Title: Conversations, Cherries and Certain Disagreements
Characters: The Fellowship
Timeline: Pre-Caradhras
Summary: In which droll conversations arise, nature calls, Pippin discovers a tree of berries and Boromir has a disagreement with an unlikely foe. Fluff!
A/N: Just an idea :) I've always thought of Pippin and Merry as Rosencrantz and Guildenstern- anyone agree?
Disclaimer: Middle-earth and all in it belong to Tolkein.
Conversations, Cherries and Certain Disagreements
"I think the Elves are the best fighters." Pippin spoke suddenly, breaking the Fellowship's silence as they walked atop the hills of stone and grass, and eliciting a warm smile from Legolas.
"What makes you say that?" Merry, trudging alongside his cousin, asked curiously.
"Well, I'd imagine the pointy arrows would be a part of it."
"I guess, but- beggin' your pardon, Legolas- It's the Men with the big swords." Merry replied matter-of-factly, this time drawing a hearty grin from Boromir and a chuckle from Aragorn.
"Aye, but that must get tiring, lugging those heavy things around."
"They're not as heavy as axes." Merry informed him, "I tried to cut some wood with Gimli's axe the other day- almost pulled my arm out!"
"Not to mention the chainmail. Don't you ever get hot, Gimli?"
"Though, we do have Gandalf, as well." Merry murmured thoughtfully, before the Dwarf had a chance to answer.
"When he's not grumbling…" Pippin giggled, before realising his error, "Meaning no disrespect, Gandalf!
"It's always good to have a wide range of variety in a company" The older Hobbit decided.
"Certainly!"
"Undoubtedly!"
"Wait, what about us?"
"Hobbits aren't much of a fighting race."
"Well, what about Griffo Boffin, eh?" Pippin reminded him.
"Mad as a hatter that Hobbit is."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, half of what he says you can't understand-" Merry began.
"-That'll be the lack of teeth-"
"-And the other half makes no sense at all!"
"He's married to a Baggins." Pippin added, eyes trailing to Frodo's back.
"Aye, Daisy."
"Frodo's cousin!" Frodo glanced shortly over his shoulder with a smile at the sound of his voice.
"The girl was always one to fall for the tough'uns." He told the two younger Hobbits with a chuckle before turning back.
"He broke Andwise's nose once, didn't he?" Pippin enquired, reaching into his pack as he turned again to Merry.
"Oh, aye the roper."
"Sam's idol, I reckon." Laughed Pippin, ignoring Sam's indignant 'hey!' as he took out his water skin and took a long sip.
"Don't have too much water, Pip." Merry warned him, "You know what your bladder's like."
"Hollow?"
"No, Pip, I mean to say you'll only need to go in a minute." Merry sighed with a roll of his eyes, before elaborating a little more, "And I mean go go."
"No, I won't." Pippin denied defiantly, absently tucking the drink back away.
"Yes, you will. Remember that time you drank a mug of water just before we stole that sack of 'taters from Farmer Cotton, and then we had to drop the whole sack and leg it because they weighed us down and you needed to go-"
"Merry!" Pippin cut in, looking around wildly as if making sure none had heard- unlucky for him Frodo had indeed still been listening, and now shot him an almost despairing look, "You weren't to talk of that again!"
"Well, it's true." Merry replied, ignoring Pippin's angry glare, "I'm only thinking of you, Pip… and your bladder 'course."
With a huff of pure annoyance, Pippin childishly stomped his foot and stopped, fists clenched as he waited for most of the fellowship to pass. He made sure that Merry was well in front before stepping back in line, by chance coming side to side with Boromir, who walked as rearguard. With the air of one close to the Man, something as true as the curls on his feet, Pippin slipped his hand into Boromir's and walked in his company.
"What is the matter, Pippin?" Boromir enquired as looked down at the Hobbit, an eyebrow cocked.
"Merry says I have a weak bladder." Pippin huffed in reply, scowling darkly at said Hobbit's back. Boromir simply laughed deeply, mirth in his eye as he squeezed Pippin's hand with his and affectionately ruffled his hair with the other.
