Lions and Tigers and Wargs (oh my)
By Cobalt_Goddess
Chapter 2: I've seen Shire and I've seen Rain..
A/N: I think I'll make this a BIT funny, but not a parody. Think of it as an AU crossover.
"Oi! Get off you tubby git!"
Sam didn't like the floor. It was, in his opinion, far too hard a thing to fall against, especially when drunk, which he was. Pippin had tried to get down from the makeshift stage they'd made from two tables to help Sam up, but had instead tripped and landed on top of him.
"Sorry Sam, don't get tetchy," Pippin cajoled as he got up warily. "Blame Merry, he pushed me."
"Didn't!" shouted Merry from across the room. "It was Frodo!"
Sam raised himself up carefully, so as not to meet the floor once again, twice in one night was plenty. Frodo was to his right at the bar, laughing so hard he was doubled over.
"That," Frodo giggled,"Is why I stay sober around you three!"
"Yeah, real funny when it's not your bum on the ground," grumped Sam. He tried his best to be angry, but he couldn't fight the sight of Frodo's hysterics, and began laughing at himself as well. Pippin climbed back on top of the table and, suppressing giggles, began to sing: There was a gent, Sam was his name, When he weren't drinkin' he was quite sane, Then one night he saw a lass, Fell off of the table and on his ass! Raucous laughter erupted from everyone but Sam as Pippin bowed, lost his footing, and fell. Then Sam laughed.
"Come on you three," announced Rosie Cotton in a motherly tone."You've had quite enough for one night, and it's beginning to rain. Frodo, can you see that they get home without falling over themselves or drowning in a puddle?" Frodo readily agreed, and helped his three drunk companions out the door.
"You know, I quite fancy Rosie," Sam began slurredly as they stumbled toward Bagshot Row in the rain, Merry and Pippin trudging along several feet behind." I'm gonna ask her on a hayride tomorrow, I am.."
Frodo just smiled and remained silent. He wished Sam would do just that, but he was far to timid when he was sober, he'd never have the guts to open up to Rosie, not without a good strong ale. They reached Sam's house, and Frodo helped his friends inside where they all promptly flopped onto a large padded bench. Frodo went to the kitchen, where Sam's Gaffer was still up, a worried expression crossing his face. "Hello Gaffer, what troubles you?" Frodo asked kindly. As he settled into the chair next to him. In the main room, Pip had begun to snore rather loudly between Merry and Sam. "Frodo lad, good to see you!" The Gaffer responded, as though he'd just realized they were there. "You'd best get home laddy, this 'taint a simple rain, it's a storm brewin' and I wouldn't have you out in it!." The look on Gaffer Gamgee's face shook Frodo, he seemed.scared, They woke up Pip, said their farewells, and after the customary drunken embrace from Sam, Merry, Pip, and Frodo headed back to Bilbo's, where they were all staying.
Several hours later, despite being exhausted, Frodo couldn't get to sleep. Outside, the rain had become torrential and big storms always worried him. He sat alone in his darkned kitchen, sipping peppermint tea and staring at the fire, lost in thought. "Frodo, you're up early!" Bilbo declared, entering the kitchen. "No," Frodo replied with a start. "I never went to bed, something's been on my mind." "Oh, what's that then, my boy?" Frodo sighed, looking out of the window into the downpour. "I just, That is the storm, storms, well, you know." he trailed off. "Yes my lad, I know." Bilbo walked over and embraced Frodo affectionately. "We all have our fears, my boy, and when the time is right, you'll conquer yours." They sat together for a long time, just watching the rain. "Well, Bilbo, I think I'll be okay now." Frodo smiled. "I'll go onto bed." Bilbo was looking out of the window again, his face gone white. Frodo was going to ask why when he realized that something was wrong.
Everything had gone quiet.
The Gaffer noticed it too, in fact, he'd been up all night keeping watch for it. Immediately he ran to the window, his heart fluttering in his chest. His mind was screaming "please no please no please no" but he knew he could do nothing until he knew for sure. He saw nothing, heard nothing, save for his own heavy breathing.
Frodo and Bilbo saw nothing from their own window, but unlike his elders, Frodo knew not why it the storm had gone silent.
Then they all heard it. A slow rumbling sound, barely a murmur.
"A Cyclone!" The Gaffer yelled, waking Sam and dragging him along, as he ran out into the square." Get up! A cyclone is coming!" Quickly, he struck the meeting bell as loudly as he could manage, attempting to wake everyone up.
