A Birthday, A Cold, A Memory and a Gift: Chapter Six

Merry returned promptly with Healer Boffins, for which Frodo was grateful. Pippin was still sleeping heavily as the two entered and Frodo hopped to his feet anxiously.

"Do you want me to wake him?" he asked.

"Do you think we should, Frodo?" Merry frowned. "You said he barely slept all night."

"Well how can the healer do an examination if Pip’s asleep?"

"I’m sure Healer Boffins can tell a lot of things just by looking at him."

"But certainly not enough as he would need to know to make a right judgement."

"But, Frodo…"

The healer interrupted the two babbling, nervous cousins by putting up his hands. "Enough," he said. "Both of you out of this room, now. I will handle this myself, thank you."

Merry’s eyes flashed briefly with anger, but Frodo’s hand upon his shoulder was calming.

"He’s right, Merry. We’re not any help just standing here and jabbering like a couple of old gammers."

Merry looked as though he were about to say something, but did not and followed Frodo reluctantly out to the parlor. Healer Boffins shut the door behind them.

~~~~

"I can’t stand this, Frodo," Merry sighed, throwing himself heavily upon the sofa, "I don’t care for waiting and not knowing and worrying. If there is to be bad news, I’d prefer to have it now."

"Well, we’re both going to have to wait a little bit longer, no matter what the news is to be." Frodo sat gingerly in an arm chair and put his feet up on the tea table. "Just have to be worried together, I’m afraid."

Merry sniffed and crossed his arms. They sat in tense silence for a while, both straining to hear any sound from the bedroom, then giving up, as neither could pick up anything. Eventually Merry spoke up.

"So, you don’t eat any more, then?"

Frodo blinked. "What?"

"Do you not eat anymore?" Merry nodded his head in Frodo’s direction. "You look terrible."

Frodo smiled wryly. "I think you’ve been spending too much time with the Bolgers."

Merry blushed and couldn’t help but smile back.

"Is she…" Frodo ran his fingers over the delicate scroll-work of the chair arm, "Is she the one, Merry?"

Merry turned crimson, but nodded seriously. "Yes."

Frodo found it hard to say anything for a moment, but then he spoke softly. "I’m glad for you."

"Thank you."

"She’s a fine lass."

"I know."

Frodo watched as Merry played with the brocade of his waistcoat and gazed thoughtfully at his feet.

"I don’t think Pippin cares for her much."

"Why do you say that?"

Merry sighed. "I’m not sure. He’s just…well, he does seem to lose a bit of enthusiasm anytime I mention her."

"Well, Pippin never has been content to share you with anybody. I believe he was even jealous of me at a time. He still won’t admit I knew you before he did."

Merry laughed, but then sobered. "I haven’t asked her yet."

"But you will."

"Yes."

"And she’ll have you."

"Do you think so?"

"Of course. And Pippin will be used to it after awhile. Especially once he gets caught up in a lass of his own."

"Have you seen the way they follow him about and make eyes at him?" Merry shook his head in wonder, "Incredible."

"Well, I just hope he finds one like his mother. Auntie Egg is the only one at the Smials with a proper head on her shoulders."

"That’s because she’s the only one who’s not a Took."

"That’s true. I suppose so long as Pippin doesn’t marry another Took, we’ll be safe."

At that moment, the bedroom door slammed and Healer Boffins stomped past the startled cousins, muttering.

"Drag me out at this hour of the morning for that and don’t even offer me a spot of tea…insufferable, absolutely insufferable…"

Frodo and Merry followed the old hobbit into the kitchen and stood bewildered as he yanked the kettle from the hearth and began to make himself a pot of tea.

"Is…is he…" Merry hesitated. Healer Boffins moved past him into the pantry and returned with a roll cake. He set it on the table, then rummaged through the cupboard until he found a plate and a knife.

"Is Pippin going to be all right?" Frodo spat out at last.

The healer glared at them and stuffed his mouth full of cake.

"Of course he is," he frowned, crumbs falling as he spoke, "Or do you think colds are fatal illnesses in these parts?"

"A cold!" Merry cried, "But are you certain?"

"Meriadoc Brandybuck. I have been a healer in Buckland since before you were even born. I tended the colds of your parents and yourself and Mister Baggins here and even old Bilbo Baggins when he was still around. Do you think I don’t know a cold when I see it?"

"But, it’s different, you see," Frodo butted in, "Pip, well, Pippin doesn’t really get colds like a normal hobbit. He just gets sick. He was sick a lot when he was younger...very sick."

"I am quite aware of Peregrin Took’s history. Healer Melko at the Smials is a good friend of mine. But I assure you, Mister Baggins, this is nothing that rest and food and tea," he gestured wildly with the kettle, "will not cure. Keep him abed for a few days and he’ll be fine. I would bet my luncheon upon it, had I been offered any."

Merry reached out his hand to the side and, finding Frodo’s, clasped it tightly in joy. Then he heaved a great sigh of relief. "I shall make you a wondrous luncheon then, one fit for someone bearing such news. Luncheon for all of us, in fact. Frodo, go see if Pippin is awake. I’m going to make him a tray."

