Wherever You Are Is Home Chapter Fifteen - "Tantrums and Tears" It is 1410 in the Shire Reckoning Pippin is 20, Pervinca is 25 and Merry is 28 and Pimpernel is 31 Merry ventured out of the bedroom yawning and groggy. Alone, sleep had eluded him. Merry had been tired and exhausted, but had found himself unable to sleep in the empty bed. He had lain there for hours, contemplating the numerous wrong things he had said. Then he had wept, unable to bear the solitude. More than once, he had considered going into the sitting room, but he had eventually decided against it. Pippin had plainly wanted to be alone, and Merry figured he had already done and said enough to upset him. When sleep had finally come, it had been fitful and unsatisfying. He had really only dozed, waking at the slightest sound, hoping that it was Pippin coming back to him. Pippin had not come back. Merry had woken up alone. Merry found Pippin in the kitchen, making breakfast. Pippin looked up when Merry walked in, then turned his attention back to the stove after favoring Merry with a brief, blank expression. Merry watched Pippin silently for a moment, his heart heavy and tight. He noted that his cousin was fully dressed. "Good morning." Merry offered. He came up behind Pippin and pressed a soft kiss in his curls. "Uh-huh." Pippin replied. He suffered the caress stiffly for a moment, then shrugged Merry off to take the scones out of the oven. Resigned, Merry walked over to the table and collapsed into the chair heavily. He watched Pippin, his heart breaking, wanting desperately to say something or do something. But he found himself at a loss. This was a situation that he had never been in before. Merry could count the number of times they had disagreed on one hand, and he could not remember either one of them being upset with the other for longer than an hours time more than twice in their lives. The only other time Pippin had been truly mad at him, and been at his birthday, when Pippin had confessed to loving him and Merry and been too afraid to admit that he felt the same. He hadn't really gotten himself out of that mess, either. Frodo and Sam had. Silently, Pippin roughly laid a plate of fried ham and potatoes on the table in front of Merry. He stalked back to the stove, and returned with a plate of scones, which was also dropped unceremoniously onto the table. Merry's eyes never left Pippin. He watched him, hoping for a word or a glance. Pippin never said a word, and did not look at Merry once. "You are not going to eat?" Merry asked softly, when he noticed that Pippin had not set a plate for himself, and was busying himself at the washbasin. "Not hungry." Pippin said, not looking up from the dishes. Pervinca winced at the sound of someone knocking, or rather, pounding, on the door. Her head still hurt, moreso from her conversation with Saradoc than from the knock she had taken when she had fainted. "Come in." The offending pounder, which turned out to be Danelle, obliged, bursting through the door, red-faced and panting. "Parents." She heaved. Pervinca thought Danelle looked like she had ran from one end of Brandy Hall to the other. "Your parents." Danelle managed. "Here." "What?" "Yes." Danelle said, finally catching her breath. She had come running from the other end of Brandy Hall. The guestroom that Pervinca had taken was one of the farthest from the front door. "They just arrived. With Nel." "Lady's grace!" Pervinca cursed. She had come here with Danelle deliberately to get away from them. And after her conversation with Saradoc, her parents were the last people she wanted to see. With the possible exception of Pimpernel. "Your father saw me, and asked me which rooms you had taken." Danelle warned. "What did you tell him?" Pervinca asked. "What could I tell him?" Danelle responded. "I couldn't very well say I didn't know." Pervinca cursed again, a bit more foully than before. Danelle raised an eyebrow at her. "I told him you were napping." Danelle offered. Pervinca's face lit up like an oil lamp. "Oh, you are a wonder!" She exclaimed. "That will give me some time." "To do what?" "Pack." Pervinca said, hopping of the bed. She snatched up her pack and started randomly shoving clothes into it. "Where are you going?" Danelle asked. "Crickhollow." Pervinca said. "What?" Danelle looked horrified. "I can't tell your father that!" "I know." Pervinca said. "What am I going to tell him, then?" "You are a bright girl, Danelle." Pervinca said with a wink. "You'll think of something, I am, sure." Pervinca breathed a sigh of relief as she caught sight of the door. One of Brandy Hall's numerous side-doors, one close to her guestroom, and far, far away from the front door, or any room that her parents would have taken. She knew that she would not be able to avoid her family forever, as appetizing as the thought sounded. She would have to deal with them at some point. And even if she contrived some reason to stay in Brandy Hall after the wedding, she would have to go back to the Smials, eventually. More and more, she wondered