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Trust a Brandybuck and a Took!  by Grey Wonderer

This one is for Periantari because she asked for it and for Danachan on Merry and Pippin day. Happy birthday, Dana! Pippin is turning 22 and Merry is 30.

The Big Green Bottle

Amethyst stood with her back to the door of the Brandybuck’s cellar and fidgeted nervously as she listened to the rattling and thumping coming from within. “Hurry up or the deal is off,” she hissed through the crack in the door. “I am not getting caught over this.”

“I have to find the proper one,” a voice announced. “I want a really big one!”

“Well, you have two more minutes and then you are without a look-out because I am leaving,” she whispered loudly.

There was a crash, a thump and then a cry of triumph. “Found it!” There was more noise and then the sound of footsteps coming up the creaky old stairs toward the door. She felt the door move outward and she nearly lost her balance. Amethyst stepped out of the way and Peregrin Took came out of the cellar looking red-faced and rather dusty but very pleased with himself all the same. “I found it!” he crowed and he pushed an enormous bottle toward her.

Amethyst Brandybuck instantly began to sneeze as the thick coat of dust from the bottle's surface made a tiny cloud around her and around the bottle itself. “What is that?” she managed between sneezes.

“I think it’s the biggest bottle in the cellar,” Pippin grinned proudly. “I had to do a bit of digging around but it was worth the effort.” He coughed as some of the dust came his way. “This was hidden behind some wee bottles of port all the way at the back of the cellar.”

“You'd have done better to swipe the port,” Amethyst sniffled pulling her handkerchief from her apron pocket and giving a very unladylike snort into it.

“Those wee bottles were barely dusty at all and they were too small,” Pippin frowned.

“Why did you want the bottle to be dusty? Dust does not improve the quality of spirits,” Amethyst said.

“No, but age does,” Pippin smiled. “And the longer a bottle has been in the cellar untouched the more dust it collects. I am guessing that this is the best of the lot. Just look! You can’t even begin to read the label.” He held the bottle up again and the two of them peered at the dust-covered label. “That is one well-aged bottle of, well, of something,” Pippin observed.

Amethyst snorted and then extended a hand. “Fine, now if you will kindly pay me for my fine service as lookout and for providing you with the key to the cellar I’ll be on my way.”

“Just how did you get that key?” Pippin asked. Amethyst Brandybuck was a very clever lass and a good friend to have. She reminded Pippin of Merry in some ways.

“That is my secret, Peregrin Took,” she said still holding out her hand. “Now, payment is due.”

Pippin thrust the dusty bottle into her hands and then reached into his trouser pocket. He dug about for a minute or two and then, rather reluctantly he pulled out four silver pennies and handed them to her. She took them and pushed the bottle back into his hands. “I hope that whatever is in that bottle is worth this,” she sighed.

“It will be,” Pippin smiled. “I am sure Merry will know exactly what this is and that he will be very impressed with it.”

“Happy birthday, Pippin,” Amethyst smiled and then she quickly disappeared down the hall leaving Pippin alone with his dusty bottle.

Pippin removed his scarf and carefully wrapped it around the bottle before setting off on his own. He was humming as he made his way to his room. This was going to be a very special birthday indeed.

*****

Merry was amused by Pippin’s secrecy. His younger cousin was holding a large object behind his back and nearly bursting to present it to Merry. Pippin was usually rather casual about the gifts that he gave to Merry on his birthday but this year Pippin seemed to be very pleased with his selection. Merry was amused but he was also a bit nervous. Sometimes Pippin could get completely carried away. Merry did hope that his younger cousin had not spent too much on the gift. “Well, are you planning on giving me this very special gift or do you simply plan to stand there all night grinning at me?” Merry asked.

“This, Cousin, is my gift to you on the occasion of my twenty-second birthday,” Pippin said and he then removed the item from behind his back and sat it on the small parlor table with a loud thunk.

Merry’s eyes widened in surprise and he leaned forward to inspect the bottle. “Is this what I think it is?” Merry asked nervously.

“What do you think it is?” Pippin asked grinning and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“It looks like alcohol,” Merry said.

“That’s what it is,” Pippin said with pleasure.

“Where did you get this?” Merry demanded straightening up and glaring at Pippin.

“It is rude to ask where your gift comes from, Merry,” Pippin said looking offended. “You aren’t supposed to question the gift at all. You are just supposed to accept it. You have to accept it because it is very rude indeed to refuse a birthday gift.”

“I wasn’t going to refuse it,” Merry hissed. “But you aren’t old enough to purchase alcohol, Peregrin Took! In fact you shouldn’t be able to get your hands on anything like this for another three years.”

Pippin smiled. “It’s a gift. T’isn’t for me and so it’s all right. You’re old enough to have it.”

