Author's Note:  This chapter deals with some ideas that I'd been toying with for several years.  Some of it may have some resemblence to some other stories that have been written by authors I view as far superior to me, but I promise the ideas are my own and I didn't read their work until the idea was firmly in my head.  Also, GW left a review and got me thinking about mind reading and it brought an old idea back to my mind and so this chapter definitely went in a different direction than I'd planned.  If it is a totally epic fail, please keep the pulpy fruit and veges to a minimum.  The letter gets dealt with in the next chapter.

Day Four: sunrise to teatime

The early morning mist lay thick in the hollows of the Green Hills as Pippin stood quietly leaning with his arms folded on the top rail of the pasture fence; his empty tea mug dangling from the first two fingers of his right hand.  He’d come here to enjoy the sunrise and early morning’s quiet.  Yes, there were a few hobbits stirring, those that had to get to their work early, but they did so without disturbing the peace of the young day.  He sighed as he watched the sun begin to raise her head out of the mist.  He couldn’t help but be subtly reminded of a morning like this over 15 years ago when he, along with Sam and Frodo had awakened with the sun after leaving Bag End for Crickhollow.  It was only when he became aware of the dampness beginning to cling to the curls on his feet that he forced himself back to the present and began walking back toward the Smials.

“Well,” he said to no one, “the sun has taken up her duty for the day and so must I.”

-----

Regi found his cousin once again already at work when he entered the office.

“You know,” he said, “I’m about ready to ask who you are and what you’ve done with that laze-about Peregrin.”

“Oh, I’m still lazy,” Pippin answered, “I just choose to get the worst over with first and then I can take a good nap with a clear conscience.  Age and experience have taught me that much at least.”

“So, you’re thinking that if we make a good morning of it again, you can escape this afternoon.”

“I can hope.”  Pippin smiled but couldn’t completely hide his sigh.  He knew the days would only get longer and more filled with business needing his attention.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

Reginard looked at the daily schedule he kept for the Thain.  “You have the meeting with Mayor Samwise this morning and after luncheon we’re supposed to ride out and see how the early planting is going.”

“At least you’re not chaining me to this desk for the whole day.”

“Not yet, anyway,” Regi acknowledged.

“Until Sam arrives, maybe I can start researching the request the sheep farmers made yesterday.  Would you mind finding the reports on wool production and prices for the last five years?”

Regi looked at the books on the shelves.  “We have the last two years here,” he said, “and the book for this year’s records.  I’ll have to go to the library to pull the three years prior to that.”

Pippin took the two books Regi handed him.  “Please do go retrieve those older books.  I want more than just a two year average to work from.”

-----

When Regi returned from his errand, the sight that met his eyes left him standing speechless in the doorway.  There, pen in hand, sat Peregrin Took writing notes and figures on a scrap of paper.  The concentration was evident by the set of his jaw and the intensity of his eyes.  It was several seconds before Regi shut the door and put down the other books.

Without looking up, Pippin thanked Regi for his quick work.  “I think,” he added, “that if the numbers in those books are similar to what I’m seeing here, the Horde of the Thain should be quite substantial and the Great Smials should be operating well in the black.”

“You would think,” was all Regi would say on the matter.

Pippin continued to check figures and make notes until Regi reminded him that Sam would soon be arriving.

The Thain quickly cleared his desk so that no evidence of his work was visible to a visiting eye.

-----

Sam had barely tapped on the door before it popped open and Regi was admitting him to the office.

Pippin stood up with a genuine smile for his old friend.  “Come in and have a seat,” he said.

Sam took one of the chairs in front of the desk.  For some reason, he looked a little nervous.

“Can I offer you some tea?” Pippin asked.  “I’d offer something a little stronger but I think we’d be better off saving that till elevenses.”

“No thanks, Mr. Pippin.”

At the use of the more formal name, Pippin’s face settled into a frown.  “Why the sudden formality, Sam?  I thought Merry and I had finally got you out of that habit.”

“I wasn’t wantin’ to be too informal with you in your new position and all, and, to tell the truth, I’m really not sure how to address you now.”

