I have made a *terrible* mistake.
And it has nothing to do with the post-in-progress about some shit that went down in July. By the way, I'm waiting on that apology over being told that the representation of minorities (like me) in media doesn't matter as much as a white person's hurt feelings. Yeah, I'm still pissed off.
I don't know about you but me? The first time I watched The Hobbit Part 1 I was... underwhelmed? Confused? I think I was more overwhelmed by the Star Trek Into Darkness 9-minute preview (AND LOOK AT ALL THE THINGS I HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THAT MOVIE BECAUSE WOW WAS THAT MOVIE SUCH A FUCKING DISAPPOINTMENT AND A BLACK MARK IN THE LONG GLORIOUS CEREBRAL HISTORY OF STAR TREK THE FRANCHISE GOD FUCK YOU JJ ASSBRAMS AND FUCK YOU YOU TRIO OF TERRIBLE WRITERS GO AHEAD AND RUIN THE POTENTIAL OF THE FIRST REBOOT MOVIE WHY DON'T YOU anyway) but sometime in July I started craving a rewatch of The Hobbit Part 1. Proceeded to watch it like six times on my laptop the next two weeks. At some point I caved and my middle/high school self watched in abject horror as I then proceeded to eat through all the (complete) Thilbo fics I could get my hands on.
And then I read some questionable fics and whined about the lack of quality listed under a rarepair tag and a friend "suggested" I write a fic to rectify that.
AND THEN I decided to have fun casting Pacific Rim people in a high school AU. Now I'm writing fics for Tron, Star Trek, Tolkien, and Pacific Rim.
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!!??!?!?!?
P.S. Let me demonstrate to you my absurd love of writing AUs by posting some things from the Tolkienfic college AU.
ROOMMATES WANTED FOR A YEAR. We live in a two-bedroom apartment and need one or two people to take the other room for one year. Apartment is down the street from a Grey Ship stop and around the block from Brandywine Village Square. Room has walk-in closet; bathroom is just down the hall. Laundromat is on the ground floor. Have two reserved parking spaces and we're using only one of them. Rent is $$$ per month.
Preference for people who can keep reasonable hours, are serious about their studies, and clean up after themselves.
If interested contact either Frodo Baggins at (##) ####-#### or f.baggins###@eriador.edu, or Samwise Gamgee at (##) ####-#### or samwise.g###@eriador.edu.
* * *
Unknown: hi saw ur ad on the student network. r we 2 late?
frodo: No, ur the first. We?
Unknown: brother n i r looking 4 housing. saw ur ad. fit most of ur criteria.
frodo: R you both students @ EU?
Unknown: i am. brother isn't. that ok?
frodo: Need to talk with my roommate. Can I txt you back @ this number?
Unknown: y
* * *
"Any luck?" Frodo asks during a break between their summer classes.
"Nope," Sam replies around a mouthful of sandwich. "Inbox is empty and my phone's been silent besides my gaffer's morning text and yours. Someone ask about our ad?"
"Yeah," Frodo says and holds his phone out. "Person who texted is a student here but their brother isn't. Are you okay with that?"
"I'm more worried about the person doing the texting," Sam says. "Look at that spelling! How old is this person, five?"
"You can't judge a person by how they text," Frodo replies mildly. "Language is always evolving; remember what I said about the limits to texting and how that forced us to find more efficient-"
"Okay, okay, I get it. Not gonna have you lecture me on the evolution of language again."
Frodo smiles and elbows his best friend. "And the ad's been up for weeks. I don't think we have a choice."
Sam sighs and hands back Frodo's phone before attacking the rest of his lunch with gusto. Frodo waits until he's munching on an apple before saying, "Might as well meet them."
"I suppose," Sam says reluctantly. "But if they're moving in with us they're texting me using proper grammar and spelling."
* * *
They had a plan when they decided on off-campus housing their sophomore year. Their friend Aragorn was a year ahead of them and needed two more people to fill in for an apartment he found. They assumed that Aragorn and his roommate Tom Bombadil would stick around until they graduate; by then, Frodo's cousins Merry and Pippin will be available to replace them and all will be well.
Instead Frodo and Sam are looking for one-year roommates because Tom decided to graduate a year early - "And good riddance!" Sam said with feeling after Tom declared his intentions, because while Tom did pay his part of the rent and clean up after himself, he was loud and liked to make a right old mess in the living room before sweeping it all down the trash chute - and Aragorn decided to move in with his girlfriend Arwen, a grad student and Frodo's onetime TA. Frodo couldn't hold it against Aragorn when he confessed to making their lives a little more difficult, because he's never seen anyone as pathetically lovestruck as dear old Strider.
