A Spooky Hobbit Tail
Oct. 31st, 2006 02:08 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
cpsings4him.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
hobbit_holidaysWhew! Making it just under the wire for this holiday! I was actually beginning to fret that I wasn't going to make it in time, but somehow I did!
This one comes with a diabetic warning, folks. Behind the cut, cuteness, sweetness and pure shmoopy fluff abounds. It has hobbits - baby ones! In adorable costumes, no less! Proceed with utter caution. Written in the "Fwo and Unga Bee" universe, this is purely for fun - not meant to be a serious work or fit perfectly into cannon. Plot holes may also abound among the fluff. My advice? Just go with it. It's fanfic of the fluffiest, silliest kind. It's meant to be fun. Enjoy!
General Fan fic.
No profanity, no slash, rated G...come'on, what'd you expect - it has baby hobbits in it for crying out loud!
Not for profit - just a bit of fun, Gandalf!
Not my characters. If you thought they might be, are you new around here? :-p
IT'S BACK AGAIN - A SPOOKY HOBBIT'S TAIL
Or, "I Do Believe in Spooks! I Do believe in Spooks!"
"Frodo! Hold still, lad." Bilbo groused good naturedly. He had been struggling to fasten a button under the boy's chin. Every time he almost had it, his nephew inevitably chose that second to move and the tiny button slipped out of his fingers in a most exasperating manner.
"Fwo a tee-tat now, Unga Bee?" Frodo asked excitedly.
"Not quite yet, lad." Bilbo answered, once more adjusting the cap so that the black and pink velvet ears were in the right spot atop Frodo's head. "And at this rate, you may never be a kitty-cat if you don't hold still." Bilbo punctuated his point with a gentle tap on Frodo's pink painted nose. Thin, black paint whiskers spread across his rosy cheeks as he giggled.
"Be 'till, Unga Bee." Frodo promised.
"All right. That's a good lad." Bilbo smiled and resumed trying to secure the hat in place.
Frodo was still. That is, he did try to be still for he very much wanted to be a kitty-cat. But something mysterious and black, just behind his shoulder, caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and there was nothing for him to do but swivel his curly head around in effort to see it.
"Frodo!" Bilbo exclaimed as the button was once again lost.
"Unga Bee!" Frodo gasped, perplexed that the mysterious object had disappeared before he had caught full sight of it.
The little hobbit wriggled left and right trying to find whatever it had been. He could never find it, though he always had a feeling it was hovering, lurking just out of his sight.
"Dear boy, if you don't sit still and let me get this blasted button fastened we'll miss the whole festival." Bilbo's patience was running thin by this point.
"Bu', Unga Bee-ee! Fwo see!" Frodo tried to explain, pointing in the direction from which the mysterious "something" had come. Just yesterday, while visiting Brandy Hall, one of his older cousins had told him (unbeknownst to his mum) a scary story about "spooks". Frodo wasn't sure exactly what a "spook" was, but they didn't sound very nice.
Bilbo looked about his tidy kitchen. To his eyes, everything seemed to be in proper order. The pots were hung from the ceiling hooks, the stove burned a low, guttering fire. Mr. Peeper, his cat (and inspiration for the costume he was trying to get onto his nephew) was perched on a stool in the corner, watching the proceedings thinking that somehow to him, that child looked oddly familiar.
"Frodo, there's nothing there, lad." Bilbo assured him.
"I've an idea. Why don't you close your eyes for a moment while Uncle Bilbo finishes this, hm?" Bilbo suggested.
Frodo nodded obediently, veiling his blue eyes beneath the dark-lashed lids.
"That's a good lad!" Bilbo praised and once more set about trying to get that button fastened.
It was at an odd angle, situated as it was beneath Frodo's chin, and tiny besides. Bilbo mentally grumped, vowing to later inquire of Mrs. Gamgee just what it was she had against the using of reasonably sized buttons in her stitchery. Still, he thought, she had done a wonderful job of making it - and on rather short notice as well. The costume was just perfect for making a little lad of Frodo's size look like a black cat with a white belly and long, black, jaunty tail, held stiff with a piece of flexible wire, wrapped cleverly inside the stuffing, fastened onto the suit with buttons. It was comfortable and warm by all appearances, as well, made of velvet and lined with a soft woolen material. A costume as warm as that would allow Frodo to be outside at the Hobbiton Harvest Festival without need of a coat. The long sleeves were cunningly stitched at the wrists so they wouldn't ride up as were the pant legs which reached all the way to Frodo's ankles. The hat, complete with stitched-on cat ears (if they ever got it on!) would keep his real ears warm. Small white mitts completed the costume giving Frodo white "paws", "dus' wike Mistah Peepah!", as Frodo had exclaimed upon seeing them.
