Author's Note: This story is inspired by the shop Pip's Original Donuts and Chai which is in Portland Oregon. The story is completely out of my own imagination and is not associated with them in any way, so please don't come after me.
The story focuses on Pippin's experience in a modern AU and touches on themes related to belonging, contentment, and finding joy in the little things.
Pippin had no idea what happened.
One moment he was lounging on a pouf in his hobbit hole, a pipe of Old Toby between his lips and a wedge of hard cheese in his hand. Diamond had been sitting across from him by the fireplace, sprawled with a book still open in her lap but snoring softly. Pippin blew out a long cloud of pale silver smoke, his eyelids feeling heavy. It was getting late, the crackling fire was so warm, and the pipeweed was settling so comfortably in his bones.
He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, he felt cool tender fabric beneath his hands. The soft twitters of birdsong sliced through the stillness of what he knew must be morning. Pippin slowly peeled his eyes open, feeling strangely exhausted as if he had just traveled a thousand miles on foot. He blinked up at a pale white ceiling.
Instinctively he knew something was wrong. There was no such color in his hobbit hole - the whole place was done in soft wood and earth tones, built from the natural resources of the Shire.
So, this was not his hobbit hole.
Pippin took a deep breath before his heartbeat could soar through the roof. He reminded himself that Sauron was defeated, that the War was over, and that they had entered a new age of peace. Whatever this was, whatever had happened, he could deal with it.
First he needed to figure out where he was. And how the hell he got here.
Pippin slowly pushed himself up on the bed, which was an absolutely enormous thing. With an unconscious sigh of relief, he saw Diamond lying beside him, still asleep. At least she's with me, and safe. The blankets on the bed were impossibly soft and silky, and the pillows did this weird thing where if Pippin pressed his handprint into it, the material rose back up slowly. Like magic.
He slid quietly out of bed and padded to a window that was veiled with thick creamy curtains embroidered with swirling leaves that instantly reminded him of the forests in the Shire. Gently pushing apart the heavy fabric, his eyes roamed to the view outside.
What the hell?
He appeared to be suspended above the ground, at the height of a full-grown maple tree. Yet he wasn't in a tree house or a small hill, but rather a very odd looking building. In fact, the buildings directly across from him were of the same style - tall, rectangular, and pale gray in color, soaring towards the sky like evergreen trees yet there was nothing natural about them.
On the ground to the right was a long black strip the width of at least six blueberry bushes. As Pippin watched, eyes round as potatoes, a large creature painted an unnaturally offensive gloss of blue roared past on the black strip, leaving only a faint cloud of dust in its wake.
Pippin released a strangled cry and leapt back from the window. Wherever this was, it was full of monsters and dangers that he knew nothing about. Heart pounding wildly in his ears, he whirled around to face the bed where he was met with the image of an awakened Diamond, sitting frozen and stunned with her eyes flying across the strange room trying to process the sudden overload of sensory information.
"Pip?" Diamond's soft voice squeaked out from trembling lips. Her eyes were wide and her skin pale. "What…where…what is going on?"
Pippin immediately rushed over and dove onto the edge of the bed. "I have no idea," he replied honestly, his own eyes matching her saucers. "We…" His mind struggled to make sense of what had happened. "We…seem to have been transported to some foreign place. Through some kind of magic. I'm not sure where we are. Or what year it is. Or…"
Or if this is even real.
This could be a dream. What if this was all in his head? Yes, that was likely. A small spark of hope ignited in his chest and spread warmly through his blood. Perhaps he had heard one too many stories from Diamond and her book collection, and this was all the production of his tired mind heavy on pipeweed. Maybe he will wake up later and realize he was back in his hobbit hole by the fireplace, and have a grand time telling Diamond all about this ridiculous dream.
Diamond was trembling slightly, and Pippin instantly reached out to grasp her hands.
He paused. Clutched in his left hand was a wedge of hard cheese.
Pippin blinked. The fleeting hope he had felt was already fading. Yet curiously his first thought was, why the cheese? Why couldn't the Old Toby have been transported here with me?
He broke off a small piece of the cheese and let the salty nuttiness explode on his tongue, coating the back of his teeth in creamy flakes.
This was all real, then.
