Pippin and His Big Mouth
By Talking Hawk
"This looks mighty bad," Sam said, cringing at my foot. "Really? I don't feel anything," I lied. Boromir came in to look over his shoulder. "Ooowee," he remarked. Some doctor he is.
"I'm really sorry about this," Boromir said. "I didn't mean to step on your foot during sparring practice. Are you sure you're all right?" he insisted. I did feel a little sorry for Boromir – the big clumsy lout can't help it if he steps on a couple little hobbits on accident.
I finally gulped down my fright and took a look at the damage. My big toe was twice the size it initially had been, a dark shade of red, with my nail cutting into it a bit. "Stupid ingrown nails," a muttered. Boromir looked at Sam for an explanation.
"You see," Sam said in a quite scientific manner, "the males of the Brandybuck family suffer from a genetic 'disorder,' if you will, called ingrown toenails. This is where the nails cuts into their-"
Boromir held up his hand and said, "That's quite enough." He turned back to me, "Are you going to be okay?"
"Oh, yes, yes," I insisted. Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow. "Sam, fetch me a twig." Sam raised his eyebrow, but cooperated. A few moments later he came back with a twig in hand. I nodded my head in thanks, and took the twig from him. I put the twig beneath the edge of my toenail. The spectators' faces twisted in horror. Legolas turned away, pretending to be on the look out or something.
"You see," I narrated, "when the nail goes down too deep, I just lift up the edge like so…" I did so, then fell back, howling in pain. Boromir and Sam rushed to my side and sat me back up. Sam pulled the twig from my toe instinctively. I sighed in pain, and he said, "Um…I suggest we wait a few days for the swelling to go down…yeah…"
Gimli and Pippin sat on nearby rocks, watching. "I can't believe he didn't even cried," Gimli said. He and Pippin then looked at each other. "Well," Gimli said, embarrassed, "it's not like I cry…ever…but still." Pippin nodded. "Well, I know Merry's cried before."
My eyes went wide. What was he trying to do? Ruin my reputation? …Do I even HAVE a reputation? Well, if I do have one, I must protect it! "That's not true," I stated authoritatively. Pippin raised an eyebrow at me. "Of course you did! Remember!" I glared at him.
"Gather around!" Aragorn called. "It's story time!" Why does he hate me? Maybe because of that whole soup incident…
The Fellowship, except for Gandalf, sat cross-legged on the ground before Pippin like little kindergartners. Gandalf was, of course, the teacher, and Pippin was their visiting storyteller before naptime.
"Well, it all began when I was six-years-old…"
* * *
"I'm going out, Mum!" Merry cried out as he picked up an apple out of the fruit bowl, and walked out of his hobbit hole. He didn't take a bite of the apple, but only stuck it in his pocket as he strode down the road.
After awhile, he came to a grassy clearing with a few trees outlining it. As Merry passed by the first tree, a small voice said, "Mournin', Merry." Merry spun around, and found Pippin sitting beneath the tree in the shadow. "Hey," the older cousin greeted as he sat down next to him. "Want an apple?" "Yes!" Pippin said as the shiny red apple appeared before him. He squealed with delight as the grinning Merry handed it to him.
Pippin took a big bite of it, making Merry grin even more. "So, what are you doing?" he inquired. "Oh," Pippin said, frowning. He pointed at three figures in the middle of the clearing. "They won't let me play with them." His three older siblings were playing something similar to American football, seemingly oblivious to their brother's pain.
"Well," Merry said, trying to sound reassuring, "I'm sure they'll let you play once you get big and tough." He poked Pippin's chubby tummy, which made the latter giggle. Pippin then frowned again. "That's what they say…but I don't think they're telling the truth." Merry smiled sadly and said, "Well…take care of yourself, okay, Pippin?" Pippin nodded, and Merry ran off toward the other Took children.
After a moment of talking, Merry was put on a team, and they played ball together. Pippin sighed sadly. It was true that Merry was nicer to him than his siblings, but no matter what, the age difference was always a barrier. "Why do I have to be the youngest?" Pippin asked himself. "Why couldn't Pimpernel or Pervinca have been the youngest instead of me?" He furrowed his brow, and took a large bite of the apple, his mind filled with such thoughts. He breathed in before he swallowed, but it was only a wheeze.
