The last ember in Tolkien's pipe faded out as he and Gandalf walked out onto a grassy sward of land ringed by trees. The grass was a vivid emerald green, that almost seemed to glow.
Short figures danced and capered on the shimmering grass, calling happily to one another. Their voices were cheery, and clear, and unmistakably the voices of hobbits.
Tolkien smiled, and stopped before stepping any farther, simply observing the hobbits at their play. Gandalf stood beside him, and the rest stood behind them.
"They are so happy," remarked Tolkien.
"They'll be even happier when they see you." Gandalf said. "They've been looking forward to meeting you for so long."
"Let's not keep them waiting any longer, then." Tolkien said, and strode forward towards the hobbits. The hobbits' play stopped as they saw the approaching figures, and they ran forward, meeting Tolkien halfway, leaping on him and sending them all down in a pile, with the professor in the middle.
Gandalf and the elves looked on with smiles.
When Tolkien managed to regain his feet, he patted each of the hobbit's heads, and hugged Frodo warmly. "Where is your uncle, Frodo?" Tolkien asked, looking over the group of hobbits and seeing only, Sam Merry and Pippin.
"He's with Thorin," Frodo replied.
"That's to be expected," said Tolkien, releasing Frodo from his embrace and likewise hugging Sam, Merry and Pippin.
"Let's go see Bilbo." Tolkien announced, holding Merry and Pippin's hands.
"I'll race you there!" Frodo yelled, running off with Sam.
"Not me, I'm too old!" Tolkien laughingly called after them.
"You're much younger than me, Lord Tolkien." a voice declared, and Saruman emerged from the ring of trees.
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