To My Dear Ones,

Theodand returned from Bree-land with no news. The Master wasn't willing to extend his hospitality any further, Paladin has become anxious over the state of Tookland, and so we have returned to the Shire.

I had thought this would give me leave to go home but Paladin has ordered that I go to defend Tookland with him and the others. He says that I have neglected my duty to the family for too long. I cannot deny the truth in this, but I am longing for Bywater. You are my truest family and my duty to you is greater, I feel. But he is the Thain and the head of the Tooks and I must obey. The journey is tiring and I feel another cold creeping over me. But I take joy from the prospect of being closer to home, even if I'm not quite there yet. I'm thinking of you all and I look forward to seeing you at Yule.

Yours Lovingly,

Father

"But why does she read my letters and not Bandobold's?" Tiger Lily said. She held her longbow in one hand and was keeping her quiver steady with the other as she and Uncle Hortenbold walked the old path to the Common. Bandobold was somewhere ahead of them, probably stood by the stile and getting frustrated with the wait.

"I imagine it's because you're a young lady," Uncle Hortenbold said.

"Will she start reading his letters when he's older?" Tiger Lily said.

"I'm sure I don't know."

"That means you do know but you don't want to say. Can't you do anything? You're head of our line."

"Child rearing is out of my jurisdiction. Especially the rearing of lasses."

Tiger Lily huffed. "Stop smiling."

"I'm enjoying your outrage."

"It's not funny." They passed a bank where a group of Men were sat around a campfire. Tiger Lily tightened her grip on her bow as a reminder that she was not weak, and waited until they were well past before continuing the conversation.

"But she let me walk alone with Sango. Most mothers wouldn't allow that."

"That was probably because she believes you and he will get married one day. She seems to think it would be a good idea."

Tiger Lily looked at him sharply. "And you don't?"

Uncle Hortenbold raised an eyebrow. "You want to marry him, do you?"

"No. But he is my friend. If you take issue with him, I'd like to know why."

"Frankly, I think you could do better."

Tiger Lily frowned. She had no expectations of marrying Sango, but the idea that he wasn't good enough to marry had never occurred to her. If by some bizarre turn of events he had asked her while she was unattached, she wouldn't have thought of declining him. Realistically there would only be one option.

"How? He's a Boffin. He's the eldest son. He's going to be the head of his line…"

"It's not about status alone. I was referring to his character."

She scowled as confusion was overwhelmed by hot indignation. "What's wrong with his character?"

"Would you like the exhaustive list or just the main points?"

She turned away haughtily. "Neither, thank you. So…" She glanced at him nervously. "Standing isn't of very great importance in a match, then? In your view?"

"I didn't say that. I don't want to see you married to a… Berkeley, or a Thorn."

"I haven't heard of either of those families," she said.

"Precisely."

"Oh." For a brief moment she had seen an image of herself sitting beside Rob in the drawing room with her family all around. It was silly, she realised now.

They had reached the stile. Bandobold was indeed waiting there and he chided them for being so slow while they climbed over.

The shoot went well enough and Tiger Lily was consumed by the old sensations that had made it so difficult to ever leave her bow behind; the night wind on her skin, the thrill of watching her arrow fly into the dark and the touch of the bowstring on her face.

They didn't speak unless necessary, as was usual when they were hunting. But even when they were tramping back with full game nooses slung over their shoulders, Tiger Lily stayed quiet. Hortenbold was preoccupied by Bandobold's excited chattering. By the time there were home Bandobold was tired and Tiger Lily and Hortenbold were left in the hallway while Mrs Took ushered Bandobold to bed.

"Did I upset you by insulting Master Boffin?" Hortenbold said after a protracted silence.

"No."

"All I meant was that standing isn't the only consideration when thinking over a match. I think you could do better than Sango Boffin with regard to character, and possibly with regard to standing as well." He gave her a meaningful look. "You know you're about the same age as the Thain's son? Think of it."

