I enjoyed taking part in this Challenge very much.  It was fun trying to come up with a way to work the song verses into a story that was still LOTRs- related.  I would like to thank everyone that read this and encouraged me when it was posted over on the 12days site.  There are some wonderful fan fiction based stories by lots of different authors who participated in the challenge posted to the site.  I would also like to thank magickalmolly who ran the site and the challenge.  Without her, these little stories would not exist.

As always, a big thank you goes to J.R.R. Tolkien because all of these characters are his and I am only borrowing them.  The last of these stories is movie-based and so a thank you to Peter Jackson as well.

Thanks for reading this nonsense!

G.W.     01/12/2005

Title:  “Chain of Fools”

Fandom:  “Lord of the Rings”
Characters:  Merry and Pippin
Rating:  PG-13 for language
Brief Summary:  Pippin’s practical joke goes a bit wrong leaving him and Merry to suffer the outcome.  This one is all dialogue.

“How long has it been up there now, Merry?”

“About two hours, give or take.  Does that matter?”

“I just thought it might give us an idea of about when it plans to come down again.”

“I don’t think it plans on coming down any time soon, Pippin.”

“It has to, Merry.  I mean if it doesn’t then what will we do?”

“I suppose that we will be forced to wait here until someone comes along and rescues us.”

“Well, I hope that someone isn’t Frodo because he is going to tease us something awful, Merry.”

“Yes, Pippin, he will, but I would much rather he found us than others I could name.  At least Frodo will get us out of this mess.”

“I didn’t think that it could fly.  I mean, I know that Partridges do fly, but I thought it was injured because of the way that it just walked over to the key so calmly.”

“Well, it would seem that you were wrong, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose so.  It flew up into that tree quite well, didn’t it?”

“Yes, right after it swallowed the key.  It was as if the evil thing knew what it was doing!”

“Ouch, Merry don’t pull so hard.  That hurts.”

“You are very lucky that I don’t try to pull you between these two trees and knock some sense into you, Peregrin Took!  Of all the ridiculous things to have done, this is one of the worst!  When I get out of this, you had best start running as fast as you can, because I will be chasing you with the intention of nearly killing you.”

“It was supposed to be a joke, Merry.  When I did it, I had the key.  I was only going to chain us together for a minute or two and then I was going to unlock us, only I dropped the key.”

“I remember that part in detail.  You had the cuff snapped on your own wrist and then you reached between these two trees, grabbed my wrist, and snapped the other cuff on my wrist.  Then you laughed.  Tell me, Pippin, is it as funny now as it was two hours ago?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“I didn’t think it would be.  No, after spending the last two hours chained to you, I am not the least bit amused either.  Why did you decided to run the chain between this pair of trees?  If you hadn’t done that then we could have simply walked away from here, found an axe or a saw, and gotten ourselves free.  Tell me again why you chose to do this?”

“Well, these trees are so close together, that I knew that you couldn’t get to me if I were on one side and you on the other.  I planned to tease you a bit and then unlock myself and run.  I figured the trees would give me a head start is all.”

“So, do you feel as if you will be far enough ahead of me once we’re rescued?”

“No.”

“Smart of you to know that.  There is no length that I would not go to in order to catch you and repay you for this one, dear little cousin.”

“Merry!  Look!  The partridge is moving about in the tree!  Do you suppose it might fly down and land near us?”

“If it does, how do you suggest that we get the key?  It swallowed it, remember?”

“Well, it will have to, well, you know, at some point.  I could try to grab it and hold it still until the key comes out.”

“Sadly, that is the best plan that you’ve had all day, Pippin.”

“Well, if I hadn’t dropped the key, then the bird wouldn’t have eaten it and everything would be fine now.  We’d both be laughing about this.  I was trying to unlock us when you jerked my arm and I dropped the key.  Then the bird strutted over here and ate the key!  In a way, Merry, this is entirely your fault, you know.”

“I was thinking that if we were rescued soon, I might forgive you, but now that you’ve come up with that bit of logic, I seriously doubt that anyone can keep me from killing you.  In fact, if anyone hears the entire story, I am sure that they will consider me justified.  They may even help me.”

“Look, Merry!  It’s moving again.  No, it was just preening a bit.  I thought it meant to fly.  I guess maybe as long as it stays up there, we can hope that the key will fall down within reach eventually, when it, well, whenever it has to, you know.”

“If there is any justice in all of this, it will shit on your head!”

The End

G.W. 12/26/2004

Two Turtle Doves #2

Title:  "Flights of Fancy"
Fandom:  "Lord of the Rings'
Characters:  Bilbo Baggins, Frodo Baggins, and a seven-year-old Pippin Took
Rating:  very G
Brief Summary:  Pippin tries his hand at some rather unusual artwork.

                                       "Flights of Fancy"

“Frodo, what is Pippin doing?”  Bilbo whispered, leaning over so as not to be over-heard.                                           

“I don’t know, exactly,” Frodo admitted, following Bilbo’s gaze and looking over at his little cousin who sitting in the dirt and talking to himself.  “I am sure that it’s harmless enough.”

“I suppose so,” Bilbo agreed.  “Still, you might want to go over and have a closer look just to be sure.  I did give the lad paint, you know.”

“I wondered about that at the time,” Frodo said, standing up and moving away from the shade of Bag End to go over and see what Pippin was up to.  Frodo had not thought it a very good idea for Bilbo to give Pippin the paint, but Bilbo had merely smiled and assured him that it would be fine seeing as how Pippin would be outside.

“Hold still, now, or you’ll spoil it,” Pippin was saying to no one that Frodo could see as he approached from behind the child.  The seven-year-old didn’t notice him and continued.  “The other one was still, but you are moving about too much.  You’re spoiling the wings.”  Pippin sounded quite out of patience.  The child had some crumbled and discarded parchment tossed about him on the grass and was intent on something in his hands at the moment.

“What’s the matter, Pippin?” Frodo asked, as he leaned forward and looked over the child’s shoulder.

“This one won’t hold still, Frodo,” Pippin said, holding up his captive for his older cousin to see.  “He keeps moving and it’s messing up my painting.”

“Pippin, you aren’t supposed to be painting on live creatures,” Frodo frowned, taking the wiggling form from his cousin and staring at it curiously.  “What in all of wonder are you trying to paint on here?” 

“I was trying to paint on it just like this other one, here,” Pippin said, pointing to his earlier victim and smiling.  “See how much better this one turned out?”

Frodo looked at the other and tried hard not to laugh.  “Pippin, why are you painting wings on these little turtles?”

“To help them move faster,” Pippin said, brightly, looking up at Frodo with splashes of white paint streaking his cheeks and decorating his curls.  “They’re kinda slow and the other animals always pass them up and so I thought if they had wings, then they could go faster.  My sister, Pearl has a couple of doves that she feeds. They come to our smial every day and eat the seeds that she puts out and they have awful pretty white wings and so I thought that I would give these turtles, dove wings!”

Frodo bit his lower lip to keep back the laughter and nodded as he handed the wiggling turtle back to Pippin.   

“That one there is moving pretty good anyway, but I still thought it might help him some,” Pippin reasoned.  “Besides, it makes them pretty.”

Frodo backed away quickly and retreated to the safety of Bag End’s shade where Bilbo was waiting for him.  “Well, is there anything amiss?” Bilbo asked, worriedly.

“No, but some of your turtles may be a bit more decorative than they normally are,” Frodo snickered. 

“The lad is painting the turtles?”  Bilbo asked, scratching his head.

“Seems Pippin is making a couple of your turtles into doves,” Frodo said.  Bilbo looked a bit confused, but Frodo was unable to say more at that moment because he could now imagine two small, green, winged turtles flying about the garden and frightening the life out of Gaffer Gamgee and he found himself over-come with laughter.

The end

G.W.     12/27/2004

Three French Hens #3

Title:  "Good for What Ales You"
Fandom:  Lord of the Rings
Characters:  Frodo, Merry, and Pippin
Rating:  PG-13  (suggestive, non-slash)
Brief Summary:  After a night of drinking, all Merry wants is a bit of peace and quiet, but Pippin and Frodo have questions.

“Aw, my head hurts,” Merry moaned as he rolled over in the bed and pulled the blankets over his head.  “What did I drink last night?”

“It might be easier for me to tell you what you didn’t drink,” Pippin said, leaning back in the chair beside of his older cousin’s bed and propping his feet on the bed.

“Not so loud, Pippin,” Merry moaned.  “My head feels like there are tiny hammers inside of my skull and all of them are trying to pound their way out.  Go away, will you?”

“Not until you tell me about those lasses that you were dreaming about,” Pippin said.  “If I’m not allowed to get drunk with you, then you can at least tell me what you were dreaming.  You talked all night long, well, once you finished vomiting, you talked.  I much preferred the talking.”

“I would prefer that you stop talking,” Merry mumbled into his pillow.

“Is he awake yet?” Frodo asked as he stuck his head into the room.

“Mostly,” Pippin smiled.  “Enough to tell me that I’m talking too much.”

“Yes, well, you always do,” Frodo said, putting his hand on his own aching head.  “I’m making tea with uncle Saradoc’s head-ache remedy in it, Merry.  I’ll bring you some if I am able.”  Having said that, Frodo staggered toward the kitchen.

“Go and help him, Pip,” Merry suggested, softly.

“I don’t know anything about making a hang-over cure,” Pippin chirped.  “You and Frodo won’t let me get a hang-over, remember?”

“You’re too young to drink,” Merry said, into his pillow.  “Now, go away.”

“I will if you’ll tell me about the lasses, Merry,” Pippin said.  “I should get a bit of fun out of this since I get left out of the drinking.”

“This is not story-time,” Merry growled.  “Now, go away until your thirty-five or so and let me recover.”  Merry burrowed deeper into his blankets in an effort to shut out Pippin’s voice.

