Chapter One
Pants are for Boys
Frodo Gardner Gamgee was sitting at the kitchen table, eagerly awaiting his breakfast that his mother was cooking when his father, Samwise Gamgee, dragged his daughter in the front door by the ear at the crack of dawn. He was sleepily wondering why an 11 year old boy like himself should have to wake up before the sun to help his father with the garden, when he heard the front door slam open. Frodo immediately leant back in his chair so that he could get a good view. Framed in the doorway was his father and older sister. He saw that Elanor was being led to the house by the ear and smiled grimly. Just as he'd thought, Elanor getting into trouble again.
As he watched, Sam threw Elanor onto the floor of the front hall. "Ow." She said, as her legs folded from under her. She grumbled something Elvish and then threw back over shoulder, "I hate you!"
"Oh, you say that so much it's lost all meaning." Sam replied, grabbing her arm and dragging her on her knees into the kitchen. Rosie, his wife, clicked her tongue exasperatedly at this display of primitive discipline.
"Let go! Argh!" Elanor managed to free herself, standing up. "What kind of father are you?"
"I haven't even begun with you, Elanor!"
"Belt her, Dad!"
"We don't belt people in this house."
"Yeah," Elanor put in. "he just throws me to the floor."
Sam pushed her. "Ow!" Elanor exclaimed as she collided with the floor. "Wait, not ow. Are you feeling okay, father, this stuff usually hurts."
Sam sat in his chair, leaning on the wooden table wearily. He shot a look at his eldest daughter.
"Do you want to ruin things for me?" He asked. "It seems like every week you are doing something you bloody well know you shouldn't. I've only just been elected Mayor, for Valar's sake!"
Elanor stood eying her father with a steady, slightly contemptuous look "Like you ever cared about being Mayor. And besides, what can they do? The election's over."
"They can usurp me."
"Really? Me pulling a few pranks can do all that?" Elanor asked cynically.
Sam scoffed. "A few pranks, is that what you call what you did?"
Elanor smiled nastily, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't see what's so horrible with teasing a couple of dogs."
"You mean, stringing them up from a tree, w-"
"You never liked those dogs anyway."
Frodo wearily got up from the table. This could go on for a while. As he was making an escape, a door opened to reveal a tousle-haired, sleepy-eyed Merry, blearily gazing at Frodo to ask "Elanor and Dad fighting again?"
Frodo nodded. Merry groaned exasperatedly and slammed his door shut.
"I can't believe Dad is making stay home for a month, working, and I have to work twice as hard as everybody else. The man's a sadist." Elanor hissed as they were walking home from town, carrying large bags of shopping.
"So are you." Frodo rolled his eyes. "Elanor, he could have done worse. He could have made you wear a dress."
Elanor never wore dresses. Their mother had spent many fruitless efforts trying to convince her daughter to wear them and not trousers.
"Pants are for boys." Rosie would often scream in exasperation. Elanor still wore them.
"He could do a lot worse than that, Frodo. Don't you listen to his stories? And thank you for encouraging him to belt me!"
"No problem."
"Hey, it's Gamgee!" Came a shout behind them. Elanor shot a look behind her and smiled. A group of boys her age were coming their way.
"What you doing, Gamgee? You actually helping your little brother?" the tall (well, taller) one with dark brown curls demanded.
"Her name is Elanor. Elanor. Got it?" Frodo looked the guy square in the eyes before splitting pain shot up his arm. He looked down to see Elanors hand clamped firmly around his wrist, twisting, squeezing, her nails digging into him. He looked up to her face to see her give him a warning look.
"Yeah." She said to the boy. "My dad's forcing me to."
"Why?"
"I did something." She waved it away dismissively.
They nodded. "Hey," one of them spoke up. "The lot of us are going to stea-"He was cut off as one of the others elbowed him in the guts, with a glance at Frodo. "Wanna come?" he said anyway.
"She can't." Frodo said before she could.
"Sorry to hear that." Said the first one, whose name was Corvus. "Be seeing you, Gamgee."
When they left, Elanor glared at her brother. "You know," She spat out. "Contrary to Dad's beliefs, I am allowed to have fun." She pointed in the direction of the boys. "That's fun."
"Yeah, crime is fun." Frodo smiled sarcastically, continuing to walk. "You really are trying to ruin things for Dad, aren't you? There is already enough talk of Elanor Gamgee, the girl who wears pants, gets on better with boys than girls- there is some wicked talk about that, some people have sick minds- and of course, the headstrong, rebellious streak in her that may put her in jail some day. Man, there is good gossip on you."
Elanor just kept walking. Frodo walked in silence for awhile then asked, "Why do you hate your name?"
"What are you talking about?" Elanor frowned.
