Request: Elrond h/c (funny or serious)
“Where is Lord Elrond?” Frodo asked. He sat perched on a satin cushion at the table beside Gandalf. He had filled his plate with all sorts of Elvish delights, as well as one of the finest of Rivendell's wines, although only a few thousand years old.
“He is a bit,” Gandalf cleared his throat, “shall we say, indisposed at the moment. That hobbity meal your cousins cooked last night was a bit too much for an Elvish constitution, it seems.”
“Oh, dear,” Frodo sighed. “What a pity. I must go to him at once.”
He left his own food uneaten.
“How do you feel?” Frodo asked, wiping Elrond's brow. The lord of Rivendell lay twisted in silk bed sheets, groaning and clutching his stomach.
Elrond managed to open his eyes. “Nothing a bit of rest won't cure. Hobbit food - is it always so rich?”
“I rather thought Pippin toned it down. He served only three main dishes and two desserts. Normally -”
Elrond groaned again and clutched his belly. “Never again mention food to me.”
Frodo smiled and wiped the elf lord's brow again.