A/N: Pippin is 6, Bilbo is 106

Pippin sat on the bench, his legs dangling high above the ground and his chin planted firmly in his hands. His mouth quivered in a frown, and every so often he raised a hand to surreptitiously dash away the tears that collected in his eyes.

This is the state in which Bilbo found his young cousin as he went to collect a second helping of supper from the nearby enormous table covered with food. He wondered why the lad was here, sitting at an empty table, when all the other children were on the other side of the garden, playing with their new mathoms or talking in small groups.

Bilbo eased himself onto the bench beside Pippin who sat up, sniffling. “Hullo, Bilbo.”

“Hullo, Pippin,” he replied, and soothingly rested a hand on the child’s shoulder. “What is troubling you, my lad?”

Pippin twisted his fingers around the hem of his best waistcoat, a cheery yellow one with green apples embroidered on it. “I don’t know,” he said, though by the tone of his voice Bilbo could tell that Pippin knew exactly what was bothering him.

“Hmm,” Bilbo said, tapping his chin. “Well, perhaps I can help you figure it out. Do your toes hurt?”

Pippin’s fidgeting stilled and he looked up at Bilbo in confusion. “No,” he replied slowly.

“That is good to know,” Bilbo said, nodding thoughtfully. “It is no small matter for a hobbit when his toes are hurt. What about your hair, is it still curling?”

A glimmer of a smile crept into Pippin’s eyes. He reached a hand up, closed his fingers around a curl and tugged at it, feeling it bounce back into shape. “Yes,” he said.

“That’s a relief,” Bilbo said, making a show of withdrawing a handkerchief from his pocket and mopping it across his brow as if he had been truly frightened, much to Pippin’s delight. “I was worried for a moment there. But your ears, my lad…are they still pointed?”

Giggling, Pippin checked both ears. “Yes!” he replied.

“Excellent, excellent.” Bilbo leaned against the table and frowned in thought. “Everything seems to be in working order, Pippin. I can’t imagine why you were feeling sad.”

Immediately Pippin’s smile fell and his lower lip wobbled. Bilbo sincerely hoped that the child would not cry, and was relieved when Pippin spoke instead.

“Mama and Da and Pearl are busy,” he began. It was Pearl’s birthday and Bilbo glanced across the garden to where she and her parents were greeting the guests still filtering into the party.

Pippin continued. “Pimmie and Vinca want me to dance, and Frodo is dancing, and I can’t find Merry anywhere, and everyone else thinks I’m a baby and doesn’t want to play with me.”

“Everyone? Hmm.” Bilbo shrugged. “I don’t think you’re a baby, Pippin.”

“You don’t?” Pippin seemed genuinely surprised. “Even though you’re so-” He stopped suddenly, and clamped his lips together.

“Even though I’m what?” Bilbo asked. Pippin shook his head in wide-eyed terror, and Bilbo laughed. “Even though I’m so old?”

Pippin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Mama says I shouldn’t say things like that,” he pointed out.

“Well I said it, so it’s all right,” Bilbo assured him. “Besides, it is the truth.” He glanced down at his young cousin, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Did you know, Pippin, that I am one hundred years older than you?”

Pippin’s mouth dropped open in shock and he shook his head. “I didn’t think you were that old, Bilbo.”

Bilbo chuckled. “Sometimes I forget it myself,” he confessed. “I suppose you haven’t begun studying the family trees yet. Do you know who was one hundred years older than me?”

Pippin shook his head again.

“The Old Took,” Bilbo replied. “My grandfather.”

Pippin’s mouth was still open, and Bilbo could almost see the thoughts tumbling around the child’s head. “So…the Old Took was two hundred years older than me?” he said at last, glancing up at Bilbo for confirmation.

Bilbo nodded. “Yes: 1190, 1290, 1390 – those are the years of our births. It’s interesting, isn’t it? I think it makes the three of us very special indeed.”

“Special?” Pippin asked, his voice hopeful.

“The Old Took lived to a remarkable age,” Bilbo replied. “I went on an unexpected adventure.” He studied Pippin closely, as if appraising him, and grinned. “I wonder what amazing things you will do.”

A slow smile spread across Pippin’s face as his mind undoubtedly turned to adventures and elves and any number of magical things. Impulsively Pippin hugged Bilbo tight and Bilbo patted his back, pleased that the crisis had been averted with ease. In his experience, however, there was one thing that would help Pippin forget his troubles entirely.

“I was on my way to find more of your mum’s delicious roast chicken and potatoes,” Bilbo said. He stood and extended a hand to Pippin. “But I suppose we might find some of her wonderful blackberry pie as well.”

Slipping his hand into Bilbo’s, Pippin grinned up at him as they collected generous portions of the blackberry pie while the music and laughter of the party continued around them.