Title: Yule at Bag End

Rating: G

Author: Hai Took

Summary: For Marigold’s Challenge #11, to write a hobbity story about a holiday, or a special event or celebration. Frodo is 49, Sam is 35, Merry is 34, and Pippin is 26.

Thanks of Shirebound for the beta job!

“Merry! Come on!” exclaimed Pippin, stalking back to stand next to Merry. He sighed in a martyred kind of way.

“Pip, I need to have a rest,” said Merry, feigning exhaustion and sitting down on the side of the road. “It is much to hard, I don’t think I’ll make it.”

Pippin stood glaring down at him. “Meriadoc Brandybuck, you are nowhere near tired, but if you don’t hurry I’ll just leave you here.”

“Leave me here, will you? Risk our parents finding out that we did in fact separate on our way to Bag End when we just barely get permission for such a venture? I think not,” Merry leaned back on his elbows to regard the tweenager smugly.

This was the first trip they had been permitted to take alone well the first one their parents had agreed to. With Merry just barely coming of age and Pippin still underage, the pair hadn’t been allowed to travel very far alone. Frodo, a distant cousin, or some other relation had always acted as escort. It had been especially difficult to convince their parents of this, their first solo trip, as it was Yule.

“Come on Merry,” said Pippin again, switching from indignation to pleading. “You are ready to see Frodo, aren’t you? You don’t want to keep him waiting and worrying over us do you? For you know he will be in nearly as much of a state over us traveling alone as our parents were when we set out. You want to cause our poor cousin all that stress?”

Merry couldn’t help letting a grin slip. “You are a conniving little beast but, yes, I’m anxious to see Frodo. What are we waiting for?”

With that, the two raced along the road the rest of the way to Bag End. They reached the round green door and stood panting, trying to regain their breath before entering. With a grin, Merry pushed open the door and they went in.

Bag End smelled wonderfully of spices and baking bread, evergreen and mistletoe, the underlying scent of lemon oil and parchment. The smell of the seasons blended with the natural smell of the Smial.

Merry and Pippin moved quietly, trying to locate their dear cousin. They finally happened upon him in one of the spare bedrooms, asleep in a chair by a partially made bed, with a book sitting in his lap.

“All that stress, eh? Waiting and worrying over our arrival is he?” said Merry shaking his head. “I don’t think he cares one way or the other if we are here.”

Pippin bent over and put his mouth right next to Frodo’s ear and blew. Frodo’s eyes flew open and he leapt from the chair. Merry and Pippin dissolved into laughter. “Unfortunately for you, that gets you every time, Frodo!” called Merry.

Frodo looked at them with a scowl, but it melted away and he laughed in delight. “There you rascals are! I had expected you for tea, you know.”

“Merry wouldn’t keep moving,” said Pippin, leaning into Frodo for a quick hug.

“Hey, now that was only when we were trying to get up the hill,” said Merry, also moving in for a hug. “Someone ate all our food and we had to stop and re-supply. I guess it is a good thing we took the road after all.”

“I’m glad you’re here at any rate,” said Frodo leading them from the room. “What do you say we have a bite to eat? I expect you’ll need something to tide you over until dinner.”

They headed to the kitchen, and spend the rest of the afternoon catching up on all the latest news and gossip. There was a polite knock on the kitchen door. “Come in!” called Frodo, and Sam bustled in carrying a basket.

“Good evening,” said Sam. “I thought I would come by a bit early and see if you would be wanting any help with the preparations.”

“Thank you, Sam, but I think most everything is underway; it just needs monitoring,” said Frodo. “But sit down and have a cup of tea.”

Sam smiled at Frodo’s cousins. Since Frodo had moved in, first Merry and then Pippin had been frequent visitors to Bag End. Although he treated these two with more respect in public, they had all been part of a brotherhood for many years now, and treated each other more informally in private and he very much enjoyed their company.

“Are you staying for dinner?” asked Pippin, grinning over at him.

“I believe I will, Mr. Pippin,” said Sam, returning the infectious grin. “As long as I’m welcome.”

“You’re always welcome here, you know that Sam,” said Frodo, rising to stir a pot of boiling potatoes. “Pippin, set the table would you, and mind the china? Merry, if you would pull out the preserves from the pantry? Sam, if you wouldn’t mind making sure the fire is going well in the parlor, I think we will eat in there.”

Soon everyone was sitting down to a nice comfortable feast in the parlor. They ate and laughed their way through the meal. As they finished dessert and the light began to fade, they retired to the sitting room.

“I think,” said Frodo looking around at his dear friends, “that it is time for gifts.”

“Is it?” Pippin jumped up lightly from his place on the floor. “I shall be back shortly then.” He dashed down the hall to where he had deposited his pack before dinner.

