Till the End of His Days
Author: nacey
Email: tosh@opera.iinet.net.au
Category: Drama, Romance, AU Rating: PG
Spoilers: All six books. Summary: The story of Frodo's life after the journey of the Ring. DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JRR Tolkien, and Tolkien Enterprises. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author notes: This story is not properly edited. The final version may differ greatly from the one you are reading right now. This is just to air the idea and to see what others think of it, so I know whether to bother publishing it on the net or whether to keep it amongst my close friends. I very much thought that Lord of the Rings didn't need fan-fiction when I was reading it, until I read the ending. Then I saw the movies and it inspired me to write this little "Alternate-Universe" fic. I think that the ending that Tolkien did was absolutely perfect, and this is just my attempt at a different idea of what it could be like, mainly borne of my experience being amongst and being a person living with depression (I believe that poor Frodo had one of the most chronic cases of Post-Traumatic Stress that ever was). Constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms. Website: http://www.nancylorenz.com/lothlorien/
~~*~~
Chapter Two - A Day on the Meadow
Despite Sam and Rosie's interferences, Frodo had felt in an unusually good mood that evening which lasted well into the next day. It was quite a warm day that followed; the air was warm and a touch stifling. It was quite like the day that Gandalf had visited Bilbo and Frodo before the Ring mess had begun. Whether Frodo knew this, or whether it was something that touched his unconscious, it wasn't certain, but he felt the need to pull out one of his favourite old books and sit in the crook of the old tree he used to play under when he was a hobbit-child. He wasn't quite as nimble as he used to be, and he wasn't as quick up the tree, but being a hobbit he was more agile than a human of his equivalent age.
As he read the book, all about the oldest hobbits, he stuffed his pipe with some fragrant Southfarthing pipeweed, the sound of sparrows twittering on the wing filling his ears. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there reading, when the sound of shrill hobbit-children laughter rang through the air. He rested his book in his lap, looking out onto the meadow that he'd gazed out on many a time before.
From the road leading towards New Row and the rest of the Shire three hobbits broke into a run, tumbling out into the tall lush green grass that was scattered with daisies and dandelions. Two of the number were children - girls, with long golden hair that was so unusual but common now amongst the folk of the Shire, and a hobbit-lady. The last was well-curved lass in a summer-dress, the dark waved hair unmistakable. Periwinkle and her nieces, Frodo thought. Well it is a nice day; naturally they'd enjoy a nice run in the grass. He put his attention back to the book, fixing his thoughts to the words that ran on the pages. The children's laughter and talk didn't bother him all that much, through that noise he could do anything for he was well used to it, being a hobbit and all. It was the voice of Periwinkle that kept pulling him from deep concentration. It was rather disconcerting, as he couldn't find a logical reason for such a thing. With will reinforced, Frodo let his mind dive into the written word before him and get lost in it.
"Oh you little rascal!"
He clamped his eyes shut, sighing deeply. No, no matter what, he would not be able to concentrate this afternoon. He let the book fall shut in his lap, and bringing the pipe to his lips he looked out over onto the meadow to where Periwinkle was. Of a sudden, he felt a strangeness become him, a deep calming in his soul that he'd not felt before, not ever.
Periwinkle sat amongst the grass, a warm smile on her soft chiselled lips, eyes brown like deep red-wood and hair black like the night, but gleaming a burnished red in the sun. The little children that played about her had threaded little daisies through her hair, and they looked as stars in the moonless night sky.
Luthien Tinuviel. His mind recalled a snatch of the beautiful song that Aragorn had sung all those years ago. Tinuviel, Tinuviel.
He shook himself, blinking and wondering at that. He supposed there was a certain lyric beauty in the image before him, of the young lass amongst the grass and so much a vision of the beauty of the Shire that he loved. There was something about it that was very comforting to him, and he felt he could sit and watch this particular scene for some time without tiring of it. All in all, it made him smile. She is another part of the Shire that eases my pains, he thought. Yes, that is it.
Periwinkle's flowery dress swept low, curls tumbling down her shoulders, and she clapped her hands in time as she sang with the children. The children bounced and sang, their voices carrying over the grass. He knew the song; it was a song about cows jumping over moons.
"Well, I shan't get any more reading done out here today," he said to himself, and slowly and quietly he lowered himself down from the tree. As his feet met the grass below, they snapped a twig laying there. The full crack echoed against the trees behind him, and the hobbits in the meadow stopped their singing and looked up.
At that moment Perry's face lit up, a broad smile gracing her.
"Well, it's Mr. Baggins," she said, more for the children than for anyone else. "Say hello to him my dears."
He gave a somewhat stiff smile, but seeing the glee on the children's faces he walked over, tucking his empty pipe into his shirt pocket. He knelt down in the grass with the children, and they clapped happily.
"Hello Mr. Baggins!" said the girl he knew as Poppy.
"Mr. Baggins!" echoed Holly.
"You saved everyone," said Poppy, placing her little hands on his shoulder. "Are you a hero like Mr. Pippin?"
"I'm just a regular hobbit like anyone else in the Shire, Poppy."
"I wouldn't say that," said Periwinkle, suddenly paying extra close attention to a daisy in her hair.
"Sing us a song!" cried Holly, leaping up and down. Poppy was at the other side of Frodo, already beginning to thread daisies into his hair.
Frodo tilted his brows, looking a little awkward. "I'm not very good at singing."
Periwinkle frowned at this, but said nothing.
