The morning sun for the first time shined fully upon the carriage and Twitch was soon obliged to remove his overcoat and roll up his sleeves. A market spread out at the feet of the hills, bordered by a handful of farms and ranches that ran along the roads leading out of town, one towards Whitfurrows, the other towards Southfarthing. 

Twitch had been here a few times before, visiting his grandparents and later his parents after they retired from a lifetime serving the Tooks. He knew the market well and recognized many of the proprietors and workers. They recognized him as well and waved in confusion, some calling his name, trying to get him to stop for a brief word. Twitch would have liked nothing more than to stop, but he was mindful of his instructions.

He nodded at the hobbits he recognized, tipping his hat but not slowing, and pondered over the Thain. Growing up, he had always been told how kind the Thain was, how fair and considerate he was, so much like his father Fortinbras, who died the year after Twitch was born. Twitch had only known the Great Smials under the rule of Lalia the Great, a misfortune that had nearly caused his parents to send him to Pincup for his apprenticeship. 

He’d had few encounters with the Mistress over the years and she never remembered him, which he took as a good sign. He’d had more encounters with the Thain, who always had a treat in his pockets for the younger children. Twitch supposed the Thain was kindly, but he had still been afraid of him as a wee lad. How kindly could the Thain really be, given the Lady was his mother?   

He reached the middle of the market and looked down the two branches of the road. He was not even certain if he should have come this far, much less which way he was to take. He wondered why the Thain hadn’t spoken with more directions yet and began to worry that perhaps the Thain had fallen asleep, despite the swaying of the carriage. Was it proper to wake the Thain? And yet he couldn’t park here in the middle of the market square indefinitely. 

Slowly, Twitch pulled the ponies to a stop, uncertain of what to do. He was still intimidated by the Thain.

~*~

Chapter 12 - Fair’s End

“What are they supposed to be doing?” Verbena said. Her hands were wrist deep in batter and unavailable for pointing, so she lifted her chin in the direction of Pally, Sara and Mac’s table. 

They had managed to get tables close together and near the communal ovens. From her table, Esme looked two tables down to see her brother and his friends in the middle of what appeared to be a food fight. At any rate, they were getting more food on themselves than in the awaiting pie crust they had managed to make. Her hands too were covered in flour, so she wiped them quickly and put two fingers in her mouth. She whistled shrilly, gaining the attention of everyone within hearing distance.

“What are you doing?” she asked Pally, ignoring everyone else.

“We’re crushing the cherries and blueberries,” Sara answered instead.

“By beating them on each other?” Rosamunda asked. Dicentra laughed, as did the lads.

“No, we’re having a contest to see who can crush the most the fastest,” Mac said.

“More like, who can splatter the most,” Esme observed. “Why don’t you just ground them in a bowl like sensible folk?”

“That’s boring,” the lads said in unison, then proceeded with their game, taking turns with a mallet to pound the fruit to mush. 

“Mum’s not going to like you getting stains all over your clothes,” Esme tried next.

“They’re old clothes,” Pally said. “They won’t even fit in a couple more months.”

“These are our cooking clothes,” Sara said. “Mother won’t notice a few extra stains.”

“You have clothes just for cooking?” Esme asked.

“It’s a messy affair.”

“The way you do it, it is.”

“Precisely my point.”

“Quite.”

“I thought roasted goose* was your area of expertise,” Dicentra said. Sara and Mac froze instantly, their faces flushing.

Pally scowled. “That wasn’t kind.” But the corners of his mouth went up despite that.

“We no longer work with poultry,” Mac said with what dignity he could muster, given his current appearance.

“All right, all right,” Rosamunda scolded. “We can chat once everything’s in the ovens.”

An hour later, they were sitting on the grass, their creations baking in the oven. They munched on the scones and fruit they had brought with them for their second breakfast and watched the other competitors. When their stomachs were satisfied, the lads brought out some pennies and started to play a coin toss game, the rules of which they appeared to be making up as they went along. Dicentra and Verbena had brought books to read and Rosamunda and Esme some needlepoint. Slowly, the flurry of activity around them calmed as more competitors finished their preparations. Every now and then, one of them would look up to check the sun’s position. They checked the ovens whenever another team opened it to insert their own creations. Finally, their items were done and they pulled them out to cool. 

