Finally - apologies for the long delay. The Muse returned from a very long holiday!

The celebrations in the Shire had settled down. The hobbits were filling up the corners after supper and confining their strenuous activity to toasting the King's health. Children drowsed on laps and Rufus patrolled the tables, scrounging scraps which he shared with his mother and Sooty.

       A sudden crackle in the air and a spray of light made everyone jump.

       "A shooting star!"

       "It's going up, not down."

       "Gandalf! He's giving Aragorn a firework display in his own way." Frodo laughed as another gold and silver torrent curved up from the West.

       Small hobbits woke and raced to see the lights, oohing and aaahing at each one. Fragments of a silver sword melded together to gradually became a whole one. A ring with two serpents and golden flowers followed, then a leafless tree which slowly came to life with silver leaves and huge blossoms unfurling. Seven great stars curved over the tree and above these appeared a winged crown.

       In the Courtyard of the Fountain the assembled guests cheered and applauded. Azarafti was dazed; even the Wise themselves paid tribute to this king, and apparently these star pictures came from the great Incanus himself. He looked down at his children, who were wide-eyed and open-mouthed. His eldest son stood between Crown Prince Eldarion and Lord Elboron, all watching intently. This was no natural event - each picture was clearly a representation of some important element of the King's life.

       "Thank you, Gandalf my dear friend," the King murmured. "I am honoured that you do this."

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        On the day after 'the Birthday' the King spent some time at his desk but by noon he was free to join everyone for luncheon, and afterwards they all made their way outside to sit in his new Shire garden. Arwen's ladies had been given the day off and the hobbit lasses were acting in their stead, together with Lothiriel and Eowyn.

       Arwen sat with her embroidery frame before her, the other ladies worked on their sewing or crochet and lace-work, and Araminta took out her watercolour paints. Like all the Goolds she was artistic; Merry had inherited his talent from his grandmother Menegilda. She tried to capture the scene before her, while Blossom marvelled at the sight of so many Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits and Men sprawled beneath the young saplings.

       Glorfindel lounged comfortably on the grass. Little Torni slept on the Elf's chest, his fingers gripping the fine velvet robes. Freddy was snuggled with Erithain and little Eowyn had claimed Legolas. The Balrog-slayer and the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen exchanged a glance and a grin as they observed King Thranduil. The Elven King was leaning back against one of the young birch saplings and looked very relaxed. Legolas was astonished to see that a tiny hobbit baby was cradled against his father's shoulder.

       Thranduil noted his son's surprise. "It is long since I held such a young one, and she asked to come to me."

       "She did," agreed Araminta. "Waved her arms and squawled until Lord Thranduil took her, then she quieted at once and fell asleep. That's quite a gift, my lord."

       "I thought I might have lost it after so long. My youngest son could be noisy at times." He twinkled at Legolas, who snorted.

       "Still is!" Gimli muttered teasingly.

       Glorfindel laughed. "Not so much time has passed since I held a child." He glanced at Aragorn. "I believe it is just less than one hundred years, is it not, Estel?"

       "Oh dear. Don't tell me you're going to relate embarrassing tales of my childhood? We'll be here for a month!"

       Gloin puffed on his pipe. "My son had the strongest pair of lungs in Erebor. Smaug could not have made more noise."

       "Nothing changes," Legolas quipped, ducking Gimli's half-hearted swat.

       "You should have heard my sister - when she was born in Edoras the people of the Westfold knew about it instantly!" Eomer darted a glance at Eowyn, who laughed and stuck her tongue out.

       Blossom sat listening to the exchanges, giggling quietly as she worked. She was busy doing some very fine crochet-work, making a delicate shawl as a gift for the Queen. The market places and shops had such a wealth and variety of materials, threads, colours and decorations that she found it difficult to choose, but had finally selected a rich purple. Arwen had admired the colour, although she had no idea she was to be the recipient, and Blossom was delighted. She thought about the shops and markets, so full of noise and bustle. Six months ago she would have fled in terror from crowds of Big People, and she was surprised at how much she now enjoyed browsing the shops and examining the silks and threads and other merchandise. She had never imagined there were so many items to be purchased.

       "Did I hear you say 'fire-spraying machine?" Aragorn asked Gimli suddenly.

