Chapter Ten: Monsters Under the Bed

Pippin blinked sleepily as the bed shook with Merry’s getting-up movements. His cousin had taken to sleeping with him this summer, in case they needed to take him somewhere during the night, Pippin supposed. Merry hadn’t been happy the first time Pip bit him on the arm in order to waken his cousin to carry him to the privy, though. It hadn’t been a very *hard* bite, but still, he’d learned to nibble a bit more gently now.

When he was awake, Pippin’s signal for this was to purse his lips and blink rapidly and nonstop until someone took action. He thought this was a vast improvement over the nappies he found they’d put on him those first days he could remember. Nappies! Uggh! Those were for babies, not big hobbit lads.

Merry was always very good about taking Pippin to the privy first thing in the morning, but then he often deposited his young cousin back in the bed while he spent his own time in there. Sometimes Pippin heard odd noises coming from Merry, like gurgling, or snatches of singing. It was very curious, and Pippin wanted to ask if this was something everyone did at Brandy Hall. He didn’t remember it from his visits, but those were usually at festival times, and perhaps they were distracted by other things. But, of course, he couldn’t ask.

He sighed in frustration as he waited for Merry to come back and dress him for breakfast. Pippin crossed his eyes just to see what the embroidered edging on his pillow would look like that way, and then uncrossed them again as he realized that it was just the same as yesterday.

He heard someone come in through the hallway door behind him, but of course he couldn’t turn to look. Probably Mama; maybe she wasn’t still in the quarters as he’d thought, but had gone down to the kitchens to deal with something.

It wasn’t Mama who appeared at the side of his bed on quiet hobbit feet, though. Pippin blinked in surprise to see his cousin Regi standing there and giving him a critical look.

“Well, hullo there, Pip,” Regi whispered as he leaned over the bed. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

This was odd, as Pippin generally didn’t see Regi all that much anyway. Even though Regi spent a lot of time with Pippin’s da, Pippin was usually somewhere else. He merely blinked again at his cousin.

Regi was leaning very close now, so that his face was right next to Pippin’s. “I’ll bet you’re bored, just lying there all day,” he said in a whisper that blew his hot breath across Pippin’s face. “How’d you like to have some fun and play a trick on all of them?”

It was possible to see a faint line on Pippin’s brow as he attempted to furl it in confusion. Regi was quick, though, to slide his arms under the lad in the bed and lift him out. He straightened, glanced quickly at the doorways, and then dropped to a crouch in order to slide Pippin under the bed as far as his arms could reach.

As Regi stood up again with empty arms, he quickly smoothed his clothing, then glanced at the doorways once more before striding out into the corridor. He was supposed to meet Paddin so they could leave for a full day’s worth of fieldwork.

When Merry returned to the bedroom to find his cousin gone, he guessed that his aunt must have taken Pippin to breakfast already. He didn’t see either one of them as he grabbed his own meal, but breakfast in Uncle Paddin’s quarters was always an informal meal at which you served yourself, when you arrived, from the food laid out. They’d probably already eaten and were off somewhere. It shouldn’t be surprising, really, that the rest of his family wanted to spend time with Pippin, too.

When Eglantine and Merry both caught sight of each other walking toward the table for second breakfast, and neither one was carrying the small hobbit that each expected to be propped against the other’s shoulder, however, things began to be uneasy.

By the time the family convened for elevenses, every one of them had been consulted on Pippin’s whereabouts, but they were no closer to finding him. Snacks were hurriedly snatched, and Eglantine sent servants scurrying to scour the Smials. She was beginning to regret having sent the children’s Nurse off on a summer holiday of her own, thinking that the good care of family was what was needed at this time.

Eg was too preoccupied with worry to place any blame on Merry. Judging from his stricken expression as he quizzed any hobbit coming through the corridors, he was doing enough of that himself.