"Those boys. They call you Gamgee, not Elanor."
"That's their idea."
"But you encourage it. You hurt my arm to stop me from putting a stop to it."
"The name is fine, I don't mind it, it just seems so… it's a crap name, ok?"
"Frodo Baggins gave you that name."
Elanors face changed. "Frodo Baggins." She sneered. "Yeah, he's a genius."
Frodo stopped. "Oh, I get it." He said, understanding. Elanor had never been overly fond of Frodo Baggins. In fact, she made no effort to hide the fact that she didn't like him in the slightest. Frodo Gamgee always got defensive when she did this. He was named after the guy, after all.
"You don't get it." Elanor said softly. Little Pippin was running towards them with a huge grin on his face, as fast as his stubby little legs could carry him.
"We'll talk later." Frodo sighed.
"Do you see that?" Largo, the old hobbit who sometimes checked the docks at the Grey Havens, exclaimed. His partner, Hal, peered out to sea. A strange looking ship was coming their way, too far away to see what kind it was.
"What lies in that direction?" Largo asked.
"Don't know. I think…" he paused. "…I think over there's what the Elves used to call the Undying Lands."
"They're not real." Largo scoffed, his eyes still trained on the ship uncertainly.
"Even if they were, no ship ever comes from The Undying Lands. Everybody's in such a rush to get to 'em."
"Well, there's one coming now and at that speed they'll be here sometime this evening." Largo turned to his friend. "Fancy staying to see what their business is?"
The Gamgee Children were supposed to be working hard in the garden, but seeing as their father was off doing something Mayor-ly, they were mostly taking their time, slacking off.
For all of you who don't know, this is the way it works: Elanor, the eldest, is 13, Frodo is 11, Rose is 9, Merry is 7, Pippin is 5, Goldilocks is 3, and Hamfast and Daisy, who were inside because they're too young, are 2 and 1.
"You are not!"
"Am too!"
"Are not!"
"Am too! Hey, Frodo, don't I look like Boromir?"
"You don't!"
"Why," Elanor asked, confused and angry (she gets angry often) "are you trying to compare to members of the Fellowship?"
"It's fun."
Elanor shook her head.
"Ok," Frodo clapped his hands together, taking charge. "Merry and Pippin are very much like the Merry and Pippin, Rose is….Gandalf."
"Why am I Gandalf? I want to be Ma."
"Ma ain't part of the Fellowship!"
"And I'm Legolas." The lisping voice of Goldilocks stated quietly.
"Of course you are, Goldie." Frodo ruffled her golden curls. "You're the little elf among us."
"That's why she's Dads favourite." Elanor muttered, but Frodo heard her just the same.
"What about you?" Merry asked him, oblivious.
"I," He strode about importantly, "am Aragorn."
Everybody laughed. Frodo scowled.
"Who's Elanor?" Pippin asked loudly.
"Leave me out of this."
Frodo turned and stared at her a while. "Elanor's Dad." He announced finally. Her head shot up.
"No!" she gasped.
"She doesn't seem like Dad," Rose puzzled, "She's more…more Gollum." A wide smile broke out as everyone snickered. Elanor squinted at her sister.
"He's not part of the Fellowship either, idiot."
"Oh, but it fits." Merry chortled.
"I reckon she's more Dad." Pippin said, gazing at his golden haired sister. "See that was a Dad gesture." As Elanor threw down her shovel and ran her hands through her hair, frustrated.
"Let's just say I'm like both of them and stop this silly game." She gritted out of a wide, falsely nice smile that didn't hide her grinding teeth.
"You can't be both of them; they're two entirely different people!" Rose exclaimed, sitting up abruptly, sandy hair falling into her face.
"And yet they're remarkably similar." Elanor drawled, now leaning on her shovel. Seeing all the confused faces she said, "Oh, come on! They have the same initials for Valars sake!" She sighed and started to dig.
"You're not making any sense." Frodo told her.
Elanor shot him an exasperated look. "They're just similar, ok? They both have dual personalities and they both talk to themselves." She paused, shovelling up a particularly stubborn piece of dirt. The she said, "In fact, I doubt Gollum was even real. He was probably just something Dad imagined, a delusion based on folklore and started by too much time under the harsh Gondor Sun."
"Frodo Baggins said he was real." Merry spoke up defiantly.
"Frodo Baggins is a liar!" Elanor growled, turning her dark stare to him now.
Everybody looked confused. Everybody felt confused.
"I just don't understand why you hate him so much." Frodo argued, brushing it off.
"I just do." Elanor said through gritted teeth.
"Why?" Rose cut in.
"Why do you guys love him so much?!" Elanor turned on her though she was shouting at them all in general. "What has he done that is so special?"