“Who sold you this?” Merry demanded.

“You’re being rude again,” Pippin warned raising a finger and pointing at Merry’s chest.

Merry scowled. He then looked at the large bottle again. He squinted at the label. “That can’t be the date this was bottled. Nothing is that old! This can’t have been bottled in 679!” He pointed to the bottle.

“It’s aged,” Pippin said pleasantly. “You told me yourself that the older it is the better it becomes. This has to be extremely good considering the date on the bottle.”

“But if this is correct then this bottle of spirits is older than Bilbo Baggins was when he left the Shire! It’s older than my parents combined ages. It’s older than the old Took would be if he were still alive. I didn’t know anyone bottled anything that long ago,” Merry said. “And what kind of bottle is this?”

“A big green one,” Pippin said stating the obvious.

“What’s in this?” Merry asked.

“You tell me,” Pippin said quickly. “You’ve always bragged that you know your drink and so when you’ve had a taste you tell me what you think it is and I’ll tell you if you’re right.”

“You don’t know what it is, do you?” Merry asked.

“Of course I do!” Pippin blushed. “Do you think I’d give you something without finding out what it is?” He shifted his weight from foot to foot and then grinned. “I’ll get the glasses!” Before Merry could stop him, Pippin hurried over to the mantle and removed two large milk glasses from its top and brought them over. He sat them down next to the big green bottle and smiled at Merry. “Do you want to pour or should I?”

“You are not drinking this,” Merry said firmly looking at the second glass.

“I am too!” Pippin objected. “It’s my birthday and besides that, it is the very rule that you made two years ago.”

“What rule did I make?” Merry frowned trying to remember what sort of nonsense he might have spouted.

“The time that Frodo gave you a bottle of the Old Winyards on his birthday and I wanted to have a drink with the two of you,” Pippin said. “You told me that I couldn’t have any until I was able to get my own. Frodo agreed. He said that when I was old enough to give alcohol as a gift then I would be allowed to drink it!”

“You aren’t old enough,” Merry said sternly.

“Then how do you explain this bottle of it?” Pippin asked folding his arms over his chest.

Merry frowned. “You bought this?”

Pippin thought of handing Amethyst the silver pennies in the hall and he nodded. “I did!” He had paid dearly for it in spite of the fact that he’d nicked it and so he supposed he’d bought it in a way.

Merry sighed. “One drink then,” he reluctantly agreed and he looked at the glasses and rolled his eyes. “Pippin, these are not the sort of glasses that a Hobbit drinks alcohol from. These are milk glasses from my mum’s kitchen.”

“Those were all I could find,” Pippin mumbled looking slightly embarrassed.

“Very well,” Merry shrugged. “We’ll make do.” He reached over and took the bottle in hand and very carefully removed the cork. There was a loud pop and a tiny bit of the liquid bubbled out of the bottle onto Merry’s hand. Merry raised the hand to his nose and sniffed it. His eyes actually watered. “This is rather strong, Pippin,” he said as he carefully pour two inches into the bottom of each glass and then sat the bottle down.

Pippin smiled. “That’s good, isn’t it? I mean, you don’t want to drink weak spirits do you?”

“I suppose not,” Merry said with a trace of doubt in his voice. “You just be careful and sip this, don’t gulp it. We may be using milk glasses but this is most assuredly not milk.”

Pippin grinned and nodded. “Do I make a toast?” he asked raising his glass.

“No, it’s your birthday and so I make the toast,” Merry said. He frowned as if thinking it over and then raised his glass and said, “To my cousin, Pippin on the occasion of the eve of his twenty-second birthday! I thank him for this generous gift and I wish him a very happy twenty-second year!”

Pippin raised his glass to meet Merry’s and they clinked them together once and then drank carefully.

Merry winced as he swallowed his first drink and his eyes watered some more. The taste of the drink burned his throat and seemed to sear the tiny hairs in his nose. Across from him, Pippin was coughing and turning a green shade that resembled the bottle.

“Smooth going down, isn’t it?” Pippin managed after his coughing had died away.

“Smooth is not the word I might have chosen,” Merry said. He peered at his glass and then at Pippin.

“So, do you know what it is yet?” Pippin asked.

“I think I do but I’ll have another sip just to be certain,” Merry said. He didn’t want to admit that he had no notion as to what it was and he certainly didn’t want to drink more of it but he couldn’t let Pippin know that he didn’t like it. He braced himself and drank again. This time he was ready for the burning sensation and was better able to tolerate it.

Pippin sipped carefully at his own portion and then looked expectantly at Merry awaiting his appraisal and identification of the drink.

“Well, I know what it isn’t,” Merry said. “It isn’t wine and it isn’t an ale.”