Pippin frowned and folded his arms across his chest.  “If you’d let me drink with you, then you wouldn’t have this problem because I’d feel dreadful too.”

“If we let you drink with us, then we’d be up all night while you vomited and I’d be listening to you moan and groan about now,” Merry said, rubbing his aching temples underneath his blankets.

“Much like I was last night?” Pippin asked.  “You vomited all over my foot, you know.”

“You’ve thrown up on me plenty of times,” Merry mumbled.  “Now, let’s not talk of vomit, Pippin.  My stomach isn’t up to it.  In fact, let’s not talk at all.”

Pippin sat still for a few minutes and then muttered,  “I’m eighteen now.  I don’t see why I can’t drink a bit now and then.”

Merry exhaled and rolled over on his back.  He uncovered his head, and draped his arm over his eyes to shut out the light.  “Fine, let’s have this over with so that I can die peacefully.  What must I do to shut you up?  I’m too near death to climb out of this bed and kill you and so I shall have to give in to your demands for the moment,” Merry moaned.

Pippin grinned and leaned forward, “Just tell me about the dream you had about those lasses.  Then, I promise that I’ll go away.”

“It was a very strange dream, Pippin,” Merry sighed.  “I don’t really remember all of it and what I do remember doesn’t quite make sense.”

“It sounded interesting last night,” Pippin objected.  “You moaned a lot and you kept saying something about feathers and ale.”

“Fine,” Merry relented.  “I dreamed that I was in the chicken coop stark naked with nothing but a basket in my hands.”

“You dreamed what?” Frodo asked from the doorway, balancing a tray with two cups on it.

“Not you too?” Merry moaned.  “I have too many cousins, all of them inconsiderate.”

“Get up and let me fall, er, sit down, Pippin,” Frodo said, walking over.  Pippin stood and took the tray from Frodo who sank into the chair.  “Give me my tea.”

Pippin wrinkled his nose and handed the tea a cup to Frodo.  “When did I become your servant?” he demanded.

“As soon as you were old enough to be of some use,” Frodo muttered, sipping his tea.  He took one toe and poked at Merry’s bed.  “Sit up and have your tea.  From the sound of that dream, you need it worse than I do.”

Merry sighed and raised himself up so that he was propped against the pillows on the bed.  “Fine, I’ll drink tea, before I die.”

Pippin handed him the other cup, lay down the tray, and then sat on the end of the bed and prodded, “So, you are naked in the hen house with a basket in your hand and?”

“You are impossible,” Merry growled.  He sipped the tea and then continued.  “I am standing there looking about as if I’ve come for something important only I can’t remember what it is.”

“Your clothes?” Frodo asked, with a smirk.

“No, I don’t seem at all concerned about being naked,” Merry said.  “I am looking about for something else and all of the sudden, the basket turns into a large mug of ale and so I have a drink.”

“That’s convenient,” Pippin said.  “But what about the lasses.  I mean you are naked and so, aren’t there lasses?”

Frodo snorted.  “Honestly, Pippin, it isn’t that simple.”

“I know that, Frodo,” Pippin said, irritated.  “But this is a dream and so it might be that simple.  Dreams are different that way, you know.”

“Not mine,” Frodo grumbled into his cup.

“I am enjoying my drink tremendously, when all of the sudden I hear someone speaking but I can’t make out a word of it,” Merry said.  “They aren’t whispering or anything, I just can’t understand them.  It’s as if it is in some strange language.”

“Like elvish?” Pippin asks.  “These are elvish lasses?”

“No, it isn’t elvish or at least, I don’t think it is and it isn’t lasses,” Merry said, taking another small sip of his tea.  “I hear this funny speech which I don’t understand and then I remember why I’m in the chicken coop to begin with.  I’ve come to get the eggs which was why I had the basket, only now all I have is this empty mug.”

“Eggs?” Frodo said.  “Merry, what did you drink?”

“I know it sounds crazy and I am only telling it to get Pippin to shut up and go away, but I was there to get the eggs,” Merry said.

Frodo smirked.  “You’re making this up.”

“I am not, you evil Baggins, now keep still and let me tell this so that our much younger, and much more annoying little cousin will leave me to die in peace,” Merry growled.

“I am not that much younger,” Pippin complained.

Frodo snorted and sipped his tea.

“I am in a bit of fix now because I don’t have the basket and I am without pockets, but I do need to get the eggs,” Merry said.  “So I go on in and start to search about for the hens, but I can only find three of them.”

“How many eggs do you need?” Pippin asked and Frodo snorts again.

“I don’t know, but I seem worried because there are only three hens,” Merry said, frowning.  “Anyway, I go up to the first one and stick my hand under her to find the egg and she speaks to me.”

“You mean she squawks, don’t you?” Frodo asked.

“No, she speaks to me in that funny language that I heard before at the first of my dream,” Merry said, annoyed.

“What does the chicken say, Merry?” Pippin asked, leaning forward.

“How should I know?  Whatever language she’s speaking in, I don’t know it.  The only bit of it that I remember is something with the word ‘we’ in it.”

“We?” Frodo frowned.

“I know it isn’t much, but it was the only word that I could understand,” Merry said.  “And then the other two hens started speaking to me too and it all got completely confusing.  They were giving me a headache and all I wanted was the eggs.”

“What happened then?” Pippin asked, interested in spite of the complete absence of lasses.

“Well, all three of them started throwing eggs at me and then I woke up with you nagging me to tell you about my dream,” Merry said.

“That was the whole thing?” Pippin said.  “Why do you suppose you were moaning?”

“I was naked in a barn with three hens who were speaking some foreign language and pelting me with eggs, Pippin.  I was probably moaning in pain, much like I am now,” Merry sighed.

“Well, that’s a bit disappointing now, isn’t it?” Pippin frowned, getting up and leaving.

“He’s right, you know, that was disappointing,” Frodo said, closing his eyes and slumping into the chair.

“I may have left out the part about naked hobbit lass who brings me more ale, and then there was an interesting bit with a butter churn,” Merry smiled, wickedly, and closed his eyes.

All attempts on Frodo’s part to get more information at that point went unanswered.

The End

G.W.     12/28/2004

Four Calling Birds #4

Title:  "Bird Song"
Fandom:  Lord of The Rings
Characters:  Frodo and Pippin with mention of Sam
Rating:  very G
Brief Summary:  Sam has taught Pippin something new, but it doesn't seem to be going very well.

“Pippin, don’t cry,” Frodo said, sitting down beside of his little cousin.  Pippin instantly fell into his arms and began to cry even harder.  Frodo sighed and rubbed the child’s back in an effort to calm him down.

“I tried my hardest, Frodo,” Pippin said, between sobs.  “I did it just like Sam showed me.”

“You did what just like Sam showed you, Pippin?” Frodo asked the six-year-old.  “Pippin, what did you do?”

“I did all of them just like Sam does and it didn’t work,” Pippin sniffled and continued to cry on Frodo’s shoulder.

“Pippin what did Sam show you how to do?” Frodo asked.

The child pulled away from Frodo and sniffled again.  “He taught me how to call birds.”

“He did?” Frodo smiled.  “Sam knows quite a few bird calls.  What did he teach you?”

“Well, he taught me to do a sparrow,” Pippin mumbled, wiping his nose with his sleeve.

“Can you do it for me now?” Frodo asked, gently, handing his little cousin his handkerchief in the hopes of saving the shirtsleeve.

Pippin shook his head and looked at his toes while wiping his nose on the handkerchief.

“Well, did he teach you any others?” Frodo asked.

Pippin nodded but didn’t answer.

“Can you do one of them for me?” Frodo asked.  Pippin wasn’t usually this shy about showing off the things that he’d learned.  Something was wrong.

Pippin shook his head again and sniffled a bit more.  “I’m not any good at them.”

 “They do take practice, Pippin,” Frodo said, gently.  “Sam has been doing them for quite a while now and so naturally he is very good.  If he just taught them to you, then it may just take you a while to perfect them.  How many do you know?”

“Four,” Pippin managed. 

“Really?” Frodo asked.

“I know sparrows, robins, bobwhites, and a funny duck call,” Pippin said, sadly.

“Well, that’s very good for a little lad of only six,” Frodo praised him in the hopes of gaining a small smile.

“I do them all wrong,” Pippin sighed, and looked at Frodo through tear-filled eyes.  “I’ve been calling them all morning and none of them have come.  I really wanted to call some ducks.  I’ve fed them before and so I know they like me.”

“I’m afraid that there aren’t too many ducks around Bag End just now, Pippin,” Frodo said, gently.

“I can’t even get the sparrows to come and visit me and I know you have those,” Pippin said.  “Sam says those are all over the whole Shire.  He showed me some, but they won’t come to me.”  Pippin sniffled again.

Frodo held out his arms and let the little child lean into him.  This would take some explaining.  He picked Pippin up and started for the smial.  Maybe some biscuits and a cup of milk might help the situation.  It had often been said that this small child could charm the birds from the trees, but calling them seemed to be another matter.

The End

G.W.     12/29/2004

Five Golden Rings #5
Title:  "The Unbroken Circle"                                               
Fandom:  Lord of The Rings
Characters:  Written from Frodo's POV with mentions of Merry, Bilbo, Pippin, Sam, and others
Rating:    G 
Brief Summary:  Frodo's reflections on his own life.

                                                     The Unbroken Circle

ONE

Rings run without end in a continuous circle with no break.  I never really gave much thought to them and their nature until Bilbo left the Shire and I found that my inheritance included what, at first, seemed to be a simple, small, perfect, golden band.

