By Molly (magickalmolly @ livejournal.com)
First Snow
Pippin rolled over in the soft bed, burying himself deeper under the woolen blankets in an effort to fight off the morning’s chill. He squeezed his eyes tight, willing himself to go back to sleep, but something tugged at the corner of his mind and wouldn’t leave him be. After another moment of fitful turning, which only succeeded in getting his nightshirt twisted around his waist, Pippin tossed the blankets back and sat up.
Looking next to him as he pushed his messy curls from his forehead, Pippin was surprised to find the bed empty. “I wonder where...?” He began as he stretched, but then trailed off as his eyes caught sight of the small window. Or, more specifically, what lay beyond.
“Snow... It’s snowing!” Pippin leapt from the bed and threw on his warmest clothes as quickly as he could, rushing out of the bedroom in search of Merry.
Merry was found at the kitchen table, dressed and sipping a hot cup of tea that Sam had just brought him. Both Merry and Sam looked up when Pippin appeared quickly around the corner, flushed and smiling widely.
“There you are! I was afraid you had gone out already when I didn’t find you in bed.” Pippin nodded to Sam when he held up the teapot in a silent question, taking the seat next to Merry, still grinning.
Merry set his cup down, looking over at Pippin with a raised eyebrow. “Well, it’s about time you got yourself up. Oh mercy, I recognize that grin. What are you up to, Pippin?”
Pippin took the offered teacup from Sam with a quick smile of thanks, turning his attention almost immediately back to Merry. “Have you looked outside yet today?”
“Well, no. I haven’t even had my breakfast yet. Why?”
Pippin could hardly sit still. “It’s snowing. Looks like it has been all night. You know what that means.”
Sam sat down across from the two hobbits with a plate of toast, buttering the slices with a practiced hand. He watched as Merry eyed Pippin for a long moment, and then went silently back to his tea. But Peregrin Took was not a hobbit to be dismissed so easily, and he smiled engagingly at his cousin until the corner of Merry’s mouth twitched up.
Pippin gave a triumphant shout, throwing his arms about Merry’s shoulders and kissing him loudly on the cheek. Merry sighed heavily, but he couldn’t hide his smile and patted Pippin’s arm affectionately as he stood.
“All right, Pip, let’s get this over with.”
Sam couldn’t hold back his curiosity any more. “What are you two going to do?”
Merry laughed, answering before Pippin could get a chance. “Well, I’m going to get Pip all covered in snow. I don’t know what he’ll be doing.” Merry motioned to Pippin with his head as he straightened his weskit, not bothering to hide his smug smile.
Gasping indignantly, Pippin balled up his fists and placed them on his slim hips. “I don’t think so, Meriadoc.” Seeing the confused expression on Sam’s face, Pippin explained. “Every year on the morning of the first snow, Merry and I have a snowball fight. We’ve done so ever since I could make a snowball.”
Merry laughed, heading for the front door. “That’s not true, Pip. You still can’t make a snowball.” He tossed the younger hobbit’s cloak to him as he followed Merry into the entrance hall, and Pippin caught it with one hand, throwing it around his shoulders with a flourish.
Sam was right behind Pippin, curiosity making his step quick, and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched the two cousins eye one another challengingly, buttoning up jackets and fastening cloaks with determined fingers.
Pippin opened the round green door, stepping aside and bowing to Merry, hand held out in invitation to the snowy yard that lay beyond. “Please, after you.” Pippin planed to attack as soon as Merry was out the door, but Merry knew Pippin’s tricks and was ready to be quicker. Merry stepped out the door, then immediately scrabbled aside, scooping up a handful of snow and packing it efficiently. He turned, quickly aiming for Pippin and hitting him in the side of the head just as the younger hobbit made his way onto the landing.
“Ah-hah! First blood!” Merry laughed out loud, pointing at Pippin. “Now you’ll see!” Laughing more, Merry scampered around the side of the Smial, cloak flying out behind him.
Cursing under his breath, Pippin gave his head a good shake, little wet flakes flying from his coppery curls and back to the ground. But he didn’t let Merry’s strike deter him. With a grim set to his mouth, he scooped up two overflowing handfuls of snow, following footprints that were easily discernable in the fresh powder. He caught Merry just as the older hobbit was bent over, packing snow into a large ball, and threw his snowball with a mighty heave.
Merry pitched face-first into the snow as Pippin’s throw hit him square in the seat of his breeches. Pippin doubled over with laughter, hooting in victory. Merry lurched up to his knees and that was Pippin’s cue, turning on his heel and running back in the direction he had come, his laughter carrying over his shoulder.
“Peregrin Took, you’ll pay for that!” Merry spat as he scraped snow out of his mouth. Getting himself up off of the wet ground, Merry changed tactics and continued the way he had originally been heading, instead of following his younger cousin, and climbed up to the top of the Bag End.
Pippin ran past the front door, not even noticing the rapidly increasing number of eyes watching the hobbit’s antics through the front windows, and only paused long enough to fill his hands with snow again, turning with a mighty cry. But Merry was nowhere to be seen, and it wasn’t until a snowball flew through the air in a graceful arc, landing square on the top of his head that Pippin thought to look up. There was Merry, hiding behind the large tree that grew out of the top of Bag End, grinning like a naughty child, another snowball right behind the first.
Pippin only jumped out of the way by pure instinct, slipping on an icy patch and landing on his rump with a soft “Oof!”. He cringed as the wet snow seeped through his breeches, but he didn’t let that stop him from throwing the two snowballs in his hand, the second one hitting Merry square in the shoulder.
