CHAPTER 39

Sam looked at the finery laid out upon the bed; his fancy clothes from Minas Tirith, that he had not worn since coming home. And after tonight, he’d wear them only for his wedding day. He ran a hand over the rich wine-colored velvet coat, and thought he would trade it in a heartbeat for the sturdy brown wool jacket he had left behind in Mordor, that Mr. Frodo had given him before they left the Shire. Tears stung his eyes, and he blinked. No time for that kind of nonsense now.

There came a knock on the door, and he went to open it. There stood Mr. Frodo. He was clad in his own finery, dark grey velvet coat and breeches, the silk collar and cuffs of his shirt white as the blooms of the White Tree, his Lórien cloak over his arm. Sam thought his master looked like a small Elven Prince, except for his dark curls. Sam had never seen an Elf with curls.

“Hullo, Sam, I wondered if you needed any help getting ready?”

“No, Mr. Frodo, I was just making a start. It’s good to see you looking so well.”

Frodo knew that Sam meant “it was good to see him, period.” He had been rather keeping to himself for the last few days. He had agreed to this, but it wasn’t easy. He kept reminding himself of Saradoc’s words. They deserved to show their gratitude. This would help Aragorn. This would help Sam and Rosie. He looked at Sam’s expectant face, and said “Thank you, Sam. And I am feeling quite myself this evening,” almost true, that; close enough to true for Sam to be fooled, “and I am looking forward to seeing you and Rosie in your finery.” This was absolutely true.

“I’m really nervous, Mr. Frodo.”

“I know, Sam. But we went through this before, in Gondor, and more than once. Think of it as practice for the wedding.” And Frodo’s eyes sparked in amusement at the change of expression on Sam’s face as he thought of the wedding. “By the way, thank you for asking me to officiate. You know, you surprised me, as I thought you were going to ask me to stand up with you.”

“Well, so I thought of that, Mr. Frodo, but I couldn’t have you doing both, could I? It was hard to decide.”

Frodo chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

“Mr. Frodo, that wouldn’t be--” Frodo raised an eyebrow, and Sam stopped. “necessary.”

Frodo laughed. “Just get through tonight, Sam. You can go back to saying it tomorrow.” Really, he should challenge Sam more often. Watching him evade Merry and Pippin and their verbal traps all week had been most amusing.

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Bergil had helped Pippin into his livery and armor. Now Pippin was helping him.

“Do you think I will do all right, Pippin?” Bergil was beginning to feel more than a little nervous about singing in front of all those hobbits.

“You will do fine, Bergil. I have heard you sing before, and in the court of the King yet. Do not let a bunch of hobbits intimidate you.” He turned the lad around, brushed off the back of the black silk surcoat, and gave a little tug to straighten it. He turned him back around and looked up into the serious grey eyes. “I am very proud of you Bergil. I wish your father could see you now--he would be very impressed.”

Bergil grinned at the praise. “Thank you, Sir Pippin.”

Pippin laughed. He loved the way Bergil mixed his title with his nickname. No one else called him “Sir Pippin”. “All right, off with you lad, to find my cousin Reggie. He’s going to need your help.”

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Really, thought Reggie, this Ball was having the oddest effect on his wife. She had been uncharacteristically quiet and uncomplaining all evening.

But he was sure it was not so much the Ball as it was the way Eglantine had come down on their daughters for their rudeness to Legolas. Hyacinth had never thought the Thain’s wife would take action. She had always underestimated Eglantine.

Once he had loved her, before he found out her true nature. He remembered to the minute when his love had died: it was right after Peregrin was born. The joy the Tooks had all felt over Paladin at last having a male child was overshadowed by the babe’s being born too soon.

“He may yet die,” she had said, her voice and her eyes cold as winter. And he knew in that instant that she had never loved him, but had wed him in hopes of one day being the Thain’s lady. She was expecting Opal at the time, but from that day forward, he had found her repulsive, and he had never touched her as her husband again.

She never understood what had turned him away from her, but became shrewish and bitter instead; he had tried to love his daughters in spite of her, but they had picked up her attitude, and had no respect for him at all.

He smiled to himself at one secret she had never known. When Pippin was gone, and Paladin had declared him dead, Hyacinth had been gleeful. Reggie knew then that if he ever became Thain, she would be a totally unsuitable wife. He had gone to Paladin, and made him promise to overlook him and make his brother Everard his heir instead. Paladin had done so, but when Peregrin returned, they were both relieved.

