Chapter 2 - A party of some significance

Author's note: Wow! I really didn't expect that much feedback from readers! I'm very glad you all like it, considering this is only my second fanfic.

Dreamflower02, you will get the answer to your questions in this chapter (although you're right, I should have considered the size of the tree more carefully - thanks = )) and k15jensen, you have gotten your wish!

Thank you all so much for your reviews! And although I'd like to thank guest reviewers in name, your comments were more than greatly appreciated!

Anyway, on with the story:

As the motley group of rescuers tramped down the hill, the sun lowered itself over the pretty little hills around them, and the light faded to a smooth and peaceful glow.

Smooth and peaceful, however, was exactly the opposite of what Emma was feeling at the moment. Her stomach churned at the thought of her son; where was he? What had Greg and Tamara done to him? Was he even with them? He's a resourceful kid, Emma thought proudly, maybe he'd managed to escape. This tiny little glimmer of hope that flared brightly within her was almost immediately extinguished. The more rational part of her, the part that had been hardened and beaten by the trials of her past was catching up with her thoughts. Don't get your hopes up; don't risk being disappointed, not again...

Eventually, they reached the bottom of said hill, and made their way over a couple of hedges (Gold still stubbornly refusing any help) to a little river running east.

Emma, unsure of where to go next, looked to her parents (she was almost ashamed to think it, she had always managed on her own) for guidance. Mary-Margaret smiled and nodded at her reassuringly.

"If we follow the course of the river, we're bound to come across some sort of civilization soon." she said.

The others, who had heard of her experience as an outcast and of her survival in the woods, didn't argue. They all nodded and made to continue walking. All, except Regina. She stopped dead in her tracks and raised a skeptic eyebrow.

"Civilization? Why would we want to find other people here? Wouldn't we be better off by ourselves and not attract attention? And what makes you think this area is even inhabited?"

Mary-Margaret looked at her almost pityingly.

"Regina, if we find other people, we can ask them if they've seen Greg and Tamara and Henry. We have no food, and very few weapons - we need some." she said patiently.

"And as for how we know there are people here," added David, "these hills are clearly fields, limited by hedges shaped by people. There are also tracks that weren't made by animals."

Regina nodded curtly. And although her face remained expressionless, Emma sensed that she was embarrassed by her lack of knowledge of such things. She surprised even herself by speaking up for the former queen.

"Regina has a point." she mused, "We don't want to attract too much attention to ourselves - we'd make it easier for Greg and Tamara to find us - or at least know where we are."

Hook nodded. "We should be careful about what we reveal. Maybe also only appear in twos or threes. Stay inconspicuous."

"Oh, that should be easily done" Gold said dryly. "Six total strangers, no doubt dressed strangely, one of them a one-handed pirate, and all of them talking about magic. Should fit right in."

Hook threw him possibly the dirtiest look that could exist, but said nothing, though his hook was twitching longingly.

Sensing the tension, Emma quickly intervened.

"All right," she said sharply, "all right, girls, calm down. We're all in this together, remember? Let's just...let's just do what Mary-Margaret said and follow the river, okay? If we meet anyone, we can work out what to do when the time comes."

With that matter settled, the strange group of allies set off again, heading for the woods the river apparently ran through.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Hook cursed as a branch hit him, unawares, for the umpteenth time. They were still walking in the forest, which had steadily grown darker as the hours dragged by. He batted it away irritably, and marched up to Emma, who was leading the way.

"Lass, how long is this going to last? We've been walking for at least four hours, and unless you haven't noticed, night has fallen."

Emma barely spared him a glance.

"Yes, so I can see for myself." she said dryly.

"D'you think we could perhaps consider a rest?"

"Rest?" she said absently.

"Yes, lass. Rest."

"Why?"

Hook tripped in disbelief.

"Why? Because we're all tired, that's bloody well why!"

"I don't hear anyone else complaining."

Hook sighed in exasperation.

"Look behind you, princess."

Emma, albeit reluctantly, did so. She saw a stumbling Snow grey with exhaustion, whom David was guiding through the mass of brambles and roots that covered the ground, although he also had lines of strain at the corners of his mouth. Behind them, clutching at trees, stumbled Gold. The hand that held his cane was trembling, and he was visibly drained as well. Regina was walking closely behind him, and although her face was determinedly expressionless, Emma could see she was pretty tired too. Finally, Emma looked at Hook, and she noticed the paleness of his face and the way he was still holding his ribs. Admittedly, Emma was feeling the many miles they had trekked starting to take over her own body, too.