"We'll make you a crown," said Poppy, heedless to his decline. "And you can be King Aragorn. We can be the princesses."
Frodo couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of playing the role of his old friend Strider. He cleared this throat then, trying to look serious, but laughter clearly in his features. "Er. does that mean your Aunt Perry is Queen Arwen?"
"Of course!" said Holly. To this, Periwinkle only blushed. "Now a song!"
"Oh don't bother Mr. Baggins with that," Periwinkle said suddenly, placing her hand on Holly's. "I'll sing you a song, all right?"
Holly pouted. "But I want Mr. Baggins to sing."
"I've not done it in so long that I've become terrible at it," said Frodo. He smiled a little then. "If I did sing, it would sound so bad it would make you cry."
"What if I sing you a song," Perry said, "and then Mr. Baggins can tell us a story?"
The children nodded and bounced, agreeing to this.
Frodo looked to Perry then, and she began to clap and sing to the children. He could tell she was nervous as her voice trilled in places in a tense way, but despite this there was an irresistible honesty in her voice that he found endearing. The girls leapt in the grass and threw daisy petals about. After a time they lost their shyness (what little they had) and started climbing on Frodo's frame, on his shoulders, or snuggling to his side momentarily before leaping off into another bout of dancing. All this time Perry sang, growing more confident as she went. Frodo was content to watch the scene before him, and to receive more flowers in his hair from the children.
They played there for some hours, the sun hot on their backs, the children weaving royal finery out of grass and flowers and placing them on the supposed royal heads of Hobbiton. After a time it began to grow a little too hot for play in the open sunshine and the children began to lose their vigour, complaining about their hunger. Frodo stood up slowly, folding his hands behind his back and looking down at the children and Periwinkle.
"Well," he said. "If you're so hungry, perhaps you would like to have some lunch with me at Bag End?"
The children's eyes lit up and they jumped to their feet, clapping and dancing. Bag Hall was regarded highly amongst the hobbits, as most thought it filled with treasure. It was similar to being invited to the house of royalty, and the children made no attempts at hiding their excitement. Periwinkle stood, skirt swishing about her ankles, and she sighed, tilting her head.
"Now girls, you know we shouldn't impose on dear Mr. Baggins. We've inconvenienced him enough." With a worn smile she picked a dry tuft of grass from his dark brown hair.
"Nonsense," said Frodo. "I've rather had plenty of time to myself these past months, and an afternoon filled with such fair company should do me some good." Periwinkle blushed, partially hiding her face behind a cluster of daisies that sat in her hair. The girls leapt up and down again, tugging on Frodo and Periwinkle's clothes in glee. Frodo clapped his hands finally, rubbing them together. "Come on then," he said. "To Bag End!"
The children raced onwards across the meadow, and as Periwinkle stood to run after them, Frodo got to his feet and caught her arm.
"Uh - one moment Miss Periwinkle."
"Perry," she said with a shy smile.
"Yes." He returned it with one of his own.
"I mean it, Mr. Baggins," Periwinkle said suddenly. "If we're imposing-"
"No no no," Frodo said, patting her hand. His eyes gleamed and he felt his breath grow hot. He fought it all away and swallowed. "I wanted to thank you for uhm - not pressing me with the matter of singing."
Her expression cleared. "Oh, I see."
"Yes," he said, and nodded.
"I won't pretend to know your reasons," she said gently, taking his hand in hers. "I know there's a lot of things you feel that no one rightly understands here. Least of all me." She shrugged. "Just know that someone in this stuffy town won't question you or think you're odd. Even if it is just a farming girl from down the road."
It was one of the most wonderful things Frodo had heard in - well months. He'd not heard such comforting words since he'd been with Gandalf last.
"I think this farming girl must be wise beyond her reckoning," Frodo said with a smile.
They stood there for a moment, regarding each other quietly, until the demanding cries of the children broke their reveries.
"Come on Auntie Perry!" cried Holly. "Our lunch shall be afternoon TEA if we don't hurry up!"
Both Perry and Frodo laughed at this and they caught up to the girls who tumbled across the meadow eagerly.
Their walk to Bag Hall was more like a procession, with Frodo escorting a wildly blushing Periwinkle by the arm, the children leaping ahead of them throwing daisies and petals in the air. Frodo had been swept into the simple innocence of the moment, and when a voice called out over the road to Bag Hall, Frodo felt a blush redden his cheeks.
"Look, it's Prince Frodo!"
Frodo gave a sheepish look to the fair tall hobbit that stood there. It was Pippin Took, grinning like the wolf among sheep, arms folded and pipe hanging from his mouth.
"Hello, Pippin," Frodo said, recovering some of his unflappability. "What brings you here this afternoon?"
"Oh, I just wanted to discuss some business with you regarding Hobbiton," said Pippin in a very official manner. At this Frodo sniggered. This was the first time Frodo had ever done so in all these years. Previously when Pippin had been in this capacity, Frodo's mind and thoughts had been elsewhere. After his morning in the field, he felt renewed somehow, and to him Pippin's seriousness seemed incredibly funny to him. Pippin's proud look fell.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing, nothing," said Frodo, patting Pippin on the shoulder with a smirk. "It's just humbling to have Shirriff Pippin before me."
Pippin blushed now, nodding as they all walked towards Bag Hall. "Yes, it's all very amusing, but someone has to do the job, Frodo."
"It's fine, Pippin," Frodo said. "I'm taking these fine ladies to lunch at Bag Hall, and you shall join us."
