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Chapter Seven: Tricksy Hobbits

Scritch Scratch Scritch Scratch.

The sound of quill meeting parchment continued for hours and hours. Elven letters were crafted by a skilled hand. Never once was a mistake made. Never once did the hand cease. Never once did his eyes stray from the script. That is, until the ink bottle was dry.

Erestor, master scribe, closed his eyes and released a sigh. It was time to call it a day. Not that there was much day left. The final golden rays of the sun were dispersing, giving in to nightfall. He had been hunched over his desk writing furiously since he left the library (and left a few occupants locked inside). It was a rash decision; one he reprimanded himself for making but he was not going to give up on it. One thing he learned when disciplining children, that when a punishment was put into motion, it must be seen through. Though Boromir, Legolas, and Gimli were not children, the age difference between Erestor and the three warriors made up for that fact. At least it did in Erestor's mind.

Leaning back, he stretched his hands to the ceiling, listening to the 'pops' his spine released. He slumped down, wishing to do nothing more for the evening except relax. He opened his eyes.

A hobbit was grinning at him.

"What can I do for you, Peregrin Took?" asked the raven-haired advisor. Something was definitely wrong. Peregrin had shown no interest in the academic affairs of the Elves. "So what is he doing in my study then?"

"Please, Lord Erestor, just call me Pippin. Only Gandalf and Strider call me by that name. And my mum when she is angry. And my sisters when they teased me. And my uncle when . . ." Pippin stopped when Erestor raised his hand.

A slight smile pulled on Erestor's lips, "I will call you Pippin if you cease to call me 'Lord Erestor'; Erestor is fine."

The curly hair bounced, "Will do. So anyway, I was wondering if you can explain something to me. Lord Elrond told me you know about everything there is to know about Middle-earth."

Erestor gave a light laugh, "I am quite sure that I do not know everything. But . . ."

But Erestor was cut off by someone shouting, "Help! Someone Help!"

Another hobbit, Meriadoc, if Erestor remembered correctly, appeared in the doorway, looking panic stricken. Meriadoc was panting hard and shaking, "It is Frodo! Something is wrong with him!"

Dread flowed through Erestor. The ring-bearer was in trouble! Although he could not imagine what could be wrong with Frodo. Imladris was safely protected from the evil that inhabited Middle-earth, but maybe the Ring could still hold some influence? He did not doubt it.

The advisor sprang out of his chair and followed Meriadoc, who was dashing towards the sitting room.

There was Frodo, lying on a chair, unconscious. He still looked pale, but not as pale as his first days in Imladris. The hobbit actually looked quite peaceful but Erestor knew that the Ring was devious in many ways.

He touched one of Frodo's shoulders, "What happened, Meriadoc?"

"I do not know. One second he is awake. Then the next, he is unconscious! I did not know what to do!"

Erestor turned his attention backed towards Frodo. Not knowing what to do, he simply grabbed both of Frodo's shoulders and started shaking the hobbit wildly, "Frodo, wake up! What devilry holds you to such a state?"

Much to the elf's surprise, the shaken hobbit's eyes flew wide open. Frodo looked just baffled as Erestor, "Devilry? What devilry? I was sleeping!" Frodo looked terrified all of the sudden, "Or . . . was I talking in my sleep?"

"Sleep? You were sleeping?" Erestor asked in astonishment as Frodo nodded his head slowly, as if he were regarding him as a mad elf.

Erestor slowly turned to Meriadoc, who was grinning sheepishly, "Oh yes, sleeping. That is what one does after being awake, right?"

A piercing glare bore through the nervous hobbit, "Why did you call on me, Meriadoc, if he was just sleeping?"

Each of Erestor's words were articulated and said slowly, which made Meriadoc nearly flinch, "Over active imagination? Right, that's it. And you can call me 'Merry'. Only Gandalf and Strider call me that, anywho. Since I guess there is no danger, I'll be off!"

Merry scampered out of room leaving a very puzzled elf and hobbit.

"He is one of your kin, is he not? Can you explain . . ?" Erestor started to ask but was stopped by Frodo's shaking head.

"I do not think I will ever understand him. Or Pippin for that matter," Frodo scrunched his eyebrows. "Actually, you usually do not see one without the other. I wonder where Pippin has gone off to."

Flashbacks of Elladan and Elrohir entered Erestor's usual calm mind. The twins were usually never apart when they were younger. When they were apart, something bad always happened. It was a device they used to bring about some prank or plot. His Elven instincts told him that if Merry and Pippin were anything like Elladan and Elrohir, he would have something to worry about.

Horror of a new kind flowed through Erestor.

The advisor madly dashed back to his study. He thought of all the things Pippin could have done: steal all his ink, disorganize his bookshelves, set up some elaborate prank involving a bucket, ink, and/or water, set fire to his study, or worse of all, misplaced his reports.

He threw the door open and took a quick intake of breath. This is not what he expected.

"Is everything all right, Erestor?" asked Pippin, elbows propped on Erestor's desk.

"Yes, it was nothing."

