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Runaway  by Lindelea

7. Just an Ordinary Morn

Faramir awakened slowly, not knowing where he was for a moment. There was a hard surface beneath him – he was sleeping on the floor! Though he’d expect to be cold in such a circumstance, he was toasty in his blankets. Indeed someone had added another blanket as he slept. He heard the stir of others rising, and then a hand touched his shoulder.

‘I’m sure Farry will be happy to fetch wood for the fire, Rose,’ came Ferdi’s voice behind him, and Faramir remembered where he was, in the home of the Bolgers, Ferdi’s sister’s family, in Woody End. Farry remembered, too, the bargain and held his tongue, though he shot a glare at Ferdibrand. Ferdi only chuckled and patted him on the shoulder, saying, ‘Robin will show you the woodpile, just bring in armfuls until he tells you it’s enough.’

‘Let me check the leg, first,’ Rosemary said firmly, turning up the watch lamp, taking it from the window and bringing it close. She was pleased at its progress, and said that Farry could walk about a bit today to keep it strong.

‘He can put it to good use, then, helping with chores,’ Ferdi said, getting up from the floor. He swayed and put a hand to his head.

‘What is it, Ferdi?’ Rosemary asked, fastening the bandage on Farry’s leg.

‘It’s nothing,’ Ferdi said, straightening, but Rosemary fixed him with a stern glance. She knew the truth when she heard it, and her brother was lying to her. He was having one of his spells of head pain again, she realised, but as she opened her mouth to speak, he shook his head slightly. Let it go.

Reluctantly, she desisted, turning instead back to Farry. ‘Off you go with Robin, he’ll show you what to do,’ she said lightly.

And so it was that once again, Faramir found himself doing a servant’s work, though it was not half so onerous as he’d feared; all the Bolgers had chores to do and bustled about cheerfully, jesting and laughing in the lamplit room as the wind howled about in the darkness outside. Faramir was relieved to come in out of the wind and deposit his last armful of wood, and then Robin showed him how to lay a fire and spark it to life with flint and steel.

Soon the fire burned merrily. Farry was sent to the well with Buckthorn to haul buckets of water, and before long, Rosemary was stirring handfuls of meal into a pot of water for porridge, while her oldest daughter uncovered the bread that had risen through the night, and began to shape it into loaves. Things looked promising indeed for early breakfast, but just as the aroma of the baking bread began to tickle his nose, Farry was sent out again with Robin to milk the cows.

‘You’ve never milked a cow?’ the tween said in astonishment, watching Farry’s fumbling attempts. Farry had managed to get milk out of a cow once before, but it had been feel-and-fumble at best. He shook his head, colour rising in his cheeks. He felt right useless... he’d done more work in the past hour than he did in a whole day back at the Smials.

Robin did not taunt him for his ignorance, as any Took might’ve, but simply showed him the trick and got him started sending streams of milk into a bucket. ‘Watch this!’ the Bolger lad called, gesturing to an expectant cat. When he saw Farry looking, he tilted the teat he held and sent a stream of milk through the air. The tween and the son of the Thain laughed to see the cat sit up on its haunches to catch the treat. Another cat was watching Farry, and he found with a little practice he could direct the stream right to the open mouth.

Somehow they managed to finish the milking with a fair amount in the buckets, though the cats went away full and satisfied. They’d catch no mice that day, choosing instead to snooze in the hay in the loft.

Bringing the buckets in to Rosemary, they found the table set and smelled bacon frying, but then it was out to the byre again to finish cleaning stalls and caring for the animals. Farry nearly forgot himself a few times and talked back in response to Robin’s jests, but he remembered just in time and held his tongue.

Finally the work was done and Took and Bolger raced each other from the byre to the house, where they jostled with the other Bolger lads to wash up and take their seats around the long table. Rosemary and the girls were placing platters of food along the table’s length, and soon all was ready. Hally took his place at the head of the table, and Farry rose to make his bow.

‘That’s all right, lad,’ Hally said easily. ‘As long as you work with the family, you can be a part of the family and don’t need to bow and scrape as if you were a mere guest.’ He glared at his brother-in-love. ‘Now Ferdi, on the other hand...’

‘He’s family!’ Robin shouted, and the rest laughed.

‘Ah,’ Hally said, mollified. ‘I have it on good authority that you are family, Ferdi, so you needn’t bow and thank me for the meal you are about to partake.’

‘My thanks for that,’ Ferdi said dryly, and all laughed again as Hally pretended to glower at him under his eyebrows.

‘I said, no thanks necessary,’ he said sternly, and Ferdi threw up his hands in surrender. Niceties attended to, the hobbits fell to the serious business of eating, filling their plates with crispy bacon and eggs fried to a turn, fresh-baked bread and butter churned from their own cream, preserves from the harvest of berries growing in the woods, and bowls of porridge laced with cream and honey.

Farry ate and listened and smiled, and Ferdi watched him with secret satisfaction. No need for Diamond to nag the lad to eat at this meal; he ate enough for any two Bolgers, appetite stirred by his early labours, relaxed and happy in the warm, loving company around the table. No one was preoccupied with matters of business, no one answered a child’s query with an absent look, and any correction to errant table manners was offered with warmth, not sharpness, for no one was concerned with keeping up appearances, or annoyed by childish interruptions.

After breakfast, all hands were set to clearing the table, washing up, drying and putting away, scrubbing the tabletop and laying the cloth, sweeping the floor. When the room had been set to rights, Rosemary beckoned to Faramir.

‘Sit down at table, lad, rest your leg,’ she said. ‘You may watch our studies; perhaps you’ll learn something as well.’

Faramir was surprised to see chalk and slates brought out, as well as a few precious books. Many hobbits didn’t know their letters, including Hally as it turned out, but Rosemary, while living in the Great Smials, had been taught and now sought to pass on her knowledge to her children. Under her direction, the children worked sums, spelled words and wrote sentences from dictation. Then they took turns reading from a book of stories, passing it from hand to hand. The littlest read only a sentence or two, the middle ones made their way through a paragraph each, while the older ones each read an entire page until all had read. Rosemary took the book then and read to the end of the chapter while her older daughters served elevenses to all.

‘Very nice,’ Hally said, putting his mug down and getting up from his chair by the fire when story and elevenses were ended. ‘Well, I must needs tramp the woods and cut a few trees; will you come with me, Ferdi?’

Ferdi smiled and agreed, taking up his cloak. His head was still bothering him, but he wanted to stay on Hally’s good side, keep his brother-in-love’s suspicions from being aroused. Farry would be safe enough here; he could hardly slip away with a houseful of Bolgers watching him.

His last glimpse of Faramir as he followed Hally out the door showed him Rosemary sitting the lad down on the bed again and stretching out his leg to change the dressing.





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