Chapter 3 - 

The Easy Pupil

She stilled like a hare being stalked.  Her frown deepened slightly and she drew herself in, running her hands up her arms as if finally sensing how vulnerable she was.  "They are my friends," she said guardedly.  "You should not speak ill of them."

Frodo felt his face grow hot.  "I did not mean…"  He paused and shook his head.  "Forgive me.  I spoke unwisely.  It is not meet of me to speak so of lads I do not know.  But…"

She drew the cloak up to cover her exposed flesh.  Now that she was aware of his gaze, she seemed quite ill at ease in it.  Whether due to a sudden realization of how foolishly she had endangered herself or some belated modesty, her easy comfort with him, a precious moment in the sun, seemed over.  Frodo felt keen regret prick his heart, but realized it was probably for the best.  She was developing into a stunningly beautiful lass.  A less scrupulous fellow might have taken advantage of her innocence.

“I am sorry, Pearl.  I spoke without thinking.  Forgive me.”  He reached down to help her straighten the cloak over her shoulder, but when he touched her, she flinched as if struck and a shiver ran through her frame. 

“Pearl?” he asked, bending over her in alarm and putting his hand more firmly on her back. 

She looked up at him again, but this time with shock.  Her mouth opened wordlessly and she searched his features as if she had never seen him before.  Frodo felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck.  There was something in her expression; surprise or perhaps fear that seemed directed at him.

“Pearl?” 

She stumbled to her feet and backed quickly away from him.  The swift water and slime-covered rocks gave her no purchase and before she could take more than a couple of steps, she slipped and fell backward into the water. 

“Pearl!”

It was only a little brook, hardly deep enough to wet one’s toes in, but it was icy cold.  Pearl squealed and scrambled up in a flash, but the damage was done; she and her heavy cloak were soaked.

“Are you all right?”

“No!” she sobbed, her lip already trembling. 

“Silly thing, come out of that water before you catch your death!”  Frodo grabbed for the only piece of dry clothing she had left; her dress. 

Though the dip seemed to have momentarily startled Pearl out of her alarm, she still hesitated to come to him. 

“I won’t eat you, girl, now come out of that water straight away.”  Frodo averted his eyes as he held forth the garment.  Her shift was positively transparent when wet but he was more concerned with her health at the moment than her suddenly revealed body.  Pearl folded her arms over her chest and trembled before darting back onto the bank.  The gentle breeze had picked up.  It felt pleasant to him but she shivered uncontrollably.

“Change and do it quickly or you’ll be shaking too much to be able to.”  He thrust the dry dress at her and turned his back.  A gasp followed the sound of the cloak dropping and then came the wet slap of sodden fabric against skin.  A muttered curse followed a different rustle, that of dry clothing and Frodo imagined her struggling her wet body into the cumbersome dress, but he did not turn to investigate until she spoke.

“This won’t be enough,” she muttered, her voice still shaking with cold.  “With the cloak, I was all right, but I’m freezing in this.”

Frodo turned back.  She no longer looked tempting; she looked more like a drowned rat in ruffles.  He suppressed a smile.  

“We’ll hang the cloak and the shift in the sun.  They should dry soon enough.”

Pearl nodded and attempted to attend to the dress’ lacings, but after a few moments, she gave up and sighed, exasperated. 

“I can’t… can’t make my fingers…”

Frodo had laid her shift on the grass and draped the cloak over a low hanging apple branch.  “They’re stiff,” he nodded.  “Not surprising after the plunge you took.  Come here and I’ll help warm you.”  He gestured towards the lee of the cloak.  “It'll keep the wind at bay,” he explained.

Though she still trembled, the wariness returned to her eye. 

“Please,” Frodo sighed, “I am sorry for frightening you, but I am no cad who would press an advantage.  You are safe with me.”

The frown twitched the corner of her mouth again.  She started to speak, but then seemed to think better of it.  She came towards him hesitantly and then fairly leapt into the little shelter when the breeze gusted again. 

