Note to Readers:

Thanks for the comments!

While it might seem "spooky" that Pippin insisted Ferdi stay behind at the Smials, it is not odd at all, and there was no intention to imply foreknowledge on the Thain's part. Remember, Ferdi had not missed a day *in years* of faithfully visiting his father at late supper, and Pippin knew this and respected it.

Thanks, Lydia, for catching that typo! I have corrected it.

As I mentioned, I have written well ahead in both "Flames" and "Merlin" so that you ought to be able to enjoy daily updates, as long as everything goes well. Please keep reviewing, it keeps my spirits up (nearly killed off a major OC last week in a fit of depression, how horrid!) and makes the Muse more tractable.

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

***

40. Sons

The Thain found Ferdibrand beside his father's bed, where they had moved the old hobbit when the healer had determined that there was nothing to be done.

He laid a hand on the grieving son's shoulder and stood for a long time before he spoke. 'Ferdi?' he said at last. 'They told me when we rode in. I'm sorry.'

Ferdi nodded and said softly, 'I would not have been here, but for you insisting I stay.' The hand tightened on his shoulder, then released its grip.

'I sent a quick post rider to tell Rosemary,' Pippin said. 'He'll reach her by dawn, and then it's a full day for them to come from Woody End. Would you like to have the burial with the dawning of the next day?'

'Aye,' Ferdi whispered. 'That would be fine.'

Pippin nodded, though the other did not see it, and said, 'I will make the arrangements.'

***

Though he'd gone to bed in the wee hours, the Thain arose early as was his wont, working steadily through the morning hours with Reginard. Several times he found himself missing Ferdibrand.

'I hadn't realised how much help his memory is,' he said at one point. 'I'd like him to repeat what that last farmer said. I have a general idea, but Ferdi would give it back to me word-for-word.'

'I'll try to take better notes,' Reginard said, suppressing a yawn. He was tired after the long ride, but if Pippin could be hard at it the next day, who was he to slough his duties?

Just after late supper the Bolgers arrived, having pushed hard to make the two-day trip in one long day. The Thain was on hand to greet them, though he turned his head away several times to cough as they were talking. 'Naught but a cold,' he said hoarsely, in response to Rosemary's concern, then turned the subject. 'All is ready for the burial at dawn, and we'll have the memorial at the noontide feast.'

'Good,' Hally said. 'I figure we might as well stay over, with the tournament only a week away and all.'

'We've room in the Smials,' Pippin said. 'See the steward. No need to tent it for a week.'

'Thank you,' Hally answered, dipping his head. He found the new Thain a pleasant enough fellow, no matter what the talk was.

Rosemary watched through the night by Ferdi's side, at their father's bedside. The two quietly talked over old times as the slow hours passed, but finally cousin Tansy tapped at the door. 'It's nearly dawn,' she said. 'It is time to take your leave.'

'Thank you, Tansy,' Ferdi said, and Rosemary nodded without speaking. She rose, kissed the cold cheek, whispered, 'Good night, Father. May all your dreams be of peace.'

Ferdi repeated the blessing, and then Tansy folded back the blanket that had made it look as if the old hobbit were merely asleep, revealing the white shroud beneath. Together, brother and sister lifted the shroud to cover their father's face, and then Ferdi held Rosemary while she wept and silent hobbits lifted the body to bear it away.

They fell in behind, following the body out of the Smials, where a crowd of Tooks and a number of Bolgers waited. They walked singing to the burial ground, committed Ferdinand to his resting place, sang another song. The Thain spoke the necessary words, and then the crowd dispersed, some singing their way back to the Smials, others going on to necessary tasks.

Ferdi, Rosemary and her family, and the Thain remained. Ferdi noticed that Pippin's breath was rasping as he expressed his condolences to the bereaved, and he made a mental note to mention the fact to Reginard, in case the steward had been kept too busy to notice. Diamond, too, was seeing to the details of the memorial feast, and might not have spent much time in her husband's company lately, what with Pippin going late to bed and rising before the dawn these past two nights.

Being busy with Rosemary and the details of their father's memorial, Ferdi didn't get a chance to talk to either until nearly teatime, only to find that Diamond had retired with a headache, her privacy fiercely guarded by Sandy, and the Thain had accompanied Reginard to tea in Tuckborough.

Frustrated, he sought out Healer Woodruff. 'Pip's riding for a fall,' he said. 'You've got to get him down off that pony before it throws him and tramples him underfoot.'

'Speak plainly, Ferdi,' she said. 'I'm tired this day, and not up to solving riddles.'

'He's off in Tuckborough with Regi at the moment,' Ferdi said, 'but you watch for him, pounce upon him when he gets back, and take a listen to his breathing. I'm no healer, and I even noticed it.'

