For Daynawayna, who wanted to see Bilbo and Boromir discussing Bilbo’s Adventure with the Dwarves, in particular Smaug. This isn’t exactly what you requested, but I hope it suffices.

And I promise, this will be the last chapter with any mention of golf! This is proving to be a harder subplot to get rid of than Pippin’s rum cake!

 
 
“Hobbits really are amazing creatures, as I have said before. You can learn all that there is to know about their ways in a month, and yet after a hundred years they can still surprise you at a pinch.” ~ FOTR, Shadows of the Past
 

Chapter 11: Crouching Hobbit, Roaring Dragon

The following night, they were once again gathered in the Hall of Fire, and Legolas was again pondering the nature of hobbits. He had learned much already in a short amount of time and he was coming to see that hobbits really were quite remarkable, in their own subtle way.

He observed them from across the room and found that he could guess of what they were speaking, though he could not hear them over the din. Sam was showing a scroll to that dwarf, Gimli, and looking at the squat, bearded figure expectantly. So Sam had finished his poem at last. Frodo stood nearby, offering Sam support with his quiet presence. Meanwhile, Merry and Pippin had found Arwen and were hanging off her every word, when they weren’t competing with each other over who got to flirt with her next, all much to her amusement. In the other corner of the room, Bilbo was speaking ardently with Boromir, Lindir and Glorfindel, and the Man was asking questions that kept the old hobbit’s eyes crinkling with mirth.

Legolas smiled to see this as he remembered his first major lesson of the day: hobbits can be discouraged from rambling, if one knew how to distract them properly.  

Legolas entered the training room behind Boromir. He took in the room with one quick glance, all he needed to tell him where everything was located. There were wooden dummies lined against the nearest wall, and hanging along the far wall were four wooden daggers. Next to these displayed on plaques were four metal daggers, three of ancient make, encrusted with many jewels, and one plain but elegant with smooth curves and Elvish runes along the sharp blade. A straw mat covered the center of the stone floor, and next to the porch overlooking the courtyard was a table.

Legolas walked over to the daggers and inspected them more closely. The four wooden daggers were made in perfect replica of the three ancient daggers. He had never seen anything like them, but the fourth was newly forged by the sword-smith of Rivendell. There was not a single knick on the blade nor any wear on the hilt.

“These are the hobbits’ swords,” he guessed.

“Yes,” Boromir confirmed. “The wood-smith constructed the replicas, as well as the shields and dummies. The replicas were a necessity. Even in Gondor, young boys learn swordplay with wooden sticks. Also, we had to wait for the sword-smith to forge a new blade for Frodo; his was broken in the flight from the Nazgûl. They rarely use the wooden daggers any more. They have improved much over the last five weeks. You will be much impressed when you see them train.”

“You have come to know them well,” Legolas said, hearing the admiration and love in the man's voice. “Will you tell me about them? I find I do not know as much about hobbits as I should, if I am to be traveling with them.”

Boromir’s face brightened instantly at this. He had, in fact, come to know the hobbits very well over the last five weeks. Indeed, according to them, he now knew everything he would ever need to know about hobbits. He was not so certain about that, but he was still more than happy to share what knowledge he did have with the elf.

“There’s really not much to them, when you get down to it,” Boromir started. “They can be overwhelming at first, but once you get to know them, they are quite endearing and not at all intimidating, though sometimes their forthrightness can be off-putting. They also tend to jest about serious matters, I have found, and they prefer to keep their conversations light and carefree. Don’t let their sweetness fool you though for they can be quite devious when they put their minds to it. Do you know they actually conned Lindir into playing a prank on Gandalf and Elrond, and that Bilbo and Frodo, and on a couple of occasions even Sam, accosted half the residence with snowballs?”

“Did they?” Legolas asked, chuckling under his breath. “It sounds as though they have turned this house upside down with their antics.”

“That they have, but I do not believe that Elrond would have it any other way,” Boromir said.

