Fool of a Brandybuck
by Gonzai
Rated G: Yes, I’m shocked, too.
Disclaimer: Merry and Pippin are not mine. Well, duh. Just taking them for a spin.
Summary: Pre-Fellowship tale. Merry is fourteen, Pippin just turned six and is very proud of that.
Pippin sat on the tiny swing that hung from the oldest tree within view of his family’s home, and wished his legs were long enough to touch the ground. They weren’t now, and likely wouldn’t be long enough until he was at least a teenager, and until he could touch the ground he couldn’t push himself enough to make the swing move. Furthermore, it was a rather extensive task for Pippin to climb up on the swing by himself, made all the harder today by only having one hand to climb up with. Obviously, it was not a well-designed swing, but Pippin was not old enough to understand that yet, and his family did not mention anything about it, considering how the swing came to be. After all, the swing had been not-very-well built by Pippin’s beloved cousin Merry. When Merry had observed the tiny Pippin’s happiness on the Bolger’s swing, he had decided he would build one for his little cousin, and given that Merry was eleven at the time, he had actually done a reasonably good job of it. He’d simply forgotten to allow for how small Pippin was.
Sometimes one of Pippin’s sisters would give him a push, but only Provinca was close enough to Pippin’s age to really pay him much mind, and she was away with their mother that morning. This was just as well, because if Pippin’s mother had seen him on the swing she might well have insisted his father cut the swing down at once, before Pippin fell off and injured himself. What Pippin really wanted right now was for Merry to visit, and push him until Pippin was as high as the branches and squealing with delight at a volume to rival the pigs in the pen at the bottom of the hill. But Merry had not visited in a few days, and Pippin did not understand why.
Merry’s absence was another thing Pippin’s family was reluctant to explain, although his parents certainly ought to have told him; besides, Pippin had eavesdropped upon them three nights earlier and heard much of their discussion. Pippin did not hear the entire conversation though, which caused him even more confusion.
Pippin had very much wanted a bit of water even though it was well past his bedtime, and since his parents already seemed very upset about something, he had resolved not to disturb them. After all, he was a big boy now and could fetch it for himself. And so he had tip-toed past the sitting room and heard what his parents said.
‘I tell you, Paladin,’ he heard his mother say, ‘it’s not at all natural, the interest he takes in our littlest one. Nearly every day he comes to play with Peregrin, and he stays with him the whole day. Doesn’t spend a minute with his own family, and far too much with ours. I’d say it’s high time his parents took a mind to him.’
‘I would be happier if you would not criticize my sister in such a way,’ his father answered a bit crossly. ‘And he is my sister’s child, and her only one. If he wishes to spend time with his near relatives then all the better, and certainly better than some others he could associate with.’
‘But he doesn’t spend time with us; he spends time with Peregrin. I’m telling you, it’s not right, and now look what’s happened!’ his mother fretted.
‘Eglantine, I assure you, I am not at all pleased by yesterday, and I will be speaking to Saradoc firstly in the morning. But the boy has no brothers or sisters, and Peregrin has no brothers. I don’t find it nearly so odd as do you, boys need to play with other boys.’
‘Would that they were playing! What kind of playing means I have to take my littlest to the healers? It’s not right – did you hear something?’
Pippin didn’t think he had made a sound, but it was possible he had. And he was quite sure this discussion was about himself, and his parents would be extremely cross if they knew he had heard them, so he quickly scampered back to his room and was back in his bed mere moments before his mother looked in on him. She seemed satisfied that Pippin had not left his bed and departed, leaving a very confused Pippin to wonder if his parents had been talking about Merry, and if so, what his parents had meant.
But it was now three days later, and still he had not seen Merry. Pippin could not remember Merry having been away for so long without first explaining why he would be gone. Really, Merry simply was always there. Pippin had been four before he even understood that Merry was not, in fact, a member of his family; Merry was there so often Pippin had naturally assumed Merry was his older brother, and discovering Merry was actually his cousin had been a huge surprise.
