OK, I hope this fic is a tad more successful than the others. I know the
idea has been used TONS of times but I felt compelled to write this when
sitting in maths wondering what drying paint looks like, when I suddenly
though 'what would the Fellowship do if they were here?' and so, this fic
is born. Also, I like these fics, and have been searching high and low for
one that doesn't make my Gims out to be a complete and utter prat.
Also, there will be mild romance- I felt sorry for Gimli so who knows who'll turn up for him soon? Dum dum duuuuum.....
I use the English methods of grades (i.e. year 7-11). And I have decided to use boarding school since this will make it a hell of a lot easier and a hell of a lot more fun to write. Also, all you rebels out there, I am NOT a rebel at school, so I'm afraid any rebellius students will be written from how I see them. I'm also afraid of any rebellious students. Sorry about that, thought I'd make a point.
Disclaimer- I own nothing. Nothing is mine. Nothing mentioned in this fic belongs to me. A few OC's are made up by me but you can use 'em. I don't really care that much.
~~~~~
Pippin stared up at the large building, filled with apprehension. He hated beginning at a new school, especially in the middle of term. And this was the fifth new school he'd been to since year six. Paladin, his father, wanted 'Only the Best' as he put it, for his son. None of the schools Pippin had attended before had been good enough- three public schools, one boarding school and two private schools. Now he was doomed to maybe spend a term or two at this boarding school. Gondor High.
When his parents had been for an interview, Paladin had been certain this was the right school for his lad. The headmaster, Professor Melkor, had been -to Pippin's mind- a little too threatening and dark to have gotten the job fairly. He suspected quite a bit of blackmail was involved for of the super-intendent to secure Professor Melkor's gain of the post of Headmaster.
Taking a deep breath, Pippin walked up the stone steps, and turned the lower down brass handle on the huge oak front doors. He suspected that the stature of the Hobbits and Dwarves had been taken into account when the school was built. That was quite a good start, he supposed.
The hobbit entered the large entrance hall. There wasn't much to be seen. A dusty, moth-eaten red carpet that looked as though it had stepped -in a sense, since carpets are unable to 'step'- straight from the Second Age covered most of the floor. The rest was made of polished oak planks that echoed omniously when you walked over them. Dust seemed to hang in the air as though frozen in time. Right in front of him the entrance hall ran off into a compariably narrow corridor, which branched off in two directions and up a stair case. There were signs clearly labelling where all the subjects were taught.
"Can I help you?" a deep voice scared Pippin out of his wits. He jumped and swung round, with a hand on his chest.
"I'm sorry. Did I startle you?" someone who was obviously a teacher smiled down a him. Well, it could have been a smile. He just seemed to bare his teeth. The man -I suppose you could call him a man- was dressed all in black with a long black cloak velvet rippling across the floor as he stepped closer to Pippin. His voice, although deep, seemed to grate against Pippin's nerves.
"J-j-just a little," Pippin said weakly, "I'm the new student, Peregrin Took. I- I wasn't sure where to- where to go."
"Ah," the 'man' smiled again, "My name is Professor Sauron. I am the deputy headteacher at this school. I also teach History. Welcome to Gondor High."
The welcome sounded almost like a threat.
"Thank you," said Pippin.
~~~~~~~
Merry sighed and grimaced as he checked his rather dog-eared timetable. He groaned. Double history. He didn't know how much more he could cope with the history of the Two Trees. He considered it to be the most boring thing alive -or dead as the case may be- not on this earth. The elves in his group, of course, didn't reflect this view, and so Merry sat next to a dwarf who couldn't care less.
As Merry threaded his way expertly through the crowded corridors, he searched around for Gimli. History lessons were very dull without him, as Gimli was capable of thinking of the most outlandish things to ask, and not burst out laughing. Merry smiled to himself as he remembered the time when Gimli had asked Professor Sauron why trees lost their leaves in winter when it was so cold. The dwarf's view completely perplexed the teacher, and angered a few elves when Gimli pointed out that this must mean that trees were among the most unintelligent forms of life because of this. There was also their first ever history lesson, when Gimli had pretended to be unable to understand a single word of Westron. Professor Sauron had believed him and explained things slowly and simply. Then next lesson Gimli turned up completely fluent and said he was a fast learner. And he had said this all with a straight face.
