Author's note : Frodo's Favorite Dinner Spread by Febobe.J
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REFLECTIONS IN THE DARK -- CHAPTER THREE
"Haunting"
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Frodo faded in and out of consciousness as time passed. The moth-eaten blanket did little to ease the cold, but it was better than nothing. He reached up to run his hand through his damp curls and coughed miserably. The bedraggled hobbit felt weak and defeated, and he didn't even know why. He perched on his feet because it was too painful to sit as he huddled against the wall. When was the last time he had anything to eat? He didn't know that either.
Images of what he might eat began to filter through the hobbit's mind though he tried desperately to think of something else. Unfortunately the images would not go away and he could almost smell the sensuous treats that were laid out about the grand hall….just waiting for him to sink his teeth into.
* * * * *
The scene played in his mind as he walked down the huge table, looking over the dishes, his mouth watering….
There were….piles of scones; maple scones, cranberry-walnut scones, there were huge moist muffins; black currant muffins, pumpkin muffins, apple crumb muffins. There was all kinds of tea…Huge bowls steaming with cream of chicken and mushroom soup with piping hot fresh rolls on the side…Fresh mince pies and mushroom turnovers. There was a great.roast goose with sage and onion stuffing and applesauce. There were heaping bowls of acorn squash with cinnamon and honey. There was platters of stewed mushrooms. There was a syphony of potatoes spread; mashed potatoes, and white ones with butter and sweet ones with cinnamon. Vegetables were scattered in varies bowls; corn pudding (rather like creamed corn, but thicker), sweet peas with mint, carrot fritters. For desert; pumpkin cake, apple pie and spiced ale as well as baked cranberry pudding with sweet sugary sauce, plum custard tart and gingerbread muffins. Not to mention the breads! Mulled cider and nutbread, cranberry bread and last but not least…hot chocolate with peppermint brandy and pecan stickybuns. . . ."
It was all the things that he liked best in the world, prepared with love and care…but he didn't want any of it…he was 12 years old…and something terrible had happened…what…he couldn't remember….why would he not want to eat?
* * * * *
Tears welled in his eyes once again. Even when faced with such delicacies, Frodo never did eat much of what was there. But what he wouldn't give to be there now…to have such a melody of food spread out before him. To have anything but what was happening now…he needed desperately to be warm…
Was he usually not hungry? Did he go without food for long periods of time before? Was that why he was so hungry now? He closed his eyes and the hazy, vague memories flashed through him. He had a feeling that he was…for he was a little on the thin side, and for some reason the idea that he should weigh more would not leave him.
*****
"I've never seen a hobbit eat so little." he heard the words vaguely. He was lying on a beautiful feather bed, comfortable yet his chest hurt. He struggled to open his eyes but he was tired…so tired.
"I know, Doc." a gruff male voice answered. "I've been trying to get him to eat more than he did at Brandy Hall, but the lad is stubborn."
"That stubborn streak runs in the family, I think, Bilbo." the doctor joked.
*****
He would eat now, he really would…All he needed was someone to bring him something…anything…His stomach was in so much pain….enough pain that he could barely move without it hurting.
*****
"Frodo-luv, do have a bit more of this peach sauce, your Aunty made it specially for you."
"Don't like peaches…want applesauce…please Mama…" The five year old pouted at the table and refused to open his lips.
"There's no apples left, dear. There won't be until the Spring."
He remembered crying for hours while his mother held him. His throat had been awfully sore for a while that winter and the only thing that he could easily get down was applesauce, but they'd run out of it.
*****
Frodo shivered, wondering why the memory was causing such a reaction in him. His mother…masses of chocolate brown curls and beautiful eyes. He missed her terribly, and it hurt in his stomach to think of her….and to even have a memory of her. Why? Where was she? He wanted her…and the idea of wanting her was hurting him. He was past the age of wanting his mother, but the emotion was building inside of him and he couldn't control it. Why did it hurt so much?
His mother would help him to…she would not have let this happen to him, Frodo was sure of that. He struggled to hold onto bits and pieces of her as the memories made little sense in his scattered thoughts.
"Mama…" he whimpered in the dark.
