“Where there's smoke...”
Beta by Llinos and Marigold
This was written for 'PIppinfan1988' for Yule 

*****

"Are you out of your mind?" Merry demanded. He looked down at the corner of the once lovely wooden table that was now blackened with scorch marks.

"I can explain, but please, keep your voice down," Estella whispered.

Merry managed to pull his eyes away from the table long enough to look at his wife. "Be quiet?" he said in disbelief. "I come rushing into the parlour on the eve of First Yule to find my wife setting fire to one of our tables and your main concern here is that I keep quiet?"

"You'll wake Pippin," she whispered.

"Pippin? I'll wake Pippin? You're afraid that I might disturb Pippin's sleep?" Merry blinked. "If you'd have managed to get your table fire going completely I'd have had to wake Pippin, because I would have needed to get him out of the house before you burned it to the ground." Merry ran a hand through his hair and began to pace. "I go to bed for the evening, my lovely bride beside me and I wake up to the smell of burning wood and lamp oil. I rush into the parlour and there I find said lovely bride roasting the table which sits beside my favourite chair." Merry ran his hand through his hair again, this time leaving it standing on end and then turned to look at Estella. "Was it something I did? Do you not like this table? Or were you just starting a signal fire of some kind?"

"I really can explain, Merry, but you need to sit down and try to keep your voice at a whisper," Estella said softly. "I'll explain it to you, but I don't want Pippin to hear any of this. It would upset him."

Looking utterly confused, Merry sank into his favourite chair next to the damaged little corner table. "Well, we certainly don't want to upset Pippin, do we?" He looked at the ceiling and said, "My wife has gone mad during the night but I can be grateful that in spite of her madness, she's still very thoughtful when it comes to the feelings of my cousin."

"Stop being so dramatic," Estella said very quietly. "There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this."

"Of course there is," Merry said. "I can think of three of them."

"Three?" Estella looked very curious.

"Three," Merry nodded. "I'm still asleep and this is a very odd dream. I've gone mad and am imagining that you're trying to cook us all in our sleep. You've gone mad but you are too far round the bend to realize it, so you're arguing the point with me. That's three. I think that's more reasons than anyone else might have been able to come up with when faced with this set of circumstances at three in the morning."

"You always were an uncommonly clever hobbit, dearest," Estella said in her best soothing voice.

"Flattery is not going to soften my mood, Estella," Merry said. "Don't stand there thinking you can set things ablaze and then settle my nerves with a few kind words of praise for my reasoning skills."

"I'm starting to dislike your tone, Meriadoc Brandybuck," Estella said turning her back on him.

"You don't like my tone?" Merry frowned, but before he could build up to the huge list of things which he currently didn't like, he noticed what was in his wife's hands. She been holding the object behind her back all this time but he'd been too fixated upon the burnt table to notice. "Were you burning that too?"

She whirled around. "Of course I was, Merry," she whispered. "*That* was the whole point of this. I was trying to get rid of it." She thrust the object at him and dropped it into his lap. "This is the whole problem right here. This is dangerous and it has to be destroyed and I've found a way to do that."

"Well, yes, fire most certainly will destroy it," Merry said. "But you do know that the Shire is full of these things, don't you? There must be hundreds of them in the Great Smials alone. Estella, there are shops in Tuckborough that specialize in making these. A craftsman with the skill to turn a piece of wood into a proper one can name his price. Burning this one is not going to rid the Shire of them."

"I know that, Merry," Estella sighed. "I just want to get rid of this one and maybe plant an idea into the bargain." She reached over and ran her fingers through his hair in an attempt to straighten it. As she did so, he set the slightly charred item on the floor and pulled her into his lap. "You've mussed your hair," she whispered. "It makes you look like my mad Aunt Lily."

"The one that smells like boiled cabbage?” Merry winced.

"The very one," Estella nodded, still finger-combing Merry's hair.

"Well, sometimes, when your home is on fire, you lose your composure," Merry said.

