Chapter 94. Fireworks

'They celebrate the New Year on March 25?' Ferdibrand asked, mystified. 'Whyever for?' He shook his head. The hobbits were feasting without the Big Folk for the late nooning this day; for some reason, after the festive elevenses, the Big Folk had declared that they could not eat another bite, nor face another meal, until teatime at the earliest. It seemed odd to Ferdi that, not only did the Big Folk not know how to keep a feast properly, but that they didn't even keep it on the proper day.

The Big Folk never failed to amaze him. Everyone knew that the old year ended with 1 Yule, which the Tooks very sensibly called "Last Day", and the new year began with 2 Yule, which the Tooks, again quite wise in Ferdi's opinion, called "First Day".

To celebrate the New Year just after spring began... well, he could see some sense to that, he supposed. Spring was a time of new life, new beginnings.

Reginard said warningly, 'Ferdi,' and the other looked up in surprise, but the protest died on his lips at the sight of the Thain's face.

Pippin said quietly, 'On the Twenty-fifth of March, upon a time, two hobbits of the Shire crawled up the side of a terrible fiery mountain. Do you know why they crawled?' he asked mildly.

Ferdi dumbly shook his head. The Thain continued. 'They crawled, because they had no strength left, after their arduous journey. They had gone through danger and peril, they had little food and only a few sips of water, and no water at all near the end, their steps constantly dogged by an enemy who would strangle them for what one of them carried, and other enemies hunted them as well.

'And then there was the Eye,' he said, even more softly. 'A terrible Eye, that searched for them, that commanded Things more horrifying than your worst nightmare could ever be, cousin. All for... what one of them carried.'

Pippin started to raise his brandy glass to his lips, but arrested it mid-air and stared into the golden depths without speaking for a few breaths.

'And what did that hobbit carry? You might ask that. The hobbits of the Shire have shown so little interest in the tale, perhaps even now you do not realise how close the world came to ending...'

Many of the hobbits in the room gasped, save the Gamgees, who had heard all of the stories in the Red Book many times, and the Master of Buckland, and Reginard Took, who'd listened closely to his Thain and put together offhand scraps of information into one whole, and very frightening, piece.

'It darkens my soul to speak of it, even now,' the Thain whispered. 'He carried... the Ruling Ring, forged by the Dark Lord in the fires of the very mountain they ascended.' A small hobbit whimpered, and was shushed by its mum, who covered the little one's ears and rocked gently back and forth. 'With that Ring, the Dark Lord would have covered all of Middle-Earth, yes, even the Shire, with Darkness complete and never-ending.'

There was a catch in his voice as he continued. 'They crawled to the throat of the mountain, where they could look down into the awful fires, and--' his eyes met Sam's. 'The Ring went into the Fire on that day, and was destroyed, and the Dark Lord was driven out of Middle-earth, and the Darkness with him.'

'Cousin Frodo,' Ferdi whispered. Pippin nodded. Ferdi went on, 'He didn't pay for all that food with Bilbo's gold before he sailed away, then.'

Pippin shook his head slowly.

'He paid... he paid...' Ferdi buried his face in his hands and sobbed. 'I'm sorry, Pippin, forgive me, I didn't know...'

Pippin put his glass down, laying a hand on Ferdi's shoulder. 'Now you do know,' he said. 'The Big Folk have honoured Frodo every year since, on the Twenty-fifth of March, remembering when he saved us all.'

'But why--?' Ferdi cried, looking up in anguish.

Pippin met Merry's eyes, then. 'We have been very wrong,' he said, 'to keep it to ourselves all these years. The People should know what one of their own did, and gave, and sacrificed.'

Merry sighed, his eyes haunted.

'You have seldom spoken of the journey,' Reginard said. 'The terrors are still there, in your memories.'

Pippin nodded, not surprised at his understanding.

'We must not let the tale lie in a dusty book, to be buried and forgot amongst all the other mathoms,' the Mayor said.

Pippin answered, 'No, you have the right of it, Sam. I want a copy made of that book you have, for the Smials, so that the Tooks may hear the full tale told, though it take years to read it all to them.' He looked to the Master. 'And what of you, Merry?'

'Yes,' Merry whispered, as Estella squeezed his hand encouragingly. 'I would prefer that the memory die with me, but that would be wrong, wouldn't it?' He closed his eyes. 'We need a copy for Buckland, as well.'

