The Tooksday Quote:

“’Yes, it is all very dim and stuffy in here,’ said Pippin. ‘It reminds me somehow, of the old room in the Great Place of the Tooks away back in the Smials at Tuckborough: a huge place, where the furniture has never been moved or changed for generations. They say the Old Took lived in it, year after year, while he and the rooms got older and shabbier together. Gerontius was my great-great-grandfather: that puts it back a bit. But that is nothing to the old feeling of this wood. Look at all those weeping, trailing, beards and whiskers of lichen! And most of the trees seem to be covered with ragged dry leaves that have never fallen. Untidy. I can’t imagine what spring would look like here, if it ever comes; still less a spring-cleaning.’” (TTT, Book III, Chapter III, “The Uruk-Hai“)

A/N: This ficlet is my response to a challenge posed by Dreamflower on the PippinHealers group a short while ago!

“Room for Adventure. . .”

If it hadn’t been for Lily, he never would have found it. On the other hand, if it hadn’t been for Sancho scaring Lily away, he wouldn’t have found it, either. Then again, if he hadn’t been teasing Sancho, his friend wouldn’t have stepped on Lily’s tail and scared her, resulting in the kitty tearing off down the long passageways and disappearing with a yowl of indignation.

The musty corridor lead into a section of Great Smials where Pippin was sure he’d never been. Of course, at the age of ten, there were many places he hadn’t yet explored, and in a place as large as the Took’s ancestral home, it would probably take him years. No matter, he was up to the task without a doubt. Always curious, never satisfied with just one answer to a question, Pippin knew there was always more to any story, and he meant to learn what had been left out.

Lurching around a corner, hot on the cat’s trail, he spied Lily’s wandering paw prints at last. A little further away he noticed a door standing ajar, smoky light filtering into the corridor through a dirt-smeared window. Pippin watched the dust motes swirling and dancing from the room on the murky ray of sunlight.

Everything was thick with dust here; even the air felt heavy and strange, as if this part of the smial was holding it’s breath, waiting.

Waiting? Pippin grinned with anticipation, settling fisted hands on hips. “Hallo?” he sang out, and listened to his voice echoing faintly in the stillness. His smile widened. Now here was a place with a feeling of mystery about it! He peered through the half-open door and a sudden whoosh of air raised goose flesh on his arms. Instead of running away in fear, as other children almost certainly would have, Pippin enjoyed the shiver running through him, finding that it whet his appetite for more.

Rubbing both hands up and down his arms to quell the delicious goose bumps, he used his foot to give the door a nudge. It fell open completely, almost soundlessly. . .almost. Pippin was certain he’d heard a little sigh. Taking it as an invitation, he crept inside. Eyes widening, he turned in a circle, taking in the huge room and the grimy furnishings.

Faded curtains, shredded from neglect and the weight of dust, covered the only window and moved a little in the draft from the open door. A shabby couch was shoved against the far wall; stacks of books marched across the shelf above. The thin volumes made him think about his game of dominoes and he frowned, remembering that Pervinca had lost some of the pieces only just yesterday.

Lily poked her head out from beneath the couch and cried for his attention just then, and he turned with a laugh at the sight of cobweb-covered whiskers as she scampered over to him and rubbed her head against his foot with a purr. Kneeling to gather her into his arms, his gaze fell upon it.

The great desk seemed to beckon him, and he approached it with a curious feeling of wonder. He reached out with a hesitant hand and trailed a finger along its surface, then wrote his name in the thick dust. A book lay nearby, its cover opened as if the reader had just stepped away for a moment. Next to it laid a tattered quill and a dried out inkwell. The curling, yellowed pages were unreadable, so Pippin took a deep breath and blew on them. The resulting cloud of dust rained down on his head and he sneezed several times in quick succession. Scrubbing his nose on his shirtsleeve absent-mindedly, he smoothed the pages and squinted at the words.

The handwriting was antiquated. He was reminded of the old letters his mother kept in her remembrance box, tied with a velvety ribbon of green. He knew only because he had once poked about in the cupboard in his parents’ room after spying his mother putting it away. The letters had been a bit of a disappointment to him at the time. However, the writing in this journal seemed to be much older than anything he’d seen before and Pippin’s interest grew.

Lily weaved in and out between his legs and chirped, and he patted her head with one hand, while the other one wiped away more of the grime. He squinted harder, but was still unable to make out much in the dim light. What was this place? He wondered how long it had been since anyone else had visited. A very long time indeed, he decided, looking around with a sigh. 

He lifted his head at the faint shouts of laughter and pounding feet of the other children far down the corridor, and Pippin paused in his inspection. Coming to a decision, he hurried from the room and pulled the door shut firmly behind him.

