Title:
Hobbits in the Wood
Author: AngieT
Thanks: Maura for betaing,
Teresa for the idea, and Liza for letting me hold KnittedMerry whilst
Marigold laughed over it.
Summary: Pre-quest, silly, fairy tale
rip-off (gen).
Frodo sighed as he viewed the sad remains of his once well-stocked larder shelves. It was a pitiful thing to be so reduced. Cured meats, pies, fruit and vegetables, cakes and tarts – all that remained were a couple of cheeses and a half jar of preserves, and they would not last beyond tea time.
"Sam!" Frodo called.
Sam appeared from the third pantry and Frodo could tell by the look on his face that the story was not much better in there. "Can you round up a couple of lads to help you go to market?"
Sam frowned but nodded.
"While you're gone I can start on some baking."
Sam's disapproval was heavy in the air.
"I know," said Frodo. "Those two are eating me out of smial and home. I don't know where they put it all."
"That's not all," Sam reported. "I checked the cellars. You're going to need some more ale soon and there's only enough pipe weed left for one evening's smoke."
"What!" Frodo exploded. "Oh really, that is the limit. Yet if I don't have enough for them for after supper they will look at me like I turned into Lobelia."
"Maybe they could take a trip to the Green Dragon," Sam suggested.
"Yes, and then keep on going," Frodo muttered darkly. "I should take them on a picnic tomorrow and abandon them in the old forest. I can't afford to keep on feeding them."
Pippin, who had been listening in the corridor stayed for no more. He bolted off to find Merry and warn him that cousin Frodo was on the rampage.
By second breakfast Frodo and his visiting cousins were filling up the corners when Sam arrived at the kitchen door.
"Beg pardon, Mr Frodo," said Sam. "But if you were wanting to go on a picnic, 'tis a lovely day. I can pack you up a basket if you'd like."
"An excellent idea, Sam," said Merry, leaning back in his chair and patting his stomach. "Nothing like fresh air to work up an appetite." None of them noticed that Pippin had gone a little pale.
It was a lovely day. The sun was shining and the birds were singing. Frodo had a couple of old rugs thrown over his shoulders. Pippin was swinging a milk churn with too much enthusiasm and Merry carried a sack of apples. Sam came along with the group to carry the picnic baskets.
They made their way deep into the woodlands until they found a lovely glade full of daisies, bluebells and bright sunshine. Sam spread out the picnic rugs and the gentlehobbits sat down to lunch.
Before long the food was gone and Merry was yawning and stretching and showing every signs of wanting a nap. Pippin had relaxed somewhat with the aid of several of Bell Gamgee's excellent blackcurrant tarts and was leaning back against a tree trunk.
"I want to wash up a bit," said Frodo. "Sam, is there a river near by?"
"Aye, sir," Said Sam. "Let me show you the way."
"We won't be long," Frodo told his cousins and Merry lazily waved him on his way his eyes already closed.
Pippin slumped further back against his tree trunk and was soon regaled with the noise of Merry snoring. After a while he closed his eyes too, just to rest them for a bit.
Pippin woke up with a start and sat bolt upright. It was twilight in the forest around then, and growing quite chill.
"Merry!" the younger hobbit cried out. "Merry, wake up."
"What is it," grumbled Merry. "I was having a lovely dream."
"It's Frodo," Pippin shook his elder cousin. "He's gone off and left us. He said he would."
"What ever are you talking about?" Merry asked.
"He was fed up with us eating all his food and he has abandoned us in the forest."
"Don't be ridiculous," Merry reproached. "Why would Frodo do that? Any anyway, we are not a couple of children to be abandoned in the wood by their wicked cousin. We just have to walk back to Bag End and demand to know what Frodo means by going off without us."
"But which way was is it?" Pippin protested.
"That way," Merry pointed.
"Are you sure?" Pippin calmed a little.
"Of course I'm sure," Merry stood up and straightened his waistcoat. "Come on, we don't want to miss supper." and he started off.
They had gone for about an hour before Pippin's trust in Merry once more started to waver. "Are you sure this is the way?" asked the younger hobbit.
"Yes," replied Merry, but he did not sound so sure as he had earlier. "I have a very good sense of direction."