The little girls were a little afraid of Pippin, for he was the tallest Hobbit they had ever seen. He towered over Frodo by a few good inches, and seemed more like a delicate boned beardless Dwarf than a Halfling. Nevertheless, his kind green eyes and sweet smile soon cured the girls of any fear they felt, especially since his mode of speech and bright expressions were so amusing. He became suddenly bashful, and he tilted his head, scratching behind his pointed ear and kicking the dirt road with his foot.
"Uh. Perry. Have ye seen Diamond of late?"
Perry looked as if she was struggling to contain a grin, and she glanced to Frodo who also looked similarly amused. She cleared her throat and forced a blasé look. "Oh, why do you ask that, Mr. Peregrin?"
"No reason, no reason," said Pippin, shaking his head thoroughly. "It's just the whole lot of us are going to the Green Dragon tomorrow and I was wonderin' if she was comin' too."
Not being able to help it, Perry giggled. "Doesn't she always come to the Green Dragon with us?"
Pippin blushed wildly. "Yes, but it wouldn't be the same without her, you know."
"Yes I think we know very well," smirked Frodo.
Pippin huffed, very red in the cheeks, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Well! This is right treatment for a hero of the War!"
Holly took that moment to pipe up, "Frodo's a hero too."
Pippin double glanced at the child, and then looked up to Frodo, who was looking rather embarrassed. "Ahh, speaking gallantries of yerself are ye Frodo?"
"Of course not, Pip."
"Aunt Perry told us the stories you told her," said Poppy. "About Frodo and the spider and the terrible monster in the castle!"
Obviously Perry had altered the tale for the girls, and he didn't blame her for that at all. The real story was far too terrifying to tell to children, and they would learn the truth in time.
"That's how Frodo lost his finger," said Holly.
"Yes, yes it was," said Pippin.
"Funny thing was, I didn't think anybody *knew* about the spider and the castle," said Frodo, feigning curiosity and speaking doubly. "I wonder who told them."
Pippin blushed and shrugged. "Well, it's not exactly a secret, Frodo."
Frodo lifted a brow and nudged Pippin in the shoulder. "Yes, well, we shall speak of it later."
The band of hobbits made their way to Bag Hall, and upon entering it the children ran in with excited shouts and squeals. Holly ran straight for a shelf full of bric-a-brac, holding a little carving of an Oliphaunt and gazing at it with curiosity. Poppy was running her hand down a sheathed sword, fingers tangling in the leather laces and feeling them gently. Perry chased after them, skirt ruffling wildly, and the girls split up and ran. Poppy hid behind Frodo's sitting chair and Holly climbed up upon his sofa and dove underneath a cushion. Perry ran to Holly, pulling her from the cushion, and as she turned around, Poppy squealed with delight. The chase was terribly entertaining to the little girl. Perry let out a sigh, stomping over to Poppy and pulling her out from behind the chair gently. She put down Holly, straightening out Poppy's mussed dress, and Holly was already to the sitting table, playing with a rather ornate smoking pipe. It was decorated with silver and green, and was gorgeous to the eye.
"Now just you behave yerselves!" she cried, looking around to find Holly. "Holly! Put that down, that's precious!"
Frodo turned, instinctively flinching at the word. It wasn't unnoticed by Pippin, who patted the smaller hobbit on the shoulder before making his way to the hearth to stuff his pipe with some weed. Sighing, Frodo folded his arms, looking sternly at the girls.
"Now you two. if you misbehave I shan't be able to tell you a story after lunch, will I?"
The little girls put down whatever they were fiddling with, and toddled over to Frodo, looking up at him with guilty blue eyes.
"Sorry Frodo," they said, shuffling their feet and frowning at themselves.
"It's all right," smiled Frodo, ruffling Poppy's hair and patting Holly on the shoulder. "I remember the first time I came here to live with my Uncle Bilbo all those years ago, and I was just as naughty."
"Were you?" said Holly.
"You can count on it," said Pippin. "You'll have to get him to tell you about the time he blew on his Uncle Bilbo's pipe and made a right mess."
The children giggled, and Perry smiled at the thought of a tiny Frodo running amok in the same room all those years ago. Frodo blushed a little at the memory and nodded.
"Thankfully, old Bilbo was a nice fellow and didn't mind because he understood what children are like. And so do I, but I won't have you misbehaving. You're such nice girls; I think you'd like to be good, wouldn't you?"
The girls smiled and nodded, eyes glowing with a grown adoration for the handsome hobbit. They hugged his legs and snuggled to his thighs, and their little noses digging into his legs tickled him. He chuckled, patting the girls on the head.
"Come on then, why don't you sit down in front of Perry here, and she can tell you a story while I go into the kitchen and prepare us something to eat?"
The girls nodded, and Perry frowned with embarrassment at Frodo.
"I'm sorry about that."
"Never mind," Frodo said. "Children will be children. You rest yourself there and I'll get something for you to eat, whilst Pippin tells me about his business."
"Thank you," said Perry with a worn smile. Frodo returned the smile, appreciating the fall of Perry's skirt and the way the flowers made her olive skin look like the colour of warm tea. He pulled his attention away from Perry and back to the tasks at hand. He looked to Pippin, who lifted his brows and gave a cheeky smile. Frodo sighed, striding into the kitchen out of earshot of his other guests.
"Now, what's troubling you Pip?"
"Uh - just this business of rebuilding the old mill. I'm having a terrible time trying to get the bricks in from the river and I was wonderin' if you could help me organise some more help."
