For Lbilover, who wanted a story about a humorous disaster involving animals in Great Smials at Yule.

A/N: This story takes place the Yule following the events in Kindred. You won't have to read that story to understand this one, though it does have two of my OCs from that story, Amaryllis Took (older sister of Paladin and Esmeralda) and her husband Perry (aka, Peregrin Nettleburr).

A/N 2: I know the family trees say Ferumbras never marries. To that I say, foo. Everyone deserves to be happy, especially poor Ferumbras.

Two Peregrins, and a Brandybuck in a Pantry

1 Yule, 1402 SR

Tuckborough, Great Smials

Pippin is 12 and Merry is 20

Pippin didn’t know what to do, and neither did Merry, which up until tonight Pippin would have thought impossible. Merry always knew what to do, but so far his only contribution was to stand there and frown at the floor. At first, Pippin had the hopeful thought that Merry was merely in deep concentration, but even Merry’s serious thinking never took this long.

Pippin paced the room, fretting. Who would know what to do? Frodo wasn’t here yet; he’d be arriving in the morning (make that four hours) for Yule breakfast. Pervinca would only use this to blackmail them later. Everard would help, but he’d tease them endlessly all the while. For that matter, so would Pervinca. Ferdibrand was more reliable but less imaginative. 

Pippin wrung his hands. Folk would be waking up soon. They’d start wandering about and poking into things, and Yule breakfast wouldn’t last forever. They’d eventually make their way to the ballroom, where Thain Ferumbras was to marry their Aunt Heather in the afternoon. Or they were supposed to be married at any rate. Pippin wouldn’t be able to bear it if he cost his cousin Ferumbras his third (and likely final) opportunity for marital bliss! 

Oh, why oh why had they brought the sheep here?!

Sheep... Of course! Pippin smacked his forehead. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? 

“Uncle Perry can help,” Pippin said to Merry.

Merry’s frown deepened. “I suggest that ten minutes ago, in case you’ve forgotten. What happened to figuring it out on our own?”

Pippin had forgotten but he decided now was not the time for quibbling over details.

“He’ll know what to do. He’ll have it all sorted out in no time, and he won’t tell anyone.”

“You go fetch him then. I’ll keep an eye on the little monsters,” Merry said.

Pippin dashed out of the ballroom and ran through the dim tunnels to the guest quarters. He found the door to number fourteen, let himself inside and tiptoed over to the master bedchamber. He pressed his ear to the door, and hearing nothing other than snores, he opened the door and went to the side of the bed occupied by his uncle.

Peregrin Nettleburr, for whom Pippin was named, was a shepherd and a thumping good one at that. Sheep loved him. In fact, all animals loved him. He had a secret way with them. Perry had told Pippin once that he could even talk to animals, and Pippin believed it. Perry was the only hobbit Pippin knew who could get animals to do whatever he needed them to do, and without any of the struggle and side effects (kicked shins, torn shirts, bitten fingers) that others suffered.

And really, this was all Uncle Perry’s fault in a way. If Pippin hadn’t been trying to talk to the sheep the way his name-father could, then none of this would have happened.

He tapped his uncle on the shoulder until the older hobbit stirred. “Shh!” he hissed quickly, as Perry was blinking himself awake.

“Pip?” Perry asked, not actually whispering but speaking quietly enough not to wake Aunt Ami. “What’re ye doing in here, lad?”

“I have a sheep emergency,” Pippin whispered.

Perry considered the lad in front of him. He could ask questions and get nowhere, or he could just follow the lad to whatever emergency he felt he had at... Perry peeked out the window and groaned... three o’clock in the morning.

“What are ye doing out of bed? Do yer parents know where ye are?” Perry asked, despite his decision just seconds earlier not to ask questions.

“We waited until everyone was asleep. It was supposed to be a surprise. Actually, if we can’t fix it, I suppose it still will be a surprise but not the surprise we were hoping it would be,” Pippin said. He tugged on Perry’s hand. “Please, Uncle Perry! People will be waking soon!” His whisper was quickly becoming a shrill.

