*Heavy sigh*  Well...looks like I'm doing it again; another Pippin romance.  While this tale is not A/U, JRRT didn't exactly write about Pippin's love-life, either...which leaves it wide open for my wild imagination.  Yes, that *can* be dangerous!  I first introduced Sapphira in an earlier tale: Where Roses Grow, although much later in the story.  However, even then, I knew I wanted to do "something" with Pippin and her.  I love Diamond, and I promise to include her in this tale, but again, it will be later in the story.  I hope you decide to stay and watch the tale unfold.  Happy reading...

The story begins in the spring of 1426, S.R.

A question from a friend:

"I do have to ask this, does this one start after "Roses" and continue on with that line or is this a separate story and not related to "Roses"? Just wondering if Pip is still in mourning over his wife and child or if that story has no relationship to this one." G.W.

Author Reply: "...But as you know, the entire story of Roses was A/U, having nothing really to do with my "real" Pippin universe. So I guess the basic answer would be that this story is separate."

Disclaimer: All hobbits and Middle-earth belong to JRR Tolkien, but I can dream, can't I?

THE COURTSHIP OF PEREGRIN TOOK

One - Better Late Than Never

The hustle and bustle of Tuckborough’s market had little effect on the pair of young hobbits sitting on the porch of the Oak Leaf Inn having a brew. However, the mug of beer each cousin held in his hand did much to help alleviate the wee bit of inconvenience one half of the twain felt about now. Pippin leaned back in his chair blowing smoke rings up into the blue sky with his brand new pipe as he bided his time, waiting for the extremely overdue coach. The carriage that conveyed the new nursemaid for his three young nephews was extremely late; a courier rode in a few hours ago with news that the carriage had trouble with one of its wheels. Instead of going all the way back to the Smials only to turn around and come back to town again, Pippin decided to stay put and wait.

At first, Pippin wandered aimlessly through the town market half listening to the multiple dealings going on then spied his cousin Everard inside the Leaf Shop purchasing pipe-weed and a new pipe. The proprietor had a very lucrative morning; he had sold two new pipes in stead of only one. Pippin and Everard, along with their new pipes, made towards the porch of the Oak Leaf Inn to have a mug and catch up on news. Having nothing else to do at the moment, Everard decided to keep his younger cousin company while he waited for the carriage to arrive. At present, both sat outside under the eaves of the tavern smoking their pipes and sipping beer.

“I’ll wager she’s an old gammer with grey hair whose voice is so shrill she makes the children cringe,” said Pippin, watching tendrils of smoke rise up into the air and then dissipate.

“Pimpernel wouldn’t do that to her lads,” replied Everard, grinning.

Pippin almost choked on his beer trying not to laugh. “You don’t know my sister very well!”

The elder cousin took a sip of his beer, then ventured a wild guess of his own. “I’ll say…she’s a sixty year old spinster who will pinch the cheeks off your nephews.” Here, Everard spoke in falsetto, giving his best imitation of an elder hobbit-lady's voice, “Come here, my wee darlin'-- let me pinch those hearty jowls!” As he jested, Everard reached over to nip Pippin’s cheek with his fingers. The two cousins laughed for a bit as Pippin attempted to thwart Everard’s attempts.

Everard wiped tears of laughter from his face, “Oy--I feel for all three of them--especially the youngest. My old dad must have hired three nursemaids for us children from the time I was a young lad until I became a teen.”

“Did any of them squeeze your cheeks?” asked Pippin, rubbing one side of his reddened face.

“Every single day,” Everard replied slowly, pointing his pipe at Pippin as he emphasized each word.

“I didn’t have a nursemaid while growing up,” said Pippin thoughtfully, “except Dahlia the cook--who sort of ended up being the cook, child-minder, and general all-round mother’s helper at the farm smial in Whitwell.” At that moment, his green eyes spied the carriage coming up the lane, slowly approaching its usual place in front of the Oak Leaf. “Look,” he said with a carefree nod, “it’s finally arrived.”

Everard Took looked at his timepiece. “Good heavens above--it’s about time,” he said, shutting the lid then slipping it back into his waistcoat pocket. “Three hours and twenty minutes. If it were delayed any longer, I should have to order another round of beer.”

“Now Everard,” Pippin quipped, “it wouldn’t do well to have a couple toss-pots meet and greet my nephews’ new nurse.” The lads stood up like gentlehobbits then walked to the edge of the porch to await the new hire.

Six hobbits stepped out of the carriage with assistance from the driver: a mother and her two children, a young hobbit lass, and two grey-haired old gammers. Pippin licked his lips nervously, thinking perhaps his own guess had come true. Everard inconspicuously leaned in towards the younger cousin, whispering, “Which one is it?”

“I don’t know,” Pippin replied in like manner. He noticed that the senior hobbits walked away from one another, discounting the idea that they were travelling together. Pippin stepped up to the one heading towards the dining room of the Oak Leaf. “Hullo,” he said, standing directly in her path. “Are you the new nurse for Pimpernel Brownfield?” No, she wasn’t--nearly shoving the lad aside as she made her way into the dining room. (Never come between a hobbit and the next meal!) He then caught up to the other gammer, walking towards the market. “Ma’am…” He asked the same question, but still no luck.

Pippin stood in the road halfway between the Oak Leaf and the market with his arms held out and a questioning glance in Everard’s direction. He saw his cousin indiscreetly pointing towards the young lass that stood two feet away from him on the porch as if looking for someone. Pippin didn’t get a good look at the girl before chasing down the elder hobbits, however, the fleeting look he did get made him think she wasn’t old enough to be a nurse--perhaps a child-minder who watches after children for short spells, but not a live-in nurse. Pippin shook his head sceptically at Everard. Grinning, Everard nodded. Out of time--and lasses, Pippin started back towards the porch of the tavern.

“Cousin, cousin,” Everard winked as Pippin strolled up, “while you were off pursuing the grey haired ladies, I discovered that this maiden is going in your direction back to the Smials. Apparently, she was to meet with Mistress Brownfield this morning, however, her carriage was delayed three hours in Waymeet over a broken wheel. Allow me to introduce you to one of our Northfarthing relations.” Everard took the young bachelor by the shoulders to stand him appropriately before the lass. “This is Miss Sapphira North-took of Long Cleeve.”

Figuring quick introductions went on while he was walking in from the road, he hastily bowed, “I’m Pippin--at your service and your family’s.”

“Thank you,” the lass answered as she curtsied, “and I at yours.” Sapphira shielded the sun from her eyes as she gazed at the young fellow. “I understand that you have been waiting to drive me to the Smials.” She smiled sadly, “I am sorry for your trouble; I believe I’ll only be staying the night.”

“Why’s that?” asked Pippin.

“Because I’m already too late for the meeting with Mrs. Brownfield. I hardly believe that she would suffer a new hire arriving hours past her appointment.”

“I don’t think that is true in this situation, Miss Sapphira,” offered Pippin, trying to cheer up the lass. “Pi--, I mean, Mrs. Brownfield is not so inflexible that she refuses to amend her own schedule.” He nearly snickered at all the formality.

“Well, I see cousin Ferdie finally made it here,” said Everard, watching a familiar head of dark brown curls tether his pony to the tavern’s hitching post. “I think I’ll have one last mug with him before heading home for tea. Are we still on for a game of chess after supper?”

“Yes,” Pippin replied, though didn’t see that Everard was already walking in Ferdibrand’s direction. “I suppose--” Pippin stopped speaking when he realized his cousin was no longer standing next to him. “Hmm…that was rather abrupt, wouldn’t you agree?” he puzzled, turning again to face Sapphira. She kindly smiled her reply. Pippin looked over her shoulder to a single piece of luggage sitting in the road. “I can help you with that,” he said as he strode over to it. Pippin was uncommonly tall for a hobbit, however, he still had not filled out to the proper size of an adult hobbit. (It would be a while…after he found himself a good cook and married her!) His slim frame strained every muscle upon picking up the hefty bag from the road. “The…carriage is over there,” he grunted, “in the…the shade of that oak tree.”

“Thank you, Pippin,” said Sapphira, following the lad towards the carriage, then stiffened.

“What’s wrong?” Pippin asked.

“It’s the Thain’s carriage,” she remarked, seeing the cursive red letters of T&T emblazoned on the carriage, which was painted black and trimmed with thin red lines.

Pippin continued struggling with the luggage, carrying it as he walked. “Well…yes,” he answered. Then it dawned on him that Sapphira probably didn’t realize he was the Thain’s son. Pippin grinned mischievously while Sapphira walked behind him. “The Thain affords all distinguished visitors of his immediate family the occasion to travel in elegance.”

“I’m not distinguished, Sapphira chuckled. “I work to make a living--the same as you.”

The carriage shuddered as Pippin heaved the bag onto the back ledge for stowing. “Yes, however,” Pippin replied, “the work you do for a living is not the same as what the servants do at the Smials. Some of them work long hard hours to accommodate the eccentric folk who dwell there--while other servants have nowhere else to live, so they live and board in the lower tunnels.”

“True,” Sapphira agreed, “I’ll admit I’ve had a proper upbringing, however, I do not deem myself anyone special.” Sapphira waited for the young hobbit to finish with the task of securing her luggage before she entered the riding compartment.

“Then you will fit right in,” smiled Pippin as he walked up and opened the door. “My lady,” said Pippin, bowing again.

Sapphira was smitten with the courteous lad. She took his hand, stepping up into the carriage. Believing Pippin to be a servant of the Smials, Sapphira was impressed with the lad’s eloquence. “You sound quite educated for a foothobbit,” she said, complimenting Pippin as he closed the door. “I think we shall become very good friends.” Pippin grinned playfully as he climbed into the seat next to Mat the driver.

Mat was very surprised to see the future Thain appear at his side next to the driver’s seat. “Mr. Pip--!”

“Shhh!” Pippin hushed the elderly hobbit, holding his finger to his lips. “I’m riding up here with you for this trip.” He could have sworn he heard Mat grumble something about…being up to no good again…

~ ~ ~

Territorial, was the first word that came to Sapphira’s mind as she followed Pippin through the winding tunnels. At almost every turn, another servant would approach the tall lad and attempt to take her luggage from him. She couldn’t hear exactly what Pippin whispered to them, but Sapphira assumed the words were quite firm, as he always triumphed the tug-o-war. After many twists and turns, Pippin finally stopped and opened a door,  allowing the lass to enter first. “Guest quarters--for now," Pippin grunted, "that is...until we can...freshen up…the room prepared for you.” Pippin plopped the heavy bag onto her bed.

Before he had the chance to leave her alone in her room, Sapphira blurted out the burning question on her mind. “How do I get in touch with Mrs. Brownfield, Pippin?”

“I can take you to her directly,” he answered, his arms relieved to be rid of the weighty luggage. Massaging the flow of blood back into his limbs, he added, “Please follow me.”

Not as many winding tunnels this time; Sapphira thought she could almost traverse the distance between her room and the Brownfield apartment without assistance. But not right away, of course; she followed Pippin until he halted in front of a round, yellow door. He knocked then entered without so much as waiting for an answer. Sapphira stood rooted where she was, gaping jaw and all. Where did this lad leave his manners? She heard him shout their employer’s name as if he were calling one of his friends at the pub. “Pimpernel! Come out here and meet Molena’s replacement!” Sapphira was absolutely shocked. If there was any redemptive possibilities for being late, she felt it all had gone out the window now.

“Is that you, Pippin?” came a young lady's voice from within the apartment. Pimpernel emerged from her room, still pinning up her hair, “Where in the Shire have you been? I got word that there was only a short delay, and--” Pimpernel stopped short at seeing two hobbits standing in the parlour. “Oh--hullo! Is this Miss North-took?”

“Uncle Pippin, Uncle Pippin!” came a chorus of lads on the heels of their mother.

“You were supposed to be at my recital after luncheon,” said Gelly. His disappointment showed in his voice. “I played the song you taught me last week all by myself--you were supposed to accompany me.”

With a very swift and worried glance at Sapphira, who goggled at him, Pippin placed an arm around his eldest nephew and answered lovingly, “I’m sorry Gel--Miss Sapphira’s carriage broke a wheel in Waymeet and I had to wait for her in town. Will you play your dulcimer for me later? We can play our instruments together then.” He smiled at Gelly’s nod.

Sapphira appropriately restrained her rising anger at Pippin’s unseemly jest. Her cheeks coloured at being the object of his little joke. Quickly recovering, Sapphira swallowed the nervous lump in her throat then curtsied in response to Pimpernel's greeting, “Good afternoon ma’am; I am Sapphira North-took, whom you hired to mind your sons.”

“I am delighted to finally meet you in person, Miss North-took,” said Pim, trying to put the lass at ease. These are my lads--Gelbrin, Tilbrith, and Hilfred--named for his father. They’re twelve, nine, and six as I told you in the letter--and I’ll save the rest for later. You must be completely exhausted and famished after such a long trip from Long Cleeve. Please--why don’t you rest for a little while before we start going over everything? We can take tea together in a little while.”

“Yes, ma’am--and please call me Sapphira,” she said, then smiled as she gathered her skirt, kneeling down to Tilby and Hilly’s eye-level. “And I am glad to meet you, too.”

“Very well, Sapphira,” said Pimpernel. “I shall send Miss Iris to your room to help you settle in and rest up.”

“Yes, ma’--Mrs. Brownfield,” Sapphira replied, suddenly feeling extremely weary--most likely brought on by her intense emotions. “Perhaps I shall lie down for a bit.”

“I--I’ll accompany you to your room--you may get lost,” offered Pippin.

The round yellow door shut; as Pippin walked beside Sapphira, he intuitively felt her anger. He tried to explain, “I thought--” then he felt himself shoved against the wall.

“The cheek!” she whispered through clenched teeth. “I’ve got my eyes on you, Mister Pippin Took!” As she marched on ahead, Sapphira did not see Pippin’s impish grin. She’s definitely a Took!, Pippin thought to himself as he trailed her. And I’ve got my eyes on you, too.

TBC

TWO - Calling a Truce

It had been a long afternoon of endless meetings for Thain Paladin II and his assistant-son here at the Smials. Taking a breather, Pippin stood in the entryway of the Great Door munching an apple while inhaling the fresh air and taking in the warm sunshine. He leaned against the doorjamb squinting at the distant black speck that slowly grew in size, making its way uphill past the stables to the front entrance where he stood. The carriage driver made an unusually abrupt stop then quickly jumped down from his seat to open the door. The occupants inside the carriage were Pippin’s three nephews and their nursemaid, Sapphira.

Pippin had not spoken much to the lass since their gracious encounter nearly two weeks ago upon her arrival. He knew that Sapphira was busy getting to know her young charges and unfamiliar surroundings, but also he felt that she was generally avoiding him. Pippin decided he rather liked the spirited lass whose fiery eyes met his own back in the hallway outside of Pimpernel’s quarters. She was so unlike his most recent pursuit.

When it appeared that Mat was desperate in trying to help Sapphira out of the carriage, Pippin paid close attention to discover why. Next, the three young brothers stormed out of the other compartment door, rounded the corner and rushed up to their uncle. “Uncle Pippin--help us, help us!” they shouted.

Having finished his apple long before, Pippin laid the core aside on a hall table just inside the entryway. “What’s the matter?” he asked Gelly--the least frantic of the three boys.

“It’s Miss Sapphira,” answered Gelly. “We sort of…” The lad burst into tears before he could finish his explanation. “We played a trick on her…and she fell…and we didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“You didn’t mean for what to happen?” asked Pippin, his voice tinged with alarm. Although today was an “outing” day, Pippin spent most mornings tutoring the lads in their letters and sums, therefore he knew the mischief his nephews were capable of. Pippin went up to the carriage door while Mat was still coaxing Sapphira to come out.

“Lean on me, Miss,” he heard Mat say, “and I’ll take ye all the way t’ Mrs. Brownfield’s quarters.”

“That won’t be necessary, Mat, but thank you,” said Pippin standing beside the grey-haired carriage driver. He looked at the very same lass who shoved him into a wall over a mild jest he played at her arrival. Overall, Sapphira seemed fine yet she was hesitant to move.

Pippin leaned inside the riding compartment, “How can I help, Miss Sapphira?”

“I don’t need any help, thank you. I’m…I’m all right,” she said, then gasped when she put even a little weight on her left foot.

Pippin saw that her ankle was badly swollen. “As you wish then, but Mat is right--you have to come out at some point. You will either succumb to hunger and thirst, or…” he smiled, “the privy.” Pippin gamely held out his arm, “Shall we?”

Sapphira scrunched up her face and held her breath as she scooted off the edge of her seat, using her good foot to ease out of the carriage and onto the ground. She gently put weight onto her injured ankle then gasped sharply, stifling a yell, then fell into Pippin. Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to weep.

With a firm hold around Sapphira’s waist, Pippin turned to address the eldest boy. “Gelly, I don’t know exactly how far this tomfoolery of yours went, but now I want you all to run ahead and inform your mother about all this--and fetch a healer, too!” As the boys ran off, Pippin swept the lass into his arms, walking briskly towards his sister’s apartment.

~ ~ ~

An hour later, Pimpernel, Pippin, Eglantine, and Paladin stood in a semi-circle listening to the diagnosis of the healer. Donnabelle Took-Boffin spoke softly so as not to disturb the injured lass. “’Tis a severe sprain,” she said. “Raise her foot and keep putting ice on it.” Donnabelle handed the Thain a small bottle filled with a golden liquid. “And give her this twice a day for three days. It’s a tincture; one nip per serving. She should keep off her foot for the next week. After that, let her walk in the garden for a bit, increasing the time day by day. She ought to be back to normal in a fortnight.”

Once the healer had left, the foursome discussed schedules as to whom would care for the young nursemaid and when. It seemed reasonable that Pippin would take the first watch while Pimpernel spoke with her lads and found out exactly what had transpired in town that afternoon. With a soft sigh, Pippin watched his parents and Pimpernel leave the bedroom. He then turned on his heels facing the patient, assessing his approach to someone who obviously didn’t care for his wit.

“I’d rather be alone right now, if you don’t mind,” Sapphira said at seeing Pippin walk towards her bed. Her eyes were red and swollen--just like her ankle, bandaged and raised upon two pillows.

“Sure…wallow in your self-pity,” Pippin replied.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re feeling terrible,” he said in return, sitting down in the chair next to her bed.

“Of course I feel terrible. I’ve been employed here for less than two weeks, and already I’ve gone and injured myself. I’m probably going to be sacked.”

“You’re not going to get sacked,” Pippin said, chuckling softly. “As I was saying--you’re feeling terrible because of how you reacted to my little prank. Throwing me into the wall and threatening my very existence.”

“I’m feeling terrible about that?” she snorted, “I am not, thank you very much. Ow!” Sapphira winced at the sharp throbbing pain in her ankle. “Besides, I was barely able to push you--even just a little, and all I said was that I was watching you.”

“You see?” Pippin was amused that she was now his captive audience. “The thought of it all is giving you pain--I can see it in your eyes. Are you asking for forgiveness?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Not to worry,” said Pippin, trying to contain his mirth. “I’ll grant it to you some day.”

Between Pippin trying to restrain his laughter and his comical facial expressions, Sapphira began to let down her guard. After all, the lad did indeed carry her all the way to her room when she was in too much pain to walk. Perhaps it was time to forgive him. “Very well,” she said, “will you forgive me?”

Pippin smiled sweetly at her. “Yes.” He suddenly remembered the medicine the healer left. “Oh--I’m supposed to give this to you,” he said, taking the cork from the bottle. “You’re to take two sips three times a day.”

Sapphira drank her required dosage and a bit more, thinking that a wee bit extra would make her ankle feel better. It tasted horrible, though.

As she drank, Pippin’s green eyes remained fixed upon the comely maiden lying injured in her bed. Her light brown tresses no longer pinned up or hid under a bonnet, but rested loose upon her shoulders. Pippin wondered if Great Smials was the lass’s first jaunt so far away from home. Was it frightening for her? How often did she long for home? Pippin recalled his own adventures not so long ago and how scary some of it was for such a young tweenager. He knew Sapphira was some years older than he was at the finish of his Journey, however, his heart took pity on her…so young, so pretty…

“Pippin?”

Pippin stirred from his thoughts; he rejoined Sapphira in the present. “Hmm?” he asked, eyes still upon her. He noted that the bottle was neatly corked and set nearby on her bedside table.

“I asked why are you gazing at me so?”

Not wishing to divulge his innermost musings, Pippin said nothing in reply; his cheeks coloured in response to his awkwardness.

Sapphira gave up on her question. No matter; the tincture was beginning to take affect. “I don’t want us to be enemies anymore, Pippin,” she said, her head beginning to feel heavy--as if a ten-pound weight was attached to restrain movement. “I want us to be friends.”

Pippin smiled. “Indeed,” he replied, lowering his voice. “And what shall I say to that?”

“That you want us to be…become very good friends, too.” Sapphira was feeling very little pain about now. Her eyelids were growing heavy, too. “Don’t you like me?”

Very much!, thought Pippin. “Yes, I do,” he said aloud. “I also should like for us to be friends.”

“I’m glad,” said the sleepy young lass, and a tad under the influence of the medicine. “I like you, too. I don’t think Hildebrand liked me much. Well…I mean…I know he didn’t like the notion of me working all the way here at Great Smials…but I came anyway.”

This piqued Pippin’s curiosity. “Who’s Hildebrand?”

“My husband,” she replied. Sapphira cackled when she saw Pippin’s look of shock. “Well, not really--but almost. A week before we were to marry, I told him that I had accepted Mrs. Brownfield’s offer.”

“A week? When were you supposed to get married?” asked Pippin, quite astonished at Sapphira’s revelation.

“Hmmm…what day is today?”

“Mersday,” answered Pippin.

Her voice sounded far away as she answered, “A week ago, Trewsday.”

Pippin genuinely felt bad over the situation. He didn’t want to pry, but perhaps Sapphira felt better by talking about it…and before he went any further, he had to know. So he ventured another question. “Did you love him?”

Many seconds passed before Sapphira answered. “I thought I did,” she replied softly, eyes moist with tears. “Perhaps…but it’s all in the past now. I’m tired. I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“All right,” said Pippin kindly, rising up from his chair. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Pippin?”

“Hmm?”

“Do…do you think I’m pretty?”

Pippin blinked in surprise at the strange question. What an odd thing to ask from such an attractive girl. Of course Pippin thought she was pretty, but he was barely acquainted with her. Pippin pulled the drapes shut, darkening the bedroom so that the patient could sleep undisturbed from the glaring late afternoon light. Before he walked out the door, Pippin snuck another glance in Sapphira’s direction; she was already deep in slumber. He whispered, “Yes, I think you’re very pretty. Have a good sleep, Sapphira.”

~ ~ ~

The next day, after luncheon, it was again Pippin’s turn to watch over a sluggish Sapphira North-took, still affected by the electuary given to her that morning by Eglantine. “How are you feeling today?” he asked, taking the same seat in the chair he occupied the day before.

“Like an idiot,” Sapphira replied, her tone flat.

“Why? This wasn’t your doing,” offered Pippin. “The lads need to learn when to quit their foolish behaviour.” He then chuckled, “I guess I am grown up--I’m beginning to sound like my father.” Noticing her foot was about to slip off the pillows, Pippin got up to readjust her foot. Sapphira winced when Pippin gently lifted the injured appendage. “Do you want more medicine?”

“No,” Sapphira stated emphatically with a brief look at Pippin. “I’ve discovered that it makes me talk excessively.”

Pippin grinned wide, “Really? How so?”

“I think I recited every bit of poetry I knew from childhood to your Mum.”

This made Pippin laugh out loud. “She most likely enjoyed every minute of it--the lads won’t sit still long enough to recite any for her.” A moment of quiet passed between the recent friends. Pippin was curious about what Sapphira had said the day before, so he endeavoured to take advantage of her relaxed state of mind. “As a friend, I know almost nothing about you. How many siblings do you have? What made you decide to be a nursemaid--or not get married?”

Sapphira sighed heavily. “I did talk too much, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t think so.” Pippin smiled, “I thought it all quite interesting--otherwise, I wouldn’t be asking all these questions, now would I?”

Sapphira let out another long sigh. “All right then, but afterwards you must entertain me with answering all my questions.”

“Very well--I have nothing to hide,” said Pippin, grinning.

“And neither do I!” said Sapphira, her eyes wide with mock disbelief.

“What about Hildebrand?” said Pippin, his own eyes glinting with mischief.

Sapphira glared at Pippin. “You already know more than half the story, I’ll warrant, or else you wouldn’t be asking for more.”

Pippin’s face held a playful grin. “Just to let you know that I’m a gentlehobbit,” he said, his voice dripping with honey, “we’ll leave Hildebrand for another time. I’ll let you keep your secrets. For now…though I don’t have even the slightest--”

“Oh, all right!” said Sapphira, trying to sit up more in the bed. “I haven’t heard a lad whine so much since my brother Valdigrim grazed his finger on a leaf of paper while reading a book.” She watched Pippin and his silly grin eagerly scoot the chair and himself closer to the bed. He wanted to better hear the sordid details of how Sapphira came to Great Smials.

Pippin allowed Sapphira a respectable moment before she got started. “Would you care for a glass of water first? Storytelling is thirsty business.”

“Yes, thank you,” Sapphira replied. “A full glass of water, if you please.” The more for procrastination, she thought.

Pippin filled her glass with water from the pitcher already sitting on her night table then offered it to her. He then leaned forward in his chair, chin in his hand. “I’m all ears,” he said.

Sapphira drank a bit of her water; where ought she to start? “His real name is Hildebrand Haymaker. We were to be married last week, however…that couldn’t very well happen, as I was here at Great Smials.”

Pippins shook his head in disbelief. “What happened?” he asked. In his heart, Pippin wondered what hobbit in his right mind would let such a pretty and clever lass slip through his fingers.

Sapphira shot an amused look at the inquisitive lad. “Do you want to hear my story or not?”

“Yes, but…well,” he sighed, “I suppose I’ll never understand your Hildebrand.”

Sapphira smiled, “He’s not my Hildebrand anymore--remember?” For a brief moment their eyes met, then Sapphira blushed a bit. Then she added, “Perhaps he was never mine.” Pippin was quiet for the remainder of the tale as Sapphira continued, “Hildie and I were in love for a long time when he finally came of age last year and asked me to be his wife.” Her eyes lit up with a distant joy as she spoke. “Of course I said yes. Then he and his father approached my mother to arrange a marriage--or so I thought. Actually, what they arranged was a contract, it seems. My family was fine before the Occupation, but afterwards…we barely had two pennies to rub together. I never believed Hildie would take advantage of that--or establish our love upon a written document. I didn’t learn of the contract until a month before our wedding, and I felt betrayed by it. He let it slip one day while we were having a quarrel.” Sapphira smiled sadly, “From the moment I found out about the contract, it all…fell apart. After a while I just had to get away from it all in order to think.

“I searched long and hard for work as a nursemaid, even though I had yet to apprentice with anyone. I figured all my years of child-minding would suffice as experience. When I told Hildie about going away, he threatened to call off the wedding. I was on my way to catch the coach to Great Smials when I last saw him. He just sat there on his pony gazing at the carriage.” The tween’s hazel eyes glistened with unshed tears. “He used to bring me a flower every day of the week and tell me how beautiful I was.”

Pippin was at a loss for words; there was a long minute of silence between them. It appeared to him that Sapphira had just been through a heartbreaking betrothal--if one were to call it such. “Leaving him there must have been very hard for you.” Pippin watched the lass for any reaction to his remark but there was none that he could see.

“The hardest part was saying goodbye to my family--my mum, sisters and brother.” Sapphira looked as if she would start crying, but held back her tears.

“It’s all right to cry, Sapphira,” Pippin spoke tenderly. “You’ve been through a lot in just a short time.”

“My ankle is starting to hurt,” she lied somewhat. Verily, her ankle began to throb, but the true hurt remained in her heart.

“Let me straighten out your pillows,” said Pippin. It was still too soon for more medicine, so he rearranged the cushions under her foot and leg, then pulled the drapes shut over the sheers. “Perhaps a bit of a nap will do,” he said, pulling her blanket up over her shoulders. As he sat down again, even more questions loomed up in his Tookish mind. Sapphira never mentioned her father. He wondered how many brothers and sisters she had. Did she truly not love Hildebrand anymore? And now--here she was among distant kin whom she never really knew; a mere two weeks after all of the heartache that happened in her life. Pippin rummaged through his head as to how he could cheer up Sapphira in the coming days.

TBC

Three - Quandaries

“Gelly, you can do better than this,” said Pippin in a low voice, careful not to disturb his other students--Tilby and Hilly--scribbling out their assignments nearby. “We’ve gone over…how…” Pippin’s concentration was momentarily broken when Sapphira entered the study.

The two-week recuperation period for her ankle was nearly complete; the young nursemaid hobbled around wherever she went, gradually taking on more of the responsibilities of caring for the children. Pippin watched her limp over to a certain book case and replace the book that she held into an empty slot. While the lass lingered over a particular section of books, it seemed to Pippin that Sapphira was choosing another to read later that evening to quiet the boys before bed. He watched her slender fingers glide over the leather bindings as she silently read the titles to herself.

“Uncle Pippin,” whispered Gelly, nudging his uncle’s arm. “Mum says gawping at someone is rude.”

Trying to appear blasé, Pippin cleared his throat, attempting to refocus. “I only wanted to ensure Miss Sapphira didn’t require assistance with putting the book back on the shelf.”

Gelly smirked, “She sprained her ankle, Uncle Pippin, not her arm.”

“Very funny, Mr. I-can’t-remember-the-definitions-to-my-study-words.” Pippin wrote several words on a leaf of paper then slid it in front of Gelly. “I’ll give you five minutes to go over these again. It will be interesting to see if you’ve been paying attention.”

The twelve year old immediately engaged himself with writing while Pippin snuck another glimpse in the direction of Sapphira. He was just in time to watch the lass with light-brown coloured hair hobble out of the room carrying two newly chosen books. For a while, Pippin wondered when the next opportunity would lend itself for him to learn more about her. He didn’t have long to ponder, recalling the invitation he received the week before from Buckland. Merry was throwing a birthday party for his lovely bride of five years. It had been a long while since Pippin attended a party or social gathering without a young maiden accompanying him. There would already be a thousand questions from his friends as to why Posey Headstrong wouldn’t be on his arm, although they wouldn‘t be brazen enough to ask while in Sapphira’s presence. The more Pippin mused on the idea, the more he liked it; Sapphira North-took would be the perfect diversion to fend off the unwanted questions--not to mention a lovely lass to get to know better.

“I’m finished,” announced Gelly. He slid the paper back in front of Pippin to look over. He giggled at seeing his dear uncle start out of his reverie.

Pippin read the handiwork of his nephew. “Objectivism: the ability of my Uncle Pippin to think about Miss Sapphira without any preconceived notion that she even notices him.” Pippin shot Gelly a look of disdain before going on. “Panoply: A collection of lads, including my Uncle Pippin, that Miss Sapphira keeps bound to her heart so that other hobbits may observe them for amusement.” Pippin’s jaw dropped, with a fleeting glance at his nephew he read further. “Qualitative: Relating to measure or quality--as lovebirds often do of sizing up one another. For example, my Uncle gaping at Miss Sapphira while she chooses a book. Rencounter: a chance meeting between hobbits, such as the one my Uncle fancies in his dreams--involving none other than…” Pippin glared at Gelly, “Miss Sapphira.” He whacked his nephew over the head with the very paper the novel definitions were written upon. “Just for that, my dear ass, you can do all of the rest of the words I gave you this morning.”

Gelly laughed, dramatically placing both hands over his heart. “Love…marriage…nuptials…oaths…promises--” The younger boys stopped in their studies to laugh at their older brother’s antics.

Pippin tried his best to properly admonish the lad, but a slight grin appeared in spite of his efforts. “You’re full of cheek today, aren’t you? Those aren’t the words I gave you, you gooseberry,” said Pippin. He looked at his timepiece--twelve o’clock. “Fortunate for you, Gelbrin Brownfield, the time for morning studies are over. I have just enough time to write a letter to your Uncle Merry, see a friend for a wee favour, have lunch with Grandma in the south garden, then attend to business with Grandpapa in his office this afternoon.”

“My studies haven’t ended,” said Gelly, his smile half gone. “After my music lessons, I have more reading and arithmetic.”

Pippin’s smile reappeared. “I know--I’m the one who gave it all to you if you recall. And you, and you…” he said, tweaking the noses of Tilby and Hilly. “Extra studies help to keep you and your brothers out of mischief. No more pranks from you three,” he said firmly then rose to his feet. “Now I must be off.” Just as he stepped away from his chair, Sapphira reappeared in the doorway, cane in hand this time to help her walk.

“Hullo, Sapphira,” Pippin greeted the lass, speaking softly as if he were dreaming.

“Hullo, Mr. Pippin,” she responded, smiling in kind. “I’m here to claim the boys. Come along, lads,” she said, herding the hungry children with one hand while leaning on her cane with the other. “Luncheon will be in your quarters today.”

Pippin thought to ask Sapphira about accompanying him to his cousin’s birthday party, then thought better of it. He would need a bit more privacy.

~ ~ ~

The next opportunity for Pippin to talk more with Sapphira came later that afternoon. He had just left a meeting between himself and the overseers of the Smials’ staff, heading back towards his father’s office. He turned round at hearing his name called out. It was Sapphira.

“Hullo,” Pippin greeted her with a smile, then saw the frantic look on her face. “What’s wrong?”

Sapphira limped towards Pippin with a half-hearted smile in return. “Hullo, Pippin. Have you seen Gelly?”

“Is Gelly missing?”

The lass sighed, trying to fight tears of frustration. “Yes and no. That child is beginning to ruffle my feathers. The lads and I were on our way to their music lessons. Gelly said he forgot his music book, so I allowed him to go back to his room to fetch it. He was gone for a long time, so I went back to the apartment and discovered the lad’s book where he left it--on his bed, and now he’s nowhere to be found. Gelly seems to think he doesn’t need a nursemaid.”

Pippin let out the breath he subconsciously held when he figured Gelly was all right. “I need to inform my father--”

“No!” pleaded Sapphira. “Telling the Thain that I lost his grandson would mean the end of my job!”

“No, it won’t,” said Pippin, attempting to calm the lass. “We all know how mischievous that boy can be. You’re not in any trouble, Sapphira--he is. However, Gelly is right; he doesn’t need a nursemaid to mind him. He’s almost thirteen--which means he’s old enough to know better. Now, come with me. I can see that your ankle is giving you trouble.” Pippin delighted in Sapphira leaning onto his arm as they walked towards the Thain’s office. “When did you last see him?” he asked, walking slowly to keep pace with Sapphira’s sore ankle.

“About thirty minutes ago. I was just on my way outside to see if he was in the garden,” she answered.

“Trust me,” said Pippin, holding the door to the office open for her, “he won’t be anywhere near the garden--it’s too close to home. He already knows he’s in trouble so Gelly’s as far away as he possibly can be--that is, without getting into even more trouble.”

Sapphira looked at Pippin with a puzzled expression. “And how do you know this?”

“Once upon a time I was his age,” Pippin replied with a wink. “Also…it takes a scoundrel to know one.” Then he added more seriously, “He began doing this sort of thing with Molena before she left to get married.” When the Thain’s office seemed a bit too quiet, Pippin remembered that he was deputy Thain for a few hours that afternoon while his father engaged in a very important meeting of his own; in his and Eglantine’s quarters--napping upon their soft feather mattress. Not one to divulge his father’s extracurricular “duties”, Pippin scanned the office then casually stated, “Looks as if father is busy elsewhere.”

He assisted Sapphira in settling onto a chair then drew another chair up in front of her to sit upon. Pippin had a theory that right now--inside the seclusion of his father’s office--would be the perfect time to ask his question, but first to ease Sapphira about Gelly.“The lad will be all right wherever his is for the time being. He can’t be far away. Second, you can’t go running round on your ankle like that. Give me half a moment and then I will go look for him.” Then for reasons unknown, Pippin suddenly stood to his feet and began to pace around the room. Not nervously, but just trying to sort out exactly what he would say in making his petition.

Sapphira remained worried, but trusted the future Thain’s judgment in this matter. “I suppose a moment won’t hurt.” Sapphira puzzled at Pippin pacing between the hearth and where they sat. “For a grown hobbit, you look like a tweenager having been caught in the very act of misbehaving and now await your punishment.”

Pippin abruptly stopped his pacing. “Beg your pardon?” He honestly hadn’t heard a word of what Sapphira just spoke.

“Never mind,” she answered, gingerly raising her sore ankle to place atop her other foot. Pippin was correct; it truly had begun to ache again, and in her haste to find the lad she left her cane back in the Brownfield’s apartment.

When Pippin noticed Sapphira massaging her foot, he rushed up to the young lass to help, gently setting it on top of his own empty chair. He spied the vacant couch full of cushions. He lifted the lass, ferrying her to the long comfortable sofa to stretch out her leg upon it.

“What are you doing?” she asked in surprise.

“I’m taking you to the couch where your ankle can take its ease.”

“Pip--,” she yelped, no longer amused. “Lest you have forgotten, Gelly is my responsibility and he is missing. I need to go out and find him.”

“And we will, but I want to ask you a question, first,” Pippin responded, settling her on the couch, then sat upon the edge of the tea table beside the sofa. “I know where the boy is…sort of. He most likely ran into Reggies’s lads, Siggi and Addie, then ran off to the stables with them. Gelly’s obsessed with ponies right now.”

This information did put Sapphira at ease a bit. “Well, all right. What sort of question do you have--then we have to go look for him--agreed?”

“Agreed. It’s the sort of question that should get me into trouble if I don’t ask you,” Pippin replied.

Sapphira looked incredulously at him, “In trouble? With whom?”

“With myself,” he answered.

“How so?” Sapphira asked, her hazel-blue eyes locking on Pippin’s sparkling green ones. Her ill humour softened under his tender gaze. Sapphira blushed as she looked away. “Besides, you’re already in trouble,” she said quietly.

Smiling, Pippin absently took Sapphira’s hand in his. “I am?” (Well…we can’t exactly say ‘absently’--Pippin knew exactly what he was doing.) Just then, Both young hobbits startled to hear the door to the office suddenly burst open. Pippin jumped to his feet.

Pimpernel swung open the study doors shouting, “Father, Gelly’s mis…sing…again…” Pimpernel stopped abruptly in the doorway when she noticed her father was nowhere in sight. Instead there were two other, young hobbits--a lad and a lass. The redeeming factor was Pim seeing her brother standing up beside the tea table. “Pippin? Sapphira? What are you two doing in here…alone?” she demanded, cocking an eyebrow at the young hobbits.

Pippin knew what his sister was thinking. He was ready to defend Sapphira’s honour at the drop of a hat--no matter how skewed the alibi may be. “Sapphira was distraught that Gelly had disappeared on her. I brought her inside the office merely to calm her down.”

“Oh,” replied Pimpernel, a little more subdued. “Well then, come along you two,” she said, motioning the young hobbits in her direction. “We have to find that impudent child of mine.”

* * *

Study lessons were more peaceful than they had been the day before. Pippin accepted the essays and arithmetic problems he assigned the lads for evening study the day previous. “Your multiplications are improving, Tilby,” Pippin said quietly. “However…” He heard Tilby groan his frustration. Pippin gave the child’s arm a squeeze of encouragement, “…you still need a bit more practice. But take heart, Til--you have come far from a year ago. Remember when you had difficulties even memorizing your tables?”

“My mum--” the nine year old hesitated, absently chewing his fingernail. Should he tell on his beloved mum? Tilby felt his uncle take the hand away from his mouth.

“Don’t ruin your appetite before luncheon,” Pippin said, smiling. He tousled the boy’s curls, adding, “It’s fine if your mum helped you. It makes my job much easier.” Pippin looked over to the eldest lad, looking wholly disinterested in his lessons. Gelly sat with one arm up to prop his head at an angle while using the other to write out a dissertation on where he went the day before and why. It didn’t escape Pippin that Gelly had spoke very little to him all morning.

Even young Hilly felt the tension in the air. The six year old quietly scribbled out the answers to his subtractions on his own leaf of paper. Perhaps if he got Gelly talking, he would warm up and not be so cross anymore. Without warning, the small child stood up and announced loudly to everyone, “This morning--at second breakfast--Mummy said I could ride a pony when I’m eight!”

“That’s a long time from now, silly boy,” Tilby put in, though grateful for his brother’s mindless chatter.

“I’m not a silly boy--am I Uncle Pippin?”

Before Pippin could interject, Gelly none too gently put his quill-pen down on the table, roughly sliding his leaf of paper towards his uncle. “May I go now?” he asked tersely. The two arguing boys went silent as the rift between the other two hobbits appeared to grow wider.

Pippin carefully picked up the still-damp essay, surveying the many written lines in his nephew’s cursive writing. He quickly glanced at the lad sitting beside him; there was a storm brewing behind those young green eyes, and Pippin was about to bear the brunt of it…or maybe not. He read over his nephew’s essay, which was supposed to be a dissertation of why it is wrong to run off without letting someone know. Pippin resolved to get at the root of what was bothering this normally cheerful lad. “Very well, Gelly,” he said, “although I want to talk to you a bit later, though.”

Gelly smirked bitterly, “Fine. I’ll be where I’ll be for the next ten days--locked in my room. I am finished with all my assignments--may I go now?” Pippin knew Gelly wasn’t really “locked” in his room, but he understood that children will be children. As soon as he nodded, Gelly was up and out of the room. Pippin sighed as he watched him go.

~ ~ ~

Later in the day, in the early afternoon, Paladin leaned back in his high-back leather chair behind the Thain’s desk letting out a heavy sigh. Locking his fingers together behind his grey curls, he spoke to Pippin. “Suppose the Oldbarns have a bull, and Pimpernel has a cow at Whitwell. You remember the Oldbarns, don’t you?” He waited for Pippin to nod then went on. “The bull and cow meet in the middle of the pastures and have…a tryst. Concentrate, Pippin,” said the Thain when he saw his son smiling. “Cows procreate, too.”

“I know that Father--we had that talk when I was a wee lad, remember? However, if there is a fence in the middle of the pastures cows couldn’t possibly jump over it--it’s just not natural,” answered Pippin, smiling at the absurd notion of large animals jumping over fences.

Paladin smiled, thinking of one of his dear old cousin Bilbo’s songs. “You are in preparation for Thain, son. You are the student and I am the master. In my lessons to you, cows will jump over the moon if I wish them to!” He smiled again, watching his son laugh at his jest. Not too many years hence, Paladin mused, this young hobbit lad sitting in the chair across from him would hold the title of Took and Thain. And he will be a good Thain, thought Paladin. “Anyway,” he said aloud, “as I was saying, some time later the cow gives birth to a calf. The Oldbarns say the calf belongs to them. Pim says it’s hers. Whose calf is it?” He watched as the wheels began to turn in his son’s head, then smiled. “Remember--folks will be looking to you for answers in grievances such as these.”

Pippin scratched his head at hearing the quandary. After a long minute he sighed in frustration, “When the calf is older, it should be mine if I could get it to market fast enough!”

“Now, now, my lad,” said Paladin, pleased to have stumped his clever son for the time being, “don’t get discouraged, whatever you do. I’m giving you a few days to come up with your own solution.”

“Has this particular problem ever met up with you in the past?” asked the apprentice.

Paladin’s smile grew broader as he puffed on his pipe. “Remember that Yule we had fresh meat for supper?” He laughed when Pippin’s jaw dropped. “No! I was only jesting. Fortunately, I have not run into this sort of argument between hobbit families--but it has apparently come up in the past because this is one of the same questions that cousin Ferumbras asked me when I was under his tutelage.”

Pippin asked, “And what did you answer him?” (Got to give the lad an “A” for effort!)

Paladin laughed. “Off you go, lad!” he said, smiling at his son. “You’ve been inside this stuffy office long enough this afternoon. For myself, I shall sign a couple more documents and then call it day. The sun is shining her lovely face upon the meadows today and I mean to enjoy it with a lovely stroll in the garden with my beautiful bride.” Pippin smiled in response; he adored the idea of his grey-haired father and mother still being in love after fifty-three years of marriage.

A nice stroll in the garden was definitely a good idea; Pippin knew that Sapphira urged the children to spend time outdoors in the afternoons--although for the next week or so, Gelly would be spending his time indoors. As Pippin admired the sprouting greens and yellows of spring, he hoped to meet up with Sapphira--after all, he still had a question to ask her.

He sniffed in a breath of the cool, fresh air as he walked past blooming foliage. The sweet fragrance of the lilac bushes made Pippin stop and pause to whiff one of the flowers. As he closed his eyes to enjoy the smell, he imagined heard the joyous laughter of his youngest nephew not too far away. Making his way further into the depths of the garden, Pippin’s diligence was rewarded by the sight of Hilly and Sapphira in the middle of…

“That’s a lass’s game!” Pippin said in dismay, standing in the path of the garden. From his vantage point, he watched in horror as his youngest nephew hopped over a jump rope.

“What are you going on about?” asked Sapphira. In each of her hands she held the knotted ends of one long, length of thin rope that wrapped about the backside of her skirt. Her eyes twinkled with mirth, although Pippin didn’t see amusement in what his eyes beheld.

“That!” he said, waving his finger and pointing to the six year old boy. “I know a skipping-rope when I see it. My sisters used to play that game when we were children.”

“It is a jump rope--and it’s not only a lass’s game,” reasoned Sapphira, though still teasing Pippin. “Show him, Hilly.” With that, the little Hilly demonstrated his newly acquired skill by completely hopping over his rope five times.

“Does Pimpernel know about this?”

Sapphira looked straight at Pippin, “Yes, she does.”

“I won’t have it!” Pippin said firmly, attempting to take the rope from the child, but Hilly wouldn’t let go.

“No!” the child shrieked when Pippin tugged at his rope. He started whimpering, “Miss Sapphira says they jump-rope at the fair--I want to be good at it so I can play, too!”

Pippin looked sidelong at Sapphira. “Now you’ve gone and done it.” He knelt down to be level with the boy, “You can’t skip rope, Hilly--you’ll be the only lad--and folk will…well, they won’t understand. Think of your sweet mummy…and your brothers.”

“And don’t forget your uncle--isn’t that right, Mr. Pippin?” The mirth in Sapphira’s eyes was gone, replaced by the light of battle.

Pippin walked up to Sapphira then whispered firmly into her ear, “If you want to amuse the lad in the privacy of this garden, then I suppose that is my sister’s affair. But I will say this: do not lead my nephew to believe he may openly play this game without consequence--and you know that there will be. Think of that.” He walked over to young Hilfred who watched his uncle with a confused expression. Pippin gently took the lad’s chin in his hand, speaking aloud but softly, “See you later at supper, Hill.”

Pippin strode out of the garden. He still hadn’t asked his pressing question…and now, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to ask it.

TBC

Chapter Four - Third Time’s a Charm?

“Come in,” shouted Pippin, hearing a knock at his door. He set his quill-pen back inside its jar then blotted the paper with a cloth. He looked up from the letter he was writing to see Pimpernel enter his bachelor’s abode.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here,” she said, traipsing up to his desk.

“Probably,” he answered soberly, reliving the garden incident in his head. “Then again,” with a slight grin, he leaned back in his chair, “I can count on four fingers how many times you’ve visited me--merely for the purpose of ‘visiting’ since I moved back here a year ago.”

Pimpernel gazed up towards the ceiling with an expression of guilt. “I know--and I’m sorry,” she replied. “Besides, it isn’t like I don’t see you in the tunnels, at meals, or when you come asking for the lads.”

Pippin nodded amusingly, knowing he had his sister cornered. He then offered the settle nearby. “Why don’t you have a seat before your feet become tired and you leave--not to visit again until summer of next year?”

Sighing, Pimpernel took the seat, “Always the jester, aren’t we?” She and her little brother delighted in banter since childhood. “All right then,” she began, getting serious again, “I came home from helping mother with one of her charitable deeds in town to find my children’s nurse in tears. I asked her why she was upset, however, she kept telling me it was the dust that was affecting her. But there’s not a speck of dust in my apartment, Pip--you know how I am about cleanliness.” At that, Pimpernel scanned her brother’s sitting room; a jacket from yesterday’s meeting still lay over the back of the couch, his fiddle lay on the tea table where he left it last night, a teacup, saucer, and plate complete with muffin crumbs sat on his eating table from elevenses earlier today. Pimpernel closed her eyes to refocus on the matter at hand. “Then Hilly told me that he saw you in the garden…and that you yelled at Sapphira.”

Pippin bristled at his nephew’s report. “I did not yell at her.” He took in a calming breath, then continued, “You ought to know better, Pim--allowing your son to skip rope!”

“It’s jumping rope,” Pimpernel corrected him.

“Doesn’t matter--it’s a lass’s game.” Pippin was ready to go toe-to-toe with his sister on this issue. “The last I looked, I had three nephews living next door--not nieces.”

“First of all,” Pim interjected, “let me expound upon this. Hilly and Sapphira came upon Laurelie (Everard’s six-year-old daughter) and her younger sister playing jump rope in the garden. To Hilly, it looked fun, so he wanted to have a go. Sapphira knows I don’t mind Hilly exploring various sorts of play. When Laurel called to her daughters, they left their ropes with Hilly and Sapphira.”

“She encouraged him to enter the contest at the fair, Pim,” argued Pippin.

Pimpernel patiently smiled at her brother, “He’s a six year old lad, Pip. No one cares if he joins the lasses in a contest of jumping rope. He may raise eyebrows when he’s thirteen, but for now…let him be a six year old. Last week he wanted to play with the doll’s house I had as a girl, this week it’s jump rope…next week it’ll be Tilby’s old hobby-pony. He’s a six year old behaving like a six year old.” She saw Pippin look away as if deep in reflection.

I wish everyone thought like that when Sancho found me…, he thought to himself. At length, he shook away the bad memories, speaking aloud, “I suppose you’re entitled to raise your children how you see fit, but I disagree about lads skipping rope.”

“And you can disagree all you want. We may not always see eye to eye on raising my boys, but they are my children. I do value your opinion nonetheless, having been a lad of their ages. Someday--and hopefully soon--when you have little ones of your own, you’ll understand.” She then stood up, kissing the curls on his forehead in the process. “Furthermore…I seem to recall a very good rope-jumper from not too long ago.”

Pippin looked at his sister, blushing. “I was never a rope-skipper.”

“Oh, yes you were,” Pimpernel chuckled, teasing him further. “Several times I remember you and Pervinca jumping rope together in the yard at Whitwell. One of those times she even had you singing one of the most well-known rhymes in the Shire as you did it. You were very good!”

“I don’t remember any of it,” commented Pippin.

“Relax, Pip,” she said with a wink, “your secret is safe with me.” Pimpernel made her way to the door, taking her leave. "See you at supper?”

Pippin vaguely waved at her, pondering all the other games his sisters had him playing as a wee child. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

Halfway through the door, Pimpernel backed up a couple steps when she decided to add something more. “Oh, and by the way,” she said, looking straight at her brother, “I gave Sapphira the rest of the evening off. She mentioned to me that she was going to be in the library later on.” Pimpernel winked at just the right spots to let Pippin in on what she was divulging.

Pippin tried to contain his amusement. “Is that so?”

“Yes it is--and no more hiding behind closed doors.”

“I…we weren’t hiding--she was anxious about Gelly.”

“Hmm.”

Pippin laughed to himself after he heard the door handle click shut. So…she’ll be in the library, he mused. Pippin mentally dusted off the question he’d been wanting to ask Sapphira for the past two days. Perhaps his temper was a tad out of place this afternoon in the garden. Pippin sat for a while figuring a way to ingratiate himself once more to Sapphira and apologize at the same time.

Hours later, after supper was over, Pippin meandered aimlessly through the tunnels, wandering from one end of the Smials to the other deep in thought. How shall I broach the subject?, he wondered to himself.

Pippin had drawn up a plan in his head. Supposing he casually browsed the shelves…much like Sapphira did yesterday, perhaps he would appear more…clever. More polished. Right--as if he apologized for his ridiculous behaviour and asked lasses out to a notable birthday party every day of the week. She’ll see right through me. Outside the doorway, Pippin took in a deep breath…then took the plunge, walking inside the library.

