drunkenhobbitstories

“Some Bottles of Buckland’s Finest”

“Estella, whatever are you doing with that?” Diamond asked, as she watched the older lass take down a decanter of brandy from the shelf.

“Well, I certainly don’t intend to sit about and admire it,” Estella said, with a sarcastic grin on her face. She held the bottle aloft and announced, “I plan to pour myself a drink, Diamond. Would you like one also?”

“I’ve never had brandy before,” Diamond admitted, unable to take her eyes off of the bottle.

“I have,” Rose said, and it was then that Diamond noticed her sitting at the kitchen table, an empty glass in her hand.

“You have?” Estella asked. “When?”

“My older brother was once gifted a bottle of Brandy for some yard work that he’d done for old Mister Brockhouse,” Rose smiled. “Tom brought it home and I followed him out to the barn where he and a couple of his mates planned on finishing it off before our father found out about it.”

Estella grinned. “And?”

“I threatened to tell on them if they didn’t give me some,” Rose said. “The next clear memory that I have of that event is Tom holding my hair back whilst I puked into a milk pail.”

Estella laughed and sat the bottle down on the table. “Then you must have a better experience to think on than that one,” she said, uncorking the bottle.

“You really are going to drink that?” Diamond asked, wide-eyed.

“Absolutely,” Estella said. “This is some of Buckland’s finest and I deserve the finest!”

She righted a glass and began to pour. “Normally we just have a bit of wine or some ale, but I feel like something special tonight. I feel like a few bottles of Buckland’s finest.”

Diamond furrowed her brow and sat down next to Rose. “I don’t know that I should. Pippin might not think it suitable,” Diamond said.

Estella snorted. “Where is Pippin right now, Diamond?”

“Well, he’s with Merry of course,” Diamond said.

Rose grinned over at Estella and said, “And what do you think that they are doing just now?”

“They’re helping Merry’s father with some paperwork up at the Hall,” Diamond said. “Sam’s with them, isn’t he?”

“That he is,” Rose agreed with a bit of smirk.

“Diamond, if you are going to marry Peregrin Took, then there is something that I think you should know,” Estella said, in a whisper.

“What’s that?” Diamond asked.

“He drinks,” Estella said.

“Well, I know that,” Diamond said, a bit insulted. “I’m a bit younger than you are, but naturally I know that most male hobbits drink.”

“Firstly, you are more than a bit younger than me, ten years or so, and secondly, all male hobbits drink unless they’re dead,” Estella said, pushing an empty glass toward Diamond.

“Fine then, but I’m thirty-one and you’ve no need to treat me as if I’m simple-minded,” Diamond objected. ”What does Pippin’s drinking have to do with where he is now?”

“Diamond, every week at some point, usually near the end of the week, Merry’s father sends for Merry and for Pippin and they go up to the Hall to do ‘paper work’,” Estella said. “Truth of it all is, they go up to the Hall and drink and smoke and telling tales until all hours and then, long after dark, they stagger home arm-in-arm singing rude songs at the top of their voices and belching.”

“You mean, they aren’t meeting on important business?” Diamond asked, looking shocked.

“Not unless you consider discussing which of them gets more looks from the lasses or which of them is the better arm wrestler to be of any importance,” Esmeralda Brandybuck said, as she came in through the kitchen door. “I’ve brought two more bottles, but I see you’ve started without me.”

“No, not started, just got ready to start,” Estella said, waving her mother-in-law to a seat next to her and offering her a glass also.

“Good then I’ve missed nothing,” Esmeralda said, tipping the bottle over and pouring herself a drink. She then passed it to Rose who filled her glass as well and passed the bottle to Diamond who looked at it for a minute and then moved it over to Estella.

Estella shrugged and filled her own glass. “Before we begin, what were our lads doing when you left the Hall?” she asked looking over at Esmeralda.

“Pippin was attempting to put more coins into a glass by flipping them across the room than Merry or Sam had managed. When I left, Sam was winning,” Esmeralda said.

“That’s my Sam,” Rosie smiled.

“But Pippin said that they work hard up at the Hall all evening,” Diamond frowned.

“I suppose it must be hard work trying to act more foolish than the other gits present,” Esmeralda said. “But don’t worry, Diamond, Pippin usually does quite well.”

Estella snorted. “Then let’s not allow them to get too far ahead of us, shall we?” She raised her glass and announced. “Here’s to the lads!”

Esmeralda and Rose joined her in the toast and Diamond watched. “But I really don’t know why he should lie about this. I don’t mind that he drinks,” she frowned.

“Of course you don’t,” Rose said. “But lads are conditioned to think that we mind. Besides, they like the sneakin’ about part of it almost as much as the drink.”

“More,” Esmeralda agreed, refilling her glass.

“But I’ve never had brandy before,” Diamond said, softly. “What if I don’t enjoy it?”

