Title: Silent Night - Part 1
Written as Christmas present for Shirebound who wanted grateful hobbits in Rivendell.
Disclaimer: Don't own them. Never have, never will. Don't make any money either, so there!

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All was calm in the valley of Rivendell. The starlight was twinkling like the flickering of far-off candles. The snow glittered under the moonlight like tiny jewels as it fell in lazy swirls outside a window, a window into a world of tranquility, a picture of domestic bliss. The necessities of creature comforts were in abundance; a crackling fire to toast their toes, plush chairs and plump cushions to sit upon.

A veil of smoke hung in the air as Frodo and Bilbo sat by the fire, enjoying their pipes, reading and telling stories. Sam was nearby, listening and mending some of his master's things before their journey. The cousins Merry and Pippin were sitting over in the corner talking quietly. Some might even call it whispering, and no good ever came of it when that happened. The peacefulness of Frodo was deceiving though, for he knew to be on alert when his cousins went still

"He saved Frodo's life, we need to do something for him. Tomorrow is Yule."

"We could make him some biscuits like Mother -"

"No." The quick denial from in front of the fire let them know that Frodo was keenly aware of what was being discussed. "You do remember the last time you set foot in a kitchen, don't you? Has Cook forgiven you yet?"

"Um, no. Not yet," ... there was a moment of quiet, then the whispers started again.

"I know, we could mix up a batch of-"

"No."

"But-"

"The explosion?"

"Oh, right..."

"What about-"

"The taffy." Frodo coldly said this last with barely controlled fury. "No. The way your good intentions turn out you'll likely burn down Rivendell or leave it in ruins. You cause less destruction when you are intent on making mischief! You've run Lord Elrond ragged with your schemes and plots, no matter how well-meaning they were. If you really want to please him, I would suggest you remain in your rooms, bound and gagged, for the duration of the holiday.

"But Frodo-" Pippin whined

Frodo finally turned from the fire to glare at them, the swollen black eye he sported from their latest escapade a scathing testament to their plans.

"Er, perhaps you do have a point, cousin..."

-TBC-

A/N: The incidents Frodo alludes to are taken from the wonderful work of Budgielover, whose stories can be found at and Stories of Arda.

Home Cooking Hobbit Style

Bribery and Blackmail

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