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"Hobbits have a passion for mushrooms, surpassing even the greediest likings of Big People." Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring.

"…the gift of the Elf-minstrels, who can make the things of which they sing appear before the eyes of those that listen." Appendices, Return of the King


Fili was somewhat put out. The blasted Elf had tricked them! Here he'd entered the halls of Rivendell in good faith, confidently expecting food- after all, they had been promised some by the Elven-lord- and here was nothing but a pile of leaves! Uncle Thorin had been right; Elves were slippery folk, the lot of them.

Opposite him, Dwalin demanded, "Where's the meat?" while Ori said mournfully, "I don't like green food…"

Fili turned to his brother, who looked equally disgruntled.

"How in Durin's mighty name am I meant to replenish my strength with this?" Kili hissed under his breath. "This is fit for rabbits, not dwarves!"

Having heard tales about the keen hearing of elves, Fili shot him a warning glance. Kili flushed, his complaints dropping into an inaudible mumble, but his scowl remained.

"I don't know what you're all complaining about, personally," said the hobbit, who was tucking into the food with ravenous glee. "These are the best mushrooms I've ever tasted!"

"How can you eat that, laddie?" said Gloin, his bushy eyebrows raised incredulously. "There's neither meat nor fish in it!"

"They're mushrooms!" said Bilbo, continuing to stuff his mouth with more food than Fili had ever thought possible. He had been sincerely amazed the first time he saw the hobbit eating. He still could not quite work out where the Halfling kept it all, as he certainly wasn't very large.

"Do dwarves not like mushrooms then?" asked Bilbo, as soon as he paused for breath.

"Can't say I've ever tried them, lad," said Bofur. He stabbed one with a fork, and examined it as carefully as though it had been a newly mined diamond. "Can't say I want to either, to tell the truth!"

His fellow dwarves nodded in agreement. "Aye…"

"But you must!" protested the hobbit. "Didn't your grannies ever tell you as children to have at least a taste of everything? You can always stop eating then if you are averse to it!"

"I certainly will not," said Balin firmly. His eyes begin to twinkle as he continues, "However, Fili and Kili are but children as yet. They may taste it on our behalf!"

"What- no!" sputtered Fili, as Kili began to shout indignantly about how he had reached his majority over two decades ago.

Bilbo merely waited until all the fuss died down, before turning to them with a smile. And a mushroom on a fork.

"Do try it!" he said encouragingly. "You are in for a treat indeed. To think you have none of you ever tried mushrooms before! They are considered the greatest of delicacies among my people. Why, I remember when my Aunt Pansy, well I call her my aunt, she was really an elder cousin twice removed on my mother's side…"

Fili ceased to listen as the hobbit rambled on. However, the excitement in the hobbit's voice captured him. Half against his will, he reached out for the mushroom.

"You're not really going to eat it, are you?" asked Kili, staring at him.

"It's only fair," said Fili with a shrug. "After all, Bilbo has had to put up with all our customs throughout our journey. It's time we returned the favour."

Kili looked somewhat shamefaced for a moment, but nodded decisively. He, too, reached out, stabbed the tiniest piece of mushroom and stuck it into his mouth.

Glancing down dubiously at the strange plant, Fili did the same. He chewed slowly on it, and was surprised to find that the taste was not unpleasant. In fact, it was perfectly acceptable, though quite different from anything he'd ever tasted before. He was so hungry that he immediately reached out for another. Here, at least, was something he could eat that wasn't green!

Beside him, Kili smiled as he ate. "It's really quite good, don't you think, Fili? Balin, Bofur, you should try it!"

"We're full, thank you," said Balin with haste. His stomach growled rather loudly as he spoke, belying his words.

Fili grinned at him. "Suit yourself."


The dwarves and one hobbit became very merry towards evening as more ale and wine was served. After all, it had only been that afternoon that they managed to escape from certain death from the teeth and claws of Wargs and the weapons of the Orcs. It was as good a chance as any for some stress relief, so no one thought anything of the fact that Fili, Kili and Bilbo laughed loudest of all.

It was only when everyone was getting ready for bed- minus Thorin, Balin, and Gandalf, who were still in council with Lord Elrond- that they realized something was amiss. The three youngest members of the group could not stop laughing. Worse, they were laughing at nothing that the others found in the least amusing: the painting of a white ship on the wall, the wind breathing through the trees outside, Bofur's drooping moustache. The older dwarf was highly insulted, but they simply could not stop laughing. Anything anyone said simply set them off again.

Fili cottoned on first, his brain furiously putting the pieces together. "It must have been the mushrooms!"

"The mushrooms?" giggled his brother- yes, giggled! Fili was not going to let him forget that in a hurry.

"Aye, the mushrooms! There must have been something in them! Did they try to poison us?"

Dwalin growled. "Why, those devious, underhanded wretches! May Mahal's hammer smite them into dust! Gloin, Oin, come with me and we shall get to the bottom of this! The rest of you, stay here and guard those three fools!" Heavy footsteps sounded on the floorboards as the three warriors hastened away, their expressions grim.

In contrast, those three fools found the situation endlessly amusing. Eventually, however, they all calmed down. Bilbo even fell asleep, or so Fili guessed from his deep, even breathing. He had no idea how the hobbit had managed it. His thoughts were racing now, and whenever he shut his eyes, a myriad of images danced under his lids. He could not catch them long enough to see what they were, nor if he was honest, could he think clearly enough to match them to their right names them even if he had. They were simply an array of flashing, spinning lights and colours.