As Merry entered the classroom, he found Gimli already there. He started over to him, but a hard grip on his shoulder stopped him and spun him round.
"Meriadoc?"
"Yeah?"
"Come with me." Professor Sauron turned and walked briskly out the door. Merry shot a hopless look at Gimli who shrugged and moved up so Faramir could sit next to him.
Merry followed Professor Sauron along a corridor, before finding a young hobbit standing around, fidgeting uncomfortably and seeming very interested in his feet. He had dark brown tousled hair, the sort of colour you would find on newly creosated wood. His eyes were hazel, with rather large iris's that startled people who didn't know him. Merry did know him.
"Pippin!"
Pippin looked up in genuine surprise. The nervous expression on his pale face vanished instantly, replaced by immesurable relief.
"Merry!" this was another reason his father had sent him here. He and Merry's father, Saradoc, were at constant war. If one son did something, the other son had to do it better. When Saradoc proudly proclaimed Merry's excellent tutoring and wonderful exam grades at Gondor High, Paladin was on the case. Pippin had to go there.
"I see you two know each other," Sauron said approvingly, "Brandybuck, you are excused from this double leson to show Peregrin around the school. Do not count on this happening again. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good."
~~~~~~~~
"Frodo! FRODO STOP IIIIIIT!!!!!!"
"I never knew dwarves were ticklish,"
"Ahhhh!!! I HATE IT, I HATE IT! STOP IT YOU BLASTED HOBBIT!!!!"
Frodo grinned and ceased to tickle Gimli to death. Sam sat nearby, tears of laughter streaming down his face. Gimli sat up and glared at the hobbit who sat by innocently. His self-control gradually dissolved into laughter. Gimli struggled to control his facial muscles.
"You shouldn't have stuffed grass down my shirt then!"
"But that was FUNNY!"
"Well so was that!"
"Was not!"
"Was to!"
"Was not!"
"Was to!"
"Was-"
"Um... I hate to interrupt this highly intelectrical* conversation, but I heard there's a new kid in school. Started this morning,"
Gimli, Frodo and Sam both instinctively looked upwards at the towering form of Boromir. The man sat down beside the, dumping his bag onto the floor.
"Really?" Sam queried curiously, "What is he? Or she?"
"He's a hobbit. Merry got sent to look after him. His name's Pippa or summat."
"Weird name for a he-hobbit," Frodo mused to himself.
"Well, it might NOT be Pippa. I did say 'or summat'."
"You always say 'or summat' at least once in every sentence," Gimli pointed out, rolling over onto his stomach from where he had been gazing upwards (actually, if you were a dwarf or hobbit a lot of your time was spent staring upwards. It was very bad for your neck).
Boromir grunted. A sure sign that he had heard but only vaguely understood the phrases you had just uttered. He was not the cleverest of people.
~~~~~~~~
THUNK.
"Bullseye!" Legolas whooped happily, holding his bow over his head triumphantly. Aragorn yawned.
"You always get a bullseye," he pointed out in a bored voice, "Why do you bother about it so much?"
"I don't know. It makes it more... interesting,"
"Only for you," Aragorn muttered. He stood up and stretched out his long arms, "I'm gonna find Éomer. You coming?"
"Nah," Legolas replied, flipping his hair casually over his shoulder, "I'll go find Gimli or someone,"
"You just want to walk through where you KNOW a loada girls hang out!"
"I know. I'm such a tease aren't I?"
Aragorn muttered something under his breath and Legolas smiled. The two strode off in seperate directions. Aragorn made a bee-line for the stables, where he was more-or-less guaranteed to find Éomer. His suspiscions were soon proved correct. Éomer was currently sweeping a dandy brush across the hind-quarters of a large, handsome bay horse.
"Easy, Firefoot," Éomer soothed as the horse fidgeted and stamped a back foot irritably.
