There is nothing that I can open this chapter with other than the two words 'Thank you'. Your response to the last chapter was nothing short of incredible, and as I replied to your amazing reviews this evening I actually cried a little (yes, I am a massive sentimental wuss. Deal with it) I am so endlessly grateful at the love you have for this story! I would like to mention those I could not reply directly to, including Chey (the other shoe may well drop soon!) Dojoson, Vanishing ghost, Mortha (I am honoured!) Hermione Granger (thank you for yet another lovely review, I hope to answer your questions soon) Lindsey (Yes, Boromir is my baby too and I was more than happy to slot him in here!) Blue Rose (thank you for so much detail, I am so honoured!) I Just Won A Free Toaster Oven and my unnamed guest reviewers.

Thank you all so much.

Once again I must apologise for my late update. Unfortunately there's nothing I can really do to write more at present because second year is crazy intense (I should actually be writing an essay as I type) so I am just splurging out as much as I can onto the keyboard while keeping the quality as high as possible.

On that note, I am utterly exhausted from essays and workshops and presentations and quizzes and the like, so forgive any typos I make. Again.

Once again, I must say thank you, and please do enjoy!

Read, Enjoy, and Review!

Chapter One Hundred and One # Seven Devils #

Twisting her body around the tambourine in her hand, Ellie could not help but smile. It felt like an age since she had danced like this, free and unburdened as a tween – and just as daring.

Her limbs had not forgotten a single step, and she felt the same breathless jubilation she had felt when her cousin Heather persuaded her to dance those steps the respectable adults would not in front of the handsome young Paladin Took.

Ellie had always loved to dance, and as she performed a perfect pirouette she promised herself that she would never leave so long between dances again.

Her curls swayed against her back and then flew through the air as she followed the beat of the music, leaping and rolling and whirling and flying and even her heart seemed to sing along with the music of the street musicians. Additional percussion was supplied by the tambourine they had loaned her, and the enthusiastic, rhythmic clapping of the growing crowd.

The reminder of the crowd furthered the blush on her cheeks, but she could hear Paladin laughing and that was the only opinion she truly cared for anyway. When the music came to its end, Ellie curtsied to an applause that almost deafened her.

Paladin surged over to her with an enormous grin and lifted her into the air the way he would when they were courting. "Ellie, that was amazing!"

She laughed breathlessly and placed her hands on his shoulders. "If you say so."

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, his smile never fading.

"You'll aggravate your wounds," she reminded him, and he lowered her, only to kiss her in front of the entire crowd of men, dwarves and elves.

The laughing cheer was only interrupted when Esme cleared her throat. "Paladin. Get a room."

Paladin turned his face away from Ellie and made a gesture towards his sister than he would never have made in front of their children. Esme, of course, could not care less.

"Ellie, that was phenomenal. Really, well done!" she said.

"Thanks for convincing me to do it," Ellie grinned at her sister-in-law and passed the tambourine back to the musicians, dropping a few coins into the cup as she did so.

"Pfft," Esme waved her hand through the air. "Don't mention it. Can we get food now?"

"Yes, I'm famished," Ellie admitted.

"Me too!" Kíli, Saradoc and Paladin added.

"Already?" Ehren frowned. "You just ate?"

"You haven't travelled with them." Bragi simply looked amused. "They're always hungry."

"And yet always tiny."

"Not always, Soren. You never saw Great Aunt Laila," Esme shuddered and pulled a face.

"Esmeralda!"

"Pal, she could give Bombur a run for his money when it comes to the weight department."

"Alas," Paladins shook his head. "This must be where Nelly gets her lack of manners from."

Esme rolled her eyes. "There is nothing wrong with Nelly's manners. Now – food!"

Ellie shook her head with a wry smile and looped her arm through her husband's, silently telling him to drop the matter. He would never beat his sister at a verbal sparring contest, no matter how hard he tried.

"So… cheesy chips?" Soren suggested.

"Cheesy chips?" Saradoc's eyes widened. "Is that… is that what I think it is?"

Ehren's jaw dropped. "You mean you've never had cheesy chips before?"

"No," Saradoc, Paladin and Kíli shook their heads with wide eyes.

"That's just…" Ehren covered his mouth. "You poor souls. To the chippy!"