She hesitated; the longer they tarried, the further Henry could be getting away from them. But then they were all visibly exhausted, and they didn't even know where Henry was anyway...

Emma sank down onto a root, holding her head in her hands, which was still throbbing slightly. Snow came over too and put an arm around her, resting her head on her daughter's shoulder. Everyone else settled down onto the leafy ground, so exhausted and so grateful for rest that no-one bothered to complain to Emma how long she had kept them walking for. They all rested in silence, savouring the blessed feeling of stretching their legs on soft ground. Then -

"Is it just me, or is there music playing somewhere?" asked David.

Emma looked up, as did all the others. She strained her ears...and...yes...that certainly sounded like music! It was faint, but she could definitely hear it now that someone mentioned it.

Tiredness and sore limbs suddenly forgotten, they got up as one and followed the sound of the music. It was still quite faint, and they had to walk for ten minutes before they could even make out what kind of music it was. As it turned out, it sounded like fiddles and flutes, accompanied by clapping, and it was getting louder by the second now. They walked on feverishly, eager to at last see someone in this new world. All thoughts of discretion and reserve gone now, guided as they were by their hunger, tiredness, and natural instinct of human contact.

Suddenly, they burst out of the woods, and found themselves on the edge of a large clearing, and - from what they could see in the dark - amid lots of little hills. They stopped dead in their tracks. In the centre of the clearing stood a large tree, from which hung hundreds of little lights, and around the tree was what appeared to be a party of some significance. Dozens of canvas tents were scattered around the tree, and a large grassy area was covered with dancing people. There were a couple of bangs, and suddenly a shower of red and gold sparks shot up into the sky. The music they had heard came from a group of people that were playing on the edge of the dancing area.

Predictably, Hook was the first to react.

"Excellent, a party!" he said, rubbing his hands in anticipation, "I could do with some ale, right now. Or rum. Rum's good."

And without further ado he strode down the hill, not even sparing a glance at his companions, who were gawking at him as though he'd gone mad.

Emma and David charged after him.

"Hook!" Emma hissed, "Wait up! What do you think you're doing? We can't just join in the party, what on earth are we supposed to say if someone asks?"

Hook shrugged. "Don't see why not. Look like there are so many people there they won't notice a few more anyway. Besides, I want my rum."

Emma was so busy gaping at the unbelievable pirate that she forgot to continue running after him. David joined her a couple of seconds later.

"I don't believe him," she said in a strangled voice, "I don't. Believe. Him."

By now, the others had caught up with them as well. All were looking rather wistfully at the party - there was sure to be plenty of food and drink there. And some seats.

Snow approached her daughter cautiously.

"Emma," she said gently, "why is it such a bad idea to go and see? We could go and speak to them, ask them if they've seen Greg and Tamara or Henry. Maybe Hook is right, maybe we could just mingle with the people. The best thing we can do is to make contact with them."

Emma was wringing her hands, hesitating. Her desire to find her son as soon as possible was battling with her instinct that told her to stay unseen and as discrete as possible.

"I know," she said miserably, "but I just wish Hook wasn't so...rash."

"We'd find Henry so much sooner if we planned everything carefully instead of just rushing into things and making them up as we go along." said Regina, frowning and shifting her legs irritably (her feet really did quite hurt a lot). "I suggest we make Hook understand that as soon as possible - or we could find ourselves in trouble sooner than we should."

David grinned.

"To be honest, all I want to do right now is get down there and grab something to eat." he said.

Emma smiled and Snow laughed. Regina and Gold remained impassive, but they couldn't entirely hide their eagerness for food either.

Agreed, they descended the hill together and joined Hook, who was already at the bottom of the hill.

They found him stock-still and staring bemusedly at the lively party before them.

The others stared as well, because the party was full of children. Every person they could see was three foot nine at the most, and they could see no adults whatsoever.

"A children's party?" asked Hook in disbelief to nobody in particular. "No chance of getting rum from a gang of runny-nosed squirts." he muttered crossly. He turned to his companions. "Decided to join me, then? Not quite like the festivities of taverns or Tortuga, I can tell you. I say we better find the grown-ups soon, eh? That way we can get information quickly. And rum."

