CHAPTER 60

“Are you sure that you don’t want to stay one more day, Frodo?” Pippin asked. “Some of us are going to Pincup for a picnic tomorrow, and to take Mrs. Diggle a token of appreciation for her hospitality.”

“No, I want to get back to Bag End, to help Sam with the wedding and to spend a bit of time with Legolas and Gimli.” He sighed. Things had been far more hectic in the Shire since their return than he would have liked. “So I will leave right after first breakfast in the morning. I’d leave tonight, but I don’t fancy riding in the dark.”

Pippin nodded. “I understand. Well, Merry and Freddy and I will be along in another day or so.” He was quiet for a moment. “Would you mind if Bergil came along also? He made quite a pest of himself while Merry and I were gone. He missed me a lot.” Pippin sounded a bit surprised at this.

“Of course he missed you, goose. You are very ‘missable’ when you are not around. Bring him if you will. He is a good lad.” Frodo smiled fondly at Pippin, and ruffled his hair as though he were still a young lad himself. It was a gesture that he would have resented from anyone else, but from Frodo it was wonderful. He had been missing Frodo even in his presence for far too long.

“Well, then, good night. We will see you in the morning, as we are going to go for our picnic right after first breakfast ourselves.”

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The weather was lovely the next morning, if just a bit unseasonably warm, and it was a jolly group set out for Pincup.

Along with Pippin, Merry, Freddy and Bergil, were Estella and Angelica. Estella rode with Merry and Angelica rode with Freddy. Bergil, of course, had his own pony. In a cart accompanying them were Pimmie and Milo, with their little ones and Vinca and Tanto with little Largo. The provisions were also in the cart, a veritable feast. There was also a nicely smoked ham that Merry and Pippin planned to give Mrs. Diggle.

Pippin and Bergil had also planned a surprise for the little ones, and they talked about it as they rode, just a bit behind everyone else.

“Do you really think they will like it, Sir Pippin?” asked Bergil. “Since you say it is not something hobbits have done?”

“Exactly why they will love it, Bergil-lad. It will be something new. And it is a simple enough thing. I’m glad you told me about it.” He laughed. “I’m just glad we were able to find enough old pipes to use.”

“I think pipes a splendid idea. I never would have thought of that.”

“Just seemed to make sense, lad.”

The little group went on in to the village, and stopped by the smithy.

“Master Diggle!” called Merry.

“Why, it’s Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin. I see you’ve friends with you today. What brings you here?”

“Why nothing more than a good day for a picnic,” answered Merry.

“But we thought we would stop by and pay our respects to your wife. We have a little token of appreciation for her hospitality,” said Pippin.

‘Well, that is right nice of you, sirs. I know she will be glad of it.”

Merry and Pippin dismounted and took the ham up to the small cottage behind the smithy. Mrs. Diggle was indeed very glad of it, and gladder still to see the two dashing young hobbits, who had made quite an impression on her. Nothing would do but that she come down and meet everyone.

They politely declined her invitation to stay for elevenses, as they were set on their picnic. They bade her and her husband farewell, and went on through the village to the other side.

About a mile south of the village was a large glade, used from time to time by generations of hobbits as a prime picnic spot. It was wide and grassy. Fallen logs had been rolled to the center, to be convenient seats. The glade overlooked a small pond, handy for the occasional angler, shallow enough at the edge for wading, and deep enough toward the center for the rare hobbit who fancied a swim.

As the lasses busied themselves setting out the picnic, Pippin and Bergil sat Flora and little Alyssum down on a nearby log. Bergil took out a jar he had been carefully carrying and opened it. Pippin brought out about half a dozen old pipes he had located in one of the mathom-rooms and had carefully scrubbed clean of the least traces of pipe-weed.

“What have you got there, Pip?” asked Merry curiously. Freddy, Milo and Tanto were also watching intently. Tanto had little Largo in his arms.

“It’s soap, Sir Merry,” said Bergil. “Soft soap dissolved in some water. Watch this.” He took one of the pipes and dunked it into the liquid and then softly blew through the pipe-stem. Out rose a beautiful round bubble, to float above their heads. The little ones giggled and clapped their hands in glee, and even the adults watched in fascination.

“Here,” said Pippin, “let me have a go.” He too, blew out a lovely bubble.

“Oh, Sir Pippin! The pipes work even better than the reeds we use at home! You can blow several at a time with them, but they are all small bubbles. The pipes make lovely large ones.” Bergil blew another, and then as it floated off Alyssum reached up and touched it. It burst, and her eyes grew wide.

