Stories of Arda Home Page
About Us News Resources Login Become a member Help Search
swiss replica watches replica watches uk Replica Rolex DateJust Watches

A Shire Sketchbook  by Baggins Babe

Written for Tigger, who requested a story about Aragorn receiving a small furry animal as a Yule gift from Arwen, with a little help from the hobbits. Takes place during and after the events in 'Reunion in Minas Tirith.'

l429 SR

 The hobbits were going for lunch at their favourite inn in Minas Anor. Their visit was almost over and it would soon be time to make the return journey to the Shire, to avoid any severe weather which might otherwise trouble them. They were making the most of their last few days, visiting the shops and markets for gifts to take back to friends and family. Rose carried a basket and baby Pip was secured in her shawl, resting against her breast. Sam had an armful of parcels, most of which were Frodo's as Sam had insisted on relieving him of all of them. Merry and Pippin carried assorted packages, some of them distinctly oddly shaped. It was more than time for a rest and a decent luncheon.

       "I vote we make for the Jolly Oli," said Pip. "It's only round that corner."

       "Even the baby thinks it's long past his lunch-time," said Rose. "Lead on, Pippin."

       They rounded the corner and made for The Merry Mumak - or the Jolly Oliphaunt, as the hobbits had named it in Gondor after the Coronation. It was owned by Adamir, a kind man who had gone to fight at the Black Gate, where he was injured and rescued on the battlefield by Legolas, taken to the healers and treated by the King himself. He had grown to know and love the hobbits dearly during the time in Cormallen, and after the return to the city he re-opened his inn and told his friends they would always be welcome. They had taken him up on his offer many times then, and during the recent visit.

       Adamir was outside the open door, feeding a small tabby and white cat who was rubbing round his legs.

       "Feeding the strays again, Adamir?" Merry called. The man looked up and waved.

       "She's around all the time now, and no-one seems to know who she belongs to. I'd take her in but Orci hates cats. I'm afraid he'd kill her." Orci was the massive dog who lounged behind the bar. He was a friendly enough dog, unless his master commanded him to be otherwise, but he had been attacked by a cat when young, and blinded in one eye.

       Frodo fondled the little cat's head. "She is in kitten, poor little lass. No more than a kitten herself and already expecting." He tutted and caressed the creature before reluctantly slipping round the door and closing it behind him.

       "She cries piteously when the door is closed. I hate shutting her out but what can I do?"

       "Where will she have her kittens? Poor thing."

       Pippin brightened. "Don't worry, Rose. I've an idea. Aragorn keeps saying he wants a cat of his own - we'll take her back to the Citadel and get one of the kitchen staff to look after her."

       Frodo and Sam looked at each other and back to Pip. "Eh?"

       "You'll have to excuse these two," said Merry airily as Adamir poured their drinks.. "They find Pip's thought processes hard to follow sometimes."

       Pip sighed and went on with an air of martyred patience, as though speaking to the simple. "We leave her with someone in the kitchens - old whatshisname - the Master of the Pantries - he likes cats. Then we go and find Arwen and tell her, and when the kittens are born she can choose one for Aragorn for a Yule present. It will be perfect!"

       "Well..............." Frodo looked very tempted as he sipped his ale.

       "Go on, Fro. We can carry her back in Rose's basket - she's a tame little thing and you can do anything with cats." Pippin looked inordinately pleased with himself.

       "I don't believe I'm saying this, but I think it's a good idea," said Rose. "I can't bear the thought of her having her kittens out in the street, with no shelter." She carried Pip into a back room at the invitation of Adamir's wife, and the others settled themselves and contemplated the menu.

       "What did she mean, she doesn't believe she's saying it? Is Rose trying to say she doesn't usually agree with my ideas?" Pippin looked wounded.

       "Something like that," Frodo agreed. "But she's right. The more I think about it the more I like it."

       They were interrupted by Orci ambling over to greet them, The hobbits were engaging visitors who always fed him and made a fuss of him. He was a dark brown in colour, the size of a small pony, with long ears, droopy jowls and a permanently mournful expression. His good eye was a deep brown but the right eye was a milky colour, blank and unseeing.

        "Hello Orci boy!" said Pippin, patting the large head. Orci wagged his tail, sweeping a few tankards from a low table and thwacking the wall loudly. Everyone laughed and the tail moved even faster, causing Adamir to run about, rescuing his tankards and muttering.

       "Orci1 Stop wagging that damned tail! Mind what you're doing!" He sighed as the dog gave him a puzzled look, the great brow furrowing.

       "Oh poor Orci, he looks baffled," Merry said.

       Sam patted the broad head. "Poor old lad - you don't have much control over that tail, do you?"

