Wherever You Are Is Home Chapter Four - "Sickness of the Heart" It is 1390 in the Shire Reckoning Pippin is 9, Merry is 17, Sam is 19, Pimpernel is 20, and Frodo is 31 "I don't want to go to the stupid party." "Pippin." Merry said in a flat, weary tone. It was not the first time he and Pippin had had this conversation. "Well, I don’t want to." Pippin drug his furry feet, kicking up a cloud of dirt as he moved down the road. "You have to go." Merry said, frowning. He couldn't understand why Pippin was so against going to this party; he rarely passed up an excuse to eat all day and play as much as he wanted. Even if it meant he had to comb his hair and wear his fancy waistcoat. He realized that Pippin had stopped walking and paused to turn back to him, tapping his foot impatiently. "And hurry up." "Why?" Pippin. "Because." Merry said, looking down at him. He didn't have to look as far down as he used to. Pippin had grown a bit in the last summer. "It is Pearl's birthday." "But I don’t want to!" "She is your sister." Merry said. "So?" Pippin was so furious that Merry could almost smell it. "Peregrin Took!" Merry snapped. "You are going, and that is the end of it." He winced as he said it, knowing full well that it was not the end of it. They would have this conversation at least twice more before they reached Bag End tonight, and probably three more times tomorrow on the way to the Smials. "But I don’t want to." Pippin said again. Merry sighed. He had known that Pippin would start this conversation again, but he had not thought that Pippin would start it again so soon. At least last time he had waited an hour. "You are going." Merry said sharply. "Because I am going, and I certainly cannot show up without you." It was a lame excuse, but at least it was a new one. His original excuse had only succeeded in the conversation happening again. And again. "Then don’t go." Pippin replied. He brightened, thinking that he had found a hole in Merry's reasoning. "If you don’t go, then I don't have to go." "But I am going." Merry said. He smiled to himself, amused by Pippin's circular logic. "Why?" Pippin whined. He eyed Merry sideways, and frowned at him like is was his fault that Pearl was having a birthday. "Because Pearl is your sister, and it is her birthday." "But I don't like Pearl." "Pippin!" Merry said, reaching out and pinching his arm. Merry knew Pippin was telling the truth, and he hated to chide him for being honest, but it would not do for Pippin to go around saying he didn't like his sister. If someone heard Pippin saying that, the boy would get a switching for it. However, because Merry was the older, responsible one, he would take the blame for it in the end. "I don't know why you care." Pippin said. "You don’t like Pearl, either." "That is not true." Merry said, glad that Pippin was walking along side him, unable to look directly into his face and see the lie. He didn't really dislike Pearl, but she was older, and nosy, and meddling, and it made her difficult to like sometimes. "But--" Pippin started, but he stopped when he saw the look on Merry's face. Merry looked like he was about to stuff his handkerchief into Pippin's mouth so he could walk the rest of the way to Bag End in peace. "The party will be fun." Merry said. "Besides, Pearl will be so busy that you probably won’t even have to talk to her for more than ten minutes." Pippin grumbled, but didn’t argue. He had been arguing all morning, and it had not gotten him anywhere. He didn't really care about Pearl's birthday; he just did not want Merry going to the Smials. But he could not just tell Merry that, because he would have to explain. And he didn't want to explain. "I love you, Merry." Pippin said, randomly. "I love you, too." Merry sounded a bit suspicious. Pippin said he loved him constantly, but random declarations usually meant that he was up to something. Resigned, Pippin did not resume the argument. He wasn't going to win, and if he continued to harangue Merry he was going to get upset and shout, and if Merry shouted, he would cry. He always cried when Merry shouted at him. Pippin smiled widely at his cousin. Merry made a show of ignoring him, but Pippin could see the corners of his mouth twitch as he fought a smile. Pippin grabbed his cousin's hand and squeezed it, and held it tight until the reached Bag End. "You must be hungry after a long days walkin'." Merry leaned back on the couch in Bag End's sitting room, and smiled at Samwise Gamgee. He smiled so widely that Sam blushed a deep red and scurried into the kitchen, muttering to himself. Sam returned shortly with a teakettle and two cups, which he set on the table in front of Merry. Merry smiled at him in amusement, and Sam frowned back at him with obvious unease. Concerned that Sam would give himself fits, Merry poured himself a cup. Sam nodded to himself, and returned