“What else can you tell me about them?” Legolas asked. “I wish to know everything. Most especially, I would like to know how to deter their passionate recitations of golf rules, or anything else that might come up.”

Now Boromir roared with laughter. “Oh, yes, that is important to know, among other things,” he said. “There actually are some rules, so to speak, when it comes to hobbits. It only took me a week or so to figure them out, but I will be more than glad to give you a brief lesson.”

They went to the table and sat facing the courtyard. Boromir put his feet up on the chair opposite him and stretched languidly, clasping his hands behind his head. Legolas sat more stoically, his hands folded in his lap and his feet flat on the ground, unbeknownst to him that a month earlier, Boromir would have mirrored his posture without thought or hesitation.

“The first thing you need to know is how to keep the hobbits from becoming long-winded in the first place, unless you have the time to spare, for it is quite enjoyable just to listen to them babble on.” Boromir then winked conspiratorially at the elf. “Now, everyone thinks that I ask the hobbits so many questions because I do not know any better, but I find that asking a lot of questions helps to keep their answers shorter and more to the point. It really is the best way to ensure that all you learn about is, for instance, the making of snow hobbits, and not snow hobbits, snow shoes, sled racing, Yule, the Long Winter, and the trauma of walking in on Aunt Amber in the bath tub – which has nothing to do with anything else except that it happened in Pippin’s twenty-third winter and he will be forever scarred by the experience.

“Lectures cannot always be avoided however. Frodo especially is not a force to be reckoned with. When a foul mood strikes him, it’s best to just do what he says until the storm passes.”

Legolas nodded, making notes of all that he was being told while simultaneously trying to forget about Aunt Amber. Finally he said, “I cannot imagine Frodo in a foul mood. He seems so even-tempered.”

“He is at that,” Boromir confirmed, “until you make the mistake of upsetting his friends. Especially Sam. He’ll allow friendly teasing of Merry and Pippin but he’s more protective of Sam.”

“What else can you tell me? Erestor said I could distract them by mentioning food,” Legolas said.

Boromir considered this strategy carefully for a moment before answering. “That can work, but only if you’re within a half-hour of their next meal time, which fortunately occurs about every two to three hours. First breakfast is at seven, second breakfast at nine, elevenses at eleven, luncheon is at one, tea at four, and dinner, or supper, at six. Afters, which is what they call dessert, comes an hour after they finish ‘filling up the corners’ at dinner.”

“Do they spend all day eating then?” Legolas asked, astonished at this elaborate list of mealtimes, and wondered how the hobbits found time to do anything else.

“More or less, though sometimes they’ll skip elevenses or second breakfast, or they’ll have a late lunch and combine that with an early tea for… what did they call it? Tunch,” Boromir explained. “Bilbo made that meal up with Frodo first came to live with him. Bilbo was worried that Frodo’s appetite wasn’t what it should have been for a lad just into his tweens.”

“Frodo lived with Bilbo then? What about his parents? And does tweens mean?” Legolas asked.  

And so Legolas had learned much about Hobbits in the hour they waited for the hobbits to arrive for their next training session. He learned about hobbit ages and how Frodo came to live with Bilbo, as well as the hobbits’ respective standings in their homeland. This led to a brief discussion on family status and political standings. He then went on to tell the elf about the Conspiracy. Boromir explained this was how he knew to seek out Sam to help them with their golf club caper, and even Legolas had to admit that servants make the best spies.

His second major lesson that day came with the arrival of the hobbits themselves. He and Boromir had met in the training room so as to be as far away from the hobbits’ rooms as they could get without actually leaving the house. They hoped, in this way, to miss all the excitement when the hobbits awoke and discovered their precious golf clubs missing. They expected there to be much shouting as tempers flared and frustration turned to irritation. They did not expect to see the hobbits stroll casually into the room, smiling up at them with wide and cheerful grins. Nor did they anticipate the loophole that the hobbits discovered in their ill-conceived prank.

