While they Walked
Chapter 10: One Rainy Day
A/N: Mirielle, you prompted me into going back and correcting all mistakes in all of the chapters and adjusting them slightly. They're not changed much at all but they should all be correct now. See? I do read and take notice of reviews!
The day had passed and it had been the wettest any of the hobbits could ever remember, though it may be because they were usually inside when it was raining. Hoods were drawn up, rendering the hobbits even less able to be distinguished from one another.
"This mud is terrible!" Complained one of the hobbits, no one other than the hobbits seemed to know which had said it, unless Gandalf did but just didn't let on.
"My feet are caked! This will take weeks to get out of my hair." Grumbled another hobbit.
"Pippin! Your hair!" Came an exclamation from beneath one of the hoods.
"What? What's the matter with it?"
"No, not that hair, on your feet. When was the last time you brushed it?"
"I brush it every morning, it just gets tangled very easily!"
"Poppycock! That's not been brushed for at least a week."
"It's not my fault that it's so long, I've got at least twice the amount of mud in my hair than in yours. I don't know how you can see the tangles through all this rain and mud anyway."
"Frodo can sense tangles a mile off. Put him a dark room with three messy children and he'll whip a hairbrush from who-knows-where and they'll all come out with perfect hair, or as perfect as you can get it."
"That's what wrong." Said Frodo as the solution dawned on him. "Sam, I trust you have some scissors?"
"Of course I do Mr. Frodo."
"No, Frodo, you wouldn't. You know I can't stand it! I'm always stabbed or something of the sort."
"Well, if you kept your feet still then it wouldn't be so bad. Look if you don't want me to do it then I'll let Merry do it."
"Merry's coming nowhere near my feet with scissors, last time he tried to cut my hair I came away with bald feet!"
"It was not as bad as that."
"I considered wearing shoes until my hair grew back!"
"Well I'll be sober this time."
"I don't care, if anyone's going to cut my hair then it's going to be Frodo. You'll still have to catch me though!" One of the small cloaked figures had trouble pulling his foot out of a hole that it had sunk into.
"Blast this mud! As if it wasn't already hard enough to walk!" The taller of the fellowship would have laughed but they, excluding Legolas, were having just as much, if not more trouble. The hobbits being small and with larger feet didn't sink quite so deeply into the mud as the humans, wizard and dwarf. The elf, however, was skipping lightly on the top of the mud, much to the annoyance of the rest of the company.
Aragorn's foot sunk once more deeply into the mud, becoming as annoyed as the hobbits sounded he lost his patience and yanked his foot up, leaving his boot behind. Aragorn turned and looked behind him, realisation dawning on him as the coldness of the mud enclosed around his now de-booted foot. He sighed angrily and kept his mouth shut lest some less than friendly words made their way out.
"Strider! How very sensible of you, never held with boots myself either." Aragorn could tell that whichever hobbit had said that was grinning cheekily, safe in the knowledge that he couldn't be told apart from the others. Boromir, however was not so lucky. At the end of his short time of laughing he found himself at the brunt of Aragorn's pent up frustration. Aragorn gave him a push, his intention to get Boromir moving and hopefully shut him up, but as Boromir's own feet were sunk someway into the mud, Aragorn succeeded in sending his face first toward the floor.
Boromir landed quite heavily, sending a wave of mud that failed in hitting only Gandalf. There was a shocked silence while Boromir pushed himself up out of the mud. This silence was broken soon enough when Aragorn yelled in surprise as four missiles of mud hit him, two on his head, one on his back and one on his rump. Then four short, cloaked figures rushed past him to help Boromir up, inquiring as to how he felt and if anything was hurt. Aragorn yanked his boot out of the mud, apologised to Boromir and would have offered his hand to him were the hobbits not blocking him.
Boromir slowly rose, smiling to show that no harm was done, but then he stopped and stared. A grin soon made its way onto his face and soon he was laughing. Everyone turned to see what he was looking at and they saw the usually clear, white complexion of Legolas coated in a brown layer of mud. The rest of the fellowship began to laugh, even Gandalf failed to keep a smile from his face.
"Laugh all you want but my clothes are cleaner than yours!" said Legolas indignantly. That brought Boromir back to his own situation.
