A/N: Written for Marigold's Challenge #36. My starter was to write a hobbity story that includes any 3rd Anniversary and a flood, a shirt belonging to Pippin made by his mother, and any sort of foraged food. Italicized quotes are from The Fellowship of the Ring, “Lothlórien.” Thank you to Marigold and Llinos for the betas!

The air was chill and the trees overhead blocked the sun, plunging the land beneath into shadow. The Fellowship followed Haldir deeper into the wood until they reached the Silverlode. It was deep and swift and cold, just as Haldir cautioned, and the Company watched as the Elf and one of his kinsmen tied a rope across the river. The hobbits in particular eyed the rope warily, and Merry looked in vain for a boat or ferry to ease their crossing.

“This is how we cross!” said Haldir. “Follow me!” His feet treading lightly, Haldir ran along the rope, crossing the river and then dashing back again to the bank where the Company stood.

Aragorn and Legolas were unsurprised by this method of crossing, but both Boromir and Gimli looked at Haldir with great reluctance. Of the hobbits, only Pippin appeared unmoved by Haldir’s suggestion. Sam seemed badly frightened and while Frodo and Merry were excellent swimmers, they regarded the Silverlode anxiously.

Legolas noted his companions’ trepidation and turned to Haldir. “I can walk this path,” he said, “but the others have not this skill. Must they swim?”

“No!” said Haldir. “We have two more ropes. We will fasten them above the other, one shoulder-high, and another half-high, and holding these the strangers should be able to cross with care.” With that he uncoiled the ropes and tossed an end of each to the Elf standing across the river. Together they tied the grey ropes to the trees, creating the railings for the Company to hold while walking. Then Haldir crossed to the other bank and his brother Rúmil remained behind to usher the Fellowship across the river.

Legolas went first, running lightly across the rope just as Haldir had done. Aragorn loosely held one of the ropes for balance but he, too, crossed the river quickly. Boromir and Gimli were slower, and the hobbits were slowest of all, except for Pippin. He proved the best for he was sure-footed, and he walked over quickly, holding only with one hand; but he kept his eyes on the bank ahead and did not look down.

His cousins seemed unsurprised by Pippin’s swiftness but the others looked upon the hobbit with astonishment. Never had they expected him to walk across the rope with such ease. After Pippin had complained about sleeping in the flet the night before, they had expected him to show some reluctance in crossing the river in this fashion. Haldir said this to Pippin with some measure of surprise when the Company was gathered together on the eastern bank of the Silverlode.

“I normally like climbing trees,” Pippin explained. “Frodo taught me how when I was just a little lad. But the notion of sleeping in one is something I would have to get used to. As for crossing the river – well, I had never before walked across one on a rope bridge, but it seemed that all you needed was a little balance,” he added, grinning.

“You are full of surprises, Pippin,” Boromir noted with a smile.

“Indeed,” Aragorn agreed. “Of the hobbits – nay, of the Company, save perhaps Legolas and myself, you crossed the river with the most ease. I wonder if you have performed a similar feat before?”

Frodo and Merry shared a knowing glance.

“Well,” Pippin began eagerly, but a quick glance at Haldir told him the Elf was growing impatient for them to move on. “I did do something similar once. Maybe I’ll tell you about it later, when we stop again.”

Haldir looked at Pippin with approval before speaking again, this time of blindfolding Gimli. There was an argument and before long, a compromise: the entire Company would wear blindfolds. For the rest of the day they trudged through the forest sightlessly, and even when they stopped to sleep they were not permitted to remove their blindfolds. And so the story Pippin had promised to tell was forgotten for the time being, until a message came the following afternoon from the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim that commanded Haldir to remove everyone’s blindfolds, even Gimli’s.

A halt was called then, and the Company gazed in wonder at all that still thrived in the winter: lush green grass and fragrant flowers, and the mallorn-trees that towered high above. After a time they fell to conversation and Pippin remembered that he had a story to tell.

“Last March,” he began, “was the third anniversary of my father becoming the Thain. It is customary to mark the occasion each year with a feast, and my father also gives a speech about all that has happened in the Shire during the past year. We had also planned to hold the Shire Muster on that day, which is mainly an archery competition and a bit of a ceremony afterwards for the winners. It’s all rather grand, and the Master of Buckland and the Mayor of Hobbiton are always invited, along with all the heads of the families,” he added with a glance to his cousins.

