Disclaimer: Middle-earth is Tolkien's. Elrond is Tolkien's. Gandalf is Tolkien's. The elves are Tolkien's. The orcs (thank God!) are Tolkien's. Merry is Tolkien's. Pippin is Tolkien's. Frodo is Tolkien's. Rivendell is Tolkien's. Crickhollow is Tolkien's. The Shire is Tolkien's. The mushrooms from the Shire are Tolkien's.
Apryl, however, is mine. Corryn is mine. The hot cocoa and marshmallows are also mine.
A/N: Sorry this is taking so long. I had several chapters done a while ago but I trashed them cause they weren't any good. Sorry.
Chapter 32
FOR LOVE OF MUSHROOMS
As night slowly faded to dawn, Apryl recalled something--travel only at night, lest unwanted eyes should be about. She could not remember who gave this advice though she thought it might have been intended for the Fellowship; perhaps Lord Elrond had said it, or Gandalf even. In any case, she thought it wise and called it to the attention of her two companions and they agreed readily, for they were weary and had gone far that night.
Merry fairly collapsed to the ground as Pippin heaved his pack from tired shoulders. Neither removed their cloaks, for winter was nigh and the world was cold. If anything, the hobbits wished for more outer garments, their thin clothes not at all up to the challenge of keeping the chill at bay. Apryl had spent near the latter part of the night forcing her teeth to cease their constant chattering, all the while dreaming of a hot cocoa and marshmallows.
"Couldn't we start a fire?" Pippin suddenly asked, glancing first to Merry and then to Apryl. Uncontrollable shivers were wracking his slight frame and he was doing all and more to try and still them. "It needn't be a large one," he assured his cousin, who looked doubtful, "just so that we might warm up a bit. Maybe eat something hot." As if in response to this question, Pippin's stomach growled pathetically. Apryl's answered in turn. Both looked at Merry, their eyes wide and pleading. Apryl didn't think she'd ever been this cold.
Not true, Apryl, the girl reminded herself, recalling several winters past when the family had gone to the mountains to sled. She had trekked across a supposedly sturdy sheet of ice but found, too late, that it would not support her weight and she found herself knee-deep in freezing water. It was quite a hike back to the van and by the time she got there her feet were numb, her body frozen, and her mind in pain.
Her chattering lips upturned into an embarrassed smile. If she thought back to that miserable day, her body seemed to warm all its very own now.
Besides, she thought, looking over to her companions, I have friends now. What is that old saying? "Misery enjoys company." She grinned. And misery certainly enjoys the company of hobbits.
"Always thinking of your stomach, Pip?" Merry was saying and he managed a slight smile. But he sighed, then, and looked at both of them apologetically. "Best not."
Apryl blinked. "Best not what?" she asked, sorry she had spaced.
Pip sighed, pulled his cloak tighter around her and sat back against their small outcropping of rock. "Build a fire."
Merry looked truly sorry. "As much as I want warmth, I'd sooner be cold than face an orc or something just as nasty."
Apryl's eyes widened in alarm and she glanced about her nervously. The idea of orcs and goblins . . . . She'd never really thought about it and suddenly it became such a horrifying reality. She couldn't even imagine what they looked like . . . well, she could but to see one, to talk of one and know they were out there somewhere, in the very world in which she was, frightened her more than she thought anything could.
She looked over at Merry and Pippin, only to find neither one all that concerned. As much as she wanted it to, it did nought to reassure her and she found herself continuously glancing over her shoulder. Not until she spied the rays of the rising sun was her heart lightened. Slowly, her fear fled as dawn took hold of the land and her breathing eased.
She laughed at herself for being a cowardly fool, for orcs do not travel in the light of the day and even if they had she still would not have feared. The sun often banishes nighttime's fears.
Apryl smiled and glanced over at Pippin, only to find him rummaging through his pack and mumbling to himself. She spied Merry nearly asleep sitting up, for he was blinking his eyes rapidly, trying vainly to keep his them open.
"Eat before sleep," Pippin commented absently, seeing Merry, who in turn made a face at his cousin. Paying him no mind, Pippin continued to look about in his bag until he gave a cry and produced a smaller knapsack. "Here we are!" he said, pleased with himself, causing Merry to jerk and look about.
"What have you got there, Pip?" Merry demanded, somewhat irritated but more than a little curious.
"What else?" Pippin grinned. "Mushrooms!"
Merry was wide-awake. "Honest?" he gasped. Pippin merely smiled. "Oh, Pip!" he cried, grasping a handful of Pippin's clothing and dragging the younger hobbit over so that he might hug him. "Your well and good the best cousin I know, Peregrin Took!" Merry kissed him on the forehead.
"Get off, Merry," Pippin laughed, trying to fend his cousin off with one hand, while at the same time clutching the sack of mushrooms with the other. "Get off. I know it, I know it! Get off, I say!"
Apryl laughed aloud. "Hobbits and their love of mushrooms," she giggled. "I'd give him the mushrooms, Pip, if I were you," she advised, "otherwise I fear you'll never get him dislodged."
"Alright, alright!" Pippin cried, "Off with you, Merry, if you wish to have some." It was easy after that, for indeed Merry's love of mushrooms seemed greater than his love of Pippin.
As it turned out, Pippin had had the stash since they left Crickhollow, munching on them from time to time but for the most part saving them for a most desperate time.
"And we certainly are desperate," Merry said between mouthfuls. "Bless your soul, Pip, for thinking ahead!" Pippin was too busy eating to pay his cousin mind.
"Aren't you hungry, Apryl?" Merry wondered, not a moment later seeing that she hadn't touched a single one.
"I've never been too fond of mushrooms," she explained, looking at the pile dubiously.
Merry stopped in mid-bite; Pippin choked.
"Not fond of mushrooms?" Merry gasped, incredulous.
"What hobbit doesn't like mushrooms?" Pippin managed.
Apryl smiled at them; for they seemed truly horrified and it was . . . well, cute. "But I'm not a hobbit, remember," she told them.
"Well, no, but . . ." Pippin tried.
"Truly," Merry asked, almost in a hurt manner, "You don't like mushrooms?"
"Sorry," she said, "Not since I was little."
"They were mushrooms from your time, then? Your world?" Merry asked.
Apryl nodded.
"Perhaps you'll like these mushrooms," Pippin suggested, "They are from the Shire after all."
Apryl stopped. "From the Shire?"
Both hobbits nodded.
Apryl looked down at the three that were in her lap. They were large mushrooms, their crowns were larger than her palm, but then she was hobbit-sized and everything appeared larger than it used to be. Delicately, she picked one up, as if afraid she would break it. She stared at it. "The Shire?"
Merry and Pippin looked at one another, curious, but neither said ought. Finally, Apryl looked up at the two and caught their gaze.
"Would you guys do me a favor?" she asked, the mushroom still within her palm.
"What is it?" Pippin asked, though Merry nodded.
Apryl smiled a quiet smile. "After all this is through and you and Frodo and Sam return home, can I . . . can I go with you?" Pippin's eyes widened, and Merry smiled. "I have heard so much about the Shire," she told them, "And I would like to go there someday."
"Of cour--" Merry began, but Pippin cut him off.
"Only if you do me a favor in return," Pippin said, and Apryl caught a glint in his eye. She looked at him hard for a moment, and then:
"What?" she asked cautiously.
Pippin pointed at the mushrooms in her lap. "Eat."
*****
I'm having review withdrawals from the last several chapters. Review, please? I'd love you forever!
