Getting Settled and Unsettled

They slipped away from the Hall, managing to avoid detection. It’s amazing how easily the bride and groom can do that if they so choose, more amazing when it’s brides and grooms. The new Mr. and Mrs. Jebbin Brandybuck and the new Mr. and Mrs. Other Brandybuck made their way, laughing and giggling beneath the starry late Astron sky, to Crickhollow House.

It wasn’t the same Crickhollow that their forebears had dwelt in upon their return from the Quest, but it included a few rooms of that ancient dwelling as well as newer additions. The additions made the house more comfortable for a greater number of guests. It was also able to easily accommodate two separate families if the need arose. Jebbin and Other had reserved it for their honeymoons as it would enable them to be away from the Hall proper, allowing the young couples to enjoy each other’s company during the day, and ensure the desired privacy in the evenings and at night.

They gave a nod to Athelas’ oldest brother, Tobold, as they went through the gates. Hobbits were known to have a bit of fun with couples on their wedding nights, if they could get away with it, so it was quite customary to have some trusted friends, or family members keep mischief makers at bay. Not to say those same trusted friends or family members wouldn’t have a bit of fun themselves, but they usually kept it a bit nicer. Tobold was a good choice for a guard. A blacksmith by trade, as was his father and his new brother-in-law, Tobold was an exceptionally sturdy hobbit. Few there were anywhere in the Shire who would cross him, but he was really gentle at heart and never started a row. Their other guard was Macidoc Brandybuck, the Master’s eldest son, next in line to the title, and not a thing like old “Pompous”. He was an outgoing, friendly, caring young hobbit and Jebbin happened to be one of his favorite chess opponents as well as one of his best friends. The newly weds had little need to worry about rude interruptions this night.

Even so, Other and Athelas found they needed to take hammers, tongs, punches, nails, hinges, pony shoes of various sizes and a very well used smithy’s apron out of their bed. They had at first thought to use one of the other two bedrooms, but the mattresses had been removed. At least Tobold had laid his surprise between two spare sheets before covering it over with the bed’s top sheet and quilt. All the paraphernalia had not got the bedding dirty, and it was fairly easy to remove it all without having to totally remake the bed. One thing the new couple left in place. On the wall over the head of the bed hung a crossed hammer and tongs, the gift of smithies to a fellow smith to bring strength to the new marriage.

Jebbin and Marjy found a chess set on their bed. They thought they had got off easy, until they got into the bed. The pieces from several chess sets were under the bottom sheet and, like Other and Athelas, they also found the other beds in their wing to be lacking mattresses. But that was not the only “gift” left for the newlyweds. Upon a small satin pillow, set squarely in the middle between the two pillows at the head of the bed, was something very unexpected; Macidoc’s ring. Old “Pompous” had gifted his infant son with a signet ring of his own. First, it had been tied to the babe’s wee gowns, later it had been tied to his tiny shirts. From his faunthood till his teens it had been on a chain about the lad’s neck. Then, starting with his tween years, it had been continually resized so that it had always been upon Macidoc’s hand. All this so that no one should forget whose son Macidoc was or whom he would grow to become. Mac’s ring was tied to the small satin pillow with a short note beside it.

“You’ve my blessings, my dear friend. Just do return this next week when you come home so as to avoid my Father killing me. With Greatest Affection, Mac”

It was a most pleasant week. The days were warm but not yet hot. The evenings were chill enough that was fun to bundle up in blankets and sit around a bonfire before heading to their separate wings of Crickhollow House. Marjy was an excellent cook, Athelas less so but she was the quicker more efficient housekeeper. Jebbin spun good tales and Other could lighten the mood when occasionally things had got to be a bit tense. They all had good voices and loved to sing. All in all, they were a companionable foursome.

Soon, it was time to return to the Hall. The lasses had not seen their apartments, though the lads had assured them they would be comfortable and not overly furnished nor decorated, so the new lady of the house could choose things to her liking.

Marjy and Athelas had their doubts.

Brandy Hall was huge with many apartments. What had been the Master’s quarters in the days of the Travellers had been abandoned about two hundred years after Meriadoc the Magnificent had dwelt there. It had become inconveniently located to where many of the public areas of the dwelling now were placed. When new construction was added to the outside of Buck Hill, the once light airy rooms that had been the Master’s quarters went dark. They were taken over by elderly Brandybucks who liked to be away from drafts.

