CHAPTER 10

By the time they had walked all the way back to Bag End, it was very late indeed.

Sam gave Pippin his bedroll, which he had carried for him after they had retrieved it and his pack from the loft. Then the gardener made his own way to Bagshot Row. Frodo unlocked the door (a habit which he retained from Bilbo, and from his Buckland youth) and they entered the darkened front hall. He lit candles that stood on a table to the left of the door, and handed one to Pippin and one to Menelcar, while keeping one for himself.

“I know you’re tired, Pippin, but we need to talk. Please wait for me in my study.” Frodo’s tone was mild but firm. “I’ll be there as soon as I show Menelcar to his room.”

Pippin nodded and went into the book-lined room where Frodo spent most of his time. He lit the lamps. Then he paced about the room restlessly, looking at the books on the shelves. Pausing in front of one shelf filled with tomes lettered in Elvish, in Bilbo’s or Frodo’s distinctive hands, he rubbed his left foot behind his right nervously. Frodo had never been this serious and stern with him before. For once, Pippin did not know what to expect from him.

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Holding the candle aloft, Frodo led Menelcar down the passageway to a round door somewhat larger than the others.

“Here we are,” he said. “This is the room that the Wizard, Gandalf the Grey, uses when he comes to visit the Shire. I cannot imagine he would object to your using it in his absence.” He opened the door. “Watch yourself; there are steps here.”

Menelcar found himself looking into a high ceilinged room with a large Man-sized bed and chair, and several shelves and hooks on the walls. So this room was sometimes used by Gandalf the Grey. Amazing. He turned, with the candle in his hand and thanked his host.

Frodo smiled. “You’re welcome. It’s been nearly six years since Gandalf was last here, so I think it is about time it had someone to use it. I put water in the ewer before I headed down to The Dragon tonight, as well as putting out fresh soap and towels and linen on the bed. If there is anything else you need, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” He gave Menelcar a nod, and then went back down the passage.

The minstrel turned back to the room, and gazed longingly at the bed. He had not slept in a bed since Bree, when the innkeeper at The Prancing Pony had put him up. And he had to share that one with a tinker. He’d not had a bed to himself since--Rohan the last time? That marshal in the Eastfold had guested him. The Rohirrim were always respectful of bards. That had been a few years ago.

Well, as much as he wanted just to drop into the bed, he was first going to take advantage of the water and the wash basin.

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“Pippin.”

Pippin jumped as if stung. He had been waiting for Frodo, yet it was a measure of his apprehension that he was still startled by his cousin’s voice.

He turned. “Well.” He spoke flatly.

“Sit down, love.” Frodo himself sat in his armchair by the fireplace, and Pippin sat on the footstool in front of him, looking up with his heart in his eyes.

Frodo sighed, and shook his head. “Shall I ask you what you were thinking, when you decided you would take off like this? Or did you think at all?”

“I *did* think, Frodo. I had almost decided not to go, but then--” tears welled up in his green eyes, and he explained the scene with his father. “He expects so much out of me. I *don’t* want to be Thain. I don’t want to tell other people what to do. I don’t--” his voice faltered “I don’t--” suddenly he burst into sobs, and launched himself into Frodo’s arms. Frodo let him cry for a while, patting him on the back, and making soothing sounds.

Finally, he said “Now Pip, tell me what it is that *really* bothers you about the idea of being Thain.”

Pippin’s face went white. He had never said it out loud before. He was almost afraid that if he said it out loud, it would make it happen. “For me to become Thain--” he shuddered, and then went on in a rush, “then Father would be *dead*!” There. He had said it. He put his hand over his mouth and swallowed his bile. The idea made him feel sick.

“Oh, Pip!” Frodo smoothed the coppery curls away from his brow. “That is the usual way of things, although, you know Ferumbras lived for a good long time after your father took office.” In fact, the old Thain had finally succumbed earlier that year, nearly ten years after he had bid the job good-bye.

“Yes, but he was miserable and sick for years, and that’s almost as bad as being dead! Why is Father in such a hurry for me to be Thain? Does he *want* to die?” This was his true terror--that being Thain was such a horrible job that his father wanted to die just to get out of it.

“Pippin, he is not in a hurry for you to be Thain. Hopefully, it will be years and years before he dies. But there is no way to be certain,” and Frodo’s blue eyes also clouded with pain. Pippin was suddenly reminded of how Frodo’s own parents had been snatched away so untimely . He’d never known them--they’d been dead for so many years before Pippin came along, that he sometimes forgot that Frodo had had a different life altogether long ago.

“Your father wants you to be prepared, is all. He doesn’t want you to flounder in uncertainty when the time comes. Do you remember the year your father became Thain?”

A faint smile illuminated the lad’s face. “I spent almost the entire year in Buckland. It was very nice.” He had been fifteen at the time, and a year in Merry’s company had been a true delight.

