Aragorn sat on the fallen log to eat his meal. The venison stew was
plentiful tonight. Between them, Sam and Frodo had added herbs and root
vegetables and made the most wonderful meal Aragorn had ever tasted in the
wild. If it became known that hobbits were such excellent cooks all
Rangers would be demanding one to accompany their trips. And then all
Rangers would probably be as fat as hobbits.
The other four were all into their third helpings when Aragorn became aware that he was the subject of scrutiny. The younger hobbit, Pippin, had been giving the Ranger surreptitious glances all day and had now slowed down his eating to stare outright.
Aragorn shifted a little. He supposed the hobbit was just fascinated with seeing a Big Person as they called men. Frodo was too tired and stressed to take much notice, and Sam too concerned over his master's state. Merry had been casting a few glances but was too polite to stare overmuch; but the little Took had now put down his spoon altogether to stare.
Aragorn moved on the log. His legs were stretched out before him, feet crossed at the ankles, and he moved them - and saw Pip start a little.
"Master Took, is the food to your liking?"
"Food is always to Pippins liking," Merry smirked. "What's up Pip? Cat got your tongue?"
Pip ducked his head for a moment but his bright eyes were soon up again, full of sharp curiosity. "I was wondering," he asked.
"Yes?" Aragorn prompted.
"About your feet."
Merry groaned. "Here it comes."
"Do you have hair on them?"
Aragorn contained his smile. "No - well not much."
"How much? And as you are so tall - how do you stay upright on them?"
"If you want any peace tonight you had better take your boots off and show him?" Frodo warned with a smile. "He can go on for hours once he gets an idea into his head. And I, for one, would like some sleep tonight."
Aragorn debated with himself and then reached down to draw off one of his boots.
Pippin leant forwards on the rock he was sitting on for a closer look. "They are furry!"
"Those are my socks."
"Socks!?!" Pippin looked as though Aragorn had said something very rude. "What are 'socks'?"
"Like mittens for your feet," Merry supplied. "You are being rude Pip."
"I'm just interested!" Pippin protested. "How am I going to learn anything if I am not interested?"
Aragorn had by now pulled off his rather grey sock and was fervently hoping his feet did not smell too awful.
"Ewww! Yeak!" Pip gasped, with the horrified fasination he usually greeted things fished up from the bottom of the compost heap. Then looked up. "Oh, I am sorry. But they are so pale. Can I touch one?"
Feeling decidedly uncomfortable but rather amused Aragorn stretched out his denuded foot for the Took's examination. Pip took the appendage in his hand, cupping the heel, and ran his other hand over the top of the foot. "Don't you get cold?"
"That is what the socks are for," Aragorn replied.
"Do you wear socks all the time - even at night in bed?"
"It depends upon where I am. In Rivendell I sometimes go barefoot when the weather is nice, and I usually sleep without anything on when I am there."
"Look Merry. They are so white."
"I can see, Pip," Merry was trying to sound older and knowledgeable but he was leaning over with his cousin.
Aragorn wiggled his toes and Pip giggled up at the Ranger. Truth to tell the small hand was tickling him in its exploration.
"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" Pip was all concern.
"No, but my feet are a bit sensitive."
"Your feet are ticklish?" Pip could not believe his pointed ears. "That must be terrible! Don't you die laughing every time you go for a walk?"
"Not usually," Aragorn smiled. "They are only sensitive when someone tickles them."
As the words left his mouth Aragorn realised he had probably just made the biggest mistake of his life. His fear was confirmed as Pip's face broke into the largest grin Aragorn had ever seen. He tried to pull his foot back but even a ranger's reflexes are nothing compared to those of a Took in search of mischief. The small hands instantly tightened their grip and little fingers began a maddening dance on his instep.
Aragorn gave out an undignified yelp, tried to jerk free his foot, found Merry, dignity forgotten, holding on to his leg and he came crashing down off his log and into a laughing pile of tickling hobbits.
"No! No!" was all he could gasp before he was robbed of his breath entirely. He tried to break their hold, or at least retaliate, but he really was extremely ticklish and the hobbits had very skilled fingers. In a trice he was missing his second boot and each foot had a hobbit apiece to torment it.
At last, sure he would asphyxiate under the attack, Aragorn was forced to use his greater strength to knock both hobbits over onto their backsides so he could leap up and retreat panting for breath. "Gentlemen, I plead mercy."