“What if you do?” Estella asked. “You never know until you try.”

Reluctantly, Diamond pushed her glass over and allowed Estella to fill it. She held it to her nose and sniffed it and then took a small sip while the other three lasses watched her.

“It tastes as if it’s on fire,” Diamond said. “It feels warm going down.”

“Warms your heart and ever so much less trouble than a male hobbit is,” Estella said, refilling the other glasses. “A toast, to Meriadoc Brandybuck, the fussiest eater in all of the Shire!”

“I’ll drink to that,” Esmeralda agreed.

“Fussy how?” Diamond asked.

“Every time you make him something new, he leans over, smells it and then says, ‘What’s in that?’” Estella sighed. “He never just eats it and enjoys it. He never tells you how delicious it is. He has to know down to the very last bit of pepper, what you’ve put into it before he’ll touch it and then after he’s devoured three plate full of it, he’ll look at you and say, “That wasn’t bad, Stella, but next time, maybe less onion.’” She downed her drink in one gulp.

“He was like that as a young lad,” Esmeralda agreed. “I’d put the same food on his plate as on Frodo’s and Merry would have to ask questions. Frodo simply ate it and asked for more.”

They all laughed at this.

“Here we drink to Saradoc Brandybuck, Master of the Hall,” Esmeralda said, with a smile. “The loudest snorer in all of Buckland!”

“I disagree,” Rose objected. “When my Sam is in Buckland, then the Master has competition for his title.”

“Surely not,” Esmeralda objected. “Why sometime hobbits on the far end of the smial complain that Sara’s kept them awake.”

“I’d swear that one time, Sam snored so loud that the vibrations caused a vase to fall from a table in another room,” Rose objected.

“I’d make that a tie,” Estella said. They all raised their glasses and drank and then looked at Diamond expectantly.

“Oh, it’s my turn?” she asked.

“It is indeed,” Rose said.

“Well, all right then,” Diamond said. “Here’s to Peregrin Took who lied to me and told me he was working hard all of these nights.”

They all drank again and Diamond giggled, “This is fun. May I do another?”

“As you’re new, go ahead, “ Estella agreed.

“Here’s to Peregrin Took who talks with his mouth full and makes funny faces behind my favorite aunt’s back when she’s speaking and who enjoys pinching my backside in public to get my reaction,” Diamond said.

“My that was quite a toast!” Rose giggled. They refilled the glasses and looked at Estella.

“Here’s to Merry Brandybuck who thinks he knows more about everything and anyone else,” Estella said and another round was poured.

“Here’s to Saradoc, who, when asked about anything of importance, replies with, “I really don’t know about that, dearest,”’ Esmeralda said.

They giggled and poured another round and Rose stood this time and lifted her glass, “Here’s to Samwise Gamgee who doesn’t know that I keep extra coin in an old jelly jar for emergencies!”

They all stood and toasted Sam and Esmeralda, whose hand was still quite steady, poured another round. They all looked over at Diamond again who proceeded to hic-up and then giggle. “Is it my turn?”

“It is,” Rose smiled.

“Good! Here’s to Pippin who believes everything I tell him!” she crowed.

Estella giggled. “To Pippin!”

Refills and then Estella said, “Here’s to my husband who thinks that our house is a place for him to put his feet up while I cook!”

Rose snorted. “I hate that about them all.”

“Lazy rotters!” Estella shouts.

“Is my glass empty?” Diamond asked leaning over and staring into it intently.

“Yes, here’s a bit more,” Rose said and refilled it.

“Here’s to us for putting up with all of them for so long,” Esmeralda said.

“Yes and two of you have had to put up with one of Merry so that makes him twice the trouble,” Diamond said, finishing her drink.

Rose snorted. “You’re drunk already.”

“Is that bad?” Diamond asked, confused.

“No,” Estella said. “It just means the rest of us need to catch up a bit. Don’t drink on this one, Diamond and let us get caught up.”

‘I’m winning? This is my first time,” Diamond said, fairly glowing. “I must be good at this.”

Rose and Estella snickered. “Here’s to Diamond. The perfect lass for Peregrin Took!” Estella said with a wink at Rose.

“Oh, good, you’re drinking to me,” Diamond said. ‘No one’s done that a’ fore!”

“I bet Pippin drinks to you all the time,” Estella said. She stood. “It must go something like this and she tried for a Tookish accent and nearly managed it. “Here’s to Diamond who has no idea how lucky she is to have me!”

Rose laughed wildly. “Oh, that’s good, Estella!”

“I do so!” Diamond frowned.

“You do what, dear?” Esmeralda asked.

“I do know how lucky he is to have me,” Diamond said with a toss of her curls. “He’s very lucky!”

“I said, he thinks you’re lucky, not that he thinks he’s lucky,” Estella corrected.

