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claudia603I'm posting this a day early because I may not be around much tomorrow!
Happy Birthday,
May it be a truly special and joyful day for you!
Okay, so I used your b-day as motivation to finish your fic, that which I started 1 1/2 years ago as a thank you for something else! Thank you so much for being a wonderful part of this fandom and community -- and for being a true friend and important part of our lives here in LJ. And liking hobbits and rangers is a plus, too! :-) *lots of hobbity hugs*
Previous chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
The wolf pup snuggled in Frodo’s arms, keeping them both warm. The fire had died down to a low crackle, leaving the cave frigid. Aragorn had gone out to seek more kindling for the fire. That act alone made Frodo adore and admire his friend all the more. Aragorn was king and could have demanded Faramir do such duties, but he still thought like a Ranger, never afraid to put in hard work when necessary.
The pup sniffed at Frodo’s face, every bit as happy and curious as a domestic puppy.
I’ve half a mind to try to take him back to the Shire, but somehow it’s more fitting for Aragorn to keep him.
The idea of Aragorn sleeping in the royal bed with a wolf curled up at his feet made Frodo smile.
“What shall you will name him?” Faramir asked. He scratched the wolf pup’s ears.
“Me?” Frodo asked. “I think it will be up to the King to name him.”
They both looked up in surprise when Aragorn returned to the cave carrying the sprout of a silver-twigged tree, roots dangling like the legs of a drowned spider.
“What in the world?” Frodo asked. The pup squirmed in his arms, panting with excitement.
Aragorn smiled and there was true joy in his eyes. “It seems that hope has bloomed all along far up in the mountain, although we knew it not while the old tree withered and the armies of Mordor attacked. Here lies the Tree of Nimloth.”
“Hope oft lies in the smallest of creatures,” Faramir said in wonder.
“The twigs are silver,” Frodo said in wonder. “How did this storm not freeze the roots?”
Aragorn knelt beside his pack and extracted from it a gentle towel. With the care that one might take with a newly born babe, he wrapped the roots. “This little tree has survived beyond all hope already. I would have it survive the trip back.”
Frodo peered outside the cave, where the sun shone brightly. Inwardly he cursed his hurt ankle which prevented him from jumping up to take a good look at the marvelous golden twinkles that danced over the fresh snow.
Aragorn glanced at Faramir. “Please see if the snow has melted on the trail enough for us to attempt our return.”
“Yes, my lord,” Faramir said with a slight bow.
Aragorn knelt beside Frodo and petted the pup. “Never have I seen one so tame.”
“And I’ve only encountered the wicked ones that the Orcs used for their own devices.” Frodo shuddered. He then smiled and looked up at Aragorn. “What will you name him?” The pup licked his fingers. Behind him, the horses stamped with impatience.
“We found him after a snowfall. What about Losa?”
“Snow.” Frodo nodded. “That is perfect for his snow-white fur.”
Faramir returned a few minutes later. He looked worried. “The trail is impassable still, my lord.”
Frodo touched his ankle. He was annoyed that there was no way for him to help the men in any manner. He cradled the wolf pup. He would have thought that a creature so wild, no matter how young, would be skittish around people. But not so with this little one. He whined and squirmed, but he seemed perfectly content to lie in Frodo’s arms. Frodo stroked his fur. “There now, little one. We shall take you somewhere safe and warm.”
The puppy looked up at Frodo with wide, trusting eyes. Something stirred in his heart, and it was like the final cracking of thin ice on a pond when the first warmth of spring came.
He could truly feel again.
***
“Gandalf,” Merry said, looking fretfully out the window. His stomach had heaved with anxiety all day. “I’m really worried about them. Look at those dark clouds around the mountain.”
Gandalf followed his gaze to the mountain, and although he tried to mask it, Merry could tell that he, too, was worried, which made Merry’s anxiety even worse. He had not survived everything he had, only to lose his cousin in a foolish, unnecessary expedition into the mountains. “They said nothing about spending a night up there.”
“They might be in all sorts of danger,” Pippin said. “If anyone knows how to get himself into a mess, it’s cousin Frodo!”
Sam coughed with annoyance.
“How’s that for the kettle calling the pot black,” Merry said.