Pippin took a deep breath. He shoved the remaining cheese in his mouth - he was never one to waste food, no matter the circumstance - and took Diamond's hands in her own. She didn't mind the cheese under his fingernails. "Okay Diamond, we can figure this out. The important thing is that we're together. Here's the plan. You stay here and try to gather clues from this place. I'll explore a bit outside, see if I run into anyone and gather any information."
Diamond nodded, her eyes sharp. She gripped Pippin's fingers hard. "Be careful Pip."
Pippin nodded. "You too Diamond. I'll be back soon." They exchanged a soft, worried kiss. Pippin made his way carefully to the bedroom door, all his senses set on the highest alert setting. To his left was a hallway studded with a few rectangular doors. Across from him was a room that opened into a large space with enormous poufs, tall bookshelves, and a strange black squarish device with a glossy reflection. To the right, at the end of the hall, was a door beyond which Pippin knew lay the entrance to this strange new world.
Pippin paused to take a few moments of deep breaths in an attempt to gather his courage. He had faced great dangers and survived. He had fought in the War and came out victorious. He could do this.
He pushed open the door.
A cool morning breeze rustled his curls as he blinked in the bright sunlight now streaming into his eyes. The door had opened into some sort of courtyard, with worn wooden steps leading to the ground, dappled with the shadows of leafy trees looming at fixed interval lengths along the building. Although the presence of the trees was comforting, the primary color of the building and the hard ground beneath his feet was a pale-ish gray, something not entirely natural.
Pippin shut the door carefully behind him and descended the stairs, noting that there seemed to be several units of living space within one building, all with the exact same rectangular door but with different gold numbers hammered into the wood surfaces. It was all quite peculiar.
He needed to figure out what was going on, where he was. Pippin descended the stairs and felt an instant rush of relief as soon as his feet touched the ground again. He had always been more comfortable while feeling the earth beneath his toes - even if this dirt was covered by a hard gray substance that looked like stone but wasn't any kind Pippin had seen before.
Pippin knew his best bet was probably finding a Local and wrestling the information from them. It was his only option, really - he was much too confused and overwhelmed to even know where else to begin searching for answers.
He hesitated then started walking towards the strange black strip to his right, where he had seen the monster roar past. Perhaps there would be someone nearby hunting those brightly colored beasts. It was the best idea he could come up with.
He must have lucked out, for there was indeed a figure walking along the black strip towards him. Pippin immediately rushed over and flagged the person down, noting that it was a human male. "Excuse me!" His voice was urgent and slightly frantic.
The man's gaze was fixed on a curious rectangular device in his hand, but when he heard the call he paused and looked up. An expression of shock flashed over his face and he did a double take, his eyes ogling. "Oh!" He gaped at Pippin. "Oh! I know! You must be dressed as one of those…those Lord of the Rings characters right? Wow! The costume looks great!"
Pippin didn't understand a single word that just came out of that man's mouth and so he chose to ignore them and instead proceeded with his own line of questioning. "Where am I?"
The man looked at him strangely. "Er…Portland."
Pippin stared with a blank expression.
"...Portland, Oregon?" The man squinted down at him, noting that his large hairy feet looked incredibly realistic. Where the hell do people buy these costumes? "Hey man, are you okay? Is this all part of the act? Is there a comic con going on? Or…"
Once again the man was speaking a completely foreign language, and Pippin didn't bother listening to him. "Where is this…Portland Oregon in relation to the Shire?"
"Er…" The man hesitated, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable and uncertain. "Sir…you know the Shire is fake right? It's a fictional place created by this guy Tolkien who wrote those books? I mean I assume you know, if you're dressed as one of his characters…" Maybe this guy hit his head or something, got amnesia. He should probably get to a hospital.
Pippin nodded, though he had no idea what the man was talking about. "What about you? Who are you? Are you friend or foe?"
The man blinked at the persistent urgency in Pippin's voice. "Uh…I'm Jay, man, nice to meet you. I mean no harm, I just live right over in that apartment complex. Hey, are you new to this area, or…? Just passing through?"
"I…" Pippin paused. "I came from over there." He pointed in the direction of the building he had just exited from.