~~~~

Frodo entered the bedroom timidly and shut the door quietly behind him. He tiptoed to the bed and peered over at his cousin who still appeared very much a lad while sleeping. He breathed through his mouth and sounded quite congested, though, now that the healer had mentioned it, it did not seem to be in a dangerous way. Then Pippin whispered something softly.

"1412."

Frodo leaned forward. "What was that, Pip?"

Pippin opened one eye and smiled at Frodo. "1412. I was twenty-two."

Frodo pulled the chair up to the bed and sat down. "And what happened when you were twenty-two?"

"Why, lots of things happened. Not too many that I remember and some I’m sure I’d rather forget, but among them was something special."

"And what was that?"

"I got a cold."

Frodo smiled painfully. It was suddenly hard to speak, but then he managed. "What’s so special about a cold?"

"Well, that’s just it. Nothing. It was only a cold."

Frodo was shocked to feel tears welling up in his eyes. He could not recall the last time he had been able to cry and he hadn’t realized until this moment how chill and lonely that absence had left him feeling. With a whimper, he put his head now on his cousin’s chest and wept.

"Oh," Pippin sat up on his elbows and looked down helplessly at him, "Oh, please don’t cry, Frodo. I certainly didn’t mean to upset you. I…I was only really speaking in jest…"

Frodo shook his head and spoke without raising his head, his voice partially muffled by the soft flannel of Pippin’s night clothes. "No. No, don’t tell me to stop, Pip dear. You can’t tell me to stop now."

"Are you angry with me?"

Frodo laughed and hiccuped, sitting up slightly. "Of course not. Quite the opposite, really."

"Is that so?" Pippin looked utterly confused.

"Yes." Frodo nodded then continued to bawl.

"I fear you’ve been spending entirely too much time cooped up in your study, Cousin." Pippin patted Frodo’s curls with bemusement. "Stepping outside for some fresh air might not hurt you once in a while. Or a trip to the pub? I haven’t heard a song from you in ages."

Frodo snuffled and sat up fully then and looked seriously into Pippin’s eyes.

"Will you promise me something?"

Pippin frowned. "That depends what it is, I guess."

"Can you promise me that you will never grow old and grim?"

"Old and grim?!"

"Yes." And Frodo thought to himself ‘like me.’

"Well, I can’t promise you not to grow old because I’ve always been told a hobbit’s not given much choice in the matter. But, grim! Whatever would the point be in becoming like that?"

"Well, sometimes it creeps up on you."

"It certainly won’t with me. I don’t know where you get these ideas, Frodo. I suspect that is the Baggins in you."

Frodo nodded and hiccuped and gave Pippin a kiss. His cousin blushed in response.

"I’m sorry. I embarrass you, don’t I, Pip?"

"I just think sometimes you forget that I am nearly full-grown."

"Yes, that’s true," Frodo sat back slowly, "I do forget. I must try not to."

Pippin looked mournful then and regretted with all his heart having complained. "Well," he began to speak, but then started to cough and could not stop.

Frodo thumped him on the back until he was eased. His fit subsided, Pippin sat in rigid silence, eyes fixed on the coverlet. Then, he jumped forward impulsively, wrapped his arms about Frodo and returned the kiss.

"You may think of me whatever you like, Cousin. You do not embarrass me and never have. I’m very lucky that you’ve always liked me so well. You know of course I feel the same, but I’m foolish and do not speak it so well."