Frodo chuckled as he rubbed her arms.  She was quite chilled, even in dry clothes, and he tucked her as far into his coat as he could manage before settling them both onto the ground.  She still seemed extremely uneasy in his embrace and it took many softly spoken assurances before she relaxed enough to lay her damp head upon his breast.

“I can’t believe I did that,” she whispered, the shivers at last beginning to subside.  “I must have looked a fool.”

Frodo smiled and rubbed her back comfortingly.  “It was my fault for frightening you.  But I did have a purpose in it.  Though I would never have compromised you, you must realize others may not be so noble.  I have been to Great Smials; it is no worse a place than Brandy Hall, I suppose, but I would not send you to either without alerting you to the danger.”  He chuckled ruefully.  “You are not a child anymore, Pearl.”

She stiffened against his chest again and drew back till she could look him in the eye.  For many long moments she searched his face and Frodo kept perfectly still so that she could see and feel the truth of his words.  Though he had certainly been charmed by her youthful candour, he had mastered himself again.  Innocence was a weapon none had ever used to snare him, and it was a formidable one.  She’d simply caught him unprepared. 

The lines of worry on her face deepened and she shivered again, though it did not seem to be from cold.

“I knew what you were trying to warn me of, Frodo.  Mother has tried as well, but I’d only listened with half an ear.  She said it would be different when…, that I would know, but it’s so much more than I realized…”  She swallowed with difficulty, but her eyes never left his.  “I’ve never felt anything like this before, not for anyone.”  She bit her lip and Frodo wondered if it was indeed worry written on her face or shame.  “It wasn’t you I was frightened of, Frodo,” she whispered, her face colouring a disarming pink.  “It was me.”

And then, to Frodo’s utter surprise, she brushed a kiss across his lips.  Delicate fire seemed to erupt from the touch and the control he had so recently regained evaporated before it.  This was not a move that he had expected from so innocent a lass!  She made a little, pleased sound in her throat; so soft Frodo could more feel than hear it, and the desire that cold water and reason had quelled surged in him again.

She pulled back and gazed at him.  Rather than a self-satisfied smirk like that he had seen on the few other lasses who had managed to kiss him, her face bore an expression of unabashed awe.  He had no doubt this had been her first real one;  she licked her lips with shameless delight such as only one who had no idea what dangerous waters could lie beyond a kiss could enjoy.  Her next venture was deeper, hungrier, bolder, and with an enthusiasm that was so contagious Frodo could not resist engaging in a measure of it.  It was only a kiss after all.  He certainly would not let it go farther.  Better that he, who had the self-control maturity afforded, should give her a taste of what she had so off-handedly dismissed than to send her unknowing into the reach of some slicker talking denizen of Great Smials who would gladly mistake naivety for assent.  

And what easy prey she would be, too!  Frodo stroked her back and marvelled at the captivating way she arched into him.  The hesitance she had shown earlier seemed forgotten.  She had given in completely to experiencing this strange new delight.  A flicker of warning crossed the back of his mind.  She was so willing, so ready to follow where he could lead her.  He thought of the dark halls and sophisticated realms of his youth.  Pearl would be a tragically easy mark for the jaded palates of such society.  He pushed into her open mouth and she offered no resistance.  No.  She would not last a week in Great Smials.

Her tongue wonderingly stroked his as it delved deep into her mouth and she began to whimper as if hungry for him to go further.  It was a tantalizing sound that Frodo could not help but respond to.  Pearl took his increasing boldness without protest but the warning in his mind grew more insistent.  He should stop, before things went too far, but all was happening so very quickly.  His feeling of alarm grew stronger.  Where was her sense of propriety?  Such innocence was all very charming, but she was nearly a tween.  She must guard herself more dearly than this or risk ruining any prospect she might have!  He hesitated a moment, but her sweet mouth and lush, willing body were impossible to resist.  Perhaps, if he dared a little further than was proper, she would see how easily such play could be come serious.  Surely then she would rise to her own defence.  He rolled her beneath him. 

