The auditorium was filled with parents, grandparents, and assorted family members, all crowded together, their cameras and phones shining brightly in front of them in preparation for the play. Belladonna shoved aside a rather pushy mother as she made her way to the spot Freya was saving for her. Bungo apologized profusely to the mother who hit his arm with her purse. Finding it easier to make a tactical surrender, he quickly followed his wife who was chatting with Freya.
" – and this is my husband Thrain," Freya finished, having introduced Belladonna to the rest of the kids' parents. They were all rather large and bushy faced, compared to Belladonna and Bungo, but they were quiet jovial and were quite enthusiastic in their greetings.
The house lights flickered on and off and a stern voice came on over the intercom, "The show will begin momentarily. Please remember to turn off ALL electronic devices, so as not to disturb the other audience members. If you would like a copy of today's performance, orders will be taken AFTER the show, so turn off your iPhones and tablets and all those other nonsensical gadgets that you've come to be dependent on and just enjoy watching your children make complete and utter fools of themselves." There was the sound of a brief scuffle and the voice hissing, "Get to your spots, you little devils," before returning to his spiel. "That is all. Enjoy the show."
Freya laughed, leaning over and whispering in Belladonna's ear, "That's Mr. White. Bitter old thing. I was more than overjoyed when Thorin got Mr. Grey instead."
Belladonna nodded in agreement. "Bungo and I always thought it odd he followed Gandalf here, but I suppose when you're hopelessly in love with someone…" she trailed off, shushing Bungo, despite his silence, as the lights dimmed down all the way and Gandalf stepped on stage.
He stood before the curtains, a pleased smile tugging on his lips and a very dangerous twinkle in his eye. "Welcome, one and all," he greeted. "Our story today is a simple one about a most magical man and his very charming friends."
Gandalf gave a bow and the curtains opened behind him to reveal the splendid set, decorated in lights and tinsel and everything else the children insisted would be found in Santa's workshop. There were candy canes taped to the walls and hanging from what would be the ceiling, and plates of cookies were on every available surface. It was, most honestly, a disaster.
But the parents had only eyes for their children, each gushing at their lovely babies, dressed up as elves or reindeer. One of the fathers Belladonna had been introduced to guffawed loudly, yelling, "that tree's my boy!" The tree in questioned waved, and Belladonna noted that it was Bofur dressed as a Christmas tree.
A small boy in an apron sat in a rocking chair, scolding one of the reindeer for eating one of the cookies.
"Those belong to Santa," the boy (clearly Mrs. Claus) said, wagging a finger at the reindeer child, just as Bilbo, dressed as Rudolph, came on stage with a forlorn expression. "What's the matter, Rudolph?" Mrs. Claus asked.
"I can't find Santa!" he shouted, putting his hand quite dramatically on his cheeks and shaking his head as if it were a true tragedy. Belladonna and Bungo giggled uncontrollably at their son's attempt at acting.
A rather grumbly Thorin dressed as a reindeer, along with several others, came on stage and as a chorus denied any knowledge of knowing where Santa Claus could possibly be. There was a cute song about what an important job Santa Claus has that was quickly followed by Mrs. Claus saying, "I think I hear him now."
All the children turned their attention to the left side of the stage, but no one entered. The kids all stared at one another, as Mrs. Claus yelled, "Thranduil get on stage now!"
The parents erupted into laughter at the break in character, but Thranduil didn't come on stage. The boy stomped his foot and marched right off stage shouting for Thranduil. The other kids just sort of stood there, shuffling their feet.
Bilbo, on the other hand, was looking for his parents, and Belladonna and Bungo waved at him. Bilbo jumped up and down and showed off his antlers, poking Thorin in the side and pointing out his parents. Thorin wiggled his fingers in salutation, blushing when he heard his sister call out, "Toh!"
Suddenly Mr. Brown shuffled onstage and cleared his throat. "If Mr. Greenleaf's parents could come back stage, it would be much appreciated." He turned to go back off stage before returning his attention to the audience. "We will be taking a very brief and very much scheduled intermission," he told them, before scurrying away, the curtains closing and the children talking over one another.
Belladonna and Freya shared a look before Belladonna took out her phone and dialed a very familiar number.