"You speak just fine, Pippin," Frodo murmured, helping him to lay down again, "Just fine."

~~~~

Merry arrived at last with luncheon. While Healer Boffins had been coddled with food and tea and now rested comfortably in the parlor with his pipe and a bag of the Shire’s finest (courtesy of Peregrin Took, although he was unaware that Master Brandybuck had taken the liberty of making that gift on his behalf), Merry did not come alone. Estella Bolger stood at his side with a second tray of food in her arms.

"I saw Merry in town this morning and when I heard you had taken ill, I just couldn’t rest until I made sure a proper mushroom soup was in this house," She explained, "Two bachelors alone together—goodness only knows what sort of things they think it sense to keep in their kitchen."

Merry set his tray upon the night table and pulled a chair out for the hobbitess. "I invited Estella to lunch with us. I hope you don’t mind."

Pippin said nothing but Frodo smiled appreciatively. "I think that was a marvelous idea. Smells terrific, doesn’t it, Pippin?"

"I think I need to rest."

Merry took a seat on the end of the bed and reached out for a bowl and some bread. "Nonsense. Old Boffins said you need to eat and then you can rest. And you know you’re quite partial to Estella’s cooking."

"Well, who isn’t, really?" Pippin grumbled in concession, accepting a bowl of the soup. Then he remembered his manners. "Thank you."

"Ah, that’s nothing," Estella brushed the gratitude away, "Nothing but simple hospitality among neighbors. Now eat up. There’s plenty more where that came from and I don’t intend it to sit. I lugged it all the way here, I’ll not be lugging it back."

And, so, eat up they did. The three tucked into their food eagerly while Estella made sure every empty place on a plate was immediately refilled and kept up a cheerful re-telling of gossip from the previous night’s party. Merry found himself torn between participating in conversation with the lovely lass and keeping a watchful eye on his cousin. "Oh, how silly!" he would laugh or "He didn’t really say that, did he?" and in-between he would steal a careful glance at Pippin to make sure of how he was getting on.

It was during one of these quick check-ups that he noticed Pippin had stopped eating and was now playing with a paper some of the tea cakes had been wrapped in. He folded it into edges and corners in a very deliberate way so that soon the shape of a little creature was becoming visible.

Frodo saw it as well. "Do you still remember how to do that?" he marveled.

Pippin nodded.

"Ah, that’s a bird now, isn’t it?" Estella said, her keen eyes picking up the lines.

"Right," Merry leaned forward, "An eagle. Like the one you made Gandalf."

"I wonder what he ever did with it," Frodo murmured.

"I’ve still got my Beorn-Bear," Merry said, "it’s on a shelf at the Hall."

"Yes, Smaug is sits on my desk at Bag End. I see him every day."

"Well, Gandalf doesn’t have his anymore," Pippin laughed, "It flew away."

Merry frowned. "Flew away? You mean it blew away? He lost it?"

"No. It flew away. When we came back to Bag End after my camping party, Bilbo and Sam and Frodo were in the kitchen unpacking and I went looking for you, Merry, but I found Gandalf instead and he was all alone in the parlor with the windows open. I thought he wanted to be alone so I started to leave, but then he called me back. He called me ‘Peregrin Took,’ like he always has and that was terribly frightening…"

Pippin started to shiver and Frodo tucked another blanket around him. But he continued.

"So I came to him and he sat me on his knee and he told me he was very grateful for the gift and that it was a very fine one, but that it wasn’t right for him to keep it. And I became quite sad because I thought that he was going to try to give it back to me, but he didn’t."

Pippin purposely took his time reaching for the tea, pouring a new cup, stirring in sugar and then taking a prolonged sip until Merry nearly leapt out of his chair.

"Well, what did he do then?" he cried.

Pippin grinned. "Well, Merry, he took out the paper eagle from his robes and he told me to hold open my hands, so I did and he set it in them and he told me to hold very still, so I did."

"And then??"

"And then he leaned forward and whispered some words to the eagle that I couldn’t hear ."

"What did he say?"

"I just told you, Merry, that I couldn’t hear him."

Frodo rolled his eyes. "Well, what happened then, Pip?"