"Oh, of course, of course," Frodo said. "I'll organise that tomorrow. We'll all be a bit busy tonight I think."
"Oh, aye!" Pippin smiled broadly. "Nothin' like good ale and good company, as is always said." Frodo smiled to his friend and nodded. "I expect you'll be escorting Miss Periwinkle to the Inn tonight?"
Frodo blinked at Pippin. "What makes you think that?"
The tall fair hobbit tilted his head and shrugged. "Well, correct me if I'm mistaken, but this is the second day in a row you've spent time with the lovely lass. And it's very well known that she's as fetching as they come-"
"Oh dear," sighed Frodo, rubbing his face in his hands. "Is this a conspiracy?"
Pippin looked suddenly bewildered. "Frodo?"
"First Sam and Rosie, and now you - and didn't you tell Perry about our journey?"
"Ooh, that." Pippin blushed in shame, "I am sorry, Frodo. She was just so worried about you after you came back, and she was wondering what could have changed you so. Merry and I thought it was so good of her to care. that's a rare thing, you know Frodo. So we told her about it."
Frodo nodded, the worry still in his features. He was sharing out cakes, bread and cheese, adding some fresh fruit to the plates as well; sliced apples and pears. "What exactly did you tell her?"
Pippin shuffled his feet, looking anywhere but at his cousin's face.
"Peregrin Took. you shall tell me what you told her!"
Pippin's blush turned scarlet and he folded his hands behind his back, looking to the floor as he mumbled. "Everythin'."
The apple Frodo was holding flew out of his stumbling hands and the knife he held slipped. The blade nicked his finger, and he let out a little yelp, dropping the knife and putting the cut to his mouth, wincing. Pippin returned the screwed up expression, and Frodo could clearly remember seeing that expression in the caves of Moria. He sighed, wagging his hand, not noticing that Perry had come in from the sitting room like a dashing doe.
"Mr. Baggins!" she cried, hands to her mouth, "Oh dear me! You hurt yourself!" Pippin backed away as Perry raced past, taking Frodo's hand and examining it with a worried pout. "Oh look at that! By the time you're an old hobbit you shan't have any fingers left!"
He looked suddenly sheepish. "It's all right, Perry, it's just a little cut."
"Nonsense! It's gaping, look at it! Let me wrap that up! Where do you keep your bandages?"
"In that cupboard," said Pippin before Frodo could answer.
Perry swished about quickly, dark curls bouncing, tutting and shaking her head. "My, my. Male-folk are a danger in the kitchen, whether they be good cooks or no! There we are." She put her hand out. "Give me your hand." Frodo just stared at her. This shy retiring young lady-hobbit had suddenly turned about and showed him a side that he wasn't aware existed. He didn't dislike it, in fact it reminded him much of Sam Gamgee. "Come on, Frodo. your hand!" He sighed, placing his hand in hers, and she began wrapping it deftly. When she was finished, she patted his palm and sighed. "Now off to the sitting room with you whilst I finish up here."
"Uh."
"Go on, you can tell the story. You're better at it than I, no doubt, and I'm sure I'm better in the kitchen than you'll ever be."
"She's right, Frodo," said Pippin, suddenly amused by the situation. "She learnt all she knows from Old Mother Proudfoot."
Perry nodded. "Indeed."
Frodo sighed, totally at a loss in this situation, and he shrugged. "Very well. Just - don't worry yourself too much over the lunch, Perry."
"I'll worry over the lunch, you go tell tales. Go on."
And so Perry Proudfoot marched Frodo from the kitchen, Pippin Took close on this tail, for the first time showing Frodo the firm will she had under the demure lady-hobbit exterior. A few moments later she called them into the kitchen, the lunches set at the dining table with warm cups of tea and fresh water for the children. Pippin whistled, folding his arms.
"Well that's a nicely set table."
If it were possible for Frodo to give an ill look, (though with his angelic features it was very difficult for him to look sour at any time), it happened right at that moment. It lasted only a moment though, for the children grabbed his sleeves and tugged them with plaintive cries.
"I want to sit next to Frodo!" said Poppy and Holly, both jumping on their hobbit feet.
Frodo sighed with a smile. "You can both sit next to me, how is that?"