He was so hungry…
------------------------------------------------------------------
REFLECTIONS IN THE DARK -- CHAPTER THREE
"Haunting"
------------------------------------------------------------------
Frodo faded in and out of consciousness as time passed. The moth-eaten blanket did little to ease the cold, but it was better than nothing. He reached up to run his hand through his damp curls and coughed miserably. The bedraggled hobbit felt weak and defeated, and he didn't even know why. He perched on his feet because it was too painful to sit as he huddled against the wall. When was the last time he had anything to eat? He didn't know that either.
Images of what he might eat began to filter through the hobbit's mind though he tried desperately to think of something else. Unfortunately the images would not go away and he could almost smell the sensuous treats that were laid out about the grand hall….just waiting for him to sink his teeth into.
* * * * *
The scene played in his mind as he walked down the huge table, looking over the dishes, his mouth watering….
There were….piles of scones; maple scones, cranberry-walnut scones, there were huge moist muffins; black currant muffins, pumpkin muffins, apple crumb muffins. There was all kinds of tea…Huge bowls steaming with cream of chicken and mushroom soup with piping hot fresh rolls on the side…Fresh mince pies and mushroom turnovers. There was a great.roast goose with sage and onion stuffing and applesauce. There were heaping bowls of acorn squash with cinnamon and honey. There was platters of stewed mushrooms. There was a syphony of potatoes spread; mashed potatoes, and white ones with butter and sweet ones with cinnamon. Vegetables were scattered in varies bowls; corn pudding (rather like creamed corn, but thicker), sweet peas with mint, carrot fritters. For desert; pumpkin cake, apple pie and spiced ale as well as baked cranberry pudding with sweet sugary sauce, plum custard tart and gingerbread muffins. Not to mention the breads! Mulled cider and nutbread, cranberry bread and last but not least…hot chocolate with peppermint brandy and pecan stickybuns. . . ."
It was all the things that he liked best in the world, prepared with love and care…but he didn't want any of it…he was 12 years old…and something terrible had happened…what…he couldn't remember….why would he not want to eat?
* * * * *
Tears welled in his eyes once again. Even when faced with such delicacies, Frodo never did eat much of what was there. But what he wouldn't give to be there now…to have such a melody of food spread out before him. To have anything but what was happening now…he needed desperately to be warm…
Was he usually not hungry? Did he go without food for long periods of time before? Was that why he was so hungry now? He closed his eyes and the hazy, vague memories flashed through him. He had a feeling that he was…for he was a little on the thin side, and for some reason the idea that he should weigh more would not leave him.
*****
"I've never seen a hobbit eat so little." he heard the words vaguely. He was lying on a beautiful feather bed, comfortable yet his chest hurt. He struggled to open his eyes but he was tired…so tired.
"I know, Doc." a gruff male voice answered. "I've been trying to get him to eat more than he did at Brandy Hall, but the lad is stubborn."
"That stubborn streak runs in the family, I think, Bilbo." the doctor joked.
*****
He would eat now, he really would…All he needed was someone to bring him something…anything…His stomach was in so much pain….enough pain that he could barely move without it hurting.
*****
"Frodo-luv, do have a bit more of this peach sauce, your Aunty made it specially for you."
"Don't like peaches…want applesauce…please Mama…" The five year old pouted at the table and refused to open his lips.
"There's no apples left, dear. There won't be until the Spring."
He remembered crying for hours while his mother held him. His throat had been awfully sore for a while that winter and the only thing that he could easily get down was applesauce, but they'd run out of it.
*****
Frodo shivered, wondering why the memory was causing such a reaction in him. His mother…masses of chocolate brown curls and beautiful eyes. He missed her terribly, and it hurt in his stomach to think of her….and to even have a memory of her. Why? Where was she? He wanted her…and the idea of wanting her was hurting him. He was past the age of wanting his mother, but the emotion was building inside of him and he couldn't control it. Why did it hurt so much?
His mother would help him to…she would not have let this happen to him, Frodo was sure of that. He struggled to hold onto bits and pieces of her as the memories made little sense in his scattered thoughts.
"Mama…" he whimpered in the dark.
He was so hungry…