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Lessons in Adventuring  by SlightlyTookish

“Come on, Pippin! It isn’t hard.”

“It is so, Frodo,” protested Pippin. “I just can’t do it. Besides, it’s nearly dinner!”

“Pippin, we had tea less than an hour ago.”

“Well, this sort of thing should be done in the morning.”

“I wanted to, but you said it was too early.”

“But now it’s too late. I’m tired, Frodo.”

“Yes, Frodo, whining takes a lot out of you,” Merry chimed in. “Poor Pippin must be exhausted. All he’s done this afternoon is complain.”

“I have not,” Pippin retorted indignantly.


”Have so.”

“Have not.”

“Have–”

“Enough!” cried Frodo. “Merry, look to your own work.”

“I’m trying, Frodo, but I can’t concentrate with that loud-mouthed–”

“Frodo!” squealed Pippin.

“Merry, stop it, please. For me.” Frodo pleaded. One bad-tempered cousin per day was his limit.

With an exaggerated sigh, Merry returned to his book.

Frodo turned to the youngest hobbit, who hummed as he swished his quill across the desk. “If I had known you liked dusting so much, Pippin, I would have had you help May Gamgee this morning.”

Pippin stuck out his tongue at Merry, who snickered from his place by the window.  

“Now, let’s try this again,” Frodo commanded, “And no more fooling around.”

Exhaling deeply, Pippin bent over the parchment once more. “P – e – r – e – g – r – oh, no!” he exclaimed as his wrist collided with the inkwell, spilling much of its contents onto his piece of parchment.  

Hastily, Frodo righted the bottle of ink and mopped up the mess. “Be more careful, Pippin. Bilbo will not be happy if we use up all his ink in one day.”

“I don’t see why I have to learn how to write neatly anyway,” the little hobbit grumbled, listlessly reaching for the new piece of parchment that Frodo handed to him.

“Pippin, all young gentlehobbits must learn to write nicely. You are no exception.” Frodo decided to instigate a bit of cousinly competition. “Merry learned to write his letters very well, didn’t he? I thought you would want to do the same.”

“But Merry likes to read and write,” Pippin explained. “I’d rather listen to stories. Or tell my own, of course.”

“Of course,” Frodo remarked dryly. He nudged the still-blank parchment closer to Pippin. 

With slumped shoulders, his mouth turned down at the corners, and wide eyes seeking pity, Pippin glanced first at the window, then at Merry, and then at Frodo.

This was the expression that melted Merry’s heart every time. Frodo was determined to resist it.

As always, Pippin met with success.

“Could you let Pippin have a short break?” asked Merry. “Or at least give him something better to practice with, Frodo. It does get very boring to write out one’s name over and over again.”

Stifling a laugh, Frodo watched Pippin give Merry a smile full of gratefulness and admiration. Apparently Merry had reclaimed his position as Sworn Protector of Little Hobbits Named Pippin.

“If he can manage to write his name properly, without upsetting inkwells or complaining too much, then perhaps I will let Pippin copy from one of my books for his lesson. Tomorrow,” Frodo replied smoothly.

The smile fell from Pippin’s face, despite the promise of better learning materials. Shoulders slumped once more, he began to write.

“You know, Frodo,” Pippin said after a few moments, “I won’t need to write much where I am going.”

“Pippin, you need to practice your E’s; they look too much like O’s. And what do you mean, where you are going? Are you planning a holiday that I should know about?”

“I,” Pippin informed his cousin, “will be going on adventures when I grow up. I want to see elves and dwarves, just like Cousin Bilbo did.”

“Elves and dwarves!” Merry exclaimed. “You’ve never even been to Bree.”

“I’ll go there, too. I’m going to see the whole world,” announced Pippin. He stood precariously on his chair and gestured wildly with his quill to the map pinned on the wall. “I will visit all the places on this map and no one will be able to stop me because I will be a grown-up hobbit and I won’t have to sit inside on a nice day to practice my writing!”  

