Chapter 7: Work-A-Day

"I warn you, if you bore me, I shall take my revenge."
― J.R.R. Tolkien

Merry walked back toward the Master's apartment, yawning and stretching. He had been up since four that morning working on the problem of retrieving the 'post ponies'. With his father's insistence of Miss Underhill being escorted around by himself until further notice, someone had to fill the role of Fili Bracegirdle. Fatty Bolger was the closet member of the Conspiracy who could come to Brandy Hall at the drop of a hat.

He had just sent the letter off with the early morning post and was hoping to indulge in a hot cup of coffee and a sweet first breakfast. The savory foods of sausage, eggs, and bacon would come with second breakfast when more of the Hall was stirring. His stomach growled as he entered the apartment.

His mother was offering coffee or tea to a rather refreshed-looking Miss Underhill. She looked like she had slept better in the green room, likely as a cause of not sleeping well the night before. "Good morning," he greeted as he took the seat across from his mother.

The two women returned the greeting as Miss Underhill indulged in the first cup of coffee from the pot, strong and black, he noted. Merry took a cup of coffee with a generous amount of cream as his mother spooned a healthy amount of cubed, honeyed apples onto Miss Underhill's plate, accompanied by toast and a large dollop of porridge. Their guest held a restrained look of panic at the amount of food on her plate, and Merry quickly hid his smirk behind his cup.

"Have you sent off your post already, dear?" his mother asked as Merry began to spoon his own helping of honeyed apples onto his plate.

"Aye," he said, filling his plate. "Fatty will likely be out with the rest of the family by next week."

"Lovely," Esmeralda said with a grin as she tucked into her own breakfast. "Let me know when the reply arrives, and we will make arrangements."

Merry nodded, his eyes flicking to Miss Underhill as she began to eat. There seemed to be a tenseness in her shoulders as she tried not to look at Merry.

"I'm sorry you won't be able to fetch your ponies yourself under the circumstances," his mother went on.

Miss Underhill's eyes flicked to him but quickly darted away once she saw he was watching her. "It's alright; Fatty did help contact the breeders," he answered.

"Have you talked to your father this morning?"

"I haven't, I thought I woke before him."

"Aye, but he got word about something or other and rushed off just before breakfast showed up."

"Did he say what about?"

"He said that heifer Clover got out of the barn again, but I think he just said that so I wouldn't worry." At his mother's words, Miss Underhill looked panicked between the two of them. "Oh, now, dear, I wouldn't worry. The Master knows how to deal with unruly Big Folk."

His mother patted Miss Underhill's arm as she looked back at her plate, pushing her food around. "Eat up dear, you've a big day ahead of you."

Three-quarters of an hour later, Merry led Miss Underhill down to the library, deep in the heart of Brandy Hall. The double doors stood ajar, and the smell of ink was prominent as the two walked inside. Glancing behind him, Merry saw Miss Underhill looking around, her mouth agape. The shelves of the Brandy Hall library stood from floor to vaulted ceiling (at least as much of a vaulted ceiling as a smial could get), with ladders here of there hung upon railings atop the shelving.

"Wow," came her mutter as she looked around herself, very nearly toppling over.

Merry withheld a smirk. "There's several thousand books in here, all dating back to the founding of Buckland," he said.

Miss Underhill glanced at him before looking around again, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I've never seen anything like this," she managed.

"And this is barely half as big as the one in Tookland," he said, watching her carefully.

Miss Underhill looked back to Merry, their eyes meeting for a second. "Where's that?" she said belatedly.

Merry turned from her, feeling she knew very well where it was. "The West Farthing," he answered. "Come, Master Burrows is waiting for us."

Striding forward towards the librarian's desk near the center of the library, Merry did not wait for her to catch up to him. She took a few hurried footsteps, loud, they seemed in Merry's ears as they approached. The closer they came to the large desk, the stronger the scent of ink became.

Upon hearing the footsteps of the fumbling Miss Underhill, Dinodas Burrows looked up from his manuscript. Setting down his quill, Dinodas stood from his seat and met them at the front of the carved desk.

"This must be my new attendant," he said, clasping his hands in front of himself.

"This is Miss Tabi Underhill," Merry said, gesturing to his charge as she stepped up next to him.

Quickly, she dipped into a curtsey. "At your service."

Dinodas bent slightly at the waist. "At yours and your family's," he responded. He beckoned her forward. "I will have you sort out the returns first, Miss Underhill."

"Oh, uhm, just Tabi is fine," she said, stepping forward.