The eleventh hour arrived and the competition was brought to its end. The judges came around and tasted samples of all the fare. Once the judges had come and gone, Sara snuck them over a small bite of the cherry-blueberry bread, so Esme gave them a small slice of the apple crumble, and Rosamunda cut them a bite of the mixed-berry bread. If they didn’t get to sample any of the other fare, they at least got to enjoy their own. Whatever concerns the lasses might have had about the lads’ bread, they were immediately forgotten upon tasting.

“It’s delightful!” Esme said.

Sara beamed. “I should hope so. Our grandmother taught us to make that herself.” His eyes widened as he nibbled the apple crumble. “This is the best I’ve ever had!”

“It took me most of a summer to get the receipt right,” Esme said proudly. 

“The mixed-berry bread is delicious,” Pally said.

“Is it?” Dicentra asked, relieved. “It’s only our second time making it.”

“You could have fooled me,” Mac said. “Can we have the receipt?”

The judging wouldn’t end for another half-hour at least. They spent that time writing copies of their receipts for each other, as well as any other receipts they thought the others might enjoy. When at last the judges had made their decisions, they scrambled to their feet and stood at their tables, waiting impatiently for their categories to be announced. The baked goods were the last categories, and they held their breaths as the winners for Best Bread were called to the stage. Dicentra and Rosamunda did not place, nor had they expected to, considering they were still learning the receipt, but Pally and his friends were awarded third. Esme and Verbena placed second in the desserts category and ran up to receive their ribbons.

Afterwards, they made a quick round of the other tables to sample what they could before taking the remainder of their ingredients back to their respective rooms or tents.  

As Esme and Verbena neared the Pheasant, Esme muttered, “I wonder if Ami found Rumbi. Perhaps we should look for them.”

“Oh, let them have their fun. I’m sure they’re not doing anything scandalous,” Verbena said with a knowing smirk.

Esme’s heart jumped a little at that expression. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he proposed, didn’t he? We’ve all been waiting for the announcement. Frankly, I thought they’d announce it last night at her party,” Verbena said.

“What makes you think he proposed?”

“She had Great-Grandmum’s necklace and bracelet. Di found them by accident while we were getting Millie ready for her wedding,” Verbena said. “So is it true? Did he propose?”

“I suppose all the Tooks know about this by now,” Esme said, more worried than before. Why had Ami left the proposal gifts in Sigismond’s tent, of all places! “I’m sure there will be an announcement soon enough.”

“Oh, how wondrous! They can marry on her birthday, though it wouldn’t really be her birthday since there’s no leap year next year but on Mid-year’s Day, which is when we always celebrate it. Every Took in the Tooklands would show up for such a party. It’s up to them of course, though. Do you think she will require a new dress to be made?”

“I think we should wait until there’s something to celebrate,” Esme said with veiled dread. If Ami had hoped to keep the proposal a secret to spare Rumbi any embarrassment, that hope was now dashed. It didn’t take much imagination to envision the uproar it would cause when it was discovered that Ami turned down Ferumbras, Thain’s son, on what many would consider nothing more than a whim. Oh, the noise Lalia would make! The Fair’s End Feast suddenly couldn’t come soon enough.

~*~

Ami found the nearest break in the trees and reentered the fairgrounds. It was like stepping into another world, noisy and busy, with hobbits bustling about in every direction. After the peaceful silence of the hills and lazy lolling of the cows and goats, it was an unsettling experience. Ami had to stop for several moments to gather her wits before continuing. She was no closer to finding Rumbi than she had been when she chanced upon Perry, but she thought she might know where to look for him. On a hunch, she made her way along the edge of the fairgrounds to the livestock pens. She didn’t find Rumbi but she did find Fortinbras and Bilbo, who informed her that Rumbi had just left and was going back to the Took circle to return his father’s purse.