“I said what you know,” Diamond objected and Rose snickered again.

“Never mind, let’s continue,” Rose suggested. “Here’s a toast to Sam who has too many relations and worries about all of them too much of the times.”

“Sam has relations too often with who?” Diamond asked.

Estella spit out a mouth of brandy and spouted, “Why, with Rose of course! That’s how they got all of those children!”

“What I do with Sam Gamgee in the bedroom of my own smial is none of your business, Estella!” Rose said.

“I hear he snores,” Estella said, snickering.

“That’s afterward,” Rose giggled.

“That’s a relief,” Esmeralda said. “Sometimes, at his age, Sara snores during.”

“During what?” Diamond asked.

“Relations!” Estella and Rose howled together as Esmeralda filled up the glasses all around again.

“When I’m married to him Pippin better not snore,” Diamond said. “He can have relations but he just best not be snoring any! That keeps me awake.”

“Snoring keeps her awake but relations don’t?” Estella giggled. “How daft is Pippin?”

“I don’t know,” Diamond said. “How daft is he?”

They all laughed and then drank again.

“I fell asleep once during,” Rose said, snickering.

“During?” Estella said. “You mean while Sam was, you fell asleep?”

“I was tired,” Rose said, draining her glass.

“Did he notice?” Estella asked.

“I don’t think so,” Rose said. “He never mentioned it. If he said anything it was while I was asleep.”

“I hate when they talk while you’re asleep, “ Estella sighed.

“I hate it when they sleep while you are trying to talk to them,” Esmeralda sighed.

“I hate it,” Diamond said and hic-upped.

“You hate what?” Rose asked.

“I don’t know, but I am sure I hate something,” Diamond said.

“I hate when Sam feeds the children too many sweets,” Rose said.

“I hate it when Merry spread out all of those herbs all over the table and starts numbering them,” Estella said.

“He numbers them?” Rose asked.

“He does,” Estella said.

“How many are there?” Rose asked.

“Any number of them,” Estella laughed. “Get it? Any number of them?”

“I don’t get it,” Diamond frowned. “But then, I’m not married so I’m not supposed to get it yet, am I?”

“I got it before I was married,” Esmeralda smiled.

“You didn’t!” Estella said.

“I did,” Esmeralda said, proudly.

“From who?” Estella asked.

“From Saradoc, of course and only the once,” Esmeralda said.

“Only once in all these years?” Diamond frowned.

The others giggled at her. “No, only once before they were married, silly,” Estella said.

“Oh, then I win that one too,” Diamond said, smugly.

Estella put her hands over her mouth and looked as if she might explode.

“You mean that you and Pippin have already done it?” Rose asked, wide-eyed.

“Done what?” Diamond asked.

“Had relations,” Estella whispered with a finger to her lips.

“Oh, well we both have lots of relations,” Diamond said, with a smile.

“Oh my,” Esmeralda smiled.

“That little imp,” Estella said, snickering. “And I’ll bet Merry knows about it too and didn’t tell me.”

“If Pippin knows, then Merry knows,” Rose said, draining her glass. “Which of those bottles is still full.” She strained her eyes to focus on the bottles.

“The one with the brandy in it,” Estella snickered.

Rose giggled and selected a bottle and held it upside down. “Well this is not the one.”

“It isn’t the one that what?” Estella said.

“It’s not the one with the brandy in it,” Rose said.

Estella lifted another one off of the table and drank directly from the bottle and then grinned. ‘This one is the one you want,” she belched.

“So, you and Pippin do it all of the time?” Rose asked Diamond as she refilled her glass.

“Do what?” Diamond asked.

“Have relations,” Esmeralda said.

“Of course we do,” Diamond said. “Pippin has relations and I have relations.”

“Not together?” Rose snorted.

“Well some of his relations are my relations and some of my relations are relations of his, but I have my own family and he has his family and so not all of our relations are the same relations and not all of them are related,” Diamond explained.

“Oh, those relations!” Esmeralda laughed. “We thought you were having sex.”

“With our relatives?” Diamond said, wrinkling her nose. “That would be dreadful!”

“No, not with them, with each other,” Rose said.

“Well, one time we almost_” but she never finished because she passed out cold next to her glass on the tabletop.

“She’s last out,” Rose said.

“You mean that she’s past out,” Estella corrected.

“Yes, I think she has,” Rose snickered.

“Not bad for her first time,” Esmeralda smiled. “Your first time you barely lasted through two rounds,” she said looking at Estella.

“I was a late bloomer, but I’ve im-im-im, got better!” she smiled.

“Here’s to Diamond! It’s good she’s taken to drink so well because after she marries Peregrin Took, she’ll need to hit the bottle often!” Rose said.

