febobe

Warnings, Notes, Disclaimer, etc. in Part 1/?

CHAPTER FOUR

Frodo sat curled comfortably in the oversized chair that Ioreth had stuffed with cushions for him, surrounded by pages and volumes - treats from Faramir, delivered just before luncheon. There were beautiful receipt-books, and menus from many of the finest eateries in Minas Tirith as well as Aragorn's particular favorites, haunts he had frequented in his soldiering days. The offerings ranged from the simplest of fare, plain meat and potatoes and beer, to such finery as chicken with lemon and white wine, bluefish with lemon and mint, batter-fried shrimp, peaches in red wine, and chocolate foam with raspberries. It all sounded delicious, and Frodo made notes in the small note-book Faramir had given him as to where he might like to go when he felt well enough to venture out under escort.

An idea began to form in his head, and he looked up.

"Sam?"

"Yes, Mr. Frodo?" Across the room Sam looked up at once from the receipt-book he was browsing - a book entitled Cookery for the Convalescent.

"What if. . ." Frodo grinned. "What if. . .we were to make our *own* receipt-book? Of recipes from the Shire and Buckland? We could leave it with Faramir, to stay in Minas Tirith, as a record. . .sort of a memory of hobbits, if you like."

Sam broke into a broad smile. "Why, if that wouldn't be just the thing, sir! A splendid idea!"

"And I want us to have plain cooking, too, not just the special occasion food. Big Folk don't seem to know very much about plain hobbit cooking, do they?"

"Begging pardon, sir, but. . ." Sam lowered his voice, glancing furtively toward the closed door. "They don't, do they?"

Frodo shook his head. "Now, let's see. . . . We *must* have a recipe for oat porridge; everyone grows up on that for breakfast along with hot buttered toast. And I couldn't leave out Aunt Eglantine's peach on sugared toast; Pip would never forgive me."

"What about them apples in custard you like so much, sir? Would those do?"

Frodo nodded. "Those would do nicely. And apple and raspberry dumplings, too, and sticky toffee pudding. . .teacakes, I haven't seen a teacake since we woke. . . ."

"And sausages and mash; I was telling Faramir about them and he says they don't make those here."

"And Bilbo's chicken soup."

"Mam's vegetable soup."

"My mother's gingerbread receipt."

"Them jam tarts Mr. Pippin always eats you out of when he comes to visit."

Frodo felt his heart lighten as he scribbled one note after another.

It would be all right.

Surely this would make everything all right.

-to be continued-

CHAPTER FIVE

"Frodo?"

Frodo looked up from his plateful of toast and eggs to find Aragorn at his door. So much for an uninterrupted breakfast. Sam, having already finished, had gone out to the gardens with Ioreth, leaving Frodo the "thinking time" he particularly preferred in the mornings.

Despite his reticence for company, Frodo nodded. "Yes?"

The king came in, closing the door softly behind him, and settled in a chair at Frodo's bedside.

"Frodo, are you happy here?"

The question took Frodo aback, and he paused for a sip of juice before responding. "Well, yes and no. Everyone is kind to me - but - Sam and I are not among our companions, and it is a little lonely thus, and - " He hesitated a moment. "And we cannot cook. Which is, as Sam would say, 'most unnatural' for a hobbit. I was ever considered odd, but I am doubly unnatural now, for I have no kitchen in which I can cook a little something."

Aragorn nodded thoughtfully. "And what would you do if I allowed you and Sam to go and live with your companions? Would you continue to eat well for me, and take plenty of rest?"

To go and live with the others? Eagerly Frodo nodded. "I would. I promise. Have I not obeyed thus far?"

Chuckling, Aragorn nodded. "I must confess that I have yet to see a tray return as untouched as they did in Rivendell, or hear of you sitting up talking when you should be sleeping. Very well, then! I shall give Sam and the others careful instructions, but I shall give them to you as well, so you will know whether or not you are following them, mm?"

Frodo nodded dutifully, biting into another slice of toast spread with fresh butter and orange marmalade as he listened.