Tiger Lily didn't look at him. This idea made her distinctly uncomfortable but she thought it probably wasn't a good idea to show just how uncomfortable. "I'd rather not. He's missing."

"That's not the point. If I were your father I would have made my plans long ago."

"You could have made plans for Opal."

"I did make plans for Opal, it's just that none of them involved the Thain's son."

"Why?"

"She's too old for such a match. It would be better if you were a year or two younger than you are, but we can't have everything."

Tiger Lily bit down on the inside of her cheek and it was only after an awkward pause that she could bring herself to say, "Sorry."

"For what? It's your father that should be sorry. But it wouldn't occur to him that he'd done anything wrong."

"I miss him," she said.

"I know," he said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I'm glad he hasn't made plans," she said, shrugging the hand away to show she was all right. "It would be awful being married to the Thain. All those people depending on you… I couldn't manage it."

He laughed. "Who do you think your servants and children will depend on?"

"I… um…" It was all she could do not to start trembling as the reality of it set in. Expectant faces turned to her, believing that she knew what was best…

"At any rate," Uncle Hortenbold said briskly, "now that Opal is settled I can turn my attention to finding a suitable mate for you."

Tiger Lily tensed her shoulders uncomfortably. "Opal isn't settled yet. Surely she could do better than Buffo."

He raised an eyebrow. "His father's head of the Bunces."

"But what about his character?"

"Nothing concerns me in that area. When Opal is married and times are happier, I thought Mertensia and I could start taking you with us on our summer visits to Tookland. How would you feel about that?"

Tiger Lily fidgeted. It was like the air was filled with pins that made simply being in that room painful. "I really don't think I could face being married to the Thain, Uncle. He wouldn't want me anyway."

"There's no harm in trying. And you do have other cousins, you know. There's Adalgrin, Filoric, Adelbrand… Not Hildiwin."

In spite of herself, Tiger Lily's curiosity was piqued by this. "Why not?"

"He was begotten out of marriage. And his mother lives apart from his father. You don't want him."

"I see." She cleared her throat. "Though I wasn't expecting to be married very soon."

"No. It's not quite time yet." His eyebrows drew together in concern. "I'm just a little worried that you'll need help finding someone, and I'd like to know you're safe and settled while I'm still head of the line."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm very old, as you've sometimes had occasion to point out. When I'm gone you'll only have your father to help and I don't have great hopes for him." He sighed as Tiger Lily glared at him as hard as she could. "I know you're fond of him, and that's admirable, but he has rather let you down in this area. He could have tried to introduce you to the Thain's son before now, but he didn't. I would have introduced you myself at Pan's accession, if you hadn't started snivelling when I introduced you to the Thain."

Tiger Lily coloured with embarrassment. "There were a lot of people there! I was nervous!"

"When Aferbold spends his days shut up in his study he doesn't benefit anyone but himself. He's made no effort to connect with other families, never mind the Tooks. You want to make a good marriage for yourself and the family, don't you?"

Tiger Lily sighed as she relented. "Of course I do, Uncle. I'm sorry for being difficult." She smiled. "I know you know what's best."

Meg sat on the ground, hugging her legs, her chin rested on her knees. Granger, usually punctual to the point of irritation, was late. Very late. By now the labourers of Boffin's Farm (they still called it so, even though this name wasn't accurate anymore) had come to expect the new farmer's absence, and dutifully followed the orders given to them through Granger. But there was growing unrest; a sense that his abandonment of the farm was a sign of disdain and a feeling that he didn't appreciate the hours they put into the land. If he did care then why wouldn't he give orders directly to their faces? This was compounded by the fact that it was now common knowledge that Mr Sackville-Baggins was the root of the shortages, though some people were starting to become accustomed to them. It was odd, Meg thought, what hardships people could become accustomed to.

