"This one's lovely," Lavender said as she ran her thumb over the fine white lace. "I might have to get it."
Meg murmured her agreement as she looked through a tray of buttons. She wasn't planning on buying anything, and it wasn't as though she had the money for it anyway, but she liked to look. She picked up a tiny button, meant for the clothing of a child. It was set with shimmery mother of pearl.
"Or you could get me it for your birthday," Lavender said, still occupied by the lace.
Meg scoffed, and dropped the button back into the tray. "Where'll I get the money for that? You'll get cake like everyone else."
"But you're meant to give special presents on your thirty-third," Lavender said.
"I don't reckon you're worth it," Meg said, joining her at the rack of laces.
There were only three or four other people in the haberdashery, excluding the Hobbits that worked there. The level of noise in the room was so low that Lavender and Meg could only whisper to avoid drawing attention to themselves. In the background the shopkeeper's wife was cutting off lengths of material with a satisfying crunching sound.
"Any idea what you're going to do for it yet?" Lavender said.
"Hmm? What?" Meg said. She'd been lost in her own reverie.
"Your birthday. Only nine days to go."
"Stop," Meg said, wrinkling her nose.
"Well, you'll have to do something. You only come of age once."
"I don't really feel like doing much," Meg said, suddenly very interested in a ream of linen.
"No?" Lavender said. "What about just going down the Dragon?"
"Maybe."
"All right," Lavender licked her lips. "Oi! Everyone!" she shouted. "Meet us at the Dragon on the ninth!"
"Lavender!" Meg hissed.
"You too!" Lavender said, pointing at the red-haired lad behind the counter.
The shopkeeper's wife scowled up at them. "Could you buy something or leave, please?"
"Aye. Sorry, mistress," Meg said, pushing Lavender out of the door. She noticed the pale face of the red-haired lad and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, lad." When they were outside Meg covered her face, and started laughing in spite of herself. "Oh dear," she said. "Can't take you anywhere, can I?"
"Nah."
"That poor lad looked terrified."
"Good." Lavender smiled. "Your spirits picked up at all?"
Meg smiled sadly. "I reckon so. But don't do that again."
"I promise. So what do we do now?"
"Can we go to yours?" Meg said.
"If you like."
The roads were still muddy from the deluge they had received earlier in the week. Secretly Meg quite liked the aftereffects of rain. The way she saw it, even the world needed a good clean now and then. Most of all, though, she liked the refreshing smell that lingered afterwards, and how all the colours came out. She could do without the mud, though.
It wasn't long after they left that Clover entered the shop, setting the bell above the door tinkling. She approached the shopkeeper's wife. "Sorry, mistress, but you don't happen—"
"We don't have a job going any more than we did last month!"
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
A little way away, on Hobbiton Road, Tiger Lily was stood alone. She wrung her fingers and turned about in a small circle. It was impossible to stand still for more than two seconds. In truth, this was the first time she'd ever walked alone with someone who wasn't Sango or a relative. On top of it all, she had only realised the day before that she and Rob hadn't agreed a specific time to meet. Or, indeed, a specific part of the road. So she had chosen to wait just to the south of Bywater proper, reasoning that he would have to come to it eventually, and had arrived some time before noon. Now her feet were beginning to ache, and she thought the people passing her on the road were giving her funny looks.
Sango's warning was also playing on her mind. Even if he had admitted he had no solid reason to believe Rob was a cad, he had still reiterated to her that this meeting wasn't a good idea. She wasn't entirely sure how to tell who was a cad and who wasn't. She knew they were dishonourable lads, but she didn't think she would be able to recognise a cad if she saw one, especially as a true cad would probably want to hide their caddish nature. What if Rob was one and she never even realised?
It occurred to her that this wouldn't get much better when or if Rob did make his appearance. Walking with a farmhand probably wasn't proper. And she'd only just become respectable, too. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. You couldn't even be respectable for a full week, she thought. Why didn't you listen to Sango? He would be able to tell if Master Rob's a cad. If it wasn't for him the possibility wouldn't even have occurred to you.
"Fretful thing, ain't you?"
She opened her eyes to see Rob standing by, a perplexed look on his face.
