Chapter Six: Color

Diamond lay in bed that night, awakened as she had been once or twice before in her time at the Smials. Captain Peregrin, she could tell, was awake as well, for it was his muffled noises which had brought her out of sleep. She glanced over her shoulder but, as in the other instances, his back was toward her, and he appeared to wish her unaware of the disturbance. She worried her lip between her teeth as she listened to his cries.

The scenes in Pippin’s dreams shifted that night, from the joyful celebration he remembered of Pimpernel’s wedding to the regal ceremony which had joined Aragorn and Arwen. He caught but a brief glimpse of his own wedding before his dream state brought him visions of a sky filled with lightning and thunder, strong wind and hail. Lightning arced across the sky of this fearful tempest, illuminating the battlefield of the Morannon below. Pippin saw, as he had so many times before, his dead and wounded comrades of the Gondorian army. As he came awake, he felt upon his face the tears his knightly heart had often shed for them.

Pippin tried to stifle his sobs into his pillow, as he had been doing ever since Merry wed Estella. Only if his cries were particularly sharp in the night had his cousin come to him in the past few years. Pippin did not ask about Estella’s reaction to Merry’s nightmares from the Quest.

He halted a sob and held his breath as he heard a rustling of the sheets and a soft swallow from his own wife.

“D--Diamond?” he breathed out in the barest of whispers. “Are you awake?”

“Yes, husband,” came the whispered answer. “Do you wish something?”

Pippin thought a moment, then drew a deep breath and wiped the tears from his face with a sleeve before replying. “Would you play a game with me?” he asked, and ignored the quaver in his voice.

“Of course, husband,” Diamond immediately agreed, and rose to pull on her dressing gown and strike a candle.

As they sat before the draught board in the night, Pippin’s moves were not so sure as usual. Diamond, her practice having indeed served to improve her game, found she could easily have taken advantage of his inattention. With careful moves, however, she let him win.


It was in Forelithe that Pimpernel’s birthday fell and, as usual, a party was planned -- an event to which, as Paladin had once noted, Pippin was looking forward.

“So, what will you be wearing to the dance?” he asked his wife casually as he prepared to leave for the day.

“Husband?” Diamond asked with distraction, looking up from where she had been arranging a sofa pillow in its new place.

“I asked, dinna I, what ‘twas you would be wearing to the dance for Pimpernel’s party,” Pippin answered as he noticed and tried to brush away toast crumbs that had fallen to the bottom of his weskit when he stood. “What color ‘twill it be?”

“Color?” Diamond echoed. She held the pillow before her now, like a shield, while she watched her husband’s scowling gaze as he brushed at his weskit.

“Aye!” Pippin barked at her. “’Tis that too much of a thing to ask, what color my wife’s frock will be?” He gave one last angry swipe at his front and turned his eyes to glare at Diamond.

She swallowed, intimidated, under that intense gaze, her mind racing to determine what would be the proper response. Which color would her husband prefer her to wear? Or, perhaps more importantly, which color would he despise?

She swallowed again, and clutched the pillow tighter, before asking in a quavering voice, “What would you have--”

“No!” Pippin blurted angrily, slamming his fist onto the dining table so that the uncleared dishes jumped with a clatter. “I’ll not have that! Tell me--” he broke off to raise his hand to his mouth and suck on it briefly, then shook it out before him and said in a calmer tone, “Tell me what your favorite color is.”

“I--” Diamond began, with tears standing in her gray eyes, but a determined set to her chin. A knock on the door to the quarters interrupted her, and Poplar the kitchen lass entered at the usual hour, with a quick curtsy, to collect the breakfast things.

Pippin turned his glare to her as she worked. Diamond could see him working his chin in an effort to control his tone as he asked, “Did the Mistress or I give you leave to enter, lass?”

“I--” Poplar’s eyes widened and she dropped a buttered knife with a clang back upon the table as she looked up at him. “No; no, sir,” she answered and began to back away toward the door.

“Halt!” he cried out, freezing her in her tracks. “Stay and carry on. You might as well finish what you’ve started. Oh, and don’t forget to clean that stain on the table’s cloth,” he nodded to where she had dropped the butter knife as he turned to go.

“I believe,” Pippin said coldly as he walked across the room, looking now at Diamond, “that we had nearly finished our conversation.”

“I--” Diamond began again, and whispered when he passed her, “I wish only to please you, husband.”

