Prologue
Pippin slowly traced a small circle on Merry's stomach and watched the dustmotes dance in a patch of brilliant morning sun. It really was time to get up and he so didn't wish to. What he really wished to do was find out a lot more about what had happened last night and the many more ways it could happen again. With a sigh, Pippin lifted up on one elbow, kissed Merry lightly on both cheeks, and watched his eyelids flutter open. "You know, Merry, I believe I could learn to enjoy waking up with you." He flipped the blanket down and stared, wide-eyed. "Oh, yes. Especially when you're naked."
"I dare say you would." Merry yawned and then grinned, pulling Pippin to lie against him. "And I dare say as well that I expect to do that very thing every morning for the rest of my life." Their kiss was rough and sweet and lasted for some time. And it was immensely tempting to explore the way things might go, but the sun was far up and there were important things to see to. So, up they must get and to the fore of the battle before the morning was out.
Not only can hobbits move quietly when they need to, but also quickly. "We need to find out whether you're banned from the Hall or not." Merry tucked in the last edge of shirttail and reached for his waiscoat. "Because if you are, then I need to make some plans as soon as possible. We'll need a place to stay when we're in Buckland."
The hampers were all neatly repacked and Pippin sat on the pile of carefully folded blankets, watching Merry finish dressing. His own clothes had been rescued, brushed and donned, none the worse for their scattered state from the previous evening. He was trying to think of all the good news there might be this morning, about Great Aunts and tumbled cakes and back-in-favor Tooks, and failing miserably. If he should have to forego any relations with his Brandybuck cousins, it would be just too much. Most of them were great fun and would, he expected, merely shrug off the debacle of the flying cake with no more thought. But if the Aunts and Uncles, and even Merry's parents (whom Pippin thought of as highly as he did his own), decided to ostracize one very sorry young Took, well...
"Merry, really, what will you do? If they don't ever let me come back? I mean, you can't just move away. They're your family!"
Merry saw the anguish in Pippin's eyes and saw the willingness to do whatever was best as well. Oh, why had he taken so long to see what was right in front him? Stepping quickly across the floor, Merry placed both hands on Pippin's shoulders and shook him. "You. Are. My. Family." He took a deep breath and let it out all at once. "You. Now and for the rest of my life." He laughed softly and shook his head. "I love my relations, most of them anyway, but I didn't have a choice of any of them. But I do with you. You know that. So, come on." He pulled Pippin to his feet. "Let's go brave the lot of them."
Hand in hand and hearts resolved, they headed for Brandy Hall.
To anyone passing near the imposing Brandybuck residence this particular early Autumn morning, one thing would be abundantly clear: it was full to bursting with more hobbits than was perhaps entirely good for the neighborhood. But since the horde of Banks, Bolgers, Bracegirdles, and Burrows, not to mention the Brandybucks, were all gathered in the ancient home and environs of Buckland to celebrate the birthday of so important a relation as Great Aunt Fresythia, the neighborhood was quite prepared to cheerfully make the best of it.
Gathered in one of the Hall's best dining rooms, the late morning risers were treated to a delightfully exceptional brunch, of which not even the most particular of hobbits could complain. There was something here to suit everyone's taste and at no time was there even the merest whisper that the food might run out. Seated at the far corner of one full table sat two figures, very well-dressed and, as some might say, with no stretch left in the seams to fit another mouthfull.
"Mother, have you seen that silly Peregrin Took? He doesn't seem to be anywhere." There was quite a large platter in front of the young lady and the delicacies upon it rose in three layers. "And I so wanted to tell him about the new dress I've made." The bright daub of icing on her nose would have been startling on anyone else, but on her, it seemed somehow appropriate.
Mistress Parsimmon Grubber turned a long-suffering look upon her youngest daughter, who was alternating bites from a fairy cake in her right hand with nibbles from the apple tart in her left. "My dear Pittybel, why ever do you wish to find that young scoundrel? It's quite beyond me why this household tolerates his presence! If they'd take my advice..."
"Now, Mother..." Pittybel swiped a bit of icing from her upper lip with the tip of a thick, pink tongue and swallowed. "Peregrin is almost a Brandybuck, even if it's only through his uncle..." A hefty bite of tart went the way of the fairy cake. "...by marriage." She reached for the glass next to her platter and drank noisily, the stares from those to either side not once impinging upon her singular enjoyment of a late brunch.
Mistress Grubber frowned, her face a globe of disdain. "Daughter, I'll thank you to avoid that sort of talk when I'm eating. Now, more fairy cake, dear, and less of Tooks and marriages."
Brandy Hall, even on its quietest days, could take on the appearance of a small battleground. Not every connexion was entirely pleased to be connected and therefore, breakfast, lunch, supper and all the tide-over meals between could seem at times like the ebb and flow of armies in an effort to maintain the most defensible ground. Strangely enough, this all took place with enormous good cheer, perhaps because everyone dearly loved to tell a tale about everyone else.
