Title: Blasted Lasses

Author: AshLight

Summary: Pippin wishes to go on another Quest. Certain parties are unimpressed by the idea.

Category: Romance/Humour

Rating: PG

Calm. Easy. Breathe. I am a proud, noble, and above all, brave Took. I am a Knight of Gondor, I'm known throughout that fine land as 'Ernil i Pheriannath'. I've slain trolls, faced down Uruk-Hai, come face to fa – well, eye, with Sauron himself, and lived. I've even cheeked the great uncheekable: Gandalf in a temper. So why won't my knees stop knocking?

Heir to Thain of the Shire, Peregrin Took. Heir to be Thain. You are brave, bold, courageous…you are not afraid of one little hobbit lass.

Definitely not.

Erm.

Probably not, at any rate.

It's slightly disconcerting, at any rate, to notice that what started off as a purposeful, strident pace down the smial has now dwindled into what can only be described as a shuffle. A creep, if one was being generous. And the fact that I'm now practically hugging the walls of the hall for comfort hasn't been lost on me either.

Pull yourself together, young hobbit. You slew a troll-chieftain once! What damage could a tweenage hobbit lass wreck on you that could possibly be worse?

The only problem is, I've seen the damage Diamond can wreck with a slingshot. And she has brothers. Seven of them. And I heard what she did to that ruffian that tried to make a grab for her, during the Troubles. They were finding teeth in the carpet for weeks after that. And she's a lovely lass, most of the time, only just a little bit mad. Mostly nice mad. Not scary mad. Scary mad would not be good. Oh sweet stars, she's going to go scary mad isn't she?

A slight – but strong. bold, even – whimper escapes from my lips as I reach for the doorknob…

thain, thain, thain, thain

..and then pull back, rapping my knuckles smartly against the study door.

No use being impolite, is there? Despite the fact that it is, technically, my study.

…The smart, jaunty knock somehow manages to transform itself into a soft, barely-there sound. If knocks could cringe, that would indeed be this knock.

thain, thain, thain, one of these days you're going to be thain…

"Hullo?"

"Di?" Managing to wrap a slightly sweaty palm – it's a hot day, Eru curse it! – around the doorknob, I manage to shuffle through the door, peeking in meekly. She's perched behind the desk, my desk – oh, alright, it's not as if I've ever used it – and, as usual, her head's in a book of some kind, a big, hefty looking one at that. There's a nervous grin as my eyes hastily search the room; thank the Valar I left my sword in here!

Erm.

It's not as if I'd use it on a defenceless lass. It's just…precautions are important to take. It's always wise to be prepared. Father's always saying it.

I'm quite sure he means when dealing with a new Rule, or even infringements on the Boundaries, not dealing with homicidal hobbit lasses, but hey ho.

"Is everything alright, Pip?" She smiles at me, all bright eyes and ringlets; and for a moment I'm completely unaware of what I'm supposed to be doing. Talking to Diamond – and telling her something? Something about – ah. That. Impending doom. My imminent destruction. All of that.

"Everything's f-fine," I mumble somewhere in the direction of my feet, feeling another stab of utter humiliation. I've seen Balrogs, Uruk-Hai, faced down a hungry Frodo Baggins; I should be able to do this. Talking to your best girl shouldn't render you catatonic, but there you are. "Is everything…f-fine with you?"

One eyebrow arches. She's a Took lass, no doubt about that – for a second I'm sure I can hear my Aunt Esme directing me to my bedroom for the rest of the day. With no meals.

I'm not afraid. I'm…manly. Yes, that's what I am. I'm a manly, manly hobbit.

A manly, manly hobbit who's slowly backing up towards the fire as if his life depended on it.

"Wonderful. Pearl's taking me over to see Pimmie's newest lad and – Pip, are you trying to hide behind the mantle piece?"

Yes.

"I'm…resting," I mumble. Yes. Resting my arm on the mantle piece, while the rest of me attempts to shuffle my body behind it. And my free arm gropes for Troll's Bane from where it rests by the fire.

It saved my life during the Battle of the Black Gate; I'm not taking any chances now.

"So – you're going over to see Pimmie," I blabber, inwardly thanking the stars for what has previously been a rather pesky older sister. "Any chance you'll be staying for – I don't know – the next six months?"

"I beg your pardon?"

See, this is the part where things get dangerous. And slightly scary, if I wasn't a bold, manly hobbit.

"Six months." By now I have a good, firm grip on Troll's Bane, and I angle it rather pathetically behind my back. "You see – Merry's got himself caught up in a…silly, silly notion…" She hasn't yet noticed, but my feet are shuffling backwards – just a few more feet and I can bolt out the door while she's still cursing. "to go out to Gondor…couple of months…and you know Merry…can't go out his own front door without getting lost…" just another foot more! "so I was thinking maybe I'd…go with him?"

