Back at the dinning area, Pippin and Fatty were casually walking along the dessert tables. Pies lined the table and the two hobbits were eager to begin sampling the treats. The prize dishes at the tables were Mrs. Maggot’s pies, though some of the other’s there were equally enjoyable. However, the blueberry and cream pies made by the farmer’s wife were always the talk of the town after the fall festival.

Taking some plates, Pippin and Fatty began to select a few slices for themselves. They filled their plates with each variety of pie and then left to find a table. As they did so, Pippin noticed Merry sitting by himself at a table in the back. Deciding to join his cousin, Pippin motioned for Fatty to follow him over to meet Merry.

Merry was quietly drinking an ale. He did not see Pippin or Fatty come to his table at first. He was deep in self-pity after the night he was having. He couldn’t help but wonder what he did to deserve such a night.

“Hello, Meriadoc!” Pippin greeted as he put a slice of pie in front of his cousin.

“You look unhappy,” Fatty then commented.

Merry looked up and forced a pleasant smile, “Oh, nothing is wrong. I was just contemplating whether I want to get up for another ale.”

Pippin chuckled and ate a piece of his pie. “That is amazing. I would think you would have been passed out by now with all you have consumed earlier.”

“And what about you, Peregrin?” Merry asked defensively. “After that pie contest, I am surprised you want to look at another, let alone eat one.”

“Too each his own,” commented Pippin.

The three hobbits continued to sit, eat, and chat with each other. The dinner area was beginning to clear out. Hobbits were saying their good byes and gathering the left over plates and containers to take home. Laughter and merriment were still heard through out the pavilion and it lightened Merry's heart. He sat and laughed with his two friends and finished his pie. When he was done, Merry pushed his plate away and sighed, “Well, that was delicious!”

Pippin and Fatty were about to agree when they were interrupted by an angry voice. They looked over to their left and saw May-Belle Greenhill marching towards the table. “Meriadoc Brandybuck, I am going to strangle you!” she yelled.

“Oh, this does not look good,” Pippin muttered as he stood. “Come on Fatty, let’s go see if Mrs. Maggot has any more pie left.”

The other hobbit agreed and followed Pippin, leaving Merry alone to deal with the angry hobbitess himself. He sat up straight and smiled politely at May-Belle. “Hello May-Belle, did you meet up with Frodo?”

“Yes, but not before being completely embarrassed first. How could you mess up my message like that?” said May-Belle. Her face was red with irritation and her eyes gleamed with a harsh, angered light.

At first, Merry did not understand what happened. What did she mean ‘he messed up her message?’ Looking at the hobbitess with a confused look, Merry was about to asked for an explanation and then saw Frodo, Sam, and Rose walking up behind May-Belle. “May-Belle, I don’t understand, what did I do?”

“You sent MY message to Sam instead of Frodo, you louse!” May-Belle snapped.

Merry looked at May-Belle then the others and finally, it hit him; he mixed up the girls’ messages. He looked at May-Belle apologetically, “I am sorry, I assure you, it was a mistake.”

“Sorry, does not make things better, Merry,” May-Belle said angrily. She walked over to Merry, causing the older hobbit to hop out of his seat to get away from the hobbitess. Merry did not trust the girl; there was no telling what she might to in her state of mind.

“I said I was sorry, I got a little preoccupied and it was an accident.” Merry pleaded.

“I do not like being made a fool of, Meriadoc!” May-Belle went on. She then walked around the table to get to Merry but Merry countered by scurrying to the other side of the table. The game of ‘cat and mouse’ continued for a few moments before Frodo decided to try and calm everyone down.

“Let us talk this out, shall we?” he asked but neither listened to him. Merry tried to run away and May-Belle was right at his tail. The two made it towards the dessert table and Merry went to one side, using the table as a barrier between him and May-Belle.