She thanked them and dashed off. If she could find him inside his tent, she just might be able to speak with him in private, rather than find him in a crowd and having to ask him for privacy, which would only arouse curiosity. Hopefully, his mother wouldn’t be there. 

She was quick enough to catch him as he was exiting the tent.

“Rumbi!” she said, somewhat out of breath.

“Ami!” he greeted. He put a hand to her elbow to steady her as she bent over to allow more air into her lungs. “I was wondering if I would see you today.”

“Oh?” Ami asked. She straightened and fiddled with the folds of her dress. “Well, here I am. Do you think we could go inside the tent and speak in private?”

“Of course,” Rumbi said. He stepped aside and held up the tent flap for her. Once inside, they moved to the center of the tent where they could stand properly. Rumbi looked at her intently and raised an eyebrow. He had promised not to pressure her, so this was the closest he could come to the question.

Ami took a final deep breath, more to get her bearings and gather her nerves than for need of air. She took Rumbi’s hand. “You know you are dear to me, and I’m quite fond of you... as a brother.”

Rumbi’s shoulders slumped at the word ‘brother’ but he merely pressed her hand in return and nodded. “A brother? I suppose that’s better than nothing.” He smiled bravely.

“I’m so sorry, Rumbi,” Ami said. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes. She had hoped to hold them back until she at least reached the privacy of the inn. “I wanted so much for my answer to be ‘yes’, I truly did, but I don’t love you in that way, and I feel it would be dishonest to pretend that I might some day. I thought that would only hurt you more in the end. Can you forgive me?”

“Forgive you?” Rumbi said. He looked up into her eyes, now flowing over with tears. He reached up a thumb and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. “My dearest Darling, there is nothing to forgive. I wouldn’t want you to be my wife out of some sense of obligation.”

Ami reached into her pocket and pulled out the box containing his proposal gifts. She handed it to him and he took it without noticing. “I do not wish for things to be awkward between us.”

“Never,” Rumbi said. “I would rather know you as a friend and a sister than not at all. I always knew this was a possibility. I accepted that when I asked you. Forgive me for waiting for such an inopportune time to ask.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Ami said. 

They hugged for a time and when Ami’s tears stopped, Rumbi kissed her once and requested to be left alone. Ami left and managed to cross the fairgrounds without being stopped. She found their room at the inn empty and curled up in the middle of the large bed to cry some more. Once her tears were spent, she washed her face at the washstand and looked at herself in the mirror. She took a deep breath, let it out and felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She had done the right thing.

She bumped into Esme and Verbena on her way out the door. “Did you place?” she asked at the same time Esme said, “Did you find him?”

“I did,” they both said. 

“And?” they both asked, and laughed.

“Second place!” Esme said. “How is Rumbi?”

“He’s fine,” Ami said.

“Only fine?” Verbena asked. 

“Yes,” Ami said and looked at Esme, who very slightly shook her head. She hadn’t said anything but the warning in her eyes told Ami to be cautious. “I’m sure he’s quite well.”

“Quite.”

“Are you staying here long?” Ami said as Esme and Verbena went to the washstand. 

“We gave our remaining supplies to the kitchen,” Esme said. “We’re going to wash up then see if there are any final purchases we can make before meeting the lads for the pony races.”

Ami waited for them and they went to the grounds together. Several of the vendors who had been most successful no longer had products available but there still remained many wonderful items left to haggle over and buy. Esme came away with many bolts of thread for needlework and sewing, Verbena found many little trinkets that her younger cousins would enjoy when her birthday came next month, and Ami bought a few more bells and a couple of curry combs for Perry then treated her companions to cream puffs and taffy. They had to return to the inn again to drop off their purchases, then went with Verbena to the camping circle so she could store away her things, before going to the racing tracks where the lads were already saving them a spot. 

“Who are we betting on?” Verbena asked. 

“We’ll let you know,” Mac said, with a suspicious glance at the other hobbits nearby.