There's a silence. A very obvious, very there silence. Which could be good. I'm hoping it's good, and not the type of silence where she's wondering just exactly to remove my head from my shoulders.

"And you can't come."

Still silence; but I swear I can hear the grind of perfect little white teeth.

"Please don't kill me?"

I risk a suspicious look upwards. Well, she's still quiet, which could be a good thing, and her mouth is opening, and then shutting rather dumbly, but also rather endearingly, if that makes any sense…But there a definite glint in her eye.

Alright. Time to go then.

"Well…so if I just…go then…Tell mum I'll be back in a while…" Ha. Found the doorknob. Definitely time to go. "Alrightloveyoubye!"

I just about manage to spin around, wrenching the door open and nearly braining myself in the process – why do the doors open inwards ? – but I'm out, I'm free! And if I sprint I can make a head start to the front door before she catches me…I've managed a good three, four paces maybe when..

"PEREGRIN TOOK!"

Oh damn and bl -

"ARGH!"

Something hits me directly from behind, tight pressure wrapping around my legs and jerking me off balance. The sword abruptly flies from my hand, catapulting into what looks like and what certainly sounds like a very old Took heirloom in the shape of an extremely ugly vase. So now I'll have two Took women after my blood. It would be more pressing if I wasn't flying through the air at a horrifying speed, towards a horrifyingly close carpet.

Oh my knees.

Where did she learn to tackle like that?

"Ow!" I roll over, only to be pinned down by a hobbit lass five years younger than me – please Eru, never, never let Merry hear about this. He'd only smirk anyway. And – did she just pinch me? "What was that for?"

Squeaking like a little lass at the hobbitess you're currently trying to court. I don't deserve to live.

"What was it for?" Diamond shrieks, her face flushing bright red. "What d'you mean, what was it for? You're flitting off another adventure and I can't come!"

There is that small measure, but I'm trying to overlook it.

"We-ell…yes, but…" I shift, rather uncomfortably. It's a bit difficult to ignore the fact that I'm being knelt upon by the prettiest lass in the entire Shire, her body pressing up against mine. Very difficult to ignore. "I'm sorry; should I be enjoying this?"

"Pippin!"

That's when the hefty book she'd been flipping through in my study clonks down straight on my head.

Sweet stars.

And I mean that literally. For a moment that's all I can see.

"Owwww…" I wail. I'm trying to be a manly hobbit, but dear Valar, I'm nearly in tears, and I can feel the bump swelling straight through my skull. The History of Tuckborough's Legal Progression Vol. II – who reads that? "That hurt Di!"

Another clonk, this time on the other side of my side. "You deserved it!" She snaps, fuming hotly – I can almost see the smoke coming from her ears. "After two years courting, you tell me you're running off into the great beyond with only that idiot cousin of yours, then tell me I can't come," she draws breath, and I take the opportunity to pull my arms defensively over my head, "and then you have the nerve to try and sweet talk me!"

I peek through my fingers and try The Smile. The sweet, charming, invented-at-the-age-of-four smile. "Tookish charm?"

This time the book slams directly into my – well, into my vulnerables, as dear old Sam would say.

"Di-i!"

Father did so want to me to have at least one son and heir to pass on the Thaneship to; I somehow recall as I buckle up in what only can be describe as untold agony. And mother wanted a grandchild from each of us children, little lads and lasses to dandle upon her knee in her old age. It will be a shame to disappoint them.

Diamond watches with, I have to say a rather rottenly impassive eye as I squirm on the floor. Then her eyes flash again. "Peregrin Took, are you swearing at me in elvish?"

"No."

It's dwarvish, actually. But we needn't mention that here.

"Look…Di…" I gabble, pushing the treacherous thought that maybe she'd be quite good protection on the Road out of my head. Nevertheless, I'd like to see the orc capable of taking my Di on. "It's just…you can't come! You're still a tweenager! A-And the road will be dangerous! And…and it's just not proper!"

Very true. Imagine going on a long, extended journey with a lass you're only courting, and a lass with seven well-built, hefty brothers at that. And a father with an uncommonly good aim even for a hobbit, and a large collection of sythes and bows. Old Ponto North-Took started getting shirty enough when we went on a picnic to Bywater Pool last week; I don't fancy inciting him into any further violence.

And there'll be no more talk of 'ending the line of the Thains', thankyou very much.

"Proper!" Diamond fairly screams, swinging the book wildly. "Hark at you talking about what's 'proper'! I never met such a groping lout!"

That's not fair. Merry can be far worse than me, from what I hear tell, even if he did teach me everything he knows. And they do say Bilbo could be a holy terror to the lasses when he had two or three of the Gaffer's best brew down him - but the mere idea of that just makes me feel ill.

