The night before the great party, Drogo, Primula and Frodo had all bathed in the old copper tub. Primula had carefully laid out her best green challis dress with the cream-colored lace edging the basque. Frodo struggled into his best wool trousers and embroidered waistcoat while Drogo brushed out his wife's hair. Primula braided a thin green ribbon through her front hair while leaving the bulk of her soft brown curls to cascade down her back. When Primula sailed into the sitting room in her party finery, Frodo thought she was the most beautiful Hobbit ever.
Primula's eyes shone as she took Drogo's arm. Frodo took her other hand, and together they left their house and walked up the road toward Brandy Hall. As they rounded the curve, they could see the old smial all lit up from the inside, and they could hear music and laughter. Frodo gave Primula's hand a tug and skipped ahead, eager to get to the party.
Milo Burrows and Rorimac Brandybuck were at the door to greet guests, both dressed in fine brocaded waistcoats and grinning from ear to ear. Uncle Rory pinched Frodo's cheek, but Frodo was too excited to mind. Milo clapped him on the shoulder and presented him with a long square whistle with four holes in it. He showed Frodo how to wrap his mouth around the whole end of the whistle and blow four notes at once. Frodo took a deep breath and blew a shrill chord. Drogo rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.
"Milo, whatever were you thinking by giving him that?" he asked. "I suppose I'll be hearing it around the house for the next three weeks. He's already poking into everything with that glass Bilbo sent him --"
"Did I hear someone take my name in vain?" a voice called from the next room.
"Bilbo!" Frodo scurried over to greet his most astonishing cousin. "Oh, Bilbo, thank you ever so much for the glass! I can see all sorts of things with it. Bilbo, will you be telling stories tonight about the dragon?"
"One thing at a time, Frodo!" Drogo called. "Let Bilbo have a chance to catch his breath."
"Don't worry about a thing, Drogo, old boy," Bilbo laughed. "I most certainly will tell some stories," he told Frodo. "After all, someone's got to keep you young ones entertained between courses of the feast, hmm?"
Primula greeted Milo with a long, tight embrace. "Congratulations, darling," she said. "Look at you, all grown up and about to be betrothed to such a beautiful young lady. I wish you and Peony all the best."
"Thank you, Auntie Primula," Milo said. "This is for you. I looked around for something special for my favorite aunt." He placed a small package in her hand. She opened it to find a beautiful enameled brooch in the shape of a yellow rose. Primula smiled a soft, glowing smile at Milo as she pinned the brooch to her shoulder.
"Frodo!" Esme came running from the kitchen. "Just the Hobbit I was looking for. Frodo, how would you like to help me bring the food out to the tables?"
"Yes, please!" Frodo said.
"Frodo's become quite the little cook," Esme told Bilbo.
"Has he now? Well, maybe one day he can come to Bag End and cook a little for me," Bilbo said happily. "All Hobbit lads should know how to cook a good meal." Esme laughed and steered Frodo through the gathering crowd to the kitchen.
The dinner was every bit as rich and grand as Esme had promised. Frodo carried dish after dish to the long serving tables. After the last dish had been laid out, the feasting began. Frodo filled his plate with mashed turnips, nutty sprouts, sour pickles, crusty hot rolls and a big scoop of chicken salad. He put an apple and a pear into his pockets and raced to find a seat next to Bilbo. The children crowded close and ate their food listening to Bilbo telling fantastic stories about Elves and Wizards and enormous men who turned into bears. Most of the Brandy Hall children were familiar with the tales, as were the children from Hobbiton, but there was a sizeable contingent of Burrows children from Pincup who were hearing Bilbo's tales for the very first time, and their eyes were absolutely round with amazement.
Every now and again, Bilbo would pause and turn his attention to his own plate. Frodo would quickly look through the crowd for his parents. Drogo and Primula appeared content. Drogo carefully made sure that Primula's plate was always full of her favorite foods, for Primula had grown painfully thin during her long months of withdrawal. Her appetite had not yet returned fully, but Drogo continued to tempt her with delicacies, and Frodo could see that his mother was making an effort to eat. Esme flitted from table to table making things lively, and his Aunt Menegilda presided graciously over the whole affair. With a wiggle of contentment, Frodo turned his attention back to Bilbo, who was telling about the great dragon Smaug.
