It was with mild distress that Tiger Lily watched another carriage being loaded up—the second in one week. That was two more than was usual.

"You needn't look so resentful," Uncle Hortenbold said out of the corner off his mouth.

She glared up at him. "I am not resentful."

"You could sour milk with those eyes."

She turned her face towards the carriage again, scowling and gripping her skirts. The morning was too cold. She had been surprised when she learned Opal and Aunt Mertensia were still going to Michel Delving with Buffo. She had assumed that they wouldn't be, with three of their kin lost in the wild. Opal had told her very bluntly that there was nothing they could do, so they might as well go. None of which Tiger Lily could argue with. Buffo was helping Opal into the carriage. She folded her arms and scowled harder.

"I think that's everything," Aunt Mertensia said, emerging from the smial in her travelling coat and hat. "You'll manage without us, won't you?"

"I'll cope but I won't thrive," Uncle Hortenbold said and gave her a peck on the cheek.

Aunt Mertensia laughed and looked over at Tiger Lily's mother. "Make sure he doesn't become a recluse."

"I'll do my best."

"Are you ready then, Mistress Mertensia?" Buffo said, approaching the Tooks with his usual air of pompous authority.

"I think so, Buffo."

He offered his arm to her, which she accepted.

"Look after my lasses, won't you, Bunce?" Uncle Hortenbold said.

"I wouldn't consider myself a gentlehobbit if I didn't. Farewell, Mistress Peony. Miss Tiger Lily."

"I hope you have a nice time," Tiger Lily's mother said.

Tiger Lily feigned a smile and said nothing.

"We'll see you in a fortnight, darling," Aunt Mertensia said as Buffo helped her step up into the carriage.

Uncle Hortenbold sighed as the carriage rattled off down the lane. "I remember this feeling. Bachelorhood."

"Don't talk like that. I'll not suffer being called a spinster just because Aferbold's out of Bywater. Come along, children," Mrs Took said. "Mr Booker will be arriving soon. You're free to come to our smial this evening if you're feeling lonely, Hortenbold."

"I'll consider it."

Tiger Lily started to follow her mother and Bandobold back towards their smial, but they were halted again almost immediately.

"Peony?"

Young Mrs Grubb was stood by her garden fence. "Mertensia told me about Aferbold," she said, adjusting the basket she held in the crook of her arm. "I was going to drop by later to see how you all were."

"That's so kind," Mrs Took said. "We're all right, you know."

"Good. But you know we're here if you need anything." She momentarily looked to the ground. "The loss of a father is… not pleasant."

It was Tiger Lily's first thought. Fleeting and stupid. "Father's not dead," she said.

Young Mrs Grubb's expression froze in disbelief, and her mother was pinching the bridge of her nose. Tiger Lily turned her hot face towards the ground, hoping it would swallow her. It didn't. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" She couldn't raise her voice above a whisper.

"Apology accepted," Young Mrs Grubb said briskly, brushing past them. "I must be on my way."

Tiger Lily looked at her mother, shamefaced. Mrs Took sighed, her disappointment evident in her expression. "Let's go home, shall we?"

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Don't be an ass." Jack drew from the pipe and blew out some smoke. "I don't get why you won't go. You go down the Dragon often enough, why not go on the ninth? What you got planned?"

"Not much."

"Why, then?"

Nickon looked at Jack as though this were the stupidest question he could have asked. They were leaning either side of the doorway to his father's workshop. "You like spending time with your little sisters' friends, do you?"

"I thought you liked Meg."

"She's fine. Here, give me the pipe."

Jack put his mouth to the pipe again, drawing in as much smoke as possible before handing it back to Nickon. He parted his lips and smoke streamed out of his mouth. "She's had a hard time of late. Throw 'er a bone, Nick."

Nickon drew from the pipe and then leaned forward to blow smoke in Jack's face. Jack scowled at him with watering eyes as Nickon leaned back, an irritatingly satisfied grin spread across his face. "I ain't obligated to humour her," he said.

"Bloody dog," Jack choked. "I don't get why she wants you there."

"A lady of good taste," Nick said, putting the stem of the pipe between his teeth.

Jack sneered. "Right. Winden Hale and you: the two most righteous Hobbits in the Shire."

"I like Winden."

"You shouldn't."