Ellie laughed and let Paladin lead her through the crowd. It was strange how folk would part ways when they saw the hobbits advancing – Ellie was more used to being ignored. Now they were the centre of attention, and she was not completely sure how she felt about that.

The children were revelling in it, or at least they had been over the past few days. They loved the idea of being nobility, and they loved the way that they seemed so famous. Today, they were being cared for by Dori, Ori, Bifur and Alfr, who apparently viewed it as an honour and holiday in itself, and while Ellie had no worry for their safety she did hope that the enormous, diverse crowds would not be too much.

It was Vinca who worried her the most – she was so shy. Still, Pearl would look after her sister. She always did.

Now, the idea of putting cheese on chips admittedly made Ellie turn up her nose, but it tasted much better than she had expected, so she filled her stomach on Paladin's food and smiled sweetly when he scowled.

"Take note, lads," Soren said, his voice grave. "The only soul who can safely steal food from a hobbit is their spouse. Anyone else will die a quick but agonising death."

Ehren snorted, reaching into Kíli's bowl. "I highly doubt that."

When Kíli's elbow landed in the young thief's side there was no way Ellie could supress her giggle. Esme did not even try – she was howling with laughter.

"Ah, we trained you well, Kíli!"

"You should've seen it, the first meal we had together," Bragi shook his head. "One of the wolves-"

"It was Luno," said Kíli.

"Luno tried to steal some of Pippin's dinner, and I do not jest, the child smacked the wolf clean on the nose," Bragi recalled.

As the conversation continued, Ellie's attention began to drift. She looked over the festival's main hall, taking in the endless stalls. Some sold food and some drink, while others boasted games that tested one's aim, or chance. Some goaded passers-by into challenges of strength or skill, and some were connected to gleaming iron tracks that belonged to what Fíli called a track-car.

"They're rides," he had explained. "You sit in the little cart and the engineer sends you racing around loops and turns and the like – it's brilliant fun."

Ellie was inclined to agree with him – they had ridden on an absolutely terrifying track that the ride-keeper affectionately called Soar, and at one point their cart had actually flown through the air over a gap in the tracks. It had been among the most stomach-turning, frightening moments of Ellie's life, and she loved it.

She was not sure why exactly, but the way the exhilaration brought by the dizzying motion made her feel a hundred pounds lighter. It was as though the wind whipping against her face was stripping away her worries. Afterwards, her chest had felt almost hollow with her breathlessness, and to her surprise the feeling had been wonderful.

Cathartic. That was what these track-carts were. They were cathartic.

Saradoc did not agree. He had thrown up for three whole minutes after clambering out of Soar's cart. He was never going to live that down.

"Here, have a drink!"

"Oh, Kíli you are an angel," she enthused, relieving Kíli of one of the many tankards he carried.

"I know," he winked, his eyes sparkling. Then he bent forward and planted a kiss on Ellie's forehead and waltzed away to give Esme a drink.

Ellie smiled. It was so good to see Kíli so happy. She had missed his smile over the past months. That the day was already waning grieved her slightly – it was too much fun, too therapeutic to be over so soon. Kíli and Fíli, in particular, were flourishing. Their eyes were dancing and their smiles were bright and true and it just felt wonderful to see that.

Even as she sat there, though, a strange feeling began creeping over her. She felt unsettled, uneasy. A scared, small little voice began to ask if it was a mother's intuition.

There's something wrong with one of your babies, it said. Something is very, very wrong.

"Ellie? Are you alright?"

She looked up at Paladin, and for a split second she wanted to tell him. She wanted him to tell her that she was being silly, that her babies were safe. She wanted him to tell her that she was just worrying because she had not been apart from her children in months. That when she had, it had been… It had been…

Pippin. Where was Pippin, where was her baby?

"Ellie! What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the lie choked her as it left her throat, but her husband looked so scared and he was grabbing her arms and - "Nothing, Pal, really. I was just daydreaming."

He did not look convinced. "Ell…"

"I was just daydreaming and it became more of a nightmare, but I'm fine. There's nothing wrong."

"Alright," he said slowly, looping his arm through hers. "But you'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?"

"Of course," she smiled, squeezing his hand. She took a deep breath. Really, there was nothing wrong. She was just being silly. Everything was alright. "Let's go on another track-cart!"

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow. "I thought the others were heading to the bowling…"

"We can meet them there," she gave her most angelic smile.

A grin slowly spread across his face. "Let's do it!"


