Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story, it all belongs to Tolkien, brilliant man. Really, I mean, who else do you know who can create different languages, cultures and thousands of years of history with them? The only characters I own are the original ones' whose names are denoted with an asterisk, just for clarification. If you want to use them, you've got to ask me. I don't own Kalimac Brandybuck, though, because his name was taken straight from Appendix F of RotK. I hope this isn't confusing you too much.

***Setting: Tuckborough; 1423***

*Amethyst and *Aemilia Took (5 years old, November 1418)

*Arwen Baggins (5years old) birth date, said to be October 24, 1418 (yes, I'm changing Arwen's birthday!)

Elanor Gamgee (2 years old) March 25, 1421;

Frodo Gamgee (5 months) 1423

Kalimac "Kali" Brandybuck (1 year, 1422)

* * *

Title: His Little Evenstar

Chapter Six: A Long Expected Party

        The meadow outside of the Great Smials was over-flowing with Hobbits, presents, and of course, food! *So this is a feast!* Arwen thought as she felt her pupils dilating from the sheer enormity of it all. Half of the field as covered in crowded tables and Arwen felt herself being propelled towards them seemingly without her knowledge. But Daddy had been expecting this and followed closely behind his daughter, filling her plate with all of her favorites, plus some foreign treats: Elven recipes that Merry and Pippin had begged from the Cook of Rivendell on their return trip. He had also spent many of his off-duty hours in Minas Tirith badgering the recipes out of the royal servants there as well, most of which never were quite able to believe in the Hobbits' insistence that Second Breakfast and Elevenses were in fact real meals.

        Once her plate was full, Arwen turned around and proceeded to follow her father back to his table, but Uncle Pippin had other plans.

        "Now, Arwen," he teased gently. "Surely you don't want to spend the party with terribly old lads like your Daddy!" At this he turned to Frodo who gave Pippin a look of mock-surprise, and rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath. "I think," Uncle Pippin continued, "that you would prefer dinning with your friends. In fact, I have a special spot reserved just for you, my dear. Now follow me!" He then proceeded to pick up Arwen's plate and carried it high over his head with one hand, while leading his small "niece" with the other.

        "Pip!" Daddy gasped in alarm, noticing the precariously balanced plate, dreading a repeat of that morning's kitchen disaster. "Be careful with that!"

        "Uncle Pippin gave Daddy his most offending look. "Why, Cousin Frodo, you didn't think I'd actually drop this, did you? I'll have you know that I carried a tray twice this size at the Cormallen Feast and I didn't break a single dish!" Daddy seemed to be considering this for a second before sending them on their way with a laugh.

        Having obtained the necessary permission, Pippin escorted his small guest through the maze of tables, straight towards the group of smaller children's tables in the back. Then as they neared one in the back, she saw them. "Amy! Lia!" Arwen shouted running over to her friends. The Took twins (Amethyst and Aemilia, who were the same age as she, and the eldest children of Pippin's sister Pearl and her husband, Berliac Brandybuck) were standing on their chairs, waving their arms, and making a deliberate spectacle so as to grab the attention of their mutual friend.

        "Took you long enough," Aemilia chided, jumping down from the table to give her friend a hug. "Uncle Pippin was beginning to think you weren't coming!"

        "What?" Arwen looked up at her uncle, not bothering to hide her disbelief. "I wouldn't miss your party, Uncle Pip!"

        "Of course not," Pippin argued playfully. "Little Lia here is putting words in my mouth."

        "She is not," Amethyst jumped to her sister's defense. "I heard you, too, Uncle Pip! You said Cousin Frodo was probably taking a short-cut to see Elves near Woody-End!"

        "You misunderstood me, Little Miss Took," Pippin countered. "I merely said that Frodo may have stopped to speak to Elves along the way. I never implied that he would go *out* of his way to find them."

        "Did to!"

        "Did not!"

        "Did to!"

        As is common with this innocent game, the young tongue-tied lasses and the "adult" birthday-lad found themselves switching lines. And before they knew it, they were rolling on the floor laughing, giggling, and tickling each other for what appeared to be (and what was) no apparent reason. The disappointed girls soon realized that tickling a hobbit wearing a mail-shirt wasn't exactly the best idea in the world, since it was nigh impossible. But that didn't stop them from having a fun time trying.

        The energetic pile of Hobbits were completely oblivious to their surroundings until a loud "Ahem!" repeated itself three or four times in an attempt to gain attention. Pippin though, decided that this particular person wasn't worth his time since he (she?) didn't have the courtesy to greet him properly. And as for the question of how humiliating himself at his coming-of-age, well that wasn't really an issue since everyone already knew his reputation anyway.

        "Pippin, dear! I thought you were supposed to be dignified today. Whatever would the Thain say if he could see you now?" Pippin rolled over onto his back, mindful of Arwen and his nieces, to find Diamond (a Took cousin from the North Farthing, whom he had been courting for several months) standing above him, trying to appear stern, but failing miserably. "Come along, dear, do you not want to dance? The music has started."

