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Well...I THINK the FF site has fixed itself. I'll know for sure when I hit 'send'.
But if not...please be sure to make sure you are reading these in order.
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Chapter 181
~X~
Flinn had found a secluded little spot near a fountain in which to sit, attempting to work through his angry emotions. He should be going with Frodo! Not Gimli. It wasn't fair to penalize him simply due to his lacking a few years! He had experience, fighting skills, and more head knowledge than necessary, he was sure of it. Yet here he sat, irritated and stewing over how it simply wasn't fair! Raking his sleeve over his face he wiped away the last of the embarrassing tears, thinking maybe they were right after all…for a full-grown dwarrow wouldn't cry over such a thing, would they?
"Flinn?" came a soft voice to his left, causing him to turn and see Samwise approaching. "Are you all right? Everyone is out looking for you. Frodo, Frerin, Gimli, and even Merry and Pippin."
"I just wanted to be left alone for a bit," he replied, glad he had done away with the evidence that he'd been crying.
"I'm very sorry they won't let you go," Sam told him, sitting down beside the dwarf. "I would have truly loved to have you along."
"Thank you, Sam," Flinn nodded, appreciating his encouraging words.
"I do understand how you feel though," Sam continued. "The very last thing I ever wished to do was to go to Mordor, and yet, for Frodo I would crawl there on my hands and knees. I'd be mad as a hornet too if they forbid me from going."
"But…I'm his sword-brother!" Flinn all but wailed. "Can't they understand that it's my job to protect him."
"Yes, you are his sword-brother, no one is denying that," Sam nodded. "Yet, wasn't it you who told me that no matter how much we wish we could, we can't always protect those we care about…that it's a sad fact of life?"
"Well…it's a stupid fact of life," Flinn huffed, hating to hear his own words turned against him. "It's just that he's been my friend since childhood," Flinn said with a sigh. "Then again, according to Elrond, I'm still a child, while Frodo is considered an adult." He then looked over at the hobbit sitting beside him. "Yet…if I can't go with him, I'm glad he'll have you to look after him, Sam. I can tell you are just as devoted to him as I am…and I'm counting on you to watch over him, for both of us. Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee…don't you leave him."
"I won't, Flinn," Sam nodded solemnly. "I promise."
"Thank you," Flinn said with a sad smile, reaching out and giving the hobbit's shoulder a small squeeze.
"There you are!" Frodo called, running down the short path in front of the two. "You found him, Sam!"
"Aye, Mister Frodo," the younger hobbit nodded, standing up and vacating the spot next to Flinn. "I'll go tell the others they can stop looking, and give the two of you time to talk."
"Thank you, Sam," Frodo smiled in gratitude, watching as his friend left. Once they were alone, the hobbit sat down on the bench beside Flinn, the dwarf not even raising his head to look at him. "Talk to me, Flinn. Please?"
"What's there to say?" he asked, reaching down to pluck a few blades of grass and twist them between his fingers. "You're going on a dangerous mission…and I must remain behind like some little dwarfling. And maybe that's what I've become in your eyes as well…just a useless child. Why do you even bother being friends with me anymore?"
"You know that's not how I see you at all," Frodo insisted, reaching out and placing his palm on Flinn's shoulder. "You're my trusted sword-brother and you always will be. Age does not determine friendship, nor does it measure bravery. I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you, Flinn. You saved me and Holly from those wolves back in the Shire all those years ago, and I'll never forget that. In fact, I've been in awe of you since the first time we met…do you remember?"
"When we met?" Flinn asked, looking up at last. "Of course I do. You came to Erebor, and I chased you around your mother's skirts until I knocked you down and introduced myself."
"I had been scared to death to journey across Middle Earth and meet dwarves," Frodo laughed. "But you were so kind and brave, that I felt at ease around you right away. And then, when you offered to make me your sword-brother, well, that was an honor indeed, and more than any simple Baggins deserved."
"I've treasured our friendship as well," he told the hobbit with a sincere smile. His eyes then turned sad. "Why'd you do it, Frodo? Why did you offer to take that blasted ring to Mordor?"
