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Title: Pervinca's Gift Author: Rowan aka Sue DeNimme
If there had ever been a time when she hadn't bossed him, insulted him, or singled him out for her pranks, he couldn't recall it. Truth to tell, he had always given as good as he got, and had even deliberately provoked her a few times -- well, make that several. But today was Pervinca's birthday, and she was now of age. In two days he would leave to help Frodo move. And he might never come back. So he hugged her and said, "I love you, Vinca." And she gave him a handkerchief embroidered with the initials they shared. "Be careful, Pippin," she said. ~end~ Peter Jackson Product Placement Moment #1 Author: Rowan aka Sue DeNimme
(Scene: A room in the Hornburg. After Aragorn has dramatically flung open the doors.) Théoden: A great host, you say? Aragorn: All Isengard is emptied. Théoden: How many? Aragorn: Ten thousand strong at least. Théoden: Ten thousand?! Aragorn: (ominously) It is an army bred for a single purpose: to destroy the world of Men. They will be here by nightfall. But I have good news, my lord. Théoden: I have need of good news. What is it? Aragorn: (cheerfully) I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to Geico. (cue uplifting music) ~the end~ Note: This, of course, is based on a series of Geico car insurance ads that were running in the US a year or so ago. I have no idea if Geico is known outside the US or not, so apologies to anyone who is confused. Title: On the Taste of Medicinal Draughts Author: Rowan aka Sue DeNimme
"I have always wondered," Frodo croaked, "why healers seem to take such pleasure in making their draughts taste as horrible as possible." His fine features twisted into a grimace. Merry shrugged. "It must be because they love hearing their patients moan about it." He watched, amused, as Frodo stuck out his tongue at him, then quickly drained the mug and ate two bites of the buttered bread Merry had brought to take the edge off the taste. "Thank you, Merry dear," Frodo mumbled, sinking into the covers. Merry smiled, and kissed his brow. His beloved cousin was at last on the mend. ~end~
Title: Son of My Heart Author: Sue De Nimme aka Rowan Summary: Bilbo contemplates his adopted heir. Disclaimer: No copyrights were harmed in the making of this fanfic. Note: This is a double drabble, for Shirebound, as her prize for answering my trivia question (and the bonus one as well, hence the length). She wanted something in which Frodo is loved, admired, and/or respected; and the Bilbo-Frodo relationship seems to be my favorite one to write about, so this is what came out. ~ When did it happen? When did what had started as an arrangement born of pure pragmatism -- and desperation -- turn into the best decision I had ever made in my life? When did I first look into those wide, yearning eyes and feel something more than simply a surge of satisfaction at having trumped that pair of sour-faced vultures who call themselves my kin? Of course, I would not have done what I did if I did not believe that I could eventually come to feel for him as a father should. Even though he was exactly what I needed at the time that I needed it, still I would have dismissed the whole idea otherwise. But now I see him, Frodo, as he is. I see eager curiosity and a loving spirit. I see, though he doesn't, the way he has of inspiring devotion in the hearts of those few who can perceive his light. I see his uncertainty and his fears and his foolishness. I see his patience and his kindness and his strength. Is this what all fathers feel, this helpless, fierce love that takes away my breath and almost frightens me with its intensity? I do not know. But I do know that come what may, I have found in him the son of my heart. ~the end~
Summary: At Caradhras, Gandalf overhears an argument between Frodo and Sam. Disclaimer: As always, no copyrights were harmed in the making of this fanfic. Note: This is for mews1945, as her prize for correctly answering my weekly trivia question. Author's LJ at: Sue DeNimme ~ We halt at the foot of Caradhras, weary after our failed attempt to cross the Redhorn Gate. As I smoke and consider our next move, I hear Frodo and Sam arguing. "But sir, you know you feel the cold more since -- " "No, Sam. You need your blanket too, and I will not have you freeze all night because you gave it to me. Now, that's that. Go to sleep." Later, I see Sam stealthily unroll himself and settle his blanket over his slumbering master. Such loving defiance must be rewarded. After Sam too sleeps, I step over and cover them both with my own blanket. ~end~
Title: Peter Jackson Product Placement Moment #2 (Scene: Helm's Deep. Aragorn and Gimli exit the keep through a secret side gate, to attack the orcs who are assailing the main door. They edge around the cliff face and observe the orcs from across a wide gap. Aragorn looks doubtful.) Gimli: Oh, come on. We can take them! Aragorn: It's a long way. Gimli (after a moment's thought): Toss me. Aragorn: What? Gimli: I cannot jump the distance. You'll have to toss me. (He stops Aragorn as the Man reaches for him.) Ehh... Don't tell the Elf. Aragorn: What happens in Helm's Deep stays in Helm's Deep. (He tosses Gimli onto the orcs.) ~end~ Note: Of course, this is modeled on the US commercials for Las Vegas tourism ("What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas").
