Mischievous Exterior
By Talking Hawk
Pippin couldn't believe it. They were leaving. To the young hobbit's utter bewilderment, Bilbo, Frodo, and Gandalf were leaving. He sat before the campfire, staring at its dancing flames as half the group was lying in their blankets asleep. With him were the trio, his cousin Merry, and his friend Sam. Merry and Bilbo had conked out almost immediately after supper, and Sam and Frodo were sitting away from the site, engrossed in some conversation, realizing that their time together would soon draw to a close.
The Took sighed as he returned his hazel eyes to the crackling blaze. His mind was too pressed with a worry to bother with adding Frodo and Sam's questionable emotional stability to that. As he sat quietly on the cold stone beneath his rear, the aged wizard suddenly appeared. Perhaps the white-robed man had taken a stroll down the beach, pondering over the fact that the next day's journey would forever separate himself from his metaphorical home in Middle Earth.
"Peregrin," he said, raising his bushy eyebrows at the hobbit, and Pippin blinked his eyes as if snapping out of a daze. "Oh, hullo," he said awkwardly, then lowered his eyes back to the fire. The corner of Gandalf's lips twisted downward in a sort of frown, and he laid down his staff and sat on a two-foot tall rock next to the Took. "I would have thought that you have retired for the night by now," the wizard said, but Pippin didn't lift his eyes to meet the other's.
Gandalf the White frowned again, and scrutinized his conversation companion. "What is it that is weighing upon your mind?" he asked in a concerned tone. Pippin sighed again – very un-Pippin like, Gandalf noted. "Oh, I don't know…" he mumbled, his voice trailing off as if his words were leaving a rope upon the ground in the midst of the fog, tempting whoever is there to follow it. "Tell me," the wizard urged gently, and Pippin paused.
The hobbit lifted a pair of sad, thoughtful eyes at the wizard; Gandalf couldn't help but be startled to see such depth and despair in those hazel eyes that one would assume that would only be filled with mischief and unintentional stupidity. The man quickly regained his composure as Pippin began speaking. "I was just thinking…" He averted his eyes back to the fire's roaring flames and continued, "…about old times." "And?" the wizard pressed, worry growing in his tone. What could make the cheerful hobbit this sad?
"And you." The wizard lifted a bushy eyebrow, not quite sure where this vague dialogue would be leading. Pushing back any rash conclusions that arose in his mind, he waited patiently for Pippin to say more. The young hobbit looked up at the old man with those sad eyes and said, "I know I mess up…a lot. But why do you hate me?"
Gandalf nearly fell off his rock, quite taken aback by this response. Once he restabilized his seat on the stone, he said, "Hate you? Why on earth would you think that?" Pippin winced and his neck shrunk in between his shoulders as if expecting to be hit. The wizard calmed down, and gazed down at the hobbit gently, hoping this would coax a response out of the other.
After a long moment, Pippin said, "It seems that all the time you're getting mad at me for something… I can understand why, but there just seems to be no end to it. So, that's why I ask, why do you hate me?"
"I honestly don't, Peregrin," a sad gleam growing in the wizard's eyes, but the hobbit turned away from him. Seeing that Pippin would need some convincing, Gandalf said, "I suppose I have some explaining to do for you to believe me…"
* * *
It was a beautiful spring morning in the year 1393. The Shire was in full bloom – wildflowers along the side of the road had bumblebees flying about them busily, the bluebirds in the trees were feeding their chirping chicks, and the grass was a deep shade of green after the long winter. The old wizard sat tranquilly on top of his wagon, absorbing the beauty of the countryside. His brown horse trotted along daintily, enjoying the exercise after having been cooped up all winter.
After a time, Gandalf finally arrived in Hobbiton. The hobbit folk waved merrily at him, pleased of his return to their homeland. A couple of them gave him an evil glare as he passed by them down the pebble-covered road, but it didn't bother him so much. He was accustomed to being labeled a "disturber of the peace" since the adventure to the Lonely Mountain.
Upon his wagon rolling into town, he headed straight for Bag-End, the home of his two closest friends. As he stopped his horse in front of the hobbit hole, he saw two hobbits kneeling over a small rosebush, one even down on his hands and knees. Gandalf tied his horse to a tree next to the road, giving the animal enough of a rein to enable him to bend his head down to eat the sweet grass beneath his hooves. After doing so, the old wizard approached the two hobbits.
