S.R. 1413
It was the first night of Lithe: the Free Fair had begun. Brilliantly-colored lanterns peppered the White Downs, lighting tents and vending booths. Music, laughter, and the smells of food were everywhere. Older hobbits sat to eat and smoke, and younger ones hurried excitedly to join in the dancing.
Pippin thought it was one of the best dances he had been to. Maybe it was because he had on his favorite pink weskit with yellow buttons-that always made him happy, although he was embarrassed to admit it. It also could have been the grass, which felt particularly nice and cool under his feet as he moved.
But it was probably because this year, one of the Boffin gammas had set up her mushroom pie stand right next to the little field where the dance was, and its scent continually floated by Pippin. Between switching partners, he often found himself sniffing it with his eyes shut dreamily.
"Pippin!" Merry shouted through the noise on one such occasion, startling him out of his trance.
"Merry! I didn't see you there!" Pippin did a double take. He let go of his latest partner, an annoyed Wisteria Proudfoot, and skipped to the edge of the dance with his best friend.
"Nice weskit," Merry laughed, when they had gotten sufficiently out of the way of the fast-moving crowd.
"Thanks," Pippin said with a bright smile, which quickly turned to a frown. "Oi! Don't make fun!"
"It's pink!"
"It's my most beautiful, favorite weskit! My grandmum sewed it for me," Pippin asserted, though he began to laugh too.
"I have very important news for you," Merry said when they had finished giggling.
"You found kittens?"
"What? No-"
"A barrel of apples?"
"No-"
"You bought me stuffed mushrooms?!"
"No!"
"Well, what then?" Pippin frowned. "Now that you've disappointed even my mushroom hopes..."
"Is that all you ever think about?" Merry sighed.
"Well... Yes!" beamed Pippin with starry eyes.
"You're hopeless," Merry rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Anyway, Fatty asked me to remind you that you're supposed to be playing bass in half an hour."
"Lawks!" Pippin gasped in horror. He had completely forgotten: he had said he would be with the band at eight o'clock. "But I don't even know where my bass is!"
Merry patted him on the shoulder sympathetically, and then Pippin dashed out into the dimness of the lantern-lit fair.
He would have to find it quickly. He had set the huge instrument in the green sometime that morning: but that was before most of the vendors had set up their tents and stands. It was now either pushed to the corner of some gaffer's tent or out in the darkness of the nearby fields, where no lanterns had been set up. How could he possibly find it in time? He cursed his foolishness; he ought to have left it by the stage.
After wandering aimlessly for a while, Pippin sat down on a bench to think, his face propped in his hands. Maybe he could buy a new bass from a vendor somewhere. No, that wouldn't do, because his bass was specially made-but he supposed maybe he could adjust for the emergency? But even so, he might have to search the whole fair to find anyone selling instruments...
Reluctant to face the impossible issue at hand, Pippin studied the small pavilion across the way. It was of a thin white fabric with tiny pink floral details, most likely a bed sheet, suspended in the air by four wooden poles. But more interestingly, underneath the pavilion were about ten or fifteen hobbit children, and they listened intently to Diamond, who sat on the grass among them reading a book aloud.
Pippin smiled when he saw his dear friend: he had wondered why she left the dance an hour before him. She was on daycare duty, and seemed to be enjoying it very much. She added drama to each word of the story, so that the children leaned in and sometimes gasped, or interrupted to remark on the plot's developments. Pippin had never seen her speak so clearly and with such enthusiasm.
Diamond had changed greatly since that morning six years ago, when he had promised not to give up on her. She had grown up: she was still naturally inclined toward seriousness and quietude, but had become brave, patient, cheerful, and much less fragile. Her somewhat strange features were made more endearing by the light of confidence that shone through them-yes, she was beautiful, Pippin thought. Her growing wisdom and kindness made her so. He was glad to think that someday, when Diamond had come of age, she would marry some gentlehobbit and live happily ever after.
After about ten minutes had passed, the story was finished, and Diamond hugged the book with a delighted sigh as the children clapped. One small hobbit-maid began to cry.
"Oh, Ruby-lass, why are you crying?" asked Diamond.
"That ending, 'twas just so nice," Ruby said quietly, rubbing away her tears.
"Yes, it makes me cry sometimes too." Diamond smiled comfortingly. The girl smiled back. For a minute the group was caught up in a thoughtful silence.
"Now, how about another story, or would you all like to play a game?" Diamond finally addressed the children, who then began to talk squeal as they decided what to do next.