if getting married was not as mortifying an idea as she had once thought. If nothing else, she would have her own burrow to hid in, and she would not have to come out unless she wanted too. But lads were a bother. Lasses were a bother, too, now that she thought about it, but lads were worse. And there were not many lads that she could ponder at having to look at all day, every day without her stomach getting queasy. She wished fervently, and not for the first time, that there were more lads lying about the Shire like Frodo. More lads who appreciated quiet things like books and gardens, more lads whose behavior tended towards quiet humor rather than boisterous braying. More lads that looked like Frodo, if nothing else. Frodo himself was out of the question. He was about ten years too old, not that age bothered her, but he preferred lads, to boot. Or rather, he preferred Samwise Gamgee. She chuckled to herself, and at the ridiculousness of her train of thought. She was well aware that she was not the first lass in the Shire to entertain thoughts of locking herself in Bag End with the odd, blue-eyed hobbit. She was also aware that she was the only lass in the Shire to know the uselessness of such meandering. Almost as useless as thinking about Melilot. Another sigh of relief, for reaching the door free and clear, caught in her throat as she felt a tap on the shoulder. Her stomach clenched when she turned around, but she managed a thin smile. "Master Brandybuck." She managed politely. It could have been worse, it could have been her father. "Leaving so soon?" He asked. "I was thinking of taking a walk." She said benignly. "A walk." Saradoc repeated, noting her pack with a dry smile. "Do you normally take everything you own with you when you walk?" Pervinca pursed her lips at him, and favored him with a flat look. "Your parents are here." He said quietly. He gave her pack a pointed look, telling her that he knew exactly why she was 'going for a walk' "I know." Pervinca replied. She glanced down at her pack, then looked back up at Saradoc with pleading eyes. Saradoc gave her a long, appraising glance, and frowned, his lips moving slightly, as if he was arguing with himself. "I haven't seen you." Saradoc muttered. "Oh, thank you!" She exclaimed, capturing Saradoc in a hug. He went stiff when her arms went around him, and grunted as her pack slipped down her arm and slammed into his side. "I haven't seen you," he said, patting her back awkwardly, "provided that you will do me a favor." "What is that?" She asked, pulling away from him to peer at him suspiciously. "That you will give my son a message." He said softly. "But I don't…" Saradoc silenced her with a flat look and a sharp gesture. She opened her mouth again to protest, but snapped it shut again, and blushed. "Tell him that his mother and I love him, and that he is missed." Saradoc said slowly. He paused, and chewed his lip thoughtfully before continuing. "Tell him that if he wishes to come home, he is more than welcome." Pervinca nodded silently, trying to suppress the satisfied smile that was creeping across her face. Saradoc paused once more, and he again made a face like he was arguing with himself. "And tell him that he is also welcome to bring Pippin with him." He said finally. Saradoc dropped his eyes, and after a brief study of the floor, he turned and started down the hallway. Pervinca let the smile take form as she watched him walk away, and it spread so wide that it threatened to take over her face. >i>One, she thought to herself smugly, as she turned back towards the door. She whistled to herself as she pushed open the back door to Brandy Hall, and started down the path to the main road with a spring in her step. Pippin went through the motions of making supper stiffly, setting the needed items on the counter with a bit more force than necessary. He kept a eye on Merry as he cooked, and glowered at supper with the other eye like the roast beef and potatoes had caused him some form of harm. Merry, banished to the other side of the houses' main room by Pippin's cold stares and gruff responses, had ceased to look up when Pippin slammed the provender on the counter. He had at first, but looking up had only made Pippin toss the food around more violently. Now, he was studiously avoiding looking towards the kitchen area at all, though he did flinch slightly each time a thud echoed through the house. Pippin, fully in the throes of a tweenaged tantrum, was acting angry to hide that he was hurt. He was angry, but in truth, the thought that Merry still viewed him as a child was more painful than infuriating. Not that he was going to let Merry know that. Let the lummox think I am angry, he thought bitterly. He stirred the beef gravy ferociously, making it slop over the sides of the pot, before slamming the spoon on the counter with a satisfying thwack. He noticed Merry flinch as the sound of the spoon hitting the counter reached Merry's ears, and smiled slightly, despite his indignation. But the smile slipped as Merry dared a