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A Day in the Life by Aliensouldream


Title:A Day in the Life


Theme:Bunny Hutch

Elements:Third Age: Humor—in Minas Tirith after the War, the hobbits discover that one of the results of being heroes is that there are any number of maidens in the City who are more than eager to meet them and throw themselves at the famous four. How do they react to having "fangirls"? How do the rest of the Fellowship react to the situation? Do they tease the hobbits or envy them? (Dreamflower)

Summary:The Hobbits deal with an unexpected side of fame.

Word Count:1000+

'It's all Aragorn's fault!' moaned Sam. 'I love him, o'course, and he means well, bless him, but he's made it impossible for us to go round!'

'Word would have got round without Aragorn,' said Merry, puffing to light a pipe. 'You don't think the sight of four Half-Men trotting down the King's Way might have started tongues wagging all on their own?'

'Wayfarers,' said Sam firmly. 'Lots of wayfarers come to a famous city like Gondor. Trading port and all. People are used to strange sights. Sure, they'd gawp, but would they mob? Not likely. They want the trade, and they know they're a famous city and proud of it. No, they'd treat wayfarers and strangers with respect. But us! They think they know us! Thanks to Aragorn and his bloomin speeches.'

'They love us!' grinned Pippin.

'You call this love?' asked Sam, examining the rip where his sleeve had been pulled away from his shirt.

'They think we're the greatest. The Fabulous Four Halflings! We're heroes! People need heroes.'

Sam closed his eyes briefly and took a calming breath. 'It's not just the young 'uns, though, is it? With the crowdin' and tuggin' and suchlike. It's the girls. They take liberties.'

'That's the best bit!' chortled Pippin.

'One of them tried to pull out one of me curls today! And nearly managed it!'

'Then you must wear a helmet,' said Merry.

'It's no laughing matter,' growled Sam. 'They're Big Folk and we're not. Don't you think it's wrong?'

'I don't,' said Pippin. 'Big Women Folk are just like Hobbitlasses. Only bigger. I can see certain advantages in that.' His hands squeezed the air.

'You dirty begger,' laughed Merry around his pipe and promptly started a coughing fit, whereupon Pippin had to slap him on the back.

While Pippin and Merry had a good laugh together, Sam shook his head.

'You should be ashamed of yourself. You might think it's all a joke. What about Frodo?' He nodded over to where Frodo sat near the window. 'It's him that gets it the worst. "The Ringbearer, The Ringbearer!" That's all we hear when we're out and about anywhere. They all want to touch the Ringbearer. They think it's good luck. Well, maybe it is, but it's wearing him out, in my opinion. And him just back on his feet.'

Sam went to sit near Frodo, who looked up at his approach and smiled. 'It's alright, Sam. I don't mind them, really.'

'Well you should,' said Sam. 'You're looking paler than yesterday. And I thought a nice stroll in the fresh air on market day would put apples in your cheeks. What a turnip-head idea. Not with the world and his brother wanting a piece of you.'

'There's no help for it,' said Frodo. 'Aragorn would be hurt if we kept to ourselves indoors. He gave us the Freedom of the City, remember.'

'Some freedom!' snorted Sam. 'You can't walk two steps!'

'But they're happy faces, joyous faces. They want to tell me how grateful they are.'

'That's not all they want,' said Sam, with emphasis. 'That excitement's like the Sweetheart Race on Lithemas Day. It's the sound of lasses going all out to catch their favourites. They've been eyeing you like a choice morsel to the starving.'

'Can you blame them?' asked Merry. 'Most of their Menfolk look like granite slabs or bears. We thought Aragorn was ugly when we met him, but he's not half so bad as some of the specimens round here. A bunch of well-turned Hobbits must be a welcome relief.'

'They love the foot hair,' said Pippin, waggling his toes. 'Drives them crazy.'

'I can't bear to think what would happen if we weren't around to protect you,' Sam told Frodo. 'I'll not have you kissing a hundred girls just so's they can squeal and laugh to their friends. You've been sick.'

'Oh Sam!' chuckled Frodo. 'Don't worry so much.'

'I don't often say this,' said Merry, 'but Sam's right. That crowd this morning was getting just a touch bonkers for my taste. If they hadn't sent the Palace Escort down for us, we'd have been hours getting back. A bit of cheering and well-hail-fella-me-lad is all very nice. And I can put up with a wink and a peck, here and there. But it's constant now, there's no peace. We're under scrutiny every hour of the day, outdoors and in.'