“To Diamond!”

~~~The End~~~

"A Toast!"

(Frodo is 26 and the Gaffer and Bilbo are old enough to know better. )

"No, not at all, Gaffer," Bilbo was saying as Frodo neared their corner table. "I’ve had way more than this in my time. You should try drinking with dwarves. They can really do justice to a keg of ale." Bilbo was leaning over his half empty mug of ale and smiling crookedly at Hamfast Gamgee whom most simply referred to as the Gaffer.

"I don’t know as I’d want to drink with ‘em," the Gaffer replied, speech slightly slurred. "If they drink as much as you say, there’d be not left for me." He and Bilbo burst into laughter at this and then both took a drink.

Frodo shook his head and frowned. This did not look good at all. He would have his hands full trying to get Bilbo back to Bag End. He also wondered if he should try to get the Gaffer home. The two were great friends in spite of the fact that Hamfast Gamgee worked for Bilbo as his gardener. It didn’t happen often, but when the two of them got together for a pint, they sometimes over-indulged.

"That’s the double with twarves," Bilbo admitted, grinning.

The Gaffer leaned an ear toward Bilbo and frowned. "That’s the what with who?"

"The dribble with twarfs," Bilbo said, louder. "They can be stingy too."

"Who can?" the Gaffer asked, still trying to sort things out.

"Dwarves, Gaffer," Bilbo said.

"Where?" Hamfast asked, standing and looking about the Green Dragon with interest.

Bilbo took hold of the Gaffer’s sleeve and pulled him back into his seat. ‘Not so loud," Bilbo suggested, loudly.

Frodo sighed and decided to make his presence know. He walked over and sat down next to Bilbo and smiled. ‘Hullo, Bilbo. Hullo, Gaffer," Frodo said. "Are you two enjoying your evening?"

"Frodo," Bilbo grinned. He then stood and waved at a serving lass. "Bring another round to my table. My nephew is here and he looks like he could use a pint!"

Frodo frowned and pulled Bilbo back into his seat. "I’m not very thirsty, Bilbo. I’ve just come to see when you are planning on coming home," Frodo said.

"Oh, well, I don’t know, my lad," Bilbo said and then looked at the Gaffer. "When are we going home?"

"Are you coming to my smial?" the Gaffer frowned confused.

"No," Bilbo said. Behind him the serving lass approached with three full mugs. She leaned over in front of Bilbo to sit down the drinks and he promptly began to look down the front of her dress and smile stupidly. "My, aren’t you a healthy lass! Frodo, you might consider asking this young lass over to Bag End sometime she has really got quite a -"

"Your drink is here, uncle," Frodo interrupted, quickly with a nervous glance at the serving lass who was now smirking at him.

"Why Mister Baggins, you are the charmer tonight, aren’t you?" she said, with a wink at Frodo who was blushing brightly.

Bilbo stood and then smiled at her. "I am always charming, my dear." He then lifted his new mug of ale and drank deeply, falling back into his seat with a thump.

The lass laughed as she left them and the Gaffer pushed Frodo’s mug over in front of him. "Drink up, lad. We’re way a head a ya!"

"Oh, I not thirsty, but I do thank you," Frodo said, pushing the mug back in the Gaffer’s direction.

"Now, Frodo, it isn’t polite to refuse a drink," Bilbo said, in a loud whisper. "You don’t wanna offend the Gaffer do you?"

"Do you?" the Gaffer asked and both Bilbo and the Gaffer leaned forward to look intently at Frodo.

"Well, no of course not," Frodo said, quickly and took the mug back. When they continued to watch him, he took a drink and then smiled. "Thank you."

Bilbo smiled at the Gaffer and said, loudly, "He’s a fine lad! I am very lucky to have him as my hair."

Frodo frowned. "I think you mean heir, uncle."

"I do and I said it!" Bilbo said, slapping his hand on the table top and looking over at the serving lass again. "Another lot of pints, if you please!"

"Don’t go correctin’ your elders, lad," the Gaffer put in. "It’s not proper!" He was also shouting and Frodo could see that others in the Dragon were starting to stare.

"Yes, sir,’ Frodo replied weakly and took another sip of his ale to steady his nerves.

"Did I order more pints?" Bilbo asked as the lass returned with another round of drinks.

"That you did," she said, again leaning in front of him as she sat down the drinks.

"I’ve seen those before," Bilbo said, looking down her bodice again happily. "But it is good to see them again."

Frodo turned up his mug and emptied it to avoid looking at the lass who was laughing a bit wickedly.

"You’ve seen what a’for?" the Gaffer asked.

"This lass has been kind enough to show me her-"

"Uncle, why don’t you drink you ale?" Frodo broke in. "It isn’t polite not to drink your ale."

"The lad’s right," the Gaffer said, pounding a fist on the table and glaring at Bilbo.

"No, no, it isn’t," Bilbo said. "I know better than that." He then drained his mug and smiled.

Frodo rolled his eyes. This was getting out of hand but he had no idea how to stop it. He also had the feeling that the serving lass was not the one to ask for help. She seemed to be encouraging this. Bilbo put both of his hands on the table and pulled himself to his feet. "Another lot of this ale for my friends!" he called out and Frodo heard several folks behind him laugh.

