Not too long ago, I wrote a story in which Legolas tried smoking. The story is called “A Brief History of Smoking” and it was one of my “12 Days Challenge stories” written for the “Eleven Pipers Piping” verse. In that story there is a small mention of the first time that Pippin smoked a pipe. This is the full story of that event. You don’t have to read, “A Brief History of Smoking” in order to read this one, but for those of you who wondered about Pippin’s advice to Legolas, this is the explanation behind it. - G.W.

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From “A Brief History of Smoking”

Legolas looked over at Pippin who was practically in his lap and asked, “Do you also have advice for me?”

“Try very hard not to set anything on fire,” Pippin said, softly.

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Pippin is 22, Merry is 30 and Frodo is 44.

“Fire in the Hole”

“Please, Merry,” Pippin begged. “I’m old enough. I have been for ever so long and it’s hardly fair that no one will allow me to.”

Merry frowned and continued to puff on his pipe, ignoring Pippin he looked over at me and said, “Do you suppose that there is anywhere in all of the Shire where I can get a bit of peace and quiet and enjoy a relaxing smoke?”

I smiled at him and watched as Pippin sank into the chair nearest the fireplace and sighed deeply. “Fine. I shall be the only hobbit in the entire Shire that doesn’t smoke. I nearly am as it is.”

“My mum doesn’t smoke and she’s a hobbit,” Merry responded, puffing on his own pipe.

“Sod it all, Merry, you know perfectly well what I mean,” Pippin growled and sank lower in his chair, folding his arms over his chest.

I lit my own pipe and waited. I was very sure that more was coming. With these two, more was always coming.

“I’m twenty-two years old and I have never been allowed to smoke a pipe,” Pippin muttered. “It’s disgraceful is what it is.”

“I’m not your father, you know,” Merry sighed. “I’m not the one that you need permission from in order to smoke.”

“Frodo,” Pippin began but I quickly cut him off.

“Don’t think of involving me in this discussion. Pretend that I’m not here,” I suggested.

“That’s typical,” Pippin said, trying to bait me. “You never will involve yourself in anything important.”

“Maybe Frodo doesn’t think that this is important,” Merry said, blowing a smoke ring and watching it float in Pippin’s direction.

Merry was doing a bit of baiting himself at the moment and Pippin was slowly losing his temper. I was about to be in the middle of another of their squabbles.

“Not important?” Pippin shot back, sitting up and glaring at Merry. “So it isn’t important if I don’t know how to smoke a pipe properly! It isn’t important that everyone teases me and makes sport at my expense because neither of my worthless older cousins will teach me to smoke! Fine!”

I tried not to smile. Pippin kept saying ‘fine’ in the same tone of voice that one might utter the most unacceptable profanity and it was mightily amusing. I tried to look elsewhere as Merry sighed heavily and said, “No one taught me how to smoke. In fact, no one gave me permission to smoke either come to think on it.”

I cleared my throat a bit as a reminder to Merry that I was still in the room. I, after all, knew that he wasn’t exactly being truthful at the moment. I was the one who had allowed him to smoke for the first time and whether or not he is willing to admit it, there was some instruction required. He looked at me and winked, in an effort to get me to allow him to continue tormenting Pippin without interruption, while across the room, Pippin began to pace.

“Fine! You began smoking on your own and you knew exactly how it was done right from the beginning! I always knew you were an utter genius,” Pippin snorted sarcastically. He threw Merry, what I am sure he suspected to be a fierce glare, but which came off as more of an insulted pout. I struggled to stay out of the matter and not to laugh by biting down on the end of my own pipe.

“Why don’t you find someplace to land?” Merry sighed, waving a hand at Pippin. “You are more annoying than a swarm of bees, buzzing around the room the way that you are.”

Pippin stopped directly in front of Merry’s chair and folded his arms over his chest for the millionth time. “And you are a terrible older cousin! If you had any sense about you, you’d teach me to smoke for your own sake.”

Now Merry was having trouble maintaining that bored, ‘I don’t care’ look that he had assumed and which he usually carried off so very well. I could tell that he was trying not to laugh now also, but Pippin didn’t notice and continued with his tirade. “You sit there all smug if you like, but everyone knows that it is your responsibility to teach me to smoke! Folks know that you aren’t tending to your responsibilities! If you want folks to say unkind things about the way you conduct yourself then it is fine with me!”

