Yuletide Adventures and Mishaps
A harsh wind blew, nearly stealing Pippin's scarf clean off his neck. He grabbed it just as it was about to fly off and then wrapped it extra tight, tucking the ends under the top of his jacket. He rubbed his hands together and wished he'd dressed more appropriately for the trip. To his left sat his father, looking as jovial as always as he held the reins to the ponies leading their wagon. Pippin marveled at how the old hobbit managed to hold up so well after traveling for so long and then wondered whether it wasn't an act to cover up his discomfort.
"Do you want me to take over for a bit?" he said, turning to his father.
"What was that?" shouted Paladin, the wind apparently drowning out Pippin's question.
"Do you want me to take over?" said Pippin, now a bit more loudly. "It's getting chilly now. Do you want to go inside with the others?"
He gestured at the covered back part of the wagon, where the rest of their party was traveling, safely hidden from the elements.
"No, don't be silly, boy!" laughed Paladin. "What do you take me for, a geriatric? I can barely feel the cold!"
Pippin rolled his eyes at his father's bravado.
"I know you just want to drive and look like you're in charge," continued Paladin, much to Pippin's chagrin. "Don't worry, you'll have your chance on the way back. Since your mother won't be around, I'll be able to drink all I want so you'll have no choice!"
Pippin couldn't help but chuckle at this last note, though he still worried that his father was putting on a show. But he also knew it was futile to argue with him when he got like this. All he could do was read the map and signs so they'd get to Long Cleeve in one piece. Which, in all honesty, was easier said than done. The map was quite ancient and hard to read with tiny spidery handwriting, and the signs that weren't faded were fairly confusing and even somewhat misleading.
"I could have swore that last sign said we were two miles away from Long Cleeve," he said as he squinted at the map. "But it's been nearly an hour since and everything still looks the same."
Suddenly a head popped out of the canvas entrance.
"I can help you with that map if you'd like, Mr. Pippin," said Samwise Gamgee, who wasn't used to being a passenger.
"No thank you, Sam, I think I can manage on my own," said Pippin. "Why don't you sit back down? I imagine Priscilla and Jerry miss your stories already."
Sam shrugged and disappeared as suddenly as he'd appeared. Pippin's niece and nephew had become rather taken with the gardener and his colorful poems and stories over the duration of the trip. Their parents were grateful for the break from entertaining them and spent the majority of the journey napping, as did Frodo and the youngest Took, Laila. Pervinca listened to Sam's stories eagerly as well, but couldn't keep from missing her mother and other sister. Eglantine had decided to stay at Great Smials with Pimpernel, Barty, and the new baby. It made sense, but it was strange to have the family so divided at Yule.
This thought rested on Pippin's mind as well, but he was mostly excited to be visiting the strange region. Though he'd traveled there at least once as a boy, it had been quite some time ago and he barely remembered anything. And so now he anxiously looked at their surroundings to gauge how close they were to their destination. It was a trying task making out where they were; everything looked so similar. They hadn't quite reached the North Moors, but they were close enough that the region was drastically different from the the parts of the Shire with which he was most familiar. The land was a good deal flatter, for one thing, and there was a paucity of trees. The trees he did see, however, were strikingly different: tall, thin pines with peculiar needles instead of leaves. Even the grass seemed somehow different. He wondered what it would feel like under his feet.
As his mind wandered, his eye suddenly focused on an encouraging sight: a large, freshly painted sign that read "VILLAGE OF LONG CLEEVE: STRAIGHT AHEAD".
"I think we're here!" he exclaimed, as he jumped up in his seat to get a better look. The ponies whinnied nervously and he quickly sat back down. However, his shout hadn't gone unnoticed and soon the younger Tooks were poking their heads through the canvas to see for themselves.
Fortunately the sign was the first honest one they'd seen in several hours and within minutes they were riding through the town's main street. Local hobbits stared at them and said nothing, though Paladin waved with his free hand. The silence and the stares felt peculiar and even a bit disconcerting, but before anyone could think too much of the locals' manners, a familiar face darted up to them waving.
"Hullo there! Stop and let me on!" said Drufo as he jogged alongside the wagon. Paladin slowed down and allowed the boy to climb in.
"Good to see you again, Drufo," said Pippin patting him on the back. "You look taller, have you grown?"
"Hardly!" said Drufo with a laugh. "But it doesn't matter; let's get to our Great Smials so you can all settle in. I reckon the other guests will be getting here soon, too."
And so with Drufo's directions they drove the rest of the way to the Northern Tooks' dwelling with ease. Great Northern Smials, as the place was called, looked just as large and magnificent as the Great Smials where Pippin and his family stayed. Here, however, the architecture was slightly different (a bit more pragmatic in design and less whimsical) and the vegetation was as well, of course. An older lad came up to greet them, and once they'd emptied out of the wagon with their things, he climbed aboard and drove it off to the stables.
"Now follow me," said Drufo as he headed up the cobbled path to the grand entrance. "Mum and Dad will probably be waiting. They'll want to say 'hello' before you're shown to your rooms."
Pippin didn't look forward to this meeting, but he put on a brave face for the rest of his clan, who all seemed relatively eager to meet their hosts, albeit tired from the ride up. He swallowed as they crossed into the hallway, which was narrower than the one at Great Smials but with a higher ceiling. As if on cue, Bandogrim and Delilah stepped out of a side door and approached their guests with bright unnerving smiles plastered on their faces.
"Welcome to our humble abode!" said Bandogrim, shaking Paladin's hand. "We'd love to give you a tour, but I'm afraid there's just so much to see to at the moment. You'll have to settle for my son as your tour guide instead."
And after shaking a few more hands and wishing them a pleasant stay, the two hurried off to go bark orders at the servants. The Southern company exchanged a few surprised looks but didn't linger long in the hallway, as Drufo was already scampering off to show them to their rooms.
It took some time to maneuver the entire labyrinthine estate, but at last nearly everyone had been settled into their rooms, and now the only one left was Pippin. Drufo actually had had to lead him out of the main smials and through a surprisingly heavily wooded area where a few cabins were grouped together.
"Normally we have enough room for everyone inside, what with it being so big," said Drufo as he unlocked the door. "But we don't usually have so many guests from all different farthings and especially not for Yule, so Dad said to put you and a few of your friends in here."
"And of course your father makes sure I'm as far away from everyone as possible," said Pippin with a small, wry smile as he entered the space and put his luggage down. To be fair, it was large and nicely furnished; very comfortable indeed. But it was a wooden cabin, not a cozy hobbit hole, and quite out of the way from things.
"Oh, there are worse places he could have put you, believe me!" said Drufo. "Matter of fact, I wouldn't mind switching places with you."
"What's wrong with your room?" Pippin refused to believe the boy's overprotective parents could shelter him in anything but the most cushioned and comfortable room old money could afford.
"Well, it's next to my sister, isn't it?" said Drufo, rolling his eyes.
"I doubt we could switch places then," said Pippin, suppressing a laugh. "It would defeat the purpose."
"What purpose?" said Drufo, not quite catching the drift.
"Never mind," said Pippin shaking his head. "I'll tell you when you're a tween."
Drufo cocked an eyebrow at him, but then shrugged and started to head out the door. "Dad wanted me to keep greeting guests so I guess I'd better head back, but I'll see you at dinner."
Pippin's ears perked up at the last part. "Dinner, you say? When is that, by the way?"
"Not for another hour, I'd guess," said Drufo as he edged out. "Goodbye!"
Pippin frowned as he was now left completely alone. It was actually somewhat surprising that he was so very alone, given certain people's tendencies to hop up on him at the oddest moments. He turned around quickly to see that there wasn't any leering face hovering behind him, only to foolishly meet the thin air.
"Well, I suppose there's only one thing left to do at a time like this," he said to himself in a determined tone as he raised his clenched fist dramatically.
Then he quickly closed the door and went into the cabin's den, where he dropped onto the couch and began to nap.
"I'm rather sure he's waking up now. Or having a violent nightmare. Either way, he's fidgeting quite a bit."
"No, no, he's always like that when he sleeps. Just leave him alone and focus on the game."
"All right, now his eyes are half-open. Don't try and tell me he's still asleep."
"You know wizards sleep with their eyes open."
"No, they don't!"
"They do! Frodo told me."
"Well, Pippin is hardly a wizard. Anyway, it's your turn."
"'Urgh' is not a word."
"Yes, it is. You've said it before yourself!"
Pippin took a deep breath before sitting up blearily to meet the sight of Merry and Fatty sitting at a table playing a board game. It took him a few seconds to remember that he was at Long Cleeve and they were rooming with him apparently.
