Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. I don't own
these characters. This story is not meant to violate the rights held
by New Line, Tolkien Enterprises, nor any other licensee, nor is any
disrespect intended.

A Promise from Pippin

By Larrkin

Merry, Sam and I strolled along the path, making our way up to what we hobbits liked to call the Monstrous Big Waterfall. I think Sam actually named it that. But it was monstrous big, the biggest in Rivendell, and we liked going there to pitch stones into the pool below and feel the tingly spray on our faces and lie back on the sweet grass, listening to the sound of the falling waters.

“Frodo! Frodo! Help! You’ve got to do something!”

We all turned to see a frantic-looking Pippin barreling up the path behind us.

“What is it now, Pip?” Merry asked, suitably unperturbed.

Pippin was always finding something to get too worked up over. But this time I felt fairly certain I knew why he was so upset. If this was about what I feared it was about he was justifiably wrought-up.

“Elrond!” He gasped. “I heard he and Gandalf talking about leaving me behind! Not letting me go on The Quest! And I heard that Strider was in on it, too, and he agreed!”

“Where’d you hear that?” Merry inquired, still nonchalant.

“What does it matter where?” Pippin shot back, his eyes glittering dangerously. “Frodo, you’ve got to talk to them! You’ve got to do something! I won’t be left behind!”

“It matters where you heard it because it might not be true, you Took,” Merry replied. “You could be getting yourself all worked up for noth--”

“I tell you it is true!” Pippin fumed. He glared at Merry, clearly furious to be confronted with calm reasoning at such a time.

Sam now intervened, “Pippin for all you know--”

“It is true,” I said, instantly regretting having to be the one to say it and face the three expressions of shock fired my way.

Aragorn had spoken to me about this earlier that morning and I’d been just as upset as Pippin and the others were now. He’d sat on the side of my bed and taken my hands, drawing me over to stand between his knees so he could look directly at me while he spoke.

“Elrond and Gandalf are both concerned that Pippin is too young and too impulsive to join us in the quest,” he’d said in his quiet, reasonable tone. At my gasp, he added, “He simply isn’t mature enough. It would be risky taking him along. Gandalf of course knows Pippin far too well, and when I told them of how he blurted out your name at the Inn and nearly gave everything away--”

“Why did you tell them that? I was to blame for that ruckus in Bree!” I’d snapped, knowing that it wasn’t entirely true. “I’m the one who blundered with the Ring. Pippin doesn’t deserve to be punished for that. I hadn’t even told him that he shouldn’t mention my name to anyone, so how was he to know?”

“Perhaps you hadn’t told him not to reveal your name, but even so, would you have done such a thing, Frodo? Or Sam or Merry? Would you have talked about who you were out in the open like that, answer a stranger’s questions?” Aragorn asked. “No. You three know better.”

“That’s not so! We’d all have done it! Any one of us!” I shot back, again knowing I wasn’t being truthful.

“Frodo.” Aragorn grew quiet. He watched me for a long moment, speaking silently with his calm and patient gaze. “I am not saying this to be cruel. I know how devoted you are to your kinfolk. I know how difficult it would be for all of you to leave Pippin behind. But he will be well cared for, and he will be taken home to The Shire.”

I thought of Pippin at the Council, rushing forward with Merry, facing down Elrond’s frightening glare without a flinch and telling the Lord of Imladris what was what, firmly stating his intention to come with us and confidently blathering about needing people of intelligence on this . . . thing. Then his overjoyed little face when Elrond announced us to be The Fellowship of The Ring. My eyes began to sting with oncoming tears.

“Aragorn, please,” I said, trying to calm my emotions. “I beg you, do not do this. You don’t know Pip as I do. He’d be crushed if we left him behind. I couldn’t do it to him. I couldn’t! And besides, he’d most likely follow us on his own.”

Aragorn grinned sadly at my empty forewarning. “I think not. He will be watched every minute and very likely returned quickly to The Shire with a party of elves who would have no trouble controlling one little hobbit. Glorfindel will be undertaking a journey that way quite soon, and he is quite capable of dealing with Pippin.”

It sounded as if all had been decided already! “But--”

“It is for your protection, Frodo.”

I pulled away from his grasp. “Well, I refuse to accept such so-called protection! The price is too dear! I am the Ringbearer! I say who goes and who stays!”

With his astonishing quickness Aragorn snatched me up and pulled me onto his lap—right side up. “You will settle down and listen to me Frodo or I will flip you over and we will continue our talk with you bottom-up over my lap. And I can assure you, you will not like it.”

I closed my eyes and summoned patience.

“Look at me, Frodo.”

I obeyed and saw only understanding in Aragorn’s eyes. “Yes, as Ringbearer, your say in this is final. But you must listen to reason. This is for Pippin’s protection as well. His lack of restraint could get him killed. In your heart you know this is for the best. Pippin is very young and impetuous. He often doesn’t stop to consider the consequences of his actions.”