"Well…the bird, it became…real. Or not really real, I suppose, but it wasn’t paper anymore. Or it didn’t act like paper. But it started to move and then its wings flapped and it lifted right off from my hands and flew out the window."

"My goodness," Estella shook her head, not quite believing the tale until she saw the look of utter seriousness on Merry’s face.

"Did it ever come back?" he asked.

"No," Pippin yawned, "I never saw it again."
Estella folded her hands. "Do you think it was a trick?"

"If it was, it was a good one and I think nothing less of it."

"My goodness," Estella repeated, this time with awe.

Merry had a smile of wonder on his face, but then he seemed to shake it away and replace it with one slightly more business-like. "You’re tired now, aren’t you, Pip?"

"Just a bit," he murmured, burrowing back against his pillow, "That was a nice bowl of soup, Estella," he added, "Thank you."

Estella stood then and made her way to the bedside. She stooped and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Rest up now, Pippin Took. There’s more soup keeping warm on the hearth for when you want it, but I best be getting back now before my brother starts to worrying about his supper."

Merry exchanged a brief look of pleasure with Frodo before he left to see the Bolger lass off.

When they had gone, Pippin sighed. "I don’t expect to see old Merry back until after sunset then. He does spend frightful amounts of time saying goodbye these days though it seems a simple enough task to me."

Frodo frowned and Pippin made a face.

"Oh, all right," he sighed, "She’s a nice enough lass and a smart cook to boot. I’m sure she and Merry will have wonderful well-fed children together."

Frodo laughed. "So you give your acceptance, then? You’ll let poor Merry have his sweetheart in peace?"

"Why, I never said he couldn’t. And if it seems that way, I apologize. But I miss him, Frodo. He’s hardly around these days. And when he is all he talks about is Estella this and Estella that and dreary old Brandy Hall business. He’s in danger of becoming genuinely dull."

"Now, Pip, Merry’s been of age for several years now and you know as well as I do…"

"Yes, yes. I know Merry is expected to take a wife soon and to have responsibilities, I do. But I just…oh, I don’t know." He squinched his eyes shut in frustration.

"It’s hard to let go of the ones that you love," Frodo supplied softly.

"Yes," Pippin nodded his head firmly, then struggled to sit up on his elbows and look at Frodo with moist eyes. "Do you know what Gandalf said to me when the bird—the paper—paper bird flew away?"

"I don’t."

"He said to me, ‘Always remember, young Peregrin, if something needs to be free, you must be willing to let it go. Treasure will only tarnish in selfish keeping.’ I didn’t really know what he meant then but it’s beginning to seem quite sensible and good advice now."

Frodo found that his hands were shaking as he put his teacup gingerly on the table, so he crawled onto the bed and wrapped them around his young cousin to steady them, as well as his thumping heart. Pippin snuggled deeper into him in response and sighed.

"Rest now, Pippin, all right?"

"Mmm. I will."

They lay still for a bit in silence, but Pippin had yet to fall asleep, so Frodo decided to ask him one more question.

"Pip?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you never tell Merry or me about the bird before? It’s not like you to keep a story to yourself."

Pippin rolled over and put his nose against Frodo’s chest. "I forgot."

"You forgot?"

"I did. I’ve only really begun to remember it this past night it seems and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since."

"But how did you forget it in the first place?"

"Well, I was quite young still and it was a bit of a lost year for me to begin with, I suppose. And when I saw that all alone I didn’t know how to start to tell it to you or Merry or even my silly sisters and so I kept quiet and figured it would come out of me at some point, but then I guess I forgot I even had the secret, all these years…until now."

Frodo stroked Pippin’s curls gently and soothed him.

"It seems to me that maybe you were only meant to remember it now and I’m glad that you did. Lucky for both of us."

"What do you mean?" Pippin yawned again. "For both of us?"

"Shush, now, Pippin dear. Sleep."

For once, Pippin did as he was told. And Frodo lay still listening to the sound of his breathing, watching the sunlight play patterns over the walls, and marveling that after all he had seen there were still things in this world that could amaze him.