“It was hard to decide,” Saradoc said. “Several of the top ponies are racing in the same rounds, and of course, they’re all in the last few races. I think if we want any hope of winning something, we should stick to the rounds we can be certain to pick a winner.”

“That’s sensible,” Esme said, sounding surprised. 

“I do have my moments,” Sara said with a wink. 

“Very few of them,” Mac agreed. 

In the center of the race track, Mayors Lightfoot and Goodbeck stood to begin the races. The ponies for the first race were led to the track by their riders. They lined up at the start, mounted their steeds and settled into their saddles. In the audience, the bets were being placed in a quiet frenzy so as not to disturb the ponies. After several minutes that seemed more like seconds, Mayor Goodbeck lifted his hand, a silver bell with a silver ribbon wrapped around the handle in his grip. He shook the bell and the race began.

~*~

Ferumbras couldn’t be sure how long he sat alone in the tent after Ami left. It felt like years but he knew that impractical and possibly more like hours, or maybe just minutes. However long it was, when he eventually emerged, his stomach was growling and his feet led him to the cooking circle. Only a few Tooks were present. Heather and Calluna were enjoying the relative peace and quiet. Heather was working on some quilting blocks while Calluna was taking advantage of her mother’s absence to puff on a pipe she likely ‘borrowed’ from a younger cousin or nephew. There did not appear to be anything cooking.

Frowning at the unimaginable sight, Rumbi stretched and looked up at the sun. From its position, the hour was past luncheon and not yet close enough to tea for anyone to be preparing anything. “No food?” he asked.

Calluna narrowed her eyes at him. “Not when you wait until even the scraps have been licked off the plates. You looked distressed, but not about food.”

“Is there food anywhere?” Rumbi asked, ignoring the comment. 

“The vendors have some nice selections,” Calluna said. “That’s your best bet.”

Rumbi knew she was right. With the Fair’s End Feast coming up in a few short hours, he knew no one would be coming back to the circle to prepare anything. They would all take their tea and meal at the feast and wouldn’t come back to the tents until it was time for bed. He checked his pockets for coin and went in search of something to eat. The cooking contests were taking place of course, but as that would make up part of the feast, there was no point in going there. He found a vendor selling salted pork with apple sauce and bought a plate to eat back in the tent. He was surprised to find Heather standing outside it, waiting for him.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t take long. What’s the matter, Fer?” she asked. “You look forlorn.”

“Come inside.”

Once they were in the tent, they sat in the center and Rumbi offered Heather some food. She shook her head and watched as Rumbi proceeded to eat with considerably less enthusiasm than normal.

“Is it my sister?” she guessed. “Darling, I mean.”

“I know who you meant,” Rumbi said. He finished his food and wiped his hands with a kerchief. “I suppose you know that I proposed to her. She declined my offer.”

“I am sorry to hear that. Did she say why?”

“She considers me a brother. I don’t know how I’m going to tell my parents, especially my mother. I’m hoping to keep it out of her ears until we are home, but I don’t see how that will be possible.”

“You don’t think she’d scold Darling again, do you?”

“On the contrary, I’m sure she’ll be quite pleased and more than eager to point out that she was right about Ami not being a good fit for me,” Rumbi said and sighed. “I was never sure that she would say yes. Oh, but I had hoped it for so long. I don’t know if I will ever find another lass I care for as much.”

Heather moved to sit beside him and put her arm around his shoulders. She hugged him gently and rested her head on his shoulder. “Perhaps you won’t,” she said. “Everyone keeps telling me I can always find another lad, that I have the chance for love and a family of my own still. Perhaps they are right and it may happen one day, but I just don’t see it now. Folk will tell you that all the time as well. Just nod and say ‘perhaps you’re right’ and then quickly change the subject. I found that works well for me.”

Rumbi smiled sadly. “I’ll do that.”