“But neither do I,” I said, thinking again of the Council and how my impulsive act landed me in the position of Ringbearer. “I am just as impetuous, Aragorn. We all are at times. Everyone at the Council that day was impetuous, jumping up and bickering!”

Aragorn sighed.

“I know Pippin is foolhardy at times,” I rushed on. “But he is also unfailingly loyal and brave, much more brave than I am. He doesn’t shirk from danger. He has a big heart, Aragorn, and a devoted spirit, and . . . and he is my little cousin. How can I leave him behind?”

“You can do it for his own good.”

“A poor argument!” I replied, knowing that my temper was leading me onto shaky ground. “If I thought for a moment that this would be for his own good I’d agree with you, but it is not. Leaving him behind would be more of a convenience for you and Gandalf, one less bothersome halfling to worry about.”

Aragorn’s frown deepened. “Frodo--”

“To say that this is for his own good is to hide your purpose beneath a false cloak. You do not know what is best for Pippin, Aragorn. I do!”

I fully expected to find myself face down at any moment, but Aragorn simply studied me quietly. I suppose he was letting me get it all out before he took action. I did feel slightly out of control, so I paused, dropping my gaze, searching for something that might influence him, make him see . . . .

After a moment’s reflection I turned my most appealing look upon him and said, “You said something about this being for my own good. Well, it would not be good for me to be without Pippin. I would worry about him, and so would Merry and Sam.

“I need Pippin with me. It’s as simple as that. I need his cheerful little heart and his silly giggle and his loving smile. I need to hear his sweet voice singing our songs from the Shire, reminding me of home, and of who we are. And I need his playful wickedness and his careless, outspoken manner that makes Merry roll his eyes.” He grinned at that, as did I. “Don’t you see, Aragorn? Pippin is a part of me, like Sam and Merry, a part of the four of us. We all need him.”

Aragorn looked thoughtful. “My heart tells me we will regret allowing him to come.”

“I will talk to him,” I said quickly, suddenly hopeful. “I will impress upon him that what he did at the Inn was wrong and dangerous, and I will make certain that he understands what is expected of him as a trusted member of the Fellowship.”

Aragorn raised his brows at me. “Indeed? And how will you do that, Mister Underhill?"

I lifted my chin and replied with dignity, “As I always have, Strider. Most effectively.”

Aragorn had grinned and said that he would speak to Elrond and Gandalf, but that I would needs deal with my cousin “most effectively.” I promised that I would, and a promise is sacred to a hobbit.

I now watched Pippin react to my statement, his eyes widening in horror. “I knew it. I knew it! They want to leave me behind!”

“Frodo, is that true?” Merry asked, frowning.

“Yes.”

Merry and Sam looked utterly miserable. “Oh, no, Mister Frodo,” Sam said under his breath. His sad gaze fell on Pip. “Oh, no.”

“But we can’t leave him behind,” Merry said with a dark frown, as if the object of his concern wasn’t standing right there.

Pippin meanwhile looked ready to either burst into tears or go tear the head off whoever dared suggest this dastardly plan. Actually, he looked ready to do both.

“You’ve got to do something!” he exploded at me. “Right now! Talk to them! You’re the Ringbearer! It’s your decision they have to honor! So go tell them what’s what! Tell them you refuse to leave without me! Tell them that if I don’t go, you don’t go!”

I’d had just about enough of Pippin’s carrying on. Most likely we wouldn’t have to go tell anyone anything since all of Rivendell had probably heard his roars. I stood with my hands in my pockets gazing evenly at him. Of course he was panicking. I understood that. But Pip obviously didn’t realize that he was his own worst enemy when he indulged this kind of madly incautious behavior, and that every time he did he strengthened the case against him. Merry noticed my reaction right away, even though Pippin was too wrapped in his own frenzy to heed my growing irritation with him.

“Pip, let Frodo handle this,” he said in a hushed voice. “Calm down.”

“Calm down?” Pip bellowed. “Would you be calm? No! But it’s not you they’re planning to leave behind like some infant! So don’t tell me to calm down! You’re already going, so what do you care?”

Merry blinked in shock. “Pippin!”

“I think I’ve a right to be upset! And a little more loyalty and support from you would be nice, thank you very much, Master Brandybuck!”

“Pip!” Sam now exclaimed. He gazed at the hotheaded Took in astonishment then shot me an exasperated look. Merry eyes had grown wide with hurt. And Pip stood there, blind to anyone’s feelings but his own, fists clenched as if ready to throw a swing and scowling at me, presumably because I wasn’t instantly running off to obey his commands.

