|
The handsome couple was wed. Falco Headstrong was silent throughout, dwelling in the present and once every so often thinking of the past. Did he have any regrets that there had been no such hand-fasting for him? Yes... he did... but she had married one of the best hobbits in the world. Why had she loved him? Because he was a good, noble lad. Perhaps she also loved his poetical ability, though she would never marry him because of it. Falco would not have thought to marry her under a bower of lilacs.
When Derufin bent and kissed his bride, Falco pulled himself wholly from his musings and took up the whistle of little Marigold's father. He wished for a moment that Fosco were with him. Fosco had also played the whistle, and they had made such a combination of ringing music with it when they played together. But, ah well. He had these talented lads with him. They surely knew the song. No need to break the moment by telling them. And the last line would be cut out... it was too sad.
He played the intro... soft, sweet, and melodious. It was a beautiful and fitting song for the couple just wed.
Oh, the summertime is coming,
and the trees are sweetly blooming
where the wild mountain thyme
grows around the blooming heather.
Will ye go, lassie, will ye go?
And we'll all go together to pick wild mountain thyme
all around the blooming heather.
Will ye go, lassie, will ye go?
I will build my love a bower
near yon pure crystal fountain
and on it I will pile
all the flowers of the mountain.
Will ye go, lassie, will ye go?
And we'll all go together to pick wild mountain thyme
all around the blooming heather.
Will ye go, lassie, will ye go?
The lads joined him with instrument and voice, singing soft in the verses and rising slightly during the chorus. When their voices faded their music went on, playing sweet and low.
This was the happy tale beginning. When he had asked her, "Will ye go?" she had said: "I will."
|