Pervinca Took paddled her feet in the clear waters of Bywater Pool and blessed Frodo Baggins with all her heart. To get her away from Tansy and Bungo, her parents had made her accompany Pippin to Hobbiton, but Frodo had brought them to Bywater for the day and quite kindly taken Pippin off her hands to the local inns, leaving Vinca to her own devices. Those devices currently included feeling the sunshine prickling warmly on her skin as she sat half-hidden among reeds, watching some of the local lasses doing their wash; they laughed and teased and splashed each other, dressed in wonderfully wet and clinging dresses, their bodices laid aside to stay dry. Instead of being pale like Pervinca, they were various shades of golden pink or golden-brown, and most were dusted with freckles like sprinkles of spices. Pervinca sat, feet in cool water and sunshine warm on her skin, and filled her eyes with the Bywater lasses.

One particular miss, not too tall and nicely rounded, with clear pink skin and warm brown hair that glowed in the sunlight, stood slightly apart from the others, scrubbing clothes and thinking quietly. When the girls laid their wash out on the grass and the others started romping with a blown up bladder, she waded away, closer to where Pervinca sat, as if she wanted to sit and think; as much fun as it was to watch the bouncing lasses at play, Pervinca tore her gaze away and watched this girl with her wide, thoughtful grey eyes and her full pink breasts, and hoped, very hard, that she'd wander right over to her. Distracted by her thoughts, the lass did just that, not noticing Pervinca till she literally stumbled over her. "Oh! Miss, I'm sorry!"

"It's all right, my dear." Pervinca steadied her with hands on her warm wet shoulders, feeling the strength under the softness. "I was just sitting with my feet in the water."

"You ain't from here," said the girl, wide-eyed. "Are you visiting kin?" Pervinca nodded, not entirely sure she should say which kin; many hobbits considered Frodo a fit heir to Bilbo in madness, if nothing else. The girl tilted her head curiously, rich brown curls tumbling around her heart-shaped face, and Pervinca couldn't deny those wide grey eyes. "I'm visiting Frodo Baggins," Pervinca said, and was relieved when the girl's face lit up. "Mr. Frodo? Oh! I've known him since I was small. He's a grand gentlehobbit." Pervinca smiled, and wondered what that full rosy bottom lip tasted like. "I'm Vinca," she said, and the lass smiled more brightly yet. "I'm Rosie," she said, "Rosie Cotton."

"Good to meet you, Rosie," Pervinca replied, wondering if Rosie liked lasses. She patted the bank beside her, and Rosie sat down, full hips nestled against Pervinca's, and peered at her curiously. "You look familiar," she said. "Tookish?"

"Well, I am a Took," Pervinca replied, and when Rosie made to get up and curtsey, waved her hand. "Oh, never mind that, there are how many Tooks? I'm just a lass like you."

Rosie shook her head, but smiled and settled. Pervinca wondered if she could wrap an arm round her, press her hand into the softness of that narrow, curved waist. "Do you know the Took?" Rosie asked curiously. "The Thain? I've heard he's great and tall and lordly." Pervinca struggled to keep her eyes from rolling. "His son Mr. Pippin is a great friend of Mr. Frodo's, but he seems such a, well, scatterbrained sweet lad, it's hard to think on him as the son and heir of a great warrior."

Rosie looked as if she might have said more, if Pervinca hadn't burst out laughing so that she nearly fell into the pond. "Oh, oh, yes, um, my, ahem, I know the Thain, he's a distant relation," ---Da, forgive me--- "he's a good leader and all, he runs Great Smials well, but he's hardly some great warrior out of legend."

Rosie nodded. "I'd like to see Great Smials," she said dreamily, as if it lay on the far side of the moon. "It must be nice to be able to travel about the Shire. Even if my family could spare me---but what am I saying, going on with nonsense."

"It's not nonsense. I like talking to you," Pervinca said, meaning it, and Rosie smiled.