I turned a kindly look to Merry and Sam. “Why don’t you two go on to the falls. Maybe we’ll join you later. I need to deal with this now.”

“Yes!” Pippin exclaimed, clearly having no idea what I meant by ‘deal with this.’

Merry and Sam didn’t take much convincing. I watched them turn and head down the path together, Sam putting his arm around Merry’s rather stooped shoulders. Pip watched them, too, clearly now aware of the results of his behavior, shadows of regret softening his gaze. He glanced quickly at me.

“I didn’t mean to snap at Merry like that,” he said, sounding more like himself. “I’ll go apologize to him.”

He took a step after them, but I caught his arm and held him back. “You will indeed apologize to him,” I said. “But not right now. Let Merry be. Sam is with him.”

Pippin’s eyes grew wide at my determined tone. “But--”

“Let’s go back to my chamber and discuss this, Pip.” I began pulling him with me back toward Elrond’s house.

He shook off my hand and fell into step beside me. “Alright, but shouldn’t we go find Gandalf and Aragorn first?”

“We will, after we talk.”

“No. We need to find them right now, straighten them out before they start going about finding someone else to fill my spot!”

I stopped dead in my tracks. When Pip paused and turned a surprised look upon me, I quietly said, “We talk first, or I will not go to the others about anything.”

My cousin looked ready to throw one of his legendary tantrums. Of course he was anxious to settle this matter, but he also knew me, and he knew that once I’d decided something there was no changing my mind with displays of temper. He’d already indulged one little fit, so treating me to another would do him no good. I waited.

To my surprise, Pippin drew a deep breath then nodded. “Oh, very well. If we must, we must. But, please, let’s hurry.”

He fairly danced with impatience, but I walked at my normal pace, thinking that perhaps I’d been too hasty, insisting that this unrestrained imp go with us. But of course, I could never leave Pippin behind. He didn’t need to know my true feelings, though, not right away.

Although he was physically agitated, Pip grew unusually quiet on our way back. Clearly he was distracted with worry, but he’d also been forced to step away from his initial frenzy, and he looked to be considering things more carefully. I glanced at him several times, taking in his tight-knit brow and his far-away gaze. I could almost see the gears turning in his mind.

He had to be thinking of what the others had been saying about him, fretting about it, running back over his past behavior and inwardly bemoaning some of it. He was no doubt wondering what had made them come to such an extreme decision about him. It was unlikely he would find that answer on his own.

Pippin’s often Tookish behavior wasn’t something he was aware of. He just did as he pleased with a carefree innocence and a childlike desire to satisfy his own whims. It never seemed to occur to him that his natural openness and curiosity might sometimes prove very ill-advised. Aragorn was right in that. Pip was too impulsive and trusting and much too incautious. He didn’t think before he acted. I’d also been right in that many of us were often guilty of the same, but for some reason Pippin’s poor judgement usually had disastrous consequences. I didn’t know if Pip could be blamed for that or if it was simply bad luck, but my cousin did need to learn more restraint and that was a fact.

He would be unable to find that restraint without a bit of encouragement, and I’d provided Pip with plenty of encouragement in the past. Merry dealt with him best. A sound spanking from Merry often helped Pippin see things in a more sensible light. But there were times when even Merry felt either too furious to trust himself with Pippin or too hurt to deal with our cousin’s sometimes thoughtless conduct.

Pippin didn’t have a cruel bone in his body, and he and Merry adored one another in every loving physical and intimate way, but Pip did occasionally say things in the heat of the moment that he regretted later, one way or another. He would then punish himself so harshly for inadvertently hurting Merry that it was often more merciful for me to haul my cousin over my knee to help him atone for his thoughtlessness rather than letting him suffer the guilt of it alone.

So I felt that Pip was also surely thinking of Merry’s parting wounded gaze. Merry’s expression reminded me of the last time he had looked so sorrowful after one of Pip’s unthinking remarks.

It had taken place several hours before Bilbo’s birthday party. I’d been down at the grounds making sure all the final preparations were in place when Merry and Pip came strolling my way. They didn’t see me at first, as there were many workers bustling about, but I caught snatches of what seemed to be the beginnings of one of their many little squabbles, so I headed towards them, hoping to divert whatever might be brewing.

Drawing nearer, I heard a bit more, and from what I could gather they had been planning some mischief for later that night, something involving the theft of some of Gandalf’s fireworks! I’d immediately changed direction, deciding it best to remove myself and pretend that I wasn’t hearing any of this. But then I slowed when Pip’s tone turned sharply petulant. Merry had apparently been enthusiastic about the plan, but now he was having second thoughts, and of course Pip was angry and claiming that Merry always backed out at the last minute and that he just didn’t have the nerve this time because it was Gandalf they’d be playing a prank on.