Frodo sat, eyes closed as promised. However, he still had the feeling that there was a "spook" (for in his two year old mind, a "spook" was certainly what it must be!) lurking just over one shoulder then the other. He tried very hard not to move, but he just couldn't help wriggling a little. Just then, an idea struck his uncle. There was nothing he could do about the size of the button, but he could work it from a slightly less awkward angle. He lifted the little hobbit easily and deposited him upon his lap as he sat tiredly in the nearest chair. With Frodo sitting in front of him, facing forward, it would be almost as if he were fastening his own waist coat. Why hadn't he thought of that before, he wondered?
"Frodo, tilt your head back, lad. That's a boy." Bilbo chucked as Frodo immediately obeyed, still keeping his eyes closed tightly.
The idea was brilliance and the stubborn button was fastened in a matter of seconds.
"Ah, there we are, Frodo." Bilbo exclaimed, smiling. He planted a quick kiss into the curls peeking from beneath the boy's cap above his brow. "All finished. You can open your eyes now."
Unwittingly, Bilbo had unleashed something dark and terrible onto his small nephew. At least that's what an on-looker might have deduced watching the events that unfolded in the next few seconds. What had really happened was that Frodo's jaunty tail, pressed against Bilbo's mid-section, had curved itself over Frodo's head, directly in the little hobbit's line of vision.
When Frodo opened his eyes he could hardly believe them. There, right in front of his face, ready to eat his newly painted nose was a spook! For several seconds he couldn't make a sound. Bilbo was utterly perplexed when Frodo began scrambling backwards, pressing himself into his uncle, angling his head back as far as Bilbo's generous mid-section would allow. Frodo's lip trembled and his eyes were huge as he struggled to get away from the horrid thing.
"Aaaaagghh! Unga! Bee!!" Frodo exclaimed.
"What in Middle Earth, lad...?" Bilbo tried to get a hold on his terrified nephew. Just at that second however, the tail bent further over and tapped Frodo on the nose, sending him into further fits of hysteria. At that, Frodo screamed even louder and launched himself right out of Bilbo's lap.
"Frodo!" Bilbo cried, alarmed to see the little lad suddenly on the floor.
For several seconds, Frodo sat stunned from the sudden impact. He had landed on his (thankfully) well padded bottom and the menacing spook had disappeared once more.
Bilbo hurried to his feet and started toward his nephew.
"Frodo, my little lad, are you all right? What in Middle Earth has gotten into you?" Bilbo bent to scoop up the little hobbit who was still sitting with wide, frightened eyes.
"A 'pook, Unga Bee!" Frodo cried from the vicinity of his uncle's neck as he snuggled gratefully into his uncle's embrace. The little hobbit still kept a wary eye out in case the spook decided to come back.
"A spook? Where did you hear of spooks?" Bilbo asked, holding his nephew's small trembling body protectively close against him, rubbing the velvet clad back in soothing circles.
"Malco." Frodo answered simply, laying his head on Bilbo's shoulder, his little fingers coming to twine in Bilbo's hair in a way that always made him feel safe.
"Oh, I see." Bilbo said softly, making a mental note to have a word with Malco's mother. Bilbo well remembered frightening stories told to him and he knew how real they could seem - especially to a child as young as Frodo. He decided to play along.
"Tell me about this spook, lad. What did it look like?" Bilbo asked softly, still cuddling Frodo close.
"Big!" Frodo answered.
"It was big? What else. Tell me all about it." Bilbo encouraged.
"Wong an' it twy ea' Fwo's nose!" Frodo explained, gesturing with his hands behind Bilbo's neck just how terribly long and frightening it had been.
Sudden understanding dawned on Bilbo.
"Frodo, did it look anything at all like this?" Bilbo asked, giving Mr. Peeper's tail a gentle tug.
Frodo studied the cat's tail. It did look a lot like the spook - only, not so big.
The little hobbit nodded at his uncle, his face very serious and grave. Bilbo couldn't help laughing as the pieces began to fit together.
"My dear, little lad." Bilbo laughed, hugging his nephew affectionately close. "You silly Baggins - that's no spook. Why, twas nothing but your own tail!" Bilbo laughed, pulling the costume tail around to Frodo's front to show him it was harmless.
