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Kindred  by GamgeeFest

Ferumbras almost didn’t notice when they reached the town center. His mind had wandered again, now to events beyond the last week. 

Lalia hadn’t been so foolish to overlook how little regard in which her fellow Hobbits held her. On rare occasions, she would let Ferumbras see how much it bothered her, but that was usually after a few too many shots of gin. Overall, she held herself tall, her chin even higher, and ignored the forced politeness of those who had to deal with her. She considered their various relations who refused to visit to be good riddances: one less family to accommodate, one less person to find mathoms for come Yule or her birthday. She was too proud to back down on her word, to take back slights and ask forgiveness for her rulings. She was proud, but not invulnerable. Ferumbras sometimes wondered if she was perhaps the most vulnerable person he knew.

He knew of only one thing that had ever truly hurt her, and that was when he finally left the nest for his own apartment. He hadn’t moved far away, just a few tunnels down, but to Lalia, it had been as though he moved clear across the Shire. “My own son,” she had muttered the whole time he was packing. “My own son would forsake me.” 

Ferumbras supposed he could have picked a better time to move out, rather than the week after his father’s passing. He had been upset that his mother refused to hand over the title of The Took to him, not because he particularly wanted it but because of what she might do with that position. She and Father had ever squabbled over decisions concerning the Family and the Tooklands. Now she had free reign to do as she pleased.

So Ferumbras moved out and his mother didn’t speak to him for nearly a month. She had ignored him in the tunnels and even at the dinner table, though she didn’t banish him from the head table as many thought she would. She may have continued to ignore him had he not come down with influenza. He had spent a miserable week in bed, his mother at his side the whole while. When he was well again, they simply went on as though the previous month had not happened, as though she had always been supportive of him moving out. It was simply easier that way. If they had started talking about that, there was no telling what other topics might awaken.

Best to leave the past in the past.

Then a week before her passing, Lalia invited Ferumbras to tea. What she said then astonished him to no end.

“I’ve made mistakes, Rumbi.” She was the only one who still called him that. “I quail to think of the happiness I’ve cost you. I no longer wish to be The Took, and I’ll announce it next month at my birthday. You’ll be The Took at last, as you should have always been.”

“Mother, are you ill?” Ferumbras had asked, full of concern. 

Lalia scoffed and patted his cheek. “Of course not, dearest. Eat your crumpets.”

Ferumbras smiled now, remembering that tea. Had she known somehow that her time was nearly at its end? The thought passed his mind fleetingly that his mother might have orchestrated that fall, but he pushed it firmly from his mind. It had been an accident, nothing more. Sooner or later, the other Tooks would believe it as well and Pearl would be able to put the whole incident behind her. 

He surfaced from his remembrances in time to feel the carriage slow to a halt.




Chapter 11 - 2 Lithe  

Amber waited anxiously as the healer examined Arlo a final time in Dora’s room in The Soaring Falcon. She had stayed again with Dora, giving Ami and her friends the room at the Pheasant to continue their party, and to be close to the healer, just in case. 

The healer’s face was hard to read, but Amber thought she saw a hint of a smile turning up an otherwise stern mouth. 

“You’re using the salve?”

“Yes, three times a day as you said.”

“And the juice?”

“Yes, as often as he’ll take it.”

“And the sun?”

“No, Miss, he hasn’t been allowed outside except for after sunset. It’s been hard, but he sleeps most of the time, which helps.”

“Is he sleeping that much?”

“Should he not be?” Amber wrung her hands, hoping she hadn’t done something wrong again. She would likely never forget the lecture the healer had given her the previous day for waiting so long to seek her services, and she felt like a foolish child every time she thought of it. 

The healer stood and pulled the sleeves of Arlo’s nightgown back down. She turned a level eye on Amber, then actually did smile. “He’s recovering quickly, lass. You’ve done well.”

Amber sighed and hugged the healer. “Thank you!”

“Keep him out of the sun for another week at least. When you get home, see your healer there. I wrote down the receipts for the juices and salves, though I’m sure she knows them already.” She indicated the folded letter Amber gripped in her hands.

“Our healer is a chap,” Amber said.

The healer paused at this but said nothing. Male healers were not unheard of but were a rarity in most of the Shire. The healer gathered her things. “He can write me if he has any questions.”