Legolas took a long, slow sip of his drink, and admitted in the silent privacy of his own mind that dwarves could make incredible ale. They threw a rather impressive party, too. In fact, the opening speech from the dancer in white was still ringing through his mind.

"Welcome, one and all, to our beautiful home!

We invite you to dance, explore and roam –

But careful now, please do not stray

Into the places we've cordoned away,

For our Mountain Home is safe, secure,

But hazards lurk on derelict floors.

Still worry not about these dangers –

Make-merry now, with friendly strangers.

Smile and feast and play and dance,

Drink and sing and take a chance.

So now, without another thing,

Our merry festival begins!"

It was very clever, he thought, to set down the ground rules in a merry little song. Very clever indeed. He took another sip of his drink and began to observe the mismatched crowd around him. It was a patchwork of clashing clans and colours, this celebration, but it warmed his heart to see it. The children of men ran around with the dwarflings and the few elflings present, with no apparent care for the strife between their people.

"They were right here, right here!"

Legolas frowned slightly and looked up. A few hundred yards away a Lady of Gondor was gesturing frantically at a dwarven guard.

"My lady, please calm down."

"My sons are missing, I will not calm down!"

"When did you last see them?" the guard asked calmly.

"Right there!" she all but shrieked. "They were, they were there!"

Legolas took a step forward to see what he could do to help, but a call from behind him made him hesitate.

"Legolas!" The elf turned to see Gimli behind him, with a pale Estel in tow. "Thank Mahal, Legolas are the little lads with you?"

"The little lads?"

"Frodo, Merry, Pippin, Sam," Estel worried. "They're gone, we can't find them anywhere. They said they wanted to find you and Estel – Dori's in a terrible state and everyone's worried."

"I'll help you look," Legolas promised, sending half a glance to the lady of Gondor.

"What's going on over there?" Estel worried when he followed the elf's gaze.

"I do not know, but it seems that Lord Denethor's sons are also unaccounted for."

Estel looked up with a start, and what little colour left drained from his face. "This is bad. This is very bad."

"Perhaps," Legolas put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Perhaps they have simply run off."

"All of them? At the same time?"

"It is a festival, mellon," the elf made sure to keep his voice calm. "Full of plenty of temptation for curious and mischievous little boys. Nevertheless, let us look for them."

The three hunted through the crowd, and as time passed even Legolas had to admit that he was growing more and more concerned.

And then it happened.

A shatteringly familiar scream of terror drew Legolas to his left, and he pushed his way through the crowd with Estel and Gimli on his heels until he reached the final ride in this particular row - a track inspired by a mine cart that took its riders through loops and drops at impressively fast speeds. A single cart was wheeling towards the exit as they arrived, and no less than six little boys tumbled out.

"That was fun!" Pippin enthused, his voice a little rusty from the scream he had reached Legolas' ears. "Let's do it again!"

"What are you doing there?" the ride-keeper cried. "How did, how did you get on, I sent you away!"

The young son of Gondor's steward – Boromir, if Legolas remembered correctly – leapt to his feet, shedding a coat that was clearly designed for grown man. "Run!"

"Not so fast!" Gimli yelled, and each child froze.

"Estel!" Pippin squealed, clearly unaware that he was in trouble. "Lego-elf!"

The hobbit raced across the floor and vaulted into Legolas' arms. Startled, the elf helped the toddler sit on his forearm and snuggle into his tunic.

"Missed you!" Pippin sang angelically.

"I missed you too, mellon," was his honest – if inadvertent – reply.

"There you are!" Merry cheered, pumping his little fist into the air.

"Where have you been?" Estel seemed to be trying to scold them, but he appeared to be put off by the enthusiasm of Frodo's hug of greeting. "We've looked everywhere for you!"

"You wee rascals!" Gimli scowled. "We thought something terrible happened to you!"

"It did," Sam said in a tiny voice. "I feel sick!"

"Let us get you somewhere quiet for a minute," Legolas kept his voice calm, signalling to a nearby guard. "Would you tell the Lady of Gondor that her children are safe and sound, and in my care? And inform Dori, as well if you would?"

"Will do," the dwarven guard nodded with a jerky bow. "Thank you."

Legolas bowed his head.

"There's a room through here," Gimli huffed, leading them out into one of the side tunnels. "Should be unused."

