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One Wore White

Summary:

"There always is the chance Frodo will settle down, and then where would we be?”

Merry gave an audible snort and muffled a laugh into his pipe. “Given the happenings at the wedding? I should think not very likely, Pippin”

“What happenings at the wedding? There were no happenings that I know of! I believe we did a fine job keeping ourselves in order; it certainly wasn’t something of our doing!” He scoffed with an air of amused indignation.

“No, no, nothing like that. Indeed it was a perfect day for the newlyweds, however many there may be”

Pippin queried his eyebrows in confusion. “Now whatever could you mean by that?”

Merry could barely restrain his laughter, grasping his pipe tightly in a feeble attempt to remain composed. “I am only teasing, of course. I’m sure Sam and Rosie are terribly happy together, so terribly happy...
But you know, when one wears such a thing to a wedding, there is only so many ways it could be interpreted.”

Notes:

I have never posted before and I found this in my notes app from about a year ago, and thought it rude to keep to myself. I regret nothing except not posting it sooner lmao. Enjoy :)

Work Text:

It was a wonderfully pleasant day (as they all seemed to be in the Shire, what after their great misadventure) and sat on a porch just down the road from Bag End, sat Pippin and Merry, sharing a pipe, blowing ring upon ring of smoke into the warm evening air.

“Such a quiet evening it is” remarked Merry, taking another puff of his pipe, “we haven’t seem to have one of those in quite a while.”

Pippin nodded in agreement “Yes, truly! That blasted Sam had us running ‘round for days doing such and so for his wedding. Flowers and ribbons the like of which I’ve never seen! See if I ever agree to be a groomsmen again!” He crossed his leg exaggeratedly and gave off a puff of his pipe through his nose, much as a dragon is want to do when blowing off their own contempt for big, unnecessary ceremony.

“Well, given I’m certainly have no plans for marriage, you ought to be fine on that account.”

“Yes, I suppose that is true.” Pippin affirmed. “Though, there always is the chance Frodo will settle down, and then where would we be?”

At that comment, Merry gave an audible snort and muffled a laugh into his pipe. “Given the happenings at the wedding? I should think not very likely, Pippin”

“What happenings at the wedding? There were no happenings that I know of! I believe we did a fine job keeping ourselves in order; it certainly wasn’t something of our doing!” He scoffed with an air of amused indignation.

“No, no, nothing like that. Indeed it was a perfect day for the newlyweds, however many there may be”

Pippin queried his eyebrows in confusion. “Now whatever could you mean by that?”

Merry could barely restrain his laughter, grasping his pipe tightly in a feeble attempt to remain composed. “I am only teasing, of course. I’m sure Sam and Rosie are terribly happy together, so terribly happy.”

They sat that way together for another minute, a potent silence between the two of them marred with an air of suspicion from Pippin. Be it from his own curiosity or his mischievous Tookish nature, he could not find it within himself to take his cousin’s statement at face value. He debating within himself how best to go about his investigation, but he had not long to wait before Merry spoke once more.

“But you know, when one wears such a thing to a wedding, there is only so many ways it could be interpreted.”

“There you go again!” Pippin turned to Merry, who refused to turn himself out of fear of breaking his poorly kept restraint. “What on earth are you talking about!”

“No, I shan’t say. I’m not a gossip.”

“Like hell you aren’t!”

This of course was a terrible lie on Merry’s part, both in content and execution. Hobbits are near instinctual gossips, and the two of them were certainly hobbits to their very core.

“Fine, fine I will say, but you mustn’t go about spouting off.”

“I swear I won’t. On my honor as a hobbit, I shan’t say a word!”

This of course was another terrible lie on Pippin’s part. Despite his recent and most honorable undertakings, Pippin’s inability to not to run around with a rumor as if he were a town crier left this promise entirely meaningless. This is course was no determent to Merry, as he also lacked that sort of tact, and moreover shared a similar plan to run wild with his newly discerned drama. Merry scooted closer to Pippin and spoke in a lousy attempt at a hushed tone:

“I’m refereeing to how Frodo wore white to their wedding”

“And I wore blue, what about it?”

“You idiot!” Merry cried, smacking the back of Pippin’s head, “Don’t you know what that means?”

“Obviously not, you ass!” Pippin yelped, nursing the growing lump on his crown.

“Pippin, you wear white to a wedding when you’re in love with the groom.”

“Well, that explains why Rosie wore that dress, pretty as it was it got dirty rather quickly, but that doesn’t explain why Frodo would… “

He teetered off in his speech, his pipe left limp in his hand as the realization came to him all at once. “You don’t mean —“

“I do, indeed.” He interrupted, smugly grinning from ear to ear

“No way!” He cried as a similar smirk began to sprout on his face.

“Yes way! After all that time together there up on that blasted mountain, who’s to say what happened between those two! They would be nothing if not bonded by such an ordeal, honestly, I can’t even say I’m that surprised at all that he fell in love like that. “

“Now that you say that, it does make quite a bit of sense.” Pippin took another hit of his pipe, and once more they sat in contemplative silence. After a moment or so, Pippin chimed “ D’ya think Sam knows about it?”

“I’d bet you a week’s worth of Old Toby that the outfit was Sam’s idea.”

“My goodness! Does Rosie know?”

“I’d like to think that she’s got them as a set, like salt and pepper shakers. She may be more keen on Samwise, but even so she’s got to have both of them because it’s simply how they come.”

“I wonder how those two must feel, knowing you talk about them as if they were trinkets at the market.”

“I’m sure they’re far too preoccupied with each other to care much for what I have to say” Merry hummed, blowing a trio of rings into the air.

“Well I’ll be! The great Frodo Baggins, in love with his travel companion!”

“Frodo in love with who?” uttered a third, crotchety voice. Having been eavesdropped upon, Merry and Pippin simultaneously whipped their heads around to see the perpetrator. There along the path hobbled Bilbo Baggins on his evening walk before supper, sporting an unusually large smile and an equally large walking stick.

“Bilbo Baggins, sir,” the two youths shouted in unison with a rather strained smile, “how nice of you to pop by!” A bead of sweat dropped down the back of Merry’s neck, and Pippin fisted his hand into the pocket of his waistcoat with unecescessary force.

“Yes, yes, what a lovely evening it is for a stroll through the Shire. I simply had to take advantage of it. What’s this I hear about my dear nephew being in love?”

“Oh nothing sir, just merely speculation and nonsense.” said Merry, anxiously waving his hand.

“Speculation and nonsense! Nothing about any traveling companion, certainly not!” Pippin chimed in, earning himself a ‘you blubbering idiot!’ and another smack to the back of the head, courtesy of his mortified cousin.

“Hmm, speculation and nonsense, I’m sure.” Bilbo sniggered as the hobbits sitting in front of him turned a shade of red matching the rose bushes nearby. “Well, I really must be going on my way. I’ve been dawdling an awful while. I’m sure Frodo is nearly done preparing supper by now.”

“It was a pleasure to see you Mr. Baggins, sir.”

“Yes, lovely to see you both. I’m glad to hear he takes after me in some regard still. Farewell!”

“Farewell.’ They returned, and gave each other a sideways glance as Bilbo continued on his way.

 

And as the elder hobbit strolled off back towards Bag End, Pippin turned to his cousin “Now what d’you suppose he meant by that?”