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meluiloth · 4 months

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LOTR Week Day 7: The Fellowship of the Ring

LOTR20 Day 7: Free Day

Summary: Frodo hosts an unexpected party. 2094 words

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.

Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

This particular hobbit hole had a perfectly round door with a yellow brass knob in the exact middle; it boasted a fresh coat of vivid green paint, and the decorative plants by the entrance were lush and trimmed perfectly. It was the nicest hobbit hole anyone could think of.

The inside, however, was decidedly less clean; books, papers, and maps were so plentiful that they were stacked on the floor as well as every surface, and little trinkets and knick-knacks were piled wherever they could fit, making the house look smaller than it actually was.

This was something that Sam was working very hard to remedy—he dashed determinedly from room to room like a bumblebee, trailing dust and frantically organizing everything as best he could, his face flushed red from exertion.

Frodo did not understand his mission, or the severity in which he pursued it—it was all he could do at times to stay out of Sam’s way and avoid being bowled over. “Sam, what is going on?” he exclaimed. “Is anything the matter?”

“I couldn’t tell you now, Mister Frodo,” Sam answered as he was on his way to Frodo’s office, carrying an armful of scrolls and maps. “There’s not enough time!”

“Time for what?” Frodo pressed, taking the maps out of his hands and putting them into the correct drawers. If Sam was so bent on cleaning Bag End, Frodo decided that he could at least make himself useful and help—after all, he was like Bilbo in the sense that his possessions would simply continue to pile up if he wasn’t somehow compelled to clean them—and here he was, quite literally, being spurred into action.

Sam muttered something about how ‘they could be here any moment’, which piqued Frodo’s interest; Sam rarely invited guests to Bag End, something that Frodo knew was for his sake, as he wasn’t as effervescent a host as Sam and Rosie could be (although he had told Sam many times that he was welcome to have whomever he wanted over at any time). The fact that Sam would suddenly take him up on the offer without even letting him know was curious indeed—and although Frodo asked who was coming, Sam was very tight-lipped about the whole thing.

It wasn’t until the early evening, when the sky outside was beginning to be tinged with pink and gold, that a sharp rap came from the door.

Frodo quickly shoved the last of the clutter—a banner he had received from the King of Rohan that he had nowhere to hang—into the nearest closet and rushed to open the door.

Standing there, grinning wide and carrying bowls of punch and mulled cider, were Merry and Pippin.

“Hello, Frodo!” Pippin exclaimed. “Surprised to see us?”

Frodo laughed and answered, “Well, Sam was being so secretive about all this I didn’t know who to expect! Please, come in and make yourselves at home.”

Merry and Pippin gladly obliged, setting the drinks down on the table and commenting on how nice Bag End looked.

“Must’ve taken hours,” Merry said, sitting down on one of the many plush chairs in the living room and propping his feet up on the coffee table.

“Sam did most of it,” Frodo supplied, “so it went shockingly fast. I—”

He was interrupted by another knock on the door, this time heavier. As he went to go greet the newcomer, Frodo called back to Sam: “Who else did you invite?”

Sam trotted up to the door, a bashful grin on his face. “Well, if I told you it would spoil the surprise,” he said, sharing a look with Merry and Pippin.

Frodo opened the door, and was so shocked by what he saw that he stood there for a long moment in awkward silence.

There, on the doorstep, looking quite out-of-place in the quaint town of Hobbiton, were Legolas and Gimli. Gimli was dressed in rich red robes, his beard adorned with intricate braids and beads of silver and gold, but his eyes sparkled even brighter as he let out a hearty laugh and crushed Frodo in an embrace before the hobbit could protest.

Legolas, who was too tall to fit under the doorway without crouching, was also smiling, his fine hair hanging loose about his shoulders; he was clothed less ornately than Gimli, but he looked no less ethereal with his long ears and green silk uniform.

“It’s wonderful to see you,” Frodo managed to sputter out once Gimli had released him. “I had no idea you would be coming!”

Legolas laughed. “Your friend thought it best to keep it a surprise for you,” he explained. “May we come in?”

“Of course,” Frodo said, stepping aside so the Dwarf and the Elf could enter. Legolas still stooped a little, but Gimli was quick in complimenting the size of Frodo’s home.

“It’s just like my father said it was,” he said, “Only cleaner!”

This made Frodo laugh—Bilbo always was a bit of a magpie, and he had never changed in his ways, only passed his habits on to Frodo. “Please, help yourself to anything in the pantry,” he said, opening the door for them; to his credit, he always kept the pantry well-stocked with every type of delicacy and meal, though he rarely entertained guests.

Legolas and Gimli thanked him, setting their own contributions beside the punch: a delicious-looking loaf of bread, speckled with cranberries and orange peels, along with a crate of Dorwinion wine from Legolas, and a whole haunch of roast venison dripping with spiced juice from Gimli.

“Who else is coming?” Frodo asked. He suspected at least Gandalf was on his way.

Sam grinned. “Oh, we’re expecting two more,” he said.

Merry emerged from the pantry, carrying a sticky bun in each hand, and pointed out the window. “There they are now,” he announced.

Frodo went to look for himself, and saw that two people were making their way up the path; he could not tell their faces in the fading light, but he knew one of them was Gandalf by the white robes and tall pointed hat he wore.

When the two of them arrived at Bag End, Frodo was already waiting for them; it was indeed Gandalf, looking older and more wizened than when Frodo had last seen him, carrying a satchel instead of a staff. “My dear Frodo,” he said, putting a hand on the hobbit’s shoulder. “It is good to see you.”

