Tiger Lily tapped the pencil against the paper. Opal was seeing Buffo that day and with no one and nothing else to occupy her, her mother had given her the job of doing the family accounts for the month. In front of her was a pile of receipts and the ledger that showed how much the family had received in rents. The melancholy fog that had engulfed her after she broke with Rob still hung in the air around her, but she no longer felt the abject loss that had plagued her through the first few days. Now she felt blank, like a pebble run smooth by the river. She didn't look up as she heard the door open. She didn't need to; she recognised the sound of his tread.

"Hello, Tills," Sango said brightly.

Tiger Lily mumbled an unintelligible greeting in return.

"How was Yuletide?" he said, coming to lean against the bureau she was working at.

She shrugged. 1/6 for linen.

"Have you had any more letters from your father?"

"No."

"Ah… The post always gets delayed over Yule, you mustn't worry." He seemed to be waiting for her to say something but she kept her eyes down and her jaw in her hand as she wrote in the ledger. 1gn. 6s for each of the maids.

"Our Yule was nice," Sango said. "I would have preferred being in the old house with our old friends but we managed to make it quite merry, I suppose."

He paused again.

Tiger Lily still didn't look at him. 1gn. 13s for the head maid. 1gn. 4s for the groom.

"What are you doing?" he said.

"I'm doing the accounts for Mother," Tiger Lily said wearily.

He wrinkled his nose. "Father keeps trying to get me to help with ours. It's transcendentally dull. I don't have the head for it."

"Mmm…"

"Are you all right? You're being very quiet."

"I usually am quiet," she muttered, dipping her quill in the ink.

"Not when it's just us." He moved around to stand against the back of her chair and leaned forward. His breath tickled the hairs that lay against her neck and she could tell from his tone that he was grinning. "Get out for a bit. Away from all this."

"I have to do this, Sango," she said, increasingly irritated. "It's practice for when I'm married."

I will marry a gentlehobbit. We will have children. I will give everything I am to please them and I will be happy.

"There's plenty of time for that. I've been riding for more than an hour to be here."

She didn't respond. There was silence and then the chair started to move beneath her. She lifted her hand from the paper as the chair legs scraped harshly against the floorboards.

"Come on, dear heart," Sango said as he pulled the chair out. "We'll read a book or play backgammon or go for a walk…"

This was too much.

"Sango!" Tiger Lily smacked her hands down on the desk and rose from the chair, glaring at him. "Go away."

The words hung in the air and they stared at each other. His face was open; surprised, confused and hurt.

"Why?" he said with wide-eyed innocence.

She turned away and pretended to reorganise some of the receipts. "I'm sorry you've been travelling for so long, but you're going to have to spend the day with Monno, or Jesco, or Celestine, or Lorna, or whatever other friends you have because I'm busy here."

When she looked at him again his arms were folded. "What's wrong with you?" he said.

She sighed and looked back at the papers. "Nothing."

"Are you still upset about the Delver business?"

"No."

"Because you know that was for your own good."

"I know."

"I did the best I could for you," he said his voice rising with indignation. "You're lucky I caught it when I did, the level of risk you were putting yourself in—"

"I bloody know, all right! Just…" She pressed her hands to her eyes and groaned. She sniffed, and took in several deep breaths to calm her heart, palpitating in its prison. She took her hands away and looked at Sango again. He wasn't angry anymore, but neither was he at ease. The usual comfortable air with which he carried himself was gone.

"It's just I've been thinking about everything," she said. "You said that R— Master Delver would take my money and… other things. But he never asked me for money. Not once. And he never made me feel worried when I was with him. He never did anything to make me think he was less than honourable." She looked at Sango expectantly, awaiting a reply.

Sango attempted a smile, but it was strained at the corners. "It would only have been a matter of time, sweet."

Tiger Lily frowned. She felt she was on the edge of something. Something significant. "But when we were sat by the stream, the day after I saw him in the Green Dragon, you said you didn't have any reason to doubt his character. I don't know that he's done anything since then to change that."

"He tried to beguile you. That's reason enough," Sango said, fiddling with a cufflink.

"But when I told him I wanted to remain a maiden he agreed without question. And if he's not done anything to mark him as a cad, then what makes his pursuit of a lass worse than any other lad's pursuit?" A spark of defiance lit itself inside her and she scowled. "What makes it worse than your pursuits?"

"Are you comparing me to him?" he said indignantly.