"Don't worry Boromir, once that's dry it'll flake right off!"
"If it ever gets the chance to dry." Said Pippin as he peered up at the dark sky.
"Well, standing here won't get anything dry so you'll just have to bear it for the moment." Said Gandalf. Gimli was still finding Legolas' condition quite hilarious. Legolas' arms moved faster than anyone's eyes could see and Gimli ended up with a great splat of mud right in his face.
"That's enough of that I think!" Said Gandalf. The fellowship began to walk once more, the hobbits made sure to stand between Aragorn and Boromir.
"Boromir," said Frodo, drawing a hairbrush out of his pack. "Would you mind terribly if I brushed your hair?" He looked upon Boromir's hair like a mother upon a mucky son.
"Frodo, it's still raining, you'll only get the hairbrush muddy and wet."
"Very well, I'll leave it until this confounded rain stops." Pippin began to laugh.
"Whatever is it now Pippin?"
"Just look at us all!" cried Pippin. The four hobbits were nearly up to their knees in mud, everyone bar Gandalf had splashes of mud all over them. Boromir's front was completely covered, Aragorn was wearing only one boot and both Legolas' and Gimli's faces were smeared with mud where they'd tried to wipe it all off. Only the hem of Gandalf's robe was muddy where it dragged on the ground. "Gandalf? Do you have some kind of spell on your clothes? For I don't see how you could have kept so clean." Gandalf smiled knowingly.
"Ah, I do not meddle in the affairs of elves, dwarves, men and hobbits for they are quick to retaliate and generally quite messy." Merry sighed.
"You're as bad as the elves Gandalf, what kind of answer was that?"
"A wizardly one." Said Pippin, he knew from all his questioning of Gandalf what sort of answers he gave. Aragorn looked down at the hobbits.
"I'm glad I'm not the only one who only understands him half of the time."
"At least he can be understood when it matters." Said one of the hobbits, who had all returned to their previous position of 'anonymous people of small stature'. Aragorn smiled and nodded in agreement and trudged along, greatly looking forward to the next day's rest.
Chapter 10: One Rainy Day
A/N: Mirielle, you prompted me into going back and correcting all mistakes in all of the chapters and adjusting them slightly. They're not changed much at all but they should all be correct now. See? I do read and take notice of reviews!
The day had passed and it had been the wettest any of the hobbits could ever remember, though it may be because they were usually inside when it was raining. Hoods were drawn up, rendering the hobbits even less able to be distinguished from one another.
"This mud is terrible!" Complained one of the hobbits, no one other than the hobbits seemed to know which had said it, unless Gandalf did but just didn't let on.
"My feet are caked! This will take weeks to get out of my hair." Grumbled another hobbit.
"Pippin! Your hair!" Came an exclamation from beneath one of the hoods.
"What? What's the matter with it?"
"No, not that hair, on your feet. When was the last time you brushed it?"
"I brush it every morning, it just gets tangled very easily!"
"Poppycock! That's not been brushed for at least a week."
"It's not my fault that it's so long, I've got at least twice the amount of mud in my hair than in yours. I don't know how you can see the tangles through all this rain and mud anyway."
"Frodo can sense tangles a mile off. Put him a dark room with three messy children and he'll whip a hairbrush from who-knows-where and they'll all come out with perfect hair, or as perfect as you can get it."
"That's what wrong." Said Frodo as the solution dawned on him. "Sam, I trust you have some scissors?"
"Of course I do Mr. Frodo."
"No, Frodo, you wouldn't. You know I can't stand it! I'm always stabbed or something of the sort."
"Well, if you kept your feet still then it wouldn't be so bad. Look if you don't want me to do it then I'll let Merry do it."
"Merry's coming nowhere near my feet with scissors, last time he tried to cut my hair I came away with bald feet!"
"It was not as bad as that."
"I considered wearing shoes until my hair grew back!"
"Well I'll be sober this time."
"I don't care, if anyone's going to cut my hair then it's going to be Frodo. You'll still have to catch me though!" One of the small cloaked figures had trouble pulling his foot out of a hole that it had sunk into.
