19 Time Apart

The slamming of Diamond's door reverberated through the Thain's personal quarters. Eglantine poked her head out of the door to her sitting room just in time to see Pippin striding stiffly out of the door that led to the rest of Great Smials, slamming it behind him. Pippin's mother knew that walk and the set of her son's shoulders all too well; he was angry. She walked quietly to Diamond's door and set her ear against it. The old doors were heavy solid wood, but she managed to hear through it the sounds of Diamond ranting on about something and the occasional thud of something being thrown. Eglantine went to the Thain's study to let Paladin know there had been an argument.

"How dare he!" Diamond fumed. "Bossy lass! Backwards North Farthing! Blind!" She threw a pillow at the wall. "I've every right to want him to look civilized! Bossy indeed!" She threw the next pillow at the door. "I don't have to take such things from anyone, Mr. High and Mighty Took! And I won't!"

Her hair had been mussy looking before, it was quite wild now. Her eyes were puffy and her complexion was pale. Somewhere in the back of her mind a small voice was telling her to settle down, to find Peregrin, to talk this all through with him, to stop acting like a child. But she shoved the voice away with an angry toss of her head.

What she wanted now was out of Great Smials. She threw a light weight cloak around her shoulders and fastened the hook. The heavier forest green wool cloak Pippin had bought for her hung beside the lighter one, but she did not want to even look at the new cloak with the Elven brooch still pinned to it. 'He' had given it to her and she wanted nothing to do with him or his gifts. She forgot for the moment that even the lighter cloak was new, bought for her by Pippin's mother on a recent shopping trip.

"Humph! Knight of Gondor indeed! Future Thain who looks like some wild Big Person! I don't need you or your titles or your finery, Peregrin Took!" she gasped in a quick breath as tears and heated emotions again surged up in her, "I don't need any of it!" She took off the necklace he had given her and started to throw it but stopped. It was too beautiful to risk damaging even though she no longer wanted it. She dropped it on the dressing table instead.

She grabbed her small purse and climbed out of her bedroom window, out onto the hillside and into the grey gloomy daylight. Her window was not high up and she only had a short distance to stumble and slide down the hill before she was on level ground. She ran. She ran through the circle drive and into the tall dead grasses that were alongside the lane that led from the smial to the main road. When she got to the road she paused, out of breath from running and crying. After regaining her breath and calming down a bit, she turned to the left and, staying in the tall grasses and brush along the roadside, headed toward the town of Tuckborough.

Pippin strode through Great Smials. He looked dead straight ahead and ignored any members of the family who were ambling about the numerous tunnels. He went to the library of Great Smials, pulling hard on the large heavy doors and then shutting them with a loud substantial thud behind himself. He would have locked them if he could as he wanted to be left alone, but there were no locks. He had to trust that the library was, and would remain, empty as usual.

The library had been his childhood hiding place whenever his family had visited at Great Smials. It was the only room that had tall rectangular floor to ceiling windows instead of the traditional round ones. Heavy deep red colored curtains hung at the sides of the windows and could be drawn over them to darken the room. It was behind these curtains that the young Pippin would hide whenever older and larger cousins would push their teasing too far. He would sit behind the curtain and look out of the window imagining that Merry was with him and the cousins didn't dare to be mean to him, or that he was with Bilbo and Frodo on an adventure and soon the teasing of his cousins was forgotten. Usually, he fell asleep there and would be found by his parents or sisters when it was noticed that he was missing at a meal.

Every wall was lined with bookshelves and there were free standing shelves here and there about the room as well. Sets of steps on wheels, attached to a runner at the top of each wall of bookshelves, were there to facilitate reaching books on the uppermost shelves. The free standing shelves, though tall, were short enough that step-stools were enough for retrieving books from them. A large fireplace, its moldings and mantle of ornately carved and polished dark wood, held a briskly burning fire.