Emma was still looking at the children. Something about them seemed slightly odd. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something was definitely amiss. Some of them seemed to walk and run quite stooped...

"Well, we can always ask the kids where the adults are." she reasoned aloud. "You stay here while I go talk to one."

She approached the nearest child, tapped him on the shoulder, then leaped back as she saw he had the face of an old man. His face was covered with wrinkles and a considerably annoyed expression. His curly hair was - now that she close enough to see clearly - black streaked with silver and white all over.

"Yes?" he asked abruptly, "What is it? Hurry up, I want to get some ale before those greedy Bracegirdles drink it all."

Emma was still reeling from the surprise from seeing an old man that was a head less than her son.

"S...Sorry" she stammered, "Wrong person. I...sorry. Go ahead."

The strange little creature scurried off muttering "Bothered for nothing...Big Folk these days... I ask you..."

As he hurried off, they could see he had abnormally large and hairy feet; larger, in fact, than any grown man's, and pointed ears that peeked out of his masses of curly hair.

Emma turned to her parents, who were looking just as startled as she felt.

"What...Who...What was th-"she began to ask, but was cut off as what felt like a small cannonball knocked her over. She tumbled to the ground, wriggling, trying to get the attacker off her person, but found another strange little dwarf - this one significantly younger - staring back at her.

He scrambled off her, dusting his doublet (that was another strange thing; all the little people seemed to be dressed in some kind of medieval fashion) and spluttering apologies.

"Begging your pardon, Miss" he said, though not looking at her. He was busy looking around him, as though he was scared of someone catching him. "Didn't see you there... Wasn't looking... My fault entirely... Sorry..."

Emma groaned in response. Snow helped her up, struggling to keep a straight face. When she was reassured that her daughter wouldn't suffer any permanent damage, she turned back to the little dwarf, who by now had noticed their strange appearance and superior height, and was staring at them curiously.

Before Snow could speak, however, he was on again.

"Oh, are you Big folk? Haven't seen any in the Shire for many years. Of course the only Big person around here's Gandalf. You wouldn't be friends of his, would you? He's marvelous, he is. Amazing fireworks, like magic - but then of course he can do magic, he's a wizard, and - Merry, there you are, come on!" the last bit he had addressed to another curly-haired creature, who was hurrying towards them, carrying a large red package.

"Did you have any cake?" he asked, talking to Emma again. Before she could answer, however, he was off again. "I had some. It was that big strawberry cake, with lots of cream on it. Wonderful stuff, you should try it."

The other little creature had caught up with his friend and interrupted him.

"Pippin! Come on, then, help me with this thing before Gandalf sees us!" he hissed. Only then did he notice Emma and her entourage. He looked as taken aback as Emma had during her first encounter with one of his kind.

Unlike Emma, however, he recovered quickly.

"Hullo!" he exclaimed, "Big Folk are you? What are you doing in the Shire, then? I heard most of your kind keep themselves to themselves. Are you friends with Gandalf?"

This was the second time that question had been fired at her in as many minutes, and Emma was getting steadily more annoyed and confused.

"No," she said shortly, still dusting her hands on her jeans, "We're not. Who is this...Gandalf, anyway? And... Look I'm sorry if this sounds rude, but what exactly are you? A dwarf?" she blurted out, unable to restrain herself any longer.

The second creature grinned, not at all offended.

"I'm a hobbit. My name's Meriadoc Brandybuck, and this is my cousin, Peregrin Took. But everyone calls us Merry and Pippin."

He held out a hand; quite a difficult task, as he needed both hands to hold the massive red parcel he was carrying. Finally, he compromised by thrusting it in his cousin's arms, and Emma shook his hand, feeling awkward (he was the height of a five-year-old child for God's sake!).

"I'm Emma... Emma Swan. This is Mary-Margaret, and David."

"And I'm Regina, this is Hook, and here's Gold." interjected the queen, who was approaching the little group with the two arch-enemies behind her.

Emma rounded on her. "What are you doing?"

"Thought we'd come and join the conversation, love." Hook said brightly. "Bushes and crocodiles hardly make good conversationalists, you know."

Emma rolled her eyes and turned back to the hobbit.

"We're... We're not exactly from here, could you tell us...?"

Merry chuckled.

"Oh, I can see you're not from here, all right. The nearest village of men is Bree, and that's a few days' journey away. Anyway, this is the Shire, and you're in Hobbiton, the main town."

