Chapter 10, A Matter for Tooks

The warmth of the dimly lit room hit Frodo like a wall as he entered Pippin’s bedroom. The curtains were pulled shut and only one lantern was lit. In the hearth a fire crackled, and in the bedside chair staring blankly at the ill child lying under a thick quilt, sat Paladin.

“How is he?” Frodo asked in a soft voice so as not to disturb Pippin.

“The same,” Paladin replied absently. “He fell asleep right after Mistress Besom examined him and gave him his medicine.”

“Sleeping is good for him,” said Merry, who followed behind Frodo. He observed his young cousin lying fast asleep in his bed; his eyes, normally lit with a mischievous gleam, were closed in slumber. Merry hated it when his beloved cousin became so ill. How he wished he could take this dear one’s place.

“Yes, sleeping is good for him,” his uncle replied in a weary voice.

Frodo and Merry exchanged a concerned look. “He looks terrible,” Frodo whispered into Merry’s ear. He was referring more to his elder cousin, vice the ill child asleep in the bed. Paladin had dark circles under his eyes, lines of care woven into his brow. Frodo understood Paladin’s gaunt appearance was derived from exhaustion while trying to take in all of the recent changes in his life. The last thing Paladin needed was for his son to fall ill on the heels of his older cousin.

Merry nodded then whispered back, “Show him what we found--that might cheer him up.”

So, in hushed tones, Frodo related to Paladin their discovery about the documents they were setting in order in his study. Frodo handed over the certificate in question. For a long while Paladin sat with his green eyes fixed upon his ill son; no reaction forthcoming, apparently.

Frodo wondered at that. “What do you think, Cousin?” he asked in an attempt to glimpse Paladin’s thoughts on the subject.

Suddenly, Paladin stirred out of his reflections. He folded the important paper Frodo had given him, slipping it into his waistcoat pocket then stood to his feet. “Would you lads please mind Pippin for a bit? I need to...I need--I won’t go far. Tina will return soon, so it won’t be for long.”

“Of course we don’t mind, Cousin,” said Frodo. He and Merry watched at Paladin unbuttoned his waistcoat and then took it off, placing it over the back of the chair.

Once his uncle left the bedroom, Merry turned to Frodo, “Did you see what I just saw?”

Frodo answered in astonishment, “I did. I’ve never seen him so wretched.”

“I wonder what has got him so unravelled?” Merry asked. “I mean, besides that of Pippin.”

“I don’t know,” Frodo replied.

* * *

Paladin wandered the tunnels of Great Smials until he came upon familiar voices inside a particular room. The Common room is where Paladin would often find his cousins and friends exchanging the latest gossip while enjoying a mug and a pipe. Today, however, Paladin was seeking neither; he merely decided to walk off his anger rather than let it fester while he sat idly by watching over his ill son. Either I address the issue now, he thought to himself, or forever let it gnaw under my skin. He entered inside.

“Paladin!” said Adelard, obviously surprised to see his younger cousin. “How is Pippin?” Addie sat in one of the soft leather chairs with a few official-looking papers in his lap. Paladin recognised the artistic writing as Everard’s--probably a few of the lad’s practise documents from earlier in the day, as he was apprenticing under both his father and brother. Paladin noted several words circled in red ink, which Addie must have marked for his son’s training.

Addie regarded his friend’s dark mood as he quietly sat in a nearby chair. “Is all well with him? What happened to your waistcoat?” he asked. Gentlehobbits simply didn’t venture outside their house or hole without wearing his waistcoat

“Pippin is much the same as when you last saw him.” Paladin let the other question go unanswered--he didn’t feel like explaining that part of his odd behaviour earlier.

“Then something is bothering you?”

“Aye--and you know well what is bothering me.”

“Do I?” asked Addie.

Paladin cast a set of hard, weary eyes upon his friend.

“All right,” Addie confessed, “I’m guilty of asking the lads to help with the certificates without your knowledge, but that was for your own good.”

“Not only without my knowledge, Addie--but after I clearly remember turning down their offer this morning. You heard me--you were there. Frodo and Merry are my guests. They’re here on holiday.”

“You need help, Paladin. What’s the harm in allowing those who love you to help you along, eh? Or are you the rare type of hobbit who needs no help--you can do all things yourself or die trying?”

“I never said that,” replied Paladin. He looked about the room; fortunately it was fairly empty--even at this time of day. Even so, he’d keep his voice down.

Addie took Paladin’s cue and spoke in a low volume. “You imply it every day!” he argued, laying aside his son’s handiwork. “Cousin, this clutter took years to accumulate and it will not disappear overnight nor without help. Pippin isn’t the only one worried about you, Paladin. I worry about you, Tina worries, your daughters, nephew, and cousins alike are all concerned that you’re driving yourself into an early grave. I can see the strain in your eyes from where I sit. You think you can hide it, but you can’t.

