The Mayor and the Thain both looked utterly surprised at the Master's suggestion.

"Celeborn?! But he's so.."

"Tall?" The Master's eyes glinted with mischief as he tried to cut off the Mayor's objection to his plan.

"Elfish?" chipped in the Thain.

"Elvish, Pippin. Will you ever stop murdering the Westron tongue?"

"Never mind that," said Peregrin Took with a chuckle at how easily his friend could be riled. "You really want to invite Celeborn to the Free Fair?"

Meriadoc Brandybuck sighed. Pippin and Sam were plainly going to make this difficult just to tease him. But at least that meant they probably had no serious objections. "I think it's time the Shire returned the hospitality of Lorien and Rivendell. We really should invite Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir too," he said.

Sam and Pippin couldn't very well say nay to that. Merry saw that he had the advantage and pushed ahead. "They wouldn't be the first elves to join a Hobbit celebration. Legolas attended Pip's coming of age," he reminded them. But his friends were still concerned.

"Are you sure he would enjoy it?" asked Sam frowning at the thought of the severe elf-lord at a hobbit party.

Before Merry could answer, Estella Brandybuck popped her head around the door, carefully balancing a tea-tray out-of-sight of the trio. "Good afternoon. How go the preparations?"

The three gentlehobbits gave her a variety of hassled looks, accompanied by head-shaking and some huffing and puffing.

"Then you'll be needing some refreshment," she said, revealing the tray piled high with slices of spiced fruit cake.

"Hooray for Estella," shouted Pippin, taking the tray from her hands and setting it on the table.

Merry saw his chance to get some support for his plan. "Estella," he said. "We're just discussing whether to invite Celeborn. What do you think?"

"Oh, yes," she said. "Poor thing. He sounds so lonely. A good party would do him a world of good."

Thus it was settled that invitations to the Fair should be sent to Rivendell. Preparations for the event continued apace. Organising the annual party was one of the main duties of the Mayor, but since Merry and Pippin had inherited their positions the three King's Officers of the Shire had shared the responsibility. The parties they had thrown had been some of the greatest the Shire had ever known.

"Have pity!" cried Elrohir as Elladan began the fifteenth verse of the travelling song.

The elf broke off singing with a musical laugh. "Too many tra-la-lallys, brother?" he asked.

"I fear one tra-la-lally is ever one too many, Elladan," said Glorfindel, joining the laughter. "At least have mercy on the ears of your poor horse. Still it certainly is a day for singing. Lord Celeborn, perhaps you could give us something a bit more tuneful."

And truly it was a day for singing. Celeborn obliged with a gentle lyrical song in praise of the beauties of summer, the music itself filled with delicious warmth. The four rode side-by-side through glorious sunlight, dappled only by wisps of cloud. They were close to the Shire now and expected that very soon they would arrive at the famous bridge over the Baranduin. Beyond that point, the king had proclaimed, no man could pass, but the invisible boundary to protect hobbit lands did not apply to elvenkind.

The landscape was softer here than the environs of Imladris with rolling hills and slow rivers rather than babbling mountain streams. The soft drone of insects filled the summer air.

Each rider was lost in his own thoughts as they approached the bridge and crossed into a land that they only knew through the descriptions given by Mithrandir and the hobbits of the fellowship - much as the hobbit-folk had once only known of the elven kingdoms through the tales of rare travellers such as Bilbo Baggins. The Shire side of the river was wooded, but looked well tended. Indeed, flowers had been planted to either side of the road, so that anyone arriving over the bridge was greeted by a burst of colour.

The very instant they had crossed the bridge, an excited squeal burst from the undergrowth and suddenly the four riders were struggling to prevent their horses from trampling a pack of giggling hobbit children underfoot. Glorfindel laughed as he heard a tiny girl gasp breathlessly "They're so beautiful."

Celeborn murmured a few calming words to his mount before he addressed the youngsters. "Good afternoon hobbit folk. Could you tell us if we are on the right road for Brandy Hall?"

"Y-yes sir," replied a small boy, his eyes hidden from the riders by a mop of brown curls.

"Thank you," said the elf-lord and instructed his horse to walk on. The children looked disappointed and Glorfindel couldn't bear to leave them looking so miserable after their first encounter with elves.

"Are you coming to the Free Fair?" he asked them.

A dozen curly heads nodded in reply.

He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Then we shall see you there, for we have been invited by our old friends the Mayor, the Master and the Thain," he said. The little hobbits looked awed - and Glorfindel was highly amused that, however amazed the children were by seeing elves, the idea that they were the friends of the three most important personages in the Shire was even more impressive.

"Please, lord elf, can you do magic? Like Gandalf?" One of the slightly larger boys piped up. His question caused a flurry of excitement among the children. Glorfindel recalled Mithrandir speaking of how much the Shire- folk loved his fireworks. The memory of the extraordinary wizard clouded his thought for a moment, but Elrohir, bending down to address the hobbits, distracted him.

"Not magic like Gandalf, but we can do this!" said Elrohir, standing up on his horse's back. Barely bending his knees to push off, he leapt upward, grabbing an overhanging tree branch with both hands. With an athletic swing he flipped himself over the branch, then repeated the trick one-handed. The hobbit children cheered.

Elrohir's dismount was even more spectacular, twisting and somersaulting through the air before landing on the ground and making a deep flourishing bow to his astounded audience.

"Thank you. And now we must go, for Master Meriadoc will be waiting," he said as he pulled himself back onto his horse.

As the group set off again, waved on their way by the hobbit children, Elrohir cantered into the lead. Celeborn followed him and Glorfindel winced. The tension between grandfather and grandson had been palpable during the past few days journeying, although Glorfindel couldn't quite put his finger on a particular cause and feared that to speak to either would only make matters worse.

Elven whispers were no match for elven hearing, so even keeping a polite distance Glorfindel could hear Celeborn's hissed criticism.

"Elrohir, we are guests of honour here, not a troop of travelling performers."

"They were children and it made them laugh," bit back the younger elf. "We hear precious little of children's laughter in Imladris."

"You and your brother more than make up for it."

"Indeed at nearly 3,000 years old we are apparently too young to take care of an almost uninhabited valley without our grandfather's help."

Glorfindel urged his horse forward to interrupt and saw that Elladan had done the same. The pair exchanged a glance of annoyance that the pleasant ride had been spoiled. For a moment the shared look put Glorfindel in mind of Elladan's father and how easily he and Elrond had been able to read each other's thoughts after centuries of working together.

Elrond's sons had been good companions to him this last score of years, but, he mused, truly great friendships were rare and precious. Once again, however, his descent into melancholy was interrupted. As the riders rounded a bend in the road Elladan pointed out a thin thread of chimney smoke rising above the trees.

