Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, nor do I entirely want to…Too much responsibility. I would probably let it go to hell by accident…^_^
Summary: After seeing the hobbits smoking Saruman's Longbottom leaf, Gandalf delights in the fact that it is the same weed Saruman scolded Gandalf for smoking when he was still a gray wizard.
Notes: Movie verse. Rather OOC Gandalf. This lil plot bunny rather grabbed me by the ear and MADE me write.
"Eh…Hobbits…" Gandalf mumbled, exasperated at the two drunken, smoking halflings "sitting on a field of victory enjoying a few well-earned comforts." The air smelled of ale, burned wood, food, and…
Gandalf sniffed the air. What was it they were smoking?
Could it be?
Longbottom leaf!
But where did they get it?!
"Where did you get that weed you are smoking, Master Meriadoc and Peregrin Took?" Gandalf asked, rather demanded to know.
"Saruman's storeroom!" Merry answered proudly as he took a long drag from his pipe.
"Saruman keeps pipe weed?" the drooling dwarf's voice came from behind the Elf.
"Well, it was in his storeroom," Pippin stated, taking a bite of a red apple and then a rather large swig of ale.
Gandalf smirked to himself. Oh, this was good…this was really good…
He dismounted his horse with great authority, splashing down into the water below him.
"Where are you going, Gandalf?" Legolas inquired.
"If you'll all excuse me, friends. I have rather an issue to discuss with Saruman the White, of Isenguard," he said with a great air of seriousness. His friends watched him pass by Merry and Pippin and grab a fistful of the weed, then slosh his way towards the black tower that jutted up from the water.
* * *
Gandalf saw Saruman and his recently acquired minion looking bewildered and stunned, stranded a good ways up. He grinned mischievously and called to a nearby Ent. "Excuse me, tree friend. May I have some help? I desire to speak with Saruman of Isengard."
The Ent looked at Gandalf suspiciously, but obliged just the same. He lifted Gandalf with great, strong hands, up to Saruman and Gríma.
"Gandalf!" Saruman exclaimed, shocked. "I thought you had…What are you doing here?" The old wizard fumbled, looking for his staff.
"Oh, nothing, just passing by…I smelled something odd in the air…" Gandalf held up his hand full of Longbottom leaf and looked at it, then sniffed it. "It turned out to be Longbottom leaf. Old Toby. Hobbit weed, as is known by some. But why, I'm wondering, does it exist in Isengard?" He feigned surprise.
"I…I…" Saruman looked shocked.
"Did you not tell me that my 'love of the Shire leaf has clearly slowed my mind'?" Gandalf asked.
"I merely had it because…I…Well, Gríma here rather likes it and…"
"Ah…Indeed. But he has only arrived a short while ago, and it takes far longer than that for a package to reach here from the South Farthing!" Gandalf proclaimed. He dropped three leaves into the waters below, one by one. "By the way, Saruman, I love what you've done with the place." He smiled wickedly.
"Gandalf, you are the most…" Saruman began.
"Oh, no need to speak, because," Gandalf leaned in, grinning viciously, "the love of the Shire leaf has, quite clearly indeed, slowed your mind."