"Oh, so you just moved in? That's cool." The man shifted his feet awkwardly as if itching to run. "Hey man, listen, I gotta get to work. It was nice to meet you. Uh, I'll see you around?"
Before Pippin could reply the man took off, scampering stiffly away from him as if he were yanking his feet out from thick mud. Pippin didn't know if this interaction had given him any information at all. No, it did provide something useful - the name of this strange place, Portland Oregon. Was this some new land in Middle Earth he had never heard of? How was he supposed to get back to the Shire?
Glancing up and down the black strip and not seeing anyone else, Pippin decided to just return to Diamond and figure out any next steps together. As he turned back towards his building of origin, he suddenly froze with a feeling of cold heavy dread dropping in his chest.
There were several buildings clustered around the courtyard from whence he came, and he hadn't realized that they all looked very similar. Therefore, he had no idea which one he had come from, or what level, or what door. Once again, he was a fool and had not anticipated this.
Being lost, that is.
Pippin clenched his teeth and started towards the building. He had to find his way back somehow. He would just have to guess.
And so Pippin scampered around the building, knocking on various doors waiting to see which one would be opened by Diamond. Most of the units were already occupied by strangers, and so he was met with very curious reactions when they saw him on their doorsteps.
"You got the wrong house, kid."
"Hey, your costume looks so good! It's from Lord of the Rings, right?"
"I like your outfit, man."
"Oh my god! I love your cosplay! You look just like Billy Boyd! Wait, there's no way you're actually him, right? Oh my god can I get a picture?"
At first Pippin couldn't understand a single word out of these peoples' mouths, but after many encounters he began to piece together snatches of information. From these scattered bits and bobs, Pippin gathered a rough idea that in this world, hobbits and Middle Earth did indeed exist - but they were believed to have been conceived as some fictional creation by one JRR Tolkien. This Tolkien man had written many books recording the history and tales of Middle Earth.
Pippin wondered where this man had gotten his information - according to these people's descriptions, it sounded like this Tolkien possessed rich inside knowledge of everything that had happened in Middle Earth history.
In this world, it also seemed that there was some sort of magical moving picture that had been created by a man named Peter Jackson, depicting the events surrounding Frodo's quest and the War. This magical picture was very popular and had spread the story of Middle Earth all over the world.
But that's what Middle Earth was, what the Shire was, to the people of this world - a story. A mere story, a fictitious concoction crafted by a literary genius. Nothing more than a fairy tale.
Pippin bit back a scoff, red hot anger boiling in his blood. Was he not real enough! As if Middle Earth could only be a story! As if Sauron was a legend! These poor ignorant humans!
He finally managed to find his way back to Diamond on the twelfth try. He knocked tiredly on the door which he now noticed to be marked with a gold 9, and was rewarded with his wife opening the door and wrapping him in a fierce hug of relief. "Oh Pip! I was starting to get worried!"
Diamond ushered him into the house, the two moving into the large room with the poufs, bookcases, and strange black rectangle. They arranged themselves on the poufs, which Pippin was delighted to find quite comfortable, and traded the bits of information they had acquired.
Pippin told her everything he had learned from his venture outside, and in turn Diamond relayed the wonders of their current lodging - how magical switches created light in the rooms, how the bathroom contained a strange bowl that sent a violent gushing swirl of water at the push of a lever, how rain could be controlled by pressure and temperature in a giant basin Diamond assumed was for bathing, how the stove heated at the twist of a button without any fire at all, and how a tiny rectangular box on the wall could control the very air temperature.
It was all quite mind-blowing.
Even the magic of the elves' had never manifested in such peculiar ways.
After a thorough discussion of their situation, Pippin and Diamond decided that for the time being, they were safe. So they might as well try and get more acquainted with their surroundings, and meanwhile keep their eyes peeled for any new information on how they might return home.
Satisfied with their plan, Pippin rose from the pouf and was suddenly interrupted by a loud angry growl rumbling from his belly. All he'd had this morning was that piece of cheese - they'd missed breakfast and second breakfast, and he was positively starving.
Diamond bit back a grin and took his hand to guide him to the kitchen. She insisted that she had discovered a magic box there that kept food icy cold, and they would use it to fix something up together.