Title: On That Note ~ "I fear that we shall not all be gathered together ever again." Merry looked around and saw the faces of the others who had heard Gimli's words. He saw Legolas smile sadly as he fingered his bow. He saw Pippin and Sam cast their eyes downward. He saw the looks exchanged between Gandalf and Aragorn, and he saw that Frodo did not look at anyone at all. He picked up the small silver horn that Éowyn had given him, the horn that she had said would set joy in the hearts of his friends. And he blew, loud and clear. ~end~
Title: Between Here and There ~ When first I met them, in the inn, I thought that if fate had decreed that such small, foolish, alarmingly naive creatures should have the fate of Arda placed in their hands, then Arda was doomed. I dreaded having to be the one to ensure they survived the trek to Rivendell. I believed it a miracle that they had made it as far as Bree. But this journey has humbled me. It has taught me that love can give stature that cannot be measured, and that innocence can be the fount of strength. And that courage is indeed found in the most unlikely of places. ~end~
Title: Brother in Arms ~ With steel in our hands and dread in our hearts, together we ride to our fate on the fields of Gondor. How strange, then, that I find my spirit lightened by the holbytlan who shares my saddle. Last night, he confessed to me that he and two others left his land in hopes of protecting a kinsman that they love, who he says was given a perilous errand that he cannot speak of. Now his kin and friends have gone down different paths, far beyond any help or comfort he can give them. Yet he rides in hope still to aid them in whatever small way he can, even if none of them ever live to know it. I think of him, this small one whom none would believe has any place on a battlefield -- no more than would I -- but goes to war nonetheless, following where his heart leads him, because he must. I think of myself, how I forsook my oath to my uncle and king, and am now deceiving my brother and countrymen, looking for death and glory, because a man would not tell me what I wished to hear. And I wonder, which of us is the truer warrior? I will not fail you, Merry of the Shire. ~end~
Title: Sundered ~ Reason tells me that you must be dead and long gone by now. Yet after all this time, my heart still whispers that perhaps you are not. Perhaps in some green field far away, you are tending your crops and bringing your art to those who will learn. If the slow years have taught me anything, they have taught me patience, and hope. Ah, Fimbrethil, Fimbrethil, my Wandlimb, my love! You of the silken hair, of the light step, the slim boughs, and the leaf-green eyes! Will we one day meet again and sing our worlds together once more? ~end~
Title: Enduring ~ Once I was so ill that I was out of my mind. I was hot and cold at the same time, and I heard voices and saw people who weren't there, like my mother and father. That was nothing in comparison to now. I cannot get warm. My arm doesn't work. The worst part is that I am not out of my mind at all. The people I see through the mist are indeed there, and the fear in their beloved faces is horrible. And the voices I hear are real too. Evil voices, telling me that I can have peace and rest if I just give in. I will not. ~end~
Title: Prince of the Halflings ~ "Ernil i Pheriannath?" Frodo inquired as a beaming Pippin turned away from the pastry-seller's cart, with a basket full of tarts, cakes, and pies. "Oh, that's just something they call me here. It means -- " "I know what it means, Pippin. Here, not so fast, lad!" Pippin slowed, belatedly remembering that his cousin's feet were still recovering from Mordor, and they had been at the market for a couple of hours already. "Sorry." Frodo caught up, and took the tart that Pippin offered him. "Are you going to tell me why they're calling you the Prince of the Halflings?" Pippin picked up another tart and bit into it while he pondered his answer. Finally he shrugged. "I'm not sure exactly why, to tell you the truth. It was a notion that some of the people here took into their heads, that's all." "And you didn't encourage that notion in any way, of course." "Of course not!" Pippin managed to look offended and amused at the same time. "I told them and told them I wasn't a prince. But they insisted that I must be one. They were saying I had come out of the north to offer our allegiance to Gondor, and five thousand swords, if you can believe it." Frodo raised his eyebrows. Clearly he could not believe it. "I know!" Pippin nodded vigorously in agreement. "I think maybe it was just that the times were so desperate, they were latching on to every tiny bit of hope they could find." "Even an army of hobbits?" Frodo shook his head, but he was grinning, much to Pippin's relief. "Well, if you think about it, cousin, they weren't far wrong in the end, after all. It was hobbits who saved them, wasn't it? And we didn't even need five thousand swords to do it. Just one silly Baggins." "Oy!" Frodo protested. "If I'm silly, then how silly were the three of you for following me?" A light swat on the back of his head was his reward, and the two of them passed laughing out of the town square. ~end~
