Chapter One

“Out of the Shadows”

A/N: An adolescent Pippin is experiencing visions, odd dreams, and precognition, and recalls his father talking about something called the “Tookish Sight”. Unsure of what is happening to him, and fearing it, he begins a journey of self-exploration seeking answers to his questions. He is also entering puberty and encountering a myriad of mixed emotions, erratic moods, and confusion over the numerous changes in his body and his thoughts. The journey promises to reveal a portion of his future as well as an understanding of his past. The idea for this tale is Golden's, and so this is dedicated to her with much gratitude.

********

Smoke…there was smoke. And fire. He struggled to escape but couldn’t make his feet move. Indeed, he felt as rooted to the ground upon which he stood as the great old oak tree in the back pasture. And in a strange way, just as ancient. Ahead, eerie shadows danced barely within his field of vision, painting a picture of dark horror and deceit. He knew someone was there, hidden in the darkness. Waiting. He was utterly helpless, and exposed. He was a captive with no hope of breaking free. A scream rang out, long and terrifying, as a huge burst of flame flashed in front of his eyes...

Pippin jerked awake, scrambling upright in his bed as a great clap of thunder resounded and a piercing arrow of light split the night sky. The sweat, moist upon his body, chilled him as he felt it trail down his back. Raising one shaking hand to wipe his brow he cringed as another bolt fled across the inky horizon. Heart pounding in his chest, he tried to calm himself by drawing several deep breaths and releasing them slowly. The night grew eerily still.

Struggling with his shattered nerves he peered into the darkness, listening…waiting. He cringed and yanked the blanket up over his head as a sudden, brilliant flare danced across the sky, accompanied by another explosion of thunder. He huddled beneath the covers quaking, feeling as if the melee was forcing its way directly through him, piercing him with a surreal, yet physical pain. Disdainful of her young master’s thrashing about, Lily gracefully leaped off the foot of the bed. Tossing a look over her shoulder, the pure white cat padded soundlessly to the door that had been left ajar and used her paw to open it wider. She slithered through the crack and was gone.

He had always hated thunderstorms, but for some reason he was more frightened than usual tonight. He briefly considered creeping into bed with his parents, but dismissed the thought immediately. After all, he was now a lad of almost twenty-four years. If his sisters found out they would tease him unmercifully.

Gradually, the night grew still as the storm moved away at last, its deep rumbling fainter as the minutes passed. Pippin breathed out his relief as he listened in the darkness, willing the storm to pass completely. The hammering of his heart slowed, and he pressed his hand against his chest, closing his eyes. His fear of the storm subsided finally, but his thoughts then turned unbidden to his dream. Pippin shuddered. He didn’t want to think about it, but the memory clung to him like the musty odour of moss on a damp tree. He frowned at his own analogy. He thought he could actually smell the earthy scent. Sighing in defeat, he sat up and threw the blankets off. There would be no more sleep this night.

******

The Harvest Festival was always great fun. It was filled with food and laughter, music and dancing, and deliciously frightening story telling. Pippin chuckled in the warmth of the sunshine while he watched his cousins and other family members preparing for the party. Tonight the farmhouse would be filled with merry-making guests, both young and old, as they celebrated both the Harvest and an important Turning Point that marked the beginning of a new season. He looked up when he heard his name.

“Well, don’t just stand there! Come and help me, Pip.” Merry gestured impatiently in his young cousin’s direction before turning back to the ladder and scurrying up. “Hand me those one by one,” he directed. Pippin hurried over and snatched up an armful of the colourful decorations and stood on the bottom rung handing them up as they were called for. Merry continued stringing them onto the rope attached to the low hanging tree branches.

After they were finished they stood back to admire their handiwork. “I like the paper lanterns,” Pippin exclaimed. “Did you make those?”

Merry nodded. “My mother helped me with them last night.” He pointed at the farmyard and grinned. “They’ll make everything appear suitably eerie tonight. Perfect for the story telling.” Merry winked at him conspiratorially. “And I’ve the perfect frightening tale.”

Pippin chuckled and nodded, but a chill went through him. The mood of last night’s dream persisted like the last stubborn cloud on a sunny day and he mentally pushed the thoughts away. He was determined to have a good time tonight.

“Hullo, Merry, Pippin!” Frodo called and waved as he pulled a waggon load of partygoers up near them. Pippin’s eyes lit up with excitement and he ran over to join them, Merry at his heels. Sam and his young sister Marigold sat next to Frodo. Sam had been pleased beyond words to be included and equally surprised that his father had agreed they could go. He smiled shyly at them.

“Hullo Sam! Hullo Marigold!” Pippin bounced up and down on his toes as he greeted them. “We’re going to have dancing in the barn tonight! And a treasure hunt!”

Sam smiled at the youngster’s enthusiasm as he helped his sister down. Pippin fell quiet for a few moments and his head drooped while he eyed Marigold bashfully from beneath his long lashes. He recovered quickly and started chattering on about everything from the plans for the party games to the food on the menu. Sam listened politely while his sister’s face lit up with delight.

Frodo observed the scene feeling somewhat bemused. Pippin’s chatter was quick; his mood was cheerful as always and his eyes were bright and eager. And yet…something nudged at the back of the elder hobbit’s mind as his young cousin scampered around asking them questions and tugging on Frodo’s shirtsleeve, while offering an opinion about everything. Something felt just a bit off, but Frodo couldn’t quite put a finger on the source of his disquiet. Before he could query Pippin about anything Freddie Bolger arrived behind him bringing his sister and more guests to the celebration. “We’ll talk more later, yes?” Frodo patted his young cousin on the shoulder.

Pippin nodded vigorously in agreement. He ran back to where Merry was now having a rousing discussion with one of the other lads about his superior ability to dunk for apples. Pippin snorted, his dark mood lifting at last and offered his own view on that.

******

Laughter erupted from some of the adults gathered by the huge bonfire as another humorous story came to a conclusion. This one involved a very young Paladin, Milo Chubb, and several Brandybuck cousins. Instead of going fishing, as they had told their parents, they had stolen a rowboat from the riverbank and the lot of them had gone for a dangerous joyride on the Brandywine River. Later, Paladin had tried to soften the reasoning for his mischievous adventure by telling his father the others had insisted he accompany them. And since he’d suffered the humiliation of getting seasick and vomiting over the side of the boat, then having to endure the jeers from his cousins at his lack of tolerance for the swaying boat, he should be excluded from any punishment the rest of them would face.

“Right, Pad!” Milo Chubb raised his drink to his cousin and winked at the others. “And of course, old Adalgrim was in a great hurry to believe that bit of reasoning, eh?” Paladin joined in the laughter as Milo clapped him on the back.

A short distance from the storytelling adults a group of children congregated under the decorative lanterns to start their treasure hunt. Frodo and Freddy were in charge of this activity and were busy passing out the lists to the younger ones, who were pairing up to begin. Frodo handed the last one to Sam, who raised his brow quizzically.

“Now Sam,” Frodo held up a hand to stop the protest before it started. “You must join in the fun too.”

“I’d be more comfortable in helping you to oversee it, Mr Frodo,” Sam mumbled. “Let the little ones have the fun of finding the treasures.”

“Well, I’m not a little one and I intend to play.” Merry drew himself up to his full height, grinning at Estella Bolger. “And I already have a partner.”

Pippin’s face fell at his cousin’s words. He hadn’t thought Merry would choose a lass over him as a partner for the game. Now he didn’t have anyone to play with because he’d assumed he would go with Merry.

Frodo noticed the situation and thought quickly. “Who doesn’t have a partner yet?” Marigold stepped forward. Pippin stared at her, tongue-tied. Sam frowned. Frodo chuckled underneath his breath. What was that old saying about getting two birds with one stone? He smiled at them and gestured. “All right, we’ll have one set of three then. Sam, you’ll help these two find their way, won’t you?”

Sam darted a glance at Rosie Cotton where she stood talking with her brothers underneath the crab apple tree, and sighed softly. Bobbing his head up and down he forced a smile and replied, “Aye, Mr Frodo, I reckon I can do just that.” He gestured at Marigold and Pippin. “Why don’t we be off then?” He pointed towards the barn where the treasure hunt was already beginning.

Pippin refused to allow the change in plans to make him feel bad. After all, treasure hunting with Marigold might be very nice. He liked the way she always wore the scent of roses. He grinned at his two friends. “Let’s go then!” He trotted away with purpose and Marigold followed suit. Sam rolled his eyes skyward and trailed after his charges, leaving Frodo smiling at his back as the group departed.

******

The merrymakers settled in a circle beneath the paper lanterns in the farmyard to await the beginning of the storytelling. Several of the adults were busy making sure the youngest children were kept together, just in case anything was to frighten them. Auntie Pringle busied herself nearby, chattering away with Pepper, her pet raven that perched upon her shoulder. Frodo took a seat on a barrel that he’d placed near the circle, while the others searched for just the right place to sit and be suitably terrified.

Merry plunked down cross-legged next to Estella, wiggling slightly closer and working up the courage to actually place his arm around her shoulders. Fredegar Bolger sat across from them, keeping one eye on Merry’s hands, the other on his sister. Sam escorted Marigold and Pippin to their spot in the circle and then sat between them, causing Pippin to frown and Frodo to chuckle. Marigold was oblivious to the byplay and watched eagerly for some sign the storytelling was about to begin. Sancho Proudfoot sauntered over to them and plopped down next to his friend. He rolled his eyes at Merry’s shameless flirting and nudged Pippin with his elbow, grinning. Pippin chose to ignore him.

A nearly full moon peeked out of the half-clouded sky completing the picture of a perfect setting for telling scary stories. Pippin shivered. As much as he liked to be intentionally frightened by a good spooky tale, the cloud of last night’s dream continued to cast a pall over his enjoyment. He’d very nearly put the nightmare aside when a glimpse into the cloudy sky reminded him of last night’s thunderstorm and brought the memory crashing back to him.

Across the circle, Frodo looked up when his little cousin shuddered. A chill ran through him. He watched as Pippin drew his legs up and hugged himself tightly, and then began to rock back and forth a little. Frodo again pondered the meaning behind Pippin’s obvious unease. He resolved to keep a close eye on the little lad and to pull him aside and speak to him privately just as soon as he had the opportunity.

“Well now!” Paladin clapped his hands together for attention. He smiled at the wide-eyed, smallest children in the group. “And who would like to begin this evening’s telling of spooky tales?”

Several hands waved wildly about in the air. Paladin pointed at Folco Boffin. “All right lad, we’ll start with you.” Paladin took a seat next to his wife while Folco got to his feet and settled in front of the crowd.

Several stories later feeling the gathering was suitably primed for his tale, Merry finally took his turn. He smiled secretively as he turned in a circle to take in each of their faces. Pippin shivered again and moved closer to Sam. “Long ago, a legend was handed down from generation to generation of Hobbits just like ourselves, around a fire much like this. I am going to tell you the story again, only I’m going to tell you what really happened on that night so many years ago, when the ancient trees of the Old Forest rose up during the night and conspired to invade Buckland.”

Chuckles could be heard from the adults and Merry’s parents traded knowing looks. Merry frowned in their direction before turning back to the young ones. “They say it happened on the eve of another Harvest Festival, much like this one. There is much that is unknown about what actually occurred that night,” he told them in a low voice. “But there is also much that is indeed known, although it’s not talked about because it’s so horrible no one wants to think about it.”

The children shivered, each of them enjoying the delicious feeling of being deliberately scared, while still knowing they were safe within their circle of friends and family. Pippin’s shudder of anticipation lasted longer than the others’ and he began to wonder if he really did want to hear this story.

Merry settled on the ground in front of them, enjoying the attention. His voice dropped down low as he began. “Many, many years ago, back when the Shire was young, back before the land that the Brandybucks call home was cleared and settled, before smials were dug or barns built, there lived an old Hobbit named Foster.” Merry paused for effect before continuing. “He was a very lonesome person and kept himself isolated from everyone, living amongst the trees of the forest all alone. No one seems to remember just how he came to be there in the first place.” Merry’s voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s said that he consorted with evil spirits and often wandered the woods all night long, looking for any poor, unsuspecting soul who may have become lost along his way. Then old Foster would capture the Hobbit with the help of the spirit world and haul him back into the Old Forest. According to the legend, this happened to many an unsuspecting lad who was never to be seen or heard from again.”