". . . and then I crept into his hall, and there he was! As big as a house, he was, fast asleep on top of a great mound of treasure."
"What kind of treasure?" one of the children asked.
"Oh, jewels and gold and silver, armor and crowns and cups, and all sorts of things," Bilbo said. "In fact, you'll see some of that treasure with your own eyes tonight."
"Where is it?" asked a very small Burrows child, leaping onto Bilbo's lap as if under the impression that he had a dragon's hoard tucked away in his pocket. Bilbo laughed and set the child down.
"Well," he said, "Milo's birthday cake should be arriving shortly from the kitchen. Somewhere in that cake is a gold coin straight from Smaug's hoard. So let's all go and see who gets the lucky piece of cake, eh?"
The crowd of children needed no more encouragement. As the cake was brought in, frosted a glittering white with roses and leaves and a large "M" all done in sugar, they cheered and crowded around, along with the adults. Milo blushed as he began to cut pieces from that wonderful cake and hand them around. Frodo hoped his mother would be the one to get the lucky gold coin, sure that it would help her become her old self again.
Suddenly there was a great shout. Peony had pulled the coin from the slice of cake that Milo had given her and was staring at it open-mouthed in astonishment. She looked so funny that Frodo could not help clapping along with everyone else, even though Primula had not been the lucky one.
After the cake had been eaten, the adults started moving the tables and chairs to the side, and a small orchestra began to set up in a corner. There was to be a dance for the adults. Cady Brandybuck herded Frodo and the rest of the children into another large room nearby where they could play without disturbing the dance. Bilbo came along and settled down in a corner. The smallest children followed him, and he was soon holding court again, telling more tales of adventure. The older children, led by Cady, were soon absorbed by elaborate games of Tag.
In the dance hall, Primula and Drogo sat to the side and watched the circles of brightly dressed Hobbits swirling and stamping, bowing and turning. As they watched, Asphodel Brandybuck Burrows glided over to her little sister.
"Thank you so much for coming, Primmy," she said. "I know how hard it must be for you to be celebrating right now. It means ever so much to Milo to have you here."
"Oh, Del," Primula said, tears shining behind her smile. "I know you'd do the same for Frodo. Family has to stick together."
"Right you are, Pretty Primmy," Asphodel said. "And if I'm spared till then, why, you can be sure I'll be out there dancing at Frodo's coming-of-age party."
"Speaking of dancing," Drogo said, "They're starting up the Springle-Ring. Mistress Primula Baggins, may I have this dance?"
Primula hugged her sister tightly and then took Drogo's hand. They found a spot near the edge of the dance floor where they wouldn't be in the way of the younger, spryer couples. The orchestra struck up one of the more popular tunes for the Springle-Ring, and Primula and Drogo started to dance.
Drogo was surprised and delighted to see Primula dancing with all the energy and flair of the first years of their marriage. As he swung her through the steps of the dance, he was sure she had never been so beautiful. Her cheeks were pink, the lamplight glowed on her hair, and her eyes glittered. Drogo decided that he wanted to remember every bit of this night. He would have to send Milo and Peony an extra-special wedding present for having this party that had brought his Primula back to him.
The music ended, and Drogo bowed to his lady. The orchestra leader played a few bars of a new tune and called "Take partners, take partners all around for Lady Chubb's Fancy!" Drogo smiled and took Primula's hand and led her to the very top of the dance. He had fallen in love with her watching her lead that dance at another party long ago, and it had been the first dance at their wedding. It would be the perfect crown to the evening to see her lead it again. The music started, and Primula proved to be in top form, weaving her way adroitly through the complicated figures of the dance.
When the dance ended with bow and curtsey, Drogo was slightly winded, and he and Primula left the dance floor. The orchestra leader announced "The Respectable Gentleman," and Milo and Peony stepped in to take the lead. Primula and Drogo watched the dancers for a while, admiring Peony's grace and Milo's skill. "They look so beautiful together," Primula said softly.