In his peripheral vision, Pippin saw Sapphira sitting alone at the exact study table he and his nephews would use in the mornings. Perfect! “Good evening, Sapphira.” Pippin heard the lass mumble her greeting in response. He went on with his plan to browse the selection of books, allowing Sapphira to “get used” to his presence. “Reading?” he asked nonchalantly. Turning his back on his quarry, Pippin winced. Of course she’s reading, you idiot!

Sapphira looked up from reading her book, seeing Pippin turn away from her. After his outburst earlier in the garden, should she ignore him? No…yes…no…“Yes,” she said aloud, nearly giving herself a start. No, she told herself silently, then gave him one more glance before setting her eyes to the pages again. She smiled faintly; he was up to something. Probably wants to apologize; I’ll let him wriggle for a bit first, she said to herself.

Oh, no!, Pippin became frantic. My hands are sweating! I can’t do this! A bizarre conflict ensued within Pippin’s head.

His more logical voice piped up, You can’t just sit down at the table with her and expect her to forgive your behaviour in the garden.

Why not? said his heart-felt voice, You can’t stand here forever pretending to choose a book, either. Just ask her and be done with it!

Oh, look!, Pippin mused. He stood upon his tip-toes reaching high up to the topmost shelf, smiling. I can reach all the way up to the top shel--!

It all happened so quickly that even Pippin couldn’t describe it afterward. The delicate balance of the top-most shelf was upset when Pippin rested his hand against it for support. Without warning, the entire collection of Tookish references (kept up high, out of reach of little hands) rained down upon Pippin’s head. There was no time for Pippin to try and recover his balance as he desperately tried to gain hold of something. He looked up just in time to watch the biggest volume he had ever seen plunge in the direction of his head…then darkness engulfed him.

Next thing Pippin knew, he was slumped upon the mat, his throbbing head propped up on a pillow seeing stars swirling in his vision. His eyes, initially blurred, gradually grew clearer until he saw Sapphira’s face hovering over him. This is great, Pippin thought. Just great. “Oh…” he moaned aloud, “…my head.”

“Lie still, Pippin,” offered Sapphira, her features a picture of worry. “The healer is on her way.”

Pippin put the heel of his hand to his eyes to try and to rub the stars away. “I was reaching up to the shelf and…” he trailed off.

Sapphira grinned, “I suppose you came to the library wanting me to apologize again, weren’t you?”

“Uh…ye--,” Pippin sighed his discomfiture. “No…no. I was seeking to apologize to you for behaving like an ass in the garden. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

Sapphira smiled sweetly, “Of course I will. Now, tell me which book you were reaching for and I will fetch it for you. I suspect you will be doing a lot of reading for the rest of the night and into tomorrow.”

“It should be within easy reach now,” Pippin quipped, still rubbing his eyes. How humiliating! “It’s called, ‘How to Behave Like a Fool--and Look Like One, Too.’”

Sapphira couldn’t help but laugh at Pippin’s jest, however self-deprecating it was. “It wasn’t as bad as you think,” she said in response. “Why didn’t you use the footstool?”

“Because….because I’m tall, Sapph--” Pippin winced as he attempted to sit up. “Ooooh…”

“Peregrin Took, you know better than to try and get up.” Donnabelle kneeled down next to her patient, then dropped her leather bag of medicinal treatments down on the mat next to him. Two young tweens stood off to the side, nearer to the door. “My youngest daughter Sada is joining Bella as my newest apprentice--I hope you don’t mind.”

Seeing the two tweens nearby, Pippin let out another groan. “Oy…my lucky day--an audience.”

“Mind your manners, Pippin,” said Donnabelle, examining his eyes, “I give out toffees for good behaviour.”

It took six sturdy hobbits to carry Pippin to his quarters where Donnabelle continued her examination. Four would have been fine for a short distance, but his room was located two tunnels away from the library.

The healer smiled at her patient now lying comfortably in his bed, “How are you feeling, Pippin?” She gently ran her fingers through his honey-brown curls, feeling for lumps and bruising.

“Much better,” he answered, then felt a sharp pain where his cousin’s fingers pressed. “Ouch!” he gasped.

“That huge lump could not have possibly developed just today, lad. Where did you get it?”

Pippin looked round at all the gaping eyes in his room, noting the most important pair of hazel-blue. “It’s an old injury.”

“Nothing else you’d like to tell me?”

“No.”

Donnabelle sighed, “Very well, then.” She stood to address the Thain and his wife standing nearby with anxious expressions on their face. “He should be fine in the morning, but I would suggest that someone stay at his bedside through the night. Call me immediately if he becomes ill; you may give him this if it develops into such. Keep the ice wraps on his head to ease his pain.” She set the small bottle filled with a dark concoction on Pippin’s nightstand. “There is nothing else for me to do at this point.” The conversation continued in a low volume as Paladin and Eglantine walked Donnabelle and her daughter Bella into Pippin’s sitting room. Young Sada had volunteered to watch over Pimpernel’s boys while she waited for her brother’s prognosis.

“Wait!” Pippin called to Donnabelle, and then instantly rued it. He winced, pausing until the ache in his head passed. “Where’s my toffee?” he asked.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” she smiled. “I will see you again tomorrow.”

Pimpernel sighed. “Neither mother or father will be able to stay up through the night; they weary easily,” she spoke so as not to irritate Pippin’s headache, though concerned over her brother’s care. “I will stay by his bedside tonight, however, would you mind keeping watch first for a little while, Sapphira? I should be the one to tell the lads their uncle will be all right.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Sapphira replied, settling into the chair nearest to Pippin’s bed. The several pairs of shirts and breeches draped over the back made the chair back feel a tad lumpy. She let her eyes scan the rest of his room; a red spinning top with chipped paint sat on top his bureau--the string hanging over the side halfway to the floor. His winter cloak lay in a heap under the hook from which it fell from on the inside of his open wardrobe door. However, the two things that caught the young lass’s eye were charcoal drawings of Pippin’s parents that were neatly framed and hung upon the wall right where he could see them at night.

Pippin smiled kindly, though his musing ran rampant inside his sore head. She’s gazing about at my messy room; I knew I should have cleaned it up this morning. Behind Sapphira, Pippin watched his sister leave his bedroom. She started to pull the door shut behind her, then eyeballed her brother and Sapphira, leaving it half-open. Pippin shot his sister an abrasive look right back at her.

“I’m sorry,” Sapphira said to the injured lad, “I couldn’t find the book you were searching for.”

“Not to worry,” said Pippin, “I’m sure I’ll stumble across it eventually.”

Sapphira laughed, “Not literally, I hope!” There was something sweet about the way he looked at her. “Is your headache bad?”

Pippin softly chuckled, “A little, but it’s nothing compared to--” Oops.

“Compared to what?” Sapphira asked.

“Ah…nothing,” he replied, then quickly changed the subject. “Well, Miss Sapphira, it is a complete surprise that you should drop by my…humble dwelling this evening.”

“It was the least I could do after all you have done to help me,” Sapphira smiled, then chuckled. “Your choice of words scares me sometimes, Pippin!”

“Me, too--and I’m the one who utters them.”

Silence passed between the two friends for a few moments. “Well, Master Took, it appears the tables have been turned.”

“So it seems,” answered Pippin. “Do you have any cure for such a predicament?” he asked, absently, using his hands to relieve the pressure of his aching head.

“I don’t,” she held the phial of medicine in her hands, then offered it to Pippin, “but the healer Donnabelle does.”

“You know, I think I may actually use it. My poor head is throbbing.” Pippin uncorked the small bottle then drank a couple sips. Wiping his chin, he smiled, “If you’re expecting me to talk excessively while I doze you’ll be highly disappointed, I’m afraid. My cousin Merry is famous for divulging his innermost secrets while he dreams--not I.”

“I’m staggered that you even suggested such a ploy, Mister Took!” Sapphira said in mock surprise. “I was expecting no such thing.”

“Not even a little?”

Sapphira thought for a second, then answered, “Well, all right--maybe just a wee bit. You still haven’t told me how you got the other lump on your head.”

Pippin sighed; he thought he had changed the subject. “Very well. A secret for a secret. You go first.”

Sapphira sat back in her chair, readying herself for a nice long story. “I already went first two weeks ago--now it’s your turn.”

Pippin took in a deep breath--he wasn’t quite ready to disclose the trauma he and Merry endured while held captive by the Uruk-hai, no matter how friendly Sapphira was. “Trouble is, I don’t recall exactly how I got the lump,” he said, “except that it happened while on my journey South. I woke up one day and there it was.” It was as close to the truth as Pippin was willing to go with his dark experiences. “Enough of secrets for the moment,” said Pippin, quickly taking the conversation onto another path. “What I have is a question.”

The lass smiled with curiosity. “For me?”

Rather than nod and make his headache worse, Pippin instead returned her smile. “It’s that…that…well, it’s that I should like for you to accompany me to my cousin’s birthday party next Sterday.” Dead silence followed for a long moment.

Not quite sure she heard what he said, Sapphira asked, “What was that again?” She then noticed his hands moving under the covers. His hands must be sweating--nerves! Before, when Pippin apologized for his behaviour, and even now with his hands sweating, Sapphira understood Pippin’s overconfidence was all a ruse. Instead of an arrogant young hobbit, Sapphira saw a normal everyday lad trying his utmost not to blunder a very bold request. And Sapphira found this utterly charming.

Pippin explained, “I received an invitation last week to my cousin Estella’s birthday party from Merry, my other cousin--they’re married…but he’s more like a brother, so I guess that makes Stella more like a sister-in-law because she’s married to him, however, both of them--”

“Yes,” Sapphira answered softly, then smiled when Pippin’s discourse continued uninterrupted.

“--are my dearest…of friends…” Pippin stopped his speech when he realized she had answered…yes! A broad smile appeared on his face when the heavy weight he had been carrying over the past two days had been lifted. “You will go with me?”

“Of course,” she said. “There’s just one tiny little problem though.”

Pippin frowned, trying to figure out what this new obstacle would be. “What’s that?”

“How quickly you forget; I am gainfully employed by your sister.”

Relived that the hindrance was only Pimpernel, Pippin responded, “Leave that to me. I’ll talk to my sister--she can never say no to me.”

~ ~ ~

“No.”

“But Pimpernel! She’ll only be gone a few days--we can’t fly to Buckland, you know.” Pippin was glad that Sapphira wasn’t around to see him eat his words. Not long after Sapphira agreed to accompany him to the party, Pimpernel returned from talking to the lads, which meant it was time for Sapphira to take over watching the boys.

“I appreciate you watching the lads after I already gave you the night off,” Pimpernel said to Sapphira as she left the room. “I do promise to make it up to you soon.”

That’s it!, Pippin thought. He pulled out his trump card. “A few minutes ago you promised Sapphira to make it up to her.”

“And I will,” said Pimpernel. “Are you assuming that just because I’m a widow I wouldn’t want to go to Stella’s birthday party, too?”

Pippin sighed in defeat. “No.” Well…he did assume it, and he knew he was wrong for that. “I didn’t realize you also got an invitation.”

“Well I did. Merry is like a brother to us, Pip,” she said, “why would he not send me one?”

“I’m sorry, Pim. But what am I going to do now? I’ve already asked Sapphira if she would go with me.”

A faint smile appeared on Pim’s lips. “You’ll go to the party as you planned--with Sapphira.” She watched Pippin’s face light up. “I can’t go,” she explained. “Gelly is on punishment, remember? I just enjoy watching you squirm!”

Pippin let out a long, exasperated breath. His poor emotions had been topsy-turvy all evening. He watched her grin from ear to ear and couldn‘t help but smile at her. “Pimpernel Took-Brownfield! If it weren’t for my aching head needing my pillow, you’d be wearing its goose-feathers by now!”

Things went quiet for a few minutes while Pippin thought about Gelly and the punishment dealt out by his mother. “I wanted to have a talk with Gel this evening, but I don’t think I’m going to feel up to much more talking until tomorrow morning.”

“He’ll survive until then,” said Pimpernel, “but perhaps he will talk to you. He talks to me of everyday things, of course, but not so much of matters that are important to lads.”

“There are plenty of things important to lads his age. I remember turning thirteen; becoming aware of grown-up ways and wanting to emulate them. And…while we’re on the subject of growing up, I think part of Gelly’s trouble is that he’s too old for a nursemaid, Pim. He’s at the age where he’s beginning to leave childhood behind and learn about what older lads do.”

“Who else will mind him while I’m on errand with mother?”

“He’s old enough to mind himself with a little guidance. There are plenty of adult hobbits around the Smials if he needs help. Give him a chance to prove himself.”

Pimpernel wasn’t convinced. “So far, Gelly has only proven that he knows how to run off without telling anyone where he’s going. When his behaviour improves, then I’ll consider what you’ve said.”

TBC

Chapter Five - Roses and Rhymes

Pippin’s eyelids fluttered under the deep shade of crimson, feeling the heat from the bright sun shining upon his face. Someone please shut the curtains, Pippin whispered to himself, feeling his headache emerge from hidden crevices within his brain. Then he heard the murmuring of soft voices nearby. “…have him….at least until supper…Yes, I believe so…” The first whispering voice belonged to Donnabelle. Pippin opened his eyes to see whom the other voice belonged to. Two people stood near the door to his bedroom: his father and Pimpernel. Pippin mused that his father wasn’t much of a whisperer, so the other voice had to belong to his sister. He stirred under the blankets, moaning softly, “Oh…what time is it?”

All three hobbits turned to see the patient wake. “Good morning, Pippin,” Paladin greeted his son. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling…all right,” Pippin replied. He reached his hand up to his head to discover exactly what it was that weighed his head down. Feeling a damp towel with melting ice, Pippin let his fingers follow the trail of water down his temple to the pillow; it was also damp. He pulled off the wet towel. “But I asked the time, Father. Do you know what time of the morning it is?”

Paladin then gave a brief smile to his son, answering, “It’s nigh unto noon, son.”

“Noon?” Pippin said with alarm. “It--it can’t be noon!”

“I’m afraid it is,” Pimpernel put in. “Well, in twenty minutes it will be. You’ve slept through the entire morning.”

“But…” Pippin wondered aloud. “My headache is a little better…it’s not as bad as yesterday evening.”

“That is probably due to the restful sleep you’ve had,” said the healer. “Pimpernel became worried when elevenses came and went and there was still no hint of you waking. I fear it was I who most likely interrupted your slumber; mere moments ago I pried open your eyelids to examine your eyes.”

Pippin took in a long, deep yawn, “Well…I am awake now,” he said sitting up. “I think I should like a bit of breakfast.” He started to throw open the covers to rise up.

“No, Pippin,” said Donnabelle, walking in Pippin’s direction, “I want you to remain in bed--at least until supper. By then your headache should be almost gone.”

“But I feel fine now,” Pippin repeated his earlier statement. “My father and I have an important meeting this afternoon.” Pippin sincerely looked forward to spending the afternoon fishing with his father.

“We can always reschedule that meeting,” said Paladin, winking his eye. “The important thing is to allow your head to fully heal from your…accident.”

“I suppose we can,” Pippin answered, looking away from his father’s gaze.

“In fact, I will go at once to my study and plan it all out,” said the elder Took.

“I shall look forward to it,” said Pippin somewhat passively. There’s nothing to plan for another fishing trip, he thought. He’s going to his office to take a nap.

“Do stay in bed, Pippin,” said Donnabelle, then turned to walk out of the room behind Paladin.

“I’ll send someone in with a breakfast tray, Pip,” said Pim before taking her leave.

Pippin half-dozed in the peace and tranquillity of his bedroom; nevertheless, quiet could be loud at times. His headache grew again, bit by bit, as did the silence in waiting for his breakfast. At this point, Pippin would welcome any company that would divert his attention away from his aching head. Perhaps food would help chase it away. At length, he heard a knock upon his bedroom door. “Come in,” he answered, wincing at the magnification of his own voice upon the walls. The door creaked open, seemingly of its own accord, then a familiar face emerged.

“Hullo, Uncle Pippin,” said Gelly as he entered. In his hands, the lad precariously balanced a tray laden with three bowls of steaming food, a small pitcher of apple juice, and a glass full of the same liquid. Trailing him inside the room was a young servant named Dora carrying yet another tray that had a plate, silverware, and napkins on it.

“Can ye manage, master Gelly?” asked the young tween.

“Aye,” said Gelly, walking slowly, eyes locked on the contents of the glass so as not to spill more juice than he already did.

Pippin scooted up in his bed to receive his breakfast then reached out a hand to help his nephew as he drew near. Pippin politely waited for the servant to leave the room before teasing the lad. “This is a wonderful surprise, Gel. Did you escape your lockhole or was your mum merciful, taking pity on her wee prisoner?”

Gelly rolled his eyes at hearing his uncle’s remark. “I was let out, thank you!”

“I notice that you’re talking to me this morn--, I mean, this afternoon,” said Pippin.

“I wasn’t angry at you, Uncle Pip,” Gelly answered dolefully, sitting down in the same chair his mother vacated a short while ago. “I was angry…but I didn’t know who to be angry at. No one seems to listen to me.”

“I listen to you,” said Pippin, trying to reach the second tray for his plate. “Or at least I try to.” Gelly got up from the chair to help Pippin grab it then began to spoon out servings of eggs and sausage onto his uncle’s plate.

“Mmm--this looks delicious!” said Pippin. “Eggs, sausage, bread, butter, fresh cucumbers, and hot buttered mushrooms!”

“Don’t you still have a headache?” asked Gelly in hopes that his uncle’s stomach would not have much of an appetite.

“I do, but it won’t get in the way of eating,” Pippin replied while using a fork to impale a few mushrooms. As he savoured the flavour of the juicy delicacy inside his mouth, Pippin saw the hungry look in the youngster’s eyes. “Come on, Gel,” he said, inviting the lad to sit next to him on the bed. “Perhaps I might need a bit of help.”

“I already ate at elevenses,” replied Gelly unpersuasively.

“But you’re a growing hobbit-boy--I know you must be hungry again.”

Gelly took his uncle’s invitation, climbing onto the tall hobbit’s bed. “How did you know?”

“I keep telling you,” said Pippin, trying to talk around a mouthful of food. “I was your age not too long ago.”

“But that was ages ago, Uncle.”

Pippin almost choked. “It was not. Anyway…speaking of ages, I wanted to talk to you yesterday, but I had a wee bit of misfortune.”

Grinning, Gelly swallowed his bite-full of eggs. “Yes--the whole smial is talking about it.”

“Thank you, Gelly,” said Pippin, sounding rather stoical, then gazed thoughtfully at the lad. “But…I think I know what’s bothering you. You despise being minded by a nursemaid, don’t you?” There was a pause, virtually imperceptible as Gelly continued to eat, yet he said nothing. Pippin knew he hit the proverbial nail on the head.

At length, Gelly looked up at his uncle, “She’s really a nice lady, but…I’m almost a teen.”

Pippin went on with addressing his nephew. “I talked to your mum last night, but she won’t agree to your independence until you change your behaviour. And I tend to agree.”

“But Uncle Pippin--the lads laugh at me,” Gelly implored, “calling me a faunt.”

“You have been behaving like a faunt,” Pippin commented, letting his words sink into the boy’s head. “Faunts toddle off to heaven knows where, heedless of dangers that lurk round corners. Yes--you will be thirteen in less than two months, and my advice to you is that you redeem your mother’s trust. Instead of running off, why don’t you volunteer to help Miss Sapphira with your brothers? Accept more responsibilities as the eldest brother; they look up to you, you know. Hilly is the youngest and benefit’s the most from Miss Sapphira, so offer to help out with Tilby when she’s busy. Assist him with his studies while she is giving Hilly his bath for the night or helping him choose clothes for the day.”

“If I do this, then mum will allow me to come and leave as I please?”

Pippin laughed, “Probably not until you’re a tween, but I know she will indeed see that you’ve grown to the point where you no longer need Miss Sapphira. Do you understand what I’m saying, Gelly?”

Gelly nodded, “I suppose.”

“Good--then I fully expect Tilby’s multiplication sums to improve considerably with your help.”

Later that evening, Pippin was released as Donnabelle’s patient. After he ate supper with his family, Pippin decided to take a stroll out in the garden to watch the sun set. He walked slowly in order to fully enjoy the fragrance of newly cut grass and the blossoms of spring. While Pippin meandered along the path taking in the beautiful golden hues of the sky, he spied his favourite bench near the rose bushes overlooking the rolling green meadows below. As he drew nearer, he noticed a lass sitting there all alone.

“Good evening, Sapphira,” he said, waiting for the invitation to join her.

“Hullo, Pippin,” she answered. Too late to run off, she thought, he’s probably already noticed my red eyes. “I’m not much company now, but please--sit down if you have a mind to.”

To Pippin, this normally merry lass sounded rather nasal. He took the seat next to her, gazing tenderly while he did so. “You’ve been crying.”

“Yes, Pippin, I have.” She sniffed, looking away to wipe her cheek.

“I’m sorry--that was rude of me,” he said. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” asked Sapphira, her eyes fixed on the cuff of her sleeve, fidgeting with the button.

“It’s just that…well, it makes me sad to see you thus.”

“Don’t be--please.”

“Would I be intruding if I asked you why you were crying?” asked Pippin, handing the tween his handkerchief. (Yes, he actually started carrying them a few years ago.)

“Thank you,” she said, taking the soft white cloth. “No, you wouldn’t be intruding, but…I really am not ready to talk about it.”

Pippin wondered if Sapphira was weeping over her long lost love…then again, he didn’t want to think on that. “Perhaps you long for home?” he said kindly, offering her--or himself--a way of escape.

“Perhaps,” she answered, keeping her sadness to herself. “My sister says that I’m emotional.”

Ah--something to talk about. “Which sister? You mentioned before that you have two of them--and a brother.”

“Yes--on both accounts. Diamond says that I’m emotional, and Gemma says that I’m bossy.”

Pippin smiled, then laughed. “Is that so? And what about--Valdigrim, is it?”

Sapphira dried her tears once more, then smiled. “Very good, Pippin--you remembered. He is the youngest and I am eldest, so to him everyone is bossy.”

“Poor lad!” said Pippin, casually taking Sapphira’s hand in his to ease her a bit. “I can understand his grief,” he winked at her. “I grew up with three older sisters as well. Tell me more about your family. What does your father do?”

If Sapphira was surprised at Pippin holding her hand, she didn’t show it. She rather liked the feel of his hand; warm, gentle. Sapphira took in a deep breath then slowly let it out before she spoke. “My father died when I was sixteen.”

“I’m sorry--I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You’re not prying--it’s been a while…and I can talk about it without crying. Well…hopefully not tonight anyway. He was umm…he was trodden beneath a pony inside my uncle’s barn.”

The sun had set, leaving the twilight to shine upon the tears welling in Sapphira’s eyes. Finally, Pippin put his arm around the lass to console her, pulling her close to his shoulder to lay her head upon. Pippin affectionately squeezed her hand as he leaned back in his seat to let her weep for her father.

When the tears passed, Sapphira wiped her eyes again. She let her own shoulder nestle underneath Pippin’s, her head rested upon his chest. “I’m a blubbering mess this evening,” she sniffled.

“No, you’re not,” Pippin answered softly, loosing her hand to tenderly hold her chin. Their eyes met; her eyes were hazel pools and in them Pippin saw sadness…loneliness. He leaned in closer, wanting to kiss those things away…yet he did not. Had their friendship come this far? Instead, he looked away, blushing. “I’m sorry,” he said, fixing his gaze outward towards the meadow. The distant rolling hills glowed indigo with the dim light of the rising new moon.

Sapphira regained her composure after nearly losing herself in the depths of Pippin’s green eyes…his lips. Within the span of a moment, she realized that this lad was the only friend that she had made since arriving at Great Smials over a month ago. Pippin had always been kind to her, offering his friendship to a tweenaged lass who indeed seemed friendless and far away from home. Yes, Sapphira was lonely; she missed home…in many ways. Without forethought…

While Pippin gazed out toward the meadow, he felt his own chin being pulled back into the direction whence it came…and then…a gentle, warm kiss upon his lips. He parted his lips in answer, deepening the kiss. Pippin warmly cupped his hand around her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb as his lips pressed against hers.

Sapphira felt her body begin to respond to Pippin’s touch…his passion. She quickly rose up from her seat, red-faced and stammering, “I…I have to put the children to bed.” Pippin said nothing, watching the young maiden hasten away towards the garden gate.

* * *

In the days leading up to Estella’s birthday party, Pippin often relived that kiss in the garden--and each time it grew more in the “seeing”. Chance did not afford them time alone as it did that evening, however, the pair managed affectionate smiles and greetings in the hallways until the eve of their departure to Buckland arrived.

After morning studies were over, Sapphira arrived to claim the boys as usual, however, when she did so, Pippin had yet another fantasy of the kiss they shared several days ago. This time even Pippin shook himself awake, I need to get out for a sniff of air…or take a cold bath.

“I am very happy that you have come back to us, Pippin,” said Eglantine, waking beside her son arm-in-arm. “We missed you so much while you were away living at Crickhollow,” she said, patting his hand, then stopped walking. Eglantine said more seriously, “I missed you, my dear--and yes, your father also, though I fear he also missed his fishing companion.”

Pippin smiled at his her words. “Well…I am back,” he said, kissing his mother’s cheek.

Eglantine gave her son a sidelong glance as they resumed walking. “Are you…sleeping well?”

“I’m fine,” he answered evasively, admiring the leaves of the shrubbery shimmering in the warm afternoon breeze. Pippin did not want to think about those hideous nightmares at the moment. “Are you getting tired, Mother, or shall we go further on to the rose garden?”

“I should like to see my prize winning namesake,” she smiled, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “I believe Pimpernel and the boys are spending time there this lovely afternoon.” She winked at her boy, “Pimpernel let Gelly come outside for his good behaviour.”

“Very well, then!” Pippin smiled; Gelly seemed to be taking his advice to heart after all. “Onward we shall go.” The pair leisurely made their way along the winding paths towards the rose garden. As Pippin saw the white-washed inner gate draw near, he could hear raucous laughter with intermittent singing of children’s rhymes.

Eglantine gave a small cry of joy, “Ah! The dears are playing games.”

“Indeed they are,” Pippin remarked dryly. Once again, he saw young Hilfred with a skipping rope in his hands. After the little talk his sister had with him, Pippin said nothing, although his expression said all.

“Oh come, Pippin!” said Pimpernel, peering from round a high trellis filled with pink rose blossoms and buds. She, too, held a rope though somewhat larger than her son’s. “Why don’t you try it? I just know you’ll have fun!” she winked at him.

“I will not, thank you!” Pippin glared at his sister’s invitation.

“Why not, Pippin?” asked Eglantine. “You used to enjoy it when you were a wee lad.” Pimpernel and Gelly burst out laughing.

“I don’t remember, Mother,” said Pippin, scowling at his deep, dark childhood secret being revealed.

“We have an extra rope, Pip,” said Pim, laughing. “Here--take it!” Pippin let the rope deflect off his body while he assisted his mother to settle upon the bench. Pimpernel teased her brother all the more. “Oh don’t be such a killjoy!”

“I’ll just sit here with mother--” Just then Pippin noticed Sapphira holding her own length of rope on the other side of the court. “--and watch.”

“Watch me, Grandma!” shouted Hilly. With the skill of a beginner, the small boy hopped with both feet as he twirled the rope over his head, singing:

“Hair pins, bonnets, ribbons, and lace,

All to show my pretty face.

Ruby lips from a sweet, sweet kiss,

Soon to be in wedded bliss!”

Eglantine clapped her hands, “That is very good, love!” Then showered her youngest grandson with kisses as he nestled between his uncle and grandmother on the bench.

“No, no, no, no, no!” said Pippin standing up. He couldn’t take it anymore. “This is all wrong. My nephews do NOT wear bonnets, ribbons, nor lace.”

“That’s what Tilby and I have been saying all along, Uncle,” said Gelly. “We rather like jumping rope but we refuse to sing those silly lass-rhymes.”

Pippin took the rope from his sister threw at him then stood thinking hard for a moment. “I’ve got one.” With the skill of an expert, Pippin began to jump over his rope as he let it sail overhead, then sang:

“Toads, frogs, fireflies, snails,

Don’t forget the puppy-dog tails;

Dirty breeches, dirty face

Can you keep up with the pace?

Don’t be angry, don’t be sad,

These are things that make a lad.”

Having finished his turn at the rope, Pippin briefly bowed, accepting everyone’s applause. When he stood up he especially took note of Sapphira fervently clapping her hands and smiling. “Here you go, Pim,” he said, giving his sister the rope back.

Pimpernel gave her little brother a nod of appreciation. “No more?” she asked. “That was very entertaining.”

“Not, I pray, for a long time,” said Pippin sitting down, and a tad out of breath. Instantly his three nephews gathered round him for more ‘lad’ rhymes. “Tomorrow,” begged Pippin, “if you all behave during your study time--we’ll make up more of them.”

“Pimpernel, dear,” Eglantine called to her daughter, “please come sit with me for a bit. I must speak with you about the food hampers we’re taking to the Loomweavers on Sunday.”

While Pimpernel was busy discussing the project with her mother, the boys felt a sudden urge to refine their rope jumping skills--while singing lad songs. With everyone’s attention distracted, Pippin nonchalantly made his way over to Sapphira.

Sapphira eyeballed him, “So…you’re a bit practiced at skipping rope, aren’t you?”

Pippin blushed, “Maybe…but the lads used to ruthlessly tease me. That is why I reacted the way I did a few days ago.” He was relieved to see the lass smile and nod. “Are you ready for an extremely long carriage ride tomorrow?” Pippin asked her.

Sapphira replied while coiling up her rope, “I rode all the way from Long Cleeve, remember?”

Pippin thought on that for a moment. “True,” he answered, smiling. “You’ll love Brandy Hall. It is…well, you’ll see. It’s much the same as the Great Smials, yet different--delightful in its own way.”

Sapphira smiled, “I am looking forward to it.”

TBC

Thank you to my mentor, Pearl Took, for her assistance with the verbage in the kissing scene.

Chapter Six - She’s The One

“I’m glad that we are riding to Brandy Hall together,” said Pippin. Then added while puffing on his pipe, “We don’t get to spend as much time together like we once did.”

The little group stopped to have a picnic luncheon in the lovely glade between two groves of trees; now it was time to start on the road again. Instead of two separate carriages, Pippin and Sapphira chose to ride to Buckland with Everard and his family. The privacy of their own carriage would have been nice, however, that would have raised a few eyebrows as well. The two lads decided to take one last stroll among the wild flowers of the meadow while waiting for the lasses.

“That’s because I have a family to tend to these days,” replied Everard, blowing smoke rings into the air. “You’ll have a family soon enough--before you know it, you and Sapphira will be having little ones of your own.”

Everard’s comment made Pippin sputter. Waving away the pipe smoke with his other hand, he said, “We’re not officially courting, cousin.”

“Yet,” Everard put in with a wink. “I’m glad to see you back on your feet, setting your eyes on one lass to settle down with and get married. You’re the last of our lot, you know.”

Pippin responded, “I know. However, bear in mind that I am the youngest of that lot.”

“True,” said Everard, “but you’re not a tween anymore, Pippin. I enjoy being married and so will you.” The young father became thoughtful as he spoke. “Sharing smiles and memories with a lass that I love…” He smiled and waved, spying his wife and daughters emerge from the distant greenery. Laurel was laughing as she bounced three year old Thistle in her arms. A joyous gleam shown bright in Everard’s green eyes, “…and wee ones to make my life that much more of an adventure. We’re expecting again, Pip.”

“I congratulate you and Laurel on your third child!” Pippin replied then hastily added, “Yet for me, all in due time, cousin.” He smiled at seeing Sapphira modestly wave at him from up ahead. Walking at her side, hand in hand, was six year old Laurelie who also waved. He waved at both in return.

“Thank you, Pip,” Everard responded to the best wishes. His brow crinkled in thought, “Why isn’t Pimpernel coming to Stella’s party?”

“She wanted to,” answered Pippin, “but Gelly has had a mind of his own lately.”

“Ah, that’s right,” said Everard, nodding in recollection. “That will happen with young teens, or soon-to-be teens. Thankfully, I won’t be facing that for a while.” With that said, he and Pippin emptied their pipes as they walked toward the carriage.

~ ~ ~

“Goodnight, Ev,” said Merry, rising up from his chair to hug his cousin. “I am very happy to hear that you and Laurel will be blessed yet again.”

After arriving at Brandy Hall, the small group was shown to their rooms in order to freshen up for a late (second) supper. Having ate at the best table Buckland had to offer, little by little, fatigue from the long journey and well-filled corners overtook the hobbits. The first ones to succumb to fatigue were Everard and Laurel’s children. They became cranky, so Laurel ushered her crying lasses to bed. Estella followed with her and Merry’s wee brood of two children (so far): Kalimas, two and a half, and Holly, six months old. Wanting to help with the children, Sapphira accompanied the lasses.

“Thank you, Merry,” said Everard, embracing his cousin in return. “I promised Thistle that I’d tell her a story when I tucked her in.”

“Perhaps this time next year you’ll be tucking your son in bed!” Merry put in with a chuckle. “But…being a father as well, I know you’ll be happy with either one, as long as the child is hale.”

Everard smiled, giving Merry’s shoulder a friendly pat, “So true. Then again, maybe this time next year Pippin will be joining our growing group of fathers!”

“I am making no promises,” Pippin jested in return.

Everard gave a smile to his friends, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Ev,” said Pippin, lifting his glass in salute to his cousin. Pippin was tired, too, however, he wanted the chance to speak confidentially with Merry. He got up, walking over to the hearth to relight his pipe. Pippin held a long, thin piece of kindling over the hearth fire then set it to his pipe bowl, puffing on the stem until the leaf burned a bright orange. He waited patiently while Everard and Merry finished sharing a few private words of their own. Finally, when Everard shut the door behind him, Pippin walked back to the couch and sat down. “So, what do you think?”

Merry's mind was still on Everard's last words.  He raised his eyebrows in question, “Hmm?”

“I’m asking you what you think of her.”

The elder cousin meandered to the hearth, also relighting his pipe. “You mean Sapphira?”

“Of course I mean Sapphira!” said Pippin, puffing on his pipe. “I just travelled well over fifty miles across the Shire with her. Who else should I be speaking of?”

Merry also relit his pipe in the same fashion as his younger cousin. Settling himself in a chair across from Pippin, he asked, “Who else? Hmmm….Posey Headstrong, perhaps? You forgot to tell me, dear cousin, that you were no longer courting her. I sent her an invitation, thinking that you two would arrive together.”

For a mere second Pippin actually worried over the presence of his former love occupying the same room as he, then shook it away. “A little over two months ago,” began Pippin, his voice taking on a far away tone, “she returned to me the locket that I gave her at Yule, telling me that she didn’t love me anymore.”

“I’m truly sorry, Pip,” Merry said with sincerity. “Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?” he asked, “We’ve always been close. With all the letters you have written me this past month, you never once indicated you and Posey were no longer a couple.”

Pippin sighed at the memory. “I suppose it was because I was deeply hurt, Merry. I would have sworn with red ink before seven witnesses that she was lying when she told me she didn’t love me--I even told her so as she dropped the necklace into my hand."  Pippin stared at the hearth, "And here I sit, two months later--not a letter, message, nor even a kiss goodbye. Maybe she wasn’t lying. When Sapphira arrived at Great Smials, she seemed to be everything opposite of Posey. Her hair…her smile, her demeanour. All I wanted to do was forget about the previous ten months.”

“Unfortunately,” Merry said, getting up to place a sympathetic arm around his friend, “looks like they’re coming back to haunt you. Posey’s coming to the party tomorrow. And as far as I can tell, she is coming with someone. I shall seat them both at the far end of the table to keep you two from running into each other.” Merry gave his cousin’s shoulder a friendly squeeze. “Now, what do I think of Sapphira? I think she is a nice lass, but that is about as fair an assessment that I can give you at this point. I don’t know her well enough to say anything further.” Merry leaned back against the couch pillows, continuing after a slight pause, “But I do know you. Go slow, Pip. You just came out of a long relationship where you nearly proposed marriage. Am I right?”

Pippin sulked, giving no reply to that question. “Merry…” he hesitated, unsure if he should disclose what he was about to say, yet plunged ahead. “I…I think I’m in love with her.”

Merry looked hard at his younger cousin. “Pip, you’ve only known Sapphira for how long? Four weeks?”

“Five, if you count tomorrow,” Pippin replied. “I feel as if I could spend the rest of my life with her. She’s clever, funny--and jests with me in the same manner that I do with her. She wears her hair up most of the time, but when she lets it down…” Pippin smiled, recalling the long plait of curls behind Sapphira’s head“…she is so beautiful.”

Sighing, Merry replied, “Pip, you give your heart away so easily. Please don’t put yourself in a position for it to be trampled upon yet again.”

“I don’t intend to be hurt this time, Merry,” Pippin replied with confidence. Although something deep in Pippin’s heart still needed convincing. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it…then again, maybe he was afraid to. He firmly believed that Sapphira was the one…and he wanted her to believe it, too.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the children’s nursery, Sapphira sat upon the floor keeping Kali occupied while his mother nursed his baby sister. At the moment, the small child was enthralled with a spinning top going round and round without falling. “Mummy, see!” Kali shrieked with delight. When it stopped and fell to the side, he shouted to Sapphira, “Mowe!”

“So tell me, Sapphira,” said Estella, “how long have you known Pippin?”

“I met him the day I arrived in Tuckborough. He waited for me all morning while my carriage was delayed in Waymeet. I did not realize at first who he was, and well…” Sapphira chuckled at her own misconception of the situation, “I was tricked by the best.” She then went into full account of the joke Pippin played on her while kept Kali occupied with his toy.

Stella laughed softly so as not to disturb her nursing infant. “Both Pippin and my husband are notorious for pulling pranks such as that. But they also have such huge hearts.” She sighed, her own heart swelling with love at the thought of her dearest. However, because Merry loved Pippin like a brother, so did Stella…and she had to know exactly what this lass thought of her “brother-in-law”. “Do you love him?” she asked bluntly.

Sapphira wound the string around the toy for yet another go, putting off her answer to Estella’s question for the moment. Finally, the toy was off and spinning; Sapphira stared at it while the colours turned into a swirling haze.

“Sapphira?”

The young nursemaid looked up at her newest friend. “I…I don’t know.”

* * *

“Goodnight, Pip,” said Merry, walking alongside his dearest cousin. They stopped just short of the guest tunnel before bidding one another a good night. Merry and Estella‘s quarters were next to the Master’s apartment in his private tunnel. “I hope you’re right about Sapphira.”

“Goodnight, Merry. And I am,” Pippin answered resolutely. He then walked the guest tunnel until he saw door number 4. Pippin imagined that he heard sniffling behind door number 5; he went to investigate. There was no mistake about it. He knocked, “Sapphira? Are you all right?”

For a long moment, the sniffling stopped, no other sound came forth. Then the door opened, revealing the same sad face bearing tear stains that Pippin ran into near a week ago. “You’re weeping again,” he said taking her hand in his. “Please talk to me, Sapphira. You can confide in me--I would never betray your heart.”

“I…,” Sapphira paused to wipe away a tear, “I…not now, Pippin. It’s past midnight and I’m tired, which is probably the reason why I’m weepy. I promise you I’ll feel better in the morning.”

Pippin replied softly, taking the lass into a light embrace. “What I want is for you to talk to me--today or tomorrow, no matter what the consequences are.” He cupped her face tenderly in his hands, “I love you, Sapphira.” In his heart, Pippin knew that he ought to wait for some sort of response from Sapphira, but he didn’t. Instead, he peered into her hazel-blue eyes the same way that he did back in the garden at Great Smials. This time, however, he was going to initiate it; he leaned down and he kissed her. For a long while the couple stood inside the threshold of Sapphira’s room in loving embrace. At length, Pippin was the one to break away. “Goodnight, Sapphira. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

Still melancholy, Sapphira leaned against the doorjamb deep in thought for a long minute, touching her ruby lips with her fingers. She whispered in reply, “Goodnight, Pippin.”

TBC

Chapter Seven - No Troubles at All

The following day, in the afternoon hours before the party, Pippin and Merry were busy in the Grand Room of Brandy Hall setting up the chairs and couches for the guests to sit in and socialize. After hefting one large sofa around the room three times to see where it fit best, Pippin finally suggested setting it away from the wall yet more toward the dance floor.

“I suppose you’re right,” said Merry, scanning the largest room at Brandy Hall. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his shirtsleeve. “This angle just won’t do. I can see how it appears that all the seating is on this side of the room.”

“All the shy folk will collect here like wallflowers,” said Pippin while rubbing his tired eyes.

Merry smirked, “Just how late did you stay up?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Merry.”

Merry grinned, “Yesterday you told me you were in love with Sapphira. I know you didn’t go straight away back to your room after we parted at half past eleven.” He heard his younger cousin mumbling something. “I’m sorry--what was that?”

“I said it was after midnight,” Pippin repeated. “And before you object, we didn’t do anything…naughty.”

Merry laughed, “So I can take it that I won’t find you and Sapphira in a darkened corner of a hallway locked in a kiss?”

“That was a long time ago, Merry,” Pippin put in. “I was only twenty-five years old.”

Merry laughed, “I’ll never forget the look on Frodo’s face when he caught you with none other than Angelica! She was thirty-three--my age, Pip!”

“She was thirty-four,” Pippin corrected Merry, taking his end of the heavy couch once more. “I can’t help it if the older lasses admired me.”

“She was drunk, if I recall, Pippin,” Merry grunted, hefting his side of the couch as well. “Let’s set it down over here--we need a lot of room for dancing.”

“Well, it was her idea all the same,” Pippin replied in an attempt to dust over his scandalous deed. “What was I to do, refuse her affections? It would have damaged her for the rest of her life.”

Merry shook his head in disbelief, chuckling. “You’re remarkable, Pippin. Just don’t get caught in a darkened hallway with your heart unguarded this time round.”

Pippin understood his cousin to be speaking of the present--of Sapphira. “I don’t intend to, Merry. Believe it or not, I told Sapphira how I felt last night--and she hasn’t run away yet.” He said the last part half-jestingly.

Merry stood up stiffly, rubbing the small of his back. He was satisfied that the couch was now the centrepiece of a group of furniture more toward the back of the room where everyone could be social. “And what did she say in return?”

“I didn’t give her the chance to say anything,” Pippin answered truthfully, blushing as he remembered what actually happened afterward, “because I kissed her in a very well-lit doorway.”

Resigned to the fact that he would be watching over his younger cousin’s heart until finally off and married, Merry finally gave up. “You’d better go and start getting ready for the party. Stell and I will knock on yours and Everard’s door later when children’s minders arrive.”

* * *

“Sapphira--are you ready yet?” Pippin knocked upon the door and then waited for the door to open. “The party will be starting in less than half an hour.” Instead, the door only cracked a little as Sapphira’s face peered between the gap.

“No, I am not,” Sapphira answered, near tears. “Come inside--quickly.”

Pippin did as he was bid…only to find the most comely lass in the Shire--or Buckland for that matter--wearing a fine pale blue party frock. Then she turned round, holding her long curls up and out of the way with one hand while trying to keep the bodice of her dress from slipping away with the other. The shoulders of Sapphira’s dress sagged as a result of the buttons going from her neck to the middle of her back not being fastened. In all sincerity she asked, “Stella and Laurel are busy with their children…no one else can help me. I have fixed the buttons I could reach, but my arms are so tired that I simply cannot reach any higher. I don’t know what else to do--would you be able to fasten them, please?”

Pippin nearly gasped. He never had seen so much skin of any lass before now, let alone Sapphira’s bare shoulders. “All right,” he answered, tongue cleaving to the roof of his mouth. The feel of her silky-soft skin took his breath away as he fastened the first few buttons. Recovering his wits, Pippin spoke up. “You know, if you were my wife,” he began, then decided to take a more direct approach. “If we were married, you and I should be very, very late to this party.” Finishing the last button at her neck, he then draped his arms about her, bringing her close to him.

“We should?” she smiled, feeling his passionate embrace.

Pippin nuzzled the hollow of her neck, giving it a tender kiss. Sapphira turned round in his arms, gently running her fingers through his hair then rested them on the nape of his neck. She pulled him toward her until their lips pressed together. Pippin lost count of all the kisses until he heard someone approach the doorway.

“Sapphira, dear--the baby is down for her nap and Miss Daisy finally arrived to mind her and Kali. I can help you button your dress now.”

Pippin stiffened. Sapphira gently put her fingers to his lips to signal Pippin to stay behind the door and remain quiet.

Sapphira opened the door just enough to show Estella that she had already had help. “A good friend came by and assisted me,” she said, hoping no further explanation would be required.

Beyond the door, Stella spied a certain reflection in the looking-glass inside the foyer. Taking a step back into the hallway, Stella saw that her husband had gone on to greet the last of the local guests. “Come on out, Peregrin,” she called out, using his given name. “Merry had to leave to greet some late arrivals.”

“I was the one to help her button up,” Pippin offered, stepping into view. “She was so upset.”

“I know that you’re nothing but a gentlehobbit, Pip, but others may not be so quick to agree. Be careful, all right?”

“I’m sorry, Stella,” said Sapphira. “It’s all my fault. Everyone seemed so busy…and being a nursemaid, I understand that children need looking after.”

“Yes, children need tending to because they don’t know how to be patient--unlike adults.” Estella knew her comment was not lost on the young couple. She then smiled, “You both look absolutely splendid! Let’s go now and get Everard and Laurel. We are going to have a wonderful time at my birthday party!”

* * *

“Hullo, Miss Posey,” said Merry, albeit a bit stiffly. “I’m glad you could make it to Stella’s party.” He looked about her, “Where is your escort?”

“My brother brought me here then returned home,” she remarked casually, handing her cloak to the servant nearby. “I hope you don’t mind me staying the night…do you?”

Merry waited for the server to step away to hang up the garment. “You may stay as long as you wish providing you’re not here to make trouble for Pippin,” he spoke in a low voice.

Posey puzzled at his words, “Trouble?”

Just as she spoke, Estella, Everard, Laurel, and Pippin emerged from the guest tunnel on their way to the dining hall…with Sapphira on Pippin’s arm. The little group was chattering away and never saw Pippin’s old flame standing in the parlour. “Oh…” mumbled Posey. Anxiety rose in her heart at seeing Pippin courting another lass so soon after… Well, no matter. “No…” she replied as she walked past Merry, “no trouble whatsoever.”

~ ~ ~

“Pippin,” Sapphira whispered, “there’s a lass sitting at the other end of the table staring at us.”

Throughout the birthday meal, Pippin had eyes only for the lass sitting beside him. Merry had not the opportunity to tell Pippin about Posey arriving unaccompanied. He thought to tell his dear friend after supper when the guests were free to mingle about. Until then, why ruin Pippin’s supper?

“Is it someone you know?” Pippin asked, then took a sip of wine to wash down the scrumptiously roasted meat. “Estella has family in the Northfarthing as well.”

“No,” answered Sapphira. “I don’t remember seeing her before in my life.”

Her?, Pippin thought, then spied the familiar face as he set his goblet down. “Posey,” he said aloud.

“Is she someone you know?” asked Sapphira.

“I used to.” The dark-haired lass met his gaze from the far end of the long table. Where was her lad-friend? Pippin quickly brought his eyes back to Sapphira then smiled a bit nervously.

Sapphira felt there was trouble behind Pippin’s smile. She tried her best to pay the lass no mind, but found it difficult to do so. How well did Pippin know her? Sapphira pondered on this question through the rest of the meal, but the only idea Sapphira could come up with was that Posey was a past love. How recent was their love? Every time she looked up, the dark-haired lass would be glaring in Sapphira’s direction. Probably very recent, she guessed.

~ ~ ~

Merry-making and dancing was soon to begin now that the gift-giving was almost finished. Pippin received a pair of gold studs with his initials engraved in them. Sapphira received two matching silver hair-combs with deep, dark blue stones decorating the handles. “The gems are to go with your name,” said Estella. Sapphira decided they were so beautiful that she just had to put them in her hair immediately.

“Thank you, Stella,” said Sapphira to her newfound friend. “It was so thoughtful of you. Happy birthday!” She stood up then gave Estella a friendly kiss on the cheek, taking Pippin by the hand she said, “Come by the window with me, Pip.”

“Why?” he asked, though he did not go unwillingly. He allowed her to drag him across the room while the rest of the gift giving went on uninterrupted. Sapphira led her beau to an open window where both could still see the gift giving going on.

Sapphira took her own plain combs out of her hair then put one of Estella’s gift in Pippin’s hand. “I need you to hold this and tell me if I have them straight or not,” she said, then proceeded to use her fingers to comb strands of her hair up and behind her ear, using the faint reflection in the window to guide her hands. Pippin stood watching the lass fix her hair with an amused expression on his face.

She nudged him with her elbow, taking the other comb from his hand. “Stop it--you’re making me laugh now!” When finished, Sapphira fluffed her hair behind her head. “How does it look?”

Pippin tried his best to appear serious. “One is higher than the other,” he said, trying to hold back his grin. He reached up on the supposedly erred side then took out the comb. Pippin smoothed out the same strands of hair that fell out of the comb with his fingers, then gathered them together, gently sliding the comb once again into her hair. “Wait,” he said with a smile, holding her back when she tried to walk off, “I’m not finished.” He sized up his handiwork on both sides and then smoothed her curls by letting his fingers glide through the silky locks.

Sapphira sighed, “Seems my hair must be a net of tangles, Mr. Took.”

Pippin continued to smile, taking great pleasure in the feel of her soft curls. “Not anymore,” he said, then took her hand in his as they walked back to their seat. “Though I might need to freshen it up a bit before the party is done,” he added with a wink.

All I want is a few moments of Pippin’s time, Posey reasoned to herself. She wanted to explain her rash behaviour a couple months ago; she wanted to tell him that she still loved him. However, the sight of Pippin playing with another lass’s hair was too much. She watched as the lovebirds slowly walked back to their seats hand in hand, sharing a quiet jest. Posey made her way quickly to stand almost directly behind Sapphira’s chair. The opening at the lower part of the back would work to Posey’s advantage. She raised her wine goblet to take a sip as the couple made to sit down. While the other guests attention was busy elsewhere, Posey brought her glass down in time to splash a small amount of the red wine onto the seat cushion as Sapphira settled into her chair. 

Initially, Sapphira thought she felt something odd when she sat down, then shrugged it off thinking that perhaps it was the warmth of the cushion. After all, she had been sitting in it for well over an hour before she got up to put the combs in her hair. The dancing would start as soon as the fiddle player finished tuning her instrument, so perhaps getting up and moving about on the dance floor would do her--and the cushion some good.

Soon, the music started up and all the guests grabbed their partners to join the host and his birthday lass already doing the Springle-ring on the floor.

“Come on, Pip!” Pervinca shouted over the music and laughter. She and her husband Merimas were passing by the young wallflowers still sitting in their chairs. “You and I used to dance the Springle-ring when we were children!” she shouted again while kicking up her heels.

“All right,” said Pippin standing up. He was not about to be shown up by his sister. He held out his hand to his lovely lass, “Shall we dance?”

Sapphira smiled, taking Pippin’s hand she stood up from her chair.

TBC

Chapter Eight - The Truth Comes Out

“She’s all right…for now,” said Estella, quietly shutting the door to Sapphira’s room. “Poor lass feels horrified. I’m going to show her where the bathing room is so that she can clean up. It’s not…it isn’t what we thought it was.”

“Thank you, Stella,” said Pippin, relieved and grateful for her aid. “If she’s…” Pippin grew up with three older sisters, so he was no stranger to things of the female nature, however, it still made him blush a little. “…if she’s not on her monthly course, then what was it?”

“From a closer look at her dress and the smell of the liquid, it was red wine.”

Now Pippin understood what probably transpired. “Will you tell Sapphira that I will return shortly to check on her? I have a feeling who may have had a hand in all this.”

“As do I,” Merry put in. “I really must apologize, dear cousin. I should have known better.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Merry,” said Pippin. “Remember, until I arrived with Sapphira on my arm, you did not know that Posey and I had ended our courtship. Furthermore, You said that when she responded to the invitation she wrote that she was going to be escorted by another lad. If Posey is indeed the one behind Sapphira’s mishap, then it is she who will be held responsible.”