But it hadn’t mattered a bit to Pippin; the alternative was to spend time with his sisters, and Pippin was quite certain he would not like girl things. He much preferred Merry’s entertainments. Merry had taught Pippin to climb a tree and tease the farm animals and take apples from the neighbor’s bins, and he had promised to teach Pippin to swim. If he had thought about it, Pippin would have been fairly sure Merry had never happened to mention these things to Pippin’s parents, in fact, Merry had been quite adamant that Pippin not say a word to his parents about the swimming. Perhaps that was why they were upset, they did not want Pippin to swim.
And Merry had built a swing for him, and would come to push Pippin almost every day. But now he did not come, and Pippin was feeling quite lonely. His arm had begun to ache a bit, too, and he was beginning to feel very sorry for himself. He sniffled a bit, and thought about crying, but Merry had told him that only girls cried, so he decided he would try not to. But he wasn’t very good at not crying, just like he wasn’t very good at climbing trees, and soon the tears were rolling down his cheeks, and he was trying so hard to hold them back, he didn’t hear the leaves rustling behind him.
“Pippin! Pippin!” a voice hissed behind him and startled him so much he nearly fell off the swing. “By the Old Took, don’t fall off and break the other one! They’ll surely blame me for that, too! And I couldn’t bear for you to be hurt again.”
Pippin just managed to hang onto the swing with one hand, and when he was certain he would not slide right off, he peered behind him. There was Merry, crouched behind a shrub just a few feet away and looking quite frightened.
“Your parents aren’t around, are they?” Merry whispered. “I can’t stand to have one more grownup tell me what an awful young hobbit I am. I might even begin to believe them.”
“Merry!” Pippin squealed. “Oh, I missed you so! I need someone to push me, and – oh, no, my parents are away, but I expect my mother will be back any time now.”
“Just my luck,” Merry said softly. “The first I escaped my house in three days, and I can’t stay at all - I’ll wind up trapped there for months if I’m caught
here.”
Pippin was puzzled by Merry’s odd complaints. “But why would you be trapped in your house? And who ever said you were an awful hobbit? You’re my favorite hobbit, and I’ll tell
anyone so!”
“Yes, Pippin, I do believe you would,” Merry answered. “But you’re the only one who thinks so right now, I’m afraid. And I hear the pony now, it’s your mother I’m sure and I must get away now. Promise me, Pippin, you won’t tell anyone I was here?”
Pippin was now completely baffled. “If you wish me to, Merry, I’ll say nothing.”
“Good! I’ll come back again, first chance that I have, I promise you Pip,” Merry said, and with that he quietly scampered into the brush behind Pippin’s home, out of sight and hearing of anyone at the house.
“Peregrin!” Pippin heard his mother calling for him the moment the cart arrived in front of the house, and reluctantly but carefully he climbed down from the swing and ran to the front of the house. “Peregrin, you’ll be the end of me yet! You were supposed to stay in the house!” his mother scolded.
“But it’s very pretty outside today,” Pippin whimpered. He felt very badly when he was scolded, and it seemed to happen very often of late.
“Yes, yes it is, I suppose one of us should have stayed home with you so you could play outside,” his mother sighed.
Pippin decided since he was already scolded, he might as well see what else he could say. “No one would have to stay home with me, if Merry were here,” he declared. “He could
have taken me outside.”
“What!” his mother shrieked. “And have you hurt again? No, I simply shan’t hear of it. That fool of a Brandybuck is not to set foot anywhere near this house ever again, and
that is the end of it! Now get into that house!”
Pippin could not remember his mother ever having turned such colors in her face before, but he really didn’t have time to think about this as he knew he had but a moment to race into the house before his behind would be swatted, and he didn’t care to have his bottom hurt like his arm was beginning to. Nor did he take his time inside the house, running straight to his room and closing the door.
So that was why Merry had not been to see him; his mother had forbidden it. ‘Poor Merry,’ Pippin thought sadly, ‘who will he play with, if he cannot come here?’ Then Pippin realized, who would he play with, if Merry was not allowed? There were no other children of his age in that village of the Shire, and he’d never cared for the older children, nor they for him. Merry was his only friend. And he would never see him again. At least he doubted it.