The call of warning rang shrilly in his mind.  Even through trousers and dress, he could feel her warmth and she, with a gasp, opened her legs so that he dropped heavily upon her.  For the first time, Frodo wondered if perhaps he was the one being played for a fool.  Her exclamation had not been one of fear, as he had expected, but of keen desire.  Before he could resist, she pulled him in even tighter, stroked mercilessly against him and moaned, her eyes glassy with passion. 

Control of the situation was a rapidly vanishing option.  His body was responding to her eagerly, whether he wanted it to or not.  He broke off the kiss and fought to regain his mastery, but Pearl still moved hungrily against him.  It was far more than any poor hobbit lad should have been expected to take.  Perhaps, as long as he kept his trousers on and she remained in her unlaced but cumbersome dress, no harm could come of their play?  To his lust fogged brain, the assurance sounded as logical as anything else and he answered her teasing strokes with a hard, dry thrust. 

He felt her shudder beneath him, but the subsequent moments blurred into frenzy.  Convulsions began rippling through her body and set off an answering firestorm in his.  Frodo was dimly grateful that a shield of fabric kept their virtue intact, but he was at the mercy of an unquenchable fire, overcome by primal need, newly discovered and gleefully engaged.  She was as fervent as the spring itself, lush, fresh and pure… and young!

“Aaaai!” 

Frodo reeled and pushed away, collapsing into the cloak and tearing it from the branch.  Wet fabric entangled his limbs and brought his addled brain swiftly back to cognizance.  Nerves still on fire, he struggled to stand and stared down at his dazed cousin.

And I feared for her among Great Smials’ lads? he berated himself, shaking with unspent desire.  What was I thinking?

Pearl looked confused.  She stared up at the sky, blinking at the bright blue and then she saw him.  The raw need and hurt in her eyes hit him like a fist.

“What did I do wrong?” she gasped.

“Excuse me,” he cried and dashed off to the stream.  Cold water, he needed cold water, or at least privacy to finish what she had started. 

When he had himself under control again, he returned to find his cousin huddled miserably under her cloak.  She said nothing, but watched his every movement with haunted anguish.  The defiant and strong willed teen of the morning had vanished and the girl who was left was uncertain, bereft and very young indeed.  He knelt before her, feeling almost as wretched as she looked.

“Pearl, I am sorry.  That was my fault, I…”

“Mother said… Mother said it would different when I found the right...” she gulped, trying not to sob.  “And when you looked at me that way, suddenly I knew what she meant.  It tingled inside and was… warm.  So warm….  Was that not what I was supposed to feel?  You said I should not fear it, didn’t you?”  The words stumbled out as if they could not longer be held inside her but her voice was pitiful and full of tears.  “But you pushed me away.  What’s the matter?  Am I so objectionable that you can’t love me either?” 

“No!  Yes, I…  Not as such.  Oh, dear…”  He laid the hood back from her mussed curls.  “You are passionate, beautiful, sensual and desirable…”  She looked up at him, her cheeks glistening in the sun.  “But you are too young for such sport, and far too precious.  I… It’s my fault, I should not have been so ham-handed.  I had thought to teach you caution, but it seems I had something to learn about myself as well.”  He cupped her chin in his hand.  “Never, ever again be so willing, cousin.  You can trust none of us!”

She blinked back her tears.  “I trusted you.”

He ran a hand through his hair.  “And you nearly paid dear for it!  Pearl, you are nineteen!  You have a lifetime ahead of you.  What you are feeling is not ‘love’ – it is only desire.  Love is so much, much more.”

“I don’t care what it is called,” she whispered, pitifully, “It felt right and all I know is I want to feel it again.  Please…”

“Pearl!”  He backed up a little nervously, not wanting things to get out of hand again.  “You’re nineteen!  Who even knows what you will want in a year, let alone who you will love once you are truly ready to!”

