"Your article was really good."
Eowyn lifted her head up from her desk bleary-eyed. "Huh?"
"Your article," Faramir repeated. "It was really good. I read it this morning." In fact, he'd rushed to campus early just so he could pick up a copy of The Palantir. She'd told him yesterday that her story was going to be in the paper, so he'd been eager to read it. And the article was everything he'd hoped it would be: smart, incisive, and moving, just like Eowyn herself.
He'd also read something else in the paper....
"I...uh...I saw that there's a Welcome Dance on Friday," he said tentatively, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Oh, yeah, in the cafeteria," she nodded, yawning. "It's supposed to be pretty lame."
"Oh," Faramir said, clearly disappointed.
"But Merry and I decided to go anyway," Eowyn continued. "He thinks it'll be fun, even if it IS lame."
<<So his name's Merry,>> thought Faramir, remembering the tall man she'd embraced the other day, and he sighed deeply.
Eowyn, who'd been yawning again, turned and asked, "What'd you say?"
"Oh...uh...nothing," he stammered.
<<But look on the bright side,>> he chastised himself for being down. <<At least she's gonna be there. And maybe, if Merry doesn't mind, I can have a dance with her.>>
<<Maybe even a SLOW dance.>>
Faramir blushed at the thought. "So...so I guess I'll see you there."
"See me where?" Eowyn asked, rubbing her eyes blearily.
Faramir shook his head. "Never mind," he said as Eowyn put her head back down on her desk.
"If I fall asleep...." she began sleepily.
"You can borrow my notes," Faramir finished for her, turning his attention back to Professor Elrond.
***
Legolas glanced up from his theory homework as he heard the key turn in the lock.
"We won!" Gimli announced grandly as he threw the door open. "We won!"
"Won what?" Legolas asked.
"Very funny," Gimli said, coming in and dumping his books on the floor. "It's amazing -- they said it was one of the biggest voter turn-outs in MEU history! And we both won by a landslide. I told you my campaign strategy would work."
<<And I'm sure you'll never let me forget it.>> But Legolas forced a smile. "That's great. So who else won?"
"Well," Gimli said, sorting through his pile of dirty laundry for something to wear, "the new sophomore class rep is Frodo Baggins -- he's the nephew of the visiting Lit professor." Gimli smelled the underarm of a t-shirt he'd just pulled from the pile and made a face. "Ugh. And let's see...some sorority elf won for treasurer."
"Arwen?" Legolas assumed.
"Yes, that was her name. Professor Elrond's daughter. It seems nepotism runs rampant in our class, doesn't it?" he joked.
"And what about class president?"
"Oh, that was the weirdest thing. Some frat guy won -- no surprise there -- but I heard that he almost lost to some unknown write-in candidate. It was the closest race in the election. And they've NEVER had a write-in candidate with so many votes."
Legolas shook his head. <<It's a good thing Aragorn didn't win or our class would soon be short a treasurer as well,>> Legolas thought, thinking about Aragorn's temper when he'd found out Arwen's plan. <<But I'm impressed at Arwen's powers of persuasion -- she'll be a powerful ally on the Council. No wonder Aragorn is so smitten.>>
Gimli had finally unearthed a t-shirt that didn't make him grimace and he put it on, saying, "My buds and I are going out to celebrate. You wanna come?"
"Uh...well...."
"C'mon. I'll buy you a beer, or whatever you elf-folk drink. We won, man! We gotta celebrate."
"I actually have other plans," Legolas said, hoping Gimli didn't ask him to elaborate.
"Oh, right, of course you do," Gimli said, pulling his leather motorcycle jacket out from under the dirty clothes. "I should've figured -- it's Friday night. You've got a life." Gimli chuckled as he searched his jean pockets for money. "You're not one of those losers sticking around campus for that lame dance."
Legolas swallowed hard, hoping Gimli didn't see him blush as he returned to his theory homework.
"Well, I probably won't be back till late," Gimli said, opening the door. "Don't wait up," he teased, disappearing into the hallway.
After the dwarf had gone, Legolas put his homework neatly away and then waded through Gimli's dirty clothes to his own closet. Staring into it, he smiled. <<How can it be lame? It's a DANCE!>> And Legolas's eyes glimmered with anticipation as he pulled out his neatly-pressed black turtleneck and hung it from his bunk.
***
<<Where on middle earth could he be?>> Merry wondered, anxiously looking around. They'd agreed just to meet at class, since they both had last-minute errands to run before the weekend, but now it was getting close to two and Pippin was nowhere to be found.
"Hey," Boromir came up stealthily behind Merry, startling him. "Can I sit down here with you guys?"
Merry shrugged. "Sure. If you can FIT," Merry added as Boromir narrowly slid between him and the row of seats in front.
Boromir looked at the small hobbit-sized seat next to Merry and nodded. "I think I'll be fine if I just take off the armrest," he said decisively, dropping his backpack on the chair and pulling a pocketknife out.
Merry smiled. "Someone who doesn't let obstacles get in his way," he teased as Boromir started removing the screws on the armrest. "That's an admirable quality in a class president."
"So..." Boromir asked, trying not to sound too eager, "did you vote?"
"Yep. First thing this morning. And I made sure Pippin voted, too -- he tends to forget those things."