"I'll pay my part of the rent over the summer," Aragorn had said. "You should probably put adverts on the Student Network right now, a sublet to replace Tom over the summer and one or two people to take the other room for the year."
So Frodo and Sam wrote up two adverts and posted them on the Eriador Student Network, which can only be accessed by students at Eriador University. Far too many people were interested in subletting and no one wanted to room with them for the upcoming school year.
"As long as they're nothing like the Gollum fellow, I'll be fine," Sam mutters a few hours before their potential new roommates are due to arrive.
Frodo has to admit that Sam is right. As much as he doesn't like to speak ill of people, he looks forward to the day their sublettor finally moves out of the other room. Gollum is quiet and keeps to himself but they almost never see him except at night and that's only when he crawls out of the other room to find a snack in the fridge. Plus, he's always coughing, this wretched wet sound that Gollum swears is due to his delicate lungs and Sam thinks is a sign of some kind of contagious disease or illicit drug use.
"They'll be fine," Frodo says, patting Sam on the shoulder. "Just you wait."
* * *
They do expect two people at their door. They do not expect said people to be carrying inflated rubber sheep under their arms, with more piled up behind them.
"Uh," Sam says eloquently.
"Fili Durinson-" the blond one says.
"And Kili Durinson-" the dark-haired one says.
"At your service," they say in perfect unison, complete with sweeping bows. The sheep squeak in protest.
"For you," Fili says, holding a rubber sheep out to Sam.
"And for you," Kili says, handing Frodo one and throwing in a wink for good measure.
Mr. Proudfoot, stepping out of his apartment down the hall for an illegal smoke, stops and stares at them and the flock of rubber sheep, fumbles with his pipe, and hurries back inside.
Frodo finally finds his tongue and blurts out, "Why do you have them?"
"Found them at a novelty shop while exploring the town," Kili says cheekily.
"Aren't they lovely?" Fili says while scooping up another one. "Bought a pack of washable markers, too. For beards, mustaches, lipstick, eyeliner...."
"Well, I, uh...." Where are his manners? "Come in, please. And, uh, bring the sheep with you. Beorn hates people leaving a mess in his halls."
Frodo ends up holding the door while Sam helps Fili and Kili herd the impromptu flock of inflatable sheep inside. The sheep pile up next to the door. The brothers straighten up and look at Frodo and Sam expectantly. Frodo then remembers that they hadn't introduced themselves.
"I'm Frodo," he says.
"And I'm Samwise, but most people call me Sam," Sam says. "Want anything to drink?"
"Beer if you have it," Fili says while Kili rubs his sneakers against the rug underfoot, tracking drying mud.
Sam catches himself. He narrows his eyes at Fili. "How do you know we have beer?"
"You're college students. Of course you have beer," Fili replies dryly. "Don't worry; my lips are sealed."
He mimics zipping his lips shut and steps onto the carpet while still wearing his boots. Frodo winces.
"No, no, no!" Sam gestures wildly at Fili, left hand wielding the rubber sheep, and forces him back onto the foyer's linoleum floor. He jabs a finger at Fili's feet. "Shoes off! You'll not be tracking mud on the carpet. Anyone that forgets gets vacuuming duty for a week!"
Startled, Fili just stares at him with wide eyes before sharing a look with Kili. They then burst out laughing and shuck off their shoes, kicking them to the side where Frodo and Sam neatly lined up theirs.
"Just like Mother," Fili says, patting Sam on the cheek. "If that's one of your rules, we'll abide by it."
"He will; I make no promises," Kili says.
They split up and roam around the living room while Frodo grabs two water bottles from the fridge. Fili pokes and prods at the thriving herb garden Sam keeps by the window closest to the kitchen while Kili studies the bookcase holding two years' worth of textbooks.
"Who's the history nerd?" Kili asks.
"I am," Frodo says. "Majoring in Middle Earth history. Water?"
Kili twists the cap off the water bottle with far too much gusto, and Frodo is painfully reminded of a childhood memory involving a distant uncle - possibly a Brandybuck - and one of the uncle's chickens. He refused to eat chicken for two months, much to his father's exasperation and his mother's amusement.
He almost misses Kili cheerfully saying, "So you like our gift?"
Frodo blinks at him and then realizes he's still clutching the inflatable sheep under his arm. He just barely stops himself from dropping it, Uncle Bilbo's years of lectures on good manners kicking in. One does not treat a gift like a forgettable piece of trash, no matter how cheap or bizarre it is.
"Yes, well," he says, fumbling for the proper way to thank his most-likely-future-roommate, "it's quite... unique."
