Storyteller P30
I'm thinking about illustrating my fics, starting with Storyteller. I have several sketches in my sketchbook that I'd love to color in Photoshop and upload here, if any of you would be interested in viewing them. They aren't professional or even that good, but I had a blast drawing them.
Enough pyschobabble. Here's Storyteller, part thirty. And no, this fic will probably never die. It's taken over my life.
Mandi B.
"Peregrin Took, you pick that cane up right now! Don't you dare!" Merry shook his finger warningly.
"I hate it!" Pippin whined, though he did as he was told. "It's uncomfortable and it hurts my arm!"
"Wonderful, I'll store that away for later reference, but you are not leaving this bed without your cane. If you don't make up your mind, I'll have Frodo sit on you until I return from picking berries." He threatened, his face just daring the little Took to challenge him.
"You will not!" He furrowed his brow; Merry had always been his accomplice in breaking the rules! Why was he so concerned about following them now?!
"Will so, just try me!" Merry's face softened. "Pip, please... I don't want you getting hurt again. I can't very well make love to you with a broken leg, and I'm not too keen on waiting several more weeks..."
He didn't even have to finish his thought before the cane was under Pippin's arm.
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"This is boring," Pippin complained, picking lazily at a blade of grass. "I can't keep up with you, I can't pick the berries... all I can do is sit here and watch you."
"Yes, and eat the berries I worked so hard to pick!" He laughed, throwing a small raspberry at Pippin's head, hitting him gently on the forehead, leaving behind a burgundy splatter.
"Well, it's tough work!" Pippin insisted, wiping the juice from his forehead and licking his fingers clean in a gesture that was so purely innocent it made Merry stiffen.
"I'm sure it must be quite taxing to sit around on your bum, Peregrin Took. I made you walk out here with me to strengthen your legs and you had me carry you halfway to the bushes..." He dropped a handful of dark, rich berries into the basket which had been at least half full when he last looked at it.
"Not used to the cane, yet," he said irritably. "Hurts me beneath the arms... not used to being rubbed and chaffed there."
"No, I suppose not, but relying on others to carry you from place to place isn't going to help you," he remarked, watching in vain as his berries disappeared into Pippin's mouth just as quickly as he could drop them into the basket.
"Tell me a story," Pippin requested, staring into the basket that was now looking quite bare. "One about us."
"Very well... what do you want to hear?"
"Anything," he shrugged aimlessly.
"Hmm.... well, do you want to hear a story about this berry patch?" Merry spun around to look at his little cousin who nodded in approval.
"That would be lovely.... and keep the berries coming!"
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It was another dreadfully hot summer in the Shire and all of the berries were ripening far ahead of their time. As a result, raspberries and black caps were rotting by the basket full, raising an unholy stink around the border of Buckland. Never being one to waste an opportunity to pick berries, Merry packed a small picnic, collected two small baskets and his little cousin and headed out for a day in the fields of wild berries.
Pippin, being a small lad, was no match to keep up with Merry and would plop down in the middle of a walk and complain of his aching feet. To remedy this, Merry took a long piece of cloth and after putting Pippin on his back, wrapped it around them several times, making a sling to carry his little cousin. At first Pippin protested -- he wasn't a nursling and was not about to allow himself to be carried like one. However, he liked the way the wind rushed through his hair when Merry took off running and decided that perhaps rides weren't just for nurslings.
"Alright, Impling, let's get you down..." He pulled at the ties that held the two Hobbits together.
"More!" Pippin demanded, clapping his hands.
"Maybe later, don't you want to pick berries?"
Pippin thought for a moment. "Berries... Yes! Yes, I want to pick berries."
"All right, all right, keep still... I can't very well untie this if your... Pip, sit still!"
"Down, Merry! Wanna get down!" He wriggled and squirmed in his restraints, making Merry's knots all the tighter.
"And I'll get you down if you'll stop wiggling!"
It took all of Pippin's limited willpower to hold still long enough to be released from his bonds. Upon receiving his freedom, he ran up and down the length of the berry patches, giggling delightedly and kicking up trails of dust in his wake. Merry only smiled, tending to stripping the berry brambles of their fruits that were just ripe enough, depositing them into his basket as Pippin ran about and rolled in the dust.