Emma blinked. None of that information sounded familiar. But then they were in a different world after all.

"Okay. Um... Thanks. And...er, what...world is this?" she asked uncertainly. She immediately regretted her choice of words. Who on earth asked what world they were in? Ah, but then we're not on earth, are we?

The hobbit looked surprised.

"World?" he repeated, looking puzzled, "Well, Middle-Earth, I suppose. But how did you not know that?" he asked, frowning.

Emma forced a smile.

"Like I said: we're...ah...not from here. And we came here rather...er...unexpectedly."

Merry still looked a bit suspicious, so Mary-Margaret quickly changed the subject.

"Did you mention somebody who was a wizard?"

Merry and Pippin immediately focused on her instead.

"Gandalf? Yes, he's a wizard." answered Pippin, his voice slightly muffled by the parcel. "He's the tall person all in grey, over there. Long beard, pointy hat, big staff."

"Perhaps you should talk to him." said Merry. "He knows all about Middle-Earth. Maybe he can tell you all you need to know."

The six strangers looked over to where he was pointing. Indeed, they now saw the first normal-sized person they had seen yet in Middle-Earth. A very tall, very thin, very old man was standing in the centre of a mass of children, who were squealing at a shower of gold sparks he had just set off. To their surprise and somewhat to their alarm however, he seemed to sense their gaze, and looked over to them. He caught Emma's eye. She immediately had the impression of going through an X-ray, so piercing was his gaze.

He started to stride over to them, and their new hobbit acquaintances jumped in alarm.

"Well, we'll be off, then. Nice meeting you all!" Merry called behind his shoulder as they hurried off, awkwardly carrying the parcel between both of them.

As the man ("- wizard - Gandalf - whatever" thought Emma) approached, the little group looked at each other nervously, each apparently silently asking the other what to do or say.

Gandalf glanced at the retreating hobbits, at Emma's dusty clothes, and finally at the strangers themselves. He took in their different apparel, their tired faces, and Hook's namesake. Hook remained stoic, although in truth the old man's gaze felt unnatural to him.

"I'm sorry for the disturbance." said David diplomatically, his royal training kicking in. "My name is David Nolan. This is Mary-Margaret, my wife, and Emma Swan, Regina Mills, Gold, and..." he stopped, unsure whether to give Hook's real name or his alias.

Hook had no such dilemma.

"Captain Hook. At your service." he said with a slight bow and a smirk.

David was busy rolling his eyes at Hook, so Emma spoke in his stead before Gandalf could notice.

"We truly apologize for intruding on this party, but we really didn't mean to arrive here. We just needed to find someone as soon as possible."

She then proceeded to tell him their story, omitting all the magic from it, and the disasters in Storybrooke, making it sound as though Henry had been kidnapped from another world into this one, and they had followed suite in Hook's ship, hoping to catch up and find him. She also left out the fact that she and Regina sort of shared Henry.

If Gandalf found this story strange, he showed no sign of it. In fact, he was staring at Emma as she told their story, and didn't seem to notice the nervous glances her companions shot at each other at her deliberate omissions.

When she had finished, his gaze shifted to each of her companions in turn, resting the longest on Gold, then on Hook. Both men held his gaze evenly, though Hook was secretly relieved when the old man looked away.

"I sense no deceit in your tale, though you do not tell all." Gandalf said plainly, looking once more at Emma. "Your strange attires and your manner of speech, however, are proof enough. And I must say I have never seen or heard the like; yet I believe to have travelled across this world more so than any other. Where did you say you departed from, milady?"

Slightly taken aback by being addressed to as 'milady', it was a moment before Emma answered. Feeling Hook's smirk behind her, she hurriedly told him. "North America, Maine. Storybrooke" she clarified.

Gandalf looked thoughtful.

"Hmmm..." he mused, tapping his pipe against his teeth. "I have heard of neither. But it is quite clear that you are not from here, however. I would suggest not leaving the county of the Shire, it can be considerably dangerous, especially these days."

Before she could answer though, he spoke again.

"Come," he said warmly "let me not speak of dark tidings. This party is to celebrate the one-hundred-and-eleventh birthday of my good friend, Bilbo Baggins, and the thirty-third of his nephew, Frodo. I am sure they will be more than happy to invite you all to join in the festivities. You will not be able to find your son if you neglect your own needs. Eat, drink, and rest, you all look dead on your feet!"