Pippin sat forward in his chair and steepled his fingers on the desk.  “Nothing’s changed between us, Sam.  Merry and you and I are all the same people we were a week ago at this time.  I just happen to have buried a parent and moved into a new office.  Nothing the two of you haven’t done before me.  In a way, I’ve finally caught up to both of you again.  So you call me the same thing you have for the last several years.  I’m still just Pippin to my friends, even in this office.”

Oddly, this seemed to actually relax the Mayor.  “Very well, Pippin.  I guess I should get straight to the point.  You know the election for Mayor is comin’ up in just a few months.”

Pippin nodded.  “Yes.  The election and my presentation as Thain to the whole Shire will both be at the Lithe Days Fair.  To be honest, I’m looking forward to having you do the presentation.  It will mean a lot to me seeing you accept your second term as Mayor on the day I am saddled with all the responsibility for the Moot and Muster.”

“That’s just it,” Sam said, “I’m seriously thinkin’ about not running again.  I keep thinkin’ that I need to be home more with Rosie and the little ones and I’m not really sure that I’ve done all that much in the position as it is.”

“What!  Not running again for Mayor.  Sam, you have to.  It was supposed to be you, me and Merry as the Counselors of the North Kingdom.  And didn’t Frodo say you would be Mayor as many times as you wanted to be?  People have come to respect you in that office.  You’ve done more in seven years than old Will did in all his years in office.  I can’t think of anyone in the whole Shire I’d rather work with in an official capacity than you.  Have you even talked to Rose about this?  I mean, if she’s said that she wants you to give it up, then you owe it to her to do that; but, if she hasn’t asked you to, you need to talk it over with her.  Did it ever occur to you that she might like being the Mayor’s wife.

“I hadn’t thought of how she might actually like me bein’ Mayor, and going to all those banquets is really nice, but I just don’t know.”

Pippin got up from behind the desk and came and sat in the chair next to his friend.

“I’m going to tell you something, something that doesn’t leave this room.  I believe in my heart of hearts that Frodo wanted you to be Mayor for as long as you’re here.  He wanted your life to have a purpose beyond having been his gardener or even his dearest friend in darkest times.  He knew that you have so much to offer others.  You have a down-to-earth wisdom that I’ll never have.”  Here Regi nearly burst out laughing but covered it with a caught and Pippin cast him a mock-scathing look.  “You can pull me back when I rush into things before I weigh all the facts and you can bring Merry back to reason when he goes off on a high-minded tangent.  Frodo knew you had that ability with us and he knew we would need you to be a rock, a foundation, for us.  Sam, I’m not just saying this as Frodo’s cousin and your friend.  I learned more of Frodo’s heart and mind just before and just after he left than anyone would believe.  I’m not sure where it all came from, or sometimes quite how, but I will tell you that I had some of the most amazingly terrible and beautiful dreams around that time.  I know it was Frodo’s way of helping me understand things and cope with them.  He always helped me in ways no one else could and now I want to help you by passing my surety on to you.”

“This knowing,” said Sam hesitantly, “it’s part of the Sight, isn’t it?”

Pippin nodded.  “You know some of what Gandalf told me, enough to know that what I have is a real gift, and you know that Frodo has something similar, but his was enhanced by…, you know.  Anyway, I believe he sent those dreams to me to help me and hopefully others too.”

“All right,” Sam finally agreed.  “I’ll talk to Rose before making any decision about running again and I’ll make sure you and Merry are the first to know one way or the other.”

Pippin reached out and patted Sam’s hand.  “Good.  That’s all I can ask.  Now, do you have anything else we need to talk about, your Mayorship?”

“Nothin’ that won’t keep till after the election.”

“In that case, are you planning on heading home today, or are you going to enjoy our hospitality for another evening?”

“I think I’ll be headin’ back to Hobbiton this afternoon.  If I leave here right after luncheon, I should be home in time for supper.  Not to mention there’s a wine festival down in the South Farthing in a few days that I need to attend.”

“Ah, yes, the festivals.  Face it, Sam, you really don’t want to give up traveling around to all those fairs and festivals and sampling the best of everything the entire Shire has to offer.”