Heather squeezed his shoulders, pecked his cheek then bounded to her feet. “Come! It’s the last day of the fair and too fine a day to be sitting in a tent moping over sorrows. I’m sure if we try hard enough, we’ll find something to entertain us. Oh! Let’s go to the Museum! I do love that shiny shirt Bilbo brought back from his adventures.”

“The museum it is then,” Rumbi said and stood. He offered Heather his arm and they stepped out into the sun. He smiled genuinely, for it was a fine day on which to be merry. 

They went to the museum then browsed through the many shops in town before settling at the bakery with a loaf of bread and a pitcher of tea. They stayed there and talked about whatever entered their heads until the time for the feast came. They strolled out of town and separated at the fairground’s edge. Rumbi sought out his parents and as he expected, his mother instantly leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“Did you ask her finally?”

“I did,” Rumbi whispered back.

“And?” Fortinbras asked.

“She declined.”

“I am sorry, son,” Fortinbras said and offered a consolatory pat on the shoulder. They would speak more, when they were alone.

Lalia embraced him. “As am I, for I can see you’re troubled. You’ll find someone else.”

Rumbi nodded, remembering Heather’s advice. “I’m sure I will. Have you managed a peek at the fare available?”

Fortinbras was about to run through a list of the dishes to be served when Mayor Lightfoot stood up on the stage and clinked his glass with a spoon. When those assembled quieted, he smiled and put his hands behind his back. “It has been another marvelous fair all around, has it not?” The Hobbits cheered. “Many congratulations to all those who won prizes and competed this year, and many cheers to our organizers who helped things to run smoothly.” More cheering, as well as whistling and whooping, followed. “As my last official duty as your mayor, I will announce today’s winners. Those who won prizes please step towards the stage at this time.”

After the winners were announced and had returned to their seats, Mayor Goodbeck stepped forward to much applause. “Thank you, and congratulations once more to our fine chefs and bakers! I had the pleasure of judging the cooking contests in years past, so I say with full confidence that we will soon be eating the finest fare the Shire has to offer! So without further ado, let the feast begin!”

If Rumbi had doubted his ability to get through the feast, he soon found his concerns were for naught. He caught sight of Ami from time to time, and while he felt the expected jab of disappointment each time, he was able to put it aside. He imagined that she couldn’t be feeling much better and by silent agreement they kept their distance. Only as midnight approached did they finally meet in the dance area for a round of the Springle Ring, which they always enjoyed dancing with each other. They did not speak, but the joy was still there and Rumbi began to hope that they could remain friends after all. After the dance, he kissed her hand and was rewarded with a dimpled smile.

He left the feast soon after and sought out his tent. As with many others, he planned to leave in the morning and wanted to be as well-rested as he could manage. He changed into his nightgown and snuggled into his sleeping roll. He was fast asleep mere seconds later.

~*~

The chambermaid tiptoed into the Pheasant’s Number Two guest quarters and over to the settee where Ami had told her she would be sleeping. The chambermaid checked that she had the right hobbitess before gently prodding her in the shoulder until she woke, as instructed. 

Ami woke reluctantly. Three late nights in a row were beginning to take their toll, but she forgot her weariness instantly as she pried open her eyes and saw the chambermaid there, a finger to her lips. The maid pointed towards the shuttered window and Ami was sitting up, yawning and rubbing her eyes. The maid left then and Ami silently dressed before following her. Once in the hall, she hurried to the maid’s quarters so she could wash up and fix her hair without fear of waking anyone and having to explain what she was doing. Thanking the maid profusely, she slipped out of the inn through the servant’s door and around the back into the predawn night. She ran along the river to the back of the fairgrounds and the livestock pens, but Perry was already waiting for her in the small clearing behind the grounds. 

Her heart leapt up into her throat upon seeing him. She slowed to a walk and by the time she approached him, she was breathing normally again. “I made it,” she said, unnecessarily. She fingered her hair and thought belatedly what all that running must have done to it. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Not but a few minutes,” Perry said. He had his small herd with him and she watched in amazement as he softly clucked his tongue and his herd followed. They walked up to the ford and Perry took her hand to cross the river. “Sorry, but the rocks can be slippery.”

