Bronwe: Shadow (3/?)
By ALBA
******
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :)
******
BRONWE: Shadow
One quiet morning not long after Merry's twenty-fifth birthday, as Merry went to visit Frodo and Bilbo, Sam Gamgee sidled up to him outside the front door.
"Merry?" Sam ventured, wiping some dirt off his hands onto his pants.
"Yeah?" Merry's hand was poised to knock, but he turned to face the other hobbit.
"You have a shadow."
"What?" The hand came down and the eyes widened.
"Look behind you, fool," Sam said with a grin. Merry turned around and caught a glimpse of blond curls disappearing around the hedge. Sam looked at him. "Was that..."
"Yes, that was Pippin," Merry groaned. Sam shook his head, grinning just as Frodo poked his nose out the window at the sound of their voices.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing, Mr. Frodo," Sam said. "Mr. Merry was about to knock when I told him about his shadow."
"His shadow?" Frodo asked, then laughed. "OH! Yes... Merry's infamous shadow. How long has he been following you now?"
"Too long," groaned Merry. "It was cute, for a while. Now I'm really starting to wonder about that hobbit."
"He likes you," was Sam's answer.
"I wish he wouldn't like me so much! I'm eight years older than he is! It's a bit hard to explain to my friends why I've got a child shadowing my every move."
"Pippin's not..." Sam started, then stopped. "Well, I guess he is still a child. I mean, he's not of age yet, but he's not a little baby either."
"He's 16. I'm 25. It's quite annoying to have this little hobbit following me everywhere!!" Merry threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. "I've tried losing him, but he always seems to find me. Even if we try and go somewhere where he can't follow, he does!"
"Like Farmer Maggot's field?" Sam asked, eyes twinkling. "I overheard Fatty telling Ted about your trip into the mushroom patch last week."
"Everyone's against me!" cried Merry, but he had to smile. "Although it sounds like I shall have to remind Fatty what a *secret* is."
"He means well."
"I know, Sam. I just wish he wouldn't tell half the Shire what we've been doing. Maybe next time we'll leave him at home with Pippin... there's a thought. Fatty can distract Pippin long enough for me to get somewhere without him following!"
"Just humor him, Merry," Frodo suggested. "He'll grow out of it."
"That's what you've been saying for months, cousin," groused Merry.
"Is it really so bad to have someone who admires you?" Sam asked, giving Frodo a quick glance.
Merry sighed. "I guess not. I'd rather he admire me than hate me."
"There you go." With that, Frodo vanished from the window and reappeared at the door. "Come in for afternoon tea, Merry... and Sam, when you're done doing whatever it is you're doing out there in the dirt, feel free to join us."
"Thank you, Mr. Frodo!" Sam called as Merry and Frodo disappeared inside. And as the cousins had their afternoon tea and chat session, Merry swore he could hear Pippin's bright laughter above the sound of Sam's shears outside.
By ALBA
******
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :)
******
BRONWE: Shadow
One quiet morning not long after Merry's twenty-fifth birthday, as Merry went to visit Frodo and Bilbo, Sam Gamgee sidled up to him outside the front door.
"Merry?" Sam ventured, wiping some dirt off his hands onto his pants.
"Yeah?" Merry's hand was poised to knock, but he turned to face the other hobbit.
"You have a shadow."
"What?" The hand came down and the eyes widened.
"Look behind you, fool," Sam said with a grin. Merry turned around and caught a glimpse of blond curls disappearing around the hedge. Sam looked at him. "Was that..."
"Yes, that was Pippin," Merry groaned. Sam shook his head, grinning just as Frodo poked his nose out the window at the sound of their voices.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing, Mr. Frodo," Sam said. "Mr. Merry was about to knock when I told him about his shadow."
"His shadow?" Frodo asked, then laughed. "OH! Yes... Merry's infamous shadow. How long has he been following you now?"
"Too long," groaned Merry. "It was cute, for a while. Now I'm really starting to wonder about that hobbit."
"He likes you," was Sam's answer.
"I wish he wouldn't like me so much! I'm eight years older than he is! It's a bit hard to explain to my friends why I've got a child shadowing my every move."
"Pippin's not..." Sam started, then stopped. "Well, I guess he is still a child. I mean, he's not of age yet, but he's not a little baby either."
"He's 16. I'm 25. It's quite annoying to have this little hobbit following me everywhere!!" Merry threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. "I've tried losing him, but he always seems to find me. Even if we try and go somewhere where he can't follow, he does!"
"Like Farmer Maggot's field?" Sam asked, eyes twinkling. "I overheard Fatty telling Ted about your trip into the mushroom patch last week."
"Everyone's against me!" cried Merry, but he had to smile. "Although it sounds like I shall have to remind Fatty what a *secret* is."
"He means well."
"I know, Sam. I just wish he wouldn't tell half the Shire what we've been doing. Maybe next time we'll leave him at home with Pippin... there's a thought. Fatty can distract Pippin long enough for me to get somewhere without him following!"
"Just humor him, Merry," Frodo suggested. "He'll grow out of it."
"That's what you've been saying for months, cousin," groused Merry.
"Is it really so bad to have someone who admires you?" Sam asked, giving Frodo a quick glance.
Merry sighed. "I guess not. I'd rather he admire me than hate me."
"There you go." With that, Frodo vanished from the window and reappeared at the door. "Come in for afternoon tea, Merry... and Sam, when you're done doing whatever it is you're doing out there in the dirt, feel free to join us."
"Thank you, Mr. Frodo!" Sam called as Merry and Frodo disappeared inside. And as the cousins had their afternoon tea and chat session, Merry swore he could hear Pippin's bright laughter above the sound of Sam's shears outside.