Rehobbilitation

A Lord of the Rings fanfic

By

EvilFuzzy9

"I still don't see why we have to introduce him as MY cousin," whined Meriadoc Brandybuck, Squire of Rohan, Companion of the Ring-bearer, co-Slayer of the Witch-king, and doubtless several other titles besides, in a manner most unbefitting a full grown hobbit.

Sméagol stuck his tongue out at Merry, sheltering himself under a parasol as he rode along behind Samwise. He was dressed in ratty hand-me-downs of Frodo's that fit his emaciated frame only loosely, his large lamplike eyes glinting out from under the shade of his umbrella.

Gandalf, riding at the head of the group alongside Frodo, spoke without even bothering to turn his head.

"As I have said several times before, Master Meriadoc, Sméagol is a hobbit of old Stoorish stock. He possesses many of the peculiarities of that breed and culture which set him apart from any Harfoot or Fallohide," the wizard explained wearily, likely having had to say things of this sort many times before. "For example, a fondness of water, and some skill with fishing and boat-craft."

Sam nodded gravely from the back of his pony.

"Right," he said. "No sensible Hobbiton folk would be caught dead messing around on the river, or in boats — no offense, Mister Merry!"

"None taken," Merry muttered, giving Sam a look that strongly suggested otherwise. "But I still don't see why it has to be me."

Frodo sighed.

"Well, I can't very well try to pass him off as a Baggins," said the Ring-bearer himself, looking over his shoulder at Merry. "Lobelia would see right through it, and I reckon Lotho would take it personally. You know how the Sackville-Bagginses are."

"And I doubt he'd pass very well for a Took, either," added Pippin. "He'd be sniffed out as an impostor quicker than a Bolger trying to pass for a Proudfoot."

Merry winced, and Sam and Frodo nodded gravely. This statement clearly made perfect sense to them.

"It is advisable that you stay as close to the truth as possible – but not to the whole truth," Gandalf added, this time actually looking back at Merry. He squinted his eyes. "For a number of reasons."

Sméagol averted his gaze from Gandalf.

"We doesn't wants to be a stupid Brandybuck anyways, no we doesn't..." he muttered to himself. "Sméagol is Sméagol."

Merry glowered at this.

"And what's wrong with being a Brandybuck?" he demanded.

Sam was quick with his response.

"Well they are a little queer," he said, "those folk over in Buckland. Even you can't deny that, Mister Merry."

"I can, and I will," Merry sniffed. "Brandybucks are perfectly respectable folk. It's you Hobbiton dandies who have your heads on backwards. You're afraid to even go in a boat!"

Pippin laughed.

"At least old Bilbo had plenty of Took in him," he said. "Otherwise he never would have taken one step out the door."

Sméagol twitched a little bit at this. His expression was just a touch mulish.

"Too much Took, we thinks," he murmured peevishly, his voice low and raspy from long years of ill-use. He lowered his parasol a little bit, shielding his eyes from the Yellow Face.

Pippin's face faintly reddened.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" he demanded a hint shrilly.

Sam weakly chuckled at this, and Frodo laughed cheerily. Merry guffawed, and gave Sméagol a slap on the shoulder.

This, of course, caused the skittish old thing to shriek and flail wildly, swinging his parasol in reflexive terror. It struck the flank of his and Sam's pony, spooking it quite thoroughly in combination with Sméagol's cry, and the chestnut pack animal reared up with a sharp whinny.

And this, in turn, frightened the other ponies, and as quick as that they bolted, their riders still hanging on for dear life.

It would take Gandalf and Shadowfax the better part of an hour to round them all up.

A/N: Thanks to the two people who have reviewed this, so far! :D

I am really amused by the idea of Sméagol with a parasol, for some reason. (Also, these chapters aren't necessarily in chronological order)

Updated: 6-21-14

TTFN and R&R!

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