"Dad likes him. He's very loyal to-" Merry sheepishly stated.
"That's Dad's problem!" Elanor ranted. "He's so loyal to a rich boy who can't take care of himself! He doesn't realise that Frodo just saw him as a servant, a slave and our lives are better without him!"
"I don't think-"
"It's true. What was Dad before Frodo Baggins left? A servant, a gardener, someone that could be spared, could be replaced. Frodo Baggins leaves, Dad gets a beautiful wife, becomes Mayor of the Shire with a whole lot of kids. And he is so stupid, he doesn't even notice!"
Her siblings were silent. She had never spoken these things aloud before, or not all of them at once. And they seemed to ring true.
"I just don't get it." Elanor said quietly now. "Why would he risk his life for him? Dad did everything on that journey, and Frodo took all the credit. Dad does nothing."
"Well… that's different." Frodo's voice rang clear, dry and sceptical. "That's an interesting view on it, but why would Dad be so loyal to him if he were all that bad?"
"Because Dad CAN'T SEE WHAT'S RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM!" Elanor screeched, throwing down her shovel. "AND THAT IS THAT FRODO IS NOT A FANTASTIC HERO! HE'S A LIAR, A THIEF AND HE'S SO IDIOTIC! HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING THAT DESERVES ANY PRAISE! HE SUCCUMBED TO THE RING! BECAUSE HE'S WEAK!" Elanor stopped, clutching her hair in her hands. She began to breathe heavily. All that screaming can do that to you, you know.
"Why thief?" Merry whispered, as if he expected Elanor to scream at him again.
"What?!" She yelled like she was deaf.
"You said he was a thief. How?" Merrys voice was a little louder now. Elanor just stood there, staring at him but not seeing him. After a minute, she marched to the back door.
"I'm going inside." She told them without looking back.
Frodo shouted at her. "Elanor, what if Dad comes back? You'll be punished for another month." There was a short, muffled curse from behind the door, then Elanor reappeared, angrily taking back up her place. She had hoped that she could get away from them all and just think awhile. Why did she think that Frodo Baggins was a thief? Had he actually stolen anything? There was nothing in the Red Book that indicated that he did. Part of writing history is hiding the truth. A grim voice in her head told her.
She grunted. "Doesn't matter anyway." She found herself saying. "He's dead."
"What?" Frodo said a little too loudly. Elanor gritted her teeth. Dear Elbereth, I'd forgotten he was there. "He didn't die. He sailed to the Undying Lands." Frodo was saying now. He's always trying to prove I'm wrong.
"You really don't understand anything about symbolism, do you?" Elanor said pointedly, like one trying to teach a child their letters. "That whole section about Frodo sailing off to the Undying Lands, it was all symbolic. If you read between the lines, it basically says Frodo died and went to the place where all the good souls go to rest."
Merry scratched his head. "How can you read between lines?"
Elanor stared at him, wondering how she could be related to someone of such questionable intelligence. She hadn't been that dumb when she was that age.
She found herself staring at her other brother, the one named after the hobbit she hated for no apparent reason. Why would you name your kid after him? She was thinking. She shrugged without realising as she was doing so that she said. "Let's just hope he doesn't name one of his kids Bilbo."
Frodo spun around. "What's wrong with Bilbo?"
Largo and Hal waited patiently as the strange ship was moored and banked. They were a little surprised when a small figure stepped onto the docks and began walking towards them. Why, that's a hobbit. Largo thought wildly. Well, the ship looked Elven crafted, who would have expected a hobbit to come out of it?
He couldn't see the hobbit's face, for it was covered by the hood of the grey cloak he was wearing. "Does Samwise Gamgee still live in Bag End?" He asked.
It took Largo awhile to register that he had been asked an important question. A much taller figure had just appeared and seemed to glide over to them. "Y-Yes." He stammered. "H-he's the Mayor of the Shire now, just been elected, for the second time and he-"
"Largo." Hal cut him off dazedly. "You're babbling." The tall one was towering over them now, and Hal was in awe at the sheer size of him. He, too, had his cloak's hood masking his face.
The hobbit smiled at the news that Sam was Mayor. "Of course," He said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. "He would be, wouldn't he?" He looked up at the two in front of him. "Can you take me to him?"
"Yes." Largo gave himself a mental shake. "Yeah, we could, it'll take until tomorrow to get there though."
"That will be fine." The cloaked hobbit shook his head, almost with amusement. "But we'd best be going right now."
Sam walked past the study, stopped and doubled back to it. Elanor was standing by his desk, with the Red Book in her hands, seemingly engrossed in it. Only then did Sam realise what she was wearing.
"That's my shirt."