The furniture was covered in leather in deep shades of deep red, forest green and chestnut brown. There were large soft over-stuffed chairs into which anyone sitting on them would sink several inches. Most unusual though was the sofa. Soft and deep like the chairs, it was longer than a normal hobbit sofa by two feet. As unlikely as it seemed, the tradition was that the sofa had been made hundreds of years ago for the "Bullroarer" to use when he would visit his brother, though many said it wasn't that old and had been made long to accomodate the Old Took's children at story time.

Pippin strode about the library for awhile, kicking at the step-stools and picking up and tossing pillows from off the chairs.

"I don't look like a ruffian!" He muttered angrily while throwing a pillow. "And where did she get the notion that she decides when I get a hair cut!" Another pillow flew across the room. "I'm a full grown hobbit and I don't need some one ordering me about, making my decisions for me as though I'm still a child! And I will not have a wife that thinks she heads the household!" He kicked a step-stool that was up against a bookshelf.

The stool had nowhere to go and neither did Pippin's foot so the kick hurt much more than it should have. He grabbed his foot, lost his balance, and fell over onto the sofa. He laid there for a bit, holding his foot and cursing the step-stool. When enough time had passed that his foot no longer held all of his attention, he felt something poking him in the back. Pippin squirmed about and finally pulled a stuffed toy out from under himself. The toy seemed to be a well loved toy, too much so to have been forgotten by its owner. Pippin wasn't even sure he could tell what it was, maybe a doggy or, he turned it about to examine it better, maybe a pony. He laid there looking at the toy and wondering about the hobbit child who had lost it. Was the child sad, he wondered, or had the toy been gone so long it was no longer missed.

No longer missed.

The words sank into him and settled heavily around his heart. Diamond would 'no longer miss' him. He frowned, sighed and, without thinking about it, hugged the soft worn out toy to his chest. Diamond would not miss him. He felt as lost as the toy. His head hurt and his stomach felt queasy. He rolled onto his side, curled up to ease his aching stomach and fell asleep, still cradling the lost toy in his arms.

"He was furious, Paladin. I've seen him like that before and I know he was furious."

Eglantine was wringing a handkerchief in her hands as she told her husband what she had seen and heard. "I heard her yelling in her room. Throwing things too, by the sound of it. What should we do, Paladin?"

Paladin thought for a moment. "Nothing at this time, dear. No, no!" He said as she started to speak. "You know I'm right. They need time to cool down before anyone talking to them will do any good. Every couple has arguments, Eglantine."

She sighed and nodded. "True, it's just so hard to see them," she sniffed and then blew her nose, "see them angry with each other. I should have done something, Paladin. I noticed yesterday that they were both looking so very tired. They have been so busy that I don't even think they have had time to talk to each other. I should have told them they didn't need to accept every invitation they received. Poor tired dears." She said and she started to cry in earnest.

Paladin looked at Lanti. The betrothed couple weren’t the only ones in his family who looked ‘so very tired’ as his wife had just said. His special lady had been nearly as busy as everyone else, though he knew his daughters were trying their best to not let their mother wear herself out. He got up, came around to the front of his desk and hugged his wife's head to his chest. "There now, my dear one! Don't blame yourself. These things happen. I'll tell you what we will do. After tea time, if they haven't shown up on their own by then, you can go and try to talk to Diamond and I'll find and talk to Pippin." He tipped her head up and smiled at her. "Until then, why don’t you go to our bedroom and have a nap. Will that help Eglantine?"

She nodded her head, dabbed at her eyes and then hugged Paladin.

It was not a long way from Great Smials to the town of Tuckborough and even though Diamond was walking through the grass and brush along side the road it still only took her about half an hour. The breeze was chilly, the sky threatened rain and mist lay in the low areas of the country side. Tripping and stumbling through the matted clumps of grass and having her skirts catching and tearing on the bramble did nothing to improve her mood.

