Turning Points

Chapter Three

“Insight”

“It’ll be time to leave soon. I’d like to have the opportunity to speak with Pippin before I leave. How is he this morning?” Frodo spoke quietly with Paladin in one corner of the kitchen while the happy confusion of breakfast preparations continued in the background.

“He was a bit subdued when I saw him earlier. Perhaps he just needed some time to wake up, though. He didn’t get much rest last night and neither did we,” Paladin sighed and glanced over to where Eglantine was busy supervising the meal preparation with the help of her daughters and Esmeralda. “I don’t think he was able to sleep at all after that fearsome nightmare. Tina sat with him for some time and he refused to lie down again. She even tried to entice him into our room to crawl in between us, but he rejected that idea too.” Paladin chuckled, ”He told us he was way too old for that. It’s the first time he’s ever said such a thing!”

“Hmm. He is growing up.”

“Aye, but sometimes you wouldn’t know it from the way he’s been acting lately. I suppose it is part of the process though.” Paladin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It won’t be long until he’s twenty-four. Hard to believe that much time has gone by.”

“Yes, his birthday is only a few months away.” Frodo said. “I recall that age and what an awkward time it was for me.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t really thought much about it, but Pippin is entering the time in a lad’s life when everything starts happening at once.”

“And, when everything becomes very confusing,” Frodo nodded. “Actually, that’s exactly what’s been on my mind since I noticed some of his actions recently.”

Paladin looked at his younger cousin with a twinkle in his eye. “Do you mean you think he’s starting to notice the lasses?”

“Well, he’s not that young, Pad!” Frodo said. “He was quite all right with Merry going off with Estella without him last night, but only after he found out he would be pairing up with Marigold.” Frodo smiled. “Speaking of which -I was so pleased I was able to talk the Gaffer into allowing Sam and his sister to attend the party. They rarely are able to have that kind of opportunity, and I knew they’d get such pleasure from it.”

“Yes, I’m very glad they were able to join us,” Paladin nodded and then rolled his eyes with a grin. “Ah, Marigold Gamgee! Pippin’s been fascinated with her for quite awhile. I noticed it a long time ago. Hmph, now that I think about it I seem to recall feeling an interest in lasses myself long before I ever let on to anyone!”

Frodo grinned. “Yes, it is something every lad gets around to thinking about, sooner or later. Some more quickly than others.”

“Perhaps I’m too far past that time to recall it in as much detail as you. So tell me, Frodo. Is there a particular lass you’ve got an eye on yourself?” Paladin winked.

Before Frodo could respond they were interrupted by the call to get ready for breakfast. Hobbits of every size and age seemed to appear out of nowhere. The subject of their conversation entered the kitchen at that moment and slid into a chair next to Merry.

“Pip,” his cousin hissed in his ear, “I’m saving that seat for Estella. Go sit by Freddy.” Merry pointed across the table.

“Fine.” Pippin scowled but didn’t bother protesting as he rose and walked stiffly around the long table. He tossed a look of disdain at the object of Merry’s affection as she hurried to join his cousin.

“Hullo Pip!” Fredegar Bolger looked up with a smile as Pippin scooted into the chair beside him.

Pippin muttered his greeting without looking at Freddy then put his head in his hands and frowned at his plate. Lack of sleep and the terrible dreams had left the usually cheerful lad tired and short of patience.

Furthermore, he was not looking forward to having the promised discussion with his parents later. His recent behaviour was the very last thing he wished to talk to anyone about.

He finally raised his head and gazed around, focusing on the other side of the table. His eyes wandered until they settled on Marigold’s red-gold hair as she sat quietly murmuring to her brother. Her tresses gleamed in the early morning sunlight and Pippin studied her dreamily, wondering what it would feel like to run those long curls between his fingers. His gaze travelled to her face and he smiled as she laughed at some small jest. He noticed with delight the way her eyes crinkled as she giggled, and how the dimples at the corners of her mouth deepened. Allowing his interest to focus a bit lower, he lingered on her neck, marveling at the snowy skin, imagining it to be as soft to touch as her hair surely was.