After another hour they both knew they were lost and even Merry had given up denying it. He plunked himself down on a tree trunk and put his head in his hands.
"We're lost aren't we?" asked Pip in a small voice. It was now quite dark.
"Yes, Pip," said Merry. "Quite lost."
"No supper," said Pip.
"No Pip, no supper."
"But I can smell something," Pippin lifted his sharp little Took nose and sniffed. "I can smell… gingerbread."
Merry perked up. He stood back up. "I think you're right. Come on, this way."
And they were off again. Merry was pretty sure he had never been this way before; the woods were dark and thick here. Moonlight made enough of a way through to light their path. But someone must live here, for the smell of gingerbread grew stronger.
At last they came out into another glade, larger than the picnic one, and in the centre of it stood a curious little cottage. Smoke was coming from the chimney and a light shone out from two small square windows at the front.
The two young hobbits made their way briskly up to the front door and Merry was just about to raise his hand to knock when Pippin's startled cry stopped him.
"What is it now?" he asked, turning to his cousin.
Pippin was looking closely at the little porch over the doorway and .. sniffing it. As Merry watched Pippin reached out to touch the bit of roof just overhead, and broke a chunk of it off in his hand.
"Pippin!" said Merry aghast.
Pippin put the piece of broken roof to his mouth and took a bite of it. The puzzled look on his face changed to a big grin. "It's gingerbread!" he said.
"Don't be silly," said Merry. "Houses aren't made of gingerbread."
Pippin leant over and took a bit out of the brickwork. "And seedcake!"
"Now you're just being silly," said Merry crossly and to demonstrate he reached out for one of the window ledges, and a piece of it came away stickily in his hand. "Marzipan. ." he voice trained off.
"It's delicious," reported Pippin with his mouth full. He leant over and licked the window. "Sugar cane."
"You must be dreaming," said Merry and reached over to pinch Pippin.
"Ouch! What did you do that for?" Pippin protested.
"I wanted to wake you up."
"Well, you must be dreaming too," said Pippin and pinched Merry even harder.
"Ow!" Merry shoved Pippin and Pippin staggered backwards landing with a squish in a flowerbed. "Marshmallows!" Pippin said in delight as he ate a daffodil. And the two hungry hobbits set to with a will, laughing all the while. Merry was just chewing up the door knocker, which was made of licorice, and Pippin was eating a brandy-snap flowerpot when all of a sudden the door popped open and an orc in a flowered dress, apron and bonnet pocked its head out of the door.
"Oy, what da ya think yer doin'?" the orc asked.
Merry spluttered. "Oh, I am so sorry. We did not realise any one lived here."
"Hobbits," said the orc. "Two hobbits. Well, ya lads better come in whilst I work out the cost of wot ya 'ave eaten."
"But we don't have any money on us," Merry felt dreadful. It seemed such a nice old orc and they had been eating its house.
"Never mind," said the orc. "Ya can pay me in chores. I needs some more wood cuttin' for the stove so's I can do me bakin'."
Feeling it was the least they could do to make it up to the orc, Merry and Pippin entered the house. Quick as a trice the door was slammed behind them, the bolt shoved into place and two meaty hands grabbed the hobbits by the back of their necks and swept them off their feet. Before you could say 'Lobelia Sackville-Baggins' Merry found himself shoved head first into a cage suspended from the ceiling and Pippin found himself with a chain around his ankle attached to a large metal ball.
"What..?"
"Oy! Let us go!" they both cried out together.
"Nah," said the orc. "It's been an age since I's 'ad fresh 'obbit meat. I'm a-gonna make ya into a pie." The orc took off its bonnet and poked at Merry with its clawed hand. "You's nice an fat fer a pie."
"I'm not fat!" protested Merry. "I'm big-boned."
"I likes bones too," said the orc. "Lotsa marrow to suck."
"Let him go," yelled Pippin, dancing at the end of his chain.
"An you'll make a fine dainty for afters," said the orc. "Now chop us some more wood for me stove or I'll introduce ya to me best mate." And the orc uncoiled from under his apron a long whip which he cracked over Pippin's feet and set the younger hobbit dancing back, chain clanking.
