Chapter Two: Fancy Meeting You Here

After Pippin left Bag End, he rode as fast as he could back to Tuckborough and the Took's ancestral home, The Great Smials. Along the way, he made his plans to leave the Shire for Gondor the very next morning. It was rash, he knew, but he had nowhere else to go. The Shire meant being near Merry; and he'd rather be turned into an Orc than stand around and watch Estella take Merry from him.

Declaring his feelings was out of the question. Pippin had almost blurted out his secret on three separate occasions last night. Once before the cabbage exploded and two times after. It would be pointless to do so--Merry had always liked lasses and had never even glanced at Pippin in the same way he gazed at Estella. The truth would destroy everything good between them. At least if he left now, Merry might forgive him and cherish the friendship they had shared in the past.

Pippin finally reached his childhood home in the late afternoon and stabled his pony. It would have been simpler to go to Crickhollow to pack for his journey, but it would have made leaving even more painful; he and Merry had shared the little house for the past six months.

The Great Smials was a veritable warren of Hobbit holes, housing more than a hundred Tooks. Usually Pippin would welcome the crowd; the throng of relatives used to render him almost invisible, allowing him to go about his business unmolested. But since he had returned from the outside world a hero, aunts who had before called him a 'good-for-nothing rascal,' baked him fine cakes which they plied him with until even Pippin was sick at the sight of them (the cakes as well as the aunts). Uncles and cousins who had thought even less of him, considered it a great honor whenever Pippin caught their eye and mumbled a kind word.

His sister Pervinca--a pretty, dark-haired Hobbit lass--bounded into the great hall, looking more than a little put out. "What are you doing here?"

Pippin smiled. Vinca (as her closest friends and family called her) held an affectionate disrespect for her younger brother that had not altered with his heroic return to the Shire. For that alone she would always be his favorite Took relation. "None of your business. Now get me some tea."

She put her hands on her hips. "Ask nicely or you can get it yourself."

He sighed, suddenly overcome with weariness. "Please, Vinca."

She gave her brother a look of concern, then took his pack from him. "Wash up first and you can have it in the kitchen."

Pippin grinned appreciatively. Since it was so close to supper, the Hobbit women would be too busy cooking to pay him any mind as he sipped his tea in the corner. The parlor, on the other hand, would be teeming with Hobbit men who would no doubt plague him with questions and calls for stories. He trudged to his room to clean up and change into a plain, but finely-made blue velvet doublet and matching breeches.

There was so much to do if he planned to leave first thing in the morning. And though Pippin could avoid his father and uncles by taking tea in the kitchen, they would insist on his presence in the parlor after dinner. He decided he needed an accomplice if he hoped to be ready in time. Somewhat energized with anticipation, Pippin met his sister in the kitchen corner. She had made a new pot of tea and put two of Pippin's favorite frosted white cakes on a plate. "Thanks, Vinca," he said a little too enthusiastically. "Why don't you join me?"

Vinca eyed him suspiciously, but poured herself a cup and sat down across from him. "May I have one of the cakes too?"

Pippin nodded reluctantly. "Anything for my darling sister."

She narrowed her sparkling green eyes. "What do you want, Pippin?"

He didn't even try to deny he had an ulterior motive. "I need your help." He leaned forward and whispered. "I'm on a mission--for the King."

Pervinca gasped. Pippin put his fingers to his lips to quiet her. "What sort of mission?" she asked, wide-eyed.

Pippin immediately felt guilty for lying to her, but there was nothing for it. "I have a message for the King, from Frodo. It is imperative that I deliver it to him in Gondor as soon as possible."

"Gondor!" she breathed. "What does the message say?"

"I can't tell you, silly Hobbit! I will say that if this message should fall into the wrong hands...." He trailed off hoping Vinca's imagination would fill in the rest.

"What can I do?" she asked.

"There's a good lass!" he said, patting her on the arm. "I need provisions--bread, cheese, salted pork, food that will keep for many days. Also a full water bottle and an empty one to carry."

Vinca's face filled with pride. "Don't worry, little brother, I won't fail you--or the King."

