Chapter Nine - Discovering

“I can’t take this--it’s…so beautiful!” Lilas stood in Pervinca’s old bedroom along with her sister-in-law, holding a pretty green frock up against herself. She turned to look at herself in the mirror.

“Yes, you can,” Pervinca said, turning Lilas this way and that to ensure it would be a good fit. “It was my favorite dress; I must have left it behind by accident.”

“Don’t know what t’ say, except thanks.”

“And that’s enough,” replied Pervinca, picking up a crying Brody. “You don’t mind sitting and talking with me for a while do you?” she asked. Unbuttoning her bodice, she sat down on the couch to nurse her baby.

Lilas watched the hungry babe latch onto his mother, then glanced at her own inadequate bosom.

Pervinca caught Lilas’ movement, “Oh, trust me, they’ll get bigger!”

As they spoke, Lilas gazed around Perivinca’s room. This is where she grew up, she thought to herself. “Where was Pippin’s room?” she asked.

“Across the hall next to Merry’s. Mother always wanted a sort of order to our rooms; lads on one side, lasses on the other. It was like that at Whitwell, too.”

“Whitwell? Where’s that?”

Pervinca went into where their little farm smial was located just east of Tuckborough. “We grew up there. Well, until I was about sixteen or seventeen…which made Pippin about twelve at the time we moved here.” She saw Lilas’ expression. “You didn’t know that?”

The young lass shook her head. “Ye grew up on a farm? I thought ye lived here all yer life.” Lilas knew that farm life was not an easy one. Lilas realized then that she didn’t know much at all about her husband.

“What was Pippin like when he was a boy?”

Pervinca laughed, “He still is sometimes!” Her laughter died down when Lilas only looked at her with blinking eyes. “Um…well,” she sighed, digging into her not too distant memories. “He was definitely a mischief maker--and oh, you get him and Merry together! I’m amazed mother and father didn’t go mad. Not that the lads were malicious in their tomfoolery, but they certainly kept our parents on their toes.”

“I only remember Pippin once at the Hobbiton market,” Lilas began the same tale she told Pippin once before. “We were probably thirteen or fourteen years old. I had too much in my sack and it slipped from my hands. Everyone laughed except him. I don’t remember anyone else with him, but the look he gave t’ the other lads made even me cringe. He helped me t’ pick up all that I dropped and put it back in t’ the sack.”

Pervinca smiled at the revelation. “And that’s the very same Pippin whom you married a few days ago. For all of his mischief, he’s a sweet lad, too. You’ll see.”

* * *

Pippin came hurriedly inside his and Lilas’ door, “Lilas! Supper is almost ready--we need to start walking towards the dining room.” He stood for a minute in the sitting room watching his young wife work out a snarl in her knitting. She then hastily unraveled it apart, then threw her knitting needles down on the floor in frustration. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do it!” she sniffed.

“I didn’t know you could knit.”

“I can’t! Didn’t ye hear me?”

“I heard you; you said you couldn’t do it--I took it to mean you couldn’t,” he waived his finger at her pile of yarn, “do that--whatever you were knitting.”

“I was knittin’ a blanket. A baby’s blanket, if ye must know.” She picked up her scattered needles and rolled up her yarn. “Yer ma’s teaching me t’ knit. I wanted t’ surprise her t’morrow.”

“My mother isn’t one to demand excellence from the very start of one learning a new task. Did she know that you didn’t fully understand the steps she gave you to practice?”

“No, and I wasn’t going t’ tell her. She already explained ’em t’ me four times--I didn’t want her t’ think I’m stupid, too.”

“Too? Who is it that you believe thinks you’re stupid?” When he opened the door to allow her to exit first, he saw her glance in his direction. “Lilas! You know I don’t think you’re stupid!”

She walked by her husband, “I wasn’t going t’ name ye, but I wanted t’ be sure.”

Pippin strolled beside his wife as they made their way to the dining room, rather amused that Lilas was going to such great lengths in order to impress his mother. He had an idea to ask Pimpernel to help Lilas out after supper.

