Why the Fellowship Didn't Bring Tents on the Quest to Destroy the One Ring

By: Bookworm85

"We should set up camp here." Aragorn looked around the area he had chosen. The ground was flat and grassy, and there was a small stream nearby. The trees were far enough back that enemies wouldn't be able to sneak up on them unaware. It was perfect for a campsite. Dawn was peaking out over the horizon, but it was time for bed for the weary companions that had walked through the night. "Bring out the tents. And let's hurry, the weather doesn't look good."

Bill the pony was unloaded, and the Fellowship split up to tend to their duties. Legolas went to scout the land around the camp. Merry helped Gimli collect firewood. Boromir tended to Bill, brushing him down and feeding the animal. That left the others to the most daunting of tasks- setting up the tents.

After laying out the tents, the five stared down at the masses of canvas, string, and wooden stakes that would (hopefully) become shelter from the oncoming storm. "Well, there's no time like the present. Let's start this." Aragorn said, clapping his hands together. The others gave him a 'we're waiting on you to direct us' look. The Man gulped. It wasn't that he didn't know how to put up tents. It was that these tents were a bit more... complicated than the ones he was used to. "Um, Pippin, go to that corner. Frodo, right next to him. Sam, come over here to my left and Gandalf, if you could go to my right. Good. Now, we have to...." He looked around as if waiting for someone to tell him what to do next.

"What about the instructions?" Pippin volunteered.

Aragorn was astonished by the suggestion. "Instructions? Real Men...and Hobbits...and Maiar don't need instructions. What do you think people did before instructions? We'll do this the way our forefathers did it- with courage, intellect, and creativity." He nodded to himself. 'And hopefully without too many splinters.' He added mentally.

"If you say so." Pippin replied dubiously.

"Now, the tallest sticks will probably be in the middle, and the shorter ones on the sides." Aragorn passed out the wooden poles. "That one connects with that one. And that one over there goes with...no, not that one! The longer one by your foot. Yes, and that- Pippin, what are you doing?"

Pippin looked up innocently. "Shouldn't we attach it to the ground first?"

"It's called staking it to the ground, and no, the poles go in first. Trust me, I've done this before." The Man turned to the others. "Now, lift that side, Sam. You too, Frodo. Gandalf, your turn. Good, good... no, wait!" The tent tipped precariously as the much taller Gandalf lifted his end, making it lean towards the Hobbits.

"It's going to crash!" Sam exclaimed. He tackled Frodo and sent them both rolling out of the way just seconds before the tent collapsed where they had been.

Frodo looked in amazement at the crumpled heap of canvas and poles. "You saved my life, Sam!" Sam blushed and mumbled that it was nothing.

"On your feet, people! We have 15 minutes until the storm is upon us, and I for one would prefer to be under some sort of shelter when that happens. Let's start again. Everyone at your corners? Good. Now on three, everyone is going to lift it. One, two, th-"

He was cut off as Gimli approached and called out, "Aren't you done with that yet?" He was answered with a glare from Aragorn.

"This is more difficult than it appears, Master Dwarf." He replied testily. "Perhaps if you would help instead of criticizing, it would get done sooner."

Gimli surveyed the area with a critical eye. "Shouldn't it be pinned down first?"

"It's called staking it down, and no, the poles go in first." He said through gritted teeth. "I know what I'm doing." He turned to Gandalf. "Are the poles still connected correctly? Fine. Pippin, could you check your end? Now the poles need to be lifted up and put in the ground right in front of you. On three. One, two-" Once again he was interrupted.

"I finished with the fire. What do you want me to do now, Master Dwarf?" Merry asked. Then he blinked. "Aren't you done setting up at least one of the tents yet?"

A vein throbbed in Aragorn's neck. "If you could help us, Master Hobbit, maybe it would go faster."

"What should I do?" He asked.

"Get the instructions." Pippin said helpfully. "I think we could use it."

"We. Do. Not. Need. Instructions. I will instruct you. I am your instructions. Everyone to your corner!" He rubbed his head. Aragorn wondered briefly if he had packed something for headaches. He looked up to see that everyone was staring expectantly at him. "Gimli, help Frodo, and Merry will help Pippin. Are the poles all attached? Everyone lift. Gandalf, please, do it gently. We don't want to squash the Hobbits."

"No, we don't." Merry muttered at the same time that Gimli said, "Or the Dwarf." The tent was now set up properly, except for the small fact that it was hovering three inches above the ground.