Nickon looked over his shoulder at a third lad who was stood a few feet away with his back to the wall; denied the inner circle of the doorway and the pipe, he instead had his hands cupped around a steaming mug of tea. "What d'you reckon to Winden?"

The lad shrugged and made a noncommittal mumbling noise as he sipped his tea.

"Very helpful," Jack said. "Give me another go on the pipe." He made a grab for it, but Nickon jerked it out of his reach.

"My bloody pipe," he said.

"It's… Uh… It is, in fact, my leaf," the third lad said.

"Mmm," Nickon said as he drew from the pipe, not taking his eyes off Jack in case he made another attempt to take it. "Why don't you head inside and get some more leaf, Atkin? We need a top-up."

"You said you didn't have any leaf," Atkin said desperately.

"Now I'm saying I do," Nickon said.

Atkin sighed and went to the door to the house. Jack didn't remove his eyes from Nickon, watching him as though he were a wild animal. Nickon's own expression didn't change from the usual self-satisfied one of a lad who knew he was in control. When they heard the door shut behind Atkin he said, "Mayhap I will go. Reckon Meg appreciates me more'n you do."

"Don't take it personal, she likes everyone."

Nickon turned his face away to look over the road, but continued to watch Jack from the corner of his eye. "You going?" he said offhandedly.

Jack shifted so that only his shoulder was leaning against the doorframe. "Obviously."

"No need for that tone. I never go near our Lavender's birthday parties."

"Meg and Lavender're different," Jack said, his gaze drifting listlessly out over the green hills that filled the horizon. "Meg's sort've… breakable." His eyes snapped back to Nickon when he heard him snigger. "What's funny?" he snapped.

"Everyone's breakable," Nickon said. "If you find the breaking point."

Jack turned away again and scowled. "Have a lot of experience breaking people, do you?"

"I was just saying."

"Well, don't."

"I'm breakable," Nickon said, smiling affably. "Breakable as anyone. That make you feel better?"

"No."

There was a clatter as Atkin re-emerged from the house, disgruntled. "There wasn't any leaf," he said.

"My mistake," Nickon said lightly, looking in the bowl of the pipe. "But looking at it now, I don't reckon there was much of a need for a top-up anyway. Here, lad," he said, handing Atkin the pipe. "Enjoy."

Atkin looked at him reproachfully, but wiped the mouthpiece on his sleeve and put the pipe in his mouth.

Jack sighed. "Is this what we've come to? Fighting over leaf?"

"Hopefully they'll have some more in a day or two," Atkin said.

Nickon folded his arms across his chest. "You fancy going down the Dragon on the ninth, Atkin?"

Atkin shrugged timidly. "I could, perhaps. Depending."

"Depending on your mum?"

Atkin stared fixedly at the ground, not saying anything.

Nickon snickered and shoved him playfully. "Those apron strings are still taut, ain't they? I'm sure we can find a way to smuggle you out, can't we, Jack?"

Jack had been listening to their exchange with a rising sense of irritated hopelessness. Being pulled back into the conversation was more than he could take. "I don't care," he said. "I need to get back to work, and I don't care no more. Have a nice afternoon, because you won't be seeing me."

Nickon groaned as Jack started to walk up the road. "Jack…"

Jack scowled over his shoulder at Nickon. "I hate you."

"Look, I'll go if it matters that much to you."

Jack didn't hesitate or turn around, but made a hand gesture in Nickon's direction.

Nickon growled and kicked at the doorpost. "He's like a bloody cat. Impossible to make him do nothing he don't want to…"

Atkin's eyebrows drew together, unsure of whether this was being said to him, or just around him as was so often the case. "Um…"

The door to the workshop opened and Lavender put her head around. Her apron was covered in wood dust. "Move yourself, Nick, there's work to be done."

"As you say." Nickon took the pipe from Atkin's hands without further comment and disappeared into the workshop, closing the door behind.

Atkin stood in stunned silence for a moment, wondering why he—in a general sense—bothered. Then he sighed and turned to walk back into town, hands in pockets. Lunchtime was nearly over, and his mother would be expecting him back at the shop.

Tiger Lily heard her mother's sharp intake of breath through her teeth as she hit a high key. She looked over her shoulder and saw Mrs Took dipping her quill in the inkpot.

"Could you try it a little lower? You're setting my teeth on edge."