“That’s all right,” Ami said and entwined her fingers with his. 

Their eyes met briefly, then Perry was leading them all across the ford and over the hills, farther away from the grounds than where she had found him the previous day. The world was silent before them, dim grey with the soft twinkling of stars before dawn. The grass was cool beneath their feet, while the predawn air whispered softly against their arms and faces, already promising the heat of the day to come. They walked until the fair and town were far behind and in the distance were the silhouettes of the White Downs. Finally, Perry stopped and they sat down as the cows and goats spread out to find grass to eat. He let go her hand but didn’t inch away as she had thought he might.

Encouraged, she looked up at the stars, which lingered still despite the approach of day, and pointed to the brightest. “They say that’s a ship that sails the night sky,” she said. 

“Who are they?” Perry asked, trying to see the one at which she was pointing.

“Oh, I don’t know. The Elves I suppose,” she said. “At least, that’s what my cousin Bilbo says. He should know. He’s been Outside and seen Elves.”

“I feel like I’ve been Outside,” he said. “Elves though...” He looked sideways at her, wondering if he should mention it. If he didn’t now, he may never have the chance to again. “I’d heard the Tooks had Faery blood in them. Is that true?”

“Not so far as I know,” Ami said, “though I have heard it said that we’re luckier than most.”

“What else do they say about the stars?”

“I only know about the others from what my da told me. There’s the bowman.”

“Where?”

Ami moved closer and leaned so he could better follow where she was pointing. “Those five stars there are the bow, and that’s his head, and his body. He’s standing with his feet apart, like he’s getting ready to shoot. See?”

Perry nodded. “I see the bow. The rest takes more of an imagination that what I’ve got though. What else is up there?”

“There’s the dipper. That one over there my brother says looks like a stack of hotcakes.”

He laughed. “Now that one I see!”

“I’ve always thought that one was a dragon. See, there’s the wings and the tail. She’s flying.”

“The dragon’s a she?”

“Well, some of them must be. What else? Oh, look! You can just see it, there, low on the horizon. It’s my favorite one. See how it looks like a lass dancing? There’s her arm up over her head, and her legs there, one is sort of up, at an angle to the other. I haven’t found her lad yet though. I’m sure he must be up there somewhere.”

“Maybe he’s the bowman. Maybe that’s not a bow, but a rose.”

“Maybe he is. He was there the whole time.” 

“The sun is coming. Here, lie down.”

“What?”

“For the full effect. It’s the only proper way to see a sunrise.”

They lay down on the grass and looked up at the sky all around them. The dark velvet of night was giving way to pale grey. The dancing lass faded and was soon lost to the coming light. Slowly the grey spread out, chasing away the stars. Following quickly came the golden red of the waking sun, who soon peeked her face over the earth. The sky changed again to crimson, then pink, and finally blue as the sun rose full above, its surface now soft yellow.

Ami sighed and shivered. “That’s beautiful,” she whispered. 

“Not as beautiful as you.”

Perry took her hand, and she squeezed it in response. They turned their heads and their eyes met. They could see the same thought pass through the other’s mind. If this was to be their last time to see each other...

Their first kiss was brief, simple, questioning. Their second kiss was only slightly longer, their answer to each other. They lost track of time and everything but each other on their third kiss, and lost count of their kisses soon after that. When at length they pulled away, they were panting and flushed. Ami’s free hand was resting on his chest, a solid and reassuring mass. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her hand, dancing a jig. Perry’s other hand cupped her face, gentle and caressing, and he could feel the pulse in her neck hammering away. Their eyes met again, and his smile was apologetic. 

“I was hoping to make this easier,” he said.

“I know,” Ami said. “But I don’t regret it.”

He helped her to sit up and they sat for a time a hand’s width away from each other. When finally they were composed again, Perry stood and helped her to her feet. He dropped her hands reluctantly and stepped away with effort.

“I brought ye something. It’s to thank ye, for yer help.” 