"The house was never on fire, Meriadoc," Estella scowled. "I was only using a tiny bit of lamp oil to make some scorch marks on the table. Then I was going to throw that thing into the fire and write a note. The note was really the part that I was concerned about."

"Yes, writing can be very dangerous," Merry sighed. "You weren't at all worried about playing with fire but you were concerned about writing a note?"

"I told you," Estella said, quietly but firmly. "I had the fire under control."

"Famous last words," Merry sighed. "Why must there always be a fire at Yule time?"

"What?" Now it was Estella's turn to look puzzled.

"Well, one year, I burned a little shed to the ground while trying to light the Yule Lights and another year Pippin set a large portion of our garden here at this very house on fire while trying to light the Yule Lights. Now, you've set a table on fire while attempting to burn up something which does not belong to you." Merry sighed and held her close. "Estella, when do you and Pippin plan to stop this sort of thing?"

"What sort of thing?"

"Picking at one another like a couple of faunts sharing a pram," Merry sighed. "I really thought it was going better between the two of you. You are my wife and he is my cousin. The three of us are sharing this house for the time being. Why can't you and Pippin at least be pleasant to one another?"

"You think I was trying to burn that because it belongs to Pippin and I was acting on some sort of nasty, spiteful, urge to upset him?" She looked stunned. "Surely you can't think that."

"What am I supposed to think?"

"Honestly, Merry," Estella said, looking injured.

"Don't look at me as if I'm the one that was caught with a burning table," Merry objected.

Estella pulled back from his embrace but did not stand. "I was trying to burn that up to protect Pippin and to protect you into the bargain. In case you don't remember, that thing was the cause of considerable panic here just a fortnight ago."

"I remember," Merry whispered grimly. "I thought Pippin was going to lose a foot over it."

"Merry, one of you fools could have been killed," Estella pointed out.

"I suspect you may be right," Merry sighed, recalling the incident.

*****

"Careful, Pip," Merry said watching nervously as Pippin pulled back on the bowstring and took aim.

"I have done this before a few times," Pippin said. "In case you don't recall, I had to take lessons."

"Three times," Merry said dryly.

Pippin lowered the bow and glared at Merry. "It was four, actually," Pippin replied tartly. "But since I *did* take lessons on four different occasions, I should think you'd trust me to shoot at a simple target behind the house."

"You had to take lessons four times because you never seemed able to master the thing," Merry said. "As I recall, you nearly shot Reggie in the forehead once."

"I did not!" Pippin objected. "I just shot over his head. It wasn't that close!"

"He says it parted his hair and he could feel the tip of the arrow graze the skin on the top of his head," Merry smiled.

"He just tells it that way to annoy me," Pippin said. "I wasn't even close to parting his hair. I wish he'd stop telling that!"

"It's a fine story over drinks," Merry grinned. "It always gets a laugh. Folks like it even more now that you're known to be a Knight of Gondor."

"The Knights of Gondor do not fight with bows," Pippin objected.

Merry arched an eyebrow. "No?"

"Well, not all of them do," Pippin said. "Only a few."

"Only a few?"

"All right, Meriadoc," Pippin said, letting the arrow drop to the grass and turning to face his cousin. "A great many of them do, but I didn't!"

"Let me have a try at that thing," Merry said, reaching for the bow. "If I manage to hit the target, you and I will go into Bucklebury and you will buy me an ale. If I miss, you get a turn and then I buy you an ale."

"You've never shot a bow in your life," Pippin pointed out.

Merry shrugged. "I think I can manage it."

"It isn't as easy as it might look," Pippin warned, handing the bow to Merry. "You aren't exactly Legolas, you know."

"I know that very well," Merry smiled. "I have much nicer feet than Legolas. Now, show me how to hold it properly. You've had more than a few lessons. You ought to be able to show me the correct way to hold it."

"Fine," Pippin sighed. "But when you miss, I'm going to want two ales for my trouble, one for the lesson and one because you missed. Oh, and one to make me feel like finishing with the Yule wrapping."