“What was his last name? Whose family was he related to?” Merimas Brandybuck frowned at his cousin. “I don’t remember ever hearing this part of the tale.”

“We don’t know his last name, Merimas! And that’s really not important to the story anyway.” Merry appeared annoyed.

“Well, if we’re talking about kin and everything, it seems pretty important to me,” Berilac agreed.

Merry scowled at his cousins. “Well, I do know that ‘Foster’ is an old name that means ‘forest guardian’ but I don’t know what this old Hobbit’s last name was! Maybe he was a Brandybuck. Who knows?”

“Well, if he was a Brandybuck then it seems like someone we wouldn’t want to be talking about. I mean, if anyone has a relative like that in their family tree, then…”

“Never mind, all right? Just pretend he wasn’t a Brandybuck then.” Merry sighed in exasperation and tried to continue. “Anyway, old Foster  …”

“But then, maybe he was a Took,” Merimas mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps he…” Merimas fell silent when Merry turned a withering look in his direction.

“Ahem,” Merry cleared his throat and leaned towards his audience. “As I was saying. As Buckland began to grow, with more and more families settling there, it was soon learned that whenever anyone walked near the Old Forest at night he would hear the faint, tortured screams of the lost ones, begging for mercy, or see their shadowy shapes as they too walked just inside the woods, unable to leave there ever again.” Merry sat back and folded his arms, looking around at his listeners. The youngest ones were already scrunching up against the older children and Merry smiled in satisfaction.

“What happened, Merry?” gasped little Gingerblossom Took, clutching her sister Goldenrod’s hand.

Saradoc leaned over to Paladin and whispered, “I’ll wager those Hobbits were simply getting away from the smial after a hard day to toss back a nip or two of good Brandybuck whisky!”

Paladin snickered and nodded. “Aye, no telling just what a lad might see or hear after a good, stiff drink o’ that stuff!”

“Well,” Merry sat back against the barrel that Frodo had been seated on earlier and shook his head. He winked at Frodo, who was now sitting cross-legged not far from his right. “Over the years more Hobbits began to disappear as the area around the Old Forest grew. And of course, as more people moved in, more trees were cut to clear the land for homes. They say this angered the trees. It was already widely rumoured that some folks had seen the trees come alive and move about on their own. They said they even wandered outof the forest at times and took Hobbits captive, carrying them back into the woods for some terrible, unknown purpose.”

“So, how did they know it was the trees that did it?” A sceptical Tom Cotton wanted to know. “Maybe ‘twas an outlaw, or per’aps a big person or two was hiding out in the woods after they’d been up to no good!”

“Because whenever anyone was near the forest they could always make out the dim, shadowy shapes of the great trees, carrying struggling young Hobbit lads away to their doom,” Merry glanced at Tom with a look of consternation before turning back to the others and dropping his voice to a hushed whisper. “And then, the screaming would start. And sometimes there were great flashes of lightning that lit up the sky, and ear shattering claps of thunder, just like what we heard last night! Folks said they could see what was happening in there. But no one wanted to tell what he’d seen because it was just too awful.” Merry leaned forward again. “Folks say it was something in the water that did it. That the old Hobbit loner had learned magic from a wizard and cast a spell upon the waters in the Old Forest. It was said he wanted to get back at his kin for abandoning him.”

“Brandybuck kin?” whispered little Teriadoc Brandybuck as he reached up and clutched at his older sister’s hand in fright.

Merry nodded solemnly. “Or maybe Took kin. Someone must have done something terrible to that old Hobbit to have him take up with so much wrath against his own.”

Pippin listened with rapt attention to Merry’s story. It wasn’t that he found the tale all that frightening thus far. What bothered him was the fact there seemed to be so many elements in the story that reminded him of last night’s dream.

“But then, one night later on, after much of the land had been stripped of the trees to make way for the growing population, something dreadful happened!” Merry stood and his voice dropped to a chilling whisper as he turned in a circle, eyeing them all solemnly. “The trees rose up and marched upon Buckland in the dead of night! Our relatives had to rush out and take up torches to try and drive them back into the woodland before the maddened trees killed everyone in their path!”

Gasps of dismay burst from some of the smallest children. Sancho rolled his eyes again and shook his head, grinning at Pippin. Pippin ignored him and trained all his attention on Merry. His breathing was harsh and his heart raced.

Several of the adults chuckled at Merry’s dramatics as he continued. “Everyone rushed about and the night was filled with the sound of the elder Hobbits giving orders as they all worked hard and fast to drive out the intruders with their great flaming torches! The Hobbits thought they had finally accomplished their task at long last when…” Merry stopped.

A collective hush fell over the group of young Hobbits until someone called out at last, “Finish the story Merry!”

Merry glanced around at them again and raised an eyebrow. He deliberately drew out the silence and spoke slowly at last. “Everyone was not accounted for.” Several of the children drew their breath in quickly and stared at him. Merry nodded. “Yes. It seemed the youngest Brandybuck in the family had gone missing. He was a very small lad, just barely older than a faunt! The family was frantic, naturally! They all ran about madly looking for the young lad when all of a sudden a horrible scream pierced the night and they all looked up as one to see…” Merry’s voice rose along with his enthusiasm, “The hugest tree in the bunch carrying the tiny, struggling lad away into the Old Forest!”

Pippin began to shake and his tremors grew worse as his cousin’s story built to a peak. “The family took up their fire and chased after the great tree that was heading further into the forest by now. A moment later they discovered they had accidentally set the whole forest on fire!” Merry waved his arms about to emphasise his point. “Oh, the woods erupted then in one great hot blaze of fire! Trees became engulfed in flames one by one and the heat was becoming unbearable for the rescuers! But they couldn’t give up because the littlest lad was still held captive so they rushed the tree that held him fast and tried to use the fire to make it release him. The big tree caught fire then and a mournful screech…”

Merry’s voice faded away into the distance, sounding hollow in his ears as Pippin stared into the darkness. His trembling limbs shook harder as he beheld first, a pair of flaming hands, and then a person engulfed in fire, writhing in agony before his horrified gaze. The shrieking reached an unbearable level. He scrambled to his feet, squeezing his eyes shut, pressing his hands over both ears to mute the horrific shrieks. Even so, he was unable to tear his attention away from the powerful stare of the pair of burning eyes that held his own captive. Pippin opened his mouth and released a wail, his hands pressing ever tighter against his head, then collapsed to the ground as family members dashed to his side…

Chapter Two

“Eyes of Blue, Eyes of Fire”

“Noooooo!” Pippin wailed as he dropped to his knees. His entire body shook for a moment before he crumpled over and lay still.  

Frodo was at his little cousin’s side in a flash; it was almost as if he had expected something to happen. Behind him, Paladin and Eglantine hurried to join him, Merry and others close behind them. Pippin lay still on the ground, finally opening his eyes at his mother’s touch and the comforting sound of her voice. Frodo cradled his head in his lap, gently brushing back the soft curls from Pippin’s sweaty brow and murmuring softly. Pippin stared up at him, his mouth slightly open, eyes not quite focused. Frodo smiled down at him.

“What happened?” Pippin whispered.

“I think you swooned,” Frodo said. Pippin struggled to sit up and Frodo helped him.

Paladin knelt and pulled his son into his arms. “Are you all right, lad?” He studied Pippin with a worried frown, his face pale.

“Oh, my! That scream fair stole my very breath away,” Eglantine fretted, as she too knelt beside them.

“Pip, what happened?” Merry leaned over, hands on his knees and looked directly into his cousin’s strained face. “My story wasn’t that scary,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood and dispel his own fear. Pippin peered up at him.

“Merry?” Pippin felt as if he were waking from a dream. He gazed about in confusion at the alarmed faces of his family, all of them huddled around him now.

Pearl crouched on the ground next to her father. She reached out to stroke his cheek and spoke softly to him, “Pippin? Are you all right?”

“Pearl?” Pippin looked bewildered. “What happened?” he asked again.

“I don’t know, lad. It looked as if you swooned dead away. But you’re all right now, I’m certain.” Pearl’s voice was shaky, betraying her apparent confidence.

Pippin looked up at his other sisters as if for confirmation. Pimpernel nodded, her hand squeezing Pervinca’s shoulder.

“What is it, Pip?” Merry squatted next to his uncle, who still hugged Pippin to him. He reached over and brushed his cousin’s hair back. Pippin continued to gape at him as if he wasn’t certain Merry was real.

“Merry?” He asked again and extended a hand as his father lifted him up. His fingertips brushed against Merry’s as his older cousin reached for him.

Paladin shook his head and rose carefully, holding the small lad firmly against his chest. “I’m taking him inside.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea, Pad,” Eglantine hurried after her husband. “I want to look him over.”

“I’ll come with you.” Frodo stood and brushed the dirt from his trousers before he followed.

“So will I!” Merry declared and started to join them.

Saradoc snagged one of Merry’s braces as he scurried by. “Hold on there, lad!” Merry spun around, surprised. “You wait here with the rest of us,” he told his son firmly.

“But, I want to make sure he’s all right! Da--”

Saradoc shook his head. Esmeralda put an arm around her son. “I’ll go in and see what’s what. Your father’s right. You stay put.” Merry nodded his head unhappily but didn’t argue any further.

The others milled about the big bonfire, murmuring their concern and questions to one another. Milo Chubb tilted his head towards the farmhouse. “What do you think that was all about, Doc?”

“I’m not quite sure. We all know the lad has a rather vivid imagination, but I don’t think anyone was expecting a reaction like that.” Saradoc scratched his head, thinking. “Perhaps he just got a bit too caught up in the tale.”

“Aye, you’re probably right. Maybe he was only trying to play up the dramatics, frighten the other children.”

Merry listened to his father and Mr. Chubb while they continued to speculate. Something told him they were dead wrong in their assumptions. Pippin had been awfully moody lately and Merry wasn’t certain exactly what was going on. But he’d be willing to wager that what had just occurred had to do with his cousin’s increasingly shifting disposition, not with playacting. True, Pippin loved attention, and being in the middle of whatever was happening. However, he also was a polite and considerate lad and Merry doubted he would have disrupted the story solely for the purpose of calling attention to himself. Something just didn’t feelright. Estella joined him and took his arm, drawing him along with her.

“Merry, come and sit with me. Your aunt and uncle will get everything all sorted out. Try not to worry so much.” With another reluctant glance over his shoulder, Merry allowed himself to be led away.  

******

Inside the farmhouse Paladin deposited Pippin gently on a chair at the table and turned the lamp up. Frodo hurried in to join them, allowing the door to bang shut behind him in his haste. Eglantine was busy wetting a cloth with cool water. She squeezed it out and hastened to place it against her son’s face. Pippin gasped at the cold against his brow and he batted his mother’s hand away.

“Shh, now my little love. Let your mum tend to you, there’s a good lad.” Pippin calmed as Eglantine soothed, continuing to talk softly to him while she wiped his face with the cool cloth.

Paladin looked up when he heard the door open quietly behind him. His sister watched the scene thoughtfully from the doorway. He beckoned her to his side. “Are you all right, Pad?” Esmeralda placed an arm around his waist.

He nodded, and returned the hug gratefully, and then turned his attention back to his wife and son. Eglantine was now busy looking Pippin over from head to toe in order to satisfy herself that he had indeed come to no harm.

“Well now, young sir. It would seem that you are whole and well, to be sure.” She fussed over him a little more and Pippin began to protest the attention. She stood back with hands on hips and pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Now, can you tell us just what that was all about?”

Pippin squirmed in his chair and eyed his audience awkwardly. This was one time when he didn’t feel like being the centre of attention. Finally he shrugged. “I don’t know,” he told them simply. “I… I guess I just swooned like Frodo said.”

“I don’t recall that ever happening before. Are you certain you’re not feeling ill?” Eglantine placed the back of her hand against his forehead.

“No!” Pippin scowled and shrugged away, irritated. “I said I wasn’t, didn’t I?” He looked around the room, pointedly ignoring them all.

Paladin’s eyes narrowed. “Peregrin, there’s no call for you to be rude to your mother.”

Pippin didn’t answer. He folded his arms defiantly and studied a picture on the wall as if it held great fascination for him. A hush fell over the room. Pippin continued to ignore everyone, and began to thump the chair leg with the back of his heel, frowning. Paladin and Eglantine exchanged questioning looks, while Esmeralda stood to one side appearing to contemplate her nephew’s actions thoughtfully.

