This was for Grey-wonderer's suggested Marigold's Challenge #28
every story had to have at least one nekid hobbit
my elements were a hedge and a flowerpot.

Hot Water

Pippin had discovered it shortly after returning to Minas Tirith from Cormallen. He had decided one morning that he really needed to explore the Citadel better since he was now a knight of the realm. it wouldn’t do at all for him to not be well acquainted with his home away from home. So in the early morning chill he had wandered about hitherto unexplored nooks and crannies of the King’s City.

A bird call made him look up and that’s when he saw the mist rising from behind a high wall. It had to be mist, he deduced, as he smelled no smoke smell nor any cooking smells. But what could be making a mist in the Citadel? Walls often have a way through them, he reasoned, and so he ducked through the hedge that grew along the wall, concealing its lower half. Yes, there it was, a small wooden door where the wall rounded in toward another part of the building. Now if he could only find a chink in the wood . . .

He found better. A flag stone had crumbled and a space had been eroded or dug under the door. Not much of a space. Just enough for a curious hobbit. It was a tight fit and Pippin was glad he wasn’t wearing his uniform as he really wouldn’t have wanted to try slithering through the gap in such finery . . . that and the belt would have caught on the door.

He stood to find himself in a garden; a rarity in the stone city. It wasn’t exactly unkempt, but neither was it well kept. The grass was longish. The roses and other flowering plants were all on the wild side of cultivated. There were some plants in large flowerpots, yet even those didn’t look very tended. But Pippin had little eye for such things, his interest lay in what was at the far end of the garden up against a spur of the mountain. The source of the mysterious mist was a steaming pool of water.

Pippin walked over to the pool, noting as he did so that there were no windows that overlooked the garden. The pool, or the water in it, was a lovely shade of blue. In the cool of the morning he could feel the heat rising from its surface. He bent down to touch it. It was hot. It was like a bath should be. As he realized this he noticed, over to his left, shallow steps leading into the pool. A smile bloomed on his face - it was meant to be got into.

That was several weeks ago and now it was a regular part of Pippin’s life to go to his pool for a dip on early mornings when he wasn’t on duty. He had meant to tell Merry, but the time had just never been right. There was no way in Middle-earth that he was going to tell Frodo or Sam. They would both say it had to be someone’s garden, someone else’s pool of hot water, and that he had no business sneaking in there. So it was that this morning, like all the others, he was alone in his pond sized bath. He only needed to use the gap beneath the door to enter the garden, he was able to reach the latch and use the door to leave without getting all dirty after his swim. But the latch was the sort that locked when the door closed so he still had to use the gap to get in. He thought leaving the door even slightly propped open might give it away. As of yet, no one was the wiser to where he went in the early hours of his off days.

He had just popped to the surface after swimming the width of the pool underwater, when he heard a dog growling. It wasn’t hard to locate the dog. It was over by his shirt and breeches, snuffling and growling as it pawed at the garments. Before Pippin even had time to do anything to chase the dog off, it picked up his clothes, glared at him in a most menacing manor, and headed straight for the door. It disappeared, with a wag of its tail, out Pippin’s gap. Those clothes were all he wore to and from his clandestine swims.

Pippin stood in the pool wondering what he was going to do now when another noise, a soft noise, came to his alert ears; the snick of a door closing. He turned toward where the garden backed to a building.

“NO!” he hollered.

Queen Arwen had nearly dropped her robe, not having noticed she had a visitor in her bathing pool. As it was, the robe slipped quite far down her right, ivory skinned shoulder as she grabbed it tighter around her chest and waist.

“Who? . . . Peregrin?”

His red face had nothing to do with the temperature of the water surrounding him. He lowered his eyes while fervently hoping her Elf eyes couldn’t see well through the surface of the water.

“Yes, milady.”

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“I . . . eh . . . I . . . where is here, your majesty?”

“My private garden.” A wry smile came to her lips. “Or so I was told. Apparently my maid was mistaken.”

“I’m sure it is usually, eh . . . meant to be, ah, your private garden, milady. I, um . . . well there has never been any one . . . it has always looked . . .” It was only now that he noticed that the garden had been tended. The roses had been pruned. The grass had been closely clipped. There were new arrangements of flowers in the flowerpots. His last visit had been last week, before Queen Arwen’s arrival and wedding. In preparation for her new position in the court her private chambers and garden had been made ready. “It didn’t look this nice before,” Pippin lamely finished.

“I will return to my chambers for a few moments, Sir Peregrin, and allow you to get dressed and leave.” Arwen paused a moment. “You never have said how you got in here.”

“Under the door in the wall, yonder,” Pippin waved his hand in the general direction of the door. Though, why there is a door into your private garden that leads out to the road beyond the wall I don’t quite understand.”

Arwen’s smile grew. “So those who tend the garden do not need to come through my quarters to do their work, Sir Hobbit.”

“Oh! Yes, that does make sense. But, your highness, there is a problem. I found that I’m not the only one able to fit under the door. A dog entered today after I was in the pool and, well . . .” The hobbit’s blush grew deeper. “He took my shirt and breeches when he left.”

“A moment then, Peregrin.” The Queen went back inside to return with a towel that looked nearly the size of a blanket. She set it on the bench beside the steps into the pool. “This will cover your needs, I’m certain,” she said with a sly grin and a bit of a chuckle. “Shall I have the Citadel Guard be looking for a dog wearing a shirt and breeches?”

“No, thank you all the same, milady. The mangy beast merely carried my garments away. He didn’t take the time to put them on.” Pippin smiled at his Queen’s jest.

With a graceful nod of her head the Queen of Gondor left the garden to give her knight time to exit the pool, cover himself and leave.

Pippin walked through the streets with his head held high, hoping this would discourage any undesirable questions. He was fortunate that there were not many people yet abroad and that his route only took him on one main street, and that only for a block.

He was not so lucky when he entered the house he shared with the rest of the Fellowship. Pippin had hoped no one would be in the kitchen yet, but those hopes were dashed. His cousins and Sam were all sitting around the kitchen table in the midst of a wonderful looking first breakfast. Merry was sitting at the end of the table nearest the door, Sam in the middle not far from the stove, Frodo was nearest the door out.

“Pippin? What on earth are you wearing?” Merry asked as Pippin started to hurry past wrapped in the blanket sized towel.

The youngest hobbit paused. “It was a bit chilly this morning when I got up and I was too lazy to find my cloak. I just grabbed the blanket off my bed. I’ll just go put it back and join you all.” Pippin kept his head high and walked as quickly as he could without chancing tripping on the towel.

It was a good lie. He had worked it up in his head while scurrying home. They would believe it because Merry and Frodo often chided Pippin for being lazy.

He might have got away with it . . .

except for Frodo quickly stepping on Pippin’s trailing towel as he went past.