Dinodas looked her over, glanced at Merry, and then sighed. "Right this way," he said, walking towards the returned table.

Miss Underhill hurried after him without a glance behind. Merry allowed himself a snicker as he turned to head towards the maps and scrolls kept in the back of the library, where they did not see much use.

Whether Dinodas Burrows suspected what he was doing with the ancient scrolls and maps of the Shire and surrounding areas, Merry didn't want to guess. He found his little table in the far corner, nestled under two lit sconces. It was as he had left it, with his piles of books and few scrolls. The books had given him little information about both the Old Forest and the road to Bree, and of the five scrolls, only one had a finished map that ended at the Westgate of Bree.

Sitting himself down, Merry pulled a delicate-looking map forward. Placing the delicately carved paperweights at each of the four corners, he leaned against the table and let his eyes rove over the map. He traced a finger to the very edge of the right-hand side labeled Bree's Westgate. By his estimate, it was about fifty miles, roughly three days easy going on ponies. If they took the Road.

The Old Forest was always an option if they feared pursuit. Merry doubted whether pursuit this early in their journey was possible, but Sam Gamgee had not sent a letter since late Spring once he had been found out by Gandalf. And Pippin had had less luck.

Cupping his chin, Merry leaned back in his chair. Is it worth a trip to Bag End to see for myself? he thought. But it was doubtful his father would let him go under the circumstances. No, he would have to keep faith in both Sam and Pippin.

Tabi warily walked through Brandy Hall's great library's tall shelving. She had spent the morning alphabetizing the returns, sorting them by genre, and placing them back on the shelves. The work had been easy enough for the morning, if monotonous. But there were at least two hundred returns and, as Master Burrows had said, more to come tomorrow.

The librarian had explained that not only did he lend out to the Hall and to the surrounding homes in Bucklebury but to the villages of Crickhollow, Newbury, and, occasionally, to those in the Marish and Stock. Tabi only had a general idea of where Crickhollow and the Marish were but knew the other villages only by name.

Master Burrows had been impressed with her speed in alphabetizing, less impressed by her sorting through genre, as she had to really leaf through the fiction books to determine what they were about. And he was completely unenthusiastic about her wandering around to find the proper places. But he supposed knowing the shelves will come with time. Tabi thought she could have sorted them out better if he had left her alone or helped rather than give her a history lesson.

Tabi found Merry in the far corner of the library. He was leaned back in his chair, feet kicked up on the chair next to him, arms crossed, and his head lulled onto his chest, dosing. On the table before him was a map of the Shire and the very edge of the Breeland. Quirking an eyebrow, Tabi stepped up across from him and cleared her throat.

"Mister Merry?" she said. There was no response.

"Mister Merry?" she repeated a little louder. The hobbit sighed in his sleep.

Tabi looked around, wondering what to do. She thought going over to shake him would be rude, so she knocked on the table. "Mister Merry?" she stated.

Merry cracked open his eyes and then jumped, seeing her before him. "Sorry," she said immediately. "But we've finished in here."

Rubbing his face and standing up, he shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, Miss Underhill," he began, moving the paperweights and beginning to roll up the map. "I should've been paying more attention. I must've slept from second breakfast through luncheon."

She gave a thin smile in apology. "You did. But you must've needed it."

Merry returned her smile as he tied a piece of twine about the scroll. "You've eaten, haven't you?"

"I have."

"Well, I will take you to the nursery, and I might find myself something to eat after that," he said, beckoning for her to follow.

The nursery, Tabi found, was quite a ways from the library, nearly a five-minute walk across Buck Hill. There were windows lining the hallway again off of one side, and doors along the other. Several rooms were left open, showing a chalkboard and desks. Four of these she counted before they stopped at a large, opened room with no door but plenty of noise coming from it.

Inside were at least twenty children of varying ages and four other minders. One she recognized as Daffodil from the day before. She wore the same colored pinafore, and her hair was pulled back similarly to Tabi's: the forelocks pinned back into place.

Merry walked up to the dark-haired woman. "Miss Daffodil, here is your new charge for the afternoon." He nodded to Tabi as she stepped up behind him.

Daffodil glanced at Tabi, who ducked into a slight curtsey. "At your service," she said.

The woman smiled. "At yours and your family's. Thank you Mister Merry, I will get her trained up for the Mistress."

Merry nodded. "I will return shortly, then." The young Master Brandybuck left them standing alone among the playing children.

Daffodil linked arms with Tabi. "You said you've minded children?"

"Yes, though, not quite to this extent."