He wasn’t ready to share this secret place with anyone today. But he’d be back, and perhaps he’d bring someone along to share the mystery with. The hidden room was an adventure waiting to happen, Pippin decided, and he would return soon to see if he could make it yield some of its past to his inquisitive eyes.

He took off on the run, skipping around the corner and heading back to his friends and cousins. Lily followed at a more sedate pace.

Behind him, dusty curtains again stirred in the draft. The room seemed to sigh with loneliness and the longing to yield up a few of its secrets to a curious lad.

Pippin gave the door a nudge with his foot and watched as it swung back slowly with a creak and a sigh. Air whooshed from the room, hot and musty, and dust motes tickled his nose. Not for the first time, he crept inside, pausing to eye the great desk. The book lay open, exactly as before, the grimy smudges on the yellowed page the only evidence of his earlier intrusion. Pippin hesitated for only a moment before carefully scooping the volume into his arms. Settling on the couch, he turned the pages one by one, squinting at the faded ink, the antiquated handwriting taking some effort to interpret. Sweat trickled from his brow as he read, and he brushed at his face absent-mindedly with a grimy sleeve. A soft breeze from the open door caressed his cheek and Pippin sat back, eager to enter that long-ago world.

Thank you Dreamflower for the Beta, as well as character names , and Pearl Took for reading and making suggestions!

“A Long-Ago Adventure”

Pippin gave the door a nudge with his foot and watched as it swung back slowly with a creak and a sigh. Air whooshed from the room, hot and musty, and dust motes tickled his nose. Not for the first time, he crept inside, pausing to eye the great desk. The book lay open, exactly as before, the grimy smudges on the yellowed page the only evidence of his earlier intrusion. Pippin hesitated for only a moment before carefully scooping the volume into his arms. Settling on the couch, he turned the pages one by one, squinting at the faded ink, the antiquated handwriting taking some effort to interpret. Sweat trickled from his brow as he read, and he brushed at his face absent-mindedly with a grimy sleeve. A soft breeze from the open door caressed his cheek and Pippin sat back, eager to enter that long-ago world.*

*More Room for Adventure

22 September

Mother says I should practice my penmanship by composing a page every day, so here I am again. Ho-hum, I’d much rather be outside running about with Belle, throwing a stick for her to fetch, than sitting here, confined to my room until my lessons are finished. I suppose it really is my own fault, as Mother said, because if I hadn’t neglected the task yesterday, I wouldn’t have twice as much work to do today! Oh well. Two whole pages will go quickly enough if only I can think of something to say. What does one write about when one is all alone and wishing for something exciting to happen? Shall I write about what I think it will be like to be the Took and Thain someday? At the moment the prospect seems dreadfully tedious to me. I think Father mostly reads and signs papers all the daylong. At least, I haven’t seen him do much else. Why, if it weren’t for the trips into the villages then I think the life of a Thain would be dull indeed!

Pippin chuckled as he turned to the next page. “I’ve often thought the same thing,” he told Lily. Lily didn’t bother replying. Instead she raised her right paw and washed over her ear. Pippin turned his attention back to the book and laughed aloud as he read.

Father shook his head when I told him this once, and said I have a great deal to learn. I suppose I do, but I find it terribly hard to imagine such a far off day. I am barely eighteen years old and it feels like growing up takes a long time. Father always laughs when say I that, and then gives me a smile and a pat on the head. I would never tell him this, but at those times I feel more like Belle probably does when I give her a fresh soup bone to gnaw.

There are so many things I long to understand! How does the Sun know when it’s time for the moon to rise, and time for her to close her golden eyes? How does the cream know when it is time to turn to butter in the churn? Why is the sky blue instead of green? Is it possible to learn to breathe under water? If a fish can do so, why can’t I?

Pippin sucked in a breath of surprise. “I’ve wondered about the cream, too, and I still don’t understand how that part of the churning works!” Pippin stared down at the elegant script, thinking hard. “Just how does a fish manage breathing under the water? Once when I tried that I found it to be quite a dreadful experience, and then Merry scolded me soundly for not holding my breath.” He glanced at Lily. She was still grooming herself, seemingly unconcerned about the answers to the questions Pippin pondered.

Most of my questions go unanswered, and sometimes my sisters laugh when I ask them something I think is important. I am quite serious about receiving an answer, but it is obvious they look upon me with indulgence, or worse, with an eye towards being entertained. Pandora says I talk too much, and Prima says I ask far too many questions. I don’t agree with them, but I think the rest of my family does. Why did I have to be born last? Ah, that’s another good question.