They were gathered outside the farmhouse as usual. The new granaries were stood a little way off, conspicuously clean and looking out of place next to the old one. They were nasty, tarred things built to Mr Sackville-Bagginses specifications, but even they had simply become just another part of the farm.

"Thirty bloody years I've worked with 'im," Mr Delver muttered. "You only have to be five minutes behind for him to give an earful. I swear the best of the morning's gone. When he gets here I'm going to…"

"Jonson's back," Meg said, casting a cautious eye on the twins and Martin, who looked very eager to hear what would be said next.

Jonson had wandered away out of boredom but now he was coming back at a jog.

"What's happened, lad?" Mr Delver called across the field to him.

"Granger's down in east field," Jonson said, slightly out of breath, "talking to the Big Folk what've been staying there. He don't look happy, Dad, he's full red in the face. But they're coming up this way now."

Jonson re-joined his siblings and tried to look as though he had always been there. Not long after this Granger appeared over the curve of the hill, tiny next to the Men walking behind him. Meg stood up sharply when she saw the look on his face. It wasn't a look you sat down for.

When they stopped outside the farmhouse Granger looked like someone escorted there against his will. Meg got the sense that the Men were stood over him to make sure he said the right things.

"Now," Granger said, addressing the assembly in general, "Mr Sackville-Baggins understands that many of you have been doing work that's outside of your usual element and he thanks you for it."

"Where is he then?" Mr Delver called from the crowd.

The Men looked at Mr Delver and shifted their stances threateningly. Granger cleared his throat and said, "He regrets that he cannot be here, sir, but his work keeps him in Hobbiton."

"If he be such a hard worker, where's all his wheat?" said someone else.

"You'd do well to speak when you're spoken to," a Man said, stepping forward. He had a heavy club in his hands, easily big enough to knock a Hobbit down. Meg watched the club as the talk continued around her. Sweat prickled over her skin and her heart was beating so hard that she felt faint. There was no escape from this.

"I'm sure Mr Sackville-Baggins has it all in hand," Granger said quickly. "Regardless, it's his wish that the land you've cleared be used for houses and he's asked that some of you help with the building of—"

"We are not masons!" Mr Delver said. "Taking up tree stumps is one thing, we do that in the fields here, but it's not our job to build houses."

There was an affirmative cry from the assembled Hobbits. Meg searched around for Jack and found him stood silent, his arms folded across his chest. He was the only one that didn't look surprised.

"My lads are not breaking their backs doing work they've not been trained for," her father shouted, nearly frothing at the mouth.

The Man with the club walked forward. In spite of their earlier defiance the Hobbits scurried to move out of his way.

"Do I need to give a report of you to Master Lotho?" the Man said, glaring a Mr Delver with unveiled disdain.

"No need for that," Granger said, pushing his way through to Mr Delver. "I'll talk to him."

He put a hand on Mr Delver's back to usher him away from the Man.

"Jon, leave off," he said in a low whisper.

"This ain't right," Mr Delver replied, somewhat louder.

"For goodness sake, think of your family."

"It's them I'm fighting for."

"And what'll your Joy say when you come home to tell 'er you've lost your place?" Granger said. "What's your plan then, eh?"

Mr Delver winced, and covered his face with a well-worn hand. "I have to do something, Geldred."

"It's not forever." Granger glanced around at the Man and lowered his voice further. "At least wait until winter's done."

Mr Delver groaned, and nodded.

Granger clapped him on the shoulder. "Good lad."

"Right," a Man said. "Them that's to so the building will come with me. Only those that'll be useful. None that's old or young. You," he said, giving Rob's shoulder a shove "Stand over there."

Rob looked uncertainly to Mr Delver, who nodded, and he walked – docile – to where the Man had pointed. Jonson and Jack were also chosen soon afterwards. Meg was surprised when a large hand was put on her shoulder and she was forced to spin around and face the owner. The Man looked her up and down before shoving her to one side. "You'll do."

Meg hadn't expected any lasses to be chosen.