Pippin groaned inwardly and gave the other cake to his sister as well. He had suddenly lost his appetite.

After a long supper and endless requests for stories and songs, Pippin locked himself in his room and started to pack. He heard a light knock on the door and started. "Who is it?"

"Vinca, of course," she said irritably. "Let me in!"

Pippin opened the door and Vinca dragged a large sack full of food inside.

Despite his increasing nervousness, Pippin laughed. "I'm taking a message to Gondor, not feeding the entire population of Minas Tirith!"

Pippin's joke not only went unappreciated, Vinca pinched him hard on the arm to show her displeasure. "I went to a lot of trouble to get this for you."

He rubbed the area and could already feel a bruise forming. "Sorry, Vinca, but there's no way I can take it all." He started to snicker. "It would crush my poor pony's back."

"Well, hurry up and take what you need so I can put the rest back before it's missed."

Pippin sorted out the food he needed, then helped his sister carry the sack back to the kitchen. "There's one more favor I need to ask of you," he said, leading her back to his room. He gave her three letters; a fourth, addressed to his parents, he kept to deliver himself. "I need you to post these in the morning."

Vinca nodded, but as she read the addresses she looked up in confusion. "One of them is addressed to Merry. Isn't he going with you?"

"No, not this time." Pippin then led her out the door. "Promise you'll do this for me?"

"I promise."

Vinca took the letters back to her own room so she could examine them further. The other two letters were addressed to Frodo and Samwise Gamgee. Her Took inquisitiveness tempted her to open them, but they were sealed. She studied the circle of red wax impressed with a letter 'B', no doubt for 'Baggins'. Pippin must have written them at Bag End. But if that was the case, why didn't he just deliver them himself while he was there? And why would Frodo need a letter if he was the one who was sending him to Gondor in the first place? After a moment's hesitation, she broke the seal on Merry's letter and read it quickly.

I cannot reveal my reasons for leaving you and the Shire, for they would bring grief and disgrace on Family and Friends.

She wiped tears of anger and sorrow out of her eyes. What reason could Pippin have for leaving that was so terrible he couldn't even tell Merry? Vinca resealed the letter with her candle and place all three on a chair.

Pippin could leave Tuckborough if he liked, but she would make certain he didn't leave quietly.

Pippin hardly slept and was up before four in the morning. He quickly dressed and had breakfast in his room, set aside from the sack Vinca had brought him. He had packed most everything the night before, so he was ready to leave within the hour. He went to the stable to saddle his pony and load his provisions on the loyal beast's back. Pippin returned to get his pack, but when he opened his bedroom door, Vinca was standing in front of it with their parents standing behind her. "Pervinca Took, how could you?"

"How could you lie to me, Pippin?" He could hear the betrayal she felt in her voice and see it in her tear-filled eyes.

"You wouldn't understand." As gently as he could, he pushed past them, grabbed his pack and hurried out of the great hall, toward the stables

"Come back here now, Peregrin Took!" His father ordered. "Or I'll write you out of my will!"

Pippin stopped and pulled the fourth letter from his pocket. He handed it to The Thain. "You can't write me out of your will because I am no longer your heir."

At the sound of the words, 'will' and 'heir', dozens of sleepy Hobbits emerged from the Great Smials and gathered in the garden to watch.

Pippin patted his pony's head as if to apologize for the long journey they faced. Taking the reins, he mounted her, but he was stopped from any further progress by his father, who grasped the bridle. "Didn't you hear me, boy? Get off this blasted pony!"

It would have been so easy to do as his father demanded. Just forget his whole ridiculous plan and remain in the Shire, living the comfortable life that was expected of him. Easy perhaps, but impossible. Pippin drew his sword slowly, taking strength from the sound of steel being released from its sheath. "Stand aside, Father. My life is my own now."

Paladin Took recoiled in horror at his only son's treachery. A collective gasp rose from the crowd of Tooks, followed by the sounds of hooves galloping east.

Long after their letters from Pippin arrived, Merry continued to pace angrily while Sam and Frodo tried to calm him down. Rosie stayed out of it, sitting quietly in the corner. When she noted the concern on Sam's face at Frodo's obvious weariness, Rosie pulled Merry into the garden for some "fresh air." She stood quietly for several minutes, allowing Merry's rant to subside.