"Merry's leaving Estella here!" I protest shrilly – erm, cry in a strong and resolute voice. "And she's his wife!"

Although from what I hear, Merry got away with burns in…unfortunate places after that little conversation.

"I don't care!" Diamond yells. "You're not my mother, you can't say what I may or may not do; if you're going I'm coming with you!"

"No you're not!" I blurt out loud. "It might be DANGEROUS, Di; you're staying here where it's safe! Besides, you coped well enough the last time." Thinking back to the reunion following that particular absence, I can't help but peer out through my fingers with a slightly resentful look. "Well, apart from when I came back."

"Ha."

"Mistook me for a ruffian?"

"That's my story, and I'm sticking to it."

"Alright." I reach back tentatively to rub my head, where the memory of an old battle scar, seven years old and one of the most painful ones I have, still lingers. And alright, there's more than a hint of distrust in my eyes. "The thing being, though, Diamond, when you saw it was me, I'd have thought you'd stop."

"Oh."

"Not hit me with the broom again."

"Oh really?"

"And scream something about 'you rotten, abandoning, groping, vulgar swine'."

"You must have been mistaken in your guess."

"And something about the size of my weaponry, but I got the feeling you weren't talking about my sword at that point."

"You heard correctly."

Alright, this has gone far enough. Apart from that unpleasant little rumour that was passed throughout the Great Smials for the next year and a half – one peek whilst I was dipping in Bywater Pool and the lass thinks she's seen it all – I don't much fancy being greeted in the same wise the next time I come home. I was limping for a week after that; and it wasn't much fun admitting my bruises had originated from Diamond of Long Cleeve. It's not happening a second time around. "I didn't abandon you then, and I'm not abandoning you now! We'd only just started courting – I was giving you a choice, letting you get on with your life, giving you up! I was being noble, Valar curse it! Lasses love that sort of thing!"

"Where did you get that from?" Diamond demands, reaching for the book again. "Merry Brandybuck?"

"No!"

Yes.

She's still ranting. Quite shrilly, actually. My ears hurt. "Sweet stars! My mother warned me to stay away from flighty Took brats like you!"

"Only time she was right and you didn't listen."

Another swat with the book, right to the nose. Oh Eru, but that lass can pack a strike! Aragorn should really have a couple of hobbit lasses in his bodyguard.

"Now you malign my mother?"

"No, I – Ow, my head! Di, that hurt! Come on, it's not as if your mother ever approved of me."

"Oh please; she describes you in terms which are positively glowing – which is exactly how I'd like to see you in hell!" Di growls, and folds her hands into fists. This, in turn, allows me to scrabble behind me, at least until I grab Troll's Bane in two determined – albeit shaking – hands.

Alright, so Ponto might have something to say about me running his only daughter through with my sword– truth be known I wouldn't be too happy about it – but desperate times, desperate measures. If needs must; and it would only be a little cut. I'd be sure to visit each and every day, and help the healers, although truth be known that might actually do more harm than good, and stay beside her bedside throughout the day, and if needs be all throughout the night…

Focus Peregrin!

"I can't believe I didn't allow my brothers to set the dogs on you the first time you asked me to dance."

"Your brothers?" I yelp. Alright, so teasing the half-crazed, furious hobbit lass directly above me is probably not the wisest move, but I'm a glutton for punishment. "It was their idea. They just want me to get you off their hands…OW!"

My upper chest this time. I'm going to be covered with bruises before we even set out from the stables.

"Pip? What's going on? Is everythi – oh." A door from somewhere above me swings open, and I glance up from beneath the dead weight of a furious Diamond to see Everard Took, the eternal bachelor, staring in abject fascination. I don't know what he's so gobsmacked about. Has he never seen a hobbit wielding a sword and being pinned to the ground by a lass five years younger than him and attempting to clobber every reachable body part of his with a book of legal history?

Clearly Ev's been away from the Smials for too long.

"Hullo Di."

Di?

Diamond shifts, a blush beginning to fill her cheeks. Good. "Good afternoon, Ev." Ev? Ev? "Sorry if we disturbed you ever so slightly."

"Oh, not at all." Everard leans back against the door, sly grin dancing across his lips. "And what about you? I hope I wasn't…disturbing anything?"

Just what is he implying? I mean, I know what he's implying, but…just what exactly does he mean by it?

"Certainly not! Me and Pippin," cue furious, soul-crushing, death-inducing glare, "were just having a little chat."

"Of course." He dips his head, raising an eyebrow slightly before making a polite bow to Diamond. "Well I shouldn't blame our little Pip if he was trying to…sneak past propriety. I've always said you're a lass worth any amount of scandal, Miss Took – not to mention actual bodily harm from your brothers."

I beg your very dear pardon?