"Faramir will make certain that you are supplied with powdered milk at all times. Each time you bake muffins, or make griddlecakes, or anything of that sort, I want you to add two tablespoons of the powdered milk to what you are making. That will be as medicine for you and for Sam. You still have weight to gain back, and the extra milk will help. In addition, I want you to eat plenty of snacks. Make certain you do not skimp in eating meat, for that will help build back your strength. Take advantage of not only your kitchen, but the eateries of this city; the specialties it offers are very good for putting on weight." He chuckles. "If you were to eat more of the pasta and tirithmist on a regular basis, I believe you would find your waistline widening more quickly than you might imagine."

For a moment he hesitated, and then he continued.

"And be understanding of Pippin when he watches what you eat and drink. I have charged him to be my eyes and ears in this matter, for I cannot watch over you personally at all times now, and he will have far more opportunity than I. Of Merry I have asked the same, and I am working with Eomer to ensure that they do not share the same days on guard-duty, so that one or the other may always be with you. I know that Sam will always gladly report to me, but your cousins are anxious to help you in any way they can, and Sam already feels useful to you. It is time for him to let others help care for you."

Frodo nodded dutifully. "I will feel better once I am there. It is home, of some sort."

"It is indeed." Aragorn bent and kissed his brow. "Little one, I know that you long for the day you will see Bilbo again. But have patience! That day will come. Until then, take pleasure in food and friendship, and allow us to comfort you as we may." He rose, smiling. "And prepare to help Ioreth pack your things after you have had second breakfast. But do not rush! I want time to make proper preparations to ensure your safety and comfort."

"Very well." Frodo took another mouthful of toast, washing it down with a sip of the sweet-tart orange juice provided for him, before turning his attention to the strange fruit on his tray - "pink grape-fruit," Ioreth had called it, providing a special little spoon designed for digging out each delicious segment. "I am ready for a change. . .the Houses of Healing have been kind, but. . .they are not a home."

"No." Aragorn's voice was gentle. "And I should have remembered that sooner. Forgive me, Frodo! I should have neglected you and Sam least of all. But now all shall be set to rights."

-to be continued-

CHAPTER SIX

"Will it do?"

"It's perfect." Frodo looked about eagerly, delighted by the pair of fluffy feather-beds - the perfect size for hobbits, each piled with down pillows and soft, colourful quilts. On a table beside each bed stood a large bowl filled with fresh fruit - oranges, grapes, cherries, apples, and pears - and biscotti, as well as a water-pitcher and cup. "Faramir, I could not like it better had I arranged it all myself."

"We knew you and Sam would wish to be together. Merry and Pippin share a room as well, though I believe they spend a fair bit of time cleaning up after pillow-fights!" With a grin, the man set Frodo's few belongings in order. "Would you like to join Sam in the kitchen?"

The kitchen?

Frodo's heart skipped a few beats.

"Yes. . .yes, please. . .I should love that."

Already the smell of something delicious wafted from the direction whence they walked, and Frodo sniffed the air appreciatively - sausages! And apples! Sure enough, when they entered the kitchen, Merry stood on a low step-ladder, attending to sizzling pork sausages and frying apple slices atop the stove. Pippin was setting the small kitchen table, which was clearly too small to seat the house's occupants en masse, but - for four hobbits, and perhaps a companion or two, it was perfect.

Awed, Frodo looked around. Everything was large, but step-ladders and the like had been strategically placed to render everything accessible to hobbits. And the pans were a bit smaller - had they been specially made? He could not say, but they seemed the perfect size for hobbit hands.

"There you are, then, Frodo! Come and sit, now, and tell us what you can drink!" chirped Pippin brightly. "Shall it be water, or beer? Merry will have those sausages ready soon, so I'd best get your drinks ready - you, too, Sam!"

Sam started to protest, but Pippin shushed him with a word, finally coaxing an interest in beer out of both hobbits and bouncing off to fill two mugs.

"Merry," Frodo managed at last, "you shouldn't have gone to such trouble."

"Stuff and nonsense. You need to eat, and who wants to go out on your first day home? We knew you'd be tired, most likely, and might want a bit of a rest. And this was quick enough to make." Merry smiled warmly, beginning to dish up platefuls of food as Faramir helpfully passed him each plate, allowing him to serve right from the skillet. "I even made enough for the good Steward here. The others won't be home for lunch; they're out busy erranding, but *we're* here, so I thought we might as well enjoy ourselves."

Pippin returned, bearing two mugs of beer, and placed them before Frodo and Sam. "Captain Faramir?"

"Beer will do for me as well, thank you, Pippin."

