Author: Sam

Story: The Games We Play: 3 of 15

Series: n/a

Note: Here is a translation of all the games into our terms, but for complete instructions as to how to play them, please contact me privately: *Mentioned by one of the actors, ^From childhood, ~A blend of other games.

Feedback: Yes, please? Especially constructive. samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

Webpage: http://www.oocities.org/samwise_baggins/index.html

Pippin sat, a bit bored, in the fair autumn light. Late birds still sang in the trees, rustling about for food or comfort, adding a bit of gaiety to the quiet morning air. A light breeze made things a bit cooler than the sun deluded one it would be, but it wasn't an unpleasant chill. It actually reminded one of autumn in the Shire, if one didn't think too closely about all the trees and waterfalls and Elves.

Yes... that's what made this place truly seem odd: the Elves. It wasn't that Pippin disliked Elves, far from it, but they were rather wise and serious and... well... prosy. Poetry, songs, long ballads... those seemed to be the lifeblood of Elves. And it was all good in its place, but the youngest Hobbit craved something a bit more... frolicsome. He wanted activity and laughter and fun. What Peregrin Took wanted right then was a game. True, he could hunt up Merry for a good romp, and the other day he'd even played Jump Squares with Lord Elrond, the frighteningly serious Lord of Rivendell, but he wanted something else, something more.

A sudden smile crossed the adorable features of the Hobbit and he nodded. What he wanted was something like that first game... the Dodge It game they'd played with the entire Fellowship. That had been really very fun. But what game could they play with that many people? He wanted something new, and knew that Gandalf didn't approve of Blind Dodge because people tended to bump into things with blindfolds on.

The Took lad sat on the engraved bench, short legs swinging as he couldn't reach the ground from a seat made so high, thinking. What game? What game? Oh! With a hop from his perch, Pippin tore off through the gardens, intent on tracking down someone from the Fellowship to aid him in persuading the rest to play such an active game.

As he reached the steps of the great house, Pip slowed then halted. If he got Merry, they might not be able to convince the others just how good an idea it would be to forget dignity and such to play something. He frowned. Who could help him? Who would want to?

One slow step at a time, as he thought over all of his options, the Hobbit made his way up the low steps and into the great chamber. He barely noticed his beautiful, airy surroundings. Who? Who? Who? Who... Oh! Pip's face split into a wide, engaging grin and he turned a corner, running again, ignoring the startled looks from the Elves still not used to his youthful enthusiasm.

Slamming a door open, grinning and panting, Pippin never stopped his headlong dash. Rather, he flung himself at the startled Man who turned to see who'd invaded his chamber. "Boromir! Hello, play a game with me?"

Taken by surprise, the tall blond could merely stare, mouth slightly opened. He blinked startled green eyes and backed up a step from the bundle of energy that had thrown itself into his room, reminding him of his brother, Faramir, when the younger Man had been a youth. The memory of his beloved brother moved the Man to speak more gently than he might have to the near stranger. "A game? Is that why you come in as if the hounds of death are at your heels?" He hid the smile which wanted to spring up, trying to figure out which halfling this particular one was.

"I'm bored and want a game, and knew you'd be bored, as well. You were so good at Dodge It, I thought you'd be wanting a bit of play again. The day is pretty."

Raising a hand, Boromir stemmed the flow of words pouring from the Hobbit. "Shouldn't you be training for the journey ahead, little one? It is no picnic we go into." He did smile at this, however. True, this dark haired bundle of energy looked nothing like Faramir, but his enthusiasm was the same... until Faramir had gotten older and more interested in lore and wisdom.

Pip laughed and grabbed for Boromir's hand, tugging it. "Sitting around all day and listening to songs won't get me trained any better, Boromir. But playing a rousing game should keep me fit enough. Come, you want a game as much as I." He tugged again, his engaging grin answering the Man's ever increasing smile.

The son of the Steward of Gondor laughed. "I want a game, do I?" He started to relax, realizing that this wasn't the Ring-Bearer, as he had at first feared. "So, what game do I wish for..." what was the name of the other dark-haired Hobbit? Yes, "Peregrin, isn't it?"

