CHAPTER ONE: A pipeweed-worthy dilemma

* * *

"I think I heard something."

"It was probably the wind echoing in your hollow head."

"No, I heard something."

"Hold these."

Pippin couldn't help but let out a sigh as Merry shoved a large pile of various fruits vegetables into his arms, a few carrots and apples falling to the ground. "Farmer Maggot won't be very happy when he finds out that we were in his crops again," he warned, feeling slightly nervous. He cringed at the mere thought of the consequence if the farmer saw them. Merry merely picked up a rather large apple off the ground, dusted it, and smiled as he slipped it into Pippin's pocket.

It was late afternoon.  The farmer wouldn't be home until early evening, after his daily walk with his two precious canines. The sun still shone mercilessly in the sky and upon the backs of the two mischief-loving hobbits. They were somewhat concealed from onlookers within the tall cornstalk fields, but that didn't lift the fear from Pippin.

Merry, on the other hand, was as relaxed as ever. "But he won't find out.  We're just taking a few things. He won't even miss them," he reassured as he randomly picked an ear of corn off a stalk.

Eyeing his surroundings nervously again, Pippin bit his lip. "I sure hope not… I don't want those mutts of his after us," he admitted, wincing.  He remembered the last time they were caught for pulling mischief in the farmer's property.  His rear throbbed for weeks, and he had developed a fear for dogs ever since.

Merry snorted, but continued walking through the tall corn stalk field.  He was lucky to have escaped without consequence, and felt no guilt in 'borrowing'.  "Those dumb dogs couldn't find their way out of a wet paper bag even if their lives counted on it!"

"I sure hope you're right, but–" Pippin replied, but he trailed off at the end when he realized something wrong. His mind kept screaming the presence of danger, but it wasn't until then that he knew what the danger was. His eyes falling to the ground, he watched as a large shadow slowly crept upon everything before him.  It veiled the sun like a thick mysterious cloud.

His heart stopped at the sudden absence of light. He slowly looked up, the pile of vegetables dropping from his hands and tumbling to the dirt beneath, forgotten.

"No worries, Pip'!  We've done this many times before," Merry continued walking, oblivious to the shadow upon him.

"Merry…" Pippin started, his eyes wide in shock and jaw dropped to the floor.

Unfortunately, his friend did not catch on quite as quick as expected.  "I mean, we've been caught only once, but he has nothing to prove it was us!" he laughed.

"Merry…" Pippin repeated, unable to form any other words.

The hobbit froze, and slapped his forehead in frustration. "Mushrooms! That's what we're missing… mushrooms!" Merry exclaimed, spinning around and heading back towards Pippin. He skidded to a stop when he saw his friend staring up into the sky, the pile of vegetables at his feet.

Then, it hit him: the mysterious shadow that was cast. Merry's eyes slowly rose, and dropped his jaw at the figure he saw in the sky.

Gliding gracefully in the sun was a large creature, lean and stretched. Its great wings spanned impressively twice its body length, flaunting its beauty and marvel. But it was too far to tell what it was. "Is that… who… what… gah?" Pippin stuttered, after a long moment's silence.

Merry blinked, and realized he was holding his breath. Instead of answering the hobbit, he continued gawking at the creature, and squinted at the sun's blinding glare.  It was a strange thing, this flying creature.  A part of him wanted to run from it, screaming in a frenzy of terror, but another part of him wanted to merely stand there and continue gaping at its magnificence. He had never seen anything of the like.  "Pippin… it's becoming bigger," he pointed out curiously.

Pippin shook his head, his eyes still glued. "No, it isn't…" the Took answered. "It's just approaching us really quickly." Sure enough, the shadowed creature soared closer and closer, its great wings flapping in the air with great strength. The two hobbits could feel the increasingly strong winds push towards them as they stood, their hair flying wildly in reaction.

The creature's figure became clearer now, its red scales reflecting of the sun's rays. Its gleaming eyes glared evilly, and donned on the beast's face was a toothy grin that the hobbits dared not trust. "It's… a dragon!" Pippin exclaimed in a state of awe as he continued to gaze at the oncoming figure.

The phrase sank in almost immediately after it left his mouth. "IT'S A DRAGON!" Pippin repeated, this time with panic and fear. "FLY! FLY! IT'S A DRAGON!"

He needn't tell Merry twice. They both spun around and fled as fast as their stout legs could take them through the vast cornfield, not daring to turn and look back. "This is far worse than being chased by dogs!" Pippin screamed as he ran beside his friend.

"You can say that again! How do you s'pose we get out of this mess?" Merry shouted back in between breaths.

Pippin turned his head, and his eyes widened at the sight of the beast's giant deadly claws directly before them. There wasn't a moment to lose. "Duck!" he cried.

His friend shot him a look as if the other hobbit had grown an extra head. "This is no time to think about birds, Pip'!"

"No, Merry!  DUCK!"

Before Merry could protest again, he was shoved aside by his friend with a forceful push. He tumbled onto the ground without more than an 'Oomph,' his mouth gathering the foul taste of dirt.

