Note: This ficlet was inspired by a few questions Dreamflower had in response to a quote I posted in my journal. The quote in question is: 'All right!' said Pippin. 'I will follow you into every bog and ditch. But it is hard! I had counted on passing the Golden Perch at Stock before sundown. The best beer in the Eastfarthing, or used to be: it is a long time since I tasted it.'

All in the Research

"Come on, Pippin. This way!" Merry said, disappearing into a field of tall grass that swayed gently in the breeze. Pippin, who was still making his way down a rather steep hill, could just see the top of his cousin’s curly head above the grass.

"Oi, Merry! Wait for me!" he said as he scrambled after him. In his haste Pippin nearly slipped on the damp, muddy ground before regaining his balance and continuing his descent at a more sedate pace.

Emerging from the grass, Merry leaned on his walking stick and watched in obvious amusement as his cousin finally reached the bottom of the hill. Pippin stooped to retrieve his own walking stick, which he had dropped in the excitement, and frowned at the mud now covering it. "I don't suppose we might take a bit of short cut," he suggested hopefully.

Merry raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. A detour through Stock?" he asked with a knowing smile.

"Only as part of our research," Pippin said quickly. "Frodo might want something to eat or drink, or a bit of rest, along the way. I think we ought to investigate every inn between Bag End and Crickhollow, so we’ll be prepared.”

“I think you’re already quite familiar with the inns, Pippin,” Merry replied with a grin. “Though perhaps we may plan another expedition soon and visit some of them – for research, of course. But now I think we ought to continue on our way. We've just a month left before Frodo leaves, and we must be prepared to travel long distances each day if we are going to accompany him."

"Of course we must do what's best for Frodo," Pippin agreed with a fervent nod, and though he headed toward the grassy field he could not help but glance longingly in the direction of Stock. "It's just been ever so long since we visited the Golden Perch," he added with a sigh.

Merry laughed and slung an arm around his cousin's shoulder. "Perhaps we ought to adjust our plans and do some of that investigating you suggested today. We could stop at The Fiddler's Elbow in Bucklebury on our way back," he said, his eyes twinkling.

Pippin's face lit up with a grin. "Lead the way, Merry!" he said. The two cousins disappeared into the grass, their plans for that evening – and the future – never far from their minds.