Once in the town she walked down the street trying to decide what to do with herself. She was restless and wanted to keep moving so going for second breakfast at The Lesser Smials Inn was not appealing. Not that it wasn’t a nice inn, it was the most charming of the four inns that served the hobbits of Tuckborough. No, it was that she had the feeling that if she ate, or even smelled food, it would make her ill, so the inn was definitely not where she wanted to be. She thought perhaps the dressmakers shop would be a pleasant place to pass the time, but as she approached the shop the beautiful dresses in the window made her think of her own seamstress work and of wedding dresses. Diamond walked past the dress shop. The jewelers made her think of the mithril and diamond necklace, the furniture makers made her think of a certain hobbit who needed his bed made longer. On she walked. The pastry shop brought to mind a cake and other dainties for a wedding feast. The linens shop, she knew, was working on an order for bed linens, table linens and bath linens for a new hobbit family that now would not exist.

She was crying now. She walked until she had gone through the town and just as well, she thought, she didn't want to have to explain her tears. She wasn't even sure she could explain them; she did not know herself if she was sad or angry. One moment she was furious again at that stubborn, arrogant, unkempt looking , immature Mr. Peregrin Took. But the next moment she was missing his voice, his laughter, his sparkling green eyes and his tender ways. She walked until she was starting to get a bit weary and cold and realized that she really should turn around and head back to Tuckborough before she was too tired.

By the time she got to the edge of the town it was nearly time for luncheon. She still was not what she would consider hungry, but she did think she ought to eat. She made her way to the town square and The Lesser Smials Inn. It was a homey and inviting place with a small dining room off the common room, where it was less crowded. She sat at a table near the large fireplace. The light-weight cloak she had decided to wear had not been warm enough and she needed to fend off catching a chill. She ordered tea with potato and mushroom soup; a small loaf of fragrant brown bread and cheese came with the meal. Everything was nice and hot and comforting, but the only thing she could finish was the tea. After eating a very small amount of the soup, her stomach began feeling poorly and she did not even bother with the bread and cheese. She ordered some ginger tea hoping it might settle her stomach a little before she went back.

She caught her thoughts; back? Yes, she supposed she would have to go back to Great Smials as all her belongings were there. But it would be only to pack up and leave. First to Bag End to collect the things she had left there, and then home to Long Cleeve.

The serving girl recognized Diamond, and soon the whispers had spread throughout the inn. The hobbitess betrothed to young Mr. Pippin Took was by herself, having luncheon alone and it was quite obvious that the lass had been crying. Was the wedding no longer to be? Perhaps there had been a lovers quarrel? The Lesser Smials Inn was a-buzz . Diamond sat awhile and drank the ginger tea. When it seemed to her that her stomach had calmed, she paid for her meal and left, unaware of the of the staring eyes that followed her.

The heavy grey skies at last were dropping their load of rain. It was a steady rain, not hard not soft, and Diamond did not see why water should stop her. It suited her rather, she felt drab and grey. She walked without caring where she was going but was aware that her feet had chosen the road toward Great Smials. What did it matter, she thought to herself, what had she done? Did it really matter if his hair was cut? She sighed as she searched the images of Peregrin that she carried in her mind and realized, indeed, his hair usually was in his eyes. His eyes, his wonderful eyes. She sighed again. She hadn't asked, he was right, she had ordered; and no one likes to be ordered about.

The rain fall grew heavier and it was harder to see where she was going. The wind blew hard and in the distance lightening flashed and thunder growled. She thought she had been walking back toward Great Smials but suddenly was no longer certain. She squinted through the rain at the hazy country side. Nothing looked familiar, nothing looked right. She almost turned back but decided against it. Surely the lane to the Took's dwelling was just around the curve in the road that she could just make out ahead. But when she rounded the bend there was no sign of the lane. "Maybe the road to the Smials is just a wee bit further." she said aloud to herself.

