(Untitled)

[ringbearing]

Only two days after which Frodo Baggins would have said he felt comfortable navigating the compound and the island country around it, everything changed. The world itself went from lovely and blue and warm to some strange and complex city. The very clothes on his back had changed. To his utter dismay, the streets were now oddly cobbled

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[jack_artful]

"Hullo, then!" Dodger said, an amiable smile on his face, not as wary around full-grown little gentlemen as he was of adults. "Don't mind if I join you, sir, do you?" He had a long stemmed pipe and a small pouch of tobacco out of the same shop, and was keen on smoking it around someone who might not swipe it away with the claim that he was too young.

[ringbearing]

"Aren't you a bit young for pipeweed?" Frodo did indeed ask him, but with no real intent to keep the boy from it. Too often he'd seen children take to a vice all the more readily if they were scolded. Merry and Pippin were certainly examples of it, and not even Gandalf had straightened them out.

"I would welcome company," he finally added. "Yes."

[jack_artful]

Dodger rolled his eyes just ever so slightly, because even fellows from places where there were dragons were trying to keep him from the comforts in life. Still, he wasn't meaning to be untoward. "Not where I'm from, aye? I've been smoking for ye-ars." He spread out the word, gesturing along illustratively with his pipe before lighting it with satisfaction. "Thank you, sir. The name's Jack Dawkins, by the by."

[ringbearing]

"A pleasure to meet you, Jack," Frodo said, supposing that traditions were different everywhere. "I'm Frodo Baggins. I didn't mean to offend, about the pipes. Things are very different where I'm from, it would seem."

If nothing else, his bare feet against the snow show that.

[little_moons]

"Hey, man," I say, collapsing onto the bench beside him. These clothes are so fucking stiff, heavy layers of cotton and wool, that I can't really slouch like I'm used to.

"How's it goin'? Haven't really seen you around."

[ringbearing]

"Yes, I'm afraid I disappear more easily in this city," Frodo said. "I'd quite forgotten how I felt about horses until I found myself sharing a street with them." He smiled, though, taking a puff from his pipe.

"This tobacco is nothing compared to good Shire pipeweed."

[little_moons]

"Yeah? Too bad we don't get any of that lyin' around," I say with a grin, slipping the cigarette case out of my pocket and pulling out a tightly rolled joint from inside.

My own private crop disappeared along with the rest of the garden, but luckily, I found some already cured in an apothecary in the city.

[ringbearing]

"Now, what is that?" Frodo asked, brightening to see that Neil had his own tradition. Perhaps Neil's land was full of fascinating customs like this, or at the very least, new strains of pipeweed.

In the back of his mind, he began to wonder about gardens and growing things.

[formerfratboy]

Nick wasn't quite so sure how he felt about this year's winter. The sudden shift from tropical island to something straight out of history books and movies was a little jarring. And while he knew that Karen certainly appreciated all of the three piece suits and cravats the place kept giving him, he was getting tired of dealing with so many layers and buttons.

Still trying to acclimate himself to living in some weird old-timey city, Nick took to wandering about, getting his bearings. Walking through the park, he spotted Frodo and made his way towards him. It was always nice to catch up with people he'd welcomed to the island, and now was as good of a time as any. "Hey," he said, offering Frodo a little wave, then gesturing at the bench. "Mind if I sit down?"

[ringbearing]

"Of course not," Frodo said, who was dealing far more easily than most with things like waistcoats and buttons and clothing other than the simple cotton garments most island residents pulled on each day. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Nick."

He watched as tiny cloud of smoke very nearly formed into a ring.

[formerfratboy]

Nick sank down onto the bench, grateful for a chance to get off his feet. The stupid boots he'd found sure looked fancy, but they were no substitute for a comfortable pair of sneakers, or even work boots.

"Thanks," he said, fussing with the long coat, which bunched up around him as he sat down. "Good to see you again, too. Looks like you're adjusting to this winter stuff pretty well, yeah? I'm still no good with it." Life in Las Vegas didn't exactly make one well suited for dealing with snow and the bitterly cold temperatures of winter.