"Bilbo, don’t you think we should be getting back to Bag End now?" Frodo asked, dreading the return of the serving lass.

"Not now, Frodo lad," Bilbo smiled and patted Frodo ‘s arm a bit too hard. "I’ve just ordered another round of pints! Would be rude to leave now."

"Who’s leanin’ now?" the Gaffer asked, looking toward the door.

"I don’t know," Bilbo admitted and leaned over to look at the door also. "I didn’t see ‘em."

"Well, then why’d you bring it up?" the Gaffer asked, a bit annoyed.

"I don’t recall," Bilbo said and they both laughed and pounded on the table.

Frodo rubbed his temples and finished his mug of ale. The serving lass was back with another round and this time Bilbo stood to greet her. "My dear, it is so good to see them again," he said and leaned forward, falling face first into her cleavage.

Frodo groaned and stood to pull Bilbo upright but the lass had already pushed his uncle to his feet again and was now smiling at him. "My, what a greeting, Mister Baggins."

"Yes," Bilbo said, giggling. "It’s a bit dark in there. I didn’t think I’d find my way out."

Frodo sank to his chair and covered his face with both hands as the Gaffer laughed. "You hardly remember how to find your way in!" he shouted and pounded Bilbo on the back nearly knocking him into the lass again.

"Enjoy your drinks, gentleman," she said, and turned to go again.

"Thank you," the Gaffer said, giggling and dropped into his seat.

Bilbo leaned over the table, picked up his mug and raised it. In a very loud voice he announced, "A toast!" He then proceeded to drain his mug while everyone in the Dragon waited for the rest of the toast.

"A toast to what?" the Gaffer asked, still holding his own mug and waiting.

Bilbo frowned and looked into his own mug and said, "I can’t make a toast, Gaffer. I don’t have any ale." His eyes brightened and he called out. "Be a good lass and bring us more ale! I want to make a toast!"

From behind him Frodo heard her reply. "I’d be more than happy to, Mister Baggins."

"She’d be more than happy to what?" the Gaffer asked.

"I don’t know, but if she’s happy, I’m happy," Bilbo said, grinning and then he elbowed Frodo and winked at him. At least he tried to wink, but instead he closed both eyes. "It’s dark in here," he complained.

"Open your eyes, " the Gaffer said, snorting.

"Bilbo, I really do think that we should be going," Frodo said.

Just then the lass returned with more pints and sat them on the table. This time the Gaffer leered at her and said, "Well, I hope your happy!"

She smiled. "I am, Gaffer."

"Good cause if your happy, your happy," he said, smiling back.

"A toast, again," Bilbo said, not bothering to stand. "Here’s to my lad, Frodo! The finest lad in all the sire!"

Frodo sank a bit lower in his chair and drained a mug of ale. "Here’s to me," he mumbled.

"To Frobo Daggins!" the Gaffer said, helpfully.

"Oh, look, my pints gone again," Bilbo complained. "Did I toast my make yet?" He giggled at his mistake and tried again. "Did I make my most yet?"

"Shall I bring more ale?" the lass asked. She had been standing there waiting and Frodo suspected that had been a very good idea. It would save her a trip.

"Good idea!" the Gaffer said, pleased with her offer.

"Yes, and bring back those lovely, large, soft-"

"Here, Bilbo," Frodo said and pushed one of his mugs in Bilbo’s direction. "Have mine while you wait."

"You are a good lad Frodo," Bilbo said, accepting it. "Bring an extra one of these for my Frodo!" he shouted and waved a hand in the direction that the lass had moved off in.

Frodo selected one of his still-full mugs and took a sip as the Gaffer said, "I think that lass is starting to warm up to you." He winked at Frodo who then drained his mug of ale.

"Oh, yes, she is quite fond of me," Bilbo said, mistaking the Gaffer’s remark. "She’s showed me her-"

"She’s showed ‘em ta everyone you old drunk," the Gaffer laughed.

"Not as many times as she’s showed hers to mine!" Bilbo shouted, still smiling.

Frodo watched as the lass sat more drinks down on the table. For some odd reason, the table seemed to be moving and this struck Frodo as funny. He giggled and said, "Look, Bilbo the table is moving."

"It does that after a time," Bilbo said and then looked up at the lass. "You’re starting to warm me up aren’t you?"

She smiled at him and said, "I have been for some time now." She then walked away, laughing.

Bilbo looked at the Gaffer and did the two-eyed wink again and then said, "See, she’s warmed over to me you old fool."

"Well, there’s a surprise," the Gaffer said. "Does she know how old you are?’

"I don’t know but I know how old I are so we don’t have to ask her," Bilbo said.

Frodo smiled at them both and watched as they began to spin in the opposite direction from the table. "Spinning and spinning," he said, as his elbows slid out from under him and his face fell to the table.

Bilbo smiled at the Gaffer and announced, "Too much Brundybunk in the lad. He can’t hold his liquor."

The Gaffer nodded. "Some folks oughtin’ ta drink!" he yelled out and pointed to Frodo who was giggling softly.

"I’ll drink his for him so he can keep up," Bilbo said, taking Frodo’s mug and raising it. "A toast!"

It was the last thing that Frodo heard for quite a while.