"Not necessarily," she said. "I just want to understand."

He snatched up his hat and glowered at her. "If you don't understand that, do you really think you'd be able to tell if a lad was mistreating you?"

She watched him from the corner of her eye. "Possibly not."

They stayed looking at each other for an uncomfortable few seconds. It was Sango who gave way and cast his eyes to the ground first. "I'll leave you to your work. Good day."

He left. Tiger Lily at herself back down at the bureau, but found she no longer had a head for numbers.

No one spoke, everyone too disheartened to even try and lift the mood. A long row of unfinished stone houses stretched out along Hobbiton Road. To Meg it felt like they had been building forever. There had never been fields of wheat, turning from green to ripe gold under the sun. There had only ever been stone.

The house she was working on at the moment had become so tall they'd had to build a flimsy wooden structure around it for the Hobbits to stand on while they laid bricks. Meg had never gone up more than two or three steps at a time before and standing on the platform for the first time had paralysed her. But now even that feeling of uneasiness had numbed along with her hands, smeared with concrete. Her stomach ached from lack of food. Laying brick after brick, building the walls higher and higher until they blocked out the sun.

As always a group of Men were supervising them, occasionally jeering at a lass or telling the workers to go faster, only to complain when the quality of work suffered as a result.

We're just bodies, Meg thought in her work-induced daze. Just bodies to them.

Her father was bringing another bucket of bricks over to the pulley, where Rob had been tasked with pulling them up to Meg and the other bricklayers. As Mr Delver approached he stumbled and was only just able to stop himself from dropping the bucket.

"You all right there, Dad?" she said, leaning over the rail.

"I'm fine. Just need a minute," he said, putting his hands on his back and breathing heavily as Rob quietly tied the bucket to the end of the rope. Meg looked around for any of her other brothers but couldn't see them amongst the walls and rubble.

"You two: keep moving," one of the Men shouted.

Too weary to argue, Meg turned and dragged herself away from the rail. Rob strained to pull the new bucket up to the platform. As she laid the bricks down she kept an eye on her father as he made the journey to bring yet another bucket. He was half way across the yard when the bucket fell from his hands and he dropped heavily onto his hands and knees, his face contorting with pain.

"Dad!" Meg climbed down the ladder as quickly as she could, her feet slipping over a few rungs in her haste.

"My back's gone," he said through gritted teeth as Meg knelt beside him. "I'll be all right in a minute."

"I told you two to keep going," the Man said, approaching them, his hand tensing around the club he was carrying.

Meg squinted up at him; a pale shadow against the sky. "Can't you see he's hurt?" she said. "If you just let him rest for five minutes—"

"If he can't do the work he should leave. The Boss isn't paying coin to those that can't make 'emselves useful."

"He just needs a couple of minutes. He's a person like you an' he's doing his best." Even knowing it was unwise, Meg continued, the last few months of frustration unravelling through her mind and into her tongue. "Why're you even here? Why're we even doing any of this? This is our home, we don't have to—"

The next thing she knew she was lying on the ground. Half of her face was damp and cold with mud, pricked by the ends of what remained of the grass. The other half was occupied with a throbbing pain across her temple. She lay in a daze, only-half aware of her surroundings.

"Don't you dare lay a hand on my daughter!" her father's voice was saying. "What sort of person strikes down a lass half his size?"

"You all right, Meg?" Rob's soft voice said from somewhere above her.

One of her hands was lying in front of her face. She flexed the fingers experimentally. "Think so," she said.

Rob knelt in front of her and helped her sit up while she looked around.

Mr Delver had recovered himself enough that he had drawn himself up to full, red-faced fury. "You can't treat us like this! We'll— we'll refuse to work!"

Silence rippled out as the clinking and banging of work halted. The Hobbits around them stopped and watched to see how this was going to go.

"Is that so?" the Man said, folding his sturdy arms across his chest. "Do I need to have a word with the Boss about troublemakers? Do I need to tell him that you're not to be given a job in any of his enterprises?"

"You can't even remember my name," Mr Delver said.

The Man grinned. His teeth were yellow. "Your lot all look the same to me. But I'm sure I could find someone who knows all about you and where you live and who your wife is and how many there are in your brood."

The Man looked over at Meg and for the first time she felt truly frightened. She put her hand on Rob's shoulder to ease herself up onto her feet. "I'm fine, Dad," she said. "I should've listened when you said you were. I was making a fuss over nothing, sir," she said, tentatively addressing the Man. "Please don't tell Mr Lotho."

