Chapter Eight: Too Late
A/N: This is a little short for my liking, but this should do for a post.
It was four hours past noon when Pippin stepped outside into the fresh air. He inhaled deeply and spun himself around twice, joyful to see the sun again. It would only be three hours until he would set out on the trail and carefully sneak off into the night.
He idly strolled down the path leading west of Tuckborough, and finally reached the deep green fields of Whitwell where his father was the head farmer. Here he stopped and looked around for a bit, searching the land for someone. A straw hat peeped out of the tall tomato crops and soon was followed by a young hobbit around Pippin's age. The hobbit sighed and dusted off the dirt that had stuck to his trousers.
Pippin smirked and yelled out, "Picking tomatoes again today, Nibs?"
The hobbit turned around at Pippin's voice and smiled. "Master Peregrin, well if it ain't a welcome surprise!" he exclaimed and disappeared under the tomato crops, only to reappear a few feet from Pippin. The hobbit lad had blonde curly hair and a cheerful face with round cheeks and fair green eyes. Pippin smiled and went to hug him, but the hobbit held up his hands. "I doubt you ought to be doing that, Master Peregrin. Don't want to see your pretty clothes getting all ruined and soiled, do we?"
Pippin shrugged. "My clothes always get dirty no matter what I do, Carl. And please, I prefer Pippin. I wanted to ask you something."
"Well, ask away Master Per. uh, Pippin."
"Have you seen Merry lately?"
Carl thought a moment. "No, not lately. But I think I have heard of some of his doings within the past few days."
"Oh? Like what?" Pippin asked, pretending to be half-interested when really his whole being quivered for news of Merry.
"Well, there has been talk that he is going away with his father for quite a while. They were sposed to go today, but that might have been delayed a while. Bucklanders ain't ones for rushing things, for sure."
Pippin rocked on his heels. "Where are they going to?"
Carl shrugged. "I don't know really. I said what I heard."
Pippin nodded. "Well thank you, Nibs. I really had better go. Getting pretty late, you know. Good-bye!"
With that he started along down the path again. Carl sighed. "At least tomatoes aren't hard to figure."
Pippin walked a little ways more and once he was sure no one was able to see him, he turned left and sped off towards Buckland. His heart was pounding at least a hundred beats a minute. He was filled with excitement and longing for the feel of his best friend's arms around him and Merry's soft whispered words of comfort in his ear, yet hoping against hope that Merry had not left already and that his best friend would take him back after the recent events.
After twenty minutes of dodging around from corner to corner and making sure no one had noticed him, he came to the swiftly flowing Brandywine River and crossed the stone bridge without making too much noise. All that could be heard of him was his shallow breathing and the quick patter of his hurrying feet.
He raced quickly across the path, almost subconsciously knowing every dodge and turn of the road leading to Buckland. Around an hour later he finally reached the first doorstep of Brandy Hall, and with his heart and head as light as a feather knocked on the round wooden door. One of the servants who had heard opened the door to find Pippin with his hand up in the air ready to knock again.
Putting his clenched hand back down, Pippin said, "Oh, hello. Is Merry around? I need to speak with him."
"I am sorry, dear. Young Master Brandybuck isn't here. He left this morning and will not be back for a while yet."
"How long?" Pippin asked.
"He won't be back until Foreyule," she replied. "I don't know where they left off to, either. You had better go home. It is getting late and I need to see to my duties." With that she shut the door, leaving a terribly shocked Pippin on the doorstep.
"Two months!" Pippin wailed inside. "I can't live without him a whole two months!"
With those thoughts he trampled blindly back home through the surrounding darkness, his feet as heavy as his heart.
Eglantine had searched everywhere for Pippin, but no luck. She at last gave up and sat down at the kitchen counter, noticing Pervinca near one of the pantries.
"Pervinca, have you seen Peregrin?" she asked. Her daughter turned at her voice.
"Oh, mum. Pip... Pippin uh, hmm. He said he was going to find Carl Cotton. Probably over in Whitwell."
"Well then, I'll go look for him," Eglantine replied as she stood and went to find her coat.
"Well actually, Mum," Pervinca started. Eglantine came back into the kitchen. "Pippin should be back within the hour. I told him he should be home by supper."
Her mother nodded. "Well, if it is that soon then I guess I will wait. Speaking of supper, do you know what the cooks are preparing?"
Pervinca shrugged. "No."
Eglantine turned, but paused a moment. "Oh, by the way, Pervinca. I don't want any of you children going around Buckland for the time being. Or for that matter crossing the bridge!" Her daughter only nodded, keeping a calm veil over her face as she quickly made a lament up for Pippin to sing at his funeral.