"I think I know why Pippin left," she said softly. "It was something he told me at the wedding."

Merry's face filled with impatience mixed with hope. "Well?"

Rosie winced. "It's a secret. You know I don't tell tales."

"Then why bring me out here in the first place?" Merry replied, stamping his feet.

"That is a fair question." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "What do you suppose Pippin would tell me that he wouldn't tell you?"

Merry sighed irritably. "I haven't got time for riddles, Rosie!"

"I'm afraid I can do no better than riddles," she said firmly. "I promised Pippin I wouldn't tell."

Merry took a deep breath to calm himself and put gentle hands on her shoulders. "Some secrets have to be shared. It's not safe outside the Shire; certainly not for a Hobbit traveling alone."

Rosie's eyes widened in alarm. "But surely after all his adventures and the Battle of Bywater Pippin will be able to take care of himself?"

Merry shook his head, looking doubly worried.

"I'm sorry, Merry," Rosie said with obvious frustration. "It just isn't my place to say. But you must go after him!"

"Oh, I'll go after him, all right, and I'll drag him back here by the scruff of his neck!" After a few hasty good-byes, Merry packed his things, saddled his pony, and galloped off to Buckland.

Rosie sat by the small fire sipping her tea as Sam fussed over Frodo, while the latter protested mightily. Frodo had never looked entirely well since his return from the outer lands. For that and other reasons Sam's devotion to Frodo would never end. And though Rosie knew that Sam loved her, his large heart would always accommodate the members of the Fellowship, especially his former master. They all shared bonds that Rosie could only marvel at, but could never bring herself to be jealous of. She sincerely hoped that Merry did manage to bring Pippin back to the Shire and things could once more be right between them, in whatever way was best.

When Sam had settled Frodo in Bag End's comfiest chair, with a glass of wine and a plate of cheese and fruit within easy reach, he took his new wife's hand and took her to their room.

As he closed the door, Sam regarded Rosie suspiciously. "Call me foolish if you like, but I have a feeling that you're keeping something from me."

Rosie looked up at him with innocent loving eyes, but Sam would have none of it.

"Whatever's going on between Merry and Pippin, it seems as if you're in the middle of it."

"I'm so sorry, Sam, but I can't tell you," she said. "I couldn't even tell Merry. It's a secret."

Sam shook his head and tut-tutted. "Not one week married and already you're keeping things close. It's not right, I tell you. A very poor start to a marriage, if you ask me."

Rosie weakened. She was dying to tell someone, and telling Sam--her darling husband--was almost like telling herself. She crooked her finger and Sam leaned to the side so she could whisper Pippin's secret in his ear.

Sam's head snapped up in surprise. He mulled it over for a few moments, then nodded his head. "That explains a lot."

Unlike the last time he left the Shire for the outside world, Pippin used the Great East Road from the start and made considerably better time than before. He was headed for Bree so he could properly prepare for the long journey to Gondor. Though the road seemed quiet enough--he passed only a dozen carts traveling to and from the Shire--he camped well off the road. Even then he hardly rested. Unpleasant dreams were interrupted by eerie sounds in the trees and bushes. Pippin chastised himself again and again for the way he had treated Vinca and his father. He also missed Merry dreadfully. The pain he had been feeling the other night was excruciating now that he knew he'd never see him again.

Pippin was almost glad when finally, on the evening of his third day in self-imposed exile, he reached The Prancing Pony.

The proprietor, Barliman Butterbur recognized Pippin immediately, but couldn't recall the young Hobbit's name. Pippin supplied it gratefully and was soon settled into a cozy Hobbit hole. After a nap and a bath, Pippin changed into the King's livery, then made his way to the common room.

Thanks to the Ent-draught he and Merry had drank while in the Fangorn Forest, Pippin stood four feet four inches. That was very tall indeed for a hobbit, but still a child's height to a Man. Every eye turned when he entered the room, for it was also unusual to see a Hobbit who was a servant of the King.

