Chapter 6 Pippin walked into the inn with determination spread on his face. Hearty laughter and the smell of ale permeated throughout the bar. Walking briskly, he made his way through drunken hobbit men to a table of businessmen. "Mr. Sweetgrass we need to talk," he stated solemnly. "Well boy," he chimed half-drunkenly, "go ahead and say what you want." Showing a solid face, Pippin once again spoke, "I would like to talk to you alone, sir." "Now, now son. Whatever you need to say can be heard by everyone. Speak up." "It's about Willow, sir, and her forced engagement." When Pippin said this, the color in my father's face drained. A few men looked at him suspiciously; he obviously wasn't open with his daughter's marital affairs.

"Let's go outside," he stood up and followed Pippin. The fresh air was a relief for the sober Peregrin. The two walked until they were far enough from the inn that any meandering hobbits probably wouldn't be eavesdropping on their secretive conversation. "What would you like to discuss?" a very serious Mr. Sweetgrass questioned. "You're forcing her into marriage with Otho Boffin!" Pippin yelled, quite surprised with his agitation. "It's for her own good, young man. She hasn't courted a lad in quite a while. She's almost of age anyway and I might as well push her of into a good direction anyways. Why do you care?" He asked, now curious of the mystery lad's concern, In truth, Pippin was not unknown to Bollo Sweetgrass; he seemed familiar, but he wasn't around his hole enough to realize this was my, his daughter's, very good friend. A smile crept on my father's face, "What's your name young man?" "Peregrin Took, sir," he said through gritted teeth. "Took? Took! Of the Tooks of Great Smials?" my father queried loudly in surprise. Pippin just nodded curtly. "Aye, son," he asked again, more interested on what Pip had to say, "What business is my daughter of yours?" "Willow, sir, is a very good friend of mine and I find it disgusting that you are forcing her into marriage she does not agree to," he responded coldly. Pushing further, my meddling father asked, "What, then, do you have in mind young lad?" Pippin's emotion changed to questionable doubt, "I.don't know. Just let her choose her own life."

My father frowned, "I'm afraid I can't do that. The Boffins' have money, money our family needs. Mr. Boffin is a wealthy business partner of mine and more than once has he hinted his son's interest of Willow. Hard times are here, reorganizing the entire Shire. Money is tight, and my family is my first priority. Now, unless you have a better idea, Otho's money overrules my daughter's decision. Besides, she'll grow to like him," he finished with a defiant sigh. "Sir," Pippin thought slowly, "What would you say if I was willing to pay you twice as much for Willow's freedom?" My father grabbed his chest in disbelief, "Do you know how much Otho is willing to pay? I'll tell you! More than some hobbits have earned in their lifetime! And you're going to pay double that? You're insane Mr. Took, clearly insane." "I'm willing to do it for Willow, sir. Do we have a deal?" Pippin was growing impatient. Was he going to agree or not? He let out a sigh of exasperation. My father answered obviously happy with Pippin's declaration of such a deal, "Of course we do young fellow. Let me just get the papers. But let me tell you, the Boffins' won't be happy." He must have pictured them, as his face turned to a grotesque expression. After the paperwork was finish, Pip set out now to tell me the relieving news. As though reading my mind, he set out to Estella's hole.
* * * I fell down, heaving, out of breath. I had been running for at least a half hour now. The sun had set not long ago. Branches scraped across my cheeks, but by then, I cared not. After speaking to Estella, I realized the only way to be happy was to run far away. Run away from Pippin. Run away from Otho.