He chuckled good-naturedly, and waved at them to go enjoy themselves among the other guests.

Hook frowned at the old man's retreating back.

"I don't trust him." he said bluntly.

Emma hesitated. She too was looking at Gandalf as he returned amongst the hobbits. She shrugged.

"He seemed kind enough," she said, "and he did say we could join the party. Anyway, apparently he trusts us enough to do so. That's good enough for me. We're the strangers here, remember? Come on, let's go eat, I'm starving."

Too eager to protest, the others followed, and they all joined Bilbo's guests.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

While Emma, Mary-Margaret and David found that may puzzled glances were directed at them, they were relieved to see that no-one questioned them much. Emma couldn't face telling their story again, anyway.

They soon found seats, and went to help themselves to food. They marvelled at the sheer amount of it: huge trays loaded with meat, cakes the size of tractor-tyres, bowls as big as Jacuzzis overflowing with fruit, barrels taller than David full of ale.

They sat down with their plates, and soon found themselves immersed in a conversation with curious hobbits. They fortunately didn't want to talk about the Charming's whereabouts, though. They seemed fascinated by family history, and were delighted to hear from Emma about the warped family tree they were part of. When Emma told them about Regina being Henry's adoptive mother, her mother's stepmother, and her own step-grandmother, the steadily-growing-larger crowd of hobbits around them gasped and laughed with surprise.

All in all, the hobbits proved to be cheerful and warm company, if a little too food-orientated in Emma's opinion. And apart from one moment when everybody around her seemed to think they were under a dragon attack, the evening was getting rather fun. In fact, she found herself having a very good time while listening to a funny story told by an old hobbit she thought the name of was 'Old Gaffer', something she would have thought impossible only an hour ago, tortured as she was by her desperate search for her son.

As she laughed out loud at the climax of the story, Regina climbed onto the bench to sit beside her. This was unusual, as normally the queen tended to stay as far away from her as possible, except when she wanted her help, or to reprimand her for something. For this reason, Emma looked at her enquiringly, wondering what on earth she was supposed to have done now to deserve another berating.

Regina leaned in.

"It seems we have a problem, Miss Swan." she said in a low voice.

"Why, what's wrong?" Emma asked, slightly alarmed.

"Hook."

"What's the matter with him?"

Regina indicated towards the dance floor with her head.

Emma looked, and immediately choked on her drink.

Hook was dancing in the middle of a ring of pretty little hobbit maidens, all laughing and dancing around him. Emma wasn't sure whether to laugh or groan. Hook was visibly pissed out of his mind; he was waving his arms above his head, stumbling uncertainly in the centre of the circle. He had a mug of beer in his hand, and his hook was waving about rather dangerously. As the music reached its end, he took a wobbly bow, and in doing so tipped all his ale over a middle-aged hobbit woman, who was so busy laughing she didn't seem to notice. As the group of giggling girls scattered away, he stumbled once again, but this time he fell facedown onto the ground.

Emma nudged David and pointed at Hook. Her father rolled his eyes, but climbed off the bench and went with Emma to pick him off the ground. Together, they hauled him up and half-dragged, half-frog-marched him across the dancing green over to their table. They managed to sit him on the edge of a bench (Regina pointedly slid over to the other side), and he collapsed onto the table, laying there like a huge black spider with a particularly sharp and shiny pincer.

Out of breath from hauling Hook halfway across a field, Emma looked around for Mary-Margaret, vaguely wondering what she would have to say about this. She found her amid a group of chattering hobbit women, laughing and smiling at something in her arms. As Emma looked more closely, she saw that the thing inside Mary-Margaret's arms was a baby. A tiny, curly-haired hobbit baby. Emma moved a little closer, and she noticed that the infant was only slightly larger than her mother's hand. Feeling as though she walking in on a rather intimate scene, Emma stayed where she was, not wanting to disturb her friend. Mary-Margaret, however, had no such qualms; she looked up, grinned, and waved her daughter over.

"Look at her!" she breathed when her daughter joined her. "Isn't she adorable?"

Emma considered the minute infant. She had masses of curly black hair, large blue eyes, and a tiny button nose. The little girl smiled at Emma and gurgled, enjoying all the attention.

"Yeah," said Emma, trying to sound enthusiastic, "Yeah, she is..."

