Stories of Arda - Lord of the Rings Fan-Fiction Archive

At some point, I began to write down little one-chapter stories about different events in the lives of Merry and Pippin. Each chapter is a complete story on its own. They have two things in common, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took. Other characters appear from time to time, but these stories are mainly about the friendship between Merry and Pippin. I have no idea how many of these there will be because they just keep coming and coming and coming and, well, you get the idea. Feel free to read as many of them as you can tolerate.

These characters, most certainly, are not mine no matter how much I wish that they were. *sigh* All of the really good ones were created by J.R.R. Tolkien. I am just using them for a bit and I hope that no one notices that they are gone because I plan to put them back, honest!

This isn't the first one of these that I wrote but it seems a good place to start so I am posting it first. After that, well things could go almost anywhere.

“But Frodo, I don’t think I want to hold it,” Merry objected, backing away from his older cousin. “You hold it.”

“Him, Merry, not it,” Frodo said. “It’s a little lad.” Frodo was cradling a bundle of soft, white blankets in his arms. The blankets were moving about a bit and a gurgling noise was coming from inside of them.

“Fine, so it’s a him then,” Merry said, still unwilling to take the offered bundle. “Whatever it is, it cried most of the night and kept everyone awake.”

“So that’s it, then, “ Frodo laughed. “You are angry with him because he kept you up all night.”

“You weren’t here,” Merry said. “It was dreadful. How does anything that small make all of that noise?”

Merry glared at him from over top of the blankets and said, “I told you I didn’t want this.”

Frodo smiled at his eight-year-old cousin and said, ‘You may not want him, but he’s here. We should try to get used to him.”

“I’m going home in a couple of weeks, Frodo and you’ll be going home too,” Merry said. “We don’t have to get used to it all that much. We’ll be gone and he’ll be here.” Merry was smiling. The bundle continued to squirm and Merry ignored it and sat down in the floor, still holding the unwanted infant.

“Careful with him, Merry-lad,” Frodo advised. “Babies are rather delicate. You have to be careful how you hold them.” Frodo sat down in a near-by chair and watched Merry screw his face up in disgust.

“I didn’t want to hold it in the first place, Frodo,” Merry objected. “Let’s give it to someone else and go play.”

“I can’t give him to someone else just now, Merry,” Frodo said. “His mum isn’t feeling well and everyone is taking a rest. They were all up very late last night.”

“I know who’s fault that was,” Merry said, looking down at the wiggling bundle accusingly.

“All the same,” Frodo said. “I promised that I would watch him for a while.” He picked up a book that sat on the table next to the chair he was in and opened it.

“I thought you were ‘sposed to watch him,” Merry said. “I really don’t think I’m going to like him.”

“Well, he kept me awake with his howling all night and I know babies bite,” Merry said.

“Merry, this baby is too small to have any teeth,” Frodo laughed. “He can’t bite you.”

Merry peered into the bundle of blankets at the small face of his newest cousin curiously. He unwrapped the baby a bit so that he could look closer. He took a quick glance at Frodo to make sure that he wasn’t looking and then he stuck his finger into the baby’s mouth. The baby’s eyes widened slightly and he opened his mouth. Merry ran his finger around the baby’s gums and peered into the tiny mouth intently. “You don’t have any teeth,” Merry said, to the baby. “How do you eat? No wonder you cry all the time.”

The baby began to kick its small fuzzy feet and more of the blankets moved. Now Merry could see the baby very well. It was small and squirmy and soft everywhere. It had a few wisps of reddish looking curls on its small head and more on it’s tiny feet. It looked at Merry and made that gurgling sound that it was making before.

“Don’t talk to me,” Merry said, firmly. “I don’t plan to like you. I have enough cousins and all of them have teeth.” The eight-year-old watched the baby for a reaction to this and the little fists began to punch the air. The small hobbit wriggled a bit and then burped.

Merry laughed in spite of himself. “If you don’t have any teeth, then how come you need to burp?” Merry looked up at Frodo and asked. “What is this one’s name again?”

“Merry, the baby’s name is Peregrin,” Frodo said. “Get used to him.” He then turned back to the book. He wasn’t really reading but this had to be settled now or there would be trouble later. Merry had to realize that he was the proud owner of a new cousin.

“Peregrin?” Merry wrinkled his nose in distaste. “That’s too much name for this baby. We should call it something easier.”

“Well, you can call him whatever you like I suppose, but his name is still going to be Peregrin,” Frodo said.

“Poor lad,” Merry said, looking at the baby again. “No teeth and a dreadful name. I guess the least I can do is be a bit nice to you while I’m here.” The baby made the gurgling sound again and kicked Merry in the chest. “But don’t get to like me, because I’m going home in two weeks.” The baby kicked him again and Merry smiled. “Good, you don’t like me either. I think this will work out just fine.”

“I didn’t think it would work, Merry, but it really does, doesn’t it?” Pippin said, marveling at his older cousin’s handiwork.

“You said it would, but I really didn’t see how it could, until now,” Pippin admitted, not noticing or ignoring, Merry’s annoyance. “I didn’t quite understand how the rope would catch, but it really works very well. It was very smooth and very fast. I hardly had time to notice what was happening until it was already finished.”

Merry groaned and shifted his weight as best he could. “I’m ever so happy that you are impressed.”

“Well, of course I am, Merry,” Pippin said. “I certainly couldn’t have done this. I wouldn’t have even known how to begin it. If it weren’t for you being so patient and all and telling me every step of the way what it was that needed doing, well then, I suspect that it wouldn’t have worked at all.”

“No, likely it wouldn’t,“ Merry grumbled, shifting a bit again. This was ridiculous! How did things like this happen? He couldn’t even blame this one on Pippin. It would have felt so much better to be able to blame this all on Pippin. How had he let this happen?

“Well, I can’t imagine a better trick. Why I suspect that Garrett will be completely surprised just like I was, Merry,” Pippin said, proudly. “Why he won’t know what has happened to him until it’s too late and I suspect that he’ll never figure out how to get out of it without help, will he?”

“No, Pip,” Merry sighed. “No, he won’t have any idea how to get out of it.”

“Merry, how does one get out of it?” Pippin asked, curiously. Then just as quickly, before Merry could answer, he said, “Look down there on the ground! All of your change, Merry! It must be yours because I didn’t have any, remember? Isn’t that funny?” Pippin was pointing at Merry’s change below them and giggling.

“Yes, very funny,” Merry growled, looking at the change. “It always makes me laugh when I see all of my pocket change on the ground.”

“Merry?” Pippin said, sounding concerned. “Are you upset about something? I mean, did I do something, Merry?”

“Upset? Why would I be upset, Pip?” Merry roared. “No, you didn’t do anything. How could you have done anything from here?”

“That’s quite true, Merry,” Pippin said, reassured. “I don’t think I could do anything just now. I think my ankles are starting to go numb. I can’t altogether feel my toes anymore. I guess the blood is running to my head.”

“What about the change, Merry?” Pippin asked, not hearing clearly. “You have to speak a wee bit louder since we’re back to back or I can’t hear you.”

“It was nothing, Pippin,” Merry said. “Certainly nothing helpful.” Merry folded his arms and winced.

“Are your toes numb too, Merry? I guess that would be part of this whole thing, wouldn’t it?” Pippin said, thinking as he went. “The rope tightens around your ankle and lifts you up in the air and then holds you there so I suppose it would be likely to happen to anyone in this position, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes,” Merry admitted, letting his hands drop so that they hung below his head a foot or so from the floor of the barn. “Anyone who was stupid enough to be in this position would have that problem in a while.”

“I really feel a bit sorry for poor Garrett, Merry,” Pippin said. “He has been very nasty lately, but we won’t leave him like this for very long will we?”

“I was planning on leaving him like this for an hour or so just to teach him a lesson, “ Merry admitted. “You think that’s too harsh?”

“Yes, Merry,” Pippin said. “It’s interesting at first, but it does make your toes numb and I think my head is starting to hurt a wee bit just now. Must be all of that blood rushing in there at once.”

“I suspect that’s what it is, “ Merry said, feeling himself began to sway back and forth a bit. “Pippin, what are you doing?”

Pippin giggled. “If I swing my arms, it makes us swing back and forth like, well, like we were on a swing only upside down of course!” He laughed. “Fun, isn’t it?”

“No, stop it,” Merry objected. “It’s making me a bit queasy. Quit it!”

Sorry, Merry,” Pippin said. “It passes the time though. If you’re feeling bad, maybe we should get down and reset the trap now. I know Garrett won’t be out here in the barn until in the morning, but I suppose that we should get everything ready in case he comes in early.”

“No, he’s not likely to be out here before dawn,” Merry said, sickly. “I suspect that no one will be out here before morning.”

“Well, then we do have plenty of time,” Pippin said, brightly. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know, Pip, “ Merry said. “My watch is on the ground next to my change, see.” He pointed to his pocket watch and Pippin turned his head to look.

“Oh, I see it,” Pippin crowed. “It’s over there and I can’t make out the numbers from up here. I wonder what time it is?”

“I guess you ‘re looking forward to seeing Garrett’s face, aren’t you Merry?” Pippin asked.

“Not now, really,” Merry admitted. “I was looking forward to that earlier, but now, I don’t suppose that I will enjoy it much at all.”

“You’re starting to feel sorry for him too, aren’t you?” Pippin said, knowingly. “It is a very good trick, but it might be a bit too mean, Merry. Maybe we shouldn’t do this after all.”

“I don’t think we’re going to be doing much of anything for a while, Pip,” Merry sighed, as he looked over toward the open doors of the barn and out into the night. “I suspect that we’ll just be hanging around here.”

Pippin laughed. “That’s funny, Merry. Now, let’s get down and go to bed.”

“Don’t tease, Merry,” Pippin said. “I know I’m not as old as you are, but don’t tease me. After all, I’m not an idiot you know. I know that you couldn’t have built this trap if you didn’t know how it works. I know , that you know how to get us down so don’t pretend you don’t know, Merry. I know you know and you know it!”

“Don’t do that, Pip,” Merry moaned. “Don’t talk in circles while I’m hanging upside down from a rope. It makes my head hurt.”

“Fine, but I know,” Pippin said, firmly. “Now, just get us down from here. I think I’m dizzy.”

“Peregrin, this is a trap. It’s a type of a snare. You connect the rope so that when whatever or whom-ever you are trying to catch steps into the loop, it springs the trap, the rope loops around their ankles, tightens and pulls them upside down and-“

“I know, I know, already, you’ve explained it a hundred times at least while we were building it,” Pippin sighed, exasperated. “It pulls them upside down and hangs them up like a side of pork in a smoke house. They then hang there, by their ankles until someone finds them and cuts them down. Now, will you please get us down, Merry?”

“Pippin, I would love to get us down. You have no idea how very much that idea appeals to me just now,” Merry said. “In fact, it sounds wonderful to me and I would be more than happy to do it, but I can’t.”

“You can’t? What do you mean you can’t?” Pippin said in a rather small voice.

“Well, I am hanging by my ankles in just the same way that you are, Pippin and so I can’t reach the rope to cut us down just now, can I?” Merry asked.

“So, tomorrow morning when Garrett Brandybuck, my most evil of cousins comes in here early before everyone else so that he can get started cleaning this barn, which he wouldn’t have to be doing, by the way, if he and I hadn’t gotten into that big fight the other day,” Merry sighed. “If Garrett and I hadn’t been caught fighting in the great Hall by my mum, then Garrett wouldn’t be the first one to come out here at the break of day to meet me so that he and I can muck out the stalls!” Merry paused for effect, letting this sink in a bit and then continued. “That was why this was the perfect place to put the trap, remember?”

“Because we knew that Garrett would get here before anyone else and so we wouldn’t be hanging anyone else upside down, just Garrett. Also, we would get to watch him,” Pippin paused in thought. “What was it you said, Merry?”

“We will get to watch him twist in the wind and beg for mercy,” Merry groaned.

“I guess now, he will get to watch us twist in the wind and beg for mercy, won’t he, Merry?” Pippin said.

“I’m not begging,” Merry growled, folding his arms over his chest again in defiance.

“You don’t mind if I try begging a bit when he comes, do you?’ Pippin asked a bit mournfully as the two of them hung there, suspended by their ankles from Merry's wonderfully well-built snare.

There he stands in my doorway, clutching a very large stuffed rabbit who’s name is Errol. I have no idea why the rabbit’s name is Errol, but it is. He is looking at me with those green eyes of his and bitting his lower lip as he sways from foot to foot.

He won’t come in because I’ve told him not to do so. I’ve told him that I am going to sleep and that he is to go back to his room. I am going to sleep. I have my eyes closed now, but I know he is looking at me. I can always tell when someone is staring at me and he is staring. He won’t come in but he hasn’t left yet. He is hoping that I will change my mind and let him sleep in here tonight, but I won’t.

I know if I let him come in this time, that I won’t be able to get rid of him. He and that large rabbit will be here every night taking up most of the room in my bed and squirming about and asking me questions. Not the rabbit of course, the child.

Peregrin Took will be in my bedroom for good and all if I let him. It is enough that he follows my every step all day long. I do not need him sleeping in my room. I am nearly grown now and shouldn’t be bothered with a four-year-old child. I am thirteen in fact which is very nearly grown even if adults don't know this, other lads do.

I am fairly certain that he is afraid of the dark and I know that he hates to sleep alone. I used to be afraid when I was five, but I out-grew that nonsense pretty quick. I used to bother my older cousin Frodo Baggins the way that Peregrin is bothering me now. I used to come into his room and get into his bed and he would protect me. Now I’m a big lad and I can protect myself. Now Frodo can sleep undisturbed. I will also sleep undisturbed as soon as Peregrin gives up and goes to bed. I am pretending to sleep now so he will go away.

I am much older now but I am, most certainly, not a baby-minder. I open one eye to a very small slit so that I can peek out and he is there. Still there in my doorway with that rabbit! I can’t see him too well because it is very dark and he is very small, but he is there. I can hear him sniffling and I know that he is probably crying, but I have to be strong. I have to hold my ground. I must ignore him completely.

The small hobbit lad in the doorway sniffles again and then starts to turn around, dragging the feet of the big, stuffed rabbit behind him as he goes. I can hear sound of his tiny feet on the wooden floor as he leaves. He is talking to the rabbit now. “It’s all right Errol. It’s not that dark. We’ll be fine. We don’t need that old Merry to sleep with us. We’re brave because I’m a big lad now.” The voice is shaky and unconvincing. If Errol the rabbit has any sense at all in that big stuffed head of his he knows that Pippin is lying. They are in big trouble and Pippin knows that.

I hear the sounds of his feet as he runs to the door. He is standing there waiting for me to say something more. “Yes, Merry? Did you call me? I was just g-going to my bed like you said for me to go before when I was here.”

“Get in here and bring that goofy rabbit with you,” I say, trying to sound grouchy.

More patter of feet thumping through my room and he sails into my bed faster than I would have believed was possible pulling the rabbit with him. He is instantly burrowing down under my blankets and putting his cold toes on my leg. “Now, you lay still and you don’t say anything because I am very sleepy. Do you understand, Pip?” I need to get things settled.

He is nodding now because I told him not to speak. I go on. “This is the only time I am letting you sleep in here so don’t get used to it. Do you understand?” More nodding and what might be a smile, but it’s too dark to tell. “Good, now go to sleep.”

He pulls in close to me while gripping the rabbit in his arms and snuggles. “I know I’m not ‘sposed to say nothing, Merry, but Errol wants to thank you for letting us stay. He was afeart of the dark.”

I sigh. “Well, Errol is only a rabbit and sometimes they do get frightened,” I say, playing along.

“Errol is sorry he’s lots of trouble and keeps you awake, Merry,” he says, softly. “I just, Errol just feels safer in here with you than in that other dark room.”

I am growing up because now I’m big enough to protect someone. I suppose that’s a good thing. “Tell Errol that I don’t mind and if he really is that scared, then he can sleep in here while he is visiting Brandy Hall as long as he’s quiet.”

“Oh, Merry, Errol is always quiet,” He says as if I should know this. I do know this but I wasn’t too sure that the Pipsqueak did.

“Good, then he can stay,” I say, thinking that is the end of it, but no, there’s more. With Peregrin Took there is always more.

“Can I sleep here too or just Errol? Because I’m not very quiet sometimes and Pearl says I talk too much at night even after I’m not sposed to but I do cause I can’t help it, I just do. Can I Merry?” He stops to breathe and turns to face me in the dark with Errol the rabbit now between us. “Please?”

“Yes, Pip, you can stay too,” I say and I give him a hug because he is little and he needs me.

This story came about because of a story that I wrote about Pipin's sisters which is called "Sisters" and is posted here on Arda. The story mentions an incident involving Pippin's sister Pearl and a bucket. It isn't clear just what happened by the mention in that story and so this is the missing part.
This story is mentioned in the chapter called "Pearl". You don't have to read that one to read this one. This story is complete on its own like the others listed here.

In this one Pearl is 24, Pimpernel is 21, Merry is 18, Pervinca is 15 and Pippin is 10.

“I can so do it, Vince!” Pippin yelled at his older sister. “Merry showed me and I can so do it!”

“No, you can't. You’re arms are too scrawny,” Pervinca said, smiling over at her younger brother.

Merry sighed. These two fought over everything. Pervinca was five years older than Pippin and the two of them seldom got along. Merry had no brothers or sisters and sometimes, after spending a day listening to Pervinca and Pippin do battle, he was very glad he was an only child. “He can do it, sometimes, Pervinca," Merry said, trying to defuse this battle before it became a war.

“See,” Pippin said, smiling. “Merry says I can.” The youngster stretched to his full height which wasn’t very impressive at this point.

Pervinca, who was several inches taller, smiled back down at him. “Prove it, then.”

Pippin frowned for a minute, bit his lower lip and then walked over to the center of the barn. “Fine! I’ll do it and you’ll see,” Pippin said. He glanced over at Merry for reassurance and cracked his knuckles.

“Just keep your elbows stiff and concentrate on holding your legs straight,” Merry said. At eighteen, Merry always tried to encourage Pippin in his efforts. The younger lad relied on him a great deal and Merry had become quite fond of the little scamp. At ten, Pippin was a bit on the scrawny side, but he’d fill out. The lad ate constantly, after all.

“Don’t rush him,” Merry said. “If you rush him he might fall and hurt himself.”

Pervinca frowned. “Well, if he does, then it will be your fault, Merry Brandybuck because you taught him this trick in the first place.” She delivered this news smugly and then looked over at Pippin who was still building his nerve. “Maybe you shouldn’t do it, Pippin. You might fall on your head or something.”

Merry arched an eyebrow. It seemed that Pervinca might be worried for her little brother’s safety. Pippin’s sisters were far too careful with the lad in Merry’s opinion. They’d turn him into a little sissy if someone didn’t take the lad in hand. That was where Merry came in. He would see to it that Pippin did lad things and that he wasn’t afraid to try new things. “You’ll be fine, Pip.”

Pippin smiled that sunny smile of his and flipped himself onto his hands. The little hobbit managed to stand there for a few seconds and then fell to one side. “I almost had it,” Pippin said, sitting on the barn floor. Rain was falling outside which was why the three of them were in the barn in the first place. They had all been bored to death inside. It had rained for three days now and all of them had needed to get out for a bit. Pervinca was cranky, Pippin was filled with pent up energy, and Merry was in desperate need of a change of scenery.

Pearl Took, Pippin’s oldest sister, had been annoyed with all three of them and had readily agreed that they should go out to the barn and play. She was in charge of them for the day because Pippin’s parents were in Tuckborough visiting friends. They had left before the rain had started and they had not yet returned. Pearl was sure that they would wait out the rain before starting back. Their absence was nothing new to her and she was often left in charge of the younger ones.

Pearl was inside, along with Pippin’s twenty-one year-old sister, Pimpernel doing the cleaning and a bit of baking. She was glad to have the three younger ones out of the way for a bit. With any luck, they would all work off some energy.

Pippin stood, dusted himself off a bit and prepared for a second try. He had begged Merry to teach him this amazing trick from the minute he’d seen it. Merry could walk the entire length of the barn on his hands and Pippin wanted to be able to do this also. Pippin wanted to be able to do everything that Merry did. Sometimes, this was a bit of a problem but Merry hadn’t minded teaching this trick to Pippin. It had kept the lad amused and it would also help to built up the strength in those woefully skinny arms. Pippin gave a look over at Pervinca to see if she was still watching. She stuck out her tongue at him and said, “That was not a very good beginning.”

“I was just warming up,” Pippin said, insulted. “I’m better after I’ve warmed up.” He took a deep breath and then turned himself onto his hands again. His furry feet lifted into the air and he struggled to straighten his knees. Merry found that he was holding his own breath as he watched.

“Come on, Pip,” Merry encouraged. “You can do it.” As if propelled by Merry’s words, Pippin began to move forward. It was a shaky start at first, but with each step, Pippin’s balance seemed to improve. Merry’s face split into a grin and he stuck his tongue out at Pervinca. Sometimes she made him do the most childish things.

Pippin ‘s hands continued to move him across the barn while his little legs waved in the air. This was Pippin’s best effort so far and Merry was very encouraged. “Lookin’ good, Pip!”

Pippin, forgetting to concentrate, turned his head slightly in Merry’s direction and puffed, “Thanks, Merry!” He managed to get both words out and then his elbows gave way and down he went. Both of the lad's elbows jutted out to his sides and his head went straight down to the barn floor between them and into the bucket that he had been maneuvering over top of just seconds earlier.

“Pippin!” Pervinca shrieked, and she ran over as her little brother fell flat on the ground, face down with his head in the bucket. She and Merry raced over and lifted the child into a sitting position.

“Pippin, are you all right?” Merry demanded, trying not to laugh. Pippin looked quite comical sitting on the floor with a bucket on his head.

“Honestly, Pippin,” Pervinca scolded, now over her fear as Pippin began to stretch out his legs in front of himself. “You look ridiculous. Take that thing off.”

Pippin, ignoring the bucket, turned toward the sound of his sister’s voice and announced, “See, Vince, I told you I could do it!”

Merry laughed. “You sound funny under there, Pip.” Pippin’s voice was echoing off of the metal bucket.

Pippin giggled which sounded even funnier and both Merry and Pervinca laughed with him. “I do sound funny! I didn’t see this bucket when I was upside down, Merry.”

Pippin giggled again. “Not really. It’s a wee bit dark in here and kind of stuffy.”

“I bet this is like a helmet,” Pippin said, thoughtfully. “Maybe like the ones that Bilbo's dwarves wore in The Battle of the Five Armies. Do you think so, Merry?” Pippin put his hands on the bucket and pulled.

‘It might be, but I imagine that the dwarves could see out a bit better,” Merry grinned, as Pippin continued to pulled on the bucket.

Suddenly the youngster began to squirm about and pull at the bucket in a panicked sort of way. “Merry! Help! It’s stuck!” Pippin’s voice sounded frantic.

Merry frowned. “Hold still, you little goof,” Merry said, taking hold of the bucket. “I’ll get it off.” Pippin stopped squirming and Merry began to pull but nothing was happening. Well, almost nothing.

“Ouch! Merry it hurts,” Pippin wailed. “Get me out of here! It’s not funny now.”

"What have you done?” Pervinca said, glaring at Merry. “Get him out of there now! Pearl will kill us.” She glared at Merry as Pippin began to cry from underneath the bucket. His entire head was covered by the bucket and it looked as if it might be resting on his shoulders. It didn’t look stuck at all, but it was.

“Don’t’ sit there yelling at me, then,” Merry said. “Help me get this off of him.” He stood up and pulled Pippin to his feet. “It’s all right, Pip. Don’t cry. Pervinca and I will get you out.”

“Why is it always me?” Merry moaned and then looked at Pervinca. “Put your arms around his waist and hold tight. I’m going to pull on the bucket. Don’t let go of him, do you hear?”

“I know how to follow instructions, Merry,” Pervinca said, wrapping her arms around her little brother. “You just get this thing off of him before Pearl finds out.”

“Hold him still,” Merry said and then he took hold of the bucket. “Now, just relax, Pip. I’m going to pull on the bucket and I’m sure it will just pop off.” He leaned back and began to pull.

“Ouch!” Pippin squalled. “Merry it hurts! Ouch!” Fearing he might be doing more harm than good, Merry let go a bit too suddenly and Pippin fell back onto a startled Pervinca.

“You told me to hold on tight and then you let go?” Pervinca objected, now sitting on the barn floor with Pippin in her lap. “You are making a mess of this entire thing!”

Pippin took his small fists and hit the bucket hard which he regretted after he’d done so. “Get me out!”

Merry was at a complete loss at this point. He bent down in front of Pippin and took hold of the lad’s hands. “Now, don’t worry Pippin. I’ll think of something. Just stay calm.”

“Think of something soon, Merry, please?” Pippin said. “I don’t like this very much and my head hurts. It’s hard to hear things too. Except for Vince because she’s loud.”

Pervinca made a face at Pippin before realizing that her little brother could not currently see her. “Well?” She looked at Merry.

“We might be able to twist it off,” Merry said, hopefully. “It might just sort of need to be moved about a bit.” He put his hands on the bucket and addressed Pervinca again. “Hold him still.”

“Yes, why don’t I? That went so well the last time,” Pervinca said, taking hold of Pippin’s shoulders.

“It’s going to be fine, Pippin,” Pervinca said, gently, rubbing his shoulders. “Merry will get you out. You just sit still.”

“This feels silly,” Pippin said, mournfully as Merry began to twist the bucket slightly.

“Try to hold your head still, Pip and I’ll try to turn the bucket a bit and get you loose,” Merry instructed.

Pervinca’s eyes were wide with panic and she whispered, “Merry what are we going to do? We have to get him out of this.”

“What’s happening? Merry, are you thinking of something?” Pippin asked, sounding as nervous as Pervinca looked. Merry suddenly wished for someone older than himself that he could turn to for help. He wished Frodo were here. He had no idea what he should do but both of his younger cousins were counting on him.

“Pip, we’re going in the house and get Pearl," Merry said. “She’ll know what to do.”

“Merry you’ve lost your mind!” Pervinca said. “Pearl will be angry. She’ll yell at us something fierce for this!”

“Do you have another idea?” Merry asked. “Because if you do, I’d love to hear it, Pervinca Took. Tell me, how do we get this bucket off of Peregrin’s head?” Merry was yelling too now. “We can’t pull it off and we can’t twist it off. What do you suggest? He can’t continue to wear it!”

“I don’t wanna wear it!” Pippin howled and began to sob. “I want Pearl!”

Pervinca made a face and began to rub Pippin’s back. “All right, Pippin, take it easy.”

“I don’t care if she yells at you. I want this off,” Pippin said. “It’s hot in this old bucket!”

“Come on, Pip,” Merry said, and he gently picked the lad up in his arms. “I’m going to carry you back to the smial because I don’t think you should try to walk with that thing on your head.”

Pervinca got to her feet and followed Merry, dreading what Pearl might say about this mess.

Pippin wrapped his arms around Merry and hung on as they walked out into the rain. “Merry it sounds funny when the rain hits my bucket!” Pippin suddenly crowed. “It’s like the noise it makes when water hits pots!”

Merry couldn’t help but laugh at this. He replied loudly so that Pippin could hear him, “I bet the dwarves heard that noise every time it rained when they had their helmets on.”

“I don’t know how they heard anything!” Pippin yelled as if everyone else were wearing buckets in the rain.

Pervinca poked a finger into her ear and wiggled it. “Not so loud, Pippin. We can hear you.”

The three of them made quite a sight entering the kitchen. All of them were dripping wet and Pippin still had his head inside of the bucket. As they entered, Nell’s mouth fell open. “What in all of the Shire are you three doing now?”

“I thought I told you lot to play in the barn until the rain stopped,” Pearl said, sternly. ‘Now you’ve tracked rain all in the kitchen! And take that silly bucket off of your head, Peregrin Took!”

“It was all Merry’s fault, Pearl,” Pervinca said. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Pearl,” Pippin whined. “I did it my own self! Please get it off! My ears hurt!”

Pearl sighed. “It’s all right, dearest.” She then looked at Merry. Sit him on the table and hold him still. “It’s going to be just fine, Pippin.”

“Everyone keeps saying that and I’m still not out of this!” Pippin said as Merry sat him on the table.

"What are you going to do, Pearl?” Nell asked, reaching over and touching the bucket as if to convince herself that it was really there.

“Pervinca, you’re already wet,” Pearl observed. “Go out to Papa’s little storage shed and get that grease that he uses on the wagon wheels.”

“Pervinca Took!” Pearl yelled and the younger lass turned and hurried out into the rain. Pervinca would much rather face the storm outside than one of Pearl’s storms.

"Doing what, darling?” Pearl asked, rubbing Pippin’s knee to try and sooth him.

Pervinca soon returned even wetter and in a worse mood. How that was possible, Merry wasn’t at all sure, but Pervinca had managed it. “Here,” Pervinca said, sitting the container of grease down next to Pippin. “I hope you all will be very happy when I catch a terrible cold!”

“What are you doing?” Pippin asked, unable to see. He patted his hand around and proceeded to put it into the grease. “What's that stuff?”

“Pippin!” Pearl and Merry both yelled as Pippin’s hand came out of the container and hit Merry in the chest, smearing him with the nasty-looking brown goo.

“I love this shirt!” Merry moaned. “I don’t think this will ever come out!”

Pearl glared at Merry and then leaned over and yelled at Pippin. “I’m getting you out, love. Don’t’ cry. Merry wasn’t talking about your head. He spilled grease on his shirt is all. He doesn’t think that the stain will come out.”

“Of course you aren’t, “Merry said, and he looked at his damaged shirt. I spilled grease on it?

“Lean you head forward, Pip and hold still while I get you out,” Pearl said, confidently. Everyone admired that about Pearl. She was always so sure of everything. They all watched as she stuck her hand in the grease and then put her hand into Pippin’s bucket and began to slather the grease about as best she could. She managed to get it on as much of the lower part of the bucket as she could reach and by leaning Pippin’s head nearly upside down, she managed to let the grease run down into the bucket next to the sides of Pippin’s head.

“I know, love, but it won’t be long now,” Pearl said, and continued to put more grease into the bucket. “Hold him still, Merry.”

Pearl slowly began to twist on the bucket which allowed the grease to slide around and coat more of the insides. She then wiped her hand on her apron, which shocked Merry, as she was now coated with the foul grease, and then got a firm grip on the bucket and began to twist a bit and pull at the same time. Suddenly there was a popping noise and Pearl and then bucket went flying back onto the floor.

Pippin’s head was, once again, visible. The little hobbit was red in the face from the lack of cool air inside of the bucket and from crying and his hair was matted with the grease, but he looked unharmed. “I’m out!” He yelled in relief. “Where’s Pearl?” He frowned, looking about the kitchen for his rescuer.

“What are you doing down there, Pearl?” Pippin asked, as the other three tried hard not to laugh.

“When your bucket slipped off, I slipped with it,’ Pearl said, coming over and putting a finger under Pippin chin. She stared at him, critically and checked him for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” Pippin said. “I’m glad that nasty old bucket is off.”

Pippin propelled himself into her arms finishing the job of ruining her clothing with the grease. “Oh, Pearl, you saved me! Merry and Pervinca were useless!”

“You lot clean up this kitchen and Merry, you and Pervinca get some dry clothes on while I get this mess out of Peregrin’s hair,” Pearl ordered. “Keep a close eye on both of them, Nell. As we have just been informed, they are both useless.” With that, she walked out of the kitchen with Pippin in her arms.

“I can walk on my hands, Pearl,” Merry heard Pippin saying. “Wanna see me do it later?”

“Here kitty,” Pippin said, bending down and peering under a large bush. “Here kitty, kitty, cat.”

Frodo shrugged. “I can’t seem to convince him that there isn’t a kitten in those bushes. He keeps going over there, bending down and calling for it. I think it’s a game.” Frodo smiled at Merry who had just come out of the Bag End kitchen with a bit of jam from his lunch still on his face. Frodo had finished eating first and had volunteered to take a rather fussy Pippin out into the garden to run off some energy.

Pippin enjoyed his meals like all hobbits, but he simply couldn’t sit still any longer than was necessary. The active three-year-old had wanted to go out the minute he’d filled up his corners. In order to allow the older folks and Merry to finish their lunches, Frodo had taken the little scamp outside. “He’s been doing that for some time now.”

“Could there be a kitten in those bushes?” Merry asked, brushing crumbs off of his shirt and looking over at the little lad who had squatted next to a large clump of bushes and was wiggling his fingers at the bushes and calling a cat.

“No, we don’t have a cat, Merry,” Frodo said. “I have no idea what he thinks is in there.” Frodo chuckled and watched Pippin waving at the bush. The tiny hobbit was persistant, but he’d been no trouble at all to watch. He hardly moved from his spot near the bushes. Once in a while he would grin over at Frodo and point to the bushes and then he would began to call the kitty again.

Merry didn’t seem to be amused by it. He moved a bit closer to the small hobbit lad and said, “What are you doing, Pip Squeak?’

Pippin turned to Merry and grinned, sitting down on his bottom in the grass and stretching out his legs in front of him. “Merry, get the kitty,” Pippin instructed and pointed to the bush.

“Come here, Pip,” Merry said. “Frodo says there isn’t any cat in those bushes. Come over here before you find something like poison ivy.”

“Kitty cat!” Pippin crowed and wiggled his little toes. He then turned his attention back to his search for the elusive cat. “Ki-tee, here cat!”

“Bite your tongue, Merry,” Frodo said. “If the Gaffer heard anyone say we had poison ivy in our garden after all of his hard work, he’d bust a seam for sure.”

“I think there’s something in there, Frodo,” Merry said, nervously. “Did you look for Pip’s kitty?” He watched the three-year-old lean closer to the bush and giggle.

“No, Merry,” Frodo said. “If there were a cat in those bushes, I’m am very sure that it would have come out by now. At least he’s entertained. There is nothing wrong with allowing little ones to play at pretend. I don’t see why everyone says that Peregrin is such a handful. I’ve had no trouble with him at all.”

Frodo was obviously very satisfied with his child-minding skills at this moment and Merry hated to disappoint his older cousin, but he was very sure that Pippin was about to get into something. “Maybe one of us should look for Pip's kitty,” Merry said. “You know, just to make sure that he isn’t trying to coax a snake out of there or something?”

Frodo laughed. “Fine Master Brandybuck, you get Pippin and I shall look for the kitty.”

Merry walked over and scooped up his tiny cousin who began to squirm and wail at the top of his lungs. “Down! Down! Go get Kitty! Pergun’s kitty! Down Merry!”

“This is a lovely idea, Meriadoc,” Frodo grumbled as he crawled to the bush on his hands and knees to peer under it. “I hope this eases your mind because it’s causing quite a stir for no reason.” He continued to poke around under the bush.

“My kitty!” Pippin yowled. “I get my kitty!” He struggled to free himself from Merry’s grip and kicked his tiny feet against Merry’s chest. “Down, Merry! Bobo come get my kitty!” Now Pippin was calling from Bilbo to come to his aide. Pippin loved his cousin Bilbo but, as yet, was unable to say his older relative’s name and so much to Merry and Frodo’s amusement, Pippin called him Bobo. “Help, Bobo! Fro is taking my kitty! Bobo!”

“Why does everyone think I can do something?” Merry demanded. “This little pest is not mine you know.” Merry continued to hold fast to the wiggling child.

‘No, but you seemed to be the one who was worried about this k-“ Frodo stopped speaking and began to back up slowly. Very slowly.

“Now, Meriadoc,” Frodo hissed. “I’ve found Pippin’s cat and it’s a-“ there was a hissing sound and Frodo groaned and began whipping his eyes. “Skunk.” He said, sickly.

“Eeew that smells awful, Frodo,” Merry said, backing up. “Did it get on you?”

“Yes, Merry and since it was your idea that I crawl under those bushes looking for that kitty, I suggest that you take that child and go into the smial now, before I decide to give you a great big hug!” Frodo was sitting on the grass making a terrible face.

“Kitty?” Pippin chirped, still reaching in Frodo’s direction. “Pooh! Kitty go pooh?”

“Get Bobo, Merry,” Frodo sighed. “Tell him that Pippin’s kitty has sprayed his favorite cousin and we may need a great deal of water out here.”

Giggling, Merry backed toward the door with Pippin in his arms. The little hobbit was holding his nose and crowing, “Pooh! Pooh! Pooh!”

Pippin was running after Merry again. “Merry, where are you going?” Pippin called as he pursued his older cousin. “Can I come? I’ll be good.”

“Go back to the smial and play with the little lads, Pippin,” Merry said. Merry sounded a bit funny because he was bent over and pushing some sort of cart. He had a fair head start on Pippin but the lad was still determined to catch up.

Merry stopped then and turned to face his little cousin. “I said, go back to the smial, Pip Squeak. This is something for older lads and you’ll just be in the way.”

Pippin bit his lower lip and looked up at Merry trying to determine if Merry might still be won over. It did not look encouraging, but Pippin still had to try. “I won’t be in the way, Merry. I just want to watch. You won’t even know I’m there,” he assured his older cousin.

“I am not arguing this with you. You go back now,” Merry said, pointing toward the small area of grass where several little hobbits were playing. “You are not allowed to be this far away from the smail. If you don’t go back, I’ll take you back myself and give you to mum. She’ll keep you inside the rest of the afternoon.” Merry’s voice was firm and his eyes were narrowed in that way that meant that he was serious.

Pippin hung his head. “I wanted to see you ride the cart.” He dug a toe into the dirt and looked up at Merry through his bangs. “Please?’ he said, softly.

Pippin backed up and sat down hard on his backside. “I’ll go my own self, Merry. Don’t tell.”

Merry looked down at him as if considering this and then said, “Fine, but you go back now and stay there.”

Pippin nodded and got to his feet. He started slowly for the smail with his head down. Merry watched to make sure that Pippin wouldn’t follow him and then turned and resumed pushing the cart toward the hill. Behind him, Pippin turned and watched Merry go out of sight, pushing the small, wooden cart.

Pippin had watched Merry build it for two whole weeks now. He had handed Merry stuff like nails and hammers and had held tight to boards while Merry hammered them together. It wasn’t fair that he didn’t get to watch. He had even helped paint it. True, he had spilt the paint and had gotten some of it on his shirt and trousers and a bit in his hair, but he had helped paint it. That should count for something, shouldn’t it?

Pippin didn’t want to play with the other children. He wanted to go with Merry. Merry and the older lads did such interesting things and had such fun. The children never left the front of the smail and they didn’t do much of anything. Right now they were playing at building a fort and it was a dumb old fort. They were doing it all wrong. It didn’t look like the forts that Merry had showed him how to build. Pippin frowned over his shoulder at the fort and at his cousins and then decided. He didn’t care if he had to spend the entire week in the smial with his aunt. He was going to see Merry ride the cart! He began to work his way up the hill quietly. He'd sneak up on the older lads and watch. Maybe he wouldn’t even get caught.

“I did,” Merry told his older cousin, proudly. “I used the horse cart to go by and I tried to make it look like that. Well, only smaller.” Merry was very pleased with his handiwork. The cart had turned out very well indeed in spite of Pippin’s help. That little lad had been into everything, but there’d been no getting rid of him. Pippin had dropped a hammer on Merry’s foot, spilled out the nails, gotten paint all over himself, and once Merry had smashed one of Pippin’s little thumbs with the hammer. Pippin had moved suddenly and his thumb had wound up in the way. Pippin was always in the way!

“I don’t know, Merry,” Fredegar frowned. “I don’t think it’s safe.”

“Of course it’s safe, “ Merry objected, insulted. “I built it myself.”

“Exactly my problem with it,” Falco grinned. “I don’t think I’ll be risking my life riding in that.”

“I don’t trust this cart of yours to stay in one piece, so yes, if that makes me a coward, then I am a coward with a capital C,” Falco said and the other lads laughed.

“How do you steer it anyway?” Theo asked, bending down and looking at the wheels on the cart. "I mean, what if it starts heading for a tree or something?”

Merry sighed, “I have that all planned out. It has a tongue like a wagon and you hold onto this and steer it.” Merry showed him the handle that came out of the bottom of the cart and was attached to the axle and the front wheels. “All you do is you hold this and you turn in the direction that you mean to go. Look how it moves the wheels.” Merry demonstrated.

“Well, that looks like it might work,” Theo admitted. “It does seem to be turning the wheels.”

“Of course it works!” Merry said, exasperated. He hated having his skills questioned. He was very good at this sort of thing. He’d watched his father build things and somehow, in a way that he couldn’t quite explain, he just knew how things should be built by thinking them out. This cart was no exception. He could see how it would work in his head and all he’d had to do was build it.

“I don’t think it will work,” Falco said. “I think this sort of thing needs to be built by someone much older than you, Merry.”

“I’m fourteen! I know what I’m doing!” Merry objected. “I’d be willing to bet that this cart will hold two hobbits and ride them all the way down this hill safely.

“I can assure you that it won’t hold me,” Falco laughed. “I will be safely up here watching you crash into a tree or flip upside down.”

Merry glared at the older lad. “Well, I’ll just have to give Theo a ride first, then.” He looked over at his cousin Theo and smiled as if offering the lad a great honor.

Theo was not in the least bit honored. “Not me! I’m not getting in that thing.”

Merry sighed, “Then how about you and me, Freddy?” Merry looked at his last hope. The cart was a bit small to be holding both himself and Freddy, but they could squeeze into it if need be.

“Merry, I think you might be better off to test it from a smaller hill first,” Fredegar suggested. “You know, see if it steers like you think it will?”

“I know it steers like I think it will!” Merry said, indignantly. “I built it!”

“I think I’ve said it,” Falco returned. “I don’t think you have any idea what you’re doing.”

“He does too have ideas!” Pippin shouted, coming out of his hiding place behind them. He’d been going to watch from over in the trees, but this was too much! Falco couldn’t insult Merry like that. “He has ideas all the time and this is one of the good ones!” Pippin stormed over and was looking up at Falco with furry in his green eyes.

“Well, that makes me feel ever so much better, Merry,’ Theo said. "Now, I have the word of this little squirt to reassure me.”

“I just wanted to watch the cart go down the hill,” Pippin said, realizing that Merry was less than pleased with his defense.

“I’ve an idea,” Theo said. “If it’s so safe then why don’t you let the squirt ride it down the hill?”

The older lads laughed and Fredegar bent down and looked at Pippin. “Aren’t you supposed to be down where Merry’s mum can watch you?”

“I’ll bet she doesn’t know where you are,” Theo said. “You little pest, you.”

“Leave him alone, Theo,” Merry warned. “Go on back down the hill, Pip.” He took Pippin by the braces and pulled him back from the older lads. “Go on.”

“I’m not a pest,” Pippin said. “Can’t I watch since I’m already here, Merry?”

“I think you should let him ride,” Theo said, repeating his earlier suggestion.

“That’s not a very good idea, Theo,” Fredegar warned. “Pippin’s too small to ride down this hill.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Theo said. “The little pest would probably be scared anyway. Besides that wagon will never make it down the hill in one piece.” He looked over at Merry challengingly.

“I’m not afeart!” Pippin said and started toward Theo, but Merry hauled him back.

“Well, the cart is finished, is it?” another voice declared. Merry looked over to see his cousin Garret come into view now. “Bet that holds together for all of ten seconds after it leaves this spot.”

Pippin tried to pull free of Merry’s grip. “It’s the bestest cart you’ve ever seen!”

“Bring your shadow along for support?” Garret asked Merry and he reached over and mussed Pippin’s hair roughly. Pippin swung his tiny foot at him and missed.

“So far, there’s been nothing to watch,” Theo said. “I don’t think you’ve got the nerve to ride it.”

Garret looked at the cart and then at Merry. “Well, is he right? Built this and then lost your nerve?”

"No, I’ll show all of you,” Merry said. “I’ll ride it down the hill myself.”

Fredegar looked down the long expanse of the hillside and then at the small, red, cart. “Merry, I don’t think this is a very safe idea. Why don’t we all go back down the hill now?”

“No,” Merry said and then proceeded to shove Pippin over to Fredegar. “You watch Pip for me. I’m taking this cart down the hill.”

“Now, this will be interesting,” Garrett smiled. “I just love a good crash.” Theo grinned in agreement while Pippin tried to get away from Fredegar.

“Lad’s crazy to want to ride all the way down this hill in that thing,” Theo said, wonderingly.

Pippin stopped struggling and then said, “Can we stand over by the edge so we can see the bottom?” He looked up at Fredegar. “I want to see Merry and the cart go down the hill all the way to the bottom.”

“I suppose so,” Fredegar said, loosening his grip on the child and turning his attention to Merry. “Are you sure about this?” Freddy was worried. Merry saw this as a matter of pride, but Fredegar was afraid that his younger cousin might be injured badly by this.

Falco saw the seriousness of it also. “Freddy’s right , Merry. Let’s just forget this whole thing, all right?”

“Stand back or I’ll run you down as I go," Merry said, and he started pushing the cart toward the edge of the hill. Near the path that led down the hillside, Pippin waited for his chance. As Fredegar and Falco watched and worried, Merry began to pick up speed. Garrett and Theo were watching also, both hoping to see Merry’s cart fly apart. As the cart neared the edge of the hill, Merry jumped into it and felt someone land behind him. He grabbed the stick that steered the cart as it started over the edge and felt two small arms go around his neck.

“I’ll kill you if we live through this,” Merry said, knowing that Pippin was behind him in the cart. “Hang on tight and don’t do anything else stupid!”

Pippin tightened his grip and watched in fascination as the trees appeared to zip past them while the cart picked up speed. “It works good, Merry!”

Merry struggled to breath as he steered the cart between the trees and tried to keep it on the path. Pippin was holding on far too tight but Merry didn’t have time to tell him this. He had to keep his mind on the business of steering. Besides he could feel Pippin’s light little body nearly bouncing out of the cart with each bump that they hit. It was best that Pippin hang on as the little hobbit would likely be jarred from the cart if he didn’t. “Hang on, Pip!”

“I am!” Pippin yelled back as they came nearer to the bottom of the hill. The wind was blowing all about his face and he was being bounced about in the cart. The only thing keeping him from flying out, was his hold on Merry’s neck. This was wonderful! “We’re flying!”

In spite of his little’s cousin’s reckless behavior, Merry laughed. “I know!” He steered them dangerously close to a tree and they narrowly missed several logs. The cart reached the bottom of the hill and continued to fly down the path toward the smial with amazing speed.

Merry’s eyes widened. He had not planned this at all. It had only occurred to him that he needed to be able to steer this thing, not stop it. He and Pippin were now hurtling toward the smial and he had no idea how they would stop. In front of him several of the little hobbits that he’d suggested that Pippin should play with ran for safety as the cart neared them. “Duck, Pip, we’re going to hit the fort!” The fort would slow them down. He’d run the cart into the collection of chairs and blankets that the little ones were using as a fort and it would slow the cart.

“This is great!” Pippin crowed and peered over Merry’s shoulder rather than ducking. Merry had a split second to wonder how he’d ever thought that this fearless imp could play with the little ones and then they crashed into the fort at full force.

The cart had run under a blanket before striking several of the chairs and turning on its side, dumping them onto the grass, hard. Merry rolled into another chair and felt the skin being scraped from both of his elbows as he came to a stop. Dizzy, but alive, Merry looked around the ruins of the fort for Pippin and caught sight of his little cousin climbing out from underneath one of the blankets, giggling. “That was great! Can we do it again, Merry?”

“I don’t know, Pip,” Merry said, admiring the lad’s nerve. “Maybe after I work on it a bit and give it a way to stop properly.”

Pippin scratched his head and frowned. “Won’t running into the fort again work?”

“I’m going out with the lads now,” Merry shouted as he ran through the kitchen of Brandy Hall.

“Merry, you stay near the smial and away from the river,” his mum instructed.

“I will, mum,” Merry assured her. “We’re just going to play hide ‘n’ seek and maybe a bit of ball or something. The eleven-year-old stood still while his mother checked over his clothes and gave him her orders. He was anxious to be outside with his mates, but he knew better than to push his mum on this.

Esmeralda Brandybuck smiled down at her son. He was getting so big. He’d had to have all new things this summer as all of his trousers were too short and a bit too snug in the waist. She ran her hand through his honey blond curls and smiled. “I’ll want you back in time for supper.”

“I’m always on time for supper,” Merry said and this was very true. Eleven-year-old hobbits did not enjoy missing meals. As Merry turned to leave with his mum’s blessing, he felt something holding onto his right leg. He looked down and there, with both arms holding onto his trousers, was his little cousin. “Let go, I’m going out now,” Merry instructed. “Where’s your sister?”

The small, three-year-old hobbit released his grip on his older cousin’s leg and sat down on the kitchen floor. The act of letting go had cost him his balance. “Ow, fall down.”

Merry bent down and looked the little hobbit in the eye. “Go find Pearl and be good. I’m going out now.”

The back door swung open and a hobbit lad poked his head in the opening. “You coming, Merry?”

Behind him he heard a faint sniffle and the sound of his small cousin getting to his feet. “Mer go now?”

“Come over here with me, little one,” Esmeralda said, calling the little child as Merry continued toward the door.

“Go wit Mer,” the little voice chirped and little feet pattered across the kitchen floor after Merry who was almost to the back door.

Merry stopped, turned and looked down at the small lad who was closing the gap between them. “Wait, Mer. I go too,” the child said, reaching small arms out toward his older cousin as he ran.

“Peregrin, no,” Esmeralda said, gently as she started over to get the child.

“Pergun go wit Mer,” the child answered and then proceeded to fall flat on the floor. He sniffled once and began to raise himself up.

Merry sighed and picked up the child who clung to him tightly and chattered, “Pergun go too Mer. Go play. Out!”

Merry looked at the little face and sighed. “You’re too little to go with me. You have to say here with Pearl and mum. Now, be good.”

“You are not going, but I am, so now I am going to give you to mum,“ Merry said and began to try to peel his little cousin off of him. The child held fast but Merry managed to remove him and stretch him out to his mother. “Do something with him,” Merry said.

“Don’t worry, I have him,” Esmeralda smiled, holding the small, wriggling hobbit in her arms. The child struggled to get down. “Mer?” the child whimpered.

Merry sighed, “I might play with you when I get back.” He reached over and tickled the small lad. He then turned and charged out of the door.

Esmeralda sighed and walked over to the back door which Merry had left ajar. She held the child with one hand and closed the door with the other. “He’ll be back for supper, Peregrin. You can see him then.”

“Not until you’re older, little dear,” Esmeralda smiled and she sat the child down on his tiny feet. Before she could hardly react, the child ran to the door and began reaching for the door knob. She sighed and followed him. “You are very stubborn aren’t you?” She reached down and lifted the little lad into her arms again. She knew that he couldn’t reach the door knob but she didn’t want him to stand so close to the door. If someone came in, the little one would be knocked to the floor. Merry and his friends often ran in and out without warning.

“Yes, Merry went out to play, but where did Pearl go without telling me?’ Esmeralda asked.

“Oh, well, that’s different. I thought she went out,” Esmeralda said, kissing the small lad’s forehead.

He giggled and made a kissing sound back at his aunt. “Mer go out?” The little frown had returned and he was squirming to look at the door.

Esmeralda laughed gently and stroked the child’s curls. “This is going to be a problem isn’t it?”

More Hobbits! Pippin is 13, Merry is 21, Sam is 23 and Frodo is annoyed. Hehehe.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“No, I can shoot further than this. Have lots of times. This is perfect. Can you see me?”

“Oh, well, I guess that would help, wouldn’t it? You suppose anyone can see me from across the way?”

“No, and they won’t be looking in the tree for you anyway. At least, they won’t be, if you do this right. You sure you can-“

Merry watched from the bushes beneath the tree as Pippin readied himself, taking aim at the bright, green door across the way with Merry’s sling-shot and then...

Frodo turned the page and took a long sip of his tea. If there was anything more relaxing than sitting by a nice fire with a cup of tea and a good book then he wasn’t aware of it. Sam entered the room and sat a tray of freshly baked scones on the table next to him. “That must be a very interesting book to keep you indoors on such a lovely day as this,” Sam remarked with a smile.

“Oh, I am enjoying the quiet, Sam and those scones are the finishing touch to a lovely afternoon of reading and relaxing,” Frodo answered, not looking up from his book. By instinct, his hand found a warm scone and plucked it from the dish.

Sam grinned, “Well, I’d rather be enjoyin’ some time in the garden myself.”

“Then you should, Sam,” Frodo said. “You’ve done more than enough in here today. Why don’t you go out and enjoy the day. I will be fine.”

“I don’t like to leave you alone when there’s work to be done,” Sam objected. “Why I haven’t finished with the-“ He was interrupted by a rather loud, sharp, rap on the front door.

Frodo sighed, “I was not hoping for company today, Sam. Be very still and maybe whoever it is will go away.” The two of them remained motionless for a minute, both looking at the door. The curtains in the front parlor were drawn over the windows so no one could see them. There was always a chance that the unwanted company would give up. Another loud rap told them that this was not happening. “Want me to get it and say you’re busy?” Sam asked in a whisper as a third rap sounded.

Frodo frowned and rose from his chair. “I am busy. Yes, Sam if you would. I’ll just step out of sight and wait. Thump! “Persistent, aren’t they?” Frodo moved off out of sight and Sam went to the door.

“Pip, hold still and don’t shoot, someone’s opening the door,” Merry hissed crouching down in the bushes and out of sight.

Pippin snickered and lay still on his perch watching Frodo’s front door swing open. “Merry, it’s Sam,” Pippin whispered.

Pippin giggled also. “He’s stepped out on the stoop and he’s looking all around. He’s scratching his head now. He’s looking over and up the road. Now he’s looking down the road. He’s scratching his head again.”

“He’s going back inside. This is one of your best ideas, Merry,” Pippin said, leaning over and looking down at Merry.

“Don’t do that, Pip,” Merry said, between giggles. “You’ll fall on your noggin’.”

“I guess whoever it was gave up and went on,” Sam said, shutting the door behind him and smiling at Frodo.

Frodo moved back toward his favorite chair with relief. “A very good thing, Sam. I thought that a perfect day of rest and reading was about to be spoiled by a long visit with unwanted company.” He seated himself and took up his book again.

“Right odd, though,” Sam said, shaking his head. “I didn’t see nary a soul out there.”

“They must have thought I was out and left,” Frodo said, returning his attention to his book.

“Well, when they made up their mind to go, they made tracks in a right big hurry,” Sam grinned and started for the kitchen. Thump!

“I suspect so, as I was clean out on the stoop lookin’ for them,” Sam agreed. Thump! Thump!

“I guess you’d better go see what they want,” Frodo said, getting up again and going over to his hiding place. Thump!

Sam turned and went to the door again. He hated to see Mister Frodo’s day interrupted but yet it was a shame that Mister Frodo was spending the day cooped up in his smial. It was just too nice. Maybe whoever this was would suggest a nice walk. Mister Frodo didn’t get enough exercise these days.

“Sam again,” Pippin snorted. “He’s out on the stoop again and this time his shrugging his shoulders.”

“There he goes. He’s scratching his head now, Merry,” Pippin giggled, trying to hold onto the branch and the sling-shot while shaking with laughter.

“Not so loud, Pip,” Merry smirked. “He might hear you. What’s he doing now?”

“Oh, Merry, you have to see,” Pippin said. “He’s off the stoop and looking round the side of the smial. He’s got his hand up to his eyes trying to sight something. I might could shoot him in the arse from here.”

“Pippin, no,” Merry hissed, laughing. “Don’t you dare. Frodo would kill us.”

“No, Pip and I mean it,” Merry hissed, tossing a pebble up at his younger cousin and hitting him on the arm.

“Doesn’t matter now,” Pippin sighed, disappointed. “He’s on his way back inside again. “Would have been very funny.”

“Well?” Frodo asked, coming into the room again as Sam closed the door. “Who was it?”

“I’ll be darned if I know, Mister Frodo, sir,” Sam frowned. “I can’t find anyone and I looked all around.”

Frodo scowled. “That’s odd, but I can’t say that I’m disappointed. Maybe now they’ve finally gone.” He sat down and picked up the scone which was now slightly cooler. Pity. They were so much better warm, but then, Sam’s scones were a treat even cold.

Shaking his head, Sam went into the kitchen to clean up his cooking mess leaving Frodo to his scones and his book. He just didn’t understand how he could have missed their unwelcome visitor a second time.

“Will you keep still? It’s my turn now and I’ll do this my way. You had your turn.” Merry leaned forward and took aim through an opening in his hiding place while Pippin shifted about restlessly in the tree above him. “Now, watch and learn, my lad.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Frodo spun about in his chair with a full mouth of scone and glared at his front door. This was just too much. “Can’t a poor hobbit read in peace?” He sighed and looked in the direction of his kitchen. He hadn’t heard Sam for a few minutes so he supposed that his young friend had taken his advice and gone for a walk in the garden.

Thump! Thump! Thump! What to do? Should he give up and open the door? He was loath to but he did suppose that it might be important. Whoever it was had been persistent. He sighed. Thump!

“Great shooting, Merry,” Pippin said. “Oh, here comes someone. It’s Frodo this time.”

“I can see him,” Merry whispered. “I’m looking through the bushes now.” Merry snorted as he caught sight of Frodo on the stoop of Bag End. “This is so great.”

“He’s looking about. Now, he’s got his hands on his hips and he’s frowning.” Pippin giggled so much he shook the tree limb slightly.
“Pip, take it easy. You’re going to give us away,” Merry snickered. “Look, now he’s calling for Sam.”

“I reckon that he might be right behind you,” Sam’s voice answered as he put his foot gently but firmly in the center of Merry’s back, holding him to the ground.

Pippin squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. “Merry, you said that no one could see us over here,” Pippin hissed in an accusing tone, leaning over his branch and looking at Merry who was trapped beneath Sam’s foot.

“Well, if you hadn’t been so loud, no one would have seen us,” Merry grumbled.

“Well, I just got to thinking on how odd it was that I couldn’t see no one before and so I went out of the kitchen door and waited out back. Then when I heard the knocking start up again, I just poked my head around the side of the smial and seen the pebbles,” Sam said. “I just took note o’ where they was comin’ from and then slipped around behind you is all.”

Pippin grinned at him from his branch. “That was very clever, Sam. Wasn’t that clever, Merry?’

“Brilliant,” Merry growled. “Now, will you please get your foot off of me?”

Sam smiled and slid his foot off of Merry’s back. Across the way, Frodo had given up and gone back inside of Bag End. “What are you going to do, Sam? Are you going to give us away to Frodo?” Merry asked, raising up on an elbow.

“Well, I should as this is a right sneaky little trick that you’re pullin,” Sam said.

“Now, Sam, we aren’t hurting anyone,” Merry objected. “It’s just a bit of fun.”

Merry sighed. Why didn’t Pippin ever know when to hush? “Never mind that, Pip. Sam doesn’t want to hear about that, do you, Sam,” Merry said, standing and putting an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “I’ll wager that Sam wants a turn at shooting.”

Pippin’s face split into a wide grin. “That would be great, Sam! Do you think you can hit the door from here?”

“I ain’t gonna try, Mister Pippin and neither are you,” Sam said, sternly. “Mister Frodo is trying to read.”

“Frodo is always trying to read, Sam,” Merry said, exasperated. “But of course, if you don’t think you can hit the door from here then that’s all right. It takes practice after all and Pip and I wouldn’t want you to try it if you don’t feel up to it.” Merry winked at Pippin from behind Sam’s line of sight and hoped that his little cousin would get the hint.

“I had to practice ever so long,” Pippin said. “It isn’t easy to hit the door. I’m fair at it, but Merry’s better. You don’t have to try, Sam. Have you ever used a sling shot before?” Pippin leaned over the branch and looked at Sam quizzically while, behind him, Merry smiled and nodded at his little cousin. This was going well.

“Of course I have,” Sam said, a bit insulted. “My older brothers taught me when I weren’t no bigger than that.” Sam used his hand to illustrate how small he’d been at the time of his sling-shot shooting lessons.

“I suspect that I could,” Sam admitted. “But that’s not the point, Mister Pippin. Do your folks know what you’re doin’?” He looked sternly at Pippin who glared back at him.

“My folks don’t always have to know where I am,” Pippin said, sitting up on his branch. “I’m thirteen now and I can do things on my own. I don’t have to tell them everything.”

Sam snorted. “I should take that to mean that they don’t know a thing about your doings at the moment.”

“Look, if you can’t hit the door from here, just admit it,” Pippin said, letting go of the branch and folding his arms over his chest. “Maybe your older brothers weren’t as good at teaching things as Merry is.”

Thump! Thump! Thump! Frodo got up from the chair and stormed to the door. Someone was going to get a very long lecture about ruining other hobbit’s restful afternoons. He had suffered quite enough of this nonsense. Where was Sam?

He flung open the door and yelled, “Whoever you are, come out and show yourself!” That was all he managed to say before he was smacked soundly in the thigh by a pebble. Startled, he dropped to the stoop on his hands and knees and scanned the road in front of Bag End. Stars! Someone was shooting at him! In front of his own Smial!

“Oh! Now I ‘ve gone and done it,” Sam moaned as Pippin and Merry giggled wildly.

“See, Merry,” Pippin snickered. “I told you it would be funny if I had shot Sam in the arse!”

Merry was rolling on the ground laughing. “Great shot, Sam. You got his attention with that one!”

Sam was turning very pale and not at all amused. He sank to his knees next to Merry and moaned. “I’m gonna to catch it for this and no mistake. I deserve it.”

“Merry, I think he’s spied us,” Pippin said, suddenly from the tree and the three of them all looked in Frodo’s direction. Frodo was on his feet now and he had picked up a hand full of pebbles from the stoop and was walking in their direction, eyes blazing.

“Uh-oh, I think it’s time to make a run for it, Pip,” Merry advised crawling underneath the tree. Above him, Pippin let out a howl of pain.

“And I plan to hit you again, you little pest,” Frodo yelled as he approached them.

Wide-eyed with surprise at this new development, Pippin began to climb down from his branch, falling the last few feet and landing on his knees next to Sam who hadn’t moved since he’d hit Frodo.

“Peregrin Took! You are in for a real battle now,” Frodo shouted, lofting a group of pebbles in their direction, several of which hit Pippin on the backside.

“Run,” Merry yelled, gaining his feet and Pippin made an effort to join him, but Sam snagged him by the ankle and held fast.

When Frodo reached them, Pippin was trying to get away from Sam and Merry was standing just a few feet from them. He couldn’t run off and leave Pippin to face an angry Frodo all on his own.

Frodo glared at the Pippin and then at Merry then turned to Sam. “Good work, Sam. I see you’ve caught these tricksters. Now, which one of my dear, little cousins shot me in the leg as I stood on my own stoop?”

Pippin and Merry both looked at Sam and waited, miserably for what was coming. “Well?” Frodo asked.

Sam had been right. It was a fine day and far to nice to be indoors. Frodo settled back into his favorite cane-backed chair under the large shade tree in his yard and turned the page of his book. “Merry, bring me some more of that ale and I think I would enjoy another bowl of that stew that Sam fixed if it isn’t too much trouble to warm it up.” Frodo smiled. This was turning into a very fine afternoon.

He looked over toward his garden and gave Pippin a smile before turning back to his book. “Only the weeds, Peregrin or you’ll be in my garden all month helping to replant what you’ve pulled.”

Pippin looked up and sighed. He had been given garden chores as his part of the punishment and Sam was sweeping out the smial. Merry was on kitchen duty at the moment. He sighed again as Merry neared him on his way to give Frodo the requested stew and ale. “If Sam hadn’t got my ankle, we’d have gotten away, “Pippin hissed.

“I should have let you shoot him in the arse,” Merry whispered as he passed.

“I said, I hope you enjoy your stew, cousin,” Merry said, as Pippin looked down at the weeds to avoid notice.

"It’s not funny!" Pippin declared. "It isn’t coming off, Merry. What am I going to do?"

"It has to come off somehow," Pippin said, looking at himself in Frodo’s mirror. "It just has to!" Pippin put his face so close to the mirror that his nose was nearly touching the glass. His image stared back at him in all of its green splendor. Every inch of Pippin’s face was currently as green as grass and no amount of scrubbing had changed that. He raised his hand up and ran it through his curls in frustration and then turned to face Merry. "You have to think of something, Merry!"

"Now wait a minute, cousin," Merry objected, trying hard not to laugh at Pippin’s current predicament. "If you'll recall, this wasn’t entirely my doing."

"Well, you still have to help me, Merry," Pippin objected. "Look at me! I’m green!"

Frodo stuck his head in the door and sighed, "I am going to assume that you two haven’t had any luck getting that mess off Pippin yet." He was speaking to Merry who was still fighting his fit of laughter.

Merry pressed his lips together and shook his head not trusting himself to speak. Pippin glared at him from across the room. "Does it look like we’ve had any luck?" Pippin demanded turning his glare in Frodo's direction.

As Frodo looked back at Pippin, he bit his lower lip to keep from laughing. "No, it doesn’t look as if you've had any luck at all." He smiled and went over to put an arm around Pippin’s shoulders. "Oh, Pippin how do you manage these things?"

Pippin buried his green face in Frodo’s shoulder and moaned softly. "I didn’t mean for it to last. It was just supposed to be a joke. Merry and I just thought it would be funny. It was supposed to wash off when the joke was over."

Earlier that evening Frodo had prepared a perfectly dreadful stew for their evening meal. He had used a recipe that he had obtained from one of Bilbo’s old recipe boxes. The stew had sounded very good when Frodo had first read the ingrediants and he had been eager to try something new. He was missing Bilbo a great deal today as it was nearing their shared birthday. That was why Frodo had been going through Bilbo’s recipe box. He was doing a bit of reminiscing about the dear old hobbit and had decided to cheer himself up by making one of Bilbo’s special recipes. He came across one for stew and since he didn't recall every having had this particular stew, he decided to prepare it for a nice change from the usual fare.

Merry and Pippin were visiting him for a few days and he decided to try the recipe out on them. Both of his younger cousins had very hardy appetites. Frodo figured that serving them something new would be a treat for them. He always seemed to make their favorites when they came and never experimented very much.

Frodo was an average cook when it came to most dishes. He had a few specialties that others requested he make, but he was not exactly known for his cooking skills. Sam Gamgee, who lived on the row and did work for Frodo, often did the cooking. Because of this everyone was constantly teasing Frodo about his own skills in the kitchen. Naturally, when you compared Frodo’s cooking to Sam’s, it fell horribly short. Sam Gamgee was one of the best cooks in the Shire. This was a great compliment since hobbits tended to prize excellent cooking above all else. They were a folk who enjoyed eating.

Merry and Pippin dearly loved teasing Frodo about his cooking because it flustered their older cousin so much. That evening had been no exception. The stew had been terrible and neither of Frodo’s guests had held back in the slightest. Both had been more than willing to tell him exactly what they thought of his latest efforts.

"Oh, Frodo! What’s in this, this, whatever it is?" Merry had asked wrinkling up his nose. "Have you cooked us up some of your dirty laundry?"

Frodo glared at both of them and frowned. "It isn’t that bad. The two of you are entirely too picky." He raised a spoonful of the stew to his own lips and tasted it for the first time. He grimmaced as if in pain. It was that bad. In fact, he choked on it and his eyes watered as he swallowed.

Merry laughed. "Oh, well, from your reaction I can clearly see that it isn’t really that bad, Frodo. Although, I didn't realize that when you liked something you looked as if you might vomit. I've failed to notice that before."

Pippin smirked. "You’re turning green, Frodo. I think that stew is poisonous."

Frodo gulped down some water and frowned at Pippin. "It isn’t poisonous. This is one of Bilbo's recipies and I am quit certain that he did not have a recipe for poison in with his cooking selections! It is more likely that I have made a minor mistake on the ingredients."

"Minor?" Merry laughed. "This isn’t a minor mistake, Cousin. You are very lucky that we all aren’t sick about now. This so-called stew tastes like the stuff that the Gaffer uses to clean barn."

"I thought you said it tasted like dirty laundry," Frodo said, dryly, pushing his bowl away.

"It’s a bit of both I think," Pippin said, taking another spoonful of it and wrinkling his nose up. The lad looked as if he were trying to figure out what the ingredients were by tasting the vile concoction. "It’s a wee bit like something that’s gone over. Yes, that’s it. It’s completely rotten."

"Well, I was hoping that it might get better with a few more tastes," Pippin said, taking another spoonful. He swallowed it and then frowned. "Sadly, it doesn’t improve at all." He stuck out his tongue. "Just awful."

"I don’t suppose Sam is around just now is he?" Merry asked, teasingly. "We might be able to coax him into making something a bit more, what’s the word I want, Pip?"

"Tasty?" Pippin asked and then quickly added, "Edible, less noxious, less smelly, less likely to take the paint off the front door?"

Merry was laughing uncontrollably. Frodo sighed and grinned at Pippin. It was hard to stay mad at either of them, especially when they were right. "Sam isn’t here just now, Meriadoc."

"So we starve?" Pippin said, dramatically putting his face in his hands as if he might weep.

"Sam has left us to die of hunger right here in Bag End," Merry said, shaking his head and trying to look miserable.

"I can cook, you know," Frodo said, sternly. They looked at him with pity in their eyes and Frodo repeati++ed his declaration. "I can cook!"

Merry and Pippin exchanged knowing looks and then got up from the table. "Would you like us to help you, Frodo?" Merry asked.

Pippin took another bite of the stew and then said, "Yes, Frodo, you want us to help you?"

"No, thank you both but I do not need any help!" Frodo objected. "Now, why don't the two of you find something else to do while I make us another supper. I don’t want either of you in my way. I can cook fine on my own."

"But, Frodo," Merry objected, gently. "You made this." He pointed to the stew. As a sign of agreement Pippin stuck out his tongue.

"I am blaming this disaster on Bilbo," Frodo said. "It was his recipe and I am guessing that he simply copied it down incorrectly."

"I’d blame Bilbo too," Pippin said brightly. "He isn’t here to correct you so he is a very good choice for blame. Always try to place the blame on someone who isn't about to defend themselves. There are far fewer questions that way."

"Get out of my kitchen now," Frodo growled pointing to the back door. "Both of you!"

The two cousins hurried out, giggling as they went. The last thing that Frodo heard was Merry saying, "Pip I hope you don’t get sick. You ate far too much of that stew or whatever it was."

Now, Frodo was standing in his bedroom with his arms around a very green Pippin and looking over at Merry. "What exactly did you two decided to put on him?"

"It’s just something that we concocted while we were in the barn," Merry said with a shrug of his shoulders. "You see, we found a few things out there that we thought could be used to turn Pip green."

"Well, it was suppose to come off," Pippin said, looking up at Frodo, miserably.

"He gets so upset when we tease him about his cooking," Merry laughed as the two cousins entered the barn.

"That was so much fun," Pippin agreed. "That part about asking for Sam was inspired, Merry."

"That stuff was awful," Pippin said. "Do you suppose that if it were made properly it would be any good?"

"I doubt it. I think Frodo’s guess that Bilbo left something out of the recipe is close to the truth," Merry admitted. "You know how absent-minded Bilbo was at times. I imagine that he was writing that recipe down while thinking about something else and got it all mixed up. Maybe he left out something important or put in something extra that didn’t belong."

"I remember some things about Bilbo, but not so much as you and Frodo do," Pippin admitted looking slightly sad. "I was only eleven when he left."

"Yes, and that has been so long ago," Merry said, sarcastically, smiling at his seventeen-year-old cousin.

"I know," Pippin said, quite seriously and completely unaware that Merry was teasing him so Merry gave up the effort. He supposed it did seem like a long time ago to Pippin. Sometimes, it seemed like forever since he’d seen Bilbo Baggins. He found that he missed him very much, though not as much, he supposed, as Frodo did.

"What do you suppose Frodo will make now?" Pippin asked, his stomach rumbling a bit.

"I don’t know, but from the way you were managing, you might just as well have eaten the stew,’ Merry said. "How did you stand to take so many bites of it?"

"I was just teasing Frodo is all," Pippin grinned. "It was awful but no worse than some of the things I've had to take when I've been sick."

Merry laughed. "It would be funny if Frodo thought that his stew had made us a bit sick. You know how annoyed he gets when anyone says anything about his cooking. Just imagine the look on his face if he actually thought that he'd made us ill with his cooking!"

"That might be funny," Pippin said but then as he thought about it he wasn't complete certain. "Well, if he didn’t get all worried and send for the healer. I don’t want to wind up in bed with a healer fussing over me just to get in a bit of teasing on Frodo."

"No, and if he sends for a healer and one of us isn’t sick, then he’ll hang us for sure," Merry agreed.

"Too bad I can’t really turn green or something," Pippin said with a smile. "Or maybe I could just pretend to pass out or something and you could tell him that I_" Pippin stopped talking because Merry had that look on his face. It was the look that Merry usually got when he'd come up with a brilliant plan or some wild scheme. Pippin knew that look very well. Merry was plotting. This would be fun. "What are you planning, Merry?"

"Well, the Gaffer has piled all of those clippings from the yard over in that corner of the barn," Merry said, thinking as he went. "What if we took them and mixed them with the white wash and added a few other things to it and stained you green?"

"You could do that?" Pippin asked, looking at the pile of grass clippings skeptically.

"Well, of course I could. You can use plants to make dyes and such," Merry said. "I think we should leave out the white wash and use a bit of oil so that it will spread easier. It will work a bit like finger paints."

Pippin bit his lower lip. "Are you sure, Merry? I mean, can we really make me green?’

"Pip, it’ll be easy," Merry said. "You know how ink sometimes stains your fingers when you're writing? It will be something very like that. Frodo will get a good laugh out of it and he’ll know it isn’t real. No one actually turns green when they’re sick."

"Why am I the one that will be green?" Pippin asked a trace of misgiving creeping into his voice. "I mean, why don’t you turn green this time?’

"Because, I know how to make the dye and you don’t," Merry said, a bit smugly. "Also, you ate more of the stew so it makes more sense that you’d be the one. We might even convince Frodo that the stew did turn you green. After all, Bilbo had some odd friends and he also kept some strange things about. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had a recipe that would turn a hobbit green."

"I guess it will be funny to see the look on Frodo’s face," Pippin smiled. "How are you going to do this?" Pippin and Merry both moved over to the grass clipping and looked down at them thoughtfully. Merry was going to do a bit of cooking, as in cooking up a recipe for a hobbit-dying mixture.

"So, you just stood there and let Merry dye you green?" Frodo asked looking over at Pippin in wonder. The things that Pippin would allow Merry to do to him always amazed Frodo. Pippin was completely trusting of Merry in every situation. It baffled Frodo because often the results were much like now. Pippin wound up in a mess.

"I didn’t know it wouldn’t come off," Pippin said, defensively. "Merry said it would be like ink staining your fingers. That comes off."

Frodo looked over at Merry who was shrugging his shoulders. "I thought it would come off, Frodo. Honestly I did. I only meant to stain Pippin green for the joke. I’ll admit that it is funny, but I didn’t mean to do it."

"It is not funny!" Pippin said, folding his arms over his chest. "What am I going to do? I can’t go anywhere like this. I’m green!"

Frodo groaned. He was realizing that Pippin was probably stuck inside of Bag End and until they could come up with a way to wash the green dye off the lad. The idea of Pippin confined to the smial for days on end was not a pleasing one. Pippin was too restless when he ran out of things to do. This was becoming less amusing by the second.

"Well, we’ll be able to find you in a crowd of other hobbits this way," Merry said, smirking. "Excuse me, but has anyone seen my cousin, Pippin? He's about so high and has green eyes and well, come to think of it, he’s green all over!"

Pippin lunged at Merry and Frodo caught his arm just in time to keep the lad from punching Merry in the face. "None of that, Peregrin Took. You agreed to this and so you can’t blame Merry entirely. Merry should have known better but this is not completely his fault." Frodo gave Merry a very stern look. "Stop torturing him and help me think of something, Meriadoc. You were very quick to come up with a plan to dye your cousin green now let's hear some possible solutions."

"I think I’ve tried everything in your smial on him and nothing seems to be working," Merry said. "I make a very good green dye when I set my mind to it, don’t I?" Merry looked slightly proud of his work. Frodo and Pippin were less than thrilled at the moment but that didn't seem to trouble Merry. Frodo wondered how Merry could be proud of this?

"Aye, the Gaffer had put the clippings from the lawn in a pile in the barn. I think that was what gave Merry the idea to begin with," Pippin said.

"No, you gave me the idea, Pip," Merry said. "You said 'too bad I can’t really turn green.' and that made me wonder if perhaps you could be turned green. When I spotted the clippings I knew that you could be green," Merry smiled at Pippin.

Pippin sighed, "I have a very big mouth. Why do you listen to me? I'm a child! You aren't supposed to take me seriously!" Pippin looked very desperate just now. Frodo sighed.

"I have to ask this, Pip," Frodo began. "Are you green everywhere?" He looked over at Pippin's green legs and feet and wondered just how far he and Merry had gone with this.

"Of course not!" Pippin objected, looking shocked while Merry laughed. He reached over and raised his trousers a bit to reveal the upper part of his leg which was still its natural color.

"We did to the elbow on his arms, dyed his neck in the front and a bit on the chest where the shirt parts at the collar, and what you can see of his legs. Oh and his hands and face of course," Merry supplied.

"I should never let the two of you out of my sight," Frodo groaned. "What was I thinking?"

"You should put some on my legs too or he’ll know it isn’t real," Pippin suggested.

"I think you’re right," Merry said, taking a cloth and rubbing some of the newly-made dye onto Pippin’s right shin. The lad's face was already a very unhealthy-looking green. "I think we better do everything that shows. It’s funnier that way."

"You did a very good job on this stuff, Merry," Pippin smiled as he watched Merry spread the dye on his legs. "How did you learn to do this?"

"I’ve never made actually dye before, but I have watched my mum make it for fabrics. She has more supplies to work with, but this has turned out splendidly." Merry surveyed his work proudly. "I’ll just coat the back of your legs and then I think we’ve got everything ready for our little joke."

"Frodo will be so surprised," Pippin laughed. "Do you think he’ll really suspect that I’m ill?"

Merry smiled, "Probably not, but he will have a good laugh over it. You do look very funny."

"I want to see it before we wash it off," Pippin said. "I’ve never seen a green hobbit before."

"Meriadoc, this is without exception the strangest and most ill-advised trick that you two have ever pulled," Frodo sighed, looking at Pippin again. "Pippin is green, Merry. How did you think that you were going to get this off him?"

"I thought it would just wash off, Frodo," Merry said, defensively. "I mean, I didn’t think it would actually be permanent!"

"Permanant!" Pippin said looking horrified. "It can’t be! I can’t be green from now on!"

"You aren't going to be green from now on, Pippin," Frodo said reassuringly. "It may take a while to wear off but it will wear off."

"Honestly, Meriadoc," Frodo growled. "What were you thinking?" Frodo didn't want to attempt to guess how long it might actually take for the green dye to wear off on its own and so he returned his attention to Merry.

"Why are you blaming all of this on me?" Merry asked looking very insulted. "Pippin agreed to this and I do have some of it on my fingers as well."

"You have it on your fingers? Look at me, Merry!" Pippin shouted, beginning to pace about the room waving his arms. "My face is green! I don’t care if your fingers are a bit green!"

Merry was trying hard not to laugh and so was Frodo. Pippin looked very silly. He looked like an angry green blur as he stormed about the room waving his arms. Once he was certain that he could speak without laughing, Frodo said, "Settle down, Pippin. This isn't helping. I have an idea."

Pippin stopped and looked at Frodo hopefully. Frodo took hold of his younger cousin’s shoulders and said, "I think we should put you in a very hot tub of soapy water for an hour or two and let you soak."

"What about his face?" Merry asked. "Should he lay face down in the tub and hold his breath or-"

Frodo glared over at Merry. "Don't be daft. He should take a cloth and wet it and put that over his face. If we can get this stuff to fade a bit that might be a help."

"With water and soap, Merry and nothing more," Frodo instructed, firmly. He was not taking any changes that Merry might come up with yet another brilliant idea.

Merry left to follow Frodo’s instructions and Pippin looked over at Frodo. "I really don’t think he meant to do this," Pippin said, softly.

"Oh, Pippin, dearest," Frodo sighed hardy able to believe what he was hearing. The child was defending Merry. "Why don’t you ever manage to stay angry at Merry? It might do him some good, you know. It might just teach him not to do these things." He ran a hand through Pippin’s curls which were still, blessedly their natural color.

Pippin shrugged. "He’s Merry." This seemed to be the lad’s only explanation for things.

Just then Merry returned and said, "Water’s ready, Pip. Let’s see if we can fade you a bit."

Pippin nodded and followed Merry to the tub while Frodo tried to puzzle out the relationship between his two younger cousins. He knew that if Merry suddenly told Pippin that they should dye the rest of him green because it might help things that Pippin would go along with it even now. He simply didn't understand why, at seventeen year's of age, Pippin had never mistrusted any of Merry’s ideas. How was such blind faith possible?

Two hours later, Pippin was still green. He was very clean, but he was still green. The dye might have faded slightly but not much. The three cousins sat in the parlor and ate a late supper trying hard not to talk about Pippin's current state. Frodo’s second attempt at cooking a meal was much better. He had stuck to something he knew very well. Mushrooms. They all enjoyed his mushrooms very much.

"Well, I suppose we should all get some sleep and tackle things fresh in the morning," Frodo said at last.

"That seems right," Merry agreed. "Tomorrow we will be rested and ready to come up with a better plan."

Pippin sighed. "There isn’t anything we can do and you both know it. It will just have to wear off however long that takes."

"I think I should get used to being the only green hobbit in the Shire," Pippin grumbled, turning to go to bed.

Merry watched him go and then looked over at Frodo worriedly. "Isn’t there anything we can do?"

"Go to bed, Merry," Frodo said, gently. It was obvious that Merry was concerned. "Tomorrow may bring answers, but more than likely, Pippin is right this time. Unless we can think of something tomorrow then the dye will have to wear off."

Frodo rolled his eyes. "I don’t think he’s angry in the least, Merry. I think that he should be a bit put out as you may have led him to believe that you knew what you were doing, but he’s not," Frodo said, simply. "For some strange reason, Pippin doesn’t seem to be able to stay angry with you. You might try to remember that the next time you get one of these brilliant ideas. Pippin trusts you, cousin. That gives you a responsibility not to mislead him." Frodo went off to his own bed and left Merry standing there.

"Well I didn’t tell him that he should trust me," Merry muttered to the empty parlour. "No one else does."

Pippin sat at the table the next morning playing with his food. He didn’t seem terribly hungry. It was a lovely day outside, but he knew that he was stuck in the smial unless he wanted to be laughed out of Hobbiton.

Merry had tried his best to make small talk and to lighten the mood but nothing was working and so he’d given up trying. Frodo was still angry with him for dying Pippin green and Pippin was depressed by the entire situation. Their lovely visit to Bag End had been spoiled and it was all his fault. Pippin had suggested the idea to him, that much was true, but Pip would never have gone any further if he hadn’t come up with this plan. Merry stirred his eggs around on his plate and sighed. How did one remove green dye from a hobbit?

Just then, someone began pushing the back door open and Pippin disappeared underneath the table in a flash. Frodo turned and smiled at Sam. "Hullo, Sam. How are you this morning?"

"Oh, I’m fine Mister Frodo. I thought you and Mister Merry and Mister Pippin might be needin’ some cooking done this morning, but it looks as if you’ve got a breakfast," Sam smiled. "Hullo, Mister Merry."

"Why does everyone insist on thinking I might need cooking done?" Frodo grumbled, getting up to put his plate into the dish pan.

"I just thought what with you havin’ company and all," Sam said, scanning the room. "Where’s Mister Pippin this mornin? Not still a’bed, I hope."

"Might just as well come out of there and get it over with Pip," Merry said, gently, leaning over the edge of the table.

Sam frowned and looked over at Frodo. "We had a bit of an accident or something last night, Sam, and Pippin is feeling a bit shy this morning," Frodo said.

"Was anyone hurt?" Sam asked, worried. He never liked the sound of the word, accident and Mister Frodo’s little cousin was always getting himself into something or other. He hoped the lad hadn’t been badly injured.

"Well, no," Merry said. It was much less amusing today and he hated to explain this to Sam. Sam was always so practical and so grown up about things. He was only two years older than Merry was but most of the time he seemed to be closer to Frodo’s age.

There was a slight movement and Pippin crawled out from under the table to stand in front of Sam. "I'm not hurt, just green," Pippin sighed, looking at his toes and probably blushing though just now, it was very hard to tell.

Sam’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open in surprise. "How in all o’ middle earth did you manage that?"

Pippin looked up at Sam and said, "It has to wear off because nothing will take it off so I guess I’m going to be green for a very long time."

Sam laughed and shook his head. "Did you try the Gaffer’s turpentine? Why that stuff’ll take the paint off of a fence. The Gaffer uses it to take grass stain off of his hands and his tools when he works in the garden and he uses it on all manner o’ stains. Works better than most anything."

"Course you have to be careful with it and keep it out o’ your eyes and you have to wash it right off o’ your skin as soon as you can or it will make you break out," Sam warned.

Pippin and Merry were both looking at Sam in amazement now. "Do you think it might work?" Pippin asked.

"I’ll get it and we can give it a try," Sam grinned. "Can’t hurt to try. It will be better than waitin’ for it to wear off. It can’t be easy bein’ green,"

"It’s not," Pippin agreed. With that, Sam left them standing there, staring after him and went to the barn to get the Gaffer’s turpentine.

Thirty minutes later, Pippin was soaking in a hot tub again only this time he was back to his normal color, if only a bit redder from the scrubbing. As he sat there amid the bubbles and scrubbed his face, Merry sat across from him on a stool, keeping him company.

"Pip, I want to apologize for getting you into this," Merry said. "I really didn’t mean to dye you green for that long."

Pippin smiled at him. "I know, Merry. I’m not angry. Besides, it’s fine now. Sam fixed everything." Pippin splashed a bit of his bath water in Merry’s direction.

Merry grinned. "Sometimes, Pip, you have to try and be a bit skeptical about some of my plans. I get carried away sometimes and I don’t mean to, but I get you in to some pretty interesting fixes."

"I do that to you too, Merry," Pippin said. "I’m not worried. After all, we always have Frodo and Sam to get us out of trouble."

"Pip, if Sam hadn’t suggested the turpentine, you’d still be green," Merry said. "I’m telling you this for your own good. Sometimes you have to refuse to do what I say. Promise me."

Pippin sat up straighter in his bath and tried to look very serious. "I promise that I will refuse to do what you say sometimes, Merry. If you want me to, all you have to do is tell me when and I’ll refuse." Pippin smiled at him.

I have no idea how to make dye of any kind so if my description of the process is a bit vague that is the reason. To those of you skilled in the art of dye-making, I apologize for my short-comings in this area.

I also have to give thanks to Billy Joel for the title of this one, "A Matter of Trust" and to Kermit the Frog for teaching us all that "It's not easy being Green".

Also, a big thank you to PIppinfan1988 for her friendship and support. Here's too you, PF! (raises mug and drinks deeply of favorite beverage.)

The General is still in the kitchen with his Advisor and the Old Campaigner. The three of them are having lunch at present and we are standing watch. The General may be gone for quite a while but we will not shirk our duty. We will wait for his return and our new orders. We are supposed to be engaged in fighting The Battle of the Five Armies which we have done many times before. This time, our mission was interrupted when the Old Campaigner called our General to his noon day meal. So now we wait.

The sound of small feet tip-toeing across the battle field can be heard and I know at once that the Intruder has returned. Some of our number will soon go missing, I fear. The Intruder is moving among us now and making his selections. Just two ranks in front of me I see him remove four of our brave troops from their posts. Now, he is moving to the rear flank and has taken two more soldiers from our finest dwarf army. As he scurries between our rows, he occasionally knocks over a few of my comrades. He is careless and he cuts a path through our center and takes one more soldier from our newest members. He is spoiling our line of defense! The General will be very angry. I fear that we are all in for a very unpleasant afternoon. The Intruder has just taken five more brave souls from our right flank and is now fleeing the field of battle.

Several of my fallen comrades call to me. I know that they are all right, but still, I worry at what this random removal of troops will do to our defenses. Many of our number now lay scattered on the field. We look disgraceful at this moment and I am ashamed. We have broken our ranks. We are now open to attack. The General will not be pleased.

"I’ll be in the parlour, Frodo," Merry calls to his older cousin as he leaves the now empty table. "I have a battle to finish and my troops are waiting for me." Luncheon is now over and all Merry can think of is returning to his wooden soldiers. He has them all positioned and ready to go. Now that he is well fed, the battle can begin in earnest. He plans to re-enact The Battle of the Five Armies. As an after-thought, he turns back toward the kitchen and calls out, "Bilbo, would you like to watch my armies do battle? You can help me to get it just right."

"I think I’d like that very much, Merry lad," Bilbo says, with a wink to Frodo. "Frodo why don’t you put the dishes away while I supervise Merry’s battle."

Frodo nods and smiles at his beloved Bilbo. "I can do that, Bilbo. You and Merry go ahead." He turns to the dishes on the table and prepares to go to work. He is nearly jarred into dropping one of the plates when he hears the yell from the other room.

"Pippin! Where are you?" Merry is shouting. "When I get my hands on you, you are going to be one very sorry little hobbit!"

General Brandybuck has returned and he is not pleased. He, of course, spots the breaks in our ranks at once. His eyes grow wide with alarm and then narrow with anger. He knows that the Intruder has been here. He looks around at those of us that remain at our stations and then at those of us who have been knocked from our ranks and are scattered about the field. He is sounding the alarm and I can hear the Old Campaigner as he makes his way into our presence.

"Now, Merry, don’t take on so," Bilbo says as he enters the room. "Everything can be righted." He frowns as he looks at the small, wooden armies. Many of Merry’s soldiers have been knocked about and kicked out of place and he can see one underneath the edge of the sofa.

"I’ve told him to leave my things alone," Merry says, loudly so that his voice will carry to where-ever Pippin is hiding. "All I ask him to do is to stay away from my things! Look at this mess! Look! They’re all over the place! Everyone is out of their rows and now the entire thing is off! It was perfect when I came in to luncheon!"

I am deeply ashamed. Our General is displeased with us now. We don’t pass muster at all. It must be very embarrassing for the General and in front of the Old Campaigner too! I would hang my head in shame were I not at attention. No point in making things worse. I must try to maintain the dignity of my position. Let the others panic if they must, but I am the General’s favorite Lieutenant. I can’t let the troops see me at less than my best. The General has enough trouble now.

"Now, Merry," Bilbo tries to soothe him. "Don’t worry. I’m sure that with a bit of work the armies can be restored to their proper locations in no time."

Merry looks over at Bilbo in dismay. "He’s taken some of them again, Bilbo. Some of my best soldiers are missing!" Merry then turns and yells. "You have five minutes to bring back my soldiers, Peregrin Took, or I am coming after you!"

Frodo abandons the dishes and comes into the parlour. "Now, Merry, you have to remember that Pippin is just a little lad and he doesn’t understand all of this," Frodo says. "He’s too small yet to realize how much work this was."

"He’s taken some of my soldiers, Frodo," Merry objects. "He knows what he’s doing! I’ve told him not to touch the armies without my permission. I’d let him help but he won’t do it properly. He keeps trying to put them in a circle or mix up the different colours. He spoils it!"

The General is taking this latest attack on us personally and I am proud to be one of his soldiers. His Advisor simply doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation. His Advisor is too diplomatic for my personal taste, but I have no say in this matter and must leave it to our General to see to our well being. `He will defend us.

The small soldiers were Merry’s pride and joy. He loved them dearly and each year for one occasion or another, Bilbo would gift Merry with more of them. They were hand carved and hand painted by the dwarves of Dale. Each soldier had a detailed face and each had a small weapon in hand. Some of them were green, some were painted in blue, some were clad in yellow and the newest of Merry’s armies were all painted in red. Merry was very particular about the way his armies were lined up. He kept colours together and he was always trying to stage The Battle of the Five Armies as accurately as he could. Often this meant filling out the ranks with chess men or Draught pieces as there never seemed to be enough soldiers to suit Merry’s plans. Pippin had not touched any of the Draughts, but he had removed the white King and one black pawn.

"I should have known when he left the table before us that he planned to do this," Merry said. "He ambushed my armies!"

From down the hall a voice called out in response to these charges, "No, I didn’t!"

"I am getting my armies!" Merry declared and fled the room before either Bilbo or Frodo could stop him. "You’re going to be very sorry, Pippin!"

There was a squeal from down the hall and then the sound of little feet running across the wooden floors of Bag End. Bilbo sighed and looked over at Frodo, "Go after them, lad and try to see to it that they don’t kill one another. I’ll wait here. Bring them both to me once you’ve caught them."

Frodo nodded and with one last look at Merry’s armies, he left in the direction that Merry had gone.

Looks like the Old Campaigner has sent the Advisor to help the General bring back the Intruder. The General doesn’t need any help, but it is always a good thing to have someone that you can trust guarding your flank. Now the Old Campaigner is rescuing some of the fallen. He is sitting some of them back on their feet and dragging others out and placing them as best he can. He was not here before and so he does not know how our General had us arranged, but he is doing his best. The General will be back soon enough to over-see the Old Campaigner’s efforts. The rank containing the Draughts who were bravely standing guard with us is in ruin. The General had them arranged in small piles. He was using them in stacks of three, letting each stack represent a soldier.

I must admit that I had my doubts about his usage of the Draughts at first, but as always, the general’s reasoning proved sound. The Draughts have done their part in other battles and have earned the respect of most of us here. Some of the older, more judgmental soldiers still will not accept them, but most of us trust that they will do what they must.

"Ow! Let me down, Frodo," Pippin wailed as the three of them returned to the parlour. There had been quite a scuffle in the back bedroom, but now Frodo was in charge. He had Pippin under one arm and Merry was following behind them, gloating. "Frodo, I didn’t do anything!"

"Don’t make it worse by lying," Merry said. "You took my soldiers and I demand them back!"

"If I let you go, you’ll run off again, Pippin and it’s time for you to face the music," Frodo said, sternly.

"Make him give back my armies," Merry said. "Then punish him. He deserves it."

"Hold on there, lads," Bilbo said. "I’ll decide who deserves what. Frodo let put Peregrin down."

"If he does, than I shall send for his parents and he can go home early," Bilbo said, quietly.

"I don’t wanna go home early," Pippin whined. Frodo sat the little hobbit on his feet, knowing that Bilbo’s threat would keep the little imp from running off. "I’ll be good, Bilbo. Please don’t send me home. I don’t have anyone to play with there. I wanna stay with Merry and Frodo."

"Send him home," Merry growled, folding his arms over his chest and looking away from Pippin who was now sniffling. "I don’t want to play with him if he can’t behave."

Our General has returned with the Intruder! Hurrah! Now the Old Campaigner can hand down punishment. If the Advisor doesn’t go soft and try to mediate a truce, then the Intruder may well be removed from our midst completely. The Intruder is crying! He is not very military and he is no match for our General. We must wait now to see what is to be done. I only hope that our missing troops are returned unharmed. The memory of another attack is still fresh in my mind. We lost two fine soldiers when a large animal carried them off. We were on a mission out near the barn on our home soil in Buckland when the great beast carried them off. The General gave chase, but it was too late. I hope that it is not too late to save the soldiers that were taken prisoner by the Intruder.

"Don’t be angry, Merry," Pippin was saying between sniffles. "I just needed to borrow a few of them for a while is all." Pippin was standing next to Merry and tugging on his older cousin’s shirt sleeve. "I just needed them."

"You still should have got Merry’s permission before you borrowed his soldiers, Pippin," Frodo said.

"But Frodo, Merry never lets me borrow them. He won’t even if I ask," Pippin objected.

"Now that’s enough of that, lads," Bilbo said, stepping between the two youngsters. He then turned to Pippin. "If you didn’t have Merry’s permission to use his soldiers, then you took them on your own, Pippin. Now, what is that called when you take something without permission that doesn’t belong to you?"

Pippin fidgeted and bit his lower lip. He looked at the floor and mumbled something.

"I told you he stole them," Merry said. "And he made a mess of the rest of them."

"I didn’t mean to make a mess,’ Pippin said. "I just needed some of them for the boat is all."

"These are armies,’ Merry said. "They don’t belong in your boat. They march. They don’t sail."

"I’ll go and get them," Pippin said, sadly. "But I did need them." He looked over at Frodo thinking to gain some help but found none.

"No they can’t,’ Pippin said. He then turned to go and get Merry’s soldiers while muttering. "None of you have ever seen a cow or a pony in a boat on the Brandywine."

Bilbo and Frodo were smiling in spite of themselves. "I don’t believe that I have seen any ponies in boats," Bilbo said softy so that Pippin wouldn’t hear.

"He knows not to take my things," Merry said, still trying not to be drawn into all of this business about whether or not farm animals went sailing. He didn’t want to let Pippin win this one. True, he’d never seen anything as ridiculous as a cow in a row boat, but these were soldiers! They were not sailors or pirates and so they didn’t have any more business being in a boat than Pippin’s wooden farm animals did.

I wonder at the wisdom of allowing the Intruder to go alone to retrieve our missing men, but the General seems willing to allow it. I was very proud of the way that the Old Campaigner managed to get a confession from the Intruder. I can see why the General has such regard for him. I was also relieved that the Advisor didn’t make trouble. Sometimes he can be too forgiving when it comes to the Intruder. I only hope that our missing troops are still in one piece. We are sturdy soldiers and very well-made, but the Intruder has broken other items before. I am reminded of the Old Campaigner’s favourite tea pot and an ugly incident with a rather large cake. Ah, he returns! Now, there will be justice!

Pippin entered the parlour at that moment with his head down, moving much slower than he normally did. In his hands he was cradling a very sturdy little red sail boat. He held the boat close to his chest and peered at his cousins through his curls. The boat had been in water somewhere in the smial because Pippin was trailing little drips of it behind him as he walked. This was another violation of the rules. Pippin was not allowed to fill up the bathing tubs or anything else with water unless he had permission and supervision. Pippin could do a great deal of damage with nothing more than water.

Merry scowled at his cousin and said, "My soldiers had better be all right and they had better all be there. I’ve counted and so I know how many you have."

Pippin made his way over to Merry and extended the small boat out toward his cousin. "They’re all here."

Bilbo was wondering what room in Bag End was now wet from Pippin’s afternoon of boating but decided to wait until Merry had regained his armies to ask. Frodo sighed and looked at the trail of water which led into the hall. He hoped that Bilbo wouldn’t send Pippin home.

"One of us should have been watching him a bit closer," Frodo remarked in an attempt to shift a bit of the blame from Pippin.

Merry took the small boat and began scanning its contents. "They all seem to be here. You are very lucky that they are."

"They all made very good sailors, Merry,’" Pippin said, hopefully. "They all stayed in the boat most of the time. The King fell out once or twice, but I think it was his first time in the boat. You should be proud of them."

Merry had begun to empty the boat of his soldiers and Pippin stood there with his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels and waiting.

"Yes, they’re all here," Merry admitted, handing the boat back to Pippin. This was not the first time that Pippin had pulled this trick. Merry had lost soldiers to his seven-year-old cousin before. They were always returned once it was discovered that they were missing, but each time, Merry examined them as if he feared the worst.

"The boat looks so empty," Pippin said, softly, pulling it close to him again, protectively.

"It had better not get filled up with my armies again, Pippin," Merry advised.

"I t’s very hard to sail an empty boat," Pippin explained. "It goes off course without anyone to steer it and your soldiers were having so much fun."

Merry was trying not to smile. He bent down on his knee to be eye-level with Pippin and sighed. "My soldiers were having fun?"

"Yes, Merry," Pippin said, looking at him seriously. "The ones in the green were really enjoying it before you spoiled it."

"Peregrin Took! These are my soldiers and I didn’t spoil things. You are the one that has spoiled my battle," Merry pointed out. "I was going to do the Battle of the Five Armies with Bilbo’s help before you wrecked things."

Frodo started to say something, but Bilbo put up a hand to silence him. "Let them work it out, lad."

"The green soldiers and these yellow ones are a wee bit tired of the Battle of The Five Armies, Merry," Pippin said. "The King is probably glad to be back, but these ones there were having an adventure at sea."

Bilbo and Frodo were smiling. The small lad said all of this as if he’d talked it over with these tiny soldiers and was merely repeating their opinions. Merry was softening also, though he was trying to remain stern.

Imagine! How traitorous can they be? I have never fully trusted the green troops to begin with and now I see that my suspicions may have been well-founded. The intruder has convinced them to disobey orders willingly. It is true that he captured them in the first place, but if they were actually enjoying themselves in that boat of his, well, I only hope that the general will make them regret their treason. I have new respect for the White King now. I hope he will be rewarded with additional rank for his bravery.

"I needed them, Merry," Pippin said. "How am I to command my ship properly if I don’t have a crew?"

"You could make a sailors out of the little farmers that you have. You have three of them for your wooden animals and they could be your crew," Merry suggested, smiling now.

"The farmers get sea sick, Merry," Pippin said, forcing Frodo to bite his cheeks to keep from laughing. "I’ve put them in the boat before and they get too sick to sail so I won’t make them go any more. Besides, the animals need them. Papa says farming is a big job and takes all of your time. They don’t have time to go to sea."

Merry laughed. "Well, I guess you’ll just have to be the Master and Commander of your ship on your own, Pippin."

Pippin frowned and nodded. "I’ll just pretend that it has a crew." He looked sadly at the small boat. Then he looked over at Bilbo. "Are you going to send me home now?"

"Not if you promise to behave," Bilbo said. "I do need to know what room you’ve been sailing the boat in because that is also not allowed without permission."

Frodo groaned softly and Merry grinned at this news. "Looks like he got you too."

"Yes, and your sympathy is very touching," Frodo sighed. "Pippin, did you spill water all over my room?"

"Oh, no, Frodo," Pippin said. "Not all over. I only spilt a wee bit here and there but not on anything but the floor. Are you angry now too?" Pippin looked over at Frodo and gave him his best pleading look.

"I will," Pippin said. "I just don’t want you and Merry to be mad at me and not play with me or for Bilbo not to send me home is all. I was only trying to have an adventure at sea like they say Isengar Took did is all I wanted to do." Pippin then looked over at Merry again. "I’m sorry that I wrecked your armies, Merry."

"I suppose that I can forgive you this time if you will do me a favour," Merry said.

"I will Merry," Pippin said, eyes lighting up. He wrapped his arms around his older cousin and Merry picked him up. "I’ll do the favour, Merry. What is it?"

"Well, if Bilbo doesn’t mind, I think you should take a bath, Pippin," Merry said.

"Am I dirty again?" Pippin asked. He wasn’t really surprised by this news, but it wasn’t the favour that he’d been expecting. Folks were always telling him that he needed a bath. It did seem to be a strange favour.

Merry laughed. "Not really, but if Bilbo will let you bathe this early in the day, after you’ve cleaned up Frodo’s room that is, then I will sit with you and you can sail you boat properly."

Pippin smiled at Merry and then his lip protruded and he sighed. "No, thank you, Merry. It isn’t any good without a crew to command."

"Then I suppose that you will have to point out the soldiers that were enjoying themselves and you and I will have to let them sail in your bath," Merry said.

"Is it all right, Bilbo?" Merry asked. "I can do The Battle of The Five Armies for you after supper tonight when the green soldiers return from their adventure at sea."

"That sounds like an excellent plan to me, Meriadoc," Bilbo agreed. "After all, these are your soldiers to command as you see fit."

Merry nodded and Pippin grinned in triumph. "Do you hear that, lads?" Pippin crowed, looking over at the green soldiers who were laying on the arm of the sofa presently. "We’re going off to sea again and this time, Merry’s coming too!"

I am shocked by the General’s leniency toward the Intruder! Both he and the Old Campaigner have not followed through in this matter. As for the green soldiers, well, their behavior has been appalling in this matter! Now, we will have to wait here all afternoon and into the evening while that lot of traitors go sailing! I must resign myself to this as I know well that orders are orders. Surely the General knows what he is doing.

Merry reached down for one of the blue soldiers and said to Pippin, "Do you think we should take my best Lieutenant on our voyage?"

Pippin frowned a bit and shook his head. "I don’t think he likes me very much, Merry and I don’t think he’s very nice to the green soldiers either. Maybe you should leave him here this time."

What nerve! Speaking unkindly of me to the General! The Intruder has gone too far this time.

"Well, if you’re sure, Pip," Merry said, starting to return the soldier to his place in the ranks.

Pippin cocked his head to one side and then said, "Well, if you think we can trust him."

"We can trust him, Pip," Merry grinned, going along. "He’s one of my finest soldiers." This one had always been a favorite of Merry’s and he wondered why Pippin didn’t like it.

At least the General has recognized my true worth! The Intruder has not swayed his opinion of me in the least. I am over-come with pride.

"All right then," Pippin agreed. "But he has to follow my orders or I’ll have him put ashore."

The Intruder must be a very stern commander indeed. Perhaps, I have misjudged him.

"You certainly have, soldier," Pippin said, looking at the Lieutenant and smiling as Merry handed him the little figure. "But we all make mistakes." He whispered this last. He would keep this between himself and the Lieutenant. A good commander does not discipline the troops in front of one another. He would be a good commander and make Merry proud of him.

Sorry about the "Master and Commander joke. Well, not too sorry, but maybe a little sorry. LOL

This was written for a challenge on Hobbit Ficathon and is told with conversation only per the challenge. Features Frodo at 30, Merry at 16, and Pippin at 8.

“Hmmm, oh, I think that was someone’s wagon passing on the road just down the hill from here. Go to sleep, Pip.”

“Listen, Merry. Did you hear that? That’s not a wagon. I think that was an animal or something very big. Did you hear it?”

“I don’t know about Merry, but I was asleep until I heard you, Peregrin Took and I wouldn’t have heard that other noise at all if you hadn’t been talking loud enough to wake me.”

“Of course there’s something out there, you little goof. The woods are full of animals and bugs and all sorts of things at night just like they are in the daytime. They won’t hurt you. Now, lay down, cover up, and go to sleep so that tomorrow we will all be able to stay awake.”

“I just asked is all, Merry. I like most bugs, but some of them are kind of creepy. I don’t want to sleep with any of them, even the nice ones. Do you, Frodo?”

“I wouldn’t mind sleeping with them if they were quiet. Lay down, Pippin and let Frodo and I sleep even if you aren’t going to. Now, what are you doing? Quit wiggling around and lay down, Peregrin Took! I am about to thrash you.”

“I’m just getting comfortable is all, Merry. I can’t sleep if I’m not comfortable. The ground is very hard and this tent doesn’t seem to have as much room in it as I thought it would. You need a bigger tent, Frodo.”

“Hehehe, that’s funny, Frodo. Now, go to sleep, Pip squeak or we won’t ever do this again.”

“I’m going to sleep, Merry. I don’t know why you’re being so mean to me. I haven’t done anything. It’s just very noisy out here in the woods. It’s very hard to sleep with the noise.”

“The noise of you talking about how noisy it is out here is what is keeping me awake, Pippin. Now, go to sleep.”

“Fine, I’ll just lay here and listen to all those sounds while you and Frodo sleep.”

“Yours, Frodo. You said, ‘Merry, wouldn’t it be fun to put the tent up outside of the smial near the trees and sleep out in it with Pippin?’ That’s what you said. Then I said, ‘Yes, Frodo that would be fun for all of us. I think Pip is old enough now and I think he would enjoy it.’ Then you said, “Would you like to camp out, Pip?’ Then Pippin said, ‘Oh, yes, Frodo!’”

“You’re making fun of me. You do that all the time. You try to sound like a Took and you don’t do it right.”

“I think I do it perfectly well. My mum’s a Took, or she was before she married my papa, so I think I know what a little, squirmy Took sounds like.”

“Agh! You both sound too loud and too annoying right now, Peregrin. Now, if you don’t both go to sleep, I am going to get up and walk the few feet or so between here and Bag End and go into my nice, quiet room and get into my nice comfortable bed and go to sleep. I will leave you two out here to fight all night about such ridiculous matters as what Pippin sounds like and what sort of bugs are in the woods.”