At luncheon time, Eg did not stop the servants who carried pails of drink and tins of food to the hobbits mowing the year’s third cutting of hay in the fields, but she did not send a message to Paladin, either. In some situations, Paladin was wonderfully effective. This was not one of them. It would take at least an hour to convince him that Pippin had not suddenly fully recovered and walked away on his own. Pad was expecting that sort of thing any day now, as he did each time the lad fell ill. And, once he’d been convinced that someone had to have moved his son, no one would be able to stop Pad from forcing Rumby to call a full Shiremoot. Immediately. Putting to a trial every hobbit who’d so much as walked in Tuckborough in the preceding month, until his son was found.

Of course, Eg thought as she flung herself down on her back along the length of her son’s bed, the last place he’d been seen, this was starting to look like a situation where it would be necessary to put hobbits to a trial.

* * *Play a trick? That might be fun -- what? Why are you putting me under the bed, Regi? Oh, is this the trick? That’s a good one! No one will think to look for me, here, until you tell them, Regi!

Only, I hope you tell them soon, because I think I can smell breakfast, and I’m hungry!

Oh, there’s Merry’s feet. Guess he’s done singing now, and has come to get me for breakfast. Oh! But...but...he’s leaving again? Why didn’t you tell Merry, Regi? He’d be the funnest to play a trick on! I think...I think Mama might not like this trick too much.

Hunh? That’s funny, my pillow wasn’t so hard before. Oh, that’s right. I’m not in my bed; I’m under it. It’ll be a funny trick. Won’t it? I must’ve fallen asleep again.

Were Pimpernel and Pervinca just talking in the corridor about second breakfast? Second breakfast! I didn’t get first breakfast! I’m hungry! Maybe this isn’t such a funny trick. Mama! Mama! Merry? You can find me now.* * *

Yes, Eg thought as she lay with her arm across her face, there was a hobbit somewhere in the Smials who deserved to be put to a trial. She remembered the arrow one of the servants had found tucked into a corner of Pippin’s room as they were cleaning. When she’d brought it to the lad’s parents, Pad had dismissed it as unimportant. Merry probably put it there so he could teach the lad about archery later, he’d said. Eglantine had found it more troubling then, and, now that her son had gone missing, she wondered if it had been some sort of threat.

But from whom? That was the trouble with the Smials: so many hobbits! She suspected, from the way Pippin closed his eyes, as if trying to hide, whenever they were among a crowd, that he was finding the number of hobbits around him a bit overwhelming these days.

But now, to think of one of them actually threatening her baby! Who could you trust? Was it one of the farflung cousins visiting various branches of the family this summer? Was it one of the servants? It would have been easy for one of them to plant the arrow as they cleaned the lad’s room, which was a task done thoroughly every other day. Wipe the windowsill, clean in all the corners, sweep any dust from under the bed -- Eg wanted her son’s room spotless, to keep away the disease that dirt brought with it.

Evidently, no cleaning had been scheduled for today, as the bedclothes were still in disarray. Unless -- Eg sat bolt upright, clutching her hand to her heart -- what if it was the servant scheduled to clean who’d stolen her son? And done what him, she couldn’t imagine. Eg felt a sudden pang that her efforts to protect the inhabitants of the Smials from Pad’s exuberances had backfired. He wouldn’t have been overreacting in this case; it was she who had not reacted quickly enough!

Eglantine lurched herself off the bed, grabbing Pippin’s pillow on the way. It still smelt faintly of him, and Eg held it briefly to her face as she strode toward the door. As she reached the corridor, Eg readjusted her grip on the pillow so that she was cradling it in her arms, as if she were carrying her son himself. Then the Mistress of the Smials set off to rouse Thain Ferumbras to call Paddin and Regi back from the fields. There would be a Shiremoot. The borders of Tookland would be sealed. Whatever was necessary.


As Eglantine shifted on the bed and then launched herself off it, the ropes supporting the mattress from underneath lost some of their tension and eased back into their accustomed place. The weight of the full-grown hobbitess had previously depressed the bedding enough so that the ropes and the bottom of the mattress were resting snugly on top of the small body under the bed, pinning him to the floor. As the mattress settled back into its normal weight distribution, the decreasing bulge shunted Pippin to the side. He was closer now to the edge of the bed than to the middle.