"Merry! Come play with me!" He shouted joyfully, laughing and sneezing as the dust caught in his curly hair.
"We came out here to pick berries, Goose! Don't you want some of your own to take home to Cook? She'll make pie for us if we do..."
"I don't want to pick berries, I wanna play!"
"As you wish, Impling, but I'd rather have that pie!" Merry continued plucking
For the next few hours, Merry carefully worked his way up and down the long rows of berries that just begged to be plucked. Ripe, luscious, absolutely unbelievable! He'd never remember seeing berries so large in his nearly fifteen years of life. While he worked diligantly collecting berries, his young cousin rolled in the dust, plucked grass and tried to re-route a travelling caravan of ants. Merry stopped for a few moments on Pippin's request to examine his progress with his ants -- he had managed to move his little army from one mound of dirt to another and the little soldiers were already rebuilding an anthill.
They stopped briefly for luncheon, munching on fresh bread and butter, nearly emptying their water skins. Pippin, being the bottomless pit of a Hobbit that he was, finished his own share and the remains of Merry's, who decided that Pippin's belly was a bit too flat for a Hobbit. Several of the crumbs went to feed Pippin's army, though the ants took little interest in his gracious offerings.
The winds began to change and the sun sunk deeply into the horizon, casting the sky with brilliant hues of pink and fiery orange, the light catching and playing in Pippin's curls. The little whelp was still watching ants; the boy often had the attention span of one of his newly found ant friends, which is why Merry found Pippin's unshaking interest in the creatures so unusual.
"Pip, the sun's going down and if we're out much later, Mum will skin us... Besides, Cook needs plenty of time to bake the pie from all of these berries." He dragged his now heaving basket of berries over to where Pippin lay napping in the dust, his ants crawling up and over his gently tanned arms. "C'mon, Pip..."
"Mmmph.. Just a bit longer," He murmured, nuzzling his nose into the pillow of his arms.
"Come on, Impling," Merry scooped him up in his arms and pulled him to his feet. Pippin lazily gripped onto his elder cousin's back and allowed himself to be tied securely in place by the strips of fabric. He nuzzled into the back of Merry's neck, breathing the warm, familiar scent as he was gently carried back to Brandy Hall.
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"Here you are, Meriadoc," Cook shuffled into the dining room carrying a large slice of strawberry pie that she had made from the pickings.
"That smells wonderful, Cook," Esmerelda nodded her approval and smiled at her productive son. He had earned this rare summer treat.
"Thank you!" Merry took plate from her and admired the fruits of his labor -- Cook rarely ever made strawberry pie, which Merry had grown an intense fondness for, and he would have dug in and enjoyed it greatly if it weren't for the beady green eyes examining it closely.
"And you can stop eyeing that pie, Peregrin. From what I understand, you spent your afternoon rolling around and getting yourself filthy, not to mention the ants we had to pluck out of your curls before dinner," Cook said sharply, bustling out before Saradoc had the chance to scold her for her tongue.
"But Merry picked nearly a basket full of berries, there was plenty for more than this slice!" Pippin insisted, looking rather upset.
"Peregrin, he worked hard all day to collect those berries," Saradoc leaned back in his chair. "Did you pick any berries for your own pie?"
"I... well... no," his brow furrowed a bit.
"Well, then, next time you should collect berries with your cousin instead of playing with ants and rolling around in the dust." Saradoc was rarely ever this harsh and everyone present knew this. He was trying to teach his nephew the value of hard work, but Merry didn't understand how he could be so cruel in the midst of those sorrowful green eyes.
Pippin rested his head on his folded arms, avoiding eye contact with anyone, and Merry's heart broke. He scooted his chair beside his little cousin and placed a kiss in his dusty cinnamon locks.
"Here, Pip... This is far too big for me to eat all on my own. Grab your fork and help me eat this pie, will you?" He smiled and Pippin's eyes positively lit up the room and warmed Merry's heart.
Though neither of the young Hobbits noticed it, Saradoc and Esmerelda exchanged proud glances at each other, beaming over their thoughtful son and adorable nephew.
TBC