A/N: Written for Shirebound's birthday. Warning: Loads of fluff :)

Dawn at Cormallen

The first pale light of the dawn glinted overhead, filtering through the leaves and falling gently on the four curly heads nestled together amongst the pillows. Two cots had been pushed together and piled high with cushions and blankets, making a bed large and comfortable enough for four hobbits to share.

On the left was Merry, sound asleep, with his right arm slung over Pippin's waist and his hand, still chilled at times, clasped tightly in Frodo's uninjured one. Between his cousins Pippin had fallen into a peaceful slumber, one of the first since he had been injured that was unaided by a sleeping draught. His bandaged hand rested lightly on Merry's arm and his other hand drifted toward the blankets, wanting to pull them up but unable to reach.

Both Gandalf and Gimli, who sat on either side of the bed, moved to assist but even in his sleep Sam sensed help was needed. Without waking he tugged the blanket up and over his sleeping companions and himself. Then he settled his arm around Frodo once more, his hand folding lightly but protectively over Frodo's injured one.

Gandalf laughed and shook his head and Gimli settled back in his chair with a fond harrumph. They gazed at the row of hobbits between them, sleeping in the order that had become a familiar sight during the long weeks upon the road. Gandalf knew it would change when the time came for the hobbits to journey home; by then Merry and Pippin would be fully healed and wanting to look after Frodo and Sam themselves. But for now, while all four hobbits recovered from their hurts, slipping into an old habit was a comfort for them.

In a nearby tree a bird began to sing, announcing the arrival of Aragorn and Legolas. More supply wains had arrived in the night, and packed among the rolls of fresh bandages, stacks of folded linens and crates of food were several items sent specifically for the hobbits. News that the four pheriannath, three newly wounded and one still healing from an older injury, were recovering at Cormallen had spread throughout Minas Tirith, and Faramir had been nearly overwhelmed with gifts and other items meant for the hobbits.

From the dozens of small nightshirts, some embroidered with gold and silver thread, he had chosen the best to send to the hobbits; the rest would be donated to the orphans and poorest children of the City. Legolas carried a stack of those nightshirts now, along with several warm quilts, also gifts from the people of Minas Tirith. Aragorn carried in one hand a small crate of soaps, lotions and ointments that the Healers had sent, knowing these would be gentle enough for the hobbits to use and would not irritate their injuries. In his other hand the king carried a large basket lined with a bright green cloth. Gimli slipped from his chair to peer inside.

"Aragorn, what-" he began but the king shook his head and held a finger to his lips. In the bed Frodo briefly stirred, but did not wake.

"What do you intend to do with those?" Gimli demanded, this time in a whisper.

Aragorn smiled and set the basket on the bed. "They arrived with the wains along with a note from Faramir. These are his gifts for the hobbits. He thinks they will soothe and amuse our friends as they recover, and I agree."

"As do I," Gandalf said, his eyes twinkling merrily. "The hobbits need more healing than bandages and slings can offer, Gimli. I imagine that these will be a great source of comfort for them."

"Hmmph," Gimli grumbled, though he could not help but smile as he peeked inside the basket once more.

Four puppies, golden in color, were frolicking around inside. They stood on their hind legs, and with their front paws they batted the sides of the basket, pushing it to and fro before it finally tipped over.

The puppies tumbled out, landing on the blankets, and immediately stood, glancing around at their new surroundings. They curiously studied the hobbits, walking across the bed and sniffing around their legs until they came to a decision. Then they separated and scampered up the bed, each one settling down beside the hobbit of its choice.

One puppy wedged itself in the crook of Merry's elbow, another stretched out across Pippin's stomach, a third settled into the space between Frodo's arm and his chest, and the last curled up neatly at Sam's back. Soon their eyes slipped shut and they dozed alongside the hobbits.

Gandalf and Gimli crept away to find breakfast and rest after a long night of keeping watch over their friends, and Aragorn and Legolas claimed their seats, settling in to look after the hobbits as the sun rose higher in the sky.

A/N: Initially I didn't expect to write a sequel for this, but Shirebound gave me a bunny and I just had to write it. There may be more eventually, I have a few other ideas to explore :)

Springtime in Ithilien

A tiny golden puppy ran past, pursued by Merry. Next came Frodo and Sam, walking side-by-side and trailed by another pair of puppies. At the end of the small procession was Pippin, flanked on either side by Gandalf and Aragorn, and with his own puppy scampering at his feet.

“Frodo’s is called Toffee,” Pippin was saying, “and Sam’s is Tater. Isn’t it wonderful that they’re thinking with their stomachs again? I, of course, was thinking of a more dignified name-”

Laughing, Frodo turned. “You nearly named yours Faramir,” he recalled.