Title: Suit Yourself ~ When Merry emerges at last, dressed for the party, Pippin takes one look at the bright yellow and green decorating his middle, and staggers, arms held out in front of him. "Help!" he cries dramatically. "I've gone blind!" "I'll have you know this waistcoat is from the finest material in Mrs. Goold's shop," Merry replies with dignity. Frodo cups a hand to his ear. "What was that? I couldn't hear you over your waistcoat." "You should talk, you great dandy. Really, maroon velvet, Frodo? This is a naming, not a mayoral banquet." Merry lifts his chin, ignores his cousins' snickers, and leads the way. ~end~
Title: Impression ~ As the four little ones emerge, I need no introductions to tell me which is the bearer of the burden. Even were it not for the tales of Bilbo and of Mithrandir, I would know him. Wounded and weary, he would fall if not for his loyal servant. Yet he is like a star, a strong clear light, small but brilliant. A black cloud strives to surround and oppress it, but still the light shines through cracks that the darkness cannot fill. Such a spirit, I have never seen in mortal frame, throughout the long ages. It will not be extinguished, so long as I can protect it. ~end~
Title: Master ~ Before the promises, we hated The Baggins. Now The Baggins is Master. He is also Master to the nasty hobbit, the one who glares at us when Master isn't looking. Nasty hobbit wishes we was gone far away, but nice Master speaks kindly. He knows he needs our help in cold hard lands. Sometimes when Master is feeling the Precious, he looks at us and doesn't see us. But sometimes he looks at us and smiles, and we see a light like the White Face. The light burns us, but we wants it, wants to be near it. Ach, sss, gollum! ~end~
Title: At the Coronation ~ Crowned at last and with Arwen's hand in mine, I approach the four small figures standing on a raised area amid the crowd. They look on me solemnly, and slowly bow. This will not do. Do they not realize that none of us would be standing here if not for them? That the strategies of the great would have come to nothing if not for the courage, love, perseverance, and mercy that these hobbits have shown? I smile. "My friends, you bow to no one," I say. And as they glance up, puzzled, my queen-to-be and I lower ourselves in reverence and gratitude. ~end~
Title: Stubbornness ~ Only when Legolas stops me, speaking urgently, do I notice that Frodo and Sam have fallen behind the rest of us in our weary flight to Lothlórien. I do believe that they would have gone on until they dropped, never saying a word, and we would have reached our goal less one Ring-bearer and one faithful gardener, if not for our Elf. What am I to do with such foolish, if admirable, stoicism? Then -- after some persuasion -- I finally remove Frodo's jacket and tunic, and laugh to find him wearing Bilbo's mithril shirt. Hobbits truly are full of surprises, and this hobbit most especially. ~end~
Title: The Path That Need Chooses ~ As we are about to set off at last from Lothlórien, I see Frodo hesitate, his face unreadable. Then, with that now-familiar squaring of his shoulders, he silently accepts my hand and settles into the boat. Only later do I learn, from Merry, how Frodo's parents died. I had not known before. Frodo had not set foot in a boat since that tragedy. And yet today he simply accepted the necessity of doing so, and did it without a word. Just when I thought that my wonder at the amazing courage of this one small person could grow no further, I find myself mistaken yet again. ~end~
Title: A True Friend ~ Of all the things I expected on this journey, the last was that I would suddenly look at my gardener and see a completely different Sam Gamgee. Has two nights on the road already changed him? Or is this who he has always been, and I never noticed? How did I earn such a companion? I have treated him well enough through the years, I know, but was a smile, a shared meal, an encouraging remark on the flowers really worth this? Does he even know what he is pledging himself to? Or that he might pay for it with his life? Eru, please show me how to deserve him. ~end~
Title: Wheels Within Wheels ~ My lord Manwë: Everything is proceeding according to plan. No one knows about my true nature or my mission. It has been difficult, I must admit: safeguarding Frodo and the Ring, then secretly engineering the entire Quest, while of course letting Elrond and Gandalf think it was their idea. Meanwhile I have been extremely busy, making carefully calculated "mistakes" and asking deceptively stupid questions. Rather ingenious, if I do say so. I think I have the rest of the Fellowship completely convinced that I am nothing but a lovable, bumbling imp, which naturally is what I want them to continue thinking. Though I believe Gandalf is beginning to suspect something. There was a distinct twinkle in his eye when he last called me "Fool of a Took", after I "accidentally" tripped Boromir and caused him to fall into the thorn bush. Well, I must end this communique -- time to complain about the cold food again. I remain, as ever, your devoted servant, Peregrin Took ~end~
