Author's Note: Hello! I'm back. And I've been away for freaking ever, I know. Surgery's done and was a success, but it took a while for me to get everything in order again. Anyway, here I am. *g* I know I owe you the sequel to Doubt and it is coming, but I needed to ease back in to fanfiction with something short. And silly. So for the moment there's this.

I have a load of review and PM replies I owe everyone, I'll get to those as I can too.

In the meanwhile, enjoy the story!

Disclaimer: The professor owns Middle-earth and all its inhabitants, and Saki owns Saki. All I own is my laptop.

Summary: Old friends are gathered in Minas Tirith. The children must be entertained.

The She-Wolf

"But I know nothing about children!" Gimli protested, looking around at what seemed to be an army of young ones, both Mannish and Halfling. "How am I to entertain them?"

"I am certain you will think of something," Éomer assured him.

"If you only knew how eager Elboron and Elfwine are to spend time with you," Éowyn coaxed.

"Indeed they are," put in Lothíriel, smiling at him gently. "They have heard so much of your valour and your kindness –"

"Your wisdom," added Faramir.

"Oh, come on now, Master Gimli," said Samwise, who had been silent until then. "You wouldn't disappoint the children? Look at them. All the way from the Shire to meet a Dwarf – and not just any Dwarf, the son of Master Bilbo's good friend, who went on a quest with him. And Master Frodo's friend, they know that too."

As though Sam's words had been the cue, Merry and Pippin started talking at once.

"They've been so eager to hear tales of Aglarond –"

"Just think, they might never see the Glittering Caves with their own eyes."

"But at least they can hear you speak of them."

"All the way from the Shire to Minas Tirith, Master Gimli," Sam said. "And it wasn't for the Mister Strider's – I mean, the King's – celebration, either. It was to talk to you. You wouldn't let them down, after they've been waiting so long?"

"They so want to hear of everything you saw when you journeyed with Aragorn and Legolas. We don't know those stories. The battle at Helm's Deep!" said Merry.

"How you passed through the mountain and brought the ghosts to save Gondor," supplied Pippin.

"How you once outdid the finest archer of the Elven realms in slaughtering Orcs," added Éowyn.

Gimli grunted. "It's true the axe is a good weapon."

A tiny hand tugged at his jerkin, and little golden-haired Elanor looked up at him with wide blue eyes.

"Please, Uncle Gimli?"

Gimli groaned. "Oh, very well. Who wants to hear a story?"

And that was how, two hours later, Gimli was sitting with his friends' children clustered around his knees, telling them what he had heard from his father about their quest to slay Smaug, find the Arkenstone, and reclaim Erebor.

"… Then they realized," he said, "that the great bear they had seen was no bear at all. It was a Man! Beorn he was, Beorn the skin-changer."

"Skin-changer," said Elfwine reverently. "Could he change into any animal?"

"Only into a bear. His son rules the Beorning now, and tall men they are and strong. And they take a heavy toll from those crossing the Misty Mountains."

"We didn't see any," complained Faramir Took.

"You took the High Pass from Rivendell. If you go through their country you may see some of Beorn's people."

"Can all Men change into animals?" demanded Frodo Gamgee.

Gimli smiled at him, feeling a pang for another Frodo, now passed into the West, along with Gandalf and the Lady Galadriel.

"Not all Men," he said. "Beorn was powerful among his kind."

"Oh," said Frodo, clearly disappointed.

Gimli leaned forward. "But I have heard tell," he said, dropping his voice to a secretive whisper, "that in the far lands beyond Rhûn and Harad, there are Men who practice powerful magic. They can turn people into animals."

There was instant clamour from the children.

"Have you seen them?"

"What animals can they turn people into? Only bears?"

"Horses!"

"Wolves!"

"Puppies!"

"Oliphaunts!"

"Wolves," said Gimli, when he could get a word in. If he was going to make up a story, he might as well make up an interesting one. "They can turn people into wolves with a spell – but not evil wolves like the abominations of the Enemy. Good wolves, gentle and playful."

"Like puppies!"

"A little like puppies, yes. But grown wolves."

"I've never seen wolves that are like puppies."