"I don't understand," the hobbit on his hands and knees said to the other. "It was just fine a week ago." Gandalf looked over the hobbit's heads, and saw that the one speaking was holding one of the plant's green leaves in his small hand. Half of the leaf, to his surprise, was gone, with tiny bite marks marking its leaves. "Maybe it's a bug," the other suggested, scratching his brown curly-haired head. "But I don't understand," the other said, returning to a kneeling position. "I always checked it for bugs."
The wizard smiled and cried out, "Frodo, Samwise!" The two hobbits jumped, and spun around in fright to identify the voice's owner. Frodo smiled with excitement, while the Gamgee sighed in relief. The Baggins jumped into the wizard's arms and laughed happily, saying, "Gandalf! We were never thinking you ever were going to come back!" The wizard grinned as the thirteen-year-old Sam casually stood up and brushed the wet dirt off his knees.
"We had begun to think you had found yourself a girlfriend," Sam poked good-humoredly as he approached Gandalf. The wizard smiled and ruffled the boy's curls. "I HAVE been gone for quite awhile. Long enough for you to become a tease, Samwise Gamgee." The youngest hobbit smirked, and Frodo glanced at him and chuckled. "Uncle Bilbo will be so happy to see you!" Frodo announced, practically bouncing with exhilaration. Gandalf laughed, and put a hand on the young hobbit's shoulder to calm him down.
"Now where is the old rascal?" he inquired. "The old rascal's right here," a new voice said, and the wizard lifted his aged blue eyes to it. They fell upon a chubby grinning middle-aged hobbit standing in the doorway. Bilbo and Gandalf laughed, and the former came outside and shook hands with his old friend. "It's so good to see you!" the hobbit cried out warmly, but to Gandalf's surprise, Bilbo suddenly fell over and his hand slipped from the handshake.
"Merry!" Frodo half-shouted as he helped his uncle to his feet. It was then that the wizard noticed a younger hobbit with dishwater blonde curls getting back to his feet after having crashed into Bilbo. He shook his head dizzily, and recovered a small ball that was sitting on the ground at the scene of the accident. "Whoops, sorry," he said, running a hand through his curls regrettably. Gandalf guessed that he was about eleven.
"Is this Meriadoc Brandybuck?" the wizard inquired, eying the hobbit carefully. Merry turned to the redwood of a man and nodded hesitantly, eyes blinking with confusion. "You were just a babe the last time I saw you!" Gandalf laughed. The now standing Bilbo smiled, and said, "He's a bit of a mischief, but he's all right when isn't playing ball with Pippin." The oldest hobbit laughed, and patted Merry's back, who smiled.
"Who's Pip-" the man was about to ask as his robes shifted unnaturally. "Nope, no Mewwy hewe," a tiny voice observed, and the wizard looked down. A small head had just poked his head out from beneath the gray robes, and was looking about the grass carefully. "It's wike a ciwcus tent in hewe," he said just as he looked up to see Gandalf's surprised face.
"Pippin!" Bilbo shouted, scooping up the toddler into his arms, making Gandalf's robes ripple as if a breeze had come along. "What have I told you about looking under people's dresses?" the hobbit scolded as Pippin blinked innocently. "You onwy said that about giwls!" he argued, pointing at the wizard. "He's not a giwl!" Bilbo sighed with exasperation, and returned his attention to the now chuckling wizard. "I'm so sorry," he apologized, glancing back at Pippin, "he's always snooping around where he shouldn't."
"Quite all right, quite all right," Gandalf laughed, waving a hand absently. "No harm done. Now," he said, looking more closely at the boy, who now tried to hide in Bilbo's arms, a little fearful of this stranger, "whose is he?"
"Paladin and Eglantine Took's," Bilbo said, relieved that Gandalf hadn't been offended by Pippin's curiosity. "They also had another daughter while you were away." Bilbo then looked down at the toddler, then back up at the wizard. "His name is Peregrin, but we all call him Pippin for short." "Well," the wizard said with a grin, looking down at the young hobbit, "it's very nice to meet you."