"You still haven't wrapped your gifts yet?" Merry chuckled. "If you don't hurry, there won't be much point."

"Don't nag," Pippin said. "You sound like Estella. She's been after me to wrap them all week long."

"You're due to leave for Tuckborough in three days to spend Yule with your family," Merry said. "Estella just wants you to be ready."

"She just wants me out of the house," Pippin snorted.

"She's got Yule plans," Merry grinned, waggling his eyebrows in a wicked fashion. "In fact, she and I have a few plans for Yule. After all, it is our first Yule as husband and wife. I have a tree I'd like her to decorate."

Pippin rolled his eyes. "Just be careful she doesn't cut the poor, wee, sapling down."

Merry glared at him. "You just let me worry about my own, impressive Yule offering. Now, how do I shoot this thing? Put some of those many lessons to good use and tell me how to hit that target."

*****

"I still don't understand how it happened," Estella said with a slight shiver.

Merry held her close, trying to calm her nerves. "I don't know exactly. I'm still not entirely certain which one of us shot him. I was holding the bow and arrow and Pippin was standing beside me. He kept reaching over and taking my arm and showing me how to keep my elbow at the proper angle. He was showing me how to keep the bowstring taut and sight the arrow when it happened. We were both pulling back on the bowstring at the time but I had my finger curled around the arrow. We were sighting the target and all of a sudden, Pippin sneezed. I remember my arm going downwards and I let go of the string. I had my finger around the arrow too tightly and I felt the skin burn as the arrow shot from the bow and straight down towards the ground. The next thing I knew Pippin let out a yell and sat down on the grass. When I looked at him, he was as white as snow and the arrow was sticking through the top of his foot and into the ground."

"And you come in here and question why I'm trying to burn the thing?" Estella said in a shaky voice. "I watched you pull that arrow out of the earth, Merry. I thought Pippin was going to faint before you managed to get him into the parlour."

"I think I would have fainted," Merry said.

"Then you cut the end off the arrow and I went for the healer," Estella whispered so quietly that Merry was having difficulty hearing her. "I remember running and trying to distract myself with thoughts of how I might kill Pervinca's husband with my own hands when I saw him next."

"He didn't know, Stella," Merry said gently.

"Merry, everyone in the Shire has heard Reggie Took tell that story about how Pippin nearly shot him. He had to know that the last thing he should be giving Pippin for Yule was a bow!"

"I think he borrowed Pippin's old bow and lost it somehow, so he thought this was a fitting gift," Merry said. "He brought it by and gave it to Pip when he was here discussing some business with my Father.  I guess he thought Pippin might enjoy an early Yule gift.”

"And poor Pippin is spending Yule hobbling about on crutches here in Crickhollow instead of with his family because of his early gift," Estella muttered.

"The point is, dear one, I don't think burning Pippin's bow is going to change that," Merry smiled. "Happily, Pippin is going to be quite all right. His foot is healing remarkably well and Pippin has taken the entire incident in his stride. So to speak." Merry winced at his choice of words.

"All the same, if you'd have not caught me at it, I think I might have put an end to Pippin's efforts to become an archer."

"How?" Merry asked, more curious now than angry.

"I was planning on letting Thluggul* do it for me," Estella smiled.

"Thluggul? The Yule Dragon?" Merry looked confused. "Estella, Pippin can be a bit whimsical and rather naive at times, but I do believe he's outgrown believing in the Yule Dragon."

"Why Merry Brandybuck," Estella chided. "No one is completely certain that there isn't a Yule Dragon. It's true that Thluggul is considered to be a children's tale but many tales are based upon fact and now and again things happen in the Shire at Yule that folks can't explain. Many of those things are attributed to Thluggul by reasonable, right-minded, adult hobbits."

"It's true that there are a few rather strange and wonderful events in Shire history for which folks often gave credit to Thluggul, but most of those involve important things like baskets of food turning up at folks' doors when they're down to their very last penny or new milk cows appearing in barns as if by magic when farmers were wondering where milk for the little ones would come from, or the time that lost child returned home safely at Yule saying that Thluggul had flown her home on his back," Merry smiled. "Estella, I don't ever recall a Yule miracle involving Thluggul in which he nearly burned down a house."

