Gandalf was amused. Their stay in Rivendell was ,almost entirely ,making up for the hassle of getting there in the first place. For one, the young Princes had finally realized the real gender of their Ones, somewhat ironic in the fact that they were the last, except for the ever-oblivious Dwalin and Thorin of course. Gandalf strongly suspected that those two wouldn't have realizes that Dis was a woman, until she was giving birth, except for the political necessity of announcing the gender of royal dwarves at birth.

They young couples, and not-so-young couple were entertainment enough, with their sappy grins and blushes, especially since Fili and Kili were under the fond impression that the Company had no idea that their accepted courtships had been noticed, by everyone but Dwalin and Thorin, who were still quite, quite drunk, a full day later. Elrond blamed his sons for spiking the King and Bodyguard's drinks again, and again. And again for good measure, but Gandalf had his own suspicions; Nori and Oin were smirking and exchanging conspiratorial glances whenever one of the drunken duo did something particularly noteworthy.

Well, it was a good tactic to keep suspicion under control, and prevent...incidents... with the most paranoid dwarves and their elven hosts. Which was probably why Balin wasn't intervening, like he would normally. That, and the old dwarf was as amused by the second stage of Thorin's drunkenness, once he got the moping out of his system with a brawl with the majority of the company. It turned out that the surly dwarven king became easy-tempered and very, very affectionate when drunk.

So far, Thorin had hugged Elrond for a good five minutes, rambling about how nice the elven Lord was for putting up with so many crazy dwarves, and how pretty the elves were, like mithril jewelry. It'd taken a bit for the watchers to stop laughing to hard to breathe. Elrond had taken it gracefully, but went off hunting for his sons with a decidedly annoyed look as soon as he could breathe again; Thorin had a tight hug.

Then of course, there was the scene currently presenting itself to the guffawing wizard; Bilbo was being squashed as Thorin hugged Fili and Kili, praising them as wonderful boys, the best heirs a dwarf could have, and better than any sons he could ever have. A particularly loud squeak and violent flail brought the drunk's attention to the hobbit.

"An' yer so sweet'n...an'...really pretty, like a lass. Cute, to. I think you'n'Fili woul' be'a cute couple, like Balin'n'Oin are, an' Kili'n'Ori would be. But yer cuterer...cuterest? Like a kitten. Soft'n'fluffy til th' claws come ou'. You smell nice, and are nice t' hug. No armor or flow-y robe things t' get inna way, Kitten." By now, Thorin had picked Bilbo up and was carrying her to 'his' spot at the table, next to Dwalin, and sitting down still holding her.

"Kitten?" Dwalin perked up. "Where'sa th' kitten? I likesh kittens."

"Bilbo'th kitten. Cute'n'fluffy til th' hobbit's claws come out. Then fluffy wi'th'claws."

"He's only observant when he's drunk, thankfully. If not the most eloquent," Balin snorted, drinking a mug of tea Oin had given those who were hungover. Which was everyone but the young pairs of lovebirds, and Gandalf, who had only had a single mug of the spiked brew, recognizing the taste at once. You weren't a frequent guest in Rivendell for thousands of years without becoming wary of Elladan and Elrohir. Fili rescued Bilbo, with a glare at his uncle, muttering about 'hobbit stealing'. His jealousy was cute, and completely unnecessary.

"Oh, excellent, it looks like the fun is about to start. The 'Ri's and 'Ur's are gearing up for the death threats. I'd've thought that they would have noticed the courtship braids sooner, but I guess being busy trying to not throw up your toenails will do that to you." Oin said affably, leaning against her love.

Kili was backing away from Dori's clenching and unclenching fists and the wickedly sharp daggers of Nori, while Fili was edging away from Bifur, with his spear, Bofur's mattock, and Bombur's ominously swinging ladle. Gloin, chortling in his voluminous beard, got the lasses attention to what was happening to their lads and all havoc broke loose.