Next to him on the bed, Ami stirred. “What in the Shire?” she said upon rolling over and seeing her nephew standing there. “Pip? What are you doing here?”

“Don’tfret, dear heart,” Perry said, getting out of bed before Pippin could erupt with agitation. “Something to do with the sheep. I’ll go see to it, then take him back to yer brother’s.”

Pippin waited impatiently while Perry donned his robe, then Pippin was dragging him through the tunnels to the ballroom.

“Do ye mind explaining what’s going on now?” Perry asked.

Pippin shook his head. “You’ll see,” he said, to which Perry only chuckled.

They entered the ballroom and Perry stopped short. In front of him, in the once immaculately decorated ballroom, prepared meticulously over the last three days to be ready for the Thain’s wedding to Ami’s sister Heather, were six sheep. Three were sleeping in a pile of wool and hooves. One was grooming itself and the other two were slowly and methodically eating the garland decorating the small stage. Merry sat in one of the chairs along the back row, nursing a bite on his hand with a bit of torn shirt and looking foul enough to wilt the bouquets.

Perry looked down at Pippin and raised his eyebrows. “I think it’s time for that explanation, lad,” he said, calm and collected as ever. This was just one reason Pippin adored his uncle so: Peregrin Nettleburr rarely lost his temper, and he never got flustered.

“I thought it’d be fun if the sheep were trained to walk down the aisle with the wedding cloths,” Pippin said. “We’ve been trying to train them like Wren showed us, and we thought we had them trained well enough, so we brought them up here after everyone was asleep so we could do a practice run down the aisle and, well, it didn’t go so well. We were wanting it to be a surprise.”

“You were wanting it to be a surprise,” Merry corrected. “As I recall, I suggested we get Uncle Perry to help us from the start.”

“But Wren made it look so easy,” Pippin said, sounding on the verge of tears.

Perry wondered if his daughter had known what she’d been setting into motion last week when she showed her cousins how to walk the sheep. Wren had shown off, getting the sheep to walk in pairs and setting their pace by a click of her tongue. It’s been all the Tooks could talk about, besides the Thain’s wedding of course.

After two failed engagements (the first being to Perry’s own wife), everyone had thought the Thain was doomed never to marry. But now, finally, he was to marry Heather Took in the wedding of the century. Third time paid for all, or so they said, and everyone had high hopes for the couple. Looking around the ballroom, Perry wondered if some folk were simply destined to be alone.

The sheep had been busy. Not only had they tackled the garland, they’d also overturned a large vase, spilling water and cut flowers everywhere, they’d upset two whole rows of chairs, torn the runner with their hooves and made a considerable mess in one corner when they couldn’t get outside to answer nature’s call in more appropriate surroundings.

“I’d have been happy to help ye train ‘em proper,” Perry said, placing a gentle hand on Pippin’s shoulder. “That was a kind thought, lad, and a good one.”

Pippin sniffed, calming immensely. Perry would never question Pippin’s motives or judgment, or complete lack of same. That was another thing Pippin adored about his uncle. But even if Perry didn’t ask it, Pippin knew what he wasn’t saying. “I wanted to prove I could be just like you,” he explained. “I’m named for you, so I have to be like you.”

Perry considered this for a few moments before responding. “I’m named for a falcon, Pip, but I’ll not ever be able to fly, nor do I much care for the thought of eating rodents on a regular basis.” Pippin sniggered. “Ye don’t have to be just like me to honor my name, understood?”

Pippin nodded.

“So what do we do about the sheep then?” Merry asked. “And all this?”

“That’s simple,” Perry said. “I’ll take the woolies back to the barn. Merry, ye’ll go and fetch some cleaning supplies. Pippin, ye’ll go and fetch your Aunt Ami so she can help with fixing the garland and the bouquet. As for the carpet, I’m sure we can think of something.”