There was that word again, ‘fine’ and I bit my lower lip hard enough to draw blood and looked at my lap. Pippin’s anger always amused me in some way that I couldn’t explain fully.

“Teach you to smoke for my sake?” Merry sputtered. “Now, that is the most unusual way of persuading me that you have tried yet.”

“Did it work at all?” Pippin asked, turning hopeful eyes on Merry and causing both of us to break into laughter.

“Fine! Laugh all you like,” Pippin said in an injured tone, turning his back on us while we struggled to control ourselves.

Merry was practically falling out of his chair. “You are hopeless, Pippin,” he managed between whoops of laughter. “Utterly hopeless!”

I snickered and looked over at Merry and said, “Did it work at all?” and then both of us went on another laughing spree while Pippin seethed. I knew that we shouldn’t tease him so but I simply couldn’t make myself behave today.

“I hope you both choke!” Pippin said, and left the room. Merry and I continued to laugh for several more minutes until my stomach hurt.

“You are a dreadful cousin, you know,” I said, when I had regained my breath.

“I know,” Merry said, looking quite proud of himself. “I learned the art from you.”

“Don’t blame this on me,” I objected.

“No, not you,” Merry said, looking down his rather prominent nose at me. “No, you would have never treated me like that.”

I snickered in spite of my resolve not to do so and shrugged. “I might have done something like that a time or two. I don’t really recall.”

“Yes, well, you are quite old and forgetful,” Merry said, grinning. He stood and removed a small package from his trouser pocket. “ How long do you suppose it will be before Pippin returns?”

“You think he will, do you?” I asked.

“I know him,” Merry grinned. “He’ll have to have a last word or three. He’ll be back directly.”

“He had the last word,” I reminded Merry.

“Yes, but he’s a Took,” Merry reminded me. “One last word isn’t enough for the likes of them.”

I grinned. “What’s that you have there?” I asked, indicating the package, though I suspected that I knew what it was.

“Nothing,” Merry replied, returning it to his pocket and smiling at me.

“I just want you both to know that I am through taking this sort of treatment from both of you!” It was Pippin and he was back with a vengeance. He stormed into the room and began to rant at us. I watched as Merry sat down in his chair again and yawned. “I don’t have to put up with it and I am not going to! It is perfectly fine by me if the two of you never get spoken to by me ever again!”

In his anger, Pippin had lapsed into a bit of Pippish, a word Merry and I use to describe Pippin’s unusual speech patterns, and it was not making it any easier for me to hold my laughter in check. Merry was doing better. He yawned again, which only made Pippin angrier.

“You do this sort of thing to amuse yourselves at my expense and it isn’t funny at all!” Pippin continued. “I don’t know why I’ve put up with it this long and I am not putting up with it any longer! I hope you are very happy without me because that is what you are going to be!” He turned to storm off and Merry cleared his throat. Pippin stopped and turned. He glared at Merry, daring him to say anything and waited.

“So, I don’t suppose that you’d be at all interested in learning to smoke then, would you?” Merry asked. “I mean, you’d hardly want me to teach you since you plan to have nothing to do with me in the future.”

Pippin struggled to hold onto his anger. I watched him try to remain firm in his resolve to leave us on our own. He fisted his hands at his sides and gritted his teeth together while glaring at Merry. Merry smiled at him and said, “You are terrible at being angry.”

Pippin furrowed his brow and looked startled. “I am not!”

“Yes, you are,” Merry said, smiling wider. “You always make me laugh when you get angry.”

“Oh, fine,” Pippin said and I instantly sputtered, releasing a laugh. Why did he have to keep saying fine?

“See?” Merry said, pointing to me. “Frodo thinks you’re funny when you’re angry too. Don’t you Frodo?”

I groaned. “I’m afraid so, Pippin,” I admitted.

He sniffed, insulted and tapped his foot on the floor. “I am very happy that you both think I’m so funny!”

Merry stood again and removed the little package from his pocket. “Here. Call it a thank you gift for all of the amusement that you’ve given me over the last twenty-two years.” He extended the package toward Pippin who looked at it warily.

“What is it?” Pippin asked, not taking it, but moving closer to Merry.

“Open it and see,” Merry suggested.

“I shouldn’t, you know,” Pippin said, still looking a bit injured by our teasing.

Merry shrugged and moved to return the item to his pocket, but Pippin was faster, taking hold of it quickly and beginning to tear off the wrapping while Merry chuckled. “A pipe!” Pippin crowed. He then looked crossly at Merry. “You had this all along?”