glance towards the kitchen. He scowled at Merry, and stirred the simmering beef almost as violently as the gravy. Pippin glanced over at Merry again, and tears welled in his eyes, just as he was almost overwhelmed with the urge to whap Merry on the head with his spoon. Pippin blinked back the tears furiously, not wanting Merry to see him cry, and held onto the spoon with a white-knuckled grip. Merry plainly thought of him as a toy. He was old enough to bed, but not old enough to think for himself. Pippin finished preparing dinner in a flurry of loud, violent motions. He slammed the spoon down one more time for effect, and wiped his hands on his apron. He turned around, to find that Merry's chair was empty. The front door to the small house was still ajar. Merry had slipped out so quietly that Pippin had not even heard him leave. Pippin sank down on the kitchen floor, and started to cry. Paladin Took had not been looking forward to this visit for many reasons. He had dragged his feet about leaving the Smials as long as he could, only to be reminded every hour on the hour, by his wife, that Pimpernel's bairn would not cease to grow simply because he did not wish to confront Berilac's father on the issue. In truth, Merimac Brandybuck was the smallest of his concerns. As much as he was not looking forward to the conversation, he had a notion of the way it would go. Merimac would curse for a few minutes, and mumble a few apologies on his son's behalf. Then he would bring the boy in, berate him for a few more minutes, and insist that the lad do the right thing at once. The hobbit he was really in no hurry to see was Saradoc. Paladin glanced over at his wife as they walked through Brandy Hall's main corridor, and his sense of unease grew firmer. He could tell by the blank expression on Eglantine's face that she was in no hurry to see Saradoc as well. She seemed to be taking Pimpernel's condition in stride. Learning of Pimpernel's bairn had caused his wife to show the closest thing to emotion he had seen out of her since Pippin had run off. She was suddenly warm and caring again, at least where Pimpernel was concerned, and whenever she saw their daughter she was all soft words and warm smiles. But now, even with Pimpernel walking right next to her, she was again hiding behind her implacable mask of cool indifference. Paladin wondered, not for the first time in nearly thirty years, if Eglantine regretted the way things turned out. He had never worried that Eglantine had returned to Saradoc's bed after they had married, not that he had given her much of a chance. He had rarely let Eglantine out of his sight since they had been married, especially if Saradoc was around. When he was around, Eglantine was always polite, but short, and never seemed to favor Saradoc with more than passing notice, but still, after all these years, Paladin wondered if she really no longer cared for him, or if she was just simply resigned. He had also been enjoying his brief respite from Pervinca. While she had only left the Smials a week ahead of him, it had been a week of peace and quiet, with out her frowning and scowling at him at every opportunity. That was another thing that Paladin wondered on; what mad fancy had made Pervinca such a fierce crusader for Pippin's cause. Pervinca had been the one that spirited Pippin out of the Smials to begin with, delivering him right back into Merry's arms. And though he could not prove it, he was convinced that Pervinca was the one hiding the pair where no one could find him. Either her, or that meddling Baggins and that gardener of his. But the less said about Frodo Baggins and his gardener, the better. Even now that Pippin was where Pervinca though he should be, with Merry, she was still not satisfied. She determined that he and her mother accept the situation, nevermind what people would said, and nevermind the effect such a situation could have on things like family lines. Pippin had duties and responsibilities. Duties and responsibilities that would not wait just because he had it in his brain that he was in love with a lad, and Meriadoc Brandybuck, to boot. All things considered, he was dreading Saradoc the most. He and his former lover had not said more than a handful of words to each other on the situation concerning their sons, even when the Brandybuck had traveled to the Smials after Merry had been banished. They had had one, short, uncomfortable conversation in the topic in the last two years. "I understand you have removed my son from your burrow." Saradoc said. Saradoc furrowed him brow, and crossed his arms across his chest. "That I did." He replied. Paladin frowned back at Saradoc, wondering if the hobbit was being deliberately thick. He had explained the entire situation in the letter he had written to Esmeralda. "And why, Master Took, would you do something like that?" Saradoc asked. Paladin cursed under his breath when he saw Saradoc cock an eyebrow in confusion. Obviously, Esmeralda had decided to keep the contents of the letter to herself. He took a deep