Merry rolled his eyes and followed Pippin at a more leisurely pace, but it was clear he was also looking forward to the traditional gift giving. They were soon all gathered together once more. “Well, Pip, I think as the youngest it is your duty to go first.”

Pippin laughed as he handed out his gifts, one each to Frodo, Merry and Sam. He fairly bounced with excitement as he took up his place once more on the floor. As the eldest, Frodo unwrapped his gift first.

“Why, Pip, wherever did you find this?” asked Frodo, holding aloft an ink well that looked to be made of colored, fine-blown glass.

Pippin laughed. “This last spring some Dwarves passed through Tuckborough and I had to get that for you! It reminded me of the one that I broke a couple of years back and I thought you might like a replacement.”

Frodo laughed as well. “It certainly looks like it! Thank you, Pip, for the thought!”

Next to unwrap his gift was Sam. Pippin had spent the last year traveling the Shire and collecting seeds of various types. His Aunt Periwinkle had taken the time to show him how to properly preserve and package the seeds. It made an excellent collection for the young gardener, who was delighted.

Merry received a book on herbs in which he had taken a keen interest in the last year or so, carefully studying and identifying any properties an herb might have to offer. He insisted he was going to write a book on it some day, but there were few who thought he would ever actually finish it.

“Mine, next,” said Merry, carefully handing out each of his gifts.

Frodo carefully unwrapped his gift first. From Merry he received a beautifully and delicately made pipe. Along the stem elvish runes were carved. “’May the stars shine upon your road,’ this is exquisite, Merry!” said Frodo, running reverent fingers over the stem.

Sam received a set of planting pots. Merry and Pippin had been careful in selecting their gifts to Sam as Sam’s Gaffer didn’t rightly like the friendship between them, but would never outright say so as he didn’t want to offend those of high standing. The Gaffer wouldn’t allow things that he thought were above Sam’s station.

Merry gave Pippin a small wooden box that even had a lock and key. There was a picture of distant mountains painted on the top, that kept Pippin fascinated for quite a while.

Sam cleared his throat a bit nervously before handing out his own modest gifts. Frodo received some parchment and a quill that his uncle Halfred had crafted. Merry got a length of well-made rope (“something you might find useful on them boats you are always carrying on about” said Sam). For Pippin, Sam and whittled a whistle in the shape of a bird, which delighted Pippin to no end and dismayed Merry (“I have to travel back with him!”).

Frodo then gently took the gifts he had for each friend and handed them out. Sam as right of age opened his first. “Mr. Frodo, I don’t think-“ started Sam.

“Sam,” interrupted Frodo, “if your Gaffer doesn’t like it you can either keep it here or I can have a word with him.”

Sam smiled up from a beautiful book of elvish tales, complete with elegant pictures. Frodo and been careful in selecting the book and knew it would be forever treasured by Sam besides the Gaffer had yet to deny the Master of Bag End.

Merry opened his gift to find a set of colored chalks and things of that nature. Merry frowned at them slightly and raised skeptical eyes to Frodo’s.

“Merry, you have talent, just let it work,” said Frodo, slightly exasperated. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I’ll try, but you have to keep the terrible jobs that result from all this!” said Merry smiling at the drawing material.

Pippin unwrapped a book. He looked at it puzzled for a moment as he began to turn the pages. “Are these Bilbo’s songs?” he looked up at Frodo, eyes dancing.

Frodo laughed, “Yes, they are; it has taken me nearly two years to get all of those copied down adequately.”

“Thank you, Frodo!” Pippin threw himself into Frodo’s arms, then turned to lean against him to continue flipping through the book of songs.

They continued to talk and laugh the night away. Finally, with a startled gasp, Sam stood up. “It is well past midnight! I had better be getting home!” With a chorus of “goodnights,” and “Happy Yule” to send him on his way, Sam disappeared.

“It’s cold,” said Frodo, closing the door after Sam’s retreating form.

“Do you think it will snow?” asked Pippin, looking out the window at the sky.

“I doubt it.” Frodo locked the door, a peculiar habit he had picked up from Bilbo. “The last good snow Hobbiton had was the year I came to live here. I was missing Brandy Hall and we had planned to go back for the holiday, but I got sick a couple of days before we left. Then it snowed and as soon as I was considered “well” I was allowed to play in it, for a little while.”

“But maybe it will,” said Pippin, still gazing out the window.

“Maybe,” Frodo smiled. “But I think we ought to all go to bed. It is very late and if we want to have a proper breakfast for the first of the year, we had better get up on time.”

Merry yawned, and before any protests could be made Frodo shepherded them down the hall to their guest room.

Frodo really shouldn’t have been surprised when an hour or so before dawn his blankets were pulled up, and all his warmth escaped and cold toes were pressed against his leg. Someone then crawled in from the foot and another body slid in next to him. “What’s this?” he asked, lightly tickling the owner of the cold toes and nudging the other body.

