Note to Readers:

I am on vacation for a week, and while I have written well ahead in both "Merlin" and "Flames", I might not be able to post daily again until after next weekend (say, the 7th of July). However, if I am able to sneak online at all, I will keep posting chapters... Hey, you all keep reviewing, okay? Wouldn't want you to get out of the habit... Those lovely reviews, they keep the Muse happy, along with her pina coladas, and she keeps throwing ideas at me, so it works out for everyone.

I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.

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33. Pride

Life continued as before. No one talked to Ferdi openly save his own father, and Old Tom, who kept "forgetting", though many oblique remarks were directed from one nearby Took to another, for his benefit. He ate his meals alone, in silence, rode his ponies, trained little Penny, fletched arrows, and spent much more time in his father's company than he ever had before, talking, listening, learning.

Dapple was fit enough to run in the next year's pony races, though Ferdi did not quite have the nerve to force his way into the races the way he had into the tournament. Dapple was growing older, anyhow, and had earned her right to graze in peace whilst the other ponies raced around the course. Ferdi noted, however, that her head jerked up each time the horn blew to announce another heat, and she took herself for a gallop around the edge of the field at one point, so she had her own little race after all.

Ferdi shadowed Hally in the tournament, the month after the pony races, winning once again, though it was Hally who took the purse. Tolly bowed to Hally with a wink to the real winner, and the crowd cheered lustily as Hally waved an arm, Ferdi standing by his side.

Hally turned the purse over to Ferdi that night as they ate their supper, and Ferdi weighed the purse in his hand. 'You know,' he said, 'I might do more than break even this year.'

'Your arrows sold well,' Hally agreed. 'Might start putting some money away towards a rainy day.'

'You might even get married some day,' Rosemary put in.

Ferdi laughed. 'Who'd have me?' he asked.

'Any number of lasses down to Woody End,' Hally remarked. 'The Fox is still well thought-of there, after all.'

'Ah,' Ferdi said. 'Now all we have to do is convince Da to move there.' He sighed. 'Just think, next year at this time, Pip will be married to his love, and mine is nowhere in sight.' He thought again of Pimpernel, off in Bridgefields, and firmly pushed the longing away. She was better off married to a rich Bolger, anyhow.

The days kept on slipping by, though Ferdi felt at times as if he were walking in place, moving neither forwards nor back. He spent another quiet Yule with old Ferdinand, not talking about hopes for the next year, for he had none, really, but instead talking over old times. His father told many stories about his uncle Ferdibrand, now only a dim memory to Ferdi.

Shocking news came from Buckland that Brandy Hall's stables had burned to the ground, taking half the Hall's ponies with it. Several hobbits had died, and many more had breathed smoke or suffered burns, Pippin and Merry among them. Though Pippin was never mentioned by name amongst the Tooks, all knew when he was the subject of conversation. It seemed he had managed to cheat Death once again, though he had been very ill, it was reported. The Thain did not travel to his son's bedside.

Time came for the wedding, and speculation was rife amongst the Tooks: would the Thain attend? ...or stay away? There had been no communication between Paladin and his son for nearly two years now, since the Thain's botched attempt to redirect the handfasting after the pattern of his own choosing.

On a fair evening in the middle of summer, Ferdi sat in the dark depths of the Smials with his father.

'Word is the Thain rode out this morning,' old Ferdinand commented in between bites of fresh berries and cream.

'O aye,' Ferdi said, 'seems he's been invited to a wedding.'

'I'm surprised he went,' Ferdinand said.

'Seems he didn't have much choice in the matter,' Ferdi answered with the ghost of a grin. 'Seems as if Mistress Eglantine put her foot down.'

Old Ferdinand laughed heartily, then sobered. 'I've always been a little afraid of her,' he admitted.

'You and all the rest of the Tooks,' Ferdi said. 'Paladin met his match when he married her.'

'Too bad she doesn't take more of a hand,' Ferdinand said softly. 'I cannot believe she'd stand by while you were shunned.'

'A river can wear down even the strongest rock,' Ferdi answered. 'This wedding... it's just one thing, one day, she can rule over her husband in this little instance. But me now...' he stirred the berries gently, lifted another spoonful to his father's lips. 'She'd have to fight him every day, as long as I stay.'

'I'm sorry, my boy,' Ferdinand said.

Ferdi looked to him with a smile. 'It's all right, Da,' he answered. 'I know why you won't move in with Rosemary and Hally. You won't be a burden on them, and it does not bother you a bit to burden the Tooks of the Smials.' He was rewarded by his father's grin. 'I thought so.'

He put the bowl of berries down, to lift a mug of tea for his father to sip. 'And besides,' he said, 'so long as I stay, I can act as the Thain's conscience.' His father raised an eyebrow, and he continued. 'Every time he sees me, he is reminded that he has done an injustice. Were I to leave, to go to Woody End, he could live on, pretending that naught had changed, that Pip would come back someday, and that I never existed.'

'Ah, Ferdi,' his father began.

'I'm not bitter,' Ferdi said, 'Believe you me, Da, I feel sorry for the old hobbit. I don't expect him to change, I don't expect any apologies from him, but if I'm here to remind him of the consequences of his decisions, then perhaps it'll prevent the shunning of some other undeserving soul, someday.'

'Ferdi...' his father said again, then, 'I'm proud of you, Son.'

Ferdi swallowed hard, hearing the words he'd always longed to hear. All his life he'd done his best, aimed his highest, and now, in disgrace, the words had a poignant sweetness. He smiled, and said, 'Have some more berries, before the cream sours...'