Disclaimers: I do now The Lord of the Rings. The trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. I own the original plot, original characters, etc.

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Another one-shot for the Days of the Week challenge, started by me and my friends Eldhoron, LadyLindariel, and portkeytoreality over by the Three Readers forum. Here we go. :)

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CLANG!

Lord Elrond Half-elven, of Rivendell, had just turned the page of the book he was reading. The inked text was written in elvish, but it was on the many preparations to produce a turkey salad. He was keen on showing the cooks this recipe when…

CLANG!

He knew his ears weren't deceiving him. Some hobbit or rather was in the kitchen. It had to be a hobbit. The four travelers had arrived, one was injured and needed his assistance. But he was well now. His name: Frodo Baggins and where his journey lay ahead… well…

CRASH! SMASH!

"What is going on in there?" Elrond asked, moving to a sitting position and slamming his book shut. He stomped into the kitchen without delay. Only, the cooks were off for the next few hours. Instead, to his surprise – no doubt he was surprised – there was a golden-haired hobbit and a dark-haired hobbit sitting at the table. They were politely eating delicious cream. "Just what is going on in here? Messrs. Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took."

The hobbits fell silent. They stared at him with a malice that didn't cease. It was that mischievous grin that Elrond sought out whenever Elladan caused mischief. Only when Elladan was in trouble, Elrohir often helped his brother out of this mess. The hobbits, on the other hand… well, they would get theirs soon enough. They wouldn't get away that easily.

"What have you to say for yourselves?" Elrond asked the two hobbits.

"The cream is good." Pippin sucked his fingers, in an effort to get the cream off. Elrond's hands turned into fists. That scared the young hobbit. "Elrond, please sit down." He asked, promptly, "Is it buttermilk that's in this cream? It's quite good. Mmm. Delicious!"

"We hobbits are quite handy when collecting cream," Merry said.

"Yes. Is it buttermilk or buttercream? Can't seem to put the two together," Pippin said, still licking his fingers of the creamy goodness that was in the ceramic bowl.

"I'll let you off this once. But because you are my guests… you can clean up after yourselves, can't you?" Elrond asked them.

"Sure," Pippin said.

"Thank you, Lord Elrond," Merry said, grinning with satisfaction. Elrond heard him as he left the kitchen, "Did you hear that, Pippin? We're recognized here in Rivendell, and we didn't get into trouble this time. Well…"

"I still have my eye on you, Meriadoc," Elrond called to them.

"This buttermilk or is it a cream?" Pippin said, smelling the warmth, gooey cream with satisfied delight.

"I don't know, but Lord Elrond's watching us," Merry said.

"Yes. Let's finish up in here," Pippin said, eating one more spoonful of the buttermilk – buttercream…

Elrond smiled, nearly chuckling. Well, the cooks did make a fine batch of buttercream. He would give the cooks a well-deserved pat on the back. They did well in their making of buttercream, satisfying the hobbits who were, he hoped, enjoying their time in Rivendell. For in his heart, he feared their journey would become far more perilous. For now, the laughter and merry cheer brought his heart to tears.

It was a warm and sunny day in Rivendell. That much was true enough for him. And that's what he would keep in his record of fine days in the Valley of Imladris.

The End.

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Thanks for reading. :)