Title: Breaking Fast ~ It ain't what we'd have called a meal, back in the Shire -- just broth, bread, and juice. I reckon it ain't even our first since getting rescued, as I weren't hungry when I woke, so they must have fed us somehow while we slept. But it's the first food we've seen awake, other than lembas, for days on days. Mr. Frodo stares at it. "Oh, Sam," he says at last. "It really is over." I know just what he means. We sit with tears in our eyes, looking at it, so beautiful we can't even touch it 'til Gandalf reminds us it's there to eat. ~end~
Title: Faramir's Choice ~ Two Halflings. Samwise, as loyal as any soldier of Gondor, would die for his master, or die if not allowed to follow him; that much is clear. Frodo I find intriguing. He seems weary, fragile and childlike, yet he plays this dance of words well and wisely. I cannot help but admire him even as he evades my attempts to learn his purpose. Suddenly, revealed -- Isildur's Bane! The world goes still. I could take it right now, spare this innocent the doom that surely awaits him, and by so doing seal the doom of my people, and indeed the world. No. I will not. ~end~
Title: Pledge Author: Rowan aka Sue DeNimme ~ They are leaving the next morning, without him. They are going off to fight while he waits and can do nothing. Why? If the Army is defeated, all will be lost anyway, so why not let him go too? But they will not. Just before bed, a surprise visit: Éomer. He takes Merry's hand. "I wished to thank you for saving my sister," the King of Rohan says. "If you had not acted as you did, I would now be without kin in this world. I pledge that I will do my best to see that your kin survive as well." And Merry's throat tightens. ~end~
Title: In Absentia ~ When Frodo stands up to propose his toast, I can all but hear what some of the other guests are thinking. They are thinking that if they must pretend for an evening that old Bilbo still lives, it's a small price to pay for a meal. But I know Frodo, and I know that when he says, "To Bilbo", he truly believes that his uncle is still out there somewhere. Perhaps that thought is what has made this first year on his own bearable for him. So I lift my glass in answer. "To Bilbo -- and Frodo," I say firmly, and drink. Frodo's smile is my reward. ~end~
Title: The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship ~ When Legolas invites me to see something he has found in the woods of Lothlorien, I am puzzled. Why does he wish my company? And even more, why do I grant it? He shows me a grove of blossoming trees, and underneath, a lovely small cave. "I have thought long on the Lady Galadriel's words," he says. "And then I saw this grove and this cave. There is beauty above, and beauty below. Both are part of this world. I thought, how useless that they should be at odds. I cannot speak for my people, Gimli, but for myself, I would be friends." For answer, I give him my hand. ~end~
Title: Elves and Starlight ~ I should be studying, but the sound of voices draws me to the window. Sam is planting as he listens to Bilbo telling him a story of Elves. I smile. Bilbo loves telling Sam stories, for Sam is the best audience. He laughs at the funny parts and weeps at the sad parts. And I know he isn't simply being polite, for I know Sam. He can't hide what he feels, and he feels everything. I have heard the Gaffer telling him to mind only his work. But I think that Sam has a heart big enough both for cabbages and potatoes, and for Elves and starlight. ~end~
Title: In a New Light ~ When Frodo catches me staring, I confess that I was trying to decide what is different about him. Frodo raises an eyebrow. "You mean, aside from being half my normal weight and so covered with scars that I look like a map?" Sighing, I shake my head and drop the subject. But later, when he is asleep, I steal to his bedside. I may be seeing things, but some of the glow seems to be coming not from the moon, but from him. I take his maimed hand in mine. Can it be that the light I have always seen in him is now visible to all? I hope so. ~end~
Title: Boon ~ My lord Mahal, hear the plea of your humble servant, Gimli Glóin's son. Gandalf has gone, and Frodo; and where Frodo is, there is Sam. Mandos has claimed Boromir, and dear Merry and Pippin, and now Aragorn as well. And Legolas is nearly ready to sail. Soon all that is left of the Fellowship on Middle-earth will be one old Dwarf, mumbling into his beard and boring the youngsters with tales of old heroics. I beseech you, Lord, do not let it end like that. Let me be with my friends, if not one way, then the other. ~end~
Title: A Wizard's Plea ~ Ah, Peregrin. Fool of a Took, what have you done this time? Here you lie, quiet at last, and I find myself wishing for the sound of your voice asking endless silly questions. Against all hope, we have prevailed. The Ring is destroyed, Sauron is no more, and Aragorn is King. Yet if Middle-earth is to be deprived of your bright spirit, your mischief, your curiosity, then it seems but a hollow victory. Frodo is alive. You would not wish him, after all he has endured, to wake to the news of your passing, would you? Please get well, you little imp. ~end~