"Who'll mind the little'uns?" she said in her state of bewilderment.

He was already assessing another worker and either didn't hear her or didn't care enough to respond. Knowing that saying anything more would be foolish, she walked stiffly over to the others. In the end most of the workers were chosen to go with the Men. Poppy, the twins and Martin were the only Delvers to be left behind. As she and the others were led away Meg glanced back to see them watching in a cluster, looking very small and fragile in the big world. For the first time, she was truly glad that Clover had left the farm.

The Hill lay stark against the sky. Around the top were the score or so of Men that could usually be found around Bag End these days. There were the beginnings of a stone structure in the garden. Tiger Lily and Sango were watching from a verge while their ponies grazed and Balbus Boffin sat huddled under several layers of winter coats.

"Do you know… I've rather gone off Cousin Lotho," Sango said.

"I'm sorry," Tiger Lily said.

"He was never one of my favourite cousins. I've always dreaded his and Aunt Lobelia's visits. She loves Rico. Hates me."

Tiger Lily leaned her head against his shoulder. "I like you."

He chuckled. "I'd question your taste but—"

"There's no 'but' about it," Balbus said, his voice muffled from under the coats.

"Thank you, dear coz," Sango said.

"You're welcome."

"What news from Bywater?" he said, ignoring Balbus.

"There are a lot of houses being built along Bywater Road," Tiger Lily said.

"I've seen them." Sango sighed and rested his chin in his hand. "I don't like how everything's changing."

"Everything has to. Eventually."

They looked out over the new mill. Unfinished but well under construction.

"It seems like such a long time since we've sat and talked like this," Sango said. "How are you managing with us apart?"

"You've been gone?"

He snorted.

"I'm managing better than I thought I would," Tiger Lily said. "Much better, in fact."

"Good." He smiled sadly at her. "I was worried you wouldn't be. I miss Bywater."

"Sorry."

"Why? You didn't do anything."

"Just generally sorry."

"I'm still not sure all Men could be like this, you know?" he said conversationally. "Beren was a Man."

"Yes, I'm sure he was."

On an impulse Tiger Lily took his hat off and put it on her own head. It was too big but there was still a crescent of light under the rim.

"It suits you," he said dryly.

"My ears were cold."

"You'll be wearing foot coverings next."

"Maybe I will."

Sango laughed and pushed the rim of the hat up to uncover her eyes, slowly revealing his face to her, like the dawn of a new day. "Don't change," he said.

This surprised her and she frowned. "What?"

"You said everything has to change. I hope that doesn't apply to you."

Tiger Lily looked away at the Hill again. She liked the idea of change. Not necessarily all change, but in particular she liked the idea of changing in herself; becoming someone else. She was already changing. She could feel it, like ground sliding away from beneath her feet. She wasn't sure if there was anything she could do to stop it now, even if she wanted to.

Meg had been avoiding the Hobbles' house since Nick had broken with her. Now she couldn't put off seeing Lavender anymore and Clover hand strong-armed her into going together, making sure to tell Meg how childish she was being. When they arrived only Lavender was there. She said she would offer the Delver's tea, but they hadn't been able to get any for three days.

"Why is he wanting to build, do you know?" Clover said when Meg had explained the reason for her dusty dress and grazed hands.

"Somewhere for the Men to live?" Meg hazarded. "They need somewhere to go, an' it's not like they can fit anywhere else."

"So they're here forever?"

Meg hadn't considered that and her spirits sunk to hear it. The Men had shouted at them when they had started their work with clumsy, unsure movements. She had still been hoping that everything would go back to normal one day. Maybe not…

"It's not that bad," Meg said.

Lavender looked hard at her. "What do you mean 'it's not that bad'? There's no bread."

"Well that's not 'cus of the Big Folk, is it?"

"They work for Lotho Sackville-Baggins, and Lotho Sackville-Baggins is the one what's brought about the shortages," Clover said. "They're part of it."

