Disclaimer - I don't own LOTR, it belongs to New Line Cinema, Peter Jackson, and most importantly, J.R.R Tolkein.
"Merry," Pippin panted as he bent over, planting some pipe weed, "Isn't it ironic that this is the same place where we realized we'd never done a hard day's work, and now we are, in the same place?" Merry looked over at Pippin from his own row. His back hurt, and he had lost all patience from the beginning.
"Yes Pip. Really ironic. How much longer do we have to do this?" He grumbled. Pippin straightened, rubbing his sore back. His face was smudged with dirt and the sweat that mingled with it. He could feel the streams of sweat running down his body in cool trails.
"We've only planted about 1/5 of it!" Pippin said, disheartened. Merry groaned, throwing down his shovel and plopping himself down on the ground. Pippin followed suit. "It feels like we've been working for three days!" He moaned. Merry looked over, glaring.
"Pip, it's been an hour. And you sat in the shade for half of it, remember?" Merry growled. Pippin cocked his head, smiling.
"Oh yes!" He recalled. Merry shook his head.
"Let's call it a day, Pip." Both Hobbits got up and went inside, each heading to their own room to bathe. After a little while, they regrouped in the kitchen. Merry began to look in the cabinets, pulling out whatever looked good. Pippin however, would steal the jars of food or bowls of food as Merry would duck back into the cabinet. He was munching a carrot when Merry straightened up and stole an apple from the bowl in front of him.
"Thanks for sharing, Pip." He teased. Pippin smiled and shrugged apologetically.
"Know what's missing?" Pippin asked with a giggle. Merry, who was lounging in his chair, looked over lazily.
"What?"
"Ale." Pippin said with a smack of his lips. Merry sat up quickly.
"You're right Pip. We need some to celebrate our ownership of Orthanc." Merry decided. It wasn't long before the Hobbits had managed to scrounge up some ale. A pint each, just as Pippin kept insisting. They clinked their mugs and began to drink. The warm ale flowed easily down their throats, the foaming tickling the walls of their mouths. Finally, they both headed up to bed with full, content stomachs. They climbed into their own beds and pulled up the covers.
"Merry?" Pippin whispered in the darkness. Merry had been lying propped up on his side, waiting.
"Yes Pip?" Pippin pulled the covers tighter around himself.
"Will you tell me a story?" Pippin asked. Merry smiled. He asked for a story every night.
"Sure Pippin. Do you remember when we were little? The first time we got into Farmer Maggot's crops?" Merry asked dreamily, lying down. He crossed his arms behind his head and rested his head in the middle.
"Not really." Pippin said, struggling to remember the occasion. Merry smiled.
"I do. Remember it like it was yesterday." Pippin smiled and snuggled a bit more, settling in the story.
"See, we were young. Probably about, say, eight years old."
"We were young!" Pippin injected in a surprised voice.
"Yup. Really young." Merry said patiently, used to interruptions. "Anyway, we were at Bag End, and Bilbo was watching us, because we were playing with Frodo. Frodo ended up overturning an entire jar of jelly (and it was a pretty big jar) and Bilbo was trying to clean him up. Frodo wasn't helping by smearing it on his jacket and screaming 'sandwich', but then again, we weren't helping either. We were hungry, so we kept asking for food. But Bilbo was so preoccupied, he just kept saying wait a minute. Then, we saw a cart passing, full of food. Instantly, we were out the door and following the cart. It was Farmer Maggot, who was too stingy with his own food. Wouldn't eat his own crops, just so he'd have more than enough. He went into his house, and we found the fields. We went in and started pulling stuff off vines, stuffing it into our mouths. When we found something new to eat, we'd throw the old thing away and pick up the new vegetable. After an hour, we were lying in the field, eating an apple each, when Farmer Maggot found the other stuff. He thought rabbits did it, and started screaming and yelling. But he followed the trail and found us. So we started to run! Down the hill and back towards the Shire. Course, Farmer Maggot chased us halfway there. But that first taste was enough. We were hooked." Merry said in content. He looked over. Pippin was asleep, dead to the world, his curls sprawling over his forehead. Merry grinned and turned over so he could see the moon.