It took several months for Pippin to get used to his new surroundings. During these months he was forced to accept the fact that some strange powerful magic had transported him and Diamond to this curious new world, and that he was unable to do much except go along with it.
Pippin learned to wear shoes in public, despite how uncomfortable they were, in order to avoid strange stares from others. He also adopted the simple yet peculiar garb of this place and learned to comb his curls so they hid the pointed tips of his ears.
He got used to, and learned how to use, the strange devices of this world that he now knew were not products of magic but instead some advanced new technologies. In fact, not many people here even believed in the existence of magic. Pippin tried not to laugh at their ignorance.
Portland Oregon was a curious place full of curious things and people. One thing Pippin did love was the abundance of beer and good food. His belly was always full and he was always discovering something new. They were able to obtain currency through taking up a couple jobs - Diamond found employment at a local cafe serving a strong bitter drink known as coffee, and Pippin scored himself a position in a bookstore that was nearly as large as Bag End.
They had fallen into a sort of cautious rhythm, having adapted more or less to this new life. Yet what refused to get better was Pippin's homesickness for the Shire, which sometimes struck him so deep and so sharp that he would find himself standing frozen with salty tears racing down his cheeks. Pippin longed for the Shire, he longed for those rolling hills and sweet fresh air, for the never ending supply of pipeweed and good ale, for pulling fresh vegetables straight from the earth - and above all, he longed for his friends.
He wondered what Merry was up to, if Sam was getting by alright, what Frodo was doing in the Grey Havens, and how Aragorn's reign was going. He grieved his friends and his past life as if he would never see them again - because as far as he knew, he never would. And that was the hardest thing to accept.
Pippin often found himself unconsciously calling Merry's name, or opening his mouth to tell him something that happened during the day, only to remember that his friend was not here. There was no Merry to joke with, to play pranks with, to sing drinking songs with, to confide with, to laugh with.
Of course there were certain parts of this world that Pippin found to be quite fascinating and lovely. One thing he particularly enjoyed was the "shower", which was like summer rain but he could use a round lever to control the water's pressure and temperature. He felt like a god.
He had also grown quite fond of the magic cold box in the kitchen as well as the electric stove which made cooking so much easier and neater - no more straw or soot under his feet! It was quite strange to feel so clean all the time.
But even these wonderful new technologies were only another reminder to Pippin that he did not truly belong here.
Everything was so foreign, so new, so different from home. Pippin found himself constantly aching for the Shire, for any sliver of his present life to remind him of his past one.
But in this world the ale was too bitter, the air too stale, the pumpkins too small. The laughter of others was too rare, smiles were too strained.
It was strange - Pippin almost felt like Sauron's darkness had somehow made its way here, dark tendrils seeping into everything and squeezing the happiness away. The news he saw on the black rectangle - which was called a television - was always full of hatred, of despair, death, and destruction.
It seemed that this portion of Pippin's life was to be walked without the Shire and without all his closest friends. And he was not happy about it. He didn't know what he would do if Diamond hadn't been with him. Although they were grateful to be together, they mourned their life in the Shire and the people they had left behind.
And so Pippin and Diamond did everything they could to bring a bit of their home into this new world. They shoved as many plants as they could into the apartment, growing pots of herbs and carrots and potatoes. Diamond painted the walls with the rolling landscapes of the Shire, and Pippin framed photos of their friends that he had obtained from stills of the moving picture, whose characters bore a shocking resemblance to their counterparts in reality. He found it quite peculiar.
Yet all of this didn't seem to be enough. Pippin longed for the beautiful and the joyful, for even a shred of the Shire's wonder and contentment. He wanted to do something to bring a part of his home here, and to bring a bit of happiness to the world around him.
He just didn't know how.
It was Diamond who first brought up the suggestion of a shop. Why not open their own little shop here, she suggested. Something that carried their memories of Middle Earth and brought it to this world.
Pippin thought it was brilliant. And not just because the idea came from his wife. He knew immediately that they should open a food shop - food was one of the most important parts of Hobbit culture - and not just because they ate seven meals a day, but because food was always tied to family, friends, and memory. It was a form of celebration and comfort, an expression of love and kindness.
Now the question was - what kind of food?
