AUTHOR: Dreamflower
RATING: G
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Pippin is 5, and Sam is 15. (or 3 and 9 in Man-years.)
SUMMARY: Wee Pippin visits Cousin Bilbo.

MARIGOLD'S CHALLENGE #31

WAITING FOR MERRY AND FRODO

Bilbo had just seated himself in the kitchen for a bit of elevenses: a pot
of tea, a radish and butter sandwich, and the last piece of seedcake, when
there was a rap at the front door.

With a sigh, and a regretful look at his plate, he got up to go answer it.
At least he knew it would *not* be the Sackville-Bagginses. Otho had taken
his family with him last week, to attend some business in the Southfarthing.
He opened the door.

"Paladin Took! And little Peregrin!" he exclaimed in delight. "Come right
in!"

Pippin, who had only recently crossed the border from faunthood to
childhood, peered from behind his father's leg. For the briefest of instants
he looked shy, and then he launched himself at Bilbo's knees.

"Cousin Bilbo!" he crowed, hugging fiercely.

Charmed, Bilbo patted the curly head, said "Peregrin! How you've grown! Soon
you'll pass the Bullroarer!" and unobtrusively slipped a peppermint from his
pocket into a tiny hand.

His smile blossoming into a full-blown grin, Pippin hastily popped the treat
into his mouth before his father could notice.

Paladin had already noticed, but affected not to.

"Come right in," repeated Bilbo, "and join me for some elevenses!" Not
waiting for a reply, he led the way to the kitchen.

Bilbo found the small box he kept in a corner, just for the very purpose of
boosting small relatives up to the table, and placed it on a chair, nodding
at Paladin, who lifted Pippin up to sit at the table.

With only a mild regret for his last bit of seedcake, Bilbo placed his own
untouched plate in front of the child. The delight on the lad's face more
than made up for it. He got two more plates, and began to cut more
sandwiches for himself and Paladin. While he was doing that, Paladin took
cups from the sideboard, and poured a little tea and a good deal of milk
into one of them for Pippin.

Bilbo and Paladin soon sat down to their own elevenses.

"Ah," said Paladin, after a few bites. "Lovely radishes! Crisp and sweet,
with a nice bite to them."

"The first ones of spring," replied Bilbo, "the Gaffer is quite proud of
them."

There wasn't much more one could say about a radish sandwich, so Bilbo took
a sip of his own tea, and said "To what do I owe the honor of this
unexpected visit?"

Pippin, who had finished his own food already, piped up "Merry and Frodo!"

Paladin sighed, and gave his son half of his second sandwich, along with a
look of reproof. Pippin looked only slightly abashed, and lit into the
sandwich with glee.

"I am on my way to Underhill to pick up Tina and the lasses." Underhill was
the small village just the other side of Overhill, where Eglantine's mother
and brother lived. "Knowing that Merry's still visiting you I thought--" he
stopped abruptly. "Where *are* Merry and Frodo?"

Bilbo shook his head. "Folco Boffin and Fatty Bolger are visiting Folco's
aunt in Bywater. Frodo and Merry went down there to see them. They should be
home slightly after luncheon."

"Ah," Paladin sighed.

Pippin looked dejected. "No Merry? No Frodo?" He gave his father a
reproachful look. "Father! You *said*!"

"That's enough, Peregrin!" Paladin lowered his brows, and Pippin subsided,
pouting a bit.

"I had hoped," said Paladin to Bilbo, "to allow Pippin to visit with Merry
while I fetched his mother and sisters. He doesn't get on well with his
Banks cousins." The last time Clovis and Cado had visited Whitwell, they had
reduced Pippin to a storm of tears by snatching away one of his favorite
toys, and throwing it back and forth between them, just out of his reach,
faster and faster, until it fell to the ground and broke. They had thought
it immensely funny.

"They're mean," Pippin muttered, too low for his father to hear, but Bilbo
did. He had heard about the incident at great length from Merry, who was
there at the time and had only been prevented from tackling Clovis to the
ground by Pearl's firm hand on his collar. His indignation at the Banks
brothers on Pippin's behalf seemed well-placed.

"You mean to say," said Bilbo, "that they bully Pippin."

"Well," said Paladin hesitantly.

Bilbo flapped a hand at him. "I know, I know. You don't wish to speak ill of
your wife's nephews. Do not think I don't understand. All of us are
afflicted with unpleasant relations from time to time." He took a sip of
tea. "At any rate, I don't see the problem. Surely Pippin could stay and
keep me company until Frodo and Merry return--it's only three or four hours
before they come back, after all."

Paladin shot him a look of gratitude. "Are you certain, Bilbo?"

