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Kindred  by GamgeeFest

A/N: Back in olden times, “to make love” simply meant to kiss someone on the mouth. ;)




The next time Twitch woke, it was to the Thain shaking his shoulder. “It’s time we’re off, lad,” he said, sounding more cheerful. 

Twitch sat up and yawned, blinking at the woods around him. The sun was now over the horizon and the dark night sky had given way at last to bright blue. Twitch stood and helped the Thain to his feet. They brushed themselves off and returned to the carriage without another word. Twitch opened the carriage door, stifling another yawn.

The Thain paused before getting into the carriage. “Your questions shall be answered, lad, once we’re a little farther from the Tooklands. Old habits die hard, you know,” he said and permitted Twitch to help him into the carriage again.

Twitch met the Thain’s eyes before closing the carriage door, stumped by such a cryptic announcement. Just what was going on here, and why, of all the more experienced and qualified drivers, had the Thain asked for him, Twitch son of Sprig, specifically? 



~*~



Chapter 6 – Admonitions 

Amber returned to the Took camp in time for the second serving. While still puffy-eyed, she looked refreshed and at ease, smiling freely. Heather made her a plate as she checked on Arlo, who was sitting obediently between his aunt and grandmother. 

Amber scooped her son into her lap, and Arlo leaned against her chest. 

“Are you still angry with me, Mummy?” he asked.

“No, lamb, I’m not angry anymore,” she said, sneaking a wink at Ferumbras, who sat nearby. They shared a secret smile, and Amber kissed the top of Arlo’s head. “I must apologize also. I overreacted earlier, so I’ll tell you what. You can play with your friends, but no dessert.”

“But Auntie Alaura made bread pudding,” Arlo protested. 

“All right, but if you have dessert, you can’t play with your cousins. It’s one or the other. You choose,” Amber said. She placed him back in his seat and took the plate that Heather handed her. 

Arlo remained beside his mother, leaning against her side as she ate, until the other children finished their meal and began playing. He sat, torn between his two choices. On the one hand, he wanted desperately to play. On the other, Alaura didn’t make her bread pudding every day. 

He might have sat there all night, except that the brothers Berengar and Hagar, grandsons of Isengar, ran past at one point, giggling infectiously. Hagar caught Arlo’s eye, reached out a hand and pulled Arlo off his perch, never once breaking stride as they ran away from the pursuit of their cousin Verbana. They had stolen the last of her mince pie as she was looking over designs for Alchemilla’s wedding gown, and she was most upset with them.

“You’re looking well,” Clematis said to her daughter.

“I’m feeling well, thanks to Rumbi,” Amber said.

“Why? What did Rumbi do?” Ami asked.

“He listened,” Amber said and commenced with her meal. 




Two hours later, they all returned to the inn. Pally, not eager to repeat the morning’s misadventure, had arranged to camp with Saradoc and Merimac for the remainder of the fair. Ami and Esme would be bunking with Alchemilla and her sister Dicentra tonight, and Heather would be staying with her good cousins Bergenia and Chrysanthemum, daughters of Isengar and spinsters both. Amber, too worn with spent emotions, couldn’t fathom sleeping on hard ground tonight. She would instead be keeping Dora company at The Soaring Falcon. Arlo had remained at the camp with his friends Berengar and Hagar. He would be sleeping over with them, borrowing a nightgown from Hagar, who was only two years his senior and small for his age. 

Pally and Adalgrim took seats at the bar to throw back a pint or two while the lasses retired to the room to wash and change. Ami and Esme changed into their nightgowns, pulling on cloaks that would cover them decently for their return trip over the fairgrounds. Their dresses for the morning they would carry folded over their arms. Heather opted to changed into the gown she would wear the following day, tucking her nightgown over her arm. Heather also took a change of clothes for Arlo in the morning. Hugging their mother and Amber good-night, the lasses returned to the common room.

“You can go in now,” Heather said sweetly to Pally. “Good night, Da.”

The lasses stepped outside, but Ami stopped at the stables. “You two go on ahead. I need to ask Sprig for a favor,” she said.