~~~The End~~~

“Did I mention that Gimli is here?”

“How many of these have you had?” Merry frowned as he sat down on the worn brown sofa next to Pippin. He pointed an accusing finger at the collection of ale bottles decorating the table and the floor around the sofa. The bottles looked like tiny, brown soldiers steadfastly maintaining their watch. Several of them clinked together as Merry sat down. Their close proximity to the sofa made disturbing them unavoidable.

“Not nearly so many as it must seem,” Pippin said in a clear voice without the slightest trace of a slur. He looked a bit glassy-eyed but he seemed alert.

“That is very good to hear,” Merry said relieved. “At first glance I suspected that you might have over-indulged.” Merry glanced at the bottles on the table and quickly counted twenty. “If you didn’t drink all of these then who did?”

“I’m not entirely clear on that point,” Pippin said with a slight frown. “The lot of them were just here when I woke up. I think I slept on the sofa last night, Merry.” Pippin ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “I may have drank some of them. Come to think of it since I don’t exactly remember deciding to sleep on the sofa so I must have drank some of them.” He squinted at the bottles. “It’s very hard to tell if any of them are mine. They all look alike. Oh, except for that one over near the edge of the table. I think it’s half full.” He squinted again.

Merry looked over at the mantle and saw a slightly crooked line of ale bottles decorating its surface as well. He looked at Pippin again. “Who was here last night?”

Pippin was fiddling with a cork that he had found on the sofa. “I think I slept on this cork. I have a place in the center of my back about this size that is aching. You wouldn’t think that such a small thing would be able to cause much discomfort would you?” Pippin said ignoring Merry’s question completely and continuing to inspect the cork.

Merry sighed. It would do no good to try and force information out of Pippin. His cousin was barely awake and most of his attention seemed to be devoted to his surroundings rather than to Merry and his questions. Merry watched as Pippin reached his hand underneath a sofa cushion and removed a pipe. “I wonder who this belongs to?” Pippin said, forgetting the cork now and studying the pipe.

“I wonder if it was still lit when it found its way into our sofa cushions,” Merry said growing slightly irritated now.

Pippin sniffed it and peered with one sleepy green eye into the bowl of the pipe and said, “If it was lit then, it’s out now.” He held it out to Merry. “See, no smoke.”

Merry snatched the pipe out of Pippin’s hand. “It would seem that one of your guests tried to burn our house down,” Merry said. “Just exactly what went on here last night while I was up at the Hall visiting my parents?”

“I am assuming that someone came by for drinks and a smoke,” Pippin said. He didn’t seem to realize that Merry was on the verge of throttling him. “That would explain the pipe and the bottles.”

Before Merry could explode Pippin retrieved something else from the sofa cushions. It was a large piece of cheese that was now covered with lint from the sofa. Pippin sniffed. “I suspect that this isn’t any good now,” Pippin said wrinkling up his nose and tossing the cheese over onto the table amid the bottles. “I guess whoever came by must have eaten too.” Pippin reached his hand into the sofa cushions again as if fishing for something more while Merry attempted to control his growing annoyance.

“I think Merimas is sleeping under your kitchen table, Pip,” Berilac said as he entered the room. “Oh, hullo, Merry. When did you get here?”

Merry looked over at his Brandybuck cousin who was standing in the doorway between the parlor and the hall and frowned. “Not nearly soon enough,” Merry said. “What went on here last night?”

“Is it morning?” Berilac asked.

“It’s nearly time for elevenses,” Merry said.

“Funny, I don’t remember having either breakfast yet,” Berilac said.

“Then I don’t suppose that is your cheese,” Pippin observed pointing to the chunk of cheddar on the table.

“No,” Berilac said. “Maybe Merimas ate in here before he went to sleep under the kitchen table.”

Before Pippin could respond to this Falco Boffins pushed his way past Berilac, walked over to the table and picked up the half-full bottle of ale. He leaned his head back and took a long gulp. “I wondered where I’d left that,” he said. “Hullo, Merry. When did you turn up?”

Merry opened his mouth to respond and Falco belched. Falco pressed a hand over his mouth and belched again. He then looked down at the ale bottle in his hand and said, “I think maybe that was one drink too many for me.”

