Pippinesque

[rabidsamfan]

piratesmoon asked for Pippin, distracting the Fellowship.



Fingers, toes, nose, belly, definitely ears… Pippin left off considering all the places he was less than comfortable and looked around at the rest of the Fellowship to see if they were miserable too. Legolas wasn't even muddy, of course, and Gimli acted like he walked on wet rocks and grass all the time, so they were all right. Boromir had splatters all the way up to his knees, but his face was peaceful, his eyes watching the distance as if he didn't even notice the wet. It was hard to tell with Strider, especially since he had the hood of the lined leather cloak he'd been gifted with in Rivendell pulled up so his face was shadowed, but he moved easily, the way he always did, in spite of the cold rain. Gandalf was using his stick a lot, though, so maybe they'd be stopping soon.

Which would be good, because Sam had a line between his eyebrows like his head was aching, and Merry was biting his lower lip the way he did when he was thinking too hard, and Frodo had his lips in a hard straight line and one hand was pressed against the lump under his shirt that was the Ring and he only did that when he was tired. He'd forget how to smile if he kept worrying like that.

Pippin couldn't think of a song he knew that Frodo wouldn't know too, except for the kind which you didn't sing until after your third ale, and Frodo probably knew those anyway. But what else could you do to make someone smile as you walked in the rain? Juggle? His hands were too cold and anything he tried to juggle would be too wet….

He was thinking so hard that he wasn't watching his feet, and when the stone turned underneath him as he put his weight down, there was a moment of complete surprise, and then utter certainty about what was going to happen. Down he went, arse over teakettle, bumping his elbow and scraping his hand on rocks before he reached a soggy patch of thin grass with a layer of plentiful mud beneath it.

He was dizzy for a moment, waiting for the rest of the world to catch up as he felt the mud seeping in through the last dry places under his cloak. But then he looked up, and saw the others looking down at him, some surprised, some resigned, and some concerned.

"Are you all right, Mr. Pippin?" Sam called.
"Do you want help getting out?" Merry asked at the same time.

Strider and Boromir began picking their ways down the slope without asking, so Pippin hastily scrambled free of the sticky patch and headed up to meet them. He really wasn't hurt, but he let Strider help him up the last bit to the path. He hesitated then. Gimli and Legolas were standing aloof, and Boromir stepped back too, but Sam and Merry immediately began to fuss.

"I'm all right," Pippin said. "Just a bit dirty."

"A bit?" Sam shook his head over the condition of Pippin's feet. "As much mud as is stuck to you I could pop you in the oven and bake you like a chicken."

"Honestly, Pippin," Merry sighed, "Couldn't you watch where you were going?"

Gandalf finished looking Pippin over for damage. "Trust a Took to find the worst patch of mud in the meadow," he grumbled, satisfied that there wasn't much worse than mud.

Pippin, a little dismayed at the fussing, looked to see if he'd made things harder for Frodo by his clumsiness. But Frodo was grinning.

"Trust a Took," he said, "to find a nice soft place to land."

Pippin grinned back. They'd have to stop soon now, and maybe even have a fire. He lobbed a badly aimed glob of mud at his cousin. "Shall I find you a place for your bedroll, then?" he asked cheerfully.