Heather and Esme both raised an eyebrow, their expressions identical. “Don’t be too long,” Heather said, and she and Esme continued over the grounds in silence.

Ami knocked on the main door. She didn’t want to just poke her head inside, lest the lads also be preparing for the night. A minute passed before someone answered: a lad just into his tweens, with a pock-face and springy black hair. His jaw dropped at the sight of her.

“Hallo!” Ami greeted cheerfully. “I’m looking for Sprig. Can you tell him Ami Took is here to see him?”

The lad continued to ogle at Ami until another lad came up behind him and kicked him in the shins. The lad’s jaw clamped shut. “We’ll fetch ‘im out for ‘ee,” the other lad promised, pulling the first lad away from the door in an almost brutal fashion.

Sprig came out a minute later. He smiled when he saw her. “Evening to you, Miss Darling.”

“Good evening, Sprig. How was your day?” Ami asked.

“Well enough, thanks,” Sprig answered. “I trust your own day went fine.”

Ami’s features darkened slightly but the moment passed quickly. She smiled, eyes sparkling in the lamplight from the covered sconces over the doorway. “It did. Actually, that’s why I’m here. I met this lad today by the name of Perry Nettleburr. He’s from out of Pincup and this is his first year being at the Fair. He was rather overwhelmed, and he’s here all by himself. I was wondering, if you wouldn’t mind too terribly, if you could search him out tomorrow? You could explore the fair together and I’m sure he’d be eager for the ear of a fellow townshobbit.”

“Oh, aye,” Sprig said, in a non-committal tone. The name Perry Nettleburr did not sound familiar in the least. He knew of no family by that name either. While he hadn’t lived in Pincup for some years now, he knew all the families who lived there, and this Nettleburr chap must be older than himself to be at the fair alone. Perhaps the family had moved there after Sprig had begun his apprenticeship at the Great Smials, though it seemed unlikely that his mother would never mention it. 

“So, will you do it?” Ami asked, looking as hopeful as she could manage.

“Where in Pincup his folk come from exactly?” Sprig asked.

“He said he’s from outside of Pincup, a ranch called Nohill. He has sheep,” Ami said.

“Sheep?” A few farmers kept some sheep about their farms, for the wool and mutton, but there were certainly no sheep ranches. Outside of Pincup… His eyes widened as a sudden thought struck him. But surely, she couldn’t mean… “Black-faced sheep?” he asked.

Ami nodded eagerly. She put a hand on his arm out of impulse. “Oh, they are the most adorable sheep, and so well-behaved! It’s a wonder, indeed. You know of his family, then?”

“Aye,” Sprig said and quickly made up his mind. He wanted to talk with this Nettleburr chap and find out what exactly he was up to. “Aye, I ken somewhat about them. I’ll be glad to call on him in the morrow. He’ll be with the livestock then?”

“He will. Oh, thank you, Sprig!” Amy hugged him and kissed his cheek, making him blush furiously. The whoops and hollers from the hayloft behind him didn’t help. He inched over, blocking their view of Ami as much as he could. “I do appreciate this. He needs a friend, poor lad. Oh, and another thing. You and Nab are invited to my birthday party. You will come, won’t you? There’s going to be truffles.”

Sprig did like truffles. “I’ll ask the master ostler if we’re able,” he promised.

“Wonderful!” Ami said, clapping her hands. “I’ll see you later, then. Good night, Sprig, and do say good-night to Nab for me.”

“I will, Miss Darling,” Sprig said. He bowed, face blazing, and closed the door with much relief. He turned to find the other stable hands all grinning at him from the hayloft. Nab looked both amused and befuddled at the same time.

“Why, Sprig, if you aren’t the Darling of the Tooklands now,” one lad teased, to the approval of his mates.

“That I’m not,” Sprig said. “Miss Amaryllis is a fine and proper lass, and I won’t be having you make such suggestions of her.”

“‘Tis but a joke, lad,” Nab said. “‘Cept why’d you have to tell her as we’d be going to her party? If it were to help serve and take coats, that’d be one thing, but sounds to me as she’s expecting us to come as guests.”

“I didn’t say we’d go. I said I’d ask,” Sprig said. 