Pippin nodded and smiled. “You’re right so far, Cousin,” Pippin said encouragingly. “Have a wee bit more and then I know you’ll be able to guess it!”

Merry smile back and drank again. Pippin drank also. This time Pippin didn’t cough but Merry thought that the younger Hobbit’s eyes were watering entirely too much. “It isn’t the Old Winyards because I’ve had that before and this is stronger,” Merry said.

“Do you want me to more us some pour?” Pippin asked and then he hic-upped. He grinned at Merry and said, “I mean do you want me to pour us some pour?”

“You sit down on the sofa, Pip,” Merry suggested. It seemed to him that Pippin was weaving a bit and likely to fall down but then again it also seemed to him as if the bottle was weaving a bit. He reached out a hand quickly and grabbed the bottle just in case. “I’ll pour it!”

Pippin tottered over to the sofa and sat down but he held out his empty glass so that Merry could refill it for him. With a slightly unsteady hand, Merry poured, or rather sloshed, more of the brown liquid into his own glass and then into Pippin’s. This time he came dangerously close to filling the glasses to the top. This accomplished, Merry sat down next to Pippin and said, “Let’s drink to this rather interesting vintage!”

“Here’s to it!” Pippin agreed and they managed to clink glasses before drinking.

“You know,” Merry said after a few sips. “I didn’t like this stuff when I first started drinking it but it’s beginning to taste better now.”

“That must be because we are getting deeper into the bottle,” Pippin said. “The more we drink the lower it goes and the oldest part of it will be the part that went into the bottle first and so that part will come out of the bottle last. The better it is, the older it is.”

Merry stared at Pippin and tried to puzzle this out for a minute. Finally he gave up the effort and took another drink. “Smooth,” he declared smacking his lips together and then giggling.

Pippin snorted causing the drink that he was taking at the time to go up his nose a bit. “Ouch!” he winced. “It burns when you snort it.”

Merry laughed. “Then don’t snort it, drink it. It goes down better than it comes up,” Merry observed.

“What is it?” Pippin asked.

“What’s what?” Merry frowned trying to focus on Pippin.

“What?” Pippin asked.

They both laughed at this and then Pippin said, “Merry, you’re my favorite cousin. Of all of the cousins that I have, and I have a lot of cousins, you’re the one cousin that is my favorite of all of them.”

“I’m my favorite too,” Merry grinned and he reached over to get the big green bottle so that he could refill their glasses again. “Mine’s getting’ low again. Is yours?”

Pippin nodded and then frowned as he watched the room bob up and down like his head had done. “I got you the biggest bottle I could find, Merry.”

Merry refilled the glasses and giggled at Pippin. “You did get a big bottle and it was full too.”

Pippin squinted at the bottle. “It’s not very full now is it?”

“It’s still half full,” Merry said.

Pippin smiled. “So the bottom of it is still full even if the top of it is empty. So some of this bottle is still very full even now after all this pouring and pouring.”

Merry drank from his glass and then burped. They both laughed again. “I want to miss you a very Pippy bithday, Hap,” Merry grinned.

“No, it’s Hippy Pipday, Merry,” Pippin corrected.

“That’s not right,” Merry frowned. “I think it’s Hap-ty birthpippin’s day! That’s what it is. So Hap-ty to you, Pip!”

“Thank you, Merry,” Pippin grinned. He took another drink of his gift to Merry and then said, “On my birthday are you going to get me some of this stuff?”

“This is your birthday,” Merry pointed out.

“Well, are you?” Pippin giggled. “I did got you some for my birthday and so it’s only proper that you got some for me too.”

“I’ll get you two some, I promise,” Merry said and he patted Pippin on the head.

Pippin drank another sip of his drink and then burped loudly. “I can hear me burp all over the smial!” Pippin observed. “This is good stuff whatever it is.”

“I thought you knew what it was,” Merry frowned.

Pippin took hold of Merry’s waistcoat, pulled him slightly forward, and then whispered into Merry’s ear. “I lied.”

Merry blinked and then laughed. “So you don’t know what we’re drinking? That’s so funny!”

Pippin giggled. “I know what we’re drinking. We’re not drinking milk is what we’re drinking!”

Merry sat up and reached for the bottle again. “Let’s drink some more of it before it all gets gone.”

Pippin blinked a bit stupidly. “Where will it go?”

Merry snickered and nearly dropped the bottle. “It goes inside you when you drink it and then it comes out again later.”

Pippin laughed. “In again, out again, up again, down again,” Pippin sang as Merry refilled the glasses. This time Merry’s glass did overflow a bit. Pippin was now holding onto his own glass with both hands. “I’m glad it’s my burp day, birthday, I’m glad it is!”