"Fwo dot a taiw? Dus' wike Mistah Peepah?" Frodo giggled as he touched it.
"Yes, lad. And it's nothing at all to be frightened of, I assure you." Bilbo was still laughing.
"Unga Bee, Fwo tee-tat now?" Frodo asked.
Bilbo held Frodo out to have a good look at him. Then he had a better idea.
"Why don't you look and see for yourself, Frodo." Bilbo carried his small nephew into the parlor and stood him before the tall mirror.
Frodo could hardly believe his eyes. He stood for long moments just staring at himself in wonder. When had he grown those whiskers, he wondered? His small hands patted the pink and black velvet ears gently. A slow grin grew across his face.
"Fwo tee-tat!" He declared, giggling.
He found that the tail which had vexed him earlier now delighted him, bobbing and swaying as he moved. Bilbo laughed out loud as Frodo twisted his backside in imitation of Mr. Peeper's swishing tail.
"Mee-oow! Mee-ooow!" Frodo cried, giggling with delight.
"Very good, Frodo! Very good, indeed. Now, are you ready to go down to the festivities? If we don't get some treats soon I fear we will both perish from hunger!" Bilbo said.
Taking his uncle's offered hand, Frodo began fairly scampering toward the door, still meowing heartily. He stopped suddenly, however, looking up at his uncle alarmed at a sudden thought.
"Unga Bee, Fwo no' wanna ea' a mouse!" Frodo's voice was worried, remembering that cats liked to eat mice.
Bilbo laughed again.
"Don't worry, dear boy. I do believe we'll be able to find you something much nicer than mice to eat."
Mr. Peeper sat by the door watching the pair make their way down toward the lights of the party tree - wondering what could be wrong with eating mice.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Several hours later, Bilbo entered his darkened house once more. Asleep on his shoulder was one very tired, very full hobbit lad. The night had been full of fun and games and food. All who had seen him remarked they had never seen a handsomer cat - and with such a jaunty tail! Frodo had been delighted by the sights and sounds and songs. Delicious foods, treats of every sort were on hand to keep a hungry cat like him well fed. He had played and laughed and danced until he was too tired to do anything more but climb into his uncle's lap, his sleepy eyes still watching the flickering lights from the many paper lanterns adorning the party tree as well as the ones softly glowing from within the many carved pumpkins. On music made for dancing he had drifted to sleep.
On the edge of his big bed, in his own room, Bilbo sat with Frodo cradled in his arms and deftly unfastened the tail. The hat button proved much easier to unfasten with Frodo limply placid, his body stilled with deep asleep. Gently Bilbo removed the hat from his nephew's head, the curls beneath wild and damp when he ran his fingers through them. Frodo sighed deeply, furrowing his brow and puckering his lips for a short moment as though he were about to awake before his face was once more slack in repose. The white mitts slipped easily from Frodo's hands and moving very slowly, Bilbo rose and pulled back the quilts and sheets. He would let Frodo be a kitty-cat for the rest of the night rather than risk waking him from such a peaceful sleep changing his clothes. In the middle of the bed Bilbo deposited his small relative, watching with a smile as Frodo stretched languidly in his sleep then curled on his side. Bilbo pulled the blankets up to his chin and placed a soft kiss upon the baby's warm rosy cheek, still marked with black whiskers.
After he had put out all the candles but the one on the bed side and raked down the coals, Bilbo quickly dressed in his night shirt. He lowered himself gently, trying not to jostle Frodo. Once under the blankets he leaned over and put out the final candle and settled his head comfortably upon his pillow. He lay in silence for several moments. Just as he was about to drift away on dreams of his own, a small, soft voice, thick with sleep reached his ears.
"Unga Bee?" The baby whispered.
"Yes, my lad." Bilbo answered softly.
"Tee-tats wike be petted." He said simply, yawning and wriggling closer to his uncle who encircled him in the crook of his arm.
"Do they now, lad?" Bilbo chuckled softly, taking the hint.
Tenderly he "petted" his nephew, running gentle fingers through his curls and softly caressing his warm cheeks. Frodo sighed, drifting back to sleep.
At the foot of the bed, Mr. Peeper, curled into a warm ball of fur, encircled in his own fuzzy tail, purred contentedly.
THE END
X-posted to my journal - and maybe a few other places.