"I think it's getting a bit close in here," Drogo told her. "Let's go outside for a sniff of air. There won't be many warm evenings left in the year." Primula took his arm and they left the dance hall. They stopped by the playroom, attracted by the shrieks of excited children.
Cady had organized the older children into a game of "Sink The Black Ship." Several children had been tagged and sat on the floor waiting to trap others. Cady stood in the center of the room and called "Sink the black ship!" The remaining children raced across the room, trying to evade tags from Cady and from the children on the floor. As Primula and Drogo watched, Frodo skittered across the floor, twisting away from a seated cousin and ducking under Cady's tag to end safe at the other side of the room. He turned and saw his parents peeking in.
"Did you see that, Ma?" he cried. "I got through, Da! Look at me!" He waved briefly at them before Cady called "Sink the black ship!" again, and then he was off and running.
Primula and Drogo watched for a minute more, and then continued outside into the clear, cool evening. An enormous, golden harvest moon sailed in the sky above them and the moonlight sparkled on the rippling water of the Brandywine River. They walked along the riverbank for a while in silence. Every now and then, Primula would stoop to pick up a pretty pebble and put it in one of the pockets of her dress. Drogo found a few well-shaped stones and pitched them into the water.
Slowly, their meanderings brought them to the small dock where fishing and pleasure boats were kept. Primula's breath caught in her throat when she saw them. "Drogo," she said in a hushed voice, "the moonlight's so pretty on the water. Let's take one of the boats out for a while. Just like when we were courting, do you remember?"
Drogo remembered indeed those long-ago nights when Primula had taught him to row a boat. He had been terrified to step onto the dock, let alone get in the boat and try to propel it around the river, but Primula loved boating, and stars above, he would get in a boat for her. She had laughed at him a little for being so scared, but she had not meant it unkindly, and she had been a gentle and patient teacher. By the time they were married, Drogo had taken Primula for several romantic evenings on the privacy of the river. If she wished to go on the river again tonight, then she would have that wish.
On the dock, Primula selected a small pleasure dinghy with a blanket and pillows neatly folded under the stern seat. Drogo handed her into the boat and then climbed in himself. Primula loosed the mooring rope, and Drogo slid the oars into the oarlocks and pushed off from the dock.
"Gotcha!" Cady reached out with a long arm and swiped Frodo's shoulder. Frodo laughed and sat down on the floor, ready to catch other unwary runners.
Drogo hadn't rowed a boat in a while, but the feathering rhythm soon came back to him. For a while, the only sound was of the oars gently splashing. Primula sat in the stern, trailing her fingers in the water. She looked pensive, and Drogo supposed she was worn out from the excitement of the party. It had been a good idea to take her outside for some quiet time, he decided.
The orchestra ended "The Respectable Gentleman" with a flourish, and as Peony curtsied, Milo planted a kiss on her mouth. Peony eagerly returned the kiss. Milo caught a glimpse of the golden moon, and it suddenly occurred to him that what he and Peony needed just then was a private stroll in the moonlight.
Cady tagged one of his cousins, leaving a rangy young Burrows lad as the winner of the game. "Everybody up, we'll play again!" he called. "Carlo Burrows is It." The children scurried to the far end of the room, and Carlo stood in the middle. With a cry of "Sink the black ship!" the children were running again.
Drogo was absorbed in the fluid motions of rowing and began to sing an old love song. Primula watched him with large, solemn eyes. One of the things he loved about her was that she had never minded his inability to carry a tune.
"Sink the black ship!" Frodo squealed with laughter as he dodged and twisted, arriving safely at the other side of the room. Cady was tagged and sat down with a surprised "Oof!" Bilbo chuckled at the older children's antics and turned his attention back to his audience of mesmerized youngsters.
Milo and Peony could hear another dance beginning as they walked down the front path of Brandy Hall. They stopped under an apple tree, the last fruit still clinging to its branches, and continued where they had left off after their dance.
Drogo could feel his eyes closing. He was no longer young, and the efforts of dancing and rowing had tired him more than he would care to admit. The night was perfect, the moon was shining, Primula was so beautiful, and the rocking of the boat was hypnotic. Without quite meaning to, he slipped into a gentle doze.