Long into the evening the orc had Pippin doing chores about the cottage, chopping wood, sweeping the hearth, dusting cobwebs. Anytime he started to slack a bit the orc's best friend was cracked in his direction and Pippin hurried up again.
All this time the orc was in a flurry of baking. He had got out a huge pan from the stove, greased it and lined it with pastry. Now he was making some leaf shapes to go on the top for decoration. While the orc's attention was diverted, Pippin swept his broom to beneath the cage Merry was sitting in.
"Get me out of here!" Merry hissed.
"I can't," squeaked Pippin. "The orc locked the door and took away the key. I saw him put it in his apron pocket."
"Then you must get help!"
"I can't," whined Pippin. "This ball and chain is too big for me to move."
"But he's going to make me into a pie!"
"Shut yer squeaking," snapped the orc, "or I'll come give ya somethin' to squeak about."
Pippin yelped and began to furiously sweep again. As his broom rushed over the floor a fair amount of dust was disturbed to fly up into the air. This gave Pippin an idea and he began to sweep closer to the table where the orc worked.
"Whatyer doin'?" the orc asked suspiciously.
"Just cleaning up the spilt flour," replied Pippin innocently. He brushed enthusiastically sending up a cloud of dust and flour that swirled up around the orc and set him coughing.
"Now see… cough… what ya … cough cough.. done.." the orc spluttered and whipped at his eyes with his floury hands. This only made it worse and the orc sneezed several times violently. "I gotta get me pie… cough… splutter… in the oven."
With streaming eyes the orc grabbed Pippin by the collar. "You – see if the oven's warm enough… achew!"
Pippin could already feel the heat from the oven.
"I'll burn my hands," he said. "And then I won't be able to sweep anymore."
The orc pulled at the apron it wore and tossed it to Pippin. "'ere, use that."
Pippin wrapped the apron around his hand and opened the door with the handle and a blast of heat met his face. "I don't think it's warm enough yet." Pippin said.
"Wot, are yer sure?"
"I don't know," said Pippin. "How hot does it need to be for a hobbit pie?"
"Very 'ot," said the orc still rubbing at his red and floury eyes.
"No," said Pippin. "I am sure it is not hot enough. Maybe you could check."
Impatient the orc shoved Pippin out of the way and leant over. "Seem's pretty 'ot ter me."
"Good!" cried Pippin and with a strong shove he pushed the orc in the small of the back and tipped him right into the oven before slamming the door. There was an awful screech and the smell of roast orc nearly choked Pippin. The young hobbit stumbled back from the heat pulling the key chain from the apron pocket as he went. He released his foot from its chains and then ran to free Merry.
"Well done, Pippin!" said Merry as he jumped down from his cage. "Now let's get out of here."
Together the two hobbits fled from the cottage. They did not stop running until they were a long way from the clearing and the smell of roast orc.
Feeling safe at last they collapsed against a tree trunk.
"We're still lost," said Merry.
"And I'm still hungry," said Pip.
"Here," said Merry. "I have a roof tile in my pocket."
The two hobbits huddled together in the dark and Pippin nibbled on the gingerbread roof tile. Fright and weariness over came them and soon they fell asleep where they were.
"Pippin!"
"I didn't do it!" Pippin protested before he became fully awake.
"Caught red handed," Frodo laughed.
"What?" Pippin sat up rubbing his eyes. It was full daylight and Frodo and Sam were standing before him in the picnic clearing. They were laughing whilst Merry looked furious.
"You've been eating my pocketbook!" Merry snatched from Pippin's clutch his red pocketbook which was definitely missing a corner and had drool on it.
Pippin scratched his head. "I thought it was a roof tile."
"That's an even sillier thing to eat," Frodo spluttered through his laughter. "I always said you would eat anything."
"Where have you been anyway?" pip demanded.
"Just to the stream to wash up," replied Sam. "You've been asleep."
"Asleep? Dreaming?" Pippin blew out a sigh of relief which ruffled his curls. "Thank goodness for that."
"Thought I should like to know where you got the gingerbread from," Frodo said. "It's all over your chin."
Frowning, Pippin rubbed at his chin and his fingers came away sticky. "That's odd." He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief to clean up the mess and pulled out… a brightly flowered apron.
The End