Tiger Lily lifted her hands from the keys. In a moment of thoughtless rebellion she brought down a low dissonant chord.

Mrs Took flinched again. "There was no need for that."

"Sorry." She looked sadly over her shoulder. "I've been told that one should use music to express one's inner feelings."

"That's as may be, but it wouldn't do very well if a musician at a party only played sad songs just because she felt sad." She cast her daughter a concerned look. "What's troubling you?"

"Father's gone. Opal's gone. And Sango's going."

"Opal will be back in two weeks, and hopefully Father will be back soon. And Sango's not going as far away as all that."

"That's still far enough."

Mrs Took sighed, her voice dripping sympathy. "I know. It's such a shame… But I do wonder if part of your aversion to Opal's trip is because of the company she's in."

Tiger Lily scowled at the sheet music as she tried a tricky line again. "I don't like Buffo."

"Yes, you've made your opinion on that point quite clear. You're going to have to reach some sort of truce with him, and soon. Uncle Hortenbold believes he suggested this trip so he can acquire an opal."

Tiger Lily grimaced. It was traditional (if not strictly necessary) for a lad to present a lass with her name-flowers when making a formal proposal of marriage. After having sought her parents' permission, of course. This was done because most lasses chose to carry or wear their name-flower on their wedding day, and the gift was symbolic of the actual flowers she would need. Over time the tradition had expanded to include jewels, as in Opal's case. Any lad wishing to propose to a lass who wasn't named after a flower or gem would have to get creative. Tiger Lily recalled Sango wondering how he would propose to Lorna Goodenough, who he had believed was his one true love for a time.

"I still don't have to like him, even if he will be kin," Tiger Lily said.

"He already is kin."

Tiger Lily's hands froze on the keyboard. "What?"

"My mother was a Bunce. Don't you ever listen?" Mrs Took said, examining one of the receipts that littered the bureau. "I swear you know that family tree in the morning room by heart, but you never take the least bit of interest in my family. The Hornblowers may not be as exciting as the Tooks, but that doesn't mean we should be disregarded entirely."

"Sorry, Mother." She sought for some way to make it right, at least for the time being. She had never been overly fond of her uncles on her mother's side, who had long ago dismissed her father as a simpleton, and resented him for taking their little sister so far away from home. Their sons had been difficult to befriend, as they were all either much older or younger than herself. Their wives were nice most of the time, and were kind to her father, but they had Views on the Tooks, which they made clear through glances, if not words.

"How are Uncle Winto and Uncle Willo?" she said, hoping that asking this would go some way to amending her disregard.

"All well, dear, last time they wrote," Mrs Took said. "Little Ella's gotten over that fever."

"Good."

"Does this mean you'll start to warm up to Mr Bunce?"

Tiger Lily sniffed. "He's too old for her."

Mrs Took glanced up from the account book with scrupulous eyes. "You're aware," she said, "that the difference in ages between Opal and Mr Bunce is a little less than the difference between myself and your father. And I believe it's not too different from the gap between Uncle Hortenbold and Aunt Mertensia."

"Well— Well yes, but—" Tiger Lily wasn't sure how to phrase this politely. "With regard to proportions…"

Mrs Took gave her a withering look. "I wasn't born at sixty. I was thirty-five when we married." She straightened her back, holding her head up proudly. "Quite the catch, if I do say so myself."

Tiger Lily thought about this, and then said, "But why did you all seek husbands so much older than yourselves?"

Mrs Took sighed again and looked back down at the account book open before her. "Oh, I don't know, dear. When you're young it's hard not to be charmed by a dashing gentlehobbit in his forties when it feels like all the lads your own age are fools and roisterers. Unless you prefer lads of that sort, of course." She cast a meaningful glance at her daughter.

Tiger Lily's first instinct was to insist that Sango wasn't really a fool and wasn't as much of a roisterer as some other lads. Then she realised that would be falling into the trap and remained silent.

Her mother turned her eyes away again and continued, "I suppose it all seemed like rather a good idea at the time. That's usually how these things come about. You must understand a little bit, I've seen your copy of Tales from the South Farthing." Tiger Lily tensed, and she suddenly became more interested in the piano than she'd ever been before. Mrs Took noticed and laughed. "There's no need to look so worried, but Mr Booker is much older than you."