"I don't know," he said with a sigh. "It just…well, felt like something I had to do. I'm scared out of my mind, Flinn, though I feel in my heart that it's what I'm meant to do." He got a silly grin on his face and bumped shoulders with Flinn. "Besides…I've been a ring bearer before you know, and last time wasn't so hard."
"You mean at Uncle Thorin and Aunt Marigold's wedding?" the dwarf chuckled, recalling how excited Frodo had been to be asked to fulfill that assignment. The thought of such happy moments made his heart hurt, wishing he could somehow turn back time. "Well…let's hope this time is no different."
"Yes, let's hope. But Flinn…I would feel a lot better about going if you would do something for me," Frodo said, his voice full of worry.
"You know I want to go with you, but they said I can't!" Flinn moaned, feeling as if he were letting his friend down.
"I know. And as much as I would love to have you at my side…I was hoping I could ask you to do me another favor instead," he asked, his tone turning deadly serious. "I can't ask just anyone, and I wouldn't trust this to any other but you."
"Then ask, Frodo," Flinn begged, wanting to aid him in any way possible. "You know I'll do it, no matter what."
"Would you go to the Shire and protect it for me?" Frodo pleaded. "I fear that this ring business has placed my home in a great deal of danger. Already Black Riders have come there looking for me, and I fear that they might not give up. We're a rather defenseless lot, save for a few of the Bounders and Shirriffs, and I can count on one hand the number of true weapons we have in Hobbiton. If the enemy attacks, they'll be completely vulnerable, Flinn. It would be a massacre."
"You want me to defend the Shire?" Flinn questioned.
"Or teach them to defend themselves," he suggested. "I realize the older ones might scoff at the idea, but many our age have grown up during your visits, they trust you, and the other dwarves. They'll listen to you, and follow your lead should trouble arise. Please, Flinn…I hate the idea of my parents being unprotected. I know that Holly and little Fundin have Torin to look after them, but he's only one person. It would mean so much to me if you were there." He then got a bit of a smile on his face. "You can stay at Bag End, I asked Sam's father to look after it for me, but I'm willing to bet that the Sackville-Baggins are already measuring the windows for new curtains. If you were there, you could protect my uncle's collection of silver spoons from that cow, Lobelia."
This last part made Flinn and Frodo laugh, for both of them knew just how greedy Lobelia could be.
"I'll go to the Shire, Frodo," Flinn promised. "I'll do all I can to see that when you come home, safe and sound from your journey, you not only have a home to live in…but all the silver spoons you could desire in which to slurp your soup."
"Hey! A well-bread hobbit never slurps his soup!" Frodo said indignantly.
"Well, I guess you're no well-bread hobbit then," Flinn teased back, just dodging a sock in the arm by a disgruntled Frodo. "But I wouldn't have you any other way."
"Yah…that's probably why we're such good friends," the hobbit laughed. "Since you're stubborn as a goat and have the manners of a troll yourself, you don't mind a bit of soup slurping."
"Oh…ouch!" Flinn cried, placing his hand over his heart as if he had just been stabbed. "You wound me, Frodo."
"Yah…but you'll get over it," he chuckled. "You always do."
"Yes," Flinn nodded. "Yet there is one thing I'll never do, Frodo."
"And what's that?" he asked.
"I'll never stop being your sword-brother…or your friend," was Flinn's reply.
"Nor shall I," Frodo stated. "Now, come…I need your help and advice on what I should be taking on this quest. You know I don't know the first thing about travel."
"Well, if you ask my amad, she would say to pack lots of clean underclothes," Flinn said with a roll of his eyes, which had the both of them laughing all the way back to the main house.
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It took over a month before the company was prepared to leave, with everyone turning out to wish them a safe, and successful, journey. Gimli had spoken to Flinn for a long time the day before, discussing the quest and giving him a letter to send back to his parents in Erebor, explaining as much as he dared about where he was going and why. But now, he approached the younger dwarf and reluctantly handed him another stack of letters.
