Chapter 18. Celebrations

'So, did any sorrow mar your birthday, Farry?' Laurel asked. 'Contravening the orders of the Mistress?' To her mind, the silence after Faramir had finished recounting the consequences of the conspiracy had stretched on long enough.

'I don't know about Farry, but this has to be one of the most interesting birthdays I've ever had!' announced Adelbrim.

'And to think you began the day being eaten by a wolf... or nearly so,' Goldi said. 'I should've thought that would top any birthday celebration – the 'nearly so' part of it, I mean,' she added hastily.

Rudi chuckled, got up to stir the fire on the hearth and add another log, and then patted the escort's good shoulder as he went to sit down again. 'Happy Birthday, again,' he said. 'Would you like us to sing you the Song?'

'That won't be necessary,' Adelbrim said. 'A good story, now, I must say that would be welcome...'

'Or the ending of a good story, perhaps? As a matter of fact...' Faramir said. 'I don't think even Bilbo had such a perfect birthday as that one...'

***

Two days after the hearing, Farry's birthday dawned, and truly dawned, promising to be unusually warm and gloriously sunny. No April showers would happen on this day, it seemed! 

Even the large sitting room in the Thain's suite was not large enough to contain the birthday breakfast, what with Pearl and Isum visiting from the farm with all their children, and Pimpernel and Ferdi and all their children attending, and Pervinca and Meliloc and their wee lass. And Farry's Uncle Merry came with Auntie Estella and his little Brandybuck cousin all the way from Buckland! 

Diamond's north-Took relations were unable to attend due to the distance and the demands of planting-time on her father's farm, but they'd sent presents and good wishes by post earlier and promised to be "there in spirit" while conveying their commitment to come "without fail" to Faramir's twentieth birthday, when he'd cross the threshold of tweenhood. 

So the "family" birthday breakfast was held in the great room, instead, after which all of Farry's immediate family and close cousins retired to the largest parlour in the Great Smials, kept for grand occasions that were not quite so grand as to require the space provided by a banquet hall. There, the Gamgee children joined the celebration, along with Farry's more distant cousins and other friends from the Smials and Tuckborough. Gentry and common hobbits mingled freely, talking and laughing and singing and telling stories and generally having a lovely time while enjoying tea and accompaniments that needed no knives or forks or spoons. One bright spot for Farry was that all the foods on offer were his favourite choices from the tea sandwiches and savouries, biscuits and teacakes he'd "helped" his mum by sampling a week or so earlier. 

Shire birthdays may have their own etiquette and social constraints, but social distinctions are generally laid aside for such occasions by almost all Shire-folk, with a few notable exceptions including the Sackville-Bagginses and some factions of the Bracegirdles. Farry's birthday was no exception, meaning that even Sandy (his family's hobbitservant) and Rusty (who served Ferdi's and Tolly's families), as well as Old Tom (the Thain's stable master) and his sons, were honoured guests. 

For Farry, the event was a mix of joy, to be around so many friends and loved ones at once, and solemn duty, for there were so many birthday mathoms to be distributed amongst the crowd. (Indeed, he vowed to himself that he'd ask for a small, private birthday gathering next year, if not for more years in the future.) He'd simplified the matter somewhat by creating the same basic gift for everyone, with a few small variations. He worried, though, that people might take umbrage at receiving similar gifts. 

Two boxes that he'd decorated himself with some care stood upon the table by the entryway, one labelled "lads" and the other "lasses", with a large, carefully-lettered sign reading "Please take only one" propped between them and a larger sign fastened to the wall behind the table with the following instruction: "Please do not open your mathom until the bell is rung." The boxes were filled with handmade envelopes, each sealed with a blob of wax, prompting a buzz of speculation. What sort of mathoms could they be? 

As it were, some of the talk and laughter concerned Faramir's preparations. The lad was deemed "remarkably organised" and "quite extraordinary", though one or two murmured that his parents "should let the lad get out and about more", and one person was even heard to grumble that birthday presents should properly be opened immediately upon receipt and ought to be chosen with the recipient in mind rather than mass-distributed. 

Faramir had consulted his parents on the best time to open his mathoms, and they had helped him set the time as just before the party was scheduled to end, about an hour before the late noontide meal would be served in the great room, giving the celebrants time to take care of any personal business before the meal. When the time was right, Pippin clapped his hands and shouted for attention. Merry, standing beside him, had foresightedly brought his silver horn to the occasion, and he lifted it to his lips and blew a sharp blast. 

The room fell quiet. 'Thank you for coming to my birthday!' Farry shouted, and was answered by a rousing Huzzah!

'We shall now serenade our lad with the Birthday Song!' Pippin announced, then lifted a hand to his face as if he were about to whisper secretly – even as he spoke loudly enough for all in the room to hear him. Just which birthday is it, again?

'Twelve,' Farry answered with a grin. 

The Thain affected great astonishment. 'Twelve!' he exclaimed. 'Well I never!' 

Diamond bent close to his ear and whispered so low that no one else, not even Merry, as close as he was, could quite make out the words. 'That's because you never passed eleven!' 

He grinned at her and answered, 'That's what I love about you, my dear. You always have just the right word for the occasion!' 

(Of course, that left many in the crowd murmuring. What was it? and What did she say?) 

The promised serenade was sung, with the appropriate age inserted in the proper places, the Thain conducting the crowd as if they were an orchestra performing for his pleasure. 