"Oh, call me Pippin, or Pip if you'd rather. I like it just the same. You want something active which involves running around and a bit of showing off. Come along, Boromir." This time when Pip tug, the Man followed, laughing softly. At least he hadn't protested, and the rest of the Fellowship should be quite willing to play a game if he supported Pippin. After all, this was the most withdrawn member so far, aside from Gimli the Dwarf. "We need find the others so they can join."

"Oh, and where's that young scamp you normally play with?" Taking a stab in the dark, he continued, "Sam, isn't it?" He realized his error as Pippin broke into delighted laughter.

Amused, the young Hobbit continued chuckling, exclaiming "Sam? Oh, no, Sam's not really into mischief, Boromir. You're meaning my cousin Merry. Sam is Frodo's servant, and will play if Frodo tells him to, but he doesn't often join our games unless prodded more than you."

A nod was Boromir's only answer. He really hadn't time for more, as he was suddenly grabbed by the other hand by Merry. It must have been Merry, as the gray-eyed laughing Hobbit was the very one Boromir had recalled as being the instigator of Dodge It a few days previously.

Merry grinned and nodded. "A game, Pippin? Or are you just walking with him?"

With a wide grin, Pippin chirruped, "Oh, we're to play a game. Boromir's agreed to help get the rest of the Fellowship in so we can have loads of fun and exercise. We need to stay fit before we leave, of course, and this is the way I choose to."

"Of course." Merry sounded amused. He let go of Boromir's hand and ran ahead, stopping as he came to Gandalf. "You'll join our game, Gandalf, won't you?"

The Wizard turned slowly, frowning softly down at the Hobbit. Slowly, he lifted his eyes, not showing his surprise to see Boromir being led by the hand, Pippin the one doing the tugging. In a clear, calling voice, he asked, "And what game are we to play, Peregrin Took? It must be something the others will want to play. Have you thought of something Elves and Dwarves and Men would play with Hobbits?"

Boromir added his own condition, "and one with exercise in it, or I go to the training field, little ones." He was smiling, still holding Pip's hand, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Perhaps later he might wonder why he'd taken to relating to Pippin as if he'd known the young Hobbit his entire life.

"Oh, I've got the perfect game!" Pippin grinned up at Boromir, finding he really did like green eyes; they seemed so warm and friendly. "We can play Sing Out. It's loads of fun and any group can play. It's easy."

The blond Hobbit shook his head. "He wants more of a challenge. Eggs, Bacon, Sugar, Tea is energetic and has a challenge to it." He hadn't played that since he was small, and found himself strangely eager to play.

Shaking his head, Gandalf disagreed. "These people are not used to Hobbit games, Meriadoc. They may never be ready for that particular one. Sing Out will do; let us find the others." Amused, he looked over at the pair, Human and Hobbit, still standing there. "We may even be able to persuade an Elf or two to join.

The youngest Hobbit nodded eagerly. "I would hope so. Legolas is an Elf and we want the entire Fellowship to play. He tugged at Boromir's hand once more, leading the group towards the room he'd often found Gimli in.

His guess had been correct. The Dwarf stood, intently studying a beautifully worked spear engraved with Elvish runes. He stood to the side of a large room lined tastefully with weaponry and armor. It wasn't a haphazard mix of equipment set aside for times of war. The weaponry chamber of Imladris, or Rivendell in the Westron tongue, had been specifically designed to display rather than contain. The walls, shelves, hooks, and stands were arranged to best display whatever was there, the runes catching the light perfectly to display the stories engraved there for all to enjoy. In fact, Gimli had homed in on the most noted weapon in the room: the Spear of Gil-galad.

True to his own nature, Pippin seemed oblivious of the quiet grandeur of the vast chamber. As Boromir hesitated, taking in the room for the first time, the youngest of the Hobbits let go of his companion's hand and ran excitedly up to the Dwarven warrior. "Gimli? Come; let's play a game. You can look at spears and armor later; the sun shines right now."

Turning, frowning, the Dwarf made a noise low in his throat, the meaning of which was unclear to those present. He glanced over at Merry and Gandalf then at Boromir, who stared in fascination at the spear in the Dwarf's solid, sure hands. Finally, he rested his warm brown eyes on Pippin, though the expression was unreadable at the moment. "And who will be playing this game, young Hobbit?" At least he hadn't turned down the idea out of hand.