to the kitchen. "Are you sure I can't bring you anything?" Sam asked from the doorway. Merry and Pippin had arrived at an inopportune time for poor Sam. Frodo was in the bath and Bilbo was napping, leaving Sam to entertain the two younger hobbits. At a loss as to what to do with Merry and Pippin, Sam had tried to feed them no less that six times in the last half hour. "I have some bread, just baked this morning." Seven. "No, no Sam. We are quite alright." Merry replied, stroking Pippin's hair absently. Pippin was asleep, stretched out on the couch with his head in Merry's lap. "Are you sure, Mister Merry?" "Why don’t you come sit down." He asked, gesturing at Sam with the cup of tea that the he had pressed upon him. "Beggin' your pardon, Mister Merry, but I have so much to do, and it won’t wait on me sippin' tea, if you take my meaning." Sam replied. Sam sounded earnest, but he made no move to get on with whatever desperately needed his attention. "I have seen more and more of you on our last visits." Merry said conversationally. He didn't know Sam well, but as Sam was starting to be a permanent fixture at Bag End, now was as good a time as any to get to know him. "Are you and your father both working for Bilbo, now?" "Yes and no." Sam said, nervously. "I mostly help my Gaffer, but as he is getting' on in years, I have been doing more and more for Mister Bilbo so my Gaffer doesn’t have to." "That must be nice for Frodo, to have someone nearer his age around." Merry said. Sam blushed furiously and looked extremely uncomfortable at the mention of Frodo's name, and Merry wondered if Frodo and Sam disliked each other. It didn't seem possible; Frodo was odd sometimes, but was never hard to get along with. It also seemed impossible that Frodo would not take to someone as honest and well-meaning as Samwise Gamgee. "Mister Frodo is a joy." Sam said eventually, but looked very embarrassed for saying it. "Are you sure you won't join me?" Merry asked, twirling one of Pippin's curls around his finger. He caught Sam looking at him, and made a point to sip the tea. "Honestly, Mister Merry, my work ain't doin' itself." Sam waved a hand through the kitchen door. "I should be getting back to it, or my Gaffer will be havin' to do more than he is fit for." Pippin shifted on the couch and made a series of fitful, uncomfortable noises. Lifting Pippin gently, Merry turned and leaned his back against the arm of the couch, tucking one leg under him and letting the other hang over the cushions. Then he carefully pulled Pippin up and laid him against his chest. Still sleeping, Pippin wrapped his arms around Merry and nestled his head under his chin. "Brat." Merry whispered to him fondly. "All you ever do is sleep. Or eat." He kissed Pippin's curls, and stroked his back. "Mister Merry." Sam said from the kitchen door. "Are you sure I can't bring you a bite? That bread is already baked, Mister Merry, it wouldn’t be any trouble. Or I could fry up some bacon." He looked at Merry hopefully. "Wouldn’t take more than a minute." Merry was going to refuse, but Sam looked quite miserable. "Alright, Sam, you win." "What would you like, Mister Merry?" Sam asked excitedly. "Whatever you have handy." Merry replied. "Please, don’t go to any bother." Merry was quite sure, however, that telling Samwise Gamgee not to go to any bother was like telling the sun not to rise. "You shouldn't tease Sam." Frodo said randomly, chewing on the end of his pipe. "What?" Merry asked, truly confused. He had no recollection of poking fun at the Sam. He frowned at Pippin, who was once again sleeping in his lap, and wondered if the lad had said something unpolite to the gardener. "Not the imp," Frodo said, following Merry's gaze. "You." "Did Sam tell you I teased him?" Merry asked. He frowned at Pippin's sleeping face again for good measure. Frodo laughed at Merry's honest befuddlement. "No." Frodo said, a wisp of smoke escaping his lips. "But you nearly drove him to distraction when you wouldn't let him feed you." "But he did feed me!" Merry exclaimed. "I really didn't want him to go to any bother, but I didn't think he was going to leave off me unless I ate something." Frodo chuckled. "He has gotten some definite ideas about propriety from his Gaffer." "I noticed." Merry said wryly. "Oh, he means well." Frodo said. "Like I said, he has definite ideas. If Bag End has guests, then they are to be fed, and that is that as far as Sam is concerned." "Did he really think I was teasing him?" Merry asked. "He did." Frodo said. "But not about the food. He thought you were teasing when you asked him to sit with you." "I really was not." Merry said. "He seems like a nice lad, and since is working here, I thought I would get to know him." "He is a nice lad." Frodo said. Merry thought his tone grew warmer. "I would very much like for Sam and I to be friends, but