It had been a poor harvest, and the heat was oppressive. Two hobbits and a tall man sat in the shade of a tree and gazed glumly at the field before them. It was a poor and sorry sight, the crops were withered and brown, the stalks stunted and the leaves shrivelled and mottled with holes.

The man looked at his two companions amazed at their uncharacteristic silence, a situation so unusual that for a moment it blotted out all other concerns.

"I just don't understand it, I have never seen anything like this before, I'm sure I followed Sam's instructions to the letter. This should have been the perfect spot," said Merry, pulling fretfully at the parched specimen in his hand.

"Well, this is hardly going to make our - sorry, Gondor's fortunes," said Pippin, hoping desperately that the man hadn't noticed his slip.

"Indeed, Master Took, this appears to fall short of your earlier promises and it becomes apparent that Gondor's coffers will have to pay for this fiasco. I went out on a limb for you over this and it is hardly going to enhance my reputation, is it?” The oppressive, sultry heat was doing nothing for the man’s mood and he scowled at his companions.

“Oh, for goodness sake pass me the wine, a hobbit could die of thirst in this heat,” said Pippin irritably, for the day was indeed warm, though the clouds held a promise of rain later.

They passed the wine skin between them and shared out the rather pathetic remains of a picnic from the depths of Pippin’s knapsack. A distant rumble of thunder barely registered as the three friends lay back in the shade and watched the heavy roiling clouds build up overhead.

“Do you think he meant it?” asked Merry quietly, voicing the concern that troubled all three companions.

“I’m sure he will have calmed down by now,” said Pip. “After all he isn’t one to hold a grudge, is he?”

“That, my young Hobbit, is hard to tell, for in truth I have never seen him so angry. I think we had better send you in first as our emissary. If you roll your eyes and give him that winning Took smile he will surely forget his anger and forgive you…us.”

“And what about his proclamation, will he forget that, do you think.” Merry pulled fretfully at the edge of his cloak as the first large raindrop splattered onto his nose.

“He spoke in anger, Merry, I’m sure that Arwen will get him to see sense. After all, the banquet tonight was supposed to be in your honour…he can hardly banish you from your own celebration.”

Pippin pulled his cloak from his pack as the rain started to fall more heavily. He started to giggle.

“This is no time for levity Pippin,” said Merry crossly. “We are in big trouble.”

“I was just thinking, he did look rather splendid in a temper, didn’t he! Eyes flashing, hair flying in all directions, face flushed.”

“Well it certainly got Arwen and Éowyn's attention, I’ve never seen them so attentive” Merry joined in the giggling at the look on the man’s face and the two Hobbits were soon convulsed.

“This is no joke, your reprobates, you may find this amusing but I do not. I was looking forward to a sociable evening in the relaxed company of friends. But no, I find myself stuck in the pouring rain, no supper, an empty wine flask and two soused Hobbits for company and on top of that I’ve been BANISHED!”

“I think our friend is a little miffed,” snickered Pippin.

“Actually I was going to ask you about that,” said Merry, trying very hard to keep a straight face, “is he allowed to banish you?”

“Did you see the rather lethal looking knife he had in his hand at the time, not to mention the armed guards. I didn’t think it prudent to argue with him while he was in such a mood,” said the man defensively.

“Chicken,” chorused the two Hobbits in unison.

The rain continued to pour down and the friends were soon drenched, they huddled together beneath their cloaks.

“Merry, I’m hungry.”

“Shut up Pippin, we are all hungry and cold and tired and more than a little hacked off. You do realise that this is entirely your fault, you should never have tried to deceive him.”

“I’ll have you know I did everything properly. I sought the King’s consent and he said I was to take up the matter with the Prince directly, which I did. He even pointed out which land would be most suitable for cultivation and offered the services of his labourers to attend the fields.”

“So why was he so angry?”

“I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding! You two are unbelievable….”

“Don’t you go getting all high and mighty. I didn’t see you letting him in on all the pertinent facts; this venture was as much in your interest as in ours.”

“I was merely keeping my options open, it’s called diplomacy!” said the man haughtily.

“I’d give any thing for a smoke right now,” whined Pippin. “Do you think the feast has started yet?” Merry suddenly let out a snort of laughter, within minutes he was again convulsed on the ground, completely unable to speak. “What’s so funny,” asked Pippin.

Merry leaned over and whispered in his ear, “We should have set light to the crops!” This innocent sounding suggestion had the smaller Hobbit prostrate with mirth. The man looked on helplessly, bewilderment and a touch of exasperation in his gaze. Any further conversation was drowned out by the sound of approaching hoof beats. A tall cloaked Ranger slipped from the saddle.

“Sire, I bring a message from Prince Legolas.” Faramir bowed and handed over the parchment. The King glanced at the contents and chuckled, before reading the contents out loud.

Sire,

Of all the underhand, two timing schemes you have ever come up with, this takes the biscuit! I cannot believe that you stooped so low as to be a party to this blatant attempt at deception. I thought I could rely on the many years of friendship we have shared to protect me from this malicious exploitation. How sadly was I mistaken?

You may tell ‘your’ Hobbit friends that I expect a full and cringe-worthy apology from you all in front of my entire household before I will consider welcoming any of you back into ‘My’ realm. If these terms are acceptable to you, you may rejoin the gathering and I will do my best to avoid any bloodshed! However, I would like to point out that the concoction used to wither your ‘crop’ has equally powerful side effects on men and Hobbits - you have been warned.

Your ever-so humble servant.

Legolas.

***

“He destroyed it! How could he, after all our hard work and expense.”

“Shut up Pippin,” said the King and Merry together. “Besides,” continued the King rather waspishly, “I provided the finance and Legolas provided the labour.”

“That’s beside the point,” whined Pippin

“Well Faramir, is it safe to return do you think?” the King asked with a rather soggy and soulful grin.

“I am sworn to protect you, Sire, though I’d rather not see the business end of that blade Legolas was wielding earlier. If I might ask though, why exactly was he so angry?”

“Total over-reaction” stated Pippin, not giving the King a chance to answer. “Merry and I simply wanted to offer Gondor the opportunity to sample the benefits of Sam’s latest attempts to improve crop yields. See down there at the bottom of the field? Cabbages, peas, carrots, wheat, all manner of crops to feed the hungry populace of Gondor. We were doing him a favour.”

“Am I missing something here, Sire?” said the Steward with a puzzled expression. “And what about this crop, it doesn’t look too healthy.”

“No, this is the one Legolas destroyed. I’ll explain about that later. Let’s get out of here before we all catch our deaths.” The King pulled the two soggy Hobbits to their feet and propelled them down the hill in the direction of the Elven settlement. Faramir and the King followed behind on foot, leading the Steward’s horse.

“PIPEWEED!” The horrified voice of the Steward rang through the wet, darkness. “You were growing Pipeweed! No wonder he was spitting feathers, he’s even banned Gimli from smoking that stuff in his domain and you had the nerve to grow it in his back yard…under his nose! I think if I were in your shoes I’d be thinking up a really good reason to be in Rohan right now.

“Hobbits don’t wear shoes, Faramir, as you well know,” said Merry with exaggerated patience. “And besides, we’re sending in our special emissary to soften him up so that ‘The King’ can make his grovelling apology.”