Stories of Arda Home Page
About Us News Resources Login Become a member Help Search
swiss replica watches replica watches uk Replica Rolex DateJust Watches

Reunion in Minas Tirith  by Baggins Babe

Emyn Arnen, August 1429 SR

       "Why do I get the most boring job?" Pippin's voice was plaintive as he sat in the long, low kitchen building in Emyn Arnen, shelling peas into a large bowl.

       Rosie looked over from her place by the ovens. "I don't trust you not to cut your own thumb off, that's why! And we lose too much of the veg with you doing the peeling, so peas are much the safest option."

       "Hmmmmph!" Pippin flounced back to his peas and tried to ignore the stifled snorts of laughter from the others.

       Merry was industriously peeling carrots, Sam prepared runner beans and Frodo had been entrusted with the potatoes. He was concentrating as he peeled, more skilled than he used to be when he first started doing chores and had to learn to do such simple tasks again with a finger missing. He held his head slightly to one side, his tongue curling out of the corner of his mouth. Rosie grinned as she watched him. She knew that he had to stretch his fingers to hold the potatoes, which was good exercise for those stiff tendons.

       Sam had said so much about Rose's cooking that Aragorn asked if she would cook for them, as he was keen to taste the wonderful things he had heard about. The Imladris twins had visited Bag End, as had Legolas and Gimli, and their praises had been added to Sam's. When the King of Gondor went on bended knees and begged, it was very difficult to turn him down and Rosie had laughingly agreed, telling him that he was too impossibly handsome to be denied anything. Arwen had laughed and told Rosie not to flatter him in case he grew too vain. Aragorn was very fond of Rosie and admired the way she looked after Frodo with a fierce affection, bossing him gently and watching him as closely as Sam did. It was very touching to see.

       Rose had decided to cook what she called a proper roast dinner with all the Shire trimmings. Sides of beef with batter puddings, roast potatoes with assorted vegetables and her speciality - a good ale gravy. She had been pleasantly surprised by the ovens in Gondor and Emyn Arnen and had taken over the kitchens for the day with a happy sigh. The kitchen staff were lounging in the sunshine while the hobbits began their preparations.

       Gimli stumped into the kitchen, clad in a simple jerkin, his sleeves rolled up. He was carrying a large barrel of good strong ale which bore the legend "The Prancing Pony, Bree" in ornate letters. He set it down and Pippin gave a small cheer.

       "Goody! Ale!" He went to get up, glanced at Rose and sat down again. "No! Not that confounded tea towel again!" he said. "I suppose I'm not allowed any?"

       "Now who could deny you your ale? I hadn't even thought of flicking your ear, dearest Pippin," said Rosie in mock offended tones. "You've made a pretty good job of those peas so I think you deserve some ale." Pippin whooped with glee and grabbed a tankard.

       A tall figure ducked in, barefoot and clad in simple dark green shirt and breeches. He smiled and turned to Rose, one hand resting on the barrel's spigot.

       "Am I allowed some ale, my dear Rose?" He twinkled mischievously.

       "Of course you are, dear. Just leave enough for me to make the gravy," she replied, and Frodo snorted. She sounded just as she did when one of the children asked for something. He began to laugh at the idea of the King of Gondor as just another demanding child, and Sam paused in his bean slicing to raise a quizzical eyebrow. Frodo could not stop giggling. Not only was Aragorn the King, he was almost a hundred years old, and here was Rosie calling him "dear" as though he were her son.

       "Oh Rose," he finally spluttered. "That's not Frodo-lad you're talking to. You were so in awe of Aragorn when you first arrived and now you're treating him like one of the children! And I do believe he likes it!"

       "I do," murmured Aragorn, filling several tankards and handing them round. "It is quite charming. I never had a sister but I think Rose is what a sister would have been - firm and good at organisation."

       "You mean bossy," said Pip with a smirk.

       "Master Peregrin, I fear you are braver than I," Aragorn said. "I have too much respect for the tea towel to insult Mistress Rose, but you obviously like living dangerously!"

       "He does that," agreed Rose with mock severity. "Are those potatoes finished yet?"

       Frodo stretched. "All done, Rose. And cut to just the right size, I think you'll find."

       "You've certainly earned your ale, pet. Here you are." She handed Frodo a brimming tankard and he took a long swig.

       "My, that's good!

       "Look, Strider has returned," said Pip, as the tall man sat comfortably on a stool and lit his pipe.

       "He has always been here, my dear hobbit. King Elessar only appears when he has to. With my family and dearest friends I will always be Strider. It is the name of my house, after all."

       Faramir, Beregond and Bergil also appeared and Rosie put her hands on her hips and smiled.