Sadly, few things are what they appear to be and most are anything but simple.  The ring twisted itself about my very soul and wormed its way into my mind, killing some small part of my spirit and replacing it with the deep ache of shame and despair.  I often long for my old life and to be as I once was, but I know that I must go on from here.  It is the going on that seems to be the hardest.  Some days, I hardly see the point in it all.

TWO

I watched, as another golden ring of a completely different sort, joined my dear, and devoted Sam to the lass of his dreams.  Rose Cotton completes Sam in a way that I can only imagine.  I see it is his eyes when he looks at her.  I see his warm heart and strong sense of goodness reflected back in her eyes when she looks across the room at him.  They are joined and each is like one half of a whole.  They complete each other’s circle and form a ring of life.

THREE

A small, golden ringlet wraps itself about my finger as I run my hands through her perfect curls and I marvel at the way in which a child can draw one back from the edge, for I believe that it is Elenor, Sam and Rose’s tiny, golden-hair child who now holds me here.   I seldom feel the warmth of my home or the need of my family and friends these days, but this small, child in my arms pulls me back to the Shire.  She has formed a thin ring about my heart and for this time with her, I am eternally grateful.  Here is one completely untouched by the evils that invaded our lives.  This sunny, cheerful, little being has known only love and peace in her lifetime.  Through her, I can feel a small part of my old, much-treasured life.  I hold her close as often as her doting parents will allow.

FOUR

Merry and Pippin are here.  I had thought that I might not see them again, but they have come, summoned or alerted by Gandalf, as much for Sam as for me.  With Bilbo and Sam, these two complete the ring formed so long ago when we first set out to destroy the one ring.  All five of us played a part in its destruction.  I see them all here before me one final time and I am glad to have the chance to form a memory of each as they are now. 

Sam, eyes red from tears, both shed and unshed, with his heart broken by my choice.  I know that he understands me best of all and so he will not try to hold me here.  He knows that if I am ever to have peace again, I must take the offered place on the ship and leave the only home I have ever known.   I would worry for my closest of friends and the brother of my heart were it not for the two lovely lasses that I know await his return.  The tears will fade and be replaced by the love of his growing family.  I am leaving him in good hands.

 I must go with dear Bilbo, who stands nearby and waits with Gandalf.  Bilbo’s eyes still sparkle with mischief and his smile can still warm my poor, aching heart in a way that no other can.  I can go on with him, knowing that I may take comfort in his love and understanding for he knows the darkness that has surrounded me.  He has been held in its terrifying grip too.  Once again, he will hold me up when most of my hope is gone.  I will go with him now as I went with him when I was a frightened lad of twenty-two still grieving for my parents and desperate to belong to someone. 

I smile at Pippin, who, throughout our journey in the dark, has managed to smile back at me.  Pippin holds a bright spirit within his heart that has often helped me through the rougher moments of my life.  He is yet young in years.  It is his life that I will wonder about most with the passing of time.  He has yet to settle in many ways and I can only imagine what he will make of his life.   His bright, green eyes find mine and hold me for another moment without words.  He will miss me, but he will also be fine because he has Merry.  Even now, his hand clutches that of his older cousin in search of reassurance that he can only find through Merry’s touch.

Merry, is my lifeline and he completes this circle of mine.  It was he who first pulled me from the despair of my parents’ death.  It was his quick wit and charming schemes that distracted me through my happy days in the Shire.  Later, when things grew dark and uncertain, it was Merry whom I sought out as a sounding board.  I believe that he knew that today was coming long before I knew.  He is strong in ways that neither Sam nor Pippin are and he will look after both of them.  Merry is a caretaker, and the keeper of my darkest secrets.  I may leave to seek peace knowing that he will watch out for the home fires and keep them burning bright.

It is I who must break this bond that we have and go on to what waits beyond.  I will be the one to break the circle and spoil the ring of golden friendship that we have formed.  I will be missed and they will mourn my loss, but they are strong and I know that they will tighten the ring again and hold fast to one another.

FIVE

I go now to finish my own circle.  I must reform the ring that is my life.   As I stand here on the deck of this ship with Bilbo and Gandalf just behind me, I watch those that I hold dear fade into the distance and feel the circle close.  A sense of peace already fills me, and I know that I have done the best that I was able to do with what I was given.

The End

G.W.     12/30/2004

Title:  "Birds of a Feather"
Fandom:  Lord of The Rings
Characters:  Merry, Pippin and Frodo
Rating:  G
Brief Summary:  There is something getting in the way of Pippin and Merry's efforts to reach the Yule Banquet at the Great Smials.  Can they manage to find a way around it?  I'm sorry in advance for the over-use of 'bird' references in this one.  I was in a "fowl" mood when I wrote it.

Pippin leaned his back against the wall and listened to the rumble coming from his stomach.  The smell of food drifted about the hallway and made his hunger all the more intense, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to risk going in that room.  He sighed and folded his arms over his complaining stomach. 

“Planning on spending the entire day in the hall, Pip?” Merry grinned, as he joined him.  “I, for one, plan to do my share of eating.  There is a feast fit for a Brandybuck in there.  Let’s not keep it waiting any longer, cousin.”  Merry took hold of Pippin’s arm and started for the door, but felt himself jerked firmly back.

“You best have a gander at what’s on the other side of that door before you go any further,” Pippin hissed.

Merry peered around the doorframe and then moaned softly.  “The old Lasses.”  He joined Pippin by the door just out of sight.  “Is there another way to the table?”

“No, and you can be sure that if there were, I’d not be hanging around out here,” Pippin said, grimly.  “No, the only way to the feast is through that parlor.”

Merry frowned and took another quick look into the parlor.  There they were, all six of them, just sitting there, waiting for some unsuspecting lad to come passing through the room on his way to the banquet.  “Those old birds are getting between me and my meal,” Merry grumbled.

As if agreeing, Pippin’s stomach chose that moment to growl.  “Well, I’d rather starve to death than go in there,” Pippin said, firmly.  “I will not spend another afternoon like the one that I had last year.”

Merry chuckled softly remembering last year’s Yule dinner celebration.  “Ah, yes, I remember that well.  I was just finishing off my first helping of roasted chicken and gravy at the time that you hit verse twenty or so of that lovely old song, “Home in the Tooklands”.”

“It wasn’t funny,” Pippin said.  “Those old birds kept me singing all afternoon like I was their pet canary or something.  They perched me up on a stood and kept making requests.  I was hoarse for a week after that.”

“The old lasses do love to hear you sing,” Merry said, smiling at his twenty-year-old cousin.

The old lasses, as they were known, were six of the oldest female hobbits in the Tooklands.  There were the twins, eighty-year-old Rhododendron and Philodendron Took, both of whom had remained single all of their lives.  Twins were rare among hobbits and so Rhoda and Philly were doted on as little children.  Their habit of dressing alike and spending all of their time together had lasted throughout their long lives.  Today, they were wearing matching red dresses and sitting side-by-side chattering away like magpies.

Then there was little Fern Grubb Took whose husband had been dead these past twenty years or more.  Fern had raised her only chick alone, for the most part, and now lived quietly in the Great Smials and spent most of her time with the other Old Lasses.  Fern was the youngest of the lasses at seventy-five.  She was the spring chicken of the group.

Just beside of Fern sat Onyx Took who was ninety if she was a day.  Onyx had lost her one true love just three days before her wedding.  The young Brandybuck lad that she had been about to marry had taken ill suddenly and died quickly.  Onyx was left to mourn him and mourn him she had for all of her life to anyone who would listen.

Standing just inside the door was Wisteria Bolger Took.  Wisteria was the newest member of this group, having lost her husband only three years earlier.  Wisteria was ninety-three and had been married three different times.  This was almost unheard of among hobbits who nearly always married for life.  Wisteria had out-lived her first two husbands and had lost the third.  Her Took husband had simply disappeared three years ago like some Tooks did and had left her on her own.

Last, but hardly least, was Petunia Bolger.  Petunia was the younger sister of Wisteria and a life-long single lass.  Petunia had spent most of her life taking care of the older members of her family and now when she had reached the ripe old age of eighty, had begun to amuse herself by drinking a bit too much and gambling.  Petunia would bet on anything.

“Any ideas?” Merry asked, turning to look at Pippin.

“No good ones,” Pippin said.  “I had thought of yelling fire to see if they’d all clear out, but remembered that Aunt Fern is a wee bit deaf.  I have no idea how to shoo them all out of that parlor or how to sneak past them to the food.”

“Those old hens will grab the first lad that goes into that parlor and spend the afternoon clucking over him,” Merry agreed.

“Aye, and it’s not going to be me again this year,” Pippin said.  “I refuse to be pinched and patted on the cheek and told how much I look like my father did when he was my age.  I don’t want to hear how thin I am or what nice eyes I have and I am not singing.”

“Well, I certainly am not spending the day listening to your Aunt Onyx trace my relationship to her tragically lost love,” Merry said.  “I do not want to hear how fond she is of the Brandybucks even though we are an odd group of ducks.”

“Those old birds are just nesting about that parlor like a gaggle of geese laying in wait,” Pippin fretted.  “They’ll swoop down on us the minute we step into that room and start fluttering around us and we’ll never get to eat.”

“What we need is a pigeon, Pip, my lad,” Merry said, smiling.

“What?” Pippin frowned.

“You know, some poor unsuspecting lad that we can use as a decoy,” Merry explained.

“A diversion,” Pippin grinned.

“Exactly,” Merry said.  “Now, who can we snare for this?”

Pippin sighed.  “Fredegar Bolger’s already in the banquet room so he’s out of the question.  It’s a shame too, because they really do like him.  Freddy’s quite a favorite with all of them.”

“Well, we have to be ready, Pip,” Merry said.  “At the first sign of a likely victim, you just follow my lead.  We may have to wing it, but we’ll manage something.  All we need is a bit of luck”

“I hope so, Merry,” Pippin said.  “My stomach is starting to stick to my backbone.”