Later Woodruff sought him out. 'Many thanks, Ferdi,' the healer told him. 'Your riddle came in good time, I think. We've tied the pony down sufficiently, I hope.'

'Pip in bed?' Ferdi asked.

'O aye,' Woodruff said grimly. 'And Diamond, with her headache, is in no humour to listen to his wheedling and let him up any time soon. He's stuck, he is, but good.'

'Good,' Ferdi said. 'It's about time.'

***

Later, he found his steps turning towards old Ferdinand's room. He entered, to find all much as it had been, his father's pipe on the mantle, the knitted blanket neatly folded on Ferdinand's chair as if waiting for him to be moved there from his bed for the day. He took the pipe from the mantle and sank down in his customary place, cradling the pipe in his hands. When he closed his eyes, he could smell the lingering richness of pipeweed smoke, could imagine the crackle of the little fire on the hearth, keeping the little kettle warm, could even imagine that he and his father were sitting in one of their comfortable silences... until a small voice broke into his thoughts.

'Is this your da's room?' Ferdi opened his eyes. As he expected, it was the son of the Thain.

'What are you doing out of bed?' he asked.

The little lad shrugged. 'They're all too busy to notice,' he said. 'It's all a-bustle right now, healers shouting for things and people running in and out.'

This news caught Ferdi in the pit of his stomach, but he managed to say calmly enough, 'And so no one's watching out for you?'

'No,' the lad said.

'Has anyone fed you since tea?'

'No,' little Faramir repeated.

'Sit down here a moment,' Ferdi said. 'Will you stay put if I tell you?'

'I know how to follow orders,' Faramir said.

'Do that,' Ferdi said. 'I'll be right back.'

He returned soon with bowls of stew from the pot the old aunties kept warm in the depths of the Smials, and crusty bread to go with it. He sat Faramir down in Ferdinand's old chair and the two fell to their meal without much to say.

Finally, Faramir showed his empty bowl, and Ferdi nodded gravely. 'Job well done.' He collected the bowls and laid them by the hearth, then he and Faramir sat regarding each other. The lad broke the silence.

'What's it like to die?'

Ferdi blinked. 'Well,' he said slowly, 'I've never died, myself, mind...'

Faramir nodded encouragingly, and Ferdi went on, '...but I've heard tell that you go beyond the Sundering Seas, to a land where there's no hurt or sorrow, and you walk in peace, all griefs forgotten.'

'That doesn't sound so bad,' the lad mused. 'Why are folk so frightened of death, then?'

'Because once you die, there's no going back,' Ferdi said.

'So you're stuck?'

'Aye,' Ferdi answered. They sat in silence awhile longer.

'There's no hurt?' the lad asked at last.

'Aye, and all that was ever taken away is restored to you,' Ferdi answered.

Faramir thought this over. 'So...' he said, still thinking, 'So your da's got his arms and legs back? The ones that were burned away in the fire?' Ferdi nodded. 'And he's got... he's got his brother back, what the fire took away?'

'How did you know about that?' Ferdi asked.

The lad shrugged again. 'People talk,' he said simply. Ferdi nodded. He knew how people talked.

'And my da will have his breath back?' Faramir continued. 'And he'll be able to run, and laugh until he has to hold his tummy, and chase little hobbits and catch them and throw them in the air and catch them again?'

Not trusting his voice, Ferdi only nodded. Faramir considered a moment more.

'That's not so bad then,' he said softly. 'I was afraid it would be all cold, and dark, and lonely, but... I suppose it's not so bad after all.'

The two sons sat quietly for a long time, thinking of their fathers, until the son of the Thain fell asleep, and Ferdinand's son bore him gently to the Thain's quarters, where things had quieted down, and the Thain slept, propped with pillows, healer on watch by the bedside, Diamond dosed to drowsiness and put back to bed to nurse her headache.

No one had missed Faramir or even noticed that he'd crept from his bed. The healer's eyes widened at the sight of Ferdibrand and his burden, but the head of the Thain's escort merely jerked his head towards the lad's room. Woodruff nodded, and Ferdi took the lad to his bed, smoothing the covers over him as gently as his own father might do.

'Good night, lad,' he said softly.

Faramir stirred in his sleep and smiled. 'Night, Da,' he murmured. 'Take me fishing tomorrow?'

'Well,' Ferdi whispered, 'I'll be a bit busy on the morrow, but I'll put Ferdi on it. I'm sure he'll take you if I ask him nicely.'

'Will you?' Faramir asked, still in his pleasant dream.

'You can count on me,' Ferdi whispered, smoothing back a stray curl. 'Sleep now.' He watched the lad's breathing become deep and even, and then stole from the room.