Shirelings
Chapter 9
Frodo's Last Great Birthday Party
Samwise Gamgee paused a moment in front of the door, hesitant to interrupt his master in the middle of what could possibly be important business. But he could hear the band start up outside and knew it was high time the host come out to greet his guests. People talked about Mr. Frodo enough as it was; what would they say if he stayed inside his house for his entire party?
No, that simply wouldn't do. Sam nodded to himself, as if responding to his own internal dialogue, and then knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" came Frodo's muffled voice from inside the room.
"It's Sam, sir," said Sam weakly. "Mr. Merry says almost everyone has arrived and he's wondering when you'll be coming out to join them."
At this Frodo opened the door and poked his head out.
"Give me a moment, Sam," he said before darting back in as quickly as he'd popped out. Sam wasn't able to give his head a proper scratch before Frodo came out again and this time left the room for good. Frodo locked the door and then began to briskly walk down the hallway.
"Sorry about that, Sam," said Frodo as he juggled the room key before stuffing it in his pocket. "I'm afraid I took a longer nap than I had wanted. I was a bit out of sorts when you knocked."
"Are you feeling all right, Mr. Frodo?" said Sam, growing just the smallest bit worried about his master's odd behavior. Frodo seemed both jittery and distant at the same time, if that was possible.
"I'm quite fine, I promise," said Frodo as they approached Bag End's exit. The sound of lively music filled all the rooms now and a few of Frodo's finer dishes seemed to be clattering around on their shelves.
"Should I tell Mr. Pippin to play quieter?" said Sam, noticing Frodo's slight frown at the bouncing porcelain. The frown disappeared almost as soon as Sam spoke.
"Not to worry," said Frodo. "What's a good Shire party if it isn't noisy?"
"I suppose you're right, Mr. Frodo," said Sam with a shrug. "Anyway, it's like my Gaffer always says-"
But his story was cut short as Frodo was whisked away by a swarm of relatives. Sam chuckled and began to make his way for his family's table, when he was stopped by a soft hand on his arm.
"What does your Gaffer always say, Samwise Gamgee?" said Rosie Cotton. She was wearing her prettiest party dress and had ribbons in her hair. Sam felt as if his mouth was full of wool.
"Erm, hello Rose," he finally coughed out once he was able to stop staring at her dumbly. "You look very blue tonight... er, that is, your dress is very blue, more blue than you usually wear... not that I care, of course... well, I care, but... oh, what were you saying?"
Rosie laughed, but a kind gentle laugh, not the sort of mocking jeer he might get from Ted or the other rude fellows at the Green Dragon.
"I just wanted to hear you finish your story," she said with a smile that gave him terrible butterflies. "But we don't have to talk if you'd rather do something else."
Sam's eyes bulged and he swallowed hard. "I don't quite follow," he stammered.
"Well, we could dance," said Rosie, a charming tint coming into her cheeks. However, his lengthy silence caused her gaze to lower and her smile to falter. "But if you have something better to do, I reckon I'd understand..."
"No! No, I have nothing better to do!" he squawked as she begin to turn away. He grabbed her hand and forced her to look up again. "That is to say, there's nothing I'd rather do than dance with you, Rose Cotton."
Rosie regained her smile, and now Sam was no longer stammering or fidgeting, but smiling in return. Together they walked off onto the dance floor, just in time for a new number.
Up on the stage that had been assembled for the party, Pippin was scanning the crowd while strumming on his lute. He grinned to see Frodo taking up his proper role as host, greeting the few remaining families to arrive. It had worried him and Merry how withdrawn Frodo had been all day, let alone the rest of the week. But now he finally seemed to be in high spirits, as one ought to be on his birthday.
"Are you ready for a break yet?" said Merry, who'd walked up to the stage without Pippin realizing it.
"What? No, of course not! We've just started," said Pippin. Behind him, Folco Boffin and the two hobbits from Overhill that completed their quartet were still going strong on their instruments. His fingers weren't even beginning to get sore, so why quit now?
"Well, I just thought you'd want to go say 'hello' to your friends," said Merry with faux-innocence. Pippin sensed there was something he wasn't telling him.
"I've already said 'hello' to almost everyone here that I know," said Pippin, trying to remember if he forgot anyone. "What are you getting at?"
"Nothing. I just thought you'd want to personally greet your favorite Northern relations," said Merry, placing an extra emphasis on Northern. Pippin seemed to get his gist now and thoroughly blanched at the thought.
He looked towards the party entrance where his fear was confirmed: Frodo was now shaking hands with Bandogrim Took while his wife smiled a bright fake smile, his son looked about cheerfully, his niece stared into space, and his daughter glared at the ground.
"Why would Frodo invite them? Does he even know them?" said Pippin, attempting to continue strumming along with the beat despite the churning in his gut.
"Didn't your father tell you? Everyone loves the North Tooks now, apparently," said Merry. "They'll be coming to all our parties from now on."
"Since when? Oh, no one tells me anything!" wailed Pippin. Folco shot him a stern look and Pippin winced apologetically. Though he was able to keep in tune, his complaining seemed to be distracting the other players. Merry found this terribly amusing as he sat himself on the steps by the stage.
"Wait, why are you so happy about this?" said Pippin. "Mundee irritates you something awful, remember?"
"Oh, that is certainly true, I won't deny it," said Merry. "But luckily for me, I haven't actually crossed her in any real way. And even more luckily for me, I have the freedom to run and hide, because I did not volunteer to play in the band tonight."
And with that Merry strode off.
"Well, it's not like you could even play in the band!" shouted Pippin, desperate not to wind up the loser in this scenario. "You can't even sing all that well!"
Yet despite having the last word, Pippin felt unsatisfied as he watched Merry join Fatty and Frodo in what appeared to be a lively and entertaining conversation. He turned to see where the North Tooks had gone (and whether Mundee was skulking up towards the stage to further publicly berate him), but to his surprise they were already gone. He frantically looked around, hoping she wasn't about to sneak up on him and launch another attack, but fortunately she was nowhere in sight.
In fact, Mundee had no intention of coming anywhere within his vicinity that evening. She was still quite sore about the numerous incidents at the Free Fair and wanted nothing more than to be as far from him as possible. Furthermore, she had expressed multiple times throughout the past two weeks how little she wanted to come to the party at all, but they'd ignored her pleas and dragged her along regardless.
