Five pairs of wide brown eyes peer from various hiding places. The King, dressed in rich silks and velvets, stands with his face to the wall, hands over his eyes. “One, two, three,” he counts, slowly getting up to ten. Five tiny bodies press themselves further back into their hiding places, giggle softly. “Ten!” the King says loudly, and turns around. Silence. He looks around the great drawing room, and catches sight of a corner of bright blue linen. Silent as a cat, he creeps across the room and pounces, snatching Goldilocks Gamgee out of her hiding place under the sofa with a whoop. She squeals, and the rest of junior Gamgees spring from their hiding-places, for the rules are that when one is caught, the rest must run to base before the King catches them. The King dances about with the hobbit under his arm, reaching out to tag curly brown heads. They seek refuge on a table, and he joins them, laughing. The Gamgees giggle and riffle through his pockets, for the King always carries candy.
“I think that you’re an honorary hobbit, King Strider,” Merry-lad says, grinning.
Aragorn laughs and ruffles his hair. “That I am, my boy. That I am.”