Notes to Readers:
The co-author on this chapter is, of course, Jodancingtree. She has added lots
of charming touches, thanks, Jo!
Thank you for the comments! Reviews are very motivating and give me insights
into the stories that make me dig deeper in writing, which I probably wouldn't
do were I the only one reading these stories... (I am sending them on to Jo,
and she thanks you as well.) And thank you for your patience as well! We are
getting there—I think there are two chapters to go after this one. I'll let you
know what Jo says when she sends me Chapter 26.
Bookworm, o good, I'm glad it all sounded plausible. Y'know, after seeing so
many "cover-ups" blow up in the news, when a simple apology might have got the
person off the hook in the first place, I think Pip made a smart choice too.
Aemilia Rose, you're welcome! Be sure to hug Jo, too, for some of the most
heart-tugging moments are of her workmanship.
Xena, it did take awhile to work out the restitution, but a little arm-twisting
goes a long way... O my, the gossip! I think Jo is working on showing some of
that in the chapter she's working on today, as a matter of fact. The scene with
Farry and Pippin even brought tears to my eyes...
Hai, everyone has been growing through this. Whew. And you're right, there isn't
much more to go. How I hate for a story to end! Ah well, I suppose I can always
re-read it.
Ff.net and other factors permitting, expect to see the next chapter two days
from this posting. If you cannot access ff.net, try www.storiesofarda.com. You can leave
reviews there, as well (thanks SoA reviewers! See replies at SoA as well), and
there is a "reply" feature where an author can reply to a review
right there rather than within the text of the story. I have also discovered
the "author alert" feature. Amazing place, that SoA.
The first chapter of the sequel to "The Rebel" will be posted on the morrow, if
all goes well. It is called "A Small and Passing Thing".
Enough admin notes. Let's get to the story.
***
Chapter 24. Truth, and Trust
'Will you go back with me to Buckland, Pip?'
It was the end, the very end, of the longest day Pippin could remember. Farry
was asleep on the little truckle bed in Hally and Rosemary's room, and Pippin
and Merry sat before the fire, having a nightcap before they themselves turned
in. He had been reluctant to take the master bedroom, now Farry was out of
danger, but Rosemary was a Took when all was said and done, and she knew what was
due the Thain of the Shire, whether the Thain wanted it or not.
He was groggy with weariness and reaction from all the emotion of the day.
'No,' he said, after a pause. He'd had business in Buckland, but at the moment
he couldn't remember what it had been. Farry's disappearance and everything
that had followed had driven it from his mind, and he shrugged it away as
something of no consequence. 'You finish it up, whatever it was,' he told
Merry. 'Can you do that for me, cousin? I need to be getting home.'
'Of course. Leave it to me; I'll see everything's buttoned up neatly, and fair
to Buckland and Tookland alike. You can trust me for that.'
'I know I can.' Pippin smiled at him, leaning his head against the high back of
his chair. 'It all ended better than we'd any reason to hope, didn't it? And I
needn't start out on a long ride to Gondor, and end by trying to explain to
Aragorn why I've a brand on my cheek.'
Merry didn't laugh. 'You wouldn't have gone alone, Peregrin. They'd have been
looking for a new Master of Buckland, as well as swearing in a new Thain.' He
stretched out his hand, and Pippin took it wordlessly in a grip that pressed
Merry's signet ring painfully into his flesh.
'Time for sleep,' Merry said at last. 'You Tooks can laze about at Woody End as
long as you like, but I want to make an early start back to Buckland.'
He had been planning to ride home alone the next morning, but Pippin would have
none of it. 'For all this was a false alarm, there might still be ruffians
about, Merry. Take Regi and Isenard with you at the very least.'
Merry grinned. 'An escort, in fact, just like the Thain.' Pippin reddened,
embarrassed, but shook his head.
'The Thain rides with an escort when he goes a mile down the road to inspect a
new digging; there's no sense to it, only tradition! You've got half a day's
journey ahead of you, and there are some lonely stretches. I'll not see you go
alone, Merry, even if I have to go back with you myself.'
Pippin was so evidently in earnest that Merry forbore to tease him further,
agreeing to ride in company at least as far as the Ferry landing.
'They could ride all the way to the Hall, stay the night, and still be back
before we leave Woody End,' Pippin said, his tone brooking no contradiction.
'I'd like for Farry to rest two or three days and recover his strength. We'll
wait for Regi and Isenard to get back before we start for Tuckborough.'