"Politics?"
"Routine tasks," Merry corrected cheerfully. "His head's in the clouds so much, he tends to forget little things like voting. Or coming to class on time. Or breathing."
Boromir laughed. "But he's talented, though."
"That he is." <<In more ways than one!>> Merry thought, smiling evilly as he remembered Wednesday night.
"Where is he, by the way?" Boromir asked, suddenly realizing Pippin wasn't there.
Merry shrugged. "He was supposed to meet me here. Like I said, though, he tends to forget the little things."
Boromir finished unscrewing the armrest and yanked it up along with its attached folding lap desk. "There we go," he said, putting the armrest under the chair and sitting down. "A little snug," he said, shifting side to side in his seat, "but it'll do."
A winded Pippin suddenly ran down the stairs towards them. "I'm here, I'm here!" he announced excitedly, practically throwing himself into the aisle seat next to Merry.
"You're almost late," Merry teased, smiling at how cute Pippin looked when he was flustered. But Merry wasn't distracted for long, and he soon realized that Pippin seemed to be trying to hide something from him in the aisle. "What've you got there?"
"Nothing," Pippin answered a little too quickly, raising Merry's suspicions.
Merry leaned over Pippin's lap, trying to catch a glimpse of what Pippin was holding in his hand. "What is that?" Pippin held the box behind his chair, attempting to keep it out of Merry's sight, but eventually Merry grabbed it and pulled it onto Pippin's lap, exclaiming, "You got a care package!"
"Yes," Pippin said, picking up the box and hugging it to his chest. "And it's MINE."
Merry sniffed the air and his eyes glimmered. "Your mom sent cookies!!!! Quick, open them up -- I want one."
"They're MINE," Pippin whined again.
"Does Pippin's mom make good cookies?" Boromir asked, clearly amused.
"Does she!" Merry exclaimed, turning to the man. "Her Tookhouse cookies are famous throughout the Shire. "Best cookies in Middle Earth," some say. She was even asked to publish her recipe on chocolate chip bags, but she refuses to share it with ANYONE."
Boromir smiled. "They sound wonderful. I wouldn't mind a cookie about now."
Whilst they were talking, Pippin had surreptitiously opened the box, which he still clung to his chest, and was now reading the enclosed letter. Merry leaned over, trying to read it, but Pippin shielded it from him. However, it wasn't hidden before his roommate had read "...uble batch to share with M..." written in Eglantine Took's loopy handwriting.
"Aha!" Merry burst out. "A double batch! You're supposed to share with me! Your mom even says so!"
"But I can't," Pippin whined, clutching the box even tighter. "'Cuz if I do, I won't have enough."
Boromir laughed. "Quite the greedy one, aren't you?"
"I only want a few," Merry said. "Surely one and a half batches will be enough, even for a hobbit like you."
"Not just for me," Pippin said indignantly. "I need to have enough to share with my brothers."
Merry laughed. "Who do you think you're talking to, Pip?! We've been friends our whole lives and I KNOW you don't have any brothers. And I don't think Vinca, Nel, and Pearl would appreciate you calling them boys, either," he teased.
Pippin shook his head. "No, my Eta Pi brothers. I promised them I'd bring over the first batch of the year."
Merry felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. <<He'd rather share his cookies with his Eta Pi "brothers" than with ME?!>> he thought, trying hard to breathe.
But Boromir was busy asking Pippin about his frat.
"Yeah, I'm pledging," Pippin told the man proudly. "Tonight we're having a big party."
Boromir nodded. "First one of the year, huh? I'm kinda jealous -- Eta Pi parties are supposed to have the best food. Our parties are only known for their ale."
"Oh, you're a Mu Epsilon Nu, aren't you?" Pippin asked. "Aren't you guys having a Little Sister Rush party tonight?"
Pippin and Boromir continued to speak Frat, but Merry didn't hear a word of it -- he was too busy stressing out. It wasn't only that he wasn't going to get any cookies, although he did long for one, especially now that the smell was wafting through the lecture hall and making even the elves jealous. But what upset him the most was that Pippin had chosen the Eta Pis over HIM.
<<He insists that he's not "trading up" by joining this frat,>> Merry thought dishearteningly, <<but clearly he'd rather disappoint me, who he's been friends with forever, than his new "brothers" that he's known for less than a week.>>
<<And if he picks them over me for something as minor as cookies, what will he pick when they decide that his "lifestyle" is inappropriate and give him an ultimatum? If it's them or me, what will be his choice?>>
"Comic strips!" Pippin said excitedly. The frat conversation with Boromir was apparently over because Pippin was now sorting through his box, pulling out the other items one by one. "An article on Shiremouth. Socks -- Grandma must've knit them for me. Ooh, and look, Merry," he said, pulling out a jar of homemade preserves, "gooseberry! Your favourite!"
But Merry only nodded. <<What good are gooseberries when I'm losing Pip?>>
"Master Took," Professor Gandalf announced grandly as he entered the room, "I do hope you took your shower BEFORE class today."
Pippin turned red with embarrassment as the entire class laughed at his expense. Not knowing what else to do, he resorted to the only thing he could think of.
"Cookie?" he offered, tentatively holding one out for the wizard.
***
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