Even worse, it was Pippin’s own fault, he was certain. If he were better at climbing trees, none of this would ever have happened. He had been so sure he could climb any tree. And when Merry had remarked he thought the apple there at the high branch of the tree looked very tasty, and Pippin knew how much Merry loved apples, then Pippin had determined he would get that apple for Merry, no matter what. Merry had laughed – ‘you’re a little squirrel of a hobbit, Peregrin Took, if you can climb that high! I can hardly wait to see it!’ – and he helped Pippin into the tree.
Pippin had laughed, too, and he had almost gotten to the branch with the apple when his foot had slipped, and he had fallen out of the tree. At the last moment Pippin had made one more try to grab the apple, but he missed, and he had fallen onto that hand. His arm had made a very odd sound rather like biting into an apple, and it had hurt very, very awfully much. But Pippin didn’t remember how much his arm had hurt so much as he remembered how frightened Merry had been, and how Merry had cried even though that was a girl thing. ‘Oh, Pippin, I’ve gone and killed you!’ Merry had shrieked, and then Merry had picked him up and run straight back to Pippin’s home. And Pippin’s mother had been so upset that she had struck Merry across the face before she pulled Pippin away from Merry, and that was the last Pippin had seen of Merry before today.
Yes, of course it was his fault, all of it. If he could have gotten the apple without falling, everything would be perfectly all right now. ‘Merry’s not an awful young hobbit, I am,’ Pippin whispered, and threw himself upon his pillow for a good cry, and then he went to sleep.
When Pippin awoke it was nearly dark outside. He’d slept right through luncheon, and probably supper too, but he was not hungry. He didn’t deserve his lunch or supper or any other meal, he was such an awful little hobbit, and Pippin nearly cried again. He had caused so much trouble for Merry, the only hobbit who’d ever wanted to be his friend, and here he’d gone and ruined everything.
The knock on the door gave him a start, and fearing it might be his mother, Pippin didn’t answer. “Pippin?” It was his sister, Provinca. “Pippin, do you want any dinner? We’ll be sitting down in a moment.”
“No,” Pippin answered her softly. “I’m not hungry at all.”
Provinca opened the door and peeked inside. “Are you sure? I’ve not known you to refuse a meal.”
“I’m sure,” Pippin said, “for I don’t deserve it.”
“Oh, Pip,” Provinca closed the door and came to sit beside him. “Why don’t you think you should have dinner? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yes, I did. I fell, and I got Merry into trouble, and I’ll never see him again, and it’s all my fault,” Pippin whimpered.
Provinca thought about this a moment. “Well, I suppose it is your fault, although really Pip, you’re too small to blame yourself for it. You’re still a baby yet.”
“I am not!” Pippin sat up straight. “I’m not a baby! I’m a big boy now, Merry says so, so it’s true!”
“Calm down, Pip!” Provinca was trying not to laugh at him, Pippin could tell, and he felt his ears turning red with shame. “All right then, you’re not a baby. But you’ll have to start acting like a grownup.”
“What would a grownup do? I don’t think I know,” Pippin asked, his ears reddening all the more.
“Well, I think when grownups do something wrong, they say that they’re sorry, and then everyone says that it’s all right, and then it is all right,” Provinca answered after thinking a bit.
“So if I tell Merry I’m very sorry I fell out of the tree and got him in trouble, then he can come back and visit me?” Pippin brightened a bit. Perhaps things weren’t so bad after all.
“I think so,” Provinca said. “I’m going to dinner. Will you come?”
“I – maybe. Maybe I will,” Pippin told her, and she left. But Pippin had no intentions of going to dinner now. No, he knew what he had to do, he had to find Merry and tell him how sorry he was. Then everything would be right again. But he would have to go to Merry’s home to tell him, and as he was sure his mother would never let him go, he would have to escape the house and go to Merry’s without anyone knowing.