A few moments later they saw Brandy Hall.

Earthenware chimneypots sprouted from a neat hillside. Dozens of white- framed windows peered out onto a well-tended rose garden and there were three round doors, just as Celeborn had imagined them.

His dour mood wavered at the sight of the 'Hall', so unlike any elven dwelling - even in Thranduil's peculiar kingdom. It had its own cheerful beauty though. No-one could doubt that behind those doors lived jolly, welcoming folk.

There was a flurry of activity near the middle door, which stood open. A small figure rose from the step and fled inside.

Celeborn raised a tense smile, preparing himself to be a polite guest in spite of his annoyance. Elrohir's words had stung. Maybe it was natural for the twins to resent him - even for immortals there were rules of inheritance and that meant passing things on to younger generations, not back to older ones.

Still, if he was no longer welcome in Imladris, he could hardly go back to the empty woods of Lorien. He would have to go forward, go to --

But there was not time to dwell on such matters, for here was Meriadoc Brandybuck, rushing from the door to greet the riders.

"A star shines on the hour of our meeting. Or more accurately the sun," called out the hobbit as he ran towards them. "And what a fine day for riding! I trust you have had a safe journey. Here, let Rob take your horses - we've set up a separate paddock for them as we were worried their extraordinary size might scare the ponies."

And suddenly Celeborn didn't need to force a smile. He felt the tension melt from his features. How did Merry always do this? This hobbit he had befriended in the library of Imladris whose kindness and curiosity had brought him more comfort and cheer than the counsels of dozens of elves who were renowned as wise among their kind had ever done.

"But what of your guests? How are you to cope with our 'extraordinary size'?" countered a laughing Elladan, as the riders dismounted and an evidently awed Rob led the docile horses away to be fed and watered.

"Well, you'll all have to stoop a little in the hallway I'm afraid, but I think you'll be able to stand up in the main parlour. You might find the chairs a bit of a squeeze though." Merry led the way through the middle door, calling out, "Estella! Where are you? They're here!"

Estella, it turned out, was dashing into the parlour in a cloud of flour. She rubbed her hands on her apron, but that only made them whiter. She dropped a quick curtsey to the elf-lords. "Oh my, you must excuse my untidiness. There's such a lot to be done before the fair."

Celeborn bowed deeply. "Mrs Brandybuck, it is an honour and a pleasure to meet you at last," he said. The effect was only slightly spoiled by the fact that he bumped his head on a ceiling beam as he stood back up.

Once the others had introduced themselves, Estella curtsied again. "Well, I'm certain you're all hungry after your journey and I think we might be able to spare a few cakes for weary travellers." With a broad wink at her husband Estella span out of the room leaving a whirlwind of flour behind her.

Merry laughed. "She's a marvel," he said. "But do sit down. We've gathered all the biggest chairs in Buckland into this room."

Even the biggest chairs in Buckland were rather uncomfortable. Glorfindel seemed to find the best one - a high backed wooden 'throne' with a cushioned seat but no arms. Celeborn found that he could just about sit on a low couch, but his knees were almost in line with his nose.

He found himself looking back on how comical the elves had found the small hobbits, struggling dwarf-like to clamber onto elven chairs and to reach tables. Now it was the elves making a ridiculous over-sized spectacle of themselves.

The afternoon passed pleasurably into evening. Merry was a good story- teller and entertained his guests with the small-doings of the Shire for several hours - reducing them to undignified howls of laughter at least twice. They discussed the plans for the Fair and Merry explained that this was not an election year, but as all the farms were prospering it would be one of the most splendid Fairs in history.

Shortly before dinnertime two hobbit children burst into the room, filthy- dirty, their eyes like saucers when they saw their father's guests. "Theo, Kali, go and wash before you meet our guests," said Merry and the pair vanished, only to be replaced a few moments later by red-faced and damp (but considerably cleaner) hobbit children.

The youngsters introduced themselves politely, stammering a little at first as they explained that they had been helping make lanterns for the Fair - although as their father pointed out, that didn't really explain the dirt.

An hour later all fears on the children's side (and apparently all sense of elven propriety on the guests' side) had been laid to rest, as Glorfindel allowed Kali to plait his hair while the others made a convincing show of being astonished by Theo's sleight of hand tricks.

But however much excitement visiting elves might mean, there was a long journey to Hobbiton tomorrow and another the day after to the Fair. The children were shooed off to bed and after a brief glass of brandy the adults decided to follow their example.

Merry had set out the front sitting room for the elves to rest in, with the furniture pushed back to the walls and piles of rugs and cushions and blankets. "I do hope that's comfortable. I know you don't sleep in the same way that hobbit-folk and men do."

"It's perfect, Merry," said Elrohir sinking into a pile of feathery pillows.

Early next morning Kali tiptoed into the front sitting room, staring at the four guests in undisguised awe.

Each elf appeared to have found an entirely different way of resting amid the cushions and blankets. Celeborn was stretched out flat on his back on the floor, without even a pillow supporting his head. Glorfindel sat cross- legged, leaning slightly backwards against a stack of cushions he had piled against the wall. One of the twins - she certainly couldn't tell them apart in sleep - was curled up on a pile of rugs. The other seemed to have built an untidy nest out of everything else, and was almost entirely buried in it.

She stood in front of Glorfindel, cocking her head in puzzlement that anyone could sleep open-eyed and sitting up. Suddenly one eye dropped in a wink. Kali jumped and realised just too late that she had been watched ever since she stepped into the room. A flying cushion hit her, as a twin (she was almost certain it was Elladan) erupted from the tangled nest roaring loudly.

The pillow fight that ensued between the trio was noisy and energetic. Celeborn and the twin who was probably Elrohir rolled out of the way and lounged in a corner of the room watching the game.

"Goodness gracious what's all this?" Estella Brandybuck stood in the doorway, with her hands on her hips and shaking her head as though she had never seen such childish behaviour from adults of any race - though of course she had, for her husband and Peregrin Took rarely missed a chance to behave like tweenagers the moment they weren't under the watchful eyes of the busybodies of the Shire.

For a moment Glorfindel and Elladan (for it was he) looked positively shamefaced and Kali pouted at her mother for spoiling the fun. Then Estella stooped, grabbed a cushion and flung it at Glorfindel's head. The game began again in earnest and after a few moments of being pelted with pillows, Celeborn and Elrohir were persuaded to join in.

By the time Merry and Theo arrived, having been out early to check on the horses and ponies, four innocent looking elves and two breathless hobbits were examining the mess caused by an exploded cushion. The twins were plucking feathers from each other's hair.