Amber saw her to the door and handed her a small purse with her payment.

“This is too much, child,” the healer said, feeling the weight of the purse.

“It’s mostly farthings,” Amber said, though it was in truth more than she would normally pay a healer. Considering the severity of her son’s condition though, she felt that the healer had earned every coin, including the three pennies that lay hidden at the bottom.

“Take care,” the healer said and let herself out.

Amber sat next to Arlo. “Can I go outside today, Mama?”

“Sorry, love, you heard the healer. I’d rather row with the Thain, Master and Mayor before crossing a healer,” Amber said. She reached for the jar of salve on the table. “Time for your next treatment, love.”

“Will I start peeling soon?” Arlo asked. He was beyond excited about his eventual malting. In the absence of being able to do anything else, Amber couldn’t blame him for his fascination.

“Very soon,” she said. She dipped her hand in the salve and started to spread the cream over his arms and upper chest. “By tomorrow, I would guess.”

“Really?” he asked. “Can I save them?”

“No, but you can toss them in the fire,” she said.

A knock sounded on the door and Dora entered. Behind her, a barmaid carried a tray of tea and first breakfast for them all. Amber finished applying the salve, washed her hands, then allowed Arlo out of bed to sit at the parlor table to eat first breakfast. The barmaid set the table, bobbed and left, clicking the door closed behind her.

“Did you enjoy your time at the party, Dora?” Amber asked. 

Dora yawned. She had been among the first to leave but was still tired from staying out so late. She had forgotten that Took parties tended to last well beyond the hour of sensibility. “It was a lovely affair, quite marvelous by all standards,” she said. “How are you holding up, dear?” She gave her a stern look, similar to that of the healer.

“I just feel a fool,” Amber said. “I knew he wasn’t doing well. I don’t know why I didn’t call for a healer sooner. I just kept imagining every horrible thing she might tell me and I couldn’t bare it.”

“There’s no point in ‘should haves’,” Dora said. “You’ll know not to wait so long next time.”

Amber hummed. “Next time. Does there have to be one of those?”

“There always is,” Dora said. “No point fretting over something that hasn’t happened yet, isn’t that right, young lad?”

Arlo nodded. “Can we eat now?” he asked.

“Indeed we can,” Dora said and they dug into their meal.

After they finished eating, they sent Arlo to Bilbo’s room next door. He was well enough that when he wasn’t sleeping he was antsy and impatient. Bilbo could entertain him far more easily than they could. 

Once Arlo was gone and the food cleared, Dora motioned for Amber to sit again. She studied Amber for several moments, her clever brown eyes taking in everything about her cousin’s appearance. When Amber thought she couldn’t withstand that stare a moment longer, Dora finally spoke.

“I know you miss your Mallard and the life that could have been,” she started, empathy in her eyes, “but you have a son to think about. You’ve mourned their loss long enough.”

“You know I value your advice, Dora, but you never married and you’re not a mother.”

“But I have loved, child. And lost. Grieving is good when it helps us heal, but not when we let it fester. Mallard would be heartbroken to see you like this. It’s time to start living again, lass. Go home to Whitwell and get yourself together again. I think your sister needs it as well. Heather has been spending so much time taking care of you and Arlo, she’s been ignoring herself.”

“I know,” Amber said. “She already told me she intends to stay at home through the winter. I said I would stay too, but I’m wondering now if it wouldn’t be wiser to return to Tuckborough without her.”

“You’ll know when it’s time to leave,” Dora said. “I do not think it’s necessary to leave Heather behind. She just needs to know you’re well again. We all do.”

Amber smiled gamely. “I’ll get better,” she promised and, for the first time since that fateful morning when she woke from her fever dreams and realized her world had broken around her, she realized she meant it. 




Lalia woke first. Always an early riser, no matter how long she had stayed up the night before, she dressed quietly and went outside to enjoy a walk through the grounds before the bustle of the day made it nearly impossible to move around freely. She said good mornings to those she passed but was glad when they didn’t stop to talk. She wandered around the near-empty stalls and booths, looking at the things on display. She had done most of her shopping already, but there were a couple of items she still had her eye on. She was disappointed to see that most of these had been sold or traded already, but the birch snuffbox was still there. She picked it up and looked at it again, admiring the expertise of the hand that made it. It would make a fine Yule gift for Fortinbras, and she could keep it at Gardenia’s so he wouldn’t stumble upon it by accident.