This one comes with a diabetic warning, folks. Behind the cut, cuteness, sweetness and pure shmoopy fluff abounds. It has hobbits - baby ones! In adorable costumes, no less! Proceed with utter caution. Written in the "Fwo and Unga Bee" universe, this is purely for fun - not meant to be a serious work or fit perfectly into cannon. Plot holes may also abound among the fluff. My advice? Just go with it. It's fanfic of the fluffiest, silliest kind. It's meant to be fun. Enjoy!
General Fan fic.
No profanity, no slash, rated G...come'on, what'd you expect - it has baby hobbits in it for crying out loud!
Not for profit - just a bit of fun, Gandalf!
Not my characters. If you thought they might be, are you new around here? :-p
IT'S BACK AGAIN - A SPOOKY HOBBIT'S TAIL
Or, "I Do Believe in Spooks! I Do believe in Spooks!"
"Frodo! Hold still, lad." Bilbo groused good naturedly. He had been struggling to fasten a button under the boy's chin. Every time he almost had it, his nephew inevitably chose that second to move and the tiny button slipped out of his fingers in a most exasperating manner.
"Fwo a tee-tat now, Unga Bee?" Frodo asked excitedly.
"Not quite yet, lad." Bilbo answered, once more adjusting the cap so that the black and pink velvet ears were in the right spot atop Frodo's head. "And at this rate, you may never be a kitty-cat if you don't hold still." Bilbo punctuated his point with a gentle tap on Frodo's pink painted nose. Thin, black paint whiskers spread across his rosy cheeks as he giggled.
"Be 'till, Unga Bee." Frodo promised.
"All right. That's a good lad." Bilbo smiled and resumed trying to secure the hat in place.
Frodo was still. That is, he did try to be still for he very much wanted to be a kitty-cat. But something mysterious and black, just behind his shoulder, caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and there was nothing for him to do but swivel his curly head around in effort to see it.
"Frodo!" Bilbo exclaimed as the button was once again lost.
"Unga Bee!" Frodo gasped, perplexed that the mysterious object had disappeared before he had caught full sight of it.
The little hobbit wriggled left and right trying to find whatever it had been. He could never find it, though he always had a feeling it was hovering, lurking just out of his sight.
"Dear boy, if you don't sit still and let me get this blasted button fastened we'll miss the whole festival." Bilbo's patience was running thin by this point.
"Bu', Unga Bee-ee! Fwo see!" Frodo tried to explain, pointing in the direction from which the mysterious "something" had come. Just yesterday, while visiting Brandy Hall, one of his older cousins had told him (unbeknownst to his mum) a scary story about "spooks". Frodo wasn't sure exactly what a "spook" was, but they didn't sound very nice.
Bilbo looked about his tidy kitchen. To his eyes, everything seemed to be in proper order. The pots were hung from the ceiling hooks, the stove burned a low, guttering fire. Mr. Peeper, his cat (and inspiration for the costume he was trying to get onto his nephew) was perched on a stool in the corner, watching the proceedings thinking that somehow to him, that child looked oddly familiar.
"Frodo, there's nothing there, lad." Bilbo assured him.
"I've an idea. Why don't you close your eyes for a moment while Uncle Bilbo finishes this, hm?" Bilbo suggested.
Frodo nodded obediently, veiling his blue eyes beneath the dark-lashed lids.
"That's a good lad!" Bilbo praised and once more set about trying to get that button fastened.
It was at an odd angle, situated as it was beneath Frodo's chin, and tiny besides. Bilbo mentally grumped, vowing to later inquire of Mrs. Gamgee just what it was she had against the using of reasonably sized buttons in her stitchery. Still, he thought, she had done a wonderful job of making it - and on rather short notice as well. The costume was just perfect for making a little lad of Frodo's size look like a black cat with a white belly and long, black, jaunty tail, held stiff with a piece of flexible wire, wrapped cleverly inside the stuffing, fastened onto the suit with buttons. It was comfortable and warm by all appearances, as well, made of velvet and lined with a soft woolen material. A costume as warm as that would allow Frodo to be outside at the Hobbiton Harvest Festival without need of a coat. The long sleeves were cunningly stitched at the wrists so they wouldn't ride up as were the pant legs which reached all the way to Frodo's ankles. The hat, complete with stitched-on cat ears (if they ever got it on!) would keep his real ears warm. Small white mitts completed the costume giving Frodo white "paws", "dus' wike Mistah Peepah!", as Frodo had exclaimed upon seeing them.