Frodo leaned against the sideboard and observed the scene, wondering who was going to be the first to break the silence. Once again, he had a strong feeling about what might have caused part of the problem.

During the extended quiet, the continued merriment of the partygoers reached their ears, as things seemed to return to normal outside. Pippin stared out the window for a few moments, frowning, and finally turned to his parents. “I want to go back to the party,” he stated flatly, avoiding eye contact with them.

“Well,” began Eglantine doubtfully.

Paladin shook his head firmly. “No, son. The celebration is over. The storytelling was the last part of the festivities anyway. I think perhaps you’ve had enough excitement for today.”

“What? No, there was supposed to be a great deal more storytelling!”

Paladin shook his head again. “It’s time for bed now. For everyone.” He turned to his sister. “Esmie, will you help me? I’m going out to tell the others we’re calling it a night. We’ll need to make sure our guests know where they’ll be sleeping.”

Esmeralda nodded and pressed her hand against Eglantine’s arm. “Of course Pad. Tina, don’t worry, Sara and I will get everyone seen to. You just go ahead and tend to your little lad while we--”

“I’m not a ‘little lad’ anymore, Auntie Esmie!” Pippin leaped from his chair and stamped one foot down hard on the floor to make his point. He glared at his aunt. His behaviour was met with shocked silence.

Frodo’s eyes widened at his cousin’s outburst. “Pippin, that wasn’t very nice.”

“No indeed, it wasn’t, and your actions are speaking much louder than your words at the moment, m’lad,” Eglantine admonished her son.

“Apologise to your aunt, Peregrin.” Paladin’s voice was flat and he eyed his son with a no-nonsense frown.

Frodo observed the mighty battle of emotion that was being played out on Pippin’s face. An odd mixture of belligerence and anger appeared to war against a backdrop of shame and regret as his cousin obviously struggled with his decision. Frodo hoped Pippin would apologise without any further prompting from Paladin. It wasn’t like him to react so strongly to the mild statement Esmeralda had made. Frodo again considered several possibilities for the unusual behaviour while they waited to see how the lad would respond to his father’s demand.

Pippin finally lowered his eyes and then flicked them up to his aunt’s face briefly. “I’m sorry, Auntie,” he whispered, before dropping his gaze to the floor again.

Esmeralda knelt and hugged him. “You need to get some sleep now, dear. Things will look better in the morning.” She stood and kissed the top of his head. “I’ll go tend to our guests now. Frodo? Would you care to help?”

Frodo followed her out, pausing to glance at his cousin. Pippin stood flushed and shame-faced, hands clasped behind his back in a pose of contrition, head bowed. Frodo smiled at him slightly as he closed the door.

“Is Pippin all right?” Merry called as he trotted towards his mother and Frodo.

Esmeralda nodded. “Yes, of course he is, dear. Now, we’re going to end the party and see everyone to bed. Be a good lad and help us, hmm?” Esmeralda patted her son’s shoulder as she hurried past him to find her husband.

Merry stared after her and then turned to Frodo. “What was that all about? Pippin doesn’t swoon! What exactly happened?”

“I’m not certain. It looked like he passed out. I’m going to have a talk with him later. Try not to worry so much, Merry.” Frodo also patted Merry on the shoulder and trailed after Esmeralda.

“Merry, you do worry too much about Pippin.” Estella was at his side again. “I’m sure the little rascal just wanted some attention, that’s all,” she chuckled.

Merry shook his head. “I don’t believe that ‘Stella. Something just isn’t sitting right with me about the whole thing.”

“Oh, come now! Pippin being dramatic isn’t anything new and you know it.”

Merry sighed. No one wanted to listen. That was fine, though. He would get to the bottom of this on his own.  

******

“Go on now and get ready for bed, son.” Eglantine spoke softly as she gave him a little nudge in the direction of his room. “Tomorrow’s a new day. I’ll come tuck you in after you’re in bed.”

Pippin halted at his mother’s words. His back stiffened. “I don’t need to be tucked in, Mum, I’m not a faunt. I amcapable of putting myself to bed, after all.” There was an edge in his voice that surprised Eglantine. She sighed a bit impatiently and started to reply when Paladin held up one hand to stop her.

“Pippin, turn around and look at us.”

Pippin hesitated briefly before obeying. Paladin lifted his son’s chin and studied his face intently before speaking. “We’ll discuss what occurred tonight on the morrow. Including your attitude and behaviour. Go to bed now, son. And ‘twould not do you any harm if you did a bit of thinking about your actions.” Paladin released him.

Pippin turned away without another word. Eglantine and Paladin watched him sprint down the long hall to his bedroom and push the door shut very firmly behind him. “Well now, and if that wasn’t the oddest reaction I’ve seen him have in quite a while.” Paladin sank into a chair.

“I know, Pad. I don’t know just what’s got into him lately. It seems to me he’s stewing over something, but I’m not certain just what it is.” Eglantine eyed the corridor for a moment longer before turning to the stove. She bustled about making a pot of tea while Paladin mused over the evening’s events.

He sighed finally and stood, stretching out his back. “I’m going to make sure everyone who’s staying the night knows where they’ll be sleeping.”

“All right dear. Let them know I’m making some tea.” Paladin waved a hand in acknowledgement as he trudged out.  

******  

The farmhouse had grown quiet at last. Pippin lay in his bed unable to sleep. He didn’t quite understand why some of the things the adults had said to him tonight had made him feel so angry. He also didn’t know just what had happened to him earlier, during the storytelling. It had all seemed so real to him at the time. What bothered him most was that he still felt he had actually seen that horrific pair of eyes on fire staring at him in the darkness. He shivered at the memory. But what did it mean? The dreams he’d been having lately had been very queer. He hadn’t even told Merry about them.

They weren’t all frightening. Some were even pleasant in an odd sort of way, but unlike anything he’d experienced before. What bothered him was the fact that he would sometimes recall part of the dream during the day because what he had dreamed would actually occur, at least in part. Snatches of conversation where he would know what the next sentence was, though he was not the one speaking, or scenes from places he’d visited in his dreams would occur within his day. None of it made sense to him. What would Merry think?

Pippin flipped onto his back and folded his hands underneath his head. He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts drifting back to the treasure hunt and the scent of roses. He recalled the way Marigold’s voice sounded when she spoke to him, and how shy he felt when she smiled at him. The softness of her skin when his hand brushed against hers as they both reached for the treasure they’d found at the same time. He had been courteous and offered the sweet to her, saying she had found it first. And then she had laughed in that musical voice and thanked him, her blue eyes twinkling merrily. Those eyes had appeared as bright as jewels when the firelight reflected off them as they sat in the circle with the others later. He couldn’t help smiling at his recollection. Marigold’s eyes were the same shade as the summer sky on a cloudless day. He’d never seen any that were prettier than hers. His smile became a broad grin as he lay in the dark, remembering.

Pippin knew he’d never felt this way before. It was another of the things he didn’t understand. After all, he’d never cared that much before whether Marigold, or any other lass for that matter, liked him or wanted to be near him. He’d watched Merry recently, growing more attached to Estella Bolger while leaving Pippin to his own devices ever more often when she was around. Oh, his cousin’s shameless flirting and showing off for that lass! Pippin scowled. He didn’t think she even liked him, but only tolerated him for Merry’s sake. Well, it didn’t matter anyway. Merry was too busy making eyes at her to realise what a fool he was making of himself.

But…oh, how he wished he could have flirted with Marigold the way Merry had with Estella. He sighed, recalling the way Sam had plunked himself down in between them for the storytelling, and how she hadn’t even taken notice of him after that. Hmph, why did he care, anyway? Pippin grunted and turned on his stomach, thumping the pillow into submission. Nothing was making any sense to him these days. And why had he let Aunt Esmie’s comment bother him so much? He’d very nearly got himself into trouble over that one. And now he would have to ‘discuss’ his behaviour with Mum and Da tomorrow. How was he going to explain anything to them when he didn’t understand it himself? Pippin sighed again and punched his pillow a couple more times before rolling onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling, ruminating darkly. Just when had everything got so confusing?

Finally having had enough of tossing about, he got up and crept down the hall to the room where Merry was sleeping. Careful not to wake the others sharing the room, Pippin climbed into bed with his cousin and tucked himself into a ball next to him. Merry stirred but did not awaken. Pippin, now feeling secure, fell asleep at last.  

******  

Merry woke much later to hear Pippin mumbling in his sleep. He couldn’t help smiling at finding him there. It wasn’t unusual for Pippin to wake in the night and slip into bed with him. Merry felt a strong wave of protectiveness for his younger cousin. He mulled over what Frodo had told him about Pippin’s actions when they were alone at last after the party. Merry puzzled over the scene by the bonfire, recalling the look on the small lad’s face when he had collapsed. It had seemed as if he were… watching something. Something only Pippin himself could see. Merry remembered the eerie look in his cousin’s eye in the seconds before he’d reacted so strongly to the story. Merry laid a comforting hand on him when Pippin began to get restless. In a moment the muttering stopped and soon both were sleeping peacefully.  

******  

Thunder rumbled in the distance, low and threatening. Pippin twitched in his sleep, his eyes darting back and forth beneath his eyelids. Another storm approached the farm as surely as another dream overtook the sensitive lad. He was wandering alone in the dim grey light of a predawn sky. The silence grew more oppressive as it stretched out before him like a road that grew ever longer as he travelled it. His feet felt heavier with each step, the way they did when he walked through the thick mud on the banks of the Brandywine River with Merry, after a hard rain. Each step he took sucked him deeper into the slippery muck, and he had to work harder to free his foot each time he lifted it. He listened intently, but the laughter of two carefree cousins was missing. There was only the exhausting, repetitive work of the journey, and the feeling he was making no progress.

He came upon a huge old tree and stopped, peering up into the wide canopy far, far above his head. Gnarly, twisted branches reached down to him as if in greeting. He grabbed hold of the lowest one and began to climb, settling at last upon a thick limb and huddling against the trunk. He surveyed the landscape with a critical eye. It seemed familiar, yet not. He was certain he was no longer on the riverbank near his cousin’s home, but where was he?

The smothering stillness ended abruptly as the wind picked up with a rush, scattering the dry leaves at the foot of the tree. He gripped the tree limb and tensed, waiting. Waiting for what, he wondered? The branches of the great tree trembled and the air blew cold in his face. He held on tighter, retreating into the thick leaves for shelter. Soon, the unwelcome grumble of thunder joined the storm in its intrusion into his sanctuary. He shuddered as it stung his ears, vying for attention along with the pouring rain and the rushing wind.

He became aware of a bonfire burning clean and bright far across the plain. When he looked again it was out of control, raging its way across the land. With each breath he took it drew closer to his hiding place, as if he were somehow attracting it to him, as if he were the cause of its fury. Then, the sound of a cold voice, droning on and on, merged with the increasing roar of the wind and the clash of thunder. Wide-eyed, he clambered to the ground and ran. The blaze accelerated and he tried to run faster, but with every step he fell back closer to its path. The smoke burned in his throat as he attempted to call for help; the forest burst into flames around him. A pair of burning eyes emerged from the darkness and held his in their captive stare. Trapped, terrified, Pippin raised his voice and howled…

“WHAT IN THE…!” Merry scrambled to his feet before he was fully awake. The sound of Pippin’s scream in his ear had catapulted him straight out of the bed. Across the room his cousins Merimas and Berilac also jerked awake at the cries of fright. Pippin huddled in a tight ball on the far corner of the bed, eyes wide and mouth twisted into a scream as he stared at some unseen terror. He wailed again. Merry jumped onto the bed and shook him. “Pippin! Wake up, you’re dreaming!”

Pippin shrank away at Merry’s touch. He stared at him with unseeing eyes and Merry shivered at the sight before shaking Pippin awake at last. A moment later the door to the room burst open and Frodo ran in, Paladin and Saradoc close behind him.

Pippin, fully awake now, stared about at his visitors before collapsing in a heap on the bed and immediately rolling into a tight ball. He wept; great wrenching sobs shook his small frame as if nothing in this world was capable of consoling him. Eglantine pushed her way into the room behind the others and hurried over to her son. She scooped him up and rocked him in her arms, murmuring softly to him. After a time his sobs began to lessen.