Some of the vendors and traders were already arriving to set up their booths, so Lalia lingered, perusing the other stalls while she waited. A few more early shoppers arrived, no doubt with the same intention as her. She remained away from the snuffboxes though as no one else had yet shown an interest in them. Just before eight, a hobbitess came up the lane munching on a scone and carrying a cup of tea. When she neared the snuffbox booth, Lalia made her move. She made it to the stall just before another lady and rested her hand on the birch box. The other lady scowled for a moment but politely moved on to look at the other boxes instead.

“Good morning, lass,” Lalia greeted.

“Good mornin’ to ye, Mistress,” the young hobbitess said cheerily. “I see yer eyein’ me box there. That one took me three weeks to finish, polish and all.”

“You made this yourself?” Lalia asked, surprised by this. Many of the vendors sold their own creations, but just as many hired workers to do the selling for them. Lalia looked at the box again, the carefully carved design on the lid, a birch tree and the hint of hobbit smoking at its roots. It was varnished and polished to a bright, high shine, and her critical fingers could not find a bump, dip or jagged edge anywhere. “It’s a marvelous piece. May I ask, who taught you your craft?”

“Me mam,” the lass said. “She only ‘prentices a lad or lass at a time, but she’s got the arthritis now and can’t be holding them wee tools for endless hours at a time anymore. ‘Tis a shame. She had real talent.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Lalia said. “What are you asking for this piece?”

“Fer ye, Mistress, not but three pennies,” the lass said.

It was easily worth twice that amount. Wondering why the lass would offer it for so little, Lalia opened the box and inspected the inside. Fine velvet lined the inside of the box, and the fit of the lid was tight and sure. The hinge was simple metal, nothing fancy there, but it opened easily and flawlessly. 

“You underestimate your skill, lass,” Lalia said and eyed the lass more closely. Sharp, keen eyes looked back at her. “But I suspect you know that. No doubt hoping I’ll end up offering more and save yourself the haggling.”

The lass laughed and snapped her fingers. “Yer the first as caught that ‘un, Mistress!” she said, not bothering to deny it. It was a risky tactic, but Lalia was certain it had worked well for her - until now. 

“I’ll give you two pennies,” she said.

“It’s three, or ye can move on,” the lass said sweetly. “Ye were here the last two days eyeing that one.  Ye want it that bad to come yerself, ye’ll pay three.”

Lalia huffed, then laughed. She reached into her purse and withdrew three pennies and a half dozen farthings. “Here’s a tip for you, lass,” she said, handing over the coins.

The lass took the coins, wrapped the box in a rag and took another bite of her scone. 

Laughing still, Lalia left the lass to her other customer. She hoped the lass was good at haggling, as there was no way the other lady had missed hearing their exchange. She had a feeling the lass would do just fine.

Lalia returned to the tent and found Rumbi and Fortinbras awake and already eating. She placed her purchase in her trunk and sat with her family. Fortinbras smiled. “Out robbing vendors already?” he asked, leaning over to peck her cheek.

“I was the one robbed this time,” Lalia said, “but it was worth every coin.”

Rumbi yawned. His hair was sticking out in various directions. Even his foot hair was matted and tangled. 

“Nervous, dearest?” she asked.

“Hm?”

“You must ask Darling today, if you’re going to,” Lalia said. “Try not to over think it. Just out and ask the lass. She will be lucky to have you for a husband.”

Rumbi nodded. “Yes, Mother.”

“Don’t dawdle now,” Lalia said. “After today, you won’t see her again until Yule, or longer, and who knows what can happen in that time. Knowing her, she’ll say yes to the first lad who asks for her hand, so you better make sure you’re the one.”

Rumbi swallowed his bite of sausage, wiped his mouth and stood. “You don’t know her though, do you, Mother? Excuse me.” 

“Where are you going?” Lalia asked.

“To see a lass.” He ducked out of the tent, letting the flap drop behind him.

“What is that about?”

