97 Fellow Sufferer.

Pippin looked over to where the dark and scary ragged man sat running a stone over his already sharp knife and inched on his bottom towards his friend. They had stopped for a short rest under the shelter of a rocky overhang and Pippin's mind had automatically turned to one thing although Strider had thoroughly castigated him when he had raised the subject a few moments before.

"I don't like it Merry." He whispered softly. "It's not natural."

"I know Pip." The older hobbit replied just as quietly. "I don't like it either. But what can we do?"

"I think we should just do it!" Pippin said firmly. "Who put him in charge, after all, he just tagged along when we left Brie."

"But he did save our lives against those black riders." Merry replied cautiously.

"That doesn't mean he can tell us what to do though." The youngest hobbit replied stubbornly. "And

I for one can't think, never mind keep walking, without something in my stomach and those mushrooms are just sitting there, waiting to be enjoyed."

The pair swivelled their eyes to where a large crop of beautiful, pale fungi sprouted a few paces away and Pippins stomach growled loudly.

"Maybe he just doesn't like them." Merry said thoughtfully.

"Pah!" Pippin exclaimed. "Not like mushrooms! Who ever heard of not liking mushrooms!"

"Well, he is a Man." Stated Merry, as if that could account for the perceived strangeness and both hobbits turned their heads to stare at the ranger.

"He shouldn't make us suffer just because he doesn't like them!" Pippin hissed. "That's not fair!"

"That's as may be," replied Merry. "But are you willing to cross him?"

They both flinched as Aragorn sheathed the knife and rose to his feet in one smooth movement then stalked over to glower down at them.

"Amazing creatures!" Aragorn stated gruffly, remembering a conversation with a certain wizard when being asked to keep an eye on the inhabitants of The Shire. "Exasperating more like." He continued with a shake of the head. "I swear you care more for your stomachs than your safety!"

"Now hold on a minute!" Pippin sprang to his feet indignantly. "We are neither creatures nor exasperating and it is cruel to bring us so close to a meal fit for a king but not to let us cook it!"

He looked at Merry who was nodding furiously in agreement although he remained seated and appeared as if he were trying to shrink into the ground.

"Our stomachs are finely honed I'll have you know!" Pippin retorted. "And do not take kindly to being denied." He stomped a hairy foot in emphasis.

"Well, denied they must be if you are to live long enough to reach the safety of Imladris!" Aragorn shouted before closing his mouth with a snap, wishing he could call the words back and hoping against hope there were none of the dark lords servants close enough to be eavesdropping.

"Strider is right." Sam broke in calmly. "We need to keep moving if those 'things' are not to catch up with us again, otherwise I feel empty stomachs will be the least of our concerns." He glanced around nervously as if expecting dark shapes to materialise before them any moment.

"Aye." The ranger agreed. "And we have tarried here long enough. We must move on if we are to reach Weathertop before nightfall. " He continued before reaching down to pick up his pack and hoist it onto his shoulders.

"Come." He took a step forwards before turning back to glare at Pippin. "I'm sure there will be enough mushrooms at the Last Homely House to sate even the hungriest of hobbits and they will taste all the better for the wait."

Pippin opened his mouth to reply then shut it again as Merry grabbed hold of his arm uttering a firm, 'I think we better do as he says Pip,' with a warning glance at the sword which hung from the man's belt.

As the other three hobbits began to follow Strider out from the shelter of the overhang Pippin could not help but take a final, lingering look at the perfectly plump mushrooms they were leaving behind and came to a decision. In one swift movement he had dashed over, opened his pack and begun plucking them from the soft ground and stowing them amongst the few bits and pieces he carried.

Hearing Merry call his name he rushed to cram the remaining fungi into the bag then made off after the others, wiping his fingers down his trousers to remove any evidence and certain in the knowledge that he would be a hero to his friends when he produced them for their next meal.

A/N

I just couldn't resist a little light relief with Pippin and Merry for this one. Hope you enjoy. :)