“Could we both go in your room and sleep and leave nasty, ole Merry out here in this uncomfortable tent?”

“Wait a minute, both of you! Now, just who was it that wanted to sleep out here in the first place?”

“Merry’s right, Frodo. You asked me if I wanted to and I thought you and Merry wanted to and so I thought that I should want to, so here we all are. Don’t you want to?”

“Don’t I want to? I thought that, oh, never mind. Just never mind any of this. What say that all three of us go back inside Bag End and crawl into our beds and leave this tent to the bugs.”

“Now, that is the best idea that you’ve had all evening, Frodo. What do you think, Pip? Do we go inside and sleep?”

“I was just getting comfortable, Merry, but if you and Frodo want to go in, then I guess it will be alright.”

“Aghhhhhhhh! That’s it! Everyone in the Smial now and I had better not hear a word out of either of you. You both have your own beds so go to them and leave me in peace! And don’t wake Bilbo!”

Merry was sleeping. Pippin eased gently into the room, trying hard not to wake his cousin. A board beneath his foot creaked and he stood still.

"Get to bed before you wake everyone else," Merry instructed. "Just where have you been anyway?"

"I couldn't sleep," Pippin said, climbing into the bed next to Merry's and pulling up the blankets.

"I asked where you've been," Merry repeated, turning over in the dark room to face Pippin. He could just make out Pippin's shadow by what was left of the firelight.

"Weren't you cold?" Merry asked, knowing how damp and chilly the air had turned recently with the coming of fall.

"Thinking too much, I guess," Pippin admitted. "I can quit thinking about your birthday."

"Why are you thinking about my birthday?" Merry asked. "It's still months away at this point." Merry wondered what had brought this on.

Pippin got out of his bed and came over and climbed in next to Merry, putting his cold toes next to Merry's warm leg. "Pippin, your feet are like ice," Merry complained.

"You’re going to make yourself sick roaming about outside on a night like this," Merry sighed. "You need to give more thought to what you’re doing. I can’t watch out for you every minute after all. Sometimes I need to sleep."

Pippin was strangely quiet in reaction to Merry’s teasing. That was usually just the sort of remark that sent Pippin into a small tirade about how he didn’t need looking after. This time, Merry felt Pippin tense up a bit next to him. Worried that something serious might be wrong, Merry tugged on Pippin’s ear and asked, "Want to tell me what’s bothering you?"

"Peregrin Took, do not come in here and wake me and then lie to me," Merry said, trying to sound stern.

"I didn’t mean to wake you, Merry," Pippin said, softly. "I didn’t mean to lie to you either. It’s only that this floor has a few squeaky old boards in it and I always come down on one of them no matter how hard I try not to."

"You never have been the quiet sort," Merry said, smiling to himself. "Now, don’t make me lay here awake all night worrying about you. Tell me what’s bothering you so we can settle it and go to sleep."

Pippin sighed and turned over on his back, putting his hands behind his head, "You can't settle everything just like that, Merry. Some things take a bit of time to sort through."

Merry propped himself up on one elbow and frowned. "So, what is this very difficult problem that will probably keep me awake all night?"

"I was just thinking is all," Pippin said, now raising up into a sitting position with his back against the head board of the bed. "I shouldn’t have been, but I can’t help it. It’s all getting so close."

"What’s getting so close?" Merry asked. He hoped that what was getting close was the answer to all of this, but he doubted that. Pippin seemed intent on dragging this one out.

This made Merry sit up and pay attention. He also was leaning against the head board now. "Sometimes when you have me awake at just before dawn and start leading me down the garden path like this, I wonder, you silly Took," Merry said. "Most of the time I just know why, don’t you?"

"Tonight, I’m a wee bit nervous about it," Pippin said, looking over at his older cousin whom he adored.

"What am I going to do?" Merry wondered. It seemed the further this went, the more confusing it became.

"Merry, when you turn thirty-three, well, are we still going to be friends?" Pippin asked, in a rush. "I mean, once you’re thirty-three will you still want to be friends?"

"Well, you are going to come of age and I'm still going to be in my tweens is all," Pippin said, worriedly. He shifted nervously. "I was just wondering if maybe when you do come of age if you might not want me around so much."

"I'll not be of age or anything and well, I thought you might only want to be with hobbits that are more grown up than me," Pippin said, a bit sadly. "You might not have time to spend messing about and doing silly pranks and all. You'll be an adult. I won’t be an adult for ever so long yet."

Merry chuckled softly, "But you'll still be my silly little cousin and my best friend."

Pippin grinned broadly with relief, though he knew Merry couldn't see him and then said, "I knew that."

"Go to sleep then, Pip," Merry said, gently. "And stop thinking so much. These things always happen when you start thinking too much."

"Good night, Merry," Pippin said, and climbed out of his cousin's bed and back into his own.

So far, this is the shortest thing I've written. More Pip and Merry, of course!

"It tickles," Pippin giggled as Merry sat the small caterpillar on his finger. Pippin giggled and watched the small, furry creature make its way across his hand.

"Hold your hand still, Pip and be careful so that you don’t crush it," Merry said. Instructing Pippin on the proper way to do things was his responsibility as the older cousin. Pippin was very quick to catch on if he was paying attention. Sometimes Merry had to repeat things in order to get his point across, but usually Pippin was ready to learn new things.

Merry reached out and took the small bug from Pippin’s hand and moved it over onto the grass. "Now, it will go on about its business," Merry said.

Pippin leaned his sharp nose down level with the bug and began tracking its path through the grass. "What is its business, Merry?" the inquisitive five-year-old wanted to know. "What do bugs do all day?"

"Well, they have to find food and stuff," Merry said, knowingly. He watched as Pippin crawled carefully on his hands and knees through the grass after the brightly colored bug.

"Can we help it find food?" Pippin asked. "I don’t think it's doing so good at it. It’s a long way from our vegetable garden over here." He sat up, taking his eyes off of the bug for a moment and looked over at Merry. "Can we move it to the garden? Can we, Merry?"

"Pip, bugs eat different stuff than we do. They aren’t like hobbits," Merry said, patiently. "Some of them eat grass."

Pippin was trailing after the caterpillar again. "This one isn’t eating any grass, Merry. Maybe this one likes vegetables."

"Maybe the bug is full right now Pip. Maybe it just ate before we found it," Merry said, hoping to distract his little cousin. "It might be doing something else just now."

Pippin was nearly on the ground as he studied the bug’s movements. "What’s it doing then, Merry?"

Pippin sat up and looked at Merry. "It’s very good at being a bug, isn’t it?"

Pippin crawled over and sat down next to his older, wiser, cousin and asked, "If I were a bug like that one, do you think I’d be a good bug, Merry?"

Merry considered the rather grass-stained, cheerful, little hobbit sitting in front of him and nodded. "I think you’d make a terrific bug, Pip."

"I think you’d be a green bug," Merry said, letting the grass stain sway his opinion on this matter.

"I could hide in the grass then and other bugs couldn’t find me," Pippin said, liking this idea. "Only I’d want you to find me and put me in the garden with the vegetables because even if I was a bug, Merry, I would still like vegetables better than grass."

"If you were a bug, I’d be sure to put you in the garden,’ Merry assured him, trying not to laugh. Little lads were very easily offended. Sometimes, you could hurt Pippin’s feelings without knowing what you’d done.

Pippin threw his arms around Merry’s neck and grinned. "Pretend I’m a bug now, Merry and put me in the garden."

Merry stood with his little cousin in his arms and started toward the garden. "I will, but you have to promise not to pick any of the tomatoes. You always get those all over you."

Pippin lay his head on Merry’s shoulder and asked, softly, "What if you couldn’t find me because I was so green, Merry?"

Merry sighed, "Because if you really were a bug then I’d be a bug too because we’re cousins. Also, you’d be the noisiest bug ever so you’d be easy to find." The thirteen-year-old hobbit lad smiled at his little cousin and sat him in the vegetable garden, knowing full-well that the child would go straight for the tomatoes. It was going to be a long afternoon.

This one was written for a Merry Point of view challenge on the hobbit_ficathon site, but it goes along with the rest of the these stories.

"Well, it wasn’t suppose to fall like that," he says and I groan, knowing that he meant well. He shakes his head and a light sprinkling of flour clouds the air between us.

He bites his lower lip and looks down at his feet and I know that I have hit a nerve. He sighs as if the weight of the entire Shire has descended upon his thin shoulders and mumbles. "I thought I could do it myself."

"I guess it was heavier than you thought it would be," I say as I survey the floor around us trying not to look directly at him. "Sometimes it’s hard to judge the weight of something without lifting it and by then it’s too late."

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him nodding his head and he says a bit louder than before, "It was very high up as well and the chair didn’t help very much. Why would someone want to keep their flour up so high to begin with?" He is drawing a line in the flour on the floor with his toe as he says this to me.

"I suppose that when you have a great many things to store that something has to go on the top shelves," I reason. "It just makes sense that sooner or later you would run out of room on the lower shelves."

"Well, if these were my shelves I’d keep the heavy things on the lower ones and store the small things up there," he points to the shelf where the flour, which coats the floor around us, used to be. "Just makes more sense that way, don’t you think?"

He is looking at me now and waiting for me to agree with him. I venture a look over at him and fight to control the laughter that is threatening to escape. He is covered in flour from the crown of his curly head to his furry toes. His serious expression only makes it harder to fight the laughter. I shrug my shoulders and quickly look at the floor again.

"I only meant to get the ingredients and put them on the table so that when you finally arrived, we could begin," he says, trying to lay a bit of the blame for this on me by bringing up my tardiness. "I did think that you’d completely forgotten or weren’t coming or something and I decided that I had better start without you."

I whirl around and face him letting my anger bubble up and escape without thinking about the effect this will have. "So this is now my fault? I am a bit late and so I am responsible for your actions? I am the reason that this pantry is white with flour?" I glare at him and continue. "I don’t think so! Not this time, cousin! You are not putting this on me. You just decided to try and do something that you shouldn’t have and now instead of being sorry about it, you stand there looking like a snow hobbit and try to make me out to be the guilty party!"

He swallows and straightens to his full height, squinting at me with those bright green eyes that are currently surround by white and yells in his too high voice, "You’re never here when you say you’ll be anymore! You go off with the older lads to have a pint and leave me here waiting for you! You don’t care about your promises any more! You said you’d be here to help at two so we’d have a couple of hours before tea, but did you get here? No!" He folds his arms over his chest sending more flour into the air and making me cough which allows him to continue without interruption. "Now, we will never get the cake made and we won’t have anything for Frodo’s birthday! You can tell him why when he asks!"

I move toward him thinking to intimidate him with my height. I am now towering over him, well, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but I am taller than he is. Using this advantage, I move in and let him have it where I know it will hurt the most. "You are acting like a child, Peregrin. Where I go and when I decide to return is my own business. I am twenty-five now, you know."

His eyes are wide now and I can see him flush beneath the flour on his face. My words have had the desired effect. He fists his hands at his sides and says, "I know how old you are! I’m younger than you are, but I’m not stupid. I am also not the sort who breaks my promises and neglects to show up when I say I will."

Now, that was just completely uncalled for and I have no choice but to retaliate and so I do. "You’re just angry because you weren’t strong enough or tall enough to get that flour down by yourself. Admit it! You’ve made a complete mess of things because you are such a child!"

"I am not a child! I’m not and you know I’m not! You take that back right now or I’ll show you who’s not strong enough!" He is inches from me and has his pointed little nose in the air and is bobbing up and down in an effort to get in my face. "I ought to teach you some manners!"

I feel my eyes go wide with shock at this pronouncement and I lean into his face and growl in a low, and hopefully, menacing tone, "You want to watch what you’re doing, Pip Squeak or you’ll likely find yourself flat on your arse in this flour."

Unlike a sensible sort of hobbit who can see what he’s up against, he returns my look and says, "Try it!"

He could have said almost anything but that. That was a challenge if ever there was one and it leaves me with no choice in the matter. I pull back my fist and I punch him right in the stomach without any hesitation. He doubles over and sinks to his knees, clutching his mid-section. Then I feel his sharp teeth in my ankle. I hop out of his reach and yell, "You bit me! You bit me!"

He looks up at me and actually manages to grin. I rub my ankle and watch him get to his feet and dive on top of me sending us both crashing to the floor. He quickly grabs a hand-full of my hair and begins to pull with all of his strength. I reach up with my right hand and began to pull on his ear while hissing, "You fight like a lass."

"I’m winning so what does that say about you?" he yells and continues to attempt to scalp me, using both hands now. My eyes are watering from the pain and I pull his ear harder and roll him over on his stomach on the floor. His hands are still in my hair as I shove his face into the flour and plant my knee in his back. "Get off me, you big oaf!" he yells, losing his grip on my hair. I smile now because I have him pinned to the floor and I am free.

I relax slightly and sit down on his back letting my full weight settle on him. He claws at the floor trying to get free without success. The flour makes me sneeze. "Get up, Merry! Get up and fight fair!" he demands as he realizes his situation. "Get up you great, huge, coward!"

"What have I to fear?" I ask, punctuating my words by poking him in the ribs, gently. I don’t really want to hurt him, but I do have to remind him who is in charge. After all, I am the one that taught him to fight. I didn’t teach him that hair pulling nonsense, though. That must be the work of his older sisters.

"You’ll be sorry when I get up from here," he threatens as if he actually thinks that this is a possibility. I can’t help but be impressed with his cheek. He’s trapped but he continues to struggle.

"I’m waiting," I say and poke him in the ribs again. "Just when will I be sorry?’

He squirms and grunts, smacking his hands on the floor in frustration and then he gets very lucky. He reaches around and grabs a fist full of the hair on the top of my foot and yanks it hard. I howl in pain and roll off of him, clutching my foot. "You evil little Took!"

He pulls himself up to his feet and fairly slides out of the pantry on the flour as I continue to yell at him. I am now using words that my dear mum would have my hide for saying and which I won’t recount here. He is going to be very sorry now. I am just getting to my feet when I notice that the little devil is closing the door! I charge at it and am too late. Trapped in Frodo’s pantry by a skinny seventeen-year-old who can’t even remove a sack of flour from a shelf!

It is my turn to yell. I slam my shoulder into the door which he had bolted shut. "Open this door now, Peregrin Took!" I hear him snicker at me and I am all the angrier. "I am not joking! You open this door now!"

"Why don’t you make me, Merry?" he asks. "You are older and taller and stronger so this should be easy for you. Go ahead. I’ll wait right here."

I hit the door and begin to feel like a complete idiot. I am actually losing this fight! I never lose! This sort of thing happens to other hobbits, but not to me. I have always been big for my age. Half the Shire is afraid of me! "I am warning you, Peregrin, you don’t want to do this." I say this but I know that he does want to do this. He wants to do it very much. He is enjoying it.

"Why don’t I want to do this, Merry? What are you going to do? Should I be worried?" he asks. "Let’s consider this for a bit. I’m out here in the kitchen and you’re locked in the pantry. It seems to me as if I’m perfectly safe just at present. Am I missing something?"

I could kill him if I could get my hands on him. Never mind that this is the most embarrassing thing that has happened to me in some time, put that aside and I am still angry enough to break every bone in his skinny little body. "You’re going to be missing most of your teeth once I get to you!"

"That’s an ugly threat, cousin," he says. "I don’t think I want to listen to any more of this. I’m going out for a bit while you calm down."

I am livid and I am also at his mercy. He is threatening to leave me in here and go off to who knows where! "Pippin! Open this door now!"

He is laughing. "You must think I’m an idiot! Open the door? You’ll kill me!" He continues to laugh and then suddenly I hear another voice outside in the kitchen.

It’s our older cousin Frodo. This should be interesting. In fact, I plan to see to it that it is very interesting. "Frodo! Help! Thank the stars that you’ve come!" I say from the pantry.

"He was trying to kill me," I hear Pippin say and I realize that he is trying for the same results that I am, but I have the upper hand on this one.

"I did not! He made that up!" Pippin is livid now. "He’s lying to you, Frodo! I did not! He, he, he, he poured your flour on me and threatened to knock out all of my teeth!"

That was very quick of him and I am impressed. He is improving. But I am the master when it comes to this sort of thing and so I moan loudly as if in pain and smack my hand against the floor to make it sound as if I’ve fallen. "Ow, my head," I moan.

"Merry?" Pippin calls out, sounding worried. Even when he is angry with me, he can’t seem to hold onto it. "Do something, Frodo."

I hear the sound of the door being opened and I wait off to the side where they won’t see me. Frodo comes in first with Pippin close at his heels. "Merry? Where are you?" Frodo asks.

I cleverly step out from behind the door and glare at Pippin, pushing the door shut as I move. "I poured flour on you and threatened to knock out your teeth?" I hiss at him.

He backs up as I advance on him and says, "You did threaten to knock out my teeth." He backs into Frodo who is looking at me with a strange expression on his face that I can’t quite read. I pause in my efforts to kill my little cousin and stare at my older one.

"You just closed the door, didn’t you, Merry?" Frodo says, too calmly. I think about this but don’t seem to grasp the significance of it all just yet.

Pippin frowns and risks looking away from me and at Frodo. "Is something wrong?" he asks, turning his head to the side.

"Well, Peregrin," Frodo sighs, seating himself on the floor of the pantry in the flour which strikes me and Pippin as rather odd. "I think I heard the latch catch as the door closed. You did have it latched earlier when you were trying to prevent Merry from killing you, didn’t you?"

Pippin and I are looking at the door now and Pippin nods and says, "Yes, I did."

"Well, when Merry swung the door closed just now, I think the latch fell back into place," Frodo says.

Pippin turns to look at Frodo and says, "You mean that we’re locked in the pantry?"

"That’s exactly what he means," I say. Pippin rushes over and tries to push the door open just to make sure. He throws a shoulder against it and then turns to look at Frodo and I.

"Well, we could practice writing our names in this flour," Frodo says, sarcastically. "Or I could kill you both. I doubt that anyone would hold me accountable under the circumstances. I shall simply say that I panicked, lost my sense of reason, and had done the deed before I realized what had happened." He is smiling at Pippin who still isn’t sure if he’s being teased or threatened.

"You’re both mad, aren’t you?" Pippin asks, leaning against the door and frowning at us. Frodo and I both catch sight of his confused face covered in flour and burst out laughing.

"Aren’t you even going to try to get out of here?" Pippin demands as we continue to laugh. "We’re locked in, you know. All of us are in here together and so who is going to let us out? Aren’t you at all worried? We could starve to death in here!"

Frodo and I are trying to stop laughing and I manage to snort, ‘We are locked in the pantry, Pippin, you little arse. The food is in here with us."

He grins, embarrassed but relieved. ‘Well, then I suppose it’s alright, isn’t it?" He comes over and sits next to me and says, "Merry? I’m a wee bit sorry that I locked you in here before."

He smiles wider and says, "I was expecting that." He then leans over against my shoulder and I put my arm around him. Beside of us, Frodo is actually lighting his pipe and completely ignoring us.

"Happy birthday, Frodo," Pippin says in one of his sudden changes of subject. "We were going to bake you a cake, but it will have to wait now."

"We wanted to do something special for you," I say. It was what our original plan had been until we lost our tempers.

Frodo takes a puff on his pipe and says, dryly, "I am touched, but you shouldn’t have. I mean that, lads. You really shouldn’t have." Then Pippin and I laugh. I suppose that Sam will find us in here at some point and let us out but until then, it’s just the three of us and that’s fine.

"So, what sort of presents did you get us this year?" Pippin dares to asks Frodo. I love the lad’s nerve. I could never stay angry at him. I suspect that this little hobbit actually is my best friend, but I don’t plan to tell him that. I doubt that I have to because he probably knows.

"No fair cheating," Merry said, firmly, swatting his younger cousin on top of the head lightly. "Keep your feet flat on the floor and stop stretching your neck up like that. Just stand like you normally do or I can't tell."

Pippin frowned and lowered his head into its usual position. He reluctantly rested the heels of his feet on the floor and waited for Merry to begin his measuring. Standing still like this, was a very hard thing for Pippin to manage, but he did want to know how tall he was now. It had been an entire month since he'd managed to get anyone to measure him.

Merry sighed and lay the small wooden stick across his cousin's head so that it touched the wall behind him and then nodded at Pippin. "You can move now. I have it all lined up."

Merry was extremely proficient at this procedure now. He'd had plenty of practice. Pippin was always trying to get someone to measure him. Most of his relations tried to talk their way out of it because the results were, for the most part the same. Pippin seldom grew any taller. After all, there was hardly time between measurings for the lad to grow. Even Brandybucks didn't grow that fast.

Pippin was out from under the stick in one quick move. He was now looking hopefully over at Merry who was finishing his calculations. "Did I grow?" Pippin asked. "Did I, Merry? Am I taller yet? Because I think my feet come further down when I'm lying in my bed at night than they used to."

Merry smiled at this but said nothing. He was deciding how to proceed. Pippin was the same height that he had been last month. Merry wasn't surprised by this, but he knew that Pippin would be very disappointed. He was trying to decide if a small lie was in order. Sometimes, when dealing with younger cousins, you had to stretch the truth a bit to keep them happy.

Pippin was bitting his lower lip now. "I guess I was wrong and it's not very good news. I didn't grow any at all did I?"

"Well," Merry began, looking over at the anxious eleven-year-old. "you know that we only measured you just a month ago."

Pippin nodded his head and looked down at the floor. "I know," he said. "I wasn't any taller then either."

"What if I don't ever get any taller?" Pippin asked, genuinly worried. "What if I never grow any more than I have so far?"

Merry smiled. "You'll grow when the time is right. It's hard to wait, but before you know it, you'll start to shoot up. You're only eleven, Pip. It'd be a bit odd if you were much taller at your age. It'd be un-natural."

"Most of the lads my age are taller than me and they aren't un-natural," Pippin objected. "This growing business takes a very long time and I don't think I'm very good at it."

"Maybe if you relax and enjoy yourself more and don't worry about it so much then you'll grow," Merry suggested. "I think you're using up too much energy worrying. It doesn't leave any energy for growing."

Pippin considered this bit of rather lop-sided wisdom for a moment and then sighed deeply. "I need to speak to Gandalf. Do you suppose that he'll come to the Shire again soon?"

"I suspect that he will come to visit Bilbo and Frodo before too long," Merry said. You could never tell when the wizard might stop by so anything was possible. "Maybe for Bilbo's and Frodo's birthdays."

"I can ask him to make me a magic drink of some sort, like a tonic only stronger," Pippin said, brightly.

"Something to make me grow," Pippin explained. "I need something that will speed things up a bit, Merry. I'm getting behind and I need to catch up."

Merry laughed. "Pippin, I don't think Gandalf can make something that will help you grow. I don't think there is anything like that."

"I bet there is too, Merry," Pippin said in an insulted tone. "You don't know everything. There is something that will help me grow and all I have to do is find it."

"Well, when you do find it, let me know," Merry grinned and he reached over and mussed Pippin's curls. "I think that would be some sort of very powerful magic."

Pippin smiled over at his cousin. He and Merry were resting on a stone bench in Minas Tirith. They had been talking about home and sharing memories to pass the time while they waited for their older cousin, Frodo to join them. "See, I was right. Admit it, Merry."

Merry looked over at him and frowned trying to decide what this new turn in their conversation was about. Talking to Pippin was a bit like traveling down a winding road in a wagon with no way to steer. You were constantly going off the road and into the woods without warning. "Admit you were right about what?"

Pippin stood and grinned even wider. "I knew all along that there was some sort of tonic that would help me grow. I just didn't know how much trouble it was going to be to locate."

Merry smirked as he remembered how Pippin had pestered Gandalf at Bilbo's one-hundred and eleven-ty-first birthday party. The small Took had chased after the wizard trying to get him to concoct some sort of tonic to make him taller. Finally, Merry had come to the wizard's rescue by taking Pippin off in search of mischief. "I guess you were right, Pip, but was it worth all of this trouble just for you to grow a few inches?" Merry teased.

Pippin sighed and patted Merry on the top of his head. Merry was still sitting down, but Pippin wanted to stress his point at bit. "No, but I do think it was awfully rude of Gandalf to lie to me all of these years, don't you? After all, he knew Treebeard and so it just makes sense that he knew about the Ent Draught. I mean, he could have told me."

Merry laughed. "Somehow, I don't think anyone in the Shire was ready for a four foot tall eleven-year-old."

Pippin grinned. "Maybe not, but I do think he should have told me. It just would have been the honest thing to do."

This story takes place in Gondor and in The Shire. Just a bit of silliness in which Merry , Frodo, and Pippin remember an incident when Pippin was 8 and Merry was 16. Sam is hearing the story for the first time.

Oh, fine!” Pippin pouted as Merry, Frodo, and Sam returned way after dark, grinning and talking. They had found Pippin sleeping earlier after his first full day back on duty as a knight of Gondor. Their young friend was only recently recovered from the injuries that he had sustained during a battle with a mountain troll. Deciding that the rest would do Pippin good, they had covered him with a blanket and left him to sleep while they went in search of supper. Pippin was leaning on the door frame now in his night shirt and giving them all his best sorrowful look. “I guess you all had a wonderful evening without me.” He now folded his arms over his chest and looked at the floor.

Merry and Frodo laughed and Sam shook his head. “You need a new injured look, Pip. That one is starting to fail you,” Merry informed him, walking into the room and dropping into one of the chairs near the fireplace.

Pippin scowled at Merry and continued, “I woke up on my bed in the dark, no less, and no one was here. No note, nothing,” Pippin accused and now he was glaring at Frodo.

“Don’t tell me that a knight of Gondor such as yourself is afraid of the dark, Pippin,” Frodo said, trying to look shocked, and joining a smirking Merry by the fire.

“I am not afraid of the dark, but it simply isn’t polite is all,” Pippin frowned. “I was never afraid of the dark.”

“No, that wasn’t you. You weren’t afraid of the dark, or thunder storms, or Mistress Bracegirdle’s chickens, or-“

“It’s bad enough that you leave me here alone in the dark to starve,” Pippin sniffed. “Now, you insult me? I was not afraid of those chickens.”

Merry and Frodo were laughing and Sam was grinning. “I don’t think I know this story, the one with the chickens, I mean,” Sam said, looking interested and settling himself into one of the over-sized chairs in their rooms.

“Oh, Pippin never told you about the time-“ Merry began and Pippin rushed over and tried to put his hand over Merry’s mouth.

“Merry, no,” Pippin pleaded, as the two fell to wrestling on Merry’s chair. Merry was trying to be careful of Pippin's newly healed injuries, but they were wrestling all the same.

“I don’t tell it as well as Merry does, Sam, but since Merry seems to be busy at the moment, I might be persuaded to give it a try,” Frodo said, as Merry wrapped his arms around Pippin’s chest pinning his younger cousin’s arms firmly to his sides. Pippin, who was now sitting on the floor with Merry crouched behind him continued to struggle.

“Come on now, Peregrin,” Merry said. “You are a knight of Gondor and I am only poor a knight of Rohan. You should be able to escape.”

“You surprised me,” Pippin complained. “Also, I think you’re cheating.” Pippin continued to struggle, but Merry was holding fast.

“Cheating? How am I cheating?” Merry laughed. “Do I seem to be cheating to you, Sam?”

“Not as I can see, Mister Merry,” Sam admitted. “Of course, I don’t know much about what’s proper for knights and such as I am just a poor gardener.”

Frodo laughed, and Pippin broke into a grin in spite of himself. “Fine, embarrass me to death if you must, but get this wicked Brandybuck off of me.”

Merry laughed and released his hold on his younger cousin. He then resumed his seat in the over-sized arm chair, leaving Pippin on the floor. Pippin slid over and leaned his back against Merry chair and sighed. “I don’t know why I speak to any of you.”

“Probably because no one else in all of Middle Earth can put up with you, which is largely my fault and Frodo’s fault,” Merry admitted.

“You don’t plan to sit there and say that you had no part in the spoiling of this knight of Gondor, do you?” Merry asked, raising an eyebrow.

“So, which of you two spoilers is tellin’ the story of the chickens?” Sam asked as Pippin blushed and averted his eyes.

“I think Merry should do it as it was his fault that the incident even happened,” Frodo said.

“It needs telling because it keeps you from becoming too big for your breeches,” Merry said.

“I am afraid that the Ent draughts have already made me too big for them, but you can try to keep me from getting any bigger if you like,” Pippin smiled.

“But our chickens at home don’t do that, Merry,” the eight-year-old lad frowned up at his older cousin. “I would have noticed that.”

“Well, Mistress Bracegirdle’s chickens are a bit different from your family’s chickens, Pip,” Merry said. “They do it all of the time.”

“I don’t believe you,” Pippin said. “Chickens don’t run after you unless you’ve got feed for them. Then all you have to do is drop it and they just eat. They aren’t dangerous and they don’t bite. I don't think they have teeth, Merry. They will fly at you now and again, but if you know what to do then you're fine.” The youngster was quite serious. “I live on a farm, you know. Pervinca was flogged by one once, but they can't kill you."

“I know you live on a farm,” Merry said, bending down and looking the child in the eye. “That is why I find it so hard to believe that you, of all hobbits, have never heard about this sort of thing happening with chickens.” Merry’s tone was quite serious and he seemed a bit shocked by Pippin’s lack of knowledge. Pippin began to wonder about this. He didn’t want Merry to think he was stupid, but he just didn’t know anything about attacking chickens.

“I don’t know, I might have heard something,” Pippin said, frowning. Maybe he should pretend to know about this in order to keep from being teased. Merry was bad to tease and he didn’t let up on you once he found something to tease you about. “My papa may have said to watch out for chickens, once.”

“I’m sure he did and you just don’t remember it,” Merry said. “Most lads even younger than you are have heard that story about the hobbit lad who was eaten alive by attacking chickens.”

“Well, I guess your folks thought you were too little to be told,” Merry said, getting to his feet and starting to walk away. “We better get back to the hall as it’s nearly tea time.”

With a last nervous glance at the chickens in Mistress Bracegirdle’s yard, Pippin charged after him. “I’m not too little. Tell me, Merry. Tell me about that lad and the chickens.”

“I really shouldn’t, Pippin,” Merry frowned. “Why if your folks or mine found out, they’d hang me for sure. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“But, I won’t tell, Merry,” Pippin pleaded. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise, please?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It wasn’t funny,” Pippin objected while the others continued to grin at him.

“Oh, yes it was,” Merry laughed. “You see, I had this bet with Fredegar Bolger that I was trying to win. I had told Fredegar that I could get Pippin to believe anything that I told him, no matter how fantastic it was. Fredegar made the mistake of doubting my skills.”

“So, to prove his skills, he tried to frighten the life out of an eight-year-old,” Pippin said, sighing.

“Well, not right off,” Merry said. “I had to build it up a bit, because he wasn’t stupid, just too trusting.” Merry mussed Pippin’s hair and Pippin swatted at him.

“I let him beg for the story for a few days,” Merry said. “It was brilliant, really. He followed me around and asked me to tell him the chicken story, but I wasn’t giving in. That made it seem more like a real, forbidden story.”

“You don’t need to know this, Pip. It would keep you awake nights,” Merry said, as the two of them sat in the library of Brandy Hall watching it rain. Merry was holding a book of children’s stories on his lap and Pippin was sitting beside of him. “Why don’t you let me read you a story that little lads are supposed to enjoy?”

Pippin jumped down from the sofa and glared at Merry. “I am old enough to hear that story and I don’t want to hear any little children’s stories. That’s what Pearl always reads to me because she thinks I’m a baby and I’m not a baby, Merry,” Pippin assured him. “How will you feel if something happens to me because you wouldn’t tell me bout those chickens?”

“What if, when I get home, our chickens do something to me? I won’t know how to stay safe if you don’t tell me anything,” Pippin said, seriously.

Well, when you put it that way, I suppose that I should tell you,” Merry gave in. “I would never want to see you hurt. I suppose I can tell you for your own safety.” Merry put aside the story book and Pippin crawled back onto the sofa next to him.

“This happened a long time ago, when my father was about your age,” Merry began. “He had this friend, a lad named Toffin and they played together all the time. Toffin was a bit like you are in that he was sort of small for his age.”

“I’m not small,” Pippin objected and then he asked, “Did he have hair the same color as mine?”

“I don’t know. That wasn’t mentioned,” Merry said. “Anyway, one day my father and Toffin were playing near Mistress Bracegirdle’s chicken yard. It was her folks chicken yard at that time because she was a little lass then.”

Merry looked into the serious, rather nervous face of his trusting younger cousin and almost decided against this. Almost.

“Well, Toffin wasn’t afraid of anything,” Merry said. “He was very brave, poor lad, and he was teasing the chickens with a stick. He was waving it at them and they got angry. Papa told him to quit, but he wouldn’t stop. He just kept doing it because he thought it was funny. The chickens were getting angrier and angrier and soon there were all kinds of them closing in all around Toffin.” Merry paused and looked at Pippin seriously. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

Pippin swallowed and then nodded. He inched closer to Merry on the sofa and bit his lower lip.

“The chickens began to close in all around him so that he couldn’t get out of the middle of them and papa got awfully worried and so he ran to the Bracegirdle’s door and knocked and knocked, but no one answered. Suddenly, he could hear this terrible screaming behind him and he turned and the chickens had knocked Toffin down and were attacking him. Toffin was screaming something fierce and so papa began to knock harder and to scream too, but no one ever came, not until it was too late.” Merry sighed and shook his head. “It was too late to save poor, unfortunate, Toffin and Papa never forgot it.”

Pippin was as pale as a ghost. “Poor Uncle Doc. Did the they kill those chickens?”

“No, that’s the odd part, Pip,” Merry said. “No they kept them and they continued to raise them so I suppose that some of those killer chickens might be the parents of the chickens that the Bracegirdles have now. That’s why you have to stay away from those chickens. Now promise me.”

Pippin nodded and tried to find his voice, “I-I-I promise, M-Merry. I won’t go near those bad c-chickens.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam and Frodo were laughing and Pippin was blushing. “Well, I was only eight.”

“He was scared to death of them all summer,” Merry said. “And Fredegar had to give me three whole Shire pennies and a pouch of old Toby.”

“It worked really well until Uncle Doc found out,” Pippin smiled, over-coming his embarrassment.

“No?” Pippin smiled. “That’s my favorite part. If you don’t want to tell it, then I will.”

“Fine, tell it, but you don’t look too bright in this bit either,” Merry reminded him.

“I think we should get some, Sara,” Esmeralda said, as Merry and Pippin came into the kitchen.

“I don’t know, Esme,” Saradoc said. “They can be a lot of trouble and the dogs might not leave them alone. We wouldn’t want the dogs chasing them.”

“Well, of course now, but having the eggs would save us considerably,” Esmeralda said, and then she smiled at her son and his younger cousin. “I suspect that you lads will be wanting lunch.”

“What are you going to get?” Pippin asked, frowning. He had heard the mention of eggs and he was now a bit worried.

“Well, I thought it’d be nice if we had some chickens about the place like you do at home. I thought that the Bracegirdles might sell us a few to start us out. We get most of our eggs from them,” Esmeralda said, and watched as all of the color drained out of her young nephew’s face. “Pippin darling, what ever is the matter?”

“”Please don’t get any of those chickens, Aunt Esme, please?” Pippin begged, still very pale. “They’ll eat the poor dogs. Uncle Doc doesn’t like chickens either do you?” Pippin said, sympathetically, going over and hugging his Uncle.

Saradoc Brandybuck was often confused by the things that Pippin said and did but this was something new. “Now, Pippin, chickens don’t eat dogs.” He hugged his nephew and tried to reassure him even though he had no idea what the child was worried about.

Pippin tightened his grip on his uncle and looked up in shock. “I’m not a child, Uncle Doc. I know all about the chickens and about your poor friend.”

Saradoc fixed his son with a stern look and then bent down and picked up Pippin who was shaking all over. He sat the little hobbit on the edge of the kitchen table and said, “I know you’re not a child, Pippin. Why don’t you tell me what you’re afraid of?”

“I-I-I, well, you know,” Pippin said. “You saw it all and I know you don’t ever want any chickens. ‘Specially those ones that the Bracegirdles have. Not after what happened to your friend.”

“My friend?” Saradoc was completely puzzled by this, but he knew from the look on Merry’s face that his son most definitely had something to do with it. He turned back to Pippin and encouraged him. “Pippin, why don’t you tell me what you know and then maybe I might be able to make you feel better about it all?”

“I don’t think you should listen to any of this, papa,” Merry objected. “Pip is only teasing you, aren’t you Pip?”

Saradoc looked over at the tear-streaked face of his nephew and frowned. “I don’t think Pippin is teasing me, Meriadoc. Go ahead and tell me what you’re worried about, Pippin.”

Suddenly as if a dam had burst somewhere, Pippin began to pour out the entire story of little Toffin and how he’d been eaten by killer chickens. Saradoc’s eyes widened as the story continued and Merry slowly began to attempt to back out of the kitchen while Pippin had his father’s full attention. Esmerelda Brandybuck caught her son by the scruff of his neck and held him in place. “Oh, no you don’t, Meriadoc,” she hissed.

“So, Merry told you this story, did he?" Saradoc asked, handing Pippin his handkerchief.

Pippin blew his nose loudly and then said, “He didn’t want to, but he had to so I’d be safe, Uncle Doc. Don’t be mad at Merry. He only told me for my own good. He didn’t want me to be eaten by those chickens, did you Merry?” Pippin looked over at Merry.

Right now, Merry thought that it might not be a bad idea if chickens ate Pippin. He knew that he was in a great deal of trouble no matter what he said at this moment. “No, Pip, I don’t want you to be eaten by chickens," he muttered.

“So, you were trying to save your little cousin’s life, were you, Meriadoc?” Saradoc asked, arching an eyebrow. “You were concerned for him and so, even though you knew it might give him nightmares and make him nervous, you graciously agreed to tell him this terrible story.”

Merry groaned as Pippin smiled over at him, proudly. His father glared at him and then said, “I think maybe you and I might need to have a private conversation about your concern for Pippin.”

“Yes, if this is the way that you are planning to protect Pippin, then I think we need to discuss it in my study,” Saradoc said, grimly. “Esme, darling, why don’t you give Pippin some lunch and see if you can straighten this out while I reward our dear Meriadoc for his recent behavior?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam laughed. “I would be willin’ to bet that you got the seat o’ your breaches worn clean through for that one, Mister Merry.”

“He couldn’t sit down for a week,” Frodo laughed. “I had just come for a visit and Merry spent the first week that I was there standing and the next two weeks cleaning the barn.”

Merry grinned, a bit embarrassed. “I also had to pay back the Shire pennies to Fredegar and buy him some old Toby.”

“I bet you didn’t speak to him for a long time after that did you, Mister Pippin?” Sam asked, winking at Mister Frodo.

Pippin sighed, “I was an idiot, Sam. I tried to sneak out and help him clean the barn.”

Merry leaned over and kissed Pippin on top of the head. “Poor little hobbit was a bit attached to me.”

“Like I said, I was an idiot,” Pippin grinned. “Apparently, I still am because I can’t seem to stay mad at any of you for deserting me the way you did.”

Frodo laughed, “There’s a basket of food for you on the table over there if that will get us back into your good graces.”

A while back I wrote a story called "Many Happy Returns" which was filled with lots of little birthday stories. There are a few referrences to that story in this one, but nothing that would make it necessary to have read "Many Happy Returns" before reading this one. Like all of the other stories in this group, this is a one chapter tale that stands on its own.

This was starting to hurt a bit. The pressure on his wrists was cutting off the feeling in his fingers. Every time he tried to get to his feet the rug slid out from under him and left him back where he had been before. That crazy Brandybuck was responsible for this and if he managed to get out of this mess, he would repay him twice over.

It had been a very disagreeable day all around. It had been raining off and on since they’d arrived. Everything was wet and mud was everywhere. This was his first visit back to the Great Smials in several months. He and Merry had been living in the little house in Crickhollow. Their last visit had been for Pippin’s thirtieth birthday. During that trip to the Great Smials, Merry had been seriously injured and had spent most of the visit in bed.

He and Merry had come to the Great Smials to spend several weeks visiting his family. It was his sister Pervinca’s birthday tomorrow and they were planning a very large party. Everyone at the Smials was busy with decorating and cooking. Merry had other things on his mind and so Pippin had followed his older cousin out to the barn to watch Merry work on his latest experiment.

Merry was constantly trying to make something from those blasted herbs and plants that he was always fussing with. The latest effort was paste of all things. Merry had been working on this concoction for weeks before they left Crickhollow. He had even brought all of his notes and his ingredients with him. Pippin had teased his cousin about becoming fixated on this latest effort. Merry had been less than amused with the teasing. Merry was serious about this one. He was attempting to make a paste that would hold wood together. Pippin couldn’t really see the point.

Nails or studs worked just fine, but Merry had just given one of those long-suffering sighs of his and continued to work.

This morning Merry had wanted to go out to the barn and try the latest batch of paste out on some wood. He said that if it worked, he could make a doll’s house for Pippin’s nieces. He said he could cut the wood, paste it together and it would be strong but safer because there would be no sharp nails that might poke through and injure small fingers. Pippin had been quick to point out that if one got the nails in properly, then none of them should be sticking out where small fingers could touch them. This pronouncement had been met with a snort of disgust.

Pippin shifted his feet a bit, desperately trying to find something firm to use for leverage but once again the rug slid out from under him and he winced. Merry was in big trouble for this! Why was this paste working now when it had fallen apart outside? He groaned and shifted his feet again.

"Come on, Merry," Pippin had chuckled. "You have to admit that it was sort of funny."

"You think it’s funny that something that I’ve worked on for weeks just falls apart in my hands?" Merry demanded. "Do you think that all of the effort that I have made on this was just so you could have a good laugh?"

Pippin snickered. "Well, no, but since it worked out that way, there’s no sense in denying it, is there?"

Merry whirled around and glared at Pippin. "I don’t know why I ever expect you to understand anything of importance. This is something that could be very useful and so naturally, it means nothing to you."

"What’s that suppose to mean?" Pippin shot back, now not very amused. "Are you trying to say that I don’t understand important things?"

"If something is true, then it’s best to accept it," Merry said, and then turned to walk away.

Pippin was not going to let his cousin get the last word and so he hurried to follow him. "I understand plenty of important things, Merry. I just don’t think that this paste of yours is important."

Merry turned the corner and went down a lesser-used hallway of the Smials, walking quickly. He held fast to the small bucket in his right hand. "That is because it isn’t something you can drink, eat, or amuse yourself with, Peregrin Took!"

Pippin followed after him and called out, "It also isn’t anything that I can use as paste! It doesn’t work, Merry!"

Merry turned into a rather large parlor and sat his small bucket of paste mixture on the table. He turned to face Pippin. "Fine! It doesn’t work all of the time, but it works some of the time. What successful sorts of helpful items have you recently made?"

Pippin sighed, "Merry, that isn’t even useful." He pointed to the bucket as he said this. "You don’t need it. We have nails. We have studs. We don’t need to glue wood together." He waved his arms about trying to make his older cousin see reason.

Merry sighed. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the large table behind him. "If I can get this paste to work properly, it can be used to make delicate items like little carved boxes that are hard to secure together without ruining the thin wood. It could be used to paste things together like dishes. You can’t nail a broken dish back together."

"You really do think I’m wasting my time, don’t you?" Merry said, looking a bit injured. He straightened his waist-coat and moved around the large table.

"Well, yes," Pippin admitted. "Instead of trying to make paste with those herbs of yours, why don't you use them for cooking like most folks do, or you could make a tonic with them." He didn’t want to hurt Merry’s feelings but he really didn’t see any point in this paste. "I think you should forget about this and enjoy our visit. Pervinca’s party tomorrow will be great fun. There will be food and dancing and a great many hobbits that we’ve not seen for a while will be there. You could be enjoying yourself. Estella is coming. Sam and Rose will be here. Frodo will even be coming and just lately, he doesn’t come to very many parties. You will be fussing over this paste instead of having a good time with our friends and family."

"This room?" Pippin frowned, a bit startled by the change of subject. "This is just an old parlor that is mostly used to store this great, huge, oak table in."

"I don’t think I’ve ever been in here before now," Merry admitted. "It’s a nice old table. I like the carvings on the legs of it."

Pippin wasn’t sure where this was going, but Merry had quit yelling and so it must be an improvement. Also, it didn’t seem to have anything to do with the ridiculous paste. "The table was a wedding gift for my Great Aunt Sapphire’s marriage to one of the North Tooks ages ago. It was hand-carved by her father and brothers. It’s the heaviest table in all of the Smials because the wood is so thick and the legs are so large. We always just refer to it as the wedding table." Pippin ran a hand over the top of the table absently.

"Because, well, I have no idea why, Merry," Pippin admitted. "It’s always been here as long as I can remember. Is this important in any way at all?" He was becoming confused by Merry’s sudden interest in the furnishings of the room.

Merry smiled. "Everything is important in one way or another, Pippin. Take this table for an example. You see these carvings on the legs?" Merry bent down and ran his hand over the delicate flower pattern.

"They are quite lovely and also they would be hard to duplicate, don’t you think?" Merry said, straightening up and laying a hand on the table top.

"What if a piece of the wood were to become chipped from the leg of the table?" Merry asked.

"Well, I suppose it would be ruined if it were a large enough chip," Pippin said.

"Not if you were able to paste the piece of wood back into the leg!" Merry fairly yelled. He leaned close to Pippin and forcing his younger cousin’s back against the table. "If it were to become chipped, then you couldn’t nail it back because the nail would break the wood further and do even more damage. You couldn’t use a stud to hold it in place., But, if you could paste it back, matching up the edges of the break exactly, then it would be as if it had never been damaged. You could save this fine old piece of Took family history and preserve it for future foolish dolts like yourself to enjoy."

Merry turned and walked over to the bucket of paste with its brush sticking our of the top and patted the side of it. "That is what this paste might be able to do with a bit of work."

Pippin sighed and put his hands on the table top. He glared at Merry. "I am not a foolish dolt! And that is not paste!"

Merry strode over to him quickly and pulled the brush out of the container and waved it about. "This is most assuredly paste. It did hold those pieces of wood together in the barn for a bit. I don’t know why they came apart as we were bringing them back to the Smial, but this paste did work!"

"Paste that only works for a while, is not good paste!" Pippin shouted, growing tired of Merry’s attitude. He was also sick to death of hearing about this paste.

Merry glared at him and then, without any warning at all, he took the brush and made a generous swipe across the top of the table near the edge. "Are you out of your noggin’? This is a family heirloom!" Pippin objected as Merry ran the brush back over the same spot on the table a second time.

Merry ignored him and dunked the brush into the bucket and left it there. He then reached over and took hold of Pippin’s hands and pressed them into the wet paste. "So, this isn’t paste? It’s not worth the effort? It has no practical use?"

Pippin struggled to free himself from Merry’s grip. "Let me go! Have you gone completely insane or are you just on your way around the bend?"

"I am proving a point," Merry said, still pressing Pippin’s palms into the paste.

"You are making an idiot of yourself and ruining the wedding table," Pippin said. "Now let go of me. We need to clean this mess up before we’re both tossed from the Smial for destroying an heirloom!"

Merry continued to hold Pippin’s hands in place. "It drys rather quickly and so there won’t be a mess. I also doubt that anyone will come and toss us out because they are all in another part of the Smial getting ready for your sister’s party tomorrow."

"Merry!" Pippin said, kicking at his cousin’s leg and missing. "You are pasting my hands to this table!"

"How can I be doing that, Pippin?" Merry asked, wide-eyed. "You said this wasn’t paste, remember? At the worse, I am just getting you and the table a bit sticky."

Pippin stopped struggling and looked over at Merry. "Fine! If this will prove anything at all to you, then go ahead and try to paste my hands to this table!"

They stared at each other fiercely, each one trying to look more menacing than the other. Merry continued to hold Pippin hands to the table top but Pippin had quit trying to free himself from Merry’s grip. The two stubborn cousins stood there for several more minutes. Then Merry let go of Pippin and said, "Now we shall see who is wasting his time." With that, he took a step back from the table and began to watch Pippin intently.

Pippin eyed him and sighed, "Merry, I don’t want you to be unhappy but I also don’t want you to waste your time on-" Pippin stopped speaking and looked down at his hands. He couldn’t move them. He began to make more of an effort to free himself but it wasn’t working.

Merry watched in amusement from the other side of the table. "You were saying, Pippin?"

"I, uh, I, well, "Pippin said, and continued to try and get his hands off of the table.

"Well, whatever is wrong now? Why don’t you stop leaning on that table and say what you mean?" Merry’s grey-blue eyes twinkled with mischief as he watched Pippin struggle.

"I’m stuck!" Pippin said. "Merry, I can’t get my hands off of the table!" Pippin was now looking over at Merry with a trace of panic in his eyes.

"That’s not possible, Pippin," Merry said. "I mean, all I put on the table was this stuff here in this little bucket and you said yourself that it isn’t paste and it doesn’t work. Don’t’ tease me." Merry was grinning.

"Merry, this isn’t funny!" Pippin objected, squirming about and trying to extract himself from the table top.

"Well, I don’t suppose that you are doing this to give me a good laugh, but as it has worked out that way, then why deny it?" Merry snorted, throwing Pippin’s earlier words back at him.

Pippin’s face was turning red with his efforts to free his hands and with his growing anger at Merry. "Get me out of this!"

"Why I should think you’d have no trouble at all getting out of it yourself," Merry said. "The paste doesn’t work. It isn’t as if I’ve nailed you to the table or anything." He picked up the bucket of paste and started for the door.

"Merry! Merry, don’t leave me here," Pippin pleaded. "I’m sorry, alright? You win. It’s paste, Merry, it truly is! Just get me loose!"

Merry stopped for a moment and looked back in amusement at Pippin. His younger cousin was trying to twist his hands off of the table and having no success what so ever. "I am through being teased, Pippin," Merry said. "I am taking my paste and leaving. You can do as you like."

"Meriadoc Brandybuck, you come back here!" Pippin shouted. "Get me loose! Merry, so help me if you don’t come back here right now, I’m going to be very angry!"

Merry chuckled to himself. "What you are going to be, my dear Pippin is stuck," he said, softly.

Pippin could hear Merry laughing as he walked down the hall. Pippin had been left on his own. He was stuck to this very heavy, very enormous, oak table. He had tried to move it, hoping to get it closer to the door in order that he might use the door frame as leverage to pull himself free. The table had been too heavy and he hadn’t been able to move it an inch. His hands were not in the right position for pushing to begin with. Both of his hands were flush down on the table top right next to the edge, fingers spread out like fans.

When his efforts to move the table had failed, he had tried to brace his feet against a table leg and push himself loose, but this hadn’t worked either. He had yelled for help, but as Merry had suspected might be true, no one was around to hear him. He wasn’t too sure he wanted to be found in the far parlor with his hands stuck to Great Aunt Sapphire’s wedding table, but he also wanted out of this mess. He didn’t know if Merry intended to come back anytime soon and he was likely to miss lunch. He could just imagine Merry sitting down to a nice meal while he stood here in front of an empty table.

His next effort to get free from Merry’s paste put him in an even worse fix. He decided to use his weight to pull his hands loose and had lifted his feet off of the floor and swung himself under the table in one quick motion. Now, he was unable to get back out. His hands were still stuck fast to the table and his feet kept sliding on the rug when he tried to climb out. He was hanging here, hands on the table, feet slipping out from under him on this blasted rug, and he had run out of ideas.

Why wasn’t this paste coming loose like it had outside? Merry had pasted some boards together in the barn and had become excited when they seemed to be holding. He had grabbed them up and he and Pippin had started through the drizzling rain toward the Smials with Merry in a state triumph. Just a few feet shy of the front door, the boards had snapped apart. Merry had been very frustrated. So, why was this infuriating paste holding so well now? Pippin kicked at the rug which continued to slide.

"What are you doing?" a female voice asked from somewhere near the door. Pippin could see feet and the bottom of a violet-colored skirt, but nothing more.

"I seem to be in a bit of trouble here," Pippin managed, moving his feet and feeling the rug continue to slide.

The lass moved into the room and leaned down to peer under the table at Pippin. "You do seem to be having a bit of trouble. What, exactly, are you trying to do?"

Pippin looked toward what he hoped was his rescuer and turned bright red. There, leaning over, looking at him, and smiling, was Diamond Took! Of all the hobbits in all of the Shire that he least wanted to find him, she was at the top of the list. "I, uh, I, well, I’m trying to get out from under this table," Pippin mumbled, completely embarrassed. He watched as she studied him in amusement with her large, dark eyes.

She stood and moved over to the place on the table where his hands were pasted. "Could you use some help, then?" she asked, with a trace of a giggle in her voice.

"If you wouldn’t mind helping me straighten up. This rug seems to go on forever and it won’t hold still," Pippin said, weakly.

She giggled again and then he felt her take hold of his shoulders. "I’m standing on the rug now. That should hold it in place. I think if you and I pull together, I can get you out," she said, snickering.

Pippin carefully placed his feet on the rug and was relieved when it stayed where it was. He inched backward as Diamond pulled. Slowly, he managed to gain his feet. Once he was standing in his original position, he sighed and bent his extremely sore arms at the elbows, flexing them a bit.

"Thank you, very much," Pippin said, looking down at his reflection in the polished wood and feeling like a complete fool. Why did he always embarrass himself in front of this lass? Why was he constantly looking like a ninny when she was around? He could feel his palms sweating against the table.

Diamond moved from behind him to the side of the table and looked down at his reflection also. "So, I suppose you’re stuck to this table, aren’t you?" she said, lightly.

"Well, it’s paste of a sort," Pippin said. "My infernal cousin, Meriadoc made it." He still was unable to look her in the eye. The first time he’d seen her had been at his thirtieth birthday party. He’d been struck by how very lovely she was from the moment he’d seen her. He had then proceeded to embarrass himself several times in front of her during the evening. He had finally managed to dance with her and if he were honest with himself, he would have to admit that he had thought a great deal about her since then. Now, here he was, looking like an idiot in front of her again. He would kill Merry for this. He would kill Merry if he didn’t die of embarrassment before he got the chance.

Pippin could see her reflection in the table top. She was, without exception, the single most lovely hobbit lass that he had ever laid eyes upon in all of his life. He swallowed. "Yes, he is very clever. We’re all very proud of him," Pippin sighed sarcastically pulling at his hands, nervously and continuing to sweat.

"Why did he paste you to the table? Or did he?" Diamond asked, leaning forward in an effort to look Pippin in the eye. She had been intrigued by him since his birthday party and he was extremely cute. He wasn’t at all what she had expected. He was sweet and a bit shy with a darling sense of humor. She had expected the Thain’s son to be very formal and proper and maybe even a bit of a snob. Peregrin Took was none of those things. She was terribly amused by his current predicament.

He raised his head and turned his blushing face toward her. "I think he may be a bit angry with me. I didn’t think that his paste worked very well and so I told him that. I was wrong and it was the wrong thing to say," Pippin said.

"So it would seem, "Diamond giggled. He was even cuter than she’d remembered. "I should have counted on some excitement when I agreed to come to the Great Smials with my family to celebrate your sister, Pervinca’s birthday. You Tooks here at the Great Smials do the most interesting things." She was remembering her last visit during which he’d managed to douse her with water while bobbing for apples.

"We try our best," Pippin said, wrinkling his nose a bit. At least, he thought glumly, I haven’t poured anything on her this time.

Pippin nodded. "Why do you suppose that always happens when you’ve no free hands to scratch with?" He laughed, nervously and wrinkled his nose again.

Diamond reached over and gently scratched his nose for him and smiled. "I don’t know, but it does, doesn’t it?"

Pippin felt the air going out of his lungs. Diamond North Took of Long Cleeve was touching his nose. The lass who’s very name made him blush was scratching his nose. He swallowed and shifted his feet a bit as a very large butterfly took flight in his stomach. "Thank you," he managed to whisper.

She laughed, not unkindly. "How do we get you out of this? You seem to be stuck to the wedding table." Apparently, Diamond knew the history of this piece of furniture also and why not, after all? His Great Aunt Sapphire Took had married a North Took. The table was a part of her family’s history also.

"Oh, I have no idea," Pippin said, pulling back from the table as far as he was able to, arms stretched out in front of him. "It seems to be very good paste after all. Merry will be thrilled at how well it’s working if he ever returns."

Diamond ducked her head down and stepped between him and the table. His heart went into his throat and stuck there. She was standing with her back to the table, facing him in between his arms. He could feel the bottom of her skirt brushing against his lower legs and she was looking up at him with those amazing eyes of hers. He couldn’t believe it. She reached up and put her hands on his shoulders and smiled. "Maybe if I pushed?"

"I said, maybe if I pushed," Diamond suggested. "I could put my back against the table and push against your shoulders. Maybe that would help."

Pippin gulped and nodded. He didn’t care if she hit him soundly on the head with a hammer at this point as long as she continued to look at him with those eyes. Just as long as she stood there between his arms with her hands on his shoulders, he really didn’t care what happened. Diamond pushed at that moment. She pushed hard, but Pippin’s hands didn’t move.

"Well, that doesn’t seem to help in the least," Diamond said, turning around to examine his hands.

Pippin leaned forward and inhaled. He could smell a hint of lavender in her dark curls. There, in the center of her hair, was a single white ribbon tied in a bow, just like the one he’d taken from her on his birthday when they’d been dancing. He still had that ribbon in a drawer in his room. As she leaned forward and began to tug gently on his hands, she backed into him and he longed to put his arms around her. He could hear her skirt rustling and her feet were touching his. He was going to explode from it all.

"You are most definitely stuck," Diamond said, having no idea what affect she was having on him at this moment. "I think maybe I should go for help, don’t you?" She spun around and bumped into his nose which had been against her hair.

"Ouch," Pippin said, surprised by her sudden motion and the pain it had caused him.

"Oh, I am so sorry," Diamond said, reaching up and rubbing the bridge of his pointed nose with her fingers. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m not helping very much, am I?" she laughed, her other hand on his shoulder.

"I’m fine," Pippin lied. His nose hurt and he was trying not to sneeze on her. She tilted her head back a bit more, raised up on her toes, and inspected his face critically.

"Are you sure?" she asked, and he could stand it no longer. Pippin didn’t even allow himself to think about it. He just leaned down to meet her and pressed his lips gently against hers.

Startled, but only slightly, Diamond tightened her grip on Pippin’s shoulder and leaned into the kiss. As she did so, Pippin increased the pressure and her lips parted slightly, deepening the kiss. She pressed her hips against the table and placed her other hand into his curls. They kissed rather passionately for two hobbits who had only met once before. Diamond pulled back slowly, looked at him and then leaned in for a second kiss. Being as she was the only one of them with free hands at the moment, she was in charge.

Pippin felt her lean all of her weight against him and tighten her grip on his shoulder. He could smell the lavender in her hair, feel the weight of her against him, and taste the sweetness of her lips. As she pulled away this time, Pippin found himself wanting to hold her but at this moment, that wasn’t possible. She smiled at him. "I wasn’t expecting that, Peregrin Took."

"I hope you didn’t mind too much," Pippin said. "I just couldn’t help myself. I suppose that if you want to slap me for my cheek, now is an excellent time. I am at your mercy."

"I rather like you this way," Diamond said, quietly and ran her fingers through his curls, letting her hands slide down onto his shoulders. "I also rather enjoyed the kiss." Having admitted this, she raised up on her toes again and put her lips on his. Pippin moved closer to her and kissed her again.

"Are you sure you don’t want me to go for help?" Diamond asked when they moved apart to breathe.

"I don’t think we need any help just now," Pippin said. "I happen to think that we’re doing just splendidly." He leaned over to kiss her again and she pressed into him, wrapping her arms around him. Suddenly, something happened and his hands snapped free of the table top, sending them both to the floor. Pippin landed with a thud on the rug and Diamond landed right on top of him.

Merry had been watching from the doorway and grinning. He watched as the two hobbits fell to the floor next to the wedding table. Diamond raised herself onto her palms which were on the floor on either side of Pippin’s head and giggled. Pippin had placed his hands on the small of her back and Merry could hear his younger cousin’s infectious laugh.

"That’s a shame really," Pippin said, softly and he meant it. "Maybe if I can find Merry and make him angry again he’ll paste me to the table a second time. I think, for the most part, that I enjoyed it. I am moving that infernal rug first."

Diamond giggled again and Merry slipped un-noticed from the room. He would have to tell Pippin about the paste later. He had finally figured out what caused it to come apart. When the rain had hit the boards, the paste had dissolved. It seemed that his paste didn’t work if it became wet. He had come, bringing a cup of water with him, to free Pippin and explain about the paste. He doubted that Pippin would be all that interested in his news at the moment. Perhaps he would tell him later.

As Merry turned the corner in the hall, he bumped into Estella Bolger who looked up at him and said, " Hello, Merry. Have you seen Pippin? His sisters are looking for him. Pearl would like him to help move some of the tables for the party." Merry suspected that Pearl would be very interested in what Pippin had managed to do with the table to which he’d been glued.

"I think he’s busy just now, but if you would like, I can help Pearl with the tables, " Merry smiled, linking an arm around her waist and leading her away from Pippin and Diamond. Pippin had been right after all. He should just forget about the paste and enjoy himself. From behind him, he heard the sound of Pippin’s laughter mingled with Diamond’s.

"Just what is Pippin busy doing?" Estella asked, turning her head toward the sound of Pippin's laughter.

"Oh, he’s just showing a friend Great Aunt Sapphire’s wedding table," Merry said. "Maybe later if you’d like, I can show you the table, Miss Bolger."

Estella looked at Merry and shrugged. She had no idea what was so special about a table, but if she could spend time with Meriadoc Brandybuck then she was willing to look at someone or other’s wedding table. "Merry?"

It had actually snowed! It never snowed while Pippin was in Buckland. For some reason he’d never been here with Merry when it had snowed. Pippin was fairly bursting with excitement at the prospect of a day out of doors with Merry in the snow.

He dressed hurriedly. Merry was already up and out of the room before Pippin woke up this morning. Maybe Merry was in the kitchen planning what sort of things they might do in all of that snow. It looked very deep from the window of Merry’s bedroom. Merry’s old uncle Albadoc had told everyone last night at supper that it was bound to snow. Old Albadoc could always tell because the cold made his joints ache. He always knew when it was snow weather. Pippin was sorry that Uncle Albadoc would have sore joints, but he was very happy about the snow.

Down in the library Merry and Frodo were studying several old maps that Frodo had brought with him. Merry had a smial full of visiting relations just now. Some of them were staying out the bad weather and others had come for his mum’s birthday which had been a few days before. No one wanted to brave a trip home in all of this and so everywhere one looked, there was a guest. Frodo had come for Merry’s mum’s birthday but he had brought all sorts of lovely maps with him.

Frodo knew how much Merry enjoyed looking at the maps. Frodo enjoyed it also. The two cousins could spend hours studying maps and finding new ways to get to and from various places though neither of them had ever been out of the Shire. "Someday," Merry would say and Frodo would nod in agreement. "Someday we will take a long trip and travel some of these roads that we’ve studied on these maps."

Both cousins were leaning over a large, oak table in the library and tracing roads with their fingers. Their heads were inches apart and their voices barely whispers as they spoke of the maps in almost reverent tones. Their heads were so close together that Frodo’s dark curls brushed against Merry’s blond ones. They had their backs to the door and so they were caught completely off guard when Pippin came racing into the room and called out. "There’s snow, Merry! Did you see?"

Frodo turned and smiled at his younger cousin. "Well, don’t you look a fright this morning, Pip."

"Hullo, Frodo, did you see the snow?" Pippin asked, ignoring the remark about his appearance.

"Yes, I did," Frodo said, looking back at the map. "I suppose that it will be with us for a few days. It’s too cold out for it to melt very much."

Pippin grinned even wider and came over to see what was holding his older cousins’s attention. He couldn’t imagine anyone having anything on their minds today other than snow. Well, maybe breakfast, but other than that, just snow. He reached the side of the table and looked at all of the maps covering it’s surface. A nasty twinge of unease settled into his stomach. Maps!

There was something about maps that Merry dearly loved. Pippin wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew that Merry found maps to be very entertaining. This could be a problem. "What are you looking at?" Pippin asked, tugging on Merry’s sleeve.

"This is a map of the Lonely Mountain and the roads that lead to it," Merry said. "Frodo and I were just plotting a course of travel from the Brandywine Bridge to the Lonely Mountain. We were trying to come up with a different way to reach them other than the way that Bilbo traveled."

"No, not today," Frodo laughed. "But it is nice to think about traveling later when Merry is older."

"When Merry is older then won’t you be too old to go, Frodo?" Pippin asked, trying to figure just how old Frodo might be when Merry came of age.

Merry snorted at this and grinned at Frodo. "Yes, cousin, maybe you had better leave soon before you become too old and dotty to travel about."

"Then I’m going too!" Pippin declared, looking from one cousin to another hopefully.

"If Frodo has to wait for you to grow up then he really will be too old to travel, Pip Squeak," Merry laughed.

Pippin scowled beneath his auburn tangle of curls. "I’m almost as old as you are!"

"Then why is it that you haven’t done a better job of dressing yourself?" Merry asked, turning from the map and surveying his little cousin with amusement. Pippin’s shirt was buttoned incorrectly and only partly tucked into his breeches and his braces were twisted in the back. His hair was uncombed and he looked as if he’d slept in everything that he was wearing.

Pippin looked down at his buttons and frowned. "Well, I was in a hurry because of the snow, Merry. I can fix it, but it really is good enough as I plan to put a coat on over it when I go out," Pippin explained.

"Yes, well, until then, let’s see if we can untangle your clothing and unsnarl your hair," Merry laughed. "You look frightfully like an abandoned hobbit child." Before Pippin could protest, Merry and Frodo began to redress him, undoing and redoing his buttons and untangling his braces while he fidgeted and complained that he could do it himself.

Finally the two older cousins had managed to make Pippin presentable. Pippin slipped back from them and pretended to re-straighten his shirt a bit. "You two are way too fussy," Pippin declared. "You remind me of Pearl and Nelly. you're always tucking things in and straightening stuff."

Frodo laughed. "I imagine that keeping you sorted out is a full time job for them."

Merry laughed too and Pippin blushed. "I look fine now and I’m ready to go out in the snow."

Merry turned back to the map and said, "Well, have a nice time and stay away from the river."

"I’ll be out later, Pip," Merry said. "Right now, Frodo and I are going to look at these maps for a bit. You go on and play with the other lads."

Frodo was already looking back at the maps again also. "You could look at those later since you won’t be going anywhere until you’re through growing up, Merry. You have plenty of time." Pippin said.

"Relax, Pip. Frodo said it won’t melt for several days. We have plenty of time," Merry assured him, still looking at the maps.

"But, Merry," Pippin said, knowing that his cousin was not going to be persuaded but needing to try anyway. "Don’t you want to see it?"

"I’ve seen snow before and I’ll see snow again," Merry said. Frodo didn’t say anything but he watched as Pippin turned and made his way out of the library, head down and hands jammed into his pockets.

Once the child had gone, Frodo turned to Merry. "Do you suppose that we should put this off for a few hours and go outside with him?"

"He’ll be fine, Frodo," Merry said, smiling. "He doesn’t sulk for very long. He’ll go out with some of the other lads from the Hall and I’ll play with him later. We just managed to get all of these maps spread out. It would be a shame to have to put them all away."

"Not all of the children will be out in the snow, Frodo," Merry said. "You’re forgetting that this isn’t Bag End. Anything can happen to these maps if we leave them unattended."

"I suppose you’re right," Frodo agreed. He certainly didn’t want anything to happen to Bilbo’s maps. Now that Bilbo had left the Shire, these maps were all the more treasured. It wasn’t likely that Frodo would ever have a chance to get Bilbo to draw any more maps. No, Merry was right about this at least. The maps should not be left unattended. "I think Pippin may be right. I might be getting too old to travel. I’m not using my hobbit sense. I am ready for a rocker at thirty-four."

Pippin made his way to the entry way and pulled his coat down from the hook. He’d go and have fun without them both! Silly old maps! Why couldn’t Bilbo have taken those things with him? Didn’t Bilbo need them to find his way to where ever it was that he went? Frodo and Merry didn’t need any old maps. They weren’t going anywhere. Only real Tooks left the Shire and Frodo was barely any Took at all and Merry was only half a Took! If anyone would be going anywhere later on, it would be him. He was a real Took.

"Just where do you think you might be off to?" Esmeralda asked coming up behind Pippin.

He turned to see her standing there with her hands on her hips and smiling at him. Now, Merry’s mum was a real Took. She might need a map someday, except he’d never heard of a lass, even a Took lass, traveling out of the Shire. "I’m going out into the snow."

"Not without the proper clothing, Peregrin Took. It’s cold and you’ll catch your death," Esmeralda warned.

"I have my coat," Pippin said, holding it out for her to see. "Why is everyone so fussy about what I’m wearing?"

"Come on and I’ll get you something warm to wear under the coat, and maybe a hat," Esmeralda said.

Pippin followed, still carrying his coat and hoped that she didn’t plan to put too many layers on him. Lasses seemed to think that lads needed far too many clothes in order to keep warm.

It had taken a while, but Pippin was finally pronounced ready to go out in the snow. His aunt had insisted on a second pair of trousers over his regular ones, two sweaters, his jacket, his scarf, a floppy old hat, and worst of all, mittens! Anyone looking at him would think that he had suddenly put on lots of extra weight! All of the layers were bulky and would, most likely, be in the way, but it did no good to argue with Aunt Esme. She always won. Sometimes you could win with Uncle Doc, but never with Aunt Esme.

Pippin stood out on the front stoop of the Hall and rubbed his nose with one mittened hand while looking across the lawn for other hobbit lads and lasses with which he could play in the snow. His Aunt had told him to stay close to the Hall and away from the river. She had also told him a great many other things but he hadn’t really been listening too closely. Sometimes Merry’s mum rattled on about nothing in particular and so he mostly just listened to the first parts and then ignored the rest.

In the distance, near some of the larger trees, he saw some of the lads near his age making a snow hobbit, but a bit further beyond them, he saw several of Merry’s friends dragging some sticks through the snow and heading off away from the Hall. The little ones would be there all day. He’d see them later. Pippin began to run as fast as he was able to in all of those clothes in the direction of Merry’s friends. He would catch up to them and see what they were doing.

Catching up to Merry’s friends had taken Pippin quite a while and left him nearly out of breath. The older lads had stopped by a wide steam and were discussing something. Puffing and gasping, Pippin joined them and looked up at Falco Boffin. "What you doing?" he asked, between gasps.

"How did you get down here?" Falco asked, leaning on his stick and frowning at Pippin.

"I had to run, but I made it," Pippin said, smiling, cheeks red from the wind beneath his floppy hat.

"Well, you best run on back up to that Hall before you get yourself into trouble," Falco said.

"I can watch my own self," Pippin said, wiping his nose with a mitten. "I’m allowed."

"She knows that you are down here by the pond with us?" Fredegar asked, doubting this.

"She knows I’m out and she said that I could come out and so there," Pippin said, folding his arms over his chest and standing as tall as he was able to.

"Swat little hobbit lads that won’t go away," Berilac answered waving his stick at Pippin. Berilac was Merry’s older cousin and sometimes he could be rather mean to Pippin. All the same, Pippin was determined to find out what the older lads were doing and so he stood his ground and hoped that Fredegar wouldn’t let Berilac swat him with any sticks. Fredegar was usually nice.

"What are you really going to do?’ Pippin asked, ignoring Berilac and looking over at Falco.

"We're going to play Sliders here on the pond," Falco said, seeing no harm in telling the little Took what they were doing. They weren’t up to mischief. They were allowed to play on the pond when it was frozen solid. It wasn’t dangerous like the river was. The Brandywine almost never froze over and even when it did, it didn’t freeze solid. This little pond that was fed by the river was only about two feet deep in the middle and even less near the shore. Even if the ice did crack there was no danger. You might get wet, cold, feet, but that was about it.

"You don’t know what Sliders is?" Berilac asked, laughing. "Everyone knows about Sliders."

"Pippin probably doesn’t Berilac," Falco said. "He’s a Took and they don’t go about the water even when it's frozen over."

Pippin looked at the top of the little pond. He had waded in it many times. He remembered being in it this past summer with Merry. It really was frozen. He’d never seen a frozen pond before. This was great! "How do you play Sliders?"

"Forget it, Pip Squeak," Berilac said, gruffly. "You’re too little to play and you don’t even know the rules."

"I can play if you teach me the rules," Pippin said. ‘I’m good at games." He knew this part was a lie. He was dreadful at games, but he enjoyed them. Besides, who knew? He might be good at this game whatever it was.

"Sorry Pip, but Berilac is right," Fredegar said, leaning down to look at Pippin again. "You’re too small to play. We don’t have a stick that’s your size."

"You wrap your feet in this burlap, tie it and then you slide out onto the ice with your stick," Harley Brandybuck said. "You have two teams and one slider."

Harley held out a small wooden disk for Pippin to inspect. Harley was two years younger than Merry and he was very nice. Pippin liked him. Harley always talked to Pippin as if he were one of the older lads. "What do you do with it?" Pippin asked pointing to the wooden disk.

"Well, you knock it around on the ice with your stick and try to get it to go into a basket," Harley said. Pippin noticed that Falco had a wicker basket in his hand. " The team that manages to knock the slider into the basket the most times is the winner."

"I bet it’s fun," Pippin said. This sounded like a very exciting game to him and he really wanted to try it.

Harley had dropped to the ground and was wrapping his feet in burlap while he talked to Pippin. Pippin noticed that Falco already had burlap on his feet and he was sliding out onto the icy pond with the basket in his hands. "Harley, why do you have to put that old burlap on your feet? Doesn’t it itch?"

"No, not really," Harley said. "If you don’t put it on your feet then you don’t slide as well. The bottom of a hobbit foot is too rough to slide properly on the ice. This stuff helps you slide better is all."

"I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Pippin," Fredegar said. "You’ve never done this before and you might get hurt."

"You’re too little to play Sliders, and Tooks don’t play Sliders," Berilac said, taking his stick and walking to the ice.

"Tooks could play if they wanted to," Pippin yelled after him. Then he turned to Fredegar and Harley. "Please let me try to Slide. You don’t have to let me play, but please let me try the sliding part."

"It won’t hurt to let him try and slide will it?" Harley asked Fredegar. "We can’t start a real game until more of the lads come down from the Hall."

"Well, I don’t suppose it’ll hurt anything, but you have to listen to what we tell you," Fredegar said. He handed Pippin some of the burlap and said, "You have to tie this around your feet first."

Pippin took the burlap and sat down in the snow to wrap his feet. The mittens made his hands clumsy though and he was unable to tie the burlap onto his feet. He pulled at the mittens but discovered that he was unable to remove them because his Aunt Esme had tied their strings around his wrists to secure them onto his hands. Pippin had a bad habit of losing mittens. He would put them on to go out into the cold and then the first chance that he got he would remove them. Esmeralda Brandybuck had started tying them onto his hands in order to avoid this. Pippin hated to ask for help with the burlap but he had no choice. Aunt Esme was far too clever and sometimes it was very annoying.

Laughing at Pippin’s situation, but refusing to remove the hated mittens from the little hobbit’s hands, Falco agreed to tie the burlap onto Pippin’‘s feet. Pippin sat with his head down in embarrassment and watched Falco tie the burlap on. The older lads didn’t have on mittens. They had gloves without fingers in them and so they had no trouble tying things. It wasn’t fair.

Once Pippin’s feet were laced into the burlap, he made his way over to the edge of the pond, clumsily. "This is hard to walk in," he admitted to Harley who was standing just out on the ice.

"It is hard to walk in the snow, but it makes it very easy to slide on the ice," Harley said. He and the others chuckled as Pippin made his way to the pond.

"Now, Pippin," Fredegar said. "You have to be careful and take it slow at first. It’s very hard to keep your balance when you are first learning to do this."

"Here," Fredegar said. "Let me hold your hands for a minute and let you get used to the ice. Then I’ll let you go and you can try it on your own, all right?"

Pippin smiled and nodded. He reached over and took Fredegar’s hands and stepped out onto the ice. All at once he could feel his feet sliding. One was going one way and the other was going the other way. Chuckling, Fredegar helped to steady Pippin while he positioned his feet. ‘This is a bit hard," Pippin admitted.

"That’s why you have to go slow and be careful," Fredegar said. He gently guided Pippin out onto the icy pond.

Pippin watched his own feet as they slid across the ice. Fredegar was pulling him and it was fun. He’d never felt anything like this before. With Fredegar holding his hands, it was easy. "Now, I’m going to let go and you have to try and keep your balance, Pip," Fredergar said. "Do you think you can manage that?"

Fredegar let go of Pippin’s hands and slowly backed away to give Pippin room to try and slide. The older lads, all still waiting on more players for the game, watched as Pippin moved one foot forward and managed to slide a few inches. Thrilled with this, Pippin looked up at Fredegar and crowed, "I’m sliding!" Suddenly he was sitting on his backside on the ice and the older lads were laughing.

"Not bad for a first try," Fredegar said, as Pippin sat there trying to figure out what went wrong. He made to stand and felt his feet slip out from under him. He tried to push with his hands and feet together but the mittens slid worse than the burlap and he sat down again.

He made several more tries with Fredegar encouraging him but simply couldn’t get to his feet. "How do I get up?" Pippin asked, frustrated.

"You don’t seem to be getting up," Berilac laughed not bothering to hide his amusement.

Pippin nodded, "I can do it. I want to try it again." And he did. He tried it again and again and every time he fell, someone had to help him up. He didn’t have any way to get to his feet thanks to his tricky Aunt Esme’s mittens. His backside was cold and sore but he was determined not to give up. After all, Berilac had said that Tooks couldn’t slide. He had to prove him wrong for the honour of all Tooks, didn’t he?

Each time Pippin fell, one of the older lads would haul him back to his feet as they passed. Pippin could managed a few small sliding steps before falling. The trouble was that when he fell he had to wait to get someone’s attention so that they could help him up. Darn mittens! Sometimes he had to sit on the ice and yell for as long as ten minutes before any of the older lads took notice of him. He was beginning to be grateful for the second pair of trousers that his Aunt had made him wear.

Finally, just as Pippin seemed to be getting the hang of things, the rest of the game’s players showed up and Fredegar came over and picked Pippin up and sat him off of the ice. "Now, this game gets rather rough and so you have to stay out of the way, Pippin, " Fredegar said. "You can sit here and watch us play if you want to but you have to stay off of the ice."

"But I was just starting to get better at it," Pippin objected. He had been improving just lately and he hated to give up now. He had hoped to get so good that by the time the game started someone might suggested that they let him play. That hadn’t happened but if he could practice a bit more then it might happen.

"Sorry Pip Squeak, but it isn’t safe," Fredegar said, patting him on top of his head. His hat had come off a while ago and he wasn’t sure where it was now.

"No, now there’s no one that will be here to help you up and if the game gets rough then we might accidentally hurt you. Now, stay off of this pond or I’ll take you up to the Hall and give you to my Aunt Jewel."

"I know that. She makes me nervous too," Fredegar said. "Now, do what I say or you’ll spend the rest of the day with Aunt Jewel."

Fredegar turned and slid out onto the ice to join the teams. Insulted that he wasn’t allowed to play, but still interested in how the game was actually played, Pippin sat down in the snow to watch.

The game was very exciting and Berilacswas particularly good though Pippin would never tell him that. Fredegar was pretty good too and some of the lads that had come down late were extra good. Pippin enjoyed watching the game for a while but soon wanted to try sliding again. After all, if he didn’t get good at it, the older lads would never allow him to play. He needed to practice. The trouble was if he practiced here on the end of the pond, then Fredegar would see him.

He truly was afraid of Fredegar’s Aunt Jewel. The old hobbit smelled like cooked cabbage which was fine if you were a cabbage, but Fredegar’s Aunt Jewel was not a cabbage. She had a very large nose with a wart beside of it and she had squinty little eyes. She talked very loudly and she couldn’t hear you when you talked back unless you said something rude to her. She always heard the rude things. Also, she had a walking stick and if she did think you’d been rude, she would rap you on the head with it. No, Pippin didn’t want to spend any time with Fredegar’s Aunt Jewel.

There had to be other places that were frozen and that he could practice his sliding on.

Merry and Frodo had enjoyed a morning of map reading and adventure planning in the warm library and were now having elevensese. "What do you think, Merry?" Frodo asked. ‘Do you think that we should put the maps away for a while and find Pippin?"

"I think we’d better," Merry grinned. "He’s probably bored with the other little lads by now and looking for something to get into. If we hurry, then maybe we can keep him out of trouble."

Merry nodded. "Too adventurous for his own good most of the time." Merry frowned. "I guess I disappointed him today by not going out in the snow with him first thing. Sometimes I forget how excited he gets about things."

"He is still only a little lad, " Frodo smiled. "Twelve-year-olds get all excited about lots of things that we wouldn’t find that interesting anymore. I suppose that we did find them interesting when we were his age, though."

"I still like snow," Merry admitted, hoping that Frodo wouldn’t think he was being childish.

"So do I," Frodo agreed, though if he had been completely truthful, he would have had to admit that he preferred a good book and a warm fire.

"Then I suppose we should go out and play, er, go out in the snow with Pippin for a while," Merry said. He still enjoyed playing in the snow almost as much as Pippin did but Frodo didn’t need to know that.

The two cousins got their warm sweaters and their coats and went out to look for Pippin.

Pippin was in a bit of a fix just now. He had decided to leave the pond and go up the little stream that ran into it far enough so that Fredegar and the others wouldn’t see him. The little stream was also frozen over and so he could practice on it for a while. When he got really good, then he would come sliding up the little stream and out onto the pond and surprise the older lads.

The little stream wasn’t the Brandywine even though it did come down to the pond from the Brandywine. He wasn’t on the river and so he wouldn’t be breaking the one rule that he’d heard his Aunt Esme give him before she sent him out to play. He trudged through the snow in the rather awkward burlap wrappings on his feet until he reached a likely spot on the stream. He tested it with his hand before going out on it just to make sure it was really frozen like the pond and it was.

He stood up and eased out onto its surface and began to slowly practice his sliding. He could hear the sound of the older lads sticks smacking against each other and against the ice so he knew that he hadn’t gone too far away. At first it seemed that he had finally figured out how this was supposed to be done. The better he got, the braver he became. He began to try to move a bit faster like he’d seen the older lads do. If he was going to play their game then he had to be able to keep up with them. That would mean learning to be faster.

He had built up a bit of speed and was gliding on the stream feeling very proud of himself, when he noticed that the stream seemed to slant downward a bit. In fact, part of the reason that he was going this fast was because he was going down hill. Suddenly he became nervous of the speed with which he was moving and began to try and pull toward the edge of the stream, but he was moving too fast to manage this. As the panic set in, he lost his balance and fell to the ice, but he continued to slide.

Pippin frantically clawed at the ice with his mittens but was helpless to stop himself. Fearing the worst, he closed his eyes and yelled out at the top of his voice.

"Frodo, why don't you and Mery get some of that burlap and join us," Falco called out from the ice. "We could use two more players."

Frodo laughed. "I haven’t played Sliders in years, Falco. I wouldn’t be any help to you."

"Well, I know you’re pretty good, Merry," Falco said, slightly disappointed that Frodo wasn't going to play. He had heard that Frodo was very good indeed. "Want to give it a try. How about it, are you in the mood for a game?"

"I am better than pretty good, Falco," Merry bragged as Frodo rolled his eyes. "But I need to find the PipSqueak just now."

"I knew that no one had given that child permission to follow us down here!" Berilac said, sliding to the edge of the pond and looking at Merry.

"Well, he was sitting over there watching us play only a few minutes ago," Fredegar said. "He wanted to play, the little rascal, but I threatened him with a visit to Aunt Jewel and he saw reason."

Merry scanned the area around them and frowned. "Freddy, Pip almost never sees reason."

"He was kind of funny really, " Harley said. "He wanted to try sliding and so we let him. He spent most of the morning on his backside on the ice, but the stubborn little Took wouldn’t give up."

"Yes, and those mittens didn’t help matters either, but I am not going up against your mum on anything and so I refused to take the mittens off of him, " Falco laughed. "She tied them on."

"If she doesn’t then Pippin takes them off and freezes to death rather than wear them," Merry said, still looking around. "He also hides them. Somewhere in Buckland there are several hundred pairs of perfectly good mittens."

"Probably got bored and went back up to the Hall to get warm," Falco said. "He slides pretty good for a first-timer, not to mention a Took."

Just then a very faint yell caught their ears and Merry felt the inside of his stomach churning. "Back to the Hall, my arse!" He and Frodo began to run toward the sound of the yell followed by the others.

"Along the side of the stream," Merry declared, not stopping to explain how he knew this. He just knew Pippin and he suspected that his little cousin had gone off to try to slide on his own. The stream would be a likely place.

Pippin had come to a stop somewhere. He built up his nerve and opened his eyes. All he could see was ice everywhere. He raised his head slowly afraid to make any sudden moves, and saw the bank far off in the distance. Where he lay was too wide to be a part of the stream. He looked and saw where the stream had come out of the bank and onto, onto, "Help!" He yelled wildly trying to stand and falling flat on his stomach. He was out in the middle of the Brandywine River.

The yelling had started again, making it easier to track Pippin and the older boys found themselves nearing the river. Merry’s heart was in his throat now. Oh, please don’t let Pip have fallen into the Brandywine. The cold water would likely kill the child. Anyone could drown in icy water, even the most experienced swimmer. Pippin, could swim but was still not a very strong swimmer.

Frodo reached the bank first and caught sight of Pippin struggling to get up and falling back to the ice. Blessedly, the part of the river that Pippin was on was frozen. Unfortunately, there was a melted patch of river water peeking through the ice a few feet behind Pippin and about twelve or so feet to the little hobbit’s right the river flowed, unfrozen. Frodo knew that there was no way to tell just how thick or how solid the ice was.

"It’s alright, Pip, just don’t move," Merry yelled back, calmer than he felt. "We’ll get you."

"Wait a minute, Merry," Frodo objected. "You can’t just walk out there. That ice is holding Pippin, but it might not hold you."

"We have to get him out of there, Frodo," Merry said, the panic in his own voice was evident.

Out on the ice, Pippin was starting to cry, softly. What if he fell through the ice? Berilac was right. Tooks didn’t slide. He wanted out of here and back on the shore. He shivered and told him self over and over again, "Merry will get me. Merry will get me." He began to repeat it over and over softly to calm himself down.

"Go to the boat house and get a rope, Harley," Merry ordered. "We can tie a rope around me and I can walk out there and get him."

Harley took off running through the snow in the direction of the boat house, which thankfully was not on the wrong side of the stream. Now it was Frodo who was giving orders. "Falco, you and Berilac go up and try to drag a boat down here. It the ice breaks, we’ll need it."

As the others went off to get the rope and the boat, Merry started to move toward the edge of the shore closest to Pippin’s position on the ice. He could see his little cousin’s mouth moving but was unable to hear what he was saying. The small mitten-covered hands lay flat in front of him on the ice and his feet which were still wrapped in the burlap, were stretched out behind him.

"Wait for the rope, Meriadoc," Frodo said, sternly. "Remember, the ice will hold Pippin, but you are a very big lad." He watched his cousin nervously knowing that at any moment, Merry was liable to start across the ice toward Pippin.

"I’m coming in just a minute Pip. You just keep laying perfectly still and wait for me," Merry instructed.

"I mean it, Pip," Merry said sternly as Harley ran up beside of Merry with the rope.

Merry tied the rope around his waist and handed the long coil to Harley and Frodo. "Now, walk slowly, Merry and listen for any sound that might be the ice cracking," Frodo said. "Do not rush this. Pippin is fine where he is right now. Go slow or you’ll put both of you into the Brandywine." He shivered as he said this last. He knew very well that not everyone came out of the Brandywine alive. He pushed the thought aside and held fast to the rope along with Harley as Merry made his way slowly out onto the ice.

Pippin raised his head and opened his eyes. He could see Merry inching away from the bank. He could see Frodo and Harley on the bank holding onto something. Frantic to get to Merry and to safety, Pippin began to try to move himself forward but the hated mittens and the burlap on his feet refused to give him any traction at all and he simply slid helplessly in the same spot.

"Pippin lay still!" Merry shouted, and he stopped to listen for any cracking sounds. "If you keep that up, you’ll put us both in the river!"

Pippin stopped and lay still, breathing hard from his efforts. Little white puffs of smoke came out of his mouth and nose and he began to be very cold. He was laying on ice and had been for a while now. "Let Merry hurry, please," Pippin murmured to no one in particular.

Frodo let out a breath of air. He’d been holding his breath for Merry since his cousin had started out onto the frozen river. Behind him, Falco and Berilac dragged a row boat to a stop at the edge of the river. Fredegar lay a hand on Frodo’s shoulder in support. "Don’t worry, Merry knows what he’s doing."

Frodo gave a small bark of a laugh. Merry would do whatever it took to get to Pippin. He might not have any idea of what he was doing, but he would risk everything to reach Pippin. Frodo watched Merry inch out further onto the river and knew that if the ice broke now, they would have to be quick in hauling Merry in and getting him warm or he would freeze to death. He didn’t like to think what would happen to Pippin if the ice broke. There was no rope around Pippin just now. The little hobbit was on his own out there on the frozen river.

Slowly but surely, Merry managed to get within a few feet of Pippin. He could tell that the ice was thinner here and he would need to be very careful. If Pippin panicked and flung himself at Merry their combined weight might break the ice. He had to stop before he reached Pippin and explain this to him. He only hoped that Pippin wasn’t too frightened to take instructions.

Pippin looked up, "Merry you’re almost here. Please come and get me. I’m cold."

"Peregrin Took, unless you want us both to fall in this cold water and freeze to death, you will listen to me right now," Merry said, sternly and loud enough so that he could be heard on the bank.

Pippin gulped and nodded, "I-I-I’ll listen, Merry. I don’t want us to freeze."

"That’s my lad, now listen carefully Pip," Merry said, feeling guilty for scaring the child, but relieved that it had worked. "I am going to lay down on this ice and inch my way to you. When I can reach your hands, I am going to take hold of them. I don’t want you to do anything except hold on tight to my hands. Don’t try to move toward me or try to pull or anything. Just hold on tighter than you’ve ever held on before, do you hear me?"

"No, Aunt Esme tied them cause I won’t keep them on if she doesn’t," Pippin said. Merry had known this but with all of this tension he had forgotten it.

"Don’t worry, Pip. I can hold on tight for both of us. You just lay still and do what I’ve told you to, alright?"

Merry yelled back to Frodo. "When I have Pippin’s hands, I will yell for you all to pull, Frodo. Then I am just going to hold onto him while you pull us to shore."

"Go ahead, Merry," Frodo yelled back. "We can do that." He desperately hoped that they could.

Merry stretched out on the ice and inched his way toward Pippin. The two of them locked eyes and Merry continued to speak to his little cousin in a soft, reassuring voice, "Just lay still and look at me, Pip. Just wait and I will be there any minute now." After what seemed like forever to everyone, Merry’s hands clamped firmly around Pippin’s mittens and the child sighed, releasing a shaky breath.

Merry pulled Pippin forward slightly and managed to get a firm grip on Pippin’s wrists which were easier to hold than the mittens. He took a deep breath and yelled back to Frodo. "Pull! I’ve got him!"

"Easy now, take it slow and just pull a little at a time," Frodo instructed the others. It was very hard not to jerk the rope as fast as it would come, but they had to be very careful now.

Pippin wanted desperately to move his feet and arms and pull himself over to Merry but he didn’t dare. Merry had said that they would both freeze to death and so he had to be very good, but he was so very frightened.

"You are doing just fine, Pip," Merry said, and even smiled to reassure his little cousin. "You are being very brave and it’s going to be just fine in a few minutes. Frodo is pulling us to shore. Frodo won’t let us down, Pip."

After what seemed like hours but was really only about thirty minutes total, Frodo, Fredegar and Falco, helped Merry drag a very frightened Pippin up onto the bank. Pippin climbed right into Merry’s arms and wrapped his own around Merry’s neck tightly. He buried his face in Merry’s shoulder and cried softy. Merry held him and rubbed his back and kissed his curls all the while fussing at him. "I should hang you from the first tree I find, Peregrin Took. Of all the dangerous stunts that you’ve pulled in your very short life this is the worst. No one would blame me if I never spoke to you again."

"Well, I should hope not," Merry said, allowing Frodo and Freddy to help him to his feet with Pippin still clinging to him like a wet shirt.

"Don’t worry, Pip," Merry said, gently. "I could never do that to you. You are a powerful lot of trouble, but you’re mine."

Pippin cried himself to sleep in Merry’s arms on the way back to the Hall. Everyone offered, but Merry refused to let anyone else carry the child.

This hasn't happened with these little stories before so this came as a surprise. In order to read this one, you need to have read, "Snow and Ice" which is the one directly before it. This one won't make much sense to you if you haven't read that one first. I know all of these are supposed to be stand-alone stories, but I couldn't resist doing this short little add-on to the last one.

In this, Merry is 39, and Pippin is 31. Fredegar and Estella are also in this one.

"Here you are," Estella frowned, taking the little hobbit lass from Merry. "Where did you find her?"

"Well, she had gotten as far as the orchard and was happily stuffing her adorable little face with apples that she’d picked up off of the ground. It’s likely she’ll not eat much lunch." Merry grinned and ran his hand through the small child’s curls with a wink at Estella.

"Auntie Stella, I’m hungry," the little girl chirped with a rather nasty glare at Merry.

Estella smirked and replied, "Well, of course you are my dearest. I’ll just give you over to your papa and he can see to it that you get all of the lunch that you want." As she handed her niece to her brother, she noticed that the child was sticking her tongue out at Merry who was returning the favor.

"Thank you, Stella, and you too Merry," Freddy said, taking his little four-year-old into his arms and turning to go. "You, my darling little Miss are as slippery as a Took on ice."

Merry snorted while beside of him Pippin blushed furiously. Estella grinned and smiled sweetly at Pippin. "I guess sooner or later a hobbit’s past catches up with him, doesn’t it?"

Estella laughed. "Well, as far as I know you do have the satisfaction of being the only Took with a Buckland expression coined after him."

"Yes, Pip has definitely left his mark on Buckland, haven’t you Pip?" Merry teased, wrapping an arm around his cousin’s shoulders.

"They don’t really say that all of the time in Buckland, do they?" Pippin winced, looking over at Merry.

Pippin groaned. "Everywhere I go, I wind up being the laughing stock of the place before I manage to leave."

"It’s part of your charm," Estella said, reaching over and giving Pippin a quick kiss on his cheek.

"It’s also why I was able to catch that tricky little lass of Freddy’s just now," Merry said. "I had plenty of practice catching you when you were young."

"Well, it’s still embarrassing to be known for getting myself stuck out on the frozen surface of the Brandywine when I was twelve," Pippin muttered. "It wasn’t my fault anyway. It was your mum and those awful mittens." Pippin looked at Merry accusingly. "If she hadn’t made me wear those, I might have been able to-"

"Get into even more trouble with those clever little fingers free," Merry broke in. "You’re just lucky that I was around to come out after you."

Freddy had returned from giving his daughter to her mother and he chose that moment to speak up. "Yes, Pippin, the rest of us were all for just leaving you out there until the spring thaw. Not Merry, though. This crazy Brandybuck just insisted on rescuing you."

"Yes, I did," Merry said. "And you should be very grateful to me and go and get me some of the strawberry cake that my mum, the mitten knitter, made."

Pippin sighed, "Fine, but only because it will get me away from all of this teasing for a few minutes." Pippin turned, ears still pink from his blushing, and went in the direction of the food tables.

"You just better hope that he never finds out who it was coined that little expression," Freddy whispered to Merry.

"You inch your way out onto the frozen Brandywine after him and see if you don’t get an urge to repay him," Merry said. "Besides, it’s a perfectly accurate expression. As slippery as a Took on ice. Has a nice ring to it and Bucklanders seem to have taken to it. Works well on cold winter mornings when the ground is frozen."

"How am I ever to put up with you?" Estella asked, wrapping her arms about him and looking up at him, lovingly.

"Stay off of the Brandywine in the winter and we’ll get along just fine," Merry teased her, leaning over and kissing her nose.

"Would you come out after me if I were stranded on the frozen Brandywine?" Estella asked, batting her lashes at Merry.

Pippin had returned with Merry’s cake and he answered before Merry could, "Of course he would. That’s where the expression ‘as reckless as the Master’s son’ comes from."

"Stop crunching," Merry complained as he lay there on the bank, eyes closed and hands resting over his chest. He yawned and stretched out his legs, getting comfortable.

"S’hard to eat an apple without crunching," Pippin observed as he sat next to his older cousin.

"You’ve had enough apples," Merry said, between yawns. "Try something new for a change and just be quiet."

Pippin wrinkled up his nose and looked over at Merry. "Very amusing. I can be quiet if I want to and I have done so many times."

"I must have missed all of them, which would be quite impossible as you are always with me," Merry said, dryly. He shifted a bit on the soft grass but did not open his eyes.

Merry laughed softly. "Then some little runt of a hobbit who looks just like you is here when you are not."

Pippin huffed and stood. "So I suppose that is your way of telling me to go away," he said in an injured tone. "Fine! I know when I’m not wanted. I know when it’s time to take my leave of someone or someplace. I have plenty of places that I can go where they will welcome me with open arms. I don’t know why I waste any time at all with you."

"Me either," Merry said, smiling. "With so many other choices open to you I am surprised that you ever turn up here at all. Please go, with my blessings. Don’t trouble yourself about me. I’ll just lay here and rest in the peace and quiet which will begin the minute that you are gone."

"Then we are both agreed," Pippin said. "I hope you are very happy here on this river bank all by yourself because I fear that you will miss me when I am gone."

"At this rate, I will never get to find out, will I?" Merry said, draping an arm over his still-closed eyes.

Pippin glared down at him in frustration. Why was it that of all of the hobbits in the Shire he had decided to become attached to this one? He had plenty of other cousins and some of them were actually nice to him. Some of them were closer to his age. Certainly, all of them were easier to manage and to make do what he enjoyed doing. Why was it that he seemed to want to go everywhere that Merry went? What was so special about Meriadoc Brandybuck anyway?

He wasn’t always friendly. He had a very bad temper when angered. He always decided what they did and when they did it. He had to be in charge of everything. Merry teased him dreadfully about everything. But, still, Merry was incredibly good at everything and he had the best ideas. Merry was funny and he did keep the older lads from teasing him. When he was with Merry, no one dared to pick on him. Merry also took him places that he wasn’t allowed to go on his own like pubs and out on the Brandywine. It wasn’t all bad.

In fact, it was all quite wonderful most of the time and it was very exciting. The other lads his age were jealous because Merry would take him places with the older lads. Merry treated him like one of the older lads sometimes. Merry talked to him about important things like lasses and secret plans. Merry would occasionally ask him what he thought about important things. Sometimes he would laugh at the answers but other times he would pay attention.

"Are you planning to stand there in the sun all afternoon surrounded by discarded apple-cores and stare at me?" Merry asked. His eyes were closed but he always knew what Pippin was doing without looking. It was one of the more annoying things about Merry. "I thought you’d have gone off to one of those many places where they will welcome you with open arms by now."

Pippin continued to glare at him. He twisted his toe in the sweet-smelling grass but said nothing.

"Why somewhere in the Shire there are hundreds of lonely hobbits awaiting your arrival," Merry said, dramatically. "In fact, if I listen very closely I can hear them asking each other, ‘Where is that scrawny, noisy Took-child whose company we enjoy so very much?’" Merry opened one eye a crack and looked over at Pippin who now had his arms folded over his chest and was rolling his green eyes as Merry spoke. "Right now they are saying, ‘Why is Pippin wasting his time on the very charming Meriadoc Brandybuck when he could be here with us and be bored to tears by our dullness?’"

Pippin was trying hard not to laugh. He was biting the insides of his cheeks and looking out at the Brandywine but Merry was getting to him.

"Oh, whatever shall we do? Why that Brandybuck lad is just too interesting and too wonderful for Pippin to ever leave his side for even a single minute and come and chatter endlessly to us until our ears bleed," Merry said, in a high, mournful tone. As he peeked again at his younger cousin, he could see that Pippin was fighting laughter and was nearly doubled over with the effort so he continued. "Drat, that amazingly handsome Meriadoc Brandybuck! Who does he think that he is, monopolizing all of whiney little Peregrin Took’s time? Why doesn’t he give some of us poor twits a chance to be annoyed by that little squirt?"

Pippin snorted and fought for control. "I don’t whine," he snickered, helplessly.

"No, you don’t or I wouldn’t waste any of my valuable time on you," Merry smiled, opening both eyes now and watching as Pippin sank to his knees in a fit of laughter.

"You worship me and wish you were half the hobbit that I am," Merry said. "So does half the Shire so it’s no surprise really." Merry put his arms behind his head and sighed, looking at the sky.

Pippin crawled over and dropped on his stomach next to Merry and asked, "What does the other half of the Shire wish?"

"Why that’s easy, Pippin lad," Merry said. "They wish they were you so they could spend so much time enjoying my company." Merry grinned over at Pippin with a twinkle in his eyes. "But, sadly, they aren’t you and most of them bore me to tears. You are the least boring hobbit that I know."

"Give it up, Merry," Pippin said, smiling widely. "I’m your best friend and you know it!"

"Such delusions of self-importance in one so young," Merry sighed. "I guess I’ll have to let you hang around me for your own safety. You’re a bit touched and might get into trouble on your own."

"Yes, you do, because you are my best friend." Merry whispered softly, closing his eyes.

"What?" Pippin demanded, sitting up. "What did you say? Merry?" But it was no use as Merry was now pretending to snore so Pippin gave up and lay down on the grass, smiling. There was no one in all of the Shire like Merry.

This one was written for a Challenge on hobbit_ficathon . The challenge was to write something about Bilbo's famous 111th.

birthday party. I used the movie version rather than the book so if you prefer strictly book version stories then this one is not for you. This is Merry and Pippin and Gandalf based on the movie. Thanks for reading!

"You always manage to get us into trouble, you know that don’t you?" Merry asks as he sits down another pile of dirty dishes in front of Pippin.

They do not realize that I am watching them and can hear what is being said. They are too involved in their argument to notice me. I have settled myself near the side of the washing area and have just lit my pipe. It will not be too long before Bilbo will be making his birthday speech. Hobbits do love their customs and a speech given by the guest of honor is expected. They won’t want it to be a long speech, but they will expect a speech of some sort. Hobbits!

"I always get us into trouble?" Pippin is insulted at this suggestion. "You were the one that came up with the idea in the first place, Merry. I wanted to go by the cook tents and see if we could nick a couple of pies, remember?" He is up to his elbows in dish washing soap. The only clean part of either of them is their lower arms and hands. Both of them are liberally coated in black soot and ash from the stolen fireworks.

"I always come up with the ideas because you have dreadful ideas," Merry hisses as he begins to dry the stack of clean plates in front of him. "If I waited about for you to have a good idea, I’d be an old gaffer before you ever managed one." He pops his dish cloth at his cousin and it snaps only inches from Peregrin’s sharp nose.

"I have plenty of ideas. You are just too pig-headed to listen to any of them," Pippin says, and he flips a bit of dish water at Meriadoc. "You wouldn’t know a good idea if it bit you on the arse."

"Taking that firework was a grand idea, but some of us have no clue how to set off fireworks and so naturally, we were caught," Merry says, and then leans close to his cousin and continues, "I told you to stick it in the ground."

"It was in the ground," Pippin says, pulling back slightly from Merry’s fierce glare.

"Outside," Merry says. "It was supposed to be in the ground outside of the tent you ninny-hammer. Who in their right mind would think that fireworks should be let off inside of a tent?"

I chuckle softly to myself at this and they still do not notice me. I wouldn’t admit it to anyone but these two rascals amuse me greatly. They are quite a pair really; Meriadoc Brandybuck, the older cousin, the planner, the giver of orders, and Peregrin Took, the younger cousin and loyal follower. They are constantly involved in some sort of plot and most of the time they wind up as they are now, in trouble, but unrepentant.

Pippin squirms a bit behind the table and begins to wash a plate with far too much vigor. "I have never lit any fireworks before. I was a wee bit nervous is all. If you hadn’t been so busy giving orders and yelling then I might have done it right."

Merry snorts and stacks another dish. "I would have loved to see you get it right. That would have been a pleasant surprise indeed." He shakes his head and reaches for another dish to dry.

I believe he intends to pout a bit. This one is experienced in that particular art. I have seen him do this sort of thing many times with excellent results. I think it is largely due to the eyes. He has a way of looking up from underneath his rather long lashes at his victim that seems to turn the tide nearly every time. I puff quietly on my pipe which Bilbo has most generously filled with Old Toby earlier in the evening as I wait for Meriadoc to succumb.

Merry frowns a bit and begins to look guilty. He glances over at Pippin and catches sight of his younger cousin peering at him. "Well, alright, then," Merry concedes. "Maybe some of it might be my fault. I should have known that you wouldn’t know anything about fireworks."

Pippin bites his lower lip but says nothing in response. He continues to work on the next dish and stares into the hot, soapy water mournfully.

"Maybe we shouldn’t have taken the big one," Merry continues. "Maybe it would have been better if we had started with one of the smaller ones." He looks over at Pippin and waits but still receives no response. He frowns and stalks over to get more dirty plates.

Meriadoc walks right past me, gives me a slightly embarrassed glance and then continues back to Peregrin. I smile as he walks away. Meriadoc is the one in a position of authority, and yet Peregrin seems to be taking control simply by looking offended. Hobbits are more complex than others give them credit for being. Their friendships are like none other in all of Middle Earth. These two before me are cousins and have known each other all of young Peregrin’s life. They are devoted to one another. If anyone else spoke so harshly to Peregrin, they would feel the sting of Meriadoc’s anger. He is very protective of his younger cousin. They often talk to one another as if they are mortal enemies, but there is always a current of affection running below the surface of such exchanges.

"I suspect that we shall miss most of the party now," Merry says as he sets the dirty plates next to Pippin’s elbow and then returns to the other side of the table to work at drying more dishes. "I think Gandalf was pretty angry this time." He rubs his ear. "He nearly pulled my ear off of the side of my head."

"That’s because you have ears like pitcher-handles," Pippin observes. "It makes it easy for him to get an excellent grip." His elbow just misses colliding the stack of dirty plates that Merry has delivered to him as he sets another clean one on the top of Merry’s pile.

Pippin gives him a sympathetic look and shrugs. "All the same, Merry, they are quite large. Also, I don't think they match."

Merry’s eyes widen. "What do you mean they don’t match?" He leans toward Pippin and they are face to face over the tub of water. Steam rises around them and they are nose to nose.

Pippin smiles and breaks eye contact first. "I think ones higher up than the other."

"Higher up?" Merry asks, reaching both hands up and trying to check this by rubbing his ears. "How can one ear be higher than the other?"

"I don’t know how, Merry, I just know that one is higher," Pippin says and he leans toward Merry. "I‘ve not seen anything like it on another hobbit in the Shire. Maybe you were dropped on your noggin’ as a wee babe."

I grin and turn away lest they catch me observing them. I must not laugh because hobbits do have excellent hearing, even hobbits with uneven ears. I have often thought that young Peregrin has learned far too much from his older cousins. The lad seems to be able to land on his feet in most situations and I believe that is due to years of following Meriadoc and Frodo about. He may not always seem to be doing so, but the lad does pay heed to what goes on about him. He is a fine eavesdropper. It is a skill that most young hobbits possess. Peregrin is a master of this talent.

Merry glares at Pippin with his light grey eyes which are currently surrounded by dirt and says, "Maybe I should drop you on your noggin’ now."

"You asked me how one ear could be higher than the other and that’s the only thing that I can think of, Merry," Pippin says. "I wouldn’t worry about it, though. Most of us are used to it by now. I hardly notice it a’tall unless you bring it up."

"My ears are just fine," Merry snaps, in a rather threatening tone. "At least I don’t have a nose like a weasel."

Now, it is Pippin’s turn to look alarmed. His mouth falls open as if he might speak and then it closes again. He takes one soapy hand and rubs at the point of his nose leaving a clean spot and says, "I don’t have a nose like a weasel. It’s just a wee bit pointed is all."