Coming out of his daze, Boromir looked at Gimli. "We're trying to get the Fellowship together, as we had the other day. Pippin wishes to play a game called Sing Out and has assured that it is an active game." He moved closer to the Dwarf, trying to better see the spear, regretting his promise to spend the day playing when there was such a room to explore.

Gently, almost reverently, the Dwarf put the spear back on the rack. He'd been surprised when he'd first stumbled upon the room, days ago, and was not stopped when he'd reached for a small sword. Lord Elrond, in fact, had encouraged his guest to look at the weapons and learn their histories, even offering to translate for him if needed. The Elven Lord had seemed eager to promote a future understanding between their races.

The warrior turned once more and nodded. "An athletic game would be welcome. I would normally suspect a singing game to be other than active, but you Hobbits have yet to cease your surprises, so I will trust it is as active as I might wish." He slipped his thumbs into his heavy tooled-leather belt, smiling behind his braided beard.

Boromir nodded. "We should find the others and encourage their participation." The Man turned his back on the wonders of such a room, promising himself that he would peruse it to his heart's content later on. Without thought he took pip's hand and guided him to the door, the Hobbit happily accompanying him, not minding the way Boromir seemed to have taken up the role of protector to him.

There would be many months on the arduous journey ahead in which Pippin could convince Boromir that he was twenty-eight years and nearly at his coming-of-age. For now, he would let the Human see to him; Men seemed to prefer being caregivers or protectors when put near Hobbits, for some odd reason. Pip figured that it might be because they were so much larger than Hobbits.

With amusement, Gandalf followed the others out, noticing the odd look Merry tossed his cousin's way. //Oh, ho. Meriadoc seemed to feel his cousin might be growing up.// As he didn't speak that out loud, he would not be required to explain just how Pippin's walking with Boromir was growing up more than his walking with Merry. If he'd been asked, however, he might have replied that it dealt with Pippin expanding his world to include others, rather than merely his childhood friends. He might have said something of the sort.

They trailed down the hall to find a room in which Legolas and Aragorn softly spoke in Elvish. It wasn't certain, but the conversation sounded very private. The Elvish tongue leant it an intimate air, in fact. The footfall of the Dwarf alerted the golden-haired Elf, however, and words ceased instantly. Legolas glanced over, a slight frown marring his beautiful features.

"We're gathering a group to play Sing Out and wanted you to join." Merry took the lead this time, calling out from behind Gimli.

Aragorn turned fully, the expression on his face unreadable. His companion tilted his head just a bit and asked, "What game is that? You've mentioned it before, but I've never seen it played."

With a laugh, Pip nodded. "It's a fun game with loads of running about and..."

"Peregrin, we should await everyone before explaining the rules," Gandalf chided gently. He looked to the pair and smiled. "Will you join us, Legolas, Aragorn?"

The Elf let his eyes roam over those present. Meeting Gimli's almost hostile glare, he decided quickly. "I will play." He threw a challenging glance back at the Dwarf, receiving an eye roll in return.

Clapping, letting go of Boromir's hand to do so, Pippin almost hopped in his enthusiasm, but managed to restrain himself. "Oh, that's good. Strider? Will you join us? You'd like it. It makes you use your mind."

"An active game which challenges the mind?" The ranger's low, rasping voice held surprise. "Very well." He looked at Boromir then back at the Hobbit. "Will Frodo and Sam join us as well?" He preferred to keep Frodo in sight if the other Man was around, though he would not reveal just why that was.

"Oh, I'll join." Frodo's soft voice broke into the conversation, amused, almost excited. The others turned to see the delicate, pale Hobbit approaching followed ever faithfully by the sturdier Sam Gamgee, his servant. "I enjoy Sing Out. Sam, will you play?" It wasn't an order; it was a request.