From this, Legolas learned that hobbits are tirelessly cheerful and ruthlessly sharp.  

“Good morning,” the hobbits greet as they entered the training room.

“Morning, lads,” Boromir greeted after a startled pause at finding the hobbits so jubilant. Then he motioned, with a fair amount of feigned distress, at the hobbits’ empty hands. “What happened? I thought we were going golfing this morning.”

“Frodo hid the clubs,” Merry informed smugly as he went to the far wall and took up his sword.

Frodo sighed. “I did not hide the clubs,” he said irritably. This was clearly not the first time he had said that this morning. “Why would I do such a preposterous thing?”

“So you would not have to go through with the rematch and lose to me again, naturally,” Merry explained. “So you wouldn’t have to admit that yesterday was not a fluke and that I am simply better than you now.”

“You are delusional,” Frodo said. “I didn’t hide them.”

“No,” Pippin jumped in, “you had Sam do it for you. So where are they Sam?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know,” he answered, in the most unassuming voice he could manage. It was a convincing performance; he’d had lots of practice during the Conspiracy.

“Stop covering for him, Sam,” Merry said. “Where did you put them?”

“I didn’t put those clubs anywhere other than Mr. Bilbo’s wardrobe,” Sam said, truthfully enough.

“Oh really?” Merry said. “Well then, if you put the clubs in the wardrobe and neither of you moved them since, why aren’t they in the wardrobe now? Don’t tell me you don’t know anything Sam. You disappeared all of a sudden last night for quite a while. Where were you?”

“I told you, I had to run to the privy. Something as I ate didn’t agree with me,” Sam replied calmly.

“A likely story,” Pippin said, narrowing his eyes at the gardener. “Simple enough not to raise our suspicions at the time, but it’s not good enough now.”

“This is ridiculous,” Frodo said, throwing up his hands. He was beginning to lose his temper. “Sam was not gone long enough to do what you are suggesting. Now, no more bothering Sam with this. He doesn’t know anything. I don’t know anything. No one hid the clubs, they’re just… gone.”

“Got up and walked away on their own, did they?” Merry teased. “Just admit, Frodo, that you’re embarrassed to play against me again, and I’ll be more than happy to drop the matter.”

“I will admit nothing,” Frodo said. “We will have that rematch, even if I have to tear this house apart to find those clubs.”

“Wouldn’t it just be easier to have the wood-smith make another set?” Pippin asked then.

For the briefest of moments, everything in the room froze. Merry and Frodo paused to consider this possibility, while Sam, Legolas and Boromir felt panic clench at their hearts. The wood-smith! She was a master of crafts and could create another set within days. The three conspirators shared a horrified glance that went unnoticed by the others.

“That’s a good idea, Pip,” Merry said, nodding. “I’m sure she’d be more than willing to make us a set. I bet she could have it done in a day or two!”

“Merry, I’m sure that the wood-smith is quite busy. She must have a docket full of other projects she would have to complete before even starting on the clubs,” Frodo said, in a very pointed tone to Sam’s ears. Sam caught Boromir’s eyes and tilted his head meaningfully towards the door.

“How busy can she be?” Merry said, not noticing any of this. “We’ll go now and ask her.”

“Better to wait until after your training session,” Boromir said then, finding his voice at last. He gave Sam a nearly indiscernible nod, then nudged Legolas ever-so-slightly towards the door as he continued to address the hobbits. “You have skipped far too many sessions and I will not permit you to miss another. We will have to work doubly hard today to make up for the last two days.”

“I will leave you to your training then,” Legolas said.

“You’re not going to watch?” Pippin asked, looking very disappointed that the elf had to leave so soon.

“I have other matters to attend to, but I will return before the end of your session,” Legolas promised. “I am eager to see what you can do.”