"It’s so sharp on the end that you could use it as a writing quill. I could dip the tip of it in ink and write my name," Merry says, and then grins. "Of course, you can’t help it. Your whole family’s a bit homely."

Pippin is outraged by this. Hobbits will come to the defense of their families with alarming speed. Hobbits have a very fierce sense of family pride. The Tooks are among the most prideful when it comes to their family history. Meriadoc’s family, the Brandybucks, are second to the Tooks only slightly in this regard.

"My family is far better looking than any of you Brandybucks. Why my ugliest relation is a beauty when standing next to one of your family." Pippin leans forward and glares at Merry.

"Merry?’ Pippin says, looking over toward the rest of the party guests who are eating and drinking and laughing while they wait for their host to come forward and make his birthday speech. "Do you suppose that there will be any food left for us when Gandalf is through punishing us?"

It is a complete change of subject but Meriadoc is used to this sort of thing from Peregrin and he is not surprised by it. He scowls in my direction and then looks back at his partner in crime.

"He’ll have to let us have a bit to eat soon. No one is that cruel," Merry whispers.

Pippin looks hopeful. "I wanted some cake and maybe some of the ham and a few roasted potatoes and a bit of pie and-"

Behind him, Pippin continues his list of food and I give Merry a rather stern glance as he passes me just to remind him that I am still supervising their punishment. With his usual cheek, he sighs and then shrugs and gives me his best, ‘I had to try, didn’t I?’ look. Just then, Bilbo steps up to the front of the assembly and climbs up onto a barrel so that the guests in the back may get a proper view of their host. Meriadoc and Peregrin both turn their attention toward Bilbo, dishes forgotten and I allow it. I am worried about this little speech. I am afraid that Bilbo is about to get up to some mischief of his own. His actions will make Meriadoc and Peregrin’s antics with the fireworks look innocent. I glance about and try to catch sight of young Frodo. Frodo suspects something, but I am quite sure that he isn’t prepared for what Bilbo is planning.

Concerning Ladders by Grey Wonderer
This is a little Yule story featuring Merry and Pippin after the Quest...

"How did you get up there?" Merry asked, cupping his hands around his mouth and calling out loudly against the wind.

Merry looked up at the roof of the Crickhollow house and scratched his head. Pippin was sitting on the edge of the roof with his feet dangling over the side. "What ladder?" Merry asked, now scanning the ground in front of him. All he could see was a light dusting of snow disturbed only by a few footprints. No ladder.

"From whom?" Merry called up, looking at his cousin in confusion. If Pippin had borrowed a ladder then where was the ladder now? Pippin was on the roof and so one might expect the ladder to be leaning against the house, but there didn’t seem to be a ladder. "And if you did borrow one, then where is it?"

"I borrowed it from old Mister Grubb down the way, Merry," Pippin called out. "I don’t know where it is now."

"I hardly think that is the most important part of this, Meriadoc," Pippin sputtered. Merry watched as Pippin wrapped his arms about himself in an effort to get warm. "I can’t get down now!"

Merry snorted. "I figured that out all on my own. Serves you right for losing the ladder."

"I didn’t lose it! I was up here and it was just gone," Pippin shouted. "I left it leaning against the house and when I came back to climb down, it was gone! That is hardly my fault!" Pippin was either red in the face from the cold or from anger. Merry couldn’t decide which at the moment.

"Just get me down. It’s cold up here," Pippin said, shifting a bit on the edge of the roof and causing a bit of snow to drift down onto Merry’s head.

"Get back from the edge or you’ll fall down on your own, you ridiculous Took," Merry warned, brushing the snow from his hair. "Only you could lose a ladder!"

"Why don’t we have a ladder, Merry? If we had one of our own, then I wouldn’t have to borrow one," Pippin said, scooting back from the roof’s edge.

"I didn’t think we needed one," Merry said. "I didn’t think we would be climbing about on the roof. I definitely didn’t think we would be climbing about on the roof in the snow!" He glared up at Pippin as he said this last, hands on his hips in a gesture that his mother often used when she was angry with someone. "I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without coming home to find a disaster in progress."

"It wasn’t suppose to be a disaster, Merry," Pippin yelled. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"It is a surprise," Merry said. "I am very surprised. I should just leave you there. Maybe the next time I go up to the Hall for the afternoon you won’t get into any more trouble."

"Merry, it’s cold," Pippin objected. "And this isn’t my fault! I had a ladder!"

"Well, I don’t!" Merry yelled. "How am I supposed to get you down without a ladder?" Merry looked around as if expecting a ladder to appear but none did. "Well, what do you suggest that I do, Peregrin Took?"

"Well, I don’t suspect that I should ask old Mister Grubb for one, should I?" Merry said, sarcastically. "You know how I hate ladders, Pippin!"

"You don’t have to climb it, just get it and lean it against the house," Pippin shouted. "I’ll climb it!"

"Fine, but back up from the edge and try to sit still while I go see if I can find a ladder," Merry said, firmly. "Don’t do anything else ridiculous while I’m gone!" Merry turned and stalked off in search of a ladder while Pippin watched his older cousin from the roof, shivering. He couldn’t imagine where the ladder had gone. Ladders didn’t leave on their own.

About fifteen minutes later as Merry was walking by the Grubb home, he noticed old Mister Grubb out front sweeping off his stoop. As Merry walked past Mister Grubb called out, "Fine thing to have a neighbor who runs off with your belongings!"

Merry stopped and turned. "I’m sorry? What do you mean, Mister Grubb, sir?" Merry asked.

"I found my ladder up again’ your house, Meriadoc Brandybuck not more than two hours ago," Mister Grubb said. "So I guess you might be able to take my meaning on this." He walked out to meet Merry, hands fisted at his sides.

Merry’s mouth fell open but he quickly recovered. "I am so sorry about that, Mister Grubb. I assure you that I didn’t know anything about it. My cousin Pippin must have helped himself to your ladder. I do apologize." Merry decided that Pippin had got exactly what he deserved in all of this. The sneaky little Took had stolen Mister Grubb’s ladder. It looked as it Mister Grubb had taken it back while Pippin was otherwise occupied. Merry would have smiled, but there was Mister Grubb to think of at present. A smile might not be the best thing at the moment.

"So, you had nothing’ to do with this?" Mister Grubb said, eyeing Merry intently as if looking for a lie in him.

"No, sir, I most certainly did not," Merry said. "I only came home from the Hall a bit ago and found my cousin up on our roof."

Mister Grubb stood a moment and processed this information and then chuckled. "So the little thief is trapped on the roof now, is he? Well, I didn’t know that when I took my ladder but it is an added bonus," Mister Grubb grinned. "That’ll teach him to take what don’t belong to him."

Merry grinned a bit and then said, "It will indeed, but the trouble is, I do need to get him down before he freezes to death. I am afraid that I find myself in need of a ladder." Merry waited to see what the old gentlehobbit’s response might be.

"You mean to say that your cousin could use a ladder, don’t you?" Mister Grubb said, eyes twinkling from his very round face. There was a touch of something about the old hobbit’s expression that Merry didn’t care for.

"Well, yes, I guess that’s so," Merry said. "I know that you don’t have any reason to do so, Mister Grubb, but could you be so kind as to see your way clear to loan me that ladder of yours?"

"I know that, sir," Merry said. "I promise to return it to you as soon as I’ve got Pippin off of the roof, or better still, I will have Pippin return it with an apology."

Mister Grubb thought this over for a minute and then answered, "Ladder is in the barn where it belongs, Meriadoc, but I suspect that you can find it well enough. I expect you to keep your word on this. I’ll be wantin’ an apology from that cousin yours. The very idea of that sort of behavior here in Buckland and it almost Yule too! Never did trust those Tooks and I see now that I was right in my thinking on that. I hate to think what Buckland will come to if more ‘o them move over here across the water. I think we should post a guard at the bridge and turn any with a drop ‘o Took blood in ‘em away on sight!"

"I’m afraid that I can’t agree with you there, sir, as my own mother is a Took," Merry said, straightening. "I might find myself ousted from my own home if you get your way." It seemed that every time he turned around Merry was having to defend his Took relations in some way. Folks in Buckland could be a bit narrow-minded when it came to the subject of Tooks.

Mister Grubb looked a bit embarrassed for having forgotten that Merry’s mother was a Took, but he quickly recovered himself and said, "Well, even in a bunch such as the Tooks I suspect that there might be a good one now and again, and you are at least half Brandybuck."

Merry found himself wanting to continue his defense of his mother at least, but he stopped himself. He had no idea how many of his other close neighbors had ladders and he knew that Pippin had been stuck out on the roof for at least three hours now. It was best, though not at all satisfying, to hold his tongue for the present. He didn’t want a sick cousin on his hands through the holidays. It was difficult, but he managed to bite back the words he’d wanted to say and instead he smiled, "I am indeed half Brandybuck and very proud of it! So, will you trust me to see to the return of your ladder?"

"I will," Mister Grubb said. "I’ve a thing or two to say to that cousin of yours when he returns it. I won’t have my things taken without my leave. I’ve lived here all of my years and I have earned the right to expect my property to be respected. I wouldn’t like to, but I could go to the Master on this."

Merry was very sure that Mister Grubb would go to the Master and he believed that the old coot would enjoy it no matter what he said.

A bit breathless from dragging the ladder back to his house and with a growing anger at Pippin for his actions, Merry finally arrived back home. Between the nasty talk with Mister Grubb and the fact that Pippin had led him to believe that he had borrowed the ladder, Merry was now in a very nasty mood himself.

An unsuspecting Pippin peered down from the roof shivering and smiled. "Thank goodness you’re back," Pippin shouted. "I was beginning to think that you’d left me."

"I thought long and hard about doing just that at several points while getting this ladder," Merry said, stiffly. "Now, I am going to put this against the house and I want you to get down here as quickly as you can, do you hear me?"

"Yes, I’ll gladly be quick," Pippin said, rubbing his gloved hands together. "I’m very tired of being stuck up here. It’s freezing and it’s starting to snow again."

Merry hadn’t noticed the snow. He’d been too angry with Pippin and with Mister Grubb to take notice of much else. He leaned the ladder against the roof and held on to the bottom of it for extra safety. It was snowing again. Seems that they would be having a white Yule season this year if this kept up. "Take off those gloves so your hands don’t slip!" Merry shouted up to Pippin.

Pippin removed the gloves obediently, stuffed them into his pocket and began to climb down. He was very cold and very damp. He had been sitting on the snowy roof from most of the afternoon. He could only hope that his surprise for Merry was worth the effort. The Yule season was supposed to be filled with surprises and it was so difficult to surprise Merry. He stepped off of the last rung of the ladder and grinned at Merry. "This is Mister Grubb’s ladder. Where did you find it?"

Merry had his arms folded over his chest now and he looked quite angry about something so Pippin suspected that there had been trouble over the ladder. "Did someone pinch it?"

Merry was fairly seething now. "Someone?" Merry asked. "You want to know if someone pinched this ladder? "

Pippin nodded, putting his hands underneath his armpits to warm them. He dared not say more as he could see that Merry was extremely angry with someone. He felt sorry for the poor hobbit that had crossed his older cousin.

"I am looking at the hobbit who took this ladder!" Merry shouted and rapped Pippin hard on top of the head. "Are you out of your mind? Do you know I had to endure at least twenty minutes of Mister Grubb’s lecturing because of you? I truly did give thought to not coming back here. I am not sure if I trust myself not to hang you, Peregrin Took! How could you take Mister Grubb’s ladder without getting permission?" He glared at Pippin daring him to make an excuse this time.

Pippin’s eyes were wide and he sounded hurt by the accusation. "Is that what you think that I did? Do you think that I took that ladder without permission?"

"I know you did!" Merry said. "Don’t try to squirm your way out of this one, Pippin. I talked to Mister Grubb myself for a good deal longer than I wanted to and he told me exactly what happened."

"He said he came by here and found this ladder leaning against this house and so he took it home with him," Merry said. "He had no idea that you had it! He thinks you’re a thief and I tend to agree with him at this point!"

"So I can see," Pippin said, even softer. He looked down at his feet for a moment but offered no other explanation.

"Well, at least you’ve the good sense not to offer me any wild excuses this time," Merry said. "Now, I told Mister Grubb that if he would allow me to use his ladder to rescue you, that you would return it to him. Now you take this ladder back to Mister Grubb and you apologize before he has you up on charges and my father has to render judgment!"

"Fine," Pippin said, putting his wet gloves back on. "I’ll take the ladder back and then I’m going up to the Hall and stay the night. I would hate for you to have to spend the evening with me after my deplorable behavior." Pippin took hold of the ladder and maneuvered it past Merry.

"Fine. But you’ve no right to play the injured party this time, Pippin," Merry called after him. "You can’t take things without asking and expect others to simply let you by with it."

Pippin didn’t answer, but continued on with the ladder. As he got into the road with it, still shivering, he looked back to see Merry going inside. He sighed and looked up at the roof of the little house. Such a wasted effort, but still, it did look festive. He shifted the ladder and began to drag it through the snow toward the Grubb’s house. This was not going to be pleasant.

Merry was sat by the fireplace having tea and fuming about the afternoon’s events. How could Pippin possibly try to make him out to be the guilty party? He had done nothing except take a dressing down from Mister Grubb that should have been Pippin’s. He had done nothing except retrieve the ladder so that Pippin could get off of the roof. He had done nothing except, well, except take Mister Grubb’s word for the course of events without asking Pippin what had happened. That last part made him feel a bit sick. He had just accepted Mister Grubb’s word, but then again, why would the old hobbit lie?

It was very strange that Pippin hadn’t offered his own version of things. Pippin was always willing to do that. Why, a guilty Pippin had a million reasons for his own actions, but Pippin hadn’t offered up a single word on the subject of the ladder. Not one word. Merry didn’t like the feeling that he was starting to get. Could he have been wrong about this?

Merry shifted in his chair and puffed on his pipe. Why did he feel guilty? Even if he had asked Pippin for his side of things first, the out-come would have been the same. The ladder was Mister Grubb’s property. Pippin should not have taken it without asking and that seemed to be what had happened, didn’t it?

The knock on the door startled him. He wasn’t expecting anyone out in this weather. Pippin had vowed not to return tonight and he had seen his parents earlier in the day. He sighed, in no mood for company, and went to open the door. Maybe Pip had changed his mind and was coming to offer an explanation or at least, an apology.

As he opened the door, the sight that greeted him surprised him. It was Mister Grubb and he had his wife with him. Confused, but feeling the cold air blow into the house, Merry invited them in and shut the door behind them. "You both must be frozen solid. Please come over and warm yourselves by the fire," Merry said. "I’ll put the kettle on and make some more tea." He hoped that this didn’t mean that Pippin had not returned the ladder. If he had to take another of Mister Grubb’s lectures this evening, then he was likely to say more than was wise.

The Grubb’s moved over by the fire and Merry left them to make the tea. From in the kitchen he could hear them muttering to one another. Their voices were low but it was obvious that they were arguing about something. Merry was not looking forward to this visit with the Grubbs. He sighed, tried to remember that everything that he did reflected upon his father who was the Master of Buckland, and took the tea tray in to his most unwelcome guests. It hardly seemed fair that Pippin was to miss this encounter too.

"Please have a seat," Merry said, as he sat the tray on the table and began pouring the tea. "I do hope that the weather isn’t as dreadful as it felt when I opened the door."

"It is," Mister Grubb said with a rather nasty look at his wife who returned his glare full force with one of her own. Merry handed her a cup of tea and waited for the lecture to begin.

"Well, go on," Mrs. Grubb said, looking at her husband. "You best get this over with. We have to get home before the weather gets any worse." She glared at him as he sat like a silent lump on one of Merry’s chairs with his teacup in hand. "Well, I suppose that you expect me to do all of the explaining!"

"This entire thing is your fault to my way of thinking’!" Mister Grubb said, loudly. He then looked at Merry. "Some folks think they’ve a right to speak for you when you aren’t about."

Merry wasn’t sure what his response should be and so he simply extended the sugar bowl in Mister Grubb’s direction and cursed his own luck. "Sugar?"

"He don’t need any ‘o that," Mrs. Grubb said. "Bad for him at this age. Twill keep him up all night if he has it and me along with him."

Mister Grubb glared at her. "See! Always answering for me! Never marry. If you’re smart you’ll stay a bachelor all your life. That is the only way that you’ll be able to speak your own mind without others trying to do it for you."

She stiffened. "You just tell him what we come all this way for in this weather, old goat!"

"I still say it was your doin’, you old shrew," Mister Grubb said, then grabbed the sugar bowl from Merry’s hand and heaped a liberal amount of it into his tea. He glared at her and drank deeply. "If you’d stick to your own business then this sort ’o thing wouldn’t happen!"

"Why don’t you just explain yourself to Meriadoc and let him be the judge of it all," Mrs. Grubb said. "And I’ll not sit up with you while you can’t sleep tonight either!" She pointed angrily at his teacup.

"No one ever asks you to, you old busybody," Mister Grubb said. "You just take it on yourself! That’s your trouble!"

Merry felt as if he were caught between two charging bulls. They continued to hurl insults at one another for several more minutes before Mister Grubb finally came to the point. By then, Merry was desperately wishing that he could run from his own home and go to Brandy Hall and hide underneath his old bed. There were drawbacks to having your own house.

Mister Grubb cleared his throat and began, "It seems that there may have been a bit of a misunderstanding this afternoon." His wife made a noise that sounded a bit like a snort but he ignored her and continued. "When you came by about the ladder I may have misspoke when I called that Took cousin of yours a thief."

Mister Grubb put more sugar in a second cup of tea, offered it as a toast to her, and said, "If you want me to tell this then shut your trap for once in your miserable life!"

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, " Mister Grubb said. "When you came by, I thought that your cousin had stolen that ladder. What I didn’t know and I am sure you’ll agree, couldn’t have known, is that she loaned it to him without my leave!"

Merry felt the air go out of his lungs for a second as he processed this new information. "You mean to say that Pippin didn’t take your ladder?"

"Well, of course he did!" Mister Grubb said. "As far as I’m concerned he did just that because he should have known that, as it was my ladder, it was my permission he would be needin’, not this old sow’s here!" He pointed to his wife. "That ladder is mine and I say who uses it, not her, so yes, he did take it without my leave. The trouble here is that he had her say on it and being foolish enough to think that she could speak for me, which she can’t, he took my ladder!" Mister Grubb was the color of a ripe plum and if Merry hadn’t been so upset by what he was hearing, he might have been worried that the old fella was going to drop over dead in the parlor.

"The lad meant no harm," Mrs. Grubb said. "He helped me take in some things from the market which a certain old goat should have been there to do and so when he asked, all charming and polite like, I gave him my leave to borrow the ladder."

"A ladder that isn’t hers to lend," Mister Grubb said, standing. "Now, we’ve explained. I am going home and if you want a way there other than to walk on your own two feet, you’d best be putting down that teacup and coming along, you old biddy."

Merry was nearly speechless. Nearly. "So, you accused my cousin of being a thief when, in fact, he had permission to take the ladder? You threatened to have him brought before the Master of Buckland when all of the time the truth was that you didn’t realize that your wife had loaned the ladder to Pippin? Then you come by and take the ladder and leave him stranded on the roof in the cold!"

"I am very sure that the Master of Buckland would see it otherwise," Merry said, folding his arms across his chest. "In fact, I suspect that he might have a thing or two to say about a hobbit who would leave another stranded out in the cold on a roof on a day like this!"

"I didn’t know he was up there," Mister Grubb said, less sure of himself. "I only wanted to get my property is all."

"You should have checked," Merry said, fiercely. His desire to defend Pippin was becoming very strong especially in light of the guilt that he felt over his own part in all of this. "You don’t just take ladders away from a place without checking!"

"He didn’t mean no harm," Mrs. Grubb said, softly, putting her arm around her husband and looking at Merry. "It was my fault for not telling him that I’d loaned the ladder to your cousin."

"You aren’t going to the Master on this are you? You wouldn’t would you?" Mister Grubb asked, patting his wife’s hand. "She’d be scandalized by all of this. Think of the gossip!" He looked at Merry imploringly and then over at his wife. Was this the same hobbit who’d threatened to make her walk home in the snow just minutes before?

Merry could hardly believe this sudden change in attitude. If asked to guess before this, he’d have told anyone that these two hated one another. Now, he wasn’t altogether sure. "I won’t go to the Master, and partly because I know that my father would not take kindly to your words regarding Tooks, Mister Grubb. I found them offensive myself. No, I think this is best left as it is. You and your wife go on home before the storm gets worse. I think we’ve settled this."

Mister Grubb bolted out of the door leaving Mrs. Grubb to say their good-byes. "What about the lad? Will he feel the need to speak to the Master about this? He didn’t seem the sort when he brought back the ladder, but still, you never know." She was wringing her hands.

"He isn’t the sort and I do know that," Merry said. "I am the one that your husband does not want to run afoul of in the future. If he wants to stay out of trouble, then he will not speak unkindly of my cousin or any other Took in my presence. He would be wise not to bother Peregrin Took." Merry gave her a rather stern look and then continued. "You had better leave before he leaves without you."

"Oh, he’d never do such as that," she said with a slight smile. "He only threatens. He isn’t that way at all." She walked to the door and then said. "I guess the ladder was for the Yule decorations. Tell the lad that they are lovely." Having said that, she left.

Merry waited until he heard their wagon go and then put on his coat and went out to look up at the roof. There, glinting in the moonlight against the soft background of white snow, were dozens of twinkling brightly colored balls. The balls were hung on tinsel and strung all across the top of the house. They glimmered and reflected in the cold night. They were beautiful. Merry suspected that they would be even more lovely on a clear night with star light bouncing off of them. How could he have missed seeing them before?

Merry came into the kitchen of Brandy Hall and hurried over to warm himself by the fire. Even on his pony, it had been a cold journey through the snow in the night air. He extended his rather numb fingers out toward the fire, grateful for the warmth. He could feel bits of snow melt and drip off of his hair.

From beside of the fire in his favorite rocker, Saradoc said, quietly. "Still snowing out?"

Merry turned and caught sight of his father for the first time since entering the kitchen. "Yes, it is." He slipped off his coat and lay it on another chair and looked at his father. "Is Pippin here?"

"No, but your mum and I know enough about you two to know that there’s been trouble," Saradoc said. "I can tell by looking at you now, even if I hadn’t see it in Pippin’s eyes earlier."

His mother interrupted them at that moment and walked over, hands on her hips and lips in a tight line. "It’s past time that you got yourself here, Meriadoc. Now, you go on to your room and straighten this mess out so that I can get some rest. I won’t sleep until I know that you’ve settled this with your cousin."

"My room?" Merry asked, looking guiltily at his mother. He was far past the age of being sent to his room for his actions.

"I put Pippin in your old room, of course," she said, Tookish accent thick. "Where else would I be puttin’ him after he finally warmed up? Poor thing was near froze to death"

"Only that he’d been working on the roof of your house most of the day in the cold," Esmeralda said. She softened a bit and then continued. "Whatever you two are fussing over, it has him very upset. He wouldn’t give me any explanation."

"I know you two," Esmeralda said, smiling. "If he’s at fault then he comes in here apologizing and tells the entire thing whether I want to hear it or not. If you are to blame, then I can’t drag the information out of him. Besides, you have that guilty look in your eyes, my darlin’ lad. I’ve seen it before. You’ve been beating yourself up over this, haven’t you? It would be better for both you and Pippin if you woke him up and spoke your piece."

Merry smiled at her. "I hope that when I have children, I will know what they’ve been up to the way that you do."

"This is a mother’s trick," Esmeralda said, gently. "If you marry well enough, then your own dear lass will let you know what the children have been up to. Now, go and see Pippin."

Merry knocked but he didn’t wait for an invitation. He entered his old bedroom and sat the candle he’d been carrying on the table next to the bed. Pippin turned over to face him and sat up. He squinted his eyes as he became used to the light. "Why are you here?" Pippin asked, frowning. "Have you come by to accuse me of stealing something else? Did someone you hardly know drop by and tell you that I’d taken their pony or is something else missing that you can blame me for?"

Merry sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at Pippin. "You have every right to be angry with me. I deserve it."

"Will it help you at all to know that I have just spent a very unpleasant evening with the Grubbs?" Merry asked. "Will it help you to know that they had a full-out argument in our parlor with me in the middle? Will it help in any way for you to know that my mum is a bit put out with me for whatever it is that I’ve done to you?"

"Not much, but some," Pippin said, after a minute. He looked down at the blankets and began to trace his finger over the design in the quilt. "You think I’m a thief, don’t you?" he said sounding hurt.

"I did think that you’d taken the ladder, Pip," Merry said. "That was my mistake. You used to be quite good at that sort of thing. I know because I taught you most of it." Merry waited a minute and then continued. "I’m very sorry that I didn’t ask you what had happened first. I was wrong. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Pip, honest."

"You did, though," Pippin said, softly. "I count on you to believe me, Merry, even when no one else will."

Merry could see the hurt in Pippin’s eyes and he felt his stomach twist into a knot. "I know that and I know that you have every right to be very angry with me, Pip, but please believe me when I say that I’m sorry. I would take it all back if I could," Merry said, taking one of Pippin’s hands in his. "I know better. I know that I can trust you. I will do anything to make this up to you, Pip. Please forgive me."

Pippin looked at him for a moment and then slowly broke into a small smile. "Buy me an extra present for Yule?" His eyes twinkled with mischief. He had already received what he wanted from Merry. The apology was really enough, but he couldn’t let Merry know that.

Merry smiled back at him. "Anything you like," Merry said and meant it. He couldn’t stand it when he hurt Pippin. "Especially after the lovely thing that you did today."

"The decorations are beautiful, Pippin," Merry said. "The little house looks almost magical with those decorations on it. The colors remind me of Gandalf’s fireworks."

Pippin grinned broadly. "I’m glad you liked them, Merry. I wanted to surprise you and decorate the house for Yule. I know how much the little house means to you. I wanted it to look special."

Later as Merry stretched out beside of Pippin to go to sleep, he asked, "So Pip, what sort of extra present do you want for Yule?"

Pippin snickered. "I’d like a ladder of my own, Merry. Oh, and be sure to wrap it. I want to be surprised."

Merry tried hard not to snicker as he slipped over to the sofa next to his sleeping cousin. Pippin was stretched out on his stomach with one foot hanging over the edge of the sofa. As Merry drew near, Pippin twitched a bit and yawned. Merry remained perfectly still and waited to be sure that Pippin had not awakened. Behind the sofa, Frodo stood trying hard not to giggle. It was an effort, but so far he was managing. He watched Merry move slowly forward. In Merry’s hand, was a small string of tiny sleigh bells wrapped in one of Frodo’s clean handkerchiefs to muffle their gentle ringing. The two lads couldn’t risk waking Pippin now. It would spoil everything.

Merry carefully leaned forward and unwrapped the bells. Being quick, but quiet, he laced one end of the leather chord through the hole in the waist band of Pippin’s trousers where his braces usually were fastened and secured it with a knot, he then lay the bells across the middle of Pippin’s trousers and secured the other end into the other hole and made another knot. He backed up slowly and surveyed his work.

The tiny bells were each barely the size of a shire penny and all were hooked to the leather chord. The chord itself was no more than three inches or so long and would be hard to untie without removing the trousers. Merry looked over at Frodo and the two of them grinned broadly. Now all they had to do was wait.

The two older cousins left the parlor and went into the kitchen to get something to eat, congratulating each other as they went.

Some time later, Pippin stretched and sat up on the sofa. He hadn’t remembered falling asleep, but he guessed that he had been tired after sitting up most of the night with Merry and Frodo. The three of them had laughed and talked until very nearly morning. So, when his aunt had called them all to breakfast, Pippin had still been tired. Sometimes a nice, long nap was just what was needed. He squinted at the clock on the mantle amid all of the laurels that decorated it for the Yule season, and noticed that it was nearly time for tea.

“I won’t if you don’t,” Merry whispered, and bit his lip hard to avoid laughing as the sound of the bells increased.

Esmeralda Brandybuck was just placing the cups on the table when Pippin came into the kitchen looking confused and very rumbled. She sighed. “Where are your braces?”

Pippin stopped in the doorway and shrugged. “I took them off after lunch and I ‘m not sure where I put them,” Pippin admitted. “I’ll find them after tea, Aunt Esme.”

“You are very lucky that I am not sending you back to dress properly before I let you eat, Peregrin Took,” she said, pinching his cheek and grinning at him. “You look like an unmade bed.” She sighed at his wrinkled trousers and his shirt, which was hanging out over his trousers.

She frowned. For the life of her she would have sworn that she was hearing sleigh bells. She put a finger in her ear and wiggled it. No, the noise had stopped now. She wondered if she might be getting an ear infection. None of the lads had seemed to hear it. No matter, it was gone now.

“You’re both up to something,” Pippin said, leaning his head to one side and studying them. Both of his older cousins just had that look about them. They were definitely up to no good. “What have you done?” he whispered leaning forward so that his aunt wouldn’t hear.

The two of them could be exasperating at times. He knew they’d done something, but finding out what might prove difficult.

“Merry, have you seen your father? This tea is ready and I would like to serve while it’s still hot,” Esmeralda said.

“Well, if he isn’t here soon then we will simply start without him,” she said and she heard the jingling noise again for some reason. It reminded her of something but she wasn’t sure what. She was very sure that she should know and yet it wasn’t coming to her. Well, it had stopped again.

“I suppose that all of you are waiting on me, aren’t you?” Saradoc said, coming into the kitchen and saving Merry who had been about to laugh.

“Yes, we are,” Esmeralda said. She hurried over and sat a plate of cheese and bread on the table next to the biscuits and the scones. “But we wouldn’t have waited much longer.”

“That is what I figured,” Saradoc said, pulling out his chair and taking a seat. As he did so, Pippin sat down across from him and for some reason Saradoc heard bells. He frowned and shook his head. When he listened again, the sound was gone or lost among the chatter of the three lads now seated at the table.

From time to time all during tea Pippin thought that he could hear tiny bells ringing. He would sit very still to listen for them and then they would just stop. It was strange because Merry and Frodo didn’t seem to hear anything. Once or twice his aunt had appeared to be listening for something, but that might have been his imagination. He wondered what it was.

They all ate and talked of tomorrow’s Yule party. Guests would be filling the Hall this year like they always did. Frodo had come early so that he could visit with Merry and Pippin before the crowds arrived. Frodo had never been fond of crowds. He preferred quiet visits with his cousins. A little mischief was all right though, he grinned, thinking of the bells. Pippin had been here at the Hall for about a month now and was staying through Yule.

“Are there any more biscuits?” Pippin asked, looking mournfully at the empty platter. The seventeen-year-old was practically bottomless. The lad was always hungry.

“Over on the counter, Pippin,” Esmeralda said, “But don’t get too many. I don’t want you making yourself sick for Yule.”

“I won’t,” Pippin said, grinning. He got up from his chair and hurried over to get more of the delicious biscuits. As he did so, both Saradoc and Esmeralda heard the sound of the tiny bells again. Pippin must have heard it also because when he got to the counter he appeared to be listening for something. Merry and Frodo were both very interested in their plates suddenly. They were both looking down and Saradoc noticed that Merry’s shoulders were shaking.

“Does anyone else hear little bells?” Pippin asked, turning. “There it is again!” He frowned. “It’s gone now.”

Helpless to keep himself from doing so, Merry burst into a fit of giggles and Frodo soon joined him. Pippin frowned at them. “Well, I do hear something. It comes and goes, but I do hear it.” He took a step forward with the tray in his hands and then stopped. “There!” he said. “Did you hear that?”

Merry laughed and shook his head back and forth and Frodo buried his face in his hands.

Esmeralda suddenly smiled. She remembered where she had heard those little bells before. “Meriadoc, what have you done?” she asked, looking over at her son and arching an eyebrow.

“Yes, Merry, what have you done?” Pippin asked, walking over to the table and setting the biscuit tray down. He frowned. “I heard it again!” He stood there looking perplexed. “What is so funny?”

“Uncle Doc didn’t you hear any wee bells?” Pippin asked turning to look at Merry’s father. “There! I heard it again!”

Merry fell out of his chair and Frodo groaned. “Get up, Merry,” Frodo snickered. From the floor Merry giggled madly, but made no effort to get up.

“I do too hear something,” Pippin said, taking a step toward Merry and stopping again.

Pippin looked at his cousins and then at his uncle. “You heard it didn’t you?”

“Yes, I certainly did,” Saradoc said. “Now, you might want to pay attention as to exactly when you hear it and when you don’t. That might help to clear things up.”

“Yes, Merry, what have you done?” Frodo asked, looking serious and controlling his laughter for the moment, which made Merry laugh all the more.

“Well he’s done something,” Pippin said, starting over toward his older cousins and then stopping. His eyes widened. “They only ring when, when I move!” He glared at Merry who was trying to get off of the floor now amid giggles.

Pippin looked down at the front of his clothing and put his hands in his trouser pockets and turned them inside out. No bells. He looked at his shirt and then down at his feet. In a panic, he ran his hands through his hair thinking that Merry might have tied little bells to his curls but he couldn’t feel anything but hair. “What did you do?” he asked, becoming annoyed.

Pippin took a step in Merry’s direction and then stopped. He reached behind him and felt the string of small bells hanging on his waistband behind him. He reached his hands beneath his shirt and tugged at the bells, which tinkled in response to this action and sent Merry and Frodo into fits of laughter again.

Pippin tried to figure out how they were attached, feeling the chord with his hands and trying to untie it, but he was unable to remove it. “Get these off of me!” he demanded, glaring at Merry and then at Frodo. “Well?”

“What’s the matter, Pip?” Merry smirked. “Don’t you like the way that I’ve decorated you for Yule? You’re like a tiny Tookish sleigh. Very festive.”

Pippin stomped over to Merry and glared up at him. “You take these off now!”

“Easy, Pippin,” Frodo said. “All you have to do is slip your trousers off and you can untie them yourself.”

“I’ll not take my trousers off in the kitchen!” Pippin objected. “Get these off of me!”

Pippin looked at him. “It isn’t funny!” Suddenly he felt his aunt’s arms around him and he looked over at her. She was smiling. “You think it’s funny too, don’t you?” He sighed and folded his arms over his chest.

“From the moment you came into the kitchen and I started hearing those wee bells, I kept thinking that the sound reminded me of something and now I remember what,” she said.

“I don’t suppose that I will,” Pippin said, sulkily. “I never remember anything because all of the stories that you all tell happened before I was born.”

“This one happened after you were born and you just might remember part of it,” Esmeralda smiled, pulling the little string of bells as she spoke.

Pippin winced and his older cousins laughed again. “All right, then what is the story?” he asked, resigned. They were all intent on remembering something and he would get no help or sympathy until they finished with it.

She gave him a hug and sat down at the table. “Well, sit down, and I’ll tell it,” Esmeralda said.

Frodo slid into Pippin’s chair so that his younger cousin could sit next to their aunt and Pippin sat in Frodo’s chair amid a tinkling of bells. He blushed and took a biscuit to avoid looking at the others who were all enjoying this way too much.

“When you first started coming here to stay with us, you were a tiny babe and very easy to keep up with,” Esmeralda said. “You didn’t walk and you stayed were I put you unless another family member came along and got you and carried you off. Merry was at that age were he was always running and always into something.”

“Funny, Frodo,” Merry said, and looked at his mother. “I thought this was a story about Pippin, not an embarrassing ‘little Merry’ story.”

“You are in the story, because you are part of the reason that I did what I did,” Esmeralda said.

“Well, after a time, you began to crawl and soon after you were running through the smial after the older lads,” Esmeralda said. “You never walked. You were always running. You were quick and very hard to keep track of because you simply took off without any warning.” She smiled and then looked over at Merry. “Merry was trying to be the big lad at this point and he was all of about eleven or so. I had to keep both eyes on each of you and because I only have two eyes, I needed some help.” She smiled at Saradoc. “You, were out working all of the time and I was trying to mind a wee one and a eleven-year-old and so I got a bit creative.”

“What did you do?” Pippin asked, shifting in spite of his efforts to keep still and making the bells ring.

She smiled at him. “I took some of those tiny, wee, bells that you are wearing now and sewed them to the bottom of your trousers. That way when you got the urge to run off, I would hear you even if I didn’t see you at first. Also, you were easier to find if you happened to crawl under the table or behind the sofa while you were playing. I would just listen for a minute and I’d hear you jingling and then I’d follow the noise and collect you.”

Merry and Frodo laughed and Pippin turned red to the tips of his ears. “You belled me like a cow?”

“I did,” she said. “It made it easier to keep up with you while watching Merry.”

“Because it doesn’t work for very long,” she smiled. “When you were tiny, you didn’t even notice the bells. Then when you were about two and a half, you found them and would crawl about giggling and laughing at the noise that you were making. You liked them."

“Exactly my point,” Esmeralda said. “You see, when you got to be about three, I had to sew them to the back of your pants just about where the ones that your wearing now are to keep you from pulling them off and eating them.”

“Well, three-year-old hobbits will eat anything that they can put in their mouths,” Esmeralda said. “I remember Frodo once swallowed two Shire pennies.”

“I like the one about the jingle bells better,” Frodo said quickly. “I remember it well. I used to call you that and you would run over and let me pick you up.”

“I did too,” Frodo smiled. “I'd look over at you and I’d say, come here little jingle bells and you’d laugh and run over and climb into my lap.”

“I used to pick you up and shake you when no one was looking,” Merry said, grinning. “You made a very nice sound.”

Esmeralda cleared her throat and said, “Anyway, I moved the bells to the back of your little trousers so you wouldn’t eat them and that worked out just fine until you were about four and a half.” She smiled. “I had you in the kitchen playing with you blocks in the floor while I did some baking. I was having a very busy morning. Merry was in bed with a cold and I was running back and forth between his room and the kitchen. I would go to check on him and then come back in here with you. At first, I was taking you with me, but on about the tenth trip, I had my hands full with a lunch tray and you were playing so well that I risked leaving you alone for long enough to take the tray to Merry. I don’t know where my mind was.”

“What happened?” Merry asked. “What did our little jingle bells get into?”

Pippin glared at Merry and then over at Frodo. “Thank you so much for telling that part of it all, Frodo.”

Pippin shifted to return his gaze to his aunt and the bells tinkled again. Merry snorted and Pippin moaned, “I hate you, Merry."

“I know, and I don't care,” Merry grinned, though he knew that nothing was further from the truth.

“Well, I returned to the kitchen to find that you were gone. Your blocks were all over the floor but you were nowhere to be seen. I didn’t panic at first because I was counting on the little bells,” Esmeralda said. “I stood and listened, but I didn’t hear anything and so I called out to you but you didn’t answer. I checked the back door first. I didn’t think you were tall enough to have let yourself out, but it was one of my worst fears. It was still locked and so I tried going out of the kitchen and toward the parlour,” she smiled. “You liked to go into the parlour and knock over your uncle’s chess set and play with the pieces.”

“You were at times but it was our fault for spoiling you the way we did,” Esmeralda said.

Pippin groaned. “Yes, that’s why you’ve put bells on me and embarrassed the life out of me, to spoil me further.”

“No, I did that because Frodo and I thought it would be funny and you were asleep and we were bored,” Merry said. “I had no idea there was a story.”

Esmeralda cleared her throat and pretended to be irritated though she was used to this sort of thing. “As I got close to the parlour, I found your trousers.”

“You’d figured out that I couldn’t hear you jingling if you didn’t have them on. You couldn’t get the bells off by yourself and so you had to take your trousers off.”

“I didn’t find him for nearly an hour,” Esmeralda said. "Because he had gotten too clever for me and I was doing something that alerted him to my presence."

“I was carrying around a tiny pair of trousers with bells on them,” Esmeralda said. “I never thought about Pippin hearing the sound and keeping ahead of me.”

Now, everyone was laughing. “I finally realized my mistake and put the trousers down on a chair. The moment I did that and it was quiet for a minute, here came Pippin running over to me and looking up at me. He grinned, standing there in his small clothes and his shirt and he said, ‘Don’t you wanna play any more?’” She laughed. “I picked him up and I asked him what we were playing. And he said, we were playing, 'find Pippin' and that it worked better without the bells.” She leaned over and kissed her nephew and said, “that is why you can only put jingle bells on very little children.”

“I don’t know, mum,” Merry grinned. “Frodo and I managed to put them on a much older child.”

“I am not a child,” Pippin said. “And I am going to go and take these trousers off now.” He stood, jingling. “Oh, and don’t think that I won’t be getting even with both of you, because I will.” He turned to go and left his older cousins laughing as he jingled his way out of the room.

Merry made himself comfortable and pulled the top of his bedroll up underneath his chin with a deep sigh. It had been a very long day and he was grateful that it was over. Travel could be exhausting. Surely at some point there would be a better way to get from one place to another. He was reminded of one of Gaffer Gamgee’s sayings; “If folks have the need to go somewhere different, best to pick a place close to home so if you don’t like it as well as you’d hoped then it’ll be easier to get back.” He chuckled silently and began to drift off to sleep with a trace of a smile on his face.

Pippin sat up for the third time that evening and squinted in the direction of the trees. There was something moving around in there. He was convinced of it. Every time he started to drift off, he would hear the snap of a twig or the rustle of leaves. Something or someone was just out of sight in the darkness. He shivered and drew his blanket around him tightly and looked up at the sky nervously. How could Merry sleep with all of that noise going on? Surely he heard it. Wasn’t he at all worried? Pippin frowned over at his older cousin. He could just make out Merry’s shape in the darkness.

He wished there were more stars out. It was friendlier with the light of stars. For a moment he thought about how Frodo had first taught him the names of some of the stars when he was still very small. He remembered sitting outside in the evening with Frodo and asking him the names of the stars. Frodo had been so patient with him. He had never minded the constant questions. Well, almost never. Pippin jerked back a bit as another sound somewhere just outside of their camp assaulted his ears.

“What are you doing?” Merry groaned, as he felt someone arranging blankets extremely close to his own bedroll.

“Nothing, Merry,” Pippin answered, lying down as close to his older cousin as he possibly could without laying on top of him. “Go on back to sleep.”

“Move over,” Merry grunted. “You are practically smothering me.” He propped himself up on one elbow and eyed his younger cousin who was now lying on his side with his face turned away from him. Pippin was curled up in his own bedroll trying to look as if he had been sleeping there all along. Merry gave his cousin’s shoulder a gentle nudge. “Go back over there and sleep.”

“Peregrin Took, it is late spring and as hot as it has ever been this time of the year,” Merry said, lying back down with a slight smile on his face. “We nearly roasted alive this afternoon. As I recall, you kept complaining about the heat all day long until I finally agreed to make camp early.”

“I did not!” Pippin objected. “You said your feet were hurting and so I agreed to stop. I could have gone on for several hours more. In fact, I wanted to.”

Merry groaned. “Then why don’t you get a head start now while I get some sleep. Go on,” he said, poking Pippin in the ribs. “I’ll catch up to you in time for second breakfast.”

“I am not traipsing about in the dark,” Pippin said, worriedly. “Besides, you’d never find me. You’d wander about in these woods until you starved to death more than likely.”

“You would!” Pippin said, turning to face him. “You’d be lost without me!”

“I'd be sound asleep without you is what I would be, Peregrin Took,” Merry laughed. “You got us turned around twice today on the way here or have you forgotten?”

“Now, go lay down over there so that I can sleep, will you?” Merry said, gently. “This is a very long trip, and I am very tired and you are old enough to sleep by yourself, you know.”

“Maybe I’ll just sit up for a while,” Pippin sighed, and he rose up slowly and wrapped his arms around his knees.

“No, you’re not,” Merry said. “I’ve known you all of your life and you are not cold. You’re nervous.” He opened his eyes and regarded Pippin. “What’s bothering you?”

“I think there’s something out there, just beyond the trees,” Pippin said, worriedly.

“Well, it could be anything I suppose,” Pippin said, looking toward the trees. “I can’t see very well in the dark.”

“Twigs snapping and trees rustling and all manner of little annoying noises,” Pippin said with a shiver.

“Lay down,” Merry sighed, patting Pippin’s blankets with his hand. He waited while Pippin got comfortable and then he put an arm around him. “Now, go to sleep. Just remember that at my advanced age, if anything does come out of those woods, it will likely kill us both before I am fully awake.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say things like that, Merry,” Pippin said. “You aren’t so very old as all that.”

Merry snickered. “I am nearly one-hundred and three years of age, Peregrin Took. How old do I have to be before you notice it?”

“I know how old you are,” Pippin growled. “But you aren’t feeble. You could defend yourself if you had to.” He scooted his back into Merry’s chest as he spoke.

“Well, I suppose if I heard it coming and it was moving very slowly and I was already standing with my sword in my hands and it fell forward onto the point of it, then I might be of some use to you,” Merry said, sarcastically. “Would you feel better if I got up and got my sword? Whatever is about to attack us might just die laughing at the sight of a very old hobbit with a sword in his hands.” Merry smiled.

“I should feel a great deal better if you would just allow me to sleep here next to you. I would feel safer if you must know,” Pippin said, softly. Before Merry could reply he continued, in a rather cheeky tone, "Also, I do believe that standing about and letting it fall on my sword was how I managed to kill that Troll. You should be more than able to protect us if it turns out to be another Troll."

“All right then, but you do realize that when we reach Gondor, I will have to tell how you needed my protection on our journey,” Merry said in an amused tone.

“Oh, indeed,” Merry said with a chuckle. “I’ll wait for just the right moment when all of our dear friends are all gathered together and then I will tell them how a Knight of Rohan was forced to stand guard over a frightened Knight of Gondor.” He tightened his grip on his younger cousin.

“Go ahead then, only just see to it that you do protect me,” Pippin said, nervously.

Suddenly it dawned on Merry what this was about and he sighed. “Why didn’t you say something when we stopped?”

Pippin exhaled. “You were tired and your feet were sore and it seemed silly while the sun was still out.”

Now, Pippin laughed. “Two old hobbits wandering about in the dark? Wouldn’t that beat all? No, I’m fine right here.”

“I truly didn’t notice how close that we are to the place where we were camping on that night so long ago,” Merry admitted. “If I had I might not have stayed here myself.”

Merry ran a hand through his cousin’s curls and held him. “They’re all gone, Pip. No more fell beasts and no more Nazgul to fly over in the dark. Frodo saw to that a long time ago. You’re as safe here as you are anywhere.”

“I still hear his voice sometimes,” Pippin shuddered and Merry knew that his cousin didn’t mean Frodo’s voice.

“I still see you lying in the dark with Gandalf’s hand on your face in my dreams once in a while,” Merry admitted. “This place holds no pleasant memories for either of us and I am sorry that we made camp here.” He felt a bit ill when he thought of how close he had come to losing Pippin to the Dark Lord because of the Palantir and an over-abundance of Tookish curiousity.

“At least, I won’t have to ride off and leave you this time,” Pippin said.

“I won’t allow it,” Merry said, giving Pippin a firm squeeze. “Now, try to sleep and we will put this place behind us as soon as my old bones are able to stir in the morning.”

“No? Just who do you think you’re talking to, you silly Took?” Merry asked.

“The finest Master of Buckland that there ever was or will be, a Knight of the Mark who has been sent for by his King, one of the Nine Walkers, a writer of some of the most boring books in all of the Shire, a father to several rather intelligent hobbits, Meriadoc the Magnificent,” Pippin said, softly.

“I suppose so,” Merry admitted, a bit taken aback but pleased at being thought of as something other than an extremely old hobbit in his last years and on what he had come to think of as a downhill slide. His life’s accomplishments, when listed thusly by Pippin, did impress even himself.

“Only just now, could you do me a favor and just be my older cousin, Merry who looks after me when I’m frightened?” Pippin requested, meekly sounding very like he had when he had been no more than a teen.

“That is one of my very favorite things to be, Pip,” Merry said, hugging his cousin. “Oh, and don’t worry that I will tell this to anyone. At my age, I will have likely forgotten it before we stop for lunch tomorrow. I can hardly be expected to remember this all the way to Gondor.”

“I am counting on that very thing. In fact, I am hoping to forget this myself,” Pippin said and he yawned. “I think that I can sleep for a bit now that I know that you are standing watch.”

“Go ahead then,” Merry said. “I’m here.” He lay there next to Pippin listening to his younger cousin’s breathing. And it was quite a while before he slept. His head was too full of thoughts and his heart was too full of love for his cousin. It felt good to be needed. Pippin was right, Merry decided. He wasn't all that old.

In the spring of the year a message came from Rohan to Buckland that the King Eomer wished to see Master Holdwine once again. Meriadoc was then old (102) but still hale. He took counsel with his friend the Thain, and soon after they handed over their goods and offices to their sons and rode away over the Sarn Ford, and they were not seen again in the Shire. _ J. R. R. Tolkien

Pippin tripped again, catching himself with his out-stretched hands. He heard laughter and felt himself blush as he straightened back up onto his feet, resigned to an afternoon of ridicule and bruises. His knees were already sore and his palms were fast catching up to them.

The laughter had faded and several of his tormentors were now calling him by name and coming dangerously close to him but not close enough. He swung blindly about reaching for them with his hands and catching only air. Reluctant to try again, but knowing that he must, Pippin took several steps forward with his hands in front of him and hoped that he wasn’t near any trees. All he needed now was to stub a toe on a tree root. How he hated this game!

The blindfold was hot in the afternoon sun and was tied a bit too tightly for comfort. It seemed to him that he had been the blind-hobbit for a very long time now. His cousins had all been quick to catch someone when they had been in his position and he was feeling more frustrated by the minute. He could hear feet running on the soft grass and feel the rush of wind as others ran past him and out of reach. The laughter continued mingled with shouts of his name and general taunts about how terrible he was at this game. He wanted to quit but he didn’t want to take the teasing he would receive if he did that. He was the youngest one playing and he would not give up and let them call him a baby or a quitter.

He took a few more steps forward and lunged at someone passing by close enough to make his hair move and missed, falling down again. He crawled forward waving an arm in front of him in the hopes of striking someone while peals of laughter assaulted his ears. Sighing deeply, he stood again and moved forward hoping that someone would take pity on him and allow him to catch them. He stumbled along slowly waving his arms in all directions and meeting no resistance. Soon his tormentors were silent and he had no clues as to their location to guide him in his search. He hated being in the dark like this. He could feel the sun on his over-heated face, but he could see nothing through the tightly wrapped blindfold.

He had stood still and allowed one of his older cousins to tie it about his eyes. “Now, don’t cheat. There is no peeking,” his cousin had reminded him sternly. Pippin had promised to play fairly and he had kept his word even though he suspected that some of the others had peeked. Some of them just had to be cheating in some way because they never fell and they always caught someone quickly. Pippin waved his arms about and spun himself in a circle which almost cost him his balance again.

From the road as they walked back from fishing, Merry and Fredegar could see a curious sight just ahead of them. “What do you suppose he’s doing, Merry?” Fredegar asked, pointing toward Pippin.

“I don’t know,” Merry admitted, squinting against the sunlight in an effort to have a better look at his little cousin. “I think he’s wearing a blindfold of some sort.” He watched Pippin stagger about with his hands held out in front of himself.

“Why would he do that?” Fredegar asked, curiously. He didn’t always understand Pippin Took and he relied on Merry to clear things up. Merry always seemed to know what was going on, but this time, it seemed that Merry was as confused by Pippin’s actions as he was. “Why would anyone don a blindfold and wander about a deserted meadow in this heat?”

Merry groaned as understanding dawned. “No one would, Freddy,” he sighed, quickening his pace and cutting across the meadow toward Pippin.

Fredegar followed his younger cousin at a slower pace. Merry would explain at some point now that he knew what was what. There was no reason to hurry in this heat. The little hobbit didn’t seem to be in any sort of trouble. He let Merry run ahead of him.

Pippin felt hands on his shoulders and swung about smacking someone a bit too hard in the face in his exuberance. “I got you! You’re it!”

“Ouch!” Merry said, rubbing the side of his face. “Easy, Pip Squeak. That hurts.”

Pippin fumbled with the blindfold and found that he was unable to move it upward and off of his eyes. He sighed and reached for the knot at the back clumsily. “Merry, is that you?” he said as he tried to untie the hated blindfold with no success.

“It’s me,” Merry said. “Hold still and let me get that thing off of you.” He turned the little hobbit around and knelt in the grass to remove the blindfold. “Someone has really tied this in place far too well,” Merry complained as he slowly worked to untie the knot beneath his nimble fingers.

“Toby tied it on,” Pippin said. “I didn’t know that you were playing, Merry. I didn’t see you before but I was blindfolded and so I don't guess that I would see you, would I?”

Merry sighed and slid the blindfold from Pippin’s face revealing two relieved-looking green eyes that squinted back at him in the bright sunlight. He used the blindfold to wipe away some of the sweat on his little cousin’s face and smiled at him. “Is that better?”

Pippin smiled back and nodded. “It’s very hot, Merry. I hope you don’t have to be the blind hobbit for very long,” Pippin said, sympathetically and then looked up to see Fredegar approaching them. “There’s Freddy. Do you suppose that he is going to play too?”

Merry hated to do it, but someone had to tell the poor child the truth of his situation. “Pip, I think you’ve been tricked,” Merry began, gently. “There isn’t anyone else here but you. I think they went off and left you.”

Pippin looked all around them, lower lip trembling slightly. “They were here,” he said, softly.

“I’m sure they were,” Merry said, trying not to let his anger get the better of him and keeping his voice calm. “I suspect that they are playing a joke on you, Pip.”

Pippin swallowed and nodded. He flushed in embarrassment and looked at his feet. “I guess I looked pretty silly when you came by,” he mumbled as tears started to form at the corners of his eyes. “I guess it was a funny joke, wasn’t it?” he tried, feeling foolish and small.

“I don’t think it was very funny at all,” Merry said as Fredegar joined them.

“So, is everything alright?” Fredegar asked, seeing the tears on Pippin’s face.

“A bit hot, Pippin,” Freddy admitted. He gave a questioning look at Merry, but received no answer.

“You missed a really good joke, Freddy,” Pippin said, a bit too brightly as the tears slowly leaked from his eyes and onto his cheeks. “I got left here thinking that everyone was playing blind-hobbit with me, only they were gone. Isn’t that funny?” He sniffled and ran his sleeve across his face.

“I don’t think that I would call it funny if it had been me that they’d left out here in this heat,” Freddy frowned.

“It wasn’t that funny really,” Pippin sniffled and then gave up trying to be brave and wrapped his arms around Merry. He buried his face in Merry’s shoulder and cried while Merry patted his back. “It wasn’t a bit funny,” Pippin whimpered.

“No, it wasn’t,” Merry agreed, picking the child up in his arms. “I don’t think you should play with them for a while, Pip.”

“Then what’ll I do?” Pippin asked, sadly. “I don’t want to play by myself and it took me ever so long just to get them to let me play with them to begin with, Merry. They said I was too little to play and that I’d cheat or cry if I lost, but I didn’t cheat and I didn’t cry until I found out that they had played this unfunny joke on me. You won’t tell them I cried will you, Merry?”

“Of course not,” Freddy said, patting the child on the head and smiling at him. “It will be our secret.”

Pippin looked over Merry’s shoulder at Fredegar and smiled back. “I can just pretend that I thought it was funny and then they will let me play with them tomorrow too,” Pippin said, brightly.

“They were only teasing me, Merry,” Pippin said. “They didn’t mean to make me cry or anything. It was supposed to be a joke. They're my friends.”

Merry sighed, knowing that Pippin was completely wrong. He was very tempted to tell the child the truth but thought better of it. Pippin had been hurt enough today. “I guess you’re right, Pip,” Merry said with a great deal of effort. “I don’t suppose that you’d rather do something with me tomorrow instead of playing with your friends, would you?”

Pippin’s eyes brightened and he gave Merry a genuine smile that lit up his entire face, dried tears and all. “Really, Merry? You want me to do something with you tomorrow? I thought you were busy doing things with the older lads, like Fredegar.”

Fredegar spoke before Merry could answer. “Merry and I could use some company tomorrow, Pippin. Things are just more entertaining when you have more friends along.”

“So, what do you think, Pip?” Merry asked, with a smile over at Fredegar. “Do you think you might be able to leave your other friends on their own tomorrow and spend some time with Freddy and me?”

“Oh yes, Merry,” Pippin said, giving his cousin a hug and then pulling back and smiling at him. “What shall we do? I'll do whatever you and Fredegar want to.” He suddenly frowned. “You aren’t going to play blind-hobbit are you?”

Merry grinned at him. “No, that game is for little hobbits, Pip. We’re too old for it. I’m afraid that you might have to settle for a day of boating and fishing if you come with us.”

“Can I row the boat if I’m good?” Pippin asked, excited and already forgetting his dreadful afternoon in anticipation of a day of fishing with Merry.

“I suspose so, but only for a bit and only if you follow my instructions,” Merry said, returning Pippin’s smile.

“Do you think I’ll catch anything? Did you catch anything today?” Pippin asked.

“We caught a few today, but I'm sure there are plenty more of them left for us to catch tomorrow,” Merry said, setting Pippin down and pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. He turned Pippin to face him and cleaned the tear-streaks from his cousin’s face. “Now, when we get to the Hall, just pretend that you figured out what they were doing right away and that you played along for a bit and then took off the blindfold by yourself, understand?”

“No, this is self-defense, Pippin,” Merry said. “You can’t let them know that they completely fooled you or they might try it again. You have to act as if you knew and that you didn’t mind. Do you understand?”

“Not really,” Pippin admitted. “But if you say so, then I’m sure it’s right, Merry.”

“Just try to remember that you can’t trust everyone the way you trust me, Pippin,” Merry said, trying to get his point across. “Some hobbits aren’t the sort that you should trust completely. You have to be careful and try to look out for yourself.”

Pippin nodded and then smiled. “But if I mess up, then you’ll look after me, won’t you, Merry?”

“I will, Pip,” Merry said, smiling back. “Now, lets get poor Fredegar out of this heat and go inside and find ourselves a snack. We have a fishing trip to plan.” He reached down and took Pippin’s hand and the three of them headed toward the Hall together.

Ages ago, I wrote a story called "Downpour" in which a thirty-year-old Pippin is entertaining some young children by playing blind hobbit's bluff with them even though he doesn't enjoy the game. This incident may be why he isn't too fond of it. - thanks for reading!

Not too long ago, I wrote a story in which Legolas tried smoking. The story is called “A Brief History of Smoking” and it was one of my “12 Days Challenge stories” written for the “Eleven Pipers Piping” verse. In that story there is a small mention of the first time that Pippin smoked a pipe. This is the full story of that event. You don’t have to read, “A Brief History of Smoking” in order to read this one, but for those of you who wondered about Pippin’s advice to Legolas, this is the explanation behind it. - G.W.

Legolas looked over at Pippin who was practically in his lap and asked, “Do you also have advice for me?”

“Please, Merry,” Pippin begged. “I’m old enough. I have been for ever so long and it’s hardly fair that no one will allow me to.”

Merry frowned and continued to puff on his pipe, ignoring Pippin he looked over at me and said, “Do you suppose that there is anywhere in all of the Shire where I can get a bit of peace and quiet and enjoy a relaxing smoke?”

I smiled at him and watched as Pippin sank into the chair nearest the fireplace and sighed deeply. “Fine. I shall be the only hobbit in the entire Shire that doesn’t smoke. I nearly am as it is.”

“My mum doesn’t smoke and she’s a hobbit,” Merry responded, puffing on his own pipe.

“Sod it all, Merry, you know perfectly well what I mean,” Pippin growled and sank lower in his chair, folding his arms over his chest.

I lit my own pipe and waited. I was very sure that more was coming. With these two, more was always coming.

“I’m twenty-two years old and I have never been allowed to smoke a pipe,” Pippin muttered. “It’s disgraceful is what it is.”

“I’m not your father, you know,” Merry sighed. “I’m not the one that you need permission from in order to smoke.”

“Don’t think of involving me in this discussion. Pretend that I’m not here,” I suggested.

“That’s typical,” Pippin said, trying to bait me. “You never will involve yourself in anything important.”

“Maybe Frodo doesn’t think that this is important,” Merry said, blowing a smoke ring and watching it float in Pippin’s direction.

Merry was doing a bit of baiting himself at the moment and Pippin was slowly losing his temper. I was about to be in the middle of another of their squabbles.

“Not important?” Pippin shot back, sitting up and glaring at Merry. “So it isn’t important if I don’t know how to smoke a pipe properly! It isn’t important that everyone teases me and makes sport at my expense because neither of my worthless older cousins will teach me to smoke! Fine!”

I tried not to smile. Pippin kept saying ‘fine’ in the same tone of voice that one might utter the most unacceptable profanity and it was mightily amusing. I tried to look elsewhere as Merry sighed heavily and said, “No one taught me how to smoke. In fact, no one gave me permission to smoke either come to think on it.”

I cleared my throat a bit as a reminder to Merry that I was still in the room. I, after all, knew that he wasn’t exactly being truthful at the moment. I was the one who had allowed him to smoke for the first time and whether or not he is willing to admit it, there was some instruction required. He looked at me and winked, in an effort to get me to allow him to continue tormenting Pippin without interruption, while across the room, Pippin began to pace.

“Fine! You began smoking on your own and you knew exactly how it was done right from the beginning! I always knew you were an utter genius,” Pippin snorted sarcastically. He threw Merry, what I am sure he suspected to be a fierce glare, but which came off as more of an insulted pout. I struggled to stay out of the matter and not to laugh by biting down on the end of my own pipe.

“Why don’t you find someplace to land?” Merry sighed, waving a hand at Pippin. “You are more annoying than a swarm of bees, buzzing around the room the way that you are.”

Pippin stopped directly in front of Merry’s chair and folded his arms over his chest for the millionth time. “And you are a terrible older cousin! If you had any sense about you, you’d teach me to smoke for your own sake.”

Now Merry was having trouble maintaining that bored, ‘I don’t care’ look that he had assumed and which he usually carried off so very well. I could tell that he was trying not to laugh now also, but Pippin didn’t notice and continued with his tirade. “You sit there all smug if you like, but everyone knows that it is your responsibility to teach me to smoke! Folks know that you aren’t tending to your responsibilities! If you want folks to say unkind things about the way you conduct yourself then it is fine with me!”

There was that word again, ‘fine’ and I bit my lower lip hard enough to draw blood and looked at my lap. Pippin’s anger always amused me in some way that I couldn’t explain fully.

“Teach you to smoke for my sake?” Merry sputtered. “Now, that is the most unusual way of persuading me that you have tried yet.”

“Did it work at all?” Pippin asked, turning hopeful eyes on Merry and causing both of us to break into laughter.

“Fine! Laugh all you like,” Pippin said in an injured tone, turning his back on us while we struggled to control ourselves.

Merry was practically falling out of his chair. “You are hopeless, Pippin,” he managed between whoops of laughter. “Utterly hopeless!”

I snickered and looked over at Merry and said, “Did it work at all?” and then both of us went on another laughing spree while Pippin seethed. I knew that we shouldn’t tease him so but I simply couldn’t make myself behave today.

“I hope you both choke!” Pippin said, and left the room. Merry and I continued to laugh for several more minutes until my stomach hurt.

“You are a dreadful cousin, you know,” I said, when I had regained my breath.

“I know,” Merry said, looking quite proud of himself. “I learned the art from you.”

“No, not you,” Merry said, looking down his rather prominent nose at me. “No, you would have never treated me like that.”

I snickered in spite of my resolve not to do so and shrugged. “I might have done something like that a time or two. I don’t really recall.”

“Yes, well, you are quite old and forgetful,” Merry said, grinning. He stood and removed a small package from his trouser pocket. “ How long do you suppose it will be before Pippin returns?”

“I know him,” Merry grinned. “He’ll have to have a last word or three. He’ll be back directly.”

“Yes, but he’s a Took,” Merry reminded me. “One last word isn’t enough for the likes of them.”

I grinned. “What’s that you have there?” I asked, indicating the package, though I suspected that I knew what it was.

“I just want you both to know that I am through taking this sort of treatment from both of you!” It was Pippin and he was back with a vengeance. He stormed into the room and began to rant at us. I watched as Merry sat down in his chair again and yawned. “I don’t have to put up with it and I am not going to! It is perfectly fine by me if the two of you never get spoken to by me ever again!”

In his anger, Pippin had lapsed into a bit of Pippish, a word Merry and I use to describe Pippin’s unusual speech patterns, and it was not making it any easier for me to hold my laughter in check. Merry was doing better. He yawned again, which only made Pippin angrier.

“You do this sort of thing to amuse yourselves at my expense and it isn’t funny at all!” Pippin continued. “I don’t know why I’ve put up with it this long and I am not putting up with it any longer! I hope you are very happy without me because that is what you are going to be!” He turned to storm off and Merry cleared his throat. Pippin stopped and turned. He glared at Merry, daring him to say anything and waited.

“So, I don’t suppose that you’d be at all interested in learning to smoke then, would you?” Merry asked. “I mean, you’d hardly want me to teach you since you plan to have nothing to do with me in the future.”

Pippin struggled to hold onto his anger. I watched him try to remain firm in his resolve to leave us on our own. He fisted his hands at his sides and gritted his teeth together while glaring at Merry. Merry smiled at him and said, “You are terrible at being angry.”

“Yes, you are,” Merry said, smiling wider. “You always make me laugh when you get angry.”

“Oh, fine,” Pippin said and I instantly sputtered, releasing a laugh. Why did he have to keep saying fine?

“See?” Merry said, pointing to me. “Frodo thinks you’re funny when you’re angry too. Don’t you Frodo?”

He sniffed, insulted and tapped his foot on the floor. “I am very happy that you both think I’m so funny!”

Merry stood again and removed the little package from his pocket. “Here. Call it a thank you gift for all of the amusement that you’ve given me over the last twenty-two years.” He extended the package toward Pippin who looked at it warily.

“I shouldn’t, you know,” Pippin said, still looking a bit injured by our teasing.

Merry shrugged and moved to return the item to his pocket, but Pippin was faster, taking hold of it quickly and beginning to tear off the wrapping while Merry chuckled. “A pipe!” Pippin crowed. He then looked crossly at Merry. “You had this all along?”

Pippin seemed to consider this for a minute and then he grinned at Merry. “Well, I suppose it’s all right then. You were just teasing me a bit.” Pippin looked down at the pipe in his hand and smiled, running a finger over the rim of the bowl.

“Just a bit,” Merry smiled. “Now, do you want me to show you how to smoke that or would you like to stand there and admire it all afternoon?”

“First, you have to learn how to properly fill it,” Merry said, taking on that older, wiser, cousin air of his while I watched from my chair.

“I know that bit,” Pippin supplied. “No one lets me smoke, but your father lets me fill his pipe for him and I’ve done Frodo’s before too.”

Merry looked at me as if I have violated some rule by this action. He seemed disappointed that Pippin was not completely clueless about pipes, but he recovered. “Well, that’s good then,” Merry said. He extends his own pouch in Pippin’s direction. “Fill it and then I’ll show you how to smoke it.”

Pippin accepted the pouch and carefully filled his new pipe while Merry looked on critically, watching for mistakes and seeing none. Pippin held up the pipe and said, “Now what?”

“Well, you have to light it, of course,” Merry said, taking the pipe from Pippin and pointing to the bowl of it. “You have to get the flame down in the bowl of the pipe just so and you puff on the pipe while you are lighting it. You puff gently so as not to put it out before it gets properly started, but you do puff a bit.”

Pippin nodded with interest, though I thought that Merry was being a bit too condescending at the moment. Merry was enjoying being the older cousin a bit too much just now and was too pompous for my taste, but Pippin didn’t seem to mind at all. All Pippin wanted was to smoke and he wasn’t interested in Merry attitude. Nothing mattered except the pipe. Merry handed the pipe back to Pippin who took it as if it might break and looked at it as if it were made of gold rather than wood. His eyes shone as he looked up at Merry expectantly.

“Since we’re here in the parlor and we have a lovely fire,” Merry said, making his way over to the fireplace. “We can use a bit of kindling to light you pipe.”

Pippin looked interested in this and I frowned. “Don’t you think this might go better if you simply let him use a flint?” I asked, trying to sound causal so that Merry would not become difficult, but apparently, I was not casual enough.

“Who is doing this?” Merry asked. When I didn’t reply, he turned back toward Pippin and said, “I’ll just get a piece of the kindling out of the box here and you can light your pipe directly from the fire.”

Pippin smiled as he and I watched Merry remove a long piece of kindling from the wood box. “This should do it,” Merry said, as he held aloft his selection. I was a trifle worried about this business, but I decided to say nothing. After all, Merry was the one who was teaching Pippin to smoke, not I. I had taught Merry and so I shouldn’t spoil this for Merry by butting in.

Merry handed the kindling to Pippin and said, “Now, stick the end of this into the fire and once it catches, you can use it to light your first pipe.”

Pippin grinned and took the kindling. Merry favored me with a quick glance just to make sure that I had no intention of interfering and then he watched as Pippin lit the kindling.

Now, I could see the trouble with this entire business, but everything seemed to be moving in slow motion and I seemed unable to do anything to stop it. The piece of kindling which Merry had selected for Pippin was a bit too long. It was going to be terribly awkward for Pippin to place the pipe in his mouth and then put the flame on the end of the kindling into the bowl of the pipe. Pippin’s arm was going to be way out to the side and he was going to have to aim the kindling at the pipe's bowl just so. I could hear Merry’s voice saying, “Now, while you’re lighting the pipe, remember to puff gently or you’ll blow it out before it gets going properly.”

“I will,” Pippin said, with the pipe between his teeth. The flame on the end of the kindling was going rather well and seemed a bit larger than it had a moment ago. The kindling was burning nicely as Pippin made an effort to aim for the pipe. I noticed that my youngest cousin’s eyes were crossing as he watched the flame while trying to maneuver it into his pipe. I watched as Pippin's excited green eyes moved closer together and his teeth tightened on the stem of the pipe. Merry was standing there looking over Pippin’s shoulder and leaning in close offering encouraging words, “That’s it, Pip.”

Suddenly, Pippin’s hand lost its way and bobbed upward sending the lit end of the kindling into Merry’s curls and I jumped from my seat and reached for my cup of tea, which was sitting on the table beside of my chair. Pippin was so intent on his pipe that he didn’t seem to notice that he had just set Merry’s hair on fire. Merry noticed it at once and let out with a yell just as I threw my blessedly cool cup of tea in his direction hitting both of my cousins.

“Frodo! What did you do that for?” Pippin objected, removing the pipe from his mouth and waving the still lit kindling about while I rushed forward to finish putting out the remaining blaze in Merry’s curls. “What is going on?” Pippin demanded as Merry continued to yell and I began to beat Merry on the head with a cushion that I had lifted off of the sofa. The tea had put out some of the flames but my aim had been less than perfect and I had doused Pippin also. With tea dripping off of the end of his sharp nose, Pippin turned around and somehow managed to set the hem of my waistcoat ablaze. Seeing what he had done, he dropped the kindling and grabbed one of Merry’s mum’s knitted blankets and wrapped it about me while the rug behind him began to burn where he had dropped the kindling.

“My hair!” Merry shrieked. The fire was out but he was inspecting his head with his fingers and not liking how it felt. Pippin was patting me down with the blanket and completely oblivious to the fire now raging behind him. Merry and I both saw the flames at the same instant and pulled Pippin toward us to keep him from catching fire also. The three of us fell to the floor in a tangled heap. I wound up in the blanket and laying on top of Merry with Pippin sprawled over both of us, still unaware that the rug behind him was on fire and that the fire was coming in our direction at an alarming rate. “Get off me!” Merry demanded from beneath the pile.

I tried to push Pippin to the side and away from the fire as he looked at me and said, “I think I dropped my pipe!”

‘That’s not all you dropped!” I shouted at him. “You’ve set the rug on fire!”

“Merry! This smial is likely to go up in flames!” I yelled, finally succeeding in shoving Pippin off of me and gaining my feet. Just as I stood I was hit full in the face with a great deal of water. I noticed that the fire was out and that the air was filled with smoke. As I sputtered, I heard Merry’s father say, “ What are you three idiots doing in here?”

Pippin, also dripping wet and sitting on the floor looked up at him and said, “I think I’ve lost my new pipe.”

“You are also going to lose a great deal of blood in a few minutes!” Merry shouted. “You set my hair on fire!” He was struggling to reach Pippin who was scooting backward on the wet floor as Merry crawled toward him. I stood there dripping and looked at Merry’s father who was standing on the other side of what had been a very nice rug, holding an empty bucket. “Hold still so that I can kill you!” Merry shouted at Pippin.

“It was entirely your fault, Merry!” Pippin objected, scooting back a bit more and running into the wall. “This was your idea!”

‘My idea!” Merry shouted, his voice trembling with rage. “It was my idea to try and burn the smial down?”

Saradoc Brandybuck and I watched as the two of them began to wrestle on the floor amid the water and the smoke and the remains of the rug. I think both of us were in shock at that point, but Saradoc recovered as Merry pushed Pippin face down onto the floor and twisted his arm behind his back. “My pipe!” Pippin crowed, spotting it lying, unharmed and just out of his reach. He took his free arm, which he had been using to swat Merry with, and reached for the pipe while Merry continued to twist Pippin’s other arm. Saradoc gave a very loud whistle and both of them froze in place.

“Get up, both of you! This instant!” Saradoc shouted and Merry and Pippin quickly scrambled to their feet, Pippin still looking longingly at his new pipe.

Saradoc ignored me for the moment, which suited me quite well. It gave me a moment in which to see how close I had come to going up like a tinderbox. I ran my hand over what remained of my waistcoat and shirt on the right side and was relieved to see that my skin was only slightly pink. Beside of me, Saradoc surveyed the damage to Merry’s hair. “That was close, wasn’t it?” he observed as Merry made a noise which sounded a bit like a door hinge squeaking.

Pippin finally took his eyes off of his pipe and looked up at Merry. He rose up on his toes so that he could see Merry’s hair better and wrinkled his nose. “Smells dreadful,” he offered and Merry reached for his younger cousin’s throat with both hands. I watched as Saradoc pulled them apart and gave them each a shake.

“That’s enough out of both of you!” he said firmly. He was a very large hobbit and he was bigger than both of them. “Now, I want to know exactly what was going on here and I want no more nonsense, so Frodo, why don’t you explain all of this to me.”

As I gulped, wishing that I weren’t the oldest and dreading having to explain all of this, I heard Pippin ask him pleasantly, “May I get my pipe while he does that?”

In this one Pippin is 13, Merry is 21 and Frodo is 35. This is a bit of Easter foolishness. This one takes place in the kitchen of Bag End. Hope you all enjoy it.

“Are you sure those are proper eggs, Merry? I mean, if they are brown on the outside, then might they be bad inside?” Pippin still looked skeptical about Merry’s choice of breakfast food.

“Pippin, these are duck eggs,” Merry explained, trying to remain patient. “Duck eggs are brown, but it doesn’t mean that they’ve gone over or anything of the sort. They are perfectly fresh and they will be delicious.”

“Ducks do lay eggs, you know,” Merry said, in exasperation. “In fact, I found these eggs only this morning and so they are not only fresh, but they are extremely fresh. Now, I say we quit discussing this and make breakfast.” He raised one of the large, brown eggs over the rim of a bowl and prepared to crack it, but Pippin stayed his hand.

“You got these eggs from some strange duck that you don’t even know?” Pippin asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Look, what do you expect, that I went up to the duck and introduced myself first?” Merry sighed. “Pardon me, you don’t know me, but my name is Meriadoc Brandybuck and I wonder if you might be inclined to lend me a few of these, delicious-looking brown duck eggs of yours?” He rolled his eyes at Pippin and waved the egg in his younger cousin’s face. “This is an egg, Pippin and it is perfectly fine. There is nothing the matter with it. We eat duck eggs in Buckland all of the time. Don’t they have ducks in the Tooklands?”

“We have ducks,” Pippin said, backing up from the egg a bit. “We eat ducks. But I have never eaten duck eggs before.”

“How do you know?” Merry demanded. “You may have been served them for breakfast every morning of your childhood! Because once I crack this egg open and put it into this bowl, it will look exactly like any chicken egg. Once it’s cooked, it will taste like a chicken egg. There is no difference!”

“Tis larger, Merry,” Pippin said, picking up a second egg and studying it intently. “Tis larger and it’s brown. I think it may be shaped a wee bit differently as well. It seems longer to me.” His eyes were nearly crossed as he held the egg inches from his nose.

“Larger is a very good thing, Pippin,” Merry advised. “That means we will have more delicious egg to go around. More egg for you and more egg for me.”

“Can you eat robin’s eggs?” Pippin asked, looking at Merry and lowering the egg back to the bowl.

“I just wondered,” Pippin said. “I mean those are blue. If you can eat the brown ones, then why can’t you eat the blue ones?”

“Well, then, that’s the difference,” Merry said, smiling. “You can’t eat robin eggs because you don’t eat robins. We eat chickens and so we eat their eggs. We eat ducks and so we eat their eggs. We don’t eat robins and so we do not eat their eggs.”

“I suppose it would be a great deal of trouble for almost nothing at all,” Pippin said. “I mean, robin eggs are so very small. It would take a great many just to make one small serving of eggs, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes,” Merry said, his frustration growing. “Now, these are perfectly acceptable eggs and I am starving. Why don’t you let me fix these and then you will see how very good they are.”

“I suppose so, only I am still a bit bothered by the color,” Pippin frowned. “I don’t know that it’s safe to eat colored eggs.”

“You aren’t going to be eating the shells!” Merry said. “I crack them open and you will be eating what comes out of the shell. We will not be eating egg shells.”

“All the same, as careful as you are, sometimes a wee bit of shell gets in with the eggs and you’ve eaten it before you realize it,” Pippin said. “When I made eggs yesterday, chicken eggs, I lost a bit of shell in the bowl and so one of us did eat some of the shell yesterday, Merry. I just don’t think it can be a good thing to eat colored egg shells.”

“Pippin, the color of the shell means nothing!” Merry said. “These eggs will not harm you. In fact, I will break one open now so that you can see.” He smacked the egg on the side of the bowl a bit too hard and egg and shell went everywhere. It was all over the table, partly in the bowl, and some of it was actually on Pippin’s shirt. “See, it’s just an egg!” Merry said, wiping some of it off of the end of his own nose. “Just an ordinary egg!”

Pippin looked down at the egg drying on his shirt and then back up at Merry. “It certainly looks the same as a chicken egg, but you didn’t have to get it all over me to prove your point.”

Merry sighed and sank into a chair on his side of the table. “I surrender. We’ll have toast and ham, but no eggs.”

“Do you suppose that there are other colors of eggs, Merry?” Pippin asked, picking up a piece of the brown shell and studying it. “I mean, do you suppose that there is any sort of bird that might lay green eggs or yellow eggs? That would be funny if the eggs were yellow inside and outside, wouldn’t it? Or if the green eggs turned another color once they were ripe, like some apples do. Red eggs! Merry, do you think that there are any red eggs?”

Merry let his forehead rest against the sticky surface of the table. “Pippin, eggs do not come in every color.”

“Wouldn’t it be pretty if they did?” Pippin asked, smiling. “Imagine that you go out to the barn to get the eggs and you come back with a basket full of eggs and all of them are different colors! It’d be like a rainbow in a basket, Merry!” Pippin waited for Merry to reply to this and when he didn’t, Pippin took one of the duck eggs and broke it gently against the bowl.

“Pippin, what are you two doing in here?” Frodo asked. “I thought that you might be making breakfast.” He stood over the table and looked at the mess and then glanced at Merry who had not moved but seemed to be mumbling something about colored eggs. “You seem to have got a bit of egg on the table, lad. You have to be careful.”

“Oh, Merry did that,” Pippin smiled. “I don’t think he meant to, but he just hit the egg a wee bit too hard on the bowl. I’m doing it the way Pearl showed me and it works quite well.” Pippin took a second egg and demonstrated.

“That’s very good, Pippin,” Frodo said. He then looked over at Merry and frowned. “Merry, are you feeling well?”

“I’m fine,” Merry said, standing up. “In fact, I am going outside while you two finish making breakfast and look for colored eggs. I am going to hunt all over the place until I find one of every color. I am going on an egg hunt!” Having said this, Merry left the kitchen.

Pippin shrugged and broke another egg on the edge of the bowl. “If he finds any colored eggs, then maybe we should let him be the one to eat them. They might be pretty, but I still do think that eggs should be white.” He began to beat the eggs in the bowl and Frodo decided that he would be better off if he didn’t know anything more about all of this.

This one also has Frodo in it, but I still thought it would work well here. It takes place in the Crickhollow house a while after the quest. Hope you enjoy it. - G.W.

Pippin and Frodo stared in stunned silence at the vast array of waistcoats. There were solid colors, plaids, stripes, several with braiding or edging as trim, long ones without buttons, short ones with buttons, a few with tiny flowers on them, some with gold stitching, and some with ponies on them. They were all folded neatly and arranged by color.

"Well?" Merry asked again and turned to frown at his dumb-struck cousins. "I need to know which one you think that I should wear. This is very important to me. It isn't every day that I ask a lass to marry me. I want to look my best."

"Which one is your favorite?" Frodo asked, as Pippin moved around Merry and began poking around in the wardrobe. "Don't ruin the organization, Pip," Merry said and then turned to Frodo. "I don't suppose that I have a favorite. I like some of them better than others but I couldn't select a favorite."

Merry scratched his head and gave this question some thought. "If she does she's never said." He could hear Pippin moving about behind him and he turned and grabbed his younger cousin by the collar, pulling him back from the collection of finery. "I know where all of those are and I don't want you mixing them up."

"Yes, I do," Merry said, frowning at him. "I don't leave my clothing scattered about the floor in small piles like someone I could name. I don't select my clothing by picking it up off of the floor and checking for stains or rummaging about in the bottom of my drawers for something that fits. I have my things organized. I don't go about smelling my things to see if I have worn them recently."

Pippin smirked. "Merry, you are becoming a fussy old hobbit. Estella had better say yes or you are likely to wind up spending the rest of your days folding and stacking waistcoats. They are all much the same, just different colors."

"Fine, if you don't have an opinion, then Frodo can help me decide," Merry said, sternly. "You don't have any idea about what proper hobbits should wear anyway. I just asked you to include you. It's Frodo's opinion that I really want." Merry looked at Frodo and ignored Pippin's attempt to look insulted. "Well, Frodo, what do you think?"

Frodo looked into the wardrobe and wondered if it were possible to become dizzy from looking at so many brightly colored items so closely. It seemed that his head was spinning. "The red one," he said in desperation and Pippin snorted.

"Which of the red ones? There are several," Merry said, gesturing behind him to a stack of red waistcoats in various shades.

Merry turned and took the red waistcoat from the top of the neat pile and held it up. "This one?"

"Well, I did think so, but now that you have it out, it seems a bit too decorated with all of that gold trim," Frodo admitted. He couldn't let Merry ask Estella to be his bride in that one. It was quite dreadful.

"I rather like the trim," Merry said, examining the waistcoat closer and smiling.

"Most of them look far better in the wardrobe than they do on Merry," Pippin said, grinning. "That one looks a bit like Yule tinsel."

"Ignore him, Frodo," Merry said in a slightly threatening tone. "All you have to do is look at what he's wearing to know that he has no sense of style." Merry looked Pippin up and down critically and wrinkled his nose as it he were smelling something foul.

Pippin looked down at his rather ratty brown trousers and slightly wrinkled shirt which was hanging out over his trousers on one side and tucked in on the other. His braces were missing at the moment and he suspected that he'd forgotten to put them on this morning. "I don't have to dress up to stand in your room and watch you make an idiot of yourself. I consider that an every day occurrence and these are my every day clothes," Pippin said, smiling.

Merry stepped toward Pippin and then stopped. "I will not let you upset me. This is a very important day. I am asking Estella Bolger to marry me or don't you remember?" He looked daggers at Pippin for a brief second and then turned to Frodo. "So not this red one, then?"

"Which one?" Merry asked and returned the red one to its place in the red stack. He moved over to the blue ones and waited for Frodo's decision.

"You are both hopeless," Pippin groaned and then proceeded to walk over to the wardrobe and select a light grey waistcoat with a hint of red trim near the top and silver buttons lining its front.

Merry started to object, but Frodo put his hand on Merry's arm and said, "Wait, let's hear this."

"You have on black trousers so as to look formal and your best linen shirt with the pearl buttons. I am assuming that you are planning to wear your long black coat and so this waistcoat is the one," Pippin said, holding it up in front of Merry. "It has the light grey with ever such a slight trace of black running through it in tiny lines and a touch of red trim to keep you from looking like a mourner at a burial. It also brings out the color in your eyes."

Frodo grinned as Pippin forced the garment into Merry’s hands. "How did you do that?" Frodo asked, both puzzled and amused.

"You two keep forgetting that I was raised in a house full of lasses," Pippin said. "What do you suppose lasses talk about every minute of every day if not frocks and colors and their hair and what color will make a hobbit's eyes look best?" He folded his arms over his chest and rocked on his heels. "I dress like this because it is comfortable, not because I don't know any better. Now, put on the waistcoat, straighten your hair, don your black coat and go give Miss Estella Bolger a chance that most hobbit lasses in this Shire would love to have; the chance to marry the only male hobbit in all of Middle Earth who folds his clothing." With that, Pippin left his older cousins standing in stunned silence.

Just as Merry and Frodo began to recover their wits, Pippin's voice rang out from the next room, "She'll say yes if she has any taste at all. Not only will you be the best dressed hobbit in the Shire, but you are also the second best looking."

This is a bit of harmless fun on a rainy day in an old corner of Brandy Hall with Fredegar, age 25, Merry, age 23, and Pippin, age 15. Sometimes, when you're bored, you do the strangest things for amusement.

Pippin frowned. It seemed odd to be told that he was too large for anything. "Well, I would have to squeeze into it, but I still think I could do it."

Merry looked over from his seat on the old brown sofa and studied the box while the rain continued to fall outside. "It looks like it might be an awfully tight fit," he said.

Pippin leaned over the box and peered inside as if measuring it in some way. "Maybe and of course, you'd have to put the lid on if I got completely into this thing," Pippin said, thinking out loud.

"I should take my braces off and empty my pockets," Pippin said. He walked over to the table in the center of the room and began to pull things from his trouser pockets and lay them on the table.

Fredegar, who had said nothing up until now, watched in fascination, as Pippin's small treasures were unloaded and place carefully on the old, battered table. The room that they were lounging about in was an old storage area and so nothing was in good repair. The table had one leg that was shorter than the other three and it rocked as Pippin removed three shire pennies, a very large key, five smooth, flat stones, two pieces of peppermint candy, an apple, a pocket knife, a bright red yoyo, and an oddly shaped green rock from various pockets and placed them on the table. "There, that's all of it," Pippin declared.

"What about that other key that you usually have and where is your whistle?" Merry asked. He was extremely familiar with Pippin's oddments.

"What do you do with all of that junk?" Fredegar asked, inspecting the items curiously. "Does this key go to anything?"

"I 'm sure that it does," Pippin said. "Why would there be a key if there weren't anything for it to open?"

Pippin slipped off his braces and dropped them on the table next to the other items and said, "I'm going to try."

"What if you get stuck or something?" Fredegar frowned, as Pippin approached the box.

"Then you and Merry will have to get me out of course," Pippin said, in a reasonable tone.

"Why?" Merry asked. "It isn't as if you will be trying to get into the box and there's been no wager of any kind so you can't lose anything if he manages it. Finally, neither one of us is forcing him to do it and so we can't get into trouble if it goes ill."

"I hate it when it rains," Freddy sighed. "One of you always does something of this sort when it rains and then there's some sort of trouble."

"We get bored," Merry said, yawning. "Get on with it, Pip, if you plan to do it. I'm starting to get hungry."

"No, because then I might be too full to fold up enough to get into this box," Pippin said. "I can't have any extra weight or it won't be possible."

"You haven't any extra weight and so you should have no trouble at all with this," Merry said, grinning at his skinny, fifteen-year-old cousin.

Pippin grinned back and stepped into the box and began to bend his knees and fold himself over into the cramped space while Merry leaned forward in his chair holding his watch in his hands.

"I'm timing him," Merry said. "If he can do it and we find out how quickly he can do it, then we can make some extra coins betting."

"Good idea," Pippin said in a muffled voice while trying to lower his head in between his knees and scrunch down into the box.

"You sound like a fussy old gammer, Freddy," Merry sighed. "Where is your spirit of adventure? Where is your willingness to take a risk? You’re getting old before your time, cousin. Have a bit of faith."

"I think you've got it!" Merry crowed. He looked at his watch. "And in only two minutes and ten seconds!"

"Let's see," Merry said. He picked up the lid for the box and proceeded to pop it into place. He stood and grinned at Freddy. "See?"

"Well, I never imagined that he could do that," Fredegar admitted. "He seemed a bit too large for it."

"I told you to have faith, didn't I?" Merry said. "Didn't I tell you not to worry?"

"Well, yes you did," Fredegar said. "It just seemed a bit risky to me. I guess you were right."

The box rocked slightly and Pippin's voice came from inside very muffled. "Take the lid off, Merry. It's hot in here."

Merry laughed. "Sorry, Pip," he said and removed the box cover. "There now. Get out of that box and let's get something to eat."

"I think Freddy was right about something," Pippin said in a rather nervous voice.

"You can't be," Merry said, leaning over the box and taking hold of Pippin's shoulders and trying to pull him out.

"I'm trying!" Merry said, even more panicked. "Don't just stand there, Freddy, help me pull him out. Hold the box or something!"

Freddy began to laugh as Merry stared at him wildly. "This isn't funny! We have to get him out of there," Merry said, growing irritated.

But Merry had has back to the box and was yelling at Freddy. "How can you stand there and laugh when Pippin is trapped in that box?"

"What do you mean, 'is he'?" Merry demanded. "Look for yourself!" Merry turned and pointed to the now empty box. Startled, he looked back at Freddy and then at the box and then he turned and saw Pippin standing next to the open door grinning.

"I am going to catch you and stuff you back in there and nail that lid shut!" Merry yelled, running after Pippin and leaving a very amused Fredegar behind.

Frodo was nearly knocked down by Merry as he entered the room. "What is going on now?" Frodo asked, looking over at Fredegar.

"He bet me that he could fool Merry into believing that he was stuck in that box," Freddy said. "I didn't think that Merry would fall for it, but he did. Now I owe Pippin three shire pennies if Merry doesn't kill him."

This story mentions the one before it, "Inside Out", but you don't have to read it to read this one. Merry is 23 and Pippin is 15.

It was summer and Brandy Hall was filled with mischief. This year the Hall was teeming with youngsters for some reason and most of them were lads. The tweens out-numbered the other age groups by a fair amount and had made their presence known in all sorts of exasperating ways.

The Master of the Hall’s own son was among their number and was always in the thick of the mischief, in fact, he was usually the ring leader. Though not the oldest of them, Meriadoc Brandybuck was a natural born leader and so he often took charge of events. The others were more than willing to follow him and as Peregrin Took was always fond of saying, “Merry has the best ideas!”

Of late practical jokes and pranks were the order of business with the lads and no one was safe. They devised elaborate schemes and plotted endlessly against each other. All of them tried to out-do the others with their efforts. Vengeance was swift and often embarrassing or messy or both.

Berilac Brandybuck had fallen asleep early one evening and had found himself stretched out on the main table in the dinning hall the next morning when the staff came in to prepare for first breakfast. He had retaliated against Merry Brandybuck by putting dirt mixed generously with fertilizer between Merry’s bed sheets. Merry had then got back at him by locking him in the lasses bathroom so that when several of them came later that evening in nothing but their dressing gowns, they found Berilac already inside and trying desperately to escape notice. The screaming had been heard all over the Hall.

Fredegar Bolger was subtle and had helped with sly pranks that usually involved wagering. The wagers were nearly always fixed in advance so that things would turn to Fredegar’s advantage and the hapless loser was forced to get even as best as he could. Peregrin Took had recently bested Fredegar at his own game.

Peregrin, or Pippin as everyone called the lad, had wagered on something that he knew more about than most and that subject was Merry. Pippin had bet Fredegar that he could convince Merry that he had become stuck inside of a wooden box. Merry had fallen for the trick and Fredegar had lost three pennies to the lad. In the bargain Merry had been fooled and thus felt the need to retaliate.

Pippin was not yet a tween himself. At fifteen, he was the youngest of the group of lads at the Hall that summer but he was determined to keep up with them and to be included. Naturally, he had participated in the pranks against others, but up until this time, he had merely been willing to assist the actual planner of the prank. Pippin had not been the instigator nor had he been the victim.

He was extremely proud of his first prank. It had been successful. He had beaten Fredegar at his own game and won. Further, the older lads were all mightily impressed that Pippin had managed to dupe Merry. Merry was difficult to trick because his mind naturally went to pranks and he had pulled a great many on his own. He knew what to look for and when to be suspicious. Pippin’s trick had earned him quite a bit of praise from the older lads and had done much to make him fit in with his older cousins.

Merry, on the other hand, was less than pleased. Merry had taken quite a bit of ribbing thanks to Pippin’s little prank. The others made much of the fact that Merry had been fooled by a teen. Merry had been out-witted by a fifteen-year-old! Fredegar’s part in it all had been quietly overlooked. Everyone there had pranked Fredegar at one point or another, but it was rare that anyone managed to get something over on Merry. Berilac had been the most successful up to this point and that was far less embarrassing because Berilac was a bit older than Merry. Pippin was a child!

So it really should have come as no surprise to anyone that Merry decided to get even with Pippin.

Berilac stuffed his fist into his mouth to keep from laughing and the sight of that almost made Merry laugh. Merry quickly averted his eyes and looked up at the dark, night sky as if seeking help with his plan.

Berilac moved away from the sleeping form that lay at Merry’s feet when his efforts to stop his fit of giggles failed. He managed to move several yards away in quick, staggering strides and then sank to the grass in a fit of muffled laughter.

Merry was soon beside of him pulling Berilac to his feet and dragging him toward one of the many entrances to the Hall. Both lads were weaving back and forth like a couple of drunkards, though neither had touched a drop. They were overcome by laughter once inside the door and sat on the cool floor laughing until they could manage to make their way back to Merry’s room.

“Do you really think we should be forced to have first breakfast at this dreadful hour?” Pervinca Took sighed as she followed Estella Bolger out of the kitchen and onto the small flagstone terrace.

“It is a lovely morning, Pervinca,” Estella smiled. “Don’t be so set in your ways. I thought you were raised on a farm.”

“I was, “ Pervinca yawned. “That is why, when I am visiting, I like to sleep late. It’s the only chance that I get to do so.”

“Well, you can always take a nap after our fittings in town,” Estella said. “I believe that someone has everything set up out here because I smell something wonderful!”

“Smells like molasses, doesn’t it?” Pervinca smiled, waking up a bit more. “Maybe Aunt Esmeralda has made those wonderful molasses tea cakes, or maybe it is just for putting on toast.”

“Did either of you fix something with molasses in it?” Esmeralda asked, joining the two younger females on the terrace.

“Maybe what was me?” Melilot asked, coming out of the door behind them along with Hilda Bracegirdle and several other lasses.

“Maybe it was you that make something with molasses,” Pervinca said. “Don’t you smell it?”

“I do now that you mention it,” Melilot said. “Smells quite wonderful but I didn’t make it.”

Pimpernel Took came out of the kitchen at that moment carrying a large tray of honey buns. “I thought we could use something sweet,” she said, holding the tray out for all to see.

“Those look wonderful, dearest,” Esmeralda said. “Why don’t you put them over on the table and we’ll all get started. If we don’t finish our breakfast on schedule we shall be late for the dress makers.”

The entire group of lasses trooped over to the long table that Merry and Freddy had been forced to move out onto the terrace yesterday evening in preparation for this morning. Estella smiled as she remembered how the two lads had hated trying to please Merry’s mum with the location of the table.

Esmeralda had kept having them shift the heavy thing back and forth until she deemed it perfectly located. Freddy had groaned and muttered almost as much as Merry, but Esmeralda had ignored them both and continued until she had things placed just so. This ‘lass’s day out’ had been her idea and she’d been determined to make things perfect.

The table was well stocked with delicious breakfast items and beautiful flowers. Things simply could not have been lovelier. The ten chairs were arranged about the table and the linen tablecloth moved ever so slightly in the gentle morning breeze.

As they seated themselves, Pimpernel, whom all of the lasses just called Nell, sat her tray of honey buns on the table and began to take her seat, when suddenly, something rather odd caught her attention and she seemed to freeze half way to her chair.

“Nell, sit down so we can begin,” Pervinca frowned, reaching up and tugging on her older sister’s sleeve.

“What’s that?” Nell asked, pointing off toward her Aunt Esmeralda’s flower garden. The little garden started at the edge of the flagstone terrace. The summer flowers were in full bloom and the roses were particularly lovely this year. Some of the plants had grown quite tall.

Pervinca and Estella rose up and glanced over toward the garden where Nell was pointing. “What are you looking at, Nelly?” Estella asked, squinting as the morning sun was catching her in the eyes and making it hard for her to have a proper look.

From the far end of the table, Esmeralda turned toward the garden and her eyes widened.

“What in the name of all the shire is that?” she blurted, now standing also.

Everyone at the table followed her gaze and soon there were gasps and giggles from nearly every chair at the table. Shy little Pansy Brandybuck quickly hid her face in her hands while blushing crimson, but everyone else was wide-eyed with either curiosity or amusement.

Pippin’s nose itched as he sat up. He wasn’t sure exactly why, but something was tickling the end of it. Yawning, he reached up with one hand and scratched. He frowned as he pulled his hand back and squinted down at his fingers with sleepy eyes. There was something sticky on his hand. He hoped that he hadn’t spilt something on his bedcovers. He didn’t remember eating anything in the bed, but he supposed that he might have. It had been very late when he’d finally gone to bed at all.

He rubbed his eyes with the other hand and suddenly realized that his eyelids seemed to be sticking together now also. What did he have on his hands? With an effort that hurt a bit, he pulled his eyes open and looked down at both hands. He was so completely startled that he blinked which was a mistake. Now his eyes were pasted shut again by something gooey.

He took both hands and pried his lids open and looked down at himself and decided that he must still be asleep. His bedcovers seemed to have been replaced by flowers and some of the petals were sticking to his feet and legs. In fact there were flower petals on his arms also. What was going on? Confused, and smelling something that must be breakfast, Pippin sat up and sniffed. For some reason, he could smell molasses. Pancakes, maybe?

Pervinca began to snicker helplessly as she caught sight of her younger brother who was sitting in their aunt’s flower garden nearly covered in flower petals and twigs and grass and a great many other things that the wind must have blow onto him. He looked a bit like one of those old logs in the woods that have moss and fungi growing all over it, that is, if logs could move. At that moment, Pippin stood, looking puzzled and stretched.

Estella and Melilot howled with helpless laughter and several of the other lasses at the table began to snicker. “Morning, Pippin,” Pervinca called out.

Still not sure where he was, Pippin looked over at her in confusion. Was he outside? How had he come to be outside? He didn’t remember leaving his bed. Maybe he had walked in his sleep. Merry had done that several times and Pippin had found it quite alarming and terribly frightening. He looked at Pervinca and tried to put things in place.

Pippin looked down at himself and quickly ducked back down into the flower garden in panic. He was not only outside, but he was outside in not but his short clothes just a few feet from an entire table of lasses. Merry! Somewhere, Merry was having a good laugh over this one. He’d kill Merry for sure this time. He was already trying to think of ways to make Merry pay for this as he crawled on his knees through the flowers trying to figure a way to get into the smial without further embarrassment.

“You stay where you are, Peregrin Took!” Esmeralda said, firmly. “I’m getting your uncle and you had better not move from those flowers!”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Saradoc sighed deeply as if the weight of the Shire had come crashing down upon him. It seemed as if his entire job as the Master of Buckland this summer could be boiled down to being in charge of a group of rebellious tweens and one teenage Took. He had followed his lovely wife out into the garden with a blanket draped over his arm and a resigned expression on his face.

In front of him, Esmeralda ranted under her breath in furry. “One morning. Just one morning of peace and quiet and a nice breakfast. Maybe a trip to town to the dressmakers,” she hissed. “What must it be like to live like civilized folks? What is it to wake up and enjoy breakfast without finding someone lurking about half-clad in amid your flowers?”

Saradoc wisely said nothing at all. He knew that now was hardly the time to try and reason with his wife. Her Tookish accent was thick and her temper was at the boiling point. Saradoc felt a bit sorry for whoever was involved in this latest mischief. Someone would pay dearly. ___________________________________________________________________________________________________

The lasses were giggling madly and teasing Pippin for all they were worth. Pippin was hiding as best he could in behind the flowers. He cringed as Pervinca announced, “Come on out Pippin, at least two of us have already seen your short clothes. In fact, I’ve even mended them on occasion.”

“Aunt Esme told me to stay here,” Pippin growled. “And don’t be telling half the Shire about my short clothes!”

“I don’t see why she shouldn’t,” Estella laughed, wickedly. “After all, you’ve shown them to half the Shire.”

Pippin seethed. He couldn’t stand Estella Bolger most of the time. She was Pervinca’s friend and the two of them together always tormented him. Now was no exception. Here Merry had gone and left him outside in this state of near undress, which was bad enough, but now his older sister and Estella Bolger were making matters worse.

Pippin wished that they would all just go away, but that wasn’t likely to happen. They were enjoying his predicament far too much for that to happen. “Ouch!” he winced as something stung his right foot. He pulled his foot toward him and frowned, trying to see the bottom of it and just as he did so he felt something sting him on the back of his neck. He swatted at it and then realized that he was surrounded by a buzzing sound.

“Bees!” Pippin yelled, no longer caring who was watching. He jumped to his feet and began to swat at them, waving both arms about wildly in what looked like some sort of insane dance. He flailed his arms about and turned in a circle as the bees swarmed about him, drawn by the sweet, sticky molasses. “Help!” Pippin shouted.

The lasses had been laughing all the harder until, Nell suddenly caught sight of the bees. “Oh, evermore!” she yelled. “He’s being stung!”

“Do something!” Pervinca demanded. She was all for having a bit of fun at her younger brother's expense, but she didn’t want him hurt.

Esmeralda and Saradoc reached the terrace just as Pervinca aimed a large pitcher of water that she had taken from the table in what she thought to be Pippin’s direction but instead she managed to soak Esmeralda completely. Eyes wide with furor, Esmeralda stared at her niece. “What in blazes are you doing?” she demanded.

Before Pervinca could explain herself, Pippin caught their attention as he escaped the flower garden, still swatting at the bees and screamed in a rather high-pitched voice, “They’re eating me alive!”

Saradoc charged toward the lad with the blanket in his hands, looking as if he might be waving a flag of victory and knocked Pippin to the grass. Esmeralda, dripping with water and looking stunned, watched as the bees began to work on Saradoc who was trying to wrap the blanket protectively about Pippin while driving the bees away.

Thinking that they might draw some of the bees in another direction, Nell grabbed up her plate of honey buns and ran over toward her uncle and her brother. She tossed the buns onto the grass near them and was pleased when at least some of the bees took the bait. She was not pleased when two of them stung her for her trouble.

Estella, determined that water was the answer, charged over to the well and with Pervinca’s help, managed to raise up a full bucket of water. Not trusting Pervinca’s aim after that last effort, Estella took charge of the bucket herself and ran out toward Saradoc and Pippin and tossed the water on both of them.

Pansy, her eyes still covered, had been knocked to the ground and had pulled part of the tablecloth with her. This had resulted in half of the first breakfast, following her to the flagstones. “I’m not supposed to look at lads in their short clothes!” she screamed as a rather large bowl of porridge fell on top of her head and the warm porridge dripped down over her. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________

From their vantage point in a window in the smial, Merry, Fredegar, Berilac, and several of the other lads watched the scene on the lawn as it became more and more confusing. The amusement that they had all felt when Pippin had first been discovered was fast fading. “I never thought about the molasses attracting bees,” Merry moaned. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just wanted to teach him exactly who he was messing with.”

“Me?” Merry objected. “I seem to recall that you helped me put him out there, cousin.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It took several hours in a hot tub of water to remove all of the molasses from Pippin. It had been in his ears, in his hair, between his toes and even up his nose. It had taken three tubs of water because of all of the dirt, grass, and flower petals that had been sticking to the molasses. The first tub of water had to be dumped and clean water put in because the entire surface of the water had been coated with things that were sticking to the molasses.

Pippin, much to his embarrassment, had been forced to bathe in the barn. Esmeralda was firm in not allowing him into the smial with “half of the garden sticking to him!” Saradoc had grudgingly set to the task of cleaning up his young nephew and then cleaning up himself as well. By the time everything had settled down again, Pippin had not been the only one coated in molasses.

Pippin didn’t see why Pansy had been allowed back into the smial coated as she had been with porridge and other breakfast items. It didn’t seem fair, but Pansy had been led inside to a proper bath and not made to bathe out in the barn with half of the Brandybuck’s stable hands watching and chuckling as much as they dared. The Master was not in a particularly good humor this morning and so it was not advisable for them to become too jolly.

Esmeralda was livid. Needless to say the trip to the dressmakers and the lovely breakfast and her plan for a nice luncheon in town had all been spoiled. She was, instead, supervising the clean up of the terrace.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

There was a soft knock on the door to the bedroom and Pippin looked up at his uncle questioningly. Saradoc nodded and Pippin said, “Come in.”

Merry and Berilac walked into the bedroom looking rather sheepish and repentant. Saradoc glared at them and sighed. “You have ten minutes and then I want both of you in my study,” Saradoc said, sternly. “I have a bone to pick with the two of you.” He pointed down at several large, angry welts on his arm and then left.

Merry turned to look at Pippin. His younger cousin was covered in spots of white paste that the healer had put on Pippin’s numerous bee stings. Pippin looked back at him with his bright green eyes. One eyelid was slightly puffy from a sting and so that eye was only open slightly. Several stings dotted Pippin’s cheeks and one angry welt pushed Pippin’s curls out at an odd angle on his forehead. Both arms were coated with the white paste, as were both legs. Pippin sat on the bed in his nightshirt looking up at Merry who now felt like a complete monster.

“I didn’t tell on either of you,” Pippin broke in. “I don’t know how they found out, Merry, but I swear that I didn’t tell them. I didn’t know for sure who had done it. I did think it was you, naturally, but I didn’t know. I honestly didn’t tell any of it.”

This bit of information startled Merry. He was even more startled at how important Pippin thought that this was at the moment. He had expected Pippin to be angry, not defensive.

“I know you didn’t tell, Pip,” Merry reassured him, sitting down on the bed as Berilac moved over and sat in the chair.

Pippin sighed with relief and sank back onto his pillows. If it was one thing that being the youngest had taught him, it was that you never tattle. Tattling can get you excluded faster than anything and in spite of recent events, Pippin didn’t want to be excluded.

“Some,” Pippin admitted, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. “The ones on my, er, well, some of them make it hard to find a proper way to sit down.” He looked at his toes in embarrassment.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Merry said. “I never thought about the bees coming to the molasses or I’d have left that bit off.”

“It was still kind of funny from the window,” Berilac said and both Merry and Pippin glared at him. Berilac shrugged and said, “Well it was.”

“I don’t know yet, but it is going to be spectacular!” Pippin assured him. “When I’m better, you best not turn your back on me, either of you.” He included Merry in his glance and shifted his position on the bed again. “When these stings are gone, I’m getting even if it takes me the rest of the summer.”

Berilac swallowed. “You aren’t serious. If you get even then you know we’ll have to repay you.”

“I don’t care,” Pippin said. “I’ll not be outdone by a, a, a pair of Brandybucks!”

Berilac seemed flabbergasted, but Merry only smiled. After all, this was Peregrin Took and Merry was expecting nothing less. He would indeed be watching his back for the rest of the summer. Not only was Pippin determined, he was also motivated. It was a dreadful amount of bees stings and the pillow that Pippin was sitting on didn’t seem to be making it any easier for him to sit comfortable. He had no doubt that Pippin would not go away quietly.

“We had better go and see what my father is planning to do to us just now,” Merry said to Berilac. “I think we have a truce with Pippin here until he heals.”

Pippin nodded, the angry red welts coated in white standing out on his face. “Merry?’