Stella stood listening to the exchange between her husband and cousin, also surmising what happened. She, too, had witnessed Sapphira’s humiliation in front of all the guests. Fortunately, few of the other guests thought the situation funny. When the tweenager discovered why folks were staring at her oddly, she became horrified, running out of the room in tears. Fury filled Estella’s brown eyes as she spoke to the lads, “Just let me know if Posey needs help packing. I won’t mind in the least being the one to show her to the door.”

“I am certain that you wouldn’t,” said Merry, giving his wife a peck on the lips. “But this is supposed to be a happy occasion for you, love. Please ask Laurel if she wouldn’t mind staying with Sapphira until Pippin and I return.”

“I will, but only after I show Sapphira to the bathing room first,” Estella answered.

“Very well,” said Merry, giving his love yet another, more softer kiss. He understood and agreed that taking care of an upset guest was of utmost importance. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said in response.

As Pippin and his dearest of friends walked away toward Posey’s room, the younger hobbit mused at how easily love and kisses passed between his “brother” and “sister-in-law”, how effortless it all seemed. Pippin longed for that sort of relationship, and hoped that he had found it with Sapphira.

* * *

The cousins knocked upon the door to Posey’s room. The rumour going round the party guests was that the dark-haired lass suddenly felt under the weather.

“She ought to be!” said Pippin rather unsympathetically. The plan was for he and Merry both to question Posey alone, and if found guilty, to send her home directly.

“I was expecting you,” said the lass passively as she opened her door. “My bags are already packed,” said Posey, opening the door further, revealing her overnight bag latched and ready to be carried off. She dabbed at the corner of her eyes with her embroidered handkerchief. “I won’t be staying the night, Merry. I’m sorry for…for what I did.”

“Don’t…apologize to me, Posey,” Merry said shaking his head as he walked inside. “The person you ought to be saying you’re sorry to is Sapphira--in front of the same guests you wronged her, and to my wife for disrupting her party with your behaviour.”

Pippin’s anger rose again as he took a step toward Posey. “Why? What did she ever do to you?” he asked.

Posey wiped another tear at the corner of her eye, “I…I…,” she sniffed.

Pippin folded his arms over his chest as he cast an indifferent eye toward his cousin. They had seen side-shows such as this before at fairs.

“I only wanted to speak with you for a moment--alone.” Posey gave her former beau the most imploring look she could muster. “Please.”

Pippin sighed heavily. “You wanted to speak to me? What for?”

“Its…,” she stammered, her eyes darted to Merry. “It’s personal. But truly, I still need to speak with you privately.”

“Why didn’t you just come out and ask instead of sending another lass to her room in tears?”

“I was desperate…,” she glanced nervously at Merry again. “May we speak alone?”

“After your malicious behaviour, no we may not,” answered Pippin. His eyes remained fixed on the lass he was once in love with. “I will not have you next going about Buckland and the rest of the Shire saying we were alone together, behaving indiscriminately. I simply do not trust you. I can’t say that I even know you anymore.”

Posey sat upon her bed, eyes cast to the ground. “All right,” she spoke softly. “The child is due in early Blotmath.”

Neither Pippin nor Merry knew what to say, merely looking at one another in disbelief. “Sorry, I didn’t hear that last part,” said Pippin. “Did you say…‘the child is due’--as in you‘re…?”

“Yes, I did. I just thought you should know.”

“I’ll…just be waiting outside the door,” said Merry, clearing his throat uneasily.

“No, please stay Merry,” said Pippin, stunned, but not for himself. “I am sorry for your situation, Posey, but if you’re suggesting that I am the father, you know very well that I am not. We have never been…that close.”

“You should have me raise the child alone?”

“Posey, I don’t know whom you have been consorting with lately, but fortunate for me,” he said with conviction, “my father taught me about such things when I was a young lad, and from what I remember, you and I would have had to be far more intimate than we were. I never took advantage of you.”

“Why don’t you just come out with the truth, Posey,” said Merry, standing by silently listening to the discussion. Inwardly, he was glad that Pippin had asked him to stay and would remain by Pippin’s side for as long as he needed him here.

Posey shot a look at the tall Brandybuck. “I beg your pardon.”

“In case you have not noticed,” Merry began, “my wife and I have not one, but two children. Each time Stella was expecting, the midwife advised her to stay away from strong drinks such as beer, brandy…red wine. Either you care not for your unborn child, or you are not expecting one.”

Posey blanched in horror. “I…I have not been seen by a midwife yet,” she said, slumping down upon her bed, “but…I am…quite sure of my condition. I was not aware of avoiding strong drinks.”

“You know about it now,” Merry said firmly, “and you ought to be seen immediately. Stay the night, and I will ask the Hall’s midwife if she can see you in the morning before you leave. You owe that much to your child. And you still owe Sapphira and Stella and apology.”

“Thank you,” said Posey then began to sob real tears, “and I shall. I want to gather myself first, if you please.” She added while sighing, My father says that I am to be wed by week’s end.”

“To the real father?” asked Pippin, making another attempt at ensuring his old love wasn’t going to point her finger at him.

Posey nodded her head sadly. “It was only once…at my cousin’s birthday party in Whitfurrows. It…it was the stable lad, taking the ponies from the party guests. He is the son of a sheep farmer. My mother is livid, saying I should be ashamed of myself.”

The first thing Pippin and Merry both thought was that Posey’s mother was angry with was her condition. “But…what’s done is done,” offered Pippin. “Your life won’t be the same, however, it will go on.”

The lass wiped her nose then continued, “She wasn’t speaking of my deed, she is horrified that I am to be the wife of a sheep farmer. Mother is the one who demanded that I accept the invitation to Estella’s party, telling me not to come home unless you’re with me, Pip. If I don’t, then I am surely to be married and out of the house by Highday.”

“That truly is sad,” said Merry, rolling his eyes when they met Pippin’s while Posey wasn’t looking.

“Yes,” agreed Pippin, “however, that does not excuse your reckless behaviour.” Pippin made to leave the room, gazing sorrowfully at the lass. “Goodbye, Posey.”

“In light of your condition, I will not send you home directly. Instead, I firmly suggest that you remain in your guest room until your departure tomorrow, that is, unless you publicly apologize to the lasses. I won’t have anymore trouble at my wife’s party.” Taking his leave, Merry added, “I will send word within the hour as to when the midwife will be able see you. Goodnight, Miss Posey.”

As the cousins ambled back to Sapphira’s room, Pippin commented in a low voice, “Marrying a shepherd! How embarrassing, indeed,” he clucked his tongue.

Merry covered his mouth to keep from laughing aloud, “True--and to think before him, she almost ended up marrying the son of a crop farmer!”

“I think I should go back with Posey,” announced Pippin, feigning insult. “I should muck the stalls in the heat of the afternoon, take a barrow full of manure out to the soil mix, then sit down at tea right between the two of them--just to watch them squirm!”

Merry snickered, scrunching up his nose at the thought. He had some vivid memories of his uncle Paladin dishing out such chores as punishment for some wee misbehaviour he and Pippin got caught at when they were young lads. After pondering it, Merry replied, “I think I would sooner muck the stalls than have life-long misery being married to Posey.”

“Aye,” Pippin concurred, “so true.”

~ ~ ~

“Here you go,” Pippin soothed the young tween moping at the tea table. He poured each of them a hot cup of tea to enjoy while they played the card game.

Long half-dried locks bound with a blue ribbon lay in a heap of wild curls down Sapphira’s back. The damp towel used for drying her hair hung over the back of her bedside chair. “I’ve never heard of such a game. What is a playing card?”

Pippin returned the kettle to the hearth then took his seat across from Sapphira. “It’s not just one card,” he said excitedly. “In Minas Tirith, they call it a ‘deck’.” He next began to shuffle the deck from one hand to the other. “I have to mix them up,” he added. “These belong to Merry--he let me borrow his deck. Mine is back home in the Smials. Here--,” he laid down a series of cards until he had what he sought. “There are suits of Hearts, Diamonds, Clovers, and Spades.”

“That’s a spade?” she asked, pointing to the odd shape on the card.

“I know--I don’t think it looks anything like one of Sam’s shovels, either, but that’s what they call it in the South. I shall divide the deck evenly and then we’ll begin the game.”

Sapphira watched intensely as Pippin alternately laid a card before each of them.

“Now, how this game is played, is the numbered cards are valued at whatever their number is. The cards marked with an A, K, Q, or Kn are high cards. They’re worth ten points each, however the court cards have a ranking.”

“What do the letters mean, Pippin?”

“Aces, Kings, Queens, and Knights.”

“Oh! A courtly game!” said Sapphira. “Do they play this game in the High King’s court?”

Without looking up Pippin replied, “No.” He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Actually, the Kn refers to Knaves, but Merry and I found we prefer Knights. Queens outrank Knights, Kings outrank them both, Aces outrank them all. I purchased my deck from the innkeeper we used to frequent in the City. Merry got his from a wager he won with Legolas.”

“Legolas is the dwarf you journeyed with?” she asked sincerely.

“No, love, he is the elf. Gimli is the dwarf.”

Sapphira drank deeply from her teacup; this would be a long game. She listened as Pippin instructed her in the rules of play. They would lay down a card simultaneously; the person with the higher valued card wins the hand, taking the cards. Matching cards are considered “war”; a second card is then laid face-down beside the matching card, then a third card facing up beside the second. Face down cards are turned over at the same time, higher valued card winning the entire hand.

Sapphira scrunched up her nose at all the rules. “Are we allowed to talk?” she asked sarcastically.

Pippin smiled, “Of course we are, although it takes away from concentrating on the game. But I suppose we’re not playing in a pub, so concentration isn’t all important.”

Sapphira laid down her first card when Pippin did. “My card is marked 7, yours is a Knight,” Pippin gently prompted her.

“I can see,” she said, sweeping the hand towards herself. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?” Pippin laid down another card with Sapphira. His King won over her 2. He swept the hand towards himself.

She laid her 5 card beside his 6. “About…well…if you ever still think about that Posey lass.”

Pippin laid his deck aside, then took Sapphira’s deck out of her hand. He took both her hands tenderly in his replying softly, “No, I do not. Not anymore. There was a time when she was all that filled my thoughts…but that has not happened in a long while. I don’t love her, Sapphira. I love you.”

Her hands still in his, Sapphira bowed her head, a tear falling to the table. Pippin quickly rose from his chair, going over to Sapphira. He turned her round to face him as he crouched at her feet. He held her face gently in his hands. “Shhh!” he comforted her, wiping her tears away. “I…I didn’t mean to…” he stammered, “I’m sorry if I am going too fast. I can go slower if you want.”

Sapphira wept, “It’s not that I don’t love you, Pippin. But…whenever I want to tell you so, I find that my heart cries out all the more for Hildebrand. I find that I still love him, too. I--I left him over a stupid argument.”

Pippin’s heart sank to his toes at her last remark, however, he wasn’t going down without a fight. He swept her damp curls away from her tear-stained face. “Sapphira dear…please don’t feel as if you have to respond right now, today, this very second. You already admitted that you also love me, but to say it, perhaps you just need a bit more time. We’ll take it slower, and when you are ready, you’ll let me know?” he asked. He watched Sapphira nod, then stood her to her feet, taking her into his arms. “I do love you. Do you believe me?” He felt her nod again, weeping into his shoulder.

TBC

Chapter Nine - Evening of Disaster

“Farewell, dear cousin,” said Merry, wrapping his dearest friend in a fierce hug. “Please don’t become a stranger! I shall expect more visits from you than I have in the past four months. And I promise to visit you at Midsummer, all right?”

Pippin cocked an eye to his favourite cousin. “You, Stella, and the children?” he asked. Merry smiled, nodding his head. “Then it’s a deal!” said Pippin.

“Goodbye, Sapphira,” said Estella, also saying farewell. “I do hope to see you again soon.”

“Pippin was right,” said Sapphira, looking one last time round the parlour and sitting room of Brandy Hall. “This place is wonderful…enchanting.”

Estella laughed, “I’ve never heard the word enchanting to describe Brandy Hall, but I suppose I can agree with you on that. Thank you for coming to my birthday party.” She then turned and kissed Pippin on the cheek, “and you, too, dear cousin. Come back again.”

“Goodbye, Stella,” Pippin kissed her cheek in return, “and thank you for your generous hospitality. We shall return again soon.”

~ ~ ~

It had been another long voyage back to the Westfarthing. They were little less than an hour away from Great Smials as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with a host of stars and the soft glow of the moon. Pippin leaned against the compartment wall while Sapphira leaned against him, legs curled up upon the cushions while quietly playing with a loop of twine in the dark. Every now and then, from rhythm of the ponies’ gait, the light from the driver’s lantern would swing into view, briefly casting a dim yellow light into the carriage. Soft snores came from across the aisle on the other bench; Everard and two of his lasses were asleep upon their bench. Little Thistle lay stretched at Sapphira’s feet, also in slumber.

“What is that?” Pippin whispered into Sapphira’s ear.

Sapphira whispered back, “It’s the Matron’s Broom.” She unravelled the string from her fingers then began weaving yet another pattern with her hands. “Put your finger inside the square,” she instructed.

“I remember this!” said Pippin, placing his forefinger inside woven square. Sapphira quickly released the tension of the square, trapping her escort’s finger within the cord. “When we were children, Pervinca used to pass the time between supper and bedtime with this game.” He quietly snickered, “She, too, would have me put my finger inside the square.”

“Now I have you!” she chuckled under her breath.

“You’ve had me from the first day,” Pippin responded with a sweet smile as their eyes met. Sapphira blushed, looking away from his tender gaze. She quickly re-weaved the same square then slipped the finished cord over Pippin’s finger again.

“Presto!” she said softly as the string fell away from Pippin’s formerly ensnared finger.

Pippin took the opportunity to entwine his fingers with hers. “Other than your wee introduction to Miss Posey Headstrong, how did you like visiting Brandy Hall?”

“I ha--” Sapphira paused to yawn, “had a wonderful time meeting your friends and family. As soon as we get back to the Smials I am going to sit down and write my sisters and brother all about it.”

“Will you be able to stay awake?” Pippin smiled.

“Yes, I shall,” the lass answered resolutely, nestling her weary head upon Pippin’s shoulder. “I mean to take a bit of a nap until we arrive at the Great Door.”

Pippin wrapped his arm about Sapphira so that she could get more comfortable. “It won’t be long now,” he said, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

Sapphira was breathing deeply as the carriage pulled up to the Great Door of the Smials. Everard wakened Laurel; both sleepily gathered their belongings and children. Both carried the sleeping children while servants took the luggage to their apartment. Pippin hugged Sapphira softly, “Wake up--we’re home.” He fought the urge to kiss her, trying to remember to ‘go slow’. He watched Sapphira sit up, rub her eyes and yawn. Then he heard his name being called out, recognizing the voice as his sister’s.

“Pippin!” Pimpernel shouted, leaning into the open compartment door.

Pippin now yawned, “Pimpernel, it’s late. You are going to wake the stable-lad with your yelling.”

Undaunted, Pimpernel continued, “Pippin I must speak with you, now.” She looked at Sapphira, “and I must ask you to please stay inside here for half a moment, if you please.”

Pippin would have normally baulked at her request, however, the worried expression she wore made him curious. He noticed Sapphira’s growing apprehension. If the urgency indeed had to do with her family, he decided to hear his sister out first, then return to deliver the news. “Very well, but please be quick, Pim. We’ve had a long journey and are extremely exhausted.”

Pimpernel took her brother’s hand, pulling him inside the doorway. “Pip, her family is here.”

Right away Pippin thought the worst. He studied his sister’s face for any sign of a prank; there was none. “Who is sick? Has anyone died?” he asked with deep concern.

“Neither,” said Pim, looking her brother in the eye. “Her mother, sisters, and brother are right now sitting in the parlour. They arrived here earlier in the afternoon and have been waiting for her return. And Pip,” she added solemnly, “another lad is with them, claiming to be trothed to her.”

Pippin nervously ran is hand through his curls, feeling as if someone had kicked him in the stomach. “They are not trothed,” he whispered to her. “She said they both called off the wedding before she came to work here.”

Pimpernel raised her eyebrow, “Seems you already knew much more about all this than I did.”

“Where’s father? Has he had a chance to greet our guests?” The last word rolled distastefully off Pippin’s tongue, knowing that Hildebrand was probably here to claim someone who Pippin felt did not belong to him anymore.

Pimpernel looked down, “Father has not been feeling well since yesterday. Mother and I have been helping out with his appointments and such.”

“Has a healer seen him?” asked Pippin, now troubled over their father. Their parents were both getting up in age, which meant more illnesses and frailties for their children to worry over.

“Yes, Donnabelle came as soon as I sent word to her yesterday morning,” said Pim. “Seems it’s a stomach ailment, but she’s confident he’ll be feeling better by tomorrow.”

Relieved with that bit of news, he forged on. “So have you or mother asked Mrs. North-took why she travelled over eighty miles--with her children--and with Sapphira’s old beau in tow?”

“Of course we did!” said Pimpernel with disbelief. “That is how I learned that they are still pledged to one another.”

Pippin looked up toward the ceiling in the doorway, sighing. “They are not, I tell you.”

Pimpernel also sighed in exasperation. “Fine, have it your way, but something tells me that Mr. Haymaker didn’t travel all these miles just to greet you and Sapphira home from Buckland.” Pim had a nasty feeling of what was to take place in the very near future, yet she felt helpless to stop it. She rued any part she had in those two getting together.

Pippin opened his mouth to speak and then shut it. He stiffly folded his arms across his chest. He turned round in the doorway, calling Sapphira from the carriage. He waited until the lass stood beside Pimpernel before speaking. “Sapphira, dear, do not be alarmed, however, I must tell you that your family has arrived here from Long Cleeve to see you.”

It took Sapphira a few seconds to take it all in, yet Pippin’s caution did little to ease the distress in her heart. “They’re here? No cause for--then why? Why would they travel so far?”

Pippin nervously scratched at his head, “What is more, they arrived with someone else in their company.” He pointed toward a well-lit anteroom just a ways down the main hallway. “They’re in the parlour waiting for you.” Surprise and wonder in her hazel eyes, Sapphira hurriedly led the way as the threesome walked directly to the room. For Pippin, his legs grew heavy with each step, as did his heart; this little walk could well be the march of death for his chance to woo Sapphira permanently into his life.

Upon entering the parlour, time nearly stood still for Pippin. He watched Sapphira, the lass with light-brown curls, smile and laugh as she eagerly embraced each of her siblings and her mother. Pippin tried guessing to himself who it was that she greeted with kisses and hugs. The obvious ones were her mother and brother. Valdigrim being a young tweenaged lad with dark curls, slight of frame, smiled broadly when his sister wrapped him in an embrace. Sapphira’s sisters were a bit harder to figure out; both had chestnut coloured hair, although the taller one wore her hair cropped just at her shoulders while the smaller lass wore her hair long, almost to her waist.

Pippin gazed despondently as with every hug she drew closer and closer to the lad standing off to the side with an aching expression on his face. The lad kept his eyes focused on Sapphira the whole time, as did Pippin, while she welcomed her family. It was her mother who spoke into her daughter’s ear, pointing to the other side of the room. The older lad anxiously gripped the brim of his hat, watching Sapphira draw nigh. Sapphira stood still as stone, her hand flew to her mouth as she gave a small cry of surprise. Pippin watched helplessly as the lad opened his arms, catching the lass in a deep, tearful embrace. “Oh, how I missed you terribly!” “I’m so sorry!” he could hear the couple exchange apologies, pleasantries…and then a loving kiss.

Pippin averted his eyes, staring for a long moment at his feet, at pieces of his heart scattered about them. He swallowed the lump in his throat lest the tears spring to his eyes, betraying his emotions. He took in a deep, calming breath, and then stepped forward. “Good evening, friends, welcome to Great Smials. My name is Peregrin Took, at your service,” he said then bowed. “I hope your stay is enjoyable. Please excuse me while I look in on my father.” As he turned to leave, his eyes caught the poignant gaze of one of Sapphira’s sisters. It was she who was smaller. It was as if the lass could see right through him, seeing his true feelings…his heartache. Feeling exposed, Pippin quickly looked away, exiting the parlour.

“Pippin!”

Pippin heard his name shouted. He shut the door behind him.

* * *

“Pippin, my lad,” Paladin smiled, the back of his hand tenderly brushing his son’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re back home. I missed my fishing companion the other day.”

Pippin sat upon the edge of his father’s bed attempting a genuine smile. In spite of his efforts, Pippin felt his eyes stinging from fatigue and tears, yet he continued to fight them off. “I’m sorry, father,” Pippin grinned through his sorrow. “When you are feeling better, we shall go to our favourite spot near Whitwell. How does that sound?”

Paladin lay in his bed under the covers, a half-read book resting upon his chest. He observed his son’s glistening eyes. He sighed, “It would sound much better after you told me what troubles you so.”

Pippin swept his hands over his brow, feigning to push aside his longish curls while wiping away the wetness in his eyes. “I have no troubles, father,” he answered with an ever so slight sniffle. “Just you concentrate on getting better.”

“I may be old, but I am no fool, lad,” said Paladin. “You forget that I have known you since the day you were born.” With his wrinkled hand, he pushed aside those errant curls of his son’s that he knew so well, revealing red nose and eyes. “Talk to me, Pip.”

Pippin looked up toward the ceiling in a last ditch effort to coax the tears back inside their ducts, though to no avail. Instead, they came in greater number. He breathed in deep to keep from crying like a faunt. “Merry was…right…,” he gasped, voice quivering, “and…I was wrong.” A tear barely touched his cheek as it fell to the bed linen. “I should have…listened to him.”

“Dear, dear, Pippin,” said Paladin, handing a clean handkerchief to his son. “Listen to Merry? What did he tell you?”

“He warned me to…to keep my heart guarded,” Pippin explained while wiping his face. “To not get too far ahead…and end up with a broken heart. But I wouldn’t listen.”

“Come here, laddie,” Paladin wrapped his son in a tender hug. “Miss Sapphira?” He felt Pippin nod his assent against his shoulder. “Pimpernel told me as much when her family arrived today. I feared for this sort of thing, and so soon after your last courtship.” He let go of Pippin, gently wiping away a tear streak. “My poor lad.”

“I’ll be fine in no time,” said Pippin, cleaning his face with the handkerchief.

“Paladin knew his son better than that. “From what I understand, there is more yet to come. Just remember, lad--only one family may keep the calf.”

Pippin sniffed, “I never did give you an answer to your riddle, did I?”

“No, you did not,” said Paladin, “however, I have a feeling you will have an answer ready for me after young Miss Sapphira leaves with her family.”

“You never know,” said Pippin sniffling again, “she may decide to stay here.” Pippin still held out hope that he would be the chosen lad, no matter how bleak things appeared at the moment.

Paladin’s heart went out to his son. “Pippin lad,” he said sadly, “You will only end up with your heart in more pieces.”

“I love her, Papa.”

“Of course you do, son,” Paladin consoled him, “however, should you not want those affections returned? It should be a very lonely road for you if they were not.”

“Right now, what I want,” answered Pippin, rising up from his father’s bed, “is to have things as they were a mere hour ago.”

“Go and rest,” said Paladin, seeing his lad exhausted. “You have had a very long and tiring trip from Buckland. Tomorrow is another day…and you shall sit by my side and tell me all there is to know about my sister, my daughter, and their families. Allow Sapphira the time to visit with her family, and to decide where her heart truly lies.”

Pippin smiled faintly, though a sincere smile, remembering his visit with his sister, Pervinca and their aunt and uncle. “I will go to bed,” he replied to his father, “but I shall not rest.” He bent down to kiss his father goodnight. “I love you, Papa.”

TBC

Chapter Ten - Depths of Despair

Pippin opened his eyes to a new morning, hearing frantic pounding upon the door in his sitting room. His bedroom door was already open, sending waves of hammering through to his head. He scrunched up his nose at the pain, sat up and rubbed his eyes. Spying the empty glass sitting upon his night table, he instantly rued drowning his sorrows with his father’s finest port last night. “Oy,” he groaned, feeling his head throb.

“Peregrin Took! If you do not open this door in five seconds, I’m coming inside!” More pounding on the door.

Pippin slowly stood to his feet, pulling on his night coat. He heard the door open.

“I hope you are descent, little brother, because I’m coming in right now--” Pimpernel stopped in the doorway to the bedroom, her silhouette blessedly blocking the bright light behind her. “You’re still in your nightshirt!” she gasped. “It’s almost time for elevenses.”

“I just woke up,” said Pippin in a thick voice.

“Evidently,” Pimpernel shot back. Springing into action, she went to Pippin’s wardrobe. Taking out a clean pair of breeches and a shirt, she tossed them onto his bed. “Father is still a bit under the weather so mother is tending to him this morning,” she continued while unfastening his braces from yesterday’s clothes. “Here,” she said, tossing them atop the fresh set of garments. “Get dressed--I need your help with the guests.” Pimpernel paused in her ranting, taking in a deep breath, she put her hand on the shoulder of her bewildered brother, “I know this is all hard for you, Pip. I promise to let you sulk later after supper…but I need your help right now. I can’t do all this by myself and watch my children, too.”

Pippin apprehensively picked up the clean shirt his sister laid out, “So…Sapphira is no longer in your employ?” Pippin was emotionally preparing himself for the worst.

Pim stopped just short of the bedroom door on her way out to let her brother dress in private. “Either way, Pip. If she stays, she will be too distracted to mind my lads, and…I should want to give her every opportunity to get to know you better. On the other hand, if she leaves, well…that is obvious. I won’t keep someone who has deeply hurt my little brother.”

The pained expression on Pippin’s face made Pimpernel walk back into the bedroom and wrap her brother in a tender hug. “I know I can be bossy at times, Pip, but I do love you.”

A hint of a smile briefly appeared on Pippin’s lips. “You’re always bossy…but…I suppose I wouldn’t have you any other way. I will do what I can to help out, however, I cannot promise any smiles.”

Pimpernel smiled sadly, “I know, but I will take what you can give.” Before breaking away from their hug, Pimpernel playfully smacked his back, “Now get dressed! Elevenses is almost here--I need you to first go to father’s study to see about his appointments and such while I see to the comfort of our guests.”

“What about the lads?” asked Pippin, watching her exit the room.

“Gelly’s minding them at the moment,” she called over her shoulder. “But only while I’m busy fetching you.”

Pippin shook his head, “Oy…” Gelly was extremely young to be watching over his younger brothers, yet Pippin held out hope that the lad was still putting his most recent advice into practice.

At elevenses, the chairs at the head of the dining table sat empty of their usual occupants. With a quick apology for the Thain’s and Mistress’s absence, Pimpernel set about the meal, ensuring adequate amounts of food had been sent to the dining room. Pippin sat at his customary seat to the right of his father’s chair. Pimpernel sat diagonally across from him, to their mother’s left. The guests sat on either side going down the rest of the table.

Mrs. North-took sat beside Pippin expressing her utmost praise for the exquisite fare. “I shall pass your compliments on to my mother,” Pippin answered, barely giving a smile. “’Tis her recipe.”

Other than that, there wasn’t much conversation at the table, which was not unusual at hobbit meals, however, the awkwardness of the situation made the silence even more pronounced.

Also sitting at the table was one very astute, very precocious young lass. Without staring rudely at people, she closely observed each one’s actions. Sweet Mrs. Brownfield, hustling about to make sure the Thain’s guests were comfortable, fed, and had a place to sleep. To the young, perceptive lass, the matronly hobbit appeared haggard and worn, alternately eating from her own plate and then attending to her youngest son sitting beside her.

And poor Peregrin, Mrs. Brownfield’s brother, putting up a brave front all for the sake of…what? Her sister? Looking across the table, Diamond could tell the reunited couple were holding hands beneath it. She took note of how close their arms were to one another, unmoving. Hildebrand was left-handed anyway so it raised no one’s eyebrows. But Diamond knew it. Yes, Hildebrand and Sapphira indeed fell in love long ago--almost eight years ago. They did compliment one another beautifully, however, Diamond felt that sitting at the dinner table with their hands clasped was disrespectful to the injured host. That is how young Diamond viewed it, anyway.

She gazed back up in the direction of Mr. Peregrin, who was engaged in yet more conversation with her mother. Diamond was amazed that even her mother could not see then obvious sorrow in his eyes. This is the lad who travelled all the way to Buckland with her sister, danced with her at the birthday party of a dear friend, and now awaits weather or not that same lass has made her choice. Sadly, Diamond knew that Sapphira had already made that choice and her heart grieved over the heartbroken lad.

Until yesterday evening, she had never laid eyes upon the tall Took lad, yet she already felt something unique about Peregrin. When he caught her glance the night before in the parlour, Diamond looked into the depths of his green eyes and then into his soul. That sensation had never happened to her before and it almost frightened her. However, it was at that moment that she knew there would be something special between Mr. Peregrin and her. Her naive thoughts went no further than friendship although she felt they were indeed kindred spirits. For the sake of his broken heart, Diamond would keep all of this to herself. If young Mr. Peregrin had any interest in her friendship, then fate would be her guide.

When the meal finished up, the tweenagers all headed for the parlour once again. Pippin, went directly to his father’s study accompanied by Mrs. North-took; she wanted his opinion of a certain document. Sapphira asked Hildegard to walk in the garden with her, as there was much that she wanted to tell him about her stay at Great Smials and Brandy Hall.

Trying her best to be the perfect hostess, Pimpernel had an idea for the younger hobbits. “Gelly, why don’t you take our tweenaged guests out to see the ponies? I have heard tell that Valdigrim is very interested in ponies.”

“Yes, ma’am!” said the young hobbit excitedly. Gelly’s own eyes lit up; it seemed him and this older lad had something in common after all. Eager for the chance to mingle about with older children, Gelly ran ahead to where the guests had gathered and was soon leading two of the three tweens toward the Great Door. “Follow me!” he said with a huge smile.

“Why can’t Hilly and I go with Gelly?” whined Tilby.

“Yes! We want to go, too, Mummy!” added Hilly.

Diamond had lingered behind while her younger siblings followed Gelly out the door. She witnessed the disconsolate faces of the two young lads standing round their mummy’s skirt.

“We have plenty of things to keep us busy--now come along, lads,” said Pimpernel, gathering her children. “Our next stop is to look in on Grandpapa then see about luncheon and our guests comfort.”

“Mrs. Brownfield?” Diamond spoke up. “I was wondering if…well, if…” the lass took in a deep breath then started over. “I mind children for a small living in Long Cleeve, and well, I must confess that I would feel much more comfortable playing a game of draughts with your lads than standing round a stable full of ponies.” Diamond watched as their wee faces lit up; they apparently did not relish the idea of following their mother all over the Smials after visiting their grandfather.

This surprised Pimpernel. “Wouldn’t you rather see the ponies?” she asked Diamond.

“No, ma’am.”

“Are you afraid of them?”

Diamond strategically evaded Pim’s question; she replied, “I much prefer the company of children to that of ponies.”

Pimpernel smiled at the charming lass; perhaps it was better to let her fears go unsaid. Also, the idea of her younger lads being minded while she tended to her other duties seemed very enticing no matter how young the lass appeared. “Very well,” said Pimpernel, then cast a glance toward her children. “You lads go on with…,” Pim hesitated, trying to keep the two lasses names straight in her head, “Miss Diamond. She is going to look after you for a few hours.” Pimpernel marvelled at how easily her lads went off with the young maiden. It took all three of her children a full day and a half to warm up to Sapphira.

* * *

Pimpernel awoke with a start inside her parents’ apartment. Groggy at first from her nap, it took her a few seconds to recognize her surroundings. “Mother?” she called out then sat up. “Father?”

“We’re here, love,” answered Eglantine from the other corner, sitting in her usual chair while knitting.

Pim whirled in the direction of the voice. “How long have you let me sleep, mother?”

Eglantine and Paladin exchanged guilty looks. “It’s past teatime,” replied Paladin.

“I’ve slept too long,” said Pimpernel, still weary. She laid aside the lap quilt her mother had covered her with and stood to her feet. “What about my lads? And the guests?”

“Your lads and the guests are fine,” said Eglantine, still knitting. “Right now, the guests are all in the parlour playing draughts. Except that young lass,” Eglantine’s knitting needles went still as she paused in thought. “What is her name, dear?”

“Miss Diamond,” Paladin answered his wife. “She is with your lads, Pim, in your apartment keeping them busy with games and such.”

Eglantine softly chuckled, “That strong-minded child reminds me of you when you were her age. She said that she borrowed your children directly from you, and to you only will she return them.”

Pimpernel smiled at her mother’s approval of the child minder. “She isn’t a child, mother. Her sister and brother were going to the stables earlier, but I don’t think Diamond is comfortable round ponies. So when she asked if she could mind the children for me, I let her. Besides,” she added, “I was never a strong-minded child.”

“She’s is doing a fine job, if you ask me,” said Eglantine, then her hazel eyes sparkled with humour. “Why is it that I have one particular memory of you at the Free Fair, tossing rings onto pegs for hours on end all because--”

Sighing, Pimpernel said emphatically, “Because I had a stratagem, mother…and it almost worked.” She stood to her feet and stretched her tired muscles. “I think I am going to go relieve our young guest of her charges.”

Just as Pimpernel took her leave, Paladin laid aside his book, addressing his daughter. “If you see Pippin, please tell him that I wish to speak with him. I have not seen him all day.”

Pimpernel wondered at her father‘s words and then remembered the manner in which she had to wake her brother that morning. “I will do that, Father.”

~ ~ ~

From inside his darkened room, Pippin heard the knocking upon his outer door. He made no attempt to answer it. He sat with knees drawn up upon his bed, head resting forward upon his arms. He felt the wetness from his most recent tears drying on his fevered cheeks. Pippin swept his handkerchief across his nose so as not to make a sound. He wanted no visitors at this time.

However, when he heard the door open up, his sister softly calling for him, Pippin wondered why he had been cursed with such an obstinate sister. “Please go away.”

Pimpernel slowly made her way into her brother’s room, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. “Pip, why is the room so dark? Are you sick?”

“Please go away,” he repeated his last request. “I am in no mood for company.”

“Pip?” asked his sister, taking note that he sounded as if he had been crying. What is more, she had a pretty good guess over what--or whom. When her eyes became accustomed to having little or no light, she gently sat on the edge of Pippin’s bed. “Talk to me.”

Pippin was silent for a while, deciding if talking to his sister would help things, or if he would much rather sulk. He settled on a little bit of both. “You know very well why I’m feeling the way I am.” When he spoke, his voice was strained, nose stuffed.

Pimpernel took his hand in hers, speaking softly, “There are no words that could convey my sadness, dear Pip. I feel wretched in that I encouraged it all. Sapphira said nothing to me about her beau when I hired her. If I had any idea… Do you want to talk to her, Pippin?”

“No.”

“It might make you feel better to tell her how you feel about all this.”

“No. I don’t want to speak to her. Truthfully, I don’t wish to speak to anyone.” He wiped away an errant tear.

“Father asked me to tell you he wanted to speak to you--but I will let him know you’re not up to it.”

“Tell father,” said Pippin, “that the calf was stolen right from under your nose.”

Pim was baffled, “Stolen from under my… Whatever do you mean by that?”

“He’ll know what I’m speaking of,” he sniffed, then crawled under the blankets. “Please go now.”

Pimpernel felt her brother’s invisible barrier go up. “Are you coming to supper later?”

“No.”

“Please don’t do this to yourself, Pip.” Pimpernel gazed miserably at her brother. He made no reply to her comment. She tenderly kissed his curls before leaving. “I’ll check on you later.”

TBC

Chapter Eleven - Welcome to Great Smials 

Having left her brother to grieve the loss of his latest love, Pimpernel walked further down to her familiar yellow door. With a heavy heart she entered her own apartment. What caught Pimpernel’s attention was the laughter and shrieks of joy emitted by her young brood while engaged in what appeared to be a drawing contest. Diamond sat giggling on the floor beside Gelly and Tilby who were stretched out on their tummies frantically scribbling on a single leaf of paper. In her lap sat Hilly, clapping his hands in anticipation of the winner.

“What is going on?”

Diamond helped the small lad stand to his feet before rising to her own. “Hullo, Mrs. Brownfield. We’re playing Dots.”

“Dots? I’ve not heard of that game in ages.”

“My dad taught it to my sisters and I when we were children,” Diamond replied.

Pimpernel looked over her middle-lad’s shoulder, seeing a host of “G’s” hastily scratched within the tiny boxes. “Are all those Gelly’s?” she asked with a bewildered expression.

“Yes!” laughed the eldest lad without a pause in the game, “And I’m going to win!”

Nine-year-old Tilby still held out hope for himself. “Not if I best you first!” Unfortunately, as he said those very words, he glumly watched as the last few blocks were filled in…most of them bearing a “G”. He laid down his leadstick in frustration. “It’s not fair!” cried Tilby, “He always gets to win.”

Gelly rolled onto his back, waving his victory paper in the air for all to see. “Behave, Gelly,” admonished Pimpernel, then addressed Tilby. “Tilby, you have to remember that your brother has a few years on you.”

Tilby countered, “I’ll wager if Miss Diamond played him, he’d lose!”

“There is no wagering in this apartment, young hobbit.” Pim looked over the sitting room area then to her temporary child minder. “Did the lads have tea, Diamond?”

“We had apples and cheese and biscuits and milk, Mummy,” Hilly put in helpfully.

“What’s wrong, Mum?” asked Gelly, noting that his mother seemed not quite herself.

Pim sat in her favourite chair near to the hearth letting out a long breath as she sunk into the cushions. “Uncle Pippin isn’t feeling well, dear. I don’t think he will be up to conducting studies for a while.”

Worried, Gelly asked, “Is he sick?”

“No, love. He’s…,” she paused, trying to choose her words carefully.

“He’s feeling very sad in his heart, Gelly,” said Diamond, completing Pimpernel’s idea.

Pimpernel looked thoughtfully at the tween. “I suppose that will do--well said, Diamond, however, I don’t believe my lads are old enough to understand the deeper matters of the heart.”

“Yes, I do” said Gelly, growing quite serious. “Miss Diamond explained it perfectly just now. I do hope that uncle Pippin feels better soon.”

“I liked Miss Sapphira,” put in Tilby, “but…”

“But what, Till?” Pimpernel wondered at her sons’ remarks; perhaps the older two have indeed grown enough for such matters.

“But…I like…,” Tilby mumbled his words.

“We can’t hear you!” said Gelly, a crooked grin on his face. He apparently heard his brother’s comment.

“I said I like Miss Diamond better!” shouted Tilby, blushing a bright red.

“Thank you, Tilby,” smiled Diamond. “I like you, too.”

Pimpernel didn’t understand it, but she definitely saw a connection had been made between Miss Diamond and her lads. Inwardly, she dreaded the moment when Sapphira would have to come in to clean out her wardrobe, gather her things and pack her luggage. It seems now that it would not affect her children the way she thought. Unfortunately, Diamond would be leaving on her sister’s heels, travelling all the way back to Long Cleeve with her family. Pimpernel would have to think upon a few things first before posing her thoughts to Mrs. North-took. “Why aren’t you lads outside enjoying the sunshine as usual before supper?”

“Because it’s raining outside,” answered Hilly, then beamed, “Can we go outside and play in the puddles?”

“You mean, ‘may we,” corrected Pim, walking over to the window, “and no, you may not.” Pulling aside the curtains, she saw that it definitely was raining. Low, dark grey clouds full of rain slowly passed over the Shire. It did not appear to be a mere afternoon rain, therefore, it should be too dangerous for the North-took family to travel until the roads dried out. Perhaps this little bit of inconvenience would work to her advantage.

Supper came and went with little fanfare--and Pippin. Pimpernel had passed on her brother’s message to their father after dessert. “Something about a calf being stolen from under my nose?” she said to her father. “I don’t understand it, but I suppose that it is something for the Thain and Thain-in-training to figure out.”

Back in the North-took’s quarters, the daughters all gathered in their mother’s room to speak about the coming days.

“I don’t suppose we’ll be travelling tomorrow with this rain, will we mother?” asked Sapphira.

Diamond sat dejectedly in the bedside chair. “What’s the matter? You can’t return to Long Cleeve quick enough?”

“Diamond North-took!” Opal chided her daughter.

“I’m sorry, Sapphira.” Young Diamond stared vacantly at the small fire in the hearth. The servants had built it to keep the dampness at bay. “I just keep seeing his face…the hurt--the anguish he must be feeling.”

“I didn’t mean for things to end up like this,” Sapphira said, sitting on the arm of her sister’s chair. “I do love Pippin,” she added, “but not, I found, in the same way that I love Hildebrand.” Sapphira put her arm around Diamond, “Someday you will understand--when you fall in love with a lad.”

Diamond moped in her seat, “I am not falling in love with a lad until I am at least forty years old. I’ve had enough of broken hearts to last a life time.”

“Trust me, Diamond,” said Gemma, sitting on the bed with her mum, “Mr. Pippin will eventually get over Sapphira.”

“And how do you know?” demanded Diamond. “Has your heart ever been wounded by someone you love?”

“No,” came Gemma’s sharp reply, “and neither has yours! You’ve never had a lad friend, let alone a steady beau.”

“Stop it--both of you,” said Opal, reining in her two youngest daughters. “Mr. Peregrin showed no signs of a lost heart to me this afternoon when I asked him to give Sapphira’s nuptial agreement a read.”

“Mother, you didn’t!” said Sapphira in exasperation. “You had no right!”

Diamond gaped in dismay at her mother. “No wonder he wasn’t at supper. That was like rubbing his nose in his own misery, mother. Have you no thought for him?”

“I have a thought for my own daughters,” Opal answered with firm conviction. “I want to make sure that their husbands don’t die and leave them without anything.”

“Dad did not leave us penniless, Mum,” said Sapphira. “And I refuse to acknowledge that…that contract you and Hildie’s parents wrote. ‘Sapphira gets this, Hildebrand gets that…’” the lass fumed, tears brimming in her eyes. “Well, the only thing I want is Hildie’s heart, mother, and this document,” she took up the paper on her mother’s nightstand, shaking it in the air, “has gotten in my way. It caused me to make a huge mistake last month--running away from the very person who loves me--and then caused me to injure another’s heart in the course of things.” Sapphira ripped the contract several times, threw it to the floor then fled the room. Diamond ran after her.

By the time Diamond caught up with her sister they both were approaching a round yellow door in the Thain’s tunnel. They passed it by, heading for the brown one not far from it. Diamond instantly knew she had never been in this hallway before. “Sapphira, where are we?”

“I’m going to my room. You may follow if it suits you,” replied Sapphira, wiping her tears. “I’m going to pack my belongings. I want to be ready to go back home as soon as the rain lets up.”

“You’re not going to stay until Mrs. Brownfield can find a replacement?” asked Diamond incredulously.

Opening the door, they both entered Sapphira’s room. “Diamond, I’ve hurt too many people to remain here any longer than need be.”

Young Diamond gawked at her sister’s private entrance. To think Sapphira actually received a regular wage for watching three young lads--and had her own entrance to her own room! It all seemed to make Sapphira appear more grown up in the younger lass’s eyes. Diamond suddenly wanted that for herself; she wanted to be grown up--on her own. “But you once wrote and said that Mrs. Brownfield aids her aging mother with charities and such. What will Mistress Took do if her daughter can no longer help her?”

“Mrs. Brownfield will find another nurse to care for her lads.”

Diamond traipsed about the room as her sister packed, letting her fingers glide over the well-polished furniture. She opened the wardrobe doors wide as if examining the shelf space, how much clothing she could store inside it. Diamond next sat upon the bed with a little jounce, sizing up the softness of the feather mattress. “Seems to me that your position is open for anyone who wishes to apply.”

“Oh, no you don’t!” said the elder sister. Sapphira should have known her little sister was up to something. “You’re coming home with the rest of the family.”

“No…,” said Diamond thoughtfully, “I am seriously thinking about staying here.”

“You can’t possibly!” Sapphira was getting worried. “What is Mrs. Brownfield going to do with a nursemaid who cannot comfort her six year old lad having a nightmare because the lass is busy having a nightmare of her own?”

“Mrs. Brownfield doesn’t have to know,” answered a confident Diamond. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Sapphira continued, “And what about ponies? You detest being around them.”

“I have absolutely no problem with ponies--as long as they’re hitched up to something.”

“Diamond, you’re impossible!” Sapphira shook her head in disbelief. “Besides, mother will never agree to it. You’re still very much a juvenile.”

Before Diamond could retort, the sisters both turned toward the sound of knocking upon the adjoining door, interrupting their disagreement. “I thought I heard voices in here,” said Pimpernel, peering round the door. Noting the packed luggage atop the bed she added, “I am sorry to see you go, Sapphira. Thank you for helping with my children.”

Little Hilfred slipped in between the door and his mummy’s skirt. He also saw the luggage all packed and latched; he began to cry. “You’re going away, aren’t you? Like Miss Molena did.”

Pimpernel called for Gelly to come and get his little brother. “I want absolute quiet for the next quarter hour,” she softly, but firmly admonished her eldest. “Not a peep out of you three. I wish to speak with Miss Sapphira and Miss Diamond for a few minutes.”

Gelly nodded, placing a protective arm around Hilly. Gelly understood the reason why Sapphira was leaving, although he still did not appreciate his brother’s heart being broken in the process--nor his uncle’s.

Pimpernel sat down in the chair near the door while the siblings sat together upon the bed. She first addressed the younger lass. “Diamond, you said earlier that you have experience with minding children. How much experience?”

Sapphira started to speak but was quickly cut off by Diamond. “I started out four years ago minding Mrs. Hedgerow’s two lasses whenever she went to market. Their ages at the time were five and eight. Presently, and for the past year, I have been minding Mrs. Oatbarton’s three children when she and Mr. Oatbarton are out at social gatherings. She has two lads, ages one and four, and their sister, who is almost seven.”

Pimpernel was impressed at Diamond’s repertoire. It was Mrs. Oatbarton’s great-great-great-great-grandfather who founded Oatbarton in the Northfarthing of the Shire. She remembered meeting the very same Mrs. Oatbarton at the Free Fair six years ago when the eldest child was just an infant, recalling her being very picky about who held her baby daughter and who watched over her. “Very good, Diamond,” said Pimpernel. “If I may ask, how old are you?”

Diamond didn’t want the chance of staying at Great Smials to pass her by. Without missing a beat the lass blurted out, “I’ll be thirty-one very soon!”

Sapphira rolled her eyes, “She’ll be thirty-one at Yule. Truth of the matter, Mrs. Brownfield, is that my sister should be perfect for the position, except…” she trailed off. Diamond grew annoyed with her sister.

Pimpernel was curious, “Except for what?”

“I told you about my father’s accident after I arrived here,” Sapphira began, “however, I didn’t mention that it was Diamond who found him inside the pen. Diamond became hysterical. She--,” Sapphira faltered in her speech, “Diamond has no memory of that night yet continues to have nightmares over it.”

“Everyone has a nightmare once in a while,” said Pimpernel, without revealing any information about her own brother. Then asked, “You don’t throw things or injure yourself or others, do you?”

Diamond wanted to run and hide! Sapphira had no right to divulge her deepest secret. Mrs. Brownfield must think of her as a faunt. “No, ma’am.”

“Diamond, would you give thought to minding my children in my absence? The wage is fair, and there are plenty of benefits that come with the position.”

Diamond’s face went from dejected to elated at hearing Pimpernel’s offer. She smiled wide, answering with a resounding ‘yes’, then became more sombre--more “grown up”, “I mean--yes, Mrs. Brownfield. And thank you for this opportunity.”

“That it is, little sister,” added Sapphira, “but your only obstacle now is to convince mum.”

“We can speak with her together, shall we, Diamond?” said Pim.

Diamond nodded, however, she was well aware of the difficulty in persuading her mother; Opal could be shrewd when it came to business dealings. Sapphira agreed to mind the lads one last time while Diamond and Mrs. Brownfield went to speak with Mrs. North-took.

* * *

It was near to midnight when Diamond crept out of the room she and Gemma shared in the guest quarters. She held her only piece of luggage in one hand while trying to quietly manage closing the door with the other. Hefting her overstuffed bag, Diamond counted the passing hallways as she walked the main passage until she came upon the Thain’s tunnels and then smiled. She was moving into Sapphira’s old living quarters!

Diamond still marvelled at the meeting that took place earlier in the evening. Good old Mrs. Brownfield could be just as clever as Opal North-took--bringing out the fact that Sapphira was giving little or no notice to leaving her position. So surely Mrs. North-took could spare young Diamond for just a while--that is, until Pimpernel could properly search for a replacement. However, Diamond meant to immediately prove herself worthy to Mrs. Brownfield; she meant to stay at Great Smials. How often does an opportunity like this come by? Diamond would return home to visit of course, but not to live. The young lass felt that this was the beginning of growing up and she loved her newfound independence.

As she passed one particular door painted green and trimmed in red, it suddenly opened up, startling her. She lost her hold on her heavy luggage, desperately trying to regain her hold as she watched it tumble out of her grasp. It fell to the decorative stone floor, scattering her belongings all over it. She gazed despondently at the mess; now it would be well after midnight before she crawled into her new bed, and tomorrow would be her first day on the job.

“I am terribly sorry,” said Pippin, stepping outside for a bite to eat. After missing supper, his stomach had begun to protest the abuse of not eating. Also, Paladin stopped by earlier to console his lad and to have a long talk. After his father left, Pippin felt somewhat better, which helped to bring his appetite along.

Diamond observed that Mr. Peregrin’s voice still held a tinge of sadness, however, she was glad to see him getting out of his room--however late it was. She next looked down at the mess of clothing, getting down on her haunches to pick it all up. Diamond saw that her underthings had been scattered as well--out for all the world--and Mr. Peregrin--to see. “Turn around, Mr. Peregrin.”

“Why?”

“Turn around,” she insisted.

Pippin grudgingly obeyed, doing as the young lass told him. “I’ve seen ladies’ underclothes before, Gemma. I grew up with three older sisters--and you wouldn’t believe what other garments I’ve seen.”

That did it! Diamond stood up with her hands on her hips addressing the lad, “First of all, I am not Gemma. She may be taller, but I am older. My name is Diamond North-took. And, Mr. Peregrin--you may have seen your sisters’ underclothes, but you haven’t seen mine.”

Pippin couldn’t help but smirk at the little lass’s temper. He sadly recalled running into another North-took lass’s temper a month ago. Apparently, Pimpernel had hired one of Sapphira’s younger sisters to take over the task of minding his nephews. It appeared that Miss Diamond would be here to stay--at least for a while. Pippin wondered how his sister managed that one with the lass seeming so young. Either way, Pippin would guard his heart well this time. He waited a proper minute before asking, “Am I allowed to turn back round?”

“Wait…,” said Diamond firmly, clutching an armful of clothes. She shoved the bunch into her bag and then latched it. “Now you may.”

Pippin turned back round to face the young lass then signalled with his eyes toward a lacy garment still lying on the floor behind her. He politely cleared his throat, turning round once more to face his door. Pippin was finding this quite amusing. He patiently waited for her to acknowledge that everything was picked up.

“Thank you,” Diamond said, a bit flushed.

“You're welcome,” said Pippin. Indicating to her full arms, he asked, “Do you need further assistance with getting into your room?”

“No, sir,” a weary Diamond answered. “I can manage, thank you.”

“Please call me Pippin,” he said. He would have taken the heavy bag from her, however it had already broke open once; he truly did not wish for her to be embarrassed again. Her arms completely occupied with holding her belongings, Pippin knew that she would have trouble with the door handle no matter what she thought she could manage. Gazing at the heavy bag it seemed to Pippin that none of the North-took lasses knew how to pack lightly. He would walk beside Diamond to ensure she would have no further difficulties.

“That wouldn’t be proper,” she answered in regard to his name. “You’re Mrs. Brownfield’s brother…although I wouldn’t mind calling you Mr. Pippin.”

