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b2mem2012-03-07 11:27 pm
azalaisdep.livejournal.com) wrote in b2mem2012-03-07 11:27 pm
Last Lines, B10, We jumped - Mischief Aforethought
Challenge: Last Lines card: B10, "We jumped."
Author: Azalais
Title: Mischief Aforethought
Genre: Humour
Length: Ficlet
Characters: Gandalf, Moro Baggins, Myrtle Baggins
Rating: G
Warnings: none, except grumpy!Gandalf
Summary: "A rumour was spread about that there were going to be fireworks...."
Mischief Aforethought
The Shire, September 14 3001, Third Age
The driver of the cart hummed to himself contentedly as the horse clopped steadily through the lanes towards Hobbiton; he had made good time, and it was a glorious day. It really was far too long since he had been in the Shire...
“Gandalf! Fireworks, Gandalf?”
He chuckled, shaking his blue-hatted head at the hopeful cries of the hobbit-children who scampered barefoot behind the cart. My reputation, it would seem, still precedes me. “All in good time!” he called over his shoulder, and returned his pipe to his mouth to blow the disappointed imps a series of smoke-rings as he proceeded up the hill.
As he passed up the part of the lane overhung by a tunnel of beech-trees, their leaves just beginning their transition from green to exuberant deep red, he frowned. Was that rustling overhead nothing but a squirrel? And had he just felt a bump at the back of the cart – or was that only the ruts in the lane?
Drawing up before the door of Bag End, he paused. Rather than getting down, he stood up in the cart and turned around, drawing himself up to his full height.
“All right, you rascal Tooks or Bolgers or Bagginses or whatever you are. Out you come!”
A suppressed gasp was followed by a suspicious silence. Gandalf drew a deep breath.
“Do you think I was born yesterday? I have been evicting hobbit-imps who should know better from among my fireworks since the days of your grandfathers! Out!”
Scuffling and whispering. A lad and a lass, tousle-haired and sunburnt-nosed; the lad looked alarmed, the girl defiant.
“And who, pray, are you?”
“M-Moro Baggins and Myrtle Baggins...” the boy stammered... “sir.”
“Do you know what I do to over-inquisitive children who rummage among a wizard's parcels?” he thundered.
“You... you turn them into frogs?”
“I might.” He drew the bushiest eyebrows ever seen in the Shire into his best scowl. “But more usually... I make them unpack.” The boy let out an explosive sigh of relief. “But first, you spawn of Morgoth, tell me – how in Middle-earth did you get into the cart? It's surely too high for you to have climbed the tail-gate or the wheels, even if I hadn't been on the move...”
“Do... do you promise you won't tell Papa?”
He considered. “As long as you promise to tell me the truth.”
“It was my idea.” Myrtle elbowed her brother in the ribs as he drew breath to speak. “We knew we couldn't climb up, so instead we ran on ahead here, and climbed into one of the trees along the lane –”
“– and wriggled out as far as we could along the lowest branch, and listened till we heard you coming –”
“– and then when the cart was right underneath us...”
“...we jumped.”
~~~
Author: Azalais
Title: Mischief Aforethought
Genre: Humour
Length: Ficlet
Characters: Gandalf, Moro Baggins, Myrtle Baggins
Rating: G
Warnings: none, except grumpy!Gandalf
Summary: "A rumour was spread about that there were going to be fireworks...."
Mischief Aforethought
The Shire, September 14 3001, Third Age
The driver of the cart hummed to himself contentedly as the horse clopped steadily through the lanes towards Hobbiton; he had made good time, and it was a glorious day. It really was far too long since he had been in the Shire...
“Gandalf! Fireworks, Gandalf?”
He chuckled, shaking his blue-hatted head at the hopeful cries of the hobbit-children who scampered barefoot behind the cart. My reputation, it would seem, still precedes me. “All in good time!” he called over his shoulder, and returned his pipe to his mouth to blow the disappointed imps a series of smoke-rings as he proceeded up the hill.
As he passed up the part of the lane overhung by a tunnel of beech-trees, their leaves just beginning their transition from green to exuberant deep red, he frowned. Was that rustling overhead nothing but a squirrel? And had he just felt a bump at the back of the cart – or was that only the ruts in the lane?
Drawing up before the door of Bag End, he paused. Rather than getting down, he stood up in the cart and turned around, drawing himself up to his full height.
“All right, you rascal Tooks or Bolgers or Bagginses or whatever you are. Out you come!”
A suppressed gasp was followed by a suspicious silence. Gandalf drew a deep breath.
“Do you think I was born yesterday? I have been evicting hobbit-imps who should know better from among my fireworks since the days of your grandfathers! Out!”
Scuffling and whispering. A lad and a lass, tousle-haired and sunburnt-nosed; the lad looked alarmed, the girl defiant.
“And who, pray, are you?”
“M-Moro Baggins and Myrtle Baggins...” the boy stammered... “sir.”
“Do you know what I do to over-inquisitive children who rummage among a wizard's parcels?” he thundered.
“You... you turn them into frogs?”
“I might.” He drew the bushiest eyebrows ever seen in the Shire into his best scowl. “But more usually... I make them unpack.” The boy let out an explosive sigh of relief. “But first, you spawn of Morgoth, tell me – how in Middle-earth did you get into the cart? It's surely too high for you to have climbed the tail-gate or the wheels, even if I hadn't been on the move...”
“Do... do you promise you won't tell Papa?”
He considered. “As long as you promise to tell me the truth.”
“It was my idea.” Myrtle elbowed her brother in the ribs as he drew breath to speak. “We knew we couldn't climb up, so instead we ran on ahead here, and climbed into one of the trees along the lane –”
“– and wriggled out as far as we could along the lowest branch, and listened till we heard you coming –”
“– and then when the cart was right underneath us...”
“...we jumped.”
~~~
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- Erulisse (one L)
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“I might.” He drew the bushiest eyebrows ever seen in the Shire into his best scowl. “But more usually... I make them unpack.”
I love this line - Gandalf playing off his reputation, then getting good work out of the rascals. He and the children have such a lovely relationship here. And I love that it was Myrtle who came up with the plan to get them onto Gandalf's cart. Go Myrtle! Show the boys who has brains!
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I do occasionally spook myself when I get into Gandalf's head. Fortunately, this was just fun.
I love that it was Myrtle who came up with the plan to get them onto Gandalf's cart. Go Myrtle! Show the boys who has brains!
Definitely the brains of this outfit. I poked about in the Appendices last night and came up with a couple of young Bagginses about the right age - Moro is the older by a couple of years, and I immediately saw the pair of them, with her leading her big brother by the nose and refusing to let him take all the blame/credit!
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This was adorable!
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