"But they're not—"

The door to the workshop opened and Meg cursed internally when Nickon walked in. He started when he saw her.

"Afternoon, lasses," he said, smiling desperately.

"Nick," Meg said, suddenly very interested in the grain of the wood on the table top.

"How's, uh, how's Jack?"

This question took Meg by surprise. "You've not seen 'im yourself?"

"Not much of late. We had a bit of a fight. An' I don't like to come round to yours after…"

"You mustn't feel embarrassed about coming over. We're grown-ups, ain't we?"

Clover looked hard at her sister but was firmly ignored. You hypocrite, Meg.

"Guess so," Nickon said. "Listen, it's my birthday on Friday. Can't really have a party here with all the shortages. Everyone'd go home hungry and sober. Not sure which is worse." He laughed nervously. "So I was thinking I'd steal your idea an' have a gathering down in the Dragon. It was a really good thought of yours."

"It was Lavender's thought, not mine."

"Oh… Wouldn't've expected her to think of it."

"Charming," Lavender muttered, sipping her water.

Uncharacteristically, Nickon didn't rise to this. He seemed preoccupied, incessantly tapping his fingers against the back of his hand. "Uh… You can come. Only if you want to. Or you, Clover. Or any Delvers. Maybe not the little'uns."

This seemed to perk Meg up considerably. "Aye. That'd be lovely, wouldn't it, Clove?"

Clover smiled faintly, but didn't speak. She didn't draw any attention to this exchange until they had left the Hobbles, deciding it would be wise to leave it until they were out of earshot. Meg was walking slightly a few steps ahead of her and finally Clover couldn't be quiet any longer.

"You sure you want to go to the Dragon on Nick's birthday?" she said.

"Aye. Why wouldn't I?"

Clover gave her a look that could wither a tree. "You honestly need me to explain?"

"Folk can still be on good terms after they've broken," Meg said.

Clover wasn't friends with any of her old lovers because all of her courtships had ended when she'd realised that the lad was an ass and not worth her time. That was how she remembered them, at least.

"They can…" she said carefully. "But you're being funny about it."

"I'm not being funny about it."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"One minute you're avoiding 'im, next you're tripping over yourself to go to his birthday." Clover paused to let her point sink in. "You're being funny."

Meg sighed and came to a standstill. She had an odd, vague smile on her face. "It's nothing you need worry about."

Clover studied her sister's expression as carefully as she could; the turn of the mouth and the misty eyes. She groaned as realisation dawned. "Oh, no…"

"What?"

"You're not thinking of trying to mend things with him?"

Meg stepped away, folding her arms defensively. "Why shouldn't I? He obviously wants to mend things or else he wouldn't've invited me to his birthday."

"As a friend," Clover said, still not able to believe what she was hearing. "Why are you being like this, Meg? By Er—"

"Don't!" Meg put her hand over Clover's shoulder, squeezing so hard it hurt. "We don't use His name like that, you understand?"

Clover glared at Meg as hard as she could, willing her eyes to burn a hole into her sister's head. She considered trying to say it again, just to spite her, but decided this wasn't the time. "Why in your right mind would you want that lad to take you back?"

"I wasn't good enough before," Meg said simply. "I'll be better this time."

"You make me want to tear my own hair out sometimes!" Clover said. "You're such a fool!"

"I'm grown, I can do as I will."

"That don't mean you should!" Clover paused to get her breath back. "Tell me what happened with Winden."

Meg's angry expression immediately changed to one of indifference. It was forced, Clover knew. No one could switch their temper off that quickly.

"We broke off," Meg said before turning away.

"But why?" She stood in Meg's path to block her way. "I think you've gone wrong somewhere and I reckon it's all to do with him. You are going to tell me what happened, because I am sick of you being like this and refusing all help that comes your way."

Meg smiled a frustratingly calm smile. "There's naught to tell you of."

