Disclaimer: I don’t own them, and I’ll put them back when I’m done.
Author’s Note: Warning: this is very silly, and most likely very AU. I had lots of fun with it, though.
Starter Sentence: “____ ____! You’d better run faster than that!”

When Pigs Do Fly
By Elendiari

“Merry! Pippin! You’d better run faster than that!”

“You know, if he weren’t serious I’d think he found this highly entertaining!” Pippin gasped, clutching his aching side. “Come on, Merry!”

Merry sounded worse off than Pippin felt. “I can’t! Just go, Pip!”

There was a sudden whistle, loud and piercing, and their attackers stopped pursuing them. The hobbits collapsed in the grass, ...breathing hard, as Radagast the Brown, formerly of Rhosgobel by Mirkwood, herded his mad flock of geese back into their pen. Legolas came up to them, a huge grin plastered to his face. Behind him came Faramir, looking both apologetic and gleeful.

“Welcome to Ithilien!” the latter pronounced as Legolas pulled them to their feet. “I hope that you’ll find your stay enjoyable.”

“I’m sure we will,” Merry replied, bowing slightly. He had his breath back already.

Pippin was not so recovered, nor so forgiving. “Faramir, that was some welcoming party. Was that what Aragorn warned us about?”

Legolas gave him a curious, too innocent look. “Whatever do you mean, Pippin? Those are Radagast’s talking geese.”

“Talking geese?!” the hobbits cried in unison, twin looks of horror on their faces.

Faramir and Legolas exchanged a glance filled with barely contained glee. Before they could reply, however, an annoyed Eowyn arrived on the scene. The gleeful looks vanished as she glowered at them. Seeing that the males were cowed by her steely grey eyes, Eowyn turned to the hobbits and smiled.

“Welcome, my friends. Please, don’t let these two idiots scare you. They have discovered that they have more in common than they had originally thought. Come on to the house.”

Merry and Pippin glanced at each other nervously, and followed her. Eowyn led them up the back lawn away from the stables and animal pens, towards the large and airy house that Faramir had had built in Emyn Arnen. Their luggage had been sent ahead of them, and they had soon disappeared inside behind Eowyn.

Outside, still standing under the bright southern sunshine, Faramir shook his head.

“We are bad, bad people for enjoying that,” he said.

“Think of it as revenge,” Legolas replied easily. “Remember the frogs. Whenever you feel remotely guilty about this…remember the frogs.”

Faramir shuddered. That was not a problem.

*****

Eowyn showed Merry and Pippin to their rooms, than left them to unpack. Each hobbit had his own room, a nice, bright affair not unlike a hobbit for except for the large rectangular windows. Merry unpacked his packs, leaving the door partially open. He rather liked his room. The walls were a fresh cream-gold color, the floor made of red wood. The blanket on the bed was light green, and there were several brightly woven tapestries on the walls. Merry put his belongings in the wardrobe and turned to look at the bed with a bright eye. He had just enough time before lunch for a nap, he decided, and settled himself on top of it. Sighing with contentment, his earlier scare all but forgotten Merry let himself fall asleep.

*****

Eowyn was sitting on the sofa under one of the windows in the library, reading and basking in the sunshine, when a ghastly shriek ripped through the house. She put her head on the book and groaned loudly. She’d known it would happen sooner or later. She wondered which hobbit it was.

Getting up, Eowyn hurried down the corridor, turning corners until she got to the guestrooms. As she’d thought, Merry’s door was wide open, and Pippin’s was shut. She sighed and stepped into the room.
The sight that met her eyes would have been funny, had not Merry been so obviously terrified. The hobbit lay flat on his back, frozen, a huge spotted cat standing over him, its massive paws on Merry’s chest. Eowyn sighed, than took a deep breath.

“Freda!” she bawled. “Get off of him right now!”

The leopard turned and gave her a baleful look. Eowyn glowered at it until Freda jumped down off the bed and padded out the door. Merry sat up slowly, looking as though his heart were about to stop.

“What…what was that?” he croaked.

Eowyn rolled her eyes. “Freda. Our “cat”. She’s a leopard, really; Legolas bought her off of some traders from Harad when she was just a kitten. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about her, but we’re so used to her, and she’s completely harmless. Theodwyn loves her.”

Merry stared at her. “A leopard?! What was Legolas thinking?”

Eowyn shrugged. “I have no idea. For an elf, he can be really strange at times. His sense of humor is utterly bizarre.”

“Oh,” Merry replied. “Yes, it is.”

Eowyn laughed and led him from the room, knocking on Pippin’s door to wake him for lunch. The other hobbit had slept right through Merry’s little adventure, and was highly amused by it.

“A leopard? Really? I want to see that,” Pippin chuckled. “And who is Theodwyn?”

His question was answered by a tiny little creature, no more than four years old, flying down the hallway and diving for Eowyn.

“Mum, Mum, Mumma! There are a bunch of Elves here from Loth…Loth…that elf place, and they have a big flying animal!” the golden haired child cried.

“A big flying animal?” Eowyn repeated, her voice bordering on deadly. Merry and Pippin glanced at each other.

“It’s pretty!” Theodwyn replied, tugging on her hand. “Come see! Oh! Teddy bears!” she added, seeing Merry and Pippin. “Did you come with Uncle Raddy?”

“Er, no,” Pippin replied. “We came from the Shire. We’re not bears. We’re hobbits.”

“They’re our guests, Theo,” Eowyn added. “The ones I was telling you about, remember?”

Theodwyn seemed to suddenly remember her manners, for she stopped dragging on Eowyn’s hand and dropped them a polite curtsy. “Hullo! Welcome to Emyn Arnen. Do you like to play dress up?”