Title: Pony Ride ~ You lowered yourself afore me, your back to me, and while I was puttin' my arms 'bout your neck, you lifted me by the legs. You groaned real loud, like I was heavy as a sack o' stones. I were gigglin' too loud to hear what you said as you took off a-gallopin' up the Hill with me clingin' to your back, pretendin' you were a pony. Reckon I won't never forget how strong you felt then, dark hair ticklin' my nose as I bounced up and down, firm grip of your hands tellin' me I were safe with you. That's one of my best memories, Mr. Frodo. ~end~
Title: What the Wind Blew In ~ Unable to stand one more minute in the house that has become a cage, she bursts onto the battlements and stands breathing the untainted wind that lifts her hair, calms the heaving of her chest, and dries the tears on her cheek. The same wind snatches her uncle's banner from its post as she watches, thinking of how her life, her land, her house, and her people are falling with it, sinking slowly, helplessly, unregarded into the mud of time. Then something bids her lift her eyes, and as she does so, suddenly three horses appear over the hill, bearing hope. ~end~
Title: Reunion ~ Sam! Well, as I live and breathe, it really is you! It is more than good to see you again, it is a miracle! When we parted, I was sure that that was the end for both of us. I am sorry, by the way, that I left you to those horrible snakes. I am so happy you survived! Oh yes, scratch my neck, just there...ah! How is the master? I've been worried for him too. Grass and oats, why are you crying, my friend? Here, I'll nuzzle those tears and dry them for you. We are together once more, and that's all that matters. ~end~
Title: Cleaning ~ Though he thinks of himself as tidy, still Frodo has never enjoyed spring cleaning. Sweat, moving things about only to move them back, smells of soap that make him sneeze almost as much as the dust. But this is different. This will be the last spring cleaning he will share with Bilbo, for his uncle is leaving in the autumn. And so he works without complaint, even when a pile of books slips and falls onto his toes. And he knows he will miss this, but it is not until seventeen years later that he begins to understand just how much. ~end~ Title: On the Way Home ~ It has been a long road home, since parting with our beloved sister. Our hearts have been heavy with the quiet grief of our father, who has spoken to us only to tell us that soon he will take the Straight Path. Yet the presence of four hobbits has undeniably lightened the mood. It is their magic, which they do not know they possess, and that makes it all the stronger. We know that the Ring-bearer understands; we see it in his eyes. Do the others? Do they look at us and see a reflection of their own loss to come? ~end~
Title: Waiting The master told me he was goin', goin' forever, but he wouldn't tell Sam 'til it was time to. Now they're both of 'em gone. Elanor's cryin' 'cause she's hungry. I'm cryin' 'cause I'll miss Mr. Frodo, but I miss my Sam most of all. He loves Mr. Frodo that much, I'm afraid he'll up and leave with him, over the sea, and Elanor and I'll be alone. No, no, 'course he won't, silly, he loves you too! He said so, and he's shown it over and over. I should bide and have faith, but I'm so scared. Sam, please come back. ~end~
Title: Secrets Author: Sue deNimme (aka Rowan) Summary: Pippin discovers how difficult conspiracies can be. Disclaimer: No copyrights were harmed in the making of this fanfic. Note: This is Garnet Took's prize for winning my weekly trivia contest.
This isn't Pippin's first conspiracy.
But this time, it's no bully or know-it-all, but Frodo who is the object: Frodo who is ordinarily no fool, but can't see past his nose when preoccupied. He's making it laughably easy, and it's marvelous.
It all seemed a big lark, until they learned the whole, horrible truth from Sam.
Now, when Pippin catches Frodo gazing at him as if to memorize him, all he wants to do is hug him and tell him everything.
Instead, he tells Frodo to paint his picture, it'll last longer. They laugh.
And Pippin wonders who's fooling who.
~end~
Summary: When the Company reaches the Argonath, Frodo contemplates the image of Isildur. Disclaimer: No copyrights were harmed in the making of this fanfic. Note: My LJ is here ~ A sentinel now you are, standing in ceaseless stony vigil while the birds make nests in your eyelids. Now the thing you took from Him approaches you once more, and you stand dumb and unmoving. Your heir scarcely pauses to gaze upon you as he journeys to correct your long-ago error. The error that sends me now into shadow. Yet I cannot find it in me to fault you. You and I both have been ensnared by the Ring and its story. Now I look on you and all I can think is that you were the fortunate one, for you are free. ~end~ |
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