Pippin put down the apple, his eyes bulging. He put his hand to his throat. A great lump was there, and it wasn't an Adam's apple. 'What do I do? What do I do?' Pippin thought to himself. He couldn't talk; he couldn't breathe.
* * *
Even though Merry was having a good time, he was beginning to feel a bit guilty about abandoning Pippin. He sighed, and then looked over at his younger cousin. He was lying down. Merry smiled, thinking he was taking a nap.
Merry was beginning to feel a bit hot in his coat, and thought that Pippin may be feeling a bit chilly in the shade, so he called a time-out. He took off his coat, and ran up the hill to Pippin. Merry walked up to Pippin's side, his coat in his arms. Then he saw Pippin's wide, frightened eyes. Merry dropped his coat on the ground in fright. Pippin's face was turning blue.
"Help, help!" Merry cried out to Pippin's siblings. "I think he's dying!" Merry put a consoling hand on Pippin's, trying to keep both of them calm. He didn't know what was wrong.
The three other hobbits ran up to them. Pearl was the first to get there. "What's wrong?" Pippin touched his throat with his free hand. Pearl's eyes widened in understanding, and forced Pippin to stand up. Pearl put his arms around Pippin's stomach and pulled in. Pippin's eyes drooped drowsily.
Merry began crying. "He's going to die, he's going to die," he whimpered to himself. "It's all my fault," he said. "I shouldn't have left him all by himself. Maybe if I was here I would have been able to do something."
Pearl pulled in on Pippin's stomach. After a few tries, a "whoosh" sound filled the air as a bite of apple plopped onto the ground in front of Pippin. Merry looked at the apple. "My apple nearly killed him…"
Merry then jumped to his feet, and helped Pearl lowered Pippin to the ground. Pippin was now heaving in breaths, and looked around him in a daze. "…Am I dead?" Merry chuckled and said, "No, you're still stuck with us." "Am I GOING to die?" Pippin inquired, and Merry shook his head. "Are you sure?" Merry laughed and nodded his head. "I don't think you're going to die for quite awhile."
Merry stopped laughing, and realized there were the remnants of streams of tears down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away. "Were you crying?" Pippin asked innocently. Merry hesitated, then nodded. "Why?" "Because I was scared. It's okay to cry when you're scared," Merry said.
"I didn't mean to scare you," Pippin said as he hung his head. Merry lifted up his chin. "It's okay. You're okay, and I'm not scared anymore." Pippin wrapped his arms around Merry's torso in a kiddy hug, and Merry smiled and returned the hug.
* * *
"Awwww!" the members of the Fellowship said, and began to search desperately for a handkerchief. When none could be found, they grabbed the sleeve of the person next to them and blew. They sighed with relief after doing so, then gagged with disgust when looking at their ruined sleeve. "Looks like we're going to have to do the laundry tonight," Aragorn remarked.
"You mean, we aren't going to play Scrabble tonight?" Gimli asked, his eyebrows shooting up. Aragorn nodded, and Gimli folded his arms, grumbling to himself.
I shrugged my shoulders uncomfortably. 'I hope they don't think I'm a pansy now,' I thought to myself. After the Fellowship had dispersed to search and destroy their dirty laundry, Pippin jumped off the rock he was sitting on and took a seat next to me.
He, as if he was still six, thrust his arms around my torso and gave me a hug. My annoyed eyes softened into a smile, and I returned the hug. "I love you, Merry," he said quietly, so as not to embarrass me in front of the other "manly men." I smiled and said, "I love you, too. But don't tell anybody else, okay?"
Pippin laughed as he withdrew from the hug. "Okay." He turned away and shouted, "MERRY LOVES-" I slapped my hand over his mouth. My hand barely fit over it, it was so huge. After a moment, I removed it. "What are you doing?" I hissed.
Pippin sweetly replied, "I was just going to say, 'Merry loves doing my laundry.'" He grinned and I put my arm around his head in a headlock, and rubbed his curls with my free knuckle. He was a pain sometimes, but though I probably wouldn't admit it, Pipp's like the annoying little brother I never had.
