The Shire, as gentle and bountiful as it is, is poorly suited to deal with battle shocked hobbits. Though the entirety of the Took clan and a smattering of Brandybucks have gone on quite a many adventure throughout the ages, none were quite so traumatic as the adventures undertaken by the last pair of Baggins.
Unfortunately, the window for Old Mad Bilbo Baggins’ recovery had long past, the weight of decades worth of battle shock combined with loss and the whisperings of the One Ring. His stay in Rivendell, amongst elves who had practice in healing mental trauma alongside the physical, was a balm indeed. But, perhaps, too little too late.
It was no surprise that Bilbo had chosen to venture, one last time, for the Grey Havens.
Nor was it a surprise when Bilbo asked, no, pleaded, with Frodo to try and live, “Please, my dear boy, just try.”
Frodo’s uneasy, but sincere agreement was no surprise either, for while the Baggins family had been much reduced in number, their bond had always been strong.
What was a surprise was that Pippin was the one who came up with a solution.
While Samwise tried juggling a growing family and his, inarguably, stalwart companionship with Frodo–he was simply a single hobbit with too much on his hands. Merry, in turn, attempted to reawaken his cousin, as if the old Frodo were merely hidden beneath this new, morose version and could be restored with books and mathoms.
Rather than see a reprise of the Mad Old Baggins, withering alone in Bag End, not even a young nephew to ease the isolation, Pippin suggested that Frodo leave.
“I don’t mean that we don’t want you around, Frodo,” the youngest of their group assures, words stumbling but eyes steady in their gaze, “But it’s just that, well. I’m still Faramir’s squire and Merry is Eowyn’s and we’re here in the Shire for now, but we were both going to head back. Together, that is, because Eowyn and Faramir are engaged to be married and that means we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, too, and well…”
Because, for all that they’ve (Merry and Pippin, that is) missed the Shire and the comforts of home, they don’t fit anymore. Or rather, they fit less than they did before. They’ve travelled and seen things no hobbit, not even old Bilbo, had ever seen and now their little quests to steal vegetables or set off fireworks simply don’t compare, nowhere near as fulfilling as they used to be.
And if the two of them are feeling this way, then Frodo–bearer of the Ring, savior of all of Middle Earth–must feel even worse. They all can tell, the way he’s shut himself up in Bag End, not even going outside to read in the sunlight like he used to. He still seems sickly, though all the healers have proclaimed him fully restored (barring the missing finger), and except for the occasional brief meet ups with them (Merry, Pippin, and Sam, and Sam’s family, that is), he doesn’t interact with anyone.
“… and maybe, well, that is to say, I know how fond of both Aragorn and Arwen you were, and they of you, so I mean, I can ask Faramir to be sure but even so–”
“Pippin,” Frodo interrupted, wan smile on his face–though, lately all of his smiles were wan–as he reached out a pale, shaking hand, and set it lightly on Pippin’s shoulder, “Thank you. I’ll think about it,” he demurred.
But that wasn’t enough, was hardly anything at all. Frodo needed help. If he couldn’t get it in the Shire, then he had to go elsewhere to get it.
So Pippin told Merry; because Merry’s still the smart one, even if it was Pippin to come up with the idea.
After the moment of surprise, and some name calling and roughhousing, Merry agreed. Merry wrote the necessary letters, made all the arrangements, because a plan was a plan whether it was stealing Farmer Maggot’s carrots or getting a cousin across the continent. It was up to Sam to convince Frodo; though what was said or done during their three hour discussion within Bilbo’s old study, Merry and Pippin anxiously demolishing the contents of Bag End’s pantry, will forever remain a secret between the two of them.
And so, after six months passed, it was three hobbits on the road south to Gondor.
~
A/N: I had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while (actually sort of a cross-post from my lj, here, though it’s all blagh there) ever since I re-watched all three of the Lord of the Rings movies (extended editions, FML) in a row with a friend of mine. But I only recently have been perusing through some Hobbit fic and got some Middle Earth feels that I had to articulate.
Basically, I wouldn’t want to change much of the actual journey but the epilogue didn’t sit right with me. And I know that’s on Tolkien, but it seemed kind of counterproductive to what he wanted? Like, yes, Frodo did suffer through great evil but he didn’t seem to recover from it at all–going off to the Grey havens with Bilbo and the elves–and that seems like a pretty bleak fate for the Baggins family. Part of me thinks that this is because Frodo is suffering from major PTSD, but considering the average hobbit, no one in the Shire really knows how to deal with it or help him. In contrast, nearly everyone is a warrior race and would have more practice in helping traumatized people, even if it’s not exactly the same situation.
Aaaand the end game for this was going to be ArwenxAragornxFrodo sort of threesome with Frodo helping to raise their son (which, since he’s the height of a child would be pretty interesting). Because, I guess, all of them have a fondness for baby-faced (if you consider how old Aragorn REALLY is…) blue-eyed brunettes.
And long author’s note is long. 😛
JackSGreyson Says 