“And you, Gandalf,” Frodo answered with a smile, placing his hand on Gandalf’s. “What a happy surprise!” He turned to look at his companion, and encountered another shock when he saw it was none other than Aragorn, King of Gondor—though he had exchanged his regal crown for a blue velvet hood, and his robes appeared more comfortable than kingly. “Strider,” he greeted.

“Master Underhill,” Aragorn replied, a jovial glint in his eye. “It is a privilege to be here.”

“The privilege is mine,” Frodo said, waving them both into his home. The gentle sound of voices had filled the hall, a welcome change from its usual silence; the others had gathered in the living room, enjoying glasses of punch and sweets. When they saw Aragorn and Gandalf, they all cheered with delight.

“Now our Fellowship is complete,” Legolas said, smiling. “You look older, my friend,” he said to Aragorn.

“Only a year, wiseacre,” Aragorn protested. “Raising an infant and ruling a nation is no easy feat.”

Gimli laughed and chimed in with, “Aye, and a feat I’m glad I’m not required to perform—the Elf and I have spent this past year traveling!”

“We haven’t,” Merry added. “I don’t think I’ll ever take a step out of the Shire again—not even to raid Farmer Maggot’s crops!”

Frodo snorted as he lit the candles on the table. “Not that you would ever have to, being filthy rich,” he said with a grin. Merry shrugged his shoulders affably and laughed with the rest.

“We’re ready to eat, I believe,” Sam called out. He had set the table magnificently, and soon everyone had taken their place around the table. There was one empty seat beside Aragorn, for the ninth member of the Fellowship who was no longer there.

They spent the whole evening laughing and sharing stories of how their lives had been this past year, and even some tales of their time in the Fellowship; Sam was eager to tell everyone that his wife was expecting their first child sometime in the coming Spring.

After a while, Frodo began to fall a little quiet, his energy running low from the excitement; he swirled the wine in his glass idly, his eyes sometimes falling on the stump that used to be his third finger.

He sometimes wondered how his life might have been, if he had not stood up in that Council and took the burden of the Ring upon himself, or even if Bilbo had never found it in the Mountains. Would he have been so haunted, so weary, so odd? Would the people of Hobbiton have whispered about his slipping sanity, or would they have praised him as the life of any party?

Perhaps he still would have been quiet and reserved; part of him knew that he would never have met the magnificent and wonderful men sitting around him, that he would never have formed these bonds.

But was it all worth it?

“Mister Frodo?” Sam’s quiet voice interrupted Frodo’s wandering thoughts and brought him back to himself; his brown eyes were filled with concern. “You look tired… are you ill? Is it…” His eyes slid downwards and he gestured to Frodo’s shoulder.

Frodo managed a smile. “No, Sam. I’m all right. Just a little worn down.”

“Do you want me to tell everyone to leave?” Sam asked.

Frodo shook his head. “No… I’ll be fine. I’ll just probably go to bed soon, if that’s all right; I’ll be well in the morning to say goodbye.”

He began to stand up, but he caught everyone’s eyes on him; they were watching with a mixture of reverence, love, and pity, just like Sam—Gandalf especially.

Frodo’s cheeks began to heat, and he felt bad for wanting to leave without saying farewell. So, he turned to face them all, looking into their eyes; Sam’s warm with compassion, Merry and Pippin with affection and joy, Gimli and Legolas with excitement, Aragorn with nobility, Gandalf with peace and the same weariness that Frodo felt.

“My dear friends,” he said. “I am honored to have you all with me.” He paused. “It makes… it makes celebrating what we have done worth it, in a way; the Enemy has been defeated, and thousands of lives have been saved because of us, but I know that we all have suffered through our quest. Some of us…” his eyes fell upon the empty seat, “...Some of us have even lost their lives fighting for this peace. But what makes it all worth it is the true peace that came with our struggle. There were people we loved who deserve the best parts of the world, and to live without fear. I took the Ring because I knew that, even if I did not come back alive from our quest… at least those who would come after us would be able to live freely. And now the world has been saved, and…” And I’m very tired, thought some part of him. The world is bright for everyone but me. “And I am so glad to know that all of us are living richer lives because of it,” he ended, quietly. “It has been such a privilege to have you all here.”

He dipped his head to the company, who were all silent with emotion; Gimli was brushing tears out of his beard, and Merry and Pippin were smiling past the glassiness in their own eyes.

Merry stood up and lifted his glass of wine. “To Frodo,” he announced.

The rest of the Fellowship stood also, repeating the gesture. “To Frodo!”

As they all finished their glasses and laughed with each other, Frodo drank the rest of his wine and said, quietly, “To the Fellowship of the Ring.”

Well, I'm so proud to have finished LOTR Week 2023!! It's been so wonderful and fun, and also challenging as a person who starts projects and has a difficult time finishing them. I loved each of these stories, and I'm so glad you did too!

Thank you so much for your kind words and support of my writing, and I'm so happy to have been able to participate in this lovely challenge with so many other talented writers, artists, and aesthetic makers! Thank you to @lotr20 for hosting this challenge, it's been so fun!!

Taglist:

@lotr20, @frodothefair, @kylobith, @konartiste, @acornsandoaktrees, @kylobith, @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras, @lanthanum12

#lord of the rings #fanfic #lotrweek #my writing #lotr20 #aragorn #frodo #samwise gamgee #merry and pippin #gimli son of gloin #legolas greenleaf #gandalf #the fellowship of the ring #fandom event

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