“Laddy, where do you keep your privy?” a gruff voice called out from one of the other rooms in the house and Merry’s eyes widened.

“Merry! I just remembered!” Pippin grinned. “Gimli’s here and he brought some ale with him!”

“He’s really an all right sort for a dwarf,” Falco whispered loudly. “Drinks like a Brandybuck, though.”

Gimli entered the room scowling, eyes squinted even more than usual, boots missing and stocking feet visible beneath his trousers. Merry wasn’t sure that he’d ever seen Gimli without his boots on. “Where’s the privy, Pippin-lad?” Gimli demanded.

Pippin smiled. “I forgot you were here, Gimli.”

Gimli grunted. He then caught sight of Merry and his eyes widened. “Hello, young hobbit,” he said. “When did you get here?”

“Not long ago,” Merry said managing to tear his gaze away from Gimli’s feet. “And when did you arrive Gimli?”

“Yesterday in time for supper,” Gimli said. He cleared his throat and looked at Pippin. “About that privy, lad?”

As Pippin seemed uncertain of the answer to Gimli’s question, Merry grinned and replied, “Just down the hall and to the left.”

Gimli made a hasty retreat and Pippin looked over at Merry again. “Gimli cook roasted pork last night if you’re hungry, Merry. I think there was some of it left.” Pippin licked his lips and said, “Good old Gimli. He’s a fine cook you know. Oh, and he brought some ale with him too.”

That was when Merry realized what had troubled him most about the bottles. They weren’t Shire ale. Merry reached down and picked up one of the bottles on the floor next to the sofa and peered at the label. “Pippin this is dwarvish ale!”

“I know,” Pippin nodded pleasantly. “Did I tell you Gimli is here?”

Merry ignored Pippin and stood to face Falco and Berilac. “Who exactly is here besides the two of you, Pippin, Gimli and Merimas?” Merry asked.

“Is Merimas still here?” Falco asked looking at Berilac.

“In the kitchen under the table,” Berilac said rubbing his head.

“Gimli told Merimas that he could drink him under the table and he did it,” Pippin crowed from the sofa.

“Gimli could drink most of the Shire under a table,” Merry said. “Now, who else is here?”

“Freddy is here somewhere,” Falco supplied.

“And Sam Gamgee,” Berilac said.

“Merry?” Pippin said.

“Yes, Pip?” Merry answered knowing what was coming.

“Gimli’s here!” Pippin smiled and then he raised up his hand. “I found another cork!”

“That’s the same one, Pippin,” Merry sighed.

“No, that one was in my other hand,” Pippin said. “This is a different one. It’s over here.” He waved the cork at Merry and smiled. Then Pippin suddenly frowned. “How much did you have to drink, Merry?”

“Not nearly enough,” Merry sighed.

Falco extended the bottle he was holding out to Merry. “I’m finished with mine if you want the rest of it.” He belched again.

Behind Falco Sam came into the parlor wearing a paper crown and Merry’s dressing gown. He smiled at Merry. “Mister Merry! I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “Did you know that Mister Gimli is here too?”

“Pippin may have mentioned it,” Merry said trying not to smirk at Sam’s crown. “Why are you wearing that crown, Sam?”

“Sam’s been crowned King of the Shire,” Falco said draping an arm over Sam’s shoulders. Sam stood there looking very pleased with himself, his paper crown tilting to one side. “He beat out Freddy for it.”

“Just as well too as Freddy would have made a dreadful King,” Pippin said still staring at the cork.

“Why would Freddy have been a dreadful King?” Merry asked unable to resist.

“Because the crown doesn’t fit him properly,” Pippin said. “Freddy’s got a melon for a skull. Sam’s head is smaller. That’s what makes him such a splendid King!”

“Mister Pippin made the crown hisself,” Sam said adjusting it on his head with pride.

“Pippin has always excelled at arts and crafts,” Merry said sarcastically.

Freddy hurried into the room waving a hand in front of his nose. “Whatever you do, stay out of the privy. I think something died in there,” he warned. “I had to hold my nose while I was watering the garden.”

“You pissed in our garden?” Pippin asked looking appalled.

“No, but I might have if I’d known how foul your privy smells,” Freddy said and held his nose.

“It’s an expression,” Berilac hissed at Pippin. “Watering the garden. It means takin’ a leak.”

“Oh,” Pippin said. “I knew that.” He rubbed at his eyes and then frowned. “I think I’ve lost my corks.” He began to search about in the cracks of the sofa cushions.

Merry sniffed the air. “Do I smell smoke?” he asked.

“That’s just Falco,” Berilac said waving a hand. “He got a bit too close to the fire while that dwarf was cooking last night and he’s smelled of smoked meat ever since.”