Once in the corridor, Legolas broke into a sprint and headed for the wood-smith’s shed. He did need new arrows and he could use another box for his extra arrowheads and whittling knives. And the bed frame. Yes, the bed frame in his room had felt most unstable during the night.  

Convincing the wood-smith to join the conspiracy had been easy; she was no more eager for the hobbits to have a new set of golf clubs than was anyone else. After that, Legolas had sought some refreshment and went for a short walk through the woods. He had located the tree he had hid the clubs in and it was only with great difficulty that he spotted the sack in the high boughs. Feeling more secure that the hobbits would not be able to find them, Legolas had returned to the training room and spent the rest of the morning watching the hobbits at their training.

Watching them now in the soft glow of the fires, there was little hint of the athleticism they had displayed during their session. Sure-footed they were without a doubt, but graceful would not be the first word to come to his mind when describing them. Yet graceful they had been while they trained, Frodo especially. The Elven blade fit his hand perfectly and he found wielding the weapon to be rather enjoyable, like a dance. Legolas had never heard swordplay be likened to a dance before, but he could see the poetry in their structured movements and understood what Frodo meant.

Boromir had watched his charges carefully, and while there was pride in his eyes there was a sadness also, heavy with regret. Legolas knew the reason for that without having to ask. Training for battle meant the hobbits would eventually have to fight, and that came with a heavy price. The hobbits would lose much of their innocence over the course of the Quest. Yet if that was all they lost then Legolas would consider it a mercy. After all, had they not all been innocent at one time?

Legolas’s third major lesson had come after the training session, when they had gone to the dining hall to enjoy an early lunch. He had soon realized that he would have to add cunning and clever to his description of hobbits.  

After the meal, Merry and Pippin dashed off to find the wood-smith and inquire about the making of more golf clubs. As they dashed out of the dining hall, Frodo called after them, “I want my clubs made of holly!”

Merry’s response was muffled by the closing of the door, and Sam looked at his master dubiously. “Really, sir, where are they going to be finding holly hereabouts?”

“Something tells me the wood-smith will be quite busy after all, and so it doesn’t really matter does it?” Frodo said with a smirk at his friend. Then he regarded Boromir and Legolas with a calculating gaze and finally laughed. “All right, you three. Out with it.”

“Out with what?” Boromir asked, trying to look baffled. Next to him, Legolas kept his expression neutral.

“Boromir, I am sure that you are a first-rate Captain General, but you’re an amateur prankster at best,” Frodo said. “And Legolas, you could have at least waited a few minutes before sprinting out the door this morning. Honestly, I never would have expected to see such stricken and panicked looks on seasoned warriors such as yourselves, and over such a silly thing as golf. And Sam, you of all people should know better. Did you think I wouldn’t notice the art books were moved when Merry and Pippin searched your room, and wonder why that would be?”

“Well,” Sam stammered, at a loss for words. Truth was, everything had happened so quickly that he hadn’t thought that one through very well.

“You should have at least had the sense to not speak in the open as you did,” Frodo continued. “Even if you did get yourselves to the shadows, you were still too easily spied. I wondered why Sam had lied about going to the privy when he returned to the Hall of Fire last night, but I figured it was none of my business and so kept quiet. It didn’t escape my attention that it was at least another half-hour before the two of you returned. Then the golf clubs turned up missing this morning, along with the art books. I can only assume that you knew Merry and Pippin would look there for the clubs, Sam, and so you had Boromir and Legolas hide the books also, for which I am grateful.”

“You’re not upset then, are you, Mr. Frodo?” Sam finally asked.

“No, not at all actually. There’s only so much golf I can take and I was not looking forward to another match. I’m just glad you took my hint about ensuring the wood-smith was busy with other projects. I had hoped one of you would think to run down there and ask her to deny my cousins their request. I trust that is why you left, Legolas,” Frodo said.