he is set in his ways. He gets quite flustered when I ask him to join me for a meal." "Has he ever?" "He will, now and then." Frodo said. "He wouldn't at first, and would get all fussy about how it wasn't fitting. I finally coaxed him into it a few months past. Now, every once and awhile he will humor me when I ask." "Don’t worry." Merry said. "I remember Bilbo telling me that his Gaffer was fussy when he started working here, but they managed to become dear friends over the years. Sam will come around." "I hope so." Frodo said. It might have been the way the firelight was playing across Frodo's face, but Merry was quite sure that Frodo was blushing. "Come on, Pip." Merry said, prodding the lump under the blanket. "We have to get going." "I don’t feel good." Pippin said. He made a pitiful face, and groaned. "What?" Merry asked. He sat on the edge of the bed, and studied his younger cousin. "You look fine." "But I don’t feel fine." Pippin whined. "What doesn't feel fine?" Merry asked. "Your stomach? Your head?" "Both." Pippin said. He gave another moan, and clutched his stomach under the blankets. "Pippin, are you playing with me?" "No, Merry. Honest. I don't feel good." "Mister Merry?" Merry turned to see Sam in the doorway. "I was wondering what you and Mister Pippin wanted for second breakfast before--" He paused when his glance fell on Pippin, who looked piteous. "Is the lad alright?" "Pippin says he is not feeling well." Merry said. "Well, what is the matter, Mister Pippin?" Sam asked, taking a few steps into the room. "My tummy hurts, and my head." Sam leaned over Pippin, and laid his hand on his forehead. "Well, you aren't havin' a fever, I don't think." Sam considered Pippin for a moment. "How is your stomach hurtin'? Is it pained, or does it feel like your first breakfast is comin' back up?" "Both." Pippin said. Sam clucked his tongue thoughtfully. Then he pulled the blanket back and pressed Pippin's stomach in a few places. Pippin groaned fitfully each time Sam poked, and the gardener made sympathetic noises. Then Sam opened each of Pippin's eyes wide, and felt up and down each side of Pippin's throat. "Interesting." Sam said. Then he caught Merry's eyes, and made a slight nod towards the doorway with his head. Sam got up and walked out the door, and Merry followed him. "Is he alright?" Merry asked nervously. Sam shifted about uncomfortably, not wanting to speak. Merry gave him a reassuring look. Sam was about to speak, when Frodo poked his head bout of his room. "What is going on?" Frodo asked. "Pippin is sick." Merry said. "Samwise should take a look at him." Frodo said. "He knows what he is about. He has fixed me up when I was under the weather a few times." Sam blushed furiously at the praise, and looked even more uncomfortable. "Sam already had a look at him, but he won't tell me what he thinks." Merry replied. "Beggin' your pardon, Mister Merry." Sam whispered. "Is not really my place to be sayin' anything." "But?" Merry asked. "But, I am not findin' anything wrong with the lad." "What?" Merry asked incredulously. Sam gave a jump, and looked very apologetic. "You are saying that he is making it up?" "Well," Sam began, but trailed off. "Go on, Sam." Frodo encouraged. "Merry wouldn't have asked if he didn't want to know your mind." "Well, if he was my lad, and I know that he is not, mind, but if he was, I would be tellin' him to quit being a lay-about, and I'd be givin' him a good thump for tellin' tales." "Truly?" Merry looked at Sam's honest face, and knew that the gardener was telling the truth. "My gammer is a bit of a healer, Mister Merry, if you want me to get her." Sam offered. "Oh no, Sam, I believe you. If you say he is well, then he is well." "But why would be act sick if he isn't?" Frodo wondered. Merry slapped his forehead, and called himself three kinds of idiot. "Pearl's birthday." He announced. "What?" Frodo and Sam both asked. "Pearl's birthday party. He doesn’t want to go. He near drove me insane on the way here, arguing about it. I should have known he was up to something when he let the subject drop so abruptly." Suddenly, Merry's eyes flashed, and he got a mischievous look oh his face. Frodo groaned, remembering that face from when Merry had been a young boy at Brandy Hall. "What are you planning, Meriadoc?" Frodo asked. "Samwise?" Merry asked sweetly. "Do you think you mother would mind coming and having a look at the lad?" "Is this the poor, sick lad?" Bell Gamgee was sweet old lass, with a friendly smile and a kind word for everyone. Sam had told his mother that they were having a joke on Pippin, but Merry never would have guessed, the way she coddled the lying brat and fussed over him like he was the sickest little boy she had ever laid eyes on. "Dear, sweet child." She fussed, stroking his cheek. "I am just needin' a quick peek under the covers." Pippin