"I want to see them!"

"So do I!"

"Can you do it, Uncle Gimli?"

"Will you show us?"

"Now, now," Gimli said, when they had quietened again. "No, I have not seen it and I cannot do it. It's only a story."

"You mean it's not true?" asked Elboron.

"Well…" Gimli hesitated, unwilling to dash the hope in Frodo's eyes. "It might be true."

"So you can do it! Show us! I know Dwarves can do magic just as well as Beornings."

"I cannot –"

"Please, Uncle Gimli," said Elanor.

Gimli thumped himself on the head with the handle of his axe. "Tell me, did your Uncle Legolas teach you how to do that?"

"You promised them what?" Éomer demanded, staring at Gimli as though he'd lost his mind.

Gimli didn't blame him. "I said there was magic from the land beyond Harad that turns people into wolves, and we would look it up in the library and try it tonight."

"You are serious." He turned to his sister. "Éowyn, he is serious."

Éowyn shook her head. It was a clear sign of how much time she had spent among Elves that her eyes were sparkling with mirth.

"I could not say no!" Gimli protested. "Have you seen wee Elanor? And what she does with her eyes? She must have learnt it from Legolas. I have seen him do that to his father, and there is nothing Thranduil will not give him when he does. You should not have let them spend so much time with the Elves."

"But what are we to do?" Sam asked. "We cannot – wait." He turned to Merry and Pippin. "You two. You were always in mischief. What can we do?"

"Mischief!" Pippin protested. "This is not mischief! If you want me to show them how to help themselves to apples when the cooks are looking in the other direction –"

"Or get carrots from the field behind the farmer's back," Merry added.

"Aye, that. But turning Hobbits – or Dwarves or Men – into wolves? I know nothing about that. That's unnatural."

"Do you want to be the one to tell the children that?" Lothíriel asked.

"I think Gimli should be the one to tell them," Pippin said promptly. "This is all his doing, after all."

"Quite right," agreed Éowyn. "You can tell them, Gimli."

"I – but I –"

Gimli looked around the hall desperately, hoping a solution would present itself.

As so often happens, a solution did.

"There!" he said, pointing.

Everybody turned as one, to where Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir sat in armchairs by the fire, bent over a book in Legolas' lap – and, by the look of it, debating its accuracy. A history book, probably; Gimli would never forget the expression on the chief clerk's face when Elladan, glancing at an old record book, had exclaimed, "But Turambar never learnt any swordsmanship in Imladris. I would have remembered the presence of a King of Gondor!"

"The Elves?" asked Merry's wife, Estella, looking a little apprehensive.

"Not even Elves can turn people into wolves," Éowyn said firmly.

"No, but… they might be able to produce some other Elven… thing… to amuse the children."

"You want to ask Legolas if he knows Elven magic?" Faramir asked, looking at him askance. "The lecture will not end today."

"Did you hear me say 'Elven magic'? I have learnt my lesson about that. No, we can just… explain the situation, and see if the Elves have any ideas."

"I will never understand," said Elladan, "what mortals mean when they say 'magic'."

Merry and Gimli both glared at Pippin, who had hurried to the trio of Elves with stories of how Gimli had promised the children strange magic from the far lands.

"They say it of all sorts of things," agreed Elrohir. "Those ridiculous deceptions that conjurors perform –"

"Sleight of hand," Faramir supplied, though Gimli had no idea why he bothered.

"All sorts of deceptions. The deceptions of the Enemy –"

"I think," Elladan said thoughtfully, "that mortals simply do not like to call deception by its true name."

"It is not only deception," said Legolas.

"Thank you," Lothíriel told him.

"One of the Rangers once asked me if it was magic when a tree warned me that there were Mannish highwaymen nearby. But that was simple courtesy. Would you not warn one of your friends if there were highwaymen on the road he intended to take?"

"Legolas," Éomer intervened hastily, before the Elf could get well started. "Can you help us?"

"What, exactly, did you tell the children?"

"I told them nothing. Gimli told them he could produce a spell to turn a person into a wolf."

Legolas stared at him for a moment, then laughed and shook his head. "Turning people into wolves? Do you want carnage in Minas Tirith?"