"Good, that will do," Estel nodded, helping Boromir's little brother up onto his wobbling feet.

"Boromir! Faramir!"

"Uh oh!" Boromir muttered, before smiling. "Hello, Mother!"

"You too," the Lady shook her head. "You will be the death of me!"

"What?" Faramir gasped. "Why?"

"I was very worried," she said, before turning to Legolas, Gimli and Estel. "I thank you profusely for finding them, my Lords."

"Not at all," Legolas inclined his head.

"You told us that you wanted us to make friends," Boromir piped up. "And we have!"

"You have indeed," she sighed.

"These boys will be under close supervision for the rest of the day, and if you like we could look after Boromir and Faramir too," Estel offered.

"Oh, please mother!" Boromir's eyes lit up. "Please!"

"Yes," Faramir nodded. "Please let us play!"

She paused. "You are sure it would not be an inconvenience?"

"Of course not," Legolas bowed his head. "We could deliver them to you at the feast."

"Feast?" Merry's head popped up. "There's a feast?! When's that, can we go now?"

"No, it's for dinner, Auntie Dís said so," explained Frodo.

"Alright then," a wry smile passed over her face. "Faramir… Do you need to visit the bathroom?"

The boy's eyes widened. "No!"

"If I took you to the bathroom and then brought you back to your brother and friends, would you need to go?"

"Yes, please, Mama," Faramir smiled.

"I thought so," she rolled her eyes and held out her hand.

"There's an unused room just over there," Gimli declared. "That's where we'll be until they've calmed down a little."

The Lady bowed. "Thank you, very much."

"You're most welcome," Legolas said.

"Right… Is everybody here?" Gimli did the most aggressive headcount Legolas had ever seen. "Yes? Good. Now, moving out!"

A wry smile stretched across Legolas' faces as the young boys marched one by one behind Gimli, with drooped shoulders and sheepish eyes. None dared run away; in fact they did not even make a sound. Other than Pippin, that was.

"Lego-elf, how come that's not your name?"

His smile strengthened. "Because my father called me Legolas."

"Legless?"

"Leh-go-las," he said slowly. They had had this conversation several times before, and it was no less amusing this time.

"Leh-go-las," Pippin sounded out carefully.

"That's right!"

"Legless!"

"I'd say that's close enough," Estel grinned.

Pippin nodded definitively. "Legless."

The elf shook his head slightly. It was closer than 'Lego-elf', at least.

The room Gimli had spoken of was indeed empty, and the mischief makers flopped down onto the floor, looking happily exhausted – apart from Sam, who just looked green. Legolas knelt down next to him.

"How do you feel, Sam?" he asked gently.

"Little bit sick," the boy admitted. "But… I'll be alright."

Legolas smiled. "Of course you will be."

"So, how did you actually get onto the ride in the first place?" Estel wondered.

"We got turned away," Frodo said. "But then Boromir and Faramir turned up."

"I hid them under Father's coat, and Faramir too," Boromir grinned.

"How on earth did everyone fit?!" cried Estel.

Boromir shrugged with a proud grin. "They just did."

"And they thought you were old enough to get on?" Gimli raised an eyebrow.

"Mmhm, it's easy," Boromir said. "You just do this." With that, the young boy scowled, and sure enough he looked much older than his years.

"I have one question."

"What's that, Gimli?" Merry frowned.

"Why didn't you just ask me? I would've smuggled you all on no problem!"

"We couldn't find you!" protested Frodo. "We did look, but we met Boromir first!"

Gimli shook his head. "Traitors."

"Traitors!" Merry yelped, but his shock froze and turned into a smirk. "Who made friends with an elf now, Gimli?"

Gimli grinned devilishly, and lurched forward, tackling Merry across the room. For a moment, Legolas' heart skipped a beat. The adolescent dwarf was so much bigger and stronger than the little hobbit, and the elf could not imagine Merry emerging from this unscathed. It became almost immediately clear, however, that Gimli was shielding Merry just as much as he was fighting him.

"Merry!" Pippin yelled, scrambling out Legolas' arms to go and help his cousin.

Boromir moved to join, but then his eyes focused on something behind Legolas and he smiled. "Gandalf!"

"Hello, young Boromir," the wizard's eyes were sparkling as he walked into the room with a horse and cart. "How are you enjoying the festival?"

"Oh, definitely!" the boy nodded eagerly.