Legolas nodded, feeling suddenly very foolish. He had been acting like a… well, like a hobbit the last couple of days. “Your cousins will find that she has had a sudden influx of requests and will not be able to make another set of golf clubs for at least a month.”

“Good,” Frodo said and sighed with relief. “That saves me having to play another round and from having to wear plus-fours.”

“Plus-fours?” Boromir asked.

“Golfing attire,” Frodo explained. “You’re supposed to wear them during tournaments. They’re really nothing more than breeches, a shirt, and a jacket for cold weather, but they’re made of the most hideously combined colors you can imagine. I am convinced they are nothing more than an everlasting joke on golfers everywhere, begun by a frustrated wife hundreds of years ago. Bilbo was wearing a set this morning, of pea-green and fuchsia, and that gave Merry the idea to ask the seamstresses to make some for the rest of us, including the two of you. Trust me, you would not have enjoyed them nor looked very good in them.”

“No one looks good in them,” Sam muttered, then blushed when he realized he had spoken out loud. “Begging your pardon for saying so.”

Frodo laughed and patted Sam affectionately on the shoulder. “No need to beg apology when all you speak is the truth,” he assured. He looked back at Boromir and Legolas and raised his eyebrows at them. “Now, wherever you have hid the clubs and the books, I trust you will put them back into their proper places before we leave, or at least let someone else know where they are, should Merry and Pippin remain behind.”

“Of course,” Boromir agreed.

Frodo stood then and Sam stood with him. “Let’s go and check on Bill, shall we? We’ll swing by the wood-smith’s shed on the way and rescue her from my cousins.”

When the hobbits were gone, Boromir and Legolas looked at each other and burst into laughter.  

Legolas laughed to remember it. How Frodo had deduced their misdeeds so easily had been an eye-opener and no mistake. He was only grateful that Merry and Pippin had been too preoccupied to take notice, but he would not be surprised if they untangled the clues themselves given enough time and reflection.

Yes, hobbits were amazing creatures, Legolas now realized. Simple and innocent they appeared, but there was so much more to them than that. They were also quite clever but also considerate of others and protective of each other. Upon occasion  they were even devious, for they loved to jest and play about and no doubt the solemnity that surrounded them in Rivendell was quite suffocating to them at times. They were inquisitive, always eager to learn something new, though they claimed that was a rare trait among most hobbits. They were gentle yet tough, and while they preferred to relax and eat and enjoy their days, they were also energetic and athletic and passionate about everything they took an interest in. Though Legolas had yet to see their courage and steadfastness, he had heard many stories about those traits as well. And yet…

He could not help but wonder if the hobbits were really prepared for what was to come. They have faced much darkness and fear already, but that was only the beginning. There was much more to come, worse things would happen, things they could not begin to imagine, and the road would only grow darker and more despairing with every footstep taken towards Mordor.

He was suddenly pulled from his thoughts when the din quieted around him and an expectant silence filled the hall. He turned to see that Bilbo was now standing and waiting for everyone’s attention. The other hobbits were now seated around him. 

“Thank you,” he said after a time. “Boromir has been asking me some interesting questions about my adventure with the dragon, Smaug, and when I told him that I had written a version of the story that I would tell all my youngest cousins back home, he demanded to hear it. I hope you do not mind if I begin tonight’s story-telling with such a silly story.”

He paused and when no one gainsaid him, he cleared his throat, looked around the room pointedly one last time, then smiled cheerfully and began his tale in the exact tone of voice he would use in speaking to a small child.

“There once was a hobbit who led a perfectly comfortable life and he was very happy to continue to do so for all the rest of his days. Every morning, he woke up, had breakfast, toiled in the garden, had breakfast again, visited his neighbors and had elevenses with his cousins before taking a stroll over the hills with his friends to have a picnic lunch by the river. His afternoons were just as grand as his mornings. He and his friends would go into town and browse the market, then he would return up the Hill to his cozy hole for a pipe before tea. After that, he would read another chapter in his newest book and answer and send mail before making dinner and enjoying a nice simple meal in his parlor. When the sun went down, he would take a long, hot bath and finally go to bed.  