"Well, look who's finally awake," said Merry without looking away from the game. "And just because I've made a certain sound before doesn't make it a real word."
"Good morning, Pippin. Well, evening. What do you think? Does 'urgh' count as a word?" said Fatty, turning to him.
Still a bit discombobulated from his nap (and also shockingly hungry), Pippin couldn't do more than rub his eyes and make an odd guttural half-sigh half-groan.
"See, that's a sound people make," said Merry pointing at Pippin. "That doesn't qualify it as a word."
"Hardly the same!" scoffed Fatty.
"How long have you two been here?" said Pippin finally. "And how long have I been asleep?"
"We arrived shortly after you did and you've been asleep since before that," said Merry. "So roughly five hours."
"Five hours?" gasped Pippin.
"Mhm," nodded Fatty. "You managed to miss both dinner and supper. Terribly unfortunate!"
"No wonder my stomach is grumbling so terribly!" said Pippin, clutching his belly. "And did no one think to wake me up?"
"Oh, we tried," said Merry. "You were impossible. Slept through everything."
"We slammed quite a few pots and pans and even threw water on you," said Fatty with a shrug. Pippin glared at him, but when he felt his hair it was as dry as if nothing had ever happened.
"You see? That's how long you were asleep!" said Fatty, following Pippin's thought process.
"It's too bad. You were sorely missed at the table," said Merry. Pippin arched an eyebrow at this.
"By whom?" he said in what he hoped was a casual tone.
"Well, we missed you, of course," said Merry. "But there were others."
"Are you being vague on purpose?" said Pippin.
"Would I be vague in any other way?" said Merry with a grin. Pippin sighed and turned to Fatty but he could only shrug sheepishly.
"I wasn't really paying attention, I was preoccupied with the food, you know," he said. "It was very good, by the way."
"And I don't suppose either of you saved anything for me?" said Pippin, folding his arms. Merry and Fatty looked at each for a moment with matching grimaces.
"I'm afraid there wasn't anything left to save, Pip," said Merry earnestly. "Sorry!"
"So what then? Am I to starve while you two bicker over your game?" Craning his neck to see what it was, he went on, "Where did you even find that?"
"It was in the closet with the pots and pans! We started playing after we gave up on you!" said Fatty defensively.
"Anyway, you don't have to starve," said Merry. "I think if you go to the kitchen and ask around, someone might make you something. The servants aren't quite as prickly as their masters."
"Now you're being helpful!" said Pippin brightly as he stood up and began to head for the exit. "I'll see you chaps later! And by the way, Merry, I'm with Fatty on 'urgh.' Goodbye!"
With that, he disappeared through the door and Merry 'accidentally' hit the board with his foot, causing all the letter squares to shift irreparably.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" said Fatty, glaring.
"Like I said before, would I do it any other way?" said Merry, grinning once again.
It was a small miracle that Pippin managed to maneuver through the dark grounds and made it to the main estate with little trouble beyond the unShire-like temperature. It had been several hours since he'd followed Drufo to his cabin and he hadn't very attentive at the time. But luckily for him, he stepped into the main hall in one frosty but unharmed piece.
However, as he looked around, he realized nearly all the lights were out save for the occasional lantern, and there was no one around to ask for directions to the kitchen. He found it strange that everyone would be in bed already; back home in Tuckborough people always seemed to stay up at night, especially around holidays. Now as he wandered down the corridor in the dim light, he couldn't help but feel uneasy and wondered whether his hunger was worth the creepy trip.
"Now that's a silly thought," he suddenly said out loud. "Of course it's worth it!"
Suddenly the floor creaked in a nearby room, and after feeling his heart jump into his throat, he wondered why he ever spoke to himself when he was alone. Then he remembered he was looking for a person to ask for directions to the kitchen and felt very silly. He pushed the door open and stepped into the room... which, as luck would have it, turned out to be the kitchen. Except that it looked utterly empty.
"That's strange," he muttered quietly. Then in a loud but hesitant voice, he called out, "Hello? Is there anyone here?"
There came no response. He gulped but continued to wander further into the kitchen. The counters and tables were all impeccably clean, and if he didn't know that Merry and Fatty had been fed hours before, he'd have thought the place hadn't been used at all. The cold moonlight streaming in through the windows on the left gave everything a hard shadow and overall added to the eerie effect.
"Hello?" he called out once more. Still nothing.
He was about to turn around and head back to the cabin in defeat when he heard the floor creak yet again. He jumped and spun around but there was no one there.
"Come on," he said shakily. "I know there's someone there!"
He swallowed as he came deeper into the kitchen, almost to the very end, and was unnerved at how pitch black it was. The moonlight didn't reach it so the whole back area was drenched in darkness. He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a match. He struck it on the wall and now had himself a miniature torch with a very comforting warm glow. The little light it shed allowed him to see that there was another door at the back of the kitchen... and it was slightly ajar.
Did he dare trespass further and find out who or what was waiting in there? He took a deep if unsteady breath and decided he had come too far to give up now. He came up to the door and slowly pulled it open.
"Who's in there?" he said stepping in and holding the match out. He half expected some terrible ghoul to fly out and attack him. Instead he was met with a high girlish shriek and was attacked by a flying roll of bread.
"Ack!" cried Pippin as he dropped his match, losing what little light he had left and now finding himself fully enveloped in darkness.
"Who's there?" came a shrill and panicked voice from the other side of the pantry.
"Peregrin Took! I'm visiting from Tuckborough!" sputtered Pippin as he fumbled around in his jacket looking for another match. He hoped whomever he'd walked in on wouldn't get him in trouble with the head of the household.
"Pippin?" came the increasingly familiar sounding voice. "Is that you?"
"Yes? Who's that?" he said as he tried to strike match after match to no avail.
"It's me!"
"I don't know who you are!"
Finally he managed to get one to light and found that none other than Mundee was standing inches away from him.
"I think you do!" she said with a saucy smirk.
"Oh! It's you! Hello!" exclaimed Pippin, feeling very stupid. Mundee laughed and lunged at him, tackling him into a hug. Pippin awkwardly tried to keep the match aloft while being assaulted.
"Careful! This is my last match!"
"Oh, sorry!" she said, pulling back and letting him get his bearings.
"Why did you throw bread at me?" he said as he handed the roll back to her. She took it with a rightfully embarrassed expression.
"I, er... I was surprised, that's all," she said, now blushing something terrible. Pippin grinned when he realized what this really meant.
"You were frightened! Of me, of all people?" he laughed.
"I didn't know it was you!" said Mundee angrily. "You looked strange in the light and your hair is all different."
"Oh, right," said Pippin feeling his cropped coif. "Pervinca deemed it too long last month and made it her duty to cut it."
Mundee snickered, imagining the sight of Pippin's small but spunky sister launching herself at him with a pair of shears.
"So why are you here? It's the middle of the night," said Mundee with her hands on her hips.
"Well, first of all, it's really not the middle of the night and I can't understand why you North Tooks go to bed so early," said Pippin. "And second, the last time I ate was when we stopped to have tea before we arrived here. That was roughly at four o'clock. What's your excuse?"
"No excuse, you caught me!" laughed Mundee, hiding her face in her hands. Then lifting her head, she added, "I won't tell if you won't."
"Now, who in the world would I tell?" said Pippin with a faux-innocent smile.
"Better question is, what are you in the mood for?" said Mundee, gesturing at the pantry shelves surrounding them.
Two apples, four slices of cheese, three sausages, and several rolls of bread with butter later, Mundee and Pippin were sitting on the furthest wall of the pantry feeling thoroughly satisfied.
"I don't think I could have another bite," moaned Mundee.
"I could!" said Pippin. But then after a rather noxious belch, he decided against it. "That was good."
"It was, but supper was better!" said Mundee. "It's too bad you missed it; Daddy was being downright cheerful for once."
"I'm not there and your father is cheerful, what a surprise," said Pippin sarcastically. Mundee rolled her eyes.
"Oh, don't be like that. You know, the world doesn't revolve around you," she said.
"Why is it so impossible to believe your father hates me?" said Pippin.
"I don't know if you've noticed but he's not exactly the most pleasant hobbit in the Shire," said Mundee with a pointed look. "If he does hate you, he doesn't hate you any more or less than he hates most people."
"What will it take to convince you otherwise?"
"A direct threat?"
"Wonderful. I will certainly look forward to that." Pippin slumped down, his head coming down to Mundee's level.
"Cheer up, sourpuss," she said, nudging him with her shoulder. "The next few days will be fun. I heard tomorrow you're all going hunting on the moor."
"Oh, well, that might be nice," said Pippin, giving it some thought.
