AN - I still own nothing that appears in here.
"Sam needs another breather!" Frodo shouted up the line.
"Again? It will take us a lifetime at this rate to even cross the mountains!" Boromir bellowed.
"We need to stop for lunch anyway," Gandalf said grumpily. Sam instantly sprung upright from where he had been sprawled wheezing on the path.
"Won't take me long to rustle something up," he said happily and began to pull odds and sods from Bill's pack.
Before long, an entire leg of lamb was turning on a spit roast. Sam had put the finishing touches to the potato salad and coleslaw and was now preparing a dressing to go with the salad. Frodo sat next to his friend.
"You seem to have an awful lot of pots, Sam," he noted. Sam looked around at the stacks of cookware.
"Not really, Mr Frodo. Just the bare necessities. Crepe pan, sauteuse, sautoir, rondeau, roasting tin, steamer, frying pan, wok, bread tin, colander, baking tin, baking tray, cupcake tray-"
"Cupcakes! Sam, when were you expecting to make cupcakes?" Aragorn couldn't help but ask. Sam blushed heavily.
"In case it were someone's birthday. Mr Pippin is very partial to a cupcake on his birthday," he replied.
"I love me a vanilla cupcake!" Pippin agreed.
"Hang on!" Sam yelled. He clumsily leapt to his feet, his face stark white. "We have to go back to Rivendell."
"Why? What is wrong?" Galabríawenúthien called from where she was platonically snuggling into Leggy's lap.
"My garlic press!" Sam said dramatically. "I refuse to go a step further without my garlic press!"
"Can't you use the flat of a knife?" Boromir suggested. Sam's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"I could. If you were wanting to ruin the flavour of the dish! Besides, the garlic press is part of the set!" he said with horror.
"The set?" Aragorn asked.
"The set!" Sam insisted, waving a hand over his cookware. "All these belong to the NIKEA Äwoöglefruķell kitchen set! Perfect for both preparing food for guests and fighting off enemies that invade your Hobbit-hole! All of the Shire shops at NIKEA!"
The other three Hobbits nodded agreement. "Very affordable stuff at NIKEA. But don't buy the flat-pack furniture, they never include enough screws," Merry said.
"So, are we going back to Rivendell for my garlic press?" Sam asked with a demented look in his eye.
"No! Ruin the flavour of the dish if you have to but we are not trekking all the way back to Rivendell for a stupid garlic press!" Gandalf commanded.
Sam pouted but poured the dressing over the salad. "Food is ready," he said.
As everyone helped themselves to food, Gimli turned to Gandalf.
"Ihmmhmm nak mmh, mee uhin uh ong ay uuhnn!" he said.
"Why do you care about our direction? Are you a girl?" Boromir snarled. Galabríawenúthien's head snapped round, catching Pippin full across the face with her hair. As the Hobbit collapsed, her eyes narrowed.
"Is there something wrong with a woman's sense of direction?" she asked icily.
"Aye. Women couldn't find their wardrobes with a map," he replied. "And shut your trap, I'm sick of hearing you gabbing on!"
Galabríawenúthien burst into very noisy tears. Instantly Leggy had gathered her into his arms and glared over at Boromir.
"How could you say such a thing to a delicate creature like this lady, you pig!" he exclaimed. Merry and Frodo joined them and started to stroke Galabríawenúthien's hair comfortingly.
"Prettyful butterflies, prettyful butterflies..." Pippin twittered from where he was lying on the ground.
"Clearly Boromir has never been in Hobbiton on the day of the NIKEA Yuletide sale," Sam said.
Gandalf rolled his eyes and dug through his pack for his pipe. As he straightened up, he saw a cloud on the horizon.
"Whuh umph ha?" Gimli asked. "Huh huh clou?"
"It's moving fast, against the wind," Boromir said.
"Crebain!" Leggy and Galabríawenúthien shouted together.
"Hide!" Gandalf commanded.
"What about Pippin?" Aragorn called.
"Oh, put a cloak over him or something!" Gandalf said dismissively.
"Prettyful butterflies, prettyful butterflies!" Pippin cooed as Aragorn covered him with a cloak. The rest of the Fellowship hid under some scrubby bushes. The one Galabríawenúthien and Leggy were platonically clinging to each other underneath, magically became a rosebush and burst into full, sweet-scented bloom.
A group of crebain circled the hilltop and two fluttered down to land on the heap that was Pippin. In their claws they were each clutching a large, brown, hairy sphere that was almost as big as themselves.