But, in and among all of this seething activity, two oases of calm prevailed. One centered around Master Saradoc Brandybuck and his delightful wife, Esmeralda. Between them, they could squelch any impending argument, deter the wayward barb, and quell the determined onslaught. At the moment, they were a bit anxious about Merry. Although he was often gone, out and about with Pippin and his other cousins, he was a dutiful son when home and knew most everything there was to know about the running of such a large household. As an only child, he'd been denied little, and if he chose to stand beside his disgraced cousin, then they would support him with every ounce of breath it required. Of course, if Great Aunt Fresythia should choose not to... Saradoc patted his wife's hand and smiled reassuringly. She hid the other hand and crossed her fingers.
The other oasis of calm centered around the Grand Lady whose birthday so many had gathered to celebrate. There was every reason to expect peace in her vicinity, since no one ever crossed Great Aunt Fresythia. Ever. It was rumored that she ate those who did. (Many of her detractors were want to point to several holes in the family tree and nod knowingly.) She in turn had her favorites (despite the fact that some of her favorites would have preferred not to be had) and for those special few, this center of calm had quite often proved invaluable.
Standing just outside the doorway, Merry took a good look around. They'd gathered up Freddy, Camberic and Noddy, as much for comfort as for the old saying, 'safety in numbers'. Merry's heart beat a little faster. This was it.
"All right. Are we set?" Everyone nodded, Pippin looking understandably pale. "Keep close together and move casually, as if we'd been here a while. When I give the signal, we'll spread apart a little, and ease Pippin into view, very gently." He looked back into the room. "They all look pretty happy, so it should work out just fine."
"What about your parents, Merry? Can you see them? Do they look terribly grim?" Pippin so didn't want to go in, but putting it off only meant climbing a much larger hill later. And he could hardly see the top of this one.
"No, I can't see either one. They must be around the back..."
Camberic laid a hand on Merry's shoulder and whispered, "I saw them not an hour ago and they seemed mighty chipper. Not at all put out about anything. Your Mother was telling some sort of joke to her old Uncle and laughing real happy-like."
Merry sighed and nodded. Well enough. But that still left The Great Aunt. "Ready, everyone? Let's go."
At first, everything went according to plan. Not a soul seemed to notice their entrance, so busy were they filling and emptying plates. Cheerful conversation filled the room and bounced off the walls, while through the air wafted the aroma of the pride of the Brandy Hall cooks.
"Uh oh..." Merry took Pippin's arm and held him back a step. "There are my parents, over in the corner with Uncle Meri. And he's not one to leave things unaddressed, especially where you're concerned. This way." They inched around the corner of one especially full table and began blending with the crowd.
With a feeling of relief, Pippin started scouting the provender. At any second he'd surely get his appetite back and he didn't want to guess where all of his favorites were.
Freddy picked up a goblet and leaned over the punch bowl to whisper, "Anybody spot The Great Aunt yet? I know she's supposed to be here."
Merry, Pippin and Camberic shook their heads, but Noddy, looking across a large carrot cake, simply pointed. Because, of course, there she was.
"Master Took!" Her voice was big, bold and boisterous. But then Great Aunt Fresythia wouldn't know how to be subtle if her life depended upon it. And in this case, Pippin couldn't help but feel that, indeed, his life might have depended upon it. For now the room had gone silent, thirty-odd Bolgers, Brandybucks, Bracegirdles, and Burrows (and Grubbers) all hanging upon whatever the terrible Aunt Fresythia might choose to say.
"You are far too young to be deaf! Must I come fetch you?" She appeared to be in the exact center of a large arrangement of roses and honeysuckle and if her hat was anything to go by, that was why she'd been so hard to spot. It seemed to be a garden in its own right. Several of the younger hobbits were gathered round her large, handsome feet, but she proceeded to shoo them all away, her keen eye focused only on her current target: Master Peregrin Took.
Merry pushed a shaking finger into Pippin's back. "Go on! Better now than later."
There was a lump in Pippin's throat the size of his cravat and breathing seemed a trifle difficult. "Why couldn't it be better never than later..." But he told his feet to please carry on and in no time at all, there he was, right in front of Great Aunt Fresythia, watching the big lily in the center of her hat bob slowly from left to right.
"Well, young Took?"
Now Pippin could see the wild iris, just behind the lily, bobbing in counterpoint from just a little left of center. Surely facing goblins would be easier than this...
"Ma'am?"
"Do you know, that was the first of all of my birthday cakes ever to take a flying leap in the hopes of being et by me. Was there a point to your plan?" She cocked her head, setting several rosebuds to twirling. "Or perhaps a plan to your point?"
Pippin blinked against the threatening tears and stood as tall he could. Might as well go out with a bang... "Great Aunt Fresythia, you are, you know, one of the most...eh, respected of ladies, and I wanted to give you a very big surprise, so I borrowed Uncle Merimac's special adjustable rolling table, and adjusted it to roll down the stairs, and then I got your cake and it was going to be a very special entrance just from me to you but it just, it just..." He looked down and sighed. "It just didn't work."
