Goldilocks
wanted to scream. She seemed surrounded by midges, and every inch of exposed
skin had been bitten. She was quite certain that the rotten insects preferred
her taste to that of her companions. Pippin swatted half as much as she did,
and Faramir did not seem in the least bit phased by the midges.
Goldi
was also starting to worry about their supplies. She had finally found the fatal
flaw in Faramir’s plan: they had no pony to share the load. Between the three
of them, they could carry enough food to last them for a week or so, but what
would happen when they were deep in the wilderness? Goldi knew they would have
to start rationing soon, even though they were only five days out from Bree.
Their
journey was miserable even after they had left the marshes behind, so it was
not surprising that tempers eventually boiled over. However, it was not Pippin
who snapped, it was Goldilocks. The thought of the diminishing food had been
weighing on her mind, and she was tired, cold and muddy. To make things worse,
Faramir was constantly taking out the map, never seeming satisfied with what he
saw.
“What’s
wrong?” Goldi finally asked, after Faramir had studied the map for the third
time in one day. “We’re not lost are we?”
“Well,
er, no, not exactly…” Faramir stammered. Her question had caught him completely
off-guard. He had hoped that neither of his companions had seen how anxious he
looked. He had indeed lost them. The map did not show a clear path through the
marshes, and Faramir was certain that they had turned too far north.
Goldi
stopped walking. “What do you mean, ‘not exactly’? We’re either lost or we’re
not, and from the way you keep studying the map, I’d say it’s the former!”
Pippin
also stopped. “We’re lost?”
Faramir
knew he had to admit their predicament. “I think we might have gone a little
too far north through the marshes. Nothing serious…”
“Nothing
serious?” Goldi screeched. “Our supplies are low enough as it is, Faramir Took,
thanks to your lack of proper planning! How are we supposed to survive lost in
the wilderness?”
“We’re
not lost!” Faramir snapped back at her. It had stung him deeply to have Goldi
yell at him. Throughout their adventure, she had always been the one who stood
by him when Pippin became angry. He pointed to the hills they could see in the
east. “Those are the Weather Hills. If we make for them, we should find
Weathertop, and from there, we should be able to see all the land around us.”
“Fine,”
Goldi said at last, though her voice was still icy. She was utterly sick and
tired of this miserable adventure. Her Gamgee good sense had finally taken
over, and she wondered why she had even come in the first place. She longed for
her bed at Bag-End. She longed to see her ridiculous younger sisters flaunt
themselves over every available male at The Ivy Bush or Green Dragon.
She longed for a bath! Goldi was glad she did not have a looking-glass with
her. If the appearances of Pippin and Faramir were anything to go by, Goldi
knew that her face must have been filthy, and she could see that her hair no
longer shone like gold under the sunlight.
“Perhaps
we should rest here for the night,” Pippin suggested, becoming the peacemaker
of the group for the first time. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m mighty
tired.”
Faramir
and Goldi continued to stare at each other, neither willing to give in. Finally
Faramir turned (and Goldi smirked triumphantly), and said to Pippin. “Good
idea, Pip.”
The
three of them unstrapped their packs and sat on the ground. Pippin started a
fire, hating the uneasy silence that had fallen upon the group. He had been
able to stand these silences in the past, because it had usually been him
refusing to talk to his sister and friend. But having Goldi and Faramir
fighting just seemed wrong. It was at that moment that Pippin Gamgee realised
that he wanted Faramir to marry Goldilocks. He remembered Elanor’s
wedding day. He had never seen his eldest sister so happy. She had almost been
glowing. He wanted to see Goldi that happy, and Faramir Took was the only
hobbit who could do that, Pippin was sure of it.
On
Goldi’s orders, they ate very little for dinner, and skipped supper. She had
decided that they should start the rationings early, clearly displaying her
lack of faith in Faramir’s ability to lead them safely through the wild.
As
soon as night had fallen, Goldi made herself as comfortable as possible on the
ground, and promptly went to sleep. The day had exhausted her. Pippin wandered
a little way from the camp to find more firewood. Faramir remained behind,
staring into the fire, trying to blink away the tears that had formed in his
eyes. Goldi’s harsh words echoed in his mind, hurting him further. She’s
right, he told himself, I should never have made her do this. Why
couldn’t I just tell her in a normal way?
“Don’t
let it get to you,” Pippin’s voice said.
Faramir
looked up in surprise. Pippin had returned, and was piling wood onto the fire.
“W-what do you mean?”
Pippin
smiled. “Honestly, Faramir, how long have we been friends? I know we haven’t
seen each other as much as we used to, but you’ll never change, and I’ll always
be able to know what you’re thinking. I know you as well as I know Merry and
Goldi!”
Faramir
managed a small smile. “I suppose…”
“She’s
just cranky, is all. She’ll get over it. Always does. That girl can’t stay mad
at anyone for too long.” Pippin sat himself next to his Took friend. “Forgive
me?”
“What
for?”
“For
hitting you when we were in Woody End, of course. I don’t know what came over
me.”
