“What’s that, Fro?” the child asked, pointing to a strange picture of an unusual creature in the book his older cousin was trying to read.

Frodo looked down at the sketch, then to the small hobbit perched on the arm of his chair. “It’s called a griffin. You’re supposed to be in bed, Pippin,” he said, looking at the lad questioningly. Pippin hadn't stayed properly in bed for even one night since Frodo had arrived for his visit.

“What’s a griffin?”

Frodo gave him a warning look, but Pippin persisted, pouting.

“Oh, all right,” he said, giving in to Pippin’s irresistible green eyes, and allowing him to slide down onto his lap. “A griffin is a beast that is half eagle and half lion. They supposedly once roamed freely with the dragons, but no one has seen one for quite some time.”

“Really?” Pippin questioned, gazing at the picture in awe. “Do you think we’ll see one someday?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps.” Frodo shut the book and lifted his cousin into his arms as he stood up. “Now you need to go back to bed.”

* * *

Pippin woke late the next day to his older sister Pervinca jumping on his bed.

“Pippin, come see what I’ve found!” she exclaimed, not noticing or caring that he’d just opened his eyes.

“What is it, Vinca?” he asked sleepily, yawning suddenly.

“I’ve found an egg and I want you to see it!” she said, dragging her little brother out of bed. “Pearl and Pimmie both said they didn’t care, but I knew you would like it, so I came to get you!”

Pippin stumbled along behind his sister, tripping over his feet, as she dragged him to the parlor.

Vinca lifted a hat off the tea table and shoved it towards him.

Inside was a small brown egg, nestled on top of one of their mother’s best silk handkerchiefs. He reached out to touch it, but Vinca pulled the hat back. “Careful, you might break it,” she said, stroking the egg gently.

Suddenly they heard footsteps down the hall, and Vinca froze. “It’s Frodo! Hide!” she exclaimed, dashing out the other doorway into the hall.

Pippin glanced towards the sound, then dashed after Vinca, who was holding the door to a spare room open, motioning for him to come in.

She quietly shut the door, handing the hat, with egg still miraculously intact, to Pippin.

“Why are we running from Frodo?” Pippin asked, a little too loudly for his sister’s taste.

“Shh!” she hissed. After a moment of silence, in which Vinca had her ear pressed against the door, and Pippin assumed she’d forgotten his question, she relaxed and said, “Because he’ll say we can’t keep it.” She rolled her eyes, and Pippin raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“You want to keep it?” he asked. “You don’t even know what it is yet!” He was a little wary of birds ever since he had been attacked by a mama chicken in their hen house a few weeks earlier.

Vinca nodded. “I do too know what it is!” she stated haughtily. “It’s a baby bird!”

“Well, I knew that,” Pippin retorted. “Is he gone? It’s dark in here, and I want breakfast.”

Vinca listened at the door again and nodded. “Yes, he’s gone. Let’s go.” She turned the handle on the door, but nothing happened.

“Stop teasing Vinca. It’s not funny!” Pippin cried, hoping he didn’t sound too scared. He didn’t want to admit to his sister that he was scared of the dark.

Vinca glared at him and shook the handle again. “I’m not teasing. The handle won’t move!”

He met her gaze, then suddenly they both dashed at the door, banging and yelling for help, the hat left resting gently on a spare cushion left in the room. But no one came. Frodo was long gone, searching for them in another part of the smial.

They kept calling for a few moments more, but still no one came, and they sank back in defeat.

“I’m going to miss breakfast!” Pippin said mournfully. “And Frodo said Merry was coming over later.” Suddenly his face grew pale in the dim light. “What if no one ever finds us and we die in here? Can one die of missing breakfast?”

Vinca rolled her eyes. “We won’t die, Pip. You’re overreacting.”

Pippin sat back, and said no more, but he didn’t think he was overreacting. He thought it was a perfectly legitimate point that they might die if they were stuck in a room without breakfast. He had never missed breakfast before and didn’t know what happened if one went without.

Vinca sat with her ear to the door, seeming to have forgotten the egg entirely. Pippin carefully lifted the hat, and set it in his lap to watch it.

His eyes fell shut moments later, and he was too sleepy to watch any longer.

* * *

Pippin awoke a little while later to a small cheeping sound coming from the hat he held in his lap. He blinked a few times to focus his eyes, then suddenly squeaked.

There was a tiny grey head poking out of a newly made hole in the shell.

“Vinca! He’s hatching!” he called to his sister, who, it appeared, had also dozed off.

“How do you know it’s a he?” she exclaimed, suddenly awake. “I say it’s a she.”

“You say everything is a she,” Pippin said, frowning.

The little bird pushed itself all the way out of its shell, now in pieces beside it, and looked up at Pippin with big black eyes. Pippin gazed back, entranced by the small creature.

Suddenly they heard footsteps outside and Vinca leapt at the door, shouting, “Let us out! Help, please!”

There was a jiggling of the handle from the hobbit outside, and then the locking mechanism was flung loose and the door opened.

“What are you two doing?” Frodo asked, looking at the two questioningly.

Pippin lifted the hat, holding the newborn bird out, and Frodo came to look.

“Where did you find him?” he asked.

“I told you it was a him!” Pippin exclaimed triumphantly, grinning at Vinca. “Vinca found the egg out in the grass and brought him in.”

Frodo examined the tiny bird. “Well, I suppose you two have a new pet, then,” he said with a smile.

“We can keep him!?” Vinca shrieked ecstatically.

“Shh! Yes, if your mother says yes. He’s much too young to be on his own,” Frodo replied. “You’ll need to name him and take good care of him.”

Pippin and Vinca nodded, and Pippin said, “I saw one, Fro!”

Frodo looked confused. “Saw one what?”

“A griffin! I had a dream while we were waiting to be rescued that the egg hatched and it was a griffin!” Pippin exclaimed. “So that’s what I’ll name him. Griffin.”

“I think it’s perfect,” Frodo said, lifting Pippin to his feet.

“It’s my bird too!” Vinca said, following the two of them out of the room.

“Let Pippin name it. You got to find it, so let him name it,” Frodo said.

“Can we have breakfast now?” Pippin asked as they headed out of the room.

“All right, let’s go get you something to eat, and then you can tell Vinca all about the griffins,” Frodo agreed.

~Finis~