Chapter 23: Paladin's Cross

A/N: Well, like I promised beforehand, it is Sunday today. And since it is also the 4th of July, I am hurriedly posting this before my many relatives arrive at our house to throw firecrackers at me and try to dash me in the kiddie pool. sigh Luckily for you however, I am sticking to my plan and therefore am giving you what you deserve. This chapter explains in depth why Paladin has been so overbearing. (The "Cross" in the title meaning misery.) Hope you enjoy.

Eglantine strode down the halls of Tookland, occupied with the bundles of cloth she had in her arms. When she arrived at the end of the hall, she peered into Paladin's study and widened her eyes at what she saw. Paladin stood behind his oaken desk, ripping apart the desk's drawers, flinging papers all over into giant piles onto the floor. Writing utensils went flying, objects he had kept for ages under precious care thrown carelessly off to the side. A pen that went sailing from his hand tipped over a clock he had on an end table near his desk. It hit the surface of the table with a ding and began to shake. Eglantine was taken aback. She thought for certain that her husband had finally gone mad.

"Ahem . . . Ah, dear." She started, venturing farther into the door. "Are you all right?"

"They're gone!" Paladin replied, outraged. The veins in his forehead struck out under red skin. His eyes were wide with fury, and he puffed again, "They're gone!" He tossed more things onto the floor.

"What's gone, Paladin?"

"The letters!" He ruffled through the bottom drawers. "They were in these drawers not two days ago!"

Eglantine strode over to Paladin, setting aside her bundles of sewing material, and leaned over the desk, peering at him. "What letters, Paladin?"

He seemed to ignore her, continuing his pillaging for awhile. "I bet he found them! He must have! Somehow . . . Eglantine," he began, standing bolt upright. His eyes searched the room wonderingly before turning to her. "Tell the coachman to prepare a carriage. Tell him that I'll be going to Bag End on the hour."

Eglantine shook her head, bonnet strings leaping about her neck. "Not today, Paladin. There is too much flooding on the roads. A carriage won't make it to Hobbiton until tomorrow morning, at the earliest. Messengers can't even get through going either way. You'll have to wait."

"No! No, I will not wait. I've tried to keep him from dishonoring the family. He knows I didn't want him to seeing that, that rogue! Scalawag!"

"Paladin, whatever are you talking about? What rogue? Who will dishonor the family?" Her hand suddenly flew to her head as the pieces of the puzzle snapped into place. She looked to her husband, now the one in outrage. "Paladin Took! You mean to tell me that all this time—"

She did not get to finish as Paladin threw his hands up in the air and retreated hastily out of the room. She growled and followed, marching behind him with enough contempt to bowl over any hobbit that dare tread in her path. Visiting hobbits peeked their heads out of their doors as Paladin stormed by, a beet red tone to his face, and then they ducked back into their rooms when they saw Eglantine roaring after him. "Paladin! You stop right there! All this time you led me to believe that our sweet Peregrine was just fretful and that it was a phase that would move on. You tell me to stop fussing over him and let him grow up. Well, was I ever wrong to believe you! I knew there was something wrong when Meriadoc stopped coming around here. That decent, honest Brandybuck—"

"Don't talk to me about Brandybucks, Eglantine! All of them are horse-wash! They aren't fit to walk on Shire soil! All that boat loving and carousing about gets them nowhere! Look what happens to them, Eglantine! Do you remember what happened to poor Drogo? He was dragged in—marrying Primula! Oh, she was a sweet lady. Remember her?" His jowls quivered with sarcasm. "I warned him not to marry her! I knew something bad would happen! I was only a lad when he got married! Drownded! They found him washed up on the Brandywine, not long after! I had to drink alone for years. I couldn't even look at a nice mug of brew without thinking of him. And Saradoc! What did he do about it, eh? Not much, by my scale. Young Frodo should have never stayed with them, ever! They're all fools! That Saradoc is a fool! That Meriadoc is a fool! And I'll be hanged before I see my son affiliating with one! Brandybucks! Phah! I've dealt with them long enough! My own sister, my own flesh and blood! What did she see in Saradoc? What did she see? That's why I didn't attend their wedding! Their fools! All of them! Trash under my boots!" He inhaled when he paused and continued with a shaking and enraged sob in his voice. "And now my own son has betrayed my wishes! I'm losing all that I have left to them!"

