Four’s a Crowd

 

A/N: Written for Marigold’s 4^th challenge. As you have probably guessed, the title is a play on one of the chapter names from The Fellowship of the Ring (‘Three is Company’). Since I really like Fredegar Bolger, I thought I’d write a fic involving him, and since Pippin is my all time favourite character, naturally, he had to be in it too! Thus, this little fic will look into the beginnings of the friendship between these two characters.

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S.R. 1409

“Do you think we ought to try and cross here? Maybe if we go a bit further we’ll find a better place.”

Three hobbits stopped to look at the forth member of their walking party, one Fredegar Bolger. Frodo Baggins and Meriadoc Brandybuck exchanged amused grins, but Peregrin Took, who was the youngest of the group, rolled his eyes.

“Honestly, Fatty,” he sighed. “You of all people should be against any further travelling. You have not stopped whining since we left Hobbiton.”

Pippin seemed uncomfortable having Fredegar there. Since Peregrin had been old enough for his parents to allow it, he, along with cousins Merry and Frodo, would go on walking and camping trips around the Shire. Occasionally, they were joined by Pippin’s sister, Pervinca, or Frodo’s gardener, Sam Gamgee, but Pippin preferred it when it was just the three of them.

This was the first time they had brought Fredegar with them. Fatty was a close friend of Merry’s cousin, Berilac. It was the time of year that Berry would usually visit the Bolgers, but this year, Fredegar’s younger sister, Estella, was ill, so Berry had gone to Bree with his father and old Uncle Saradas. He had asked Merry to take Fredegar with him to Hobbiton, since Odovacar and Rosamunda Bolger were trying to keep Estella quarantined.

Needless to say, Peregrin had not been impressed when Merry had turned up at Bag-End with Fredegar in tow. He liked to know in advance when they would have an extra guest, and besides, he did not know Fredegar all that well. The fact that he was Berilac’s friend did not aid in the matter. Peregrin and Berilac did not always get along.

Thus, the walking trip had started out badly, with Pippin in a bad mood, not helped in any way by Fredegar’s constant complaints.

“Are we close yet? When shall we arrive? My feet are starting to hurt! Is it time to eat?”

This most recent complaint about finding a “better place” to cross The Water had been the last straw. The hobbits planned on camping on an island made by a split in The Water. They quite often chose the place, as it was far enough out of the way to be peaceful, but close enough to nearby Frogmorton if the weather turned nasty.

“I was just saying that it looks a little deep here,” Fredegar retorted to Pippin’s insult. “Most hobbits don’t enjoy water so much as the Brandybucks, and so, cannot swim. I happen to be one of those.”

“It’s not very deep at all, Fatty,” said Frodo. “We come here all the time, and we’ve found that this is the best place to cross.” He had the most patience of them all, probably accountable to him being the eldest.

“If you say so, Frodo,” Fredegar replied, earning a scowl from Pippin.

They all took their packs off and held them above their heads while they waded through the stream. At its deepest point it only came up to Pippin’s chest, and he was the shortest. He shot a smug grin at Fredegar, but Fredegar just ignored it.

“That wasn’t so bad, now, was it, Fatty,” said Merry. He desperately hoped that Pippin would not lose his temper again. The young Took seldom did, but when the event occurred, all pitied whoever had dared to make Peregrin mad.

“I suppose it was not quite so bad as I expected, but I would have preferred it if we had been able to avoid getting all wet.” Fredegar looked down to regard his clothes, which were completely soaked through.

“Change into some dry clothes if you are so worried,” Peregrin hissed, though not quite loud enough for Fredegar to hear.

“You’ll live, Fredegar,” Merry laughed, who had heard Pippin’s whispered retort. He gave his young cousin a stern glare. “Not too far now.”

“Well, that, at least, is good news.” Fredegar shouldered his pack once more, and waited for the others to lead him to their camping site.

Merry had meant it when he had said “not too far”.  After ten minutes of walking alongside The Water, Frodo, Merry and Pippin took off their packs and sat. They had come to a clearing in the woods that seemed to choke the small island. The Water was wide and deep on one side of the clearing, and Fredegar understood why they had not chosen this spot to cross.

“This is rather nice,” he commented, also placing his pack on the ground.

“I told you you’d like it,” replied Merry. He opened his pack, and started rummaging through it. A moment later, he looked up with an annoyed look on his face. “Damn.”

Frodo frowned, but did not comment on Merry’s use of language. “What’s the matter?”