Merry smirked. “I guess I did.”

Pippin seemed to consider this for a minute and then he grinned at Merry. “Well, I suppose it’s all right then. You were just teasing me a bit.” Pippin looked down at the pipe in his hand and smiled, running a finger over the rim of the bowl.

“Just a bit,” Merry smiled. “Now, do you want me to show you how to smoke that or would you like to stand there and admire it all afternoon?”

Pippin grinned widely. “Show me.”

“First, you have to learn how to properly fill it,” Merry said, taking on that older, wiser, cousin air of his while I watched from my chair.

“I know that bit,” Pippin supplied. “No one lets me smoke, but your father lets me fill his pipe for him and I’ve done Frodo’s before too.”

Merry looked at me as if I have violated some rule by this action. He seemed disappointed that Pippin was not completely clueless about pipes, but he recovered. “Well, that’s good then,” Merry said. He extends his own pouch in Pippin’s direction. “Fill it and then I’ll show you how to smoke it.”

Pippin accepted the pouch and carefully filled his new pipe while Merry looked on critically, watching for mistakes and seeing none. Pippin held up the pipe and said, “Now what?”

“Well, you have to light it, of course,” Merry said, taking the pipe from Pippin and pointing to the bowl of it. “You have to get the flame down in the bowl of the pipe just so and you puff on the pipe while you are lighting it. You puff gently so as not to put it out before it gets properly started, but you do puff a bit.”

Pippin nodded with interest, though I thought that Merry was being a bit too condescending at the moment. Merry was enjoying being the older cousin a bit too much just now and was too pompous for my taste, but Pippin didn’t seem to mind at all. All Pippin wanted was to smoke and he wasn’t interested in Merry attitude. Nothing mattered except the pipe. Merry handed the pipe back to Pippin who took it as if it might break and looked at it as if it were made of gold rather than wood. His eyes shone as he looked up at Merry expectantly.

“Since we’re here in the parlor and we have a lovely fire,” Merry said, making his way over to the fireplace. “We can use a bit of kindling to light you pipe.”

Pippin looked interested in this and I frowned. “Don’t you think this might go better if you simply let him use a flint?” I asked, trying to sound causal so that Merry would not become difficult, but apparently, I was not casual enough.

“Who is doing this?” Merry asked. When I didn’t reply, he turned back toward Pippin and said, “I’ll just get a piece of the kindling out of the box here and you can light your pipe directly from the fire.”

Pippin smiled as he and I watched Merry remove a long piece of kindling from the wood box. “This should do it,” Merry said, as he held aloft his selection. I was a trifle worried about this business, but I decided to say nothing. After all, Merry was the one who was teaching Pippin to smoke, not I. I had taught Merry and so I shouldn’t spoil this for Merry by butting in.

Merry handed the kindling to Pippin and said, “Now, stick the end of this into the fire and once it catches, you can use it to light your first pipe.”

Pippin grinned and took the kindling. Merry favored me with a quick glance just to make sure that I had no intention of interfering and then he watched as Pippin lit the kindling.

Now, I could see the trouble with this entire business, but everything seemed to be moving in slow motion and I seemed unable to do anything to stop it. The piece of kindling which Merry had selected for Pippin was a bit too long. It was going to be terribly awkward for Pippin to place the pipe in his mouth and then put the flame on the end of the kindling into the bowl of the pipe. Pippin’s arm was going to be way out to the side and he was going to have to aim the kindling at the pipe's bowl just so. I could hear Merry’s voice saying, “Now, while you’re lighting the pipe, remember to puff gently or you’ll blow it out before it gets going properly.”

“I will,” Pippin said, with the pipe between his teeth. The flame on the end of the kindling was going rather well and seemed a bit larger than it had a moment ago. The kindling was burning nicely as Pippin made an effort to aim for the pipe. I noticed that my youngest cousin’s eyes were crossing as he watched the flame while trying to maneuver it into his pipe. I watched as Pippin's excited green eyes moved closer together and his teeth tightened on the stem of the pipe. Merry was standing there looking over Pippin’s shoulder and leaning in close offering encouraging words, “That’s it, Pip.”

Suddenly, Pippin’s hand lost its way and bobbed upward sending the lit end of the kindling into Merry’s curls and I jumped from my seat and reached for my cup of tea, which was sitting on the table beside of my chair. Pippin was so intent on his pipe that he didn’t seem to notice that he had just set Merry’s hair on fire. Merry noticed it at once and let out with a yell just as I threw my blessedly cool cup of tea in his direction hitting both of my cousins.