Daffodil nodded. "Yes, the Hall takes on wardens for school while their parents spend the week working in the fields of what have you. The children have lessons and are looked after by us maids on a biannual schedule."

"Biannual?" Tabi asked as Daffodil led her around the room.

"Every six months, we may be switched into the laundry rooms or the kitchens. It depends on our specialty. Very rarely am I pulled from the nursery, but we all come to the summons of the Mistress."

Tabi nodded. They were passing a group of young lasses playing with a bunch of sewn dollies, dressing and redressing them in different gowns. Tabi smiled as the girls giggled as one of them held her doll aloft, presenting her in a very pretty and intricately sewn green dress.

"Those are the daughters of some of the more influential hobbits," Daffodil whispered. "The livestock overseer, the baker, and the accountant."

Tabi nodded as she was pulled along. Off in a corner, under a window, sat a young boy holding his blonde head. He was surrounded by little wooden pieces of varying metal colors, with his knees pulled up to his chest. "That's Twig," Daffodil nodded. "He struggles with his lessons and is from one of the poorer families."

Daffodil approached the young boy and bent down. Tabi followed suit. "What's wrong, Twig-love?"

The little boy looked up with reddened eyes. "Master Hornblower said I have to get better at learning my money. But I don't like doing takeaways."

Daffodil smiled. "Twig, this is Tabi," she nodded to Tabi, who was watching the exchange. "She will be helping us out for a while. Why don't you show her what you know?"

"Like what?" the boy pouted.

Tabi smiled gently and sat down next to him. "Why don't you start by telling me what all these little pieces are?" she began.

"You know what they are," he huffed.

"Twig-love, that's not helpful," Daffodil said.

Tabi smiled at the boy. "I'm not very good with money either; let's see if we can help each other."

"You're not?" he asked, looking up at her.

Tabi shook her head. Twig got up and quickly crawled into her lap, leaning his back heavily against her chest. Tabi couldn't help the amused smile. Daffodil looked impressed as she pushed the wooden coins toward them.

"Let's start easy," Daffodil said. "How many bronze to a silver, Twig?"

"Ten," the little one said as he leaned forward and began to count out ten brown-painted circles.

Ten bronze to a silver. Ten bronze to a silver. Ten bronze to a silver, Tabi repeated in her mind.

"Very good, Twig. Now, how many silvers to a gold?"

"Ten?"

"Almost. Can you add five to that?"

Fifteen silvers to a gold. Fifteen silvers to a gold. Fifteen silvers to a gold.

Twig counted on his fingers another five. "Fifteen!"

"Very good, lad. Now, the hard part. How many bronze in a gold?"

"I don't know, Daffy!"

"Hang on, Twig, let's count," Tabi began. "Let's count ten fifteen times." She held out a finger. "Ten." She held out a second finger. "Twenty." Then, a third. "Thirty." Twig joined in until they counted out fifteen.

"One-fifty!" Twig shouted, clapping.

They grinned at Daffodil, who nodded. "You'll do just fine, Tabi," she said.

Tabi might have smiled wider if she wasn't repeating the denomination to herself:

One-fifty bronze to a gold. One-fifty bronze to a gold. One-fifty bronze to a gold.

The light of the day was failing quickly, and the sky turned pink with streaks of purple clouds. Two men leaned against a tree, staring each other down. To their left, the Brandywine flowed lazily in the dying light of the day. "Remind me again why we are waiting to meet a Shire-rat here?" sneered the black-haired one.

"This'll be our first lead in two days, boy. I am still in charge of this mission, and don't you forget it," the other answered."We don't need help from a rat."

"Well, clearly, she isn't in this village. So, if one of them wants to give her up, we will have to take the help we can get."

"Why would Sharkey allow her to be dropped so far from Orthanc?"

The elder one sneered. "You really think Sharkey allowed her to be dropped this far away? We were supposed to return to the throne room in Orthanc. Do you really think Sharkey would change her into a Shire-rat for the laughs? How could a son of mine be so thick?"

"If it wasn't Sharkey, then who was it?"

"Greybeard. And you best be grateful that he is Saruman's problem and not ours, Bryn."

"Not only that, but you should be grateful that Sharkey's Chief is willing to help you," a voice from behind the bushes said.

Bryn sprang away from the bushes behind the tree he had been leaning against, quickly drawing a knife. "Put that away, boy," the elder snarled. He turned back to the bushes and stepped forward, bowing as respectfully as he may. "At your service, Chief."