“Well? Who is it?”

“Who I think thinks me stupid?

Pippin had to take an extra second to decipher her speech. “Yes.”

“Me.”

“Why?”

“Lots of reasons.” Was all that she would say, though first and foremost in her mind was that both hers and Pippin’s lives were never going to be the same again.

* * *

Lilas held the long needles close to her face in the dim candlelight. It was after midnight, and she was well on her way to knitting her first couple of rows in her baby blanket. Pimpernel had tutored Lilas after supper in what Eglantine instructed her earlier in the day. Pimpernel laughed when Lilas told her about all the stitches she unraveled--which mortified the lass.

“Oh, Lilas--I’m not laughing at you,” Pimpernel responded. “My mother did the same thing to Pearl and I when she was teaching us to knit. It’s just the way my mother explains things. If you have any more trouble with understanding her instructions, just come to me and I’ll interpret them for you.”

As her husband slept on the other side of the bed, Lilas continued to knit into the wee morning hours. She was determined to knit enough rows to present to her mother-in-law after second breakfast. Her hands and wrists were beginning to ache with the rhythm of the slips and purls.

“Stop it, Pippin.” Lilas spoke in a soft voice, feeling the bed jar as he turned over. She chuckled to herself, What am I saying? He can’t help it, he’s asleep! She resumed her knitting hoping it was the last of his bouncing. After a couple minutes, she heard him grunt then turn over again--and not so gentle this time. “Pippin! I’m trying t’ knit!” She listened over the course of a few minutes as Pippin’s breathing increased. He turned over again and this time pulled on the blankets and her knitting. “Pippin!” She reached over to wake him, but suddenly with a loud, mournful cry he bolted upright in the bed. She cried out when he did, but he only stared straight ahead; seeing nothing. “Pippin?”

Pippin took hold of her wrist in an icy grasp, sneering, “We shall meet again soon! Tell Saruman that this dainty is not for him. I will send for it at once. Do you understand?” he said, jerking her arm, “Say just that!”

Lilas dropped her knitting needles, struggling to free herself from her mad husband. Finally Pippin let go and began to weep. Lilas ran out into the hallway knocking on doors. “Help! Somebody! He’s having a fit!”

Eglantine and Paladin were the first to open their door. Paladin shielded his eyes from the bright light in the hallway, “What is it, lass?”

Lilas was franticly imploring them, “Come quickly! He’s in a bad way!”

* * *

Pippin sat with his knees drawn up under the covers, his arms folded on top. He rested his forehead on his arms to hide his tears. Paladin sat on the edge of the bed offering his son a glass of water. Wiping his eyes on his nightshirt, Pippin took the glass and drank all of the water. He felt humiliated. “I’m sorry, Father.”

Paladin grinned sadly, “This is why you lived at Crickhollow, isn’t it?” It was as close to an apology for dragging the lad away as Paladin would get. He opened the drawer of Pippin’s night table and handed his son a handkerchief.

Eglantine sat with Lilas, also in tears, on the other side of the bed, “Try to get some sleep, Lilas. You need it for the baby.”

“Yes, mum.” Lilas gathered her bundle of yarn and the needles, putting them inside the knitting bag Pimpernel had given her.

Eglantine noticed the many rows of stitching already accomplished by her daughter-in-law. “You knitted all of that?” Lilas nodded. “Very nice stitching.”

“Thank ye.” Lilas was in tears again, being paid a compliment from her tutor.

Eglantine sensed the lass probably received few words of praise in her young life. She reached out and gave her a tender hug, then held her as the girl sobbed. After a minute Eglantine released her, admonishing her, “Now get some rest. You and Pippin are overdue for a long talk with each other.”

After his parents had left, Pippin lay for some time on his back trying to relax. In the silence he listened for the deep breathing of his wife lying next to him.

“Pippin?” she spoke softly.

“What?”

“Are ye all right?”

“I’m fine.” he lied. He was making every effort to not fall asleep again. Still feeling humiliated, he turned away from her, rolling over further on ‘his side’ of the bed.