The girls cheered, and Perry put their plates in front of them as they sat either side of Frodo at the head of the table. Pippin sat across from Perry, and he winked at her as he began to start on the cheese and bread. She shook her head with a knowing smile, nibbling at a piece of apple. The children proceeded to tell their friend Mr. Pippin all about their playing in the field that day, of Frodo as King Aragorn and his proclamations as the wise King of Gondor. Pippin fought to keep in his sniggers, and Frodo blushed fully, not having the heart to silence the children on such games. They talked of Queen Arwen (Perry) making fineries of flowers and grass for them, and the dances that the princesses did in celebration of the New Age. Conversation then swung to what would be taking place that evening, for it was the end of the run of hard working days and it was a day every week that the hobbits of the Shire would descend upon their favourite place to drink and be merry till the late hours of the morning, the female hobbit folk included (for during the rest of the week only the male-folk habituated the place as a rule). Frodo would be at the Green Dragon often on this day, mainly out of courtesy to his cousins who wished him to be out of his hole for a time per week. Most of the Shire-folk accepted him gingerly, and despite Frodo's better understanding of it all, their distance of him would still hurt. He thanked his Ancestors that at least they were civil. It was something to be grateful for. ~~*~~
Author: nacey
Email: tosh@opera.iinet.net.au
Category: Drama, Romance, AU Rating: PG
Spoilers: All six books. Summary: The story of Frodo's life after the journey of the Ring. DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JRR Tolkien, and Tolkien Enterprises. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author notes: This story is not properly edited. The final version may differ greatly from the one you are reading right now. This is just to air the idea and to see what others think of it, so I know whether to bother publishing it on the net or whether to keep it amongst my close friends. I very much thought that Lord of the Rings didn't need fan-fiction when I was reading it, until I read the ending. Then I saw the movies and it inspired me to write this little "Alternate-Universe" fic. I think that the ending that Tolkien did was absolutely perfect, and this is just my attempt at a different idea of what it could be like, mainly borne of my experience being amongst and being a person living with depression (I believe that poor Frodo had one of the most chronic cases of Post-Traumatic Stress that ever was). Constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms. Website: http://www.nancylorenz.com/lothlorien/
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Chapter Two - A Day on the Meadow
Despite Sam and Rosie's interferences, Frodo had felt in an unusually good mood that evening which lasted well into the next day. It was quite a warm day that followed; the air was warm and a touch stifling. It was quite like the day that Gandalf had visited Bilbo and Frodo before the Ring mess had begun. Whether Frodo knew this, or whether it was something that touched his unconscious, it wasn't certain, but he felt the need to pull out one of his favourite old books and sit in the crook of the old tree he used to play under when he was a hobbit-child. He wasn't quite as nimble as he used to be, and he wasn't as quick up the tree, but being a hobbit he was more agile than a human of his equivalent age.
As he read the book, all about the oldest hobbits, he stuffed his pipe with some fragrant Southfarthing pipeweed, the sound of sparrows twittering on the wing filling his ears. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there reading, when the sound of shrill hobbit-children laughter rang through the air. He rested his book in his lap, looking out onto the meadow that he'd gazed out on many a time before.
From the road leading towards New Row and the rest of the Shire three hobbits broke into a run, tumbling out into the tall lush green grass that was scattered with daisies and dandelions. Two of the number were children - girls, with long golden hair that was so unusual but common now amongst the folk of the Shire, and a hobbit-lady. The last was well-curved lass in a summer-dress, the dark waved hair unmistakable. Periwinkle and her nieces, Frodo thought. Well it is a nice day; naturally they'd enjoy a nice run in the grass. He put his attention back to the book, fixing his thoughts to the words that ran on the pages. The children's laughter and talk didn't bother him all that much, through that noise he could do anything for he was well used to it, being a hobbit and all. It was the voice of Periwinkle that kept pulling him from deep concentration. It was rather disconcerting, as he couldn't find a logical reason for such a thing. With will reinforced, Frodo let his mind dive into the written word before him and get lost in it.
"Oh you little rascal!"
He clamped his eyes shut, sighing deeply. No, no matter what, he would not be able to concentrate this afternoon. He let the book fall shut in his lap, and bringing the pipe to his lips he looked out over onto the meadow to where Periwinkle was. Of a sudden, he felt a strangeness become him, a deep calming in his soul that he'd not felt before, not ever.
Periwinkle sat amongst the grass, a warm smile on her soft chiselled lips, eyes brown like deep red-wood and hair black like the night, but gleaming a burnished red in the sun. The little children that played about her had threaded little daisies through her hair, and they looked as stars in the moonless night sky.
Luthien Tinuviel. His mind recalled a snatch of the beautiful song that Aragorn had sung all those years ago. Tinuviel, Tinuviel.
He shook himself, blinking and wondering at that. He supposed there was a certain lyric beauty in the image before him, of the young lass amongst the grass and so much a vision of the beauty of the Shire that he loved. There was something about it that was very comforting to him, and he felt he could sit and watch this particular scene for some time without tiring of it. All in all, it made him smile. She is another part of the Shire that eases my pains, he thought. Yes, that is it.
Periwinkle's flowery dress swept low, curls tumbling down her shoulders, and she clapped her hands in time as she sang with the children. The children bounced and sang, their voices carrying over the grass. He knew the song; it was a song about cows jumping over moons.
"Well, I shan't get any more reading done out here today," he said to himself, and slowly and quietly he lowered himself down from the tree. As his feet met the grass below, they snapped a twig laying there. The full crack echoed against the trees behind him, and the hobbits in the meadow stopped their singing and looked up.
At that moment Perry's face lit up, a broad smile gracing her.
"Well, it's Mr. Baggins," she said, more for the children than for anyone else. "Say hello to him my dears."
He gave a somewhat stiff smile, but seeing the glee on the children's faces he walked over, tucking his empty pipe into his shirt pocket. He knelt down in the grass with the children, and they clapped happily.
"Hello Mr. Baggins!" said the girl he knew as Poppy.
"Mr. Baggins!" echoed Holly.
"You saved everyone," said Poppy, placing her little hands on his shoulder. "Are you a hero like Mr. Pippin?"
"I'm just a regular hobbit like anyone else in the Shire, Poppy."
"I wouldn't say that," said Periwinkle, suddenly paying extra close attention to a daisy in her hair.
"Sing us a song!" cried Holly, leaping up and down. Poppy was at the other side of Frodo, already beginning to thread daisies into his hair.
Frodo tilted his brows, looking a little awkward. "I'm not very good at singing."
Periwinkle frowned at this, but said nothing.