That put a different light on things for Merry – two or three days of rest and
good food for Pippin as well as his son. Pippin was skilled at hiding his
debility from worried relatives, but Merry could read exhaustion in his
cousin's eyes. 'Very well,' he said with a show of reluctance. 'They shall
accompany me to the Hall, and they'd better stay over and ride back the next
day.'
Merry did not get the early start he'd planned on, however. Rosemary was up
betimes frying sausages, which her girls quickly wrapped in golden griddlecakes
and whisked to the table, piping hot. Honey-baked apples steamed under a pewter
cover in the middle of the table, and sunny fried eggs followed the sausage
griddlecakes in quick succession. It would be churlish to refuse the meal, and
Merry swallowed his irritation and sat down to eat a hot breakfast at the table
instead of a wedge of cheese and an apple out of his saddlebag. In any event,
he reflected, the weather was mild. They'd be able to use the Ferry instead of
riding the long way round to the Bridge, and he'd still be home soon after
midday.
Pippin fixed him with a stern eye. 'You ought to set yourself the same standard
you'd set for me,' he said. 'Were I riding back to Buckland with you, you'd
stop at every inn for a hot meal by the fire.'
'What's good for the Thain is good for the Master!' Ferdi quipped, and laughed
at Merry's sour face. 'We're none of us getting any younger, cousin. What need
to rush back to the wilds of Buckland? Have one more civilised meal, at least.'
'This, from one who has been known to sleep in the hollow of a log or the fork
of a tree,' Merry remarked dryly. Rosemary set a ramekin of potatoes scalloped
with green onions and thick cream in front of him, and his expression changed
with the first bite. 'Hmmm,' he sighed. 'I wonder if I could watch over
Buckland from the Marish. So much more convenient to pop in for dinner.'
'And very welcome you would be,' Rosemary twinkled at him. 'I am glad to see my
efforts will not go to waste!'
'More likely to go to waist,' Merry muttered, patting his waistcoat. He eyed
the Thain, fiddling with his fork on the other side of the table. 'Eat up,
Pippin!'
'I'm on my seconds already,' Pippin protested, grimacing at his well-filled
plate. Off his feed again, Merry realised with a stab of alarm.
'No you're not!' Rosemary, Ferdi and Robin said with one voice, and Merry
laughed.
'I'm glad you're going back with him, Ferdi. You're to let Diamond know if he
starts fibbing about how much he's eating, mind!'
'Save us!' Pippin said, rolling his eyes. 'I'm eating!' Grimly he attacked the
fine fare, and Merry relaxed to see him clear his plate and accept seconds in
truth this time. Finally Pippin pushed his plate back with a sigh. 'Sure you
wouldn't rather to go work for Merry, Ferdi?' he said.
'Hah! And miss the chance to badger you six times a day?' Ferdi said. 'I live
for mealtimes!' He rubbed his hands together, staring balefully at Pippin under
his brows, but then he caught Farry's anxious glance and winked. The lad smiled
and relaxed.
'In all honesty, I would rest easier, hearing a dispute, if I had a
truth-sifter at hand,' Merry said slowly. He looked at Robin. 'Are you free to
come and work for me?'
'Not for a few years, yet,' Hally said. 'He's only a tween.'
'Ah, I'd hoped he just looked young for his age,' Merry said. 'I'm serious,
though; I believe we need a truth-sifter in Buckland. I don't suppose you'd
care to spare your wife?'
'No, I might starve to death,' Hally said. 'She's the best cook in the Shire,
you know.'
'How about if your family moved to Buckland until Robin grew up?' Merry
persisted.
'You jest,' Hally said flatly. 'But we might manage an occasional visit, if
you'd like Rosemary or Robin to sit in on your hearings.'
'Can I bring the hearings to you, if they cannot wait for your visits?' Merry
asked.
Pippin was grinning, shaking his head. 'I don't believe my ears,' he said.
'If they cannot wait,' Hally said, after a moment's consideration. 'It would be
good to assure the hobbits of the Marish a fair hearing.'
'And the hobbits of Buckland as well,' Merry said. 'I will pay proper
compensation for Rosemary's time, and Robin's.'
'My wife and son might earn more than I do,' Hally said thoughtfully. 'Perhaps
I can retire and go fishing.'
'Not on your life,' Rosemary said. 'Your fingers would fall off, they would,
were you to stop your carving. I know you too well.'
'Indeed you do,' Hally said, but he didn't sound at all bothered.