Mary-Margaret was radiant with happiness, laughing, smiling and cooing at the child as though she were her own.

Emma felt awkward. Was her friend really thinking what Emma thought she was thinking? Sure, the kid was cute, but Mary-Margaret already had her - a daughter - and Henry. Did she want another child?

Emma was still pondering these strange and unsettling thoughts when she suddenly noticed an increase in the cheers and shouting. She looked up, and saw an old and venerable-looking hobbit climbing onto a barrel, to shouts of encouragement and demands for a speech.

"This must be Bilbo." she thought.

The hobbit started his speech. He sounded a warm and overall good-natured fellow, and Emma smiled at the pleasantries at the beginning, though quickly got confused at the less-than-common way he phrased his sentences.

"Tonight I also have the pleasure of having new guests at my party." continued Bilbo. "Strangers from distant lands, who have done me the honour of joining me tonight." A few hobbits who had made acquaintances with the newcomers turned 'round and raised their mugs at Emma and her companions, drinking to their health. "While they have managed to enjoy themselves (and some of them perhaps too much - the hobbits laughed, having seen Hook collapse), I at least have not yet had the pleasure of meeting them." Bilbo went on, smiling and waving at them. More laughter.

Emma grinned. This Bilbo Baggins really knew how to keep a crowd interested.

She quickly became fascinated, however, as the speech took a decidedly different turn. Bilbo was standing stock-still, his hands behind his back as he surveyed the crowd before him. His face, previously full of humour and cheerfulness, was now serious and strained.

"I regret to announce that this is the end." he said, his voice echoing across the now silent party field. "I'm leaving now. I bid you all a very fond farewell. Goodbye."

And he vanished into thin air.

Emma blinked. How on earth had he managed that?

She looked to her companions. David was looking flabbergasted, Gold as though he knew something they didn't, and Regina was as expressionless as ever. Hook, though, was waving his hand - still holding his now empty mug of beer - at the barrel.

"Goodbye!" he called, chuckling.

"How did that happen?" asked Emma.

Regina shrugged, not looking bothered in the slightest. David shook his head. "No idea."

Gold was still looking at the stage, though with curiosity, unlike David.

"Certainly he used magic." he said thoughtfully.

"What?" Emma said sharply. "I thought we couldn't use magic around here."

"Oh no, Dearie. We cannot. But perhaps the natives have found a way of using it."

He was looking very thoughtful as he said so. Perhaps he was plotting yet another way to get magic back to him.

Emma found that thought to disturbing to think about for the moment, and so turned to the others.

Mary-Margaret was still cooing at the child, looking quite undisturbed at the fact that their host had mysteriously disappeared beneath their very nose. Hook was once more slouching over the table, eyeing his mug of ale as though he was seriously considering getting up to fill it again. This proved to be another failure, however, as he toppled right over again as soon as he had gotten to his feet.

Emma sighed and took the mug from him, going to the barrels herself to get ale for him. At least he'll leave us alone if he's drunk.

When she reached the huge mountain of wooden barrels beneath a large canvas tent she encountered Merry and Pippin. Both had very sooty faces and wearing aprons. Pippin was drying a vast pot with a cloth, while Merry was moodily scrubbing at a stack of plates next to a washtub. They brightened considerably when they saw her arrive.

"Hello again!" Pippin said cheerily. "Did Gandalf manage to help you?"

Emma smiled at him.

"Yep," she said, "sorted a few things out, and all. He's a good guy."

Pippin looked slightly confused.

"Man." she corrected herself. "He's a good man."

Pippin nodded happily and went back to his dish, prattling on about how wonderful Gandalf and his fireworks were. Merry was muttering darkly to himself about all the things he'd like to do to Gandalf; preferably with the scrubbing brush he was holding, although the heavy fire-stoker had its merits too.

Emma was only half-listening, she'd just seen something of interest. Beyond the tent, on top of a little hill were patches of light that Emma saw were windows. Behind the windows were two silhouettes that kept moving in and out the light. One of them was remarkably tall, and the other rather stout and old-looking...