"We'll make you a crown," said Poppy, heedless to his decline. "And you can be King Aragorn. We can be the princesses."
Frodo couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of playing the role of his old friend Strider. He cleared this throat then, trying to look serious, but laughter clearly in his features. "Er. does that mean your Aunt Perry is Queen Arwen?"
"Of course!" said Holly. To this, Periwinkle only blushed. "Now a song!"
"Oh don't bother Mr. Baggins with that," Periwinkle said suddenly, placing her hand on Holly's. "I'll sing you a song, all right?"
Holly pouted. "But I want Mr. Baggins to sing."
"I've not done it in so long that I've become terrible at it," said Frodo. He smiled a little then. "If I did sing, it would sound so bad it would make you cry."
"What if I sing you a song," Perry said, "and then Mr. Baggins can tell us a story?"
The children nodded and bounced, agreeing to this.
Frodo looked to Perry then, and she began to clap and sing to the children. He could tell she was nervous as her voice trilled in places in a tense way, but despite this there was an irresistible honesty in her voice that he found endearing. The girls leapt in the grass and threw daisy petals about. After a time they lost their shyness (what little they had) and started climbing on Frodo's frame, on his shoulders, or snuggling to his side momentarily before leaping off into another bout of dancing. All this time Perry sang, growing more confident as she went. Frodo was content to watch the scene before him, and to receive more flowers in his hair from the children.
They played there for some hours, the sun hot on their backs, the children weaving royal finery out of grass and flowers and placing them on the supposed royal heads of Hobbiton. After a time it began to grow a little too hot for play in the open sunshine and the children began to lose their vigour, complaining about their hunger. Frodo stood up slowly, folding his hands behind his back and looking down at the children and Periwinkle.
"Well," he said. "If you're so hungry, perhaps you would like to have some lunch with me at Bag End?"
The children's eyes lit up and they jumped to their feet, clapping and dancing. Bag Hall was regarded highly amongst the hobbits, as most thought it filled with treasure. It was similar to being invited to the house of royalty, and the children made no attempts at hiding their excitement. Periwinkle stood, skirt swishing about her ankles, and she sighed, tilting her head.
"Now girls, you know we shouldn't impose on dear Mr. Baggins. We've inconvenienced him enough." With a worn smile she picked a dry tuft of grass from his dark brown hair.
"Nonsense," said Frodo. "I've rather had plenty of time to myself these past months, and an afternoon filled with such fair company should do me some good." Periwinkle blushed, partially hiding her face behind a cluster of daisies that sat in her hair. The girls leapt up and down again, tugging on Frodo and Periwinkle's clothes in glee. Frodo clapped his hands finally, rubbing them together. "Come on then," he said. "To Bag End!"
The children raced onwards across the meadow, and as Periwinkle stood to run after them, Frodo got to his feet and caught her arm.
"Uh - one moment Miss Periwinkle."
"Perry," she said with a shy smile.
"Yes." He returned it with one of his own.
"I mean it, Mr. Baggins," Periwinkle said suddenly. "If we're imposing-"
"No no no," Frodo said, patting her hand. His eyes gleamed and he felt his breath grow hot. He fought it all away and swallowed. "I wanted to thank you for uhm - not pressing me with the matter of singing."
Her expression cleared. "Oh, I see."
"Yes," he said, and nodded.
"I won't pretend to know your reasons," she said gently, taking his hand in hers. "I know there's a lot of things you feel that no one rightly understands here. Least of all me." She shrugged. "Just know that someone in this stuffy town won't question you or think you're odd. Even if it is just a farming girl from down the road."
It was one of the most wonderful things Frodo had heard in - well months. He'd not heard such comforting words since he'd been with Gandalf last.
"I think this farming girl must be wise beyond her reckoning," Frodo said with a smile.
They stood there for a moment, regarding each other quietly, until the demanding cries of the children broke their reveries.
"Come on Auntie Perry!" cried Holly. "Our lunch shall be afternoon TEA if we don't hurry up!"
Both Perry and Frodo laughed at this and they caught up to the girls who tumbled across the meadow eagerly.
Their walk to Bag Hall was more like a procession, with Frodo escorting a wildly blushing Periwinkle by the arm, the children leaping ahead of them throwing daisies and petals in the air. Frodo had been swept into the simple innocence of the moment, and when a voice called out over the road to Bag Hall, Frodo felt a blush redden his cheeks.
"Look, it's Prince Frodo!"
Frodo gave a sheepish look to the fair tall hobbit that stood there. It was Pippin Took, grinning like the wolf among sheep, arms folded and pipe hanging from his mouth.
"Hello, Pippin," Frodo said, recovering some of his unflappability. "What brings you here this afternoon?"
"Oh, I just wanted to discuss some business with you regarding Hobbiton," said Pippin in a very official manner. At this Frodo sniggered. This was the first time Frodo had ever done so in all these years. Previously when Pippin had been in this capacity, Frodo's mind and thoughts had been elsewhere. After his morning in the field, he felt renewed somehow, and to him Pippin's seriousness seemed incredibly funny to him. Pippin's proud look fell.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing, nothing," said Frodo, patting Pippin on the shoulder with a smirk. "It's just humbling to have Shirriff Pippin before me."
Pippin blushed now, nodding as they all walked towards Bag Hall. "Yes, it's all very amusing, but someone has to do the job, Frodo."
"It's fine, Pippin," Frodo said. "I'm taking these fine ladies to lunch at Bag Hall, and you shall join us."