A short, squat figure stepped forward, coming only to about belt height. "Thank you, Marroc," he said as he stepped into the failing light. The hobbit was sandy-haired, round in the middle like most hobbits, dressed in well-tailored clothes, and had pimples and pustules lining his cheeks and jawline. Bryn did not bother to hide his disgust at the hobbit's appearance.

"We appreciate your coming with information," Marroc went on, stepping in front of Bryn.

The hobbit hummed, his dark eyes darting between the two. "As a token of my loyalty to you and Saruman, here." He pulled out two full pouches of brown leather from his jacket pocket.

The strong scent of tobacco met Bryn's nose. "A sampling of the best pipeweed from my plantations in the south," he said, handing Marroc the gift.

"Thank you, Chief."

The hobbit waited for a thank you from Bryn, but as it was not forthcoming, he turned back to Marroc and looked him over with an arrogant eye. "The girl you lost is at Brandy Hall," he said, nodding across the river.

Both men looked toward a large hill looming in the distant gloom. "But you, of course, will not get in there without raising suspicions. The Master of Buckland has taken her as his personal ward. He will not let her go easily, especially with rumors that she was kidnapped by a pair of ruffians."

"And what is it that you propose we do, then?" Bryn hissed.

"Easy, child," the hobbit sneered. I am proposing I go in for you. I am distantly related to the Master, and not only do my mother and I have other business there, but I am intrigued as to why Sharkey wants a hobbit-lass—or rather a girl who was not born a hobbit." The Chief stopped to take in their surprised faces.

"Eavesdropping on us does not prove you will aid us, just like the tobacco pouches don't," Bryn went on.

The hobbit held up his hands and made to slip back into the shadows. "If you don't want my help, I will take my leave."

Marroc rounded on Bryn and jerked him close to hiss: "This bint is the best payday we will ever see, short of selling other information to a nastier buyer. We will take the help we can get."

"And in return," the Chief said, clearly having listened, "I want Manpower. I want others to help with the transportation of goods at Sarn Ford. The more hands I can get, the more (and better) pipeweed I can give to you and Sharkey."

Marroc made a face while his back was turned but plastered a grateful smile and turned to bow. "We humbly thank you for your support, Chief. But how do you expect to get the Master of Buckland to part with the lass?"

"She'll make a mistake. She'll show that whatever tales she has spun are all a farse, and she will be left with nowhere to go."

Tabi's first week and a half was the same as her first day. Breakfast with the Master and his family, then the sorting of returns in the library, and then helping in the nursery. On Highday, which she could only assume was their version of Sunday, everyone who worked at the Hall was granted a full day to spend how they wanted. At least those who weren't working in the Healers.

On the Highday after her first full week, she had an appointment with the busy Hugo Grubb to have her stitches removed in the evening, but before that, Daffodil and some of the other maids had invited her to take her earnings and go to the market.

The Mistress Esmeralda had given her the first week of earnings, added to the few days of the week prior. Two gold coins, four silvers, and five bronze. Daffodil had told her that, while she was given less as a new maid, she was still compensated very well.

Tabi, however, only really found out how well she was compensated when all she managed to spend at the market was her five bronze coins and a silver penny. She thought she made out very well by purchasing a journal and pencil set, a unisex hat, and a pretty floral printed coin purse.

But with Merry following her every move, she wondered if she was given a cheaper price from the start and was not forced to haggle. Of course, the market itself was just tables and stands set up around the northern front door of Brandy Hall for roughly a half mile. It was a quaint little farmer's market-type setup that Tabi found utterly charming.

Daffodil, whom she had bonded with rather quickly during her afternoons, invited her for a stroll along the Brandywine while they watched the children practice with their boats. Tabi had looked to Merry at the invitation, aware that he had been tailing her everywhere since she had woken at Maggot's farm. He had said he would like to spend the afternoon fishing with his cousin Berilac, and if they promised not to stray too far, he would accompany them.

So Tabi found herself arm in arm with Daffodil, walking along the path above the banks of the Brandywine. Merry and Berilac were some ten yards away, casting lines into the river from a tussock of soft grass. Smoke issued from their mouths as they lounged, poles between their feet, perfectly content with not catching anything.

About forty yards ahead of them was the class of children practicing in the grass with wooden oars. A male hobbit led the class in rowing drills while they sat along wooden benches, following instructions. Tabi could recognize several of the children from this distance. Angelica, Camilia, and Salvia were at the forefront of the class, the three richest children of the nursery. Twig sat in the back with a group of the younger children, as far away from the water as they could be.

"Have you remembered anything in the past week?" Daffodil asked as they approached the class.