He snatched his coat roughly from the coat rack and threw open the round front door, apathetic that it nearly battered a dent in the wall where it hit. He stormed his way over to the stables and fetched a footman to ready his carriage. Eglantine halted at the doorway and leaned on it, sighing. It had taken years for Paladin to finally accept Drogo's death. She could see now that his contempt for the Brandybucks had not eased along with it. The carriage stopped at the end of the path, and Paladin stepped in as the horses were prepared. Eglantine pushed at her bonnet until her curled hair was loose and strode up to the carriage. When she stopped near the carriage's door, she stood on her tiptoes and peered at Paladin. He turned his face away from her, pretending to have difficulties with a pair of gloves. "Paladin, look at me." Her voice had grown much calmer again, and she spoke gently, but firmly. He sighed and glanced back over at her, meeting her gaze. "You may not like him, Paladin. But Saradoc was once your friend and he is your family, whether you have willed it or no. Please, not for me or for you, but for Pippin, please do not take your anger out on our son." She shook her head, regretfully. "He is only trying to follow his own heart."

Paladin wrung his gloves in his hands. When he spoke, it was in defeat, not consent. "All right, Eglantine." His eyes alighted again, however, with the same ire that had plagued them earlier. "But those Brandybucks will know my fury by the time I'm through with them." He waved to the coachman, and the carriage took off, Paladin only looking forward to the path.

Eglantine crossed her arms, looking after them in the afternoon sunlight, brown eyes narrowed. She puffed resolutely and brushed at her cottony dress. "I'm going after him."

Berilac wrapped the nearly sodden wool blanket tighter around him, shivering. His hair was just beginning to dry from the river's water, and he speculated just how much he never wanted to see water again. Unfortunately, that was all he did see, since the kitchen's floor was indeed, as Pippin put it, flooded. Merry was stooped over the floor, dragging countless rags through the water and ringing them out in a bucket he had found. Pippin helped him, clearing out the food that was ruined by the water. Luckily, it had only invaded the floor of the pantry, which left another three shelves filled with food. Berilac sighed as he looked at the young Took, now clad in trousers and one of Merry's shirts. He had been a fool, and he admitted it with shame. He not only endangered his own life, but he dragged Pippin into his predicament as well.

If he ever saw a boat again, it would be too soon.

Merry had at least regained some calm after experiencing that trauma. After making sure they had scraped the danger with no serious injuries, he had led them back to Bridgewater and told them to change into dry clothes while he went about to seeing how he could banish the water from the floor. Berilac curled himself farther into the blanket, perched upon a kitchen chair. He had decided to warm up a little before helping Merry clear up the slosh.

They all stood up when the sounds of knocking echoed down the hallway and into the kitchen. Berilac motioned them to stay there and meandered to the front door. He bravely inhaled before swinging open the door. He came face to face with the messenger he had sent out not two days ago.

"Mr. Berilac, sir," the messenger began, holding out an envelope in his gloved hand, "I couldn't deliver the message, sir. There was too much flooding to the east of Hobbiton. All roads are blocked for a few days until the Shirriffs can clear some of it. I'm quite sorry, sir."

Berilac took the envelope, noting that it was indeed his message to Frodo, and grimaced. "Are you certain you can't deliver it today or tomorrow?"

"I've tried every path that will take me into Hobbiton. Everything's closed. Even the mail won't be out for another three days, the Shirriffs are saying."

With a sigh, Berilac shoved the letter into his pocket. "All right, then. Meet me back here in three days. We can try again then." He waved the messenger good-bye and closed the door. Glancing down the hallway, he saw Merry and Pippin standing at the entrance to the kitchen, peering at him. He pulled out the letter and thrust it into the air, a frown evident on his face. "We have got some large problems, friends."