Disclaimer: I don’t own them and I’ll put them back when I’m done!

Author’s Note: Just a short chapter today, because I will admit to being stymied when it comes to Aragorn’s next prank. If any of you have suggestions, please let me know!

Chapter Four: Warnings

“Really, Aragorn, don’t you think this is going a bit far? They’re only hobbits.”

“Legolas, I defy you to act rationally and then not defend your honor after having a snake put in your bath!”

Legolas had to concede that point. He could not stand snakes, and knew that he would have been just as eager to deal out punishment as Aragorn was had he been in the man’s place.

They were sitting on the floor in Aragorn’s room with the curtains drawn, making battle plans. Aragorn had quite a list of ideas for getting back at the hobbits, all of them quite intricate. Legolas was endeavoring to keep some semblance of sanity in the situation, seeing as some of the plots were quite horrible. Itching powder in the hobbits’ smallclothes, for instance, set his teeth on edge.

“Try something harmless and embarrassing,” he advised. “Something that will not actually hurt them.”

Aragorn sighed. “I suppose leaving blue dye in their baths is out of the question, then.”

Legolas rolled his eyes and sighed.

*****

“Can you see anything?”

“Nothing,” Merry replied grimly. “He’s up to something. Be very careful with your food tonight, Pip.”

Pippin nodded, and Merry closed the small spyglass with a snap. Aragorn’s curtains were firmly shut, without the smallest crack in them to let him see through. That could only mean that the man was planning something devious. Hopefully, it would not come at dinner that evening. There was only so much excitement they could handle in one day.

Dinner that evening was as excellent as usual. Frodo joined them in the dining hall, a change of scene from taking his meals in his room. It was a lively company, too. The man from Gondor, Boromir, joined the hobbits, sitting at their table rather bashfully. They had not yet met, not really, and introductions were swiftly made.

“Have you met Strider, yet, Boromir?” Pippin asked, leaning forward eagerly.

Boromir felt curiosity brush him; the hobbit looked as though he were sizing him up. “I have met Aragorn, yes. He seems like a good companion.”

Merry waved a hand. “He is nice. I can fault his sense of direction, though. He seems to like slogging through marshes as opposed to nice dry pathways.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Boromir said cautiously, storing away that remark in his memory. It might be good to know about the future King.

Frodo had been following the conversation silently, often trading dry looks with Sam. The gardener looked like he really did not want to know what the lads were up to, and worried about Boromir. Now, Frodo reached for the gravy boat and liberally poured gravy onto his steamed potatoes.

“I hear there was a debacle in the bathhouse today, lads,” he remarked casually. “Something about a snake?”

Merry blanched, and Pippin choked on his drink. Frodo fixed them with a penetrating stare. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain spice being in your tea this afternoon, would it?” he inquired. The younger lads traded a panicked look. Frodo continued, implacable. “I can only imagine what sort of horrible thing must be happening to whoever let that snake in. Do you think that Elves deal in hot irons, Lord Boromir? Or perhaps they simply take rascals out of the valley and let the wolves get them. I don’t think that’s worthy of them, though, nor any of the Dunedain. I suppose whatever retribution comes will be much more subtle.”

Here, Frodo looked up at his cousins and gave them a grim, almost ghoulish smile. They gazed back at him sickly, looking terrified.

“I doubt that anybody will be punished,” Boromir said quickly, seeing their faces. “Sometimes, small creatures get inside. It happens, Master Frodo.”

Frodo nodded, conceding that point. Still, he could tell that he had sufficiently scared Merry and Pippin silly. Whatever was going on with Aragorn, it had to stop.

Feeling slightly ill, and in no mood for the succulent roast turkey on the plate before him, Merry stood up and edged away from the table.

“Well, we had better go, eh, Pip?” he said, smiling sickly at Frodo and Boromir. “Enjoy dinner, both of you. We’ll see you later.”

And grabbing Pippin’s sleeve, Merry hurried out of the dining hall. Boromir gazed after them, perturbed.

“May I ask what that was about?” he asked Frodo.

The hobbit grinned. “Just thought I’d give them a warning, Boromir. I saw Aragorn preparing something that cannot be good. It won’t hurt them, but it may teach them a lesson. If, of course, their honor is not so affronted that they retaliate. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Boromir frowned, obviously confused. “If you say so,” he said dubiously.

*****

From his place at the high table, Aragorn chuckled to himself. This was going to be excellent.

TBC