“You do have a point at that,” Sam acknowledged.

Pippin just nodded and smiled.

-----

Once Sam had left and before Pippin could jump back into his sheep research, Regi fixed the Thain with a look that said in no uncertain terms that it was time to tell a tale, a tale of faery wives and Tookish gifts.

Pippin dropped back into his chair behind the desk and sighed.  He felt like he’d been doing that a lot lately.

“All right.  Have a seat, Reg.  This could take a while depending on just how much you want to know.”

“If you don’t tell me enough to satisfy, I’ll keep asking questions till you do.”  He sat down in the chair opposite Pippin and made himself comfortable.

Pippin leaned back in his chair and his eyes took on a faraway look.  “During the weeks we stayed at Cormallen while we were all still resting and recovering from the war.  I was not the best patient, which should come as no surprise since I never was good at resting when I felt better than I really was.  Anyway, they had to figure out a way to keep me in my bed when I wanted to be out exploring and talking to my new friends.  Merry had told just about all his stories during those first few days after I woke up so someone else needed to keep me entertained.  Different people kept me company and told me all sorts of stories, some true and some fanciful, but the person who had the most success was Gandalf.  Apparently the old wizard had decided that this was a good time to impart some long-lost family history to me.

“The story started before the Fallohides crossed the mountains.  At the time, all the groups of hobbits had been watched over and guarded even though they didn’t know it.

“I guess I’d better take a step back and explain a couple things that hobbits have no real knowledge of.  We’re aware of the One known as Eru, the creator of all things but we’ve rarely, if ever, heard of the Valar, the servants of Eru.  From what I have learned it seems that they protect the world, not necessarily those in it but the world itself.  Under the Valar are the Maiar, and that’s what this story is really about.

“You’ve actually met one of the Maiar, Regi, for that’s what Gandalf was.  Yes, he was a wizard but that’s what the wizards were.  They were a special type of Maiar called the Istari.  I know, it gets complicated.

"Anyway, according to what Gandalf told me, these Maiar could take on the forms of the people they spent time among.  Gandalf looked like an old, wise man because that’s the form he was asked to take.  Others chose their forms to best suit their purposes and serve their Valar.  Not all the Maiar were good, but that’s another tale and Frodo already wrote a lot of it.  So, anyway, these Maiar were living in the world and watching over the peoples of the world, and sometimes living among them and even entering into relationships with them.

“So it was that a certain Maia, who had taken an interest in hobbits made it her special business to look out for the ancestors of our ancestors.  She, for she was a female, kept a close watch on all the hobbits but the Fallohides were her favorites.  Shortly after the Shire was established and all the clans settled into the areas they had claimed as theirs, this Maia decided that she really wanted to know what it was to be one of us so she took the form a hobbit maid.

“Gandalf didn’t go into the details of how she was courted by and eventually married to one of the Took forefathers.  Anyway, it is clear that they had children and sense the mother of these children was one of the immortal Maiar who had talents and abilities not possessed by mere mortals, some of those traits passed to her descendants.”

“You mean to tell me that we’ve got the blood of some immortal, wizardy-type person in us?”  Regi’s natural skepticism was in full force.  “Now wait, you said that Gandalf was telling you stories to keep you occupied while you were still recovering, Right?  Surely he was just weaving a tale to hold your attention.”

Pippin shook his head.  “No, Reg, he wasn’t.  He was telling me this to help me understand some things that happened to me both before our travels and during them.  He said that it was time I knew the truth.”

Regi was reluctant to let go of his doubt, but Pippin was so sure that all he could do was sit back and let his cousin continue the story.

“Now,” said Pippin, “I need to take another side trip in the story here.  I learned in Minas Tirith that even though the people of that city are descendants of the Numenoreans, some of them are more like their ancestors than others are.  Gandalf said of Denethor’s son Faramir that the blood of Numenor ran nearly pure in him while it did not in his older brother Boromir or their father.  I’m not sure how that happens but it is an important thing to know for the rest of my story.