By Talking Hawk
"This looks mighty bad," Sam said, cringing at my foot. "Really? I don't feel anything," I lied. Boromir came in to look over his shoulder. "Ooowee," he remarked. Some doctor he is.
"I'm really sorry about this," Boromir said. "I didn't mean to step on your foot during sparring practice. Are you sure you're all right?" he insisted. I did feel a little sorry for Boromir – the big clumsy lout can't help it if he steps on a couple little hobbits on accident.
I finally gulped down my fright and took a look at the damage. My big toe was twice the size it initially had been, a dark shade of red, with my nail cutting into it a bit. "Stupid ingrown nails," a muttered. Boromir looked at Sam for an explanation.
"You see," Sam said in a quite scientific manner, "the males of the Brandybuck family suffer from a genetic 'disorder,' if you will, called ingrown toenails. This is where the nails cuts into their-"
Boromir held up his hand and said, "That's quite enough." He turned back to me, "Are you going to be okay?"
"Oh, yes, yes," I insisted. Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow. "Sam, fetch me a twig." Sam raised his eyebrow, but cooperated. A few moments later he came back with a twig in hand. I nodded my head in thanks, and took the twig from him. I put the twig beneath the edge of my toenail. The spectators' faces twisted in horror. Legolas turned away, pretending to be on the look out or something.
"You see," I narrated, "when the nail goes down too deep, I just lift up the edge like so…" I did so, then fell back, howling in pain. Boromir and Sam rushed to my side and sat me back up. Sam pulled the twig from my toe instinctively. I sighed in pain, and he said, "Um…I suggest we wait a few days for the swelling to go down…yeah…"
Gimli and Pippin sat on nearby rocks, watching. "I can't believe he didn't even cried," Gimli said. He and Pippin then looked at each other. "Well," Gimli said, embarrassed, "it's not like I cry…ever…but still." Pippin nodded. "Well, I know Merry's cried before."
My eyes went wide. What was he trying to do? Ruin my reputation? …Do I even HAVE a reputation? Well, if I do have one, I must protect it! "That's not true," I stated authoritatively. Pippin raised an eyebrow at me. "Of course you did! Remember!" I glared at him.
"Gather around!" Aragorn called. "It's story time!" Why does he hate me? Maybe because of that whole soup incident…
The Fellowship, except for Gandalf, sat cross-legged on the ground before Pippin like little kindergartners. Gandalf was, of course, the teacher, and Pippin was their visiting storyteller before naptime.
"Well, it all began when I was six-years-old…"
* * *
"I'm going out, Mum!" Merry cried out as he picked up an apple out of the fruit bowl, and walked out of his hobbit hole. He didn't take a bite of the apple, but only stuck it in his pocket as he strode down the road.
After awhile, he came to a grassy clearing with a few trees outlining it. As Merry passed by the first tree, a small voice said, "Mournin', Merry." Merry spun around, and found Pippin sitting beneath the tree in the shadow. "Hey," the older cousin greeted as he sat down next to him. "Want an apple?" "Yes!" Pippin said as the shiny red apple appeared before him. He squealed with delight as the grinning Merry handed it to him.
Pippin took a big bite of it, making Merry grin even more. "So, what are you doing?" he inquired. "Oh," Pippin said, frowning. He pointed at three figures in the middle of the clearing. "They won't let me play with them." His three older siblings were playing something similar to American football, seemingly oblivious to their brother's pain.
"Well," Merry said, trying to sound reassuring, "I'm sure they'll let you play once you get big and tough." He poked Pippin's chubby tummy, which made the latter giggle. Pippin then frowned again. "That's what they say…but I don't think they're telling the truth." Merry smiled sadly and said, "Well…take care of yourself, okay, Pippin?" Pippin nodded, and Merry ran off toward the other Took children.
After a moment of talking, Merry was put on a team, and they played ball together. Pippin sighed sadly. It was true that Merry was nicer to him than his siblings, but no matter what, the age difference was always a barrier. "Why do I have to be the youngest?" Pippin asked himself. "Why couldn't Pimpernel or Pervinca have been the youngest instead of me?" He furrowed his brow, and took a large bite of the apple, his mind filled with such thoughts. He breathed in before he swallowed, but it was only a wheeze.