"Qu'est-ce c'est?" one asked, eyeing the remains of Sam's food.
"C'est la salade de chou."
"Quoi?"
"Coleslaw."
"Ah, bien sur!"
"Prettyful butterflies..."
"Qu'est-ce c'est!?"
"Je ne sais pas! Le vent, peut-être?"
They took off. One of the brown spheres slipped from their grasp and went bouncing away into Gimli's bush.
"Ooh. Coconut," emanated from the bush, followed by a crunching noise. The Fellowship climbed out of their respective scrub/rosebushes.
"They will take news of us to Saruman. We must be many leagues from here when he finds out where we are," Gandalf said.
"They are carrying coconuts, will that make them fly slower?" Merry said.
"Well, I don't know. What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen craban?" Leggy asked.
"Mmmhmphan mmh oohoohan?" Gimli asked.
"Yes, of course, Gimli. One must factor that in," Boromir agreed.
"Why are the crebain carrying coconuts?! What is a coconut anyway!" Gandalf snapped.
"Let's just get moving!" Aragorn said quickly.
"Prettyful butterflies..."
Mirkwood, at last! Glorfindel slowed Asfaloth and patted him on his neck. They had ridden night and day across Rohan to reach the forest. Now all that was left to do was locate Radagast. Mithrandir had given him some rough directions as to where the Brown Wizard could be found.
The forest felt wrong. Evil was at work here, Glorfindel could tell. A group of bug-eyed baby rabbits were playing idly in the path, a few deer chewing grass in a dell to his left. It was all far too... cutesy.
"LETHARGIC SLOTH HANGS FROM TREE!" a voice screeched through the trees. Oh dear.
Glorfindel spurred Asfaloth forward and they charged in the direction of the voice. As they burst into a clearing, Glorfindel pulled Asfaloth to a halt and shut his eyes very tightly.
Did the Maiar have genitalia?
Radagast, stark naked and standing on his head in the middle of the clearing, most certainly did. His upside-down expression was one of intense concentration and he did not seem to notice the appearance of the horse and Elf-lord.
"ANGRY LLAMA ATOP A MOUNTAIN!" he bellowed and flipped onto his feet. He placed his palms together and stretched them above his head, balancing on one foot with an expression that could singe hair.
"Radagast?" Glorfindel asked tentatively.
"FRIVOLOUS CHICKEN PECKS CORN!" the Wizard continued and started to flap his arms and bob his head.
"Radagast, please," Glorfindel said as he dismounted.
"DELICATE ELEPHANT DANCES THE SALSA!" Radagast boomed and began to strut about. He spun on the spot and then whistled. A group of birds fluttered down with a robe of moss-green and draped it around Radagast. Actually, on closer inspection, the robe was made of a mix of moss and lichen.
"Welcome, Elf-Lord, to Radagast's Woodland Retreat. Here, you shall detox and cleanse your soul. Together let us embark on a journey of self-discovery, with only oxygen and the finest mushrooms and coconuts to sustain us!" he intoned. A squirrel dropped a mushroom into his waiting hand and he ripped a great chunk of it off with his teeth. He chewed it, a most maniac expression on his face.
Glorfindel watched as the Wizard's eyes slowly crossed and he keeled over backwards, frothing at the mouth.
"The finest mushrooms?" Glorfindel repeated. He mounted Asfaloth again and left Radagast bubbling to himself.
The Fellowship, Elrond, Saruman and now Radagast. They were running out of allies quickly.
He paused. This part of Mirkwood looked more like it was supposed to. His keen hearing picked up a sound behind him.
"Your stare was holdin'"
Orcs! Asfaloth charged forwards, desperately attempting to bear them away.
"Ripped robes, skin was showin'"
They seemed to be all around, he didn't know if he could get away.
"Dark night, wind was blowing,"
He burst into another clearing, saw the amassed ranks of grinning, shimmying Orcs, and knew he was lost.
"WHERE D'YA THINK YOU'RE GOING BABY?!"
Oh dear, poor Glorfindel. This time I am giving coconuts for a correct derivation of NIKEA, that most famous of Hobbit shops.
I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts, di di di di.
The coconuts will make a reappearance at some point. You gotta love a coconut.
Extra coconuts to anyone who gets the massive reference I gave to some comedy geniuses. Genii? Meh, who cares. Have a coconut. *lobs*