looked plagued as she peeled the blankets back and poked at his stomach, just like her son had. "Oh, dearheart." She said, giving Pippin the widest, sympathetic eyes Merry had ever seen. "It must be hurtin' you something awful." Merry glanced at Frodo, who was almost crying from the strain of not laughing. Sam brought a hand to his mouth and looked everywhere but Pippin, trying desperately to keep a straight face. "Now, let me get a look at your precious face." Bell Gamgee said. She did the same bit that Sam had done, pulling open his eyes and feeling on his throat. She also peered up his nostrils and looked down his throat. She murmured to Pippin as she worked, assuring him that he was just the best little boy in the Shire. Merry was quite sure he was going to die. The need to laugh was growing painful, and every time he looked at Frodo or Sam and saw their discomfort, it got worse. "There, child." She said, patting Pippin's auburn curls. "You just rest easy, for a bit. I need to be havin' a word with the older lads." Bell Gamgee favored Pippin with another sappy smile, and herded the other hobbits into the hallway. Once in the hallway, Merry, Frodo and Sam nearly collapsed with silent giggles. Bell snickered a bit herself, and then patted at the lads until they were fit to speak. "The lad's as healthy as they come." Bell said, once the other three had composed themselves. Then she turned and raised an eyebrow at Merry. "Have you been ignorin' the lad, that he needs to be playin' sick to get attention?" Frodo gave a snort, and Sam choked so hard Merry thought he was going to die. "Ignored?" Then Frodo laughed. "I assure you, Mistress Gamgee, there is not a more spoiled lad in the Shire." "Well, I wouldn't know what he is on about then." Bell said. "But is not a bit wrong with him." She eyed Merry again. He smiled winningly, and she softened. Then Bell handed him a small bottle that she had produced from one of her apron pockets. "You give him a dose or two of this." "Medicine?" Merry asked. "But I thought he was fine?" "Oh, he is fine." She assured. "Its not medicine, but the lad isn't knowin' that." "What is it?" It was Sam who answered. "Black tea brewed too strong, with some pepper, a bit of pickle juice, and some vinegar." He made a face. "Won't heal a thing, but it won't be hurtin' him. Might make him think twice about playin' at sick again, if you are takin' my meaning." "How did you know?" Frodo asked him. And Bell Gamgee snorted. "Oh he knows." She said fondly. "Me boy was a lyin' brat once or twice, when he was the lads age." "Take your medicine, Pip." Merry said, trying to sound gentle. "What's the matter with me?" Pippin asked weakly. Merry had to admit, the boy did a fair job of acting sick. "Gammer Gamgee says you have a stomach flux." He said. "Oh." Pippin said. "So have a drink of this." Merry poured a swallow into a cup, and handed it to Pippin. Pippin eyed the stuff warily, and brought the cup halfway to his lips twice. "Go on." Merry coaxed. Pippin drank. His eyes bulged and watered, and his face turned bright red. He looked like he was going to spit it back into the cup, but Merry reached out and pinched his lips shut. Pippin fussed and kicked. Then, squeezing his eyes shut tight, he swallowed. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart." Merry soothed. "Wake up, Pip." Merry prodded him. "You need to take your medicine again." "No." Pippin said. "It tastes horrible." "I am sure it does." Merry said, trying not to smile. "But you need to take it, or you won’t get better." He offered Pippin the cup, which he eyed with disdain. "No." Pippin said again, shaking his head in with a flurry of auburn curls. "Peregrin Took." Merry warned. "You drink that, now." Pippin started to cry. Merry sat on the edge of the bed, unmoved. Pippin sobbed fitfully for a few moments. When Merry didn’t comfort him he stopped, snuffling. "Are you ready?" Merry asked, holding the cup out again. "I am not sick." Pippin said quietly. "What?" Merry asked, trying to appear shocked. "I said, I am not sick." Merry eyed the boy for a moment, allowing him to grow uncomfortable. "I know." "What?" Pippin's eyes widened. "I said, I know." "But--" "Sam knew there was nothing wrong with you." Merry explained. "What about the healer?" Pippin asked. "Sam's mother." Merry said. He could not help but be amused at the confusion on Pippin's face. "She is not a healer?" Pippin asked. "Oh, she is." Merry said. "But she knew there was naught wrong with you before she got here." Tears welled up in Pippin's green eyes as he realized that he had been tricked. He furrowed his brow, and stuck out his lower lip. He made a furious face, and then pointedly looked away from Merry. "Oh don’t you dare." Merry snapped, infuriated by Pippin's indignant expression. "Don’t you dare get mad, after you lied first." "You