~By Vanessa Parry (alias: Elwen)
Tithen was an integral part of Rivendell’s healing song. She accepted that. The twolegs fed her and she graced them with her presence, which was apparently all that was required of her. As soon as she saw the injured twoleg she knew she had a duty and adopted him. If she sensed he was worried or sad she would settle against him and if he was happy she would roll and pounce about the flower beds to entertain him.
The other miniature twolegs were not so happy about this new member of their fellowship, however. She could see that the fat one accepted her only because he saw that the injured one needed Tithen. The yellow furred one seemed to consider her a nuisance and Tithen obliged him by taking every opportunity to pounce, causing him to trip upon several occasions. The noisy one, perhaps being the smallest, was more than a little frightened of Tithen’s magnificent ginger furred presence and would not approach her at all. She stored away this observation but did not take advantage of it for a long time. Then it rained.
Tithen was a wise old cat and knew better than to get caught in the rain, but she was accompanying her charge on a walk in the gardens and it seems this twoleg was not so wise. He should have taken the hint when the she kept stepping in front of him and butting her head against his hip. It took several exasperating minutes before she managed to convince him he was going nowhere and managed to herd him back toward the house.
-0-
They were only minutes away when the heavens opened and rain fell so hard that it was like trying to run through a hail of arrows and almost as painful. Tithen disappeared into the house at a speed that belied her bulk. There were limits to care beyond which any cat would not stray and being out in the rain was apparently one of them. By the time Frodo arrived in the hobbits shared sitting room he was soaked through to the skin and, despite her speed, Tithen was little better. Frodo arrived to an ominous silence and he skidded to a halt upon the polished oak floor.
Tithen was in the centre of that floor at the end of a trail of meandering wet kitty paw prints. Frodo looked down at his own wet feet and picked up Tithen’s trail where they lead to the corner. There Merry was pressed into the angle of the wall, holding a footstool, legs outward in an obvious attempt to keep the enormous cat well away from him. Frodo could see cat hairs mingled with Merry’s usually well groomed but now woefully wet foothair and guessed that Tithen had found a way to dry herself off.
Sam was standing off to one side like some petrified garden statue. His breeches and foothair were also wet, up to the level of a large standing cat. The only one dry was Pippin.
Frodo’s cousin was standing in front of a rather elegant couch, his eyes wide and hands held out trembling before him in a warding motion. Tithen stood at bay, dripping on the floor only a few feet from him. Her tail was raised in greeting but Frodo noted the tiniest flick of the tip and knew instantly that Tithen intended mischief. It took only one dainty wet paw step to send Pippin leaping up onto the seat of the couch, with a wild shriek that brought to mind vividly an incident with an illicitly got firework at Bilbo’s party.
Frodo found that he was so caught up in simply watching events that it never occurred to him to take any action. He just stood in his own growing puddle of rainwater. For one more moment Tithen did likewise, seemingly not used to such antics from people. A corner of Frodo’s mind began to giggle, slightly maniacally, at the unlikely image of an elegant elf gathering up flowing robes and leaping onto the couch with such a yelp.
-0-
Had she been dry Tithen would have been highly entertained by the twoleg’s antics. But she was wet and required his services. Tithen blinked slowly at her target but it seemed that the twoleg did not understand her greeting. She could not comprehend this fear for she had done nothing to earn it. She merely wanted to get dry and the twolegs were coated in stuff that would do that. Of course these smaller twolegs did not grow as much of the stuff but they would do for the moment.
It was a simple thing and the twolegs were there to serve her after all. She had used two, and there was only one dry twoleg left. Wet fur was a nuisance she was unused to and had she not been guarding the other she would not be in this position. They owed her. Besides, Tithen was tired of this one behaving so strangely in her presence. Anyone would think she intended to devour it. She had learned long ago that the kitchen provided much better fare. Deciding that she had been cold and wet for far too long Tithen gathered herself and landed effortlessly upon the seat of the couch.
-0-
Pippin’s eyes grew wider and then slammed shut as a huge and rather wet cat slide across his legs, circling him once, twice, three times. Then the torture stopped. He cracked open one eye to find Tithen still upon the couch but now sitting on her haunches, tail wrapped neatly over her feet. Then she opened a pink maw, edged with wicked looking needle sharp white teeth, and emitted a tiny squeak.
She was still wet.
Pippin was now wet.
The finely embroidered cushions on the couch were also getting wet.
As all eyes were fixed on the cat a calm voice ordered, “Off the furniture if you please, Tithen. You know the rule.” Everyone turned to the doorway as Tithen dropped delicately to the floor.
Elrond crossed silently to the couch and held out a towel to Pippin, who accepted it without question. “She does not like to have her fur ruffled when you dry her. Stroke from head to tail.” Then Elrond turned his attention to the rest of the room’s occupants.
“Master Merriadoc. That is a piece of furniture and best used as such. As a defence it is woefully ineffective and I suggest you would be better served by learning the use of sword and shield.”
Merry dropped the footstool as though it were a burning brand, wincing when it landed with a loud clatter.
Elrond raised one brow at him before fixing his keen gaze upon Sam. “Master Samwise. My home is graced with many statues. I do not, at present, need another. Your services are required by your master, who appears to be dripping all over my carefully polished woodwork.” He glanced over his shoulder at Frodo, who still remained caught in the scene. “And you should dry off, Master Ringbearer. I expended a great deal of effort in returning you to health and would appreciate it if you did not now decide to contract a chill.”
With one last pointed glance at Pippin, who still stood upon the couch, Elrond pivoted neatly on his heel and departed in a flow of velvet and silk.
Merry replaced the footstool meekly and Sam ushered his master from the room with the promise of a hot bath and dry clothes.
Fourleg and twoleg regarded each other.