Merry and Pippin were not disappointed in the matter of breakfast, and any displeasure at their tardiness was cast away by the nature of their attire.  “Was that agiggle I heard, O Queen?” said Pippin through a mouthful of bacon.  “I thought elves were too dignified for that.”

“I think it was more of a snort, Pippin,” Merry said.  “Noises of mirth are readily suppressed among the Elder Folk, but at times even they are caught off guard.”

“Goodness, no!  Haven’t you read Bilbo’s tales?”

“Ah, but you see, Pippin, there is just one problem with that: we are not Bilbo!”

A much heartier laugh came bubbling out from where Éowyn was seated.

Arwen took a measured sip of tea.  “You all must forgive me.  This whole endeavor rather brings me back to the days when I was young and my whole family was merry, though I do not think either of my brothers ever did anything so extreme as this…”  She was forced to stop speaking, for her self-control gave way and the Queen was given into hysterics.  Merry began to look concerned.

“I think we have an emergency on our hands.  She’s feeling the effects of mortality, Pippin!”

Pippin ran up and laid a hand on Arwen’s forehead.  “She’s not feverish, so she must not be delusional.  I do believe that her dry, elvish nature is disappearing fast, and we are the causes!  Éowyn, should we leave the room and wake up Strider?”

Éowyn thought a moment.  “I do not think that would be wise.  The very look of you two…” here she began to lose her self-control as well “…might send him into a severe… state of shock.  We cannot lose both our heads of state.”

“But then you and Faramir could hold a coup!” said Pippin.

“That’s quite enough of that,” said Arwen.  “I am not mad, though I imagine having you two around more often would push me nearer the brink.”

Merry and Pippin exchanged looks of mock injury.

“Nay, I was not expecting your… level of creativity in assisting us.  I pity those who will be given even less warning.”

“Don’t worry,” said Pippin.  “Frodo already knows.  We were banished from his presence,” he said woefully, “and that is part of what makes us late.”

“I hope that he is not—”

“I don’t think so,” said Merry.  “But if he doesn’t eat all those mushroom pasties I’d better get them.”

Arwen smiled to herself, divining the purpose of the two hobbits.  “I do not think you will have to worry about that.  Your plan may have done just the thing to help him.”