"These…well, these I only want you to deliver if something bad should happen to me while on this quest," Gimli told his prince.
Flinn nodded in understanding, though it pained him greatly to imagine performing such a request. The younger dwarf found it interesting that included in the stack of sealed missives, there was also one addressed to Astra.
"So…you think this lass is your one after all?" Flinn asked, looking up at his cousin for confirmation.
"Well…near as I can figure, without ever experiencing such feelings before," Gimli said with a shrug of his shoulders. "But if I had to put money on it…well, yah, I think she is."
"I really wish it were me going, and not you, Gimli," Flinn told him, dearly prayed that no harm would come to his cousin, and that he would never be forced to see any of the letters delivered
"No, lad," he said with a reassuring smile. "I volunteered…and I don't regret it. It just gives me something to look forward to on my return." He then reached up and put his hand on Flinn's shoulder. "I know how you feel…about being left behind. I too was not allowed to join Thorin's company when they went to retake Erebor, simply because I was a few years too young. I was nearly as old as your Uncle Kili…but still, they wouldn't let me go, saying it was too dangerous. I know it hurts, but don't let it eat you up inside. Won't do nobody any good."
"Thank you, Gimli," Flinn nodded, appreciating his words of comfort. "Take care of yourself…and Frodo for me."
"I will," he smiled, and then with one final embrace for both Flinn and Frerin, he made his way over to where the rest of the company had gathered
Next, Frodo approached and hugged Flinn tightly, the two reluctant to let go, for that would mean it was time to part. When they did at last, Flinn reached into his pocket and pulled out a red wooden button, handing it to his friend with a sad smile.
"I thought since it was red, and kind of looked like the fires over Mount Doom, it might get you there safely," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I couldn't find anything else more fitting, so I hope it works."
"I'm sure it will," Frodo nodded with a grateful smile, placing the sentimental gift into his pocket. "Your buttons have never failed me before, why should they start now?"
"Be careful," Flinn told him, thinking that he was sounding more and more like his amad. "And listen to Gandalf, he's never steered us wrong before."
"I will. And look," Frodo withdrew a short blade, watching as it caught the light and glimmered so prettily. "It's Sting, the sword Bilbo found in the troll caves. Remember, it glows blue when danger is about." Frodo then lowered his voice and stepped closer, opening the collar of his shirt just a bit. "And look what else Bilbo gave me!"
"A mithril shirt!" Flinn gasped, shocked to see something so fine outside of Erebor. "Is that the one that Thorin gifted to Bilbo before the Battle of Five Armies?"
"So he claimed," Frodo nodded, buttoning up once more before any others could see it. "He said he fancied that it would turn even the knives of the Black Riders, and it's as light as anything. I hardly know I have it on."
"Good, it'll make me feel better knowing you're protected by a mithril shirt and an elven blade. I still have my elf dagger hanging in my room back home…though I've never had a chance to see if it glows blue when orcs are nearby, like Sting or Orcrist."
"And I hope you never do," he smiled. Then his tone turned serious once more. "Take care of yourself Flinn," Frodo instructed. "The road to the Shire is not as safe as it once was. You can't protect it for me if you get yourself eaten by wargs on the way, you know."
"Or wolves?" Flinn chuckled.
"Or anything!" Frodo said sternly. "Just stay safe, and be there when I come home. We can celebrate over a pint at the Green Dragon."
"A pint?" Flinn scoffed. "I'll buy us both a full keg!"
"You're on!" Frodo smiled, giving him one final hug before he went to stand with the others.
Elrond stepped forward, holding up his hand in a gesture of parting.
"I bid you all farewell, and may you find the courage within your hearts to complete your mission," the elf lord said in a strong voice. "I have no sage words to give at this parting…only to advise that you look to each other for advice and strength. Go with the blessings of all the free people…elves, dwarves, men, and hobbits."
And so they departed, with Aragorn the last to go. The would-be king paused at the gate, bowing his head not only to Elrond…but to Arwen as well, placing his hand over his heart as his eyes spoke more eloquently than mere words.
