Cinnamon and Roses

Disclaimer: I'm not Tolkien, and therefore I do not own any of the characters, places, etc, in this story.

A/N: I was in the mood to write some hobbit fluffiness, and this is the end result. No severe angst in this fic (unless you count Merry’s temper as angst!) This story takes place before the quest, and after Bilbo has left and Frodo inherits Bag End.

S.R. 3003, during Yuletide.

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Frodo watched Pippin run maniacally around the yard, carefully picking his way around the lopsided snowhobbits and forts that had popped up during the day and were spread sporadically about the snow-covered lawn. From his view through the kitchen window, it appeared to Frodo that Pippin was running from some foe only the young hobbit could see. He dashed wildly behind a tree and didn’t reappear until, apparently, his enemy came near. Springing into his plan of action, the hobbit leapt from his hiding spot and tackled his opponent, pinning him to the ground. Frodo chuckled as he watched this, amazed at his cousin’s incredibly vivid imagination.

The snapping of a towel somewhere near his face quickly brought him back to the kitchen, and to his somewhat irritated cousin.

“Do you plan on helping us today? I don’t believe dishes tend to wash themselves, do they, Frodo?” Merry asked sarcastically, looking at Frodo and rolling his eyes. “You’re slacking. Sam and I have practically cleaned more than our share of this mess.” Merry chuckled as he teased his older cousin unmercifully. Frodo looked over at the mountain of dirty plates and cups, and was a little alarmed that the stack was still that high.

“Have you looked at that pile lately? We’re nowhere near done!”

“Well sir, compared to that great heap we had before, we’re almost there.” Sam said, dipping yet another of the dirty plates into the soapy water and scrubbing it.

“Really, I love Yule, but I can’t believe the mess that’s left behind.” Merry grumbled at the plate he was holding, before tucking it up in the cupboard where it belonged.

Frodo had invited several guests for a Yule feast that day, and Merry and Pippin were staying with him for the remainder of the holiday. It had been a wonderful dinner, with plates upon plates of delicious food. His visitors had decided to go home mid-afternoon, after consuming the majority of the food, ale, and Frodo’s energy. So far, it had been a wonderful Yule in the Shire, with as much feasting and drinking as any hobbit could handle. But with the enormous amounts of food, came even bigger amounts of dishes. And that was the cause of distress for the three hobbits straining over the sink.

“I think it’s time for Pippin to come in. It’s getting rather dark out, and I can imagine he’s catching a chill by now. He’s been out there all day.” Merry winced as he dropped a plate into the sink. Frodo, too, winced, as he watched his cousin pull out several fragments of what was once the whole plate.

“I guess I’ll go get him, then, while you clean that up.” Frodo smiled, glad to have some excuse to get away from the sink. He opened the door, and a blast of chilled air entered the house. It was a wonder Pippin hadn’t already come in from the cold. “Pippin! Time to come in! It’s getting dark and cold, and we don’t want you to get sick! C’mon!” Frodo called into the frigid air. It wasn’t long before Pippin, covered head to foot in snow, sprang through the doorway and onto the rug. “There’s a good lad. Did you have fun?” Pippin’s only response was the chattering of his teeth, and the vigorous nodding of his head.

Pippin was stripped of his wet outdoor clothes, changed into his pajamas, and given a warm cup of cider to give him a chance to thaw before bed. After saying goodnight to Merry and Sam, Pippin was led to the guestroom by Frodo.

“There now. Are you a bit warmer?” Frodo gently brought the covers up to Pippin’s chin and kissed him goodnight.

“I’m much better now. Did you see the snowtroll I made out in the yard? It took me half of the day to get enough snow for it.” Pippin’s eyes were shining with pride as he watched Frodo’s face light up with a smile.

“Yes Pippin. It was a frightening sight! You might have to take it down, or you’ll scare all of the visitors from Bag End!” Pippin giggled in delight, and snuggled down into his covers. Frodo was slightly worried by the fact that Pippin wasn’t showing any signs of drowsiness, but he figured that once he got comfortable and the cider kicked in, he’d have no problems sleeping. “Goodnight, Pippin. Sleep tight.” Frodo once again kissed his cousins’ forehead, before quietly backing out of the room and clicking the door shut. He returned to the kitchen to find Merry and Sam draining the water from the sink.

“You sure know how to draw out time, don’t you Frodo?” Merry teased, wiping his hands on the towel that was draped over his shoulder as Sam fiddled with something in the sink.

“You’re done?” Frodo asked, amazed at how fast they’d finished the last of the dishes.

“Yup.” Merry replied grimly. “Done picking up that broken plate. We had to drain the water so we could find the rest of it. It must have broken into a thousand little, tiny pieces.” Merry moved to the side so Frodo could once again stare in horror at the mess behind him.

“You wasted time on purpose, so you could make sure I wouldn’t just take my time getting Pippin ready for bed!” Frodo put on a false look of hurt. “Do you really think I’d do something like that?”