"Merry, I scorched the table deliberately," Estella sighed. "I wanted Pippin to be the one that suspected that Thluggul had burned up the bow. I thought scorch marks on the table would make that idea come to him. I know that Thluggul doesn't normally leave behind evidence of that sort on his visits but I needed some way to put the notion into Pippin's head."

Merry was trying not to laugh. "So you planned to scorch the table and then burn the bow to a crisp and have Thluggul leave Pippin a note saying, 'Don't ever fire a bow again as long as you live?'"

"Well, now you see why I was worried about the note," Estella said in a very serious tone. "I'm not altogether certain what a real dragon might write or if they *can* write."

"I love you more with each passing minute of this," Merry smiled kissing her gently on the lips.

"What was that for?" Estella asked.

"For your child-like belief in the Yule Dragon and for your belief in dragons in general," Merry said. He kissed her again.

"Merry, really, I'm trying to explain what I was attempting to do here," Estella objected.

"Are you complaining?" Merry whispered.

"No, but…," Estella began.

"Then just enjoy it. I noticed there's wassail left. We could warm that up later after I have finished showing you how much I love you and have a toast to our first Yule together as husband and wife." Merry smiled and he began kissing her again before she could raise any objections.

Several hours later…

"I smell bacon," Merry murmured into Estella's neck. He shifted on the chair and felt his back complain loudly. "Stella, I think we've slept in the chair all night," he said, shifting her weight on his lap.

Estella sat up and blinked. "We slept here?"

"I think we did," Merry grinned. "I think we sat here kissing and cuddling by the fire until we both fell asleep."

"What woke you? What time is it? Merry, I smell bacon," Estella said.

"That is what woke me," Merry grinned. "I could smell bacon."

"Pippin!" Estella said, looking startled. She pulled herself up from Merry's lap and called, "Peregrin Took, if you're in that kitchen, you are in trouble!"

"Why?" Pippin asked, coming to the door, one crutch under his arm, his left foot still bandaged. Merry noticed that Pippin was already dressed, something that he hadn't done all week. That, Merry thought was a very good sign. Pippin was feeling well enough to be restless.

"You haven't been told you could be up cooking," Estella said, walking over to Pippin and glaring at him. "The healer said you were to go easy for at least another week."

"In spite of what you may have heard about me, Estella," Pippin smiled, "I don't cook with my feet."

"You aren't supposed to be standing on them long enough to cook," Estella said sternly. "You're supposed to use your crutches to go to the privy and to move from your bed to the sofa, nothing more difficult than that."

"I'm fine, honestly, Estella," Pippin said. "And if we stand about arguing, I'll burn the bacon. Be nice. It's Yule." He was leaning on the crutch and holding an empty saucepan in his hand.

"Where is your other crutch?"

"In the kitchen," Pippin said. "I was using it to stir the scrambled eggs."

Merry laughed.

"You were not," Estella said trying not to laugh. "You go and sit down and I'll finish breakfast. Go on."

"Very well," Pippin sighed. "I was only trying to be useful."

"Give up on that," Merry suggested. "Even with two good feet, you fall short of useful on most days."

"Happy Yule to you too, Meriadoc," Pippin said and then he suddenly began to stare at the table. "What happened to that table? What did you do, leave your pipe lit all night?"

"No," Merry said, looking uncomfortably at the table. He'd almost forgotten about Estella's late-night dragon impression. "It's a funny thing about this table."

Pippin hobbled over and ran a hand over the wood. "It looks scorched and who drank all the wassail? I was in the kitchen making breakfast and thought I'd warm up a mug of it but the pot was empty. Looks rather like someone licked it clean."

Merry blinked. Pippin was holding up the empty pot.

"I didn't notice. I thought it was full last night," Merry frowned. "Estella, did we drink the wassail last night? I know we discussed it but I don't recall getting up and pouring any," Merry called.