Pippin paced in front of the window, masking his own anxiety by taking Merry‘s bait. “Who then inherited an evil Ring that took us across the world through many dangers? Who was that? Was that a Took? I think not!”
“Let’s not forget that it was because of Bilbo’s Tookish side that he set off on his adventure in the first place,” Merry said. Teasing Pippin always made him feel better, even during the darkest of circumstances.
“My dear hobbits,” Gandalf said, setting down his pipe. “I cannot hear myself think! A dark cloud surrounds the mountain, but it appears to be lifting. All the same, it might have snowed so heavily yesterday that it has blocked their means of getting back down.”
“They’re not trapped up there then, are they?” Sam asked. “What if something bad’s happened to them? And Mr. Frodo’s barely recovered and all.”
Gandalf growled into his beard. “We will forge a way up.”
“Now,” Pippin said, jumping to his feet.
“No, no,” Gandalf waved in annoyance. “Not quite yet. We will need help. Peregrin Took, bring me four guards of the Citadel. Tell them to bring shovels and whatever else they have to clear a path.”
Pippin nodded and was out the door in a flash, grim determination in his eyes.
“But that could take days!” Merry said with dismay. “And I doubt they brought enough food and other supplies to last more than a day.” The idea of his cousin wanting for food after all they had been through wrung his heart inside out.
“Fear not,” Gandalf said and an old familiar twinkle sparked in his eyes. “It is likely that we’ll find nature on our side. The snow is melting as we speak!”
“But it’s only a guess,” Merry said, glowering at the dark clouds surrounding the mountain.
Gandalf laughed. “My good hobbits, if you wish to come, you must dress warmly and be ready to go in two hours.”
“Two hours?” Merry said. “I can be ready in five minutes.” He shouted down the street, “Hurry it up, Pip!”
Sam scowled. “Confound it all, Mr. Frodo. Why did you have to want a go at another adventure? I know I’ve had enough to last a lifetime and the lifetimes of all my future children.”
***
Aragorn had started a new fire inside the cave. The sun crept closer and closer to the center of the sky, and as it did, the gentle dripping of melting icicles turned into a steady dribble of running water. The snow no longer twinkled, but instead looked slushy. Faramir looked fretful. He had fed the horses that had become most restless, and they had given Losa some water and horse feed.
“I fear we will spend a second night here,” Faramir said. “And what of our own food supply? Perhaps we too will be eating horse feed before we can get down.”
Aragorn laughed. “I am not worried. The snow is melting fast.”
Frodo caught a sound on the wind like merry laughter. “Do you hear that?” If he didn’t know better, he would think it was his rascal cousins. But how would they have reached them if the trail was impassable?
Aragorn and Faramir strained to hear anything, and suddenly Aragorn grinned. “Gandalf!” Faramir broke into a relieved grin. The laughter sounded close now, and Aragorn sprang to his feet and ran outside the cave.
“What have we here?” Gandalf laughed, wielding his staff, which glowed with white throbbing light. “A King stranded in the cave with an unruly hobbit?”
“Where is Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked.
“Frodo was injured yesterday -- do not fret,” Aragorn threw up his hands in defense against the fierce concern that swept over the hobbits’ faces. “He will be all right, but he’s being kept warm inside the cave.”
Sam had already been let down from his horse, and he ran through the slushy snow toward the cave. Merry and Pippin followed him.
“Sam!” Frodo said, looking up in joy. “Am I ever glad to see you! And Merry and Pippin, you came too? How did you get up here so fast?”
“Gandalf used his staff,” Pippin said. “We didn’t need to worry about any Enemy seeing us.”
“Tell me right now where you’re injured!” Sam demanded, falling to his knees beside Frodo.
“I turned my ankle – nothing to fret about.”
“Why didn’t you say you was going to scale the mountain, sir?” He looked so indignant that Frodo laughed, and Sam added stubbornly, “I would have followed you.”
“Haven’t you spent enough time following me into danger?” Frodo grabbed Sam’s hand. “Oh, dear Sam, please don‘t be mad. I needed to do this! I feel far better than I have since…since we woke up!”
“But then you went and got yourself hurt and all.”
Frodo smiled, unable to explain that part of his healing was knowing that he could feel the pain in his ankle. He hung his head, allowing Sam to fuss over him. “I feel like an army of hobbits has come to rescue me.”