"Hey, Éomer,"
"Huh?" the younger boy looked up in surprise, having not heard Aragorn's approach, "Oh, hey Aragorn," he stood up, pushing a strand of dirty blonde hair away from his face, "Did you see the new pony? It's called Fatty Lumpkin,"
"Weird name for a pony," Aragorn conceded, following Éomer over toward one of the loose-boxes with lower-doors.
"Well, he's pretty, uh.... fat," Éomer muttered, grinning slightly.
Aragorn peered over the door. A short brown pony stood fetlock deep in straw, chewing contentedly on a haynet (the actual haynet with the hay inside it). The pony was huge, it's belly protruding visibly on either side of it's hind-quarters.
"I think you ought to put that thing on a diet!"
"He's not a 'thing'," Éomer protested in a hurt voice, "He's wonderful! And besides, we ARE going to put him a diet! Théoden's devising one for him now,"
Théoden was the stable manager and Éomer's uncle. He was getting old now, and going deaf and blind. You often had to shout before he could hear you, and the hobbits and dwarves didn't have a chance in Mordor of being seen by him. And so, Éomer was more-or-less in the process of taking over this job in between his lessons.
~~~~~~~~~~~
"Well, it's not as bad as I thought it would be," Pippin concluded, lying back on his bed, staring at the interesting pattern a spider-web made on the dormitory ceiling.
"I guess not," Merry agreed from his position beside the window, "Some of the kids here are really cool. I'll take you to see them later,"
"Any other Hobbits?" Pippin asked hopefully.
"Yeah, tons. They're all pretty cool, but my best friends in the hobbit category are Frodo and Sam,"
"Who else?"
"Well there's... Legolas, he's an Elf, Aragorn, Boromir and Éomer are Men and Gimli. He's the only dwarf student here,"
"And that's it?"
"Well, there's tons of others, and we all get on with almost everyone, there's Tom Bombadil, tehe school bully and his cronies but apart from that..."
Maybe this school WASN'T so bad.
~~~~~~~~~~
*Intelectrical. A common word at my school used by people who can't pronounce intellectual (like me).
Liked? Review. Hated? Just bugger off. Thanks. Hope you enjoyed!
Also, there will be mild romance- I felt sorry for Gimli so who knows who'll turn up for him soon? Dum dum duuuuum.....
I use the English methods of grades (i.e. year 7-11). And I have decided to use boarding school since this will make it a hell of a lot easier and a hell of a lot more fun to write. Also, all you rebels out there, I am NOT a rebel at school, so I'm afraid any rebellius students will be written from how I see them. I'm also afraid of any rebellious students. Sorry about that, thought I'd make a point.
Disclaimer- I own nothing. Nothing is mine. Nothing mentioned in this fic belongs to me. A few OC's are made up by me but you can use 'em. I don't really care that much.
~~~~~
Pippin stared up at the large building, filled with apprehension. He hated beginning at a new school, especially in the middle of term. And this was the fifth new school he'd been to since year six. Paladin, his father, wanted 'Only the Best' as he put it, for his son. None of the schools Pippin had attended before had been good enough- three public schools, one boarding school and two private schools. Now he was doomed to maybe spend a term or two at this boarding school. Gondor High.
When his parents had been for an interview, Paladin had been certain this was the right school for his lad. The headmaster, Professor Melkor, had been -to Pippin's mind- a little too threatening and dark to have gotten the job fairly. He suspected quite a bit of blackmail was involved for of the super-intendent to secure Professor Melkor's gain of the post of Headmaster.
Taking a deep breath, Pippin walked up the stone steps, and turned the lower down brass handle on the huge oak front doors. He suspected that the stature of the Hobbits and Dwarves had been taken into account when the school was built. That was quite a good start, he supposed.
The hobbit entered the large entrance hall. There wasn't much to be seen. A dusty, moth-eaten red carpet that looked as though it had stepped -in a sense, since carpets are unable to 'step'- straight from the Second Age covered most of the floor. The rest was made of polished oak planks that echoed omniously when you walked over them. Dust seemed to hang in the air as though frozen in time. Right in front of him the entrance hall ran off into a compariably narrow corridor, which branched off in two directions and up a stair case. There were signs clearly labelling where all the subjects were taught.