Berilac was already out in the hall and Merry was standing holding the door open. “Yes, Pip?”

“Would you come back later if Uncle Doc will let you?” Pippin asked. “It’s a wee bit lonely being stuck in bed and I might be bored by then.”

Merry grinned at him. “Of course I will. I’ll bring the chess set and a snack if I’m allowed. Maybe you can take out your anger on me by beating me at chess.”

Pippin smiled, which hurt a bit and said, “You won’t be expecting me to let things be all settled if I win will you?”

“No,” Merry laughed. “But don’t expect me to let you win either just because you’ve wrestled with a few bees.”

“One thing,” Merry said. “You made quite a sensation with the lasses in your short clothes today.” Merry snickered and quickly closed the door just as Pippin hurled a pillow at it.

Pippin shifted miserably and turned on his side. He wondered if anyone had ever put goats in Merry’s bedroom before and he began to study on just how many goats might fit in there at one time as he drifted off to sleep.

“Being invisible,” Pippin said in a rather loud whisper, as he rolled over on his side to face Merry’s bedroll. Though he couldn’t actually see Merry, it was a comfort to look in his older cousin’s direction all the same.

“I don’t really know,” Merry said, after a slight pause. “I shouldn’t think that it would feel much different, though I haven’t given it much thought.” He was quiet for a few minutes and when Pippin didn’t say anything else, he continued. “I do know how it feels to see someone vanish before your eyes thanks to Bilbo, but I’ve never given much thought at all as to how it might have felt to Bilbo.”

“I don’t suppose that it could have hurt all that much or Bilbo wouldn’t have done it,” Pippin reflected with a sigh. “I mean, he planned it out for his birthday that time and let everyone see him do it. Well, they didn’t really see him, did they? That bit is rather confusing, isn’t it?” Pippin pondered this for a minute and then went on. “I mean one shouldn’t say that they saw him vanish, because once he had vanished, we couldn’t really see him at all, could we?”

Merry groaned. “Must you talk in Pippish in the small hours of the night? You know perfectly well that my head isn’t up to that sort of Tookish logic until after second breakfast.”

“You know what I mean, Merry,” Pippin hissed in exasperation. “If he isn’t there then, well, no, that’s wrong too because he was there still, we simply couldn’t see him could we?”

“Pippin,” Merry sighed, tiredly. “What brought this topic of discussion to your mind at this hour of the night?”

“I was thinking about things that I shouldn’t ask Frodo, but that I should very much like to ask him all the same,” Pippin said, sliding over in his bedroll so that he was closer to Merry. “Tis’ a sort of list that I am making.”

“You have a list?” Merry asked, turning to face Pippin now. He was fascinated by this notion and a bit afraid to know what sorts of things might be on the list. With Pippin, it was difficult to tell.

“I thought that would be safer,” Pippin said. “If I make a list, then I may not be as likely to come out with something improper that might upset him. I want him to be happy again, Merry and I do realize that I have a way of saying exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time. It isn’t as if I haven’t been told about this unfortunate tendency before. Now that I’m older and have traveled to strange places and met Kings and elves and such, I think that I should try to do a wee bit better with this problem if I can at all.”

Merry smiled in the darkness because he knew, even though he couldn’t see him, that Pippin’s face looked very earnest at the moment. “So, in order to keep from saying something unfortunate, you’ve begun a list,” Merry said, grinning to the point that it almost hurt his cheeks.

“Yes, and that one about what it might feel like to become invisible is at the top of the list,” Pippin said. “When we reach the Shire again, I want folks to realize that I have grown up a bit on our journey, but more importantly, I don’t want to make Frodo sad. He’s had enough sadness.”

“Yes, he has,” Merry agreed, quietly. “I suspect that returning home will lighten his heart. I do think that he will feel much better once he is back in his beloved Bag End.”

“I think so too,” Pippin said. “I should remember not to ask him about that either, though.”

“Well, when you are trying hard to feel more like yourself and get on with things, it is rather annoying to have folks asking you how you feel all of the time,” Pippin reflected. “I remember when I was first up after recovering from my time underneath that dead troll, it used to annoy me a great deal that everyone insisted on asking me how I was feeling. It made me think more closely about it all and reminded me of exactly what was aching at that moment.”

Merry chuckled softly. “I shall try to remember not to ask you how you are in the future.”

“I don’t know why you ever did ask me how I was feeling,” Pippin said, lying back down. “You always know how I am anyway.”

“I suppose I do, don’t I?” Merry agreed, turning over onto his stomach and laying his head on his folded arms. “Pippin?”

“Is it a terribly long list?” Merry asked. Their heads were close enough together now that he hardly had to utter this out loud.

“You know how I am,” Pippin sighed, the resignation clear in his voice. “It gets longer every time my mind wonders.”

“Oh,” Merry said. “Do you think you will still be able to talk to Frodo by the time we get back to the Shire?”

“I hope so,” Pippin said. “If I am very careful then I might be able to speak to him now and then without doing any harm.”

“Well, you can always talk to me,” Merry said, reaching over and patting Pippin’s shoulder.

“Yes, but more’s the pity that you’ve not ever been invisible because that one is preying on my mind,” Pippin said, seriously.

In the dark, laying several feet away and listening intently with the soft sound of Sam’s muffled snores for background noise, Frodo chuckled quietly to himself and tried to imagine what must be on that list of Pippin’s besides the question of invisibility and drifted into a peaceful slumber while trying to guess.

This one was written at the request of 'pathvain aelien' who wanted to know how Pippin got his stuffed rabbit, Errol. Errol appears in the story "Merry's Doorway" and in another story which I plan to post to "Brandybuck and Took" in a few days. Anyway, you don't have to read any of the others in order to read this one. This is ten-year-old Merry, nearly two-year-old Pippin and twenty-four-year-old Frodo in Buckland. Hope you enjoy it.

“What does he want?” Frodo frowned, bouncing the small child on his knee and watching as the little one kept looking back toward that other room and frowning. The child was making grunting noises and struggling to be let down.

“How should I know?” Merry sighed. “Maybe he knows that all of the food will be in there in a few minutes.”

Frodo laughed. “That is probably it, Merry-lad. Even though he’s a bit too young for some of it, I am sure that this little handful will be more than willing to eat his share of it once the meal is on the table.” Frodo looked down into the small face of his captive and smiled. “Are you hungry, Peregrin?”

The little one fidgeted and opened his mouth and said, “Bah, wah, gah!” Peregrin then stared intently at Frodo as if he expected a response to this gibberish. When Frodo only continued to smile, Peregrin struggled harder setting the tiny bells on his trousers to jingling and yelled out, “Roh! Roh!”

Ten-year-old Merry snickered. “Whatever he wants I don’t think that you are doing it because he doesn’t look happy.”

“Well, you’re no help in all of this,” Frodo said. “I haven’t been around this tiny one very much but I know that he has spent a great deal of time here at the Hall. Why is it that you don’t know what he wants?”

“Because, I don’t really care what he wants,” Merry sighed. “Why did you say you’d watch him anyway? We could be doing something if you hadn’t taken him.” Merry frowned at him while the baby continued to struggle and whimper.

“I offered because your mum was busy with the meal,” Frodo said. “And I haven’t spent much time with little Peregrin. I thought it might be nice to get acquainted.”

Frodo sighed and stood up with the baby in his arms and peered intently at the small angry face. “What do you want?” he asked, in desperation.

The child’s lower lip trembled and his small green eyes stared back at Frodo. “MY!” he blurted waving his tiny fist in the air and leaning away from Frodo.

“Maybe he needs changed,” Merry suggested, half-heartedly. “If he does, then I am not helping. I didn’t say that I would watch him. You did and so if he’s done that, then you will have to take care of it.” Merry folded his arms over his chest and looked up at his favorite cousin.

“It isn’t that,” Frodo said. “He doesn’t seem to have done anything of that nature.” He patted the child on the rump and smiled at him. “He wants something, though and I’ve no idea what it is.”

“Bugh! My!” Peregrin yelled out and smacked Frodo on the side of the face making Merry giggle.

“It isn’t funny,” Frodo objected. “It must be frustrating for the little child not to be able to make anyone understand what he wants.” Frodo said, taking the child’s hand in his to avoid another smack.

Peregrin leaned sideways in Frodo’s arms and looked at Merry and yelled, “Ro! MY!”

Merry glared at the child and said, firmly, “Behave! No one is getting you anything!”

Peregrin’s lower lip trembled and then he scrunched up his face and whined, “Meeeee!”

Walking past them with a mug of ale in one hand and a grin on his face, Bilbo said, “Walk him back and forth and bounce him a bit. Babies love that sort of nonsense.”

Before Frodo could suggest that Bilbo take the child since he knew what babies liked, Bilbo disappeared around the corner. With a long-suffering sigh, Frodo began to pace back and forth and bounce the child who jingled with each motion, in the hope that Bilbo was right. Merry fell in step beside of him and watched the baby to see what would happen. Meanwhile, the baby continued to struggle and twist making it very hard for Frodo to hang onto him. “He’s strong for a tiny baby isn’t he?” Frodo said, annoyed.

Merry smirked. “He’s spoilt. If he opens his mouth then someone does something for him. They’re all entirely too nice to him. You aren’t getting what he wants and so he’s acting up.”

“If I knew what he wanted then I would gladly get it,” Frodo said. “I am tired of wrestling with him.”

“Next time, instead of offering to take him, maybe you’ll do something with me,” Merry said, smugly.

“R0! EEEEEEEEEEE!” Peregrin squealed and nearly managed to fling himself out of Frodo’s arms as he reached in the direction of the dining area.

“Now, you have to stop that, Peregrin,” Frodo sighed. “Come on, Merry,” he continued, looking down at his younger cousin’s amused face. “Let’s walk him into the dining room and maybe he will settle down a bit.”

“See?” Merry said. “He always gets what he wants.” He grudgingly followed Frodo.

As they reached the dining room Peregrin began to giggle and wave his arms. His entire face was glowing now and his eyes sparkled. “Ero!” he shouted, joyfully.

“I’m glad to have that settled,” Frodo said, still having trouble holding onto the wiggling child.

Merry snorted. “He’s spoilt!” he declared. “You’d think it was his birthday and not Aunt Geranium’s.”

“I suspect that he doesn’t know that it’s anyone birthday at all, Merry,” Frodo smiled. “He’s too little to understand much.”

“He understands what makes folks do what it is that he wants them to do,” Merry said, arching an eyebrow at the baby. “I think he knows stuff even if he can’t say much.”

It was Frodo’s turn to snicker. “You do, do you? So you think that this tiny imp is plotting something, do you?”

“Laugh if you want, but I’ve watched him,” Merry said. “He knows stuff. He’s annoying, but he’s clever.”

As Merry made this pronouncement, Peregrin stuck one finger up his own nose and gurgled.

“He does stuff like that just to fool you,” Merry said, glaring at the baby. “I’m on to him and I have been since the first time you made me hold him. I knew then that he was trouble.”

Just then, Peregrin began to wave his arms about and struggle again. The tiny bells on his trousers were jingling like mad now. He seemed to be trying to climb over Frodo’s shoulder. “EEEE! Roh! MY!”

Merry laughed. “I warned you, but no one listens to me about anything,” Merry said.

Frustrated, Frodo turned to look behind him to see what the child might be trying to reach and as he did so, Peregrin screamed.

“What?” Frodo asked, the annoyance plain in his voice. “What do you want?”

Frodo looked at the chair and frowned. Someone had tossed a coat over the arm of the chair. There was a bag of hard candy sitting beside of the chair leg, a box with handkerchiefs inside of it lay on the chair, an umbrella leaned against it, a paper hat that Bilbo had made for one of the little lasses sat on the chair, and something that was still wrapped in gift paper sat next to it. It looked as if the package might have been opened earlier but now it was covered up by paper and tossed aside. Under the edge of the chair was a large red ball. “Get that ball, Merry,” Frodo said, hopefully. “That looks like something that he might like.”

Sighing as if he’d been asked to move all of the furniture in the room, Merry walked over and retrieved the ball. “Here, but he won’t like it,” Merry said as he handed the ball to Frodo.

“That one doesn’t,” Merry said, knowingly and sure enough, Peregrin began to pull away and whimper as Frodo held up the ball.

“Peregrin, don’t you like the ball?” Frodo asked. “Look it bounces!” He dropped it to the floor and let it bounce back up into his hand and Peregrin buried his face in Frodo’s shoulder and whined. Frodo let the ball drop and kicked it gently underneath the chair where it had been and looked questioningly at Merry. “Why doesn’t he like balls?”

“I was tossing one in the parlor the other day and I may have hit him in the head with it once or twice,” Merry said in an off-hand manner. “It was only a little tap on the head, but now he doesn’t like balls very much.”

“So you did,” Frodo admitted as Peregrin looked up and reached for the chair and yelled again.

“Well, Meriadoc, you’re the expert,” Frodo said. “What would your guess be? Oh, and before you begin, I am not giving him the umbrella!”

“He might want the candy, but he’s too little for it,” Merry said, thoughtfully. “Mum says I can’t give him hard candy because he’d choke on it.”

“He wants my gift!” Merry said, looking at the baby accusingly. “He wants the present that Aunt Geri gave me!”

“Your gift?” Frodo frowned, looking back at the half wrapped package on the chair.

“He squealed when I opened it before,” Merry growled. “It was mine and she gave him a gift but now he wants mine too!”

“What is it?’ Frodo asked. “I believe that I was outside having a pipe with Bilbo when she gave out the children’s gifts.”

“It’s nothing much, but it is mine and so he can’t have it,” Merry said, fiercely. He folded his arms over his chest and stared sternly at the baby.

Peregrin leaned against Frodo’s shoulder and sniffled. Frodo stroked the little one’s soft curls and looked at Merry. “I understand,” Frodo said. ‘It is your gift from Aunt Geri and it is probably too grown up for Peregrin anyway.”

Merry fidgeted and looked at the floor, taking one of his toes and moving it in a circle. “She did mean it for me,” he muttered.

“Of course she did,” Frodo agreed. “This little one has to learn that not everything here belongs to him. You may be right about that spoiling thing, you know. Adults do tend to go all soft in the head around babies.”

Merry gave a quick glance at the chair and then mumbled, “I didn’t exactly like it anyway.”

“Well, it’s just that she’s rather old and a bit muddled at times and I don’t think she remembered how old I am when she bought it,” Merry said, looking at the baby now. “I mean, I am too old for it. I’m ten now and it isn’t a proper gift for a lad my age but mum pulled my ear and made me say thank you all the same as if I really liked it. Then Berilac and the others laughed at me and made fun.”

Frodo frowned. “I suppose that she doesn’t realize how grown up you are,” he said. “But I am very sure that she didn’t mean any harm. Your mum was right to insist that you be polite about it, whatever it was.” Frodo glanced over at the package wondering what it might contain.

“Determined, aren’t you?” Frodo sighed. “Well, it isn’t yours and you are just going to have to accept that, my little lad.” Frodo tweaked the child’s pointed nose and then looked at Merry. “What did she give him?”

“That ball,” Merry sighed, looking underneath the chair. “He screamed and cried so that Pearl had to take him out of the room after that.”

“I see,” Frodo said, trying not to laugh. “So Aunt Geranium thinks that ball is a proper gift for a two-year-old-“

“Right,” Frodo said. “I can see, now that you’ve told me your story about that ball hitting him in the head, why he didn’t want this one. I guess there would have been no way for Aunt Geri to know that at the time she selected his gift.”

“She’s not terribly good at picking out gifts,” Merry said, stiffly. “Mine was all wrong as well.” He glared over at the package. “Berilac will tease me all week about that gift.”

“It’s an old stuff toy like you’d expect a baby to have,” Merry said, embarrassed.

“I see,” Frodo said. “That explains why Peregrin wants it and it also explains why you don’t.”

“Oh, all right!” Merry said, crossly. He stalked over to the chair and retrieved the package as Frodo sat down on the floor with the child sitting in front of him. Peregrin continued to squirm and reach for the chair and so Frodo had to hold on to him. The little one could crawl if he were given the chance. Frodo had seen him do it and the little hobbit was quite fast.

Merry returned with the package and laid it in front of Peregrin and said, “It’s a baby toy anyhow and you are a baby so I suppose that you can have it.”

“Yes, it’s yours now,” Merry answered him, pushing the package toward the child.

Peregrin worked with the paper clumsily, tearing bits of it off and tossing them behind him so that they landed on Frodo while Merry smirked. The little child’s face was very serious as he tried to get the package open. After a few minutes, Merry sighed and reached over to help. “Do I have to do everything for you?” he asked, as Peregrin sat up and left the unwrapping to Merry, smacking his hands together and cooing.

“Here,” Merry said, finally and he held out a very large, stuffed, grey, rabbit with black button eyes and floppy ears.

Peregrin bounced on his rump on the floor and held out his arms with excitement. “Mymymymymy!” He wrapped his arms tightly about the rabbit and rubbed his nose on its fur. “E-rol!” he crowed. “Mymymymymy!”

“I have an idea,” Frodo smiled. “But you will have to keep an eye on Peregrin for a few minutes if it is to work.”

Merry sighed. “What are you going to do?” he asked, as Frodo slid the little hobbit over so that Merry could hold onto him.

“I may have a way to fix everything if you’ll give me about ten minutes, Merry,” Frodo said.

Merry looked at the little child who was hugging the rabbit and cooing into its fur. “Well, all right, but if he does anything messy while you’re away, I am saving it for you,” Merry said, putting the child on his lap.

Frodo hadn’t returned until it was time for the birthday lunch, but Merry hadn’t minded because Peregrin had gone off to sleep holding the rabbit in his arms and had not made any mess or been any trouble. Merry’s mum had taken the baby and put him in a crib near the table along with the rabbit and everyone had been seated at the table. Across from Merry, Berilac hissed, “Where’s your bunny, Merry?”

Merry had glared at him and whispered back, “ How would you like it if I stuffed that bunny down your throat?”

Merry gave him a puzzled look, but had no time to ask what he was to wait for because his Aunt Geranium was standing at the head of the table ready to give her birthday speech.

“I am old,” Geranium began and everyone laughed. “I have been old for quite some time now, but I don’t mind it so very much. In fact I am rather pleased to have made it this far and to have seen all that I have seen and done all that I have done. I do want to thank all of you for a very lovely birthday, particularly Esmeralda, for having this wonderful party for me.” She paused and everyone was beginning to think that she was finished and that they might get down to the business of eating when she cleared her throat and said, “Because I am rather old, I sometimes forget things or mix them up a bit and so I have to apologize to one of my favorite nephews before we begin our meal.” She leaned forward, steadying herself by leaning a hand on the table. “Merry, I am afraid that I mislabeled your gift. That stuffed rabbit was supposed to go to the baby, but I am having a bit of trouble remembering his name and so I must have written yours instead.”

Merry looked at her intently unable to say anything at all. “I had wrapped a pipe to give to you, but I seem to have left it at home in all the fuss. I have no idea who that red ball was meant for,” she said with a sigh. “I do hope you will forgive me.”

Merry stood and nodded. “Yes, Aunt Geranium. A real pipe?” he asked, in amazement.

“Yes,” she said, with a twinkle in her eyes. “I had thought that you were nearer to sixteen than you are.”

“As I have made a mess of things, perhaps you will accept a bit of coin instead,” she said, laying some change on the table. Merry looked at his mum who nodded her approval and then quickly made his way around the table to collect the change and give his Aunt a hug while Berilac watched jealously and Frodo smiled.

“Did I do that properly,” Aunt Geranium asked, Frodo when they were seated alone in the parlor. Just outside of the room in the hallway, Merry was gloating a bit to Berilac and several other lads, all of whom were giving Merry their full attention and quite a bit of respect.

“You were wonderful,” Frodo said, giving her hand a firm squeeze. “It couldn’t have gone better.”

“Well, I was worried about what Esmeralda might think of that pipe idea of yours, but since I didn’t actually give the lad a pipe I suspect that all is well for now,” she chuckled. “I really did think he was much younger, you know.”

“I know,” Frodo said. “There are so many of us that it’s hard to keep it all straight, isn’t it?”

“It is, unless you have a wise young lad like you for assistance,” she said, smiling at him. “That was very thoughtful of you. Now, young Meriadoc feels better and I don’t look like a such an old fool for giving him that rabbit.”

“We both know that all of you Bagginses are sweet talkers, Frodo,” Geranium laughed. “You have dear Bilbo’s way with the ladies, I suspect.” She winked at him.

“I suspect that Merry thinks that of you about now,” she said, looking out at the lad in the hallway with his cousins.

“And all of this started out as a way to keep little Peregrin from crying,” Frodo said, with a sigh. “That little one is quite a handful.”

It was late and Merry was supposed to be in bed, but he had crept into the nursery and was leaning over the side of Peregrin’s crib and whispering to the baby who was looking up at him happily with an arm about the large, grey, bunny. “Maybe you are useful some of the time,” Merry said. “If you hadn’t carried on about that rabbit, then Frodo wouldn’t have spoken to Aunt Geranium and straightened things out the way he did.”

The baby kicked a foot and gurgled and Merry continued. “Frodo went out to see if maybe she might be willing to trade the rabbit for the ball so Berilac wouldn’t be able to tease me and that’s when he found out that Aunt Geri meant to give me a pipe on account of she thinks I’m older than I am,” Merry said, proudly. “Berilac is so jealous! Naturally, mum won’t let me have a pipe until I’m older, but I can buy loads of sweets with the money that Aunt Geri gave me and Berilac is ever so jealous because I look older than him and I’m not.”

Merry grinned. “I don’t care what they think, you know. I know that you’re lots smarter than they realize and even smarter than you let on. You can’t fool me, you little Pip Squeak. You wanted this old rabbit and so you figured out how to get it, didn’t you?”

“I thought so,” Merry said, with a smile. “Just don’t try anything on me because I know all about you. You’re tricky.” He turned to go and the baby whined softly.

Merry looked back and said, “Oh, all right. Thank you for helping out today, but I do know that you only did it to get that rabbit. This may be the first time that you and I have worked on something together, but I do know perfectly well that you got what you wanted out of it too.”

“That is a very strange name for a stuffed rabbit, Peregrin,” Merry said. “But if you insist on calling it Errol, than I suspect that you’ll get your way. You always do.”

The wind that morning had been no more than a gentle breeze, but by noon the sun had dimmed and a full out gale was blowing. Frodo hated to do it, but he had no choice. A storm was coming and it was a good idea to get Pippin inside before it started. He would have liked to get Merry back inside also but he doubted that the older lad would be as easy to find.

Frodo walked out into the garden beside of Bag End and began to look around for Pippin. He had instructed the twelve-year-old child to stay in the garden and had even spent extra time making sure that Pippin knew exactly where the boundaries of the garden were. Frowning up at the darkening sky, Frodo wondered if perhaps Pippin had followed Merry and the older lads out of the garden. It had happened before.

“Pippin!” Frodo called. “Pippin, it’s going to storm. You need to get inside now!”

There was no answer and so Frodo walked further out into the garden. Just past the apple tree, Frodo noticed that the door to the Gaffer’s storage shed was standing open. Frodo distinctly remembered telling Pippin to stay out of the Gaffer’s things. “Peregrin Took, you come out here at once!” Frodo shouted, making an effort to speak loudly enough to be heard over the sound of the wind.

There was no answer and Frodo watched in annoyance as the door to the shed banged against the side of the building. The wind was getting stronger with each passing minute. Soon the rain would begin to fall. Frodo decided that the sound of the wind might be keeping Pippin from hearing him and so he went over to look inside of the shed.

He had never liked the little shed. The Gaffer had wanted a place in which to store his gardening supplies and Bilbo had agreed to let him build this little eyesore in behind the apple tree without ever giving a thought to how dreadful it might look. Frodo had always thought that the little shed spoiled the look of this part of the garden. Also, something about the building, which was so unhobbit-like in its appearance, gave Frodo a nervous feeling. He’d never liked coming in here.

Resigned to searching the tiny structure for his wayward cousin, Frodo pushed aside his dislike for the shed and went in. The shed wasn’t very large and it was piled high with all sorts of oddments. The Gaffer had stored a barrel of nails in one corner. The barrel was sealed but someone had painted the word “Nales” on the side of it in big white letters. The Gaffer, like a great many hobbits, didn’t read and so Frodo suspected that Sam had labeled the barrel a few years back before his spelling had improved. He smiled and continued to look about.

Pippin liked to hide just for the entertainment of watching others look for him and even though the shed was small, there were lots of nooks and crannies big enough for a lad of twelve to hid in and not be seen. On top of the barrel of “Nales” there lay several apple cores and so someone had been here recently.

The Gaffer had several feet of rope coiled and hung on a peg at the back of the shed. Three hoes leaned against the wall next to the rope. Several pots that could be used for smaller plants sat in a cluster on the floor. There was a stool, a rake, a wheel barrow, a broken wheel barrow, some extra tomato stakes, some twine, four shovels, an old trunk with the lid missing, a wagon wheel, a saddle with both stirrups missing, several little garden trowels, no less than eight containers of paint, several paint brushes, two posts that Frodo recognized as being from the back fence, some flat stones that could be used for making a walkway and a wall of shelves and dusty old boxes.

Suddenly, there was a loud thud and Frodo whirled about to see that the wind had blown the shed door closed. “Lovely!” Frodo said to no one in particular. It was obvious now that Pippin wasn’t in here. He might have been in here earlier eating apples, but the lad was gone now. Frodo walked over to the door and pulled on the knob. Might just as well continue his search elsewhere. If Merry had taken Pippin with him without letting Frodo know, then there would be two hobbit-lads in trouble.

Frodo pulled the knob again and nothing happened. It rattled but the door didn’t come open. Suddenly a wave of panic hit him and he tugged harder at the door. He pounded on it with his fists. He took a step back and then threw his shoulder against it. It rattled, as if to taunt him, but it did not open.

The shed was darker with the door shut. The Gaffer had built a small six-inch opening into the top of the shed to allow some light to come in, but there was no actual window. With the storm coming, the sky had darkened and so there really wasn’t much light coming in at the moment. The boards of the door had tiny cracks between them and that let some light in, but not nearly enough to make much difference.

Frodo pounded on the door in frustration. Maybe if Pippin were in the garden, he would hear the noise and come and let Frodo out. Frodo laughed and spoke aloud, “Frodo Baggins, you are now at the mercy of a twelve-year-old Took. No good can come of that.”

Frodo kicked the door with his foot, which only succeeded in causing pain to shoot up his leg forcing him to sit down and rub his foot. Next to him on the floor he found a wedge-shaped block of wood, which he held in his hand and admired. “Where were you a minute or two ago?” he asked. This was the wedge that the Gaffer always put under the door to keep it propped open while he worked in the shed or got supplies out. It would have been nice if it had been underneath the door earlier.

Frodo stood up and limped over to the barrel marked “Nales” and lay the wedge down on top of it. He wondered if there might be anything in here that he could use to get himself out of this predicament. He wondered where Merry might be about now. He wondered if Pippin was with Merry. He wondered how long it might be before anyone missed him. How long after they missed him might they think to look in this shed?

“I could starve to death in here,” Frodo said. Suddenly he caught sight of something looking at him and he backed up against the opposite wall. Something was peering at him from one of the shelves. It was something fuzzy and a bit ratty looking. Frodo’s eyes widened and he heaved a sigh of relief when he realized what it was. Errol!

Frodo hadn’t seen Errol in a while. In fact, he hadn’t thought too much about Errol in quite some time. He chuckled and walked over and removed the large, stuffed rabbit from the shelf. “So, Errol, I know how I managed to get into this fix,” Frodo said, running a hand over the furry stuffed rabbit’s ears. “Just how did you wind up in here?”

A loud crack of thunder sounded and Frodo instinctively hugged the rabbit to himself and then sighed. “Look at this,” he said to the rabbit. “I am a grown hobbit and here I am trapped in a shed that I have never really liked and clinging to a stuffed rabbit for comfort during a storm! I am supposed to be a responsible adult. In fact, I am supposed to be watching out for Merry and Pippin. You remember Pippin, don’t you?”

Errol said nothing, of course, and so Frodo continued. After all, there was nothing else to do at the moment. “I wonder if Pippin knows that you’re out here in the Gaffer’s shed? Did he put you here or did someone else do that?” Frodo considered the brown bunny intently as if willing it to give up its secrets.

The thunder sounded again but this time it came as less of a surprise and Frodo sat down with the rabbit in his hands and sighed. “It looks as if it will be just you and me for a while, Errol. I think that the storm is going to keep everyone inside. I don’t suspect that anyone will be looking for either of us anytime soon.”

Frodo tried to remember the last time he’d seen Pippin dragging this rabbit around. Pippin loved this old toy and had slept with it for years. Every time the lad would come to Bag End to visit, he’d have the rabbit under one arm and his pack under the other. Errol had slept with Pippin until Merry had begun to tease their younger cousin about the rabbit. That had been just after Bilbo had left.

Frodo sighed. “I suppose lots of things have changed in the past few years, Errol,” Frodo said. “I’ve come of age and become the Master of Bag End, Bilbo’s gone, Gandalf hasn’t been about for a while, and you have been relegated to the Gaffer’s shed.” He looked around the dimly lit little building and laughed. “I guess we’ve both been relegated to the shed. At least we have company, don’t we?”

The rain was pounding against the roof. Frodo sat with his back to the wall and his feet stretched out in front of him with Errol on his lap. For some strange reason, he felt better now that he had Pippin’s stuffed rabbit in his hands. He wasn’t about to admit that when he was found, but it was true.

He remembered an argument between Pippin and Merry that had taken place not too long after Bilbo had left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s a stuffed toy, Pippin,” Merry said, sounding disgusted. “You’re too old to sleep with it.”

“Give up the rabbit, Pip Squeak,” Merry said, taking the toy out of Pippin’s hands and holding it out of reach. “You don’t want other lads to make fun of you for sleeping with a stuffed toy.”

“Give him back, Merry!” Pippin shouted. “He’s mine and I want him! Give me my rabbit!”

“You’re too old for this,” Merry said, sternly. “This is a baby toy and you are always telling me that you aren’t a baby anymore so you don’t need this bunny.” Merry held the rabbit over his head and looked down at Pippin’s face as the youngster tried to snatch the toy by jumping up and grabbing at it. Merry was so much taller that Pippin didn’t have a chance. Merry was tall for his age and he was eight years older than Pippin. The twelve-year-old was outsized but Pippin was never the sort to give up easily.

Pippin suddenly pulled back a foot and kicked Merry hard in the shin. “Ouch!” Merry yelled, dropping the rabbit and grabbing his injured leg.

Pippin scooped up the rabbit and ran from the room yelling out as he went, “I am not a baby and you leave my rabbit alone, Merry!”

“As soon as I can walk again, I am coming after you Pippin!” Merry shouted.

Frodo chuckled. Pippin might be smaller and younger, but he was not easily out-matched. “You must be a very important rabbit, Errol,” Frodo said. “Pippin usually goes along with whatever Merry tells him, especially if Merry tells him that something makes him look like a baby.”

Frodo frowned. “I hope they’re both inside and warm and dry.” He put the rabbit against his chest and stroked its fur. “They’re good lads, both of them. Merry only teases Pippin because he’s so fond of him and even though they do torment the very life out of me at times, I always look forward to their visits especially now that Bilbo is gone. It’s very pleasant living alone and it suits me quite well, but sometimes even I like a bit of company.”

The wind howled outside and battered the little building with all of its force while Frodo talked to the rabbit. “Merry is at that dreadful age where he thinks that no one knows more than he does. He believes that he has all of the answers that he will ever require and naturally he has no reason to listen to anyone about anything. The truth of it is, Errol, most of the time Merry does have all of the answers,” Frodo chuckled. “That one is far too smart for his own good. He will be a real chore to keep in line from here on.”

He shifted his position on the hard floor and continued. “Now, Pippin is just a complete handful. That one is into something every minute of every day. He can’t keep still even when he’s asleep. He thinks he’s every bit as grown up as Merry and he is the nosiest little lad that I have ever come across. I can’t count the number of times that I have found him snooping in my drawers, or rummaging through the cupboards and he’ll look up at me when I catch him and say, “What’s this, Frodo?” He doesn’t apologize for any of it. It’s maddening, Errol,” Frodo confessed. “One of these days, that lad is going to land in a pile of trouble because of that curiosity of his. He’s already got into some nasty situations because of it.”

The rain droned on and so did Frodo. Errol, being a very patient stuffed rabbit and used to constant chatter as he belonged to Pippin, sat quietly in Frodo’s lap doing what all good stuffed companions do, giving comfort to those in need of it.
____________________________________________

It was a full three hours later when Merry opened the door to the shed and placed a large rock against the door to hold it open. The storm had stopped as suddenly as it had begun and the wind was, once again, only a gentle breeze.

Pippin peered around the doorframe and then whispered to Merry, “What’s he doing?”

“I don’t know, but it looks to me as if he’s taking a nap,” Merry whispered back.

“That’s what it looks like to me,” Merry said, as he and Pippin tiptoed into the shed and looked down at their older cousin. Frodo was slumped against the wall of the shed sound asleep with a large stuffed rabbit held gently in his arms. His face was resting against the rabbit’s head, pressing its ears down on either side.

Merry groaned and slapped his forehead as Frodo jerked awake and sat up straight. His eyes fell at once on Pippin who was squatted down and looking happily at the rabbit in Frodo’s arms. “You found Errol!”

Merry smirked. “Aren’t you a little too old to be sneaking out into the shed to sleep with Pippin’s rabbit, Cousin?”

Frodo scowled up at him in embarrassment and forced the stuffed toy into Pippin’s waiting arms. “I just fell asleep is all,” Frodo muttered, getting to his feet. “The wind blew the door shut and I got locked in here during that storm.”

“Why didn’t you prop the door open?” Merry asked. “The Gaffer has a wedge somewhere in here, but if you can’t find it, you can always use a rock.”

“Thank you for that pearl of wisdom,” Frodo growled, rubbing his back which felt stiff from his nap on the floor. “The next time I come in here I will remember that.”

“It’s all right, Frodo,” Pippin said, still holding the rabbit. “I forget those sorts of things all the time when I’m exploring.”

“At least you found my rabbit,” Pippin said, ignoring Merry and slipping his hand into Frodo’s. ‘I’ve looked everywhere for him. I wonder how he got all the way out here? I don’t remember bringing him out here. Do you remember me doing that, Merry?”

“I wonder how he got all the way out here?” Pippin said, clutching the rabbit tightly and looking at it fondly.

Merry averted his eyes and said, “It doesn’t matter, Pip. Frodo found it.”

“Yes, I did,” Frodo remarked, managing to catch Merry’s eye. “I only hope I don’t find Errol anywhere else unusual.”

“Oh, I promise to keep up with him better, Frodo,” Pippin said, thinking that this warning might be directed at him. “I know it was careless of me to lose him like that.”

Frodo continued to look at Merry as the three of them began to walk back to Bag End.

“I just don’t remember bringing him out to the garden shed,” Pippin said, furrowing his brow and trying to puzzle out the mystery. “But thank you so much for finding him, Frodo.”

“You are very welcome, Pippin,” Frodo said, as the three of them entered Bag End.

“I put the rabbit in the shed, all right?” Merry said, stopping and looking down at Pippin. “I took it and I hid it from you in that shed because I knew that you weren’t supposed to be in there.”

Pippin’s eyes widened with surprise and he hugged the rabbit even tighter. “You hid Errol in the shed?”

“Look, Pip Squeak, I only did it because you’re getting too old to be sleeping with a stuffed rabbit,” Merry said. “I didn’t want anyone teasing you about it and so I hid the rabbit.”

“You’ve slept just fine without it,” Merry pointed out. “Why old Errol here has been in the shed since the last time we visited Frodo and that was nearly three months ago.”

“Pippin, it’s only a stuffed bunny,” Merry said. “It isn’t as if I put your sister, Pervinca in the shed or anything.”

Merry looked over at Frodo and sighed. “I really only did it because he’s too old for it, Frodo. Someone has to take it away from him or the other lads will tease him about it.”

“Merry, what other lads are we talking about?” Frodo asked, as he put a kettle on for tea.

“Well, you know,” Merry said, sounding uncertain. “The other lads that he knows.”

“Merry, the only other lad who is staying at Bag End right now is you,” Frodo said. “And you are also the only lad teasing Pippin about his rabbit.”

“Well, what if he takes it other places, Frodo?” Merry said, defensively. “He brings it to the Hall with him when he comes to stay with me and I know he sleeps with it at his smial. What if some of the other lads found out?”

“Is this about Pippin, Merry or is this something else?” Frodo asked, cutting himself a slice of cheese. He’d been in the shed long enough to be hungry.

Frodo nodded. “I know that, but he doesn’t and so you better explain it to him. That stuffed rabbit isn’t the only thing around here that he depends upon, you know.”

Merry sighed again and left to find Pippin while Frodo greedily stuffed another chunk of cheese into his mouth. Errol had been fine company out in the shed, but there hadn’t been anything at all to eat.
____________________________________________

Pippin was curled up on his bed with Errol in his arms when Merry came in and sat down.

“No you’re not,” Pippin said. “Frodo made you come and tell me that, but you’re not sorry at all.”

“Yes, I am,” Merry said. “I really did take Errol for your own good, Pip.”

“When I was your age, I had this old blanket that I liked a lot,” Merry said in an embarrassed tone. “I used to sleep with it at night and I liked to have it with me when I was sick or just feeling bad about something.”

“Did any of your mean older cousins steal it and hide it in a dirty old garden shed for your own good?” Pippin asked, still angry.

“No,” Merry said. “Berilac and Freddy caught me sleeping with it on the sofa one afternoon and they teased me something fierce about my baby blanket and they told some of the other lads about it.”

Pippin sat up and moved over next to Merry leaving Errol to fend for himself for a moment. “Why would they tease you about sleeping with a blanket, Merry?” Pippin frowned. “Everyone sleeps with blankets.”

“This one had a bunch of little lambs on it and it was pink,” Merry said, blushing.

“One of my aunts made it when mum was carrying me in case I was a lass or something revolting like that,” Merry grumbled.

“Because I found it when I was about two and I liked it so mum let me keep it, all right?” Merry glared at Pippin and dared him to say anything. Pippin continued to grin but he didn’t say anything and so Merry continued. “I only took Errol so that something like what happened to me wouldn’t happen to you.”

Pippin hugged Merry tightly and then said, “I don’t care what the other lads think of Errol, Merry.”

Merry pulled away from Pippin and looked at him. “You will if they start teasing you in front of folks and asking you where your baby blank-er, bunny rabbit is.” Merry blushed.

“Couldn’t I just sleep with Errol a little longer?” Pippin asked. ‘I’ll try real hard not to get caught by anyone.”

Merry looked down at the earnest little face and sighed. “I suppose it’s all right. If anyone finds out and picks on you, I’ll beat them up for you.”

Pippin hugged him again and said, “Thank you for looking out for me, Merry.” Then after a pause he said in a whisper. “I don’t think we should tell anyone about Frodo sleeping with Errol. He really is too old for a stuffed rabbit.”

Out in the hall, Frodo grinned. It was comforting to know that his secret was safe with Pippin.

“Did you drink all of your medicine?” Merry asked, not looking up from his book.

“Do you have to ask that every single time?” Pippin growled, sitting down on the sofa and glaring over at his older cousin.

“That’s good,” said Merry as he turned another page in the book. “Now cover up with that blanket or go to bed were it is warm. You don’t want to get a chill.”

“How do you know what I want at this very minute?” Pippin demanded, a bit hoarsely. “How do you know that I don’t want to get chilled to the very bone right now? I may want to just swing the door wide open and stand in front of the winter breeze until my ears freeze off and my feet turn to ice.” He coughed for a few seconds after delivering this speech, but Merry said nothing.

Pippin stood, rumpled shirt hanging out over an old pair of trousers, hair in tangles, eyes a bit too bright, and began to wander about the room picking up objects at random and then returning them to their place. Merry watched this out of the corner of his eye and muttered softly to himself. Pippin coughed again and then wrapped his arms about himself as if freezing to death. Merry rolled his eyes and muttered again.

“You did too,” Pippin said, irritated. “You said something. What was it?”

“If it wasn’t important, then why did you bother saying it?” Pippin demanded.

“You say unimportant things nearly every time you open your mouth and I don’t question why you are doing it,” Merry said. “Do me the same courtesy, will you?”

Pippin glared at him, coughed again, and moved over closer to the fireplace to stand, his arms still wrapped about his chest. “I wasn’t aware that we were being courteous,” Pippin said, stiffly. “I do beg your pardon.”

“No matter,” Merry said, turning to the next page of his book. “I forgive you.”

Pippin was seething now. He stamped a foot and turned his back on Merry who was grinning ever so slightly. Pippin coughed again and followed this with a sneeze. He pulled a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and blew his already sore nose. Merry rolled his eyes and made a great deal of noise turning another page in his book. Pippin shivered and then turned to face Merry. “You gave me this cold to begin with, you know,” Pippin said accusingly, looking miserable.

‘I know that,” Merry said. “But that was certainly not done on purpose, I can assure you. You are far too ill-tempered when you are sick for me to have deliberately given you my cold.”

“I would not be ill-tempered if you would quit fussing,” Pippin said, glaring at him. Merry turned another page and did not look up. Finding Merry’s refusal to pay attention to his complaints unacceptable, Pippin tried another tactic. “What are you reading?”

Merry looked up and met his cousin’s eyes for the first time in the conversation and closed the book. “A mystery,” Merry said. “But it isn’t terribly mysterious or very entertaining.”

Pippin shifted his feet a bit and moved as close to the fire as he could without setting himself a blaze. “It isn’t?”

“No, I’ve read something like it a time or two before,” Merry said, with a sigh. “I can almost guess how it will end.”

“What’s it about?” Pippin asked, as Merry stood and removed a wool blanket from the sofa.

“It’s about a long-suffering, patient hobbit who is forced to deal with an unreasonable, younger relative,” Merry said, wrapping the blanket about Pippin’s shoulders.

“It is annoying for the most part,” Merry agreed. “The poor fellow is doing the best that he can, but he is met with adversity at every turn. No matter what he suggests, his relative is annoyed by it.” Merry put an arm around Pippin’s shoulders and began to steer him toward his bedroom. “In fact, I wonder why the dear hobbit even tries. He is extremely under-appreciated and all of his sage advice is ignored. He must be very frustrated, but yet he continues to push on.”

Pippin yawned. “Why does he continue?” he asked, as they walked into his bedroom.

“I don’t exactly know for sure,” Merry said. “That is the mysterious part of the entire thing.” Merry stood and watched as Pippin crawled into his bed.

“He should just leave it go,” Pippin said. “His younger relation obviously doesn’t plan to take his advice so he would be better off to quit trying.”

Merry tucked the blankets around Pippin and sat on the side of the bed. “Well, I think he doesn’t give up because he is concerned about his relative,” Merry explained. “He worries about him and he is only trying to help, but the poor muddle-headed, stubborn, insufferable, idiot simply won’t listen to reason.”

“Maybe the *idiot* is simply in a very foul humor and in no mood for advice no matter how well-intentioned it may be,” Pippin said.

“Perhaps,” Merry said, pushing Pippin’s hair back from his forehead a bit. “But I tend to believe that the stubborn twit is simply being his usual self and that the poor, wise, older hobbit should realize that he is wasting his breath and his very good advice. After all, the younger hobbit hardly ever listens to anything the older one says anymore.”

“Maybe the younger hobbit listens just like always, but is very tired of hearing the same old advice,” Pippin said, turning over on his side and facing away from Merry. “Maybe, now that the younger hobbit is nearly of age, it is time for the older hobbit to let him make his own decisions and to quit giving him so much advice no matter how well-intentioned that advice may be.” Pippin coughed again and Merry patted his back.

There was a slight pause and then Pippin said, “The older hobbit isn’t going to quit yammering on is he?”

“No,” Merry said. “And the younger hobbit isn’t going to quit being so bone-headed and listen to reason anytime soon, is he?”

“See,” Merry smiled, pulling the blanket up around Pippin’s shoulders. “I told you that I knew how it ended.”

“No,” Pippin said, a bit grumpily. “You generally know everything about everything and most especially everything about younger cousins.” He sounded very cranky and terribly annoyed.

Merry chuckled. “I’ve had a bit of practice,” he said, gently as Pippin snuggled down into his blankets and closed his eyes.

As Merry left the room, he heard Pippin mutter, “You practice entirely too much, Merry.”

Grinning, Merry returned to his chair by the fireplace knowing that he’d won that round at least. “Sleep well, you stubborn twit,” Merry whispered, affectionately.

Quite some time ago, I came upon a plot bunny that had been 'donated' to Shirebound's plot bunnies by Lindelea and I decided to try and write something using that bunny as a starting point.

The bunny was: When approaching Farmer Maggot's house, Pippin tells Frodo that the good farmer is a good friend of Merry’s. How did this come about?

And this is the story that came from that bunny. As it happens, Lindelea was generous enough to Beta this one for me. So those of you who have read her wonderful stories may recognize a bit of her style in this. With thanks to Shirebound for listing this bunny and to Lindelea for donating it and for the Beta, here is the tale.

(The portion of this story in bold type is taken directly from “A Shortcut to Mushrooms” in The Lord of The Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien.)

“Turn around and go home this instant!” Merry said, narrowing his eyes and glaring at his younger cousin. “I told you not to follow us and I meant it. Now, go home, Pippin!”

“I can come this way down the road if I want,” Pippin said, his voice sounding less firm than he would have liked. “Tis’ a public road and anyone in the Shire can come this way.”

“You aren’t just coming this way. You are following us,” Merry said. ‘Now, go home before you get us all into trouble. Go on!”

Merry turned to follow the others and Pippin stopped for a moment and watched them. He let them get a few steps ahead and then resumed his pursuit. He dared not let them get too far ahead or they would lose him for sure. They were taller and had longer legs. It was hard enough to keep up with them when he was actually invited to come along. Running behind after them was even more difficult. He’d been trying to keep up with them ever since they’d left the Hall early this morning after first breakfast and he was determined not to lose them now.

Merry had caught up to Berilac and Falco and the three of them were walking along with their heads close together. They were plotting. Pippin wished desperately that he could hear what they were saying and that he was in on the planning. He continued to tag along after them at what he thought of as a safe distance wishing desperately that he were older like Merry.

The others ignored him until they had reached their destination and then the three older lads turned on him. “You need to get back up to that Hall, now,” Falco said, sternly.

“I can come,” Pippin objected. “I’m a fast runner and I won’t slow you down, I promise.”

“You are too little for this sort of thing, and my grandmum could out-run you,” Falco said.

“Go on, Pip-Squeak,” Berilac said with a sneer. “If you’re a good little lad, then maybe Merry will play with you later.”

“You look twelve,” Berilac said. “But either way you need to go on home. You’ve no business following tweens about like a little puppy.”

“I do not look twelve!” Pippin said, straightening to his full, if unimpressive, height.

“Yes, well, you aren’t exactly twenty now, are you?” Falco said, more gently than Berilac.

“Go home, Pip-Squeak, and let Merry have a few minutes when he doesn’t have to be a baby-minder,” Berilac said.

“Then quit acting like one and go home,” Merry said, speaking for the first time. “Go on, now. This doesn’t concern you. Besides, if Mum finds out you crossed the Brandywine on your own, you’ll be in serious trouble.” Merry put a stern look on his face and tried to sound convincing.

“You just don’t want me coming because you’re planning to steal some of Farmer Maggot’s vegetables! What will your mum say when she finds that out? How much trouble will you be in then?” Pippin said, loudly.

“See?” Berilac groaned. “I told you that you couldn’t trust him. He’ll get us all caught with that loud mouth of his and we haven’t even done anything yet! I thought you told old Otis not to ferry him across!”

Pippin glared at Merry who shrugged and answered Berilac. “I did. I told Otis that Pippin wasn’t allowed to cross the river without supervision and I also told him that he shouldn’t bring Pippin across.”

“Well, he didn’t listen to you, did he?” Berilac said, with a look at Pippin.

“I told him I had a message from Uncle Saradoc for Merry and he brought me over right quick then,” Pippin said, smiling. “He was sure he didn’t want to be on the wrong side of the Master.”

“You’ll get Old Otis let go from his post if you keep that up,” Merry said. “He’s not too sharp-witted and running the Ferry is about all he can do, Peregrin Took. If Doc gets wind that you are able to trick Otis that easily, then he’ll have no choice but to post someone else on the Ferry and then what will happen to Otis?”

Pippin looked stricken. He liked Otis even if some of the local lads did tease the old hobbit. “I just wanted to come with you, Merry,” Pippin said. “I don’t want Otis to get into trouble.”

“Well, he will if you don’t quit being too clever for your own good!” Merry said, sternly. “Now, you know the rules. You’re to stay near the Hall and away from the river unless you’re with me or an adult.”

“I am with you, in a way,” Pippin said, twisting his toe in the dust of the road and eyeing Merry hopefully.

“Maybe we’d better do this another time,” Falco sighed. “He’ll tell on us.”

“I can see it all now,” Berilac sighed. “If we don’t let him come then he plans to tell on us, but if we do let him come he’ll get us caught for sure.”

“Pippin wouldn’t do that; would you, Pip?” Merry asked, sounding a bit desperate. The other two were older than he was and he didn’t want to get left behind because of Pippin. “You wouldn’t tell out of spite, would you?”

“No, but please let me come, Merry,” Pippin begged. “I won’t get you caught. I run really fast now that I’m taller.”

“Taller?” Falco snorted looking down on him. “You’re not taller than any of us, are you?” He then turned to Merry and said, “Come on if you’re coming, Merry. You can play with the little lad or you can come with us. Your choice.” He turned and put an arm about Berilac’s shoulders and the two of them started off. Now Merry was the one being left behind.

“Sorry, Pip,” Merry said. “You really are just too little for this. Now get on back to the Hall or I’ll tell Doc about Old Otis and you. We’ll trade tales and see who spends the most time in Coventry!” He then turned away and ran to catch up to the others.

Frustrated and hurt, Pippin began walking slowly back up the road. It was a long way back to the Hall. He should tell on them. He should tell on them all and it would serve them right if he did. No one would blame him. After all, they had left him out of things and insulted him and so he didn’t really owe them his loyalty. He sighed heavily and sat down beside of the road under a tree, pulling his knees up under his chin. He hoped that they all got caught!

After they had gone a few steps, Merry ventured to look back and was relieved to see that Pippin was no longer trailing after them.

“Looking for something, Merry?” Falco said, raising an eyebrow. “Or someone?”

“I was just making sure that he wasn’t still following us, that’s all,” Merry said. “He can be a pest that way,” he continued in an effort to convince Falco and Berilac that he found Pippin annoying.

“I don’t know how you put up with him. Even though his folks do saddle your parents with him half of the time, that still shouldn’t be your problem,” Berilac said disgusted.

Merry’s hands fisted at his side but he held his tongue. It was his natural impulse to defend Pippin but he knew that doing so now would get him sent home as well. This was the first time he’d been included in one of these raids and he didn’t want to miss out. He’d heard the older lads tell of this sort of thing and he had always wanted to go on a garden raid. In fact, it would be fun to brag to Frodo the next time that his saw his older cousin. (He wondered if Frodo had ever done anything as daring as this?) If he defended Pippin then he’d miss his chance. “What do we do first?” Merry asked the others in an effort to shift the topic away from Pippin.

“Well, the first thing you need to know is that it is every hobbit for himself,” Falco said. “If any one of us gets caught we don’t tell on the others and the others are just to keep on running back to the Hall and act as if they were never near the place. You do understand, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Merry said. “No reason for everyone to get caught just because one of us does.”

Falco patted him on the shoulder and grinned. “You have the right of it, Merry. Now, remember; if you’re caught, you’re on your own. You can make up whatever tale you like as long as it doesn’t involve either of us. If you can talk your way out of trouble then that’s fine, but if not, you take whatever he dishes out and say nothing about us.”

“Of course I won’t,” Merry said. “I’ve been in trouble lots of times on my own. I know how to take responsibility for it. If I get caught, I won’t tell on either of you. But if you get caught, then I don’t want you telling on me.”

Falco laughed. “Don’t worry, Merry, I never get caught. Berilac did that once, but he kept his mouth shut about me and Freddy.”

“Because of last time,” Berilac grinned. “Freddy is afraid of the dogs.”

Merry remembered others mentioning Maggot’s dogs. Merry liked dogs and animals in general. He wasn’t worried about the dogs, really. He was a bit surprised that Freddy was, though. It didn’t sound like him. He wondered if there were many dogs in Budgeford. Maybe Freddy just wasn’t used to dogs. Merry’s father always kept dogs and so Merry was very good with them.

“You just be quiet and quick and you’ve no need to fear the dogs,” Falco said. “A couple of them are getting old and are kind of slow anyway. Pippin just might have managed to out-run them.”

“They aren’t that slow,” Berilac snickered. “Just don’t hesitate to run if you hear anything coming your way, Merry. I don’t care what Falco says about those dogs; even if they are old they still have enough teeth to give you a good reason to run.”

Merry nodded. For some reason, the mention of the dogs’ teeth made him shiver. It might have been something that Frodo had told him once, but he wasn’t altogether sure just now and there wasn’t time to dwell on it.

They were now standing before a gate located in the center of a wide hedge that surrounded the Maggot property. The others were moving toward the hedge. He knew that soon they would be in the actual garden itself and then there could be no more questions and no more talking.

Falco turned to Merry and took him by the shoulders. Even though Merry was younger by several years, they stood eye to eye. Merry had always been tall for his age which helped him to fit in with the older lads. He, unlike Pippin, looked older than he was.

“Now,” Falco whispered. “We shall see what sort of garden-raider you are, Merry.” He fixed Merry with an intense stare and continued in the same low whisper. “Keep your head down, your eyes open, and your mouth shut. Don’t take more than you can carry and don’t pick anything that isn’t ripe enough to eat. If we all do a proper job, then we should have feast enough for all three of us and with Farmer Maggot none the wiser. You just need to be alert for any unusual sounds and don’t go too far in. The closer you stick to the hedges, the less likely you are to get caught.”

Merry grinned, anxious to prove himself to the others. “I’ll be fine, Falco. You don’t need to worry about me,” he assured him, softly.

Berilac smiled. He had helped talk Falco into letting Merry come along and he was pleased to see that his younger cousin was making a good impression. If Merry looked good, then he would look good for recommending that Merry be allowed to come along. Pippin had nearly spoiled everything earlier, but Berilac was relieved to see that the little hobbit’s begging had not swayed Merry. Merry had held firm. This was going to go splendidly.

The three of them moved apart, ignoring the gate and taking different paths over the hedge into the garden. They figured this would reduce the risk of all of them getting caught and increase the chances of gathering a wider variety of vegetables. It wasn’t wise to go in all at the same place; then everyone came back with the same thing. Tomatoes were wonderful, but it was even better if you managed to get some carrots and cabbage to go along with them.

As he slid into the garden, Merry could feel the hair on the back of his neck rising and he absently rubbed at the goose flesh on his arms. His palms were sweating and every small sound seemed to be magnified three times over. He crouched low and moved with care into a lovely patch of carrots. The garden was lush and green and smelled sweet. He inhaled deeply, taking a moment to admire Farmer Maggot’s skill as a grower, and then moved forward with near-silent steps, being careful not to tread on any of the plants.

Merry listened for intently to be sure that all was quiet and then knelt down and began to select some of the larger carrot plants, pulling a few from the rich soil. He enjoyed the moment when each sweet, orange carrot popped from the ground. He smiled broadly as he put the carrots into the sack that was slung over his shoulder. Berilac had told him that it was best to come prepared with a way to carry out your “take”. Merry could hear his cousin’s voice saying, “It’s a sore trial to find that you’ve come upon a fine crop of mushrooms and have no means to carry them.”

Merry realized that he was getting too many carrots and that if he hoped to impress the others and be allowed to come again, he ought to move to something else. He stepped away from the carrot patch and began moving off toward a patch of mushrooms. He bent down and began to fill his bag with them. He was feeling much more confidant now with a sack half full of carrots, and mushrooms added into the mix. His palms had stopped sweating and that little prickling at the base of his skull no longer troubled him. This was easy!

He began to search for the choicest mushrooms. His mum had taught him how to do this when he had been a very small lad, in an effort to keep him from eating something harmful. There was an art to selecting mushrooms. Of course, there’d hardly be any harmful mushrooms growing in Maggot’s fields, but his mother’s careful instructions also came in handy for selecting the best of the best! “Remember, Merry darlin’, not all mushrooms are safe to eat. You have to be very careful, and even with the safe ones you want to take only the freshest.” He could still hear her voice and it gave him a slight pang of guilt. This was hardly the time to be thinking about his mum. She would certainly not be happy with him if she could see him now. He quickly pushed this image from his mind and continued gathering the mushrooms.

Now, if Merry could just find one other vegetable, he suspected that his share of the raid would be hailed a success. He began to cut across a row of broccoli plants in search of another crop. He hated broccoli and so he was certainly not planning to take any of that. As he moved across the field, the breeze lifted the lovely growing smells into the warm, summer air.

Farmer Maggot certainly had a large farm. Merry felt that he might never reach the end of it and that nagging prickling feeling was returning. He was too far in and Falco had warned him not to go too far. Confused and suddenly nervous, Merry decided to turn around and head back toward the carrot patch. Two vegetables would just have to be enough to impress the older lads, and certainly the mushrooms would make up for any lack. He was starting to get a very bad feeling about this. It was time to move back to the hedge.

Berilac was leaning against a tree just outside of the hedge munching on a handful of sweet peas when Falco climbed over with a full sack and a smile on his face.

Falco ambled over as if they were in their own back yard with no worries and replied, “Some lovely tomatoes, a few potatoes for roasting, some radishes, and some peas, but you already seem to have some of those.”

“Not a bad day’s take,” Berilac said around a mouth full of Farmer Maggot’s peas. “Wonder what Merry will find?”

“I just hope he’s back here soon,” Falco said. “Did I remember to tell him to keep his raid short?”

“I’m not sure,” Berilac said. “I would think he’d know not to mess about for too long in there anyway. Merry’s clever. I’m sure he’ll be along in a few minutes. He’s probably just enjoying himself.”

“Yes, well, too much of that will get him caught,” Falco sighed, snatching some of Berilac’s stolen peas and popping them into his mouth.

At that moment, a grinning Merry was making his way back toward them. He had no idea what had made him nervous a few minutes earlier. The weight of his sack against his shoulder reminded him just how simple all of this had been so far. In fact, he wasn’t exactly sure why this sort of thing was considered to be so daring. It had all been a bit of a let down as far as he was concerned. There had been no excitement to this except for a few minutes after he’d crossed the hedge, and that had been largely due to his own inexperience. He’d been apprehensive, but now his worries seemed unfounded. Pippin could have done this!

He was nearly back to the carrot patch when he spotted something. It couldn’t be! Strawberries! Merry loved strawberries and here, just in front of him, was an entire patch of them, and each of them looked more ripe and juicy than the next. Forgetting his plan for a quick escape, Merry bent down and began to pick the strawberries. They were gloriously ripe and ready for picking. Forgetting himself completely, he popped a large berry into his mouth and savored the taste.

Grinning, he decided to take more than he would need for himself and the others. He would surprise Pippin with the extras and that should make up for his earlier treatment of his younger cousin. Pippin would forgive him for everything once he had tasted these berries. Merry sighed as a bit of guilt wormed its way into his thoughts. Pippin would forgive him without the strawberries. Pippin always forgave him. He quickly put that thought out of his mind and helped himself to another strawberry. He was eating nearly as many as he was putting into his sack.

He had just bitten down on a particularly sweet berry and was allowing the juice to trickle down his throat when a hand fell on his shoulder; he felt the pressure as the fingers tightened.

“They any good this year?” a rough voice asked just inches from his ear. “Haven’t had any yet myself, so I’m curious ‘bout how they are. What do you think?”

The berry instantly went sour in Merry’s mouth and he swallowed hard. It felt as if he might choke on the pulp. Suddenly, the sweetness was gone and the berry seemed to be lodged in his throat. He gasped and forced it down.

“What’s the matter? They ain’t sour are they? I hate sour berries myself,” the voice said as the hand on his shoulder pulled him to his feet. He felt himself being turned around and found that he was looking into the weathered face of Farmer Maggot.

Merry struggled to say something but nothing would come out. He wanted desperately to run but he felt as if someone had planted his feet in the soil beneath him almost as deeply as Farmer Maggot’s carrots. The sack slid from his shoulder and landed next to his frozen feet.

Merry hadn’t noticed them before. There were two of them, one standing on either side of Farmer Maggot and now both of them were barking loudly at Merry. Merry pulled back a bit but the farmer held him in place.

“Don’t move or I’ll let them have you,” Maggot said, with a nod toward the dogs.

Falco put his hand on Berilac’s shoulder and groaned. They both heard it at the same time. Farmer Maggot’s dogs were after something or someone and that someone was most likely Merry Brandybuck. “Run, Berilac,” Falco instructed and the two took off down the road at full speed.

“He knows the rules,” Falco replied. “You do too, but if you want to risk your neck and go back, I won’t stop you.”

“Not me,” Berilac said, and the two continued to run for safety, leaving Merry to deal with Farmer Maggot on his own. It looked as if Merry’s first garden raid was going to be more than he’d bargained for. Now, Berilac could only hope that Merry would keep his word and not give them away.

Pippin could hear someone coming, and coming fast. He stood up from his spot underneath the tree and watched, as Falco and Berilac approached him, running for all they were worth. “Where’s Merry?” Pippin yelled out.

“Dogs probably have him,” Berilac said as they stopped in front of Pippin, panting for breath and loaded down with vegetables.

“You don’t understand how these things work, Pip Squeak,” Falco sighed, straightening up. “It’s every hobbit for himself and it seems as if Merry got caught.”

“You have to help him!” Pippin objected, looking up at Falco. “It was his first time! You’re supposed to show him how it’s done!”

“You don’t know anything about this,” Berilac said. “Now, if you’re as smart as Merry is always saying that you are, you’ll get your scrawny self away from here before you’re mixed up in something you had no part in.”

“Run on home and don’t say anything to Merry’s parents about this,” Falco said. “Merry will get himself out of trouble or Farmer Maggot will bring him home directly. He wouldn’t let the dogs eat Merry.”

“Those are the rules,” Falco said. “I’d expect him to leave me if things were reversed.”

“He wouldn’t leave either of you,” Pippin said. “You’re both a couple of cowards!”

“I’m going after Merry!” Pippin declared and began to run in the direction from which they had come.

“Get him, before he gives us all up!” Berilac shouted, but Falco grabbed his arm.

‘Let him go,” he said. “He won’t go far and he won’t have the nerve to go into the garden. You and I need to get out of here and hide these vegetables before anyone comes looking for us. How do you think it will look if we are caught boarding the Ferry with loaded sacks?”

Berilac groaned and watched Pippin run out of sight. For some reason he felt stung by the younger lad’s words but he didn’t have the nerve to own up to his part in all of this and so he fell into step with Falco as he led them off of the road, into the trees, and out of sight. “Pippin’s right. We are cowards,” he sighed, but Falco either hadn’t heard him or was ignoring him just now.
_____________________________________________________________________

For some reason, Merry was lying on his back in the dirt. He raised slowly up onto his elbows and looked at the dogs. He realized that he must have fainted and his misery was now complete. Not only had he managed to get caught, but he had also fainted like a lass.

Merry marveled at the way the dogs continued to growl at him while wagging their tails for Farmer Maggot. The dogs that his father kept out in the barns near Brandy Hall were nothing like this. They were sweet-faced soft-eyed creatures that licked your hands and would fetch a well-thrown stick. These weren’t even like the sheep dogs that he and Pippin played with out near Pippin’s family’s farm. Those animals were clever, but gentle. Farmer Maggot’s dogs did not seem at all gentle. They might be intelligent, but there was no gentleness about them, no, not at all.

“So, what have you to say for yourself, young thief?” Farmer Maggot asked, eyeing Merry from underneath a wide-brimmed hat.

“No?” Farmer Maggot said, eyeing the fallen sack once more. “Then I suppose that those are your vegetables from your very own garden, aren’t they?”

“I thought as much,” Farmer Maggot said, looking closer at Merry. “You’re the Master’s lad, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Merry nearly whispered. He was hardly bringing honor on the family name at this moment, and for the first time in his life, it was painful to admit who he was. He had always been proud of his family and position but now he felt only shame.

“Well, don’t think that will get you any special treatment,” Farmer Maggot said. “I’ve dealt with lads from the Hall before and as far as I’m concerned, a thief is a thief no matter who his father is.”
_______________________________________________________________________

Pippin reached the end of the road and found himself looking at Farmer Maggot’s gate in the middle of a neat hedge. He didn’t hear any dogs, and he didn’t see Merry anywhere. If Merry had managed to get away then he should have come out onto the road just like Berilac and Falco had only he hadn’t seen Merry at all.

Pippin sighed and screwed up his courage. He climbed over the gate and into the garden. He couldn’t find Merry standing on the road. He’d have to search the garden or give up and go home. He couldn’t leave Merry like the others had done and so the only thing to do was to look for his older cousin in Farmer Maggot’s fields.

He had no idea where to begin but he supposed that he might as well see if he could find Farmer Maggot’s house. He suspected that if the farmer had Merry that he would probably take him there or to Brandy Hall. He straightened his shoulders and began to walk away from the hedge.

One of Farmer Maggot’s sons joined him at that moment and frowned. “That’s the third one in a week,” he spat, looking at Merry in disgust. “When is the Master going to do something about this?”

“Oh, I think you might want to ask this one here about that, lad,” the farmer said, with a nod toward Merry. “It seems that this is the Master’s son right here in our strawberry patch. I suspect that might be your answer there.”

Farmer Maggot’s son shook his head. “So, we’ll be needin’ more dogs and a much higher hedge.”

“That may be the right of it but we’ve no call to judge what the Master of the Hall will do based on the actions of this youngster,” Farmer Maggot sighed. “I’ve always believed the Brandybucks to be fine and upright folk, and the folk of the Marish have looked to the Master for a long time. There is no way to know what will come of this just yet. Just because his lad is up to mischief it doesn’t mean that the Master won’t do what is proper. Still this ain’t exactly a good sign.” Merry wanted to protest, but miserably he realized how his own actions were the cause. Before he could find the words to say, he found Farmer Maggot speaking to him once more. “Now, you get up from the ground and come up to the house and I’ll reckon what’s to be done with you there. It’s nearly time for luncheon and I won’t leave the misses with a full table for the likes of you.”

“Yes, sir,” Merry managed, miserably. He slowly got to his feet feeling light-headed and a bit wobbly. “W-What are you going to do with me?”

“Well, you are in a powerful lot of trouble aren’t you?” Farmer Maggot said. He paused and when Merry was unable to answer him, he looked at his own son. “Help him to the house and let him lean on you. I think he’s a bit unsteady. I believe he fainted.”

Farmer Maggot’s son chuckled and put an arm around Merry’s waist. “I’ve got him.”

“I really didn’t faint,” Merry mumbled, looking down at his feet. Both the farmer and his son ignored this remark.

I’ll get his stolen goods here and we’ll be off to eat. Your mum will be waiting.”

Merry felt himself being propelled in the direction of the farm house which he could just make out. In spite of his protests, he was glad to have someone to lean on because his legs still felt like they might give way at any moment. He was embarrassed, ashamed, and weak-kneed. Without the support of the strong arm of Farmer Maggot’s son, he knew that he would most likely be sitting on his rump in the dust right now.

Pippin continued to cross the fields in the hope of finding the Maggot’s house or Merry. It seemed so odd to him that these folks in the Marish lived in houses rather than smials. He didn’t think he could ever get used to that sort of thing. He’d been in only a few houses and he much preferred smials. He made no effort to hide himself but he seemed to be traveling unnoticed just the same. Normally he would have been tempted to pick a tomato or a carrot to munch on as he walked but just now his stomach didn’t seem to want food. He was far too worried about what those dogs might have done to Merry. He had to find his older cousin. He’d heard stories about Maggot’s dogs from the older lads at the Hall.

Pippin was just making his way through a rather nice bed of lettuce when a young lass looked up at him and frowned. She had a hoe in her hands and was wearing a large hat like his sister Pearl wore to work in the fields at home. He waved to her and she waved back with a rather puzzled expression on her face.

The walk to the house was one of the longest that Merry had ever experienced in his short life. No one said a word. Even the dogs were silent. When they reached the sturdy little farmhouse, Merry was taken into the kitchen and eased onto a chair by Maggot’s son. Across the room, other members of the family were putting food on a very large table. They looked over at Merry curiously, but continued with their work.

The son snorted and Farmer Maggot said, “Missus, it seems that the Maggots will be entertaining the son of the Master of Buckland at lunch today, but before that, you might want to have a look at him. He went and fainted out there in the midst of our strawberries.”

Merry blushed and squeezed his eyes shut. Did Farmer Maggot plan to tell everyone this?

“Oh, dear!” she sighed, and came over and knelt down in front of Merry putting her hand on his forehead. “Must be the heat. It’s powerful warm today and he’s not wearing a hat.”

“No trouble at all, dear,” she said. I just brought a bucket of cold water in from the well not ten minutes before you arrived. I’ll get a cool cloth for your head and bring you a drink of water. You’ll be put right in no time!” Her voice was cheery as she left him to get the water and the cloth. Merry returned his eyes to her spotless kitchen floor.

“My missus is a fine healer in her own way,” Farmer Maggot said. “No fancy trainin’ but out here on a farm you learn a thing or three about treatin’ the sick and the injured. We don’t get too many lads faintin’ on our property, but a couple of my daughters have swooned a time or two. You’re in good hands.”

Merry wanted to hide under the table in shame. He had swooned like a lass. Why was the farmer not telling his wife what he’d caught Merry doing? Why was he letting her tend to him like this? Why wasn’t someone yelling at him or sending for his father so that he could yell at him?

He sat there in the Maggot’s kitchen feeling guilty while the farmer’s wife held the cool cloth on his forehead. Various members of the family moved about the kitchen helping to ready food for lunch and speaking to one another. Jests were exchanged and there was talk of the crops and the market sprinkled in among questions about this one’s health or that one’s upcoming wedding. All the while, Merry stared at the floor and willed himself to disappear.

“Now, you take slow, small sips of this water or you’ll be sick,” Mrs. Maggot instructed as she handed him the cup.

“Go on, lad,” Farmer Maggot encouraged roughly and Merry raised the cup to his lips and sipped. The water was cool. He felt it wash the last traces of the strawberries down his throat and was, for the first time that he could remember, grateful to be rid of their taste.

“It feels much better, thank you,” Merry mumbled. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

“It was no trouble, lad,” Mrs. Maggot said, breezily. “Now, you come over here to the table and join us for luncheon. It’s just plain country fare and nothing fancy, but there’s plenty of it.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Merry said, looking at her for the first time and seeing her eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiled at him. Her hair was light brown and generously salted with grey, all of it pulled back from her sun-baked face into a knot of some sort to keep it out of her eyes while she worked.

“Of course you can, dear one,” she said. “You will need to wash up a bit first. You look like you’ve been digging in the dirt.”

Merry hid his hands behind him as he remembered that it was the soil of the Maggots’ carrot patch that covered his grimy hands. He quickly looked away from her and shook his sweaty curls. “I’m not hungry, thank you.”

“I can’t for the life of me imagine a growing lad that isn’t hungry,” she objected. “Our own are always hungry. Can’t fill the youngest lad just lately and I’ll judge that you’re not but a few years shy of him. How old are you, lad?”

“Twenty-three,” Merry said, glad for a question that didn’t embarrass him.

“Then I suspect that some part of you is hungry whether you know it or not,” she chuckled. One of my lasses will get you settled in proper and we will see how hungry you are. But first, step over to the sink and wash your hands and face a bit. A fine lookin’ lad like you should be seen at his best at mealtime.” She took Merry by the shoulders and steered him toward the counter.

“Do what she says, young Master, “Farmer Maggot said. He walked over and sat down in a large chair at the head of the table.

Merry had this strong urge to run out the back of the house and keep going but he knew that the farmer’s dogs were out there somewhere. He washed up and the farmer’s wife led him over to the table where a large group, including Farmer Maggot and the son who had helped Merry from the fields, sat around a well-spread table.

“This is the Master’s son, what’s your name, dear one?’ the farmer’s wife asked.

“This is Master Merry Brandybuck and he is joining us for luncheon,” she smiled. “Now, you sit next to my lass, Lily and she’ll see to you.” She started him in the direction of an empty chair. “Not every day we have such grand company for lunch, is it?”

“It must be our day for company, mum,” another lass said as she came into the room. “Look what I found wandering about in our lettuce patch as bold as brass buttons on a new coat.”

Merry looked up to see that the new arrival was another of Maggot’s daughters--and Pippin! As Merry looked on in surprise, Pippin smiled and spoke to Mrs. Maggot. “Peregrin Took, at your service and at your family’s.”

“Pippin!” Merry said, his hand on the back of the chair. He had just been ready to sit down, but now was frozen in place by surprise.

Pippin’s eyes lit up and he crossed the room at a run, wrapped his arms about Merry’s waist and hugged him. “Oh, Merry! You’ve not been eaten alive after all! I was worried when I saw the others come back and you weren’t with them and they said you were on your own and they wouldn’t help and so I came alone and you’re still alive!”

There was a general chuckling at all of this by the farmer’s family, and the lass that had brought Pippin in said, “It would seem that my guest knows yours.” She arched an eye at her father as he moved over toward the two cousins.

“Young Master Peregrin Took, what were you doin’ on my land today?” the farmer asked, bending over and looking at Pippin, who now had a death grip on Merry’s hand.

“Looking for my cousin,” Pippin answered in a much steadier voice than any that Merry had managed during his visit here.

“I’ll be the judge of what his part might have been,” Maggot said, sternly. “Now, why are you here?” He looked at Pippin.

“I came to find Merry because it was all they would let me do,” Pippin said, softly.

The farmer smiled at him. “So, they thought you too young for raidin’ the fields, did they?”

“I’m nearly fifteen,” Pippin piped up and Merry groaned. “But they thought I’d be too slow and get everyone caught.”

“He wasn’t with me,” Merry said, pulling Pippin closer to him and putting an arm around him. “He’s just fool enough to come looking for me after I got caught.”

“Someone had to and those others are cowards!” Pippin said, stoutly, not moving from Merry’s side. ‘It isn’t right to leave your friends behind like that to save your own hide.”

“There is no honor among thieves, young Master Took,” Farmer Maggot said, trying not to smile and failing. “Now, all of this is putting a stop to my lunch and this is a working farm so we have little enough time for meals. You two lads sit and eat and we’ll talk more on this afterward.”

“You’ll not feed Merry to the dogs, will you?” Pippin asked, as Merry pinched his arm to silence him. “Ouch, don’t, Merry; I have to know!”

“I don’t think we’ve fed anyone to the dogs in some time, and I suspect that today will not be the day we do so,” Farmer Maggot said as his family snickered at Pippin. “Now, sit yourself down and have something to eat.”

Pippin was seated next to the Maggot lad who had helped bring Merry in from the fields with Mrs. Maggot on the other side of him, while Merry was seated next to Lily with another Maggot lass on his other side.

In spite of all of the wonderful food and a very long morning with elevenses missed, Merry had no appetite. Lily filled his plate for him, but he was barely able to eat anything at all. He took his fork and slid his food around and tried not to look at anyone.

Pippin had no trouble at all eating and in between bites he soon became the center of attention as he rattled on about his father’s farm in Whitwell, his favorite foods, the Ferry, his cousins, and anything else that came to mind. The Maggot family was a fine audience and all were soon smiling and laughing at Pippin’s ramblings. Merry supposed that it was much easier to be charming and at ease when you didn’t have a guilty conscience.

After lunch, the farmer’s family scattered in a hurry, each off to whatever chores needed doing, leaving only Merry, Farmer Maggot, and Pippin at the table. Mrs. Maggot and Lily were clearing away the dishes and the farmer looked over at Pippin and then caught his wife’s eye.

“So, Pippin Took,” Mrs. Maggot said with her hands full of dishes. “How much do you know about cleaning a kitchen?”

Pippin smiled at her and stood. “I have three sisters and they make me help all of the time.”

“Good, then you’ll be right at home here,” Lily said, putting an arm around him in an effort to guide him along, but Pippin stopped and looked worriedly at Merry.

Merry looked over at his younger cousin and managed a reassuring smile. “Go on, Pippin. I have some explaining to do. I’ll see you after.”

Pippin looked at Merry and then at Farmer Maggot. “You do know that you can’t feed my cousin to your dogs, don’t you? His father is the Master of Buckland and--”

Merry groaned. “Pippin, Mister Maggot knows who my father is, now go on. No one is going to be eaten by any dogs.”

Pippin flushed and allowed Lily to steer him toward the dishes and Merry looked over at the farmer. “He doesn’t mean any harm, honest, he doesn’t. He just doesn’t always think before he says things.”

Farmer Maggot looked at Merry intently and said quietly. “Oh, he was thinkin’ just fine, son. He meant to let me know that you were important and that the likes of me shouldn’t be thinkin’ of doin’ you any harm. That’s exactly what he meant.”

The farmer looked at Merry for a moment and then stood. “Let’s you and I go into the parlor and have a little talk, shall we?”

Merry nodded and stood also, grateful that his legs would now hold him. He followed the farmer into the parlor and sat stiffly down in a large, well-worn chair. He was glad that Pippin would not be joining them for this discussion. He knew exactly what Pippin had intended to do with his earlier remarks and the little scamp had done it. It wouldn’t do to have Pippin defending him throughout this entire conversation. Merry also didn’t like to think of Pippin hearing what might be said. He might complain about Pippin tagging along after him and looking up to him, but Merry enjoyed the fact that his little cousin was so proud of him. He hated to think of that changing.

Farmer Maggot seated himself across from Merry on an equally worn sofa and nodded his head toward the kitchen behind them. “That little one would fight a pack ‘o wolves for you. Are you worth it?”

Merry looked at Maggot and shook his head. “Not really, but he seems to think I am. I know I’m not worth much of anything today.” He sighed and then asked, “You aren’t going to punish Pippin, too, are you?”

“I didn’t catch that him with a sack of my vegetables,” Maggot said. “My dealings are with you, young Master Brandybuck.”

“Please,” Merry said uncomfortably. “Just Merry.” He didn’t like being reminded of who he was just now for some strange reason. He found himself wishing that his father were a farmer like Pippin’s right now and not the Master of Buckland. He seldom envied Pippin his life out in the middle of the Tooklands, but right now he did. Being ordinary folks sounded like a very tempting thing at the moment.

“All right, son,” Maggot said. “I can call you ‘Merry’ if you like, but it won’t change a thing. You’ll still be the Master’s son and the thief that I caught in my field today, won’t you?”

“You see, you aren’t the first lad from over the water that I’ve caught in my fields, and you won’t be the last, I’ll wager,” he said. “Seems that raiding my garden has become a big temptation to you lads and your lot are hardly the first. Why, when you were younger than your plain-speakin’ friend in my kitchen there, Buckland lads were stealing my mushrooms and makin’ off with my tomatoes. Why do you think I keep those dogs?”

“I got the first of them to try and scare lads like yourself away from my fields,” Maggot said. “This land here has been in my family for a long time and in all that time, the only threat we’ve had is lads like you and a few wolves now and again. The wolves, I understand. Food gets in short supply for them in the winter months and sometimes they have no choice but to come lookin’ for a stray calf or a few chickens. You, on the other hand, don’t look like you’ve fallen on lean times and neither do the others that I’ve caught.”

“I suspect that you eat well and often,” Maggot said. “So, I have to ask myself just exactly why a lad like you might want to steal from the likes of me? The only reason that comes to mind is that you do it just for amusement. What I don’t understand is how it can be amusing to take what don’t belong to you from those that can ill afford to lose it!”

“Not thinkin’ can get a fella in trouble, lad,” Maggot said. “If you keep it up, it’ll land us all in trouble later on. Someday, you’ll be the one that farmers like myself come to in times of trouble. Someday you’ll be the Master of the Hall. I do hope that you’re planning’ on doing a bit of thinkin’ when that time comes.”

“I never meant to hurt anyone, honest,” Merry said, his grey eyes filling with tears of shame. “I didn’t think it would matter that much.”

“This farm feeds my family and several others,” the farmer said. “I have lots of hobbits who work along side of my own family and all of them feed their families from my fields. I have ten children of my own to feed and two grandchildren and another on the way.” The farmer pulled Merry’s sack out from under the chair where he had stowed it before lunch. He emptied it onto the table. “There’s a fine meal of carrots and mushrooms right there. But if you’d have run off with it, we’d be one meal less around here.”

“I didn’t think about that at all, sir,” Merry admitted, wiping his eyes with his shirtsleeve.

“When things are hard for some of the families in Buckland, don’t they come by the Hall for meals?” Maggot asked.

“Well, when things are hard for some of the other farmers around here with less land than us, they come by here to fill up their corners,” Maggot said. “If things get hard for my farm, then I’ll be coming to the Hall. Your father is a fine Master and he does right by us even though we’re on this side of the water. We’re closer to being part of Buckland than we are to being part of the rest of the Shire. The farms in the Marish have always looked to the Master in times of trouble. Now, when I go to the Master and I tell him that lads from Buckland are robbing my family’s farm and that one of those lads is his own son, what do you suppose he’ll do?”

“He’ll make it right,” Merry said. “He’ll find the lads that have been in your garden and he’ll speak to their parents. He’ll make restitution for what you’ve lost.”

Merry gulped. “I suspect that he’ll go hardest on me. He won’t tolerate what I’ve done because it’s stealing and it isn’t right.”

“No, sir!” Merry said, suddenly angry. “He’s a fair hobbit and an honest one and he’d never do anything of the sort!”

Merry’s anger died quickly. He couldn’t think of anything at all to say to this and he suddenly wished that Pippin were still in the room. Pippin might not have the right answer, but he would have an answer.

“You see,” Maggot said. “What you do is on his plate too. He’s got the whole of Buckland at his door, but you are his son and if you set a bad example then it takes away from him.”

“No, but how does it look if his own son is out raiding gardens?” the farmer asked in a gentler tone. “How are folks around here to know that he done his best if his own son turns out to be a sneak thief? And while we’re at it, you’d best think on that little one in my kitchen. Do you want him lookin’ up to a thief?”

“No,” Merry said. He stood so suddenly his head swam—perhaps he really had taken too much sun—but he didn’t care. “I want the chance to make things right. I want to repay you for what I’ve done today.”

“I have some money of my own,” Merry said. “Let me pay for what I took and for what the others bore away or let me work it off in your fields. I’ll work hard and you’ll get a full day from me every day until you think that I’ve paid my debt to you.”

“That I doubt, but I can guarantee that they won’t be in your fields again,” Merry said, stoutly.

“And how in all of the Shire can you promise a thing like that?” the farmer asked, eyeing Merry intently.

“No, sir,” Merry said. “You’re to take the word of the son of the Master of Buckland.”

“All right,” Maggot said, getting to his feet and offering his hand. “We’ll shake on it like gentle hobbits.”

Merry extended his own hand and shook the farmer’s hand. “I’ll come by every day until my debt is paid to you and I’ll see to the others.”

“That will be fair enough,” Maggot said. “Now, I suspect that I had better get you and the little one back home. I won’t expect you here tomorrow. Rest up and think on what you done and then come the next day. Be here by second breakfast. I feed my workers before I set them to their tasks. Oh, and...” the farmer’s shrewd eyes twinkled, “be sure and bring a hat along with you!”

Pippin, who was standing in the kitchen doorway listening in spite of Mrs. Maggot’s efforts to keep him busy, walked quickly into the room and to Merry’s side. “Are we going now?”

Merry put an arm around him and smiled. “Yes, I have to see my father about a few things.”

While farmer Maggot got his cart ready, Mrs. Maggot packed a snack to send along with them. Merry and Pippin soon found themselves nearing the Buckleberry Ferry again. Pippin had talked most of the way there. Now that he was sure that Merry wasn’t going to be eaten alive by Maggot’s dogs, he liked the gruff old farmer.

Mr. Maggot pulled his team to a stop just around the bend before reaching the Ferry. “I’ll let you two off here and be headin’ back. I’ve work to see to.”

Merry’s mouth fell open. “Aren’t you going to speak to my father about all of this?”

“Don’t need to,” Maggot said. “My business was with you and we’ve settled that. You do what you think is best about the Master. If you keep your word, then I have no business at the Hall.”

Maggot pulled away, leaving two very confused hobbits in his wake. Pippin, naturally spoke first. “Are you going to tell Uncle Doc, Merry?’

“Why? You could just keep it to yourself and work things out with Mr. Maggot on your own. I won’t tell,” Pippin promised. “No one will know anything.”

The two weary cousins made their way to the Ferry slowly. Now, it was Pippin’s turn to look guilty as Otis asked, “Did you deliver the Master’s message to Mister Merry?”

“I lied earlier, Otis,” Pippin said. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to go with Merry and so I made it up. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“Well, I reckon it’s all right this time,” Otis said, with a small smile. “Long as you don’t do it again.”

“No!” Merry said, before Otis could be swayed. “Let Otis do that. He knows how it’s done.”

As they walked back to the Hall from the Ferry, Pippin tried to convince Merry to allow him to come with him when he talked to his father, but Merry refused the offer. “I have to do this on my own, Pip.”

Pippin nodded and they walked on in silence for a while. Finally Merry said, “Pippin?”

“You needed lookin’ after,” Pippin said. “You’re a lot of trouble, you know that?”

“Good thing I’m so responsible or we’d both be in trouble,” Pippin said, teasingly. “You’d better keep me around until you grow up a bit.”

“Finish helping me grow up, of course,” Pippin smiled, and Merry put an arm around his little cousin.

Merry was true to his word. He went straight to his father’s study and told him the entire truth, leaving out only the names of the other lads involved. He also left out Pippin’s lie to Old Otis and his younger cousin’s ride across the Brandywine alone. He made it seem as if he’d taken Pippin along but told him to wait for him outside of the hedge once they had arrived at the farm. It was the only lie that he told.

Having heard the entire story, Saradoc agreed to allow Merry to work off his debt to farmer Maggot and then added a punishment of his own. Merry was to spend his first free week after Maggot released him doing work around the Hall. As Merry left his study, Saradoc felt a hint of pride at the way in which Merry was handling all of this. He was also grateful to Farmer Maggot for making Merry see the seriousness of his crimes.

Merry spent the next two weeks working for Farmer Maggot. Pippin tagged along and insisted on working also. As there seemed no way around it, Maggot let Pippin help out as much or as little as he wanted to, but Merry worked long and hard. He was determined to prove himself and he did.

Keeping the other lads away from Maggot’s fields was easier than Merry had hoped. He explained it to them the way that the farmer had explained it to him and then he told them. “If I find out that any of you have been in the Maggot’s garden, I’ll go straight to my father. I made a bargain with Mr. Maggot and I mean to keep it! I won’t have him thinking that Buckland is full of thieves! We Brandybucks have our honor to think of and I mean to defend it!”

No one, certainly no other Brandybucks, could argue with defending the honor of the family name. Other, less honorable lads, simply didn’t want to have to explain their actions to their parents and so they also kept out of Maggot’s fields. Word soon spread that old Maggot was a personal friend of the Master’s family and that his fields were off limits. The raids stopped.

Merry’s plan to brag to Frodo about his raid on Maggot’s garden fell through. He was too embarrassed to mention it to his older cousin. He didn’t want Frodo thinking that he was a thief. He might tell him about it one day, but no time soon.

They passed along the edge of a huge turnip-field, and then came to a stout gate. Beyond it a rutted land ran between low well-laid hedges towards a distant clump of trees. Pippin stopped.

‘I know these fields and this gate!” he said. ‘This is Bamfurlong, old Farmer Maggot’s land. That’s his farm away there in the trees.’

‘One trouble after another!’ said Frodo, looking nearly as much alarmed as if Pippin had declared the lane was the slot leading to a dragon’s den. The others looked at him in surprise.

‘What’s wrong with old Maggot?’ asked Pippin. ‘He’s a good friend to all the Brandybucks. Of course he’s a terror to trespassers, and keeps ferocious dogs – but after all, folks down here are near the border and have to be more on their guard.’

‘I know,’ said Frodo. ‘But all the same,’ he added with a shamedfaced laugh, ‘I am terrified of him and his dogs. I have avoided his farm for years and years. He caught me several times trespassing after mushrooms, when I was a youngster at Brandy Hall. On the last occasion he beat me, and then took me and showed me to his dogs. “See, lads,” he said, “next time this young varmint sets foot on my land, you can eat him. Now see him off!” They chased me all the way to the Ferry. I have never got over the fright – though I daresay the beasts knew their business and would not really have touched me.’

Pippin laughed. ‘Well, it’s time you made it up. Especially if you are planning on coming back to live in Buckland. Old Maggot is really a stout fellow – if you leave his mushrooms alone. Let’s get into the lane and we shan’t be trespassing. If we meet him, I’ll do the talking. He is a friend of Merry’s and I used to come here with him a good deal at one time.’

Pippin couldn’t help but smile. It seemed that more than one of his older cousins had run up against old Farmer Maggot. He wondered if either knew of the others adventures?

“It’s far too hot out here today,” Merry sighed, leaning back on the grass. “Even the shaded areas are too warm.”

“Seems all right to me,” Pippin objected, sitting down between Merry and Frodo, both of whom were lying down in the grass on their backs.

“Well, it isn’t all right,” Merry grumbled, putting his arms behind his head and closing his eyes.

“Maybe we should have stayed inside for a while longer and let the sun go down a bit more,” Frodo suggested, eyes closed against the afternoon sun.

“We’d been inside for ages all ready,” Pippin frowned. “It’s beautiful out here today. It would be a shame to miss a minute of it.” He looked out at the little pond in front of him and watched the sun reflect on its surface.

The three hobbits were sprawled on the grass under a small grove of shade trees within a few feet of the small pond’s edge. It wasn’t a deep pond and it was not a suitable place for fishing but small hobbit children often came here to wade in the water that came up to Frodo’s waist at the deepest point near the center. The children would catch frogs and minnows and splash about happily. In fact, Frodo could remember bringing Pippin here when his younger cousin had been the right age for frog hunting. Frodo had sat with a book in his hands under these very trees and watched as Pippin had splashed about in the pond with some of the local Hobbiton lads. Now Frodo yawned, the afternoon heat sapping his energy, and stretched his legs out on the grass. “I have never considered time spent in doors with a good book to be a waste of an afternoon, Pippin,” Frodo said, wishing that he had thought to bring a book along.

“You can read any time,” Pippin sighed. “How many days are there as fine as this one for just being out of doors?” Pippin picked up a small stone and tossed it into the pond. “Look, I made it skip!” he smiled as the stone skimmed the surface three times before going under.

“Skip them all you like but try to do it quietly,” Merry said. “I feel a nap coming on.”

Pippin groaned and looked from one older cousin to the other in disgust. “When did the two of you become so lazy?” Pippin asked, skipping a second stone. “Why I remember when I couldn’t keep up with either of you and now the two of you can hardly stay awake in the afternoons.”

“You still can’t keep up with us,” Merry said. “You are behind on your napping, Pip. Frodo and I are starting without you.” Merry shifted a bit on the grass and got as comfortable as he was able to get outside.

“So you’ve both come out here to nap?” Pippin asked, getting more disgusted by the minute.

“We would be napping if you weren't yapping,” Merry said with a slight chuckle. “I made a rhyme, Frodo. We would be napping, if you weren't yapping, so kindly shut your mouth. Lay down on the grass or I’ll kick your little a-“

Frodo cleared his throat loudly just then. “Merry,” he said, trying to hide his own amusement. “That will do.”

“Well, at least you’ve done something besides lay about, Meriadoc,” Pippin snorted. “You’ve made up a rather poor rhyme. You should be proud of yourself. I doubt that you have the strength to do more than that, let alone kick anyone’s arse.”

“Do not tempt me,” Merry said, opening one eye for a minute and glaring at Pippin.

“It is too hot for all of this nonsense, lads,” Frodo said, wearily. “Now, behave yourselves and let an old hobbit sleep.”

Pippin folded his arms across his chest and sat there between his two cousins in the afternoon silence. Nothing was stirring about today. Merry and Frodo were not the only ones taking a lazy day it seemed. Pippin didn’t even hear any birds. He stood and stretched and looked down at his two cousins. “So this is what it will be like now that both of you have grown too old to stir about much?” Pippin asked.

“That is only because you are too young to understand the value of a nice nap under a shade tree,” Merry said.

“Do sit down or wander off and bother someone else, Peregrin,” Frodo sighed, draping an arm over his eyes.

“Well, I suppose that I can understand it all in your case, Frodo,” Pippin said, sitting back down between his older cousins. “I mean after all, you are getting on in years. I suspect that before too much longer you won’t be able to make it out to your own gate to get the post without help. I had heard that the Bagginses held up better than most hobbits in their golden years, but I am beginning to suspect that was not accurate in the least.”

Merry snickered as Pippin continued. “No, I suspect now that was merely a rumor in much the same way that there are rumors about all of that gold that is supposed to be buried in the hill about Bag End. Bilbo must have been a rare case among Bagginses to have stayed active and vital for so long,” Pippin sighed. “I can see that you are nearly done in just by our short walk here.”

“You are about to go too far, Peregrin,” Frodo said in a warning tone of voice as he uncovered his eyes and glared at Pippin. “And I can hear you snickering over there, Meriadoc. Contrary to what some young pups say, I am not deaf nor am I on my last legs.”

“Of course not,” Pippin said, leaning back on the grass on his elbows. “With you, Frodo, some failings are understandable. It is really Merry that I am worried about.”

“I mean it, Merry,” Pippin said, sounding sincere enough at this point. “Since you’ve turned thirty you’ve become so tired all of the time and quite boring. It pains me to watch you go down hill at such a rate. I did hope that you had a few more good years left.” Pippin sighed deeply and looked up at the tree limbs above. “It makes me dreadfully sad.”

“Ignore him,” Merry said, to Frodo. “Maybe he will take the hint and go away.”

Pippin fell silent for a few minutes and then just as both of his older cousins had begun to think that he had given up, Pippin spoke again. “Why don’t we walk into Hobbiton and get some fresh rolls? They bake them today and it would make a nice walk. We could eat the rolls on the way back up here.”

“We are here now,” Frodo said. “Besides, I am quite full from luncheon.”

“You would walk a bit of it off and have plenty of room for the rolls by the time we got into Hobbiton,” Pippin said, brightly.

“I don’t want to walk all of that way in this heat for rolls,” Merry groused. “Besides those rolls are never quite as good as the ones that Sam makes.”

“Well, no they aren’t that good,” Pippin admitted. “But Sam is away this week and so he shant be making us any rolls at all. We might do well to go into town and get them this time if we want any.”

“Oh,” Pippin said. He waited a half a second and then said, “We could see if the candy apple cart is in there today. It would be a nice way to fill up the corners, wouldn’t it?”

“Well, you don’t have to be so very hostile about it all,” Pippin said. “If you don’t want candy apples then you merely need to say so. You don’t have to shout. One might think that neither of you had any manners at all.”

“Yes, well, speaking of manners,” Frodo sighed. “It is very impolite to keep others awake when they are trying to sleep. I might also question your manners on this point.”

“I am just trying to keep the two of you from wasting this lovely day,” Pippin scowled. “There are so many things that we might be doing if the two of you weren’t so busy complaining about the heat and napping like two old gaffers.”

“No one has been able to nap thus far,” Frodo said, irritation plain in his tone.

“I do hope that I don’t become old and brittle when I reach your age,” Pippin frowned.

“I suspect that one of us will kill you before you reach Frodo’s age,” Merry muttered.

“I mean seriously,” Pippin said. “I shouldn’t want to be boring and tired all of the time like you two are. Poor Frodo is only forty-four years old and all ready all of the life has gone out of him. And you, Meriadoc are nearly as bad. I never thought that becoming thirty would do this to you. I really do hope that I am never so old and cranky as the pair of you are.”

Frodo and Merry exchanged looks behind Pippin’s back. Their younger cousin was sitting up and leaning his chin on his knees while he spoke. Pippin stared out at the lovely little pond and sighed deeply. “It didn’t used to be like this. I miss the way both of you were back when you were young and cheerful.”

Merry grinned over at Frodo as Pippin continued. “I never thought that I would say this, but the two of you are boring. That’s right! You’re boring and completely uninteresting. You’re like a couple of old cows in a field. You’d like nothing better than to just lay down and sleep the day away under a shade tree. In fact I suspect that you wouldn’t even bother to swish your tails and drive the flies away.”

Frodo grinned back at Merry, his eyes sparkling with mischief as Pippin went on with his string of rather insulting observations. “No, sadly both of my favorite cousins have become dull in their older years,” Pippin said. “I do hope that I shall have longer before I become a hopeless bore. I used to think that being older would be wonderful but now I am ever so glad that I still have my youth and am still interesting.”

“That’s it!” Merry said and in one swift motion he reached over and grabbed both of Pippin’s wrists.

“Merry! What are you doing?” Pippin demanded. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he realized that Frodo now had a firm grip on each of his ankles. Pippin squirmed a bit but his cousins held fast. “Frodo, what are you doing? Let go!”

Merry laughed a bit wickedly. “What’s the matter, Pippin? Don’t tell me that us two rather boring old hobbits have surprised a young intelligent lad like yourself. That isn’t possible is it?”

“Merry, quite teasing me,” Pippin said, trying to break free of both cousins and failing.

The two older hobbits stood up with Pippin suspended between them and Frodo said, “You know, Merry?”

Frodo ignored him and answered Merry. “I think that it is a shame that it is so very hot out here today, don’t you?”

“No!” Pippin yelled. “Frodo you wouldn’t! These are my best trousers! My mum will kill me if I ruin these!”

“What’s that Pippin?” Frodo asked. “You have to speak up a bit. At my age, I’m a bit hard of hearing.”

“No, Merry, you know what my mum will do to me if I ruin these trousers?” Pippin pleaded. “She told me that if I ruined any more of my clothes that she would make me wear Pervinca’s hand-me-downs!”

Frodo and Merry moved closer to the little pond still holding Pippin between them and swinging him back and forth ever so slightly as they went.

“I’m sorry, all right?” Pippin said, quickly. “I didn’t mean that you were boring, honestly I didn’t!”

“I like cows! I meant it as a compliment!” Pippin said. “They are very gentle animals and very intelligent.”

“You called us old cows that wouldn’t even bother to swish the flies off of themselves,” Merry continued as they swung Pippin a bit higher in the air.

“Please?” Pippin begged. “Put me down and I promise that I’ll behave.”

Both older cousins laughed and Frodo said, “I do believe that I have heard that one before, Peregrin. In fact, I may have fallen for that ruse several times, but now that I am old and boring I don’t have time for that sort of foolishness.”

“You aren’t old, Frodo!” Pippin yelled as they swung him higher. They were standing next to the pond now and when they swung him out into the air, Pippin could look down at the water. “Don’t do this!”

“Can’t hear you, Pip,” Merry said with a laugh. “I’ve become too dull to listen to much of anything. It is strange though, my bones are hardly creaking at all even though I am moving about a great deal just now.”

Frodo and Merry stood on the bank and watched as Pippin hit the water with a rather loud splash and landed somewhere near the middle of the pond. They stood there laughing as Pippin sat up, water dripping down his nose and soaking wet hair hanging in his eyes. They continued to laugh even harder. "Ah, to be young and interesting again," Frodo smirked.

Pippin got to his feet and began to head for the bank with a fierce look in his eyes. “Now you are both in trouble!”

This made Merry laugh even harder right up until the mud hit him in the side of the face. Merry looked at Pippin with complete surprise and now Frodo was the only one laughing. “I am going to kill you when you reach the bank, Pippin!” Merry said. “If I were you, I’d stay right there in the middle of that pond with the other toads until I croaked because the minute that you reach the shore, I am going to toss you right back into the pond!”

“Try it!” Pippin said, flinging another handful of mud and hitting Merry’s waistcoat.

Merry was livid now. His grey eyes narrowed dangerously and he clenched his fists while Frodo continued to laugh. Frodo laughed right up until Pippin aimed a hand full of pond mud at him and hit Frodo right in the mouth. Both older cousins exchanged looks and then began to wade out into the pond.

Pippin backed up a step and sat down hard on the bottom of the pond. He quickly filled his hands with mud again and got in two quick throws striking Merry in the chest and Frodo in the face again, before they reached him. “You want to play in the mud, Peregrin Took?” Frodo shouted, and with that he bent down and grabbed a hand full of mud and rubbed it into Pippin’s hair. Pippin kicked him in the chest and that is when Merry shoved Pippin under the water several times.

Two little lads watched from the other side of the pond as the three cousins wrestled about in the water flinging mud at one another and dunking each other. “What are they doing?’ the smaller one whispered.

“I think that they’re fighting, Nipper,” the older one said, whispering also.

“What do you suppose it’s about?” Nipper asked as he watched one of the hobbits in the pond pick up another one and toss him.

“Don’t know,” the older one responded. “Could be nearly anything I suppose.”

The little lad looked down at the bucket in his hand and frowned. “I don’t suppose that we will be able to catch any frogs at all today will we, Hal?”

“Not with all the stirring about that they’re doing,” Hal agreed. “I suspect that they will have scared off all of the good ones.”

Three other lads joined them and looked out at the fight that was still continuing out in the pond. The smallest of them announced, “We ought not to get too close.”

“That one in the middle there what just rubbed mud in the little one’s face?”

“That there is ‘mad Baggins’ and they say he ain’t right in the head.”

“I heard tell that his uncle was a crack-pot, but I never heard it of him,” Hal said. “Are you sure that’s a Baggins?”

“Hard to tell with all the mud, but I’m pretty sure,” the lad replied. “Anyway, if it is then he’s a real nutter according to my papa and we shouldn’t go about him.” The five lads looked on as Merry took off his own waistcoat, rolled it up tightly and then smacked Pippin on the back with it.

“What if they do?” Nipper asked, looking up at Hal who only shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what they should do in a situation like that.

“If they do, then we run like the wind till we find a shirriff,” one of the others said. “We don’t want to get mixed up in no killing.”

Just as Frodo was pulling a cussing Pippin out of the water by his hair, Merry spotted the lads on the far bank. “Frodo,” Merry hissed.

“What?” Frodo said, still holding onto Pippin’s hair while Pippin continued to call his older cousins names that would have shocked half of Hobbiton.

Merry tapped Frodo on the shoulder and pointed to the bank. Frodo looked over at the lads and quickly covered Pippin’s mouth with his hand. “Hush up, we have an audience.”

Pippin looked toward the bank at the lads and Frodo let go of him. The three combatants stood there in the middle of the frog pond, dripping wet and covered with mud and looked at the group of youngsters now gathered on the bank. There were at least eleven of them now and all of them were looking out into the pond with a mixture of confusion and fear. Pippin raised a hand and waved, pasting a big smile on his face and Merry and Frodo quickly followed suite. The effect was not the one that they had been hoping for. From the bank there came a shout, “Run! They’ve seen us!” and the entire group of lads took off as fast as their legs would carry them.

Frodo, Merry and Pippin exchanged puzzled looks. “What do you suppose was the matter with them?” Pippin asked.

Merry sighed and shook his damp curls. “I guess I am getting old. I just don’t understand children anymore.”

Happy belated birthday wishes to Dreamflower who requested this tale.
(Pippin is 15, Merry is 23, Berilac is 24 and Fredegar is 25)

“See you later, Merry,” Fredegar heard Pippin say with a rather forced smile on his face. As Fredegar looked up from his plate, Merry returned Pippin’s smile with a genuine one and patted his younger cousin on the head as he left the dining hall with Berilac. Pippin watched them go as if studying them so that he might report their actions later. From his seat at the far end of the table Fredegar watched the young Took and wondered what was going on now.

This summer something had been going on nearly every minute. There had been an uncommon amount of pranks and everyone had looked foolish at some point. Pippin was just recovering from the prank that Merry had pulled on him two weeks earlier. Fredegar had been surprised to see that Pippin had yet to try and even the score. After all, Pippin had been stung by a great many bees as a result of Merry‘s last prank. If Fredegar had been the victim of that sort of trick he would have wasted no time. He would have got revenge long before now. He watched as Pippin sat back down at the table and nervously folded and unfolded his serviette.

Perhaps there was a chance to get a bit of information with everyone else gone for the moment. Fredegar got up from his seat and walked over to Pippin. The lad’s plate was rather full for a young hobbit nearing the end of his dinner. Fredegar almost felt guilty about what he was planning to do. Well, almost, but not quite. It was a wise course of action to stay one step ahead of everyone involved in these pranks and the best way to stay ahead of the game was to have plenty of information.

Pippin was the youngest one involved in the pranks and that made him a good source of information. The fifteen-year-old loved to chatter and he was also quite trusting. Fredegar lowered himself into the seat next to Pippin and put a hand on the younger hobbit’s shoulder. “You look worried about something, Pippin,” he said.

Pippin turned around looking surprised to see Fredegar. “Oh, no, not really,” Pippin managed, still twisting the serviette in his hands.

“Well, maybe just a wee bit,” Pippin sighed. “It’ll be fine though.” Pippin looked back toward direction in which Merry had gone and sighed deeply.

“No,” Pippin said too quickly. He twisted the serviette into a ball and squeezed it tightly in his fist.

“Well, I can’t be sure,” Pippin frowned. “It is Merry after all and he is very clever about this sort of thing so there is a chance that he might have done something.”

“What is it that you think he might have done?” Fredegar asked, leaning toward Pippin as if trying to keep everything between the two of them. He did realize that there was little need for this as no one else was in the dinning hall except himself and Pippin. Still it gave the proper look of conspiracy between them and that would help things along. Pippin had to believe that he wanted to help or he would get no information.

“Well,” Pippin frowned. “Can I trust you, Freddy?” His green eyes looked up into Fredegar’s face. Fredegar was nearly tempted to forget the entire thing now because the little hobbit looked so worried but Fredegar knew that any weakness on his part would make him the next victim. He didn’t want to be the one left holding the bag when the next prank was played and so everything, even taking advantage of a naive younger cousin, was fair.

Fredegar shifted a bit in his seat so that he was facing Pippin rather than the table and said in what he hoped was an earnest tone, “Of course you can trust me, Pippin. Frankly, I thought that last prank of Merry’s was a bit out of line. If I can help you in any way, all you have to do is ask.”

“You can depend upon me,” Fredegar smiled. “Now, why don’t you begin by telling me what has you so worried.”

“I think Merry is planning something,” Pippin said. “I don’t know what but I think it must be something big because he is ever so close just lately. He keeps things from me and he and Berilac keep going off together. I caught them whispering together last night in the main parlor but when I came into the room they got very quiet and Berilac made up an excuse and left the room.” Pippin sighed. “I think Merry is planning to prank me again before I have even managed to get revenge on him for that business with the molasses.” Pippin blushed a bit as he mentioned the molasses and Fredegar understood completely. If he had been caught out of doors in his short clothes coated in molasses he most definitely would have blushed also.

“The lasses still giggle at me when they walk past,” Pippin mumbled lowering his eyes. “I may never live it all down. Now, I think Merry is going to do something else to me but I don’t know what it is.”

“Are you sure that he and Berilac aren’t plotting against someone else, like me, perhaps?” Fredegar asked. It was a nice touch to make it seem as if he was also worried about reprisals. It gave him more in common with Pippin. “Did you overhear anything at all that makes you certain that it is you?

“No,” Pippin said. “But Merry has some sort of secret and I’m worried. I keep looking behind me when there isn’t anyone there at all and jumping at loud noises. I’m afraid to go to sleep at night, Freddy. What if Merry puts me outside again in my short clothes or less.” Pippin shivered at the thought. He looked down at his plate and sighed. “I can’t even eat.”

“Why don’t you let me ask Merry a question or two for you?” Fredegar offered. As a sort of a go between he could keep an eye on things without letting on that he was doing so for his own safety. Fredegar often did this sort of thing. So far, no one had caught him and it had worked quite nicely. Everyone trusted him and very few of the others even tried to prank him. They all thought that he was on their side. Pippin’s paranoia was the answer to all of his problems. It gave him a reason to ask Merry a few questions without making it seem as if he were worried. His questions would be on Pippin’s behalf. “I could ask a few innocent questions without arousing Merry’s suspicions and let you know what I find out.”