“We were worried,” Merry said.
Pippin laughed. “When Gandalf and I first arrived in Minas Tirith, a rumor followed us that a whole army of Halflings would come to save the city. Imagine me, a Prince of Halflings.”
“And in the end it only took two,” Merry said quietly, patting Sam on the shoulder.
“Four,” Frodo said firmly. “Four brave hobbits.”
Sam blushed. “Please, sir.”
Merry looked stern. “Don’t you be starting with that sir thing. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that far away day in Crickhollow when I said that Sam would jump down a dragon’s throat to save Frodo and was I not very nearly right?” He took sudden notice of the puppy in Frodo’s arms. “Hoy, what’s that?”
“It’s about time one of you noticed. This is Losa. We need a wolf or two in the Citadel, don‘t you think?”
Sam looked suspicious. “As long as she don’t grow up to be one of those wolves that we fought outside of Moria.”
While the hobbits had been talking, Aragorn had showed Gandalf the silver-twigged tree he had found.
“I would have taken you up here to seek this in time,” Gandalf said. “I deem it is no small coincidence that you sought shelter right here at this time.”
At last they were ready to travel. Wrapping Frodo in blankets, Aragorn lifted him and set him on the horse. He climbed up behind him.
“I can’t thank you enough, dear friend,” Frodo said. “I’m only sorry that our little adventure that it turned into a bit of a mess.”
“No…” Aragorn said hoarsely. “Thank you. This is but one small thing I could offer for a brave, brave friend. It is an honor to know you, to call you my friend.”
Frodo said nothing, but he leaned back with contentment and amidst the laughter of his cousins, he heard a strange, snoring sound. Losa was sleeping in his arms.
“How is your ankle now?” Gandalf asked Frodo. “Does it pain you?”
“Only a little,” Frodo said. “It was a sacrifice I had to make to beat the Prince of Ithilien in a snowball fight.”
“I conceded only because you were injured,” Faramir said with a sniff.
“A snowball fight?” Sam scratched his head. “Looks like there’s still lots more tales to tell.”
“I hope there are will always be more tales to tell,” Frodo said. The sky spread out into blue infinity, promising a fine pattern of spring days to come.
END
Happy Birthday, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shirebound!!
May it be a truly special and joyful day for you!Okay, so I used your b-day as motivation to finish your fic, that which I started 1 1/2 years ago as a thank you for something else! Thank you so much for being a wonderful part of this fandom and community -- and for being a true friend and important part of our lives here in LJ. And liking hobbits and rangers is a plus, too! :-) *lots of hobbity hugs*
Previous chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
The wolf pup snuggled in Frodo’s arms, keeping them both warm. The fire had died down to a low crackle, leaving the cave frigid. Aragorn had gone out to seek more kindling for the fire. That act alone made Frodo adore and admire his friend all the more. Aragorn was king and could have demanded Faramir do such duties, but he still thought like a Ranger, never afraid to put in hard work when necessary.
The pup sniffed at Frodo’s face, every bit as happy and curious as a domestic puppy.
I’ve half a mind to try to take him back to the Shire, but somehow it’s more fitting for Aragorn to keep him.
The idea of Aragorn sleeping in the royal bed with a wolf curled up at his feet made Frodo smile.
“What shall you will name him?” Faramir asked. He scratched the wolf pup’s ears.
“Me?” Frodo asked. “I think it will be up to the King to name him.”
They both looked up in surprise when Aragorn returned to the cave carrying the sprout of a silver-twigged tree, roots dangling like the legs of a drowned spider.
“What in the world?” Frodo asked. The pup squirmed in his arms, panting with excitement.
Aragorn smiled and there was true joy in his eyes. “It seems that hope has bloomed all along far up in the mountain, although we knew it not while the old tree withered and the armies of Mordor attacked. Here lies the Tree of Nimloth.”
“Hope oft lies in the smallest of creatures,” Faramir said in wonder.
“The twigs are silver,” Frodo said in wonder. “How did this storm not freeze the roots?”
Aragorn knelt beside his pack and extracted from it a gentle towel. With the care that one might take with a newly born babe, he wrapped the roots. “This little tree has survived beyond all hope already. I would have it survive the trip back.”