They sat in the sunshine for some time, just talking, though Pervinca did manage to tuck her arm round Rosie's soft little waist. Pervinca talked about her older sisters and her silly little brother, without letting on who he was, of course, and about the lads her parents wanted her to pick a husband from, while Rosie talked about her brothers, older and younger, and about her family's best friends, the Gamgee family, including her lad Samwise. Although of course she didn't say so, Pervinca had seen and noticed Sam Gamgee when Frodo had brought him to Brandy Hall a couple of Yules past, and had caught him in a corner for a bit of Yule warmth before he'd found out who her father was and wouldn't come near her again; now, Pervinca idly wondered if he had told Rosie of that escapade, and less idly, if Rosie knew that Frodo was tumbling him. Sam didn't seem the deceptive type, but then Pervinca herself worked quite hard at not seeming it either.

Apparently, Rosie did know, and had a remarkable take on it. "I don't know as that I should tell you this," Rosie said in the soft half-guilty tones of a hobbit who needed to tell someone, "but I'm not Sam's only kissing-friend; he and Mr. Frodo are splendidly fond of each other, have been for years. That ain't wrong, do you think? I mean, Mr. Frodo's not made a warming-pan of Sam, he really cares for him. He may be Master of Bag End and I may be just a plain hobbit lass, but I'd not stand for it were it otherwise."

Somehow, looking at the firm set of those full lips, Pervinca had no doubt of that. "I think we're all hobbits together, really. If Frodo has found such a good friend, I'd hope he'd have the sense to hold fast to him, no matter his longfather tree. I certainly try to hold onto my friends wherever I might find them." Pervinca punctuated her words with a little squeeze, and Rosie giggled and snuggled closer, and the sunshine was all the warmer. "Actually, I knew Frodo had such a friend here. I'm glad to see him happy."

Rosie smiled. "And I am to see Sam happy. I just wonder, sometimes...." She trailed off, shaking her head; Pervinca lifted a hand to Rosie's soft cheek, turned her face back up. "Rosie, what do you wonder?"

The grey eyes searched Pervinca's face for a long moment; then Rosie let a sigh and the words emerged, slowly but steadily. "Many a tween has lads or lasses or both as kissing friends, but a grown hobbit can only settle with one. Sam is of age and I will be soon enough, and I wonder."

"Which of you he will choose?" Pervinca thought Sam awfully lucky to be faced with such a choice; she herself didn't care for a one of the husband-hopefuls her parents expected her to choose between. Surprisingly, Rosie shook her head. "I wonder if he could not have to choose. I can't see the choosing as doing aught but hurting him either way."

Pervinca blinked, so completely surprised by Rosie, unselfish in the sunshine, that she did the first thing that came into her head, which was to kiss Rosie full on the mouth. Rosie jumped a bit, then pressed forward into the kiss, those full soft lips caressing over Pervinca's for a long moment before she gasped and caught herself and sat back. "Miss---Vinca, oh, I beg----"

Pervinca struggled with herself to keep from sinking her hands in Rosie's hair and pulling her back in; working-hobbits could be skittish, it was part of their charm. "Rosie, I kissed you, don't you dare beg my pardon."she said with a smile, leaning forward just a bit. "and I'd like to kiss you again if you'll have me." Rosie smiled, closing her eyes, blushing, but didn't move away. "You're a fair lass with a generous heart and you're so very pretty, and I think you should have something of your own."

"You want to, want me to..."Rosie looked up again, from beneath her lashes; Pervinca felt her skirt growing damp beneath her at the warmth in those grey eyes, despite Rosie's hesitant words. "I've never had a kissing friend who was, well, someone I didn't know."

"Oh, you know me, Rosie. I'm just an old friend you didn't meet till today, is all." That decided Rosie, who smiled and leaned forward to kiss Pervinca again, then got to her feet and, with an inviting glance over her shoulder, held out her hand. So pleased she could have done a jig and so roused her legs trembled beneath her, Pervinca took that rough little hand in her own and followed Rosie into the reeds.