"But something here is not all right," thought Erestor. A large, heavy book was open in front of Pippin. Even though that seemed out of place, that was not the something he was looking for. He walked over his desk slowly, his eyes never leaving Pippin's form. Behind the desk, he had a full view of the hobbit. Erestor felt like slapping himself in the face for his moment of stupidity. Of course, something was wrong. This tiny hobbit could not have reached the top of the desk without a little help.

Pippin looked a bit worried, "I hope you do not mind that I borrowed your books."

Erestor eyed the books that were stacked on the chair and on the very top of the stack sat Pippin, "Not at all. They are useful in more than one way. But I would like to go back to your question that you asked before we were interrupted."

The hobbit scurried off his little tower of books, "Oh that," Pippin said letting out a nervous laugh. He slowly walked backwards towards the door. "No need for explanation. Figured it all out. By that book. On the desk. I better not take more of your time, seeing as you are a very important and busy counselor. Good night!"

Erestor swore he could have seen the outline of Pippin's form surrounded in dust as he vanished from the doorway. The advisor was still at unease. It made sense that Merry made a spectacle of Frodo's sleeping state to distract Erestor from his study, but what in the Valar did Pippin do to his study?

Flipping the hardcover over the thick pages, Erestor read the title of the book Pippin was reading: Minerals found in Middle-earth. Yes, his instincts were correct. They must have done something to his study or taken something.

Erestor searched his study for any visible signs of tampering.

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Two curly heads bobbed up and down as they entered the gardens. They had gotten what was asked of them and were eager to show their prize. Merry and Pippin reached their destination. An elf sitting on a bench was patiently waiting.

"Did you get it?"

Pippin fished through his pockets and produced a key; the key to the library, "It was really easy to get. I thought tricking Erestor would be really tough, seeing as how he is the top advisor and all."

Merry looked the elf up and down, "And while we were doing the dirty work, it seems as you have taken the time to pamper yourself."

The dirty elf that emerged form the chimney an hour ago was no more. When Merry and Pippin were performing their mission of retrieving the library key, Legolas had used the opportunity to clean himself and change into a fresh tunic and leggings. "I would not use the term 'pampering'," scowled Legolas. "I have just been held prisoner in Imladris, the supposedly Last Homely Home, and had to escape through a chimney! I call that dirty work. I, at the very least, deserve clean clothes."

Legolas reached for the key but Pippin brought his hand back into his pocket. Pippin looked at Merry, who cocked his head in Legolas's directions. Pippin shrugged. Merry waved his hands in front of his, giving the cue for Pippin to speak. Pippin looked nervous. Merry threw up his hands melodramatically, "Fine, I'll do it."

Legolas was beyond confusion watching the silent conversation, "Do what?"

The older hobbit shifted his foot into the ground, "You asked something of us and we want to ask you something of you."

This was unexpected. This time, Legolas cocked his head, "What would you ask of me?"

"It is about the Fellowship. Rumor has it that there are only going to be nine members. Frodo and Sam are definitely going. Gandalf and Strider have already expressed their wishes in going with them and Lord Elrond wants you, Gimli, and Boromir to go. That leaves only two spots open," Merry looked up Legolas with a wistful expression.

Legolas smiled at the two hobbits, "You wish to go with your kinsman, is that it?"

Pippin perked up, "Yes! We want to help Frodo too! He has always looked after us and now it is out turn to look after him."

Respect washed through Legolas, "You wish to go with him even though you both will face dangers much worse than those you have already encountered?"

Both hobbits nodded vigorously.

"I will speak with Lord Elrond and try to persuade him to your wishes, but do not expect too much. We both may be Elves, but we are of different realms. I do not know if he would take my words over his own people," said Legolas.

Pippin produced the key once more, this time handing it to Legolas, "We cannot thank you enough for that but . . ."

"But there is something else you must know," picked up Merry. "During your arm wrestling match with Gimli, it was Boromir who had thrown that rock at Gimli." Merry dropped his eyes to the ground. "I do not want you to be fighting with Gimli and I do want you be fighting with Boromir, or Gimli and Boromir fighting each other. I do not know how this information will solve anything . . ."

"Do not worry. I had already suspected that Boromir was the culprit, " said Legolas in a comforting tone. "I wish that we were not fighting, either. Sometimes our differences are too much for us and we refuse to understand. Maybe I have been listening with closed ears. If that is what you wish, Merry, I will try to more understanding with Gimli."

Merry and Pippin grinned simultaneously.

Legolas rolled his eyes, "I said I would try. I cannot be held responsible for the dwarf's reactions. And my reactions to his reactions."

"What about Boromir?" asked Pippin.

The elf sat up and stretched, "First, I think a little revenge is in order, then I will try to get along with him too."

With that said, Legolas strolled out of the gardens leaving Merry and Pippin to ponder on the type of revenge Legolas would extract on the man of Gondor.

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Well, I originally planned to have Gimli and Boromir in this chapter. They didn't quite make it. But don't worry, more of man and dwarf to come!