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Here is my little (slightly belated) holiday treat for all my beloved friends. :) Enjoy! As usual, it's something Frodo-centric with some food detail, and Sam and Elrond also make appearances. :) References to Aragorn, Merry, Pippin, and Celebrian, albeit Aragorn and Merry and Pippin only in passing. :)
"Are you nervous, Mr. Frodo?"
"Why?"
"Because," Sam said quietly, "you've been poking at your roast turkey for nigh on five minutes, and you've hardly touched your mashed taters, and I know how much you like those."
Frodo looked down at his still-full plate. He hadn't realised it, but he *had* been poking his fork around idly for past five minutes. "I'm sorry, Sam. My appetite seems to have gone."
"Begging your pardon, sir, but I think you ought to eat up. Seems to me this might be our last good meal for a long time, and you'll need something on your stomach for walking."
"You're right." Frodo began cutting up bites of white meat moistened with the juices from the turkey, dipping each mouthful into his applesauce before bringing the fork to his lips. It did taste good...and Sam was right. This might be the last good meal he ever had. Better to enjoy it.
Elrond had planned a special dinner for the Fellowship, since they were to leave early the next morning, and a good breakfast was reported to be in the works. Frodo strongly suspected it, as for days elves had been asking him question after question about his tastes: did he prefer turkey, goose, or both? Mashed potatoes or sweet potatoes - or both? Peas? Honeyed carrots? Rolls or bread? Stuffing, and what sort? And in breakfasts, sausages or bacon or ham, or some of each? Toast or pancakes? No one asked how he liked his eggs; everyone in Rivendell surely knew by now how he liked them scrambled, as long as he'd been on a light diet after his wound, and Elrond wanting him to take plenty of nourishing, easy to eat food, like scrambled eggs.
And they had surely all listened, for the feast was something to behold. There was goose and turkey, roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, cornbread stuffing made very Shire-like with sage and black pepper, honeyed carrots, baked mushrooms, green peas, a wonderful creamy chicken and mushroom soup, a vegetable soup made with rich beef broth, fresh rolls with sweet butter, and all manner of vegetable, fruit, and dessert dishes, such as Frodo had never seen in all his life. Even Aragorn, who usually seemed to eat little, feasted, and Merry and Pippin dug in with wild abandon. Of all the company, only Frodo seemed to have a heavy heart, though Sam too seemed subdued, as if he noticed his master's mood.
"Frodo."
Elrond's voice at his side caused him to start, and he looked up into the face of the elven lord. "Forgive me. I think my thoughts carried me away again."
"It is all right, Frodo. Come with me, if you can leave your plate for a minute. No one will take it away before you have finished, I assure you."
Rising, Frodo followed him, and they left Elrond's private dining-hall and passed into his library and study. It was a familiar room; they had had many conversations there concerning Frodo's journey. But now Elrond led him to his great desk, and there opened a small drawer.
"I have something I wish to give you, something that belonged to my wife many years ago, when she still dwelt in Imladris."
Frodo knew well by now the story of Elrond's wife Celebrian, the beautiful daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, who had been captured and tormented by orcs in the mountains before she was rescued by her sons. She had never been the same, though Elrond was able to heal her in body, and within a year she passed over the Sea, into the West.
Somehow Frodo knew a little of how she felt. Already he felt weary.
Elrond drew out a small box and offered it to Frodo. "Open it," he said. Frodo obeyed, and lifted the lid to find within a little book bound in leather. He looked inside, curious as to the contents. There, in a fair hand, he discovered beautifully scripted elvish words.
"Songs to the Valar - prayers, some might call them," said Elrond. "Celebrian wrote them after her ordeal. I thought that they might give you comfort on some cold night, when you are far from friendly lands, and hope seems a distant thing. She was given to carrying this book upon her person, but when she took the ship, she gave it to me in the last moment. "Keep this," she said, "for I deem there will come a soul who has more need of it than I shall, in days to come." I have kept it for this day. And now it is yours."
Frodo could hardly speak, and a lump rose in his throat. "It's beautiful. Thank you."
"Use it well." Elrond smiled. "And now, I believe you have more to eat. I will not think you a hobbit unless I see at least one more plateful cleared from your place."
Frodo smiled.
He was not alone. He could manage. Somehow.
-the end-
"Are you nervous, Mr. Frodo?"
"Why?"
"Because," Sam said quietly, "you've been poking at your roast turkey for nigh on five minutes, and you've hardly touched your mashed taters, and I know how much you like those."
Frodo looked down at his still-full plate. He hadn't realised it, but he *had* been poking his fork around idly for past five minutes. "I'm sorry, Sam. My appetite seems to have gone."