"Gandalf," Legolas greeted. "I did not expect to see you here today – I heard you were off in the far reaches of the world on an unknown mission."

"It is a work in progress," Gandalf smiled. "And much of my time has been spent in Gondor, has it not, Boromir?"

Boromir nodded, looking at Estel and Legolas. "We helped him find what he needed in the libraries. I didn't know it was possible to have so much fun in a room full of books!"

The wizard chuckled. "Well, I'm pleased to have been the one to introduce you to such a concept."

Boromir gave a little bow and grinned. "If you'll excuse me for a moment."

"Of course," Gandalf said.

The young son of man sprinted across the room. "Not like that, Merry, get him from behind! Come on Pippin, up your guard, I'll show you!"

"I sense the beginning of a wonderful friendship," said Gandalf, putting his pipe in his mouth.

"Gimli is rather outnumbered now," Estel commented as Frodo and Sam leapt forward to join the fray.

"Then I suggest that you go and help him, my lad, and do so swiftly!"

Legolas could see the humour behind Gandalf's stormy eyes, but he could not tell whether Estel could. Either way, he took off running at the pile-on growing in the centre of the room.

"He is growing into a fine young man," Gandalf said.

The elf nodded. "He is very brave, and strong, too."

"Yes, well, it's to be expected."

"I do not quite follow…"

"Well, it's in his blood!"

Legolas blinked, looking over at Estel. "His blood?"

Gandalf's bushy eyebrows travelled up his forehead. "Did Elrond's sons not tell you?"

"I would assume not, since I have not the slightest idea what you speak of, old friend."

Seamlessly, the wizard transferred to the elvish tongue. "That young man's true name is one that I shall not utter for his own safety, and besides, he himself has no knowledge of it yet. He knows himself as Estel, son of Gilraen. A select few know his true heritage as the heir of the one who cast not the One Ring into the fires of Mount Doom."

Immediately, Legolas understood Gandalf's need for riddles. "Truly?"

"Indeed. Lord Elrond and his sons know the truth, as do others who dwell in Rivendell – Glorfindel, for one. They guard this secret fiercely, my friend, so do not take offense that they did not tell you."

"Of course not," Legolas stared at the boy in question – his legs were being pulled from underneath him by two tiny hobbits. "They are very fond of him, and it is only right that they should protect him so. He doesn't know?"

"No, and it is neither of our places to tell him so." Gandalf's voice was firm.

Legolas shook his head and looked back to the wizard. "No, it is not. Does this have anything to do with the answers you are searching for?"

Gandalf sighed heavily, and it looked as though the weight of the world was crushing down his shoulders. "To an extent. I am worried about Master Baggins."

"Bilbo, Kíli or Frodo?"

"The eldest. You remember the injuries he sustained on the battlefield, and before that his escape from Mirkwood?"

"Yes, I remember." As if his father would ever let him forget.

"Well, his escape and lack of discovery were both due to a ring. A ring that makes the wearer invisible."

"I see…" Legolas mused. "Magical rings rarely bring good, Gandalf."

"Yes, I know that!"

"Is that why you are worried?"

"Yes… and no. I fear that this particular ring is more dangerous than you or I could fathom."

A cold hand clenched around Legolas' heart as he realised the implications of those words and once again he returned to Sindarin. "You believe it is the Ring of Power?"

"There is no proof either way, of yet. I am still searching for the answers."

"We cannot let it remain here, among the dwarves! Gandalf-"

"It is not in the clasp of a dwarf, Legolas," the wizard's tone was sharp. "It is in the hands of a hobbit. It has not seemed to greatly affect him yet, and I could be completely and utterly wrong. If I am right, which I fear I may be, it is safe enough here for now."

"Yet the gold sickness befell Thorin Oakenshield, and the same blood runs through his heirs' veins. Say something happens to Bilbo. The ring would pass to Kíli – what then?"

"These dwarves are my friends, Legolas, and yours too, I was led to believe," the wizard's look to Legolas was disapproving to the extreme – he had not felt such a gaze in years and it made him feel like an elfling again.

"Some are," he said. "But that does not change the fact that weakness runs in their veins, no less than it changes their height!"

"Be that as it may, it is safer here than anywhere else this side of the Misty Mountains. Would you send it to your people? What damage could it do in the hands of an elf? What damage could it do in my hands?"