Perry gave Pippin’s shoulder a final squeeze before approaching the sheep. Merry and Pippin watched in awe as Perry snapped his fingers twice. The sleeping sheep woke immediately and the other three wandered over to see what he was offering them. Perry then snapped his fingers again and clicked his tongue once, and that was all it took for the sheep to line up behind him and follow him obediently out of the ballroom into the frigid winter night.

“He must be part wizard,” Merry said. “That’s the only explanation.” He stood up and walked, limping, to the tunnel. “Come on, Pip. You go and get Aunt Ami. I’ll get some buckets, water and towels. We’ll probably need soap too.”

“I’m sorry that ram butted you in the shins, Merry,” Pippin said, falling next to Merry as they entered the tunnel.

Merry couldn’t be sorry for that. The ram had been heading for Pippin, thinking Pippin was threatening the ewes. Merry did regret getting bit by one the ewes though. He shouldn’t have tried to calm the beast the way he did, waving his hands about. He realized that now.

“Go on,” Merry said to Pippin and turned in the opposite direction. There was a maid’s pantry around here somewhere. He just needed to find the right door.

Pippin returned to the guest quarters. He wasn’t entirely surprised to find Aunt Ami already awake and waiting. Aunt Ami was as sharp as they came. She and Uncle Perry had built a whole town and created a tannery, and Aunt Ami was a master carpenter. She’d even given Pippin lessons. 

He had never understood why Ami was never allowed in the Tooklands while Lalia was alive, much less why he could never tell anyone they visited her and Uncle Perry in Nohill. Merry told him once that Lalia hadn’t like Ami rejecting Ferumbras for a poor shepherd lad of no standing. Pippin could only suppose that Lalia had never become well acquainted with Perry if she could take offense at that.

Now that Lalia was gone and Ami was allowed back in Tookland, Pippin had been telling everyone about his amazing Aunt Ami and Uncle Perry and his cousins. He had tons of stories after all, and he was glad to finally be able to share them. 

Ami stood as soon as Pippin entered unattended. “Where’s Perry?”

“Taking the sheep back to the barn,” Pippin said, knowing he needn’t give his aunt an overdrawn explanation. Like Perry, she took things as they came. “Can you help us fix the garland and the vase and bouquet? And we need to figure out something to do with the carpet.”

“Let me get dressed,” Ami said and shooed him from the bedchamber.

A few minutes later, they were heading through the tunnels back to the ballroom. When Ami saw the mess for the first time, she only raised an eyebrow at Pippin. Merry entered shortly after them, pulling a wagon loaded with a bucket of water, a couple of empty buckets, several towels, a bar of soap, a mop, a broom and four pastries from the kitchen. Ami turned her raised eyebrow to him.

“I got hungry,” he said. “There’s hundreds of these. They won’t miss just four.” He handed Ami and Pippin a pastry each and wrapped the last one in a cloth for when Perry returned.

“All right, lads,” Ami said, taking charge. “You start mopping up all this water and getting the floor cleaned up. Stand the vase up if you can. I’ll find the extra garland and the extra cut flowers to make another bouquet. You said something was wrong with the carpet too?”

Pippin pointed to the runner. Ami hummed. Merry munched on his pastry.

“I’ll have to think over that one,” she said at last and went in search of the garland and flowers.

Merry and Pippin finished their snack, and Merry picked up the mop and an empty bucket. “I’ll mop,” he said. “You follow with the broom and sweep up.” He handed the broom and dustpan to Pippin and they set to work.

By the time Ami returned with the necessary decorations, they had the floor clean but hadn’t been able to stand up the vase, which was easily twice their size. Ami told them to leave it for now and showed them how to twine the garland so she could begin to assemble another bouquet.

Perry returned while they were still at work. He ate his pastry, then righted the vase and fixed the chairs before tackling the mess in the corner. Afterwards, he walked the whole room, making sure there weren’t any overlooked messes or damage. When he was satisfied, he set his attention to the ruined carpet.