"Night, Pip."
When morning came, the two Hobbits agreed to get back to work. They'd been laboring for three hours when they heard the sound of hooves beating the ground and turned. There was Faramir astride his horse, racing towards them. He dismounted shortly before reaching the Hobbits and waved in greeting. They ran over, glad for some new company.
"Faramir! What brings you to our fine establishment?" Asked Merry cheerfully, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops. Faramir smiled.
"Oh, well, the, uh, desire to see the country." Faramir stammered, his smile seemingly glued in place. Merry and Pippin glanced at each other and shook their heads. Faramir clasped his hands behind his back and began to shift back and forth. "Do you mind if I stay the night?" He asked after a moment of the two Halflings just staring at him. Pippin smiled.
"Your welcome to! We've got guest rooms!" He informed him. Faramir smiled, looking relieved.
"Thanks. Hey, need a hand?" He asked as he saw the unfinished rows of pipe weed.
"Sure, if you're up to it!" Merry said with a shrug. With Faramir's help, they got half of the pipe weed planted. After they had all bathed, they settled down in the kitchen and had a second dinner, then went into the living room. The Hobbits both settled down on the couch, and Faramir took a big chair away from windows.
"So how long are you staying?" Merry asked. Faramir smiled nervously and folded his hands.
"Just tonight."
"Why not stay a week? Have a real vacation?" Pippin suggested, taking a swig of his ale. Faramir coughed and peeked out the window.
"Best to keep moving." He admitted. Merry sighed.
"You know, Eowyn seemed like a real nice person." Faramir smiled.
"No one said she can't be a nice person sometimes. It's just...today she was being TOO nice. I figured she was plotting something, since I figure she's still angry about me not accepting Isengard. So I left." Faramir confided. The Hobbits nodded in agreement.
"Probably better that way." Pippin said with a confident nod.
The next morning, Faramir rode away, towards Mirkwood, and the Hobbits stared out over their half planted fields.
"I hate work." Pippin said miserably. Merry clapped him on the back.
"Same Pip. But it's something we've got to do." He said grimly.
"Merry," Pippin panted as he bent over, planting some pipe weed, "Isn't it ironic that this is the same place where we realized we'd never done a hard day's work, and now we are, in the same place?" Merry looked over at Pippin from his own row. His back hurt, and he had lost all patience from the beginning.
"Yes Pip. Really ironic. How much longer do we have to do this?" He grumbled. Pippin straightened, rubbing his sore back. His face was smudged with dirt and the sweat that mingled with it. He could feel the streams of sweat running down his body in cool trails.
"We've only planted about 1/5 of it!" Pippin said, disheartened. Merry groaned, throwing down his shovel and plopping himself down on the ground. Pippin followed suit. "It feels like we've been working for three days!" He moaned. Merry looked over, glaring.
"Pip, it's been an hour. And you sat in the shade for half of it, remember?" Merry growled. Pippin cocked his head, smiling.
"Oh yes!" He recalled. Merry shook his head.
"Let's call it a day, Pip." Both Hobbits got up and went inside, each heading to their own room to bathe. After a little while, they regrouped in the kitchen. Merry began to look in the cabinets, pulling out whatever looked good. Pippin however, would steal the jars of food or bowls of food as Merry would duck back into the cabinet. He was munching a carrot when Merry straightened up and stole an apple from the bowl in front of him.
"Thanks for sharing, Pip." He teased. Pippin smiled and shrugged apologetically.
"Know what's missing?" Pippin asked with a giggle. Merry, who was lounging in his chair, looked over lazily.
"What?"
"Ale." Pippin said with a smack of his lips. Merry sat up quickly.
"You're right Pip. We need some to celebrate our ownership of Orthanc." Merry decided. It wasn't long before the Hobbits had managed to scrounge up some ale. A pint each, just as Pippin kept insisting. They clinked their mugs and began to drink. The warm ale flowed easily down their throats, the foaming tickling the walls of their mouths. Finally, they both headed up to bed with full, content stomachs. They climbed into their own beds and pulled up the covers.