Until now.

It had happened the rooms were vacant when Jebbin and Other had been seeking their future housing. The large suite of rooms had been divided into two separate apartments of more reasonable size somewhere in the past, an arrangement that suited the brothers’ wishes perfectly.

With a flourish Jebbin and Other swept open the double doors that led into a large central entrance hall. Sturdy round doors, one to the right and one to the left, led into the apartments. The door to the right had a beautifully lettered sign upon it reading, “Mr. and Mrs. Jebbin Brandybuck.” The door to the left bore a sign, in the same lettering, which read “Mr. and Mrs. Other Brandybuck.” The brides both smiled. The brothers gave each other relieved looks; so far they had done well. Then, with a firm nod to each other, they turned and each escorted his new wife into her new home.

“Well, my dear?”

Marjy looked around the apartment’s parlor. It was a cozy room, a bit small perhaps but cozy.

“I think it will do,” she slowly replied. “You lads were being honest about not that much being done ahead.”

That cut Jebbin a bit. But looking around with Marjy now beside him, he could see where he and Other hadn’t really done much besides clean up and drag in a few pieces of furniture from a nearby mathom room.

But, Marjy was now smiling as she slowly walked about looking everything over. “Actually, dear, I think it will do most nicely. The fireplace is good sized. This sofa will be easy enough to reupholster. Another chair here by the fireplace and . . . ,” she walked into a corner of the room, “a game table and two chairs here . . . a couple of small tables by the sofa for holding lamps and refreshments . . . a thick rug in front of the sofa . . . Yes, definitely lots of possibilities here.”

She came over and wrapped her arms around her husband.

“No need to look like a frightened rabbit, Jebbin,” she chided. “I like it.” She kissed him then got an inviting look in her eyes. “There are other rooms, aren’t there? A dining room, a kitchen . . . bedrooms?”

Jebbin was suddenly very glad his Mum had insisted the bed be made up.

Across the entry hall, a rather different approach to showing the bride her new home was in progress. Other had insisted Athelas close her eyes as he led her over the threshold. He let go of her hand, closed the door then announced, “You can open your eyes now!”

He stood in the middle of an empty room, his arms spread wide and proclaimed, “Behold! Welcome to your new abode, Mrs. Other Brandybuck.” He hurried back to her side, grabbed her hand and walked her a few steps to the left, nearer to the fireplace, talking as they went. “Over here we’ll have the softest, mushiest sofa we can find, and the softest, mushiest chairs to match. All cozy by the fire.”

Athelas’ face shined. “Yes, perfect for reading or snuggling.”

“Exactly! And a small table and chairs here for when I feel the need to beat you at draughts.”

His wife gave his arm a punch before skipping over to another corner of the room, “And a nice writing desk here.” She paused with a thoughtful look on her face. “Or is there a study?”

“No. We’ve a larger parlor whilst Jebbin and Marjy, the scholars, have the study.”

Athelas stood looking around the room.

“I didn’t get any furniture,” Other said. He was already good at reading some of his wife’s thoughts. “Jebbin did, but I reckoned that you would enjoy the climbing about in the mathom rooms, getting filthy and finding things that caught your fancy.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed as she clapped her hands together up by her chin. “That’s a marvelous idea, Other. Shall we go now?”

“Well . . .” He walked over to his bride, wrapped his arms about her, kissed the top of her head then looked over it down the hall that led to the rest of their rooms. “Unless you might, only if you’d wish to you understand, want to have a look at the one piece of furniture I did go ahead and choose.”

Athelas leaned back against his arms. “You actually chose something? All by yourself? With no help from me? How bold of you!” She batted her lashes at him before giggling.

“Even bolder when you discover what it is I went and chose all by myself with no help from you.” Other batted his lashes back at her. “I only hope the mattress I had made is soft enough . . .” He thoughtfully rolled his eyes upwards.

“Ooo! Our bed?”

Athelas ducked out of Other’s arms to dash down the hall.