Tabi glanced toward her new friend. She had spent the week mulling over her arrival and had come no closer to understanding a bit of it. All she had settled on was that it certainly wasn't a dream. Time dragged on, everything felt real, and she was certain she would have woken up by now.

She shook her head. "I haven't. All I can see clearly are the faces of the Men when they attacked me."

Daffodil rubbed her arm. "I'm sorry, Tabi," she sighed. "I wish I could help you remember. But the Master is working on the problem, I'm sure."

Tabi gave Daffodil a smile. "I am sure as well."

But truthfully, she was certain that Merry was not feeding his father any information that he didn't want him to know. She had a sneaking suspicion that Merry knew she wasn't being truthful and that this fact stayed between them. Risking a glance back towards Merry and Berliac, she found that Merry was watching her as they rounded a boulder to walk back towards the fishing hobbits. Tabi broke eye contact first.

"What do you make of Miss Underhill?" Berilac asked as Merry watched the lass break her gaze with him. Behind the lasses, Mister Bungo Burrows broke rowing class.

"I think she is becoming more comfortable here," he answered diplomatically.

"Off with it, Mer, I know you better than that. You suspect her of something."

Biting the corner of his lip, Merry glanced at his cousin. "I suspect she is not being entirely truthful."

"Have you told your father all your thoughts about her?" Merry remained quiet. "You haven't."

"Yet. I haven't yet. I'm not entirely sure what it is she is lying about. Her being attacked by those Men was certainly the truth."

"Aye, and a pair of nasty-looking ruffians they are," Berilac agreed.

By now, the entire Hall had seen the portraits and were told to steer clear of them if they were spotted but to come to the Master right away with information.

"Do you think," Berilac began after a moment, "that perhaps she was not entirely truthful about her family?"

"What are you thinking, cousin?"

"Well, could it be possible that she left home for one reason or another before she was attacked? If she was found in red, it could be possible that something not-so-nice was going on in her family."

Merry winced at the farfetched theory. "It's possible but not probable, I think."

Several things happened at once before Berilac could question him further or present another theory. There came a yell, a child's scream, and a loud splash. In half a second, Merry and Berilac were on their feet, running towards the sound, fishing poles forgotten.

"Twig!" Daffodil screamed as both lasses ran to the edge of the river.

A hand shot up from the center of the river, followed by a gasp for air as a curly brown head came up, only to be dragged downward. Merry was already unbuttoning his waistcoat as he ran towards the drowning boy.

As Merry was preparing himself to jump in after the child, he saw a shot of a brown pinafore as his ward charged down the bank and dove into the water in a perfect forward dive. Merry stopped short in shock as he watched the lass come up and swim quickly out to the flailing lad.

"What the devil happened?" Berilac shouted as they came up.

"Twig ran by saying he wanted to go for a swim after class, and before I could catch him, he dove into the river!" Daffodil gasped, running frantic hands through her hair.

"That lad never listens!" Berilac growled.

Merry as Miss Underhill fought the current to reach the lad. She dove down in the last place she had seen him, and there was an agonizingly long wait for either one to come back up again. Other members of the class began to gather around them.

"I don't like that current," muttered Bungo as he raised his hand over his mouth.

Merry had just decided to go in after both Miss Underhill and Twig when she gasped for air. She flailed for a moment, leaned back, pulled Twig against her chest, and swam with one arm back towards the shore.

Both Merry and Berliac waded out to meet her in the shallows of the river. Berilac gathered an unconscious Twig in his arms as he helped Miss Underhill stand. "I don't think he's breathing," she gasped, allowing Merry to help her to shore.

"He isn't," Berilac said in a panicked voice. Someone laid a jacket on the grass, and Berilac put him down.

Once on dry land, Tabi pushed away from Merry and hurried toward the child. Falling to her knees, she listened to his chest for a moment, then, to everyone's surprise, she placed her hands, one over top of the other, and pressed down against the child's chest in a rhythmic pattern.

"C'mon Twig," she muttered.

And then, as if he had heard her, Twig coughed and sputtered. Miss Underhill quickly turned him to his side and let him cough up the water he had swallowed. "Get all of it out, honey," she said, rubbing the child's back.

Hearing the mutters around him, Merry exchanged looks with Berilac, who then bent down to the young lad and proceeded to wrap him in the jacket he lay on. As if feeling his stare, Miss Underhill looked over her shoulder at him.

"I may have cracked his rib. He should see Master Grubb," she managed, her blue eyes taking in both him and the gaping faces of the onlookers.