The runner was old and had been used for Took weddings for generations. Undoubtedly, it had seen tears and stains before in its long life, but Perry doubted it’d seen so many at once. He counted six in all, and they were small enough, but he knew how brides could be. Heather was a sensible lass, for a Took, but even she wanted everything to go perfectly on her special day. Perry couldn’t blame her. She’d waited nearly forty years to remarry after her first husband died of the ague. She and Ferumbras deserved their happiness. 

He straightened the rug so it lay flat on the floor, then looked at it again. A few of the rips were instantly more difficult to see, though if one looked closely, they would still see them. The longer tears still gaped up at him. Mending them properly would take longer than they had time, even with each of them working on it. Fortunately, all the tears were along the sides of the runner, which would make concealing them easier. 

Perry wandered over to the stage where his wife and nephews were finishing their tasks. He brought the vase to the stage and helped Ami insert the new bouquet, then held up the stems so Ami could pour water inside. Then he carried the vase back to its place. It looked close enough to the original that no one should notice.

Ami, Pippin and Merry looked down at the runner. “I think I’ve got an idea,” Perry said and told them. A half-moment later, they were setting to work once again.

Dawn was approaching when they finally finished. They stood back and admired their work. 

“It looks better than before, if I do say so myself,” Ami said.

“It ought to. It took long enough,” Merry said and yawned so widely his jaw popped. He dropped the broom on the cart and picked up the handle. 

“Can we still teach the sheep to carry the wedding cloths?” Pippin asked.

Perry nodded. “Of course we can, if yer auntie’s wanting us to. It’s her wedding after all, and I’ve found as brides can be particular about their weddings.”

“I can ask her,” Ami offered.

“You’ll help us train them!” Pippin exclaimed, hope renewed. He bounced, though not as high as he would have bounced were he not sleep deprived.

“What do you mean, us?” Merry asked. “I’m done with those dratted beasts, no offense, Uncle Perry. If I never see a sheep again, it’ll be too soon. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take these supplies back to the pantry, then I’m getting some sleep. Thank you for your help, Aunt Ami and Uncle Perry.”

“Sleep sounds good,” Ami agreed. “If I oversleep, tell my sister I had a late night and I’ll be there in time to walk the aisle, will you?”

Merry nodded. Telling his mother that would raise questions, but Merry was sure he could think of something. He pulled the cart behind him, dragging his feet as he struggled to stay awake. He could hear his bed calling to him and he yearned to get in it. As soon as he dropped off the supplies...

Ami arched an eyebrow at Perry, then the other one at Pippin. Perry nodded and Ami left, seeking her own bed. Perry patted Pippin on the shoulder. “Walk with me, lad. I did say I’d take ye back to yer daddy’s.”

“Are Merry and I in trouble?” Pippin asked. He always knew A Talk when he saw one, and this was going to be A Talk. Of course, this was also Uncle Perry, so The Talk wouldn’t be like all the others.

Perry shook his head. “Nay, Pip. I think ye two know well enough the damage ye did and how close it came to ruining a fine day. Good intentions though ye had, ye overreached yerselves.”

“We’ll never be able to charm sheep, will we?” Pippin asked.

“Ye just need to learn a different way of training ‘em, is all. I can teach ye that if ye want, after we learn the woolies to walk the aisle, assuming Heather wants ‘em of course.” He paused to give weight to what he had to say next. “Ye said as ye want to be like me, and I’m right flattered by that. I think as ye should be like yerself, though if I do teach ye one thing, I’m hoping it’ll be this: when ye don’t know what it is yer doing, stop and ask for help afore a sheep tears up yer carpet and attacks your cousin. All right?”

“All right. Are you going to tell Mum and Da?” Pippin asked next, dreading the answer.

Perry nodded. “Nay, lad, I won’t be telling ‘em.”

Pippin grinned and took his uncle’s hand. His relief was short-lived.

“Ye’ll be the one to tell ‘em once the wedding’s over and the newlyweds are on their way,” Perry continued. “Ye made a decision, Pip, and ye got to take responsibility for that.”

“But we fixed it!”