Kili beams like an overly pleased puppy before bouncing away to join his brother in poking at another one of Sam's miniature gardens.
"What have we gotten ourselves into?" Sam mutters as he joins Frodo, sheep also tucked under his arm.
"I have no idea," Frodo replies, "but they're not as bad as you thought."
"I suppose," Sam says. He still sounds skeptical but Frodo hears a hint of acceptance in his friend's tone. "I suppose it could've been worse. Could've been another Gollum, or Tom Bombadil."
"I agree," Frodo says, "and I do believe the cactus garden needs saving."
He chuckles while Sam runs to the window sill, shouting, "Oi, hands off that one! That's for Rosie's birthday!"
* * *
The words are at the forefront of his mind, on the tip of his tongue, and Bilbo sticks said tip of tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he types what has to be the most ingenious line of dialogue-
His phone rattles on the table and he jerks up. His knee bangs against the table and his cup of coffee tips over. Yelping, Bilbo snatches up his laptop and holds it aloft while a hot black wave of coffee spills over the edge onto his feet.
"Damn and blast!" he hisses while carefully setting his laptop on his chair and rushes off for napkins.
By the time he's done mopping the mess he's forgotten what he was about to write but he clearly remembers that someone had texted him. Muttering darkly, he grabs for his phone and unlocks the screen.
Turns out, another message had popped in while he was cleaning up the table under the watchful eye of Bombur. His fury settles somewhat when he sees it's from his nephew.
frodo: Sam and I got ourselves the most peculiar roommates.
bilbo: Did you now? Tell me over dinner tonight.
bilbo: You ARE coming, aren't you?
frodo: Wouldn't miss it for the world. Sam's coming, too.
bilbo: Of course. Be home by five.
frodo: We will. Heard anything from Gandalf yet?
Bilbo pauses while typing out a reply. That was the other text, wasn't it? He only got a glimpse before zeroing in on his nephew's text like he always does, but it did have Gandalf's nickname on it. He checks his inbox and sure enough, there's a text from Gandalf waiting for him. It's the one that interrupted him in the middle of that now-forgotten train of thought.
meddlesome wizard: good news, they've decided to offer you tenure. you are now an associate professor of children's literature at eriador university.
meddlesome wizard: i hope you haven't fainted, dear friend.
bilbo: I'm texting my nephew before I faint. Also in public; can't afford another public fainting spell.
meddlesome wizard: ah yes, you were the talk of the town for weeks. wait to faint in your own home, then. much better for your dignity.
meddlesome wizard: and do send frodo my greetings. he's overdue for a meeting to discuss his choice of minor.
* * *
"Home", as Bilbo put it in his text to his nephew, is actually a small house he maintains in Imladris for the weekdays and the occasional weekend when he couldn't be bothered to trek back home to Hobbiton and his beloved house on the corner of Bag End.
The Shire is a nearly two-hour drive from Eriador University but most times it is well worth the time spent on the winding freeway. The Shire is an agricultural giant - two-thirds of the produce used in Eriador University's cafeterias ships in from the Shire the night before - and it is the odd Shire house that isn't surrounded by a thriving vegetable or flower garden. Bilbo's home at the corner of Bag End boasts a fine vegetable garden, including a particular strain of prize-winning tomatoes that his mother cultivated while she lived. Bilbo couldn't imagine not carrying on that particular legacy and could often be seen tending to them in the summer, when he's not writing papers or working on his latest novel.
Next door are the Gamgees. Hamfast, Sam's father, calls himself a simple gardner but many in Hobbiton and beyond label him the "earth whisperer"; if a crop failed to thrive or flowers refused to bloom, their fretful cultivator called for Hamfast's green thumb. Hamfast maintains Bilbo's garden whenever he's away, which is most of the academic year, but he always refused money for his efforts - having Bilbo keep an eye on Sam through his years in Eriador University is payment enough.
A well-regarded Shire house is one that offers its guests the fruits of its garden, be it on dishes or within decorative vases. In keeping with that tradition, Bilbo had found a small, two-story home with a backyard overgrown with weeds; he and Frodo spent many an hour hacking them and toiling with the soil to make it arable. Sam brought seeds provided by his father and the trio nurtured along a small vegetable garden that Bilbo maintains to this day. Earlier in the year, Sam presented him with flower seed packets and now the vegetable garden boasts a border bursting with color and a heavenly scent that reminds Bilbo of the Shire.
The dinner he is putting together by the time Sam's brown minivan pulls up on the driveway includes squash, tomatoes, corn, and zucchini from the garden.
"We're home, Uncle!" Frodo shouts as he and Sam bang around the foyer, kicking off shoes and sandals and dropping satchels.
