A Dangar and Rory tribble: 'Porridge for Dangar'
Title: Porridge for Dangar
Rating: PG
Pairing: Dangar and Rory
Prompt: Porridge
Summary: Rory makes breakfast.
Author's notes: Hopefully this will be part of a larger series. I'm following the 'Winter' prompts for the troubledtribble community and it will also be posted there so forgive any duplication. I offer deep thanks to my dearest abandonada for her wonderful beta and editing skills.
For those who haven't yet met Dangar and Rory, their story can be found here.
Disclaimer: Tolkien’s world… but it also lives in our hearts. Written with deepest love and respect.
Rory reluctantly crawled out of bed, shivering as his feet touched the cold floor. He dashed to the kitchen and quickly got a fire going.
“Need to warm this hobbit-hole before Dangar gets here,” he muttered. “And make him some porridge as I promised.” He pulled a woolen weskit over his nightshirt, and then peered into a bowl that was sitting on the counter. “Ah,” he said happily. “Good!”
He had left oats in a bowl to soak overnight for his porridge and they appeared soft and ready to cook. He set a kettle on the stove for tea, then put milk and water into a saucepan along with his softened oats and set it on the fire next to the kettle. In a few moments the porridge was gently bubbling.
As he stirred it Rory sighed. “I do wish Dangar would relent and live here,” he murmured. But he knew such thoughts were pointless. They had only been love partners for a bit over a month and Dangar was still quite self-conscious about their relationship. Lothagar had not even been told yet, though Rory’s family knew and heartily approved.
Hearing a muffled knock, he went to the door and opened it on a shivering Dangar.
“Come in!” Rory said, grabbing Dangar’s arm and pulling him into the warm hobbit-hole. “Why do you knock?”
Dangar blushed as they embraced. “Would feel odd not to knock,” Dangar murmured, pressing his face to the wool of Rory’s weskit. “Do I smell porridge?”
“You do!” Rory crowed. “And there’s honey and apple bits for toppings.”
“You’re so very good to me, Rory,” Dangar murmured.
Rory smiled as they walked together to the kitchen. ‘I have to convince him to move in with me,’ he thought. ‘I shall start persuading him this very day!’
Rating: PG
Pairing: Dangar and Rory
Prompt: Porridge
Summary: Rory makes breakfast.
Author's notes: Hopefully this will be part of a larger series. I'm following the 'Winter' prompts for the troubledtribble community and it will also be posted there so forgive any duplication. I offer deep thanks to my dearest abandonada for her wonderful beta and editing skills.
For those who haven't yet met Dangar and Rory, their story can be found here.
Disclaimer: Tolkien’s world… but it also lives in our hearts. Written with deepest love and respect.
Rory reluctantly crawled out of bed, shivering as his feet touched the cold floor. He dashed to the kitchen and quickly got a fire going.
“Need to warm this hobbit-hole before Dangar gets here,” he muttered. “And make him some porridge as I promised.” He pulled a woolen weskit over his nightshirt, and then peered into a bowl that was sitting on the counter. “Ah,” he said happily. “Good!”
He had left oats in a bowl to soak overnight for his porridge and they appeared soft and ready to cook. He set a kettle on the stove for tea, then put milk and water into a saucepan along with his softened oats and set it on the fire next to the kettle. In a few moments the porridge was gently bubbling.
As he stirred it Rory sighed. “I do wish Dangar would relent and live here,” he murmured. But he knew such thoughts were pointless. They had only been love partners for a bit over a month and Dangar was still quite self-conscious about their relationship. Lothagar had not even been told yet, though Rory’s family knew and heartily approved.
Hearing a muffled knock, he went to the door and opened it on a shivering Dangar.
“Come in!” Rory said, grabbing Dangar’s arm and pulling him into the warm hobbit-hole. “Why do you knock?”
Dangar blushed as they embraced. “Would feel odd not to knock,” Dangar murmured, pressing his face to the wool of Rory’s weskit. “Do I smell porridge?”
“You do!” Rory crowed. “And there’s honey and apple bits for toppings.”
“You’re so very good to me, Rory,” Dangar murmured.
Rory smiled as they walked together to the kitchen. ‘I have to convince him to move in with me,’ he thought. ‘I shall start persuading him this very day!’