A pained and sour look came over Pippin’s face. He stopped his walk, and his voice was weary as he said, “I know.” Then he gave himself a little shake, took two more long strides and reached the door, where he turned around to face the room again. “Wife,” he said in a commanding tone, “I shall expect you to let me know of your selection by tonight.” Then he gave a small start, and the sour expression came over his face once more, and there might have been a small tremble in his voice as he added, “Please.”

Diamond stood but a moment after his departure, still holding the pillow. The kitchen lass looked back and forth between her Mistress and the dishes she continued to loudly clear.

“You may leave now,” Diamond said in a strong whisper that carried between the clatterings.

“But--”

“I asked you to leave,” Diamond said, turning to calmly gaze at the servant. “I shall send the cloth to you later to be cleaned.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Poplar nervously swallowed, curtsied, and made her way to the door.

“Oh, and lass?” Diamond called as she reached it. “Please send the Second Cook to see me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Poplar whispered and nearly ran down the corridor.

Diamond closed the door behind her, sank down on the sofa with her pillow in her lap, and bent her head forward to dampen it with her tears.

It was a brief time later when she lifted her face from the damp cloth she had pressed against her eyelids. “Yes?” she called out in response to the knock on the door.

“’Tis Geranium, Mistress Diamond,” came the response. “You called for me?”

Diamond set the cloth down and crossed to the door. “Yes, so I did,” she said as she pulled it open.

Geranium glanced once, quickly, at the uncleared breakfast dishes, but for the most part kept her eyes focused on Diamond as she asked, “What was it you wanted, Mistress?”

“I wished to discuss -- the appeal of the food being served,” she concluded confidently, with only a slight hesitation. “Oh, not the taste nor anything like that!” she hastened to reassure as the Cook’s face became slightly furrowed. “More -- more general lines of increasing the palatability,” she said, now slightly anxious, “qualities such as appearance, texture...color,” she added as if after a moment’s thought.

“Ah,” Geranium answered calmly, although still puzzled. “Would you like to start with the last, then? The ‘color’ that you mentioned?”

“Oh, yes!” Diamond said eagerly, and then blushed as she turned her back on Gerry and walked casually across the sitting room, trailing her fingertips over the back of the couch. “I am sure, as you have a great deal of experience in such things, that you have noticed which colors of food hold the most appeal for hobbits. Perhaps you even remember the shades of dishes which have tempted Captain Peregrin’s appetite in the past?”

She said this last sentence in a voice that was again slightly strained, and her fingers tightened on the back of the sofa, her back still to Gerry, as she waited for an answer.

“Well, I don’t rightly know all I should about colors of food, perhaps,” Gerry mused out loud, “just that my mother always told me you should never serve a meal all the same color...unless it was meant as sort of a game, perhaps...”

She broke off as she saw Diamond give a small start at this and then, a smile may have appeared in her eyes, although it did not touch her lips. “Of course, Mistress Diamond, I’m sure ‘twould help me to think on these lines if I could see some samples of the colors you were thinking of. Do you have anything I might look at?”

“Oh,” Diamond said, casually removing her hand from the sofa. “Why, yes, I suppose. We might look at the colors of my frocks.”

When Pippin returned to the quarters that night, he glanced at, but did not say anything about, the dress which lay draped over the sofa. Of a pinkish shade Diamond’s mother had called “dusty rose,” it had a full bodice with a simple scoop neck and full, ruffled cap sleeves that covered the upper portion of the sheer lace sleeves which reached to the wrist. The skirt, extending from a gathered waist, had been sewn into soft pleats, in the folds of which were broad lengths of red ribbon. Another ruffled flounce, this one of the same lace as the sleeves, peeked out from under the hem.

It was a summer dress, and one fit for a party, Diamond thought, as she and Pippin consumed their supper in near silence. She and her family had made this one early in the betrothal -- two every year had been their goal, as well as the wedding gown -- so that they had had to add on the lace at the bottom and some extra ribbon in the folds, as the tweenager grew into her full height. Those early dresses had been made to allow for such things.

Geranium had told her the dress looked like the color of cream after strawberries had sat in it for a time. Diamond wished Pippin would say something about it, but it was not until after supper that he stood before the couch, looked at it quizzically and asked, “So, is pink your favorite color, then?”

“I--” she began hesitantly -- he looked so stern this evening! -- but Pippin cut her off.

“Never mind,” he said with a yawn. “We shall discuss that later, I suppose. For now, I think I shall retire early for the night.”

And those were the last words she heard from him until she awakened in the night to hear him asking her, in a tear-filled voice, “Diamond? Would you please play draughts with me?” and she rose as usual to reach for her dressing gown.


“So, are you feeling better, Da?” Pippin asked as he approached his father’s desk.