"Yes, well, you should probably go rest up then, shouldn't you?" said Mundee as she stood up and pulled him to his feet. "Early day and all that."
"I suppose so..." said Pippin, suddenly overcome with a desire to stay right where he was.
"Do you need help finding your way?" asked Mundee, sensing that there was something holding him back.
"No, I think I remember the way I came," said Pippin as he slowly shuffled out of the pantry.
"Would you like me to walk back with you anyway?" said Mundee, sidling up next to him.
After a loud and exaggerated sigh, Pippin smiled and said, "Oh, if you insist."
Mundee rolled her eyes and, taking him by the hand, began to drag him along.
As they walked through the windy woods between the smials and the cabins, they passed the time by catching up on all their adventures since Frodo's party in September. Pippin told Mundee about the excitement over the new baby, whom Pimpernel and Barty had decided to call "Jenny" after Barty's grandmother Jessamine, and she told him about the strange creatures she'd seen passing through the moor when she went camping with Molly and Drufo one night.
"They can't be real. Are you sure you didn't dream that whole thing up?" said Pippin, wrinkling his brow.
"I swear! Look, I'll just have to bring you along one day to see for yourself," said Mundee.
Pippin chortled and shook his head, but then stopped abruptly as he realized they were basically at the cabins.
"Well, this is it," he said gesturing awkwardly.
"Right then," said Mundee with a nod as she appraised his cabin. "Are you alone in there?"
"What?" sputtered Pippin, a bit taken aback at the peculiar question. "Er, no, Merry and Fatty are sharing the house with me."
"That's what I thought," said Mundee with an odd smile as she approached the little building. "Do you think Merry is still up?"
Pippin frowned; he didn't like where this was heading one bit. He quickly rushed up in front of her and blocked the way.
"I hardly think so," he said. "It's very late, you know. You should go to sleep, too."
"Hmm, that sounds a bit like the opposite of what you were saying back in the pantry," said Mundee, odd smile still firmly in place. Now Pippin furrowed his brow.
"I'm serious, though, you'll wake them up," he said, pushing her away from a window. "Get going!"
"You're telling me what to do in my home?" laughed Mundee as she danced out of his grip to go peer in another window. "Anyway, you don't know that Merry would actually mind me waking him up."
"Come on, cut it out!" hissed Pippin. "If you don't stop it, I'll..."
"You'll what, exactly?" said Mundee saucily. Pippin had to stop and think of something that could hold some power over her, but then it came to him.
"I'll make sure you don't get invited to any more of our parties," he said, folding his arms.
"You can't do that," she said. Her grin was still confident, but her faltering tone spoke otherwise.
"Do you really want to risk it?" he said firmly. Mundee stared at him defiantly, but he stared her back down and at last she sighed.
"Oh, you're no fun," she said, waving at him dismissively. "But one thing before I go."
"Just one thing? Not forty?" said Pippin, raising a finger as well as an eyebrow. Mundee snorted at his sarcasm, but then suddenly grabbed at his hands. He held down a gasp while she scrutinized them closely.
"Looks like they healed well," she said, returning his hands to him after a moment. Sensing that he was extremely confused, she added, "After Frodo's party? The blisters?"
"Oh! Right!" said Pippin as the realization dawned. "Yes, they healed quickly."
"Have you played at all since then?" said Mundee. "Or are you worried you'll get hurt again?"
Her voice was now cracking slightly, as if she was desperately holding back laughter. But Pippin thought nothing of it, assuming that she was still in her strange overly excited mood.
"No, I've actually been practicing a lot more since then."
Mundee looked at him expectantly now, but he merely continued his thought and walked into a terrible punchline.
"I can last much longer now."
"WELL, IS THAT SO!" shouted Mundee before erupting into giggles.
It took Pippin a little while to digest the meaning of her laughter. But when he got it, he turned a most vibrant shade of crimson.
"Good night then!" sang Mundee as she skipped away.
Pippin shook his head and entered the cabin, only to find a half-asleep and irritated Merry standing in front of him.
"Took you long enough," muttered Merry. "What was that all about?"
"So you heard all of that, did you?" said Pippin. Merry nodded curtly, apparently very unimpressed.
"Well, er... sorry about that," said Pippin scratching the back of his head. "I think I was the butt of an elaborate joke just now."
"You can tell me all about it tomorrow," said Merry. "Now go to sleep."
He started to plod back to his room, but then stopped and turned around to add, "By the way, there were only two bedrooms, so you'll have to sleep on the couch."
"And of course they send me on a trip so they can claim the beds for themselves," grumbled Pippin as he settled onto the couch. He was beginning to feel as if everyone was conspiring against him. And so while pondering the many people apparently out to get him, Pippin dozed off once again.
The next day began with an early rise and a quick breakfast (by hobbit standards, anyway). By 7 in the morning, the sun finally rose and the troop of male hobbits had already trekked well onto the North Moors. Pippin was still groggy, but at least he was sufficiently warm, having put on as many layers as he had packed. It made movement a little less than ideal for hunting, but he wasn't counting on making much of a mark that day regardless. Now he waddled next to his father, who was not quite as bundled up and found the sight rather comical.
"Your mother would be so proud if she saw you now," said Paladin. "But I tell you what: if you fall down and can't get up, don't expect me to wait for you."
Pippin tried to make a witty retort, but only managed to half-groan half-whine in response. In front of them, Fatty was having a similar rough time of the trip. He was both overdressed and overweight, which made the long walk all the more torturous. His father wasn't one to miss a chance to tease his boy either.
"Come now, lad, this is nothing!" laughed Odovacar. "This is but a pleasure stroll compared to the journeys I used to take back when I was courting your mother. Why, I tell you, back in those days..."
As the elder Bolger drifted off into a long stream of consciousness ramble about the past, Fatty said nothing but glanced back at Pippin to shoot him a "kill me please" look. Pippin responded by yawning through his scarf, which he had wrapped nearly all the way up to his nose.
However, when Paladin and Odovacar had to stop and rest due to creaking joints and heart palpitations an hour later, Pippin and Fatty chose the high road and did not mock or leave their fathers. Despite their concern, the old hobbits insisted that they were fine and encouraged their sons to head off without them.
"What do we need you hanging around and nursing us for anyway?" said Paladin as he shooed Pippin away. "Can't even take care of yourselves; big lot of help you'll be here!"
"Go on now, lads," said Odovacar more gently. "We shall catch up with you later. Just need a bit of rest now, that's all."
And so Pippin and Fatty followed their fathers' instructions and left them alone, sitting comfortably on a log and smoking their pipes.
"Wish I were that rheumy and creaky," muttered Pippin. "Then I could sit around smoking all day, too."
"Our sisters have it the best, though," grumbled Fatty. "Sitting around inside all warm, doing nothing but relaxing all day."
As they trudged through the cold and the wind to catch up to their friends, who were now quite ahead of them, they had no idea of the dull drudgery the ladies were actually suffering.
"Diamond, how is your needlepoint coming along?"
"Er... not bad, I suppose. Almost done actually. Mum, could I go-"
"Molly dear, what do you think of your cousin's work?"
"It's very nice, but the colors are giving me a headache."
"There. Now that's hardly finished, isn't it? You'd better see that you fix it."
Mundee glared at her cousin, whose mother wasn't in the room and forcing her to take up her least favorite activity. Molly was happily sitting next to her, doodling in her sketch book. For her lack of wits and tact, she had the gift of artistry, at least. Mundee had none of her skill and was growing more and more frustrated by the atrocious state of her own project. What was supposed to be an image of a quaint springtime scene instead looked like a gory massacre.
Unfortunately Mundee wasn't the only one going out of her mind. Pervinca stared at the clock on the mantel waiting for it to be any sort of mealtime so she could escape the quilt-making she'd been roped into by her sister and aunt.
Meanwhile Estella was reading a book... or at least trying to. It was difficult staying focused with all the sighs and coughs and short bursts of chatter; she seemed to keep reading the same sentence over and over again.
Pearl and Esmeralda Brandybuck were taking turns chiding Pervinca for not focusing on their quilt. They'd made nearly five patches each already and she was still stuck on the first one.
The only visiting lady that seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself was Rosamunda Bolger. She was having an easier time of her light reading than her daughter, and would titter and fan herself every few pages.
Mundee was beginning to consider "accidentally" pricking herself in an effort to escape, when there suddenly came the strangest interruption. A small flour-covered figure suddenly appeared in the doorway, drawing everyone's attention.
"Priscilla Hornblower, what in the world have you done?" gasped Pearl as she leapt up to examine her oldest daughter.
"Mummy, it's really actually quite a funny story, actually..." said Priscilla, as she squirmed under her mother's prodding.