"Begging your pardon, sir, but I think you ought to eat up. Seems to me this might be our last good meal for a long time, and you'll need something on your stomach for walking."
"You're right." Frodo began cutting up bites of white meat moistened with the juices from the turkey, dipping each mouthful into his applesauce before bringing the fork to his lips. It did taste good...and Sam was right. This might be the last good meal he ever had. Better to enjoy it.
Elrond had planned a special dinner for the Fellowship, since they were to leave early the next morning, and a good breakfast was reported to be in the works. Frodo strongly suspected it, as for days elves had been asking him question after question about his tastes: did he prefer turkey, goose, or both? Mashed potatoes or sweet potatoes - or both? Peas? Honeyed carrots? Rolls or bread? Stuffing, and what sort? And in breakfasts, sausages or bacon or ham, or some of each? Toast or pancakes? No one asked how he liked his eggs; everyone in Rivendell surely knew by now how he liked them scrambled, as long as he'd been on a light diet after his wound, and Elrond wanting him to take plenty of nourishing, easy to eat food, like scrambled eggs.
And they had surely all listened, for the feast was something to behold. There was goose and turkey, roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, cornbread stuffing made very Shire-like with sage and black pepper, honeyed carrots, baked mushrooms, green peas, a wonderful creamy chicken and mushroom soup, a vegetable soup made with rich beef broth, fresh rolls with sweet butter, and all manner of vegetable, fruit, and dessert dishes, such as Frodo had never seen in all his life. Even Aragorn, who usually seemed to eat little, feasted, and Merry and Pippin dug in with wild abandon. Of all the company, only Frodo seemed to have a heavy heart, though Sam too seemed subdued, as if he noticed his master's mood.
"Frodo."
Elrond's voice at his side caused him to start, and he looked up into the face of the elven lord. "Forgive me. I think my thoughts carried me away again."
"It is all right, Frodo. Come with me, if you can leave your plate for a minute. No one will take it away before you have finished, I assure you."
Rising, Frodo followed him, and they left Elrond's private dining-hall and passed into his library and study. It was a familiar room; they had had many conversations there concerning Frodo's journey. But now Elrond led him to his great desk, and there opened a small drawer.
"I have something I wish to give you, something that belonged to my wife many years ago, when she still dwelt in Imladris."
Frodo knew well by now the story of Elrond's wife Celebrian, the beautiful daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, who had been captured and tormented by orcs in the mountains before she was rescued by her sons. She had never been the same, though Elrond was able to heal her in body, and within a year she passed over the Sea, into the West.
Somehow Frodo knew a little of how she felt. Already he felt weary.
Elrond drew out a small box and offered it to Frodo. "Open it," he said. Frodo obeyed, and lifted the lid to find within a little book bound in leather. He looked inside, curious as to the contents. There, in a fair hand, he discovered beautifully scripted elvish words.
"Songs to the Valar - prayers, some might call them," said Elrond. "Celebrian wrote them after her ordeal. I thought that they might give you comfort on some cold night, when you are far from friendly lands, and hope seems a distant thing. She was given to carrying this book upon her person, but when she took the ship, she gave it to me in the last moment. "Keep this," she said, "for I deem there will come a soul who has more need of it than I shall, in days to come." I have kept it for this day. And now it is yours."
Frodo could hardly speak, and a lump rose in his throat. "It's beautiful. Thank you."
"Use it well." Elrond smiled. "And now, I believe you have more to eat. I will not think you a hobbit unless I see at least one more plateful cleared from your place."
Frodo smiled.
He was not alone. He could manage. Somehow.
-the end-
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Date: 2011-12-26 09:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-27 02:00 am (UTC)Huggies,
Febobe :)
no subject
Date: 2011-12-27 04:28 am (UTC)Have you ever seen the movie "Smoke Signals"? It's an adaptation of a book by Sherman Alexie and it's about the road trip of 2 young Indian men. One of them is an adorable storyteller and he tells the story of a meal with a relish you would appreciate.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-27 02:39 pm (UTC)Thank you so much! :D
No, I've never seen SS, but thanks to you I will now...I checked the library's listings and they DO have it, and it's in, so when I go here in a few minutes, I'll be sure to pick it up! :) (And I'm sure I found the right one, 'cause it said it was two young Indian men on a road trip!) :) Thanks for the rec! :)
I don't quite know where the food addiction comes from with me. It just feels so very hobbity, and I really wonder whether I'm not part hobbit. ;)
Hugs,
Febobe :)
no subject
Date: 2011-12-27 03:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-27 07:15 pm (UTC)Thank you for this.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-28 12:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-28 03:46 pm (UTC)