“Aye, and who’ll deny us the lass’s wishes, huh?” Nab asked. “She’s knows it, what’s more, and she’ll be expecting us now.”

“We’d’ve been invited had we been at Great Smials,” Sprig said, not understanding. “There’ll be other servants there.”

“True enough, and they’ll be serving,” Nab said.

“Then we’ll serve her too,” Sprig said, to renewed laughter. His face reddened again, this time with indignation. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Come now. Your Darling seems to have a thing for rusty lads,” said one ostler, thinking of the shepherd lad. “I’m sure she’d mind none if you offered to serve her.”

“And I’m sure I said as no one aught speak ill of Miss Amaryllis,” Sprig said, his tone dangerous.

“Hush Nort,” the lad’s friend said. “You oughtn’t speak of your betters so.”

The discussion ended there and Sprig went to his sleeping roll. He lay down and closed his eyes, but he was far from tired. He would speak with Nort privately as soon as he may, and he would speak with Nettleburr and discover his ploy. His hands closed into fists beneath the cover of his blanket. He would gladly pummel anyone who posed a threat to his Darling’s good name.

Wait. His Darling?

Sprig groaned inwardly and wondered what the others would think if he were to turn those fists on himself. Drat that Nab for always being right, but he did love Miss Ami so, for all that it could never be.




Ami turned from the door and found Pally standing on the walk path, watching her with a scowl on his lean face. She lifted her chin and marched up to him, crossing her arms as she stopped before him.

“What?” she asked.

“What?” Pally repeated. “What?! What do you think?”

“I think many things, Pally. Right now I’m thinking you’re a spy,” Ami retorted.

“And a good thing for you that I am,” Pally said. He took her arm and marched her off towards the fairgrounds. “I don’t believe you, acting in such a fashion!”

“What did I do now?” Ami asked, panting slightly as she trotted to keep up with her brother’s longer stride. He might be two years her junior, but he already towered over her by nearly half a foot.

“As if you don’t know,” Pally said. “Did you already forget our talk yesterday?”

“Of course I haven’t. That’s why I asked Sprig if he would check on Perry tomorrow,” Ami said.

Pally snorted. “Is that so? That’s why you went out to the stables in the dead of night in naught but your shift and a thin coat, and then proceeded to make love to him in front of all the stable lads?”

Ami stopped short at this and yanked her arm from her brother’s hand. She whirled around on her heel and glared at him. “How dare you!”

“How dare you!” Pally shouted back, glad there was no one near enough to hear them. “What do you think it looks like, Ami? A lass of your standing, going to visit an ostler at this hour? Hugging him and kissing him in full view of everyone in the common room?”

“I asked him to do a favor!” Ami said. “Because of you! Because you said I shouldn’t be seen talking to working lads. So I waited until no one would be around to see, and I asked him to befriend Perry, since I’m sure I’m not allowed to talk to him either, but the poor lad has no one here to help him, and I am not going to just let him go floundering about.”

“Perry? Would this be the shepherd lad everyone saw you flirting with up and down the fairgrounds this morning, and pawing all over outside the bakery? Honestly, Ami. If you’re not going to listen to me, I thought you would at least listen to Rumbi.”

Ami gaped at her brother. Her disbelief was insurmountable, not only at her brother’s words regarding her own behavior, but at his indication that anyone paid such notice to it. Not to mention that Rumbi now was supposed to be in league with her brother. First Lalia and now this! If she was glad for anything, it was that the day at last was coming to an end.

Seeing his sister so flabbergasted, Pally made an effort to calm himself. He took a long deep breath, held it for a count of ten, then let it out slowly. He took Ami’s arms in his hands, squeezing gently. “You’re not a child anymore, Darling. You’re a young lass of courting age, about to come of age in another year. You must take more care for your reputation. I don’t want the things I’ve heard about you today to be repeated ever again.”

“What things?” Ami whispered. If she attempted to speak any louder, she would cry. Or shout. Or possibly do both.

“They’re not worth repeating,” Pally said. He pulled her closer and kissed her brow. “Don’t make me fret over you so, hm?”