“Sapph--,” Pippin began and then stopped. Sapphira indeed called him by his shortened name at his request, then again, maybe these sisters weren’t altogether alike. Perhaps in getting to know one, he would eventually come to understand the actions of the other. Moreover, Diamond was proving to be a rarity all by herself; this was the same lass whose eyes met his the night before--who probably saw more into his soul than he himself wanted or realized. As the twosome stopped in front of the door painted a plain brown colour, he saw young Diamond break into a huge smile. A placard had been placed upon her door that simply read, Miss Diamond North-took.

At seeing her lovely smile, Pippin smiled his first genuine smile of the day, although he had no idea how many more he had in store. He leaned in, turned the door handle then said, “Welcome to Great Smials, Miss Diamond North-took.”

TBC

Chapter Twelve - Fate Arrives

Diamond North-took sat comfortably on the bench swing in a shaded garden of Great Smials, breathing in the sweet fragrance of roses. Chirping birds gaily twittered in nearby hedges, their singing half-heard by the contented lass. The young tween felt a gentle Forelithe breeze tussle the soft strands of chestnut curls that framed her comely face. The lads were attending their music lessons on this Monday afternoon so Diamond had a couple hours of free time. She couldn’t help but let out a happy snigger. Here she sat under the sweet shade of a rose trellis in the rose garden at Great Smials. She--a lass only thirty years old, on her own--for all intents and purposes, and away from that…house.

Actually, it wasn’t exactly the house that she detested-- it was the structure that stood behind it. Diamond truly had no memories surrounding her father’s death, which made her feel utterly confused and fearful at these horrific sensations; constantly frightened of an imaginary dead hobbit that stalked her in her dreams.

Meanwhile in the garden, however, Diamond sighed with delight at the prospect of her future--and she had had no nightmares since taking up residence in her new abode…so far. She lazily pushed the bench swing with her toes on the ground while sitting with a very interesting book resting in both of her hands. It was a book about how to raise respectful Took children--written by Adamanta Chubb-Took. Apparently, this feat was a rather difficult one to accomplish. From what Diamond had read so far, she suspected that Adamanta’s greatest challenge had been her youngest lad, Isengar. Wilful, mischievous, saucy…yet somehow the experiences of rearing her first eleven children enabled her to survive the twelfth. Adamanta peppered the wee tales of her brood’s escapades with wry humour, so due to her own familiarity with a child’s behaviour, Diamond laughed much of the time, empathizing with the author.

“A fair day, isn’t it?”

Diamond startled in her seat, reddening at her solitary giggling. She covered her mouth in embarrassment, “I’m sorry--was I being too loud?”

Pippin sat down upon another stationary bench off to the side within the rose garden. His heart remained heavy; his recovery slow from his heartache. “No need to apologize, Miss Diamond. I was just taking a casual stroll to my favourite spot in the entire north garden.”

Diamond sat up straight, placing a marker in between the leaves of paper. “Am I intruding?”

Pippin smiled faintly, “No. I suppose the that question should be, am I intruding upon you?”

“No, sir,” replied Diamond. Their eyes met once more, although this time it was Diamond who quickly looked away.

Pippin mentioned nothing to the lass about her piercing gazes. He would ask her about them another time. He wearily looked about the garden, taking in a long breath. “I would prefer that you call me Pippin, if you please.”

Diamond thought about it then answered, “Very well. Then my answer should be, no, you are not, Mr. Pippin.” She smiled impishly.

Vaguely, Pippin returned her smile. “Well, you have lived here at the Smials for a week now--how do you like it?”

Diamond’s smile went wider, “I like it very much. I’m getting to know folks.”

“Truthfully?” asked Pippin sceptically. “You don’t miss your family--or perhaps a beau you ran away from?” Pippin couldn’t help his acerbic humour, his feelings still a bit raw from Sapphira.

“I don’t’ have a beau; I’ve never had one,” Diamond answered honestly and with understanding. In contending with her nightmares, young Diamond never gave much thought to a serious or steady beau. Who would want a lass who’s afraid of ponies and plagued with nightmares anyway? Truth be told, Diamond felt she would most likely end up a spinster. Where the understanding for Mr. Pippin came from, Diamond had no clue, yet it was there in her heart--and it was for Pippin. Compassion deep within her soul drove her to win his trust…his friendship. The poor fellow looked as if he could use a friend right now.

To further answer his question and put him at ease, Diamond revealed her not-so-secret plans for her life, however foolish they may sound to him. “I don’t care to have a beau right now,” she added, “I have recently discovered that love is far too complicated. I believe I shall fall in love…perhaps when I’m thirty nine or forty years old.”

Pippin held in his laugher; could this lass indeed be that innocent? “Thirty nine or forty?” he asked, suppressing a smile. “Not thirty five or thirty six?” He thought that perhaps his sister had plucked a wee piece of fruit too soon from the vine. Pippin fully expected the young tween to become homesick after another week. By then, Pimpernel hoped she should have another child minder in her employ. Pippin decided to change the subject.

“Have the lads given you any problems?”

“None at all,” Diamond replied, then smiled. “Hilly is so sweet! He is always cheerful, wanting to help. I suspect he gets it from watching Gelly. Gelly has been helpful since the day I started--explaining where things are kept, keeping Tilby occupied if Hilly requires my attention for just a bit. Tilby is delightful, too--his sense of humour seems to be developing, so his brothers and I have been the usual listeners to his invented funny stories.”

He didn’t let on, but Pippin was impressed with Diamond’s knowledge of his nephews. No matter though; he gave her exactly a week--when he figured the young tween would have had enough, purchasing the next available seat in the coach heading to the Northfarthing. Pippin took his timepiece out of his waistcoat pocket, opening it up. “I have a meeting in ten minutes,” he said rising up from his seat. “Please excuse me.” He started to walk off but then turned back to Diamond. “Lest I forget to mention it to Pimpernel, the lads’ studies will resume tomorrow. Please have the them in the library at eight o’clock sharp.”

~ ~ ~

It was quiet inside the small, dark room save for the restless breathing of the slumbering tween. She twisted and turned in her sleep in search of rest, however, she found none, entwining herself with the bed linen in the process. “Stop!” she repeatedly uttered in her sleep. “Go…”

Suddenly her eyes shot open; she bolted upright in her bed, heart pounding inside her chest. Diamond gasped for air, placing her hand upon her bosom as if to slow down her beating heart. The light! Where’s the light?, her thoughts screamed from within. Heart still thumping hard against her chest, Diamond fumbled in the dark toward her nightstand, her fingers searching for the candle she lit just before retiring, however, the twitching of her hand sent an unseen object crashing to the floor. Feeling as if the very walls were closing in upon her, Diamond gathered her courage, crawling on all fours toward the dimly lit crack beneath the hallway door. The tunnels customarily had a few wall sconces lit during the night hours. Finding the door handle, Diamond breathed in a sigh of relief as she drank in the blessed light. She sat upon the floor leaning against the wall shaking like a leaf.

“I wonder if I screamed this time,” Diamond whispered under her breath.

Pimpernel stirred when she heard something clatter to the floor in one of the back bedrooms. She sat up, turning up her bedside lamp. Her motherly instincts homed in on the possibility of one of her lads perhaps having a bad dream or for some reason couldn’t sleep. Pimpernel rose up, pulled on her nightcoat then lit the candle on her nightstand, taking it with her. She tread lightly in the darkness, not wanting to disturb her other lads--just in case the restless child turned over and fell back to sleep.

She first opened Gelly’s door, peering inside at her eldest quietly sleeping, curled up underneath his favourite blanket. Next, she went to the larger bedroom that Tilby and Hilly shared. There was a third bedroom that used to be the nursery, however, the lads paid a small price in sharing this larger one so that the they could have a playroom inside the apartment on rainy days. Both Tilby and Hilly were sound asleep. She briefly looked inside the playroom, although all three of the children knew better than to be in the playroom at this hour. Again, she found nothing amiss.

Puzzled, she turned back toward her own bedroom and then caught sight of a glowing light emitting from the crack under Diamond’s adjoining door. There seemed to be much more light than normal. She knew about Diamond keeping a candle lit, so this additional light was out of the ordinary. Rather than wake the lads with the noise of opening the adjoining door and hearing the subsequent conversation, Pimpernel walked back through the small hallway, through the eating area and then the parlour. Opening the round yellow door Pim winced at the bright light, then spied a lone small figure further down the hallway, sitting on the cold floor just outside her own door. Pimpernel carefully approached the lass.

“Diamond?”

Diamond didn’t look up, not wanting to reveal her tears and fear. “Yes, ma’am.”

“What happened?”

“The candle…went out,” Diamond sniffled. “I couldn’t see my way to the door…I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Was it a bad dream, Diamond?” A long moment passed before Diamond nodded, head still bowed. Pim crouched down next to the tween, taking Diamond’s hand in her own. She’d spoken with Pippin once after he had a go with his nightmares, so Pimpernel understood that it was vital for Diamond to have a light throughout the night hours. “You know,” she began, speaking softly to Diamond, “I have found that a nice glass of warm milk and nutmeg has helped me fall back to sleep after a fitful dream--or if I merely cannot sleep. There are still a few boarding servants still up and about in the kitchens; why don’t you go and ask one to prepare you a glass?” Pimpernel gave Diamond’s hand a gentle squeeze. “And tomorrow we shall see about getting a lamp for your room. They don’t go out as easily,” she winked.

Slowly Diamond stood to her feet. “You are very kind, Mrs. Brownfield.”

“Well,” said Pim now smiling, “I have found that it is to my advantage; in the past ten days you have managed to wrap all three of my lads around your fingers. That is not easily done--especially with Gelly. You are definitely a charming lass, Diamond, and I thank you for your hard work. Now then…get your nightcoat, clean your face, and then see about your glass of milk.”

“Yes, ma’am, and thank you,” said Diamond, already feeling better.

Diamond had done just as Mrs. Brownfield suggested and soon found herself walking toward the kitchens, counting the tunnels as she went so as not to get lost. Something Sapphira had taught her younger sibling before returning to Long Cleeve.

“Glass’ll be too hot for yer hands, miss,” said the tweenaged servant. “’Ere’s a mug for ye.”

“Thank you, Viola,” said Diamond, taking the mug with a tea towel wrapped around it.

“Are ye sure ye want no tray, miss?”

“No--I’m fine, thank you again.” Diamond marvelled at the youth of the servant. She and Viola were the same age, yet Viola had already been living at the Smials for ten years, beginning her apprenticeship at the ripe old age of twenty. “My ma died when I was nineteen an’ my dad couldn’t take care of us lasses,” said Viola when Diamond nonchalantly asked questions.

“I’m sorry, Miss Viola,” Diamond replied, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No pryin’,” said Viola. “Life happens, my ma used t’ say. And,” she chuckled without spite, “most folk just call me Viola. No ‘miss’, if ye please.”

“It was nice to meet you, Viola,” Diamond smiled, turning toward the door.

“The kitchen mistress is goin’ t’ let me stew the meat for tomorrow’s supper,” said Viola excitedly, “ye got t’ let me know how the Thain and the Mistress like it.”

Diamond hesitated, “I only eat with Mrs. Brownfield and her family when invited--but I daresay that I eat the same food that they do. I shall send word to the kitchens if I hear Mrs. Brownfield compliment the supper afterward.”

“Thank ye!” Viola truly liked this new child minder and told Diamond so, unaware that the two were related. “She was nice, but always sad…kept t’ herself mostly.”

Diamond genuinely smiled--to be considered “better” than her sister was indeed high praise. “Thank you again, Viola. Goodnight to you.”

“And ye,” curtsied the servant.

Diamond strolled back to her room with a spring in her step, warm mug in hand. As she walked, Diamond mused further on her late night kitchen conversation with Viola. She nearly forgot about her nightmare until she counted down…four…three…two… Just as she reached “one” and began to round the last corner, Diamond was suddenly knocked back with a force, spilling warm milk all over her and her nightcoat.

“Diamond?”

Diamond gasped, feeling warm and sticky…milk all over the floor. Fortunately, she did not lose her grip on the mug. “I will get a mop and clean it up,” she said, looking around for a place to put the dripping mug yet finding none. “I’m sorry, Mr. Pippin--I should have been paying attention.”

Pippin also had some milk spilled all over his own nightcoat, but not too much. He would survive, although it appeared the young tween would melt soon. “Wait, wait, Diamond,” he said, gently taking the mug from the bemused lass. “We both should have been paying attention. I, too, am sorry for the mess, but--why are you up so late?”

Diamond looked down at her feet, feeling quite embarrassed. “I…I couldn’t sleep.”

Weary himself, which was due to his own restlessness, Pippin sighed at the young lass. At this moment, she appeared so vulnerable. “I couldn’t sleep, either. Go and clean up while I go fetch us both a mug of warm milk--with nutmeg, right?” he added the last. He saw Diamond nod.

“Yes, Mr. Pippin--made by Viola.”

Pippin winked at the anxious lass, “Viola makes the best warm milk. When I return, would you like to play a game of Draughts?”

“I would like that,” answered Diamond. She had decided last week that fate would be her guide as for friendship with Mr. Pippin. Well, it seemed that fate was here tonight. Diamond often thought of what she would say to the heartbroken lad should a chance meeting happen. She decided that a game of Draughts would be a great tool for getting her drowsy again--and for befriending the sad hobbit.

She didn’t have long to wonder about what she would say. After Pippin left for the kitchens, Diamond went to change clothes; soon both hobbits were sitting in the common room at a game table. She watched as Pippin reverentially opened a wooden casket he brought in, carefully taking out the game pieces and playing board.

Pippin noted that Diamond saw his odd reverence toward the game. “This game was a special gift from a dear friend in Minas Tirith” he explained while small discs painted in deep red and black rolled upon the finely crafted leather game board.

“Minas Tirith…,” repeated Diamond thoughtfully. “What sort of place is Minas Tirith? Is it a hamlet near Bree?”

Pippin did his best to hide his smirk. “No. It is a large city made with white stone upon a mountainside. Rising seven levels to the pinnacle, where the High King sits on his throne.”

Diamond’s eyes widened with awe; imagining such a city was incomprehensible to her. Hobbiton and Tuckborough were the largest towns she had ever been to in her life. For now, it was enough to know that Minas Tirith was in the south--where the High King dwelt. Young Diamond opted to ask about something a little more understandable. “May I inquire about the dear friend who gave you this game? How did you meet him--and what pressed him to give you such a generous gift?

“Yes, you may,” answered Pippin, suddenly laughing at her inquisitiveness. Pippin realized that he felt comfortable round the young lass; comfortable enough to speak about his journey south. Not so much about the Quest itself, but he saw no harm in talking about the places that he had seen and people that he met along the way. He paused in thought, trying to recall if Posey or Sapphira had ever asked such a question…and he came up empty.

“His name is Beregond,” answered Pippin. “At the time of my journey, he lived in Minas Tirith, but now lives in Emyn Arnen. There, he is Captain of the White Company, the Guard of Lord Faramir--the Prince of Ithilien.”

Diamond laughed to her herself, Princes and Kings! For as much as she believed Pippin, Diamond also imagined that she was getting in a bit over her head. Outwardly, she remained composed. “You didn’t say why Mr. Beregond gave you this lovely game,” she said with genuine interest, placing her red discs upon the black squares.

“I was getting to that,” said Pippin, taking a sip of his milk. “Storytelling is thirsty business.” He saw Diamond laugh and it made him feel…better. Not good, but better than he had in recent days. “As I was saying…”

On they talked into the night.

TBC

Chapter Thirteen - Settling In

A fortnight went by as Diamond continued settling in to her room at Great Smials. She had rearranged all the furniture in her room with the help of Pimpernel, chose a beautifully woven tapestry to hang upon her wall, and then noticed a rather lovely drawing of a charming farm smial, although she had no idea whose farm it was nor who drew the sketch. Printed in the bottom right corner was an inscription “MB”. She silently thanked “MB” for his--or her--lovely rendition of Shire living, then up it went on the wall above her desk. Diamond sewed colourful ruffles onto her pillow linens and then did the same for her quilt. No one colour overtook the others; she liked them all equally, however, she felt that the bright reds did much to cheer her room--as did the lovely window! The reward of living on the same side of the tunnel as the Thain and his children was having her own window. All the rooms on this side had windows; the rooms on the other side were the family’s personal dining room, parlour, and bathing rooms.

In between the times of watching the lads and decorating her room, Diamond kept busy with getting to know various other hobbits on staff. She continued to cultivate her rapport with Mr. Pippin, and her friendship with Viola grew, as did newer ones with the gardener and Mistress Took’s personal servant.

Mr. Greenhill, the gardener, had helped Diamond plant her very own lilac bush in the north garden near a small bench that she imagined would afford her solitude to think, or when she just wanted to be alone. Diamond sometimes fell into a melancholy after a bout with her nightmare, though it rarely lasted longer than a day or two. Mr. Greenhill had a wife and two young lads, all living in the Smials. He, like Viola, had arrived at Great Smials as an orphan.

Mrs. Poppy served as Mistress Took’s personal attendant. With her, it was initially all small talk, however, the lass soon warmed up to the friendly new child-minder. A mere five years older than Diamond, Poppy did not live and board in the Smials like Viola or Mr. Greenhill, but had a husband that she went home to every night in Tuckborough. Diamond learned directly from Poppy that the lass had married three years ago and had not yet conceived. This continually worried Poppy, and Diamond would often console her friend when the anxiety of it all overwhelmed her.

Diamond quickly became known among the staff at the Smials as the “wee social minder”. Not that anyone thought she was nosy, but to them, young Diamond seemed to intermingle more with the other hobbits in the Smials than Mrs. Brownfield’s pervious child-minder, who would much rather curl up with a book from the library.

Currently, Diamond was spending the afternoon quietly indoors sewing her new curtains--to match her quilt and pillow linens, of course. She hummed a merry song as she stitched the hem. Pimpernel had taken her lads on a small picnic to a pond near to the farm where she and Pippin grew up. Diamond gazed at the sketch upon her wall, wondering if the farm where Mrs. Brownfield grew up looked anything like that one.

Something caught her attention at the hall door. She blinked in surprise to see that a white envelope had been slipped inside under the crack. “Post!” a hobbit’s voice emanated from outside in the hallway. A letter! Today was the first time an envelope had been delivered to Miss Diamond North-took. Diamond excitedly laid aside the curtains then got up from her rocking chair to fetch the letter. She eagerly read the sender’s name: Mrs. Sapphira Haymaker.

Her legs suddenly growing weak, Diamond sank onto her bed, staring at the strange name. Sapphira Haymaker…that could only mean one thing. Tears welled in Diamond’s eyes, blurring the script upon the envelope. Diamond thought for sure that Sapphira would wait to be married--at least until she could get the time off to travel north to be at her sister’s wedding. Sapphira knew that Diamond wanted to be there. The tween wiped at the tears that fell, wondering at what she missed.

Diamond heard the lads’ voices entering Mrs. Brownfield’s apartment. They were home! Not wanting to answer a host of questions as to why she was teary-eyed, Diamond quietly slipped out her hall door. She only wanted enough time to compose herself. Diamond decided that the library should be the best place for quietude, so she headed for that particular tunnel. Her only thought was to escape with a book--not so much to read it, but to ward off people who may want to commiserate, seeing her red puffy eyes. For now, Diamond, the “wee social minder” sought solitude. What she didn’t expect was the music she heard as she drew near to the library door. The music wasn’t coming from inside the library, but it emanated from a room a couple more doors down the hallway--closer to the dead-end portion of the tunnel.

* * *

Pippin immersed himself deeply into his favourite instrument--the one that best expressed his innermost feelings. His chin rested upon his violin as he closed his eyes, once more reliving the memories…

“Are you going to bury me?”…

Pippin again saw Bergil running up the streets of the city while running errands for the healers at the Houses of Healing.

“…tell them up there that I have a sick hobbit, a perian, mind you…”

In his music room, eyes still closed, Pippin moved the bow over the strings, bringing forth the melody he had composed in his head. Memories flashed in his mind of his dear Merry lying injured and unconscious in his lap drew tears. Pippin’s emotions resonated through his music room by way of the instrument in his hands; the tears pooled beneath his eyelashes to slowly roll down his cheeks. He had never felt so frightened and helpless than at that time in the streets of Minas Tirith.

He played on, the mournful music filling his soul.

Pippin next saw his beloved cousin in the Houses of Healing, face ashen, wandering aimlessly in dark dreams. He had listened all the day long to Merry’s cries while he slept in his fitful slumber. Cries that now echoed in his head…

The music rose to a crescendo; it overwhelmed Pippin’s entire being, biting deep into his heart. He continued to play his violin until the strength in his arms began to fail.

When he could play no longer, Pippin angrily flung his bow at the wall. Full of pent up emotions he sank to the tattered old chair set behind him--sweating, out of breath, and in tears. Pippin was angry that these memories would go on and on for the rest of his life. In truth, he was relieved that playing his violin would be one of the few outlets given him to express his anger, his fears, and even the few joys from the Quest. Pippin inwardly wondered if Merry had picked up his favourite hobby of sketching again. He had let it fall by the wayside when he became of age…and obsessed with a certain engaging lass named Estella. Pippin contemplated what sort of dark tales his cousin’s portraits should tell.

Before leaving his room, Pippin gathered the scattered parchments on the table that had musical notes written on them. Generally, hobbits did not write their music on paper; not many hobbits knew their letters let alone possessing the knowledge to actually write music. Pippin had already been tutored in the basic knowledge when a child, however, he picked up much more during his and Merry’s first obligatory duty rotation in Rohan and Minas Tirith five years ago. The realm of Gondor was filled with skilled musicians.

Pippin sniffled, wiping his nose, eyes, and brow with a pocket-handkerchief then readied to leave. Leaving his sheet music in a neat pile upon the table, Pippin expected that he would too soon return to his small sanctuary within the walls of Great Smials. Furthermore, as he opened the door to exit, he didn’t expect to see a particular young lass sitting upon the cold stone floor near the threshold.

“Diamond?”

Embarrassed, the young lass jumped to her feet. “I--I…” she fumbled for her tongue, eyes cast to the decorative stone. “I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

Pippin raised an eyebrow. “Then, pray tell, what were you doing sitting at my door?”

Diamond gaped in surprise. “Your door? I thought that you lived--” she turned back in the direction of the hallway opening, gesturing toward the Thain’s tunnel.

“I don’t live here,” explained Pippin to the distraught lass. “It’s my room in that it…well, when I seek to be alone I come here.”

“I didn’t mean to startle you, Mr. Pippin,” said Diamond. She took note of several small scars on the lad’s arms and wrists. Self-conscious about his scars, Pippin tugged firmly on his shirtsleeves, covering them up again. Diamond flustered once more. “I…I thought the music was…beautiful. Was…was it you playing?”

Ever the mischievous one, Pippin looked back inside his room then smirked. “Hullo!” he called inside the room and then turned to Diamond, “No…nobody else inside.” Pippin thought that a bit of humour might put the lass at ease. But Diamond wasn’t smiling. Pippin sighed gloomily, realizing he had been inconsiderate. “I’m sorry,” he said more softly. “Seems we’re both saying that a lot lately.”

Diamond said nothing, her face still downcast.

Pippin would have sworn that he saw a teardrop fall just now. “What’s wrong, Diamond?” he asked sincerely. “Come in and sit,” he said, gently bringing her inside “his room”. Pippin set the lass in the same chair he sat in a mere minute ago then checked the hallway outside for busybodies. After his run-in with Posey, Pippin wasn’t taking any chances; he propped the door wide open with another table chair.

Pippin then went to an old bureau kept inside the room, pulling one of the drawers open. He strategically hid the supply of handkerchiefs he kept for the occasional upsets he would experience while composing his music. Taking a seat at the table near to the young lass, Pippin handed her a fresh cloth. “What is making you so sad?”

Diamond was silent for a long minute, not knowing how to tell her friend about his old love. “I got a letter from Sapphira today,” she finally spoke, her voice filled with emotion.

Pippin had a bad feeling of what Diamond would say next. He watched her stall by wiping her nose with the handkerchief. “What did she say?” he asked, half of him truly wanting to know, the other half inwardly cringing.

“She and Hildebrand were married this past Highday,” she answered then sobbed. “I wasn’t there to see it.”

“You had plans to attend, did you not?” asked Pippin, still reeling from the news.

“Yes.”

Pippin looked around his music room knowing that his next “performance” would be expressing yet more sadness…and more anger. “Well,” said Pippin rather detached, “it seems we both have been spurned by the same lass.”

“She’s my sister, Mr. Pippin,” cried Diamond. “There has to be a good reason for it. I don’t understand it--we’ve always been close.”

Ruing his last remark, Pippin took the tween’s hand in his to console her. “There indeed must be a good reason, Diamond,” he said. However, there was only one reason that Pippin could think of at that point. Diamond looked up at him now with sad, puffy brown eyes as if seeking an answer. Pippin looked deep into them, finding nothing but sadness. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” she sniffed.

“You know…” Pippin blinked his eyes, “this. You did it the night Sa--your sister and I returned from Buckland. You looked at me strangely. I know because I felt it.”

Diamond searched her own thoughts, wondering what in blazes Mr. Pippin was speaking about. “I just…looked at you. I am sorry if this causes you unease. I won’t look at you anymore, if you don’t want.” Having said this, the young lass turned away from Pippin, sitting with her back to him.

Pippin gently pulled Diamond back round. “I don’t mean a casual look, Diamond, I would swear with red ink that your eyes penetrated my soul…whatever I was feeling that night, you also felt it.”

Now Diamond remembered what the lad was speaking of. She indeed had gazed into his eyes and then felt a shiver afterward. “Oh…well…I don’t know what happened. That feeling was new to me, too--it never happened to me before--and it frightened me.”

“What did you see?” Pippin truly wanted to know; did she see his superficial emotions, or worse--the deep scars from the Quest?

Diamond began to be troubled; what was he accusing her of? “Honest--I saw nothing. How can a hobbit see another’s soul?”

“I don’t mean to upset you, Diamond-lass,” Pippin said to calm her. “I was…merely curious. Forget that I even asked.”

Diamond looked about Pippin’s music room; a very strange room, she thought. Walls covered with wool--apparently, to absorb sound, however, in spite of the wool, it wasn’t entirely soundproof. She also saw leafs of parchment stacked in several piles; each one bearing dotted designs written upon them--some with sticks, sticks with wee banners, dots with holes in them…Diamond wondered at it all. “What is that?” she asked pointing toward the sheet music.

“Music,” Pippin answered simply, although he doubted that she would understand. To Pippin, her perceptiveness was most important; her understanding was the key to the worth of his music--and the worth of his experiences.

The young hobbit had had time to consider the “value” his past loves had placed on his life-changing journey. Posey had absolutely no interest in it whatsoever. Sapphira, although a tad curious, played it off as something he had to get out of his system and would now stay in the Shire and grow some hobbit-sense. If he told Diamond about his journey, how would the tween react? Would she even believe him--or would she also reject him?

Without Pippin saying anything further, Diamond stood to her feet, walking to the other side of the table. The tween held her fingers out to touch the magnificent instrument and then drew back. “This is the violin you were playing, isn’t it?”

“I got itwhile in Minas Tirith,” said Pippin.

“You play it so beautifully,” she remarked wondrously, gazing at the long slender neck.

Pippin’s music had never been complimented by a near stranger. He got up from his chair and then placed his violin on the table just so, so that she could have a closer look at it. “Yes, it is the same one I was playing--and well, I can’t be the judge of my own efforts.”

“I have heard you play, Mr. Pippin,” said Diamond, “and I judge you to be a very fine violin player. While I listened to your music, I fancied I was lost in it. It took me to places I had never been before…and then I cried--because I didn’t want to leave when you stopped.” Diamond became sad, “Then I came back to a world that said my sister got married without me being there to witness it.”

Pippin was almost in tears while listening to the young lass speak--because music often did the same for him. “Sit down, Diamond,” Pippin instructed. He picked up his violin and then walked toward where he had flung his bow earlier. On the way back he shut the door. He stood before Diamond, put his chin in the chin rest then placed the retrieved bow over the strings. He lightly drew the bow across them, playing a soft melody that had been swimming inside his head for most of the day.

Diamond closed her eyes, once again finding herself in an unknown part of the Shire--where sisters were always thoughtful, where there was never an Occupation, where the ponies were never aggressive, and where fathers never died.

* * *

“Here we are--back in our own tunnel,” said Pippin, strolling beside young Diamond.

“Thank you for seeing me to my room, Mr. Pippin,” she said with a sincere smile. “And I hope to hear you play your violin again soon.”

While walking the young lass back to her room, Pippin thought that he could almost like her. A very comely lass, considerate, compassionate--a breath of fresh air from all the self-indulgent lasses that he had previously known or courted. Then again…Diamond was also quite young, vulnerable, and inexperienced in the ways of life in general. The wall that guarded his heart went back up.

“Perhaps,” he replied. “Good afternoon to you, Miss Diamond.”

TBC

*Passages in bold italicsare quotes taken from Return Of The King, The Houses of Healing, By JRR Tolkien.

Chapter Fourteen - Painting the Town Green

“Diamond! Wake up!”

Diamond groaned as she tried desperately to grasp what was making her rouse from such a lovely sleep. “Hmmm…”

“Diamond!” someone whispered sharply.

Her eyelids obeyed, flickering open. “Mrs. Brownfield…?”

“I apologize for barging in like this, but Lilly Claypipe is having her baby--now.”

Diamond’s thoughts suddenly became clearer. “So soon?” she asked softly. “Her baby isn’t due for another two weeks.”

“I know that, Lilly knows it, and so do you,” Pim whispered, “but the baby doesn’t. I have to go with mother; she promised Lilly she’d be there for the birth. I don’t know when I’ll return home. The Toyshop in Tuckborough is having a story hour today and I told the lads that I would take them. I need for you to go with them--all right? Pippin is going to release them from their studies early so that they may attend.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you!” said Pimpernel, and out the door she went.

Diamond willed herself to wake the rest of the way, looking at her wall clock in the dim lamplight. “Half past four!” she exclaimed in a whisper, burrowing her head into her pillow. “I wish babies had a better sense of time.”

* * *

“We’re going to be late!” complained Tilby, “We’ll miss the whole beginning of the story.” The lad sat angrily onto the bench by the Great Door of the Smials, pouting.

“The whole beginning?” Gelly teased his brother.

“Leave me alone or I’ll tell Miss Diamond!” the younger shouted back.

Diamond sat beside Tilby silently wondering what in the Shire was making the young lads so cranky. Whatever the cause, she had had it. “Gelly--you sit on one side of me, and Tilby, you stay where you are. I want no more scrapping between you two. You’re supposed to be brothers.”

“Miss Diamond,” whined Hilly, sitting in child-minder’s lap, “it keeps touching me!”

Little Hilfred was unusually quiet yet he also had been behaving out of sorts. “What keeps touching you?”

“The midge,” said the wee lad, rubbing his tired eyes. “It keeps touching me.”

This is going to be a long day, Diamond said to herself. “Where is your uncle, Gelly? He should have been--”

“Should have been out here already?” said Pippin stepping out of one side of the great double doors. “I had to find my notes. I told that to Gelly.”

Gelly gave an exasperated sigh, “I didn’t think that it would take you an age to find them.”

“Up inside, you gooseberry,” Pippin guided his saucy nephew toward the back seat of the open carriage.

“Will we be in time for the story, Uncle?” asked Tilby, climbing up behind his brother.

“Of course!” replied Pippin, tossing a thin children’s book onto the seat. “I’m the one telling the story--and don’t either of you read it ahead of time.”

Diamond sighed when she heard the lads cheering and clapping for good old Uncle Pippin. Perhaps the day wouldn’t be so long after all.

A wee misjudgement on Pippin’s part made story hour more like “story half-hour”. He and Diamond sat inside the open carriage watching the lads play in a small wooded area with their friends.

“When Mrs. Brownfield sees their filthy breeches she is going to be highly displeased with me,” said Diamond perched in the back seat.

Pippin stretched lazily in the front seat yawning, the children’s “book of the half-hour” sitting on the floorboard. “No matter what station in life he is born in, a lad loves dirt,” said Pippin. “Don’t worry on Pimpernel--I’ll deal with my sister.” Pippin swatted at a fly buzzing near his ear, “Perhaps we’ll have a bit of luncheon at the inn before we leave town.”

“Right,” responded Diamond half-heartedly. She looked up as a lass slightly older than her approach the carriage.

The stranger-lass wore a pale pink dress trimmed in lace while holding an umbrella of the same colour above her head to shield the sun rays. Diamond felt a knot form in her stomach; she did not relish the idea of sharing Pippin’s company with another lass. Jealous was the first word that came to her mind, though Diamond shook it away. “I can’t be jealous,” she told herself, though she wondered why she felt the way she did.

“Good afternoon, Pippin!” smiled the lass. “Fancy meeting you here in town.”

Pippin immediately sat up in his seat. “Hullo, Myrtle. How have you been?”

Diamond didn’t understand why she suddenly wished Miss Myrtle would go away. She seemed nice enough, in spite of Diamond’s secret misgivings.

“I’m fine, Pippin, thank you,” said Myrtle, then tilted her umbrella just so…batting her eyes just a little. “It’s quite warm for this time of year, don’t you think?”

“Indeed,” Pippin answered. “Pleasantly warm enough for the Midsummer Fair next week.”

“Are you going?” Myrtle asked coyly.

Diamond watched Myrtle’s gestures closely; she had never seen blatant flirting up close before.

“I am,” answered Pippin, “but I am also afraid that escorting anyone is out of the question this year.”

“Really?” said Myrtle, flashing a glare at Diamond. Her own disappointment at not obtaining the arm of the Thain’s son scarcely hid. Myrtle wondered if this upstart lass had sunk her hooks into the handsome lad--yet Myrtle wasn’t giving up without a fight. She grew confident; Pippin would not lower himself to dance with a working lass. “Well, perhaps we could share a dance or two? I had hoped that we could share the entire evening, but I suppose a dance will suffice.”

Pippin smiled courteously, “Perhaps.”

Myrtle turned to Diamond as if seeing her for the first time. “Have we had the pleasure?”

At this point, Diamond really wished that Miss Myrtle would move on, searching for another companion to dance with. “I don’t believe so,” she said, then got up to give a polite curtsy. “Diamond North-took, at your service and your family’s. I am Mrs. Brownfield’s new child-minder.”

“Myrtle Burrows,” said the well-bred lass with less enthusiasm. “At your service.” She quickly turned back to the only lad present then smiled, “Good day to you, Pippin. I’ll see you at the Fair.”

Pippin waited until Myrtle had entered the Baker’s shop before he let out a loud sigh. “I can only guess what the talk is round here about me not escorting a lass to the dance.”

Diamond smiled, “It will die down--and the lasses will all survive. I think it is more important that you escort a lass when you feel ready.”

Pippin sent a look in Diamond’s direction, “How old are you again?”

She couldn’t help but grin, “I’m old enough, Mr. Pippin.”

Pippin gazed reflectively at his nephews kicking a soft leather ball around with a few other lads. “I genuinely thought that you would have fled home by now.”

“Why is that?” Diamond asked. “Because my sister did?”

Pippin looked down, embarrassed at his comment. “I suppose so…but I also happen to know that you are much younger than she.”

Diamond’s soft brown eyes met Pippin’s. “I am not my sister,” she said, rising up from her seat. She surveyed the group of lads laughing and running heedlessly amid the shade trees. “The lads are looking a bit flushed; they need a draught of water.”

Pippin watched Diamond step out of the carriage and then call the lads over to the market well nearby. He made to get up and help her draw the water when he spied a young lad walk over to the well. With great interest he gaped at the conversation he was too far away to hear. Gelly suddenly broke into a run, running in Pippin’s direction. “Gelly!” Pippin heard Diamond shout, but the lad was already approaching the carriage.

“Rolo’saskingMissDiamondtodance!” Gelly announced as he bounded into the carriage out of breath.

“Slow down, Gel!” said Pippin. “I didn’t catch one word that you uttered.”

Gelly took a huge breath before restarting. “Rolo Hornblower is asking Miss Diamond to dance with him at the Fair next week!” he said excitedly.

Pippin didn’t like the sound of that. He didn’t know Rolo very well and so couldn’t vouch for his integrity. Certainly Pippin would have to investigate this matter further. He rose up from his seat in the carriage walking out toward the well. Pippin would see about this Rolo fellow.

“Then I shall look forward to our dance,” Rolo said giving a gentle-hobbit bow, then began to leave. He also gave a slight bow to Pippin as the Thain’s son drew near. “And good day to you, sir.”

Pippin nodded to the departing lad then looked at Diamond, raising an eyebrow. “Well?”

Red faced, Diamond said , “Yes, Mr. Pippin, this is a well.” Although she knew exactly what he meant.

“The Shire is full of jesters, Miss Diamond,” said Pippin, unravelling the twisted rope that tied the water bucket to the well lever. “However, I can’t imagine you being among them. Especially with a rogue like that,” he indicated with a nod toward a very distant Rolo. He next let the water bucket drop until the it made a splashing sound far below.

“Excuse me?” said Diamond. “He didn’t seem like a rogue to me--I’ll wager you don’t even know Rolo.”

“I at least know of him--you don’t know him at all,” Pippin grunted, turning the handle to bring up the heavy bucket full of water.

“How else shall I get to know a few lads? It’s just a dance--it isn’t as if I’m going to marry him,” Diamond countered.

“Really?” said Pippin, pausing to take a rest. “And if he does ask you to marry him, what will you do--tell him to wait ten years?” Pippin locked the handle in place, hefting the waiting bucket down to the lads to drink. “Half a moment--he only asked for one dance?” Pippin asked incredulously. “What a pathetic excuse for a….”

“Now just a minute!” Diamond had those hands on her hips again. “I don’t remember calling Miss Myrtle a pathetic excuse for a wanton flirt!”

“A wanton flirt?” said Pippin, growing warm from fetching the well water and annoyance. “She was being social!”

“I can be social, too, Mr. Pippin,” Diamond said while batting her eyelashes. “Indeed! Sharing the entire evening with you!” Diamond used the same inflection Myrtle did.

“And what’s wrong with that? I’m really the life of a dance, you know--you can ask my cousin Merry.”

“Mr. Merry isn’t here, now is he?” she retorted.

The three young lads looked from one grown hobbit to the other as the volleys bounced back and forth.

Pippin simply glared at her while he blurted his command. “Everyone over to the eating house for luncheon--now!” he growled. “And we’re going to enjoy the meal whether you like it or not!”

Inside the eating house of the Oak Leaf Inn, luncheon was much more quiet than normal for a certain hobbit group. Pippin kept his eyes on his plate while Gelly and Tilby alternately played with and ate their food. There’s nothing quite like a giant hill of mashed potatoes with a river of gravy oozing through a tunnel, or a gravy moat surrounding the fluffy white kingdom.

“Is that better, Hilly?” Diamond spoke softly into the laddie’s ear. She had cut up his meat into tiny bite-sized pieces then brought him up to sit on her lap. The small child could barely see over the table top to eat his food. She kissed his soft brown ringlets when he nodded his thanks.

The sound of yet another chair scuffling the floor caught Pippin’s attention. He looked up to see the fourth lad walk in the direction of Diamond. Apparently, news of the pretty child-minder had spread like wild-fire in Tuckborough. The young lad stopped in his tracks having caught Pippin’s scathing look and then went back to his own seat. Pippin imagined all of this would be so much simpler if Diamond wasn’t such a bonny maiden. A lad’s bane, he thought, is a lass’s beauty. Pippin figured that the wall he had built to guard his heart had been breached--and he knew that the young lass sitting across from him at the table was responsible for that breach. He sighed, wondering what sort of heartache awaited him at the hands of Miss Diamond North-took.

“I like you, Miss Diamond,” Pippin overheard Hilly whisper back into the child-minder’s ear. The little lad glowered at his uncle, “Can I dance with you at the Fair, Miss Diamond?”

Pippin looked down at his half-eaten mushrooms, feeling guilty over his selfish thoughts. “I’ll be in the carriage waiting,” he said. Wiping his mouth, Pippin excused himself from the table.

Not long after, Diamond, Gelly, Tilby, and Hilly walked hand in hand toward the carriage with full tummies, however, a cloud of gloom remained overhead. Soon the children were arguing over who would get to sit in the front seat with their uncle. Being the youngest, Hilly sat dejectedly beside Diamond in the back. “I always lose,” he mourned.

“I’m sorry, Hill,” Diamond comforted the lad. “But look! We get the entire back seat to ourselves! Why don’t you stretch out and take a nap on the way home?” That seemed to cheer the weary child, so he lay upon the seat and closed his eyes.

For some reason, the locking device that kept the carriage wheels from moving without a driver was stuck. Pippin got down to see what the matter was.

“Put it down, Tilby!” Gelly began reprimanding his younger brother, trying to take away a certain object his brother held in his hand.

“No! I got it first!”

“I’ll tell Uncle Pippin!” Gelly yelled back, tugging on the whip. “Now let go!”

“No!”

“Let go!”

“No!”

Pippin looked up to see the lads struggling over the pony whip. “Tilby, that is not a toy! Put it down this instant!”

With no other thought than to enjoy seeing his brother fall backward into the seat, Tilby suddenly let go. But what happened next never entered his mind.

Gelly indeed fell back into his seat, however, the momentum of the force also flung his hand back….snapping the pony whip elsewhere. A sharp gasp filled the air. Everyone froze.

Pippin grunted as the locking lever finally broke free from its position…and then he looked up. He, too, became still as stone but not for long; his training in Knighthood snapped him into action.

“Miss Diamond!” cried Hilly. “Help, Uncle Pippin--she’s bleeding!”

TBC

A/N: Hullo--after speaking with my expert on staff (lol--my Mentor) she helped me determine which would be better for the story, so I changed "pony crop" to "pony whip".  My aplogies for any inconvenience.

Chapter Fifteen - Who’s Minding the Minder?

More than two and a half hours later, Pippin carried an unconscious Diamond out to the waiting carriage. Out of the corner of his eye, Pippin could see a few onlookers gaping at the bandaged lass and then whisper to one another. He gently laid her on the back seat and then had Gelly sit on the edge in case the jostling got to be too much for her. “Make sure she lies on her side,” Pippin said. In his hands the near-teen held a pail should the lass waken and become ill.

“You and Hilly sit up here with me,” Pippin told Tilby with restrained anger. “You both will sit still and I don’t want to hear a sound out of either of you.”

Pippin looked one last time at the unmoving lass before flicking the reins. As the ponies’ shoes struck a rhythm against the soft earth, Pippin re-lived the last two horrific hours inside the house of Mr. Hallstead’s house.

The healer had to pry the lass’s hand from her wound. He next had his apprentice hold Diamond’s head while he flushed out any debris from the wound. The whip had left a deep cut going back about an inch from the corner of Diamond’s eye. The next step would be to stitch it up. Mr. Hallstead was aware that the tweenager would not be able to withstand the sting of the needle. The only way to keep her head and eye still while suturing would be to knock her out. The healer gave his apprentice a set of instructions and then set to making a concoction from various herbs.

“What are you making?” asked Pippin. He had seen his share of medicines made for wounded soldiers, so Pippin was truly interested to know what the healer planned to feed his self imposed ward. At least, that is what Pippin considered young Diamond at the moment.

“Horsetail…and passionflower,” Mr. Hallstead gladly answered Pippin‘s question. When his mixture was ready he set it aside. He next pulled several cloves of garlic from a basket then crushed them in a bowl. When the apprentice returned he held a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

Pippin watched as the healer poured half of the liquid into his first mixture. “What did you just add?” he asked again.

“Brandy,” said the healer.

“You’re going to kill her!” Pippin stepped forward as if to bar the healer’s way. “Does she look like an old gammer? Look at the lass--I would wager she has never tasted a drop of spirits in her life!”

The healer frowned at Pippin, “That is why I am only giving her half. Stand aside, young hobbit, and let me do what I have been doing nearly all my life.”

Diamond gasped, coughed, and nearly wretched when the healer fed the mixture to her. He waited for the properties of the herbs and brandy to have an effect on the lass before giving her a teaspoon of the minced garlic. At this time, Diamond didn’t have a care in the world; she happily ate it and then licked her lips--which were beginning to feel pretty numb by now. Mr. Hallstead gave her another small sip to wash down the garlic. Not long afterward she fell into a stupor…and then asleep. In spite of all Mr. Hallstead’s precautions, Diamond woke up while he stitched her, although easily restrained due to her intoxication.

Presently, the little group made their way back to Great Smials as the sun began her descent toward the treetops. Pippin took in a deep breath wondering what sort of greeting awaited them. While the healer sewed up Diamond’s wound, Pippin used Mr. Hallstead’s office to compose a note to his family, then sent Gelly running to the nearest courier. Hearing Diamond begin to stir in the back, Pippin brought the carriage to a halt. He turned round just in time to watch her vomit her luncheon all over the back seat and floorboard. So much for the little pail. Beside him, Tilby was on his best behaviour throughout the trip while wiping away tears. Pippin was still very angry, however, he pulled the child close to him. He snapped the reins, resuming the silent journey home.

* * *

Diamond felt herself rise to break the surface of consciousness…then felt utterly sick. Her head pounded with a fierce headache. The lass lay unmoving upon her bed while adjusting to her surroundings, hearing whispers not far away. Diamond felt weak…wanting to sleep…and so she did.

* * *

“The lass woke up briefly while I cleaned her wound and examined it,” said Donnabelle, addressing the family inside the Thain’s apartment. “I know because her breathing quickened for just a minute, and then she was asleep again.”

“Nothing else?” asked Pimpernel, very worried over her tweenaged minder.

“I wouldn’t expect much else until morning, Pimpernel,” said the Smials’ healer. “Mr. Hallstead’s herbal medicines are a bit unconventional, but they do work. His stitching is brilliant; a few years down the road there should be minimal scarring. After time heals it further, hardly noticeable.”

Incredulous, Pimpernel looked at the healer. “A few years? Donnabelle, she’s only thirty years old.”

“I am sorry,” Donnabelle said with sincerity. She stood up to take her leave, giving further instructions of how to care for Diamond’s wound should she not be around to do so.

The Thain rose from his seat to express his gratitude. “Thank you, Donnabelle.”

Once Donnabelle had left the Thain’s apartment, Pimpernel put her face in her hands and wept. “She’s just a tween,” she said sniffling. “Mrs. North-took will never forgive me.”

“It was an accident, love,” said Eglantine, comforting her own daughter. “No one can foresee these kinds of things.”

Pippin sat in a chair off to the side observing the exchange between his mother and sister. No one can foresee these kinds of things?, he silently thought. Maybe not hobbits, he thought to himself.

* * *

Diamond floated to the surface again…this time something tickled her ears, easing her fully into consciousness. Darkness remained before her then she remembered…her eye. Reflexively she reached her hand up toward the bandages…

“No, Diamond,” Pimpernel took the lass’s hand in hers, gently resting them upon her stomach and then sighed. “You mustn’t pull away your bandages.”

Ah! A voice she recognized. “Mrs. Brownfield?” asked a rather sluggish Diamond.

“Yes, it’s me,” said Pim. “You’re in your own bed at Great Smials. It’s half past nine o’clock in the morning.” Gazing at the lass, Pim spoke softly, “I wanted to be here when you woke up to tell you how sorry I am--about my children gravely misbehaving themselves yesterday.”

Diamond then remembered the scuffle between Gelly and Tilby. “How are the lads?” she asked, knowing how terrible they must be feeling.

Pimpernel sighed, “Tilby’s bum is a tad sore, however, he and Gelly are both confined to their rooms. Gelly is for only today, but Tilby is confined for the entire week.”

“I’m certain that it was an accident, Mrs. Brownfield,” offered Diamond.

“Yes, your injury was an accident,” said Pim, “but Tilby has been warned a few times already about playing with the pony whip. I realize that Gelly is trying his best to prove to me he is growing up, however, he should have known better than to wrestle his brother for it. As a result, he gets to spend the day thinking about how he might let an adult intervene the next time.”

Regardless of Pimpernel’s reasoning, Diamond felt bad for “her” lads. “We were all a bit out of sorts yesterday, Mrs. Brownfield, not only the children. Mr. Pippin and I had our own disagreement over a ridiculously trivial matter.” Diamond’s hand reached up to her throbbing head. “I’m thirsty.”

Pimpernel poured a glass of water for Diamond, then helped her to drink it. “Donnabelle said that drinking plenty of liquids should help you feel a bit better. That is, liquids not fermented or distilled,” Pim added in case Diamond misunderstood her.

Diamond wiped away the dribble she felt under her chin. “I thought you and Mistress Took were going to deliver bread hampers to Mrs. Smallburrow in Tookbank?”

“We’re leaving within the hour,” answered Pim, taking Diamond’s hand in hers, “as I said, I wanted to be here when you woke. I have asked Pippin to look after you and the lads until I return. I wouldn’t be going at all except that Mrs. Smallburrow greatly depends upon the help my mother gives her family.”

“Why is Mr. Pippin minding the children--or me?” asked Diamond. “I am fully capable of minding them.”

“Is that so?” Pimpernel had to smile at the lass’s spirit. “And just how are you supposed to manage that with a linen blindfold over your eyes?”

“I only have one injured eye, Mrs. Brownfield,” said Diamond. “If the healer who mended me yesterday had wrapped the bandages properly, then I should be completely fit to watch over the children today.”

“Well, you are not fit at the moment,” said Pimpernel giving the tween’s hand a squeeze, “no matter how improper you feel your bandages are bound.” Rising up to leave, she said, “You are charged to either stay abed or within your room until Donnabelle stops by this afternoon to examine and clean your wound again. Until then, behave yourself Miss Diamond.”

Diamond wisely waited to hear the door handle click shut before releasing her irritation. “Behave myself?” she said under her breath while laying hold of the bandage knot. Only one wee adjustment, she thought. “Am I Gelly’s age?” she continued her muttering, “No, I tell you--”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to take your bandage off, Miss Diamond.”

Diamond let out a yelp, not realizing anyone else was still in her room. “who--how?…Mr. Pippin!” She gaped at the darkness before her eyes, pulling up the blanket to her neck. “Indeed! What if I were getting dressed for the day--where would your honour be? Right in the chamber pot, I tell you.”

Pippin spoke gently but firmly at the tween, “I would not have allowed you to go so far--that is where my honour lies.”

Diamond sighed in frustration. “Mr. Pippin, I cannot see. Only one eye needs a small bandage--not both. I feel like trussed up fowl.”

“You won’t feel so irritable after you’ve had breakfast,” said Pippin. Entering the adjoining door into his sister’s apartment, Pippin entered, taking the small bell off her mantelpiece. He next opened Diamond’s outer door then rang it.

When the servant arrived, Pippin at once began giving instructions. “Miss Diamond and the children are taking breakfast inside the apartment today. Please have the following brought on a food cart: scrambled eggs, ham, hot buttered mushrooms, strawberries and cream, blackberry jam, newly baked bread, a pitcher of fresh water, apple juice...am I leaving out anything?” he muttered the last part. “Oh! Enough to feed three growing lads and one tweenaged lass.” Pausing half a second, he then added, “all right, and one very grown hobbit.” The young servant smiled, understanding Pippin was speaking of himself. They exchanged a few more words before Pippin thanked the servant, re-entering Diamond’s room.

Entering the room, Pippin stopped and stared in disbelief at the child minder. “Have you no idea of what ‘do not take your bandages off’ means?”

In a matter of minutes, Diamond had managed to untie the knot of her bandage then carefully re-wrap the linen strip in such a way that only one eye was covered. Most of the excess bandage lay in a heap in her lap. Diamond narrowed her good eye at Pippin, trying to focus. Her right eye wasn’t exactly her best one, but it would do. “I want to see, Mr. Pippin. Other than a brandy-induced headache, I feel perfectly fine.”

“I don’t know who is more obstinate--you or me!” Then seeing her lovely brown eye and the resilience Diamond possessed, Pippin relented. “Donnabelle is going to have my hide,” said Pippin, sitting down in Diamond’s rocking chair letting out a long breath. Why was he always so taken with a lass’s eyes?

“I can watch over them, you know,” said Diamond frowning. “I’m not trying to be difficult, Mr. Pippin--I just don’t want to be sent home. I want to do my job.”

