Elladan/Elrohir VS Merry/Pippin.
Operation R for Retribution.
A/N: Due to unforeseen demand of my many admirers (ok five, but that's enough to use as a basis for this, don't you think? Maybe I should wait til the weekend to post and then I'll get more people . . .) I have decided to write another of these little . . . encounters. Won't this be fun, eh? Please excuse my poor poetic ability in my lame imitation of free verse.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Merry and Pippin shared anxious looks as they hid behind one of the large pillars in the Hall.
Taking a few deep breaths, the two turned and walked calmly down the corridor.
. . .
At least, that was their intention.
As planned they turned but they only got one step down the corridor before they were forced to halt in their tracks.
And then they had to fall back on their tracks as they took in the full height of Lord Elrond, as opposed to just the waist down point of view. They couldn't help but admire once again the elven trait of pointed ears. They grinned as an idea struck the both of them at once.
Elrond took them in suspiciously and didn't say anything until the vicious grins had faded to slight smirks.
"And what are you young hobbits doing here, may I ask?" he said slowly, letting the vowels roll themselves out of his mouth and drop slowly down to hobbit level. Obviously he hadn't heard about the latest incident that had happened. The hobbit's sighed a sigh of sheer relief.
"Nothing!" they said simultaneously, their eyes pools of simplicity and innocence.
Elrond employed the eyebrows-lifting-unbelievingly-high-in-disbelief look as echoes of the twins' fruitless search echoed down the corridor towards them.
"Anything to do with my sons dripping wet and half their hair missing?" he asked.
The two halflings shook their heads quickly and started to skirt round the Elf Lord on opposite sides. Lord Elrond dropped his hands and caught the back of their shirts and brought them back in front of him quickly.
"Where do you think you two are going?" he asked again, forebodingly.
The two hobbits fidgeted beneath his gaze. Not just because they were literally beneath it, but also because they felt more than a little guilty and sorry about what had just happened.
Sorry for the bit about getting caught, anyway.
A shout echoed down the hallway.
"Father! You've caught them! Don't let them go!" the two elves yelled, panting as they raced down towards Elrond.
Elrond twisted around glancing left and right, looking for the hobbits that had just disappeared the moment his attention had turned towards his sons. His hands started to smooth down his robe agitatedly.
The twins pulled up in front of their father.
"Where'd they go?" they asked.
Elrond hid a small 'Eep!' as he shrugged; the brothers shared a quick look of annoyance.
"It won't take long, those damn hobbits! Father, you've got to do something about them!" they whined.
Elrond shrugged again.
"I can't do anyEEP!thing at the moEEP!ment. They are our guests, I'm sure you underEEP!stand."
The brothers favoured their father a worried look, "You sure you're feeling well, Father?" asked Elladan.
"FiEEP!" Elrond gave a slight cough "Fine . . . Just someEEP!thing caught in my EEP! throat . . ."
The two brothers quickly took their leave to resume their hunt for the undersized pair (of hobbits, you dirty minded people!).
"Did you think they'd find us?" whispered Pip to Merry who had also hidden underneath Elrond's flowing robe.
"I find your lack of faith disturbing," replied Merry as he slipped out, hearing the twin's footsteps fade away.
Elrond shivered.
"That was terrible!"
The hobbits grinned and ran off as Elrond was busy rearranging his robe so that the material didn't feel like there were two hobbits hiding underneath, their hairy feet on his and every now and then their sweaty palms brushing against his legs to steady themselves without disturbing the fabric.
Elrond shivered again, trying to ignore the paranoia creeping up his lack of pants.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Pounding their way down a side passage the two hobbits were struck by something.
Not struck as in a physical way of course, this is strictly PG and any violence would be terrible to the ratings, though what struck them could be arguably physical. But then, we need to keep this as 'general audience-d' as possible so it cannot have been something physical that had struck them. I suppose it could be called part hobbit intuition that struck them in the most unphysical way. We'll keep it at that, shall we?
The two hobbits skidded to a halt as a smell reached their noses.
They grinned at each other during the slight reprieve from their early morning constitutional and dove for the side door in perfect synchronisation, the effect spoilt only be Merry's unbalance and roll underneath the working bench, hitting a bag of flour but emerging unharmed but for the bag of flour looking the worse for wear with half it's contents slowly settling down on the room's inhabitants.
