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Postcards From the Shire  by SlightlyTookish

A/N: Pippin is 6 years old, making Bilbo 106! Frodo is 28 and Merry is 14.

A Bath-time Song

"I think," Bilbo said, watching in amusement as Frodo and Merry divested Pippin of his muddy cloak and jacket, "that I am looking upon the messiest, scruffiest and happiest lad in all the Shire."

A grin lit up Pippin's small, dirty face. "We saw lots of birds, and a big shaggy dog, and I found gifts for everyone." He dug in the pockets of his grass-stained breeches and retrieved two handfuls of oddments that Bilbo made certain to fuss over.

"This is for Frodo," Pippin began, holding up a smooth, almost perfectly round white pebble, "and this is for Merry," he added, displaying a flat grey stone, "and these are for my sisters," he continued, rattling three large acorns, "and this one is for you!"

It was a smallish rock, rough in texture and tawny in color. Bilbo plucked it out of Pippin's fingers and studied it closely.

"I thought it was gold," Pippin confessed, anxiously watching his cousin's face, "but Merry said it couldn't be, and Frodo just laughed."

Bilbo weighed the rock in his hand, considering. "I do believe it is, my lad," he concluded. "A remarkable find. The last time I saw gold of this quality was in Smaug's hoard. I thank you, Pippin, but are you certain you want to part with this? It's quite valuable. Wherever did you find it?"

"Oh, just under a hedge," Pippin said. "You can keep it, Bilbo. I can always find more." He turned to Frodo and Merry and grinned. "I knew it was gold. Let's go back and look for more!"

Frodo and Merry shared a pained glance; an afternoon spent traipsing through woods and over hills with Pippin had left them exhausted and famished. Bilbo smiled to himself. He knew the two older ones loved Pippin dearly but the child was a bundle of energy. It was no easy task to keep Pippin occupied for an entire afternoon, but by all appearances his cousins had done well.

"Perhaps tomorrow, Pippin," Frodo said at last. "If you crawl around in the dirt any more today folk will mistake you for a goblin."

"Besides, it's almost supper," Merry added sensibly. That caught the attention of Pippin's stomach, which rumbled loudly at the prospect of a nice hot meal.

"All right," Pippin acquiesced. "We can look for gold tomorrow." He started for the kitchen, but Bilbo was quicker.

"Bath first, then supper," he said firmly, taking Pippin by the hand and turning to Frodo and Merry. "There is a chicken pie cooling by the window along with some potato soup. If you lads wouldn't mind warming them up and setting the table, I'll see to Pippin's bath."

Frodo and Merry nodded and headed to the kitchen, already plotting to make some mushroom toast as an appetizer and to retrieve the apple tarts from the larder for afters. In the meantime Bilbo and Pippin made their way down the corridor.

As Bilbo heated a kettle of water and filled the bath, Pippin helped by gathering all the soaps and towels he would need – he washed his hands first, so as not to leave handprints and smudges on the clean linens – and stacked them all neatly on the shelf beside the tub.

"Do you have any more of the special bubble potion?" he asked eagerly.

"Of course! What good is a bath without bubbles?" Bilbo replied, hiding a grin. The "special potion" was nothing more than liquid soap mixed with lavender oil, something Bilbo had created himself years before when Frodo was just a small child visiting Bag End alone for the first time – a small child who was a very reluctant bather. The bubbles had kept him occupied long enough for Bilbo to wash his hair, and the soap had done a permissible job of cleaning the rest. It was such a success that Bilbo sent three bottles of it home with Frodo, and later received more than one grateful letter from Primula and Drogo in return.

A generous dose of the potion was poured into the water, and a mass of bubbles rose to the surface. Bouncing from foot to foot in excitement, Pippin quickly shed his clothes and with a loud whoop and an enormous splash he plopped into the tub.

"Sorry Bilbo," he said immediately, peering over the tub's edge at the water and bubbles pooling on the floor. “I didn’t mean to.”

