Chapter Three - Champions to the Rescue

“Pervinca?” Pippin had opened the door to his sister’s room after no answer seemed forthcoming. The little parlor adjacent to her bedchamber was well lit with the two lamps on her tea table. No one seemed to be about so he quietly stepped through the door. The door to the bedchamber was open, but it was dark inside and therefore could not see beyond the doorway. “Pervinca?” He tried once more.

Instantly, Pimpernel stood in the darkened doorway and blocked his entry.

“I only want to talk to her,” he said.

“You’ve ‘talked’ to her enough this evening,” answered Pim.

Pippin lowered his eyes. “I feel horrible for what I said. I want to apologize.”

“You ought to! Is it part of your punishment to apologize to her?”

“Let him in.” Pimpernel turned towards the small voice beyond the door.

“All right,” Pim answered. Begrudgingly, she stood aside and called to her sister, glaring at her bother as he passed him by, “but if you need anything, I’ll be out here in the parlor.”

Pippin walked just inside the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room.

Pervinca sniffed. “What do you want?” she asked sitting up, using her handkerchief to clean her face.

“I want to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said…and for making you cry.”

Pervinca looked up, tears still streaked down her flushed cheeks. “Why did you say it?”

Without going into a long dissertation Pippin replied, “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to make you laugh. You used to laugh at my jokes all the time, but now I suppose you’re all grown up now, busy going to parties and then getting married.”

“Married? What are you talking about? I’m only going to one party, Pippin,” she answered.

“It’s one party now, but eventually you will get married just like Pearl and move far away.”

Pervinca sighed, “Pippin, we’ve had this conversation a long time ago. I can’t help it. You can’t help it. We all have to grow up, and I wish you would, too.”

That remark stung Pippin, though he felt he deserved it. “I am, Pervinca,” he said, sitting down next to his sister. “From now on, I am only speaking nicely to other people.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She said half smiling, “Pearl says that I’m starting to sound a lot like mother these days, all serious and proper. But I can’t help it--this is me.”

“And it’s me now, too,” he replied, then added, “but in a lad’s sort of way.”

Pervinca smiled at her brother’s words. “Apology accepted.” She leaned over and hugged him.

* * *

The following day, three young hobbits rode their ponies into Tuckborough. It was difficult for Merry to tear his older cousin away from his books, but after convincing Merimas that he was looking rather peaked and needed more sun on his face, the health-conscious cousin finally laid his books aside, accompanying Merry and Pippin into town. Once they reached the market square, Merimas found out the true reason for their little trip.

“I cannot believe I am taking part in this ruse!” Merimas said in dismay to the two conspirators standing in front of him. He cautiously glanced about the area next to the blacksmith’s shop; the pounding of iron against steel filled their ears. The threesome stood near the back of the shop waiting on young Mirto Boffin to come out of the Oak Leaf Inn.

“We’re only going to talk to the lad, Merimas,” stated Merry. “It’s not as if we’re common thieves planning to waylay him. Now stand right here and act as if you don’t know us when we walk by.”

Merimas wanted to crawl under a rock somewhere. “You can count on that, cousin!”

Merry and Pippin walked nonchalantly towards the Inn and waited near the porch where the coach would stop. It would seem to onlookers in the market area that the lads were waiting on the next coach. From his position next to the blacksmith’s shop, Merimas could see a young tween leaving the Inn. Merry glanced in his direction, giving him the signal. Poor unsuspecting lad, thought Merimas. He turned back round in his place and picked up a piece of scrap iron at his feet, pretending to examine it. Soon he could hear the voices of his cousin and Pippin coming up.

“…we only want to talk to you, Mirto--honest.” It was Merry who was now speaking.

“Yes, and we want to…get to know you a bit better,” added Pippin with a persuasive air. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Uh…no--I guess.” Young Mirto Boffin was being ushered to the back of the shop by Merry and Pippin. Merimas stood examining his piece of scrap metal, watching out of the corner of his eye as they passed him. The baffled look on Mirto’s face indicated he was truly oblivious as to what was going on. Apparently, Merimas reasoned to himself, Mirto had no sisters to protect.

“Now, Mirto,” Merry began, “You know that you will be Pervinca’s first escort, do you not?” Mirto nodded. “Do you know how dear of a cousin she is to me?” Mirto shook his head, but thought better and then nodded vigorously. “Pervinca is like a sister,” Merry grinned wickedly, patting Mirto on the shoulder. “Just wanted you to know that.”

“However, she is my sister,” said the smaller hobbit. “Now, Mirto, I cannot stop you from escorting my sister to the party, that is between you and her…,” then he, too, smiled mischievously, “and my father.” Mirto was getting anxious by now. “I know that you will treat her with complete respect, will you not?” Pippin paced in front of Mirto with his hands behind his back waiting for an answer (much like his father would do with him before punishing him).

Mirto may have been caught unawares at first, but now he was getting his nerve back. “Now half a minute,” he said, yanking his arm away from Merry. “If you don’t like the fact that I intend to escort Pervinca to her first party, then I suggest you turn your heads. Furthermore, what we do before, during, or after the party is our own business!”

“Fine,” answered Pippin. He stood in front of Mirto and locked his green eyes upon the tween. With all seriousness he added, “just pray I never find out anything ‘disrespectful’ happens after this party or any party--and you may as well share that bit of information to all the other lads in the Shire.”

Young Mirto made the mistake of forgetting who else was around. He looked derisively at the smaller teen, “You’re still a little squeaker, Pippin. I don’t care what you think!”

This last remark caught the attention of Merimas. Both he and Merry came to Pippin’s defense, crowding around Mirto and forcing him to back into the shop wall. “You had better start caring, laddie,” said Merimas, thinking of his own sisters, “or you will have all three of us on your tail.”

Seeing that Mirto was once again intimidated, the three friends parted to give way for him to leave. They stood watching the lad stomp off.

Pippin had his arms folded across his chest, gazing at the retreating figure, “What do you lads think?”

“I don’t think he’s unscrupulous--not yet at least,” answered Merimas. “but I say give him a couple years. Hopefully Pervinca will see him for what he truly is--or will become.”

“That’s what troubles me, Merimas,” said Pippin. “Pervinca has always been so…trusting.”

Merry watched with interest as Mirto walked further into the distance. “I think we ought to inform Uncle Paladin about him.”

The young hobbits walked back together towards the stables to retrieve their ponies. In the distance Pippin could be heard asking, “I sounded nice, didn’t I? I mean, I didn’t sound unkind or anything?”