“Frodo,” Merry hissed, catching sight of their older cousin who was making his way toward them.  He nudged Pippin in the ribs and smiled.

“Perfect!” Pippin crowed.  “They love Frodo. They think he’s such a nice young lad.”  Pippin then began to do a high-pitched voice as he parroted words often said about their older cousin by the lasses.  “Wonder why he’s never married?  There he is with that nice big smial that his crazy uncle left him and no wife.  Such a waste.”

“Yes, the heir to that crazy Bilbo Baggins who must have buried a fortune in the hill of his smial,” Merry snickered.  “This is our chance, Pippin.”  He then straightened and smiled at the approaching victim.  “Hullo, Frodo.”

“Well, hullo yourself, Merry,” Frodo grinned.  “What are you two doing larking about here in the hall when the smell of food is filling the air?  I should have thought that you two would be gobbling up your share of the feast by now.”

“We waited for you,” Pippin smiled, all innocence. 

“I find that very hard to believe, Peregrin Took,” Frodo laughed.  “I know your appetite and I can’t imagine you waiting on anyone.”

“Well, lets not wait any longer, cousin,” Merry said, taking Frodo’s arm.  “Lets get in there before all of the food is gone.”

“Good idea,” Frodo said.  “After you, Pippin.”

“Age before beauty,” Pippin grinned, and waved Frodo ahead.

Frodo was four steps into the parlor before he knew what had hit him.

“Why look, Fern, it’s Frodo Baggins!” Wisteria cackled.

“Well, I haven’t seen you in ages,” Fern said.  “My, but don’t you look nice!”

“I don’t suppose you’ve brought a nice lass with you today, have you?”  Rhoda twittered, giving him a wink and nudging her sister.

As the old lasses flocked around Frodo, Merry and Pippin ducked down and hurried through the parlor to the banquet room.  Frodo caught sight of them over the heads of the old lasses who had surrounded him and mouthed a silent threat.  ‘You two are dead ducks when I manage to get out of this.’

Merry looked at Frodo and grinned and waved.

“Looks like our gooses are cooked, Merry,” Pippin said, as they made their way to the table.

“He’ll have us tarred and feathered if he gets his hands on us,” Merry agreed.

“We better eat fast,” Pippin said, shoving a rather large slice of ham into his mouth.

“You are worrying about nothing, Pip,” Merry smiled.  “Our older cousin will be busier than a rooster in a hen house for most of the afternoon.  He can’t just leave without ruffling their feathers.  We have plenty of time.  Now, hand me a plate and lets get started.”

 The End

G.W.     12/31/2004

Seven Swans A Swimming #7
Title:  "Wagers in Rivendell"
Fandom:  Lord of The Rings
Characters:  Merry, Frodo, Aragorn, Legolas, Pippin and Sam
Rating:  G
Brief Summary:  Merry gambles on his knowledge of his younger cousin.

“Look, Merry,” Pippin whispered, as he pointed out onto the water.  There, swimming amid the reeds and other water plants, were the graceful, white birds with their long necks extended.

Merry smiled.  “They’re beautiful.  I’ve never seen so many at once.”  He followed his cousin’s gaze to the lovely birds gliding past them on the silvery surface of the water.

Frodo, who had been asleep in the tall grass beside of them rolled over onto his stomach and looked out at the water.   “Swans,” he sighed, contently.  “Everything here in Rivendell is so graceful.”

“It’s almost too beautiful,” Merry agreed.

Pippin had inched his way closer to the water and was now squatting down next to the edge of the peaceful river dipping his fingers into the water.  “They’re so close to us,” he said, softly.

Sam, who was also sitting near the water’s edge looked over at Pippin and frowned.  He then looked back at Frodo and Merry who were huddled together a few feet behind Pippin.  Merry leaned over to Frodo and whispered something in his older cousin’s ear and Frodo laughed quietly.  Sam sighed, sensing trouble in the making, and turned his eyes back to the lovely birds.

Legolas and Aragorn stood on the hill just behind the hobbits, enjoying the sunshine and the gentle breeze of the afternoon wind.  “It would seem that the hobbits are enjoying their time here in Rivendell,” Legolas smiled.  He had only recently met them and did not know them well.  He was curious about them.

“They needed the rest, my friend,” Aragorn said.  “We all did, but sadly, we must soon leave.”  He watched as Pippin leaned forward and gently dipped his hand into the water while looking at the swans.

“What do you suppose those two are up to?” Aragorn asked, noticing Merry and Frodo with their heads together, snickering.

“I do not know,” Legolas said.  “Must they be up to something?”

Just then, Pippin’s voice sang out, “Look!  There’s another one!  That’s seven!”  He stood to point toward the latest arrival on the water and turned to look back toward Frodo and Merry as he spoke.  Suddenly he was leaning to one side and fighting for balance.  One of his feet shot up in the air and his arms waved wildly as he tumbled backward into the water sending the swans swimming for the opposite shore.

Merry and Frodo fell against one another in helpless laughter and Sam groaned as Pippin splashed into the water.  Legolas and Aragorn couldn’t help but join in the laughter as Pippin bobbed to the surface, hair plastered to his face and water dripping down the end of his pointed nose.  The hobbit sent a stream of water spurting from his mouth as he splashed about in an effort to reach the shore.

“You owe me five shire pennies, Frodo,” Merry grinned, slapping his older cousin on the back.  “I told you he’d manage to fall in.”

“If you knew, why didn’t you stop him?” Legolas asked, as he and Aragorn came over to join the two hobbits.

“It seemed harmless enough,” Merry said.  “He can swim right enough.  Besides, if I had stopped him, he’d have only gotten into something else.”

“You just wanted to make a bit of money at my expense,” Frodo laughed, giving Merry a gentle shove. Legolas watched as Pippin nearly made the bank but found it too slippery to climb up onto and splashed backwards, awkwardly into the water a second time.  Legolas frowned as Merry and Frodo laughed again.  The elf thought that these two were enjoying this far too much.

“Oiy!  A little help might be nice!”  Pippin yelled, as he surfaced again.

Frodo and Merry continued to laugh as Legolas strode past them toward the water. He couldn’t understand why none of the hobbits were helping Pippin. Even Sam did not attempt to aid the floundering hobbit. 

“I wouldn’t unless I wanted to get soaked, Legolas,” Merry called out between giggles.

Aragorn knelt down beside of the two hobbits.  “You don’t seriously think that Pippin will manage to pull Legolas into the water do you?” Aragorn asked, looking at Merry.

“Five pennies says he will,” Merry said, extending his hand and grinning up at the man.

Laughing, Aragorn shook Merry’s hand.  “You have a bet.”

The three of them watched as Sam stood, still shaking his head and trying not to laugh while Legolas bent over and extended his hand to Pippin who was now splashing about ungainly and shaking water from his hair.  The elf patiently leaned forward and extended his arm a bit further.

Aragorn found that he was holding his breath in anticipation, while beside of him, Frodo and Merry were snickering.  “Get ready to lose your money,” Merry said.

“That is an elf that you are betting against, my friend,” Aragorn reminded Merry as he watched Legolas lean over even further still as Pippin bobbed about and flailed his arm in an attempt to reach the elf’s hand.  “Elves are able to react quickly in all situations.  They are naturally graceful.”

Sam stood on the bank and rolled his eyes skyward.  Across from them, the swans gracefully exited the water and stood looking back toward the floundering hobbit and squawking.

“This is deeper than I thought,” Pippin sputtered, and pushed off toward Legolas hand with a jerk using his feet to propel upward with a sudden burst of energy.  Legolas was, surprisingly, caught off guard by the suddenness of Pippin’s movement and as Pippin caught him by the hand he felt himself being pulled face first toward the water.  Frodo and Merry were practically howling by this time and Aragorn allowed his own laughter to escape as the smallest of the hobbits somehow managed to pull Legolas into the water with him.

There was an enormous splash and Sam found himself soaked by a fountain of water as Legolas hit the surface and went under.  “Do elves swim?” Sam asked, looking back toward Aragorn a bit worriedly.

“I told you,” Merry giggled at Aragorn and fell over onto the grass.

None of them realized that a crowd had gathered on the far bank near the swans to watch until they began to hear laughter coming from across the water.  Aragorn looked over to see a large gathering of elves and one very amused Dwarf watching as Legolas, dripping wet, stepped onto the bank carrying Pippin effortlessly, under one arm.

“At the moment, not everything in Rivendell is graceful,” Merry whispered as Legolas strode up the bank and deposited the dripping Pippin next to Frodo’s feet.

“I do not wish to discuss this,” the elf said, looking definitely at Aragorn and then continuing to walk up the hill and out of sight. 

Merry grinned broadly at Pippin and then glanced over at Aragorn and smiled.  “And now you owe me five pennies.”

“I didn’t think that elves ever fell,” Pippin said by way of a greeting as he looked over at his cousins and Aragorn.  “I wasn’t expecting that at all.”  He shook his curls splattering everyone with water and then began to wring out the tail of his shirt.

Aragorn threw back his head and laughed until he fell onto his back on the grass as Merry and Frodo began to tease Pippin good-naturedly.

The swans, taking note that the water was again calm, slipped back into the lake and began to swim gracefully.

 The End

G. W.     01/01/2005

Eight Maids A Milking #8

Title:  "Milk Money"
Fandom:  Lort of The Rings
Characters:  Merry, Pippin, Frodo, Fredegar
Rating:  G
Brief Summary:  Merry and Pippin have a cash flow problem, but Merry has a plan to resolve it  and Frodo and Fredegar are about to have a rather interesting time at the Spring Fair in Hobbiton.

“I don’t know about this Merry,” Fredegar said.  “We might get caught and then what will we do?”