“Unca Pip,” said Flora “let me!”

“Flora!” said her father “What are you supposed to say?”

She sighed. “Let me, please!”

“Of course, dearheart,” said her uncle. He took one of the pipes and carefully dipped it, and held it up for her to blow. Quite a large bubble appeared at the end of the pipe-bowl, but when she grew excited and blew harder, it popped. She looked at her uncle questioningly.

“That’s all right. We’ve lots of bubble soap. You must just try again.” Patiently Pippin dipped it for her again.

Bergil showed Milo how to do it, and soon the other adults were following suit. There were dozens of bubbles of various sizes floating about, and Alyssum was trying to toddle after them, though she could barely yet stand. Flora had finally caught on to how it was done, and laughed gleefully every time she successfully launched another. Even little Largo’s eyes grew wide, as his father blew them in front of his face and they floated off.

Merry tried a few, and then stopped as he felt Estella come up beside him.

“May I try?” she asked.

He handed the pipe over to her with a flourish. She grinned at him, and then dipped it as she had seen him do. She blew a beautiful large one.

“Very good, Estella!” he said, smiling at her. “Is it time yet to eat, or do we have time for a short stroll?”

She passed the bubble-pipe over to her brother. Freddy had been waiting with a bit of impatience to try. “I think we could perhaps stroll over to the pond.”

As they ambled off, Freddy was showing Angelica how to do it.

Bergil and Pippin had now handed their own pipes off, and stood back to watch the others.

“This was a wonderful idea, Bergil,” said Pippin. “Thank you for suggesting it.”

Bergil blushed at the praise. “I just thought it might be something fun for the little ones to do. When I was only a child, my father used to do that for me, and I liked it quite well.”

Pippin managed to turn the laugh that threatened him into a cough. He would not want to hurt Bergil’s feelings for the world. When he was a child, indeed!

Just then Pimpernel called out that the food was ready, and bubbles were forgotten in the rush to the lavish spread laid out before them.

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Poppy was checking on her patient. Opal lay there as the healer dangled her bone disk, watching it carefully as it swung. Physically, Opal was doing as well as could be expected, but Poppy was concerned that she seemed to be growing melancholy. A certain amount of that was natural, of course, but she did not want it to grow too deep, or linger too long. She thought of Frodo Baggins, still carrying the grief of his parent’s death. After nearly forty years it weighed on him still, along with some fresher griefs that she could not fathom. She had no intention of allowing Opal to come to that.

“Opal,” she said, “something is troubling you besides the obvious. Can you tell me what it is?”

The lass looked at her wide-eyed. “Mistress Poppy, what is to become of me? All my mother ever wanted me to do was to marry someone rich and of high status. I rather hoped he would be young and handsome as well. I don’t think any of that is going to happen now. No one will want to wed a crippled, one-legged lass. And to tell the truth, I’m not so keen on the idea of marrying anymore. But all that is left is for me to be a burden on my father and my sisters.”

Poppy nodded. This was a serious concern, and not something that could be made better by saying “Don’t worry, all will be well.” She sighed. “I do not know, Opal. I do know that you do not need to be any more crippled than you’ve a mind to. Once your other leg heals enough, you can learn to get about on crutches. I have even heard of a hobbit in the North Farthing who gets about quite well on a limb made of wood, and I have asked Lavender to inquire about him, in case that may be something that could help you.”

Opal sighed. “It doesn’t sound very nice, but anything would be better than lying in my bed for the rest of my life. I would like to do something *useful*.”

“What kind of useful thing would you like to do?”

Opal blushed. “I know it’s impossible. Even if I weren’t crippled, I’m not smart enough.”

“You are a great deal brighter than you give yourself credit for, dear. You’ve just never had any reason to develop your intelligence. Now tell me what it is that you have thought of, that you think must be impossible.”

“I wish I could be a healer--like you,” she finally said, shyly.

“Ah,” Poppy nodded. This would not be the first time she had a young patient whom she had brought through a serious trauma, who decided that being a healer was what she wanted. One or two had even gone on to become apprenticed to her. Instead of answering, she slipped the disk from around her neck. “Hold out your hand,” she instructed, “take it.”

Opal stared at her, not understanding.

“Take it, and hold it as I do.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, looking like a small child given her first important task.

“Now, hold it so that it hangs over my forearm.”

The lass did this, looking puzzled. Slowly it began to swing in a gentle circle. “Mistress Poppy! I’m not moving it!”

