Title:
Cinders and Roses.
Author:
Roz
E-mail:
roz4hobbits@hotmail.com
Over
all Rating: NC-17
Chapter
rating: R
Pairing:
M/P.
Summary:
Once upon a time a young lad fell in love with a prince and wished upon a star
for a happy ending, and because this is a fairy tale, his wish was granted.
Notes:
I decided to follow the mixed-matched copy of the eldest version I could find
so expect sex and it to carry on a little longer than after the glass slipper
bit.
Feedback:
look feedback slut here!
Warnings:
hobbit sex/Pippin abuse.
Disclaimer:
I own nothing *sobs*
Dedication:
To Erik who digged the idea and beta-ed it.
*********************************************************************
Once upon a time in a kingdom not so far away there lived a noble-hobbit who
was very much in love with his wife. Their union was blessed with a child, a son and
heir for the family, whom they named Pippin.
But the birth had been difficult and the wife grew weaker and weaker until finally she begged her husband to give their child to her. She held the boy in her arms and wished with her last breath that he would be blessed.
Paladin buried his wife and wept for days and nights at her grave; his little son he doted on, for as the lad grew he grew fair in looks and sweet in temper like his mother. Paladin began to think perhaps the boy needed a mother, so he remarried to a widow with three daughters all older than his son.
These daughters were as beautiful as sunsets, with voices like bird song but tempers like old shoes; all day long they would tease Pippin, tug at his curls, pinch his cheeks and call him a lass, but Pippin never complained, and they never did it when his father was around and could hear the crying.
The stepmother was wicked and evil. She wanted only what was best for her daughters and in their bed at night she whispered things to Paladin, dark things. She told him Pippin had caused the death of his beloved first wife and slowly, surely he began to believe her: he cast Pippin from his gaze, made him take his meals with the servants and spend his days in manual labour rather than pursuits of the gentry.
Then Paladin became ill, and he would not allow his son to nurse him so he slowly died and was buried besides his first wife. Pippin, tears still fresh on his face, laid himself down in the ashes of the great kitchen fire and mourned.
The sisters laughed and called him CinderPippin but Pippin didn't care, for with his father's death came the death of his hope. He became a servant in his own home, watching it fall into despair as the family fortune was squandered on the vain, selfish sisters.
People began to forget the young lad that had lived and been the son of Paladin; they began to believe he had died of fever and was buried with his parents, a rumour Pippin's stepmother encouraged. And Pippin began to believe that boy he had been was dead.
But all that was about to change, for you see, in this kingdom the king had only one son, a handsome lad named Meriadoc who had grown up with all the riches the palace could offer him. Because of this he had grown to believe he could have whatever he wanted and the king found himself quietly paying off a few families expecting royal visits in nine months or so.
The king decided it was high time his son put all this playing with lasses business behind him and married for duty and money, so he had arranged a ball for all the eligible lasses in his kingdom to attend. Merry had sulked and grown quite offended at the idea, but finally consented when he realised he could pick his bride to be.
Merry had grown up with a playmate, and now close friend: his cousin Frodo. Frodo had a thing for lads and one in particular who was the son of a farmer, and everyday the two lads would go riding together and would stop at this farm. Frodo and his lad would go off towards the hay barn and Merry would be left to amuse himself.
Today he had wandered over the farmer's fields and come to a grove of trees with a well beside a stream. A slender lad was leaning over the well pulling up a bucket filled with water from its depths, as Merry watched the lad move he knew he would want no other, he'd had his fill with lasses and other lads held no candle to him.
Pippin raised his head and locked gazes with the lad walking across the field towards him; his breath caught in his throat as the lad removed his gloves and laid them on the well before gripping Pippin's arm.
"Tell me your name"
"Pippin, sir" Pippin bobbed a little and the handsome hobbit gave him a smile.
"My name is Merry"
This for Merry had always been enough as far as seduction went normally knowing the king's son wanted them was enough for the lasses he bedded and he was pretty sure it was enough for this lad whose pale cheeks where stained with a soft blush. He leant across and pressed his lips to Pippin's; the young hobbit gave a muffled protest but wrapped his arms about Merry's neck and allowed himself to be lowered on to the grass beside the well.