Merry raised an eyebrow at his wife, but said nothing.

----

An hour later everyone was dressed for travelling, wagons were loaded and Kali was yawning and complaining at being up so early. Merry suspected that the real problem was that she hadn't slept a wink for excitement.

It was another beautiful day and the hobbits donned straw hats as protection from the blazing sunshine. The Brandybucks were not the only hobbits setting out from Buckland - though many had departed the previous day, planning winding routes to pick up relatives on the way to the Fair.

Ponies, carts and wagons - some laden with barrels of ale or fruit, others with laughing children, were all heading west from Buckland. Of Brandy Hall's workers, only Rob the stablehand remained, to ensure all the mounts were ready for the morning ride. He would ride with the family as far as Hobbiton, where he would join Farmer Rowton's family for the next leg of the journey.

Merry took his place in the driver's seat of the Brandybuck wagon and the other hobbits scrambled aboard. The elves brought their horses alongside - and then they were off.

It was only a few seconds later that Theo proposed a travelling song.

"I've got one," said Elladan.

"No!" The other three elves said vehemently in unison.

But it was too late. Elladan had already taken a deep breath and began signing:

"O! Where are we riding

With hobbit folk singing."

Glorfindel clapped his hands over his ears, groaning melodramatically. Elrohir sighed and Celeborn shook his head wearily. The hobbits giggled. Rob nearly rolled out of the cart in shock that these tall, impressive looking folk could be so ridiculous.

"Our horses are striding

To the party us bringing."

Even Theo grimaced at the contorted grammar of that line.

"O! Tra-la-la-lally

The elves from the valley

Ha ha!" Elladan finished.

"But that's the song Bilbo wrote out in his book," said Merry. "Well, very like it. I always thought he'd made it up because it sounded nothing at all like the music we heard in Rivendell."

"See brother, you have ruined the elves reputation for song-crafting even in the Shire," laughed Elrohir.

"It is a fine song and it kept Estel entertained for hours," said Elladan, pouting his perfect elven lips. "Anyway, you try finding a rhyme for Baggins."

"I'm sure I could do better than 'beards a-wagging'."

The one-hundredth repetition of an ancient argument was cut off by Kali calling for "another verse".

Elladan would undoubtedly been happy to oblige but was cut off by Elrohir who made a sudden flying leap from horse to horse in order to clamp his brother's mouth shut.

"Mfl," protested Elladan.

The sun blazed down on the little party of travellers as they rode between Whitfurrows and Frogmorton. All the hobbits, except Merry who was driving, had nodded off after lunch.

Elladan caught himself humming the tra-la-lally tune and smirked. Privately he admitted that it wasn't one of the greatest songs ever written, but the catchiness of the tune couldn't be denied. Theo and Kali had enjoyed making up verses, even if the tiny girl hadn't quite grasped the concept of rhyming words yet. However, poor rhymes were really the very heart of the song.

He sighed. Now that the children were asleep his thoughts veered uncontrollably back to the nagging subject of His Future. Or more accurately Their Future. They had postponed their decision, had found reasons to delay, and had justified their hesitation to themselves and to others. But for the past several years they had simply avoided talking about it.

Occasionally one would catch the other looking pensive, maybe gazing westwards, and would quickly find an urgent mission or task for them both. But time was passing and though it left no mark on their eternally youthful faces, Elladan knew they could both see the changes the passing seasons etched in the land and in their mortal friends.

The arrival of Celeborn from Lorien had further complicated matters. Elladan was uncertain why his grandfather had not sailed with Galadriel, but he sensed that beneath the hauteur was a bewilderment to rival his own. Despite this, there seemed to remain an unbridgeable chasm between them - and even after some years of living under the same roof, Elladan often felt he was a host on his best behaviour, trying to impress an elf-lord of much greater stature. Walking on eggshells was, frankly, easier.

Then there was Glorfindel. He had no idea what to make of Glorfindel remaining, though he had often been glad of the company of the old family friend. After the ringbearers departed, Glorfindel had been brittle and tetchy for months. Whenever Elladan tried to tackle the subject of The Future, he would snap something about 'unfinished business' before returning to the obviously vital unfinished business of polishing and rearranging the swords of Imladris - which now outnumbered elves three to one.

When the invitations had arrived from the Shire they had been in the process of shutting up a collection of rarely used rooms. A few treasured items had been boxed and carried into the main halls. There was no need to lock the rooms up, but the decision had been taken not to keep them clean and usable. There was more than enough room for guests elsewhere.

These days it felt like they were camping, rather than living, in the house. There were no youngsters and few women. Those skilled in crafts had taken journeys to Ithilien and Eryn Lasgalen - where new things were still needed. A mere handful of warriors remained, spending more and more time twiddling their thumbs as the danger from orc, warg and even wolf died away.

In fact Elladan's biggest worry of late was that the deer were becoming too numerous as their predators, including the elves, abandoned old hunting grounds.

But if they sailed, what then? It had been easy enough for those who sailed five, ten years ago. They were leaving Imladris in some kind of working order. If they left now it would be abandoned. Didn't the world still need some kind of refuge? What if, somehow, the shadow rose again? How could they abandon that place of precious beauty and peace?

It had been Homely to others, but to them it was home. How could they leave it to be just another dwindling ruin?

"Elladan!"

He suddenly realised that Glorfindel was riding level with him, shaking him by the elbow. Had the others been calling his name for some time?

"Is he alright? Too much sun?" Merry was asking.

"No, I'm fine," he said, then caught his brother's doubtful look. "Really, I was just distracted, thinking."

Everyone was frowning at him, even the children, who had been woken by the shouting.

He smiled - though he suspected it was a poor, wan effort. "Honestly. I was just composing a new travelling song."

Thankfully everyone seemed to accept this, though Elladan noticed that Glorfindel rode closer to him and made occasional, strangely inane, comments about the beauty of the Shire for the rest of the ride.

"Pip! You're going the wrong way! The Fair is west of Tuckborough you know," shouted Merry jumping down from the driver's seat of the wagon and dashing to embrace the hobbit who had just run up the road towards them.

"Really? Oh dear, we must have taken a wrong turn," said Pippin Took, with a grin.

Glorfindel's eyes stretched as he took in the fact that this finely dressed and confident hobbit was the same Pippin Took he had first met, exhausted and dishevelled, on the edge of the Trollshaws Forest. The same Pippin Took he had caught sliding down a banister in Imladris and who had told Elrond he would have to be sent home in a sack before he would abandon his cousin to the dangerous road before him. The same Pippin Took who had returned in the uniform of Gondor, looking like a boy dressed as a soldier, but with a hint of something far older in his eyes.