       "Typical! You all smelled the ale, didn't you?" She turned to the shelf and indicated two large trays. "Here, you might want to try these while you wait for dinner - tartlets. Those are cheese and these are mushroom."

       Everyone descended on the tartlets, and soon there was only contented munching. Even Lord Celeborn and the twins had grabbed some and were happily eating.

       "These are superb, Rose. Even the finest chefs in Gondor cannot make pastry this good!" Aragorn snaffled another and settled back on the stool. "We should save some for the ladies and children, I suppose...." Arwen, Eowyn and four excited children entered just then and the entire company demolished the rest of the tartlets. It was amusing to see both the future King and the Steward of Gondor covered in pastry crumbs.

       Rose began to mix batter. "There is one other who makes superb pastry - as you'll all discover later."

       "Sam, I'd guess," said Faramir. "We know he can cook."

       "Then you guess wrongly, my lord," Rose replied. "Wait until you've tried the peach and raspberry cobbler and then you may guess who made it!"

       "Mmmmmm! Your cooking is much better than anything I could do," said Eowyn admiringly. The King burst out laughing.

       "Anyone's cooking is better than yours, my dear Eowyn! Even Faramir's! Unless you have greatly improved since I was made to eat some stew on the journey to Helm's Deep?" His eyes crinkled at the corners and he was trying hard not to laugh out loud.

       "Well! Fancy insulting my cooking! Oh dear, I have to admit it was revolting! And you tried to hide the fact - and that you were about to pour it away - just to spare my feelings."

       "It still ended up on the floor about ten minutes later - I should have saved myself the trouble and not eaten it first!" said Aragorn. Eowyn clapped a hand to her mouth in horror.

       "You were sick?! Oh goodness, it's a wonder I wasn't hurled into prison for poisoning the King!" She looked so mortified that everyone began to laugh.

       "I remember you looked green whenever stew was mentioned for some time!" added Legolas. "Gimli and I managed to avoid eating it......."

       "For which I have never forgiven you, you pair of scoundrels!"

       "It's your own fault for being so chivalrous, laddie," chuckled Gimli. "My lady Eowyn's skill lay with the sword, not the cooking pot!"

       "I have improved since then!" Eowyn protested. "But I'll never be as good as Rose. Fortunately for my husband and children I don't have to cook for them, although perhaps I'd have learned to do it properly."

        "Or we would have been poisoned," murmured Faramir to Aragorn in a low undertone.

        "I heard that!" She tried to look offended but Faramir's contrite expression made her laugh and she kissed him on the nose. "I shall punish you later!" she said, wagging an admonitory finger. Her husband did not look too worried; indeed, a huge grin spread across his face and he whispered something in her ear which made her blush. Pippin and Merry chortled at the exchange.

        "Rose's cooking is beyond description," Pippin began. "Steamed puddings now..........." He had a beatific smile on his face. "Jam roly-poly. Blackberry and apple. Light and fluffy suet pudding drenched in pale golden treacle.......mmmmmmmm!"

        Frodo laughed. "You may have noticed that food is something of a spiritual experience for Pip."

        "Should be for everyone, especially hobbits. Do you remember all those dishes last autumn - pumpkin pie, pumkin scones, pumpkin soup, baked pumpkin, pumpkin jelly............?" Pippin tailed off into dreamy silence.

        "As you can probably tell, we had something of an over-abundance of pumpkin," added Frodo drily, and Merry spluttered ale everywhere. Faramir snorted loudly.

        "Really? I'd never have guessed," replied Aragorn, and Merry slid off his stool and rolled on the floor, whooping hysterically.

       "Honestly, Mer, you're such an ass!" said Pippin calmly.

       "Why did you have so much pumpkin?" Faramir enquired when he had ceased choking.

       Frodo laughed. "Sam was cossetting them, as usual, composting, manuring, talking to them - it makes them grow better apparently - but what we didn't realise was that young Fro was doing the same. Blasted things nearly took over the entire garden. It became a case of 'Every visitor gets a free pumpkin!' before we got rid of them all."

       "Do you remember Frodo and the lantern?" Rosie asked, and collapsed in giggles.

       "Lantern?" Aragorn repeated blankly.

       "We were decorating the front of Bag End for Yule and we had some party lanterns." Rosie wiped her eyes. "One of them was orange, and Frodo caught a glimpse of it on the table and muttered 'Oh no, not another bloody pumpkin!' and then wondered why we started laughing."

       "I don't think you can ever have too much pumpkin," said Pippin.

       "Oh come on, Pip. Even you were starting to flag after a while," Merry said, hauling himself up and sitting on his stool.

       "I was not! Well................not really." Pip grinned and drained his mug. "When we go home we shall send you some of Rose's jams and pickles."

       "Well we're growing marrows this year, so if little Fro has been as busy as last year we'll send you several dozen jars of marrow chutney." Sam chuckled. "Couldn't face planting pumpkins this year!"

