Hello once again! As I said in Ch. 14, I would name those who I accidentally missed in thanking for their lovely reviews: Voldie On Varsity Track and hobbits soul--you guys are all terrific! Thank you.

Chapter Fifteen - Heart to Heart

Several days later, Lilas saw Pippin pounding a nail into their door. “What are ye doin’ Pippin?”

“It’s a little rustic, but it’ll do for now.” He stepped back to admire his handiwork. Carved into the wooden placard that now hung upon the nail was “Peregrin and Lilas Took”. “I did it myself,” he added.

Lilas smiled with pleasure. “It has our names on it!” She saw this as her chance; she stepped up on her toes and gave Pippin another kiss on the cheek. “It’s beautiful.”

Pippin remained standing towards the door, but there were other things on his mind.

“Are ye comin’ t’ bed now?” Lilas asked over her shoulder, “It’s almost mid---” she yawned, “midnight.”

Climbing into bed, Pippin felt a little nervous, but he wanted to proceed as he had planned. He lifted the blankets a little so that Lilas could snuggle up as now was her custom. He moved in a way that brought Lilas onto her back. With a slight hesitation, Pippin kissed her; a deep and passionless kiss it was, but Pippin ignored that. He pressed on.

Lilas was surprise by Pippin’s advances, but was delighted that he was finally acknowledging her as his wife. She shifted a little to help him slip her nightgown over her head. She followed by pulling up on his nightshirt. Just as things were getting started, she felt him hesitate. Then it occurred to her…

“Pippin…stop.” Lilas knew she was going to rue this moment, feeling very aroused, but she didn’t want their first affair as husband and wife to feel--or be this way.

Though it all felt obligatory to him, Pippin continued to kiss her neck, her shoulder; working his way downward. “What?”

“If ye don’t stop now, then I won’t be able t’.”

Pippin stopped kissing her for a brief moment, “Lilas--what are you saying?” Then he resumed his where he left off.

“I can feel it, Pippin--this isn’t how ye want it, and so neither do I.”

Pippin sighed. Then for a long minute he sat up in silence, scratching his head in the low light of the fireplace. “I didn’t think you would notice.”

Using the bed linen to cover herself, Lilas also sat up. She felt offended that her husband thought he could fool her with his contrived passion. “Ye didn’t think that I would notice? I may be simple, Pippin Took, but I’m not without feelins!” she said. “My heart breaks just as easily as yers.”

He let out a long breath in frustration, “What do you want from me, Lilas?”

“I want yer love, Pippin, but I want it given t’ me freely--without pretendin’ and no holdin’ back.” Lilas’ hand quivered as she placed it tenderly upon the bare skin of his back. “I want ye to be wantin’ it just as much as me. Until then, will ye allow me t’ just snuggle up t’ ye, kiss yer cheek, or hold yer hand. Would ye allow me that?”

Pippin wiped a wayward tear running down his cheek before he turned towards his wife, “Yes.”

* * *

Paladin looked up as he sensed a presence enter his office. It was Pippin, and Paladin hadn’t seen his son look so mournful in a long…well, a while. “What is it, Pippin?”

Pippin merely shrugged. “I just wanted to watch you for a bit.”

“I know you better than that, son.” Paladin knew that watching him sign deeds and bartering trades was the last place in Middle-earth that Pippin wanted to be. Paladin laid down his quill-pen, observing the lad traipse restlessly in his office, he asked, “What’s on your mind?”

Pippin sat down on the couch, looking off through the windows, he said nothing. Paladin took note of the behavior; getting up from his desk, he walked over and sat down next to his son. “Talk to me, Pip.”

Pippin swallowed hard, but the lump remained in his throat, threatening to jump out at the first opportunity. It was a few seconds before he responded. “I tried, Papa.” he said, reverting back to the childhood endearment he used as a boy. “I’m not a good husband…and I’ll probably fail as a father, too.”

Paladin offered a cup of tea to Pippin, “Drink this. I find it helps when the boss reproves me for something that I did.” He smiled at Pippin’s inquiring expression, “Your mother.”

Paladin watched Pippin drain the cup. “Tell me what’s on your heart, lad.”

Pippin related to his father what Merry had told him and then what transpired between him and Lilas the night before. “I’m no good. I can’t hide my feelings, and she rejected me because of it.”

“No, Pippin,” Paladin assured him. “Think about it--how would you feel in her situation? Seems to me Lilas would rather have your sincere affections rather than ones you make up. A bright lass, I should say.” Then Paladin asked more covertly, “Are you feeling a need to share your passions with your wife?”

Pippin held his head in his hands, attempting to hold his emotions in check. “I’ve been needing ever since I “needed” the first time. But it’s never with Lilas. In my dreams, I can feel her and even touch her--but she’s not Lilas. I feel as if I’ve seen this lass before, yet I don’t recognize her face.” Then he looked at his father, “But should I one day share my love with Lilas, I want it like how she wants it--to be a loving experience; not something that happens behind an inn. But it makes no difference what I do…I don’t love her and she feels it. And that’s what’s so exasperating.”

Paladin sighed. His heart went out to his young son. “My advice, Pippin, is to find something loveable about your wife or you will be in for a long and lonely marriage.”

* * *

“Race you!” Merry called to his friend, riding alongside him.

“Nah. Don’t feel like racing.”

Merry was surprised by his cousin’s response, “But you always like racing. It’s what helped us get back so quick to the Shire last year, though I think Gandalf was getting a bit irate with us.”

“Merry?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you look for in a lass?”

“Now where did this come from?” Merry asked, though he could feel his dearest cousin watching him, which meant he was expecting an answer. He let out along breath. “What do I look for in a lass? I suppose her looks are important…no good courting a scruffy lass,” he jested, but Pippin only stared at him. Merry cleared his throat for another example. “In all seriousness, Pip, I look for sincerity. I want her to like me because I’m me--not because I’m a Knight to a far away king. Why do you ask?”

“I just wanted to know.”

“Lilas?” Merry queried.

“I can’t let her take the entire blame,” Pippin answered morosely. “It’s more like…Lilas and I.” He looked up at the blue sky between the high treetops. “I wonder what lasses look for in lads.”

Merry felt Pippin was now treading in a foreign realm. He shrugged, “Don’t know, Pip. I suppose we could ask Pimpernel.”

Pippin shook his head vigorously, “No.”

“Well,” Merry said, “either way, lasses are a mystery to me. Take your cousin for example.”

Pippin snorted a laugh, “Which one?”

“The one at the Blessing--Freddie’s sister, Estella. The one who kept offering me strawberry tarts every time Saffron offered me biscuits. I was a very well-tended hobbit that afternoon.”

“My understanding is that Saffron was the only cousin employed to serve crumpets and tarts at the blessing--and she wasn’t happy about it.”

“No, I don’t believe she was,” Merry agreed. “But I distinctly remember that Estella was employed as well, though she seemed quite happy in her endeavors.”

In his head, Pippin went back a few days. A memory struck him of seeing his cousin in passing holding a small tray with a few pastry items on it. A smile spread across Pippin’s face, “No, my friend, there was no other--mother told me so. It seems, dear Merry, that a certain lass is sweet on you!” Pippin had a good laugh at his cousin’s stunned expression.