you two think alike.” Degger felt weary and laid his head in his hands. “I can’t, Merry. I’m not of an important family like you and Pippin. Pervinca’s a fine lass and she doesn’t deserve to be laughed out of Tookland because her first escort was her gardener. I don’t reckon that I ought be the one to escort her, Merry.”

Merry sighed, “I don’t agree with your reasoning, Degger, but I understand how you might feel. Would you think about it, though?”

When he came in from working in the gardens, Degger felt tired. Now after this difficult discussion, he felt absolutely drained. “I will think about it, Merry, but I make no promises.”

~ ~ ~

WHACK!

Mirto jumped in his seat when Paladin swung the flat of the sword onto his desk. “That is what Bandobras did to heads of those foul orcs who tried to take over the Shire!” Paladin leaned in close to the tween, his finger tapping the sharp, pointed end. “A fine sword, don’t you think? I just had the smithy whet it. It is a shame that it must hang up on the wall. But one never knows if he should be called upon to protect his family, or his…daughter.” He watched the lad swallow hard and smiled to himself. He then turned his back on the tween as he stepped onto the chair, replacing the sword over the mantelpiece. “But I won’t have to worry about that with you, will I lad?” Paladin heard no response. When he got down from the chair he turned back round…and found the chair empty.