“This went on day after day, month after month, for many joyful years, until one day a wizard appeared on his doorstep. After the wizard came thirteen jolly dwarves and they made themselves quite at home. Before the old hobbit knew what was happening, he was agreeing to join the dwarves on an adventure to steal gold from a dragon! Quite astonishing for any hobbit, even one of Took descent, and this particular hobbit was so astounded that when he woke the next morning he managed to convince himself it was all a dream. Only it wasn’t. The wizard appeared again and before the hobbit could offer him some tea, he was being whisked out his door and onto the road to meet the dwarves at the inn. And thus began a most strange and exciting adventure.  

“Now, one would think that he would be quite apprehensive at the thought of stealing gold from a dragon, for there is nothing a dragon loves more than his gold. It surpasses even a hobbit’s love for soft tilled earth and hearty food. But this little hobbit was not so worried to start, for the dragon was a long way off in a distant land and so of little consequence for the time being. No, what he was most worried about was missing too many meals and running out of clean handkerchiefs to wipe his sweaty brow – hiking across the Wilds by the sturdy pace of dwarves was tiring work.  

“As it soon turned out, he learned that he should have been worried from the start. There is a reason why the lands outside the border are called the Wilds, for wild they are. The little hobbit and his new friends were nearly eaten by trolls, and not too long after getting out of that mess, thanks to the wizard, they were nearly eaten again, this time by goblins. The hobbit managed to get away, only to find a loathsome creature who called himself Gollum, and this creature too wanted to eat the little hobbit. He managed to get away again and found his way out of the mountains, only to bring the goblins with their ravaging wolves after him and his friends, and the wolves too thought them to be quite tasty-looking.  

“Just when they thought they were safe, they found themselves lost in a long dark forest, surrounded by spiders who, as you must be able to guess by now, would have loved to eat them all up. Well, the hobbit by this point got quite tired of everything thinking that he was nothing more than a dainty morsel and he dealt the spiders some deadly blows with his sword. He managed to save his friends, and find some wits he didn’t know he had in the process, but they were no sooner safe from the spiders than the dwarves were captured by the elves, who, fortunately, were not in the habit of eating hobbits or dwarves.  

“Now the hobbit was all alone to again think of a way to save his friends, but he was quite out of ideas. For many days, he lingered, hidden, in the home of the elves, watching them and listening to them when he wasn’t crouching in a closet to escape detection. Finally, he came upon a plan – he would send the dwarves down the river in barrels! It was a grand plan and worked marvelously, except that there was no one to put the hobbit in a barrel, and so he had to cling to a dwarf-filled barrel for dear life, for he was not a swimmer and would have easily drowned had he let go.  

“At long last they were safe and sound in Lake Town, and the hobbit had forgotten all about the dragon and the gold, for all his other adventures had quite dashed their destination from his head. He was quite done with adventuring and wanted to go home. But before he could find himself a decent walking stick, the dwarves were taking him to the mountain to steal the gold from the dragon’s den.  

“By this point, he had seen enough and done enough to know exactly what to do. They reached the mountain and sent him inside. He trotted down the tunnel and into the dragon’s lair, where he found the giant worm sleeping on a large pile of gold, jewels and other treasures. He snatched a golden cup and took it to his friends waiting outside. They were not impressed with this and sent the hobbit back inside to steal more. So in the hobbit went again, down the long tunnel, only when he arrived at the lair a second time, the dragon was awake and waiting for him. The hobbit was able to confuse the dragon with riddles at first, but dragons are quite clever creatures and will figure out any riddle given enough time. When the dragon tired of the game, he roared fire at the hobbit, who just managed to escape the tunnel before he could be burnt, though the hair on his feet and the back of his head was singed - a most unfortunate outcome, but not so bad as it could have been.  