Frodo peered outside the cave, where the sun shone brightly. Inwardly he cursed his hurt ankle which prevented him from jumping up to take a good look at the marvelous golden twinkles that danced over the fresh snow.
Aragorn glanced at Faramir. “Please see if the snow has melted on the trail enough for us to attempt our return.”
“Yes, my lord,” Faramir said with a slight bow.
Aragorn knelt beside Frodo and petted the pup. “Never have I seen one so tame.”
“And I’ve only encountered the wicked ones that the Orcs used for their own devices.” Frodo shuddered. He then smiled and looked up at Aragorn. “What will you name him?” The pup licked his fingers. Behind him, the horses stamped with impatience.
“We found him after a snowfall. What about Losa?”
“Snow.” Frodo nodded. “That is perfect for his snow-white fur.”
Faramir returned a few minutes later. He looked worried. “The trail is impassable still, my lord.”
Frodo touched his ankle. He was annoyed that there was no way for him to help the men in any manner. He cradled the wolf pup. He would have thought that a creature so wild, no matter how young, would be skittish around people. But not so with this little one. He whined and squirmed, but he seemed perfectly content to lie in Frodo’s arms. Frodo stroked his fur. “There now, little one. We shall take you somewhere safe and warm.”
The puppy looked up at Frodo with wide, trusting eyes. Something stirred in his heart, and it was like the final cracking of thin ice on a pond when the first warmth of spring came.
He could truly feel again.
***
“Gandalf,” Merry said, looking fretfully out the window. His stomach had heaved with anxiety all day. “I’m really worried about them. Look at those dark clouds around the mountain.”
Gandalf followed his gaze to the mountain, and although he tried to mask it, Merry could tell that he, too, was worried, which made Merry’s anxiety even worse. He had not survived everything he had, only to lose his cousin in a foolish, unnecessary expedition into the mountains. “They said nothing about spending a night up there.”
“They might be in all sorts of danger,” Pippin said. “If anyone knows how to get himself into a mess, it’s cousin Frodo!”
Sam coughed with annoyance.
“How’s that for the kettle calling the pot black,” Merry said.
Pippin paced in front of the window, masking his own anxiety by taking Merry‘s bait. “Who then inherited an evil Ring that took us across the world through many dangers? Who was that? Was that a Took? I think not!”
“Let’s not forget that it was because of Bilbo’s Tookish side that he set off on his adventure in the first place,” Merry said. Teasing Pippin always made him feel better, even during the darkest of circumstances.
“My dear hobbits,” Gandalf said, setting down his pipe. “I cannot hear myself think! A dark cloud surrounds the mountain, but it appears to be lifting. All the same, it might have snowed so heavily yesterday that it has blocked their means of getting back down.”
“They’re not trapped up there then, are they?” Sam asked. “What if something bad’s happened to them? And Mr. Frodo’s barely recovered and all.”
Gandalf growled into his beard. “We will forge a way up.”
“Now,” Pippin said, jumping to his feet.
“No, no,” Gandalf waved in annoyance. “Not quite yet. We will need help. Peregrin Took, bring me four guards of the Citadel. Tell them to bring shovels and whatever else they have to clear a path.”
Pippin nodded and was out the door in a flash, grim determination in his eyes.
“But that could take days!” Merry said with dismay. “And I doubt they brought enough food and other supplies to last more than a day.” The idea of his cousin wanting for food after all they had been through wrung his heart inside out.
“Fear not,” Gandalf said and an old familiar twinkle sparked in his eyes. “It is likely that we’ll find nature on our side. The snow is melting as we speak!”
“But it’s only a guess,” Merry said, glowering at the dark clouds surrounding the mountain.
Gandalf laughed. “My good hobbits, if you wish to come, you must dress warmly and be ready to go in two hours.”
“Two hours?” Merry said. “I can be ready in five minutes.” He shouted down the street, “Hurry it up, Pip!”
Sam scowled. “Confound it all, Mr. Frodo. Why did you have to want a go at another adventure? I know I’ve had enough to last a lifetime and the lifetimes of all my future children.”
***
Aragorn had started a new fire inside the cave. The sun crept closer and closer to the center of the sky, and as it did, the gentle dripping of melting icicles turned into a steady dribble of running water. The snow no longer twinkled, but instead looked slushy. Faramir looked fretful. He had fed the horses that had become most restless, and they had given Losa some water and horse feed.
