Chapter Thirteen: Paladin's Struggle
It was after supper in Paladin's Study that the two adult hobbits met. Paladin sat down in the chair across from Saradoc, who was puffing away at lighting his pipe. The warmth from the fireplace set a comfortable tone to the room as Paladin settled himself in for a long and difficult conversation.
Having lit his pipe, Saradoc exhaled a long tendril of smoke. "So, Paladin, how goes the harvest?"
Puffing on his own pipe, "It goes well.", Paladin answered. "Most of the crops have been sold, or are being sold at the market. I just sent two wagon loads of grapes and a third laden with various other crops your way to Brandy Hall."
"Wonderful! I can already taste the excellent wine that your vineyard produces!" Saradoc grinned, "I've brought some of my best stock for you to taste!"
At this Paladin raised his eyebrows. "Have you?"
Saradoc got up and laid down his pipe. "Half a moment!", he said, then disappeared. He soon returned with a small wooden box that easily opened using a latch. Packed within a bit of straw laid a bottle filled with a dark liquid and sealed with a cork.
Paladin went over to his desk and found two small glasses inside a drawer and took them over to Saradoc, who filled them half full. Both hobbits waved the glasses under their noses and breathed in the bouquet.
Paladin closed his eyes as he swished the wine around in his mouth, and then swallowed. "Fine wine indeed!", he smiled. "How old was this bottle?"
Saradoc opened his eyes, "Let's see", he turned the bottle around to read the label, "I believe this bottle was laid from your very first harvest!"
"Let me see that!" Paladin took the bottle from Saradoc and read the label. "1374...indeed it is!" Paladin looked incredulous at his brother-in-law. "You've kept it all this time? Why?"
"To celebrate a most splendid occasion."
"And what splendid occasion would that be, may I ask?" Paladin didn't know what to think; he could only guess that Saradoc wanted to impress him for one reason....Merry. Paladin remembered various circumstances throughout their friendship when Saradoc resorted to such tactics, and the sharing of fine wine was without a doubt one of his methods. How much will this wine cost me?, he wondered. Certainly this bottle of wine is not the price of his son!
"The occasion of making a new beginning with my son!" Saradoc said, and drained his glass.
"A new beginning?"
"Yes! And I am willing to do whatever it takes to earn my child's trust once more--to make a fresh start." Saradoc watched Paladin's expression. "I thought you would be happy...if not for me, then at least for Merry."
Paladin's legs grew weak and sat down in his chair. "I am."
Saradoc sat down as well. He searched Paladin's face for anything resembling approval. "But your face betrays you." He let out a deep breath, "I should have been better prepared for this."
Paladin looked at Saradoc, "Prepared for what?"
"For, um....how should I say this?" Saradoc spoke with sincerity, "I was prepared for Merry to be attached to you; you have been the one at his side all these years--I was not. But I was not prepared for you, Paladin, to be attached...so deeply...to my own son."
"And should I not have been?" The fire was growing warm inside Paladin; and it wasn't emanating from the fireplace! "Are you saying it was all right for me to wipe the dirt and blood from his scraped knees, or to let him cry his heart out on my shoulder, but I wasn't allowed to love him?"
"No, Paladin, that isn't what I meant at all! You've taken it all wrong!" Saradoc tried to calm him, "I meant---"
"I know what you meant!" Paladin got up from his chair and stormed out of the study, slamming the door shut behind him. The ladies watched him in silence as he walked through the kitchen and out the door.
