51. A Visit from the Thain
'This morning marks one week until you depart for Gondor!' Merry announced at breakfast – though the reminder was hardly necessary! As if to rub in the fact that, for the better part of the next few weeks, Pippin and Diamond would be eating travel rations in the saddle or around a campfire or enjoying the rough hospitality of an outpost of King's Messengers, he took a piece of toast from the rack, buttered it, and applied a generous quantity of marmalade before taking a hearty bite. 'Mmm,' he said, and after chewing and swallowing the mouthful and chasing it down with a swig of steaming tea, he added, 'Simply marvellous.'
In earlier days, Pippin would have been counting down the days and, without a doubt, trying to work out a way to leave sooner. Now, he simply favoured his cousin with a sour look that made Merry chuckle.
'Honestly, cousin, you'd think you were going to your funeral rather than on holiday. I always thought you enjoyed your forays south!'
'I have...' Pippin began, but Estella interrupted him.
'Do you know,' she said to Diamond, 'I was talking to Samwise before he and Rose departed, and he said the most curious thing!'
'And what was that?' Diamond said, further forestalling Pippin's retort to Merry.
'He said "as how" our darling husbands "have been south more than once, they sort of belong there too now",' Estella recited, somehow managing to mimic the Mayor's tone and cadence so as to be perfectly recognisable, even when spoken in her high, light voice.
Indeed, Diamond answered, 'Why I can just hear him saying it!'
More light talk flew about the breakfast table, with Estella advising Diamond about packing and Merry chiming in with helpful suggestions and Merry's parents asking questions and Pippin scarcely able to fit a word or two in edgewise. At last, the young Steward stood up from his chair abruptly, interrupting Merry's description of the Greenway as he and Estella had recently seen it in their return from Edoras.
'Yes, cousin?' Merry said, blinking up at him. 'Was there something...?'
'There might've been, if only I could hear myself think,' Pippin returned, folding his serviette and dropping it upon the table.
'Wasn't it you who asked Frodo about the advisability of thinking at breakfast?' Estella said brightly.
Pippin fixed her with a stern look. 'How would you know about that?' he demanded.
'When Freddy was helping him to write down his account of his journeys, they allowed me to read some of the pages,' she said. 'I have to admit, you excelled at lightening his spirits along the way with your strings of questions and ridiculous observations! Not to mention the songs...!'
Then she turned to Merry, whose smile had faded, and patted his hand. 'No worries, dearest,' she said. 'Freddy assured Frodo early on that he wouldn't let me read some of the difficult parts, even though I pestered the two of them most abominably.'
'I'm glad of that, my dear,' Merry murmured, taking up her hand and lifting it to kiss her fingers.
A knowing look passed between the three wives – Esmeralda, Diamond and Estella – but was gone before the Travellers noticed. For Pippin had a habit of talking in his sleep, and Diamond had shared the knowledge she'd acquired in the depth of many nights with these others who loved him and Merry and sought to understand the trials they'd passed through and the scars they bore.
Now Estella sought to distract the Travellers from whatever dark memory might have arisen at the mention of Frodo's written account. 'It's a good thing, too!' she said.
'What's a good thing?' Saradoc thought to ask.
'You ought to have seen the description my venerable and ancient cousin wrote of the Birthday Party! All dry and dull and dusty, I assure you! Why, I had to remind him of the marvellous fireworks we all enjoyed that day... he'd even left off the dragon with its glaring eyes, breathing fire and roaring and whizzing over the crowd!'
'A dragon!' Diamond said in surprise. She'd heard about the fireworks, but no north-Tooks had been invited to the Birthday Party, and even if her family had been there, she'd have been little more than a faunt at the time.
'A dragon made of fireworks,' Pippin explained, some of his good humour returning at the memory. 'The most... exciting... dinner bell I've ever heard rung, I assure you!'
Diamond took her husband's hand. 'Sit down, dear, do... and have another serving of eggs and kippers.'
