Title:  Hobbit Holiday Hop 
Author: Kathryn Ramage 
Email:  kramage@erols.com 
Code:   Frodo/Sam, Merry/Pippin 
Rated:  PG 
Summary: The hobbits slip away from the mid-winter festival at 
Rivendell for a private party of their own. 
 
Disclaimer: The characters and overall storyline are not mine. 
They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate, and I'm just playing with 
them to entertain myself and anyone else who likes this kind of 
thing. 
 
!~|*|~! 
 
Sam leaned close to murmur near Frodo's ear, "This 'endari' festival, or whatever the Elves call it, 
might be at the same time of year as Yule, but it's not at all the same." 
 
Frodo had to agree. 
 
After Elrond's Council had decided what to do with the Ring, the newly-formed fellowship tarried for 
a time at Rivendell, waiting for reports from the scouts who had been sent out to observe the lands 
beyond the Misty Mountains before they chose the safest path for their journey and set out upon the 
quest.  Since mid-winter passed during this time, the hobbits and other guests of the half-Elven lord 
were invited to participate in the traditional festival. 
 
Like the Shire calendar, the Elven year had extra days between the end of the old year and the 
beginning of the new, belonging to no month, that were set aside for celebration--but while the 
Shire Yule had two days, the Elven Endari had three.  The hobbits' Yule, like all their holidays, was 
primarily an excuse for a party and great feast.  The Endari festival had as much singing and poetry 
as any Yuletide party, and Elrond's tables were generously laden with foods never seen in the 
Shire.  On this first night of Endari, a dance was held in the Great Hall.  Elven lordlings and ladies 
dressed in brightly colored garments had gathered in the open area at the center of the room to whirl 
and turn in an elaborately complex pattern of swift steps; to the amazement of the hobbits, the 
dancers never turned in the wrong direction or bumped into each other.  Aragorn was among them 
with the Lady Arwen, transformed from the dubious Ranger the hobbits had first met in Bree into a 
noble lord himself, suitable for such company, and moving as gracefully with his partner as any Elf. 
 
There was music and merriment all around, but it was not the kind of boisterous fun the hobbits 
were accustomed to have at their own celebrations.  Beautiful as it was to see, it seemed beyond 
them somehow.  They would have felt ridiculous if they'd tried to join in.  Bilbo might be content to 
sit by the fire and watch the dancers with his plate full of delicacies at one hand and a glass of wine 
in the other, but Frodo felt restless.  This period of waiting had also given him time to heal from the 
wound he had received at Weathertop, and he had looked forward to this festival as his last chance 
for laughter and light-heartedness before he left the haven of Rivendell and ventured out into the 
harsh world again.  He didn't want to stand quietly against the wall and watch others have fun; he 
wanted to be a part of the merry-making, not a merely witness to it. 
 
He looked around the room.  "Where did Merry and Pippin go?"  The last time he'd seen them, they 
were at the refreshment tables, chatting with Gimli and looking slightly bored. 
 
"They went outside," Sam told him, and nodded toward the archways at the far end of the hall.  "I 
saw `em slip away awhile ago." 
 
This seemed like a good idea.  Frodo headed for the archways; Sam, as always, followed.  The 
arches opened out onto a terrace, with steps leading down into a garden in the rocky cleft above the 
river.  It had been warm inside the hall but was much cooler out here.  There was a crispness to the 
air.  In the Shire, there would be frost on the ground at this time of year, or even a dusting of snow, 
but this chill was unusual for Rivendell. 
 
Merry and Pippin were dancing on the terrace flagstones.  While they followed the music that came 
from the festival within and mimicked the complex movements of the Elvish dance, there was a 
buoyant bounce to every step and an exaggeration to their movements that plainly declared they 
were playing. 
 
When one of the pair tripped over his own feet, Sam laughed out loud. Merry and Pippin stopped 
and turned to find him, smiling and laughing as well, not embarrassed at being watched. 
 
"We thought we'd have out own party out here," Pippin explained.  "We were getting tired standing 
around inside." 
 
"I can't say as I blame you," said Sam. 
 
"You don't mind if we join in?" asked Frodo. 
 
"Not at all!"  The two bowed low, and each held out a hand; Frodo took them both, and was drawn 
immediately into a circle that began to spin.  This wasn't the courtly quadrille of the Elves, but an old 
country dance, the sort all hobbits learned as small children.  Frodo knew it well, and fell quickly in 
step with his cousins. 
 
While they were spinning, he looked over his shoulder at Sam, who stood shyly nearby. 
 
"Come on, Sam!" he cried, and let go of Merry's hand to fling his own outward; the next time Frodo 
whirled past, Sam reached out to take it and be pulled in.  The musicians within the hall began to 
play a new song, a sprightly, twinkling melody.  As the music went faster, the hobbits spun faster 
with it, laughing as they tried to keep up.  They let go of each other's hands and wrapped their arms 
around the others' backs and shoulders to hang on.  Their feet kicked high, then stomped down with 
the beats of the drum and tambour bells. This was the kind of festivity hobbits enjoyed most.  If 
they'd known the words to the song, they would have shouted them joyfully. 
 