Pip finally huffed and, in his heated tone, sputtered, “Oh, Merry! Every time I want to have a little fun you get all responsible and tiresome!”

“No, I don--”

“You do! It’s a fine plan, and we can do it! It’ll be grand! Where’s that Brandybuck fortitude?”

“Do you know what Gandalf will do to us if he--”

“Oh, he won’t catch us! Come on! Honestly! You’re gettin' too old and cowardly to be fun anymore!”

Now, these two were always getting into trouble together, and one was no more to blame for their roguishness than the other. They were both impish at heart and completely inclined to behave like the spirited young hobbits they were. So such a remark would hit Merry right where it hurt most, and turning to look back, I saw that indeed it had. Merry’s eyes had darkened with obvious confusion and resentment. Meanwhile, Pippin’s stricken expression clearly reflected that he’d heard what he’d just blurted out and now felt instant remorse for his words.

“Oh, Merry, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that!” Pippin exclaimed.

Merry’s stiff upper lip spread into a tense grin. “It’s alright. Forget it.”

Pippin knew his cousin too well. “No, really, I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean--”

“I said it was alright,” Merry said, patting Pippin on the shoulder. He fired an anxious glance around as if looking for something to distract him from this painful moment between him and Pippin and his gaze fell upon me. “Hullo, Frodo!” he called, obviously delighted for the distraction. “How long have you been standing there?”

“A while,” I said, strolling over. “Hullo, Merry.” I paused and stared at my cousin. “Hullo, Pippin.”

Pippin had been studying the ground since I joined them. Now he glanced up and shot me a quick look dripping with shame. “Hullo, Frodo” he murmured.

Merry shifted from foot to foot. “Did you, uhhh, hear what we were talking about?”

Still frowning at Pippin, I thought about my reply. I saw no reason to mention anything about the fireworks. Even these two weren’t foolhardy enough to make off with one of Gandalf’s dangerous toys. The consequences of playing about with the wizard’s belongings should’ve been staggering enough to ward them off, so I let it go. But Pippin had clearly taken a dive right into a deep pool of remorse and he was well on his way to an evening spent in miserable sulking. That couldn’t be tolerated.

“I didn’t hear much,” I said. “But I did hear a few remarks from Pippin that weren’t very kind. Were they, scamp?”

Pippin shoved his hands in his pockets, still gazing downward, and shook his head.

“He didn’t mean it, did you, Pip?” Merry said.

Pippin again shook his head, his curls falling along his downcast face.

“He’s apologized and I’ve accepted, Frodo. Everything’s alright now.”

I turned a thoughtful gaze to Merry. Of course he was trying to help, but he wasn’t thinking about how to best help Pippin in this moment. I shook my head a few times, very slightly, and a sudden look of understanding entered Merry’s blue eyes. He turned a compassionate glance to Pippin, and then back at me, and he nodded.

“Pippin.” I said it so firmly he immediately looked up at me. “You need to come with me. I want to talk to you privately about that careless tongue of yours.”

Pippin blinked in surprise and flashed a look to Merry. The Brandybucks could affect an exceedingly stern expression when they wished to, and Merry did so now. “Frodo knows what’s best here, Pip,” he said. “I’ll leave you with him to settle the matter.”

“Merry?” Pip said, his voice small.

“I’ll be back in about an hour,” Merry said. With another pat of assurance on Pippin’s shoulder he turned and headed off, leaving me with our wary cousin who watched with a wide-eyed look of alarm as Merry strolled away.

To his credit, Pippin held his ground. He was sharp enough to know from my manner what this “talk” was going to entail, but he didn’t run or plead or try to talk his way out of what he really very much needed. I’d walked him up the hill, home to Bag End where we found Gandalf and Bilbo on the bench outside smoking and talking. Following a few greetings and pleasantries I told them I had something to discuss with Pippin, and after glancing at my cousin’s uneasy expression they exchanged shrewd looks and bid me good luck.

“Frodo, please!” Pip had whimpered as I’d pulled him into my room. “They’ll hear!”

“Most likely,” I’d replied, yanking him over my knee and pulling down his britches. “Knowing the way you howl.”

When Merry met us an hour later Pippin’s eyes were red and his bottom was burning but his smile was genuine and his giggle real as he hugged Merry. He laughed and sang and danced all evening and Bilbo’s party was a rousing success, that is until he and Merry were indeed both foolish enough to steal one of Gandalf’s biggest explosives and nearly burned themselves alive. So poor Pippin had endured yet another paddling, this time at the hands of a very cross wizard.

“Frodo?”

Pip’s soft voice drew my attention back to him. We were nearly to my chamber where I’d been instinctively leading him. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. And I’m sorry I said those things to Merry.”

“I know,” I said leading him into the chamber Sam and I shared. “Merry knows, too.”