       "I foresee stuffed marrow on a daily basis until well after Yule," murmured Frodo, grinning.

       "I shall look forward to that," said Aragorn. "Good home-made jam and pickle......mmmmm!"

       "Wonder if you'll still be saying that when you open the hundreth jar of marrow chutney?" Rosie teased.

                                                                             ************

       Sam made punch for after the meal. He mixed wine and fruit juice, together with a little Gondorian brandy, and tasted it carefully. Then he asked Frodo to try it, just to make sure.

       "Perfect, Sam. Mmmm, that is nice." Frodo swatted Pippin away. "You can keep your hands off! That's for after dinner, you sneaky thing!"

       Pippin grinned. "Remember when Lotho drank too much of Bilbo's strong punch that Overlithe Night?" The others snorted.

       "I remember he split his trousers and fell flat on his face in a muddy puddle!" Merry retorted. "I thought Frodo was going to choke, he was laughing so much."

       "It was Uncle Rory shouting, 'I always said that boy had a face like a smacked arse, and there's the proof!' which finished me off. Then Lobelia screamed and rushed to his aid and fell flat on top of him. Bilbo was under the table and Merry was lying on his back with his feet in the air, shrieking."

       Aragorn was laughing. "I remember knocking 'Ro off balance on a muddy riverbank once when I was small, and pushing him into a very shallow stream. That incident provided 'Dan with ammunition for months."

       "Months? He still likes to remind me of it now and then," said Elrohir. "He claims there was a frog on my head when I emerged but that I utterly deny."

       "Not only was there a frog, but there was a large amount of pondweed dangling fetchingly from your ear, my dear brother." Elladan favoured his brother with a charming smile.

       "You two were not always perfect," said Lord Celeborn, to Arwen's great glee. "In fact your Naneth sent you back to your father once because you had behaved so badly."

       "It was his fault!" both of them chorused, each pointing to the other and then frowning as the entire company collapsed in merriment.

       "I reckon you were a naughty little lad," Rose said to Aragorn. "I can see you leading your Mum and Lord Elrond a merry dance, always finding trouble."

       Aragorn nodded. "You're quite right. I was always in mischief, although I never meant to cause trouble. I was very inquisitive and always wanting to know everything." Rose chuckled.

       "We have one very like that at home - well, we have several, but Ellie is the worst. That child never stops asking questions, trying to find how things work. She took an oil lamp apart to see where the light came from."

       "I was always pestering my long-suffering brothers with questions - why is the sky blue, where do the stars come from, what are clouds made of, why are damsons so sour......... I am constantly amazed that they didn't take me into the woods and leave me there!"

       The Twins were very amused by this thought. "You made Rivendell such a cheerful place again - even Ada could never be cross with you for long.. He laughed more during those years than he had since our mother left. We were all Estel's hopeless slaves."

       "Faramir nodded. "I trailed round after my brother, even when I'm sure I was unwanted. He never told me to go away though."

       "I too followed my brothers and made something of a nuisance of myself I fear," murmured Legolas.

       "Surely not. You, a nuisance?" said Gimli mischievously, growling a laugh at the expression on his fair friend's face.

       "I was Frodo's shadow when he came to Hobbiton. I tagged along, whether I was wanted or not," said Sam.

       "Frodo had three little shadows - Pip, Sam and me. We must have driven him to distraction but he never yelled at us or shoved us away."

       Eowyn laughed. "I was forever following my brother and cousin, wanting to join in their war games. I had my own little wooden sword too." This was greeted with shouts of recognition as almost every male in the room admitted to having a wooden sword.

       "I never managed to get one," said Rose. "Sam and my brothers used to insist I had to be captured by a dragon, and they came to rescue me. All those stories of Mr.Bilbo's about Smaug. Poor old Polly Pig had to play the dragon, and she was a silly old thing."

       "You're lucky," said Frodo. "At Brandy Hall and Great Smials, I had to be the dragon, and Merry and Pip used to thwack me!"

       "I always wanted him to breathe fire but he wouldn't." Pippin sighed regretfully. "There are fire-eaters in Minas Tirith, you know. Saw some on our last visit, didn't we, Merry?" His cousin nodded.

       "How do they do that? I've always wondered." Sam looked puzzled.

       "I believe they take a mouthful of oil and then ignite it as they spit it out," replied Aragorn. "Not something to be tried without much practice, I should think."

       "Merry tried rope-walking once, on the washing line at Bag End. Fortunately he had a softish landing when he fell off."

       "I landed on Bilbo, who was having a nap! He chased me round the garden and threatened to send me home to Buckland.. Then he started laughing and said he wished I'd landed on Lobelia!"