Legolas slowly nodded. "More than it would in the hands of a hobbit."

"Exactly. So, what we do is we wait and – by my beard, where did they go?"

Legolas looked up, and to his horror the bundle of wrestling boys had vanished. "They were there just a moment ago!"

"Estel!" Gandalf barked. "Boromir?"

"They ran away earlier – not Estel and Gimli, they were with me – but that is why we were in here in the first place! They would no better than to run again, wouldn't the-"

A terrible shriek sounded from the other room.

"DRAGON!"

The blood in Legolas' veins turned to ice, and his eyes locked with Gandalf's for a fraction of a heartbeat before they both charged into the main hall.

Wings of scarlet fire swept over the room and the folk below screamed, diving every way to try and escape the roaring beast. The panic was so palpable that people were choking on it, and such terror had not entered Legolas' heart in what felt like an age. It was different from the fear of battle, for here he knew that he was outmatched.

Legolas could see Thorin Oakenshield roaring in anger and masked terror, and the dwarf king's axe was flying through the air before the elf could blink.

It sailed up and through the dragon's head. All the way through.

"It's a firework!" Legolas realised, but the rest of the people clearly had were running and hiding where they could.

Nelly Took was running towards the thing – waving a knife towards the sparkling threat with the determined, exhilarated eyes of a hunter. At least she was until Nori darted forward, flung her over his shoulder and spun out of sight.

A nearby cry of pain turned Legolas' head and he saw Kíli crumpled on the floor between his brother and friends. An axe was by his side, Thorin's axe. The king's attempt at protecting his people had apparently only succeeded in striking down his own nephew.

All of a sudden the dragon exploded with a serious of bangs and pops and whizzes, and a startled hush fell above the hall. The only noise to break it was the crying of an infant somewhere, and Fíli's quiet urges to his brother.

"Kíli, Kíli are you alright?"

Taking a deep breath, Gandalf strode forward and climbed onto a nearby statue, banging his staff on the floor to drag the people's attention before calling out in a loud voice.

"My apologies for that frightening display, my good ladies and gentleman. It seems that one of this evening's fireworks malfunctioned and set off earlier than intended. I do hope no one was hurt."

"Gandalf!" Thorin's anger carried his voice across the hall, though to his credit he did not yell. "You thought it wise to bring a dragon firework?"

"Yes, well, the other half of it was a series of figures that smote the dragon, but unfortunately this one has gone off prematurely. I shall investigate immediately – but for those interested the rest of the display should still take place after dark – outside the mountain, that is. Now, please, carry on with your festivities and do not be alarmed. There are no dragons in our midst today. Only dragon slayers."

Mumblings grew louder in moments, and Legolas was frankly impressed at how quickly people seemed to return to normal.

Legolas followed Gandalf as Thorin, Dís and Bilbo strode over.

"Calm down, brother dear," Dís' eyes shone. "That was brilliant!"

"I'm glad you think so, my lady," said Gandalf.

"Brilliant? If you mean traumatising a people that only just got their home back from a dragon then yes, it was brilliant!"

She chuckled. "You clearly didn't see Ioán's face."

Apparently despite himself, Thorin paused. "Was it worth it?"

"Very much so," she snorted.

"Oh my word!" Bilbo gaped. "Kíli!"

The young dwarf was hobbling over with his arm around his brother, and he handed Thorin back his axe.

"Here you go, uncle," he wheezed, pressing his now free palm against his bright red forehead. "Good aim."

Thorin's jaw dropped open. "By Mahal – Kíli are you alright?"

The prince tried to remain composed, but it did not work for long. Soon he was snickering, and then full blown laughing in his uncle's distressed face. "I'm fine, I'm fine! That was just… that was wonderfully funny, Thorin, you have to, you have to admit…"

"I'm glad everyone else finds this amusing, this will be a political nightmare-"

"Yes, until you unmask the culprits."

Thorin frowned heavily. "Culprits?"

"They're standing right behind you."

The king turned and Legolas' eyes widened at the sight it revealed.

Estel, Boromir, Gimli, Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin were standing in a dishevelled little row, looking guiltier than the elf thought possible. The littler ones were quivering, and the hobbits in particular looked ready to bolt.

Legolas did not blame them. They were each covered head to toe in soot.

"This premature performance was not on my part. You can blame your little fellowship of thieving troublemakers." The wizard blew another smoke ring from his pipe for good measure.