Frodo and Violet Brandybuck charged Carlo Burrows together, then split at the last moment and peeled off in opposite directions. Carlo caught one of the flying streamers from Violet's dress, and she sat down, breathless. Only Frodo and one other child were left standing.
Primula sat in the stern of the dinghy, her head in her hands, trying to find the resolve to carry out her plan. Somewhere deep inside, a nagging voice was telling her it was wrong, it was wicked, that she would never be forgiven. She suppressed the voice, reminding herself sternly of the choice she had made, and all of her preparation. Frodo was learning to take care of himself and Drogo, and she had seen his birthday and Milo's coming of age. She had made the effort at the party to give Drogo a wonderful evening to remember her by, feasting and dancing in her best dress, and a stroll by the river in the moonlight. She fingered the stones in her pockets and hoped she had enough.
Soon she would be with Bluebell, the daughter she had known only with the peculiar intimacy of a mother. As she had watched Drogo put Bluebell into the ground, the unfairness of the situation had begun to eat away at her. It was as she had told Del; family must stick together. It would break her heart to leave Frodo behind, but after all, he had Drogo and Cady and all of the numerous aunts and uncles and cousins in Brandy Hall, and another set in Hobbiton. Bluebell should have someone, too, and Primula would be that someone.
"Sink the black ship!" Frodo and the other child charged. Carlo tagged the other child and came after Frodo. Frodo found himself trapped between Cady on the floor and Carlo, running to tag him. Gathering all his strength, he took a flying leap right over Cady's head to land safe at the far end of the room, winning the game.
With one smooth movement, Primula threw herself over the side of the boat, willing herself not to fight the shock of the cold water. The splash and the sudden rocking of the boat woke Drogo from his doze. He stared at the stern of the boat, suddenly empty, and he realized that Primula must have fallen overboard. Fighting down his panic, he leaned over the side of the boat.
"Primula!" he called. "Primula, where are you? Help! Someone, she's fallen in! Primula!" By the light of the moon, he thought he saw a little white hand sinking fast in the river. Drogo reached in, but he could not reach the hand. An idea struck him, and he grabbed an oar and lowered it into the water, fishing desperately for his wife. In his panic, he almost failed to notice the sudden heaviness as the blade of the oar caught Primula's dress. He called louder for help as he tried to lever Primula out of the water. The boat rocked beneath him wildly.
Peony suddenly stiffened in Milo's arms. "Did you hear something?" she asked. "Someone shouting."
Milo frowned. Now that he concentrated, he could just make out faint cries. "It's coming from the river," he said. "We should go and see what's wrong." Milo and Peony carefully made their way over the uneven ground toward the riverbank.
With a desperate effort, Drogo had managed to raise Primula to the surface. Supported by the oar, she bobbed gently face down. Drogo extended a trembling hand out over the side of the boat, stretching as far as he could, trying to grasp Primula's floating dress and haul her in. Terror surged through him and loosened his aging joints. His arm shot forward. Just as his grasping fingers closed around the sodden fabric of her dress, Drogo felt the boat kick and slide away as it capsized, dumping him into the cold Brandywine River. He made a desperate grab and caught Primula around the waist just as the water closed over his head.
A thrashing kick brought Drogo's head back above water, and one flailing arm hooked over the raised keel of the boat. Holding the boat with one arm and Primula with the other, Drogo screamed.
Milo's breath caught in his throat at what he saw. His Uncle Drogo was clinging precariously to a capsized boat, and the wet, limp bundle he held could only be Primula. He jerked Peony's hand and raced towards the dock. "Uncle Drogo!" he called. "Aunt Primula!"
"Help us!" Drogo cried, his voice carrying thin and clear across the water. "I can't hold the boat much longer!"
"We need help," Milo said. "Peony, go back to the Hall. Get my father, get Uncle Rory, get Saradoc, get somebody, please!" Without a word, Peony turned and ran back. Milo looked around and saw a coil of rope in one of the boats. He picked up an end and tossed it to Drogo. The heavy rope fell far short and landed in the water with a splash. Grimly, Milo pulled the end back and tossed it out again. Again it landed short. Milo stepped closer to the edge of the dock and made a third toss.