She excused herself from the two chattering hobbits, and went to investigate. She left the party field, and went up a small flight of stone stairs to a curious-looking little house that looked like it had been dug from inside the hill itself. As she approached the neat little garden in front of it, the front door opened, and out came Bilbo. He was dressed differently from what he had been wearing at the party, and was carrying a large rucksack and a walking stick. She retreated a little into the shadows, not wanting to look like she was eavesdropping. She saw Bilbo pause and turn around to face Gandalf. The two silhouettes, one so tall and the other so small, exchanged a few words and embraced. Bilbo walked out of his home and followed the path down. As he approached the area Emma was standing, she heard him humming slightly to himself.

He noticed her as she moved forwards, and she could see he recognised her from the party. He smiled at her, raised his hand as though in farewell, and walked passed her into the night.

Emma wanted to call, run after him, but found herself rooted to the spot. Instead, she went up the rest of the path, and entered the garden. It was very pretty, even at nighttime. Bilbo obviously liked flowers and plants.

As she made to cross the threshold, something on the floor caught her eye.

A small golden ring was lying there, as though abandoned. It was a plain, bright gold band, but it caught the firelight so clearly that it made Emma stare at it longer than she normally would have at a piece of jewellery. In fact, the longer she looked at it, the more beautiful it seemed to become. She reached out to it, wanting to touch it, to see if it really was as beautiful up close...

"That ring does not belong to you, and I hope to the Valar that it never does." said a gruff voice.

Emma jumped and looked around. Gandalf was sitting at the fireplace, his back to her, slightly clouded from her sight by a veil of smoke.

"No," she stammered, "no, of course not... I didn't mean to... I'm sorry, I..."

Gandalf turned to her.

His eyes really were very piercing, Emma thought as the old man surveyed her.

His beard twitched, and she saw that he was smiling gently.

"I have told Bilbo about your situation, and you and your companions are welcome to stay here at Bag End." he said kindly. "There's plenty of space for all of you here, and I daresay Frodo will be interested to meet you. However, I would suggest keeping your extraordinary story to yourselves for the time being. Bilbo is gone now, but Frodo is here, and he knows of your tale."

Emma nodded, wanting to thank him for all the hospitality he and Bilbo had shown them, but found her tongue tied under his piercing gaze. He seemed to understand though, and he smiled again.

Suddenly, Emma heard her name being called. She turned, and saw her parents in the distance, evidently looking and calling out for her.

She excused herself for the second time in five minutes, and went to join her companions.

She found her parents in an agitated state. They looked intensely relieved when they saw her, and immediately went over to her.

Snow got there first, and grabbed her daughter's arms.

"Emma, don't you ever do that to us again." she cried fiercely. "Do you realize what we've just been through? You disappeared and nobody saw you go; I thought you'd been taken as well!"

With that, she pulled her close so tightly Emma was beginning to fight for breath.

"Don't make me lose you again." her mother whispered, still hugging her.

Completely nonplussed by her reaction, Emma gently disengaged herself from Mary-Margaret's grip.

"Hey, hey," she said consolingly, "don't worry about me okay? I'm a big girl, I can manage. And I was only gone five minutes anyway; the most that could have happened to me in this place is get run over by a horde of hungry hobbits."

Mary-Margaret smiled, still slightly shaken.

Unfortunately, Hook chose that moment to march uncertainly over to Emma, waggling a beer-mug in her face.

"Hey, lass." he crowed "Where's my beer?"

He staggered into her, knocking her off her feet and onto the ground. This was the second time she had been knocked over by someone in one evening, and Emma was starting to get seriously annoyed. Not to mention bruised, dusty and tired. She wriggled underneath the drunk pirate.

"Gerroff me, Hook!" she shouted in a muffled voice, fighting ferociously under his weight.

She got a rumbling snore for a response.

Nearing rage now, Emma summoned a single burst of strength and shoved him off her body. Breathing heavily and dusting herself off, Emma got up and glared furiously at her parents, who were doubled up laughing.

"Thanks for your help." she said acidly, sarcasm almost literally dripping off her tongue.

David grinned at her.

"You handled it fine by yourself." he said, putting a fond arm around her. "Big Girl indeed. I really don't fancy being Hook to wake up later and discover that you floored him yet again."

Still chuckling, he lead his family over to Gold and Regina, who were still at their table.

Emma informed them of the sleeping arrangements Gandalf had arranged for them, and they set off for Bag End, as they were by now literally drooping with exhaustion.

"What about Hook?" asked Mary-Margaret, ever the soft-hearted one. Everybody glanced at Hook's spread-eagled sleeping form on the grass.

"Who?" Emma asked with a smirk.