       "She would have chased you with her umbrella and if she had caught you you would have known about it!"

       Pippin was prowling the kitchen. "Can I taste anything yet?" He began lifting pot lids.

       "Pippin Took, if you open that oven door and make those puddings go flat I will make you wish you'd never been born!" cried Rose, leaping up.

       "I think a diplomatic retreat is called for, gentlemen! We are surplus to requirements!" said Aragorn. "A good general knows when to make a tactical withdrawal."

       They gathered their tankards and fled.

                                                                             ************

       When the meat was cooked and the batter puddings had risen to the roof of the oven, Rosie made the gravy while Aragorn carved. The hobbits stood around making comments on his carving technique.

       "He's good, isn't he?"

       "It's all that sword practice.

       "Shouldn't someone tell him that's not a proper use for Anduril?"

       "Well Gandalf lit fireworks with the Flame of Arnor!"

       "True! Can the Istari be de-frocked - or de-staffed - for improper use of supernatural aids?"

       "Look at it -The Flame of the West covered in fat and gravy!"

       "Better than Orc blood."

       "Hope he's washed it since!"

       "Oooh! That's not Anduril - it's just a big knife!"

       "It's 'cos we're hobbits - it just looks big enough to be Anduril."

       "It's a bloody big knife! I expect he could fight with that if he had to!"

       "Of course he could - he could probably stop an army of Orcs with a fork and a couple of teaspoons!"

       Aragorn was forced to stop because he was laughing too much to continue. He looked at the four mischievous faces and shook his head. Gandalf was right - everyone should have hobbits in their care. Merry and Pippin were always a team but it was the first time he had seen Frodo and Sam join in to such a degree. Frodo looked very impish, his eyes twinkling.

       "What is it, Aragorn? Didn't you realise I have a sense of humour?"

       "No-one is more delighted to see it than I, my dearest Frodo. I don't believe I shall ever grow tired of hearing you laugh and seeing your face wreathed in smiles. When those letters came, saying you were not expected to live, I felt as though part of my heart had been ripped out." He knelt and hugged the hobbit warmly. "I am more than happy to be the subject of your teasing. And I must confess I've never thought of a teaspoon as an offensive weapon before but I shall consider it in future."

       "If a tea towel can be used as one, I'm sure a teaspoon could also have offensive properties." Frodo returned the hug.

       They sat at the table for an informal hobbit-style meal. Rosie was rather perturbed by the silence as everyone tucked in. She waited anxiously and finally burst out:

        "Well?! Is it that horrible?"

       "My dear Rose, this is superb, incredible! The only reason for our silence is that we're too busy eating to say anything." Aragorn speared a piece of meat on his fork. "I've never tried these batter puddings before but they are wonderful!"

       Eldarion looked up. "Aunt Rose, it's lovely! You are the best cook in the whole of Middle-earth!"

       "Hear, hear!" Young Boromir agreed. "No wonder hobbits like food so much if it all tastes as good as this!"

       Rosie blushed but she felt so happy she was speechless. Sam beamed proudly and then glanced at Frodo, who was tucking in with enthusiasm. He thought he would explode with pride and happiness.

        When everything was gone they all sat back, loosening belts, and waited a while before tackling the peach and raspberry cobbler. It arrived at table, the pastry golden-brown and the smell of the fruit wafting across the kitchen.

       "I can die happy!" said Pippin dramatically. "That looks like perfection to me."

       Large jugs of cream were passed around and everyone dived in, exclaiming as they did so.

       "If you didn't make it, then who did?" asked Aragorn, looking at Rosie. "Not Legolas surely?"

       "Hah!" Gimli almost choked. "Have you ever seen him cook? No, this has to be one of the hobbits."

       Faramir looked at them. "Well Merry is a reasonable cook but he often says he's no good at pastry, Pippin denies any ability at all and you said it wasn't Sam. It must be Frodo."

       Everyone cheered and Frodo stood up and bowed. "Guilty, I admit!" he laughed. "I am a hobbit of many talents."

       "You are indeed. My word, I really will have to visit my Northern Kingdom on a regular basis if the food is anything like this!" The King licked cream off his spoon. "We are all suitably impressed, my dearest friend. Did you learn from Rose?"

       Frodo settled back and told them how his loneliness after the death of his parents led to him spending time in the kitchens at Brandy Hall, but he gave the credit for pies and pastry to Sam's mother, who had shown him how to make such things, endlessly kind and patient with the sad little boy. Sam smiled warmly, remembering his mother's love for Frodo, and draped an arm round his master's shoulders.

       Celeborn smiled to see Frodo so happy. This was as it should be, and Mithrandir and Galadriel would approve completely. The Fellowship continued to thrive.

                                                       ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*





<< Back

Next >>

Leave Review
Home     Search     Chapter List