Pippin dove deep into his brain to try and dig up something profoundly delicious that he could share with the people of this world but would also tie him to his home. A cool breeze rustled the trees in the courtyard, tossing a flat crisp leaf through an open window to settle calmly on the kitchen table where Pippin and Diamond were seated. The leaf was a brilliant red, the product of a new Autumn.
Pippin remembered that every year during Autumn the Shire would transform into a beautiful world of gold, red, and orange. The pumpkins would be fat and bursting with ripeness, the apples glossy and crisp. Bonfires would be started to keep warm in the colder months, filling the air with warm spicy smoke and the sound of crackling flames. The shadows would grow longer, the days shorter, and the breeze harsher.
Within these memories swirled the image of a food that forced its way into focus - a golden brown donut the size of a strawberry. It was nothing profound, nothing mind-blowing, but merely something that Pippin remembered to be quite popular in the Autumn months. Every memory that surfaced in association with those donuts was lovely and warm.
Pippin smiled and broke the quiet, his voice gently lined with excitement and joy. "You remember those donuts we would have in Autumn? Every time there was a festival or a celebration?"
A slow grin spread over Diamond's face. "Those little baby ones?"
"I could easily knock back two dozen before supper, and then another two dozen after!" Pippin grinned proudly. His soul was suddenly aching for those sweetly spiced donuts, delicately crispy on the outside and fluffy as a cloud on the inside which melted on his tongue.
The two fell into a contemplative quiet, both once again lost in nostalgia and memory. Those donuts, although being something simple, never failed to fill Pippin with joy, no matter how old he was or how his day had been - that was the beauty of it. A small, unassuming snack that left a lasting imprint.
Pippin knew they had to open a donut shop.
"But what shall we serve alongside the donuts?" Diamond wondered. "It doesn't quite feel complete without a drink or another type of accompaniment."
"Ale!" Was Pippin's immediate, instinctive response. But then he paused. There were already so many shops in Portland Oregon that served beer - Pippin wanted something more, something different.
Although ale was his favorite drink in the world, he wanted this shop to have a different feel - ale was the drink of celebration, of wide mouthed laughter and daring words, of unfettered joy and freedom. But Pippin wanted to serve something else, a drink that was more of a gentle warmth reminding people of better times, a drink that would induce sweet memories and could be enjoyed with friends over long lazy conversations about nothing and everything, a drink that captured the quiet simple contentment of the Shire and brought it here to this foreign world.
Diamond took a peek at his blue eyes and knew instantly what the solution was. "I still remember my grandmother's chai recipe. It originated from the east, and everyone who tries it absolutely loves it."
A smile spread over Pippin's face until he was beaming like a fresh sunflower. "Chai! Yes, I remember the taste of your chai. It has always made me feel warm and loved. It's perfect." Excitement started to crackle in Pippin's chest as an image of the shop slowly came into focus in his mind. "We will serve chai and those little donuts. It's perfect!"
It really was perfect. Pippin knew this combination was exactly what he needed to feel the gentle love of the Shire, and he knew it would (probably) provide some simple joy for the people of this place.
There was only one cautious doubt lingering in Pippin's mind - although he was personally confident in the deliciousness of those donuts and chai from the Shire, he wondered whether the people of this world would take to them well. What if they didn't like them? Then the business would be a flop!
So Pippin and Diamond decided to first conduct a little experiment on their neighbors, to see how they responded to the food.
Early one Saturday morning the two hobbits rose at the crack of dawn, when the sky was still cotton candy pink, and started preparing the donuts. Diamond busied herself mixing and brewing the chai as Pippin kneaded the soft dough and left it to rise. They cut out tiny rings and dropped them into hot bubbling oil until they were a deep golden brown. Some were tossed in a sweet mixture of cinnamon and sugar, some drizzled with fresh honey and flaky sea salt, and some smeared with a rich delicious spread Pippin had discovered called Nutella. He was convinced that this spread was filled with some sort of powerful magic which made it impossible for him to stop eating it.
The donuts were perfect - delicately crispy on the outside, cotton-y soft on the inside that melted on the tongue, and the perfect balance between sweetness and warming spice. Diamond ladled the steaming chai into several mugs that she arranged on a wooden tray.