“Aye, much better than the last two days,” Paddin answered, and made to rise from his chair.

“Ooo!” he winced, his hand hovering near his belly, “perhaps not quite back in tiptop shape as of yet,” he said as he sat back down. “But I shall be, for Pimpernel’s party, so no need to worry there!” He rubbed his hands eagerly together before him in anticipation. “So, did you listen to your old da and ask her what she was wearing?”

“Pimpernel?” Pippin asked in a yawn as he pulled a chair before the desk and leaned himself back into it, a hand covering his mouth.

“Nay your sister,” Paddin said in an annoyed tone. “Your wife. Did you ask--”

“Aye,” Pippin interrupted, then yawned again. “Why lasses allas have to fuss so about their clothes...”

“Aye,” agreed Paladin, shaking his head. “’Tis a mystery. Well!” he added after a moment, and dropped his hands onto the sides of the chair to lift himself up. “Shall we --ooh.”

He lowered himself slowly back into the chair and leaned forward over the desk, one elbow propped upon it and his forehead in that hand.

“Da?” Pippin asked, concerned, leaning forward in his own chair toward his father.

“’Tis nothing, ‘tis nothing,” Paddin waved him away. “Just a wee bit more of indigestion, ‘tis all. I should not have had that custard at breakfast, perhaps...Perhaps your mother could accompany you on that errand?” he asked as he looked up at Pippin from beneath his hand. “And, my lad, would you mind terribly riding out to the fields again for me this day?”

“Of course not, Da,” Pippin answered. “Not a’tall.”


“’Tis one of the trunks Isengar brought back from the sea,” Eg said as she pulled a wooden chest forward out of the depths of the hoard accumulated in one of the farthest reaches of the Tooks’ warren of holes that made up Great Smials.

“I believe -- ah, yes, here’s something as ‘twill ‘go with pink,’ as you say.”

“’Tis pink!” Pippin answered in a frustrated voice. “What else shall I say?”

“Never mind, dear,” Eg smiled at him and reached up to pat a cheek. “I’m sure I’ll learn all the other details of her dress when I see it at the party.”


“Husband?” Diamond asked, surprised to find a glimpse of him behind her in the mirror while she brushed her curls. Pippin was dressed in his party finery as well -- fine blue trousers and a soft gray weskit embroidered with tendrils of silvery vines over a cream-colored shirt -- but he was now fidgeting nervously from foot to foot, hands held behind his back. “Is anything required?” Diamond asked.

Pippin stopped fidgeting abruptly, and shook his head. “Nay -- nay, nothing is amiss,” he said. “I just wanted to give you -- something.” He thrust out a hand and Diamond reached to accept the object he dropped into it.

“’Twill go with your dress, I’m told -- at least, if that color’s truly pink -- I thought ‘twas, but I could be wrong -- I never did listen to my sisters when they talked of such things -- although I could have, if I’d wanted to, often enough, the Valar only know -- but I wanted to get you something, and Da says lasses always like jewels -- and I do seem to remember Mama wearing quite a lot of them, and she always seemed happy about it, and I know Pearl has said something along those lines, too -- that’s one lass conversation I did listen to, I suppose -- and you may keep it after tonight, too, you know -- it comes from the hoard of the Tooks, so I suspect it shall find its way back into that pile of such things eventually -- although not for a good long while, I should hope! -- and -- do you like it?” he asked at last in a childish tone.

Diamond, during these babblings, had been smiling softly as she pinned the brooch to her bodice. When she first saw it, her heart gave a lurch at its beauty, but then she remembered that she was married to the Heir to the Thain, and he must expect his wife to look her finest before the other hobbits. “Yes, husband,” she said, and smiled at Pippin. “It is lovely.”

Upon her bosom gleamed the square of moonstone, set within a silvered frame mounted all around with tiny garnets, while a small hunk of rose quartz hung suspended from the bottom.


Not so many hobbits as had been at the wedding attended this party, so the choice of dance partners was fewer. Pippin and Diamond were restricted further still, by the rules of propriety which governed his position.

He had promised, as part of his wedding vows, to honor his wife, and honor her he would, by obeying the dictates that said he must not touch any unmarried hobbitess between the ages of twenty and eighty, unless she were sister, aunt, first cousin, or such close kin. The obverse of this -- in regard to hobbit males -- applied to Diamond.

In consequence, Pippin danced with many fewer partners than he would have at such a party just three months before. And, perhaps as a result, he was very enthusiastic in the twirls and promenades in which he did participate -- at one time swinging Diamond so far out as they danced in a square composed otherwise of Pad and Eg, Pimpernel and Everard, and Pippin’s sister Pearl and her husband, come for the evening, that Diamond and Pearl nearly collided.