breath, and forced himself to meet Saradoc's eye. "I removed you son from my burrow because he has been bedding my son." "Oh." Saradoc replied simply. The look on Saradoc's face at that moment infuriated Paladin to this day. Not only had Saradoc not had the decency to look abashed, he had not looked overly surprised, either. Of course, Eglantine had not seemed surprised, herself, when she found out. Nor had Esmeralda. And Pimpernel's righteous indignation at no longer being able to wed Merry led him to believe that she had had an inkling of what was going on, as well. Apparently, he was the only hobbit in the Shire that had not seen it coming a mile and a half off. That was the most infuriating thing of all. Paladin Took prided himself on being brighter that the average hobbit, and he very much disliked being left in the dark. In this case, he had not been able to see the Old Forest for the trees, when it was the most obvious thing in Middle-Earth to everyone else, and that was a purely maddening notion. "Mister Merry?" Mattias Bolger inquired, pushing the already ajar door open. Mattias normally knocked, as the pair inside seemed to be continually carrying on. Since the door was already open, he figured they could not be at anything too unseemingly, and decided to go on inside. "Master Pippin?" He asked, disturbed by the unnatural quiet in the small house. Mattias Bolger frowned, surveying the inside of the seemingly empty house. The pair were not prone to leaving the house, for reasons that he did not fully understand. Something about Mister Pippin's father not liking Mister Merry, and Mister Pippin not wanting to have to go home. He supposed that it had quite a bit to do with the way the two were always carrying on in a way that did not befit lads, but Mattias was not paid to ask questions. He was paid to keep quiet, and since Master Baggins paid him well, he kept as quiet as a mouse. "Mister Merry?" Mattias tried again. Maybe he had been mistaken about the open door. He was starting to think that they were otherwise engaged, and that if he peeked in the bedroom he would get an eyeful of something that he did not need to see. "He's not here." Came a muffled voice. Mattias ventured further into the house, and peered after the sound of the voice. He gave a sharp gasp when he found it. Mister Pippin was curled up small on the floor of the kitchen, crying like a girl-child. "Mister Pippin?" Mattias asked, rushing over to him. "Are you well?" Pippin looked up at him sadly. He gathered himself quickly, sitting up and wiping his eyes. He took a few deep breaths, and smiled weakly at Mattias. "I think I will live." He said quietly. "You've not been harmed?" Mattias asked, eyeing the younger hobbit suspiciously. He could not understand what else would have caused the lad to be weeping as he was. "No, I am not harmed." Pippin said. He stood, and took a seat at the table. "Only heartbroken." "Heartbroken?" Mattias repeated. "I love him so much." Pippin said. "I just wish……" Mattias pursed his lips as Pippin trailed off, unsure of what to say. He had always assumed that the pair loved each other, he could not fathom that they would abide living in hiding, away from their families, if they were only bedding each other for play. But at the same time, it was odd to hear a lad speaking of love about another lad. "Did you and Mister Merry have a disagreement?" Mattias ventured. "Yes." Pippin said miserably. "He is stubborn and insensitive. I got mad at him for it, and now he is mad at me for being mad at him." "Oh." Mattias said. "Why don't you talk to him about it, then?" "But I am still mad." Pippin said stubbornly. "They why were you cryin'?" "Because he is mad, and it hurts." Pippin replied petulantly. Mattias frowned, again unsure what to say. He had no experience in this area. He and his wife had only been married for two years, but they had practically been in love since they were born. In all those years, they had never had a disagreement, and suddenly Mattias was glad for it, because it sounded hopelessly confusing. "He'll be comin' back." Mattias said. "Of course he will." Pippin said bitterly. "He has no place else to go." "No, no, Mister Pippin." Mattias said. "He'll be comin' back because he loves you." "I don't know." Pippin mumbled. "I doubt he'd be stayin' holed up here with only you for company for the last two years if he was not lovin' you." Mattias said. "Maybe he is tired of me." Pippin mused. "Beggin' your pardon, Mister Pippin, but I don't think that is way of things." Mattias said. "Why do you say that?" Pippin asked. "Every time I come here, you two are kissin' and such." Mattias said, his cheeks reddening. "You two carry on enough for five hobbits, and from that I, think it is safe to say he's not tired of you." "Thank you, Maddy." Pippin said, smiling. He reached out and squeezed the older hobbit's hand. "You have made me feel a lot better." Thus ends Chapter Fifteen, as Pervinca tells it. Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Sixteen Back to the Blue Book