“Aye, and ye can repay yer aunt and me by being honest with yer folks. The damage to that runner won’t be hid once the wedding’s over. Folk are going to want to know what happened to it. Merry and ye are going to be the ones to tell ‘em.”

Pippin swallowed and Perry tightened his grip on his hand. When they got to Pippin’s door, Perry knelt and looked him in the eye. “And can ye do me one more favor?”

Pippin nodded. “Of course, Uncle Perry.”

“Stop getting caught.”

“What?”

“Do ye know what I’ve been hearing near every day since we got here two weeks ago?”

Pippin shook his head.

Perry smirked. “My name, and not in overly pleasant tones at that. I’ve not heard my name called this many times in all my life, and I find I’m tired of hearing it. So have yer fun, but try to be sneakier about it. But if something should go terribly wrong as it did tonight, yer to own it, caught or no, understood?”

Pippin smirked back. “Understood.”

They shook on it, and Perry opened the door. “Now get in bed and take yer sleep.”

“But what about the sheep?”

“Let me worry about ‘em. I’ll see ye at breakfast.”

“Good night, Uncle Perry.”

Pippin closed the door and went to his room. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Merry wheeled the cart into the pantry and tried to remember where he found everything, squinting in the dim candlelight from the tunnel. The broom and dustpan went there, the mop over here. The soap was on this shelf and the buckets were piled with the others in the corner. The rags needed to go in the laundry basket, there was no way around that. Hopefully, the maids wouldn’t think anything of finding a half dozen more rags in the basket. 

He looked everything over and decided it was orderly enough, forgetting about the cart entirely in his fuzzy state. He nodded at his handiwork and took a step back. His ankle banged hard against the cart, sending a thrill up his leg to his lower back. He was more startled than hurt, but in his startled state, he jumped forward, bumped into the table, jabbed his toe against the table leg and let out a yowl. A fleeting thought of gratitude that no rooms were close by, and so no hobbits nearby to hear him, went through his mind as he hopped in place, his offended toe throbbing. Then he stepped on the soap, which had fallen off the shelf when he banged the table into the wall, slipped and landed on his back with a thud that pushed the air from his lungs. He heard several things falling over and the door to the pantry closing, but he couldn’t find the energy to care at the moment.

He lay there, staring up at the ceiling in the sudden darkness and taking stock of his injuries: bruised shins from being head-butted by a ram, finger bite from a ewe, his favorite shirt torn, his heel banged, his toe jammed, his breath knocked out of him, and he doubted that landing did his back any good either.

He sighed. “I should have stayed in bed,” he told the ceiling, which silently agreed.

He waited at least ten minutes before cautiously sitting up. He felt around him in the dark, found the soap and placed it on the table. He found the cart and pushed it against the wall. He got on his knees and felt around some more. Several brooms had toppled over, as well as half the buckets, but the path to the door was clear. He could bring one of the sconces from the hall into the room to quickly clean, and then he could finally get back into his bed and, if he were wise, not leave it again until it was time to go home.

He crawled to the door, stood cautiously, and turned the knob. Or he would have, had the knob been there. He stared at the door, hidden in blackness though it was, in disbelief. How could there not be a doorknob?! He checked again and only found a hole where the doorknob should be. He stuck his finger in the hole, searching blindly for the mechanism that would open the door. It had to be there, as he was able to open it from the outside. 

His finger found metal and he felt around for the gear. He found it a moment later and fiddled with it, trying to get it to turn, hoping for that delightful click that would signal his freedom and the end of his torment. What he heard instead was a ping, a pop, and the small, tinging thuds of the gears and springs falling loose and dropping to the floor. The lock bolt was still stubbornly in the jamb and refusing to budge. 

Merry didn’t know whether to whimper or growl. He settled on banging on the door and shouting, until he remembered that there were no rooms nearby, and so no one to hear him. The irony of his earlier glee rubbed raw on his other wounds and he sat down on the floor.

“Well, someone’s going to have to come in here eventually,” he reasoned. “Take the supplies back and then go to sleep. That’s what I said I’d do, and there’s no reason I can’t do that here, I suppose.” 