Again Pippin hopped off to the cellar with a clutch of mugs, returning with enough for the rest of them this time. "All right, then! Now we can *eat*!"

"Indeed we can." Merry took his seat at the table between Frodo and Pippin, with Pippin next to Faramir, Faramir next to Sam, and Sam beside Frodo. He studied his cousin for a long moment before suddenly reaching for one hand and clasping it close.

"I thought we might never see you again," he murmured. "I thought I might never cook another meal for all of us. I thought we might never - "

Frodo swallowed. "More than once I thought the same," he said hoarsely. "But here we are. And *I* intend to cook for *you* soon enough, for a change! Will you help me?"

"Anything." Merry nodded earnestly. "Anything you like."

And with that, they turned their attention to the sausages and apples, drinking great draughts of beer and speaking of happier times than those days of late.

-to be continued-

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Blast!"

Sam looked up from a bowl of eggs he was beating up. "What's the matter, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo sighed irritably. "It's my handwriting. I should have known it wasn't good enough for something like this yet. But I truly thought it would be all right. . . ."

"There now, sir. You just rest a bit. Come help me with the bacon if you like!"

Rising eagerly, Frodo washed his hands, then came to the stove and climbed up the other step-ladder, beginning to lay fresh rashers of bacon in the pan, which was already hot and ready for them. Meanwhile, Sam poured the eggs into his pan and began to scramble them. For a few minutes the kitchen was filled with contented silence, save for the peaceful sounds of food sizzling and bubbling merrily in the skillets.

"What do you think we should make for elevenses? And luncheon?"

Sam sucked his teeth, turning the eggs here and there. "Elevenses is already taken care of, sir. I baked up some muffins this morning when I woke up early, and there's plenty, and there's fruit, so - if muffins and fruit will still do - that way we won't have to interrupt our work too much."

"They'll do nicely, thank you. For luncheon, I was thinking sausages again, with mash and onion gravy this time. I fancy something with a bit of bite to it."

"Why, master, if that don't sound like just the thing!" Sam beamed, beginning to shovel eggs onto plates. "That's a grand idea, and no mistake. Do we have what we need, or shall I look?"

"We have everything, I think. I asked Merry about it this morning." Frodo glanced around. "Just us for second breakfast?"

Sam nodded. "Mr. Pippin has guard duties today; Mr. Merry's gone to see Lord Eomer, Gandalf is with Stri - I mean Aragorn, and Legolas and Gimli went to market for a few things. I wanted to go, but they didn't think either of us were strong enough for an outing to market yet, so I told 'em what to look for, clear as day, and no mistakes. I think an elf ought to be able to find a proper basket o'strawberries at the market this time o'year."

Sliding the bacon onto a platter, Frodo laughed, nodding. "Indeed!"

They took their seats at the table, passing the bacon dish back and forth between them, as well as a dish of baked mushrooms that Sam had prepared. It was eminently pleasant, and Frodo found his frustrations easing with the comfort of a good meal.

So long did they linger over their plates, in fact, that they were still eating when Legolas and Gimli returned, bearing a load of produce and goods from the market. At once Sam rose to inspect it, leaving Frodo to clean his own plate and ponder.

"I did find beautiful strawberries, and here they are," he heard Legolas saying, "and enough mushrooms to feed a small army."

"Good, good. Now, tomorrow I'll be sending you out after carrots and the like," warned Sam. "I want to make a nice big pot of vegetable soup. Do us all good. Mr. Frodo especially."

Frodo tried not to blush.

Legolas, relieved of his burden, came and sat beside Frodo at the table, leaving Gimli to help Sam put away the groceries. "And you, Frodo?" he enquired gently. "What do you wish to cook? For I understand that your heart's desire lies there as well."

Frodo hesitated, considering. "Please - mushroom soup; my mother had a wonderful receipt for it. And - Bilbo's seed-cake. And have you ever had blackcurrant and mint crumble?"

Legolas shook his head, smiling.

"It always makes me feel better." Frodo mustered a smile as well. "I think you would like it."

"I am sure that I would." Legolas rose, brushing his shoulder gently. "Whatever you require, you have only to ask, and I will find it for you, if it is to be had."

And with that, he and Gimli slipped away, leaving Frodo and Sam at peace in the kitchen once more.

-to be continued-