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18 April 2011 @ 04:03 am
Fic: ‘Carrots, two Hobbits & a chicken.’  
Title: Carrots, two Hobbits & a chicken.
Fandom: Middle-earth: movie-verse.
Rating: (G)
Time Period: Prior to events in the Lord of the Rings
Summary: Merry had said nothing about chickens!

Author's Note: This is quick ‘n’ dirty (for definition see the F. A. Q.).

The elements of an idea came to mind: a chicken. Merry and Pippin. Puddles. I have no idea where these elements came from but they seemed like fun!

Then it all swirled into a story and this is the result! It was written purely for laughs.

All characters contained herein are the intellectual property of JRR Tolkien, the Tolkien Estate and the Tolkien Trust & Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh & Philippa Boyens (their interpretations); I am not affiliated with nor endorsed by them.


Pippin peered around a haystack.

“What do you see?” Merry hissed.

Pippin peered more closely into the distance. “Nothing!” He whispered back.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be chased by that dog again!”

Pippin rolled his eyes and looked over his shoulder at his cousin. “I told you there’s nothing!”

Merry studied his younger cousin through narrow eyes, clearly remembering the incident with the dog, and pulled him back while leaning around the haystack, which didn’t rustle at all with the movement; either the two young Hobbits were very practised at being stealthy or it was a very well-behaved haystack. He looked first left, then right and down the middle. “There’s nothing,” he announced calmly, satisfied.

Pippin shook his head and stepped around the haystack. Immediately, Merry pulled him to the ground. “You idjit! You’ll get seen!”

Pippin wriggled until he was free of Merry’s very strong grip and glared at his cousin. “There’s corn in the way!”

Merry lunged and grabbed Pippin’s ankle, pulling. Pippin landed back on the ground with a breathless ompf! and wiggled free again. “We’re too close to the hole not to be seen!”

Pippin paused thoughtfully and nodded slightly. Merry released a slow breath and nodded for him to move forward, slowly. Pippin crawled slowly on his stomach; Merry did the same. Soon, the haystack was left behind and chickens were soon in the way. Merry raised an eyebrow at them. Pippin looked back at his cousin in alarm; how were they meant to be unseen if there were chickens in the way?

“I thought you said there was nothing!”

“I didn’t see chickens!”

“The trouble, Pip, is that you don’t look!”

“I do look! You don’t listen!”

Neither noticed the chicken which had drifted away from its fellows, intrigued by the conversation between the muddy, grassy two. After all, mud didn’t talk in its experience.

Merry sighed and pushed Pippin. Pippin pushed back.

That way, Pip!” Merry pointed across the road. Understanding dawned in Pippin’s eyes and he nodded, rising to a crouch before he darted across the road to the other field where the carrots could be found. Merry followed.

So did the chicken.

Stealthily, they slipped through the crop in the field, staying as low as they could.

So did the chicken.

Now, while the two of them were sneaking toward carrots, Farmer Maggot had returned from the fields. The dogs barked, having caught a strange scent. Suspicious, he counted the chickens; he had to deliver them the next day.

One. Two. Three. Fo—

Immediately, he grabbed his scythe and studied the muddy ground by the chickens. Unfortunately for the young Hobbits, they’d left footprints. Fortunately for the young Hobbits, they weren’t clear, giving no clear indication from which way they had come and which way they had gone.

Unfortunately for the young Hobbits, the chicken had.

In the meantime, they’d found the carrots and were stuffing their waistcoats and pockets when Pippin turned and saw ...

He nudged Merry, who was mid-hiding a particularly thick carrot in his belt. Merry glared then followed where his cousin was looking. His eyes widened.

“There’s only one thing for it, Pip,” he decided aloud.

“What’s that, Merry?” He hadn’t moved his gaze away from the chicken.


“Got y’now!”

Both saw the scythe in the air. Both ran at the same time. The chicken squawked at the sudden movement and bolted.

After them.

The road, Merry guessed, was the easiest way out of this and, abruptly, he changed direction.

Toward the scythe.

Pippin gulped and followed.

The chicken followed Pippin.

It wasn’t long until the road was seen but the scythe had changed direction.

After them.

It wasn’t until Merry’s foot sank into mud that he realised the problem with this particular escape. Water sloshed around his ankle.

“Leave me, Pip!” He wriggled; his foot was firmly stuck. “No use the two of us getting caught!”

Pippin, not realising that Merry was stuck, ran, full speed, into his cousin and fell very promptly onto his bottom. The chicken ran into Pippin.

The farmer’s shouts were heard and the scythe seen.

Pippin stood, quickly saw what was happening and pulled on Merry’s arm. When that didn’t work, he tried again.

It didn’t work. Again.

Quickly, he glanced behind him to see how close the scythe was and jogged back a few paces. With his tongue sticking from the corner of his mouth, in what Merry recognised as a determined expression, he ran at his cousin. At high, which was as fast as he could manage in a few paces, speed, he ran into his cousin. With a loud squerlch!, Merry’s foot popped free of the puddle just as the pair of them fell into the mud.

Merry looked at the road. “We can’t get away this way!”

Pippin looked back. “We can’t go that way!”

The chicken squawked.

“Shh!” Pippin muttered at the chicken. Then he saw the mud at the edge of the field. He looked down. He nudged Merry. “Quick!” He pulled his cousin behind him as he dove into the field at the side of the road and fell to the ground. Merry frowned but dived into the mud. Both froze and held their breath.

The chicken stood alone in the middle of the road.

The scythe, and Farmer Maggot, arrived just as they landed in the mud. He frowned at the chicken standing alone. Narrowing his eyes, he scanned his surrounds.

No thieves.

“If that don’t beat all,” he muttered and picked up the chicken, tucking it under his arm. It squawked indignantly.

The two in the mud didn’t breathe until Farmer Maggot was out of sight. Only then did they stand and step onto the road.

Merry shoved Pippin. “You saw nothing?”

Through the mud, Pippin glared. “You said nothing about chickens!”
Armchair DM: Igor: Joy! Joy! Joy! Joy!armchairdm on April 18th, 2011 01:23 am (UTC)
Oh this is simply beautiful! From the well-behaved haystack to the imitating chicken this is gold from beginning to end.
F. J.: Lantern & Candles: Warmmorethanacandle on April 18th, 2011 09:46 am (UTC)
Thank you! I had a lot of fun writing this!
Georginabasserandstuff on April 18th, 2011 05:11 am (UTC)
Tehe, I love their bickering. :3 And the chicken was adorable! <3
F. J.: Lanterns: Warmmorethanacandle on April 18th, 2011 09:47 am (UTC)
I'm very glad it wasn't just funny, and the chicken adorable, only to me!