Merry's hand fondled him through his breeches and his kisses trailed down Pippin's neck, sucking on the fair skin there as the other hobbit moaned and arched under the touch, his hands travelled down to Merry's rump and he squeezed, delighting at the startled and aroused sound from Merry.
Merry pushed down Pippin's breeches, pushed the lad's legs apart and spat in his hand. He sought out Pippin's opening and slid a finger inside and Pippin gave a short, sharp shout and clutched at Merry.
"Prince Meriadoc!"
Merry pulled away swearing under his breath and Pippin pulled his breeches up, fumbling with the ties red-faced and panting.
Frodo came into view; he took one look and the sight before him and turned his head away blushing.
"Come away sir, your father will be angry at us taking so long"
"Bugger my father" Merry growled, Frodo's cheeks reddened more and Pippin appeared on the verge of tears, Merry kissed him slowly and stroked his hair.
"I am sorry" he said before following Frodo to where he had tethered the horses, Pippin leant back against the well eyes closed listening to the sound of them riding away, and he cried.
~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~
Pippin's face was flushed and his eyes puffy. He angrily stuffed Pervincia's dress into the washing tub and scrubbed in attempts to remove the gravy stains she had spilled last supper.
He was angry at himself, he couldn't believe he had allowed himself to be accosted like that and worse by the king's son who was well known for bedding half the Shire. Even worse Pippin had wanted him, desperately.
Pippin slouched dejectedly into the soapy water cursing himself: he was being stupid to dreaming of Merry, another lad and the king's son, loving him, wanting him, claiming him, stupid.
There came a heavy knock upon the door and a shout from upstairs. Pippin smiled as he went to answer the door, that shout meant one of his stepsisters had stabbed herself with a hair pin. Pippin opened the door and was greeted by a red faced hobbit in soldiers uniform; for one absorbed moment Pippin thought he was about to be arrested for seducing the king's son but then the soldier only handed him a letter before bowing and walking off to the next house.
Pippin shut the door and looked over the letter; it had the royal seal upon it, and he wanted to rip it open and read what ever was inside because he felt sure it must be something, something for him.
"Pippin!" The young hobbit winced and turned to see his step-mother at the top of the stairs. "Give me the letter" she said sternly. Pippin obediently climbed the staircase and handed her the note. "Come with me"
He followed her into the girls' bed rooms where the sisters lounged in chairs or on the bed in various states of undress, his step-mother ripped open the letter and read it out loud.
"Prince Meriadoc requests the presence of you and your family at a royal ball to be held one week hence to find a bride for his royal highness"
Pippin gasped, and then collapsed. It was more shocking than any love letter could have been.
He came round to a sharp slap on his cheek, his step mother was above him hand raised and when she saw he was awake she struck him again.
"You lazy boy" she cried "my poor girls need new dresses and you fall asleep, get up and take measurements for the tailor" she let Pippin stagger to his feet and then she hit him again, hard, across the cheek.
He felt tears rise up in his eyes but he fought them down not wanting her to see, he turned to leave and passed a mirror: a dark bruise was already forming on his pale cheek and he winced to see it.
"Stepmother" he said, hand upon the doorknob "I would like to have my measurements take too"
"Why? Do you require some new rags?" The sarcasm was not lost but Pippin would not let this idea go.
"I wish to be allowed to go to the ball: the invitation said family, and after all I am a member of this family, whether you wish me to be or not." The tone of his voice was harsh and his stepmother's eyes widened then narrowed as she heard it. She frowned and Pippin was sure she was planning something he would regret later.
"A member of the family" she said coldly.
"Yes"
"Very well, if you are a member of the family you must certainly come with us"
Pippin had an uneasy feeling he had won too easily.
"Thank you" he said slowly before leaving.
His step-mother smiled. "A member of the family!" and then she laughed.