“Come, lads,” Paladin gestured. Taking one more look at the scene and feeling that his wife had things under control at last, Paladin led the others out of the room. Merry remained with his aunt. Sitting on the bed next to them, he stroked Pippin’s hair soothingly before lifting his own tear-filled eyes to Eglantine’s.

“What’s wrong with him, Aunt Tina?”

Eglantine continued to soothe her son, brushing back his hair and rocking him. She looked at her nephew, concern etched deeply on her tired face. “I don’t know, Merry. For the moment, it’s only a bad dream. As for the rest of tonight’s events…” her voice trailed off.

Merry had to agree. He didn’t understand what was happening either. But he intended to figure it out.

  Turning Points

Chapter Three

“Insight”

“It’ll be time to leave soon. I’d like to have the opportunity to speak with Pippin before I leave. How is he this morning?” Frodo spoke quietly with Paladin in one corner of the kitchen while the happy confusion of breakfast preparations continued in the background.

“He was a bit subdued when I saw him earlier. Perhaps he just needed some time to wake up, though. He didn’t get much rest last night and neither did we,” Paladin sighed and glanced over to where Eglantine was busy supervising the meal preparation with the help of her daughters and Esmeralda. “I don’t think he was able to sleep at all after that fearsome nightmare. Tina sat with him for some time and he refused to lie down again. She even tried to entice him into our room to crawl in between us, but he rejected that idea too.” Paladin chuckled, ”He told us he was way too old for that. It’s the first time he’s ever said such a thing!”

“Hmm. He is growing up.”

“Aye, but sometimes you wouldn’t know it from the way he’s been acting lately. I suppose it is part of the process though.” Paladin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It won’t be long until he’s twenty-four. Hard to believe that much time has gone by.”

“Yes, his birthday is only a few months away.” Frodo said. “I recall that age and what an awkward time it was for me.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t really thought much about it, but Pippin is entering the time in a lad’s life when everything starts happening at once.”

“And, when everything becomes very confusing,” Frodo nodded. “Actually, that’s exactly what’s been on my mind since I noticed some of his actions recently.”

Paladin looked at his younger cousin with a twinkle in his eye. “Do you mean you think he’s starting to notice the lasses?”

“Well, he’s not that young, Pad!” Frodo said. “He was quite all right with Merry going off with Estella without him last night, but only after he found out he would be pairing up with Marigold.” Frodo smiled. “Speaking of which -I was so pleased I was able to talk the Gaffer into allowing Sam and his sister to attend the party. They rarely are able to have that kind of opportunity, and I knew they’d get such pleasure from it.”

“Yes, I’m very glad they were able to join us,” Paladin nodded and then rolled his eyes with a grin. “Ah, Marigold Gamgee! Pippin’s been fascinated with her for quite awhile. I noticed it a long time ago. Hmph, now that I think about it I seem to recall feeling an interest in lasses myself long before I ever let on to anyone!”

Frodo grinned. “Yes, it is something every lad gets around to thinking about, sooner or later. Some more quickly than others.”

“Perhaps I’m too far past that time to recall it in as much detail as you. So tell me, Frodo. Is there a particular lass you’ve got an eye on yourself?” Paladin winked.

Before Frodo could respond they were interrupted by the call to get ready for breakfast. Hobbits of every size and age seemed to appear out of nowhere. The subject of their conversation entered the kitchen at that moment and slid into a chair next to Merry.

“Pip,” his cousin hissed in his ear, “I’m saving that seat for Estella. Go sit by Freddy.” Merry pointed across the table.

“Fine.” Pippin scowled but didn’t bother protesting as he rose and walked stiffly around the long table. He tossed a look of disdain at the object of Merry’s affection as she hurried to join his cousin.

“Hullo Pip!” Fredegar Bolger looked up with a smile as Pippin scooted into the chair beside him.

Pippin muttered his greeting without looking at Freddy then put his head in his hands and frowned at his plate. Lack of sleep and the terrible dreams had left the usually cheerful lad tired and short of patience.

Furthermore, he was not looking forward to having the promised discussion with his parents later. His recent behaviour was the very last thing he wished to talk to anyone about.

He finally raised his head and gazed around, focusing on the other side of the table. His eyes wandered until they settled on Marigold’s red-gold hair as she sat quietly murmuring to her brother. Her tresses gleamed in the early morning sunlight and Pippin studied her dreamily, wondering what it would feel like to run those long curls between his fingers. His gaze travelled to her face and he smiled as she laughed at some small jest. He noticed with delight the way her eyes crinkled as she giggled, and how the dimples at the corners of her mouth deepened. Allowing his interest to focus a bit lower, he lingered on her neck, marveling at the snowy skin, imagining it to be as soft to touch as her hair surely was.

Daringly, his focus descended until he was staring helplessly at the swell of her breasts, unable to tear his eyes away. The memory of what he had witnessed Merry and Estella doing came unbidden to his mind’s eye, and a pleasurable sensation shivered through him, causing him to wriggle in his chair. Lost in his speculations, Pippin’s attention moved upward in a leisurely manner and he was jarred from his reverie as a pair of blue eyes met his, regarding him calmly. He flinched, eyes widening in alarm, feeling his face grow hot under her scrutiny.

She smiled at him pleasantly and he quickly dropped his eyes, mortified. He felt a bead of sweat forming on his brow. Warmth poured throughout his entire body, his embarrassment mixing oddly with his pleasure. He felt himself growing hard and fidgeted uncomfortably, both delighting in the feeling while desperately wishing it would go away. Pippin darted his eyes around in panic, utterly convinced everyone present noticed his body’s reaction to Marigold’s awareness. The conversation continued without interruption and he finally sighed in relief and forced himself to think of something, anything, else.

After breakfast Frodo invited him to go for a walk. Pippin looked at him curiously for a moment before trailing after him. They strolled through the meadow for a time, saying little. At last, Frodo sat, his back to resting against a tree and bid Pippin to join him. Pippin plunked down cross-legged and began toying with some blades of grass.

Frodo cleared his throat. “Pippin?” Pippin looked up, raising his brow in question. “Is something bothering you? You seem out of sorts lately. Have you had many bad dreams like the one last night?”

Pippin shrugged and placed a thick blade of grass between his thumbs and blew on it. The satisfying tweet it made caused him to smile slightly. He toyed with the blade of grass absent-mindedly as he considered Frodo’s question.

Frodo was watching him with his usual patience and for some odd reason this only served to irritate Pippin more. “Merry doesn’t have time for me anymore. All he thinks about is Estella Bolger.” The statement brought a frown to his face.

“Ah. Well, you know, Merry’s at the age where he wants to get to know the lasses a bit better. You’ll feel that way too, one of these days.”

Pippin shook his head. “No.”

“Yes, you will. Take my word for it.” Frodo gently touched his shoulder.

Pippin sighed. “I’m in trouble. I have to have a talk with Mum and Da later and I don’t want to. Because of what happened last night in the kitchen when I was rude to Auntie Esmie, after…you know.”

“After you swooned?”

Pippin nodded glumly and plucked at some tufts of grass near his feet.

“Did you really, Pip? Or did something else happen?”

Pippin’s head shot up. “Wha--what do you mean? You were the one who said I swooned!”

“I mean, are you telling us the whole truth about what happened to you?”

Pippin glanced away. He wished so much to share the unusual dreams and visions. He knew he could trust Frodo. So, why wouldn’t the words come? He swallowed hard a couple of times while his mind rushed over the events of the past few days. He grew annoyed again, yet he wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Pippin?” Frodo tried again, and this time Pippin scowled at his cousin.

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“I do believe you. I just think there’s something more to the problem than you’re telling us.” Pippin stared, stony-faced. “There is, isn’t there? Does it have anything to do with the reason you got so upset with everyone afterward? It just isn’t like you to be so snappish with your Aunt Esmie. Or with anyone, for that matter,” Frodo added softly.

“There’s nothing wrong with me!” Pippin almost shouted, coming to his feet. Frodo drew back in surprise.

“I see.” He waited quietly for Pippin to calm down.

Pippin darted a look around self-consciously, and sank back to the ground. His cheeks coloured and he studied the grass beneath his feet before looking up. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and Frodo reached over to pat his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He sighed. “I just can’t seem to do anything right lately.” Pippin fell backwards and looked up at the sky.

Frodo smiled and stretched out next to him. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Finally, Pippin said, ”I don’t like having bad dreams.”

“No one does,” Frodo agreed.

The pair fell silent once more.

“I don’t like thunderstorms, either,” Pippin finally offered.

“I know you don’t.” Frodo placed his hands underneath his head and waited patiently. His eyes tracked a bird as it flew overhead while several minutes passed. Frodo watched Pippin from the corner of his eye.

“Or lightning.”

Frodo said nothing.

“Or Merry not having time for me anymore.”

Frodo’s mouth twitched in amusement. Now they were getting somewhere.

“What else don’t you like, Pip?”

“Everything changing.”

Ah. “In what way?”

Pippin hesitated, then drew a deep breath and released it abruptly. “I…I don’t know exactly. I’m not quite certain what I mean.”

“No?” Frodo could sense the frustration in his young cousin’s words.

Pippin moved his head from side to side, continuing to stare up at the clouds drifting overhead.

Frodo rose up on his elbow. “Do you want to know what I think?” Pippin’s eyes turned to him. “I believe there have been some things happening to you that you don’t fully understand. And that perhaps frighten you a little.” Pippin did not respond, but it was obvious to Frodo that he was listening closely. “Some of these incidents are worrisome because of their nature, and cause you to feel ‘different’ than others in some way. You want to talk about it, but you don’t know how to start. You’re afraid, and more than a little confused, and somewhere inside you’re trying to convince yourself that if you don’t say anything, it may all just go away. Does that about sum it up?” Frodo watched the war of emotion on Pippin’s face as his cousin struggled with an answer.

A lone tear trickled from the corner of Pippin’s eye, as he lay completely motionless. Finally, he scrubbed his shirtsleeve across his face and sat up. “How do you know that?” He sniffed and rubbed his eyes with both hands, then gazed at Frodo in wonder.

Frodo smiled. “Because I was your age once too, you know.” He sat up and leaned against the tree again, folding his legs underneath him. “Around that time I started to have a great many, well…let’s call them unusual dreams.”

Frodo gazed off into the distance, his eyes becoming unfocused as he spoke. “I recall many times when portions of what I dreamed would turn up in strange ways the next day.” He smiled as green eyes regarded him sceptically. “I mean that I often knew what was going to be said before anyone said it. Or I knew when something was about to occur before it happened. Very odd, I know. Not something I wanted to share with anyone lest they think I’d taken leave of my senses.” Frodo noticed Pippin’s mouth had opened slightly and his eyes had widened as he listened with rapt attention.

“One time - it wasn’t long before I left Buckland to go and live with Bilbo - I knew there was going to be a fire in the parlour because some smouldering ashes had blown out of the fireplace, landing in a rug unnoticed.” Frodo’s eyes became distant again. “I saw the smoke, felt the heat. Watched as the flames licked up the walls…in my dream. It was afterwards that I came to realize what a gift the Sight could be in such instances.”

Pippin drew a sharp breath as Frodo continued without looking at him. “And the potential it possessed as a burden. It was one I did not wish to bear, but it would seem I had no choice in the matter.” Frodo paused while Pippin started to fidget. He watched his young cousin thoughtfully for a moment.

“What happened?” Pippin asked quietly.

“I was able to stop the fire before it got out of control. Thankfully, my foreknowledge and actions prevented a possible tragedy. Coincidentally, this started around the same time I began to notice lasses. I’ve often wondered if there was any particular connection. I started to be aware of a sort of…energy I suppose you might call it, that was all about me. It was a different feeling than I’d ever experienced before in my entire life.”

“The…the…Sight?” Pippin sputtered. “Like Da? And Aunt Esmie?” Frodo nodded slowly. Pippin didn’t speak for several very long moments. At last he mumbled, “I…I’ve heard them tell of it, but I never thought…”

“That you might inherit the gift?”

Pippin’s eyes clouded over and tears began to trickle down his cheeks. He leaped to his feet, suddenly angry. “NO! I don’t have any ‘gift’ and I don’t see things before they happen, and, and, and -- I don’t even like lasses!” With a sob he bolted away and ran across the meadow.