Then, as suddenly as the fast music had started, it stopped.  The spinning circle broke apart, and the 
hobbits fell into two pairs.  As Frodo found himself tumbled up against Sam, a new song began, one 
that was played much slower. 
 
"Will you dance with me, Sam?" he asked breathlessly.  "Just me?" 
 
"Yes," Sam answered, "only... how d'you dance to _this_?" 
 
Frodo didn't know either.  He had never heard music quite like it before: languid harpstrings, the 
cooing trill of a single flute like a lonely dove, and the slow, measured thump of a drum.  It made him 
feel very odd, almost yearning. 
 
He glanced at his cousins, who stood with one arm each about the other, their free hands clasped 
and held out before them, as they moved in a shuffling little step--first forward, then back again, in 
what Frodo soon realized was a very slow version of the more vigorous hobbit 'hop.'  They were still 
laughing, and looked like they were having fun. 
 
Taking Sam's hand in one of his and placing the other on his friend's shoulder, Frodo tried it.  They 
took a few tentative steps together, watching their own feet.  Going forward was easy enough, but 
when they hopped back, Frodo stumbled and would have fallen backwards if Sam hadn't caught 
him about the waist. 
 
His back arched over Sam's arm, and one foot shot into the air.  Sam quickly brought him upright 
again--for an instant, they were nose to nose and gazing into each other's eyes, then Frodo slipped 
an arm around his friend's neck.  He was more breathless now than he'd been when they were 
jumping about.  That drum-beat seemed to match his pounding heart. 
 
He felt so giddy that he had to laugh.  "Shall we try that again?" 
 
As they hopped back a second time, he was aware that Sam's hand lingered in the small of his 
back, brushing lightly, uncertainly, as if Sam wanted to pull him closer but didn't dare. 
 
"It's all right," Frodo told him.  "You can put your arm around me.  I want you to, tonight of all nights." 
 
Hobbits' Yuletide parties were not only for feasting, songs, and dance; they were also an opportunity 
for courtship.  Frodo did not usually take part in these proceedings, but being so far away from 
home--with only his cousins and Sam to remind him of the Shire--and looking toward an uncertain 
future, he thought he'd like to try it this once. 
 
When Sam's arm tightened around him, Frodo rested his chin on Sam's shoulder and shut his 
eyes. 
 
"What's so special about tonight?" Sam asked.  He sounded somewhat out-of-breath himself. 
 
"We don't have many days after this," Frodo explained.  "The scouts are returning, and we'll leave 
Rivendell very soon once the holiday is over.  I want this night to be something to remember.  You 
don't have to come with me, Sam.  I have no choice but to go on this quest, but you needn't place 
yourselves in danger on my account.  You, Merry, and Pip can return safely home." 
 
"Not without you, we won't!" Sam insisted.  "I can't say as for `em-" he inclined his head in the 
direction of the other pair, "but I promised to stick by you--and I mean to, no matter what!  I won't 
leave you, Frodo.  If there's danger, I'll see you come through it all right." 
 
Frodo wondered what Sam thought he could do to protect him that Gandalf or Aragorn or the other 
large and skilled warriors in their new fellowship could not, but his friend sounded so determined 
that Frodo could not help but be touched.  While he did not want those he loved best put in harm's 
way, it was comforting to know that he would not have to go on this quest without them.  He already 
felt a certain reassurance at having Sam hold him like this. 
 
"Very well," he answered softly.  "I won't send you away.  Whatever lies ahead, we'll face it together." 
 They weren't dancing any longer, but standing close against each other, cheek brushing cheek. 
 
He'd thought about kissing Sam since he'd tumbled against him, but didn't know if he was bold 
enough to do it.  Did he dare?  Summoning his nerve, he turned his head and pressed his lips to 
Sam's. 
 
Sam pulled back to regard him with surprise. 
 
"Before we go anywhere, let's have something special," Frodo requested, "just for tonight?" 
 
They stared at each other for a long moment then, without another word, turned and went hand in 
hand down the steps into the garden below to find someplace more private. 
 
A short while later, Gandalf came out onto the terrace.  "Have you seen Frodo?" he asked the two 
remaining hobbits. 
 
"He was out here with us," said Merry, "but he's gone now.  I think he went to his room." 
 
After the wizard departed, Pippin chuckled.  "You didn't tell him where they were." 
 
Merry shook his head.  "I'm sure Frodo and Sam don't want to be interrupted just now.  Why spoil 
their fun?  It's Yuletide.  Everyone should get one wish granted." 
 
Pippin beamed at him, and gave him a kiss.  They went on dancing. 
 
!~|end|~!