“Usually we have fine weather in the Shire during the spring – some rain, of course, but never as much as we had last March,” Pippin went on. “But we still planned for the anniversary feast, and our guests arrived. Soon the Smials were full to bursting, and still the weather didn’t clear…”

***

“We’ll have to hold the feast in the ballroom,” Paladin said with a sigh of disappointment. His anniversary celebration was the next day, and while the ballroom was quite large and all of their guests would be able to fit – however snugly – it was unfortunate that they could not hold the feast in the gardens as they usually did. Even under Ferumbras the feast had always been held outdoors, even though his anniversary had been in early December. Tents had been erected, and a great bonfire warmed the guests. Spending the day outside was part of the tradition.

But this year, Paladin did not think it would be possible. The daily rains had left the gardens at the Great Smials full of mud and littered with broken branches as the trees were buffeted by the accompanying winds. Even now dark clouds were filling the sky once more, warning them of another impending storm. “The Shire Muster must be postponed as well,” he added. “Until next month, perhaps.”

Beside him Pippin nodded unhappily. He always enjoyed the Shire Muster and was a fair enough archer that two years ago he had even won a prize in his age group. At least his cousins and friends had already arrived and would not miss the feast. “May I help you with anything?” he asked his father.

Paladin smiled and clasped his son’s shoulder. “Not at the moment, Pippin, but thank you. Apart from the weather, everything else is coming along quite well. The tables and decorations are practically ready in the ballroom and the cooks are hard at work on the food. You go and spend some time with your friends. Although,” he added, almost as an afterthought, “sometime this afternoon I would like you to go down to the pantries. Lavender mentioned that they are looking very cluttered.”

Pippin nodded. Lavender was the head cook and as such managed the inventory of the pantries.

“I think we may have to expand the pantries,” Paladin went on. “I would like your opinion on this matter, Pippin.”

From the moment he had become the Thain, Paladin had included Pippin in all his official affairs, asking for his assistance with certain duties and seeking his opinion. Always he listened to Pippin’s thoughts and concerns and when he disagreed with them Paladin was certain to explain why to his son. Although Paladin had been acting as the Thain in all but name in recent years, as Ferumbras’ health had failed, fully assuming the role had been quite an adjustment for him and he had come to rely on Pippin’s help. And yet Paladin knew that his son was still young, and made certain that in spite of the responsibilities he gave him, Pippin still had plenty of time to be a normal tween. For that Pippin was very grateful.

Now Pippin grinned, eager to please his father. “I think I’ll take Merry with me – he mentioned that they have just dug another row of storerooms at Brandy Hall. He might have some ideas.”

“Good lad,” Paladin said with an approving smile. “And now I suppose I must finish my speech,” he added with a reluctant sigh as he reached for his quill.

Pippin wrinkled his nose in sympathy. He would not want to be writing a speech either, not when so many relatives and friends were at the Smials at once – why, even with the foul weather, Pippin still felt that he had a reason to celebrate, with so many people he loved all in one place.

But now as he left his father’s study Pippin headed for the library. A rainy day was all the excuse Frodo and Merry ever needed to curl up with a good book, and they had certainly taken the opportunity the weather had afforded them. Since arriving at the Great Smials they had spent most afternoons in the library – and, much to Pippin’s dismay, they sometimes spent their mornings there too. Pippin enjoyed reading as well – he had always possessed a rather large collection of books, being the youngest and receiving plenty of hand-me-downs from his sisters and other relations – but never would he choose a book for company when he could have a cousin or a friend instead.

Today it took Pippin longer than usual to reach the library, for he discovered that the rain had caused a sizeable flood in one of the small passageways nearby and a cluster of hobbits were just finishing the necessary repairs. Pippin walked another way that took him past the ballroom and he paused for a moment in the doorway, watching as his mother directed the decorating inside. It looked rather festive already, but Pippin still regretted that the feast would not be held outside in the grounds.

Inside the library, Pippin walked past row after row of crowded shelves to the back of the room, where two plump armchairs sat before a large window overlooking the drenched garden. There Frodo and Merry sat engrossed in their books; paying no attention to the foul weather outside.

“Hullo,” Pippin said, perching on the low table between the chairs. He smiled expectantly at his cousins. “Anyone want to come with me to the pantries?”

“Planning a raid, are you?” Frodo asked, amused. He glanced up briefly from his book, a history of the East Road written some eighty years before.

“Goodness, no!” Pippin cried. “This is an official visit. My father wants me to investigate the storage situation there, but I would like some company. I wasn’t about to bother you, dear Cousin Frodo, but I was hoping that Merry would join me.” He turned a pleading gaze on his cousin. It had never failed to work its magic on Merry before.

In spite of trying to hide behind a hefty volume on growing pipeweed in the Southfarthing, Merry once again fell victim to his cousin’s beseeching stare. “Oh, but why me?” he protested half-heartedly, already setting aside his book.

