Chapter Seven - What Can They Possibly Do To Me?

It was a long, long walk from the dense woodlands of Woody End to the western boundary of the South Farthing. The group walked far into the night, and then woke up very early so that they would be in Tuckborough before midnight. Frodo held the reins of his pony and led her along as he and Merry walked together.

Pippin walked ahead of his cousins. He had found a sturdy stick in the road a ways back and was busy trimming away the dead twigs and leaves. He let his hands slide up and down the semi-smooth bark, pealing off the loose layers. Then he held it out lengthwise before him, surveying his handiwork with a critical eye. He fancied that in the end, his stick would resemble that of old Bilbo’s favourite walking stick. The one he used on his adventures far away beyond the borders of the Shire.

Behind him, Pippin could hear Merry and Frodo quietly discussing something. They spoke in lower tones, but made no attempt to whisper. Pippin continued to fuss over his walking stick, but made it a point to catch snippets of whatever it was that they were chatting about.

“I haven’t seen any orchards at all since we left the woods behind,” said Merry.

Frodo shaded his eyes as he looked further into the distance, “Neither have I, but I’m not too worried yet.”

“I am,” Merry answered, nodding towards their teenage cousin. “Have you seen our cousin eat lately?” Frodo couldn’t help but laugh.

Pippin called over his shoulder to his lagging cousins, “It’s nice that you’re discussing my eating habits as if I weren’t here!”

“Merry wasn’t speaking any secrets,” Frodo said. “My own larder is still a bit bare from your last visit.” Now it was Merry’s turn to laugh.

Pippin turned around as he walked to join in their banter, “I’m a growing hobbit teen, I’ll have you know! I’m supposed to eat a lot. Unlike Merry--who has yet to stop eating.”

Frodo walked casually with his hands in his pockets, “Why don’t you put the stick down, little laddie, and come join our wee party?” Frodo knew Pippin hated being called ‘little laddie’.

“Yes, dear cousin,” Merry goaded Pippin, “instead of eavesdropping, why don’t you walk with us? I promise to stop eating long enough for you to get in a word or two.”

“I wasn‘t eavesdropping,” Pippin said. Then he asked, “Is that a proper invitation?”

Merry looked at Frodo, then ran up behind Pippin, grabbed the stick and bolted. “Now it is!”

“Hey!” Pippin yelled, “That’s mine!” He took off after his cousin.

All of a sudden, Pippin dramatically stopped in the middle of the road, put his hand to his stomach and made a face. “Merry!” He shouted, dropping to his knees.

Merry thought something was seriously wrong with the lad and ran back to investigate. Frodo was smirking; he knew Pippin was playing a game with Merry.

When Pippin knew that Merry was at his side, he jumped up and said, “Thank you!” He grabbed his walking stick out of Merry’s hands and tried to run off, but Merry wrestled Pippin to the ground and sat on him, tickling him mercilessly.

Pippin laughed and squirmed, “Frodo! Help!”

Frodo walked up, still leading the pony. He reached down and took the walking stick from Pippin’s hand. “That’s a very nice walking stick! Thank you, Pip.”

Pippin wasn’t entirely defenseless; he used his scrawny elbow to prod Merry off of him.

“Ow!” Merry rolled off his cousin onto the ground, rubbing his ribs.

Frodo stopped the pony, surveying the area. It looked as likely a place as any to sit and have a meal, however inadequate it would be. “Why don’t we rest here and have a little picnic?” He untied his pack from the pony and looked inside. He glanced up at his friends with a grim expression on his face, “I don’t think we have enough between us to have a proper snack.” Those words made the teen spin around on his heels. Frodo continued on, “We have just enough for a well-deserved nibble between the three of us, but I don’t know what we’re to do for tonight’s teatime, let alone supper.”

Pippin figured they would be approaching his old neighbourhood of Whitwell in a few hours. Whitwell is a small village where his family owned and farmed a huge parcel of land.

Pippin gave a sidelong look at Merry. Merry shook his head, “Oh, no! Not that again!”

“What else are we to do, Merry?” Pippin argued. “Do you want to starve?”

“No,” Merry sighed, “but I don’t wish to meet up with any dogs again.”

Pippin looked baffled, “On my father’s farm?”

Then Merry understood his cousin. Pippin meant for them to ransack his own father’s fields. “But Pippin,” said Merry, “doesn’t your father hire someone to watch the crops at night?”

“Yes, but they all know who I am,” Pippin answered with confidence. He thought he would show his cousins just how resourceful he could be in his father’s own fields. He knew the land well and where the watchers...slept. He said to Merry, “and let me do the deed this time! You do seem to attract trouble for some unknown reason.”

Merry shook his head, “I’m not going to let you go out there all alone!”

“You have to, Merry,” Pippin reasoned. “I know which crops are where, and I know where the gates are watched. Besides,” he added, “Someone has to stay back and watch Frodo.”

Frodo became indignant, “I do not need minding like a little hobbit child.”

Merry took one look at Frodo's pudgy belly and snickered, “Surely you don’t think you can leap a fence in a single bound, do you?”

Frodo was reluctant to admit he was a tad out of shape for raiding crop fields, so he made a pretence of objection. “I can slide through a fence as well as you, Merry.”

Still grinning, Merry replied, “We weren’t sliding through the fences other night, were we Pippin?”

“No, we weren’t, Merry,” Pippin kindly offered. Then he asked very sweetly, “Do you like dogs, Frodo?” Pippin was joking; Frodo had no way of knowing Paladin didn’t keep dogs on his farm.

“No, not greatly.” Frodo still had vivid memories of Grip and Fang in his head. “I suppose I would be of more use watching our packs and the pony.” Inwardly, he was relieved to have the task of staying behind to watch the helpful beast.

“Good! I can already see my plan laid out in my head,” said Pippin. “All I need now is a sack.”

“What will happen if you‘re caught?” Merry asked.

Pippin smirked and shrugged his shoulders, “I’m the landowner’s son--what can they possibly do to me?”