Rivendell International Airport

by Primula

7.

Aragorn glowered without any effect, then seeing Gandalf's warning gestures from behind, he unhappily moved to the side to watch the rest of the group come through. They'd all been watching his adventure and whispering between each other, trying to learn what worked and what didn't.

Pippin stepped up and handed the guard his ticket. 

"Koot Nippip?" 

Pip shrugged innocently. "They're all called that where I come from."

"All right, Koot. Remove your shoes and step over here."

"Don't have any."

"What?" the guard looked down and raised his brows.  "No shoes?"

"I, uh, decided to save time at the airport and not wear any."

There was a slight pause. "Right.  Any weapons?"

"Only this little sword, that's it.  It's harmless.  I don't even know how to use it, really."  He tried to tuck it back away, but they took it from his hand. 

"What's that?" one asked pointing at a bulge in his coat pocket.

"Apple?" Pippin said, wondering why they were asking.

"No fresh produce. Sorry," they said, pulling the apple out.  "Any more?"

"Look, if you want to share that's fine but…"

Ignoring him, they riffled through his pockets, deftly removing two pears, three more apples and a brown apple-core.

Pippin, a bit crestfallen, walked through the gate.  Everyone in line braced themselves but no noise was heard.

"Thank you," the guard said. "Move along."

"At least I still have my cheese," he whispered as he joined Aragorn by the wall.

"Great," Aragorn muttered cynically.  "Next time we meet up with some orcs we can kill them with a big hunk of cheese, right to the throat."

They looked back over to where Merry was having his ticket examined. "Kcubydnarb Codairem?"

"Just call me Cuby, everyone else does."

"What does it mean?" the guard asked, intrigued.

"Uh, it's a… plant.  We um, dry it and smoke it."

"Is that what's in this pouch, then?" asked the other, taking a pinch out of Merry's pouch and sniffing it.

"Of course," he said, "I always carry some, uh,  as a family token, seeing as it's my name."

"Sorry but we can't allow unknown substances like this to pass." 

"But it's not unknown, it's…uh, it's…whatever that was you said."

They gave him an odd look.  Merry returned it with the most woebegone and pitiful look he could muster, but to no avail.  Apparently Elves were not affected by the looks he'd successfully used countless times on the Shire lasses.  The pipeweed pouch was gone, along with the short sword he'd gotten from the barrow.