Satisfied with their work, they delivered a small box of donuts and mug of chai to each neighbor who was home and willing to accept random food from people they barely knew.
The responses were overwhelmingly positive - both the donuts and tea were a huge hit with everyone! The neighbors were all incredibly complimentary, using words such as, "amazing", "best I've ever had", "mind-blowing", and even "life-changing"! Pippin thought their standards were quite low if donuts were capable of changing their life.
Pippin could feel his heart swelling with pride and anticipation. The experiment proved that a donut and chai shop was a great idea and would likely be a huge success.
Their vision set, Pippin and Diamond started gathering advice from friends and neighbors, and began the necessary legal process to open a shop here in Portland Oregon.
They acquired a lovely little location by a neighborhood surrounded with other small shops. It was quiet, it was cozy, it was perfect. Diamond enjoyed the fact that there was a graveyard close by - she liked the idea of ghosts being comforted by the smell of fried donuts and hot chai.
The name of the shop was Diamond's idea, really. Pippin originally wanted it to be something like "The Shire's Best Snacks", or "Yummy Hobbit Fare", but Diamond gently and firmly insisted that those ideas were no good. Too cheesy, she had said (and they weren't going to serve cheese).
Pip's Original Donuts and Chai - she declared.
"Pip's" was for Pippin, of course. "Donuts and chai", well that stated clearly what their little shop specialized in, so it would be easy for people to remember and spread the word. And "Original" added a feeling of novelty, uniqueness, and history. After all, they were going to be the world's very first donut and chai shop!
Not one to argue with his wife, Pippin heartily agreed. A feeling of pride and rich joy swelled warmly in his chest. He had always wanted something named after him. He felt like a god. The god of donuts and chai.
Several months passed, in which Pippin and Diamond busied themselves working on the shop. Wherever possible, they did everything themselves - Pippin wanted this place to feel as warm and cozy as possible, so everyone would know it represented family and home. The walls were painted, the signs created by local artists, the menus planned out with care. Diamond was in charge of the decor while Pippin figured out where to source supplies and ingredients.
The project gave Pippin a sense of purpose. For the first time since the quest and the War, he felt like he was part of something bigger, part of something that would make the world a better place. The thought that their little shop of donuts and chai could bring happiness to the people around them filled his blood with hot excitement. The potential joy generated from this place filled him from the tips of his ears down to his toes. He felt closer than ever to the Shire, to his home, to his friends.
There were many moments where Pippin caught himself thinking, Merry would love this place. His heart ached with a sharp pain that refused to be dulled, longing to see his friend and to share his joys and sorrows. But the grief for his past life only increased the wild determination racing through his veins - he knew this shop would be the connection back home to the Shire that he needed. It was the perfect vessel to bring Middle Earth into this world in an intimate (and delicious) way.
The day finally came where the shop was ready to be introduced to the public - ready to share its memory-laden food with anyone willing to receive it (and anyone willing to pay money of course). Pippin and Diamond had been bubbling with nervous excitement all week, uncertain about how their shop would be received.
They needn't have worried.
Word spread quickly of this quiet shop specializing in delicious donuts and chai that had the strange power of warming the soul and drawing out smiles. From the first day of opening and on, the shop was always full of customers no matter what time of day, sometimes lining up down the block, all eager to fill their bellies and souls with the whispers of the Shire.
Of course, no one knew the food (and its owners) originated from the fantastical land of Middle Earth - they only knew that this was a family run shop, with secret family recipes. No one knew that every bite and every sip paid homage to the ghosts of Pippin's past, and transported them to the rolling hills of the Shire.
The donuts were sweet, the chai spicy, the smiles genuine.
Yet for some reason, Pippin found himself not completely satisfied. He felt like something was missing, like a part of him was resisting the life he had built here, the decision to open this donuts and chai shop for the people of Portland Oregon. He wasn't sure where this feeling originated from and what to deal with the occasional nagging discomfort.
The late morning sun streamed in through the windows and bathed the shop in a soft creamy light, reminiscent of the way Pippin's hobbit hole would be lit in early spring. Pippin was behind the counter taking orders, his voice casual and his smile bright, but he took the opportunity of a slight lull in business to quietly observe the scene around him. Something unpleasant started to rise up from his toes, something he didn't realize was still in him - the soft manipulative tendrils of doubt.