Estella appeared in the doorway. "No, Merry. We didn't drink anything. Why?"

"Well, someone did," Pippin said holding the pot up so that she could see it.

"I thought I told you to sit down," Estella sighed, taking the pot from Pippin.

"You did," Pippin said. "You can ask my sisters. I don't take directions well, especially at Yule. Too many exciting things going on to sit about taking directions."

Estella peered at the empty pot suspiciously. "Maybe we did drink it. I don't remember doing that but maybe we did."

"If you drank enough of it," Pippin said, lowering himself to the sofa, "Maybe that's why you don't recall."

"Prop your foot up," Estella said absently, still studying the pot. "If you hope to ride up to the Hall with us later, then you best rest that foot now."

Pippin scowled. "I was just rather curious. There's been some sort of fire in here and someone drank the wassail so I just thought I should know about it. I was looking forward to some of that wassail."

Merry sighed. "Pippin, I think perhaps we can explain that over breakfast."

"Breakfast!" Estella said, turning and running back to the kitchen.

"Jumpy today, isn't she?" Pippin asked.

"It's Yule," Merry said, placing Pippin's foot on a cushion. "Maybe she's just a bit nervous. I think she wants it to go well."

"Judging from that table and the lack of wassail, it's too late to hope for that," Pippin said.

Merry snorted and rubbed his back. "And the backache I have from sleeping in the chair most of the night isn't going to make it a success either."

"At least you don't have a hole in your foot," Pippin grinned. "But I know what might help put us in the mood for Yule, Merry."

"What?"

"Let's open the biscuit tin," Pippin grinned.

"Before breakfast?"

"Any time is a good time for biscuits," Pippin said reasonably.

"True," Merry said. He took the biscuit tin down from the mantelpiece and popped the lid open and extended it to Pippin. "You first, Cousin."

"That isn't funny," Pippin said glaring at Merry.

"What isn't?"

"If you'd eaten them all, you could have said something," Pippin frowned.

"I didn't eat them," Merry objected peering into the empty tin. "We agreed to save this tin for First Yule. I put it on the mantelpiece myself and when I put it there, it was full of lovely biscuits."

"It's not full now," Pippin said. "Do you suppose Estella ate them?"

"All of them?" Merry objected.

"Some lasses can eat a whole tin of biscuits," Pippin said. "Or, maybe you've managed to get her in the family way and she's eating for two. I remember when Pearl was carrying her first one, we couldn't keep biscuits in the smial. She..."

"Estella!"

"What, Merry?" Estella said. "I'm putting breakfast on the table. If you keep shouting and I have to keep coming back in here, it won't get done before luncheon."

"Did you, by any chance, eat the biscuits that were in the tin on the mantelpiece?"

"We're nearly ready to have breakfast and you're shouting about biscuits?"

"She ate them," Pippin smiled, satisfied.

"I did not!" Estella objected. "I couldn't possibly eat a whole tin of biscuits!"

"When Pearl was in the family way she..."

"I am not in the family way!" Estella blushed.

"Are you certain?" Merry asked, looking rather hopeful.

"Fairly," Estella said.

"Then let's eat," Pippin said, starting to get up.

"Straight to the table and then you..." Estella stopped mid sentence.

"What?" Pippin and Merry both asked, looking at her quizzically.

"There's something in the fireplace," Estella said softly.

Merry scowled.

"Logs?" Pippin suggested cheekily.

"No," Merry said slowly. "Pippin, I think it might be your new bow, or what's left of it."

Pippin limped over to the fireplace and peered into the grate. "That's what it is all right, my bow. And there are biscuit crumbs all over the floor just here. Whoever ate the biscuits must have been rather messy."

"Aren't you upset about the bow?" Merry frowned.

"All things considered, Meriadoc, I think it might have been better all around if the silly thing had been chucked into the fireplace a couple of weeks ago, don't you?" Pippin said. "Which one of you burned it?"

Estella and Merry exchanged confused looks.