It was three weeks later on a lazy Highday morning that Marjy received another surprise. As was her habit already in her newly married life she was up before Jebbin. She liked to have some quiet time at her desk in the study.

The study was a sizable room, having at one time been the Master’s private study located in his quarters. Not as huge as the official study of course, but large nonetheless. Jebbin and Marjy each had a large desk just a few steps into the room arranged so they were up against and facing opposing walls. This gave each of them a nice feeling of privacy, of having their own study as it were, while all they had to do to speak with each other was swivel their chairs to face the other way. The fireplace was on the far wall from the door into the study, and the couple had placed two soft overstuffed chairs there, turned so they faced each other a bit as well as facing the fire. A small table, large enough to hold a snack plate and a cup and saucer or mug sat on the fireplace side of each chair, leaving the space between the chairs open to approach them in order to sit down.

Marjy was heading to the fireplace to lay the fire for the day. It was, she thought to herself as she seemed to every morning as she did this, that it was one of the more tiresome aspects of living in an apartment without outside walls. Every room needed to have a fire lit in it every day, no matter the season of the year, both for light and heat. It meant they had to have a ready supply of firewood all the year through unlike her parent’s hole or the two room apartment that had been hers when she had simply been one of the Hall’s hired teachers. At least her sitting room had had a tiny round window. She turned to place her candlestick on the table beside the chair to her left. She gave out a loud squeak while nearly dropping the lit candle to the floor.

There was a hobbit sitting in the chair.

Well, sleeping in the chair would be a more precise description. His head was tipped back against the cushion; his mouth was slightly open though she could hear no sounds of breathing. His legs stretched out toward the fireplace, crossed at the ankles, as though seeking the warmth of a fire which wasn’t there. There seemed something odd about his appearance, though in the dim candlelight, Marjy couldn’t be sure what it was. She had just decided to tip-toe out of the room to rouse Jebbin when the hobbit twitched a bit before opening his eyes.

“Oh!” He said, his eyes opening wider. He awkwardly sat up straighter. “Hello. Your name is Marjoram, isn’t it? Hullo Marjy!”

Marjy backed away a step. Her left hand moved to cover where her heart felt as though it would pound its way out of her chest.

“You know my name?” She gasped out before repeating more boldly, “You know my name.”

“Yes, yes I do.” To himself he added, “Odd how one just knows things at times.” The visitor looked her up and down before squinting at her face in the dim light. “But there, I’ve frightened you and I didn’t mean to do that. I was actually looking to speak with Jebbin, who knows . . . me.”

The visitor had suddenly become aware of his surroundings. He squinted again in the soft candle light, trying to see as much of the room as possible. “This . . . this looks a bit like my private study.” He looked around a bit more before looking again at Marjy. “It can’t be though as it was on an outside wall and had the most pleasant view out the windows and . . .”

“A lot changes in over four hundred years.”

“Jebbin!” Both the visitor and Marjy exclaimed as Marjy ran to her husband. The visitor leaned forward to get a better look at the doorway.

“Jebbin, he – he was just in here, asleep in the chair. Just sitting there, in the chair.” Marjy had tucked herself behind her husband. She was holding tightly to his left arm peering around it at the strange hobbit who was now standing up beside the chair. He was a bit easier to see in the light of her candle joined by the one Jebbin carried. It had to be a trick of the flickering candlelight, Marjoram thought, as it seemed to her that she could somewhat see the fireplace through the visitor.

“You didn’t tell her about me, Jebbin?” The stranger queried. “I’m hurt by that. One would have thought you would have told her about Pippin and me before you even married her.”

“I was waiting until we took a trip to the mathom room. I didn’t realize you could show up just anywhere.”

Marjy was feeling a bit faint. “Pippin and me?” She breathed.

The ghost looked slightly abashed. “Uh, yes. Well that is a logical thing to think, I suppose, now that you mention it. I don’t really remember showing up anywhere else myself.” He paused a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Although, I do seem to remember seeing your and Other’s wedding. And a lovely wedding it was, Marjy. You and Athelas looked beautiful,” Merry said, smiling broadly at Marjy.

“Pippin and me?” She mumbled as she started to slip towards the floor.

