CHAPTER 38

In the year of Shire Reckoning 1230, Gerontius Took, who later became the famous “Old Took”, married Adamanta Chubb, a well-known beauty of the East Farthing, a very lively lass and fond of dancing. In 1232, to celebrate the birth of their first son Isengrim III, he built her a ballroom, the first and only one of its kind in the Shire.

To build the room, he had the entire southwest wing of the Great Smials gutted. It was a splendid place, easily large enough for up to four hundred dancing hobbits, with ceilings nearly twenty feet high. A long shallow staircase led down into the room from its entrance on the eastern side of the space. There was a covered overhang between the southwest wing and the southeast wing, from which entry could be made without going through the Smials. On the south wall of the room was a set of four large double doors that could be entirely removed, which led out to a terraced slope and down to the south garden. A door on the east side led into a separate kitchen. On the west side was a small dais for the musicians to play from, and another small door led into a short passageway. On the left was a room where the musicians could take their ease between sets. On the right were two water closets.

Although it was called a ballroom, it had rarely been used for balls after Adamanta’s time. But it was not unused. Both Pearl and Pimpernel had held their weddings there, ( though not Pervinca, for she and Tanto had wed during the Troubles ) and every year at least one of the Yule parties was held there. And when nasty weather kept hobbits indoors for days at a time the space was often used to let the children play and run off excess energy.

But it was still a ballroom.

On the morning of the Ball, Eglantine stood on the landing of the staircase and looked out across the huge room. The hardwood floor shone like glass, and the windows gleamed. The half-paneling smelled of polish. Even though it was barely past first breakfast, it was a hive of activity. Hobbits were setting up the sideboards for food and drink; they were putting new tapers in the sconces and in the great chandelier, which had been lowered on its chain; they were busily removing the doors between the ballroom and the terrace. Everything that needed doing was being done. She took a deep breath of satisfaction and relief.

She wondered how Reggie was getting on with his task.

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In the captains’ tent, Reginard, Paladin, Saradoc, and Legolas sat about the low table with Targon and Éothain, looking over the scrolls of introduction that had been prepared. Bergil served them with ale, and then moved away, to be available if they needed anything else.

Reggie shook his head. “I just hope that I can do justice to these introductions. This Elvish--”

“You are doing quite well with your pronunciation, Master Reginard; I do not doubt that the hobbits will be most impressed. And if you make any slight errors, there are none save Frodo and myself to notice.” Legolas was reassuring.

“Shouldn’t Frodo be here as well?”

Saradoc shook his head. “Frodo is going to find this hard enough to deal with tonight; he doesn’t need the added pressure of worrying about it all day long.”

Legolas sighed. “He will be doing that anyway, but no, he would not be comfortable watching us compose this in his honor.”

Targon looked at the Elf. “I do not understand the Ringbearer.”

“Let us just say that he does not appreciate himself as much as he ought.” There was a bit of a warning note in Legolas’ voice that perhaps the subject should be dropped.

“Now, Reggie,” said Paladin, “Bergil will hand you each scroll as the guests enter. You don’t have to memorize them at all, but make certain that you are familiar enough with them so that you will not have to hesitate.”

“I understand that, Paladin.” He looked at Targon again. “You say there are people in Gondor who actually have this as a full time job?”

The Gondorian envoy looked amused. The hobbit way of looking at things. “Heralds, yes.”

Saradoc had been quiet, thinking. “You know, we need a little something to start this off, something to get everyone’s attention. Hobbits are not used to simply dropping their conversations like that.”

Targon pursed his lips, “A fanfare of some sort? But we don’t really have a trumpeter.”

Éothain looked over at Bergil, who was softly humming as he tidied the captains’ sleeping cots. “Bergil?”

“Yes sir?”

“You were at Cormallen, for the feast honoring the Ringbearers, were you not?”

“Yes I was.” The lad’s eyes shone. The memory of that grand day was one of the highlights of his young life.

“Do you remember the song of praise for the Ringbearers?”

Targon grinned, and looked approvingly at the horse-lord. “Let us hear it then.”

Shrugging, Bergil piped up in a sweet clear boyish treble:

Long live the halflings! Praise them with great praise!

Cuio i Pherian anann! Aglar’ni Pheriannath!

Praise them with great praise, Frodo and Samwise!

Daur a Berhael--*

Targon interrupted. “Very good, Bergil. Do you think you can do that in front of a crowd, for the sake of our Ringbearers?”

And all around the table, the plotters grinned at one another.

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Sam knocked on the door to Rose’s and Marigold’s room. When Rose answered it, he did not even have to ask; the trouble was writ plain on her face.

“I’m going to have to tell Mr. Pippin, Rosie, unless you’d rather tell his mother yourself?”

“Oh no, Sam! Please, I never could, not after she’s been so nice and all!”

He put a little kiss on top of her head. “It has to be, Rosie-love, for this is serious.”

In general, “pilfering” was regarded rather lightly among hobbits. The raiding of gardens or larders by lads ( and the occasional bold lass ) in their teens and tweens was conceded a normal, if annoying, pastime. The lifting of some useless mathom or other as a prank among friends was more or less tolerated. And when elderly hobbits sometimes helped themselves to shiny objects from their relatives’ homes, heads were shaken, but not much more.

But “theft” was another matter altogether. To deliberately take a valuable item from someone with the intent of keeping it or selling it was a crime punishable by law, and the name of “Thief” was one of the most despised. And to take something from a guest under the Thain’s roof was unimaginable.

Rose nodded sadly, and Sam went off to find Pippin.