To the man's slight surprise, Pippin didn't return his gaze, but was instead eying his long, white beard. In one fluid motion, the Took stuck a small hand in his pants pocket, drew out something long and shiny, then held it out in front of him. Just before Gandalf realized that the glimmering metallic piece was a pair of scissors, the young hobbit had stuck both his small hands in the handles, opened up the pair of blades widely, and hacked off half of the white beard.
For the first time in any of there lives, they saw the wizard flapping his arms violently in fury. "IT'S GONE! IT'S GONE!" he cried out, spinning about in circles in hysteria. "IT TOOK ME A HUNDRED YEARS TO MAKE IT GROW THAT LONG! AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" The man began snatching handfuls of his head hair in anger, growling in frustration.
"Um, sorry," Bilbo said, inching away from the mad wizard. "Pippin's been in a cutting fit since yesterday when he found the scissors…" Gandalf ignored him, continuing to stomp his feet, and the hobbit ushered the four boys to run off.
* * *
After about an hour of so of huffing and puffing, the wizard finally came to his senses. He was still a bit irritated, but after filling his belly with warm food for supper, he contented himself with sitting in front of the fire in a rocking chair reading a book. Frodo had returned silently a while ago, and after Gandalf acknowledged that he was just fine now, the young Baggins decided he was safe to stay.
As he flipped a page of his book, the door thumped as someone knocked on it from outside. The wizard looked up, and as Bilbo approached the door, the series of knocks were hurried and short, as opposed to long and patient. The owner of Bag End opened the door to find a nervous-looking Merry still holding his arm up, prepared to knock again. "What's wrong, my boy?" Bilbo asked, letting the young hobbit in. Frodo walked into the living room after hearing the commotion.
"It's Pippin!" the boy cried out, remaining outside on the doorstep. He gasped for the need of oxygen, and continued, "I think he's lost. He didn't even go home for supper!" Bilbo frowned, his eyebrows knitting worriedly. "Then it must be serious," he said, snatching his and Frodo's coats from the wooden pegs in the hallway. The hobbit tossed the coat to Frodo as he walked up to him, and Bilbo swiftly stuck his arms through his sleeves. "Who else is looking for him?" he asked as the three began walking out the door.
Gandalf shouted, "I will come." Bilbo stopped and poked his head back through the door. "Are you sure?" he asked, and the wizard stood up and nodded. "It is most likely my fault," he said guiltily, picking up his staff. "I will join you." The Baggins nodded somberly, and turned back to Merry.
"His parents and the Gamgees are out looking for him," the young boy told him as they continued out the door. Gandalf closed the door behind him. "His parents are still checking around town, and the Gamgees have moved into the woods. Mr. Gamgee told me to tell you that he could use more help looking around the river." The other two hobbits and the wizard nodded, and ran swiftly down the path leading to the river.
* * *
"Pip-pin! Pip-PIN!" Merry called out, walking along the river's sandy bank. Frodo and Bilbo brandished torches as they combed through the trees along the river's edge. As Gandalf searched deeper into the woods, he could hear the shouts and cries behind him from the three hobbits, and others that probably belonged to one of the Gamgees. The wizard knitted his brow, and searched carefully through the bushes.
"Oh, Peregrin," he whispered to himself as he brushed leaves before him with his staff, fearing that he might accidentally miss the hobbit if he was covered in them for warmth in the frigid night breeze. "I'm sorry I bellowed at you. It's only hair, I must admit…" He sighed sadly to himself as he heard a bird calling into the night, disappointed in himself for how he had acted that afternoon and for how he wasn't making any progress in finding the boy.
"Peregrin," he called out to the almost entirely tree-covered sky above, as if pleading to the gods, "just be safe." He looked up at the forest's canopy, hoping to receive a sliver of hope, but upon getting none, he sighed and hung his head. After a moment, he lifted his eyes, and to his amazement, saw the young hobbit's peaceful face.
The wizard's eyes widened, and ran up to the still body, lying motionlessly on a patch of clovers beneath a tree. He kneeled down next to him, holding out his thick hand hesitantly. More than once had he found men lying down like this, a deceiving peaceful look upon their face, with their skin cold to the touch in death. After sitting like this for a moment, Gandalf's shaking hand touched the boy's arm. To the wizard's profound relief, it was warm. Sighing gratefully, he scooped the sleeping form up into his arms, and stood up again.