The Man emptied his pipe onto the ground. "I will consider it."

Meg and Mr Delver exchanged glances as the Man walked away.

"You all right, lass?" he said, putting his hands on her temple to examine her. "Does it hurt?"

"Not much," Meg said, trying not to wince.

Around them everyone had returned to work, only slightly on edge. It was almost as though nothing had happened.

Is this what life's like now, never knowing when the knife's going to fall down on you?

"Mr Hobble says the Mayor's coming soon to sort it all out," Rob said.

Mr Delver sighed and looked out over the bleak winter landscape; bleaker than usual. "If he is he'd better be quick about it."

Tiger Lily awoke the next day feeling contrite. So she saddled her pony and rode up to Overhill, wrapped up in cloak and comforter. The air was that penetrating kind of cold that chilled you in and out; the kind that once you had been outside in it, would make it impossible for you to warm up completely until bed. Passing through Hobbiton she was surprised to see a group of Hobbits at the foot of the Hill. They were wrapped up in heavy coats and didn't seem to belong there. The Men around Bag End were looking down on them with disgust. As she passed the Hill Tiger Lily quickened her pony to a canter in case there was going to be trouble.

When she arrived at The Rookery she was told Master Sango was walking with his cousin Balbus, was expected home soon, and that Mrs Boffin was already entertaining and wouldn't object to Tiger Lily waiting with her. After a brief internal debate, Tiger Lily decided sitting with Mrs Boffin was preferable to going out in the cold again and accepted the offer. As she opened the door she immediately regretted it as a harsh, shrill voice cut through the air with, "Is he still traipsing around with that Took lass?"

It was Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.

Tiger Lily stomach gave a lurch, but it was too late to close the door and pretend she'd never been there. She stepped inside and curtseyed to the assembled ladies, but was too flustered to make a proper introduction. "I'm sorry, Mrs Boffin. The maid said I might sit with you a while."

"Yes, do sit down, dear," Mrs Boffin said and turned to the other ladies. "Lobelia, Breynia, this is Miss Tiger Lily Took: Sango's little friend."

It rankled Tiger Lily to be referred to as his 'little friend' given that they had been acquainted for twenty years at this point and she knew him better than anyone else.

Breynia was the Sango's aunt by marriage; the mother of Balbus and the wife of Beldo. She was a Took by birth and smiled warmly as Tiger Lily was seated beside her, trying to avoid meeting anyone's eyes.

"Married yet?" Mrs Sackville-Baggins's voice pierced through the air like an arrow.

Tiger Lily turned her eyes up to look at Lobelia but kept her head bent, not daring to look her full in the face. How could Mrs Boffin have her here, the mother of the person doing so much harm to so many people? But she didn't say any of that.

"I'm twenty-seven, madam."

"What's that to the point?" Mrs Sackville-Baggins drew herself up proudly. "I was married at twenty-three."

"Yes…" Mrs Boffin leaned forward to refill her cup. "People don't tend to get married quite so young these days, Aunt."

"Getting married young is good for lasses; gets them settled. What else would they be doing? Frittering away their time, making hussies of themselves? Anyone who waits to marry a daughter off is just wasting time. You'd know that if you had one, Sara."

Mrs Boffin made a vaguely-agreeable hum as she sipped her tea. She looked to be visibly melting and didn't bother pointing out that Mrs Sackville-Baggins didn't have a daughter either.

"Bracegirdles," Breynia murmured as Lobelia and Mrs Boffin continued to argue the point of the suitable marriageable age. She smiled puckishly at Tiger Lily. "Have you heard anything from your father?"

"Not recently. He's been ill," Tiger Lily said, secretly tired of people asking.

"Oh." She did a pitying smile, with her lower lip jutted slightly out. "I'm sure he's well. My sister Ivy's mentioned him in one or two of her letters."

"Has she said how he is?" Tiger Lily said too quickly. "Is he getting better?"

"I haven't had a letter since November, I'm sorry."

Tiger Lily's disappointment must have been visible, because Breynia suddenly became very keen to change the subject. "Did you know it was at our wedding you and Sango met?"

"Yes, so I've heard," Tiger Lily said. She had been told the story many times, though she had no memory of it herself. For her, Sango had always been there, as constant as the sun or moon.

"It's so sweet that you're still friends after all this time. Are we to expect another wedding in the future?"

