Disclaimer: Hobbits and the Shire are the creation of J.R.R. Tolkien and are the property of his estate. Not me. (More’s the pity.)

Chapter One: A Mother’s Love

The spring air was fresh in the garden, a gentle breeze caressing Eglantine’s cheeks as she sat on the bench, her youngest cuddled within a blanket on her lap. “Pippin? Love?” she whispered before gently removing what remained of the bowl of custard and the spoon from his slackening grip to place on the bench beside her. Nearly three quarters of the custard gone before he fell asleep; that was good.

It always worried her so, when he was ill, how little he seemed able to eat. Certainly an excuse for cossetting with favorite foods during the times of improvement.

Her darling shifted slightly in her lap, his tiny mouth opening for the tip of a tongue to catch any custard residue on his lips, and Eglantine pulled the blanket over to cover him up to his chin. Fresh air was all well and good, but it would not do to have him catch a chill now that he was on the mend...again.

She sighed softly to herself, looking out over the Smials’ lush gardens, where just the first tips of green sprouts were beginning to show. “Such a tiny hobbit,” she thought. “Eight years old already, and still looks like he’s six.”

“Mistress,” one of the kitchen hobbits called softly from the back entrance to the Smials. “Will you be needing anything else, now? For you or The Little One?”

Eglantine put a finger to her lips to shush any more calls, then reached down to hand the custard bowl and spoon to the kitchen hobbit, who bobbed a quick curtsy before taking the dishes and returning to the Smials.

“Such a tiny hobbit,” Eglantine thought again, as she watched her son’s eyelashes flutter in sleep, “to carry the hopes of all the Tooks.”

Thain Ferumbras was failing in his age, which everyone could see yet no one spoke of, and her husband, Paladin, next in line to the succession, was in truth more an acting Thain than the “assistant” to Rumby which was his official capacity. Strong, tall for a hobbit -- 3’6”, Eglantine had noted giddily the first time she stretched up to put her arms around his neck for a dance! -- Paladin bore the authority well, and assuredly. They had given each other three fine, strong daughters, and they had been happy. Paladin would train Adelard’s son Reginard up to be Thain after him, as Rumby had done for Pad. The title would pass to another branch of the Took line -- why, one day it would get down to the descendants of Isengar, the Old Took’s youngest son, Pad and Eg had joked to themselves.

But then...then, Eglantine smiled, a bit wistfully, bending down to place a quiet kiss on the tousled curls in her lap...there had been a surprise. Another hobbit babe, when she had thought herself finished. She wondered, sometimes, if it had been something she did, or ate, or didn’t do, during those weeks when it didn’t even occur to her what was happening, that caused him to come out so soon, so tiny, with such fragile health.

A lad. A lad who would inherit the titles of the Took and the Thain, despite Regi’s having been prepared already to be Paladin’s heir -- a bit informally after the birth of Pimpernel, then more publicly after Pervinca. Despite the jokes she and Pad had shared about the succession bouncing down the line of the Old Took’s descendants, and their caring not a jot. For Pad had taken one look at the tiny lad and swelled with pride, and invested all his future into this babe. And then he had taken a second look, and moved the family from the farm at Whitwell to the Great Smials, where could be found the best of everything in Tookland: the best food, the best parties, the best healers.

The rest of the Tooks -- for the most part, anyway -- shared Pad’s hope. They had not been keen on having an irregular succession twice in a row. It just was not orderly, or hobbitlike, and introduced too much uncertainty to their genealogies.

Eglantine let Paladin concentrate on the hopes and dreams of the future. His will was strong enough for the both of them. Eglantine just loved.