Author: Jay of Lasgalen
Characters: Bilbo, Elladan, Elrohir
Disclaimer: Tolkien's; not mine
Author's Notes: A re-write for the 'Cold' prompt - because Elrohir hasn't suffered enough!
Better Safe, And Sorry
Elladan and Elrohir returned from patrol very late; cold, wet and mud-splattered. As they crossed the silent hallway Bilbo pattered in, carrying a steaming cup.
"Oh, hello! I was just making myself a little nightcap." He blinked, taking in their appearance. "Bless me, you're soaked! Here, you’ll catch your deaths of cold!" He thrust the cup at Elrohir.
Elrohir began to explain that they did not suffer from colds as mortals did, but delicious scents of wine, cinnamon and nutmeg reached him.
He took a sip, and cursed. “Valar! I should have known it was hot. I burned my tongue!”