While they Walked
Chapter 12: Complaints
A/N: Mirielle, I wrote the last chapter late at night, thinking everything was fine and dandy and posted it, only to read it next morning and find that Bilbo had joined the fellowship and I had no time to change it before school. I'm flattered that you think mine is a good story, but, for the sake of keeping my head at its proper size, I'm sure there are better ones out there somewhere.
Kat-mle, I'm interested as to know what kind of childhood trauma would lead to obsessive neatness.
Everyone, I am sorry to say that, if I don't have a sudden spark of inspiration, the next chapter may well be the last. You know that I'll be thinking hard about new ideas though. Anyway, you're here to read the story, so here it is:
"Gandalf." Pippin moaned, as he had throughout most of the journey, "My feet hurt."
"What am I supposed to do about that?" asked Gandalf sharply over his shoulder.
"I don't know, you're the wizard not me, I thought you were meant to be wise!"
"I may be wise, but that does not mean I can work miracles!"
Boromir wondered at, as it seemed to him, Pippin's bravery talking to the Istari in such a way. He inclined his head to Merry, who was walking next to him.
"He's spoilt." said Merry before Boromir had even drawn breath to speak. "He's the youngest son of a wealthy family and only heir to the Thainship, he's bound to be spoilt."
"But I thought that you were the youngest, well, only son of a rich family." said Boromir, frowning slightly, hoping that he hadn't muddled the hobbits up again, he was becoming quite proud of his abilities to tell them apart.
"Yes, but I am the youngest of the Brandybuck family, a well-respected family of high esteem who manage to refrain from spoiling their children as readily as the Tooks." said Merry proudly.
"Says the one who didn't have to grow up with the most spoilt hobbit in the history of the Shire." Said Frodo as he strolled up beside them, keeping an eye on Pippin's ongoing argument. "Frodo, I want that wooden block!" he said in an imitation of Merry's childish voice. "No Frodo, not that one, THAT one! Frodo, give it here! Frodo you're a horrid cousin!"
"I never said that!"
"I assure you that you did. Look, next time you see Bilbo, you ask him, he was there!"
"Perhaps I was just in a bad mood when I visited you."
"Every time? You always ended up saying it one way or another. At least Pippin said thank you when you gave him what he wanted."
"Well, Frodo, perhaps you were a horrid cousin."
"Yes Merry, I'm sure I was." Boromir smiled at the hobbit's small argument. It sounded like a tired aunt talking to a young... how could he put it, spoilt child.
"Pippin," said Aragorn, finally becoming tired of his moaning, "As much as I care for you and your feet, could you please just not mention them again for at least another hour."
"Oh but Strider, if you don't complain then you'll never get anything you want the way you want it." replied Pippin.
"Pippin, you can't always have everything the way you want it."
"But it can't hurt to try though. Can it?" asked Pippin, genuinely interested.
"That depends upon the patience of your travelling companions."
There was a short silence.
"Strider?"
"Yes Pippin?"
"Surely you're tired?"
"Not particularly."
"You can't be completely and utterly comfortable as though you've been lying in your bed for a week."
"Of course not, I have an itchy patch of dry skin on my finger that won't go away, but I don't complain because no one can do anything about it."
"It's not possible to be perfectly comfortable while you're travelling." joined Boromir, "For example my lips are dry, cracked and bleeding but-"
"They are?" said Pippin, surprised, "Why didn't you say? Let me have a look," Pippin made Boromir get down on his knees and inspected his lips. "Boromir, these are in terrible condition, you should have said something sooner." he turned back towards Gandalf and called to him, "See Gandalf? These people are suffering in silence! Strider and his finger – stop scratching it, you won't make it any better that way - and Boromir with his lips. There are bound to be some more!" said Pippin, looking around.
"Well, I did get a thorn in my foot." admitted Merry quietly.
"You see Gandalf? Merry even got a thorn- Merry, wherever did you get a thorn from?"
"I was looking for a private place away from you to do my business in!" said Merry with a smile on his face.
"Fine. Legola-"Before Pippin had even finished his name, he realised that Legolas was not likely to have any complaints. "Erm, Gimli?"
"No." said Gimli almost immediately. "Nothing big enough to make a fuss about."
"Oh Gimli." said Pippin, shaking his head, "Everything is big enough to make a fuss about. Come on."
"Well, I must admit that my boots are pinching a little."
"Always said boots were useless." said Pippin quietly to himself, "So we have Strider's finger, Boromir's lips – stop picking at them Boromir – Merry's thorn and Gimli's boots. Anyone else?" Pippin looked expectantly around at the rest of the fellowship. "Sam, I saw you stub your toe, that must have hurt."
"Well of course it did."
"Does it still?" Sam lowered his head and said as quietly as he could,
"Yes." he didn't like being apart of Pippin's argument against Gandalf.
"And Frodo?" Pippin turned to look at Frodo. "Oh you just have to look at him to see it, he's in constant pain from his terrible burden."
"I may not participate in wrestling very often but it doesn't mean I can't when I'm pushed!" warned Frodo. Pippin smiled and turned to face Gandalf's back once more.
"That's seven out of nine people in pain Gandalf, what do you say to that?" Pippin was getting a little cocky.
"What do I say to that?" The tone in Gandalf's voice made seven members of the fellowship glad that they were not Pippin and one member not so happy that he was. "What I say, Peregrin Took, is that I have a complaint of my own, after wandering Middle-earth for thousands of years, I have yet to find a creature that can so readily get on my nerves as you!" Frodo thought to himself that a five-year-old Merry would be close competition, but refrained from saying anything.
And for once, Pippin was perfectly silent.
