fell_beast2's challenge

[bohemian-sheep.livejournal.com]

Wrote this one in a bit of a rush, so I apologise for any mistakes. Enjoy!


“You can only have one, Peregrin. One or the other.”
One or the other?!
“Quickly now, pick one and be off.”
Just one?
“Uh, I’ll have one later instead.”
Eglantine sighed and put the tin back in the cupboard, having only got it out seconds before at her son’s asking.

Which one?
Pippin frowned. This needed some serious thought, it being a serious matter after all. He should probably pace a bit and tap his chin now and then, since that was what grown ups did when they were thinking. He wasn’t allowed to smoke a pipe though, which was what his dad did.
Which one?
The ones with strawberry jam sandwiched in them were his favourite, but they were too small to split in half properly.
The ones with white icing on the top were bigger, but Pippin wasn’t particularly fond of those ones. Icing should be saved for cakes, not biscuits.
He could take a jammy one and split the sandwich, but when he tried that last time, one side had all the jam and the other was just plain biscuit. No, that wouldn’t be fair.
He could try to scrape the icing off one of the white ones. But what if Merry liked them better with icing? And how would they split it equally? What if they broke it and one side was bigger than the other? Would Pippin get the smaller half since he was she smaller hobbit?
No, Merry would more than likely give Pippin the bigger half. He was nice like that. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind having the plain half of the jammy one…
But Pippin always got to pick, whatever it was, wherever they were. He picked the games, the stories, the treats. It was time Merry got to pick something. But hopefully he would pick the jammy one.

Pippin found Merry in the living room, leaning his elbow on the writing desk while he half-heartedly scribbled his sums. He might be on a holiday, but he still had his studies to attend to, which was very unfair indeed, in Pippin’s opinion. Merry didn’t think so. Well, he didn’t complain about it. But he hadn’t been happy when Pippin interrupted him the other day. Better to leave him to it.

Pippin wandered back into the kitchen, where his father was just putting the lid back on the biscuit tin.
“Hallo, my lad. If you want one of these biscuits you’d better have one soon. There’s only two left now.” He pulled the lid off again with a ‘pang’ and held it so Pippin could see and pick one. Just his luck that there was one of each left. At least if there were two the same he wouldn’t have to think so hard.
“Not right now, Dad.”
“Suit yourself,” Paladin said around his own biscuit.

He had to think quickly if he was to get a biscuit at all. But which one would Merry choose? Merry deserved his favourite, what with all the work he was doing. While he was on holiday, no less.
Well, Merry didn’t like having sticky hands, which you definitely got with a jammy biscuit. But he liked jam. And biscuits. It was possible he liked them together.
But he quite liked icing too. Pippin had seen him scooping some off cakes when he thought no one was looking. And Auntie Da had told him about when Merry used to lick the icing off biscuits when he was little.
Perhaps Merry had finished now. Then he could decide for himself.

By the time Pippin had located Merry he was very distressed. First of all, Merry hadn’t been in the living room when he went back, then he wasn’t in the bedroom he’d been given, nor the back garden, or the kitchen. And while he was in the kitchen, his mother told him to have the last biscuit. The last biscuit, which meant that there was only one left, and it might be one Merry didn’t like. It was the jammy one. Pippin’s favourite, but not Merry’s. Merry’s favourites were custard creams. And when he asked his mum if they had custard creams she said the ones in the tin were the only ones until she made more. Which was very bad indeed, that they didn’t have any biscuits left at all now. And now the jam was touching his fingers and being all sticky and it might drip on Merry and then he wouldn’t be happy because he didn’t like having sticky fing-
“Are you going to eat that or wait for the jam to leak out entirely?” Merry was there suddenly and smiling down at his sticky little cousin, who wasn’t smiling back, for a change. “What’s the matter, Pip?”
“Mum said I could only have one biscuit and there weren’t any custard creams there and I had to choose between the jammy ones and the ones with icing on. And when I went to ask you which one you wanted you were busy and then I couldn’t find you and then there was only the jammy one left. I’m sorry I couldn’t get the icing one for you, but I thought it would still be there and I had to look for you and everything.” Pippin held out the deteriorating biscuit. “Do you like jammy biscuits?”
Merry looked at the crumbling mess that had obviously been held in Pippin’s hand for a good ten minutes. Then he looked at the miserable face.
“Why don’t you have it, Pip? I’m still quite full up from luncheon. And you like jammy biscuits more than I do.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m very sure. Now eat that and wash your hands before your Mum sees them.”
Merry was nice like that. Always giving Pippin the bigger half. Or in this case, the whole.

Several years passed before Merry told Pippin it was him who ate the second-to-last biscuit.