Perhaps they had not noted the changes in Merry so much, since he had first started to visit Imladris several years ago. But, Glorfindel recalled, Merry had been a fully-grown adult when the Fellowship set out whereas Pippin had been yet to celebrate his coming of age. Now he was Thain of the Shire.

And as such he was offering elegant words of greeting to the elves - the first group from Rivendell (to anyone's knowledge) ever to have properly visited hobbits in their own land.

Once everyone was formally greeted and reintroduced, Pippin grinned again. "Well, I think that was enough delaying. Rosie was in a panic that nothing was ready, so I volunteered to find you and hold you up."

"But what are you doing here in Hobbiton, Pip? Are Diamond and Farry here too?" asked Merry.

"Oh, you know how it is at the Fair - we'll hardly get a chance to chat - so we thought we'd join the pre-Fair picnic."

Glorfindel watched with amusement, and perhaps a touch of jealousy, as Pippin clambered into the wagon and was hugged by the two laughing hobbit children, who immediately began to quiz him about the meal that was awaiting them at Bag End.

A few more bends in the road and they would be there - at the door where so many journeys had begun.

***

"They're here, they're here!" squealed Daisy jumping away from the window and crashing into Elanor, who deftly saved a dish full of boiled eggs from ending up all over the floor. Daisy and Primrose fled the kitchen despite their mother's pleas that they at least take some of the dishes outside with them.

For a moment Elanor felt torn between her desire to see the visitors and her obvious duty to stay in the kitchen until everything was ready. Biting down her impatience, she exchanged a frazzled smile with her mother and began to chop radishes for the salad. But her brother Merry, who suddenly popped his head in through the same window Daisy had been watching from, stretched her resolve.

"Come and look El," he said. "They're quite amazing. Not like other big folk at all."

"I have seen Lords Elladan and Elrohir before, for they came to visit the King while we were in Gondor," she returned, which earned her a pulled- tongue from Merry who had always been playfully envious of Elanor's journey to the south. "Here, take this and place it with the others," she added, passing a platter of bread rolls through the window.

As Merry vanished, she sighed.

"Go on Elanor, grab a couple of dishes and go and introduce yourself," said Rosie, grabbing one of the girl's apron string so that the bow unravelled as she dashed from the room.

"Thanks mum," called back Elanor, laughing.

***

The elves were beautiful, really quite dazzlingly handsome, thought Elanor as she gazed at the four in rapt admiration. They were noble of face and they moved with a lithe, elegant grace. They seemed to shine with an inner radiance. And their eyes! They twinkled with a friendly brightness, but at the same time were filled with depths of memory you could drown in.

Yes, she had seen two of them before, but really only at a distance, whatever she might let Merry believe. It was difficult to think that the silver-haired Celeborn was grandfather to the twins - they all looked the same age - or rather, looked ageless.

"El, it's rude to stare you know," said Pippin Gamgee, grabbing an apple flan as he ducked past her, pursued by another tiny hobbit.

The picnic was a great success, Rosie's convenient summer solution to dealing with guests nearly twice the height of Bag End's tallest residents. Of course, Elladan and Elrohir had asked to be given the grand tour of the smial anyway - having heard so much about the place from Bilbo during his years in Rivendell. So before they sat down to dinner, Sam had led them around the place, and Elanor had tagged along.

Even the coat-hooks merited attention. "So this is where all those dwarves tried to hang their hoods?" asked Elrohir. Elanor had blinked in surprise - she had never thought of the coat-rack in her hallway as having special significance. That it should have been heard of by elves!

Like most Gamgee family picnics this one was a boisterous affair. Theo and Kali Brandybuck had immediately been swept into the games. Faramir Took was engaged in an earnest discussion with young Merry, Goldie and Hamfast - probably planning some scheme for the Fair. Young Pippin and Bilbo were play fighting with Uncle Merry.

Frodo Gamgee had somehow managed to join the rest of the adults who were sitting on rugs a slight distance away chatting with the elves. Elanor wondered whether she too could find an excuse to join them, though she feared she would be tongue-tied or say something stupid in front of the guests.

Suddenly there was a loud scream followed by a tearful howl. Elanor was on her feet in an instant, running over to where the youngsters were standing around a wailing Primrose. "What happened?"

"She slipped," said Theo. "Sort of sat down really hard. And I think she sat on a stone."

Elanor guided the sobbing child back to where she had been sitting and tried to pacify her with a left-over strawberry.

She was suddenly aware of a tall presence beside her. Looking up she saw one of the twin sons of Elrond frowning at the howling child on her lap. "Is the child hurt?" he asked.

Her heart raced. The elf was talking to her. Even meeting the king hadn't made her feel so fluttery.

"She just got a fright is all," she replied, trying her hardest to sound as sensible and hobbit-like as her mother always did when talking to big folk of any kind.

"Hello little one," said the elf. "My name is Elrohir. What's yours?"

"P-Primrose." She buried her face shyly against Elanor's shoulder. "I'm fine now El," she whispered. "Can I go back to the game?" Elanor let her go and the little girl ran back to the huddle of youngsters, sniffling back her remaining tears.

"Little sisters eh?" said Elrohir. "Mine was just as bad. Always falling out of some tree or another."

"Really?"

"Oh yes. And Elladan encouraged her too. Dared her to do the silliest things," he said.

"Like what?"

"Oh, diving into the deep waterfall pool, hanging upside down from a rafter, trying to dye Glorfindel's hair pink."

Elanor spluttered laughter. "No!"

"Well, she never managed it, but once the dare was set, Arwen spent months mixing dyes and trying to work out how she could trick him. She even tried to get father to mix up a sleeping draught."

Elanor gasped. She had only just realised that the little elf-sister they were talking about was the queen to whom she was maid of honour.

"And now she's about to have little ones of her own," said Elrohir.

"Yes, we heard," said Elanor. "In the last letter father had from King Elessar."

"Elanor!" It was her father calling. Elrohir offered her a hand to get to her feet and they walked together over to the group of grown-up hobbits and elves.

"Is Primrose all right?" asked her mother. Rosie immediately accepted Elanor's reassurance and the hobbit-lass felt a glow of pride that she was now trusted to make decisions about the hurts of the little ones.

"What were you two laughing about?" asked Elladan.

"Arwen's plan to dye Glorfindel's hair pink. Remember that?" said Elrohir.

Glorfindel groaned. "I hardly think it was Arwen's plan. I seem to remember her brothers had something to do with it. For months I had to check every ewer of water before I washed."

"But our beautiful queen will soon have to deal with such pranks from her own child, so we hear," said Sam.