"In the kitchen! If you wanna help, go wash your hands."
Bilbo bites back questions when Frodo and Sam procure a bottle of red wine from one of the more venerable Took-owned vineyards in the Shire to toast his new tenureship. College students, he thinks, as well as, Ought to talk to Strider about buying booze for underaged people.
"So," Frodo says midway through dinner, "how does it feel being EU's newest professor?"
"I was writing a particularly good line of dialogue when Gandalf so rudely interrupted me with the news," Bilbo grumbles. "It still hasn't hit me yet. Maybe when I go to campus tomorrow for a meeting with the rest of the faculty. I'll have to bring my smelling salts just in case."
Sam stifles a giggle.
Dessert is a fruit compote on ice cream and another glass of red. Bilbo chews thoughtfully on a slice of sticky sweet peach before looking at his nephew and his neighbor's son. "So, you finally found roommates?"
"Finally," Frodo says emphatically. "I thought we'd have to move out of the apartment and back here with you."
"Goodness," Bilbo says, shuddering at the thought. While Frodo and Sam are generally quieter than others of their generation they can and will create their own chaos, something that Bilbo does not need. This house is his home away from home, his sanctuary. This is where he can write and correct papers in peace. And "this" requires solitude to work. "I hope they're not anything like that... Gollum fellow."
"Most certainly not," Sam confirms. "I can't wait for him to leave-"
"Be nice, Sam," Frodo says. "Be grateful he offered to sublet for the entire summer instead of just one summer session. And he doesn't make too much noise or too big a mess."
"I know, I know," Sam says, pushing cherries across his plate. "He just... gives me the heebie-jeebies, you know? Reminds me of them."
Bilbo pauses with the wine glass at his lips, wine lapping at his upper lip. His eyes flick to his nephew's but Frodo takes the implication in stride, just shrugs and says, "Well, he did what he said he would and he'll be moving out in a week. So stop worrying, Sam. Think about our new roommates."
Sam groans and covers his face with his hands. Bilbo raises an eyebrow at Frodo, silently asking for an explanation.
"We met for the first time earlier today," Frodo explains. "They gave us a gift, were mostly well-behaved, and-"
"Inflatable rubber sheep!" Sam moans loudly. "Why?"
"Come again?" Bilbo says.
Frodo fishes out his phone and shows Bilbo a photograph of what is definitely an inflatable rubber sheep with an impressive handlebar mustache scribbled over its face. In the background Bilbo makes out a pile of rubber sheep next to the door.
"So you'll be living with pranksters," Bilbo says. "I thought you had enough of them after that Bombabil business?"
"Well they're... different," Frodo says, looking thoughtful. "The one who responded to our ad is a transfer student. Came all the way from Ered Luin, if you can believe it."
"Really? I wonder why."
"He said something about the archery team," Frodo says. "EU does have one of the best archery teams."
"Better than Greenwood, that's for sure," Sam adds for good measure.
Bilbo resists rolling his eyes. Trust these two to not care about the more popular sports teams the university boasts. "So who's the other roommate?"
"His older brother. They're awfully close, you know. When Kili transferred to EU, Fili up and followed him-"
Bilbo chokes on a mouthful of wine and bangs on his sternum a couple times to clear his throat. Alcohol burns all the way up his nose but he ignores it to stutter out, "W-who?"
He must be hearing things. And if he's not, well. Perhaps it's just coincidence that the people who responded to Frodo's ad are siblings also named Fili and Kili-
They were of similar age to Frodo when you met them, a traitorous voice whispers in the back of his mind. It sounds like his younger self, hopeful and bright.
"Our new roommates, Uncle," Frodo says, looking concerned. "Are you all right?"
"I'm quite fine, thank you," he says. "Wine down my windpipe. Terribly unpleasant. Go on."
"well," Frodo says slowly, and Sam picks up the slack.
"Ten minutes in the apartment and they track mud all over the carpet, touch all of my gardens and pots on the sills, and rearrange the books on the shelves," he huffs. "But they're well-mannered enough and they'll be able to cover half the rent each month without a problem, so I've no complaints."
"Yes, I'm sure you don't," Bilbo says while Frodo laughs and says, "Oh, Sam."
The boys stay for two hours, sprawled all over his living room and eating the rest of his scones while studying for their finals. Bilbo checks his school inbox, decides to deal with the deluge of faculty-related email tomorrow, and tries to finish the latest chapter of his novel. By "tries" he means he sits there for two hours, staring at the text file on his laptop, and fights the temptation to abuse his privileges to look up any and all students with the first name "Kili".