       "My own invention," the Dwarf replied proudly.

       "What does it look like, and where are you planning to use it?" Erithain enquired, sounding genuinely interested.

       Gimli smiled. "It's a box, on wheels, full of oil, with a sort of bellows attachment and a pipe where the oil comes out and is set on fire. We're going to re-take Moria, laddie!"

       "What!?"

       "I reason thus: the West Gate is still blocked. We have a watch on the East Gate and we know the orcs have not emerged. Lord Gwaihir and his people have confirmed this. The orcs have to eat something, so presumably they're ............." He tailed off in deference to the presence of ladies.

       "Eating each other?" said Arwen brightly.

       "Aye. So hopefully their numbers must have reduced. The flames from my machine will bring them down from the walls - and fry the foul little........creatures in the process!"

       "I think my son wishes to begin this enterprise so that I may see our people in possession of Moria before I die," Gloin remarked. "I am hale but old, and I have long wished to see Dwarves in the halls of Khazad-dum."

       "Then the Rohirrim will help in any way we can." Eomer was almost on his feet, eager to begin.

       "We're not going right now, laddie," Gimli said, his eyes twinkling.

       Eowyn broke the thread with an audible snap and looked up, her eyes sparkling.. "I believe my brother regards it as his duty to kill every last Orc in Middle-earth."

      "Are you saying it isn't?" he enquired, looking puzzled and slightly shocked.

      Tarondor glanced at his Chieftain and King for confirmation. "I believe the Rangers of the North will wish to help in this enterprise."

       "The bows of the Greenwood are yours in this cause," said Thranduil quietly. Gloin leaned over and clasped the Elf-king's hand.

       "We in Imladris offer our aid also." Glorfindel smiled at Gimli.

       Brand looked thoughtful. "I'm sure some hobbit bows would not come amiss either."

       "I'm sure the Men of Gondor and Ithilien would also wish to offer whatever help you need," murmured Aragorn. "But one thing I would insist on for all who go into Moria. Armour will be worn by everyone - Elf, Dwarf, Man and Hobbit. The orcs of Moria may be reduced in number but one arrow may kill a man and I would not see a single life lost, even in so noble a cause."

       Everyone nodded. The King spoke wisely. It was known that the orcs smeared poison on their arrows.

       "It will need to be a well-planned operation." Faramir said.

       "Don't fear, it will be. We have some plans of Moria and I have added what I learned while we were there. I very much doubt the orcs have repaired the bridge so we will take rope bridges with us. Lord Gwaihir has also promised aid should we need it."

       "Can we come too?" Dirhael turned to his father, who looked somewhat alarmed. "We'll be careful. We just want the chance to help Lord Gimli and his people."

       "And we'd like to fight while there's still some orcs left," added Hallas.

       Erithain smiled grimly. "Only if I come with you."

       "I can hardly wait," said Eomer eagerly, rubbing his hands. "The thought of them still skulking in there burns within me. I shall enjoy rooting out every last one."

       "Just one thing," murmured Gimli, grinning. "You'll have to leave your horse outside!"

       Servants working all over the Citadel heard the eruption of laughter from the gardens.

                                                                          ************

       Nibs remembered that he had a gift from Rose for Lord Azarafti and after tea he decided he would deliver it. Legolas, Gimli and Isumbrand expressed a wish to accompany him down to the Fifth Level and Blossom was happy to go too. She was curious to see the inside of a house in Gondor, particularly a house belonging to someone from such a different culture.

       Two guards followed at a discreet distance. It was known that the King loved the Pheriannath and there were always a few disaffected people who might attempt a kidnap to exert pressure upon the King or even simply cause him grief. The Umbarians were still defiant although their fleet had been totally destroyed, and Aragorn did not trust them at all. Legolas carried his knives and Gimli never went anywhere without his throwing axes.

       Azarafti was delighted to see them and welcomed them inside. Blossom was surprised to see low couches and huge cushions spread on the floor. Brand, ever the adventurous Took, was eager to try one of the cushions and flopped down. Blossom and Nibs sat together on one of the couches. Lady Yashimi ordered coffee, fruit juice and sweetmeats to be brought.