“Frodo! What did you do that for?” Pippin objected, removing the pipe from his mouth and waving the still lit kindling about while I rushed forward to finish putting out the remaining blaze in Merry’s curls. “What is going on?” Pippin demanded as Merry continued to yell and I began to beat Merry on the head with a cushion that I had lifted off of the sofa. The tea had put out some of the flames but my aim had been less than perfect and I had doused Pippin also. With tea dripping off of the end of his sharp nose, Pippin turned around and somehow managed to set the hem of my waistcoat ablaze. Seeing what he had done, he dropped the kindling and grabbed one of Merry’s mum’s knitted blankets and wrapped it about me while the rug behind him began to burn where he had dropped the kindling.

“My hair!” Merry shrieked. The fire was out but he was inspecting his head with his fingers and not liking how it felt. Pippin was patting me down with the blanket and completely oblivious to the fire now raging behind him. Merry and I both saw the flames at the same instant and pulled Pippin toward us to keep him from catching fire also. The three of us fell to the floor in a tangled heap. I wound up in the blanket and laying on top of Merry with Pippin sprawled over both of us, still unaware that the rug behind him was on fire and that the fire was coming in our direction at an alarming rate. “Get off me!” Merry demanded from beneath the pile.

I tried to push Pippin to the side and away from the fire as he looked at me and said, “I think I dropped my pipe!”

‘That’s not all you dropped!” I shouted at him. “You’ve set the rug on fire!”

“Never mind that! He has burned my hair to a crisp!” Merry moaned.

“Merry! This smial is likely to go up in flames!” I yelled, finally succeeding in shoving Pippin off of me and gaining my feet. Just as I stood I was hit full in the face with a great deal of water. I noticed that the fire was out and that the air was filled with smoke. As I sputtered, I heard Merry’s father say, “ What are you three idiots doing in here?”

Pippin, also dripping wet and sitting on the floor looked up at him and said, “I think I’ve lost my new pipe.”

“You are also going to lose a great deal of blood in a few minutes!” Merry shouted. “You set my hair on fire!” He was struggling to reach Pippin who was scooting backward on the wet floor as Merry crawled toward him. I stood there dripping and looked at Merry’s father who was standing on the other side of what had been a very nice rug, holding an empty bucket. “Hold still so that I can kill you!” Merry shouted at Pippin.

“It was entirely your fault, Merry!” Pippin objected, scooting back a bit more and running into the wall. “This was your idea!”

‘My idea!” Merry shouted, his voice trembling with rage. “It was my idea to try and burn the smial down?”

Saradoc Brandybuck and I watched as the two of them began to wrestle on the floor amid the water and the smoke and the remains of the rug. I think both of us were in shock at that point, but Saradoc recovered as Merry pushed Pippin face down onto the floor and twisted his arm behind his back. “My pipe!” Pippin crowed, spotting it lying, unharmed and just out of his reach. He took his free arm, which he had been using to swat Merry with, and reached for the pipe while Merry continued to twist Pippin’s other arm. Saradoc gave a very loud whistle and both of them froze in place.

“Get up, both of you! This instant!” Saradoc shouted and Merry and Pippin quickly scrambled to their feet, Pippin still looking longingly at his new pipe.

Saradoc ignored me for the moment, which suited me quite well. It gave me a moment in which to see how close I had come to going up like a tinderbox. I ran my hand over what remained of my waistcoat and shirt on the right side and was relieved to see that my skin was only slightly pink. Beside of me, Saradoc surveyed the damage to Merry’s hair. “That was close, wasn’t it?” he observed as Merry made a noise which sounded a bit like a door hinge squeaking.

Pippin finally took his eyes off of his pipe and looked up at Merry. He rose up on his toes so that he could see Merry’s hair better and wrinkled his nose. “Smells dreadful,” he offered and Merry reached for his younger cousin’s throat with both hands. I watched as Saradoc pulled them apart and gave them each a shake.

“That’s enough out of both of you!” he said firmly. He was a very large hobbit and he was bigger than both of them. “Now, I want to know exactly what was going on here and I want no more nonsense, so Frodo, why don’t you explain all of this to me.”

As I gulped, wishing that I weren’t the oldest and dreading having to explain all of this, I heard Pippin ask him pleasantly, “May I get my pipe while he does that?”

The End

G.W. 03/20/2005