“Relax, Freddy,” Merry grinned.  “You worry too much.  We won’t be caught.  You look great.”

“Yes, well, I suppose it isn’t too bad,” Freddy admitted, surveying himself in the mirror.  “I just don’t want to get caught like this, Merry.  Are you quite sure that Pippin won’t slip and say something?  That little hobbit-child of which you are so fond, does have a way of putting his foot in his mouth, you know.”

Merry waved a hand dismissively.  “Oh, you don’t have to worry about Pippin.  He’s all right when it comes to this sort of thing.  He won’t give you away.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Freddy frowned, turning and looking back at his reflection over his shoulder.  “I’d never manage to explain this to my father.”

“You won’t have to, Freddy,” Merry said, patting him on the shoulder.  "No one is going to have to explain anything."

_____________________Sometime later..... 

“There you two are,” Frodo said, coming up behind Merry and Pippin.  “I have looked all over for you.  What are you doing over here?”

“Watching Pervinca lose,” Pippin smiled.

Merry elbowed his little cousin and then looked over at Frodo.  “We were just trying to lend some support for Pip’s sister is all.  The competition is quite fierce this year,” Merry said.

“Yes, some might say that it was hardly fair at all,” Pippin smiled, rocking on the balls of his feet, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Merry cleared his throat nervously and said quickly, “What are you doing over here, cousin?”

“Oh, well, I was looking for the two of you,” Frodo said.  “I wanted to see if either of you had entered any of the events this year.  I know that both of you could use the spending money at this point and so I thought perhaps you might try to win an event of some sort.” 

Merry sighed.  “Well, I think it will be a good lesson for Pip and me to do without for a while.  I guess we really should have expected to get punished for that last bit of mischief.” 

Frodo frowned.  “You are up to something yet again.  I know that look, Meriadoc Brandybuck.”

“See, and Freddy thought that I would be the one to give it away,” Pippin said.  “You are the problem.”

Merry’s eyes went wide and Frodo turned to look at fourteen-year-old Pippin.  “So, Freddy thought you would give what away?”

Pippin paled and backed up a step and Merry quickly jumped in.  “Freddy was worried that Pippin might get into trouble today, but I assured him that I was looking out for Pippin.  You know how Freddy worries about things,” Merry said, trying to hide his nervousness from Frodo’s knowing eyes.

Frodo glanced about.  “Where is Freddy?”

“How should we know?” Merry asked, putting a hand on Pippin’s shoulder and clamping down firmly in the hopes of keeping the younger hobbit quiet.   “Why don’t you check over by the food tables?”

Just then Frodo was distracted by the sound of Tom Cotton’s voice announcing the start of the milking contest’s third round.  Thinking that it would be wise not to lose sight of either of his cousins at this point, Frodo took hold of the back of Pippin’s braces and then placed a hand on Merry’s shoulder.  He moved the three of them closer to the fence for a better view.

“Now, as you all know this year’s competition has been very close indeed,” Tom was saying.  “It has come down to this final round and I think all of the young lasses involved to this point deserve a round of applause.”  Tom waited while those gathered around the fenced in area clapped and cheered before he continued. 

Frodo eyed Merry and Pippin suspiciously and then looked back toward Tom who was waving his hands about to silence the enthusiastic on-lookers.

“The young lasses involved in this contest have done some fine milking today,” Tom continued.  “But we do need to pick a winner and I think that this round will tell the tale.  Each of these lovely lasses will have one more opportunity to impress you fine folks with their milkin’ skills.”  He turned to face a row lasses standing near a row of cows.  Beside of each cow was a milking stool and a lass stood behind each stool holding a pail in her hands and waiting for the signal to begin.

Frodo watched as Tom walked closer to the lasses and spoke to them.  “Now you all know what to do.  There are only eight of you left at this point and in a few short minutes there will only be one winner, but I do want to let each of you know how well you’ve all done.”  Applause erupted again and several of the on-lookers shouted words of encouragement to sisters and daughters.  Pippin leaned on the fence and yelled out, “You can do it, Sapphire!”

“Pippin, shouldn’t you be encouraging Pervinca?” Frodo said, sternly.  “That is Pervinca over there by the third cow, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but if Pervinca wins we won’t get anything at all,” Pippin objected.  “She wouldn’t share her prize money with us if her life depended on it.  Besides, Papa has told her she’s not to give me any money.”

Merry reached over and rapped Pippin on the head and then quickly looked over at Frodo.  “He’s a bit angry at Pervinca, Frodo.  Since Pip and I got our money cut off for painting that rather rude poem on Farmer Maggot’s barn, Pervinca has been teasing him about not having any coin.”

“Yes, that’s all,” Pippin said, nodding a bit too much.  “Besides, she never wins.  She only does it for the attention.  She’s not a very fast milker.  I’m much better.”

“Yes, but you can’t enter because the competition is for lasses only,” Frodo said.

Pippin smirked.  “Oh, well, sometimes things can surprise you.”

Merry rapped Pippin a bit harder on the head this time and hissed, “This is why no one trusts you to keep your mouth shut.”

Pippin frowned and fell silent, leaving Frodo to wonder what his two younger cousins had done this time.  The two of them had barely been allowed to come to the spring fair this year after their fathers had been summoned not three weeks earlier to fetch them when farmer Maggot had caught the two of them painting on his barn.  The two had been made to repaint the side of the barn that they had vandalized and both had lost all of their spending money for the next month.  One more bit of mischief at this point would most likely get them grounded for the entire summer.

“So now, on your mark,” Tom Cotton was saying as Frodo looked toward the milkers.  “Get set, and Go!”

The cheering started again as the eight lasses quickly sat on their stools and shoved the pails underneath the cows and began milking.  The first lass in the group was last year’s winner, the second one was of the Bracegirdle lasses but Frodo wasn’t sure which one, the third was Pervinca Took, one of Pippin’s older sisters, the fourth was little Poppy Brockhouse, the youngest of the contestants, the fifth was a rather large lass that Frodo didn’t recognize, the sixth was, wait a minute, just who was that fifth lass?  Frodo frowned and tried to catch a glimpse of the lass’s face but couldn’t see for the bonnet that she wore.  “Who is the fifth lass?”

“What fifth lass?” Merry asked, stupidly.

“The only fifth lass in the row, Merry,” Frodo hissed firmly.  “Now, just who is under that bonnet?”

“How should I know?” Merry asked, weakly.

“Pippin?” Frodo asked, leaning over and turning Pippin’s head to face him by putting a hand on the lad’s head.

“Well, even if I did know, which I don’t, well, then I wouldn’t be able to tell you that,” Pippin rattled.

With the crowd cheering wildly, Frodo bent forward and pulled both cousins in so that they, but no one else, could hear him.  “Who is number five?”

“Frodo, I think maybe you’d be a whole lot happier if you weren’t here in a few minutes,” Merry suggested by way of an answer and Pippin nodded in agreement with his older cousin.  “You really don’t care who wins this thing, do you?” Merry asked trying to sound casual.

“I do now,” Frodo said, looking back toward the competition.

“Time!” Tom Cotton yelled and all of the lasses sat back on their stools while two lads came around and measured the amount of milk in each of the pails.  The crowd waited anxiously for the results and Tom and the other two judges conferred.

Pippin and Merry had gone very quiet and Frodo desperately wished that his two younger cousins had been unable to attend this fair.  He had a feeling that both of them were about to be in very big trouble. 

“Well, it’s official, folks,” Tom said, grinning.  “Our winner is first-time entrant, Sapphire Rockheaver who is visiting relations here in Hobbiton.  Congratulation to Miss Rockheaver!”

As the rather large lass in the bonnet made her way over to collect her prize, there was polite applause from the crowd, all of whom were a bit annoyed that a visitor had taken the prize from the local lasses.  Beside of Frodo, Pippin whistled and clapped wildly while Merry closed both eyes and seemed to be holding his breath.

“Rockheaver?”  Frodo frowned.  “Where in all of the Shire are the Rockheavers from?”

“Michel Delving,” Pippin informed him.  “Isn’t that right, Merry?”

“Congratulations on your cousin’s big win, Frodo,” the Mayor of Hobbiton said, patting Frodo on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry?” Frodo frowned at the Mayor.

“He’s over-come with joy for her,” Merry said, smiling at the Mayor.  “She’s shy and Frodo didn’t think she’d have a chance is all.”

“Why, a big hardy lass like that?” the mayor grinned.  “That lass could probably carry a cow half way across town.  Milking one was probably no effort at all for her.”

Merry frowned.  “I hope you don’t mean to insult Frodo’s cousin’s size, sir.  She’s very sensitive.”

“Why of course not, lad,” the Mayor said, quickly.  “I must go up and award her the prize now.”  With that he hurried past them and off to join Tom Cotton who was standing there congratulating Miss Rockheaver.

“My cousin?” Frodo demanded of Merry.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Merry muttered.  “I mean, after all, you have traveled to Michel Delving before and so it made some sense that you’d have family there.  Also in order to enter the contest, he, I mean she had to be staying in town and you do live in town.”

“I have family by the name of Rockheaver?” Frodo asked, looking dumb-founded.

“That was my idea,” Pippin grinned, proudly.  “I made up the name myself, you know.  No one’s ever heard of it before and so they aren’t likely to think they’re related to her or ask questions.”

Frodo groaned.  “Who is that under that bonnet?”

No answer.

Frodo asked again, “Who is that?  If I am to be her cousin then I should at least know who she is.”

Merry mumbled something but Frodo wasn’t able to hear what because a disturbance had broken out near the winner’s area of the milking competition.  Frodo and Merry and Pippin all looked on as Pervinca Took and two of the other lasses began to yell at Miss Rockheaver.