"Do-ri, No-ri! WHAT are you doing?" Ori demanded, fingers twitching in her fury, like she was contemplating strangling her brothers. Said siblings froze, and gave her a matching, guilty, pleading expression. It would have been hilarious, if the scribe's eyes hadn't been so big, and tearful. That made it all the more hysterically funny for the wizard, who had his pipe stolen a few too many times.

"He...he's not good enough for you?" Nori ventured, but it sounded more like a question.

"B-but, don't you want me to be happy? Kili makes me happy." Ori sniffled into her scarf; Gandalf was trying very, very hard to keep a straight face as the guilt-trip was wielded expertly against the mother-hen and hardened criminal. He wouldn't ruin it by laughing too soon. He wouldn't. Even if he had to chew on his beard to do so.

"B-but he's young...reckless...doesn't have a craft..." Dori held out only heartbeat longer than the younger 'Ri brother.

"B-but he's mine, and I love him, and none of us will need crafts after this, Dori," She whimpered, and the single tear on her cheek had them caving so fast that Gandalf almost expected to hear a rock-slide.

Meanwhile, a furious Bilbo, wielding one of Bombur's frying pans, was chasing the 'Ur's around the courtyard, somehow managing to keep all three of them busy, barely able to block or dodge the blows as she ranted.

"How. Dare. You!" Each word was punctuated with a swing. "It is-" clang; Bombur's ladle was far sturdier than it looked, apparently, "my life-" Whoops, there went Bofur's hat, off the balcony, "and my decision-" Bifur's spear was going to need repair work before they left Rivendell, if Bilbo kept things up, "who I" Ouch. Just. Ouch. That had to be a couple of broken fingers for Bifur, between the spear and pan. "want to spend" Who knew that Bombur could squeak so shrilly, as he tried to hide behind Gloin, who was all but rolling on the floor laughing. "the rest of" Bofur tripped over Ori's blatantly out-stretched foot, landing on top of Nori. "it with!" Bilbo snarled.

"Sorry! We're sorry!" Bofur yelped, Bifur and Bombur adding in their fervent agreements, having been cornered against the railing and a twenty foot drop. The frying pan paused mid-swing, and Bilbo smirked.

"Good," with a final caress of the heavy metal implement, which stayed by her side, she turned to Ori, and proposed finding Elrond's library, which was enthusiastically accepted, and of course required the escort of Fili and Kili.

"What'd I tell ya? Hobbit's scary, like kittens." Thorin mumbled.

"I like kittensh. C'n I have a kitten, pleash, Balin, dearesht brother? Pleash?" Dwalin begged, but Gandalf thought that his 'cute' look was closer to constipated, than effective, like Ori's.

"Mahal save me." Balin sighed.

A/N: Beware the frying-pan wielding hobbit! And Ori's cute guilt-trip of doom! LOL. This turned out a bit crack-ier than intended. Oops. Oh well, at least we got Gandalf in there. And we updated, even with Google Docs being stupid and insisted that there was an error... Love you all, dear readers, have a Bilbo-kitten! -EM17

What have I told you about giving out kittens? Some people have allergies! Besides, if we have an excuse, we can keep them all for ourselves! MWAHAHAHAHA!(Hahaha)- Person who is not related to Em17, because Em17 is insane and a danger to herself and others. She should be thrown in Thranduil's nice, comfy, prison.

Bad sister! We are related. I was the first person besides a nurse to hold you when you were born! Besides, prisons are by definition NOT nice or comfy. Also, don't be selfish, share the kitty love. If we keep all the kitties, YOU are doing the litterbox ad hairball clean-up. -EM17 (who probably shouldn't get into arguments with her co-author in the Authors' Notes)

I refuse to admit that I'm related to you. There was a swap at the hospital. That's my excuse and I'm sticking by it. And prisons made of pillows are comfy, if not very secure. Fine, we can give some of the kittens away, but only if I get a horse. -Person who is STILL NOT RELATED TO EM17(and who finds it amusing to get into arguments with Em17 in the Author's Notes and who is going to have the last word so there.)

No you aren't! And by refusing to admit it, you effectively admitted it. HA!