Frodo watched him, but made no move to follow. With a sigh of resignation he rose and headed back towards the farmhouse. Perhaps I shouldn’t have done that. Maybe I should have just let him talk about whatever he wanted. Frodo ruminated as he walked. No. I am certain this is what’s been happening to him and he needed to hear it. He’ll come around after a time. I know he will. And then he’ll realize he can come and talk to me whenever he’s ready.

Turning Points

Chapter Four

“Laying Plans…”

He lay awake that night recalling all the things that had happened over the last few days. The talk with Frodo had thoroughly unnerved him with its unexpectedness. His cousin had come closer to the truth than anyone thus far. Pippin tossed restlessly and finally settled on his back. He folded his arms underneath his head and stared at the ceiling. Perhaps he should take him up on his offer to talk? He was certain he was going to shatter, and soon, if he didn’t let out some of the emotions that were building steadily within him. He had questions that needed genuine answers. He trusted Frodo. So what was holding him back? “I don’t know!” He flipped over with a sigh and punched his pillow into submission. Lily made her displeasure known with a protesting meow and sought a place on the bed as far away from her young master’s thrashing about as possible.

Pippin wrapped his arms around the pillow and settled into its soft comfort with a sigh. Once more he found himself thinking about her. The way she smelled, the way she looked, and how the strawberry curls in her hair swirled in a different direction on the left side than they did on the right. The way he felt when she looked at him. Her smile, her soft voice. He dreamed on, imagining what it would be like if she kissed him on the mouth the way he had seen Merry do it with Estella. He remembered watching them on one occasion unbeknownst to his cousin, while Merry kissed her, and the way their lips moved and were slightly open. He had a feeling they were doing something more with their mouths, but hadn’t been able to tell for certain.

Another time, not long after that encounter, he had come upon them quite by accident, spying them through a partially open door to one of the back parlours at Brandy Hall. He’d again lingered watching them, feeling alternately ashamed and aroused by what he saw. He knew Merry would have been furious if he’d caught him. He didn’t care to even think about what Estella’s reaction would have been. But he’d been unable to tear his eyes away and watched until he heard someone coming, at which point he’d darted into a nearby closet. When he emerged they were gone. But he hadn’t stopped thinking about what he’d seen, and tonight, for some reason, the thoughts simply refused to go away. Pippin felt his cheeks grow warm in the darkness, and the warmth spread throughout his entire body.

He wasn’t aware when he’d actually made the transition between waking and sleeping, because nothing seemed any different. He wandered the long corridors of Brandy Hall knowing he was looking for someone. Who he sought, he did not know, yet he was drawn along. His head jerked up, startled by the sudden wail coming from behind the door at the end of the winding turn. He crept forward ever so slowly, alternately wanting what he sought and dreading it, as if he knew some unwanted knowledge lay behind the door. The crying grew in volume as he approached; yet the door seemed always farther away. He reached for the knob but his hand brushed the air instead. He was walking in mud, the mire drawing him deeper with each step as he thrashed against it. Without warning, the door flew open and a weeping child beseeched him for aid. Behind her came the sound of violently rushing water.

“I’m coming,” he called, “Wait for me, don’t go!” The loud scream echoing from behind the door tore at his heart. He increased his struggles to move forward but it was like taking a swim in the sludge at the bottom of a pond. The child’s wails urged him on and he reached the opening at last, only to stare at the sight of deep black water coursing through the room. The scream faded away as he reached into the void, the cry now his own.

Pippin’s eyes flew open. His breath came in short ragged gasps as he struggled to a sitting position, tossing aside his blanket and dumping Lily on the floor. The big white cat rushed from the room with a growl of protest at the rude awakening. Pippin didn’t notice. He was sitting on the side of his bed, heart pounding in his ears. Something was wrong. But what was it? Yes, he was ready to talk. Tomorrow he would ask his parents to allow him to visit Bag End. He felt almost giddy at the thought, like a great weight had been lifted from his heart. Pippin lay down again and spent the rest of the night making plans. There was no more sleep to be found.

******

“Have you seen our son this morning, Pad?” Eglantine turned from the stove as her husband came through the kitchen door on his way in from the barn.

Paladin shook his head as he placed a pail of fresh milk in the sink. “No, but

I’d like to. He hasn’t started any of his chores yet. His sisters are already half finished. I’d best not find him laying abed still.”

“No,” Eglantine shook her head as she bustled about preparing for the first breakfast of the morning. “I looked there already. There’s no sign of him. Why, he even made up his bed and tended to his clothes! I almost swooned when I noticed that,” she chuckled. Paladin stopped what he was doing for a moment and tilted his head in thought, as Eglantine continued, ”He must have gone out and we’ve just missed seeing him.”

“Hmm, perhaps. And then again, he might have forgot all about his responsibilities and just went off with his head in the clouds the way he’s been doing lately.”

“Now Pad,” Eglantine scolded him, “give him the benefit of the doubt at least.”

Paladin chuckled. “Don’t I always?” He came up behind his wife and surprised her with a hug and a kiss on the neck, making her laugh.

“No. You don’t. Sometimes you’re too eager to jump to conclusions before you know what’s going on around you.” She swatted at him playfully with the towel in her hand. “So why don’t you wait and see what he’s been up to, eh? He may just surprise you.”

“Aye, he’s been surprising me often enough lately.” Paladin went back to the sink and began tending to the milk. “Do you think a word of what we said to him yesterday stayed in his head?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Well now, I do believe he took our little talk very sincerely to heart,” she nodded. “I could tell he was listening to every word.”

“Ah, and how do you know that when he was staring at his feet for half of the conversation?” Paladin twisted around to wink at her before returning to his task.

“Because I know my son well,” Eglantine bristled. “And I’m certain he was listening, because of the fact he hung his head during half our discussion. The lad was feeling ashamed of his actions, ‘twas very obvious! Really, Pad, I think--”

“Oh, he heard, all right. I know he did, for once.”

Eglantine paused, cooking fork in hand and stared incredulously at her husband’s back.

“Now don’t be so surprised by what I said, Tina.” Paladin continued pouring the milk into another container without looking at her. “I know my son too, and I know when he’s paying mind to what I’m saying and when he’s not. And he most assuredly is aware that we weren’t pleased with his manners the other night.” He tipped the last drops of milk into the pitcher and set it on the table, then washed the bucket under the hand pump. “Ah, he’s a good lad and never means any harm. He just needs to be shown the error of his ways now and then.”

Eglantine nodded slowly. “I agree.”

Paladin leaned against the sink and dried his hands on a towel. “He’s coming into the time of his life when his body’s starting to change, Tina,” he said gently. Tossing the towel aside he stepped forward and took her in his arms. “His thoughts are changing too. And neither part of him has had time to catch up with the other yet.” He held her at arms length and searched her face. “Do you not remember what it was like with our lasses?”

“Of course I do. But…Pippin is still so young! Surely it can’t be that time of his life already.”

“He’s your baby, your youngest. I think it’s harder for you to see it, my love.

And besides, you’ve never been a lad yourself.” He winked at her. “You picked up on it quick enough when our lasses reached that age, but you’re not seeing it with Pippin. Have you not noticed how moody he’s become? Or how quick he is to answer back to us, to challenge our authority? How one minute he wants us to treat him like he’s older, and then the next day he’s acting like a little lad, younger than his years? As if he can’t make up his mind which it’s to be.”

Eglantine nodded thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, I have noticed a stronger odour about his clothing as I’m doing the wash these days…well, and I just brushed it off as being picked up from your clothing. But…now that I think about it, I’ve noticed it at other times too, like when I’m collecting up the wash from his room, or he’s near me.” She shook her head. “I suppose I’ve been distracted lately, what with all the canning and other work from the harvest.”

Paladin nodded. “Yes, and that of course is another very obvious sign, my dear. And what about the times lately when Merry’s been staying with us? Sometimes our lad acts like a fauntling when Merry’s heading off without him, and going somewhere Pippin’s not allowed without an adult present.”

Eglantine chuckled. “Such as the tavern?”

Paladin’s eyes twinkled. “Aye! And other times he’s trying not to let anyone see he’s noticing just what his cousin is up to with Estella Bolger?” Paladin chuckled. “Did you see him watching Marigold Gamgee the night of the Harvest party? I was afraid he’d soon be tripping over his chin if he didn’t stop gaping at her!”

“Hmm. And just how did I manage to miss all of that?”

“Well, you were busy with our guests. Or perhaps you saw it, but didn’t really see it, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I know what you mean, all right, Paladin Took! And I’ll not be turning a blind eye to my own son’s doings, never you fear. I may have missed some things but I can assure you I’ll be keeping my eyes wide open from now on.”

“Now, Tina. Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s a mother’s way, after all. And seeing as how you were never a lad, and thank goodness for that, you can’t be expected to see it as quickly as I can.”

“Well, you needn’t be so smug about it, Pad. But I think Pippin’s got a long way to go yet, and he--”

“I’m starving! When do we eat?” Pippin burst into the kitchen through the back door, eyes bright, and looked around eagerly.

“My, and don’t you have tons of energy this morning. You must have slept a great deal better last night.” Eglantine peered at him closely.

Pippin appeared not to notice and wandered over to the stove to see what was cooking. He nodded in an offhand manner as he inspected the bacon set aside to stay warm on the stovetop.

“Where have you been?” Paladin took his seat at the table as the rest of the family filed in. “Have you started any of your chores yet?”

Pippin nodded as he turned, a piece of bacon in each hand and one in his mouth. “Yes Da,” he mumbled around the food. “I started them but I don’t have much done yet. I will, after breakfast, I promise.” Pippin moved to his place at the table and plopped into his chair. He reached for a knife and the butter, carefully avoiding his father’s eyes, and busied himself with a slice of bread.

“You didn’t answer my first question, son,” Paladin reminded him.

“I went for a stroll, that’s all.” Pippin continued his careful buttering of the bread without looking up.

“Since when do you ‘stroll’ through the pasture at sunrise, Pip?” Pervinca snorted. “Mum and Da usually have to tip you out of bed at that hour.”

Pippin rolled his eyes at his youngest sister and didn’t bother answering.

“Peregrin, I need your help this afternoon. I’ve a delivery to make to one of our neighbours and I want you to come with me.”

Pippin tried not to sigh too loudly and didn’t bother inquiring about the details. “Yes, Da,” he mumbled obediently, remembering how he’d been admonished about his attitude during their little talk the day before. Wisely, he decided not to push his luck this time. There go my plans for the afternoon.

Paladin chose to ignore his son’s obvious disapproval of the request and returned to his breakfast calmly. 

******

“Pad?” Eglantine approached her husband in the barn later that morning. “What delivery were you referring to? I don’t recall anything of the sort.”

Paladin turned from his task of fitting a new harness on one of the ponies and smiled mischievously at his wife. “I made it up so I’d have an excuse to take Pippin off alone and talk to him.”

“Ah, I see.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Do you mean it’s time for that father and son chat, then?”

“Something like that.” He fingered the leather harness as he contemplated. “I want to find out what his thoughts are, and if he’s having any problems. And see if I can find out a little more about these nightmares, if he’ll share it with me. He may have questions that need answering. All things he wouldn’t be likely to speak of with his mother present.”

“I see, just lad talk. I understand. He’d probably be embarrassed to say anything in front of me.”

“Ah, he’ll likely feel shy about talking to me too, but it’ll be some easier at least. I’m almost certain I heard his voice break just the other day. You know what that means.”

Eglantine smiled. “My little lad is growing up.”

“Aye, that he is. Frodo was talking to me about this before everyone left yesterday. He said he’d been noticing how moody Pippin was becoming even before the incident at the party.”

“It’s sweet of him to be concerned.”

Paladin nodded. “Actually, our talk helped me to see what’s been right under my nose the whole time. Here I’ve been puzzling over Pippin’s actions and never really giving much thought to what might be happening.”

“You’ve been working awfully hard to get the harvest in, Pad. Don’t be too hard on yourself about it. We’ve all been very busy.”

“I don’t ever want to be too busy to miss what’s going on in my family, Tina. Particularly when it has to do with my children.”

“Yes, of course dear.” Eglantine stood on tiptoe and gave her husband a peck on the cheek. “Well then, I’ll be very interested to see how it turns out.”

“So will I,” Paladin answered dryly.