Now all she could do was sit at their table, enjoying a nice sulk while her mother attempted to smooth down her hair and her messy collar.
"I hardly think it needs to be said, but I would appreciate if you stayed out of trouble this time," said Delilah Took. "Not to mention if you stayed away from that Southern Took boy."
Mundee scrunched up her nose, while Molly sat up perkily and began to eavesdrop on their conversation.
"Mother, you know I will have nothing to do with that cretin," said Mundee as she continued to glare at the ground.
"All the better, then," said her mother in a surprisingly bright tone. "Try not to pout so much and have a reasonably good time."
Before Mundee could argue, her mother swept away to go join her father in bantering with the people they seemed to want to impress suddenly.
"I don't understand what this is about, but I don't like it," grumbled Mundee.
"What do you mean, cousin?" said Molly, her eye transfixed upon the stage where the band played.
"All my life I've wanted us to go to parties in the other farthings, to socialize with other Big Families," began Mundee. "But they've never given so much as an ounce of thought for them. In fact, I've always had the feeling my parents rather detested them. Especially the Southern Tooks. But now look at them!"
Molly looked away and saw the strangest sight: her uncle, usually taciturn and even austere, was now laughing uproariously at some joke the Thain had apparently made.
"Maybe your parents have just realized they've been wrong about the other Families all this time?" suggested Molly, ever the optimist.
"I very much doubt it," said Mundee as she continued to eye her parents' strange behavior. "They're up to something. I know it."
"Well, doesn't that just mean we'll get to see more of the others, then?" said Molly hopefully.
"I suppose so. Unfortunately," said Mundee with a deep sigh.
"I don't think it's so bad. I rather hope one of the lads will ask me to dance today," said Molly, her gaze returning to its previous point of focus. "They're awfully handsome, don't you think?"
"Oh, Molly, you'll sit here all night doing nothing if you're going to wait for someone to ask you to dance," said Mundee rolling her eyes. "Just go and ask someone yourself, before you become an old maid."
Molly looked at Mundee somewhat slyly. "Can I ask anyone? That is, you wouldn't mind?"
"Goodness, of course I wouldn't mind!" exclaimed Mundee. "I hardly care who you dance with. Do what you want, for heaven's sake."
"Oh, thank you, cousin! This will be a wonderful night!" said Molly, kissing Mundee on the cheek before dashing off into the crowd.
Mundee shook her head and stared forlornly at the empty table. She was reluctant to get up and ask for anything, because that would mean talking to anyone. As she contemplated her conundrum, who should sit down next to her but Pervinca Took!
"Hello there, dear!" said Pervinca, clearly in a jolly mood. "Long time no see! How are you?"
"Oh, not very well at all, I'm afraid," said Mundee melodramatically. "I have quite a cold, you see, but my parents refused to let me stay at home alone. They made me come all this way and I fear I haven't dressed for the weather."
Pervinca arched an eyebrow at the display, sensing all was not as it seemed. Mundee hardly looked ill and it was a terribly warm day, considering it was late September. Nevertheless, she would play along.
"My goodness, that's dreadful!" she said, clapping her hands to her cheeks. "How very unpleasant it must be for you to be sitting here, all exposed to the elements."
Mundee nodded morosely, not catching the other girl's sarcasm.
"Why, I know just the thing," said Pervinca as she suddenly stood up and pulled Mundee to her feet. "I'm sure there are some spare rooms inside Bag End where you could rest and protect yourself from the wind. I'll just go ask Frodo and-"
"Oh, no you mustn't!" said Mundee, already growing embarrassed at the amount of attention she was getting. She'd only wished to be left alone and now she'd be made into a spectacle. "We shouldn't bother him at his own birthday party!"
Here Pervinca paused in thought and looked towards Frodo, who was being thrown into the center of a circle dance.
"Hmm, I suppose you are right; it certainly would be unfair to bother him now," she admitted. But then she got another idea and began to drag Mundee towards the dwelling. "We'll just bypass his permission; I doubt he would mind. He's a very genial hobbit."
No matter how much Mundee protested now, Pervinca was relentless. She only stopped when Ilberic Brandybuck suddenly popped up in front of her.
"Er, hello, Pervinca," he said shyly. "I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind joining me for a dance..."
"No time now, Ilby," she said as she brushed past him. "Maybe later!"
As she led Mundee through the entrance, Mundee couldn't help but notice the color in her cheeks.
"That lad fancies you a bit, doesn't he?" said Mundee, hoping to catch Pervinca off guard and possibly free herself. Pervinca blushed even deeper, but continued to walk down the hallway.
"Oh, I don't know about that; he's just a very silly fellow, that one," she said before stopping front of a familiar door. "Ah, here we are. My brother and cousin usually stay in this room when they visit Frodo. I doubt you shall be disturbed here."
Mundee tried to protest, but found herself shoved inside anyway.
"I'm going to close this latch here, so anyone that passes by will know not to open the door," said Pervinca sweetly, pointing at a latch on the outside of the door.
"Wouldn't that just lock me in?" said Mundee, growing annoyed and somewhat worried. She didn't know Pervinca to be malicious, but then again, she didn't know Pervinca very much at all to start with. Perhaps Pippin had indeed had reason to fear her and his other sisters.
"Don't you worry about a thing, dear," said Pervinca patting her on the head in a rather patronizing manner. "You just rest and I'll come get you when the time is right. Have a pleasant nap!"
And with that she shut the door and closed the latch. Mundee exhaled loudly and crossed her arms. How was it she was at the party not ten minutes and had already gotten herself into what thoroughly qualified as 'trouble'?
"And why am I always getting locked in at these parties?" said Mundee, kicking the door and stubbing her toe. This was too similar to her Brandy Hall cellar dilemma for her comfort. And yet... the beds looked rather inviting, now that she looked at them.
After arguing with herself a moment longer, she caved in and lay down on the bed closest to the window. It had a bit of a smell to it, but a pleasant one that reminded her of bacon and pipeweed and fresh grass. Within minutes she had dozed off into an easy nap and was cross no more.
As Pervinca walked out of Bag End grinning to herself, amused at her own clever bit of mischief- it had been quite some time since she'd done anything of the sort, after all- she was accosted once again by Ilberic. This time he had a limp, sorry-looking bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.
