Birthday Cake and Old Bears
A/N: Wow, it's been an awful long time since I wrote anything for the LOTR fandom. I've been missing my hobbits terribly however, so I have this teeny little offering.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the following characters/places etc.
***
"Frodo?"
"If you want the rest of those cakes, Peregrin, you may go and fetch them yourself."
"I wasn't going to ask you that, cousin."
Frodo rocks his head to the side and arches an eyebrow, and Pippin's solemn expression lapses back into an easy smile.
"Oh alright, so perhaps I was. You were enjoying them just as much as I was."
"And rightly so. Sam outdid himself. Besides, it's my birthday; be kind to an old hobbit and try doting upon me for a change."
Pippin laughs, prodding at his side with a sharp elbow.
"It was your birthday yesterday. And you are not so old, Frodo, that you need us to dote upon you. Not yet, in any case. I don't know why Sam bothers with you. But I'll bet he'd be happy to fetch them for us."
"Perhaps you should ask him. I'll wait here."
Pippin rolls his eyes expressively, before squirming closer and letting his head fall upon Frodo's shoulder. He lifts a lazy hand, pointing at the cluster of stars, twinkling in and out above their heads.
"That one, right there; Do you think it looks like a sheep?"
"A sheep," echoes Frodo, sceptically.
"Yes. Don't you remember that big nasty old fellow that Merry had to tend to when I was younger? It frightened me; it was so big and lumbering and ill tempered. Once it chased me halfway across the paddock, and Merry had to race in and rescue me. Those stars there, they look just like him."
"The ram."
"Yes, that."
"I suppose so."
"And this one, to the left." Pippin giggles, flashing him a quick grin. "That looks like Merry's old bear. He still has it, you know. I found it last month while I was visiting. He pretended he hadn't known it was there."
"Now, Pippin, I know for a fact that you still have quite a lot of your old toys," says Frodo, smiling despite himself. He remembers Merry's bear; remembers the poor thing being dragged through the mud, covered in jam and milk, being washed and strung up by a floppy ear to dry. Pippin sighs.
"Yes, Frodo, but I'm a good deal younger than Merry, aren't I? It's quite alright for me to keep them around."
"Oh, I see. I take it you will be disregarding all of your old things when you reach your cousin's age, then?"
Pippin looks momentarily stricken.
"Well, I'm not so sure about that," he says after a moment, thoughtful. "It would hardly be fair; Merry having kept his around for such a long time, after all. My old things would be most put out."
"I'm sure they would," Frodo agrees, smiling quickly at the inky sky while Pippin is staring at his hands. "Perhaps Merry can be talked into holding on to his bear a while longer. And did you know, there are a few of my old belongings in a cupboard in my study."
"Truly?"
"Oh yes. It felt silly to part with the things when I had the space for them, and they come with such wonderful memories. So there; you'll not hear any objections from me if you grow to be a wrinkly, grumpy old Thain and still have your childhood bear stuck under your pillow."
"I'll never be a wrinkly, grumpy old Thain," Pippin says absently, frowning. "Where would be the fun in that? Wrinkly, maybe. But not for many many years. There's not so many until you become wrinkly."
"Thank you, Pippin."
"You really won't tell Merry?"
"He'll hear nothing about it from me," Frodo assures, nodding. Pippin beams, burrowing back down into his side and relaxing.
"You are a good cousin, Frodo."
"I am so glad to hear it."
"Even if you are getting to be a bit rounded and doddery in your old age."
"I can take those birthday gifts back, Peregrin, and I can instruct Sam to keep you away from those sweet cakes."
"You would never."
Frodo considers arguing the point, but realises quite quickly that it would be rather pointless. He's entirely sure that Pippin could flash him sad doe eyes and a pout, and Frodo would happily give him the run of the pantry. Or anything else his heart desired, and his young cousin is well aware of that fact.
Pippin, possibly guessing his dilemma, giggles into his shoulder and tangles a hand in his shirtsleeve.
"But I'll behave; you're right, it is your… Well, it's close enough to your birthday. I'll even let you have the bigger share of them when we go back inside. Aren't you glad you keep me around?"
Frodo rolls his eyes, but leans down quickly to press a fond kiss into the rather tangled mess of bronze curls.
"Always, you rascal."