tricked me." Pippin shouted. "And you lied." Merry gave back. "So we are even." Pippin narrowed his eyes, but then dropped his gaze onto the blankets. "So why don’t you tell me why you don’t want to go to Pearl's party." Merry asked. "And don’t tell me that you just don’t want to, or that you don’t like her. I want the real reason." "I just don’t." Pippin said stubbornly to the blankets. "Fine, then." Merry said. "Get dressed. We are leaving for the Smials within the hour." "No!" Pippin yelled, looking back up at Merry. He balled his fists and beat at the bed. "Pip." Merry said. "Tell me." He scooted closer to Pippin, and patted his leg over the blanket. "Something is wrong, or you would not be so against going. Just tell me." Merry waited, but Pippin said nothing. Sighing, Merry got up, and tossed Pippin his tunic. "Get dressed." He said as he headed for the door. "I don’t want you to go to the Smials." Pippin said finally, when Merry was almost at the door. "Why?" Merry asked, hurt. "Are you mad at me?" "No." Pippin said. "I love you." "Then why?" Merry asked. "Because." Pippin said. He screwed his face up, searching for the right words. "I got a letter from Pervinca right before we left Brandy Hall." "Really?" Merry asked, surprised. He was not surprised that he had gotten a letter, Pervinca wrote Pippin regularly when he was away from the Smials. He was surprised that Pippin had not told him. When Pervinca had first started writing, Merry had used the missives to help Pippin learn his letters. Once Pippin could read by himself, he would bring them to Merry, and read them aloud proudly, wanting to show Merry how smart he was. "What did it say?" Merry asked gently. If he had not mentioned this one, something in it must have upset him. "You can tell me." "Pervinca over heard my Da talking." Pippin said. Tears welled up in his eyes again. He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his nightshirt, and took a steadying breath before continuing. "Da was talking to Ma about you." "Me?" Merry asked, stunned. A roiling, nervous feeling gnawed at his belly. If it was about him, and had upset Pippin, it must be horrid. "My Da wants you to marry Nel." Pippin said. Then he burst into tears. "What?" Merry choked, jumping up from the bed, and taking a few steps back. Married? That was the craziest thing he had ever heard. He wasn't old enough to get married. And to Pimpernel? "What?" He asked again. "Here." Pippin fished through the tunic that Merry had tossed at him. He dug through the pockets, and produced a folded piece of parchment. "You read it." Merry eyed the letter like it was a poisonous snake. He took it gingerly when Pippin shoved it at him, and got a sinking feeling in his stomach when he unfolded it.           Dear Pip,           How have you been? I wish you would           come home more often. We miss you.           Pearl does, too. Even if she won’t           admit it. She is excited about her           birthday. I don't know why, because           she is going to be old.           I know I wrote you last week, but I           have to tell you some thing and I           just couldn't wait. Da and Ma were           talking the other day, when they           didn't think I could hear them. Da           was telling Ma that he wants Pimpernel           to marry Merry. Ma got fussy about it,           and said that people would think Merry           and Nel are too closely related but           Da told her she was being silly. He           said that he is the Thain, and Uncle           Saradoc is the Master of Brandy Hall,           and they can do what they want.           I guess he wrote to Uncle Saradoc about           it, because he told Ma that Uncle           Saradoc thought it was a good idea           too, but they aren’t going to say           anything to Merry or Nel until they           get older.           Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Merry would           be like real family, not just cousins.           He would be our brother! Pearl might           be mad though. I heard her telling           Peony Hornblower once that she wanted           to marry Merry, because he was going           to be the Master of Brandy Hall one day.           That is just stupid, though, because           she is too old for him.           Hurry up and come home!           