"What's this? For me?" she said as he shoved them at her. "But whatever am I to do with them?"
"Well, put them down at your table, I suppose," said Ilberic with a small smile. "And then come dance with me?"
The request came out sounding rather awkward and uncertain, which really didn't impress Pervinca, who had other plans at present.
"I'm sorry, Ilberic, but I'm afraid I can't- not now, anyway," she said as she went past him once more. "I have to tend to my sister, Pimpernel. She's rather pregnant, you know."
Ilberic did know and continued to walk next to her, matching her brisk speed.
"She is very pregnant indeed to be at a party such as this," he said. "Don't you think she should be at home now?"
At hearing this, Pervinca stopped and shot Ilberic a very pointed look.
"Oh, is that what ladies are meant to do? Stay home all the time like trophies? Never going out or enjoying parties?" she said, hands on her hips. Ilberic went quite pale and stammered in horror.
"N-no, that's not... that's not at all what I meant!" he sputtered.
"I see how you are now," said Pervinca, her nose in the air. "I see how your mind works and I'll have none of it. Good day!"
Ilberic stopped in place and watched her join her sister and brother-in-law at their table. Pimpernel looked ready to burst and Barty looked eternally grateful for Pervinca's appearance. His wife seemed to be getting increasingly temperamental as the date drew nearer. Ilberic paused to think when the date indeed was, but at that moment Merry sidled up to him.
"That's no way to win a lass's heart, Ilby," he said, wrapping his arm around his cousin. "You must be firm, but understanding. And always charming to the last!"
"Oh, that's fine advice coming from you," said Ilberic as he pulled Merry's arm off. "You talk big for someone who can't even ask the lass he fancies for a dance."
"What's that supposed to mean?" said Merry, thoroughly affronted.
"Nothing, never mind," said Ilberic as he tried to escape. But Merry followed him and spun the younger lad around.
"Would you care to elaborate on your sentiments?" said Merry, his eyes narrowed dangerously.
"No, not particularly," said Ilberic, wincing. But Merry's sharp look forced his tongue. "Oh, you know what I'm talking about! You're still in love with that Bolger girl and there she is sitting alone, looking as bored as death, and you're telling me how to deal with Pervinca. At least I bothered to approach her at all!"
Merry was surprised to find himself speechless. Ilberic certainly had a point, even if he didn't want to admit it.
"There, are you content?" said Ilberic waving the pathetic bouquet at him. "Can I go get blind drunk now?"
"You may, although I wouldn't recommend it if you want to get Pervinca to dance at all tonight," said Merry in a far more pleasant tone. "And, if you don't mind, I will take these," he added, as he snatched the flowers away. "They may come in handy later."
"Do what you wish, they didn't help me in the slightest," said Ilberic glumly before ambling away.
Merry took the moment to look towards Estella, who was sitting by herself at the Bolger table, truly looking, as Ilberic had pointed out, bored as death. He contemplated the sad bouquet and then looked back at her. Estella was resting her chin on her fist as she stared vacantly into the distance. He bit his lip, thinking to make a move, and then quickly reconsidered, throwing the flowers to the ground and then following Ilberic, possibly to get blind drunk as well.
Estella, meanwhile, was amazed that for once her brother was having more fun at a party than she. Fatty was on the dance floor hoofing it with their cousin Ferdibrand Took and two pretty local girls. She found it especially amazing that no one had asked her to dance yet. Usually in addition to one particular hobbit, there were at least three other lads that would ask her. But tonight, for some reason, she was a pariah. It was incredibly disheartening.
Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, her sworn enemy, Rose Cotton, plopped down into the seat next to her.
"Hullo, Estella," said Rosie cheerfully. "Isn't it odd to see you sitting here all lonesome?"
"Isn't it just?" said Estella dryly. She had little interest in chit chat with her arch pastry nemesis, who once again had gone home with the blue ribbon at the Free Fair. If she was here to brag about her victory, Estella couldn't be held responsible for the unladylike behavior she knew would follow.
"I thought I'd give Samwise a rest and pay you a visit," Rosie went on. "We've been on our feet all night and I reckon he's tuckered out. And you did seem in want of company, so..."
"So you thought you'd be charitable to poor dejected Estella, is that it?" said Estella, her ire rising. "Well, I'll have you know, I am perfectly content sitting here by myself. I hardly need your pity."
"Of course," said Rosie kindly. Estella glared at the saccharine sweet face, wanting very much to slap the understanding smile off her dimpled mug. "It must have been very poor for your spirits to be thrown out of the competition like that."
So that's where she was going. Estella should have known Rosie only wanted to rub salt into her wounds.
"Well, obviously!" said Estella. "How do you think I would feel after trying so hard all these years?"
"It must have been awful for you," said Rosie sadly. "I think it was cruelly unfair of Mrs. Lobelia treating you the way she did. She shouldn't have kicked you out, but that's my opinion."
Estella looked up at Rosie, somewhat astonished at what felt like earnest compassion.
"Do you really think that?" said Estella, unsure whether to trust her.
"Oh my, yes," said Rosie enthusiastically. "I've always admired you and thought you a good and proper rival, if you don't mind me saying so."
Estella looked away, sheepish. "Oh, go on. You're just saying that."
"No, really! It's the honest truth," said Rosie, taking Estella's hand. "Now who am I to compete with? The Boffins and their treacle? I hate to say it, but it's really no competition anymore."
Estella smiled, despite herself. "It's good treacle, though," she said weakly.
"No comparison," said Rosie shaking her head. "I'm sad I didn't even get to try your Tasty Squares. I heard tell they were uncommonly good."
"Well, maybe one day you'll get to try them," said Estella with a bolder smile. "You know, Rose, you're really a nice girl. It's too bad we haven't been friends before."
"That's mighty pleasant to hear," said Rosie. "I've always wanted to be friends with you, but then I had the feeling you didn't want my company."
"Now where did you get such a silly notion as that?" exclaimed Estella. "No, my dear, I think we shall be jolly good acquaintances now. Maybe it was for the best that I was banned from the competition."
"Well, I hardly believe that, but I am glad we don't have to be rivals anymore," said Rosie. "And now that we are friends, I think I should let you know there is someone that is very keen to have a dance with you."
"Oh?" said Estella as she looked around, her cheeks heating up. "Who is it?"