Merry sat up looking like a ghost and made a little groan. The remaining elves in the kitchen scurried out of the room containing the apparition. Merry grinned as he realised what he had done.
"Let's get to work," he told Pippin as the two lumbered towards the pantry in the corner, "Why don't you take the shelves whilst I do this? It'll be faster!" Pippin nodded and moved off, collecting an empty sack on his way.
Looking in, any passing elf/hobbit/human/dwarf/random-attacking-orc/maia/a- variety-of-different-spawns-of-Sauron-and/or-Morgoth would have found two hobbits literally slipping over in drool as they took in the provisions in the kitchen. They were both scrambling to put as much food as possible in each of their sacks.
Ten minutes later as the hobbits were making the agonizing decision on whether they should take Merry's favoured carrot or Pippin's "it looks like a mushroom, doesn't it?" they heard the dreaded, in time march of Elladan and his twin Elrohir come down the corridor.
"Apparently, the cooks are afraid of some pint-sized ghoul near the stove."
"Really? Are you sure they didn't see a second?" the evil grin that Elrohir smirked emanated into the kitchen. The hobbits froze, looking to each other.
"Into the sacks!" yelled Pippin in a whisper. They lunged towards some sacks for each of them, smacking their heads together as they went for the same one. Merry gave Pip a look and found another. Soon, they had wriggled into the position of a very satisfied looking bag of potatoes.
The twins' footsteps approached the kitchen door.
"I can't see any ghost's around here," said Elladan loudly to his brother.
"No, but look what we have here . . ." footsteps drew closer to Merry and Pippin's bags, a drop of sweat dripped from Pippin's brow, plummeting down onto his hand with a sickening splash, to Pip at least. It had sounded so loud!
A snort came from above Merry's head.
A whisper . . .
"1 . . . 2 . . . 3!" the two hobbits were lifted into the air and swung onto the strong elven shoulders.
They yelled. They kicked. The screamed. They fought. They made themselves as small as possible. They bounced. They hopped. They turned somersaults. They tried to choke their captors. They even tried singing. They bit as hard as they could through the thick wool but to no avail.
Elrohir sung as he marched.
"Oh I've got a lovely bunch of hobbits! Doodle di dee There they are a-sulkin' in a row! Duh dum dum . . . Umm."
Elladan steeped in for his brother.
"Slight ones, small ones some are plain overfed! Ohhhh . . . "
Elrohir joined in with his brother grinning and swingling his arms wildly.
"We've got a lurv-ah-ly bunch of hobbits!" they trailed off radiating pleased looks and smug smiles.
"This is the song that never ends!" yelled Pippin, loud as he was muffled so it was more like "Fiss isda sontha nevends!"
Elrohir made an exquisite bow to one of many wandering female elves.
"Gyah!" squealed Pip as everything went from upside-down to left-to-right to something more like an introverted-dimensional-warp if he had known. A few minutes later the twins arrived at their destination and set the sacks down, but being careful to keep one hand tightly around the top.
After much wriggling the hobbits settled down, listening for the slightest sound that would alert them to their fate.
There was no sound.
They strained their ears but nothing could be heard. Not even the gentle breathing of the two elves.
A scrape.
'Yes, there must have been a scrape!' thought Pippin desperately.
A thud.
'What now?' groaned Merry inwardly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Oh yes indeedy! What now? Should I be so evil as to leave you hanging off the edge of this cliffhanger ready to rival those cliffs in the opening of Mission Impossible? A 'To Be Continued' so terribly worse then the one when Whitney is about to find out that Chad is actually her brother and that her mother had had an affair with the 60 yr old creepy millionaire next door? (Ok, so Passions is about three years behind the US, I had to use something . . . ) Or will I leave it as a 'give me more reviews or you shall never know what will happen' threat to frighten you into giving me more. MORE! Or is it something simple like 'I have no more brainpower. My creative and hyperactive other self has gone on holidays and so cannot write anymore, so much that my typos will get to the point where the words 'the' and 'and' are indistinguishable and that I have no idea what to do with these characters' just to have you write sympathy notes. Or perhaps that would be easier to achieve with an, 'I have too much homework, my teachers want to kill me in my sleep' tactic? Or even better, a 'my arms are too weak to write anymore because I have a crippling disease that will kill me with too much exertion' (maybe I should use that one with my PE teacher *g*) approach. Or maybe it's because I eel the need to update since it's been so long or perchance it's because I look at my Word Count on my trusty Microsoft Word and go 'wow. I wrote THAT much?'.