“I guess I just didn’t think,” Ami said, shrugging as best she could with her brother holding onto her arms. “I didn’t realize that… anyone would say…”

“I know. You’re too accustomed to everyone giving you sunshine and roses,” Pally said. “But you are a grown lass, now. They won’t be so forgiving or blind-sighted to your actions anymore. What’s more, we’re not in Tookland. Other folk have a different way of seeing you than we do. So please, refrain from flashing your dimples at every lad who crosses your path? You don’t want the reputation of being a coquette, much less a seductress of the lower classes.” 

“No, of course not,” Ami agreed, still whispering. An icy cold prickle ran over her skin, centering at the back of her neck and head, as she at last understood the precarious position into which she had unthinkingly put herself. “Thank you, Pally, for looking after me.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Pally said. He took her arm again and proceeded to lead her towards the camping circles. “I do agree though, that it isn’t fair, about us lads getting to flirt with the serving lasses at the inns, while you lasses can’t flirt with the working lads.” He shrugged himself. “But that’s just the way of things, and far be it for me to try to make sense of it.”

“You could stop flirting with the serving lasses,” Ami said, smirking. He answered this with a wordless grunt; he might agree with her, but that didn’t mean he was going to change his behavior. “So what should I have done instead? Let that poor lad starve?”

“Of course not. If he’s too proud to take your coin, then I’m sure Da would have gladly sent him a basket as a welcome gift,” Pally said. “I suppose I have some guilt to share in this though. If you have a request to make of Sprig or Nab, then by all means ask it of them, just not in your shift, all right? And make sure you have an escort next time, even if it’s only Esme.”

“All right,” Ami agreed, even as she quailed against the restraints being lowered around her. 

She had been of courting age for four years, and she had courted plenty of lads in that time, leaving behind a trail of broken hearts if one listened to Dicentra and Rosamunda. It was nonsense, of course, for the lads never took more than a week to find another lass on whom to spend their affections. Was it only because she was getting so close to her coming of age that folk suddenly decided to make issue of her actions, or was it as Pally said, that they were no longer in Tookland? Did the transition from twenty-seven to twenty-eight really make that much of a difference for lasses in the rest of the Shire?

She suddenly wished the fair was over and she and her family on their way back to Whitwell. She wasn’t sure if she could restrain herself for four days, nor play the role of the haughty gentle-lass towards her friends without feeling horrid. And they were her friends, whether Pally or anyone else liked it or not.

They reached the camping circles in silence. Pally found Sara and Mac quickly enough, as they were still sitting by the fire pit, tucking in the corners with a third helping of Alaura’s bread pudding. Ami wished the lads good night and wound her way around the circle until she found Sigibert’s tent.

Esmeralda was already there, tucked in between Dicenta and Alchemilla. They were talking in whispers, so their voices were heard only as murmurs, but Ami guessed they were discussing the wedding yet again. Ami hoped that such fuss wasn’t made over her nuptials, whenever she decided to marry, but she knew the likeliness of that was slim to nil. The Tooks didn’t understand the concept of a simple wedding, much less a small one.

Her sister and cousins scooted over to make room for her. She shed her coat, adding it to the lump of clothes on the floor, but she stored her dress for the morning on a small bench next to Esme’s dress. She scooted under the blankets and pillowed her head on her upraised arms. 

“Do you think I’m a seductress of the lower classes?” she asked abruptly, ignoring their greetings.

A moment of stunned silence was quickly filled with eager reassurances.

“Of course not!” Dicentra said, sounding scandalized at the mere thought.

“Who would dare say such a thing of you?” Alchemilla demanded, offended on her friend’s behalf.

“It’s utter nonsense. Who would dream up such foolery?” Esme asked.

“Pally said that folk are saying that about me, because I took that lad to get some bread,” Ami said. “He said I should have brought my concerns to Da, so he could send Perry a food basket as a welcome gift instead.”

Her friends shared a glance over her head, the silence this time only confirming her brother’s statement, despite their quickly continued reassurances.

“Pally’s just upset because Delana Hornblower refused his advances,” Esme said. “Don’t pay him any mind.”