Pippin squeezed her hand and bent to drop a kiss on her upturned face. 'I need to earn my keep,' he said. 'Why, they're likely to throw me out on my ear at any moment if I don't pull my weight...' He beetled his brows at Merry, and Merry laughed.
'At any moment!' the older cousin said. 'And I must say I fear the damage that may be done to your ear when we throw you out upon it!'
After a few more light exchanges, Pippin was gone, and Merry was scooping the last of his lightly scrambled eggs onto what remained of his last piece of buttered toast. 'The work won't do itself,' he said when Esmeralda asked if he'd have another serving.
'No, but I also find it doesn't seem to disappear when you come belated,' Saradoc said.
'No, but it only piles up higher!' Merry countered, and his father laughed and shook his head, admitting that this seemed to be his experience as well.
A moment or two later, Merry was off to the study. Diamond and Estella excused themselves, 'for I have so much planning and packing to do,' as Diamond put it, 'and I'm certain you're going to need help!' as Estella added.
Left alone at the table, Esmeralda and Saradoc exchanged a long, silent look, and then the Master refilled their teacups. 'Our lads are growing up so fast...' Esmeralda said.
'Have grown up, you mean,' Saradoc answered. 'I can still hardly imagine young Pip with a babe of his own...'
'Nor can he,' Esmeralda joked. 'But Diamond manages the two of them quite well, I find.'
She did not have to add that she would miss the lively presence of her nephew and his little family, for she knew that Saradoc felt the same.
***
Near the end of a full day spent addressing various tasks, Pippin distracted himself from the looming departure by checking on Crickhollow. He and Merry had kept the small house for a private place where one could get away from the bustle of life at the Hall. After finding everything in order there, he turned his pony's face to the east and rode to the brick-lined tunnel under the high hedge that separated Buckland from the Old Forest. There, he knew from reading one of the reports stacked on his desk, a repair crew ought to be at work replacing one or more of the iron bars in the gate on the forest side.
Even though teatime was approaching, he found the crew still at work, which was not surprising. Prudence dictated taking advantage of the long days this time of year to accomplish as much as possible. Winter would arrive before they knew it, whether Pippin was here or in Gondor.
'The work's coming along.' Hob Hayward greeted Pippin with the news at the entrance to the tunnel under the hedge. Like the young Steward, he'd stopped to check on the workers' progress. The old fellow, though looking greyer than he had when he'd welcomed Merry back from the dead nearly a dozen years earlier, was still spry enough to serve as one of Buckland's two Shirriffs. Twelve more Shirriffs, three in each Farthing, worked for Mayor Samwise in the Shire proper. Of course, these days Nob observed the traditional functions of a Shirriff, as had always been since the days the first Mayor had taken up his duties. No longer was he Lotho's type of Shirriff, as he'd reluctantly been when the Travellers had returned from their journeying. Since Deputy Mayor Frodo had returned all of Lotho's Shirriffs to their previous occupations, Hob had enjoyed traipsing the northern half of the Buckland. Primarily, his duties comprised dealing with strayed animals and notifying farmers when their fences needed repairing.
On one of his periodic inspections of the High Hay, Hob had noticed that some of the iron bars in the Brandybucks' private gate were loose, and he'd informed Master Saradoc of the fact. The Shirriff, for one, had no interest in going into the Old Forest to search for one or more cows that might break through the weakened gate to feast on the rich grass in the meadow between the High Hay and the Forest. He shook his head now, listening to the forehobbit inform the young Steward, 'Turns out, we needed to replace more than one o' the bars...'
A shout from behind them interrupted the forehobbit's explanation. 'Master Steward!'
Pippin excused himself to the Shirriff and workers and turned to meet the messenger at the Buckland entrance to the brick-lined tunnel.
'I'm that glad to finally find you at last! There's a party from the Tookland, just arrived at the Hall,' the lad said, gasping in relief and excitement.
Pippin shaded his eyes against the westering Sun and frowned at the pony's lathered flanks and heaving sides. 'I do not think the news deserves such hard riding,' he said. Despite the quizzical look he aimed at the messenger, the tightness of his jaw suggested a rebuke was in the offing in the event of a lame excuse.