Love,           Vinca The sinking feeling in Merry's belly grew, and swallowed him whole. His knees buckled, and he sat down on the floor with a thud. "Is that why you didn't want to go to Pearl's party?" Merry asked softly. "Because of you Da wants me to marry your sister?" "Uh-huh." Pippin sniffed. He looked at Merry sadly, and then burst into tears again. The sobs were strong, making his whole body shake, and he began to wail. "Please don’t cry, Pip." Merry said. He forced his useless legs to work, and pulled himself up onto the bed. Shaking, he crawled over to lay next to Pippin. "But it hurts so much." Pippin choked out between the sobs. "It just hurts. I can't bear the thought of it." He looked over at Merry, and the sobs started anew. Merry sat up, and pulled Pippin into his lap. "Please, Pip. Don’t cry." He begged, unable to bear his cousin being so distraught. He rocked Pippin gently, and covered his face with kisses. "I won't see you ever again." Pippin sobbed. "Pippin--" Merry trailed off, unable to think. "No." Pippin said. He wrapped his arms around Merry so tightly that Merry found it difficult to breathe. "You and Nel will get rooms in Brandy Hall and I won't get to live with you anymore and you won't have time to play with me because you and Nel will have babies and you wont think about me anymore and I will miss you so bad it would kill me." Pippin sagged against Merry's chest, trying to catch his breath from the long string of words. "Stop, Pip. Please." Merry said, tears streaming down his face. Pippin's misery was so fierce that it was breaking Merry's heart, and his words were scaring him. "But it is true." Pippin said despondently. "It would kill me, because you wouldn’t be there anymore. I wouldn't get to play with you anymore, or take a nap on your chest. You wouldn’t be there to pull my hair or yell at me when I have been bad or tickle me or kiss my nose." He sobbed again, the force of it shaking Merry as well. "You wouldn't be there to tell me you love me." He tried to imagine his life without Pippin in it everyday. If he got married, Pippin would go back to living in the Smials. If Merry was tied down with a family, visits would be few, and it would never again be just the two of them. There would be no more picnics together, or swims in the river. They would never get to take naps together, or sit up all night talking. He tried to picture not seeing Pippin's sweet, smiling face everyday, and it made his chest hurt. "Listen, Pippin." Merry said, desperately. "You are getting upset for nothing." "Nothing?" Pippin pulled away from him, his face screwed up in anger. "I am never going to see you again, and you are saying that it is nothing." "That is not what I am saying, goose." Merry said, pulling Pippin back to him. "You will see me everyday until you die, if I have anything to do with it, because I love you." "I love you, too." Pippin squeezed him again. "But how are you going to see me everyday?" "Easy." Merry said with a wink. "I just won't marry her. It is not like they can make me." Merry sighed as he watched Pippin play, leaning against the bole of a tree. Pippin and a few other boys from the party were kicking a ball around in the grass. Pippin had wanted Merry to play, but Merry had had more too much ale for all that running around. A shadow fell over his field of view, and he looked up to see a girl standing over him. He eyed the girl in the poor light, and jumped to his feet, ale or no, when he saw who it was. "Pimpernel." He said pleasantly. He hoped he did not look as nervous as he felt. He had seen Nel numerous times since he and Pippin and the Bag End folk arrived, but he had been studiously avoiding being alone with her. "Meriadoc." She said, just as pleasantly. Merry did not note any nervousness in her tone, and she looked very calm and collected. They stayed silent for a long while, staring at each other and avoiding each other's eyes by turns. Finally, Pimpernel spoke. "Pervinca told me that she wrote Pippin." She said, almost sounding casual. "She did." Merry replied. "She is a damn fool." Nel said. "When she told me, I asked her not to mention it too him." She watched Pippin play for a few minutes, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "Is he upset?" "Yes." Merry said. "I knew he would be." Nel said. "It would break my heart to hurt him like that." "They can't make us get married if we don’t want to, can they?" Merry regretted the words as soon as they were out, and when Pimpernel's eyes flashed, he cursed himself, and the ale. "Do you not want to?" She asked. "It is not that." Merry said, trying to get his ale-muddled brain to choose the words carefully. "I was concerned that you would not want to." Nel eyed him suspiciously, and looked like she thought Merry was the biggest liar west of the Brandywine. "I would want to, if I did not know better." She said. "What?" "Oh, Meriadoc. You are my cousin, and I love you dearly" Nel said. She reached up and touched his face lightly. "You are more than pretty enough, and you are very sweet. And you will be the Master of Brandy Hall one day. I would have nothing to lose." "But?" Merry asked. "Pippin stole your heart the day he was born." She said. "There is no room in there for me." Thus ends Chapter Four, as Pervinca tells it. Chapter Three | Chapter Five Back to the Blue Book