"Worry not, Pippin, my brother was much the same when he was young." Boromir chuckled, and joy was evident in his voice as the Hobbit recognised the introduction to a new tale of Faramir, "I remember one morning he forced me to take him to the Anduin- well, I say force but Faramir has always had a rather persuasive way of speaking, even my mother was no match for his words…"
"I must add that even I was hard-pressed to refuse him!" Gandalf called with a chuckle from the front, having heard snatches of their conversation.
"Aye." Boromir grinned, as if happy that he was not the only to relent to his younger brother, before continuing his story, "I had taken him upon my horse, without the permission of my father, all the way through the Fields of Pelennor down to the shores of the Anduin, only for the rascal to claim the urge to empty his bladder and demand to be taken all the way back to Minas Tirith; he refused to go with nature despite its call!"
Even the stern Aragorn cracked a smile at the conclusion, with Gimli wiping tears of laughter from his eyes and Pippin feeling a little more at ease with the thought of water in his stomach.
Or so he thought.
Tap tap. Tap tap. Tap tap.
Funny, how the soft patter of Hobbit feet against stone slab resembled the dripping of water.
Tap tap. Tap tap. Tap tap.
Funny indeed.
Now, normally Hobbits were silent creatures- perhaps not when drunk with ale, and perhaps not when on a tiresome journey with little good nights' rest- but in the Shire, a Hobbit could make his way about the place with little but a whisper of sound. Now, however, the 'tap's were evident.
In fact, they were perfectly loud and clear for Pippin. Oh, joy.
Swallowing his pride with much difficulty and straightening his back a little, Pippin tugged on Boromir's hand until the Man bent to his level with a curious look.
"I need to go… And I mean go go, if you catch my meaning." He whispered into the Gondorian's ear, watching as the Man slowly straightened with a small smirk, both eyebrows raised.
"Gandalf." Boromir called, smothering his amusement, and with little success Pippin noticed with distain, "I wonder if we may stop a moment."
"For what reason?" The wizard answered, no sway in his pace.
"I'm afraid the talk of bladders and rivers was not ideal." Boromir's smirk now seeped into voice, and Pippin's eyebrows knotted together into a frown as he waited for Gandalf's reply. The Wizard stopped, turning around to face the two at the back.
"Can it not wait?" He asked wearily.
"My apologies," Boromir said solemnly now, "But one cannot help if nature calls!"
Gandalf rolled his eyes but nodded his consent, and in a flash the other three Hobbits had found a rock to settle on as Aragorn- aware of the broader Man's intentions- shot Boromir an approving look. Boromir acknowledged it with a nod then turned and began to amble away from the group, calling Pippin after him.
"We will not wander far." Boromir told the others over his shoulder as the Hobbit again took his hand and the two disappeared into the shrubbery.
True to his word, Boromir didn't lead Pippin far from the awaiting fellowship, and it wasn't long before the Man gestured him towards a scattering of bushes and plopped down on a rock, his back to them.
"Make haste, Pippin. For all his wisdom, Gandalf can be impatient." Boromir said distractedly, propping an elbow on his knee, and his chin on his hand as the other rested casually on the hilt of his sword. Does he ever relax? Thought Pippin to himself as he passed through the bent branches of a low tree, and ducked behind a bush.
Mindful of Boromir's words and knowing of Gandalf's impatience, especially concerning him, Pippin answered nature's call quickly before using leaves to wipe his hands clean. It was as he reached to pluck another leaf from a tree that he noticed them: berries, coupled and a delicious red tucked amongst the leaves and branches of the tree. A beaming grin lit Pippin's face as he immediately reached up and picked a pair, popping them into his mouth. Delicious juice burst in his mouth and he sighed in content. These very berries adorned many trees back home in Tookland; they were certainly safe.
Hastily, he picked as many he could hold in his small hands and trudged back out to Boromir, who still sat back turned, humming to himself; and decidedly off-tune.
"What have you there, Pippin?" Boromir enquired curiously when the Hobbit reached his side, grey eyes examining the berries.