"Oh. Hello. Sorry, I just thought I might have missed you, since we didn't agree on an exact place to meet." She stopped herself before she started to ramble. "How are you?"
"Well enough. Yourself?"
"Fine, thank you. Shall we?"
He nodded and they started to walk up the road, side by side. "You had a good day, miss?"
"Yes, thank you. Sango, my cousin and I went collecting horse-chestnuts."
"That's… nice."
Tiger Lily picked up on the edge of distaste in his voice. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." The truth was that he was annoyed by the thought of his employer's son running about the Farthing like a child while he worked his land.
"So…" Tiger Lily said, swinging her arms back and forth nervously. "What have you been doing on the farm today?"
"The roof of the old stables came down in the rain and we're repairing it."
She watched him with wide eyes. "What's that like? What do you do?"
His eyebrows drew together. "I don't get you, miss," he said.
She blinked at him. "Why?"
"Down the Dragon you sat and listened to me talking about ditching for a good five minutes. I hope you don't mind me saying, but I wouldn't expect a lady to care about that sort of thing. I mean, my dad's worked the fields his whole life, and he don't care." He paused for breath. "So why do you?"
Tiger Lily had to think about it before delivering her answer. "I just want to understand."
"Understand what?"
She shrugged. "Anything. I don't understand much, you see."
"And you want to fix this…" Rob said slowly, "by learning about ditching and fixing stable roofs?"
"Uh… Yes." Tiger Lily bit her lip. "It's silly, isn't it? I've only just realised how silly it is."
Rob put his hands in the pockets of his breeches. "If it makes you happy, miss, I don't reckon it matters how silly it is."
She grinned foolishly. "That's a good philosophy."
"I don't know about that."
"Well, I think it's nice." She held her hands behind her back and walked lightly, nearly skipping. "Are you going to tell me about repairing the roof, then? Or is that too dull for you?"
The ghost of a smile haunted Rob's mouth as he said, "Ain't nothing too dull for me, miss."
He talked about the stable roof as they walked, Tiger Lily occasionally interjecting with questions. The road to Hobbiton was long, and at a shallow incline, and by the time they reached the Ivy Bush Rob was out of breath. Tiger Lily's breathing was also heavy, but there was no indication of weariness in her tread when she trotted up to the bar to order the food.
"Do a lot of walking, do you?" he said when she went to sit opposite him on a small table.
"Oh, yes. Nearly every day." She took in his damp brow and smiled. "Why? Are you ashamed at being outdone by a lady?"
He covered his mouth with a hand as he smiled. "No. I've been working today, unlike you. I'd like to see how far you could walk after spending a day on the farm."
"I might accept that offer."
His smiled disappeared. "You don't really mean that, miss?"
Her eyes turned down. "No. Maybe not." She started to tap out a rhythm on the table.
"So is that what you and Master Sango do all day? Just walking about?"
She looked at him again to make eye-contact, and pursed her lips. "Well, not all day, and not every day. It depends on the weather."
"Where'd you go?"
"Anywhere, really. Anywhere we can get to and back from in a day. Or further, if we've prepared to camp overnight."
"You ever go to the Three Farthing Stone?"
Tiger Lily parted her lips in surprise. "Yes, sometimes." She noticed the twinkle in Rob's eye and smiled out of curiosity. "How did you know about that?"
"My dad and oldest brother were two of them that was sent to get you both home."
"Gosh, sorry about that," she said, grimacing. "That's so embarrassing."
He shrugged, which with his size was like watching a hillock make itself comfortable. "Long time ago now."
"We've gotten better at timing our walks," she said.
"Good to hear."
The thing of it was that the young Sango and Tiger Lily had meant to walk to the Three Farthing Stone and it had gotten dark before they'd started making their way back. They'd been unable to find their way home, and Mr Boffin had enlisted a number of his workers to help with the search. Rob hadn't been able to sleep out of worry, and his mum had let him stay up with her and drink warm milk while they waited for Mr Delver and Jonson to come home. At the time she had been close to giving birth to Martin, and he had sat with his head leaned against her bump to feel the new baby kicking. Jonson and their dad hadn't come home until the early hours of the morning, the latter cursing the uppers' inability to control their children. Rob decided this detail was probably best left unsaid.