“No one is going to send you home,” replied Pippin. “That is, unless your mother demands such. Pim has written a letter to your mother telling her what happened.”

Diamond spoke sadly as she fidgeted with the hem of the quilt, tracing the pretty design of the ruffles with her finger. “We both know what my mother is going to write in her reply.”

Pippin really didn’t know what to say to the sorrowful tween, yet his heart responded with a trace of regret; yes, more than likely Opal North-took would demand that her under-aged daughter be immediately returned to Long Cleeve. And Pippin would truly be disappointed to no longer meet up with his spry young friend every morning--or occasional night--in the Smials’ halls. Thus far, Diamond is the only person to give even a speck of attention to the matter most important to him: his life-changing Journey. Diamond seemed to know exactly what questions to ask and even repeated his answers, as if to commit them to memory. In his innermost thoughts Pippin groaned at the thought of her leaving the Smials. Since when had this sweet lass gotten under his skin? I thought I gave up on lasses a few weeks ago…

“Mr. Pippin?”

Pippin shook himself from his musings. “Yes, Diamond?”

“May I visit the lads after breakfast?”

Pippin cocked an eye at the linen strips in the tween’s lap. “Would it matter if I said no?” he asked half-jokingly.

“Probably not,” Diamond smirked in reply.

After the scrumptious first breakfast for Diamond and third breakfast for the lads (*all* of the lads!), they congregated in Gelly’s room and had a wonderful time playing draughts and dots.

The “reunion” at breakfast for Diamond and Tilby was a tearful one. Over and over Tilby apologized for hurting Miss Diamond, calling her his favourite minder. Diamond kissed the child’s brow, forgiving every apology he uttered. “It was an accident, love,” she said at length, holding his chin in hand. “If you never pick up a pony whip until you’re old enough to drive a wagon, then it was a lesson well learned, right?”

“I can’t agree with that,” Pippin put in, although he was glad for her compassion toward his nephews.

The rest of the morning and early afternoon was uneventful, with the exception of Donnabelle stopping by to clean and examine Diamond’s stitching. The healer determined that one covered vice both would be fine as long as it didn’t cause discomfort to the patient. She prescribed more minced garlic for the lass. Poor Diamond nearly gagged on the strong, aromatic herb.

“I am sorry I cannot allow it to be mixed with food; it tends to lose most of its healing virtues that way,” said Donnabelle. “Please put some of this mixture in your tea, Miss Diamond,” the healer handed a small bottle, continuing with her ministrations, “I want you to have a bit of a nap this afternoon--it will do your eye a vast amount of good.” With that, Donnabelle set the vial on Diamond’s night table then left.

For the rest of the afternoon Pippin caught up on his reading while the lads quietly worked on lessons he had given them earlier after breakfast and games. Diamond continued sewing her curtains. Every now and then she stole a glance at the mixture Donnabelle gave her. She didn’t trust the wee concoction, and she found that she didn’t want to sleep, either. Diamond felt that she had a long enough sleep from yesterday’s incident.

Pippin had difficulties concentrating…then realized he had read this particular passage not once, but several times; his focus broken by the tittering of a few lasses emanating from Diamond’s adjoining door. “What in the name of wonder…” he muttered, rising up from his chair in Pimpernel’s sitting room. Placing a marker between the pages Pippin set the book aside.

When Pippin opened the adjoining door, there were more lasses than he first imagined. Five of them! Pippin knew each of them by name: Viola sat upon the bed with Diamond, Poppy sat in Diamond’s rocking chair, Chica Fairchild--nurse to Everard and Laurel’s children, Daisy Longlocks--cleaning servant to the guest quarters, and last but not least, nineteen-year-old Blossom Mudbanks, the Smials’ newest orphan who began working with Viola the other night.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Pippin greeted the group of lasses, immediately grabbing their attention. They all stopped snickering and stood to their feet out of respect to the Thain’s son. “Unfortunately, I fear, Miss Diamond omitted a bit of information from her visiting companions.” He watched Diamond’s face flush; the vial of medicine still sat where Donnabelle left it. “You see,” he told his audience, “the healer advised her to take a nap this afternoon to rest her injured eye.” The lasses kept quiet while Pippin spoke. “I apologize for the disruption in your fellowship--er, lass-ship--whatever you lasses call these wee gatherings--however, Miss Diamond will be deep in slumber in the very near future, will you not?” He smirked, gazing at the red-faced lass that was mere seconds ago the centre of attention in the group.

“I will leave you lasses for a few minutes to allow for farewells,” Pippin continued, “however, I beg that this room have only one occupant when I return. Thank you, ladies for your kind attention.” He bowed and then left.

Behind the door, Pippin leaned against the wall with his hand covering his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. He could hear Diamond’s friends giving her grief for abusing her own body in such fashion. He knew then that Diamond had chosen her friends wisely.

“You needn’t embarrass me like that,” Diamond said to Pippin when he knocked, re-entering her room. All of her friends had left, wishing her well in the coming days.

“And if I had not, would you be giving your eye the rest it needs?”

Diamond looked away. “I wasn’t tired,” she said.

“Donnabelle gave you this to help you fall asleep,” said Pippin lifting the bottle. He poured it into Diamond’s cold tea. “Drink this,” he said, handing her the teacup.

“It’s cold,” she turned her nose up at it.

“Then I’ll heat it,” he said through gritted teeth. Diamond did not have a hearth in her room, so he poured the tea into a small pot kept inside Pimpernel’s sideboard in her eating area. He placed it on the hook in the hearth where a small fire always burned. It would take a few minutes to warm up so he went back to Diamond’s room to ensure she stayed put.

“Is it true?” she asked as Pippin sat down in the rocking chair.

“Is what true?”

“That a lad won’t consider a lass if her face is marred. You know--if she bears a scar…like me.”

“Where did you hear something like that?” asked Pippin, though he readily knew.

“We lasses…you know--we…talk,” Diamond replied slowly.

“I know you lasses like to talk--I have three older sisters, remember?”

Diamond lowered her eye, gazing at the stitching she sewed into her quilt. “You can’t tell me that lads don’t talk. Besides,” she spoke more solemnly, “I want to know. Just because I don’t want to marry a lad for a long time doesn’t mean that I don’t like to dance with them or go to parties with them.”

The two friends sat in uneasy silence for a while; Pippin felt reluctant to answer such a serious question. Luckily, the time for her elixir-tea to warm had passed. Pippin got up to fetch it, pouring the tea into a clean cup from the sideboard--anticipating the tween whining over a dirty one.

Diamond paused in drinking her tea, “You don’t have to watch me, you know.”

“Yes, I do,” said Pippin unenthusiastically from his chair. “I will sit here in this chair until you have swallowed the last drop. Only after you are snoring the shutters off the windows outside will I leave you to your sweet slumber.”

“I don’t snore,” answered Diamond, taking her time sipping the tea. Pippin kept his eyes upon Diamond as if to make good on his words. Diamond thought to dispel his gaze, “Tell me more about Rivendell--and Ló rien. You said that elves live in those places. You once called them Firstborn; why are they called such?”

Pippin sat up eagerly in his chair; finally something he could answer well enough!

Many were the talks he and Gandalf had while encamped near the Gap of Rohan on the trip home from the Quest. It was Legolas who had piqued Pippin’s interest in the whole matter a few nights previous when he told a small tale about Númenor. Pippin thought much of the tale shed light on the custom of the Standing Silence in Minas Tirith.

One night, when he couldn’t sleep, Pippin cornered Gandalf, asking about the Númenoreans, the Firstborn…and when the other peoples came into being, such as Men, Dwarves, and Hobbits. Gandalf answered each of Pippin’s questions--not crying “mercy” even once. Even Aragorn got into the conversation when he overheard the subject. Pippin indeed learned much about the places and peoples of Middle-earth--and the One who made them all.

“I’ll try to explain it all as I understand it, Diamond, but there is a great deal more to Middle-earth than either of us think. I still marvel at much of what I’m about to tell you.”

The elixir-tea took its toll on the tween about halfway through recollecting the finer points of his experience. Sighing, Pippin got to his feet, taking the cup from her hand he placed it on her nightstand. He pulled the lovely quilt up to Diamond’s chin then turned down the lamp to a dimmer light. “Have a good sleep, Diamond.”

Pippin fought the impulse to kiss her brow as if she were one of his nephews. The realization that a deep kinship had formed between he and Diamond struck deep in Pippin’s heart. When had that happened?

He gazed at the sleeping lass for a long minute before leaving her to her dreams.

TBC

A/N: I wish to thank Pearl Took for her help with the pony crop/whip issue. Thank you, Mentor!

Chapter Sixteen - A Family Meeting

“Oh…my poor feet,” moaned Pimpernel, dipping them into a cool tub of water provided by her mother’s attendant. “Thank you, Poppy.” Pimpernel eased her tired feet fully into the water. “I’m sorry, Pip--I didn’t mean to be gone all day,” she said. “Mother insisted on helping Mrs. Smallburrow weed and hoe her little garden. I couldn’t argue because that is the only other staple--besides mother’s bread baskets--that provides for her and her children. She’s so thin, Pippin; mother keeps asking her to come live at the Smials and help out in the garden, but Mrs. Smallburrow sincerely believes that her late husband would want her to stay at the little cottage.”

“And you sincerely believe that Hilfred would want you to move back to the farm in Whitwell,” replied Pippin. He truly felt for both widows. “I say let her stay at the cottage--that is where her heart lies, Pim,” said Pippin. “Should mother no longer be able to help you with Mrs. Smallburrow,” he smirked, “then I don’t mind helping where I can.” He leaned back into his chair cushions, eyeing his sister. “When do you plan on the big move?”

Pimpernel took out one foot to rub the soreness out. “I was hoping next spring. The farm is so beautiful at that time of year. I’ll need to purchase a milking cow, a pony, some chickens… The list is endless.”

“What about someone who can teach the lads to do all the chores? Surely you don’t intend on doing that all by yourself.”

Pim sighed at the length of her check list. “I didn’t want to ask, but if you’re offering…I gladly accept.”

Pippin smiled, “I’m certain father could spare me for a week or two to help get you started. Gelly is a quick learner, and they all need something to focus on besides mischief as they grow up.”

“Oh,” said Pim, reaching over to her lamp table, “Speaking of mischief…I found this envelope under my door while you and Diamond were in Tuckborough yesterday.” She smiled while Pippin read the name of the sender.

“It’s from Merry!” he shouted, then whispered his excitement again while opening the wax seal of “BB”. At a quarter past six o’clock, Diamond still slept peacefully in her room. Pippin read the contents of the letter, then at length he spoke, “He and Stella are arriving…tomorrow--with Pervinca and Merimas.” He looked at Pimpernel, “When I was at Brandy Hall last month he said that he and Stella would visit for the Midsummer Fair.” Pippin got up from his chair, rushing toward the door. He stopped, quickly addressing his sister, “I’m done being the Minder, aren’t I?”

Pimpernel chuckled, “Yes--and thank you, Pip. See you at supper.”

* * *

The following afternoon, Diamond sat in kitchen helping her friend prepare vegetables for roasting. “I tell you, Viola,” said Diamond, sitting at the table slicing carrots, “I never slept so much in all my life! I know Mrs. Brownfield tried to wake me for supper last night, but all I could do was turn over and go back to sleep.”

Viola rolled her eyes at her friend in a jesting manner, “Sounds just awful t’ me!” Viola took her pile of hollowed mushrooms to the roasting pan then placed them upon it, along with a bit of cheese inside the hollow. Tonight, there would be many more people to feed this evening at supper. Extra cooks were called upon to assist with the additional work. Wanting to visit with her dear albeit busy friend, Diamond rolled up her blouse sleeves and assisted.

“Yes, well I was quite hungry when I woke up this morning,” Diamond continued with her account while popping a bite of carrot into her mouth, “Hungrier than a sow at a slop-feast--and I am still recovering from the effects of starvation forced upon me by Mr. Pippin yesterday.”

Viola laughed at Diamonds mock outrage, “Ye poor darlin’!” She knew Diamond was being humorous about starving when a smile spread across her face. Sitting down next to her friend to keep the conversation between them, Viola gave Diamond a knowing look, saying, “In truth, if Mr. Pippin didn’t care anythin’ about ye, he wouldn’t have chased us off like he did.”

Diamond thought more on it then asked, “You think he indeed cares for me?” Then quickly added, “As a friend, I mean.”

“Friend?” the cook chuckled, then spoke into Diamond’s ear while peeling potatoes. “Lads and lasses don’t stay friends for very long, if ye get my meanin’. Their hearts move on t’ bigger an’ better thins.” Viola watched with amusement as Diamond flushed red all the way to the tips of her pointed ears. “How I see it, I think Mr. Pippin cares for ye more than he’s willin’ t’ admit t’ himself--all us lasses see it.”

“I wonder if that is what’s happening, Viola,” Diamond said thoughtfully. “The other day in Tuckborough, I was actually jealous.” Seeing her friend’s questioning gaze, Diamond explained further, “When Miss Myrtle came up and asked Mr. Pippin if they could dance together at the Fair--I was green with jealousy. I can’t remember ever feeling that way before about him--or any other lad. I kept dreaming that a water puddle lay near to her and hoping that one of the lads would jump in it to splash mud all over her!”

Viola laughed at the notion of the sweet lass’s feathers getting all ruffled over Miss Myrtle. “Ye’re growin’ up, Diamond,” she said smiling. “Gettin’ married at forty-years-old isn’t lookin’ pretty anymore, is it?” Diamond continued slicing the vegetables, saying nothing.

“Please believe me, Viola,” Diamond spoke at length, her brown eyes beseeching, “I only meant to be his friend…now I don’t know what’s happening. You should have seen Mr. Pippin the night he and Sapphira returned from their trip. He looked so wretched…as if his heart had been ripped out then trampled underfoot--and then she was gone.”

“Ye know I have my own Andy an’ all,” Viola put in, “but even my heart went out t’ Mr. Pippin durin’ those days.” Her eyes lit with fire, Viola continued, “I should liked t’ have told that lass a thin or two b’fore she left.”

A hint of a smile played on Diamond’s lips; Viola knew by now that she and “that lass” were sisters. Diamond was not offended, still stinging a bit over Sapphira and Hildebrand’s sudden marriage.

“It’s a quarter past seven, Diamond,” announced Viola. “Ye said Mrs. Brownfield asked ye t’ be in the dinin’ room by half-past.”

Diamond jumped to her feet, untying her apron in the process, “Yes--thank you, Viola!”, then hastened toward the door. Quickly, Diamond turned round again, giving her dear friend a parting hug.

“What’s this for?” asked a surprised Viola.

Diamond’s voice muffled in reply, “Just for being my friend.”

Back in her own room, Diamond ensured Donnabelle had wrapped her new bandage snug; she didn’t want to frighten the children with her monstrosity of a wound should it fall down. She next quickly re-plaited her hair in the back then tied it with a red ribbon to match her grey skirt and pink smock. Diamond frowned; the white bandage simple stood out like a sore thumb. An idea sprung to mind although she could do nothing to bring it about at the moment.

“Diamond, could you please help Hilly with washing up?” Pimpernel was still pinning up her hair. “I’m almost finished and then we can go.”

“Hilly!” Diamond hurriedly called out, hearing the child’s voice in his room on the other side of her adjoining door that was open. Soon she had the lad’s face wiped, curls combed neatly and with very little protesting from the child. Gelly had helped to ready Tilby, then the small group was off to the Thain’s dining room for supper--and not a moment to spare.

“You must meet everyone before we sit down to eat,” said Pimpernel, ushering the young maid into the dining room. “We’ll start with the lads.” Diamond stared anxiously round the roomful of stranger-hobbits, however, her nerves quickly dissipated, seeing Pippin standing off to the side with a small group consisting of his father and two other males--one as tall as Mr. Pippin.

“So this is your new minder that you wrote Pervinca about,” smiled Merimas, “We have heard much about you, Miss Diamond. ’Tis a pleasure to meet you.”

“They were nice things,” Pim whispered into Diamond’s ear.

“Hullo, Miss Diamond,” said Merry while holding his two year old son. “This here is my lad, Kalimas,” he said in introduction. Merry took note of the young lass staring at the marks on his wrist, although he did not cover them up like Pippin. Instead, Merry conveniently shifted the squirming child in his arms, bringing his wrist up and out of sight.

“Come, Diamond-lass,” said Pimpernel, gently prompted the tween round toward the group of ladies standing in a circle. Pim got the distinct feeling that Merry felt uncomfortable under the lass’s scrutiny. “Let’s go meet my sister and sister-in-law before we all sit down to supper.”

Diamond became alarmed as they walked in their direction. “What am I going to do, Mrs. Brownfield? I’ve heard there are two Mrs. Brandybucks!”

Pimpernel laughed, “You’ll see!” As they approached the ladies, Pimpernel held Diamond’s shoulders on either side, then introduced her newest child-minder.

“If it weren’t for your sister…Pip?” Standing next to Pippin, Merry observed how his cousin’s eyes lingered upon the departing dark-haired lass. He looked again to the direction of his cousin’s gaze and then back at his cousin. He’s got it bad this time, Merry said to himself. Merry waived his hand in front of Pippin’s eyes to break the spell. “Pip!”

With effort, Pippin pulled his eyes away from Diamond. “Sorry, Merry--what were you saying?”

Merry sighed, shaking his head. “Honestly Pip, if it weren’t for Pim, I would have absolutely no idea of what is going on in your life. Pervinca gets two letters a week from both her sisters and then if there is news about you, she passes on those bits to me--knowing that you rarely pick up a quill-pen.”

“I did send you a letter about Sapphira,” said Pippin a tad defensively.

“I finally got it last week. Holly had a terrible head cold--I couldn’t leave Stella with a sick child on her hands. I really wanted to comfort you in your time of despair, Pippin.”

“I’ll do better,” Pippin replied sheepishly. “I promise.”

“Why don’t you make more use of Everard?” suggested Merry. “After all, he’s the Thain’s scribe.”

“I often wondered where Pimpernel found the time to write so prolifically!” Merimas put in.

Pippin chuckled. “She writes common news about her lads and then asks Ev to reproduce it a few times. Pim then adds her own personal touch to each letter before sending them off to their respective recipient. She got the idea from watching our father send letters out to the Mayor and Master of Buckland.”

“Lasses!” Merimas smiled. “Can’t live without them.”

“My sister tells us that you’ve had a rather demanding week,” said Pervinca to Diamond after the introductions. “I am sorry about your injury.”

“I, too,” put in Estella holding her baby daughter.

“I’m fine now, Mrs. Brandybuck,” said Diamond, “with thanks to Mr. Pippin for his quick thinking.” She took this opportunity to gaze fondly at her friend standing among the group of male hobbits.

“Please--call me Pervinca,” she answered. Both Pervinca and Estella took note that the tween’s gaze lingered just a tad before turning back round.

“And call me Stella,” said the second speaking Mrs. Brandybuck, giving her cousin a wink. It didn’t escape the future Mistress of the Hall that Pippin had been looking in Diamond’s direction mere moments ago.

“I can’t do that--” said Diamond then was quickly cut off by the first Mrs. Brandybuck.

“You’re going to have to!” laughed Pervinca. “That is, unless you intend to lengthen your addresses to include our given names--and that should take half the day if both Stella and I are speaking to you.”

Diamond felt slightly embarrassed about calling these distinguished ladies by their first names. Seeing the wee child smiling shyly beside her mother’s skirt, Diamond got down on her haunches, eyelevel with the faunt. Children always made Diamond feel comfortable.

“Hullo!” Diamond greeted the little lass. “What is your name?”

Pervinca smiled down at her eldest daughter, “Tell Miss Diamond your name, love.”

“Sweet Pea,” replied the faunt with a finger in her mouth. Diamond thought the diminutive lass looked much like Pervinca; little nose, green eyes, and wispy honey-brown ringlets bound with a green ribbon at the top of her head.

“How old are you?”

The child held up two fingers, “Fooah.”

All the ladies laughed including Diamond. “Hold up two more fingers, dear,” prompted Pervinca, smiling at Sweet Pea.

Pimpernel leaned in toward her younger sister, “I’m not a wagering lass, but my bet is that Diamond will ask to borrow your children before the night is out.”

Diamond heard not a word Pimpernel uttered, yet she pondered all the wee children about--and the long trip between Buckland and the Smials.

“Mrs. Brandy--, I mean, Mistress Pervinca,” Diamond stammered, “or…perhaps I ought to tell my thoughts to Mrs. Brownfield first.” Asking for a private word with Pimpernel, Diamond and her employer stepped off to the side.

“What do you want, Diamond?” asked Pim, yet somehow she had a feeling of what was coming.

“Please forgive me if I am out of place--after your invitation and all,” began Diamond, “but…it seems to me that there is no one to watch over the wee children so that their parents may enjoy a quiet meal after their long journey.”

“What are you getting at Diamond?”

“Well…if you don’t mind,” Diamond answered, “I am offering to mind the wee ones while their weary mums and dads recover from the trip.”

“Diamond, sweetie,” replied Pimpernel, “that is a lovely and selfless offer, but…” Then Pimpernel looked about the room as if for the first time seeing what the tweenager saw. She supposed Pervinca and Merimas appeared the most haggard--they had three small children to mind throughout the entire jaunt.

“Mrs. Brownfield--I am a child-minder,” Diamond pressed the issue. “I may be in your employ, however, I am extending my services to your family.” Diamond saw the torn expression upon Pim’s face. “You and I both know this is the proper thing to do.”

“I know what proper is,” Pim gently chided the tween then her face softened. “Diamond…” she said, “this isn’t what I had in mind. I truly wanted you to meet my family and dine with us. Sapphira only ate with us a few times. I suspect she didn’t tell you that there was an open invitation for you to take your meals with the family, did she?”

Diamond sorrowfully cast her eyes to the mat. “I suppose there wasn’t any time.”

“I hope that you pardon my negligence,” said Pimpernel, then smiled at the lass. “When supper is over, I am bringing you the biggest platter of food that I can gather! And you will break your fast with us in the morning--everyone will be rested by then.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

It was decided that Diamond would only have two babes to watch over during supper: seven-month-old Holly, and four-month-old Primrose. Kalimas and the other children ate regular food and were extremely hungry by now.

“Thank you so much, Diamond,” said Pervinca, giving the lass a quick embrace. “Pim may be bringing you a food tray, but I shall bring you anything you wish to drink!”

“And dessert!” chimed in Estella.

Diamond grinned, “As long as it isn’t brandy or ale, I’ll drink it.”

Pervinca and Estella gave last minute instructions before leaving. “Primrose will probably nap for the most part, but when I return she’ll be ready for another go at a meal,” said Pervinca.

“Holly might want to play for a bit before lying down--and here,” Estella set her carry-bag on the bed. “She’s been dry for a while--there are clean nappies inside. She wouldn’t nurse while we rode in the carriage, but I think after she settles down a bit she, too, will be ready.”

Diamond let out a sigh of relief after the ladies shut the door behind them. “Worry warts!” mutter the tween. “I am a well-trained minder--I have been doing this for over four years.” She turned to the babes lying on her bed. Little Holly screwed up her face for a good cry. Diamond took the baby into her arms, “Look at you wee faerie-lasses! I think it’s time for a story. I know--a princess tale!”

After the meal was over, Pimpernel, Pervinca, and Estella helped make up a food tray for Diamond. Soon, it was piled high with roast chicken, salted pork, mushrooms stuffed with cheese, roasted potatoes, green beans, pickles, and a small loaf of bread.

“That’s too heavy for you,” said Pippin picking up the tray. “I’ll take it to her.”

“I said that I would bring it,” argued Pimpernel, hands on her hips.

“It’s bulging in the middle, Pim,” Pippin said over his shoulder. “You may follow if you wish.”

Pervinca caught Estella’s eye again--who in turn caught her husband’s blue eyes, exchanging a knowing look. Merry would most likely have a talk with Pippin at some point. The ladies followed Pippin to Diamond’s room; afterward, Pippin was to meet with his father and the lads in the common room for an after dinner smoke.

Diamond quickly opened the door when she heard the knocking, as Primrose and Holly lay asleep on her bed. “Mr. Pippin!” Diamond whispered, gaping in surprise.

“I fear my sisters have burdened this poor tray with heaps of scrumptious food. Where shall I put it?”

“On my writing desk is fine,” Diamond spoke softly.

Pippin shook himself from her lovely smile, responding in kind, “As you wish.” He placed the tray upon the desk then turned to leave.

“Thank you, Mr. Pippin,” said Diamond, her eye meeting with his.

Pippin broke his gaze when Pim cleared her throat. “I am sorry, Miss Diamond, I believe a brood of cackling hens have followed me from the dining room.” He watched Diamond smile.

Pimpernel gave her brother a playful nudge. “Well, the rooster needs to fly the coop unless he means to lag about while the hens tend to their chicks.”

Pippin got the message and was out the door. Amid a chorus of “Thank you” from the two younger ladies, Diamond fell to business at her desk. “They did just as you said,” she addressed both Brandybuck lasses, “they fell to sleep at once, although Holly did want to play with my new curtains first. She initially cried, not seeing her mummy about, but then settled down.”

Pervinca and Estella placed a pitcher of fresh water and a very large slice of apple pie next to Diamond’s platter then sat down on the bed to nurse their daughters, who had by now woke from their nap.

“Oh,” Diamond quickly added while forking a mound of the roasted potatoes and carrots, “and I changed both of their nappies.” Diamond smiled, “This is delicious! I’ll have to tell Viola later.”

“I know Viola--how is she doing?” asked Pervinca.

Diamond hid her surprise well; like many other hobbits, Diamond always imagined that the upper class dealt very little with the servants outside of business. “She’s been made full-cook and now works the supper shift with Mrs. Ivy,” answered Diamond between mouthfuls.

“I’ll have to stop by the kitchen to congratulate her,” said Pervinca.

Curious, Diamond asked, “How do you know Viola?”

With a sly grin Pimpernel jumped in, “Just before Merimas began courting Pervinca, she got caught unravelling the sweater cousin Saffron was knitting for a particular lad that she was trying to win over. So Pervinca spent an entire week helping Viola peel potatoes.”

“I also caught her trying to coax Merimas into thinking she injured the upper part of her leg,” said Pervinca, a tinge of fury edged her voice. “Imagine!”

“Well,” Pimpernel answered with a proud grin, “I suppose my little sister won in the end. She’s nursing his daughter.”

Diamond almost choked on her chicken. Pervinca’s jealousy highly resembled that of her own the other day.

“And I didn’t resort to anything sordid,” said Pervinca. “I was a good lass all the way through.”

“Are you all right?” asked Pimpernel, pouring more water into Diamond’s glass.

“Swallowed wrong,” Diamond answered as she cleared her throat. When all was settled she asked, “How did you know that you were in love with Mr. Merimas--or Mr. Brownfield?” She looked at Estella, “Or Mr. Merry?”

“It was gradual for Hilfred and I,” answered Pimpernel. “We hated each other at first, but then it grew into mutual respect, friendship, and then love.”

Diamond listened intently to all the first-hand accounts.

“I got to know Merry through my brother, Fredegar,” said Estella, “from the time we were teens. I should have to say that it was love at first sight, although it was a long time before either of us admitted to our feelings. He finally got up the nerve to invite me to Frodo’s 44^th birthday party. After that, we made every effort to spend as much time together as possible.”

“For me,” said Pervinca, “I worked very hard to get Merimas to see things my way!” When the snickers died down, Pervinca grew serious again, “It was just something that we both worked at. We sometimes had arguments, then later made up. Nevertheless, from the beginning, Merimas and I both knew there was something there…something deep inside our hearts that…we just knew we were meant for each other. Merimas has told me so himself.”

“Oh, fiddlesticks!” Estella exclaimed suddenly. “I left my carry-bag in the dining room and Holly just wet her nappy. Diamond, would you be a good lass and fetch the bag for me?”

Diamond wondered at why she was the chosen lass--still finishing off her pie. She chalked it up to being the youngest…and the minder. Diamond obliged, rising up from her desk she left to get the wanted item.

Estella waited until the lass closed the door before speaking, but Pervinca beat her to it.

“Have you ever seen the way she looks at our brother, Pim?”

“Or the way Pippin looks at her in return!” Estella put in.

“I was trying to avoid a repeat performance,” said Pimpernel, “but yes…I’ve noticed.”

TBC

Chapter Seventeen - Not In Love

Diamond wandered the tunnels in the wee hours of the morning in attempt to make herself weary. Perhaps I ate too much, she said to herself then pushed the idea out of her head. No, what little she didn’t eat, the ladies helped her to finish. As she walked, Diamond came to the conclusion that all the excitement in the air was the culprit. The visitors…the children…the fair.

But something else niggled at her brain. The tween mused on all the earlier accounts of couples falling in love. Inwardly, the lass fervently denied the notion of falling in love with Pippin. I’m a working lass from a small village who has night terrors--and now I have an ugly scar on my face--what would Mr. Pippin want with someone like me? Diamond’s answer didn’t come to her immediately. Not even while she drew near to the door of the Thain’s private parlour, seeing the candlelight from inside spill out onto the decorative stone floor. You’re not in love with Mr. Pippin, but you know exactly where to look for him at one o’clock in the morning, she said inwardly, sighing. This can’t go on, Diamond-lass! All you would do is hinder the likes of Mr. Pippin.

Diamond entered the parlour where she and Pippin would often play draughts whenever sleep eluded them. She smiled, seeing the special game sitting out…then Diamond crinkled her brow. Something was amiss. As she stepped closer it appeared a game had already been played--the winner being the player with the red draughtsmen stacked high on one side of the table. Diamond recalled that she always played the red draughtsmen--who was Pippin’s new opponent? Diamond’s gaze drifted over to a sketching tablet set where the loser sat; a few scattered black game pieces lay near to it. She leaned in closer in order to better view the half-drawn figure of a…what was it? The tween gasped at the voracious creature, detailed in every way from the shoulders up, including wild black hair, bared sharp teeth with flesh dangling from its maw.

“What are you doing?”

Diamond jumped out of her skin, giving a cry of alarm. As she twisted about, she knocked into one of the tall hobbits who stood directly behind her, holding a mug of warm milk in his hands.

“Why did I know this should happen?” asked Pippin, arms held out while milk dripped from his nightcoat. “I suppose I had this coming…”

Diamond held her hand to her bosom trying to catch her breath. “The next time you enter a room--”

“I ought to sneeze, cough, or blow my nose?” asked Pippin derisively.

“It was an accident, cousin,” said Merry, holding his mirth. “Go wash up and I’ll have another mug sent in. I’ll also see about this wee burglar.”

Hands on her hips again, Diamond declared, “Wee? Now see here--I am not a burglar!”

“A wee eavesdropper then,” replied Pippin. Pippin watched in amusement as Diamond reacted just the way he wanted. Her face turned beet red while she opened her mouth to give them a piece of her mind.

Before the lass could utter any rancorous words that she might regret later, Merry interceded. “He’s jesting with you, Miss Diamond. Now hurry up, Pippin--I don’t have all night.”

Merry followed Pippin out of the parlour to speak with a servant, then returned a few minutes later. He took his seat at the table where the sketch lay. Diamond remained standing. Merry looked over to the lass saying, “Why don’t you sit down in Pippin’s chair until he returns?”, then busied himself with setting up the draughtsmen for another go.

Diamond set her eye upon the curious drawing, wondering about the creature visible in the sketch. “What is it?”

“Hmm?”

The tween pointed toward the powerful jaws, “What sort of animal is it?”

Merry hesitated to explain the image. He placed the last few game pieces on the black squares, then brought out his pipe from his small pouch. The same pouch that he almost gave to Saruman. “What has Pippin told you? About our…Journey, I mean.”

Pippin had indeed told Diamond that Merry accompanied him on his travels and so she hoped to get a bit more information from him. However, the tween instantly put two and two together. She deduced Merry had to have seen this creature somewhere in order to draw it in such detail. And Pippin said he had been with his cousin for most of the Journey. No wonder Mr. Pippin had as many--if not more--sleepless nights as she did! Diamond quickly answered Merry so as not to raise suspicion, “He told me about Minas Tirith…Elves…Mr. Legolas and Mr. Gimli…Rivendell and the friends you all met there. Mr. Pippin never spoke of such beasts as this one.”

“As he shouldn’t have,” Merry put in a bit tersely while lighting his pipe. Exactly how much had his cousin told this innocent lass?

Undaunted, Diamond asked, “Were the beasts in the Stone City?”

Merry folded up his sketch tablet, laying it aside. “I don’t wish to speak of it right now.”

Diamond sighed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Merry,” she said quietly. “I think it frightens him, too, but he won’t say anything.”

“Frightens whom?”

“Mr. Pippin,” said Diamond. “Thoughts of foul creatures such as this one. He won’t talk about it. Instead, he retreats to his music room, playing his violin for hours.”

Merry blanched. “You just said he didn’t tell you about them.”

“I…I,” Diamond stammered. Even though she thought she had guessed some of what happened, she sincerely had no way of knowing the truth of the matter. However, Diamond figured that she had probably stepped on a sore spot with Mr. Merry and so apologized. “I was only guessing about the memories,” she said somewhat truthfully.

Diamond thought for a moment then asked further, “Is that what your drawings do for you, Mr. Merry? Help you to escape the memories?”

Merry was not about to answer the lass’s inquisition as he regarded his sketches as very personal--and right now, Diamond was barely an acquaintance. Taking a deep breath to relax and unwind, Merry let the matter rest. Diamond couldn’t have known, he reasoned to himself.

Diamond did not press the issue, but returned to the previous conversation about music. “Did you know Mr. Pippin composes his own music?”

“Yes, I know he does,” said Merry. Having recovered his wits, a faint smile appeared on his lips, “How do you know about Pippin’s music room? He is very close about it.”

“I…I listened one day,” she replied, quickly adding, “but I didn’t eavesdrop. I was sad…and I could hear the music in the hallway…it was so beautiful.”

“Music touches a multitude of wounds, don’t you agree?” Merry said casually, absently biting the mouthpiece of his pipe.

“I believe so…,” Diamond said thoughtfully. “It soothes--much like a balm does. I easily get lost in a far away meadow when Mr. Pippin plays his violin. I mean,” Diamond quickly added, “ with most any violin music.”

In spite of being startled with her inquiries, Merry was becoming a bit fond of this lass. He kindly smiled, “I think you were correct the first time. I could sit and listen to my cousin’s music for hours on end--and I have.”

“Do you play the violin, Mr. Merry?”

“No, though my uncle taught me to play the flute when I was a lad. Other than the flute, I am afraid that is about as far as my musical talent goes.”

“But you draw beautifully--like Mr. Pippin playing his violin,” said Diamond. “I’ll wager folks hire you regularly to make a portrait.”

Merry’s eyes twinkled at the mention of “wager”. “Some hobbits do, but not many are as appreciative of my skills as you are--and I do humbly thank you.” He cocked an eye toward the tweenager. “I don’t suppose living with Pimpernel has influenced your view of wagering.”

“Well, Mr. Merry, I don’t believe children ought to go round wagering, but I’m a grown up.”

“Please leave off the mister title--call me Merry,” he said.

“I can’t do that, Mr. Merry, it isn’t--”

“Proper?” Merry blew out a plume of smoke, “Tell me, lass, are you by any means related to Sam Gamgee?”

Diamond frowned, “No…I don’t think so, though I’ve heard of him--and he would be right. Besides, I was going to say ‘appropriate’.”

“Same thing,” Merry said flatly.

“Not necessarily,” countered Diamond.

Merry laughed, “You are a stubborn lass!”

“Didn’t I warn you?” said Pippin, stepping back inside the parlour wearing a fresh nightshirt and nightcoat.

“No, I believe you failed in that area,” replied Merry. Without waiting for Pippin to sit down he moved his red draughtsman forward.

“Good move, cousin,” said Pippin, then made his counter-move.

Growing restless again, Diamond stood to her feet, offering Pippin his own chair back. “I think I shall try sleeping again--although the excitement of the Fair is making it harder to find slumber these days.”

“I’ll walk you to your room,” said Pippin, once again rising from his chair.

Merry watched with amusement as Pippin nearly tripped over his own feet to assist the young lass. “Careful, Pip--don’t injure yourself.” Merry had to contain himself to keep from laughing when Pippin shot him a look of contempt.

Five minutes later Pippin returned to the parlour, less one Diamond. “Did you tuck her in?” Merry asked when Pippin entered the room.

“I did no such thing, Meriadoc!”

“You will in due time.”

Pippin didn’t know if he liked the direction this conversation was going. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that in due time, you will be tucking her into bed.”

“You’re not being funny,” said Pippin picking up the draughts game where they left off. “Your move.”

Merry moved a draughtsman from his second rank, blocking Pippin’s jump. “I am not trying to be funny. I’m being very serious.”

Pippin looked at his life-long friend; not a gleam in his cousin’s eye, nor a hint of a smile. “Your guess is very wrong.”

“Is it really?” asked Merry. “You find every excuse to take things to her, to be in the same room with her. For goodness sake, you just walked her thirty feet to her door.”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Insinuating? Its obvious to everyone else except you.”

Pippin leaned back into his chair with a resigned sigh. “She’s different, Merry,” he finally admitted. “She’s not like her sister at all. She leaves Posey behind in pony dust. Likewise, no other lass I‘ve known is like Diamond.”

“How much have you told her about the Quest?” asked Merry.

“Minas Tirith, Frodo…Rivendell, the Fellowship and the High King--things that won’t give her nightmares.”

“Uruk-hai? Nazgú l?”

Pippin shook his head in disbelief, “None of those, Merry. But if I were to tell her…I have a feeling that she wouldn’t run away. I don’t sense that she would laugh at the idea of a grown hobbit having a nightmare, either. Diamond is…different.”

“In what way?” Merry looked at his dear friend. “You said that about Sapphira, too. Is it her hair, her smile, or her the way she walks?”

Pippin replied with all seriousness, “Nothing on the outside, Merry. She’s beautiful, yes…but even more than that, she’s is genuinely interested in me--in my journey--not in any title I might bear later. She doesn’t judge me or mutter that I’m cracked when she thinks I’m not listening. She actually remembers the names of all our friends away South, people that she’s never met. That alone tells me that she’s listening, not just humouring a daft hobbit. Diamond is different, Merry…she’s…”

“Special?” Merry helped his younger cousin. “I spent a bit of time with you and Sapphira when you arrived at Brandy Hall last month and yet truly could not say that I knew her any better when she left. For the ten minutes you were gone cleaning up and changing into a fresh nightshirt, all we did was talk. I can honestly say that I know Diamond so much more than I or Stella ever knew Sapphira.

“I was indeed startled with discovering how much Diamond knew about the Quest; I worried that you had gone too far and told her everything.” Merry laughed softly, “She wanted to know everything--reminding me of a certain Took not too long ago.

“But in truth, I like Diamond much better. She is social, forthright, aware of others’ needs and wants besides her own…the sort of lass you will need by your side while serving the Tooks and the Shire as Thain. Just don’t wait too long to let her know how you feel.”

* * *

At breakfast, Pippin walked toward his usual seat next to his father. As he pulled out the chair to sit down he heard someone whisper his name. Looking round the table he spied Pimpernel giving a slight shake of her head.

Paladin looked up at his son, “Pippin, I hope you don’t mind--but I was hoping to catch up on more news of Buckland from Merry before the Fair takes him and Stella away.”

Just as Paladin finished speaking, Merry strode up behind Pippin with Kali in his arms. He smiled a bit nervously at his younger cousin, “Sorry, Pip,” then slid the chair out from Pippin’s grasp.

Pippin watched his cousin deliberately take the chair from him then sit down, placing the baby in his lap. Pippin leaned down in between the two hobbits who had expressions of uneasy guilt, whispering, “You two are plotting something, aren’t you?”

Merry gave a shamefaced chuckle, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” said Pippin in a flat tone, straightening up. He then walked round to the only available seat--right next to Miss Diamond North-took. He noticed his sisters avoiding his glare. Pippin took the seat to Diamond’s left, glowering at all the lasses--including his sister-in-law (that’s how the siblings thought of her, anyway), conveniently deep in conversation with each other.

“Good morning, Miss Diamond,” Pippin greeted the tween beside him as he sat down. “It appears we’ll be breakfast companions for this meal.”

As soon as Paladin gave the word, platters began to be passed from one end of the table to the other.

“So it seems,” Diamond commented, turning at an odd angle so that she could better see the speaker. She next took the platter Pervinca passed to her, scooping a small heap of scrambled eggs onto her plate and then offered it to Pippin. “Who won?”

“Beg your pardon?” said Pippin, taking the offered plate.

“The draughts game--who won?” asked Diamond, now taking a few strips of bacon.

“Oh…I must confess that Merry was the overall victor,” Pippin chuckled. “There is much on my mind of late--over the Fair.” He hastily added the last part. “Are you looking forward to it?”

“I am,” replied Diamond. “But I believe the dance will prove the most interesting.”

“Why is that?”

“All those lads who asked me for a dance will probably now fear me stepping all over their toes--now that one of my eyes is covered up.”

“They will have nothing to worry about,” Pippin reassured her.

The rest of the meal was quiet while the hobbits ate. At one point, Pervinca turned to ask Diamond a question. Diamond turned to the young mother in order to give Pervinca her undivided attention.

“How is your sister faring these days?” Pervinca asked in a low voice, so as not to attract Pippin’s interest. She remembered the lass with light-brown hair and the memorable night at the party.

Reminded of her dear sister’s abrupt marriage, Diamond thought to put off answering Pervinca. She thought of the letter that sill lay unopened upon her nightstand. Pondering what to say to Mistress Pervinca, Diamond groped with her left hand toward her glass of milk, which was just out of her sight.

Suddenly Pippin gasped, “Oh, no!”

“Diamond!” Pervinca cautioned the lass, pointing behind her.

Diamond turned round in her seat; indeed, she had grabbed her own glass of milk, but in the process she had knocked over Pippin’s. Diamond used her own napkin to wipe at the mess. Without warning, Pippin stood up so as to let the milk in his lap drip to the floor. In doing so, his arm bumped into her bandaged eye.

Now Diamond gasped.

Instantly, Pippin began apologizing profusely to Diamond.

Diamond clutched at her wound then leaned back into her chair. Tears ran down her cheeks as the room went silent, embarrassment settling in. Finally, Pimpernel rose from her chair to aid the weeping tween out of the dining room.

Pippin watched helplessly as his sister escorted the young tween out of the room.

“I’m sorry, Diamond,” said Pim, having confessed her sister Pervinca, Estella, and herself conspiring to sit her with Pippin at breakfast. “I suppose we ought to just mind our own business…but…”

“I understand, Mrs. Brownfield,” said Diamond. She lay on her bed with a towel dipped in ice water upon her left eye. “He’s your brother and you love him. Besides, I knew you and Mistress Pervinca and Mistress Estella were scheming the whole time. When Mistress Estella asked me to fetch her bag yesterday, after I left my room, I realized that it was already with her. She brought it when she gave me Holly to mind.”

Pimpernel smiled at Diamond’s cunning. “So you brought Pervinca’s bag instead. How clever of you!”

“Well, I didn’t want you to know that I figured it out,” answered Diamond.

At that point, Donnabelle appeared inside the adjoining doorway from inside Pimpernel’s apartment wiping her hands with a clean towel. “Let me have another look at your wound, Diamond.” The healer gently took off the cold towel then leaned in for a closer look. “It’s mending nicely, however, due to your recent mishap it is a bit red and swollen. Fortunately, I don’t see bleeding anywhere. You will live,” she added the last with a smile. “It will be tender for a few days, but the healing should proceed as normal. I suggest that you continue the herbal mixture I gave you at the start--just for a couple days to ensure this wee incident doesn’t interrupt the progress.

Diamond made a face at eating the minced garlic. “Mistress Donnabelle, I already smell like an herb garden. No lad will want to stand next to me tomorrow, let alone dance with me, while my breath smells dreadful.”

Donnabelle smiled at the lass. “It’s just to be safe, dear.”

“I’ll wrap up the wound, Donna,” offered Pimpernel.

“Thank you--I do need to see to my young niece, Thistle. She’s had nasty head cold this week.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Pim. “Please give my regards to Laurel.”

As Donnabelle left, Pippin peered through the door. “I wanted to see how you’re getting on,” he said sheepishly to Diamond. “I am terribly sorry about injuring you.”

Pimpernel repeated Donnabelle’s earlier assessment, “Diamond will be sore for a couple days, but she’ll be fine. She’s not altogether happy about having to ingest more of the minced garlic.”

“I will reek of garlic at the dance tomorrow night,” Diamond said with a sigh.

Pippin stood at the foot of the bed observing the displeased lass. “I wish there was something I could do.”

“There is,” said Pim, giving her brother a friendly pat. “You should go to father’s study and tend to Fair business. Ev has already stopped by and asked for you--you’re expected at a meeting this morning.”

“Yes, today will indeed be very busy,” said Pippin, then smiled at Diamond. “I will stop in later to see you.” When he left, Pippin could be heard walking down the hallway whistling a joyful tune.

Pimpernel sat close to Diamond on the bed as she re-wrapped the bandages over the stitches. “Let me know if I’ve got it too tight,” she said. Diamond said nothing.

“Diamond,” Pimpernel began, “tell me the true reason why you’re so troubled. You didn’t complain overly much about eating garlic before now.”

“Simple,” answered Diamond, “the lads won’t dance with me.”

Pim tied off the ends neatly before continuing. “Come now--you so cleverly deduced the conspiracy between my sister, sister-in-law, and I. Now allow me to do the same for you.” Pimpernel went on when she knew she had Diamond’s attention. “Your reason has something to do with Pippin, doesn’t it?” Diamond meekly shrugged her shoulders. Pim asked, “What are you afraid of, Diamond?”

“I’m not afraid,” replied the young maiden. “It’s just…well, if I dance with other lads then Pippin will be compelled to dance with Miss Myrtle and lasses like her. She’s bonny…and…” Diamond looked away, unable to think of any other “nice” adjective for her rival.

“No scars?” prompted Pim. “She doesn't have breath smelling of garlic? Diamond, Myrtle is no better than you are. She’s just like many other lasses in the Shire between your age and hers trying their best to ensnare my brother. The problem lies in that some who think they are worthy of his heart, really are not. And those who are,” said Pim, taking the tween’s chin in her hand, “do not realize it.” She stood up, “I must look in on my lads for a few minutes, but please think about what I’ve said.”

TBC

Chapter Eighteen - A Beautiful Thing

Crowds of hobbits had already accumulated and gathered under the large pavilions upon the Tookland Fairground. The Thain and his entourage, consisting of his own black and red carriage and two plain black carriages, travelled in a single line up the lane to where the guest stables were set up. The sun shined her bright, golden rays upon the Green Hills, giving promise that the Fair would go on today unhindered by gloomy weather.

Tents with brightly coloured banners flicking high in the early summer breeze dotted the field while one enormous pavilion was set to the back, decorated with streamers of every colour; this is where the legendary dance took place every midsummer.

The Thain had his own private tent set up for taking a reprieve between contests and various shows throughout the day. Part of the Thain’s and the Mistress’s “duty” was to preside at some, but not all of the events, handing out ribbons of honour to various winners. Once disembarked from the carriages, Paladin’s entire family made their way up toward his special tent to gather and plan their day.

Pearl and her family had arrived at the Smials just after second breakfast, having got a late start from the Waymeet Inn. “Your timing is flawless, dear Pearl,” teased Pippin, taking his seat at the table. “You and Will always manage to arrive just before a meal is served.”

“And the same can be said of you, dear brother,” she replied likewise, pinching at his leg. “Always prompt to the minute at my breakfast table in Needlehole--after staying the night at the Rushlight Inn.”

“Their eggs and bacon are not nearly as delicious as yours, Pearl,” said Pippin. “And their beds are lumpier.”

“Oh, so now I am Needlehole’s bed and breakfast?” she quipped. Pearl understood Pippin’s statement was said in jest; however, she knew that her little brother meant every word of the compliment. She responded by giving him a loving hug, “But I am always happy to see you--whether at breakfast, luncheon, or tea!”

Pervinca rose up from the table, “Is everyone ready?” The rest of the lasses followed suit.

Pippin turned round at one point to see his parents also rise from their chair as if to leave. “Someone ought to go with father and mother to keep an eye out for them,” he said.

“We all plan to spend time with mother and father at different times,” answered Pimpernel. “I think they’re going to the Doll Show and then the needlework tent where mother is to award the place winners their ribbons. After that, father mentioned to me that he wants to see the ponies at the stables. Diamond is going with them.” She secretly wondered what the young lass would do at the observing ponies up close.

“I suppose I should take this opportunity to shadow father,” said Pippin, still gawking after the departing lass.

Pearl chuckled, “I thought you detested doll shows, Pip. I remember all the fuss you used to make when you were a young lad.”

“I--I…,” Pippin stammered. “Dolls are all right, I suppose, as long as they stay in a lass’s room.”

“What about sewing baskets and knitting needles?” said Pervinca with a wry smile. “Or is there something you ought to be telling us, little brother?” Estella covered her mouth, having a good laugh.

“I have nothing to tell,” said Pippin, glaring at his sisters. “I’m going to spend time with father.”

“Very well, Pippin, go on,” said Pearl, very unconvinced; something wasn’t quite right. However, she was not yet made aware of the privileged information that her sisters already knew about their baby brother.

“Don’t forget the special supper tonight, Pip,” Pimpernel called after him as he left.

“We’re not plotting again, are we?” asked Estella.

“No--well, not towards Pippin this time,” Pim whispered, “Gelly’s birthday is tomorrow, but mother, father, and I decided to give him a birthday cake today. He’ll be so surprised.”

“Aww,” said Pearl while hugging her younger sister, “your first teen! Wait until you have three of them under your roof!”

“Pippin!” Paladin was quite surprised to see his son strolling beside him as they walked toward the tent where the doll show would soon begin. “I thought you were going with the lads to watch the shepherds shear the sheep.”

“I figured this would be the perfect time to shadow you, Father,” replied Pippin, indeed hiding the real reason he wanted to join them. “Handing out awards and such…my cup of tea,” he said with a smile.

“Are you certain you want to suffer through this?” asked Eglantine. “I remember all the grumbling--”

Pippin winced, “I was a child then, Mother. I’m a grown hobbit now and am able to…endure such things.”

“Oh! Look at her face!” exclaimed Diamond, sighting the first doll set up on the display table. “She’s so beautiful! Her eyes and nose are detailed in every way. I’ve never seen such--and look at her lovely dress! Saph--, I mean, my sister and I used to sew all of our dolls’ dresses when we were children.”

“Do you like to sew?” asked Eglantine, completely enjoying the lass’s excitement.

“Oh, yes, Mistress Took,” Diamond answered politely. “I sewed the curtains in my room and added the ruffles to the quilt myself.”

“I have not had the chance to see your room, lass…” Eglantine commented to Diamond as they walked arm in arm toward the next table--followed closely behind by Pippin.

Paladin trailed the threesome, shaking his head. Shadowing, he said? Paladin mused on his son while smiling, remembering his days courting the beautiful, Miss Tina Banks. Shadowing whom? It certainly isn’t me!”

After Eglantine passed out the red, blue, and yellow ribbons to the winners, she paused to congratulate each one. Pippin, Diamond, and Paladin stood off to the side applauding the winners like all the other hobbits. Diamond leaned back to allow someone to pass by, bumping against a table full of dolls. Most just quavered a little, but the one closest to her nearly toppled; saved by Paladin at the last moment. Young Diamond suddenly became nervous and fidgety, worried that with her blindside she’d surely knock something over and break it. Pippin noticed, so he whispered into his father’s ear, Paladin nodded.

“Come on,” he said, gently pointing Diamond toward the doorway, “let’s go outside and get some air.”

When Eglantine and Paladin finally stepped outside the tent, there stood Diamond with a huge smile on her face--and holding the doll she loved so much.

Pippin stood with his hands in his pockets and shrugged, “It was for sale.”

Going on to the tent displaying every kind of needlework imaginable to a hobbit-lass, Diamond kept a firm hold on her new bauble. “I’m going to name her…Peregrina!” she teased.

“If you do, I’ll disown her!” Pippin laughed. “Now remember--you must play a hundred games of draughts with me.”

“Pippin!” Eglantine reproved her son.

