By: Dana
Summary: Different ways to look at similar things.
Characters: Peridot Bolger and Olivine Hornblower
Pairings: Peridot/Olivine, Talenard/Peridot
Rating: PG
Warnings: Gen but with some femslash and het elements, talk of the Troubles, of violence, and OC character death
Author's Notes: Posted for my month long Birthdaypalooza, August 2007.
I don't know what to say about this one, other than before going on, there were certain things that needing investigating before I could go forward with my plans. I needed to know about Peridot during 1419, because I needed to know about Olivine's fate (since her fate had not quite been pre-ordained).
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.

SR 1419

Olivine had never understood Peridot's feelings for Men – Peridot was certain that Livvie hadn't ever even tried. It wasn't til the Men came again, and withdrew the Shirriffs to Nobottle, Peridot at least found that she herself could understand – for these Men were nothing at all like Elendir, and, in fact, she was insulted, for his sake, for him to be compared with such.

'You wouldn't think that, if you met him,' she told Olivine, as they lay together in bed, rain falling hard against the windows. 'Not only is he a Ranger, but he's been my friend, and Talen's friend, as well, for years.' She thought of him, shut her eyes, and Olivine curled against her, too troubled to speak. If that was as it was, then Peridot would speak for them both.

'He is kind, and very gentle, with a merry laugh. And he is my friend, Livvie, my good friend, and no Ruffian! I'll not have you speaking so foul of my very good friend!'

'Oh, very well,' said Olivine, as if to placate her, and Peridot found herself in a mood to be placated. She let Olivine kiss her, her lips soft and smooth, and Peridot smiled so wide, her cheeks began to ache.

And Olivine's lips were soft and smooth, but distrust shadowed her bright eyes, cast darkness on the shape of her smile.

Peridot knew, then, that Olivine would not understand, and that should be easy enough to bear, but Peridot found herself unable to bear the slightest thought. So she sought for peace between them, and if Olivine would not speak of her distrust, then Peridot would not speak of Elendir, for dear Olivine was her good friend also, and Peridot did not wish to push her away.

Or to be pushed away.

She worried her way through her days, and saw Olivine as often as she could, for she took some peace in Olivine's presence – but she didn't only worry for Olivine's sake.

She felt alone in thinking that Elendir was nothing like these foul Men, for it was spring now, and Talenard had left before Yule, and he was still away.

When cousin Tolly had up and left them, he hadn't gone alone. Talenard had gone with him, for they ever had been close friends. Peridot worried for them both, though more for Talenard –he he'd said, before leaving, that if darkness were to come again, then he would do what he could to keep it away. And anyhow, he'd laughed at the time, I've told Isengrand to keep a watch on Olivine, and I need for you to keep a watch on the both of them! So Peridot had let him go, had not pleaded otherwise: though she had wondered, would he have stayed, if she had? Or if she had suggested that they marry, instead?

He'd been gone now for some long months. There was work to be done, which made the days easier to bear. The Men had not come again to Long Cleeve, not since that first time, though they sat watch on Nobottle, and often went gathering at the farmsteads south of the Rushy Way. Some families had lost everything, and Master Faragrand and Mistress Beryl had taken them in: and there were children from the Tooklands, too, where it was far more dangerous to be now, for the Men kept a close watch on them: parents who had wished their children kept safe, and not thinking their own lands very safe.

Olivine grew more and more distant, and Peridot hardly felt she knew her anymore.

One day, Olivine went away, and Peridot wondered if she would return. She did, and Olivine spoke of Andy Chubb-Took, and how they had gone to Nobottle. Peridot couldn't guess at Olivine's reasoning, but then Olivine told her what she could.

They lay together, for it was comforting, and the room was warm, as rain pounded against the northern window. Olivine told her, 'I went to Nobottle – do you remember, after Yule, when the Men came again, with three of the Nobottle Shirriffs, and they had our own Shirriffs – poor Isenbard – removed to Nobottle. For their own good and safety, we'd been told, but I think they wished to leave us unprotected, if ever they wished to return.'

She remembered this, and so Olivine went on. 'I went there, with Andy – he had business there, and the proper papers, and it was rather frightening, but exhilarating, too. And I found him, Peridot, I found Isen!'

Peridot voiced surprise, for she knew as well as any other that Isenbard North-took had sided with the Men, before going south to Nobottle. That he would not have gone if he had thought otherwise, and that it had been months now, months since he had gone, though not so long as it had been since Talenard had left.

She thought it off that Olivine could speak of Isenbard in such a kind fashion, for Peridot had supposed Olivine thought ill of Isenbard: too, for how could one hobbit stand against another, and how could one hobbit side against his own?

But she did not wish to argue, for that would not be so very different than her own feelings for Elendir – Elendir was a Man, but kind, and not a Ruffian – and Isenbard was a hobbit, and one who'd sympathized with the wrong Men.

If she would argue, then the right time would come. She felt it simmering beneath the surface, often, and so she busied herself with work, with helping her aunt, Mistress Beryl – and Olivine went away, again and again, and Peridot thought that for the best, for surely Olivine could do something better with her time.