Flinn stood there for a long time, until he could no longer see Frodo or the others - the nine walkers, and one pony named Bill, having traveled beyond his sight. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Frerin standing at his side, looking at him with grief filled eyes.
"Now what, brother?" he asked, as if he already knew that Flinn had some plan in mind.
"Now…we head for the Shire!" he stated firmly.
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Flinn sent the dwarf soldiers that came with them back home, saying that they would be needed in Erebor, should the enemy choose to attack. For by aiding those set on destroying Sauron and his ring, they had essentially declared war with him. Both princes wrote letters to their parents and their Uncle Thorin, hoping they would understand their reasons for traveling on to the Shire, adding in Gimli's message as well. Flinn had promised his sword-brother that he would protect his home and family, and that was exactly what he aimed to do.
Elladan, Elrohir, and the Ranger named Halbarad, offered to escort them to the borders of the Shire, claiming that Aragorn had instructed them to gather the rest of the Dúnedain, for they would soon be needed in great strength. This pleased the two dwarves greatly, for even as brave as they were, Flinn and Frerin had not been looking forward to making the journey alone.
Elrond and Flinn parted in peace, the young dwarf's emotions at last simmering enough to see that the elf lord had not kept him from going out of spite, but for legitimate reasons. The dwarf prince still felt he could have been of help to Frodo, but he held no ill will towards Elrond over his decision.
So, only three days after the fellowship had departed Rivendell, a much smaller company headed out in the opposite direction. On the way, the five did encounter several problems, but nothing two elves, two dwarves and a Ranger couldn't handle.
When they at last stood on the hill overlooking the Shire, they all marveled at the tranquility that lay before them.
"It would be a shame indeed if the enemy were to ever enslave these peaceful hobbits," Elladan said.
"Aye," Halbarad nodded in agreement. "The Shire-folk are a simple people, but of great worth. Little do they know how long we have labored to keep them and their lands safe. It was originally at Gandalf's request that we Rangers patrolled their borders, yet in time, we have all come to realize their value, and I begrudge it not."
"Yet, if the Rangers depart and head east, that will leave no one but you to see to the safety of the Shirelings, Master Dwarves," Elrohir warned. "And my father, while more than willing to send aid should you call for it, is still quite a distance away. Are you certain you wish to take on such a weighty assignment?"
"I have sworn to do so," Flinn nodded firmly. "I will not let Frodo down."
"I believe you will not," Halbarad agreed, giving the two dwarves a nod of respect, before heading off in search of his comrades.
"Be safe, Princes of Erebor," Elladan told them.
"For should you come to harm, your father and uncle will not look kindly upon us for leaving you here unprotected," Elrohir added.
"We absolve you of all responsibility for us and our safety," Flinn told them. "Go in peace."
And with a final wave, the two elf twins took off, following Halbarad into the Old Forest.
"Well, Frerin," Flinn said with a heavy sigh. "Are you sure you wish to do this? It was I who made an oath to Frodo…not you."
"I think you know by now that where you go…I go," he laughed, giving his brother a playful wink. "Besides, you'll need someone to bandage up every cut and scrape you get while attempting to teach these peaceful farmers how to use a sword, bow, and ax."
"Let's just hope they're quick learners," Flinn nodded, urging Sunny down off the hill and into the land of the Hobbits.
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Back in Erebor, winter was upon them, with a thick blanket of snow covering the mountain and all of Dale. Even half the lake had frozen over, making it more difficult for those in Esgaroth to fish. Thankfully, it had been a good summer, and the three kingdoms had stored up enough food to get them through without starving.
It was during one of the more fierce snow storms that the half frozen company of soldiers arrived back in Erebor. Thorin was alerted immediately, desperate for news about the company he had sent to Rivendell. They had not expected any messages from them, since the ravens were forbidden to fly over the Misty Mountains any longer, so to have spotted the returning party was joyous news.
Yet, the smiles on most of the faces died when they saw the number that returned.