"Indeed, we are to be uncles, and our grandfather here will be great- grandfather to the newest member of the House of Telcontar," said Elrohir. The three elves looked pleased and proud at the up-coming addition to their family.

But, Elanor noticed, a far more peculiar and strained look darted across the face of Glorfindel.

As the sun was just touching the horizon, Rosie and Estella began trying to round up the younger children to take them inside to their beds. Celeborn watched the remaining youngsters playing an energetic game of tag and mused that Elrohir was perhaps right. He had not realised until now how long it had been since he heard the carefree laughter of youth.

One youngster sat a little aside from the game, watching the rough and tumble, smiling and occasionally cheering on one lad or another. Now and again the older lads would call back to him, involving him in the hilarity even though he wasn't taking part in the game.

Observing the lad earlier, Celeborn had noticed that he walked a little awkwardly, with a kind of twisted limp. He knew, from what Merry had told him, that the Thain's son had suffered a badly broken leg in a riding accident some years ago. That, together with the fact that the boy was wearing a waistcoat cut from the same deep blue cloth as Pippin's, assured him he was looking at Faramir Took.

He excused himself from the group of adult hobbits and elves, glad to escape from the pipeweed smoke. After a brief detour to his baggage he made his way to where Faramir was sitting.

"Excuse me," he said in the common speech.

The boy looked up in surprise, but replied in perfect Sindarin. "Greetings Lord Celeborn, I hope you enjoyed the feast."

Celeborn raised a silver eyebrow. Faramir's accent was almost flawless. How could he have managed that, learning from Meriadoc, who spoke the flattest elvish he had ever heard?

"Your uncle tells me you are a fine scholar," he said, hoping he was doing the right thing to reply in elvish. Obviously he was, for the boy's face lit with delight on hearing the language.

"I am sorry if I'm not very clear, I have never spoken with a real elf before," said Faramir, a little more slowly as he formed the words - this time in Quenya. He looked up, meeting Celeborn's eyes. The elf saw a fierce intelligence there, as well as a slightly panicked hope that he had got the words of the high tongue right.

"You speak beautifully," said Celeborn, seating himself on the grass beside Faramir and choosing to continue the conversation in Sindarin. "Do you enjoy reading Elvish too?"

"Oh yes, though there is little enough to read here in the Shire. Just a handful of books at Bag End really."

"Then I should imagine these will be a welcome addition," said Celeborn, holding out two small volumes in well-worn red bindings. Faramir took them and turned them over in his hands.

"The thicker one is one of the many versions of the story of the Necklace of the Dwarves - I think you will find it an interesting tale. The other is a book of poems about nature - written by my daughter Celebrian," said Celeborn.

Faramir gasped. "I cannot take that," he said. "Surely it is of great value to you."

"Indeed, I treasure my copy. But she made several copies as gifts one year. She has a talent for poetry."

"Thank you. I will enjoy reading it. The boy's formal words were polite - but his grin showed that he was thrilled beyond measure by the gift. Suddenly his smile was replaced by puzzlement.

"Your daughter - and the lady Galadriel and Master Elrond and the other elves of Lorien - they are all now beyond the sea?"

Celeborn nodded.

"Then." The boy faltered, evidently realising he was about to stray into awkward territory with the question that was on the tip of his tongue.

"Then why am I still here?" finished Celeborn with a heavy sigh. "You tell me, Faramir. I do not know exactly why I linger. I miss them all and long to see them again, yet I do not hear the call of the sea and I do not feel the unbearable yearning to leave this land which I have loved. I made a choice to stay here long, long ago and some strange reluctance binds me here still. It is quite a conundrum."

"A what?" asked Faramir.

Ah, he had strayed beyond the limits of the boy's language skills. It took him a moment to find the most appropriate word in Westron. "A conundrum."

***

Merry Brandybuck, Pippin Took and Sam Gamgee strolled together down to the paddock, having made the excuse that they wished to check all was ready for tomorrow's journey to the Fair. There was no real need to do so, for Merry knew Rob would have ensured the ponies were prepared before he departed to join the Rowtons with a basketful of supper treats provided by Rosie.

"Well," said Sam. "There's certainly something amiss with those four."

"Indeed. I see now why you thought they needed a little Shire-style cheering, Merry," added Pippin. "I've never seen such glum elves. They're fine as long as you're chatting with them - but as soon as they get a moment to think, you can see they go all wistful-looking."

Merry patted one of the ponies on the nose thoughtfully. "Yes," he said. "I think they feel trapped somehow between two worlds. The elves' time here is supposed to be over, but they aren't quite ready to go. I doubt it is something a day at the Fair can heal - but perhaps we can give them a day off from such sad thoughts."

The others nodded firmly and, despite the absence of their tankards, they raised a toast to distracting elves.

If they were to reach the Fair without missing any of the main festivities, they had to make an early start - meaning breakfast was taken on the move. The morning light was still pale and the air a little chilled as four cartloads of hobbits left Bag End with an escort of elves. By the time Hamfast began asking for second helpings of bread and jam, the sun was once again blazing in the sky, promising a perfect day for the Fair.

The road was busy, with everyone heading in the same direction - to the Fair. There were a great many cheery greetings and the elves had soon been introduced to several dozen families from Hobbiton and Bywater (along with a quick summary of their family histories). In the end, Elrohir felt positively dizzy trying to remember any names at all, let alone who was Rosie's brother-in-law or Sam's third cousin.

As the path from Tuckborough joined the East Road, Elrohir noticed that the passing hobbits would doff their hats to the Took family.

"Nice to see a bit of respect given to the Took and the Thain for once," commented Pippin. "Must be the company we're keeping."

The remark earned him a playful slap on the back of the head from Diamond. "Take no notice of him," she said to Elrohir. "The folks round these parts simply appreciate a job well done. He's spent weeks getting ready for the Fair, making certain those without transportation get a lift from another family, that the older hobbits can travel in comfort and finding volunteers to stay behind and to look after the livestock."

Pippin blushed. "'Nominal dignitary', that's what the Thainship's supposed to be you know," he said, chuckling. "Yet it seems there's an awful lot of work in holding an 'honorary office'."

At the back of Elrohir's mind, his father nodded his approval at the hobbit's energetic care for his people and his wry attitude to authority. It was a style of leadership of which Elrond would have approved.

Eventually, they reached the White Downs. The Fair was plainly visible from some distance away, with crowds of hobbits, tents and bright coloured flags spread out across a hillside. There was music too - or at least a cacophony of musical sounds, since the various bands and musicians were mostly still warming up or practising for the contests and performances to come later in the day.