"Oh, Ev, you've always been such a charmer." Diamond giggles – giggles? Diamond doesn't giggle. – before glancing coolly down to me for a split-second. "Unlike some."

Alright, so I know she's a little…miffed by my announcement, but this just isn't fair! It's…it's wrong is what it is! All those giggles, and using those enormous bright eyes, and even that blasted little half-smile. No one else has the right to see that smile.

If I leave the Shire, Everard Took had damned well better not start inviting that little smile. I'm sure Adelard wouldn't be nearly as upset at having his youngest son firmly skewered.

"Well, I had best be off."

Diamond giggles again. "It's been a joy, as always."

"Oh, the pleasure's all mine."

Decapitation. Firm decapitation, one clean slice. Adelard wouldn't mind that, surely? I know Reg would like it; he's always complaining about his brother being a plague and a nuisance. And it would be nice and quick, no blood on the upholstery. I could even borrow Sting...Oh, why didn't Gandalf leave his staff behind? Everard as a frog would be so much less hassle, and far less attractive to vulnerable, lonely, beautiful hobbit lasses with an eye for the charming lad…

He's gone. Cut off from my wistful daydreams (where Everard the frog can easily be dropped into a pot of boiling water at a moments notice), I glower upwards, to see Diamond smirking down at me. Oh, she's a sneaky one, that one, but she won't get a reaction from me!

"He's very courteous, Ev, isn't he?" She remarks slyly, her eyes sparkling. "Very much the gentlehobbit. He wouldn't abandon his best lass and go traipsing off into the Wild."

No reaction. No reaction.

"You know Pip, you go right ahead and have your little journey." Diamond smiles down at me, and I swear I can see the mischief in her eyes. "I'll just wait back here, all on my lonesome, and let your charming cousin Everard look after me…"

Blow it.

I raise one finger and wag it at her – a reasonable impression of Bilbo, I'm sure. "Now see here Diamond," I snap, actually daring to raise my voice in disapproval at her, "you're a Took, and therefore a very clever lass, but this has gone far enough! I see your little plan, and I'm wise to it!"

Her arms fold deceptively tightly; eyes narrowing similarly. Well, she's quiet; and that's a light at the end of the tunnel.

"You think you're going to get me to stay here with you just out of fear that Everard Took might supplant me, that's what you think. Well, let me tell you Diamond," my voice raises even further, seeing my doom and racing towards it. What was a light at the end of the tunnel has turned into a full-blown fire, "I'm my own hobbit, I'm of age, and I can look after myself! And more to that, I can say when I'm going somewhere, on my own, without you tagging after me! You're still a tween, and you need to stay in the Shire! Now I'm going, by myself, with Merry, without you; and there's nothing you can do to stop that! Am I understood?"

-

"How did it go?" Merry asks me, a good half an hour later, after I limp out of the Smials to be greeted with the sight of two ponies; saddled and ready for the journey ahead.

I gingerly reach down, prodding every available bruise and cringing as another jolt of pain spirals through me. As soon as I mount up and straddle the pony, another wave of throbbing washes over me. Oh, and I'm going to have to be riding…and me with my vulnerable still in agony… "A black eye, a split lip, two boxed ears, bruises all over me and a kicked-in kneecap." Wincing, I sheath Troll's Blade – fat lot of good that did me – and curl over my pony's neck with a whimper. "And the chances of me ever being able to have children are slim. Father's going to be so disappointed."

My cousin reaches over and ruffles my hair. It's enough to make me squeak with pain again. "Sorry Pip."

"She did seem to like it when I started being all strong and no-nonsense-y." I contemplate thoughtfully, reaching down to stroke my pony. The only sensation that's lingering longer than my bruises is the single kiss she gave me; delivered after my ritual beating and just as forceful. "Should bear that in mind when we get back."

Merry smirks. "See; told you there was a reason your Da had four children."

Oh no, please don't do this to me, oh damn and blast and…Images flooding through my mind leave me unable to say anything but - "Eurgh…"

"Grow up Pip."

I make a face, and nudge my heels into the pony's sides. We'd best be off; especially with the long journey ahead of us. "Di hates the idea of not going to Gondor."

"…Wait." Merry pauses, reins in the pony. "You told her we were going to Gondor?"

Ah. "Yes."

"Not to Annuminas? With the rebuilding? And Aragorn?"

"Yes."

"Principally to meet with Aragorn, but also to find a betrothal ring?"

See, I knew I'd forgotten something. A slow, sly grin spreads over my face.

"Put it this way," I suggest slowly, barely able to contain my excitement. "When I return, four months early and with a ring and a proposal, she'll never expect it."

Merry stares for a moment, and then begins to laugh, his entire body shaking with barely held chuckles. "She'll make you pay for it, Pip," he murmurs, "she'll make you pay."