Merry had taught him how to leave the house without being seen or heard – hurrah for Merry! – but Pippin had almost never gone to Merry’s house except by the road, which he could not do now without being caught. Merry had taken him a roundabout way through the trees once or twice, but not in the dark. But Pippin was sure he would remember how to get there, and he set off into the trees.
Pippin thought he must have walked for miles, and still he was not at Merry’s. Indeed, he really didn’t know quite where he was. He supposed he must be lost, and while he had never been lost before, he was given to believe it was a bad thing. And now he was thirsty, and hungry as well. Pippin sat on a rock to contemplate his misery, and after a few minutes he thought he heard water. He followed the sound and found himself by a large stream, the biggest one he’d ever seen, and he drank his fill happily. As he got up, he thought he saw something move a few feet away.
A frog, perhaps? Merry had once brought him a frog, he had very much liked the way it hopped and jumped, but it had escaped. Where had this frog gone? There was a splash. That must be the frog, Pippin decided, and stepped into the water, and then he went a bit further because he thought the frog had jumped away again. Then he slipped on a rock, and fell into the water, and the water ran much faster here and he could not get his feet upon the ground, and then the water was over his head and he couldn’t breathe. Pippin wished Merry had gone ahead and taught him to swim, because now he really needed to know how, and he didn’t, and he really wished he could breathe.
Merry had decided against having dinner as well. He had succeeded in retreating to his home and getting back into his room without being noticed, and he had stayed in his room since then, although there was nothing unusual about this. He had been forbidden to leave his room except for meals since the Tooks had appeared at his parents’ door and Eglantine Took had insisted that Merry be forever barred from seeing Pippin. He had cried out when he heard her demand, and his parents had forced him to his room immediately. After the Tooks had left, his father had returned and had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was not to leave his room for the time being, and that he was not to see Pippin again ever. Then his father had left, and Merry had cried for hours.
He had cried quite a bit the last few days too. It pained him so much to even think of Pippin, and what he had done to his poor little cousin, and that he would never again see little Pip. It was his fault, certainly. His father was right, he was nearly grown now and should have the sense not to have allowed Pippin to climb the tree, let alone encourage him to do so. And he should be grateful that Pippin had only broken his arm, and was not permanently damaged. But he already missed Pippin terribly, and he wished he could tell Pippin so, and that he was sorry he had allowed the whole thing to happen.
But his Aunt Eglantine had made her position perfectly clear, as Merry would not soon forget. Surely his parents had cause to swat his bottom from time to time, but they had never done worse, and no other grownup had ever touched him, much less struck him, and the shame burned him as much as the welt on his face. Perhaps they were right, and he was an awful hobbit. Oh, but he missed Pippin.
It was not long past dinnertime when Merry heard the commotion at the door. Much as he wanted to listen, he had jeopardized himself enough for one day, and he opted to remain where he was, which may or may not have proved a good decision when the door was flung open and his Aunt Eglantine marched in. She stormed towards Merry, causing him to retreat up against the far wall, while his parents frantically pulled on her dress in an attempt to slow her progress.
“Meriadoc Brandybuck, what have you done with my child!” his Aunt screamed, and raised her hand to strike him but his uncle, clearly calmer, pulled her back.
“Meriadoc has not left this room or this house since your last visit!” his father thundered. “Whatever has become of Peregrin, my son had nothing to do with it!”
“Pippin? What has happened to Pippin?” Merry cried. He had already done far too much to the tiny hobbit, if something else had happened, well, he simply would not be able to bear it.
“Peregrin has disappeared,” his uncle Paladin responded, still clutching tightly to his wife. “He did not come down for his dinner, and he is gone from the house.”
“What did you do to him?” his aunt screamed again, and lunged for Merry. He flattened himself against the wall and squealed, thinking he would be struck again.
This time it was his father who pulled her back. “If you ever lay a hand on my son again, it is you who shall be banned from my home!” he roared.
“Meriadoc, please, if anyone would know where Pippin might have gone, surely you would?” his mother asked.
Merry dearly wished he could have given an answer, but in the whirling confusion of his mind he could not think of anywhere Pippin might have gone where he would not already have been found, and all he could do was shake his head.