“I know.” Poppy smiled gently. “Now hold it over my elbow.”

When Opal did this the pattern of the movement changed, and became erratic. She looked up in dismay.

“That’s quite all right, dear. I have a bit of joint ill in that elbow, and so the pattern shows.”

She held out her hand and took the disk back, slipping it once more around her neck. “I will not hide it from you that you have a long way to go, even to walk again. But if you are diligent while I am gone, and do as Mistress Lavender tells you, to become as strong as you can, then when I return I will ask your father if he minds you apprenticing to me. Viola will be ready to move on in two or three years, and I like to start a new apprentice before the old one leaves.” For a few years earlier, she had found herself for a time without any apprentice, and she did not like it a bit.

And Opal’s face lit up, into perhaps the first genuine grin of her life.

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Freddy and Angelica sat on a log overlooking the pond, and watched as Merry, Pippin and Bergil swam, splashing and diving about. He shuddered. In spite of the fact that they appeared to be having fun, it just seemed far to perilous to him. He looked at the lass beside him. He could tell she had the same mixed feelings about it.

She looked up at him ruefully. “I suppose it would be a useful thing to know, if you ever happened to fall into deep water, but I can’t say that I understand why anyone would find it to be *fun*.”

“I know. My sentiments exactly. Yet they do appear to be enjoying themselves.”

“Yes. But that’s a Brandybuck, a Took and a Man-child down there. Of course they behave a bit oddly.” She giggled.

“Ah, and Bagginses *never* behave oddly, do they?” Freddy quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Only when they have some Took in them. I suppose that goes for the Bolgers, too.”

“Well, I have my share of Took blood, if that’s what you mean. But my mother is just about the least Tookish Took I know.”

She laughed at that. “I would agree. But you must have some of the Tookishness that skipped her. Going off to a far kingdom for a year. That’s an adventure, that is. And you don’t even have the excuse Bilbo had of acting impulsively, or that Frodo seemed to have had with Bilbo’s trouble following him.”

“Angelica, do you have any idea of what hardships Frodo faced?” he asked seriously.

She thought back to her conversation with her cousin on the terrace the night of the Ball. “I do have some idea, yes.” And her mood became somber. “Why *are* you going away?” She left the word *now* unspoken, though she wondered. For it seemed to her that the two of them had found something good, and why should he want to go off and leave that?

“I’ve so many sad memories right now. I need to get away from the reminders for a while, and finish my grieving for Folco.”

She hung her head, feeling ashamed. “I never really saw much in him, I’m afraid. He must have shown you something different, to make you love him so much.”

“Not really. Folco was Folco. He never thought before he spoke, and when he did think, it often made things worse. But he had a big heart. He offended a lot of people, but never once on purpose. No one was more generous. And he had music in him. When he would play his flute, he would be lost in another world, and he would take me with him.” Freddy’s eyes filled with tears, and Angelica laid her hand on his arm. “I suppose it was that we had been friends for so long. I could not remember a time without him.” His face darkened. “And of course the manner of his death made it that much worse. I know that Lotho suffered a grim fate, but I do not feel any pity for him at all. And I would give much to put my hands on Sandyman.”

This was a side to Freddy that Angelica had heard about, but not seen. This was what had driven him to rebel. It was disturbing. She remembered how Estella had reacted to Merry’s act of revenge. She had always thought vengeance was not very hobbit-like, but obviously she was wrong.

She glanced over at Estella who stood a few feet away, and was obviously enjoying the sight of Merry gamboling about in the water, shirtless. Estella felt her friend’s regard, and tipped Angelica a wink.

The three pulled themselves out of the water, clad only in their breeches. They’d let the sun dry them as best they could.

Pimpernel and Pervinca looked at Pippin as he pulled his shirt on quickly. Merry did not have nearly the number of scars that Pippin did, and their brother was a bit self-conscious about them. Pimpernel shuddered, and Milo put his arm around her.

“Be glad, sweetheart, that he came back to us. He doesn’t begrudge the things he did,” said Milo.

“I know. But he suffered; they all suffered.”

“They are not suffering anymore though. Look at them!” Now Pippin was chasing Bergil, both of them laughing so hard it was a wonder they had breath to run.

Pimmie nodded. But she remembered Frodo’s admission at the Ball. That was one who suffered still. And she thought of the nightmares that still haunted her brother and cousin. Not all the suffering was over.

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Frodo pulled his pony up as he topped the rise in the road. There was the Hill, and Bag End, and home.