With a heavy sigh, he decides to instead tackle the unfinished syllabus for his fall semester classes.
DON'T JUDGE ME
I don't know about you but me? The first time I watched The Hobbit Part 1 I was... underwhelmed? Confused? I think I was more overwhelmed by the Star Trek Into Darkness 9-minute preview (AND LOOK AT ALL THE THINGS I HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THAT MOVIE BECAUSE WOW WAS THAT MOVIE SUCH A FUCKING DISAPPOINTMENT AND A BLACK MARK IN THE LONG GLORIOUS CEREBRAL HISTORY OF STAR TREK THE FRANCHISE GOD FUCK YOU JJ ASSBRAMS AND FUCK YOU YOU TRIO OF TERRIBLE WRITERS GO AHEAD AND RUIN THE POTENTIAL OF THE FIRST REBOOT MOVIE WHY DON'T YOU anyway) but sometime in July I started craving a rewatch of The Hobbit Part 1. Proceeded to watch it like six times on my laptop the next two weeks. At some point I caved and my middle/high school self watched in abject horror as I then proceeded to eat through all the (complete) Thilbo fics I could get my hands on.
And then I read some questionable fics and whined about the lack of quality listed under a rarepair tag and a friend "suggested" I write a fic to rectify that.
AND THEN I decided to have fun casting Pacific Rim people in a high school AU. Now I'm writing fics for Tron, Star Trek, Tolkien, and Pacific Rim.
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!!??!?!?!?
P.S. Let me demonstrate to you my absurd love of writing AUs by posting some things from the Tolkienfic college AU.
ROOMMATES WANTED FOR A YEAR. We live in a two-bedroom apartment and need one or two people to take the other room for one year. Apartment is down the street from a Grey Ship stop and around the block from Brandywine Village Square. Room has walk-in closet; bathroom is just down the hall. Laundromat is on the ground floor. Have two reserved parking spaces and we're using only one of them. Rent is $$$ per month.
Preference for people who can keep reasonable hours, are serious about their studies, and clean up after themselves.
If interested contact either Frodo Baggins at (##) ####-#### or f.baggins###@eriador.edu, or Samwise Gamgee at (##) ####-#### or samwise.g###@eriador.edu.
* * *
Unknown: hi saw ur ad on the student network. r we 2 late?
frodo: No, ur the first. We?
Unknown: brother n i r looking 4 housing. saw ur ad. fit most of ur criteria.
frodo: R you both students @ EU?
Unknown: i am. brother isn't. that ok?
frodo: Need to talk with my roommate. Can I txt you back @ this number?
Unknown: y
* * *
"Any luck?" Frodo asks during a break between their summer classes.
"Nope," Sam replies around a mouthful of sandwich. "Inbox is empty and my phone's been silent besides my gaffer's morning text and yours. Someone ask about our ad?"
"Yeah," Frodo says and holds his phone out. "Person who texted is a student here but their brother isn't. Are you okay with that?"
"I'm more worried about the person doing the texting," Sam says. "Look at that spelling! How old is this person, five?"
"You can't judge a person by how they text," Frodo replies mildly. "Language is always evolving; remember what I said about the limits to texting and how that forced us to find more efficient-"
"Okay, okay, I get it. Not gonna have you lecture me on the evolution of language again."
Frodo smiles and elbows his best friend. "And the ad's been up for weeks. I don't think we have a choice."
Sam sighs and hands back Frodo's phone before attacking the rest of his lunch with gusto. Frodo waits until he's munching on an apple before saying, "Might as well meet them."
"I suppose," Sam says reluctantly. "But if they're moving in with us they're texting me using proper grammar and spelling."
* * *
They had a plan when they decided on off-campus housing their sophomore year. Their friend Aragorn was a year ahead of them and needed two more people to fill in for an apartment he found. They assumed that Aragorn and his roommate Tom Bombadil would stick around until they graduate; by then, Frodo's cousins Merry and Pippin will be available to replace them and all will be well.
Instead Frodo and Sam are looking for one-year roommates because Tom decided to graduate a year early - "And good riddance!" Sam said with feeling after Tom declared his intentions, because while Tom did pay his part of the rent and clean up after himself, he was loud and liked to make a right old mess in the living room before sweeping it all down the trash chute - and Aragorn decided to move in with his girlfriend Arwen, a grad student and Frodo's onetime TA. Frodo couldn't hold it against Aragorn when he confessed to making their lives a little more difficult, because he's never seen anyone as pathetically lovestruck as dear old Strider.
"I'll pay my part of the rent over the summer," Aragorn had said. "You should probably put adverts on the Student Network right now, a sublet to replace Tom over the summer and one or two people to take the other room for the year."