“We’ll have to start searching,” Paladin said urgently, “Peregrin is far too small to be out alone, and the night is getting colder.”
“Please,” Merry whispered, “let me help.”
“I think you should stay here,” his father told him, not unkindly.
“No, I must look for him!” Merry cried.
His aunt appeared as though she would say something very unkind, but her husband glared at her and she said nothing. “Meriadoc may be of help, please bring him,” his uncle said, and half-dragged his wife outside.
Pippin still was not found by the time they returned to the Took home, and while many of the neighbors had agreed to assist in the search, no one was particularly hopeful that the tiny hobbit would be found before morning. Provinca, in particular, was heartbroken for her little brother, and Merry went to speak with her, knowing that if Pippin would have spoken to anyone else, it would have been her.
Merry did not even get a chance to ask her. “I should have brought him to dinner with me!” she wailed. “But I left him and he’s gone, I lost my little brother!”
“Provinca!” Merry tried to sound stern and failed miserably. “What did Pippin say to you? Do you remember anything?”
Provinca stopped wailing long enough to think. “I told him grownup hobbits say they’re sorry,” she answered.
Merry frowned. “That’s no help at all. Didn’t he say anything?”
“Well, yes, he asked if he told you he was sorry, would everything be all right againhe must have gone looking for you!” Provinca realized it at the same moment as Merry.
“But he wouldn’t go to my house by the road, so” Merry raced back to the sitting room. “I think Pippin went into the woods!” he shouted, and darted out the door and ran towards the trees as fast as he could. But his home wasn’t that far from the Took’s, and he was home in only a few minutes, and there was no sign of Pippin.
‘He must have gotten lost,’ Merry thought, ‘in the dark, surely he would have.’ So he went back and began to look for any sign that a small hobbit might have been by. After a time he found something; one of Pippin’s buttons, caught in a bush. Perhaps Pippin lost the trail here. Merry left the path and found himself walking towards the Brandywine River, the sound of the water growing louder and louder. He could hear the water splashing, then Merry thought he heard an unusually loud splash. He knew Pippin couldn’t swim. But he could find trouble.
“Pippin!” he shouted, running towards the river. Sure enough, he could hear the sound of something much larger than a fish struggling in the river, and with nothing better to go on than the sound, Merry dove into the river.
Most hobbits cannot swim, but many Buckland hobbits can. Merry was a Bucklander; he loved swimming in the river, and was quite good at it. But he could not find things in the river in the dark, and after diving under several times he still had not found anything but rocks, nor could he hear any more splashing. Despairing, he dove one more time, and grasped about the river bottom for anything which did not belong there. This time, his hand found a piece of cloth within it, and he closed his hand upon it and pulled it up to the surface.
The cloth was Pippin’s coat, and Pippin was still inside it, but still and lifeless. Merry swam back to the bank as fast as he could and pulled Pippin out of the water, but the tiny hobbit did not breathe. “Pippin! Pippin, please breathe!” Merry cried, shaking Pippin with great force in his panic, much harder than he ever would have shaken Pippin normally. But his shaking must have had some effect, for suddenly Pippin spewed a great amount of water and muck upon Merry, and commenced choking and gagging.
“Oh, Peregrin Took, you have frightened me far too much,” Merry sighed in relief, hugging his little cousin tightly even as Pippin gasped for breath. “And your family as well. I should think you should be the one kept to your room, so we shall not have to worry about you further.”
“But I can get out of my room, Merry – you showed me how, and I did!” Pippin coughed proudly. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am that everyone’s cross with you because I fell out of the tree so I tried to go to your house.” Pippin stopped to spew out more of the river’s bottom. “Then I was lost. Lost is bad, isn’t it Merry? I don’t think I want to be lost again.”
“No, Pippin, please do not be lost again. I doubt I could survive it,” Merry told him. “And I will take pains to make sure you are not lost again, or injured, or any other terrible thing. I’m sorry about the tree, too. It is time I was a responsible hobbit, and made sure this sort of thing does not happen again.”