"Why of course! You go on to Underhill and get Cousin Tina and the little
lasses, and when you return, all of you may take supper with us, and stay
the night if you wish before heading back to Whitwell in the morning."

Pippin's grin decided his father, and it was with much gratitude that he
agreed to Bilbo's plan. After many admonishments to Pippin to be good for
his Cousin Bilbo, he took his leave, and Bilbo and Pippin saw him down to
the lane, where his pony-trap awaited.

Bilbo lifted Pippin up, and the lad placed a kiss on his father's cheek. "
'Bye, Papa--I mean, Father!"

Paladin returned the kiss and whipped up the pony, trotting down the road.

Pippin stood on his tiptoes, and waved frantically, until the pony-trap
vanished around a curve in the road, and then he turned to Bilbo with an
engaging smile. "What are we going to do, Cousin Bilbo? Are you going to
play with me?"

Bilbo chuckled, and gazed fondly at the bright little face, with its mop of
chestnut curls, pointed Took nose and huge green eyes. He'd not spent very
much time with this little one yet, but he found himself quite taken with
the lad. While there was very little physical resemblance, save a little bit
round the mouth and chin, for some reason Pippin put Bilbo in mind of Frodo
at that same age. Perhaps it was his openly affectionate nature and his
obvious curiosity.

He took the small hand in his own, and led Pippin back up to Bag End, only
half listening to the child's stream of questions.

"I have something I need to do, right now Pippin," Bilbo told him, leading
him into the study. It was important that he do his accounts. Tomorrow was
the last Highday of the month, and he had wages to pay to the Gamgees and
also to Widow Rumble for his laundry. And he had several bills to settle
with the local merchants. He lifted Pippin up onto the settee, and going to
the bookcase, pulled a large book with a blue leather cover from the bottom
shelf. It had been a favorite picture book of his own as a child, and had
amused countless young cousins. Little Frodo had learned to sound out some
of the words, and Merry used to spend ages poring over the complex
illustrations with various things cleverly hidden in them.

"Here, Pippin-lad, you look at this, while I work at my desk for a little
while."

The child's face fell, but he took the book, and said "Thank you, Cousin
Bilbo," in a dejected tone. He would much rather be outside playing.

Bilbo felt a twinge of guilt, as he looked at Pippin's crestfallen
expression, but he hardened his resolve and went to his desk and opened his
ledger.

He was beginning to feel rather pleased with his progress, when he began to
hear a sound: thump! thump! thump! thump! Turning with a scowl, he saw
Pippin, upside down on the settee, his furry little feet kicking
rhythmically against the back of the seat, and the book on the floor.

"Peregrin, don't you wish to look at the book?" asked Bilbo, surprised.

"I did. I'm finished. It was a very *nice* book," he said politely, "but can
we go *outside* now?" His face was alarmingly red from hanging upside down,
but he did not seem to mind.

"Not quite yet, Pippin. In a few more minutes. Please stop kicking."

"All right." He wriggled around to sit upright.

Bilbo turned back to his ledger.

He had just begun to figure a rather tricky sum to do with an amount owed to
the butcher, when a young voice piped up.

"One hundred apple pies
Cooling on the sill."

Bilbo gave a groan. "Pippin, please do not sing that song."

Pippin sighed.

Bilbo shook his head, and returned his attention to the butcher.

"Worms, worms, worms, worms, worms." sang the little voice, attaching the
words to a catchy melody Bilbo had never heard before.

"Pippin!" His voice was sharp and impatient.

"Don't you like that song, Cousin Bilbo? I made it myself. I made another
one, but it's not about worms." Pippin tipped his head back, and closing his
eyes began to warble "I like toffee. I like it fine. I like toffee. It's all
mine."

Rolling his eyes, Bilbo closed his ledger. "Come along, Pippin. We'll go
outside now. You can play in the front garden." Perhaps a smoke on the bench
by the doorstep while he watched the lad play. He would finish his accounts
after Frodo and Merry got back.

He had barely closed his mouth before Pippin had shot like an arrow to the
front door, and stood impatiently hopping from one foot to the other. Bilbo
shook his head, and opened the door.

Bilbo stepped to the side, and sat down on the bench, taking out his pipe.
Pippin pelted headlong out the door, and halfway down the path, when he came
to a halt at the sight of a small rump sticking out of the herbaceous
border. Bilbo grinned, wondering if little Pippin would remember young Sam,
whom he had met a few times as a faunt.

Sam sat up startled, from his task of weeding. It had only been recently
that the Gaffer had allowed him to do it unsupervised, and he had been
concentrating very hard.

"Master Pippin!" he exclaimed.

Pippin stared for just a moment, and then crowed "You're Sam! You're Merry's
and Frodo's Sam! I remember you!"