Sam nodded and frowned softly. "Of course, Mister Frodo." Unlike the previous game he'd been drug into, Sam actually enjoyed Sing Out and had hoped to play as soon as he'd heard Pip's voice down the hall. Since his master would play, it made it far easier for Sam to leap at the opportunity without feeling guilty for abandoning his friend and employer. "What'll be the call this time?"

Boromir frowned. "The call?" He was beginning to think the game might be a bit convoluted. Already the title didn't relay running about, challenging one's mind. What had the Hobbits up their sleeves now?

A laugh rang out and Bilbo approached at his slow, aged shuffle. "Call? You must be discussing Sing Out, a particularly favorite game in the Shire. I'd play if I could keep up with the running about. Has this scamp convinced you to have a go then?" Bilbo flitted a hand in Pip's direction.

When agreement reached his ears, Bilbo laughed, rubbing his hands together rapidly. "Oh, good. I'll enjoy watching it, though it's not as amusing to watch as Dodge It. The fun lies in the playing. The rules are simple; has anyone told them, yet?" The aged Hobbit looked around, bright hazel eyes merry, full of mischief, which his body could no longer keep up with. At one hundred twenty-eight years, who but an Elf could keep up any more?

A shake of his head sent Merry's curls dancing about in the light breeze across the hallway. "Not yet, Bilbo. Would you like?"

"Yes, yes... if I may?" Bilbo looked around at the friendly faces and smiled wider as he saw approval. He started walking outside, leading the group towards the wide courtyard. He wasn't even paying attention as Boromir once more took Pip's hand, though he might have thought it amusing to see the irrepressible young Hobbit treated as one of far less years than he had.

As the group made their way outside into the still beautiful morning, he began reciting the instructions to this odd game. "Well, you start with one person trying to tag all the other people. If he tags someone, that person has to sit out the game until someone new is the tagger. A new tagger happens when the last person in the group is tug out." He glanced over his shoulder, seeing that they were still following his rules.

The Dwarf spoke, guttural voice ringing out in the clear air. "Sounds like simple One Out, a game I used to play back home." He sounded pleased, as he used to like the game.

Bilbo nodded. "Yes, I've heard of that game from Fili. It's much like the Elven game of Home Free or the Man game of Tag." The understanding on the faces of the Fellowship encouraged Bilbo to continue. "Anyhow, in this version of the game, you have a bit of a twist. When the tagger tries to get you, you have the option of sitting down, claiming yourself safe from tagging for a count of five."

Surprise crossed Boromir's face. This game sounded far too easy. He'd thought the first game had been simple, but this one? Where was the challenge in sitting down before someone could reach you?

He didn't need to ask the question. Pippin interrupted happily. "But there's a limit to sitting down. If you're down for more than the count of five, you're out. And in order to sit down, you have to name something. It can't be the same as what anyone else has named for the entire round." He smiled up at Boromir. "That's what the call is. It can be birds or plants or rivers or cousins or whatever. Only we have to agree what it is before we play so there aren't any fights."

The ranger chuckled very softly. "I see how it could be a challenge to the mind."

Gimli nodded. "And if you've no cousins, as I've noted that Men have few children, you would have no time for sitting."

"Hobbits have dozens of cousins." Merry sounded smug.

"Hmm... then we shall claim cousins not permitted for a call." Gandalf trained a stern eye on the Brandybuck; Merry frowned and nodded reluctantly. "We will," the Wizard continued, "need an appropriate call, however. So, what will we choose?"

Looking thoughtful, Frodo slowly said, "If we choose plants, Sam and Aragorn will have the advantage right out. If we choose rivers and such, the travelers will have a benefit. What can be named that will put us all on reasonable footing?"

For some reason, everyone looked towards Pippin, though one would hardly think that he could come up with a solution. He surprised them all, though, when he piped up, "Numbers. We can call out numbers under one hundred and have Bilbo mark them down so no repeats happen. Or colors. Colors are good. No advantage there." He let go of Boromir's hand and started pointing out places he called boundaries of the courtyard, meaning no one could cross that area without being out for the round.

The elderly Hobbit nodded. "Colors it is. Much more of a challenge than numbers. Now to choose whom is the tagger. Come here, Peregrin. We're to select a tagger." Pip nodded and hurried over, bouncing on his feet, eager to begin. Bilbo smiled and looked at the motley crew. "Come form a circle round me. Stick out your hands."

