Own nothing, never will.
Pippin wasn't supposed to say anything. Bucky wasn't even supposed to go inside. That's what Gandalf had said, "Bucky! Wait here."
"What if I don't want to?"
"I can make you stay."
Gandalf actually wanted him inside, for two reasons: one, then he could keep an eye on him and two, because he was not sure how to explain his presence to Denethor, sight was better than sound, at least when it involved aging stewards. But Gandalf had gotten to know Bucky well over the past months. Even in a situation in which he trusted Pippin to be quiet, he would not trust Bucky.
So, Bucky sat on the grand, marble steps leading up to the mighty hall of Minas Tirith. He made for a very amusing sight, a dumpy, dirty Siamese surrounded by the most regal Gondor had to offer. The guards in the dorky looking helmets were casting confused glances at him. Bucky did his best to ignore them.
He didn't want to be sitting out here, he was bored and angry. Stupid idiot Gandalf telling him what to do, well Gandalf wasn't the boss of him, he was going to go inside and tell Gandalf exactly what he thought of him. Of course Bucky had just done that a day ago and it hadn't made much difference, but Bucky didn't care. He wasn't one to give up after only one try—if he even bothered to try at all.
With what looked like resolve he stood and walked toward the broad doorway. The guards looked at him, and then at each other, shrugging they let him through. If they'd let Gandalf in they didn't see how much more damage this insignificant being could do.
Bucky felt little amazement at the wide marble floors, or the stern statues of previous stewards and kings, he imagined it would be fun to slide on the well-polished marble, but he wanted to approach Gandalf more threateningly than that, so he strode down the hall, trying to look intimidating.
Pippin noticed him first, and tried desperately to make him leave. He had already added his bit and didn't see how Bucky was going to help matters any. "Sh!" Pippin hissed, gesturing at Bucky. He knew Gandalf was in a precarious situation, although why, was beyond him. Denethor's attention, although hard to catch, was not impossible. "What is that?"
Gandalf turned, he already knew what he was going to see, and wondered why he'd brought either Pippin OR Bucky along. "That," he sighed, and turned back to Denethor, "is Bucky.
"He is . . . with me."
"With you?" Bucky said. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Denethor," Gandalf said, deciding to ignore Bucky, "you must rally your forces!" Denethor paid him no heed. "What do you do?" he asked of Bucky. "Bucky doesn't really do anything," Pippin supplied.
"I did not ask you." Denethor glared at Pippin.
"I sleep," Bucky said, as if that was something to be proud of.
"What else?"
"I eat."
Denethor shook his head. "There must be something—"
"Out!" Gandalf snapped, trying not to lose his temper. "Out now! Both of you. I must speak to Denethor alone." He shoved both Bucky and Pippin towards the door with his staff.
"They will stay!" Denethor commanded.
"We must speak of vital matters," Gandalf insisted. "You may converse with them later."
"Do not presume to tell me what I may and may not do. I wish to speak with them now!"
"Well I don't feel like talking to you," Bucky said and with a running start he slid all the way out of the hall.
"He is not worth your time," Gandalf said, trying to force Denethor's attention back to him. "There are important issues to discuss."
"So be it," Denethor muttered and slid down in his seat. Pippin disappeared out the door after Bucky, glad to be out of that oppressing hall.
Pippin wasn't supposed to say anything. Bucky wasn't even supposed to go inside. That's what Gandalf had said, "Bucky! Wait here."
"What if I don't want to?"
"I can make you stay."
Gandalf actually wanted him inside, for two reasons: one, then he could keep an eye on him and two, because he was not sure how to explain his presence to Denethor, sight was better than sound, at least when it involved aging stewards. But Gandalf had gotten to know Bucky well over the past months. Even in a situation in which he trusted Pippin to be quiet, he would not trust Bucky.
So, Bucky sat on the grand, marble steps leading up to the mighty hall of Minas Tirith. He made for a very amusing sight, a dumpy, dirty Siamese surrounded by the most regal Gondor had to offer. The guards in the dorky looking helmets were casting confused glances at him. Bucky did his best to ignore them.
He didn't want to be sitting out here, he was bored and angry. Stupid idiot Gandalf telling him what to do, well Gandalf wasn't the boss of him, he was going to go inside and tell Gandalf exactly what he thought of him. Of course Bucky had just done that a day ago and it hadn't made much difference, but Bucky didn't care. He wasn't one to give up after only one try—if he even bothered to try at all.
With what looked like resolve he stood and walked toward the broad doorway. The guards looked at him, and then at each other, shrugging they let him through. If they'd let Gandalf in they didn't see how much more damage this insignificant being could do.
Bucky felt little amazement at the wide marble floors, or the stern statues of previous stewards and kings, he imagined it would be fun to slide on the well-polished marble, but he wanted to approach Gandalf more threateningly than that, so he strode down the hall, trying to look intimidating.
Pippin noticed him first, and tried desperately to make him leave. He had already added his bit and didn't see how Bucky was going to help matters any. "Sh!" Pippin hissed, gesturing at Bucky. He knew Gandalf was in a precarious situation, although why, was beyond him. Denethor's attention, although hard to catch, was not impossible. "What is that?"
Gandalf turned, he already knew what he was going to see, and wondered why he'd brought either Pippin OR Bucky along. "That," he sighed, and turned back to Denethor, "is Bucky.
"He is . . . with me."
"With you?" Bucky said. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Denethor," Gandalf said, deciding to ignore Bucky, "you must rally your forces!" Denethor paid him no heed. "What do you do?" he asked of Bucky. "Bucky doesn't really do anything," Pippin supplied.
"I did not ask you." Denethor glared at Pippin.
"I sleep," Bucky said, as if that was something to be proud of.
"What else?"
"I eat."
Denethor shook his head. "There must be something—"
"Out!" Gandalf snapped, trying not to lose his temper. "Out now! Both of you. I must speak to Denethor alone." He shoved both Bucky and Pippin towards the door with his staff.
"They will stay!" Denethor commanded.
"We must speak of vital matters," Gandalf insisted. "You may converse with them later."
"Do not presume to tell me what I may and may not do. I wish to speak with them now!"
"Well I don't feel like talking to you," Bucky said and with a running start he slid all the way out of the hall.
"He is not worth your time," Gandalf said, trying to force Denethor's attention back to him. "There are important issues to discuss."
"So be it," Denethor muttered and slid down in his seat. Pippin disappeared out the door after Bucky, glad to be out of that oppressing hall.