And do you know what? I won't do either of those. I just wanted to get you worried . . . just to see how you would take it. *grins evilly*
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hands were thrust into the sacks and a blindfold was tied over their eyes. Merry bit his lip and tried to look cool and collected.
iSnip, Snip/i
Cold steel passed by Pippin's ear.
iSnip, Snip./i
Curled hair fell to the ground.
The hobbits didn't move.
Five minutes later the 'Hair-Chop-Chip' deed was done but Operation R For Retribution was still in . . . err . . . operation.
The hobbits had accepted their fate. It was part of the 'rules'. They had been caught, so they faced the consequences. There was always time afterwards for Operation Peg. Pippin nearly laughed as he thought of the upcoming potential of that idea.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Pippin snorted.
'You get caught, you face consequences,' was the rules. But they didn't mention this!
The two hobbits crossed their arms in chorus and put on identical expressions of un-amusement.
They were hanging upside down . . . in a most uncomfortable manner.
E&E Associates cackled with glee below them.
'Ouch . . .' thought Merry, but he wouldn't give the two below him the satisfaction of watching him squirm.
He only wriggled a little bit, to get a bit more comfortable but the elves below him howled with mirth so loud that many others were emerging from their rooms to see what on Middle Earth was causing such a ruckus.
A fair description of the scene can be illustrated thus:
A garden of roses, the sweet smelling fragrances,
Fill the air with sweet, ringing blossoms,
Which caress the winds that flow into
The Halls Of Rivendell.
Twin sons of the Lord do much despair
In delight. The fate of the two petite misfortunates,
Hang above and under the sky of
The Halls Of Rivendell.
The painted faces, the Mohawk hair curled.
The pink silk billowing around them,
And the peals of laughter echoing through The Halls Of Rivendell.
-Excerpt from The Book Of Rivendell, Eldrith Mesnawéth
Operation R for Retribution.
A/N: Due to unforeseen demand of my many admirers (ok five, but that's enough to use as a basis for this, don't you think? Maybe I should wait til the weekend to post and then I'll get more people . . .) I have decided to write another of these little . . . encounters. Won't this be fun, eh? Please excuse my poor poetic ability in my lame imitation of free verse.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Merry and Pippin shared anxious looks as they hid behind one of the large pillars in the Hall.
Taking a few deep breaths, the two turned and walked calmly down the corridor.
. . .
At least, that was their intention.
As planned they turned but they only got one step down the corridor before they were forced to halt in their tracks.
And then they had to fall back on their tracks as they took in the full height of Lord Elrond, as opposed to just the waist down point of view. They couldn't help but admire once again the elven trait of pointed ears. They grinned as an idea struck the both of them at once.
Elrond took them in suspiciously and didn't say anything until the vicious grins had faded to slight smirks.
"And what are you young hobbits doing here, may I ask?" he said slowly, letting the vowels roll themselves out of his mouth and drop slowly down to hobbit level. Obviously he hadn't heard about the latest incident that had happened. The hobbit's sighed a sigh of sheer relief.
"Nothing!" they said simultaneously, their eyes pools of simplicity and innocence.
Elrond employed the eyebrows-lifting-unbelievingly-high-in-disbelief look as echoes of the twins' fruitless search echoed down the corridor towards them.
"Anything to do with my sons dripping wet and half their hair missing?" he asked.
The two halflings shook their heads quickly and started to skirt round the Elf Lord on opposite sides. Lord Elrond dropped his hands and caught the back of their shirts and brought them back in front of him quickly.
"Where do you think you two are going?" he asked again, forebodingly.
The two hobbits fidgeted beneath his gaze. Not just because they were literally beneath it, but also because they felt more than a little guilty and sorry about what had just happened.
Sorry for the bit about getting caught, anyway.
A shout echoed down the hallway.
"Father! You've caught them! Don't let them go!" the two elves yelled, panting as they raced down towards Elrond.