Although she was pleased to see her husband enjoying himself, and she felt the dancing and music were fun as well, Diamond was happy for the chance to catch her breath when they took one of their breaks to visit the food table. Pippin left her briefly, he said, to stand with the hobbitservant Bert by his side and discuss something at the far end of the table with Holly the kitchen lass, and Diamond popped another one of the small sweet cakes being served into her mouth. Wrapped in individual papers, with ovoid slices of nuts embedded in the icing, they were really quite good.

Diamond had never tried such a flavor before, but she found she was enjoying it. She supposed, after a few more Great Smials parties, she would come to enjoy them more fully as well. Her anxiousness over proper behavior had somewhat abated, as Captain Peregrin had not shown any disapproval toward any of her actions this evening, and she was sure she had studied the rules of party etiquette thoroughly.

Diamond had not had much chance to put them into practice at her family’s home, though. The sparseness of the North Farthing’s population made it difficult to have such a grand party more than once a year. Even when celebrations were held, her parents had guarded her carefully, so that soon the few lads there might be knew that she was spoken for, and she took only the occasional turn about the dance floor with such as her brother Ganelon.

She daubed at her lips with her fingers to remove any traces of icing, and turned to seek out Captain Peregrin from among what seemed to her a large crowd, as she heard the band strike up another lively tune. Perhaps, if she stood nearby, he -- or mayhap Everard -- would ask her to dance again.

He was no longer speaking to the servants when she caught up with him, but to the Thain.

“Eg, stop fussing so,” Paladin was saying as Pippin saw Diamond and beckoned her over to his side. “I said I should stay until Pervinca came, and so I shall!”

“But, dear,” Eglantine responded as she tugged at his arm, “She did say that she might not be able to get away again, you know -- between the wedding and the fair and all.” She gave a quick, tight smile in greeting to Diamond, and then turned back to plead more with her husband.

“Mama’s right, Da,” Pippin put in. “What can it hurt to be cautious with your health? You’ve seen Nellie safely turn 48, now perhaps you should turn in for the night.”

“I’ll see all my children safe and well!” Paddin quietly thundered, “ and that includes -- my lad, you’re looking a bit flushed,” he said as he peered closely at Pippin’s face.

Pippin’s face flushed even more, but he answered calmly, “’Tis from the heat, and the dancing. Perhaps ‘twas a tad more exertion than I’m used to.”

“Aha!” Paddin crowed triumphantly. “And I can say the same of myself.”

He smirked, and turned a look toward the ale table, while Pippin’s face became set.

“Fine, Da,” he answered at length. “If I retire for the evening, shall you do so as well?”

“Retire for the evening? Well, you don’t have to on account of us,” Pearl laughed as she breezed up, children in tow, to bestow goodbye kisses on her family. “But we are off! We will make it back to Whitwell in time for a few hours’ sleep before some of our hobbits must needs be up with the cock’s crow,” she laughed again.

After the flurry of Pearl’s family’s leavetaking had subsided, Pippin stared hard at his father and held out an arm to escort his wife.

“Come, Diamond,” he said. “We are turning in for the evening.”

“Yes, husband,” she answered, and put her arm in his.

Pippin’s green eyes remained locked on his fathers’ as she bobbed her head in farewell, but Diamond, to her surprise, felt him lean a portion of his weight onto her shoulder that was locked within his.

She kept any expression off her face, and lent him all the support she was able as they walked back into the Great Smials, and Pippin held off the old limp, aggravated by the dancing, until they were in their quarters.

He seemed fully recovered from it after a good night’s sleep and, indeed, was quite cheerful at first breakfast.

Diamond paused, a tray cover in her hand, and looked puzzled. “Husband?” she asked. “I did not order these...”

“I know,” Pippin smiled slyly around a spoonful of berries. “I noticed you enjoyed them at the party, and asked the kitchens to set some aside for our table.”

Diamond set one of the small, almond-topped cakes upon her plate and began peeling the paper from it.

“You would not tell me your favorite color,” Pippin went on, “so I have decided that, if I am ever to know things such as your favorite food, I shall have to become a more observant hobbit.”

Diamond bit into the cake. Her eyes were cast down and she blushed, but a smile was upon her face as she answered, “Well, I suppose I am rather inordinately fond of nuts.”

“There are some,” Pippin grinned, and his eyes twinkled, “as ‘twould say that’s a very good thing indeed.”