Fortinbras patted her shoulder. “He’s just nervous, love. Be patient with him. I’m sure by tonight he’ll have more than news for us.”

“He had better, for all the grief he’s been giving me on her account. I can’t imagine what made him stall the last time,” Lalia said, “unless his better sense is taking hold.”

“Darling is a fine young lass,” Fortinbras said. “Our son would be hard pressed to find better. You’ve always been fond of her.”

“I’ve tolerated her for our son’s sake,” Lalia said. “I will continue to do so, but I have my doubts that she’s the best he can do.”




Ami woke to the soft whisperings of her sister and cousins as they quietly scrambled to get dressed and ready for the day. Rosamunda and Dicentra were sharing the vanity and washstand while Esme brushed and ribboned Verbena’s hair. Verbena, who was facing the floor where they had all fallen asleep last night, was the first to notice that Ami was awake.

“Hurry, Darling!” she said. “We’re going to miss signing up for the cooking contests! Esme and I are going to enter in the desserts. We’re making apple crumble. You’re joining us, aren’t you?”

“Posh! We’re going to be making mixed-berry bread,” Rosamunda said. 

Ami reached for the nearest comb and started to work out the knots from her foot hair. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to join either of you. I need to find Ferumbras.” She met Esme’s eyes, who smiled in understanding.

“You’re spending a lot of time with Rumbi this week,” Verbena said. “He’s a nice lad. Shame about his mother.”

“We’re friends,” Ami said, concentrating on her feet. She said no more and was glad when her friends started talking about their plans for the cooking contest again. 

When they were dressed and ready, they stopped in the common room to eat a quick first breakfast. Esme and Dicentra retrieved their cooking supplies from the kitchen where they had stored it before heading for the sign-in tables for the day’s competitions. They were all tired but happy, and the warm sun and bright skies cheered them more as they marched over the fields. The line was already long by the time they arrived, but they passed the wait by recounting everything that they had done at the fair so far. Ahead of them in the line were Paladin, Saradoc and Merimac. They speculated on what the lads might be cooking for the contest, but their supply wagon was covered from view, allowing them little in the way of clues. 

“Sara!” Esme called suddenly, getting his attention. He trotted over to them. “What are you planning to make?”

“Cherry-blueberry pie,” Saradoc said. “It’s an old family receipt, quite popular in the summer. What’s our competition?”

“My apple crumble, and they’re making mixed-berry bread,” Esme said.

“Your apple crumble?”

Esme nodded. “It’s my own receipt and always in high demand.”

“Is that so? I’ll be sure to try some then. You’ll have to try some of our pie.”

“We’ll do that.” 

“Sara!” Mac called and waved for his brother to come back. The line was moving.

Sara rolled his eyes. “There’s twenty groups still ahead of us at least. You’d think we were running a race. Speaking of races, the pony races are this afternoon, finally. Will you be attending? We’ve been watching the trainers as they walk their ponies and we’ve got our picks made already. I rarely lose that bet.”

“We were planning on resting this afternoon,” Verbena said. “A quiet afternoon in the tents.”

“We’ll have more than time enough to rest tomorrow on the ride home,” Dicentra said. “I wouldn’t mind watching a race or two.”

“It would be fun,” Esme agreed.

“SARA!”

“I best go,” Sara said. “We’ll try to save you tables near us, that way we’ll be sure to get a bite of each other’s receipts.” He trotted back to his brother and Pally. 

“Cherry-blueberry,” Esme said. “Interesting combination.”

“Sounds good though,” Ami said. She looked up at the sky. It was already mid-morning and second breakfast would be over soon. “I better look for Rumbi. I’ll see you at the pony races.”

She returned to the inn for the jewelry box and also the small package with the cowbells, figuring she could stop by the livestock pens on the way to the races later. She didn’t know how long it might take to track down Rumbi, much less explain her reasoning and ensure that he was all right with her decision. She placed both packages in a small covered basket and set out.