He felt around for the clean towels, stacked enough on the floor to give him a cushion, lay back down and went to sleep.

“Is Merry with Pippin?” Esmeralda asked Eglantine the following morning as they sat to breakfast in the bride’s chambers. 

“No, and Pippin is fast asleep,” Eglantine said with a shake of her head. “I’ve never seen him sleep in so late.”

“He must be off doing something,” Esmeralda mused and shrugged it off. Merry could take care of himself well enough, and she had other matters to attend to today, namely her sister. Speaking of sisters...

“Where’s Ami?” Heather asked, coming into the chamber, followed by their older sister Amber.

“It’s odd that she wouldn’t be here,” Amber said, then sighed. “Who are we fooling? She’d be late to her own funeral. Let’s get started without her, shall we?”

They set to their breakfast, then prepared for the quickly approaching nuptials.

Merry sighed. The maid’s pantry wasn’t near any windows, so it was difficult to tell if it was getting lighter outside or not, and for that matter, how long he had been asleep. He only knew he had a terrible need to relieve himself, and his stomach wasn’t much happier with him either. He pressed his ear to the door, hoping for the sound of movement on the other side. Where was everyone?

Pippin rolled onto his side and yawned. The yawn was followed by a long stretch in which joints popped and muscles rejuvenated themselves. His peaceful waking was interrupted by a pounding on the door.

“Pigeon!” Pervinca said. “Are you and Merry awake yet? You need to be getting ready!”

Merry? Pippin looked about but saw no sign of Merry. Why would anyone think Merry was in here?

Pippin rolled out of bed and shuffled over to the door, opening it just as Vinca was readying to pound again.

“Well, it’s about time,” she said. “Mum wants you washed and dressed, and Aunt Esme says that Merry’s to do the same.”

“Merry’s not here,” Pippin said.

“Then where is he?”

Pippin thought back. The last place he knew Merry was headed was the maid’s pantry, and if no one has seen him this morning, thus causing them to believe that he must be here oversleeping... 

Pippin was wide awake in an instant. He darted around Pervinca and down the hall.

“Where are you going?” she called after him. “You’re supposed to bathe!”

Pippin didn’t respond. He tore out the door and down the tunnel. Choosing the quickest route, he ran down the nearest ramp and jogged along the outside tunnel and through the main entrance parlor where several wedding guests were arriving. He just barely caught sight of Frodo, luggage in hand, coming through the door.

“Pippin!” Frodo called out.

“Not right now! I have to rescue Merry from the pantry!” Pippin shouted, eliciting many curious glances as he ran through the parlor and continued on his way.

“What is the Shire?” Frodo said.

“If you needed further proof you’re in the Tooklands, there you have it!” Reginard said to him in greeting.

Pippin continued down the tunnels, past the dining hall, past the blocked off ballroom and rounded the corner. The broken door to the maid’s pantry stared back at him. If doors could look sinister, this one would be doing so. 

Pippin knocked. “Merry? Are you in there?”

“Pippin?” Merry asked, sounding relieved and nearly jubilant. “This dratted door won’t open.”

“It’s broken.”

“Yes, I did figure that out. Get it to open.”

Pippin tried the doorknob. It wouldn’t turn. “It’s broken,” he said again.

“Then be a good lad and go get a screwdriver.”

“Why?”

“So you can remove the screws that are holding the lock in place.”

“The screws are on your side.”

There was a muffled response that was likely Merry swearing. “Blasted Tooks and your confounded locks! What’s wrong with a latch? Honestly!”

“Latches are fine and well, but they needed locks to keep the little ones out of dangerous places. There’s lot of things to hurt yourself with in there.”

Silence was his only answer to this statement.

He heard footsteps behind him. “Pippin?” Frodo said. “Why are you talking to the door?”

“It’s Merry.”

“The door is Merry?”

“Frodo? Is that you!”

“Merry? When do you become a door?”

“Don’t be daft! Get me out of here!”

“You insult me, then expect me to help you?”