"Thank heavens," he whispered to himself, glancing down at the boy's calm face before starting off in search of the search party.
* * *
The hobbit blinked in surprise, and said slowly, "I don't even remember that…" Gandalf smiled, and readjusted himself on his stone seat. "Well, you were still a youngster," he assured him. "It's understandable."
Pippin's eyes glimmered with tears of realization, and his lowered head looked up again at the wizard. Gandalf smiled again, and look of fondness in his eyes. He put his hand on the hobbit's shoulder and said, "I admit, Peregrin, that I thought of you as a mischief sometimes." Pippin lowered his eyes, and Gandalf continued after a slight hesitation, "But perhaps more so than any of the other hobbits, when I thought of Hobbiton, you were a piece of the puzzle I looked fondly back upon, and without you, my memory of Hobbiton wouldn't have been the same."
The hobbit's eyes lifted, a tear escaping from his glazed-over eyes. He put his small hand on the wizard's, and Gandalf said, his eyes twinkling with affection, "Thank you for that memory." Pippin nodded, and the tears all began to flow.
* * *
Early the next morning, the elvish boat arrived. Pippin, Merry, and Sam stood in a line on the beach after saying their farewells to the trio. After numerous hugs and tender words, Frodo and Bilbo stepped aboard the boat. Gandalf was about to follow when a hand snatched his wrist. He looked down, and saw Pippin standing in the ankle-deep water, a look of sadness in his eyes.
"I'm sorry," the young hobbit said, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry for not knowing." Gandalf smiled sadly, and put his hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "Don't be," the wizard said, squeezing the shoulder beneath his hand comfortingly. "You now know. I'm just happy that you now know." Gandalf fell to his knees, and the two hugged.
After a moment, the wizard returned to his feet, and wiped the water and sand from the bottom of his white robes. "Until we meet again," the wizard said with a smile. Pippin nodded, and watched his old friend walk up the runway into the boat. "Until then," he whispered back.
By Talking Hawk
Pippin couldn't believe it. They were leaving. To the young hobbit's utter bewilderment, Bilbo, Frodo, and Gandalf were leaving. He sat before the campfire, staring at its dancing flames as half the group was lying in their blankets asleep. With him were the trio, his cousin Merry, and his friend Sam. Merry and Bilbo had conked out almost immediately after supper, and Sam and Frodo were sitting away from the site, engrossed in some conversation, realizing that their time together would soon draw to a close.
The Took sighed as he returned his hazel eyes to the crackling blaze. His mind was too pressed with a worry to bother with adding Frodo and Sam's questionable emotional stability to that. As he sat quietly on the cold stone beneath his rear, the aged wizard suddenly appeared. Perhaps the white-robed man had taken a stroll down the beach, pondering over the fact that the next day's journey would forever separate himself from his metaphorical home in Middle Earth.
"Peregrin," he said, raising his bushy eyebrows at the hobbit, and Pippin blinked his eyes as if snapping out of a daze. "Oh, hullo," he said awkwardly, then lowered his eyes back to the fire. The corner of Gandalf's lips twisted downward in a sort of frown, and he laid down his staff and sat on a two-foot tall rock next to the Took. "I would have thought that you have retired for the night by now," the wizard said, but Pippin didn't lift his eyes to meet the other's.
Gandalf the White frowned again, and scrutinized his conversation companion. "What is it that is weighing upon your mind?" he asked in a concerned tone. Pippin sighed again – very un-Pippin like, Gandalf noted. "Oh, I don't know…" he mumbled, his voice trailing off as if his words were leaving a rope upon the ground in the midst of the fog, tempting whoever is there to follow it. "Tell me," the wizard urged gently, and Pippin paused.
The hobbit lifted a pair of sad, thoughtful eyes at the wizard; Gandalf couldn't help but be startled to see such depth and despair in those hazel eyes that one would assume that would only be filled with mischief and unintentional stupidity. The man quickly regained his composure as Pippin began speaking. "I was just thinking…" He averted his eyes back to the fire's roaring flames and continued, "…about old times." "And?" the wizard pressed, worry growing in his tone. What could make the cheerful hobbit this sad?