“This morning you promised those lads you’d tell them as soon as you discovered you were in over your head with things as they are. Well, cousin, let me inform you that you are in over your head.” Adelard counted off the current roster with his fingers, “There is the daily management of the staff and meals, arranging the Thain’s private Yule party, you had this morning’s ceremony on your plate as well, the upcoming Yule holidays--the residents expect a Smials’ Yule party, you know--and I don’t think you’ve done any Yule shopping for your family. By the by, when was the last time you spent time alone with Tina? The lasses? Your son? It doesn’t have to be like that. We all know it wasn’t you who got the office in this condition, but we want to help you set it to rights so that you can get on with your tasks and your life.” Addie leaned in toward his cousin, “What are you afraid of?”

Paladin kept his eyes straight ahead, looking neither left nor right when a tear escaped the corner of one eye and slowly ran down his temple. He brushed it away.

“Of failing everybody,” Paladin finally whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “But if my own best friend cannot trust in my decisions--even the small ones, then who will?” Taking the handkerchief his cousin offered, Paladin wiped his nose and eyes.

“If I thought the matter was sensitive, or had need of secrecy, Paladin, I never--never would have asked those lads for their assistance. I apologise from the bottom of my heart for stepping where perhaps I wasn’t welcome,” Addie said with sincerity.

Paladin looked his friend in the eyes. “Addie, it’s not that I don’t need you, or welcome you. I’m just trying to find my own way in all of this, and when I learnt about...well, to be honest, I felt as if you didn’t trust me. That hurt me as much as if Tina didn’t trust me.”

Addie was quiet for a moment, as Paladin’s words affected him deeply. “If it is of any consolation,” he spoke softly in reply, “I have trusted you since the moment we met under this roof as young children. I trusted you the moment you walked through the Great Door back in Rethe and announced your arrival as the Thain’s new assistant, and I will trust you until I take my last breath.

“years ago, after little Pippin was born, I was so afraid that Cousin Lalia would actually arrange her son’s marriage in order to force him to sire an heir. When Ferumbras openly affirmed himself a permanent bachelor, I danced for joy. You can ask Reggie; if you were not going to be declared as the heir to the Took and Thain, I was prepared to remove my family to Waymeet where their mother was born and finish raising my children among her relations. I was not willing to endure yet another cold-hearted Took.”

Together the pair sat in silence for short while. “Well, I am glad that you didn’t leave,” Paladin said wearily, “It’s bad enough that one of us had to leave his childhood home behind.”

Relaxing again in his chair, Addie spoke compassionately. “I am glad that you are here now,” he said to his cousin. “I have lived here all of my life, and in spite of some pretentious inhabitants, I should hate to leave it.

Paladin did not forget Saradoc’s advice to him last spring. Being one of the foremost Tooks in Great Smials, Addie would be an excellent hobbit to read the collective temperament of the hobbits who dwelt here.

“You know all of the residents better than I do, Addie,” said Paladin, “so what is the general consensus about me?”

Addie took in a deep breath. “I can tell you with all honesty that the staff loves you. Sigmund, Adalbert, Brenard and their families may prove to be a bit of a challenge though. They’ve been raised to think a certain way and are set in it. What’s important is that your family loves you, I love you, my children love you. Let your heart be at ease, Paladin, because we will not let you fail.”

Paladin sat in his chair, rubbing his weary eyes. “Which brings me to my next question,” he said and then yawned.

“What is that?”

“Since you have attested your undying faith in me, and that you have lived here at the Smials all of your life and I have not--nor Tina, what would you say to being a counsellor, of sorts, to the Acting Took and Thain while he is adjusting to his new occupation and his new home?”

Adelard laughed at such a ridiculous notion. However, his laughter died away when he saw the solemn expression on his cousin’s face. “You’re serious!” he gasped.

“I may be a shrewd business-hobbit, but you are just as shrewd when it comes to dealing with Tooks--having lived here at the Smials for this long. I can do the task myself, of course, but you are right. I do have much on my plate at the moment, and I must admit that I am feeling overwhelmed.”

Adelard smiled, relieved that his dear friend finally admitted to feeling weighed down. However, he never suspected that he would be appointed as the one to aid. “Very well. I accept,” he said. “But on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“That once we go look in on your son you take your own nap. You are in dire need of sleep, my friend.”

* * *

“Mother?” Pervinca spoke softly as she approached her mother.

Eglantine stirred from her kip. “What is it, love?” she whispered.

Looking round the room, Eglantine saw she wasn’t the only one to nap right along with the young teen asleep in his bed. Frodo sat back against the soft, pillow of his chair, eyes closed, while Merry leaned against his cousin’s shoulder also dozing. Neither one moved when Pervinca entered the room.

Vinca whispered to her mother, “Mistress Lilly is collecting clothes for the laundress. She asked if Pippin had anything for cleaning.”