The little girls were a little afraid of Pippin, for he was the tallest Hobbit they had ever seen. He towered over Frodo by a few good inches, and seemed more like a delicate boned beardless Dwarf than a Halfling. Nevertheless, his kind green eyes and sweet smile soon cured the girls of any fear they felt, especially since his mode of speech and bright expressions were so amusing. He became suddenly bashful, and he tilted his head, scratching behind his pointed ear and kicking the dirt road with his foot.
"Uh. Perry. Have ye seen Diamond of late?"
Perry looked as if she was struggling to contain a grin, and she glanced to Frodo who also looked similarly amused. She cleared her throat and forced a blasé look. "Oh, why do you ask that, Mr. Peregrin?"
"No reason, no reason," said Pippin, shaking his head thoroughly. "It's just the whole lot of us are going to the Green Dragon tomorrow and I was wonderin' if she was comin' too."
Not being able to help it, Perry giggled. "Doesn't she always come to the Green Dragon with us?"
Pippin blushed wildly. "Yes, but it wouldn't be the same without her, you know."
"Yes I think we know very well," smirked Frodo.
Pippin huffed, very red in the cheeks, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Well! This is right treatment for a hero of the War!"
Holly took that moment to pipe up, "Frodo's a hero too."
Pippin double glanced at the child, and then looked up to Frodo, who was looking rather embarrassed. "Ahh, speaking gallantries of yerself are ye Frodo?"
"Of course not, Pip."
"Aunt Perry told us the stories you told her," said Poppy. "About Frodo and the spider and the terrible monster in the castle!"
Obviously Perry had altered the tale for the girls, and he didn't blame her for that at all. The real story was far too terrifying to tell to children, and they would learn the truth in time.
"That's how Frodo lost his finger," said Holly.
"Yes, yes it was," said Pippin.
"Funny thing was, I didn't think anybody *knew* about the spider and the castle," said Frodo, feigning curiosity and speaking doubly. "I wonder who told them."
Pippin blushed and shrugged. "Well, it's not exactly a secret, Frodo."
Frodo lifted a brow and nudged Pippin in the shoulder. "Yes, well, we shall speak of it later."
The band of hobbits made their way to Bag Hall, and upon entering it the children ran in with excited shouts and squeals. Holly ran straight for a shelf full of bric-a-brac, holding a little carving of an Oliphaunt and gazing at it with curiosity. Poppy was running her hand down a sheathed sword, fingers tangling in the leather laces and feeling them gently. Perry chased after them, skirt ruffling wildly, and the girls split up and ran. Poppy hid behind Frodo's sitting chair and Holly climbed up upon his sofa and dove underneath a cushion. Perry ran to Holly, pulling her from the cushion, and as she turned around, Poppy squealed with delight. The chase was terribly entertaining to the little girl. Perry let out a sigh, stomping over to Poppy and pulling her out from behind the chair gently. She put down Holly, straightening out Poppy's mussed dress, and Holly was already to the sitting table, playing with a rather ornate smoking pipe. It was decorated with silver and green, and was gorgeous to the eye.
"Now just you behave yerselves!" she cried, looking around to find Holly. "Holly! Put that down, that's precious!"
Frodo turned, instinctively flinching at the word. It wasn't unnoticed by Pippin, who patted the smaller hobbit on the shoulder before making his way to the hearth to stuff his pipe with some weed. Sighing, Frodo folded his arms, looking sternly at the girls.
"Now you two. if you misbehave I shan't be able to tell you a story after lunch, will I?"
The little girls put down whatever they were fiddling with, and toddled over to Frodo, looking up at him with guilty blue eyes.
"Sorry Frodo," they said, shuffling their feet and frowning at themselves.
"It's all right," smiled Frodo, ruffling Poppy's hair and patting Holly on the shoulder. "I remember the first time I came here to live with my Uncle Bilbo all those years ago, and I was just as naughty."
"Were you?" said Holly.
"You can count on it," said Pippin. "You'll have to get him to tell you about the time he blew on his Uncle Bilbo's pipe and made a right mess."
The children giggled, and Perry smiled at the thought of a tiny Frodo running amok in the same room all those years ago. Frodo blushed a little at the memory and nodded.
"Thankfully, old Bilbo was a nice fellow and didn't mind because he understood what children are like. And so do I, but I won't have you misbehaving. You're such nice girls; I think you'd like to be good, wouldn't you?"
The girls smiled and nodded, eyes glowing with a grown adoration for the handsome hobbit. They hugged his legs and snuggled to his thighs, and their little noses digging into his legs tickled him. He chuckled, patting the girls on the head.
"Come on then, why don't you sit down in front of Perry here, and she can tell you a story while I go into the kitchen and prepare us something to eat?"
The girls nodded, and Perry frowned with embarrassment at Frodo.
"I'm sorry about that."
"Never mind," Frodo said. "Children will be children. You rest yourself there and I'll get something for you to eat, whilst Pippin tells me about his business."
"Thank you," said Perry with a worn smile. Frodo returned the smile, appreciating the fall of Perry's skirt and the way the flowers made her olive skin look like the colour of warm tea. He pulled his attention away from Perry and back to the tasks at hand. He looked to Pippin, who lifted his brows and gave a cheeky smile. Frodo sighed, striding into the kitchen out of earshot of his other guests.
"Now, what's troubling you Pip?"
"Uh - just this business of rebuilding the old mill. I'm having a terrible time trying to get the bricks in from the river and I was wonderin' if you could help me organise some more help."