“I fear we will spend a second night here,” Faramir said. “And what of our own food supply? Perhaps we too will be eating horse feed before we can get down.”
Aragorn laughed. “I am not worried. The snow is melting fast.”
Frodo caught a sound on the wind like merry laughter. “Do you hear that?” If he didn’t know better, he would think it was his rascal cousins. But how would they have reached them if the trail was impassable?
Aragorn and Faramir strained to hear anything, and suddenly Aragorn grinned. “Gandalf!” Faramir broke into a relieved grin. The laughter sounded close now, and Aragorn sprang to his feet and ran outside the cave.
“What have we here?” Gandalf laughed, wielding his staff, which glowed with white throbbing light. “A King stranded in the cave with an unruly hobbit?”
“Where is Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked.
“Frodo was injured yesterday -- do not fret,” Aragorn threw up his hands in defense against the fierce concern that swept over the hobbits’ faces. “He will be all right, but he’s being kept warm inside the cave.”
Sam had already been let down from his horse, and he ran through the slushy snow toward the cave. Merry and Pippin followed him.
“Sam!” Frodo said, looking up in joy. “Am I ever glad to see you! And Merry and Pippin, you came too? How did you get up here so fast?”
“Gandalf used his staff,” Pippin said. “We didn’t need to worry about any Enemy seeing us.”
“Tell me right now where you’re injured!” Sam demanded, falling to his knees beside Frodo.
“I turned my ankle – nothing to fret about.”
“Why didn’t you say you was going to scale the mountain, sir?” He looked so indignant that Frodo laughed, and Sam added stubbornly, “I would have followed you.”
“Haven’t you spent enough time following me into danger?” Frodo grabbed Sam’s hand. “Oh, dear Sam, please don‘t be mad. I needed to do this! I feel far better than I have since…since we woke up!”
“But then you went and got yourself hurt and all.”
Frodo smiled, unable to explain that part of his healing was knowing that he could feel the pain in his ankle. He hung his head, allowing Sam to fuss over him. “I feel like an army of hobbits has come to rescue me.”
“We were worried,” Merry said.
Pippin laughed. “When Gandalf and I first arrived in Minas Tirith, a rumor followed us that a whole army of Halflings would come to save the city. Imagine me, a Prince of Halflings.”
“And in the end it only took two,” Merry said quietly, patting Sam on the shoulder.
“Four,” Frodo said firmly. “Four brave hobbits.”
Sam blushed. “Please, sir.”
Merry looked stern. “Don’t you be starting with that sir thing. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that far away day in Crickhollow when I said that Sam would jump down a dragon’s throat to save Frodo and was I not very nearly right?” He took sudden notice of the puppy in Frodo’s arms. “Hoy, what’s that?”
“It’s about time one of you noticed. This is Losa. We need a wolf or two in the Citadel, don‘t you think?”
Sam looked suspicious. “As long as she don’t grow up to be one of those wolves that we fought outside of Moria.”
While the hobbits had been talking, Aragorn had showed Gandalf the silver-twigged tree he had found.
“I would have taken you up here to seek this in time,” Gandalf said. “I deem it is no small coincidence that you sought shelter right here at this time.”
At last they were ready to travel. Wrapping Frodo in blankets, Aragorn lifted him and set him on the horse. He climbed up behind him.
“I can’t thank you enough, dear friend,” Frodo said. “I’m only sorry that our little adventure that it turned into a bit of a mess.”
“No…” Aragorn said hoarsely. “Thank you. This is but one small thing I could offer for a brave, brave friend. It is an honor to know you, to call you my friend.”
Frodo said nothing, but he leaned back with contentment and amidst the laughter of his cousins, he heard a strange, snoring sound. Losa was sleeping in his arms.
“How is your ankle now?” Gandalf asked Frodo. “Does it pain you?”
“Only a little,” Frodo said. “It was a sacrifice I had to make to beat the Prince of Ithilien in a snowball fight.”
“I conceded only because you were injured,” Faramir said with a sniff.
“A snowball fight?” Sam scratched his head. “Looks like there’s still lots more tales to tell.”
“I hope there are will always be more tales to tell,” Frodo said. The sky spread out into blue infinity, promising a fine pattern of spring days to come.
END