“Frodo!”

“Oh, very well.” He studied the door then said to Pippin, “We need something slim but sturdy, like a putty knife. Be a good lad and fetch one, will you?”

A few minutes later, Frodo had the door open and Merry, grateful though he was, hurried past in a labored gait in search of a bathing room and a chamber pot. 

“You could have just used a bucket, you know. Perhaps you should leave the door open, just in case!” Frodo called after him, grinning impishly.

It was probably a good thing they couldn’t understand Merry’s response.

All the Tooks and guests were gathered in the ballroom. A small band played a slow ballad as the wedding procession began, walking cheerfully down the aisle and the runner, now decorated along it’s edges with garland and poinsettia. No one knew who did this extra bit of decoration, but they all agreed that it was most proper for a Yule wedding.

The sisters came first, Amber escorted by her son Arlo, Ami with Perry and Esmeralda with Saradoc and lastly the bride, escorted by Paladin. Heather looked radiant in her ball dress, a soft blue gown that complimented her blue eyes. Her greying hair hung loose, covered with a white lace veil weaved with hydrangea leaves. A necklace with a pendant of the heather flower completed the ensemble, and her bouquet was of anemone, forget-me-nots, roses and heather. She beamed at Ferumbras, who stood at the end of the aisle, awaiting her with pride.

The wedding would be remembered by one and (nearly) all as the wedding of the century, which was saying something as the century had only just begun. Merry and Pippin however slept through most of it; everyone politely ignored their snores.

Esmeralda, Saradoc, Paladin and Eglantine looked between their sons, Perry and Ami and each other. None of them really knew what to say, though they all agreed (silently) that the lads had paid enough for their error. 

Finally, Eglantine said, “I think it’s only proper you help with mending the runner. I’ll tell Mistress Flora to expect you.”

“I think too that you should also go to bed early tonight,” Esmeralda said. “I know you were looking forward to staying up till midnight to see the lighting of the Yule logs and bring in the new year, but there will always be next year.”

“Yes, Mother,” Merry said. He ached for his bed. It seemed to him he hadn’t seen it in years. He skin tingled thinking about that soft mattress and warm sheets.

“Yes, Mum,” Pippin said. He didn’t know how much help he and Merry would be in mending the runner, but they’d certainly give it their all - after a proper night’s sleep of course.

“You can stay here tonight if you want, Pippin,” Saradoc said.

Merry and Pippin said good night and shuffled off to Merry’s room. Only when the door was closed and they were sure the lads couldn’t hear them did they finally allow themselves to laugh. Saradoc laughed so hard he cried. He wiped the tears away and shook his head. 

“So what happened to the sheep?” he asked, when he could finally talk again.

“Heather didn’t want ‘em,” Perry said. “She figured as they’d take attention away from her.”

“She adored what you did with the runner. I wouldn’t be surprised to see it decorated so in future weddings,” Esmeralda said. She took Ami’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you for helping them, Darling.”

Ami smiled and stood, her back popping. “It was our pleasure. I think Perry and I will go to bed early as well. We’ll see you in the morrow.”

And so it was that the four conspirators were fast asleep when the Yule logs were lit and the new year arrived.

Summer 1450 SR

Thain Peregrin was asleep in the library when he was woken by an urgent tapping on his shoulder. He blinked awake and at first thought he was seeing double, until he realized he was looking at his twin nieces Summer and Dawn. Well into their tweens, they were proving to be more of a handful than their mother Pervinca had been at their age, and Pervinca had been a terror.

“What’s a matter?” Pippin said, yawning widely.

“There’s been an... incident,” Summer said.

“It just sort of... happened,” Dawn said.

“We didn’t mean for it to happen,” they whispered in unison. “Please, Uncle Pippin, can you help?”

Pippin yawned again and got to his feet, setting aside his forgotten book to fall asleep to again later. He followed his nieces out of the library and chuckled. He finally knew what Uncle Perry had to be thinking all those years before: 

This should be interesting.

GF 12/31/11