He looked in near tears. “But, it’s just that, I’m so scared. I don’t want to be left behind. I don’t. And I don’t know what to do. I-I . . . please, Frodo, please help me.”

My heart went out to him. I gathered him in my arms and he clung to me. “Don’t leave me, Frodo!” he said in a hushed voice. “Please, please don’t leave me. Don’t let them do this!”

I stepped back and took his hand. “Come. We’ll talk it over.” We made ourselves comfortable on my bed, sitting where Aragorn had sat earlier during his talk with me, one leg crooked up so we could face each other. I took Pippin’s hands in mine and studied his earnest little face. He did so want to try. There was no rebellion, no demanding little beastie. He was just my winsome cousin, very young and very loving and so very frightened.

“Pip, in order to take you along we must be able to trust that you’ll behave in a sensible manner.”

“I will!” he cried.

I took a long, slow breath and frowned. “Do not interrupt me again.”

He nodded.

“The others have valid concerns. This quest will be perilous and long. There will be no safety as we had in the Shire and even the most seemingly simple errors could prove deadly. You haven’t shown the best judgment at times. Understand, I’m not saying you’re the only one who has made mistakes; we all have, and we likely will again, but Pip . . . .”

I was struggling to say this without hurting him and I wasn’t saying it at all well. He watched me, attentive, quiet, and unnaturally patient. I suddenly marveled at his composure, wishing that all those who considered him such a risk could see him now, wishing I could march him into their presence and say, “Look at him! He can practice forbearance. He does have self-control. He’s desperate to go on this quest, and yet he’s waiting with such patience to hear his fate.” If only they’d met this Pippin, the one sitting here with me now.

I knew what to say.

“Pippin I want you to come. I want you with me not only because I love you, because we all love you, but because of how much we all will gain by having you as a part of the Fellowship.”

He blinked, his brows and forehead knitting into a sweet, confused frown. “What?” he said softly.

“You give us your courage and your loyalty and your endurance. Your laughter and your silly Tookishness cheer me. I marvel at your fortitude and your bravery and how willing you are to endure. We all benefit by your presence.” I paused, smiling at the pure truth of the matter. “I bless my good fortune that you and Merry crashed into Sam and me that day in Maggot’s corn field. Pip, I’m so glad that you are with me now.”

He simply stared at me. I rushed on. “I need you, Peregrin Took, for all that you are and all that you give me. I’ve told Aragorn as much, and he understands how I feel. But the others do have important concerns as well, valid concerns that cannot be ignored or taken lightly. So you and I must reach an understanding about your behavior if you are to come with the Fellowship.”

Pippin was fairly exploding, so I nodded at him in silent permission to talk.

“I’ll do whatever I need to do! I will! I’ll-I’ll behave and I’ll be careful and I won’t get into any mischief!”

I smiled. “Well, you would hardly be the cousin I love then, would you?” I teased. He grinned and blushed, but he was still too agitated to concentrate on much outside his own worry.

I sobered and said, “There are several things we need to take care of.” He nodded eagerly. “One, I need to impress upon you that caution is required at all times. There will be consequences if you behave in a foolhardy manner, the least of which will be a spanking.”

He swallowed hard and nodded again.

“Secondly, I will need an assurance from you that you will listen to what others tell you, and that you’ll be ever mindful of the dangers that can result, even from the most seemingly innocent acts.”

“Yes, yes. I will, Frodo. I promise I will.”

I sighed inwardly. He’d agree to anything at this point. But hopefully he would understand on a deep down level in a moment.

“Lastly, and more to the moment, you’ll be held accountable for your inconsiderate words or deeds, just as you’ve always been.”

His eyes grew wide. “Like for what I just said to Merry.”

“Yes.”

“Are you . . . you’re going to spank me now, aren’t you, Frodo?”

“Yes.”

He dropped his gaze and nodded, but there was no sorrow in Pippin’s manner. There was relief mixed with a healthy dose of dread. Pip had been down this road with me before. The dread was sound.

“And . . . and afterwards, I mean, then you’ll go to the others and tell them, tell them--”

“I’ve already given my promise to Aragorn that I would make you understand, and he will discuss it with Gandalf and Elrond.”

Pippin gaped at me for a moment then he hurled himself into my arms nearly weeping with cries of gratitude. I let him go on like that until he could calm down. He’d had a hard morning and it was about to get harder.

When he’d settled down I drew him back and said, “Remember, Pip, I swore to Aragorn that I would make all this clear to you, and I mean to do it, and you need to realize how important it is that you take this lesson in and keep it close to your heart. You will be responsible henceforth for your every word and deed, and Pippin, I cannot stress this strongly enough, you must pause and think before you act, think of all possible outcomes. For I will not risk the safety of my dear little cousin, no matter how much I want you with me. And if I feel you haven’t reached that point of true understanding, I won’t risk your life. I will go to the others and tell them that they were right, and that you need to remain behind.”