"Moreover, where are your brother and sister?" said Pearl, as she realized the possible danger of the situation.
"That's mostly why I came to find you..." said the little girl hesitantly. "See, Jerry thought it would be good fun if we played hide and seek in the pantry..."
At this point it wasn't clear who had gone paler, Pearl or Mundee's mother. But all of the older women jumped up and rushed out of the room to help sort out the mess in what was definitely a swifter motion than one would expect. The remaining ladies stared at the very suddenly empty doorway in a collective daze.
But then with a laugh, Mundee put down her hideous project and stood up to stretch.
"Well, bless those curious kids! They'll keep my mum busy for hours, I'm sure!" she exclaimed. Estella looked at her askance.
"Aren't you concerned at all?" she said as she continued to pretend to read.
"Not really," said Mundee as she strode over to the nearest window and peeked out. "My mum's handled worse messes before."
"You would know!" said Molly cheerfully, to which Mundee responded with a loud raspberry.
"I meant about the children," said Estella, rolling her eyes. "They could be hurt."
"Nah," said Pervinca as she shoved the bothersome quilt off her lap and onto the floor. "I know my niece and she's not one for subtlety. If there had been any real danger, she'd have been in hysterics."
"That's a relief, I suppose," said Estella finally putting her book down. "But don't you think we should help?"
"Three kids, one big mess," said Pervinca, counting off on her fingers. "I think four competent women should be able to handle it."
Then she stood up and strolled over to the window to join Mundee.
"So what do you normally do for fun around here?" she said. "Because something tells me needlepoint and crafts aren't really a regular occurrence."
In all honesty, on any other day Mundee would have been outside skirting chores and lessons while exploring the countryside or trying to find mischief, but she rather figured this wasn't an option this time. If she had to entertain her guests now, she'd have to find something to keep everyone entertained.
All three ladies gazed up at her expectantly, although Estella seemed more nervous than hopeful. This wasn't going to be an easy task.
"Oh, I don't know. There are so many options..." said Mundee as she wandered over to a cabinet. She started going through the drawers, hoping to find something that would solve her dilemma. "So many adventures and possibilities to choose from..."
Then suddenly she found the answer.
"But I think you all might like this." Then with a flashy gesture, she pulled out an old deck of playing cards. "How about a game?"
Molly and Pervinca's faces instantly lit up with excitement. Estella appeared to have reservations, but then shrugged off her doubts, physically as well as figuratively.
"I suppose we could try it out," she said as she put her book away. "There's nothing to lose, anyway."
"That's the spirit, Esmella!" blurted out Mundee as she began to shuffle the cards quickly. Estella shot her a nasty look, but otherwise ignored the comment.
And without further ado, the girls launched into their game, a variation on an old Shire classic. Their dull morning shattered, the rest of the day could only prove to grow exponentially more interesting.
A dense fog rolled onto the moor and the hunting party separated into sub-groups without realizing it. Most of the hardier and younger North Tooks were up in the front, while the older ones trod behind them. Drufo ran around in circles, pestering his older cousins, while his father and Saradoc Brandybuck went along at their pace, apparently deep in discussion. The rest of the Southern visitors were all trudging far behind. They hardly spoke, for Pippin and Fatty were still cold and groggy, Frodo was too busy being wary of the environment, and Merry was keeping an eye on Frodo, as his behavior was worrying him. Only Sam could talk, for he was overcome with excitement at being in such a foreign part of the Shire.
"Oh, Mister Frodo, do you think there's a chance we'll see one of those Tree Folk up here?" he gushed, remembering the story his cousin Hal had told him recently. "You remember my cousin Hal, don't you? Well, he went hunting up here not so long ago and he told me he saw a tree-man walking across the moor. Isn't that the queerest thing?"
"Oh, Sam, not you too!" cried Pippin. "Mun- I mean, a friend of mine spoke of seeing tree people too. But that sounds too preposterous. Don't you think so, Frodo?"
"What friend?" said Merry, giving Pippin a sly look. Before Pippin could bluster out a response, Frodo interrupted.
"I wouldn't discount it," he said. "These are strange times. But I fear we have fouler things to worry about than mythical Tree Folk as long as we wander the moor."
"What do you mean?" said Fatty with a frightened gulp.
"The North is a strange country," said Frodo, his voice faint and low. "Many travel across the lands, but there is only so much the Bounders can do. And with trouble brewing abroad as it is, I fear there are more than a few unwelcome and unsavory guests trespassing."
"But what does that mean? Who is trespassing?" whined Fatty, growing more and more hysterical.
"Wolves?" said Sam with some trepidation. "My grand-dad, Roper Gamgee, lived through the Fell Winter and he used to tell me such stories. Used to curl the hairs of my neck, they did."
"Wolves and worse," said Frodo even more quietly. Privately he thought of the stories of wights and orcs and foul men and the horrid things from Angmar. Bilbo knew how to tell good stories, even if they weren't perfectly appropriate for a little boy at bedtime. But now he looked at his friends and could tell he'd frightened them out of their wits and regretted bringing up the topic. In all honesty he doubted any real danger would befall them today; and even if anything were to happen, they were such a large and well armed group that they could certainly take care of themselves.
"Oh, but look at you all, shaking from fright!" he said with a laugh, shifting gears quite dramatically. "I have gone and said too much. I have ruined your hunt!"
"If we're shaking, it's only from the cold!" said Pippin defensively, not wanting to appear afraid. He was a little unnerved by Frodo's talk, but it was mostly the way his friend seemed so distant throughout it all. He'd seemed as if he wasn't there with him, but standing on a tall hill, his eyes peering past the borders of their land and gazing into far and eldrich parts of the world. He looked over at Merry and could see he felt the same way.
"If you lot keep telling all these nursery tales, we shall never catch anything today!" said Merry jokingly. The others laughed appreciatively and the mood seemed to lift almost immediately.
Sam turned to Frodo and quietly said, "But the Tree Folk, Mister Frodo; do you think they're real? Honest now."
Frodo smiled and shrugged. "To tell you the truth, I don't know. But I think anything is possible."
Sam said nothing, but his eyes shined with hope and he held his head high as he walked along. Fatty, however, was not completely satisfied and still peevish about having to go on the hunt in the first place.
"Do you even know what we're hunting for?" he said, turning to Pippin.
"Why would I know?" said Pippin.
"Well, your... er, friend didn't tell you anything?" said Fatty in a very pointed way. Merry smirked as he listened in on the conversation.
"What friend? Fatty, speak plainly, would you!" Pippin snapped. "One friend speaking in riddles is enough!"
Fatty rolled his eyes. If he was being at all vague, it was only for Pippin's benefit.
"The little blonde one? With the freckles?" said Fatty, elbowing Pippin in the ribs. This seemed to clarify things a bit, as Pippin made a silent "oh" and grinned.
"No, no, she doesn't know anything, nor has she told me anything," he said much too quickly.
"Did you get to talk to her very long yesterday?" said Merry who was in the mood for tween teasing. "You were out for quite some time last night."
"No, not really-"
"What, our Peregrin walking about at night with young ladies... unchaperoned?" gasped Frodo in mock shock. "Why, you've changed so much in so short a time!"
"It wasn't like that!" squawked Pippin, his face reddening by the second.
"And don't think we didn't notice you two sneakin' off together at Mister Frodo's party," said Sam with a wink.
"The scandal!" said Fatty with a melodramatic flourish.
"That's not what- we weren't- there was a reason- oh!" Pippin had grown too flustered of all the teasing and stopped walking.
"That's it, I'm going to go find my father!" he suddenly exclaimed.
"And tattle on us?" chortled Merry.
"No..." said Pippin slowly, realizing how childish he seemed right now. Then he came up with a proper excuse (and a good idea, what's more). "He has been hanging back for too long and I want to see if he needs me."
The others seemed to acknowledge that this was fairly responsible of him and he'd started heading back, when there suddenly came a loud whistle. He stopped and turned around to see a sight more horrifying than any wolf or ghost: Bandogrim Took was waving at him to come join him, a most hideous smile spread across his face.
"Peregrin, lad, come join me up front!" he called out.
Pippin turned quite pale and barely managed to utter a response. "N-no thanks, sir, I'm quite all right back here!"
"Nonsense, I need your help!" shouted Bandogrim. Pippin couldn't see from where he stood, but Bandogrim's face had twitched ever so slightly at that sentence.
"Go on, Pip," said Merry. "You do not want to insult your host."
As Pippin began to drag himself forward, thinking of an appropriate way to explain his need to seek out his father, Saradoc came bustling past him, heading in the opposite direction.