“I forgot the bread. I must have left it in the kitchen.”

Pippin sighed loudly. “You always manage to forget something, Meriadoc.”

“Forgive me, Peregrin, for managing to do so, since I always have to bring everything. Perhaps if you offered to bring along a few things, I would not have to worry so much, and so would not forget!”

Frodo stepped in before the cousins broke into a fight. He was sure that there would be enough of those in days to come, if Pippin’s manner towards Fredegar was anything to go by. “Come now, it’s no big loss. Merry, you and I will just go to Frogmorton and pick some up. We shan’t be long. Fredegar, do you suppose you could start a fire?”

“Will do, Frodo,” Fredegar replied. He smiled smugly at Pippin. It was more than obvious that the young Took resented that Fredegar had been asked to light the fire instead of him. “Pippin, would you like to collect some firewood for me?”

Pippin opened his mouth to say something nasty, but thought better of it. Instead, he smiled sweetly. “Why, of course, Fatty. After all, we would not want you to get lost.”

“We should be back soon,” said Frodo, frowning at Pippin. “Stay out of mischief.” He and Merry started back up The Water towards the spot where they had crossed.

Fredegar and Pippin turned to face each other. Pippin glared at the older hobbit, before turning away to go in search of firewood. Fredegar sighed. It was going to be a long day.

There was a small amount of wood already in the clearing, so Fredegar got to work on a small fire while he waited for Pippin to return with more wood. He also hoped to get one started before the Took returned. He had never been particularly good at lighting campfires, and he knew if Pippin was to find that out, it would give him something else to tease Fredegar about.

After a few tries, he managed to get a small flame going. Feeling very proud of himself, Fredegar grinned, but the grin faded very quickly. Peregrin had returned, and dumped a stack of wood right on top of Fredegar’s small fire. The flame had gone out.

“Pippin!” Fredegar cried. “You put my fire out!”

Pippin looked back and shrugged. “So light it again. It was too small anyway. Now you have a good pile of wood to work with.”

Fredegar took a deep breath – something his father had taught him to do when he was angry. He focussed his attention on the firewood. He found it much more difficult now, with more wood to work with and the uncomfortable knowledge that Peregrin was watching his every move.

“Would you like some help?” Pippin offered, in a sickly sweet voice.

“No, thank you, Master Peregrin,” Fredegar replied, through gritted teeth. “I am quite capable of lighting a fire. Besides, Frodo asked me to do it, which makes me think that he did not wish for you to be playing with fire.”

Pippin snorted, but said no more. Fredegar was left in peace for another few moments. Of course, if Fredegar had known Peregrin Took better, he would have known that the lad was unable to keep quiet for a significant length of time. Soon Pippin started whistling.

Fredegar sighed. “Would you mind not doing that?”

“Why? I’m just whistling,” came the reply. “I thought you said you could light a fire. I’m not really surprised that you can’t. I always thought that Bolgers were rather dense.”

“I can…” Fredegar trailed off as he registered Pippin’s last statement. He turned around slowly to glare at the younger hobbit. “What did you just say about Bolgers?”

“I thought they were dense.”

Fredegar dropped his match and stood to face Pippin. “Why don’t you come over here and say that?”

Seeing as his mother was from the family, Fredegar probably should have known better than to challenge a Took. Pippin also stood, and made his way over to Fredegar. Standing in front of the larger hobbit, he smirked. “Bolgers are stupid.”

Fredegar grabbed the Took around the collar and raised him above the ground. “Take that back!”

“What are you going to do if I don’t?”

It took all of Fredegar’s self control to not hit Pippin. After all, he was sure that hitting the only son of the future Thain was not the best of ideas. There was probably some form of terrible punishment. He was also quite sure that Pippin knew this very well. Fredegar lowered the younger hobbit to the ground.

Pippin snorted again. He started to walk away, but did not watch where he was going. Neither hobbit had noticed that when Fredegar had dropped his match, it had been lit and started a small fire. Pippin planted his foot right in the centre of the flame. There was a moment of complete silence, before the young Took wailed.

Fredegar’s eyes widened in horror. Some of the hairs on the top of Pippin’s foot had caught alight. Not knowing what else to do, Fredegar picked up Pippin, ran towards The Water, and tossed the Took in. Pippin made a huge splash, and Fredegar was almost certain he saw steam rising from the water.