“Not long after this, the dragon flew out of the mountain and swooped around it several times, looking for the hobbit and dwarves, who were now hiding inside the tunnel. Thinking them gone, the dragon flew out towards Lake Town, where he was shot down by an archer and killed. The dragon slain, the hobbit no longer needed to steal the gold, much to his relief, but the dwarves rewarded him for his efforts anyway, and he left them celebrated as a hero.”

Bilbo finished his tale with a bow and his audience clapped, though Pippin looked confused. 

“Of course, the real tale was not nearly so cheerful,” Bilbo went on. “I was frightened much of the time, and I would not have been surprised if I had fainted halfway down the tunnel to the dragon’s lair. But I had been schooled up a bit by then, and my Tookish luck saw me through. I needed everyone ounce of luck I could get. That, and good and loyal friends who would not let me go into danger alone.” Here he smiled proudly at Frodo and his friends.

“An impressive tale, though I think I prefer the real version,” Boromir said.

Legolas nodded. “Yes, truly impressive. Stealing gold from under a dragon’s nose is no small task. You may not have slain the dragon yourself, but your valor cannot be doubted.” And he realized then that the hobbits would be able to protect themselves, if they shared even a tenth of the same courage, and luck, as Bilbo had. It was a reassuring revelation.

“That’s not how I remember the tale,” Pippin said suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “The way I heard it, you conked the dragon over the head with an oil lamp. Then you put all the gold and jewels into two large sacks that you carried on your back all the way to Lake Town. That’s where the dragon caught up with you, and you took the bow and arrow from the archer and shot the dragon down yourself.”

Next to him, Merry snickered and only managed with great effort to say, “Pippin, I just made that up so I could watch you try to convince everyone else that’s how the story went.”

“But Everard and Cedric agreed with me,” Pippin declared.

“Of course they did. I told them to. Cost me a copper apiece,” Merry explained.

“But,” Pippin stammered and looked crestfallen at Frodo then Bilbo. “But, you shot the dragon down. Not since the Bullroarer knocked the goblin king’s head off his shoulders and into a rabbit hole did a hobbit manage such an exceptional and lucky shot.”

“Sorry, lad, but I was nowhere near the dragon when he was slain,” Bilbo said gently.

“So… what about the Battle of Five Armies? Did you at least stop that?” Pippin asked.

“Even I don’t have enough luck in me to stop a war, though I tried my best to keep it from happening,” Bilbo said. “My efforts were in vain, I’m afraid. Big Folk are quite fond of their fighting.”

“I guess it would be silly to believe you stopped the fighting by offering to make everyone tea and crumpets,” Pippin admitted sheepishly, though that certainly would have stopped him from fighting with somebody. Beside him, Merry was doubled over with laughter, tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks. Frodo and Sam did their best not to laugh but they couldn’t stop their shoulders from shaking. Everyone else chuckled supportively.

“So, Merry, you are a story-teller as well?” Lindir said. “Will you tell us a tale then?”

“All right,” Merry agreed, sobering and wiping tears from his eyes. He thought for a moment, trying to think of a good story to follow Bilbo’s. He needed a story about a dangerous creature and an unsuccessful mission. “This tale is about my father and Frodo's mother, and I only managed to wrangle the full tale out of him this past year. It’s a true story, though it’s not one that is often told. I doubt even Frodo has ever heard it.

Frodo quirked his eyebrows at this and settled in to listen. Merry took Bilbo’s spot in the center of the circle and looked up at his waiting audience.

“There once was a hobbit whose favorite older cousin was getting married, and he wanted more than anything to get her gift…”*

And so Legolas learned his fourth major lesson that night. While Elves wrote the most lyrical and melancholy songs and lays, there was no one better than a hobbit for a tall tale.
 
 
 

To be continued…
 
 

GF 3/24/07
 

* - SSP: For the full tale, see “How to Cook a Goose”.