As Merry shifted to the right, May-Belle tried to cut him off. She eventually caught the hobbit, shoved him against a pile of bear barrels, and held on to his vest. “Come on, May-Belle,” Merry huffed. He tried to struggle out of the girl’s grip, but he soon found that an unhappy hobbitess was not someone he wanted to mess with, so he stayed in place and tried to reason with her. “It is not like Frodo wanted to meet you anyway.”

May-Belle stopped and stood in shock. She could not believe that Merry had just said that to her. She wanted to cry from the humiliation but found she could not. Anger and embarrassment soared trough her body and as a response, she grabbed a pie plate that was sitting on the table and was about to jam it into Merry’s face. At this time, Frodo saw what was about to occur and came in between Merry and May-Belle in an attempt to stop the fighting. Unfortunately, Frodo was unable to stop May-Belle from her actions and it was him, not Merry, whose face was covered with blueberry pie.

Everyone at the table looked in shock. They could not believe what May-Belle just did to Frodo Baggins. Now the respected and proper hobbit was covered with pie. It was quite a humorous sight and laughter began to fill the pavilion. Samwise also began to chuckle. “Goodness me, now that’s a sight, Mr. Frodo.”

Frodo calmly looked at Sam as he wiped the dessert from his face. Luckily, the blue berry filling hid Frodo’s reddened face. After a moment of collecting his thoughts, Frodo picked up his own pie dish. “You think that was funny, Sam?” he asked before smashing the dessert in the younger hobbit’s face.

“Oh, just lovely,” Sam grunted as he searched for something to clean his face with.

“Lovely, indeed!” Rose laughed. “I knew you had a sweet face, Samwise, but this is ridiculous!”

Sam looked over to Rose and gave her a devilish grin. He said nothing too her, instead, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a deep, passionate, pie filled kiss. Rose let out a shriek from the impact and began to giggle uncontrollably. When she pulled away from Sam, pie filling and crust stuck to her nose and lips.

This caused both May-Belle and Frodo to laugh. However, they would not be laughing for long because Rose picked up two pie dishes and tossed them both at Frodo and May-Belle. Soon, all four hobbits were throwing pie at each other. Dessert flew everywhere and other hobbits passing by looked at the quartet and scurried away to get out of the battle zone. Everyone was laughing and slipping along the mess on the ground. As the fight continued, Merry decided they should stop; people were beginning to stare. He grabbed a bench from a table and climbed up on top of it, trying to get the attention of the four. “Fella’s! Let’s stop this shall we?” he asked in his loudest voice. “You are not setting a very good example for the children.”

Silence erupted between Frodo, Sam, May-Belle, and Rose and then suddenly, to Merry’s dismay, pies of all shapes and flavors came pummeling at Merry, knocking him off his bench and onto the ground. Before long, he was covered from head to foot in pie. May-Belle looked down to Merry with a grin, she was holding the last pie. “Happy Harvest, Meriadoc,” she said before slamming the pie into the Brandybuck’s face. She then walked away with a pleased smile on her face.

At that moment, Mrs. Maggot walked into the dessert area to see all of her prize-winning pies splattered on tables and various other hobbits. He was unsure of what to saw when she saw Merry laying on the ground, covered in pie. Too shocked and aggravated to ask many questions, he grabbed Merry by his collar and pulled him over to the tables. “Mr. Brandybuck, I don’t know what happened here, but you are not leaving this pavilion until every last inch is cleaned up, do you understand? And then, you can stay and help clean up the rest of the dining tents,” she instructed sternly.

Merry groaned unpleasantly at the words, what a night. Why him, of all hobbits, did everything happen to him? Grabbing some cloths and a bucket of water, Merry went to work cleaning the pavilion.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Pippin and Fatty were sitting at a table by themselves and eating the last of their own pies. Silently, they watched the dispute between the five hobbits contentedly. Pippin took his last bite and smiled, “Nothing like Mrs. Maggot’s blueberry pie to end the night.”

“Indeed,” Fatty responded and put his dish aside on the table.

Watching the fight, Pippin chuckled thoughtfully, “and they say WE are immature.”