"You boys have a good time," he said to Pippin and the rest of the group. "This sport is doing quite a number on my joints. I'm going to join the other old badgers, as I should have from the start! Goodbye, lads!"
And without further ado, he disappeared into the fog, and along with him went Pippin's excuse. As he realized this in horror and disappointment, he came to find himself standing face to face with Mundee's father.
"There's a good fellow," said Bandogrim, the smile already waning. "I have a special mission for you. Follow me now."
As he veered off the trail and nearly out of sight, Pippin glanced back at his friends, a pleading expression on his face. They didn't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation and merely waved him on, grins and smirks all around. He frowned, thinking about all the ways to pay them back later.
But in the meantime, he had only one option. He took a mighty deep breath and followed Bandogrim into the thick wall of fog.
All previous excitement the girls had felt in the beginning of the game had washed away as Estella won for the umpteenth time.
"I'm telling you the honest truth: I have never played this game before!" Estella protested, as the others shot her dirty looks. "I can't help it if I'm naturally suited for it."
"And I can't help it if I'm dying of boredom," whined Molly. Then turning to Mundee, she went on, "Why can't we give up already?"
"Because I am the hostess and I am determined to show you all a good time," grumbled Mundee as she shuffled the cards. If she could keep three guests entertained long enough, perhaps that would show her mother she was mature enough that she didn't need to be watched during every activity. "Now we're going to keep playing and you're going to have fun, whether you like it or not!"
Molly sighed and gazed wistfully out the window. "But I want to go catch up to the lads and see how their hunt is going."
Mundee snorted. "Oh, you are certainly not leaving in that case."
Molly groaned and sagged dramatically in her seat, looking even more bored if that was possible. Pervinca, however, was finding her curiosity very piqued.
"Why do you want to see their hunt? Hunts are messy and unpleasant half the time, and duller than this the other half of the time."
"It's not the hunt she's interested in," said Mundee, rolling her eyes, as she dealt out the cards. "It's one of the hunters."
Molly gasped and smacked her cousin on the shoulder. Estella shook her head at the immaturity, but Pervinca was getting more and more intrigued.
"Is that so? Which hunter?" she said, leaning over to Molly, who only shook her head in response. Pervinca smirked as she suddenly developed a very devious idea.
"I know how to make our games more lively," she said. "Mundee, I'm feeling rather parched. What do you have to drink?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Mundee as she scrutinized her hand. "I'm sure there's water and juice in the kitchen, but I could probably have a servant bring some tea."
"That's not exactly what I had in mind," said Pervinca. "I was thinking of something a little more... bitter."
Mundee suddenly looked up, the gears in her head finally rolling into place. Estella, too, snapped up from her cards, except she seemed far less excited and a little horrified.
"Surely you're not suggesting-"
"I most certainly am," said Pervinca with a grin.
"You know what? That is a smashing idea!" exclaimed Mundee as she jumped up from her seat. "In fact," she went on in a hushed tone, "if you lot wait a minute, I think I can rustle something up. I'm fairly sure Daddy keeps a spare bottle of gin in the next room."
"Marvelous!" said Pervinca, clapping her hands.
Mundee dashed out of the room and Estella began to rub her temples.
"This is a bad idea," she said. "A very very BAD idea."
"I'm not allowed to drink gin," said Molly. "I'm not even allowed juice, most of the time. I'm told I act funny."
"Ah, don't worry, you'll be fine," said Pervinca, patting her on the head. "You'll be in safe company."
Molly bit her lip, plainly quite eager to try something so forbidden. Estella continued to mutter her disapproval, but did nothing to stop Mundee when she returned with a full bottle.
"Beautiful," said Pervinca, as Mundee placed the dark bottle in the center of the table.
"So what are the rules?" said Mundee as she took her seat again. "When do we drink?"
Pervinca took a moment to think this over. "How about when you lose, you take a small sip. And when you win, you take a big swig."
"We are all going to be sick by the end of this game," said Estella.
"I like it! Let's begin!" said Molly as she greedily grabbed at her cards.
Pervinca picked up her hand and smiled crookedly as she imagined how wickedly funny her plan would turn out in the end.
Pippin shuddered as he made his way through the moor, trying not to stay too close to Bandogrim, but neither wanting to fall too far behind and winding up lost. He grasped his bow a little too tight, his knuckles a painful shade of white. He wasn't much of a hunter, having gone on few trips in his short life. His father had taken him maybe twice and it had been in the peaceful and safe Green Hill Country. He'd also gone with his friends several times, but all those trips had ended with a lot of tomfoolery and jesting. He'd never felt there was any sort of real danger. But now his nerves were on fire. Possibly worse than the cold and the fog was the impenetrable silence. Though he didn't know if speaking would honestly be all that much better.
As he walked along, lost in his thoughts, the silence was finally broken by a whistle from Bandogrim and Pippin realized things were about to get a lot more awkward.
"Come here, boy," shouted the older hobbit. Pippin ran to catch up, though he wished he could dart off in the opposite direction.
"Y-yes, sir?" he wheezed out as he reached Bandogrim.
"We're getting close," grunted Bandogrim.
"Er, close to what?" said Pippin, scratching the back of his neck. "Where exactly are we going, sir?"
"There should be a bog nearby," said Bandogrim, pointing ahead with a knife. It was only now that Pippin realized that in addition to a bow, which everyone had brought, the older hobbit had brought several large knives and other frightening looking devices. Pippin didn't like the idea of going to a bog with anyone this well armed.
"And why are we going to a bog?" he said, his voice climbing several pitches. Bandogrim regarded him with more disdain than he'd ever seen in a look before.
"Because," he said slowly, "the thing we are hunting can most often be found by a bog."
"Oh. Right," said Pippin simply. He was scared to ask any more questions, but there were so many floating in his head. What were they hunting? Why had he chosen Pippin, of all people, to accompany him on this private hunt? Why had he equipped himself with so many weapons? And why in the world did he continue to gesticulate with that huge knife?
As he walked, still trying to maintain some distance between himself and the frightening older hobbit, Pippin began to notice the ground growing sort of more spongy. At last they were upon the bog and Bandogrim gestured for Pippin to stop.
"This is it," said Bandogrim in a gravelly low whisper. "Go sit behind that bush over there and don't make a sound."
Pippin did as he was told, but he found himself wondering over and over whether this wasn't an elaborate plan to push him in the bog.
"Why, oh, why did I not have Merry teach me how to swim?" he muttered as he made himself as comfortable as possible, crouching behind the oddly-shaped bush.
"Didn't I tell you to stay quiet?" hissed Bandogrim as he came up behind him. Pippin's heart nearly jumped into his throat. If Bandogrim was trying to give him a death of fright, he was more than halfway there.
"Sorry," he whispered. He took a deep breath and then braved another sound. "What are we looking for?"
"A snipe," said Bandogrim.
"Oh, right," said Pippin, as if that should have been obvious. "And they're in season now?"
Bandogrim glared at him. "Are you suggesting I don't know whether the bird I am hunting is in season? Do you think me a fool? That I don't know what I'm doing? Are you such a master that you know better than I?"
Pippin panicked, clearly saying the wrong thing. "No, no! Not at all! I was just making conversation!"
"Hunting isn't about making conversation," spat Bandogrim. "It is about being patient. It is about being smarter and stronger than your prey. It is the ultimate experience of any male's life. If you'd rather be off drinking tea and eating dainty sweets and making conversation, you can head back to the Smials and-"
"No, that's not what I meant!" cried Pippin.
"Then sit still and BE QUIET," said Bandogrim. Pippin took a shaky breath and forced himself to be still; if he hadn't been brought here to be executed, but to be tested, then nothing mattered more than to pass this test.
Several rounds and half a bottle of gin later, the girls were having a lovely time. They'd added more rules to the game, whereby every time you lost you had to share a secret. So far they'd learned that Pervinca's coming of age ball would have a fancy dress theme and that Mundee had a horrible phobia of child-birth.
"It's just so strange, though, innit?" she said as she put down her card, an eight of hearts. "And it seems so painful."
"Yer only sayin' that cuz you saw yer mum givin' birth to Drufo," slurred Molly, putting down her card, a queen of spades.
"Can't say I'm looking forward to it much myself, but I'm not really scared of it," said Pervinca with a shrug as she put down a six of clubs.
"I can see why it would be fruh... fri... scary," said Estella, her eyes unfocused as she slapped down a king of hearts. "Honestly I think it just depends on when you're prepuh... pre... pre... ready."
"Ooh, drat, looks like I lose again," said Pervinca before taking a sip. She cleared her throat and exhaled comically, causing her far more inebriated companions to giggle. "All right, time for a secret."