“Me too,” Merry agreed. “If it wasn’t your birthday then you wouldn’t have give me this big green bottle of whatever it is and we wouldn’t be drinking it now, would we?”

Pippin squinted. “Would we?”

“No we wouldn’t!” Merry shouted. Then he laughed. He was still laughing when Pippin passed out on the sofa and the contents of his glass poured out onto the parlor floor and onto Merry’s feet. Merry leaned forward and looked at his damp feet and then proceeded to tumble head first onto the floor. He did a complete summersault and came to rest flat on his back.

This is where Frodo found the two of them several hours later. Merry, lying on his back and snoring loudly with alcohol on his feet and his shirt and Pippin face down on the sofa humming in his sleep as he drooled onto the sofa cushions. The large green bottle lay on its side on the parlor table. Some of the bottle's contents still sloshing about inside and a huge puddle of the foul liquid had formed on the table.

Frodo hurried over and picked the bottle up from the table. He stared at his younger cousins and then back at the bottle. “It can’t be,” he murmured as he stared at the bottle’s label. “I thought all of this vile stuff had been poured out long ago.” He looked at Pippin who was still humming and who actually seemed to be giggling in his sleep and then he frowned at the bottle. “Six-hundred and seventy-nine,” Frodo read from the label. He groaned. “Were there actually that many of them?”

Merry yawned and smacked his own face with one hand but continued to sleep. “Where did they get this?” Frodo wondered aloud.

A voice from the parlor doorway startled him. “The cellar.”

He turned and saw Amethyst Brandybuck standing there smiling sweetly at him. The twenty-four-year-old lass looked at Merry and Pippin and then said, “I guess it was a good bottle. They seem to have enjoyed it.”

“They got this out of the cellar?” Frodo asked.

“Pippin got it,” Amethyst smiled. “He gave it to Merry as a birthday gift. He was quite keen to get Merry some sort of drink because he said that if he actually managed to get the drink then Merry would be forced to allow him to drink some of it also. Something about a rule of Merry’s?”

Frodo nodded. “Merry made up the rule so that Pippin wouldn’t be able to drink the Old Winyards that I’d given to Merry a few years ago on my birthday. Pippin was too young to be drinking and so Merry thought that would settle the matter.”

“I guess Merry was wrong about that,” Amethyst said looking at Pippin.

“So it would seem,” Frodo sighed. He looked at the bottle again. “They are both in for a very bad day tomorrow. This stuff gives a Hobbit a dreadful hangover.”

“How do you know that?” Amethyst asked coming a bit closer.

Frodo smiled. “Because I bottled it myself.”

“You did?”

“When I was about twenty-nine, I decided that I would like to bottle some alcohol rather like the Old Winyards,” Frodo said. “I’d heard Bilbo talk of the Old Winyards for years and so I decided that I would bottle some spirits and surprise him. I worked one entire summer and half of the autumn on my great bottling project. I even got a large number of these very unusual green bottles and hand-made labels for them. This bottle is missing the name of my drink. There should be a bit more to the label that says, Baggins Brew, Best in the Shire!”

Amethyst snickered at this. From the sofa Pippin giggled madly and then fell into loud snoring. “Baggins Brew? That’s dreadful!” she said.

“It certainly was,” Frodo laughed softly. “I bottled the stuff and then gave it as gifts to all of my relations and friends for Yule. They all struggled to be polite but I soon realized that ‘Baggins Brew’ tasted a great deal like turpentine. The only thing that can be said of it is that it will get you very drunk in a very short time.” He and Amethyst looked over at Merry and Pippin and Frodo sighed. “I guess Saradoc hid the bottle that I presented to him in the cellar.”

“And Pippin found it,” Amethyst grinned.

Merry muttered something that sounded like, “fish bread” but probably wasn’t, in his sleep and then rolled over on his face.

“Why did you put that date on the bottles?” Amethyst asked.

“What date?” Frodo frowned.

“It says right there,” she pointed to the bottle in Frodo’s hands. “Six-hundred-seventy-nine.”

Frodo sighed. “That isn’t the date. That is bottle number six-hundred-seventy-nine. I numbered them. The date was on the top part of the label along with the name.” Frodo grinned. “I guess Pippin thought he’d found the oldest vintage in all the Shire.”

“Will he be in trouble over this?” Amethyst asked.

“I suspect that the suffering he will do tomorrow on his birthday will be payment enough,” Frodo said. “I’ve had Baggins Brew before and believe me, nothing leaves your head throbbing like it does.”

Amethyst grinned. “Goodnight, Cousin,” she said and slipped quietly from the room.

Frodo looked over at Pippin and sighed. “Many happy returns of the day, Peregrin Took.”

The End

GW 08/14/2006





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