Disclaimer: All characters and places in this belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, not me. I'm just playing with them, not making any money, or trying to cause any harm.
Author's Note: Wow, I think I've gotten more plot bunnies out of my lit class than I've gotten homework assignments! This is just some crack!fic inspired by a discussion of the roles of the four hobbits in a family of sorts. I thought it might be funny if Frodo had a dream about Sam wearing a frilly apron and acting like the perfect mother or wife. Unfortunately, I couldn't quite work the apron in to this, but please imagine Sam wearing a big frilly apron with flowers on it!
~*~
The Strangest Dream
Frodo sat at the table, watching the door eagerly. Something made him look around. There was too much normal in the room; everything was so normal that it was unnatural and disturbing.
He was in the dining room at … Crickhollow. Yes, this was Crickhollow and not Bag End. Several of the wall hangings were Bilbo's, but they hung on unfamiliar walls. The rug was Frodo's favorite, with a pattern of dancing squirrels, deer, and foxes. The table he was sitting at was the same old table that had graced the main dining room of Bag End since Bilbo's father, Bungo Baggins, had built the magnificent dwelling.
The polished wood shone brightly with the light of the fireplace and many candles and lamps. Frodo found himself marveling at the furniture, which had once seemed so ordinary, as it seemed to glow a warm, rich gold. He thought of all the care that the craftsman had lovingly put into the pieces: cutting the wood then piecing it together before sanding, smoothing and polishing until it was like satin. Then he marveled at the things the table had seen: stiff family meals with Bungo, Belladonna and Bilbo; countless parties Bilbo hosted, especially one particular meal with thirteen Dwarves and a Wizard; the entertaining Bilbo and Frodo had done; and now this, a move to Buckland, away from Bag End and …
The door swung open and Sam came into the room bearing a tray laden with steaming mushrooms. Pippin, who Frodo suddenly realized was sitting across from him, made appreciative noises and licked his lips. Sam carefully deposited the tray at the head of the table, which Frodo realized with a start was occupied by Merry!
"Thank you, Sam!" Merry hummed appreciatively then inhaled deeply. Pippin reached out an eager fork only to be slapped away by Sam.
"Now Pippin, wait your turn! Merry'll be serving them up in a moment," Sam chided. The reprimand lost some of its effect as Sam, too, looked longingly at his empty plate at the far end of the table.
Merry took the hint and served himself a healthy portion of the mushrooms then passed it to his right to Frodo. Even when Frodo had taken a share, hardly a dent had been made in the huge platter. It was duly passed to Sam, who took an equal portion, before finally coming to Pippin. The youngest hobbit attacked the plate with gusto, and there was definitely a dent by the time the dish came back to Merry.
"Yum! Fresh from Farmer Maggot this morning," Pippin said happily as he slathered butter and salt on his mushrooms.
"From Maggot himself and not from his fields," Merry chimed in, with a pointed look at Pippin then Frodo. For some reason, Frodo found himself blushing and loaded his fork with food to cover his embarrassment. Just as the delicious food was about to touch his tongue, he woke up.
He found himself lying on hard stone beneath a sheer, rocky cliff. A cold wind blew around him, chilling him and making him groan with longing for the warm room and warmer food.
"What is it, Mister Frodo?"
Sam's anxious query came from his left, and Frodo turned to face him as he replied, "I do not know. I have had the strangest dream."