And now all was working out for the best: Pippin and Merry had returned, matured and wise after their journey, and looking to be someday the best Master and Thain the Shire had ever seen.

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Merry pulled down the sleeves of his undertunic and brushed down the front of his surcoat; the rich green velvet set off the device of the running horse. He took up the embroidered gloves and pulled them on, and then looked at his helm. No, this was a Ball, no need for sword or helm. There would be different weapons altogether unsheathed tonight: malicious tongues and unbridled ambition.

Still, he was quite looking forward to this. Dances with Estella. *Many* dances with Estella. She had said. He grinned.

He took up his Elven cloak and brooch. Legolas had seemed to feel it important that all of the Walkers wear their cloaks when they made their entrance, though of course they would have to doff them before any dancing. And being a prince, Legolas was aware of all the subtle advantages of symbols.

Time to find his cousins, and get the show started.

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Legolas knocked on Gimli’s door. “Are you ready yet, Gimli?”

The Dwarf flung open the door. “Aye, laddie. Ready to get this nonsense done and over.”

Gimli was resplendent in an outfit of deep brown wool, no armor tonight, but he wore a collar of intricately linked mail, and had his cloak over his arm. The crystal with the Lady’s gift hung from a chain of mithril around his neck.

“You look very nice,” said Legolas truthfully.

“And you look very pretty,” said Gimli wryly.

Legolas was clad in formal Elven robes of leaf-green, embroidered in silver patterns of oak leaves. He already had his cloak on, flung back from his shoulders. He had drawn about him his royal air, and seemed indeed the very prince of Elves that he was.

“You will certainly strike any number of hobbit lasses dumb tonight.”

“I hope so.” Legolas shuddered, remembering Pippin’s repulsive cousins. Thank goodness his mother and sisters were sensible sorts.

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Pearl helped Marigold adjust her sash and arrange her curls, and then tied a velvet ribbon that matched the sash about her neck.

“You look lovely, my dear!” she gestured towards the looking glass.

Sam’s sister widened her eyes in surprise at the sight of her reflection. She wore a gown of butter yellow, with short puffy sleeves and a high waist. The sash was of a deep golden brown color, and finished at the back in a great bow. The neckline was scooped out a little deeper than Mari thought was exactly proper, but it was edged with creamy lace, as was the hem of the dress. “Oh my!” she blushed becomingly to see herself so.

Rosie laughed; “Oh, if Tom could only see you! He’s going to be so jealous when I tell him how beautiful you were tonight!”

“Well, he will see it, won’t he?” said Marigold. For Pimpernel had insisted that the lasses must keep their Ball dresses, and she and Rosie had decided they would make perfect wedding gowns.

“Now for Rose.” Pearl took down the dress they had chosen for Rose, and lifted it over her head. Rosie’s dress was a pale pink, of a very similar style to the one Marigold wore, save it had no lace at the neckline. The sash was new, of a deep wine colored velvet, for Pearl had pried Frodo loose long enough to find out what color Sam would be wearing. Around her neck Rose wore the Royal gift. She looked in the mirror, and blushed to see it set off by such a wide expanse of bosom.

Pearl laughed. “Really, Rose, this is quite modest for a ball gown. Many of the lasses will be showing far more bosom than you two.” Pearl’s own gown was more suitable for her status as a widow; of dove-grey, and she wore a silk scarf tucked into the neck, and a short-waisted long-sleeved jacket

Just then there was a knock at the door. Pearl cracked it open enough to peek out. “Ah, Cousin Fredegar! Marigold, your escort is here!”

For Freddy was to take Marigold in with the rest of the regular guests, as she was not being announced. Pearl opened the door, and Freddy’s eyes widened. “Miss Marigold! It’s a good thing that your brother already warned me off, for I would otherwise be sorely tempted to try and steal you away from your betrothed.” But his smile was friendly as he said it.

“Well, thank you for the compliment, Mr. Freddy, but I don’t think Tom would give in so easily.”

“I know that very well, Miss Marigold. Tom and Jolly were two of my stoutest lads in the Troubles. I should not dare to get on his bad side.” He offered his arm. “Shall we go? They are already beginning to gather in the ballroom.”

She turned and gave Rose a brief hug. “Bye, Rosie. I’ll see you in a little while.” She smiled at Pearl. “Thank you, Mistress Pearl.”

“Not at all, dear. Go have a lovely time.” And Marigold went out.