So Frodo and Sam wrote up two adverts and posted them on the Eriador Student Network, which can only be accessed by students at Eriador University. Far too many people were interested in subletting and no one wanted to room with them for the upcoming school year.
"As long as they're nothing like the Gollum fellow, I'll be fine," Sam mutters a few hours before their potential new roommates are due to arrive.
Frodo has to admit that Sam is right. As much as he doesn't like to speak ill of people, he looks forward to the day their sublettor finally moves out of the other room. Gollum is quiet and keeps to himself but they almost never see him except at night and that's only when he crawls out of the other room to find a snack in the fridge. Plus, he's always coughing, this wretched wet sound that Gollum swears is due to his delicate lungs and Sam thinks is a sign of some kind of contagious disease or illicit drug use.
"They'll be fine," Frodo says, patting Sam on the shoulder. "Just you wait."
* * *
They do expect two people at their door. They do not expect said people to be carrying inflated rubber sheep under their arms, with more piled up behind them.
"Uh," Sam says eloquently.
"Fili Durinson-" the blond one says.
"And Kili Durinson-" the dark-haired one says.
"At your service," they say in perfect unison, complete with sweeping bows. The sheep squeak in protest.
"For you," Fili says, holding a rubber sheep out to Sam.
"And for you," Kili says, handing Frodo one and throwing in a wink for good measure.
Mr. Proudfoot, stepping out of his apartment down the hall for an illegal smoke, stops and stares at them and the flock of rubber sheep, fumbles with his pipe, and hurries back inside.
Frodo finally finds his tongue and blurts out, "Why do you have them?"
"Found them at a novelty shop while exploring the town," Kili says cheekily.
"Aren't they lovely?" Fili says while scooping up another one. "Bought a pack of washable markers, too. For beards, mustaches, lipstick, eyeliner...."
"Well, I, uh...." Where are his manners? "Come in, please. And, uh, bring the sheep with you. Beorn hates people leaving a mess in his halls."
Frodo ends up holding the door while Sam helps Fili and Kili herd the impromptu flock of inflatable sheep inside. The sheep pile up next to the door. The brothers straighten up and look at Frodo and Sam expectantly. Frodo then remembers that they hadn't introduced themselves.
"I'm Frodo," he says.
"And I'm Samwise, but most people call me Sam," Sam says. "Want anything to drink?"
"Beer if you have it," Fili says while Kili rubs his sneakers against the rug underfoot, tracking drying mud.
Sam catches himself. He narrows his eyes at Fili. "How do you know we have beer?"
"You're college students. Of course you have beer," Fili replies dryly. "Don't worry; my lips are sealed."
He mimics zipping his lips shut and steps onto the carpet while still wearing his boots. Frodo winces.
"No, no, no!" Sam gestures wildly at Fili, left hand wielding the rubber sheep, and forces him back onto the foyer's linoleum floor. He jabs a finger at Fili's feet. "Shoes off! You'll not be tracking mud on the carpet. Anyone that forgets gets vacuuming duty for a week!"
Startled, Fili just stares at him with wide eyes before sharing a look with Kili. They then burst out laughing and shuck off their shoes, kicking them to the side where Frodo and Sam neatly lined up theirs.
"Just like Mother," Fili says, patting Sam on the cheek. "If that's one of your rules, we'll abide by it."
"He will; I make no promises," Kili says.
They split up and roam around the living room while Frodo grabs two water bottles from the fridge. Fili pokes and prods at the thriving herb garden Sam keeps by the window closest to the kitchen while Kili studies the bookcase holding two years' worth of textbooks.
"Who's the history nerd?" Kili asks.
"I am," Frodo says. "Majoring in Middle Earth history. Water?"
Kili twists the cap off the water bottle with far too much gusto, and Frodo is painfully reminded of a childhood memory involving a distant uncle - possibly a Brandybuck - and one of the uncle's chickens. He refused to eat chicken for two months, much to his father's exasperation and his mother's amusement.
He almost misses Kili cheerfully saying, "So you like our gift?"
Frodo blinks at him and then realizes he's still clutching the inflatable sheep under his arm. He just barely stops himself from dropping it, Uncle Bilbo's years of lectures on good manners kicking in. One does not treat a gift like a forgettable piece of trash, no matter how cheap or bizarre it is.
"Yes, well," he says, fumbling for the proper way to thank his most-likely-future-roommate, "it's quite... unique."
Kili beams like an overly pleased puppy before bouncing away to join his brother in poking at another one of Sam's miniature gardens.