Bilbo nearly laughed aloud at the comical expression Sam's face held on
being addressed that way. But it was clear that Sam's status as Merry's and
Frodo's friend held much more significance to Pippin than his more proper
identification as "the gardener's son". He could hardly contradict the
smaller child.

Sam settled for blushing furiously, and saying "Er, yes, Master Pippin, I
suppose I am."

Pippin bent over and looked at the border. "What are you doing?"

"I'm weeding the flowerbed, Master Pippin--pulling out the weeds, like, so
they won't choke the flowers."

"Oh!" said Pippin, taken aback. "They shouldn't do that! It's not nice!"

Sam chuckled. "No, Master Pippin, it's not. That's why I have to take them
out."

Pippin stuck a hand among the flowers. "Is that a weed?"

"No!" said Sam in alarm. "That's not a weed! That's a pink, that is. This,
see, this is a weed--it's common ragwort, and it don't belong there." And
Sam gave the small invader a yank, to prove his point.

"Is *this* a weed?" and Pippin grasped another plant. "It's not a pink."

"No, Master Pippin, them's bachelor's buttons!"

Pippin giggled. "It doesn't *look* like buttons! See?" and he pointed to the
little buttons on his shirt.

"Well," said Sam patiently, "when the flowers come out, they do, just a bit,
look like blue buttons."

"Oh! Can I help?" He started to reach in among the flowers again.

"Oh no, Master Pippin! That wouldn't be proper!" said Sam, horrified. The
Gaffer was at the south end of the property, turning the compost, but if he
came along and saw this tiny gentlehobbit trying to help him, his father
would have some very hard words for him.

Sam cast a pleading look up to the front of the smial, where Bilbo had been
watching the exchange with amusement. Bilbo decided to put the little
gardener out of his misery.

"Come away, Pippin, and let Samwise do his work."

Pippin backed up, and looked at Sam longingly for a moment, and then trotted
back up to where Bilbo sat. He clambered onto the bench and sat swinging his
feet. "You said 'Samwise'."

"That is his name," replied Bilbo.

"Like I'm 'Pippin' sometimes and 'Pip' sometimes and 'Peregrin' sometimes?
And sometimes Merry is 'Meriadoc'?"

"Yes, exactly like that."

"Why isn't Frodo ever 'Fro'?" he asked.

Bilbo chuckled. "I don't know; perhaps because his name is short enough
already. And he was 'Fro' for a while, when Merry was a faunt."

Pippin gave a scornful snort. "That doesn't count," he said authoritatively.

He sat kicking his heels for another moment, and then suddenly he exclaimed
"Watch this!" He hopped off the bench, and ran to the lawn, where he did a
spectacular series of cartwheels, finally landing on his back. Then he
sprang up, and ran back to Bilbo.

"Did you see that?"

Bilbo, who had goggled a bit at the energetic display, said "I most
certainly did!"

"Vinca and Pimmie taught me how to do that! See what else I can do?" And
once more he ran down the lawn, and launched into several somersaults. He
finished up under the ash tree near the gate, and lay on his back for a
moment, before jumping up to reach for its lowest branch. He hung by his
arms, swinging back and forth for a while, and then started to pull himself
up.

"Peregrin!" Bilbo called sharply. "Do not climb the tree!"

The lad dropped to the ground and ran back up to Bilbo. "I'm sorry! I almost
forgot Frodo made me promise not to climb trees by myself!"

Bilbo was a bit taken aback by this. Had Frodo been teaching this little one
to climb trees? He'd have to have words with his ward about that. The child
was far too young for that sort of dangerous undertaking!

"You could come climb it with me, Cousin Bilbo! I know you can climb trees,
'cause Frodo told me when you climbed up high when you were lost in the
forest with the Dwarves and so you could climb up with me and maybe there
would be some butterflies here too and wouldn't you like to climb up with me
and see them?"

Bemused by this breathless recital, Bilbo shook his head. "I am afraid not,
Pippin. I am far too old to be climbing trees now."

"Are you old?"

"I am one-hundred-and-five." This was said with a certain amount of
smugness--he was rather proud of his fitness at his age.

Pippin's mouth dropped open in astonishment. He stared for a moment, and
then began to look at his fingers, holding them up one at a time--then he
began to tick off his toes. He stopped and looked at Bilbo. "That's too many
for me to count."

Bilbo laughed aloud, and gave the child a hug, which Pippin returned. Then
the lad hopped off the bench once more, and began to run about the garden
again, this time singing a nursery song.