She knew who she hoped it was, but it couldn't be possible. She could see Merry on the other side of the pavilion, sitting next to his cousins engaging in what appeared to be a drinking contest.
"Why, my brother Jolly," said Rosie to Estella's surprise. She pointed out the good-looking Cotton fellow who stood with his brothers and the Gamgees, deep in conversation but looking at her instead. Estella couldn't say she was completely disappointed, as he seemed friendly enough, though it certainly wasn't what she'd expected.
"I never thought he even knew who I was," said Estella.
"Oh, yes, he knows of you indeed," said Rosie with a laugh. "After all these years of our rivalry, how can he not know? Say, would you like me to introduce you two?"
Estella mulled the idea over, but seeing as Merry wasn't getting up, she decided there couldn't be any harm in it.
"Why not? I need to stretch my legs anyway," said Estella as she rose. Rosie stood as well and happily led her over to her brother, who was more than eager to whisk her onto the dance floor. They had only done one reel around the floor when the song ended and the band ceased to play. The crowd let out a unanimous groan of disappointment.
"Sorry folks, but we've got to eat, too!" called out Folco as he descended the stage. "We'll be back in no time at all!"
Jolly and Estella both shrugged and then decided to go for a stroll around the garden. Merry watched this through a narrow and bitter eye before taking a mighty swig of his draught.
Pippin meanwhile had his eye all over the dance floor, searching for the source of his terror. The two boys from Overhill climbed off the stage and waited for Pippin to come down as well.
"Are you comin' or no?" said Jesse, the older of the two.
"You chaps go on without me," said Pippin as he continued to browse the crowd. "I'll come down when I'm good and ready."
"Suit yourself," said Mattie, the other lad. "All I know is I'm rightly starvin' and I ain't waitin' any longer."
The two headed for their table and set to feasting while Pippin gazed around anxiously. Finally Merry came over looking far less merry than his name suggested.
"Did you see Estella?" he said, sounding fairly aggravated.
"No, have you seen Mundee?" said Pippin. Merry stared at him as if he had just been asked whether he'd seen a barrow wight.
"I have not, but what does it matter?" said Merry. "Clearly if she wanted to quarrel with you, she would have already. Come down before you make a further fool of yourself."
Pippin wasn't so sure it was safe yet, but decided if there was a time to make a run for it, this was it. At any rate, his fingers could use a cool cloth. They were exceedingly sore after strumming so furiously for so long and...
And as he gazed down at his hands, he realized they were worse than just sore: they were bleeding.
"Merry! My hands! Would you look!" he cried aghast. Merry rolled his eyes, but when he looked at Pippin's hands, he too was horrified.
"What the deuce have you done to yourself?" he said, grasping Pippin's hands, which now shook in addition to bleeding.
"I didn't do anything!" said Pippin. "I was just playing my lute. Why should they start to bleed so?"
"Pippin, how long do you usually play for?" said Merry, a thought coming to him now.
"I don't know, not more than twenty minutes or so," said Pippin as he screwed up his face in thought. "Why?"
"Today you have been playing for well nearly two hours!" said Merry. Pippin stared at him as the realization dawned on him as well. He winced and then looked back at his hands.
"Oh, what am I supposed to do now?" he whined.
"Do? You will clean your hands, wrap them up, and then you will do nothing," said Merry as he led him toward Bag End.
"But what about the band?" said Pippin sadly as he stepped through the entrance.
"They will hardly suffer without you," said Merry pushing him down the corridor. "Either they can find someone to replace you or they will play with one fewer musician. It won't be the end of the world."
"Oh, I suppose not," said Pippin. "I don't imagine it will be very fun sitting on the sidelines, though."
"Well, you'll just have to deal with it like the rest of us musically challenged sods," said Merry.
"What, you mean watch the lasses you fancy dance with other blokes while you drink your sorrows away?" said Pippin with a cheeky grin.
"Now you're getting it," said Merry, clapping him cheerfully on the back. They continued down the hallway joking in such a manner until they reached one of the bath rooms. Neither noticed the closed latch on the door of their guestroom.
When they came back out, Pippin's fingers successfully bandaged, the band had returned to the stage and resumed playing without him. Spotting him as he approached the party area, Folco and the other lads shot him a questioning look. He merely held up his hands and they nodded in apprehension. Merry had been right, as the music didn't suffer without his presence and, in fact, there were already quite a few pairs back on the floor dancing again.
"And now we get smashed?" asked Pippin, the idea of drinking the night away growing on him enormously.
"That we do-" started Merry, before noticing something unsettling. "That is, after I get Berilac to stop strangling Doderic."
Without further ado, he ran off to separate his brawling cousins, leaving Pippin stranded on the dance floor. He was about to follow and either try to help or have a good laugh at the Brandybucks' expense, when the last person he expected hopped up in front of him.
"Hello Peregrin," said Molly looking unbearably chipper.
"Er, hello, Molly," said Pippin, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "How have you been?"
"Oh, very well, if not a little bored," she said. "I was hoping you would dance with me."
"Well, that's very direct, isn't it?" said Pippin, somewhat surprised at the straight forward request. From what he knew about girls (more importantly, what he'd been told by his friends) they tended to be very discreet and vague, causing lads much perplexity and heart-ache.
He looked over to see what Merry was up to, and, seeing that he too was now entangled in the fight, he decided to give Molly a shot, having little else to do.
"Oh, why not?" he said with a smile before extending his hand. When she gripped it hard, Pippin winced and added, "Mind the bandages, please!"
With that, they joined the spinning couples on the floor, Molly too excited to be dancing with Pippin to remember not to press on his fingers and Pippin attempting not to step on Molly's feet every time she squeezed his hand.
Back at the Brandybuck table, the fight had already dwindled away into nothing, with Berilac and Doderic clutching each other and singing drunkenly along to the melody. Merry nursed his sore jaw with a cold beer mug, and Merimas slipped under the table, falling into a deep sleep. Ilberic shook his head at the sad bunch and decided enough was enough. He was making a move and that was that.
"Wish me luck," he muttered before heading towards the Took table.
"Good luck," said Merry after removing his hand and cringing at the pain.
"G'luck!" sang out Berilac and Doderic.
Merimas only snored in response.
Ilberic walked up to the table, where Pervinca was busy chatting with Pimpernel and Pearl while their husbands appeared to be engaged in a rather one-sided arm-wrestling match. He loudly cleared his throat, causing Pervinca (as well as the other Tooks) to stop talking and look up.