Turning Points

Chapter Five

“A Plainspoken Discussion”

“Ah, well maybe we should be taking a brief rest here. What do you say, son?” Paladin didn’t wait for Pippin to answer. He pulled the waggon over to the side of the road and hopped down.

Pippin had not been easily fooled. He knew perfectly well the errand had been a made up one after seeing just what the ‘delivery’ had been about. Now they were stopping to rest? Delivering a couple of bushels of apples to a neighboring farm had not been strenuous in the least! And what did Mr. Burrows need with apples anyway, when he had a whole orchard of his own? Pippin had noted the farmer seemed bewildered to be receiving a call from his neighbor bearing gifts of fruit in the first place.

Pippin slanted a look at his father wondering if he’d done something else to get himself in trouble. But try as he might, he couldn’t think of a single thing for once. He followed his father down the path into the meadow that bordered their farm. They walked for a time while Paladin talked about things like the weather, the crops and the harvest, his son’s pets, the upcoming celebration of Yuletide. Pippin listened but did no more than grunt out a reply to an occasional direct question. He was growing frustrated with the conversation and wished his father would simply get to the point.

At last, Paladin stopped and looked around. He gestured to a spot where some small trees offered them a place to rest out of the bright sunlight. They sat and regarded one another for a moment. “Pippin lad,” Paladin began, making himself comfortable by leaning back against a sapling and stretching out his legs, “Son, I’ve been noticing some changes in you lately, and I wondered if perhaps you’d like to talk about it.”

Pippin’s eyes widened. This wasn’t exactly what he’d expected to hear. He tugged anxiously at some tufts of grass.  “Umm,” he lowered his eyes and plucked a little harder at the greenery, “what kind of changes are you talking about?”

Paladin smiled gently. “What I’m speaking of is the kind that take place as a lad gets older. When his feelings about certain things start to mature along with his growing body. They can be very confusing. Especially when he starts to notice the lasses.”

Pippin gulped. No, I do not want to be talking about this to anyone. Please don’t be about to say what I think you are about to say.

“Boys begin to have all sorts of unexpected thoughts around your age, Pippin. That’s when everything seems to start happening very fast. Most of those feelings are good ones generally, but it may be rather alarming, especially if you don’t understand what it’s all about. Do you have a notion about what I’m trying to say, son?”

Pippin sat stiffly with his back against a tree hoping his face would not betray his true thoughts. He was certain all of the colour must have been draining from his cheeks, judging from the way his father was looking at him. He opened his mouth and tried to say something but no words came out.

“Are you all right, Pippin lad?” Paladin leaned forward in obvious concern. Pippin coughed and nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment.

Encouraged, his father continued. “Then as I was saying, these feelings, they’re all quite typical for boys of your age. Just remember that.” Paladin leaned over to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “When a lad starts to look at lasses in a different light he’s starting to grow up.” Paladin sat back again and grinned openly. “It means that even though ‘twill be quite awhile before you reach your majority, the process is getting well under way. It’s normal and something all males have in common. Do you get my meaning?”

“Umm…” Normal? This is all normal? It would be splendid if it was, but I have some serious doubts about it. Still . . . perhaps it would be worthwhile to ask a question or two. That is, if I can do it without choking. “Uh, well . . . what, what kinds of things are going to happen?”

Instead of answering, Paladin reached for a twig lying at his feet and twirled it in his fingers. Pippin watched him with interest as he appeared to study it closely. It was apparent that his father was suddenly feeling awkward about their talk and this gave Pippin even greater pause. If his da was so uncomfortable then perhaps this topic had something more fascinating to it? His usual sense of inquisitiveness rushed to the fore. “Da?” he prompted when it looked like his father wasn’t going to say any more.

Paladin drew a deep breath and plunged ahead. “Well…what I’m trying to say is that you start to think about lasses in a different light.”

“Yes, you said that already.”

“Aye, so I did. Well...what I mean is that you want to be around them more, and at the same time you start to be concerned with what they’re thinking about you. It’s confusing because you haven’t felt that way before. A part of you might be saying to yourself, ‘Well, and just why do I care about what so and so thinks of me’? But the next thing you know, you’re trying anything you can think of to get her to notice you.” Paladin coughed, the colour rising in his cheeks. “Umm…and that’s a whole other thing because a lad can really get himself into hot water if he’s not careful.”

This declaration caused Pippin to grin knowingly. “What kind of trouble did you get yourself into, Da? Was it because of Mum?”

Paladin eyed his son for a moment before a sheepish smirk crept over his face. “Aye, well lads sometimes go to great lengths to get a lass’s attention, and his actions might not be very well thought out. If you get my meaning.” He winked, joining his son in laughter.

“What happened?”

“Ah…well…I don’t want to be giving you any bad ideas so perhaps we should save that story for another day.”

“You mean you don’t want to tell me what you did because you’re embarrassed about what happened. Right Da?” Pippin’s eyes twinkled obviously delighted with his father’s discomfort and the unexpected turn the conversation had taken.

“And just when did you get so perceptive?”

Pippin shrugged then raised one eyebrow expectantly. Paladin sighed. “So I’ve painted myself into a corner and you won’t let me out again, eh? All right, but don’t you be getting any notions yourself. Aye?” Pippin pursed his lips and didn’t answer. Paladin shook a finger at him. “Oh no you don’t, m’lad. If I tell you what I did you have to promise me you won’t try doing the same thing. ‘Twas an ill-considered stunt, after all, and I’ll warm the seat of your britches if I find out you’ve tried it.”

Pippin grinned with all the satisfaction of a youngster who has managed to fluster an adult and get his own way at the same time. “Did Granda warm the seat of your britches?”

Paladin shook his head with a snort of exasperation. “Well, what do you think?”

Pippin chuckled and settled back to hear the story.

“We were at the Free Faire in Tuckborough with our families. Me and Milo Chubb, Togo Burrows, and Olo Proudfoot, although Olo was just a youngster and we allowed him to tag along. We met up with a few other lads of similar age, and the lot of us were looking for something to do when we noticed a small group of lasses keeping an eye on us at every turn.” Paladin smiled at the long ago memory. “Your mother was so lovely with her long crimson curls and big blue gray eyes and I’d already taken notice of her not long before that day. Quite honestly, I went rather weak in the knees whenever I laid eyes on her. So naturally I got thinking that here was the perfect opportunity to impress her with some of my finer abilities and perhaps show up the other lads whilst I was at it. Two birds with one stone, so to speak.” Paladin laughed. “It didn’t help my cause any that Esmie had joined the group of lasses, but I thought it too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

“What did Aunt Esmie do?”

“Ah, your aunt has always made a habit of doing things to embarrass me, so it was seldom a good thing whenever she was spying on me, and most certainly not when I was with the other lads or if lasses were involved.”

“Just like Vinca picks on me.”

“True enough,” Paladin chuckled. “I remember the time Esmie slipped a raw egg down the back of my britches just as I was sitting down to breakfast. We had company visiting at the time and I was so humiliated. Oh, mercy, did she run when I yelled and went chasing after her! I never saw her for the rest of that day. Little sisters can be the bane of a lad’s existence.”

“Hmph, so can older sisters.”

“I suppose you’re right about that, too. Anyway, we'd spied the way a series of thick ropes had been strung across the way in several places throughout the faire grounds – you know, to hang the banners off of? And we got to jesting about how daring we’d look to the lasses if we were to walk all the way across one of them.” Paladin stopped to clear his throat. “Even though they were about fifteen or twenty feet off the ground.”

“What?” Pippin’s eyes got big. “You mean you actually. . .?”

Paladin nodded enthusiastically, warming to his story. “Oh, aye. And now you can already see what a foolish prank it was, eh? And why you wouldn’t ever want to try it?” Paladin leaned back with a shake of his head. “Oh, the unwise thoughts some lads get, especially when they see lasses and they’re bound to show off how smart they are. We located one area where the wind had twisted up the banner on the highest rope so it was out of the way, making it a perfect handhold for lads who were silly enough to stand on the lower rope and try inching across it. All in order to impress some lasses,” Paladin grunted, his eyes distant as he recalled that long ago day.

“There’d been a big rainstorm the night before and our feet were slippery with mud, but we paid no mind to that and climbed up one of the trees the ropes were tied to. Of course we dared one another to see who’d be bold enough to go first. But we refused to let Olo follow us up the tree, although he begged us to let him and tried to follow us anyway. That was at least the one good thing we did, because he was just a wee lad at the time. Well, Togo froze and couldn’t bring himself to do it and the rest of us laughed at him. But then Milo started to think twice about it and he wanted me to go first. I couldn’t let anyone think I was afraid, and besides, I was quite certain I could do it. I’d always been agile and sure footed, after all--”

“Just like me, right Da?” Pippin laughed.

Paladin frowned at him. “Aye, just like you and I’m where you get it from, without a doubt. And just to be reminding you, you are not going to try this because you won’t forget you promised me, will you now?”

Pippin rolled his eyes. “No, I said I wouldn’t. Remember?”

“Just see that you don’t forget. Anyway, I managed to inch my way across the rope, sometimes not even holding on to the one above as I balanced real careful like. The lasses were all suitably impressed, of course, and I could hear them giggling and saying things about me. I got inspired and a little too overconfident I suppose, and started to make my way back, planning to do an even better job.” Paladin laughed again. “I looked down and I could see your mother, her eyes as big as saucers at my daring. And I let those pretty eyes of hers distract me and that was my downfall. My feet were very muddy and a little slippery, and that’s all it took to make me lose my balance and set me to sliding off that rope, and no one more surprised than I was.” Paladin threw his head back and his chuckle became a groan. “Ah me, and there I was all of a sudden, just a dangling there and hanging onto that blasted rope for dear life!”

“Oh no! How did you get down?”

“I tried to move hand over hand to get back to where I’d started, but the rope was slick with the mud from my feet and I almost lost my grip. I can tell you my heart was pounding a mile a minute in my chest! I was certain I was going to fall at any second and break both my legs, and worse. Oh! I didn’t want to yell for help in the worst way, but it didn’t really matter because the lasses were shrieking to beat all by then. And the last thing I wanted was for my parents to find out just what I’d been up to. But your aunt Esmie went running off to find them, of course. Och!” Paladin winced at the memory. “The next thing I knew my da was there and I remember thinking I’d be much better off just to keep hanging onto that rope for the rest of my life rather than have to come down and face him.”

“I can understand why.” Pippin grimaced at the imagined scene.

Paladin put his arm around Pippin's shoulders. “I frightened the life out of them, son. Not to mention myself and everyone else. But it was a good lesson and I didn’t try anything quite so rash again for a long time. Someone had already rushed to find a ladder and they helped me down. I was shaking all over, and oh! I was so afraid to let go of that rope at first." He shuddered. "Now do you see what I mean when I say showing off for the lasses can get you into huge trouble?” Paladin sighed. “And there’s nothing a’tall quite as humiliating as being hauled off by the ear in front of the one you were trying to impress, and scolded all the way for good measure.” Paladin chuckled ruefully. “Your mother still enjoys reminding me of that story every now and then when she thinks I’m being too single-minded or stubborn about something instead of listening to her. As for me, it’s always been something I’d much rather forget. So, now you know that your father was able to get himself into a goodly amount of mischief without much effort.”

Pippin eyed his father sceptically. “You did all that just to get Mum’s attention?”

“Don’t look so surprised, lad. I’ll wager you know exactly what I’m talking about but you don’t want to admit it.” Paladin slanted a mock look of disapproval at his son and was rewarded with a delighted laugh.

“Now, if we may get back to the more serious portion of our talk.”

“But I was enjoying hearing about your mischief. How about another tale?”

“Uh, no. Another time perhaps.” The pair fell silent for a few moments. Finally Paladin asked, “You’ve surely noticed the way your cousin likes to be with Estella Bolger every moment of his free time these days?”

Pippin nodded. More than you can even know Da. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“He holds her hand, and enjoys strolling with her, just the two of them. He steals a kiss every now and then when she allows him to, and when he thinks no one is looking, I’ll wager.”

“Yes, and he likes to leave me behind,” Pippin grumbled.

“Well now, soon you’ll have the same kind of feelings, if you don’t already. And then there’s the way your body begins to react when you look at a lass. Well, that’s common too, and to be expected.” Paladin peered at him. “Is any of this making sense to you?”