A/N: This is a little short for my liking, but this should do for a post.
It was four hours past noon when Pippin stepped outside into the fresh air. He inhaled deeply and spun himself around twice, joyful to see the sun again. It would only be three hours until he would set out on the trail and carefully sneak off into the night.
He idly strolled down the path leading west of Tuckborough, and finally reached the deep green fields of Whitwell where his father was the head farmer. Here he stopped and looked around for a bit, searching the land for someone. A straw hat peeped out of the tall tomato crops and soon was followed by a young hobbit around Pippin's age. The hobbit sighed and dusted off the dirt that had stuck to his trousers.
Pippin smirked and yelled out, "Picking tomatoes again today, Nibs?"
The hobbit turned around at Pippin's voice and smiled. "Master Peregrin, well if it ain't a welcome surprise!" he exclaimed and disappeared under the tomato crops, only to reappear a few feet from Pippin. The hobbit lad had blonde curly hair and a cheerful face with round cheeks and fair green eyes. Pippin smiled and went to hug him, but the hobbit held up his hands. "I doubt you ought to be doing that, Master Peregrin. Don't want to see your pretty clothes getting all ruined and soiled, do we?"
Pippin shrugged. "My clothes always get dirty no matter what I do, Carl. And please, I prefer Pippin. I wanted to ask you something."
"Well, ask away Master Per. uh, Pippin."
"Have you seen Merry lately?"
Carl thought a moment. "No, not lately. But I think I have heard of some of his doings within the past few days."
"Oh? Like what?" Pippin asked, pretending to be half-interested when really his whole being quivered for news of Merry.
"Well, there has been talk that he is going away with his father for quite a while. They were sposed to go today, but that might have been delayed a while. Bucklanders ain't ones for rushing things, for sure."
Pippin rocked on his heels. "Where are they going to?"
Carl shrugged. "I don't know really. I said what I heard."
Pippin nodded. "Well thank you, Nibs. I really had better go. Getting pretty late, you know. Good-bye!"
With that he started along down the path again. Carl sighed. "At least tomatoes aren't hard to figure."
Pippin walked a little ways more and once he was sure no one was able to see him, he turned left and sped off towards Buckland. His heart was pounding at least a hundred beats a minute. He was filled with excitement and longing for the feel of his best friend's arms around him and Merry's soft whispered words of comfort in his ear, yet hoping against hope that Merry had not left already and that his best friend would take him back after the recent events.
After twenty minutes of dodging around from corner to corner and making sure no one had noticed him, he came to the swiftly flowing Brandywine River and crossed the stone bridge without making too much noise. All that could be heard of him was his shallow breathing and the quick patter of his hurrying feet.
He raced quickly across the path, almost subconsciously knowing every dodge and turn of the road leading to Buckland. Around an hour later he finally reached the first doorstep of Brandy Hall, and with his heart and head as light as a feather knocked on the round wooden door. One of the servants who had heard opened the door to find Pippin with his hand up in the air ready to knock again.
Putting his clenched hand back down, Pippin said, "Oh, hello. Is Merry around? I need to speak with him."
"I am sorry, dear. Young Master Brandybuck isn't here. He left this morning and will not be back for a while yet."
"How long?" Pippin asked.
"He won't be back until Foreyule," she replied. "I don't know where they left off to, either. You had better go home. It is getting late and I need to see to my duties." With that she shut the door, leaving a terribly shocked Pippin on the doorstep.
"Two months!" Pippin wailed inside. "I can't live without him a whole two months!"
With those thoughts he trampled blindly back home through the surrounding darkness, his feet as heavy as his heart.
Eglantine had searched everywhere for Pippin, but no luck. She at last gave up and sat down at the kitchen counter, noticing Pervinca near one of the pantries.
"Pervinca, have you seen Peregrin?" she asked. Her daughter turned at her voice.
"Oh, mum. Pip... Pippin uh, hmm. He said he was going to find Carl Cotton. Probably over in Whitwell."
"Well then, I'll go look for him," Eglantine replied as she stood and went to find her coat.
"Well actually, Mum," Pervinca started. Eglantine came back into the kitchen. "Pippin should be back within the hour. I told him he should be home by supper."
Her mother nodded. "Well, if it is that soon then I guess I will wait. Speaking of supper, do you know what the cooks are preparing?"
Pervinca shrugged. "No."
Eglantine turned, but paused a moment. "Oh, by the way, Pervinca. I don't want any of you children going around Buckland for the time being. Or for that matter crossing the bridge!" Her daughter only nodded, keeping a calm veil over her face as she quickly made a lament up for Pippin to sing at his funeral.