"What have we gotten ourselves into?" Sam mutters as he joins Frodo, sheep also tucked under his arm.
"I have no idea," Frodo replies, "but they're not as bad as you thought."
"I suppose," Sam says. He still sounds skeptical but Frodo hears a hint of acceptance in his friend's tone. "I suppose it could've been worse. Could've been another Gollum, or Tom Bombadil."
"I agree," Frodo says, "and I do believe the cactus garden needs saving."
He chuckles while Sam runs to the window sill, shouting, "Oi, hands off that one! That's for Rosie's birthday!"
* * *
The words are at the forefront of his mind, on the tip of his tongue, and Bilbo sticks said tip of tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he types what has to be the most ingenious line of dialogue-
His phone rattles on the table and he jerks up. His knee bangs against the table and his cup of coffee tips over. Yelping, Bilbo snatches up his laptop and holds it aloft while a hot black wave of coffee spills over the edge onto his feet.
"Damn and blast!" he hisses while carefully setting his laptop on his chair and rushes off for napkins.
By the time he's done mopping the mess he's forgotten what he was about to write but he clearly remembers that someone had texted him. Muttering darkly, he grabs for his phone and unlocks the screen.
Turns out, another message had popped in while he was cleaning up the table under the watchful eye of Bombur. His fury settles somewhat when he sees it's from his nephew.
frodo: Sam and I got ourselves the most peculiar roommates.
bilbo: Did you now? Tell me over dinner tonight.
bilbo: You ARE coming, aren't you?
frodo: Wouldn't miss it for the world. Sam's coming, too.
bilbo: Of course. Be home by five.
frodo: We will. Heard anything from Gandalf yet?
Bilbo pauses while typing out a reply. That was the other text, wasn't it? He only got a glimpse before zeroing in on his nephew's text like he always does, but it did have Gandalf's nickname on it. He checks his inbox and sure enough, there's a text from Gandalf waiting for him. It's the one that interrupted him in the middle of that now-forgotten train of thought.
meddlesome wizard: good news, they've decided to offer you tenure. you are now an associate professor of children's literature at eriador university.
meddlesome wizard: i hope you haven't fainted, dear friend.
bilbo: I'm texting my nephew before I faint. Also in public; can't afford another public fainting spell.
meddlesome wizard: ah yes, you were the talk of the town for weeks. wait to faint in your own home, then. much better for your dignity.
meddlesome wizard: and do send frodo my greetings. he's overdue for a meeting to discuss his choice of minor.
* * *
"Home", as Bilbo put it in his text to his nephew, is actually a small house he maintains in Imladris for the weekdays and the occasional weekend when he couldn't be bothered to trek back home to Hobbiton and his beloved house on the corner of Bag End.
The Shire is a nearly two-hour drive from Eriador University but most times it is well worth the time spent on the winding freeway. The Shire is an agricultural giant - two-thirds of the produce used in Eriador University's cafeterias ships in from the Shire the night before - and it is the odd Shire house that isn't surrounded by a thriving vegetable or flower garden. Bilbo's home at the corner of Bag End boasts a fine vegetable garden, including a particular strain of prize-winning tomatoes that his mother cultivated while she lived. Bilbo couldn't imagine not carrying on that particular legacy and could often be seen tending to them in the summer, when he's not writing papers or working on his latest novel.
Next door are the Gamgees. Hamfast, Sam's father, calls himself a simple gardner but many in Hobbiton and beyond label him the "earth whisperer"; if a crop failed to thrive or flowers refused to bloom, their fretful cultivator called for Hamfast's green thumb. Hamfast maintains Bilbo's garden whenever he's away, which is most of the academic year, but he always refused money for his efforts - having Bilbo keep an eye on Sam through his years in Eriador University is payment enough.
A well-regarded Shire house is one that offers its guests the fruits of its garden, be it on dishes or within decorative vases. In keeping with that tradition, Bilbo had found a small, two-story home with a backyard overgrown with weeds; he and Frodo spent many an hour hacking them and toiling with the soil to make it arable. Sam brought seeds provided by his father and the trio nurtured along a small vegetable garden that Bilbo maintains to this day. Earlier in the year, Sam presented him with flower seed packets and now the vegetable garden boasts a border bursting with color and a heavenly scent that reminds Bilbo of the Shire.
The dinner he is putting together by the time Sam's brown minivan pulls up on the driveway includes squash, tomatoes, corn, and zucchini from the garden.
"We're home, Uncle!" Frodo shouts as he and Sam bang around the foyer, kicking off shoes and sandals and dropping satchels.
"In the kitchen! If you wanna help, go wash your hands."