"I was very young," Tiger Lily said, keeping her eyes on the music.

"Well, only you know when you wrote it. Though if I recall correctly, you would have already been a tweenager when we started hiring Mr Booker."

"Yes, all right." She brought down an incorrect chord that made her wince. She twisted around on the stool. "But he had the darkest dark eyes, and his Buckland accent… And he was always so nice to me."

"I don't know why you're speaking in the past tense when none of those attributes have changed, but I concede the point. What I was really getting at is that you know the allures an older Hobbit can have for a young lady."

"It was a girlish fancy," Tiger Lily said, increasingly flustered. "I never actually thought… I just liked to pretend sometimes." Currently of most concern was that among the variations of 'Mrs Booker' she'd written on the inside cover of Tales, there were one or two variations on 'Mrs Boffin'. There was no doubt in her mind that if her mother had seen the cover she would have noticed and remembered this fact. If Mrs Took did remember this she didn't mention it, but there was a particular expression on her face.

Tiger Lily didn't want to fall down that particular rabbit hole, and this conversation was treading a little too close to the edge for her liking. She tried to steer it back on course. "But don't most married couples only have a year or two between them?"

"Yes, usually."

"Then why do all the couples in our family—"

"I honestly don't know, dear," Mrs Took said in a voice that showed she wouldn't tolerate any further questions on this topic. "Perhaps it's something to do with you all being Tooks. Another singularity no one warned me about." She gave a slight roll of the eyes.

Tiger Lily let this lie for a while, then said, "Mother, may I ask you a question?"

"That's all you've been doing since we sat down. You've just asked another one, in fact."

"This one might be more difficult to answer."

"Then I shall answer as best I can or not at all."

"Why did you marry Father?"

At this Mrs Took laughed. "Because I loved him, of course. What other reason is there?"

"It's just that you and he always seemed so distant. From each other, I mean. And you're always talking about how you don't like the Tooks, and you said that older gentlehobbits are dashing, but I can't imagine Father ever being dashing."

Mrs Took smiled to herself. "You're right there. He never was very dashing. Hortenbold was, but Father was more sweet and peculiar. He was nervous speaking to me, like a lad in the first bloom of youth. He talked my ears off about folklore." There was a slight touch of pink on the tips of her ears as the memory of that particular Overlithe was brought to mind. "You know, your grandparents thought he would never marry. He was so shy, and content to be alone." She smiled and rose to her feet, patting Tiger Lily on the head as she walked past. "So there's hope for you yet, my girl."

But I'm not content to be alone, Tiger Lily thought. At least, I don't think I am. "But then why are you so distant?" she said, twisting around so she could keep facing her mother.

"We've been married nearly thirty years, you know," her mother said, taking a piece of paper from a drawer. "You can't expect us to still behave like newlyweds."

Tiger Lily looked at the floor as her mother returned to her seat. "So it doesn't matter if you marry someone you love or not, because what love you have will dwindle anyway."

Mrs Took sighed as she returned to her seat. "I know you're at a difficult age. You feel like a grown-up, and you're starting to worry about your future, but really you are still a child. No one is going to make you marry a Hobbit much older than yourself. Marry one younger than yourself if you really must. And we certainly shan't be marrying you off until you're of age. You're not the sort."

"Not the sort for what?"

"Nothing you need worry yourself about."

Tiger Lily looked imploringly at her mother. At least she'd gotten this far without being denied an answer. "Please, Mother."

"I'll tell you when—"

"When I'm married?"

"Yes."

"You'll have so many answers to give me after I'm married I shan't have time to do anything for at least a week."

"Yes." Her mother gave her an odd look. "Some I'll give you a day or two before the wedding."

Tiger Lily's heart lightened for a moment and she smiled mischievously. "Which ones?"

"I'm certainly not telling you that." She stared into space for a moment. "I suppose we could marry you off early if you found an exceptional match. But that's not very likely, is it?"

The smile disappeared. There had been no trace of accusation or criticism in her mother's tone. She was simply stating an objective fact. It might as well have been, 'the sky is blue'. Tiger Lily turned around on the stool again, bringing her back to facing the piano. "No." She pressed down on one of the keys despondently. "Isn't there any possibility of my marriage being loving?"

