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Caranlondien · 07-18-2006, 11:05 PM

Fog in the Kitchen

"Tea time!" cried Pippin jubilantly, racing through the halls of Bag End. "I've set the table and I made a surprise dish!"

"I hope you haven't been trying to re-create that recipe from the horse-eating-men," said Merry warily. Pippin chuckled uncertainly. The two hobbits set out in the direction of the kitchen. When they got there, they saw Frodo, Sam, and Bilbo looking disapprovingly at a stream of smoke pouring out of the doorway.

"Oops," said Pippin after a few seconds.

"Well, I suppose we'll have to go in and put out whatever's on fire," said Frodo resignedly.

The hobbits entered the kitchen in file, with Frodo leading. Sam was behind him, and after him came Pippin, and then Merry. Last came Bilbo. The kitchen seemed to stretch on endlessly. Suddenly Frodo saw a hopeful sign. On either side ahead a darkness began to loom through the mist; and he guessed that they were at last approaching the hearth, in which Pippin's cooking was presumably in flames.

"Come on! Follow me!" he called back over his shoulder, and he hurried forward. Before he knew it, he had entered the hearth. But now he seemed to be alone. "Sam!" he called. "Pippin! Merry! Come along! Why don't you keep up?"

He backtracked, but soon became lost. "Where are you?" he cried out miserably.

"Here!" said a voice, deep and cold, that seemed to come out of the ground. "I am waiting for you!"

"No!" said Frodo, but he did not run away. He fell to the ground and looked up. A tall dark figure leaned over him. Then a grip stronger and colder than iron seized him. The icy touch froze his bones, and he remembered no more.

------------------------

Frodo awoke with a sense of dread. But when he opened his eyes, he saw no smoke. He looked around, bewildered. He was covered in soot from the hearth, and lying in the kitchen. Bilbo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were sitting quite comfortably around the kitchen table, finishing their tea.

"What happened?" demanded Frodo.

Pippin held out a cup of tea. "Oh, a barrow wight and his family had moved in to our hearth. They mistook all the smoke for fog, you know. Horrible sense of smell, barrow wights have. Anyway, I explained it to Pete--that's his name, you see--and he was quite happy to shove off. Said the place was rather lacking in treasure for his tastes, anyway."

"But," Frodo broke in, "but, he tried to kill me!"

"Old Pete? Never!" cried Pippin. "The sweetest guy, he is. And he has a lovely wife, and two adorable children."

Frodo looked around helplessly at the other hobbits. Merry shrugged. "Pippin's the one that talked to them, the rest of us were out cold." Sam nodded in confirmation, but Bilbo frowned.

"Not enough treasure?" he asked incredulously. "All the treasure I brought back from the Lonely Mountain, the One Ring, Sting, mithril armor, and countless other relics, and it's not enough treasure for him?"

"Some of us," said Pippin haughtily, bits of biscuit flying out of his mouth, "have discerning tastes."

07-18-2006, 11:05 PM	#146
Caranlondien Shade of Carn Dûm Join Date: Mar 2006 Location: Bag-Endless-Fuel Posts: 339	Fog in the Kitchen "Tea time!" cried Pippin jubilantly, racing through the halls of Bag End. "I've set the table and I made a surprise dish!" "I hope you haven't been trying to re-create that recipe from the horse-eating-men," said Merry warily. Pippin chuckled uncertainly. The two hobbits set out in the direction of the kitchen. When they got there, they saw Frodo, Sam, and Bilbo looking disapprovingly at a stream of smoke pouring out of the doorway. "Oops," said Pippin after a few seconds. "Well, I suppose we'll have to go in and put out whatever's on fire," said Frodo resignedly. The hobbits entered the kitchen in file, with Frodo leading. Sam was behind him, and after him came Pippin, and then Merry. Last came Bilbo. The kitchen seemed to stretch on endlessly. Suddenly Frodo saw a hopeful sign. On either side ahead a darkness began to loom through the mist; and he guessed that they were at last approaching the hearth, in which Pippin's cooking was presumably in flames. "Come on! Follow me!" he called back over his shoulder, and he hurried forward. Before he knew it, he had entered the hearth. But now he seemed to be alone. "Sam!" he called. "Pippin! Merry! Come along! Why don't you keep up?" He backtracked, but soon became lost. "Where are you?" he cried out miserably. "Here!" said a voice, deep and cold, that seemed to come out of the ground. "I am waiting for you!" "No!" said Frodo, but he did not run away. He fell to the ground and looked up. A tall dark figure leaned over him. Then a grip stronger and colder than iron seized him. The icy touch froze his bones, and he remembered no more. ------------------------ Frodo awoke with a sense of dread. But when he opened his eyes, he saw no smoke. He looked around, bewildered. He was covered in soot from the hearth, and lying in the kitchen. Bilbo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were sitting quite comfortably around the kitchen table, finishing their tea. "What happened?" demanded Frodo. Pippin held out a cup of tea. "Oh, a barrow wight and his family had moved in to our hearth. They mistook all the smoke for fog, you know. Horrible sense of smell, barrow wights have. Anyway, I explained it to Pete--that's his name, you see--and he was quite happy to shove off. Said the place was rather lacking in treasure for his tastes, anyway." "But," Frodo broke in, "but, he tried to kill me!" "Old Pete? Never!" cried Pippin. "The sweetest guy, he is. And he has a lovely wife, and two adorable children." Frodo looked around helplessly at the other hobbits. Merry shrugged. "Pippin's the one that talked to them, the rest of us were out cold." Sam nodded in confirmation, but Bilbo frowned. "Not enough treasure?" he asked incredulously. "All the treasure I brought back from the Lonely Mountain, the One Ring, Sting, mithril armor, and countless other relics, and it's not enough treasure for him?" "Some of us," said Pippin haughtily, bits of biscuit flying out of his mouth, "have discerning tastes."