Daringly, his focus descended until he was staring helplessly at the swell of her breasts, unable to tear his eyes away. The memory of what he had witnessed Merry and Estella doing came unbidden to his mind’s eye, and a pleasurable sensation shivered through him, causing him to wriggle in his chair. Lost in his speculations, Pippin’s attention moved upward in a leisurely manner and he was jarred from his reverie as a pair of blue eyes met his, regarding him calmly. He flinched, eyes widening in alarm, feeling his face grow hot under her scrutiny.

She smiled at him pleasantly and he quickly dropped his eyes, mortified. He felt a bead of sweat forming on his brow. Warmth poured throughout his entire body, his embarrassment mixing oddly with his pleasure. He felt himself growing hard and fidgeted uncomfortably, both delighting in the feeling while desperately wishing it would go away. Pippin darted his eyes around in panic, utterly convinced everyone present noticed his body’s reaction to Marigold’s awareness. The conversation continued without interruption and he finally sighed in relief and forced himself to think of something, anything, else.

After breakfast Frodo invited him to go for a walk. Pippin looked at him curiously for a moment before trailing after him. They strolled through the meadow for a time, saying little. At last, Frodo sat, his back to resting against a tree and bid Pippin to join him. Pippin plunked down cross-legged and began toying with some blades of grass.

Frodo cleared his throat. “Pippin?” Pippin looked up, raising his brow in question. “Is something bothering you? You seem out of sorts lately. Have you had many bad dreams like the one last night?”

Pippin shrugged and placed a thick blade of grass between his thumbs and blew on it. The satisfying tweet it made caused him to smile slightly. He toyed with the blade of grass absent-mindedly as he considered Frodo’s question.

Frodo was watching him with his usual patience and for some odd reason this only served to irritate Pippin more. “Merry doesn’t have time for me anymore. All he thinks about is Estella Bolger.” The statement brought a frown to his face.

“Ah. Well, you know, Merry’s at the age where he wants to get to know the lasses a bit better. You’ll feel that way too, one of these days.”

Pippin shook his head. “No.”

“Yes, you will. Take my word for it.” Frodo gently touched his shoulder.

Pippin sighed. “I’m in trouble. I have to have a talk with Mum and Da later and I don’t want to. Because of what happened last night in the kitchen when I was rude to Auntie Esmie, after…you know.”

“After you swooned?”

Pippin nodded glumly and plucked at some tufts of grass near his feet.

“Did you really, Pip? Or did something else happen?”

Pippin’s head shot up. “Wha--what do you mean? You were the one who said I swooned!”

“I mean, are you telling us the whole truth about what happened to you?”

Pippin glanced away. He wished so much to share the unusual dreams and visions. He knew he could trust Frodo. So, why wouldn’t the words come? He swallowed hard a couple of times while his mind rushed over the events of the past few days. He grew annoyed again, yet he wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Pippin?” Frodo tried again, and this time Pippin scowled at his cousin.

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“I do believe you. I just think there’s something more to the problem than you’re telling us.” Pippin stared, stony-faced. “There is, isn’t there? Does it have anything to do with the reason you got so upset with everyone afterward? It just isn’t like you to be so snappish with your Aunt Esmie. Or with anyone, for that matter,” Frodo added softly.

“There’s nothing wrong with me!” Pippin almost shouted, coming to his feet. Frodo drew back in surprise.

“I see.” He waited quietly for Pippin to calm down.

Pippin darted a look around self-consciously, and sank back to the ground. His cheeks coloured and he studied the grass beneath his feet before looking up. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and Frodo reached over to pat his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He sighed. “I just can’t seem to do anything right lately.” Pippin fell backwards and looked up at the sky.

Frodo smiled and stretched out next to him. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Finally, Pippin said, ”I don’t like having bad dreams.”

“No one does,” Frodo agreed.

The pair fell silent once more.

“I don’t like thunderstorms, either,” Pippin finally offered.

“I know you don’t.” Frodo placed his hands underneath his head and waited patiently. His eyes tracked a bird as it flew overhead while several minutes passed. Frodo watched Pippin from the corner of his eye.