"Not that sort of wolf," Gimli specified. "A tame, playful, friendly wolf. Like a puppy."

"So… You told the children not only that you knew how to turn a person into a wolf, but that you could guarantee the good temper of the wolf?"

"You can do that thing where you put out fires and light them."

"Put – put out fires?"

"Bonfires. I have seen you do it."

"Putting out a bonfire is nothing like turning a person into a wolf! A good-tempered wolf like a puppy. Putting out a bonfire is easy. You only need to persuade the wind to blow a little and snuff it out."

"I have full faith in your ingenuity."

"Actually… so do I," Elrohir said suddenly, earning himself a glare from his friend. "You were the most infuriatingly inventive Elfling, Legolas, and you certainly caused me enough sleepless nights with it."

"He has a point," commented Elladan. "It would be a shame to disappoint the children."

"And this sort of magic must be a Silvan art. If anyone at all can do this thing, surely it is the legendary Elven-prince of the Woodland Realm."

Legolas scowled at both of them. But a moment later, his brow cleared, and he shot out a couple of sentences of Sindarin too rapid for even Faramir to understand.

Elrohir's eyes gleamed, but Elladan looked a little doubtful. "It might be dangerous."

"I will answer for the temper of the wolf," laughed Legolas.

"You will – you can do this?" Lothíriel asked in astonishment.

"We will need a map," Legolas said.

"And a volunteer," Elladan added.

"A volunteer?"

"Elves do not turn into wolves," he said firmly.

"I will do it," Éowyn offered, looking amused. "If you will promise that you can turn me back into a woman and that I will not eat anybody."

"Éowyn!" Faramir protested. "You do not know – it might not be safe!"

"Do you doubt Legolas?"

"I – no, no, of course not. But – Legolas!" Faramir turned to him. "Are you certain…"

Legolas laughed. "I promise you, Lady Éowyn, you will be yourself when it is done, and no harm will come to anybody. This is an art which mortals consider magic, but which my people have practised for many centuries."

Legolas was not at Afternoon Tea, a meal provided exclusively for the Hobbits and those (such as sensible Dwarves) who never said no to good food when it was offered, even if it wasn't accompanied by good ale. Legolas seldom was at Afternoon Tea, so Gimli thought nothing of it.

But when dinner came and went with no sign of the Elf, he grew suspicious enough to ask Aragorn.

The King of Gondor shrugged. "I was just told something about wolves and Elven magic. Legolas said he would return tomorrow. Experience has taught me not to ask for more information. If you want to know more, I suggest you ask my brothers. Or Arwen."

Arwen, who was nearby, laughed and said nothing.

Legolas was indeed at breakfast the next day, and immediately after it he and the Queen's brothers took Éowyn aside. Gimli firmly shut his ears to their whispering, and the occasional high-pitched giggle from Éowyn, to concentrate on his good porridge.

"Do you know what they are doing?" Gimli asked Faramir when the three Elves and Éowyn were absent from lunch.

Faramir only shrugged. "Legolas will not put her in danger. As to the rest, I had much rather not know."

It was when Elanor, as unfailingly polite as her father, got to her feet to ask if the children might be excused from the King's study – it was already dark outside, and no doubt they wanted some time to play in the vast halls before they were herded off to bed – that Legolas finally broke his silence.

"You want to leave?" he asked, his mirthful smile making him look like the youngest of the adults present instead of, saving the Queen and her brothers, the oldest by several centuries. "Are you certain, my lady? I know Master Gimli has something special planned for tonight."

Gimli dropped his tankard with a clatter.

Elanor smiled into the Elf's blue eyes, firelight glinting on her golden curls.

"What does he have planned, Uncle Legolas?"

"Indeed," Gimli grunted. "What do I have planned, Uncle Legolas?"

Legolas' expression of perfect innocence fooled Gimli not in the slightest. "Master Gimli, were you not telling me only yesterday of strange magic from far lands, that has fallen to the knowledge of the Wise among the Dwarves?"

"I remember it as well," said Elrohir.

