The Hobbits

"I will take the Ring," he said, "though I do not know the way."
Elrond raised his eyes and looked at Frodo..."This is the hour of the Shire-folk, when they arise from their quiet fields, to shake the towers and counsels of the Great. Who of all the Wise could have foreseen it?" The Fellowship of the Ring

#1: Greens

Pippin never liked eating his vegetables, because he never believed he'd get any taller, and, anyway, what was the fun in being tall? It seemed like the Big Folk were the ones that brought all the misery on the world. You don't see anybody giving rings to hobbits for safekeeping (the one Bilbo had didn't count…)

#2: Only Brew

They really needed to drink less, but there was no better feeling that coming home from the Green Dragon completely drunk and singing to the trees and the stars and the sky and, later, when they were back from that Journey, telling everyone within earshot exactly how many trolls they had taken down.

#3: Save

Once, on a November day that snapped with frost and bit with wind, Sam and Merry, only in their tweens, crossed the woods together, for once without their friends, hopping easily over streams and through thickets of thorns. When they sat down for the first time, Merry pulled roots out of the ground. "Are these edible, Sam?"

Something nagged in the back of Sam's brain and he frowned, looking at them. He threw an arm in front of Merry just before he placed one in his mouth. "Let's try them. Give them here." Sam reached for the roots and nibbled one end, flinching at the bitterness. "These are no good, Mr. Merry. Too salty." He threw them out of Merry's reach.

They were poisonous, extremely so. Within an hour Sam was stumbling, retching, vomiting, with Merry's worried hands on his back, his face, his high voice getting higher as Sam drifted into unconsciousness. The young gardener lived through the experience, though the herbalist who treated him said that, if Sam had been any smaller (like Merry's size) he would have surely died from the poison.

And that was the time Sam saved Merry's life.

#4: Brothers

None of them had any official brothers. Sam and Pippin had sisters, and Sam had male cousins that lived with him. Merry and Frodo were only children. Somehow, though, being around each other made up for the brothers they never had.

#5: Home

When Sam woke up in Gondor, he was in a white room, and Aragorn was with him. But what comforted him more was the sight of two hobbits, just his size, curled together at the foot of his bed, unwilling to leave their friend even in their sleep.

#6: Split

They were ten and fifteen when the Tooks and Brandybucks decided that, perhaps, Merry and Pippin spending every waking minute together was unhealthy. In an attempt to encourage the young hobbits to make new friends, Merry was sent to Bilbo and Pippin to the Proudfoots on the edge of the Old Forest.

The third night, Frodo, who was also staying at Bag End for the summer, was awakened by the sound of his cousin n the next room. Thinking that Merry was lonely, he slipped out of bed to comfort the younger boy, and was happy but not surprised to find Pippin, face red and eyes bright, sitting in the bed with Merry, laughing.

#7: Weather Top

It wasn't something anyone brought up without Frodo talking about it first. Weather Top was their first big mistake, back when they could still afford mistakes. If it had been two or three or eight months later, none of it would have happened. They could have fought better, hid better, run further….

No one talked about Weather Top, but all four hobbits remembered the terror of that night, the awful cold feeling that settled into their stomachs when nine un-dead Kings surrounded the lonely hill. Cold as despair, as nothingness, as if they'd never be happy again.

#8: Poems

Few people knew that, when poems echoed in the town square during the long, cold months of winter when riddling contests and poetry recitations were the only things to break the monotony, it was Sam who took first place, every time, a dark horse with his red face and hair, his long, slow smile, his voice which could transport the listener in a single sentence, a single word.

#9: Roles

Frodo was the oldest, but also the most scatterbrained, the one who lost track of time and misplaced his books, the one who led with the carelessness of one who was used to others following, with the gentleness of one who understood responsibility.

Sam was the keeper of everyone, the one who'd worked since he was young and was passionate about gardening, food, words, and Rosie Cotton. He was the one who loved the fiercest, the one who remained unchanged, unwavering, the one who needed the Shire almost as much as he needed Frodo to be there with him.