He was nodding in complete earnest, utterly serious and composed, clearly aware of the importance of what I was trying to impress upon him. “Yes, Frodo,” he said calmly. “I understand.”

“Then understand this as well: I’m about to spank you for your harsh treatment of Merry, but also to drive home this lesson of how necessary forethought must be, and I intend to begin by holding you accountable for that night at the Inn when you told those strangers who I was.”

I could almost see him adding all this together in his head and coming up with a severe spanking he didn’t want to face. He gazed at me in wide-eyed and obvious dread, then cleared his throat and said, “Not that I’m arguing or anything, you understand, but well, Strider, well I mean, Aragorn when he was Strider that night in Bree, he, he already spanked me for that . . . remember, Frodo? He kept talking the whole time his big hand was swatting down and I’m quite certain he took care of that incident.”

I watched him for a moment, then said, “He took care of it for his part. I did not take care of it for mine.”

Pippin froze, his mouth parting slightly in dismay. “Oh.”

“I should have settled the matter with you as well. You were answerable to me when you blurted out what you should not have. After Aragorn spanked you that night I let it go, but I was remiss, Pippin, and I plan to make you accountable now for your carelessness.”

“Oh.”

“Not that you were arguing or anything.”

“Oh, no! No, indeed. Not arguing, Frodo.” He sighed. “Not at all.”

“Good.”

I situated myself with both legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed Pippin with a suddenness that made him squeak. Dragging him over my lap I undid his braces and shoved his britches down, listening all the while to his little throaty gasps of trepidation. How well I understood his dismay! This was always the worst part for me, the few moments when I was lying over a lap, my bottom bared to the cool air, waiting, just waiting for that first spank.

I don’t recall it being that bad when I was a child. I rarely got spanked, and if I did it was so quick and so easily forgotten that the memory of it was now distant. But the recent spankings, the ones starting with Aragorn, oh! Lying exposed like that over a lap, well, there simply was no more vulnerable feeling imaginable. From the way Pip was trembling, I felt he agreed.

I laid my hand on Pip’s soft bottom and focused my intent. Pippin has the sweetest, roundest little bottom. I almost regretted what I was about to do to that pretty pale surface. Almost.

**********

My distant cousin has a pretty hobbit-child look to him that makes others gaze at him in awe, but Frodo packs a wicked, fully-adult and more than capable swing when he’s got me over his knee, and he began laying it on heavily now, right from the start. He has more finesse than Merry, who tends to be a bit, well, overeager is the word that springs to mind. Merry just thrashes away, warming my bottom quickly and with no particular subtlety. Frodo makes a spanking a work of art. Of course neither one can compare to what Aragorn’s big hand feels like when it connects, and my panic when the Ranger starts in on me is such that I’m not noticing what his style is.

The most natural response, I feel, to having one’s backside paddled is to fight your way off that lap and run like a rabbit. But, I’ve rarely . . . no, I’ve never been given that opportunity. So of course I react in other reasonable ways, as I did now. I bucked up and kicked my legs out, and I began to wail.

Frodo paid little mind of course. They never do. It seems rather heartless, but then I’m hardly in a position to be objective. No one is ever affected by my wailing. I don’t understand why they’re not, but that doesn’t keep me from doing it. I let go anyway, loudly, so that whoever’s spanking me will know that their efforts are making a fine impression indeed and they don’t need to be thinking about increasing them. It seems sensible to me to make one’s feelings known. Maybe they’ll feel sorry for me and stop, or at least go easier, or back off sooner than they might’ve if I’d been stubbornly quiet.

I’ve watched when others are stubbornly quiet and I don’t understand what they’re trying to accomplish. Do they think whoever’s spanking them will suddenly admire their fortitude and let them up? Ha! How perfectly daft. And yet how many times have I watched Merry nearly gnawing his lips off, trying to outlast Aragorn?

Now that makes no sense. Outlast Aragorn? It simply is not possible. The man is tireless when there’s a hobbit over his knee. Give him several hobbits to tend to at once and he’s frighteningly energetic. I swear, sometimes when I’ve watched Merry struggling, his face scrunched up in an effort to keep quiet, his poor backside getting redder by the minute, I’ve nearly bellowed, “Rot yer’ ruddy dignity, Merry! Yell!”

Several days ago, after Aragorn had spanked both Merry and I for some infraction that seemed, to us, overly minor for such a response, we were cuddling and commiserating on our bed and I just had to ask my cousin what the thinking was about his silence.

“Does it make you feel better?” I’d asked. “I mean, to hold back, to not cry out?”

“Feel better? While Aragorn’s spanking me?” Merry groaned. “Of course not. But, well . . . in a way, it does help me not think about it.”