Frodo sat, eyes closed as promised. However, he still had the feeling that there was a "spook" (for in his two year old mind, a "spook" was certainly what it must be!) lurking just over one shoulder then the other. He tried very hard not to move, but he just couldn't help wriggling a little. Just then, an idea struck his uncle. There was nothing he could do about the size of the button, but he could work it from a slightly less awkward angle. He lifted the little hobbit easily and deposited him upon his lap as he sat tiredly in the nearest chair. With Frodo sitting in front of him, facing forward, it would be almost as if he were fastening his own waist coat. Why hadn't he thought of that before, he wondered?
"Frodo, tilt your head back, lad. That's a boy." Bilbo chucked as Frodo immediately obeyed, still keeping his eyes closed tightly.
The idea was brilliance and the stubborn button was fastened in a matter of seconds.
"Ah, there we are, Frodo." Bilbo exclaimed, smiling. He planted a quick kiss into the curls peeking from beneath the boy's cap above his brow. "All finished. You can open your eyes now."
Unwittingly, Bilbo had unleashed something dark and terrible onto his small nephew. At least that's what an on-looker might have deduced watching the events that unfolded in the next few seconds. What had really happened was that Frodo's jaunty tail, pressed against Bilbo's mid-section, had curved itself over Frodo's head, directly in the little hobbit's line of vision.
When Frodo opened his eyes he could hardly believe them. There, right in front of his face, ready to eat his newly painted nose was a spook! For several seconds he couldn't make a sound. Bilbo was utterly perplexed when Frodo began scrambling backwards, pressing himself into his uncle, angling his head back as far as Bilbo's generous mid-section would allow. Frodo's lip trembled and his eyes were huge as he struggled to get away from the horrid thing.
"Aaaaagghh! Unga! Bee!!" Frodo exclaimed.
"What in Middle Earth, lad...?" Bilbo tried to get a hold on his terrified nephew. Just at that second however, the tail bent further over and tapped Frodo on the nose, sending him into further fits of hysteria. At that, Frodo screamed even louder and launched himself right out of Bilbo's lap.
"Frodo!" Bilbo cried, alarmed to see the little lad suddenly on the floor.
For several seconds, Frodo sat stunned from the sudden impact. He had landed on his (thankfully) well padded bottom and the menacing spook had disappeared once more.
Bilbo hurried to his feet and started toward his nephew.
"Frodo, my little lad, are you all right? What in Middle Earth has gotten into you?" Bilbo bent to scoop up the little hobbit who was still sitting with wide, frightened eyes.
"A 'pook, Unga Bee!" Frodo cried from the vicinity of his uncle's neck as he snuggled gratefully into his uncle's embrace. The little hobbit still kept a wary eye out in case the spook decided to come back.
"A spook? Where did you hear of spooks?" Bilbo asked, holding his nephew's small trembling body protectively close against him, rubbing the velvet clad back in soothing circles.
"Malco." Frodo answered simply, laying his head on Bilbo's shoulder, his little fingers coming to twine in Bilbo's hair in a way that always made him feel safe.
"Oh, I see." Bilbo said softly, making a mental note to have a word with Malco's mother. Bilbo well remembered frightening stories told to him and he knew how real they could seem - especially to a child as young as Frodo. He decided to play along.
"Tell me about this spook, lad. What did it look like?" Bilbo asked softly, still cuddling Frodo close.
"Big!" Frodo answered.
"It was big? What else. Tell me all about it." Bilbo encouraged.
"Wong an' it twy ea' Fwo's nose!" Frodo explained, gesturing with his hands behind Bilbo's neck just how terribly long and frightening it had been.
Sudden understanding dawned on Bilbo.
"Frodo, did it look anything at all like this?" Bilbo asked, giving Mr. Peeper's tail a gentle tug.
Frodo studied the cat's tail. It did look a lot like the spook - only, not so big.
The little hobbit nodded at his uncle, his face very serious and grave. Bilbo couldn't help laughing as the pieces began to fit together.
"My dear, little lad." Bilbo laughed, hugging his nephew affectionately close. "You silly Baggins - that's no spook. Why, twas nothing but your own tail!" Bilbo laughed, pulling the costume tail around to Frodo's front to show him it was harmless.
"Fwo dot a taiw? Dus' wike Mistah Peepah?" Frodo giggled as he touched it.
"Yes, lad. And it's nothing at all to be frightened of, I assure you." Bilbo was still laughing.
"Unga Bee, Fwo tee-tat now?" Frodo asked.