"I don't mind either way," Pippin said. "I just wondered which of you did it. Come on. Confess. It's Yule. If you don't confess then Thluggul might decide to leave you a lump of charcoal."

Merry and Estella continued to stare at one another but they didn't respond.

"Fine," Pippin shrugged. "But I'm not sharing my gifts with either of you. Best be honest a'fore Thluggul gets word of your deceit."

"I was going to burn it but I didn't," Estella admitted. "I meant to but I didn't get to it before I fell asleep. At least I don't think I did. Merry, did one of us get up last night and put the bow into the fire?"

"Maybe it was Thluggul!" Pippin said with exaggerated surprise in his voice. "Maybe the Yule Dragon burned it to keep me from using it anymore. It's a sign! I wonder if there's a note from Thluggul that explains it all?" He looked about the room as he spoke.

"Not one of us, Estella my love," Merry said, looking over at Pippin who was grinning at him. "A certain eavesdropping Took did it. You heard us!"

"I might have," Pippin said.

"Peregrin Took," Estella said, frowning. "You were eavesdropping on a private conversation."

"At least I wasn't purposely setting fire to the furniture," Pippin said. Then he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

"What was that for?" Estella asked, looking surprised.

"That was for attempting to pull off one of the most ridiculous stunts that it's ever been my pleasure to witness. Even *I* couldn't have come up with anything to rival it," Pippin said. "Merry, I think you should keep her just based on this. The lass has potential."

Estella glared at Pippin. "That, Peregrin Took, is the very last time I try to do anything to protect you from yourself!"

"She likes me," Pippin said, grinning at Merry. "I've finally grown on her."

"I-I-I just knew how upset Merry would be if something happened to you, you insufferable Took!" Estella said. She sounded fierce enough but her eyes were giving her away as she turned and headed towards the kitchen. "I'm having breakfast. You two can stand about all morning if you like."

"Merry, I think I'll go into my room and take a nap before we go to the Hall," Pippin smiled. "Why don't you and your wee fire dragon of a wife eat breakfast without me.  Pretend I'm not here.  I was up all night and I'm a bit tired."

"When exactly did you wake up?" Merry asked, looking very amused.

"The smell of roasting table-top brought me out of my bed," Pippin said. "I was watching your lovely lass put out the fire when you dashed to the rescue."

"Aren't you hungry?"

"No, I ate a bit as I was putting the bacon on," Pippin smiled as he hobbled from the room.

"The biscuits?"

"Every single one of them," Pippin said. "Except the one I crumbled onto the floor to make it look as if a rather messy dragon had been eating them. And no, I'm not in the family way. I just like Yule biscuits."

"Why did you eat them all?" Merry complained.

"I was trying to do what I suspect Thluggul might do in that situation. He's a very large dragon, Merry, so naturally I felt that he would eat all the biscuits," Pippin explained.

"Naturally," Merry sighed. "And the wassail?"

"Thluggul was thirsty after so many biscuits, Merry," Pippin said, yawning. "Wake me when it's time to go up to the Hall. I want to see if Thluggul's left me anything special at your parents' smial. I've been very good this year."

The End

GW    12-12-2009

*Thluggul, the Yule Dragon, is an original character created by Llinos and he is in this story, as well as my other Yule story for this year,  with her permission.  
He originally appeared in Llinos’ story, “A Partnership in Villainy”and she has also posted a wonderful new story for this year in which Thluggul is mentioned.  That story is “A Yuletide Lesson”.Thluggul has been a very busy dragon this year!
 
In fact, he insisted that I write this story and if you’ve ever had a dragon breathing down your neck while you write, then you’ll know that I had little choice in the matter.  Dragon’s, even the sort that leave Yule presents for good children, have extremely hot breath.  I was very glad that Llinos allowed me to borrow him.  If she hadn’t, I might have wound up in worse shape than Merry’s table.

Thank you for reading and Happy New Year to both of you! (I’m assuming that at least two people will read this.  If there are more of you, then Happy New Year to you as well.)

GW