Pippin nodded again and felt his cheeks getting warm.

“Well, when that starts happening then it means other things will as well. You may notice something different about your dreams. They may become very vivid and be just about lasses and nothing else.” Pippin’s eyes widened and Paladin smiled, considering for a moment before he continued.

“I'm sure you’ll wake up to find your bed a bit soggy on occasion, especially after one of those dreams. Those are the times when it’s a great deal easier to change the linens yourself, rather than letting your mum do it.” He winked, and Pippin found himself nodding in agreement. Paladin was quiet for a moment, finally asking, “Umm, have you started getting hard yet, you know, down there, when you think about a particular lass?”

Pippin choked at the unexpected query. He could barely stand to think about some of these things himself, in his ownhead, and now his father was asking him if he ever got hard? His back stiffened and he stared straight ahead, face flaming, uncertain how to reply.

Paladin’s expression softened. “Don’t be embarrassed, lad. It’s natural. It happens to all male hobbits. And it’s a good feeling so there’s not a thing unusual about enjoying it, or about wanting it to happen all the more.” Paladin chuckled. “Mark my word, there’ll be many times when, try as you may, you simply won’t be able to get your mind on anything else!”

Well, that part sounded true enough, at least. Pippin began to relax a little.

“So when you study the lasses up close, if you know what I mean,” at this Paladin winked again, “you’ll. . .” he stopped and considered, “Well, you’ll find that there’s another part of you that seems to. . . ahem. . . be developing a will of it’s own and almost acts separately from the rest of your sensibilities. Sort of like having a. . . umm. . . a second brain!” Paladin chuckled awkwardly at his jest and his face reddened, but he pressed on. “Those are the times when taking a cool bath can help quite a lot.”

“Really?” Pippin looked at his father askance.

“Aye.” Paladin nodded firmly. “So when this part of you gets in the habit of taking up all your attention you’re likely to feel you’ve simply got to find a release. Now, there are things you can be doing about this and things you can’t, and it’s very important that you understand the difference so you don’t get yourself, or a lass for that matter, into any sort of trouble. Do you understand a little of what I’m trying to say, lad?”

Pippin nodded uneasily, his mind chattering incessant questions that he was afraid to voice. No, I don’t think I really understand what you’re saying at all. Sweet Eru’s ghost! I think I liked it better when you were having a hard time talking about all this. And just how do I get a lass in trouble or keep her out of it? What about me? I have enough problems staying out of trouble all on my own, thank you very much!

“Good! Why don’t you ask me some questions?” Pippin shook his head slowly from side to side. Paladin looked at him with a puzzled frown. “You must have some questions, son. Don’t be afraid to ask me anything.”

I’d like to ask you when this discussion is going to be over, but that’s all. Pippin darted his eyes around, looking everywhere but at his father.

“Well, I realise I haven’t explained certain things all that well yet. Let me see if I can make what I said a little plainer for you. Then perhaps you’ll have questions. Now, as I mentioned, there are some things that can help and are perfectly all right to do, and they don’t necessarily involve cool baths or extra chores…”

Pippin blushed furiously while his father continued speaking in a calm and soothing voice, but soon found himself listening with interest. He was finally on the verge of asking a hesitant question when a piercing shriek filled the air. Father and son were on their feet in an instant racing towards the waggon as the cry for help came again, louder still.

Turning Points

Chapter Six

“Daisies and Dreams”

Paladin shot to his feet like a stone from a sling and Pippin tore after him, clambering up to his seat only a moment before his father started the waggon rolling. They headed back up the lane at a fair clip, Paladin urging the pony to a fast trot, arriving back at the neighbouring farm to find Petunia Burrows standing in the middle of the farmyard shrieking while hobbits young and old came on the run.

“What ever is wrong, Petunia?” Togo Burrows had just made it to his wife’s side and was trying to calm her long enough to find out what was wrong.

“Oh! Oh, I can’t find Daisy, Togo she’s gone! I left her for only a moment while I put the clothesbasket inside the house. She must have wandered away, but I’ve been looking for her everywhere!” Pippin felt a cold chill creep up his back. He watched the frantic mother with an increasing sense of disquiet and glanced around, but saw no sign of the missing child.

“Where did you see her last?” Togo was scanning the wide pastures, hand shading his eyes from the noonday sun.

“Just over there.” Petunia gestured at the swing that was suspended from the large elder near the clothesline. “She was lying on her stomach across the swing, and causing it to spin around with her.” Her attempt at a chuckle turned into a sob.

Togo embraced her. “We’ll find her, my dear, don’t fret so. Surely she’s close at hand.”

“She likes to smell the flowers in Mum’s flowerbed,” Violet told them, pointing, “and pull the petals off the yellow daisies.” She was the next to eldest of the Burrow’s seven children, and had already started to run in that direction. Everyone followed but as they rounded the corner of the big farmhouse it was apparent Daisy was not playing in the flowers.

“Come, we’ll go this way,” Paladin nodded at his son, “and why don’t some of you go in the opposite direction?”

“Aye, and the rest of you split up and go everywhere in between,” Togo said. “Lads,” he nodded at his two eldest sons, “you go to check about the barn and the pony stalls,” he pointed at his daughter Begonia, “and lass, you go and look around the back meadow and the goat pen.”

They hurried off and Paladin trotted away with Pippin in tow. “There’s a well, boy,” Paladin said in a low voice, after they’d walked for several minutes. He gestured at the stone structure squatting near their path. “Let’s have a look around there first.” Pippin noted the grimace on his father’s face and understood immediately. Oh, surely the wee lass hadn’t. . .he shivered at the thought.

Thankfully, there was no sign Daisy had been there; the bucket still hung out of reach on the gnarled rope, and it looked as though the stones were too smooth and flat for the child to climb. Nevertheless, Paladin leaned over the side and gazed down at the dark water far below. There was no evidence of the child. Breathing sighs of relief, father and son continued along the path.

“It seems to me she wouldn’t have had time to get very far,” Paladin mused, pausing to look around the meadow. “But, children do surprise us sometimes.” He winked at his son and Pippin rolled his eyes at the good-natured teasing. “Perhaps we should separate and look in opposite directions? That way we can cover twice as much ground.”

“Then I’ll go that way.” Pippin gestured to his left.

“Be sure to sing out if you see any sign of her,” Paladin said, and Pippin nodded before darting off towards the orchard.

It wasn’t long before he came to the descending path strewn with flat, smooth stones. Pippin had been this way before. He could hear the water trickling between the rocks; the earthy scent of the pond’s muddy edge tickled his nose. It was the kind of place he’d always been drawn to and now he paused briefly to drink in the heady scents and the sound of nature’s music. Something brightly coloured drew his attention and he stooped to retrieve a battered yellow daisy. Pippin grinned, casting a look about before finally noticing the shower of delicate petals near his feet. His grin widened and he was about to call out when a shriek sent him running. Daisy was next to the pond lying on the grass when he found her. The child was inching closer to the water, stretching out an arm to reach a lily that peeked from below the lip of the bank, and chortling and squealing contentedly to herself.

“Daisy! Don’t move!” Pippin dashed over, pulling her back from the water’s edge.

“Pip’n!” she squeaked with delight and clapped her chubby hands together.

“Yes, it’s Pippin,” he agreed, giving her a mock frown as he scooped her up. “You’ve given your mum a dreadful fright, young hobbit!” He settled the child on his hip. “We must get you back to her straight away.”

“Mummy!” Daisy giggled and patted him on the nose with her grubby fingers.

Pippin looked cross-eyed at the dab of mud on the end of his nose, eliciting more squeals of delight. “Just what were you up to, hmm?” Pippin jostled her up and down in his arms as they started back.

“Flow’r,” she chortled, patting his cheek and smearing more mud on him.

Pippin wrinkled up his nose at the odour. “Aye, flowers, you were picking flowers, were you?” Daisy bobbed her head, looking serious. “I know, because you left a trail of petals that helped me find you! But it’s time to go home so your mum and da won’t worry any longer,” Pippin chuckled, but felt a chill recalling the scene he had come upon. The thought of his dream and the crying child calling for his help was especially unnerving after finding Daisy so close to falling in the pond. Pushing the thought away he started to trot, anxious to reunite the lass with her family.

Daisy squealed in delight, “Pony! Pip’n pony!”

Pippin snorted at the comparison. “So, you think I’m a pony now, do you?”

Daisy squealed again, “Run fas’er!”

“Faster? You want me to run faster with my arms full of a big lass like you?”

“Fas’er!”

Pippin spotted his father up ahead with the eldest of the Burrows’ children. “Da! Tolo! Look, I found her!”

Shouts of joy greeted the pair as Pippin handed the child to her mother a few minutes later. After Petunia finished hugging a very mud-spattered Daisy and weeping over her, she pulled Pippin into her arms and embraced him until he could barely breathe. “Thank you for finding her, Pippin,” she whispered in his ear, “you are a dear lad.” She planted a kiss on top of his head as the rest of the searchers, having heard the call that the missing child was found, returned to find the happy sight.

“Well, and I’d say someone needs a good wash,” Paladin teased, wiping a bit of the mud from his son’s cheek with his thumb. “You look almost as bad as if you’d been out in the pigsty.” He turned to their neighbors with a wave. “We must be getting on our way. It looks like there are two children who need a bath. Thank goodness everything worked out fine.”

“Thanks, Pad, for your help, and thank you, Pippin!” Togo ruffled Pippin’s hair. “Your father’s right, you do look like you’ve been out paying the piggies a visit!” Pippin rolled his eyes at the good-natured teasing.

“Goodbye Mr Burrows, Mrs Burrows! Bye Daisy!” Pippin waved at everyone and joined his father who was already seated in the waggon.

“Pip’n!” Daisy screeched, then laughed.

“Well, it looks like you’ve an admirer now in that wee lass,” Paladin chuckled. “I’m very proud of you for finding her, lad.”

Pippin shrugged. “I was just lucky, I suppose. I was walking in the right direction and there she was.” He shivered and Paladin looked at him, curious.

“Oh,” he explained, “she was at the edge of the pond reaching in for a water lily. It did give my stomach quite a turn when I saw her. I thought she was about to fall in the water.”

“Ah, well then, no wonder. ‘Tis a frightening experience to see a little one in danger. Reminds me of when you were just a faunt. As a matter of fact, I think your adventuring began even before you could walk, and it hasn’t let up yet,” Paladin chuckled.

“Oh?” Pippin raised an eyebrow.

“Now, don’t try to look so innocent, my boy. Your escapades could put Daisy’s little jaunt to shame in a hurry. Ah, if I had a Shire penny for every time you gave your mum and me a fright like that when you were her age, why I’d have a great deal of money!” He reached over and patted his knee and Pippin gave him a sheepish grin. They travelled in companionable silence for a short time before Paladin spoke again. “Peregrin, about our discussion. Is there anything you’d like to ask? You looked like you were about to say something when all the commotion started.”

Pippin felt his face growing warm as he recalled their earlier conversation and the question he’d been about to bring up. “Umm. . . I. . .well. . .” He studied his mud-spattered feet intently.

Paladin’s expression softened. “Why don’t you take a deep breath and just come out with it? Instead of thinking about it so much.”

Pippin darted a look at his father from beneath his lashes. He continued staring at his feet, but mumbled at last, “I was wondering about. . .if I feel, umm, good. . .ah, enthusiastic. . . when I. . .when I look at a lass that I’m fond of. . .well, what happens to her? Does she. . .” Pippin gulped and blurted out the rest of his question, “does she feel good in the same way when she looks at me? I mean I know they’re different from lads, but don’t they feel good too, especially when they see lads watching them? They always smile back at me, anyway. If they notice I’m looking, that is.” Pippin sighed, wistful. “It seems like every time I’m with lasses I start to feel that way. Umm, but not when I’m around my sisters, of course,” he hastened to add, face flaming now.

Paladin stifled his chuckle with a cough. “Yes, well, I believe that a lass probably does have some good feelings at times like those, especially if you happen to be a lad she’s taken a shine to. But, her body won’t react in quite the same way yours does.”

“I know that lasses are different, Da!” Pippin rolled his eyes.  “But will she, umm. . .feel good? In a way similar to what I’m feeling? You know, will her. . .” Pippin paused before rushing ahead, “will her body feel good like mine does? In whatever way that lasses get?”