Over to one side of the Fair, Elrohir saw, there was an area set aside for stores - with plenty of barrels and boxes of provisions.

As they neared, dozens of hobbits of all ages came running to meet them, calling out greetings. He could only pick out a handful.

"Daisy, Primrose, come and see our kite!"

"Estella! Your cakes arrived earlier, they look amazing!"

"Gosh Elanor, you've got elves!"

"Mister Gamgee! We need your help. There's a dispute over vegetables at the produce competition!"

"Theo, you should see what Matty's brought!"

Merry laughed and stood up on his driving seat, addressing the little crowd.

"Before we lose track of everyone, I suggest we agree to meet up for lunch in a little while, by that green flag over there at the top of the competition field," he said. Everyone nodded his or her assent.

He turned to the elves. "If you make your way there slowly, then by the time you get there you'll find a horde of hungry Gamgee, Brandybuck and Took children. Come Elrohir, we will find a place for your horses and our ponies."

***

"Oi, Golden Tresses!"

Glorfindel, who had been making his way along the edge of the competition field, stopped, puzzled.

"Oh, your hair shines like sunlight!"

The shouting was coming from the other side of a jaunty red and green tent in which two elderly hobbits were setting up rows of flagons containing some kind of sweet-smelling drink. It sounded like the voices of young girls. Perhaps it was some hobbit game in which the little ones were trying to involve him - but the voices seemed harsher than that, with more than a hint of mockery.

As he rounded the corner of the tent he caught sight of a flurry of girl hobbits running away. One of the Gamgee girls stood alone, her head bowed.

"What's going on?" he asked.

As she turned to face him, he saw that her fists were balled with rage and miserable tears stood in her eyes.

"They were being unkind to you?"

"Yes," she said, taking a deep breath and fiercely blinking away the tears. "And all because of my stupid name."

"I'm sorry," said Glorfindel. "You'll think me very rude, but I don't think I met you properly last night and I don't remember your name."

"I'm Goldilocks," she said, raising a hand to her shoulder and tugging handful of her hair. "Though you wouldn't think it would you?"

Glorfindel looked at the unhappy teenage hobbit in front of him. Her curly hair was a rich nut brown. He was forced to agree.

"When I was born it was golden and they thought I'd grow up to be beautiful, like Elanor. But after they named me, it turned brown and I came out plain. It's probably a good job it grew brown though, that way it doesn't show the mud."

She raised a weak smile at her own joke.

"Well, I don't know what hobbits think is beautiful, but I think you are very pretty," said Glorfindel. "And you know, Queen Arwen has dark hair."

Goldilocks' smile spread to her eyes and she blushed a little.

"By the way," said Glorfindel. "Do you know what Glorfindel means?"

"Well, it's your name, but - "

"It means golden haired," he said, smiling.

Goldilocks looked mortified. "Oh, I'm sorry." She stared at her toes.

"But why?"

"I didn't mean to say your name was stupid."

Glorfindel laughed. "I've had my name a very long time. I think I'm used to it now."

The hobbit lass grinned at him. "Well, I think I feel better about mine then, knowing I share it with such a nice elf."

He was surprised how overjoyed he was by the girl's simple, honest flattery.

"Will you show me around the fair?" he asked. She offered her hand and they set off in search of some sweet treats.

Pippin and Diamond Took were the last to arrive at the appointed luncheon spot, having been interrupted a score or more of times by hobbits wanting to enlist the Thain's help in judging this or that competition. Occasionally the pair would exchange an exasperated glance, but only when they were certain that no-one was watching who might be offended.

By the time they reached the top of the competition field, Merry had arranged for platters of food to be laid out on trestle tables and a couple of dozen hobbit children were waiting impatiently. They were greeted with a hearty cheer and as soon as they were seated, the lunch began.

A little way down the table, Pippin could overhear the animated conversation between Goldie and Faramir. "But why didn't you tell me about my name?" Goldie was asking. Farry was saying something about Elvish words for golden.

He turned back to the adult conversation only to discover that Rosie, Diamond and Sam were also watching the two youngsters. "I think we might have to have words about those two in a few years time," said Rosie.

Sam paled and almost choked on a mouthful of food, making Rosie and Diamond laugh, Pippin was momentarily puzzled by the reaction. "What do you - oh - but they're just children."

"And they grow up so fast," added Rosie, grinning. Sam, however, was still frowning.

"My lad not good enough for your Goldie, eh?" Pippin teased. He regretted it a second later though as Sam went a dark red and stared at the table.

"Of course, but." The mayor looked miserable.

"Oh Sam, she'll be your little girl for years yet," said Diamond. "And it's really not such a bad fate to be the wife of the Thain. The Took men make very good husbands."

It was Pippin's turn to blush. He decided to change the subject, after checking that the four elves were all deep in conversation with Merry and Estella. "So, after lunch I was thinking of introducing Elladan and Elrohir to some of the Shire's best ales."

"Do you think that's wise?" asked Sam. "Remember Legolas at your coming-of- age Pip?"

"Oh, that was only because he was trying to keep pace with Gimli. He should have known better."

As the laughter at the memory subsided, Pippin glanced along the table again, to where Pippin and Hamfast Gamgee and Theo Brandybuck were holding an urgent whispered discussion. 'Hmm,' he thought, 'there's mischief afoot there.'

***

46 years earlier.

Late in the afternoon on the day of a long expected double birthday party, Frodo Baggins wandered through the crowds of partying hobbits, drinking in the sights and sounds.

A gaggle of children scampered around the tables, showing off their new toys to anyone who would stop and look. Among them, Frodo recognised Hamfast Gamgee's son Sam beating out a rhythm on a small drum. He smiled at the children a little absently, his mind taken up with the confused and complicated thoughts that tended to overtake a hobbit at such a point on his coming-of-age day - which is to say the point when he's had a couple more beers than he's used to.

A small part of him was jealous of Sam and the other children and their new Dale-made toys. Another part was contemplating whether to join Balko Burrows and the other confident young bachelor hobbits who would be lounging somewhere in the party field smoking pipeweed.

And finally he was preoccupied with Bilbo's plan - though perhaps the old fellow wouldn't go through with it after all.

Frodo's wanderings eventually brought him to the entrance of a small pavilion containing Gandalf's firework supplies. Having never seen fireworks before, he was impatient for the display to begin. When he was tiny, Bilbo had told him tales of showers of golden stars and fountains of colourful flowers and butterflies that had made him gasp. Now at last he would see for himself.

An absurd curiosity grabbed him and he poked his head inside the tent, knowing full well that this was the sort of Tookish foolishness that would lead to some kind of trouble. There were dozens of boxes of coloured containers and tubes. He picked up a small green cylinder and turned it over in his hands.