        Without another word, Pippin jumped up and took his beloved's hand. "I would be most honored, Miss Took." He bowed low and Diamond, as well as Arwen, Amy, and Lia had hard time deciding if the lad was being sincere or merely playing along with her. Either way, Diamond welcomed the extra courtesy Pippin had shown her and led the birthday-lad off to the dismay of the young trio.

        "So now what do we do, Arwen?" Lia asked, turning expectantly to her friend.

        "Why are you asking me? How should I know?"

        "Because you're oldest," Lia answered, as though that answered everything.

        "Only by 2 weeks!"

        "So?"

        "Well," Arwen began hesitantly, scanning the crowd for possible forms of entertainment. But upon spotting Daddy on the other side of the field once more, she remembered that she had to be extra good and she couldn't make extra trouble for him. Darn it! That canceled out half of her ideas. Then she found it - Uncle Merry was sitting around a cluster of small curly heads, which could really only mean one thing: story time. But would they want to sit down and listen yet again to stories that they had hear countless times? Perhaps. "Let's go see which story Uncle Merry's telling," she suggested. All of her doubts were soon erased as Amy and Lia raced ahead straight towards the tall hobbit in question. No, they certainly wouldn't tire of his stories quite yet - well, come to think of it - they probably never would be - and neither would she.

        As most children eager for entertainment, they paid little or no heed to those around them and by sheer luck managed to avoid plowing into various guests who where innocently minding their own business. They eventually made it to the story circle and plopped themselves down by Uncle Merry's feet, a little disappointed to find that his young son, Kalimac, had monopolized the story teller's lap.

        "So there we were," Uncle Merry was saying, "surrounded by Uruk-hai like a great big wall.

        "What're those Uk-ha things," Lia asked, attempting to pronounce the foreign word.

        Merry looked at the wide-eyed group of children who were hanging on his every word, wondering not for the first time if he should even be telling this story. Oh what was he thinking? It was harmless, so long as he left out certain details. "Well," Merry began again, "did you ever hear Old Bilbo's stories about Orcs and goblins?"

        "Oh, yes, it's my favorite! My brother told it to me."

        "Well, old Sharkey, he lived down south before he came up her, and he made Uruk-hai by mixing Orc and goblin blood. So they were tall, strong like Orcs, but twice as ugly, just like the smaller goblins." The reaction was about what he'd anticipated. All of the lasses were shrieking "Ew!", all except Aemilia, who joined the lads in inching closer, wide-eyed, their jaws dropped and all the more fascinated by this turn of events. "So, as I was saying, there we were, surrounded by big ugly Uruk-hai on all sides, minding our own business and being good for once, when we realized that they were all arguing amongst themselves about what to eat for dinner. Then one of the enormous, nasty creatures says "What about them, they're fresh!"

        "You mean they wanted to eat you?" one of the lads piped up.

        "Oh yes, they'd only had bread for days, moldy bread with slimy worms and beetles. They wanted some real, juicy, fresh meat! They were just about to get their hands on a nice, big Hobbit sandwich when- BAM! They were killed! Arrows in the back. The Rohans had come to rescue us! But we didn't know they were friends, so we ran away. Into Fangorn Forest. It's like the Old Forest, only worse. And one followed us in there, wanting to have his Hobbit sandwich all to himself." Uncle Merry rubbed his tummy. "All of this talk of Hobbit sandwiches is making me hungry. How about some desert?

        "No!" the children wailed.

        "Good gracious! You are Hobbit children, aren't you?" he asked, picking up a small lad, seeming to inspect him. "No, must be an Elf," Merry decided with mock-sincerity, and was rewarded with plenty of laughs from the children. "It looks like a hobbit, but it surely doesn't eat like one."

        "Of course I'm a hobbit, and I can prove it," the child declared, trying unsuccessfully to contain his giggles as he perfectly recited his family history of the past one hundred years.

        "Impressive," Merry exclaimed truthfully. He himself surely had not been such an attentive student at that age. "But I'm afraid you have yet to prove it. How do I know that you did not learn someone else's family history just for show?"

        "I wouldn't!" was the indignant reply.

        "Oh, no, well then, if you truly are a hobbit, then you'll just have to take advantage of Uncle Pip's generous table. While I oblige my wife with a dance."

        "Oblige?" a new voice interrupted with a hint of scolding. The children and Merry all turned around to find Merry's wife, Estella, standing there, obviously amused. "You mean you don't want to dance."

        "Uhh-" For once the usually tactful and diplomatic heir to the Mastership of Buckland found himself at a loss for words, something that the children found amusing to no end. Estella shook her head ruefully, took little Kalimac in one arm and somehow managed to drag along Merry who had yet to find his voice.

~To Be Continued~

Sorry that ended abruptly. I've been experiencing some major computer problems so I lost some of my really good ideas for later on in the chapter. I have managed to reconstruct this part and I want to get it up so I don't loose in the unlikely event that my computer hard-drive crashes again. I hope this satisfies you all for the time-being. The party will continue in the next chapter. In which two lads honor Pippin (the King of the Pranksters) with a fire-work stunt of their own. You will see more of Estella and Diamond. Plus some special party guests that even Pippin doesn't know about. And how exactly does little Arwen fit into all of this?

Once the Party is over I PROMISE that this story will pick-up speed!

Please don't forget to leave a REVIEW!!!