Everyone did as told, confusion on most faces, though Frodo merely looked amused. Bilbo started tapping hands lightly, calling out a little singsong rhyme. After mere seconds, Pippin was left with a hand in the center and everyone else had their hands by their sides. Pip shrugged. "I'm tagger. Everyone run."

He suddenly lurched out at Legolas, who was less confused than one would think. The nimble blond threw himself to the ground calling out "Green." Pip frowned and took off after another member as Bilbo counted down Legolas' safe time. As the Elf stood, the game was going full swing, with everyone having caught on to the sitting rule.

As the little Hobbit attempted to catch person after person, he was at first thwarted. Things soon took a change, though. Gimli called "Silver" promptly sitting, but was called out when he forgot to rise at the count of five. He was stunned to have been not only the first out but out within a minute of beginning. He scowled fiercely as the laughing Elf passed by.

Aragorn managed to come up with Brown as he sat, getting up only on count of three as Pippin had moved off. Since that was a legal move, no one was required to use their entire count, he waited, poised on the balls of his feet, for Pippin to come back his way.

Boromir and Frodo called "White" at the same time, causing Pippin to attempt to stop running. The Hobbit tripped, instead, but merely glanced over at Bilbo from the ground, waiting for the official decision as to who got the call. Bilbo shook his head. "White's off limits. Neither gets it. Choose something else." He refused to be accused of favoritism as he had been after that Dodge It game.

The Man scowled and called out "Yellow," causing Merry, mouth open, to stumble and frown. "That was mine! Yellow's always mine! Everyone knows I get yellow!" He sat down, however, sulking "Blue" when Pip tried to take advantage and tag him.

For his part, Frodo shrugged off the loss of his color choice and continued running instead. Pip was after other people and he had time to think. Unfortunately, he got lost in a horrifying vision of orange flames and was tug out in his fearful confusion. Turning his head, eyes pretty much blind in his daze, he cowered.

Sam immediately ran over, pushing Pippin out of the way. "Mister Frodo? What's he done to you sir? Here, sit down." He threw a glare at Pip, who backed off looking worried and confused.

"I didn't do anything to him, Sam. I only tug him." He glanced over at the others trying to relay his innocence in Frodo's trouble. "I didn't even tag him hard. Just a touch, like this," and he reached for Sam's arm.

The gardener pulled away, scowling. He turned back to Frodo. "Mister Frodo? Are you feeling all right? Is it your shoulder, sir?" He petted Frodo's curls in a worried, comforting manner.

Frodo flushed and shook his head. "I'm fine, Sam, really. Do stop fussing, please. I was lost in thought is all, a bad thing when trying to play a game but nothing serious. Pip startled me is all. Sam, lay off." He sounded frustrated at the end, embarrassed by the fawning, as he really was all right.

His servant nodded, backing off, feeling just a bit hurt at the reprimand. He shoved his hands in his pockets, watching his master intently just the same. "Well, you're out then, sir, as losing thought's no excuse for avoiding an out." He opened his mouth to say something more but cut off when Frodo stood and moved uncomplainingly to sit by Bilbo and Gimli.

Gandalf nodded, staring at Frodo a bit longer. He then turned to the others. "Sam, get ready to run or Pip will have you out, as well. Let the game begin again." He had not had to run or call out yet, as Pip still hadn't gotten to his part of the field. The Wizard was amused when a look of shock crossed Sam's face, the chubby Hobbit snatching his hands from his pockets and trying to run.

Pip was after him in a flash and tagged him. A friendly "Come on, Sam, sit by me," rang out and the servant slouched off the field to slump next to his friend. The Took male grinned and turned to reach for Merry.

"Purple!" Merry hurled himself at the ground.

A shout of laughter rang out as Pip reached for Boromir and was thwarted by the Man tripping. At least the Human was able to convert his tumble into a safety by calling out "Red." Merry continued laughing, however, springing up then sitting right back down again with Black as his color. The tagger was getting quite frustrated with his older cousin.