Pippin was silent for a bit, except for coughing up still more water. Then he looked up at Merry, his eyes filled with worry. “No more climbing trees?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh.” Pippin paused. “Does this mean you won’t teach me to swim?”
“The contrary, my dear cousin, I’m going to teach you to swim starting tomorrow. I wouldn’t want this to happen again.”
“I don’t want this to happen again either. But I like climbing trees,” Pippin coughed yet again, and shivered badly in the cold air. Merry was completely soaked himself, but all the same he took off his scarf, a gray one with purple and yellow spots that he was quite proud of, and wrapped it about Pippin as best he could considering it was far too large for a such a tiny hobbit. Pippin smiled at Merry gratefully, then shivered again.
“Come on now Pip, I’m taking you home before you’re entirely chilled,” Merry picked up Pippin and started back towards the Took home. Even as he did so, he could hear the other hobbits coming, and found himself worrying. Pippin must have been worrying, too.
“Merry, I don’t want to go home. Not if they won’t let me see you any more.”
Merry was quite taken aback by Pippin’s statement, but he knew there was nothing to be done. Whatever the consequences, Pippin needed to be warm and dry, and the rest would have to wait, though Merry dreaded whatever decision their parents might make. “I suppose they might not, Pippin, we’ll see, but let’s not worry about that now,” he tried to reassure Pippin. But nothing could have prepared him for Pippin’s next question.
“Merry? Could I have another frog?”
As it turned out, Merry hadn’t needed to worry about Pippin’s mother. When they returned, Eglantine Took took one look at her only son, soaked to the bone and shivering, and fainted dead away. With the excitement caused by her fainting and Pippin’s safe if soggy return, Merry went unnoticed by all, and he wound up sitting in a corner, shivering in his own wet clothes before his mother finally discovered him. Within moments he was wrapped up in a blanket, sitting next to the fire and dreading what would come next, for his mother had already told him his father wished to speak with him.
He did not have long to wait, for by that time Pippin had been dried, warmed and put to bed. Both Merry’s father and Pippin’s father asked Merry to give a full account of the evening, which Merry did in what was for him an unusually straightforward and truthful if unenthusiastic manner. Merry had already concluded that Pippin’s parents would not change their minds. He was further convinced of this when Saradoc Brandybuck and Paladin Took left to discuss the situation amongst themselves.
Merry’s father returned sooner than Merry had expected. “Meriadoc, are you warm yet?” he asked.
“I’m not sure that I ever will really be warm again,” Merry replied, “but I am somewhat.”
His father nodded. “I spoke with Paladin, at length, regarding the circumstances, and I can say without hesitation that I am quite glad I am not married to his wife.”
Merry did not know quite how to respond to this, so he did not.
“You know that your mother and I determined that you should stay in your room for half a fortnight with regard to the tree-climbing incident,” his father continued. “You have three days remaining of this punishment, and you will spend them in your room.”
“Yes, sir,” Merry whispered. He did not think this was good.
“After the three days are gone, your punishment will be over. I believe, and Paladin agrees, that you now understand why encouraging Pippin to climb a tree was not appropriate.”
“Yes, sir!” Merry answered, a little more loudly. He hadn’t expected to be let off with his original punishment, he had thought he would be receiving more.
“Paladin is going to have to convince his wife, and I envy him not the least, however, we have agreed that afterwards, you may continue to visit with Pippin.”
Merry’s eyes widened considerably. “I – I may? Are you – I may?”
“Yes, Meriadoc, you may,” his father seemed somewhat amused. “I would suggest that you give his mother a rather wide berth. She does not care for you.”
“No, sir, that she doesn’t. And I promise I’ll take perfectly good care of Pippin! Like he was my brother!” Merry had never felt quite so relieved in his life.
“I’m not so sure that he isn’t,” his father answered. “For now, it’s time you went home. And straight back to your room.”
Surprisingly, this was fine with Merry. “And I’ll go gladly!”
THE END
©copyright 2000 Gonzai