Title: Of Tricks and Trunks
Author: black velvet band
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Rating: G
Spoilers: None really, hints at early FotR
Disclaimer: Don't owe any of it, wish I did, but I don't.
Summary: Short silly ficlet really. Merry and Pippin's holiday pranks upset their host in Rivendell.
Notes: Hard core lurker here. Please be nice, my stories are usually for my eyes only. This was written for the Sneezefic Halloween-themed challenge bunny #1: write a story using the words/phrases 'trick or treat', 'but he's so pale', 'haunted', 'raining', and 'but I'm afraid of the dark'
Dedication: For Dani my beta, tarotgal and magictoes my inspirers, and for Hermione, who once said she'd always wished for a Pip story.
Feedback: Please send some

Of Tricks and Trunks

It had been raining for days, or so it seemed to the hobbits who were making Rivendell their home for the time being. After the heavy discussions at the counsel most felt that a celebration of sorts was in order. A Ball was scheduled for the night of the thirty-first, and the hobbits had been promised a party of the likes they had never seen. That was how the trouble started. Hobbits, merry creatures that they are, like nothing more than the excitement of a holiday. All Hallow's Eve was a yearly occurrence in the Shire, and to combat the homesickness which had been plaguing them, the two cousins decided pranks were in order. Pranking was a common pastime in the Shire and none were more gifted than Merry and Pippin. All Hallows was, in fact, a favorite time of year for pranks with individuals calling our 'trick or treat' to protect against any unwanted surprises. These words allowed the prankee to decide for themselves whether or not they wished to provide a treat of some kind to the pranksters, thus preventing the prank. So as the thirty-first drew closer, the pair's plans grew more and more elaborate.

Having been assured by Bilbo himself that elves were quite receptive to good-natured fun, the two had spent an enjoyable day, pranking all those around them. Elves, it would seem, for all their outward calm, did enjoy a good laugh, and the cousins readily used this to their advantage. There did, however, appear to be one exception to the good humor of elves: their host, Lord Elrond. Perhaps the weight of the Ring was weighing heavily on his mind, or perhaps worry over his daughter and foster son's future was causing him distress, or perhaps the Elf Lord simply did not appreciate his hair oil being replaced by honey. Whatever the cause, the two hobbits found themselves running for their lives through the corridors of the Last Homely House.

'But he's so pale Merry! How do we know he's angry?' Pip questioned as they darted around yet another corner.

Glancing back at the murderous expression of their pursuer's face, Merry replied, 'Trust me Pip, he's angry.' Spotting a door partially hidden by a hanging plant, he quickly pulled the younger hobbit into the room beyond. Scanning the room quickly, Merry could see that it hadn't been used in some time. Chests lined the back wall, partially concealed by billowy drop cloths. Without lamps lighting it, the room had an eerie, almost haunted feeling.

'Quickly Pip, in here!' he called, ignoring the ensuing cloud of dust as he pulled back one of the great cloths and motioned to the chest beyond. Trusting his older cousin completely, Pippin hurried towards the great chest but paused short of climbing in. 'But I'm afraid of the dark Merry!' he said desperately.

'It'll be all right, I'll be with you,' his cousin assured him, guiding him into the trunk and pulling the lid down behind them. From inside the trunk, Merry could faintly make out his cousin beside him and little else. However, his particular problem was remedied as a beam of light appeared through a crack near Merry's forehead. Peering through the crack, he quickly realized their predicament. Elrond had entered the room and was slowly making his way through it, a glowing lamp held high above his head. Sighing with obvious relief as the elf Lord passed the front of their hiding place, Merry chanced a quick whisper. 'It worked Pip!' Merry's exuberance was cut short, however, when he saw the look on his cousin's face. Pippin's eyes were blinking rapidly and his forehead wrinkling, 'Merry, eh, I-.' Without pause, Merry clapped one hand over Pip's mouth and nose. 'Don't you dare sneeze,' he hissed, altogether too familiar with his cousin's facial expression. Pippin's nose was, to say the least, sensitive. Always the first to get sick and the last to recover, nary a season passed that did not see the hobbit sneezing in some fashion. In spring and summer, the variety of plants and flowers that blossomed in the Shire only exacerbated a nose already sensitive to dust and mold. Of these plants, the worst by far was honeysuckle, and Merry admitted that he had played many a trick at his cousin's expense. Fall and winter were no better, for they saw the young hobbit afflicted by one cold after another.

Pausing to consider some of his past pranks, Merry could not help but wonder if the Valar were in some way punishing him. The elf Lord was continuing his search for the pranksters and Pippin's high-pitched sneezes would no doubt reveal their location. His cousin's nose wrinkled against his hand and his breathing began to noticeably hitch. Groaning inwardly because he now knew Pippin's sneezing was inevitable, Merry made a split second decision he hoped would work out for the best. Shifting positions so that Pip's face was pressed against his jacket, he whispered 'Go ahead Pip,' offering a silent prayer to the Valar whom he had earlier discounted, that the sneezes would not escalate into a full blown fit.

His cousin sighed with relief at Merry's words and rubbed his very itchy nose against the wool of the offered shoulder. Shifting, the younger hobbit inhaled slowly as the tickle he had been fighting rapidly developed into a full-fledged sneeze. 'Heh-CHUFF! CHIEW! eh, heh-CHIFF!' Merry pressed Pippin's face against his chest with each sneeze, his eyes never leaving the elf Lord, who, though further away now, was obviously still perusing the wayward pair. Sparing a glance down at his cousin, Merry watched as Pip sniffled softly and rubbed his nose against his shoulder, still making no effort to return to his original position. Merry sighed. Now this was a problem: much to the amusement of his family and friends, Pippin had always sneezed in fours. More meant he was coming down with something, and less simply meant more were on the way. Pip sniffed again and rubbed a hand across his tear-bright eyes. 'Is he gone?' he whispered, still sounding desperately sneezy. Merry, finally seeing their pursuer turning the corner, and satisfied that the danger had passed, glanced down at his young cousin. Grinning at the pink nose, he replied, 'I think we're good Pip, he's gone. We just need to be quiet a little longer.'

'All right Merry,' Pippin answered, his voice growing airy as his eyes fluttered closed, and his breathing hitched sharply 'HehChEE!' he pressed against his cousin. Merry shook his head 'Bless you, Pip - better now?'

'Much,' Pippin replied, sounding much more sure of himself.

'All right then, let's get out of here.' Peeking once more through the crack, he slowly lifted the lid of their hiding place.