"Hello, Bella, dear."
"What's going on," she demanded.
"Oh nothing in particular," Gandalf told her. "Just a spot of trouble. Clear it up in no time. Don't worry your sweet head."
He hung up the phone and smiled grandly at Mr. and Mrs. Greenleaf who were being placated by Radagast, though Gandalf had to admit, he was not doing a very good job of it.
Gandalf straightened his barely ruffled shirt and went to the parents.
Meanwhile, Thorin was staring down Nori who looked very very guilty.
"I didn't do anything, I swear," he insisted, avoiding looking at the crying Thranduil who had somehow, unbelievably, broken his leg, tripping over a prop that had been left on the floor. Thorin, of course, wasn't too sure that was the real reason. He had seen Nori behind him just before being hustled on stage.
"You were with him last," Thorin countered, staring down Nori. He may have told his friends to make Thranduil's life difficult upon getting cast as Santa, but he didn't think they'd stoop to physical harm. A broken leg! Honestly.
Nori held his ground, saying, "He fell after I left. I didn't so much as touch him." Then with a guilty look Nori continued, "Though I did call him an ape in a red suit."
"It's just a sprain!" Mr. Brown yelled over the children, patting Thranduil on the head as his parents lifted him, the nurse right behind.
Bilbo was watching quietly beside Gandalf, and once Thranduil was taken away, he pulled on Mr. Grey's sleeve. Gandalf bent down to better make eye contact. "Yes, Mr. Baggins?"
"What about the play?" Bilbo asked. "We can't go on without Santa."
Gandalf chuckled, ruffling Bilbo's curls. "I suppose we should cancel the show," Gandalf murmured before landing his eyes on Thorin who was currently tossing the Santa Claus hat at Dwalin. "Or," he said much louder and in an entirely scheming way, "we could find someone new to replace Mr. Greenleaf."
A light went on in Bilbo's head and he took hold of Gandalf's face, staring into his teacher's eyes intently. "I know exactly who should be Santa Claus," he proclaimed before running off.
Belladonna pulled at her licorice, the third in the last fifteen minutes, and looked forlornly on stage.
"What do you suppose is happening?" Fundin whispered, leaning next to Bungo who shrugged his shoulders in reply. The man was exceptionally large, especially compared to his wife, Alvi, who had to be half his height and weight. It was no wonder Dwalin was a very big boy, or that his older brother Balin, who was kicking at the seat in front of him, was so small.
The lights flickered once more and the parents all shushed, eager to find out just what was going on around here. Radagast came on stage once again, looking more nervous and frazzled then before. He cleared his throat and gave a pained smile, no doubt trying to look reassuring.
"There was a small accident," he told the parents, "but everything has been taken care of. That said, there will be a small casting change, but nothing to fear." He smiled once again and walked off stage, just as the curtains opened.
The children were all where they had last been except for one very important reindeer.
"Where's Thorin?" Freya whispered to Thrain.
"I think I hear him now!" Mrs. Claus shouted, no doubt praying that someone would walk on stage rather than the disaster that had occurred not half an hour earlier. But still no one came on stage.
Bilbo was giggling into his hands and staring off stage. "Santa!" Bilbo cried out, just as a very odd looking Santa Claus staggered on stage as if pushed. He stumbled over his feet and stared out at the audience, eyes wide and fear apparent.
"Thorin?" Freya breathed, caught just as off guard as her son.
Poor Thorin was wearing a very ill fitting Santa outfit, made for a much taller and thinner boy than himself. His hat was askew as if thrown on him at the last minute, and his beard was finding a home within his mouth.
Thorin tugged at his coat and every mechanically said, "Ho ho ho." He paused a moment to clear his throat while Freya put her head in her hands. That was her boy.
"What's everyone yelling for?" he continued, just as robotically, a painful smile plastered on his face. "I'm right here."
And then the children broke out into song while Thorin stood there, positively frightened and more than a little surprised. The kids all stopped singing and looked expectantly at Thorin who was trying to remember the dance steps he was most likely taught not five minutes ago.
Freya was happy to know the school and all of her family were recording this. She wouldn't pass up this beautiful blackmail material for the world.