"And you." The wizard lifted a bushy eyebrow, not quite sure where this vague dialogue would be leading. Pushing back any rash conclusions that arose in his mind, he waited patiently for Pippin to say more. The young hobbit looked up at the old man with those sad eyes and said, "I know I mess up…a lot. But why do you hate me?"
Gandalf nearly fell off his rock, quite taken aback by this response. Once he restabilized his seat on the stone, he said, "Hate you? Why on earth would you think that?" Pippin winced and his neck shrunk in between his shoulders as if expecting to be hit. The wizard calmed down, and gazed down at the hobbit gently, hoping this would coax a response out of the other.
After a long moment, Pippin said, "It seems that all the time you're getting mad at me for something… I can understand why, but there just seems to be no end to it. So, that's why I ask, why do you hate me?"
"I honestly don't, Peregrin," a sad gleam growing in the wizard's eyes, but the hobbit turned away from him. Seeing that Pippin would need some convincing, Gandalf said, "I suppose I have some explaining to do for you to believe me…"
* * *
It was a beautiful spring morning in the year 1393. The Shire was in full bloom – wildflowers along the side of the road had bumblebees flying about them busily, the bluebirds in the trees were feeding their chirping chicks, and the grass was a deep shade of green after the long winter. The old wizard sat tranquilly on top of his wagon, absorbing the beauty of the countryside. His brown horse trotted along daintily, enjoying the exercise after having been cooped up all winter.
After a time, Gandalf finally arrived in Hobbiton. The hobbit folk waved merrily at him, pleased of his return to their homeland. A couple of them gave him an evil glare as he passed by them down the pebble-covered road, but it didn't bother him so much. He was accustomed to being labeled a "disturber of the peace" since the adventure to the Lonely Mountain.
Upon his wagon rolling into town, he headed straight for Bag-End, the home of his two closest friends. As he stopped his horse in front of the hobbit hole, he saw two hobbits kneeling over a small rosebush, one even down on his hands and knees. Gandalf tied his horse to a tree next to the road, giving the animal enough of a rein to enable him to bend his head down to eat the sweet grass beneath his hooves. After doing so, the old wizard approached the two hobbits.
"I don't understand," the hobbit on his hands and knees said to the other. "It was just fine a week ago." Gandalf looked over the hobbit's heads, and saw that the one speaking was holding one of the plant's green leaves in his small hand. Half of the leaf, to his surprise, was gone, with tiny bite marks marking its leaves. "Maybe it's a bug," the other suggested, scratching his brown curly-haired head. "But I don't understand," the other said, returning to a kneeling position. "I always checked it for bugs."
The wizard smiled and cried out, "Frodo, Samwise!" The two hobbits jumped, and spun around in fright to identify the voice's owner. Frodo smiled with excitement, while the Gamgee sighed in relief. The Baggins jumped into the wizard's arms and laughed happily, saying, "Gandalf! We were never thinking you ever were going to come back!" The wizard grinned as the thirteen-year-old Sam casually stood up and brushed the wet dirt off his knees.
"We had begun to think you had found yourself a girlfriend," Sam poked good-humoredly as he approached Gandalf. The wizard smiled and ruffled the boy's curls. "I HAVE been gone for quite awhile. Long enough for you to become a tease, Samwise Gamgee." The youngest hobbit smirked, and Frodo glanced at him and chuckled. "Uncle Bilbo will be so happy to see you!" Frodo announced, practically bouncing with exhilaration. Gandalf laughed, and put a hand on the young hobbit's shoulder to calm him down.
"Now where is the old rascal?" he inquired. "The old rascal's right here," a new voice said, and the wizard lifted his aged blue eyes to it. They fell upon a chubby grinning middle-aged hobbit standing in the doorway. Bilbo and Gandalf laughed, and the former came outside and shook hands with his old friend. "It's so good to see you!" the hobbit cried out warmly, but to Gandalf's surprise, Bilbo suddenly fell over and his hand slipped from the handshake.