A part of Pippin feared that his cousins would laugh at him. But all Merry did was gaze at him oddly, and Frodo merely smiled and said, “It seems that you will have a very busy life, Pippin. But perhaps you will want to write down all your adventures in a book, just as Bilbo is doing, and for that your writing should be neat enough for others to read. After all, few hobbits will ever see what you will.”

Pippin raised his eyebrows in thought and returned to his seat. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted.

“Well, now that you have, why don’t you try writing your name again like a good lad?” Frodo grinned as Pippin dipped his quill in the ink without the slightest hesitation.

Blissfully quiet moments passed. The only noises came from the pages turning in Merry’s book, the scratching of Pippin’s quill and the sound of Sam’s whistling as he weeded the flowers below the window.

“Very nice, Pippin,” Frodo said, looking over his cousin’s shoulder. “I look forward to reading about your adventures someday.”

Glancing up briefly, Pippin grinned at him. “You won’t have to read about them, Frodo. You’ll be there with me.”

“Oh, will I?” Frodo stole a look at Merry, who watched them over the top of his book. “Is Merry invited as well?”

“Of course!” cried Pippin, peeking up once more. “I shouldn’t like to travel alone – where is the fun in that? Both of you have to come with me. But only if you want to,” he added quickly.

Frodo could almost see the wheels turning in Merry’s head.  Smiling, Merry finally nodded and said, “Count me in.”

“Really?” Pippin exclaimed excitedly. Abandoning his quill completely now, he continued, “So now that makes three of us…Frodo, would Sam like to come? I’ll let him if he wants to.”

Frodo smiled as the whistling outside the window ceased abruptly. “You will have to ask him, Pippin,” he replied. “I know that Sam is interested in elves, so he might agree to leave the Shire if you promise he will see them.”

“Then Sam will definitely go, because I want to see elves, too. Oh, this is good news! Now we’ll be sure to have a great cook along with us.” Pippin rested his chin in his hand. “I wonder if Cousin Bilbo will come.”

“I think old Bilbo will sit this one out,” announced the hobbit himself, stepping into the room. “Chasing after four young hobbits in and around this hole is enough work for me. And what are you lads doing indoors in such fine weather? The summer is nearly over; you should go outside and make the most of the sunshine while it lasts.”

“I said it was too nice to stay inside with books, but no one listened to me,” Pippin declared, shaking his head.  He hopped down from his chair and smiled up at the elderly hobbit, “Are you sure you don’t want to come on the adventure I’m planning, Cousin Bilbo? There’s plenty of room for you, and I’ll even let you spread your bedroll next to mine if you want.”

Kneeling so he was eye level with the small hobbit, Bilbo replied, “That’s very good of you, Pippin, but I think this sounds like a nice holiday for youngsters, not a silly old hobbit like me. Besides, someone must stay behind so there will be a hot meal ready when you return, right?”

Pippin nodded eagerly.

Straightening up, Bilbo laughed and ruffled his young cousin’s hair. “Now, outside with you! Take your cousins and work on your adventure. And when you see young Samwise – he should be crouching underneath that window, if I were to guess – invite him to stay for dinner.”

“Yes, Cousin Bilbo!” Pippin cried as he barreled out of the room, with Merry at his side.

Shaking his head, Frodo gathered the forgotten remnants of Pippin’s lesson. “You, Uncle, set a very bad example for impressionable young hobbits.”

“And yet I have no effect on you,” Bilbo replied with a grin. He fell silent, patting absently at his pockets. After a moment he smiled again and reached for the stack of parchment in Frodo’s hands. “Go on outside, my boy. Plan that adventure.”

As Frodo opened the front door he heard Merry and Pippin laughing and shouting, and Sam yelling something about the hedges being trampled.

An adventure with those three? Frodo smiled at the thought. Perhaps if the situation presented itself he would take a cue from Bilbo and stay behind as well.





        

        

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