There was a footstep outside and a tall shadow blocked out the light from the lanterns outside. Panicked, Frodo stuffed the tube into his pocket.

"Ah, young Frodo," said Gandalf, walking into the tent and not looking remotely surprised to see him. "Help me carry some of these outside, I'm about to begin."

It was only much later; after Bilbo's disappearing act, after night had come and gone, after even the last stragglers had stumbled home, that he realised he still had the firework in his pocket.

He sat on the doorstep of Bag End, squinting in the early morning light. He felt leaden with weariness and his childish curiosity about fireworks seemed a very long time ago indeed. At least there had been no trouble as a result of his theft.

He rose and went inside, tucking the firework onto a shelf as he walked through the parlour and into the kitchen.

As far as Sam, Merry and Pippin were concerned the afternoon went entirely to plan, as they kept up a constant round of entertainment and distraction. The elves cheered on Frodo Gamgee as he was victorious in the climb the slippery pole contest and toasted Estella's prize-winning jam tart with a good variety of Shire-brewed ales. The hobbits kept a close look out for gloomy looks on any elven countenance and were well satisfied that their mission was succeeding so far.

"Look it's those elves!"

Merry recognised some of the children running toward them as Bucklanders, but was a little surprised that they should be so forward. Everyone else was rather awed by the presence of the four lordly elves.

"Hello again," said Elrohir.

The biggest of the children, a boy apparently just into his teens, was pushed forward by the others. He looked rather apologetic as he umm-ed and ahh-ed. "Go on," hissed one of the smaller children.

"Er, hello Lord Elf," he said. "Can you show us any more tricks?"

Sam, Merry and Pippin exchanged confused glances.

Elrohir's eyes flicked towards Celeborn as he stooped to address the children. "I must ask my grandfather's permission," he told them in a loud whisper, clearly intended to carry to the elf-lord's ears.

Celeborn sighed, then rolled his eyes and smiled tolerantly. "Go ahead Elrohir, make a spectacle of yourself. It would be ungracious of us not to entertain our hosts after all the entertainment they have provided for us."

The elf looked around to ensure he had room for what he was about to attempt, then performed a series of spectacular handsprings and somersaults across the field. The little hobbits cheered.

"Oh that was nothing," boasted Elladan and proceeded to follow his brother's lead, with a few extra flourishes and a twisting back somersault thrown in just to show off. Unfortunately, Elladan had not spotted the two hobbits carrying baskets piled high with fruit directly in his path before he set off. As apples showered down around the fallen elf, Celeborn's attempt to keep a straight face failed and he laughed along with the Bucklander children.

It was only after the laughter had subsided that they noticed that Glorfindel had sneaked away amid the commotion. A few moments later he reappeared, brandishing a piece of paper. Everyone looked at him questioningly, but it was Celeborn he addressed.

"I thought we too should entertain our hosts, so I have entered us in the singing contest," he said. "What do you think we should sing?"

Celeborn looked shocked, Merry thought, but also rather pleased at the idea.

***

The Bywater ladies choir finished their third and final song to rapturous applause and curtsied to the crowd before taking their places with their families in the audience. Pippin Took was having a hard time not laughing out loud at the whispered squabble going on behind him between two elf- lords with very definite, but very different ideas as to what they should sing. He didn't dare meet Merry's eyes, he knew that if he did he would be unable to stop the giggles that were welling up in his chest.

Instead he glanced in the opposite direction, just in time to see Faramir and a couple of the Gamgee children sneaking out of the audience. He thought back to the fairs of his own childhood. Whatever they were up to, it was probably reasonably harmless.

***

They sat cross-legged in a circle, hidden inside one of the now more than half-empty storage tents. Six faces glowed orange in the flickering lamplight, reflected flames jumping mischievously in their eyes. Pippin Gamgee reached into the centre of the circle and placed a cylindrical object on the ground.

"Faramir?" prompted Merry Gamgee.

The young Took took his cue.

" See these two marks," he whispered, running his finger along the tube. "That's a G and that's Gandalf's elf-mark. In Frodo's book it says all his fireworks were marked like that."

"What sort of firework is it?" asked Theo, trying to remember the descriptions his grandparents had given of the great display at Bilbo's eleventy-first birthday party. They had spoken of showers of stars and eagles of light, sailing ships and silver spears - and most of all they had talked of the dragon, breathing green and scarlet flame.

"There's no way of knowing until we set it off," said Pippin.

Faramir felt butterflies leap in his stomach. Well, of course the plan was to set the firework off tonight, but suddenly somehow, he wondered if it were such a good idea. Once it was set off, it was gone forever. If they left it as it was, it would be as if there would always be a little bit of the wizard's magic remaining.

He shook his head at his own nonsense - what would be the point of that? The firework was made to be seen and whatever magnificent glory was hidden inside the dull packaging would soon be revealed.

"We should do it soon, while most of the younger children are still awake. It's more or less dark outside now," said Goldie.

Merry began issuing instructions, sending Hamfast to light a taper from the lantern and handing the firework to Theo to take outside. They would sneak past the singing contest and set off the firework from behind the audience. Wouldn't everyone be surprised?

The members of the firework conspiracy got to their feet and began to make their way outside.

"Don't get so close with that flame," hissed Merry - as it happened, about a second too late as Hamfast's foot tangled with a coiled rope on the dark ground. The child stumbled forwards, throwing the burning taper as he put out his hands to break his fall.

Flame arced through the air, dropping right in front of Theo, who held the firework tightly in his fist. The taper dropped to the ground and guttered into darkness. For a brief moment the conspirators sighed in relief. Then a white spark flared in Theo's hands.

"It's alight," he squeaked, frozen in terror.

"Drop it!" shouted Merry. "Run!"

As the other children began to push their way past boxes and flee from the tent, Theo made himself pry his fingers from the tube. Silver stars danced along the short fuse toward the firework itself. As he dropped it, it began to emit a high pitched shriek. He remained petrified. The last thing he saw was an eruption of green fire. It was beautiful.

The gentle melody filled the cool evening air, entrancing the audience. An elderly hobbit woman stood before them, playing a wooden flute.

Celeborn had to admit he was surprised at the musical talent in the Shire - yet another area in which he had underestimated hobbits, he thought wryly. He and Glorfindel had finally settled on a simple hymn to Elbereth, but they were waiting for the next break in the performance to discuss who was to take which parts of the harmonies. He was actually a little nervous about singing in front of the several hundred hobbits gathered to watch the competition. This might be the only time many of these mortals met an elf, and he wanted it to be a pleasant experience.