Merry was a rock, solid, steady, the middle child of the group. Peacemaker though he may be, he had a prankster heart with a large soft spot for Pippin. He was fiercely protective of his younger cousin, undyingly loyal to Frodo, and more than a little in awe of Sam.

Pippin was the gentle soul who looked for each new day, for adventures and new ideas and learning experiences. He was surprisingly good at puzzles and understood human dynamics without thinking. A social, amicable soul, he got on with about everyone he met, which is why witnessing war was so devastating on his innocent mind.

#10: Death

When Frodo was told of his parents' demise, he didn't understand the concept of death. It was only when he felt his bed creak under the weight of two other young bodies, felt tiny hands grab at his hair, his clothes, struggling to comfort in their own grief, that he realized death meant he'd never see his parents again.

#11: Tall

Most hobbits never even realize they're short compared to the rest of the world. Most hobbits only ever come into contact with Big Folk whenever Gandalf comes to town. But, in Gondor, with a nation of joyful people bowing at their feet, the four hobbits realized what it was like to be tall.

#12: Kith

Sam was the only one not related by blood. Oh, he was probably a distant relation, after all hobbits were notorious for inter-mingling, as they liked nothing better than large families with plenty of children, but Frodo, Merry, and Pippin were no further apart than second cousins. That never mattered, though, because when it came right down to it, Pippin felt closer to Sam than he did his own sisters, and Merry would gladly have laid down his life if it meant Sam being alive in his stead.

Frodo had only to smile, blue eyes sparkling, to let Sam know that he was the most important person in Frodo's life, and that had nothing to do with blood and everything to do with friendship.

#13: Kin

Merry began half-heartedly dating Pearl Took when he was in his tweens, partly because he thought it was expected of him but mostly because he wanted to be a part of Pippin's family for real. He stopped after a few weeks when Pippin, guessing his cousin's motives said, in their most serious conversation to date, that Merry was already his family, and nothing would ever change that.

#14: With You

No matter what Gandalf or Elrond or the other higher-ups thought, all the hobbits knew that there was no way Merry and Pippin were staying out of the adventure or a life time.

#15: Injuries

All Merry was told was that there were injuries, just injuries. He'd been spirited away from the Black Gate in a journey that he could never recall years later. Pippin was no longer by his side, and he'd been riding with Legolas, who was minus Gimli. When they got back to Gondor, Merry fell into such a sleep he didn't awake for two days.

"Come, Frodo and Sam have been found." He was stirred by Gimli, and threw his arms around the dwarf, who he hadn't expected to ever see again. "Pippin?" He questioned.

As they walked, Gimli told him about finding Pippin buried beneath a troll, about cracked ribs and broken bones. "He hasn't woken yet."

When Merry entered the room, he was surprised and pleased, thankful for whatever kind soul had thought of putting all the hobbits in one room. Aragorn was there, and the king glanced up from his work, told him it might be a while before his cousins and Sam would awaken. Merry nodded, yawned again, and curled up beside Pippin, one arm thrown over Sam, and for the first time in many months fell asleep between people who were the same size as he.

#16: Food

When they got back to Gondor, Frodo and Sam's stomachs couldn't take too much food at once, though they ate constantly, bites here and bites there, and Merry and Pippin helped them, because no hobbit of the Shire should ever go hungry.

#17: Funeral

They are all there when Frodo's parents were buried. Everyone cried, even Frodo, who was pretending to be so grown up, though he wasn't older than ten. Somehow, a chain was created; Merry, toddling Pippin clutched in his arms, Pip's tiny fingers curling through Sam's hair, Merry touching Frodo's hand, Frodo clutching desperately at Sam's shirt, unwilling, unable to let go.

#18: Keep Holding On

For a while, they tried to convince Frodo not to leave, not to go to the Grey Havens. In the end, even Sam realized how worn his master was getting. Somehow, when they got to the docks, he found the strength somewhere inside of himself to let go.

#19: Titles

"You need not call us mister anymore, Sam." Pippin teased. They were well over a hundred years old, and the old command had become a joke among what was left of the Fellowship.

"It makes me itchy when people call me mister, Mr. Pippin, for I'm only the son of a working hobbit, and you are gentle hobbits."

Merry clasped his old friend's hand. "And you are a Ring bearer, Master Samwise. Don't ever forget that."

