Chapter 8: Crushed

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Pippin tried to control his crying but his breaths came out in choking gasps, "W-what am I go-going t-t-to do? I d-d--," Pippin sobbed and Merry squeezed his hand. The fiddle was facing up, helpless in its own miserable state. Even the wood seemed duller now that it was unable to play.

"There's no need to explain, Pip. I feel awful...if I wasn't so eager to get you outside with my boat, none of this would have happened," Merry said and his eyes stung with tears when he saw Pippin's pale face streamed from tears of weeping.

"No, I won't have you blamin' y-yourself. I promised to my Da to take care of the fiddle. Oh Da! How will I ever show him the shattered fiddle he trusted me with?!" Pippin cried and Merry collected the splintered bridge from the floor.

"Perhaps your Da doesn't need to find out," Merry suggested and Pippin turned to him, confused and worried, "What I'm thinking, Pip, is that you can get the fiddle fixed before your father ever finds out. You know my wooden boat, see? Maybe I can bring in your broken bridge to the hobbit who made my boat and I can get him to make you a new one." Merry said soothingly and Pippin looked up with slight hope in his eyes.

He stood up and went to his bed and lifted the mattress. When he turned to Merry he placed two small coins in his hand. "Here, I am afraid it's not much." Pippin said feebly and Merry laughed, breaking the tension in the room.

"Dear Pippin, I do not need any money from your pocket! And don't even try to convince me to take it!" Merry said smiling and tried to bring Pippin's spirits up. Pippin tried to smile back, but his chest shook with grief and he broke down sobbing again.

"I can never play the fiddle again, even if it is mended. The guilt from Da will weigh my heart if I should ever set eyes on a fiddle again!" Pippin wept and Merry embraced his cousin's trembling body.

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Three hours later, Merry set foot on the Brandywine Bridge. He had kept his hand over the pocket of his pants where the bridge lay in two pieces. He had to get it fixed for Pippin, he knew the fiddle meant everything to him. The chilling wind blew in his face and even from miles away, he could see Brandy Hall glittering under Buck Hill. He walked the sloping hills and passed by Newbury. Before he had reached the borders of Crickhollow, he ran up to a carriage passing by on the road.

"Mr. Dolimac, sir! Mr. Dolimac!" Merry yelled and the carriage stopped. The hobbit hopped down and Merry ran up to the side of the wagon. Dolimac brushed his hands off and shook Merry's hands. He was an older hobbit, the same age of his father, but he had youthful eyes and his skin was free from the deep wrinkles of old age. He was a childhood friend of his father's and he had only met him seldom in his life. His hands were slim and skillful with wood and crafts.

"What can I do for you, young Master Meriadoc? Another boat?" Dolimac smiled and Merry reached inside his pocket.

"I wondering, if you could of course, make me a replica of this." Merry said and lay the split bridge in the woodcarver's hand, "It belongs to my cousin's fiddle, Peregrin Took, and-and I'll repay you for the labor you put into it, but please I really need this for my friend. Even if you make just a simple block of wood," He pleaded and Dolimac pat his shoulder.

"Labor in making one of these, dear boy!?" Dolimac laughed and he hopped onto his carriage, "I'll have one made by tomorrow, and it will more that a 'simple block of wood', you can take my word for it," He promised and he set Pippin's bridge into his shirt pocket. "Give your Pa and family my blessin's---and your cousin's name again?"

"Peregrin Took. I'll be seeing you later, Dolimac!" Merry called to Dolimac and he snapped the reins. It clopped down the forked trail and Merry took the other towards Brandy Hall.

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Pippin sat on the floor in his room alone after Merry left through the window. He longed for Merry to be by him again, instead of being alone with his own thoughts and the fiddle abandoned on the floor by his feet. He carefully picked it up and set it in the unharmed case, the bow locked in on the side. He closed the case and made sure it was buttoned before he slid it into the dusty floor under his bed.

He flopped on his bed and wiped his eyes. He didn't know what to do. What if they did fix the fiddle and his father noticed the new bridge? Or what if they could never fix the bridge and the fiddle of the Took generations stopped at him because of his irresponsibility? At this thought, Pippin wept in his pillow.

Eglantine set the table and grabbed the food from the kitchen, "Pervinca, dear, can you get Pippin for supper?" She asked and Pervinca walked down the hall and knocked on Pippin's door.

"Pippin, suppertime," Pervinca called and Pippin lifted his head, "Thanks, 'Vinca," He said weakly and he tried to keep his voice steady. He got up and came to the clear window. The sun was setting low and the sky was pink, brushed with purple clouds. He tried to see his reflection in the window but it was hopeless. He rubbed his swollen eyes and opened his door, hoping they weren't too irritated or red.

He came quietly to the table, avoiding the eyes of his family. He looked down at his bowl full of food and listened to his family talk about various things. Pippin tried to swallow his stew but he tasted and smelled nothing. All he could think about was the sounds of his fiddle, now shattered in his ears.

Paladin laughed at Pearl's story about down at Tookbank and smiled at Pippin, "So quiet, Pippin! 'Tis one of the few times I've seen you hold your tongue!" Paladin said and winked at Pippin. Pippin nodded at he kept his head low and Paladin passed the peas to Pimpernel, "Tell you what, Pip! How about we get our your fiddle tonight and lighten your spirits," He suggested.

Pippin dropped his spoon into his bowl and it clattered against the glass, "Da, c-can I be excused? I'm not, I-I don't' feel very well," Pippin choked. Paladin studied him, realizing he was ill in the face and his cheeks were red, "Of course, Pippin. You can be excused." He said quietly and Pippin walked to his room, leaving the dinner table in an awkward silence.

The door squeaked and shut abruptly, and Pippin crawled under his covers. He couldn't imagine the look on his father's face when, or if, he would find out about his old fiddle. The thought of his da never trusting him again crushed him and he curled up in his blankets in the darkness, his eyes dry from crying so much. And before he fell into an uneasy slumber, a tear rolled down his burning face.

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Sorry so short! I won't be able to update in a while, I'm so overwhelmed with work! Yikes! Thanks for reading, and hopefully the next chapter will be up soon, I hope!