Undaunted by the laughter bubbling around him, Pippin went on. “Well, he did give us the puppies. I thought it would have been a nice way to honor him.” He grinned suddenly. “I suppose I’ll have to settle instead for naming my firstborn after him.”

“A wise decision,” Gandalf agreed, his eyes twinkling merrily. “Which name did you choose at last, Peregrin?”

“Crumpet,” Pippin replied. “I thought it went well with Merry’s.”

“And what is his called?” Aragorn asked.

“Biscuit,” Pippin said. He picked up his pace as his puppy darted ahead. “Oi! Crumpet is too energetic. I can’t keep up with him!”

Gandalf and Aragorn exchanged an amused glance. Somehow they doubted that Pippin lacked the energy to keep up with a puppy, even while bandaged and limping.

They were soon proved correct, as Crumpet raced ahead, spurring Toffee and Tater into action as well. The three puppies managed to keep well out of reach of their hobbits, forcing Frodo, Sam and Pippin to walk more briskly than they had managed recently, and thus bring strength and vigor to their still-healing muscles and bones.

Gandalf and Aragorn continued at their leisurely pace. Neither had any pressing matters to attend to this afternoon, and were content to join the hobbits on their planned outing: a visit with those soldiers who had been most grievously wounded. It was the hobbits’ belief that the puppies would bring cheer to these men, and Aragorn had readily supported their compassionate gesture.

“Faramir’s gift has certainly been a success,” he remarked, watching closely as Frodo, Sam and Pippin finally caught up with Merry, and all four hobbits tumbled onto the soft grass, patting and hugging their puppies and laughing breathlessly.

Gandalf smiled. “The puppies have brought the hobbits comfort and joy, and helped them to forget their hurts. Indeed there could not be a greater gift.”

“Since the puppies have arrived none of the hobbits have had nightmares,” Aragorn noted. He smiled. “Merry tells me that Biscuit even keeps his arm warm at night.”

Their conversation was interrupted by insistent barking, followed by a peal of laughter. They peered ahead, watching the puppies frolicking in the grass, tails wagging as they competed for the hobbits’ attention. It was the sight of four happy hobbits, however, that made Gandalf and Aragorn laugh.

A/N: Thank you to Dana for looking this over and thank you to Shirebound for the first two sentences and subsequent plot bunny they caused :)

An Afternoon Visit

The injured Man awoke to a startling sight. Of all the unusual things he had seen during the War, and here at Cormallen, a tiny pup sleeping on his chest had to be the strangest. The puppy stirred slightly, snuffling in its sleep, before burrowing deeper into the Man’s nightshirt. The Man watched it curiously before a strange-accented voice called his attention away.

“Hullo.” With surprise the man noticed the perian perched on his bed, his legs, one of them bandaged, dangling over the edge. It was the young halfling who had marched with the Men to the Black Gate. Now he smiled and greeted the Man in the manner of the people of Gondor.

“I’m Pippin, and that lazy pup is Crumpet,” he said, giving it a good-natured pat. It woke with a yawn and scampered over the blankets to Pippin, its tail wagging happily. “Your name is Telemnar, isn’t it? I remember seeing you before the battle. I’m sorry that you were so badly injured.”

Telemnar nodded, still looking at Pippin in amazement. “I too remember you from the battle. A great hill-troll fell upon you. Were you not terribly wounded?”

“Oh, I was, a bit,” Pippin replied with a wry grin. “But I was very lucky that my friend Gimli found me when he did. I’m better now, and so are Frodo and Sam and Merry. Strider – er, the King – says that it’s very lucky that hobbits heal so quickly, or all four of us would have still been abed.”

Telemnar glanced up and saw that three more hobbits, along with the King and Mithrandir, were visiting the other injured soldiers. Pippin pointed out each one in turn to Telemnar: Merry, who spoke with one of the Rohirrim who had lost an arm; Sam, who sat with an older Man wearing an eye patch; and Frodo, who sat beside a young soldier from Gondor who had lain unconscious since the battle. The Ringbearer gently stroked his forehead, but the young man did not stir.

Telemnar, who had broken both legs in the battle and who had spent every day since it ended restless and in pain, suddenly felt very fortunate.

“You see, we know how dreadfully boring it is to have to stay in bed all day,” Pippin said, and Telemnar nearly laughed at the grimace upon the hobbit’s face, though he could see that Pippin truly did understand. “We thought it would be nice to pay you a visit. Time passes more quickly when you spend it with friends.” He smiled brightly and scooped up Crumpet, who yipped as Pippin handed him to Telemnar.

Looking from the small, furry bundle in his hand to the cheerful hobbit beside him, Telemnar smiled. “Yes, it does,” he agreed, and scratched the puppy behind its ears.

With its tail wagging happily, Crumpet licked at his hand.