“It does? That works?”

Merry thought for a moment, then sighed and said, “No. No, it never works actually.”

“Then why do it?”

“Pippin.” He made that put-upon sound in his throat.

“Right. Never mind.”

It was as I’d suspected then. No point to it. It didn’t help, and I swear it only served to annoy Aragorn and make Merry’s spanking last longer. Of course, maybe not. Surely Merry’s spankings couldn’t be any longer than mine, though it was hard to tell because when I’m over Aragorn’s knee time stands still and it’s like I’ve been there for years.

Not unlike now. Frodo clearly meant business. But there was one thing that was refreshing about a spanking from Frodo. He didn’t quiz me during it. I could lay there and cry and know I wasn’t going to be expected to talk about anything. Frodo cleared up why he was about to spank me beforehand and then he just got on with it. Very civilized. He showed the compassion of one used to being on the receiving end himself.

But his compassion ended there. Frodo didn’t resort to spanking me very often. He seemed to prefer letting Merry deal with me if need be. But when Frodo was this provoked and this determined to make his point, his thoroughness rivaled Aragorn’s. My bottom had reached that blazing level of heat that the Ranger always managed. My cheeks were wet with tears, a damp spot forming on the coverlet beneath my face, and I was shuddering now, my breath hitching, my wails sounding as raw and exhausted as I felt. I’d kicked so much my britches were now on the floor and my legs had grown too tired to move, and still Frodo kept on.

He’d never spanked me like this before. Never. Not for this long or this severely. It was endless. It was awful. I could feel myself getting frantic. I wasn’t afraid, it wasn’t that. I trusted Frodo to take care of me in what he was doing. But oh, what he was doing!

And I came to understand in those frantic moments that Frodo had taken me to this new extreme because his own panic was surging inside him. His fear for his impetuous young cousin drove him quite outside himself, leaving him with a desperate need to know that he’d done everything he could to stress the importance of his lesson. Yes, this was a horrible spanking, but, in short, my loving cousin could do no less.

So be it. I’d take all he needed to give me. I understood now, and, if I’d been able to draw breath enough to speak, I’d have told him so.

Frodo had spoken up for me. He wanted me with him. He wouldn’t let them leave me behind. Frodo . . . he . . . he’d said he needed me. Me. Peregrin Took. Aye, of course I would endure all he felt inclined to give me and bless him.

I sank across his lap and bawled my heart out, my hands squeezing and twisting knots of coverlet, my backside on fire. And then, at some point, I realized that Frodo had stopped. I wondered when that had happened. All I knew was the trembling and the shaking, the incredible burning soreness, my broken shudders, and the shattering sensation of warmth that spread throughout me as he gathered up my pliant body and tugged me around.

I opened my sore eyes. I was lying half-sprawled atop of Frodo and he was holding me, his head on the pillow, his arms around me. He’d somehow managed to drag me with him into this position and he now stroked my hair and rubbed my back while I lay drained and limp and soaking in his comfort. Every bone and muscle in my body had gone soft. I felt I might fall asleep and yet I had to tell him, had to let him know . . . .

“I understand,” I said, barely above a whisper. I heard him smile.

“Shhhhhhh. I know.”

“You . . . you’re frightened.”

A short pause, then: “Yes.”

“For all of us.”

“Yes. Shhhhh, Pip.”

“F-Frightened for me.”

“Yes.”

I twisted up a bit so I could look at him. There were two trails of tears down his cheeks, his big eyes liquid and glistening. I reached up and wiped his cheeks, then wiggled until I could reach his mouth for a quick kiss.

“Shhhhh,” I said back. “I’m fine.”

“I know. But I also know how hard that was. I-I had to spank you that hard, Pip.”

“Of course you did. You had to do it just like that, drill the importance of the lesson into my Tookish head. Or rather, my Tookish rear.”

He sniffed and grinned. “Oh, Pip. Only you could lay there with your backside apple red and joke about it.”

I looked back over my shoulder. “My. You’re right. What a lovely color!” I turned back around to see him smiling at me softly. Sometimes Frodo’s beauty can take my breath away. I lay gazing up at him, thinking of all he had on his mind, all he’d taken on, and I felt a great rumble of compassion for him.

“I know you’re frightened,” I said. “You have so much to do, this huge big scary thing, and yet you worry about all of us as well. You’re afraid that I may do something careless and that perhaps it might even cost me my life. I know I give you cause to fret, and I do things that make the others anxious, and I’m sorry, Frodo, and I wish I could promise you that I’ll never do anything ever again to make you worry about me. What I can give you is my promise to try as hard as I can to be cautious in everything I do, and to try to help you all I can. I want to try to be all those things you said I am to you, and I-I just want to be worthy of your trust and a useful part of this Fellowship.”

