By: Dana
Summary: Ordinary hobbits, even if the world might be close to falling apart.
Characters: Rosebud Took, Hildibard Took, Camellia Brandybuck, Pervinca Took, Berilac Brandybuck
Pairings: Pippin/OFC spoken of (Pippin/Rosebud), OMC/OFC (Hildibard/Camellia), minor character/OFC (Pervinca/Rosebud), minor character/OMC (Berilac/Hildibard)
Rating: PG/PG-13
Warnings: Slash, het, femslash, violence described
Author's Notes: The Troubles.
Series Index: In a Sunless Year.
Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with J.R.R. Tolkien or New Line Cinema. Any and all characters and situations that have been borrowed are for the author's personal use only, and for the entertainment of others. All original characters, however, are fully mine to play with.

(day 1)

Rosebud can't recall what day it had been when her brother (her only brother, and he was three years her elder, even though he'd never been much for acting his age), Hildibard, had went out riding from Great Smials. It had been awful, and more than just that, when no word had come of him, for a short while, which then turned into a full month, and then eight months, and perhaps that meant it was the ending of the world. Certainly, it wouldn't be the first time that he had lost himself, and for such a long time – why, his sweetheart was a Brandybuck by blood, and Camellia was her name, and oh how Hildy did like losing himself around her – but this was different, for all that Rosebud couldn't place how she knew that there had been a change.

Maybe because there'd been talk, and there'd been no proper guests for longer than Hildy had been gone, and Thain Paladin had been in such a foul and distant mood, of short and of late, since word had come that Peregrin was dead, since he had had to grieve for his son, and amidst such a trying time; and it had taken a hard turn, for a while there in December, after they had first poked and prodded him into naming cousin Reginard his heir. It had been bad, but only worse, given that folk had pushed and prodded him into naming his heir, when it had been months and months since Peregrin had up and got himself killed, or up and ran away.

But Hildy's letter did come, long after Rosebud had lost hope that it ever would, thing things really had gone from bad to worst – and when it at last did come, it was Berilac Brandybuck who delivered it, looking somewhat harried, and by hand. The Master's own – well, it wasn't spoken of, not when there was no body, but seeing as he'd been lost to the Old Forest, a hobbit shouldn't be so surprised if there'd end up being no body to be found. Not his, or that cousin of his, Frodo, yes, that was his name. And it was a pity, an awful pity – Rosebud always had been fond of cousin Peregrin, but he was gone, too. Rosebud supposed Berilac didn't much like thinking on knowing that he'd be Master – but Rosebud couldn't see how cousin Reginard liked thinking that, one day it would fall upon him to be Took and Thain. He never had been one for taking charge, or so he liked to insist.

It was awful business, wrong and dark.

Anyhow, Rosebud thought Berilac brave for having risked himself as he had; but the post hadn't been running, and perhaps he thought it his duty to make sure word of Hildy got back to those who loved him.

And so it had.

And Berilac brought the letter from her brother, then excusing himself, and Rosebud had read the letter for her mother, as her mother hadn't the heart to read it herself. Tears had gathered in her eyes, reading what her brother had written, what her brother had seen and what her brother had to tell her, and no, he wouldn't be coming home, and he was sorry, and mum, don't you worry, and Rosebud, keep yourself safe. Oh, and Camellia is doing well.

It was awful business, wrong and dark, but it was affecting more than just Great Smials, and Tuckburough – it was affecting all of the Shire, and how had Rosebud not known?

When her mother had listened three times, she bid Rosebud fold the letter, and hand it over, and Rosebud did. Then, she kissed her mother's brow, and went from her room, feeling as if she had been blinded to the world –

And it hurt, now that she could see.

She only realized she was weeping, when concerned hands bid her wipe her eyes, she did with the handkerchief she had been handed. She snuffled and accepted the cloth, dragging it across her eyes. 'Thank you,' she whispers, blinking her eyes against the tears that continue to gather, wanting to dash them all away. She felt – she didn't like how she felt. She didn't like knowing what she knew. She didn't like knowing that her brother had chosen a Brandybuck over his own kin.

'Thank you,' she whispers, again, and she looks cousin Ferdibrand straight in the eyes. His smile is small, and she offers back his handkerchief – but he bids her keep it, rubbing at the back of his neck as he stumbles over his words. She does smile, then, because she can't help herself, not when Ferdi is as uncertain as he is. So Rosebud folds the handkerchief over, and kisses it, then leans up on her toes and kisses his cheek. 'I'd best be going, then,' and she turns, tucking the handkerchief down behind the lace ruffle at the front of her dress – because he'll blush, and he'll stutter when he laughs off his nervousness, and that's just the sort a thing a lass like her would do, after all.

She still feels as if she might cry.

Rosebud goes out, and thinks about what her brother's words had told her, and breathes in the scent of late summer air. Soon, autumn will come. And bad as it might seem, certainly it would have to be better – but how could she think that, when there were such bad Men about, and such awful things were going on. Hobbits taken and being locked up, the thieving and the burning, and things, how they were all changing, and how she wanted them to all go back to how they should be, and stay the same.

But things weren't all that bad here, were they? No, it didn't seem as if they did, and if Rosebud hadn't known, couldn't feel the mood upon the air, then she'd not have been able to tell.

She sought out Berilac, and he didn't smile when she came.

'When will you be returning to your home?'

'Soon enough – by tomorrow, I imagine, and that's at the latest.'

Rosebud nods. Tears prickle in her eyes, tickles at the back of her throat. 'I want to go with you. I can't stay here, knowing – ' She's never been one for being serious, and she supposes it must show. And now she feels as though she's acting the petulant child, and all the hard lines of Berilac's mouth softens when he speaks.

'I can't see the good in that.'

'Well, I need to make certain that Hildy's well,' and her voice breaks on the last word.

'Do you mind – no, I don't think you mind,' he murmurs, and then he winds his arms about her, and draws her very close. She snuffles, and presses her face against his shoulder, her hands curled into loose fists, and pressed up against his chest. 'He'll be best, knowing you're safe, I think.'

And they are safe, here, aren't they, and Rosebud knows, having read her brother's letter, that the Tooks have been the only ones strong enough to hold out against the ruffians, and keep hold of their land. 'If I don't go to him, he'll do something foolish. That's how he is, you know? He'll not think, and then – oh, he'll make a great mess. I shouldn't worry, I know, but I do, and I can't help myself.'

And here she is, blathering on and crying all over the Master's heir. She almost blushes, but she doesn't, and Berilac holds her until she's through with her tears. Only then does he unwind his arms from about her, lets her loose, brushing back hair behind her ear, a bit of curl that's damp and sticky from her tears.

Maybe Brandybucks aren't all that awful. Just maybe, as her brother does love one, after all.

'I am very sorry,' she says, and then she laughs. And then, again, she whispers, and wipes her hand across her damp eyes, 'however did you make it here, then?'

'I did a fair bit of sneaking,' Berilac replies, and his smile is small. 'Now, I'm supposing that you'll want to write back Hildy, and I'll be leaving by evening, latest, tomorrow, so – '

'Yes, yes. I have writing that needs be done.'

chapter two