He and Elladan were sitting on either side of Legolas, and Gimli had the distinct impression that the three of them were about to cue each other in the manner that always made him suspect that the ability to communicate mentally was not limited to old and wise Elves.

"He said there was strange transformative magic," Elladan laughed, confirming Gimli's suspicions.

"It is said that the great wizards of the East can turn a Man into a horse," said Legolas, smiling.

"Or a cat."

"Or a wolf."

"And Master Gimli has learnt of this ancient craft, unknown even to Elvenkind. He said he would show us."

"Indeed he did," insisted Elrohir.

"I… I said I would show you?" demanded Gimli.

"Which of us could possibly do this thing but you?" Elladan spread his hands. "My skill lies in a different direction, as does my brother's."

"And I am an Elf of the Woodland Realm," added Legolas. "I have no arts for stone halls. No, you must do this thing, Master Gimli." With a small smile, he went on, "Surely you would not disappoint the children."

Gimli chewed his lip. Much as Legolas might tease him, he knew the Elf would never want to upset their friends' children, which meant he had a plan.

Of course, being the infuriating, wooden-headed tree-sprite that he was, he had utterly neglected to tell Gimli what his part in the plan was to be. More than ever, Gimli was convinced that dealing with Elves was like shooting in the dark with a faulty crossbow. Blindfolded.

"It is not actually impossible to shoot blindfolded," Legolas said. Gimli realized with a start that he had spoken his last thought aloud. "I could show you –"

"No," Gimli said firmly, before any of the children could latch on to the suggestion. He had seen the Elven archers' training drills and he had absolutely no desire to be a part of one. "I think we are having enough trouble from the pointy-ears for one evening. So… You think I can practise strange magic, do you?"

It was Arwen who answered. "Master Dwarf, you would not disappoint the children?"

Gimli sighed. "Oh, very well." He turned to Legolas and the sons of Elrond. "One of you three can volunteer."

"Certainly not," Elladan said. "The spell does not work on Elves."

"It's my spell. It works wherever I want." A flash of rapid, silent communication between the three ellyn, and then Elrohir shrugged and said, "Very well. I volunteer."

"Gather round, then," Gimli said, with a vague memory of having seen a Mannish conjuror several years ago. "Make a circle."

Gimli noticed that the Elves were careful to space themselves equally, Legolas, Elladan, Arwen and Elrohir standing diametrically opposite each other. Apparently they did have a plan.

The other crowded in between them, Aragorn, Faramir and Éowyn, Éomer and Lothíriel, Pippin, Merry, Sam, Rosie, Diamond and Estella. The children all gathered around Gimli, who stood next to Elladan, opposite Elrohir.

"I need a wand," Gimli said.

There was a pause.

"A wand?" Legolas asked.

"It is a… small stick. Like a wizard's staff."

"Where are we to procure a wizard's staff?"

"I do not want a wizard's staff. I only want… Oh, never mind. I will use my axe handle for a wand. That is how Dwarves do things."

There was silence from the adults and excited whispering from the children while Gimli fetched his axe. He held it just clear of the cutting edge and waved the handle around as he had seen Men do at market fairs.

Gimli caught a glimpse of Legolas gesturing behind his back.

The fire in the hearth went out, plunging the room into utter darkness.

There were excited squeals from the children.

Gimli hesitated over his next words. Most spells he had heard used were in the Elven tongues. Even the spell that held the gates of Moria had required a Sindarin word. But although he could speak some Sindarin, he doubted he could manage it well enough to deceive Elboron, who had been encouraged by both his parents to spend as much time as he chose among the Elves of Ithilien and consequently spoke the language of the Sindar as well as he spoke Westron and Rohirric.

What of it? He was a Dwarf, and he would use Dwarven words for his spell. If Legolas did not like it, the fool Elf might give him more warning another time.

He hissed, the Khuzdul word for wolf, making Elladan's eyes narrow in mild disapproval. Elves had a fear of magic in other tongues, especially, according to Legolas, the Noldor, who had been deceived in the past.

"Say it," Gimli urged the children. "The more you speak it, the stronger the magic."

Elfwine was the first to repeat the word, and the others began after him. Gimli followed with more Khuzdul words, and for some time all that was audible was childish voices repeating whatever Gimli said.

