Chapter 14. All's Well, etc.

Woodruff finished her examination of Ferdi's skull, and suppressed a sigh of relief, finding no swellings or dents or other abnormalities, save the slight thickening that remained after the healing from the old injury.

'Ferdi? Ferdi-love? Come back to me,' Pimpernel crooned.

Woodruff gently lifted an eyelid, staring into the bloodshot eye, even as she held her breath in the face of Ferdi's brandy-washed exhalations. This looked awfully like...

'How much brandy did he have?' she asked idly.

Pippin limped forward, leaning on Woodruff's assistant, to bend over them. 'Brandy?' he said.

'The lad said they gave him brandy to revive him, and that he was scarcely able to sit his pony,' Woodruff said.

'That was when the brandy was wearing off,' Tad added helpfully.

'I'd rather think it worked the other way round,' Woodruff muttered under her breath.

'What was that?' Pippin said.

'Nothing, Sir,' the head healer said. She patted the unconscious hobbit on the cheeks, but his eyelashes didn't even flutter. 'Ferdibrand? Ferdi, do you hear me?' All the while she was thinking furiously.

Ferdi was Pippin's choice to succeed him as Thain. It wasn't common knowledge amongst the Tooks, for it would generate a storm of controversy. Woodruff knew from overhearing conversation between Pippin and Diamond when the Thain had been seriously ill, the previous winter, and all had thought he was dying. Mayor Samwise had stepped in at the time, bringing Pippin back from the brink of death with herbs and homely wisdom, cajoling him to eat, making him promise to take up the fight once more, at least long enough for the Mayor to travel to the Southlands and back again, hopefully bringing a cure for what ailed the Thain.

Ferdi, for all his glorious deeds, keeping the ruffians out of the Tookland in the time of the Troubles, had a spotted past. He'd lost his wits just before he'd turned twenty, when a horrendous stable fire claimed his uncle and maimed his father, and his mother died of grief. He'd been mute a long time after he came to himself, and then as fate would have it he'd been to blame for another disastrous stable fire--the Thain's stables, here at the Great Smials, and it had been whispered afterwards that he'd thus been responsible for the heart-seizure that had carried off Thain Ferumbras not long afterwards.

Not that it mattered that Pippin had been the instigator of the prank gone wrong--Ferdi was the older, and so the blame fell solidly on his shoulders.

And though Ferdi had redeemed himself in the Troubles, the Battle of Bywater had nearly put an end to him, and the head injury he'd sustained there... he'd withdrawn into the shadows for years after, forgotten by all but a few close cousins.

And the incident where a blow to the head had sent him into the past, reliving the Troubles, though quickly hushed up, would not bolster the Tooks' confidence, especially if it got around that now the hobbit had taken to drink.

Woodruff nodded to herself as she made a sudden decision. She cleared her throat, glanced behind her, saw that Pippin was all ears. Pimpernel beside her blinked away tears, put on a watery smile, and squeezed her husband's hand. 'He's hit his head, all right,' the healer said. After all, it was true. She hadn't said when the hobbit had hit his head, anyhow.

'How bad is it?' Pippin said, relaxing somewhat, as Pimpernel whispered, 'O Ferdi!'

'I could waken him, I think,' Woodruff said judiciously, 'if I applied enough pain to a sensitive spot, but he wouldn't thank me for it. No, I think it better to leave him sleeping--healing sleep, it is. Let us carry him to his bed, make him as comfortable as may be, keep the room dark and quiet for the sake of his head, and let him sleep.' Sleep it off, she said to herself. He'll have a big head when he wakens, no doubt. Aloud, she said, 'I imagine his head will be aching abominably for the next day or two.'

Tim nearly spoilt the effect by fetching Ferdi's cloak and all that had been beneath it. 'Here are the things he brought with him,' he said.

There was a moment of silence as they stared at the mufflers, and then Tolly took the bag from the stable hobbit, worked the knots out with a practiced hand, and brought out a bottle of brandy, and then a wine bottle.

'I thought you said he was not First-footing,' Pippin said, and the frost was back in his tone.

'He wasn't!' Tad said stoutly. 'His pony threw him off, and he walked through the rain--I have no idea of knowing how far, but he was wet through and muddy, and pounded on our door, and swooned in our arms.'

'Then where did he get the mufflers?' Pimpernel said, looking from the bundle in Tim's arms to her husband to the tween who'd escorted Ferdi home.

From the look on the Thain's face, he was wondering the same.