Breakfast ended at last, and Merry set off with Reginard and Isenard. The rest of the Tooks stayed four days
longer at the cottage, until Faramir was running about with the other children
at playtime, and pitching in with his share of the chores, as from force of
habit. Pippin watched, bemused, as Farry carried wood and water, cheerfully,
without complaint. He even went out to the cow byre one evening, at Farry's
insistence, to admire his son's skill at milking.
'I told him he needn't do any chores, now we know who he is,' Hally told the
Thain in some chagrin. 'But he said he likes it, and he seemed so downcast,
being told to stop, I didn't have the heart --'
Pippin chuckled. 'It's a harmless amusement, isn't it? Let him work, Hally; far
better for him than some of the diversions he's found for himself, the last few
years.' He was thoughtful after that, however. He had done chores as a lad
himself, of course; his father had not become Thain till Pippin was nearly
grown. He hadn't always enjoyed his work, and Paladin had been an exacting
taskmaster, but looking back on it, he thought it had done him good. Faramir
would be the better for it if he had chores to do, but as the son of the Thain,
that was out of the question. Until he was of an age to start helping his
father in administering the Tookland, there was no task that would not be
considered beneath his station. Condemned to idleness, Pippin thought,
and sighed.
Regi and Isenard returned from Buckland, but Rosemary decreed one more night of
warmth and rest for Faramir before he should brave the elements. It made for
interesting sleeping arrangements. The Thain and his son remained in Hally and
Rosemary's bedroom, Hally slept with the boys, Rosemary with the girls;
Reginard had the extra bed in the kitchen corner, Ferdi curled himself before
the hearth and the rest of the Tooks shared the hayloft. Ferdi felt sorry for
the cows, having to put up with Isenard's snores.
Their last night in Woody End, Ferdi wakened in the night, not sure what had
disturbed his sleep. He listened to the crackle of the dying fire, the soft
susurrus from the corner where Reginard slept, a child's sleepy murmur from the
next room. He sat up and looked around the room, dimly lit by the watchlamp in
the window. There was a figure sitting hunched at the table, and after a moment
he realized it was his sister, a shawl thrown over her head and shoulders, her
head on her arms.
He rose silently and stole to her side on hunter's feet. Another barely audible
sob – that was what had wakened him – followed by a sniff. He laid his hand
lightly on Rosemary's shoulder, not wanting to startle her, but she looked up
sharply. 'What?' she whispered, scrubbing at her face with her hands. 'O Ferdi,
did you need somewhat?'
He sat down with his arm around her. 'I need to know why my sister is weeping
in the watches of the night.'
'It's naught,' she said, wiping away the last of the tears.
'Naught? My oh-so-sensible sister weeping over naught? I don't believe it, dear one.'
This brought another flood of silent tears, and she struggled vainly to wipe
them away as quickly as they came. 'What is it?' he pressed her gently. 'Has
the Thain changed his mind, then?'
'Ferdi! Bite your tongue!'
He smiled wryly. 'It has been known to happen.'
'What do you mean?' In her shock, she spoke louder than she intended, and
Reginard turned restlessly on his bed. They waited, scarcely breathing, until
he settled into deeper slumber.
'As long I've known him, Pip's been as changeable as the weather,' Ferdibrand
said in a lower voice.
'You do not trust him even now,' Rosemary said slowly. 'Not even after he bound
himself by solemn oath?'
'I do not know how to trust him,' Ferdi said, his voice sad.
'If you think on it, Ferdi, this whole trouble began with your lack of trust,'
Rosemary said. 'Have you ever given him a chance, since he came back to the
Tookland, since he became Thain?'
'I don't know what you mean.' Ferdi was puzzled. 'Very well, this whole thing
was my fault; I handled it badly indeed, but what does it have to do with
trust?'
'You didn't trust the Thain to do right by his son. That's the truth of it.'
Ferdibrand sat stunned. 'I--' he said, then shook his head. 'No--'
'You cannot lie to me,' Rosemary whispered fiercely. 'You thought you knew
better! Perhaps you even thought that you loved Farry better than his own
father did.'
Ferdi shook his head again, but he knew his voice would betray him should he
speak.
'And did he?' she continued implacably.
'Did he what?'
'Did he do right by Faramir? Didn't he do exactly what he should? He made
restitution, he humbled himself before you all, he admitted his wrong, he
apologised. And he apologised to Farry as well, and made him the best promise
he could under the circumstances.'