Seeing that Pippin was now defenseless, Merry cried out with a mighty “Aieee!” and ran down the hill at top speed, kicking up the fresh powder around his feet as he went. Emerald eyes widened at the quickly approaching Brandybuck, and Pippin scrabbled for snow as fast as he could, flinging wet handfuls at Merry frantically. But these pitiful attacks didn’t stop Merry, and he leapt onto the panicking Took, rolling the two of them over until Pippin was pinned under him.
Panting, Merry’s smile widened as he crossed his arms over his chest triumphantly. “Ah-hah! You are caught! Now, you will beg mercy, and this entire affair will be over and done with.”
Pippin looked up to Merry, wide eyed and flushed, and couldn’t help but to laugh at the smug grin on Merry’s face. Casually as he could, Pippin grabbed a handful of snow with one hand, and then sat up quickly, pulling on the front of Merry’s shirt with his other hand and shoved the snow inside.
Merry yelped in surprise, wriggling on top of Pippin in a desperate attempt to get his shirt untucked from his breeches so he could shake the snow out. Pippin laughed at Merry’s comical display, but Merry quickly hushed him by grasping a handful of snow and shoving it into Pippin’s face with and indignant cry.
Coughing and sputtering at the snow up his nose, Pippin scrubbed his hands over his face, glaring up at Merry angrily. Shaking his head, Pippin sneezed loudly, wiping at his wet nose with the back of his sleeve. A moment later Pippin took two fistfuls of Merry’s weskit and flipped him back into the snow. Over and over the two hobbits tumbled, the both of them laughing and wrestling with each other, trying to put snow down one another’s collars.
Estella was the one who finally opened the round green door, wanting to get a closer look at the show her husband and his younger cousin were unknowingly putting on for all of Bag-End. She had a wide-eyed Daisy on her hip, and the both of them watched the Master of Buckland and the Took and Thain of the Great Smials roll about in the snow like a couple of lads. Daisy wriggled impatiently in Stel’s arms, wanting to get down and join in the fun.
“No poppet, you’re too mature for that.” Stel laughed, and wrapped the toddler tighter in the shawl around her shoulders, kissing her temple soothingly. A moment later Stel had to move out of the way for fear of being overrun by the rest of the Gardner children, little Farry and her own son as well, all of them wearing winter cloaks freshly retrieved from storage as they plunged into the snow, laughing and calling out to one another.
Rosie came out last, Sam helping her walk as her belly was round once again, Dinny next to her, pulling cobwebs from both their curls. Dinny was about to comment on how long it took to sort out all the cloaks when her eyes fell to the spectacle outside, her mouth left hanging open.
Pippin and Merry were both flat on their backs and completely covered in little hobbits. Their namesakes had apparently started the attack, as Pippin-lad and Merry-lad could be seen at the bottom of the pile, Rose-lass and little Goldilocks both giggling incessantly as they wriggled somewhere in the middle. Farry, Borry and Frodo-lad were on the top, grabbing handfuls of snow and shoving them in wherever they could fit. Elanor stood off to the side, trying unsuccessfully to control her laughter as she held a scowling Hamfast in her arms, cuddling him under her cloak as he refused to come out.
Somehow managing to scoop up Goldilocks, Merry-lad and Rose-lass all in his arms, Pippin wriggled out from under the pile and spilled the children out across the snow, being far more careful with little Goldy than the others. The children shrieked their laughter as they rolled, and a moment later Merry had tumbled the rest of the young hobbits off of him, hopping to his feet and making a hasty retreat, taking Pippin with him.
When they were a safe distance away from the children, Merry and Pippin shook the snow from each other’s hair with gentle fingers, just like they did every year. Merry leaned over and rubbed his cold nose against Pippin’s, kissing him softly before draping an arm over his shoulders and joining the other adults on the front step. Children ran all over the yard now, laughing, throwing snow, and generally doing what little hobbits do best, and the six of them watched in comfortable silence.
Wrapping his arms around Rosie’s full waist from behind, Sam said, “I wish Frodo was seeing this.” Rosie sighed softly and nodded in silent agreement, leaning back against the warmth of Sam’s chest. A moment later Sam stiffened in surprise as a slim pair of arms encircled his own full waist, hugging him as tightly as they could.
“I am seeing it, for I simply couldn’t sleep with all this noise.” Both Dinny and Stel looked to each other and rolled their eyes, smiling. Pippin bit his tongue to keep from commenting, snuggling under Merry’s wet cloak instead.
Rosie, however, snorted her laughter at Frodo’s comment, and leaned back over Sam’s shoulder to give Frodo a peck on the cheek. “If you’re looking for quiet, then it’s sure you’re living in the wrong home, Frodo Baggins.”
Frodo was quiet for a long moment, letting his eyes take in everything around him before he answered. The snow-covered and flushed pile of children in the yard, shouting and laughing as they ran back and forth. His cousins and two of his oldest friends, both just as snow-covered and flushed, able to put aside age and title for what really mattered in this life; the two of them rubbing noses and smiling lovingly at one another. Stel and Dinny, now side by side with their own swollen bellies, holding hands and cuddling little Daisy between them who was content to stay in their arms. And his own Sam, pressed back against his chest so he could smell the sun on his skin, even in winter, and their precious Rose who gave everything of herself and had a heart bigger than all of the Shire.
“No, Rose,” Frodo answered quietly, reaching out with one hand to stroke over Sam’s where it lay across the curve of her belly. “I think I’ll stay right here.”
~
Pretty Good Year