At the other security station, Gimli had been coaxed to lay aside the axe he had been carrying and the one from his belt as well. He slowly bent to yank off his boots, then the metal-toed socks beneath them.
He held up the redolent socks and waved them about with a smirk. "You'll be wanting to check these?"
"No, no….*cough*" the Elf said, holding out a small bin. "Just put them…*cough* in here…"
"Heh-heh-heh-heh…." He dropped them in and then set about tugging off his helm.
Frodo peeled his eyes away from watching Gimli and the shape of his form-fitted helm-hair. Taking a breath, he went forward, extending his ticket.
"It's more poetic in its original context." Frodo said, reluctantly handing over Sting in its sheath.
"Anything else? I see you didn't wear shoes either."
He gritted his teeth. "No." Through the imposing gate he went.
"Okay. There's a…um, mail shirt. Do I have to take it off?"
They nodded in unison. Frodo slowly pulled off his coat, weskit and shirt. Everyone's eyes widened as the mithril shirt came into view. He pulled it off and replaced his clothing. The guards admired it and turned it in the light.
He gritted his teeth again and faked a smile. "I don't think so."
"What do you have in your pockets?" one of the guards suggested. "Or maybe it's a belt buckle?
Frodo turned out his pockets for them, growing more desperate as he did so.
"Is this mithril?" the other guard asked, still fascinated with the mail-shirt. They both admired it. Frodo grabbed at this moment of inattention to slip the Ring on its chain over his head, cupping it in his hand.
"Yes," he encouraged them, "if you turn it in the light sometimes it makes rainbows."
"Really?" They turned it this way and that.
Thankful beyond thankful for the Elven delight with beautiful things, Frodo abruptly lobbed the Ring right over the security gate towards his friends. They stared at it coming at them, uncomprehending. With a small 'clink-kersloop' if vanished into a trashcan next to Sam.
The guards finally dropped the shirt into the bin and turned their diamond-dazzled eyes back to their job. "Now, where were we?"
"I got the shirt off. So…now I go through?"
Getting a confused nod in reply, he finally walked through the gate without the buzzer catching him. He was so pleased with this he jauntily waved back at them as he went, but the guards had already turned their attention to Boromir who was holding out his ticket.
Behind them, Frodo trotted then sped up until he hit the trashcan at a dead run and all but dove into it. There was a small explosion of wrappers, napkins and half-empty coffee cups, then a pause as he apparently found what he was looking for. Aragorn surreptitiously reached in and helped pull him back out. Sam helpfully flicked gum and sticky wrappers off of his Master.
Merry gave an odd look. "If you needed some coffee, I'm sure we could have gotten you some…"