Genre: Filmverse
"I feel like a sparrow amid a splendor of peacocks," Merry grumbled, craning his neck in
a vain attempt to see through the press of bodies around them.
"Make that four sparrows, Merry," Pippin returned, flicking disgustedly at his
nondescript clothing. "Shirtsleeves! They could've found us coats, at least."
"Well, you're the one for fancy clothes, Mr. Merry, and I don't mind for meself, but Mr.
Frodo, now... Sam's brows beetled belligerently. "Why, we'd a been an orc's dinner long
since if it weren't for him. He deserves to be up there with all the important folk, he
does."
"Hush, all of you," Frodo's soft voice carried clearly over the din. "We are simple
hobbits of the Shire, and simple hobbits we will stay. I am perfectly content with what I
wear. It is the King's crowning, after all, and we are only a tiny part of it."
"And who got it for him, I'd like to know?" muttered Sam, undaunted. "You should be up
there, handing him his blasted crown. I'd like to give him a piece of my mind, so I
would."
"Oh, Sam. I didn't do anything special. We all did what we had to do, and, well, you're
my real hero, if you must know." Frodo smiled at his friend gently. "I wouldn't have
gotten back without my Sam."
Sam blushed, and shook his head. "I'm no hero, Mr. Frodo - 'cause if I did somethin', it
weren't for Middle Earth, if you follow me." His brown eyes shone golden in the sun as
he gazed at his master.
"I do, Sam." Frodo smiled lovingly back. "And I treasure that knowledge above all the
honors and fancy silks that you think I should have. Do you follow me?"
"Yes... Mr. Frodo," Sam peered through his lashes bashfully. He caught his breath at
the beauty and goodness that shone from his master's face. He didn't need any
adornment to make him special, that he didn't!
A gust of wind blew a cloud of white petals into their faces, and a ripple stirred the
crowd ahead.
"The King is coming," Merry hissed. "Remember to bow."
"Why?" Pippin objected. "It's only Strider, after all. He won't mind."
"The King of the West to you, Peregrin Took," Frodo admonished. "Don't shame the
Shire, now."
The crowd parted, and the King and his lady Arwen loomed over them, glinting in the
sunlight, magnificent and lofty as the sky. They dropped their eyes and bobbed their
heads in clumsy obeisance, and a soft voice stopped them in mid-bow.
"No, my friends," the King said, and his voice rose, ringing out to carry over the
multitude.
"You bow to no one."
Then He knelt before them; He and his queen-to-be, and all their people with them.
The four hobbits stared about them with open-mouthed wonder - no longer the shy
sparrows of the hedgerow, but beings worthy of a King's homage. Their very simplicity
lent the scene a gravity that no amount of silk and velvet would have conveyed.
Frodo heard the Lady's prophecy again, whispering in the darkness of his mind; Even the
smallest person can change the course of the future... And as he looked upon the
honor paid them, he realized that it had truly come to pass. For Gollum too, had been
the smallest and most wretched of beings, and he had done his part as well.
The weight on his spirit lifted for a moment, lightened by unlooked-for gratitude and the
outpouring of love that they all could feel, and he felt tears of relief start to his eyes.
"Oh my," Sam whispered.
And clearly to their ears came the irrepressible Took's pithy response.
"Well now!" Pippin muttered gleefully. "This is more like it!"
END