"Yeah, I'm wearing it." Elanor didn't look up and her voice had a kind of dazed quality to it.
"I noticed. What I really wanted to know was, why?"
"Found it." She looked up and Sam saw that she was wearing a black top underneath and was merely wearing his own as a jacket. It really looked too big for her. While Elanor was already near her father's height (and taller than her mother), Sam was a little large around the stomach and Elanor was so thin it could almost be considered sickly, even more so by the fact that healthy for a hobbit seemed fat to anything else. The shirt hung to Elanors knees and seemed extra baggy around the arms. In short, there was no possible way it could be mistaken for something that belonged to Elanor.
Sam was having one of those rare moments where he really looked at Elanors face and discovered it to be so much like his own. He could remember after she was born, pacing around this very study, talking rather energetically to Mr. Frodo. "…Though as pretty a maidchild as any one could hope for, taking after Rosie more than me, luckily…"
Though, looking at her now, he supposed he had been wrong, Elanor looked more like him than Rosie. Or maybe he'd been right and it was only the way she pulled her face that made her face seem like a feminine version of his own. It wasn't often he had these moments; usually Elanor seemed so different from either of them.
He turned his attention now to the book in her hands. "What are you doing?" he asked, a trace of worry slipping its way into his voice.
"I'm reading." Elanor snapped. I swear, sometimes trying to get information, or even a conversation, from her is like pulling teeth. He thought, rolling his eyes.
"Why that one?"
"Looking for something."
Sam sighed. Walking away, he said, "Don't tear any pages out!" he still remembered last time. It had been three years ago, when Sam had walked in on his daughter ripping pages out of the book.
"Elanor!" he cried. "Elanor, what are you doing!" she had ignored him, ripping out another page. At a loss, he tried to grab her hands, only to feel her tiny wrists slip out of his grasp to continue her work. Sam had stared at the loose papers scattered everywhere, all of Old Mr Bilbo's and Mr Frodo's hard work unravelling and the only thing that came out of his mouth was, "Why?"
Elanor had turned to him. "It doesn't make sense!" She exclaimed. "Bilbo's a problem. Why would Gollum bet his precious present in a riddle competition with him only to hunt it down afterwards? We're going to have to change it that Bilbo stole it and had it in his pocket the whole time, otherwise-"
"Elanor!" he'd cut in. "Bilbo just wrote it that way. It doesn't have to-"
"It's all lies." Elanor said quietly, staring into his eyes as if trying to force him to understand. "It's not the way it happened. To leave it this way doesn't make sense."
"Elanor!" he panted, grabbing the book and trying to get her to release her grip. "I don't want you anywhere near this book again." The book slipped out of her hands and Sam had hurried off to hide it. He hadn't let her near the study for a long time, but Elanor never mentioned it. She simply must have been in one of her strange moods that day.
One day he had come home to find his daughter in the study again, sitting at his desk with the Red Book in front of her, (the pages she had torn out had been sewn back in.) As Sam watched, she checked something in the Red Book, snorted disbelievingly, and wrote something in a smaller green book. She's rewriting it! Sam thought. He opened his mouth to say something when Elanor spoke, not looking up.
"Keep walking, Dad."
Elanor watched her Dad leave, subconsciously running a finger over a seam where he had sewn the pages back in. I didn't grow up the way he wanted me to, she thought, he expected me to be a little flowerchild, like the flower I was named after. I wasn't, I'm not. I wasn't how he planned. Conflicting emotions rushed through her. It seemed there were many parts of her and they were all thinking different things. The daughter was sad, worrying that she was disappointing him, another part was indignant, proud of who she was, another eternally angry at him for unknown reasons and this was just added to the list, another knew exactly why this was but wasn't telling.
Elanor turned her attention back to the book and returned to reading the book she had read over and over during the course of her life.
(A/N) what do you think? Good? Bad? Did you hate it? Did you love it? Did I totally mutilate my own story? Tell me please; just press that little button, right there. That little button sends me reviews, which makes me happy. (It actually makes me go hyper, for some unknown reason. It's better than sugar)
If the fact that I may have insulted you in my summary, (calling you dense and all), I'M SORRY! I'm sorry if that's what is putting off from reviewing. A shoutout to all my friends who reviewed, which is strange because none of them like Lord of the Rings…what the fuck are you doing, reading my story? And a big thank you to you who I don't know who review. Thank you for sharing your opinion, they are valued and considered.
Point of interest, if you listen to Simple Plans song "Perfect"…or any Linkin Park song, practically, from Elanor or Gollum's POV, it takes on a whole different meaning. Hell, you could do it to a lot of songs. I've realised that a lot of songs I like can be twisted to be that way…that's not healthy, is it?