She went first to the tent circle and asked every Took and relation she could find where Rumbi might be. No one was certain, as it appeared no one had seen him. Stopping at the Thain’s tent did little to help as everyone was already gone for the day’s activities. With the mayoral vote finished, there would be no reason for Rumbi to go to the Town Hole again, though it was likely that Fortinbras might be there, making acquaintance with Mayor Goodbeck. Lalia most likely was at the sewing tents again. Rumbi, if they had been in Tookland, would be at the archery competitions today but they had no such contests at the Free Fair. He might choose to go to the pony races later, but Ami didn’t want to delay their talk for that long. She could either wander the grounds aimlessly until she stumbled upon him, or  someone who knew where he was, or she could check with his parents, who must surely know where he was.

She went to the Town Hole first and found Fortinbras almost at once. He was leaving the Mayor’s Hall with the Master and the new Mayor. As soon as he saw her, he excused himself and came to her. He didn’t know where Rumbi was however.

“Last time I saw him, he was going to look for you,” Fortinbras said.

“When was this?” Ami asked.

“Just after first breakfast, though it was closer to second breakfast.”

“Then he didn’t come to the inn,” Ami said, more to herself than him. “Did he mention anything else he was planning to do today?”

“I’m afraid he didn’t.”

“If you see him, tell him I’m looking for him,” Ami said. “I’ll be at the pony races this afternoon, if I don’t find him before then.”

“I’ll tell him, Darling.”

She strolled through the town and back through the grounds, looking for anyone who might have seen Rumbi. Unfortunately, half the Tooks seemed to be at the cooking contest and the other half couldn’t remember if they had seen him today or the day before. Finally, she found Gardenia browsing the pipeweed selections. So far, she was the only one who had seen him, but that was twenty minutes before.

“Where was he going?”

“Off towards the river,” Gardenia said. “Poor lad looked like he was tied in knots. Probably just needed some quiet.”

“Thank you!” Ami said and dashed off for the back of the grounds, the nearest access for the river from there.

A half-hour later, it was clear that if Rumbi had come this way, he hadn’t stayed here. Thinking he may have decided to take a bit of a walk, she crossed at the little bridge and wandered afield for a half-mile and looked around. Seeing movement to her left, she turned but it was soon apparent that she had not found Rumbi. A small herd stood around eating the fresh grass, and standing in the middle of them puffing on a pipe was Perry.

Ami smiled. “I do believe this is what they call irony,” she said once she was close enough to be seen. “I was going to look for you once I spoke to Rumbi, but I found you first while looking for him. Maybe if I had been looking for you, I’d have found him instead.”

“Rumbi?” Perry asked. 

“My cousin,” Ami said. “I need to tell him my decision.”

“The one he won’t like?”

“Yes, that one. Is this your new herd? You were quite a success!”

In exchange for his dozen ewes and two rams, he had acquired four cows, and a bull. There were also a handful of goats, three nannies and two billies. Perry scratched one of the cows on her head, receiving a happy moo in return. “I’ve some hides as well. Thank ‘ee for yer advice, and that of yer lad.”

“My lad?”

“Yer servant as came to see me the other day,” he said. He looked over his new herd with fondness and not a small amount of surprise.

“Were you not expecting favorable trades?” Ami guessed.

“Truth be told, I was expecting to be run off the moment I showed my face,” Perry said.

“Why would anyone do that?”

“I’m not knowing now. I’m starting to think as my grandfather weren’t quite honest with us, but then, he had reasons not to be,” Perry said, but whatever he meant by this, he didn’t elaborate. He shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if I disappointed ye last night. I was wanting to come to yer party, but my feet wouldn’t cooperate.”

“You were scared? Why?” Ami asked, surprised by this news. She stepped into the circle that the herd created around their new master, hoping to reassure him in some way.

Instead of reassuring him, this only seemed to worsen his discomfort. He took a step back - a small step. “I’m not a complete fool. I know of the Tooks and what yer kin are to the rest of the Shire. And I know well enough how they would see me.”

“I don’t understand.”

Perry shrugged and refused to meet her gaze. “It’s only that I care for ye, Ami. I thought if I went, they’d see it, and I didn’t want to get ye into trouble.”

“Oh.” It was the only response she could think of to this announcement. Her mind went numb, unable to process a coherent thought, while the rest of her tingled with anticipation. Her heart did a cartwheel in her chest. “I see,” she finally managed.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Ami said. His apology was just the start she needed. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Is there?”