The lad's eyes widened. 'But the Thain himself is come!'
Pippin began to speak but then paused as if gathering his thoughts. Then he met the rider's eager gaze once more and spoke in a firm tone. 'Even that news does not warrant riding a pony so hard on such a hot day,' he repeated. 'You will walk Wingfoot all the way back to the Hall.'
'But I was to take back your reply!' the boy gasped.
'You may convey my message when you get there on a nicely cooled out pony. Say that I will come when my task here is done. Walk the pony, mind.'
'Yessir,' the boy gulped, and turning his mount back towards the Hall, he obediently proceeded at a sedate pace.
Pippin shook his head and turned back to the discussion. 'Excuse the interruption, Mereloc,' he said to the forehobbit. 'You were saying..."
***
When his business was concluded, Pippin turned Socks back towards the Hall and proceeded at a slow jog. As he passed a field where a three-pony plough was breaking the soil for the winter barley planting and sending clouds of dust into the air, he pulled his scarf over his mouth so as not to breathe the dust. Beyond the Hall, the River sparkled golden in the afternoon sunlight of autumn, prompting the young Steward to wonder how they might bring the River to the fields in years of drought like this one. Merry had told him about reading a manuscript in the great library in Minas Tirith describing the digging of canals. If this drought continued into the winter months, it might be a good idea to look into the topic while he was visiting Minas Tirith.
Diamond was waiting with wee Faramir at the door to the Hall when he and Socks entered the courtyard. He rode up to her with a grin. 'Been waiting long?' he asked.
'No – I knew you'd be sure to finish in time to play with your son before he seeks his bed.'
Tiny Faramir waved his arms excitedly, calling, 'Bah!'
At Pippin's grin, Diamond brought the babe closer, lifting him into his father's grasp. 'Bah, yourself!' he replied. 'Come, lad, help me put this pony away.' He steadied the little one on the saddle before him as they ambled over to the water trough by the stable doors. Bracing Farry securely in the saddle, Pippin dismounted and handed the ends of the reins to Faramir.
'Here, lad, hold Socks for me. Don't let him run away, now!' The little one chortled in glee, rocking in the saddle (Pippin stood ready to make a quick grab if the little one lost his balance), pulling against Pippin's hold on the reins and kicking his heels against the saddle.
Socks turned his head to see what all the commotion was about, blew a long sigh, shook his head and turned back to the trough.
When Socks finished drinking, the young Steward reached up and slipped his son off the saddle and into the crook of his elbow. 'Well done, laddie!' he said with a smile.
'Bah!' replied Faramir proudly, pounding on Pippin's shoulder with his little fists. The two led the pony into the stables, little son babbling and young father answering as if the baby's talk made complete sense to him.
And perhaps it did, Diamond thought whimsically. She chuckled and shook her head, then turned away to return to the cool darkness of the Hall to announce her husband's imminent arrival.
***
Pippin put his head in at the parlour door, nodding a greeting to the Brandybucks and their visitors. 'I'm not fit to be seen,' he said, 'Give me a moment to change and I'll join you.' He put Faramir down and aimed him towards Diamond. 'Go see your mother, lad,' he urged. 'I'm sure she can find you a treat.'
With a squeal of glee, the tiny hobbit rocked forwards and backwards on his hands and knees, then began to crawl towards his mum.
As Pippin turned away, he heard his mother exclaim in surprise and Diamond's response, 'Yes, our little lad started crawling just after his first birthday... Pip thinks he'll walk well before he turns two...'
Followed by Paladin's dry observation, 'He'll likely be climbing trees by then, if he's anything like his da.'
Not wanting to take time to bathe, Pippin washed quickly by way of the ewer and basin on the washstand. He finished by bending over the basin and dumping the rest of the water in the pitcher over his head, gasping at the shock of the cool water on his sun-warmed skin. He vigorously rubbed himself dry, assumed fresh clothing, and made sure all the buttons had gone into the right holes after finishing his rapid dressing.