       Orci snuffled at Sam's pocket and happily accepted some peppermints.

                                                                             ************

       When lunch was over, the hobbits took their leave and stepped into the sunshine. The little cat was curled up on a blanket in the crate Adamir had given her as a bed, but she woke as soon as she heard voices. Sam placed the blanket in Rose's basket and Frodo lifted the cat very carefully and sat her inside, stroking her in reassurance. When she seemed settled they set off, Frodo carrying the basket over his arm. His other hand was then free to stroke the cat and hold her should she attempt to jump out. She clearly found this a little strange at first but then decided nothing bad could happen to her, and curled up, her face resting in Frodo's cupped hand. Their odd luggage drew some comments from stall holders and shoppers as they made their way back to the Citadel, but they were given and received with good humour.

       The guards in the Courtyard of the Fountain looked rather nonplussed as the cheerful group hurried past. They were used to Merry and Pippin planning pranks and bringing in peculiar things, but the sight of the Lord Frodo carrying a basket with a cat inside was more a slightly odd.

       They hastened to the area of the kitchens and made their way to the pantry block, where Lindirion, Master of the Pantries, was likely to be found. The tall, dark haired Man was going through his inventory, checking supplies and preparing an order for the merchants. He was always pleased to see the Pheriannath, and put down his pen as they appeared.

       "My dear friends! This is a pleasure. What can I do for you?" He peered in the basket and his eyebrows rose. "What is this?"

       "We found her on the first level. No-one knows where she comes from and no-one seems to want her. She is in kitten too." Pip gazed up at the Man, his face unusually serious. "Ara......our Lord Elessar has long wanted a cat of his own. We thought the Lady Arwen might like to give him one of the kittens as a Yule gift. Merry and I will go and fetch her." The two scuttled out, leaving Frodo, Sam and Rose with Lindirion.

       "I wonder if she's good at catching vermin?" the Man pondered.

       "Adamir did say she was always catching mice," Frodo replied. He glanced out into the small patch of garden behind the kitchens, where a freshly-dug square of earth marked the last resting-place of the previous kichen cat, who had died three weeks before.

       "We certainly need a new mouser. They took advantage of Tinkin's age and weakness in the last few months, and since his death they are running amok. Poison is not appropriate in a kitchen, and our lord King says better a cat than mice in the kitchen." He stroked the cat's head as she stepped daintily out of the basket and began to explore her surroundings.

       By the time Merry and Pip returned with Arwen, three dead mice were spread out at Lindirion's feet and the cat was eating from a plate of chopped chicken.

       "My Lady Queen!" Lindirion bowed.

       "Master Lindirion. I see you have a new member of the kitchen staff," Arwen murmured, her lips curving in a gentle smile.

       "She is fast and clever. I believe she will be a good replacement for Tinkin, my lady."

        Arwen lifted the cat onto a stool and ran her hands along the rounded sides. "Two kittens........due in about two weeks, I believe. Estel shall receive a double Yule gift I think. Double the trouble and double the fun, as he would say. Please keep the kittens a secret from my husband, Master Lindirion. When her time comes, please send for me. This is undoubtedly her first litter and she may be alarmed. I should like to be with her if I can."

        "I will, my Lady. I am not sure what to call her. I must think of a name."

        "She has a little doll face, doesn't she?" said Rose. "Why not call her Dolly?"

       The Man looked at the hobbits, then at the cat. Finally he nodded. "Yes, that sounds a good name - and quite ....er......hobbity. We shall always be reminded of you all."

       Dolly became aware that she was the centre of attention. She sat composedly washing herself, glancing from one face to the next. Then she curled up under Lindirion's desk and went to sleep.

       "I think she has found herself a home - with some help from you, my dear friends," said Arwen, and accompanied her guests back to the Royal Apartments.

                                                                              ************

       In Gondor the festival at Yule was called Mettarė, but Aragorn was used to celebrating in the northern fashion, so he combined the two. Gifts were exchanged and breakfast was always taken with the family. Then an audience was held, for diplomats and other guests who were in the City. It was an enjoyable time for all.

       Arwen awoke and slipped silently from the bed, leaving Aragorn sleeping. She hurried into her dressing room, where the kittens had spent their first nightaway from their mother. The two tiny creatures were asleep, curled round each other, a tangle of paws, heads and tails. When Arwen stroked them they sat up with a chirrup, yawning and stretching and clambering out of their basket, eager to be about the business of play and breakfast. They went to the tray of sand which had been left for them, relieved themselves, scratched sand in all directions and looked around for food.

        "Not yet, my little ones. Your Ada is waiting." She popped them into a box and carried it through to the bedchamber, where she placed it on the bed and leaned over to kiss her husband awake.