Within seconds, Miss Rockheaver’s bonnet was in Pervinca’s hands and the Mayor was staring open-mouthed, prize money in hand, at the former Miss Rockheaver.  Several members of the crowd turned to look in Frodo’s direction and frowned as if they thought he might know something about this.  Pippin made an unsuccessful attempt to escape but Frodo caught him by the ear.  He glared at Merry and pointed with his other hand in the direction of the Mayor and the bonnet-less, Miss Rockheaver, better known as Fredegar Bolger.

Merry lowered his head and the three of them started toward Freddy.  Merry suspected that his foolproof plan to get a bit of money to hold him until his punishment was over had just backfired.  Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea after all.  He sincerely hoped that his father grounded him so that Fredegar couldn’t get his hands on him.  From the look on Freddy’s face, he was almost as angry as Frodo was about now.   Maybe there was a way to blame this entire thing on Pippin.  Probably not, but maybe.

 The End

G.W.     01/02/2005

Nine Ladies Dancing #9

Title: A Fairy Tale

Fandom:  LOTR

Rating:  G

Characters:  Merry, Estella, Fredegar, Sam, Rose, Diamond, and Pippin

Summary:  Story telling on a rainy day at Crickhollow two years or so after the quest.

                                             "A Fairy Tale"

“Just tell it,” Diamond teased.  “I think you’re stalling.”  She arched an eyebrow at him and leaned forward putting her nose just inches from his.

“I am not stalling, I am just deciding where to begin,” Pippin countered, as he shifted on the sofa.  “You can’t just start these things anywhere you like.”  He leaned back against the sofa and put a finger to his chin as if thinking the matter over.

Diamond laughed and sat back in her place, straightening her skirts.  “Fine, then start it at the proper place, but just get on with it if you please.  I have never known a proper Took who had this much trouble starting a story,” she said, with a wink at Estella who was seated in a rocker near the fireplace.

“Yes, well, Diamond, you should be warned that Pippin isn’t a proper Took at all,” Estella said.  “Proper isn’t a word we use to describe him.”

“Behave, Estella Bolger, or you’ll not get a story a’tall,” Pippin said, pretending to be injured by her remark.

“Just tell the story,” Merry laughed, as he put another log on the fire.  “It’s a rainy afternoon and the perfect time for a nice story, so get on with it, Peregrin.”

“Yes, Pippin,” Fredegar Bolger sighed, lighting his pipe.  “But tell something we haven’t heard a million times or I am likely to doze off in the middle of it all.”  He leaned back against the sofa at Pippin’s feet and yawned.

“You’ll go to sleep even if you haven’t heard it, Freddy dearest,” Estella smiled at her older brother.

Pippin cleared his throat and shifted on the sofa again and said, “I think I have it!”

“About time,” Merry said.  “Just be certain that you sit still and don’t move that ankle too much.  The healer said that you aren’t to stir about for a few days without help.”

“I’m not getting up, you old fuss-budget,” Pippin frowned.  “Now, let me tell this lovely story before Freddy dies of boredom.”

Sam chuckled and squeezed Rose’s hand.  “This is takin’ longer than it would take me to go to Hobbiton and fetch back a good book.”

As Rose giggled, Pippin began his story.

“Once, not so long ago, in a land known as Tookland, there lived a very powerful Thain.  This Thain had four children, three daughters, each more lovely than the last, and a very handsome son,” Pippin said.

Merry groaned.  “I may be sick.”

“Hush, Merry, this could be entertaining,” Estella giggled.  “After all, so far it seems to be entirely made up.”  She smirked at Pippin who chose to ignore her as the others laughed.

Pippin continued.  “Now, the Thain was concerned that his only son and heir was as yet unwed.  So, the Thain decided to gave a great Ball and invite all of the most eligible lasses from all four farthings so that his very handsome son could chose a bride.  He sent out very formal invitations by special messenger requesting that everyone come to his great Palace in the Tooklands for the Ball.”

“Palace?” Merry asked.

“Tis a fairy tale, Merry,” Pippin said.  ‘There are always Palaces in fairy tales.”

“Oh, excuse me,” Merry said, rolling his eyes.  “Go on.”

“Now, the Thain’s son wasn’t too sure that he wanted to marry,” Pippin said.  “You see, he was ever so popular and so he had plenty of lasses who enjoyed his company.  He wasn’t sure that he was ready to settle down and marry.  In fact, he was quite set against it.”

“Maybe he just hadn’t met the right lass,” Diamond said, smiling.

Pippin ignored this and continued.  “He didn’t really want to go to the Ball, but he could see no way out of it and so, on the night of the Ball, he dressed in his finest apparel and presented himself in proper form for all of the lasses of the Shire to look upon.”

Merry snorted and Sam rolled his eyes, but Pippin continued anyway, undaunted.

“The music was quite good and the Thain had provided a feast fit for a King, for indeed, the Thain was like a great King.  So, it rained food and drink throughout the entire Ball and all of the hobbits present were mightily impressed.  None had seen anything like it before in all of their days.  As the young, very handsome heir, who just by coincidence, happened to be named Peregrin, entered the Ball room, he felt all of the eyes of every lass turn to gaze upon him.”

“Are you asleep yet, Freddy?” Merry asked, in a whisper.  “Because I am about to be sick.”

“Not yet,” Freddy said.  “I want to see if the handsome heir gets married before I doze off.”

“Someone appreciates a fine story,” Pippin said.  “Now, where was I before Merry so rudely interrupted?”

“Every eye of every lass was on the handsome heir,” Diamond said.

“Yes, that’s right,” Pippin said.  “You see, all of the lasses were very interested in trying to be the one to marry the young lad because all of them wanted to be the wife of the future Thain of the Shire, and there was the fact that Peregrin was irresistible and very charming.”  Pippin winked at Diamond who pretended not to notice.  “So, when the dancing began, all of the most eligible lasses all lined up to dance with him.  He was very selective about who he would dance with and so he went down the line and selected the very loveliest of the lasses and sent the rest away to dance with his rather ugly cousin, Meriadoc.”

Merry glared at him.  “Now, just a minute.”

“It’s only a story, Merry and the ugly lad just happens to have the same name that you do,” Pippin said, smiling.  “It isn’t my fault.”

“You are the one telling the story,” Merry said.

“I’m telling it,” Pippin said.  “You don’t really think that I made this up do you?”

Everyone in the room answered, “Yes!”

“Oh, well, imagine that,” Pippin said, still smiling.  “Anyway, to continue. Where was I again?”

“Inches from a dreadful beating,” Merry said, glaring at him.

“The handsome Peregrin had just sent all of the unsuitable lasses over to dance with his ugly cousin, Meriadoc,” Freddy said, grinning at Merry.

“Right then,” Pippin said.  “That only left him with nine of the fairest lasses in all of the Shire to chose from.  So, he began to dance with the lasses to see which ones he liked.  The first lass that he danced with was a fair lass by the name of Estella.”

“He didn’t!” Diamond objected in mock horror.

“Oh, yes he did,” Pippin said, smiling at Estella who sighed.

“Why didn’t Peregrin the boring send Estella off to dance with Meriadoc?” Merry asked.

“Because she was far too lovely for the likes of him,” Pippin said, loftily.

“That may well be true,” Estella agreed with a smile at Merry.

“It may indeed,” Merry grinned.

“Estella was quite hooured by Peregrin’s attentions and enjoyed the dance very much as Peregrin was a very fine dancer and the music was quite wonderful,” Pippin said.

Estella was now rolling her eyes and Rose was trying very hard not to giggle too loudly.  Diamond had folded her arms and was trying to look injured but Pippin continued as if he hadn’t noticed this. 

“When Peregrin had finished dancing with the lovely Estella, he then invited another lovely lass to dance with him.  This lass was very fair indeed and also a very fine dancer.  Her name was Rose,” Pippin smiled over at Rose and received a warning glare from Sam.

“I don’t think Rose is eligible,” Merry warned.  “She’s married to Samwise, remember?”

“Not the Rose in this story, Merry,” Pippin said.  “The Rose in this story isn’t married at all and she is more than happy to dance with the handsome young heir.  In fact, she was just ever so slightly offended that she wasn’t chosen to dance with him first.”

“Why are we listenin’ to this hogwash again?” Sam asked, looking less than amused.

“Because it’s raining and Pippin has injured his ankle,” Merry sighed. 

“Let him finish,” Rose smiled, squeezing Sam’s hand and giving him a kiss on the cheek that made him blush.  “It is only a story.”

“Where was I” Pippin asked, scratching his head.

“Dancing with Rose,” Diamond said, annoyed.

“Oh, yes,” Pippin said.  “The handsome Peregrin danced several dances with the lovely Rose before he danced with the next lass in the line.  He had decided that he would dance with them all so as not to disappoint any of them as some of them had come a very long way just to dance with him.”

“A wasted trip,” Merry smirked.

Pippin ignored him and went on.  “Peregrin had soon danced with all nine of the lasses and sadly, had found none of them to his liking.  Oh, he had tried to like them, but he just couldn’t.  He was very depressed.  Even his rather ugly cousin, Meriadoc seemed to be having a better time than he was.  Peregrin had decided that he would have to spend his whole life going from one party to another with a different lass each evening and never being truly happy.  Oh, he was popular and handsome and terribly rich and intelligent-“

“See, I told you it was completely made up,” Estella whispered to Merry who grinned.

“I heard that,” Pippin said, sternly.  “Now, be quiet so I can finish this, Estella.  Now where was I this time?”

“You were going on and on about how rich and handsome Peregrin is,” Diamond said.

“Well, he was,” Pippin said.  “But he wasn’t happy and neither was the Thain when he found out that Peregrin didn’t like any of the lasses at the Ball.  The Thain was fit to be tied in fact and he threatened to disown his handsome son because he was afeart that he’d never have any grandsons.  In fact, the Thain was so angry that he gave Peregrin an ultimatum, either find a bride before the stroke of midnight, or leave the Palace and never return.”

