Diamond Took. It sounds such an important name, and she supposes that it's an important life in many respects. After all, she's wife to the Thain, and mother to his children. That's Peregrin Took, and that's a very important name indeed. People a thousand worlds away, who have never heard of hobbits, know that name. Diamond and Peregrin.

Or, of course, Dinny and Pippin. He's made her laugh more times than anyone could count, and made her cry, too, but never from cruelty or harshness. Little hobbits don't fit big names, though sometimes they have to wear them for the sake of presentation. Estella fared best, and worst, out of the business of naming; in full she is Estella Melilot Poppy Ralinna Heather Brandybuck, nee Bolger. 'Estella' hardly needs to be cut short at all, but it's only the top of a precarious pile of labels.

Diamond can't remember who first called her Dinny, but everyone has ever since, so it hardly matters anymore. She's a terrible cook, her father used to joke that her only option was to marry above her and rely on others to lay the table, but deft with a needle or quill. She's been told she's too soft-hearted, sometimes she finds Estella's jokes too hurtful to be funny when they're really not anything more than teasing.

Estella's like that, though. She's got a forked tongue in her head, as Merry puts it: one side to soothe you and the other to sting. It's not nastiness, really, for Estella's got as sweet a temper as any hobbit, more a sly wit without restraint. If anyone is ever hurt by her remarks, though, Estella will crawl backwards over thorns to make amends, and her 'sorry jam' is considered quite the treat to eat with fresh bread.

Dinny has loved Estella for as long as there has been an Estella to love, which is always. Dinny was eight and Estella eighteen when they met, and from the first moment they were firm friends. Dinny was thoughtful and wise for her years, and Estella terribly immature, so they met in the middle of their age difference quite comfortably. They were both the odd one out in their families - Estella used to complain loudly and constantly that looks had not been portioned out fairly between the children of her parents, with Fredegar more than living up to his nickname of Fatty and her own arms and legs tending towards knobby. Diamond was taller than everyone save her grandfather, who called her Little Big Lass and joked that she'd have to marry a Man to be fully content in life.

But, as it was, little big Dinny didn't want a man or boy at all. She wanted Stel, who could make her laugh and squirm with playful tickling fingers, who stopped looking at her like just a friend as the years went on. Dinny was barely twenty when the pair of them were out on an expedition for blackberries and Estella muttered 'oh, frog it, nothing ventured nothing gained' and kissed her firmly on the mouth.

And that, as her grandfather had always been fond of saying, was that.

Dinny still feels like the odd one out, even now that all the odd ones are collected together. There are dark shadows lurking behind Pippin's eyes when he watches the fire burn down in the grate, and a shake in Merry's hands as he strikes a match to light his pipe. And Stel never talks about the dark days when Sharkey was in charge, when her beloved brother was whipped and starved, and their pretty things smashed on the ground, but there are places on her body that even Dinny isn't to touch, and old songs that are never sung anymore.

But Dinny's just plain Dinny, playing cubby games with her lovely little Meli girl (named for one of Estella's sundry labels) and Stel's sweet sturdy little Molly. Farry and Borry are growing up fast as magic beanstalks, in Merry's words, and look as if they'll be fair and tall as their fathers.

Dinny never expected to fall in love with Pippin, though she finds it less difficult to believe that Diamond and Peregrin are matched. On the surface they make a handsome couple, and Dinny finally feels properly small when she stands next to him. It was supposed to be a joke, after all, an excuse to put on big parties (as if they needed an excuse to begin with). Estella would wed Merry, and Dinny would take Pippin's name.

As time went on, though, it became clearer and clearer that there was something in each of them that the others needed. Stel and Merry spar with words, back and forth and bawdy and clever. Pippin and Dinny dig pearly shells out of the silty dirt of the riverbank and display them on the shelves at home. It isn't Merry and Estella's way to think about things like that, or, if they do think it, they don't say so. Pippin seems to understand, though.

"It's new things and old things, isn't it? You love the old things but sometimes you need new things too, or you'll just remember all the sad parts that go with the old things," is about as good as she can manage as an explanation.

A lot of people were very relieved when Merry and Estella announced they were going to marry, and even more when Dinny and Pippin made a similar declaration a few days later. It seemed to the world as if silly youthful love affairs were being put aside in favour of something more sensible. Of course, it wasn't really like that at all. Dinny lies with Stel as often as she lies with Pippin, and on one memorable occasion she and Merry tried to make a go of it. It was a terrible mess of bumped noses and fumbling hands, because they're both the type to prefer to do the leading. In the end they gave up and read to each other from the swashbuckling tales favoured by Merry's mother, putting on voices and flourishes where the text demanded them.

For the most part, their lives are good and light. The children are bonny and happy, the wives are sensible and kind, and the husbands proud and noble. And all of them are strange as tomatoes hiding in with apples, though this is not a bad thing in any way.

~

Pretty Good Year | email Mary