“Sisters! I feel sorry for this lad. Why, they sound just like Pearl, and Nell, and Vinca!” Pippin’s eyelids began to droop and he stifled a yawn, squinting at the faded page in the dimming light. He’d been reading for a long time, unable to put down the journal, but now he struggled to stay awake. Blinking his eyes firmly to wake himself up, he turned the page and continued.

On the other hand, being the youngest does have its advantages. It’s far easier to sway my mother to allow me an extra ginger biscuit or two, than it ever has been for my sisters. At least, that’s what they tell me. And I get to stay up later than they did. Perhaps our parents have decided not to make the same errors with their youngest as they may have with the older children? But it does seem reasonable to me, now that I think about it. Otherwise, why have so many of the rules changed?

Pippin found himself nodding in agreement. His head drooped lower and he held the book closer to his eyes.

Oh! I almost forgot to mention the exciting tale I heard just this morning as I was listening from beneath the table in the dining room. I’d been looking for my best shooter marble, the one I lost when Pamphila chased me around the table yesterday, accusing me of taking her best hair ribbon. Anyway, Pandora rushed in, all out of breath and pulled Prima into a corner and began telling her all about a map she’d found in one of the old rooms far back in the Smials. Pandora must have said something very interesting because all of a sudden Prima got dreadfully excited and shouted ‘Do you really mean it?’ and I admit I strained my ears to hear more after that, but Pandora was very eager to hush her up. . .

“A map, Lily! I wonder where exactly they found it?” Pippin stifled another yawn. “I wish I knew where it was now. . .”

Outside the dust-stained windows the sun began its slow descent; behind the rain clouds that had gathered steadily throughout the afternoon, shadows grew and lengthened. Soft rumbles of thunder began, like music from a child’s toy drum. Occasionally a flash of light filtered into the room where a young hobbit lay curled on a couch, an old book his makeshift pillow, and a longhaired white cat for a coverlet.

Pippin was deep in his dream and did not hear the thunder. The lightning held no fear, for his mind was elsewhere, far away from the dusty room. The purring soothed him, and he snuggled deeper into the warmth. Lily stirred with a chirp, and gave a luxurious stretch of both legs before resettling herself on Pippin’s shoulder.

A creased paper slipped from the back of the book and floated to the floor, coming to a rest underneath the corner of the couch. It went unnoticed as the two companions filled the room with gentle snores.

“A Long-Ago Adventure”

Part Two

Pippin awoke with a start, rolling off the couch and landing on the floor with a thud. Lily leaped, using his shoulder as a springboard and giving an indignant meow at the abrupt change in position.  

He scrambled to a sitting position and yawned, looking around with eyes not quite focused. Had someone called his name? Pippin squinted into the dimness and wondered where he was. Awareness slowly dawned along with the remnants of his dream. He’d been rooting about in the hidden room and had fallen asleep with his nose in the journal. He seemed to recall talking with someone, another lad perhaps a few years older than he, and they’d been interrupted by the shout.

Pippin shot to his feet. “Oh! I wonder what time it is?”

“PIPPIN!”

The shout came again, muffled by distance; this time the voice sounded annoyed and Pippin realised it was Pervinca.

“It’s time for tea! Wherever are you, Peregrin Took? Mum said we couldn’t start without you so you’d best come out of hiding now or I’ll. . .”

The rest of her threat was muffled as she moved away. Pippin sniggered, picturing Vinca getting lost on her search and then returning to find he’d eaten her share of the ginger biscuits as well as his own. It was a pleasant daydream, although Pippin knew his mother would not allow it to happen. More likely he would be stuck waiting for Vinca to return from her errand and the tea would get cold!

Lily took a leisurely stretch and padded to the door, pausing to toss a look over her shoulder as if to say ‘you’d better hurry up or all the food will be gone and we shan’t get anything’. Then she hooked a paw between the door and the jamb and was gone.

He was about to follow Lily when he felt something beneath his foot. He stooped to retrieve a furrowed piece of paper, staring at it for a moment before unfolding it carefully. The scrap was yellowed with age, the ink smeared, but the antiquated script was still legible.

“Hullo! What’s this?” The shadows had moved in and despite his best efforts squinting did little good.

Pervinca called again and he jumped; it sounded like Teriadoc Brandybuck was with her this time and it simply would not do to have either of them discover what he had come to think of as his secret place, so Pippin crammed the paper into his pocket and hurried away.

As the door swung shut behind him, Pippin paused, certain he had detected a giggle of amusement in the gloom behind him. Turning slowly, eyes wide, he pushed the door open and scanned the room. All was quiet save for the ticking of the clock on the mantel of the room’s fireplace. Pippin chewed on the inside of his cheek, pondering. Had the clock been ticking on his earlier excursion? After taking one more look around the room he shrugged and closed the door. The latch clicked softly into place and Pippin dashed off, a smile playing about the corners of his mouth.  