'I said "Aye, lass" to a serving girl and she screamed and fainted,' said Pippin. 'That never used to happen in the Shire. I think it's partly the uniform.'

'The question is, what do we do about it?' asked Sam, looking at each face. 'Should we ask Aragorn to say something, calm them down a bit, like?'

'On no, please!' said Frodo. 'I can't bear to have him think we're not comfortable, or for the people to be afraid to greet us.'

'Then what's the answer?'

They thought a bit.

'I think they just need to get used to us,' said Frodo. 'We're a novelty. And Aragorn had the trumpets blown for us, so we're news. We'll always be Hobbits in a strange land, while we're here, but if we go about our business normally, the novelty will eventually wear off.'

'I'm not sure,' said Merry. 'There are more songs and stories about us every day in the fire halls. The town criers cry out what we have for breakfast.'

'There's a bloke selling what he calls "real Shire pipeweed" in the spice market.' Pippin made a wry face. 'Tastes like pigstraw.'

'And the smithys are making Sting replicas,' said Sam. 'For a fortune. I saw them hanging up in the shop.'

'I think we'll be riding this little adventure for a while yet,' said Merry.

Sam sighed. 'Dandled and patted like children,' he said.

'Speak for yourself,' said Pippin, tugging his uniform straight.

'On the other hand,' said Merry, reaching for another pinch of pipeweed, 'we may not be entirely helpless.'

'So there is something we can do about it?' asked Sam.

Merry smiled. 'With a little help from our friends.'


The small, grey-hooded figure, with dark curls peeping from its hood, made its bare-footed way down a lane and into the close-cobbled streets of Gondor's Merchant Mile in the lower town. The garb of grey cloak and leaf brooch was by now far too well known to be mistaken. After a mere heart-beat or two, it was spotted by a young woman who dropped a full jug of milk to point and scream 'It's the Hobbits!' Acting like a rallying cry to an army, every young and female heart surged, and turned instantly in the direction of her finger. The little grey figure had started with fright, dropped its bag and set off at a run. Instantly the cry was taken up. 'Hobbits, Hobbits! That way!' Dozens of feet, shod and unshot started after their quarry. The whooping cries billowed back through the pursuing crowd, drawing others into its wake. 'Come on, we think it's Frodo! It's the Ringbearer! Come with us! Hurry! We've got to see him! Frodo!' A communal high-pitched screaming note, a sort of female halloo, sounded continuously throughout them all. The Gondorian market rang with it. Adults tried to jump out of the path of the stampeding horde and ended up falling over and tumbling into their own wares. Handcarts were scattered, apples rolling everywhere. Dogs joined in the hunt, barking for joy. Little messenger boys, bursting with excitement, raced to see who would get the first glimpse of their hero.

At a crossroads, a short helmeted figure in a dark tunic with the White Tree emblazoned on it shot out of one lane, across the stream of racing followers, and up another side street. A second cry, on a different note, went up and was taken by a portion of the crowd, who peeled off to follow the uniformed runner. Those reaching the crossroads, who thought they had no chance of reaching the front, chose to follow this new stream. It's target was nearer, therefore the excitement was nearer to them, and this energised their flagging feet and bursting lungs. It was joy they were sharing, the excitement of a chase and a collective crazy exuberance with all their fellows. Each one of them was desparate for a glimpse, a touch of the famous, sung-about Hobbits! Friends of royalty and saviours of Gondor! Besides, they were cute!

Just as the head of the first crowd were reaching the King's Gate Bridge, two more small figures, one in a grey cloak and the other in a tiny Rohan soldier's uniform, appeared almost from under the noses of the front runners and took off at right angles to the flow. 'They're heading up the Abbey Road!' someone yelled. Sure enough, this road led straight to the open square beside the old crumbling Abbey of Numenor, which was eventually to be restored under the King's orders. As the crowd poured into the square from the side streets, they realised that all their fellows, no matter whom they had been pursuing, had ended up here. The screaming peaked as they realised that there, on the steps of the Abbey, were the four small figures, flanked by taller ones. Every eager soul poured into the available space, jostling for position to see what they could see.

The first grey hooded figure threw back its hood to reveal a young and breathless Gondorian girl. The little Gondor soldier was a boy, by resemblance undoubtedly her brother. A collective groan went up from the crowd. The Rohan soldier revealed himself - another young boy. Then the last grey figure. And it was Gimli.