Upon returning to the Master's parlour, he found his Auntie Esmeralda had poured out his tea and fixed it the way he wanted, while Diamond had loaded a plate for him.
'Come, husband, you must be hungry,' the latter said.
'Not particularly,' Pippin replied, just to see her reaction. Though he suppressed a chuckle, mischief flashed in his eyes.
Diamond was undaunted. 'Well, then, I am hungry, and so you must eat!' she commanded.
Pippin gave a mock sigh and shook his head. 'It's the story of my life,' he said ruefully, then turned to greet his father. 'Hullo, Da,' he said. 'You're looking well.'
'Perhaps you need your eyes examined,' Paladin said in reply, then held up his hand and conceded, 'I'm well enough.'
'Very well,' Pippin said. 'You're looking well enough.'
'I've come to ask you to reconsider,' the Thain said abruptly. He was not much for social chit-chat, preferring to get straight to the point. Becoming Thain had robbed him of his easy manner. As a plain farmer, he'd always had time to exchange pleasantries. As Thain, he'd eventually grown used to the constant demands on his time and learned not to waste breath on a lot of unnecessary words.
His son gazed at him clear-eyed while the Brandybucks sat as silent witnesses to the conversation. At last, Pippin answered, 'I'm told they cannot spare me from Buckland. It seems they value my services as Steward to the Brandybucks.'
Paladin swore. 'You're wasting your time as Steward – you know very well that your duty lies in preparing for the day when the Tooks will confirm you as the new Thain!'
'You cannot dictate your terms to me any longer,' Pippin said mildly. 'You cannot buy or sell me as if I were merely a possession belonging to the Tooks...' Diamond gasped at the harsh statement, presented baldly without the softening buffer of light talk. Pippin concluded, '...and you cannot direct how I choose to live my life.'
Paladin sputtered incoherently, while Eglantine sat with her mouth open, aghast.
Pippin glanced from father to mother, and seeing tears gathering in Eglantine's eyes, he added more softly, 'I'm sorry, Mum, but I've thought long and hard on the matter, and this is the way things have got to be.'
He looked back at Paladin and concluded, 'You're going to have to get yourself someone else to be Thain after you.'
The Thain exploded. 'Thought long and hard on the matter! I find that hard to believe... The Tooks speak of you as an idler, a wastrel – a maker of mischief and stirrer of trouble! Would you ruin your son as well, Peregrin!'
Saradoc started to speak, but Merry stood up from his chair, placed a hand on his father's shoulder to stay him and broke in quietly. 'Uncle,' he said.
Paladin turned to his nephew. 'Can't you talk some sense into this fool's head?' he demanded. 'If he refuses to return to the Smials, how will he ever mend his reputation amongst the Tooks? He's only making his own road more difficult...'
'Uncle,' Merry repeated more quietly, but the steel in his tone subdued Paladin to silence. 'The word "fool" falls too easily from your lips. I'd advise you to put it away. Your son is a knight of Gondor, honoured by the King for his noble deeds.'
Paladin snorted. 'Noble deeds! What did he do, relieve the King of his troubles by acting as court jester? He excels at that! Bright mail and fancy sword do not a warrior make.'
Unmoved, Merry went on, 'Your son accompanied the Ring-bearer to the Southlands on his journey to deliver Middle-earth from the evil of the Dark Lord.'
Though the dread name obviously made him uneasy, Paladin snorted again. 'Folktales are best suited to frightening hobbit lads and lasses sitting by the Yuletide fire.'
Saradoc opened his mouth to protest, but Merry continued as if his uncle had not spoken. 'While on that journey, we were waylaid by an orc host and forced to travel in their company from the Falls of Rauros nearly to Isengard. Your son endured whip and slash as he was driven forty leagues and five in three days, most of that on his own legs. They carried us only when our strength gave out and they decided carrying was faster than dragging their prisoners.'