"Only twelve?" Thorin questioned, as the dwarves dismounted and began to shake off the snow. "There were fifteen when you left. Where are Princes Flinn and Frerin…as well as Master Gimli?" A cold fear gripped the king's heart, not wishing to hear any bad news concerning his nephews.
"Gimli and the princes stayed behind in Rivendell, sending us back to help fortify the mountain," the captain of the soldiers informed his king. "They bid us deliver these to you, Your Majesty."
Thorin gave an audible sigh of relief, taking the scrolls from the near frost bitten fingers of the dwarf.
"I thank you for your fine service, soldier," Thorin stated. "Now, take your troops and find a warm mug of ale to wrap your hands around, you've earned that, and a lot more. I will see you first thing in the morning though for a full report."
"Yes, King Thorin," he bowed, hurrying off with the others, eager for food and warmth.
"Thorin!" Fili called, racing down the stairs that led to the front gates, with Sier and Freya hot on his heels. "I was told the company has returned!" Yet, fear replaced the blond prince's look of joy when he could not see any sign of his sons. "Where are they? Where's Flinn and Frerin?"
"And Gimli?" came Gloin's next words, for he too had heard the news and came running. "Where's my lad as well?"
"Oh, please tell me they're not…not…" Dena couldn't even speak the words, too afraid that doing so would make them true.
"I've been informed that they are well," Thorin quickly assured the distraught looking parents. "That Flinn, Frerin, and Gimli did not return with the soldiers, but instead sent these." Here he held out the letters, one to each set of parents, keeping the one addressed to himself.
Fili was quick to open his, scanning the words with eager eyes, while Sier read over his shoulder. Gloin and Dena did the same, all four of them letting out a cry of dismay when they learned where their children truly were.
"Flinn and Frerin have gone to the Shire at Frodo's request and intend to remain there for the foreseeable future!" Fili all but shouted, disbelief in his tone.
"And Gimli has gone on some secret quest devised by Elrond and Gandalf! He can't even tell us where he's headed or how long he will be gone!" Gloin fumed. "What was he thinking?"
"What were any of them thinking?" Sier cried, covering her mouth with her hand in shock at the tears began to flow. "I knew I should never have let them leave this mountain!"
"Amad, please, don't cry," Freya begged, wrapping her arms around her mother in a soothing manner. "Flinn and Frerin are smart and well trained, they'll be just fine in the Shire. Torin is there too, and he can help them protect the hobbits."
"But what about Gimli?" Dena wept. "He may be almost one-hundred and forty, but he's still my baby…my only baby!"
"Let us take this discussion to my council chambers," Thorin suggested, their shouts of despair attracting a bit of unwanted attention. "Perhaps my letter will shed some more light on the situation."
Just then Kili and Tauriel came hurrying towards them, the elleth's belly now making it more than evident that she was with child.
"We heard that Flinn and Frerin were back!" he called out, skidding to a stop as he took note of the distress in everyone's faces. "What's the matter? What did I miss?"
"A lot, little brother," Fili grumbled, taking the weeping Sier from his daughter and steering her in the direction that Thorin was now heading. "Follow us, and we'll explain…as soon as we figure it all out ourselves.
In the end, even Fili and Sier could not fault their sons for taking on the assignment of watching over the Shire, knowing that Frodo had been right to worry about its safety. Yet since the journey that Gimli had signed on for was secret in nature, they were left wondering about his motives, as well as his possible fate. Gloin and Dena were proud of him, to be sure, but their concerns were great indeed. Still, what was done was done, and all any could do was wait and worry…a parent's worst nightmare.
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Meanwhile, Flinn and Frerin had taken up residence in Bag End, much to the pleasure of Hamfast Gamgee, since Frodo had been correct…Lobelia and Lotho had been demanding that he hand over the key on a daily basis. Yet the knowledge that two dwarves, with weapons, were sent by Frodo to inhabit the place caused them to give Bag End a very wide berth.