#20: Sleep

The other members of the Fellowship never objected when the four hobbits slept on top of each other, faces and heads and legs tangling like so many dogs, because when they woke up, for a moment, there'd be small smiles on their faces, and though the men and the dwarf and the elf and the slightly senile old wizard had few chances to smile and even less to sleep, it didn't mean the tiny hobbits had to abide by that way of living.

#21: Slurs

"I don't believe all of this Sauron business. You know who I blame? Those strange 'uns coming out of the North with their little Ring making like they own the whole Earth. All my brothers died because of them. What I wouldn't give to wring the neck of that little -"

To be fair, Merry and Pippin were right behind him, but it was Sam who got to the man first, bristling, fists held high, eyes flashing, wondering if the man knew exactly how may orcs he'd killed during his trek through Mordor.

#22: Rejection

Frodo was twenty-three, out at the Green Dragon with his friends, including thirteen year old Pippin. He was stuttering to a girl, trying to get words out. "A-Actually, I like going outside the Sh-Shire. Lle naa vanima it m-means -." He never got any further. The girl looked over him, saw a group of friends, and smiled at him as she left.

Sam tried to hide the smile in his drink, but Merry was the one who slapped him on the back, guffawing. "Frodo, you know that girls like hearing they're beautiful. Just not in elvish."

#23: AWOL

Merry and Pippin would leave, get out of the Shire, just go as often as they could after the Breaking of the Fellowship. Sam and Frodo would watch, and wait, content in knowing that they would return.

And when they did, there'd always be a fire in Bag End, biscuits and tea and apples laid out of the table, a neat note written out next to it: Welcome Home.

#24: Carvings

They celebrated Halloween in Gondor, three weeks after the war ended. It was a Shire tradition, one that everyone participated in and no one knew the origins of. Pippin was seen that week walking through the streets, a pumpkin bigger than his whole body cradled in his arms.

He had to stand on a chair to extract the guts from the pumpkin, and by the time he had a knife in his hand he had a gathering of his friends to watch. "Pip, you make a pretty scary Jack-O-Lantern."

Frodo grinned in agreement. "You better hope Gandalf doesn't see it."

"He's the one who told me to carve it." Pippin said, turning the pumpkin around to display the White Wizard. Even after the battles, the beasts, the deaths, Mithrandir was still the scariest thing he knew.

#25: Night

It was worse at night. "What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing, Frodo, go back to sleep." Merry held Pippin's hand, rubbed his thumb over the back of it smoothly, carefully. "He'll be alight."

"How long has he been having night terrors?" Sam asked quietly, his voice a breath in the dark a second before he lit a match, illuminating the room and his pale, pale face.

Merry didn't want to tell them, because it was Pip's secret and he should divulge it to who he deemed necessary, but they would find out anyway. The four hobbits always seemed to find out things about each other, things no one else knew. "Since before Fangorn." Merry paused for a moment, then lifted Pippin's thin sleep-shirt to reveal the long stripes that had come with their captivity at the hands of the orcs. He had matching ones on his back, though they were far fewer in number: a handful to Pippin's dozen.

Frodo and Sam's mouths settled into hard lines but they said nothing, not then, because these things were always worse at night. Or so they hoped.

#26: Alternate Universe

"Where's Pippin?" All around the room, faces blanched at the name, worried eyes flitted over to Merry, whose face was carefully blank, who would never admit that he'd spent the days and weeks on the battle field, hoping he could be killed so he could see his cousin again.

Since they first met in Isengard, the rest of the small Fellowship had been careful not to say his name, not to even mention he was missing, gone forever, but they'd all heard Merry's snuffling cries at night, could all imagine what it had been like, watching the child he'd known since they were small be beaten to death by a band of orcs.

"Pippin…" Merry said slowly, relishing the feel of the name on his lips, "Pippin would have been very happy you are safe, Cousin." He choked on something in the back of his throat, tried again, "Very happy."

Sam threw an arm around Frodo, Frodo held out both of his so that he could hug Merry as he had so many times before. And the little circle of hobbits was closed once again, minus the one who had mattered most of all.