A strangled sound came from the under the flowering hat. "No, my dear young Peregrin, it didn't. But!" Great Aunt Fresythia sent a haughty glance fraught with daisies and perriwinkles round the room and within a heartbeat, not a soul was looking in their direction and cheerful conversation punctuated with trifles and flummeries resounded once again.
A look of deep affection rose into the old lady's eyes and she hooked a finger under Pippin's chin, lifting his face to her gaze. "Do you know, the center was quite edible, young Peregrin, quite edible indeed! And, since everyone else was far too busy gabbling about your extraordinary goose-egg, why, I had every bit of it to myself. Ha! Far, far too good for most of this rabble anyway, I say. Now!" Despite the flowerbed upon her head showing danger of uprooting, she sent her eyes roaming the room. "Where's that Brandybuck cousin of yours, eh?" Her voice rang clearly above the cheerful throng. "Meriadoc, you great thief! Come here this instant!"
With a start of surprise, Merry dropped the cream puff he'd started to bite into, wiped his fingers and hurried over to the sweet-scented tableau across the room. Whatever'd been said, it must have been good, for Pippin had color back in his cheeks and Great Aunt Fresythia was practically smiling.
"So tell me, my preposterous young hobbits, what you intend to do with yourselves, now that you will surely want a place of your very own." For once, the flowers were still, leaving just the fronds of lattice ferns to fan themselves in the breeze.
Merry opened his mouth, closed it, and blushed. His glance at Pippin found a face gone pale again.
Great Aunt Fresythia settled back firmly within her garden bower. "Oh, don't think you can fool me, you young ground squirrels! How not, when you've spent nearly every moment these last few years practically in each others pockets?" She gave a bark of laughter and slanted a startling eye at Pippin. "You know, my great nephew's been waiting for you to grow up, you pip of a Took, and now, I expect he's quite the better for it!"
Merry's cheeks were exactly the color of rosy spring apples and Pippin thought it might be a bit cooler on the other side of the room.
Great Aunt Fresythia was silent a moment, watching their faces. Everything on the hat, from buds to bird's nest, was now circling, front to back, back to front. "I don't mind telling you that in my opinion, Tooks and Brandybucks always make the best of connexions. Although I expect the lack of children will muddle the succession somewhat." She looked toward the far corner of the room and smiled slightly at Merry's parents (who privately thought that it was time to catch up on the state of things in their own household. If it wasn't already beyond them...) "But no matter, there are plenty of Brandybucks to go around and some are almost as intelligent as either of you. So. Shoo." She waved her hand toward the laden tables and the chattering family relations who were now quite sure that all was forgiven. "Go eat yourselves silly and come to me tomorrow morning. I believe I know just what will work, for you and for me. Shoo!" The resplendant hat tipped precariously over one of her canny eyes and they shooed.
Pippin lost no time in joining Freddy, Camberic and Noddy and helping himself to a large plate and an equally large mug filled with the finest beer in Buckland. Merry had slipped over to see his parents and, from what Pippin could tell, there was peace from that quarter as well. He had a moment of doubt when he caught Merry's expression on the way back, but all Merry would say was, "The Great Aunt has a considerably long arm and I don't think there's much I need to tell them that they don't already know. So, let's relax and help unload the table!"
They spent the next several moments arranging plates and mugs to the best advantage. Then after a particularly large bite of cream cake, Merry observed, "You know, that young Pittybel has been making eyes at you ever since we entered the room." He licked his fingers. "She'd marry you at the drop of a sticky bun." The expression on Pippin's face was priceless and Merry found it hard not to laugh. "What do you think? Me or her?"
"That's not fair, Merry! You know she's rich." Pippin chewed thoughtfully on the mouthful of excellent scone he'd selected from the groaning table. "And Aunt Parsimmon puts on quite a spread." He took another bite. "But then, you don't look like a chrysanthemum after the wind's blown through the garden." Pippin picked up his mug and peered over the rim. "Apoplexy, cousin? At your age?" And, turning his back, he strolled off in search of a decent cheese cup.
Merry clapped his hand over his mouth, trapping the laugh trying to burst out, and watched Pippin take his time moving around the tables, talking and joking with his distant relations as if yesterday had never happened. Oh, bless Great Aunt Fresythia's runaway cake and bless Pippin for being Pippin. Merry was so happy, he thought he'd pop. But first, where was that lemon tart he loved so well? Ah, yes. Right there...
As for Pippin, he floated around the tables as if his feet had wings. He was back among people he loved, he'd survived his confrontation with Great Aunt Fresythia and, later tonight, he'd see if connecting the freckles on Merry's stomach produced a picture worth painting. He smiled around the bite of berry trifle. Or, perhaps, kissing...
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