“We aren’t?” asked Fatty sarcastically. He then laughed and stood up. It was late, he was tired and was ready to begin his trip home.

“So, Fatty,” Pippin said as he stood. “How about we go three out of five for that drinking game?”

Fatty however, shook his head ‘no.’ “I won fair and square. But do not worry, Peregrin; doing my chores for a week won’t be so bad.”

Pippin sighed and nodded, accepting his fate, but he soon brought his head up with a smile. “Well, at least I beat you in the pie contest.”

“I let you win,” Fatty retorted. He smiled, pleased to see the shocked reaction on Pippin’s face, and patted the younger hobbit on the back, “See you in a week.” He then walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Harvest Festival was finally coming to a close. The tables were empty of food and were being packed up. Dishes were being washed in the kitchen area and the lanterns that hung from the trees were being taken down. Laughter still ran through the area, but it was distant and faint.

Frodo walked towards May-Belle, who was sitting by herself at a table. She was covered with pie, hunched over with her elbows on her knees and staring off thoughtfully into the distance. She did not seem happy. Sitting beside the girl, Frodo offered her a damp cloth to wash her face with. He did the same with his own cloth.

May-Belle took the offered cloth and slowly wiped her face in silence. She was embarrassed and uncomfortable sitting with Frodo. He knew she liked him and she could only guess what he thought of her.

A chilled wind past the two hobbits as they sat and May-Belle shivered slightly. She looked up to Frodo, her eyes sad with embarrassment. She looked away and wiped her eyes, drying them slightly. Frodo noticed she was upset and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, letting her know things were fine between them.

“I am so sorry, Frodo,” May-Belle said in a quiet voice. She was obviously fighting off the sobs in her throat.

“For what? The pie?” Frodo asked with a polite smile. “It is all right; what is blueberry pie filling among friends? Nothing is hurt, except Bilbo’s vest suit.”

May-Belle looked up to Frodo then to see the older hobbit smiling. However, Frodo’s light-heartedness did not cheer the girl up too much. She still felt like a fool. She forced a smirk but her face soon fell into another frown. “Seriously, you must think I am an immature fool. I don’t know what I was thinking; asking you to meet me in such a secluded spot.” She sniffled and brought the cloth up to her eyes again and turned her head away from Frodo, not wanting to look at him. “I just wanted a chance to talk to you and prove to you that I was more than just another farm girl. Then, maybe you would show a little more interest in me.”

Frodo lowered his head in thought, keeping his eyes on May-Belle the entire time. He knew she was not a bad girl. She was young, naive and didn’t think the situation through. He was not mad and he thought no less of the lass. “May-Belle, I know why you wanted to meet me, and I am flattered, honestly, I am,” Frodo started, tightening his grip around May-Belle’s arm comfortingly.

“But,” May-Belle added, urging him to continue.

“But, I am not looking for a relationship. It is not you, I am just not interested right now.” Frodo looked at May-Belle and knew his words were not helping. “You’ll find someone, maybe someone closer to your age and interests,” he added.

May-Belle looked up at Frodo with curiosity; he was being so kind to her. Surly after all that had happened tonight, he wouldn’t want to be near her. She shook her head in protests to Frodo’s words, but before she could say anything, Frodo went on.

“You are a lovely, sweet lass, with a strong arm,” Frodo grinned playfully. “A lad would go mad if they were not interested in you.”

May-Belle nodded reluctantly, “Perhaps. But after tonight, I don’t think anyone would want to come near me.”

“That is not true, you just have to stop trying so hard. Stop trying to find love, love shall find you,” Frodo explained.

May-Belle blushed and smiled, enlightened by the thought. “I suppose you are right.”

“Of course,” Frodo stated as he stood up and extended his hand to May-Belle. “Come on, I will walk you home.”

A light wind blew the tents of the pavilion. The faint candlelight soon diminished and the crowd slowly disappeared. The night was over but not forgotten. It would always be a night to remember, at least until the next Harvest Festival.

The End