“Well, I did sort of trick you out of three shire pennies on that one prank with the box,” Pippin said.

“You did but it was worth it to see how well you fooled Merry,” Fredegar chuckled. He had actually put Pippin up to that and the price of three pennies was well worth it. Merry seldom got tricked properly because Merry always seemed to know what was coming. Fredegar had taken full advantage of Merry’s trust where Pippin was concerned. It had been quite brilliant. Pippin actually thought that the entire thing was his own idea and Merry believed that Pippin had pulled the prank without any help. The fact that Pippin had taken three of Fredegar’s pennies in the bargain only helped Fredegar to keep up appearances. Fredegar had looked like a victim also.

“Are you all right, Freddy?” Pippin asked shaking Fredegar out of his mental back patting session and back to the task at hand.

“I was just thinking is all,” Fredegar said. “That trick with the box was quite good but also no one was hurt. Merry’s trick didn’t exactly keep everyone from getting hurt did it?”

Pippin flinched a bit. “Merry didn’t mean to hurt me. That part was an accident,” Pippin said. The little hobbit was always quick to defend Merry. Fredegar knew at once that he had best change his tactics a bit or he would lose Pippin’s trust.

“Of course he didn’t,” Fredegar said. “All the same, no one would blame you for getting even.”

“I could help you with that too if you want,” Fredegar said. His luck was simply too good today. He might actually wind up knowing Pippin’s plans as well as Merry’s before the day was out.

“I might tell you when I have it a bit more sorted out,” Pippin said dashing Fredegar’s hopes a bit. “It would help me to know what Merry is planning. If he is planning on pranking someone else then he won’t be thinking about me and it will make my plan easier but if Merry is planning a trick on me then I might need to come up with something different. Everything depends on what Merry does.”

That made sense. That was the only thing that made Fredegar a tiny bit nervous. Pippin Took almost never made that much sense about anything. The lad’s mind just didn’t work in logical ways. Pippin’s thoughts usually shot out in all directions and it was like being caught in the middle of a hale storm when the Took got started but just now, Pippin was thinking like a Brandybuck. Fredegar wondered if this child was setting him up. Could Merry be behind this.

“See if Merry does something to me before I do something to him then the something that I am planning to do will be spoiled,” Pippin said rapidly. “If I do my something first then Merry might think again before he does his something and if Merry is doing something to someone else then what I am doing to Merry might spoil Merry’s plan and I don’t want to do that. Do you see?”

Fredegar sighed with relief. Now that was the sort of thought process that he was used to from Pippin. ‘Fredegar old fellow, you are getting entirely too nervous in your old age,’ he said to himself.

“I said, don’t worry,” Fredegar smiled. “I will find out a thing or two for you. It will be our secret.”

Pippin stood and fished three Shire pennies out of his pocket. He laid them on the table in front of Fredegar. “Here is the money that I won from you,” Pippin said.

“I still want you to have it,” Pippin said. “I feel better all ready knowing that you are going to help me find out what Merry is up to.” Pippin took a roll off of his plate and left the room.

Fredegar had gone slow with it all. He had bided his time. He and Merry and Berilac had all had a pipe together out under the shade trees near the stables and talked about ponies and lasses and the usual sorts of things that lads talk about when they are together. In fact, they had been talking for nearly two hours when Berilac got up to leave. “I have to be getting in now,” Berilac said. “I promised my father a game of chess and I plan to beat him this time.”

“Just you wait,” Berilac said with a rather wicked grin. “I’ll beat him and then you and I shall have a little game. I plan to teach you some manners before the summer is over, little cousin.”

“That isn’t going to happen,” Merry laughed as Berilac walked back toward the Hall

Now Merry was frowning. He turned to Fredegar and said, “Sounds to me as if Berilac is up to something.”

Fredegar squinted and watched Berilac turn the corner and go out of sight. “Sounds to me as if he plans to beat you at chess,” Fredegar said.

“No, it’s more than that,” Merry said firmly. “I can tell when he is up to something. He has a plan and that little jest about beating me at chess is his way of dropping a hint.”

“Do you think so?” Fredegar asked. It seemed as if Pippin wasn’t the only hobbit that was worried about the plans of others just now.

“I know it!” Merry said hitting his palm with his fist. “I’ve been watching him and keeping close to him. I know that he means to catch me off my guard but that is not going to happen, Freddy.”

“You’ll see if when everyone else does and it will be splendid,” Merry gloated. “I have it all figured out. Berilac won’t know what hit him.”

“Pippin?” Merry frowned. “Why would you think that I was planning to do something to Pip?”

“He thinks that you and Berilac are plotting against him,” Fredegar said. “He told me so himself.”

“I wasn’t planning anything at all with Berilac,” Merry said. “I can’t trust him. There are very few hobbits that I can trust in all of this. I’ve been too successful with my pranks this summer and so naturally most of them are jealous and want a chance to get even with me. Berilac wants to get even in the worst sort of way. To tell you the truth, I haven’t given a thought to Pip. He’s just imagining things.”

“All the same,” Fredegar sighed. “His imagine has put the idea into that little head of his and now he might be up to something.”

Fredegar watched him closely and then said, “Aren’t you worried?”“About Pippin?”

Merry scoffed. “Of course not. Berilac is dangerous but Pippin is just under foot in all of this.”

“He did get you once,” Fredegar reminded Merry. He had the feeling that it might keep Merry from thinking too much about him if he kept him busy with suspicions about Pippin. Merry was already working on pranking Berilac but it wouldn’t hurt to have him busy with Pippin also. There were only three weeks left of Fredegar’s visit to Brandy Hall and if he was clever then he could keep from falling victim to an embarrassing prank. It was all in misdirecting Merry’s thoughts slightly. “He made you look a bit silly with that box trick.”

Merry frowned. “That was just luck. He’d never manage to pull anything proper off. I can always see right through him. He can’t fool me.”

“Are you trying to say that I can’t outwit my baby cousin?” Merry frowned, eyes narrowed. Fredegar would have to go carefully now. It was never wise to give Merry the impression that you doubted his abilities in any area. Merry was very prideful at times.

“Of course not,” Fredegar said. “Pippin might get in your way though. He might ruin your trick on Berilac without meaning to do so.” Fredegar watched as Merry thought this over. Fredegar could see a trace of worry in Merry’s eyes and he knew that he had hooked him so he continued. Strike while the iron is hot. “It’s like you said before, Merry-lad. Pippin is underfoot in all of this. He’s too young and trusting to be a real threat but he could get in the way; become a sort of spoiler if you will.”

“Well what am I supposed to do about that?” Merry asked looking frustrated. “I can’t watch Pippin and trick Berilac at the same time. I’m good but I am not that good.”

Fredegar watched Merry pacing up and down and waited. He waited because he knew what was coming. Fredegar had him right where he wanted him now. It was only a matter of time until the idea came to Merry. This was really almost too easy.

Merry turned and grinned at Fredegar. “How would you like to do me a favor, Freddy?” Merry wrapped an arm around Fredegar’s shoulders. “How would you like to keep an eye on Pippin for me for a few days?”

“I don’t know about that, Merry,” Fredegar frowned. “Pippin can be a handful.”

“Just watch him for me and see to it that he doesn’t get in my way,” Merry said.

“That won’t be easy,” Fredegar said. He hoped that he sounded reluctant enough. Merry was very hard to fool about anything. His hesitation had to seem genuine.

“Tell you what,” Merry said. “If you’ll look out for Pippin then when Frodo arrives, the three of us will spend a week fishing and forget all about these silly pranks. It will just be the three of us, the fish and the Brandywine.”

Fredegar liked the sound of that. He was tired of all of the stress and the deception. It would be lovely to spend a bit of time relaxing and know that he didn’t have to worry that something was about to happen. “Well, since you put it like that, I suppose that I can baby-mind for a few days,” Fredegar grinned. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just stay with Pippin,” Merry said. “Make him think that you are helping him with whatever his plans might be or that you are protecting him by acting as a lookout for me. Find out what the little imp is up to and let me know, but keep Pippin believing that you are helping him rather than me.”

“He might buy that,” Fredegar agreed knowing that Pippin already did buy that. He wasn’t about to let Merry in on it though. Now he would have Pippin’s gratitude and Merry’s and he would also have a nice, quiet week of fishing once Frodo arrived. All he had to do was continue to play Merry and Pippin off against each other and Merry would keep Berilac busy. The rest of the lads involved in this summer’s mischief were no threat to Fredegar. Merry and Berilac were the real dangerous ones. If those two were at one another’s throats then Fredegar had nothing to worry about. He would also have Pippin as an excuse for not involving himself in anything further. Fredegar smiled broadly. He was going to get through the summer after all.

Pippin was practically jumping up and down with excitement. “You mean it is Berilac and not me?” he said in a very high voice. “Merry is going to prank Berilac?”

“He is, but you can’t tell that around,” Fredegar said hoping that no one was within a mile of the path that he and Pippin were walking on now. Pippin’s voice tended to carry when he was excited and Fredegar couldn’t have it get back to Merry that he had told Pippin about any of this. “I am only telling you this so that you won’t worry. I am not telling you this so that you can warn Berilac.”

“Oh, I would never do that,” Pippin said still speaking far too loudly. “I owe Berilac for the bees as well. If Merry gets him then I will enjoy that.”

“Keep your voice down, Pippin or Berilac might find out about it all,” Fredegar hissed.

“Oiy,” Pippin whispered. “Sorry but it is just such a relief to know that Merry isn’t pranking me this time. Now maybe I can sleep properly.”

“I should say that you can,” Fredegar smiled. “You can also proceed with your own plan for pranking Merry.”

“Now is the perfect time,” Fredegar said. “Merry won’t be expecting it. He will be busy working on his own plan. You will have the advantage.”

“Still, I don’t want to spoil Merry’s prank,” Pippin said. “I should like to see Berilac embarrassed. He is still teasing me and Merry has stopped.”

“If I were you, I’d strike while the iron is hot,” Fredegar said using one of his favorite expressions. “Besides, Merry isn’t worried about you in the least. I’m afraid that he doesn’t consider you to be much of a threat.”

Pippin stopped on the path and stared at Fredegar for a minute. “How do you know that?”

“Merry told me that himself,” Fredegar said. “He under-estimates you, Pippin-lad. He thinks that he knows you far too well to be fooled by anything that you might come up with. Your age also works against you.” Fredegar knew that this was a sore spot for Pippin. The little Took didn’t like to be thought of as a child. He liked to consider himself on even ground with the older lads. Fredegar was sure that he was hitting all the nails on the head in this matter. Pippin was bound to react to this.

Fredegar smiled. You just had to know the right thing to say and he had to admit that he, Fredegar Bolger, was a very clever hobbit. He had them both right where he wanted them and Merry had Berilac. Everything was tied up in a nice, neat, little package. There would be no chance of mischief now. Fredegar had managed to render himself prank-proof!

“Merry, he is planning to fill your room with all of the goats that he can possibly fit into it,” Fredegar said as the two of them stood alone in the main parlor between first and second breakfast the next morning.

“Goats,” Fredegar said. “Pippin is planning to fill your room with goats and he is planning to do it tomorrow while you are in Buckland waiting for Frodo to arrive.”

Merry chuckled. “That’s fairly clever of him. I will be in town and so there is no chance that I will be able to surprise him and catch him in the act. I see that the Pip Squeak has learned a trick or two over the summer.” Merry chuckled again. “Goats!”

“Aren’t you upset?” Fredegar asked. He really couldn’t see why Merry was so amused by all of this. It was true that Merry did tend to be proud of Pippin’s mischievous streak but this mischief was aimed at Merry and so Fredegar didn’t understand why Merry was laughing it off.

“The little squirt will never manage it,” Merry grinned. “You do see that, don’t you?”

“Well, I’m not completely sure that I do, Merry,” Fredegar frowned. It was very possible that Pippin might manage to put a goat or two into Merry’s room. The lad did seem to have thought it all out. “He might not manage to put an entire herd into your room but he might still manage to put two or three goats in your room and even one goat might do quite a bit of damage.”

“My mum will catch him and that will be his reward for this plan,” Merry grinned.

“Tomorrow is the day that she is spending at the Maggot place,” Fredegar reminded Merry.

“That is tomorrow isn’t it,” Merry said. “I had forgotten all about that. Mum and Mrs. Maggot are going to start some sort of a sewing circle tomorrow and so she will be gone all day organizing it.”

Fredegar nodded. “And you and your father will both be in Buckleberry waiting on Frodo’s arrival. Pippin will have plenty of opportunity to attempt his trick with the goats.”

Merry scowled. Then his face brightened. “No, he won’t because he will be with me.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” Merry frowned. “Of course you can. What else could you possibly have to do?”

“I do things,” Pippin said in an insulted tone. “I do lots of things and I am going to be doing something tomorrow so I can’t come with you.”

Fredegar watched the two cousins closely. He was very surprised to hear Pippin turn down Merry’s invitation. He was not as surprised as Merry was though. That was very plain. It was a bit amusing to see Merry’s ego get slightly bruised but it did still leave the problem of what to do about Pippin’s plan.

Merry snorted. “Look, you won’t be in the way. Frodo will be glad to see that you’ve come along. I am sure that he expects it anyway. You always come along.”

“Well, I am not coming along tomorrow,” Pippin said folding his arms over his chest.

“Then what are you doing tomorrow?” Merry said, leaning down and putting his face inches from Pippin’s. “What are you up to now?”

“I promised Tucker that I would look after the herds tomorrow so that he could visit with his sister,” Pippin said.

Pippin leaned forward toward Merry and said, “You can check for yourself. I told Tucker that I would watch the goats while he visited with his sister. He’ll tell you that’s so if you ask him and I am not going to break my word to Tucker.”

“What does Doc say about this?” Merry frowned, standing back up and using his height for effect. “I mean you are only fifteen and we do have quite a large herd of goats. Maybe Doc doesn’t think that you are up to watching them at your age.”

Pippin glared up at Merry. “Uncle Doc thought that it was a fine idea! I live on a farm remember? I have herded goats before and sheep as well. Uncle Doc said that it was very nice of me to offer to help Tucker because there won’t be anyone else here to do it.”

Why that little imp! Pippin had Merry in a spot now. Pippin not only had permission to stay at the Hall tomorrow but he also had leave from the Master of Buckland to watch over the goats; the very goats that Pippin planned to put into Merry’s room. Fredegar couldn’t help but be impressed. He watched as Merry sputtered and turned a rather nasty shade of red. “Fine! Herd goats all you like,” Merry said in a dismissive tone. “But don’t expect to spend any time with me or with Frodo once he arrives. We will be busy doing things that you simply aren’t old enough for.”

Now Pippin was red in the face. Merry patted his younger cousin on the head and walked out of the room. “Have a nice time with those smelly old goats Pip,” Merry said as he left.

Fredegar had to endure several hours of Pippin’s planning. Pippin had a route through the Hall to Merry’s bedroom mapped out. He had some rope for leading the goats through the Hall and he had lots of instructions for Fredegar about distractions and about being a proper lookout.

“But Merry, I am supposed to be the lookout,” Fredegar had explained as he sat by the fire in Merry’s room very late that evening. It had taken him quite a while to get rid of Pippin and he had come straight to Merry’s room as soon as that had been accomplished.

Merry paced up and down in front of Fredegar’s chair. “You’ll just have to see to it that Pippin isn’t able to do what he plans to do,” Merry said briskly. “Trip him up.”

“Well, yes,” Fredegar said nervously. He most definitely did not want to be the lookout on this caper. Pippin was planning to lead goats through Brandy Hall. The job of lookout was likely to get Fredegar into trouble when Pippin was caught traipsing about with several goats in tow. Fredegar was counting on Merry for a far better solution than the one that seemed to be coming about. “I don’t see how that helps matters.”

“It’s simple really,” Merry grinned. “Pippin will lead the goats into my room and you will stand guard, right?”

“If I understand Pippin’s instructions then yes, I will be standing in the hallway outside of your room watching so that no one goes in and discovers the goats,” Fredegar said.

“All you have to do is wait until Pippin puts a goat into the room and then while he is out getting another goat you let the one that he has just put into the room out through the window in here,” Merry snickered. “Pippin will think that he is filling my room with goats and what he will actually be doing is wasting an afternoon.”

“You expect me to push goats out a window?” Fredegar asked wide-eyed at the very notion.

“You won’t have to push them,” Merry laughed. “The windows in here are very low to the ground. I have those two large ones over there that are practically doors. They are barely three inches from the floor and they go nearly to where the ceiling begins. All you will have to do is lead them out the window.”

Fredegar looked at the two windows in question. They were large enough for this idea and they were certainly low enough to the floor so that it would be no problem for a goat to step over the sill and out, but Fredegar had not counted on doing this much work just to stay out of trouble. “What if Pippin notices?” Fredegar frowned. “When he brings each new goat into the room the previous one will already be gone. How do I explain that?”

“Merry, Pippin is certainly bright enough to know that one and one make two,” Fredegar sighed. “If he leaves one goat in here and brings in a second one then he is going to expect to have two goats in this room.” Why was Merry having trouble with this? It was simple logic and Merry had always excelled at logic.

“You don’t let him look into the room, cousin,” Merry said putting a hand on each chair arm and leaning over Fredegar. “You offer to put the goats into the room for him while he gets the next one. Tell him it will go faster that way. It looks as if you are helping him out by doing more than just guarding the door when really you will be helping me out.”

“He will simply think that you were a bit dim and forgot to consider that the window was wide open,” Merry smiled. “He certainly can’t blame you if the goats all go out the window can he?”

Fredegar chuckled. “No, he can’t! It will look as if I was doing my best to help out but that I was simply careless!”

The day dawned and Pippin was already out in the meadow with the goat herd when Fredegar woke up. Pippin had gone out early to take charge of the herd from Tucker, the Brandybuck’s regular goat herder, so that Tucker could leave to visit his sister for the day. As Fredegar emerged from the Hall with a basket containing Pippin’s second breakfast which he had offered, per Pippin’s plan, to bring to the lad, Merry and Saradoc Brandybuck were just leaving for Buckleberry to meet Frodo. Merry waved at Fredegar and Fredegar was sure that he saw Merry wink at him.

Fredegar sighed deeply. He may have been worried for no reason at all. As he stood near the rear entrance to the Hall and did his job as Pippin’s lookout he could see very little progress. Pippin had put a rope around one of the larger goat’s neck and was tugging with all of his might to try and get the stubborn goat to move. It was quite a test of wills; the stubborn goat against the stubborn Took. Fredegar chuckled. He might not have to shove a single goat out of Merry’s window if things didn’t improve for Pippin. The Took was not managing to make the goat budge from its spot in the meadow. Fredegar’s luck seemed to be holding.

It didn’t hold for long though. Pippin managed to get the goat motivated by waving a bite of bread in front of it and the goat was quickly at the rear entrance to the Hall. Before Fredegar could gather his wits, he was holding the door open for Pippin so that the child could lead the first of the goats into the Hall. “Walk in front of me and watch for anyone that might come down the hall,” Pippin instructed. “And Freddy?”

Yes, pretend that no one is leading a goat on a rope just behind you. If this worked properly then Merry was going to owe him a great deal. He even thought of turning around and telling Pippin that Merry was on to the entire business but he could think of no way to do that without revealing his part in it all. No, he would have to suffer through this one if he hoped to keep himself out of trouble with both cousins.

“You’d do that?” Pippin asked and Fredegar could recall the first time Pippin had been surprised by one of his offers. That had been when he had offered to speak to Merry to see if he could find out what Merry might be plotting. Fredegar wished, at this moment, that he had never made the original offer.

“Yes, Pippin,” Fredegar heard himself saying. “It will go quicker this way. I will put the goat into the room and then stand guard while you hurry out and get another one.”

Pippin sighed. “It is very nice of you, but I don’t want you to get into any trouble, Freddy,” Pippin said. “If you do this and Merry catches us then you will be in trouble too the same as me.”

“All the same, Freddy,” Pippin said. “This business of herding goats is difficult if you’ve not done it a ‘fore. I really do thank you for wanting to help me but you’ve helped enough already.” With that Pippin pushed past him and into Merry’s room with the goat. This was not going according to Merry’s plan. If Fredegar didn’t think of something then Merry’s room really would be filled with goats when Merry returned.

Pippin popped back out and looked down the hallway in each direction and then sighed. “We were nearly in trouble, Freddy,” Pippin whispered. “Merry left his window open. Can you imagine what might have happened if I hadn’t noticed it and shut the window? All of the goats might have got out again. I would have been herding goats in here all day for no reason at all.”

“I did,” Pippin grinned. “I’m off to fetch another goat. Keep a watch.” With that, Pippin disappeared down the hall leaving Fredegar in front of Merry’s door with a very big problem.

Fredegar paced about the hallway in front of the door and then finally made up his mind about it all. He would run out of time if he didn’t do something quickly. Now that Pippin had started using bits of bread as a lure for the goats the youngster would probably return in half of the time with another goat. Fredegar had to get rid of the first one. He would convince Pippin to let him help out once the lad returned.

Fredegar went into Merry’s room quickly and found that Pippin had indeed shut the window. The little scoundrel had even locked the window and drawn the curtains. The goat was simply standing in the middle of Merry’s room doing nothing so at least there was no damage yet. Fredegar quickly pulled back the curtains and unlatched the window. He raised it up as high as it would go and then called to the goat. “Here, nice goat,” Fredegar tired. “Go on outside. Here’s your chance at freedom goat. Best take it before it’s gone.”

The goat looked at Fredegar for a minute but didn’t move. Apparently goats have little interest in freedom. With a sigh, Fredegar walked over and began to try and push the goat toward the window. The goat had no interest in this activity either. Fredegar was sweating profusely when he heard Pippin returning with a second goat and so he quickly left the room. He had just closed the door behind himself when Pippin arrived with the next goat. “Where were you?” Pippin frowned.

“I thought I heard something in Merry’s room and so I went in to check,” Fredegar lied.

Fredegar was tempted to tell Pippin that the goat was definitely not stirring about. It wasn’t budging. He held his tongue on this and tried something else. “Pippin this is simply going to take too long if you are to get a proper amount of goats before everyone returns,” Fredegar said. “Why don’t you let me help you?”

“All we need are four or five goats,” Pippin grinned. “It only takes a few goats to make a mess of things.”

“Yes, but it would be so much more amusing if Merry opened the door and the entire room was loaded down with them.”

“Can’t you just see it?” Fredegar asked growing desperate. He couldn’t let Pippin find that window open in Merry’s room or his goose was cooked. “Merry opens the door, probably to invite Cousin Frodo in for a visit, and here are all of these goats. Goats everywhere! In fact so many of them that Merry can’t even get into the room. Pippin it will be glorious! The other lads will be so envious of your prank and everyone will realize that you aren’t a baby at all.”

“Of course I’m not a baby!” Pippin objected as if he’d not heard any of the rest of Fredegar’s speech.

“While we are standing here yammering, someone could come by and spoil it all,” Pippin said. “Do you have any idea what might happen if I’m caught out here with a goat on a rope?”

“Well, it is a very excellent prank if I do say so myself,” Pippin grinned. “All right. You can help.”

Fredegar heaved a sigh of relieve as Pippin left him with the goat. “You can just push it inside the room while I get another one,” Pippin said leaving quickly.

An hour or so later, Fredegar was looking a fright. He caught sight of himself in Merry’s mirror and gasped. His hair was sweat-soaked and plastered to his forehead. He had removed his jacket and the sweat stains underneath his arms had spread out and taken over his shirt. One of the goats had chewed on the hem of his trousers and had torn it a bit just at the bottom. His face was red and blotchy from trying to wrestle the goats out of the window. He had done too good a job of motivating Pippin. The lad was excitedly bring goat after goat into the Hall and no one was the wiser it seemed.

This last one had been very hard to get out of the window and there had been the extra work caused by one of the goats finding its way back inside of Merry’s room. Fredegar had been forced to remove that one a second time. He was tired. He was smelly. He was ready for this to end. Sadly, Pippin was just getting warmed up. Where did that lad get all of his energy? Would it never be time for Merry to return home?

“I trust you,” Pippin said. “I just want to see how it all looks.” The younger hobbit was trying to reach around Fredegar and pull the door to the room open.

“No, don’t you see?” Fredegar said in a rather breathless voice. “It will be ever so much better if you wait until Merry opens the door himself to see it.”

“What if I’m not here then?” Pippin frowned. “What if I miss it all and I don’t even get to see what all of my hard work has done?”

All of his hard work? Fredegar looked at the lad now and felt his anger rising a bit. Pippin looked as fresh as when they had begun this entire thing. His hair was a bit wind blown from his trips to the meadow and his face was slightly flushed but other than that, Pippin looked like he had done nothing more than take a brisk stroll. “Pippin it will spoil the surprise,” Fredegar tried.

“But I’m not the one who is supposed to be surprised, Merry is,” Pippin objected. “How can I be surprised about a thing that I did? I know that the room is full of goats. I led them in here. Of course the room is full of goats. It has to be unless you’ve been leading them back out again.”

Fredegar swallowed hard and tried to laugh. “That would be silly of me,” he managed.

Pippin laughed too. “Wouldn’t it? Now let me see the goats and see what all they’ve done to poor Merry’s room.”

Fredegar blocked the door and said, “I think you should get one more before you look.”

“One more?” Pippin frowned. “Aren’t you at all tired? I’m beginning to be a wee bit hungry and my feet are aching from all of the trips to the meadow. It’s a long walk down there. All you’ve had to do is stand here in front of the door, Freddy.”

Fredegar hoped that his face didn’t show what he was thinking at this moment. He had the urge to wrap his hands around Pippin’s neck and shake him. Just standing here? Pushing goats out of the room was hard work! He’d had several that had come back inside now and so he had shoved a couple of the evil, foul-smelling beasts out more than once. That had been the great drawback to the entire thing. He had to leave the window open and so some of the stupid animals were coming back in. Just standing here? “Pippin, you want this to be perfect don’t you?” Fredegar asked.

“I really think that you need at least one and maybe two more goats to do this thing properly,” Fredegar said still puffing hard from all of his exertion.

“They’re awful quiet in there,” Pippin frowned. “I should think that they’d be tramping about and chewing up things. I don’t hear them do you?”

“I hear them,” Fredegar lied. “They were making quite a noise just before you came and brought this one. I was afraid that someone else might hear them and come to investigate they were so loud.”

“Well, I don’t hear them at all now,” Pippin frowned. “Maybe I should just check up on them.”

Fredegar blocked the door again. “You just rile them up if you do and then we’ll be caught for sure.”

“Keep your voice down, Freddy,” Pippin hissed looking disapprovingly at him. “You aren’t very good at this, are you?” He patted Fredegar’s arm in sympathy and then said. “I’ll get one more but then I am having a look and we are quitting.”

“Fine,” Fredegar said between gritted teeth. He stood there and held the rope for the goat that Pippin had just brought and glared after the lad who was humming softly as he ambled back down the hallway toward the rear exit. After Pippin had gone out of the door Fredegar glared down at the latest goat. “Come on your worthless beast, in you go with the rest.” He was ready to open the door when he heard voices approaching. It was Merry.

He stood frozen as Merry came in the rear entrance. Fortunately Merry was alone at the moment. Merry hurried over to Fredegar and said, “Did you get all of the goats out of my room?”

“Yes,” Fredegar sighed. “Pippin is driving me crazy with all of this, Merry. You have to do some-“

“There isn’t any time, Freddy,” Merry interupted in a rush. “You have to get that goat out of here now. My father and Frodo are just a bit behind me. They stopped to talk to Berilac just a ways before the entrance but they will be here any minute.”

“Take it out that way and be quick,” Merry advised. He pointed down the hall away from the exit and Fredegar stared at him.

“You want me to take this one out the front way?” Fredegar asked wanting to be sure he’d heard correctly.

“Yes and you had better be quick and quiet if you don’t want to get caught,” Merry said in that same rushed, rather urgent tone. “Mum will be home soon and Doc and Frodo will be coming in that rear door at any moment.”

“I could take it through your window and you could stall them,” Freddy said feeling as if his knees were made of jelly. His stomach was doing flips. He couldn’t lead a goat out through the front of the Hall! Any number of folks might catch him. One of the serving maids or one of the many Brandybucks that lived here might see him. Merry was out of his mind!

“You can’t go through my room!” Merry shouted. “Frodo is coming straight into my room as soon as he gets inside. If you are in there shoving a goat out of the window how will that look?”

Fredegar had a wild look of fear in his eyes. He looked at the rear door. He looked at Merry. Finally he looked up the hallway to the front entrance and that was when he heard someone rattling the doorknob at the end of the hallway. Panic seized him and he pulled hard on the rope about the goat’s neck and pulled the animal down the hallway toward the main entrance. He didn’t dare look back. The only thought in his head was escaping. Well there was a fleeting desire to have Merry strung between two goats and pulled in half as each goat ran in a different direction, but he didn’t have time for pleasant thoughts right now. He had to get out of here before he was discovered with this goat!

It was Pippin’s high, nervous voice that Fredegar heard as he rounded the corner of the hallway and froze in front of the Master’s study. Pippin was walking fast to try and keep up with Saradoc Brandybuck. The two of them were approaching from the other end of the hallway. Fredegar frowned. Merry had said that Saradoc would be coming in the back entrance with Frodo. If that was so, then the Master was coming from the wrong direction. Saradoc would have had to of come in the front way. Pippin’s voice interrupted Fredegar’s reasoning. “I don’t know why he would do such a thing, Uncle Doc but Freddy has been thieving my goats all day long!”

Fredegar felt the blood drain out of his flushed, hot cheeks as he looked up to see the Master of Buckland, Saradoc Brandybuck glaring at him. Pippin’s voice assaulted his ears again at that moment. “See! He has my goat!” Pippin shouted and he pointed as accusing finger at Fredegar.

“So I see,” Saradoc said frowning at Fredegar. “You have some explaining to do, Fredegar.”

“I have some explaining to do?” Fredegar objected, looking wildly at Pippin. The little twerp was actually smiling at him from behind Saradoc’s back and saying, “How am I supposed to watch them if Fredegar keeps carting them off? I’ve spent the whole morning trying to find my goats!”

Merry, Berilac, and Frodo came up behind him at that moment and Merry’s voice asked, “What you got there, Freddy? Taking your pet for a stroll?”

“You’d have to ask him about it,” Pippin huffed. “I’ve been chasing about all over the place looking for them and that isn’t the only one that's missing!”

“His goats?” Frodo asked Merry. He was looking very confused. Fredegar might have sympathized with him but he had his own problems just now. The Master of Buckland was staring at him so hard that he felt as if there might be a hole forming in his head from the power of the gaze.

“What about it, Fredegar?” Saradoc asked hands on his hips and eyes narrowed. “Do you know anything about Pippin’s other goats?”

“Well, I-“ Fredegar stopped as a rather loud bang sounded from just inside of the Master’s study.

“It sounded as if something fell in the study,” Frodo said. He was still looking a bit confused but he seemed to be reasoning it all out if his expression was any indication. Frodo was sharp. Frodo also knew Merry extremely well.

“I wonder what it could have been?” Berilac asked. “There isn’t anyone in the study, is there?”

Fredegar was very sure that he knew exactly what it was. He watched as Saradoc pulled open the door to his study and was met by the sight of a small herd of goats wandering around the room nibbling on the furniture and doing such business as goats do right in the floor. For a second no one moved and then the Master of the Hall let out a very loud, very long, string of profanities. When Saradoc finally stopped to draw a breath, Berilac whistled and sighed, “That certainly is a lot of goats!”

“How ever did you manage that, Freddy?” Merry asked seemly impressed. Fredegar was spared from answering this one by Pippin who decided to milk the situation a bit.

“I tired my best, Uncle Doc,” Pippin said in a quavering voice that might have even convinced Fredegar if he hadn’t endured the worst day of his life with this little imp as his guide. “You aren’t angry at me for losing the goats are you?”

Saradoc was incapable of answering any questions at the moment and so Merry stepped in. “Of course he isn’t, Pip. This is very clearly not your fault. Anyone can see who the guilty party is this time. I’m afraid that poor Freddy is just covered with the scent of goats and leading one on a rope as well,” Merry said. “It really doesn’t look good for you, Freddy.” Merry winked.

“Pippin smells like goats too!” Fredegar objected. Frodo sighed and looked at Freddy in sympathy. At least someone knew that he’d been set up but it wouldn’t do him any good at all just now.

“He should,” Merry said in that logical way of his. “He has been herding them for Tucker all day.”

Saradoc drew a deep ragged breath and said, “Fredegar, I want these beasts out of my study! I don’t care how long it takes or what you have to do. I want every single goat out of my Hall!”

Fredegar wanted to protest this order but he didn’t dare. He knew that the others had him. There was no way out. Merry had been in Buckleberry with Saradoc all day so he had to assume that it had been Berilac who had put all of these goats into the Master’s study after Fredegar had herded them out of the window. Pippin might have actually had time to help Berilac with this when he was supposed to be running back down to the meadow to get another goat. This meant that the goats that had come back into Merry’s room a second time had been put into the room by Berilac. Fredegar looked around at his tormentors and then back into the study filled with goats. “I’ll just give this one to Pippin and start on the rest,” he sighed.

Pippin took the rope and then said, “You’re doing the right thing. You should strike while the iron is hot, Freddy. You taught me that.”

It was nearly a week later when the Master of the Hall assembled some twelve or so tweens and one teen in his freshly cleaned study. He stood before them and took the time to look at each one of them until they were very uncomfortable under his scrutiny. He paced up and down slowly before them and finally came to a halt in front of his large, oak desk. He cleaned his throat to make sure that he had their undivided attention. Fredegar waited along with the others.

“Lads, during this one impossibly long summer a great many things have happened,” Saradoc began. “I have been stung by bees, pelted with water, and had my study filled with goats just to name a few. Some of you have been tied to trees, had salt poured in your tea, found live things crawling around under your bed sheets, lost your spending money in poorly thought out wagers, and even been left outside in your short clothes and coated with molasses.” Here he took a moment to breathe while Pippin blushed and the others tried not to snicker.

“I don’t know how this began or what the point of it all has been, but I do know how and where it is going to end,” he said sternly. “It is going to end right now and right here in this room. This room in which upwards of thirty goats stood looking at me as I opened the door only a week ago. This room, which is my private office. This very room in which I conduct the business of Buckland. I hereby declare an end to pranks, jokes, tricks, wagers, and dares for the rest of the summer and I mean to have my declaration upheld. I am serving a warning on each and every one of you. If anyone is caught pulling any pranks then the guilty party will be forced to work in the kitchen for the remainder of the summer as the official dish-washer for the entire Hall.”

He watched them fidget for a minute and then he continued. “Not only will I uphold this punishment but I will encourage our cooks to make the messiest dishes that they know how to prepare and I will use a plate for every course served. I will bury the offender in cutlery and dishes and pots,” he said. “Any among you who doubt this are welcome to try me on it.” He walked behind the desk and unrolled a piece of parchment onto its surface. Fredegar wondered what might be about to happen now.

“Each of you will come up here and sign your names on this document. I suggest that you read it before you sign it. I know that none of you are old enough to be signing a legal document and so this is simply a formality. This document makes it known to all present that each of you attended this meeting and that each of you understand the consequences of further mayhem,” he looked at them and held out a quill. “Meriadoc, why don’t you go first?”

Merry swallowed and made his way to the desk. He read over the document, which basically stated what his father had already told them. He hesitated for a second and Saradoc leaned over and said, “I know that you had something to do with those goats. Don’t make me ask for an explanation.” Merry reluctantly signed his name. Berilac and Fredegar were next. Fredegar was more than happy to sign. He didn’t want revenge; he just wanted to be able to sleep at night without worrying about what might be done to him as he slept. The others all filed past and signed their names until Pippin, who was last in line, approached the desk.

Pippin looked down at the document and then up at his uncle. “Well?” Saradoc asked.

“Are you sure that this is legal? I’m not entirely sure that you can do this,” Pippin frowned.

“I can do it, Peregrin,” Saradoc said tapping Pippin on the end of his sharp nose. “I can also enforce it because I am the Master of Buckland and in Buckland the Master’s decision is law.”

“Not in Buckland unless we are at war,” Saradoc said firmly. “So unless you’d be happier under the rule of the Thain then you had better sign your name and follow the law of the land as set forth this day by the Master or I will personally deliver you to the Thain himself in your short clothes.”

Frodo was waiting outside of the study with several fishing poles in hand. “Well, would anyone care to join me for a day on the river bank?” he asked.

“That is my idea of a lovely day,” Fredegar said. He was more than happy about the Master’s decision regarding the pranks. A day of fishing sounded splendid to him.

Merry took a pole from Frodo and locked eyes with Fredegar. “No hard feelings?” Merry asked.

“None,” Fredegar smiled. “I suspect that I might have had it coming to me.”

Pippin blushed. “Well someone had to try,” he grinned. “Uncle Doc would have been disappointed if no one tried to talk him out of it.”

Fredegar did admire the lad’s spunk. He put an arm around Pippin’s shoulders and said, “Tell me, just how did all of those goats get into the Master’s study?” The two of them walked a bit in front of the rest and Fredegar listened as Pippin recounted the entire prank in glorious detail.

Dreamflower wanted a tale in which Merry and Pippin get even with Fredegar for past pranks. The other two stories that involve the summer pranks are :

Thanks to dreamflower for the plot bunny and to "Pooka" for insisting that it be written.

First, let me say that this one is a bit different from the others in this series because it is a bit suggestive in nature. I would rate it a PG-13, but that's just me. I wrote this some time ago as you will see by the date at the end of it but I decided to post it here with the others. It is about Merry and Pippin post quest at Crickhollow, but it is also about Merry and Estella. So a bit of romance and a bit of drama, and, I hope a bit of humor. If it looks familar to you, it is posted to my web page and was linked to Hobbit Het at one point. As always, thanks for reading! _ Grey_wonderer 08/02/2005

________________________________________

"Strange Bedfellows"

Pippin fumbled with the key and cursed under his breath. Why did Bucklanders lock everything? He made another attempt to open the door to the Crickhollow house and dropped the key onto the stoop in his efforts. Sighing deeply, he bent down to retrieve it and felt a hand push him down with its weight sending him to his knees on the stoop. “Drop your key again?” Merry’s voice asked.

“I am not here simply for you to lean on, Merry,” Pippin growled, his key in one fisted hand, still feeling the weight of his older cousin pressing against his back between his shoulder blades.

Merry laughed. “Without me, you’d never manage to get into the house. I think that’s worth allowing me to lean on you while I open the door.” He put his key into the lock and Pippin could hear the gentle click of the tumblers turning and a soft snap as the door opened. Merry gave one more firm press into the center of Pippin’s back and then stepped around him and went inside shutting the door on his younger cousin.

Pippin stood and grabbed the doorknob which wouldn’t budge. “Let go of the door, Merry!” he ordered and rattled the knob, irritated. “Merry!”

Laughing, Merry swung the door open and Pippin fell into him. “Come on in, Pip,” Merry grinned.

“I hate door locks,” Pippin growled, stuffing his key back into his pocket.

“There are times when they are needed,” Merry said. “You hungry?”

“Yes, I know we ate at the Hall but I could still do with something,” Pippin admitted, glad for the change of subject.

“I’ll go into the kitchen and see what we have,” Merry said. “I do regret that we forgot the basket of food that my mum packed for us to bring back.”

“Yes, just how do we always manage to do that?” Pippin wondered. It seemed to be becoming a habit just lately. Merry’s mum would fix them a basket of delicious food to take home and somehow, they would manage to come off without it. It was very unhobbit-like of them to leave good food behind and very aggravating. Pippin sighed with regret. “You would think that one of us might remember.”

“You would indeed,” Merry agreed. “I’ll just go into the kitchen and try to find some sort of replacement for mum’s cooking. It will be a big let down, to be sure, but I’m in no mood to walk back to the Hall and retrieve the basket.” He turned to go into the kitchen.

“I’m going to take off this waistcoat and jacket while you do that,” Pippin said, and made his way into his bedroom. Pippin walked into his room and draped his jacket over the end of his desk chair. He stretched and began to unbutton his waistcoat. He was always glad to get home so that he could relax. He loved visiting the Hall, but he also enjoyed slouching about Crickhollow in comfortable clothing. He tossed the waistcoat at the same chair and missed. It fell to the floor next to one from yesterday and Pippin ignored them both as he slid his braces down from his shoulders and let them fall to his sides. He was just untucking his shirt when a voice startled him. “Take anything else off, and there is going to be screaming.”

Pippin’s head shot up and his eyes widened as he caught sight of the speaker who was sitting in his bed with the blankets drawn up to her chin and her eyes narrowed. He took a step backward and bumped into the door causing it to close with a loud snap. “W-W-What are you doing in my bed?” he stammered.

“Your bed? I thought this was Merry’s room,” she said, still clutching the blanket.

“Well, it isn’t,” Pippin said, still leaning against the door to his room.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “I was sure that this was Merry’s room.” She frowned thoughtfully and let the blanket slip down past her bare shoulders as she relaxed her grip on it.

Pippin squeezed his eyes shut quickly. “Watch what you’re doing, Estella!”

She blinked and looked over at him, remembering that he was there and giggled. “Relax, You’ve seen all of me that you’re going to see,” she said, adjusting the blanket but making no attempt to move it back up. She looked at him, his eyes shut tightly and his back against the door and giggled again. “Honestly, Pippin. One might think that you’d never seen a naked hobbit lass,” she teased.

“Not in my bed,” Pippin blurted out and then blushed furiously at the admission. “I mean, not one that I didn’t invite,” he corrected, trying to undo the damage, but she continued to giggle at him and he felt the color rise in his cheeks. “I think you should leave now that you know you’re in the wrong room,” he said, trying to sound casual and failing.

“All right,” Estella said, moving to get up.

“Wait!” Pippin objected, covering his eyes with his hands. “What have you got on?”

“Nothing,” Estella said, sweetly, enjoying his discomfort. “Nothing at all. I’m as naked as the day that I was born.”

Pippin gulped. “Don’t get up, please,” he said, his hands still covering his eyes. “I don’t think either of us wants that.”

She laughed and then sighed. “This is certainly not going the way that I had planned it.”

Pippin uncovered his eyes and took a step toward her. “You planned this?”

“I planned to surprise Merry, not terrify you,” she said. “I was supposed to be in his bed, not yours and he was supposed to come home and find me here, er, there. Well, you know what I mean.”

Pippin groaned. “Have you lost your mind? Do you know how improper this is?”

Estella smirked. “Please tell me that I am not going to receive a lecture on proper behavior from you, Peregrin Took.”

“You should receive one from someone, Estella,” Pippin said, folding his arms over his chest and looking disgusted. “This is hardly the way that a proper lass behaves herself. Lasses just don’t show up naked in lad’s beds.” He shivered as he looked at her, sitting there in his bed, with that amused smile on her face and her eyes sparkling with mischief. “It isn’t done,” he tried. “What will Merry think?”

“Well, I was hoping that he’d think himself very lucky,” Estella said. “I mean, you don’t seriously think that I go about the Shire offering myself to all of the lads, do you?”

“How should I know?” Pippin winced, as he began to pace in a small circle. “I’ve never heard of this happening before, but how am I to know that it doesn’t?”

She glared at him. “Because I am telling you that it doesn’t! If Meriadoc Brandybuck weren’t so stubborn, then it wouldn’t be happening now. In fact, if he were a bit more observant, I might not have to do this at all. He might have realized that this was what needed to happen and have invited me!” She was coming dangerously close to moving the blanket down too far as she ranted on and Pippin turned his eyes away as she continued. “Here he goes off for ages and leaves me to worry about him and then when he does come back, well, I do understand that he needed some time to adjust, but, I think he’s had quite enough time!”

“You should think this over,” Pippin suggested. “In fact, you might want to get dressed and slip out of here. I won’t say a word about any of it. I just want to forget it.”

“Well, I don’t,” Estella said, firmly. “I’ve made up my mind to do this. I am tired of waiting for Meriadoc Brandybuck to make up his mind to do something. I am taking charge of this situation.” She let go of the blanket with one hand and smacked a fist against the bed.

Just then, the door to the room opened and Merry stuck his head in and spoke, “I’ve found a few things for, oh.” He paused and looked from Estella to a very nervous Pippin and frowned. “It seems you’ve found something too. I’ll just leave you alone, then, shall I?”

Pippin fairly flew at Merry and grabbed his arm. “No, no, don’t go, Merry. This isn’t what you think,” he said in a rush. “This was supposed to be your room only it isn’t, it’s mine, but she didn’t know that and please don’t leave me alone with her, Merry. She’s not decent.”

Merry grinned at Pippin who was obviously in quite a state and then looked over at Estella questioningly. “Is Pippin trying to tell me that you thought this was my room?”

Her nerve faded a bit and she nodded at him, pulling the blanket up underneath her chin again. She felt him looking at her appraisingly and chill bumps formed on her body. She met his soft, grey eyes with her own blue ones and waited for him to say more.

“So, all of this is for me, then?” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“It was supposed to be,” Estella said, softly, rediscovering her voice. “I thought this was your room.”

Merry wrinkled his nose as he took in the clutter of objects strewn about the room and the piles of clothing on the floor. “You did?”

“Well, that is your favorite walking stick over by the door, isn’t it? And isn’t that a set of your stack of herb books on that chair?” she asked, pointing while still keeping herself covered.

“Yes, sometimes my things make their way into Pippin’s room,” Merry said with a glance at his cousin. "I wondered where my books were."

“I meant to put them back,” Pippin mumbled. “I had no idea that those would get me into this much trouble.” He shifted from foot to foot and looked at the floor.

Merry grinned at him and then returned his gaze to Estella. “What are you wearing?”

“She’s not wearing anything, Merry,” Pippin blurted out. “She’s under that blanket in her altogether and not a stitch on!”

“I was asking Estella,” Merry sighed. He then wrinkled his brow and looked it Pippin. “How do you know? Did you see something?”

“Not this time, no,” Pippin said. “She told me she was naked, Merry.”

“Not *this* time?” Estella frowned, looking at Pippin intently. “What do you mean when you say 'not this time', Peregrin Took?”

“Nothing,” Pippin said, backing up a bit more and nearly running into Merry. His hands moved nervously about and he quickly stuffed them into his pockets.

“What do you mean this time?” Estella demanded, leaning forward. “Answer me, or I’ll get up and come over there.”

Pippin blanched and Merry smiled.

“Fine,” Pippin said. “Once, when you were visiting Pervinca when I was about sixteen or so, I accidentally saw your chest is all.”

Merry looked over at Pippin in amusement and Estella sucked in air. “You saw my breasts?”

“Just very quickly and only the once,” Pippin said, blushing brightly. “I never meant to, honest and I didn’t tell anyone, not even Merry.”

“No, you didn’t.” Merry frowned. “I might have enjoyed hearing about that, Pippin. You should have said something.”

“You might have seen them yourself by now, Meriadoc, if you had been paying any attention to me at all,” Estella said and then looked back at Pippin. “How did you see my breasts?”

“You were changing in Pervinca’s room and I opened the door without knocking because I always dothat and there you were,” Pippin said.

“I told you locks were a good thing sometimes,” Merry smiled.

“Well, I opened the door and there you were with your breasts exposed for anyone to see, just standing there with your frock about your waist as if that were expected,” Pippin went on ignoring Merry’s comment about locks.

“I was in your sister’s room with the door shut,” Estella said. “You should have knocked!”

“I know that now,” Pippin said. “There they, er, you were and I couldn’t help but see them.”

“And?” Merry asked, looking at Pippin.

“And, I backed out of the room, tripped over my feet in the hall and then made it to my room and hid under the bed,” Pippin said. “I missed supper over that!”

“Why?” Merry laughed while Estella smirked from the bed.

“Well, you can’t sit across the table from a lass when you’ve just seen her breasts and act as if you haven’t,” Pippin said, nervously. “What do you say to someone when you’ve seen their, well, her chest exposed?” Pippin was twisting the bottom of his shirt and breathing a bit too fast. “They were just out there, the pair of them, big as all out doors!”

“That big, uh?” Merry grinned and he looked at Estella. “I’m impressed, Miss Bolger. I had no idea.”

She frowned at him. “Of course you didn’t! How could you when you never seem to give me or them a thought?” She sniffed and looked away from him, insulted. “In fact, I have begun to wonder if you are even interested in seeing them or me in any way. This was a bad idea.” She said this last and then with the blanket wrapped about her, she got up from Pippin’s bed and began to walk to a pile of clothing on the floor that most definitely was not Pippin’s. “If you two will just kindly give me my privacy, then I will get dressed and go,” she said in a shaky voice.

“Now, just one minute there, Estella Bolger,” Merry said, softly taking a step in her direction. “Let’s discuss this a bit further before either of us makes any rash decisions.”

“I think one of us has already made a rash decision,” Pippin objected.

“Pippin, would you mind terribly leaving Estella and I alone for a minute or two?” Merry asked, still looking toward Estella.

“No, I’d be happy to,” Pippin said, not moving.

“Then do it,” Merry said.

“Do what?” Pippin asked, confused and looking at Estella also.

“Leave,” Merry said, firmly.

“Oh, right then,” Pippin said, moving toward the door. “I’ll just be in the next room if you need me.”

Merry sighed and turned to face Pippin. “Go back to the Hall and spend the night, Pip, will you?”

Pippin looked from Merry to Estella and then back again. “All right, but what shall I tell them is the reason that I’m back so soon? I mean, what should I say?”

“Tell them that I have company and that I wanted to spend some time alone with my company,” Merry said, raising an eyebrow.

“Should I say who your company is?” Pippin asked, hand on the doorknob.

Merry glanced at Estella and then back at Pippin. “No, just tell them that I required privacy and that I threatened to kill you if you didn’t give it to me.”

“But you didn’t threaten to kill me, Merry,” Pippin said. “You only asked.”

“Pippin, leave now, or I will kill you,” Merry said, sternly. “Leave this room and do not come back until after noon tomorrow. I have personal business to attend to and I require some privacy and I mean to have it. Is that clear?”

“Fine,” Pippin said. “But she handled this thing very poorly if you ask me.”

“No one asked you,” Estella snapped.

Pippin leaned toward Merry and whispered, “They truly are enormous. Be careful.” Having said that, he hurried from the room slamming the door behind him. Merry picked up Pippin’s coat and tossed it out of the room and closed the door again.

Merry smiled and turned his attention to Estella who was still standing near her clothing wrapped in the blanket but making no move to dress. He studied her carefully, taking in the soft, brown curls that framed her face, the large light blue eyes encircled by dark lashes, the small upturned nose, the full pouting lips, the firm chin and graceful neck, the curved form of her body that was not completely hidden by the blanket, and finally, her feet firmly planted on the floor with the toes slightly curled. He swallowed as the front door to the house banged shut and took a step in her direction. “So, you have something to say to me, Miss Bolger?”

She returned his gaze and nodded. Now that Pippin was gone, she found that she was a bit nervous. She was alone in a bedroom, naked, with Merry Brandybuck. Here before her stood one of the most notorious young single hobbits in all of the Shire. If any of the rumors were true, then she would hardly be the first naked lass that he had seen. She felt a wave of insecurity hit her and wished that she had taken Pippin’s advice and slipped out unnoticed earlier. Merry must have been with plenty of lasses and most likely many of them were far more attractive and far more self-assured than she was. Maybe Merry hadn’t paid her any more attention than he had because he wasn’t interested. Maybe she had been wrong about how he might feel about her. Maybe what she thought she’d sensed from him before he left the Shire had not been so, or maybe, now that he had returned home, he didn’t have any interest in Fredegar Bolger’s little sister, Estella. She trembled.

He looked at her, worriedly. “Are you cold? I could build a fire,” he offered, moving a bit closer but stopping a few steps from her. “I won’t hurt you, you know.”

She bit her lower lip and nodded. “I know. It’s only that I feel so silly now and it wasn’t supposed to be this way at all. I was supposed to be in your bed when you came in and you were supposed to come to me and be glad that I was there. You were supposed to take me in your arms and hold me. You weren’t supposed to feel sorry for me like you do now,” she said, softly.

“I don’t feel sorry for you, “ Merry said. “I felt a bit sorry for Pippin earlier because the poor lad was so flustered, but I don’t feel sorry for you, Estella.”

“Then what do you feel?” she asked, afraid of the answer and knowing that she had to have it all the same. She tightened her grip on the blanket and held her head high, trying to meet his gaze with some dignity in spite of her current state of undress.

“I am feeling a bit over whelmed at the moment,” Merry admitted, with a small smile. “Whatever I had been expecting today when I returned home, this far surpasses it for interest.” He pulled Pippin’s desk chair over toward himself and knocking the clothing from it, sat down to face her as she stood before him. “In all of my wildest dreams, I would never have thought to find you here in this manner.”

“You’re shocked,” Estella said, dropping her gaze now, embarrassed.

“No, not shocked,” Merry said, gently. “Only surprised.”

“You don’t find this to be improper behavior? You don’t think me less of a lady for it?” Estella asked.

“I could never think less of you in any way, Estella,” Merry said. “I have always held you in very high regard and I find that I still do even at this moment. You see, I have always admired your spirit and your nerve and this certainly took a lot of nerve on your part.” He smiled at her with his eyes twinkling. “Why most lasses, having heard the rumors about me, would hardly dare to do what you have done.”

“I needed an answer and I wasn’t getting it,” Estella said. She moved to lean against the bed. “I needed to know if you felt anything at all for me, Merry or if I was fooling myself.”

“When I was away, I thought of you,” Merry said, slowly. “I would lay awake at night during our travels or sit in the dark during my turn at watch and think of you and of home. I used to wonder what you were doing and try to picture you among family and friends, laughing and having fun. Then, I didn’t know what was happening here in the Shire and I thought of you as safe here. I thought of things as being normal and happy here. I took comfort in that when things were at their darkest for us. I would say to myself, at least everyone at home is safe. Then later, when I knew that might not be so and that if things went ill for us they would also go ill for all that we loved, well, then I would try all the harder to be of some use in our quest. I wanted to protect all of you here in the Shire from the evil that had come.” He paused and she remained silent, listening to him breathe and waiting for more. “It was at times like that, when I wished I had said more to you of how I felt. I feared that I might not have the chance to tell you later. I was afraid that I would never see you or home again.”

A tear formed in the corner of her eye and she moved to him and seated herself on his lap still wrapped in the blanket like a small child. She put an arm around his shoulders and leaned her head against his chest and said, “Then why, after you returned, did you not come to me and tell me how you felt?”

He ran a hand through her hair and breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of her. “I was afraid to, Estella. I have changed so much that I was afraid that you might not be interested anymore. I am not the same Merry Brandybuck that you used to kiss underneath the trees behind the barn. I am not the Merry Brandybuck who used to dance with you and hold you and tease you at parties. I can’t be,” he said, sadly.

“I think you’re wrong, Merry,” Estella said, slowly. “I think you are still that Merry Brandybuck, but that you are also more than that. I think that the part of you that I knew is still there. It’s only that it has been joined by an older, wiser, Merry Brandybuck who has seen things and done things that my Merry never thought that he would. I think that the Merry who used to hold me is holding me now, only now, I think he knows how easily things can be lost and what is really important in our lives.” She buried her face in his shoulder and felt his arms about her. “I think I have just answered my own questions.”

“What do you mean?” Merry asked, enjoying the feel of her in his arms and being grateful for her words.

“I mean that the Merry that I knew before would have crawled into that bed with me without thinking where it might lead,” Estella said with a slight giggle. “The Merry that holds me now, needs to know where it will lead.”

She pulled back from him and stood. “I can wait for this Merry to catch up to the old Merry,” she said with tears in her eyes.

“Can you?” he asked, hoping that she could.

“Yes, I could wait a very long time for such a hobbit as that,” Estella said. “Not forever, but for a long time.” She stood up, turned and walked over and retrieved her clothing from the floor with one hand while holding her blanket with the other.

He stood. “I want to tell you things so that you can understand it better, Stella, but it isn’t easy to say. It won’t be easy to hear either,” he said, his eyes filled with the pain of the memories that he was offering to share with her. ”I don’t think that there is another lass in all of the Shire who could face this with as much bravery as you save Rose Cotton who has stood by Sam in all of this.”

She smiled at him. “I am not Rose Cotton, but I do think that I love you enough to hear these things and to accept them.”

“Can you accept me even though I am not what I would have been before this journey?” Merry asked.

“I am here before you willing to give you every inch of myself, Merry,” Estella said. “This was a desperate thing that I did and I did it to hold onto you. Not just a part of you, but every inch of you. I want you as much as I wanted you the first time I set eyes on you when I was ten and you were putting tadpoles into the punch at the summer dance in Hobbiton with my brother. I have always wanted you, don’t you know that?”

“I might have suspected it a time or two. I might have hoped that you did many times, but I was never completely sure until just now,” Merry admitted.

“Why are lads so slow to catch onto what a lass wants?” she asked, smiling at him.

“Because lasses are a mystery to us,” Merry said. “I have always enjoyed a good mystery, and you, Estella Bolger are my favorite mystery.” He turned to the door. “I’ll let you dress and I will make us a bit of supper. We can sit by the fire in the parlor and eat and talk and maybe later, when I’m ready, you can show me your enormous breasts.”

She giggled. “Yes, it won’t do for Peregrin Took to be the only lad in the Shire that has seen them.”

Merry laughed. “I hardly think he was old enough to appreciate them fully at the time, and you deserve to be appreciated in every way, Estella.”

She watched him leave the room, closing the door behind him. She may not have gotten all that she had planned to get, but she had managed to get more than she could have hoped for.

The End

G.W. 03/03/2005

This one is rated PG-13 for a slightly scary story involving death in honor of Halloween.

It wasn’t quite winter but the wind now had a bite to it that it had lacked only a week ago. As Frodo hurriedly closed the parlor door behind Jolly Cotton a gust of wind managed to make its way inside along with the lad. Shivering a bit, Frodo greeted his guest with a smile. “Just hang your jacket and cap on one of the pegs near the door if you can find an empty one,” Frodo said. “There’s tea and cakes and all sorts of treats on the table in the parlor. Help your self, Jolly. I’m glad that you could come.”

Cheeks red from the wind, Jolly removed his cap and smiled a bit shyly at Frodo. “It was nice o’ you to include me, Mister Frodo,” Jolly said as he reached down and began to unfasten the buttons on his well-worn jacket. He looked up and caught sight of Sam over by the fireplace and his smile widened. He raised a hand and called, “Hullo, Sam!”

Sam looked away from the crowd of lads near the fire and waved back. He would have greeted Jolly but his mouth was full of cake presently.

Frodo made his way back toward the kitchen. He would need several more trays of cakes if he wanted to keep his young guests well fed and merry. He was just rounding the corner when he nearly collided with Marigold Gamgee, Sam’s younger sister. She was carrying a tray of biscuits in one hand and a platter of cheese and ham in the other. “Sorry, Mister Frodo,” she said, easing past him and making her way to the parlor.

Bag End was full of young folks this evening. Frodo had to admit that everything was going rather better than he had suspected that it might when Merry had first suggested this plan. Frodo had been concerned but Merry had forged ahead with determination aided by Pippin who was very excited to be included in it all. His younger cousins, it seemed, had been correct. The party was going very well indeed. Smiling, Frodo made his way to the kitchen and found Merry dipping apples into a sweet, candied confection boiling in a kettle over the fire. Estella Bolger was stirring the mixture to help keep it from setting up too quickly.

“Want a candy apple, Frodo?” Merry asked. He had one in each hand and was carrying them over to cool on a tray on the table. The apples glistened in the light from the lanterns as Merry lined them up on the tray. There were about twenty of them in place, each coated with a sweet tempting candy. Long carved sticks had been placed into the apples so that they could be dipped in the hot candy, cooled and then carried about and eaten right off of the stick. “We’ve got plenty for now but they’ll be gone in a hurry as soon as the others find out about them,” Merry warned.

“I think I’ll pass on the candy apples for the present, Merry,” Frodo said. “I just came in to see how our party food was holding out. We have a very large, very hungry crowd out in the parlor.”

“Well, we’re nearly finished with these apples,” Estella said. “Where’s Pippin?” She looked through the steam from the boiling kettle and pushed back a damp strand of hair with her free hand. “He’s supposed to be bringing more apples from the cellar.”

As if on command, Pippin could be heard making his way up the stairs and into the kitchen. “I’m coming! You don’t have to be so bossy, you know,” he huffed.

Merry grinned at Estella and said in a low voice, “Yes, don’t be so bossy, Estella.”

She stuck out her tongue at him and continued to stir the candy mixture. Pippin came into the room with a large basket of apples, puffing and blowing with the exertion of carrying the load up out of the cellar and sat the basket at Merry’s feet with a thud. “There, just as ordered, more apples,” Pippin panted.

“They weren’t too heavy for you, were they?” Merry asked grinning at Pippin’s red face as his eighteen-year-old cousin stood with his hands on his knees and breathed hard.

“Well, don’t just stand there, you two,” Estella said. “I’m not about to do all of the work around here. Get some sticks into those apples and start dipping them. This isn’t my party, you know.”

“If it isn’t her party then how come she’s giving all the orders?” Pippin muttered to Merry.

“I heard that, Peregrin Took,” Estella said and Merry laughed and thrust a handful of the carved sticks into Pippin’s hands.

“I have been!” Pippin frowned. “Who do you think it was that brought those apples up here?”

Frodo ignored the three of them and began to slice a freshly baked loaf of bread. He watched as Merry pushed one wayward strand of hair out of Estella’s eyes for her and dipped an apple into the candy while Pippin sat cross-legged on the floor next to the basket of apples and began plunging sticks into them with a bit too much enthusiasm. Pippin was glaring at Estella as he worked and watching Merry flirt shamelessly.

“Oh, good, candy apples!” Berilac said as he entered the kitchen. Apparently his voice had carried because there were soon more guests in the kitchen than in the parlor. Instead of putting the apples on the tray to cool Merry was dipping them and handing them directly to his hungry friends. Pippin’s fingers were stepped on several times during the rush of hobbits toward the apples and he could be heard complaining if anyone cared to listen which no one did.

The party progressed from constant eating to nibbling and talking in the parlor. Frodo sat with his pipe in a far corner of the room and watched the young folks laugh and chatter. Sam, feeling more than slightly uncomfortable about being a guest rather than working in the kitchen, kept coming over to see if Frodo needed anything. Merry, Berilac and Freddy kept dragging the young gardener back to the party. Sam’s sister, Marigold seemed more than willing to sit and talk with the others even if poor Sam didn’t find it proper.

Merry and Pippin had been determined to include Sam in the guest list. “Sam needs to have fun too,” Pippin had insisted. “Besides, he knows everyone that’s coming and they all like him. Everyone likes Sam.”

Frodo was glad that Sam had agreed to join the party even if it had taken most of the week to convince the lad to do so. Pippin was right. Sam needed to have some fun too and it was after all, ‘the Haunting week”.

Haunting week was one of Merry’s favorite holidays. He had loved it since he’d been a small lad and barely old enough to listen to the stories and partake of the holiday treats. Every year at this time as the harvest was coming to a close and everyone was making preparations for the winter months, the hobbits of the Shire celebrated “haunting week.” Every smial was decorated with ghosts made out of old linens and children’s drawings of spiders and spirits and monsters. Families prepared candies and held parties for the little children with games and stories and songs. There were bon fires and hayrides for the teens and tweens. But more than anything else there were spooky stories told by the fireside.

Bilbo had given a party at Bag End nearly every year when he’d been in residence. This was the first party that Frodo had given for haunting week and he doubted that he would have given this one had it not been for Merry’s insistence. He puffed his pipe thoughtfully. He was glad that he had agreed to let the lads have the party. He liked the festive feel of Bag End when it was filled with laughter and food and young folk. He was pulled out of his thoughts as Merry began putting out some of the lanterns in the parlor while Freddy lit a few large candles that had been arranged on the table and on the mantle. Soon there would be a story.

Some of the guests had already departed but there were about twelve or so left counting Merry and Pippin. Frodo smiled as Marigold seated herself at the foot of Sam’s chair and backed up against him. Sam patted her shoulder and leaned forward protectively to reassure her. Freddy finished lighting the candles and went over to sit on the sofa between his sister, Estella and Berilac Brandybuck. Jolly Cotton and Falco Boffins sat near the fireplace in a couple of straight-backed kitchen chairs that had been moved into the parlor to accommodate the guests. Rose Cotton seated herself on the arm of Sam’s chair and Frodo could see the lad blushing even in the low light. Pervinca Took, Pippin’s older sister, who had arrived with the Bolgers, settled herself in the remaining armchair, pulling her feet up underneath her skirt and looking breathless with excitement. Nick Cotton, and Merimas Brandybuck sat on the floor near Pervinca’s armchair. Pippin moved about the room and finally settled for leaning against the back of the sofa just behind Fredegar as Merry moved to stand in front of the fireplace.

Frodo watched as Merry assumed a theatrical air and lowered his voice for affect. This had been Bilbo’s favorite part of haunting week; the story telling. Merry cleared his throat and looked at each of his guests in turn as the light from the candles cast an eerie pattern of shadows on his face and about the room. “Welcome, my friends,” Merry intoned. “Tonight, you shall hear a tale that is not for the faint of heart nor the very young but the sort of tale that should only be told among the brave. Before we begin, if any among you are not accustom to frightening tales with violent passages, do not be ashamed to leave. It is no disgrace to admit your limitations and none here will make mention of it when next we see you.”

A silence fell over the room and many of the guests looked at Pippin who was the youngest in the room. Feeling their accusing eyes upon him, Pippin fidgeted and said, “I’m not leaving.” He folded his arms over his chest and glared at them while some of them snickered.

Merry cleared his throat to regain their attention. “Some of you are spoiling the mood,” he said, frowning at his audience, all of whom turned back to face him and quieted.

“Thank you,” Merry said stiffly and Frodo choked back a laugh from his corner seat. Merry looked so very serious that he was nearly comical. “If none among you are leaving, then it is time to begin,” Merry continued and he leaned forward quickly and blew out the center candle on the table causing Pervinca and Marigold both to gasp and the flames on the two remaining candles to flicker slightly. Pippin’s eyes widened and Fredegar grinned but no one said anything.

Merry allowed the silence to deepen a bit and then in a hoarse whisper he said, “If there is but one among you with a tale not fit to be told at any other time of the year, a tale too terrible to think long upon, a tale of a haunting, a murder, a mystery or some other frightening experience, then come forth and regale us.” He looked around at them all and then said, “Who will it be?”

“Sit down, Pippin and let someone with a real scary story tell it,” Pervinca said.

“I have a scary story,” Pippin persisted. “Merry said anyone and I’m someone.” He glared at his older sister.

“This isn’t the children’s hour,” Berilac snorted. His remark got a laugh out of Jolly and Merimas and so he continued. “Be a good lad and let Merry do the honors.”

“Sit down, Pippin,” Estella said. “I doubt that you know any scary stories anyway.”

“I do so,” Pippin said leaning over the sofa and looking her in the eye. “I know plenty of them.”

“Do something with him, Merry,” Falco sighed. “He’ll ruin the story-telling.”

“I will not!” Pippin said. “I think you’re just afraid that my story will scare you and cause you to go running from the smial.”

This caused everyone to laugh. “You couldn’t scare a faunt, Peregrin Took!” Estella said and this brought on more laughter.

“All right, all right, hold on all of you,” Merry said in a loud voice. “Now, this is supposed to be the portion of the evening that celebrates all tales of hauntings and you lot are ruining it.”

“It’s Pippin who’s ruining it,” Merimas said. “He’s the one who won’t sit down and let someone older tell a tale. We don’t want to hear any children’s stories. We want to hear something creepy.”

“How do you know that Pippin doesn’t have a creepy story to tell?” Merry asked.

“He’s a child,” Falco said. “He can’t know any creepy stories and no, that story about the year he saw a two-headed goat does not count.”

“I am not a child,” Pippin said angrily. “And I really did see a two-headed goat!”

“I have too,” Pippin declared. “And I know lots of scary stories, but if you are all too cowardly to listen to them then that’s fine by me. I don’t want to frighten any of you.”

“That’s a laugh,” Berilac said. “The day you frighten me with a story is the day that I leave the Shire for good.”

Merry cleared his throat and glared at his guests. “You are all acting like a bunch of faunts,” he said. “Pippin may be the youngest here, but some of you are acting like little children instead of tweens.”

There was a general grumbling with everyone looking accusingly at the hobbit sitting next to them and a great many glares were sent in Pippin’s direction but no one said anything discernable. Merry continued to glare at them all for a minute and then he said, “I think we should give Pippin a chance.” This was met with more groaning. “I mean it. I say we give Pippin a change to begin his story and see what he comes up with. If it isn’t scary or if it’s filled with two-headed farm animals, then we can interrupt him and someone else can tell a story.”

“You just mention that you've seen one two-headed goat and folks won’t let you live it down,” Pippin muttered.

Frodo kept quiet but it was becoming increasingly hard not to laugh. He didn’t think that any of the others had noticed him hiding in his corner in the dark and he was enjoying the goings on far too much to alert them to his location just yet.

“Well?” Merry asked, looking about the room and practically daring anyone to object.

“All right,” Merimas sighed. “But let’s get this over with so we can move on to a scary story by someone who isn’t still wet behind the ears.”

Pippin opened his mouth to defend his ears, but Merry was quicker. “If this is to be fair then you all have to be quiet and give Pippin your attention just as you would if this were someone older telling the story. If, after a few minutes, the story isn’t scary or entertaining, then Pippin will go back and sit down and let someone else have a try, agreed?” Everyone murmured grudgingly and Merry looked at Pippin. “Make it good,” he said. As Pippin passed Merry and came up front to tale his story, Merry leaned over and whispered, “No two-headed goats.”

Merry hid a smirk and went over and sat down next to Estella who did not look at all pleased with this choice of storytellers. She gave Merry a small frown and then turned away from him to glare at Pippin.

Frodo watched as Pippin seated himself on the edge of the hearth and faced his hostile audience with Tookish confidence. The room had gone quiet. Pippin leaned forward resting his hands on his knees and looked around at the tweens. “I’ve never told this story before but it’s a very old story so some of you may have heard whisperings about it, though I doubt any of you have heard the full tale,” Pippin began. His voice was even and held no trace nervousness. “I don’t know the exact year that this took place, but I do know that none here in this room were alive nor were any of your parents. The story is one of great tragedy and sorrow and it is rarely spoken of for fear and dread that it may happen again some day. I only tell it now as a warning.”

Frodo smiled. Pippin had everyone’s attention now. Bilbo would have been proud. Merry certainly was. Frodo could see him smiling as he watched Pippin intently.

“It was just this very time of year, just after the harvest when a family by the name of Underhill held a party much like this one, for the birthday of their oldest daughter,” Pippin said. “Her name was Willow and she was one of the prettiest lasses in all of the Shire. She was celebrating her twenty-eighth year and had been allowed to invite all of her friends. It had been a good year for the crops and her family was making this a celebration to beat all celebrations, partly because Willow was such a good lass and partly because of the bountiful harvest. Little did they know that this would be Willow’s last birthday.” As he said this, Pippin leaned forward and blew out a second candle leaving only one for light along with the fire in the hearth.

“Willow was the sort of lass who made friends easily and so it should have been no surprise to anyone that on the very night of her party, she invited a complete stranger to join them,” Pippin said. “You see, they were having slightly warmer weather than we are now and so they were having the party feast outside. They had set up tables filled with all sorts of good food. They had chicken and ham and biscuits and cakes and pies and cheeses and apples and-“

“Well, they had lots of food,” Pippin said quickly with a nervous look at Merry. He then went on with his story. “Because they were Willow’s favorite flowers, each table was decorated with roses. Farmer Underhill, did I mention that he was a farmer?” Pippin asked.

“Oh, well he was a farmer and that’s why I mentioned all that about the harvest,” Pippin said with a smile at Rose. “Anyway, Farmer Underhill was known for growing some of the finest roses around. His daughter loved the flowers, most especially the red ones and her mum often said that it was a shame that they had not named her Rose.” At this pronouncement, Rose Cotton reached over and took hold of Sam’s hand and shivered slightly. Sam gave her a reassuring smile and silently thanked Master Pippin for putting this part into the story.

“The party was going quite well and everyone was enjoying themselves when all of the sudden, Willow noticed that there was a young lad standing off in the trees just watching them,” Pippin said. Pervinca, who had been trying to look bored, gave up the effort and put her arms around herself and pushed back further into the chair for more protection. “Willow was the curious sort and as I’ve mentioned, she was also very friendly, I did mention that, didn’t I?” Pippin asked.

“Well, good because I meant to,” Pippin said and Frodo bit his lip so as not to laugh. “Willow became curious about the lad and decided to go over and introduce herself. She walked right over to where he was standing and bold as brass, she looks up at him and says, ‘I’m Willow Underhill and it’s my birthday today. My family and friends are all having a party for me. Perhaps you’d like to join us.’”

Marigold’s eyes were wide and she pushed back further against Sam’s legs and pulled her feet underneath her. Her eyes were fixed on Pippin and he continued. “Well, the hobbit lad didn’t say anything at all, he just smiled at her, kind of oddly, like this,” Pippin said and he let a very small smile show and slowly looked around at all of his listeners. After a slight pause he went on. “She was puzzled by this and so she tried again, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?’ she asked him trying to sound like she was teasing or something. A bit like a lass who is flirting too much,” Pippin tried to explain with a meaningful glance at Estella Bolger who glared at him. “Then just when she was about to ask him something more, he leaned forward and opened his mouth as wide as he was able to and she screamed because he truly didn’t have any tongue at all!”

Rose and Marigold gasped and Jolly Cotton murmured something nervously to Sam. Estella sighed and rolled her eyes and Pippin ignored her and continued. “Willow quickly covered her mouth with both hands because she realized how rude she was being. The lad obviously couldn’t help it that he didn’t have a tongue.”

Frodo covered his own mouth with his hand and squeezed his eyes shut. This was utterly priceless!

“She stared at the place where his tongue should be and tried not to scream any more as one of her friends called out to her, ‘Are you all right, Willow? Who’s that lad that you’re with?’” Pippin stood now and leaned against the hearth. “She managed to wave to her friend and she hoped that she looked normal and not like she’d just met a lad without any tongue.”

Merry was now biting the back of his hand to keep from laughing and Estella was groaning softly. Pippin shot her a nasty look and went on. “Willow’s friend was satisfied that Willow was all right and she turned back to the party to get some more cake. Willow looked at the lad and said, ‘I’m sorry. I hope that I haven’t offended you it’s only that you startled me. Please come with me over to the party and meet my friends and have something to eat. It isn’t right that you should be standing out here all alone.’ She reached over and took his hand and began to lead him over to the party, but he stopped suddenly, pulled his hand out of hers and ran off into the trees.”

“You’ll see,” Pippin said. “You have to listen to the rest of the story to know that.”

“Willow felt bad because she realized that she might have hurt the lad’s feelings by screaming the way she had. He was gone now and so Willow turned and went back to the party and tried to forget about the strange lad without any tongue,” Pippin said.

Again Frodo had to struggle to keep silent as the laughter bubbled up inside of him.

“The party was great fun and everyone had a wonderful time and Willow had managed to forget about the stranger. When it got dark, they moved the party inside and they had even more fun,” Pippin said. “One by one, the guests had to take their leave and they said good night to Willow and the Underhills and went back out into the dark night to go home. When the last guest had left, Willow thanked her parents for giving her such a wonderful birthday and went to bed.” Now Pippin blew out the last of the candles and Rose tightened her grip on Sam’s hand. Estella allowed Merry to put his arm about her shoulders but still tried to look bored.

“The smial was soon dark and quiet and everyone was asleep,” Pippin said in a soft voice as if afraid that he might wake the fictitious Underhills. Pippin began to pace ever so slowly back and forth in front of the fireplace. “Just before dawn, Willow thought she heard someone scream and she sat up in her bed, shaking with fear. Worried about her family, she lit a candle and got slowly out of her bed and crept ever so quietly out of her room in nothing but her night gown.”

The room was completely quiet now and you could have heard a pin drop as Pippin began to move around his audience with his hands clasped behind his back, talking softly as he went. “She walked all through the smial with her wee candle but she couldn’t find a single member of her family. She was growing more and more frightened with each room that she searched in the near darkness. Everything was so quiet and so dark and it was so very late,” Pippin said. “She couldn’t even find her little kitten, Snowball and she could always find the kitten but it wasn’t there either.”

Frodo had a minute to wonder exactly how the kitten had got to be part of the story. He saw Estella Bolger look over at Merry and mouth the word, ‘Snowball?’ but Pippin didn’t seem to take any notice of Estella this time. He continued by moving back up to the hearth. “She was all alone in the dark smial without even her wee kitten for comfort. Her hands were shaking and twice her candle nearly went out. She didn’t want to because she was very afraid, but she decided to go outside to look for her parents.”

“Aye,” Pippin agreed. “She got up her nerve and went out of the smial in the cold dark night alone.” He reached over onto the table, got a candle and lit it. Pippin then began to walk about again as if he were Willow looking outside for the family. You had to admire the lad’s theatrics. “She looked everywhere and had nearly given up when she felt her toe bump against something and she looked down. Then she began to scream and she couldn’t stop screaming!” Pippin’s voice was louder now and he handed the candle to a rather surprised Freddy and stepped back. “It was terrible! They were everywhere! The ground was covered with them!”

Pippin leaned forward and looked Estella right in the eyes. “Dead hobbits,” he whispered.

Pervinca moaned softly and Marigold squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands. Nick Cotton winced.

“Aye, all of her family and her party guests were lying about on the ground just as dead as dead can be and as she ran about screaming, she kept tripping over them,” Pippin said. “Everyone that had come to her party and all of her family were lying there dead. She was the only one left alive.”

A tiny voice in Frodo ‘s head whispered, ‘What about Snowball?’ but he ignored it.

“The poor lass was going quite mad with grief,” Pippin said. “And then she saw him.”

“Aye, that’s him,” Pippin said. “He was coming toward her and he had a single rose in his hand. She tried to back away but she tripped over one of her dead friends and fell. And he just kept coming closer and closer and closer and finally he was standing over her, looking down on her and she opened her mouth to scream.” Pippin stopped and turned his back on his audience.

“Finish it, Pippin!” Estella said not realizing that she was squeezing Merry’s hand now.

Pippin turned back and looked at them. “The next morning some of the Shirriffs came out to look for the party guests that had never returned to their homes and they found all of these dead hobbits just lying about and each one had a single rose lying on their cold, dead, body,” Pippin said. “Lying next to the very tree under which she’d first met that strange lad with no tongue, was Willow and she was dead too just like the others. They never found the lad without any tongue or even learned who he was but folks that know say he wanders the woods of the Shire at night carrying a single rose.”

The tweens looked at Pippin for a minute or two and then broke into applause. “That was some story!” Merry said grinning.

“I guess you’ll be packing to leave the Shire, won’t you Berilac?” Merry asked.

Everyone laughed and Pippin, very graciously accepted his praise. He grinned broadly and flushed with pride as the older lads and lasses bragged on his story-telling talent and confessed to being a bit frightened. Pippin was the center of attention until after the guests had left.

Merry had just about fallen asleep when he heard someone slip into his room. He rolled over on his back and peered out of one eye. “What?” he asked grouchily.

“Would you mind if I slept in here with you tonight?” Pippin asked approaching the bed cautiously.

Merry opened both eyes now and smiled slightly. “And why would you want to do a thing like that?”

“I’m a bit scared all right?” Pippin said irritably as he forced his way into Merry’s bed and pulled the covers up to his chin.

“Well, it was a very scary story,” Pippin said sliding over closer to Merry who was shaking with laughter.

“But you know it didn’t happen you little idiot,” Merry said. “You’re the one that made it up so you have to know that it isn’t true.”

“All the same, Merry,” Pippin shivered. “What if there really is some hobbit stalking about in the woods without a tongue?”

Merry dissolved into a fit of laughter. “I can’t believe you scared yourself!”

“If you tell Estella Bolger a word of this, I’ll never speak to you again, Merry,” Pippin threatened.

Suddenly they both heard a noise that sounded like someone clearing their throat. Merry sat up and Pippin peered out from underneath the blankets to see Frodo standing in the open doorway. “Pippin?” Frodo said.

Now Merry was shaking with silent laughter and was forced to hide his head under the covers as Pippin sat up and said, “Oh, the wee kitten, Snowball, was the only one to get away.”

“No, it got away and found a nice hobbit family to live out the rest of its life with,” Pippin said smiling.

“That’s good,” Frodo said. “I’m going to my room and read a book now. If you lads need anything just come and get me.”

“We’ll wander through the smial with a single candle in the dark,” Merry said from beneath the covers.

“That’s not funny!” Pippin said, swatting at the lump underneath the blankets that was Merry.

“I think so,” Pippin said laying back down and sliding over next to Merry. “Why?”

“He came all the way in here to find out what happened to the cat?” Merry snickered and Pippin laughed in spite of himself. “Pip, our older cousin is just plain daft.” As their laughter quieted Merry said, “So how long do you figure it will be before you can sleep on your own again?”

“Then try to lay still and don’t squirm or you’ll have to go in and sleep with Frodo,” Merry said draping an arm over Pippin. “I can’t believe you actually scared yourself!”

“I’m a very good storyteller, Merry,” Pippin said, defensively. “Sometimes that can be a bit dangerous. My stories are so believable and so well told. You can hardly blame me for believing them too.”

Merry chuckled. “You must be good. You actually managed to pull Frodo away from his book so that he could come in here and check on what happened to a made-up cat.”

“I am good, aren’t I?” Pippin said proudly. “All the same, maybe next year I’ll just tell that story about the two-headed goat. It’s not as scary.”

Written as a Hobbit_ficathon challenge story set forth by Anso to use the words

“Peregrin Took, what do you think you’re doing with that jam?” Pearl demanded. Her little brother was kneeling in his chair with his elbows on their kitchen table and the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he concentrated on his task.

He didn’t look up at his sister as he spread some of the jam in question over one of the biscuits on his plate. “I’m puttin’ jam on my biscuits, Pearl,” he declared.

“I can see that,” Pearl sighed with a slight smile. “Why are you putting jam on your biscuits? They already have sugar on them. Don’t you think that they are sweet enough just the way they are?” She sat down on the chair next to his and watched him coat the other biscuit.

He surveyed his efforts and then put his knife down on the white tablecloth leaving a raspberry stain. Before Pearl could object to this he grinned up at her and said, “Merry says that biscuits are better with jam on them.”

“Oh he does, does he?” Pearl said frowning at the two biscuits, which were dripping with raspberry jam. Pearl noticed that there was also a generous amount of the jam around Pippin’s smile.

“Merry says that he eats his biscuits like this all the time,” Pippin continued. “The last time that I was at Merry’s smial, him and me ate our biscuits just like these ones here.” He picked up one of the biscuits and bit into it. As jam filled his mouth and dribbled down his sharp chin he said, “These biscuits are much improved by jam.”

“Have one if you want,” Pippin said picking up his remaining biscuit and offering it to her with sticky fingers and a winning smile. “It’s my last one but Merry says I should share more so I don’t get selfish.”

“Well, if Merry says so,” Pearl replied and gingerly took a small bit of the biscuit, which was so sweet that it nearly made her choke. “It’s very good, dearest but since it is your last then maybe you should finish it.”

Pippin grinned at her. “You’re sharing just like Merry says.” He quickly crammed the biscuit into his mouth in case she changed her mind and chewed noisily.

“Merry says that if it rains when it’s cold outside that the rain will turn to snow,” Pippin said knowingly to Pervinca. “Do you think it’s cold enough now?” He pressed his nose against the window pane and peered out at the rain.

“Pippin, it’s spring time,” Pervinca said. “It doesn’t snow ever this late in the year and it isn’t cold enough for snow. Flowers are already blooming in mum’s garden.” She frowned at her little brother.

“Well, Merry says that’s why it snows,” Pippin said still looking out at the rain. “Merry says that the rain gets too cold to be water anymore and it just is snow then. If it gets that cold out while it’s raining then maybe the rain will be snow and then we can go outside and play in it. If it stays rain then we have to stay in here.”

“You’re just being silly,” Pervinca said in an annoyed tone. “It won’t snow.”

“Merry says that it will if it’s cold,” Pippin replied. He blew out a breath against the glass of the window and fogged it over. “I can make my name on here, Vince. Wanna see me?” He held one finger up and looked at her hopefully.

“I can so,” Pippin said. “Merry showed me.” He quickly turned away from her and carefully ran his finger across the glass in the foggy section. Slowly a rather shaky looking P-I-P appeared and he threw his older sister a triumphant glare. “See it says my name.”

“Where’s the rest of it?” Pervinca asked leaning forward and looking at the three letters.

“That only says Pip,” Pervinca corrected. “It’s only part of your name and not even your whole nickname. It just says Pip.”

He continued to smile at her. “Merry says that I’m Pip and that everyone knows it, so if they see Pip on something they know it means Peregrin Took, so there! That’s what Merry says!”

“Merry doesn’t know everything,” Pervinca said hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed as she leaned down into his face.

“Why would I say that?” Pervinca frowned not sure if this was an insult or not.

“Because Merry says that you don’t know anything so how could you know if Merry knows everything or not?” Pippin said.

Pervinca growled and stalked out of the room calling for their mother in loud, angry tones as Pearl came into the parlor. She saw Pippin looking out at the rain and grinning. “Pippin, what are you doing?” Pearl asked.

“Watching for this rain to get cold and turn into snow so I can go outside.”

“Look, Nell!” Pippin crowed as he pointed to the garden. “We got fire flies!”

Nell looked over at the little points of light winking in and out over the garden and smiled at her little brother. “We certainly do, Pippin,” she said.

“We could catch them if you help me and if we have a jar for them and if we make holes in the top so they can get their breath and if we promise to let them go after we look at them for long enough,” Pippin said all in a rush while bouncing on his toes.

Nell laughed. “I suppose we can since you know all of the rules for fire fly hunting.”

“I might have guessed that,” Nell sighed. “I’ll get a jar. You wait right here and I will be right back.”

“I’ll watch them so they don’t go away,” Pippin said fixing his gaze on the fireflies. He was still looking at them when Nell returned with the jar, tiny holes already poked into the cheesecloth that they would use for a lid.

“Now, you have to be careful when you catch them so that you don’t squish them, Pippin,” Nell advised.

“I know,” Pippin said. “Merry says that if you squish them the fire comes out of their bums and they won’t light up no more.”

Nell put her hand over her mouth to hold back a giggle as Pippin ran off to try and catch the tiny glowing insects, his hands held high over his head and snatching at the air as he went.

“It’s a cow now but it used to be a pony,” Pippin said. “I wish it were still a pony. Cows aren’t as much fun as ponies are.”

Frodo laughed gently and ruffled his small cousin’s hair. “Pippin that cow was not a pony. It was a calf when it was a baby but it was never a pony,” Frodo explained. The little lad was usually very clever but Frodo supposed that Pippin was confused about cows and ponies.

“No, it was a pony but then a wizard like Gandalf fed it some magic hay and it turned into a cow ‘cause Papa and Momma needed the milk for us children,” Pippin said. He reached a tiny hand through the slats in the fence and touched the cow’s nose gently. “It’s a good ole cow and I like milk but I wish it would be a pony again.” He sighed.

Pippin turned to face Frodo and said, “Just someone. Merry says that I shouldn’t tell you who it was.”

“Can you tell me the story about the magic hay if you don’t tell me who told you the story?” Frodo asked.

Pippin cocked his head to the side and considered this. “I think so,” he decided.

“It is,” Pippin said. “I can tell it really good too. Merry says that I tell it almost as good as,” he paused for a minute and then said, “Almost as good as the someone who telled it to me tells it.”

“Then I would love to hear you tell the story about this cow,” Frodo said and he sat down in the grass next to the fence.

Pippin dropped down onto his stomach in the grass and rested his chin on his hands and began. “Once on a time when I was too little to know it, Momma and Pappa were worried because we didn’t have any cow and so we didn’t have any milk to pour over our porridge at first breakfast or at second breakfast either,” Pippin said making his little face look very sad. “All we had was this one pony and ponies don’t have any milk coming out of them so it wasn’t any help at all really.”

Frodo tried not to laugh as he looked into Pippin’s serious little face. “What did your Momma and Pappa do?” Frodo asked.

“Nothing,” Pippin said as if surprised by this question. “They can’t do any magic because they’re only hobbits.”

“But one night after dark when everyone was sleeping except Merry who saw everything cause he was in the barn when he was supposed to be in bed which was a lucky thing or no one would know about any of this,” Pippin said.

“Merry is in the barn and he sees this Wizard who might have been Bilbo’s Wizard,” Pippin said. “The Wizard goes right up to our pony and gives it a handful of this magic hay that-“

Pippin frowned. “You aren’t supposed to inturpt, Frodo. Merry says that sort of thing spoils the story.”

“He’s right about that at least,” Frodo said. “I’m sorry, Pippin. It’s just such an exciting story that I got carried away.”

Pippin sat up and grinned. “That’s all right, Frodo. I can finish the story even though you did rupt me while I was right to the good part.”

“Anyway, Merry sees the Wizard give our pony this magic hay that Merry knows was magic but he didn’t tell me why he knows. He just does,” Pippin said and waited to see if Frodo might interrupt again. Frodo didn’t and so Pippin continued. “Our pony eats the hay until it is all gone and then the Wizard winks at Merry and puts his finger on his mouth like this.” Pippin demonstrated. “Like when you makes a shhhhhh noise so someone will be quiet.”

“Merry knew that the Wizard had done some magic to our pony and that he didn’t want Merry to ever tell anyone about it,” Pippin said. “After the Wizard left, Merry looked at our pony and he saw that it wasn’t a pony any more. It was this cow right here!” Pippin stood up quickly and pointed his finger at the cow, his eyes wide as if just hearing this story for the very first time.

“That’s amazing!” Frodo said hoping that this remark would not be thought of as an interruption.

“I know!” Pippin said. “So Merry sneaked back into his bed in our smial cause he was staying over with me when this happened to our pony and he pretended to be surprised when we had milk for our porridge the next day!”

Pippin spun in a circle and then faced Frodo. “He might have wanted to tell me about it on account of how he knows that I want a pony,” Pippin said. “But he wouldn’t have told me because that Wizard didn’t want him to so he couldn’t or he’d be turned into something.”

“That seems reasonable,” Frodo said. “But if Merry didn’t tell you and he is the only one who knows then who told you this amazing story about your cow?”

Pippin spun around again, fidgeted for a bit and then said, “I can’t tell you that, Frodo. I can only tell you the story of how our pony is a cow.”

“And you can’t tell anybody that I told you,” Pippin said seriously. “I don’t want to get Merry in trouble with any Wizards even if it is Bilbo’s wizard.”

“Maybe if the Wizard thought that Merry had told you, then the Wizard would turn Merry into a pony,” Frodo said.

Pippin’s eyes widened and he considered this. Frodo watched as Pippin struggled with his desire to keep his older cousin’s secret and his desire to have his own pony. Finally, Pippin said, “I couldn’t do that to poor Merry unless it was only for a week or so.” He looked over at the cow that was now eating grass and swishing her tale. Pippin sighed. “I sure wish that cow was a pony again though.”

“Pippin!” Merry shouted. “Sit still or you’ll tip us all into the Brandywine.” The little rowboat rocked wildly as Pippin sat down quickly. “How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t stand up in a boat?”

Pippin scowled. “I was only getting comfortable. I was going to sit back down.”

Frodo, who was sitting in the stern of the little boat eating an apple smiled over at his two bickering cousins.

“If you’d ever listen to anything that I say the first time, then I wouldn’t have to keep repeating myself,” Merry grumbled as he picked up his fishing pole and prepared to cast the line into the water. “I don’t know why I say anything at all to you. You never hear a word of it and if you do, then you promptly ignore all of it and do as you please.”

“I might listen to you if you ever said anything important,” Pippin retorted. “Which you don’t.”

“Go ahead and fall into the Brandywine then you stubborn Took,” Merry said. “Just don’t scare off the fish while your splashing about and yelling for help.”

“If I fall in, I’ll just swim to the bank,” Pippin said. “You taught me that.”

Frodo smirked and Merry turned his glare on him now. “You’d be annoyed too if everything you said fell on deaf ears,” Merry complained. “The only reason Pip remembers my name is because someone other than me told it to him. He doesn’t listen to me.”

“I’m sitting right here listening to you now,” Pippin objected. “As usual, you aren’t saying anything important.” Pippin put a hand into the water and swished it around gently. “How can anyone listen to you prattle on for hours on end about nothing important?”

“You would know a thing or two about prattling on,” Merry snorted. “The Tooks invented prattling on.”

Pippin frowned and splashed a bit of the Brandywine at Merry. “Who told you that one?” he scoffed.

“No one had to tell me,” Merry smiled. “Spending the last twenty years in your company taught me that.”

Instead of making a reply Pippin hopped to his feet and pointed toward Merry’s line in the water as it jerked about. “Merry! You’ve got a fish! Pay attention or you’ll lose him,” Pippin shouted. “You always tell me to watch the line so that I know when to pull the fish into the boat so watch!”

Frodo chuckled softly as Merry gave his full attention to his fishing. No, Pippin didn’t simply listen to what Merry said. Pippin memorized every single word that left Merry’s mouth, believed most of what Merry said and then repeated the wit and wisdom of his older Brandybuck cousin for the whole Shire to hear every chance that he got. Pippin Took was the leading authority on what Merry had to say even if Merry didn’t realize it.

Pippin’s Night Out was written for Marigold's Challenge 23.
Rated PG-13
Author: Grey_wonderer
Beta: Marigold
These are not my characters. If they were, I would be rich and famous by now.