“Now, Rose, let’s see about arranging those pretty curls of yours. I have a bit of ribbon here--”

Only a few moments later came another knock on the door. Again, Pearl cracked the door, and this time it was Frodo and Sam. She opened it wider to reveal Rosie standing there as beautiful as the flower for which she was named.

Sam took one look, and said “Oh.” The two of them stood there and fairly glowed at one another. Sam had tears in his eyes.

Frodo and Pearl exchanged amused looks. Frodo gave a discreet cough. “Sam? Rose? They are waiting for us.”

Sam offered Rose his arm, and she took it without her eyes ever leaving his face.

Frodo followed, grateful that Sam, at least, would be fine this evening. As long as he had Rose by his side, he wouldn’t care *what* they called him; he probably wouldn’t even hear it.

Pearl watched the three head up the passage. She blew out the lamp, closed the door, and made her way to the ballroom. She wondered how her parents were doing.

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Paladin shrugged into his jacket, and Eglantine brushed it down in the back. She reached up and straightened his collar. “There,” she said in satisfaction.

Her husband looked down at her proudly. “You are beautiful as ever.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Indeed she did look lovely. Her dress was pale blue, with elbow length full sleeves. The neckline was filled in with a silky lace scarf, fastened by a brooch set a large sapphire. On her wrist she wore the bracelet Pippin had brought her from his travels, each charm representing one of her children.

“It will be strange not to go first after all these years.”

He smiled and kissed her brow. “At least we are still ahead of the Master and my sister.”

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Esmeralda was making her own last minute adjustments to her husband. She patted his tummy. “I should have moved that button over, dear. If you eat more than a bite, your jacket will be too snug.”

“I plan to eat more than a bite, and if needs be, I shall unfasten my buttons.”

She laughed. “You rascal. You would, too!”

“Quite right.” He stood back to get a good look at her. “My word, lass! I am torn between admiration and jealousy!”

“Flatterer! I’ve not been a lass for many a year.”

“You’d never know it by that dress!”

The dress was certainly not that of the usual hobbit matron. In cut and style it was very like the dress Rose wore, though of a springtime green that brought out her Tookish eyes, and played up the reddish highlights of her chestnut curls, only lightly touched by frost even at her age. And she had not filled in the bosom with a scarf, either, but proudly displayed the magnificent emerald pendant her son had brought home to her from his journey.

Saradoc growled. “They had better keep their eyes on your face.”

“Silly goose! You know you like to show me off.” She laughed and took his arm. “Come on, let us go trail behind my brother once more.”

“Well, we shan’t be last at any rate. That honor goes to the envoys.”

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In the Men’s encampment, Targon and Éothain made one more inspection of their companies. All of them gleamed in their armor and livery.

“Danulf,” said Éothain, “we will see you at the end of the evening. I am sorry you will miss the festivities, but someone had to take this watch.”

“I drew the short straw. But I do not think I will miss much. These lasses are a bit short to be dancing with the likes of me.”

They all laughed. “I will bring you a bit of cake,” said Anwynd, only half joking.

“Luck be with you,” said Danulf, as the Men marched away toward the Great Smials. He doffed his helm and sat down by the fire to begin his watch. Truth be told, he thought he might enjoy the peace and quiet. He had not really been alone for months.

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In the ballroom most of the other guests had gathered. They were waiting and wondering when the Thain would make his entrance and get the festivities underway.

The few who knew more or less what to expect found themselves watching certain people with a smug air. Pearl found her sisters and their husbands, standing near one of the sideboards, and went over to them.

Estella saw her brother enter with Marigold Gamgee, and went over to them. “Miss Marigold, you look marvelous!”

“So do you, Miss Estella!”

Hyacinth stood nervously by her two older daughters. She was frightened to death. What would they do to Opal tomorrow? If only she were able to confide in Reggie. But somehow she had long ago lost any chance at that.

Clodio Banks looked about him in dissatisfaction. Most everyone he had sounded out seemed well-disposed to what they had heard from the Men. If he were going to sink the agreement, he had an uphill battle. Maybe something would go wrong tonight, anything. He had no desire to be found out as one of Lotho’s collaborators.

There was a stir at the top of the staircase. Maybe things were about to start.

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On the portico, everyone had assumed their proper positions. Bergil and Reginard drew deep breaths. Pippin murmured a quiet assurance to the lad that he’d do fine.

Bergil walked out onto the landing.

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