"Can I help you?" a deep voice scared Pippin out of his wits. He jumped and swung round, with a hand on his chest.
"I'm sorry. Did I startle you?" someone who was obviously a teacher smiled down a him. Well, it could have been a smile. He just seemed to bare his teeth. The man -I suppose you could call him a man- was dressed all in black with a long black cloak velvet rippling across the floor as he stepped closer to Pippin. His voice, although deep, seemed to grate against Pippin's nerves.
"J-j-just a little," Pippin said weakly, "I'm the new student, Peregrin Took. I- I wasn't sure where to- where to go."
"Ah," the 'man' smiled again, "My name is Professor Sauron. I am the deputy headteacher at this school. I also teach History. Welcome to Gondor High."
The welcome sounded almost like a threat.
"Thank you," said Pippin.
~~~~~~~
Merry sighed and grimaced as he checked his rather dog-eared timetable. He groaned. Double history. He didn't know how much more he could cope with the history of the Two Trees. He considered it to be the most boring thing alive -or dead as the case may be- not on this earth. The elves in his group, of course, didn't reflect this view, and so Merry sat next to a dwarf who couldn't care less.
As Merry threaded his way expertly through the crowded corridors, he searched around for Gimli. History lessons were very dull without him, as Gimli was capable of thinking of the most outlandish things to ask, and not burst out laughing. Merry smiled to himself as he remembered the time when Gimli had asked Professor Sauron why trees lost their leaves in winter when it was so cold. The dwarf's view completely perplexed the teacher, and angered a few elves when Gimli pointed out that this must mean that trees were among the most unintelligent forms of life because of this. There was also their first ever history lesson, when Gimli had pretended to be unable to understand a single word of Westron. Professor Sauron had believed him and explained things slowly and simply. Then next lesson Gimli turned up completely fluent and said he was a fast learner. And he had said this all with a straight face.
As Merry entered the classroom, he found Gimli already there. He started over to him, but a hard grip on his shoulder stopped him and spun him round.
"Meriadoc?"
"Yeah?"
"Come with me." Professor Sauron turned and walked briskly out the door. Merry shot a hopless look at Gimli who shrugged and moved up so Faramir could sit next to him.
Merry followed Professor Sauron along a corridor, before finding a young hobbit standing around, fidgeting uncomfortably and seeming very interested in his feet. He had dark brown tousled hair, the sort of colour you would find on newly creosated wood. His eyes were hazel, with rather large iris's that startled people who didn't know him. Merry did know him.
"Pippin!"
Pippin looked up in genuine surprise. The nervous expression on his pale face vanished instantly, replaced by immesurable relief.
"Merry!" this was another reason his father had sent him here. He and Merry's father, Saradoc, were at constant war. If one son did something, the other son had to do it better. When Saradoc proudly proclaimed Merry's excellent tutoring and wonderful exam grades at Gondor High, Paladin was on the case. Pippin had to go there.
"I see you two know each other," Sauron said approvingly, "Brandybuck, you are excused from this double leson to show Peregrin around the school. Do not count on this happening again. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good."
~~~~~~~~
"Frodo! FRODO STOP IIIIIIT!!!!!!"
"I never knew dwarves were ticklish,"
"Ahhhh!!! I HATE IT, I HATE IT! STOP IT YOU BLASTED HOBBIT!!!!"
Frodo grinned and ceased to tickle Gimli to death. Sam sat nearby, tears of laughter streaming down his face. Gimli sat up and glared at the hobbit who sat by innocently. His self-control gradually dissolved into laughter. Gimli struggled to control his facial muscles.
"You shouldn't have stuffed grass down my shirt then!"
"But that was FUNNY!"
"Well so was that!"
"Was not!"
"Was to!"
"Was not!"
"Was to!"
