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Maybe it's the Accent  by shirebound

*Trouble Brewing * (written for the Livejournal Wee!Hobbits “Crawling Babies” Challenge)


“Merry,” Frodo said knowingly, “you don’t have to watch him that closely. He’ll just crawl a little way off, then settle down. Babies don’t like to go far from where they feel safe.”

“This one’s different,” Merry informed his cousin seriously.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You never crawled farther than you could see one of us.”

“Watch,” Merry said. He went to the bedroom door and opened it, then came back to sit on the bed next to Frodo. Pippin, who had been contentedly playing on the thick rug, immediately began crawling toward the door. He reached it, turned right, and kept going. Alarmed, Frodo leaped to his feet and raced into the corridor with Merry just behind him. The baby was happily crawling away, never once looking back to see if his cousins were still there.

“They’re not supposed to do that,” Frodo frowned. He dashed forward and scooped up Pippin.

“This one’s different,” Merry said again. “You’ll see.”

“Is there any way to keep him from walking?”

“I don’t think so,” Merry said, catching hold of a tiny foot. Pippin laughed and wriggled. “I think we’re in trouble.”

Frodo held the baby in his arms and peered into Pippin’s green, sparkling eyes. Tookish spirit and mischief peered back.

“I agree,” Frodo sighed.





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