#27: Babysitting

Frodo was once again on cousin duty, watching Merry and Pippin when he really wanted to stay at Trolo Proudfoot's birthday. But the little ones were too little to keep awake the whole night and Frodo was voted out of the table, a helpful Sam trailing in his wake.

"Thanks, Sam." Frodo muttered, hosting Pip, barely three higher up on his waist, feeling the tiny hand rest on the back of his neck and relaxing to the touch. "You didn't have to do this."

"Sure I did, Mr. Frodo." Merry's hands were twined with Sam's and the younger child was stumbling along the short path, rubbing eyes bleary with sleep. "You know I like little ones more than speeches anyway."

"Still…" Frodo stared at Sam, wondering where the working boy's loyalty came from, wondering if he deserved any of it.

#28: Rescue

"Can't we keep him?"

Frodo stared, exasperated, at Merry. "No. He'll grow to be bigger than Pip and eat you both in your sleep."

Merry wrapped his hands tighter around the dog and stared at Frodo. "C'mon, Cousin, you won't get in trouble. Just say we snuck him into the house."

"You were going to sneak him into the house." Sam put in, "We just caught you."

"And if you hadn't, you wouldn't get in trouble." Pippin reasoned, also putting his arms around the dog, who was large and fluffy and a gorgeous shade of russet-red. "Please?"

No one could ever say no to Merry and Pippin when they were earnest. "Fine. But if Bilbo catches you, I don't know anything about any old dog."

#29: Watcher

Legolas watched the hobbits file into the crowded room, stand on tip-toe to reach the counter and order drinks, ignore the taunts of the drunken soldiers around them, and take seats at a table, sitting on their knees to reach it. He tilted his head and watched as Sam caught the flask newly nine-fingered Frodo was about to drop and raised an eyebrow when something Pippin said made the others snort into their drinks, spraying liquid everywhere.

He was fifteen feet away, standing with steadfast Gimli and a crowd of others, and had never felt more like an outsider.

#30: And All Were Young

The four had gone to have a picnic by a lazy stream running through a small offshoot of The Old Forest. Pippin, the youngest at almost nine, went off to pick flowers while Frodo, Merry, and Sam settled down with books and pipes and lazy stories, prepared to watch the afternoon turn into evening in the slow, methodical way of the world.

When the sun was hovering just below the branches of the trees, Merry glanced about. Frodo was asleep, the sun bouncing of his black curls and the soft leather of the book clutched in one hand. Sam was stoking the tiny fire, which crackled under his ministrations. "Where's Pip?" Merry asked, glancing about slowly at first, then with more urgency.

He remembered how his heart had stilled in his chest, how Sam had splashed into the stream even as Merry's own legs were rooted to the ground. He remembered Pippin's lips, tinged blue after being face down in the water. He remembered the tinkling laugh that shattered through his own self-doubt, the tiny arms that through themselves over his shoulders and squeezed hard, making Merry wish they'd never let go.

#31: Darkest Before…

It was always the bleakest nights, when all hope seemed lost and the Fellowship on the brink of despair, that Frodo would ask, suddenly, if the other hobbits wanted to hear a story of the Shire, one he'd told a thousand times before. Inevitably, the whole Fellowship would listen, add their own tales, and suddenly dawn didn't seem that far off.

#32: Pain

He was grieving, and so angry at his aunt for sending little Pippin to his care the week of the anniversary of his parents' deaths. With no Bilbo around for advice and sympathy, Frodo turned the pain inward until it started eating him up from the inside, until it burned white hot and angry.

Merry found Frodo on the floor, tiny Pippin in his arms, the young boy pulling on his cousin's hair as Frodo wept, Pippin's soft, worried soprano running over words the tot had heard often, though had never repeated with a black eye, a bruised lip, I'll be okay...it'll be okay.

#33: Happiness

Happiness was cake and dancing, whirling in circles under the stars; it was sitting for an afternoon to watch the movement of wind through the garden you'd worked on all week; it was coming home to find your friends and cousins already waiting for you, swapping tales and dares and riddles before looking up at you and smiling, as if it was you they'd been waiting for all along.