Elrond twisted around glancing left and right, looking for the hobbits that had just disappeared the moment his attention had turned towards his sons. His hands started to smooth down his robe agitatedly.
The twins pulled up in front of their father.
"Where'd they go?" they asked.
Elrond hid a small 'Eep!' as he shrugged; the brothers shared a quick look of annoyance.
"It won't take long, those damn hobbits! Father, you've got to do something about them!" they whined.
Elrond shrugged again.
"I can't do anyEEP!thing at the moEEP!ment. They are our guests, I'm sure you underEEP!stand."
The brothers favoured their father a worried look, "You sure you're feeling well, Father?" asked Elladan.
"FiEEP!" Elrond gave a slight cough "Fine . . . Just someEEP!thing caught in my EEP! throat . . ."
The two brothers quickly took their leave to resume their hunt for the undersized pair (of hobbits, you dirty minded people!).
"Did you think they'd find us?" whispered Pip to Merry who had also hidden underneath Elrond's flowing robe.
"I find your lack of faith disturbing," replied Merry as he slipped out, hearing the twin's footsteps fade away.
Elrond shivered.
"That was terrible!"
The hobbits grinned and ran off as Elrond was busy rearranging his robe so that the material didn't feel like there were two hobbits hiding underneath, their hairy feet on his and every now and then their sweaty palms brushing against his legs to steady themselves without disturbing the fabric.
Elrond shivered again, trying to ignore the paranoia creeping up his lack of pants.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Pounding their way down a side passage the two hobbits were struck by something.
Not struck as in a physical way of course, this is strictly PG and any violence would be terrible to the ratings, though what struck them could be arguably physical. But then, we need to keep this as 'general audience-d' as possible so it cannot have been something physical that had struck them. I suppose it could be called part hobbit intuition that struck them in the most unphysical way. We'll keep it at that, shall we?
The two hobbits skidded to a halt as a smell reached their noses.
They grinned at each other during the slight reprieve from their early morning constitutional and dove for the side door in perfect synchronisation, the effect spoilt only be Merry's unbalance and roll underneath the working bench, hitting a bag of flour but emerging unharmed but for the bag of flour looking the worse for wear with half it's contents slowly settling down on the room's inhabitants.
Merry sat up looking like a ghost and made a little groan. The remaining elves in the kitchen scurried out of the room containing the apparition. Merry grinned as he realised what he had done.
"Let's get to work," he told Pippin as the two lumbered towards the pantry in the corner, "Why don't you take the shelves whilst I do this? It'll be faster!" Pippin nodded and moved off, collecting an empty sack on his way.
Looking in, any passing elf/hobbit/human/dwarf/random-attacking-orc/maia/a- variety-of-different-spawns-of-Sauron-and/or-Morgoth would have found two hobbits literally slipping over in drool as they took in the provisions in the kitchen. They were both scrambling to put as much food as possible in each of their sacks.
Ten minutes later as the hobbits were making the agonizing decision on whether they should take Merry's favoured carrot or Pippin's "it looks like a mushroom, doesn't it?" they heard the dreaded, in time march of Elladan and his twin Elrohir come down the corridor.
"Apparently, the cooks are afraid of some pint-sized ghoul near the stove."
"Really? Are you sure they didn't see a second?" the evil grin that Elrohir smirked emanated into the kitchen. The hobbits froze, looking to each other.
"Into the sacks!" yelled Pippin in a whisper. They lunged towards some sacks for each of them, smacking their heads together as they went for the same one. Merry gave Pip a look and found another. Soon, they had wriggled into the position of a very satisfied looking bag of potatoes.
The twins' footsteps approached the kitchen door.
"I can't see any ghost's around here," said Elladan loudly to his brother.
"No, but look what we have here . . ." footsteps drew closer to Merry and Pippin's bags, a drop of sweat dripped from Pippin's brow, plummeting down onto his hand with a sickening splash, to Pip at least. It had sounded so loud!
A snort came from above Merry's head.
A whisper . . .
"1 . . . 2 . . . 3!" the two hobbits were lifted into the air and swung onto the strong elven shoulders.
They yelled. They kicked. The screamed. They fought. They made themselves as small as possible. They bounced. They hopped. They turned somersaults. They tried to choke their captors. They even tried singing. They bit as hard as they could through the thick wool but to no avail.
