Chapter 1. Stormy Beginning

Reginard and Peregrin Took travelled the road to Tuckborough in a steady downpour. The mud slowed the journey, and the rain made for miserable travel. A journey that would normally take a day, albeit a long one, was looking to take at least two.

Regi reined in his pony to shout to Pippin. 'We'll have to stop at the Crowing Cockerel,' he said.

'This is an auspicious beginning,' Pippin shouted back. 'Perhaps the weather is trying to tell us something!'

'Yes,' Regi returned. 'It's trying to tell us not to bypass the best beer on the Stock Road.'

'I'll drink to that!' Pippin shouted cheerily.

They continued slogging through the mud as the wind picked up, increasing to a gale as they rode. They began to encounter trees down across the road, making it necessary to go off the road to get around, slowing their travel even more. The rain increased, and Regi began to worry. He was wet through, cold and miserable. He thought about Pippin's near-fatal bout with the Old Gaffer's Friend* years back, and how much care the Brandybucks took of his health, whether Pippin himself was aware of it or not. He had to get his cousin dry and warm, and soon.

Another tree crashed across the road and nearly on top of them. Pippin shouted, 'I'm really getting the feeling that I wasn't meant to be Thain!'

'Just as bad going back to the Hall as going on,' Regi answered.

'Ah. Perhaps I'll just stay the rest of my days at the Crowing Cockerel, then, and make sure the beer stays up to standard,' Pippin shouted back. He pointed, and Regi saw to his relief a smear of welcoming yellow in the grey landscape, light pouring from the round windows of a sprawling inn. There were three trees in a row across the road between them and the inn. With a mischievous grin, Pippin shouted, 'Last one to the inn buys the first mug!' To his pony, he cried, 'Come on, Socks! Now for it!' The pony threw up his head as Pippin's heels dug into his sides, and he ran straight at the first tree, lifting easily to float over.

Regi hadn't jumped a pony since his tweens, but his own mount leaped forward after Socks, nearly unseating him. He grabbed for the mane as his pony lifted into the air. He remembered the feeling of flying and leaned forward at the right time, rocking into the landing, catching his balance as the pony lifted over the second tree. Pippin had reined Socks in after the last jump, and turned to meet Regi, laughing. Regi, to his own surprise, found himself grinning. As soon as Pippin saw him safely over the last tree, he turned back to the inn and urged Socks forward again. The ponies picked up their pace, recognising food and shelter ahead, and they cantered gaily into the courtyard as buckets of rain poured down upon them.

Pippin slipped from his pony and led him into the stables, to be met by a lad there. 'No, I'll take him myself,' Pippin said to the lad. 'Just show me where to put him.' The lad indicated an empty stall, and turned to take Reginard's pony.

Reginard called to his cousin, 'I'll just go in and get us a room!'

Pippin waved a hand at him, took off his soaking cloak, hung it over the stall door, and turned to the lad. 'I'll need cloths to wipe him down,' he said as he started to take the saddle off.

The lad's eyes widened as he recognised the White Tree of Gondor on Pippin's surcoat. 'Captain Peregrin?' he gasped.

Pippin gave a bow. 'At your service, and your family's,' he grinned. 'Now how about those cloths?'

'Right away, sir!' and the lad quickly put Regi's pony into a stall and whirled to comply.

Reginard turned and hurried through the pelting rain to the door of the inn. It didn't take long to make the necessary arrangements. Seeing the Thain's seal on his hand, the innkeeper was all smiles and bows. 'Yes, sir, right away, sir!'

Regi nodded and turned back to the stables. 'We'll be right in,' he said over his shoulder. 'I want everything ready by the time I get back.'

'Of course, sir,' the innkeeper bowed again, and turned to shout orders. Regi smiled to himself. Perhaps Pippin had the right idea, insisting that he retain the Thain's ring until the Tooks formally confirmed Pippin as Thain. It certainly made everything more convenient at the moment.

He arrived at the stable to find the stable lad had his own pony wiped down and bedded in straw, nose buried in oats.

Pippin had made Socks comfortable: rubbed down with towels, bedded with a deep layer of straw, haynet filled with plenty of hay, plus a bucket of water and manger holding a generous portion of oats. He was rummaging in his saddle-bags now, finally pulling out an apple which he proceeded to cut into slices, taking a piece for himself and feeding the rest to the pony.

'Bedtime snack?' Regi asked. 'Are you going to give him a story as well? Sing a lullaby, perhaps?'

'No,' Pippin answered with a chuckle, 'the lad's a bit tired; I think he'll drop off pretty soon.'

'Then let us seek for our own comfort,' Regi said, sharp eyes noticing a shudder of chill pass through his cousin. 'The inn is warm, smells of good cooking, and I do believe I am supposed to buy the first mug.'

'I do believe you have the right of it, cousin,' Pippin answered. Throwing his cloak around his shoulders (for all the good the sopping thing did), he stepped from the stall with a last pat. 'Good night, Socks,' he said. 'You be a good lad and I'll bring you another apple in the morning.' The pony snorted and Regi almost laughed. Pippin did laugh, and shaking his head, joined his cousin. 'I swear, one of these days he's going to discover the power of speech and I won't be able to get a word in edgewise.'

'I find that hard to believe,' Regi answered, and the two strode out into the downpour, across the drowned courtyard to the welcoming inn.

***

*Old Gaffer's Friend: Shire term for pneumonia, which took the elderly relatively quickly and painlessly.