#34: Teacher

"It's okay Frodo, we don't really need to learn history, anyway."

Frodo groaned at Merry's voice, which carried a smile in the tone, and wondered if other teachers had students who chattered merrily to each other, to Sam, working outside, to themselves, but who, in an entire week of learning, had yet to know which subject they were taking.

#35: Sibling

It was a month after the funeral, and Merry and Pippin had accompanied Frodo down to the market. Picking through the vegetables, it was Merry who heard first, and tried to turn Frodo away. "Terrible, terrible." The old hobbit woman was saying, running her hand over the cloth she was looking to buy. "And with Primula that far along with child? Such a tragedy."

"Frodo?" Merry whispered, his childish voice high and worried, "Frodo, I'm so -" But Frodo was gone, fleeing the scene, the crowd, his cousins, running until he forgot about siblings and babies and the curve of his mother's belly, sinking beneath the waves.

#36: Fellowship

They'd been walking as long as they could in the knee-deep snow, but at mid-morning, when the blizzard sent drifts up to the men's waists, it was Gimli, the smallest, who first bent down, letting Pippin scramble feather-light on his back. Legolas took Merry on his shoulders, the men carried Frodo and Sam in their arms, letting the young hobbits bury their faces into cloth, away from the snow and cold, their murmurs of thank you lost to the wind.

#37: Distraction

Frodo paddled across the river Anduin, Sam in the back, tears streaking down their faces at the thought of the two hobbits, not even of age, offering to be the distraction so that Frodo could get out alive.

#38: Age

"He is so small!" Boromir remarked on the third day of their journey into the mountains, watching Pippin bound past him before stopping suddenly, letting himself fall backward into the grass, peals of laughter echoing from his throat.

"He isn't of age yet, sir." Sam explained, tugging the Pony behind him. "Neither him nor mister Merry. Pippin is but twenty-five, barely a tween."

Aragorn, near at hand, explained that twenty-five to a hobbit was twelve or thirteen to a man, that even Frodo, the oldest at thirty-six years, was but twenty by man's reckoning. Boromir gazed at the tiny beings, snaking easily between branches and vines at the man's hip level, and wondered who had permitted children on such a dangerous quest.

#39: Natural

It was Sam who pulled them from their beds, from their memories and dreams of bumps and bruises, of flame and death and battle and despair. It was Sam who led them down a flight of white stairs through a healing Gondor, Sam who brought along spades and shovels, Sam who lowered himself onto his knees first, pulling up fistfuls of weeds, replacing them with flowers that a war-city had not had time to tend. And, after watching him for a moment, the other hobbits fell into place beside him, doing what is natural to help a city get back onto its feet.

#40: Away

The tiny fingers poked at his, tried to find his grasp, but Merry shook them off, shouldering a pack and running to catch up with Frodo. "Go away, Pip!" At the tiny whimper, Merry knelt next to the four-year-old, no more than a foot tall, "It's just holiday, kiddo. I'll be back in three weeks." He let a grin fly across his face as he lifted Pippin's chin up. "Wait for me, okay, Pip?" He got up, tossed over his shoulder, "Three weeks, that's all."

#41: Friend

"Good mornin', little Pip." Sam peered at Pippin over the top of his basket of clippings, a smile twitching at the ends of his lips. The four-year-old was sitting on the edge of a small hill, looking at the spot his cousin and favored playmate had left several hours before. "Little Pip, I'm feeling terrible lonesome without mister Frodo around. He usually talks to me while I garden, you see." The young hobbit put the basket down carefully, bent to one knee, looking the tot in the face. "Would you mind being my friend until he comes back?"

And Pippin, always a giving soul, threw his arms around the older boy and said, solemnly, that of course he would be Sam's friend, for a little while, until their own came back from across the Shire.

They were friends for life.

#42: Savior

"Thank you, cousin Frodo." Merry said quietly, his hand slipping quietly into Frodo's, head bowed so his black eye was invisible. Next to him, Pippin repeated the same words, his own hands squirming into Merry's, then Sam's.

Sam for his part, said his thank-yous after they'd dropped the others at Brandybuck Hall. "I couldn't've taken them all on, Mr. Frodo, and the two little ones were crying so."

