Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, and Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo. As you may have guessed, I am not one of the aforementioned people.
Author's Note: Constructive criticism is welcome. Opinions will be heard, but not necessarily acted upon. Flames will be ignored.
I: Inoue Orihime of Bleach
"Are you sure she should be cooking?" Pippin asked Sam in an undertone, watching their female comrade's flurry of activity. "I mean, she can be somewhat…odd."
"Lady Orihime insisted," Sam replied, uncomfortable with a fine lady doing servant's work.
"Ta-da!" Orihime announced, handing out plates. "Itadakimasu!"
"Is this dish from your homeland, Lady Orihime?" Aragorn inquired.
"Yes, it's okonomiyaki with red bean paste and Tabasco sauce!" Orihime replied cheerfully. "It's one of my favorite foods!"
A first bite was taken. Gandalf's eyes widened. Aragorn's expression became rather…fixed. Boromir's face screwed up. Legolas looked like elven dignity was the only thing keeping his head from exploding. Frodo coughed. Pippin gagged. Merry swallowed convulsively and gasped for air. Sam, with total concentration on maintaining politeness, chewed and swallowed normally. And Gimli…beamed?
"Lady Orihime, you cook like a dwarf! A full range of flavors in every single bite! Why, this reminds me of my last banquet at the Lonely Mountain…" Gimli praised.
"Thank you, Gimli-san!" Orihime rejoined delightedly. "I always like trying new things and mixing different flavors."
"I have never heard of this 'red bean paste', or of this 'Tabasco sauce'," Gimli mentioned thoughtfully after another bite. "Are they from your world? Where did you find them?"
"Oh, I always carry some with me!" Orihime returned brightly. "After all, you never know when you could be walking down the street and suddenly get taken by alien vampire robots from Neptune!"
Sweatdropping, the remaining eight members of the Fellowship made a solemn, unspoken pact to NEVER AGAIN permit Inoue Orihime to cook for them.