"Make it a good one!" shouted Mundee.
"I'm thinking, I'm thinking," said Pervinca, waving her off. "Well, to tell you the truth, I don't know if I'm ready to come of age."
"Why not?" said Estella. "I can't wait for mine. My party. S'going to be right good."
"Well, you're different than me, Estella," said Pervinca, shrugging. "You and Merry, you both have something and anyone that has eyes or ears can see that. I don't have anyone and frankly I'm not keen to find someone."
"Speaking of you and Merry, how is that going?" interrupted Mundee. "Because if you ever get sick of him..."
"Ha, ha," said Estella sarcastically. "Paws off."
"As I was saying," said Pervinca loudly. "I don't know, I just feel like everyone already wants me to settle down, but there's just so much I still want to do."
"Like wot?" said Molly. "Anyway, lads are great. I can't wait to come of age and get married. I'mma have a million babies."
"Sure you are," laughed Mundee. "With who?"
"Wouldn't you like to know!" said Molly, sticking her nose up in the air.
"I know who," said Mundee with a sneaky grin. She turned to Pervinca and continued, "She fancies your brother, she does."
"Does she?" said Pervinca, utterly surprised but even more utterly amused.
"Ooh, you shut yer mouth!" yelled Molly at Mundee as she began to playfully beat her, while Mundee hid under her raised arms.
"That's rather unexpected, t'say the least," chortled Estella. "I would have thought..." She pointed at Mundee and gave Pervinca a questioning look.
"Actually, so would I," said Pervinca in a fake loud whisper. Mundee stopped hiding to sit up and make a face.
"Eurgh, what? No no no, that's ridiculous," she said. "Why would you think that? Of all people!" Then turning to Pervinca, she quickly added, "No offense, but you know..."
"None taken," said Pervinca, laughing. "Though you do protest quite a bit. Makes one wonder."
"I'm telling you all, it's not like that!" said Mundee shrilly. "We're friends and we're a bit silly sometimes, but that's it."
"Fine, fine, we don't want to argue with you," said Pervinca, raising her arms up defensively.
"Anyway, I wouldn't dream of stealing him from Moooolly," crooned Mundee. Molly shoved her cousin's face away and turned bright red.
"Moving on," said Pervinca, ever the diplomat. "You know who hasn't shared a secret yet? Miss Bolger."
"That's because I keep winning," said Estella with a faux humble shrug. The other girls laughed and threw their cards at her.
A painfully long amount of time had gone by with neither Pippin nor Bandogrim saying anything. Pippin was finding it particularly uncomfortable and wished he could come up with a decent excuse to get away. He began to imagine fanciful scenarios where his friends dashed in dramatically and rescued him from the awkwardness. But of course that would never be the case; they were probably still laughing and carrying on at his expense.
At this thought, he sighed loudly without realizing it and instantly drew Bandogrim's attention. He met the scowl with a horrified, wide-eyed expression and began to stammer uncontrollably.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be so loud! Oh, I'm talking now! I didn't mean for that to happen either! I'm still talking, aren't I?"
He was shut up by Bandogrim's sudden hand covering his mouth. The older hobbit looked agitated, to say the least. Pippin hoped the inexplicable parade of words would go away when the hand was removed. Unfortunately this was not so.
"So Mundee doesn't like to talk about what you do for a living," he continued, without quite realizing what he was saying. "What exactly is it that you do?"
As soon as he finished uttering the words, he clapped his own hands over his mouth and stared at Bandogrim aghast. Bandogrim, however, did not look livid. In fact he smiled, which in itself was fairly terrifying.
"I'm glad you asked that," he said slowly.
"You are?" squeaked Pippin. Bandogrim nodded.
"Let me ask you a question," said Bandogrim, leaning forward. "Do you know who takes care of trouble-makers in the Shire?"
Pippin wondered whether this was a trick question. "Er, the Shirriffs, sir?" he said carefully.
"That's right," said Bandogrim nodding. "But can you imagine a crime so terrible, so absolutely abominable, so disgusting and reprehensible that even the Shirriffs cannot handle it?"
Pippin tried to picture this but couldn't think of anything more terrible than stealing someone else's meal or forcing a growing lad into frocks. Even that wouldn't get someone in trouble with the law, though; he knew from experience.
"I don't know what you mean, sir," he said. "I don't think there's anyone in the Shire who could do something that terrible."
"You'd be surprised," said Bandogrim darkly. "No one hears about folk like that for a reason."
"What reason would that be?" said Pippin with a gulp.
"Well, if the Shirriffs can't take care of them..."
"Someone else does?" said Pippin, trying to put the pieces together.
"Now you're getting it," said Bandogrim, with that same frightening grin and now a strange glint in his eyes.
"I'm still not sure I do," said Pippin. Secretly, he thought to himself that he didn't particularly want to get it.
"Well, let's put it this way," said Bandogrim. "A fellow gets involved with a lass that hasn't come of age. Things progress and she finds herself in a delicate position. Naturally, her parents wouldn't be happy about this. They'd want the cad taken care of."
Bandogrim spread his hands in a gesture that said, "And there you have it." Pippin stared at him, his mind attempting to wrap itself around all this information. He just couldn't believe hobbits were even capable of such awful deeds. Or that people could be 'taken care of,' whatever that even meant.
"But I have never even heard of anything like this, sir," he gasped.
"You haven't heard about it, because you aren't meant to hear about it," said Bandogrim gruffly, his smile fading. "Ask your uncle Saradoc about a certain servant named 'Chester Fields.' He was a right brutish sod if I ever saw one."
"But things like that just don't happen!" Pippin exclaimed, unable to contain himself any longer.
"I assure you, they do, boy," spat Bandogrim, now standing up. Pippin quickly jumped to his feet, but not fast enough, because Bandogrim now had him by his collar.
"So if I ever find out about you doing anything indecent to my Diamond..."
"WHAT?" Pippin cried, unable to believe what he was hearing. "I would never-"
"You touch so much as one hair on her head-"
"But we are just friends!" shrieked Pippin, somehow drowning out Bandogrim's threats. "I would never do anything like that! I don't think of her like that! I can't even imagine what you're talking about!"
Bandogrim stopped yelling, but didn't put Pippin back down. He spoke now in a lower, calmer tone. "Are you telling me the truth, boy?"
"Sir, I don't think I would be capable of lying to you," squeaked Pippin. "You frighten me too much."
At hearing this, Bandogrim chortled and released Pippin. "That's what I like to hear."
"Thank you, sir," said Pippin without thinking, before exhaling in relief. But just as he thought he was free, Bandogrim came up close to him and stuck his finger in his chest.
"But if I find out anything is out of order... if you hurt her in any way," he said, "So help me, I will rend you limb from limb and make it so no one even remembers your name."
Pippin gaped at him, mouth hanging open and eyes the size of saucers.
"Now, go join your friends," barked Bandogrim with a shooing gesture. "GO!"
Pippin didn't need to be told twice. He ran away so fast it was almost as if he wasn't wearing a dozen layers of clothing. When he caught up with Frodo and Merry and the rest, he was quite out of breath, but very happy to be alive and away from Bandogrim Took.
"There you are!" chuckled Merry at Pippin's sudden appearance. "How did your private hunting session go?"
Pippin took a moment to catch his breath and then looked up at his friends with a genuine smile. "Altogether better than I had expected!"
Back at Northern Smials the girls had given up any pretense at playing cards and simply began passing the bottle around and sharing secrets after each swig.
"Arright, arright, here's a good one," said Estella, as she wiped her mouth on her sleeve. "When I was little, I learned t'bake just so I could throw a pie at Merry."
Mundee and Molly laughed appreciatively, but Pervinca shook her head.
"Oh, that's not a real secret!" she said. "Everyone knows that story."
"They clearly don't," Estella said, pointing at the other two.
"Come on, give us something juicy!" coaxed Pervinca.
"Yes! Like when was yer first kiss!" shouted Molly. Estella looked scandalized.
"Much too person... pers... perrr... NO."
"Why were you an' Merry so cross at each other over th'summer?" said Mundee, her eyes narrowed sneakily.
"Tha's even worse!" cried Estella, blushing furiously.
"Everybody calm down!" said Pervinca firmly, causing the other three to grow quiet. "Here's one: what is your greatest dream? Something you want to do with your life."
"Oh, I dunno, I s'pose settlin' down with a good hobbit an' havin' a nice family?" said Estella with a weak shrug.
"Aw, come on, really?" said Pervinca, disappointed.
"I dunno! I don't think about those things!" said Estella, throwing her arms up in the air.
"Well, think about it now," said Pervinca, folding her arms.