What she did not know was that she had already passed the lane, unseen behind a stand of trees and the grey curtain of rain. She walked on. She was starting to shiver and sneeze when she spotted a barn off to the right of the road. It was getting colder and she decided to seek refuge in the barn, feeling more a fool with every step she took. She had slipped out of Great Smials. No one knew she had gone. She would just stay in the barn until the rain slowed and then she would sneak back into her room and surely no one would be the wiser.

Paladin Took had told Eglantine that they should wait until afternoon tea was past before seeking out the young couple. Let them think about what had happened and about what they might be losing. Yet when luncheon had come and gone and his usually ravenous son had not appeared at the table, Paladin felt a need to find the lad. He had a good idea where to begin his search: the library.

The room was warm against the grey chill of the day and Paladin had little trouble finding his son. One end of the sofa could be seen peeking out from behind a free standing bookshelf and upon the sofa could be seen two hobbit feet.

Walking around the bookshelf Paladin felt as though he had left some of his years behind him. His son lay sprawled on his back, his face turned toward where Paladin stood. Pippin’s mouth was slightly open, as it often was when the lad slept, and snuggled in his arms was an old worn stuffed toy animal. Pippin looked like a young tween with a youthful innocence softening his features.

Paladin slowly lowered himself into one of the easy chairs that sat opposite the sofa, his gaze never straying from his slumbering son's face. How long had it been since he had really looked at his son? How long since they had talked about anything beyond the day to day business of life? The longer he searched the young face the more signs of care he saw there. Subtle lines in the skin of Pippin's forehead, showing where his hair had fallen to one side. Tracks of worry lay between his brows and the shadowing of life's concerns lay beneath his eyes. The lad was indeed a hobbit grown and ready to become the head of his own family.

The Thain sat there long, looking at his son and thinking of the child he had been. Of the tween he had been. Then thinking of the things the still tween-aged son of his had seen and done on the journey, the quest, he had taken. The amazement that had touched Paladin's heart when his son, his Peregrin, had returned home came to his heart again. Pippin had come home to the Smials that night in Winterfilth of 1419, clad in the livery of some foreign land, mail showing beneath, a sword girt at his side and a shield born on his left arm. His son. They had feared him dead but he had returned and led the Tooks to the Scouring of the Shire.

The gloom of the day had darkened further and rain spattered hard against the tall windows. Firelight played upon Pippin's features softening them again. Paladin reached out a hand to wake him, but found himself caressing his son's face instead. He touched the soft curls that framed the beloved face.

"I love you, my dearest son." Paladin whispered.

"And I you, Father. Though it's been too long since I've said it."

Pippin slowly opened his eyes and brought them to focus on the fire lit face of his father. He smiled, but the smile turned to an embarrassed look and he blushed as he was aware of the toy he cuddled in his arms.

"It was here . . . uh . . . I found it here, on the sofa. I . . ."

"Do not let it worry you, Pippin." Paladin said with a light chuckle. "It suits a hobbit returning to the hiding place of his childhood."

Pippin's blush deepened as he set the toy down on the floor.

"From whom are you hiding this time, Pippin? Yourself or Diamond?" Paladin's tone was serious as he leaned back in his chair.

Pippin looked at the ceiling and then closed his eyes. "You know then?"

"Everyone in our quarters heard Diamond's door slam and probably one third of Great Smials heard the door into our quarters slam behind you. Yes, we know there has been an argument."

Pippin said nothing.

"What none of us know is what the argument was about." Paladin continued.

Pippin said nothing.

"Your Mother and I are concerned, Pippin." Paladin persisted.

Pippin's eyes opened but for awhile he still did not reply. His Father watched the rise and fall of his son's chest as his breathing quickened, and waited for the response he could sense was coming.

"She told me she was going to cut my hair." Pippin said to the ceiling.

Paladin resisted the laugh that rose in his chest. It was his turn to say nothing.