A barmaid approached their table, a plate balanced on either hand. "Two fish and chips?"
"Yes, thank you."
Tiger Lily and Rob maintained eye contact, neither wanting to meet the eyes of the barmaid as she set the plates down. It was only now, under the observation of a third party, that they had both realised how they were different from the other groups of Hobbits that were sat around them. There weren't a great deal of well-to-do young ladies there in the first place, and those that were certainly weren't with lads like Rob.
Rob looked down at the plate and back up at Tiger Lily. He'd never actually had a whole portion of fish and chips to himself before. "You know I can't pay you."
"I wasn't going to ask you to," she said. "I mean it only makes sense to…" She sensed this was a difficult topic. "Can't we talk about something else?" She speared a chip and popped it in her mouth.
"I can't not think it, though," he said, pushing a hand through is hair. "It's meant to be the lad what pays."
She glanced up from her plate. "Why?"
Rob's brow creased in thought. "Don't know. Just the noble thing to do, I s'pose."
"Why?"
"By the—" Rob picked up a chip with his fingers. "You're worse'n the little'uns."
"I only want to know why," she said. Her stomach dropped away when she his look of frustration. "Sorry. I only wanted to… I didn't mean to embarrass you."
Rob looked down at the plate. He had thought he'd be able to cope with this—after all, who'd know but them? But now that he had come to it, it was too much. "We don't take charity," he said, voicing the mantra that had been repeated to him over and over since childhood.
"It's not charity," Tiger Lily said quietly. "I didn't invite you out of pity, I invited you because you were nice to talk to." She thought about the way people looked at her, like she was a child, and scratched into the grain of the table top. "I know what being pitied is like and it's really ruddy horrible," she said with feeling. She looked up to find Rob was watching her sceptically.
"'Ruddy'?" he said.
She frowned briefly. "Yes…?"
He tilted his head to one side. "I din't think anyone said, 'ruddy.' Why don't you say 'bloody' like normal people?"
"That's swearing."
"Not properly." He ate another chip. "You must say worse sometimes."
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she said airily.
"Say 'bloody.' Go on."
She steeled herself. "Bl—Ugh!" She pressed her hands over her mouth. "I can't."
Rob started to laugh; a deep, rumbling chuckle. Tiger Lily took her hands away from her mouth, smiling. I did that, she thought, shuffling her feet restlessly. She felt odd. Giddy. There was something peculiar, and not unpleasant, in the way he was smiling at her. This was probably what Sango was referring to when he warned her about walking with Rob. But she didn't feel uncomfortable. Not in the least. Maybe I should, she thought. But instead she smiled back, and rested her chin on her hands. There was time to feel uncomfortable later.
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
Meg was a firm believer in smials being the only proper dwelling for a Hobbit, but she conceded that she sometimes found the constant darkness oppressive, and the Hobbles' home with all its windows provided a nice little retreat. Lavender's mother had opened said windows to give the house an airing, and Meg smiled at her friend as she shivered.
"Mum, can't we shut the windows now?" Lavender said, keeping her arms close.
"Can't stand stale air, my girl," Mrs Hobble said from where she was emptying the grate. "A little cold's good for a person."
Lavender glared at her mother's stooped back. "Well, what about Meg? She ain't been well."
Meg sipped her tea. "I don't mind, Mrs Hobble. It's refreshing. Brisk," she added, grinning at the dirty look Lavender gave her.
"Ah, I'd forgotten about that." Mrs Hobble rose stiffly to her feet and walked to the dinner table, where Meg and Lavender were sitting. "How are you doing, love?" she said, patting Meg's hand.
Meg withdrew her hand somewhat more abruptly then she'd intended. "Fine, thank you."
Mrs Hobble made eye contact with her daughter, who's only reply was a subtle change of expression. Meg was aware of this silent exchange, but pretended she hadn't noticed because that was easier. As Mrs Hobble went to answer a knock at the door she focussed on the sunlight that came through the windows and lit up the floorboards. She wished people would stop asking after her. She was fine. She'd always been fine. Or if there was a point at which she'd not been fine it wasn't anything she couldn't cope with perfectly well on her own.