“You
were just protecting your sister,” said Faramir. “If I had a sister, I know I’d
do the same thing. In fact, I once hit a lad for saying something about my
cousin, Adella.” Faramir grinned. “Uncle Everard tried to look angry at me for
that, but I could tell that he was glad I did it. Saved him the trouble.”
Pippin
laughed. “Was it the same lad she married?”
“As
a matter of fact, yes it was.”
“Well,
I’ve condemned Goldi now, since I hit you!” Pippin joked.
“I
really do love her, Pippin. You know I’d never hurt her.” Faramir’s voice was
small and quiet. “I could kick myself for bringing her out here. It was a
stupid idea.”
“You’ve
had a lot of stupid ideas in your life, Faramir Took, but I wouldn’t class this
as one of them. Goldi’s angry now, but she’s enjoying this adventure and so am
I.”
Faramir
smiled again. “Thank you, Pippin.”
“What
are friends for?” Pippin thought for a moment. “And one day, hopefully, we’ll
be brothers too!”
“Merry’s
not going to hit me too, when we tell him, is he?”
“I’ll
try to convince him not to, but he has his own mind set on a certain lass.”
Pippin was grinning too. His brother had confided in him just days before the
party about the lass that had caught his eye. Pippin had been practically
bursting to tell the news to someone.
Faramir
raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? Who is she?”
“Lavender
Boffin, from Overhill.”
“Old
Folco’s daughter? My dad is good friends with him. Nice fellow.”
“Yes,
and Lavender is fairly pretty. Merry actually asked her for a dance at the
party, but I think that was after you and Goldi had disappeared.”
“And
what of you, Pippin?” Faramir asked. “Has a special lass caught your eye?”
Pippin
blushed. “Well, perhaps…”
“Who
is she?”
“You’ll
think I’m silly,” Pippin admitted, looking at his feet. Faramir solemnly shook
his head, indicating that he would think nothing of the sort. With a sigh,
Pippin gave in. “Rosemary Bolger.”
“Uncle
Merry’s niece?” Faramir asked, and Pippin nodded. “She’s older than you, but
then, my Aunt Pim is older than Uncle Berry. And Dad tells me that Uncle
Merry’s mother was older than his father.”
“Hmmm,
I was going to ask her to dance, but I was too shy.”
“Pippin
Gamgee too shy to ask a lass to dance? I don’t believe it!” Faramir laughed,
for he knew that out of all the Gamgee children, Pippin had most inherited his
father’s shy and bashful nature when it came to the fairer sex. “When we return
to the Shire, perhaps we should do something about that.”
Lying
not too far away and facing away from the two lads, Goldilocks smiled. Of all
the Gamgee children, she had most inherited her father’s uncanny ability
to convincingly feign sleep.
* *
* * * *
“We
should rest here for the night,” Aragorn declared. He, Legolas, Gimli and the
hobbits had set out from Bree three days earlier, and were now deep in the
Chetwood.
“This
place looks familiar,” Sam mused.
“That
would be because we came this way, many, many years ago.”
“I
thought as much.” He screwed his nose up. “I don’t suppose that means we’ll be
going through those nasty marshes again.”
“From
what you have told me, I would guess that your children have taken that path.
It is my hope that the marshes will slow them down, for it is difficult to make
a clear path across them. We may reach Weathertop before them.”
All
of the hobbits shuddered at the name of the accursed hill. None of them had any
great desire to return to it, but knew that they would have a wide view of the
countryside from its peak.
Legolas
was speaking softly to their ponies in Elvish. Ellouise Butterbur had indeed
helped them. She had somehow managed to acquire not one, but two fine ponies, both
of which seemed to be enjoying their journey, despite being weighed down with
supplies. As a trust payment, Aragorn had left the two horses that he and his
companions had ridden to Bree on at The Prancing Pony. Horses of Rohan,
accustomed to galloping in wide, open spaces would be of no use here in the
wild.
“I
like this wood,” Legolas declared.
Gimli
smirked. “I do wonder, Master Elf, if there is a wood in the world that you do
not like.” When Legolas simply smiled in reply, Gimli knew he had made a very
correct point. He turned his attention to the hobbits. “What do you suppose
made your children decide to run off on this little adventure?”
Meriadoc
snorted. “You obviously have never met Faramir Took, for there would be no need
to ask that question if you had. Worse than his father, if that is even
possible to comprehend.”
“Diamond’s
fault, that,” Peregrin stated. “Descendants of the Bullroarer always have a lot
of spirit.”
“I
remember him,” said Aragorn. “Master Peregrin brought him to Gondor when he was
around fifteen years old. You would have thought I had learnt my lesson about
dealing with Tooks. I don’t believe my kingdom will ever recover.”
“Oh,
come on now, he’s not nearly that bad!”
“He certainly is,” Meriadoc argued. “And to top it all off, he has a hobbit named after you with him. I can’t imagine a worse combination.”
“I’d
say that if young Théo was a little older, he and my Merry would make for an
interesting mix,” said Sam, with a grin.
“Dear
Samwise,” Legolas laughed. “I think you should have known better than to name
your children after these two!”
* *
* * * *
A/N:
Finally- a chapter that’s reasonably substantial in length! Hopefully I will be
able to equal it with the next chapter.