“You may kiss her now, Samwise,” Will Whitfoot said. Sam blushed and leaned forward to kiss Rosie. Cheers erupted from the crowd. Frodo was laughing, something he hadn’t done often since they had returned to the Shire. Sam had loved Rosie since before they were tweenagers, but he had always been too shy to approach her. But after they had returned, he asked her for her hand in marriage and kissed her in front of everyone at the Green Dragon. Frodo’s title fitted him perfectly; he truly was Samwise the Stouthearted.
Rosie turned to the crowd and threw her bouquet. Pippin reached out to catch it. He looked at the white, yellow, and lavender flowers. He had seen the lass beside him reach for it. Either she was bemused at seeing the Thain’s Heir holding a wedding bouquet or slightly frustrated at not catching it, Pippin couldn’t tell. He gave her a cheeky grin and she tried unsuccessfully to surpress her laughter.
She looked vaguely familiar. Her hair was a deep rich brown, her skin fair, and her eyes a dark blue. Of course Pippin had seen just about every lass in the Shire, but when he saw this one he thought he should remember something about her.
He meant to ask her for a dance during the reception, but she was nowhere to be found. Pippin shrugged it off and didn’t think about her for a long, long time.