Mrs Hobble looked over her shoulder at the lasses from where she stood in the doorway. "I've got a lady here wants to see me. Could you two head through to the workshop, please?"
Meg took her mug with her as she followed Lavender to the workshop, cupping her hands around it to warm her chilled fingers. She wrinkled her nose at the distinctive smell of sawdust. The reason for the smell (which was strong even by the standards of the workshop) was explained by Nickon, who was sanding down the spokes on a wheel that was mounted on a hub clamp.
"What're you still doing here?" Lavender said, brushing the dust off a chair and sitting down while Meg went to stand with her back to the wall.
"Could ask the same of you," he said, wiping his hands on a dish rag that was slung over the workbench.
"We've been kicked out," Lavender said, crossing one leg over the other. "Mum's got one of 'er mothers in. What's your excuse?"
"I'm near finished, and Mr Whitfoot said he'd pay extra if we had it ready by tomorrow." He nodded at Meg. "All right there, lass?"
She smiled and nodded in return. "Well enough, lad."
He leaned against the workbench and inclined his head in Lavender's direction. "You met 'er new lad yet?"
"Not properly. I've seen him on the farm, of course, and we bumped into each other last… last Sunday."
"That've been the day he asked our dad for permission," Nickon said with a grin. "That was fun, weren't it, Lav?"
Lavender had closed her eyes and was pressing her fingers to the point between her eyebrows. "It was bloody horrible. I don't get why he was so keen on it."
"If you're going to set your cap at one of the uppers, this sort of thing will happen. They do things different," Meg said and drank the last of her tea. "You met his family yet?"
"No."
Meg made a hissing noise as she inhaled through gritted teeth.
"What was that for?" Lavender said, sitting up.
"Just I'm not sure you'll be welcomed all that warmly. Mr Boffin ain't one to tolerate nonsense, and with you being a working-hobbit and your history being what it is—"
"I ain't ashamed of being a hussy," Lavender said standing indignantly. "It takes effort to get a reputation as sordid as mine."
"Nor should you be ashamed," Nickon said, returning to the sanding. "Anyone can sit a home being virtuous."
"Ain't nothing to me if they do," Lavender said. "They can go their way an' I'll go mine."
"I ain't saying you should be ashamed," Meg said soothingly. "What I am saying is that Mr and Mrs Boffin might see things different."
"I don't care what they think."
"Master Sango might."
"If he breaks with me 'cus of them then he don't deserve me." She sat down again and gave a little huff, her spacious skirts spreading around her. "I don't get why everyone tries to make everything so complicated."
"It must be nice being you," Meg said dryly. "I was bloody terrified when I first met Winden's parents." She cast an aside glance at Nickon. "We've broken. Don't know if you heard."
"Heard it down the Dragon. Sorry to hear it," he said, leaning on the hub clamp. He grinned. "Some lads don't appreciate what they've got, eh?"
She smiled as brightly as she could. "Nice of you to say." She turned to face him directly. "So I'm unattached now."
Confusion flickered across his features. "Well, I reckoned you would be."
"Aye."
"Aye." He took up his sandpaper again, giving Meg one final bemused glance.
Lavender's eyebrows had been travelling further and further up her forehead as she listened to this exchange. She had just opened her mouth to speak when her mother opened the door to the house. "You two can come back in now. And you, my lad, if you've a mind to."
"I'll be going out when I'm done, Mum," he said as she disappeared back through.
Lavender rose, looking oddly uncertain. "Come on, Meg," she said, leading the way.
But Meg stayed where she was, her gaze fixed firmly on Nickon. "Fancy coming down the Dragon with us on the ninth?"
"Uh…" He drew his eyebrows together, though whether it was out of confusion, frustration or thought, Meg couldn't say. "Not sure if I can make it. What's special about the ninth?"
"It's my coming of age," she said. "Lavender'll be coming, and I'll ask Rose if she's to come. Would like to miss you out, you've always been kind to me."
He smiled apologetically. "Sorry, lass. Have a good one, if I don't see you again afore then."