"Gandalf, stick your pole in the ground right in front of you. Now, Frodo and Gimli. Good, we're getting this. Merry, Pippin, and Sam, go ahead." The tent was looked magnificent, even though it was leaning a little to the left. "Maybe we should adjust it so it doesn't collapse in the middle of the nigh- er, day. " He looked up at the brightening sky. It was odd camping in the middle of the day. "We need to move it to the left, alright?"

"Move it right?" Pippin asked. He had only heard the end of the sentence since the canvas muffled the Man's voice.

"No, I said move it to the left!"

"Right." The Hobbit replied.

"I said LEFT!" The Man said louder.

"Fine. Good. I'm agreeing. Right, I'm moving it left."

"He said move it left, you foolish Hobbit!" Gandalf thundered, only hearing part of what Pippin had said.

"Pippin has it right, er, left...He's moving it in direction... which is left." Aragorn rubbed his head again. He really hoped he had remembered something for headaches.

Just then, Legolas walked up. "Boromir's keeping watch." He said, answering the unspoken question. "The tent's not up?" There was a mischievous glint in his eye.

Aragorn closed his eyes. 'Count to ten.' He thought sternly. 'Do not blow up at him....do not yell. Breathe. One. Two. Three. Fo-'

"I don't know much about setting up tents since Elves don't need them," he managed to not sound too smug about this, "but aren't you supposed to stake it down first?"

"That does it! Everyone is criticizing the way I do this. If you can do better, why don't you lead us in putting up the tent?" Aragorn yelled.

Legolas gave the Man an odd look. 'What is with Men and not being able to accept help?' He shrugged and picked up a crumpled piece of parchment from off the ground- the directions. "It says, 'first, stake down the corners.' Pippin tried not to smile, failed, and quickly moved out of Aragorn's reach. " 'Then, connect the poles. The ones with the red marks go on the right side, the green ones are on the left side, and the white ones are in the middle.' "

"Right facing which way?" Sam asked.

Legolas consulted the directions. "Right and left when you face the front."

The tent was attached/ pinned/ staked down. The poles were disassembled and reassembled correctly. And the tent was raised and managed to stand without looking like it would collapse at any moment. The fellowship stood back to admire their work, except for Aragorn who just glowered. Boromir returned to announce that the area was clear. "And if we're going to eat, we'd best do it soon. The storm could come at any-" He was cut off by a loud thunderclap. Nine heads turned to look up at the darkened sky.

"We still have two more tents to set up." Aragorn said, glaring at the rain-laden clouds. There was another clap of thunder, and then the skies opened. The fellowship scrambled into the tent, which, thanks to a small piece of paper, Pippin's intuition, and Legolas' ability to usurp the leadership from Aragorn, stood strong against the elements. The nine companions spent the night in the cramped quarters of the tent, only sleeping a few at a time since there wasn't much room to lie down.

"At least we don't have to worry about the sun keeping us up." Pippin said, ever the optimist.

"No, instead we have the storm to keep us awake." Merry said wearily. Usually, he could sleep through anything, but he wasn't entirely trusting of the thin shelter that was protecting them.

It was a long day. The rain only showed signs of stopping once, and that lasted long enough for Aragorn and Gandalf to step out briefly. As soon as they were fully out of the shelter, the rain started pouring again, drenching the two. The soggy clothes did nothing to improve the Man's mood. The sun finally peeked out in time to give them a glorious sunset. The tired companions sighed and gathered their things so they could continue their journey. Taking down the tent wasn't as hard as putting it up, a fact for which everyone was grateful. Fifteen minutes later, the fellowship was ready to be on its way.

"I have something to say." Sam said suddenly. "I think that tents are more trouble than they're worth."

"I second that." Frodo and Merry said at the same time.

Gandalf nodded. He had been squeezed in the corner, and the pole was poking him in the back all day. "I'd prefer sleeping in a cave to that thing."

"I agree." Gimli was quick to say.

Aragorn grumbled. "Well, then, why don't we just leave them here, if everyone hates them so much?"

Everyone looked at him. "That's a great idea!" Pippin chirped. Seven heads nodded in agreement. Aragorn rolled his eyes skyward and mouthed 'Why me?'

And so the tents were discarded. They stayed there for many months, until some travelers happened by and decided that perfectly good tents shouldn't go to waste. They hastily gathered them up and packed them with their other belongings. The travelers continued their way, not noticing that a small piece of parchment titled 'How to set up a tent' had fluttered to the ground.