“You did what?” said Merry, fifteen minutes later, as the hobbits took tea outside.

            Pippin turned bright red again.  “I really am quite sorry.  How was I to know they were going to take it that way?”

            “Pip, my lad, you underestimate yourself.  Put a message in the lips of a demure serving maid, and people will take it at its best.  Put it in the lips of an impish hobbit who enters the hall by the front doors, and… well, look at what happened.”

            “Really, I don’t understand how you do it, Mr. Pippin,” said Sam.  “In front of all them lords and ladies…”

            “An entire delegation,” Pippin muttered, letting his head sink into his hands.  “Strider will be so upset…”

            “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you, Pippin,” said Frodo, speaking up for the first time since they had sat down.  “From the little I’ve read, delegations from Khand are rather easily ruined.”

            “What?  Have you read anything on the land, Frodo?” said Merry, recalling momentarily the endless hours his cousin had spent in the Great Library when he’d first arrived in Minas Tirith.

            “Well, not much—they had very few texts about Khand itself.  All they know for certain is that it has always been allied with Mordor, and its king is called the Khandis. That has been all the information needed till now.  I didfind, though, a mention of Khand in an old merchant’s journal, back in the days before Sauron’s return.  He was trying to open trade with some men near the borders of their land, and all seemed to be going well; but when the men went into their tents to talk with their superiors, they returned with swords and chased him out of their borders.”

            “They’d be mad to attack here,” said Pippin.

            “True, but it shows that they are highly unpredictable by our standards—or at least, they were long years ago.  Maybe your interruption will have a favorable impression with these ‘superiors,’ when they learn the story.”

            “I doubt that.”

            Frodo shrugged.  “Besides, Pippin, Arwen probably sent you to the court because she knows Aragorn will heed you more than a demure serving maid, and I am certain he has already addressed that topic with her.  I only hope,” he added, “that whatever she wanted warrants his attention.”  He looked at Pippin expectantly.

            There was an embarrassing silence.

            “I don’t know so much about that,” said Pippin.

            “What does she want him to do, Pippin?” said Merry.

            Pippin held up bravely for a few moments under the hobbits’ scrutiny, but it was too much for him and he began to snicker.  “I really shouldn’t say…”

            “Pippin…”

            “You won’t believe me…”

            “What is it?”

            Pippin lifted his head, trying to keep his face straight, and looked each of his friends in the eye.  “She wants him to wear a dress for a day.”

            “What do you mean?” said Frodo.  “Formal wear?  Elven robes?”

            “No, no.  A—a lady’s dress.  Such as the ladies wear in court.”  Merry’s tea sprayed out of his mouth.  Pippin ignored him.  “And I believe the Lady Éowyn is trying to get Faramir to do the same.  The Queen said she wanted my assistance with the matter, and possibly yours as well, Merry.”

            “I am having nothing to do with this,” Merry said, dabbing at the tea sprayed on his uniform.

            “Strider won’t go for it,” said Sam.

            “I’m not so sure,” replied Pippin.  “He is very much in love with her, and if Rosie Cotton asked you to do something just as strange back home…”

            Sam flushed a shade that would rival a sunset.  “She wouldn’t.  And I shouldn’t ever a told you about her…”

            “Peregrin, be nice,” said Frodo.  “It was rather forced out of him.”

            “Oh, he can tease me as much as he wants when I get a sweetheart.”

            Frodo quirked an eyebrow.  “What if you can’t find a sweetheart?  What if you end up an old bachelor like me?”

            “Frodo!” said Pippin.  “How dare you suggest such a thing!  And you, dear cousin, may be a bachelor, but you most certainly are not old.”

            “So says the young whelp who still has four years not to worry about such things.”  Frodo stood up from the tea table.  “When you, my lad, are fifty years of age, and still find yourself single, doubtless you will be of a different opinion.  And now, I must take my leave.  There are some things I’ve been meaning to write for a while that I must work on.”

            Merry, Sam, and Pippin stared at Frodo’s retreating form for a moment.  Merry got up and looked at the food Frodo had left on his plate.  “He’s eating Man-sized portions again.”

            “He’s probably just homesick, Merry,” said Pippin.

            Sam was silent.

            Any time for further contemplation was cut of when a serving maid walked up to the small table and curtsied.  “The Queen requests the presence of Sirs Meriadoc and Peregrin in her chambers.”

            Merry and Pippin glanced at one another.  “The Queen can’t be gainsaid, you know,” said Pippin.

            “I know, I know.”  Merry turned to the maid.  “Tell her we’ll be there shortly.”

            “I guess Strider went for it, Sam,” said Pippin as they left.

            “Look after Frodo while we’re gone,” said Merry.