"No trouble at all, my lad, no trouble at all," Bilbo said, and with his foot he mopped up the mess with a towel. "There now, it's as dry as ever." He handed a bar of soap and a cloth to Pippin. "Here, wash off some of that grime."

"Mum doesn't like it when I splash," Pippin admitted as he scrubbed at an elbow. "Neither does Da or my sisters. Or Frodo and Merry…"

"What a pity," Bilbo said, retrieving a jug from the windowsill. "I like nothing better than an enthusiastic bather. Frodo was miserable about it as a young lad; it was always a fight to get him in the water. As for Merry, well, I only had the task of bathing him a couple of times, and it was all business with him – wash behind the ears and between the toes and then out of the tub without even one good splash, that was Merry. I do appreciate a good bit of splashing – and singing – in the bath. Close your eyes for a moment, Pippin."

Pippin dutifully squeezed his eyes shut as Bilbo poured water over his head. "Do you splash and sing, Bilbo?" he asked curiously.

"Certainly!" Bilbo said. He squinted behind Pippin's ears, wondering how the child had managed to get mud there as well, and scrubbed them vigorously. "I know several bath songs, all very nice, but I do have a particular favorite."

"Will you teach it to me?" Pippin pleaded as he scooped up handfuls of bubbles and covered his arms with them. "Please Bilbo?"

Bilbo grinned and, needing no further encouragement, lathered up Pippin's curls and began to sing.

"Sing hey! for the bath at close of day
that washes the weary mud away!
A loon is he that will not sing:
O! Water Hot is a noble thing!"

Pippin giggled. "This is a funny song!"

"It gets better," Bilbo promised. He motioned for Pippin to shut his eyes again and poured another jug-full of water over his head.

"O! Sweet is the sound of falling rain,
and the brook that leaps from hill to plain;
but better than rain or rippling streams
is Water Hot that smokes and steams.

O! Water cold we may pour at need
down a thirsty throat and be glad indeed;
but better is Beer, if drink we lack,
and Water Hot poured down the back."

Pippin grinned and nodded so vigorously at "better is Beer" that Bilbo frowned, picturing Eglantine's face when her son came home singing of drink – or worse, telling his mother that Bilbo had said it was all right to let him have some beer. Well, it was too late now, Bilbo shrugged, and continued through to the end of the song.

"O! Water is fair that leaps on high
in a fountain white beneath the sky;
but never did fountain sound so sweet
as splashing Hot Water with my feet!"

At the last line Bilbo scooped his hands together and sent a stream of water high into the air, thoroughly splashing Pippin, who squealed and laughed and kicked his legs, sending a new flood of soapy water over the edge of the tub and to the floor.

"Again, again!" he cried in delight, and Bilbo laughed and began the song anew. Pippin was a fast learner of words and music, and soon he was singing and splashing along with him. In hardly any time at all every trace of mud and soap had been washed away, and good hobbit-sense ultimately prevailed before there was more water in the air and on the floor than in the tub.

"I really like your bath song, Bilbo," Pippin said as he was lifted out of the water and wrapped in a large, fluffy towel to dry. Without being asked, he retrieved the mop from the corner as Bilbo emptied the tub. "I'm going to sing it all the time now but maybe I won't splash as much." The mop was too large and awkward for him to wield properly, and he merely swished the water from side to side, making the puddle larger than it already was.

Bilbo chuckled and took the mop from him. "Run along now and put on some clean clothes. I'll finish up in here."

"And then we'll have supper?" Pippin asked hopefully.

"We certainly shall," Bilbo replied.

Pippin grinned and hugged his cousin tightly. "Thank you, Bilbo," he said, and scampered off, still wrapped snugly in his towel. As his footsteps padded down the hall Bilbo heard his high, childish voice echoing back, "Sing hey! for the bath at close of day, that washes the weary mud away…"

Bilbo half-hummed and half-sang along. "A loon is he that will not sing," he murmured as he made quick work of mopping the stone floor. "O! Water Hot is a noble thing!"

*The song is from The Fellowship of the Ring, Chapter V, "A Conspiracy Unmasked"





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