“Yes.” Merry and Sam both said in unison. They all broke into a fit of laughter, and Frodo picked up his towel once more and began his tireless task of drying. For some time, they talked in hushed voices of the feast and other Yuletide doings in the Shire. But Merry nearly dropped yet another plate as their conversation was interrupted by a short yell from Pippin’s room.

“Merry!” Pippin’s voice was muffled by the door, but it was audible nonetheless. Merry sighed, gave Frodo and Sam a look that told them ‘here we go,’ and exited the kitchen to go tend to Pippin’s insatiable needs. This time, it was Frodo’s turn to roll his eyes.

“I knew he was too jittery to get to sleep.” Frodo mumbled to himself.

“I don’t blame him, though. He was outside almost the whole day!” Sam exclaimed, looking up as Merry reentered the kitchen.

“Lads’ wound up tighter than clock.” Merry sighed. “This could be a long evening.” All three hobbits smiled through their dread, as the very last plate was being cleaned off by Sam.

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“Merry!” Pippin’s voice ripped through the still air in the living area. The hobbits had just finished cleaning up and were sitting around the fire with a mug of well-deserved ale, when the cry of the temporary insomniac was heard. Merry, who looked as if he might cry from annoyance, rose to his feet, handed Frodo his cup to hold, and trudged off to the guestroom. Minutes later, the very irate hobbit was back and was turning to go to the kitchen, but he paused before he went in.

“Pippin wants water.” he stated quite monotonously, giving Frodo a glare as he watched his cousin struggle to hide a smile. Almost robotically, Merry filled up a glass of water, and disappeared behind Pippin’s door. Both Frodo and Sam smiled at each other, as they listened to the quite voices in the other room: one very low and stern, the other high and whiny.

“I can’t believe he’s not asleep yet. He’s got to be exhausted from being outside all day!” Sam was bewildered by the young lad’s spirit.

“Sam, he’s a Took. A very young Took, mind you. He very rarely runs out of energy, to the dismay of his fellow cousins.” Frodo could only smile again, recalling times before that were just like this.

“Argh. We are never giving him cider before he goes to bed again, you hear me?” Merry slunk down on the coach next to Frodo, who gave him back his mug. “This is stupid.” As the words left Merry’s mouth, Pippin risked his life by screaming his cousin’s name again.

“Meeerrrrrryyyy!”

Frodo immediately glanced up to see Merry’s face, and it appeared that Pippin had reached the end of Merry’s fuse. Actually, Merry really bore no expression. Frodo could only tell by the white-knuckled grip Merry had on his mug, and the slight twitch of his temple. Before his cousin could really go off, Frodo quickly stood.

“I’ll handle this one.” Frodo hurried out of the room, taking care to not be anywhere near his cousin at the moment.

The guestroom was completely dark, save the gentle, silver moonlight that was dancing across the bed. Frodo could see from where he was standing in the doorway that Pippin had himself completely tangled up in his covers.

“Merry?” Pippin’s voice was muted from the layers of blankets wrapped around his entire body. With some struggle, the young hobbit managed to unroll himself enough so he could peek out at Frodo from between the folds of his blankets. “Frodo?”

“Shhh. Yes Pippin, its Frodo. What seems to be the problem?”

“I can’t fall asleep, Frodo. I’m not tired.” Frodo sat himself on the side of the bed and as gently as he could, unwrapped Pippin so the hobbit could move. “I want to go outside and play.”

“But Pippin, it’s dark outside! And dreadfully cold, I can imagine. Don’t worry; you can go outside some more tomorrow. Maybe Merry, Sam, and I will even come out with you. How does that sound?”

“Good.” Pippin smiled. “But I still can’t get to sleep.” Frodo thought for a moment, before rising from the bed and crossing the room to the dresser. He opened the bottom drawer and pulled out something that he had not held in years.

“You know, Pippin, when I was a bit younger than you, I would have nights just like this.” Frodo turned so Pippin could see what was in his hands: a small, old, stuffed animal. From where Pippin was, it appeared to be a little brown bear. “So my mum made me this for me. And whenever I had troubles getting to sleep, she would just tuck this into bed with me.” Frodo gently handed the animal to Pippin, who immediately took it and hugged it close to him. It was of simple make: soft brown material with two black button eyes and a pink button nose. But Pippin thought it was magnificent.

The young hobbit grinned as he snuggled into his covers with the bear. He breathed deeply into the fabric. “It smells like cinnamon and roses.” Pippin stated. Frodo smiled.

“That’s why it made me fall asleep. That’s what my mother smelled like. It made me feel protected and warm, like she was right there with me.” Pippin almost instantly felt drowsiness overcoming him. Whether it was just a trick of his mind, or the stuffed animal, he didn’t know. He closed his eyes, and took in another deep breath.

“Thank you, Frodo.” Pippin whispered, as he felt himself falling asleep.

“You’re welcome, Pippin. Goodnight.” Frodo brushed back a few stray curls from the hobbits’ forehead, before rising from the bed and closing the door for the last time that night.