At that moment, Diamond looked up and noticed Pippin watching her; he looked away instinctively out of embarrassment. But she had seen him, and waved, and he of course returned the gesture.
"Just a tick, I'll be right back," Diamond said above the children's shouting for more stories. They groaned.
She picked up her pale purple skirts and stepped around the children to the corner of the tent, where something lay under a blanket. She pushed the covering away and held up Pippin's lost bass, then carefully made her way over to him with it.
"Diamond! How did you-?" exclaimed Pippin, jumping up and running toward her as soon as he noticed her burden.
"I found it on the grass when I was setting up my tent. You really should be more careful, Peregrin!" She laughed, handing the big thing over to him.
"Bless you, sweet wonderful Diamond!" he leaned the instrument against the bench and, taking her head in his hands, he kissed the top of it with joy. In an instant he had already picked up the bass and started off toward the dancing field.
"Well, good-bye then!" Diamond called.
"Sorry, no time to talk! Good-bye! Thanks!" He replied, looking back as he ran. He made it to the stage with mere minutes to spare.
Pippin played in the band for three hours, after which he was thoroughly exhausted. It had gotten late, and most of the hobbitfolk were preparing to leave for the night. Even Merry was unusually tired: when Pippin finally quit the stage, he found his best friend asleep at a picnic table.
"Merry, wake up, it's time to leave," whined Pippin, shaking Merry by the arm. But Merry only snored louder. "Well, I'm not carrying you to cousin Frodo's, if that's what you think..."
No reply.
He sighed and decided he would just have to leave without Merry. There was no point waiting for him to wake, and he knew his way to Bag End anyway.
At first Pippin started toward the lane, but seeing that it was crowded with other festival-goers making their way back to homes and inns, he decided to cut across the lawn of the Downs outside the festival grounds.
The air felt refreshingly cool as he trudged down the first hill. Grasshoppers sang and a slow breeze rustled the dewy turf. A full moon shone bright, and with it countless stars looked down on the deep blue world. It was that sort of night that evokes fearlessness: nature seems astir with wonder and beauty, and all you can think of to do is run or roll on the ground or throw your head back, because no one is there to make you feel silly about it.
Pippin, however, was a little too tired to do any of those things; so he closed his eyes and started to sing.
He stopped when he heard giggling in the distance.
He had thought he was alone-but then, he was never terribly aware of his surroundings. Sure enough, when he looked behind him, there was Diamond, holding her skirts with dainty pallid fingers and wading through the tall grass of the hillock he had descended earlier. She was accompanied by Rosie Cotton.
"Oh! Hullo Peregrin!" They greeted when they noticed him, quickening their pace to catch up.
"Hullo Diamond, Rosie," Pippin replied, trying to hold back a yawn.
"Are you avoiding the crowd in the lane too?" Rosie asked. Now all three were walking side by side.
Pippin nodded tiredly.
"Well, 'tis good that we found you. Lasses should have someone around to protect them when walking in the dark like this," smiled Rosie.
"Of course," Pippin flexed his arms dramatically. "And I'm exceedingly strong, you know."
The girls laughed; Pippin frowned.
Silence for a while. They walked over a few small hills, and into a flat meadow dotted with baby's breath and daisies. Pippin stopped looking at his feet to gaze at it. He thought it was familiar.
Diamond trailed behind a little, slowing down as she also looked at the meadow. "Peregrin," she whispered. She spoke as if the place were sacred, unwilling to permeate its solemn atmosphere with noise. "Do you remember this place?"
They both stopped. Rosie did not notice, and kept walking.
"Yes," whispered Pippin after thinking a minute. "The secret place. I haven't been here since I was ten."
They closed their eyes and listened.
"I still come here to read sometimes, when I really want to be alone," Diamond confessed. Pippin gave a quiet chuckle.
"I know, it's silly right?" Diamond laughed too. "But, there is a kind of magic here. It always lifts my spirits."
More silence. She bent and picked a few buttercups. Pippin noticed how the moon lit the edges of her hair and the bunched fabric of her dress: thin highlights atop neat chocolate curls and smooth lavender folds.
"Come on!" Rosie called, having noticed their delay. "At this pace, it shall be past midnight when we reach the Bywater!"
Pippin looked toward Rosie and scratched the back of his head, feeling foolish. Diamond stood up straight with a fist full of the flowers.
They glanced at each other, laughed awkwardly, and then walked on.