“That was the only way she’d let me purchase it for her,” he said in his own defence.

Walking up ahead of the young couple, Paladin smiled. He had a feeling that his son was in love again…but in a different way. Not like the lasses before; much deeper this time. Paladin tenderly took his Tina’s hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze…she squeezed back.

After the handing out the ribbons to those most skilled with needles of all sorts, the four hobbits were ready to eat lunch. “Rewarding is hungry business,” Paladin told his son.

“Father, with you everything is hungry business,” Pippin quipped in return. They all entered the pavilion set up for Fair goers to sit down and enjoy a meal.

The serving lad came by to pour their tea before setting out the platters of food.

“Hullo, Bart,” said Diamond, recognizing the lad. “I thought you were free from your duties today? Didn’t you ask me for a dance?”

“I…I was needed it seems,” Bart replied nervously, then quickly looked away. “I’ll be workin’ all day an’ night, so I won’t be able t’ dance with ye.”

Pippin said nothing aloud, however, a few choice names for Bart--other than his given name--flitted round inside Pippin’s head. Pippin clearly recalled that Bart volunteered to work both shifts.

“Perhaps another time?” Diamond asked.

“Per’aps,” answered Bart before serving their luncheon.

After that, the foursome ate their meal quietly. Paladin wasn’t too excited about Bart’s backing out of a dance, either. At length, Paladin pushed back from the table, patting his stomach. “Not like your braised beef, my love,” he leaned over giving his Tina a peck on the cheek, “but it was satisfying.”

Eglantine smirked, “I suppose you want to look at the work ponies before going on to meet the grandchildren at the games.”

“Ahhh,” said Paladin, rising from his chair, “the beauty of being married for over fifty-three years! She knows me through and through.” Both Pippin and Diamond laughed at the jest.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Pippin asked Diamond once his parents had left. Her food had barely been touched.

“Everything tastes like garlic,” Diamond answered while making a sour face. She smiled when Pippin chuckled.

“It’s only for today, isn’t it?” he asked.

“If it wasn’t before, it is now,” Diamond replied. “I figure if it was going to fester it would have done so by now.”

“Not always,” said Pippin without forethought, “I’ve seen far too many soldiers die after the batt--” He froze mid-sentence, then looked up at Diamond. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” He set aside his pie to take her interest elsewhere. “I know--let’s go look at the work ponies with my parents. My father is ever the farmer!”

Diamond became worried at this sudden turn in activity. Ponies…? She stiffly got up, allowing Pippin to guide her out of the pavilion.

“What’s wrong, Diamond?” Pippin noticed her concern.

Diamond tried to form words as they both drew near to the paddock, but she found she couldn’t utter them. Fear welled up inside, watching a particular stallion caper inside his stall. Diamond gulped nervously. What to do?

“Diamond?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Pippin,” she managed to whisper, hugging her doll tightly.

“No, you’re not--you’re shaking like a leaf,” Pippin answered. “What’s wrong?” To Pippin, the tweenager looked like a caged animal ready to spring. He’d seen this fear before; on the faces of Men who chose not to fight at the Black Gate, but instead marched to Cair Andros to retake it as a last defence. “Stay right here, Diamond,” said Pippin, speaking her name to keep her focused on him. “I am going to tell my mother that we’re going on to the children’s games and then I’ll be right back. Stay here,” he firmly repeated the last.

Pippin kept glancing over his shoulder to ensure the lass didn’t run off, however, once round his father, brothers-in-law, and Merry--who had already been standing about watching the ponies, he found it more difficult than he anticipated to interrupt their eager exchanges. Pippin was about to give up when he turned round to check on Diamond…but she was gone.

“Who are you looking for, Pip?” asked Merry.

“Diamond--she’s disappeared!”

“I didn’t know that she was with you,” said his cousin.

“I told her to stay there,” said a very confused Pippin. “I wonder if…” Pippin patted Merry’s shoulder, “Tell my mother and father that I’ll meet up with them shortly.” Then off he walked in search of the tween.

Pippin sat glumly inside the Thain’s tent; he had searched high and low for Diamond, yet did not find her anywhere. Where could she be? Certainly, she should have come straight back here. Pippin thought perhaps what he said about dying soldiers had upset her, and so he sat round the corner in a private section of the tent meant for his sister and cousin to nurse their infant daughters. Fortunately, neither of the young mothers was present. Pippin thought that Diamond wouldn’t come inside if she saw him openly sitting there waiting for her.

Soon, he heard someone enter through the flap; Pippin peeked round the corner to make sure it wasn’t Pervinca or Estella. He heard sniffling, and then saw Diamond sit down at the table with her head resting atop her arms.

“I looked everywhere for you,” Pippin spoke softly from his hiding place.

“I’m sorry,” Diamond sniffed, but said nothing else.

“Were you upset at what I said? Are you angry with me?” he asked. Diamond merely shook her head.

Pippin stepped closer. “What’s the matter?” He finally sat down beside her at the table, letting her weep for a bit. Pippin wanted to put his arm round her shoulder, but thought perhaps not yet. “Please talk to me,” he said, sidling close to her. He wanted Diamond to know that he was there to listen to her, just as she often listened to him.

“I…” Diamond sniffled, “I don’t have anyone to dance with.”

Pippin blinked in surprise. “Isn’t Rolo here? What about Togo? We already know about Bart.”

Diamond shook her head. “I haven’t seen Rolo at all today, and neither has Viola. I saw her and Andy on my way here,” Diamond began to open up. She took the pocket-handkerchief that Pippin offered her, wiping her nose and eye. “My bandage is wet,” she commented, touching her left eye.

“We can go to the healer’s tent and get you another,” soothed Pippin. “Now tell me more about these lads.”

“There isn’t much else to tell,” said the lass. “I ran off because…,” she sighed, “because I’m frightened of ponies. I can’t stand being round any of them unless they’re tethered to something.” Diamond explained further how her fear tied in with her father’s death.

“Now I’m the humiliated one,” responded Pippin, “I should have known that wee bit of information. I always try to make an effort to get to know the different peculiarities of the staff at the Smials, and you should not have been an exception. I knew about your father because Saph…Sapphira told me of him. I am terribly sorry, Diamond.”

“That isn’t your fault,” she said, still sniffling. “But, after I left the paddock, I saw Nick--he was the lad--”

“I remember Nick,” said Pippin, wanting to hear the rest of the story.

“Well…Nick said that he brought another lass with him, and that he couldn’t dance with me tonight.”

“Did Nick have a lass on his arm?”

“No,” answered Diamond.

Pippin tried another approach, “Was there a group of lasses nearby when Nick spoke to you?” Diamond shook her head sadly.

“Then just before I ran into Viola, Togo stopped me,” Diamond started to go on but was cut off by Pippin.

“Let me guess--he couldn’t dance with you, neither, am I right?”

Diamond wiped her tearful eyes. “He…,” she paused to swallow the hard lump in her throat, “he said that he hurt his foot this morning. I’m not stupid, Mr. Pippin--it’s because of my scar.”

Pippin watched sorrowfully as a tear fell from under her wet bandage. He got up from his seat, turning Diamond to face him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, feeling Pippin fumble with the knot on her bandage.

“Your bandage is indeed wet,” he answered unbinding her wound. “There is something I want to do.”

Diamond had not one clue as what the lad wanted, but played along. “What is that?”

Pippin laid aside the dampened linen strips, then peered deep into Diamond’s soft, brown eyes--both of them. The wound was still a bit irritated from their run-in this morning at breakfast, but was truly healing very nicely. “Diamond, would you dance with me tonight?”

Diamond’s jaw dropped. “Dance--with you?”

Pippin tried to not smile at her surprise, “I’m really not a bad dancer, you know.”

His jest escaped her. “But what about Miss Myrtle? What about all the other lasses who…who are here at the Fair hoping just to dance with you?”

“Diamond,” Pippin sighed, kneeling before the lass. He took both of her hands in his, “I don’t care about Myrtle, and I don’t care about all those other lasses. Well…not the way I care about you. When I look at Myrtle or any other lass, I don’t see Myrtle--and I don’t see whoever-the-lass-may-be. All I see, no matter where I turn, is you, Diamond. I have eyes for no one else--didn’t you know that?”

Astounded, Diamond shook her head then answered, “Yes.”

"It's true," Pippin smiled warmly.  “Scar and all--I think there is something very special about you, and I should like get to know you much better than I do now.”

“Me, too,” Diamond sniffled, but these were tears of joy. “I mean, get to know you, too.”

Pippin couldn’t help but smile. “You are a beautiful lass, Diamond North-took, inside and out. And no matter what happens, don’t you ever forget that.”

TBC

We're not done--there is certainly more to come! :-)

Chapter Nineteen - Shall We Dance?

Still alone inside the tent, Diamond and Pippin sat beside one another at the table; Peregrina sat with her handsomely carved face on the other side of Diamond. Once Pippin made known his feelings to Diamond, he decided that he wanted to know exactly how she felt about him. “Well?”

Diamond looked at him with a twinkle in her dark brown eyes. “Well, what?”

Pippin conjured up an injured expression, “I told you what was on my heart--isn’t there something on yours as well?”

Diamond gazed into his shining green eyes…his dark eyelashes. She smiled, taking one of his large hands, enfolding it between her small ones. “The night my family and I arrived at Great Smials, I saw you. I could see that you were hurt, angry, and your heart lay on the floor in pieces. I want to say…that I actually felt your pain, though I cannot say for certain because I have never sensed anything of the sort before in all my life. Yet, from that moment on, all I ever wanted was to be your friend, to help you through the anguish and help you move on.

“However, since our first game of draughts…I haven’t been able to think of anyone else. I found myself purposely getting up in the wee hours of the morning hoping to see you and the special game Mr. Beregond gave you all set up in the sitting room and ready for a go.” Diamond blushed, “I suppose…somewhere along the way…I went beyond friendship…and well…I want us to be more than friends.”

Pippin gave Diamond a loving kiss to her hand. “I should like us to more than friends, too. I must admit, too, that there were many nights that I sat in the parlour waiting for you. I don’t know if it was the way you seemed to genuinely listen to me, or the way you closed your eyes, letting my music take you to places you’ve never been. But somehow…you’ve managed to touch my heart, Miss Diamond North-took, and it’s been a long time since any lass has done that.” He placed his free hand over hers and tenderly squeezed it.

Diamond smiled sweetly. “And all this time, Mr. Pippin, I thought you just liked the way I spilled milk all over you!” Pippin smiled then they both burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” asked Pervinca, entering the tent pushing a pram and holding little Sweet Pea’s hand in hers. “Did I miss a joke?” The cry of baby Primrose rose to a fevered pitch as Pervinca pushed the pram toward the secluded corner of the tent.

“No,” answered Pippin, “but you did miss a lot.” He gave her a mysterious smile.

“I got go, Mama!” shouted Sweet Pea.

Pervinca was out of breath as she tried directing her efforts to both children. “Diamond, could you please help her to the privy? Merimas took Brody and Hilly, but I didn’t want her to…”

“Of course, Mistress Pervinca,” said Diamond, then quickly got up to tend to the wee lass, taking her out of the tent toward the further end of the Fairgrounds.

“What happened to her bandage?” Pervinca casually asked from around the corner. “I noticed she wasn’t wearing it.”

“It got a little bit damp.”

“Damp?” Pervinca thought that was odd. “Was she crying?”

“She was sad,” Pippin answered evasively.

“Something is up,” said Pervinca, “You’re not telling me a whole lot.”

“Hullo, Pip!” said Merimas, entering the tent with his son Brody and Hilly. “I thought you were going to meet up with your parents at the games?”

“Diamond ran off and I had to go find her,” said Pippin, glad for the diversion. “We ended up having a long talk.”

“About what?” asked Pervinca from behind the curtain.

Pippin could clearly hear in his sister’s voice from where he sat at the family table that she was grinning from ear to ear. “About nothing,” he responded just to tease her.

“You always were a bad liar!” she said. “Did you tell her about…you know?”

Merimas rolled his eyes, “Vinca, love, let the poor hobbit be!”

“I’ll let him be,” yelled Pervinca, from behind the partition, “when he tells me that he told Diamond how he feels about her.” The lads could hear Pervinca pacing impatiently behind the curtain. Pippin knew she was dying to hear everything; he held his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “Well?” he heard her ask again, “Did you tell her?”

Pippin smiled, “I did.” He laughed outright when he heard his sister’s overjoyed shout.

“And?” she asked further.

“And…from what she told me, she feels the same way,” Pippin said simply. “She’s never had a lad-friend before so I figure we’ll start things out slowly, let it progress naturally.”

“That means no meddling,my dear,” Merimas put in.

“My feet are killing me!” announced Merry, holding the flap open for Holly’s pram. “Oh, and look who we found wandering round outside without her bandages on,” he said in a tattletale manner. Merry continued to hold onto the flap while Diamond followed Estella inside the tent holding onto Sweet Pea’s hand. Curious, and ever the healer, Merimas got up to examine Diamond’s uncovered wound.

“I was going to take her to the healer’s tent until Miss Nosy Brandybuck came along,” Pippin said jokingly.

Estella’s eyes twinkled, “I beg to differ, Mr. Peregrin Took! I’m not always nosy.”

Pippin laughed, “I meant my sister!”

Hilly came up to his uncle Pippin, tugging on his shirtsleeve. “What is the time, Uncle?”

“Time for all six-year-old hobbit lads to take a nap,” said Pippin, tousling Hilly’s curls.

“Noooo!” said the anxious child. “Mummy said that when the big hand is on the three she would meet me at the rope-jumping field. And when it’s on the four, the jumping starts. I want to win a prize, Uncle Pippin.”

Pippin sighed. “You still mean to do this, don’t you?”

Hilly frowned. “I do--because…because…”

“Because you’re a determined lad,” said Pippin, taking out his pocket watch then brought up the wee lad onto his lap. “The big hand is on the two right now, so we ought to hurry.” He kissed Hilly’s cheek then set him down. “And I’m coming to watch, all right?”

“You are?” smiled Hilly.

Pippin tweaked the child’s nose, “Of course I would. I wouldn’t miss your rope skipping for all the toffee apples the Fair had to offer.” He winked at Diamond. “Come, Diamond, we’re going watch Hilly skip rope.”

Merimas halted his inspection of Diamond’s eye. “If you can’t get to the healer’s tent directly after the rope jumping then come find me,” he said. “It really ought to be cleaned prior to applying another bandage. A healer always keeps his or her bag near at hand, and I brought some bandages with me that would work well enough until we get back to the Smials.”

Merry gaped at the two young hobbits leaving the tent in haste with a young child in tow. “Were they…?” Merry pointed toward the door-flap. A huge smile spread across his face, “They were holding hands, weren’t they?”

The rest of the afternoon rolled by quickly; Hilly moped after not placing high enough for one of the green ribbons, thereafter Pippin promptly escorted Diamond to the healer’s tent for a new bandage and then they met up with Paladin, Eglantine and the rest of the family at the Ring-Toss.

After watching the children play a few of the games, they were off to have supper in the Thain’s private tent. Pippin sat to his father’s right, and beside him on his right, sat Diamond--being more vigilant this time about her glass of milk. Gelly was wondrously surprised at receiving a birthday cake after dinner; tomorrow, on his “proper” birthday back at the Smials, he would hand out his gifts to everyone.

It would be just over an hour before the dance would begin; in the meantime, folks would merely socialize or fill up their corners.

Pippin had a quick word with his father and Merry and then left. “I have urgent business to attend to at the Smials,” Pippin told Diamond when taking his leave of her, “but I shall quickly return to receive my dances.”

While the children indulged in another helping of birthday cake, Diamond thought the setting sun set off lovely golden-orange hues. She went to the tent window for a better look. “It’s beautiful,” she said to no one in particular. Then she noticed the multitude of young lasses heading in the direction of the main pavilion. “Look at them all!”

Pimpernel came up beside the tween, taking in the view. “Yes, it is a lovely sunset,” she answered, then leaned in toward Diamond so that she couldn’t be heard on the outside. “Mother refers to it as the March of the Lasses,” then she smirked, “but father calls it March of the Huntresses”. Diamond grinned at the Thain’s allusion. Pim went on, “It began when Pippin turned twenty-five, I think--the year he started to take an interest in how he looked. My little brother is rather handsome…for a pest, that is.”

“Who is she?” asked Diamond, pointing to a group of lasses headed by a tall lass in the centre wearing dress made of a soft, silky fabric, the colour of deep gold. “She’s beautiful!”

“That’s Petunia Chubb,” said Pim, “and she thinks so, too.”

“Stop!” Diamond whispered, snickering. “You’re going to get us both in trouble--making me laugh like this.”

“What are you two lasses whispering about?” asked Merry, stepping up beside Pimpernel. He took one glance out the window, seeing Petunia and her group passing in front of the Thain’s tent. “Oh--nothing of relevance, I see.” He quietly went back to the table, talking with his cousin and uncle.

Pimpernel grew sombre. “Diamond, it was people like her that made our own adjustment from farm life to life within high-born social circles difficult.”

“You’re high-born--and you lived on a farm?”

Pim nodded. “That drawing you have hanging in your room of the farm smial is the actual smial where Pippin, my sisters, and I grew up. Merry drew it one summer while he and Pippin visited after Tilby was born. Hilfred and I moved there soon after our wedding.”

Diamond saw that Pimpernel’s eyes glistened in the light of the deepening sunset. Without a word, she placed her arm round Pim’s shoulder.

“It looks as if Pippin is going to be late; he should have returned by now,” said Paladin, looking at his pocket-watch.

“He shouldn’t be much longer, Uncle Paladin, assuming he was able to borrow Sancho’s pony like he wanted to,” Merry put in.

Paladin gazed round at his family inside the tent. “He should know to meet us at the dance pavilion,” he said, then took Eglantine’s arm in his. “Shall we?”

The whole family slowly walked in the direction of where the dance would be held, mingling a bit along the way with various relations also walking the same route.

“The dancing won’t start until my father and mother begin the first dance,” Pearl instructed the tween, who walked between her and Pimpernel. On Pearl’s other side walked her eldest child, Delia. “And father won’t begin the dance without Pippin being present. So, we have plenty of time to get there.”

“I wonder what sort of urgency compelled him to go all the way back to the Smials in such short notice,” said Diamond. “It must have been very important.” Pearl gave her sister a wink; they, too, had been in on Pippin’s plan.

“As Merry said,” Pimpernel replied, “Pippin will return soon.”

“There’s that Petunia lass,” remarked Diamond. “She has two lasses to attend to her hair!” The tween stood still for a moment, gaping at all the to-do going on with Petunia. She noticed an older matron smoothing out Petunia’s party frock, Diamond guessed it must have been the lass’s mother. Seeing three Took-lasses staring at her daughter, the matron nudged the younger lass, muttering something Diamond couldn’t hear. Diamond made to continue walking.

“She’s coming over to greet us, Diamond,” said Pearl, holding Diamond where she stood. “Pim and I are the Thain’s daughters, so according to protocol, she is making the first move. It would be impolite for us to ignore her.”

Pim snorted a laugh, “Someone ought to tell her that.”

Diamond watched how graceful the lass strolled, the shimmering hues of gold in the material as she moved. Her hair pinned up with flowers, and a small, thin gold circlet was set round the knot of hair behind her head.

“Hullo, Mistress Pearl, Mistress Pimpernel,” Petunia said as she approached the little group. The latter name she said rather flatly; it was not lost on Pim.

“Hullo, Petunia,” Pearl greeted the lass in return. Pimpernel forced a smile while gritting her teeth. “Allow me to introduce Miss Diamond North-took of Long Cleeve.”

Petunia glared at the young tween. “She’s one of your…staff at Great Smials, or is she to attend your daughter?”

“My daughter, Delia, is only nineteen years old and does not require such,” Pearl answered firmly. Delia’s eyes were wide with surprise; her mother was usually calm and easy-going. “Even if Diamond is a part of our staff, she was invited by my sister and me to walk with us, and decorum dictates that you address her as our equal.”

Petunia let out a long resigned sigh. “Good evening, Diamond.”

“Miss Diamond,” Pimpernel put in. “And I will say that Miss Diamond is a very close friend of the family.” Pimpernel mischievously grinned, “And later you will see just how close of a friend she is.”

Diamond wanted to sink into the ground.

Petunia gazed distastefully at the lass with a new bandage wrapped about her eye, at the lavender smock with a gravy stain on the thread-worn cuff. Half-blind, reeks of garlic, and has no notion of clothes she should wear to a dance. I have nothing to worry about, thought Petunia. “I can hardly wait,” she said smugly. “Good evening to you.”

“The cheek!” Pimpernel muttered when Petunia was out of earshot. “Did you see that hair bauble she wore?”

“I saw it,” said Pearl.

“Grandfather says it best,” said Delia. “She’s definitely a wolf.”

Diamond couldn’t help but smile, Pearl pulled her astute daughter into a hug as they walked.

Soon they drew near to the pavilion; colourful, bright lanterns lit magnificent tent with ambience. Families came together at picnic tables, children ran up and down the length of the pavilion with excitement while the tweens gathered in groups, milling about the dance area. Pearl and Pimpernel found the table where their parents and the rest of the family would be sitting.

“What took you so long, Mummy?” asked Hilly.

“I ran into an old friend,” she answered him with a wet kiss to his cheek. Pearl raised her eyebrow to her sister. “He wouldn’t understand,” Pim explained.

Merry leaned in to whisper to his cousins, well out of earshot of Diamond, “He’s back--tell her to go wait with the other lasses.”

“Diamond, the tweens usually stand over by the dance area to await their opportunity for a dance,” Pimpernel told the lass.

Without further thought, Diamond ambled her way to the various groups of tweens not too far away. Diamond didn’t know exactly when Pippin would be able to dance with her, however, she wanted to be close by to him nevertheless.

“Hullo, Miss Diamond!”

Diamond turned toward the cheery voice. “Hullo, Miss Myrtle,” she responded. Today, Myrtle wore a simple, but pretty, blue frock with several thin ribbons of varying hues of blue tied in her hair. “Everyone is all dressed up,” Diamond began to worry.

“This is just an average dress that I would wear to a ladies’ tea,” Myrtle said, sensing the lass’s anxiety. “Don’t worry--you look fine. There are one or two lasses running round here who are very overdressed for the occasion.” She grinned, then indicated with a nod toward Petunia Chubb. “Are you here to try for a dance with Pippin?” she asked Diamond.

“Yes…well, he asked me if I should care to dance with him,” Diamond replied innocently.

“He did?” Myrtle asked in amazement, a hint of a smile on her lips.

Diamond nodded. “I do apologize if I seemed…unfriendly when we met before.”

“I wasn’t exactly being a proper lass, either,” Myrtle said in apology. “Trust me, my mother taught me better; Sancho and I had our hundredth row the night before and I wanted to make him jealous. Pippin and I are only friends, yet I found myself hoping to be on his arm all evening for just that reason, not for just one dance.”

“Do you love him?” Diamond asked.

“Pippin?” Myrtle giggled, “I love him like the distant cousin that he is. I suppose I’ve always had a soft spot for him, but as we grew into older tweens, we went in different directions.” Myrtle had an impish grin on her face. “We had our first kiss together behind the blacksmith’s shop in Hobbiton, but that is the extent of our love life,” she quipped. “Sancho and I have been courting on and off for about a year.”

“Are you both considering betrothal at all?” Diamond asked, warming up to her old nemesis. Instead of feeling jealous, Diamond felt she had found a new friend.

Myrtle pondered the frankness of this working lass, enjoying not having to put on airs as with her peers. “I am,” she answered Diamond, “but, I’m waiting on him. I think he’s getting ready to ask the question.”

Diamond smiled sweetly, “I hope he does that tonight, and good luck to you both.”

All at once, a throng of lasses pushed past the tweens. “He’s here!” Diamond heard one of them shout.

“Myrtle!” yelled Petunia from the front row, “Come up this way! He won’t see you standing all the way in the back.”

Several more late comers pushed past Diamond, shoving her into Myrtle. Diamond tried to avoid falling into Myrtle, but her blindside only made the matter worse. “I’m sorry, Miss Myrtle,” Diamond said after her new friend helped her recover her balance. “I couldn’t see how close you were.”

“Are you all right?” Myrtle asked Diamond, giving her a once-over to ensure she didn’t injure herself.. “I think I will stay here with you in case a few more eager lasses rush by.”

“Myrtle!” Petunia called out again.

“I’m staying here with Diamond,” Myrtle shouted above the murmuring of the gathering crowd.

“You’re staying with a servant?” Petunia shot Diamond a look of disdain.

Myrtle leaned toward Diamond, “Are you a servant?”

“Well…I do work for a living,” Diamond answered truthfully. She didn’t get the impression that Miss Myrtle was anything like Miss Petunia.

“Yes, with a servant! And I’m rather enjoying her company,” Myrtle returned her equivalent the same look of disdain. Then she whispered to Diamond, “I don’t like her one bit.”

As Pippin approached the dance area, he greeted his mother and father with a kiss. The musicians struck up the first cords of the dance. Not a fast song, yet not too slow, either.

“Pippin!” Eglantine kissed her son, “This is why you went back home?”

Pippin smiled in response, “I did.”

“Leave the lad be, love,” Paladin linked his arm with his wife’s, taking her out for the first dance of the evening. “He has his reasons.”

Pippin let his parents have a respectful few minutes before seeking his dance partner. His green eyes lit with excitement, he scanned the crowd of lasses on the other side of the dance area. Some of the lasses caught his gaze and waved at him. He politely waved back, but they weren’t who he was looking for. Pippin stepped forward, looking for her, but she wasn’t in the front row.

“Hullo, Pippin,” he heard someone call his name, but her voice was not Diamond’s. Pippin continued searching the multitude of female hobbits.

“Peregrin Took!”

Pippin’s head snapped round when he heard his full name used.

“I asked you for a dance,” Petunia said, hands on her hips. “You are supposed to respond in kind.”

Pippin thought Petunia’s frock looked quite lovely; he imagined Diamond wearing a beautiful dress much like it. He smiled, imaging his sweet Diamond. Then he saw the Petunia. “Perhaps later,” he replied in a flat tone, then put his attention back to wading through the crowd. He was at least a head above most, so he thought finding Diamond shouldn’t be a problem.

“Pip!”

For some strange reason, Pippin looked up. He spied Myrtle way in the back; she must have been standing on an old tree stump. She was pointing downward beside her. He smiled and gave Myrtle a nod. The sea of lasses parted to make a path for the young Knight.

“Thank you , Myrtle,” he said gratefully as he drew near. He looked about, “I thought Sancho would be here by now.”

“He told me he’d be along as soon as somebody brought back his pony,” she grinned.

Pippin smiled, “I shall return soon to give you the dance I promised, but I do know that Sancho will want to dance with his favourite lass.”

He turned to Diamond, standing demurely off to the side. “Diamond North-took,” he began, “I would be honoured if you would share this dance with me.”

Diamond gaped at the sable surcoat with the silver tree of Gondor stitched into it, and the seven stars over it. She spoke softly, almost a whisper, “This is your livery…,” she covered her mouth in awe. She thought Pippin looked refined, tall, and very handsome. All of the places he had travelled to came to her mind, and with it, the evil creature Merry had sketched. She couldn’t fathom the things this lad had been through in order to stand here today, proudly wearing the symbol of the new kingdom. A tear fell from her eye. “No, Mr. Pippin--I’d be the honoured one.”

“Let us be honoured while dancing with each other,” Pippin whispered into her ear, jesting. He then took her by the hand, gently guiding her through the crowd of lasses. They all murmured to one another as Pippin--and this unfamiliar lass--passed them by. He took her to the centre of the floor, put his arm lightly around her waist then took her other hand in his…and they danced.

TBC

Chapter Twenty - Fire and Ire

Aldigard removed his hat as the Great Door to the Smials opened up, the light from the hallway spilling out into the night. “Good evening, Miss,” he said, “My name is Aldigard North-took, from Long Cleeve. We’re here on errand to see Mrs. Brownfield.”

“M’name is Daisy,” said the servant with a curtsy, “at yer service.” Her brow furrowed, “Mrs. Brownfield? She’s at the Fair with her family.”

“When do you expect her to return?” asked Aldigard. “You see, it’s very important.”

“Prob’ly not ’til after the dance,” she answered him. “Usually goes on well after midnight.”

“What is it, Daisy?” asked Everard, walking up behind the young lass. He and his family did not attend the Fair this year--with Thistle having a head cold and his expecting-wife Laurel feeling ill more and more lately.

Daisy conveyed Aldigard’s purpose to Mr. Everard. “Mistress Pimpernel won’t be back for quite a while, I’m afraid,” Everard concurred, scratching at his head with a tired yawn. He was exhausted, and these travelling hobbits looked worse than he felt. Moreover, to make matters more interesting, Reggie was off in Michel Delving with his wife attending her aged mother lying on her deathbed. “Seems I’m wearing two hats this evening,” Everard smiled wearily. “Daisy, please prepare the family guest quarters--,” he paused, “you lads are all family, I take it?”

“Aye, sir,” answered Aldigard. “This lad,” he gestured to the taller lad, “is my son, Andobras North-took. This other lad is my nephew, Valdigrim.”

Everard was forced to think…he had heard the last lad’s name used before…not too long ago. Oh, my!, he thought to himself. “Daisy, please continue on and prepare the family guest quarters for these gentle-hobbits. And after you have shown them to their rooms, please come to my office.”

What Everard said--and didn’t say--wasn’t lost on Daisy. These stranger-hobbits did not seem to be scoundrels, or Mr. Everard would not bother with putting them up for the night. Yet everything wasn’t exactly right, either, because now Mr. Everard was on his way to his office. She’d be quick about her business, that’s for sure.

* * *

Pippin sat winded at the picnic table wiping sweat from his brow. “I don’t think I have anymore dances left in me,” he said, feeling the weight of his mail shirt. “But I suppose I should get Petunia’s dance out of the way.”

Most folk had already left the dance, having young children to put to bed. Only a few young couples danced while several lasses stood about hoping for a second dance with the Thain’s son. In addition, a few members of Paladin’s family remained at the table…and then, of course, Petunia sat with her friends.

“I’m going to sleep well tonight,” remarked Diamond, sitting beside Pippin, and also out of breath. Pippin insisted on dancing every other dance with her.

“I hope not,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I might want to play draughts at four in the morning.” He looked over to the dwindling group of lasses. “Ah well, she isn’t going to go home without one and I did say that I would perhaps dance with her later. Here I go.”

“A glutton for punishment, I say,” said Merry, sitting across from him. Kali lay peacefully in his dad’s arms.

“Well, so far she hasn’t tried to come between me and Diamond,” Pippin standing up to perform his task.

“That’s because she hasn’t been given the chance,” Merry shot back, gently sweeping his arm round Stella’s shoulder. Diamond’s ears perked up at his words.

Once Pippin had gone, Merry reached under the table, giving his wife’s hand a squeeze to signal her. Stella caught his gaze then looked over to Diamond, who stared at the table with an empty expression on her face. “Diamond, would you care to dance with me?” he winked at her. “Stella is busy holding the baby, and she’s actually asleep right now.” Diamond looked up at the kind hobbit and nodded. “Stay here with Auntie Pimpernel,” he told Kali, sitting the sleepy two-year-old in his cousin’s lap.

When the music started, Pippin groaned, “Oy…not the Springle-Ring!” His poor tired legs could barely keep up with Petunia, who surprisingly had lots of energy. Merry and Diamond lapped Pippin and Petunia several times. “This had better be his last dance,” Merry snickered, “unless it’s with you, of course.”

“He looks so exhausted,” observed the tween. “I could always dance with him another time.” Being that Merry was a head taller than she, Diamond didn’t see him smile at her remark.

The music ended, leaving Pippin bent over and breathless. Petunia saw Merry and that wretched lass walking in her direction. Petunia knew from the moment Pippin passed her by to ask that wench for the first dance that she had lost her chance with him. Not to worry; at least she would give the wee upstart a piece of her mind. Better yet! “Pippin,” she said, tugging up on his surcoat, forcing him to a standing position. Petunia quickly pulled Pippin close, her lips fully upon his.

Merry stopped in his tracks, having a dreadful memory. Diamond kept walking, her eye locked on the scene taking place.

Pippin felt as if he was suffocating, his arms flailed until they found Petunia and shoved her away. “What are you doing?” he gasped, wiping his lips with his sleeve. “Are you cracked, lass?”

Ignoring Pippin, Petunia glared at Diamond, “Are you surprised, little lassie? My advice to you is to not meddle in the affairs of your betters.”

“Surprised?” said Diamond, her arms firmly folded over her chest, fire in her brown eye, returning the glare. “Not in the least--not after all the things I’ve heard about you. It’s one thing to say insulting things about me or to me, but when you mistreat my friends that is another matter entirely. Instead of taking advantage of them, take a moment to think about what these lads have done for the Shire so that we can have dances like this. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Miss Petunia! But from the look of things it appears that shame is something you lack.”

“How dare you!” Petunia swung her hand out toward Diamond as if to strike her. By this time, Merry had caught up to Diamond, standing behind her. With snake-like reflexes he reached out and grabbed Petunia’s wrist. “Don’t,” was all he said, but his icy blue eyes spoke volumes.

Pippin’s breathing had become more regular. His voice barely audible, he said to Petunia, “Please leave.”

Back at the picnic table, Pimpernel stood waiting for Merry with his young son. “Are you all right?” she asked the threesome as they returned.

“I’m fine,” Merry said with a slight grin. “I think Diamond is a tad upset.” He looked over to the tween, anger still smouldering in her dark features.

“I don’t blame her--I would be, too, after the deed Petunia just pulled,” Pim replied, lightly bouncing the sleeping babe in her arms. “I almost don’t want to give him back to you,” she said handing Kali over to Merry. “He reminds me so much of Hilly when he was two.”

“Where is everyone?” asked Pippin, seeing Merimas and Pervinca were missing, as well as Pearl and her family.

“They went back to the tent to get a head start on gathering their belongings,” answered Eglantine. “It’s almost one o‘clock, son,” she said, smiling at her lad and patting him on the back. “Time for all young hobbits to be in bed.”

Pippin hugged his mother and blushed, “I’m not a young laddie anymore, mother.” They all began walking back toward the Thain’s tent.

“Thank you,” he whispered into Diamond’s ear as they walked behind the rest of the family in the darkness, his hand clasped round hers.

“For what?” she asked.

“For your trust,” he said. “I would never willing kiss that lass--nor any other lass,” he quickly added the last words.

“I know that,” Diamond answered quietly, feeling Pippin wrap his arm round her; she smiled, feeling her heart flutter. The tween then snuggled closer, putting her arm round him.

Diamond heard and felt Pippin snicker. “What are you laughing about?” she asked.

“You’re definitely a granddaughter of Bandobras,” he replied, giving her a loving squeeze.

“Oh, I am!” she said, “I’m a direct descendant through my father and his father--all the way back to Bandobras himself.”

Pippin gazed in amazement at the wee lass walking beside him, her arm round him. His heart swelled with pride…and love. “When I was a child, I used to dream of being in his band of hobbits fighting off orcs and all enemies of the Shire.” He sighed sadly, “And then…I got my chance when I was older…and I quailed at the sight of just one.” His thoughts came back to the present, feeling Diamond’s arm tighten round him. “I’m sorry.” Pippin didn’t mean to let “things” slip like this, but he felt so comfortable in Diamond’s presence.

“Don’t be,” she spoke softly. “I want to hear everything, Mr. Pippin, not just the nice moments. I know all too well that there were gruesome times, too.” She looked up at him, “We have a few books in our family’s keeping--they’re not kept in the libraries at all. They tell of the Bullroarer after the battle. My uncle keeps them at his house. When I lived with him I snuck a look at them. You will be surprised to find that you and Bandobras are not so different.” Diamond’s heart nearly leaped out of her chest when she felt Pippin kiss the top of her head! Her toes barely touched the ground as they walked.

Pippin made a mental note to address the “Mr. Pippin” issue later.

“Grandpa, grandpa!” Gelly shouted, running out of the Thain’s tent. “Uncle Everard sent a message for you--and for Mum, too!”

Inside the tent, Paladin puzzled over what sort of message this could be. “We have visitors from Long Cleeve,” Paladin finally spoke.

Pimpernel blanched, remembering the letter she had sent days ago. Her knees suddenly grew weak. “Gelly,” her voice barely audible, “help your mum to sit down.” Gelly wondered at this, but he willingly helped his mother to sit down. Pimpernel sat trembling as her father perused the message his scribe sent. Everyone waited in silence while Paladin read the contents, then pass the letter on to his daughter.

“What is it?” Pippin asked, stepping closer to Pimpernel to read over her shoulder. Pim read all that she needed to then gave it to her brother.

“I’ve gone and made a complete mess of things,” Pim moaned, holding her head in her hands.

Pippin took the time to fully read it. “Let me have a moment alone with her, please,” he asked his father.

“All right, Pip,” Paladin replied. “For a few minutes. We will wait for you in the carriage.”

Diamond thought Pippin wanted to be alone with his sister, so she proceeded to pick up her doll and other bits and pieces in her arms--among them was a huge stuffed rabbit Pippin had won for her at the Ring-Toss game. When she walked by Pippin he gently stopped her. “I need to speak with you a moment,” he said sombrely.

“I thought you needed to speak with Mrs. Brownfield,” she replied.

“No…please sit here,” he said, setting out two chairs to face one another. He helped her to set down the doll, rabbit--and the bag of sweets that he also purchased for her. Pippin took her hands in his own. Just earlier today, they were in this same position, but revealing their feelings for one another. All of that seemed an age ago now. “Diamond…your mother is demanding your return to Long Cleeve. Remember the letter my sister sent?”

“I knew my mother would do this,” Diamond interrupted angrily, the old fire rising again. “She can’t make me go home.”

“She has a good argument, Diamond,” Pippin answered. “You’re not of age yet, so you still belong to her.”

“I have never belonged to my mother,” Diamond retorted.

For a long moment, many things came to Pippin’s mind; why the tween had been so eager to leave her family far behind at such a young age--never becoming homesick. The remark he nearly missed a few minutes ago about her living with her uncle… Pippin spoke softy, “It appears the both of us need to have a very long talk. Seems I’m not the only one with a shaded past.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. “I’m not going home,” she said firmly, wiping it away.

Pippin reached inside the pouch on his belt, handing his lovely lady his pocket-handkerchief. “And this time--I am not letting go without a fight. I will fight for you, Diamond.”

TBC

Chapter Twenty-One - The Fate of One

The ride home from the fairgrounds was a long one; Pippin was grateful when it was finally over. Stepping inside the great door, he accompanied Diamond to her door. “I want to go with you,” she said to Pippin.

“Everard is only going to inform my father and me--and Pim--on what happened earlier. It most likely won’t be anything that we haven’t already discussed or read in the letter.” He lifted her chin, “If your uncle is present, I will return so that you may greet him. Otherwise, I shall see you in the morning?” The tween nodded. Pippin kissed her hand, “Good night, Diamond.”

* * *

Diamond tossed and turned upon her mattress until she thought she had every bump and lump memorized. She felt beyond exhausted this night; her mother plagued every waking thought, chasing away any hope of sleep. Irritated and tired, Diamond angrily kicked off her blanket. “I’m not going home!” she muttered, sitting up. Diamond threw out any notion of finding sleep until the matter was addressed in the morning. She turned the lantern up then padded over to her wardrobe. Pulling on her nightcoat, the tween ambled into the hallway. Diamond looked up at a clock that hung upon the tunnel wall; four o’clock in the morning. She smiled, then turned down one particular passage.

“I thought you’d never come,” said the familiar voice. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I tried to sleep,” said Diamond, entering the parlour with a yawn, “but instead of sweet dreams, there was an image of my wretched mother that turned them into nightmares.”

“Surely you don’t mean that,” said Pippin.

“Yes, I do.”

Pippin sighed; “I couldn’t sleep, either.” He gazed at the lovely lass with her bed hair and lopsided bandage staring blankly at the game pieces. “Come with me,” he said, taking her by the hand.

“Where are we going?”

“Just over here on the couch,” Pippin answered, “where we can talk more easily.”

Diamond looked nervously about the room, “We’re not going to do anything naughty, are we?”

“No!” he laughed. “We’re sitting in the parlour--an open room for all to see inside. Besides, I’m not a naughty lad.”

Relieved, Diamond settled onto the couch next to Pippin. “I keep thinking that perhaps Sapphira and Hildebrand were naughty. That’s why they got married so suddenly.”

“Haven’t you opened her letter yet?”

“No--and I don’t want to know.”

“Now don’t go and trump up things that might not be true,” Pippin cautioned the tween. He shifted his sitting position on the couch to face Diamond. “What I should like to know is why home is such a depressing place for you. Very few tweenagers live over thirty leagues from their families without getting homesick. I have yet to see you pine away for your family.”

Diamond casually shrugged. “I suppose my mum and I were never really close. I always trailed after my dad while Sapphira stayed near to our mum. But after our dad died, mum changed--she became bitter.”

“Toward you?”

Diamond grew a bit uneasy. “Not only me, Sapphira, too. I don’t recall my mum being so sour when I was a little lass. Later on though, when I was an older teen, and I would visit from uncle Aldi’s house she’d say things to both Sapphira and me about how I was the last person to see our dad alive, and that not being able to recall anything of that night was false. There was no question that her comments were aimed to make me feel bad. Since then, the air has always tense between us.”

Pippin shook his head sadly, “She would actually say things to you as if you stood there watching the whole ordeal and did nothing for your father! You were a child--what did she expect you to do? Did your uncle know about this?”

Diamond nodded, “Yes. I once came back home--to his home--in tears. Next thing I know, he’s storming of the house and taking me with him. He made me stay outside in the wagon, but after what seemed to be the longest hour of my life he came and took me to my mother.”

“And what did she do?” asked Pippin, wanting to say a few things to Opal himself.

“She said she was sorry,” Diamond spoke softly. “She hugged me. For a very quick moment, I thought my old mum was back--I even saw her when I looked into her eyes. Then the moment was gone. I looked into the cold stare of her anger.” Tears sprang from Diamonds eyes as she went on. “I lived with my uncle and his family for eleven years. I was twenty-four when I went back to live with my own family, and my mum hadn’t changed a bit. Yet to this day, I still don’t know why she hates me so.”

Pippin scooted closer to put his arm round the lass and comfort her. “We don’t have to talk anymore, Diamond,” he said, kissing her head. “Let’s just sit here for a while and watch the sunrise.”

Once the sun rose up, greeting the young couple through the large round window of the parlour, Pippin walked Diamond to her room, as they both needed to make themselves presentable for breakfast.

The first meal of the day was a sombre one for the Took family, except for the young children who weren’t old enough to understand the issue. Pippin noticed that Diamond barely touched her food. He looked down at his own plate; he wasn‘t feeling particularly hungry, either. Afterward, Pippin, his cousin, brothers-in-law, and father were sitting in the parlour having an after breakfast smoke.

“At what time is the meeting to take place in your study, Father?” Pippin asked.

“Promptly at nine o’clock,” answered Paladin. “I’ve sent word to Aldigard and the lads.”

“Diamond ought to have some sort of emotional support through all of this,” said Merry. “I’ll see if Stella will keep her company this morning.”

Merimas concurred. “I’ll ask Pervinca the same, though I think none of the lasses will think twice about keeping Diamond’s mind occupied.”

Pippin looked gratefully at his “brothers”, “Thank you. I should be more at ease knowing Diamond is surrounded by those who love her.”

“In truth,” said Paladin, exhaling a plume of smoke, “I think Miss Diamond ought to be in the meeting, as it concerns her.”

“Very well, Father,” said Pippin laying aside his pipe in an ash bowl. “I shall go and bring her.” To hear Diamond’s wishes from her very own mouth should help their cause. Fifteen minutes before the meeting was scheduled to begin, Pippin escorted the tween to his father’s study to greet her uncle and have a few private words with him beforehand.

“Hullo, Diamond,” Aldigard embraced his niece.

“Hullo, uncle,” she responded, “I wish mum would have come herself--that way, this matter should be over with already.”

“I’ll be in Everard’s study should you need me,” said Pippin, taking his leave.

“Please…stay,” said Diamond. “I want you to meet my dear uncle.” She then properly introduced them.

“At your service,” said Pippin with a bow, receiving the same courtesy from Aldigard. He then considered Diamond’s comment. “However, I too, should like to know the answer to Diamond’s remark. Why didn’t Mistress Opal travel with you?”

A gleam of North-took temper shown in Aldigard’s eyes. “Because at this moment she is busy conferring with Otto Bracegirdle.”

“Who?” Diamond demanded. “And why?”

Aldigard replied, “He is whom your mum is arranging to be your husband come this Yule season.”

“Not while I live!” Diamond retorted. “Mr. Otto is fifty-nine years old--no! I absolutely will not marry that hobbit!”

“He’s almost old enough to be her father,” Pippin put in, also growing irate. “Besides, there are more than enough unmarried lasses in the Shire that are a bit older and willing to marry hobbits of Otto’s age.” Again, he looked at Aldigard, “Why Diamond?”

“If truth be told,” replied Aldigard, “I don’t believe Otto cares who he marries--all he’s wanting is an heir to carry on his name. However…there’s money in it for Opal. A lifetime’s worth, to be sure. She says she’s looking after her daughters, but what Opal’s really doing is making sure that she’s ‘cared for’ throughout the rest of her life. Opal thinks she has no one to provide for her, failing to see her own flesh and blood performing that task in her later years. So she provides for herself--at the expense of her own children.”

“Well, she is going to learn it from one of her own flesh and blood,” said Diamond with determination. “I will not marry Mr. Otto Bracegirdle--or any other hobbit she arranges for me.” Pippin regarded the lass beside him with veneration; she most assuredly had a strong spirit about her.

Aldigard smiled sadly, “Enough about Opal’s nuptial activities--for now. I want to hear about you, lass. I really wanted to come south to see if you were genuinely happy here,” he told Diamond. “Sapphira said that you were writing her but suddenly stopped after she married. Is everything well between you two lasses?”

Diamond hesitated, her thoughts all tumbling inside her weary head at once. “I have some questions for you at a later time--if you don’t mind.”

Aldigard put his arm round his niece’s shoulder, “I don’t mind at all, though I can easily imagine what is on your mind.” The hobbits sat upon one of the couches to relax a bit. “Your auntie and I both were worried when we learned about your accident,” said Aldigard to Diamond. “Even your mum seemed worried about your welfare--or so I thought. She asked that I accompany Valdigrim to see how you were faring, and then I learned of her true motive.” By this time, Paladin and Everard, the recorder for the meeting, entered the study.

“My mother can plot my wedding all she wants,” said Diamond, “but I won’t be there. And I am not going back to that house.”

Aldigard looked at his niece sadly, “She’s gone and made Valdigrim her representative--he is to speak for her, and I daresay Opal has thoroughly instructed the lad in what she wants done.”

“Pardon me?” Pippin interjected with alarm. “You mean Diamond’s fate--her life rests in the hands of a twenty-three-year-old tween?”

Aldigard let out a long breath, “So it seems.”

Pippin looked round the room. “Has anyone even seen him? Where is he?”

“Down at the stables looking at the ponies,” said Andobras from the doorway. “I couldn’t tear him away. Hullo, Diamond.”

“Hullo, Ando,” Diamond answered softly.

Pippin was incredulous. “He couldn’t tear himself away from the ponies to see about his sister?” He turned to Paladin, “This is absurd.” Pippin’s inner hope was that his uproar over Valdigrim’s decision-making abilities would appear the ridiculous notion that it was.

“She’s written her instructions down,” said Aldigard, handing over yet another letter to Pippin.

Pippin read the second letter and then gave it to his father. “I do not believe Valdigrim is mature enough to make such an important decision in someone else’s life, Father.” Without any of them realizing it, for all intents and purposes, the meeting had started.

“I agree,” said Paladin, “but apart from what you and I think, those are her wishes. Nevertheless, Miss Diamond does not belong to me--nor to Pimpernel. According to Shire law, Miss Diamond is a minor youth, and therefore if her mother wants her back home, there is nothing you, Pim, or I can do about it. I wanted to have this meeting because I thought Miss Diamond stood a chance to rebut her mother’s demand, however, because of Mistress Opal’s second letter, my hands are tied, son. If she had not the forethought to compose such a note, then I should not feel obliged to give in to her demand.”

All eyes riveted toward the door when it creaked open. Young Valdigrim appeared within. “I apologize for being tardy,” said the tween.

“Sit down, lad,” said Paladin, directing the youth toward a seat beside Aldigard. “Are you keeping up with everything Ev?”

Everard sat at his writing table, silently nodding while he finished writing. At last, he looked up, “Yes, uncle--sir,” then quickly dipped his quill-pen into the ink jar.

“Well, young Master Valdigrim,” Paladin set a keen eye on the tween, “it appears your mother has sent you to speak in her stead regarding your sister.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Miss Diamond, would you care to convey your wishes to your brother?”

Initially, Diamond’s voice was barely audible, but then it grew stronger as she went on. “I don’t want to go home, Val. You already know this. I want to remain here at Great Smials, employed by Mrs. Brownfield as her children’s minder.”

“But mum wants you home,” said the lad, avoiding his sister’s gaze. “She…she says she misses you.”

“That is a lie, Val, and you know it well!” said Diamond, her eyes filled with tears. “Why are you doing this?”

“May I, dad?” asked Andobras, indicating he wanted to take an upset Diamond out of the room.

Aldigard looked to the Thain, who nodded his approval. After the tweens left the room, Paladin shifted uneasily where he sat. “You are your mother’s spokes-hobbit, Valdigrim,” he said. “What is your judgement?”

Valdigrim looked at his feet, answering slowly, “I judge that my sister, Diamond, returns home to our mother.”

“Well, there’s nothing for it then,” Pippin sighed, standing up, considering the whole meeting pointless. However, he still was not about to give up; wheels of ingenuity were already spinning round in his head.

“Pippin, I must abide by her mother’s request,” said Paladin.

Valdigrim made hastily for the door while the other hobbits milled about. Everard busied himself with neatly laying out the papers on his writing table to dry; he would write out two copies later this afternoon. Seeing that the meeting was over, Ando and Diamond re-entered the Thain’s study. Her features depicting sadness, defeat.

Pippin took Diamond aside to speak to her privately. “Will you have elevenses out in the garden with me?” he asked her. In spite of her misery, Diamond nodded.

When everyone had gone from the room, Pippin stood face to face with the Thain. “I’m going with her, father,” said Pippin, “and I’m going to bring her back home, too.”

“I’m sorry, Pip,” said the elder hobbit. “My faith in Diamond’s return is not as strong as yours. But go if you must, with my blessing--however, I would encourage that you take a trustworthy friend with you,” he grinned, knowing his son’s self-confidence ran high, “just in case.”

Shortly before elevenses, Pippin prepared for his impromptu picnic by stopping by his music room for a desired item. With it, he hoped to set the tone for his ‘mission’. As he picked up the instrument, the small “W” etched with charcoal upon the western wall caught his eye. He stared at it. It stared back at him. After a long silent moment, Pippin looked away. He turned and left the room.

His next stop was in the kitchen to get assistance with filling up a food hamper for his impromptu picnic with Diamond. “Viola!” Pippin greeted the young cook. “It’s too early for you to start your shift--is Mistress May feeling all right?”

“She’s fine, Mr. Pippin,” Viola spoke softly. She sniffled as she helped to pack the basket with his requested items.

Then Pippin noticed her red eyes. Puzzled, he asked, “Are you all right?”

“No, sir. Not at all,” the young lass answered, adding a few more accoutrements to the picnic fare. “I learnt t’day that the closest an’ dearest friend I’ve ever had is leavin’.”

“That’s what it appears to be, Viola,” Pippin said in trying to comfort the lass. “However, I plan on bringing her back after her wee visit. I intend to put an argument to Diamond’s mother that she’s not heard in a long while--and we all know that I’ve yet to lose an argument once I’ve put my mind and heart to it.”

Viola braved a smile, albeit a sad one. “Please bring her home, Mr. Pippin.” She handed the lad a small scroll. “Most o’ us don’t know how t’ write fancy an’ all, but our names are on it clear as day. You, yourself, taught us our letters.”