Tiger Lily smiled nervously to try and mask her discomfort. "I'm not sure about that. He's courting another young lady at pr—"

"Would you like some tea?" Mrs Boffin said, louder than was proper.

Tiger Lily understood the meaning; that Sango's young lady was not to be mentioned. She considered fighting back, perhaps mentioning Lavender by name, but she cowed at Mrs Boffin's glower and ducked her head again.

"No, thank you," she whispered.

"You were saying?" Breynia said.

"Nothing. Um…" She tried desperately to think of something new to say but all she could think of was, "Do you miss being a Took, Aunt?"

"Oh," Breynia said, taken aback. "Gosh. No, of course not."

"Really? Not at all?" Tiger Lily said, not questioningly but instead looking for reassurance. "Does your husband let you keep Tookish customs? He's not—" She stopped herself before she realised how inappropriate it would be to ask if he was ashamed.

"He's not what?"

"Nothing. Sorry, I know it isn't any of my business. It's only that I've been thinking about marriage a lot lately and I… and I…" She looked down at her folded hands; the smooth skin and unbroken nails. "I don't know."

"I don't keep any Tookish customs," Breynia said kindly. "Not that Beldo's ever forbidden it. I just… stopped. For propriety's sake, I suppose." She laughed quietly, as though surprised by what she'd found. There was a Tookish glimmer in her eyes. "I used to so enjoy climbing trees when I was young. I haven't thought about it in years."

"And you're glad?" Tiger Lily said. "You're glad that things turned out this way?"

Breynia picked up her tea cup and brought it to her lips. The glimmer had gone. "Of course. I love my family. I wouldn't have done it any other way."

Tiger Lily digested this as she watched Breynia take her tea. So it would be all right. Of course it would be. Why had she ever thought differently? If Breynia could be content as a respectable housewife then she could be too.

I will marry a gentlehobbit. We will have children. I will give everything I am to please them and I will be happy.

A maidservant announced that Sango and Balbus had returned and Tiger Lily gratefully left the parlour to greet him.

"Tills," he said as he removed his winter coat. "I wasn't expecting you today." He was speaking so casually, like they hadn't argued the day before. They seemed to be arguing a lot more than usual lately.

"I'm sorry I told you to go away yesterday," she said.

He shook his head. "You don't need to be, I'm sorry I was being a pain. Did you manage to get your accounts done?"

"Mother found some mistakes and had to do them again. Um…" Tiger Lily watched Balbus disappear into the parlour to join his mother and the other ladies. She waited until the door was closed to continue speaking. "When I told you about Ro— Master Delver, you said you could introduce me to one of your friends, to help me find a suitor. Could you still do that?"

He looked surprised at this. "I— Yes, certainly. Are you sure you're ready?"

"Yes. None of it was real so I can't have any real heartbreak, can I?"

He paused, opening his mouth hesitantly as though trying to taste the words before they came out. "I'm not sure that's how it works."

"I suppose you know better than me. But it's like you said, when I'm left alone I just mope. It's time to move forward."

He grinned at this. "Yes, of course. We're having a little get together at the Ivy Bush, I'll see who can come along. I'm so glad you're feeling better."

Tiger Lily listened to him talk, feeling more reassured with every second. Now she knew what it was like to feel romantic affection for someone, she was sure she'd be able to make herself feel it again for someone new. All she had to do was try hard enough.

A/N: This chapter's delayed by a month due to procrastination and time wasters who don't keep their promises, Dave.

So the final chapter of The Hobbit talks about the Sackville-Bagginses, plural. They're not named individually but the family trees in RotK along with Letter #214 imply that Otho was the first hobbit to have the name 'Sackville-Baggins', which means that he and Lobelia must have been married by the time of Bilbo's return. Personally, I'd go further and say they were married before Bilbo left because it kind of implies he had a relationship with them as a couple prior to his adventure. If we look at the dates, this means that Lobelia would have gotten married when she was 23 at most. How old that makes her in human terms varies depending on the ageing system you use but given that the average age of first-time motherhood in the Shire is 38, 23 seems unusually young to be getting married (especially since for hobbits 1-3 years seems to be the normal gap between marriage the birth of the first child, though we don't have enough figures to prove that that emphatically).

I know John Ronald almost definitely didn't intend for these implications, but it's what we've got and I thought I'd roll with it for ~*t~h~e~m~a~t~i~c*~ reasons.

In short: I like spreadsheets and have too much time on my hands.