I don't own Tolkien...
AN: Thank you to everyone for their nice reviews! On to the story.
"My friends, welcome! Eomer, you're looking well! Galadriel, Haldir, so good of you to come. My Lady, Gimli should like to speak with you. Elrond, I'm so glad that you are here! I should like to speak privately with you later," Aragorn exclaimed as his guests filed into the council room that had been prepared for them.
"If it is about Arwen, it is your own fault, Aragorn. I tried to dissuade you by making you become all of these things, such as king, before you could marry her. When you had almost achieved these goals, I tried to do you a favor by sending her to Valinor. So I do not want to hear about how she is driving you mad," Elrond brushed him off.
"Damn, so much for that idea," Aragorn muttered.
"STRIDER!" four small voices, low to the ground, called from the doorway.
"My dear hobbits!" Aragotn greeted them warmly.
"STRIDER! MINAS TIRITH HAS THE BEST MUSHROOMS!" Pippin shouted, his feet pattering on the floor stones as he ran to the king.
"Pippin, where did you get these mushrooms you speak of?" he asked, taking Pippin aside as he watched the remaining three hobbits struggle to drag in the representation of the Shire. "That's fine, no one give them assistance or anything!" Aragorn commented to the dwarf, elves, and men.
"I FOUND THEM BY THE RIVER!" Pippin answered, his pupils dilated.
"Pippin, you ate...those...mushrooms?" Aragorn asked, his eyes growing wide.
"Oh, no. Pippin, you aren't supposed to eat those mushrooms," Aragorn groaned.
"What the matter with Pip?" Merry asked, coming to Aragorn's side.
"Did any of the others eat any of the mushrooms?" Aragorn questioned him.
"No, didn't get a chance. He ate them all, selfish bastard. So what's wrong with him?" Merry wanted to know.
""Pippin is high on mushrooms," Aragorn explained wearily.
"Will he be alright?" Frodo asked, joining them.
"Eventually, but we will have to restrain him for the meantime. Wait, I have a better idea," Aragorn smirked. He pointed Pippin to a heavily guarded room.
"ARWEN!" Pippin shouted once securely in the room.
"Aragorn, I hate you!" Arwen could be heard yelling.
"And don't you dare let either of them out!" Aragorn instructed the guards, amidst his laughter.
A few hours later, after Aragorn had finished showing the group some of the improvements made to Minas Tirith, they returned to the council room to discuss the replications. They all sat at a large circular table after after putting the miniatures of Minas Tirith, Ithilien, the Golden Hall of Rohan, Bag End, Moria, Rivendell, Lothlorien, and Mirkwood on a long table against one of the walls.
"Lord Elrond, what do you think of these?" Frodo asked.
"Perhaps they are similar to the palantiri, and have the ability to communicate with each other," Elrond answered.
"Or maybe they're like the Lady's mirror, and can predict the future!" Sam piped up.
"Or have the ability to relive the past," the dwarf smiled evily, going over to the side table and placing the figure of Legolas into one of the room where weapons were manufactured for the army of Minas Tirith.
"Gimli, no!" Legolas shouted, diving over the table, grabbing the figure out of the room. Legolas looked around to find everyone staring at him oddly, except for Gimli, of course, who wore a smirk.
"Mellon-nin, what is going on? What does Gimli speak of?" Galadriel asked gently.
"Why don't you just read his mind like you do everyone else's and find out?" Celeborn muttered. Gimli responded by giving him a swift kick in the shins, as he did whenever anyone spoke a word against Galadriel. Legolas rolled his eyes at the scene, then gestured for everyone to take a seat.
"Everything began in November, or the Shire month of Hithui..."