Nick looked up at the smoke ring and smiled. "Very impressive," he said, gesturing at the tiny little cloud.

[ringbearing]

"I had an excellent teacher," Frodo said, even smiling a little bit. "Though I always thought that being a wizard was cheating somewhat. As for the winter, we had winter in the Shire, though our streets did not have these strange little stones."

He watched the way Nick fidgeted with his clothes.

"What is it like, where you're from?"

[ringwinner]

In all honesty, the presence of the other hobbit was both a blessing and a trial to Bilbo. On the one hand he now had another one of his own kind to simply be a hobbit with, something he had not experienced since he had left his home, but at the same time Frodo's very existence was a puzzlement. In the end, Bilbo simply continued on being his normal self, hoping that eventually all would turn out for the best.

"Hello there, Frodo! I don't suppose I might convince you to lend me some pipeweed? Of course, I usually have my own supply on me, but I seem to have left home without it today. Dreadfully careless of me, I know."

[ringbearing]

"Bilbo," said Frodo, trying to compose himself. It wouldn't do to frighten Bilbo with his strange needs. "I, ah. Oh! I don't have any actual pipeweed, I'm afraid. It's tobacco that I bought at one of the stores, only I didn't buy it because they won't take money."

Though it wasn't as if he had money, either.

Frodo held out the little box. "Here, though."

[ringwinner]

"Thank you very much," Bilbo said, sitting himself down on the bench (but not too close to Frodo, mind, for it was quite a large bench for only two hobbits) and filling his pipe. "It isn't really the same as some good Old Toby, is it?"

After a moment or so of distracted smoke ring blowing, Bilbo looked over at his nephew or cousin, the exact nature of their relation still rather confused him, and attempted to come to the point. "I have been thinking of building a sort of version of home here. Well, not here of course, but when it sets itself back to rights, or as right as it ever can be. And not exactly like Bag End naturally! That wouldn't do at all. My parents had rather grand tastes after all, and it wouldn't suit for just me living in it, except it won't be just me living in it if all goes well, and I am hoping that it does. Though that does rather depend on..."

Bilbo paused, realizing that he had made quite a muddle of what he had originally meant to say.

[ringbearing]

Just when Frodo thought he couldn't be any more surprised by the place, Bilbo announced a possible construction project. For him and another-- surely the old bachelor hadn't taken a wife? It seemed the lot of all Baggins to live queerly and alone.

A few moments later, Frodo realized that Bilbo must mean him.

"Oh," he said, pleasantly surprised. "I suppose, well, yes. How do you plan to approach the builders here about it? Have you picked out any land?"

[eldest_king]

Aside from his own brother, the curious little man seated in the park was the first thing Peter had seen since his arrival that could be deemed remotely Narnian. When you're in a very strange place, something even a little bit familiar can be a comfort, and Peter found himself at the bench quite before he knew it.

"I say," he began, his words coming out in white puffs, "I'm sorry if this sounds terribly rude of me, but you wouldn't happen to be some sort of dwarf, would you?"

[ringbearing]

"Goodness no," said Frodo, so surprised at the question that he could not find any other words for a few moments. "I'm no dwarf. They're a very good sort, though. I don't think I could ever be so bold as the dwarves."

Too bold, he thought sadly, remembering Gimli weeping over the tomb of Balin in the depths of Moria. A chill not at all related to the cold air of this city ran down his spine.

[eldest_king]

"Quite so," Peter readily agreed, although he, too, had a pensive moment as his thoughts returned to Nikabrik's betrayal. Bold, yes, but just as given to faults as anyone else. Not every dwarf could be the DLF.

"I've been a bit bold today myself," Peter continued, and took half a step forward so that he could offer the peculiar little man his hand with a contrite expression. "Apologies for coming right out with such a personal question. It's only that I've not seen any dwarfs here at all yet, and they remind me of home. Peter Pevensie, High King of Narnia."