Chapter Nine: Pippin’s Perspective

Pippin rather liked being carried by his da. And, even if he hadn’t been able to make his usual eager demands after Da called him “Thain Peregrin” and then asked with a cheeky grin, “And what do you wish this day, my Thain?” -- still, he’d managed to get an extra snack into the day by opening his mouth in the way everyone thought meant to bring him food.

Pippin wished, though, sometimes, that he could ask for something else when he opened his mouth. He didn’t really understand why he couldn’t. It’s just that nothing seemed to work right anymore. Sometimes, in the bath, the water seemed to help him a little bit and he almost felt like he could move. But most of the time, he just had to let the healers move his arms and legs for him. Or sometimes it was Mama, or Merry, or whoever was carrying him about for the day.

Those two were the ones who took him most often, and they were nice. Mama would talk soft to him, or sometimes she’d sing, or tell a story, and Merry would talk about all sorts of lad things that Pippin thought sounded fun to do. Sometimes he’d even sneak Pip along with him to pilfer from the edges of the gardens: that was great fun!

So those two were all right. And Da had taken the whole day to let him help in the study, even though they usually played the Thain Peregrin game in the winter, because summer was so busy with fieldwork and such.

Pearl flew through occasionally to ruffle his curls and kiss his brow. She’d even helped with his bath, once, but she’d gotten excited telling Mama about a party she’d been to and let go of Pippin’s shoulders as she waved her hands to make a point. She’d caught him before he went under the water, but she hadn’t helped again. And, anyway, Pearl didn’t seem to be home much these days. She was always visiting one cousin or another across the Shire. Mama had said once that that sort of thing happened when you were a tweenager.

Pimpernel talked to him when she was with the family, but there were so many hobbits around the Great Smials that she had a number of friends, and had always spent much of her time with them.

Pervinca hadn’t exactly talked to him at all, since he’d “woken up” on that scary day to see her standing over him with a rock in her hand like those that had just hit him. Instead, she talked about him, like he wasn’t even there.

Pippin wasn’t sure how he felt about this. Pervinca kept telling people she hadn’t known he was there and didn’t mean to hit him. He thought he believed her, but this didn’t really explain why he had found himself suddenly to be sitting among trees acting as a target for rocks when al he could remember for a long time before that was a lot of the sleepy-darks and some jumbled things, including something about an arrow. That whole first day had been very scary, as he slowly figured out that he couldn’t talk, or move, and Pervinca had been a part of that.

Nobody had told him why he couldn’t talk or move, either. They all just seemed used to it, like it was something that had been going on for a long time. Well, Mama cried sometimes, but that was all right; even grown lasses were allowed to cry. Da still thought he’d be Thain some day, so maybe this was how things were supposed to be. Maybe this was something that happened to all hobbit lads when they were eight or so, and that was why none of his friends from the Smials came around anymore. Maybe their mamas and cousins had to carry them, too.

Except -- no, wait; that couldn’t be right, because when he’d been out at the gardens with Merry one day, he’d seen Sancho Proudfoot run out from a game to pick up a ball, and Sancho was just his age. The lads he’d been playing with were probably the same ones Pippin used to play with, too.

So that meant it was just him. Maybe the healers broke him somehow, when he’d been sick this spring. Maybe that was why Aunt Essie seemed so angry this summer whenever she saw one of them. Well, if they broke him, then they’d better fix him! Mama and Da would be angry, too, and Da was a big hobbit who could yell very loud if you were bad!

Just now, Da was sitting in the music room with Pippin propped on one knee. He applauded politely as Pervinca finished playing the tune Mama was teaching her on the pianoforte -- not bad, but she could be a little louder, Pippin thought -- and then beckoned his daughter over.

Pervinca came, halting before her father’s chair. “Yes, Da?” she asked. “Did you like my song?” Mama was busy at the bench behind her, packing away the music.

“It was very nice, Pervinca,” Paladin answered, then cleared his throat and shifted a little. “But, you know, your Cousin Merry was right about something this morning.”

“But, Da!” Pervinca wailed, lips trembling and tears filling her eyes, “It’s the truth! I didn’t know Pippin was there when we were throwing rocks!”

Paladin held up a hand to stop her, as he had earlier. “Yes, lass, I know, and I believe you. But that’s not what I meant.”

Pervinca looked confused and Paladin glanced down at his son, who had squeezed his eyes shut at the mention of rocks but was now cautiously opening them again.

Paladin drew in a deep breath. “You need to apologize to your brother, Pervinca,” he said in a firm voice. “To him. That’s what Merry was right about.”

Pervinca looked down at the floor and chewed her lip for a moment before bringing her gaze back up to meet her brother’s. “I’m sorry, Pippin, it was an accident. I didn’t know you were there I was just practicing throwing rocks like Regi said and I didn’t mean to hurt you and I’m sorry and you have to believe me!” she gushed out without pause.

There was a moment of silence as she finished and Paladin sat awkwardly before her. After Pippin had blinked, twice, Paladin decided that was sufficient.

“Yes, well. I’m sure your brother forgives you now,” he said to Pervinca, and turned his head toward Eglantine to discuss the tray of food she was carrying across the room.

Pervinca continued staring at her brother and, while her parents were engaged in conversation, stuck out her tongue at him.

Finally! Pippin thought, something he could respond to! He opened his mouth to stick out his tongue back.

“Oh,” Eglantine laughed as she stuck the biscuit she’d been about to hand her husband into Pippin’s mouth. “You are a hungry lad!”

Pippin blinked in surprise and then began chewing his biscuit as his sister hid her snort of laughter behind her hand.

“There, there, dear,” Eglantine patted her shoulder. “We all know you’re sorry now, and we don’t need to speak more of it.” She began leading Pervinca toward the food as Pervinca looked over her shoulder at her brother.

He rolled his eyes back at her and smiled around his mouthful of biscuit.