With the help of their half dwarf cousin, the two princes rounded up any and all who wished to learn how to fight. Once they had enough willing students, Flinn, Frerin, and Tor began holding battle classes in the party field every day between second breakfast and afternoon tea. Of course they were forced to stop practice for elevenses and luncheon, but for the most part, the hobbits took their training seriously. And every week, more and more would join them, until the dwarves felt that they had a rather impressive fighting force.
Still, Flinn was not one to rest on his laurels, and worked tirelessly in the forges, crafting weapons for his new soldiers to use. Freddy, Rufus, and Hugo Bolger helped out when they could, the three brothers always in high demand for their iron work. But even they got to be rather handy at forging swords, much to Flinn's delight.
Frerin often worked with the new physician in Hobbiton, a Doctor Boffin, teaching him all the new and useful techniques he had picked up working with the elves, men, and dwarves. At first the hobbit wanted nothing to do with such newfangled ideas…but when Frerin was able to save little May Cotton, after she fell through the frozen pond and nearly died, his opinion quickly changed.
And though things were relatively peaceful in the Shire, Flinn simply could not rest easy, for something was gnawing at the back of his mind, he just couldn't put his finger on what it was.
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"Has anyone noticed how Lotho Sackville-Baggins seems to be rather flush with money these days?" Torin asked his two dwarf cousins one evening at dinner.
Flinn and Frerin usually took their meals at the Green Dragon, or with friends, since neither one had ever learned to cook for themselves. And according to Frerin, what Flinn did attempt to fix wasn't fit to feed a warg. So that night they had gladly accepted Tor and Holly's invitation to dine at their snug little hobbit hole.
"To be honest, I've tried not to take any more note of that sour faced crab-apple than necessary," Flinn said with a snort of derision, gesturing for young Fundin to come closer so he could demonstrate to the lad once more how to hold his whittling knife. "Here, lad, like this. My adad always says that a knife should be held firmly…but not too tight, or you run the risk of cutting yourself with jerky motions." Torin and Holly's son was now twelve, and growing like a weed. And even though the lad had never met his grandfather, Dwalin, it was shocking how much he favored Erebor's war chief in temperament. He was more driven than most hobbit children, always wanting to learn new things, and if they didn't come easily to him, he would often get upset. But he would eventually simmer down and keep trying until he was a master at whatever he attempted. Once Flinn felt he had Fundin back on the right track, he returned his attention to Torin. "Is it strange that he would have money? I thought his family was a bit well-to-do."
"They've always wanted everyone to think so, but I believe they mostly put on a good show," Holly told them, joining them in the parlor as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. "Lobelia would have you think her clothes are the latest fashions, but I know for a fact that she just gives what she already has a make-over and thinks she's fooling everyone."
"But word is, that Lotho's been buying up property left and right near the Southfarthing," Torin continued, concern written all over his face. "And some have even said they've seen him talking with strange men near the borders, men wearing a strange emblem on their tunics…that of a white hand. Have you ever heard of such a symbol, Flinn?"
"No…not me," the older prince said with a shake of his head. "Have you, Frerin?" he asked, knowing his brother always had his nose stuck in one kind of book or another.
"It doesn't sound familiar," Frerin confessed.
"Well…it don't sit well with me, I can tell you that," Torin huffed, never having liked that cranky hobbit or his mother. "And something else that's been bothering me…we had a bumper crop of pipe-weed last year, but for some reason, everyone seems to be running low on the stuff. I had to pay three times the normal price for a small bag of Longbottom leaf at the market the other day!"
"Oh, you poor thing," Frerin chuckled. "You should cut down puffing on your pipe anyway, I've done some tests, and I believe smoking makes you short of breath."
"Leave it to you, Frerin, to get all medical on us and ruin the pleasure of a good smoke," Torin said with a roll of his eyes.
"Do what you want, I'm just telling you what I believe," Frerin stated with a shrug of his shoulders. "But don't come crying to me when you can't finish plowing Farmer Cotton's cornfield this spring without stopping to take several breaks."
"Do you think Lotho's newfound wealth has anything to do with the pipe-weed shortage?" Flinn asked, still stewing over Torin's observations.