He heard when the others returned. Their footsteps seemed unnaturally loud to him, and- there was a rhythm to it, he could have sworn. Were they tap dancing? Surely not, the idea was ridiculous! Yet as soon as he had thought it, images of the three warriors in dancers' raiment and tap shoes appeared before his eyes. They were so real that he reached out to grab hold of Oin's tutu, only to have the elder dwarf spin away far more gracefully than he had thought Oin capable of. Oin's image continued to perform tour jetes before him. The spinning was making him dizzy; he groaned and shut his eyes, catching snippets of conversation as he lay with his eyes shut tight.

"They will be fine… demonic Elvish food… harmless, they say, they did not expect anyone to ingest so much… magic mushrooms… make the things the minstrels sing of appear before your eyes…"

Fili tuned out after some time, unable to focus for long. When he opened his eyes, everything seemed to be shimmering. There was a soft golden halo around the lamp; the light it cast was making the furniture shiver. The ship in the painting was actually moving, it was sailing… He had to close his eyes and breathe. Just breathe, don't panic.

Exactly,a voice in his head encouraged him. Breathe, young one, be calm.

He nearly screamed at the soft words uttered in that musical voice. What on earth? His thoughts, however, came out in the same voice.

Don't worry, I'm not a stranger. I'm you, don't you see? Your mind has just decided to use a different voice for a while, not your own.

You sound like an Elf! Mahal preserve me, I've become an Elf! What is this accursed fungi doing to me?

You're not an Elf, you merely sound like one for now. If anyone could see you they'd know you're not an Elf. You don't have the looks, for one. Also, you're far too short.

Fili blinked, then wished he hadn't as the flashing images assaulted his senses again. His subconscious had just insulted him. His subconscious was an Elf. He… he didn't want to think about this anymore.

He had no idea how long he laid there, trying not to think, avoiding the Elven voice in his head. His mind wandered. He was outside, flying on the wings of a great Eagle… he was in a great oasis of sand, riding a camel as he had seen done in pictures of the Haradrim in the library of Ered Luin… he was diving into the Sea, he had fins and a tail…

Almost unconsciously, he ran his hands over his body, just to make sure he was really there, in his own body. His own dwarven body. Thank the Powers! For a moment there he had actually believed he was an elf. And a fish. And… oh for Durin's sake, the images were starting again.

He tried to avoid them, repeating the same chant to himself over and over in his mind. I am a dwarf. My name is Fili. My brother is Kili. We are on a quest with our uncle Thorin to reclaim Erebor.

The chant comes out in the same musical elven voice, and he shudders. What was this nightmare he had unwittingly thrown himself into? Was this Durin's way of punishing his great-great-great-times about a hundred times-grandson for fraternizing with Elves and Halflings?

Don't be foolish, young one. Durin was not averse to the Elves, from what history tells us. They say he even received them in Khazad-dum itself!

Go away! I am a dwarf. My name is Fili. My brother is Kili. We are on a quest with our uncle Thorin to reclaim Erebor. I am not an Elf!

You don't have to be quite so brutal about it…

I AM NOT AN ELF!

His mind wandered, continuously leaping from place to place. He lived a thousand journeys, fought a thousand battles, and experienced both the satisfaction of victory and the bitterness of defeat. In his mind, he saw the dragon Smaug approaching… but no, no, he forced his mind to think of other things. All in all, he had an incredible experience that, by the end of it, made him feel as seasoned as Thorin Oakenshielf himself.

Yet, something seemed out of place. Surely this was not how he usually conducted his journeys? There was a strange emptiness inside him, as though he had lost something. Something was missing…

He was forgetting something, he was sure of it. He tried again. I am a dwarf. My name is Fili. My brother is Kili… Kili!

His eyes shot open. "Kili," he called cautiously. "Kili, are you all right?"

"Urggh," mumbles Kili. "Amazing… I feel so clever, Fili, if only I could write down everything I'm thinking right now! I'm telling you, I'd be hailed as the wisest dwarf ever to walk Middle-earth…"

So Kili was all right, then. Fili breathed a sigh of relief, and closed his eyes. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep.


"I am never trying one of the delicacies of the Shire again," grumbled Kili. Wearily, he gathered his gear. Thorin had called them all to be ready to leave, swiftly before the Elves caught them. "And Fili, you're not to make me feel guilty about it either!"

Making his little brother feel guilty was the last thing on Fili's mind; he was far too tired. He simply nodded. "Well, we're lucky that at least Uncle didn't find out!"

Kili's face paled for a moment, as his eyes darted to a spot over Fili's shoulder.

"I didn't find out what?" demanded Thorin, glaring at Fili as he spun around to face his uncle.

"Nothing, Uncle! Absolutely nothing!"

As their uncle walked away, shaking his head, Kili nudged his elder brother. "You know, if we could just get hold of some of those mushrooms, we could slip some into Uncle's stew…"

Laughing, the two headed on their way, never dreaming that in just a few hours, they would be caught in a storm that might potentially separate them forever.

THE END

A/N: So… what do you think? Good? Bad? If you liked it please do leave a review, I get really really discouraged by lack of feedback, it kills the muses!