Spoons, a Breakfast Tale
Rating: G
By: Just Jen this time
Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR, or any of the characters.
Note: this story stemmed from a mailing list discussion about spoons and sporks. This is the re-write, since I lost the first version ( anyway, enjoy. Also, this story takes places when Aragorn still lived with Elrond, as a young man, perhaps in his late teens. For those of you who don't know, Estel is one of Aragorn's many names, given to him by Elrond to conceal his identity from him.
Lord Elrond of Rivendell sat alert at breakfast, eyeing the breadbasket placed innocently on the table. He glanced furtively between Elladan, Elrohir, and the young man seated across from them. Elves didn't need to eat as often or as much as their human counterparts, but the twins certainly didn't agree. They could, and often did, out-eat the burly visitors to the last homely house, and were capable of clearing out one of the pantries when returning from long trips.
And so, the Elven lord, who had lived longer than memory, descendant of Eärendil, was incredibly wary of the lonely last roll in the breadbasket. He was trying to figure out a discreet way to remove the threatening breadstuff, he couldn't just lunge across the table, when his sons, as only the twins could, raised their heads in perfect synchronization, and asked.
"Pass the roll, Estel."
The identical elves looked at each other, eyes opened wide, back to the last roll, then back, this time glaring. Elrond stiffened, fork frozen halfway to his mouth. His eyes flicked from his sons to rest on the young ranger who was looking increasingly nervous. Elladan broke the silence.
"Pass the roll, Estel."
Elrohir growled, a deep sound from his throat. "Nay, brother, pass it here."
Elladan scowled deeper. "I'm the elder twin, it's my…my birthright!"
"Birthright, brother? To a biscuit?"
"It's a roll," Aragorn piped up from his seat across the table, and quickly shut up after Elrohir shot him a glare. Elladan, on the other hand, quickly reverted to bribery.
"Give me the roll, and I'll take you hunting"
Elrohir was quick to follow.
"I'll groom and feed your horse."
"I'll let you win when we spar."
"I'll buy you….something."
"I'll buy you anything!"
Aragorn's eyes followed his foster brothers, darting back and forth. He was trying desperately to figure out if he was being bribed or threatened. Suddenly, Elrohir grabbed one of the large ornate spoons at the table and smacked Elladan on the back of the hand.
"OW! What are you-"
Elladan was cut off as he was once again struck with the spoon. They weren't sharp like the knives sitting beside them, but they were heavy and hard. Suddenly the twins became engrossed in their battle, darting back and forth, trying to land solid smacks. Elladan smacked his brother on the forehead, which was followed by a spoon being shoved between his lips and teeth into his mouth. Startled, he smacked his twin between the eyes.
Elrond and Aragorn continued to watch, shocked, and not knowing what to do. Suddenly, Elladan gave Elrohir a sturdy smack to the wrist, and his spoon fell from his hand.
"HA! Now, Estel, give me that-"
Elladan stopped mid-sentence. Aragorn had reached, snake-like, across the table and grabbed the roll, shoving the whole thing into his mouth. Identical jaws dropped, watching the ranger chew what they had fought so hard for. Elrond glanced between his sons, foster and elven, then, unable to control himself, gave a loud snort and collapsed into laughter. The twins and Aragorn glanced at the man they called father, totally at a loss for words. The Elven lord laid his head in his arms on the table, lost in helpless giggles. When the serving maid entered the room, she was shocked to see her master in hysterical mirth, so she decided to set the new breadbasket down quickly and leave the room. Which, of course, only made the elf laugh even louder as his sons continued to stare in disbelief.