Bilbo bites back questions when Frodo and Sam procure a bottle of red wine from one of the more venerable Took-owned vineyards in the Shire to toast his new tenureship. College students, he thinks, as well as, Ought to talk to Strider about buying booze for underaged people.
"So," Frodo says midway through dinner, "how does it feel being EU's newest professor?"
"I was writing a particularly good line of dialogue when Gandalf so rudely interrupted me with the news," Bilbo grumbles. "It still hasn't hit me yet. Maybe when I go to campus tomorrow for a meeting with the rest of the faculty. I'll have to bring my smelling salts just in case."
Sam stifles a giggle.
Dessert is a fruit compote on ice cream and another glass of red. Bilbo chews thoughtfully on a slice of sticky sweet peach before looking at his nephew and his neighbor's son. "So, you finally found roommates?"
"Finally," Frodo says emphatically. "I thought we'd have to move out of the apartment and back here with you."
"Goodness," Bilbo says, shuddering at the thought. While Frodo and Sam are generally quieter than others of their generation they can and will create their own chaos, something that Bilbo does not need. This house is his home away from home, his sanctuary. This is where he can write and correct papers in peace. And "this" requires solitude to work. "I hope they're not anything like that... Gollum fellow."
"Most certainly not," Sam confirms. "I can't wait for him to leave-"
"Be nice, Sam," Frodo says. "Be grateful he offered to sublet for the entire summer instead of just one summer session. And he doesn't make too much noise or too big a mess."
"I know, I know," Sam says, pushing cherries across his plate. "He just... gives me the heebie-jeebies, you know? Reminds me of them."
Bilbo pauses with the wine glass at his lips, wine lapping at his upper lip. His eyes flick to his nephew's but Frodo takes the implication in stride, just shrugs and says, "Well, he did what he said he would and he'll be moving out in a week. So stop worrying, Sam. Think about our new roommates."
Sam groans and covers his face with his hands. Bilbo raises an eyebrow at Frodo, silently asking for an explanation.
"We met for the first time earlier today," Frodo explains. "They gave us a gift, were mostly well-behaved, and-"
"Inflatable rubber sheep!" Sam moans loudly. "Why?"
"Come again?" Bilbo says.
Frodo fishes out his phone and shows Bilbo a photograph of what is definitely an inflatable rubber sheep with an impressive handlebar mustache scribbled over its face. In the background Bilbo makes out a pile of rubber sheep next to the door.
"So you'll be living with pranksters," Bilbo says. "I thought you had enough of them after that Bombabil business?"
"Well they're... different," Frodo says, looking thoughtful. "The one who responded to our ad is a transfer student. Came all the way from Ered Luin, if you can believe it."
"Really? I wonder why."
"He said something about the archery team," Frodo says. "EU does have one of the best archery teams."
"Better than Greenwood, that's for sure," Sam adds for good measure.
Bilbo resists rolling his eyes. Trust these two to not care about the more popular sports teams the university boasts. "So who's the other roommate?"
"His older brother. They're awfully close, you know. When Kili transferred to EU, Fili up and followed him-"
Bilbo chokes on a mouthful of wine and bangs on his sternum a couple times to clear his throat. Alcohol burns all the way up his nose but he ignores it to stutter out, "W-who?"
He must be hearing things. And if he's not, well. Perhaps it's just coincidence that the people who responded to Frodo's ad are siblings also named Fili and Kili-
They were of similar age to Frodo when you met them, a traitorous voice whispers in the back of his mind. It sounds like his younger self, hopeful and bright.
"Our new roommates, Uncle," Frodo says, looking concerned. "Are you all right?"
"I'm quite fine, thank you," he says. "Wine down my windpipe. Terribly unpleasant. Go on."
"well," Frodo says slowly, and Sam picks up the slack.
"Ten minutes in the apartment and they track mud all over the carpet, touch all of my gardens and pots on the sills, and rearrange the books on the shelves," he huffs. "But they're well-mannered enough and they'll be able to cover half the rent each month without a problem, so I've no complaints."
"Yes, I'm sure you don't," Bilbo says while Frodo laughs and says, "Oh, Sam."
The boys stay for two hours, sprawled all over his living room and eating the rest of his scones while studying for their finals. Bilbo checks his school inbox, decides to deal with the deluge of faculty-related email tomorrow, and tries to finish the latest chapter of his novel. By "tries" he means he sits there for two hours, staring at the text file on his laptop, and fights the temptation to abuse his privileges to look up any and all students with the first name "Kili".
With a heavy sigh, he decides to instead tackle the unfinished syllabus for his fall semester classes.
DON'T JUDGE ME