“Or lightning.”

Frodo said nothing.

“Or Merry not having time for me anymore.”

Frodo’s mouth twitched in amusement. Now they were getting somewhere.

“What else don’t you like, Pip?”

“Everything changing.”

Ah. “In what way?”

Pippin hesitated, then drew a deep breath and released it abruptly. “I…I don’t know exactly. I’m not quite certain what I mean.”

“No?” Frodo could sense the frustration in his young cousin’s words.

Pippin moved his head from side to side, continuing to stare up at the clouds drifting overhead.

Frodo rose up on his elbow. “Do you want to know what I think?” Pippin’s eyes turned to him. “I believe there have been some things happening to you that you don’t fully understand. And that perhaps frighten you a little.” Pippin did not respond, but it was obvious to Frodo that he was listening closely. “Some of these incidents are worrisome because of their nature, and cause you to feel ‘different’ than others in some way. You want to talk about it, but you don’t know how to start. You’re afraid, and more than a little confused, and somewhere inside you’re trying to convince yourself that if you don’t say anything, it may all just go away. Does that about sum it up?” Frodo watched the war of emotion on Pippin’s face as his cousin struggled with an answer.

A lone tear trickled from the corner of Pippin’s eye, as he lay completely motionless. Finally, he scrubbed his shirtsleeve across his face and sat up. “How do you know that?” He sniffed and rubbed his eyes with both hands, then gazed at Frodo in wonder.

Frodo smiled. “Because I was your age once too, you know.” He sat up and leaned against the tree again, folding his legs underneath him. “Around that time I started to have a great many, well…let’s call them unusual dreams.”

Frodo gazed off into the distance, his eyes becoming unfocused as he spoke. “I recall many times when portions of what I dreamed would turn up in strange ways the next day.” He smiled as green eyes regarded him sceptically. “I mean that I often knew what was going to be said before anyone said it. Or I knew when something was about to occur before it happened. Very odd, I know. Not something I wanted to share with anyone lest they think I’d taken leave of my senses.” Frodo noticed Pippin’s mouth had opened slightly and his eyes had widened as he listened with rapt attention.

“One time - it wasn’t long before I left Buckland to go and live with Bilbo - I knew there was going to be a fire in the parlour because some smouldering ashes had blown out of the fireplace, landing in a rug unnoticed.” Frodo’s eyes became distant again. “I saw the smoke, felt the heat. Watched as the flames licked up the walls…in my dream. It was afterwards that I came to realize what a gift the Sight could be in such instances.”

Pippin drew a sharp breath as Frodo continued without looking at him. “And the potential it possessed as a burden. It was one I did not wish to bear, but it would seem I had no choice in the matter.” Frodo paused while Pippin started to fidget. He watched his young cousin thoughtfully for a moment.

“What happened?” Pippin asked quietly.

“I was able to stop the fire before it got out of control. Thankfully, my foreknowledge and actions prevented a possible tragedy. Coincidentally, this started around the same time I began to notice lasses. I’ve often wondered if there was any particular connection. I started to be aware of a sort of…energy I suppose you might call it, that was all about me. It was a different feeling than I’d ever experienced before in my entire life.”

“The…the…Sight?” Pippin sputtered. “Like Da? And Aunt Esmie?” Frodo nodded slowly. Pippin didn’t speak for several very long moments. At last he mumbled, “I…I’ve heard them tell of it, but I never thought…”

“That you might inherit the gift?”

Pippin’s eyes clouded over and tears began to trickle down his cheeks. He leaped to his feet, suddenly angry. “NO! I don’t have any ‘gift’ and I don’t see things before they happen, and, and, and -- I don’t even like lasses!” With a sob he bolted away and ran across the meadow.

Frodo watched him, but made no move to follow. With a sigh of resignation he rose and headed back towards the farmhouse. Perhaps I shouldn’t have done that. Maybe I should have just let him talk about whatever he wanted. Frodo ruminated as he walked. No. I am certain this is what’s been happening to him and he needed to hear it. He’ll come around after a time. I know he will. And then he’ll realize he can come and talk to me whenever he’s ready.