"Pervinca, I tire of your abuse," he said. "You dismiss me too often and too callously."
She stared at him, utterly befuddled. He took a deep breath and then continued.
"But I will no longer take 'no' for an answer." Then in a surprisingly swift and strong motion, he grabbed her hand and pulled her up. "You're going to dance with me now and that's that."
Pervinca continued to gaze at him in silence, but now quite overcome with his stern expression and firm tone. Then just as he thought his knees would finally buckle, she broke into a smile and began to laugh.
"Oh, really now, Ilby! All that to-do so you could ask me to dance! Why, that's the silliest thing," she exclaimed.
"Well, will you dance or won't you?" he asked, his voice cracking ever so slightly. She sighed and linked arms with him.
"What do you think?" she said, before dragging him off to dance.
"How sweet," said Pearl and Pimpernel simultaneously.
"Boy needs some more guts!" grunted Joe. "That's hardly any way to charm a lady."
Barty took this moment of brief distraction to slam Joe's loosened fist down onto the table and then leapt up victorious.
Merry, who'd seen the entire strange performance, felt ridiculous babysitting his drunk cousins while everyone and his mother-in-law was having a splendid time dancing. As he ruminated over the topsy turvy world he'd found himself in where Pippin had a dance partner and he didn't, he suddenly noticed Jolly Cotton leading Estella back into the party enclosure. He decided this was his best chance. And anyway, if Ilberic could win over his lady, he certainly could. Or try, anyway.
He stood up and boldly walked up to the pair, blocking them off from their path to the dance floor.
"Hello Jolly," he said politely. "Mind if I cut in?"
"Well, as a matter of fact-" But before he could finish, Estella was speaking over him.
"Jolly, thank you for strolling with me," she said. "But I think I shall join Merry now."
Jolly looked somewhat crestfallen, but then smiled crookedly and shrugged before leaving them to their business. It was disappointing but not uncommon for partners to be passed around at parties in such a manner. In the end he'd enjoyed the company of one of the prettiest lasses in the Shire, and that was nothing to shake your fist at.
Merry and Estella, however, remained standing where they were, as if rooted to the ground. The awkwardness from the Free Fair seemed to have returned in full.
"Did you have a nice time with him?" said Merry, trying not to sound jealous but merely inquisitive.
"Oh, yes, it was very pleasant," said Estella avoiding eye contact. "Though I have to say, there seemed to be something missing."
"Yes, and what would that be?" said Merry, perking up significantly. Estella looked up him, blushing rather furiously now.
"Oh, Merry, are you going to ask me to dance or not?" she said, unable to contain her mirth. Merry felt the lovely feeling of butterflies in his stomach return.
"Estella, you would do me the highest honor-" Once again Estella was forced to interrupt.
"That's quite enough! Let's go!" she said as she took his hands and practically skipped onto the dance floor.
Pippin smiled to see his favorite couple reunited once again. They looked incredibly happy and it warmed his heart to see Merry truly fitting his name after months of alternating melancholy and feigned contentment.
And to be perfectly frank, he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he was having a nice time as well. Molly had stopped squeezing his fingers painfully and wasn't talking much, so altogether it was pleasanter than he'd expected. Although, she did seem to be getting more out of the dance than he was, what with the way she'd wrapped her arms around his waist and had shut her eyes. Furthermore, he wasn't really getting that odd sensation in his gut that he usually did when... well, it didn't matter, did it? He was pleased and that was that.
His sister, Pimpernel, was not very pleased at this point, though. Pearl and Joe had just left her to go dance, as well, and it seemed like she and Barty were the only couple left that weren't dancing.
"I want to get up," she suddenly announced. Barty stopped counting stars to look over at his wife.
"What is it, dear? Another trip to the loo?" he said.
"No, Barty, I want to dance," she said. Barty nearly choked on his spit.
"But dearest, surely you can't think you're in any condition-"
"I want. TO DANCE."
Well, there was no more arguing after that. Despite knowing full well that she was due any day now, Barty reluctantly came over and helped her up to her feet. He continued to try to convince her to sit back down as he walked her slowly over to the intensely crowded dance floor, but she'd have none of it and forced him to spin her. As he fearfully obliged, her expression of glee to be moving again turned into one of shock and horror.
"Barty, I think I do need to go to the loo now," she whispered.
"What? I can't hear you!" he shouted over the din.
"I said, I need to go to the loo," she said louder. Still, it was no use. The music and the revelers were drowning out her words.
"I think my water just broke!" she finally shouted. At this, everyone immediately grew silent and stopped dancing.
"Good gracious, just now? Just here?" exclaimed Barty, feeling a mixture of terror, surprise, and excitement. All the nearby dancers moved away, very much perturbed by the conversation and the puddle by Pimpernel's feet.
"Well, heavens, where do you think? Honestly, Barty, sometimes I-" But Pimpernel wasn't able to finish as she suddenly doubled over in pain. Just as Barty helped her up and started to lead her to the house, Pervinca, Pearl, and their mother Eglantine dashed over.
"Pim, are you all right? Is it time?" said Pearl gently as she joined Barty in helping Pimpernel along. Pimpernel could only nod as a wave of excruciating pain hit her, causing her to groan loudly.
"All right, out of the way! Pregnant lady coming through!" shouted Pervinca as she jostled curious hobbits out of the way. "My sister is going into labor! I SAID MOVE!"
"Goodness, whoever thought it would happen so soon," said Eglantine as they brought her to the door.
"I did, actually," said Barty. "I was very much against us going to the party, but someone had to insist."
Pimpernel paused from hyperventilating to grab her husband by his shirt and pull his face down to hers.
"WE ARE HAVING A BABY," she growled. "NOW IS NOT THE TIME."
Barty gulped and tried to pull away, but her grip was now nearly vice-like and he had to be dragged down the corridor, stooping all the way through.
As they disappeared down the tunnel, Pippin came rushing toward the door. Pervinca, however, stepped in front, blocking him off.
"Husband and midwives, only," she said pompously. She stepped aside to let in two elderly gammers, but then blocked him off once more.
"She's my sister, too!" cried Pippin. "What am I supposed to do, stand around twiddling my thumbs?"