“Apparently, the blood of Maiar can be the same as that of Numenor.  Some descendants can have it in purer form than others so that traits thought dead can suddenly reappear.  From what I learned from Gandalf, and I have tried to verify since I came home, some of us Tooks have purer or less pure Maiar blood in us.

“Regi, Gandalf’s words to me then still sometimes haunt me today, especially since they were so much like his comparison of Faramir and Boromir.  He said, ‘Peregrin Took, the blood of the Maiar runs nearly true in you as it has not for many generations of your family and clearly does not in your father.’ ”

Regi sat silent for some seconds and Pippin could see his thoughts writ large on his face.  Finally he spoke.“Then you really are as unnatural as they claim.”

Pippin shook his head in denial.  “No,” he said, “unless you want to name many in our family tree as such.  The Old Took had an unusually long life, several of his children did things that no other hobbit would dream of, many of our relatives, both living and dead, have had the Sight.  It just happened that all these things converged in me.  I still don’t know about the long life part, but I do have the Sight and a more heightened sense of empathy than even most hobbits have.  It is both a blessing and a curse and it has taken me years to learn to live with it and not let it get the better of me.

“When I heard that remark yesterday about me being able to read minds, it disturbed me a lot because I have been told that if I had been trained by someone such as Lord Elrond from childhood, I might have had some ability to read the intent and thought behind people’s words and the truth of what they said as well.  As it is, I have learned that, if I submit my mind to someone like the King, I can see vaguely within the minds of others, and he has said that his own abilities are enhanced when he and I work together to know another’s will and intent.”

Regi was astounded.  “You can’t read minds but the King can and he can use you to do a better job of it?”

“I suppose that that’s the clearest explanation I’ve heard of it.  It’s something we only tried three times and something I don’t really want to do again.  The last time we were almost caught doing it and that could have proven ill for the King.  Visiting delegations do not like to have their thoughts laid bare to their hosts and this group of Easterlings had brought their own mind reader with them.  We managed to detect him only moments before he would have found us out.  After that I never wanted to try that again.  It was also very exhausting and I would sleep the whole day after.

“Trust me, Regi, I do not and will not ever use any gift I have been granted to harm or harass anyone.  I have had to spend so much of my life keeping everyone’s thoughts and possible futures out of my mind that I really don’t want to go seeking them out.  So really the truth is, I can’t read minds because I won’t drop my carefully built defenses to do so.

“I’m going to ask that you keep what I have said in complete confidence.  I don’t want anyone suspecting that I am any more than I really am, just a Took who has had to take on a responsibility that I’m not sure I’m up to and who has the same fears, doubts, hopes and dreams as any other hobbit.  And trust me, no one wants to see some of the things I dream in the night.”

By the time Pippin had finished this tale, the noon meal was over and both he and his assistant were in need of sustenance.

“I’m really hungry,” Pippin commented, breaking the tension that had built up as he told his story.

“Well the kitchen staff would not be pleased to see us while they’re still preparing for tea.  Maybe we could take a late nooning over at one of the inns in Tuchborough.  It’s a lovely day and I think we both need a change of scene after this morning and we can take a quick look at the early planting.

Pippin nodded and rose from is chair.  Together the two  headed out of the office and out of the Smials and into a bright Spring afternoon.

-----

On their way back from Tuckorough, Regi asked the question that had stuck in his mind after Pippin had told his story.

“Why did the King need to be reading the thoughts of his guests?”

“Huh?” Pippin asked before realizing where Regi’s question was coming from.  “Oh, well it wasn’t that he was reading their minds about what they had come before him for.  It was more to protect himself from any plots to do harm to himself or his kingdom.  These were delegations from the people who had sided with Mordor and were now looking to restore relations with the newly reunited kingdom.  Aragorn didn’t want to be caught off guard if one of the delegates were to suddenly pull a knife or offer him a delicacy laced with poison.”

Regi looked horrified.

“Yes, Regi, that’s the way of men.  Be thankful you’re a hobbit, trust me.”

-----

By the time they got back, it was only about an hour until tea.  Pippin decided to go back to the office and do a little more digging through the records to help him figure the problem of the sheep farmers and the sale of fleece.