Pippin ordered a pint of The Pony's finest and sat down at an empty table. He glanced at the Men and fellow Hobbits around him, smiling uneasily. No one smiled back. Two Men who were obscured by shadow, emerged into the half-light. They looked foul and dangerous as they stared greedily at Pippin in his finery.

Pippin turned his attention to his cup, wishing he could disappear into it. Suddenly, he didn't feel at all like the brave Hobbit who had killed the Troll-King at the Black Gates. But that time you were not alone. It's much easier to be brave with your friends by your side. Under his breath, he said, "I suppose I should have dressed a little less conspicuously."

"A bright orange bonnet topped with pink daisies would have drawn less attention, Peregrin Took!"

Pippin looked up at the sound of the familiar voice and a wave of relief washed over him. "Gandalf!" Pippin cried happily. He glanced over to where the two Men were and saw them making a hasty exit. Dear old Gandalf!

The old wizard, who was dressed in an inconspicuous gray cloak, sat next to the Hobbit. He filled his pipe and lit it, shaking his head as he looked Pippin up and down.

Pippin felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I thought it would help matters if I looked official. I am the King's Messenger, after all."

"And I am the White Wizard," he said in a low voice, "but I do not find it wise to advertise that fact unless I feel that doing so would be to my distinct advantage."

The Hobbit sighed. "Go on, then. Say it, I know you're dying to: 'fool of a Took!'"

"I would, but now there would be no point to it."

"Just as well," Pippin told him. "I'm in no mood for recriminations." He almost added, 'Aren't you going to ask me why?' but stopped himself in time. He didn't want Gandalf to know why he had left the Shire. Telling Rosie had only made things worse, and Pippin couldn't bear the wizard's reaction to his secret, whether it be good or bad.

"So, Pippin, what brings you so far from home--" He paused and looked Pippin deep in his eyes. "Without even your cousin Merry to accompany you?"

He looked away and took a sip of ale. Then he took another. He had to tell Gandalf something, but it couldn't be a lie, just not the whole truth. "After all I've been through.... I know I wasn't the most useful member of the Fellowship--" Pippin paused, hoping Gandalf would contradict him. When the wizard just continued to puff on his pipe, Pippin carried on. "I just feel like I've earned the right to decide things for myself, not have my life decided for me. I'm off to Gondor to do just that."

"Gondor? That's a long way for a little Hobbit, all by his lonesome." Gandalf emphasized the word lonesome.

"I can manage," Pippin replied unconvincingly. He took a deep breath, taking in the aroma of Gandalf's pipe. Southlinch, if his nose was not mistaken (and it never was when it came to pipe-weed). Pippin had some Old Toby in his pocket along with his pipe, but he doubted it would be proper to light up while he was still in uniform.

The wizard hummed and puffed for a moment or two, then shrugged his shoulders. "It's your life, as you say, but it seems to me you haven't thought this through."

"Oh, I'm thinking and planning even as we speak." I'm thinking that this was all a horrible mistake and I'm planning to crawl home and beg everyone's forgiveness. No, I can't do that! He couldn't face Merry or his family again. Pippin set his jaw and took a determined swig of ale.

Gandalf shook his head. "The Pony is all right if all you require is a fine pint of ale and a soft bed to sleep in, but it is no place for deciding the course of one's life."

Pippin suddenly decided that King Elessar wouldn't mind him smoking and rummaged in his pocket for his pipe. "What do you suggest?"

"Since you asked, I'm headed for Rivendell in the morning if you'd like to join me. A finer place for sorting things out cannot be found in Middle-earth."

Rivendell! It would be like heaven compared to the past few days, but Pippin tried not to appear too excited. "But I thought all the Elves had gone."

The wizard smiled a little sadly. "Not all. Not yet."

"I suppose I wouldn't mind keeping you company," Pippin said casually.

Gandalf harrumphed. "Just try to hold your tongue while you're doing it."

The next morning, Gandalf and Pippin settled their respective bills, then the wizard sent Pippin along to the stables. When the hobbit was out of sight, Gandalf gave Butterbur a slip of folded parchment. "When Master Meriadoc Brandybuck arrives, please give him this. He should be along shortly."

To be continued....