"Hard to say," Tor replied. "But my adad always told me, 'if it swims like a duck, quacks like a duck, and has webbed feet…it sure ain't no fish'. I say we should keep an eye on Lotho, just to make sure he ain't up to no-good."
"Of course he's up to no-good," Holly laughed. "He's breathing, ain't he?"
"You got us there," Torin chuckled, pleased by his wife's little jab.
"Now, enough of this gloomy-gus talk," she told the four males. "Come have some dinner, before it gets cold."
"Yes, Ma'am!" Frerin cried, leaping to his feet as he rushed to the dining room, always eager for a good home cooked meal…that hadn't been made by Flinn.
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So, through the months, Flinn and Frerin worked as hard as they could to shore up the Shire, making it safe from any who might try and invade the lands. They kept their eyes open and did their best to discover if Lotho was causing any mischief, but the hobbit was a sly one, and if he was getting into trouble, Flinn, Frerin and Tor couldn't catch him in the act. However, they were hearing about more and more sightings of frightening looking men around the outskirts of the shire, causing the dwarf princes to alert the Bounders, telling them to be on the lookout.
Still, things were relatively quiet and no one appeared overly concerned. And on quiet nights, Flinn would often wander up on the hillside, and look to the west, thinking not only of the family they left behind in Erebor, but of his sword-brother, Frodo, as well.
"Here, put this on," Frerin told his brother, handing him a thick coat. "You'll catch your death out here in only that thin tunic."
"Now you sound like Amad," Flinn chuckled, though he followed orders and slipped into the heavy garment. "Next you'll be telling me to eat all my vegetables and pick up my dirty socks."
"Well, you can toss those husband-vegetables to the pigs for all I care," Frerin said, wrinkling his nose and sticking out his tongue, making Flinn laugh just a bit. "But picking up your clothes would keep the house a bit cleaner. And you don't want Frodo coming home to a hobbit hole that smells like dirty dwarf do you?"
"I just want Frodo to come home," Flinn said with a heavy sigh.
"And he will, I'm sure of it," the younger brother said, knowing just how much Flinn worried for his friend. "Gimli too, along with all the others. And when they do, things will be much better, since Sauron will be destroyed."
"I hope so," the blond prince nodded. "It just seems such a large task for such a small group."
"Hey, haven't dwarves been proving for thousands of years that size doesn't matter?" Frerin teased.
"Always the optimist, aren't you, Naddith?" Flinn said, cracking a smile at last. "I'm glad you're here with me."
"Well, where else would I be?" Frerin asked. "Besides, there was no way I was going home and facing Adad and Amad alone. We still might be murdered by them yet, but at least we'll perish together."
"I just pray that our parents' wrath is the only thing we have to worry about," Flinn said, still unable to shake his uneasy feeling. "Come on, let's head down to the Green Dragon, I have the need for a few pints of strong ale and the sound of laughter."
"Well, those are two things you can always count on with hobbits around," Frerin chuckled, throwing his arm around his brother, as the two of them headed down the lane.
Well, now you know what Flinn and Frerin will be doing while Frodo is off getting rid of that pesky jewlery that no one wants. Well, Sauron wants it, but he ain't getting it!
Fili, Sier, Gloin and Dena are not too happy...but they will cope.
And what is Lotho up to? Hmmmmm...
I do hope you enjoy my little twists on things here. I'm having a fun time writing them. ha ha.
And if the FF site is still not sending out notices of new chapters, I will post again on Tuesday evening, the 16th.
Guest Reviews:
Feu d'Argent: Oh, boy...I love puzzles. Yep, Gimli will now have the best of both worlds, a pretty wife AND an elf BFF. Yes, Frodo will indeed come out alive...if not totally unhurt. And Frerin will be at Flinn's side no matter what. As for what they will do...well, I think you just found out. Thanks.
gginsc: yes, poor Flinn. But I couldn't have him go and mess up the quest...I needed things to happen just as they originaly had, and Flinn would have really put a kink in that. ha ha. Besides, I have better uses for him now. ha ha. Thanks