Eglantine gazed about, her hazel eyes catching a blue jumper that hung over the door handle of his wardrobe. “Take that jumper and look inside his wardrobe, Vinca,” she whispered in reply, “knowing your brother, there are probably two pairs of breeches in there that could walk out of this room by their own volition.”

Something else caught hold of Eglantine’s attention; an adult sized waistcoat lying over the back of Merry’s chair. The dimness of the room made it difficult to see clearly. “Now who’s is that?” she asked herself, laying aside the knitting in her lap.

Going over to stand in front of Merry, Eglantine then recognized the familiar brown waistcoat with black piping along the front edges and hoped the owner had not gone far. With the touch that only a mother can render, Eglantine gingerly lifted the article of clothing off the back of the chair without disturbing her slumbering nephew.

“Give this to Mistress Lilly as well,” said Eglantine to her daughter.

Seconds later, Pervinca re-entered Pippin’s bedroom. “Mother,” she said, speaking softly, “Mistress Lilly said to give you this--she found it in the pocket of Father’s waistcoat.”

Eglantine took the item from her daughter. She thought perhaps her husband might return for the bit of folded paper, so she placed it between the dimly lit lantern and the medicine tray on Pippin’s night table. Surely, he’ll see it right there.

* * *

All throughout the day and evening, Pippin would wake up to either his cousins or his mother sitting at his bedside. He was used to having someone sitting nearby whenever he was ill and he rather liked it. Having someone close by made Pippin feel secure--that nothing too terribly bad could happen to him.

He learned just before supper (six slices of toast and tea) that his papa had been napping in his own bed, and Pippin thought that was splendid--his father was finally settling down and taking a respite from all the recent upheaval. Mostly, though, Pippin slept the day away. Then sometime during the night he woke up to the sound of voices.

“What is it?” asked a male voice, speaking softly. The teen noted that the voice belonged to his father.

“It’s just a mixture of water, peppermint, and brandy,” said the second voice. Mistress Besom, Pippin guessed. He would instantly know his mother’s voice. “I would like for you to daub it all over your son--arms, legs, face, his back and middle. Unless Master Peregrin has caught something worse, this should help to break his fever, or at least cool him down a bit.”

Initially, Pippin complained that the water was too cold; he even tried wriggling out of his father’s grasp but that was of no use. Too weak to fight any more, Pippin lay in his bed and moaned miserably, his teeth chattering with the coldness of the medicinal water being applied to his body.

“It’s for your own good, my love,” Pippin heard his mother say, and then felt her kiss his feverish head.

When his father was finished, Pippin angrily cocooned himself within his blankets where there was warmth. However, Pippin subsequently woke up again...twice. Two times he had to change his night shirt due to their dampness. The second time, his father had to lend one of his own, but Pippin only remembered the big smiles on his mother and father’s faces. His fever had broken; their son had once again managed to defy the odds that haunted him since infancy.

When Pippin woke up the final time and opened his eyes, the dull glow of the wintry sun framed the edge of his curtains. His father sat in one of the beside chairs leaning over the mattress, his head resting upon his arm, and holding Pippin’s hand with his free arm.

Pippin felt spent--but at least he was dry. And he was hungry! He became fully awake when his tummy rumbled...loudly. He saw his father lift his weary head.

“G’morning, Papa,” Pippin whispered.

“Good morning, Pippin,” Paladin whispered in return. He rubbed his face and then yawned. “Are you hungry, son?”

“Aye,” said Pippin.

Pippin heard a rustling of clothes then spied his mother heading toward the door. “I’ll see to your breakfast, love--you shouldn’t have anything too heavy yet. How does tea and a scone with jam sound?”

Pippin’s answer came in form of a smile.

Paladin observed Pippin trying to sit up, but knew his son was still too weak to do so on his own. He got up from his chair, gently pulling Pippin up against his pillows, then kissed his son’s warm cheek.

“I will return in a bit--just as soon as I give the good news to your sisters and cousins,” said Paladin, “They are keeping vigil in the parlour.”

“All right,” said Pippin, “but come back soon.”

Pippin rested in his bed, while his father went to inform the others about his improvement during the night. He looked around, spying a folded piece of paper set between the lantern and medicine tray on his night stand.

Oh, look! Merry must have left me a get-well note! The young Took recalled his best friend doing this plenty of times before when he was ill, and it would cheer Pippin up greatly. He unfolded it, then realized it wasn’t his cousin’s handwriting at all. Instead, Pippin found himself reading the wedding announcement of Diggory Took of Little Delving and Rosa Brookstone of Tighfield.

Disappointed that the note wasn’t what he thought it was, Pippin refolded the bit of paper and rested against his soft pillows and closed his eyes. Oh, well. Merry would be here soon--and in person. After a moment of this tranquil thought, Pippin’s green eyes flew open.

Diggory...Took?!

TBC