“Who’s to say how long it might have taken Uncle Algie to send that poor lad a food basket? He could have passed out from hunger before then!” Dicentra exclaimed.

“You must act as you feel appropriate for the moment. You needn’t explain yourself to anyone,” Alchemilla said.

“But you heard folk say those things about me too?” Ami asked.

“Sweetie, people can be fools,” Alchemilla said. “Let them say what they will. They’ll see you are nothing of the sort and they’ll move on to something else. Such is the way of things. Why, just last year, folk were saying that I was doomed to end up an old maid.”

“You were only 35!” Esme said.

“With no suitors though,” Alchemilla said. “It didn’t matter how much I said that I wouldn’t just court any lad to make them happy. They made up their own minds and went about blathering their conclusions to anyone who would listen. And now here am I, about to be married.”

“Just be a duck,” Dicentra said.

“A duck?” the others asked.

Dicentra nodded. “Ducks don’t let water bother them,” she explained, shuddering at the thought of water. “They just let it roll off their backs, or so they say.”

“Be a duck,” Ami said. “I’m Ami the Duck.”

“Darling the Duck,” Alchemilla corrected, and the lasses laughed. Alchemilla sat up and put her hand to her chest, in perfect imitation of Lalia putting on airs. “Ducky-Darling! Why, your feathers are just glistening. What worms and muck are you eating? I must know!”

The lasses chortled aloud at this, causing those who had not yet drifted off to sleep to rebuke them with shushing noises. They quickly stifled their laughter but continued to snigger to the point of tears for many minutes. 

“Oh, Millie,” Ami said at last, still chuckling, “I needed that.”

“Don’t trouble yourself over fools, dearest. You’ll only end looking the fool for it,” Alchemilla advised. 

“I won’t,” Ami said and settled in for a long discussion of wedding dresses and the virtue of wearing veils instead of wreaths. 




Perry stretched against the night-cooled grass, the smell of wildflowers, hay, sheep, ponies and cows surrounding him on all sides. His herd clustered around him in slumbering groups of woolly contentment. One ewe even offered herself as a pillow for him, so long as he didn’t move too much. He lay still, looking up at the stars and going over the events of the day.

He was still nervous about what the next four days might bring, but he was feeling more confident in his plan now that he was here. Sitting around the cooking pits at home, it had been easy to listen to his grandmother’s warnings and the nay-saying of his neighbors and sisters. His brother alone had supported his idea of seeking trade, but he had understandably chosen to remain at home. There had been any number of times that Perry nearly turned around himself; it was pride more than anything else that kept him moving forward. He would not return home in disgrace when he had promised so much.

It had been on a night such as this that he had first learned of the fairs. He and his family had been sleeping under the stars as their hole had once again been flooded by the midsummer rains. His father had still been with them, and when they had complained about sleeping in the open, the old hobbit had just laughed.

“Ye’d be sleeping just the same at the Free Fair, or so I’m told,” Old Hobby had said. “I’ve never been meself, but your Papa can tell ‘ee a bit about ‘em. He’d gone a few times in his youth, and they sleep just like this. He’s told me so many times, he has.”

“What’s a Free Fair?” Perry had asked.

“It’s a grand thing, it is,” Hobby had answered. “Folk come from all over the Shire for the trade and contests and whatnot.”

“How come we don’t go?” Merlin, Perry’s brother, had asked.

“No place for the likes of us,” Hobby had answered. “We couldn’t do more’n stare and get in the way, and they’ll no thank us for it.”

Perry sighed and wished his parents could be here to see him now, among the general population of the Shire. If not quite fitting in, he was hardly getting in the way, and he would, with luck and a great job of pretending competence, be returning home with the very beasts that would guarantee his people a more prosperous future. 

He had wanted to come for years, but had been waylaid by his grandfather. As head of the family, as well as the leader of their little settlement, his word was law. Or had been. His grandfather had passed the previous year, shortly after midsummer, and Perry had taken it as a sign that he was meant to come to the fair this year. Problem was, none of them knew where the fair was held.