When the song ended, Farry shouted, 'Does everyone have a mathom?' 

A thundering Aye! arose from the crowd. 

Farry turned to Diamond. 'Mum?' he said. 

Diamond beamed and lifted a small silver handbell high in the air, paused to make sure every eye was on her and every ear was listening, and then shook the bell gently, eliciting a delicate tinkle. 

As one, the celebrants tore open their envelopes. Inside were carefully inked drawings taken from nature: butterflies and bees (inside envelopes from the "lasses" box), caterpillars and beetles (from the "lads" box) and flowers and ferns (distributed evenly between both boxes). He'd even taken the time to tint the images with watercolours, though he'd been hard-pressed to finish them all in time. 

A general sigh went up, followed by low-voiced Ooohs and Ahhhs. Farry tugged anxiously at his mother's sleeve, and when she met his gaze, he whispered, 'Don't they like them?' 

'O my lad, my sweet, sweet boy,' Diamond said, and laid a tender kiss on his forehead. 'I think they like them very much.' 

One not-very-tactful hobbit asked Diamond if she had helped Farry with the mathoms, and she answered clearly, in a voice that penetrated to the borders of the room, 'O no! Faramir did it all himself! He's been doing little but drawing for weeks, I can tell you...!'  

And then it was time for the Thain's little family to station themselves by the door, where Faramir thanked each person individually for coming, and many thanked him in return, holding the beautiful drawings as if they were treasures of a sort.  

But as the Gamgees filed out in their turn, Farry touched Goldi's arm and whispered, 'Can you stay to the end? I've got...' 

But in that gathering, private conversations were scarcely possible. And so Goldi nodded and then pulled away to follow Frodo-lad and Rosie-lass and the rest, and Farry wondered if she'd even heard him. 

However, when the room was empty (for Farry told his parents and Uncle Merry and Auntie Estella, when they'd left as the "last ones out" and were on their way to the Thain's quarters, that he'd forgot something and needed to go back), and Farry re-entered it, he was alone for only a breath or two before Goldi pushed the door wider open and came in. 'I wanted to let Frodo know where I'd be so he wouldn't wonder,' she said. 

Farry nodded at this evidence of growing consideration on her part. 'That was thoughtful,' he said. 'I'm glad to hear it.' And then he extended the somewhat larger sealed envelope he held in his hand. 'Here, this is for you.' 

'But I got my mathom at the party, same as everyone else,' she protested. 

'Please,' Farry said. 'Take it. Open it? I made it especially.' 

Goldi slowly pried away the sealing wax and opened the flap. Farry held his breath as she withdrew the drawing, a cluster of leaves with a caterpillar eating holes in a leaf, another spinning a chrysalis, then a chrysalis hanging by itself from the stem of a leaf, and a third chrysalis, from which a butterfly was emerging, wet and cramped. And above the leaves fluttered a host of butterflies, dancing in the sunlight. 

Goldi gasped. 'O! It's beautiful!' And when her eyes met Farry's, he saw tears there. 'When did you do this?' she whispered. 'I mean, I saw some of the others you were working on... and I got a flower from the "lasses" basket...' 

'Yesterday,' Farry said. 'I hope...' He swallowed hard. 

'What do you hope?' Goldi said, her tone unusually gentle. 

'It's a message of hope,' he said, and pointed with his finger to the hungry caterpillar. 'That's us, you see?' 

'Uh-huh,' Goldi acknowledged. 

'And that's—' Farry said, moving his finger to almost-touch the chrysalis-spinning caterpillar, 'that's how we work and play and grow and learn all the things we need to learn to go on...' 

Goldi nodded. 

'And this is us, thinking about it all, because you have to think first before you can begin to understand...' Farry said, indicating the chrysalis. 'Does that make sense?' he added anxiously. Perhaps she'd think he was daft. 

'It does,' she whispered. 

'And this is supposed to be an idea of what my mum likes to call "growing pains",' Farry said, moving to the bedraggled-looking creature emerging from the last chrysalis. 'At least, that is what came to me when I first tried to draw a picture of them.' 

'Growing pains,' she echoed. 

Farry swallowed hard, and then he indicated the flock of butterflies rejoicing above the leaves. 'And this,' he said, 'this is the promise. It's what we can look forward to becoming...' 

The paper was trembling in Goldi's hands now, and then she suddenly threw her arms around Farry, still holding the drawing, and sobbed, 'O Farry!' 

Unsure of how to respond, he cautiously patted her back. 

At last, she pulled away, wiped at her face with her free hand, and said, 'How silly of me! Please forgive my lapse.' Farry thought it might be something she'd overheard a grown-up say, for he'd heard something similar in polite company. 

All he could think to say was, 'Shall we go to nuncheon?' 

***  

Quiet fell in the small parlour in Bridgefields when Farry finished his tale, and only the snap of the bright fire on the hearth broke the silence for some time.

At last, Rudi spoke. 'I do believe that little lad will make a fine Thain someday.'

Laurel kissed him on the cheek. 'And the little lass shows great promise as his Mistress.'

'O aye,' Adelbrim breathed. 'Ye ha' the right o' that.'

~ * ~ *~ * THE END * ~ * ~ * ~              

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Author's note: Some of the ideas in this chapter were inspired by Dreamflower's wonderful Miss Dora Baggins' Book of Manners, Chapter 10: On Birthdays.

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