A glad shout went through the onlookers. Another huge shout went round as the tall figure to his left drew down his hood and it was Legolas.

'The Elf! And the Dwarf!' they all yelled. 'Part of the Nine!' Not what they had bargained for, perhaps, but still a fine catch. They broke out in applause and cheering.

'Friends!' said Legolas. 'We're sorry to play a little trick on you. We hope you're not too disappointed with who you've found.'

Cries of protest and reassurance.

'I'm glad,' Legolas smile. 'But before we meet you, we have another surprise. Look over there!' He pointed over their heads. They turned.

All four Hobbits were up on a flat balcony on the roof of the Chancery building opposite. At the sight of them, mass hysteria broke out. Girls cried and wept and jumped up and down hugging each other. They yelled and waved to the Hobbits. 'We love you!'

'We love you too!' cried Frodo.

Pandemonium. More people were pouring into the square all the time and the sound was deafening. Merry waved his arms to quieten them a fraction.

'We hope you didn't mind our little joke there,' he roared. 'But we had a point we want to make.'

'We're just like you!' yelled Pippin, to tumultous squealing and laughter. 'No different! We want to be treated like one of you!'

'You've taken us to your hearts!' called Frodo. 'And we're so honoured and grateful!'

'We'd like to take you home with us!' roared Sam, overtaken with the emotion of the moment. This caused huge screams. 'But we carn't,' he finished awkwardly.

'So while we're here,' yelled Frodo, 'we want to get to know you! We hope you'll let us come among you like ordinary citizens, share your daily lives, and understand if we're a bit overwhelmed by all the attention sometimes.'

'I'm well up for dancing though!' yelled Pippin, to ecstatic cheering.

'We're gonna sing you a little song now,' cried Merry. 'To show how much we love you, and we'll see you soon!'

The Hobbits then sang the 'Jig of the Harvest Swain', a lusty and raucous affair for which they were famous in Hobbiton, on a different scale. The crowd went wild and they had to perform seven encores. Finally, they made to leave the roof by way of a secret passage the warden had shown them.

But as they were ushered out of the back of the building, a love-struck red-faced young lady burst through their bodyguards, pigtails flying and arms outstretched. 'Pippin!' she burst into tears. 'I love you! I want to marry you! Please marry me!'

'Oh help,' yelped Pippin, as the other Hobbits burst out laughing. He dodged round the girl, the guards, and broke for the open road as fast as his heels could carry him. 'HEEEEELP!!!!'

- the end -


( 10 comments — Leave a comment )
Jun. 19th, 2014 12:18 pm (UTC)
Bwahaha!!! Poor hobbitses, but what a grin you've given me this morning.

They all want to touch the Ringbearer. They think it's good luck.

I can well imagine that happening, even in canon. :)
Jun. 19th, 2014 10:38 pm (UTC)
I'm sure plenty of people would want to touch Frodo, and any excuse is better than none!
Jun. 19th, 2014 05:24 pm (UTC)
Jun. 19th, 2014 10:39 pm (UTC)
Thank you!
Jun. 19th, 2014 08:48 pm (UTC)
I enjoyed this.It was great fun to read.
Jun. 19th, 2014 10:43 pm (UTC)
That's great! Thanks so much. The Fab Hobbits would be a huge draw in any age!
Jun. 19th, 2014 10:28 pm (UTC)
*HUGE GRIN* This is just the kind of thing I was hoping for! How clever and funny--I love all the Beatle references--Abbey Road, the rooftop concert, "HELP!". And the Shire equivalent of "Sadie Hawkins Day": the Lithemas Sweetheart Race!

And Sam was the perfect choice for voicing objections--after all, such behavior would hardly be "proper"!

I love it!
Jun. 19th, 2014 10:45 pm (UTC)
That's great! I'm very glad to hear that, thank you. It was a great prompt and I loved to think of Gondor being swept by 'Hobbitmania' :-)
Jun. 21st, 2014 04:44 pm (UTC)
Great fun! I especially like that moment when Sam gets carried away, despite his general disapproval.
Jun. 21st, 2014 08:59 pm (UTC)
I had to laugh at the idea of the Hobbits of the Shire with their own version of the Sadie Hawkins Day Race. And I couldn't help but laugh at all the references to the Beatles. Darling!
( 10 comments — Leave a comment )


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