By: Dana
Summary: Three sisters and three reactions.
Characters: Pimpernel, Pervinca, Pearl (Pippin, others)
Pairings: None
Rating: G
Warnings: Nothing really, some angst
Author's Notes: Another post in response to my minor character meme – this time for slightlytookish, who wanted Pearl, Pimpernel and Pervinca reacting to Pippin coming home.
Series Index: In a Sunless Year.
Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with J.R.R. Tolkien or New Line Cinema. Any and all characters and situations that have been borrowed are for the author's personal use only, and for the entertainment of others.

Out on watch as she was, Pimpernel was first to see Pippin when he came riding home. She knew it was him, even from a distance, somehow felt it in her heart even before she had clear sight of his face. She sat balanced on the branch of the tree, and nodded at Allard who whistled sharp like bird-song and signaled the fellows. Pimpernel dropped down as gracious as she could, stood with one hand on her left hip and the other clutching at her bow, her heart beating, but her eyes all but disbelieving.

'Well, it took you long enough,' she said sharply, him coming up at the head with a half dozen or so other lads at his back. Pippin dropped down from his pony and caught her up in his arms, swung her about and then set her back down on her feet. She stumbled back a step, dazed and then smiled, and him looking at her like his face was set to glow. 'You've come back a giant, lad. Oh, Pip,' and she hugged him once again. 'You really are a sight for these eyes.'

She might have questioned him there, standing there on the road, but she felt he was in a rush and she told him that he should hurry on. With his promise that she'd see him again, she let him go on – still standing on the road, with Allard at her side, and watching as her brother rode off to Great Smials.

She hadn't meant to argue with her Da, or make her Mam look at her like that, but Pervinca came running out the Great Door and continued down the stairs. She felt too confined, like there couldn't be enough air. Given that she had run out like she had, and passed through the garden, she was the second to see Pippin as he came riding home. She shouted for the doorhobbit, went running through the courtyard. It was Pippin, and she burned up and shouted at him, even as he caught her up in his arms.

'I never could stay very cross at you,' she said, held him tight and decided somehow that she'd not weep. 'Not even when you deserved it, or most especially then.'

He said it was good to see her too, but he was in a hurry now and the Shire would be raised, but he needed to see their Da – Pervinca's alert had spread and Paladin came out the Great Door, looked at Pippin like he'd seen a ghost.

'I can't stay long,' Pippin said, before anything else could be said. He explained, and Paladin nodded, having understood. And it was taken well enough, him being back, when so many had thought him dead. Still, what Pippin needed was an army of Tooks, and Pippin would have it.

What mattered was him being home but, still, Pervinca would have words with him, and the fright he'd caused, and being gone as long as he had.

Pearl cracked her eyes opened, smiled at him, felt Pippin take hold of her hand. 'You really did take your time coming back,' she said, felt as if she was the last hobbit in the Shire to see him now that he'd come home. But she smiled at him, and he smiled back at her, rubbed her hand and then kissed her knuckles.

He sat by her bedside for what felt like hours, talking to her about nothing in particular and that was her Pippin, and she was glad at last that someone had come who'd not tell her not to cry. Mum could not bear it, nor could Aunt Persicaria, not when she had wept. Pippin held her hand at first, and then he gathered her up in tight, and then whispered soothing nonsense against her ear.

It was appreciated, though she never told.

He didn't ask after Talbard, and she knew he didn't have to. It had been a very bad day, that one, news of Talbard and then the fall, and the day ended and she hadn't just lost her husband, she'd lost her unborn child, too. She was glad of that, and she thanked him for not asking, though she told him that she'd not mind telling, some other day, but it was still soon and he was hardly home and she'd rather hear about him, and what had kept him so very long.

More than she could say, it was good to have him home.

End Notes: Pimpernel here is greatly inspired by rubynye's Nell here, I'll have you all know. *much love*