LOTR Ficlet: Sensitivities
Jul. 14th, 2008 12:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
martasficTitle: Sensitivities
Summary: In which Nob makes a mistake and worries about the consequences. Even in Middle-earth, they must have had food allergies.
Word Count: 559 + Notes
Characters: Nob, Bob
Timeline: pre-Quest, bookverse
Rating: General
Warnings: none
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
just_ann_now
Notes: Written formrowe, who requested "hobbits, cheese, disaster".
****************************
Nob sat on the floor, his back against the wall opposite the door leading to the guestroom. The healer had been with the dwarf quite a while - how long he couldn't say, for he didn't own a watch, but it seemed like hours - and the waiting was like to drive him mad with worry.
He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and soon saw Bob making his way down the corridor. He smiled congenially and took his seat on the floor beside Nob.
"You smell of horse," Nob said to the stable-boy, thankful for any excuse not to think of what was happening beyond the closed door. "Could you not at least have washed your face and hands?"
Bob picked a piece of straw from his hair and flicked it into Nob's face. "Is there no news?"
"Do you think I'd be sitting here if there was aught I could do?" Nob snapped. Bob looked a bit taken aback, but he nodded slowly. Let that teach him not to ask foolish questions of someone who has want of answers himself, Nob thought bitterly to himself.
After a moment, Nob looked at Bob again and saw the concerned look on his friend's face. "Your pardon, Bob," he said, his voice sounding weary even to his own ears. "I don't know much more than you. I served him his evening meal, much the same as everyone else's, but when I went to clear the dishes his stomach rumbled something fierce. And not long after he retched into the chamber pot; that's when old Barliman sent for the healer. But I don't understand, for he ate much the same food as all the other guests, and none of them took ill."
"Much the same?" Bob asked. "What was different?"
Nob thought on that. "Let's see. They had beer from the normal tap, potatoes, greens, and mutton as Mistress Butterbur made for the whole house...." Nob's eyes grew a bit wide as a thought occurred to him. "And the stew. I hadn't thought of that before."
Mistress Butterbur had made a pot of stew especially for some of the wandering rangers. Potatoes and broth with a bit of cheese and bacon added for taste. That Strider had taught her how to make it, and the mistress often made it special when his folk came to the Pony - they paid well for a taste that reminded them of home. "I thought he might like it, seeing as he's traveling with those rangers," Nob said after a moment, "and mayhap he'd set aside a coin or two for me come morning."
"Well, there's your answer, Nob!" Bob laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. "Some folk can't eat certain foods. Sis was like that with some nuts."
Nob felt his eyes grow wide with fear. "Didn't your sister die some years back?"
"Aye," Bob answered, "but from drowning. Nuts would make her lips tingle and swell, and they'd make her eyes water something fierce, but she never took serious hurt from it." Bob stood up and pulled Nob to his feet. "Come on, let's go find Mistress Butterbur. There's a tea my mum found that settled her stomach, so Sis could sleep it off. She'd be right again by morning."
At that news, Nob smiled with relief and followed Bob down the stairs.
****************************
Notes:
Nob and Bob are canonical characters, albeit minor ones. If you don't recognize them, Nob is the "hobbit servant" who sees after Merry, Pippin, Frodo and Sam at the Prancing Pony; and Bob is the one who's told to make room in the stables for their ponies.
I imagine this to be from the early days of Nob's service at the Pony, when he was still green enough to make mistakes like this. No exact date in mind.
One factoid that didn't quite make it into the story was that the guest in question is a dwarf travelling between the Blue Mountains and the Lonely Mountain. (It seems reasonable to me that Rangers could serve as mercenaries and guards, to raise money to support their people.) My thinking was, dwarves live in the mountains and might not have been able to keep cattle (who need more pasture), so a dwarf might be more used to goat cheese. Therefore being fed cheese made from cow's milk could quite reasonably mess up someone who was allergic to cow's milk, or even was just lactose intolerant.