An unnatural shriek split the air.

The music stopped instantly. Then there were distant screams and suddenly everyone was looking to see where the sound had come from. His elven hearing allowed Celeborn to pin-point the sound immediately. A small pavilion some distance away was on fire, flickering and fizzing with eerie green flame. Five small figures spilled out of the tent.

With their longer legs, the elves reached the fire first. The flames had begun to resolve themselves into natural yellow and the fabric of the tent was gradually disintegrating. "Theo's still in there," gasped out a terrified Merry Gamgee.

Celeborn strode into the collapsing pavilion. What was left of it was filling with smoke. He could just make out the little hobbit curled up on the floor behind a stack of burning boxes, motionless. There was no clear path, so he began grabbing the flaming boxes and throwing them out of the way.

A few seconds later, though it felt like far longer, he reached the child and scooped him up in his arms.

***

"He's not breathing," said Celeborn placing the child at Glorfindel's feet as the pavilion behind him crumpled into ashes.

Glorfindel vaguely heard Merry and Estella's anguished cries as he dropped to his knees. He blocked out the sound, preparing himself for the task ahead. He took Theo's right hand in his own and placed his left palm on the child's brow.

It would be difficult to explain elvish healing to anyone who was not themselves an elf, but however exactly it worked, Glorfindel called on all his resources now. The child's spirit was almost gone, was loosening its ties to the tiny choked and injured body.

Mortals. Don't befriend them, don't enjoy their company, certainly never love them - they all die in the end and some die sooner than others. They were the lessons of his long ago youth, lessons he had accepted until he wound up living in Imladris, where there seemed to be a constant stream of orphaned mortal children or visiting dwarves.

He had learned to accept grief, had learned in some degree why death might be called the Gift of Men, had even come close to understanding why Arwen might choose to take that doom upon herself.

But there was no way he was going to accept that this little one's time had come. Theo Brandybuck, whose heart was filled with nothing but love and joy and mischief, was not going to die over something so stupid.

The elf reached out with his own spirit and offered his strength, all of it, whatever was necessary. At first it seemed as if Theo's spirit simply retreated further, then slowly Glorfindel felt the child's tentative answer.

As if from very far off, he heard a rough, weak cough. The rest of his senses returned in a dizzying whirl. He saw Theo's ash-smudged nose wrinkle as the youngster opened his eyes, heard sobs of astonishment and relief all around him.

Everything swayed. No, he corrected himself, he was swaying. He shifted his weight a little so that he would not pitch forwards onto his recovering patient, and therefore crumpled sideways as the darkness claimed him.

***

As Glorfindel collapsed to the ground and Merry and Estella swept their coughing son into their arms, Celeborn tried to lift his hands out of the cold water. Diamond and Elanor tut-tutted him and held tighter to his wrists.

As soon as Celeborn had placed Theo on the ground, Diamond had seen the burns on the elf's hands. Hobbit healing being far more practical than the elf-kind, she had called for Elanor's help and they had dragged the pain- dazed Celeborn over to a barrel of cold water and instructed him to plunge his hands in.

It wasn't very dignified, to be nursemaided by these two insistent hobbits, but it wasn't his dignity that made him impatient with his blistered hands. He wanted to be helpful, not helped. He could see Elladan and Elrohir standing worriedly over the prone form of Glorfindel. Tearful and scared hobbit children milled around, with not quite enough parents to comfort them all at once.

Then he looked back at the Brandybuck family. With typical hobbit resilience, Theo was already getting to his feet, if a little uncertainly. His parents, their faces streaked with happy tears were holding onto him tightly and the tiny Kali was also swept into the family cuddle.

And suddenly he missed them terribly. His own family; Galadriel and Celebrian. Tears welled in his eyes, where they were spotted by Diamond.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He glanced across at his two grandsons who were trying to make the unconscious Glorfindel more comfortable and smiled to himself. He was surprised. In the end, it hadn't been a difficult decision at all.

"Nothing's wrong," he murmured tearfully. "I'm going to see them again. I'm going to see them all again."

Elanor took a handkerchief from her pocket and gave him a stern look as he tried to take his hands out of the water to accept it. She dabbed at his face a little, smearing her white handkerchief with soot.

Pippin and Sam hadn't the heart to chastise their children for their part in the near fatal accident and Merry certainly wasn't going to tell Theo off. All three suspected that the youngsters had learned their lesson, and Rosie, Diamond and Estella wholeheartedly concurred.

It took several hours for everyone to calm down and for Glorfindel to recover consciousness. Appetites gradually recovered enough for supper, and after that, the hobbits prepared to sleep.

***

Three elves, two dark-haired and one silver, sat on the top of the down, watching the sunrise. A fourth figure, whose long golden hair glinted even in the first light of the day, reclined on the ground, his head resting on Elladan's knee.

Spread below them, the fair was almost silent. Here and there pipeweed smoke rose from the small encampments, where one or two hobbits were still awake. It was a tranquil scene.

Turning his face away from the rising sun, Celeborn gazed westward as he announced his decision to the others. They murmured and nodded their understanding. Briefly they discussed practicalities - when he was to sail, what needed to be done beforehand. Then they settled back into companionable silence for several minutes.

"Gdrrr," slurred Glorfindel suddenly.

"Sorry Glorfindel, you're not making much sense," said Elladan, his hand patting the older elf's shoulder as he frowned at him in concern. "I think the walk to the top of the hill has worn you out. We shouldn't have let you come."

Glorfindel's brows knit as he clearly prepared to make an effort.

"Gondor," he said. "Have to go to Gondor. Promised. Mortal children are so -- mortal."

The others looked at him, puzzled, but he seemed to have dozed off.

Elrohir took a deep breath and met his brother's eyes. "What about -

".Us?" finished Elladan. "And what about Imladris?"

"It's the same question really isn't it?"

Another long silence fell between them, each knowing that the other had thought long on this question without finding a solution.

As Elladan looked down at the hillside of sleeping hobbits a new thought crossed his mind. "Perhaps not. Perhaps there are those among men and hobbits and even dwarves who might have a use for a place where they can meet and learn each others stories."

The sunrise gleamed in Elrohir's eyes as he thought through his brother's idea.

He nodded with enthusiasm. "It might take some time to organise though."

"Oh several years at least. And we'll have to visit a lot of people to let them know," laughed Elladan.

"You should probably speak to Merry and young Faramir about the books," added Celeborn, who had still not torn his eyes away from the West, but was smiling as he listened to the twins' idea.

The sun continued the creep into the sky. Here and there on the hillside, hobbits were stirring and beginning to hunger for breakfast.

The End.