Pippin opened the rolled up paper and saw a long list of names written upon it, all printed in elementary fashion. He smiled, “It’s a petition.”

“That’s what Mr. Greenhill called it when he asked us t’ put our names t’ it,” said Viola. “He’s a right clever hobbit, that one. For a servant, I mean.” Viola quickly added the last part so as not to insult present company.

“Yes, Mr. Greenhill certainly is a clever hobbit,” remarked Pippin, still smiling. “May I take this with me?”

“That’s what we signed it for, Mr. Pippin,” answered Viola. “We want ye t’ take it with ye t’ show her family. When they see how much we love Diamond, they’ll have t’ send her back t’ us.”

Pippin was in awe of Viola’s simple faith. “Between this,” he held aloft the small scroll, “and my challenge to Mistress Opal, we can’t go wrong, Viola. Thank you for the provisions--and thank you for the petition.”

TBC

Chapter Twenty-two - A Court in the Garden

Pippin ambled out to the south garden bearing the large hamper filled with provender for elevenses. He rounded the corner of the main pathway into a small, private courtyard enclosed by many tall bushes and shrubbery. Here, there was also a variety of flowers: daisies, bluebells, sunflowers, and a couple of climbing rose bushes upon their respective trellises--one white, and the other a pale gold and pink. Pippin took in a long breath of the sweet-smelling fragrance. “Diamond?” he said aloud.

“I’m here,” spoke a small voice from behind one of the trellises.

“Come out, Diamond-lass,” Pippin said, placing the hamper on the ground. “Why are you hiding?”

“I overheard Val ask my uncle if we could depart after tea,” said Diamond. “I figure if they don’t see me, then they think I’m busy packing or saying goodbye to friends.”

“There is no way that you or your uncle is leaving today,” said Pippin, opening the hamper, revealing the instrument he took from his music room.

Diamond gasped with delight, “You brought your violin! Are you going to play some of your music?” Taking out the instrument swathed in a clean towel, Pippin smiled at her excitement, “Yes. I planned to anyway.”

Diamond didn’t let Pippin’s earlier comment slip away. “Why do you say that my uncle and I won’t be leaving today? How do you know this?” She began to help unpack the victuals while Pippin spread out a blanket on the ground.

“I say that because I am going with you.

“You’re coming, too?” Diamond asked with pleasant surprise.

“Yes,” said Pippin, “However, I am not packed, nor have I been able to brief my father on the state of my duties and responsibilities as his assistant, so I am not in the least prepared to begin a long journey today. Besides, I wanted to spend the rest of the morning with just you.”

Pippin handed a napkin to Diamond. “I suppose we ought to eat this delicious fare before it turns into luncheon.”

Both young hobbits ate in companionable silence, watching the sun climb high into the blue summer sky. Birds chirped and chased one another from tree to tree as the couple took in the lovely sight of colourful blossoms. At length, Diamond spoke up. “So what is to know about you?”

“What do you mean ‘what is to know about me’?” asked Pippin, reaching into the hamper for a strawberry tart.

“Now you know more about me than I do about you,” she answered. “Yesterday at the Fair you mentioned that we both needed to have a long talk. I went first this morning, so now it’s your turn, Mr. Pippin.”

“Fair is fair,” replied Pippin, popping the last bite of his tart into his mouth. He brushed his hands together to rid them of crumbs. He sat up straight, gearing up for his long tale, then took a long sip of his water.

“Stop procrastinating,” Diamond said with wry a grin.

Pippin quietly snickered, “Why don’t I start from the very beginning--from Whitwell where I was born and grew up. Actually, I was almost thirteen when we moved to Great Smials.”

“Ah, Gelly’s age,” Diamond noted. “It doesn’t matter to me where you begin,” she said, “but I want to hear all about yours and Mr. Merry’s journey to the south--I want to know everything about it--the good and the ugly. However, from your expression, I am guessing that today is not one of your better days in telling it.”

Pippin took her hand in his. “To tell you everything about my Journey would take days--even weeks of telling,” he said. “Because of that, it should be easier to tell you things as they come up--and even then I may not be able to tell you all of it. You are correct; today is just not one of my better days to tell of my Journey. I still have…well, I…sometimes have, you know…nightmares about it.” Pippin’s heart sank when Diamond gaped at him in surprise. “It’s true,” he said glumly, “…I…” He looked away from her piercing gaze. Pippin would never forgive himself for divulging this truth too soon if Diamond rejected him because of nightmares.

However, the lass only shook her head in amazement. “I…I never thought you…” Diamond said, then took a deep breath of her own. If Mr. Pippin was bold enough, then so was she. “I do, too,” Diamond confessed to Pippin, “I have nightmares of a dead, bloody hobbit chasing me in the dark. I won’t tell you what ghastly thing my mother told me.”

Pippin looked up, “You also have nightmares? What did your mother say about them?”

“Yes, that’s how I got into the habit of playing draughts with you at two, three, and four o’clock in the morning.” Diamond said smirking, “Now I know why you were always there waiting for me.”

“Well, that and…,” Pippin’s face coloured, “because I wanted to spend time with you.” Diamond smiled; he smiled in return. “I won’t ask you today what ghastly thing your mother told you,” said Pippin, “but be prepared to answer at a later time. I can see that you don’t exactly wish to speak of those horrors today, either, otherwise you should have blurted it out by now.”

Diamond made no comment to Pippin’s observation. She leaned back upon the blanket, “Now tell me more about this Whitwell that you spoke of.”

Pippin also laid back on the blanket then began his story with his grandfather Adalgrim taking his father’s inheritance to find his own way, and to find a roomier hole for his growing family. Pippin went on about his extremely early beginnings in life, growing up with three older, bossy sisters and oftentimes a dear cousin. He spoke of the bantering and practical jokes they played on one another and of all the chores he was responsible for at the farm. He then ended the long tale with his eldest sister, Pearl, marrying Wilford Goodbody a few years after they moved to Great Smials.

“You’re close to your family, aren’t you?” Diamond watched the lad smile and then nod, picking up his violin. Diamond stole a glance at the sleek, well-polished instrument Pippin held. “Who taught you how to play your violin?”

“My father did,” answered Pippin, setting the bow to the strings. “He also taught my sisters, but only Pearl has kept up with it. When I was about five and recovering from one of my illnesses, my father thought to occupy my time with teaching me how to play. Later on, he also taught me how to play a flute, but I don’t play my flute very often.”

“Play a song for me, Mr. Pippin,” said Diamond, her delight showing in her uncovered brown eye.

Pippin smiled, and then said, “On one condition.”

“What is that?”

“That you stop calling me Mister Pippin. I understand your wanting to call my sister, Mrs. Brownfield, but I insist that you call me just Pippin…please.”

“What will the other folk think, Mi--Pippin?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “and to be honest, I don’t care. You are not really a part of the Smials’ staff. You are employed privately by my sister and you receive your wages through her, not my father.”

“It’s going to be hard, but I will do as you ask,” Diamond replied.

Pippin then laid the bow in his lap to gently brushed away errant wisps of curls from Diamond’s face. “Good. And if you behave yourself, young lass,” he said with a loving smile, “I shall have something to discuss with you afterward.” Once again setting the bow to the violin strings, Pippin played a slow song; not a dirge, but a lovely melody whose lyrics were well known in the Shire. On the second round, Diamond began to hum along. On the third round, Pippin laid aside his violin, lifting his voice in song with Diamond.

“Her splendour is truly beyond compare,

Emerald hills, her trees so fair.

Sweet grass and blossoms along the lane

Give fragrances after a gentle rain.

Her bubbling brooks a joy to hear,

To anyone who has an ear.

My love will always be true in my heart,

Close by and always, never to part.

Life may call these feet to roam,

Yet ne’er will I forsake my home.

Empty would be my life and dire,

If ever I were to leave the Shire.”

After the last verse, Pippin grew silent. Diamond figured that it had something to do with his leaving the Shire on a mission years ago. No hobbit, she thought, without urgent need, should ever willingly leave their homeland behind. There were two, however, that she had been told about… Diamond looked over to Pippin, seeing a tear fall to the ground. “Do you miss them?”

Pippin blushed, wiping his face with his pocket-handkerchief. “I do today,” he answered.

“Today isn’t a very good day to talk about it, I gather.” Diamond observed.

“It isn’t,” Pippin spoke softly. “I promise when we return from Long Cleeve, that you and I will go off on anther picnic by ourselves--and I know just the spot. And at that time, you shall have the whole day of wheedling me about my Journey.” Diamond smiled, tenderly wiping away a forgotten tear from under his eye.

Pippin reached inside the picnic hamper for a carefully wrapped item. “Look at what Viola gave me,” he said, handing the rolled up leaf of paper to her.

“What’s this?”

“Read it,” said Pippin, watching the lass open the scroll.

Diamond’s lips moved silently as she perused the document, then her hand went over her mouth. “This--,” she said excitedly, “this is a petition! So many names!” After a minute of reading the names printed upon it, a cloud seemed to come over Diamonds features. “I don’t want to go back…Pippin,” she remarked sadly. “I want to stay here with everyone,” she said, rolling up the paper. Then Diamond added, “but mostly, I want to stay here…with you.”

The perfect entrance for his next bit of conversation! Pippin took in a long, calming breath. “That’s good, you see, because you’ve really seen me at my worst today; angry, sad, weeping…”

“But comforting a hurting friend is what friends do, right?”

Pippin shook his head, giving her hand a loving squeeze, “We have both said that we want to be more than just friends. You still feel this way, don’t you?” He watched the lass nod. “Diamond…”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever thought about…courting?”

“I should be lying if I said I never gave it consideration,” Diamond answered calmly as if everything was under control. Inwardly though, she was reeling with excitement.

“Good,” said Pippin with a smile. “Then may I have the pleasure of courting you?”

‘How is it possible to court a lass who isn’t here?” Diamond asked, her gloom returning.

“It’s very possible,” said Pippin, lifting Diamond’s chin. “Because you’re returning home with me after we’ve seen to your mother.” He smiled, “So what do you say?”

“Then I say, yes,” Diamond answered, feeling both of his strong hands envelope hers.

Back inside the Smials, Diamond sought out Viola while Pippin put his violin away. She found her dearest friend in the kitchen helping the morning cooks.

Viola was elated at the news Diamond told her. “Do you know what that means?” she asked with enthusiasm.

Diamond grinned, “It means that his sisters will leave us alone now.”

“No!” said Viola, laughing. “It means that ye’re both nearly betrothed!”

Diamond frowned, “How do you get that?”

“B’cause All o’ my friends that ever courted got married later on,” she said knowingly.

Diamond cocked an eye toward Viola, “And how many of your friends have done this?”

“All right,” said the cook, sitting down next to Diamond, “I’ve only known you and I knew of Mr. Everard, but it’s the truth.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Viola,” said Diamond, dispelling the notion of Pippin actually wanting to marry her. “All I know is that I’m happy whenever I’m with him. He makes me feel loved…something I haven’t felt for a very long time.”

Viola took the tween into her arms and kissed her brow, “Oh, Diamond, I’m so happy for ye, and I want ev’rythin’ to be perfect just for ye. And Mr. Pippin is the perfect lad for ye.”

After a while, Diamond took her leave of Viola to meet with Pippin at his music room. Together, they found Aldigard in the common room with Andobras. Initially, Pippin was going to ask Valdigrim’s whereabouts, then decided against it. Val was most likely where he had been right when the meeting started this morning: in the stables watching the ponies. As a result, Aldigard and Ando were the first ones of her family to hear about their courtship.

“I felt that you, her closest kin available--and the ones I deem who love her the most--should hear of it first,” said Pippin, holding Diamond’s hand, “however, I have since learned that you are the second to hear it.” He smiled at a blushing Diamond, and then placed his arm round her shoulders.

Aldigard looked at his niece. “And is this what you want as well, Diamond?”

“I do, uncle,” she answered, sitting close to Pippin.

Aldigard smiled at her. “When Diamond came to live with me--my family,” he said, indicating toward his son, “she, in essence, became my daughter--and his sister. Diamond is a part of my family, Mr. Pippin, if you get my meaning, and I aim to take great interest in her suitors. You’re her first. I don’t suppose I should be giving you scrutiny as if you were any other lad, but I do want to know what your intentions are toward my ‘daughter’.” Diamond smiled at her uncle’s words.

Pippin became a wee bit nervous, but he smiled, knowing Aldigard asked these questions because he loved his niece. “Well…,” Pippin began, “I intend to get to know her much better than I do now…and I intend to contest Mistress Opal’s demand so that Diamond may return to what she now refers to as her new home. I know that Diamond loves you dearly, and you her, but there are plenty of folk here at Great Smials who love her, too. Diamond is very social, which has endeared her to many who live and work here. And lastly,” said Pippin kissing Diamond’s hand, “I intend to show her a great deal of kindness and love.”

Aldigard smiled, “I presume you were looking for my blessing…and after hearing your plans for my niece, I give it freely--on this stipulation.”

“What is that?” asked Pippin, wondering what he did not say that should provoke such a response.

“That Diamond visit me and her auntie from time to time,” he replied. “I know it’s a long ride between here and Long Cleeve, Mr. Pippin, but as I said, she’s like one of my own children. And I shall do the same before too I get too many grey hairs upon my head.”

Outside in the tunnel, on their way to luncheon, Diamond’s excitement grew even more. “Courting…” she muttered, astonished at what just transpired in her uncle’s presence. “We’re courting…as in lad-and-lass-courting.”

Pippin laughed, “Yes…as in lad-and-lass-courting.”

Diamond was ecstatic because according to what Viola said, courting is a significant step in a relationship--toward betrothal…and then marriage, of all things. The tween went on in her musing, “as in a steady lad-friend. As in…a prelude to…”

“To betrothal?” Completely amused at Diamond’s exhilaration, Pippin grinned as he mischievously finished her declaration.

Diamond’s hand flew over her mouth as she gasped loudly. “She’s right! All the lads and lasses I know who courted wound up betrothed to each other! My sister is one of them…and,” Diamond barely paused for breath, “and then there’s my cousin Garnet--she courted for three months, and my other cousin, Andigrim, he courted for six months--but some North-tooks I know completely skipped courting and betrothal going straight to the marriage blessinthm--” Before Diamond got too keyed up, however, Pippin thought the only way to hush the lass…was to kiss her.

* * *

In the dining room at luncheon, once Paladin gave the word platters filled with meats and vegetables began to be passed round. Unexpectedly, Pippin stood to his feet. Each person paused in filling his or her plates, as it appeared the young hobbit had something to say.

“Everyone,” Pippin declared, a hint of a smile on his lips, “I have an announcement to make.”

Pimpernel and her sisters all gaped at one another, crossing their fingers.

Outside in the hallway, as Poppy rolled a cart filled with her Mistress’s and the Thain’s clean laundry toward their quarters, she heard sudden shrieks of laughter--and it seemed…joy. Poppy smiled; on her way back from the laundry room, she had stopped in the kitchen to say hullo to her friend Viola.

* * *

The rest of the day passed much too fast according to Diamond. Hours flew by until after supper, when the sun began to set. Diamond’s lack of sleep from the past few days had caught up to her with a vengeance. She nestled up to Pippin and yawned as they sat in the parlour with Merry and Estella.

“My goodness,” said Merry, “I think you just caught a couple of flies with that one.”

“Merry!” Stella reproached her husband. “She hasn’t slept well lately from what I understand.”

“She hasn’t,” said Pippin with his own yawn.

“Seems we all ought to be retiring about now,” Merry said. He would be making an early departure along with Pippin in the morning to Long Cleeve. For support, of course, but also to chaperone the couple upon their return. Merry hoped with all hope that there would be a return for Diamond--for Pippin’s sake.

“Has Donnabelle given you fresh bandages for your travel?” asked Pippin, escorting Diamond to her room.

Diamond nodded, holding his hand while they walked. “She said I should have the stitches removed after seven more days.”

“Donnabelle will remove them for you at the appointed time,” he said, pulling Diamond close.

“Pippin?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to bring your violin?”

“I can,” he replied. “I purchased a special box for it for when I travel with it.”

“Good,” she yawned again as they stopped in front of her door. “Good night…Pippin,” she said. Diamond would have difficulties for a while with remembering to drop the ‘mister’ on his name.

“Good night, Diamond,” said Pippin, kissing her brow. “Please have sweet dreams tonight. I think I’m going to be too tired to play draughts at four o’clock in the morning.”

“I will,” Diamond smiled, then stood up on her tippy-toes to kiss Pippin’s cheek. “See you at First Breakfast.”

TBC

Note: My apologies for the long delay in updating. Last week had been quite surreal for many of us. I didn’t have the heart to write until late Friday. All I can say is thank God for answered prayer. This chapter is for Dreamflower…whenever she gets round to reading it. Can’t wait to read about your "adventures"! Now on with the story…

Chapter Twenty-three - Battle of Long Cleeve

The jostling of the carriage was just beginning to take its toll on Pippin when the carriage stopped in a small village called Waterfield, just south of The Water on the Oatbarton road. The other passengers began to stir from their respective dozing or book reading at the time Mat the driver opened the compartment door. Gelly was the first--and the one with the most energy, to hop out. Pippin went next so that he could assist Diamond to disembark. Merry followed behind everyone.

Before setting out that morning from Tuckborough, Pimpernel took her brother aside. “Gelly is all packed and ready to go, Pip. If her mother can do it, then so can I.”

Pippin cautioned his sister, “It’s a long ride, Pim. There’s no turning back because he decides he doesn’t want to do it anymore.”

“I spoke with Gelly this morning, and he wants to go with you. I asked him that if there is any possibility that he might not want to deliver the message, then not to do it. I made it as clear as I could that I was not forcing him to do this task.” The plan was for the young thirteen-year-old to respond to Mistress Opal’s letter in the capacity of being Mrs. Brownfield’s representative. Pimpernel wrote her own response to Opal North-took and then sealed it with her own signet. Pimpernel had made mention that she would go directly herself and speak to Mistress Opal, however, her family reminded her of the fact that Hilly was still too young to travel so far, nor too young to stay behind for long without her. On ponyback, the travellers could cover over fifty miles per day while taking short cuts--making the trek in just a day and half. However, since one of the travelling hobbits had an aversion to riding ponies, the only other option was to take a carriage. And that meant a slower journey--two full days of it, yet for Diamond’s sake, Pippin was willing to endure it.

Pippin relented on his nephew accompanying them, thinking that maybe Gelly could keep Merry entertained (or perhaps the other way around) during the long ride.

The company departed shortly after first breakfast, stopping in Waymeet for elevenses, ate a late picnic lunch midway between Waymeet and the Three Farthing Stone. Later, they made a wee detour and stopped in Bywater for tea, leaving a message for the Gamgees and the Cottons at the Ivy Bush that on their return trip, they would take time for a proper visit. On they went again eastward on the East-West Road, passing the Three Farthing Stone and then turned northward on the Oatbarton road. After another hour of riding, they currently stood road weary and hungry on the porch of The Waterhole Inn, just south of The Water…and in time for a belated supper.

The tired travellers enjoyed a fish stew from the day’s fresh catch from The Water, including chips, carrots, mushrooms stuffed with bits of bacon and cheese, and two loaves of bread with butter. Afterwards, the hobbits took their ease in the common room with a mug of beer and a pipe. Except for Diamond, who decided to take her ease in a hot bath.

The following day was much the same as the first, however, because the villages and inns would be farther in between the travellers purchased provisions at the market to re-fill the picnic hamper. Before they began this last stretch of the journey, Gelly asked Mr. Aldigard if he could use his pony to ride with the younger lads for a while. Aldigard felt that this would be the perfect opportunity for him to speak with the other adults, helping them prepare for the confrontation that would take place much later in the day. Thus, he readily assented to Gelly’s request.

“Would you like to play a game of Dots?” Merry asked his new riding companion while smirking, making reference in how he kept the rambunctious teen occupied the day before.

“Not today, I think, thank you,” Aldigard replied. “How are you feeling today, Diamond?” he asked the tween.

“Angry,” she answered miserably, “Because I feel helpless. I don‘t want to live with her, and I refuse to marry that old hobbit. I shall run away if I have to.”

Pippin put his arm round her, scooting close to the lass. “You shall have to do no such thing,” he spoke softly to her. “I am bringing you home with me, remember? Have hope, Diamond.”

“You don’t know my mother,” Diamond replied.

“What can your mother do to me, hmm?” asked Pippin, taking her hand in his, “Throw me out of the house? Call me every name she can think of--besides that of a hobbit?”

“Diamond isn’t too far off, Mr. Pippin,” said Aldigard. “She’s a stubborn, embittered matron. She oppresses her own children through spiteful guilt. That is how Diamond came to live with my family. One afternoon, Opal had reduced her thirteen-year-old daughter to tears, wandering the lanes of Long Cleeve like a ragamuffin. My wife was returning from the market in town and so brought the distraught child to our home in the pony trap. Opal and I had words that day and have been foes ever since.”

“What about the other children?” asked Merry. “What about Diamond’s older sister?”

“The younger children were too young to understand what was going on at the time,” Aldigard replied, “however, Sapphira tried to protect Diamond as much as she could without incurring their mother’s indignation upon herself. Whenever Sapphira came to my house to visit her sister--and I think to use as a refuge, she inevitably suffered upon returning home because Opal felt “her” daughter betrayed her, by going to ‘Diamond’s side’.”

“Half a moment!” Pippin nearly shouted in anger, “Diamond’s side? Who’s supposed to be the grown-up in that house?”

“I’m only trying to prepare you as to what you’re up against, Mr. Pippin,” said Aldigard. “I’ve told you Opal is bitter…and I’ll tell you how she came to be that way.”

“Oh, joy,” Merry quipped--he agreed with Pippin’s assessment.

Aldigard went on, “Opal didn’t become bitter overnight, mind you. It ate at her heart everyday since the moment she became Mrs. North-took. You see, her and my brother’s marriage had been arranged. Opal apparently had been duped into thinking she was marrying into the wealthier branch of the North-tooks. I mean, we live well enough, all of our children are educated, however, Opal insists on maintaining a style of living in which she grew up. Nearly put Bando in the poor house, she did. My brothers Fredigard, Isenbard--we call him Bart, Bandogrim, and I had just started our own business as pony trainers and spent a lot of our extra time at honing our craft. Fred, Bart, and I were already married, but Bando kept dragging his feet in looking for a wife, saying he was too busy. He was nearing forty-two-years-old when mum and dad approached our little brother with a proposal of arranging a marriage for him--to a lass named Opal Clayhanger, whose parents had already broached the idea to mum and dad. Her family was quite wealthy, and so Opal assumed we were, too. She got a rude awakening on her wedding day--we brothers thought perhaps she rankled her family in some fashion to end up with one of us!” Ando said with a cheerless snicker. “We reeked of pony apples and saddle soap everyday--and at the time, our business was new and floundering, so we had very few pennies to rub together.

“Bando wasn’t always the brightest of our lot, but he imagined most arranged marriages worked out all right and so he thought given time his would, too. It was a marvel that his first two children were born, then we thought that maybe he got her a bit tipsy in order to have the second two. Bando wanted a houseful of lads and lasses, but if Opal had it her way, they’d have only one.”

“That answered a lot for me,” Diamond said mournfully, leaning against Pippin. She had heard this tale at times before while at family gatherings, but it still hurt to think she wasn’t exactly wanted by her mother.

Pippin pulled Diamond closer, giving her a loving kiss on her head. “It doesn’t answer anything for me,” he said softly.

“Pippin’s right; just because Opal fell into a an unwanted marriage,” said Merry, “she had no right to take vengeance on her children.”

“You say what is on the minds of all my siblings, Mr. Merry,” said Aldigard. “Opal’s children have three uncles and two aunts--our sisters--who would fight tooth and nail for any of them if we thought for one second Opal would give us guardianship. She won’t because her delight comes from emotionally afflicting her children. It’s her way of making everyone miserable.”

At this point, the travelling hobbits stopped in the road for luncheon, unhitching the draught-ponies to nibble at the green tufts of grass. Andobras and Valdigrim carried the large hamper and a blanket toward the lush, green vale near to the road to have a picnic. Diamond, still a bit upset, stayed inside the carriage and Pippin with her.

“Diamond, will you eat something if I brought you a plate?” asked Merry from outside the door. The young tween nodded. He looked up toward Pippin, “I’ll bring you both a plate.”

“Thanks, Merry.”

“Diamond,” Pippin whispered quietly into her ear when they were alone. “I am very angry with your mother right now. She is more a ogre than a mother--I now understand why you don’t want to go home; it wasn’t a happy place at all for you. Your mother may have not wanted children--or you, but I want you, Diamond.” Tears formed in Pippin’s eyes when Diamond wordlessly gazed up at him with her own tear-filled eye. He smiled his tears, “and I am so glad that you were born! To be here in my life for me to enjoy…I love you, Diamond,” Pippin said, leaning down to kiss her. For a long while Pippin held the lass snug in his arms, gently stroking her curls. He shuddered to think that whatever love Diamond developed for children--or people in general, was certainly not obtained from her mother.

Diamond nestled up to Pippin, allowing him to comfort her in her moment of emotional distress. She felt safe and secure in his arms; she felt their gentle strength as he held her, his fingers caressing her curls. She did not want him to let go.

Unfortunately, Pippin’s attention went to the door where Merry stood, quietly placing two plates upon the bench across from the couple. How long Merry had been there, Pippin did not know, but he noted that Merry said nothing--neither clearing his throat to (even jestingly) halt the warmth of an affectionate touch. Merry had his own bit of history with his father, so Pippin imagined that his cousin felt Diamond needed this moment.

The rest of the hobbits wasted no time in eating lunch; soon they were back on the road, though there was less talking this time as the air became muggy and rain clouds gathered above. Much was on Pippin’s mind; everything Aldigard said earlier only served to feed Pippin’s growing anger at Opal.

The afternoon wore on and the sky grew more overcast; Pippin pulled down his shirtsleeves when he felt a cool gust of air against his skin. “Storm’s coming,” said Merry observing the clouds.

The hobbits stopped for tea at Oatbarton, hoping the clouds would pass by without a hard rain. Once their bellies were filled with cheese, bread, and sweet cakes, the group was on their way in the carriage again. They headed a couple miles up the road until a broad lane opened up to their left (west), where a sign was posted on the corner pointing toward the north. It read, ‘Long Cleeve’.

“Local lads,” explained Aldigard. He looked out the compartment window watching Andobras turn the sign to point back toward west. “They think it’s funny.” Merry grinned at the mischief, and also relieved that this long trip would finally come to an end. He was already missing his Stella and the children.

“It won’t be long now,” Aldigard said to his travelling companions. “Another two miles and we’ll be there.” Although this wasn’t the home of Pippin, Merry, and Gelly, this area of land was indeed home to Aldigard, and he was also anxious to get home to his own family.

Pippin looked to the lass beside him, who wore a blank expression on her face.

At the sound of a few raindrops, Aldigard suddenly shouted to the driver, “Stop the carriage!” When they came to a halt, he jumped out of the carriage, calling for Gelly. “Inside you go, lad,” he said while lifting the young teen into the compartment. “The clouds are going to pelt rain upon us right now,” the elder hobbit said. Just as the Aldigard predicted, Pippin and Merry looked up at the ceiling when the sound of hard, splashing rain drowned out all conversation.

“I don’t envy them,” said Merry lifted his voice over the din while retrieving carriage window shutters from under his and Gelly’s bench.

The carriage was made with open compartment windows, although outfitted with thin wooden shutters (stored under the bench seats) that slid inside specially made grooves to protect passengers during inclement weather. “Neither do I, though we’ll be rained upon ourselves soon enough,” said Pippin, sliding in one of the shutters then opened the vertical slats for a peek. He looked out to see houses with a candle lit in the window every few hundred feet or so. Soon, they passed the town well in the village square. It was dark now, so the small ‘roof’ over it was difficult to make out.

“Why don’t we go on to my house?” yelled Aldigard into the half-open shutters. “It’s late and we’re soaked to the skin.”

“I agree,” said Pippin. “We’re all exhausted and I should like to face my opponent with a bit of sleep under my braces.” Pippin could feel Diamond’s tense muscles relax under his sheltering arm.

“Val said he is going to give Opal word that we’ve arrived in the neighbourhood,” said Aldigard, “so he might sleep in his own bed tonight.”

“Might?” asked Pippin.

“Yes,” Aldi replied, “from what I understand, she’s told him not to come home without his sister, so I don’t think that this will be a happy homecoming for the lad, either.”

“Surely you are not indicating that Opal would turn her own son out into the chill of night and the rain?” Pippin watched Aldigard shrug his shoulders in reply.

“She’s done it before when Val stayed out past his curfew, although it wasn’t raining at those times,” Diamond put in with a yawn. “He usually makes for uncle’s house, but unless he’s riding a pony, it’s a long walk from here.”

“I told him to keep my pony with him--just in case,” said Aldigard.

Now Pippin was truly disgusted; more fuel for the fire. Merry felt no better. “I stayed out past my curfew when I was Val’s age,” said Merry. “All my father did was give me extra chores to do the next evening. Tweens are like that at his age.”

“We forget who we’re dealing with, cousin,” said Pippin, his green eyes lit with the light of battle.

Twenty minutes later, the carriage slowly rolled to a stop. Having the picnic blanket inside the riding compartment, Merry pulled it out to cover Diamond with when Pippin helped her out. “Gelly, you go inside the house with Miss Diamond,” he said over the noisy rain.

The following morning, Pippin jostled the bed as he carefully rolled over so as not to shove Merry to the floor on the other side…only to find his cousin’s side of the bed already empty. Pippin laid upon his back with his hands behind his head, mulling over his plans for attack later that day.

“You’re up,” said Merry, shutting the door behind him.

“Where were you?” asked Pippin.

“Doing what I do every morning upon waking,” answered Merry. “Nothing’s changed in that respect since Crickhollow, Pip. And for your information, it’s the last room down the hall.”

Pippin finished musing on Opal for the moment. He whiffed the fragrant air of eggs and sausages cooking that his cousin let inside the room, feeling his stomach growl. “I’m hungry,” he said while rubbing his belly.

Merry filled the washbowl with fresh water from the pitcher on the washstand to prepare for breakfast. He grinned, giving Pippin a wink, “Diamond’s helping her aunt to make breakfast. Smells delicious, don’t you think?” Merry laughed when Pippin suddenly flew out of the bed to start his morning…ritual.

Once again in the carriage, the little group headed back in the direction of Opal’s house. Pippin’s thoughts whirled about inside his head as Diamond’s flat cakes and sausages settled nicely in his stomach. Across from Pippin on the other bench was Merry, opening a sack that contained the books necessary for Pippin’s argument. He ensured the markers had not fallen out from between their respective pages. Gelly nervously bounced his leg up and down upon the ball of his one foot; he couldn’t wait for all of this to be over and well on his way home.

The weather from the night before had dissipated, leaving the lane with deep puddles that Mat the driver chose not to take the ponies through unless it was shallow enough to determine the depth. Hence, it was slow going. The air itself remained moist, though fresh, while the day promised to be quite warm and muggy as the sun rose higher, evaporating the dampness.

Pippin tried to convince Diamond to stay behind with her auntie, but she was determined to speak her mind to her mother. She presently sat beside Pippin, deep in her own thoughts. Her uncle Aldigard sat up with Mat, talking to the old hobbit and giving direction to Opal’s house.

Before long, the carriage pulled into a narrow lane on the right. Pippin took in a long, deep breath. He heard the door to the house creak open while he helped his nephew and Diamond step out of the carriage. There in the doorway stood Opal North-took, arms folded over her bosom with a scowl on her face.

“Well, it’s about time,” she said to the arriving party. Then she spied the two gentle-hobbits on either side of Diamond. What in the Shire possessed the Thain’s son to accompany her daughter? And who was the other fellow? “You’ve been expected since last night, lass.”

Aldigard walked at the head of the group approaching the door then made the introductions. “You may have been expecting your daughter since last night, Opal, but Diamond is not staying here. Indeed, she is not staying in Long Cleeve.” Opal raised an eyebrow. Aldigard went on, “Diamond is returning to Great Smials tomorrow morning in the company of these lads.” He grinned at the satisfaction of seeing Opal’s genuine surprise.

“Do come in and explain yourselves,” said Opal, giving way to her guests.

Everyone had taken a seat at the large kitchen table, except for Diamond, who became their hostess, setting the tea kettle on to boil. She then took an empty chair beside Pippin that he had saved for her. She did not look at her mother, although Diamond could feel the old matron boring holes into her with her hard gaze. At Pippin’s prompting, Diamond spoke up. “It is just as uncle says, mum; I am returning to Great Smials tomorrow with Mist--with Pippin, Mr. Merry, and master Gelbrin.” Gelly made a sour face at hearing his full name. Diamond now looked her mother in the eye, “And I will not marry this Otto Bracegirdle you have arranged for me.”

Opal stared angry daggers at Diamond. “The contract has already been signed by his family and me--seven witnesses just as our laws require in red ink. I don’t understand why you are so suddenly kicking your heels at me--seems to me that Mr. Took here is provoking you to say such.”

Pippin opened his mouth to speak forth, but was prevented by Diamond’s reply to her mother. “Pippin is doing no such thing, mother. I am only repeating what I have been saying for the past five days since Mrs. Brownfield received your letter. The only reason why I am sitting here this morning is because the Thain, uncle Aldigard, and Pippin convinced me that it is within your rights as my mother, and me being under age, to require my presence in this house.” Diamond spied her mother’s premature grin. “However,” Diamond continued firmly, “I have since learned that it is within my rights to refuse an arranged marriage.” Inwardly, Pippin grinned, outwardly, he remained placid.

Opal turned her glare onto Pippin though her question was aimed at Diamond. “And how, pray tell, did you come to learn such nonsense?”

Pippin wasn’t the least bit intimidated. He quickly interjected, “As you have already guessed, I informed her. I felt it was not only my duty within my capacity as the Thain’s assistant, but also as Diamond’s friend.”

“I don’t believe any of it,” said Opal. “The marriage continues on as planned.” Gelly quietly got up when the kettle began to steam, finding the cups in the sideboard he served the tea. His ‘grown-up’ deed quietly noted by both of his uncles.

“I think not,” said Pippin, feeling a bit cheeky. “Well…not as planned anyway--you may wed him if you please. You see, according to Shire law, Diamond is truly within her rights to refuse, and so the contract you speak of is null. You must understand, Mistress Opal, that your children are not your private chattel to sell off through marriage contracts. If I were to take a closer look at this contract that you say exists, I should suspect that you stand very well off in it--in spite of the fact that you are not the one who will bear Otto’s children nor care for them for the next thirty-three years.”

“How long did it take you to discover that bit of untruth?” Opal sneered.

Pippin was in his element; he leaned back in his chair with utmost confidence. “Not long at all, Mistress Opal,” he said. “The Thain’s heir receives extensive instruction in Shire law. Granted, our law books only fill four small volumes, however, I am well versed in all four. My cousin, Merry Brandybuck, heir to the Master of Buckland, also receives training in Shire law in addition to his own studies in Buckland law, and I the same in reverse. So his presence here is no accident, Mistress Opal. Merry's got the volumes in question with him if you’d like to read the case in point yourself.”

“I do!” said the matron. Opal wasn’t giving up without a fight. And neither was Pippin, knowing that he had to be sitting in the victor’s chair at the moment. Merry accommodated Opal; he and Aldigard switched chairs so that Opal could better read the passages. Opal scowled the more she read the first instance, and then blanched while reading the second. Just the effect Pippin was looking for.

Opal looked up, “What was the purpose in my reading the second part?”

“It’s not clear?” asked Pippin, “Then let me explain. We’ve been sitting here for close to half an hour and you have not asked the whereabouts of your son. You haven’t even asked Diamond about her injury nor looked at it. I have not heard anyone else walking round inside the house--where is Gemma, might I ask?”

Opal was not as self-assured as she was moments ago. She sighed, “Gemma took apprenticeship with Marta Winterbottom the day after I sent Valdigrim to fetch Diamond. As for Valdigrim, I supposed that he would go to my brother-in-law’s house.”

Pippin glared at Opal. “You supposed he was at his uncle’s? He should never have been turned out into the night, Mistress Opal. Valdigrim is barely twenty-three years old--he will require the guidance of his parents for some years to come--and since you are his only surviving parent, then that is your responsibility. If you need help, then it is your duty to ask for it. He is your child, just as Gemma and Diamond are. Yet you have done nothing to nurture any of your four children.

“The second passage you just read refers to an argument put before the Thain over a hundred years ago. The matter coud not be resolved within his own family.  A twenty-nine-year-old lad who lived in Little Delving asked the Thain to dissociate him from his father. Thain Isengrim III approved his request for two reasons. First, because there was evidence that the lad’s father mistreated his son, taking the anger of his circumstances out on his child. Second, because the lad was a full apprentice employed and housed by the blacksmith--his master, quite capable of sustaining himself.” Pippin gazed pitifully at the bitter matron, “I think you see what I am getting at, Mistress. Either you can allow Diamond to return to Great Smials of your own will, or…we can take this a step further--and I can tell you that my father and I think alike in matters such as these.”

Opal’s grey eyes stared ahead at nothing in particular, feeling the sting of defeat. “I am tried and judged I take it.”

“Tried, yes,” Pippin answered softly, “but not yet judged. I spoke with Val before we left and suggested to him that he stay with one of his uncles for at least a fortnight, at which time he may return to you or stay where he is. Your son seemed agreeable with that idea, Mistress. You turned him out into the cold rain last night for no reason, and I expect he will not soon forget that. I highly suggest that you to take the time to check up on all of your children wherever they may be. Take an interest in their lives--win back their trust and encourage them, though I daresay it will take a long time with your eldest children. But you still have a chance with your two youngest. That is up to you. We’re decent folk south of The Water; Diamond and I will visit Long Cleeve from time to time, talking with her siblings, asking if their mother has been behaving herself.”

Opal focussed her eyes on the tall Took. “You and Diamond--visiting?”

Pippin smiled, taking Diamond’s hand to kiss it in the presence of all, “You didn’t know?” he said with a grin, “Diamond and I have been officially courting for…” he looked at his pocket watch, “almost three days exactly! I am very much in love with your daughter, Mistress Opal, even if you aren’t.” Pippin felt Diamond squeeze his hand under the table.

TBC

Chapter Twenty-Four - There and Back Again

“I wonder if Mistress Opal will ever see her children other than as a means to gain status or money,” said Merry, then took a bite of his bread.

The small group was once again at Aldigard’s house, now eating elevenses. Iris, Aldigard’s wife, served up sandwiches and fresh vegetables from their garden that Diamond prepared.

“She has to,” said Gelly, “Uncle Pippin gave her Miss Diamond’s petition and I gave her mum’s letter. I’ll wager she’s at home right now crying her eyes out because she misses her daughter.”

“Your mum doesn’t allow you to wager, remember?” Merry said with a wink.

“Gelly set his fork down, looked round the kitchen then winked back at his uncle, “Mum isn’t here, Uncle Merry.”

“I’m here,” said Pippin, pulling a grim face…and then smiled. “Trust me, Gel, your mother has more ways of learning your whereabouts and doings--,” Pip leaned in closer to Gelly, “I think she has spies, if you understand me.” He let his young nephew ponder this thought then turned to reply to his cousin. “I don’t think Mistress Opal will change much, if at all. She’s set in her ways. It’s sad to think that she will probably grow old all alone--that her children, the ones who should be looking after her in her grey years don’t want much of anything to do with her. If Opal is to gain even a smidgen of love from them, she has a lot of work to do.”

“Aye,” Aldigard agreed. “She’s dug herself into pit, I tell you. Going to be hard climbing out.”

“Do you think she has a chance, Diamond?” asked Pippin. “Climbing out of her predicament, I mean.” He felt the young lass had been unusually quiet throughout the meal. Pippin watched as Diamond ate a bite full of fresh cucumber then shrugged. After elevenses, he figured he would take her aside privately to press her for more of how she felt. “Diamond,” he said, “would you care to accompany me on a lovely walk? The air is still fresh from yesterday’s rain, and I think I should like to have a look at the most northern parts of the Shire.”

Pippin always loved the feel of dry, warm earth beneath his feet. He filled his lungs full of the fragrant breeze that blew softly against his face. Summer blossoms dotted the fields that they walked alongside of on their ramble. Diamond carried a growing bundle of wildflowers that Pippin would pick for her.

“Pippin!” she laughed as the smiling young lad handed her another bluebell. “I can’t carry another flower--we still have the walk back to uncle’s house, too.”

“All right,” he said jovially, “I’ll leave them be…for now. However, I firmly believe that these lovely flowers belong to the most beautiful lass in the Shire.”

Diamond smiled, taking the hand he offered in hers. “I think Mr. Merry might argue with that.” The couple had been walking west on the same lane her uncle lived. They came upon a narrow road leading northward. “Let’s turn up this way for a bit.”

“Merry can argue all he wants,” said Pippin, “but he’ll lose!” To Pippin, the northern road looked pleasing with fields full of tall, green corn stalks. Everything seemed quiet, peaceful out here in the country. This is what he missed most about not living in Whitwell.

“Really?” Diamond toyed with Pippin, “I should like to see a contest between two of the Shire’s finest hobbits who have studied the law on both sides of the Brandywine.”

“And south of it, too,” remarked Pippin. “So far, every time Merry and I have performed our duties in Rohan and Gondor, their respective kings assign tutors to teach my cousin and me the basics of their own laws in our spare time. In Minas Tirith, they have a library filled with books and parchments containing instances of the High King’s edicts.”

Diamond couldn’t fathom entire rooms filled with books with just one subject that in the Shire barely filled the four small volumes, as per Pippin’s remark earlier. “I don’t have a mind for that sort of thing,” she said. “I’ll leave it to you two lads. However, I do want to thank you, Pippin, for standing with me in challenging my mother. I couldn’t have done all of that without you, or your learning.”

“I would never have let you face her alone, Diamond,” he spoke tenderly. For as much as this road looked inviting, they had been walking it for a while now. “Should we be turning back?”

“I thought perhaps a little bit more,” said Diamond, her face blushing. “My sister lives yonder among those hills--in a village called Somerset.”

Pippin gazed in the direction where Diamond pointed, seeing a cluster of houses in the hazy distance. They walked beside one another in companionable silence; Pippin trying to gather what wits he had left before encountering the lass who rejected him little more than a month ago. Soon, the group of homes drew nearer…Pippin’s stomach tightened into a knot when he spied the slight figure of a lass walking in their direction…and then running. Beside him, Diamond screamed then set off running.

“Careful, Diamond!” he called out, reminding the lass of her blind side. Pippin looked on as the two lasses closed in on one another with arms open wide. Diamond still clutched her spray of flowers in her left hand as she ran toward Sapphira. They finally met halfway, holding each other tight as they laughed and cried together.

“…let me see what it looks like,” Pippin heard Sapphira tell Diamond as he caught up with the lasses. All three stood in the road while Diamond took off her bandage, revealing jagged stitching going back half an inch from the corner of her left eye. Sapphira gasped, and then embraced her younger sister. “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” she said solemnly.

Diamond pulled away from her sister and smiled through her tears, “I was sorry at first, but it’s grown on me now. I’m somewhat used to it. Pippin says it gives me character.”

Sapphira blushed, looking at Pippin for the first time, “Hullo, Pippin.”

“Hullo, Mrs. Haymaker,” he responded.

Compelled to divert the conversation, Sapphira asked, “Would you both care to come inside the house for a cup of tea?” Sapphira took her sister by the hand, “I could drive you two back to Uncle Aldi’s when we’re done.”

Diamond turned to Pippin as she walked with Sapphira, “Pippin? Shall we take tea with this married lass?”

Pippin only slightly hesitated, but replied with a nod. He loved Diamond dearly, and for her sake, he would muddle through a cup of tea.

“Pippin,” now Sapphira stopped in her own tracks, anguish written all over her features. “I do want to tell you how sorry I am for the way things turned out…I never meant to hurt you.”

For quick moment, Pippin stared down at his toes, recalling the broken shards of his heart. Yet it lasted for only a moment. Pippin looked up, gazing into the eyes of the young wedded lass with renewed courage. He realized that there would always be a smidgen of hurt over their brief romance, however, his love for Diamond far outweighed anything he and Sapphira ever had together. Pippin’s heart truly belonged to Diamond and no other. “Well,” he replied slowly, “it turned out for the best. You see, Diamond and I are now courting--officially. I’m in love with her.”

“And I, him,” Diamond put in. Trying work round the flowers in her hand, she reached out to take Pippin’s hand in her own. Pippin gently removed the flowers out of Diamond’s hand to carry them for her. He took her offered hand then smiled, walking beside her toward Sapphira’s house. At hearing the good news, Sapphira gave a cry of joy, hugging her sister, and then hesitated when she thought to give Pippin a hug, unsure of if the lad had accepted her apology. Pippin gave an affable smile, followed by receiving Sapphira’s friendly hug.

Upon entering the nice-sized house, Pippin imagined Sapphira and Hildebrand chose it so that they could fill the empty spaces with many children. The kitchen was well in order; the dishes stacked neatly in the sideboard, crocks of flour and honey were set beside one another on the tidy shelf, and a warm fire in the hearth with a kettle boiling for tea.

“Val rode in earlier and told me you arrived yesterday,” said Sapphira, reaching up to get three teacups and saucers out of the cupboard. “I’ve been looking for you all morning--if you hadn’t come when you did, I was getting ready to hitch up the pony trap and ride down to uncle’s house myself.”

Warm and friendly conversation overtook the threesome, enjoying their tea and honey cakes. At one point, Sapphira fidgeted with her teaspoon upon the table. “I…well,” she began, “I cannot express enough my regret in not waiting for you to be at my side for my wedding, Diamond. I’ve missed you so much.”

Pippin kept silent about his conjecture of the sudden marriage. He was no one’s fool, but as angry as he was with Sapphira, Pippin did not wish to embarrass her. Sometimes life happens that way, as an old acquaintance of his would like to say, however, Pippin would never choose to go that route himself.

“Hildebrand and I waited five years for him to come of age,” Sapphira explained, “and then two weeks before the first wedding, when all the trouble with the contract came up, I ran off. I was so livid about it all--and I nearly ruined everything. After Hildie and I reunited and returned to Long Cleeve last month, his mum asked us to wait another six months so that she could re-plan a proper wedding. One night while we were alone, I…well, we went a little too far. I suppose we got tired of waiting. It’s not something we’re proud of Diamond, but, well…it happened.” Sapphira looked at Diamond, “We confessed our deed the next day to his parents. Two days later we were married…and we’ve been happy ever since. But I am very sorry that you weren’t here for it.”

Diamond sipped her tea, choosing her words carefully. “Uncle Aldi explained everything to me back at Great Smials, Sapphira. I was angry for a while…but I can never stay vexed with you for long.” She reached over to embrace her big sister, who tearfully returned the gesture. “So are you?” Diamond asked Sapphira.

“Am I what?” Sapphira asked in return. “Oh!” she smiled, “No…not yet, anyway…but we’re hoping soon.”

Pippin became amused while gazing at the North-took lasses, both chattering away as they annexed the conversation. He grinned, knowing he would not have been able to get a word in edgewise. Diamond and Sapphira were just as close as his own sisters were to one another--and whomever they “adopted” into their circle. He imagined sisterhood flourished in the Northfarthing as well as it did south of The Water. Pippin smiled at his own thoughts. Lasses!

After their teacups were long empty and conversation sporadic, Sapphira looked up at the clock on the wall. “I think we’d better get you back to Long Cleeve for luncheon before uncle thinks you two got lost,” she said. “And don’t you two be strangers!” Sapphira laughed as she ushered the couple out the door.

~ ~ ~

Much later in the day, back at Aldigard’s house, Pippin and Merry sat upon the porch swing and rocker having a mug and a pipe. Aldigard had gone inside to refill their mugs when Diamond ambled into their midst, taking a seat beside Pippin on the swing.

“Are we leaving tomorrow?” she asked, nestling up to Pip and watching him blow smoke rings into the air.

“Bright and early, lassie,” he quipped, placing his arm round her. “Merry’s getting homesick,” he whispered into Diamond’s ear in a jest.

“I suppose I am,” Merry admitted, talking round the pipe stem in his mouth. “I miss Kali running up to me when he sees me enter the parlour,” he smiled in thought, “he can’t really run very well, so it’s quite amusing to watch him. And Holly…she loves to jabber with anyone who’ll listen to her, though she can only say ‘mama’ so far.”

“And then there’s Stella,” Pippin said, smiling.

“Ah, yes,” Merry, too, smiled; his blue eyes twinkling with delight. “The most beautiful lass--”

“Ahem!” Pippin cleared his throat loudly.

“What?” Merry said almost innocently. He grinned, “Diamond is your most beautiful lass, and Stella is mine.”

Diamond lay her head against Pippin’s arm. “My auntie and uncle are dear to me as if they were my own parents,” she said, “but I can hardly wait to be home again.” She felt Pippin give her a tender squeeze.

“I think we all shall be glad to be home,” said Pippin.

* * *

“They’re here! They’re here!” shouted Tilby, running heedlessly through the Thain’s tunnel. He and little Hilly had stationed themselves at the Thain’s private entrance to sit on the bench to watch for his uncles’ coming. Upon seeing the tiny black speck in the hazy distance, Tilby knew it just had to be them. A courier from Bywater arrived at elevenses with a message that Pippin and the group had taken a short detour to visit friends, but should arrive at the Smials before supper.

Pimpernel came out of her apartment when she heard her child calling out. “What is it, Till?”

“Uncle Pippin and Miss Diamond are coming up the lane, Mum.”

“Go on, now, children,” she said to the lads, “You know what to do.” The children scampered off to perform their little task.

Viola was putting the final touch on supper for the Thain’s family when young mister Tilby and Hilly ran into the kitchen. Mistress Pervinca had stopped by earlier to tell her that Pippin would be returning about now, but said nothing in regard to whether Diamond was with him. Viola imagined Mistress Pervinca’s purpose was mainly to give a bit of instruction as to a special dessert that Mister Pippin liked. The tween wondered at this, as she’d been a part of the kitchen staff for years. Viola knew what every immediate family member liked and did not like. She looked at the shiny new bracelet on her left wrist; Viola wanted to share the news so badly with her dearest friend….but was she returning? Answering the lads when they called for her, Viola wiped her hands on her apron, asking, “What can I do for ye, mister Tilby?”

“My mum is asking to see you, Miss Viola. She wants to tell you something.”

Perplexed at the lads’ seemingly impulsive visit, Viola’s brow wrinkled, “Has it t’ do about supper?”

“We can’t tell you, Miss Viola,” young Hilly put in, “It’s a secret! Ow!” The wee child felt an elbow from his older brother.

“Honest, Miss Viola, we’re not trying to pinch apples this time. Mum told us to come get you.”

Viola gazed back at the large, simmering pot, “Blossom, could ye please watch my stew? Mrs. Brownfield is ask’n for me. Keep stirrin’ it ev’ry now an’ then,” she called over her shoulder as the children pulled her by the hand.

When Viola arrived in the Thain’s tunnel with Tilby and Hilly still leading her, there was a bit of commotion going on near the entrance. She stood off to the side as Mistress Estella welcomed Mr. Merry with a long, loving embrace, then put their baby daughter into his arms. Viola smiled; the love between the small family could be felt everywhere.

Next, she saw young mister Gelly step through the door, smiling proud at his mother. “Uncle Pippin made her read it right there in front of us, Mum,” Viola heard the lad tell his mother, “but after, she looked as if she didn’t care.” Viola saddened; perhaps Diamond wasn’t allowed to return. “I think it was all an act, though,” she heard Gelly finish, and then playfully shove his little brothers in greeting.

Cheers erupted when Pippin walked through the Thain’s door…accompanied by Diamond. Viola stifled a shout of joy, putting her hand to her mouth in astonishment, but she stood rooted where she was. After all, she wasn’t family; she was a servant.

“Come over here, Viola,” Pimpernel beckoned the tween, “and give a warm welcome to your friend.” Both Pervinca and Pimpernel had been privy to a certain bit of news of late, and knew Viola had been dying to share it with someone dear to her. Viola’s only sister had married last year and moved away from the Smials.