“Catch her!” Merry shouted as Jebbin turned to grasp his wife. He grasped her awkwardly about the waist, trying not to drop his candle. Marjy’s candlestick fell to the floor and, fortunately, went out. Jebbin carefully walked her to her desk chair instead of the more comfortable chair near the hearth. He didn’t think she needed to be any closer to the ghost at the moment.

Marjy looked up at Jebbin as he placed his candle on her desk. “Pippin and me?” She said once more.

“Yes, dear, I . . .”

“Pippin?” Marjy took a deep breath before continuing. “There was a second Thain by that name and, I dare say, countless other Took lads by that name. But . . .” She paused to swallow. “But I’ve the feeling that those aren’t the ones he means. I’ve the feeling I owe Athelas an apology.”

“Athelas?” Jebbin asked.

“She told me . . . she . . . I thought it was a jest, her being a Took and all, and a rather mischievous one at that. I thought she was having me on. But . . .” Marjy looked over at the visitor though she continued to speak with her husband. “She said that she had gone with you and your brother to a mathom room here at the Hall, and that you had all seen the ghosts of Meriadoc the Magnificent and Peregrin the Peerless there. She said that you and Other had seen them before.”

“She was telling you the truth, Marjy,” Jebbin said softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I honestly thought the only place we could see them was the mathom room.” He glared at the ghost. “I most certainly didn’t expect either one of them to simply show up in our apartment.”

“I seem to be doomed to provoke you, Jebbin,” Merry sadly said. “I really meant no harm. I didn’t even know I was coming to your apartment. I simply wanted to think about what I wanted to speak with you about. I’ve come to my study to think many times, but it always looked as it did before
. . . as it did when I . . .” Merry looked around uncomfortably. “It always looked as it did when I was alive. It did when I arrived here and sat down to think. I always had a couple of chairs over here by the hearth.”

The ghost walked about the room, though he kept his distance from Marjy.

“My secretary’s desk was here,” he said while running a finger over the edge of Jebbin’s desk. “Mine was where your desk is, Marjy. There were paintings of views of the Brandywine upon the walls and a portrait of my parents.” He turned to face the fireplace. “The sword King Eomer gave me hung over the hearth.”

Merry walked over to lean his arms and head against the mantle. His shoulders sagged as though he bore a burden.

“I took it with me when I left the Shire. When I left to say a final goodbye to my King and to see Strider, the High King Elessar, once again. Left with Pippin to find a peace that home no longer gave us.”

He remained standing thus for a long moment and Marjy’s heart was moved for him, her fear and shock at his appearing now gone. He straightened up and squared his shoulders, turning to face them again.

“My apologies, as I said, the room has always looked the same to me whenever I’ve come here to think. I had no idea you now lived here, ah, that my study was now your study. All I knew was that I was wanting to speak with you and wasn’t sure how to manage it as the other times had just seemed to happen. I didn’t know whether I could make it happen, if there was a way to let you know . . .” The ghost of Meriadoc the Magnificent tipped his head to one side. “This really is bewildering at times. I’m not as acclimated to it as Pippin seems to be.”

Jebbin looked at his spectral ancestor and his expression softened. The ghostly Meriadoc was obviously genuinely sorry for just appearing in their study. “It’s all right, Merry. No harm done, although I think my wife and I could use some strong tea.” He turned to Marjy. “Would you mind fetching some tea, love?”

“Not at all, dear.” She turned to the ghost. “Would you . . . can you . . . ah . . .”

“I . . . ah.” Merry thought for a moment before raising his left eyebrow and twisting his mouth to right in a defeated, perplexed expression. “I can’t. I’m able to eat wherever it is that I am when I’m not here, I’m sure I do, but I’m equally certain that I can’t eat here. I’m sorry. It’s rather rude but . . . I can’t. No need for that to stop you two from fortifying yourselves. Please get something for the two of you. I’ll just chat nicely with Jebbin until you return. Then I’ll get to the matter that brought me here.”

Marjy nodded to Merry and Jebbin, then went after the tea things. Jebbin picked up the candle then sat down in the chair at the right side of the hearth, placing the candle stick on the table by his right arm. The Ghost sat as he had before, in the chair upon the left. Jebbin and Merry looked at one another, saying nothing.