He went to one of his billies, who had a small satchel hanging from the bell around its neck. He opened the satchel and brought out a folded bundle. He hesitated, suddenly shy. “I didn’t have time to fashion them into aught.”

“What is it?” 

He handed her the bundle, which she unfolded to reveal two rabbit pelts, once snowy white, now dyed the colors of the sunrise they had just witnessed. She ran her hands over the soft fur in awe. 

“Oh, Perry.”

“So ye’ll have the sunrise with ye at all times, aye?” He looked towards the sun, which had inched higher while they had been preoccupied. “Ye best be going. Yer family will be up by now and looking for ye.”

Ami knew he was right, and if the sun didn’t tell her, the grumbling in her stomach did. First breakfast was approaching and she would need to hurry to return to the inn and prepare for leaving. A coldness spread in her stomach at the thought of leaving. She wanted this moment to last, this peaceful, serene moment where the two of them could be together and alone. She brushed her hand over the pelts again.

“I’ll make them into mittens,” she decided, “so I’ll have sunrise even in dreary weather. Thank you.” She took his hand again and only then noticed that his fingertips were stained the same color as the pelts. “You dyed them yourself? You’re lovely.”

“Ye mean they are.”

Ami shook her head. “I mean you are.” She folded the pelts and tucked them into her left dress pocket. From the other she pulled out the bells she had bought yesterday. “Here, so they’ll all have one.”

He took them and put them in the satchel. 

“Maybe I can come visit you,” she said. “Next summer, when we’re visiting Tuckborough. It’s close to Pincup, not even a day’s ride away.”

“I don’t live in Pincup, Ami.”

“Outside it then. I’d love to see your home.”

“No, ye wouldn’t,” Perry said. “I’ve no home.”

“But you... You do. You have to,” Ami said, confused. “How can you not have a home?”

“We tried making some, like they have here and in Pincup, but none of us were knowing how. We don’t have aught to trade to ask the carpenters in town to come, so we just squat in tunnels we’ve dug under the ground. I should of told ye sooner, but I didn’t want ye thinking less of me, or pitying me, like those in town do.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet. He peeked up at Ami, only to find her looking back at him, stunned and confused.

“Why would that make me think less of you?” she asked. “Why don’t you move into town? Why do you live there at all?”

“I suppose we could now but they don’t want to move, and why should we? It’s our home, same as yers, just without the buildings and whatnot. As for why we’re there, my grandfather settled there after the Fell Winter and a few of friends followed him. Crops were scarce then. Lots of folks left the towns to seek food elsewhere. They just stayed.”

“I can still come to visit,” Ami said. “Or you could come to Whitwell.”

“Aye? And what would I do there?” He ran his hand over her hair and drew her close. “Just promise me ye’ll think of me from time to time.”

“Every day. And you won’t forget about me?”

“Never.” He kissed her gently, then kissed her brow. He let her go and turned away, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ye should go now. Take care of ye.”

“Farewell, Perry,” Ami said. 

With reluctance, she turned and left. Each step felt heavy and resistant, and the further away she walked the more she wanted to turn back around and return to his side. But he was right. First breakfast was quickly approaching and her family would be looking for her before too much longer. And after they ate, they would be leaving and she would never see Perry again. 

She held back her tears until she reached the inn. By the time she entered through the servants’ door and made it to their rooms, the tears were streaming heedlessly down her face. There was no hope of composing herself, for she had never felt so dreadful before. She entered the room and an instant later, her mother was at her side.

“Darling? What is the matter? What happened?” Clematis asked.

“I lost him, Mama.”

“Who, dear?”

The rest of her family was there now, watching with alarm, waiting for an answer. What could she say? How could she possibly explain? Would they even understand?

“Darling?” Adalgrim said. “Who did you lose?”

“Rumbi,” she said. The thought had popped into her head and she spoke before she could even think. It was the simpler explanation and an answer they had all been waiting for. “I told him no. I turned him down.”

To be continued...

GF 8/22/11

* - Reference to my story "How to Cook a Goose".