Every bone in Pippin’s body exhibited a certain mode of defensiveness.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Aragorn gazed at him sternly.  “Of course you do.”

Pippin took a step back.  “All right, Strider, now I can’t tell whether you’re joking or not.”

“Joking, of course.  I have such rare opportunities to show a Ranger’s humor these days.  Were you joking?”

“Of course I was.  What are you talking about, again?”

Faramir supplied, “Meriadoc’s application to become the King’s taster.”

“But he can’t do that!  He’s of Rohan!”

“We are well aware.  That is not the question.  The question is why his hand looks so different.”

“His arm’s still recovering, don’t you remember?”

“And yet,” said Aragorn, “it looks so much like yours.”

“You haven’t seen my hand-writing.”

“Except when you stopped your tour of the White Tower to copy down one of the cook’s receipts…”

Pippin scratched his head.  “Oh, all right, I guess there is that…”

“Had you been able to mimic his hand perfectly,” added Faramir, “we still should have noticed a discrepancy.  You used the familiar.”

“Faugh!  Not again!”

“So you did write the note, then?” said Aragorn.

“Yes, yes, I did.”

“You are aware of the difference in the second-person pronoun, are you not?” said Faramir.

“Of course I am!  Frodo corrected me—loudly, I might add—the first time he caught me using the wrong one.”  He paused.  “Say, it isn’t terrible that I’m not ‘theeing’ and ‘thouing’ every time I have to talk to you, is it?  I don’t want to make things more difficult for you…”

“Peregrin, I believe that the people of Gondor are—albeit slowly—learning that using the familiar is the way of your people.”

“And as for me,” said Aragorn, “you may use whatever pronoun you wish to address me, especially out of court.”

“Hmm… I should see if anyone can think up a good hobbit-dialect-pronoun for ‘hoy, you stupid clod.’”

“I am fairly certain,” said Aragorn, “that if you had one, I should have been called it many times over while I was in Bree.”

“Strider, just because we both know you’re right doesn’t mean you have to rub it in my face all the time!”

“No, I do not have to.”

Pippin sighed and walked off in a huff.

Faramir turned to Aragorn.  “I am often astonished at the frank and easy manner you have with the pheriannath—all the pheriannath.”

“That is because of what we all suffered together.  If you wish such camaraderie, you need only spend more time with them.”

“Perhaps I shall, the next time I have an evening free.  There is, however, one thing you utterly neglected.”

“What would that be?”

“Why on earth Pippin forged a letter of application for Merry in the first place!”