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Consequences of a Fall  by Dreamflower

Chapter 4

Hyacinth remembered the day of the funeral. She'd been wearing a very becoming black dress, and while she did not weep or wail, she’d made sure that the other Tooks saw that, at any rate, one person was distressed by Lalia's death. After all, poor Ferumbras would be glad to know that she, at least, sympathized with his sorrow.

She'd glanced over at a few of the others. Rosamunda Bolger looked a bit bored and was distracted by Estella, who was fidgeting. Frodo Baggins looked like a marble statue, and had just as much expression. The Brandybucks all looked angry. What on earth had *they* to be angry about? It was their son Meriadoc who'd sent Amethyst home in hysterics, and if Reggie had not been there during that little display, Hyacinth would have slapped some sense into the child. But she wasn't about to forget what the Brandybuck brat had done. Pull her daughter's hair, indeed!

As for the Whitwell Tooks, they all were huddled about Pearl, looking worried.

Hyacinth had allowed herself to feel a little victorious. It was very clear that the lass' disgrace was beginning to take its toll.

Pippin tried not to fidget. The jacket and weskit he was wearing, and the breeches with buttons at the knees, and the scratchy high collar of his shirt were all very uncomfortable. He held tightly to his mother’s hand, as the Thain stood by old Mistress Lalia’s graveside. The summer day was hot, the Sun rode high in a clear sky; it was far too warm for these clothes.

Pippin looked curiously at old Cousin Ferumbras. He was a rather a large hobbit in every way, and he had a booming voice. Yet the things he was saying about his mother did not seem right. He talked about her hard work for the Tooks, and how she had tried all her life to maintain the dignity and respectability of Tookland and the Great Smials. But he did not say anything about what kind of mother she was or how much he would miss her. The way the Thain spoke, it did not even sound as though he was talking of his own mother.

He glanced up at his own mother, who was listening politely, her hand resting gently on his curls, and softly playing a bit with them in a way that was soothing, and he thought that it would be altogether horrible if she should die, and that if he had to talk about her then, he would disgrace himself dreadfully with crying, for he could not imagine how terrible it would be.

He cast a glance at Frodo, who stood a little apart and alone. He had often heard the story of how Frodo’s parents had died when he was about the same age as Pippin was now. Looking at his cousin’s pale face, he fought back the urge to run to him and hug him, for that would not be proper right now. By all that was right, Merry should be standing by Frodo right now, and keeping the sadness away from him. Once, Pippin remembered, Merry’d said it was his job to drive Frodo's sadness away. But Merry couldn’t do anything about Frodo’s sadness right now.

Merry stood as still as a statue, next to his father, his face white, his eyes on Frodo. Pippin knew Merry was thinking what he had just been thinking, and he could tell Merry was feeling very sorry that he could not go to Frodo right now. Uncle Saradoc looked miserable too.

He’d overheard Merry’s parents talking with his own. He knew that if Merry would just say "sorry", Uncle Sara would probably let him off. But he also knew that Merry never would. And it’s all my fault, he thought. If I had just pretended what Amethyst said didn’t matter, maybe Merry would not be in trouble now. But that was impossible. Merry could always tell when he was unhappy, even if he pretended he wasn’t. He sighed. It was all such a grown-up tangle. Why did grown-ups have to make everything so complicated? Even if she was a lass, Amethyst had deserved to have her hair yanked. Why couldn’t Uncle Saradoc see that?

It was dreadfully hot. He put his finger up, and ran it about his collar.

The Thain seemed to be just about finished talking now. Maybe this would be over soon.

Cousin Ferumbras came forward and cast a handful of dirt over the coffin, where it lay in the hole. He stepped back, and hobbits with shovels came, and began to fill the hole, and all the other hobbits began to move back towards the Great Smials.

Pippin shuddered. He wondered what it would be like to be in a box and be covered up with dirt, and suddenly he could bear it no longer, and he grabbed his mother fiercely about the waist as tight as he could.

