I don't own Frodo or Elrond. Everyone and everything belongs to JRR Tolkien . . . except Pippin II.

Pippin II

Bilbo had been gone a sixmonth and, outwardly, Frodo seemed to be coping well. He walked less often it was true and the little cottage they had shared for several years was tidier, the garden weedless. He still called upon Elrond and Celebrian and the many other elves he had befriended since his arrival, and he received many visitors in return. But the healer in Elrond could see a hollowness within. He waited to see if it would heal on its own, as such things often did, but when it did not he decided it was time to take a hand.

He found Frodo upon hands and knees before the kitchen window, a bucket at his side filled with soil and mint leaves. The air was thick with the clean, sharp-sweet smell of the plant.

"Good morning, Frodo."

Frodo dumped another handful of mint into his bucket and straightened, using one hand to rub the small of his back and leaving a muddy smear on his shirt in the process. "Good morning, Elrond."

Elrond nodded toward the little herb plot and the area scoured clean before his friend's knees. "Whatever has the mint plant done to offend you?"

"It has become a bully and is going to strangle my nice thyme plants if I don't reign it in." Frodo pointed to the bucket. "I don't suppose you would like to take some of this home to make mint tea? I have far too much and this little lot is destined for the compost heap otherwise."

"I am certain Celebrian would be happy to accept some to make tea and I can use the rest for compresses and ointments."

"Good. I don't like to see things go to waste. Sam taught me that much. If you pass me that riddle I can sift out any soil." He pointed to the large round, mesh based instrument near Elrond's feet.

Elrond merely looked conflicted and Frodo noted that he had both arms folded within his heavy outer robe. "Before we do that, I came to ask a favour of you."

Frodo stood and Elrond noted how much more slowly he did so, remembering the younger hobbit who, even recovering from a morgul wound, would clamber to his feet so easily. How swiftly mortals aged, even here, in the beneficent air of the West.

"Name it. You know I will do anything I can. You and your family have already given me far more than I could ever repay."

Elrond smiled softly. How many times had he told Frodo that the debt was entirely his, and the gift from his daughter only a fraction of the payment owed by all of Middle earth to this unassuming hobbit? So many times that he decided that one more would be a waste of his breath. They would never agree upon the matter. Instead, he held out his arms to reveal a small brown, squirming bundle.

"Erestor and Faerwen's dog had puppies six weeks ago. Dawdle was doing well at first but then developed an infection. I tried to help but, sadly, she died a few days ago. They have been hand rearing the litter since then but this little chap is not doing well. He needs more attention than Erestor and Faerwen can give and they wondered if you would be willing to accept a house guest."

A little wet black nose sniffed delicately at Frodo's proffered muddy fingers. "I've never particularly liked dogs . . . an unfortunate incident in my childhood." The softening of gaze and voice belied any claim to dislike however as a little pink tongue swiped experimentally at Frodo's palm. Frodo withdrew his hand at once, scolding gently. "Here now! That hand is dirty. You shouldn't be licking it."

Elrond chuckled, bending his long length to set his gift upon the grass at Frodo's feet. The puppy took two wobbling steps before landing upon her little rump and rolling completely over before clambering back onto pink padded feet. "She will come to little harm from good clean soil."

Just as well, Frodo noted, as the puppy began to scratch at the newly cleared earth of the kitchen garden, showering the lawn with soil. If hunting was not to be her niche, digging would definitely suit this rather long bodied dog, with legs that barely managed to hold her round pink belly off the floor. This was certainly not a dog bred to hunt down deer.

Frodo made a grab for the puppy's scruff as she made to squat amid the young thyme plants. She yelped as she was deposited firmly in some long grass. "Oh no you don't, you little mischief! If you need the toilet you can do it there." After circling a couple of times the puppy obliged, then bumbled back to plant herself upon the grass at Frodo's feet, gazing up at him with adoring liquid brown eyes.

Elrond, despite tight clamped lips, appeared to find the event highly amusing, his grey eyes twinkling. "I think she likes you. At the least, she obeys you."

Frodo lowered himself to the grass and the puppy made a valiant effort to clamber into his lap, drawing a giggle from her mortal climbing frame when she only succeeded in tumbling onto her back and rolling over before trying again. After several more attempts Frodo took pity upon her, lifting her into his lap, where she shoved her face between the buttons of his shirt, tucked her little wet nose against his belly and promptly went to sleep.

Elrond hunkered down at his side. "She definitely likes you."

Frodo pursed his lips, but his hand strayed to rest upon the soft rise and fall of the puppy's chest. "How long would I be expected to care for her?"

"Just until she is old enough to fend for herself and find her new family," Elrond replied neutrally. "A few weeks only."

Frodo touched the little pink pads of one back foot and the puppy twitched in her sleep but did not awaken. "A few weeks," he echoed, already under her spell. "Does she have a name?"

Elrond smiled, congratulating himself. "Not yet. That is a matter usually decided between dog and family. But if it would make it easier I am sure she would not object to a temporary name, if you have one in mind."

Frodo looked from damp grass to cratered herb bed. "She is small and full of mischief. Pippin, I think." He stroked the back curled so tightly in his lap. "I shall call you Pippin." He turned to lift one brow at Elrond. "Just until she finds her new family you understand."

"Absolutely," Elrond replied. "I am certain that you will be the first to know, when she makes her choice."

And Frodo was.

END