“It ain’t altogether unpleasant, Mister Merry,” Sam said inhaling. “Is there any of that pork left? It’d be fine with breakfast.”

There was a knock on the front door and Pippin shouted, “Enter the realm of King Sam, Lord of the Shire!”

Merry groaned as Sam straightened up a bit and adjusted his paper crown. Freddy and Falco bowed to Sam and Berilac belched again. “I’m surrounded by drunken nit wits,” Merry muttered.

Legolas cautiously entered the house bending down so that his head would not hit the doorframe. He looked about the room curiously and then smiled at Merry. “It is very good to see you again, Merry,” Legolas said.

“Oh!” Pippin shouted before Merry could respond. “Legolas is here too, Merry!”

“Thank you for telling me, Pip,” Merry sighed. “Hullo, Legolas. Where you here for the coronation of King Sam too?”

Legolas looked at Sam’s crown and then at Merry. “I was in need of fresh air and so after greeting Pippin and talking for a while, I left to wander your woods for a time,” Legolas said. “I see that I have missed much during my time away.” The elf looked at the army of bottles. “Gimli has unpacked the ale.”

“Legolas, you’ve returned from your walk,” Gimli said as he entered the parlor now wearing his boots. “You missed the roasted pork.”

“If there’s any left, Mister Legolas,” Sam grinned. “I’ll fix it up with breakfast.”

“Someone should build a fire!” Pippin said happily.

“No more fires,” Merry said.

“But King Sam is going to cook,” Pippin objected. “He’ll need a proper fire befitting a Kingly King of his Kingdom.”

“How many of these ales did you drink Pippin?” Merry asked.

“Five!” Pippin shouted proudly.

“Only five?” Merry frowned.

“When I lost count I was at five,” Pippin said. “I couldn’t remember when you asked me that before but now I remember and I had five.” Pippin held up a hand and grinned at Merry. “I may have had more but that was because we were toasting Sam’s Kingdom and Gimli being here. Also nothing goes better with roasting pork then Dwarf Ale.”

“Dwarvish ale goes well with everything, Laddy,” Gimli said winking at Pippin.

Pippin grinned back and tried to wink but only succeeded in blinking both eyes rapidly several times. “Gimli brought plenty of it, Merry. You should have some,” Pippin said still blinking.

Merry looked over at Legolas helplessly as Sam said, “Dwarf ale for all of my Kingdom!”

Gimli said. “They had a bit too much to drink.” Then he pointed to Sam and Pippin.

“So have I,” Pippin said. “Gimli, have you seen a couple of corks about anywhere. I lost mine.”

Berilac sat down on the floor next to Sam’s feet and grinned up at Sam and waved. Sam leaned over and waved back.

“What are we going to do with them?” Merry frowned at Gimli.

“They’ll sleep it off, Laddy,” Gimli said.

“First they have to fall asleep,” Merry said.

“Dwarvish ale is very strong,” Gimli said. “I’ve been noticin’ that Hobbits can drink it well enough, better than men in fact, but it does seem to stay with them for a while.”

“I wish I could find my corks,” Pippin frowned.

“It’s in your hand, Pippin,” Merry sighed.

“No they aren’t, Merry,” Pippin said. “If they were then that would have been the first place that I looked.” Pippin held up both hands and opened them and the cork fell to the floor at his feet. Grinning, Pippin pointed down at it. “See it wasn’t in my hand. It was on the floor.” He scratched his head. “I wonder where the other one is.”

“I wish we had some more of that fine pork,” Freddy said looking over at Gimli. “If Falco can stay back from the fire then maybe we can cook some more. Do we have more?”

“More what?” Berilac asked from his seat on the floor.

“Fire, you ninny,” Pippin said. “I’ll get us some more fire.” Pippin stood up, weaved around the table and then pitched forward onto his face.

Legolas and Merry hurried over to him and as Legolas turned Pippin over Merry said, “Pippin, are you all right? Pippin?”

“I think some of old Gandalf’s fireworks just went off in my head,” Pippin said as Legolas cradled Pippin’s head in his lap. “It was one of the big ones!”

“Them were the finest fireworks I ever did see,” Sam said thoughtfully.

“I fell down Merry,” Pippin said.

“I know, Pip,” Merry sighed.

Pippin rubbed his nose with one hand. “I think I may have broke my nose when those blasted fireworks went off.”

“Perhaps you should lay down for a while,” Legolas suggested.

“Hullo, Legolas,” Pippin chirped. “I am laying down.”

“How long exactly do you think it might take for this to wear off, Gimli?” Merry asked.

“What has to wear off of Gimli?” Pippin asked.

“Hard to say,” Gimli frowned.

“Merry?” Pippin said.

“Yes, Pip?”

“Did I remember to tell you that Gimli and Legolas are here?”

Enough already…..

G.W. 11/06/2005

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