DISCLAIMER:  Professor Tolkien’s wonderful characters don’t belong to me; I just get to think about them day and night.

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Took Blood

Gandalf looked down tenderly at the drowsy hobbit who sat on the bed next to him. It had been a long day.

“Well, it could have been worse,” Frodo yawned, gazing at the space where his finger had been.

“It certainly could have,” Gandalf said softly. “Isildur was killed, as was Déagol, and Sméagol is no more. Sauron’s essence has been dissipated for all time.” He smiled. “Of the Ring-bearers, only you, Bilbo, and Sam survived.”

“But why?” Frodo asked. “It can’t just be because we’re hobbits; Sméagol and his cousin were, too... in a sense.”

“Took blood,” Pippin said smugly.

“But I don’t have any, Mr. Pippin,” Sam reminded him.

“That doesn’t matter,” Pippin said earnestly. “Think of all the exposure to Took blood you’ve had, Sam! Your father worked for Bilbo, and you work for Frodo, and you live so close to them, and then there are all the times I’ve visited Bag End, and--”

“That must be it,” Merry grinned. “Took blood must be contagious, like a disease.”

“Now wait a minute, that’s not what I meant,” Pippin protested.

"Yes, it is."

“Why couldn’t the secret be in their Baggins blood?” Sam ventured.

“No, it’s definitely Took magic,” Pippin declared, unshaken. “It helped me face Sauron in the seeing stone, and survive under that troll. Powerful stuff.” His face lit up. “Sam, one of your children should marry a Took. That would protect your family forever!”

“My children?” Sam chuckled. “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves here, Mr. Pippin. I don’t--”

“Shhh,” Gandalf whispered, his finger to his lips. Frodo had fallen fast asleep against him with a smile on his face.

“I wish Tooks really did have some magic to help him,” Pippin sighed.

“You helped him plenty, Mr. Pippin,” Sam smiled. “You really did.”