Elrohir sung as he marched.
"Oh I've got a lovely bunch of hobbits! Doodle di dee There they are a-sulkin' in a row! Duh dum dum . . . Umm."
Elladan steeped in for his brother.
"Slight ones, small ones some are plain overfed! Ohhhh . . . "
Elrohir joined in with his brother grinning and swingling his arms wildly.
"We've got a lurv-ah-ly bunch of hobbits!" they trailed off radiating pleased looks and smug smiles.
"This is the song that never ends!" yelled Pippin, loud as he was muffled so it was more like "Fiss isda sontha nevends!"
Elrohir made an exquisite bow to one of many wandering female elves.
"Gyah!" squealed Pip as everything went from upside-down to left-to-right to something more like an introverted-dimensional-warp if he had known. A few minutes later the twins arrived at their destination and set the sacks down, but being careful to keep one hand tightly around the top.
After much wriggling the hobbits settled down, listening for the slightest sound that would alert them to their fate.
There was no sound.
They strained their ears but nothing could be heard. Not even the gentle breathing of the two elves.
A scrape.
'Yes, there must have been a scrape!' thought Pippin desperately.
A thud.
'What now?' groaned Merry inwardly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Oh yes indeedy! What now? Should I be so evil as to leave you hanging off the edge of this cliffhanger ready to rival those cliffs in the opening of Mission Impossible? A 'To Be Continued' so terribly worse then the one when Whitney is about to find out that Chad is actually her brother and that her mother had had an affair with the 60 yr old creepy millionaire next door? (Ok, so Passions is about three years behind the US, I had to use something . . . ) Or will I leave it as a 'give me more reviews or you shall never know what will happen' threat to frighten you into giving me more. MORE! Or is it something simple like 'I have no more brainpower. My creative and hyperactive other self has gone on holidays and so cannot write anymore, so much that my typos will get to the point where the words 'the' and 'and' are indistinguishable and that I have no idea what to do with these characters' just to have you write sympathy notes. Or perhaps that would be easier to achieve with an, 'I have too much homework, my teachers want to kill me in my sleep' tactic? Or even better, a 'my arms are too weak to write anymore because I have a crippling disease that will kill me with too much exertion' (maybe I should use that one with my PE teacher *g*) approach. Or maybe it's because I eel the need to update since it's been so long or perchance it's because I look at my Word Count on my trusty Microsoft Word and go 'wow. I wrote THAT much?'.
And do you know what? I won't do either of those. I just wanted to get you worried . . . just to see how you would take it. *grins evilly*
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hands were thrust into the sacks and a blindfold was tied over their eyes. Merry bit his lip and tried to look cool and collected.
iSnip, Snip/i
Cold steel passed by Pippin's ear.
iSnip, Snip./i
Curled hair fell to the ground.
The hobbits didn't move.
Five minutes later the 'Hair-Chop-Chip' deed was done but Operation R For Retribution was still in . . . err . . . operation.
The hobbits had accepted their fate. It was part of the 'rules'. They had been caught, so they faced the consequences. There was always time afterwards for Operation Peg. Pippin nearly laughed as he thought of the upcoming potential of that idea.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Pippin snorted.
'You get caught, you face consequences,' was the rules. But they didn't mention this!
The two hobbits crossed their arms in chorus and put on identical expressions of un-amusement.
They were hanging upside down . . . in a most uncomfortable manner.
E&E Associates cackled with glee below them.
'Ouch . . .' thought Merry, but he wouldn't give the two below him the satisfaction of watching him squirm.
He only wriggled a little bit, to get a bit more comfortable but the elves below him howled with mirth so loud that many others were emerging from their rooms to see what on Middle Earth was causing such a ruckus.
A fair description of the scene can be illustrated thus:
A garden of roses, the sweet smelling fragrances,
Fill the air with sweet, ringing blossoms,
Which caress the winds that flow into
The Halls Of Rivendell.
Twin sons of the Lord do much despair
In delight. The fate of the two petite misfortunates,
Hang above and under the sky of
The Halls Of Rivendell.
The painted faces, the Mohawk hair curled.
The pink silk billowing around them,
And the peals of laughter echoing through The Halls Of Rivendell.
-Excerpt from The Book Of Rivendell, Eldrith Mesnawéth