Estella took a moment to focus herself, breathing in deeply, then looked around as if to see if anyone were eavesdropping and leaned in close. "If you want to know, I sometimes like to imagine owning a little shop."
"A little shop?" said Mundee loudly before bursting into laughter. Molly began to laugh too, though not as rambunctiously.
"What's wrong with that?" said Estella, looking deeply offended.
"There's nothing wrong with it," said Pervinca, shooting Mundee a look of disapproval. "What sort of a shop, Estella?"
"Well, sweets and pastries, I guess. I'd bake all sorts of things."
"Ooh, wouldja make more tasty squares?" said Molly.
"As long as Lobelia isn't there, yes!" said Estella with a wink, causing the rest of the girls to burst into laughter again.
"Well, what is stopping you from doing that?" said Pervinca as she settled back down.
"It's silly," said Estella with a shrug. "I don't think my parents would go for it."
"They seem sensible enough," said Pervinca. "I'm sure they see how much you love baking-"
"Pervinca, just drop it," said Estella, no longer quite so amused. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."
"Anyway, we've talked about Esmella long enough!" said Mundee loudly. "It's Molly's turn."
"You know, I'm really not so fond of that nickname," said Estella as she passed the nearly empty bottle of gin to Molly. Mundee merely stuck out her tongue in response.
"My... secret... is..." said Molly slowly, as she wondered what to talk about. Then glancing sideways at Mundee, she quickly exclaimed, "Mundee writes a lot of silly stories in her diary!"
"Oi, that's not fair!" squawked Mundee. "You're supposed to tell your own stupid secret!"
"You shoulda thought of that before you went and told them 'bout mine!" snapped Molly in return.
Now Estella and Pervinca exchanged amused looks as the cousins began to squabble. In the middle of all this, they missed the distinct sound of hurried footsteps in the hallway. Before they could hide the bottle or sit up straight or tidy themselves up in any way, there came a loud shocked gasp from the doorway. They all whipped around to see Delilah Took, Esmeralda Brandybuck, and Rosamunda Bolger standing there, looking absolutely livid.
"What is the meaning of this?" cried Mundee's mother. "Diamond, have you been through your father's liquor cabinet again?"
"Mum, this really isn't what it looks like..." Mundee sputtered as she frantically tried to think of a valid excuse or explanation.
"Oh, I don't feel so good," gasped Molly before keeling over. Mundee and the other girls watched in horror as Molly proceeded to retch all over the floor.
"Shameful!" said Rosamunda as she yanked Estella up from her seat.
"I don't care if you are coming of age in a month or a day!" shouted Esmeralda as she dragged Pervinca off. "You are my brother's daughter and if he knew what you were up to, he'd give you such a smack bottom!"
Mundee winced as she listened to Pervinca's aunt loudly berate her all the way down the corridor.
"I am so sorry about this," said Delilah to Rosamunda, who was leading Estella out with silent fury. Then turning to Mundee, she exhaled loudly and shook her head. "I just don't know what to do with you."
"I can explain! Really, I can!"
All the while, Molly continued to throw up in the background. When she finally stopped and stood up on her wobbly legs, Delilah looked at her sternly.
"Molly, run along and clean yourself up, before I fetch your mother," she said. Molly didn't need to be told twice. She dashed out of the room as if her life depended on it. Then Delilah returned her attention to Mundee.
"And you are going to stay here and clean that mess up."
"Yes, Mum."
"And you shan't be joining us tonight for dinner or supper."
"Yes, Mum."
"In fact, you won't be leaving your room at all today."
"All right, Mum."
"And if I catch you speaking to any of our guests, you won't be coming with us to any of their upcoming parties."
"Fine."
"Do you understand? That includes the Thain's boy."
"Now that's a bit harsh, isn't it? I mean, he hasn't done anything-"
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
Mundee sighed, but nodded.
"That's better," said Delilah icily.
She then handed her a rag she'd brought from the kitchen and whisked out of the room. Mundee was left standing alone, staring at the rag.
That evening the hunting party returned weary but not unhappy, as several North Took lads had managed to shoot down a deer while the rest were successful with smaller game. Even Fatty came back carrying a rabbit. Once they were all washed up and rested, they came to the great dining hall for dinner where a long table was laden with an assortment of delicious dishes. Pippin was so busy digging into his ham and mashed potatoes he almost didn't notice that Mundee was missing. However, halfway through dessert he realized Molly was sitting across from him, watching him eat with a frighteningly gleeful expression. That was when he also realized her cousin wasn't there to chide her.
"Er, hullo Molly," he stammered. "Where is Diamond?"
"Oh, she's in her room," said Molly with the same vapid smile. "She's in trouble."
"Really? What in the world did she do?" Pippin was shocked. So far it seemed like no matter what shenanigans she got into, Mundee never ended up punished. Whatever she had done this time, it must have been serious.
"She found some gin and got us girls drunk," said Molly. "Her mother was very unhappy. She's not allowed out for a while."
"Hmm, that's too bad," said Pippin, trying not to let on how upset the news made him, as he saw Bandogrim Took glaring at him out of the corner of his eye.
"Well, serves her right for acting so unladylike," he said loudly. "I know I wouldn't want to associate with someone who carries on like that."
Bandogrim turned away and went back to his prior conversation and Pippin let out a sigh of relief. Afterwards he confided his disappointment to Merry, while an exhausted Fatty snored on the couch. The two cousins sat cross-legged on the bear-skin rug in front of the fireplace.
"I don't know why you're so bothered by it," said Merry after listening at length. "Doesn't it make it make it easier with her father now?"
"I suppose," said Pippin. "It's just unfair, though. We come all this way to visit and she gets locked up for something so silly. I have half a mind that Pervinca put her up to it, anyway."
"I'll tell you what's unfair," said Merry. "A fine lady I rather fancy didn't want to speak to me tonight on account of her 'terrible headache.' Do you know whose fault that is?"
"Her own fault for having so little tolerance for gin?" said Pippin with a smirk. Merry chuckled despite himself and shook his head.
"Regardless, I don't see the problem," he said. Then with a shifty look, he went on, "It isn't as if you too are missing a lady you fancy. Unless... you do fancy her."
"Oh, Merry, don't be preposterous!" laughed Pippin, though his cheeks did flush. "How many times do I have to tell you-"
"Then it isn't a problem, is it?" interrupted Merry.
"No, I guess not," said Pippin with a shrug.
"Don't worry, you will still have a good time," said Merry. "The week will fly by, I promise."
And Merry spoke true, because between two more hunting trips, drunken adventures in the local tavern, and all the Yule games, dances, presents, and meals, Pippin hardly found himself missing Mundee. He instead found himself constantly in the company of his friends and new Northern acquaintances. There was hardly ever a dull moment and before he knew it, it was the night before they were all set to leave.
He walked through the woods whistling to himself. He and the rest of his usual company had set up a campfire on the outskirts of the property, so as to be left alone by the older hobbits, who insisted they go to bed early and prepare for the long ride in the morning. They'd taken turns telling stories, with Frodo's tales being the most poetic, Sam's the most colorful, and Merry's the most frightening. He and Pervinca had mostly told nonsensical funny yarns, having a similar sense of humor. The rest mostly listened and enjoyed the crackling flames amid the cool winter air and the starry sky.
But toward the end they'd all split up, with Fatty once again the earliest to go to bed, Sam and Frodo escorting Molly and Pervinca to their rooms, and Merry and Estella sneaking off to traipse through the grounds undisturbed.
So now Pippin headed back to his cabin, tired but cheerful and warm in his hooded cloak. He was halfway there when he heard a loud crunch behind him. He stopped in place and paused in fear to listen. Inwardly he knew there was probably nothing to worry about, but after a night full of Merry's wights, werewolves, snarks and grumkins his mind was racing with images of horrible beasts and bogeymen.
He heard nothing but the cold wind blowing a mournful response. He decided to walk on. After a minute's worth of anxious wandering through increasingly menacing pines, he heard the distinct sound of footsteps behind him and swiveled around. The manic pounding of his heart did not slow down when he saw that there was no one there.
He stood on the spot trembling and wondering what to do. In all the stories Merry had told, the hero (but more like victim) always called out "Who goes there?" only to find himself eaten or worse by the end of the tale, so Pippin wasn't going to make that mistake.
No, he was a step ahead. He knew well enough to make the first move and picked up a large branch off the ground. There was a pair of trees standing peculiarly close with a large convenient bush connecting them in the middle. He could have swore he saw the bush move slightly when he'd whipped around. Now he approached cautiously and as silently as he could, wielding the branch like some warrior's great sword.