After a deal of time spent wandering about the Smials and asking after him, Sam finally found Pippin giving instructions to the musicians in the ballroom. His friend soon spotted him and walked over to his side.

“Sam, you’re looking mighty serious this morning. You didn’t have a tiff with Rosie, did you?” Not that Pippin could easily imagine such a thing.

“Never!” Sam shook his head vehemently. “but it is about Rosie, more or less. You know the box her necklace from Strider and the Queen came in? It’s disappeared from her room. She noticed it gone yesterday; she and Mari have searched high and low. It’s not in there.”

Pippin blanched. There was a grim note in his voice. “Let’s go find Mother.”

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Eglantine had been so pleased that all was going well. She should have known something would go wrong. She led Sam and Pippin to her sitting room. “Pippin dear, would you please fetch Mistress Appleblossom.”

As her son went out to do her bidding, she turned to Sam. “Samwise, I am so sorry that this happened. I had hoped that your intended would have a pleasant time here with us.”

“Oh Mistress Took, she has! I know what made her sad the most was how you’d take it, seeing as you have been so kind to her and Mari. She would not have said anything if I had not made her.”

“I am glad that you did, Sam. We cannot allow such goings on here.”

Pippin came back in with the housekeeper.

“Mistress Appleblossom, could you please tell me which of your lasses has been in the room used by Miss Rose and Miss Marigold?”

“Well, Daffodil has those rooms, and this week she’s also been training the new lass, Moss Heathertoes, so them two. Oh, and Miss Opal, Mr. Reggie’s daughter you wanted me to keep busy for a few days, she took the clean linens in yesterday.”

“Where is Opal now?”

Appleblossom thought for a moment. “I believe she is emptying the chamber pots.”

“Bring her to me please. And ask someone to fetch her mother for me.”

Pippin watched his mother in amazement. He had never seen this hard side of her before, and was glad that it was not directed at him.

Sam stood by, looking as miserable as he felt. He wished he were anywhere--up to and including the Black Land--than here, bringing trouble to his friend’s family.

Pippin reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Sam.”

Eglantine turned to look back at them, and her grim face softened. “Indeed not, Sam. I am glad you brought this to my attention. I do not like having a serpent in my nest.”

Just then the door opened and Opal entered, escorted by Mistress Appleblossom.

When the housekeeper had come to fetch her away from her disgusting task, she had at first thought that Cousin Eglantine was ready to let her out of her punishment. But one look at Eglantine’s grim face and the sight of Frodo’s gardener in the room, and she knew her impulsive act the day before had risen to haunt her. The blood drained from her face and her knees started to buckle.

“Oh no you don’t!” snapped Eglantine. “Hold her up, Mistress Appleblossom. She’ll not gain any sympathy by fainting.”

At that point, Hyacinth entered the room. “What is the meaning of this--this outrage?”

“Well you should ask, Hyacinth. Peregrin and Mistress Appleblossom will go with you to your apartments, and you will watch while they search Opal’s room, and bring what they find here.”

It was a little over fifteen minutes later when they returned, the box in Pippin’s hand, and Hyacinth weeping copiously. Pippin handed the box to his mother.

Opal stared at it in horror, and shrieked hysterically “It’s only a box! It was empty! The necklace wasn’t in it!”

Her mother glared at her. “You stupid little--”

“Silence!” Eglantine stared them down. “Peregrin, please go fetch your father.” She turned to Sam. “Samwise, please accept our deepest apologies. You may let Rose know the box is found, and will be returned to her tomorrow.”

Pippin and Sam left the room, and Sam drew a deep breath. “Whew! Mr. Pippin, your mother is something else, if you don’t mind me saying it.”

“Yes, isn’t she?” he returned proudly. “Sam, I’m so sorry this happened.”

“Well, like you said to me, ‘it’s not your fault’.”

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Paladin paced back and forth across the sitting room floor. Eglantine sat in her chair by the fireplace, and Pippin stood behind her. Opal sat in another chair weeping, and Hyacinth sat stony faced and watched the Thain.

Pippin broke the silence. “This will kill Uncle Reggie.”

“I hope not,” said Paladin. “But we cannot afford to have him upset tonight, of all nights. Too much depends on him.” He pursed his lips in thought, then turned to Hyacinth.

“Hyacinth, you will take Opal and you will lock her in her room. She may have bread and water for supper. You and your other daughters will attend the Ball as though nothing is wrong. You will not let on to Reginard in any way that something is amiss, or you will heartily regret it. Tomorrow is time enough to decide her fate.” He turned to Opal. “You, lass, are lucky that you are only twenty-nine. If you were of age, there is nothing that would stop me from marking you as a thief and banishing you from the Smials. It may come to that yet, for your abuse of my guest.” He thought a minute more. “Not only that, but the item you stole was a gift from our King. It is possible that the King’s Men might also wish to have a say in your punishment. The fact that you were attempting to steal something even *more* valuable than the box does not help you.”

He turned back to Hyacinth and looked her dead in the eye. “Remember, not a word to your husband. You have made his life miserable long enough, and I may yet take steps to remedy that, as well. Now take her away.”

He looked at Eglantine. “My dear, we have a ball in less than three hours. I think we should begin to get ready.”

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Clovis and Cado Banks were getting themselves ready for the Ball in their room at the inn.

Cado asked “Just how much trouble will Father be in?”

“More than enough.” He stopped. “Maybe we could do something to help him out. We could slip away from the Ball for a little while tonight.”

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* From The Return of the King, Book 6, Chapter 4 “The Field of Cormallen”