Chapter Twelve

Pippin sat in the large tree on the hill. It was a tad treacherous getting up. He slipped a couple times on the wet bark, but was able to climb, albeit carefully, up into the heights of the tree. Here he was content...for now. He sipped from his mug and fingered his new pipe. So smooth it was. He wished he had some leaf to go into it, but realized the night rain would have sputtered out any flame. The raindrops soaked his good clothes and ran down his face from his wet hair. He shivered as he remembered his cloak still hanging on the peg inside Bag End.

He was pondering Merry’s notion to leave without so much as a goodbye, when he heard the door squeak open and then close shut. It was Merry. Pippin sat quietly where he was, observing the teen from his perch high above.

The rain smelled good and fresh to Merry. Rain always seemed to clean the air. He walked up the lane beside the garden and stopped in front of the tree where Pippin was sitting. Merry gazed into the garden; it looked very beautiful to him and noticed it was well tended by the Gaffer and Sam. Not a rose out of place, and the bluebells together with the marigolds completed the splendor. He wondered if bluebells had to make such difficult decisions as he did tonight? He laughed to himself at his own nonsense. He put his hands in his pockets to ward off the damp cold, but his clothes were getting wet through his cloak. After that, nothing would keep out the chill. The silence was comforting.

What do I do?, Merry thought as he considered Frodo’s offer. Move into Bag End? His choices were either to remain at Whitwell, or move here. He would not go back home to Buckland, that much he knew. But where to from here? Deep in his heart he knew the answer.

Pippin watched Merry from his branch. What was Merry doing out here? Was Merry following him? Why was he pacing up and down the lane? Surely he had “decisions” to make, as he remembered his father’s words, and it was obvious to Pippin what Merry’s decision would be Bag End.

Pippin was feeling quite relaxed by now, in fact, he was starting to feel a bit dizzy. He fingered his pipe again. He wasn’t angry with Frodo. Pippin was glad someone had offered shelter to his dear cousin. He knew Merry would not go back to Buckland but why would he not stay with his family? Even for a little while longer? Was it so bad being a Took? Merry indeed had Took blood in him! Pippin searched his heart to find the ‘why’ he was aching an answer to. A chill came over Pippin and he sneezed.

Merry was deep in thought. He stared out into the darkness of the fields of Hobbiton, and found no easy answers. He heard a noise. He thought it sounded like...a sneeze? He turned to each side and peered into the darkness to find no one. He was certain he heard something; perhaps it was his own imagination. Wait....he turned around and looked up into the tree. His eyes spotted the source.

“Pippin! What are you doing up there?”

Pippin thought if he didn’t answer him, Merry would go away.

“Pippin! Come down from there.”

“No--leave me alone!”

Puzzled, Merry ventured again, “Pippin! What’s going on--what’s the matter?”

As if he didn’t know! Pippin yelled down, “You! You’re the matter, that’s what!”

Merry answered, “What are you talking about?”

“Do you think I’m stupid? I was there when Frodo gave you your gift--don’t you remember? I was there! He gave you a piece of Bag End--which probably wasn’t even his to give, and you! You ate it all up!” By now, the ale was talking in full force for Pippin. “And what are you thinking about now I might ask? How fast you can pack your bags and leave without so much as a goodbye? Won’t you even think about how much we will miss you? I won’t ever see you again! You’re all I--”, and Pippin stopped himself there. He told himself no tears, but here they were.

This won’t do, thought Pippin, and he started to climb down. Between the rain, and his inebriated state, Pippin slipped but caught himself on a lower branch...dropping his mug. It was empty anyway.

This frightened Merry. What was wrong with his cousin? He seemed fine not too long ago in Bilbo’s Study. Pippin looked like he was having difficulties climbing down from the branches. He rushed to help Pippin the rest of the way down. “Wait! Hold up, Pippin!” Merry hurtled over the low hedge that lined the lane, and raced up the hill to the tree.

Pippin caught his feet on the branch below, and decided to jump the rest of the way. And as he dropped, he realized his judgment was terribly wrong.

Merry shouted, “Pippin!! NO!”

But it was too late. Pippin sailed past several huge branches before he hit something....

Merry felt the jolt upon his head and tumbled down the other side of the hill, with Pippin tumbling alongside him. The backside of The Hill was not as well tended as the front side. Brambles and thorns tore at their flesh, scratching up their skin to the point of drawing blood. Merry felt his head hit something hard several times while tumbling on they went.

When Pippin jumped from the tree, he felt he landed on something but didn’t realize right away that it was Merry‘s head. He did know that it wasn’t the ground. Then when he realized he was still falling, he shot out his left arm to catch himself on the ground and immediately felt a sharp pain shoot up his arm as he tried to shield his second landing. He let out a muffled cry. Head over heels he went until he came to a stop by a huge rock. He hit it with such force that it knocked the wind out of him.

After a few minutes, they heard voices. “Who’s down there?” Pippin found he couldn’t answer. He couldn’t find his breath.

Merry got up on his hands and knees, dazed himself. “Hullo, up there,” but his voice was too small to carry up the hill. Merry heard the buzz of a hundred people in his ears.

Merry’s whole body throbbed. He let himself settle onto the wet, muddy ground. He was too numb and weak to crawl back up the hill. Merry called out his cousin’s name, half not expecting an answer. Pippin fell from a great height, and he guessed him to be in bad shape. Merry felt around in the darkness to find Pippin. His hands felt a trembling body. He moved slowly towards the shivering mass until he hovered over the body and felt the warmth--or lack thereof-of Pippin. How long was his cousin in that tree? Pippin was completely soaked through to the skin. He lay himself next to his young cousin with Pippin’s back to his chest. Merry enveloped his cousin and wrapped his cloak about them both, until darkness stole his mind away.