As the water settled, Fredegar hesitantly took a step into the shallow edge. Pippin had not yet come to the surface, and his splash had stirred up the silt from the bottom of the river. Fredegar could see no sign of the younger hobbit. His face paled.

“Pippin?” he called. Whatever the punishment was for hitting the only son of the future Thain, Fredegar knew that the punishment for drowning the only son of the future Thain would be far worse. He took another hesitant step into the water. In front of his toes, he could feel that the bottom of the river dropped quite suddenly. He wondered how deep the patch of water he had thrown Pippin into was.

As he pondered this, and started to worry what he was going to tell Merry and Frodo when they returned, he felt something wrap around his leg. Fredegar only had the chance to cry out for a second before he was dragged under the water.

Fredegar did not know how he managed to find his way back to the surface of The Water, but the first thing he heard when his head broke out was the sound of laughter. Fredegar spluttered around until his feet found something solid to stand on, then he turned to see where the laughter was coming from.

Only a few feet from him, dripping wet but very much alive, was Pippin, and he was laughing hysterically.

“I don’t see what’s so funny, Peregrin,” Fredegar snapped.

“You’re all wet, Fatty!” Pippin laughed. He swam over to Fredegar. “You should have seen the look on your face!”

“Is this how you thank me for putting out the fire on your foot?”

“Oh, don’t be daft. It was your fault my foot caught alight anyway.”

Fredegar’s mouth dropped. “My fault…? Why you…?” He could not think of anything else to do, so he splashed the Took.

Pippin had been laughing again, so Fredegar’s splash filled his mouth with water. He spat out the water, and with a grin, splashed Fredegar back. Fredegar retaliated, and soon, they were involved in an all out water war.

“Truce!” Pippin cried, after a good while of splashing.

“What’s the matter, Master Peregrin?” Fredegar laughed. “You know you can’t beat me, don’t you? Giving up?”

“Never!” Pippin tackled Fredegar, and they both went under.

When they emerged, Fredegar offered his hand to Pippin, and accepted the truce. Together, they climbed out of the water. Pippin was limping from the burns on his foot, so Fredegar offered to carry him. Back at their little camp, they both changed into dry clothes, and sat in front of Fredegar’s, now roaring, campfire.

Fredegar took out a small bag from his pack, and from it, removed a bottle of ointment and a bandage. “My father is a healer,” he explained, when Pippin gave him a questioning look. He rubbed the ointment onto Pippin’s burns, causing the young Took to wince. Then he bound the foot securely, but not tightly, with the bandage.

Pippin grinned. “Thank you, Fredegar.”

Fredegar noticed that this was the first time Peregrin had used his real name, rather than his nickname. “You are welcome, Peregrin. Now, do you suppose they left us anything to eat?”

* * * * * *

When Merry and Frodo returned an hour or so later, they found Pippin and Fredegar sitting in front of the fire, exchanging stories and munching on apples. They also saw that Pippin’s right foot was bandaged.

“Have fun while we were gone, lads?” Merry asked.

“Hullo, Merry, Frodo,” Pippin greeted. “You took your time.”

“We ran into a few people we knew.”

“You mean you went to the Inn for an ale.” Pippin grinned as Merry turned red. Fredegar chuckled.

“What happened to your foot, Pippin?” said Frodo.

“We had an accident with the fire,” Fredegar explained. “But I looked after it.”

“Fatty has a healer’s bag with him,” Pippin proudly stated. “Very smart hobbits, those Bolgers. Oh, and I’ve asked Fatty to come with us again, next time we go camping.”

Merry and Frodo exchanged a look. Obviously something had happened in their absence, and now Fredegar and Pippin were getting along splendidly. They did not bother asking what had actually happened. If Fredegar and Pippin wanted them to know, they would have told them already.

“Sounds good to me,” said Frodo. “Perhaps next time we can convince Sam to come along too.”

Pippin screwed up his nose. “Well, I don’t know, Frodo. I mean, four is good company, but five is getting to be a bit of a crowd.”

 

The End

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A/N: I’ve always been under the assumption that Pippin and Fatty are quite good friends (despite their age gap), because of the way that they greet each other after Fatty is rescued from the Lockholes. I hope you enjoyed my little story about how that friendship came about.

As for the island they camped on, I found it one the map of the Shire, and thought it looked like a rather good camping site. I also figured many of the other author’s who were given this starter probably would have used the Brandywine River, so I wanted to avoid using it. (And now, I’ll bet that everyone else didn’t use the Brandywine, just to spite me!)