It was a mighty and noisome struggle but Strongwill Bunce had finally mastered the fiddle. He drew the bow across the strings and thrilled to the cry of pure beauty that filled the room. So. He had drums, gitar, pipes and now fiddle under his command and his rates for playing at parties were going to go through the roof. A string broke and smacked him across the face. "Aye, that's what you get for thinking greedy thoughts." he said and rubbed the welt as he leaned over in his comfortable chair and trailed his fingers back and forth across the floor until he found his music case. He opened it and felt through the neatly coiled lengths of catgut until he found the proper string.
The door slammed and he jumped. He listened keenly for an indication of who it might be and was rewarded by a muffled curse from his cousin, Pug. He heard the high-pitched slide of cloth as Pug yanked off his vest and braces and flung them to the floor. Then there was another snarl as Pug stamped into the kitchen to put the kettle on. The dishes rattled and drawers slammed. Will finished restringing his fiddle and plunked at the strings to tune it. It didn't take a genius to know what was upsetting his cousin. "PUG! Shall I play you a LUUUUUVV song?!"
"SHUT UP!" Pug came back into the main room of the hunting hut and another cozy chair creaked in protest as Pug threw himself into it. He sighed. And then he was silent.
Will sighed, too, to show his support. "What's the damage today, cousin?"
"Hrrmmph. Another black eye."
"Your green eye or your brown eye?"
"The green one. Again. I’m getting heartily sick of this. Did you know, Will, that there are three kinds of death threats?"
"No. Tell me about them." Will turned towards the frustrated sound of Pug's voice.
"The first kind I don't mind so much. They come from her friends and relatives, y'know, the people who love her and who don't mind me too much but they still want to get their point across. 'Hurt Elanor and I'll stake you out for the ants to eat.' That sort of thing. Of course, Elanor has about a thousand brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles so it's a long, involved process. Even Sammie showed me he knew the proper way to disembowel an orc or a troll or a Bunce 'should the need arise.'" Will snorted with laughter. "Don't laugh, I was terrified!" Pug's voice went high and Will laughed even harder. "'You just take your sword and sweep it from left to right and jump back 'cause orc guts are nasty!'"
"That family would know, I suppose."
Pug breathed in deep. "More on that later, my fine friend. Now...the second kind of threats came from those who are offended by my...what's a good word? By my cheek, I suppose, in courting someone too high above me."
"Is that what these fights have been about? Oh, please, Elanor's parents are famous, yes, but they come from farming stock, same as you." Will's long fingers plucked out a popular barn-dance tune on his fiddle.
"Thank you, Strongwill, I just had a mental picture of myself being raised wild by a herd of moo-cows. MOO! MOO!" Will chuckled again. He loved his cousin. Pug could wake up missing a leg but would still find a joke in the situation. "But, seriously, if you could see Elanor you'd know what I mean. The way she moves and talks and smiles, she's like a High and Beautiful Lady, a walking jewel, that some of the gentry want badly to grab up and hoard away."
"A fine possession."
Pug scooted his chair close and grabbed Will by the shirt. "YES! Like gold or gems or rare pearls. She is the best of the best and, for some of those inbred jackals, she's the only thing that'll do for their bucktoothed, idiot sons. A One of a Kind Treasure to OWN and brag about..." He shook Will with angry emphasis.
"You're spitting on me."
"Sorry." Pug let go and leaned back. Will wiped off his fiddle with his sleeve and listened to Pug drumming his fingers on the armrest. "It just burns me up. They don't even know her, they don't love her, and they come ganging up on me for stealing what's properly theirs? Oh, no. No. I've thrashed many a Brandybuck over it already and if it weren't for Master Meriadoc's support I would have been drummed out of Buckland by now. 'Ugly Upstart' my arse. And these are the SAME cretins that whisper about her and her family, how wrong they are and how scandalous and, oh, the Little Bastard Sammie and...I've...I just want to strangle them until their heads come popping off and go sailing through the air like wine corks."
Will swept his hand through the air until he found Pug's arm. He followed it up with his hand and squeezed Pug's shoulder. "Elanor and her entire bunch from Bywater don't take to false airs, false pride and false privelege that some of those titled families throw around. Don't waste your energy getting angry at the likes of them. They don’t stand a chance with her and you know it." Will sat back again. "You're not worried that you're not good enough, are you?"
Pug made a rude spitting noise. "No. As long as she doesn't mind my looks then I'm quite sure of myself, thankyouverymuch." Will heard the kettle in the kitchen begin to bubble over. Pug ignored it and it hissed away in the background. "Though why she'd ever...with MY looks, I mean..."
Will cut him off, exasperated. "What's the third kind of death threat?"