"Merry!" Frodo half-shouted as he helped his uncle to his feet. It was then that the wizard noticed a younger hobbit with dishwater blonde curls getting back to his feet after having crashed into Bilbo. He shook his head dizzily, and recovered a small ball that was sitting on the ground at the scene of the accident. "Whoops, sorry," he said, running a hand through his curls regrettably. Gandalf guessed that he was about eleven.
"Is this Meriadoc Brandybuck?" the wizard inquired, eying the hobbit carefully. Merry turned to the redwood of a man and nodded hesitantly, eyes blinking with confusion. "You were just a babe the last time I saw you!" Gandalf laughed. The now standing Bilbo smiled, and said, "He's a bit of a mischief, but he's all right when isn't playing ball with Pippin." The oldest hobbit laughed, and patted Merry's back, who smiled.
"Who's Pip-" the man was about to ask as his robes shifted unnaturally. "Nope, no Mewwy hewe," a tiny voice observed, and the wizard looked down. A small head had just poked his head out from beneath the gray robes, and was looking about the grass carefully. "It's wike a ciwcus tent in hewe," he said just as he looked up to see Gandalf's surprised face.
"Pippin!" Bilbo shouted, scooping up the toddler into his arms, making Gandalf's robes ripple as if a breeze had come along. "What have I told you about looking under people's dresses?" the hobbit scolded as Pippin blinked innocently. "You onwy said that about giwls!" he argued, pointing at the wizard. "He's not a giwl!" Bilbo sighed with exasperation, and returned his attention to the now chuckling wizard. "I'm so sorry," he apologized, glancing back at Pippin, "he's always snooping around where he shouldn't."
"Quite all right, quite all right," Gandalf laughed, waving a hand absently. "No harm done. Now," he said, looking more closely at the boy, who now tried to hide in Bilbo's arms, a little fearful of this stranger, "whose is he?"
"Paladin and Eglantine Took's," Bilbo said, relieved that Gandalf hadn't been offended by Pippin's curiosity. "They also had another daughter while you were away." Bilbo then looked down at the toddler, then back up at the wizard. "His name is Peregrin, but we all call him Pippin for short." "Well," the wizard said with a grin, looking down at the young hobbit, "it's very nice to meet you."
To the man's slight surprise, Pippin didn't return his gaze, but was instead eying his long, white beard. In one fluid motion, the Took stuck a small hand in his pants pocket, drew out something long and shiny, then held it out in front of him. Just before Gandalf realized that the glimmering metallic piece was a pair of scissors, the young hobbit had stuck both his small hands in the handles, opened up the pair of blades widely, and hacked off half of the white beard.
For the first time in any of there lives, they saw the wizard flapping his arms violently in fury. "IT'S GONE! IT'S GONE!" he cried out, spinning about in circles in hysteria. "IT TOOK ME A HUNDRED YEARS TO MAKE IT GROW THAT LONG! AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" The man began snatching handfuls of his head hair in anger, growling in frustration.
"Um, sorry," Bilbo said, inching away from the mad wizard. "Pippin's been in a cutting fit since yesterday when he found the scissors…" Gandalf ignored him, continuing to stomp his feet, and the hobbit ushered the four boys to run off.
* * *
After about an hour of so of huffing and puffing, the wizard finally came to his senses. He was still a bit irritated, but after filling his belly with warm food for supper, he contented himself with sitting in front of the fire in a rocking chair reading a book. Frodo had returned silently a while ago, and after Gandalf acknowledged that he was just fine now, the young Baggins decided he was safe to stay.
As he flipped a page of his book, the door thumped as someone knocked on it from outside. The wizard looked up, and as Bilbo approached the door, the series of knocks were hurried and short, as opposed to long and patient. The owner of Bag End opened the door to find a nervous-looking Merry still holding his arm up, prepared to knock again. "What's wrong, my boy?" Bilbo asked, letting the young hobbit in. Frodo walked into the living room after hearing the commotion.
"It's Pippin!" the boy cried out, remaining outside on the doorstep. He gasped for the need of oxygen, and continued, "I think he's lost. He didn't even go home for supper!" Bilbo frowned, his eyebrows knitting worriedly. "Then it must be serious," he said, snatching his and Frodo's coats from the wooden pegs in the hallway. The hobbit tossed the coat to Frodo as he walked up to him, and Bilbo swiftly stuck his arms through his sleeves. "Who else is looking for him?" he asked as the three began walking out the door.