“Pippin’s Night Out”
It’ll be light soon. That’s the trouble just now. At some point in the not too distant future the sun will begin to come out and it will be morning. That will mean that folks will be up and about before too long and some of them will most likely come out of their homes to get a start on the day. Blast the early risers! If only they would all just stay in bed a few extra hours just this one time. Not likely, one can hope but it isn’t likely to happen.
Pippin crouched lower into the holly bushes and felt the tiny points on the leaves dig into his skin. He winced, gritted his teeth and managed not to climb out. Staying put was his only hope of going unnoticed. Uncomfortable as he was, he had no illusions that he would be better off anywhere else at the moment. As miserable as this hiding place was, it was better than no hiding place at all. The sky was starting to lighten ever so slightly now and he was certain that he would never be able to make it from this vicious holly bush to another less painful place of concealment. He was stranded here.
Morning birds began to make their songs heard in the distant trees. Why weren’t those trees closer? Those full, dark, trees with their summer leaves affording lovely shade and many dark locations in which to hide, were too far away from the holly bushes to be reached even at a full-out, heart-pounding, leg-cramping run. Pippin doubted that the fastest hobbit in all of the Shire could run from these wicked holly bushes to those trees without being seen or even worse, without tripping and falling. He shuddered at the thought of falling face down and sprawling on the still damp grass. The morning dew was clinging to everything including his skin. He did not doubt that the grass between the holly bushes and the trees would be slick.
Somewhere off to his right, he heard a door open. The sound was sharp in the early morning air. Someone was awake and already coming outside. Pippin shivered. He didn’t dare raise his head up for a peek. One false move now and he would be better off dead. Dying of embarrassment was not something that he relished. Oh, some days he felt as if it was a fate that he might just as well resign himself to, but other days, like today, he vowed to go out fighting. He slowly reached up and scratched the end of his nose being very careful not to disturb the holly bush.
He heard another door open or maybe it was the same door that he’d heard moments before closing. Anyway, it was a door doing something and it was very near. He didn’t think that he would enjoy living in Hobbiton. The smials were too close to one another and a hobbit just didn’t have any privacy at all! How did Frodo manage? Frodo was not the sort to enjoy having his privacy invaded. In fact, Pippin could remember getting several lectures from Frodo on the value of respecting other folks’ privacy. Frodo was dead keen on privacy so how was it that he was able to tolerate living so close to all of these other smials? Pippin’s leg was cramping from squatting in the same position for so long and he reached back with one hand and rubbed his aching calf muscle.
He heard a dog barking somewhere in the distance and someone shouted a greeting to someone else. Pippin groaned ever so softly and glared over in the direction of Frodo’s back door. Pippin could just see it through the little spaces between the holly leaves. There it was, only yards away and solidly locked. How had he managed to lock the door without meaning to do so? He remembered hearing that nasty little click as he had shut the door on his way out to the privy. He hadn’t thought that the door was actually locking behind him only that it had closed too loudly. He had wondered if he might have disturbed anyone with the noisy door but he had continued on toward the privy, well, at least he had continued on for a step or two. Then something had tugged at his waist and that was when this entire difficulty had started.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Not so loud,” Pippin had hissed at the door as if it might actually hear him. Why did everything have to sound so loud in the middle of the night? Pippin stood still and listened to the crickets for a minute and when he didn’t hear anyone stirring about or threatening his life because he’d made too much noise with the door, Pippin started toward the privy with his lantern in his hand.
He felt a tug at his back as if someone had taken hold of his dressing gown near the waist and was holding him in place. He tuned to see what was the matter only to find that he had closed the door on his dressing gown. Pippin sighed in annoyance, sat the lantern down and reached back to open the door. He twisted the knob but it didn’t yield. He tried it again and still it refused to do anything except rattle. Now, more than a little annoyed, Pippin turned to face the door as best he could with his dressing gown caught and seized the door knob in both hands and pulled frantically. Failing to convince the door to open, Pippin began to tug at his dressing gown only to find that it was securely caught.
Finally, when all maneuvers failed to gain him his release, he stood still and tried to think things over calmly but his need for the privy was making that difficult. He had waited until he could wait no more before tossing on his dressing gown and leaving his comfortable bed to venture out into the dark, humid, night. He had even given thought to just availing himself of the convenience of the chamber pot but he hated the thoughts of emptying it and cleaning it before breakfast and so he had forced himself to get up. Now, he wished that he had considered the chamber pot more favorably.
With his dressing gown clamped tightly in the door and the call of nature growing louder by the minute, Pippin made a rather daring choice. On the farm back at Whitwell this would have been risky and here at Bag End in the far more populated Hobbiton it was an even bigger risk. The only other choice was to bang on the door in the hope of waking Frodo or Merry and stand here in this uncomfortable condition waiting while one of his older cousins found a dressing gown and made his way through the length of Bag End to open the door. Then that cousin would laugh at him for getting into such a predicament and all of his recently hard-earned maturity would dissolve. It didn’t take a genius to see what the only sensible choice was.
Pippin untied the sash of his dressing gown and slid out of it. The air was warm and so he was not uncomfortable as he tiptoed across the garden to the privy in naught but his altogether. He even managed a slight giggle as he wondered why he was tiptoeing. No one was going to hear him making his way across the grass in the dark. Why couldn’t a hobbit just walk normally when undressed? It was something to think about at any rate and it worked as a distraction from his ridiculous situation. As he neared the dark privy, he remembered that he’d left the lantern back beside the kitchen door. That was probably just as well. He knew his way around this privy and would have no trouble in the dark. Besides traipsing naked across the garden with a lantern swinging in his hand would have drawn the attention of anyone who might happen to pass by. He giggled again as he opened the privy door and eased inside.
Upon leaving the tiny building, Pippin inched the door open and peered out into the darkness just to make sure that no one else was on the way to the privy. That would be just the luck. It would be so like Merry to feel the need to come out here just now. Merry would have more reason in fact because his older cousin had drunk more ale at the Dragon than Pippin had. Pippin waited a breath or two and then inched the door open slightly further. That was when the smell of smoke hit him. Forgetting his undressed state, Pippin pushed the door open quickly and looked around for the source of the smell. His eyes went wide with horror as he saw that his dressing gown was draped over the top of the lantern!
Pippin gave a startled squeak and charged toward the smoldering dressing gown. He was minutes from burning down Bag End. If the lantern managed to set the dressing gown ablaze then the fire would go right up the gown to the kitchen door! Pippin stumbled toward the smoke, stubbing his toe and nearly falling. He managed to keep his balance and reach the rain barrel that stood a foot or two from the back door. He pulled the water dipper off of the hook, filled it with water from the barrel, and hurried over to toss the water on his dressing gown. He was rewarded with a loud hiss as the lantern promptly went out enveloping him in darkness.
Pippin leaned against the back door and sighed with relief. That had been far too close for comfort. He had very nearly become the Shire’s first naked arsonist. That was when he remembered that he was naked. He moved slowly over toward the lantern and lifted what remained of his dressing gown off of it. As he picked up the ruined material it fell apart in his hands. He winced. The only portion of the garment that remained undamaged was the part that was closed up in the kitchen door. Well, this was just lovely! Now what?
Pippin bent down so as to be less noticeable and considered his options. He could turn around and knock on the door. It would be dreadfully humiliating. One or both of his cousins would be likely to suggest that it wasn’t safe to allow him to go out to the privy on his own. After they finished laughing at him and finally allowed him in, Frodo would ask about the fire and then Pippin suspected that he would have an escort every time that he felt the need to relieve himself until Frodo got over the fact that Pippin had nearly burned down the smial. This particular option was looking less inviting by the minute.
Tonight at the Green Dragon both of his older cousins had treated him as if he were a grown up which, as far as he was concerned, he very nearly was. He was twenty-three after all and he had been following Frodo and Merry around for most of his life so naturally, he must have picked up a thing or two. In fact, Pippin reasoned, if one were to judge him on his actions and knowledge then most would have to assume that he was at least thirty. He had even paid for a round of drinks with his own money. He had also held fast to the number of drinks that Frodo had set for him before they had left for the Dragon and he suspected that both of his cousins had been pleased with his adult behavior. Neither Frodo nor Merry would remember how mature Pippin had been tonight if they found him outside in this condition. He would once again be nothing more than the youngest in need of looking after. He was not going to spoil the evening by knocking on the door and begging for help. He had managed to get himself into this situation. He would get himself out of it.
It was a risky option, but there was a chance that the front door might be unlocked. Sometimes it was. Most of the time it was but with Merry here it wasn’t likely. Bucklanders, and most especially Brandybucks, tended to lock everything. Still, it was completely dark and terribly late. Pippin could slip out to the front door and give it a try. If it was unlocked he could sneak in, dress and then clean up the mess that he’d made out here. Then tomorrow he wouldn’t have to explain anything to anyone. He liked that option. So, being careful not to make any noise, and he could actually be quiet when he needed to be no matter what anyone said, Pippin made his way around the smial toward the front door. It certainly was a lucky thing that it was so warm out here. Wandering about in the night in nothing but his skin would have been very uncomfortable if the weather hadn’t been so hot and humid the last week or so.
It was because the weather had been so miserable that Pippin had decided to slip between the cool sheets of his bed without anything on but a drowsy smile. He had heard that a great many grown hobbits enjoyed sleeping naked. In fact, his older cousin Berilac claimed that he did so all of the time now. Pippin couldn’t risk trying this at home with three older sisters about, but here at Bag End he didn’t really see the harm in it. He had shut his door and removed his nightshirt and climbed into bed. He had been sleeping soundly until all of those ales that he had drunk at the Green Dragon had made their presence known. Ale had a way leaving the body almost as fast as one could put it in. At any rate Pippin did find the warm weather to be a blessing just now.
He looked about carefully for any witnesses that might be around and when he was sure that he was alone, he walked up to the door and tried to open it. ‘Merry, you ninny hammer!’ Pippin wanted to shout. The door was locked just as he’d been afraid that it might be. He was no better off than he had been a few minutes ago. He was in the same fix just standing in a different location outside of a different locked door. He wasn’t about to panic yet. There might just be an open window or two. After all it had been extremely hot and so surely Frodo had left a window open somewhere in the smial so that he could let in a bit of the night air.
A careful inspection of all of the windows revealed only two open ones, the one in Frodo’s room and the one in Merry’s room. Pippin’s own room didn't have any windows. He slept in one of the inside rooms and so there was no way for him to get back into his room without going through someone else’s. He instantly decided that there was no hope of climbing into Frodo’s room. The window was too high up and Pippin was not about to go looking for something to stand on while stark naked. He was also not going to risk permanent damage to some of his more important body parts by climbing up the side of the smial. Some things were not worth the risk. At the moment he was not at all well protected from injury. He sighed deeply as he managed to glance up into Frodo’s room. All he could see, even standing on his toes, was the shadow of a painting that hung over top of Frodo’s mantle. It was a painting of Merry and Pippin that had been done when Pippin had been twelve. Pippin sighed again. The twelve-year-old lad in that painting would have got a good laugh out of this. The twenty-three-year-old Pippin standing on his toes, naked, outside of the smial was in no mood to laugh just now.
Merry’s window was well within reach but it was only open a few inches and if Pippin were to gain access to the inside using it, he would have to manage to open it a bit more without waking Merry who was snoring softly in the bed just inside the room. Pippin put his hands on the windowsill and peered into the smial wishing desperately that he were safe and sound in his own bed fast asleep and dreaming all of this. He squeezed his eyes shut but when he opened them he was still outside and Merry was stirring a bit. Pippin ducked out of sight and crouched below the window. As he sat there holding his breath and hoping that Merry hadn’t seen him he heard the unmistakable sound of the window being closed and locked.
Pippin groaned. Why did Merry have to lock everything? Now, there was only one open window in Bag End and it was not likely to do Pippin any good at all. He was running out of options. He sank down onto the grass below Merry’s now closed window and tried to reason this entire thing out. Where could he find something to wear? His mind located two possible choices, the Gaffer’s tool shed and Frodo’s barn. There might not be any clothing in the barn but there would probably be a pony blanket or two and naked hobbits that were running out of options could not afford to be too fussy. Pippin gave Merry a few more minutes to go back to sleep and then with a quick glance around he got to his feet and carefully began to make his way toward the Gaffer’s tool shed. He had selected it for his first search simply because it was closer. He had to get out of this mess without being caught or seen. If his mum ever heard this story she would die of embarrassment. Oh, she would make time to kill him first, but she would die of embarrassment as soon as that little job was done. He could hear it all now.
“That poor Eglantine Took! You know that was her lad that they caught lurking about in the dead of the night down there in Hobbiton without a stitch on! Poor Mistress Took! How will she ever show her face in public again now that her only son has shown his, well, has shown everything that he has worth showing to everyone in Hobbiton.”
Pippin winced. Thinking about his mum’s reaction made him think of his father and that was even more distressing. As he hid himself behind Frodo’s large apple tree and listened for any sounds that might mean he was not alone. Pippin pushed the thought of what his father was likely to do to him out of his mind. So far he had considered Frodo’s reaction, Merry’s reaction, his mum’s reaction and had forced himself not to consider his father’s reaction. If everyone who was likely to be upset by this actually found out then Pippin would never live this down. He wondered if anything like this had ever happened to Berilac.
Pippin had decided that he must be cursed. He had not seen Gandalf in some time now but it was still possible that the Wizard had put a curse on him during his last visit and that it was only now beginning to take effect. He did think that he might have annoyed Gandalf with too many questions during that visit but Pippin had been very young at the time. Wizards were quick to anger or so it was said and if anyone could curse him, it would be Gandalf. He became convinced that he was cursed when he found that the shed was locked too!
Now that he thought about it he could remember that Frodo had mentioned something about the Gaffer being forced to start locking the shed. Pippin couldn’t remember exactly why, but at some point much earlier in the evening while he, Merry and Frodo had been at The Green Dragon, Frodo had said something about why the Gaffer was locking the shed. Pippin sighed. It hardly mattered why it was locked. The main point really was that the shed was locked. Now Pippin’s only hope was the barn. Pippin kicked in frustration at the shed’s door and swatted a mosquito that had decided to land on his arm. He quickly moved away from the shed and toward the barn. He didn’t like to think about the damage that mosquitoes might do to him just now. He really did need to find something to cover up with.
He had lost his fear of being seen simply because he was becoming used to being outside in the dark wearing nothing at all. As he neared the barn he yawned and stopped a minute to stretch. It must be terribly late by now. Pippin wondered how long it was until morning. He yawned again and smiled. Whatever there was in the barn that could be worn he would soon be wearing it. He didn’t care if all he found was an empty feed sack or some lass’s old dress. He was putting it on and he would be glad to have it. In fact he might even give himself a minute or two to celebrate his find. Having something, no matter how small, to celebrate would be a most welcome thing indeed after the night that he was having.
As thoughts of his celebration filled his head the sound of someone or something moving around filled his ears and instantly his fear of being seen returned. Pippin dropped to his knees in the grass and looked about trying to spot whoever was out and about at this hour before they managed to spot him. He held his breath as he realized that the noise was coming from inside of Frodo’s barn!
Pippin crawled backwards away from the barn, which he had been so very close to entering just minutes before and hid behind the trunk of the apple tree again. Someone was in the barn. It certainly wasn’t Frodo or Merry. Would the Gaffer or Sam be up at this hour whatever this hour was? Pippin waited and listened as a rather loud whisper came from just inside of the barn. “You really should go now,” a lass’s voice said unconvincingly. She giggled. “Have you any idea what might happen if we’re caught out here like this?”
Pippin swallowed hard. Caught out here like what, he wondered. What were the odds that some lass would be in the barn tonight? Why was she worried about getting caught? He crouched nervously behind the apple tree uncomfortably aware of the tree’s rough bark scraping against his thigh and waited. If he wasn’t cursed then this was just entirely too much bad luck all in one night.
“Nobody’s going to find me here,” a lad’s deep voice whispered. “Your folks are down at the row sound asleep and I don’t answer to anyone.”
“What if Frodo Baggins comes out of his smial and catches us in his barn? He’ll tell my father,” she said knowingly. Pippin found that he was trying to figure out who this lass was but he didn’t recognize her voice as yet. Maybe it was the fact that she was whispering. “Why I’ll just bet that Frodo Baggins knows something already.”
“What makes you say a thing like that?” the lad demanded his voice now slightly louder.
“Well, someone went and locked that shed now didn’t they? Who else would have done that if it weren’t Frodo Baggins?”
That was it! Pippin remembered now! The Gaffer had started locking the shed because things were always moved around when he came out in the mornings to get his gardening tools. Frodo had said that the Gaffer had found food out in the shed, well, apple cores and dried up biscuits and breadcrumbs. Someone was using some of his blankets to- *gasp* There were blankets in that shed!
If these two hobbits hadn’t trespassed in the Gaffer’s shed then it wouldn’t be locked right now and Pippin would be wrapped up in a nice modest blanket at this minute instead of hiding behind a tree swatting mosquitoes that were now biting more than just his arms. Whoever these hobbits were, they were extremely lucky that Pippin wasn’t dressed just now. If he’d had anything on at all, even his favorite scarf, he’d have marched into that barn and given those two a piece of his mind! He smacked a mosquito and heard the palm of his hand make a rather loud slapping noise against his calf. Then he heard the lass say, “What was that?” Her voice was nervous but she wasn’t nearly as nervous as Pippin was right now.
It was one thing to have one of your older cousins see you stranded outside in the dark naked, but it would be quit another thing entirely to be caught by a strange lass and her suitor. Pippin had to find someplace better to hide than this. He was completely exposed, completely, to anyone who might be coming from Bag End and all the two hobbits in the barn had to do was walk outside and approach the apple tree and they would see him, all of him!
“I didn’t hear nothin’. Relax Tulip, you’re lettin’ the fact that the shed was locked worry you too much.”
“All the same, it was never locked before and I did hear a noise, Jody!”
“You stay right here and I’ll have a look see,” the deep voice, which Pippin now knew belonged to Jody, said. That was when a wave of illness hit Pippin hard. He felt his stomach knot up and a large lump seemed to fill his throat. There was nothing he could do but lay down completely flat on the grass and hope that Jody wouldn’t search very far or very near the apple tree. His head was swimming and he felt as if he might be sick at any moment. He wondered if he might be getting grass stain on anything important. He knew from past experience that it wasn’t easy to remove grass stain from skin. Some things should not be green.
Blessedly, it was still extremely dark out and as Jody moved into the garden, Pippin put his arms over his head and tried not to make so much as a tiny sound. He could hear the lad moving around in the grass and it seemed to Pippin as if he must be very near now but Pippin refused to raise his head even a tiny bit to look. He remained frozen in place even when a rather sharp sting let him know that another mosquito had bitten him on his left hip.
“I don’t see nothing out here,” Jody said after what seemed like an eternity to Pippin.
“I still think you ought to go on home before anyone finds us,” Tulip said. Pippin didn’t know what he should hope for just now because he didn’t know which direction would take Jody home. If the lad had to go past this tree then Pippin hoped he was planning on staying for a while. Pippin carefully raised his head just enough so that he could see the barn door. The two hobbits were silhouetted just inside the doors embraced in each other’s arms, snogging as if they’d not seen each other in days. Now might be his only chance! Pippin got carefully to his feet and hurried back in the direction of Bag End running as silently as any hobbit was able to run.
Just as Pippin neared the smial, which he had planned to hide behind, he heard Tulip shout, “I see someone!” Her voice startled Pippin and he tripped and fell and then rolled down a small slope in the garden coming to rest just inches from a cluster of bushes. He could feel the skin being scraped off of his knee but he had bigger problems at the moment.
“Where? Where do you see someone?” Jody’s voice demanded as Pippin hurriedly crawled into the bushes on his hands and knees. Pippin had known immediately that these were not friendly bushes in which one might hide comfortably. As he reached them his skin was assailed by tiny, sharp, leaves and he knew that he was crawling naked into Frodo’s holly bushes but the only alternative was to stay out in the open and make a run for it. Pippin bit back his cries of pain and crawled quickly and completely into the wicked holly bushes.
He had been here ever since. Jody, at the insistence of the rather bossy Tulip, had searched the garden for what had seemed like ages to Pippin. On at least two occasions Jody had actually come close to finding Pippin but he had walked right by the holly bushes. Pippin supposed that Jody didn’t think there would be any possible way that anyone would crawl into a group of holly bushes. Jody didn’t know just how desperate Pippin’s situation was at that moment. Finally the lad had quit searching but once he had given up on finding Pippin, Tulip had come out of the barn and the two of them had argued in low tones about everything including how she didn’t think that he believed her when she had said she’d heard someone, about when he should and shouldn’t leave, about what Frodo might or might not know that had made him lock the shed and then there was a long boring bit about the lass that Jody used to court before he’d begun to see Tulip.
All during this ongoing tirade, Pippin had been forced to crouch in the holly bushes. The only good thing that Pippin could find to say about the bushes just now was that they were nice full, thick bushes and good for concealment even if they were painful to the skin. He was uncomfortable but he was in no danger of being seen. If this truly was some sort of a curse then it was an inspired one. Pippin was discovering first hand that there was nothing so miserable as hiding in a holly bush.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jody had gone home a while ago and then Tulip had stood by the apple tree for a while and cried. They had not parted on friendly terms. In spite of the fact that Tulip was pretty, Pippin had decided that Jody was better off. Tulip was entirely too bossy. Finally, just as it had been threatening to become morning in all its glory, Tulip had left and that had left Pippin with no time to escape the holly bushes without serious risk of discovery. Traipsing about in the dark of night naked was one thing, but Pippin was not about to go out in the open with the sun coming up. He cursed under his breath and listened to his stomach grumble. He was tired, scratched, scraped, bitten, humiliated and now he could include hungry on his list of complaints. Frodo would be up before long and in the kitchen starting first breakfast. Pippin was going to starve to death out here in these dreadful bushes.
There was more noise and Pippin peeked out through the holly leaves and tiny red berries which, sadly, were not edible and saw Sam Gamgee and his younger sister Marigold unlocking the Gaffer’s shed. If Sam had been alone Pippin might have risked calling out to him, but there was nothing that could convince him to draw attention to himself with Sam’s rather attractive younger sister within sight. Just lately, Pippin had started to notice that quite a few of the young lasses in the Shire were attractive but this was hardly the time to think about that. His stomach growled again. He continued to watch as Sam got the Gaffer’s wheelbarrow and some of his tools out of the shed. Pippin gulped. He did hope that Sam wasn’t planning on trimming the holly bushes today.
“Morning, Sam. Good morning, Marigold!”
Pippin lost his balance and sat down hard on the ground amid dozens of pointed little holly leaves and twigs. He bit the back of his hand in an effort not to cry out and heard Sam and Marigold greeting Merry. Good morning indeed! It wasn’t a good morning at all as far as Pippin was concerned.
“Planning on working in the garden, Sam?” Merry asked. He was standing just outside of the kitchen door fully dressed. Merry looked as if he were expecting company or something. Never mind that Merry’s trousers looked neatly pressed or that his waistcoat matched perfectly. Merry was dressed! Oh, how Pippin envied that!
“The Gaffer asked me to fetch his tools so’s he can get an early start on the weedin’ after he’s finished his breakfast,” Sam said pleasantly. “I’m goin’ into Hobbiton with Marigold to do a bit of shoppin.”
“Sure you two don’t want to wait around and have breakfast with us?” Merry invited. “Frodo is making eggs and frying bacon even as we speak.”
Pippin wanted bacon. He would kill for some bacon about now. He was more than willing to give himself up and call Merry over and ask for help but not with Marigold standing there. He would have to stay put until she left and she wasn’t hurrying any. She was just standing beside Sam and smiling at Merry the way lasses did. Lasses liked Merry.
“What in all of wonder is this?” Merry said more to himself than to anyone else. He bent over and picked up what was left of Pippin’s dressing gown. Pippin supposed that it must have fallen out of the doorjamb when Merry came outside. Pippin could see Merry examining the remains of his dressing gown intently.
“What’s wrong, Mister Merry?” Marigold asked.
“I’m sure I don’t have the slightest idea,” Merry said as she approached him. “This was just lying here near the door.” He held up the piece of blue cloth in his hands and showed it to her. “This looks burnt.”
Pippin squeezed his eyes shut. It wouldn’t take Merry long to realize what he was holding. Pippin wondered what would happen.
Marigold and Sam were both standing with Merry now. Sam looked down at the ground and pointed. “I think someone might ‘a got careless with a lantern,” he offered.
‘I was not careless,’ Pippin wanted to shout but he wasn’t entirely certain that this was true. It had been careless of him to let the dressing gown fall over the lantern. He scratched at one of his many mosquito bites that were now beginning to itch fiercely and listened.
“Maybe whoever has been getting’ into the shed left that behind,” Marigold guessed. “Our papa has been terribly upset about that business.”
“Could be,” Sam nodded. “But this looks as if it’s one ‘o Mister Frodo’s lanterns so if it was the prowler then the sneak thief has gone and taken Mister Frodo’s lantern.” Sam looked particularly annoyed by this development.
Merry frowned. “This piece of material is starting to look familiar to me,” Merry said. He wrinkled his forehead a bit the way he did when he was trying to work something out and Pippin held his breath.
“Do you know who it belongs to, Mister Merry?” Marigold asked sounding excited. “If you do then it might help to catch the prowler.”
“I might,” Merry said and he began to look around as if searching for something. Pippin was quite sure that Merry knew to whom the dressing gown belonged. The question was, what would Merry decide to do now? If he decided to search the garden for Pippin then Sam and Marigold would probably volunteer to help. Once again, a wave of illness hit Pippin. Pippin would die right here in these hateful bushes if Marigold Gamgee saw him naked. It was a very good thing that his stomach was empty right now or he was certain that he would vomit.
Sam had bent down and was examining the lantern or that was how it seemed to Pippin from his current vantage point. As he tired to get a better look one of the holly leaves scratched him on the cheek. He’d been scraped and scratched so many times that he wondered why he hadn’t bled to death!
“Sam, you didn’t see anyone out near the barn as you and Marigold walked over here from the Row did you?” Merry asked. It looked to Pippin as if Merry was grinning a bit now. That couldn’t be good in any way. Merry was at his most dangerous when he was smiling like that.
“Marigold and me walked right by it but we didn’t go in,” Sam said. “You want me to have a look in there now?”
“Have a look for what?” Hamfast Gamgee asked as he came toward the others. Pippin groaned when he saw who was with the Gaffer. It was Mistress Goodbody, the biggest gossip in all the Shire. Pippin’s mum had always said that if Mistress Goodbody knew something, she couldn’t wait to tell it and if she didn’t know it, she’d make it up! What was this? Was it some sort of breakfast lawn party? Every single time that Pippin was outside and less than properly dressed a crowd gathered.
He remembered waking up in nothing but his small clothes in the Brandybuck’s garden once during an outdoor breakfast. That had been embarrassing enough but now, he would be glad to be wearing his small clothes. Why couldn’t Marigold and Mistress Goodbody go away so he could get out of this blasted holly bush? It would be wonderful if the Gaffer would go with them as well. Pippin liked the Gaffer very much but if anyone could out-distance Mistress Goodbody in the gossip department it was the Gaffer!
“Good morning, Gaffer,” Merry said with a smile. “I was just asking Sam if he or Marigold had seen anyone near Frodo’s barn this morning. It seems we have a mystery on our hands.”
Better that then mosquito bites on your bum, Pippin thought in annoyance. It seems that everyone was having a fine time just chatting away while his legs were cramping up and his stomach was beginning to feel so empty that it was most likely sticking to his backbone. Also the sun was fully up now and though it made no sense at all, Pippin was starting to feel uncommonly warm. He had on far less than he normally did when out of doors and so he could only assume that the holly bush was holding in the heat.
“What sort o’ mystery is it?” Hamfast asked.
“Well, Papa,” Marigold said pointing to the lantern. “We may have found more evidence ‘o your garden shed prowler.”
Hamfast bent over and squinted at the lantern. “I locked that shed,” he said sounding angry. “If anyone’s been in it, then they broke in and you can be sure that I’ll be callin’ on the shirriffs!”
That was just about all Pippin needed about now. He would never get out of this mess if the shirriffs turned up here to look for prowlers. He might just as well stand up now and get it over with. He wiped a bead of sweat off of the end of his nose with one hand and pulled a twig out from underneath his sore bottom with the other.
“No one broke into the shed, Gaffer,” Sam assured him. “It was locked up tight when Marigold and me got here. It’s only that Mister Merry’s found this lantern out here along with some burnt cloth. Someone might have been prowlin’ around Mister Frodo’s smial last night.”
“Oh, save us!” Mistress Goodbody said, putting a chubby hand to her lips. “You don’t suppose that there are thieves about do you? I mean imagine what might happen if someone is actually going about in the night and trying to rob folks right here in Hobbiton!” She looked knowingly at the Gaffer. “You best keep an eye on your smial, Hamfast. It’s a good thing that my daughter, Tulip was safe in her bad last night and that she isn’t allowed out after dark. The prowler might harm a lass out after dark alone.”
“Oh, I doubt it’s as serious as all that,” Merry said evenly.
“This isn’t Buckland, you know,” she frowned at him putting her hands on her wide hips. “We folks here in Hobbiton aren’t used to locking our doors at night. This is a peaceful place. We don’t have all of the strange goings on that your folk seem willing to tolerate over across the water!”
Yes, well Pippin knew of at least three doors right here in Hobbiton that had been locked last night. He wasn’t likely to forget it any time soon as it had caused him a great deal of misery. Mistress Goodbody was also wrong about the peaceful part and wrong about where her darling Tulip had been last night. If she’d heard Tulip and Jody arguing last night she would know that not everyone in Hobbiton is peaceful.
“Whoever left this lantern out here could ‘o burned Mister Baggins’s place down,” Hamfast said looking at the burnt cloth in Merry’s hand and then at the lantern.
“He could have at that,” Merry said and Pippin felt as if Merry knew exactly who had left the lantern there. He felt his face grow hot with embarrassment.
“I’d fetch a shirriff if I were you, lad,” Mistress Goodbody said sternly.
“Fetch a shirriff for what?” Frodo asked as he opened the kitchen door and stuck out his head. “Is there something wrong, Merry?”
Pippin put his head against his knees and moaned softly. Now, they were going to have to start explaining all over again! He sat there with his head down for a while and didn’t bother listening to the endless chatter. He only caught snatches of it like, “We could all find ourselves burglarized!” and “Eggs will be getting cold if we don’t go eat them soon.” and “If that burglar gets into my shed again I’ll make him regret it!” He was starting to feel drowsy from being up for most of the night. In fact he might have dropped off to sleep for a while and so he was surprised when he heard his name.
“Pippin? Pip, where are you?”
It was Merry’s voice. He raised his head and peered through the holly leaves toward Bag End. He could see Sam and Merry but he didn’t see anyone else just now. He didn’t remember the others leaving. He wondered if he dared to say anything or if everyone else was still standing around just out of sight.
“Come on, Pip,” Merry said pleasantly.
Sam was shaking his head and looking at Merry. “I don’t know why you figure this has anythin’ to do with Mister Pippin,” Sam said.
Merry smiled at Sam. “After a while you just know these thing, Sam.”
Frodo came out of the back door carrying something that Pippin couldn’t quite make out and looked around. “Have you tried the barn or maybe the privy?”
“Not yet,” Merry said. “I was just waiting for you.”
“Well, I suggest we look inside of the buildings since those would afford the best cover.” Frodo grinned as he said this and Merry chuckled.
Sam looked puzzled. Pippin could tell that Sam wasn’t sure what the other two found funny.
Not wanting to be heard but hoping that Merry or Frodo might notice him, Pippin raised an arm up through the holly and waved his hand. He felt the nasty little leaves of the evil plant scrape his arm as he poked it out through the top of the bush but it hardly mattered now. He had to get out of here and if everyone went off toward the barn to look for him then he’d have to wait until they came back this way. He waved his hand frantically for a minute and then pulled it back down into the bushes. If Merry hadn’t seen him he couldn’t risk anyone else seeing him. He had no notion where Marigold, Mistress Goodbody, or the Gaffer might be now.
“Good idea, Cousin,” Merry was saying. “Why don’t we split up and I-“
Sam interrupted by reaching over and tapping Merry on the shoulder. He pointed out toward the holly bushes. “Mister Merry, I think that the holly bush just waved to you,” Sam said with amusement.
“The holly bush?” Frodo said looking pained at the mere thought of this.
“Pippin?” Merry called as he and Frodo and Sam started over toward Pippin’s hiding place.
Pippin could feel his face going as red as the tiny inedible berries on the bushes but he couldn’t stay in here any longer. “Over here,” he croaked and reached his hand back up so there would be no mistake.
Merry laughed just as Pippin had known he would and Frodo was grinning. Sam wasn’t sure what the joke was yet but he was following along. As the three of them reached the bushes, they stopped and Merry said, “I’m guessing that you are a bit short on clothing just now, Pip. Am I right?”
“Yes,” Pippin said just above a whisper. It had been a mistake to mention to Merry that he might try sleeping naked. Why couldn’t he ever keep his mouth shut?
“So getting up and coming out of there isn’t something that you can do right now is it?” Merry smirked.
“It isn’t funny, Meriadoc!” Pippin said irritated. Merry was enjoying this entirely too much. “And how do you know anyway?”
“Frodo noticed your nightshirt in the floor of your room when he went to call you to breakfast,” Merry said. “Then I found what was left of your dressing gown outside. Besides, you did say something about sleeping naked since it was so hot.”
“I have other clothing you know,” Pippin said frustrated.
“Are you wearing any of that other clothing now?” Frodo asked as Merry dissolved into a fit of giggles and Sam’s eyes widened.
“Well, no, but I could have been!” Pippin shouted. “I hardly think that it is at all fair of you to assume that I don’t have anything on from such flimsy evidence as you have.”
“You’re forgetting the largest piece of evidence,” Merry said.
“What’s that?” Pippin demanded.
“Well, I can’t think of any good reason to sit inside of a holly bush unless you don’t have any choice in the matter,” Merry said pleasantly.
“You mean he ain’t got nothin’ on?” Sam said looking amazed.
“Not a stitch,” Frodo said.
“Just get me something to put on and get me out of here,” Pippin moaned. “You can tease me after. I’m tired and my legs are cramping and half of the mosquitoes in the Shire feasted on me as if I were the buffet table at a birthday party and these horrible bushes have scraped half of my skin off!” As an afterthought Pippin said in a rather pitiful tone, “I’m hungry.”
“Well if this don’t beat all,” Sam said shaking his head.
Frodo held out his own dressing gown, which he had been carrying and then frowned. “I’m not sure how to go about this, Pippin,” he admitted. “I don’t think this will be easy to push down into the bushes and I can’t see how you will manage to put it on while in there.”
Pippin looked upward at the thick covering of holly leaves and shivered at the thought of just standing up and allowing all of those nasty little stickers to rake against his, well, against everything. The only way out was the way he’d got in to begin with and that was to crawl out. “I’m not wearing anything,” he said mournfully. “If I crawl out then you’ll be able to see me.”
“We’ve seen you naked before,” Merry said snorting.
“Not lately,” Pippin objected.
“Why don’t we all turn our backs and I will lay the dressing gown on the ground within reach?” Frodo suggested not able to keep the amusement out of his voice. “You can crawl out and put it on. No one will see anything.”
“All right,” Pippin said. “But don’t turn around until I say.” Pippin was convinced that if things of this sort insisted on happening to him he would likely have no dignity left before long. As it was now, there would be precious little to go around at this rate. He was using up his dignity with little hope of regaining it any time soon.

Frodo placed the dressing gown on the grass in front of the holly bushes and then rose to turn and face Bag End along with Merry who was shaking with silent laughter and Sam who was chuckling a bit. Once he was satisfied that none of them were looking, Pippin crawled out and quickly wrapped the dressing gown around himself then fumbled with the sleeves. He finally managed to get it on properly and to tie it about his waist. Embarrassed, but ever so grateful to be out of those bushes, Pippin stood and began walking toward Bag End with his head down. He couldn’t look at either of his cousins just now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Having had a bath, Pippin had put an ointment that Frodo had given him on his numerous mosquito bites and countless scratches and dressed in a loose pair of trousers and a shirt. He was currently sitting in Frodo’s favorite armchair finishing off his third helping of everything and avoiding eye contact with both of his cousins. Sam, being very thoughtful as always, had left so as to make things a tiny bit less embarrassing. To their credit, Merry and Frodo had not questioned Pippin too much about his evening out and neither of them had given him a fire safety lecture but Pippin still couldn’t meet their eyes without blushing. Finally, Frodo broke the uncomfortable silence just as Pippin finished eating.
“Why exactly were you sleeping naked, Pippin?” Frodo asked.
“It was hot,” Pippin said weakly.
“It wasn’t that hot,” Frodo said gently.
“It was hot enough,” Pippin said. “Anyway, I can’t sleep naked at home because someone is forever barging into my room unannounced. They all think that just because I used to do that to them when I was younger that they can do it to me.”
“Your sisters are getting even with you for having invaded their privacy all those years,” Merry said.
“I was just a child then and I didn’t know any better,” Pippin said looking at his toes. The one that he had stubbed was turning slightly bluish. “They know perfectly well what they’re doing.” He sighed. “But I don’t dare to sleep without anything on at home.”
“But you will risk it here,” Frodo said smiling.
“Well, you and Merry knock,” Pippin said. “And there aren’t any lasses living here so it’s safer.”
“After your recent experience, you might want to reconsider that a bit,” Frodo suggested.
“Berilac says that he sleeps that way all summer long,” Pippin said in an effort to justify his experiment.
Merry snorted. “When are you going to learn that Berilac enjoys lying to you, Pip? In fact he would enjoy knowing exactly how successful his lie had been this time. I can just hear him having a good, long, laugh over this.”
“You aren’t going to tell anyone about this are you?” Pippin asked nervously. “Either of you?”
“Who would believe it?” Merry asked. “Besides, I don’t relish the idea of making Berilac that happy. He’s insufferable when he’s happy.”
“No, we aren’t going to tell,” Frodo assured him with a warning glance at Merry. “Now why don’t you go lie down for a while and get some rest?"
Pippin stood and scratched at the seat of his trousers and yawned. “Maybe I will take a nap,” he said. Pippin shuffled out of the parlor sleepily hearing both of his older cousins chuckling behind him.
He was a bit itchy for several days and sometimes Merry would just look over at him and laugh but other than that the experience went largely un-remarked upon. Sam acted as if it had never happened which suited Pippin just fine.
The one lasting sore spot of it all was that every time Frodo or Merry saw a holly bush anywhere while Pippin was around one of them would say, “Oh, look Pippin. Isn’t that a lovely Pip-berry-bush?” Mercifully, if asked what the joke might be by anyone, both of Pippin’s older cousins simply shrugged and changed the subject while Pippin blushed as red as any of the holly berries. They enjoyed tormenting Pippin in this way but they didn’t embarrass him in front of other folks by telling the entire story. Considering what might have happened it was a small price to pay. Pippin found it very annoying that the Shire seemed to be filled with Pip-berry-bushes.

The End

G.W. 11/20/2005

Merry's Grandmother by Grey Wonderer
Merry gets to know his Grandmother Took...

These are not my characters. They belong to J. R. R. Tolkien. He created them for us to enjoy and I am just borrowing them.

Challenge 17: Use the following starter sentence; There hadn’t been such a festive day in those parts in living memory.
Characters should be, Merry, his grandmother Took and an elf.

Rated: G
Characters: Merry age 27, Pippin age 19, and Grandmother Took age 112.
Written by: Grey_Wonderer
Beta by: Marigold
Title: “Merry’s Grandmother”

There hadn’t been such a festive day in those parts in living memory. Never mind that the guest of honor had not yet arrived. Never mind that Esmeralda Brandybuck, who was in charge of it all, was running about trying to see to everything at once. Never mind that poor Saradoc Brandybuck was nearly worn out from making arrangements, moving tables, shaking hands with half of the Shire, and explaining that the guest of honor would be arriving shortly. Never mind that all of the Great Hall’s guest rooms were full to over-flowing. None of that mattered because there was plenty of food, plenty of ale, and plenty of lively music for dancing. Everyone on the other side of the river might think of the Brandybucks as a queer lot, but no one ever said a word against their parties. The Brandybucks knew how to throw a party, no mistake.

As Saradoc tapped another keg of ale for the guests, his wife approached him, wiping her hands on her apron, a strand of her hair in her eyes, and spoke in a whisper. “Where do you suppose that they are? It’s getting late.”

********************

“Oh, Merry doesn’t mind at all, do you dear?” Merry remembered his mum saying that morning at first breakfast. She hadn’t asked Merry if he would mind. Merry was very sure of that fact. If he had been asked, then he would have told her that he minded very much indeed. He was annoyed with the entire chain of events. He was annoyed with his mum, he was annoyed with his mum’s family, he was annoyed with his father, and he was annoyed with his grandmother. Just now, as he sat in the dirt by the side of the road trying to straighten the metal rim of the fancy carriage wheel, he was most annoyed with his younger cousin, Pippin.

Pippin was pacing back and forth making suggestions and chattering endlessly. “Maybe I could get a larger stone,” Pippin said. “Maybe if we put the rim of the wheel down upon it and then one of us brought another stone down on top of it-“

“One of us might smash the other one’s fingers,” Merry said, curtly. ‘That’s a wonderful idea, Pippin. It’s almost as good as your suggestion that we jump up and down on the rim, or maybe it’s as grand a suggestion as the one you made before that. What was it? Something about letting the pony stand on the rim, I believe?”

“I’m only trying to help,” Pippin said, clearly insulted, but Merry didn’t care just now. He raised the rim of the wheel on its end and stared at it trying to see if anything he’d done to this point had worked.

“You should be grateful for a bit of help,” Pippin muttered. “If I hadn’t waited behind with you, then you and Gram would be here all alone, you know.”

“Fine,” Merry said, getting to his feet and thrusting the heavy wheel into Pippin’s hands. “Fix it!” He stalked off toward the trees where the ponies were tied.

“I will!” Pippin said, looking uncertainly at the wheel in his hands and wishing that he’d kept his mouth shut. Why couldn’t he ever just keep his mouth shut? He didn’t have any idea how to fix this carriage wheel. He was used to wooden wheels, not this sort of fancy kind of wheel with a metal rim and tiny spokes. He looked over toward Merry and sighed. He wasn’t sure which would be worse, taking the wheel over and admitting that he didn’t know what he was doing, or standing here like an idiot and trying to fix it. From the set of Merry’s shoulders, he decided that looking like an idiot and trying to fix the wheel would be best for now. Merry was in a very bad mood and Pippin was already on his older cousin’s bad side, though he wasn’t sure how he’d got there this time.

Pippin looked over at his grandmother who was sitting in a rocker under a shade tree. She looked as if she were napping. Pippin sighed and looked back at the wheel. If only they had some tools with them. His Gram had thought to have someone secure her favorite rocking chair to the back of the wagon, but had not thought to bring along a spare carriage wheel or any tools. Someone should have seen to it that Gram’s carriage was better supplied, but no one had. Now, he and Merry and Gram were out here on the road to Buckland with a three-wheeled carriage and no tools.

“Give me that,” Merry growled, coming up behind Pippin and reaching for the wheel.

Startled, Pippin turned and looked at Merry who was holding the reins of one of the ponies in his hand. “What are you going to do with the pony, Merry?” Pippin asked, giving the wheel to Merry.

“Nothing,” Merry said, taking the wheel and giving Pippin the pony’s reins. Pippin stood there while Merry leaned the wheel against the ridiculous carriage and waited.

“Merry, I’m sorry, I only meant to help,” Pippin began as Merry turned back to him.

“I know,” Merry said. “And now you’re going to get your chance.”

“How?” Pippin asked, brightening.

“You are going to get on this pony and ride to the Hall and tell my father what has happened,” Merry said. “I will stay here with our Grandmother and this excuse for a wagon.” Merry didn’t think much of the fancy little carriage with the covered top and padded seats. It just wasn’t practical.

Pippin looked uncertainly at the pony and then over at Merry. “Are you sure?” he asked. “You trust me to do this? You’re going to let me ride?”

“I may be daft, but I trust you to do this,” Merry said. “Just don’t fall off of that pony Peregrin Took, do you hear me?”

“I won’t fall off, Merry,” Pippin said, straightening. “I hardly ever fall off anymore. I’m getting ever so much better at riding.”

“Yes, I think it’s been nearly two weeks since the last time that you landed on your backside,” Merry said, dryly.

“That was your pony what threw me,” Pippin said, tartly. “He doesn’t much like me and he tosses me for sport, I think.”

“Well, all the same,” Merry said. “Be careful and try to stay on this pony. Don’t go too fast and hang on to the reins. Keep your eyes on the road and keep the pony on the road. No short-cuts, Pippin.”

“I’ll be fine,” Pippin said, hoping that Merry wasn’t about to change his mind.

“Now there’s no saddle on this pony, so you’ll need to keep your knees in tight against her sides,” Merry said, boosting Pippin onto the pony’s back.

“I’ve ridden without a saddle plenty of times,” Pippin said, becoming annoyed with all of Merry’s fussing. “When we plow the fields, I ride the plow pony all the time.”

“This is not a plow pony and it isn’t used to being ridden,” Merry said, sternly, looking up at Pippin. “Don’t fall. You hear me?”

“I won’t,” Pippin said in an exasperated tone.

“I’ll keep working on the carriage wheel while you’re gone,” Merry said. “Maybe I’ll get it fixed, but without the proper tools I doubt it. Now, get going and do be careful.”

Pippin nodded and turned the pony onto the road and set off with Merry watching until he was out of sight.

“So, you’ve sent for help, have you?” his grandmother’s voice said, from behind him.

Merry turned and walked over to her rocker and knelt down on the grass next to it. “There wasn’t anything else left to do,” Merry said. “I can’t fix that wheel without any tools. You don’t even have a hammer in your carriage, Grandmother Took.”

“Well, I’ve never needed one before,” she said, adjusting her skirt a bit. “I don’t recall a thing like this happening with my carriage before. I suspect that you hit a rock with that wheel. You were going a bit too fast, you know. I believe that I told you to slow down just before you bent my wheel.”

Merry swallowed his anger, or tried to, and replied. “I was trying to get you to your birthday celebration on time. Since we didn’t leave at the scheduled time, I was trying to catch us up to the others so that you wouldn’t miss your own party,” Merry said, keeping his voice even. He wanted to shout at her, but he didn’t dare. This was his grandmother on his mum’s side and he didn’t know her well enough to shout at her. Pippin knew her well enough, but Merry had not spent much time with her at all. In fact, he wouldn’t be spending time with her now if his own mum hadn’t volunteered him to drive Grandmother Took’s carriage for her.

His grandmother had not felt like leaving the Inn after first breakfast and had decided to wait until after second breakfast to leave for Buckland. Merry and his parents had travelled to the Great Smials to visit with Grandmother Took a week ago. In spite of the fact that they had been there all week, Merry had not spent any time alone with her. He had taken off with his cousins and had spent most of his time outside with the other lads. His mum had a huge birthday party planned back in Buckland for his grandmother and so they were taking her there for a few weeks. Merry could not remember the last time that Grandmother Took had visited Buckland.

They had spent the night at an Inn on the way so that the trip from the Great Smials in Tuckborough to Brandy Hall in Buckland would not be so hard on his grandmother who was soon to be one hundred and twelve. Everyone else needed to hurry ahead so that they could begin the party preparations and so Merry had been left with his grandmother. Pippin, who had ridden along with them, had quickly begun to beg to stay with Merry. Not wanting to be alone with his grandmother, Merry had helped Pippin talk the adults into allowing this.

“This is the sort of thing that comes from getting in too big a hurry, lad,” she said. “It’s no good rushing about like a chicken with its head cut off.”

“Most carriages have tools and spare wheels in case of emergencies,” Merry said, stiffly. “Your carriage doesn’t.”

“Never needed those things,” she said, stubbornly.

“That’s why they call them emergency supplies,” Merry said. “You have them in the event that something of this sort happens. It’s proper planning.”

“I don’t do the planning anymore,” she said, a bit softer. “Everyone else plans things out for me and I just go along with it all. It’s what they do to you when you get on in years. Other folks plan for you and you sit back and allow it.”

Merry frowned. “Well, it is your carriage,” he said.

“It is,” she said. “Your grandfather bought it for me. He had it built somewhere outside of the Shire and brought here special so I wouldn’t have to travel about on a pony after my leg was broken. Blasted thing never healed properly and so I can’t ride anymore. Your grandfather wanted me to have that carriage and so I have it. It was too grand for a farmer and his wife, but he bought it all the same and it cost him dearly.”

“That was nice of him,” Merry said, interested. “I didn’t know that you’d ever broken your leg.”

“It happened a long time ago,” she said. “You weren’t born yet. Your mother was just married to your father and all of the others were grown or gone from the farm by then. It was just your grandfather and I there alone with some of the help that worked the fields for us. I had hoped that one of my children would live nearby, but at that time, none of them did. Even Paladin was off then. He was working on some farms for the Thain at the time. It was good money and he was trying to keep those lasses of his fed and clothed and so he went to where the money was. He had Pearl then and Pimpernel was a tiny babe at that time. Eglantine was always ill, bless her, and so she was no help. This was just before we gave the farm to Paladin and moved up to the Great Smials. Part of the reason we did that was because of my leg. I wasn’t up to doing my share of the farm work for quite a long while.”

“I didn’t know that,” Merry said. He really should be over by the carriage working on the wheel, but he’d never heard this story before. He’d never had much chance to talk with his grandmother Took and so he’d not heard any of her stories really.

She was quiet for so long that Merry thought that she might not say anything more, but just as he was about to get up, she began again. “I was out in the barn feeding the ponies when it happened,” she said. “I was just finishing putting the oats in the trough when I heard something up in the loft. It startled me because I knew that everyone else was out in the fields just then. We had a couple of old barn cats but the noise was too loud to have been one of them. Well, there was no one to check on it but me and I was a right bit younger than I am now,” she said. “When you’re young, you don’t think about what might happen to you, you just go on and do things as if there aren’t any consequences at all. I was old enough to know better then that, but I was impulsive. Peregrin might just get that from me.”

Merry smiled. “He gets it from someone,” he agreed.

“Well, up that ladder to the loft I went without a thought as to what might be up there,” she said shaking her head and sighing. “I bought myself quite a bit of trouble that day with my actions.” She reached down and rubbed her leg through her skirt. “I’d no more than topped the ladder than I spied him. I’d never seen anything like him in all my life and I never have again.”

“What did you see?” Merry asked, eyes wide with interest. He hadn’t known that he could be interested in anything that his Grandmother Took might have to say. He’d been dreading spending time alone with her and had nearly left Pippin here with her and ridden for help himself just to avoid that very thing. When his mum had suggested that he stay behind and drive his grandmother’s carriage to Buckland today, he had dreaded that too. His grandmother was always so prim and proper. She always made him feel self-conscious whenever he was around her. He’d never spent much time with her and so he had never become close to her. When the carriage wheel had bent, he had figured this was going to be another experience that he’d rather forget, but now, all of the sudden; he found that he was enjoying her company. He sat at her feet on the grass by the rocker and listened like a small child might.

“Well, now when I tell this part of it, you’ll likely think that I’m a crazy old lass who’s lost her mind,” she said, looking intently at him. “But, I’ll risk that. Just don’t mention this one to your mum because she’s never believed a word of it. She and your grandfather thought that it all came from the knock on the head that I got in the same fall that broke my leg, but I’ll always believe that I saw what I saw.”

“I won’t tell,” Merry said, interested to hear what it was that his mother had not believed.

“Well, I was holding tight to the ladder at the top and there he stood, looking back at me,” she said. “He was frightened too, I believe, because he gasped and stood up quickly. He was taller than anyone I’d ever seen and right off I suspected that he was one of the big folk, but he wasn’t.” She smiled. “He had long, straight, golden hair and the most perfect skin that I’ve ever seen. His eyes were as blue as the sky. He was dressed in brown and he moved so fast and so sure of foot. I was startled to see him coming toward me and that’s when I fell.” She shifted a bit in her chair and looked down at Merry. “You see, I didn’t know exactly what he was and I had no way of knowing that he wouldn’t hurt me. He was coming toward me and I was frightened. I meant to climb down that ladder as fast as I could and go for help, but my foot got tangled up in my skirt and I fell. I saw him reach for me, but he was too far away to catch me in time.”

“What was he?’ Merry asked, curiously.

“Well, now don’t laugh, but I think he was one of the fair folk,” she said, eyeing Merry and waiting for his response.

“An elf?” Merry asked, amazed.

“One of them, I suspect,” she said. “He had a light about him and he was so beautiful. I was frightened but it made me feel such pleasure inside just to look upon him.”

“What happened then?” Merry asked.

“Well, I don’t remember hitting the ground, but I know that I did,” she said. “When I woke up, I was lying on the floor of the barn and everything hurt. I was wrapped in a brown stable blanket that he must have put over me and there he was standing there and looking down at me.”

“He stayed?” Merry asked.

“Oh, yes,” she answered. “One of the fair folk would stay, Meriadoc. They’d not leave someone injured alone. I got the impression that this one felt guilty about my accident. He thought it was his fault that I’d fallen. He leaned over me and spoke quietly, but I have no idea what he might have said to me. I do know that it was a very pretty language. It sounded like music but he wasn’t singing, he was only talking. I suspect that he was trying to comfort me in his way. He had a very kind face and the only eyes that I’ve ever seen that come close to matching his are those of your cousin, Frodo Baggins. The fair one’s eyes were that very shade of blue.”

‘Did you try to speak to him?” Merry asked.

“I did try, but I was in such pain that I could barely stand it,” she said. “Besides, he wouldn’t have understood me either. I only looked at him while he stroked my hair and talked to me in that strange language. Later, I tried to remember what it was that he had said so I might tell it to Bilbo Baggins. I knew if anyone would know what the elf was saying it would be Bilbo, but I couldn’t remember a word of it.” She smiled and reached into her pocket and pulled out a thin chain with a small, blue crystal on the end of it. “He put this into my apron pocket, or at least, I believe that he did.” She held it up for Merry to see.

“That’s beautiful,” Merry said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Nor have I,” she agreed. “When I woke up later, I was in my own bed. I was in and out of consciousness for days and most of the time I was under the effects of some pain draught or a sleeping draught and so it was very hard to think clearly. It was several weeks before I was allowed to sit up and was able to ask and answer questions. Seems that I almost died from the fall. My leg was nearly ruined and it was over a year before I could walk on my own again. I still limp and when the weather turns damp, I might just as well stay in bed. The knee swells and I can’t put any weight on it. I was lucky that I healed as well as I did. It was quite a fall and the healer said that I should have died. I believe that the elf must have done something to help, though I can’t say what that might have been.”

“Did you tell them all about the elf?” Merry asked, still looking at the bright blue crystal.

“I told your mum, your grandfather, and poor, sensible, Paladin,” she chuckled. Her eyes looked far away as if remembering it all. “Paladin thought I had completely lost my mind. That little snip of a lad of his is so different from Paladin that I can hardly believe that Peregrin is his sometimes.” She smiled and shook her head. “Peregrin would have believed me, but Paladin simply couldn’t and neither could my dear husband. Now, I sometimes think that your mum believed it, but I doubt that she’d admit it. So, after a time I just didn’t speak of it. Years later, I told it to Bilbo and he believed every word.”

Merry grinned. “Bilbo’s talked to the elves and he knows what they are like. I am sure it wasn’t hard at all for him to believe you.”

“I took comfort in that,” she agreed. “Bilbo made me feel less foolish about it all.”

“But didn’t they believe you when you showed them the crystal?” Merry asked. “Surely that made them believe at least a little bit.”

“It might have, but I never showed them the crystal,” she said. “I didn’t find it until much later. It was in my apron pocket and when I came to, I was in my night gown and in bed. I didn’t find it until I was able to hobble about a bit on crutches. My apron was folded neatly and laying on a chair near my bed. I suspect that your mum folded it and never bothered to look in the pockets. If she saw it, she never mentioned it. It was nearly six months after my fall that I found it and by then I had made up my mind not to discuss my elf with any of them.” She looked proud and stubborn when she said this and Merry could see a trace of his own mum in her. “I showed it to Bilbo after I’d told him my story, but no one else knows that I have it.”

“Did you ever tell Pippin about the elf?” Merry asked.

“No,” she said. “As I’ve said, he’d have likely believed it, but I didn’t tell him. I suspected that the idea might excite him and that he might go running to his father with questions about it. I knew that Paladin wouldn’t approve of my putting fanciful notions into Peregrin’s head. I didn’t want to worry Paladin and I didn’t want to get Peregrin into trouble with his father. I dare say he has enough of that as it is with the two of them being so different from one another.” Her eyes were sad, but she didn’t say more about that. “You are the only one of my grandchildren that knows this story.”

For some reason this made Merry feel special in a way that he had never felt with his Took Grandmother. Pippin called her Gram and knew her well. He had visited her often as a little lad and she had come to his smial too. Pippin had sat on her lap when he was small and she had tucked him into bed and told him other stories. Pippin had grown up knowing her and living on the farm that she had once lived on. Merry had very few memories of his grandmother. She didn’t visit Buckland. In fact, this party was so important to everyone because it was one of the few times that his Took Grandmother was coming to Brandy Hall.

Merry’s mum and his grandmother were not as close as they might have been. They had grown apart over the years. This was partly because Merry’s mum lived in Buckland and was the wife of the Master of Buckland. Both of them had been stubborn about certain family matters in the past. It wasn’t always easy for Merry’s mum to be so far from her own kin. For all of these reasons, Merry didn’t have much of a chance to know this grandmother.

“Lad, are you all right?” she asked him when he had been still for some time.

“I’m fine,” Merry said. “I was just wondering about it all. I wonder why the elf was in your barn to begin with. What do you suppose he was doing?”

“I’ve thought a great deal about that one myself,” she said. “I never found the answer to that riddle. Bilbo seemed to think that the elf might have been very young and curious. He thought that maybe the elf had just come into our barn for a look around, or maybe he had come to see our animals. Bilbo says that the fair folk have a special way with animals and other creatures that hobbits don’t. Whatever the reason, Bilbo suspected that the elf must be very young or he would not have risked coming into our barn.”

“Do you ever wish that he hadn’t come?” Merry asked. “I mean because of what happened to your leg?”

“I did for a time, but now I am very glad that I had a chance to see him,” she smiled. “It’s a very clear memory. Some of the things that have happened to me in my long life are not so easily recalled, but if I close my eyes, even now I can see him as if he were standing right in front of this chair. He was a wonder to behold. All things considered, I believe that his coming was meant to be. It forced us to realize that we no longer needed to be farming and out in Whitwell all alone and it also gave us a reason to put the farm into Paladin’s keeping. Paladin is a very proud, stubborn, hobbit and he would not have taken the farm unless he truly believed that we could no longer work it. Times change and sometimes little things direct the course of your life. I think that my elf had a hand in directing our lives. I don’t regret it. Your grandfather and I still had each other for a time after that.” She smiled at Merry, fondly. “So you believe me when I say that I saw one of the fair folk in my barn loft?”

“I do,” Merry said, looking up at her. He studied her with his intelligent, grey eyes as if seeing her for the first time. “I’m sorry that you and I don’t get along better,” he said suddenly.

She laughed. “How can we get along if we never see one another? It isn’t your fault, Meriadoc. It’s just the way that life has treated us. You don’t always have control over things. Even if you might wish them to be different, you can’t always change them.”

“I suppose not,” Merry agreed. “Still, it might have been nice to know you better when I was small.”

“I would have liked that very much,” she said, and she reached over and pressed the small, bright, crystal into his hand. “I want you to have this.”

“I can’t take your elf crystal,” Merry objected, trying to hand it back to her.

“Yes, you can,” she said, gently. “I’m going to my one hundred and twelfth birthday party, Meriadoc and in all of my years of owning that crystal, only two hobbits who’ve heard the tale have believed it. I don’t want to go on to the over-heaven when my time comes and leave that with someone who won’t see it for what it is. I’ll not be around forever and sometimes there isn’t time in the end to see to the small things. I want you to have this now so that when my time comes, I will know that it is in good hands.”

Merry held it in his hands and looked up at her. “I should think that you would want to keep it until, well, for as long as you’re here.”

“No, I’ve enjoyed that crystal for the time that I’ve had it,” she said. “It was important to me because sometimes I doubted my own rather incredible tale, but when I did, this crystal would remind me that it had happened. I would take it out and hold it and think about my visit with that fair creature. Now, as I get older, I can close my eyes and see his face whenever I want to see him. It’s like I told you before, I don’t need the crystal anymore.” She ran a wrinkled hand through Merry’s curls and smiled at him sadly. “I haven’t been much of a grandmother to you, child, and it would please me to know that I had, at least, given you this bit of myself. You and I haven’t shared many things, but we’ve shared this. You, Bilbo and I are the only ones that have seen that crystal. I don’t wear it. I carry it with me because I’ve not wanted to share it with anyone. I like to think of him as my elf. Now, I’ve shared him with you and in a way, he’s your elf too.”

Merry rose up and kissed her on the cheek. “I haven’t been much of a grandson and I don’t think that I have anything that I can give you,” he said.

“You have given me your trust, Meriadoc,” she said. “There is no greater gift. Ask Peregrin when he returns if you don’t believe. You had only to look at his eyes when you trusted him to ride for help a few minutes ago to know that what I’m saying is true. You trusted him to get help while we waited and you trusted that what I told you was the truth.”

“Bilbo trusted you,” Merry said, looking down at the beautiful blue crystal in his hands.

“Bilbo trusted me because he’d seen what I was describing,” she said. “He knows the fair folk. Why did you believe it?”

“Because I don’t think you’d make all of that up,” Merry said. “You’re a sensible hobbit and I’ve never heard that you were given to fanciful thoughts. Also, you’re my grandmother and, though we’ve never been close, you’ve never lied to me about anything.”

“Exactly,” she said. “You take that crystal and keep it and one day when you have a little one of your own, you tell them my story. Then some day when you are ready to let the crystal go, you give it to someone who has faith in it and in you.” She kissed him again and then they both looked up. They could hear the unmistakable sound of an approaching cart.

Merry quickly put the crystal in his pocket with one hand and waved with the other as Saradoc Brandybuck pulled a cart in beside Grandmother Took’s carriage and climbed down. “Pippin says that you have wheel trouble,” Saradoc’s voice boomed.

“That we do,” Merry answered, helping his grandmother to her feet and giving her his arm.

“Well, your mother has her hands full with a smial loaded with relations all waiting for the birthday lass to make an appearance and so here I am to take you both to the party,” Saradoc said.

“Well, it’s kind of you to come and get us, Saradoc, but we were doing just fine in the shade of that nice old oak,” Merry’s grandmother said. “I was just getting to know my grandson a bit better and enjoying this peaceful afternoon.”

Saradoc grinned. “You are lucky to have enjoyed the peaceful afternoon. It is anything but peaceful back at Brandy Hall.” He reached out to help her into the cart and she let go of Merry’s arm and allowed it.

“I’ll just get the rocker,” Merry said. “Oh, and the other pony.”

Saradoc chuckled. “Yes, get that pony while you’re about it.”

Merry turned and looked at his father quizzically. “What’s so funny?”

“Pippin,” Saradoc said, with another laugh.

“What’s he done?” Merry asked.

“Seems all he can talk about is how he managed to ride Grandmother Took’s cart pony to the Hall without falling off a single time,” Saradoc chuckled. “He says that as if it is a near miracle of some sort and that the normal thing would have been to fall off several times.”

Merry grinned. “The normal thing for Pippin would have been to fall off several times. You know how much trouble he has staying on a pony.”

Saradoc smiled. “Once he’d told us where you were and what had happened to the cart, all he’s wanted to do is to tell us about every inch of his ride to the Hall to deliver your message. He wanted to come back with me to get you two, but I didn’t think I could listen to his description of the ride again. I can only hear the words, ‘I nearly fell but I managed to hold up because Merry was counting on me’ so many times without losing what’s left of my mind.”

“I knew he could do it if he just concentrated and didn’t get distracted by anything,” Merry said, turning to get the rocker.

“I don’t know what made you decided to trust him to ride to the Hall, but he didn’t let you down,” Saradoc laughed. “I wouldn’t put Pippin on a pony and send him for help if my life depended upon it. I love that little imp, but he is just not a rider. You and your mum got all of that sort of talent in this family.”

“Some folks just know whom they can trust,” Grandmother Took said, smiling at Merry as he put the rocker into the back of the wagon.

Merry returned her smile and went to get the remaining pony. He would have to remember to brag on Pippin for making it to the Hall. A bit of encouragement just might make all the difference in his younger cousin’s riding skills. Pippin always seemed to do better with a little praise than he did when criticized. Besides, Merry was proud of Pippin for managing it.

Saradoc looked over at Merry who was leading the pony over to the cart and then over at his wife’s mother. He had the feeling that he’d missed something important today but he wasn’t sure what it might be. Whatever it was, it seemed to have been good for both Merry and Mrs. Took and Saradoc doubted that he’d hear a word about it from either of them. Mrs. Took smiled back at him and said, “You have a fine lad there, Saradoc. Don’t ever forget that.”

The End

G.W. 05/31/2005

I was running. I always seem to wind up running whenever I spend a day with Berilac, Merimas, and Falco. All week we have been doing dares and attempting the sort of things that my parents would punish me for if they knew. I spend my time, when I’m not busy running, worrying about what might happen to me if we’re caught. I want them to think of me as old enough to keep up and I most certainly do not want to be thought of as a coward, but I do wish that we could spend one day fishing or swimming or something a bit safer.

I am easily in front of the others, even though they are older than I am, because I have always been the fastest runner in Buckland. It galls them, but the others can’t keep up with me once I hit my stride. I will admit that I am starting to get a stitch in my side right now, but I am not about to let anyone know it. One of the others will give out before I do!

I am very glad that I am not the one carrying either of the pies. It is so much harder to run if you have a warm pie in your hands. Falco has one of them and Berilac has the other. We have just raided the windowsill of Old Mistress Sandhills in Crickhollow. She is one of the finest bakers this side of the Brandywine but unfortunately for us, she isn’t all that old and her husband is quite fit. He and a couple of others are giving chase and that is why we are running. I don’t think that they got a proper look at us, but if they manage to catch up then we are all done for. Berilac and Falco are holding the evidence and so there won’t be any way around it.

We have just tuned the corner near the road to the Hall and I am thinking of shooting off road into the woods. The others will follow. It will be rough going with those pies but it isn’t at all smart to keep running as if we are going to Brandy Hall. That will most assuredly give us away. We are nearing a path that I know and so I turn and shoot up it. As I do, I pass my younger cousin, Pippin who is leaning against a tree and looking up at the branches. I’ve no time to figure out what he is looking at or even to say hello. I also can’t warn him to keep his mouth shut about seeing me. All I can do is hope that Pippin’s mouth doesn’t betray us. It has before. He never means to give us away but he just opens his mouth and says what he thinks.

I give a look over my shoulder just to make sure that the others are following me and that is when I see Berilac shove his pie into Pippin’s hands as he passes. I slow a bit. Is Berilac trying to pin our crime on Pippin or is he simply tired of trying to carry the pie and run at the same time? I stop completely and that’s when Merimas and Berilac each grab one of my arms and drag me into the cover of the trees and foliage just off of the path. As they pull me backwards I have an excellent view of Pippin standing there holding the pie and looking at it as if Yule has come early.

“What are you doing?” I hiss and Merimas promptly covers my mouth tightly with his hand. Just beside of him, Falco joins us and as he drops down into the cover of the ferns that grow high and deep in this area, he looses his balance and falls chest first onto his pie. Berilac groans softly and I struggle to get Merimas’ hands off of my mouth but suddenly, we can see that Pippin is no longer alone and we all fall silent, staring at the one hobbit in the Shire that you don’t ever want to trust to keep his mouth shut. The one who is holding our remaining pie.

Mister Sandhills and his two companions have just rushed up to Pippin and they seem to be deciding which way to run when all of the sudden one of them points to the pie in Pippin’s hands. “Where did you get that?” he demands in an angry tone.

Pippin looks up at him and smiles. Pippin is always the last one to realize that he is in trouble. “Hullo,” Pippin says. “Are you looking for something?”

“Are we looking for something?” the hobbit sighs and nudges Mister Sandhills in the ribs. “Do you hear this one, Arnot? He wants to know if we’re looking for something.”

I tug at Merimas’s hand but my older cousin isn’t about to allow me the chance to warn Pippin or to give away our hiding place. Pippin smiles broader and looks up at Mister Sandhills and says, “You’re all out of breath. Have you been running?”

Mister Sandhills looks at Pippin as if he can’t believe what he is hearing and then he gets right to the point of things. “Where did you get that pie?”

Beside of me, Berilac sucks in a breath and holds it while I glare at him. Pippin looks down at the pie in his hands and says, “This pie?”

Falco, who is covered with cherry pie, smacks his forehead and glares at Berilac. It seems that I am not the only one who isn’t pleased with Berilac’s decision to give that pie to Pippin. I have an ally now. Berilac shrinks back a bit under the weight of our combined stares as we hear Mister Sandhills say, “Yes, that pie that you are holding right this minute. Where did you get it?”

“So far, I’m not at all amused,” Mister Sandhills confesses trying to intimidate Pippin with his own glare but it doesn’t work at all well. Pippin is completely unfazed by the glare.

Falco examines his shirt and he is the only one ignoring Pippin and Mister Sandhills. The rest of us are glued to the exchange that is taking place just a few yards in front of us.

“Oh, well, of course not,” Pippin says. “I’ve not told you the tale yet.” He smiles and then he says, “I was standing here watching some squirrels in this tree. I’d point them out to you but I think all the ruckus has run them off and also I have this pie in my hands so I can’t point without dropping the pie, don’t you see.”

“Never mind the squirrels, just tell me how you came by the pie,” Mister Sandhills demands.

“Just come out and ask him if he stole it or not,” one of the other two hobbits advises.

Pippin looks completely startled by this and looks at the hobbit who suggested this with a frown. “I did not steal this pie. It just turned up,” Pippin says.

“Aye, it did that very thing,” Pippin says, grinning in spite of his earlier indignation at being accused of stealing. Pippin gets over things quickly and moves on. It will actually make you dizzy if you don’t know what to expect.

“So that there pie just walked right up to you and leaped into your hands, did it?”

Pippin actually laughs at this. He laughs and I try my best to get free from Merimas with no success. The little rascal is going to seal his own fate before I can get the chance to save him. Merimas now has both hands over my mouth and Berilac is practically sitting on my lap. They are making extra sure that I have no way to get to Pippin. Meanwhile, Falco is watching Pippin and licking cherry pie off of his own shirt.

“You think that’s funny, do you?” Mister Sandhills asks and Pippin nods, still laughing. “You think that what my brother-in-law says is funny?”

“Well, it’s more silly than funny when you think on it,” Pippin says. “I mean, pies don’t walk unless maybe it would be a magic pie that a Wizard had put a spell on or something.” His eyes light up and he says, a bit breathless. “Is this pie a magic pie?”

Mister Sandhills’s brother-in-law chokes a bit and Mister Sandhills says, “That is a cherry pie that my misses baked and put in our window to cool, but then I guess you probably already know that, don’t you?”

Pippin frowns at the pie, a bit disappointed that it isn’t magic, and then says, “I know it now that you’ve told me,” he says. “I did like my story about a Wizard much better though, but I suppose that couldn’t really happen unless there was a wizard about, could it?”

The three hobbits exchange confused looks and finally, the one who has remained quiet says, “I don’t think this lad is bright enough to have stolen the pies, Arnot,” he has lowered his voice but all of us, including Pippin, can hear him well enough.

“I could steal anything that I wanted to steal if I were wanting to steal something, “ Pippin says, glaring. This is the first trace of anger he has shown. He is insulted and I don’t blame him. I am insulted on his behalf.

“So!” the brother-in-law interrupts. “You are admitting that you stole that pie!”

“No, I’m not!” Pippin says. “I said I could have stole it but I didn’t steal it. I told you it just turned up on luck of a sort.”

“How is it that my wife’s cherry pie turned up in your hands?” Mister Sandhills demands taking a step toward Pippin who backs up a bit now, but only a tiny bit. I don’t think he’s afraid. He seldom sees the danger that he’s in until he’s in up to the top of his curly little head and he isn’t quite there just yet. I think he only stepped back so that he wouldn’t have to strain his neck quite so much to look up at Mister Sandhills.

“I was just standing here and watching the squirrels that you don’t really want to hear about and all of the sudden this older lad runs up and gives me this pie and then runs off,” Pippin says.

It’s perfectly true but I am thinking that no one will believe him. Berilac has gone a bit pale and I can feel his hold on me slacking slightly. I don’t move so that he isn’t aware of it. He might let go altogether if I am still enough and then maybe I will be able to break free of Merimas and get Pippin away from that lot.

“So you expect us to believe that, do you?” the brother-in-law asks arching an eyebrow at Pippin.

“Papa says that if you tell the truth that folks will have no reason at all to doubt you,” Pippin recites pleasantly enough. “I’ve told you the truth and so that’s really all there is.”

Berilac is desperately hoping that is all there is because he knows full well that the next word out of Pippin’s mouth could very well be 'Berilac'.

“Fine,” the third hobbit, who hasn’t say too much so far save to accuse Pippin of being a nit-wit, says. “What can you tell us about the lad who gave you the pie?”

“Oh, all sorts of things, really,” Pippin says but he doesn’t offer up any of those things. He just stands there swaying from foot-to-foot and holding the cherry pie.

“Then why don’t you start by telling us what he looks like?” Mister Sandhills suggests when Pippin fails to say more, which, as I can tell you, is a rare thing in itself.

“He was taller than me and he was running and carrying this very pie that I have right here in my hands right now,” Pippin says and then he thinks a minute and says, “He had shifty eyes and he looked kinda slow-witted like one of you thought I was, only I’m not, but this hobbit that gave me the pie just might be.”

Berilac has forgot all about holding me in place and he is nearly ready to forget himself and climb through the ferns and throttle Pippin. Behind Merimas’s hands, I am grinning. Falco has looked up from licking the pie from his shirt and is staring in amusement at Berilac.

“You see,” Pippin continues. “You don’t just give away a perfectly good pie if you don’t have to and this lad just gave me this pie and then kept running. Doesn’t that sound slow-witted to you? My cousin, Merry says that you don’t waste food and it seems a waste to just give away a whole pie.” Pippin looks hungrily at the pie now.

“If anyone ran by here and gave you that pie, then which way did he run?” the brother-in-law asks.

“I can’t point on account of the pie,” Pippin says. “He went off on up that road that you just came from, him and his friends.”

“There was more than one of them?” Mister Sandhills asks leaning down and suddenly giving Pippin’s neck a rest.

“Oh, didn’t I tell that part?” Pippin asks turning his head slightly to one side as if trying to remember what he has told to this point.

“No, you didn’t,” Mister Sandhills says leaning closer to Pippin so that he is almost nose to nose with my twelve-year-old cousin.

“Well, that’s probably important on account of one of the others had a pie just like this one,” Pippin says. “I shouldn’t have left that part out, but I was interrupted at the very beginning during the part about the squirrels and so I lost my place. If I get interrupted then I don’t always tell a thing properly and I leave important bits out and everyone gets confused so I guess that’s what happened right here.”

Pippin is telling the complete truth about this. It is better just to let him ramble along. He’ll get to the point eventually. If you interrupt him, it could take days to get the full story and then it will be completely out of order and you will be forced to try to piece it together on your own. They should have let Pippin tell them about those darned squirrels and then they wouldn’t be in this mess. You just have to know how to talk to Pippin if you want to find out anything at all.

“How many were there?” the brother-in-law demands hoping to get to the point of it all.

“Well, I didn’t actually count because when the one lad gave me this pie, I lost interest in the others since I now had this pie that I didn’t even ask for or anything,” Pippin smiled. “It just came to me.”

The brother-in-law is on the verge of saying something rude but Mister Sandhills wisely cuts him off. After all, Pippin may be annoying to talk to, but he is only twelve and you can’t just say any old rude thing to a lad of twelve. I look over at Berilac and I notice that he is even paler than he was a minute ago. Merimas is frowning too now. It seems that both of my older cousins think that Pippin is about to give them away. I know it isn’t that simple. Mister Sandhills and his companions are ages away from finding out anything useful.

“Five, or maybe three,” Pippin says and he looks up at the tree. “All of the squirrels are gone now.”

“Not all of them,” Merimas mutters beside me. I would glare at him but I can’t turn my head that way just yet. If he weren’t so thick he’d realize that so far, Pippin has saved his sorry hide just by being Pippin. Merimas should be grateful but I doubt that he is.

Pippin’s mouth falls open and for a minute I think he might actually cry. Instead he says, “You don’t like squirrels very much, do you?”

Falco, who is much brighter than either of my cousins, can see the humor in it all and he is having a very hard time not laughing. He distracts himself by running his finger around the rim of the pie tin and then licking off the cherry sauce.

“Six, or maybe only three,” Pippin says. “I’d just flat out be lying to you if I told you that I knew exactly how many there were. I was busy being thankful for this pie that just came to me. You know how it is when you are looking forward to having a pie, don’t you?”

“I do indeed because I was looking forward to having that very pie that you are now holding!” Mister Sandhills says far too loudly.

“Are you here to swipe my pie?” Pippin asks, backing up again and looking rather protective of the pie.

Merimas is stunned. Pippin is actually accusing Mister Sandhills of stealing his own pie! In fact, Merimas is so stunned that he lets go of my mouth and puts his hands over his own. I, being one of the very fastest, if not the fastest hobbit in the Shire move too quickly for my cousins or Falco and I back up further into the trees and then move around quietly to a new location. I have a plan. None of my partners in crime attempt to come after me. They know that would make far too much noise and I would just yell out and give us all up. They glare at me, well, Falco doesn’t. He is still looking with complete awe at Pippin, but Berilac and Merimas glare at me. I give them a small smile because I know that will get to them more than glaring and I continue to move quietly away from them.

“Your pie?” the brother-in-law's voice asks. I can’t see him, but I can most certainly hear him and I know that Pippin has just about pushed this thing to its limit. I am running out of time for a rescue.

“Well, it’s mine as far as I can tell,” Pippin says. “I was just standing here and that slow-witted lad gave it to me so that makes it my pie.”

“I still think you stole that pie right off of my window sill,” Mister Sandhills says.

That’s when I come out of the woods just behind Pippin. I moved around in that direction so I wouldn’t give the others away and so it would look like I was just now getting here. Clever, uh? “Pippin, are you all right?” I say, and I come up beside of him and put my arm around his shoulders.

“These folks are calling me a pie stealer, Merry!” Pippin shouts without taking his eyes off of Mister Sandhills.

“I caught him red-handed,” Mister Sandhills says to me. He isn’t as rude to me as he’s been to Pippin because I am as tall as he is but he is still taking a tone that I don’t like.

“We’ve been chasing him all the way from Crickhollow,” the brother-in-law says.

“I wasn’t at Crickhollow! Merry, I’m not allowed to go there on my own,” Pippin says. I could remind him that he isn’t supposed to be this far from Brandy Hall either but now is hardly the time to test the limits of our friendship by bringing up his crimes.

“Of course you aren’t,” I say and I look at Mister Sandhills indignantly. I know that I am giving him an indignant look because I’ve practiced this one in front of my mirror for emergencies. “Mister Sandhills, perhaps you’d like to explain this accusation to my father, the Master of Buckland. Maybe you’d like to tell him that you think his favorite nephew stole a pie in Crickhollow or maybe you’d like to tell him how you’ve been chasing a twelve-year-old lad.” I don’t always enjoy being the Master’s son, but sometimes it comes in handy. I am pleased to see Mister Sandhills looking very nervous now.

“This lad isn’t a Brandybuck,” the brother-in-law dares to point out. There’s an easy call considering the accent and the nose. Pippin is all Took and any hobbit with one good eye or better still, one good ear, can tell you that. “He’s a Took or my name isn’t Otto.”

Pippin puffs out his chest and announces. “Of course I’m a Took! You can’t think I’m a Brandybuck!”

I might be insulted if I had a minute to be insulted but instead I start again in my son-of-the-Master-of-the-Hall-voice. “That’s right, this is my cousin, Peregrin Took.”

“The Master’s missus was a Took before he married her,” the hobbit who hasn’t had much to say reminds them.

“I can take all of you up to the Hall right now and you can explain why you are accusing my little cousin of thievery,” I say sounding calm about it all. I know that if they take me up on it and Pippin starts in about the squirrels that my father will listen to every word of it. He knows exactly how to talk to Pippin and he will get the entire story even if it takes the rest of the day. I may sound calm but inside I am shaking like a lose window pane in a summer storm.

“Uncle Doc will tell you that I’m not a pie-stealer!” Pippin shouts. “It was those cowardly lads that ran off after they gave me this pie. They’re the ones that took it, not me.”

I break in now because Pippin is getting too worked up and he is likely to slip and say someone’s name if I don’t put a stop to all of this. “You’ve upset my cousin,” I say and Pippin nods, narrowing his eyes and glaring at Mister Sandhills.

“I’m all upset now, Merry,” he says and I know that we are dangerously close to slipping up. Pippin is looking up at me and saying exactly what he thinks I want him to say but I would prefer it if he were just quiet for once.

“He’s too short, Arnot,” he says as if this bit of wisdom has just smacked him in the forehead. “He wouldn’t have been able to reach the window sill! I think he’s telling the truth.”

I remain quiet because Mister Sandhills is now sizing Pippin up with his eyes and slowly coming to the same conclusion as his friend did. “Well, I don’t know how I missed that,” he mutters still looking at Pippin.

“You were too busy calling me a pie-thief!” Pippin says jutting his chin out at Mister Sandhills and looking offended.

I put in one of my own glares for good measure and suddenly the three of them are practically falling all over themselves apologizing to Pippin and to me and they are even sending their apologies to my father. I have no intention of delivering any apologies to my father as I know that would only make him decide to have what he likes to call a sit-down with Pippin. My father is smart enough to know when something is up. He is the Master of Buckland after all.

“Pippin, give this gentleman his pie back,” I say putting the final touch to it all. “You didn’t steal it, but the wicked lad who gave it to you had no right to it. You don’t want to keep anything that was given to you by a thief.”

Pippin looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind by offering to return a perfectly delicious-looking pie. “But Merry, this pie-“

“Let the lad keep it with my apologies,” Mister Sandhills says and I can see that he is a bit reluctant to give away the pie himself.

“Really?” Pippin asks, forgetting everything that has happened up until now. “I can have this whole, entire pie for my very own?”

Mister Sandhills pats Pippin on the head and if it weren’t for the pie in Pippin’s hands that would have made Pippin angry. He hates being patted on the head but he is too busy admiring his pie to bother about a pat on the head. “You keep it, lad,” Mister Sandhills says in a more convincing tone. “We’ll just be off home now.”

Pippin’s head snaps up now and he says, “Aren’t you going to hunt down those slow-witted, cowardly, wicked old lads what stole your pie?”

I am starting to get very nervous now and I know that Berilac and Merimas and Falco are probably nervous too. They are also probably plenty insulted as well. Pippin has just called them everything but hobbits.

“No, they’re probably long gone from here by now,” Mister Sandhills sighs.

“Maybe not,” Pippin says. “They might be hiding and watching us right this very minute.”

Pippin shrugs. “Suit yourself, but if it were me I’d be looking in the woods and the ferns for those pie thieves.”

“Don’t tell Mister Sandhills his business, Pippin,” I warn knowing full well, even if it’s slipped Pippin’s mind that Berilac and Merimas will sing out my name the minute they are caught. Pippin is playing with fire and I am likely to get burned to a cinder if he doesn’t stop now. “We should be getting home. You have a pie to eat.”

He grins at me now and his mind is on the pie again. “Let’s go, Merry. I’m hungry and my arms ach from holding this pie up all of this time.”

Mister Sandhills and his friends give me a chuckle and a look that says that they now find Pippin absolutely adorable. Everyone does sooner or later so I am hardly surprised. I just smile back and then very quickly usher Pippin onto the road and in the direction of the Hall. We don’t have too much time to make ourselves scarce before Berilac, Merimas, and Falco come out of hiding and track us down.

No sooner than we are out of ear shot Pippin turns to me and grins. “Did you steal this pie, Merry?”

“I’m going to sit down and eat this whole pie all on my own,” Pippin brags.

And when he is wrong, he’s completely wrong. I worked hard for that pie! He may not know yet but he will be sharing.

Esmeralda Brandybuck watched as her young son struggled with the large, heavy box. Her eight-year-old was pulling and tugging for all he was worth and the box was moving slowly down the hallway.

“Merry,” Esmeralda called out. “Do you need some help with that, dearest?”

Merry straightened up and looked at her, sweat dripping down his face. “No thanks, mum. I have it,” he panted.

She approached him and looked down into the large wooden box. “It looks very heavy and you have a great many things in there,” Esmeralda observed. “Are you sure that you don’t need a bit of help? I could push while you pull.”

He wiped a sleeve across his face and smiled at her. “All right,” he agreed, bending back down and tugging on the box.

She quickly stooped over and began to push. “It was a very good idea to place a sheet underneath the box, Merry. It makes it slide much easier,” she said, knowing that the sheet would be almost impossible to clean after this, but admiring his ingenuity. Merry was a very bright child and he had always been very clever when it came to figuring out how to do things. She supposed that all of the time he had spent with his older cousin, Frodo had been partly responsible for this, but problem solving seemed to come naturally to her Merry.

“I thought it would help a bit and it does,” Merry said, looking at her smiling, his face red with his efforts to move the heavy box.

“To my new room,” Merry said and stood up suddenly. He pointed to the open door. “Right here!”

Esmeralda straightened up and peered into the familiar room and then frowned over at Merry. “That is Frodo’s room, Merry,” she said.

Ignoring her, Merry picked up a wooden boat from his box of items and walked into the room. “I will need to move some of this old junk that he left in here, but after that, I will be able to unpack.” He stood looking around the room that he had spent so much time in over the years and frowned. “I hope he emptied the drawers because I have lots of things.”

Sighing, Esmeralda followed him into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Merry, I know that you will miss Frodo very much, but this is still his room,” she said, softly.

“I won’t miss him and if he wants to live at Bag End with Bilbo, then this is my room now,” Merry said, not looking at her. “Let him go there. I don’t care if he does.”

Esmeralda could hear the hurt in her son’s voice. She should have expected something like this to happen. Frodo had been gone for three days now and Merry had been miserable the entire time. Nothing seemed to cheer him. “Darling, you have a lovely room and in fact, it is much bigger than this one,” Esmeralda said.

Merry turned and glared at her. “It’s a baby room and I’m eight now. This room is for an older lad and now that I’m older this should be my room. Frodo doesn’t want it anymore.” He stomped his foot and went over to set the boat on the dresser. “There! My boat looks just fine in here. It looks better than all of Frodo’s old raggedy books and junk,” he declared.

“Merry,” Esmeralda sighed. “I thought we might keep this room as it is, so that when Frodo visits he can sleep in here. He will be coming to visit us often, you know?”

“Then he can sleep in one of the guest rooms,” Merry said. “He doesn’t live here anymore. This is my room now.” Merry went into the hall and got several more toys out of the box and sat them next to the boat on the dresser while Esmeralda watched, trying to figure out the proper thing to say. “Merry, I know that you are angry with Frodo for leaving, but he did try to explain things to you when he said goodbye,” she said. “I thought you understood everything.”

“I understand,” Merry said. “He wants to live with Bilbo and so he left us.” He stalked back into the hall for another load of items.

“Merry, you aren’t being fair about this,” Esmeralda said, gently. “Come over here and sit down next to me.”

Merry piled his load of toys on the floor and joined her, sitting very stiffly as if daring her to touch him. He didn’t want to be babied just now. He was angry.

She respected his wishes and sat still looking at him. “You said that you were older now and that was why you needed to move into this room,” she said. “Well, if you are older then it is time that you try to understand that the folks that we love can’t always be with us. I know that you love Frodo very much.”

Merry looked down at his lap and said, “I don’t love him and he doesn’t love me. If he did love me, then he would have stayed here. We’re his family, not Bilbo.”

“He does love you very much and we are his family, but Bilbo is his family too,” Esmeralda said.

“Then he loves Bilbo more than he loves me,” Merry said, wiping his eyes on his sleeve and trying not to let his mum know that he was crying a little bit.

“Merry, darling, Frodo doesn’t love anyone more than he loves you,” Esmeralda said. “You are the most important hobbit in all of the Shire to Frodo.”

Merry looked at her with tears streaming down his face and asked, “Then why did he leave me?”

She held out her arms and he quickly lunged into them, burying his face in her shoulder and climbing into her lap. “He didn’t leave you, Merry. He left Buckland,” she said, rubbing his back. “He needed to live somewhere different for a while. Sometimes being here makes him sad. He has too many memories of his parents here.”

“It makes me sad for him to be with Bilbo,” Merry sniffled. “I need him here.”

She hugged him tightly. “I know you do, but for now, Frodo needs to be in Hobbiton with Bilbo.”

“Then I need to go to Hobbiton too,” Merry said, raising up and looking at her with red-rimmed eyes. “I need to go live with Frodo. Bilbo won’t mind if I do. He likes me and he says I’m a fine young lad.”

“Well, I suppose that you could do that,” Esmeralda said, slowly. “That might solve your problem and then you could be with Frodo.”

Merry brightened a bit. “I have some of my stuff packed and I could get more boxes and you could help me,” Merry said. “Then you could keep this room for Frodo when he visits and keep mine for me.”

Esmeralda nodded and looked at Merry sadly. “If that is what you want then I suppose we could do that,” she said, looking down.

“Mum? What’s that matter?” Merry asked, hugging her tightly. “You look sad too now.”

“Well, I suppose you know how that feels, don’t you?” Esmeralda said. “I feel sad because you would rather live with Frodo than stay here with your father and me.”

Merry’s eyes widened and he hugged her even tighter. “You could come too!” he said, tears threatening again.

“No, Merry, your father and I have to stay here,” she said. “Your father is the Master of Buckland and he can’t simply leave and go to Hobbiton to live with Bilbo. Besides, Bilbo has room for you, I am sure, but I don’t think he’d have enough room for all of us to move in with him. We have too many things. Your father and I will have to stay behind.” She pulled him back and looked into his serious, grey eyes. “I will miss you very much,” she said.

Merry’s lower lip trembled and he said, “I don’t want to go away if you and papa can’t come too.”

“Well, I know how much you love Frodo and how lonely you’ve been without him,” Esmeralda said. “I want you to be happy, Merry. If you aren’t happy here, then I understand.”

“I wish Frodo would just come back here,” Merry said. “He could bring Bilbo too. We have plenty of room and then we could all be together.”

“Merry, if Frodo could have stayed with us, he would have,” Esmeralda said. “He didn’t leave you behind because he doesn’t love you. He left you behind because he knows that your father and I need you here with us. Frodo needs to be somewhere away from his memories of his parents and to get to know his cousin Bilbo a little better. Frodo knows us and we are his mum’s family, but he doesn’t know many of his Baggins relations very well. Frodo is growing up and he needs to be able to do that without thinking about his parents all of the time. It makes him very sad, Merry. He lost them when he was very young.”

“I know,” Merry said, softly. He put his hand into his mother’s hand and held on tightly. “Do you think Frodo misses me?”

“Of course he does,” Esmeralda said. “He misses you and as soon as he has settled in at Bag End, he wants you to visit him. He told you that. Don’t’ you remember?”

“It will take you some time to get used to it,” Esmeralda said. “Unless of course, you are truly moving to Bag End to be with him.”

Just then, Saradoc came into the room. “Is someone moving? There is a great big box in the hall filled with all of Merry’s things.” He looked over at his wife and son and then said, “Oh, there you are, Merry. These are your things in the hall aren’t they?”

Saradoc looked at his wife and waited. Something was going on and he wasn’t quite sure what it might be.

“Merry was thinking of moving into Frodo’s room, but now, I believe that he has decided to move to Bag End and live with Frodo and Bilbo,” Esmeralda said.

“I see,” Saradoc said, looking down at Merry. “So you’ve decided to leave us too, have you?”

Merry stood up still holding his mother’s hand tightly and said, “No, I changed my mind. Mum needs me here.”

“Well, that’s very true,” Saradoc said, smiling at his son. “And I need you here too, you know. Who am I going to go fishing with if you leave? And who will help with the ponies and the rest of the animals. But most importantly, who will be the next Master of Buckland if you go off to Hobbiton?”

Merry let go of his mother’s hand and rushed over leaping up so that his father had to catch him and pull him into his arms. “I want to stay with you and mum. I’m not like Frodo. I have my parents and I want to stay with you both,” he said, hugging his father tightly.

“Well, we want you to stay with us,” Saradoc said with a smile at Esmeralda who was smiling back.

“It must be awful for Frodo not to have his parents anymore,” Merry said, laying his head on his father’s shoulder.

“It is indeed,” Saradoc said, giving Merry a hug. “Now, are you moving in here since you aren’t moving to Bag End?’

“I think I will keep my same room and let this one be for Frodo when he comes to visit like mum said,” Merry said.

“Your mother is a very smart hobbit,” Saradoc said, with a wink at Esmeralda. “And you are a very smart little lad, Merry.”

“There is only this one problem,” Merry said, lifting his head and looking up at his father.

“Well, I may need some help moving my things back to my room,” Merry said. “I’m kinda tired now and I don’t think that mum and me can move the heavy box anymore.”

Saradoc smiled. “Moving is very hard work. Why don’t you go into the kitchen with your mum and have a snack and I will move your things back into your room for you. After all, you and your mum are the brains in the family and I am the muscle.” He sat Merry down and Esmeralda came over and took her son’s hand.

“Let’s see if there are any strawberry scones left, shall we,” she asked, smiling down at him. He grinned up at her and they left for the kitchen.

This is the story of Eowyn’s seashell. It takes place at Brandy Hall in Buckland post quest. The characters are, Merry and Estella and their children, Dernhelm age 12, Eowyn age 10, and Fredegar age 5. Pippin and Diamond and their child, Faramir age 8. There is also the mention of Lady Eowyn and a few Bracegirdles.

For this challenge story I was to use Diamond, a seashell, the Houses of Healing and a hobbit with a black eye in my story.

Disclaimer: These are not my characters but I enjoy borrowing them from time to time. The Hobbits belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. He was just nice enough to share them with us. I have invented one or two for this tale, but everything else is Tolkien’s.

Merry would have laughed under better circumstances. If his daughter had not been standing just a few feet from him wearing a torn skirt and sporting two bloody knees then Merry might have found the entire thing funny. Instead he found himself wondering what sort of trouble the children had managed to get into this time. He watched Pippin and Faramir who were just across from him. They had locked eyes in the way that only father and son can and if Merry were in the mood to wager he would have bet on Pippin looking away first. Eight-year-old Faramir Took stood there with his hands fisted at his sides, every muscle in his body tense, and his bright green eyes locked on his father’s equally bright green eyes. The eyes were the one noticeable resemblance between the two hobbits.

Pippin had knelt down so that he and Faramir could talk face to face but, as always, Faramir seemed to have very little to say. So far, Pippin had done most of the talking. That was nothing unusual. Merry’s ten-year-old daughter had cried but had refused to explain things. It wasn’t that Eowyn didn’t have anything to say; it was a matter of honor. She would not tell on Faramir. Whatever had happened in the space of time between luncheon and tea would remain a secret unless Faramir talked. So far, he hadn’t.

Pippin sighed in frustration and shifted his position slightly. “Don’t you have anything to say about this at all?” Pippin asked as he ran his hands through his hair.

Faramir shook his head. The child’s jaw was clenched and his lips were pulled into a thin line. He stood there and looked at his father and said nothing.

Pippin leaned his head forward and broke eye contact just as Merry had known that he would. Pippin then turned and looked up at Merry and shrugged his shoulders. Eowyn sniffled and Merry reached into his pocket and removed a handkerchief. He handed it to her and she blew her pug nose.

When Eowyn had been born, Estella had held the little lass in her arms and examined her closely as if memorizing her. Then Merry’s darling wife had looked over at him and said, “I suppose that she’ll grow into it eventually.” Estella had been frowning slightly at the time.

“Grow into what?” Merry asked, still overcome with the joy that having a daughter had given him. He had a goofy smile on his face and he couldn’t stop staring at his beautiful wife and his amazing little daughter.

Eowyn was a Brandybuck through and through. She had her father’s sandy curls, his temper, his stance, and his nose. Eowyn blew her nose again and then looked over at Faramir. The young Took looked over at her but still said nothing.

Pippin stood and began to pace. Merry was just about to reach out a hand and stop Pippin in his tracks when Freddy raced into the room on his short little legs carrying a large sea shell in his hands. He, like Eowyn, had been crying. Freddy hurried over to his older sister and extended the shell out toward her. “We got it, Owyn,” he whispered. Merry looked down at his children and watched as Eowyn took the shell from her five-year-old brother. She inspected it for a minute and then looked down at Freddy. “Dernhelm got it back,” Freddy said, in a slightly louder voice. The pride was evident as the little lad mentioned his older brother.

Pippin had stopped pacing and was now watching Merry’s children in fascination. Eowyn was so like Merry had been as a child. She was very intense and incredibly bright. She was also quick to anger but even quicker to forgive. Pippin smiled as Eowyn pulled Freddy into a hug and ran her fingers through his sandy curls. “Thank you for bring it to me, Fred,” Eowyn smiled her tears drying on her cheeks. Suddenly, Faramir had moved to Pippin’s side and the child slid his hand into his father’s. Pippin looked down at him curiously and squeezed his son’s hand reassuringly.

They all looked over and saw Dernhelm come into the room. Merry’s oldest child had Estella’s eyes and her brown hair. Dernhelm also had Estella’s frown whenever he had need of it. Sometimes Pippin found this rather unsettling. The lad looked so much like Estella when he disapproved of something. Pippin had received that look from Estella a great many times. The two younger children were small copies of Merry, but Dernhelm was Estella’s lad.

The other children looked at Dernhelm as he came into the room and walked over to stand somewhere in between Pippin and Merry. Grinning, Freddy raced over and wrapped his arms tightly around his older brother’s legs and held on. With a sigh, Dernhelm dislodged Freddy’s grip and picked the child up. Freddy leaned against his older brother’s shoulder and placed an arm around his neck.

“It was the Bracegirdles again,” Dernhelm said looking at his father. Merry frowned but said nothing. He would give his twelve-year-old time to explain everything.

Faramir leaned his head against his father’s leg and continued to hold fast to his hand. Pippin looked down at the top of his son’s dark curly hair and smiled. He then looked over at Dernhelm. “What have that lot done now?” Pippin asked frowning.

“They took Eowyn’s sea shell,” Dernhelm said. “They pushed her down and took it.”

“Hush,” Dernhelm said giving the little hobbit a warning look as Faramir flinched a bit at his father’s side.

“Well she did,” Freddy objected but seeing the stern look on his older brother’s face, Freddy bit his lower lip and was quiet.

“Otto Bracegirdle came over to Eowyn and asked her if he could hold the shell,” Dernhelm said. “Naturally, Eowyn knows better than to give anything to Otto. That one is a pure-blooded thief if ever there was one.”

“Just stick to the story as it happened and try to leave out the slander no matter how accurate you believe it to be,” Merry frowned.

“Well, Eowyn told Otto that he couldn’t hold it and that’s when Orin came over and knocked her down,” Dernhelm said. “I was over by the stable with some of the older lads and Eowyn was just in front of the Oak tree so it took me a minute to get to her and by then Faramir and Freddy were already there ahead of me.”

“Freddy kicked Otto in the shin and so Otto pushed Freddy down and that was when Faramir hit Otto square in the mouth,” Theoden said smiling at his younger cousin.

Merry watched as Pippin tried not to grin while Faramir just stood there looking serious.

“Naturally, Orin took a swing at Faramir in defense of Otto,” Dernhelm said.

“And then Eowyn decided to defend Freddy by hitting Orin only she missed,” Dernhelm said with a quick look at his sister who had lowered her eyes and was now staring at the floor. “She didn’t mean to but she and Orin both hit Faramir at the same time.”

Merry’s eyes widened and he looked over at his nephew who was now blushing slightly making the bruises around both of his eyes seemed even darker. Pippin sucked in a breath of air. This explained why Faramir had two black eyes and it also explained why Eowyn and Faramir seemed angry at one another. The two children were usually quite close and rarely fought but it seemed as if Eowyn might have done a bit of damage to Faramir’s pride.

“Eowyn got Faramir in the right eye and Orin got him in the left,” Dernhelm said. “And while all of this was going on, Otto grabbed the shell which was laying on the ground at the time and ran off with it.”

“He stepped on my hand,” Freddy murmured rubbing his fingers as if just recalling that it had hurt.

“So I had to get the shell back once I made sure that Eowyn and Orin hadn’t knocked Faramir out,” Dernhelm said.

“Of course not,” Pippin said giving Faramir’s hand a squeeze. Pippin had grown up with three older sisters and so he knew how embarrassed Faramir must be about now. Pippin had been hit by a lass on more than one occasion.

“I came over and pulled Eowyn off of Orin and set that rascal on the run,” Dernhelm said.

Pippin and Merry looked over at Eowyn who raised her head and said, “I could have taken care of him myself. I had him down but Dernhelm pulled me off of him and that’s when he got away.”

“I couldn’t stand there and let you beat the snot out of him,” Dernhelm said.

Merry had a moment to wonder if perhaps his daughter was living up to the spirit of the Lady of Rohan for which she had been named before Freddy spoke up. “Otto stepped on my hand, Papa,” Freddy whimpered.

“You’re fine now, Fred,” Merry said gently. “I noticed that you had a firm grip on the sea shell when you came running in here.”

“But still,” Freddy whined and buried his face in Dernhelm’s shoulder. The last of the child’s words were mumbled into Dernhelm’s shirt collar and Merry was unable to make them out. Dernhelm rubbed the child’s back and smirked at his father. Freddy often milked his injuries for sympathy. The entire family was used to it. Freddy would probably be mentioning his injured hand for the next week whenever he felt the need for a little extra attention.

“So, you ran Orin off and then what happened?” Merry asked smiling at his oldest.

“Once I was sure that the children were going to be fine, I went after Otto,” Dernhelm said. He made it sound as if he were years older than the others when he said this.

Merry looked over at Pippin and winked. Faramir might not look like his father but sometimes he sounded exactly like Pippin had at that age. Pippin ignored the wink and whispered to his son. “Of course you aren’t.” Pippin then gave Merry a slight glare.

“I told them to go into the smial and tell you what happened but I can see that they didn’t listen to me,” Dernhelm sighed. “Fred followed me and these two don’t seem to have explained a thing.” He looked from Eowyn to Faramir and both younger children ignored him.

“I wanted to watch you beat the snot out of Otto,” Freddy said grinning up at his older brother. “Otto stepped on my hand.”

“If Dernhelm had left me alone, you could have watched me beat the snot out of Orin,” Eowyn said. She was still mad that her older brother had stolen her thunder.

Eowyn stormed over and stood before Faramir. “I do not and you take that back Faramir Took or I’ll pop you again!”

“I won’t!” Faramir said as the two of them stood and glared at one another. Faramir and Eowyn were the same height even though Eowyn was two years older. Merry had always thought that some of the Ent draft had found its way into Faramir because Pippin’s little one had always been tall for his age.

Merry walked over and put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder and said, “No one is popping anyone. There has been enough hitting go on here today.”

“I don’t want to,” Faramir said looking up at Pippin with his twin shiners encircling his green eyes.

“It isn’t about what you want, it’s about what’s proper,” Pippin said. “Apologize.”

Merry tried not to grin and Pippin rolled his eyes and then tried to look stern. Merry had to look away because Pippin’s ‘stern father face’ always made him laugh. Pippin’s face was meant for smiling and any effort to look imposing nearly always failed. Merry bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from grinning and listened as Pippin said, “You know that isn’t what I meant, Faramir.”

Now it was Merry’s turn to look stern. “Eowyn Brandybuck, do you want to spend the next week in your room?” he asked.

“I accept your apology and I’m sorry that I hurt you,” she said with a sigh. From where he stood, Pippin could see Eowyn roll her eyes in disgust, looking very much like Merry but he didn’t say anything.

“I hate lasses!” Faramir shouted. “You try to help them and they go and turn on you.”

“I hate you too!” Eowyn shouted and she reached over and shoved Faramir who quickly shoved her back.

Pippin reached out a hand and took hold of Faramir’s shirt collar and pulled the lad back. “We do not hit lasses,” he said sternly.

“She hit me first!” Faramir said and he pointed to one of his eyes. “I was trying to defend her from Orin and Otto and she hit me.” He tried to wiggle out of Pippin’s grip but failed.

“I don’t need defending!” Eowyn objected. “I can take care of myself. You and Dernhelm only got in my way, that's all.”

Dernhelm snorted. “The next time, I’ll let the Bracegirdles have you,” he muttered.

Freddy squirmed out of Dernhelm’s arms and ran over to his sister. “I’ll ‘fend you Owyn,” he said.

Merry turned his daughter around to face him and bent down to look at her. “What have I told you about fighting?” he asked.

“Just me and Faramir and Dernhelm can fight ‘cause we’re lads. Isn’t that right, Papa?” Freddy asked.

“We had to,” Dernhelm said. “Those Bracegirdles are always making trouble with us. We can’t just stand there and let them.”

“I don’t want you to stand there and let them hurt you or your sister or anyone else, but I also do not want you fighting like, like, well like_”

Pippin found it hard not to laugh as Merry sighed and pulled his youngest into a hug. “Exactly, Fred,” Merry said. “We are not Bracegirdles. We are Brandybucks.”

“No, you’re not,” Pippin smiled. “But you aren’t supposed to be out fighting all the same.”

Did you?” Pippin asked, looking at his son’s eyes. “Do you think that you got what you deserved in all of this as well?”

“No,” Faramir frowned. “I hit Orin because he was trying to take Eowyn’s shell and I didn’t try to take her old shell but she hit me all the same.” He glanced over at his cousin and then looked back at his father. “I didn’t deserve any of it.”

Eowyn opened her mouth to say something, but Merry pulled one of her curls and she stopped.

“If you get into a fight, sometimes you get hurt whether or deserve to or not,” Pippin said. “Dernhelm said that you hit Orin in the mouth.”

“Maybe he doesn’t see it that way,” Pippin said. “Maybe Orin Bracegirdle is somewhere right now crying his eyes out and moaning about how he didn’t deserve to be punched in the mouth by you. Maybe right this very minute poor Orin is trying to figure out exactly what happened and why you hit him. After all, Orin wasn’t bothering you, was he?”

“I know,” Pippin said. “He probably thought that she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”

“I showed him!” Eowyn said straightening her shoulders and looking proudly at Pippin.

“You did,” Pippin said. Merry frowned at his cousin. Somehow this didn’t seem the proper way to keep his daughter from fighting. “And you showed Faramir as well, didn’t you?” Pippin asked.

“Well, I,” Eowyn frowned. “I didn’t mean to hit Faramir. I was aiming at Orin.”

“Folks can get hurt by accident when a fight is going on,” Pippin said with a shrug. “Look at what happened to poor Fred here.” Pippin pointed to his little nephew. “I believe someone stepped on his hand didn’t they, Fred?”

The little lad nodded. “Otto did and it hurt,” Fred said, raising up his hand so that Pippin could see it properly while Merry rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure it did,” Pippin agreed. “Fights can get out of control and folks that aren’t even involved in them can get hurt.”

“I guess that means that you deserved what you got then,” Pippin said. “If you’re going to fight then you have to be prepared to get hurt.”

“Especially if there’s lasses involved,” Faramir muttered looking at Eowyn.

Faramir followed his father’s gaze and saw the dried blood on his cousin’s legs and the newly forming scabs on her knees. “Does it hurt?” Faramir asked.

“It did,” Eowyn said. “Not much, but it hurt at first.” She looked at him for a minute and asked, “Do your eyes hurt?”

“No,” Faramir said straightening. Merry sighed. Stubborn little Took. Pippin shrugged his shoulders and his eyes twinkled as he looked back at Merry.

“It’s all right,” Faramir said, also meaning it. “You were aiming at Orin.”

Pippin knelt down and let Freddy come over to him. He examined the hand carefully while the others watched. “I think you’re missing a finger, Fred,” Pippin said after completing his examination.

Freddy looked at his hand and began to count his fingers. “One, two, three, four, five,” he said frowning at Pippin. “That’s all of them,” he said.

“Oh,” Pippin said. “I must have miscounted. I thought you had six before.”

“I had only five, didn’t I have only five, Papa?” Freddy asked, looking up at Merry.

“Yes, Fred,” Merry said. He smiled at Pippin. “Your Uncle Pip is teasing you.”

Pippin grinned at the child who charged over and tackled him knocking him back onto the floor. Pippin easily lost his balance as he was sitting on his heels so that he would be on the same level as Fred. Eowyn grinned. “Tickle him, Fred!” she suggested.

“Oh, no,” Pippin said as Eowyn and Faramir joined Freddy. All three of them were tickling him and laughing. Dernhelm snickered and came over and took hold of his uncle’s hands. Pippin laughed. “Merry, do something,” he said in between giggles.

“You started it,” Merry smiled. “When you start something sometimes you get something that you don’t feel you deserve.” He put his hands in his pockets and watched the children wrestle with Pippin and tickle him.

“We’re winning, Papa!” Freddy crowed as he sat on Pippin’s chest and tickled under his uncle’s arms.

“No fair, four against one,” Pippin complained between spurts of helpless laughter.

Diamond and Estella entered the room and looked down at the children who were all tickling Pippin while Merry stood there and watched. Estella raised an eyebrow. “What is this?” she asked, looking over at Merry.

“Mama!” Freddy said excitedly and got up off of Pippin and ran to Estella. “We were winning!”

With Freddy gone, Pippin managed to sit up holding Eowyn under one arm and Faramir under the other one. Dernhelm had stood up quickly when Estella and Diamond had entered the room. He didn’t want to look like one of the children. He was twelve now.

“Tis’nt funny now, is it?” Pippin grinned, letting them go and getting to his feet. “Hullo, Diamond,” he smiled.

“Can’t you behave yourself for five minutes, Peregrin Took?” she asked still grinning.

“Don’t tattle, Merry,” Pippin said as he walked over to greet his wife. Faramir followed and Diamond received a hug from both of them.

“Mama, how many fingers did I have yesterday?” Freddy asked. Estella looked at Merry in confusion.

“Eowyn!” Estella said, noticing her daughter’s knees and the torn skirt. “What happened to you?”

“Probably the same thing that happened to Faramir,” Diamond sighed looking at her son’s eyes, which were both circled in black.

“You two were supposed to be watching these children,” Estella said, looking from Merry to Pippin. “These are your children, Meriadoc!”

“And this one with the black eyes is yours, Peregrin,” Diamond said putting her hands on her hips and glaring at Pippin. “Are you hurt, darling?” she asked looking at Faramir.

“No,” Faramir insisted, looking embarrassed. “Why does everyone ask that?”

Dernhelm grinned at Faramir. The younger lad was determined not to let on that he had been hurt in any way. Dernhelm had been the same at that age. He was still that way.

“What’s wrong with your hand, Freddy?” Estella ask picking up her youngest.

“Yes, about two hours ago,” Dernhelm sighed. Freddy enjoyed letting everyone know about his injuries. Dernhelm wondered if his younger brother would ever out-grow that.

“Well, it still hurts sometimes,” Freddy whined as Estella stroked his curls and grinned at Dernhelm.

“Of course it does, dearest,” Estella said. She looked over at Eowyn. “But just now I need to have a look at your sister’s knees.” She sat the child down, much to his disappointment and went over to her daughter. “Look at you,” Estella sighed. “Have you been fighting again?”

“You come with me and I’ll get you cleaned up,” Estella said, sternly and she glanced over at Merry. “Try not to let anything happen to the other two while I’m gone, will you?”

“No wonder this sort of thing happens,” Diamond said, taking Faramir’s hand. “The way you two carry on. A fine example you’ve set for these children!”

“I’m going with Mama,” Freddy said, quickly. “You and Uncle Pip are in trouble.”

“Sit somewhere and try not to make mischief while I see to this child’s eyes,” Diamond said, looking sternly at Pippin.

Dernhelm grinned at them. “I’m not getting married,” he announced. He then turned and left the room.

Merry and Pippin managed to wait until Dernhelm was gone before they laughed. They both sat down on the sofa and Merry looked over at Pippin and frowned.

“Nothing,” Merry said. “It’s only that I think one of your front teeth might be missing.”

“What?” Pippin sat up straight and began running a finger over his teeth. “Which one?”

“One of the front ones,” Merry frowned. “Maybe one of the children knocked it out while you were playing with them before. Did you feel anything?" Merry peered at Pippin intently.

Pippin continued to check his teeth with his finger. “No,” Pippin said. He stood and went over to the mirror and began looking at his teeth. Merry was snickering. Pippin turned around and glared at him. “That isn’t funny, Merry,” he said.

“Why don’t you go and see if there is any brandy in that decanter on the table,” Merry asked. “I don’t know about you, but I think a drink is in order before the lasses return. I don’t want to explain how their little ones got injured while in our care without some brandy fortifying me.”

Within a few minutes, both hobbits had a full glass of Buckland’s finest brandy and a lit pipe. Wreathed in a smokey cloud of the pleasant smell of Old Toby, the two of them sat on the sofa and sipped their brandy.

Pippin broke the silence first. “Is that the same shell that I remember?” he asked.

“So, it is the one that the Lady Eowyn gave to you while I was away?” Pippin asked.

“The very one,” Merry nodded. He thought of the time that he and Eowyn had spent in the Houses of Healing in Minas Tirith waiting for news of the battle and worrying about their friends and family who had ridden off to the Black Gates of Mordor for the final battle. He and Eowyn had each tried to offer comfort to the other. Merry was angry at being left behind and he was also very worried about all of his friends. He had just recently been reunited with Pippin and now his younger cousin had gone off to battle. Merry feared that Pippin would never return. Merry had been a lone hobbit amid men in a fierce battle himself. He knew how lost Pippin would be among all of those large soldiers once the fighting began.

Eowyn had been heartsick over the death of her dear Uncle, King Theoden of Rohan. She had also been feeling rejected by Aragorn who did not return her love in the way that she had hoped he would. Now, she was frightened for her brother, Eomer who was ridding to battle. She, like Merry, had feared that none would return. The war had seemed lost almost before the soldiers of Gondor and Rohan had left Minas Tirith. Merry had not dared to hope that Frodo and Sam would be successful in their efforts to destroy the One Ring.

“I do, but tell it again just the same,” Pippin said, leaning back against the sofa and finishing his brandy.

“I was feeling very worried,” Merry began. “I didn’t know if I would ever see any of you again. The sky was dark as if it were night though it wasn’t. It was afternoon and there was a stillness about the Houses of Healing. It was almost suffocating. I felt as if the entire place was wrapped in wool to keep out the sound and the air. For some reason, I couldn’t seem to draw a full breath. I felt as if all of the life had drained from my body and that soon I might just sink into nothing.” Merry was very quiet for a moment and Pippin reached over and touched his older cousin’s arm.

Merry sighed and said, “Eowyn was crying. It was the first sound that I had heard all day, or that is how it seemed at the time. I couldn’t remember hearing any other sound until I began to hear her crying in the next room. As you know, she’s a very strong lass and she seldom cries.”

Pippin nodded and he felt the sofa shift slightly as Merry turned to face him. “I got up, though I can’t imagine how. I hadn’t the energy only moments before. Something drew me forward and I found myself going to sit on the side of her cot. She didn’t notice me at first. She just kept crying and I seemed unable to say anything.” Merry smiled at his cousin. “I remember thinking that it was a shame that you weren’t there with me because I knew that you would have said something.”

“Even so, it would have broken the silence,” Merry said. “I just sat there until she looked up and saw me there on the side of her bed. I must have been a ridiculous sight. I was just sitting there, staring at her and doing nothing at all. Her arm was still in a sling and she was sitting with her back propped against several pillows. She was quite pale yet and her eyes were rimmed with red from her tears.”

Merry’s eyes looked distant as if he were seeing the Lady of Rohan as he spoke. Pippin waited, holding his tongue for once.

“I wanted to say something reassuring to this woman who had done so much for me,” Merry said. “It is she who allowed me to ride into battle with her. She is the one who saved me from utter shame. I wanted to do something for her even if it was only something small. I searched the room with my eyes and that was when I saw it.”

“Yes,” Merry answered. “It was sitting on the little table by her bed. I had not seen one so big as that or so beautiful. It drew my attention and she followed my gaze. She smiled through her tears and picked up the seashell and held it out to me. She asked me if I would like to see it and I took it from her and held it. I can remember studying every curve of it and running my fingers over every inch of it. It was a thing of beauty amid so much injury and so much darkness. For some reason that I can’t explain it filled me with hope and I believe that she saw that in my face because when I looked up from the shell, she smiled at me.”

Pippin’s pipe had gone out but he didn’t bother to light it again. He merely held it in his hand and continued to look at Merry. Merry took a puff of his own pipe and said, “I asked her about the shell. It was strange. I had no need to ask her why she had been crying. It seemed perfectly reasonable to me that she would cry under the circumstances. I had cried many times. I didn’t need to know what reason she had chosen to cry this time, but I did want to know about the sea shell.” Merry smiled. “She told me that it had been a gift from her Uncle, King Theoden, when she had been a very small child of ten. She said that he had brought the shell to her when he had returned from his travels one time and that is when she told me that I should put the shell to my ear and listen.”

“I was transfixed by the sound,” Merry said. “She told me that it was the echo of the sea that I was hearing and I never doubted her words though it seemed impossible to me. I don’t know how long I sat with Eowyn’s shell to my ear listening to the sound of waves that I had never seen. I don’t know how long she watched me sit there. I only know that the first thing that I was aware of when I managed to lower the shell from my ear was the light.”

Merry ignored this and said, “As I lowered the shell, light seemed to feel the room and for just a minute I felt as if Eowyn’s shell had taken me away to the Over Heavens because everything was bathed in a soft light. I stood and looked at the window and saw the sun for the first time in a very long time. Eowyn saw it too and both of us just stood there looking out of the window and smiling. I knew then that the battle was over. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that the Dark Lord had not got his ring back. I could see the sun again and that was evidence enough for me that the Dark Lord had been defeated. I didn’t know how he had been defeated, but as sure as the sun was coming into the room, I knew.” Merry frowned at Pippin. “What I didn’t know was if any of you were yet alive to share my view of the sunlight.”

“I dare say that I did not see the sunlight that day,” Pippin said with a slight quirk of a smile playing on his lips. “Something was blocking my view of it all.”

Merry smiled and got up to refill his glass. He brought the decanter of brandy back and refilled Pippin’s glass too before continuing. “As Eowyn and I stood there looking at the sun gleaming off of the White City, I wished silently that Frodo and Sam were safe and that you weren’t in too much trouble,” he said and mussed Pippin’s hair as he’d done when Pippin had been small.

“Not too much,” Pippin said taking a sip of his brandy. “Finish the story if you please.”

“You’ve heard this a million times, Peregrin,” Merry sighed trying to pretend that he was annoyed.

“She suddenly laughed,” Merry said. “Then she reached over and picked up the shell which I had left lying on the bed. She pushed it into my hands and she said, ‘I want you to have this.’ I tried to argue with her. I told her that it was a gift to her from her Uncle and she said, ‘I want you to have it and I think that he would approve of my choice.’” Pippin mouthed the last words of the tale along with Merry. “It was given to me to enjoy and to do with what I pleased and it would please me to know that you have it. Someday, you may chose to give it away for reasons of your own, but I want you to have it now.”

Merry grinned at Pippin and continued. “I never thought that I would give so lovely a gift to anyone. I thought that one of my greatest joys would be to have that shell and to listen to the water trapped within it and think of my friend and remember the return of the sunlight.”

“But, one day just after a very big storm as the sun was peeking through the clouds, I gave the seashell away,” Merry said. “I had been in bed with a rather nasty cold for several days and the storm had not improved my mood in the least. Suddenly, I saw a little curly head peering at me from the foot of my bed. My little Eowyn was almost seven. She was standing there holding the seashell in her chubby little fingers and looking at me. ‘Can I listen to the water, Papa?’ she asked and she climbed up on the bed with me. Instead of listening to it herself she pushed the sea shell to my ear and asked, ‘Can you hear it?’ That is when the sun came through my window and I just knew that it was time to give the sea shell away.”

Pippin smiled and leaned further back against the sofa and put his feet on Estella’s favorite coffee table. “I just love that story,” he sighed polishing off the last of his drink.

Pippin jumped at the sound of Estella’s voice and quickly pulled his feet off of the table. Merry hid a smile behind his brandy glass. “Sorry,” Pippin said noticing the look in those eyes of Estella’s.

“I think you should take your wife for a stroll in the garden before you get into serious trouble,” Diamond said from the doorway. “Faramir is playing with Eowyn and Freddy. The children should be fine with Estella here.” She smiled at the frown that creased Merry’s brow.

“Excellent idea,” Pippin said getting to his feet and nearly tripping over them as he made his way to her side. “We’ll just be outside then,” he said somewhat nervously to Estella as Merry began to snicker from his place on the sofa. Pippin frowned at Merry as Diamond pulled him from the room, her tiny hand holding firmly to his wrist.

When the Tooks had left, Estella sat down next to Merry and said, “Tell me again exactly why you named our daughter after a warrior.”

Merry smiled. It seemed to be a day for the telling tales. He let her settle into the crook of his arm and cleared his throat. “Well, when our daughter was born…..”

It was frustrating really. That was all there was to it. He didn’t like to think of the time he’d spent on this and with no results to show for it save the fact that he’d wasted a perfectly good afternoon that he could have spent elsewhere doing something enjoyable. Why had he let himself believe that he could actually manage to pull something like this off on his own? It probably wouldn’t even work. Of course there was no knowing that unless the trap was actually sprung and that seemed very unlikely now.

Pippin frowned over at the slightly open door. He let his eyes move up to the perfectly balanced bucket that sat on top of the edge of the door just waiting to be tipped over. The bucket had been there in that very spot now for nearly two hours without anyone pushing the door open and causing the bucket to empty its contents onto the head of the hobbit responsible for this wasted effort. Just exactly where was Merry anyway?