She walked away, tall and sedate. Clover fumed where she stood as months of frustration bubbled to the surface.

"I'll work it out," she called. "You know I can."

Meg stopped and turned. Her face was blank. "I told you, there's nothing to work out. No point putting that head of yours of waste."

Clover watched Meg go. Her resolve had hardened to stone. She had tried to be kind and it hadn't worked. Nothing had worked with Meg. She knew she could find out what had happened.

Jack stared at the sky from his seat on the front step. The stars were just coming out; tiny pinpricks in the velvet sky above. He missed smoking. When the leaf had first run out he'd felt like tearing his own limbs off. Now that feeling had dulled and he just missed the ceremony of the whole thing. It gave you something to do while you went over your thoughts. Now there was nothing to do but stare and feel the ache of his arms.

"Meg home yet?"

He looked lazily at Clover, who was leaning over the garden fence. She had a hungry look about her, and not the kind Hobbits usually had.

"The fine lady has deigned to visit us, has she?" he said. "Aye. Meg was back an hour since."

"I think she's gone wrong."

"What?"

"She's gone wrong. I'm not sure how or why exactly, but she has an' I need you to tell me why."

"What?" Jack said again, unable to think of any other reply. He felt his spirit wilting when Clover told him about Meg and Nick. This wasn't fair. He hadn't asked to be dragged into any of this. And somehow the knowledge that he had done nothing wrong wasn't enough to get rid of the guilty feeling in his stomach. "Why me?" he said weakly, to both Clover and himself.

"'Cus I'm not here to keep an eye on her anymore and you're the one I have the most faith in."

"I don't know what's up with her," Jack said. "You're who I'd ask."

"Then I need to figure out what's wrong, 'cus I can't be doing with this. It's got to do with Winden Hale, I think."

"How much would we have to pay Winden to take her back? For our sanity?" he said.

"More than we can afford," Clover said. "But why did they break it off?"

"People break off. It happens."

"An' you'd know that, would you?"

Jack scowled at her. "Just 'cus I've never courted, that doesn't mean I don't understand how it works. I've had all you lot bothering me with your problems for years. Mostly Jonson." He took a deep breath as a dozen post-break conversations passed through his memory like fog. "And anyway, we've been through this before. He left 'cus he promised to marry her when she came of age – apparently – an' knew he had to make good or bolt."

"Don't know about that…" Clover said. "If he said he wanted to wait to get wed, Meg would have pretended she didn't mind and agreed to a longer betrothal."

"You don't know that."

"I know people."

"You're not any better than the rest of us."

This stunned Clover into silence for a moment. Then her expression became keen again, so subtly that anyone who didn't know her well wouldn't have noticed. She tilted her head to one side slightly. "Nick said you'd had a falling out."

Jack suddenly couldn't stand to look at her anymore and turned his head away, hoping there was nothing incriminating on his face. "Aye."

"Want to tell me why?"

"None of your business."

"Fair enough." She looked down at her hands. "I reckon I know how people work is all. I think there was something else that drove Meg and Winden apart. I might be wrong. Or I might not be. I keep thinking about the day of the festival. She was so happy. I think that might've been the last day she was actually happy."

Jack leaned back. "Don't remember that. I remember her whinging about being tired."

"She winded herself trying to catch up to me when I left early. I remember…" She closed her eyes.

Jack closed his eyes too and shuddered. When he opened them again Clover had paled. Her eyes were wide and she was staring at an invisible point past Jack's shoulder.

"What?" he said.

"Nothing… I'll see you another day." And with that she was off, as abruptly as she had arrived.

Jack rose from the step and called after her but she didn't respond. He sighed, his breath rising as steam, and looked up at the sky again. He'd heard once that Elves worshipped the stars. He wasn't sure why. Candles were more useful, and people had made them. Not some distant Holy One that he wasn't even sure existed, but mere people, with all their flaws.

It was just a shame the people he knew had too many flaws to make the candles worthwhile.