“It wasn’t very nice for your father. I know that he wanted you children out of the way while he dealt with all the unpleasantness involved when he took office. No one, I think, besides your father and mother, really knows the details of that time, but it was very uncomfortable. I think perhaps you should try asking him about it sometime. He does not want the job to catch you by surprise, and he wants you to begin to take the responsibilities involved seriously.”

“But I’m useless. I’m no good at telling people what to do. And I’m always making trouble. Why doesn’t he just forget about me and let Cousin Reggie have the job?”

“What makes you think Cousin Reggie wants the job either?”

That thought completely silenced the tweenager.

Frodo continued. “And what makes you say you are useless?”

“Oh, Frodo, you know I’m not that good at lessons. And I’m not clever like Merry about making things work, and planning and such.”

“You’re young yet, Pippin. You still have a lot to learn. But you are very good at a great many things. Look at how you had that crowd in the palm of your hand tonight!”

He smiled. “But you see, Frodo, that *is* what I’m good at! I thought that I could be a bard, and be a good one! And then people would like me because I could *do* something, and not just because I’m the son of the Thain and the baby of the family.”

“You know, I think that you would indeed make a good bard, and Menelcar obviously thought so, too. But sadly, that is not for you. You have a duty, however you may mislike it, to your family and the Shire. And even if you had no duty to be Thain, think how we all would miss you, Pippin-lad, especially Merry.”

“Merry doesn’t need me,” said Pippin sadly. “Father said I couldn’t go to Buckland because I’d be a burden to Merry, and he would be distracted from his duties by having to be my nurse-maid.”

Frodo, who had been feeling rather sorry for Paladin up until this point, felt a flare of anger. How dare Pippin’s father try to make his son doubt the bond between him and his cousin! “Let me show you something, Pip.” He eased the lad back down to the footstool and went over to his desk, where he took up his letter from Merry. “I got this letter from Merry just this morning. Read it please.”

Pippin took the letter with trembling fingers, and unfolded it. He read for a few minutes, and then gave a little gasp. Finally he stopped reading and looked up at Frodo. “Oh, my poor Merry!”

“Now, do you still think he doesn’t need you?”

Pippin shook his head, and read the letter again. “He’s going to make himself sick worrying about this silly ferry thing.”

“That’s because he has no one to take his mind off it.” Frodo gave Pippin a meaningful look.

Pippin looked up at his cousin again, tears once more threatening, but not for himself, this time. He shook his head sadly. “Father said I can’t go to him. He’ll be even angrier than ever.”

“Let me handle it, Pip. In the meantime, I’m asking Menelcar to spend a few days here, so that he can finish copying out Bilbo’s songs. He’s going to need some help with that job. I think you can do that.”

Pippin grimaced. He detested copying things out. But if it would help Menelcar, he guessed it wouldn’t be so bad. And it would give them some more time together. He hated the thought of losing his new friend so soon. He heaved a great sigh, and then yawned.

Frodo chuckled. “I think you are tired. You know where your room is. I didn’t have a chance to make it up for you, but you also know where the linens are. Off with you now and get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day.”

Pippin stood up and gave Frodo a little kiss on the cheek before taking himself off, candle in hand.

Frodo remained in the study for a few minutes. He had a letter to write to Pippin’s father. He should do that tonight, so that it could go out in the morning post. He hoped that Paladin would believe him, and not just think him a meddler. He couldn’t just take Pippin home this time; it had only been chance, if chance you could call it, that he had discovered the lad’s plans. If Menelcar had not come to him about Bilbo, the two of them might already be on the road out of the Shire. Frodo felt a chill run down his spine at the thought.

And until some of these ideas Pippin had were dealt with, there was always the chance that the *next* time he would be gone before anyone knew.

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Paladin looked up thoughtfully from the letter that had just arrived from Bag End.

My dear Paladin--

As you no doubt know, your youngest has turned up at my hole again. I must tell you that he is far more agitated than usual this time, and there are other circumstances that I will be explaining to you in person later.

Suffice it to say that I do not think it wise to simply return him home this time. He might run off again, and not to me or to Meriadoc. That would be disastrous. Trust me when I say that this is a distinct possibility, and one that should be avoided.

I am asking you to allow me to take him on to Buckland. He needs to spend some time with Merry, and it will be good for Merry as well. Merry has become far too obsessed with his new duties for his own good.

I’ve given Pip a bit of a chore as a penance for his ill-thought-out behavior, and when that is done, I will escort him to Brandy Hall.

Please do not think I am sticking my nose into your business. I hope you realize I have only Pip’s best interest at heart.

Give my regards to Cousin Tina, and assure her I will take utmost care of her lad.

Your devoted cousin,

Frodo Baggins

Paladin sighed. He had allowed this to happen, allowed Pippin the option of foisting himself off on Frodo. So now if Frodo deemed this the best course of action, he supposed he would have to trust him. It stuck in his craw a bit, but that was his Tookish pride rearing it’s ugly head.

He took up a quill and began to write his response.

“My dear Frodo--

If you think it best to take the young scapegrace to Buckland, I will trust your judgment-- ”