"Was-"
"Um... I hate to interrupt this highly intelectrical* conversation, but I heard there's a new kid in school. Started this morning,"
Gimli, Frodo and Sam both instinctively looked upwards at the towering form of Boromir. The man sat down beside the, dumping his bag onto the floor.
"Really?" Sam queried curiously, "What is he? Or she?"
"He's a hobbit. Merry got sent to look after him. His name's Pippa or summat."
"Weird name for a he-hobbit," Frodo mused to himself.
"Well, it might NOT be Pippa. I did say 'or summat'."
"You always say 'or summat' at least once in every sentence," Gimli pointed out, rolling over onto his stomach from where he had been gazing upwards (actually, if you were a dwarf or hobbit a lot of your time was spent staring upwards. It was very bad for your neck).
Boromir grunted. A sure sign that he had heard but only vaguely understood the phrases you had just uttered. He was not the cleverest of people.
~~~~~~~~
THUNK.
"Bullseye!" Legolas whooped happily, holding his bow over his head triumphantly. Aragorn yawned.
"You always get a bullseye," he pointed out in a bored voice, "Why do you bother about it so much?"
"I don't know. It makes it more... interesting,"
"Only for you," Aragorn muttered. He stood up and stretched out his long arms, "I'm gonna find Éomer. You coming?"
"Nah," Legolas replied, flipping his hair casually over his shoulder, "I'll go find Gimli or someone,"
"You just want to walk through where you KNOW a loada girls hang out!"
"I know. I'm such a tease aren't I?"
Aragorn muttered something under his breath and Legolas smiled. The two strode off in seperate directions. Aragorn made a bee-line for the stables, where he was more-or-less guaranteed to find Éomer. His suspiscions were soon proved correct. Éomer was currently sweeping a dandy brush across the hind-quarters of a large, handsome bay horse.
"Easy, Firefoot," Éomer soothed as the horse fidgeted and stamped a back foot irritably.
"Hey, Éomer,"
"Huh?" the younger boy looked up in surprise, having not heard Aragorn's approach, "Oh, hey Aragorn," he stood up, pushing a strand of dirty blonde hair away from his face, "Did you see the new pony? It's called Fatty Lumpkin,"
"Weird name for a pony," Aragorn conceded, following Éomer over toward one of the loose-boxes with lower-doors.
"Well, he's pretty, uh.... fat," Éomer muttered, grinning slightly.
Aragorn peered over the door. A short brown pony stood fetlock deep in straw, chewing contentedly on a haynet (the actual haynet with the hay inside it). The pony was huge, it's belly protruding visibly on either side of it's hind-quarters.
"I think you ought to put that thing on a diet!"
"He's not a 'thing'," Éomer protested in a hurt voice, "He's wonderful! And besides, we ARE going to put him a diet! Théoden's devising one for him now,"
Théoden was the stable manager and Éomer's uncle. He was getting old now, and going deaf and blind. You often had to shout before he could hear you, and the hobbits and dwarves didn't have a chance in Mordor of being seen by him. And so, Éomer was more-or-less in the process of taking over this job in between his lessons.
~~~~~~~~~~~
"Well, it's not as bad as I thought it would be," Pippin concluded, lying back on his bed, staring at the interesting pattern a spider-web made on the dormitory ceiling.
"I guess not," Merry agreed from his position beside the window, "Some of the kids here are really cool. I'll take you to see them later,"
"Any other Hobbits?" Pippin asked hopefully.
"Yeah, tons. They're all pretty cool, but my best friends in the hobbit category are Frodo and Sam,"
"Who else?"
"Well there's... Legolas, he's an Elf, Aragorn, Boromir and Éomer are Men and Gimli. He's the only dwarf student here,"
"And that's it?"
"Well, there's tons of others, and we all get on with almost everyone, there's Tom Bombadil, tehe school bully and his cronies but apart from that..."
Maybe this school WASN'T so bad.
~~~~~~~~~~
*Intelectrical. A common word at my school used by people who can't pronounce intellectual (like me).
Liked? Review. Hated? Just bugger off. Thanks. Hope you enjoyed!