***

The next day Pippin stood with fisted hands on hips, eyeing his surroundings. He clutched the piece of paper with the air of one who has been duly challenged, determined to make sense of the puzzle. It had been impossible to study his find without interruption the night before, so Pippin had settled for tucking it back into his pocket, eagerly awaiting another opportunity to steal away.

He sniffed at the air, noticing the room seemed a little less stuffy, as if someone had stolen in and cleaned during the night. He thought he even detected the scent of the oil his mother used to polish the furniture at home in Whitwell. Pippin ran his finger down the length of the great oaken desk and then stared at it thoughtfully. He was familiar with untidiness, and dirt was certainly no stranger, so it wouldn’t have bothered him in the least if he’d found his finger blackened with grime. The odd part of it was, there was no more dust on the desk. Well, perhaps I wiped most of it away with my sleeves yesterday, without really noticing, he thought, while I was looking through the book.

Pippin retrieved the journal and scooted back into a comfortable spot on the couch, pulling his legs up to sit tailor-fashion. Resting the book on his knees he opened it up, smoothing out the yellowed paper on top of the pages. Lily hopped up to join him and after grooming her coat to the luster of freshly churned cream, curled against his leg with a sigh of contentment. Pippin stroked her soft fur absent-mindedly and studied the map.

After several moments had passed he glanced at Lily with a grin of triumph. “Lily, I’m certain this must be the map that lad was referring to! It’s very old and brittle. But I wonder who left it in the book?” Pippin began eagerly turning the pages looking for the passage he’d read the day before. “Here’s what I was reading yesterday. Listen to this!”  Pippin read aloud from the journal.

. . .Pandora rushed in, all out of breath and pulled Prima into a corner and began telling her all about a map she’d found in one of the old rooms far back in the Smials. Pandora must have said something very interesting because all of a sudden Prima got dreadfully excited and shouted ‘Do you really mean it?’ . . .but Pandora was very eager to hush her up. . .

Pippin sighed. “I wish I knew what Pandora was talking about, don’t you, lass?” Lily chirped at her young master and brushed a paw over one ear twice before laying her head down again. It seemed she wasn’t nearly as excited about the matter as Pippin was.

“Well, perhaps there’s more about what happened after that.” Pippin settled in and began to read. Nearby, the clock ticked away on the mantel, passing the time and adding to the tranquility of the room and its occupants.

23 September

I still have not found my best marble, even after searching everywhere in the Smials, or so it seems. Mother said it would be in the very last place I look and I suppose that makes sense. Why should I keep looking elsewhere after I have found it? Adults say some very confusing things sometimes.

Pandora and Prima are quite infuriating. They whisper together in the corner and skip away whenever I come near. I know they are hiding something. I am certain they are talking about the map Pandora found and their secrecy is driving me mad. Of course, I am sure that is the way they have planned it, for the two of them enjoy nothing better than to torment me. Ah me, why is it always the fate of the youngest to suffer for the pleasure of one’s elder sisters? I would tell Father what they are about if only I could be certain they would not corner me and thump me soundly for tattling!

Pippin giggled into his hand. “I do hope this lad was bright enough not to do such a thing,” he told Lily. “Although whenever Vinca has thumped me I’ve always found a way to turn the tables on her.” Lily opened one eye and looked up, her skepticism plain. She twitched her long whiskers at him. “All right, I usually find a way,” he admitted. As if satisfied with his confession, Lily stretched out with a purr and closed her eyes again while Pippin returned to his reading.

But I have a plan. And it is a good thing that Mother does not insist on reading my lessons. But she says a lad should have a place to put his private thoughts and as long as I practice my penmanship, she is pleased. That reminds me, though. She did mention I should have the. . .how did she put it again? Oh yes, she said I should have the sagacity to put my journal somewhere for safekeeping in order to avoid prying eyes. I wonder if she was referring to Prima?

Pippin muttered, “Yes, a bright lad without a doubt. Although I wonder why this book was left lying about then? Perhaps he forgot to put it away the last time he wrote in it? Hmm, I wonder if his sisters ever stole a look when he wasn’t about?” Lily offered no comment. “I wonder what his plan was?” Pippin flipped through the pages before resuming where he’d left off. A short time later he began to chuckle. “We’re going on a treasure hunt, lass!” Pippin slid off the couch, tucking the book under his arm and motioning for the cat to follow. “Come, Lily, we’re going to explore farther into the old part of the Smials. There’s a good lass!” He crammed the map inside the journal and hurried to the door.

Against her better judgment, Lily obediently hopped down and followed. After all, someone had to keep an eye on Pippin.