The Great Frying Pan Games of 2941

Thanks to Fallen-Ryu for this idea :D

Once the battle was over, and the men and elves were for at least some while too busy to come after Erebor's gold, there was very little for the company to do but wait for Dain to show up. When he and his army got there the efforts to start cleaning up Erebor could begin, but until he did no member of the group felt the need to do any cleaning themselves. In their opinion they had done enough work, and it was time somebody else did some for a change. Most days the entire of the company gathered on the grassy fields at Erebor's gates, all except Bofur that was.

Bofur had been acting very...well, very off lately. He could often be found in corners muttering darkly to himself and sharpening his sausage fork, or else crying his eyes out over the death of his old hat. All of the company missed the hat, but they were starting to think Bofur was perhaps a tad obsessive.

It was still alive, he told them, the orc that did such a terrible thing. He remembered well its face, and its body was nowhere on the battle field. It was out there somewhere.

The company did not know how he was so sure of this...unless he had checked the entire battle field of dead orcs... If that was so they found they did not want to know, so never asked.

Anyway, the fact remained that this was not normal Bofur behavior at all. Sweet, kind, smiling Bofur, so intent on revenge? Picking through bodies in search? Disappearing for hours on end, only to return with a glint in his eye, crazier and madder than before? It was all quite disconcerting.

The company treated him much the same as you would a sad little kitten which may or may not have rabies: keep an eye on him, make sure he eats, give words of comfort, but do not get within arm's length.

Still, minus the Bofur problem, life was quiet. Bilbo started to teach Thorin how to fight properly with a pan, and soon after Fili, Kili and Ori also joined in on the lessons. They were all naturals, Mr Baggins told them, at being inferior in skill to him.

The lessons proved to be of some entertainment to the rest of the company though, and they would gather on the grass to watch. They had a lot of gold now, and so it was good to have something to bet it away on.

"That's enough for now." Bilbo dismissed his pupils for a break late one morning. The three conscious ones dropped their pans and made to sit with the others, and Kili was rolled half way from his place before his brother gave up and left him where he was. Sometimes Fili would doubt Bilbo's teaching methods, then something like this would happen to Kili and his faith would be restored. Ah yes, he enjoyed this. Never had he been able to hit his younger sibling without being scolded by someone for it, usually his mother. He had a lot of childhood scores to even.

"So," Fili said as he joined the others, a spring in his step. "What now?"

No one had a good answer.

Bilbo frowned in thought. "Well, my ancestor, Old Took's great-granduncle Bullroarer-"

"Nobody cares, Bilbo." Thorin flopped to the ground. He knew it was not befitting of royalty but he was feeling rather dramatic: he was not used to being bored, it was a new thing to him. The king nudged Dwalin with his foot. "Do something to amuse me."

The stony dwarf looked up from his daisy chain for a second and caught the King's eye. "No."

"...Oh."

"-He was so huge that he could ride a horse-" Bilbo started again, getting a loud groan from every member of the company.

"We don't want to know-!" Nori got a blow to the stomach with the flat side of a pan.

"Well you should!" Bilbo huffed, ignoring the dwarf's wail of pain. "It's all true! The goblin's head, the rabbit hole, golf! All of it!"

"Golf!" Kili had woken up. "I've never played golf! Teach me Bilbo, please!"

Bilbo looked pleased with himself. At least someone had jumped at what he was trying to suggest. "Of course."

Thorin snorted under his breath. Golf...sounded like a silly game. He gazed around at his inactive company. ...Then again... It would be something to do.

The rest of the company seemed to be thinking on the idea.

"Haven't had a good game of golf in a long time, actually. Would be nice." Gloin admitted gruffly.

"I'll play." Dori decided. "I used to be pretty good."

"What would we use for balls? I don't believe we have any." Bombur asked doubtfully, he had never had any great talent for the sport.

"We have lots of goblin heads, though." Thorin sat up. "It would be good to keep close to the original idea. Game spirit."

Anything. Anything but boredom.

"But clubs?" Bombur questioned. "What about clubs?"

"The camp where the men were staying had lots of frying pans." Bilbo answered. "I nicked a load last time I was there and stashed them. There should be enough for one each."

"So we play then!" Balin squeaked with joy. "There's a nice field further down the mountain. Quite infested with rabbits, it is."

An hour later saw a sight, that was for sure.

Only Balin and Dori had really made it anywhere with the game. They were on their seventh hole actually, and the two of them were doing pretty well. The same could not be said for the others.

Kili and Fili had been out of the game from the first hit.

"FORE!" Kili had yelled, and smacked his goblin head hard with all his might. The head had not taken the course he had wanted though, and had hit his brother. The two of them were still fighting.

Bombur had a hard time even to hit his orc head, and was struggling at the first hole. Nori and Ori had been doing okay, but were held up by Dwalin, who had his head stuck in the third hole and was finding it to be proving difficult to remove. Bofur was missing of course, and Bifur was hitting his head in the opposite direction to everybody else. Where he thought he was going nobody knew.

Thorin and Bilbo had apparently given up, and were hitting their heads randomly, commenting on each other's shots. 'I say, that was rather excellent! Do you think you could hit it into that cart the man down there is pulling? ...Oh! Not quite! ...My goodness, do you think he's okay?' 'Fine, I'm sure, just a bit stunned he looks to me...' '...I think you killed him!' 'We never speak of this.' 'Agreed.'

Gloin had been enjoying the game, regardless of what was going on around him. But that was until a rabbit had stolen his orc head. "Come back here! You filthy little- I thought rabbits were supposed to be vegetarian!"

Oin only watched in worry as his brother ran around the field after his head, tripping over rabbit holes as he went. "Oh dear me..."

It was at around this point in time that Bofur made his appearance, springing from a bush and giving poor Bombur quite a shock. He had been gone all the night before, and was a mess: trailing mud and branches everywhere. That was not what upset Bombur though, it was the orc head he had stuck on his sausage fork. "I got him, brother! Look!"

"Bofur! That's inhumane!" Never mind the fact they had both killed loads of orcs in their time, and that he himself was playing a game that involved the hitting of severed heads into rabbit holes. Bofur just wasn't one of act so...so...-

"Inhumane? I did not know this orc was well known!" Bofur ran off in the direction of the gates. "Oh my hat, I have avenged you! I have disposed of your murderer, the great goblin: Inhumane! You may rest in peace now!"

The company didn't play golf again after that, though they did invent a few new games: like football, and bowling. When Dain finally arrived he would wonder at how so many goblin heads had spread around, some very far away indeed from the battle field. He would even hear one man's story of the day an orc head fell from the sky and knocked him out cold, the townsman showed him the scar he got from it too, but he never believed it. Raining orc heads? What a ridiculous idea!

:)

Future Note: Some chapters have Dain and his men not showing up until after the battle. I don't remember why.