"Well, yes," said Pervinca. "That or whatever other nonsense you generally do."
Pippin tried to give her his most menacing look, but even a head shorter, Pervinca always beat him in the menacing looks contest. He skulked away, having seemingly given up. But in actuality he had a better plan.
He crept along the side of Bag End, making his way to the window he recognized as the one belonging to his guest room. He'd tinkered with it enough times that it could always slip open from the outside with the greatest of ease. Most of the other windows were a little more difficult to deal with, and could potentially cause a great deal of noise, notifying his sister and whoever else was inside that he was climbing in.
But now he pushed up on his window and it slid open like butter. He stealthily climbed in and silently slid the window back down. He was feeling very proud and pleased up until he turned around and came across the strangest, most horrifying sight: there, in his bed, lying sound asleep, was none other than Mundee.
He bit down on his lip to keep from shouting. After a moment, he managed to compose himself, and then quietly tip-toed across the room to the door. And instead of swinging open as he'd expected, to his greater horror, the door remained shut and wouldn't budge. Either there was something wrong with the knob or someone had actually closed the latch Merry had installed when they were younger. It was generally only used for games and they hadn't locked it in ages. To think that they'd forgotten to remove it and now he was stuck in a room with what was more frightening than a sleeping dragon... well, suffice it to say, he was very frustrated with his lack of foresight.
He now slunk back to the window and tried very quietly to open it. He couldn't risk waking Mundee or else who knew what further injuries he might suffer. Just as he'd managed to slide it as far open as it would go, he heard a rustling in the bed and then-
"Pippin, is that you?"
He panicked and accidentally let go of the window, allowing it to slide down and slam onto his bandaged left hand. He pressed his face into the glass, his mouth hanging open in a silent scream. Then swiftly he pulled his fingers out, turned around, and put on a friendly grin, pretending he wasn't in a vast amount of agony.
"Hi there, Mundee!" he said brightly.
"What's going? Why are you in my room?" she said blearily as she rubbed her eyes. Her room?
"I- I don't know why I'm in your room," said Pippin. "You tell me."
Mundee stared at him a moment, her eyes still hazy and distant. "Is this a dream?" she finally said, much to Pippin's relief.
"Yes! Yes, it is. This is a dream and I am not at all real," he said as he attempted to pull the window open again with his uninjured hand.
"No, that's not right," said Mundee slowly. "You're not wearing what you wore the last time."
Now this was interesting. "'Last time'? What did I wear last time?" Pippin knew he shouldn't encourage a conversation, lest she come to her senses, but this was too intriguing to simply let go.
"Um, some sort of odd black outfit," said Mundee as she struggled to remember. "I think there was a white tree on it? Anyway, it was different than this."
"Oh, that other outfit was getting hot, so I changed into this one," lied Pippin. Mundee nodded as if this made perfect sense. Then she cocked her head and smiled strangely.
"Well, why don't you come over," she said, patting the spot next to her, "and finish what you started last time."
Pippin's eyebrows shot up into his forehead. He felt as if he'd swallowed a stone. "What did I start last time?" he stammered, half afraid to hear what she was about to say.
"You were braiding my hair, of course." Then shaking her unkempt curls, she added, "But it's gotten all messy since then, you see."
Pippin breathed a sigh of relief, happy to hear it was only something bizarre and not something... well, disturbing.
"I'm sorry, but it'll have to wait another night," he said. "I'm afraid I must leave now."
"Oh," said Mundee glumly. "All right, then. Goodbye."
Pippin tried to open the window, but his present handicap made the simple task much more arduous than it ought to be.
"Can I beg you for a favor?" he said, turning back to her. She nodded enthusiastically. Apparently in her dreams Mundee didn't have a passionate hatred for him. "My left hand's a bit hurt, so could you open the window for me?"
Mundee came over and pulled the window open, allowing him to climb out successfully.
"Now, go back to bed and wake up," he said once he was outside.
"How do I do that?" she said, attempting to peer out and see where the music was coming from. Pippin blocked her view and pushed her inside.
"Well, it's a bit like going to sleep," he said. "You just go back to bed and lie down and then the next thing you know, you'll be awake."
"That sounds reasonable," said Mundee. Then patting him on the cheek, she added, "Good night then. Or morning. Whichever it is!"
She closed the window and lay back onto the bed. Pippin, meanwhile, shook his head, unable to believe that whole charade had actually worked. He wandered back to the party in a bit of daze himself, having forgotten why he'd tried to enter in the first place.
As Pervinca watched him saunter back to the party (and almost immediately get attacked by Molly), she suddenly felt as if there was something she was forgetting. Something she knew she ought to remember, because it was somewhat pressing and time sensitive. And yet as hard as she tried to think what it was, it simply wouldn't come to her.
But then she overhead a snippet of Pippin's conversation with his captor as the girl dragged him back toward the party field:
"You're very keen to follow me around today. Aren't you wondering where your cousin is?"
"No, why should I wonder? At home, Mundee slips off without me all the time."
Pervinca's eyes went wide as the memory of her earlier prank came flooding back. She darted into the house, and, hoping no one would sneak in to spy on Pim (though who in their right mind would?), ran all the way down the corridor until she'd reached the infamous room.
She quickly undid the latch and pulled the door open, finding to her relief that Mundee was actually having what looked like a rather pleasant nap. However, the jig was up and the dream had to come to an end. Pervinca came over to the bed and shook Mundee awake.
"Hmm, what is it now?" mumbled Mundee as she rolled over.
"Come, come now; it's time to wake up!" said Pervinca as she pulled the girl to her feet. "I'm dreadfully sorry I left you in here for so long. It just slipped my mind, you see."
"This isn't another dream, is it?" said Mundee as she rubbed her eyes. However, she jerked out of her sleepy reverie upon hearing a piercing and rather blood-curdling shriek.
"I assure you it isn't," said Pervinca as she now began to usher her down the hallway. But now Mundee was curious.
"Oh, now wait a minute! You can't just expect me to hear a thing like that and then shove me out the door without any sort of explanation!"
"I can and I do! Goodbye!" said Pervinca before giving her one last solid push out the exit and tightly shutting the door closed.
"Well, I never!" grumbled Mundee as she brushed herself off. It was quite a thing to go from a nice if strange dream into such a rude awakening. But her foul mood instantly lifted when a familiar waggish face appeared in front of her.