        "Merry Yule and a joyful Mettare, my husband." Aragorn opened his eyes and smiled when he saw his wife smiling tenderly down on him.

       "Mmmmm. What a wonderful way to be woken." He kissed her and pulled her down to him.

       "Enough of that, Estel! I have a present for you, my love."

       "Oh good! You are my present," he teased, holding her hands above her head.

       "You won't be receiving any presents at all it you don't behave yourself!" Despite her words, her reproof was gentle as she tapped him on the head..

       "Very well," he said. "I'll be good." He composed himself and settled back on the pillows.

       "Here we are - a gift from me .........with a little help from our friends in the Shire." She placed the box beside him on the coverlet.

       "What have we here - I would be prepared to swear that box moved!"

       "Moved, my love?" Arwen opened her eyes very wide and blinked innocently. "How can a box move?"

       "You have become a wicked tease since our marriage, beloved." Aragorn sat up and drew the box towards him.

       "Ah, but who taught me?" She grinned impishly and tucked her feet up under her nightgown.

       "Cheek! You needed no teaching whatsoever." He listened to the box for a moment and then raised the lid. Two small faces peeped up at him and two small mouths opened, revealing pink tongues and needle-sharp teeth. One kitten yawned and the other miaowed loudly. "Dol Amroth Swimming Cats! Where did you find them?"

       "The father may have been a Swimming Cat but the mother is a little tabby and white stray. The hobbits found her hanging around outside their favourite inn - you know, the one they call the Jolly Oliphaunt."

       Aragorn laughed. "The Merry Mumack. The landlord is a good man. So they told you about the stray cat, did they?"

       "No, they brought her back to the Citadel and gave her to the Master of the Pantries to look after. Then they fetched me, because they knew you wanted a kitten and she was obviously pregnant. The kitchen cat had died of old age and the mice were running riot, so poor Master Lindirion was only too pleased to acquire an efficient mouser." She giggled. "Our small friends seem to have a happy knack for finding the right thing at the right time."

       "They are so beautiful. Unusual markings and so pretty. Well my pretty ones, are you going to greet me?" The two naughty little imps were similarly marked - long, silver fur, with snow-white paws and tail tips, and tabby ears and tails. Their eyes were a deep jade green, rimmed with black as though painted with kohl.

       The kittens clambered out and began exploring the coverlet. Aragorn wiggled his fingers under the bedclothes and they pounced and jumped and stalked until the King and Queen were helpless with laughter.

       "Thank you, my love. They are absolutely perfect and utterly delightful. The children will be beside themselves when they see them." He pulled Arwen into his arms and they watched the tiny creatures play and tumble until they were tired out and went to sleep in the centre of the bed.

                                                                              ************

       During the Stewardship of the Lord Denethor, audiences were something of an ordeal for officials and guests. The Steward sat on a chair on a raised dais and each guest advanced, having been briefed on the correct number of steps to take, and whether to bow or kneel. Audiences with the Lord King Elessar were much less formal, and the Yule morning affair was particularly pleasurable. Light refreshments and finger food were served and the King and Queen, together with their children and the Steward and his Lady, circulated among their guests, chatting freely while the children played at one end of the chamber.

       The Lord Chamberlain and the Master of Protocol stood together, watching the guests as they waited for the royal couple. They had both been very relieved when the complex and rigid rules of etiquette were thrown out by the Lord Elessar; court audiences became a pleasure rather than a chore.

       "Here they come. What is our King wearing round his neck?"

       "It looks like.......a kitten! And there's another one tucked in his shirt, under his chin. One can hardly imagine the Lord Denethor walking round at one of his audiences with two kittens on his shoulders!"

       "The Lord Denethor would never walk around at an audience, with or without kittens!"

       "Ah! My lords. Yuletide greetings to you both. What do you think of my Queen's gift?"

       "Dol Amroth Swimming Cats - very pretty, my lord King."

       "Actually they are not - the father must have been, but they are not pedigrees, and all the better for that. These two have a healthy amount of what our hobbit friends call 'moggy' in them. So far this morning they have climbed to the top of the bed curtains, terrorised the hounds, entertained the children, eaten two meals, sharpened their claws on a beautiful Elven tapestry and upset the contents of their sand tray!"

       "Have you decided what to call them, my lord?"

       "I suspect I shall be calling them some very improper names if they continue to misbehave! However, I thought of naming them after my brothers, but decided that their talent for making mischief and causing chaos wherever they go means they can only be called after the two most rascally beings I have ever encountered."

       "And their names.................?"

       "Why, Merry and Pippin of course!"





<< Back

Next >>

Leave Review
Home     Search     Chapter List