As he found himself within striking range of the bush, he saw the foliage tremble slightly and then heard the faintest hint of a low hiss. Without thinking he swung down as hard as he could, causing the monster he'd hit to shriek loudly... in a rather girlish tone.
"Oh, no...!" moaned Pippin as he realized what he'd done. "Why do we always meet like this?"
Meanwhile by the edge of the North Took property, Merry was sitting by an old tree with Estella's head in his lap. The pair had a spectacular view of the moor and the starry sky and altogether were enjoying the quiet moment. When suddenly there came a shriek and a howl somewhere in the woods and Estella jerked her head up.
"Did you hear that?" she worriedly asked Merry.
"It's probably nothing," he told her as he continued to gaze out at the eerily beautiful vista in front of them. "Just one of the dogs, perhaps. Or maybe Fatty is having a night terror."
Estella didn't think his suggestion was funny and sat up with a frown. "It did not sound like Fatty."
"Fine. Then it's Pippin. Happy?"
"I'm serious, Merry. It sounded like someone was hurt or scared."
"That's not what he sounds like when he's hurt or scared. I'd give you an example, but I'm afraid it would damage your ears."
Estella couldn't help but smile as he tickled her ear as one does with a cat. She batted him away but didn't stand up.
"If you're sure there's nothing to worry about, then I won't worry," she said, leaning against his shoulder.
"I am very sure," said Merry, as he placed his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.
Pippin bit his lip in worry as he hovered over Mundee's fainted body. He could see where he'd hit her as her forehead was very red and there seemed to be a bump growing on the spot. He wondered whether it was best to bring her back to the smials and try to explain the situation to her parents or to leave her out in the woods and pretend he never saw her. In one case he risked himself being killed by her crazed father and in the other he'd be responsible for her dying of frost. Not many pleasant options.
"Come on, wake up," he said, fanning her face with a smaller leafy branch. That effort failing he took to lightly slapping her cheeks. "Don't be dead... please, oh please, don't be dead..."
Suddenly an eye cracked open.
"Would you be terribly devastated?" she murmured as she came to. Pippin breathed an enormous sigh of relief and slumped down against the nearest tree. She sat up and rubbed her head then squinted at him suspiciously.
"Was that you that hit me?"
"Yes," Pippin said sheepishly. "You frightened me!"
"Oh, what a great big brave Took you are," she snorted.
"Well, why were you stalking me?" he said in an indignant and accusatory tone.
"I didn't realize you were you!" she exclaimed. "You had your hood up and you looked like some kind of shadow creature."
Pippin chuckled and said, "I thought you were something like that, too, actually."
She laughed and they shared a quiet moment of mutual embarrassment.
"To be fair, though, you did hiss at me when I came up to the bush," Pippin pointed out. Mundee cocked an eyebrow at him.
"I wasn't hissing, I was sniffling," she said, pointing at her runny nose as she demonstrated. "I've been sick for half the week."
"Oh, that's too bad," said Pippin. "Well, I suppose it's a good thing you had to stay indoors all that time then, isn't it?"
Mundee shrugged. "I don't know. I reckon that might have been why I got sick in the first place."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not really one for staying inside for long stretches," said Mundee slowly, trying to make sense of her theory. "I like going outside and running through the grass and exploring the moor and having adventures. Being trapped in my room for so long... it just sort of wears me out. The gloom and the dust and the darkness."
Pippin suddenly felt very guilty about forgetting her for all that time. He didn't say anything and neither did Mundee. They both stared at the ground for a long and rather uncomfortable moment.
"Aren't you afraid of your parents discovering that you're out now?" Pippin finally spoke. "Wouldn't you get in trouble?"
"Oh, a world of trouble," said Mundee with a sudden grin. "But I had to come out and find you."
"What, me? Really? Why?" Pippin was grateful for the lack of moonlight to reveal the growing redness in his cheeks.
"I wanted to say goodbye before you left," said Mundee simply. "You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you?"
"Yes, but... well, that's silly," said Pippin with a laugh. "You'll get to see all of us within less than two months. Pervinca's party isn't that far away."
"No, I suppose not," said Mundee, laughing as well. "I just really needed to get out of my room."
Pippin shook his head and wondered whether she was feverish. The more he looked at her, the more he realized she didn't look at all well. Her eyes were dark and sunken, her skin was pale and damp with sweat, and her hair was limp and lifeless. Maybe the fresh air could do her some good, but most likely she just needed some rest. What's more, she was improperly dressed for the frigid air, wearing only her night gown and not even a coat or a jumper.
"Don't you think you'd better go home now?" he asked carefully as he stood up. "If either of your parents sees that you are missing..."
"I know, I know," groaned Mundee, rising to her feet as well. "I'm just so tired of dealing with them. They're very batty, the both of them."
"Oh, I couldn't agree with you more," said Pippin. "Your father has it in for me, remember? By the by, he definitely threatened me during the hunting trip. It was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life."
"I heard about that," said Mundee. "He has a tendency to rant when he's irritable. I usually ignore his tirades, but the one about the hunting trip was actually quite fascinating."
Pippin winced, but Mundee smiled again and patted his arm. "Don't worry, he'll get over it soon enough. At least he knows for a fact you weren't involved in the drinking incident. And assuming they never find out I left my room, we'll still be coming to Pervinca's party."
"That's quite a large assumption considering you're still here," said Pippin, pulling her in the direction of the smials. "Come, you need to go back. I'll walk some of the way with you, if you want."
"I would like that," said Mundee, allowing herself to be pulled along. "And you can tell me all about the fun you've had without me this week."
So as they made their way back to Great Northern Smials, Pippin recounted how he passed his week. He still felt the pangs of guilt for having such a grand time while she wallowed alone in her room, but he revealed none of this as he regaled her with his hilarious and exciting (and exaggerated) exploits. Before they knew it, the stately manor was looming up in front of them. Pippin stopped abruptly at the edge of the woods.
"And I think this is as far as I shall go. Wouldn't want your father catching a whiff of me."
"Of course not," said Mundee with a falsely serious nod.
As they stood there trying to say goodbye, once again caught in an awkward silence, the faintest hint of a snow began to fall.
"Well, that's unusual," said Pippin, holding his hand out to catch a flake. It never snowed in Tuckborough or much of the rest of the Shire, and the few times he'd seen it himself, he'd been too young to remember. He heard stories about the Fell Winter of 1311 when the Brandywine froze over and white wolves entered from the North, but this was no blizzard, just a light sprinkle.
"It snows like this sometimes, but never enough," sighed Mundee wistfully. Pippin watched her twirl around with her mouth open, attempting to eat the flurries, and felt a mixture of amusement and bewilderment. It was moments like this when he remembered she was related to Molly. Still... it was an endearing if odd display. He suddenly felt his stomach churn and also remembered that it had been hours since he'd eaten. Though, strangely enough, he wasn't actually all that hungry.
"Well, Merry is probably waiting for me," he said lamely as he started to back away. "And I do need to pack my things for the trip tomorrow."
"Right, yes," said Mundee, as she stopped spinning around to look at him. "You had better get to that then. I'll see you at the party, all right?"
"Yes, definitely," said Pippin scratching the back of his neck. "I will certainly be there... because I live there."
"That makes sense," said Mundee, rubbing her arms, apparently feeling the cold now. Pippin pitied her and had the strangest desire to lend her his cloak. Though that would be a dead giveaway if anything.
"Right so..." he said as he began to turn around. He couldn't understand why, but this was by far one of the stranger partings they'd ever had. And they'd had a handful of strange partings.
"Oh!" Mundee suddenly exclaimed, causing him to quickly look at her again. "Pervinca told me her party would have a fancy dress theme, did you know?"
"Of course I know, she's my sister," he said with a smirk. "She has already been making requests and demands and giving everyone instructions."
"Well, what will you be dressing as?" asked Mundee expectantly.
"As if I would be telling you!" laughed Pippin, folding his arms.
"Oh, you're no fun!" exclaimed Mundee, sticking out her tongue rudely.
"You keep saying that, and yet you always come back," said Pippin, poking her on the nose. She swatted him away and in the process grabbed his hand.
"I will see you in February," she said giving his hand a firm shake. "Your costume better not disappoint me."
"Aye? Well, the same to you," he said, returning the handshake before wrenching his hand away and shoving her off. "Go on now, before you find yourself even more sick!"
"Good night! Happy Yule!" she said with a wink before dashing off home.
Though the snow did not stick to the ground, it was still a strange and somehow dream-like sight to see her running through the white haze. Once he saw her safely reach her window and climb through, Pippin turned around for good and once again started the trek back to his cabin. Though the dark trees shook and the wind blew right into his bones, he found himself neither afraid nor cold this time around.