He had the attention of all in the room now. 'But Pip kept his head. Fully knowing he'd suffer the whips of our captors, or worse, he dodged to one side in order to leave markers for those who followed us. Later, when hope seemed impossible, he managed to free his hands, and by his wits he seized the chance to escape when it presented itself.'
Merry pulled back his sleeves, baring the scars on his wrists. 'Have you never seen such marks on your son?' he demanded. 'Were it not for his wit and courage, I would not stand before you now.'
Paladin muttered something, but Merry was not finished. 'Pippin saw the Dark Lord eye to eye, yet he was neither destroyed nor corrupted. Afterwards, he endured the siege of Gondor – surely some of the tales have reached the Shire? ...and he slew a troll and saved the life of a stalwart soldier of Gondor.'
'Slew a troll!' Paladin broke in. 'I was informed it was merely a story he told to amuse the lasses on Mid-year's Day.'
Merry lowered his voice as he corrected his uncle. 'You were misinformed. He slew a troll, gutted the creature, indeed, defending his friend, while Men twice his height fell back in dismay. The creature toppled onto him, and he was buried beneath its body and nearly died.' He measured the Thain with his glance. 'Did he never tell you that?'
The Took drew himself up to his full stature, but he still had to look up to meet Merry's steady gaze. 'He spoke only in jest, as has always been his way!' His eyes narrowed as he added, 'And who are you, Nephew, to take it upon yourself to tell me of my son?'
Saradoc rose from his chair and moved to stand beside Merry, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. His voice filled with pride, he said, 'Who is he? Why, Brother, this is the Rider of Rohan who followed his King into battle, and thrust his sword into the Witch King of Angmar, Dark Captain of the Nazgûl, to defend his Lord.'
Paladin's eyes widened at the mention of the Witch-king, a dire legend in the Shire. He opened his mouth but, at a loss for words, shut it again.
Saradoc held the Thain's gaze, for he was not yet finished. 'Which of your warriors might say the same?' he challenged, then continued, 'This is the Captain who rallied the Shire to throw out the ruffians, while all of Tuckborough hid in deep caves and only attacked from cover. Certainly, the Tooks and Tooklanders defended the Tookland. But my son, and yours, and their companions, freed the Shire of the Scourge of Saruman.'
Paladin stood breathing hard, and he shook his head in frustration. Then he turned again to Pippin. Voice almost pleading, he began, 'Son...' After drawing a deep breath, he went on, 'I have always tried to do what I thought was best.'
Pippin nodded. 'I know,' he said.
Encouraged, the Thain pressed on. 'My hope for you since the Thainship was thrust upon me was that you, with the benefit of preparation – a luxury that your father was not afforded, might become the finest Thain in the history of the Shire, one whose name would be remembered in honour, like Isumbras the First, or Gerontius.'
Merry chuckled, and when Saradoc turned to him in surprise he said softly, 'I think he's managed that even without becoming Thain.'
'All I have built up, I built for your benefit,' Paladin appealed. 'In the days when I had only the cares of a farmer, I kept the land to the best of my ability for my children and theirs after them! As Thain – when the ruffians came, I held the Tookland – for the Tooks and Tooklanders, surely, but also for you and for your children and your grands. Long after the Tooks declared you dead, I held out hope that you were still in the world, and that you would return to be Thain after me.'
But Pippin only shook his head.
His father tried again. 'But what will the Shire do without a Thain?'
'There wasn't a Thain before Bucca of the Marish. The Shire-folk found one then. They can go and find another in much the same way.'
Paladin tried to attack the problem from a different approach. 'You can make the choice for yourself, but what about Faramir? Do you want your son to turn out as you have?'
Pippin met his eye squarely as he replied, 'I hope so.' And then he smiled and shook his head, and he said softly, 'It is not my place to choose Faramir's destiny for him.' He raised his chin and added more firmly, 'I cannot, in all honesty, foresee any return to Tuckborough on my part. It's not my place anymore – to become Thain. It is not mine, and it is not my son's.'