“Because Frodo needs plenty of rest at his advanced age,” Pippin said, grinning as Frodo grumbled something about having enough strength to stand his favourite baby cousin on his head. “Besides, my father is thinking about expanding the pantries and I know Uncle Saradoc just did the same. Maybe you can compare the two and offer some suggestions.”

“Oh, all right,” Merry said, allowing Pippin to drag him to his feet. “See you later, Frodo.”

“If you do happen to manage a raid,” Frodo said, without glancing up from his book. “Please do bring me back one of those blackberry tarts we had at luncheon. They were delightful.”

With a laugh Merry and Pippin left the library and headed along the hall. The pantries at the Great Smials were housed off the main kitchen, and were all on the same level except for the cold storage rooms and the ice room. These were dug deeper into the hill, windowless rooms surrounded by cold, packed earth. But these rooms Merry and Pippin did not venture into, going instead to the pantries that Lavender had spoken of.

They were very full, for the Shire had been blessed with bountiful harvests during the past few years. Only time would tell if the wet weather they had been having would bring forth a bad harvest. The pantries were stuffed with sacks of vegetables and flour and barrels of fruit, and its walls were lined with shelf upon shelf of preserves. Merry and Pippin squeezed their way through, eventually coming to the third pantry. It was smaller than the other two rooms and very crowded.

“We could make it longer,” Pippin said, thinking aloud as he surveyed the room. They could always excavate deeper into the hill, and increase the length of the room. Another idea came to mind. “Or we could even dig another pantry.”

For a long moment Merry thought in silence before nodding. “That’s what we did at the Hall. And you might even put a doorway here,” he said, gesturing one wall, “you could create another tunnel leading back towards the scullery. Then you could access the pantries from two directions.”

“Clever Merry!” Pippin said with a grin. “I knew it was a good idea to bring you along.”

Merry laughed. “I’m glad I proved useful,” he said, heading towards the door. “I think I’ll take another look at the first and second pantries. I wonder if it would be worth the trouble to expand those as well, or just to build a new row of rooms on the other side of the kitchen…” His voice trailed off as he wandered back to the second pantry.

“I’ll be along in a moment,” Pippin replied, smiling after him. This was just the sort of thing that Merry enjoyed planning. However there was still more to this third pantry that Pippin wished to inspect. He liked the idea of another tunnel leading back to the scullery, and thought it would prove quite useful, but he wanted to have all the facts ready when he spoke of it with his father.

Pippin edged his way through a row of barrels to the outside wall of the pantry, but skittered back when his foot encountered something wet. It was another leak, just like the one in the hallway near the library, and Pippin peered up at the ceiling but was unable to discern the source. Following the murky water, he saw it was seeping in through the wall itself.

Quickly he pushed aside some of the barrels and sacks lining the wall. The water began to flow more freely then, and a closer inspection of the wall showed that the lower part of it was buckling under the weight of the water. It looked ready to burst open at any moment and send a flood of water rushing through, and it did, as the bottom of the wall collapsed suddenly before Pippin’s eyes and water crashed into the room, running over the tops of his feet.

“Merry!” he shouted, desperately looking around for something he could use to stop the flow. Not wanting to ruin the food, Pippin was reluctant to pile the sacks and barrels back against the wall. Just then he noticed several large planks of wood leaning against the adjacent wall. They had been placed there so that more shelves could be built to accommodate the growing food supply.

Now Pippin retrieved them and began to fashion a sort of dam around the hole in the wall, keeping the wood in place with barrels and the weights used to measure the fruits and vegetables. When stood on its end, each plank of wood came up to Pippin’s nose, high enough to stop the flow of water. As he worked, the water streamed in quickly, already reaching midway up Pippin’s calf as it filled the room. Barrels and sacks began to lift from the floor, bobbing in the water.

Amidst this Merry appeared at the door, his eyes growing wide as he took in the scene. “Pippin!” he exclaimed, rushing into the room to help.

“Wait!” Pippin said. He was nearly finished with his project and, though it was working well at the moment, Pippin knew that more help was needed. “Run and find some help. I don’t think this wood will hold for long. Don’t worry, I’ll be all right,” he said, meeting Merry’s concerned gaze. “Just hurry!”

Merry hesitated a moment longer before dashing off. While Pippin hoped his cousin would hurry back with plenty of help, at the moment it seemed that he had things fairly under control. Although his clothes were drenched through and covered with filth, the wood was managing to keep most of the ceaseless flood from flowing into the pantry.