Frodo watched me quietly, his smile tender, his eyes luminously blue and bright. “You do understand, scamp,” he murmured. He kissed me back then hugged me to him and said, “But you don’t have to try to be all those things to me. You already are all those things, and so much more. And you’re also a part of this Fellowship.”

I hugged him back so hard that he whimpered. We lay like that for a while, then he looked up at me and said, “Do you feel up to going to find Merry and Sam?”

“Yes,” I said. “I want to apologize to Merry.”

“Show him this,” Frodo suggested, patting my rear. “Then he’ll know you’ve learned your lesson.” And then he laughed at my shocked reaction.

“You’re really a rogue sometimes, Frodo, you know that?” I said, trying not to laugh. I scooted from his grasp and slid to the floor, retrieving my britches. “And Aragorn thinks he has problems taking me along? Ha! I learned the meaning of making mischief from my older cousins.”

He was giggling too much to reply, so I went on entertaining him with my mutterings while yanking up my britches and tucking in my shirt.

“Blame me for all these goings on, yes, it’s always Pippin who’s the instigator, Pippin who planned everything. Bit of naughtiness going on? Must be the Took! Find that Pippin! He must be behind this. Well, let me assure you, between you and Merry I had very good teachers, cousin mine. And another thing, it was Merry planned that business at Bilbo’s party! Oh yes! All his idea! But did Gandalf believe me? Nooooo! Did he go any easier on me? Nonono and no! ‘You have as much soot on your face as Meriodoc does, Peregrin Took, so stop writhing about for it will avail you nothing.’”

Frodo was holding his tummy and giggling in that way he has that makes everyone giggle, so I couldn’t go on. I was laughing too much despite my phony vexation. He slid down from the bed and grabbed me and hugged the stuffing out of me.

“Oh, scamp! How could I ever bear to be without you?”

I hugged him just as fiercely then kissed his cheek and drew back, saying, “You’ll never need to find out, Frodo luv.”

*********

We exited by way of the terrace outside my room and headed down the few steps to the garden pathways. I had to smile at his careful, just-spanked manner of walking. Aragorn had been right. It was endearing.

And apparently the Ranger himself thought so as well. He leaned against a railing at the bottom of the steps, a knowing grin spread over his handsome face. Suddenly he sobered.

“I heard a report that someone was being slain in this vicinity,” he said with perfect seriousness. “Do you know anything about this, Frodo?”

“Not a thing,” I replied, shoving my fists into my pockets. I shot a puzzled look at Pip. His face wasn’t quite as rosy as his bottom, but it was close. Still, he maintained his Tookish dignity, such as it was. His eyes were still swollen and red from crying, but they were glassy and sparkling with those sweet impish lights and he looked content. “What about you, Pip? Did you hear anything?”

The picture of innocence, Pippin shook his head. “Noooo, nothing. But I was far too wrapped up in our conversation to pay mind to anything else.” He flashed me his ready smile, then he tilted his head up and studied Aragorn. “I wouldn’t believe everything you hear. Folks are known to exaggerate, you know.”

Aragorn raised his brows and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, saying, “I see. So this sound of screaming and hollering and wailing could have been nothing more than . . .?”

Pip shrugged and pursed his lips, then suggested, “The wind?”

“Ah.” He glanced at our still surroundings. “Indeed. And you must have been having quite the conversation to have missed these high winds.”

“We were,” I said. “We accomplished much. And now we’re off to the falls to meet Merry and Sam.”

Aragorn nodded. “The Monstrous Big Falls?”

“Aye! And they are!” Pippin cried. He paused and smiled up at Aragorn with flawless Tookish charm. “Would you like to come along?”

Aragorn took on a faint look of surprise, then he laughed softly and looked down for a moment as if considering.

“Come with us,” I said suddenly.

He glanced up at me, his eyes positively shining, and he nodded and stepped away from the railing to join us.

Pip cried, “Great!” And he hurried ahead of us a bit on the path, his funny little gait clearly apparent. Aragorn snickered softly. I pretended not to hear.

“I talked to Elrond and Gandalf,” he said softly. “They understood, and no changes will be made. Pippin is still part of the Fellowship.”

“Good. He understands now, too, and I know he will do his best. Thank you for going to the others, Aragorn, and for listening to me, and trusting me to take care of this.”

“It was a trust well deserved,” he said. “Although it did sound as though you were killing him in there. I would have been concerned were it anyone but Pippin.”

I smiled and said. “My hand hurts.”

“I guess it would,” he said with a small laugh. “Imagine what your hand would feel like if you had to deal with four hobbits all in one night.” He laughed again at my stunned expression, then said, “But you did indeed handle things, Mister Underhill.”

I grinned up at him. “Most effectively.”

end