Frodo absentmindedly patted Sam's arm, eyes fixing on a point off in the distance. "I'm glad I was walking by when I did, Sam. Ten against three isn't a fair fight at all." He paused, stared at his gardener for a moment. "Thank you for looking after my cousins, Sam. It seems as if you've taken the worst of the injuries." His hand flitted for an instant above a cut, swollen lips and cheeks, a broken nose.

Unused to praise, especially from the very person he so idolized, Sam blushed, "'Twas still all down to you, Mr. Frodo. I didn't know you were so handy with a slingshot."

#43: Lothlorien

The Shire, with its quiet streams and gentle hills and soft Earth, was where the simple hobbit-folk belonged. They didn't wage wars against other peoples because there was nothing, not land nor riches nor men, that the hobbits needed or desired. They had everything in the Shire. They had their life in that little land that was so dear to them.

Before Lothlorien, all four hobbits would swear that, though Rivendell was wonderful, and Weathertop was awe-inspiring, and the Misty Mountains were beautiful and terrible, there was no place that could hold a candle to the Shire. Before Lothlorien, the hobbits were so sure that they had the best home on Middle Earth.

#44: Worry

Frodo streaked after Merry, running blindly, lopsidedly, until he was able to catch up to his more able-bodied friend. Sam was stumbling along at their sides, feeling the injuries of Mount Doom, the talons of eagles, the exhaustion of months breathing ash and fire… "Mr. Merry?"

For Merry had collapsed at the side of an eleven-year-old boy and began crying in earnest, and it took Frodo several minutes until he saw what the green of the cloak and curls of the hair must have looked like from the third tier of the citadel. "Oh, Merry. It's not him, it's not him…"

They found Pippin six hours later, buried in one of the carts returning from The Black Gate, bruised and pained but very much alive. And yet, when Merry finally closed his eyes that night, one hand wrapped in the warmth of his Pippin's, he still saw that eleven-year-old boy, dead and forgotten in the heat of battle.

#45: New Year Resolutions

Hobbits didn't celebrate the New Year like the humans did, in the cold of December. They marked the passing of time with the moon, the crops, the harvest, and, especially, birthdays. Calendars were, of course, kept, and started anew in January, but it was no more than another party to the tiny folk.

So when they were asked to give their resolutions for the first time, it's not really that odd that they were all remarkably similar: keep each other alive, at least for a little while longer.

#46: Ease

Whenever they were lonely, hurt, despairing against hopeless odds, all the hobbits had to think about was those years in the Shire, when time passed with ease over the hobbit friends, when the grass tickled beneath their tiny bodies, when the wind blew the scents of ponies and harvest and springs, when they were happy.

#47: Secrecy

Even the sorriest hobbit can carry a tune, and loved to sing. So the hobbits couldn't figure out why the rest of the Fellowship started going on about "giving away the position" when they started singing while bathing in the Anduin.

#48: Reasons Why

They grew old in the Shire, happy to be away from adventures and peril, and every time one of the four hobbits were asked how they made it through such Big and Noisy things with their heads on straight, each would answer, either out loud or to themselves, that they each had three reasons to keep themselves alive, to keep going, because hobbits have to stick together, right?

#49: Clothes

Ever since they were little, the four had been swapping clothes left and right. Merry would absent-mindedly put on his older cousin's waistcoat while staying at Bag End. Pippin would go home to find Sam's coat draped over his shoulders. Pippin's gloves ended up on Frodo's hands, Merry's scarf became Sam's favorite article of winter clothing.

None of them minded in the least, because, really, what were friends for if not giving each other the shirt of their backs?

#50: Love

It was intangible for the most part, unspoken. It was in the lessons, the games, the parties, in the long quiet summer evenings, in helping in the garden, in singing and dancing and playing and fighting and living against all the odds. Yes, the four hobbits rarely spoke of the love that existed so palpably between them, because actions, as always, spoke volumes louder than words.

We know we said Eomer was next, but we couldn't leave these poor hobbits alone. He's coming, we promise, but the hobbits are just so cute.

As always, when you review, mention which one is your favorite. It may get turned into a one-shot...