A Short Cut to Mushrooms

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a hobbit in possession of a large supply of mushrooms must be in want of a dining companion or two.

“You've got an awful lot of mushrooms there, Frodo,” Merry ventured, his eyes straying to the overstuffed basket at the center of the table. “Do you need any help eating, I mean, cleaning, them?”

“I’m managing quite well, thank you,” Frodo replied quickly. He slid the basket away from the pair of tiny, grubby hands creeping slowly across the table. “May I help you, Pippin?”

Pippin hid his hands behind his back and smiled sweetly at his cousin. “I was just looking.”

“Right.” Frodo felt a presence over his shoulder, and whirled around to see Merry setting three plates on the table. “What are you doing?”

Merry paused in mid-motion, a dish hovering in the air just inches above the table. “Oh, that’s right,” he said, glancing through the window with a grin. “Sam needs a plate, too!”

Turning again, Frodo saw Sam standing outside the window with a sheepishly hungry expression upon his face. 

Frodo relinquished the basket, causing his cousins to squeal with joy and wildly gesture for Sam to come inside and join them. Immediately, Sam went to work cleaning the mushrooms, which Merry and Pippin divided with the care that one would normally devote to counting gold.

Frodo smiled to himself as he watched. He was more than willing to sacrifice a few mushrooms for those he loved best.