Spinning, looking for a new victim, the Hobbit's eyes fell on Gandalf, who was unwisely turned towards Aragorn, answering some comment. Grinning hugely, knowing no one would warn the old Wizard, Pippin stealthily approached. His movement was noticed, however, as Aragorn saw him and called out "Azure". Gandalf whirled, called "Grey", and sank to the ground, then turned and frowning at Aragorn. "Azure? What an unusual choice..."

Mildly annoyed, Pip whirled suddenly and managed to touch Merry's leg as the Hobbit tried to hurl himself to the ground with a call of "Orange". Bilbo chuckled happily. "Sorry, Meriadoc. He got you before you said it. You're out."

By then the loud game had attracted the attention of many Elves. They formed a loose border around the playing field, trying to determine the rules of the game without asking. It posed an intriguing question so they watched in contentment. Lord Elrond strode over just as Frodo clapped enthusiastically. Legolas had managed to avoid Pippin by a hair, calling "Pink" as he sat down, chuckling.

Boromir had a color to mind and was eager to use it, finding this a fun game, if simple. He edged closer to the Hobbit, grinning, dancing away a bit if Pip looked, just to tempt the smaller being. Finally it paid off and Boromir laughingly ran a bit ahead of Pippin. Then, he stopped laughing and ran a bit harder. He'd forgot his color! Coming to the edge of the field, he skidded over the line, realizing he'd just made himself out. With a groan, he turned to see a gloating Pippin standing still inside the border, panting but triumphant. "Thanks, Boromir." He waved a hand, cheekily grinning, and trotted back to try to get the others out. The Man sat where he was with a "humph."

It was now a rather odd game as the field size hadn't changed but the number of players was less. Gandalf, Aragorn, and Legolas were more easily able to avoid Pip as the smaller Hobbit ran back and forth trying to tag someone. Colors were called out and noted and things looked hopeless for the little Hobbit. However, he was smiling widely, edging ever closer to the heavily panting Gandalf and the bemused looking Aragorn. Normally Gandalf just wasn't up to such an intense chase for long.

He lunged. Aragorn hit the ground with a loud "Green". Gandalf couldn't even think of a color, embarrassingly enough, and was tug out by one of Pip's hands as the little male simultaneously tug Aragorn. The large Man looked up, stunned. "Already been said, Strider. Sorry. You weren't safe when you sat this time." He skipped off as Gandalf assisted his companion off the ground and led him to the sidelines.

Now it was between Pippin and Legolas. Excitement ran high, especially among the Elves. They had finally caught onto the rules and knew it was a matter of Pip's speed and maneuverability versus Legolas' endurance and intelligence. This was going to be a quick end in many opinions. They felt the little Hobbit would see the odds and resign himself to never catching the Elf.

Bilbo leaned forward. "Oh, the last rule. I forgot, I forgot. If he cannot catch the last person within a certain allotted time, the last person wins, instead. What time limit shall we set? Five minutes?" Agreement met that, though Legolas shrugged indifferently. He felt he could have lasted quite a bit longer.

The time limit came closer as the pair continued to run around the field, looking like some bizarre mating ritual: Hobbit panting and chasing Elf. Finally, as Bilbo and Merry started loudly counting down the last seconds, Pippin grinned wider. He'd managed to get Legolas in a corner. It required only a tag or a call to sway this game. The color choices had gone through a good many shades of each color, and to think of a new one on the spot would be a challenge. To win, however, Legolas needed just one color to call out... just one.

Pip shouted in triumphant and lunged towards the Elf. Legolas ducked, curling up and screaming "Chartreuse" as he hit the ground. Pippin stumbled over the Elf, hitting the ground and losing his wind momentarily. Cheers erupted as the time finished and Legolas became the official winner.

Shaking his head, Pippin panted, "Maybe it's a good idea to wait a bit before the next round. I'm hungry." He was rolled over and helped up by Merry, laughing good-naturedly. Frodo surprisingly agreed, however, and everyone started leaving the field, congratulating Legolas as they passed. When Gimli got to the Elf, however, he merely grunted and frowned. With a shake of his head he continued to walk, growling out, "Chartreuse? What kind of color choice is that?"

Legolas shrugged. "Apparently a winning one."