A slightly different fate
By sazza-da-vampire
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never was, never will be.
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Ch1: The Sack
Pippin wasn't happy. Not happy AT ALL.
Unfortunately, there wasn't much he could do about it, tied in a sack as he was, being hauled back to the Shire by an altogether too cheerful Elf.
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Legolas heaved the surprisingly weighty sack up over his shoulder again. Who knew that hobbits would be this heavy? Shouldn't something that small be lighter?
Looking over to Lindir, Legolas wasn't happy to see the other Elf smiling and walking jauntily along, earning a glare from Legolas.
"Can't we just let him walk and tell Lord Elrond that we dragged him to the Shire in the sack?" Legolas asked, hoping that Lindir had enough guts to disobey a direct order from his Lord.
He didn't.
"Three reasons," Lindir replied, smiling broadly at the struggling Elf, "One; he would just run back to Rivendell and follow Frodo. Two; he really isn't that heavy."
"And three?" Legolas asked, wincing from pain as his burden began pummelling his back with his tiny fists through the sack.
"Three, we've only been gone for three hours!"
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Pippin jabbed his unfortunate bearer in the back with his elbow again. He was being treated like a prisoner! Only three days ago he had been planning to follow Frodo to Mount Doom, but now he was spending his days tied in a sack (which had a fine coating of flour on the inside) over some unfortunate Elf's shoulder, and his nights tied to a tree under the watchful guard of two grumpy Elves.
Pippin had long given up trying to reason with the Elves – who had been threatened that if the young hobbit was found in Rivendell or even any area east of Bree that the Elves would face severe consequences up to and including being sent back to the Shire to guard Peregrin day and night in the Shire itself. Rather than entertain himself with trying to get the Elves to let him walk, Pippin had taken up consciously jabbing and poking the Elf, to ensure that he had a miserable time of it as well.
All he wanted was to get home, but all that he dreaded was the arrival – were these Elves going to just drop them at the borders of the Shire? Somehow Pippin doubted that, for he would simply turn East again. So what would they do? Drop him on his front doorstep?
Pippin resolved to never let the Elves find out where his front door was, for he wouldn't put it past these cruel Elves to actually dump him on his backside in front of not only his family, but all of Hobbiton.
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Two weeks of unchanging misery later, the two Elves requested lodging at the Prancing Pony, and received many odd stares due to their squirming sack. Lindir and Legolas did not frequent the area, as Lindir usually stayed in or around Rivendell and Legolas was from Mirkwood, but they had been directed to the Prancing Pony by Rangers on their way west. The barman (by the name of Barliman Butterbur) was polite enough to accept the Elves' story of needing extra bedding – something about Elves being rather delicate in Butterbur's opinion – for the Elves actually weren't hard-hearted, and intended for the hobbit to have at least one decent night's sleep.
Although Pippin was still tied to his bed, and was never let out of the Elves' sight, he did get some rest and left Bree (in his sack) feeling less hard-done-by than he had felt for weeks.
Unfortunately for Legolas and Lindir especially (who was currently carrying their burden), this feeling of goodwill didn't last more than half an hour.
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Lindir had forced the location of Pippin's home from the hobbit shortly after leaving Bree. With this knowledge, the two Elves were busily planning their entrance to the Shire – they thought that the most fun way to come would be proudly bearing the sacks and proclaiming them a delivery to Tuchborough's Thain– before promptly dropping the hobbit on the floor in front of as many people as possible.
Of course, the hobbit wasn't to know of the plan, for the Elves spoke only in Sindarin, which Pippin could make neither head nor tail of.
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A week later, Pippin sat on the grass in the town centre of Tuckborough, gazing up at the crowd, most of whom were open mouthed at the audacity of the two elves.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" Pippin cringed away from his mother's anger, as he hadn't even told her that he was off adventuring when he'd left two months ago with Frodo, Sam and Merry.
It was Legolas who explained, for in the face of any angry hobbit woman, few people retain the capability of coherent speech. Fortunately, he had been raised by a King with a fabulous temper.
"Lady Took, I apologise for the manner of this child's return, for he set conditions for his return home from Imladris, that which you call Rivendell. Peregrin flat out told the Lord of Imladris that he would either be going on an expedition to the very land of Mordor itself with few other companions, or he would have to be sent home in a sack. As can be seen, he had to be sent home, for the Black Land is far too perilous for any young hobbit.
"In order for us to officially deliver your child, we'll have to get you to sign the delivery form," Legolas contined, taking a crumpled (blank) parchment from his belt pouch and putting on the air of a delivery boy from Laketown. "And then we can be on our way. We also come to deliver a message with your package, make sure that no hobbits leave the Shire in the days to come, and let no stranger into the Shire, for dark times lay ahead for all."
With that pronouncement, Lindir and Legolas left Brandy Hall to a deafening silence, shattered only by an explosion of Pippin's mother asking what the troublesome tween had been doing for that past two months, why he'd been in Rivendell and why he had brought impending doom with him when he came home!