~~~

Frodo had fallen into a light sleep himself and how long he had slept he didn’t know, but he awoke when he found that the weight of Pippin was no longer beside him. He sat up just in time to catch his cousin creeping for the door, wrapped up in a blanket.

"Pippin!" he scolded, "Back to bed now! Whatever do you think you’re doing?"

Pippin turned to him, his face all one cheerful grin. "Can’t sneak anything past you, can I?"

"No, you cannot. Now sit back down and tell me just where you’re off to. Were you hungry? I can bring you more food."

"Oh, second luncheon would be nice. I hadn’t thought of that."

"Well, if you weren’t going to the kitchen then where were you going?"

"To my room."

"Do you prefer your own bed?"

"No," Pippin shrugged, "Yours is just as nice, if a bit short."

"What did you want in your room if not your bed?"

"My coat, thank you."

"Are you cold?"

"Goodness no. And I certainly wouldn’t sleep in my good coat if I was. That’s from the finest tailor in Tuckborough, I’ll have you know."

Frodo felt the growing exasperation that he found often accompanied conversations like this with his cousin. "What did you want with your coat, then, Pippin, and for the last time: lay down!"

Pippin scooted back onto the bed and sighed mock-pitifully. "I only wanted to give you your birthday present."

"You’re giving me your coat?" Frodo tried to mask his distaste, thinking of the hideous blue-green coat Pippin was so fond of.

"I’m sorry, Frodo, but you will have to wait until you grow into it. For now you’ll have to settle for what’s in the pockets."

"What is in the pockets?"

"Unfortunately I’m under the care of a very cruel keeper and he will not let me leave the bed so you’re just going to have to go fetch it yourself and find out."

Frodo bit his tongue to keep from muttering as he went to find the coat, which was hung lovingly on a post at the end of Pippin’s ridiculously long bed. On his way he passed Healer Boffins snoring on the parlor sofa and Merry and Estella talking animatedly in the kitchen. Fatty Bolger was certainly not getting his supper on time tonight, he thought wryly.

Much to Frodo’s surprise, Pippin was still sitting on the bed when he returned.

"Oh, good," he chirped, "You brought it. Did you peek?"

"No, for I fear I’ll find nothing but old toffees and sticky bits of lint."

Pippin laughed as he accepted the coat. "Well I hope that this is somewhat better than that."

He reached carefully into the inside breast pocket and removed a leather wallet on a string.

"There are a few things in here I don’t care to be without. Precious to me as Rings, I used to say." He unbuttoned the wallet and laid out his two pipes on the table, which Frodo recognized as the same ones Pippin had carried with him since he took up the pipeweed in his early tweens. Beside those, he laid his pouch of old Toby. Then at last, he produced two copper Shire coins, darkened with age. Placing them face-up in his palm, he held them out to Frodo.

"Pick one."

Frodo looked down at the coins, stamped with the familiar apple that marked all Hobbit coins, and shook his head. "Why do you have these?"

"For luck, I suppose." Pippin pointed to the coin on the left. "This one here is a 1390 coin. My mother saved it from the year I was born. They say it’s lucky, you know, to carry a coin with the year of your birth on it, though I don’t know how much stock I really put in the idea. I don’t even remember that year, after all."

Frodo pointed then to the coin on the right-hand side. "And why do you carry the other?"

"For luck as well. Though I do say this one’s a bit more logical. That’s a 1412."

"The year you caught a cold."

"That’s right. A cold and nothing else. And after that I wasn’t sick at all for so long. It seems that that was the lucky year for me."

"So you really want me to take one of these coins of yours, Pip? As precious to you as Rings?"

Pippin laughed. "Well, I’ve decided that one lucky coin is good enough for a hobbit. After that, one’s just being greedy. And you don’t have a lucky coin at all, do you Frodo?"

"No. I think my mother had kept one for me with my own year on it, but I don’t know what ever became of it."

"Well," Pippin’s voice became slightly more somber, "It’s a silly tradition. But if you’ll pick one, I’ll be glad for you to have it."

Frodo peered at the coins intently. "Which one should I take?"

"You may have either."

"I’ll take 1390, then. It was a very lucky year for me and I remember it well."

"Really?" Pippin questioned, handing the coin over to Frodo, who tucked it away safely in his own breast pocket. "What happened that year that was so lucky for you?"

"You silly Took," Frodo laughed, "Do you even have to ask?"

~~~~