Desperate, Paladin tried one last time. 'There's been a Thain and Took in the family in unbroken line all the way down from the first Took who assumed the office when the Oldbucks renounced it.' His tone was incredulous as he asked, 'You would destroy the Succession? You'd throw it all away?'
Pippin smiled. 'I would rather see my son working at honest labour and married to a farmer's daughter than groomed for power and married to his advantage,' he said, the words quiet but final.
Pippin held his father's gaze until Paladin looked away, defeated, then picked up his teacup, drained it and set it down. 'Come to me, Son,' he crooned to the tiny tot in Diamond's lap. 'Let us see if there are any flowers in the gardens we can cut for your mum and grandmama and old auntie.'
Wee Faramir crowed and pushed at Diamond to set him on the floor, whereupon the tiny lad crawled to his father.
Pippin swung the babe up towards the ceiling, eliciting a shriek of delight, then tucked the tiny child into his elbow and chucked Farry under the chin. Putting on an air of dignity, the young father nodded to all in the parlour and took his leave.
***
Over the course of many conversations during the Tooks' visit to Brandy Hall, Pippin and his parents came to an understanding of sorts. Paladin even persuaded his wife not to share certain news from the Tookland that, he deemed, would have forced Pippin to drop everything and return to the Great Smials.
'No, but if the lad is to return, it must be done of his own will, and not for the sake of any other...' the Thain insisted. If he had any intentions of resolving the matter himself upon returning home, the only hint he offered his wife was, 'We'll see.'
Pippin's parents were floored to hear that Diamond and Pippin and little Farry would soon be setting out on a visit of their own to Gondor. One change that Merry noticed was Paladin's increasing tendency to listen and ask questions when Pippin talked.
By the time the Thain and Mistress of Tookland and their escort took their leave, a day before Pippin and Diamond and Farry were supposed to meet the King's escort at the North-gate, Paladin and Pippin seemed to have reached an understanding of sorts. Nevertheless, the subject of Pippin's return to the Great Smials did not come up again.
Many of the residents of Brandy Hall stood silently in the courtyard as the Thain and his party prepared to depart.
The Master reached out a hand, and the Thain, looking older, and somehow shrunken from the imperious figure that had ridden into the yard nearly a week earlier, took hold. 'You know that you and your wife are welcome at the Hall at any time,' Saradoc said.
'Oh, aye,' said the Thain. 'And you are always welcome at Great Smials. We'll roll out the red carpet for you.'
'Tooks are famous for their hospitality,' Esmeralda smiled, a hint of Tookish lilt betraying the depth of her emotions in the throes of parting.
The Thain turned to her, dropping Saradoc's hand abruptly to embrace his sister. 'You ought to know,' he muttered. 'Brandy Hall's fortunate indeed to have two such fine Tooks in residence.'
She returned the hug, blinking away tears as Paladin stepped back and offered his arm to Eglantine.
'Bah!' shouted Faramir from Diamond's arms.
A rare smile crossed The Took's face. He held out a finger to his grandson, who curled his wee fist around it, beaming. ' "Bah" yourself, laddie,' he said gently. He looked up and nodded at Diamond. 'Take care of these lads of yours,' he said. 'You've a fine boy... and his father's not too bad, either.'
Pippin, at Diamond's side, reached out a hand. 'Safe journey,' he said.
Paladin took the extended hand, grasped it wordlessly, and then suddenly pulled his son into a long hug, which Pippin returned fiercely. 'I have always loved you, my son,' Paladin murmured against his son's cheek.
'And I, you, Da,' Pippin returned.
Paladin's grip tightened, and then he released his son and stepped back. After a long, heartfelt look, he turned to help Eglantine mount her pony. Then he hauled himself into his saddle, and his escort followed suit.
'Safe journey, and return sooner than later!' Saradoc called. 'And may the smell of supper greet you on your arrival there and back again!'
The Thain lifted his hand in reply, and as the farewelling Bucklanders sang them on their way, the riders turned their ponies to the road and started the long journey back to Tuckborough.
***