In this story I have done a lot of shameless borrowing from other sources. Which I guess is okay, because that's kind of the essence of what fanfiction is. All of these little borrowings will be referenced at the end of the chapters they appear in. (Obviously, references to J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, and Peter Jackson's movie trilogy based on this book, will appear very, very often throughout.) Thank you so much for checking out my weird little story, and Happy Reading!
Chapter One: A Reunion, and the Beginning of Much Mischief
In August of the Great Year of Plenty (T. A. 3020, or 1420, if you prefer Shire Reckoning), the eight surviving members of the Fellowship decided that they rather missed each other after, for some of them, over a year of separation. So they decided to have a reunion at Isengard, as it was roughly equidistant from the homes of each, and as Aragorn was going there anyway to set things in order in the tower of Orthanc. Treebeard and the other Ents had done wonderful things with the grounds at Isengard, till they far surpassed even the loveliness of their earlier days when the wizard who had lived there cared about more than just the acquisition of power.
It was a happy reunion indeed. They spent their days traipsing about the gardens and orchards, and in the evenings they all gathered together, sometimes in Aragorn's pavilion and sometimes around a peacefully crackling fire under the stars of Elbereth. For hours they told jokes and stories, sang songs, and talked about their memories and plans for the future.
But where there are Tooks, there is bound to be mischief. At first it was the seemingly harmless suggestion of playing a game. Walking around the pretty trees was all good and well, but Pippin was beginning to get ever so slightly bored. But more than anything, he was curiouser than a monkey named George.* What other kinds of interesting non-palantír doo-dads had Saruman kept up in that tall, dark, and mysterious tower?
One evening after supper, Pippin said, "Say, I'm dying for a nice rollicking game of hide-and-seek. Any takers?"
Aragorn looked at him as if mock-questioning his sanity. "Hide-and-seek, Master Took? All of us here are grown Men (and grown Hobbits), and we—" here Gimli cleared his throat indignantly—"and grown Dwarves, and I, in case anyone needs to be reminded, am the King of Gondor. Hide-and-seek is child's play. Real Men (and Dwarves, and Hobbits) play Sardines."
"Sardines?" questioned Frodo. "I have never heard of that game before."
"Sardines," said Legolas. "Named after a type of fish oft eaten from a metal can, and closely packed inside. It's called this because it is a sort of reverse hide-and-seek, involving one individual hiding and all the others seeking. When the hider is found by a seeker, the seeker hides with them, and as more and more seekers find the hider, the hiding place becomes more and more cramped, like sardines in a can," he finished.
"He's like a walking encyclopedia," Merry whispered to Sam.
"Well," said Gandalf as he puffed on his pipe, "I'm certainly up for giving this 'Sardines' game a try. Who shall hide first?"
"I will!" Pippin piped up before anyone else could.
They agreed to give him a good, generous amount of time to find a hiding spot, as the grounds of Isengard were extensive. He set off in the opposite direction from Orthanc, intending to put some distance between himself and the others and then circle back to the tower unseen.
It was a lovely evening. Despite his burning curiosity, Pippin couldn't help but slow down and enjoy its beauty. The air was only slightly chilly and had that sweet, subtle, indescribable fragrance of night. He could hear a loud chorus of frogs and crickets all around him, and the fireflies, little points of light dotting the blackness, twirled around as if putting on a show just for him. He could see the faint silhouettes of trees looming in the darkness, but he was familiar with them from the daytime, and they did not seem threatening, but rather like old friends. He looked up at the full moon, that silver vessel of Tilion gliding through the sky. He wondered what it must be like, the unending solitary journey among the stars. The sights were probably incredible, but he wondered if Tilion ever felt lonely. Pippin knew he would with such a life, but maybe the Maiar were different. He'd have to ask Gandalf….
When Pippin reached the bottom of the steps leading to the front entrance of Orthanc he looked steeply upwards and caught his breath. The lofty black tower had always looked imposing, but it was different standing right by its entrance at night. He couldn't see the top. A little quiver of instinctive fear squirmed in his stomach, but he told himself it was just excitement and began climbing the many tall steps up to the door. He'd have to hurry, or they'd find him before he had a chance to get inside, explore, and then find a good place to hide.
Pippin had had a lot of experience with walking long distances in the last few years and had grown strong and fit (as well as tall, but that was not owing to the exercise), but he was still winded by the time he reached the top. It was then that he realized he had neglected one key factor in his little plan: the door. Of course it was locked. Now what? After taking a minute to think, he stepped back and threw out his arms impressively (or tried to). "MELLON!" he bellowed.
The door was still as locked as ever. But Pippin was not going to give up so easily. He surveyed his surroundings as well as he could in the dark. He seemed to be on a flat platform flanked by very short walls on either side that acted as railings. He looked up again. Wait a second. Did he see something…shiny? He squinted over to the right at something a few feet above his head. Something that looked rather like a window.
A few failed tries and bruised body parts later, Pippin was standing on the top of the little wall and reaching for the windowsill. Luckily for him it was very broad, broad enough for him to pull himself up on top of it and kneel there while he pushed the window open. It swung freely on its hinges, with barely even a creak. It had almost been too easy, thought Pippin, as he slid inside.
* a quick reference to Margret and H.A. Rey's Curious George books
Chapter Two will be posted on January 26th :)