“The Thain is rather harsh isn’t he?” Freddy asked, yawning.

“You have no idea,” Pippin agreed.  “So, feeling dejected, Peregrin decided to dance with the nine lasses again, only, it seems that Estella had left the Ball in disgrace because she had become so upset when Peregrin didn’t take to her.”

“Pippin, you are about to be in very big trouble,” Estella said, sharply.

“At least you’re not ugly,” Merry grinned at her.

“At least you’re in the story,” Diamond sniffed. 

“Well, since Estella had left, Peregrin had to find another lass to take her place as he had his heart set on nine.  So his very helpful friend, Fredegar, suggested that he pick a young lass who had been late in arriving because her carriage had broken down.  Fredegar said that the poor, dear, lass was very upset because she had missed dancing with Peregrin and she was near to broken hearted over it all, so being a proper gentleman, Peregrin agreed to see this lass,” Pippin said.

“Seems that the Fredegar in the story gets far more respect than I do,” Freddy said, amused.  “Folks listen to him.”

“Aye, important folks, like the Thain’s heir,” Pippin said, smiling.  “So, Fredegar takes Peregrin over to meet this young lass.  Well, the lass is not at her best because she was forced to walk when her carriage broke down and so her dress is a bit muddy and her hair has come down out of its lovely ribbons and she is all tired and a bit sweaty.  She’s a real mess, but she curtseys to the heir and does the best that she can because she is very grateful just to have a chance to dance with him.”

“You mean he dances with her?  I figured he would send her over to dance with his ugly cousin,” Merry said, pretending to be shocked.

“Oh, no he is a gentleman and he knows that she has been through quite a lot just to see him and so, naturally he grants her one dance,” Pippin said.

“Naturally,” Sam groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Well, he takes her in his arms and they began to dance and he is instantly struck by how lovely she is in spite of how dirty she is and so he asks her what her name might be because his good friend, Fredegar forgot to tell him that as he is often a bit muddle-headed,” Pippin said, patting Fredegar on the head.

“The Fredegar in the story is not ugly, he is just simple-minded,” Freddy said, looking over at Merry.

“So it seems,” Merry agreed.

“The lass smiles and tells the very handsome Peregrin that her name is Diamond and that she is so very honored to meet him and so sorry about her-ouch!  That is my sore foot,” Pippin winced as Diamond hit him lightly in the ankle.  “You are quite wicked, you know.”

“Sorry, it was only an accident,” Diamond said, sweetly while Merry and Sam laughed.

“Well, the Diamond in the story would never have done that,” Pippin said.

“I am most assuredly not that Diamond,” Diamond said, firmly.

“Anyway, Peregrin decides that if Diamond will clean up a bit and put on some proper clothes that he will indeed marry her because even though she is completely filthy, she is still the loveliest lass at the Ball,” Pippin said.

“Estella went home,” Estella whispered to Merry who smiled at her.

“This makes the Thain very happy and it also makes Diamond the happiest hobbit lass in all of the Shire and all of the other lasses are very jealous of her because she is marrying the handsome Peregrin.  And Peregrin and Diamond live happily after after.  The end,” Pippin said.  “Now, wasn’t that a wonderful story?”

“No,” Sam said, and everyone laughed while Pippin pretended to be insulted.

“Well, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Diamond admitted.  “I’m sorry I hit you in the ankle.”

“That’s alright,” Pippin smiled.

“Now, I think I shall tell a story,” Merry said, smiling.  “Once upon a time there was a half-wit named Pippin who-“

“I don’t think I am going to like this one,” Pippin objected.

“No, but everyone else might enjoy it,” Merry grinned.  “Now, pay attention.  This poor, ugly half-wit……..”

The End

G.W.     01/03/2005 

Ten Lords a Leaping #10

Title:  Even the Wisest
Fandom:  LOTR
Characters: Lord Elrond and several other Lords
Rating:  G
Brief Summary:  Thoughts on judgments made by those in power.

Even The Wisest

Even the mightiest among us make mistakes in judgment. It is true that even the wisest cannot see all ends.  Sometimes the best-laid plans do go awry no matter how powerful you are or how well you’ve thought things through.

Ask the Dark Lord Sauron about this.  As he marched onto the battlefield on that day, he must have felt invincible.  He must have been quite sure that no harm could come to him and that nothing could spoil his plans.  He was powerful and he had been clever for on his finger was the greatest weapon known in all of Middle Earth, the Ring of Power.  He had forged it and he knew well its strength.  Naturally, it was understandable that he might leap to the conclusion that his victory was assured.

He was wrong, for with one quick stroke from the remains of his broken sword, the Lord Isiluor snatched victory from his grasp.  Now, the ring had left him along with several of his fingers and his power was no more.  A mere mortal had stolen his victory.  Now, the Ring of Power had come to Isildur and he would wield it accordingly.

If asked, I am quite sure that Lord Isildur would say that he was more than able to control the Ring of Power.  After all, it had come to him and was now his own.  It was merely a tool and he could control it.  Sadly, he had leapt to the wrong conclusion also and paid with his life.

The ring of power was not the only tool wielded by the great in Middle Earth, nor was it the only tool to deceive the user.  When the great wizard Saruman first looked into the Palantir, he did not realize his folly in believing that he could control it.  He also did not realize that his new ally, the Dark Lord Sauron, meant to have control for himself alone and had no intention of sharing his power.   The Lord Saruman, as his minions came to call him, was deceived into believing that his own power was far greater than that of the Dark Lord.  He allowed himself to leap to the conclusion that he and the Dark Lord would rule side by side.

The Palantir also fooled the Lord Denethor of Gondor.  The Steward, once a noble man, soon fell to madness because he had used the Palantir in an effort to gain knowledge to help his city and his people.  He leaped to the conclusion that he could use what he saw to gain power but what he gained was madness and that drove him to his own death.

Another great Lord of men would be deceived by words.  King Theoden of Rohan would let Grimma Wormtongue persuade him of many things, among them, that his own nephew was treasonous.  The Lord Theoden would let words turn him from his Kingship and from his people.  He would come to feel old and useless through the power of these words spoken by one under the influence of the Wizard Saruman.  He would leap to the conclusion that he was useless and old and that Saruman was his ally.  He would nearly be lost, but he would get a second chance.

Denethor’s oldest son, the Lord Boromir also made the wrong assumption.  As he listened to the advice of the Council in Rivendell, Lord Boromir was convinced that the ring of power need not be destroyed.  It was a gift!  It could be used to gain victory over the Dark Lord.  He was sure that if he could get this ring to his father in Minas Tirith that victory would be within his grasp.  The ring could be used for good.  His leap to this conclusion would cost him the trust of his companions.  He would regain his senses, but not in time to save his life.  At least he would save a bit of his honor.

This one ring also would tempt Boromir’s younger brother.  Lord Faramir would be faced with the choice of taking the ring to Minas Tirith.  The ring would simply fall into his hands when he encountered Frodo Baggins, a hobbit of the Shire and his gardener, Samwise Gamgee.  Unlike others before him, Lord Faramir would not succumb to the temptation to take the ring, but rather would take a leap of faith.  He would trust the hobbits and would set them and the ring of power on their way to Mordor.  His faith would be rewarded.

Another great Lord would be forced to take a leap of faith.  He would be asked to believe in the hearts of men.  Lord Elrond, half Elvin would be faced with a choice.  He had believed that the race of men was a weak one and that no strength remained in them.  He would take a leap of faith and put his trust in the one who was the rightful King of Gondor.  He would not only trust this mortal to take up the defense of Middle Earth, but he would also trust him with the hand of his daughter in marriage.  Lord Elrond would be convinced that this man could lead the race of men.  He would come to believe that the time of men had come to Middle Earth.  He would be right.

The great wizard Gandalf the Grey, known in the White city of Minas Tirith as the Lord Mithrandir, would, perhaps take the greatest leap of faith of them all.  He would trust in the strength of one small hobbit against all odds.  He would put the very fate of Middle Earth into the hands of this one hobbit.  His choice would be to trust Frodo Baggins to do what no man, wizard, or elf could do.  He would trust him to destroy the ring of power.  It was a very big leap indeed.  His faith would be well placed.

A man who had given up his rightful place as a king among men would lead his people to victory over the Dark Lord.  He would trust in a wizard, he would trust in a hobbit, he would trust in his people, and he would earn the trust of all.  Lord Aragorn would assume his rightful place as the heir to the throne of Gondor.  He would find the strength within himself to rule his people.  He would leave his life as a ranger behind and become what he was born to be.  He would take a leap of faith and believe in himself.

Not everyone leaps to the wrong conclusion.  Some leaps of faith are justified.

 The End

G.W.     01/04/2005

Eleven Pipers #11

Title:  A Brief History of Smoking 
Fandom:  LOTR
Characters:  Legolas, Aragorn, Merry, Gimli, Frodo, Pippin, Gandalf, and a few others
Rating: G
Brief Summary:  Legolas tries to understand the attraction of smoking.

The room was almost completely filled with smoke.  It wafted in the air like a thick cover of fog.  Legolas wrinkled his nose in distaste and continued to the far table where his friends were seated.

The elf looked very out of place in the dark, smoky pub and he could feel the eyes of those that were still sober watching him make his way to the table.  Before he could actually see him, he could hear Gimli.

“Legolas!  Join us,” Gimli greeted him.  “We were just havin’ a mug of ale and a pipe.  It’s been a long day for all.  Take a seat, laddie!”

Legolas seated himself and wondered, not for the first time, what his companions found so delightful about smoking.  He much preferred fresh air and the scent of growing things on the wind to this foul smelling substance.  He schooled his face so as not to let his displeasure show.

