Disclaimer: I own nothing that is from Tolkien's wonderful world. I don't own any members of the Fellowship or anything like that.
I do however own Pippin the 2nd. She is my own creation, as well as any of her friends other than the Gamgee's.
Author's note: REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW
To Walk in Woods Unknown
Chapter 1
"In western lands beneath the sun
The flowers may rise in spring.
The trees may bud, the waters run,
The merry finches sing
Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night
And swaying beeches bear
The Elven-Stars as jewels white
Amid their branching hair.
Though here at journey's end I lie
In darkness buried deep,
Beyond all towers strong and high
Beyond all mountains steep.
And above all shadow rides the sun
And stars forever dwell;
I will not say the day is done,
Nor bid the stars farewell. *
(*Poem/song written by J.R.R Tolkien, Lord of the Rings: Return of the King)
The sunlight danced across the rolling fields of the Shire and the mid-summer breeze waltzed in the meadows. Birds twittered and hopped from branch to branch in an old oak tree, and water in a nearby brook could be heard trickling by. And if one listened hard enough, you could even hear the sounds of various small critters scurrying about.
Among a patch of wild flowers, the wind, sun and sounds of the fields converged around a little form that was sitting there…swirling around and accentuating the words of the song she sang.
This small, golden-haired girl was a Hobbit. Yes, a Hobbit, like those spoken about in that mythic tale of the One Ring. Such a little people they are, but with big hearts. Though they are only half the size of the 'Big People' as they call us, they alone were capable to bearing that terrible Ring of Power to its destruction. But no, they are not magical, as some thought after that quest was ended. However, they can sometimes seem to disappear when they need to. But this is a learned ability that they practice. And practice it so well they have, that in fact, not even a wood elf could track a Hobbit who does not want to be found.
Now this Hobbit, appearing to be only a child though she was actually only a couple years away from her 'coming of age' at thirty-three, was not what you would call a normal Hobbit, as the local people were so keen of reminding her. See, most Hobbits are quite content to live a quiet life. Drink; smoke; tend their fields. This is what normal, respectable Hobbits liked to do. But Miss Peregrin Took the 2nd, Daughter of Thain Peregrin Took the 1st, was quite different. Even now, she sang a song that had adventure for a heart.
It was a song favored by her best friend Daisy Gamgee. Her father, Samwise (Sam) Gamgee, had first woven the tune when he had begun to despair in the dark land of Mordor years ago. So as one could tell, Miss Gamgee had grown up hearing tales of lands far away and of the diversity of the peoples of Middle-Earth. It was no mystery why she and Peregrin were such good friends, both enjoyed hearing about such things as adventure and of elves and men. And such tales were best enjoyed in like company, so naturally, any stories Daisy heard, she tended to share with Peregrin.
Not that things were any different from the other way around. Peregrin's father, now the Thain, had been one of the other companions who, along with Master Samwise and six others, had set out with Mr. Frodo Baggins of Bag End those many years before on the afore mentioned Quest. But, anyways, that is an old tale, heard many times by the young Hobbit lads and lasses around the Shire at bedtimes.
Now, Peregrin – known by everyone as Pippin, like her father – frequently found herself wandering over the fields of Tucksburough, Buckland, Hobbiton, and various other areas of the Shire in search of something new to experience. She had explored nearly ever corner of the four farthings that a Hobbit could. She had even learned to swim, a very rare thing among her people.
Yes…many up in Hobbiton thought her very odd indeed. "She doesn't seem to have the sense to know what is right for herself. You would think that at least her mother would have taught her to know an apple from a patch of poison ivy" as the Bracegirdles of Hardbottle were always saying.
But despite all this, her heart wanted more. She wanted to see these places her father and elders sang about, to touch the monuments they dwelt in, to hear the elves sing…
Master Samwise, having earned an acclaimed reputation as a storyteller due to inheriting the Red Book from the Bagginses, told stories that painted the most colorful places in ones mind. But as it was, Pippin felt she had only grays on her pallet. As if a crucial part of her was dying inside, or as if a part of her just hadn't gotten the chance to live yet.
How she longed to explore outside the Shire. It was this desire that showed with complete certainty the exact reason why her mother had been right to name her after her father; a point that people were quick to notice and question about. And though Miss Took was the same age her father had been when he first began his adventure, the Thain forbade her to leave the Shire. No matter how much she argued and pleaded, Master Peregrin Took was not ready to let his daughter go; much to her frustration.
Lying down amid the flowers, she stared bleakly up at the sky which was beginning to fade into the onset of night. "Maybe this is where I'm meant to be," she said to herself. "Maybe I'm meant to die here of brain-numbing boredom."
She rolled her eyes. "Well, they say that a queerness of this sort resides in a Took's core, maybe it's just my bloodline working against me."
She sighed and closed her eyes, remembering the stories her father had told her when she was little. You would think of all people, he would understand how she felt. After filling her head with stories for that last thirty-sum-odd years, how could he expect her to not be this way? But he did not, could not, or would not understand her plight, and Pippin could think of nothing more that could possibly convince him to let her explore outside the Shire.
"Minas Tirith…Mirkwood…Edoras…and Rivendell, I can't forget Rivendell," she muttered, recalling the places she'd heard about in her stories. "Rivendell…the house of Elrond, and the last friendly home west of the Misty Mountains. After all this time, it's probably only a shadow of it's former self. For sure Lothlorien is now dead, but to glimpse its remnants would be a long answered dream, for the land never forgets if the elves dwelt near. The Towers…the trees… and in Elrond's house, the Hall of Fire…" she smiled, remembering the description: 'Whether you desire music or rest or time for thought, you could usually find all there…'
Then her thoughts jolted to a stop. Elrond…of course…how stupid of me, she thought. Yes he's been gone for years now, but that doesn't matter. "I've been so stupid! Why didn't I think of this before?" she chastised herself. "Did he or did he not oppose Lord Elrond about being placed into the Fellowship?" While her thoughts were racing, her resolve at what she could do to solve her predicament was strengthening. It would be difficult and probably dangerous…but she wanted to leave. She wanted to explore. But if she did what she was thinking…then she would be leaving with no support…no help of any kind from her parents or her brother.
She stood up, took one glance at the setting sun and at the fields around her, and, willing the small ebb of fear that had trickled into her soul to dissipate back to strong determination, she set off for home.