The Mayor nodded, satisfied. 'Frodo-lad has already begun writing out another copy,' he said. 'The Shire must never be allowed to forget what Mr Frodo did for them, and for all of Middle-earth.'

The Thain stood and raised his glass in a silent toast, and all the hobbits followed suit. They drank to Frodo's memory, and to new beginnings, and the New Year.

***

Ferdibrand took himself off after the hobbits' noonday feast, and Pippin did not see him at any of the afternoon's activities, not even the archery demonstration by hobbit archers, though he had been an avid spectator at the morning demonstrations by the Rohirrim and the King's Guard.

Though it would take the work of some months to strengthen his arm enough to pull a bow once again, the Thain had expected to see Ferdi there in support of his archers. Only something of great import would have kept him away. Pippin was not surprised, therefore, when his cousin sought him out, about an hour before sunset, when the great feast with the Big Folk, and the following fireworks display were scheduled to commence.

Pippin excused them to the others and went to walk along the Riverbank with Ferdi, who wore an unusually thoughtful expression.

'What is on your mind, cousin?' he asked at last.

Ferdibrand seemed to be having trouble forming his question. He picked up a small stick, broke it into pieces, and cast each piece into the great River while Pippin waited. After watching the last piece float away, Ferdi finally said, 'There were two hobbits on the mountain, you said.'

'Aye, you have the right of it,' Pippin answered.

Ferdi finally turned to face him. 'Were you the other, then?'

Pippin was taken aback. He'd never thought... but of course. The first thought that the proud Tooks would have had, was that one of their own had been an intimate part of that awesome deed.

'I could never have done what they did,' he said quietly. 'It was almost more than I could do, to fight the battle set before me.'

A frown creased Ferdi's face between his eyebrows. 'Then...' he puzzled, 'was it Merry?'

Pippin actually laughed, and Ferdi's confusion grew.

'Ah, Ferdi,' he said, wiping his eyes, 'twice now you have guessed amiss. I thought you were sharper than that.'

Ferdi was shaking his head in wonder. 'It cannot be...' he said.

'And why not?' Pippin asked softly. 'Because he's only a gardener? Because he was not born highly enough to do great deeds?'

Ferdi was insulted. 'I never said that!' he answered hotly.

Pippin placed a calming hand on Ferdi's arm. 'I apologise, cousin,' he said, 'if I have wronged you.'

'It's just that...' Ferdi said, feeling his way, 'he's always been so... quiet... and solid...'

'He has never spoken of his own part in the Quest,' Pippin said, 'for he would not take any of the honour from Frodo's memory. But Frodo would not have reached the lip of the fiery mountain, had not his Sam been with him every step of the way.'

Ferdi nodded, obviously deep in thought. Pippin clapped him on the shoulder. 'We'll be late for the feast if we tarry much longer,' he said.

'You go on ahead without me,' Ferdi answered absently. 'I'll be along.'

***

After the feast, and the toasts, the King rose from his seat, and all the guests followed his example. He moved to stand before the Master, Mayor and Thain. He bowed deeply, then stood to one side, unsheathing his sword, raising it high in the torchlight.

'We are here to honour the Ring-bearers,' he said. 'One of them stands before you, and the other we will remember as long as memory endures. Praise them with great praise!'

A great shout went up from the Kingsmen and the Rohirrim; the hobbits joined the glad cry, and the Travellers were reminded of the field of Cormallen.

When the shout died away, Ferdibrand gave a signal. His archers quickly formed and marched forward, to stand before the head table. Ferdi nodded to the Thain, and then all of the Tookish archers bowed low before the Mayor.

A blushing Samwise turned to Pippin, who shook his head. 'I had nothing to do with it, Sam,' he said softly. 'The Tooks salute courage; it is one of the few things they respect.'

As the Tooks rose from their homage, Ferdibrand raised his bow in salute, then gave a nod to dismiss the archers, who melted once again into the crowd.

The King's horse was brought, and Elessar lifted Sam to the saddle. 'Now for the fireworks,' he said.

'I always liked that part the best of all,' Sam said.

'Then let us lead the way to the field,' Elessar answered.

'After you, Strider!' Sam returned, and the King laughed. Taking the horse's reins, he led the way to the field, then lifted Samwise down again, and the horse was led away as Big People and Little People sat down together upon the blankets spread out on the field to watch the breathtaking display.