"You coming, Meg?" Lavender called from the house.
"Aye." Meg walked up the couple of steps that led to the house, but turned her head to get one last glimpse of Nickon as she did.
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
"So now that field's being planted with winter wheat, and the other'll be left to fallow for the year."
"What does that mean?"
"Means it'll be left to nature, for Ivon to do with as she pleases." Rob kept his hands firmly in his pockets as he and Tiger Lily walked down the shallow decline of Hobbiton road. Trees lined either side of the road and crisp leaves crunched beneath their feet.
"Why? Because from my perspective," she said and smiled, putting a hand on her chest, "by which I mean the perspective of a clueless observer, that's letting the field go to waste for a year."
"Not letting it fallow'll damage your yields. It's like…" He withdrew a hand from his pocket as he tried to formulate his train of thought. "It's like you want to give your workers a rest to eat at midday. If you don't you might get more done short-term but they'll be useless to you by evening. The earth likes to have a rest too, now and then. It don't go to waste neither, we'll let the sheep on when the weeds've grown enough to give 'em good pickings."
Tiger Lily thought this over. "That's terribly clever. I wouldn't be able to think of that, even if I lived for five-hundred years."
"Not hard to impress you, is it?"
She looked at him bashfully. "Sorry."
"What for?"
"Oh, I don't know," she said with a sigh. "Just for being alive, I suppose."
"Ahoy! Miss Took!"
Up until this point Tiger Lily had only been vaguely aware of the steady sound of approaching ponies behind them, and the new voice startled her. She and Rob looked around at riders and she tensed as she heard him mutter an expletive. Even from this distance she could tell that the rider in front—who had been the one to speak—was Sango's brother Rico, accompanied by Abelia and Monno Grubb. She and Rob stepped to the side of the road to allow the riders to draw level with them.
"Hello, Miss Tiger Lily," Rico said, adjusting his posture as he brought his pony to a halt. "It's been a while. How are you?" His features stayed open in an expression of faux-amiability. "How's your father? Still touched in the head?"
In her mind Tiger Lily came up with a witty retort that defended her father while retaining what social graces she had. But she couldn't think of one, and even if she could she wouldn't have the nerve to use it. "Yes."
"Sorry to hear it." The corner of his mouth twitched into a vicious little smile. He glanced back at Abelia before looking down at Tiger Lily again. "How's the hunting?"
The old, sickly shame came over Tiger Lily as the smile caught on Abelia's face. Even Monno—who she knew only a little but was always pleasant enough—stiffened his posture, making his pony uneasy. She folded her hands tightly and looked to the ground. "I don't hunt."
"Is that right?" His gaze flickered to Rob and his brow creased. "Is he bothering you?"
"No," Tiger Lily said, surprised at this assumption. She looked up at Rob and it was only now that she realised he was just as tense as she was, standing to attention like a Shirriff officer and keeping his eyes dead ahead. There was no trace of emotion on his face.
"Rather an odd choice of companion, though," Abelia said.
"Abbie!" Monno hissed, and looked apologetically at Rob. "Apologise."
"Sorry, master," she said, though the tone she spoke in made it clear she wasn't.
"Thank you, miss," Rob said in a tight voice.
Rico dismounted and approached them with a swaggering step. He was a year Sango's junior, and there was a clear resemblance between them. If there were a bust of Sango's face, and a sculptor got to work on it, refining the features and making them sharper, handsomer, then they would probably end up with a sculpture of Rico. In their respective characters, however, there was little resemblance. They had been more similar as children, but the mean streak all children have blossomed in Rico when he was reaching the end of his teens. And so Sango was kind and hopeless, and his brother was cruel and witty. They had long ago despaired of each other.
"Aren't you one of the drudges from the farm?" he said.
"Aye, sir."
"This one doesn't speak much, Abbie," Rico said over his shoulder. "You can say anything you like to him and he'll just look through you. Isn't that right, you brute?"
"Wouldn't know, sir."
"Do you know, I think he doesn't say much because there's nothing going on in his head," he said, shoving back Rob's forehead with his palm, smiling like a child. Rob offered no resistance, and still his expression revealed nothing of what was going on in is head.