Ferdi was silent, and she went on. 'Pip, changeable? Did you not hear his son's
testimony? He never makes a promise he doesn't keep – so says Faramir, who
ought to know.'
'He has changed, then,' Ferdi said wryly, and Rosemary took a deep
breath, ready to launch more words in her perturbation. He kneaded her shoulder
with his hand. 'Rosie,' he said, 'very well, I concede the point. This whole
situation has been my fault from the beginning.'
She relaxed. 'Well, perhaps not from the beginning,' she admitted. 'Our
illustrious cousin has made mistakes, and his son was the one who ran away; you
did not drive him from his home, nor entice him to leave.'
'Very well, it has been my fault since the middle,' Ferdi said, a gleam in his
eye daring her to contradict him.
'Be serious!' Rosemary hissed.
'I am always serious,' Ferdi returned, and she snorted softly. 'Why were you
crying, then?'
She was taken aback, and he realised she had been distracting him from that
topic with her talk about Pippin and Farry.
'What is it, Rosie?'
'Naught,' she said again, but he would not let it go.
'It is not naught,' he countered. 'Who suffers from lack of trust now? Rosie,
we've been everything to each other, always. Do not shut me out now!' He laid
his hand atop hers where it lay on the table, twining his fingers through hers.
They'd had no one else, after the tragedy of their early years, until at last
they'd found their mates and begun families of their own. But they had always
had each other.
She gulped and bowed her head on her arms again. There were tears falling upon
his hand, and he rubbed her back gently with the other hand.
'What is it, Rosie? Do not say "naught"; I know truth when I hear it, you
know.'
She raised her head, but she would not look at him. 'We've always trusted one
another, Ferdi. There was no one else
we could trust, after Mother died.' Ferdi nodded, his hand making comforting
circles on her back, his fingers still interlaced with hers on the table.
'I – I betrayed you, Ferdi,' she said brokenly. 'I thought-'
'You thought me mad,' Ferdi said matter-of-factly. 'So did Hally.'
'Oh – Hally!' she said dismissively. 'But how could I think such a thing?
Ferdi, I'm so sorry!'
'You watched our mother descend into madness,' Ferdi said.
'I thought I was seeing it again. All over again, like a bad dream.' She
shivered. 'Ferdi, do you remember –'
'I remember the stables burning and Uncle Ferdi running back in. And part of
the roof falling in flames and Da going in after him...' He'd begun to tremble.
'I remember Mum holding me so tight her nails drew blood, and the screams, the
awful screams...'
'That was the beginning,' Rosemary said. 'But do you remember her death?'
Ferdi thought back, but all he could see in his mind's eye was flames, all he
could hear was screams – trapped ponies and hobbits, and at the last his
mother's sobs. He shook his head. 'No. I don't remember that.'
'She took you,' Rosemary said softly. 'Don't you remember? She took you from
the fire.'
'I only remember the flames,' he said, 'as if they danced before my eyes.'
'She took you to the Water that ran by the farm, and she threw you in,'
Rosemary said. 'She was shrieking that she had to save you from the flames, so
she threw you in the river. You nearly drowned!'
Ferdi shook his head. 'Why don't I remember?'
'Then she ran for me,' Rosemary continued, her voice shaking. 'She grabbed me
by the arm and started dragging me to the Water, but I was older than you; I fought
with everything I had.' She took a shuddering breath. 'The neighbours who had
come to help fight the fire stopped her before she could throw me into the
Water, but they couldn't stop her throwing herself in...'
'Why didn't I drown?' Ferdi asked. He'd never heard this story before, had only
known his mother had died mad and no one ever spoke of her afterwards.
'A Brandybuck was passing by on the Road going to Bywater. He saw you thrashing
around in the Water and he jumped in and pulled you out.' She smiled wanly.
'Brandybucks can swim, you know,' she said.
He grinned at her tone, in spite of himself. 'Yes,' he said.
'She wanted to save you, but she nearly drowned you,' Rosemary said, 'and you were trying to save Farry...'
'O Rose,' Ferdi said softly. It was not her lack of faith in him that grieved
his heart, but the pain his actions had caused her. His sister, who had been
everything to him, all the years of his growing-up. 'Forgive me, Rosie.'
'Forgive you!' she gasped.
'Aye,' he said softly. He wrapped his arms around her, and she buried her face
against his shoulder and wept. He held her until she was finished crying, and
if she felt his tears wetting her hair, where his head leaned against hers, she
never told another soul.