       "So my friends, what brings you here? We are delighted to welcome you to our home."

       "Thank you, my lord. My sister Rose asked me to give you this." Nibs handed over a wooden box.

       Curious, Azarafti opened the lid. Inside was a folded sheet of fine notepaper and underneath that were six large jars. He drew one out and looked at the rich red substance inside and the beautiful script on the label which said: Spiced Tomato Chutney. Halimath 1430 SR .      

       "The King told Rose how much you enjoyed it when it was served at a banquet so she thought you'd best have some for yourself."

       "I am overwhelmed at the Lady Rose's generosity. She does not even know me and yet she would send a gift?"

       "We're hobbits, we enjoy giving presents. She was delighted to hear how much you liked her chutney. She used to make it plain but about four years ago the King sent some little red things - chillis I think they were called - to the Shire and Rose tried a small amount in her usual chutney. Don't half give it a kick, if I may say so!" Nibs laughed and so did everyone else.

       Azarafti unfolded the letter and read the neat rounded hand of Rose Gamgee.

Dear Lord Azarafti,

I hope I got that right - I have copied it from our King's letter so it should be.

I have heard that you like the chutney so I thought you might welcome half a dozen jars, which should last a while. Some people find it a bit too hot but the Lord Elessar tells me you are used to highly spiced food in your land. I never thought I'd take to it but after we ate it on our visit to Gondor I've discovered some very useful combinations. I tend to try different spices in Shire recipes but I reckon the recipes from Harad would be really interesting.

I wish good health to you and your family.

Respectfully,

Rose Gamgee.

       "What a magnificent gesture! How kind of her." He examined the letter and then looked again at the label on the jar. "The writing on the letter does not look the same as that on the labels."

       Nibs peered at the jar. "No, that's Mr Frodo's writing. He usually does the labels when Rose is doing preserves."

       "This is the Ring-bearer's hand?" Azarafti looked at the jar in some awe.

       Brand smiled fondly. "Frodo enjoys helping in the kitchen. Most hobbits do, and Rose has cared for him devotedly. They are like brother and sister."

       "So Lady Rose would like to try some of our recipes? I'm sure I can find a book to send to her, and some of our spices. I shall look into the matter at once."

        "Well that is very kind of you, my lord. Rose will be very honoured I'm sure."

       "I am still wondering what I can send to the Ring-bearers. Weapons will not do in their case. Lord Samwise is a gardener, is he not?"

       "The finest in Middle-earth," said Legolas with a smile.

       "I wonder if he would like a fig tree. One of the hardy ones might grow in a sheltered spot."

       "What is a fig tree?" Blossom asked.

       "You are enjoying those fruits, Mistress Blossom?"

       Blossom looked at the fruit in her hand. "They're lovely. I've never tasted anything quite like it."

       "That is a fig. If Lord Samwise can grow it until it is large enough to produce fruit then you can eat them more often." Azarafti sipped his juice. "The Lord Frodo is something of a puzzle to me - what can I send to him? What would he think a suitable gift? What is he like?"

       Brand thought for a moment. "Frodo loves books - poems, tales - and he has a great love and compassion for all living things. He will carry an ant or a spider outside rather than step on it. He is gentle, witty, intelligent and wiser than anyone else I know."

       "I will think on what you have said, Master Brand. I should like to find something which he would appreciate fully."

       "I believe we met your brother the other day, my lord. Our King directed us to a very fine shop on the Third Level and told us about the man who owns it. I remember Pippin and the others talking about meeting some of your people in Ithilien after the War." Brand selected another honey cake and settled back on his cushion.

       "Yes, Shefir is my brother. I thought him lost in the Dark Tower until I came to this city four years after the Eater of Souls was overthrown and discovered my little brother alive and well and the father of a healthy son. Our old rulers would not have welcomed the survivors back, you see. They would have called them traitors and had them executed."

       Nibs processed this information with difficulty. He found such reasoning very hard to follow. Blossom was also finding it difficult to understand.

       Azarafti chuckled. "It is a great pity that more people do not possess the common sense of hobbits, my friends. The world would be a better and safer place if they did."

       Gimli leaned forward. "Are ye sure you've met Peregrin?"

       The room exploded into loud laughter.