"Good evening, miss! And where have you been all night?" said Nibs Cotton, the friendly (and very flirty) youth she'd met at the Free Fair.
"Oh, around..." said Mundee with a vague gesture at the door behind her. She was surprised the lad remembered her at all after the whole three minutes they'd spent conversing, but she didn't intend to show any overt excitement. That seemed to be her downfall with most fellows she took a liking to.
Fortunately, this tactic worked, as Nibs laughed in response, took her hand, and pulled her to the dance floor. She couldn't help but laugh as well, as he was quite an impressive dancer and was twirling her every which way. Through her blurry, spinning vision, she could see Molly and Pippin dancing nearby. For some reason now she couldn't find it in her heart to be angry at him anymore. And though she hadn't expected to see her cousin clinging to him so, it amused her more than anything.
Nibs suddenly tossed her in the air, and, in her brief moment above the crowd, she saw the most intriguing sight: Merry and Estella were slinking out of the party field, hand in hand. When she came back down to earth, Mundee knew she wanted to follow and see what they were up to. Last she'd heard they weren't exactly on the best terms with each other. To see them disappearing together was peculiar enough to warrant abandoning Nibs, no matter how charming his smile was.
"Oh my, I'm feeling so faint," she said, pulling away from him. "I need some fresh air."
"But we're outside," said Nibs as he followed after her.
"I mean I need to take a walk and clear my head," she said. "Alone, please."
Nibs shrugged and let her go off. Pippin, however, had witnessed the scene as well as Merry and Estella's getaway, and he wasn't about to let Mundee ruin things between the pair after they'd just patched things up. Even if it meant feeling the brunt of her rage.
"Molly, I need to use the outhouse," he quickly fibbed as he disengaged himself from her grip. "I'll be back in a little while. Dance with someone else."
Molly watched him run off feeling somewhat downtrodden at first, but then quickly shook off the mood and latched onto the newly available Nibs.
Mundee was able to follow Merry and Estella quite effectively by hiding behind a row of large bushes. Unfortunately, the bushes and the distance made it a bit hard to hear the conversation. She could only make out bits and pieces and it didn't seem to make much sense out of context.
"Merry... don't know... all this."
"Well, either... you're not."
"...still don't think... upset with you."
"...don't think... was wrong, either. ...same time... put that behind..."
"...do, too, but- hold on... hear something?"
"...probably just... maybe... field mouse. ...maybe a cat chasing... mouse."
Mundee stopped moving and held her breath, worried she'd be caught now. But fortunately they didn't think to investigate and kept on going. She was about to keep going, too, but suddenly someone behind her hissed, "Oh, no you don't!" and grabbed her by the foot, pulling her away. Before she knew it, she was lying face-down on the grass. She turned over and glared up at her attacker.
"What do you want?" she growled at Pippin who sat a foot away from her.
"You are not going to ruin this for them!" he growled back.
"Is that so?" She stood up and began to creep away, adding, "Well, watch me."
To her surprise, Pippin deftly leapt after her and tackled her to ground. This time he sat on her chest, forcing her to stay down and very nearly crushing her in the process.
"Argh! Get off me!" she wheezed.
"Not until you promise to leave them alone!" he said.
"Oh, fine!" she moaned. "I promise, just get off me!"
"Promise what?"
"I promise I'll leave them alone! Come on, you're flattening me!"
Pippin smirked and then complied. Mundee stood up with some difficulty and took several deep breaths.
"Of all the nerve..." she muttered as she smoothed out her grass-stained party dress. "Look, now it's more green than blue!"
"I like that color better anyway," said Pippin with a shrug. He glanced over the hedge and saw that Merry and Estella had wandered quite out of sight.
"Oh, what do you know? You're just a lousy ruffian!" grumbled Mundee as she stormed away from him, heading back for the party.
"Don't tell me you're still cross," said Pippin as he followed her. "The fair was months ago!"
"I don't even care about the fair anymore," Mundee called over her shoulder.
"Then why won't you talk to me?" said Pippin, a smile tugging at his mouth. Mundee stopped now and slowly turned around. She didn't look amused, and yet, she didn't seem so intimidating to him anymore. He couldn't understand why he'd been so afraid of her all night.
"Come on, cheer up," he said pinching her cheek. "You're at a party, stop sulking."
Mundee brushed his hand away, but he could tell she wanted to smile, too, even though she forced herself to scowl.
"You tackled me!" she squawked. "Not to mention the whole episode where you rudely abandoned me at the fair!"
"Aha!" exclaimed Pippin. "I knew you were still upset about that."
Mundee crossed her arms and stared him down. Pippin sighed and put his hands on her shoulders.
"I am sorry for abandoning you," he said sincerely. "It wasn't right and I'm a terrible friend for doing it."
Mundee contemplated this apology and then sighed as well. "I'm sorry for screaming at you in front of everyone. You can kiss whomever you want, even if they were fat hussies."
"They weren't fat or hussies and I didn't get to kiss anyone because of your antics," said Pippin, wagging his finger. "But I accept and forgive you. Friends again?"
He stuck out his hand and Mundee was about to shake it when she noticed the bandages.
"What happened here?" she asked as she turned the hand over.
"Oh, you don't want to hear about that," said Pippin pulling his hand away. "It's a very long and boring tale..."
"Come on! I thought we were friends again? You're going to keep secrets from me?" said Mundee.
"Very well," said Pippin rolling his eyes. "I was playing with the band, and since I haven't played in a while, I guess you can say I was a little rusty. And, well... after about two hours my fingers were well past blistered, if you take my meaning."
"I think I get it," she said, cringing at the mental image. "No need to elaborate."
"Indeed." Then speeding up his pace, he added, "Now, let's try to get back before all the ale is gone."
"Hear hear," said Mundee as she sped up to match him. "I've barely had a chance to enjoy this party properly, what with Pervinca locking me in your room."
"Is that why you were sleeping?" said Pippin. He instantly regretted saying anything.
"How did you know I was sleeping?" said Mundee, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"I heard you snoring," said Pippin quickly. "You were very loud."
"I do not snore!" Mundee shouted, before giving him a light kick in the bottom.
"You do, too. I heard you all the way from the party field," said Pippin in mock seriousness. "Which, by the way, we are approaching now, so you should behave yourself."