*****

“This is a griffin,” Radagast announced to the gathered crowd. “My own creation. It has the body of a lion and the head and wings of an eagle. What do you think of it?”

Merry looked from the magnificent beast to the people around him. Pippin’s eyes were wide, Legolas and Theodwyn both looked thrilled, Faramir looked bemused. He thought that Eowyn looked torn between delight and consternation.

“What does it eat?” the lady of Emyn Arnen asked, ever practical.

“It dines upon fish, my lady,” Lord Celeborn, newly arrived from Lothlorien, replied. “You have nothing to fear from it.”

“Will it need a pen of its own, Radagast?” Legolas asked. “And it can stay with my people if you like, Faramir.”

Radagast stroked the griffin’s flanks. “It just needs a wide space to run around it. I’m sure that Liriel would love to stay with the Elves.”

“Alright,” Faramir agreed. “Well, that’s settled then. Shall we have lunch?”

*****

The rest of the day passed without any more incidents. Radagast took them all for rides on the griffin, a thrilling experience for all. After dinner and an evening of playing parlor games with Faramir, Eowyn, and their daughter, Merry and Pippin retired to their room. The elves of Lothlorien were also spending the night in the Steward’s house, taking advantage of soft beds and fine wine. The leopard, Freda, seemed to have taken a fancy to Merry, and spent the night sleeping on his bed.

The next morning, however, brought more surprises. Everyone was at breakfast in the sunny breakfast room, feasting on syrupy hotcakes and orange juice, when there was a loud commotion outside. Merry was making little Theodwyn giggle by blowing bubbles in his juice, and Pippin was telling some of the Lorien elves, whom they had met when they were in that fair country five years before, the tale of the Battle of Bywater. Eowyn was chatting with Radagast when the commotion went from quiet and outside to loud and heading for the open patio door.

“Oh bother,” said Radagast, jumping up. “I forgot to warn you that the pigs love hotcakes!”

“Pigs?” Merry said.

“Oh bother,” sighed Eowyn and sprang for a rope lever that hung against one wall. “Merry, would you, Pippin and Theo please climb onto the table? Thank you.”

The hobbits, feeling utterly bewildered, sprang onto the table, Merry hauling Theodwyn with him. Eowyn gave the rope a sharp tug, and the whole table rose straight up in the air. Pippin laughed aloud and looked over the edge; below them, everyone sat looking bewildered, still holding their eating utensils or glasses of juice. Faramir barely looked up from the letter he was reading, and Eowyn looked resigned.

There was a clatter of trotters on the flagstone patio, then six or so pigs burst into the breakfast room. They were interesting pigs, small and pink, with little white-feathered wings rising out of their backs. After all of the other strange creatures they had seen thus far in Emyn Arnen, Merry wondered why he was surprised.

“I’m sorry! I promise they’re not dangerous! I keep telling Radagast to build them a better pen, as they just fly out of their current one!” wailed Eowyn, and Faramir jumped up to aid her in shooing the flying animals out of the room.

The effect upon the Elves was peculiar. Lord Celeborn sat pointing incredulously at the flying pigs, a look of stark amazement on his face. The other Elves, about five in number, were laughing with joy, slapping each other’s backs and hugging. After a moment, they swung Celeborn into their dancing circle.

Faramir, Eowyn, Merry and Pippin stared at them, open mouthed. Elves just did not act like that, Legolas excluded. Finally, the rejoicing Elves managed to get a hold of themselves, and turned to the staring mortals.

“Forgive me, my lords and lady,” Celeborn gasped. “We have just witnessed a prophecy fulfilled!

Centuries ago, my lady Galadriel was bemoaning the absence of our son, Amroth*, and stated that he surely must return to us. I, being very bitter about his disappearance, replied, “My lady, that day will surely come when pigs do fly.” And behold! Pigs fly!”

“Well, Radagast has been breeding them with wings for about two years now,” Faramir said.

“That sounds like a gaffer’s saying for an impossible occurrence,” Pippin stated, snatching his hotcakes back from Theodwyn, who had partially devoured them.

Celeborn shook his head. “Nay, it was spoken as a prophecy. Excuse me, please, I must go send messengers to all of the Elven realms.”

He rushed from the room, followed by the others, leaving the mortals feeling slightly stunned.
“Wow,” Merry said at last. “We were witness to the fulfillment of an Elvish prophecy.”

Eowyn let the table down again, shaking her head. “Unbelievable. I suppose that the pigs deserve some hotcakes. I’ll go tell the cooks to make more.”

They finished breakfast in much merriment, shooing the pigs out onto the porch to eat.

“You know,” Pippin remarked. “This must be the strangest court I’ve ever seen.”

Faramir laughed at that. “You have no idea.”

*****

Two weeks later, a letter arrived at Emyn Arnen from Dol Amroth. It was from the Lord Celeborn, who had rushed off a week before upon receiving a similar letter. It seemed that a worn Elven ship had arrived that the port, returning from travels far in the South. On it came the Lord Amroth son of Celeborn and several elves, all of whom had been given up for lost long ago. A very joyful reunion had followed, and the Elves wished to return to Ithilien for a great celebration.

“Eowyn, what do you say to having a big Elvish ball here?” Faramir asked her when he had finished reading the letter to them all.

Eowyn giggled, eyes dancing. “We will have an Elvish ball here, Faramir, when pigs do fly.”

Outside, the herd of flying pigs and Radagast’s griffin swooped by the open window, made curious by the sound of uproarious laughter from within.

The End

*In one of the versions of the Galadriel story, Amroth is the son of Celeborn and Galadriel who went south in search of Nimrodel and was never seen again. I just enlarged upon that version of the tale. What can I say, it was fun.