Paladin considered the question. “Well. . .your mother told me once that a lass feels all warm inside at times like those. So, I believe the answer is yes, but once again, not in quite the same way as it is for a lad.” Paladin noted the look of confusion and tried once more. “Pippin, you’re right when you say lads are different. And one way they are is that at your age your body is busy discovering all sorts of new feelings and many of them are coming to your attention in a very physical way. With lasses. . .well, it seems to be the opposite. They may have all these wonderful feelings for a lad, but their bodies haven’t caught up yet. In other words, they like the way the lads make them feel, but it doesn’t cause a physical reaction. Instead, I think it’s more about the feelings they have in their minds. Does that make sense to you?”

“In a way, I suppose.” Pippin wrinkled his brow in thought. “What you’re saying is they fall in love first? And that’s what makes them feel good. Instead of. . .you know. . .?”

“Yes indeed, that does sound right to me. Very good, Pippin! I think you’re starting to understand.”

“I don’t feel like I understand much of anything.”

“Give it time and you will.” Paladin laughed. “One day you’ll have a lad of your own and you’ll see things in an entirely different way. And he’ll probably drive you to distraction while he’s still a wee one and you’ll know what I was talking about earlier, as well.” Paladin draped an arm around his son’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m truly proud of you for locating that child so quickly. Why, it’s almost as if you knew exactly where to look.”

Pippin froze at the words of praise. He thought about what had happened, how he’d felt drawn in that direction, and the way his surroundings had reminded him of . . . His mind raced, a stark contrast to his outer demeanor of quiet reflection. The dream. What had happened at the pond reminded him of his dream. Not precisely, but the tone was similar. He thought about what Frodo had told him regarding the fire at Brandy Hall when his cousin was a youth. What exactly was this ‘Sight’? Should he say anything? Pippin gazed sidelong at his father, deciding to hold his tongue. He’d heard his da and Aunt Esmie speaking in low voices about it once or twice, and it seemed as though it were something they didn’t discuss openly.

Paladin pretended not to notice Pippin’s furtive glances in his direction and tried to lighten the mood. He began to sing one of his favourite old songs and smiled when his son joined in.

Upon the hearth the fire is red,

Beneath the roof there is a bed;

But not yet weary are our feet,

Still round the corner we may meet

A sudden tree or standing stone

That none have seen but we alone.

Tree and flower and leaf and grass,

Let them pass! Let then pass!

Hill and water under sky,

Pass them by! Pass them by!

Still round the corner there may wait

A new road or a secret gate,

And though we pass them by today,

Tomorrow we may come this way

And take the hidden paths that run

Towards the Moon or to the Sun.

Apple, thorn, and nut and sloe,

Let them go! Let them go!

Sand and stone and pool and dell,

Fare you well! Fare you well!

Home is behind, the world ahead,

And there are many paths to tread

Through shadows, to the edge of night,

Until the stars are all alight.

Then world behind and home ahead,

We’ll wander back to home and bed.

Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,

Away shall fade! Away shall fade!

Fire and lamp, and meat and bread,

And then to bed! And then to bed!

“Oh, I do love that song,” Paladin shook his head. “It makes me think of dear old Cousin Bilbo. How I miss him at times.”

“I do too, although I don’t remember him all that well.”

“You were quite young when he left, but it seems you remember his songs.”

“I’ve heard you sing them often enough, so how could I forget?” Pippin grinned.

“Yes indeed,” Paladin nodded. “And I can think of another of Bilbo’s songs that is most appropriate to the situation.” His eyes twinkled merrily as he leaned over and plucked some of the dried mud off Pippin’s cheek. “Do you know which one I mean?”

Pippin considered for a moment and then broke into a huge grin and started to sing loudly.

Sing hey! For the bath at close of day

That washes the weary mud away!

A loon is he that will not sing:

O! Water Hot is a noble thing!

Paladin laughed heartily and joined in. They travelled the rest of the way home seemingly carefree. As he pulled the waggon to a stop in front of the barn Pippin turned to him, suddenly serious.

“Da? You said I could have the rest of the day free after this. Is that still true?” Paladin nodded, although a feeling of hesitation nudged him. Pippin’s mood seemed to have shifted rather quickly again and he was at a loss to understand just what was going through the boy’s head. “Thanks, Da!” Pippin wasted no time and leaped to the ground, sprinting away. Paladin watched him go with a bemused frown.

~~~

Late into the night he was still trying to fall asleep. Pippin tossed from one side of the bed to the other, sometimes draping his arms over the edge, other times lying on his stomach. He put his pillow at the foot of the bed, disturbing Lily who hopped down tossing her young master a look of annoyance before padding away. Dizzy looked up from his spot on the rug and snorted, then rested his head between his paws once more. It was a very long time before he drifted off.  Later, the dreams came again.

The sound of rushing water assaulted his sensitive ears and he whirled around seeking the source. Peering into the black night he thought he saw a crack of light somewhere far ahead and started towards it. The sky grew pale with the sunrise and as he walked he realised he was at the Burrows’ farm. He noticed the old well and felt drawn to it with a terrible sense of dread. Standing on tiptoe he stared into its depths and startled when he heard the merry laughter.

You’re looking in the wrong place. Come closer. . .

What? Pippin twirled in a circle but saw no one. Where are you? The laughter continued. It wasn’t threatening. It was pleasant and now he was intrigued. He started walking again and soon found himself standing at the edge of the pond where Daisy had been. But this time he was alone, and all was silent in the gray dawn. He looked about, growing puzzled. The air grew oppressive with the dampness and he was sweating profusely. The laughter came again.

I’m not here. Keep searching, don’t give up.

Then where are you? Pippin stared down into the pond and slowly the waters began to roil and then a current developed. He knew that was impossible for this was a pond. . .but now the pond was a river and as it churned, the water grew murky. The ground beneath his feet softened into mud and he slipped and almost fell. The voice came to him from afar this time, and there was no more laughter. The child cried out to him for help.

Pippin wandered through the half familiar countryside, ill at ease. There were voices, whispers in the night, and they bid him come closer. He wanted to run but found it was impossible and he continued as if pulled along by an invisible thread. The child was wailing now, beseeching him to find her before it was too late. . .

But I don’t know where you are! Help me. Show me what to do!

Find me. . .know me. . .make haste. . .

I DON’T KNOW HOW!

He tried to run but only sank deeper into the mire, the mud was cold and it pulled him down, and then he was falling. . .

Pippin awoke with a start and a yelp of pain to find he was on the floor next to his bed. Shaking, he pulled his knees up to his chin and hugged himself into a ball, weeping silently. Only Dizzy was aware of his misery and he crept over to his young master and curled up on Pippin’s feet with a whine of distress.

~~~

“Well, you’re up bright and early,” Eglantine exclaimed as her youngest joined her in the kitchen that morning. “I wasn’t going to waken you children for awhile yet.” She covered the pot of water she’d set on the cook stove to boil and turned, drying her hands on her apron as she watched her son stumble to the table and drop into a chair.

Pippin nodded and yawned, reaching for the pitcher of water. He muttered under his breath when he almost tipped the whole thing over, then spilled some on the table and down his shirt. He set the pitcher down with a thump and a heavy sigh and snatched up a towel to scrub at the puddle in front of him, then became even crosser when he dragged his sleeve through the mess. Pippin slung the towel away and rested his head in his hands. He felt almost like weeping but didn’t know why. The shadow of the disturbing dream lay upon him like a sodden blanket that he was unable to creep out from under.

“Mercy, Pippin,” Eglantine clucked as she retrieved the wet towel and finished mopping up the water and then handed him a dry one for his shirt. He accepted it glumly and swiped at his sleeve. “Are you feeling under the weather, dear?” Eglantine brushed the hair out of his eyes and laid her hand on his brow feeling for a temperature. “You don’t feel warm, but--”

Pippin grimaced and shrugged away. “Mum, I’m not sick. Will you please stop fussing over me?”

“Hmph.” Eglantine returned to her task at the stove. “It appears someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

“More like on the floor.”

“What was that, Pippin?”

“Nothing, I just wish you wouldn’t treat me like I was twelve, that’s all.”

“And here I was thinking you’d be in a wonderful mood since Merry and Berilac will be arriving today.”

“Oh! I forgot!” Pippin grinned, his mood lifting at this news.

“That’s right. They should be here by lunchtime I should think, and I believe they’re bringing along some others. We simply can’t have too much help at the moment.”

“Well, I’m glad they’re coming. It’ll be nice to have someone else around besides lasses and farmhands.”

“I know, dear. You need a few lads to while away some of your time with. But don’t forget we’ve plenty of work to do with the harvest, so you’ll all be busy.”

“I don’t care if we’re working. At least I’ll have someone else to talk to. And I haven’t seen Merry since. . .” Pippin paused, remembering the night of the harvest celebration and what had happened, “. . . since the party.”

Eglantine’s heart softened at his look of distress and she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Yes, it will be very nice to see Merry again, as well as the others.” She tilted his chin and peered into the soft green eyes. “You haven’t had any more of those bad dreams since then, have you?” Pippin’s face clouded over and he was trying to decide how to reply when the door banged open and his father pushed through it, a milk pail in each hand.

“Here, give me a hand, lad, will you?” Pippin jumped up to help, with a sigh of relief at the unexpected reprieve. He grabbed one of the pails and carried it to the sink, grunting as he struggled to lift it up.

“Did our son tell you about finding the Burrows’ faunt yesterday, Tina?” Paladin grinned and gave him a hand, then ruffled Pippin’s hair before turning back to the sink. He missed the scowl that Pippin shot him, but Eglantine did not. She looked at Pippin, puzzled.

“Why no, he didn’t. What happened?”

“You didn’t tell your mother? Why, I should think you’d have been pleased to say something about it. ‘Twas quite exciting, after all.”

Pippin groaned. He was sure his father was going to have him recounting the story to everyone, embarrassing him with praise. “It was nothing. I found Daisy, that’s all.”

“Ah, but there was a little more of a story to it, wasn’t there, Pip?” Paladin laughed, gesturing at his wife. “Go on, tell your mum. ‘Twill give her a smile.”

“I really don’t feel like talking about it,” Pippin said stiffly, and moved across the kitchen to stare out the window. There wasn’t anything to see as the sun had not risen yet, but he didn’t care. He wished they would just leave off for now.

Paladin turned from the sink and leaned against it, drying his hands on a towel. “And what, may I ask, has put you in such a foul mood this morning?” Pippin didn’t answer. Instead, he left the room without another word, and disappeared down the corridor, leaving his parents to trade looks of astonishment. Paladin’s face darkened and he tossed the towel aside and hurried after him.

“Pad, no. Let him go.” Eglantine tugged on his arm.

“No, Tina. I’m going to have a talk with him. I’ll not tolerate disrespect, he knows that. Something’s wrong and I want to find out what it is.”

Pippin reached his room and slammed the door. It felt good and he wished he dared to do it again. Instead, he went to stare out the window. The Sun had yet to expose her fair face, and his heart felt even heavier as he watched his own reflection looking intently back at him in the smooth glass. He grimaced, listening to the sound of footsteps hastening down the hall - not that he’d thought for a moment his father would let him get away with his behaviour. But now Da would insist he talk about what was bothering him and he simply could not.

Paladin didn’t bother knocking. He swung the door open and strode into the room. Pippin rested his arms on the windowsill, ignoring him. “Just what was that all about?” Pippin tensed but remained quiet. Paladin watched him for a moment before taking a seat on the bed. Neither of them spoke and several minutes passed. Finally, Paladin cleared his throat, “Peregrin, I don’t have a great deal of time this morning to play your game of stubbornness. I want you to turn around and speak to me.”

“I don’t want to talk right now, Da,” Pippin said. His voice chose that moment to break and his reply came out in several distorted octaves. Pippin stamped his foot in anger, wanting to throw something. Instead, he released a ragged sob and then tried immediately to silence it. Paladin went to him, scooping him into his strong arms as if he were still a child. He sank onto the bed holding him close. Pippin crumbled at his caring touch and sobbed, burying his head in his father’s shoulder.

“Shh, now,” Paladin soothed, rocking him as if he were an infant. “Tell me what’s wrong lad, so I can help.” Pippin only sobbed harder. Paladin waited patiently until at last his son spoke.

“Dreams. . .bad dreams. . .”