Merry quickly lifted his head from the soil to watch the claws of the dragon pass directly above, missing him by a hair. "Pippin!" he yelled as he watched the dragon grasp an enormous clawful of the cornstalks, along with Pippin lost inside the plants. Merry could do nothing as his eyes followed the creature soar swiftly away, disappearing into the far distance.

And all was still once more. It was as if nothing happened at all, save the giant patch of dirt in place of where cornstalks once proudly stood. "Oh no," the hobbit gasped, recollecting his scattered thoughts as he rose to his feet.  Pippin was gone.  The beast took him, along with a chunk of Farmer Maggot's crops. 

And they had no mushrooms.

"Oh… no, no, no!" Without giving it a second thought, he spun around and did the first thing that came to his mind.

He fled.

* * *

Samwise looked up in the sky, suddenly feeling something amiss in the air. His eyes darted around him nervously, but all was as if it should be. There were a few hobbit children playing down the path, the birds were singing happily, and a wagon pulled by a small pony passed by, squeaking loudly.

"What's wrong?"

Sam snapped from his thoughts and saw Frodo questioning him innocently. "I don't know, but I have a bad feeling," he answered, shivering from a sudden chill down his spine.  And he knew better than to ignore his intuition.  "It's as if something horrid is going to happen…"

Frodo smiled, and gave his friend a reassuring pat on the back. "Don't worry, nothing ever happens in the Shire anyway."

"I sure hope so, Mister Frodo," he replied as he turned back to tending the flowers before him. "It's just that I never worry without a reason. And as the ol' Gaffer used to say, 'Always trust your first instinct, Sam', and my instincts say trou–"

The hobbit never did get to finish his sentence.  He was abruptly knocked over to the ground with a loud thud, the air squeezed from his lungs as a large object weighed him down. "Sam!" the stranger shrieked in between panting, two trembling hands seizing him by the collar and shaking him frantically.

"Stop–shake–ing–me," Sam ordered as his head rocked back and forth from the forceful hands of the stranger. The shaking ceased immediately, allowing Sam to catch his breath. He blinked away the floating stars in his eyes, and all was becoming clearer. His vision soon returned, and he was able to focus once more.

On top of him was a panic-stricken Merry, his face as if he had seen a ghost. "Am I ever glad to see you! I didn't mean to trip over you, but I didn't see you, but now I have, so I am really, really happy to have done that," he blurted out, all in breath. Beads of sweat rolled down the side of his face, and he was unusually edgier.  Sam didn't want to find out why.

"Merry, get off poor Samwise," Frodo commanded as he pulled the hobbit up and onto his feet and brushed some dirt off his cousin's clothes. "Start from the beginning, and try to breathe in between sentences."

"Weweresinmaggotzcropzandpippinwazstoledbysadragon," he sputtered, wheezing for air. This time, stars and planets were beginning to appear before his eyes.

Frodo raised his eyebrow at his friend, and sighed. "Have you been eating those special mushrooms again?" he asked, crossing his arms strictly.

Merry shook his head uneasily, his sweat-soaked hair whipping in the air and onto his face in reflex. After a long moment passed, the hobbit managed to catch his breath once again. "We were in Farmer Maggot's crops…" he began slowly, "…Andpippinwazstoledbyadragon."

"I think you need a smoke," Sam pointed out as he pulled a pipe he always kept handy in his pocket, and offered it to Merry. The latter stared at the pipe, but shook his head in refusal (though the thought of pipeweed did slightly lift his spirits.)

He took a deep breath, trying hard to calm his ever-racing heart. He started again, determined to at least tell his friends of the dire predicament he found himself in. Sure, his story would have to be told two words at a time, but as long as the message was clear and delivered.

"Pippin…" Merry paused, and took another deep breath before continuing, "…Was stole'd."

Another awkward moment passed between the three. It was Frodo who broke the silence, clearing his throat before speaking one simple word. "…Stole'd??"

A solemn nod was his reply. "Yes."

"Don't you mean 'stolen'?" Frodo corrected.

Sam raised an eyebrow and snorted. "And who would steal a hobbit?"

Merry's eyes widened. "A dragon!"

"A dragon?" Sam and Frodo gasped, and exchanged looks of awe.

"A dragon!" he confirmed.

Frodo stared at Sam, who stared at Merry, who was in return staring at Frodo. None knew what to do, how to react, or even what to say. Yet another long somber silence fell in between the three friends, whose eyes fell to the floor either in respect of the missing hobbit, or in pure confusion. Dragons were only mere characters of children's stories; surely they did not exist! 

But if they did not exist, why did Merry claim to have seen a dragon "steal" Pippin?

Of course, in true hobbit fashion, there was only one solution that could ease their troubled minds from the shock and perplexity of their dilemma. "Sam, I need your pipe," Frodo demanded, turning to the gardener.

Usually, the kindly hobbit would gladly hand over his precious pipe to his master, but not today.  "It's mine, bugger off," Sam snapped as he pulled out his pipe once again, and began patting his pockets for a light.

"I'm more traumatized than any of you, give it to me!" Merry piped in as he lunged for the pipe.

And so, the situation of Pippin and the dragon was temporarily pushed to the back of their minds as they fought viciously for the smoking device. After all, they had to settle a more important issue at the moment: dibs on the pipeweed.