“I will love you,” she pleaded.  “Always.  You are the only one I have ever felt this way for.  I’m certain you are the one my mother spoke of and I will keep myself for you always, no matter how long you make me wait.  You have my promise.”

Frodo opened his mouth to assure her that such a vow was wholly unnecessary, but stopped.  He thought of Paladin and Eglantine.  Surely they could not have known how guileless and forward Pearl could be.  Cousin Paladin would not have let her out of the smial if he had!  Yet, they had trusted him to take her for a simple walk and he had very nearly betrayed them.  And Bilbo as well, he thought.  He looked at the girl who, though she was still wretched and ashamed, gazed up at him as if afraid to hope. 

“I don’t want to bind you, Pearl,” he said slowly and deliberately.  “You will, I warrant, have your fill of vows very soon.  Much can happen between now and your coming of age.  You should be free to follow where your heart leads.”  She nodded, solemnly agreeing.  “Yet I can’t help but think that you, in particular, would be well served keeping yourself for… someone… That is, considering your, ah… proclivities?”  He coloured a bright red; the demonstration of her enthusiasm still fresh in his mind.  “Innocence may be a virtue, Pearl, but naivety will serve you very poorly where you are headed.” 

“I make no claim,” he continued sternly, “and no promises, but if a vow keeps you from even considering taking such a foolish risk as this again, then make it.”  He wagged his finger at her.  “And I will hold you to it!” 

Her expression slowly brightened.  “I do so promise,” she sighed in a grateful whisper.  “I will keep myself for you forever if need be.”  She positively glowed with devotion and with the light of it in her young face, Frodo easily understood how she had overcome his defences. 

He blew out a deep breath.  “Very well.  I will release you when you come of age, and may your vow keep you until then.”

Her smile wilted.  “But that’s ages away…” 

“Pearl!  You’re NINETEEN!  Be reasonable, girl.”

“But I will be twenty six when you come of age,” she pressed.  “You could come for me then.  That’s not unheard of, you know.”

Frodo shook his head.  “Pearl…”  He was rapidly finding the end of his patience.  “All right.  We will discuss this when I come of age, but please remember that I make no claim on you and you have none on me.  I do not hold you with a promise of marriage.  That must be clear.  You but keep yourself in trust to discuss the subject when you’ve reached a more fitting age.  Do you understand, my girl?”  

The light returned to her face and Frodo wondered if she had even heard his words.  He felt exasperated, but also guilty.  He had been a fool for underestimating her, and for overestimating himself!  He deeply regretted trying to teach her a ‘lesson’ and wondered if he would one day live to regret accepting her vow as well.  At least if she kept it, it would provide some check on her behaviour since she remained determined to apprentice herself to Lalia and place herself in harm’s way.  She would have some defense against the kinds of predators that thrived in houses such as Great Smials. 

“I will do as you say, Frodo.”  She lowered her eyes and smiled, and Frodo again saw the hints of the stunning beauty she would one day become.  “When you come of age, we will speak of this again.  Thank you for everything.”  She rose from the grass and gathered up her still damp small clothes.  She looked happy, hopeful, but still artless and innocent.  She would do as she had sworn. 

Seven years.  Frodo gave a sigh, feeling reprieved, but also strangely wary.  Even as lovely and innocent as she was, he was far from ready for marriage.  She had slipped under his guard as no other lass had, but her raising of the subject had steeled his humbled defences.  Was she not in the end just as fixed on it as all the others had been?  He watched as she dusted herself off in the spring sunshine, her movements still marked with her native and unconscious grace. 

Even so, a lot could happen in seven years.  In that length of time, he had gone from being a poor relation at Brandy Hall to the coveted heir of Bag End.  What could befall him in the next seven was beyond his power to guess.  She looked up and met his eyes.  There were indeed far worse fates that could befall him than to be someday wed to the compelling Pearl Took.  Yet even as he smiled back at her, he felt the spring wind blowing strangely cold and felt fingers of omen combing uneasily through his hair.

 TBC