Pippin sighed and shifted his position. He was starting to get tired of keeping watch on the door. He had put in a great deal of work earlier and he was starting to feel sleepy. Pulling off pranks wasn’t as easy as some folks might think. It took effort and planning to execute them properly. This was especially true if the prank in question was one that you’d never actually seen accomplished before.

For years Pippin had heard the stories about the time that Frodo had placed a bucket full of flour on the very top of Bilbo’s study door in the hopes of pulling a prank on his favorite relative. Frodo had been eighteen and had come for a visit to Bag End, or that was how the story usually went. Pippin had heard eighteen most often but some folks told that Frodo was twenty and Pippin had even heard that Frodo was only twelve in one astonishing version. Pippin doubted, now that he’d tried the trick himself, that a mere lad of twelve could have got the bucket up on a door. The round edge of the door made it imperative that one got the bucket exactly in the center-most spot on the door or else the bucket would simply fall to the side and spoil the trick before the intended victim ever actually arrived. So far, Pippin’s intended victim had failed to show up. Just where was Merry?

Getting back to the story about Frodo and the original bucket trick, Pippin remembered that Frodo had filled the bucket with flour and had set it in place and then Frodo had sat down at Bilbo’s desk to wait. In the story, Bilbo had arrived soon after Frodo had finished setting things up, unlike Merry who had yet to arrive at all! Bilbo had said something like. ‘Frodo are you in there?’ and then he had pushed the door to the room open and got quite a surprise. This was always Pippin’s favorite part of the story. Everyone that told it spent a good deal of time describing how Bilbo had looked when he was coated with flour. In fact it had never occurred to Pippin until just this minute but none of the folks that told the story had been there when it had happened and so Pippin wondered if Frodo had described Bilbo’s appearance to them or if they had just imagined what Bilbo might look like all covered in flour. Pippin had imagined what Merry would look like covered in flour and he had been very pleased with the image.

He could just imagine Merry slowly pushing the door to the room open and the bucket emptying onto Merry’s head and coating Merry with flour. He also had enjoyed picturing the astonished look on Merry’s face. Then he had further enjoyed hearing Merry say, ‘Pippin! When I catch you I am going to kill you!’ That part was only funny because of the open window. Pippin had been a very careful planner this time. He had even planned his escape. Before sitting down on Merry’s bed to wait for the payoff to his trick, Pippin had opened the window wide enough for an escape. He would enjoy the look on Merry’s face, as he stood there covered in flour all flustered and trying to brush the flour off of himself. He would enjoy it when Merry managed to get the flour out of his eyes and when Merry saw him sitting there laughing then he would jump up from the bed and scurry right out the window before Merry could get his wits about him. The last thing Pippin would enjoy was hearing Merry say, ‘Pippin! When I catch you I am going to kill you!’

Pippin sighed and shifted on the bed again. He really hated to get up and go over there and take the bucket down after all of the work it had been to position it. He was also not about to crawl out of the window and leave his prank unattended. He didn’t want to miss the finish of it whenever Merry arrived. If he left that would be exactly when Merry would walk into the room. The prank would still happen but Merry wouldn’t know who had performed such a brilliant trick on him. Pippin would also miss out on seeing it all and then years later when someone told the story there wouldn’t be anyone about that knew how Merry looked when he was coated in flour. The story wouldn't have that same amusing description like the one about Frodo and Bilbo had without a witness. Pippin was extremely bored just now though. Maybe he could write a note and leave it on the bed for Merry to find.

Merry wouldn’t be in the mood to look around for a note when he was coated with flour and left wondering who he should kill, would he? No, Merry would most likely do a lot of yelling, dust himself off and then charge out of the room in search of whoever had pranked him. Merry wouldn’t think it was Pippin because this trick was just too well thought out to be one of Pippin’s tricks. Even Pippin wouldn’t think that it was his own trick if he hadn’t just spent several hours waiting for Merry and if he hadn’t spent at least two hours setting the entire thing up. That was the trouble with pranks. You went to a great deal of effort and so it was very hard not to want credit for your work.

Pippin yawned and stretched out on the bed. A quick nap might not be a bad idea. It would be time for dinner soon and Merry would be back for dinner. Merry would come into his room to wash up for the evening meal and instead of washing up he’d get a face full of flour for his trouble. A quick nap wouldn’t hurt and then Pippin reasoned, he would be awake and properly able to enjoy the end result of his prank.

There was a noise somewhere. Footsteps maybe? Pippin wasn’t sure since he was only slightly awake. Someone out in the hall. Voices. Two of them. One a lass’s voice and one Merry’s! Pippin sat up and immediately looked toward the door. Merry was back. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stared at the door, willing it to open. He gave a quick glance up toward the bucket to make sure that it was still in place and then the door began to move! Pippin was excited beyond words. He had to put both hands over his mouth to keep from laughing with joy as he watched the bucket slowly tip over as the door opened wider. Then his heart was suddenly in his throat and his eyes were as wide as saucers. His hands fell away from his mouth and he shouted a warning. “No, go back!” But unfortunately, it was too late for that.

There was a loud thunk as the bucket crashed down from the top of the door and dumped all of its floury contents out. Pippin watched in horror as the bucket came to rest upside down on top of his Aunt Esmeralda’s flour-coated head. There stood Merry’s mum with a large bucket over her head and flour all over her. Pippin was completely immobilized by fear. He sat there on Merry’s bed as his dear Aunt weaved about in an effort to keep her balance. He could hear her coughing and sputtering and, and, swearing! Aunt Esmeralda was actually swearing! A part of him was frantically yelling, ‘Pippin you idiot, get out of the window before she gets that bucket off of her head and sees you!’ but another part of him was yelling, ‘Pippin! You’ve killed her! She’s going to fall over on the floor in Merry’s room and just drop dead from the shock or maybe the blow to the head.’ All of this was going on inside Pippin’s mind but his body wasn’t doing anything. He was just sitting there with his mouth hanging open while his Aunt spun in a circle and waved her arms about like a wind mill.

Pippin coughed as the air in Merry’s bedroom filled with flour dust. Aunt Esmeralda certainly was stirring about enough and the flour had spread out more than Pippin would have thought possible. In that story about Frodo and Bilbo, the flour was all on Bilbo and Pippin didn’t remember the bucket hitting Bilbo in the head either. That was a surprise. Pippin had once got a bucket stuck on his own head and he hoped that this bucket wasn’t stuck on Aunt Esme’s head. What had happened to the bucket in Frodo’s prank? Why hadn’t anyone ever said anything about that bucket hitting Bilbo in the head? Why was it that folks couldn’t tell a story properly without leaving out important bits like what happened to the bucket?

Pippin groaned softly and that was when the hic-ups began. Sometimes when he was very nervous, Pippin would get the hic-ups. Naturally, he had plenty to be nervous about just now and so he had the hic-ups. As he watched his favorite Aunt come to a stop near the foot of Merry’s bed and pull the bucket from her flour-covered head, Pippin hic-upped several times. He watched as his Aunt shook her head like a wet dog, which threw flour all over Pippin, and he watched as she rubbed the flour out of her eyes. That was when he squeezed his own eyes shut and silently wished he’d listened to that voice that told him to go out the window earlier.

“Peregrin Took did you have anything to do with this?” his Aunt’s voice asked in a very low, very controlled tone unlike the voice he’d heard her use earlier when she’d been spinning in a circle and swearing. That voice had been shrill and loud. This voice was far more dangerous than that one.

Pippin opened his eyes a tiny bit and then tried to say something but only managed to hic-up loudly. He put his hand over his mouth and nodded his head as she glared through flour-ringed eyes at him while holding the now-empty bucket in her hands.

Pippin could see Merry leaning against the doorframe and watching everything with a very amused look on his face. Somehow, that was the worst part of this. At least it had seemed like the worst part right up until his Aunt had begun to lecture him. That had seemed like the worst part until she had set him to cleaning Merry’s room. Pippin came to realize just how hard it was to clean flour up. It was especially hard if someone had shook it out of their hair and brushed it off of their clothes and just generally made things much worse than they had to be, but telling Aunt Esme that she’d made a bigger mess of things didn’t seem like a good idea. Besides, it was very hard to talk properly when you were hic-cupping constantly.

Later as Pippin lay in his own bed trying to quit hic-upping, Aunt Esme came in with a glass of water. She hadn’t spoken to him since she’d set him to cleaning Merry’s room, which had taken him several hours. The flour was on every surface in the entire room and even out in the hallway. He had also had to clean up the trail of flour that his Aunt had left when she stormed out of Merry's room on her way to clean herself up. Just before she had left she had told him, “As soon as you finish that, Peregrin Took, you will go straight to your room and stay there until I am through being angry with you. I will have all of your meals sent in and you will not set one furry toe out of your room until I say that you may!” Now, here she was bringing him water for his ever-present hic-ups.

“Drink this,” she said gently as she handed him the glass and looked over at his nearly full dinner plates. Pippin hadn't been very hungry this evening and the hic-ups made it difficult to eat. Every time he went to swallow he would hic-up and his food would come right back up. After attempting to eat the same piece of cheese several times only to have it returned by a sudden hic-up, Pippin had finally given up the effort altogether. It didn't make for a pleasant meal when what you were trying to eat kept escaping.

Pippin returned his attention to the offered glass of water and gratefully took it with both hands and drank. “You were sup-*hic* posed-to be Merry,” he said lamely after finishing the water.

She took the glass from his hands and sat it on the table by the bed. “I figured out that much of it while I was taking a bath,” Esmeralda said.

“I didn’t mean-*hic* for the flour to fall on-*hic* you, honestly,” Pippin apologized earnestly. “It-*hic* was a prank.”

“Sometimes pranks don’t come off as planned, do they?” his Aunt said with a slight smile.

Pippin shook his head. “No,” he managed looking down at his blankets to avoid her gaze. “I don’t under-*hic* stand about the bucket.”

“I’ve been trying to-*hic* puzzle it out all-*hic* evening and I can’t figure it,” Pippin admitted. He had been trying to figure out the bucket. “I never meant to-*hic* hit anyone in the-*hic* head with a bucket! Not even-*hic* Merry,” he explained.

“Well what in all the wide world of the Shire did you think would happen to the bucket?” Esmeralda said in a very Tookish tone. “You couldn’t have thought it would just up and float away.”

Pippin shook his head and looked at her. “I didn’t think -*hic* about it at all. It wasn’t told about in-*hic* the story so I didn’t -*hic* figure on it or what it-*hic* would do.”

“About the-*hic* time that Fro-*hic*” Pippin groaned in frustration. These hic-ups were driving him mad and they made explaining anything nearly impossible.

“That story about the time that Frodo dumped a bucket of flour on Bilbo?” Esmeralda said helping him out.

“So that’s where you got the idea for this bit ‘o mischief is it?” she smiled.

“The bucket is supposed to be tied to the top of the door frame with a short rope so that when the bucket falls all it does is dump out its contents onto the victim,” Esmeralda said. “That keeps it from nearly knocking the hobbit that you are tricking unconscious.”

Pippin’s face must have shown his alarm at the mention of knocking someone unconscious because suddenly his Aunt had her arms around him and she was giving him a hug and rubbing his back as he hic-upped against her shoulder. “I didn’t-*hic* meant to hurt-*hic* you,” he managed.

“Pippin, darlin’ you didn’t hurt me,” she assured him. “It landed so that it only startled me more than anything.” She chuckled and Pippin pulled back and looked up at her in amazement. “I must have looked a sight with that bucket on my head and me all covered with flour!”

She smiled at him. “You lay down and go to sleep now. You didn’t hurt me and I suspect that I’ve recovered from the shock.”

“It wouldn’t have been so bad if someone had told me about the rope but every time I heard the story folks just left out the rope,” Pippin complained. “That’s an important detail for them to leave out, don’t you think?”

“I do indeed,” Esmeralda replied rubbing her head and smiling. “I think it would have been better for all concerned if someone had told you about the rope.”

Pippin lay down and let his favorite Aunt tuck him in as if he were much younger than eighteen and just as she stood he thought to ask, “Am I still stuck in this room tomorrow?”

“Yes, you are,” she said gently. “But I suppose that I’ll let you out at dinner time as long as you don’t take it into your head to dump anything else on top of me.”

“That seems more than fair,” Pippin sighed. Then he sat up and grinned at her. “My hic-ups are gone!”

“Yes they are,” she said. “Now, off to sleep with you. I’ll see you at first breakfast when I bring your tray in to you, you wicked child.”

Pippin lay back down, smiling. “Good-night,” he said softly as she left the room and closed the door behind her. He really did think that he’d got off rather easily. He had dumped a bucket of flour on her and hit her with the bucket in the bargain. It was a good thing that she wasn’t Merry or he’d be in for a return prank. At least this way all he got was a day in his room and a cleaning job. Besides, he’d learned several very important things today. First, always get the entire story behind something even if you have to pin folks down and ask questions. If he’d have done that then surely someone would have mentioned the rope. Second, never count on Merry to show up for anything on time. Third, even with planning a prank can still go wrong. But the most important lesson of all was that he now knew exactly why his Aunt Esmeralda was his favorite Aunt.

Pippin sighed and turned over to go to sleep. The next time, he’d know about the rope and he planned to have a long talk with Frodo about all of this when next he saw him. Frodo had some explaining to do about this rope business!

This one is a bit of a part 2 to the story just before this, "The Best Made Plans of Peregrin Took". You don't have to read that one to read this one, but it helps a bit. This one is set post quest and refers to "Best Made Plans". Frodo, Merry, Pippin and a bit of Sam.

I watch from my chair in the far corner of the room and I can’t help but smile at the young hobbit holding everyone’s attention with the yarn that he is so artfully spinning. Several of his listeners are laughing so hard that they are doubled over and I see tears of mirth in the eyes of more than one of them. The story is one that has been told repeatedly but we hobbits enjoy hearing a good tale told again and again most especially if the story is a favorite such as this one is and if the hobbit telling it can bring something new to it.

I study the young hobbit carefully. I smile when I am satisfied that I see no traces of our journey in his manner save for a bit more self-confidence. The bright green eyes twinkle with mischief and the lips quirk up in a fashion that lets all of his listeners know that he isn’t afraid to laugh at himself. He holds his shoulders straight and sits tailor fashion on an old rug with his back to the hearth. I have to smile as I see him run his fingers absently over the elaborate gold trim on his new waistcoat. He’s been admiring it all evening and now when he is surrounded by avid listeners he still can’t help himself.

The waistcoat was a birthday gift. I was there when Merry gave it to him just before the party. Merry had handed him the carefully wrapped package and said, “Here, Pip. I can’t have you looking your usual fright at my thirty-ninth birthday.” Pippin had pretended to be insulted for all of about five seconds. Then when he’d opened the gift and seen the handsome dark green waistcoat with the gold trim his pretense had faded and he’d hurriedly tried it on. From the delighted expression on his face, you would have thought that Merry had given him two sacks filled with diamonds and jewels rather than a waistcoat.

“You’ve given me something proper!” Pippin had declared as Merry and I laughed at him. He had blushed then but had wrapped his arms around Merry and hugged him fiercely. All evening Merry and I had gained great amusement by watching Pippin admire himself in every reflective surface that he encountered. Pippin has never been one to care about his appearance very much and so it is quite funny to see him so taken with his own reflection.

“No, thank you, Sam,” I reply with a reassuring smile for my dearest friend. He worries too much about me and so I do try to look light-hearted as often as is possible. “I am just enjoying Pippin’s story-telling. He has them all in the palm of his hand tonight.”

Sam looks up at Pippin and then says with a shrug. “He always has folks in the palm ‘o his hand.”

I really can’t argue with that statement for Pippin has always been a charmer. From his place by the mantle, Merry sees us and gives me a nod and a grin as a wave of laughter flows through Pippin’s audience. The birthday lad looks relaxed and happy as he leans against the mantle with a glass of brandy in one hand. I give him a wave of my hand and smile back. Merry worries almost as much as Sam does and I don’t want to spoil his special night. It has crossed my mind that I’ll not be around for too many more birthday celebrations and so I am trying my best to make this one count.

Satisfied with my apparent mood, Merry turns his attention back to Pippin who is now describing my beloved Bilbo all coated in flour. As Pippin regales Merry’s party guests with the details of Bilbo’s appearance, he looks at me and winks quickly. I wink back. Sam catches us both, raises an eyebrow in curiosity, but doesn’t ask. I am grateful for that because this is a small secret between Pippin and I. It goes back about twelve years now.

As I watch the newly mature Pippin who now sits and entertains Merry’s party guests I can still see the flustered eighteen-year-old that I found standing on my stoop late one afternoon. I had just finished washing up my dishes from afternoon tea when I’d heard a knock on my front door.

“Pippin!” I grinned. “What a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know you were in Hobbiton. Come in, lad.” I held the door open wide and Pippin strode inside like someone on a mission.

“Frodo, Uncle Doc says to tell you that he and Merry are having a pint at the Green Dragon and for you to come and join them,” Pippin said breathlessly.

“I’ll just get my coin purse and go right along,” I said but I found that Pippin was blocking my way.

“Please don’t go just yet,” he said hurriedly. “I can’t come into the Dragon with you because it’s after luncheon and I’m not allowed this close to evening hours and I need to speak to you but if you go to the Dragon I won’t get a chance. Please?”

This sudden rush of words startled me. Pippin often managed to overwhelm me with his rapid speech and I hadn’t seen him in several months so I was quite out of the habit of listening properly. I must have looked completely puzzled because he slowed it down and tried again. “I need to ask you about something, Frodo,” Pippin said. I could see him trying to speak slower. He was struggling to hold back the rush of words that threatened to drownd us both. “If you go now, then I won’t be alone with you and I don’t want anyone to know that I asked you this.” That was when he sped up again. “Aunt Esmeralda only let me come to give you the message and then if you go I’m to come back and follow her about to several shops in the market while she looks at cloth and hats and buys dishes and whatever else she likes that I don’t care for at all.”

“Easy, Pippin,” I laughed. “I suppose that you and I could sit here for a while and talk if it will help you escape an afternoon of shopping.”

He gulped for breath and looked slightly relieved. “I don’t know why I can’t go into the Dragon after five. I can go in there before five and I would do the very same thing after five that I do before five. I would just be doing it later in the day. Just what is it that happens in there after five, Frodo?” Pippin asked as I tried my best to lead him to the kitchen. My plan was to feed him. I figured if he were filling his mouth with food and drink he would have to speak slower or he would surely choke.

“What?” he looked confused as we reached the kitchen. “Oh, no. I wonder about that but it isn’t at all why I’m here now. I need to ask you a question about Bilbo.”

This took me by surprise because Pippin had been but eleven when Bilbo had left the Shire. Pippin had adored Bilbo but he didn’t speak of him often simply because I suspect he didn’t remember him nearly as well as Merry and I. “Sit down and I will get us something to drink, Pippin,” I offered. “Then you can ask me your question about Bilbo. I will be most happy to help you if I can at all.”

“Well, if you can’t then no one can,” Pippin said tartly. “I can’t ask Bilbo and you were the only other one there at the time so it has to be you.”

“Very well,” I said. I might find myself confused by the speed of Pippin’s speech but I was very well acquainted with his blunt mannerisms. Pippin never meant to be insulting or rude but he often managed both simply because he was so very out spoken. I quickly poured him a large cup of cold milk and sat this and a plate of freshly baked oatmeal cookies in front of him.

As I sat down across from him with a cup of milk for myself he got to the point. “Frodo, when you pulled that prank on Bilbo with the bucket of flour how old were you?” he asked ignoring the milk and cookies in a very unhobbit-like manner.

“I was your age,” I answered carefully. This was not my favorite topic and I was wondering why it had come up just now but Pippin didn’t give me too much time to think on that.

“Why doesn’t anyone ever explain about the rope when they tell the story?” Pippin asked.

“Rope?” I frowned. “Pippin, if you are thinking of using this trick on-“

“You’re too late to warn me, Frodo,” Pippin admitted in a rather embarrassed tone. “I tried it last week and it didn’t go the way I’d planned it. That’s why I have to know about the rope and you are the only one that can help me. You see, I nearly knocked Aunt Esme unconscious with that bucket and it was all because I didn’t know about the rope.”

“Aunt Esme?” I said completely shocked. “You actually pulled this prank on your Aunt? Peregrin Took, I am surprised at you!”

“No, Frodo,” Pippin said quickly. “I was trying to prank Merry but Aunt Esme came into Merry’s room instead of Merry and the whole thing went wrong at that point.”

I relaxed a bit for knowing that Pippin hadn’t actually been trying to dump flour on Merry’s mother but I was still completely confused as to why he was telling me all of this.

“I set the trick up just like I’d heard folks say it went when they told the story,” Pippin said. “I put a full bucket of flour over Merry’s door and I had it perfectly balanced and everything. It isn’t all that easy to do as I am sure you must know having done it yourself.”

“And to make matters worse, Merry was late in returning and I spent the entire afternoon waiting in his room for him to come in so that I could prank him,” Pippin said, finally noticing the cookies and taking one. “I wasted an entire day on it all and then wound up in my room the entire next day because I had dumped flour on Aunt Esme instead of Merry. I lost two days of my summer on this and so naturally I want to know why it is that no one ever mentions the rope.”

“Well, not really,” he said taking a large bite of the cookie and chewing quickly. “It’s only that I could have killed her with that bucket if it hadn’t landed straight over her head the way it did. She could have been hurt and it would have been my fault and that’s all down to no one mentioning the rope.”

I had to fight the urge to laugh as I pictured my tall, imposing Cousin Esmeralda covered in flour with a bucket over her head. But Pippin wasn’t paying attention to my efforts and he continued. “It isn’t fair that when folks recount your prank they leave out details, Frodo.”

“Pippin, can you keep a secret?” I asked him and mercifully, this got his attention. Pippin was always pleased when anyone trusted him with a secret.

“Of course I can, Frodo,” Pippin said looking hopefully at me now. He was always trying so hard to please Merry and I and to seem older. Secret keeping was something that he’d worked long and hard on because his natural impulse is to tell whatever comes to mind. He had only just begun to be able to keep a confidence recently and he was eager to prove himself with the new opportunity that I was offering him. “I won’t tell anyone. Not even Merry if you say so,” Pippin said looking desperately earnest.

“Pippin, you and I don’t have any real secrets that are just ours really,” I said slowly. “Most of the secrets that we share with one another are also known by Merry or even several other folks. This will be the first time that you and I have our own special secret. I am trusting you with this and I hope you won’t let me down because this secret involves Bilbo.”

“Bilbo?” Pippin looked impressed. He knew that I rarely shared anything private about Bilbo with anyone.

“Yes, because as you pointed out when this conversation first began, only Bilbo and I were there when the original flour prank took place,” I said. “This secret is one that I have only shared with Bilbo. Now that Bilbo is away, I am going to trust you with it.”

Pippin managed to look nervous and thrilled all at the same time. The two emotions fought for control of his face and thrilled finally won out. “Oh, Frodo, I promise. I may not be old enough to be in The Green Dragon after five but I can keep a secret,” Pippin declared.

He leaned forward intently and that was how he remained the entire time that I was telling him my story. He looked at me as if he were preparing to memorize my every word.

“We had been up late the night before,” I began. “Bilbo had allowed me to stay up and visit with him and several of the dwarves who had come by on their way to Bree. I had been very entertained by their stories and had heard a great many tales that I never heard Bilbo speak of before. One of these involved a couple of lads who somehow managed to drop a bucket of flour over the head of Bilbo’s father. I was so impressed with that particular prank because Bilbo said it had been glorious. He went on further to say that he wished he’ d been the one to do it but that he wasn’t. He said that he had only seen it.”

“I went to bed that night planning how I might pull that very trick on Bilbo. You see I could tell that he was impressed with the lads who had been brave enough to attempt it and clever enough to pull it off and naturally, I wanted to impress Bilbo. I had decided that this was the way to do that very thing. I would impress him by pulling the prank that he so admired. I would impress him further still by managing to pull the prank on him.”

Pippin sat there slowly munching cookie after cookie while I continued my narrative. Anyone who knew him at that age might have been sure that I’d turned him to stone because the lad was never that still or that quiet for that long.

“I was spending an entire month with Bilbo. This was nearly four years before I moved in with him here at Bag End. I planned the trick out for days and I had decided that my location would be his study. It seemed perfect to me because he came into his study every single day after luncheon and was in there for several hours while I amused myself by reading and walking in the garden. I had got up the night before and hidden an entire sack of flour in the study behind a large stack of books. I don’t know if you remember or not but Bilbo was not one for house keeping and often had large stacks of books just sitting about, especially in the study.”

Pippin nodded so that I might know that he remembered but he didn’t say anything so I continued. “I had already hidden a bucket in there behind the sofa after supper while Bilbo was having a pipe with the Gaffer and so I was ready to pull off my prank. I had my flour and my bucket and I had chosen my location.”

Pippin looked impressed with my planning as he took a long drink of milk and selected another cookie. “The next day about an hour before luncheon I asked Bilbo’s permission to use his study to write a letter to Uncle Saradoc. I often wrote to Buckland while visiting and so that was a fairly clever excuse to use and Bilbo didn’t seem to take any notice of it. He gave me permission and even told me that I could use one of his newer quills for my letter. I must admit that I had a slight pang of guilt at that moment but it only lasted for a minute or two. I was soon thinking how glorious it would be if I managed to play what seemed to me to be one of Bilbo’s favorite pranks. I reasoned that I shouldn’t feel guilty because in the end, Bilbo would be proud of me.”

Pippin smiled and finished his milk. He was still playing me his complete attention.

“I found a small step ladder that Bilbo kept in the study and quickly set to work. As you know balancing the bucket on the rounded top of the door is dreadfully difficult and so I was a very long time getting that exactly right. Filling the bucket before hand was no trouble at all but that business of balancing it and leaving the door open just enough was very tricky. I had nearly decided to give up when I finally managed it.”

Pippin was looking puzzled now but he still didn’t interrupt me. “I sat down at Bilbo’s desk and waited. I didn’t have to wait long because Bilbo soon came to get me for luncheon. That was what I’d been counting on when I selected the time of my prank. I knew that he would walk into the study to get me for luncheon. Now, this is where everything begins to go wrong.”

Pippin looked at me in surprise. He wrinkled his nose a bit and frowned because as far as he knew nothing had gone wrong. The prank had gone off splendidly. I was about to ruin his opinion of this particular prank for good and all and I did wonder if I were doing the right thing but I kept hearing him ask about a rope and so I knew that this was probably for the best. Once Pippin gets hold of an idea, he doesn’t let go until he is satisfied with his answers so telling him the truth was the best thing.

I hurried on with my tale. “I was very pleased when I heard Bilbo approaching the door to the study. I even heard him call out to me but of course I didn’t answer because I wanted him to open the door. The prank wouldn’t work if he didn’t open the door and so I waited. Suddenly I could see the tiniest shift in the door and I actually saw the bucket quiver slightly. Then I heard it. The sound of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins’s shrill voice calling out, “Bilbo Baggins! I know you’re home I smell stew cooking!”

Pippin’s mouth fell open and his eyes widened. He wasn’t expecting Lobelia and frankly I hadn’t been either. I sighed and continued. “Lobelia’s voice has always had a peculiar affect on Bilbo and he actually shudders whenever he hears it. I could just imagine him with his hand on the doorknob about to come in and complete my prank and then Lobelia spoiled the entire thing because instead of opening the door to the study, Bilbo closed it! He pulled the door completely shut and I hear him say, “Save yourself, lad. Count to ten and then go out the window and eat in town while I get rid of her.”

Pippin giggled a bit at that part and I returned his smile. “Well, I don’t have to tell you what happened to the bucket at that moment. It was knocked to the floor on my side of the study and flour went everywhere. Bilbo didn’t hear the racket that it made because Lobelia was shouting for him again and I could hear him hurrying toward the kitchen.”

Pippin and I sat there looking at one another and finally Pippin said, “You mean it didn’t work? You didn’t actually dump flour all over Bilbo?”

“Then why does everyone say that you did?” Pippin frowned. “I’ve heard that story all of my life. Everyone tells it and in every single version of it, Bilbo gets coated with flour and you are successful. Bilbo is shocked at first but he quickly recovers and thinks it a wonderful joke on him. He always laughs and everyone that tells the story talks about how clever you were and how amused Bilbo was. They all claim to have heard Bilbo himself tell the story!”

“That last part is entirely true,” I told him. “Bilbo did tell the story and with each telling it became better and better and I became more clever and Bilbo was covered in more flour with each telling. But I am telling you now that it didn’t happen the way that you’ve always heard that it did.”

“You mean to say that Bilbo lied?” Pippin said, cutting to the very blunt fact of it all in the way that he always did.

“Yes, he did,” I said. “You see, Pippin he came in later and found me trying desperately to clean up his study. I had flour all over myself and it seems that the more you sweep flour-“

“It took me a very long time too,” I said. “You see, Pippin the thing you have to know about Bilbo is that he loves a great story and he also loves me very much. Naturally he realized at once that I had been trying to impress him. He actually got a bit teary eyed when he realized that I had gone to all of that trouble. In fact, he didn’t punish me. He just made me clean it all up.”

“Bilbo might have felt less flattered if I had actually succeeded,” I grinned at my younger cousin. “Since I managed to fail so spectacularly he got slightly emotional over it all. I begged him not to tell Saradoc and Esme about it because I knew that they would not be pleased with me in the least. Bilbo thought I was embarrassed because the trick had not gone off properly but I was worried about being punished. Bilbo also enjoyed blaming my failure on Lobelia. He liked to blame Lobelia for anything that he could and so this pleased him to have something new that he could dislike her for.”

Pippin laughed. “But even you don’t mention the rope when you tell it,” he said suddenly serious.

“You mean that you didn’t have a rope either?” Pippin said in astonishment.

“No, I didn’t know I was supposed to have one until Bilbo asked me where I had tied it to,” Frodo laughed. “So, your prank was actually more successful than mine. You did manage to cover someone in flour. I missed completely and neither of us had a rope. That, my dear cousin, is why there is never any mention of a rope when the story is told.”

“Bilbo made it all up and told it in the way that made me sound the most impressive,” Frodo smiled. “He was the one that first told the tale and started it spreading around. He thought I would be pleased by it. For years I was embarrassed whenever it was mentioned because I knew the real story and even though Bilbo made it sound wonderfully funny, I knew that it wasn’t like that at all. Later, I realized that Bilbo was trying to make me look impressive to others and that he was already quite fond of me in spite of my failure to perform the prank.”

“But he told it so very well,” Pippin said, still amazed. “I heard him tell it at least twice when I was very small and I laughed and so did everyone else.”

“I think that after telling it for so long and telling it so well that Bilbo actually came to believe it himself, Pippin,” I explained. I really do believe that he convinced himself that it happened in just that way. “Now do you see why I told you that this was a secret?”

“I do,” Pippin said. “I promise that I will never tell another soul about this, Frodo as long as I live.” His green eyes were filled with a rare seriousness as he promised me this.

“I know you will,” I said. “But please don’t take it there any time soon."

He smiled shyly at me. "You know what I mean. I promise that I won't tell this to anyone, ever," Pippin said.

"Thank you, Pippin. You see, I don’t want anyone to think unkindly of Bilbo and so I don’t want them to know that he lied a bit to make the story more entertaining or to make me sound impressive.”

“Besides all of that,” Pippin said quite seriously. “It’s a wonderful tale and it would completely spoil it to change it now.”

I listen as Pippin begans to describe Bilbo. “There he stood, all covered in flour and looking like a snow hobbit. All anyone could have seen of him was his eyes peering out of all of that white. He just stood there completely surprised by it all with no idea how this could have happened to him right in his very own study!” Everyone is laughing as Pippin pauses to allow them time to enjoy the image of Bilbo covered in flour. Pippin is becoming quite masterful at story telling. Most of the Tooks do have a gift for it. It was most likely from his Took side of the family that Bilbo inherited his talent for the telling of tales.

Pippin looks toward me again and winks and then his attention is back on his audience. He is telling them how impressed Bilbo was with my planning and how very clever I was for a young lad of fourteen. Pippin has always thought that twelve was too young an age to be believable but that fourteen was much more impressive than eighteen. Whenever he recounts the tale, I am fourteen in it and I always remembered the rope.

It has been Pippin’s distinct pleasure to include a detailed account of how the bucket is attached to something by a short rope so that the bucket does not hit the victim of the prank in the head. Pippin confided to me that he felt this was an omission that needed to be corrected so that other young lads and lasses wouldn’t harm anyone when they tired the trick out for themselves. I find his reasoning on this to be very astuit and I am quite sure that Esmeralda Brandybuck would agree with me.

The rope makes for a better story and Pippin lengthens the tale by giving an account of how I attached the rope to the bucket and then to a small hook above the door. I am amazed the no one has ever asked why the hook was above the door in the first place. Pippin also takes extra pains to describe Bilbo coated in flour and everyone agrees that Pippin’s version of it is one of the best. Pippin will most likely follow this telling of my tale with his own misadventure with flour. He will tell that one equally well but without too many embellishments. He leaves himself open to be teased for forgetting the rope and hitting the wrong target. This makes his audience love him all the more. One of Pippin’s finest traits is his ability to laugh at his own mistakes.

As I sit back in my arm chair and listen to the laughter I look at Merry who is grinning wider and laughing more than anyone. In fact, it was probably Merry who requested the tale in the first place. Like me, he loves to hear Pippin wind a good yarn up and pepper it with humor. Just now Merry is every inch the proud older cousin as he enjoys Pippin’s tale. Merry has become such a fine young hobbit. At thirty-nine I believe that he could direct the business of the entire Shire without any difficulty if he needed to do so. Both he and Pippin have been forced to grow up too quickly but somehow, each of them has adapted to their new roles quite well. I will always be grateful that our frightening journey didn’t manage to take the joy and the mischief from my two younger cousins lives. They may have inner scars left upon their hearts just as I do and as my dear Sam most surely does, but they are able to move beyond them. I am proud of them both and I know that when I do leave them behind, as I have become convinced that I must, they will be all right.

No matter what may happen to them in the future they will always have each another and Sam. I hope that once I am no longer here, each of them will still have some small part of me that they carry with them. I will always treasure them no matter what becomes of me. I will know that somewhere, Merry is looking after Pippin and Pippin is keeping my secret while continuing Bilbo’s fine tradition of stretching the truth to make a good story better. I do wish Bilbo could hear Pippin telling his tale. He would love it almost as much as I do.

I see Sam approaching and looking a bit worried so I laugh along with Pippin’s listeners and watch the lines of worry fade from Sam’s face. Leaving Sam will be the hardest thing that I have ever done.

“It’s a fine story, Mister Frodo,” Sam says. “Mister Pippin has ‘em all laughin’ and Mister Merry seems to be enjoyin’ his party this year.”

I hear him running, small feet against the polished wood floors and the sound of tiny bells tinkling as he draws closer. As he rounds the corner into the room, his eyes bright and his little hands reaching for me to lift him up into my arms, I notice that he is being followed. Merry comes in behind the child, frowns in my direction, and his grey eyes cloud over as I reach for the tiny jingling faunt standing before me. As I lift the child into my arms, I am rewarded with giggles and squeals of delight and assaulted by a disapproving glare.

“Hello, there my little jingle bells, how are you today?” I ask the wriggling child in my arms.

The tiny Took kicks his feet and giggles at me placing his fingers in my hair and pulling as if to remind me to pay attention to him and not to my disapproving Brandybuck cousin. “I only just got here, Merry,” I say gently and point to my pack that sits at my feet. “I haven’t had time to spoil him.”

“Mine!” the tiny child pronounces as if to illustrate Merry’s accusation. He reaches for the pocket of my waistcoat and fishes his nimble fingers into it as if searching for something. He doesn’t talk very much just yet but his constant state of activity makes up for that. You have to watch this tiny bundle of energy every minute.

“Here, now,” I say, trying to sound stern and failing. “What are you looking for?”

“Merry!” I object. I suspect that Merry is slightly jealous of the attention that this little one receives but I am surprised that he seems so openly critical of this sweet little child.

“Mine!” the tiny Took says gleefully and removes my coin purse from my pocket and holds it up to his face, eyes almost crossing as he examines it.

“I told you so,” Merry says smugly in the way that only an eleven year old can. Merry grins at me in triumph as the tiny child in my arms chews on my coin purse. “You won’t get that back without a fight.”

“I most certainly will, “ I say. “It’s my coin purse and I am the adult here.” I sit down in the nearest kitchen chair and place the little one on my knee. He is still examining my coin purse with interest and seems unaware of our change in position.

“You aren’t an adult yet, Frodo,” Merry reminds me. “Besides, even the adults can’t handle that one!”

The baby on my knee shakes my coin purse in his hands and giggles as it jingles in nearly the same manner that the tiny bells sewed into his trousers do. “Mine!” he shouts and then he grins over at Merry as if daring him to contradict his statement.

“He will not keep it,” I say. “It isn’t his. Besides, what does a tiny faunt need with a coin purse?” I smile at the little imp who is ignoring me completely and studying the coin purse with his bright, green eyes.

“He’s trying to get it open,” Merry volunteers. He moves closer to me and grins in a rather wicked way. “He’ll do it too. He’s little but he’s clever.”

“It’s knotted,” I say as I watch the little one shake my coin purse again and then frown at it. “Ope!” he shouts and waves the brown suede purse at Merry with a demanding glare.

“You open it, Pip Squeak,” Merry challenges. “It’s yours so you open it.”

“It is not his,” I repeat wondering if there might be something wrong with Merry’s hearing.

The child frowns at the purse again, tugs at the drawstrings and then glares at me. “Mine!” he says.

Merry snickers at me. “You’ll see,” he says. “The Pip Squeak always gets his way.”

“Because he squeaks when he talks. Because he’s little. Because he runs through the smial yelling pip, pip, pip ‘cause that’s what he thinks his name is,” Merry offers. “He can’t say Peregrin and so he just says Pip. Ask him his name. He’ll tell you. He can’t talk very well but he chatters his own nonsense constantly.”

I smile at the child who is struggling with the drawstring of my coin purse and muttering to himself. I say, in that sappy voice that folks use when speaking to tiny children, “What’s your name jingle bells?”

He continues to stare at the coin purse but he says, “Pip-pip-pip-in squee.”

“You almost have him calling himself Pip Squeak,” I say trying to look disapprovingly at Merry. It is very hard to do this while Merry is looking so proud of himself.

Suddenly, the Pip Squeak squeals, then giggles and waves his tiny hands in the air. The sound of my coins hitting the floor assaults my ears and I realize that the little imp has managed to unknot the drawstring and is scattering my money from one end of the kitchen to the other. “Peregrin, no!” I shout and try to grab the hand that holds my now empty coin purse.

Merry is giggling wildly. “I told you so! Didn’t I tell you, Frodo! I told you he’d untie it! You should see your face now!”

“Start picking it up, will you?” I say as I finally mange to pry my coin purse out of Peregrin’s determined little fingers.

“I didn’t do it!” Merry objects as Peregrin begins to scream at full volume.

I wince and gently sit the screaming child down on the floor. I now have the coin purse at least and I watch as one silver penny rolls along on its end toward the far wall of the kitchen. I spot several other coins in various locations on the floor. Merry is making no move to help me and Peregrin is still screaming. He kicks his tiny heels against the floor making the bells sewn into his trousers tinkle and waves his arms about while continuing to scream. I try to ignore him as I crawl around on the floor looking for my coins. “If you aren’t going to help me, Merry then at least see if you can quiet Peregrin down a bit,” I suggest trying to make myself heard over the screaming child.

“He’ll stop if you don’t pay any attention to him,” Merry says. “He’s just mad because you took his coin purse away.”

“It is not his,” I say as I gather several of my coins up from the floor and crawl toward another one. I am down on my hands and knees crawling about like a faunt while the child responsible continues to raise a noise that will likely summon the entire Smial of Brandybucks to his rescue.

“Mine,” a tiny voice whispers as the screaming stops. “Mer, get mine!” the Pip Squeak demands.

“You get it,” Merry replies. “Why do all of my cousins think I am their servant today? Merry, get my coins. Merry, get my coin purse. Merry, make him quit screaming,” Merry says in a singsong voice. He paces about the room with a long-suffering look on his face but still does not offer to pick up a single coin. I am on my own here.

“All right, Merry,” I sigh. “Point taken.” I am under the kitchen table now collecting more of my coins and I can here the sound of the tiny bells again. This alerts me to the fact that little Peregrin is on the move. “What’s he doing?” I ask.

“Looks like he’s going to help you get your coins,” Merry says sounding bored. “He should anyway because he’s the one that threw them all over the place, not me.”

“I know that,” I say as I get to my feet and look around for the rest of my money. I dust the knees of my new trousers off as best I can and put my change into my pocket. “I was just asking for your help, Merry. I know that you-“ I stop and a knot of fear forms in the pit of my stomach as I see Peregrin sitting in the floor and putting a small copper penny into his bird-like mouth. “Peregrin! No!” I shout but I am already too late.

Merry’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “He ate it! Frodo, he ate that penny!” Merry declares. Merry doesn’t look worried, just fascinated and even a bit impressed.

I rush over and pick the child up and turn him upside down. I have every intention of getting that coin out before Peregrin chokes on it.

“Shake him and maybe it will come back up,” Merry encourages still looking entirely too gleeful about all of this.

I gently, well, I hope it is gently, shake the little child while holding him by his ankles and the sound of those tiny bells in his trousers makes it seem as if a sleigh is coming through the kitchen. Peregrin makes gagging sounds but no coin falls out of his mouth. He is coughing now but it is the sort of cough that tiny children use to draw attention to themselves. Peregrin already has my complete attention. In fact, I can think of nothing else except him.

“Shake him harder!” Merry suggests. “The coin must be in really deep by now.” I am starting to get rather annoyed with Merry’s encouragement and the tiny bells are driving me crazy.

“Frodo Baggins, what are you doing with that child?” a voice that I would know anywhere calls out as I continue to shake the baby by his ankles. Merry’s mum is now in the room. I turn, still holding Peregrin by his ankles and look at her. She is standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

“Dow! Dow! Pip, pip dow!” the little scoundrel says and I quickly set him on his tiny feet with a guilty look at Merry’s mother. The minute his feet hit the floor, Peregrin runs over to Esmeralda and reaches up for her just as he did me earlier. “Help!” he says loudly, his eyes round with what some might mistake for terror. “Help, Pip!”

She lifts him into her arms and glares at me in much the same way the Merry did earlier. “Honestly, Frodo,” she says. “You know better than to hold a child upside down. What is wrong with you?”

“We were listening to the little bells,” Merry offers. He looks over at me and whispers conspiratorially so that only I can hear. “Berilac and I shake him like that all the time. Pip Squeak doesn’t mind. Don’t let him fool you, he likes it.”

“Those bells are on this child’s trousers so that I can keep track of him, not so the two of you can use him like a rattle,” Esmeralda scolds us as Peregrin rubs his cheek against her shoulder and sticks his tongue out at Merry and I. She doesn’t notice this and continues to stroke the tiny troublemaker’s curls in a soothing fashion. He smiles and I could swear that he is laughing at me. I have to remind myself that he is only a faunt.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” I quickly whisper to Merry, very relieved that the coin doesn’t seem to have harmed the small trickster. Then looking at Esmeralda I say, “I was just trying to keeping him amused. I guess I went a bit too far.”

“That is not how one amuses a child,” Esmeralda warns. “I’m surprised at you. You can’t be that rough with a wee one. He’s too small for that type of play.”

“I told you,” Merry says to me loud enough so that his mother can hear. He smiles at me because he knows that I can’t argue the point. I cannot afford to have Merry’s mum ask too many questions or she will find out about the coin that is now filling a small space inside of little Peregrin’s stomach. I am very lucky that the child’s language skills are limited for I have no doubts at all that he would gladly give his Aunt a full account of my transgressions.

“Now, I am going to take Peregrin with me and I want the two of you to behave for a while,” Esmeralda says.

“He started it,” Merry says, looking at Peregrin. “I know you don’t believe that, but he did.”

“Merry,” she sighs. “Peregrin is too little to know what he’s doing. You can’t blame this on him.”

“Come on, Merry,” I say as he stands next to me and rolls his eyes for what seems like the millionth time today. “Let’s you and I go out for a walk before lunch.” I start to return my coin purse to my waistcoat pocket and suddenly I hear a tiny whimper.

“Mine,” Peregrin says reaching toward me with both hands. I watch as Esmeralda struggles to keep the tiny child from pulling out of her grasp.

“What does he want?” Esmeralda asks me. She is frowning as if she thinks I might have committed further acts of violence against the innocent faunt.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he says before I can answer. His little hands reaching toward me as he kicks his feet in an effort to escape Esmeralda’s hold. This one is going to be a great deal of trouble once he gains some size. None of us will be safe after that.

“You can’t go with Frodo and Merry, dear one,” Esmeralda says gently misunderstanding the child’s words as a wish to accompany us rather than a desire to get his tiny fingers on my property.

“Gots mine,” Peregrin says stubbornly with his tiny bottom lip pushed out in a pout.

Merry snickers and gives me a wicked grin as Peregrin begins to cry. It starts out as a tiny sob and then builds quickly into tears and a quivering lower lip. All the while he is reaching out his hands and whimpering, “Mine, peas, mine, peas.”

“He means, please,” Merry explains. “He gets about just fine but you just have to get used to the way he talks. I know what he’s saying most of the time but no one else understands him.”

Esmeralda looks at me intently as if she actually thinks that I have taken something from the little Took and Merry watches me with that nasty smile of his. Peregrin gives me his full-on injured look and sniffles. “O, peas,” he says. “Mine, gif it me.”

“Oh, please, mine give it to me,” Merry translates with feeling and then looks over at me waiting to see if I will stand firm or if I will allow this little charmer to take my coin purse.

Resigned, I empty the few remaining coins from my recently purchased purse into my waistcoat pocket and walk over toward Esmeralda. “You win this time, Jingle Bells,” I say as I hand my rather expensive suede coin purse to the little manipulator.

He clutches it to his cheek and rubs the suede against his face and smiles, tears drying on his chubby cheeks. “Tank yoo,” he says in a squeaky little voice. He then gives me a warning look and says, “Mine.” just to let me know that I won’t be getting it back and then proceeds put the drawstring into his mouth and suck on it. I grimace as I watch him slobber on the expensive, hand-tooled material.

Merry is all smiles as we leave the kitchen. “Told you he’d get it. He’s a thief, Frodo,” he says and I am starting to believe that.

Behind me I hear Esmeralda talking to the little one. “My poor darling. What was your cousin Frodo thinking? You could have been hurt. Lads just don’t know how to look after little ones, do they? You come with me and I’ll get you a biscuit. Would you like that?”

“Merry, I've just had an idea for something that you can get Pippin for Yule this year,” Estella whispers as she watches my younger cousin pay for our supper. We have just finished eating and since Pip lost the coin toss, this meal is on him. I haven’t any idea why Estella has suddenly decided to begin making a list of Yule gifts in the late summer season. My confusion must be showing in my eyes because she nudges my shoulder and gives a nod in Pippin’s direction. “Just look at his coin purse.”

I can’t help but smile. Pippin is removing the price of our supper from the well-worn suede purse while chatting pleasantly with the proprietor of the River Bend Pub. Diamond is sitting across from us oblivious to our conversation; eyes glued to her husband and a smile all her own decorating her lips. Estella is looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind.

“But, Merry, the one he has is all worn out,” she says a bit louder though not loud enough to cause Diamond to quit admiring Pippin. Diamond is extremely round with child at the moment and I find that lasses in that state are often quite sappy. That would explain the fact that she is looking at Pip as if he is hanging stars in the sky instead of paying for our dinner.

“If I give him a new one, he won’t carry it,” I say. In my mind I can see Pippin as a faunt chewing on the strings of that suede purse or clutching it in one tiny jam-smeared hand as he runs through the parlor. I can see him at six opening the purse and pouring out his latest collection of river stones for me to inspect. I can see him at ten on his knees in the dirt carefully removing his marbles from the same purse for a game with some of the other lads. I can recall stopping him from shoving a live toad into it when he was twelve. I can’t exactly recall when the coin purse actually became a coin purse again but at some point Pippin began to use it properly and finally stopped chewing on it. “He’s had that one a very long time, love,” I say. “It has sentimental value to him.”

“No, it belonged to someone special and Pippin stole it,” I grin knowing that I shall have to explain this to both lasses as Diamond is now looking directly at me also.

“Are we ready to go, then?” Pippin asks coming up to the table and offering his hand to Diamond.

“Not until Merry explains who you stole your coin purse from, darlin’,” Diamond says. "I've always wondered why you don't replace that old thing."

“Sit down, Pip and rest your feet while I embarrass you terribly for a few minutes,” I say and my younger cousin reluctantly complies. It isn't as if he doesn't have this coming to him, you know.

I am slightly indebted to Bill Cosby for an old comedy routine of his that I love in which he allows the smallest child in his family to keep things that don't belong to her just to keep her from screaming. At one point in the routine, Bill Cosby says to an older child who is crying because the younger one has something that belongs to her, "Don't cry. She has some of my stuff too!" This always made me laugh. Besides, I can imagine Pippin doing this and, for the most part, getting by with it._GW

This one is very nearly all dialogue so I do hope it isn’t too confusing. I know who is saying what but then, I wrote it so that helps a bit. These are not my characters. All of these Hobbits belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and appear in this story because I enjoy hobbits. Anyway, for my own Hobbit_ficathon challenge this week here is a story about a hobbit being late. Frodo is 45, Merry is nearly 31, and Pippin is 22.

“You always say that. I don’t think I should like to hear you explain this time, thank-you-very-much!”

“I don’t hear anything. Do you hear anything, Frodo? I certainly don’t hear anything. I mean, maybe I hear something that sounds a little bit like my cousin, Meriadoc but I don’t think it could be him because he’d never dare to show up here this late, would he?”

“Maybe he has a good reason for being late, Pippin. You might at least let him explain.”

“Forget it, Frodo. Peregrin has decided to be stubborn about this and that is fine by me.”

“You can tell whoever it was that said that I am stubborn that I’m not, Frodo. Oh, and tell that hobbit that I am not speaking to him while you are about that, will you?”

“Frodo, you can tell Peregrin Took that my ears will be very glad of the rest from his infernal chatter now that he is no longer speaking to me.”

“Frodo, tell whoever that is that I don’t chatter. Besides if his ears weren’t so big then he wouldn’t have any problems with when and how others speak!”

“My ears are not big! You simply have a big mouth, doesn’t he, Frodo? In fact, I’ve heard you say more than once that you just wished he’d-“

“I wish both of you would stop speaking to me for a while and sort this out between yourselves.”

“Frodo said that sometimes he wishes that you would draw a breath in between sentences so that his ears can rest.”

“You did too, Frodo! I can’t believe that you plan to lie about such a thing.”

“Well, it is a bit hard to recall everything that I’ve said in full detail but I know that I didn’t say that in exactly that fashion.”

“Well, I can’t recall, but I do recall that I never said anything about giving my ears a rest. Merry is completely wrong about that part.”

“I am not completely wrong about you having said that Pippin talks too much, Frodo. In fact, since you can’t exactly recall what you said, I would be more than happy to assist you. I understand that you’re memory is not what it used to be now that you’re getting on in years.”

“You did say that you couldn’t recall what you’d said, Frodo. Pippin asked you exactly what you did say and you said that it was hard to recall. When a hobbit reaches a certain age, sometimes-“

“I have not reached a certain age! I know exactly what I said! I said, I wish Pippin wouldn’t talk so fast and so much because it wears me out! I didn’t see anything about ‘resting my ears.’ If you must quote me then for pity sake, be accurate!”

“Pippin, don’t be upset. I was rather tired that day when I said that. You know how you sometimes you say things because you aren’t feeling well? I wasn’t feeling well that day.”

“Either you feel well or you’re sick Frodo. You can’t be both at the same time. When I’m sick I certainly don’t feel well. In fact, when I am sick I feel quite dreadful. I don’t feel sick and well all at once. If I’m well, then I feel fine and I’m not at all sick so I don’t see how you could have been both of those things at-“

“Pippin, I am starting to feel a bit unwell just now. Would you mind if I went to my room to lie down for a bit while you and Merry stay here and ‘don’t speak to one another’? I think I could do with a bit of rest before supper.”

“You mean the special supper that has been waiting on the table in your kitchen for over an hour now? Is that the supper that you need to rest before, because if it is then please do go ahead and rest. The meal is likely ruined by now anyway since some of us were very, very late. Have a nice long rest from listening to me chatter, Frodo. I don’t think supper can get any colder unless it snows in your kitchen!”

“Merry, how exactly did you manage to get me into trouble? You were the one that was late. I was here, minding my own business and now all of the sudden I’m in more trouble than you are.”

“I’m not telling him anything! Besides, shouldn’t you be lying down or something?”

“I should shove both of you out the door and lock it behind you but I doubt that I have the nerve to be that rude.”

“You do talk too much, but just now I could do with an explanation, Pip so why not throw caution to the wind and give me one?”

“I’m not speaking to you either, Frodo. That should make both of you very happy!”

“But you’re the one who says that Pippin’s talking wears you out, why don’t you apologize?”

“I didn’t say anything until you brought it up. You should apologize first and then I’ll apologize. Now, apologize to Pippin, Meriadoc.”

“Piss off, Merry. If you don’t know what you’re sorry for then you aren’t really sorry at all, are you?”

“I tried, Frodo. Now it’s your turn to be sorry but don’t forget what it is that you’re sorry for or Pip will bite your head off before you can apologize properly.”

“You should apologize to Frodo since it’s his kitchen and he went to so much trouble and you didn’t even show up on time. That’s who you should apologize to if you must know. Frodo should apologize to me for talking about me when I wasn’t listening and saying that I talk too much.”

“For acting like an insufferable twit just because I was a bit late for supper.”

“Fine! I am very sorry that you were so late for supper that you spoiled everything. There! Are you happy?”

“You don’t look too pleased yourself, Peregrin. In fact you look as if you might explode. I didn’t know your face could get that red.”

“Calm down then and be reasonable. At least let Merry explain why he was late and then if you want to storm out into the kitchen and toss out supper I won’t stop you.”

“No, Merry, I won’t because I will be lying down. After you explain your tardiness, I plan to leave the two of you on your own. I will close my bedroom door and if, whilst I am napping, one of you kills the other, then I won’t have to be a witness at the trial because I won’t have seen anything.”

“You’d just go off to bed and allow him to toss out perfectly good food? What kind of a host are you?”

“Now, if you’ll quit telling me to explain long enough for me to explain.”

“I was having a pint at the Dragon with Fredegar Bolger and I lost track of time.”

“Yes, Pippin, that’s all of it right there. I left out what Fredegar and I talked about and the part where I saw Sam Gamgee and spoke to him, but on the whole, I’d say that was the entire reason that I was late.”

“That’s no reason at all. That is just you being thoughtless is all that is.”

“Pippin, it’s just supper. You could have started without me. You and Frodo have started supper without me on numerous occasions. Why not tonight?”

“You don’t start a surprise birthday supper without the guest of honor, Merry! It’s rude and if it is a birthday supper for someone and that someone isn’t there then what is the point of having it?”

“My birthday isn’t for a whole week yet. Why would you have a surprise birthday supper for me when it isn’t even my birthday yet?”

“So it would be a surprise, of course. You always know when we’re trying to surprise you and so I thought that if we surprised you early then you wouldn’t spoil it by guessing. Instead you spoiled it by not showing up.”

“I’m not doing this again, ever so there will not be a next time and I am not pissy!”

“It was a splendid supper, Merry. Frodo made mushrooms and Sam made that roasted chicken that you like with the wee potatoes, or taters as he calls them, and the gravy.”

“It’s sitting in the kitchen spoiling right now along with some fresh bread from the baked goods shop, carrots in honey sauce, fresh tomatoes from the Gaffer’s garden along with those sweet onions that he grows, those mushrooms of Frodo’s and a special surprise which we shall never get to now because it is supposed to be for afters with tea in the parlor but you can’t have afters if you haven’t had a meal, can you?”

“Sam’s roasted chicken? He walked right by me in the Dragon and smiled and waved and never said a word to me about any of it.”

“Still, he might have warned me that there was roasted chicken going to waste up here.”

“It’s an entire week until my real birthday and so I wasn’t expecting any sort of birthday supper. Why should I?”

“Of course I’m surprised! I wouldn’t have been late if I had known about Sam’s roasted chicken. I am completely surprised and now I am starving to death standing here and thinking about that lovely chicken in there with no one paying it proper attention and all because I had no idea that anyone might be giving me a birthday supper a week early.”

“Yes, Pippin. I am as surprised as I believe I have ever been in all of my thirty-one years, well, nearly thirty-one years.”

“It worked, Frodo! I told you it would work but you had your doubts, didn’t you?”

“I knew it would work because Merry would never be expecting it and you weren’t expecting it, were you Merry?”

“I did and I think that even though it leans a wee bit to one side that it isn’t terribly awful. Once I scraped the burnt bits off of the bottom layer and put on extra frosting to even it up a bit it looked splendid if I do say so myself. Don’t you think it looks splendid, Frodo?”

“It does indeed, Pippin. I am especially pleased with the way the decorations on the top look. You’ll love that part, Merry.”

“You can’t really tell that I lost control of that frosting tube that Pearl let me use, can you? I mean that one r in Merry is a wee bit too large, but I managed to fix that large glob of frosting beside of the word birthday by turning it into a rose.”

“I can’t wait to see this cake Pip. In fact, I think we should go into the kitchen and start on that chicken right now just so we can get to the cake sooner.”

“Again with the chicken? I did make mushrooms and I know how you love my mushrooms.”

“I do love your mushrooms, Frodo. I am especially fond of them when they are served with Sam’s roasted chicken and potatoes.”

“Come on into the kitchen then and I’ll let you have a wee peek at the cake before we eat!”

“Now, I do have to warn you that it may be a wee bit less than done in the middle so it will be probably be a good idea to eat the sides first and save the middle for when you are especially hungry. We’ll have to be careful when we cut it so that the middle bit doesn’t run out onto the table. It took Frodo ever so long to get the frosting off of the walls after that frosting tube thing of Pearls went out of control on me and so I wouldn’t think he’d be too keen to clean again. It really is a good thing that you were late, come to think of it because it would have spoiled everything if you’d arrived while there was frosting on the walls. That would have given away the surprise.”

Pippin hurried ahead of them to get the cake out and Merry turned to Frodo and whispered, "You let him have too much of the frosting while he was making the cake, didn't you?"

"I can hear both of you out there! I did not have too much frosting! Now, come see your cake, Merry. It slid a bit more to the left but it is still quite delicious-looking!"

This one is for Periantari because she asked for it and for Danachan on Merry and Pippin day. Happy birthday, Dana! Pippin is turning 22 and Merry is 30.

Amethyst stood with her back to the door of the Brandybuck’s cellar and fidgeted nervously as she listened to the rattling and thumping coming from within. “Hurry up or the deal is off,” she hissed through the crack in the door. “I am not getting caught over this.”

“I have to find the proper one,” a voice announced. “I want a really big one!”

“Well, you have two more minutes and then you are without a look-out because I am leaving,” she whispered loudly.

There was a crash, a thump and then a cry of triumph. “Found it!” There was more noise and then the sound of footsteps coming up the creaky old stairs toward the door. She felt the door move outward and she nearly lost her balance. Amethyst stepped out of the way and Peregrin Took came out of the cellar looking red-faced and rather dusty but very pleased with himself all the same. “I found it!” he crowed and he pushed an enormous bottle toward her.

Amethyst Brandybuck instantly began to sneeze as the thick coat of dust from the bottle's surface made a tiny cloud around her and around the bottle itself. “What is that?” she managed between sneezes.

“I think it’s the biggest bottle in the cellar,” Pippin grinned proudly. “I had to do a bit of digging around but it was worth the effort.” He coughed as some of the dust came his way. “This was hidden behind some wee bottles of port all the way at the back of the cellar.”

“You'd have done better to swipe the port,” Amethyst sniffled pulling her handkerchief from her apron pocket and giving a very unladylike snort into it.

“Those wee bottles were barely dusty at all and they were too small,” Pippin frowned.

“Why did you want the bottle to be dusty? Dust does not improve the quality of spirits,” Amethyst said.

“No, but age does,” Pippin smiled. “And the longer a bottle has been in the cellar untouched the more dust it collects. I am guessing that this is the best of the lot. Just look! You can’t even begin to read the label.” He held the bottle up again and the two of them peered at the dust-covered label. “That is one well-aged bottle of, well, of something,” Pippin observed.

Amethyst snorted and then extended a hand. “Fine, now if you will kindly pay me for my fine service as lookout and for providing you with the key to the cellar I’ll be on my way.”

“Just how did you get that key?” Pippin asked. Amethyst Brandybuck was a very clever lass and a good friend to have. She reminded Pippin of Merry in some ways.

“That is my secret, Peregrin Took,” she said still holding out her hand. “Now, payment is due.”

Pippin thrust the dusty bottle into her hands and then reached into his trouser pocket. He dug about for a minute or two and then, rather reluctantly he pulled out four silver pennies and handed them to her. She took them and pushed the bottle back into his hands. “I hope that whatever is in that bottle is worth this,” she sighed.

“It will be,” Pippin smiled. “I am sure Merry will know exactly what this is and that he will be very impressed with it.”

“Happy birthday, Pippin,” Amethyst smiled and then she quickly disappeared down the hall leaving Pippin alone with his dusty bottle.

Pippin removed his scarf and carefully wrapped it around the bottle before setting off on his own. He was humming as he made his way to his room. This was going to be a very special birthday indeed.

Merry was amused by Pippin’s secrecy. His younger cousin was holding a large object behind his back and nearly bursting to present it to Merry. Pippin was usually rather casual about the gifts that he gave to Merry on his birthday but this year Pippin seemed to be very pleased with his selection. Merry was amused but he was also a bit nervous. Sometimes Pippin could get completely carried away. Merry did hope that his younger cousin had not spent too much on the gift. “Well, are you planning on giving me this very special gift or do you simply plan to stand there all night grinning at me?” Merry asked.

“This, Cousin, is my gift to you on the occasion of my twenty-second birthday,” Pippin said and he then removed the item from behind his back and sat it on the small parlor table with a loud thunk.

Merry’s eyes widened in surprise and he leaned forward to inspect the bottle. “Is this what I think it is?” Merry asked nervously.

“What do you think it is?” Pippin asked grinning and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Where did you get this?” Merry demanded straightening up and glaring at Pippin.

“It is rude to ask where your gift comes from, Merry,” Pippin said looking offended. “You aren’t supposed to question the gift at all. You are just supposed to accept it. You have to accept it because it is very rude indeed to refuse a birthday gift.”

“I wasn’t going to refuse it,” Merry hissed. “But you aren’t old enough to purchase alcohol, Peregrin Took! In fact you shouldn’t be able to get your hands on anything like this for another three years.”

Pippin smiled. “It’s a gift. T’isn’t for me and so it’s all right. You’re old enough to have it.”

“You’re being rude again,” Pippin warned raising a finger and pointing at Merry’s chest.

Merry scowled. He then looked at the large bottle again. He squinted at the label. “That can’t be the date this was bottled. Nothing is that old! This can’t have been bottled in 679!” He pointed to the bottle.

“It’s aged,” Pippin said pleasantly. “You told me yourself that the older it is the better it becomes. This has to be extremely good considering the date on the bottle.”

“But if this is correct then this bottle of spirits is older than Bilbo Baggins was when he left the Shire! It’s older than my parents combined ages. It’s older than the old Took would be if he were still alive. I didn’t know anyone bottled anything that long ago,” Merry said. “And what kind of bottle is this?”

“You tell me,” Pippin said quickly. “You’ve always bragged that you know your drink and so when you’ve had a taste you tell me what you think it is and I’ll tell you if you’re right.”

“Of course I do!” Pippin blushed. “Do you think I’d give you something without finding out what it is?” He shifted his weight from foot to foot and then grinned. “I’ll get the glasses!” Before Merry could stop him, Pippin hurried over to the mantle and removed two large milk glasses from its top and brought them over. He sat them down next to the big green bottle and smiled at Merry. “Do you want to pour or should I?”

“I am too!” Pippin objected. “It’s my birthday and besides that, it is the very rule that you made two years ago.”

“What rule did I make?” Merry frowned trying to remember what sort of nonsense he might have spouted.

“The time that Frodo gave you a bottle of the Old Winyards on his birthday and I wanted to have a drink with the two of you,” Pippin said. “You told me that I couldn’t have any until I was able to get my own. Frodo agreed. He said that when I was old enough to give alcohol as a gift then I would be allowed to drink it!”

“Then how do you explain this bottle of it?” Pippin asked folding his arms over his chest.

Pippin thought of handing Amethyst the silver pennies in the hall and he nodded. “I did!” He had paid dearly for it in spite of the fact that he’d nicked it and so he supposed he’d bought it in a way.

Merry sighed. “One drink then,” he reluctantly agreed and he looked at the glasses and rolled his eyes. “Pippin, these are not the sort of glasses that a Hobbit drinks alcohol from. These are milk glasses from my mum’s kitchen.”

“Very well,” Merry shrugged. “We’ll make do.” He reached over and took the bottle in hand and very carefully removed the cork. There was a loud pop and a tiny bit of the liquid bubbled out of the bottle onto Merry’s hand. Merry raised the hand to his nose and sniffed it. His eyes actually watered. “This is rather strong, Pippin,” he said as he carefully pour two inches into the bottom of each glass and then sat the bottle down.

Pippin smiled. “That’s good, isn’t it? I mean, you don’t want to drink weak spirits do you?”

“I suppose not,” Merry said with a trace of doubt in his voice. “You just be careful and sip this, don’t gulp it. We may be using milk glasses but this is most assuredly not milk.”

“No, it’s your birthday and so I make the toast,” Merry said. He frowned as if thinking it over and then raised his glass and said, “To my cousin, Pippin on the occasion of the eve of his twenty-second birthday! I thank him for this generous gift and I wish him a very happy twenty-second year!”

Pippin raised his glass to meet Merry’s and they clinked them together once and then drank carefully.

Merry winced as he swallowed his first drink and his eyes watered some more. The taste of the drink burned his throat and seemed to sear the tiny hairs in his nose. Across from him, Pippin was coughing and turning a green shade that resembled the bottle.

“Smooth going down, isn’t it?” Pippin managed after his coughing had died away.

“Smooth is not the word I might have chosen,” Merry said. He peered at his glass and then at Pippin.

“I think I do but I’ll have another sip just to be certain,” Merry said. He didn’t want to admit that he had no notion as to what it was and he certainly didn’t want to drink more of it but he couldn’t let Pippin know that he didn’t like it. He braced himself and drank again. This time he was ready for the burning sensation and was better able to tolerate it.

Pippin sipped carefully at his own portion and then looked expectantly at Merry awaiting his appraisal and identification of the drink.

“Well, I know what it isn’t,” Merry said. “It isn’t wine and it isn’t an ale.”

Pippin nodded and smiled. “You’re right so far, Cousin,” Pippin said encouragingly. “Have a wee bit more and then I know you’ll be able to guess it!”

Merry smile back and drank again. Pippin drank also. This time Pippin didn’t cough but Merry thought that the younger Hobbit’s eyes were watering entirely too much. “It isn’t the Old Winyards because I’ve had that before and this is stronger,” Merry said.

“Do you want me to more us some pour?” Pippin asked and then he hic-upped. He grinned at Merry and said, “I mean do you want me to pour us some pour?”

“You sit down on the sofa, Pip,” Merry suggested. It seemed to him that Pippin was weaving a bit and likely to fall down but then again it also seemed to him as if the bottle was weaving a bit. He reached out a hand quickly and grabbed the bottle just in case. “I’ll pour it!”

Pippin tottered over to the sofa and sat down but he held out his empty glass so that Merry could refill it for him. With a slightly unsteady hand, Merry poured, or rather sloshed, more of the brown liquid into his own glass and then into Pippin’s. This time he came dangerously close to filling the glasses to the top. This accomplished, Merry sat down next to Pippin and said, “Let’s drink to this rather interesting vintage!”

“Here’s to it!” Pippin agreed and they managed to clink glasses before drinking.

“You know,” Merry said after a few sips. “I didn’t like this stuff when I first started drinking it but it’s beginning to taste better now.”

“That must be because we are getting deeper into the bottle,” Pippin said. “The more we drink the lower it goes and the oldest part of it will be the part that went into the bottle first and so that part will come out of the bottle last. The better it is, the older it is.”

Merry stared at Pippin and tried to puzzle this out for a minute. Finally he gave up the effort and took another drink. “Smooth,” he declared smacking his lips together and then giggling.

Pippin snorted causing the drink that he was taking at the time to go up his nose a bit. “Ouch!” he winced. “It burns when you snort it.”

Merry laughed. “Then don’t snort it, drink it. It goes down better than it comes up,” Merry observed.

They both laughed at this and then Pippin said, “Merry, you’re my favorite cousin. Of all of the cousins that I have, and I have a lot of cousins, you’re the one cousin that is my favorite of all of them.”

“I’m my favorite too,” Merry grinned and he reached over to get the big green bottle so that he could refill their glasses again. “Mine’s getting’ low again. Is yours?”

Pippin nodded and then frowned as he watched the room bob up and down like his head had done. “I got you the biggest bottle I could find, Merry.”

Merry refilled the glasses and giggled at Pippin. “You did get a big bottle and it was full too.”

Pippin smiled. “So the bottom of it is still full even if the top of it is empty. So some of this bottle is still very full even now after all this pouring and pouring.”

Merry drank from his glass and then burped. They both laughed again. “I want to miss you a very Pippy bithday, Hap,” Merry grinned.

“That’s not right,” Merry frowned. “I think it’s Hap-ty birthpippin’s day! That’s what it is. So Hap-ty to you, Pip!”

“Thank you, Merry,” Pippin grinned. He took another drink of his gift to Merry and then said, “On my birthday are you going to get me some of this stuff?”

“Well, are you?” Pippin giggled. “I did got you some for my birthday and so it’s only proper that you got some for me too.”

“I’ll get you two some, I promise,” Merry said and he patted Pippin on the head.

Pippin drank another sip of his drink and then burped loudly. “I can hear me burp all over the smial!” Pippin observed. “This is good stuff whatever it is.”

Pippin took hold of Merry’s waistcoat, pulled him slightly forward, and then whispered into Merry’s ear. “I lied.”

Merry blinked and then laughed. “So you don’t know what we’re drinking? That’s so funny!”

Pippin giggled. “I know what we’re drinking. We’re not drinking milk is what we’re drinking!”

Merry sat up and reached for the bottle again. “Let’s drink some more of it before it all gets gone.”

Merry snickered and nearly dropped the bottle. “It goes inside you when you drink it and then it comes out again later.”

Pippin laughed. “In again, out again, up again, down again,” Pippin sang as Merry refilled the glasses. This time Merry’s glass did overflow a bit. Pippin was now holding onto his own glass with both hands. “I’m glad it’s my burp day, birthday, I’m glad it is!”

“Me too,” Merry agreed. “If it wasn’t your birthday then you wouldn’t have give me this big green bottle of whatever it is and we wouldn’t be drinking it now, would we?”

“No we wouldn’t!” Merry shouted. Then he laughed. He was still laughing when Pippin passed out on the sofa and the contents of his glass poured out onto the parlor floor and onto Merry’s feet. Merry leaned forward and looked at his damp feet and then proceeded to tumble head first onto the floor. He did a complete summersault and came to rest flat on his back.

This is where Frodo found the two of them several hours later. Merry, lying on his back and snoring loudly with alcohol on his feet and his shirt and Pippin face down on the sofa humming in his sleep as he drooled onto the sofa cushions. The large green bottle lay on its side on the parlor table. Some of the bottle's contents still sloshing about inside and a huge puddle of the foul liquid had formed on the table.

Frodo hurried over and picked the bottle up from the table. He stared at his younger cousins and then back at the bottle. “It can’t be,” he murmured as he stared at the bottle’s label. “I thought all of this vile stuff had been poured out long ago.” He looked at Pippin who was still humming and who actually seemed to be giggling in his sleep and then he frowned at the bottle. “Six-hundred and seventy-nine,” Frodo read from the label. He groaned. “Were there actually that many of them?”

Merry yawned and smacked his own face with one hand but continued to sleep. “Where did they get this?” Frodo wondered aloud.

He turned and saw Amethyst Brandybuck standing there smiling sweetly at him. The twenty-four-year-old lass looked at Merry and Pippin and then said, “I guess it was a good bottle. They seem to have enjoyed it.”

“Pippin got it,” Amethyst smiled. “He gave it to Merry as a birthday gift. He was quite keen to get Merry some sort of drink because he said that if he actually managed to get the drink then Merry would be forced to allow him to drink some of it also. Something about a rule of Merry’s?”

Frodo nodded. “Merry made up the rule so that Pippin wouldn’t be able to drink the Old Winyards that I’d given to Merry a few years ago on my birthday. Pippin was too young to be drinking and so Merry thought that would settle the matter.”

“So it would seem,” Frodo sighed. He looked at the bottle again. “They are both in for a very bad day tomorrow. This stuff gives a Hobbit a dreadful hangover.”

“When I was about twenty-nine, I decided that I would like to bottle some alcohol rather like the Old Winyards,” Frodo said. “I’d heard Bilbo talk of the Old Winyards for years and so I decided that I would bottle some spirits and surprise him. I worked one entire summer and half of the autumn on my great bottling project. I even got a large number of these very unusual green bottles and hand-made labels for them. This bottle is missing the name of my drink. There should be a bit more to the label that says, Baggins Brew, Best in the Shire!”

Amethyst snickered at this. From the sofa Pippin giggled madly and then fell into loud snoring. “Baggins Brew? That’s dreadful!” she said.

“It certainly was,” Frodo laughed softly. “I bottled the stuff and then gave it as gifts to all of my relations and friends for Yule. They all struggled to be polite but I soon realized that ‘Baggins Brew’ tasted a great deal like turpentine. The only thing that can be said of it is that it will get you very drunk in a very short time.” He and Amethyst looked over at Merry and Pippin and Frodo sighed. “I guess Saradoc hid the bottle that I presented to him in the cellar.”

Merry muttered something that sounded like, “fish bread” but probably wasn’t, in his sleep and then rolled over on his face.

“It says right there,” she pointed to the bottle in Frodo’s hands. “Six-hundred-seventy-nine.”

Frodo sighed. “That isn’t the date. That is bottle number six-hundred-seventy-nine. I numbered them. The date was on the top part of the label along with the name.” Frodo grinned. “I guess Pippin thought he’d found the oldest vintage in all the Shire.”

“I suspect that the suffering he will do tomorrow on his birthday will be payment enough,” Frodo said. “I’ve had Baggins Brew before and believe me, nothing leaves your head throbbing like it does.”

Amethyst grinned. “Goodnight, Cousin,” she said and slipped quietly from the room.

Frodo looked over at Pippin and sighed. “Many happy returns of the day, Peregrin Took.”

Merry slammed the door behind himself as he entered the small house at Crickhollow. Merry had been living here with his cousin, Pippin for a few months and everything had been generally peaceful until recently. Lately it seemed to Pippin as if Merry might be trying to remove the door from its well oiled hinges with all of the slamming. Merry was constantly slamming it when he returned home. Then Merry would refuse to explain why he had slammed the door and would proceed to go into his own bedroom and slam that door as well. Pippin was becoming convinced that it might be wise to remove all of the doors before someone was injured.

Pippin sat on the sofa in the parlor and quietly grimaced as Merry stormed by him and went into his bedroom. Pippin just had enough time to cover his ears before Merry slammed that door. Pippin knew Merry was upset. It was an easy assumption to make at this point. Total strangers would have no trouble puzzling out that fact. Something was making Pippin’s usually pleasant older cousin a complete terror to be around but Pippin had learned that there was no use asking Merry what was wrong. In fact, asking Merry anything was a bit like trying to put a waist coat on a badger; in other words dangerous and pointless. The badger was unlikely to be cooperative and the end results were most likely to be painful.

As Pippin sat quietly on the sofa imagining a badger in one of Merry’s brightly colored waistcoats, Merry came charging into the parlor. Pippin watched as Merry paced about the room mumbling to himself. The image of the badger was getting harder to maintain but Pippin continued to try. He had to remain occupied in some way even if it was completely ridiculous or he might say something to make Merry even angrier. Pippin squeezed his eyes shut tightly and tried to place the imaginary badger at the breakfast table.

“So, you just plan to sit there?” Merry demanded stopping in front of the sofa and glaring down at Pippin.

Pippin opened one eye, looked up at Merry, and said, “I was planning on that but now I don’t believe I shall be allow to do so.”

“Imagine my surprise! My very nosy, very talkative, hopelessly curious, younger cousin has no questions at all! How is that possible, Peregrin?” Merry growled. Pippin opened his mouth to answer but Merry continued. “Here, just when I might like a bit of support or might even welcome a question or two you’ve gone mute?” Again Pippin opened his mouth and again Merry rushed onward. “I come home, slam a few doors, I mean surely you can tell that something is amiss, but you can’t be bothered to ask!”

“It’s like coming home and finding the place empty!” Merry broke in. “I might just as well be living alone for all the concern that you bother to show for me. In fact, I could be having this conversation all by myself!”

“So far, you are having it by yourself,” Pippin said hurriedly. Most folks couldn’t have got a word in but that had never been one of Pippin’s problems. “You won’t allow me to say anything. You just keep on ranting and waving your arms about and slamming things.”

Maybe it wasn’t like putting a waistcoat on a badger. Maybe it was more like pinning a flower to the chest of a bear or spitting in the eye of a dragon Pippin mused. He sighed and stretched one long, thin leg out before him and studied his own toes intently.

“You might show a bit of concern here, after all that I’ve been through the past few days,” Merry sighed and he sank down on the opposite end of the sofa and slumped.

“I’d be happy to show my concern if I were allowed to ask you exactly what it is that I am concerned about, Cousin,” Pippin said turning to look at Merry. “To this point, all I am able to show concern for is the possibility that you might destroy all of our doors if this keeps up. I can’t be concerned about whatever it is that is bothering you because you haven’t told me anything about that.”

“Fine,” Merry growled. He folded his arms over his chest and looked away from Pippin.

Pippin waited a few minutes and when Merry said nothing more, Pippin decided that it was time to poke the badger so to speak. He gathered his courage and cleared his throat. “What is bothering you, Cousin?”

Merry sighed and slumped even lower on the sofa. “It’s like Minas Tirith only in reverse, Pippin. Haven’t you noticed it at all?” Merry asked sounding frustrated.

“Here’s an example,” Merry said. “This evening I decided to go up to the Hall for a while to visit with my family. You decided to stay here and see to the animals and work in your garden a bit so I went alone.”

“You told me that you didn’t mind if I stayed behind,” Pippin said now concerned that he had caused Merry’s latest fit of door slamming by not accompanying him to the Hall.

“I didn’t mind,” Merry said in that irritable tone with which Pippin was fast becoming acquainted. “That isn’t the problem. I was only building up to the problem.”

“I went up to the Hall and I sat down to dinner with my parents and several cousins,” Merry continued. “As I sat down in my chair, I banged both of my knees on the table top! It hurt and so naturally I winced a bit. This caused quite a bit of rude laughter from Berilac and from my father. Then everyone started telling me that with my long legs I might need a higher table!” Merry snorted. “I have been eating at that very table since I was a faunt! The rest of the meal I had to endure questions from my Aunt as to whether or not I was comfortable.” Merry went on in an impersonation of the Aunt, his voice taking on a high pitch and shaking slightly as he spoke. “Do you find it hard being so very tall? Don’t you bump your head a lot? Just exactly how tall are you, dear?”

Pippin bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing. This was not the time to snicker. Merry’s impersonation was very funny and spot on but Merry would not appreciate Pippin’s amusement at this moment.

“Then after dinner we went into the parlor and I thought that perhaps there’d be another topic of discussion other than my height that might be of interest to them,” Merry said. “I was wrong. I was asked to stand back-to-back with several relatives so that it could be determined exactly how much taller I am!”

“Like with Sam in Minas Tirith!” Pippin reminded Merry. “When he couldn’t believe how much we’d grown.” Pippin chuckled. “He kept saying that it wasn’t possible at our ages.”

“It was like that only I didn’t mind when Sam did it,” Merry said. “I did mind when Berilac pointed out that, no matter where I am, I can be easily spotted because I am now the tallest Hobbit in all the Shire! That bothered me considerably.”

“Naturally,” Pippin scowled. “You were annoyed because Berilac was wrong. I’m the tallest Hobbit in the Shire.”

Merry turned to look at him and frowned. “No, you aren’t,” Merry said. “I am.”

“You are wrong about that, Cousin,” Pippin smiled. “You see, before we became so very tall, the Bullroarer was the tallest Hobbit to have ever lived in the Shire and since I am a Took, naturally the Ent draught affected me a bit more than it did you. I am the tallest Hobbit in the Shire. Berilac is wrong on that point.”

“It just so happens that my mum is a Took or have you forgotten exactly how we are related?” Merry said stiffly. “Besides, I was taller than you to begin with and so naturally, I am still taller than you.”

“You may have been taller than me before the Ent draft but you aren’t taller than I am now,” Pippin said flexing the toes of his outstretched foot and smiling. He was quite pleased with what he saw.

Merry groaned. “Fine, think whatever you like. I don’t know why I am arguing about this issue. The point of this discussion is that I am tired of everyone in the Shire treating me as if I were some sort of oddity on display. In Minas Tirith everyone stared at us because we were smaller than they were. They thought of us as being child-like and they sometimes forgot that we weren’t children at all. I thought that it would be very comforting to return home to the Shire and be treated like any other Hobbit again but when I come back I find that folks refuse to let things return to normal. I am still the object of much starring.”

“Well, what did you expect them to do?” Pippin asked. “Here you are, one of only a few Hobbits ever to leave the Shire at all and you return in full armor and a considerable amount taller than when you left. I should wonder about them all if they weren’t a bit curious. You know it isn’t only Tooks that can be curious about things, Merry.”

“A bit of curiosity is one thing,” Merry sighed. “I was in the Green Dragon a week ago and some of the lads were having bets on arm wrestling challenges. It was all in good fun. Just some harmless wagers for drinks and so I decided to join in. The trouble was, none of them would challenge me! They looked at me as if I were daft to have even suggested such a thing!”

Pippin laughed a bit now because he really couldn’t help himself. “You were daft! You’d have been the clear winner in all contests. There probably isn’t a Hobbit in all the Shire that can best you at arm wrestling. You won most of the time among your friends before we left but now you would be impossible to beat. They would have been out of their minds to take your challenge, Merry. You’d have been up to your considerably high arse in drinks within minutes!”

“As I recall, before we left the Shire those were the only two Hobbits around here that usually beat you and I am guessing that you could win over either of them without breaking a sweat now,” Pippin smiled.

“It is if a Hobbit doesn’t want to spend all of his coin buying you drinks,” Pippin laughed.

“Aren’t you at all bothered by any of this?” Merry frowned. “Surely you must have got some of the same treatment that I’ve got.”

Pippin smiled. “I spent two hours the other night listening to your mum and several others go on about how I’d grown.”

“Because, unless it has slipped your notice, I’m not at all used to that sort of thing,” Pippin said. “I am the one that everyone always patted on the head and smiled at. I am the one that everyone thought was so much younger than I actually was because I was so small. I am used to being the topic of discussions in which others wonder if I will ever be of proper height or even manage to be as tall as the lass I might one day marry. I am the one that everyone refused to arm wrestle with because they found it too easy to best me.”

Merry looked startled by this information. “You might have wanted to be a bit taller and perhaps a bit heavier or a bit stronger but this is more than just a growth spurt, Pippin.”

“I am quite pleased with it,” Pippin grinned. He stood up as if to make his point clearer. “I am no longer everyone’s little cousin or little brother. Most folks do not pat my head or muss my hair because most of them have trouble reaching the top of me. For the first time in my life, I am not the smallest and I like it very much.”

“But everyone thinks we are entirely too tall!” Merry said, standing and facing Pippin. “I’ve had a few mothers back their children up from me saying things like, ‘Be careful because Mister Brandybuck might not see you there.’ As if I would actually step on a child!”

“I’ve been overlooked and stepped on before,” Pippin said frowning. “Several times in fact.”

“I didn’t mean you had,” Pippin said. “Your father did once, but I don’t think you have.” Pippin cocked his head to one side and seemed to ponder this question.

“I have never stepped on anyone’s child,” Merry said firmly. “Yet there are Hobbits out there in the Shire that believe that I might do just that very thing.”

Pippin patted Merry on the shoulder. “You’re being too sensitive, Meriadoc. They are probably just a wee bit intimidated by you and really that shouldn’t be anything new for you. Folks have always thought that you were rather imposing. You were tall before we left and you’ve always been stronger than most of the other lads. Besides, you’re the Master’s son.”

“Imposing?” Merry looked at Pippin in surprise. “You didn’t seem to find me imposing back then. I don’t ever recall you backing down from an argument with me or moving out of my way.”

“That is because I am used to very tall, imposing Brandybucks,” Pippin smiled. “I’ve been among them all of my life. Besides, I’m dreadfully difficult to impress.”

Merry snorted and sat back down on the sofa with a resounding thud. “I wish we’d never drank that Ent draught, Pippin,” he said softly.

“I do,” Merry said. “I was tall enough before I left home and I’d be very content to be that size again. I don’t enjoy being ogled at and I am starting to lose my patience with it all.”

“Starting? I’d say that you lost your patience some time ago,” Pippin said.

“Two weeks ago I came upon some of my cousins and some of the other local Hobbits having a wrestling match and I stopped to watch for a time,” Merry said. “I wasn’t in my uniform or anything, just my regular clothing like now.” Merry straightened his bright blue waistcoat self-consciously and continued. “I was watching Merimas wrestle with Buck Greenholm and well before they got to the point of a winner I causally offered to wrestle the victor.” Merry sighed. “You should have seen the looks on their faces! They were terribly rude about the entire matter and Merimas actually accused me of having an evil streak in me for even suggesting such a thing.”

“What has this to do with a dog?” Merry demanded. Pippin’s mind did wander off in odd directions but Merry wasn’t certain that he had the patience for that sort of thing just now.

“More than that,” Pippin said. “My father actually thought that Big Black might have belonged to some of the big folk and that he wasn’t a Hobbit dog at all. He was that big, Merry. He looked like a small pony!”

“The point is, Big Black never seemed to know that he was bigger than the other dogs,” Pippin said. “He would try to run under fences that they could run under and he’d get caught and have to back out. He’d try to play with the other dogs and they’d lie down and refuse to have any of it. He didn’t mean to hurt them but he was just too big for them.”

Pippin’s eyes widened. “Well, if I am I didn’t mean to,” Pippin said quickly. “It’s only that you’re too big for a fair match against Merimas or any of the others. Merry, if for no other reason, you’ve been trained to fight for battle by real soldiers! These are just Hobbits from the Shire, Merry.”

“A really big dog in a farm of smaller, less tough dogs,” Pippin said slowly. “You’re still a dog but now you’re too big to play with the other dogs.”

“When you were twenty-five?” Merry wanted to ignore Pippin at this point but he was far too curious about exactly what was coming next. He did hope that Pippin was not going to compare him to any more farm animals.

Merry nodded. “We were staying with Frodo at Bag End because a hard rain had washed out part of the road to Tuckborough and you were rather disappointed about not being able to have a proper celebration with your family so Frodo and I tried to cheer you up by taking you out for a night at the Green Dragon.”

Pippin smiled brightly at the memory. “I was tying to be cheerful but I was not doing too well and so when a large group of the lads moved out back of the Dragon for a bit of wrestling and wagering you and Frodo took me out there with you.”

“That was the night that we found out what a fine wrestler you were,” Merry said. “Frodo and I had taken you out to watch some of the others and I was keen to do a bit of betting. The winners of the matches were doing quite well as I recall until you showed up.”

Pippin grinned widely at Merry. “As I recall, Sam was wrestling with Jolly Cotton when we came out and after he finished, a smaller lad, one of the Chubbs, maybe Ben or Pete, was going up to wrestle and you suggested that I have a go at him.”

“I believe it was Ben,” Merry said. “I think I did suggest your first match.”

Pippin smiled. “I was a bit reluctant because they were all bigger than I was and I usually lost at those sorts of contests but as it seemed to be important to you, I went on up and had a try. I won without too much effort and then had to face another opponent.”

“Frodo and I stood there for the rest of the evening and watched you win match after match,” Merry said. “It was-“

Pippin snorted. “All of those victories must have cost you and Frodo a fair penny.”

“What?” Pippin grinned. “That you and Frodo were paying the other lads to lose to me? Not at first but after the third match I suspected something.” Pippin laughed. “By the fourth match I was certain that one of you were in debt up to your eyes because that was when I managed to pin Sancho Proudfoot! Whichever one of you paid for that, must have paid dearly because Sancho would have never lost to me in front of witnesses without getting a very high price for his trouble.”

“That was my brilliant idea,” Merry said sarcastically. “Frodo said that Sancho would be trouble but I refused to listen to him. I knew how you’d always wanted to best Sancho at something and so I figured that you’d enjoy beating him in a match.”

“Even though you know we’d set the entire thing up?” Merry laughed. “I mean if you knew that you hadn’t actually won then why did you enjoy it?”

“Because even though it was all a set up,” Pippin smiled. “It was a good set up and at times I almost believed I was winning on my own. As you and Frodo and everyone else have pointed out to me many times, I am entirely too easily taken in.”

“Why didn’t you say something and stop us?” Merry asked the amusement plain for all to see in his eyes. “I mean if you knew what we were doing then why do you let it go on?”

“It was a birthday gift,” Pippin said. “I may have been small and gullible but I wasn’t rude, Merry. You don’t turn your nose up at a gift and most especially one that is so generous. You paid for Sancho twice that evening. That was very good of you.”

Merry rolled his eyes. “The second time I paid for Sancho, he informed me that if I didn’t allow him a rematch that he’d tell you the whole truth. At the time, I thought you didn’t know and so I paid him so that he’d keep quiet.”

Pippin dissolved into laughter. “That Sancho always knew a good deal when he saw one!”

Merry laughed too and then suddenly he turned to Pippin and asked, “What does that have to do with my experience?”

“I just thought of it because normally the other lads beat me soundly at wrestling,” Pippin said. “I suspect that now if you were to wrestle Merimas then I’d have to pay him and quite well I should think.”

Merry groaned and leaned his head back against the sofa. “I know I’m being silly, Pip but I miss those sorts of things. I miss contests. I was rather good at them and I enjoyed winning. Now, I suppose that I shall be a spectator for the rest of my life.”

“Well, I think you will have to find some other sort of competition to enter,” Pippin said. “Maybe something like draughts or pie eating or darts?”

“But wouldn’t I be left out of the pie eating because I am so much bigger?” Merry asked.

“Really, Merry! Do you know any self-respecting Hobbit that doesn’t believe he can eat more pie than anyone, even a larger Hobbit?” Pippin asked. “We’re Hobbits, Merry and all Hobbits are proud of how much they can eat. I suspect that you’d have plenty of challengers just because if any of them bested you, think of the bragging they could do.”

“There’s also dancing,” Pippin said. “They have those dance competitions all the time and I don’t think being taller makes you the clear winner at dancing. Or there’s that contest where they judge who has grown the largest potato or squash! Think of it, Merry, if one of the largest Hobbits in the Shire were to actually grow the largest potato!”

“The other lads will play with you, they just don’t want you to kill them,” Pippin said.

“I am a bit too old for some of this nonsense,” Merry said. “Still, maybe I should think about practicing up on my pie-eating skills for the next fair.”

“And if you’re worried then I will be happy to pay a few of the other Hobbits to lose to you,” Pippin offered. “I suppose all of this is just part of adjusting. Strider did warn us that it might be difficult to fit back into our old lives. He said it because of the way war changes folks but I suppose it could apply to height too in this case.”

“How did you get so clever?” Merry asked. “As I recall, you are still the younger cousin.”

“I have surrounded myself with very clever Hobbits,” Pippin said with a shrug. “I guess some of that is finally rubbing off on me.”

“I suppose we should get some rest,” Merry grinned. “I think I’ll go on to bed now that I am not angry. Of course I will be annoyed by my bed covers being a bit too short but I think I can live with that now.”

“I don’t mind the short covers,” Pippin said, standing. “I like to have my feet stick out.”

“That is why your feet are always cold,” Merry sighed. “Isn’t there anything at all that you don’t enjoy about being taller?” Merry stood as he asked this.

“I saw Frodo do it the other day when you were sitting at the breakfast table,” Merry grinned.

“Well, that’s Frodo,” Pippin said. “I suppose I don’t mind when he does it because he doesn’t do it to make me feel small.”

“Neither do I,” Merry said. “I just do it partly out of habit and partly to annoy you.”

Pippin sighed. “I suspect that I shall have to suffer through it where you are concerned then. But not in front of anyone.”

“That was before the Ent Draught,” Pippin reminded him. “It was also before I became a Knight of Gondor. I do think I can take you now.”

“I do hope no one’s paid you to lose to me,” Merry said and he mussed Pippin’s hair again. “You were a hopeless runt before.”

“I was a wee bit small but I was not a runt,” Pippin objected. “You’re just jealous because I’m taller than you now.”

Merry sighed and rolled his eyes as Pippin walked into his bedroom and closed the door. He supposed it would be all right to allow Pippin to think he was taller if it made the Took happy. At least this time, Pippin’s delusion wasn’t costing him anything.

Sometimes an idea just sticks in my head and it won't go away until I completely exhaust all possibilities. If you read "Poking the Badger", the chapter before this one, then you will know that I have tackled this subject at least once before. This story resulted from the same conversations on "Filling in the Corners" sight. The parts of this story that are set apart by *** are directly from "The Two Towers" and are the words of J.R.R. Tolkien. The rest of this is a bit of gap-filling on my part. This takes place during the Quest and it begins in Fangorn Forest. I do have to thank everyone on "Filling in the Corners" for their comments and suggestions on this issue and Gryffinjack who runs the site.

Thank you all for reading and I promise to move on to another subject now. I think this gets this one completely out of my system!

***The drink was like water, indeed very like the taste of the draught they had drunk from the Entwash near the borders of the forest, and yet there was some scent or savour in it which they could not describe; it was faint, but it reminded them of the smell of a distant wood borne from afar by a cool breeze at night. The effect of the draught began at the toes, and rose steadily through every limb, bringing refreshment and vigour as it coursed upwards, right to the tips of the hair. Indeed the hobbits felt that the hair on their heads was actually standing up, waving and curling and growing. _ Treebeard, The Two Towers, page 460***

***Merry and Pippin climbed on to the bed and curled up in the soft grass and fern. It was fresh, and sweet-scented, and warm. The lights died down, and the glow of the trees faded; but outside under the arch they could see old Treebeard standing, motionless, with his arms raised above his head. The bright stars peered out of the sky, and lit the falling water as it spilled on to his fingers and head, and dripped, dripped, in hundreds of silver drops on to his feet. Listening to the tinkling of the drops the hobbits fell asleep. - Treebeard, The Two Towers, page 467***

It was full dark now and Pippin twisted about and turned in an effort to get back to sleep again. Something had woke him and he was uncomfortable now. He tried not to wake Merry but in all of his squirming he must have disturbed his cousin.

“What are you doing?” Merry hissed as he rolled over to face Pippin as best he could in the dark.

“Well, you did so you might as well tell me what’s on your mind so that we can both go back to sleep.” Merry propped himself up on one elbow and peered at Pippin through the dark.

“It’s nothing really,” Pippin said sounding slightly embarrassed. “It’s only that there seems to be something wrong with my trousers.”

“Your trousers?” Merry frowned. Merry tried to look down at Pippin’s legs with what little light the stars afforded them. They were inside the Ent house and so most of the light was cut off. “I don’t see anything amiss just now but there isn’t a proper amount of light really.”

“Well, I think they’re shorter than they ought to be,” Pippin said. He sat up and stretched his legs out in front of him. “See, they don’t fall properly.” He reached forward and tugged at the hems of each trouser leg so that Merry might get the proper idea of the problem.

Orcs?” Pippin frowned. “Surely you don’t mean to say the Orcs have hemmed up my trousers, Meriadoc.”

Merry snickered. “No, you arse. They drug you about and tossed you on the ground and made you run until your feet felt as if they might fall off but I don’t recall any sewing.”

Pippin grinned. “I would have welcomed a bit of sewing if it would have kept them from those whips of theirs. I still don’t see what you’re trying to say and how it could answer my question about my trousers though.”

“I suspect that the hems are torn and frayed from all that we endured,” Merry said. “They probably ruined the lower part of your trousers, Pippin. I suspect that they are shorter now.”

“Oh,” Pippin said giving them a last look and then lying back down on the soft ferns and sweet smelling grass. “I suppose I look a fright.”

“I suspect that we both do,” Merry yawned. “Now, go to sleep and we will deal with your wardrobe in the morning.” He rolled over and that, Pippin knew was the end of the discussion.

“What are you laughing about?” Merry frowned over at Pippin. The two of them had been bathing and they were now getting dressed for the long day ahead. Treebeard was not around just now but Merry was certain that he would return soon.

“What about my waistcoat?” Merry demanded as he turned to face Pippin who was just buttoning up his shirt.

“You’ve done something to it,” Pippin smiled. “It must be crooked in the back because it’s up too high. It isn’t hitting the top of your trousers. I can see your shirt beneath it.”

Merry looked down at his waistcoat and frowned. He tugged at the bottom of it and when this failed to correct the problem he quickly unbuttoned it and slipped it off. “Must have twisted something up in the back.”

“No, of course not,” Merry sighed as he examined the waistcoat. “I always try to take it off if I can so that it will be one item of clothing that doesn’t appear to have been slept in.” Merry checked the small adjustment belt in the back which allowed him to tighten or loosen the waistcoat. This was particularly helpful after a large meal. He loosened it at bit and straightened the back of the waistcoat carefully. Then he slid it on and began to button it.

Pippin grinned. “Looks the same, Meriadoc. Did the Orcs do that too?” Pippin arched an eyebrow at his cousin.

Merry scowled. “The hem seems to be fine. I think this waistcoat has shrunk, Pippin.”

“I don’t know but it is shorter than it was. It’s a full inch above my waist and that isn’t at all proper,” Merry tugged at it again.

“One thing is certain,” Pippin said. “You’ve not eaten too much and outgrown it.” Pippin’s stomach rumbled at this and then suddenly they both looked up to see Treebeard standing there.

Treebeard was still involved with the Ent Moot which was taking considerable time as Treebeard had warned them it would. Quickbeam had sat the Hobbits down for a time and was allowing them to stretch and walk around a bit. He seemed to know that they needed to move around on their own.

“The Orcs have done strange things to your trousers too, Merry,” Pippin said looking amused as they walked.

“I was just taking note of that fact,” Merry frowned. He had removed his waistcoat and had left it back at the Ent house. Merry never liked looking improperly dressed. An ill-fitting waistcoat was simply something that he could not abide.

“I had to roll up my shirt cuffs too,” Pippin said. “They are now an inch above my wrists but they don’t look at all frayed. They just look short.”

Merry stretched his own arms out in front of him and frowned. “So are mine. What in thunder is going on here?” He reached down, unbuttoned his cuffs and began to roll them up a turn or two.

“It’s all rather odd, isn’t it?” Pippin said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think we’d grown.”

Merry laughed. “You wish we’d grown.” He reached over and patted Pippin on the top of the head.

“Well, it does make some sense, Merry,” Pippin objected pushing Merry’s hand away. “I don’t recall us getting wet enough recently to shrink our clothing and yet it clearly doesn’t fit well.”

“Pippin, I am thirty-six,” Merry smiled. “How many thirty-six-year-old Hobbits do you know that suddenly experience a growth spurt?”

“I am afraid that you are as tall as you are going to get,” Merry smiled sympathetically. “Twenty-eight-year-old Hobbits don’t grow either.”

“What are you fussing about?” Pippin inquired as he came outside of the Ent house on the second morning and walked over to join Merry.

“My trouser are even shorter today than yesterday,” Merry said. “If this continues I shall be wearing short pants like a little lad by the time the Ent Moot is over.”

“Mine are nearly hitting my knees now,” Pippin said leaning over and looking at them.

“I don’t want my knees to show,” Merry complained. “They’re knobby. I don’t have nice knees.”

Pippin laughed. “You have dreadful ears but I don’t see you doing anything to hide them. Why worry about your knees? Everyone will be so busy staring at your ears that they’ll not notice your knees at all.”

“There is nothing wrong with my ears,” Merry snapped. “Besides, my hair covers them.”

“One of them is sticking out right now,” Pippin said and he pointed to Merry’s right.

Merry reached up to straighten out his hair and Pippin laughed again. “Or not.”

“My hair covers my ears but unfortunately everyone can see your nose,” Merry smiled.

Pippin rubbed the end of his nose and frowned. “There is nothing wrong with my nose.”

“If anything on you has grown at all, it’s that pointed beak of yours,” Merry teased.

Pippin removed his hand crossed his eyes in an attempt to get a proper look at his own nose. “Looks the same as always to me,” he said irritated.

As they stood before their picnic on the ruins of the gates of Isengard, Merry and Pippin faced one another and surveyed each other critically. “You need a hair cut,” Merry offered, looking at Pippin’s curls.

“So do you,” Pippin said. “It’s hitting the collar of your shirt and you never allow your hair to get that long.”

“I don’t suppose you saw anything that we might trim our hair with inside did you?” Merry frowned.

“No, but I wasn’t really looking,” Pippin said. “Besides, I suspect that you wouldn’t allow me to trim your hair even if we had something to do it with.”

Merry looked horrified. “I most assuredly would not. I was thinking that I might trim it a bit on my own thank you very much.”

“Maybe it’s best that we didn’t find anything then,” Pippin said. “We’d only argue over it. I am not about to allow you to cut my hair either.”

“Merry, the last time you cut my hair it was a full inch shorter on one side and there was a large gap in the back. Even Pearl couldn’t fully repair the damage. She just kept muttering, ‘why did you let him near you with scissors?’ and she kept wacking me on the top of my head with the comb every time she came to a patch of hair that you’d ruined.” Pippin rubbed the top of his head as if he could still feel the pain from his older sister’s comb. “She said if I ever allowed you to cut my hair again that she’d take the clippers father uses on the sheep and sheer me bald as a lesson.”

Merry snorted. “Pearl is far too critical of everything. I may have missed a few spots or gone up hill a time or two but it was a passable job.”

“All the same, I have no wish to be shorn like a sheep, Merry,” Pippin said.

“Very well, no hair cuts then,” Merry said. “Now, you need to even the folding of your cuffs, Pippin. One is higher than the other.”

Pippin extended his arms and then began to unfold the cuffs. “I think this is a great deal of work to greet a King that we’ve never met before.”

“Treebeard said that this was important and so we have to try to look presentable,” Merry said. “We are representing Treebeard in this and we are also representing the Shire. We don’t want this King to get an improper impression of Shire folk, do we?”

“I suppose not,” Pippin agreed. “One of your trouser legs is rather badly torn, Merry. What happened to it?”

“I think I hooked it on one of Treebeard’s branches,” Merry sighed. “We’ve no mending kit or threads so I shall just have to hope that this King will come to realize that we’ve been out in the wild for some time now.”

“Better?” Pippin asked holding out his arms so that Merry could inspect his sleeves.

“Much,” Merry nodded. “If I didn’t know that your shirt sleeves were too short, I’d not notice a thing with them folded in that fashion.” He looked at Pippin and sighed. “Sadly, there isn’t anything at all to be done about our trousers.”

“I suppose not,” Pippin shrugged. “I’ve let me braces out somewhat and that seems to help slightly but they are still entirely too short. At least we are somewhat clean. I was pleased that we were able to wash our things out a bit while in Fangorn.”

“Yes, it is well that we are clean,” Merry agreed. “I was almost afraid to wash my trousers for fear they might shrink until I could no longer wear them.”

"I don't know what else it could be," Merry shrugged as he let his braces out a bit more in the hopes of making his trousers appear a bit longer.

"It's a shame that when you wash something it doesn't sometimes get larger," Pippin said.

"Well, somehow we seem to be taller and if we are then it must have been the water that we bathed in," Pippin said thinking out loud. "If that is so, then why would it be so difficult to believe that the same water might make our clothing larger too?"

"So now you've decided that we are taller and that it is because of the fact that we bathed in the water in Fangorn Forest?" Merry grinned in amusement.

"It makes some sense Merry," Pippin said looking insulted at his older cousin's attitude. "If we are taller and that water that we bathed in is responsible then why wouldn't it make our clothing larger? Think of all the money that could be made on a thing of that sort." Pippin's expression brightened. "If you ate too much and out grew your things you could simply wash them in the water from Fangorn Forest and they would instantly be larger!"

"If the water made us larger then what would keep your hands from becoming larger when you put them in the water to wash out your things?" Merry asked. "Just imagine some Hobbit who spends all morning washing clothing in the water from Fangorn Forest and then turns up at the noon meal with hands three times the size of a normal Hobbit's hands. What then?"

Pippin frowned and stared at his hands. "I guess it isn't anything at all to do with the water we bathed in is it?"

"No, we aren't any larger," Merry smiled. "Something has just happened to our clothing."

"But what do you think has happened Merry? How do you explain this?" Pippin wanted to know. He was greatly annoyed that his theory about washing in the water of Fangorn Forest had not been better received. He did regret that he had not discovered a new miracle washing idea and was loath to give it up.

“I honestly don’t know what to think, Pip,” Merry said. “If I didn’t know better I would begin to believe that you were right and that we’ve both grown. I have no idea how that would be possible though.”

Pippin smiled forgetting his laundry plans in favor of an idea that enjoyed more. “Wouldn’t that surprise everyone back home?”

“I should think that they’d be completely stunned by it if it were true,” Merry grinned. “Imagine, it would be impressive enough if I had grown, but I am not entirely certain that the Shire is ready for a tall Peregrin Took!”

“If I were taller, the first thing I’d do is walk up to Sancho Proudfoot and rap him on the top of his head with my knuckles,” Pippin grinned. “Then I should enjoy finding everyone who has ever mussed my hair or patted me on the top of my head and doing that very thing to them.” Pippin sighed and sat down amid the food that he and Merry had collected for a snack which they planned to eat while waiting for Treebeard’s guests to arrive.

“I would enjoy watching that,” Merry laughed as he sat down also. He sighed when he noticed how far up on his legs his trousers had shifted when he sat. “We look as if we’ve been dressed out of a rag basket.”

“My sisters would be fit to be tied if they could see me now,” Pippin grinned. “My shirt comes out of my trousers when I sit down. I’d not be allowed at the table looking like this.”

“Fortunately, we are not at a table,” Merry said, lifting a mug full of ale to his lips and taking a deep drink.

“Yes, well, knowing my older sisters I suspect that they won’t even allow me to eat on the ruined site of a great battle in this attire,” Pippin said drinking from his own cup. I can just hear Pervinca now. Pippin raised his voice an octave and said, “Peregrin Took, you should be ashamed of yourself! How dare you come to a meal dressed like that. This was the site of an important battle and you are being very disrespectful by sitting down to meal dressed like a bedraggled orphan child.”

Merry laughed spilling some of his ale onto the ground. “Bedraggled orphan?”

Pippin nodded. “According to Pervinca all orphans are bedraggled. Sometimes they are filthy but they are always bedraggled.” He smiled. “She once said that I was the image of a filthy little bedraggled orphan in front of Frodo.”

Merry sucked in his breath and his eyes widened as he imagined the scene. “What did Frodo say to her?”

Pippin laughed. “Nothing at all. He just looked at her so hard and for so long that she blushed fire red and ran from the room. Then Frodo turned to me and said, ‘you know you are filthy. In fact you may be entirely too filthy to be a proper orphan.’”

“I was confused by that for days,” Pippin said. “I thought all orphans were filthy and bedraggled and so naturally I wasn’t sure about any of it anymore. I couldn’t have been more than nine at the time.” Pippin put an entire slice of salted pork into his mouth.

“I hope this King isn’t overly critical,” Merry mused as he watched Pippin chew.