Gandalf shouted, "I will come." Bilbo stopped and poked his head back through the door. "Are you sure?" he asked, and the wizard stood up and nodded. "It is most likely my fault," he said guiltily, picking up his staff. "I will join you." The Baggins nodded somberly, and turned back to Merry.
"His parents and the Gamgees are out looking for him," the young boy told him as they continued out the door. Gandalf closed the door behind him. "His parents are still checking around town, and the Gamgees have moved into the woods. Mr. Gamgee told me to tell you that he could use more help looking around the river." The other two hobbits and the wizard nodded, and ran swiftly down the path leading to the river.
* * *
"Pip-pin! Pip-PIN!" Merry called out, walking along the river's sandy bank. Frodo and Bilbo brandished torches as they combed through the trees along the river's edge. As Gandalf searched deeper into the woods, he could hear the shouts and cries behind him from the three hobbits, and others that probably belonged to one of the Gamgees. The wizard knitted his brow, and searched carefully through the bushes.
"Oh, Peregrin," he whispered to himself as he brushed leaves before him with his staff, fearing that he might accidentally miss the hobbit if he was covered in them for warmth in the frigid night breeze. "I'm sorry I bellowed at you. It's only hair, I must admit…" He sighed sadly to himself as he heard a bird calling into the night, disappointed in himself for how he had acted that afternoon and for how he wasn't making any progress in finding the boy.
"Peregrin," he called out to the almost entirely tree-covered sky above, as if pleading to the gods, "just be safe." He looked up at the forest's canopy, hoping to receive a sliver of hope, but upon getting none, he sighed and hung his head. After a moment, he lifted his eyes, and to his amazement, saw the young hobbit's peaceful face.
The wizard's eyes widened, and ran up to the still body, lying motionlessly on a patch of clovers beneath a tree. He kneeled down next to him, holding out his thick hand hesitantly. More than once had he found men lying down like this, a deceiving peaceful look upon their face, with their skin cold to the touch in death. After sitting like this for a moment, Gandalf's shaking hand touched the boy's arm. To the wizard's profound relief, it was warm. Sighing gratefully, he scooped the sleeping form up into his arms, and stood up again.
"Thank heavens," he whispered to himself, glancing down at the boy's calm face before starting off in search of the search party.
* * *
The hobbit blinked in surprise, and said slowly, "I don't even remember that…" Gandalf smiled, and readjusted himself on his stone seat. "Well, you were still a youngster," he assured him. "It's understandable."
Pippin's eyes glimmered with tears of realization, and his lowered head looked up again at the wizard. Gandalf smiled again, and look of fondness in his eyes. He put his hand on the hobbit's shoulder and said, "I admit, Peregrin, that I thought of you as a mischief sometimes." Pippin lowered his eyes, and Gandalf continued after a slight hesitation, "But perhaps more so than any of the other hobbits, when I thought of Hobbiton, you were a piece of the puzzle I looked fondly back upon, and without you, my memory of Hobbiton wouldn't have been the same."
The hobbit's eyes lifted, a tear escaping from his glazed-over eyes. He put his small hand on the wizard's, and Gandalf said, his eyes twinkling with affection, "Thank you for that memory." Pippin nodded, and the tears all began to flow.
* * *
Early the next morning, the elvish boat arrived. Pippin, Merry, and Sam stood in a line on the beach after saying their farewells to the trio. After numerous hugs and tender words, Frodo and Bilbo stepped aboard the boat. Gandalf was about to follow when a hand snatched his wrist. He looked down, and saw Pippin standing in the ankle-deep water, a look of sadness in his eyes.
"I'm sorry," the young hobbit said, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry for not knowing." Gandalf smiled sadly, and put his hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "Don't be," the wizard said, squeezing the shoulder beneath his hand comfortingly. "You now know. I'm just happy that you now know." Gandalf fell to his knees, and the two hugged.
After a moment, the wizard returned to his feet, and wiped the water and sand from the bottom of his white robes. "Until we meet again," the wizard said with a smile. Pippin nodded, and watched his old friend walk up the runway into the boat. "Until then," he whispered back.