Author’s Note: This is the companion piece to “Accursed Livery”. The song is “Nancy Whisky”, which just sounded hobbity to me.

Lost Livery

It was only a day after Pippin’s little adventure with his unruly armour. Aragorn and Faramir had spent another long day at council, and were both sitting sprawled into chairs in the King’s office, nursing glasses of fine Dol Amroth wine. Faramir liked that the King was able to abandon his regal attitude and sit like a Ranger. It was something that his father would never have done.

Strangely, the rest of the Fellowship was missing. They were in the habit of gathering every evening to talk and laugh together, and both King and Steward wondered where they were. When Faramir mentioned it, Aragorn grunted and rolled his eyes.

“Frodo is likely in the library with Gandalf and Sam, Gimli will be with the younger hobbits, and I really have no idea where Legolas could be. Probably with Gimli,” he said.

Faramir nodded, content with this guess. At that moment, however, came an urgent knock on the door, and a moment later, a harried looking courtier burst in.

“My lords…your Grace…” he panted. “The pheriannath…the halflings…”

Aragorn was on his feet in a moment. “What happened? What is it?”

The courtier took a deep breath; he had obviously come at a run. “They’ve gotten rather inebriated-“

The door burst open again, this time emitting Legolas, his blond hair in disarray, the front of his tunic soaked in what looked like ale. When he saw them all staring at him, he straightened up and attempted to look dignified. “It’s not my fault,” he proclaimed.

Aragorn dropped his face into his hands and groaned.

*****

They could hear the singing from two streets away. Aragorn had thanked and dismissed the courtier, and he, Faramir and Legolas had proceeded alone.

“What are you going to do?” Faramir asked, curiously.

“Give them a warning,” Aragorn said drily. “They’re hobbits, Faramir. Punishment will only incur their wrath and revenge. I speak from experience.”

Legolas gave Faramir a dark look, and Faramir found himself grinning. So, the King and the Elf were both afraid of the hobbits. Amazing.

The pub was a good-sized, bright affair, very homey and welcoming. Aragorn strode inside and looked around. He found his quarry after a second.

“The more I kissed her, the more I loved her, the more I kissed her, the more she smiled, I forgot my mother’s teachings: Nancy soon had me beguiled!” the hobbits were singing. “Hullo, Strider!” Pippin bellowed, waving across the room.

“Peregrin Took!” bawled Aragorn. “What in the name of wonder are you doing?!”

Pippin bowed, and Faramir fought the urge to laugh. “I am guarding the Ringbearer, my friend. As you see, he is rather drunk.”

Legolas made a choking sound, and traded a glance with Faramir. The Elf had left the pub to find Aragorn when Frodo had keeled over from too much of the Rohirrims’ homebrew. That had been when Pippin decided that his livery was too uncomfortable to wear on a night at the inn, and had leapt on the table to pull it all off. Once again, he was absurdly tangled up, but had managed to get both his tunic and his trousers…off. They hung from the light above the hobbits table.

It was lucky, Aragorn thought, that the pub was mostly full of the Rohirrim, and not so much the soldiers of Gondor. They were too involved in bar fights and bawdy songs to see him stride over to the table, seize Pippin and toss him over his shoulder, and haul Frodo up under his arm. Gimli, who had sat there rather sheepishly as Pippin explained himself, aided a stumbling Sam to his feet, and Faramir guided Merry. Together, they left the pub at top speed.

*****

“Dancing half naked on a table, Gandalf!” Aragorn wailed. “Half naked!”

Gandalf chuckled, tapping his pipe. “He did tell me that he had warned you of doing something to that equivalent.”

Aragorn rubbed his temples. “He threatened to go on guard duty naked. I didn’t think that he would actually do something like it.”

“Well, at least he was in a pub, where everyone else was drunk, too. It could have been worse.”

“Oh, really? How?”

Gandalf smiled and calmly refilled his pipe. “What would you say, King Elessar, if you saw a hobbit guarding the Citadel in the nude?”

Aragorn stared at him for a moment, than groaned. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that he is a hobbit, Aragorn, and hobbits do mad things. Let it go,” Gandalf advised. “It’s not worth getting into a fuss over.”

Aragorn sighed and nodded. Sometimes, there was wisdom in just forgetting. Especially when hobbits were involved.