Merry and Pippin sat laughing next to each other on the ground. There was the most beautiful sound of light fairy laughter and Aragorn looked round. Frodo was sitting on a tree root, cheeks flushed and eyes bright and he was laughing unrestrainedly the most beautiful laugh Aragorn had ever heard.
end
The other four were all into their third helpings when Aragorn became aware that he was the subject of scrutiny. The younger hobbit, Pippin, had been giving the Ranger surreptitious glances all day and had now slowed down his eating to stare outright.
Aragorn shifted a little. He supposed the hobbit was just fascinated with seeing a Big Person as they called men. Frodo was too tired and stressed to take much notice, and Sam too concerned over his master's state. Merry had been casting a few glances but was too polite to stare overmuch; but the little Took had now put down his spoon altogether to stare.
Aragorn moved on the log. His legs were stretched out before him, feet crossed at the ankles, and he moved them - and saw Pip start a little.
"Master Took, is the food to your liking?"
"Food is always to Pippins liking," Merry smirked. "What's up Pip? Cat got your tongue?"
Pip ducked his head for a moment but his bright eyes were soon up again, full of sharp curiosity. "I was wondering," he asked.
"Yes?" Aragorn prompted.
"About your feet."
Merry groaned. "Here it comes."
"Do you have hair on them?"
Aragorn contained his smile. "No - well not much."
"How much? And as you are so tall - how do you stay upright on them?"
"If you want any peace tonight you had better take your boots off and show him?" Frodo warned with a smile. "He can go on for hours once he gets an idea into his head. And I, for one, would like some sleep tonight."
Aragorn debated with himself and then reached down to draw off one of his boots.
Pippin leant forwards on the rock he was sitting on for a closer look. "They are furry!"
"Those are my socks."
"Socks!?!" Pippin looked as though Aragorn had said something very rude. "What are 'socks'?"
"Like mittens for your feet," Merry supplied. "You are being rude Pip."
"I'm just interested!" Pippin protested. "How am I going to learn anything if I am not interested?"
Aragorn had by now pulled off his rather grey sock and was fervently hoping his feet did not smell too awful.
"Ewww! Yeak!" Pip gasped, with the horrified fasination he usually greeted things fished up from the bottom of the compost heap. Then looked up. "Oh, I am sorry. But they are so pale. Can I touch one?"
Feeling decidedly uncomfortable but rather amused Aragorn stretched out his denuded foot for the Took's examination. Pip took the appendage in his hand, cupping the heel, and ran his other hand over the top of the foot. "Don't you get cold?"
"That is what the socks are for," Aragorn replied.
"Do you wear socks all the time - even at night in bed?"
"It depends upon where I am. In Rivendell I sometimes go barefoot when the weather is nice, and I usually sleep without anything on when I am there."
"Look Merry. They are so white."
"I can see, Pip," Merry was trying to sound older and knowledgeable but he was leaning over with his cousin.
Aragorn wiggled his toes and Pip giggled up at the Ranger. Truth to tell the small hand was tickling him in its exploration.
"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" Pip was all concern.
"No, but my feet are a bit sensitive."
"Your feet are ticklish?" Pip could not believe his pointed ears. "That must be terrible! Don't you die laughing every time you go for a walk?"
"Not usually," Aragorn smiled. "They are only sensitive when someone tickles them."
As the words left his mouth Aragorn realised he had probably just made the biggest mistake of his life. His fear was confirmed as Pip's face broke into the largest grin Aragorn had ever seen. He tried to pull his foot back but even a ranger's reflexes are nothing compared to those of a Took in search of mischief. The small hands instantly tightened their grip and little fingers began a maddening dance on his instep.
Aragorn gave out an undignified yelp, tried to jerk free his foot, found Merry, dignity forgotten, holding on to his leg and he came crashing down off his log and into a laughing pile of tickling hobbits.
"No! No!" was all he could gasp before he was robbed of his breath entirely. He tried to break their hold, or at least retaliate, but he really was extremely ticklish and the hobbits had very skilled fingers. In a trice he was missing his second boot and each foot had a hobbit apiece to torment it.
At last, sure he would asphyxiate under the attack, Aragorn was forced to use his greater strength to knock both hobbits over onto their backsides so he could leap up and retreat panting for breath. "Gentlemen, I plead mercy."
Merry and Pippin sat laughing next to each other on the ground. There was the most beautiful sound of light fairy laughter and Aragorn looked round. Frodo was sitting on a tree root, cheeks flushed and eyes bright and he was laughing unrestrainedly the most beautiful laugh Aragorn had ever heard.
end