A little way down there was a great willow whose branches hung like silver-green rain, trailing on the ground and into the water; between the trunk and the bank, where it was too dim and damp for grass, was a patch of thick, green moss. When they emerged from the reeds Rosie let go of Pervinca to matter-of-factly strip her dress off and hang it on a low branch. "It could use to dry," she said in practical tones, even though she was blushing near down to her nipples, and Pervinca smiled and started unlacing herself. "So could mine."

Rosie smiled, and, dressed only in her petticoat and drawers, stepped up to Pervinca and began helping her with the unlacing. Pervinca filled her hands with Rosie's curls, drawing her up for another kiss; Rosie was shorter than she was, and rounder, and just delightful, her mouth soft and warm on Pervinca's mouth, her skin soft and warm under Pervinca's hands. Pervinca tucked her hands into the waistband of Rosie's petticoat, found its lacings, undid it and pushed it down and curved her hands over Rosie's full behind, and Rosie answered with something between a giggle and a gasp. "Vinca," Rosie whispered, her breath warm-cool over damp lips; shrugging out of her bodice, Pervinca pulled her closer, kissed her again.

Rosie giggled and stepped back. "Your bodice, Vinca!"

"Oh, leave it," Pervinca replied, reaching for her; Rosie giggled, dodged, scooped it up and her own petticoat as well. "You are a gentlehobbit," she teased as she draped the garments over another branch. "The likes of me can't go leaving her clothes about." Pervinca laughed at that, and suffered Rosie to remove her dress with much stroking of the skin beneath, and to hang it up for her while she wriggled out of her underthings.

Finally, they were both naked, and Pervinca sat down on the soft moss, watching Rosie hanging up the clothes, pink and full and rounded, the light through the willow-leaves dappling her with finger-length splashes. "You are so pretty," Pervinca said, meaning it; Rosie blushed all the way down to dark-pink nipples, as pretty as her namesake flower, and Pervinca reached up to draw her down, to taste that blush.

"Mmm, Vinca." Rosie sank into Pervinca's arms, giggled as Pervinca licked her throat, collarbones, the top of one full breast. "Is this real? Am I dreaming in the sunshine?"

"Does this feel real?" Pervinca murmured and licked the dark pink ring around Rosie's nipple, feeling the sweet little bumps rise beneath her tongue, and Rosie wound her hands in Vinca's hair and moaned. Pervinca decided she liked that moan, wanted to hear it again; as she sucked on that nipple, flicking it with her tongue, she pressed one hand into the warmth of Rosie's back, trailing the other down and across Rosie's warm rounded belly. Gently poking Rosie's navel to make her giggle, Pervinca let her hand roam onwards, over the top of her curls, and Rosie gasped and tensed. And stayed tensed.

"Rosie?" Pervinca tilted her face up; Rosie was looking at her with round eyes. "Vinca, I---"

"I want you," Pervinca said simply. "All of you." Rosie briefly fought a giggle, lost to it, relaxed again. "You're awful forward," she said, her smile clearing the words of all reproof.

Pervinca grinned at that, with just a little triumph. "I am," she agreed, and laid kisses to the soft flesh draping Rosie's ribs while she giggled, to her soft rounded belly and her curls, till she was on her knees over Rosie, drawing one of Rosie's knees up with her hand. "All right?"

"Oh, Vinca." Rosie sighed, giggled breathlessly as Pervinca ran her fingertips down along the impossibly soft skin of her inner thigh. "You're like ale, you've got me tipsy. I ain't usually like this."

"Neither am I," Pervinca breathed over Rosie's navel, pleasantly surprised that it was the first lie she'd told all day, and licked a salt-sweet line along the top of her curls. Rosie slid her delightfully rough hands up Pervinca's thighs, pressing them in to hold on, trembling as Pervinca gently parted her petals with fingers, then tongue. Rosie was well-named, Pervinca thought; she smelled like a musky flower, and was pink dappled with blood-flushed rose. Pervinca licked along one inner petal, feeling Rosie jump, then relax with a murmur too soft to be understood; she licked again, musky sweetness on her tongue, feeling Rosie's hands tense on her thighs as the murmur shaded into another lovely moan.