Then, all of a sudden, the fire roared back to life.

Elrohir, tall and broad-shouldered and very much still an Elf, stood exactly where he had been a moment before.

Gimli frowned. "It should have worked."

A sudden sharp squeak from one of the children made him turn.

Éowyn, who had been standing beside Legolas, was gone. In her place was a large – large –wolf, with a shaggy grey coat and bright eyes and –

Teeth like daggers.

Gimli just managed not to shriek aloud.

"What… what happened?" he asked.

"Is it not obvious?" Elladan's voice was suspiciously devoid of inflection. "You must have been trying the spell on Legolas instead of Elrohir – one of your jokes, I expect, Master Gimli."

"One of… my… jokes?"

"I can only assume so. Unlike Elrohir, Legolas has no Mannish forefathers. I doubt the spells of mortals have any effect on those with none of the blood of mortals. So your spell, unable to act on its intended target, chose the nearest Mortal. Lady Éowyn."

"One of my jokes?" Gimli asked again.

"What else could it have been?" Legolas asked. "No matter. Once the children have satisfied themselves that the spell worked, you can reverse it and all will be as it was."

"I… I can?"

None of the Elves responded, and everyone else appeared too stunned to speak.

"Uncle Legolas," Elboron said at last, "is that… Is that my mother?"

"You will have to ask Master Gimli that. Come and meet her." Legolas' hand had dropped to the wolf's head. "It is perfectly safe, I promise you."

At a discreet nod from Legolas, Faramir dropped to one knee beside the wolf and held out a hand. "Éowyn."

The wolf – Éowyn, and Gimli could scarcely believe the Elves had actually gone that far – sniffed his fingers briefly, swiped her tongue across them, and then pressed her head up into Legolas' hand again.

To Gimli's surprise, Elanor was the first of the children to dare to come forward. Sam looked nervous, but he said nothing.

The wolf accepted Elanor's touch without demur, and it was not long before the other children were gathered around, gently patting her and hurling excited questions at Gimli. Fortunately, they did not wait for any answers.

Legolas kept a watchful eye on the wolf and the children. After a few minutes, when it appeared to Gimli that the wolf was growing restive, he said, "Master Gimli, how long is it safe to allow the spell to continue?"

Gimli took the hint.

"Ah. Er… Yes. We should stop. Form a circle again. And… Lady Éowyn, if you would stand…" Legolas gestured subtly. "Beside Legolas! Please stand beside Legolas. The… ah… the angle. That is the correct angle."

Gimli had no idea if the wolf understood him, but it went to Legolas and stood quietly to heel.

He did as he had done earlier, waving his axe handle and trying to give everyday Khuzdul the sound of arcane magic. He did not ask the children to repeat after him, this time; he feared to provoke the wolf.

He had his eyes on the wolf instead of Legolas, and so it took him by surprise when the room was plunged into darkness.

He thought he heard growling, but it was low enough that he might have imagined it. When the fire lit itself again, Éowyn was standing between Legolas and Faramir, eyes bright with mirth.

"Master Gimli," she said breathlessly, "that was delightful."

That, Gimli thought sourly, was certainly true, since Éowyn was the only one, other than the Elves, who appeared to understand what was happening.

"And now," Faramir said firmly to the children, "it is time for bed. I think you have all had enough excitement for one day."

"But Father –"

"Uncle Faramir, it is still early –"

"Lord Faramir," Elanor began sweetly. Faramir held up a hasty hand to forestall her.

"If you go to bed now, quietly, Master Gimli will go with you and tell you another story."

Gimli, who had just been thinking of a happy evening spent in the company of friends with foaming tankards of good ale, choked.

"Faramir!"

But it was too late. Elanor's wide eyes had turned on him. "Please, Uncle Gimli."

"Oh, very well," Gimli muttered, ignoring the snickering from Pippin. "I will tell you a story." He stumped out of the room, herding the children ahead of him, waiting until he was standing in the doorway to say, "What do you say to the story of Faramir and his pet dragon?"

He shut the door on Faramir's startled protest and the sound of Éowyn's laughter.

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