Their grandmother was against going outside to find help, but Perry, now the head of the family, overruled her, as much as it hurt him to do so. He knew, beyond doubt, that this was a necessary first step if they were ever to improve their lots in life. He had forged ahead with his plans, despite the protests of everyone else. Merlin had agreed to set out for the nearest farms and ask whatever workers he might come across for information. It had taken them well into winter before they had as much information as Perry thought themselves likely to get, and he had spent the cold, wet months making his plans. 

Now he was here. He still could not quite believe it. For starters, the Shire was much larger than he had thought it was, and the folk much kinder. He thought again of his lovely benefactor from that morning. Ami, his sun-star. The burly lad he had seen her talking with was her cousin, though this didn’t dismiss the possibility of romantic interest between them. He couldn’t be sure that Ferumbras had been offering friendly assistance or merely pretending to do so in order to discover more about his origins. Had Ami sent him? Clearly, she had told her cousin something.

Perry sighed and shoved her from his thoughts. He had not come to bring back a wife, after all, and while he would hope to chance upon her again, he wouldn’t hold his breath for it. 

He had met many of his neighboring fairgoers in the afternoon. When he returned from his meal of bread and tea, there had been a group of admirers outside his pen, feeding his sheep and cooing over them. He returned their interest by going to their pens to view their beasts. In chatting with his neighbors, he managed to find out quite a lot about the fair, those who attended them and what was expected. If his new acquaintances noticed that he gave away nothing of himself, they didn’t say anything about it.

He had been invited to dinner with a pony-breeder and his family, but he had been forced to decline as he would not be able to reciprocate the favor. He might not know much about the way of things in the Shire at general, but he was fairly certain that a favor accepted was a favor offered in return. He could not afford to be indebted to anyone, so he had declined on the purpose of needing to settle down his sheep for the night. Ami’s cousin had found him then, but thankfully had not stayed long. Once the sheep were tended and fed, he had taken his sling and gone out in search of dinner for himself, felling a rabbit and gathering some herbs for a thin soup. 

His stomach now full and his thirst satisfied, he went over his plan again. Tomorrow was First Lithe. In the morning, he would lead his sheep around for a walk for fresh grass to chew on. Then he would wander the grounds and observe folk at their trades. In the afternoon, he would make what conversation he could with the other fairgoers and make them aware of his intent to trade. He would see what offers he received, but would not accept anything just yet.

The following day would be Mid-Year’s Day, the mayoral election. This was of no consequence to him. There would still be plenty of folk about to make trade with, but if those he spoke with the day before should by chance be required to attend the election, then Perry might be able to talk them into a beneficial trade. It was a long shot, but one worth trying. If anyone wanting to trade on the day itself knew that some of his herd was already spoken for, that could make trading with him more appealing and thus give him the upper hand. If not, then he would simply have to do the best that he could.

Overlithe followed, and he hoped to do the majority of his trading on this day and fulfill any accepted offers from the previous days. He would have only this day and the next to acquaint himself with his new herd. He hoped it would be enough time for them to willingly follow him all the way home. He wasn’t familiar with the ways of cows, but the hobbits he had spoken with today assured him they were easygoing creatures, if lazy. 

He thought he might wait a day before heading home, leaving on the second of Forelithe to avoid the main rush of hobbits who left on the first. He might not be able to remain calm if he left with everyone else, and if there was one thing he did know about beasts of any kind it was they responded better to someone who was calm than someone who was upset and anxious. 

He yawned widely, his jaw popping with the effort. His plans now as secure as they were going to get, he returned again to thoughts of Ami. He owed the lass a favor, and the debt gnawed at him. He knew there was little he could do to repay her for the kindness she had shown him, but he was determined to find a way before the fair was over and she was gone for good. She had invited him to her party on Overlithe. It was likely to be the only other time he would see her. There must be some gift he could give her suitable enough to repay her, yet the only thing he possessed, besides his clothes and his sheep, were the pelts from the game he had hunted on his way to the fair.

“Well then, Perry, ye’d best make sure as they’re the nicest pelts she’s ever got,” he murmured to himself. 

This final decision made, he closed his eyes and drifted off to his dreams.





To be continued…




GF 7/19/11





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