Peridot didn't feel bitter, but she wished that Olivine would understand her, for perhaps that would make it easier to understand Olivine.

She would deal with that, for the right time would come for that, as well – and anyhow, she did not wish to argue, anyhow, or to dwell on things she could not change, though she wished that she could change them.

It was autumn, and Andy Chubb-Took and his brother Elly came north from Nobottle, and they went to speak with Master Faragrand, for they had brought ill news: Peridot didn't hear of it until the day after, that Olivine had been killed, beaten to death by the Men of Nobottle, and Peridot had never felt so cold in all her life.

She dropped the cup she had been holding, fell into a swoon. She woke, and her mother sat at her bedside, and Peridot sat and felt cold, still, and numb, and she shook and then wept, for she had not parted with Olivine on very good terms, and now she felt that this would be the breaking of her life.

She wanted to speak with Andy. Or even Olivine's parents. And she wanted to know, if Olivine had met her end at Nobottle, or shortly north of it, then likely that meant that Isenbard had had some doing in it, for what else could she think?

But her mother told her to drink her tea, and to rest, and Peridot did.

The year was close to turning, and a letter came from Talenard: he was well, or well enough, and that he'd come back to her, as soon as he was able: but he was recovering (recovering from what?). Still, he'd wrote, I will come.

That gave her one less thing to worry over, and she had worried too much: she wrote him, wondered what it was like in Longbottom, and why he had not told her more. What he needed now was her love, and not her irritation. So she gave him that, her love, more than she could.

He wrote again, and told her more, and that she would be pleased with the company he'd kept: Lily and Brandy Brownlock have kept me well, my Peridot. You know how talented I am when it comes to doing things that aren't all that good for me, after all. It was a broken leg that had sent him into hiding, and if it hadn't been for his new friends, he wouldn't have had such a good time of it, either. She knew it might have been worse.

She understood, now, certain things: the difference between Elendir and those who'd troubled them, that Isenbard wasn't anything like them, either. She remembered seeing him, on his return to Long Cleeve (two weeks before he removed himself to Greenfields): he had the look of a victim, too, and whatever his own hand in it had been, he couldn't have deserved that.

Had Olivine come to that point, as well, that understanding? Peridot would never know.

I hope to marry you, Peridot, Talenard wrote. I hope you'll have me.

She would, and she didn't need to write him to give her answer, for it was Solmath now, and he returned before she had the chance.

And so it was set – but they were both only twenty-nine, and Peridot's mother wished for her to wait at least until she came of age. She and Talenard agreed – and it seemed a world away, and ahead, four long years, until they would be wed. Four years! Four years and three months, for it was Rethe now, and they would be wed at mid-year – and they would be married, finally, at long last.

Peridot knew that she could wait. She thought herself married, already, in body and spirit, anyhow: she did not wish to hurry things along, for they had hurried enough already. She had her bitterroot, after all, and she had his love. And then, she would be married to her Talen fully, with all the complexities of law.

For a while there, she felt guilty: for Olivine had loved Isengrand, and they had planned on a double wedding. It wasn't that she lost all guilt, but rather felt it less and then less.

Likely, Olivine would have wished her all happiness – and it wasn't that Peridot would go on living without her, for Olivine had been dear to her, and she would live always in Peridot's heart.

Perhaps it was that that made it easier to bear, and easier to speak with Isen, to see the sorrow in his eyes, though she had some joy, in knowing he could still smile. She had been so caught up in her own worries, and she had not kept good watch on him or on Olivine. They had lost her, but they had not lost Isengrand: he was still their friend.

But that somehow made it harder to bear, for Peridot had a hard time believing herself worthy of any happiness, for Olivine had lost hers, and her life, too.

They visited Isenbard in Greenfields, and saw that he seemed well, and brighter, to be in Robin Norfoot's company. Peridot guessed that it was like that for them, as well, though they never need wait on and law: and Peridot found herself happy for them both – for Isenbard needed Robin, someone who would love him without question, someone who'd give warmth and comfort when darkness called. Peridot knew her Talenard had not had so bad time of it, for the most, his time in the Southfarthing: and it might have been worse, but he'd been lucky. He had never seen the Lockholes, the outside or the in, and he only rarely spoke of how he should have kept a better watch on Tolly: perhaps if he had, then Tolly would not have been lost.

So they would think of them, those who were lost, and likely they weep over them as needed – little did better to soothe an aching heart. Peridot decided, in seeing Isenbard and seeing how he went on living: and Peridot would do well by those who had been lost, would live her own life as best she could.

She told Talen, that, and them both tangled in a borrowed bed, the air cold and rain pounding the windows. Isenbard and Robin had made them their guests, and Peridot and Talenard would stay in Greenfields, at least for another week. And what guests they had made! Peridot and her black mood, Talen and his limp.

'That's just as we should do, ' and Talen kissed her, his mouth soft. 'It's all we can.'

Was Isenbard fully healed? Were any of them? Healing was not quick in coming, and Peridot did wish to make a rush of it: but perhaps all they needed was a little more time.