People began hurriedly rushing from their homes, half-asleep and frightened, their children wailing in confusion. Sam quickly found his way to Bilbo's and threw the door open, waking Merry and Pippin.
"Get up, you lot and make sure everyone's accounted for and in the shelter!" Sam ordered of his hungover shiremates. Merry nodded knowingly and pulled Pippin out into the square. Bilbo and Frodo ran from the kitchen with packs of food and bags of water. They'd prepared for this, a yearly occurrence in the Shire. Frodo was clearly distraught, but it was even clearer that he would help despite his fear, and so Sam and he set about opening all of the heavy access doors to the shelters, which were under Bilbo's house. Within minutes, all of Bag End stood filing into the shelter, Pippin and Merry counting heads as they went. The wind ripped against their hair and tore at their clothes, but the cyclone was still miles away by the time the last hobbit escaped underground. Frodo was at the storm cellar door, his breathing laboured with effort. Merry, knowing well Frodo's fears, placed an arm around his cousin and smiled. "See Frodo? All are safe, doesn't that make you feel better?" "Yes," Frodo returned,"Yes it does Merry."
"Did you see Rosie?" Sam called to Pippin after helping Bilbo pass out blankets and water. "No, I didn't see her!" Pippin cried, terrified because it was his first cyclone. "Sam," Mr. Cotton bellowed, rushing to meet him. "Rosie said she was stayin' at the Bolger's tonight, but Estella says she ain't gone over yet! She must still be at the Green Dragon!"
"Right," Sam said determinedly "I'm going then." "Not alone you're not," Merry, who'd heard it all, announced. Frodo stood behind them both, a coil of rope around his shoulder. Pippin ran to the door and threw it open. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!" he shouted. They all looked at him, very surprised, and followed.
Meanwhile, inside the Green Dragon, Rosie woke up. She'd fallen asleep accidentally while taking inventory in the storeroom. She knew the rumbling she heard as she awoke was a bad thing, and she hurredly ran to the exit to get to Frodo's cellar. The wind was blowing so fiercely that Rosie had to forcibly push the door open. She stood in the doorway for a moment, the dust blowing in the air blurring her vision. Then as she started toward the Bagginses, her vision cleared just enough to see it. A tower of black on black, twisted and whipping like a cat's tail, both terrifying and beautiful.
It was too late to run.
Chapter 2: I've seen Shire and I've seen Rain..
A/N: I think I'll make this a BIT funny, but not a parody. Think of it as an AU crossover.
"Oi! Get off you tubby git!"
Sam didn't like the floor. It was, in his opinion, far too hard a thing to fall against, especially when drunk, which he was. Pippin had tried to get down from the makeshift stage they'd made from two tables to help Sam up, but had instead tripped and landed on top of him.
"Sorry Sam, don't get tetchy," Pippin cajoled as he got up warily. "Blame Merry, he pushed me."
"Didn't!" shouted Merry from across the room. "It was Frodo!"
Sam raised himself up carefully, so as not to meet the floor once again, twice in one night was plenty. Frodo was to his right at the bar, laughing so hard he was doubled over.
"That," Frodo giggled,"Is why I stay sober around you three!"
"Yeah, real funny when it's not your bum on the ground," grumped Sam. He tried his best to be angry, but he couldn't fight the sight of Frodo's hysterics, and began laughing at himself as well. Pippin climbed back on top of the table and, suppressing giggles, began to sing: There was a gent, Sam was his name, When he weren't drinkin' he was quite sane, Then one night he saw a lass, Fell off of the table and on his ass! Raucous laughter erupted from everyone but Sam as Pippin bowed, lost his footing, and fell. Then Sam laughed.
"Come on you three," announced Rosie Cotton in a motherly tone."You've had quite enough for one night, and it's beginning to rain. Frodo, can you see that they get home without falling over themselves or drowning in a puddle?" Frodo readily agreed, and helped his three drunk companions out the door.
"You know, I quite fancy Rosie," Sam began slurredly as they stumbled toward Bagshot Row in the rain, Merry and Pippin trudging along several feet behind." I'm gonna ask her on a hayride tomorrow, I am.."