"Merry?" Pippin whispered in the darkness. Merry had been lying propped up on his side, waiting.
"Yes Pip?" Pippin pulled the covers tighter around himself.
"Will you tell me a story?" Pippin asked. Merry smiled. He asked for a story every night.
"Sure Pippin. Do you remember when we were little? The first time we got into Farmer Maggot's crops?" Merry asked dreamily, lying down. He crossed his arms behind his head and rested his head in the middle.
"Not really." Pippin said, struggling to remember the occasion. Merry smiled.
"I do. Remember it like it was yesterday." Pippin smiled and snuggled a bit more, settling in the story.
"See, we were young. Probably about, say, eight years old."
"We were young!" Pippin injected in a surprised voice.
"Yup. Really young." Merry said patiently, used to interruptions. "Anyway, we were at Bag End, and Bilbo was watching us, because we were playing with Frodo. Frodo ended up overturning an entire jar of jelly (and it was a pretty big jar) and Bilbo was trying to clean him up. Frodo wasn't helping by smearing it on his jacket and screaming 'sandwich', but then again, we weren't helping either. We were hungry, so we kept asking for food. But Bilbo was so preoccupied, he just kept saying wait a minute. Then, we saw a cart passing, full of food. Instantly, we were out the door and following the cart. It was Farmer Maggot, who was too stingy with his own food. Wouldn't eat his own crops, just so he'd have more than enough. He went into his house, and we found the fields. We went in and started pulling stuff off vines, stuffing it into our mouths. When we found something new to eat, we'd throw the old thing away and pick up the new vegetable. After an hour, we were lying in the field, eating an apple each, when Farmer Maggot found the other stuff. He thought rabbits did it, and started screaming and yelling. But he followed the trail and found us. So we started to run! Down the hill and back towards the Shire. Course, Farmer Maggot chased us halfway there. But that first taste was enough. We were hooked." Merry said in content. He looked over. Pippin was asleep, dead to the world, his curls sprawling over his forehead. Merry grinned and turned over so he could see the moon.
"Night, Pip."
When morning came, the two Hobbits agreed to get back to work. They'd been laboring for three hours when they heard the sound of hooves beating the ground and turned. There was Faramir astride his horse, racing towards them. He dismounted shortly before reaching the Hobbits and waved in greeting. They ran over, glad for some new company.
"Faramir! What brings you to our fine establishment?" Asked Merry cheerfully, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops. Faramir smiled.
"Oh, well, the, uh, desire to see the country." Faramir stammered, his smile seemingly glued in place. Merry and Pippin glanced at each other and shook their heads. Faramir clasped his hands behind his back and began to shift back and forth. "Do you mind if I stay the night?" He asked after a moment of the two Halflings just staring at him. Pippin smiled.
"Your welcome to! We've got guest rooms!" He informed him. Faramir smiled, looking relieved.
"Thanks. Hey, need a hand?" He asked as he saw the unfinished rows of pipe weed.
"Sure, if you're up to it!" Merry said with a shrug. With Faramir's help, they got half of the pipe weed planted. After they had all bathed, they settled down in the kitchen and had a second dinner, then went into the living room. The Hobbits both settled down on the couch, and Faramir took a big chair away from windows.
"So how long are you staying?" Merry asked. Faramir smiled nervously and folded his hands.
"Just tonight."
"Why not stay a week? Have a real vacation?" Pippin suggested, taking a swig of his ale. Faramir coughed and peeked out the window.
"Best to keep moving." He admitted. Merry sighed.
"You know, Eowyn seemed like a real nice person." Faramir smiled.
"No one said she can't be a nice person sometimes. It's just...today she was being TOO nice. I figured she was plotting something, since I figure she's still angry about me not accepting Isengard. So I left." Faramir confided. The Hobbits nodded in agreement.
"Probably better that way." Pippin said with a confident nod.
The next morning, Faramir rode away, towards Mirkwood, and the Hobbits stared out over their half planted fields.
"I hate work." Pippin said miserably. Merry clapped him on the back.
"Same Pip. But it's something we've got to do." He said grimly.