"Oh, of course, of course," Frodo said. "I'll organise that tomorrow. We'll all be a bit busy tonight I think."
"Oh, aye!" Pippin smiled broadly. "Nothin' like good ale and good company, as is always said." Frodo smiled to his friend and nodded. "I expect you'll be escorting Miss Periwinkle to the Inn tonight?"
Frodo blinked at Pippin. "What makes you think that?"
The tall fair hobbit tilted his head and shrugged. "Well, correct me if I'm mistaken, but this is the second day in a row you've spent time with the lovely lass. And it's very well known that she's as fetching as they come-"
"Oh dear," sighed Frodo, rubbing his face in his hands. "Is this a conspiracy?"
Pippin looked suddenly bewildered. "Frodo?"
"First Sam and Rosie, and now you - and didn't you tell Perry about our journey?"
"Ooh, that." Pippin blushed in shame, "I am sorry, Frodo. She was just so worried about you after you came back, and she was wondering what could have changed you so. Merry and I thought it was so good of her to care. that's a rare thing, you know Frodo. So we told her about it."
Frodo nodded, the worry still in his features. He was sharing out cakes, bread and cheese, adding some fresh fruit to the plates as well; sliced apples and pears. "What exactly did you tell her?"
Pippin shuffled his feet, looking anywhere but at his cousin's face.
"Peregrin Took. you shall tell me what you told her!"
Pippin's blush turned scarlet and he folded his hands behind his back, looking to the floor as he mumbled. "Everythin'."
The apple Frodo was holding flew out of his stumbling hands and the knife he held slipped. The blade nicked his finger, and he let out a little yelp, dropping the knife and putting the cut to his mouth, wincing. Pippin returned the screwed up expression, and Frodo could clearly remember seeing that expression in the caves of Moria. He sighed, wagging his hand, not noticing that Perry had come in from the sitting room like a dashing doe.
"Mr. Baggins!" she cried, hands to her mouth, "Oh dear me! You hurt yourself!" Pippin backed away as Perry raced past, taking Frodo's hand and examining it with a worried pout. "Oh look at that! By the time you're an old hobbit you shan't have any fingers left!"
He looked suddenly sheepish. "It's all right, Perry, it's just a little cut."
"Nonsense! It's gaping, look at it! Let me wrap that up! Where do you keep your bandages?"
"In that cupboard," said Pippin before Frodo could answer.
Perry swished about quickly, dark curls bouncing, tutting and shaking her head. "My, my. Male-folk are a danger in the kitchen, whether they be good cooks or no! There we are." She put her hand out. "Give me your hand." Frodo just stared at her. This shy retiring young lady-hobbit had suddenly turned about and showed him a side that he wasn't aware existed. He didn't dislike it, in fact it reminded him much of Sam Gamgee. "Come on, Frodo. your hand!" He sighed, placing his hand in hers, and she began wrapping it deftly. When she was finished, she patted his palm and sighed. "Now off to the sitting room with you whilst I finish up here."
"Uh."
"Go on, you can tell the story. You're better at it than I, no doubt, and I'm sure I'm better in the kitchen than you'll ever be."
"She's right, Frodo," said Pippin, suddenly amused by the situation. "She learnt all she knows from Old Mother Proudfoot."
Perry nodded. "Indeed."
Frodo sighed, totally at a loss in this situation, and he shrugged. "Very well. Just - don't worry yourself too much over the lunch, Perry."
"I'll worry over the lunch, you go tell tales. Go on."
And so Perry Proudfoot marched Frodo from the kitchen, Pippin Took close on this tail, for the first time showing Frodo the firm will she had under the demure lady-hobbit exterior. A few moments later she called them into the kitchen, the lunches set at the dining table with warm cups of tea and fresh water for the children. Pippin whistled, folding his arms.
"Well that's a nicely set table."
If it were possible for Frodo to give an ill look, (though with his angelic features it was very difficult for him to look sour at any time), it happened right at that moment. It lasted only a moment though, for the children grabbed his sleeves and tugged them with plaintive cries.
"I want to sit next to Frodo!" said Poppy and Holly, both jumping on their hobbit feet.
Frodo sighed with a smile. "You can both sit next to me, how is that?"
The girls cheered, and Perry put their plates in front of them as they sat either side of Frodo at the head of the table. Pippin sat across from Perry, and he winked at her as he began to start on the cheese and bread. She shook her head with a knowing smile, nibbling at a piece of apple. The children proceeded to tell their friend Mr. Pippin all about their playing in the field that day, of Frodo as King Aragorn and his proclamations as the wise King of Gondor. Pippin fought to keep in his sniggers, and Frodo blushed fully, not having the heart to silence the children on such games. They talked of Queen Arwen (Perry) making fineries of flowers and grass for them, and the dances that the princesses did in celebration of the New Age. Conversation then swung to what would be taking place that evening, for it was the end of the run of hard working days and it was a day every week that the hobbits of the Shire would descend upon their favourite place to drink and be merry till the late hours of the morning, the female hobbit folk included (for during the rest of the week only the male-folk habituated the place as a rule). Frodo would be at the Green Dragon often on this day, mainly out of courtesy to his cousins who wished him to be out of his hole for a time per week. Most of the Shire-folk accepted him gingerly, and despite Frodo's better understanding of it all, their distance of him would still hurt. He thanked his Ancestors that at least they were civil. It was something to be grateful for. ~~*~~