Summary: In which Nob makes a mistake and worries about the consequences. Even in Middle-earth, they must have had food allergies.
Word Count: 559 + Notes
Characters: Nob, Bob
Timeline: pre-Quest, bookverse
Rating: General
Warnings: none
Beta:
just_ann_nowNotes: Written for
mrowe, who requested "hobbits, cheese, disaster".****************************
Nob sat on the floor, his back against the wall opposite the door leading to the guestroom. The healer had been with the dwarf quite a while - how long he couldn't say, for he didn't own a watch, but it seemed like hours - and the waiting was like to drive him mad with worry.
He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and soon saw Bob making his way down the corridor. He smiled congenially and took his seat on the floor beside Nob.
"You smell of horse," Nob said to the stable-boy, thankful for any excuse not to think of what was happening beyond the closed door. "Could you not at least have washed your face and hands?"
Bob picked a piece of straw from his hair and flicked it into Nob's face. "Is there no news?"
"Do you think I'd be sitting here if there was aught I could do?" Nob snapped. Bob looked a bit taken aback, but he nodded slowly. Let that teach him not to ask foolish questions of someone who has want of answers himself, Nob thought bitterly to himself.
After a moment, Nob looked at Bob again and saw the concerned look on his friend's face. "Your pardon, Bob," he said, his voice sounding weary even to his own ears. "I don't know much more than you. I served him his evening meal, much the same as everyone else's, but when I went to clear the dishes his stomach rumbled something fierce. And not long after he retched into the chamber pot; that's when old Barliman sent for the healer. But I don't understand, for he ate much the same food as all the other guests, and none of them took ill."
"Much the same?" Bob asked. "What was different?"
Nob thought on that. "Let's see. They had beer from the normal tap, potatoes, greens, and mutton as Mistress Butterbur made for the whole house...." Nob's eyes grew a bit wide as a thought occurred to him. "And the stew. I hadn't thought of that before."
Mistress Butterbur had made a pot of stew especially for some of the wandering rangers. Potatoes and broth with a bit of cheese and bacon added for taste. That Strider had taught her how to make it, and the mistress often made it special when his folk came to the Pony - they paid well for a taste that reminded them of home. "I thought he might like it, seeing as he's traveling with those rangers," Nob said after a moment, "and mayhap he'd set aside a coin or two for me come morning."
"Well, there's your answer, Nob!" Bob laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. "Some folk can't eat certain foods. Sis was like that with some nuts."
Nob felt his eyes grow wide with fear. "Didn't your sister die some years back?"
"Aye," Bob answered, "but from drowning. Nuts would make her lips tingle and swell, and they'd make her eyes water something fierce, but she never took serious hurt from it." Bob stood up and pulled Nob to his feet. "Come on, let's go find Mistress Butterbur. There's a tea my mum found that settled her stomach, so Sis could sleep it off. She'd be right again by morning."
At that news, Nob smiled with relief and followed Bob down the stairs.
****************************
Notes:
Nob and Bob are canonical characters, albeit minor ones. If you don't recognize them, Nob is the "hobbit servant" who sees after Merry, Pippin, Frodo and Sam at the Prancing Pony; and Bob is the one who's told to make room in the stables for their ponies.
I imagine this to be from the early days of Nob's service at the Pony, when he was still green enough to make mistakes like this. No exact date in mind.
One factoid that didn't quite make it into the story was that the guest in question is a dwarf travelling between the Blue Mountains and the Lonely Mountain. (It seems reasonable to me that Rangers could serve as mercenaries and guards, to raise money to support their people.) My thinking was, dwarves live in the mountains and might not have been able to keep cattle (who need more pasture), so a dwarf might be more used to goat cheese. Therefore being fed cheese made from cow's milk could quite reasonably mess up someone who was allergic to cow's milk, or even was just lactose intolerant.