Eglantine put her arm around him and drew him close. "It is all right, my Pippin. Soon all will be over."

Paladin was walking on his wife’s other side, and he had his own arm around Pearl. Pippin glanced at his oldest sister. She was very white also, and he could tell from her eyes and nose that she’d been crying. He felt awful that he’d not had a chance even to speak to her since he’d arrived.

Behind them, the Aunties walked, with Pimmie and Vinca in between.

Pippin had never thought it could take so long to walk such a short distance, from the hill where all the ancient Tooks were laid to rest, through the south garden, and into the main hall of the Smials, where a luncheon awaited.

Now that he was freed from the constraints of the funeral, he began to fidget in earnest. "Mother, please may I take off my jacket?" he begged.

"Not yet, Pippin. Have some food, and after you eat, you may go outside and play, and you may take your jacket off then. But do be careful of those breeches and that shirt. No climbing trees in them."

Pippin frowned. Tree climbing was about the only thing he could imagine, at the moment, that might possibly be fun without Merry. Merry didn’t like to climb trees.

He supposed he could play with some of the other cousins, but most of them were older and wouldn’t want him around without Merry along. He spotted Reggie’s daughters, over by their parents, being all prim. He *certainly* wasn’t going to play with them after they had made Merry get in trouble yesterday.

Still, he didn’t say anything, for if he did, his mother might tell him to go to their guest quarters, and he didn’t want to be cooped up inside, either.

He helped himself to a plate from the sideboard, and loaded it down with his favorite things--mostly mushrooms fixed in a variety of ways, and then, as his mother was distracted by Cousin Rosamunda Bolger, he managed to get several sweets as well. At least that was something he could not have done if Merry had been watching.

He found a corner, and ate standing, keeping an eye open for any of his sisters or his father to come along and tell him he could not have all those sweets.

Poor Pearl. She was still clinging to their father, and looking altogether frightened. It upset Pippin to see it, for Pearl was usually such a confident lass, who never seemed to get upset. Pimmie and Vinca would often be furious at him over some of his pranks, but Pearl would just shake her head, and sometimes even laugh. That wasn’t a lot of fun, though, so he seldom played pranks on her. Now, however, she looked sad and scared. And he could see some of the other hobbits staring her way, and some of them whispering about her.

Suddenly, Pippin lost his appetite. He found a place to put his plate, and quite unheard of for him, he left a half a piece of cake on it. He slipped away to go outside.

Once outside, he thought of a place he could go to be alone. When he was a very small lad, Frodo had shown him a special place. On the south side of the Great Smials, where the hill sloped down to the garden on the far side of the terrace next to the ballroom, there was an opening in the shrubbery where one could climb up, up and up to the grassy roof. Hardly anyone ever went up there except the occasional gardener. A few sheep kept the grass clipped short, and it was a lovely spot, all open to the sun. Unlike Bag End and Brandy Hall, there were no trees, just the chimney pots, of which there were many. The reason other hobbits didn’t go up there was the view, Frodo had told him, for it was quite high up, and other hobbits were not terribly fond of high places. Tooks didn’t mind being high up as much as most other hobbits, but even the majority of them were not as fond of heights as Frodo and Pippin.

Pippin took off his jacket, folded it neatly, and placed it next to one of the chimneys where he could find it again easily. After a moment’s thought, he shed his shirt as well, for the collar *was* bothering him dreadfully. He folded it too, and laid it on top of the jacket. He slipped his braces back up over his now bare shoulders, and spun around until he was dizzy.

This was lovely. The sunshine and clear cloudless sky were pleasant. He began to run and tumble and sing to himself. He’d never been up here alone before, only with Frodo, and he reveled in all the open grassy space.

He took a good run, and turned five cartwheels in a row, before flopping down. He was thirsty, and he wished he’d thought to bring something to drink with him. He lay breathless for a while, and then, basking in the sun, he fell asleep.

 





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