"Why, these are berries!"
"Yes, I can see that, Little One. Are they safe?"
"They are cherries, Boromir!" Pippin exclaimed with a red grin, joyous of his glorious find, "As safe as a berry can get!"
"Cherries… ah, yes, they are grown also in Gondor." Boromir nodded slowly, "Though I cannot say that I have ever tasted them before."
"Would you like to try your first?" Pippin asked as they picked their way back to the company, already eating through his seventh and offering Boromir one. He had considered saving Merry a pair, but his pride was still stinging from earlier and he decided that depriving the pragmatic Brandybuck of his favourite fruit would be a most worthy punishment.
Boromir gingerly took the cherry by its stalk from Pippin's hand, holding it in front of his face and inspecting it a little closer before deeming it harmless and taking it a small bite.
"It is good." He smiled with a shrug, popping the rest into his mouth and cleaning his fingers on a small cloth from a –somewhat hidden- pocket. Pippin smiled with him, stuffing the rest of the cherries into his mouth and hurriedly wiping his hands on his thighs as they reached the awaiting fellowship. They had barely gotten into line when Gandalf set off again, leading the company on as Pippin again took his position beside Merry, both of them in front of Boromir.
"What's that on your fingers?" Merry asked as they moved along, pointing to Pippin's red-stained digits.
"I found cherries." Pippin replied proudly, lifting his chin and straightening his back as he did so. Merry frowned.
"And you didn't save any for me?" His older cousin seemed more annoyed than hurt, unintentionally showing Pippin that his punishment was indeed acceptable yet brutal- brutal to the likes of a Hobbit, anyhow.
"Well, you shouldn't have teased me, then." Pippin retaliated.
"I wasn't teasing you, Pip." Merry rebuffed, "I was just stating. The. Facts."
Of course, this only led to another argument that drew on, growing quiet when Gandalf's patience began to wear thin, yet sustaining for long enough that Pippin eventually forgot the cherries and, indeed, the very reason for which they were even arguing. The afternoon drew on, the Hobbits' banter lapsing into day dreaming- to Gandalf's relief and chagrin when Pippin stumbled more than once due to inattentiveness- and none seemed to notice the Gondorian's silence. After all, more often than not, Boromir would spend the day in his own thoughts, and so it surprised everyone when- finally- he spoke after a long while.
"Gandalf, may we stop a moment?" Boromir asked, and in his voice there was a certain tiresome weariness Pippin had never heard before from him. Is he… out of breath? The young Hobbit wondered.
Gandalf halted, dramatically raising his arms and turning his face to the sky with a loud sigh before waving his hand with a flourish, bidding Boromir to do what he wished to, and quickly. The fellowship, discrete from the Wizard's eyes, adopted slouches, relieved for the short respite as they watched the Gondorian. Boromir ignored their prying gazes, taking off his shield and leaning it carefully against a rock, unclasping his horn and settling it gingerly on another, smoother boulder before strolling away.
It may have been Pippin's imagination, or the tricks of the dimming light of dusk, but it seemed to him that Boromir was pale, and that as he ambled away stumbled slightly on a loose rock, before recovering quickly and disappearing behind a large boulder. Pippin turned to see if anyone else spotted it, but found that almost everyone had already turned their attentions to their travel weary shoes or feet- everyone bar Legolas, whose keen eyes met Pippin with curiosity that matched the Hobbit's own.
Much to the company's surprise, the sound of powerfully loud retching soon followed Boromir's leave, and Gandalf sighed again, his expression matching the others' as Aragorn closed his eyes for a moment, his chin dropping down to his chest before he made to follow after Boromir and check on him. Gimli, who stopped him with a restraining hand on his arm, halted his path.
"Best leave him to it, lad." The Dwarf told Aragorn quietly, though he flinched as another retch sounded.
Not long after, with Boromir deemed well by Aragorn and the fellowship again proceeding, Pippin decided to voice a thought to his cousin.
"Merry," He whispered, "I don't think that cherries quite agree with Boromir."