* * *Why isn’t anybody finding me? *I’m hungry!* Mama! Mama!

I hear lots of voices, and lots of hobbit feet are going by. Is something bad happening? Is it scary like all those hobbits in the corridor that day after they threw rocks at me?

I don’t wanna play a trick anymore! I wanna come out.* * *

Pippin exerted all his effort into getting his body to move. On the fifth attempt, he thought he could feel the fingers of his right hand twitch, but he was sweaty and exhausted and fell briefly back asleep.

* * *Hnngh? Oh. Still here. No, no, no! Regi’s a bad, bad hobbit! I don’t wanna play with you no more! How long? Is it nighttime yet? There’s monsters under the bed at night! Is that -- is that dark patch a monster? Mama! Merry! Da! Aunt Essie!

Oh...silly. That’s a shadow where the comforter’s hanging down. But -- but maybe that’s where the monsters hide at night! (Sob.) Why won’t anybody find me?

...Mama! Mama’s coming into my room. MAMA! MAMA! MA-oof. mama? why are you squishing me? don’t you know i’m here? why won’t you say anything? don’t you want to find me?

No! No, Mama, don’t leave! I’ll be good--I--I...Come back!* * *

Again, Pippin drew upon all his reserves of strength. This time, he focused on trying to talk. He was rewarded with his voice making the faintest vibration of an “mmm” sound -- just as he heard Eglantine’s footsteps pick up speed in the corridor.


Merry sank wearily down to sit on the edge of Pippin’s bed. How could he have lost his little cousin? He’d promised to be so careful, and he’d tried, really he’d tried! But somewhere in the Smials there was a bad, bad hobbit! How could they not bring a little lad like that back to his mother, when everyone had to know by now that she wanted him?

The last he’d seen Aunt Eg, she was clutching Pippin’s pillow to her as if it was all she had left. Perhaps she’d be driven mad, if Pippin stayed missing, and that would all be Merry’s fault, too!

Merry sighed and readjusted his weight, the mattress and its rope supports moving with him.

Maybe he should go back to Buckland. He’d be less of a bother there. Obviously, it wasn’t as if Pippin needed him.

* * *Merry! Merry’s foot! Merry’s feet! Stay put, Merry! Don’t leave! I’ll try -- I’ll try again.* * *

Merry leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, staring down as he idly scuffed his toes along the floorboards. It was nearly teatime, he thought morosely. He hoped whoever had taken Pip had remembered to feed the little hobbit.

* * *Big as -- strong as -- the Bullroarer. Gonna be Thain; be big, strong hobbit. Da says. Merry says. No, don’t look at dark, at monsters. Can’t catch you if you don’t look. Look at Merry’s feet. Try -- try -- one, two, three!* * *

Merry stopped moving his foot suddenly, as he thought he’d heard a faint whirr of noise. It was coming from -- under the bed?

He leaned over, and attempted to scoot his feet apart. One of them seemed to be caught on something that was offering a slight resistance. When Merry had his head between his knees, he gave a start, then began taking deep breaths. He was staring into the face of a small hobbit wearing the same nightshirt he’d had on that morning. Pippin’s cheeks were streaked with tear tracks, and more were running down his face. His right hand had a loose grip around Merry’s ankle.

Merry twisted immediately and hauled the lad out from under the bed and into his arms. Pip was crying harder now, huffing out great breaths as tears gullied down his face. The loose, uncoordinated grasp of his right hand now clutched at Merry’s shirt. In between his sobs, he alternated the motions he made with his mouth.

At times, he would leave it hanging open expectantly in a pathetic plea for food. The other times, he closed his lips and uttered the first noise of speech they’d heard from him in months, and he uttered it over and over: “Mmm! Mmm!”