Disclaimer: All names, characters, and places contained herein are property of Tolkien Enterprises, with which I am in no way affiliated. This story was written purely for entertainment purposes and I am receiving no monetary compensation for its writing.

Summary: In which Faramir Took is up a tree (literally), Pippin is chastised, and Diamond is in full mother-mode. (NO slash, profanity, or violence)

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"Diamond, dearest, I need your help."

"What have you done now, Pippin?" I ask, not even turning from my mending to look at my husband.

"What makes you think I've done something?" he asks, coming to stand before me.

"Because you only ever use that tone of voice and call me 'dearest' when you've done something and need my help to undo it," I reply, still not looking up from the pair of trousers I'm mending. "Now tell me what I need to undo for you."

Pippin sighed, clearly defeated. "Why are you always right?" he asks wearily.

"Because I'm a wife and a mother," I reply. "Wives and mothers are always right."

I finally look up at Pippin and have to fight to stifle my laughter. His arms are hanging at his sides, shoulders slumped, head bowed in defeat. It's the same posture that Faramir adopts whenever he is caught taking food from the pantry. Now I know where he gets it from.

"Pippin, tell me what you need my help for," I say, still trying not to laugh, though I can't hide my smile.

"You know the large apple tree in the west field?" I nod my assent. "All of the best apples are at the top of the tree, higher than I can climb without the branches breaking." I begin to see where the story is headed, but let Pippin continue. "I asked Faramir to climb up and get me one. He's up higher than he's ever been before--"

"But he's too scared to climb back down," I finish for him. "And you want me to climb up and get him down?"

"Well, yes," Pippin replies. "I would do it myself, but I'm too heavy for the branches that high."

"Who's out there with him now?" I ask, setting my mending down and heading to the closet. A dress isn't something you wear to climb trees. At least not without something underneath.

"Umm, no one?"

"What?" I exclaim, whirling to face my husband. "You left him up there alone?"

"No one was with us, and I had to get you--"

"Peregrin Took, you get back out there this instant!" I command, now in full-mother mode. "And don't you leave our son until he's out of that tree!"

A quick "Yes, Diamond" and Pippin is out the door in a flash.

Now more worried than amused, I pull out a pair of old trousers, the ones I would wear under my skirt when I would climb trees back in Long Cleeve. Thankfully, they still fit, though a big snugly.

Somehow, I manage not to run though the Smials. It would be unseemly for the Mistress to do so. Still, my walk is hurried and everyone moves out of my way as I bustle down the hall towards the great door.

Once I am outside, though, my walk quickly changes to a run as I head for the west field. The apple tree isn't far from the great door, and soon I am standing next to Pippin, gazing up at our son. I take a moment to catch my breath before calling out, "Faramir, are you all right?"

"I'm scared, Mum," he answers plaintively.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," I tell him. "I'll be up there in just a minute to get you down."

And so, with a boost up from Pippin, I begin to climb. I haven't climbed a tree in years, not since I was a tweenager, but I find that it doesn't take long for me to remember exactly how to place my feet and hands. It's almost like walking: once learned, it's never forgotten.

It takes me a few moments, but soon I am before my son. He is clinging to a branch like his life depends on it, eyes squeezed tight in fear. My poor lad, scared absolutely to death, all because his father wanted an apple.

"Faramir," I say quietly, not wanting to startle him, "darling, can you open your eyes for me? Just open your eyes and look at me, darling. That's it, Faramir, that's a good lad." Once open, his green eyes, so like his father's, are full of fear.

"Faramir, I'm going to turn around so that I'm facing away from you, all right?" A shaky nod. With infinte care, I maneuver myself so that I am facing off towards the open air. "Now, Faramir, I want you to wrap your arms around my neck."

"No, I can't, I'll fall," he whimpers.

"You will not fall," I tell him, once again in mother-mode. "I won't let you fall from this tree, I promise. Be a brave lad for you mum, all right? Just pretend you're hugging me from behind."

I begin to fear that Faramir won't let go of the branch. I am about to turn back around to try to coax him some more when he suddenly wraps his arms about my neck in a death grip.

"Faramir, you're choking me, darling," I gasp out. After a second, his grip loosens slightly. "Good lad, that's a good lad. Now, I want you to wrap your legs around my waist. Then we can get down from here. How does that sound to you?"

Instead of answering, Faramir wraps his legs firmly about my midsection. Now, taking more care that I ever have before, I begin to climb down. It's harder with another person clinging to my back, but I manage and soon Pippin is helping me off the last branch.

I kneel down and gently pry Faramir's legs from around my waist while Pippin tries to coax him into letting go of my neck. "Come on, Faramir lad, you're safe on the ground. You can let go of your mum's neck now. Come on lad. You need to let go of Mum's neck or else we'll all miss tea."

This is all the encouragement needed. Faramir, like his father, never misses a meal. He lets go of me as promptly as can be and falls on his bottom in the grass in his rush.

Pippin helps me to my feet then turns to our son. "Come on, then, lad," he says, picking up Faramir and settling him in his arms. "I heard that the cooks made apple tarts for tea today. What do you say we go and have a taste?"

Faramir nods and Pippin starts walking towards the Smials. I just remain standing under the tree, watching my lads, wondering how long it will be before I have to rescue my lad again.

"Probably much sooner than I would like," I murmur to myself before following my husband towards the Smials.

He has almost reached the great door when Faramir says, his clear voice carrying the distance easily, "But, da, I didn't get your apple for you!"

"That's all right, lad," Pippin replies. "Getting you down from that tree safely is a treat enough for me."

The End