"Oh." Pug simply said and became quiet. Will could've sworn that Pug was suddenly afraid. Pug afraid? After all he'd been through? Will waited patiently, intrigued half out of his mind. Pug finally spoke and his voice was low. "The third kind is the worst kind, the very worst. I'm going to have nightmares. You said 'That family would know.' when I mentioned orc guts."
"Yeh?"
"Well, they really do know. They know all about guts and goblins and trolls and..." Pugs voice dipped into a whisper and Will felt goosbumps spring out on his skin. "They know about Evil, cousin. They know all about the things that'll kill your soul."
"I heard the stories of their adventures. Pretty harsh."
"The stories ain't the half of it. You know they don't tell us everything when they tell those things. Listen." Will leaned in close. "So, there I was...I was walking past the giant oak tree in the South field when I felt something behind me. Y'know that feeling you get when you realize a snake or a mad-dog or a...poisonous spider is nearby? Like a sense that something wrong and dangerous is watching you? I felt that. I knew I wasn't alone. I turned around...and there was her Uncle Frodo leaning against the trunk of the tree. I could've sworn he wasn't there before."
It was a hot afternoon but Will felt suddenly cold. He'd never been introduced to the Master of Bag End but he'd been around him and there was something about Mister Baggins' soft voice that reminded him of deep, dark wells that may or may not be empty. "What'd he say?" he whispered to Pug.
Pug leaned in closer. "He said 'Hello.' and I just about screamed." Will felt Pug shudder. "I said 'Hello.' back. He had a handful of plums from the thicket there and bit into one. He ate the whole thing, slow, and I didn't dare move. Then he looks up at me again. Those EYES, Will!" Pug gasped for breath. "And he says 'Elanor is serious about you.' I said I was serious about her, too. And he says 'I should hope so. For your sake.' and walked away." Pug leaned back and began tapping the armrest again.
Will realized that was all and dropped his arm from Pug’s shoulders. He scratched his chin, considering. "Not really much of a threat, Pug, really."
"That’s what makes it so horrible. It wasn't a threat at all. It was a promise. And I've seen echoes of that promise in her Dad and Master Meriadoc and even Master Pippin! They just...they just look at me and smile but their eyes! I can see it in their eyes that they have it in them to do worse than kill me if they have to."
Will honestly didn’t know what to say to this so he just mumbled "Gracious." in an encouraging sort of way but Pug didn’t say any more. His fingers drummed out a rhythm on the armrest and Will picked up his fiddle and followed it. Soon Pug was keeping the beat for a quick, almost marshal, tune of Will’s own invention. Pug Bunce’s War March. Will waited until Pug let out a small snigger of appreciation before he stopped. "You’re forgetting someone very important."
"I am?" Pug asked, wearily. "Who?"
"Her. Elanor the Fair and Bouncy. Is she worth all this trouble?"
Pug’s answer was immediate. "Yes."
"Yes?"
"She’s...Will, I don’t know where to begin. She’s everything."
"Mmmmm..." Will smiled. "Well, then. End of discussion."
"I’m afraid to touch her."
Will stopped smiling. "What?!" He heard Pug give out an embarrassed snort. "That’s pitiful. I thought you were brave?"
"No one’s that brave. I don’t know what to do. I swear they’re going to murder me."
"If her uncles or her dad decide to kill you then you might as well die happy." Pug threw his head back and laughed. "I’m serious! If you’re going to piss yourself in fear you might as well do something to be afraid about."
Pug thought that over for a while. Then he went to the kitchen and took the kettle off the stove. He came back and sat down again. "Hey, Will?"
"Hey, Pug."
"Does it ever get tiresome? Being right all the time?"
"Never. I love it." Will was suddenly dragged into a hug. "Aw, no, no, Pug, save it for Elanor the Wondrous." They broke apart and Pug thumped him affectionately on the shoulder.
"If you could only see her, Will." Pug’s voice was wracked with joy and yearning and Will felt a stab of envy. Not for being unable to see. No. It was simple loneliness. What he wouldn’t give for someone to love, himself. A girl of his own, soft and light and warm. It was an old, familiar desire and he buried it quickly and easily, as always.
Will shrugged and felt around for his dropped bow. He felt Pug press it into his hand. "Thanks. Bring her around, won’t you? I’ll make her some of my special stew."
"I will."
"Why don’t you take her for a walk tonight? It’s almost sunset. And there’s a fulllll moooon." Will’s voice was mischievous and wheedling and Pug laughed again and stood up, almost turning his chair over.
"I will! I’m not afraid, damn it! Let them kill me, I don’t care!"
"GO, THEN! GET HER!" Pug went, slamming the door behind him and Will laughed to himself for a good five minutes. He brought the fiddle to his chin, brought the bow down on the strings with fervor, and a riotous love song burst into existence. He grinned. "Run, Elanor. Thy doom is upon thee." Will played to the empty hut for a long time.
~