"I'll behave myself if you stop making up great big lies," said Mundee. Pippin snorted and Mundee stuck out her tongue at him, but that was the last bit of true silliness before they entered the party field.
"You know, I had the strangest dream earlier..." Mundee began, but Pippin cut her off.
"You'll have to tell me about it later. Look up there," he said, pointing at Bag End. The front door was open, letting the light spill out, and they could see a silhouette of a tall figure smoking a pipe in front of the entrance. "That looks like Barty."
"So?" said Mundee, failing to recognize the significance.
"You don't know, do you?" said Pippin, growing increasingly excited. "Pim went into labor while you were asleep. She's having a baby."
"What?" exclaimed Mundee. Pippin nodded vigorously. "That must be why Pervinca shoved me out so roughly before when I heard that scream."
"Yes, and if Barty is out there..." said Pippin, pointing at his brother-in-law again. Mundee seemed to follow his trail of thinking.
"Do you think...? Already?" asked Mundee following Pippin as he changed his course to head up to the door.
"I don't know, but I'm not waiting to find out!" he said, rushing up the hill. Mundee followed, but couldn't go as fast, both due to her shorter legs and the lingering soreness of her body from Pippin's attack. She watched as Pippin reached Barty, asked the obvious question, and then whooped with joy. She laughed to see him hug the other hobbit and jump up in the air, clicking his heels together. He then ran back towards her, face aglow.
"I'm an uncle!" he shouted.
"You were already an uncle," she said chuckling.
"You know what I mean!" he said as he began to descend the hill.
"Well, is it a boy or a girl?" she said as she tried not to fall while rushing downhill after him.
"It's a girl! They haven't picked a name yet, but it's a healthy little girl!" he gushed. "Come on, let's go tell everyone!"
And then after avoiding each other all evening, they spent the rest of it going around the party spreading the news.
The next day after all the guests had left, Frodo found a haggard-looking Sam picking up litter in the garden. He pulled out the little sheet of paper with the questions that had been agreed upon and then found a small pencil in his waistcoat pocket. This probably wasn't necessary since Sam would only ever have nice things to say about a party of his master's, but it had to be official so there was no choice but to get it over with.
"Sam, have a rest," he said, pointing at a bench. "Take a seat, my lad. I have a few questions for you."
Sam obliged, but seemed uncertain about the meaning of this request. "What's the matter, Mr. Frodo?" he said. "Have I done anything wrong?"
"No, not at all!" chuckled Frodo. "Relax, this is a trifle, but I'm afraid I have to do it."
He looked at the sheet and began. "On a scale from one to ten, how would you rate the party? With one meaning very poor, and ten meaning very good."
Sam hardly had to think. "Ten, I should say, sir. But what's this all about?"
"I can't tell you, Sam. Not now, anyway. But moving on... on a similar scale, how would you rate the food?"
"Er, ten?"
"And the drinks?"
"Ten, of course."
"And the decorations?"
"Well, now, I saw to that a bit, didn't I? With the garden, if you follow me. Can I say eleven?"
Frodo smiled as he wrote down ten. "And how would you rate the music?"
Here Sam paused. "Well, I want to say ten, but to be honest, it wasn't quite the same with only three players. So I'll say eight. No! Nine!"
Frodo wrote down eight, wanting to be fair to the other competitors. "Was there anything at all that bothered you about the party?"
Sam paused again, trying to think of something, but ultimately shook his head. "It was a mighty fine party, Mr. Frodo. Very fine, indeed. I can't think of anything I didn't like."
"Fair enough. Is there anything you think could be improved?"
"Well, like I said about the band. I suppose, next time make sure all your players are ready for the job?"
Frodo scribbled the comment down, but then Sam thought of something else. "Oh, and maybe we should have set up more lanterns? Rose Cotton told me her brother Nick couldn't find his way back home in the dark and ended up sleeping in the field. But then, she said he was very drunk, so I reckon that's neither here nor there."
Frodo added in "More lanterns" nonetheless. It was actually a substantial issue.
"And now the last one: what was your favorite thing about the party?"
"Well, now, that's a tough one and make no mistake," said Sam, rubbing his chin in thought. "I rather liked dancing with Rose, that was a good part. But, oh, how can I forget all that with Mr. Pippin's sister? It was so exciting. Imagine, a little thing like that being born here in Bag End."
"Yes, it was very special," said Frodo smiling as he remembered seeing the tiny wrinkled pink face. He'd been allowed to see the baby last night as well as in the morning when the Tooks (and Hornblowers and Burrowses) all headed back home. She was a sweet little thing, indeed.
"That's all the questions then, Sam," he said, pocketing the sheet. "Thank you very much for your time. You can go home and get some proper sleep."
"Oh, but Mr. Frodo!" said Sam as he stood up. "Who will clean your garden?"
"Don't worry about it, Sam," said Frodo. "Merry and Pippin are still here, so I can bother them after they wake up."
"Oh, if you say so, sir," said Sam as he reluctantly headed for the gate.
But then Frodo thought of something and called out, "Hold on, Sam! One more thing!"
Sam stopped and turned around immediately. "Yes, sir?"
"How do you feel about coming with me to Long Cleeve for Yule?" said Frodo, thinking of the next stage in their party competition. "I'm supposed to bring one guest and I thought you'd enjoy seeing another part of the Shire."
"Oh, I think I'd like that very much," said Sam. "I heard it's good hunting country. And you see all sorts of strange sights. Or so says my brother, Hal."
"Well, maybe Hal is right. We shall wait and see. But now you must go and rest. Goodbye!"
Sam waved farewell and went down the lane, thoroughly confused about his master's odd behavior and questions. But then, he was getting slightly odder all the time. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, especially if he was socializing with other families and making new friends.
It was certainly healthier than all those maps he poured over. Of course, Sam wouldn't mind going exploring one day, but he worried about his master. Sometimes he got the sense that Frodo wasn't there with him, even if they were in the same room. As if his mind had wandered off to distant parts.
No, it was nice to see him doing normal hobbit-like things, like throwing parties and attending them. And Sam didn't mind coming along, because someone had to make sure Frodo was actually enjoying himself and not drifting again. And, for goodness sake, he was going to an Old Families' party! Samwise Gamgee, Hobbiton gardener!
It was exciting news, that was for sure. Now... if only he could break it to his Gaffer that he wouldn't be home for Yule.