“I broke my word to try to come,” Perry said. He gave another little shrug, as though this small gesture would explain every emotion and thought that was wrapped up inside him.

“Well, no matter,” Ami said. She hesitated and shrugged herself. The basket she carried bumped into her side, reminding her of its presence. Thankful for the distraction, she pulled her eyes away from Perry’s gaze and opened the basket’s lid. She pulled out his gift and handed it to him. He paused before taking it, his fingertips whispering against her palm, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Are ye cold?” he asked, noticing.

“No. Open it. I was going to give it to you last night, for my birthday. Sorry it’s late.”

“It’s not yer fault,” he said and opened it. Ami almost laughed at the confusion that flitted over his face as he first looked at then fingered one of the bells. He cleared his expression with some effort and smiled. “Thank ye.”

“They’re for your cows,” Ami explained. She picked up another bell. “They like to wander off, see. So you put some rope through here, something thick enough it won’t dig into their skin, and tie it loose around their neck. That way, no matter where they are, you’ll be able to hear them when they move about. And see? I had them branded for you with your initials, P. N., and a flat line, since you’re from Nohill. I couldn’t really think of anything else to designate Nohill than a line.” She put the bell back. “You can use them for the goats too if you like, but I don’t have enough for that. I regret to say that I underestimated your trading abilities. You’re certain you’ve never done this before?”

Perry still looked confused but he smiled again. “Aye. And thank ye. I’ll see about getting some rope afore I go then.” He fingered the chiseled initials on one of the bells. “That was kind of ye.”

“I hate it when they brand their poor little ears,” Ami said, patting the nearest cow on her head. “My da and others use the bells for that, but of course you can’t put bells on sheep. They have little tags to put through the ear instead, and that only seems to smart them for a minute or two. There are still some that use the branding irons though. They use numbing balm for the pain, but how can they be sure when it stops working or when they really no longer need it?”

“I suppose ye could press on the wound, lightly of course,” he suggested. “We don’t use brands ourselves.”

“I noticed. I like that.” 

A comfortable silence fell between them. Perry tucked his gift into his pocket and they stood for a time watching the beasts graze. The morning was cooler than in previous days and here and there small clouds dotted the sky. A warm gust blew over the hills, bringing with it the scents of food cooking on the fairgrounds and the subtle aroma of the wildflowers that grew thick around them. 

“How’s yer nephew?” Perry asked after a time.

“He’s well, thank you. Rather sunburnt, but he’s on the mend. I don’t know why I was worried before. I feel rather silly now.” 

“There’s no shame in caring.”

“No, I suppose there’s not.” Ami looked back to the fairgrounds in the distance. “I guess I should be going. I still need to find Rumbi, and I should check on Arlo. Are you leaving tomorrow then?”

“Day after. Figure I should use tomorrow to get to know my new herd. It’s a long walk home, especially if they like wandering off.”

“They seem very well behaved so far. You have that effect on beasts.” She hesitated. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning after first breakfast. I’ll try to come and see you before I leave.”

“Ye don’t need to be doing that, lass.”

“No, but I want to. I’d like to see you, one more time.” She hesitated again, then, drawing a deep breath, made a decision. She reached for his hand and pressed it between her own. “You are a dear friend to me, Perry, for all that I’ve known you so briefly. I’ll be there before dawn. I want to see the sunrise with you.”

Perry stood frozen, his gaze fixed on her hands enveloping his. She thought at first he had not heard her, but slowly he nodded and looked up. His hand clutched as if in reflex as he met her gaze and saw there the same terrified hope he felt within himself. His sun-star, whom he feared was never to be caught by a seeker such as himself, now stood before him promising... what? The question broke the spell that had fallen over him at her touch and he regrettably slipped his hand away from her touch. It felt cold at once.

“I’d like that, I truly would, but as I said, I don’t want to get ye into trouble.”

“No harm in watching a sunrise with a friend,” she said, smiling winningly. “I do have to go now, but I’ll be there by the river, before first light. Until then.”

“I’ll look for ye.”

She went off then, looking back every few hundred feet to find him still watching her. When she reached the other side of the river, and Perry was little more than a dot on the horizon, she waved then trotted back to the fairgrounds in search of Rumbi once more.



To be continued...



GF 8/14/11





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