Then it was Pervinca's turn to jump, and to giggle, as Rosie twisted a bit, nuzzled her belly, slid one hand up along her hip and thigh and flank to reach underneath her and cup her breast, gently pressing her nipple between two fingers. Pervinca gasped, and Rosie moaned and giggled at once. "Like that?"

"Oh, yes. Do you want to do this together?"

"That'd be good." Rosie slid her hands up and back, parting Pervinca with two gentle fingers. "Vinca. What do you like?"

"Fingers," Pervinca replied, and turned back to her pleasant task.

It was always a challenge, Pervinca thought as she licked, long strokes up and down Rosie's inner petals, to do this at the same time, to retain enough coherence during one's own pleasure to drive one's partner to their own. It was delightfully difficult now, as Rosie trembled beneath her, quivering even to the ends of her fingertips, two of which were sunk deep within Pervinca while Rosie's thumb pressed steadily and undeniably, sending jolts through Pervinca with every breath or movement. Pervinca moaned into her licks, and Rosie leaned over a bit more, kissed Pervinca's hip, those lovely breasts brushing her side. Oh, for four hands, Pervinca thought; then Rosie twisted her fingers, and for a crackle-hot moment Pervinca couldn't think at all.

"Mmm," she heard herself say, cheek pillowed on Rosie's thigh. "Mmm," she said again, lips to Rosie's nub, and Rosie made the selfsame noise in return, as if she were humming all the way through Rosie. Pervinca thought her smile as she put her tongue to work again and Rosie's 'mmm's shaded into open-mouthed moaning, and then up further, into a delicious cry as she peaked.

There, Pervinca thought, stroking two fingers in deepening circles, not letting Rosie come down; Rosie clutched her hip and wrapped one leg behind her neck and sobbed, "Vinca, oh!" and peaked again so hard she nearly squeezed Pervinca's fingers off. Not that Vinca minded, as she sucked on Rosie's nub and felt a third wave of pleasure crash through her, listened to her sobs crest to a scream.

"Vi, Vi, oh, Vi," Rosie gasped, patting Pervinca's back in a clear signal for a break; Pervinca drew back slowly, kissing her way up to Rosie's navel before she rose up on her knees and just looked at the beautiful pink plump lass who lay before her, panting and melted with pleasure. Rosie raised a hand as if searching for her, and Pervinca lay down beside her again, resting their brows together, and wrapped her arms round her. "Good?" Pervinca asked as she stroked curls off of Rosie's moist brow; Rosie shaped her parted lips to a smile, laughed breathlessly. "Oh, good," she murmured for reply. "Good, good."

Then Rosie drew a deep breath, and opened her eyes, sparkling in the dim green willow-light. "Fingers, eh, Vinca?" she asked as she reached up to push Pervinca onto her back; Pervinca giggled, wrapped her arms round Rosie's waist, kissed her, giggled more when Rosie licked her cheeks and chin. "Fingers it is," Rosie murmured in Pervinca's ear as she nipped a tingling path along it, as she wound her legs round Pervinca's waist, one hand stroking gentle-firm fingertips along Pervinca's collarbone, the other winding itself into Pervinca's hair. Rosie bent her head to follow behind her fingertips as she trailed them lower; Pervinca filled one of her hands with one of Rosie's lush breasts, and held her with the other arm, and just felt as Rosie shuddered and giggled and licked a spiral on her breast, fingers stroking over Pervinca's belly and curls, sliding teasingly beneath her to stroke her rump and inner thighs until Pervinca twitched her hips and moaned impatiently, wanting to grab that wicked little hand and push it where it needed to go. Rosie laughed and kissed her way across Pervinca's face to her cheek, stroking her petals parted, and kissed her mouth just as she sank two fingers into her.