Aragorn smiled knowingly at him and said, “I know you must find this a strange habit, but it helps me to relax and to think.”  Aragorn tapped his pipe with a finger.

“It’s Old Toby,” Merry said, brightly.

“Finest pipe weed in the whole of Middle Earth,” Pippin sighed, and drew a long puff on his own pipe.

“Are hobbits born smoking?” Legolas asked with a faint smile of his own.

“Nearly,” Sam said and everyone laughed.

“It depends upon your family’s inclinations,” Frodo said.  “Some hobbits start smoking when the mood strikes them and others are required to wait for a proper age.  I suppose it is much the same with all races.  Each family is of a different mind.”  He began refilling his own pipe from a pouch that Merry extended to him as he spoke.  “I was quite young when I began to smoke.  My parents died when I was very young and so at certain points in my youth, rules were a bit unclear,” Frodo continued and grinned a bit.

“How young?” Aragorn asked.

“I was fourteen,” Frodo admitted, lighting his pipe. 

“I was twelve,” Sam said shyly.

“Twelve!” Pippin fairly shouted, and looked amazed.  “You weren’t really.”

“I was,” Sam grinned.  “I got one of my older brothers to let me have a try.  I reckon he thought I’d not be able to stomach it, but I did.”

“What did your father say?” Pippin asked, sending a ring of smoke into the air that seemed for a moment to wreath his head.

“Well, he said if I was goin’ to smoke that I’d be paying for my own pipe weed,” Sam said.  “So I had to earn my own coin for it, but as long as I didn’t smoke in my mum’s smial, then I was allowed.”

“I was eighteen,” Merry grinned.  “Frodo let me try a puff or two on his pipe and after that, I would sneak a pipe every chance I got.  I wasn’t supposed to smoke until I turned twenty, but I suspect that my father knew full well what I was doing.  It was my mum that I had to worry about if she caught me.”

“I had never tried it before, but I am enjoying it,” Faramir said, holding his pipe out and looking at it as if he’d never seen it before.  “It is soothing in a way that I had not expected it to be.”

“It has its charms,” Gandalf said, blowing a chain of smoke rings that seemed to be intertwined links like in a real chain.

“How do you do that?” Pippin asked, leaning over and looking at the wizard in appreciation.

“I doubt that I would be able to teach you,” Gandalf smiled.

“Yes, he is only a beginner,” Merry grinned.

“I am not,” Pippin objected.  “I have been smoking long enough now.”

“How old were you, lad?” Gimli asked and the three older hobbits laughed while Pippin blushed.

“Well, I didn’t have any older brothers, only sisters and they don’t smoke,” Pippin said.  “And these two never let me try.”  He pointed the stem of his pipe at Frodo and Merry.

“How old?” Aragorn asked, grinning.

“I was twenty-two,’ Pippin mumbled.  “But that’s long enough.”

Merry snorted.  “I remember the first time you-“

Pippin silenced his older cousin with a pleading look and a swift kick to the shin underneath the table.  Realizing that they were smoking with several of Pippin’s friends from the guard including Faramir and Beregond, Merry thought better of tormenting his young cousin and changed the subject.  “How long have you been smoking, Gimli?”

“Oh, we dwarves start smoking early on like Sam, there,” Gimli said amid his own private cloud of smoke.  “Dwarves are truly naturals with pipes.  The one that I had when I left Rivendell was hand-carved for me by my grandfather when I was a lad of ten.”

Beregond smiled.  “I’d love to see that.”

“Ah, the shame of it is that I seem to have lost it somewhere on the way,” Gimli said, with genuine regret in his voice.  “Young Peregrin there loaned me the one that I have now when we caught up to him and Meriadoc in Isengard.  He’s been kind enough to let me have loan of it until I can get a new one.”

“I try to keep a spare with me,” Pippin smiled.

“Seems a sound idea,” Faramir said.

“You should give it a try, Legolas,” Gimli said, with a wink at Aragorn.

All four hobbits leaned in and looked at the elf with anticipation.  “Here, sir, you may borrow mine if you are in the mind to give it a go,” Eomer said, extending his own pipe toward the elf.

“I would not want to take yours,” Legolas said.  “You seem to be enjoying it very much.”

“Master Holdwine introduced me to it,” Eomer said with a wave of his arm in Merry’s direction.  “He and my uncle had planned to discuss the virtues of pipe weed, but sadly did not get the chance.”  Eomer and Merry both became very quite suddenly at the mention of King Theoden. 

“I am very sure that the King would have enjoyed it very much,” Aragorn said, putting a firm hand on Merry’s and smiling reassuringly at the hobbit.  He then looked over at Legolas and smiled.  “I have an extra pipe right here if you would like to join us, Legolas.”

“It would seem that Pippin isn’t the only one who carries a spare,” Gandalf chuckled eyeing Legolas with mirth.

Legolas realized that there could be no escaping this in a graceful manner.  It was often so when dealing with mortals.  “I will try this for the experience,” he said, extending a hand to accept the pipe from Aragorn as all four hobbits grinned and leaned in closer still while the wizard chuckled a bit more.

“Here, Legolas, let me put some Old Toby in it for you,” Merry offered producing the small leather pouch again and reaching for the pipe.

Legolas steeled himself as he watched Merry skillfully fill the pipe and light it for him.  Merry then extended the pipe to him with barely controlled excitement.  Pippin had moved from his seat and was now standing right beside of Legolas and fidgeting. 

“Go slow at first, or you’ll likely be a bit sick, “ Sam said, helpfully.

“And don’t inhale too deeply,” Frodo advised.

Legolas looked over at Pippin who was practically in his lap and asked, “Do you also have advice for me?”

“Try very hard not to set anything on fire,” Pippin said, softly. 

“Sound advice,” Legolas said, wondering what was behind that bit of information.  He then brought the pipe to his lips and took a rather careful puff thinking that he’d actually been smoking from the time he’d entered the room.  The smoke burned the back of his throat and as he blew it out he was relieved to see it go.  He felt as if he were exhaling some dreadful gas.  It was like having a campfire set ablaze in one’s mouth. 

Gimli squinted at him and asked, “Well, how do you like it?”

Legolas let out a small cough and frowned, “I think I prefer the outdoors and the clear night air to all of this smoke.  Would that these pipes of yours were the musical kind.  Now that would be very enjoyable.  I would welcome the sound of eleven well-played pipes just now rather than eleven well-smoked pipes.”

“We get as much pleasure from this as you do from music, my friend,” Aragorn smiled, taking the pipe back.

“Then you are all very happy indeed,” Legolas said, and stood to go.  Fresh air was needed and he would leave these particular pipes to those that enjoyed them. 

The End

G.W.     01/05/2005

Twelve Drummers Drumming #12

Title:  To Herald Our Coming
Fandom:  Lord of The Rings
Characters:  Gothmog
Rating:  G
Brief Summary:  As the armies of the Dark Lord approach Minas Tirith, Gothmog delights in what he believes will be victory.  Movie based.

Just a very quick thank you to Magickalmolly for setting up this interesting and enjoyable challenge.  I have had a very good time doing this!  Great fun!  (seriously hard)  But great fun!  Thanks!

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                          To Herald Our Coming

It is our time now.  We are the ones that they have looked upon as
inferior.  They shun us and turn away.  They would kill us for little or
no reason at all.  Already they begin to see our might.  Osgiliath is ours.
We have taken it and we will take much more.  Even now, we prepare to
march on their great, White City.

I ride among my troops and I see their eyes.  They are proud and they hold
their heads high.  They are ready for what will come.  They are not a
bunch of cowardly goblins on a raid in the dead of the night.  They are an army
that can travel in sunlight and move with speed.  They are trained to
fight and more than ready to kill.  Thousands will feel the sting of their
blades and die at their hands and I will lead them into battle.

I am Gothmog and I take my orders from the Witch King.  I am second only to
him.  The others see me and they move to do as I command because they know that I
am a great general.  I am entrusted to lead them into this battle just as
I did at Osgiliath where we left none alive save one and he was only barely
alive.  His slow death inside of their fine city will serve as a portent at
things to come.  All of them will either die or become slaves to the Great
Eye.

As we near the city's walls with our army, I hear the drums like a
rumbling thunder behind me.  We announce our coming.  We do not fear them
nor do we fear their white wizard.  My commander will see to the White Wizard. 
He will not trouble us.  He will fall at the feet of the Witch King of Angmar and cower
in the dust like the dog that he is.  Then he will die horribly and these
fools inside of this fortress of a city will be left to face us on their
own.

I see them in their armor on the battlements on the city before us but I
do not fear them.  I have killed many of their kind before.  I will enjoy
taking their lives and tasting of their flesh with my army.  I will not
simply lead.  I will be the first one to rush to meet the enemy.  The
drums signal our coming; my coming.  I pass one of the great trolls that march
among us pounding one of the enormous drums as I ride to the front of the
line on my warg. 

 The troll is a stupid beast, much like my own mount.  If
not chained and beaten, the troll cannot follow orders.  The great beast
has no intelligence.  We will use him and others of his kind as we see fit
and they will obey us. I could kill him as I pass, but he also serve the great eye.

His presence among us shows our power.  We control this mighty giant and hundreds like
him.  I can see these lumbering hulking creatures slowly plodding among us
with their great drums.  To control such as these is not difficult for the
great eye.  They sound our charge with their twelve massive drums and they will push our
towers and they will fight by our side.

At the end of this day, I shall stand on the top level of this city of men and declare it ours!  But now, we attack for I hear the drums.

The End

G.W.     01/06/2005

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This one finished off the song and was my first attempt to write for an Orc.  Thanks to all who read at the challenge site and all who read here.