Chapter 12: Complaints
A/N: Mirielle, I wrote the last chapter late at night, thinking everything was fine and dandy and posted it, only to read it next morning and find that Bilbo had joined the fellowship and I had no time to change it before school. I'm flattered that you think mine is a good story, but, for the sake of keeping my head at its proper size, I'm sure there are better ones out there somewhere.
Kat-mle, I'm interested as to know what kind of childhood trauma would lead to obsessive neatness.
Everyone, I am sorry to say that, if I don't have a sudden spark of inspiration, the next chapter may well be the last. You know that I'll be thinking hard about new ideas though. Anyway, you're here to read the story, so here it is:
"Gandalf." Pippin moaned, as he had throughout most of the journey, "My feet hurt."
"What am I supposed to do about that?" asked Gandalf sharply over his shoulder.
"I don't know, you're the wizard not me, I thought you were meant to be wise!"
"I may be wise, but that does not mean I can work miracles!"
Boromir wondered at, as it seemed to him, Pippin's bravery talking to the Istari in such a way. He inclined his head to Merry, who was walking next to him.
"He's spoilt." said Merry before Boromir had even drawn breath to speak. "He's the youngest son of a wealthy family and only heir to the Thainship, he's bound to be spoilt."
"But I thought that you were the youngest, well, only son of a rich family." said Boromir, frowning slightly, hoping that he hadn't muddled the hobbits up again, he was becoming quite proud of his abilities to tell them apart.
"Yes, but I am the youngest of the Brandybuck family, a well-respected family of high esteem who manage to refrain from spoiling their children as readily as the Tooks." said Merry proudly.
"Says the one who didn't have to grow up with the most spoilt hobbit in the history of the Shire." Said Frodo as he strolled up beside them, keeping an eye on Pippin's ongoing argument. "Frodo, I want that wooden block!" he said in an imitation of Merry's childish voice. "No Frodo, not that one, THAT one! Frodo, give it here! Frodo you're a horrid cousin!"
"I never said that!"
"I assure you that you did. Look, next time you see Bilbo, you ask him, he was there!"
"Perhaps I was just in a bad mood when I visited you."
"Every time? You always ended up saying it one way or another. At least Pippin said thank you when you gave him what he wanted."
"Well, Frodo, perhaps you were a horrid cousin."
"Yes Merry, I'm sure I was." Boromir smiled at the hobbit's small argument. It sounded like a tired aunt talking to a young... how could he put it, spoilt child.
"Pippin," said Aragorn, finally becoming tired of his moaning, "As much as I care for you and your feet, could you please just not mention them again for at least another hour."
"Oh but Strider, if you don't complain then you'll never get anything you want the way you want it." replied Pippin.
"Pippin, you can't always have everything the way you want it."
"But it can't hurt to try though. Can it?" asked Pippin, genuinely interested.
"That depends upon the patience of your travelling companions."
There was a short silence.
"Strider?"
"Yes Pippin?"
"Surely you're tired?"
"Not particularly."
"You can't be completely and utterly comfortable as though you've been lying in your bed for a week."
"Of course not, I have an itchy patch of dry skin on my finger that won't go away, but I don't complain because no one can do anything about it."
"It's not possible to be perfectly comfortable while you're travelling." joined Boromir, "For example my lips are dry, cracked and bleeding but-"
"They are?" said Pippin, surprised, "Why didn't you say? Let me have a look," Pippin made Boromir get down on his knees and inspected his lips. "Boromir, these are in terrible condition, you should have said something sooner." he turned back towards Gandalf and called to him, "See Gandalf? These people are suffering in silence! Strider and his finger – stop scratching it, you won't make it any better that way - and Boromir with his lips. There are bound to be some more!" said Pippin, looking around.
"Well, I did get a thorn in my foot." admitted Merry quietly.
"You see Gandalf? Merry even got a thorn- Merry, wherever did you get a thorn from?"
"I was looking for a private place away from you to do my business in!" said Merry with a smile on his face.
"Fine. Legola-"Before Pippin had even finished his name, he realised that Legolas was not likely to have any complaints. "Erm, Gimli?"
"No." said Gimli almost immediately. "Nothing big enough to make a fuss about."
"Oh Gimli." said Pippin, shaking his head, "Everything is big enough to make a fuss about. Come on."
"Well, I must admit that my boots are pinching a little."
"Always said boots were useless." said Pippin quietly to himself, "So we have Strider's finger, Boromir's lips – stop picking at them Boromir – Merry's thorn and Gimli's boots. Anyone else?" Pippin looked expectantly around at the rest of the fellowship. "Sam, I saw you stub your toe, that must have hurt."
"Well of course it did."
"Does it still?" Sam lowered his head and said as quietly as he could,
"Yes." he didn't like being apart of Pippin's argument against Gandalf.
"And Frodo?" Pippin turned to look at Frodo. "Oh you just have to look at him to see it, he's in constant pain from his terrible burden."
"I may not participate in wrestling very often but it doesn't mean I can't when I'm pushed!" warned Frodo. Pippin smiled and turned to face Gandalf's back once more.
"That's seven out of nine people in pain Gandalf, what do you say to that?" Pippin was getting a little cocky.
"What do I say to that?" The tone in Gandalf's voice made seven members of the fellowship glad that they were not Pippin and one member not so happy that he was. "What I say, Peregrin Took, is that I have a complaint of my own, after wandering Middle-earth for thousands of years, I have yet to find a creature that can so readily get on my nerves as you!" Frodo thought to himself that a five-year-old Merry would be close competition, but refrained from saying anything.
And for once, Pippin was perfectly silent.