Pervinca moaned her approval and licked Rosie's full sweet lips; Rosie murmured into the kiss, pressed it deeper, tangled their tongues as she twisted her hand maddeningly and pressed a lovely beat on Vinca's nub with her thumb and Pervinca's head hazed over with a fire-shot fog. Oh, Vinca thought with the dwindling coherent corner of her mind, Rosie was a wonder, couldn't've been better if she'd dreamed her. Fire and joy beat behind Pervinca's eyes as Rosie's soft lips moved over hers and her sweet demanding fingers pulled her up to her peak.

"Like it fast, I'll warrant," Rosie murmured over Pervinca's damp gasping mouth, and kissed her again, moving her fingers ceaselessly, pressing their bodies together so Pervinca's nipples and belly rubbed against soft skin, and it all felt so wonderful it ached and Pervinca writhed in its grip, in Rosie's arms, as it built and crested and roared through her like a waterfall of fire.

Pervinca came back to herself with her head thrown back and Rosie's hand steadying and warm on her belly, Rosie's face tucked into the side of her throat, pressing little kisses to her pulse. She found her hands where they'd fallen to the moss, raised them around Rosie, held her and breathed in the sunlight and the water-scent and the perfume of lasses' lovemaking as the fire-fog sank into her bones and her sense slowly returned. "Rosie," Pervinca managed at last, "my old friend, I'm so glad I met you."

Rosie giggled, kissed Pervinca's brow, leaned up on an elbow to look at her. "Vinca Took," she said warmly. "A gammer told me a tale once, of how long long ago a Took met and wed a wee Elf. I could almost believe it, having met you."

Pervinca laughed. "You have the advantage of me, Rosie; you've melted all my wits, I can hardly pay you a compliment anywhere near what you deserve." Rosie smiled wider, lay down and snuggled her head against Pervinca's shoulder again. "I do feel I've known you forever," Rosie said softly. "I've no idea how, but I do."

Pervinca smiled, threaded her fingers in Rosie's hair, stroked gently. After a couple of moments, Rosie asked the question Pervinca was expecting. "Will I see you again?"

Pervinca found herself much sadder than usual to give the answer. "I doubt it, Rosie, for awhile at least. My parents have deemed me 'wild'---" Pervinca snorted---"so I don't see any way out of being married by next Spring; the best of the lot is Everard, so I'll try to settle on him, but any way I manage it I'll have to behave as a proper married hobbit." Pervinca sighed, and Rosie held her a bit tighter. "It's not fair. My brother can gad about as he pleases, lie with whom he pleases, and no one cares who he'll wed. I should have been born a lad." Too much bitterness was escaping into her words, so Pervinca shushed herself, made herself concentrate on the feel of Rosie and this day's bit of freedom..

Rosie kissed her ear sympathetically. "You would have made a fine lad," she said cheeringly, "but I like you as a lass, Vinca." Pervinca laughed at that, indeed cheered, and tilted her head to kiss Rosie again.

Years later, Rosie, now Rose Gamgee, stood beside her husband at the wedding of Peregrin Took and Diamond of Long Cleeve, clinging to his arm for an anchor amidst the crowd of fine gentlefolk. Pippin Took stood beside his radiant bride, with the only other living hobbit of his height behind them, one arm round each of them; laughing before them stood a kinswoman of Pippin's, apparently his sister, as she shared his same lightly freckled skin and chestnut curls. She looked strangely familiar to Rosie---

----Vinca, Rosie thought with a gasp, and pressed her hand to her mouth as the blood rushed to her face. Beside her, Sam chuckled and murmured, "she's not changed a bit from that Yule, has Miz Vinca?" When Rosie looked up, he was smiling, and blushing too. "Tooks are wild," Sam said warmly, "and Mistress Pervinca Took is, if aught, a wilder one than her brother."

Rosie understood, and burst out laughing. "Bywater Pool, that summer's day," she gasped, shaking her head, and Sam grinned. "Gentlehobbits," he replied with a woeful attempt at mock severity, and squeezed her hand as he joined her in laughter.