"She told me, Father." Pippin's words started spilling forth. "She did not ask if she could, did not ask if I agreed to cutting my hair. She did not ask if I even wanted my hair cut. She told me as though it was her decision and her’s alone. I will not be ordered about like that, Father." Pippin swallowed hard then turned his head to look at Paladin. "I won't be one of those husbands who walk about in their wife's shadow, slouched and shrunken and spiritless."

"And you think that Diamond wants such a husband?"

Pippin looked at his Father a few more moments and then turned his gaze again to the ceiling. "Apparently she does." He sighed. "I wouldn't have thought she does. But now . . ."

Paladin rested his elbows on the armrests of his chair and brought his finger tips together. "And now you assume she will be a shrew and you a henpecked husband."

"Now I don't know what I think."

"What color decorated your Mother's and my bedroom in Whitwell?"

The question seemed to fall from the sky and Pippin turned to look at his Father with a confused expression on his face. "Red." Pippin said. "Though it has nothing to do with this matter between Diamond and me."

"It has everything to do with it, my son." Paladin grinned. "I hate red."

Pippin pulled himself up to sit on the sofa, leaned his crossed arms on his thighs, rested his hands on his knees and looked more intently at his Father.

"I hate red. But my opinion was not sought in the choosing of those curtains, or of the bed covers nor the rug nor the chair nor any other red item found inside that room." Paladin closed his eyes as he thought back to that bedroom. "We had been married only a few months and I came in from the fields and went to change for luncheon. I entered our room and froze at the sight of all that horrid red."

Paladin opened his eyes and looked at Pippin. "Now a lass, my boy, expects to do the decorating of her home yet it angered me that she had not even sought to find out if I cared about such things. And there was that horrid red. I stormed into the kitchen and demanded that it all be taken away, immediately if not sooner."

"And what did Mother do?" Pippin asked.

"She put her hands into fists and yelled right back that she would do no such thing. That a wife decorates her home and she had decorated that room and she had no intention of changing it. And I told her either those red things were going or I was. She said that red was her favorite color and the red things were staying." Paladin looked down at his fingertips. "I walked out of the kitchen door and slammed it behind me. I went to the Horse and Wagon in Whitwell for my luncheon and stayed there nursing a few mugs of ale and my grudge."

Paladin raised his eyes to meet those of his son. "But, the longer I sat there the more I thought about her, my dear little Eglantine. I thought of how I loved her laugh and the way she would twist her curls when she became shy or nervous. I finally realized that there had to be something that could be done without my losing my dearest wife. So I went back home. It was after dinner time by then and when I came in the kitchen door there she sat at the table. There were five sodden and wadded up little handkerchiefs on the table and a sixth being twisted in her hands. She had fixed my favorite dinner and it sat cold and ruined on our best dishes. Pippin, my lad, I never felt more cruel and heartless than I did at that moment. I went down on my knees at her feet and told her how sorry I was and asked if she could ever forgive me."

Pippin was lost completely in the emotions of this story about his own parents relationship. "And?" He whispered.

"She asked me to wait there in the kitchen a moment and left the room. When she returned she held out her hand to me. I took it and she led me to our bedroom. At the closed door she said to me; ‘I'll remove every bit of red if you still wish me to.’ and she opened the door."

Paladin leaned forward and placed his hands on Pippin's hands.

"It was magic Pippin. In the light of the fire and the bedside lamps the red glowed rich and warm. The room was cozy and inviting." Paladin smiled at his son. "What had looked so garish in the bold light of day looked wonderful in the night time. I could stand the horrid red in the day time knowing the magic of it would return each night." Paladin smiled wistfully. "Every bit of red from that room came with us when we moved here." The soft smile faded and he looked hard at Pippin. "Is a hair cut so important a thing, son, that you would lose Diamond over it?"

The question was left unanswered as Eglantine opened the library doors and ran over to Pippin.

"She's gone! Diamond is gone, Pippin!"