The first thought to scramble to your mind was 'ouch.' The second was 'what the heck just happened?' There are magnificently colourful lights waltzing above you, filling your vision as your eyes are fixed wide open in shock. The last thing you remember is setting off that firework, and what you see before you must be the result. Sudden bursts of green and blue and red and every other colour you could imagine dance in patterns amongst the stars.
"Ah," You hear someone groan, "Are you alright, (y/n)?"
You roll off of your saviour onto the grass to feel it's coolness against your burnt face. You give out a little yelp as you face plant the ground and manage to mumble a disgruntled "No."
"(Y/n)! Pippin! Are you two alright?" A familiar voice gets closer and closer towards you. Someone puts you onto your back and you stare up to meet the slightly teary eyes of Merry and Pippin, both faces filled with worry and strife. A rough cough escapes your dry throat as you put a hand to Pippin's cheek. His hair is black and singed slightly around his still smiling face, making you feel even worse for being so reckless.
"Pippin? Are you hurt? I'm sorry, you shouldn't have had to do that. You fool."
"Well if I hadn't, you wouldn't be here, now would yeh?" He smiles, pecking your forehead. "I'm a little bruised from pullin' yeh back, but I'll be fine. Yeh face should be okay - it's only a little red at most, right Merry?"
"Oh absolutely; a pinky blush, definitely. But I think we should get going now - don't wanna get in trouble or anything!" At that, Merry holds out his hand to you smiling and you take it gratefully. Pippin holds you underneath your arms as you stumble back onto your feet.
"Right, where are we going then?" You ask.
"Back to the party, of course!' Beams Pippin, "No one will suspect a thing!"
You brush yourself down slightly before begginging to walk back to the festival. The moon shines high in the sky, watching over The Shire - the twinkling fairy lights that had now been lit, the seemingly increased crowds of people, the dusky haze left from the explosion rolling over the hills. As you approach, the sounds of music and chatter grow, the light becoming brighter and warmer. You try to stay near the edge until your face no longer feels hot. Pippin and Merry retreat to the stacks of food with a promise to return to you as soon as possible.
You begin to fumble with your hands as you look down at your feet. Guilt had begun to settle on your shoulders and questions played in your mind: what if Pippin hadn't pulled you back? What if the firework went off at a different angle? What if the explosion was more powerful? What if... You dred to think as you press the palms of your hands to your face in an attempt to cool you down. The relief is immensely unexpected as you pull back to cover your cheeks and eyes, a pleasant ice slowly creeping over them. This time, as you pull back, you hear raised voices coming from not too far away.
"Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took! I might have known such clowns as yourselves would be up to childish tricks!"
You begin to canter towards the voice until it comes into view who is talking. You carefully edge behind a nearby tree to spot Gandalf looking down greatly at both Pippin and Merry. Sam and Frodo were stood behind Gandalf, both with their arms crossed and brows low in disappointment. You felt as if you should take the blame, it was your fault after all for lighting the firework. As you step forward, a twig snaps under your imposing foot and catches Frodo's attention. His head shoots in your direction, catching your eyes like he always did. His faun lips begin to open before he turns to say something to Gandalf. You turn around where you are to push your back against the trunk, heart racing in fear. He wouldn't tell Gandalf would he? Your heartbeat heavies sending thick pulses through your chest. Your face returned to the same heat as earlier as sweat starts to bead at your forehead. You could only imagine what vile act Gandalf would set upon you if he found out.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you peek your head over a low branch to check the situation once more. Merry and Pippin's heads seem to be hung even lower in shame as Sam joins in with Gandalf's rage. Frodo is nowhere to be seen - maybe he felt bad like you? They didn't really deserve what ever punishment they were about to receive. They couldn't have done it without you. Probably.
After thinking long and hard, you decide to take responsibility for your actions. Hesitantly taking a few tiny steps forward, you focus on your breathing and how you'd explain. 'Well you see, sir, I just happened to be by the tent when Pippin and Merry were -'
Your thoughts are lost as someone pulls you back hard by the waist and towards the tree. You try to scream but a soft yet firm hand wraps around your mouth. Tightly closing your eyes, you feel yourself being pinned to the trunk. You hear your name close to your ear; such a familiar voice, sending a sweet shiver down your spine.
"Frodo?" Your voice comes out slightly husky as you open your eyes to meet his face. He was close again, like earlier in the forrest, with his liquid eyes dancing so bright even in the moonlight.
"Are you crazy going over there?" He snarls, "Gandalf doesn't take kindly to see sort of matters - no one can reason with him now."
"We'll actually..." You start, "It was kind of my fault. I set the firework off. I shouldn't have done it and I know that."
As you speak, the colour drains from Frodo's face, his jaw slowly drops, his eyes widen. The grip on you tightens as he leans closer, your foreheads almost touching.
"I could kill them," he mumbles, looking back towards the argument. "Sam promised me he'd keep you safe, and those two idiots should know better. I'm sorry they pulled you into that." Frodo looks back at you, the only shine from his eyes being the saltwater that had begun to form in the corners.
"It's no one's fault but my own, Frodo." You assured him, placing your small hand against his cheek to wipe a tear away with your thumb. Cautiously, you smile up at him, hoping for a mirror. Frodo's charming grin plasters his face and his eyes light up once more. You can feel you breathing becoming heavier and quicker, the lights in the tree blurring in with the stars. All your touch dulls except for the feeling of Frodo's reassuring hand on your shoulder and your palm on his face. You bet he doesn't even know he makes you feel like this, as he seems to be keeping his cool perfectly, icy eyes piercing into your darting ones.
"You've hurt yourself." Frodo worries as he pulls down the shoulder of you dress to reveal your battered collar. A small yet deep cut runs through a cluster of purple bruises where you had been tackled to the ground. You hadn't noticed anything until Frodo showed you; no pain at all. Hesitantly, you stroke your hand over it, a dull sting making its way through your sternen. You could tolerate it just enough to heave in a gruntle.
"Oh, I'm sure it's nothing." You smile wearily, pulling back at your clothes. "I'll sort it when I get home."
"No."
"What?"
"Let me take care of it. Come on, I'll take you back to Bag-End - I'm sure Bilbo won't be back until later anyway. There's some books somewhere about healing herbs and such that could probably help."
"Thank you," You simper, "You really don't have to. But... Before we go, you promised me a dance, Mr Frodo."
Frodo's smile turned into a slight grimace, "I really think we should be going /now/. If anyone finds out that you were involved, heaven knows what would happen."
Letting a small sigh escape your mouth, you decide that it's probably best to leave everything behind. "I still feel guilty, leaving them to take all the punishment..."
"They can handle it - Gandalf isn't that bad, really."
"We should get going then." You smile, taking Frodo's hand and pulling him along the cobblestone path. He's surprised a little at your touch, yet trails behind you obediently before catching you around your knees and waist. The elevation followed quickly as you let out a small, unexpected yelp. Both of you exchange giddy smiles, all the same, keeping gaze in the other's eyes. You link your hands behind his neck, catching his curls in your fingers now and then.
"You really don't have to do this, Frodo." You say.
"Hey, what are friends for?" He smiles, pushing open the gate to Bag-End with his hip. Friends. Of course he was your friend, and it was silly for you to think anything else. His worry and manners were because you are his friend. And he could never see you how you saw him.