Viola moved cautiously toward the crowd of Tooks and relations patting Pippin on the back. “Viola!” cried Diamond, and then threw her arms round the lass. “Oh, I missed you!”

Viola smiled, then said, “I got worried this mornin’ when ye didn’t come home, an’ I heard some o’ the other servants sayin’ Mr. Pippin was comin’ home without ye. But I paid them no attention; Mr. Pippin has a firm mind when he has a purpose t’.”

Hearing those words, Pippin turned to the lass and grinned, “Are you saying I’m stubborn, Viola?” Everyone laughed, Merry shouted a resounding, “Yes! You’re as pigheaded as any Brandybuck I know.” Viola was thankful Mr. Merry interrupted and so didn’t have to answer the question.

“Are you including yourself, cousin?” Merimas shouted to Merry with a smile. “Remember, I’ve seen you at your finest, too.”

Diamond noticed the gold coloured chain on Viola’s wrist. “Where did that come from? Or should I be asking who?” Diamond grinned.

“Andy asked me t’ marry him yesterday!” Viola squealed. “Mistress Pervinca found me cryin’ in the kitchen b’cause I had no one t’ tell.”

“I’m happy for you!” Diamond also squealed her delight and hugged her friend.

“Oh!” Viola suddenly gasped, “I almost forgot supper!”

“What is for supper, Viola?” asked Pippin, his stomach growling.

“Mushroom and Potato stew,” she answered, then listed every delectable item on the menu.

“Lets all get our little ones cleaned up for supper, shall we?” Pearl announced to her siblings, her own mouth watering. “That is, before Pippin faints on us!” she winked at her brother.

While everyone meandered to their respective quarters, Diamond whispered to Pippin, “Do you mind if I walk Viola back to the kitchen? I think we have a lot to talk about!”

“Of course,” said Pippin, kissing her cheek, “See you at supper?”

“Yes,” Diamond smiled, “see you at supper.”

TBC

Chapter Twenty-five - Absolutely No Doubt

It had been nearly a week since their trip to Long Cleeve when Pippin stood before the plain brown door upon which the placard said, “Miss Diamond North-took”, and knocked. He heard humming on the other side and then some whispering…and then heard the inner adjacent door close. Pimpernel…, he thought.

“Good morning, Diamond,” he said when the door finally opened, however, the dweller did not immediately appear inside the entryway. Pippin gazed into Diamond’s room to search for the lass. He smiled when he spied her off to the side behind the door, obviously as a surprise for him. He then stepped inside.

“You look so,” he smiled wider, “…beautiful.”

“You like my new frock?” Diamond smiled in return, doing a pirouette. She wore a nice-looking green dress with yellow trim, and an apron over top to keep it looking nice.

“Oh,” Pippin now noticed the frock. “Your dress is pretty, too. I was just noticing both of your lovely brown eyes…how long your hair is when its not plaited.” His green eyes sparkled with affection and love, “You are indeed a stunning lass, Diamond.”

Diamond laughed, “You certainly are a charmer, buttering me up like that. Are you ready?”

Pippin said nothing, still gaping at the striking young lass; he only had eyes for her--he neither saw nor heard anything else round him.

Diamond was fairly amused. “Are those for me?” she asked, seeing the half-dozen red roses in Pippin’s hand, hand-picked from the north garden.

Returning to the present, Pippin replied, “They are,” then handed Diamond the roses.

She smiled, “They’re beautiful! Thank you, Pippin.” Diamond then took the bouquet, placing the freshly cut stems inside a drinking glass with water, then set it in the middle of her desk for all to see. She had been contemplating a special gift for Pippin, figuring this would be the best moment to give it to him.

“Pippin,” she began, “I very much want to thank you for all you have done to bring me back home.”

“But you have,” said Pippin, “many times.”

“Well…not properly,” she said, gently pulling him closer…and then kissed him. With all the anxiety of confronting her mother behind her, Diamond now felt relieved--a bit more at ease in truly expressing to Pippin her gratitude--and exactly how she felt about him. Diamond blushed when Pippin finally smiled, “I like the way you properly convey your gratefulness.” He held out his arm for her to take, “Perhaps in the future I ought to show the same degree of appreciation.”

Smiling, Diamond put her arm in his, strolling beside him as they made their way toward the Great Door. “You said that we’re going to picnic at your most favourite spot in all the Shire. Where is that?”

“Remember when I told you about Whitwell?” asked Pippin. When Diamond nodded, he replied, “There is a small stream not far from our little farm smial. As children, me, my sister, Pervinca, and cousin Merry played there after we were finished with our chores whenever we could.”

“A stream, you say?” Diamond enquired, though she didn’t seem nervous at all about the water.

“You like streams and rivers?” Pippin asked, holding the door open for his lass to pass through. They stepped out into the morning sunlight, birds chirping overhead in song while they waited for Mat to bring the trap up the lane.

“There is a stream not very far from my uncle Bart’s house,” said Diamond, “a small tributary of the river near Bindbole Wood. Years ago, Sapphira and I would run off with a sack filled with bread, cheese, and apples and have our own picnic whilst listening to the water run over the rocks.”

Pippin drank in that pleasant thought; of just lying in soft tufts of grass on a warm summer afternoon, relaxing to the sound of bubbly water. Maybe he could fit that into their day at some point. “That does sound lovely,” he said to her. “I thought perhaps we could have a wee ramble through the village, show you one of my father’s crop fields, and also the smial where I grew up. After that, we shall have a feast that only a hobbit could appreciate.”

Diamond smiled, “I’d love that.”

The steady clip-clop of the pony’s hooves was the only sound upon the lane as the couple rode toward Whitwell. Neither Pippin nor Diamond spoke much since leaving Great Smials. Diamond smiled, her heart swelling with love as she sat beside her lad, enjoying the trees and tranquil meadows that they passed. This--the Tookland--was now home to her. Though her days in Long Cleeve had been a tad difficult for her, every single day since the fair, she felt her love for Pippin growing each day. And for all those difficulties with her mother, they only served to increase and strengthen the relationship between her and Pippin. If they could face her mother and come away closer than ever before, then Diamond felt they could face just about anything together.

Pippin took note of the lass’s merry mood, her delightful smile…then felt her snuggle up to him. The lane would be straight for the final stretch, not taking much effort to guide the pony unless a rut came into their path, so Pippin wrapped his free arm round her. “We’re almost there,” he spoke tenderly. “We’ll stop first at the farm to unhitch the pony--to let him graze in the pasture. The village is little over a half-mile walk from there.”

“Do all the people still know you?”

“Oh, yes,” Pippin answered, “I’ve been back here plenty of times. Mr. Longsheaf still calls me a laddie--of course, he’s almost 100 years old now. Everybody’s a laddie to him. And we may just get a glimpse of mother’s old adversary, Mrs. Dingle--she’s almost 112.”

“Your mum’s adversary? Why?”

Pippin took in a deep, long breath before speaking. “Well, I suppose it all started a long way back--after Pervinca was born. It’s a long story, but I should venture to say that mother and Mrs. Dingle never did see eye to eye on a lot of matters even before that--mostly having to do with the village and the people who lived there.”

Diamond laughed, “I take it that Mrs. Dingle thought that she was the sole member of the village council?”

Pippin smiled, “Something like that. When word got round that father was to be the next Thain, suddenly Mrs. Dingle became very agreeable toward mother.”

“Is there anyone our age in Whitwell?” Diamond asked.

Laughing, Pippin answered, “I think so. Many stay behind because of the work farms provide, but some have removed to other parts of the Shire. As you’ll soon see, Whitwell is smaller than Long Cleeve. Erlow Weaver--the only lad in the village who was my age, took an apprenticeship in Stock to learn how to make soaps. And he is very successful at it.”

“I should hope so,” said Diamond, grinning, imagining the Shire full of scruffy-looking hobbits. As they turned onto a very narrow lane, she saw Pippin point toward a small hill…or, what appeared to be a hill.

Pippin stopped the trap just shy of the closed gate, getting down to open it. “We’re here,” he said, opening the gate. “This was my home for nigh unto thirteen years.”

“Does anyone live here now?”

“No,” he answered, hoisting himself back into the trap. “Pim let the place to a young couple who, for whatever reason last year, decided to go back to their own family in the Southfarthing. Pim is normally shrewd, but her heart sometimes overtakes her head. She said she suspected such when they made the agreement yet went ahead with it anyway.”

Diamond tenderly brushed away an errant lock from Pippin’s brow. “Your heart overtaking your head never happens to you, right?” She smiled when Pippin didn’t answer.

Pippin halted again when they came up to the paddock gate then halted the pony. After the pony had been unhitched and released to the pasture, Pippin took the hamper, indicating for Diamond to open the smial door. He walked inside, placing it upon the kitchen table. There was a bit of a chill inside the vacant smial. Pippin took a whiff of the musty air, taking a moment to let his hand glide over the rough, dusty surface of the table, memories--both good and not so good--filling his thought. This was where all family discussions took place, where all meals were taken. Where he would playfully kick Merry under the table and get away with it. He missed those days, and yet, they made him desire all the more of having his own family.

“You ate here,” Diamond mused out loud, looking about the kitchen. In the corner she spied the sideboard where the Thain’s Mistress once stored her dishes and crocks, the hearth--presently dark and cold--that had boiled the tea for Pippin’s family, cooked their meals, and warmed the toes of little ones. The infamous larder that at one time contained Pippin’s favourite snack: apples.

“I did…I mean, we did take our meals here,” he said in response, then the inner, young lad resurfaced. Pippin excitedly recounted where members of his family sat at the kitchen table. “My father sat right here at the head--and mother next to him. Pearl always sat next to mother--and I always sat next to my father. Mostly because I would misbehave in some rude manner, but supper had always been my favourite time of the day to eat here.”

“After all these years,” said Diamond, walking about the kitchen, “it still feels like a home--as if…a loving family once lived here, their spirits lingering.” Inwardly, tween wished that she, too, had been raised in such a loving home.

Pippin’s eyes glistened when he looked over to the lass that he was quite certain he would spend the rest of his life with. “Want to see the rest?”

* * *

Diamond lay upon her tummy on the picnic blanket happily munching an apple. She and Pippin had a rather lengthy discussion inside the farm smial; things about when he was a young lad, his hiding places, growing up with three sisters. It slowly grew to include his cousin Merry, the many pranks and visits to Bag End…Frodo and Sam. Then the discourse evolved toward the Conspiracy…and the Quest. She and Pippin had talked for well over two hours before they decided it was too late now to walk to the village and back. The twosome went ahead with their picnic, finding a lovely spot in the tall heather near the stream.

Presently, Diamond lay there nibbling at her apple watching Pippin doze. He looked so peaceful lying across the blanket, eyes closed in slumber. Yes, the water rushing over the rocks could be quite soothing, however, Diamond wasn’t through asking Pippin questions about his Journey. After all, he did say that he was at her disposal for questions…and he’d been napping now for close to an hour. Diamond leaned back, plucking a long stem from the heather. She held forth the green frond until the tip rested lightly upon Pippin’s nose. Diamond quietly giggled at Pippin swatting an imaginary fly. She next let it touch his forehead. Diamond smiled with delight as Pippin brushed aside his curls. Once more, she let the long, thin stem with a wee yellow flower rest upon his nose, but her aim was off. Instead, it landed on his lips.

“Ack!” Pippin instantly woke. He sat up, wiping his lips with his hands, thinking a fly had landed on them. Then saw Diamond’s mischievous gleam in her eyes…and the frond in her hand. “You!” he laughed, “I should have known!”

“I’m not finished with you yet,” said Diamond. “You asked for a tongue-rest after…,” Diaimond narrowed her eyes in thought, “I think it was when your cousin Frodo went off alone to think. What happened--what did he decide to do?”

“He decided to go on alone without us,” said Pippin, but we caught on to his plans. Unfortunately, not soon enough, though. The rest of us ran off in different directions looking for him…but we didn’t find him. The Uruk-hai found us, though.” Pippin went on to explain that the creature she had seen in Merry’s drawing, was indeed one of these.

Diamond shuddered, unable to imagine herself outside of the Shire borders, let alone confronted with such a monstrous being.

Pippin was silent for a long moment, gathering his thoughts as how to best proceed without frightening the lass too terribly. Yet…Diamond was the one who said she wanted to hear every detail about his life-changing journey. He recounted their capture; his voice filling with emotion when describing Boromir’s last stand. He went on to tell of his experience upon waking. “I was cold and sick…our hands and feet were bound tightly with cords that cut into our skin. They made us run much of the way toward Isengard while using a whip to make us keep up,” he said, “or when our legs failed, they’d carried us like sacks and I would fall into dark dreams.”

Diamond gazed sorrowfully at Pippin’s wrists, seeing discoloured marks upon his skin. “Are those from the cords?” she asked.

Pippin nodded while wiping his eyes. “They’re very private, the wounds; I don’t show them to just anyone.”

“I know that, which makes them even more special.” Diamond replied in a softer tone, taking his hand in hers. She let her fingers lightly glide over the indentations that marked his skin.

“Yours is special, too,” he said, noting the reddish scar near her left eye.

Diamond shook her head, “No--not like these. I wasn’t captured by wicked beasts and dragged across foreign lands.”

Pippin looked at Diamond in amazement. “You--you actually do believe me.”

Diamond shrugged, “Of course I do. Don’t others?”

“Usually, I get the feeling that most people merely nod in agreement while never really grasping the true reason behind the Quest, and would rather I tell a much more pleasant aspect of our adventure,” Pippin answered. “My family, bless them--they try their best to understand, but even they find it difficult to comprehend everything.”

“How does that make you feel?” Diamond asked with genuine concern. She scooted over to sit beside Pippin as he thought about his answer.

“It makes me feel…that sometimes folk believe the Quest was of no value,” he finally said in reply. “But I can’t blame them--they really didn’t know about the danger they were in, and most still don’t know--and never will. Everyone else was back here in the Shire being bullied by ruffians. What used to anger me after we first returned was when certain fools would call Frodo Mad Baggins. When we reached the Green Dragon, one of the ruffians called Frodo a ‘cock-a-whoop’.” Pippin added with a far away note in his voice, “That squint-eyed fellow almost died that hour for his impudence.” Pippin was silent for a moment as his thought strayed to that time. “Well,” he said after a minute, looking at Diamond beside him, “Now you know why Merry and I hide our scars.”

Diamond could tell that Pippin wanted to wrap-up things. It was now mid-afternoon and getting on towards tea. She started to put their plates and cups into the hamper. “That does answer a few things,” Diamond remarked, recalling when she first met Mr. Merry, how he held his baby son in his arms just so, so that his wrists were covered up. “But you don’t have to do that with me.”

“I don’t think I will be,” said Pippin as he helped her gather the silverware. He looked at the tween with a sparkle in his eye, “You’re different, Diamond. “There is no one else in the Shire like you.” Pippin stopped in his gathering, took the sweet lass in his arms, giving her a tender kiss. His heart skipped a beat as he felt her respond. Then again…she did “properly” thank him earlier.

His mind was made up.

Absolutely no doubt in his mind…

Diamond was the one.

After a while, the young couple picked up their picnic hamper and headed for home.

TBC

A/N: One more chapter left!

I hate it when I lie… I promise the next chapter is the last! I hope to update again either later today or tomorrow at the latest--I am behind on reviews and reading, but I really want to finish this as much as possible today. Thank you for your patience!

Chapter Twenty Six - Trouble in Paradise

And so they had many such picnics throughout the rest of the summer, enjoying them mostly in “their” most favourite spot in all the Shire: at Whitwell near the stream. With each subsequent trip to the farm, Pippin and Diamond would clean up the inside the smial just a little bit more, or inside the barn as a surprise for Pimpernel’s big move in Rethe. By late Halimath, the twosome had a small fire going in the kitchen’s hearth to take tea breaks and cook a little bit while they were there.

As autumn came upon the Shire, the Tookland had a great yield of crops with much celebration, as was Paladin’s custom after the harvest of his own fields; a gesture of appreciation toward the workers who laboured long and hard throughout the spring and summer. Pippin and Diamond also enjoyed a hayride with his family, complete with hot apple cider--apple juice for the children.

In late Blotmath, when the colourful leaves of autumn had forsaken all tree limbs in preparation for winter, Pippin had much on his mind. One afternoon, as he and Diamond took a ride through the lanes round Tuckborough, he carefully broached the subject of yet another trip to Bree. Pippin had travelled to Bree previously in late Lithe, offering the opportunity and enough time for his plans to take shape. At that time, Diamond was none the wiser, as Pippin declared to her that he was on business with the Thain’s Hobbitry-in-arms, and….in a roundabout way he was.

After the Battle of Bywater, the Thain observed that each Farthing was in need of a small contingent of Hobbitry-in-arms, ready in time of need--however infrequent that need might be. It was Pippin’s responsibility to go round to each of the Farthings and train these volunteer hobbits in basic defence tactics, such as with rakes, hoes, rocks, or slingshots--typical weapons for a hobbit or hobbit-farmer. The Thain bestowed the task of this exercise upon his young heir, being a Knight of the High King, and already held in high esteem by many hobbits due to the Battle, thus afforded utmost respect. Under normal circumstances, it would take a fortnight to complete. Under other circumstances, as in an extended schedule--to Bree, it would take every bit of three weeks and more. Pippin always ended with the Eastfarthing, thereafter taking the occasion to visit with his kin in Buckland. However, this time, he went on to Bree--with cousins Merry and Freddy along for companionship.

This second trip to Bree would not be in conjunction with training the Hobbitry-in-arms, as this was done only twice a year. Neither were Merry and Freddy coming along for mere companionship. This is where he broached the subject to Diamond with caution. Three days ago, reports came in of a group of men troubling hobbit-peddlers travelling along the East Road between the Shire and Bree. Pippin knew that they were more than likely a surviving faction of the same ruffians he and Merry routed out of the Shire years before.

“You want to go to Bree--again?” Diamond asked with consternation. Her breath drifting behind them in small tendrils of vapour. She wrapped her cloak tighter round herself. “What for? I’ve heard tell that there are highwaymen lying in wait for unwary travelling hobbits just like yourself.” All Diamond could imagine was terror and misfortune befalling her dearest hobbit.

“Both Freddy and Merry are coming with me, and I think Berilac might be joining us as well. We’ll only be gone a week this time,” he tried to assure her. “We’ve dealt with ruffians before, Diamond.” Too much was at stake with this particular trip; Pippin had to make it to Bree within the next week before the hired dwarf returned to the Misty Mountains for the winter. Pippin’s last trip to Bree was more of a mission; he wanted to purchase a very special gift, custom made just for his favourite lass--and made by the Dwarves, no less. This gift was five months in the making--and highwaymen were not going to hold him back.

“But why must you go now?” she asked him, “Can’t this wait until somebody handles the situation?”

“That somebody ought to be me,” Pippin said, thinking maybe this would be a better approach. “I am the King’s messenger, a Knight in his service. Who else, better than me, to deal with these troublemakers?”

Diamond indeed was anxious over the issue; she did not feel confident about Pippin travelling the road at this time--King’s Knight or not. She frowned, “I wish you would stay put until things settled down instead of putting your life at risk over nothing.”

“I am not putting my life at risk over nothing,” Pippin replied stubbornly. He knew Diamond was unaware of her ‘special gift’, but he felt the gift was definitely worth fighting for, if not dying for (in effigy to Diamond). To defend his proposed actions, Pippin’s thought back to a couple days ago, when his sister Pimpernel thought that Diamond might like to accompany her and her mother on one of their charity commitments. “It’s no worse than you entering Mrs. Smallburrow’s hobbit-hole while she and all three of her children are sick. You should never had entered their dwelling--from what I understand, there was a healer on the way. You could catch an illness merely by being round the children.”

“I don’t think so,” Diamond answered with the same persistence as he did a few seconds ago. She, too, defended her position in caring for the young widow’s children. “Besides, I didn’t see anyone else running to aid them with food or blankets. The healer was over a mile away and on foot. Those children were cold and crying--not to mention they hadn’t eaten since the day before--and that every cupboard was bare. All those illnesses you endured while a child ought to give you compassion for them instead of contempt.”

“My compassion was offered to Mrs. Smallburrow in the form of an apartment and employment at Great Smials,” Pippin replied tersely, “Both of which she rejected.”

“She wasn’t ready to let go!” Diamond was getting cross. “You lads think that everything is so easy--and its not! Her husband had only passed away a mere month prior to your offer.”

Pippin reaction mirrored Diamond’s. “So when was I supposed to offer it to her? When her youngest daughter reached her tweens and went off on an apprenticeship?”

“Don’t be flippant,” Diamond narrowed her eyes at Pippin.

“I am not being flippant, just truthful,” Pippin snapped back.

“We’re getting nowhere with this conversation,” said Diamond, sighing with frustration. “I don’t know what visiting Mrs. Smallburrow has to do with you travelling to Bree. I am not putting my life in danger needlessly.”

“And neither am I,” Pippin said coolly, turning up the lane toward the Smials. “We’re getting somewhere all right--we’re getting back home.”

At the Great Door, Pippin got down from the trap, handing the reins over to Mat to take it and the pony back to the stables. Pippin saw that Diamond had not waited for him as was her usual custom. “Where are you going?” he shouted down the tunnel--thankfully, it was the Thain’s private tunnel, however, his family could hear every scrap of the “conversation”.

“I’m going to quarantine myself in my room!” she replied tearfully, “It appears it doesn’t matter what I think of you going to Bree--you’re going to go anyway. So why did you even ask? Has it occurred to you that you might not return to me?” With that, Diamond opened her door and shut it firmly.

Pippin felt the bite of Diamond’s words--although his Tookish stubbornness grew stronger, taking some of the sting away. He walked into his own room, slamming the door behind him.

Not a sound could be heard inside the Thain’s tunnel.

* * *

Two days later, Pippin, Merry, Fredegar, and Berilac were riding at a fast pace toward the East Road. Once upon the Road, they would bring their ponies to a trot and then walk them for a bit. They had left Brandy Hall that morning, galloping in spurts toward the road that would take them to Bree. While they rode, Merry took note of Pippin’s dour mood, wondering what had put him there. He looked up at the grey, wintry clouds that carried possibly a cold rain or the season’s first snow. Pondering this, he felt something wet upon his nose as his eyes adjusted to the diffused light of the clouds overhead, he saw it was a snowflake.

“It’s snowing,” Freddy announced as he held out an upturned hand. He pulled out his flask of brandy to celebrate--and warm his toes.

“Yulemath’s first snow,” remarked Merry, pulling up alongside Pippin.

“Foreyule’s first snow,” Pippin corrected, still in his foul humour.

“No…it’s Yulemath,” Freddy said while grinning. “Two Bucklanders and an Eastfarthing hobbit--I think you’re out-voted, cousin.” He then got the distinct feeling that Merry wanted to speak with Pippin. Freddy had also detected a slightly ill-tempered Pippin while they rode. “Well, suit yourself,” he said when Pippin rolled his eyes, “Snow is snow, whether it falls in the Eastfarthing or the West. I’m going to catch up with Berry.”

Merry waited a respectable minute while Freddy rode on before taking on the task of interrogating the young, future Thain. “Well?” he finally spoke.

Pippin gave surly sideways glance at his cousin. “Well, what?”

“Something’s been eating at you since breakfast this morning,” said Merry. “So I am asking what is bothering you?”

“Nothing is bothering me,” answered Pippin.

“That a lie from the pits of Mordor, and you know it,” said Merry, hoping to spur his cousin into divulging his secret pain. “I am asking with genuine interest, Pip. You know that you are my dearest friend--aside from my lovely Stella, and I care about you.”

Pippin stared straight ahead, his thoughts a pool of emotions. Taking in a deep, long breath he blurted what had been on his mind since leaving the Smials. “Diamond and I had an argument.”

Merry pursed his lips, silently nodding at the revelation. “She didn’t want you to travel, I take it.”

“She doesn’t understand, Merry,” Pippin began ranting, “She thinks it’s all right for herself to be round sick children--ill with an unknown plague, yet when I mentioned that I was travelling to Bree--with three other hobbits, she baulked at the idea.” He went on to give full account of the disagreement.

“I don’t think either one of you are understanding one another,” said Merry.

“Excuse me?”

“What is Diamond, may I ask?”

“An obstinate lass…,” Pippin muttered sarcastically. “I don’t know--what are you getting at?”

Merry tried rephrasing his query. “What does she do for a living?”

“She watches over children,” Pippin answered, then quickly added, “but that should have nothing to do with her actions.”

“It has everything to do with her actions, Pippin,” Merry said, then explained further. “She is a childminder--taught to put the needs of children above her own--and that is exactly what she did. In theory, what if those were your children crying in the doorway hungry and cold?” Pippin fell into silent thought, so Merry continued on. “Diamond also needs to learn that you have other responsibilities in addition to being her intended--that is, assuming she says ‘yes’.” Pippin wore a forlorn expression on his face. “Cheer up, cousin,” Merry said with a smile, “You’re both going to be fine.”

* * *

“Mum, I think Miss Diamond is still asleep,” Gelly informed his mother while she helped Hilly dress for breakfast. His instructions were to knock on the lass’s door, but not to enter. If she was up and stirring about, she’d answer the door, if not then that meant Diamond was still abed. Usually Diamond rose before anyone else in order to help the younger children prepare for the day. However, Gelly’s news did not surprised Pim; the poor lass stayed quietly in her room throughout the day before, coming out only for meals. Like the rest of the family, they overheard the cross words that the couple exchanged in the hallway the other night.

Pimpernel gently pulled her eldest toward the youngest, standing to her feet, “Help your brother attach his braces to the back of breeches while I go and see about Miss Diamond.”

Inside the small room, the lantern burned low upon Diamond’s beside table while the tween appeared buried beneath her ruffled quilt.

“I know you’re awake, Diamond,” Pimpernel spoke softly. “You can’t hide inside your room forever, dear.”

“A fortnight will do,” Diamond finally replied after a long moment, sounding very nasal.

Pimpernel sat gently upon the bedside, pulling back a bit of the quilt revealing Diamond’s puffy red eyes and nose. “Is this what you’re going to do every time you and Pip have a disagreement, hmm?”

“It wasn’t just any disagreement, Mrs. Brownfield,” Diamond wiped her eyes, “he accused me of purposely putting my life in danger--and then off he goes to Bree while brigands lie in wait along the road for travellers.”

“The road has never been completely safe, Diamond,” answered Pim. “I remember many tales when I was a little lass about Big Folk being seen upon the road, or terrible deeds taking place there. I remember being fearful for my father when he travelled to Michel Delving for trade.”

“I told him I didn’t want him to go,” said Diamond.

Pim smiled warmly at the upset tween. “I think the Valar had a hand in this love match,” she said while combing the long, curly tresses behind Diamond’s ear. “Or, at least, Pippin has met his match in stubbornness.”

“What if he’s attacked?” Diamond couldn’t hold her tears any longer and sobbed.

“Hush, lass,” Pim whispered, helping Diamond to sit up, taking her into a gentle hug. “The both of you are so obstinate that you can’t see what the other is pointing at. Yes, Diamond, if your mistress failed to tell you--which I doubt, then I must inform you that whenever you enter a home where sick children abide, you are liable to catch whatever they are carrying. You knew the healer was on her way, but you went inside anyway.”

“But the children…,” Diamond sniffled, resting her weary head upon Pimpernel’s shoulder.

“It was very nice what you did, going inside to comfort the children,” Pimpernel said soothingly, “That is what you were taught to do, but, Diamond love, there isn’t just you to think about anymore.”

“I suppose I’m not used to considering another person in my life,” said Diamond, taking the handkerchief Pimpernel offered.

“I know that,” said Pim, “however, for the foreseeable future, I think Pip deserves some, don’t you think?” Diamond nodded. Pim continued, “I know everything happed quickly at Mrs. Smallburrow’s that you barely had time to think, but in the future you’re going to have to give yourself that time in order to weigh your options better. And as for Pippin…”

Diamond gazed up at Pimpernel, waiting for her next words.

“Pippin must learn to do the same, however…” said Pim, her words tinged with a bit of sadness, “we must also remember that Pippin doesn’t exactly belong to just us anymore. He also belongs to the rest of the Shire--to the Big People in the south, even. We tend to forget that he is a Knight--a trained soldier of the High King and must therefore share him with the rest of the world. That means, when troubles come to the Shire or anywhere else in the king’s realm, Pippin must be ready to defend it. Do you understand what I am saying, Diamond?”

Diamond nodded. “I understand everything you have said and more,” she answered without giving away that Pippin had told her virtually every detail of his journey, “but what I don’t like is him travelling a dangerous road for a joy ride to Bree. He isn’t on King’s business, so this trip isn’t necessary.”

“Not exactly,” said Pim, her heart cringing at the wee lie she was about to tell. “Pippin is on an errand of secrecy--the Thain couldn’t go himself so he sent his heir.” Pimpernel prayed that this itty bitty lie wouldn’t snowball into something she couldn’t control. She wasn’t all that good at lying--except to Pervinca, and that was only to tease her.

“Why didn’t he just say so?” said Diamond.

“He, umm…,” Pimpernel thought quickly, “He didn’t want to worry you--you know, with those highwaymen loitering about.”

Diamond pondered Pippin’s “reasoning” while Pimpernel answered the knock upon the adjacent door. She heard the lads asking their mother about breakfast.

“The children are hungry,” Diamond said after Pim spoke with the lads. “I don’t wish to eat breakfast with the family this morning--if that’s all right, Mrs. Brownfield.”

“I thought as much,” said Pimpernel, once again sitting upon the edge of Diamond’s bed. The tween’s eyes and nose were still puffy and red. “That’s why I told Gelly to go on ahead to the dining room and ask the server to bring you a tray. Perhaps when you’re feeling better, we can have a bit of tea out in the garden with mother while the lads play.” Pim patted Diamond’s hand, trying her best to give a cheery smile, “Do try to rest up a bit.”

Sometime later, Diamond heard yet another knock upon her door. Who could it be this time?, she wondered, pulling herself out from under the toasty blankets. As soon as her feet touched the floor, a chill ran through her and up her arms. Diamond put on her nightcoat to appropriately dress for visitors. “Poppy,” Diamond said rather sluggishly, her eyes adjusting to the light. “What is the time?”

“It’s past ten o’clock, Miss Diamond,” Poppy answered her friend. “I have a favour to ask, if you please.”

Past ten o’clock? But she only fell asleep just a few minutes ago… “What is it?” Diamond asked.

“Miss Nina, who works in the laundry room, asked that I bring back some of Mr. Pippin’s things when I took the Thain’s and the Mistress’s clean laundry.” Poppy leaned in to whisper, “I don’t feel right goin’ inside his room without someone bein’ there--if you know what I mean.”

Diamond smiled in spite of the fact that she felt achy and sleepy. “I will go inside with you, though his entire family trusts you, I daresay. If they didn’t, you wouldn’t be working so closely with them.”

“Thank you, Miss Diamond!” Poppy exhaled the breath she was holding. “I tried Mrs. Brownfield’s door, but no one answered. I think they went out to the garden.”

“Yes, I suppose they did,” Diamond remarked, following Poppy inside Pippin’s room across the hall. Diamond felt so fatigued that she sat at Pippin’s desk while Poppy laid the clean clothes neatly inside the wardrobe. As she did so, Diamond happened to look down at Pippin’s schedule tablet and locked her eyes on one particular entry: “Sterday, Foreyule 3, Meet Dori at Bree”.

Initially, the fog in Diamond’s head didn’t grasp what she had read, and then suddenly it all was clear. Pippin was meeting another lass in Bree! Diamond let out the most pitiful whimper.

“What is it, Miss Diamond?” asked Poppy, putting away the last of Pippin’s shirts.

It took Diamond a few seconds to regain her composure. “N-nothing…just…I’m not feeling so good.”

“Let me help you back to your room,” said Poppy, taking her friend by the arm. “You are quite warm,” Poppy observed as she walked beside the Diamond. “I’m going to fetch Mrs. Brownfield.”

TBC…oy!

Chapter Twenty Seven - What the Future Beholds

Four young hobbits sat by themselves at a table inside The Prancing Pony having an early supper. Pippin had met with Dori while his cousins and Berry shopped for unique Yule gifts found only in Bree, or purchased from merchants who hailed from as far away as the Misty Mountains to the east or Lond Daer in the southwest. Afterward, Pippin did his own Yule shopping, meeting up with his friends at the town’s inn. Beside each hobbit on the benches were sacks filled with whatever toy or frill they could buy from the friendlier tradesmen for their loved ones back home in Shire.

“Let’s have another look at it,” said Berry. He grinned, remembering his first view of Pippin’s trinket.

While Pippin obliged, digging deep into his breeches pocket, Merry cautiously glanced about the common room. “Not here,” he said to Pippin. “Let’s look at it when we get back to our room.”

As eager as he was to show off his most precious gift, Pippin let go of the little box in his pocket; he, too, gazed about at some of the more sinister-looking folk. “Sorry, Berry, I have to agree with Merry--I’ll be happy to show it to you in our room.”

Fredegar was somewhat indignant that they could not indulge themselves with a look at Pippin’s gift from where they sat. “Sharkey didn’t spare Bree when he sent out his ruffians to bully hobbits,” he commented, “One should think that Bree-folk would be a bit more discerning about who they let inside their gates.”

“Some people never learn,” Merry replied and then drained his mug. “I’m going to find Nob while you lads take your sacks to the room. Berry--will you see to mine?” Merry didn’t mention anything about his suspicions, not wanting to worry his friends, but he wished to talk to Nob about the goings-on in Bree of late. Hopefully, he’d find out some information about the recent incidents on the East Road.

Merry signalled Pippin with a slight nod as to his intentions; Pippin responded with a near imperceptible nod of his own. There were plenty of folk in the common room that reminded Merry of Bill Ferny. If Merry found out anything important, he would pull Pippin aside later to share it.

“What was that all about?” Freddy asked Pippin, grinning as the group headed toward their room. “Something’s going on between you two.” He was indeed perceptive enough to notice the unspoken language between Merry and Pippin that his they developed over the years. Actually, it was something that had emerged while the young Knights worked closely together to chase the ruffians out of the Shire, subsequently perfected while on duty in the south and training for their respective positions.

Pippin wasn’t so sure if he should answer Freddy directly--fearing he’d upset Berry. At least Freddy was seasoned in the way of leading a band of hobbits in a rebellion. Pippin answered as best he could. “Merry’s curious about some things and so he’s going to make a few inquiries to an old friend of ours.”

The following morning, the foursome rose early and ate breakfast in their room. Soon after, they were mounted up on their ponies, packs tied securely to their saddles. “I can’t wait to get home and sit with a pipe in front of the hearth with a roaring fire,” said Freddy, shivering from the morning frost. The snow that fell on their way to Bree did not stay, melting soon after it landed on the not yet frozen ground.

“Me, too,” said Pippin, climbing into the saddle upon Shadow, his chestnut pony.

“You speak for all of us,” said Merry, seated upon Stybba. After talking with Nob the evening before, his only wish was for all of them to make it safely back to the Shire. Merry was afraid that he and the rest were not very discreet about their shopping spree, unintentionally inviting trouble on the way home.

As they left the courtyard of the inn, none saw the cloaked figures moving quietly in the shadows.

* * *

Pimpernel filled Diamond’s empty glass with fresh water from the pitcher then set it upon the nightstand. Again, she sat down on the edge of the bed to see about the young tweenager hidden deep beneath the quilt. “I’ve brought you more water,” she spoke softly.

No answer.

“Diamond lass, there’s more going on here than mere illness. Donnabelle said your fever would run its course in a few days. You’ll feel much better then.” Pim sighed, “She also said that something else is troubling you, though you won’t say anything to her about it.”

Silence.

“Diamond…”

Diamond turned to face Pim, her cheeks flushed from fever and crying. “He doesn’t love me anymore,” she whispered. “He…he’s meeting with a lass in Bree. That is why he wanted to go there.”

“What makes you say that?” Pim asked, wondering what brought this on.

“I just know.”

“Tell me how you came upon this,” Pim asked firmly, giving the lass a handkerchief from her own nightstand.

Diamond explained to Pimpernel how she ended up inside Pippin’s room with Poppy. “I saw her name written in his tablet. Dori is her name,” she said, then added, “I wonder what drew Pippin to this lass.”

Mithril, Pim wanted to answer the lass, but didn’t. Instead, she replied, “It isn’t another lass, Diamond,” Pim tried to explain--without giving too much away. “Trust me on this. My brother wouldn’t do that to you--not to someone whom he’s professed to love with all his heart.” 

“How do you know this?”

Pim sighed, “Because I know my own brother--and I happen to know that Dori is a Dwarf--a male Dwarf. He’s a merchant from the Misty Mountains who stays in Bree for brief periods.”

“Really?” asked Diamond, feeling a little bit better, and utterly disappointed with herself for not trusting Pippin’s love. “I am sorry for jumping to conclusions. I suppose that bit of heartache was my just reward for reading his tablet.”

“I would agree with that assessment,” said Pimpernel, then gently tweaked Diamond’s nose, “Pippin doesn’t love anyone else--he loves you.”

Diamond smiled, thinking long and hard about what Pimpernel said, then asked, “But why is Pippin meeting with a Dwarf?”

* * *

Riding along the East Road, the four hobbits would look over their shoulders at the travellers that had been following them for a few miles. They were still mere specks in the distance, but neither Pippin nor Merry wanted to take any chances.

Freddy was also being sharp. “What do you think?” he asked Merry. “Should we make a run for it, or ready ourselves?”

“No,” replied Merry, fingering his silver horn tied to his baldric, “Let’s wait until they’re closer to ready ourselves--and as for running, we’re not even at the halfway point yet; we’d only end up tiring our ponies. Let’s save their strength for when we have the need.”

Pippin threw another glance down the road, wondering in his own mind if these were the notorious ruffians harassing other hobbits. “We should at least pick up the pace a bit.”

“Aye,” Freddy concurred with Pippin, then looked to the future Master.

“Agreed,” Merry said, then flicked the reins of his pony.

Berilac stayed quiet; he was in no way eager to meet up with any ruffians. However, he wasn’t terribly afraid of them, either. After seeing first-hand the way they mistreated the hobbits in Buckland--some who were very closely related to him, Berry wondered if retribution would be nearer to his hand this day.

For the next few miles, Pippin kept a wary eye over his shoulder as they travelled up the East Road. The distant figures kept the same pace as Pippin and his friends. Pippin did not like the looks of things.

“Merry, this isn’t--” Pippin didn’t get to finish his sentence; two horses with riders appeared out of nowhere from between a coppice of evergreens twenty feet ahead blocking their path.

“Well lookee here what we got, Gorn!” said the first highwayman, appearing to be the leader. He sneered, looking the hobbits up and down then eyed the sacks filled with gifts, “We got us a well-off bunch of Shire rats!”

“We’re goin’ to take those off yer hands,” said Gorn, starting toward Merry’s sack.

Merry backed away, loosening the sword in his scabbard. “Leave us alone and let us pass!”

Pippin cast another glance behind him; the once distant travellers were now racing toward the group, a plume of dust in their wake. He turned his full attention to this new threat while Merry dealt with the two highwaymen. Berilac followed Pippin’s gaze, taking his sling and a large rock out of his saddlebag.

Freddy stayed beside Merry, his hand resting upon the pocket that held his own slingshot. Without much thought, Merry took his silver horn in his hand and blew it hard three times. The highwaymen quailed at the sound of the blasts, putting their hands to their ears. Merry now unsheathed his sword. Fredegar Bolger took out and readied his slingshot.

This was unheard of by the ruffians; no other hobbits they attacked on this road carried lethal weapons. They shrank back at the sight of Merry’s sword for a few seconds before brandishing their own cudgels with renewed courage.

Pippin and Berilac waited as the following travellers approached from the rear. Pippin had also loosened his sword and now held it aloft in his quivering hand. His whole body was quaking with expectation of battle.

Berry loaded his sling in anticipation of using it. He started swinging it about in his hand when the riders were but a hundred feet away. Then Pippin caught sight of what the travellers wore as they drew nearer. “Stop!”

Berry thought Pippin was shouting to the travellers--who seemed to ignore his friend, so he reared up to let loose his missile.

“Berry--no!” Pippin made to grab Berilac’s weapon mid-swing--not a wise move, but the best one under the circumstances. As Pippin pulled on Berry’s arm to stay his shot, the winding sling swung back…smacking Pippin in his right eyebrow. The sky spun round overhead…then darkness engulfed him.

--}----- --}-----             -----}-- -----}--

“So,” said Diamond, lying back upon her pillows while Pimpernel plied at the layers of lies she fabricated over the past few days in order to preserve Pippin’s true purpose in going to Bree. “You say that this one-legged, one-eyed dwarf who has twenty children is a toy maker from the Misty Mountains?”

“Yes, and Pippin goes to visit him round this time every year to purchase toys for the lads at Yule,” Pim replied nervously, not bringing herself to look the tween in the eyes. “Dori’s family relies on Pippin’s patronage to carry them through the next year.”

“Really?” Diamond asked with astonishment. “What sort of toys has Pippin purchased in years past?”

“Uh…,” Pim stammered. She was thinking as fast as her furry feet would allow her. “Um…he’s…bought Hilly a music box…”

“That’s lovely!” Diamond smiled. “I love music boxes! Mrs. Oatbarton had a one that her husband purchased for her from a peddler at the Brandywine Bridge. May I see Hilly’s?”

“After you’ve taken a nap,” said Pim, getting up to tuck in the blankets. “Your fever only broke this morning, so I want you to rest as much as possible before Pippin’s return tomorrow.”

“All right,” said Diamond, snuggling underneath her quilt. “But I should like a look at Hilly’s music box afterward, if you please.”

“Very well,” answered Pim, taking her leave, “I’ll see what I can do.” Outside Diamond’s room, Pimpernel leaned against the wall of the little hallway in her apartment wiping the sweat from her brow. Her thoughts went back to seven years ago, when Pippin essentially came back from the dead, chasing ruffians out of the Shire, bearing great tidings of the king in the south, and the finest gifts from the White City where he lived for a few months. How am I going to explain to mother that I need to ‘borrow’ her most cherished gift in order to cover the biggest ruse I’ve ever put on in my life?

Inside Diamond’s room, the tween lay comfortably beneath her covers with a mischievous grin on her face. Now I know she’s lying! She suspected the tale of the one-legged dwarf with twenty children to feed was a fable, but Diamond had been the lads’ Minder for over six months now and knew Hilly had no such toy. The young lass snickered softly as she pondered her mistress’s tangled web of lies.

The following day, it was nearing suppertime when Pimpernel walked into the family parlour and found Diamond leaning against the sill of the great window overlooking the fields to the northeast. It didn’t afford the best view of the lanes coming directly from the east, but to Diamond, it was better than sulking in her room.

“You’ve been in here for most of the day, Diamond,” said Pim, observing the tween from the doorway. “Standing there isn’t going to make his return any quicker.”

Diamond sighed, fogging the part of the window where she stood. “He should have been here by now. You said he’d arrive sometime after tea.”

“Sometimes things don’t go as planned,” Pim answered, draping a lap quilt over the tween’s shoulders. “You should still be abed until tomorrow at least. Healer’s orders, remember?”

“I’m worried about him,” said Diamond, “I can’t sleep, sit, nor lay about in bed until I know that he’s safe.”

“Well, that does it, then,” said Pim, letting out a long breath.

Diamond turned to face her mistress. “Does what?”

“It seems I’ll just have to ask Viola to bring another tray,” said Pim, fluffing up the lap pillows on the couch. “I may as well keep you company.”

* * *

A lone rider sped along the Stock road, leaving Buckland far behind and heading west. He knew he would be late and worried how his tardiness would appear to his loved ones. There wasn’t a choice; he was forced to slow down at times in order for his pony to rest, but otherwise, the hobbit raced as fast as he could toward home.

* * *

Before long, a clamour was heard in the doorway leading into the parlour. Diamond turned from her vigil at the window to see not only Viola entering with a large cart laden with huge platters of food, but following her inside the room was Pimpernel, her lads, the Thain and the Mistress.

“We couldn’t allow you to wait all alone, dear,” said Eglantine.

“It’s almost completely dark outside ,” Diamond remarked glumly, pulling herself away from the windowsill. “I wouldn’t be able to see him anyway.”

Eglantine slipped an arm round Diamond’s waist, taking the lass toward the couch to sit. “We’re worried about him, too,” she said, “so we’re all going to sit here and wait with you.”

Diamond had not expected such a gesture from the family and so was touched by their compassion. She rested her weary head upon Eglantine’s shoulder, tears brimming in her eyes. Oh, how she wished these were her parents and sister! Diamond loved Sapphira very much, but she was far away in the Northfarthing.

Just as supper was served and about to start, everyone heard a door shut out in the tunnel with heavy footfalls echoing as the person passed by the parlour. The doors at the end of each tunnel were left open in the warmer months to aid the circulation of air, but closed in the cold, wintry months.

Thinking his family would be eating supper in the same room they did every evening, Pippin entered the dining room, however, he discovered that it was empty. Baffled, and hoping nothing was amiss, he walked back into the hallway and knocked on Pim’s apartment door. “Hullo? Where is everybody?” Then he heard his name called from inside…the parlour? The aroma of food met his hungry stomach as he opened the door and made his way inside.

“Pipp--in…!” Pim called out again, but was shocked at what she saw.

“Son, what happened to your eye?” Paladin stood up to meet his son in the entryway.

Pippin knew that after “it” happened, there would be no time for storytelling, no time for eating. He pictured him and Diamond in front of the hearth--alone for the evening (doors wide open). Pippin quickly launched into the details of what happened upon the East Road at the halfway point while his mother filled his plate. Pippin told of the distant travellers behind them, then of the highway-robbers that tried to waylay them in the road. “At first, we thought they were going to rob us as well, but then as the travellers behind us drew near, I spied the same dark cloth, green cloak, and high leather boots that Strider used to wear when we first met him in Bree. Calbared and Dioreth were their names, and they were following us on purpose hoping to catch the robbers that have been plaguing hobbits lately. I was never so happy to see Rangers in all my life!” Here, Pippin forked a mouthful of mashed potatoes with gravy into his mouth, washing it down with hot tea.

Diamond sat in quiet rapture wrapped up in a warm blanket whilst eating her own dinner. She listened while Pippin regaled them with his story. Every now and then he would look over to meet her bright eyes, then would look away, but not before giving her a dreary smile. The rift from their argument was gone, Diamond knew, however, there would have to be apologies spoken on both sides.

“But how did…that happen?” asked Pimpernel, pointing to the dark blue discolouration over and on Pippin’s right eye. “It looks painful!”

There was a chorus of “oooh!” or “ouch!” when he told of stopping Berilac’s slingshot. “It looks worse than it feels right now,” he said. “Calbared tended to my injury after all was said and done. We helped them tie up the robbers to take back to Bree to pay for their crimes. Dioreth said he’s going to ask Dori, before he departs to the Misty Mountains, to make a pair of heavy metal bracelets chained together so that in addition to their penance, those two brutes will be attached to one another for the rest of their lives.”

“Their crimes were against quite a few Shire hobbits, from what I recall,” Paladin put in, though he also remembered the High King’s edict about Men--or ruffians--in the Shire. “Perhaps it’s just as well.”

“Pippin,” Eglantine spoke up, “Diamond was very ill while you were gone.”

Pippin went quiet, his smile disappeared. “I--I…,” he stammered his reply. “I am sorry to hear that, Diamond.” Yes, they had an argument, but he now realised just how trivial that was in comparison to earlier events. He also remembered the talk he had with Merry. “I am also sorry for how I spoke to you the night before I left. I never intended for what I said to come true.”

“I feel the same way about your run-in with the highwaymen--although my illness was my own fault,” said Diamond. “I knew better, but I didn’t listen. I’m sorry, too, for my harsh words.”

Pippin rose up from his chair to sit beside his love, and as he did so, Diamond sprang out of her seat, flinging herself into Pippin’s outstretched arms. He wrapped his arms tight about her, holding his lass ever so close. “Oh, how I missed you,” he whispered into her ear.

“I missed you, too,” Diamond whispered back, and then felt her beloved kiss her fully on the lips.

Everyone smiled as the young couple made up. Even Gelly beamed with pride at his uncle; Tilby and Hilly made icky faces at one another.

“I have something I want to say to you,” said Pippin when he finally pulled away. He sat Diamond down in the chair that he had occupied minutes before.

“We’ll give you two a bit of privacy,” said Paladin, rising up to leave.

“No--wait,” Pippin turned to his family. “I want you all here, if you please. Please,” he added with tenderness. Pippin waited for his family to re-seat themselves about the room.

Pimpernel held onto her youngest children, knowing just how important this occasion was to her brother. “Be silent while your uncle speaks to Miss Diamond,” she admonished them in a whisper, “and pay close attention.”

Pippin knelt before Diamond, taking her hands in his.

Diamond felt the sweat in his palms upon the back of her hands.

“Diamond,” he started, his vision blurring with tears, “you captured my heart as you made your home here at Great Smials. As we have gotten to know one another--growing in friendship and love, I cannot imagine my life without you any more.” He reached into the inner breast pocket of his waistcoat, taking out the small box that he came close to losing on the East Road. “I went to Bree for this,” he said, gently placing the box into Diamond’s upturned hand and then enclosed her fingers about it.

“Open it!” whispered Eglantine, prompting the lass.

Diamond looked up at Pippin, tears falling from her eyes, her hands shaking as she took the box and untied the blue ribbon. Sensing that this was her moment…and she wanted to remember it for the rest of her life. “I love you, Pippin,” she said, though most of her voice had escaped her.

“Hush,” Pippin smiled, tenderly placing a finger over her lips. He, too, was nervous; his finger quivering as he did so. “I love you, too. Now open your gift!”

Diamond returned his smile, then fumbled as she tried to open the lid.

Pippin wanted Diamond to revel in her moment, however, he could see that she was having a bit of trouble with the lid. He lovingly placed his hands over hers, assisting her to pull the lid off. Once it was released, he let go.

Diamond gasped at the sight of her gift, her hand flew to her mouth.

This was Pippin’s cue. He smiled through his tears, “I had everything I was going to say memorised,” he told her, “but I can’t think of any of it now.” This made Diamond laugh a bit in the midst of her own tears. Still on bended knee, Pippin went on while he took the diamond ring out of the box then slowly slid it down her finger. “All I know is that I love you, Diamond North-took--I have for a long time now. You are the beat of my heart and the air that I breathe. I want us to be together always. I want you to be my wife--will you marry me?”

All eyes were upon Diamond.

Not a moment’s hesitation, Diamond fell into his arms, nodding because her breath was taken away. Cheers erupted as Pippin lifted the young lass into his arms, whirling her round in complete abandon and joy. He finally set Diamond down to kiss her--no longer as the ‘lad-friend’ courting her, but as her betrothed.

The End

“Are you warm yet?”

“Mmmm,” Pippin wiggled his toes in reflection. Sitting beside his intended wife, Pippin felt utterly relaxed, warm, and cozy.

Diamond giggled, “I’m usually the one snuggling up to you seeking for warmth!”

“I don’t normally ride straight on for hours and miles in the cold, wintry wind.” Pippin shivered at the thought then pulled the blanket they shared round himself a bit more.

Now, they sat alone, in near privacy--the doors of the parlour wide open. The only light in the room came from the hallway and the fire in the hearth. They both sat upon a settle before the fireplace, nestled beside one another sharing the blanket Diamond wore round her shoulders earlier--and warming their toes near the fire.

Pippin smiled. He could not get over the fact that he would soon be able to participate in conversations with his cousins that spoke of wives and children. Children! Pippin wanted at least four. He leaned over to kiss his sweetheart for the hundredth time that evening.

Diamond would easily lose herself in Pippin’s kisses, finally having to release herself so that she could breathe. She would have to practice holding her breath a lot longer! She rested her head upon his shoulder, taking great pleasure in dreaming about their nuptials, commencing life together for forever. She smiled, thinking about all the children they would have. She heard somewhere that they were cheaper by the dozen…

“Pippin?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Pippin spoke sleepily, his eyelids growing heavy. “I know--let’s get married.”

Diamond giggled, then kissed him.

The Final End!