"Blast this mud! As if it wasn't already hard enough to walk!" The taller of the fellowship would have laughed but they, excluding Legolas, were having just as much, if not more trouble. The hobbits being small and with larger feet didn't sink quite so deeply into the mud as the humans, wizard and dwarf. The elf, however, was skipping lightly on the top of the mud, much to the annoyance of the rest of the company.
Aragorn's foot sunk once more deeply into the mud, becoming as annoyed as the hobbits sounded he lost his patience and yanked his foot up, leaving his boot behind. Aragorn turned and looked behind him, realisation dawning on him as the coldness of the mud enclosed around his now de-booted foot. He sighed angrily and kept his mouth shut lest some less than friendly words made their way out.
"Strider! How very sensible of you, never held with boots myself either." Aragorn could tell that whichever hobbit had said that was grinning cheekily, safe in the knowledge that he couldn't be told apart from the others. Boromir, however was not so lucky. At the end of his short time of laughing he found himself at the brunt of Aragorn's pent up frustration. Aragorn gave him a push, his intention to get Boromir moving and hopefully shut him up, but as Boromir's own feet were sunk someway into the mud, Aragorn succeeded in sending his face first toward the floor.
Boromir landed quite heavily, sending a wave of mud that failed in hitting only Gandalf. There was a shocked silence while Boromir pushed himself up out of the mud. This silence was broken soon enough when Aragorn yelled in surprise as four missiles of mud hit him, two on his head, one on his back and one on his rump. Then four short, cloaked figures rushed past him to help Boromir up, inquiring as to how he felt and if anything was hurt. Aragorn yanked his boot out of the mud, apologised to Boromir and would have offered his hand to him were the hobbits not blocking him.
Boromir slowly rose, smiling to show that no harm was done, but then he stopped and stared. A grin soon made its way onto his face and soon he was laughing. Everyone turned to see what he was looking at and they saw the usually clear, white complexion of Legolas coated in a brown layer of mud. The rest of the fellowship began to laugh, even Gandalf failed to keep a smile from his face.
"Laugh all you want but my clothes are cleaner than yours!" said Legolas indignantly. That brought Boromir back to his own situation.
"Don't worry Boromir, once that's dry it'll flake right off!"
"If it ever gets the chance to dry." Said Pippin as he peered up at the dark sky.
"Well, standing here won't get anything dry so you'll just have to bear it for the moment." Said Gandalf. Gimli was still finding Legolas' condition quite hilarious. Legolas' arms moved faster than anyone's eyes could see and Gimli ended up with a great splat of mud right in his face.
"That's enough of that I think!" Said Gandalf. The fellowship began to walk once more, the hobbits made sure to stand between Aragorn and Boromir.
"Boromir," said Frodo, drawing a hairbrush out of his pack. "Would you mind terribly if I brushed your hair?" He looked upon Boromir's hair like a mother upon a mucky son.
"Frodo, it's still raining, you'll only get the hairbrush muddy and wet."
"Very well, I'll leave it until this confounded rain stops." Pippin began to laugh.
"Whatever is it now Pippin?"
"Just look at us all!" cried Pippin. The four hobbits were nearly up to their knees in mud, everyone bar Gandalf had splashes of mud all over them. Boromir's front was completely covered, Aragorn was wearing only one boot and both Legolas' and Gimli's faces were smeared with mud where they'd tried to wipe it all off. Only the hem of Gandalf's robe was muddy where it dragged on the ground. "Gandalf? Do you have some kind of spell on your clothes? For I don't see how you could have kept so clean." Gandalf smiled knowingly.
"Ah, I do not meddle in the affairs of elves, dwarves, men and hobbits for they are quick to retaliate and generally quite messy." Merry sighed.
"You're as bad as the elves Gandalf, what kind of answer was that?"
"A wizardly one." Said Pippin, he knew from all his questioning of Gandalf what sort of answers he gave. Aragorn looked down at the hobbits.
"I'm glad I'm not the only one who only understands him half of the time."
"At least he can be understood when it matters." Said one of the hobbits, who had all returned to their previous position of 'anonymous people of small stature'. Aragorn smiled and nodded in agreement and trudged along, greatly looking forward to the next day's rest.