“ ‘S cold, Frodo,” murmured Pippin pressing his cold nose into Frodo’s shoulder. “It’s Merry’s idea.”

“Was not,” Merry defended softly although he yawned. Frodo just smiled at his two unruly cousins before allowing himself to fall back asleep, tucked securely between them.

As was common, Frodo was the first to awaken in the morning. Moving quietly, he quickly got dressed, lit a fire in his room, and proceeded down the hall to the kitchen. He was pulling out a loaf of bread and a couple of eggs when he noticed something out the window. Straightening, he pulled back the curtains to see a world covered in a blanket of undisturbed white.

Frodo laughed aloud. So the snow had come! He ran down the hall to where his cousins still lay and stripped the covers off them, “Up! Come on!”

Merry merely rolled over, but Pippin glared reproachfully up at him, “That’s not nice, Frodo.” He tried to reach for the blankets, but Frodo held them easily out of his reach.

“No, you don’t!” said Frodo, grinning with delight. “I thought you would want to play in the snow?”

Pippin sat bolt upright. “Snow? Really?” When Frodo nodded in confirmation, Pippin pinched Merry. “Come on, Frodo says there is snow! We have to play in it before it all melts!”

Merry sat up, more alert. “How much snow, Frodo? Just a dusting not good for anything?”

“No, Merry, there must be at least a foot! Enough so that everything is covered in it!” Frodo exclaimed.

Merry grinned, and he and Pippin sprang into action trying to get dressed. Frodo went down to a hall closet looking for his warm winter gear. As he and Bilbo had rarely needed more than a normal coat or cloak, it might be difficult to locate the heavier coats, scarves, and mittens.

They were all ready and making their way down the hallway when a quick knock came at the door. Frodo opened it and stepped out into the dazzling white.

“So you’ve seen,” said Sam, who stood grinning on the doorstep, also bundled up a little more than usual.

“Yes, we’ve seen,” said Frodo, laughing just because.

“Sam, Mr. Frodo!” Tom, Rose and Jolly Cotton stood waving at the gate. “Isn’t it wonderful?” called Tom. “I don’t believe I remember a proper snow fall!”

“You probably wouldn’t!” replied Frodo as Merry and Pippin dove past him, both laughing.

The two scuffled and wrestled around a bit in the snow, looking like a couple of pups frolicking. Frodo invited the Cottons up, which they accepted, and soon Marigold Gamgee joined them as well.

Marigold and Rose lay in the snow making fairies. Jolly commented on how the snow would be making traveling difficult by anything other than your own two feet. “Some hobbits put runners on their carts and things that allow them to glide over the snow,” said Frodo. “But I don’t know how far you would want to go in weather like-“ he was cut off as a snowball hit him in the face.

Merry and Pippin broke into peals of laughter where they stood a couple of yards away experimenting with making the snow missiles. Frodo calmly brushed the wet snow from his face then even more calmly bent to retrieve and pack handfuls of snow. Merry and Pippin stopped laughing, although giggles still escaped once in a while.

With care Frodo weighed the ball in his hand, eyeing both of his younger cousins who were watching him warily. Then he quickly threw the ball at Merry who didn’t have time to react.

That was all that was needed for a ruthless war to break out, It was every hobbit for himself as the air filled with the snow missiles. Tom hit his sister, getting the lasses involved, Merry hit Jolly so Jolly returned the favor but missed, hitting Pippin instead. So the day progressed, everyone getting wet and cold.

Eventually they collapsed panting in the snow, cheeks rosy and noses running. “I wish it would snow all the time,” said Pippin, spreading his arms and legs to mimic what the lasses had done earlier, making snow fairies.

“Then it wouldn’t be special,” said Frodo, looking around at each of them.

“Not all year,” said Pippin sitting up. “Just the winter.”

“But the first snow would always be the most special,” said Merry. He began to roll a ball under his hands, and carefully shape it.

“I don’t think I would care for it very often,” said Sam, shaping another ball in his own hands. “Seems it would mess things up in the garden awful bad if it happened all the time, though I guess there are ways to prepare it for such events.”

Leisurely they collected balls of varying sizes and began to fit them together, creating a group of snow hobbits to stand on the front lawn of Bag End. Frodo surveyed the snow hobbits, and on a particularly large one he placed a pointed hat.

He also noticed that Pippin had removed his gloves resulting in red and numb hands, Sam was constantly wiping a running nose, and Marigold and various others had begun to sneeze. “I think it is time for luncheon, as we have played through second breakfast and elevenses and some of us didn’t even eat first breakfast. Come on all, I think we can find room at the kitchen table.”The happy but now exhausted group tramped into the kitchen of Bag End, shedding wet outerwear as they went. Finally they were all seated around the table and enjoying soup and hot chocolate. Frodo looked at each hobbit before him, remembering years before and wondering how anyone could need more than this. Friendship, love and comfort what more could ever be needed?