"My marriage is loving. I love your father, and I'm glad I married him. But when you spend every day with one person their little irritating habits gnaw at you, and it becomes a matter of just plodding on, day by day."

Tiger Lily thought about this. She didn't like the idea of plodding on. "What's the point of marriage, then?"

"Don't say that," her mother said sharply.

"Why?"

"I'm not answering any more silly questions."

"But why don't we just move from sweetheart to sweetheart as we please?"

Mrs Took glared at her from across the room. "I'll send you to your room if you don't be quiet."

"But why?"

"This is your final chance."

Tiger Lily sighed heavily and turned to the sheet music again. "Yes, Mother." She couldn't stand to look at the Yule carol anymore, and searched through sheet music in the piano stool until she found a May dance. Unseasonal but pretty. She set it on the music stand and began to play.

It was a short time later that a maidservant came in to announced that Master Boffin had arrived.

"Oh, that's lovely," Mrs Took said. "Send him in."

Tiger Lily immediately ceased playing and looked over her shoulder as Sango arrived with his typical bouncy step.

"Hello, Mrs Took," he said brightly as he took her hand and kissed it. "You look lovely today."

She smiled. "One does one's best."

Sango grinned and approached Tiger Lily. "Shift up, wren."

Tiger Lily scooted along the piano stool to give Sango room to sit beside her, though he faced the other direction, away from the piano. She continued playing when she had settled in her new place—perched rather uncomfortably on the end. She was unable to contain her smile.

He laughed lightly when he heard her. "What are you playing that for? It's the dead of autumn."

"I prefer the spring."

He grinned and leaned back to look up at the ceiling. "Spring is just winter with flowers—the grey and the fog and the drizzle. Give me the summer sun any day."

She pursed her lips in amusement. "I still prefer the spring." When she came to the end of the song she twisted around on the seat so that she and Sango were both facing the same direction. "Besides, it must be the best season, because it's the one we were born in." In childhood Sango had taken much glee from pointing out that he was one year and nine days older than Tiger Lily. The nine days were important.

"Well, I can't argue with that. I suppose if you prefer the spring you won't want to brave the harsh autumn air with me."

"That doesn't make sense. You just admitted you prefer summer."

"Sense is boring. Are you coming?"

"Umm…" Her initial thought was 'yes'. Why wouldn't she? Who else was she going to spend time with? But Opal and Aunt Mertensia were away, and Bandobold was busy with his lessons. She looked over her shoulder at Mrs Took. "Would you like to come with us, Mother? It would give you a break from the accounts."

Mrs Took started in her seat. "Me? Are you sure?"

Glancing at Sango's face Tiger Lily realised it was oddly rigid. She decided to disregard this until later. "Only if you want to."

Her mother smiled and rose from her seat. "That would be lovely, thank you. I'll fetch our cloaks, shall I?"

Sango glared at Tiger Lily as her mother left the room. "What did you do that for?" he whispered.

"I need a chaperone, and Opal's gone to Michel Delving."

"But your mother?" he hissed.

She scowled at him. "Don't you like my mother?"

He rolled his eyes. "Well enough, but I don't call on you so I can spend time with her."

"If you dislike her then why do you fawn over her?"

"I was not fawning."

She rose to her feet and crossed the room, a hand placed delicately on her chest. "'Oh, Mrs Took, how charming you look today. Oh, Mrs Took, how that colour suits you.'" She looked back at him, her brows drawn together in anger. "It's disgusting, a lady of her age."

"I was being chivalrous," he said, getting to his feet alongside her.

"Oh, so you were lying."

"It's not really lying. Ladies like to feel that they're younger than they are."

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

"Umm…" Mrs Took said from the doorway, where she was holding two cloaks. Both Sango and Tiger Lily turned their heads towards her. Neither had heard her approach. "A little tiff?" she said.

"A little quarrel," Tiger Lily said firmly, still scowling at Sango. She marched up to her mother and took the proffered cloak, pausing to look back at Sango. "Are you coming, or have you changed your mind?"

He plastered an odd, maddened smile on his face and took her mother by the arm. "Of course I am, sweetling."