Then one of the planks began to wobble, the steady rush of the water keeping it from staying in place. A flash of inspiration had Pippin squeezing past the wood so that he was now between the barricade and the crumbling wall. Then he held the plank in place while still remaining inside. The water continued to flow through the wall, but with Pippin holding the enclosure steady no more of it flooded the room. It rose steadily within the barricade, now reaching above Pippin’s knees, but he was confident that Merry would return with help, and soon.

Pippin was right. Before long Merry rushed in with Tom, Hal, and Andy, three sturdy lads who worked in the stable. By then the wooden boards were beginning to strain under the weight of the water. Pippin would have to find a way to get out from behind the barricade he had built before it collapsed.

“Come on,” Merry said over the roar of the rushing water. “Let’s move these boards aside.”

“No!” Pippin cried. “They’re holding the water back for now. If you move them the whole room will flood and all the food will be destroyed.”

“Better the food than you,” Merry replied sharply. Outside the barrier where he and the other lads stood the water now reached above their knees, but within the enclosure, where Pippin was, the water was already waist deep. “You have to get out of there, Pippin!”

“I will,” Pippin replied. Impulsively he thought of a plan. “If you’ll just hold the wood steady…” Once Merry and the other lads had a firm grip on the boards Pippin lifted himself up on them, balancing on the edge like a cat. Knowing that the enclosure was sturdier at the other end, away from the troublesome board that he had struggled to hold up, Pippin scurried across, never once looking down at the water swirling below. He jumped down with a splash.

“Let’s go now,” Merry said. The barricade still stood, but there was no telling if it would last much longer. Suddenly feeling a little shaky after all the excitement, Pippin followed close behind his cousin, almost disbelieving what he had just done.

They closed the door to the third pantry behind them and bolted it shut, hoping it would keep the water inside until they could find more help. Then they hurried back to the kitchen, arriving at the same time as Paladin with a concerned crowd trailing behind him.

Someone stepped forward with towels and Pippin accepted one gratefully. He was drenched, as were Merry, Tom, Hal and Andy. The five of them huddled together, shivering, as another group of hobbits headed toward the pantries, armed with the necessary tools to mend the damage. Paladin would follow them soon, but now he was too worried about his son and nephew to join them.

“Come along,” he said kindly, slinging his arm around each one. “Let’s get you out of those wet things and into a warm bath. You lads as well,” he added, nodding toward Tom, Hal and Andy, who followed in surprise.

Later, while repairs were underway in the pantry, and once Pippin was warm and clean, Paladin came to speak with his son.

“Merry told me that you wanted to save the food in the third pantry,” Paladin said. “Thanks to your quick-thinking, some of it will be salvaged. It was very considerate of you, Pippin, but I never want you to put yourself in that much danger again. What if the water had begun to flow more quickly than you expected? You might have drowned.”

“I’m sorry,” Pippin said, his eyes downcast. He always hated to disappoint people, especially his parents. “It didn’t seem so dangerous at the time. I only did what I thought was best.”

“I know,” Paladin said, hugging his son close. “It was very brave of you. But I would have rather we lost all the food in every pantry than you,” he added gently.

Pippin smiled and hugged his father in return.

***

“Hmmph.” Gimli smiled as Pippin finished speaking. “Full of surprises indeed, Master Hobbit. I knew that it was something more than Elf magic that eased your crossing of the river.”

“If there was any Elf magic it didn’t help me,” Sam piped up, turning a little green at the edges as he recalled his slow, frightening struggle to cross the river. Now he turned to Pippin in amazement. “What a tale, Mr. Pippin! And weren’t you hurt by the flood or nowt?”

Pippin shook his head. “My clothes were ruined,” he said. “The water was filthy, and I didn’t mind losing the breeches but it was a wrench to see my shirt destroyed. My mother had made it, and it was one of my favourites. Such a cheerful green!” He smiled and looked down at the shirt he was wearing now, made of a soft white fabric and decorated across the front with intricate, delicate embroidery. “She made this one for me as well.”

Before his smile could turn wistful Pippin turned back to Sam’s question. “After the flood we spent a few days foraging for any food that had not been damaged, but we did lose about half of what we had in that pantry. I wonder how the harvest was in the Shire this year, and if the loss of all that food isn’t hurting everyone in the Smials now that it’s the winter.”

Merry put his arm around Pippin’s shoulders. “They’re all right,” he said, quietly reassuring his cousin.

After a moment Pippin turned to him with a hopeful smile but beside them Frodo stood, looking distressed, and wandered away to gaze at the trees as Sam followed close behind. Haldir went over to speak to them and Aragorn, too, disappeared into the wood. The rest of the Fellowship remained behind, resting upon the soft grass as the light of Lothlórien shone upon them, bringing them hope.