Much later, having greeted the King and their dear friends upon their arrival at the gates, Merry and Pippin busied themselves preparing a meal for Gimli, Legolas, and Aragorn inside the guard house that still stood in tact near the ruined gates.

***The three were soon busy with their meal; and the two hobbits unabashed, set to a second time. “We must keep our guests company,” they said.

“You are full of courtesy this morning,” laughed Legolas. “But maybe, if we had not arrived, you would already have been keeping one another company again.”

“Maybe; and why not?” said Pippin. “We had foul fare with the Orcs and little enough for days before that. It seems a long while since we could eat to heart’s content.”

“It does not seem to have done you any harm,” said Aragorn. “Indeed you look in the bloom of health.”

“Aye, you do indeed,” said Gilmi, looking them up and down over the top of his cup. “Why, your hair is twice as thick and curly as when we parted; and I would swear that you have both grown somewhat, if that is possible for hobbits of your age. This Treebeard at any rate has not starved you.”***

Pippin’s eyes widened and he looked over at Merry when Gimli mentioned the possibility that they might have grown. Merry swallowed hard, gave a quick glance at his trouser legs and then he responed to Gimli.

***“He has not,” said Merry. “But Ents only drink, and drink is not enough for content. Treebeard’s draughts may be nourishing, but one feels the need of something solid. And even lembas is none the worse for a change.”

“You have drunk of the waters of the Ents, have you?” said Legolas. “Ah, then I think it is likely that Gimli’s eyes do not deceive him. Strange songs have been sung of the draughts of Fangorn.”***

Merry and Pippin exchanged glances. Merry watched as Pippin straightened to his full height and smiled over at his older cousin looking as if he had just been awarded some sort of prize for a noble act. Merry sighed. Pippin was going to be insufferably pleased about this turn of events for quite some time now. Merry, for his part, was more amused than anything else. Later when Pippin kept insisting that Merry measure him just one more time so that they could be certain about how much they had grown, Merry was far less amused. Merry was even less amused when Pippin became convinced that he was taller than Merry was. Of all things! Naturally, that simply was not true.

I am grateful to Gryffinjack for providing a place to pose questions. Thank you to Slightlytookish and Claudia603 for the laundry idea. I couldn't resist putting it in here. Thank you to Shirebound who says that this is also similar to a Shirebunny. Also to everyone who commented on how the Hobbit's clothing might get shorter but was unlikely to become too tight since they had not eaten properly. Thanks to Dreamflower for pointing out the wear that would have been evident on the Hobbit's clothing after their time with the Orcs. And finally, thank you to everyone who was willing to read a second story on the subject of Ent Draught and Hobbit height!

Creature Challenge 35 for Marigold's Challenges
Elements: Esmeralda Brandybuck, a bucket of water, and an open window
Rated G
Author Grey_wonderer
Beta: Marigold

The small lad stood in the center of the older lads grinning proudly and holding tightly to his prize. Merry scowled down at the child with grey storm cloud eyes but the little one didn’t seem aware that anything was amiss. “I caught it! I caught it my own self!” he crowed proudly still holding tightly to the round, yellow, cloth bag. “No one helped me. I just reached up and caught it!”

“You aren’t supposed to catch it!” Berilac objected making a grab for the bag but the little lad quickly pulled it out of his reach. Frowning in disgust, Berilac looked over at Merry.

“Do something with your shadow, Merry,” Merimas said pointing to the little one. “He’s spoiling the game.”

“Am not!” the child shouted. “You’re just jealous cause I caught it and you didn’t!” The lad squeezed the yellow sack protectively against his chest, as he stood there ringed by older, larger lads, all of whom were glaring at him or at Merry. The yellow beaner, a cloth bag filled with dried beans that was about the size of a grown hobbit’s hand, had been purchased by Merry earlier that summer while he was visiting Frodo in Hobbiton. The toy fascinated the little child partly because he’d never seen one and partly because it belonged to Merry.

“You aren’t supposed to catch it,” Merimas sighed shaking his head. “Now, give us the beaner or we’ll hold you upside down over the hog pen.”

“You will not! Merry won’t let you, will you Merry?” the child said but his eyes showed a trace of fear even as he spoke boldly.

“Merry, either you are a baby minder or you’re playing with us,” Berilac said sternly. “Now, either lose the tag-a-long or leave the game to the rest of us.”

“I’m not a baby!” the little one objected but no one was paying attention to him just now.

Merry moved forward and stood toe-to-toe with his older cousin, Berilac. Berilac straightened but it did little good. Although Merry was two years younger than Berilac both lads were even in height and Merry out-weighted Berilac. Merry’s stormy expression was enough to back down most challengers but as a point of honor, Berilac stood his ground. He couldn’t be seen backing away from the challenge of a younger cousin no matter how large said young cousin was. Just behind Berilac, Falco Boffins smiled and said, “One of you two Brandybucks had better put this little Took in his place or I’ll do it for you. Those hogs over there haven’t been fed yet today and I’m certain that they could make a small snack out of this little trouble-maker.” Falco reached down and patted the child on the head as he spoke.

Eyes wide, the little lad quickly moved over away from Falco and stood behind Merry, taking hold of the older lad’s shirt with one hand while still clinging to the yellow beaner. “Merry, don’t let Falco feed me to the hogs,” the child said urgently.

“No one is feeding anyone to those hogs, Pippin,” Merry growled in annoyance. Behind him Pippin glared at Falco and stuck out his tongue at the older lad. Falco smiled and pointed toward Pippin and then in the direction of the hog pen. Pippin ducked behind Merry for protection.

“You have fifteen minutes to get rid of the runt, or you’re out of this game,” Berilac said firmly. “Either the Pip Squeak goes or you go.” The two cousins locked eyes and glared for a full minute before Merry finally turned away. Berilac inwardly sighed with relief. He had won that round but it wouldn’t be long before his younger cousin realized how easy it would be to turn the tables in their power struggle. Sooner or later it would occur to Merry that he could easily best all of them but for now, the age difference was holding him in place.

Merry turned on Pippin and grabbed the child by the upper arm and began leading him away from the others and toward Brandy Hall.

“Merry, he has our beaner!” Falco shouted. “Toss it!” He raised his arms over his head and waved but Merry didn’t throw the toy back.

“I’ll bring it back as I come,” Merry said. “Besides, it’s my beaner!” There was a general grumbling but Merry ignored this and continued dragging the small child toward the Hall. Beside him, Pippin was hurrying as fast as his much shorter legs would allow.

“Slow down, Merry!” Merry ignored this request and continued on toward the Hall moving at a rather fast pace. In spite of Pippin’s complaints, Merry didn’t slow his step or release his grip on the child until he had reached the Hall and pulled him into the parlor. There he eased his grip and knelt down in front of Pippin so that he might look the slight seven-year-old directly in the eye.

Pippin squirmed a bit and tried to break Merry’s hold on his arm but was completely unsuccessful. With the beaner still held tightly in his other hand, Pippin looked nervously at Merry. “They’re just jealous cause I caught the beaner, Merry,” Pippin said in a very uncertain voice.

“No, they aren’t,” Merry said. “They’re annoyed because you ran into the middle of our game for the tenth or twelfth time today and got under foot like you always do.”

“You weren’t invited to play,” Merry said sternly. “You weren’t even invited to come along. I told you not to follow me.”

“I didn’t think you meant that really,” Pippin said, eyes watering as he fought not to cry in front of his beloved older cousin. “I thought you were just teasing like you always do.”

“I meant it,” Merry said. “And I meant all of those other times that you thought I was teasing. I always mean it and you never listen!”

Pippin’s lower lip trembled slightly but he held his older cousin’s gaze. “I just wanted to play catch with the beaner, Merry.”

“You don’t catch the beaner,” Merry sighed. “It’s like I’ve told you over and over again, you smack it with your hand or your foot or the top of your head and you pass it to the other lads on your team. You try to keep the other team from taking it from you but if you catch it then the other team gets the beaner and the point. You can’t play because you are too small and no matter how many times I explain, you don’t pay attention to the rules. You don’t*catch*the*beaner.” Merry stressed each word of this bit of instruction.

“Oh,” Pippin said softly. “I keep forgetting. I won’t catch it next time, Merry.” Pippin extended the bright yellow bag toward Merry even though he was reluctant to give it up.

Merry reached out and took it and jammed it into one of his pockets, keeping his eyes on Pippin the entire time. “Now, I am going back out and play with the older lads and you are going to quit following me about or I’ll roast you alive, you hear?”

Suddenly angry with all of the threats, Pippin glared back and said, “You will not! You can’t roast me. I’m too big!” He straightened to his full, unimpressive height and stuck out his pointed chin.

“I can and I will,” Merry said, eyes narrowing and an idea forming in his mind. “I have the very way to do it too and no one knows about it.”

“I do,” Merry said with a rather stern look. “Frodo gave it to me and it’s a secret.”

In spite of the danger that he might be in, Pippin’s curious nature compelled him to ask, “What kind of secret? What did Frodo give you? Can I see?”

Merry pretended to consider this for a moment or two and then said, “Fine. I’ll show you so that you know I mean business.” Merry released Pippin’s arm and then started to walk out of the parlor knowing that his younger cousin would follow him. After all, getting Pippin to follow him wasn’t at all difficult; it was getting Pippin to leave him alone that was nearly impossible.

Rubbing his arm, Pippin hurried after Merry completely forgetting that whatever it was that Merry was taking him to see could roast him alive. The important thing in the child’s mind was that Merry had a secret and that their much older and very grown-up cousin, Frodo had given this secret to Merry. The important thing was that Merry was going to share this secret with Pippin. The threat of being roasted alive wasn’t at all on Pippin’s mind now. Besides, Merry was his protector and always had been. Merry certainly wouldn’t roast him alive or hurt him in any way. It had been Merry, just minutes earlier, who had stopped Falco Boffins from feeding him to the hogs.

When Merry reached the door to his bedroom he stopped and turned to face Pippin. “Swear that you won’t tell a single soul what I’m about to show you,” Merry ordered.

“Swear that if you do tell that you’ll cut out your own tongue and let me feed it to the hogs,” Merry said.

Pippin gulped. He hated those hogs! Every time anyone threatened him for any reason, it always came back to those dreadful, muddy, big, hogs. “I swear,” Pippin whispered.

“I swear that if I tell anyone what,” Pippin frowned as he tried to remember how it went. “What is it again?”

“Oh!” Pippin grinned as he remembered. “I swear that if I tell anyone what you have in your room that I’ll cut out my tongue so you can feed it to the hogs.” He recited this brightly as if it were important news rather than a threat.

“Good,” Merry said and he held the door open and ushered Pippin inside. Merry followed Pippin into the room and then closed the door. “Now, I’m going to show you what Frodo gave me.”

Pippin’s eyes shone with excitement and he followed Merry over toward the table next to the window. There was a large, round, glass bowl on the table. It looked more like a large vase than a bowl really. “You could put lots of biscuits in a bowl that big,” Pippin said, impressed.

“The bowl isn’t the important thing,” Merry said. He reached over and lifted Pippin up onto the chair that sat in front of the bowl and then said, “It’s what’s inside of the bowl that’s important.”

Pippin’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell open. Inside of the bowl lounging about on a large, flat, stone was some sort of small animal. It had scaly skin of brownish green, four feet with claws on them, large round reddish eyes rather like a cat’s, and a long, thin tail. The animal didn’t move. It just sat there and stared at Pippin. “W-W-What is it?” Pippin stammered, clearly impressed and slightly frightened. He thought he knew what it was but he wasn’t certain. He’d never been this close to one before.

“What do you think it is?” Merry asked. “Look closely and tell me what it reminds you of,” Merry encouraged. “See the scaly skin? Think about all of those stories that Bilbo tells us. Think about Bilbo’s adventures with the Dwarves and then you tell me what this is.”

Pippin frowned as an idea occurred to him but he quickly discarded it. “It’s too small. Those are big and very scary. This is a lizard, isn’t it?”

“Where did Frodo get it?” Pippin asked. “Is it one of Smaug’s babies?”

“Smaug is dead, remember?” Merry reminded the child. He bit his lip to keep from chuckling at his own cleverness and the younger lad’s gullible nature. “This dragon isn’t Smaug’s baby but it is a baby dragon.”

“Where are its wings?” Pippin frowned. “Dragon’s have wings. Bilbo says so and your dragon doesn’t have any wings.”

“They get wings as they grow,” Merry said thinking quickly. It seemed that Pippin would take a bit more convincing if this was to work but Merry was up to the task. “They aren’t born with wings. It’s like baby hobbits aren’t born with teeth. The wings come later.”

Pippin nodded understanding this completely. “Make it breathe fire, Merry,” Pippin requested.

“It can breath fire but I won’t let it just now,” Merry said. “Even though it’s very little, it can breathe fire with such force that it could set the smial ablaze. I have it trained. Frodo showed me how to train it so that it won’t ruin things by burning them up. Frodo knows all about dragons. He learned their ways from Bilbo and he taught me all about them too. That’s why Frodo trusts me with this dragon.”

“The important thing for you to know is that I have this dragon and that even though it is a baby dragon it can breathe more than enough fire to roast you to a cinder, Peregrin Took!” Merry said. “Now, if you don’t do exactly as I say and quit following me about then I will set this dragon on you.”

Pippin nearly fell from the chair and would have if Merry hadn’t caught him by the shoulders. “You’d let it roast me?” Pippin asked in a nervously high voice.

“I’ll have no choice if you don’t quit bothering me when I’m doing things with the older lads,” Merry said in a voice that meant business. “Now either you keep my secret and do as I say or I promise you that I will let this tiny dragon singe all of the hair off of your head as a warning. Then if you bother me again, I’ll have it toast you to a cinder. Do you understand?”

Pippin nodded, the fear plain to see in his eyes as he climbed down from the chair and backed away from the once interesting dragon. “You would really roast me up?” Pippin asked in a small voice.

“I can and I will,” Merry said. “Dragons like to roast things and so it’s very hard to keep them from doing it. It would be a real treat for my little dragon to get to roast someone or something for a change.” Merry looked at the frightened child and for an instant he almost felt guilty, almost. He had spent the last two weeks trying to avoid the little child only to have Pippin turn up in the middle of his games during the daytime and in his bedroom at night. Pippin would slip into the room after dark with that ridiculous stuffed rabbit of his and climb into Merry’s bed and chatter for hours about any and every strange thing that came into his head. Merry had to put a stop to this once and for all or Pippin would completely ruin his summer. After all, Merry was fifteen now. He didn’t want to be stuck with a seven-year-old all summer. Pippin was annoying all of Merry’s older friends and everyone was blaming Merry. This was the only way. “Now, I want you to go find something else to do besides follow me around. In fact, if you see me coming then you had better make yourself scarce. You understand?” Merry said pointing at the dragon.

Pippin nodded and wiped at one eye. “I won’t bother you any more, Merry.” He sniffled. “Please don’t make your dragon roast me.”

“I won’t tell,” Pippin said wiping at his eyes again and backing closer to the door.

As quick as a flash Pippin raced to the door, pulled it open and ran off down the hallway. Merry felt a pang of guilt and then looked over at the harmless little river lizard in the glass bowl and sighed. “Well, part of it is the truth anyway. Frodo did catch you and give you to me.” He traced a finger over the side of the bowl.

Suddenly something struck the window and Merry jumped. He walked over and looked out to find his friends standing there looking up at him. Berilac shouted loud enough to be heard through the glass. “Either give us the beaner or get back out here so we can finish the game, Merry!”

Forgetting Pippin and the dragon story, Merry opened the window and climbed out to join his friends.

“Wait a minute, Pippin,” Nelly frowned catching her younger brother by his braces as he tried to run past her. “Where are you off to?”

Panting, Pippin tugged fiercely. Why was it that everyone seemed to be able to hold him in place when he wanted to escape? “I have to hurry, Nelly,” Pippin said sounding breathless. “Merry’s coming!”

“I’m not playing with Merry,” Pippin assured her. “I got to go now, Nelly!” Pippin managed to tug himself free and off he ran leaving Nell standing in the parlor looking puzzled. Just as Pippin left the room, Merry entered with Merimas.

“He just ran out of here,” Nell said. “He said that he had to go because you were coming. Are you teasing him or something?”

Before Merry could answer Merimas spoke up. “We didn’t do anything to Pippin. We haven’t seen him for two glorious brat-less days now.”

Nell scowled at Merimas and walked over to him. She stood close to him and looked down at him. Nell was an inch taller than Merry and so that made her more than a match for Merimas. “It’s fine if you don’t play with Pippin. In fact, I’m certain that Pippin would be quite bored if he were forced to spend time with you, Merimas Brandybuck, but I won’t have you talking about my little brother,” Nell said one hand balled into a fist at her side. At eighteen, Nell was still more at home with lads than lasses and she could throw a punch that would send most lads sprawling. Merimas would be no match for her if she decided to strike.

“I know what you said,” Nell glared. “Just see to it that you remember what I’ve said.” She raised her fist, held it directly in front of Merimas’s nose so that he could study it for a moment, and then left the room.

After he was certain that Nell Took was out of earshot, Merimas said, “I could take her. She’s all brag and no action.”

“Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better,” Merry said. “But I wouldn’t want to tangle with her. She’s dangerous. She made me eat a worm once.”

Merimas frowned, licked his lips and then said, “I could take her. She wouldn’t make me eat any old worm.”

Merry shrugged. “Test that idea out on your own, cousin. I’m staying away from Nell Took.”

“Speaking of Tooks, how did you manage to get rid of Pippin?” Merimas asked.

Merry smiled. He didn’t feel as good about his trick as he thought he should but maybe a bit of bragging would help things. “I threatened him with a dragon,” Merry said. Becoming more pleased with himself with each word, Merry gave his older cousin the details of his arrangement with Pippin. By the time the story was finished, Merimas was howling with laughter. From there, it didn’t take long for the ‘dragon tale’ to spread throughout Brandy Hall among the older lads. The story was very good for Merry’s standing with the other lads and so he didn’t mind retelling it. Each time he told it, he became more relaxed and the story took on more interesting details. In the latest version, Merry had held Pippin up over the bowl and pushed his face toward the ‘dragon’ until the child had begged for mercy. None of the other lads mentioned the dragon to Pippin but this was at least partly because none of them had crossed paths with the seven-year-old since Merry had made his threat. Pippin had been absent from their games and activities.

Merry sat in the dark of his room in his bed staring at the doorway. Surely Pippin would come tonight. That first night Merry had been certain that wild ponies could not have dragged Pippin in here but he had been surprised when Pippin had failed to slip into his room the second night. Now, here it was long after the time that the Pip Squeak usually arrived on the third night since Merry’s threat and there was no sign of Pippin.

Merry had tried to shrug it off. After all, wasn’t this exactly what he had wanted when he had spun the story about dragons in the first place? Hadn’t he been trying to keep Pippin and his icy cold toes out of his bed? He had certainly meant to keep Pippin from following him about like a lost pup during the day. Merry had slept in this bed on his own since he’d been eight. This was his room and he didn’t want or need visitors. Once Frodo had gone off to live with Bilbo, Merry had adjusted to sleeping alone. Up until then he’d slipped into Frodo’s room most nights and slept with him. Still, Merry knew that Pippin didn’t like Brandy Hall after dark. “It’s big and dark and full of rooms and dark corners,” Pippin had explained. Pippin’s own home was a single family dwelling and therefore much cozier. Pippin had his own room in Whitwell and slept in his own bed. Pippin was less secure here and almost always wound up in Merry’s bed. Merry wondered where Pippin was sleeping now.

“Can I?” Pippin asked in a loud whisper. Pearl looked over at her little brother who was standing next to her bed in his nightshirt holding his stuffed rabbit.

Pearl smiled gently and threw back the blankets. “Climb in,” she said. “Just keep those cold feet of yours on your side of the bed.”

Pippin scurried into the bed and tucked himself in tightly all the while holding onto the rabbit. Pearl ran a hand through his curls and said, “Did you and Merry have a fight?”

“Then how come I’ve the honor of your presence rather than Merry?” she asked in a teasing voice.

“Merry’s probably busy or something,” Pippin said in that same low voice. “He likes to sleep by his own self.”

Pearl frowned. Something was most definitely wrong but she wasn’t at all certain what that something might be. “Well, you can stay with me tonight,” she said rubbing his back.

“I’m not scared or anything, Pearl,” Pippin said. “I just think Errol likes company when he sleeps.”

Pearl was used to Pippin assigning ideas to Errol, the stuffed rabbit. The child often talked about the toy as if it were alive. “Well, you and Errol can stay here tonight and get some sleep,” Pearl said putting a protective arm around her little brother. Pippin scooted closer to her and was soon fast asleep with Errol in his arms.

“Come on,” Pervinca demanded. “I want to go outside so you have to go too.” She glared at Pippin who was seated on the floor of the parlor with a book stretched out in front of him.

“I can so,” Pippin shot back. “I read all the time. Pearl is teaching it to me.”

“You can’t read that book,” Pervinca said pointing to the large, picture-less book that lay open in front of Pippin. “That book is for grown-ups.”

“Come outside and we’ll play,” Pervinca said ignoring Pippin’s claim with an amused smirk. “Aunt Esme let me have this basket so that I can go find wild flowers and I need you to help me pick them.”

“I don’t like flowers,” Pippin lied. “You can pick them your own self. I’m reading.”

“You haven’t been outside in two days,” Pervinca objected. “You always go outside. You can go outside now with me or I’ll tell Papa that you’re pretending to read.” It wasn’t much of a threat but it was all she could think of.

“I don’t care,” Pippin said. “And I’m not pretending. I am reading.”

“Why don’t you want to come outside?” Pervinca continued. She was never one to give in easily.

Pippin looked up at her from his place on the floor. “The older lads are outside playing with Merry’s beaner. I don’t want to see them.”

“No I don’t,” Pippin said quickly shaking his head. “I’m staying here so I won’t be under his feet.”

“Fine!” Pervinca shouted. “Read that old book, but I’m going out in the sunshine and get flowers.” She stormed off and Pippin watched her leave. Pervinca didn’t ask him to do many things with her and he was sorry to miss this chance. He liked picking flowers but he couldn’t risk running into Merry. He didn’t want to get roasted by the tiny dragon. Pervinca would just have to do without him this time. Maybe she would come in later and play with him.

Frodo walked into the parlor and knelt down next to Pippin who seemed to be reading one of the largest books from Brandy Hall’s impressive library. The child obviously didn’t notice him. Pippin seemed to be studying the book intently. Frodo smiled and cleared his throat. “What are you reading, Pippin?” he asked.

Pippin, who had been leaning over the large book, sat up quickly and looked at Frodo with surprise. “I didn’t do anything, honest I didn’t!” Pippin said nervously. “I’ve been right here all day long not doing anything so if anyone says that I did anything then they’re wrong.”

Frodo laughed gently. “Easy, Pippin. No one said that you did anything. I just wanted to say hello. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” Frodo said watching as the child’s face eased into a more relaxed look. “I believe that the last time you and I had a chance to visit was when Bilbo and I came to Whitwell three months ago. Remember?”

Pippin nodded but said nothing. This was not at all like Pippin who was always full of questions and stories. Something was wrong.

Pippin shrugged. “I’m mostly looking for letters that spell my name. See, that one there is a P like in my name.” Pippin pointed to the letter, which was in the middle of the word, ‘expectant’ and smiled shyly. “There are lots of words in this big old book that have my letters in them.”

“I can read some of the little words but so far there isn’t much of a story in this book,” Pippin said frowning. “I thought since it was a big book it would have a big story in it but it just has lots of very long words in it and I don’t understand what it means to say. That’s why I’m just only looking for my letters.”

“Why aren’t you outside with the other lads?” Frodo asked. He knew that he, of all folks in the Shire shouldn’t ask such a thing. How many times had he sat indoors reading while everyone else was outside? How many well-meaning relations had asked him that same question? Still, this was Pippin and Pippin couldn’t exactly read just yet. The lad was too young and most certainly Pippin was too young to be reading this book.

“I’m not suppose to say anything,” Pippin said. Then he quickly offered another bit of information that seemed unrelated to the first. “I go home in two weeks if I want.”

Frodo was unsure as to what the time of Pippin’s departure from Buckland had to do with whatever it was that Pippin was not supposed to be talking about. Furthermore, Frodo was uncertain as to what this had to do with the question he’d just ask the child. Neither seemed to answer Frodo’s question and so he tried again. Sometimes, with Pippin, you had to keep trying. “I don’t think I understand, Pippin,” Frodo said. “Why aren’t you outside playing?”

“The big lads are out there,” Pippin said, pointing to the open parlor window. The noise from the older lad’s game floated into the parlor. Pippin then looked over at Frodo and said, “But I go home soon and then I’ll be fine.”

Frodo considered this for a minute but before he could try yet again Pippin said, “Frodo, if you already know something about a secret because you were the one that gave it to Merry in the first place then if I ask you about it am I telling?”

“What secret?” Frodo asked, now completely confused. He wished Merry were here. Somehow, Merry always knew exactly what Pippin meant. “Pippin, what secret?”

“I can’t say or something will happen and then,” Pippin stopped there and frowned at Frodo. “You shouldn’t have given Merry that present!” With those words Pippin got up and hurried out of the room leaving Frodo even more confused than before. What present was Pippin talking about? The only option left was to locate Merry.

Withering under Frodo’s harsh look, Merry’s eyes focused on his toes and he mumbled, “I told him it was a dragon.”

“You told Pippin that your pet lizard was a dragon?” Frodo groaned. “Meriadoc, look at me.” Merry’s eyes snapped upward and he looked directly at Frodo. “What did you tell that child?”

“All right! I told him that the lizard that you gave me was actually a baby dragon and that if he didn’t quit pestering me and following me that I would have my dragon burn his hair off!” Merry shouted hurriedly. “I told him I’d let it roast him alive if he bothered me any more.”

Frodo’s mouth fell open. He started to say something, caught himself and then started again. There seemed no words for this interesting situation. He looked at Merry intently and watched as his younger cousin squirmed beneath his gaze.

“You don’t understand, Frodo!” Merry objected. “The other lads were starting to blame me because Pippin was always in the way. I’d tell him not to follow me but he would follow me just the same. I’d tell him to go back to the Hall but he wouldn’t. I couldn’t get rid of him.”

“Well, you have managed to get rid of him now, Merry,” Frodo said slowly keeping his voice even. “In fact, I don’t think Pippin will come within a hundred yards of you. He’s actually counting the days until he gets to go home.” Frodo sighed. “Congratulations, Merry. You’ve managed to get Pippin to stop following you.”

Now it was Merry’s turn to be speechless. He looked at Frodo and swallowed hard. Suddenly he felt rather ill.

“Nothing scares him,” Merry objected. “Falco threatens him all the time and so does Berilac but Pippin never gets scared. He even talks back to them. One of these days he’s going to say something to one of them and they are going to forget that Pippin is smaller and hit him.”

“You don’t think Pippin is afraid of anything?” Frodo frowned. “Where did you get that idea?”

“He’ll stand right next to me and say the most outrageous things to lads three times his size and twice his age,” Merry said. “He never backs down either. He just runs his mouth and then looks at me as if-“ Merry paused as if realizing something.

“He says those things and then he waits for me to back him up,” Merry said slowly.

“Exactly,” Frodo nodded. “Merry, when Pippin is with you he knows that none of the other lads would dare to harm him. He knows that you’ll protect him. He isn’t afraid because he has you.”

“Why would he think that?” Merry demanded. “I’m not in charge of looking out for him. I’m not his brother or anything. I never told him that I’d look out for him. Why does he think I will?”

“Well, it wasn’t like I meant to or anything,” Merry objected. “I was just around when he’d get himself into trouble, that’s all. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just stand there and let him get hurt. I couldn’t let any of my little cousins get hurt and just stand there. Why does Pippin think that he’s special?” Merry swore under his breath. “I’m too old to play with a seven-year-old. He needs to play with little lads his own age and leave me alone. He isn’t a bad little child or anything but I don’t need him following me about like he does.”

“I don’t think he will bother you anymore, Merry,” Frodo said gently. “I think he’s afraid of you now.”

“And besides that,” Frodo said. “Even if you explained about the lizard and apologized I don’t think Pippin would trust you anymore. I think his feelings would be hurt if he knew the complete truth.”

“I didn’t want to frighten him but I didn’t have any choice,” Merry tried to explain. “He wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“Because he looks up to you,” Frodo said. “He thinks that there is no one in all of the Shire like you. He follows you around because he likes you. Little ones do that, Merry. You did that to me.”

“You, Meriadoc, are fourteen years younger than I am,” Frodo smiled. “I am twenty-nine and you are fifteen. Do you think that what you did was any different than what Pippin is doing?” Frodo sighed. “Do you think that when I went out with the lads my age that I actually wanted to bring you with me?”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Merry demanded, looking slightly insulted.

Frodo shrugged. “I do like your company, Merry. You helped me through some very rough times. Whatever else happened to me, I knew that you loved me. I tried to give that feeling back to you. Sometimes I wanted to go off with the lads my own age for a while and I may have said things to you that I shouldn’t have, but you always forgave me. You were my little shadow.”

Merry had tears in the corner of his eyes now. “I never thought of it like that. I didn’t realize that I was, that I was like Pippin is,” Merry said. “I’m older and so I just thought that it was different.”

“Merry, most little ones attach themselves to an older brother or an older cousin or just some older lad that lives near them that they admire,” Frodo said gently. “I’ve been very lucky. You started following me about as soon as you could walk. I’ve been able to play older brother to you all of your life. I like to think that you and I are very close and that we can always count on one another, don’t you?”

Merry nodded because speaking now would have been too difficult. The tears were flowing freely and he had a lump in his throat.

“You and I spent the first eight years of your life together,” Frodo smiled. He handed Merry his handkerchief and continued. “We see each other whenever possible. Somewhere along the way, Pippin decided that you were his protector and he latched onto you. I don’t know why he selected you and maybe he doesn’t know. All I know is that even when Pippin was a tiny baby and before he could walk or talk his eyes would follow you when you came into a room. You were the one he watched and the one he reached for. You are the one he quotes on all-important matters. You are the one that has stood between him and anyone who means him harm.”

“It isn’t that I don’t like him,” Merry sniffled. “Sometimes I just want to be with the lads my age is all.”

“I know,” Frodo said patting Merry on the shoulder. “I understand that, Merry because I am the same way but you can’t frighten him.”

“I felt guilty for scaring him and for lying to him about the lizard,” Merry confessed. “I know that I shouldn’t have done it.”

“I don’t know,” Merry said. “I don’t guess he’ll forgive me this time.”

“Why don’t we go talk to him and see?” Frodo suggested. “At the very least, you have to tell him that you don’t have a dragon and that you won’t hurt him. The child is afraid to go outside, Merry. He thinks he might run into you and make you angry. Even if he won’t forgive you, you have to straighten this out.”

“I know,” Merry said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor. “I do sort of like him. I mean sometimes he’s funny and he is too brave for his own good. It really isn’t that I don’t like him. It’s only that he’s too little for most things. I don’t mind that he follows me sometimes.”

Frodo put an arm around Merry’s shoulders and started walking him toward the parlor where he had found Pippin earlier. “You’ve missed him, haven’t you?”

Merry nodded, unwilling to admit exactly how much he’d missed his little cousin.

When they reached the parlor Pippin was nowhere to be seen. It was then that Frodo remembered that Pippin had run out of the parlor and left him to go and find Merry for his answers. “Well, Merry, this may be slightly more difficult than I thought it would be,” Frodo sighed. “I think we are going to have to search for Pippin.”

“Well, he won’t be in my room,” Merry said. “The lizard is in there and since Pippin believes that it’s a dragon he won’t go there.”

“I think he might have gone to the room that he sleeps in because he doesn’t seem to be going outside at all,” Frodo said and they set off to the part of the smial in which all of the better guest rooms were located. Merry’s mum always saw to it that her brother’s family had nice rooms when they visited.

An exhaustive search of all of Pippin’s favorite places in Brandy Hall failed to turn up any sign of the child. By now, Merry was becoming anxious to find Pippin and explain and it was nearing teatime. Frodo suggested that they wait until then because Pippin never missed tea. They would allow the child to have tea and then they would take him aside and Merry would try to set things right.

After tea, quite a few folks were searching for Pippin. The youngster had failed to show up and so now his parents, his older sisters, Merry’s parents, and much of the staff were looking for Pippin. Merry, quite naturally, blamed himself, but Frodo reassured him that with Pippin there could be any number of reasons why the child had missed tea. One which seemed popular among Pippin’s family was that the lad had fallen asleep somewhere and napped through the meal. Saradoc suspected that Pippin was playing and had lost track of time. With all of this in mind, a search began.

For the next several hours everyone searched high and low for Pippin but no one seemed to be able to locate him. Eglantine was becoming more and more frantic with every minute and poor Merry was beside himself with worry. He and Frodo had decided to search some of the lower levels of the smial. Pippin was forbidden from going down into the cellar as were all of the children, but since Pippin often did the very thing that he was told not to do, the cellar seemed a likely place to search.

Merry and Frodo had just entered the far end of the cellar when they heard a banging sound. Confused as to where it might be coming from since the cellar echoed rather badly, they stopped in their tracks and listened. The banging sound came again and they decided that it was coming from an area where Merry’s father stacked the empty wine barrels. Both cousins hurried over to the barrels and Frodo called out, “Pippin? Pippin is that you?”

There was a very muffled shout that could have been almost anyone and a great deal more banging. “Hold on and keep making noise!” Frodo shouted. “We’ll find you!”

Merry was afraid to say anything at all for fear that Pippin might go quiet to avoid any punishment from the dragon. The pounding continued and the two older lads soon located a large barrel lying on its side that was completely out of place among the others. The barrel had obviously fallen off of the stack and rolled into the corner where it now lay. Frodo bent down and examined the lid. “It’s wedged on tight, Merry,” Frodo said. “See if you can find a something we can use to pry it open. Frodo then spoke loudly to the barrel. “Don’t worry, Pippin. We’ll get you out. The lid is stuck and we have to get something to remove it!”

The banging sounded again and Frodo thought he could hear sobs but he wasn’t certain. Also something was making a sloshing sound within the barrel and Frodo feared that some of the wine was still inside along with the child. “Hurry, Merry!” Frodo called out.

Merry returned with a mallet and a pry bar. Before Frodo could offer to help, Merry jammed the bar in between the lid and the side of the barrel and smacked it hard twice with the mallet. There was a popping sound and the lid dropped to the floor. Wine poured out of the barrel and pooled on the floor and a very wet little hobbit lad crawled out of the barrel and stood up. Without thinking, Merry reached over and pulled the wine-soaked child to him and looked into the little, tear-streaked face. “Are you hurt?” Merry asked.

Pippin nodded though there didn’t seem to be a scratch on him and then wrapped his arms around Merry’s neck and held on tightly sobbing. Merry stood, holding the child close to him and looked at Frodo with relief. “It’s all right now, Pip. You’re safe. I’ve got you,” Merry reassured his little cousin.

“How did you find me?” Pippin sniffled between sobs. “I was hiding from you down here so you wouldn’t be angry.”

“Well, we just followed the noise,” Merry said feeling guilty that Pippin had indeed been avoiding him when the little child had got into this mess. “How did you get in there anyway?” Merry looked down and noticed that wine was dripping off of Pippin onto the floor. The child’s clothing was stained a dark, rich, burgundy color. If Frodo and Merry hadn’t known better they might have mistaken it for blood.

“I climbed in to hide like Bilbo did in his story and then,” Pippin paused to take several hitching breaths. “I stepped in the wine so I was going to get out but the barrel rocked and the lid shut on me and everything fell down!” Pippin buried his face in Merry’s shoulder and cried. “I hate wine. It smells funny and it tastes bad too.”

Pippin nodded into Merry’s shoulder. “I feel sick. Poor old Bilbo. I don’t know how he could stand that.”

Frodo smiled. “I don’t believe there was any wine left in Bilbo’s barrel, Pippin.”

“Let’s get you to your folks and let them get you cleaned up,” Merry said gently. “You smell like one of those old gaffers that stagger out of the Ivy Bush late at night, Pip.” Merry grinned. “Come to think of it, I suppose that I smell like wine too now.”

“No, Pip,” Merry said gently. “I’m not angry now. You should be angry with me though because I’ve been lying to you about something.”

“No, it’s a lizard just like you said it was,” Merry said weakly. “I made that up about it being a dragon.”

“I’m hungry,” Pippin said even softer and he didn’t offer anything else. He just held on as Merry carried him up the stairs and presented him to his parents. Eglantine had nearly screamed when she’d seen him thinking that he was indeed covered in blood, but the smell quickly alerted everyone and Frodo hurried to explain about the wine barrel. Esmeralda made a mental note to have Saradoc put a lock on the cellar door the first thing tomorrow. As she stood there next to Eglantine, she breathed a sigh of relief that the wine barrel that Pippin had selected had not been completely full.

“Mama, I’m hungry,” Pippin repeated as he looked up from Merry’s shoulder. Smiling with relief of her own, Eglantine reached over and kissed her little one’s wine coated cheek.

“I can carry him to the bath if you want,” Merry offered, sounding hopeful. He realized how very good it felt to be looking after Pippin again. “I’m already covered with wine now anyway.”

“Thank you, Merry dear,” Eglantine said as she leaned over and kissed Pippin on the forehead.

“I want Mama,” Pippin whispered softly and reached for his mother who took him, still smiling at Merry.

“I suspect he’s had a bit of a scare, Merry dear,” Eglantine smiled. “I’ll take him. You can go ahead and get cleaned up yourself.” She hugged the child to her as she walked from the room leaving Merry to examine his own, wine-stained clothing.

Esmeralda smiled at Merry and said, “Go on, before you get wine all over the smial. I don’t want to have to follow you about with a bucket of water and scrub brush, dearest.”

Merry looked off in the direction that Eglantine had taken Pippin, ignoring his mother’s jest and Esmeralda frowned, wondering what might be wrong. Stepping in as he so often did, Frodo put an arm around Merry’s shoulders. “Come on, Merry-lad,” Frodo said. “I’ll go along with you and keep you company while you clean up. From the look of you, it’s going to take some time.”

“He’s never done that before, Frodo,” Merry objected looking at his older cousin as the two of them sat beneath a large tree in front of Brandy Hall. They had both cleaned up after the incident with Pippin and the wine barrel and had eaten a late dinner. Now, they sat outside in the dark looking at the stars.

“I suppose that his feelings were hurt, Merry,” Frodo said gently. “You did lie to him and you managed to frighten him as well. It may take him a while to forgive you.”

“It never has before,” Merry objected. “I’ve teased him and pulled pranks on him lots of times but he always forgives me. He’s never wanted anyone else to take him when I was holding him. Even when he was a baby he wouldn’t go to anyone else if I had him.”

“You’re forgetting something,” Frodo sighed rubbing Merry’s shoulder as he spoke.

“Pippin is older now,” Frodo said. “As you have pointed out to all of us time and again, he is a very clever little lad. I’m afraid that he is old enough to know exactly why you tricked him and I suspect that is why this time is different.” Frodo paused and when Merry didn’t reply he continued. “When Pippin was a baby he didn’t understand what was being said all of the time. You could get away with more because he didn’t know what you were saying. Later, because he is so trusting, you could talk your way out of what had been done. Now, you may have your hands full, Meriadoc.”

“He doesn’t listen when I tell him that he can’t play or that he can’t come with me,” Merry objected. “Why is he suddenly listening when I insult him?”

“He listens to all of it, Merry,” Frodo smiled. “He doesn’t always do what you tell him to do but he listens. I think that sometimes his desire to trail after you overshadows the fact that he knows you don’t want him to do so. At this moment, I fear you have a choice.”

“You have to decide what you mean to do now,” Frodo said. “Pippin knows the truth of things and so you don’t have to explain further. He won’t be frightened any more. What you have to decide is if you want to try and regain his friendship or not.”

“You know perfectly well that the child adores you,” Frodo sighed. “He follows you because he wants to be your friend and because he sees you as his protector and his older cousin who can do anything. Merry, Pippin loves you dearly and it is a big responsibility. You treated me the very same way and sometimes you still do.”

Merry looked down at the ground and pulled up a few blades of grass. He pretended to study them as if he found them fascinating. “You said I had a choice,” Merry said in a low voice that Frodo could just hear.

“If you leave things as they are, Pippin will be hurt but he will get over it,” Frodo said. “He will stop trailing after you and he may even attach himself to one of the other older lads or simply play with the little ones his own age. He won’t be afraid of you and he won’t bother you.” Frodo looked at Merry and saw the surprise on the younger hobbit’s face.

“I don’t know,” Frodo shrugged. “But if you truly don’t want him around then why does that matter?”

“Well, what if he chooses someone who doesn’t know how much trouble he can get into? What if whoever it is doesn’t look out for him properly or show him how to do things?” Merry objected. “It matters who he chooses. What if whoever he chooses hurts his feelings like I did?” Merry sniffled and wiped at his eyes.

“If you don’t want the responsibility then Pippin will have to choose someone else,” Frodo said. “I know he’s a handful. I’ve had my share of interesting experiences because of him. For the most part, when he’s in your company he’s fearless. He’s too clever for his own good, too curious by far, and he has the oddest ideas about things of any little child I have ever encountered.” Frodo chuckled slightly.

“He’s a Took,” Merry shrugged, smiling. “If I should want to make things right with him, I mean, if I want him following me, then what? I’m not saying that I do, but if I were that daft then what do you suppose I’d have to do?”

“If you want your little shadow back, Merry then you’ll have to apologize to him and you may have to earn his trust again,” Frodo said.

“He knows he can trust me,” Merry objected scowling. “Didn’t I just haul him out of a wine barrel?”

“There is still that little matter of the dragon,” Frodo said. “And the fact that you’ve embarrassed him in front of the other lads.”

“Did you brag at all? You told me that you had spread the story around a bit,” Frodo said.

“Think it through, Merry,” Frodo said gently. “It isn’t an easy thing to be the object of so much hero-worship. It makes you responsible for the other person. Be certain that you want that responsibility.”

“I sort of like it when he looks at me like he’s proud of me all the time,” Merry said. “And sometimes he can be lots of fun to have around.”

“Not with Pippin Took,” Frodo smiled. “It’s all or nothing, Merry. I’m afraid sometimes won’t do with this little hobbit. That is precisely why you have to be certain.”

The room was darker than Pippin liked and so he squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think about it. He wished that he had someone in the room with him at night. Being the only lad in the family wasn’t an easy thing. When he was at home he liked his own little room that was right across the hall from Nell and Pervinca’s room. He could hear them at night and could even visit if he felt like it. Most nights they left the door open and he left his open too. It was friendly. Besides, his little room wasn’t in a big, dark, scary old smial like Brandy Hall.

Pippin liked Brandy Hall in the daytime. There were lots of places to hide and lots of things to do. There were huge mathom rooms to explore and there was always someone about to play with. Nighttime was a completely different story. At night there were creaking noises and it was dark and if he had to go to the privy it was a long way down a long dark hall. He squeezed Errol tightly and buried his face in the rabbit’s fur. “It’s all right, Errol,” he whispered. “We can be brave and sleep on our own. We don’t need that nasty old Merry and we aren’t going to bother Nelly or Pearl tonight.”

Outside in the dark hallway Merry leaned against the wall next to Pippin’s door and listened to his little cousin talk to the rabbit. Merry had made up his mind just like Frodo had told him to but it was very hard to begin. What if Pippin wouldn’t forgive him? Maybe that was why Merry had decided to come to the child’s room at night. Pippin was likely to want company at night and he might be in a more forgiving mood. In the morning at breakfast surrounded by plenty of playmates and with a full table of food, Pippin was less likely to need him.

“If Merry doesn’t like us then we don’t care,” Pippin said. “I knew that was a silly old lizard. I knew it was all the time.” In truth he hadn’t known but for some reason when Merry and Frodo had come to rescue him from the wine barrel he had just figured it out. He didn’t think that he’d ever seen a lizard up close before but he had seen them hurrying up and over rocks near his family’s farm. He knew that the lizards made his sister Pervinca scream but he’d never studied one before. With sisters, a lad couldn’t keep a lizard in a bowl in his room.

Merry smiled to himself as Pippin lied to the rabbit. He supposed that Pippin might have known the truth of things on some level but the child hadn’t been certain until Merry had confirmed it for him. Pippin had been too frightened and this fact made Merry feel guilty all over again.

“I know more about dragons than Merry knows,” Pippin continued. “I listen to all of Bilbo’s stories and I know about dragons.” Pippin fell silent for a minute. “Tomorrow you and me are going to go outside and look for our own lizard to scare Merry with. We’ll find a great big lizard and then will make some wings out of parchment and we’ll teach our lizard to bite.”

Pippin let out a long sigh and whispered loudly to the rabbit, “Errol, don’t tell anyone but I miss Merry anyway.”

Merry was certain that he could hear crying now and he made up his mind once and for all. If asked exactly when he had decided to take care of his little cousin, Merry would have said that this had been the exact moment. There was no more doubt in Merry’s mind. Pippin was his responsibility now. Pippin, in spite of the age difference, was now Merry’s friend. He moved over and stepped into Pippin’s doorway and said, “Pippin, can I come in for a minute?”

“Well, it’s rather lonely in my room and I was wondering if maybe you and Errol might want some company,” Merry said quietly.

Pippin sat up and looked toward the door still holding the rabbit in his arms. “Are you teasing me again?” Pippin asked.

“No,” Merry said startled by this question. He should have expected something like it but it did sting a bit. “No, I’m not teasing but if you don’t want me to come in then I’ll go back to my room. I know I haven’t been very nice lately and you’re probably angry with me. You should be. So if you want me to go then I will.”

“You could come in if you want to,” Pippin said after a long silence. “They made it too dark when they put me to bed so you have to be careful. It’s hard to see stuff.”

Relief flooded Merry and he stepped into the room, went over to the other side of the bed and crawled in beside Pippin. The child was still sitting up holding the rabbit and so Merry sat up also. “Thank you, Pippin,” Merry said.

Pippin didn’t reply. He just clutched the rabbit and burrowed down into the blankets. Merry lay down beside him and remained quiet.

Merry thought for a minute. “Sometimes, but not all of the time. You’re just little right now. You’ll out grow being a pest.”

“Pippin, I like you just fine now,” Merry said and before the words were out of his mouth Pippin had flung himself at Merry and was holding on tightly to the older lad. For the moment, Errol the Rabbit was on his own on the other side of the bed. Merry rubbed the little child’s back. “Pippin, you have to try to understand that sometimes I’m not very nice about things. I don’t mean to hurt your feelings but some of the things that I like to do are things that you’re still too little for. You can’t always go with me,” Merry said quietly. “You can’t do all of the things that I can because you’re still too small for some of them.”

“I can keep up,” Pippin said defiantly. “And if you show me how to do all of those things, then I can try really hard and learn them. You know how to do all kinds of stuff, Merry and if you show it to me then I can know it too.”

“I’ll start in the morning,” Merry grinned. “But I’m having breakfast first.”

Pippin snuggled against Merry’s side and retrieved Errol. “I want breakfast too.”

“Pippin,” Merry frowned sniffing the child’s hair. “You still smell like wine.”

The twelve-year-old kicked the bright red beaner straight up into the air and then bumped it with the top of his head as it fell sending it back into the air. He then smacked it with his palm sending it to Merry at the other end of the field. Some of the younger lads looking on clapped and there were shouts from his teammates, all of whom were much older. At the far end of the field, Merry watched the beaner sail toward him and then kicked it over the point line to finish the game. Merry grinned with pride as several of the older lads congratulated Pippin on the amazing pass that had allowed Merry to score. From inside the circle of well-wishers, Pippin grinned and raised a hand to wave at Merry.

Pippin had been right. All Merry had to do was show him how and Pippin would learn it.

“Uh, Merry?” Berilac frowned. He tapped Merry on the shoulder to draw his younger cousin’s attention away from Estella Bolger. “Merry? You might want to have a look at this.” Berilac cleared his throat for emphasis now because Merry was not responding and time appeared to be running out. “Merry!”

“What?” Merry snapped in an annoyed tone as he turned to face Berilac. Just behind Merry, Estella narrowed her eyes also annoyed. Sometimes it wasn’t easy to be the bearer of bad news.

Berilac sighed deeply and pointed off in the direction of the trouble. “I think you might want to do something about that,” Berilac said dryly.

Merry glanced toward the direction in which Berilac was pointing and groaned. “What is he doing now?”

Berilac shrugged. “I don’t know but whatever it is, it seems to be the wrong thing to do. I hated to interrupt you but since you are his official protector I thought you’d want to,” Berilac’s voice trailed off as Merry walked away leaving him behind to contend with Estella Bolger’s angry glare. She put her hands on her hips and watched as Merry strode purposefully across the road and toward the trees just beyond.

Berilac shoved his hands into his pockets and said, “What was I supposed to do? Stand here and let Sancho kill Pippin?”

“That might have been a good idea,” Estella mused. He folded her arms over her chest and looked in the direction that Merry had gone. Berilac followed her gaze.

As he hurried across the road, Merry watched as Pippin raised his fists and prepared to do battle. Merry groaned inwardly as he noted that Pippin had placed his thumbs inside of his fists yet again. How many times had Merry instructed him not to do that? “Pippin, you twit, if you put your thumbs inside of your fists then you’ll break your thumbs when you land a punch!” Merry recalled saying. Obviously it had done no good at all. There Pippin stood with his thumbs inside of his fists, and his feet braced ready to throw a punch at Sancho Proudfoot.

Sancho was almost a head taller than Pippin and probably weighed half again as much but Pippin wasn’t backing down. Stubborn little Took! Pippin danced about as if taking aim and Merry watched as Sancho grinned. Sancho knew perfectly well that Pippin was completely out matched. Berilac knew it. Merry knew it. It seemed that Pippin was the only one that didn’t know it. Wonderful!

“Don’t just stand there, you great oaf!” Pippin shouted as he bobbed and weaved in front of Sancho. “Get your fists up or you’ll have no chance at all!”

Merry was close enough to hear now and what he was hearing was not at all encouraging. Pippin may not be much of a fighter but the lad excelled at launching insults at his opponent.

“I’ll hit you so hard that your teeth will be rattling around in your empty head for the rest of the week!” Pippin declared. He bounced on the balls of his feet and made ready to swing one thin arm back just as Sancho caught sight of Merry coming toward them.

Merry scowled and delivered one of his most withering stares in Sancho’s direction. Then very slowly he raised one fist and punched the air. Sancho’s eyes widened and Pippin announced. “I’ll make you wish you’d never crossed my path! By the time I’m finished with you, your own mum won’t even recognize you!”

Merry had stopped walking and stood watching the color drain from Sancho’s face while Pippin announced, “Don’t make me throw the first punch! I will if you make me, but I want to be fair about this. Go on, take your best shot you over-sized coward!”

Sancho met Merry’s eyes for a minute and then he looked at Pippin. Merry could see just how much Sancho wanted to ‘take his best shot’ as Pippin had instructed him to do. Sancho struggled with the decision for a second more and then Merry heard Pippin say, “Fine! If you’re just going to stand there like a fence post then you leave me no choice!” As Sancho darted a glance back at Merry, Pippin pulled back a fist and punched directly at Sancho’s stomach.

Sancho was still watching Merry when the punch connected. Sancho let out a soft ‘oof’ noise and look down as Pippin groaned and sank to his knees clutching his hand. Merry rolled his eyes skyward then glared at Sancho and started forward quickly. Sancho snorted, “Serves you right, you little ninny!” and then he turned and ran in the opposite direction.

Pippin looked up and shouted, “Run, or you’ll get more of the same!” He was still holding his injured hand against his waist and still down on his knees but he couldn’t resist a parting shot. Sancho hesitated briefly but then hurried on. Sancho was no fool. He knew perfectly well that Merry was still behind him and although Sancho didn’t want Pippin to think that he’d bested him, he wanted to stay far out of Merry Brandybuck’s way just now.

Startled, Pippin leaned his head back and looked up at his older cousin. “Merry, did you see? I just sent Sancho Proudfoot running in pure terror!” Pippin said triumphantly.

“You did, did you?” Merry asked, reaching a hand down and offering it to Pippin.

Pippin grinned and clasped Merry’s out-stretched hand with his uninjured one and allowed Merry to help him to his feet. “I punched him, Merry,” Pippin said breathlessly. “I don’t think he knew what hit him.”

“You almost broke your thumb, didn’t you?” Merry sighed looking down at Pippin’s hand.

“Didn’t you see me punch him?” Pippin wanted to know. He looked up at Merry expectantly. “I pulled back and let him have it and he ran!”

Merry sighed. He didn’t want to do it, but he really should set Pippin straight. After all, his younger cousin had come rather close to getting a beating and the next time Pippin might not be so lucky. Merry wouldn’t always be standing about when trouble struck. He found himself wondering if Berilac would have taken on the job of protector if he had not been there but he pushed that aside and turned his attention back to Pippin. As his father has always reminded him there was no sense in putting off a disagreeable task. You’d only have to face it later. “So you think Sancho ran off because of that punch that you threw?” Merry said looking down at Pippin.

“Well, of course he did. What else could it have been?” Pippin said looking thunder-struck at Merry’s failure to recognize the obvious. “Why until I hit him, he was standing there threatening me. Once he saw that I wasn’t going to take it and that I was actually going to fight back then he ran off like the coward that he is.” Pippin rubbed his thumb and flexed the fingers of his hand as he spoke. “That will teach him a thing or two. I’m stronger than I look.” Pippin straightened up to his full height.

“You’d have to be,” Merry said shaking his head. “You look as if one good wind might blow you away.”

“Pip, you need to face facts before you get yourself killed,” Merry began gently.

“What facts? I won,” Pippin said. “I’m standing here victorious and Sancho Proudfoot is no where to be seen.”

“Pippin, you’re far too clever to actually believe that,” Merry said still trying to be as gentle as possible.

“Well, if he didn’t run because I hit him then why did he run? Explain that if you can,” Pippin said looking annoyed. “You saw the whole thing, didn’t you? Didn’t you?”

“I may have missed the beginning of it,” Merry said. “I was talking to Estella at the time but I do believe that Berilac saw the first portion of the event in question.”

“Then Berilac can tell you that Sancho was rather certain that he had me right where he wanted me,” Pippin said. “He was going to pound me into a bloody pulp or at least that was his plan. He said so, Merry. He looked down at me and he said, ‘I’m going to pound you into a bloody pulp, you little twit.’ That’s exactly what he said, Merry.”

“And then what happened?” Merry asked allowing Pippin to get to it on his own.

“Then I decided to challenge him,” Pippin said proudly. “I stood my ground. He wasn’t expecting that. He thought that I would be intimidated and that he’d not even have to make a fist. He thought that he’d just have to threaten me and then I’d beg for mercy or run away and hide from him. That’s what he was thinking. I know he was. He didn’t say it but I could see it in his beady little eyes, Merry.”

“I could,” Pippin said. “That’s when I knew I had him. I realized that he wasn’t at all prepared to fight. He was only prepared to intimidate. I was about to make him do something that he wasn’t ready to do. Why he never even raised his fists! I gave him every chance but he just stood there looking stupid. Finally, he lost focus and started staring over my head at, at-“ Pippin broke off and his eyes took on an injured look as the realization of exactly what Sancho had been looking at struck him. He looked up at Merry for a minute and then his eyes dropped. “I guess you were what he was looking at weren’t you?” Pippin said softly.

“You scared him off,” Pippin said disappointedly. “I didn’t do anything except injure my thumb did I?”

Pippin was still looking at the ground and Merry felt as if a hand was squeezing his heart. His chest ached and he wished that he hadn’t been forced to tell Pippin the truth. “You stood your ground,” Merry said trying his best to find something positive in it all. “You didn’t know I was coming but you still stood up to him. You were ready to face him on your own.”

“I’m certain he got a good laugh out of that,” Pippin mumbled digging one toe into the soft grass.

Pippin looked up at Merry and frowned. “Impressive?” The skepticism was plain on his face. Pippin was very clever and he was not easily fooled.

“All right,” Merry said, knowing that Pippin had seen through the lie. “You had your elbows out too far to throw a proper punch, you had your thumbs in your fists, and you were bouncing around like a rabbit on a hot rock.”

Pippin squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. “Somewhere in between ‘rather impressive’ and ‘complete idiot’ would have been nice,” Pippin said.

“What I want is for someone to be properly afraid of me,” Pippin said, eyes popping open. “I want someone to look at me and know that I am able to beat them near to death if I so choose. I want to be able to chase someone off just by looking at them hard.” He lowered his voice and said, “Like you just did.”

Pippin glared at him, setting his jaw and narrowing his eyes while clenching his fists at his sides. “Not even now?”

“Why not?” Pippin demanded. “That was a very fierce glare that I just gave you. Why wasn’t it threatening? Didn’t you feel the least bit nervous?”

“Why? Give me one good reason why you didn’t feel nervous or threatened? Go on!”

“I’ll give you three and you won’t like any of them,” Merry said. “You’re too thin, you’ve got no reputation at all for fighting, and anyone who does fight knows that you don’t put your thumbs inside of your fists.”

“I only asked for one reason,” Pippin said. “That’s the trouble with you, Merry. You always have to show off. One reason would have been plenty.”

“Pippin, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings,” Merry said putting a hand on the younger hobbit’s shoulder. “I’m trying to keep you from getting yourself killed. You’ve got more nerve than skill when it comes to fighting. You’re too brave for your own good.”

“I’m brave?” Pippin looked startled by this. It was something that sounded rather positive and he wasn’t expecting that.

“What would you call standing up to someone that is twice your size?” Merry asked.

“Well, it might not be the brightest decision that you’ve made all day, but it was brave in its own way,” Merry said. “You had to realize that Sancho was going to beat you senseless but you didn’t let that scare you. You refused to be intimidated. You didn’t let the fact that Sancho Proudfoot is twice your size and as mean as a bull in full charge stop you. You raised your incorrectly fisted hands and stood your ground.”

“You’ve made your point about my fists all ready,” Pippin said embarrassed.

“The point is, you’re not much of a fighter, Pip,” Merry said gently. “You’re good at plenty of things but fighting just isn’t one of them.”

“I’ll grow into it!” Pippin declared. “I’ve grown quite a lot already.”

“I have! I’m two inches taller than I was last year and I’ve gained a bit of weight as well,” Pippin said patting a hand against his stomach.

“If you’ve put on any extra weight then it must be hiding,” Merry smiled. “The trouble here is, you’ve got taller and so the weight that you’ve gained has more area to cover.”

“So you’ve noticed that I’m taller!” Pippin said smiling in spite of himself.

“I may have noticed,” Merry said smiling back. “But you could do with a couple more inches and quite a few more pounds before you try to beat up Sancho Proudfoot.”

“I’m working on it,” Pippin said testily. “I eat every chance that I get.”

“Never turn down a meal,” Merry said. “Not only is it rude but it’s wasteful.”

“I will,” Pippin said. “I’m twenty now but by next year if I eat properly and work on getting stronger then I’ll be able to beat the snot out of him. I’ll be twenty-one and he’ll see a big difference. I’ll hammer him!”

“I probably won’t, will I?” Pippin sighed. “I’m always going to be completely worthless aren’t I?”

“You aren’t worthless,” Merry said. “You just aren’t a fighter. It isn’t one of the things you do well.”

“You are the best tree-climber in the Shire. You’re brave. You’re a good dancer. You’ve got excellent aim with a stone. You play beaner quite well. And,” Merry paused for effect. “You get into and out of more trouble than anyone I know.”

“You asked me what it was that you do well,” Merry smiled. “You didn’t say that all of it had to be impressive.”

Pippin glanced over across the road. “Estella Bolger and Berilac are staring at us.”

“I was over there talking to them when you decided to take on Sancho,” Merry said remembering how well his conversation with Estella had been progressing until Berilac had interrupted it.

“You mean you were over there flirting with Estella when I got into a fight with Sancho,” Pippin corrected.

“Was it going at all well?” Pippin asked looking over at Estella in the distance. “She seems a wee bit put out just now.”

“It was going fairly well I suppose,” Merry frowned. “It’s difficult to tell sometimes. Lasses don’t always let you know if you’re impressing them or not.”

“He was with me when we ran into Estella,” Merry said. “If he hadn’t been, then Sancho would have got a chance to pound you into a bloody pulp. Berilac was bored with my conversation with Estella and he was the one that saw you.”

“You mean to say that Berilac told you that I might need a wee bit of help?” Pippin looked surprised.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Pip?” Merry sighed. “He likes you. He just doesn’t want you to know that he likes you.”

Pippin scowled at Merry. “I am not a pest.” He looked toward Estella and Berilac again. “Estella doesn’t like me.”

“I don’t want her to get used to me,” Pippin said still scowling. “I don’t like her.”

“I like her so maybe you should try to get used to her,” Merry smiled. “She’s round in all the right places and she has nice eyes.”

Pippin wrinkled up his nose. “You’re going all soft on her, aren’t you?”

“It’s better than spending my time trying to get myself beaten to a bloody pulp,” Merry said with a wink.

“Somehow, I think getting beat to a bloody pulp would cause me less pain than spending time making calf eyes at Estella Bolger,” Pippin said. He crossed his eyes and batted his lashes at Merry.

“You entertain yourself in your way, and I’ll entertain myself in my way,” Merry said only slightly annoyed. “Just remember to keep your thumbs on the outside of your fists. Oh, and it might not be a bad idea if you were to learn to duck.”

Merry glanced at the look on Estella’s face and sighed. “I’ll win her over. You just watch and see. I’ll have that lass eating out of my hand.”

Pippin groaned. “Well, don’t expect me to stick around and watch that happen.”

“Before you know it you’ll be trying to catch the attention of some lass yourself, Peregrin Took,” Merry grinned. “You’re twenty and before you know it you’ll be twenty-five. Some lass will smile at you and you’ll be tripping all over yourself to impress her.”

“Well, one thing is certain,” Pippin said. “That lass will not be Estella Bolger.”

Pippin grinned. “I’d rather let Sancho Proudfoot pound me into a bloody pulp.”

“If I had allowed him to do that, I’d not be getting that nasty glare from Estella now,” Merry said. “I might just be holding her hand and getting a kiss or two.”

“Oh, then I actually saved you,” Pippin teased. He straightened up and looked important. “You should thank me, Merry. You came very close to being in some serious trouble today. If it weren’t for the fact that I was looking out for you, you might be in Estella’s clutches even now. I think you owe me your undying gratitude.”

“What I owe you is a good, swift kick in the seat of the trousers,” Merry snorted.

“That is something for which I am very grateful,” Merry said sarcastically. “Now if you can manage to stay out of trouble for a while I am going back across the road and see if I can interest Estella Bolger in a bit of hand holding.” Merry turned and started across the road.

“From the look of her, I’d say you’d better be able to dodge a well-thrown punch,” Pippin called out.

Merry didn’t reply. He just kept walking. With Tooks it was best to let them have the last word if you wanted the conversation to end. They’d go on forever unless you conceded. Besides, Estella had his full attention now. Pippin would have to manage on his own for a bit. Merry had other more pressing matters.

Pippin sat up in the bed, sleep still clinging to his eyelids and pulled the covers to his chest. There it was again; a loud menacing rumble. It was dark, it was late and outside a battle raged. Pippin shivered as the room filled with bright flashes of light and then almost instantly became dark again. It was so dark that Pippin could not see his shaking hands in front of his face.

Another loud ear-assaulting bang was enough to send Pippin beneath the covers. He pulled the blankets over his head and sat shivering in the dark. When would the battle end? He frowned as a small part of his reasonable mind returned to him and he realized that the battle had ended. It had ended weeks ago in fact. He was in Minas Tirith now and in spite of the way things sounded at present, peace had come again to Middle earth. Frodo had succeeded in his quest and they had all survived.

Slowly Pippin lowered the blankets and peered out into his room. It was a storm. It was a fierce one to be sure but it was only a storm. As if attempting to assert it’s power over him the storm produced another loud blast of thunder and without realizing that he was doing it Pippin crawled from his bed and with his feet still tangled in his blankets he fell to the floor with a soft thud. Pippin struggled to free his feet and legs from the twisted mass of bed linen that he had dragged off of the bed with him as lightening filled the room.

By the time the thunder sounded again Pippin was on his feet rubbing his hip where he was certain a large bruise must be about to blossom. The beds in Minas Tirith were uncommonly high off of the floor and all of the floors were made of stone. Pippin winced at his luck. Just when most of him had finally turned a proper color again he could now expect a blackish purplish mark to form on his hip. Most of his bruises from his unfortunate adventure in troll-slaying had faded but now he was to have a new one from a fall out of bed. Brilliant, Pippin!

Another loud crack of thunder convinced Pippin that he needed to seek distraction. The storm was making him entirely too jumpy. He felt as if he were under attack. Flashes of memory filtered through his mind and brought back terrible images of Minas Tirith wreathed in smoke with everything burning and everyone shouting and running and fighting. As lightening filled the too-large room again, Pippin spotted his trousers on the floor where he had discarded them and he snatched them up and hurried from his room into the common sitting room that the hobbits shared. The big folk of Gondor, in an effort to make the hobbits comfortable, had given them far too much space in which to roam about. Pippin would have been happier if they had all been crowded into one little room but the people of Minas Tirith sought to show the hobbits their respect and gratitude. They wanted to give their honored heroes all the comforts that they might expect in a foreign land.

The parlor into which Pippin had fled was too large also but the homes of men had to be large. One didn’t call them ‘The Big Folk’ for no reason after all. They were all uncommonly large. Pippin looked about the huge room and spotted the glowing embers in the fireplace. Pulling his trousers on as he went Pippin made his way over to the small fire and stood next to it. It was strange that he was drawn to the fire when fire was the very thing that had filled his unpleasant thoughts earlier. Still, this was a hearth fire and it held memories of family and friends and warmth from cold winds. It was neither a battle fire nor a funeral pyre like the one that Lord Denethor chose to build.

Pippin shivered again and the thunder cracked yet again sending Pippin running from the room and into Merry’s room. Without giving it a thought, completely by habit, Pippin charged into Merry room and was standing beside of his cousin’s bed before he managed to stop himself. He’d been inches away from climbing into the bed and pulling the covers over his head. He stood like a statue next to Merry’s bed now, the great feather mattress pressed against his chest and his hands fisted at his side. He was holding his breath and he stood staring at Merry’s back watching the rise and fall of his older cousin’s even, peaceful breathing.

“Something you wanted?” Merry asked quietly not bothering to turn and face Pippin.

Pippin didn’t answer. He just stood there trying not to make a sound. Maybe Merry hadn’t actually seen him. Maybe Merry didn’t really know it was him. Maybe Merry was talking in his sleep.

A loud crack of thunder sounded at that moment and Pippin’s breath became ragged and he reached up and clutched the bed sheets with his hands and squeezed his eyes shut. Merry turned over slowly and when the lightening swept through the room he saw Pippin’s pale face. “Pippin, get into the bed,” Merry said gently.

“I’m fine,” Pippin said stubbornly though nothing could have been further from the truth. He was frightened half out of his wits and embarrassed beyond words, which, for a Took, was very embarrassed indeed.

“Pippin, please get into the bed,” Merry said gently. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Another loud bang of thunder sounded at that moment and as if propelled by a catapult, Pippin leaped into the bed and flung himself beneath the covers. Merry wouldn’t have thought Pippin capable of moving that fast since he knew that Pippin was still healing from his battle injuries but Pippin had sailed into the bed as if he’d had wings. Merry felt Pippin’s shaking form inch close to him and he put his arm around his cousin and said, “It’s only a storm, Pip. It’ll be gone before you know it.”

Pippin shook slightly and mumbled, “Some brave Knight of Gondor I’ve turn out to be.” Then in a very tiny voice just above a hoarse whisper Pippin said, “Did I wake you?”

“No, I heard the storm,” Merry lied, smiling slightly in the darkness. The sound of Pippin’s feet racing across the stone floor had been what had actually disturbed his sleep but he thought it best not to say so.

“Well, at least I haven’t gone and spoiled a good night’s rest for you,” Pippin said in a nervous whisper.

“No,” Merry agreed patting Pippin’s shoulder and feeling his younger cousin tense as another round of thunder and lightening ensued. “It’s quite a storm.”

“What’s your point?” Merry asked jokingly in the hopes of lifting Pippin’s mood.

“I can’t be afraid of storms. I’m too old for that at least,” Pippin sighed sounding very frustrated. He reached up with one hand and tugged at his short curls.

Merry chuckled softly. “You are never too old to be frightened. Everyone is frightened of something. I’m afraid that if you keep pulling your hair that way it will all fall out. You can’t stretch it and make it longer you know.”

“It feels unnatural this short,” Pippin said. “My ears show and the back of my neck gets cold.”

“It will grow,” Merry said firmly. “They didn’t have any choice but to cut it. It was rather full of dried, smelly troll’s blood from what I’ve heard. I’m told troll’s blood isn’t at all easy to wash out of hair. It’s sticky and foul smelling. Frankly I suspect that if it had been anyone else save you, they’d have cut it all off. Be very thankful that you don’t look like a peeled onion about now, Peregrin.”

“I’m thankful,” Pippin sighed though he didn’t sound as if he were. “I know full well that they were far too busy putting me back together to worry over-long about my curls but it still feels unnatural.” Another blast of thunder made Pippin go quiet and Merry could feel him shaking.

“Well, you know there is an old wives’ tale that says your hair grows while you sleep,” Merry said. “Perhaps if you would sleep more and run about the room less your hair would grow faster.”

“I did wake you!” Pippin said embarrassed. “Oh, Merry, I’m sorry. I never meant to come in here. I don’t know why I did. I got up and went into the parlor. All I meant to do was to distract myself from the storm until it was over but the thunder was so loud and I was in here before I knew where I was going.”

“It’s all right,” Merry said gently. “I’m quite used to you turning up during storms. I will admit that over the past few years you haven’t turned up nearly as often but I haven’t forgotten.”

“No, I suspect you haven’t,” Pippin sighed, his voice filled with regret. “I suspect that you wonder if I shall ever out-grow this madding fear of storms so that you can sleep in peace. I suspect that you wonder when I plan to act my age. I worry about that last one myself sometimes.”

“You shouldn’t worry about that,” Merry said. “I’ve worried that you’ve been forced to act much older than you truly are during all of this. The war has taken what was left of your childhood and I fear that there is no way for any of us to bring that back. We are all much older than we look now.” Merry’s voice was calm but there was a sadness to it that ran deep.

“I don’t feel old just now,” Pippin said. “I feel foolish and small for coming in here and waking you and for wishing that you could make the storm go away.”

Merry grinned. “When you were very little you would come flying into my room and throw yourself into my bed and cover your ears with your hands. You’d say, ‘Make it stop, Merry. Make the storm be gone.’ And I’d feel brave and important.”

“You would?” Pippin asked ignoring the fading sound of thunder that came at the end of Merry’s words.

“I would,” Merry laughed. “I’d fancy myself as grand enough and powerful enough to do what no hobbit could ever do; drive away storms. On those nights I always felt like I could slay dragons and climb mountains.”

“Why?” Pippin asked pulling the blankets away from his face and looking up at Merry.

“Because you believed that I could,” Merry said. “You trusted me to watch over you. You were little and frightened and I was your protector of choice. You didn’t go in search of your father or mine. You weren’t looking for Frodo or any of your sisters. I was the one that you relied upon to do this impossible deed.”

Lightening played about the edges of the room and Pippin’s green eyes flashed with the light as he looked over at Merry who was now sitting up propped against a pillow on the bed. Pippin lay there on his back and said, “Some of those others might do for lesser things but you were the only one who could stop the storms.”

Merry chuckled. “If I have an ego problem then you are largely to blame. No one else considers me to be that important or that powerful.”

“They don’t know you like I do,” Pippin said as the rain pelted down outside. “Listen.”

“It’s stopped,” Pippin said smiling with a trace of childish wonder in his eyes.

The rain was pounding hard against the stone streets outside but there was no sound of thunder. Merry listened closely and Pippin said, “You did it again. You stopped the storm.”

“You’re barking mad,” Merry said gently. “And you know full well that the storm simply passed while we were talking, don’t you?”

“Merry, don’t spoil this,” Pippin warned firmly. “This quest that we’ve been on and the dangers that we’ve faced have taken more than a few of my childhood notions but I’m keeping the one in which you protect me from storms for a bit longer. I think I’m going to need it. Storms sound like too many other terrible things now. You will have to keep on holding them at bay for a while longer.”

“Very well,” Merry said. “I will continue to force storms back into the clouds but don’t be surprised if I become rather self-important because of it all.”

Pippin turned over and fluffed his pillow and lay down. “What do you mean, become? You’ve always been self-important.” He yawned and settled in for the night.

“At least my hair will grow back,” Pippin replied with another yawn. “But when it does and I am handsome again you will still be self-important.”

Merry draped an arm over Pippin and sighed, “I suppose that when you are powerful enough to stop thunder storms like I am, you have to expect others to be jealous from time to time.”

This story is all dialogue and features Merry and Pippin. It was originally posted to my Live Journal so you may have seen it before. I hadn't planned to put anything else in this group of stories but this one just seems to fit here and so here it is. The story that follows it has been here a while but it is the perfect ending to the series so I put this one in front of it. Confusing? Probably, but that's how I roll. GW

“But didn’t you say that you wanted to try and make a start for Bag End before dark?”

“Did I? Well, I guess I might have said that but I’ve changed my mind. Sometimes I do that, Merry.”

“Well, then why didn’t you come back inside and help us finish that lovely apple crumb cake that Fredegar made?”

“No, not now. There was when you came outside, but it’s been gone for at least two hours now.”

“Which brings me to another point. Why have you been sitting out here alone for over two hours?”

“You don’t know everything there is to know about me, Meriadoc. I would spend a great deal more time alone if I were given the chance. I can’t help it that I am constantly surrounded by friends and family. Folks have to be willing to leave you alone before you can spend any time alone and most of the time, like now, someone turns up. If anyone at all is there other than me, then I can’t properly be alone, can I?”

“I’m not at all snippy. You’ve just interrupted me while I was enjoying some time alone. How would you feel if I turned up while you were trying to have some time just for yourself?”

“I’m standing here thinking about it now and I can’t recall a single occasion when you didn’t turn up while I was attempting to spend some time alone. No, I don’t think I can remember too much before I turned eight. It’s been too long ago.”

“It comes naturally to me. We Brandybucks are known for our sparkling conversational skills.”

“Perhaps you’ve spent too much time alone to have heard it. Why don‘t you get up off that bench and come back inside with me? I think you‘ve been alone long enough.”

“I’m fine right here. It’s a very pleasant afternoon and I’m enjoying myself. You go on back inside and entertain the others with your sparkling conversational skills. I wouldn’t want to be the only one privy to them. That would be unfair to the everyone else.”

“Don’t you think it’s getting a bit chilly out here or is that just the feeling I’m getting from being so near your frosty personality?”

“I’m not the least bit cold. I think it’s lovely weather. That is exactly why I decided to sit down out here on this bench. I wanted a chance to enjoy this fine, fall afternoon. It won‘t be long until winter arrives and then, we shall all be staying inside close to the hearth.”

“It seems to be a bit cold. I’m wearing my jacket and I can still feel the wind now and again. You’re sitting there with only that waistcoat to keep you warm. I don’t know how you can be comfortable.”

“If I weren’t comfortable then don’t you think I’d put on a jacket or perhaps come back inside? I’m comfortable.”

“Go back inside if you’re cold. I don’t want to keep you from anything and I wouldn’t want you to get ill. Frodo is expecting you to come to Bag End too. It would be a shame if you turned up ill and gave him a cold.”

“When I arrive at Bag End I will have to remember to tell Frodo how concerned you were for his health. He’ll appreciate that.”

“Just go away, Merry. Leave for Bag End now or go back inside and finish off the raspberry pie, but leave me alone.”

“You were the one that was planning to leave for Bag End this afternoon, not me. I plan to get a night’s rest and then go early tomorrow. Freddy has decided to ride along and he won’t be ready until tomorrow. And, just in case you were thinking of returning to the smial for some of the raspberry pie, I feel it only fair to warn you, I finished that shortly before the apple crumb cake.”

“I didn’t eat the rest of it, I only ate the last piece. Freddy helped. He had four pieces unless I lost count in which case, he may have had more. When it comes to finishing up pastries, there is no better help than Fredegar Bolger.”

“If you aren’t cold then why do you have your arms wrapped about you so that your fingers are underneath your arms?”

“I’ve never noticed it before. I’ve seen you do it when you were cold but I wouldn’t consider it a habit of yours. Is shivering a habit of yours as well?”

“I sit like this when I’m alone. You can’t have noticed it before now because when I’m alone, you aren’t there. And I am not shivering!”

“Then the bench must be rickety because something is causing you to look as if you are shivering.”

“This bench is not rickety. In fact, if you’d been out here several hours ago you would know more about this bench than you obviously do.”

“As I was leaving the Bolger’s, I happened upon Old Mr. Boffin and he told me a thing or two about this very bench. Did you know that he built it?”

“Well, he did. He built this fine, sturdy bench only three weeks ago as a gift for the Bolgers. He was telling me that Mrs. Bolger and Estella had been kind enough to cook for him while his wife was ill. He built this to thank them for their kindness.”

“It’s made from solid walnut, Merry. Every bit of this bench is walnut. There isn’t a single splinter of any other sort of wood in this bench.”

“Now that I look at it more closely I can tell that it is a very solid bench. I misjudged it.”

“You did and you stood there and insulted Mr. Boffin’s work, Merry. It’s very fortunate that he wasn’t here. I’m certain that he would have been very put out with you. He worked long and hard on this bench!”

“Perhaps you should pay him to make one for you. You seem very taken with his work and you certainly seem to be enjoying sitting on the bench. It must be comfortable as well as sturdy.”

“I might have put it on the other side of the smial though. You can’t see the garden from here. You’d have a better view if the bench were facing the garden. All you can see from here is the road.”

“Not everyone wants to sit in the garden and watch the plants grow. You can sit here on this fine, walnut bench and wait for company to arrive or watch them as they leave. If you aren’t particularly fond of your guests then it’s quite enjoyable to watch them leave. You can’t do that if you're looking at the garden.”

“I might want a bench like this one. I could sit on it in front of Brandy Hall and watch you, as you leave.”

“What if I decide to leave by way of the garden? You can’t see the garden from here.”

“I know what it looks like. I’ll just sit here and enjoy imagining you making your way through the tea roses and on past the chrysanthemums. I have an excellent imagination. Most Tooks do, you know.”

“Probably because they spend so much time alone. It’s all some of them have for company. You’re more fortunate than most. You have the pleasure of my company to keep you occupied.”

“I would prefer to imagine you strolling through the garden and maybe even tripping over a tree root and falling face first into the frog pond. You know the one I mean, don’t you?”

“I remember it well. I can’t count the times that I’ve fished you out of that very frog pond. How many times have you fallen into it?”

“Enough so that I considered asking Freddy to fill it in so I wouldn’t have to keep hauling you out of it.”

“The next time I fall into it, I don’t want you to help me in any way. I am perfectly capable of getting out of that frog pond on my own. In fact, the only time that I can recall falling into that damn thing is when you’re with me. The more I think about, the more likely it seems that you may be pushing me or tripping me. I don’t fall into it when you aren’t here.”

“That is because the frog pond is in the garden and we are on the other side of the smial, Meriadoc. Even if you toss me, I doubt that you could land me in the frog pond from here.”

“I might be able to. We’ve never tried that. You’d have to stand up first so I could judge the best angle from which to attempt it.”

“Don’t be daft! You’d never be able to do that. It’s too far and I’m too heavy.”

“And I notice that you aren’t making any effort to get up and prove me wrong.”

“I’m certainly not going to stand up and let you have a go at tossing me into the Bolger’s frog pond! Even if you fell short of the mark, it would still hurt.”

“I’m not the one sitting on a walnut bench shivering in the cold. You’re the one being an arse, Pippin.”

“Did you know that Mr. Boffin let this wood sit in his barn for an entire month before he started work on this bench?”

“I’ve only been out here a few hours. Well, maybe four hours or five, but it seems longer now that you’re here. I think it might only have been three hours. But it most certainly has not been over a month!”

“You have to let the wood age, Meriadoc. You want it to dry properly. It’s important if you want your bench to be sturdy and if you want all of the pieces to fit together correctly. You don’t want gaps between the boards. Mr. Boffin was very clear on that. He told me that there was nothing worse than a poorly built bench. If a bench isn’t properly constructed then folks can wind up sitting on the ground amid a pile of boards.”

“It’s a good thing Mr. Boffin knows so much about construction because if he didn’t, you might be sitting on the ground this very minute. Aren’t you at all worried that you’ll wear the bench out before the Bolgers get to enjoy it?”

“It won’t wear out if I sit on it! It’s sturdy and it’s protected against the weather. He painted it.”

“It’s a lovely shade of blue. He did a fine job on the paint. In fact, he might be a better painter than he is a carpenter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more even coat of paint.”

“No, Estella did that. She wanted it to be blue so it would match the door of the smial since it was going to be sitting so close to the door.”

“It’s a perfect match. Estella has quite the eye for colour. I’ve always thought that she had a very nice sense of colour. This bench goes a long way toward proving my point.”

“Face it, Meriadoc. You think Estella Bolger is good at everything. You’re smitten.”

“I would. You’re smitten. You’re so smitten that it’s disgusting really. You act like a love-sick fool when she’s around. It’s part of the reason that I decided to leave early. I couldn’t sit there in the Bolger’s parlour another second listening to you tell Estella how lovely her eyes are. They’re just eyes, Merry. She has two. One on either side of her nose and from all I can tell there is nothing remarkable about either one of them. I think the left one is higher than the right but you don’t notice that too much if she tilts her head slightly.”

“Her left eye isn’t higher than the right one! I think you must have been looking at her with *your* fool head tilted. She is remarkable in many ways. You’re just too busy sitting out here on this bench to notice. You need to spend more time with Estella and get to know her better. You‘d appreciate her more if you did.”

“You are spending enough time with her for both of us. You can appreciate her. I’ll just sit here.”

“Why don’t you put on your jacket? It’s right there on top of your rucksack which happens to be sitting on the grass right in front of your feet. Lean over, pick up the jacket, and put it on. You’ll feel better.”

“No and it isn’t any of your business, Meriadoc. I’m old enough to decide when to put on my jacket.”

“Very well. I’ll change the subject. We’ll continue to ignore the fact that you’re colder than a bucket of well water in winter. Did you have any of that splendid beer that Freddy was passing around after luncheon?”

“He said that he got that beer from the Golden Perch. I‘d always heard good things about their beer but until today, I don‘t recall ever having been lucky enough to taste it. I enjoyed it so much that I had four mugs full. It really goes down smooth. Did you enjoy it?”

“Let’s talk about something else, Merry. Did I tell you that there are three coats of paint on this bench?”

“You did, but I was just discussing that wonderful beer. I’d love another mug. I could go in right now and get both of us a mug and we could sit there on that beautiful, blue, bench and have a mug of beer together. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“I don’t like to drink alone, Pip. I’ll get us both a mug of beer. I’ll fill them to the brim and we can drink until we empty them. Unless, of course, you’ve already had your fill. Personally, beer, even good beer like the beer from the Golden Perch, just runs right through me. I’ve been to the privy four times in the last four hours. I don’t know how you’ve managed to just sit there all this time without going to the privy even once. My eyes would float right out of my head if I tried that.”

“It’s a long way to the privy from here. If they had put this bench in the garden then if a lad got the need, he could sneak off into the bushes, but out here, well, you can hardly relieve yourself this close to the road. Someone might pass by.”

“Don’t pretend to be innocent. I know that you know, so you might just as well say so and be done with it! How long?”

“I started to suspect it the minute I came out of the smial and saw you sitting here.”

“You weren’t the only one that had a long conversation about that bench, Pip. Estella is very proud of it. You hadn’t been gone any time at all until she started regaling me with the entire history of the bench. Between the information that you’ve given me and my earlier conversation with Estella, I may know more about this bench than Mr. Boffin does and he built it.”

“I didn’t know that you had decided to sit out here. I thought you were on your way to Bag End. That’s where you said you were going when you left. You took your rucksack with you and folks don’t normally take a rucksack if they just mean to go outside and sit down. Usually, if you’ve packed, you’re leaving, not sitting.”

“I’m trying not to but I’ve been holding it in almost as long as you’ve been holding in that beer from the Golden Perch. ”

“Don’t mention beer again or so help me I will unfasten my trousers and take aim! I have very good aim and the pressure is built up the point that the impact might knock you all the way to the Brandywine!”

“That was how it happened. I was fastening my rucksack and making for the barn when all of the sudden I felt this stabbing pain in-”

“Not *that* stabbing pain! A stabbing pain in my foot from stepping on a jagged rock.”

“Very well. You stepped on a jagged stone, felt a stabbing pain in your foot, and-”

“I took off the rucksack and sat down on this bench to see to my foot. I was sitting here rubbing my foot and checking to make certain I wasn’t bleeding, when that odd cousin of Freddy and Estella’s came out of the smial and began going on and on and on about how much she thinks I look like some hobbit from Michel Delving. I have no idea whatsoever who this other hobbit is but she assured me innumerable times that he wasn’t a Took. She just thinks that I look enough like him to be his twin.”

“I didn’t mean you. I meant that poor, ugly, fellow in Michel Delving that looks like a Took but isn‘t one.”

“Fine! She kept talking, very much like you have, while I was sitting here rubbing my foot and wishing that she would go away. Much like I’ve been wishing that you would go away.”

“You’re supposed to stand up until the lass is seated. Why didn’t you stand up or why didn’t she sit down?”

“I’m very glad that she didn’t sit down. That would have been dreadful. She’d still be here if she’d sat down.”

“I do what I can to help, but that doesn’t explain why you didn’t stand up when she came out here.”

“She was right behind me when I came out. She saw me step on the rock. This is all her fault really because she insisted that I remain seated so as not to hurt my foot. Don’t laugh! I have very good manners and I would have stood up as is proper if she hadn‘t insisted that I stay seated. Oh, do stop laughing!”

“Sorry. I let my guard down for a second. I didn’t know that you were planning on blaming this on someone else. I should have known it, but I just wasn’t thinking clearly. Must be all of that beer.”

“That’s about it, really. She droned on and on about this lad in Michel Delving and about how wonderful Freddy’s pie was and how very lovely the weather was and how much she hoped that you and Estella would start keeping company with one another, and how hard it was for her to travel now that her Father had sold their pony cart and-”

“She prattled on until I thought my ears might bleed, Merry. She talked complete rubbish while looking as if she thought that every single word that poured from her eternally open mouth was the most important news in all the Shire!”

“That part about Estella and I keeping company sounds rather interesting to me.”

“That’s because you didn’t have to listen to *her* say it. She has a voice like a squeaky door hinge and she giggles when she talks. It was so boring I’d have fallen asleep if the sound of her voice hadn’t made my teeth hurt. As it was, I was awake for the entire thing. My foot quit hurting and she was still rattling on about what kind of laundry soap works best.”

“I hope you paid attention to that part. It might be information that you can use later.”

“It would have been rude, Merry. He built this bench. How would it have looked if I had just got up the minute he came over? I didn’t want to insult him. I was very glad to see him which is why I asked him to tell me all about the bench. You see, Estella’s cousin, Gladiola didn’t leave until Mr. Boffin turned up and started talking about carpentry. That’s what drove her away.”

“That’s when the very hobbit I needed turned up. The only problem was, she turned up too late to be of any help at all. If she’d have turned up right as I was stepping on the jagged rock, then she could have saved me a miserable afternoon, but as it was, by the time she passed by, it was already too late.”

“Oh, yes. The cute little lass, about six or so, and always has on a hat covered in big, ugly flowers.”

“Estella says that they can’t get her to take off the hat unless she’s going to bed and then they have to insist upon it. Estella says that-”

“Merry, I’d really like to finish telling you this dreadful story. I don’t care what Estella says about anything.”

“I suppose not, although, you might have benefited from the information that she gave me after you’d left today. If you’d been there and heard what she’d said, you wouldn’t be here now.”

“As I was saying, Ivy Bolger passed by on her way down the road and she waved at me. Naturally I waved back. Then she calls out to me and she says, ‘I like the bench. The colour is pretty.’ So I agreed with her. Then she says, ‘I saw Mr. Boffin painting it. Paint sure dries fast, doesn’t it?’ Don’t laugh, Merry! They could have put up a sign or something. They should have let folks know about the wet paint.”

“I should know if it’s dry or not. I’m the one that’s been stuck to this bench in the cold all afternoon! If it weren’t dry, I’d have got up and come inside hours ago. Instead I‘ve had to sit here looking at my jacket but not being able to get up and get it. I can't reach it from my current position. Trust me. The paint is as dry as paint ever gets.”

“Why didn’t you call for help? We were just inside. We’d have heard you eventually.”

“Because I didn’t fancy the idea of all of my Budgeford relatives coming out here to laugh at me for getting myself painted to this bench in front of their smial that‘s why, Merry!”

“I suspect that you’re going to have to take off your trousers in order to get free.”

“I know that! I figured it out the minute I realized that I was painted to the bench! Why do you think I’ve been sitting here all afternoon? Just stop laughing, will you?”

“You might as well go ahead and get it over with while I‘m the only one out here laughing.”

“I might have managed it, if you hadn’t come out here and tormented me with talk of beer. I was doing fairly well.”

“Judging by the way you've been fidgeting, I’m guessing that’s changed. You might want to rethink your plan of waiting until dark. Don’t worry. If you‘re quick, I doubt anyone will see you.”

“I have my back to the parlour window but I can feel several folks looking at us even now. They’ve been there long enough to wonder what we’re talking about. I can always tell when someone is staring at me and they are staring, Merry. I doubt any of them will be moving away from the window any time soon. And Unless I’ve stared to see things that aren't there, several of Estella’s cousins, including the boring Gladiola, are standing over by the road watching us.”

“Well, either you show them your small clothes now or you attempt to wait until dark. I’ll stand in front of you and block the view of the folks by the road but I’m guessing that the folks in the window are going to have a pretty good gander at your bum. I wonder if it looks the same as that hobbit lad’s? You know, the one from Michel Delving?”

“Very funny. Just turn around and try to block me as best you can. I’m unfastening my trousers now and I plan to do this as quickly as possible.”

“Don’t you want me to get a pair of your trousers out of your rucksack first so you’ll have something to put on, once you remove those?”

“I plan to make a full out run for the bushes in the garden the second I’m free from this bench and rid myself of the best beer in the East Farthing as fast as I can.”

“Just make certain that you’re out of my way. I can’t be held accountable if I don’t make it to the bushes.”

“If you don’t make it to the bushes, you can be certain that I will not only hold you accountable, I will make you sorry.”

“Oi! You’ve stepped on my hand! Your foot seems to be fine judging for the speed with which you’re running but I think you’ve broken two of my fingers. And Pippin? The paint must have bled right through your trousers because your small clothes are a lovely shade of blue!”

“Quit admiring my bum and go in the smial! And quit laughing! And tell everyone else to quit laughing! I can hear all of you! I‘ll be here a while. I had six mugs of beer and two cups of tea. Toss my rucksack over closer to the garden so I can find some trousers before I come back inside, *if* I come back inside.”

“For someone that just sprinted across the garden in his small clothes in full sunlight you certainly are bossy! Pip? Pip? I heard a splash. Did you fall into that frog pond again?”

“No, you’ve heard something else this time. That was the sound of relief!”

“And, having learned more than I need to know, I’ll go into the smial now and try to explain to the Bolgers why you’re out here killing all of the flowers in their garden. Or perhaps I will try to explain to them why your trousers are stuck fast to their new bench. Come to think of it, Pip, your trousers look better on the bench than they do on you. My, but this has been entertaining. You'll have to do it again sometime, Pippin.”

***This is the story that I thought I would *never* write. I had no intention of ever taking on this subject until this version of it came to me. Warnings for character death.

It was late or perhaps it was very early. It was all the same really. Pippin didn’t care one way or another. He hadn’t slept well but he doubted that anyone in his position would have done so. The day had been his worst ever. He had not been expecting Merry to die. Being Pippin, he just didn’t think of those things. Oh, he’d noticed how very old Merry was getting but he’d always thought of his dear cousin as being indestructible. Hadn’t Merry been a source of strength to him all of his long life?

Naturally, in Pippin’s mind, Merry would be alive and doing well long after Pippin had gone. The trouble with this line of reasoning was that it had been incorrect. Here Pippin was and Merry had shuffled off beyond the horizon without even saying goodbye.

Pippin had come into their shared rooms to find Merry slumped over in his favourite chair by the window. Pippin hadn’t really thought anything was amiss because Merry often fell asleep sitting up these days. Merry, himself had joked that he actually got more rest in the waking hours than he did at night.

Smiling, Pippin had approached Merry with the idea that he might tease him after waking him for elevenses but Merry had been beyond waking. Pippin sighed and turned over in the bed, restless now.

He felt as if someone were watching him. It was as though someone were in his bedchamber observing him as he slept or tried to sleep. Poor Strider had done his very best to console Pippin but it was soon evident that nothing would relieve the poor hobbit’s suffering just now. Strider convinced Pippin to take a sleeping draught and try to sleep. Pippin had agreed reasoning that he would need to be well rested tomorrow for Merry’s wake. He gave up the task of writing a proper eulogy for his cousin and allowed himself to be put to bed.

He realized that he must have slept very soundly for he actually felt quite refreshed. Pippin stirred and opened one eye a crack and that was when he realized that he must still be sleeping. Sitting across from him, on the foot of the bed opposite, was Merry.

“Go away,” Pippin mumbled turning his back on the dream-Merry. It was too painful to be imagining Merry just now. He tried to push the dream from his mind but this was a very stubborn dream.

He heard Merry chuckle. It was that rolling chuckle that would escape Merry from time to time when Pippin had said or done something a bit off kilter. “If I’m not here then how can I go away?”

Pippin made a low growling sound and pulled the blanket over his head. “Why oh why do I have to dream you so very like you were? It’s my dream after all. Why can’t you be a wee bit civil in it?”

“If I’m not dreaming then I will personally leap from that window over there and fly around the city in naught but my skin,” Pippin said irritated.

The dream Merry chuckled again. When the sound of his laughter had faded away it was very quiet for a time.

Pippin finally dared to remove the blankets that covered his head. He turned slowly over to face the spot where dream-Merry had been. He looked at the foot of Merry’s bed. It was empty just as it should have been. Satisfied but disappointed all the same, Pippin turned over on his back and stared up at the high ceiling. He was alone. It had been a dream.

“What are you looking for up there, Pip?” Merry’s voice asked startling him badly.

“Don’t do that,” Pippin said turning to see Merry lying on the bed next to him. “You’ll give me a heart attack.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Merry smiled propping himself up on one elbow and looking over at Pippin.

“Just because you’ve gone and died it doesn’t give you the right to scare me to death,” Pippin objected shuffling back away from dream-Merry. “First you frighten me near out of my wits by dropping dead just before elevenses without so much as a hint that you planned to go and now, just when I’ve got used to you being gone, you turn up and try to kill me.” Pippin frowned at dream-Merry. He rubbed his eyes as if trying to clear his vision. “This is the last time I take any of Strider’s sleeping draughts. The side effects are very jarring.”

“So, I’m a side effect from a healing draught now, am I?” Merry said grinning impishly.

That was when Pippin began to study his dream-cousin more closely. The slightly wicked grin, the bright grey eyes, the full, thick, head of honey coloured curls; he was dreaming of the old Merry, or rather the very young Merry. This was Merry before the Quest, before marriage, and before this final trip to Minas Tirith. Pippin peered at dream-Merry with interest and even a touch of wonder. “You’re looking well for a dead hobbit,” he mused.

“Thank you,” Merry smiled sitting up on the bed and sticking his thumbs into the armpits of his waistcoat. “I feel well.”

“I’m glad,” Pippin said seriously. “You haven’t seemed well in ages. I was a bit worried these last few weeks. Granted, not as worried as I should have been had I known that you planned to die on me. Still, you were starting to nod off during meals and you’d begun to say the oddest things.”

“You always have said the oddest things and so naturally as we grew older and you continued to do so, I didn’t think anything of it,” Merry grinned.

Pippin snorted. It wasn’t at all amusing and yet it was. Well, the mind does play tricks on a hobbit when he gets past a hundred years. Besides, he was asleep and he was also grieving the loss of his dear cousin. He supposed that under the circumstances it might be understandable that he was confused enough to laugh at something so morbid. “Why are you here?” Pippin wanted to know. He sat up in the bed and looked at Merry intently.

“At first I wasn’t certain about that myself, Pippin-lad,” Merry said with a shrug. “I was ready to go on. My old worn out self was slumped over in that chair like an old rag doll and here I was with nothing to keep me. I was ready to make for whatever lies beyond this place. I even started walking. I think I got some distance from here but all of the sudden I noticed that I was coming back again. I thought that I must have got turned around though I can’t say how.”

“You’re lost?” Pippin looked stunned and slightly amused. “You’re never lost. How is it that you can be lost now?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Peregrin,” Merry said, dryly. “It isn’t as if I’ve been here before. As far as I know this is the first time I’ve been dead and I don’t have a map handy.”

“I don’t believe I’ve made it to Over-heaven yet,” dream-Merry said. “I can’t seem to leave Minas Tirith and as nice as it is, it isn’t Over-heaven.”

“There would have to be maps,” Pippin said thoughtfully ignoring Merry for the moment and concentrating on the interesting subject of maps of Over-heaven. Pippin was never especially fond of maps but even he would be interested in one that depicted Over-heaven in all of Its splendour.

“Why would you think that there would be maps?” Merry wanted to know watching his cousin with amusement.

“Well, you’d not be happy in an Over-heaven that didn’t have maps and everyone is supposed to be happy in Over-heaven,” Pippin reasoned. “So, there must be a map.”

“Pip, you are just as daft as I remember you,” dream-Merry sighed shaking his head.

“Well, you can’t have forgotten me so soon,” Pippin said annoyed. “You only left at elevenses yesterday.”

“It does seem that you’ve been gone forever or it did until you turned up in my dreams and decided to torment me,” Pippin said looking a bit sad. “I actually missed you before. A lot.”

Pippin wiped a tear from one eye and Merry changed the topic quickly. He’d seen Pippin cry enough for one day. “At least I was sorry until I saw that you meant to dress me up for my send off in the dreadful teal-coloured waistcoat. I never liked that waistcoat and here I find that you intend to have me spend eternity in it!”

“I gave you that waistcoat!” Pippin spluttered. “When I gave it to you, you said you’d be wanting to save it for a special occasion,” Pippin went on looking angrier by the minute. “You told me that over and over. Every time I suggested that you wear it, you told me that you wanted to wait for exactly the right event. Finally, the last time I suggested that you wear it, you looked at me very seriously and said, “I hope you don’t mind, Pippin but I’ve decided that I want to keep this lovely teal waistcoat so that I might be dressed in it when I die.”

“At the time I thought I’d have a chance to get rid of the thing before I died,” Merry sighed. “I misjudged things slightly.”

“I really don’t like it,” Merry said. “And now, because I didn’t bother to own up to that fact, I suppose I will just have to go through eternity looking like I had no taste whatsoever all because I was trying to avoid looking that way in life.”

“I didn’t want you to sulk,” the dream-Merry said. “I hate it when you sulk.”

“I wouldn’t have sulked!” Pippin objected. “It’s a stylish waistcoat and so it was your loss that you didn’t wear it but I wouldn’t have sulked. Just because I went to the trouble to get you something special only to have you tell me that you thought it was rubbish, I wouldn’t have sulked.”

“I am not,” Pippin said annoyed. He folded his arms over his chest and glared at dream-Merry. Then, suddenly, as Pippin often did, he smiled. “It doesn’t matter now. You’re dead and so you have no say in it. Tomorrow, when they dress you for the wake, if you’re still hanging about, you’ll see how fine you look in that waistcoat and then you’ll change your tune.”

“I refuse to be here for my own wake,” Merry said wrinkling up his nose in distaste. “It’ll be entirely too depressing.”

“I’ll try not to fall apart if that would suit you better,” Pippin said. He was getting used to this conversation that he was having in his sleep and a part of him was beginning to think of this dream version of Merry as if he were the real Merry.

“I’m not worried about you,” dream-Merry grinned. “You’ll be fine. I just don’t want to watch all of my other friends suffer.”

“So, you aren’t at all worried about me but you’re concerned about your other friends?” Pippin looked slightly hurt.

Merry shrugged. “I don’t have to worry about you. You’ve done all of the damage that you’re likely to do. Of course, I’d give a bottle of Buckland’s finest if you hadn’t managed to select my final attire but at least I have the peace of mind of knowing that you did mean well and that you were following my instructions.”

“I’ve planned a speech of sorts for your passing,” Pippin said, crawling out of the bed and walking over to face dream-Merry. “I have it all written out and it’s quite good really.”

“Of course,” Pippin said. “I wanted to give you a proper send off and because I know you best, I felt that I should be the one to speak, if I could.” Pippin wiped at his eye again. “I worked out what I wanted to say partly for something to do. It was odd how thinking about your eulogy occupied my mind so that I didn’t dwell upon my grief too much.”

Merry scratched his head as if trying to puzzle out how a thing like that might work. “Did you say anything nice about me?” Merry wanted to know.

Pippin flushed with pride and rushed over to the little corner desk that he and Merry had shared when Merry had still been alive. He picked up several sheets of paper, cleared his throat in preparation but before he could begin, dream-Merry interrupted him by asking, “You plan to read all of that?” Pippin noticed dream-Merry was looking uncertainly at all of the pages in his hands.

“You’ve written enough there to bore all of Minas Tirith to death,” Merry groaned. “By the time you’ve finished reading that I won’t be the only one in need of a funeral.”

Pippin riffled through the papers. “You haven’t heard it yet and already you’re editing it?”

“I don’t know if I have time to hear it all,” Merry laughed gently. “Seriously, Pip, don’t you think that it’s a bit long?”

“I had a great deal to say,” Pippin said, his eyes betraying him. He looked down at the papers in his hands and sighed. “I’m not terribly talented when it comes to writing things down. Frodo was the one with the talent there. I tend to ramble when I write. I wanted to say what I was feeling and it just spilled out onto the pages.” He looked up at dream-Merry. “Before I realized what I’d done I had filled all of these with ramblings about you.”

Pippin was a bit surprised when dream-Merry walked over and took the pages from his hands and began to glance through them, smiling as he read. Nervous suddenly, Pippin reached for the pages. “You don’t have to read them if you don’t want to,” he said, a tiny part of his mind wondering why he cared if this dream version of Merry read his notes.

“I want to,” Merry said. “I won’t be here for the wake and so I’d like to know what you had planned to say about me.”

“W-where will you be?” Pippin asked placing a hand on Merry’s arm and looking worried.

“I don’t know,” Merry frowned. “It’s as I’ve said. I never seem to get there so I really don’t know where I’m going.” He smiled at Pippin. “Don’t worry. Over-heaven is supposed to be a marvellous place. You’ll like it there.”

“I suppose I shall but I’m not going just now,” Pippin sighed sounding like a small child who was being left behind.

Merry grinned. “Yes, you are. I’m afraid that you won’t get to read your speech at my service, Pip.” Gently, he turned Pippin so that he was looking over towards the bed. “I think I’ve just figured out why I couldn’t leave Minas Tirith.” He pointed at a figure lying peacefully in the bed.

Pippin gasped. “I-I’m over there! How can I be over there and over here at the same time? What kind of foolish dream is this?” Pippin began to slowly move towards the bed, one hand stretched out in front of him as if feeling his way in the dark. It was no longer dark however. The early morning sun was peeking into the windows.

A shaft of light fell across the face of the old hobbit lying in the bed and both Pippin and Merry stared down at him. “I’m smiling,” Pippin whispered.

“You do that sometimes,” Merry said softly. “Sometimes in the night I would wake up and there you’d be, sound asleep with this little smile on your face.”

Pippin reached down and patted the wrinkled hand that was lying on top of the blankets. “I look so old, Merry,” he said sadly.

“I don’t think you ever were old inside, just on the outside,” Merry said. “Maybe that’s why you still smiled in your sleep.”

“I knew you’d come to that realization sooner or later,” Merry said. “It’s a bit of a surprise at first but you do get used to it.”

Pippin looked down at himself on the bed and then back up at Merry. “We have to call someone. Someone has to be notified.” Pippin turned from the bed and walked towards the door to the room. “I have to get Strider.”

Pippin turned and looked at Merry, confusion plain on his now-youthful face. “We can’t just leave me there,” Pippin objected.

“Strider or someone will find you soon, just as you found me,” Merry said evenly.

“You don’t seem to be terribly upset that I’ve just died,” Pippin frowned. “You’ve not even shed a single tear. I cried for hours when you, well, when you decided to leave me.”

“I didn’t decide anything,” Merry objected. “Folks don’t just decide to die. It was my time apparently and so I just died.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you aren’t a tiny bit sorry that I’ve died,” Pippin said clearly annoyed. “Look at me, Merry!” Pippin walked towards the bed, pointing to his old self. “I was too young to die.”

“Pippin, you were a hundred and one! That is not too young for anything,” Merry reasoned rubbing his temples with his fingers and wondering if hobbits were supposed to have headaches once they were deceased!

“You lived to be one hundred and nine,” Pippin frowned. “You were nearly as old as Bilbo Baggins was when he had his famous birthday party and disappeared from the Shire. I was only one hundred and one and just recently at that.”

Merry walked over and joined his cousin by the bed and clasped the old Pippin’s hand in his. “Yes, I suppose it is a wee bit sad. He was a fine, old gentlehobbit and I was proud to be his friend and his cousin. I’m very glad that he didn’t suffer.”

Pippin blinked. “I didn’t feel a thing really. I was too busy being annoyed with you to notice that I’d gone.”

“You look so peaceful,” Merry smiled. Then he looked at Pippin. “To answer your earlier question about why I’m not in tears or terribly sad, that is because even though you’ve died I feel like you’re still here with me as close as ever.” He grinned. “If you hadn’t died then I’d be going to Over-heaven alone and leaving you here but you decided to come along and how can I be sad about that?”

Pippin’s hands fell to his sides and he seemed at a complete loss. “What do we do now?”

“I think that you and I are about to go on another journey together, Cousin,” Merry smiled. “ You just had to follow after me just like you’ve always done.”

“You think that I died on purpose just to keep up with you?” Pippin looked stunned.

Merry shrugged. “You never could stand it when I’d go off and leave you behind. You have always been my shadow, Peregrin Took and it looks as though you are going to follow me right into Over-heaven.”

“Not if we can go together,” Pippin smiled. He turned and caught sight of himself in the mirror. “I’m a lad again!”

“You can’t be more than twenty-five or so,” Merry agreed. “You are the youngest looking old hobbit I’ve seen in some time.”

“Do you suppose that we’re the same age now, finally?” Pippin asked looking hopeful.

“In the Over-heaven, I don’t think age matters,” Merry said patting Pippin on the shoulder. Suddenly they both heard footfalls in the hallway and Merry began to shove Pippin forward. “We have to go now.”

“You don’t want to be here when they find you,” Merry said. “It’s very sad. I was still here when you came and found me. Trust me when I say that you’ll be better off if we leave right now.”

“Where do we go?” Pippin asked. “This most assuredly, as Gandalf might say, is not a hobbit walking party!”

“You’ve never been afraid of heights before. Don’t start now,” Merry said pulling Pippin towards the window as he spoke.

“Just don’t get us lost, Meriadoc,” Pippin warned as they climbed over the windowsill. “I do not want to spend eternity wandering about aimlessly.”

“We’ll be fine this time,” Merry said reassuringly. “I think I know where we go now that we’re together again. Just try to keep up, Peregrin.”

“They looked at peace,” Aragon said smiling sadly at Arwen that evening when the wake was long over. He couldn’t stop thinking about his two dear friends.

“Why did you stop me from dressing Merry in the waistcoat that Pippin had selected?” Aragorn asked.

“And you aren’t going to tell me how you know that, are you?” Aragorn said taking her in his arms.

“I just know,” Arwen smiled leaning her head against his shoulder. For a moment she thought that she heard the sound of laughter and running feet and her heart was light.

Trust a Brandybuck and a Took! by Grey Wonderer