The walk was awkward and subdued. Sango and Mrs Took talked animatedly, Sango displaying his usual ability to generate enthusiasm for any topic chosen by another person, regardless of how much interest he had in it outside of the conversation. Tiger Lily said little. She felt constrained by her mother's presence. She knew it was silly. She felt the limit a little bit when they walked with Opal, but at least Opal was closer to their own age and wasn't so much of a stickler for propriety, even if she did chide horribly. Tiger Lily's mother didn't chide (and she certainly wouldn't chide in public), but she would be terribly disappointed, which was far worse than any jibe Opal could come up with. So Tiger Lily stayed silent and restrained.

The other thing was that in her mother's company she and Sango would have to keep at a steady pace and not stray from the paths, and there would be no dallying at swings or ponds or anything else they might come across. With Opal they were allowed this much, though she would scoff at their childishness. But she was only just of age and still tolerated their nonsense to an extent.

Tiger Lily was starting to see Sango's point.

"That was a lovely constitutional," Mrs Took said when they finally returned to the smial.

"It was. I put it down to the company," Sango said cheerfully, but he let go of her arm and hung back as they opened the front door. "Might I have a word with Tiger Lily, Mrs Took? By ourselves."

Mrs Took glanced from one to the other. "If you wish."

She stepped over the threshold, glancing back at the pair as she did. She didn't shut the door behind her. Tiger Lily and Sango watched each other as they listened carefully to the sound of Mrs Took retreating. When they could no longer hear her footsteps Sango opened his mouth to speak, but Tiger Lily interrupted him.

"Rowley, I know it was tiresome. I'm sorry I invited Mother, and I know you weren't fawning or lying, you were just being nice." She hesitated. "Something I'm not very good at…"

Sango frowned at this, opening his mouth uncertainly. "Uh…"

"I said something horrible to Mrs Grubb this morning," Tiger Lily said, her face growing hot at the memory.

"I assume you're talking about Monno's mother, and not his grandmother. I don't think you'd still be alive if it were her." He shuddered. "What did you say?"

"I can't repeat it."

"Oh, you and your foul mouth."

Tiger Lily smiled faintly. "Please don't make fun of me."

"Sorry. I'm going to guess that you did apologise to her, since that's a good portion of what you do."

"Yes. But she was still upset. I think I'm going to have to hide from her from now on."

Sango sighed and folded his arms. "Be nice to her, I'm sure she'll forgive you eventually. Hiding never solved anything."

"I know that."

"I know you do." He sighed. "To put Mrs Grubb aside for a moment, I was going to apologise to you."

She frowned questioningly at him. "What for?"

"Your mother's fine company, and if having her as a chaperone is what you need to protect your reputation, then that's what you need. I shouldn't have made a fuss."

Tiger Lily opened her mouth, but lacking an adequate reply, only sighed. Her eyes flickered to the window of the morning room, and saw her mother's face staring out at them. "She's watching us."

"Really?" Sango turned around to wave to her, at which point she started scratching at an imaginary mark on the windowpane. He turned back around to Tiger Lily, grinning. "I don't think she can hear us. We could make her think we're talking about anything."

Tiger Lily opened her mouth in mock horror and covered her mouth. "I wonder what she thinks now," she said, removing her hands and smiling.

"Probably just that I'm a cad," Sango said looking over his shoulder at the window again. "Could we move away from the window? I'm starting to feel like an ornament."

They walked around to the side of the smial, outside Tiger Lily's bedroom window. She leaned against the fence, but decided against it when she felt the wood shifting under her weight. It was still damp from the rain. "What are we going to do when you move away? I mean, practically speaking, how are we going to manage to see each other?"

Sango shook his head. "It'll be all right."

"How?"

"It just will."

"But how?" she said, frustrated. "You can't just say 'it'll be all right' without giving any reasoning. I can't drag Mother or Opal to Overhill whenever we want to see each other."

"Then I'll come to Bywater," Sango said hotly.

"That's not fair on you."

"I won't mind."

"You will eventually." She went and stood against the wall of the smial, arms folded.

"I'll just have to put up with it. It's not just you, you know. I do have other friends here, and then there's Lavender."

Tiger Lily frowned in thought. Sango would need to divide his newly limited time between them, and if he had made the trouble of journeying all the way to Bywater from Overhill he would want to see as many people as possible. "Why do we only ever fight over silly things?" she said.

Sango shrugged. "It's better than fighting over things that matter, isn't it?"

"But all that wasted energy…"

"You worry too much."

"I'm not disagreeing with you. Not on that point, at least." She swallowed. "Could we go camping?"