Bilbo held Frodo out to have a good look at him. Then he had a better idea.
"Why don't you look and see for yourself, Frodo." Bilbo carried his small nephew into the parlor and stood him before the tall mirror.
Frodo could hardly believe his eyes. He stood for long moments just staring at himself in wonder. When had he grown those whiskers, he wondered? His small hands patted the pink and black velvet ears gently. A slow grin grew across his face.
"Fwo tee-tat!" He declared, giggling.
He found that the tail which had vexed him earlier now delighted him, bobbing and swaying as he moved. Bilbo laughed out loud as Frodo twisted his backside in imitation of Mr. Peeper's swishing tail.
"Mee-oow! Mee-ooow!" Frodo cried, giggling with delight.
"Very good, Frodo! Very good, indeed. Now, are you ready to go down to the festivities? If we don't get some treats soon I fear we will both perish from hunger!" Bilbo said.
Taking his uncle's offered hand, Frodo began fairly scampering toward the door, still meowing heartily. He stopped suddenly, however, looking up at his uncle alarmed at a sudden thought.
"Unga Bee, Fwo no' wanna ea' a mouse!" Frodo's voice was worried, remembering that cats liked to eat mice.
Bilbo laughed again.
"Don't worry, dear boy. I do believe we'll be able to find you something much nicer than mice to eat."
Mr. Peeper sat by the door watching the pair make their way down toward the lights of the party tree - wondering what could be wrong with eating mice.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Several hours later, Bilbo entered his darkened house once more. Asleep on his shoulder was one very tired, very full hobbit lad. The night had been full of fun and games and food. All who had seen him remarked they had never seen a handsomer cat - and with such a jaunty tail! Frodo had been delighted by the sights and sounds and songs. Delicious foods, treats of every sort were on hand to keep a hungry cat like him well fed. He had played and laughed and danced until he was too tired to do anything more but climb into his uncle's lap, his sleepy eyes still watching the flickering lights from the many paper lanterns adorning the party tree as well as the ones softly glowing from within the many carved pumpkins. On music made for dancing he had drifted to sleep.
On the edge of his big bed, in his own room, Bilbo sat with Frodo cradled in his arms and deftly unfastened the tail. The hat button proved much easier to unfasten with Frodo limply placid, his body stilled with deep asleep. Gently Bilbo removed the hat from his nephew's head, the curls beneath wild and damp when he ran his fingers through them. Frodo sighed deeply, furrowing his brow and puckering his lips for a short moment as though he were about to awake before his face was once more slack in repose. The white mitts slipped easily from Frodo's hands and moving very slowly, Bilbo rose and pulled back the quilts and sheets. He would let Frodo be a kitty-cat for the rest of the night rather than risk waking him from such a peaceful sleep changing his clothes. In the middle of the bed Bilbo deposited his small relative, watching with a smile as Frodo stretched languidly in his sleep then curled on his side. Bilbo pulled the blankets up to his chin and placed a soft kiss upon the baby's warm rosy cheek, still marked with black whiskers.
After he had put out all the candles but the one on the bed side and raked down the coals, Bilbo quickly dressed in his night shirt. He lowered himself gently, trying not to jostle Frodo. Once under the blankets he leaned over and put out the final candle and settled his head comfortably upon his pillow. He lay in silence for several moments. Just as he was about to drift away on dreams of his own, a small, soft voice, thick with sleep reached his ears.
"Unga Bee?" The baby whispered.
"Yes, my lad." Bilbo answered softly.
"Tee-tats wike be petted." He said simply, yawning and wriggling closer to his uncle who encircled him in the crook of his arm.
"Do they now, lad?" Bilbo chuckled softly, taking the hint.
Tenderly he "petted" his nephew, running gentle fingers through his curls and softly caressing his warm cheeks. Frodo sighed, drifting back to sleep.
At the foot of the bed, Mr. Peeper, curled into a warm ball of fur, encircled in his own fuzzy tail, purred contentedly.
THE END
X-posted to my journal - and maybe a few other places.
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Date: 2006-10-31 10:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-02 03:17 pm (UTC)Glad you liked it!
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Date: 2006-10-31 10:45 pm (UTC)"Mee-oow! Mee-ooow!" Frodo cried, giggling with delight.
"Unga Bee?" The baby whispered.
"Yes, my lad." Bilbo answered softly.
"Tee-tats wike be petted." He said simply, yawning and wriggling closer to his uncle who encircled him in the crook of his arm.
*happy happy happy*
♥
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