He smiled to hear after a few moments Sam's voice joining the song, though
the gardener's lad did not stop his work. This really was quite pleasant,
out here in the late spring sunshine, watching the children and listening to
them sing. He had never met a child quite so energetic as Pippin, and the
lad did not show any signs of slowing down. Now Pippin was hopping on one
foot, down the path, trying to land exactly in the middle of each paving
stone, and avoid stepping upon the cracks. Bilbo could remember doing just
such a thing himself as a child.

Next Pippin picked up a small stick, and began to poke along the hedge with
it, occasionally stopping to stick his small face in the flowers.

Bilbo smiled and relaxed, placing his pipe upon the bench, his head began to
nod. He told himself he really should not drowse off.

Suddenly, the peace was broken by a blood-curdling shriek. His eyes flew
open. Pippin sat at the bottom of the garden by the hedge screaming. Sam
flew down to him, and Bilbo followed as fast as his feet could take him.

By the time Bilbo arrived on the spot, Sam was seated on the ground, trying
to comfort the crying child in his lap.

"It--it--it--*bit* me!" Pippin was sobbing, holding his hand upon his cheek.

Sam pulled the hand away gently, as Bilbo hovered over them both-- he'd
never hear the end of it from Paladin and Eglantine if their dear baby had
come to harm.

"Tell me what it was, Master Pippin?" Sam said, as he looked at the swelling
on the little face.

"It was a bee! It *bit* me!"

Sam pulled out a handkerchief from one pocket and a water flask from
another, with which he soaked the handkerchief. "Mr. Bilbo, do you have some
pipe-weed?"

Bilbo, astonished at young Sam's presence of mind, handed him his
leaf-pouch. Sam put a large pinch onto the wet cloth, and applied it to the
swelling.

"It's not a bite, Master Pippin, it's a sting. He stuck his stinger into
you." Pippin had calmed a bit and was just sniffling now.

"The wet pipe-weed will pull the stinger out, and make it feel better,"*
said Sam soothingly. "He's probably very sorry he stung you, Master Pippin.
He'll die now he's got no stinger."

"Oh!" cried Pippin, and burst into tears again. "I *killed* it!"

For the first time since Pippin screamed, Sam looked taken aback, and gave a
puzzled look to Bilbo.

Bilbo knelt down and gathered Pippin into a hug, careful not to let the
handkerchief get loose. "It's all right, Pippin, that's just the way of
things for bees."

"But what if he has a family?" Pippin sniffed.

"There are so many bees in his family, and as I am afraid bees are not at
all clever about such things, they will not really notice."

"Oh." Pippin's sobs began to subside, and he relaxed into Bilbo's embrace,
his little thumb finding its way into his mouth. "It feels better, Sam," he
murmured.

Just then the Gaffer walked up. "What's all this then?" he asked.

Sam looked up at his father. "Master Pippin got stung by a bee."

"Yes," said Bilbo, "and I am most thankful to young Samwise here, for his
use of the wet pipe-weed! I had no idea that is what one does for
bee-stings! He's a very clever lad!"

Sam blushed at the praise, and the Gaffer looked gratified. "Well, seems as
if that's summat a gardener needs to know, Mr. Bilbo. I've had to do the
very same for Sam myself a time or two. Is the little Master feeling
better?" he added to Pippin.

Pippin turned his gaze up to the Gaffer's face. "Uh-huh," he nodded. He
ducked his face shyly into Bilbo's weskit, and burrowed further into his
cousin's embrace.

"I think," said Bilbo, "that it is time to go back inside and prepare lunch.
Won't you and Sam join us in the kitchen, Master Hamfast?" Bilbo asked more
out of habit than of expecting an affirmative answer.

"No, and thank you, Mr. Bilbo," the gardener answered as he always did. "The
Missus'll have summat fixed for us at Number Three. Come along, Sam. You can
finish weeding the border later."

Pippin pulled his thumb from his mouth, and turned his tear-ravaged face up.
"Please, Mr. Gaffer? Mayn't Sam stay? I like him. I could play with him
'till Merry and Frodo get here!"

Hamfast Gamgee gazed at the little Took as if mesmerized, and then, shaking
himself out of his daze, said, "All right. Go along wi' ye, Sam, and do just
as Mr. Bilbo says, and keep Master Pippin out'n any more trouble."

Sam gaped at his father in astonishment, and then with a grin said "Yes,
sir!"

After a splendid luncheon, Pippin went back out in the front garden with
Sam, who obligingly chased him, squealing, about the garden. Sam had just
caught Pippin and was swinging him high overhead, when they heard familiar
voices calling from the lane.

"Oh!" cried Pippin. "It's Merry and Frodo!"

And scarcely waiting for Sam to set his feet to the ground, he pelted
through the gate and barreled into his most-beloved and best cousins.