Bilbo groaned. "I might've known…"

Dís put her hands on her hips, and the guilty party cowered even more. "So… What happened, exactly?"

Estel cleared his throat. "Well…"

Merry looked up in distress. "It wasn't them! It wasn't Estel or Gimli, they were trying to stop us without getting us in trouble!"

"Accessories during and after the fact, it seems," Dís nodded. "Go on."

"We did it," Pippin whispered, sucking on his thumb. "We pickeded up the big shiny firework and, and…"

"Meriadoc Brandybuck, Peregrin Took, you know better than that!" Bilbo scolded. "And Frodo, Sam, I am so disappointed."

"But it wasn't their idea!" protested Boromir. "It was mine, I didn't think they could do it without Gandalf noticing and then…"

"We might've, um… Accidentally brushed against one of the torches," Estel cringed.

"So Sam grabbed it and pointed it out so that it would go over everyone's heads instead of hurting anyone!" Frodo blinked innocently.

"And then it went ka-boom." Pippin finished sadly. "Are we gonna have our dessert taken away again?"

"Don't give them any ideas!" Merry hissed back.

"Oh no," Gandalf shook his head. "I think a much bigger punishment is in order." He looked at Thorin. "A public apology is due on their account. And I think that when the festival is over, they can wash the dishes."

Seven shocked eyes bulged out of their sooty sockets.

"All of them?" Boromir cried.

Frodo looked terrified. "But that's… that's more than... fifty!"

"Yes, well you should've thought before you did such a foolish thing. I've half a mind to send the four of you to bed right now, and recommending the same treatment for you!" Bilbo glared at Estel, Gimli and Boromir, who all began looking intently at his shoes.

"If it's any consolation," said Kíli. "I think it was a brilliant idea."

"A brilliant idea! Did Thorin's axe knock all sense out of your head?"

"Nope," Kíli laughed. "But it didn't take my sense of humour either!"

"Well, you might have some more help with those dishes, boys," Bilbo warned. "But Thorin… it's your festival, you should decide."

The King did a double take, and then cleared his throat. "Gandalf's punishments seem just. You will all assemble when the clock strikes nine to deliver an official apology. But for now, go and enjoy the festival."

"Really?" Frodo looked up at the king in amazement.

Thorin nodded, signalling towards someone nearby. "I would recommend getting out of here before your uncle changes his mind. But I would also recommend staying out of trouble for the rest of the day, and staying within an arm's reach of Dori and Ori at all times."

Nori strode over with Nelly sitting on his shoulders. "Wow…"

"You're filthy!" Nelly shrieked in delight. "Oh, Pippin, Mama is going to starve you forever and ever! What did you do?"

Nori snorted. "I'm not even going to ask until we're out of earshot of a responsible adult. Right, come on you little cretins; let's get you back to Ori and Dori."

"Boromir, wait for me!" a little voice cried as Faramir dragged his mother back through the crowd.

When he saw his mother, the little lordling smiled sheepishly. "I'll explain later?"

The Lady looked at the wizard in dismay. "Gandalf… Do I want to know?"

"Most probably not, Lady Finduilas, but you'll find out soon enough. Your son was one of the miscreants that decided stealing fireworks was a wise thing to do. If it is alright with you, he will be accompanying his fellows with their guardians for the rest of the day, as well as with cleaning up when the festivities end."

She glared at her son. "Of course, that's fine. You can keep him for as long as it takes to pay his dues."

"Mother-"

"I am going back to your father now," she interrupted. "And I would take Faramir with me, but unfortunately that would hurt him as much as it would you so hear this, Boromir – if there is a single speck of dirt on your brother's clothes, you will be washing all the dishes in Minas Tirith until your twentieth birthday! Do you understand me?"

He nodded meekly. "Yes, mother."

"Good," she sighed, turning to Thorin. "On behalf of my son I am profusely sorry, your majesty."

The king inclined his head. "I do not believe much harm was done."

Finduilas shook her head. "Nevertheless, I am sorry."

With that, the lady left, and Faramir giggled.

"Bo'mir, you are in soooo much trouble!"

I hope you enjoyed that! I have actually started the next chapter and will endeavour to get it up as soon as possible, but I'm sorry to say I may have to keep you waiting :(

Thank you for reading, please do leave a review if you like, and I hope you have a wonderful day/night.