As Pippin stood quietly behind the counter watching customers laughing with cinnamon sugar on their lips and spiced chai warming their bellies, the Took blood in his veins fluttered uncomfortably.
He suddenly felt a strong and uncomfortable nagging, as if part of him was insisting urgently, this is not enough, this is not how a Took should be living out his life.
He was Peregrin Took, for goodness sake!
A Took should always have one foot in the door of adventure, toes dipped in uncertainty and unpredictability, with blood hot and ready to face danger. They should be more ambitious, less content like other hobbits to accept a slow and simple life. Being magically transported here to this strange foreign world should have been exciting - should have been an opportunity for him to embrace new adventures and take daring risks.
Pippin bit his lip. Where was the glory and adventure in settling down to open this small random shop offering donuts and chai? There was absolutely nothing bold about it! It was the blatant embrace of predictability and the rejection of blood rushing excitement.
It was not important enough.
There was a part of Pippin that always wanted to do something big with his life - and after the Quest, after he had returned home in one piece he thought his courage was finally ripe enough for him to snatch up the opportunity and start a grand new chapter of his life. But this… was it anything truly worthwhile? Was it leaving any sort of lasting mark on the world?
The soft sizzle of oil pulled Pippin back to reality and he inhaled a deep breath full of honey and nutmeg. The quiet chatter of the shop flooded his ears and he watched as a figure stepped through the shop door, the initial uncertainty on their face instantly washed away with delight as they breathed in the warm spices in the air.
They approached the counter with a bit of hesitation, eyes flickering between the menu on the wall and the small machine behind the counter rolling out perfectly fried baby donuts. Pippin broke into a wide welcoming smile and waited patiently for them to make their choices.
He warmly took their order of six donuts and a cup of specialty chai, watching a satisfied expression of comfort and anticipation spread over the customer's face as they received their order, still hot with the scent of fresh spice.
In that moment, Pippin was suddenly overwhelmed with a growing feeling of affirmative purpose, a soft warmth spreading throughout his body and filling his soul.
No, this was the most important job in the world.
This place provided an oasis, the equivalent of receiving a comforting hug amidst busy and difficult lives. This shop used the simple pleasures of food and drink to lift the spirits of others and remind them of joyful memories.
It was a tiny beacon of rest. A place where friends could meet over delicious food and laugh with bellies and hearts full. It was a place where parents could take their children, who longed for the sweetness exploding on their tongues. It was a place for people to take a slow sip of tea and rest their weary minds for a moment, to take a step back and inhale deeply the scent of home and comfort.
Opening Pip's Original Donuts and Chai was something big - it was making a difference, and it was something to be proud of. Pippin smiled, his chest full with pride. His shop was bringing people together, was comforting them and filling them with delicious food. What more could he ask, really?
It encompassed everything the Shire was to Pippin, and was a way for him to stay connected to his home. Everything about the life he had built here in this world with Diamond was perfect, really.
Except for one thing that once again panged in Pippin's heart.
I wish Merry were here to see this. Pippin knew his friend would be incredibly proud of him.
He also knew that if Merry were here, they would have to double the amount of donuts produced every day.
He just wished he could share his joys and successes, and above all he wished he could see a familiar face again, hear a familiar voice that could tell him just how perfectly this shop had captured the spirit of the Shire.
A small crowd of customers entered the shop and lined up by the counter, eager to fill their bellies with donuts. Pippin took a few more orders and then paused, his head suddenly swarming with more ideas concerning decor and donut flavors - what about rotating flavors, based on seasonal ingredients?
Before the next customer could blurt out his order, Pippin apologetically grabbed a pad of paper to jot down a few notes. "Sorry, just one moment please, I will be right with you."
A soft pause, then, "Hey, Pip. You've been busy."
These few simple words, spoken from this newcomer, floored him.
Pippin froze at the sound of the voice, his heart suddenly pounding in his ears and his breath wobbling. His pen slipped from trembling fingers.
He didn't dare to hope or trust what he feared was simply his imagination.
He slowly raised his eyes.
Merry stared back at him, a brilliant smile on his face.