Frodo just smiled and remained silent. He wished Sam would do just that, but he was far to timid when he was sober, he'd never have the guts to open up to Rosie, not without a good strong ale. They reached Sam's house, and Frodo helped his friends inside where they all promptly flopped onto a large padded bench. Frodo went to the kitchen, where Sam's Gaffer was still up, a worried expression crossing his face. "Hello Gaffer, what troubles you?" Frodo asked kindly. As he settled into the chair next to him. In the main room, Pip had begun to snore rather loudly between Merry and Sam. "Frodo lad, good to see you!" The Gaffer responded, as though he'd just realized they were there. "You'd best get home laddy, this 'taint a simple rain, it's a storm brewin' and I wouldn't have you out in it!." The look on Gaffer Gamgee's face shook Frodo, he seemed.scared, They woke up Pip, said their farewells, and after the customary drunken embrace from Sam, Merry, Pip, and Frodo headed back to Bilbo's, where they were all staying.
Several hours later, despite being exhausted, Frodo couldn't get to sleep. Outside, the rain had become torrential and big storms always worried him. He sat alone in his darkned kitchen, sipping peppermint tea and staring at the fire, lost in thought. "Frodo, you're up early!" Bilbo declared, entering the kitchen. "No," Frodo replied with a start. "I never went to bed, something's been on my mind." "Oh, what's that then, my boy?" Frodo sighed, looking out of the window into the downpour. "I just, That is the storm, storms, well, you know." he trailed off. "Yes my lad, I know." Bilbo walked over and embraced Frodo affectionately. "We all have our fears, my boy, and when the time is right, you'll conquer yours." They sat together for a long time, just watching the rain. "Well, Bilbo, I think I'll be okay now." Frodo smiled. "I'll go onto bed." Bilbo was looking out of the window again, his face gone white. Frodo was going to ask why when he realized that something was wrong.
Everything had gone quiet.
The Gaffer noticed it too, in fact, he'd been up all night keeping watch for it. Immediately he ran to the window, his heart fluttering in his chest. His mind was screaming "please no please no please no" but he knew he could do nothing until he knew for sure. He saw nothing, heard nothing, save for his own heavy breathing.
Frodo and Bilbo saw nothing from their own window, but unlike his elders, Frodo knew not why it the storm had gone silent.
Then they all heard it. A slow rumbling sound, barely a murmur.
"A Cyclone!" The Gaffer yelled, waking Sam and dragging him along, as he ran out into the square." Get up! A cyclone is coming!" Quickly, he struck the meeting bell as loudly as he could manage, attempting to wake everyone up.
People began hurriedly rushing from their homes, half-asleep and frightened, their children wailing in confusion. Sam quickly found his way to Bilbo's and threw the door open, waking Merry and Pippin.
"Get up, you lot and make sure everyone's accounted for and in the shelter!" Sam ordered of his hungover shiremates. Merry nodded knowingly and pulled Pippin out into the square. Bilbo and Frodo ran from the kitchen with packs of food and bags of water. They'd prepared for this, a yearly occurrence in the Shire. Frodo was clearly distraught, but it was even clearer that he would help despite his fear, and so Sam and he set about opening all of the heavy access doors to the shelters, which were under Bilbo's house. Within minutes, all of Bag End stood filing into the shelter, Pippin and Merry counting heads as they went. The wind ripped against their hair and tore at their clothes, but the cyclone was still miles away by the time the last hobbit escaped underground. Frodo was at the storm cellar door, his breathing laboured with effort. Merry, knowing well Frodo's fears, placed an arm around his cousin and smiled. "See Frodo? All are safe, doesn't that make you feel better?" "Yes," Frodo returned,"Yes it does Merry."
"Did you see Rosie?" Sam called to Pippin after helping Bilbo pass out blankets and water. "No, I didn't see her!" Pippin cried, terrified because it was his first cyclone. "Sam," Mr. Cotton bellowed, rushing to meet him. "Rosie said she was stayin' at the Bolger's tonight, but Estella says she ain't gone over yet! She must still be at the Green Dragon!"
"Right," Sam said determinedly "I'm going then." "Not alone you're not," Merry, who'd heard it all, announced. Frodo stood behind them both, a coil of rope around his shoulder. Pippin ran to the door and threw it open. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!" he shouted. They all looked at him, very surprised, and followed.
Meanwhile, inside the Green Dragon, Rosie woke up. She'd fallen asleep accidentally while taking inventory in the storeroom. She knew the rumbling she heard as she awoke was a bad thing, and she hurredly ran to the exit to get to Frodo's cellar. The wind was blowing so fiercely that Rosie had to forcibly push the door open. She stood in the doorway for a moment, the dust blowing in the air blurring her vision. Then as she started toward the Bagginses, her vision cleared just enough to see it. A tower of black on black, twisted and whipping like a cat's tail, both terrifying and beautiful.
It was too late to run.