Tad gulped. 'He was wearing them when he arrived, and so o' course we thought he was First-footing,' he said, 'but for the fact that he arrived bare minutes after the clock chimed midnight. We've no near neighbours... it would have taken him more than an hour to walk from the nearest farm! Wherever he got the mufflers, it wasn't First-footing!'

'Farmer Oatley,' Tolly said, and the Thain nodded.

'Of course,' he said. 'That explains it. He was probably sorry for Ferdi, that he was called away from his family on the holiday, and loaded him down with presents to bring home. Wine for Nell to mull, and mufflers for some of their children, and pennies for the rest...'

'Of course!' Nell said, nodding her understanding.

'And he carried the bag himself, rather than trusting it tied to the saddle,' Tolly said with a nod. 'Very practical.'

'Good thing none of the bottles broke when he was thrown,' Pippin said dryly.

'They're well wrapped,' Tolly said, taking another look in the bag. 'None even cracked and leaking, or so it appears.'

'Still, it'll be undrinkable for some time, having had such a shaking,' Pippin said. 'Good thing Ferdi landed on his head and not on the sack.'

At Tad's dumbfounded look, Tolly said, 'It's the hardest part of him.'

'Well,' said Woodruff briskly, rising and dusting her fingers. 'It may be, and it maybe not. All I know is, he'll be more comfortable in his own bed, with all this sticky cordial washed away, and his scratches tended, and dressed in a nightshirt, and the covers piled high.'

'Does he have a chill?' Pimpernel said in alarm.

'Well, he's been riding in the rain for hours,' Woodruff said. 'His clothing is still damp, and a haystack is not necessarily so warm and comfortable as bed and blankets.'

'Not to mention the danger of pitchforks,' Pippin said, and slapped young Nibs on the shoulder. 'Take the rest of the day, lad. I'd say you've had enough for one morning.'

'Sir?' Nibs whispered.

'Go on, lad,' Old Tom said. They'd make do somehow. He had five sons, after all, and with himself into the bargain likely they could take care of all the stable work needing to be done, and with their experience they'd likely have it done in less time than some of the stable lads might. And then they could tuck into the fine feast, later in the day, having worked up a goodly appetite. He nodded at Nibs' befuddled look. 'Go on,' he repeated. 'Thain's orders.'

'Yes, Sir!' Nibs said, jumping to his feet. 'Thank, you, Sir, I...' He suddenly seemed aware of the circle of hobbits, with himself the centre of attention, and fumbled to a stop, blushing.

Pippin gave him a friendly nod, and the stable lad bowed low and hurried away.

'Well,' Pippin said. 'All's well that ends better, or so a certain gaffer of my acquaintance was fond of saying...'

'Yes, well,' Woodruff said. 'Let us get you back to your breakfast, Sir, before that good ham goes cold...' She nodded to Fennel and Sandy. 'Nell and I will see that Ferdi reaches his bed safely. Tolly, if you will...?'

'I'll fetch a litter,' Tolly said, restoring brandy and wine bottles to the bag Tim held, and taking the bag he stuffed the mufflers in as well. 'I'll just deposit this in your sitting room, Nell, for you to deal with later.'

And so the Thain was escorted back across the yard to the Smials proper, and though one leg dragged, his step seemed lighter than it had earlier. And Tolly returned at a trot with a litter and another hobbit of the escort, and they eased Ferdi onto the litter, tucked him up well with a blanket to cover the red-stained shirt, and with Nell holding Ferdi's hand, bore him away.

And soon it was just Tim, and Tad, and Old Tom left, standing by the haystack in the entryway to the stables.

'You haven't had your breakfast, yet, have you lad,' Old Tom observed. 'Tim, take him to the great room, and round up your brothers while you're at it! We have ponies to hay, and no time to waste if we're to come to the grand feast this afternoon!'

'Will ye be staying to the grand feast?' Tim asked.

'No, I promised my family I'd be back in time for tea,' Tad said. 'I had better make haste, as a matter of fact!'

'You'll be all the better for a good breakfast,' Old Tom said, 'as will your ponies. Tell you what, you go and clear a plate or two and we'll let them finish their hay and have them tacked and ready to go by the time you're done. And Tim, tell the kitchens to pack the lad a sack of provisions, that he need not stop along the way home.'

'I thank you,' Tad said with a bow and a grin.

'We're the ones owing thanks,' Old Tom said. 'Who knows where Ferdi'd be, or what state he'd be in, if not for your aid?'

'All's well that ends well,' Tad said.

'You can say that again,' Tim laughed.

And so he did.

***

A/N Thanks to Sulriel for advising on pony behaviour.