"I think, perhaps, we should be going," Monno said carefully, gripping the reins of his pony and eyeing Rob with caution.
"I think you're right. Do leave him alone, Rico, he'll beat you into the ground," Abelia said. "Nice to see you, Lily."
"And you," Tiger Lily mumbled.
As they rode away she saw Rico lean over to speak to Abelia, causing her to throw back her head and laugh. When they were gone Rob crossed the road and leaned against a tree, breathing heavily, his great hands balled into fists so tight the knuckles were white. She took a few careful steps towards him. "Master Rob?"
"Leave me a bit," he said, not turning around.
She did as he said, fidgeting anxiously at the side of the road as she watched his breathing slowly return to its normal rhythm and the pressure melt away from the muscles in his arms and shoulders. Eventually he stood up straight and squared his shoulders. "Right," he grunted, and turned to continue back down to Bywater.
Tiger Lily scurried after him, like a lapdog trailing a wolf. There was still a tenseness to the way he moved and carried himself that betrayed his inner turmoil. "Does he talk like that to you a lot?" she said.
"Often enough," he said, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.
"Would you like me to have a word with Sango? Maybe he could—"
"I don't need a lass to fight for me."
She scowled. "Well, if you won't—"
He stopped abruptly, and Tiger Lily nearly collided with him. "Can't. Not 'won't'."
She blinked up at him and said, "Why?"
Rob growled, and passed a hand over his face. "'Why?' Don't you have no sense in your head?" He turned to face her properly and gestured towards Bywater. "I raise a complaint and Master Rico says as how it was all my fault. So I lose my position and my wage and my family are out of coin." He let his arm drop again. "'Why?'" he said with disdain.
Tiger Lily swallowed and kept her eyes to the ground, clenching her hands together. "Sorry," she whispered. "I, um, I'm sorry." She turned from him and started to walk back to Bywater, scratching at her knuckles while her internal monologue spiralled down into its usual pit of self-loathing.
Rob watched and go, and screwed up his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He swore again. "Miss," he called.
She heard him and turned around, still twisting her fingers together. He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression bashful. "Sorry, miss," he said. "Shouldn't 'f lost my temper."
She shook her head and tried to smile, tugging at her bunches. "Oh, you needn't be. It was a silly thing to ask, and Rico treated you so harshly of course you were going to be angry."
He sighed and walked up to her. His gait was smooth now, all tension gone. "Making excuses for me won't help no one." He looked on her pityingly. "Or at least make 'em for yourself as well."
She stared at her feet. "There isn't an excuse. I should have known better. I should…" she trailed off into nothing, still not wanting to meet his eye.
"Mayhap, but it din't warrant the reply I gave. An' now you know you won't need to ask next time." Still she couldn't look at him. He gently took her hand in his. "Eh, lass?"
Tiger Lily dared to look up at him, but winced and turned her face downwards again when she saw his expression. She wished people wouldn't look at her like she was something that needed to be looked after, but she hadn't earned the right to any other sort of look. Instead her eyes settled on their hands, hers completely hidden in between his large fingers. She found she wanted to push her hand further against the appealing, rough skin of his. Then she remembered her own skin was soft: a physical mark of her inexperience and silliness. She withdrew her hand, flustered and embarrassed. Rob had realised at about the same time how his work worn hands would feel to her, and immediately plunged both back into the pockets of his breeches, equally embarrassed.
He nodded back down the lane. "D'you want to…?"
She gave a little nod and they started to walk back side by side. They didn't talk like they had done before their encounter with Rico and the Grubbs.
"Umm…" Tiger Lily bit her bottom lip. She knew what she wanted to say, but the fear of rejection choked her. Then she saw Rob's expression, and realised he was just as nervous as she was. Well, maybe not quite… "I don't think you're an odd choice of companion," she said.
He still wasn't happy, but some of the anxiety lifted from his face. "Cheers, miss," he said.
They passed through the dappled shadows cast by the setting sun. Below them the Pool sparkled, only occasionally peeping between the tree trunks at the two tweenagers, innocent as snowdrops.