Pippin put down the apple, his eyes bulging. He put his hand to his throat. A great lump was there, and it wasn't an Adam's apple. 'What do I do? What do I do?' Pippin thought to himself. He couldn't talk; he couldn't breathe.
* * *
Even though Merry was having a good time, he was beginning to feel a bit guilty about abandoning Pippin. He sighed, and then looked over at his younger cousin. He was lying down. Merry smiled, thinking he was taking a nap.
Merry was beginning to feel a bit hot in his coat, and thought that Pippin may be feeling a bit chilly in the shade, so he called a time-out. He took off his coat, and ran up the hill to Pippin. Merry walked up to Pippin's side, his coat in his arms. Then he saw Pippin's wide, frightened eyes. Merry dropped his coat on the ground in fright. Pippin's face was turning blue.
"Help, help!" Merry cried out to Pippin's siblings. "I think he's dying!" Merry put a consoling hand on Pippin's, trying to keep both of them calm. He didn't know what was wrong.
The three other hobbits ran up to them. Pearl was the first to get there. "What's wrong?" Pippin touched his throat with his free hand. Pearl's eyes widened in understanding, and forced Pippin to stand up. Pearl put his arms around Pippin's stomach and pulled in. Pippin's eyes drooped drowsily.
Merry began crying. "He's going to die, he's going to die," he whimpered to himself. "It's all my fault," he said. "I shouldn't have left him all by himself. Maybe if I was here I would have been able to do something."
Pearl pulled in on Pippin's stomach. After a few tries, a "whoosh" sound filled the air as a bite of apple plopped onto the ground in front of Pippin. Merry looked at the apple. "My apple nearly killed him…"
Merry then jumped to his feet, and helped Pearl lowered Pippin to the ground. Pippin was now heaving in breaths, and looked around him in a daze. "…Am I dead?" Merry chuckled and said, "No, you're still stuck with us." "Am I GOING to die?" Pippin inquired, and Merry shook his head. "Are you sure?" Merry laughed and nodded his head. "I don't think you're going to die for quite awhile."
Merry stopped laughing, and realized there were the remnants of streams of tears down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away. "Were you crying?" Pippin asked innocently. Merry hesitated, then nodded. "Why?" "Because I was scared. It's okay to cry when you're scared," Merry said.
"I didn't mean to scare you," Pippin said as he hung his head. Merry lifted up his chin. "It's okay. You're okay, and I'm not scared anymore." Pippin wrapped his arms around Merry's torso in a kiddy hug, and Merry smiled and returned the hug.
* * *
"Awwww!" the members of the Fellowship said, and began to search desperately for a handkerchief. When none could be found, they grabbed the sleeve of the person next to them and blew. They sighed with relief after doing so, then gagged with disgust when looking at their ruined sleeve. "Looks like we're going to have to do the laundry tonight," Aragorn remarked.
"You mean, we aren't going to play Scrabble tonight?" Gimli asked, his eyebrows shooting up. Aragorn nodded, and Gimli folded his arms, grumbling to himself.
I shrugged my shoulders uncomfortably. 'I hope they don't think I'm a pansy now,' I thought to myself. After the Fellowship had dispersed to search and destroy their dirty laundry, Pippin jumped off the rock he was sitting on and took a seat next to me.
He, as if he was still six, thrust his arms around my torso and gave me a hug. My annoyed eyes softened into a smile, and I returned the hug. "I love you, Merry," he said quietly, so as not to embarrass me in front of the other "manly men." I smiled and said, "I love you, too. But don't tell anybody else, okay?"
Pippin laughed as he withdrew from the hug. "Okay." He turned away and shouted, "MERRY LOVES-" I slapped my hand over his mouth. My hand barely fit over it, it was so huge. After a moment, I removed it. "What are you doing?" I hissed.
Pippin sweetly replied, "I was just going to say, 'Merry loves doing my laundry.'" He grinned and I put my arm around his head in a headlock, and rubbed his curls with my free knuckle. He was a pain sometimes, but though I probably wouldn't admit it, Pipp's like the annoying little brother I never had.