He frowned in confusion. "I don't quite understand your thought process. You'll never convince your mother or Opal to camp out with us."

She thought about this for a moment, then said, "I wouldn't need a chaperone if we set out after dark. No one would be able to see that I'm unattended."

He snickered. "Flawless as your logic is, that doesn't change the fact that I hate camping. Especially in October."

"Please?"

"It's October."

"Exactly, so we'd need to go now before it gets even colder. And it's a full moon next week, I think."

"We can go in the spring," he said.

"That's months away. I just need to get out. Away from drawing rooms and people and the empty study." She swallowed. "It's his birthday on Friday. He's going to be all by himself."

"Oh. He'll have the other Tooks and the Brandybucks, though, won't he?"

"He hardly knows any of the Tooks, and even fewer of the Brandybucks." She arranged her features into an expression she hoped was pleading-but-not-too-pathetic. "Please, Rowley? It would make me awfully happy."

At this he groaned and hung his head in defeat. After a short pause he asked, "What day is the full moon?"

She squealed and ran to hug him. "Wednesday. You really are the best of Hobbits, you know."

"Yes, yes, all right," he said, pulling her off him. "And you have the gall to accuse me of fawning, little minx. How did you manage to ensnare me?"

"Pies mostly."

"Ah." He half-smiled. "You know there will be a price to pay?"

"Of course." They started to stroll along the length of the fence, following the little stone path that led between the waning flowerbeds. Tiger Lily walked with one arm extended out to the side to brush her fingers through the damp grass that grew up the side of the smial. "What price, out of interest?"

"You'll find out on Wednesday," he said. "You won't like it."

She smiled wryly. "I will bear the penalty without complaint."

By this point they had come to the long section of fencing that partitioned the garden, marking the separation between the garden proper and the yard that contained the stables and coach house. Though they couldn't see it from this angle, the shed Mr Took and (until recently) Tiger Lily used for making arrows and longbows also stood in the yard. She supposed she should go there at some point to make sure everything was in order. No one would be going in there until her father came back, after all. Beyond the fence two ponies grazed contentedly on the grass.

"Will you stay for tea?" she said.

He squirmed. "I can't, sorry. Me and some of the lads are going to the Green Dragon this evening. Do you fancy coming along? Lavender and one or two other ladies are going to be there, so you wouldn't be unaccompanied."

"I'll let you guess my answer."

"You know," Sango said, leaning on the partition, "if you want to make more friends, you will have to start attending more social gatherings."

Tiger Lily curled her toes uncomfortably. "I will. On a different day. It's too last minute to go this evening."

She could tell from Sango's expression that he wasn't convinced. "All right. But I think we'll be having a party a day or two before me move, and while I shan't force you to go, it would make me awfully happy if you did, and I think it would be to your own benefit to do so. There. You can't accuse me of springing that on you at the last minute."

"We'll see," she said resignedly.

"That's all I ask." He tried to ruffle her hair, but didn't manage very well, with it being pinned down so tightly.

"Stop it," she said, pushing him away. "If you're going to go to an inn, then you'd better do it."

He laughed as Tiger Lily shoved him away. "I'm going, I'm going!" He took light steps towards the same part of the fence he always climbed over to leave.

She remembered a second too late how unstable the fence was. "Rowley—"

There was a yelp, and a moment later Sango was lying on the ground, the remains of that section of the fence lying around him.

"Sorry!" Tiger Lily said, rushing over to him. She took his arm and supported his weight as he got unsteadily to his feet. "Are you hurt?"

"Uh…" He looked down at himself, seemingly more shocked than hurt. He brushed at the mud that covered his waistcoat. It made no difference; his entire front was caked in the stuff. "I don't think so." He examined his grimy hands. They seemed to be free of cuts.

Tiger Lily drew her handkerchief out of her pocket and dabbed at the mud smeared over his cheeks. "Why don't you come in and have a cup of tea?"

"All right," he looked down at the remains of the fence. The planks that used to connect the fence posts had broken in half under his weight, the strain of being used as his ladder over the years having finally taken its toll. The rain had only helped it on its way. "I'll, um… I'll pay for someone to come and fix the fence."

"Don't worry about that now. Come along." She tenderly took his arm, and softly began to lead him back down the garden path.