Legolas ran forward, skipping with delight.  
 
Trees!  Lots of trees!  He had not seen so many trees since leaving Mirkwood.  There were green trees, brown trees, bare trees, tall skinny trees, short twisted trees, even trees with tinsel and coloured globes hanging on them, from elves too lazy to take down their christmas trees.
 
'This is much better than a dusty ol' Dwarvish mine full of boogie-men and barristers!' he thought happily.  He could not be dissuaded from running forward and hugging the nearest tree.....

From behind a beech, 20 feet further into the wood, Haldir saw his fellow elf tree-hugging and squirmed in embarrasment "Oh my God, and in full view of those idiots too."
 
Arching an aristocratic eyebrow at his cousin Rumil he added "I don't know what's worse, having to live down being vaguely akin to that idiot, Aragorn's smell or that dwarf's breath."  
 
Rumil tittered and then strung his bow in one elegant movement. "Cuz, what are those little things with Gormless son of Thornbush, presents for the Lady? She has enough lawn ornaments already, even if these do move by themselves."
 
Across the path Rumli (Rumil's twin) hissed "Quieten down they're getting cløser."
 
Legolas joyfully hugged each tree they past, until his cheeks were smudged with tree-sap and there were bits of bark, leaves, and catapillars in his hair.  He couldn't care less... he was in ecstacy.
 
"Hey, guys!  I remember hearing about a little creek around here called Nimrodel.  It's named after some Elven-lass... there's a song.  D'ya wanna hear it?"
 
Without invitation, Legolas launched into his song:
 
Of Nimrodel, Elves frequently sing  
A maid who's kiss made Amroth's ears ring  
When he asked her to take ship  
She gave him the slip  
And ran off to go do her own thing!  
 
But that's not the end of our hymn  
As the boat headed west, a thought came to him  
'I'll walk back to shore  
And ask her once more.'  
I guess he forgot that he couldn't swim!
 
"There's a dance, too..." And Legolas demonstrated....

Well, when with Elves, do as the Elves do... thought Frodo.  As he had promised Bilbo he would try to learn as much as he could in imitation of the grace and learning of the Eldar, he walked up to the tree next to Legolas' and tried his best to stretch his short arms around it to no avail. He stood on his tiptoes trying to reach a thinner portion of trunk but it made little difference.
 
"I really can't see what the attraction is," he muttered, after pressing himself into the bark until he had little bark-lines on his face.  "It's not like they're fruit-trees or anything..." His stomach growled.  
 
He turned from the tree to find Legolas singing and capering about on the greensward -  inwardly he stifled a groan then gritted his teeth and gave it his best shot in mangled Elvish:  
 
"There was an Inn, a jolly old Inn
Beneath the trees so green,
And there was ale and chicken pie,
The veggies all a-steam..."
 
He cut a shortened version of the caper beside his Elven tutor and hoped the Elvish lesson would stop soon.

At the sight of their Mirkwood-elf kin cavorting with a furry lawn ornament on the grass beneath the trees, Haldir, Rumil, Orophin and Rumli legged it back another 50 feet or so.  
 
The twins had their quivers clenched in their teeth to stop themselves from laughing out loud, while Orophin had turned bright red as tears streamed from his eyes.
 
Once safely far enough away that they could let it all out ... {long, loud sound FX}
 
Ten minutes later, having wiped the tears from their eyes, they checked each others hairbraids and make-up before slipping silently back to the forest edge to watch the Fellowship's progress.

Soon Merry had joined the cavorting Legolas and Frodo for he thought what they were doing looked like fun considering what they had just left behind in the Mall of Moria.
 
Then he decided to show off a bit by adding in some spectacular backflips and cartwheels to the dance steps something he had wanted to try back when he and Pippin had been dancing on the table at the Green Dragon.'

Legolas nodded as he watched the hobbits dancing.  "Very good!  That is enough for now, my halfling friends.  In my land we have tales about the Elves that live in these woods, and they are a sober and uptight lot, it is said.   Oh, they are friendly enough... so long as you obey the dress code.
 
"Did everyone bring a dinner-jacket?"

Right in the middle of a cartwheel when Legolas said it was enough, Pippindin ended up doing something like a roundoff that was not the most graceful.  
 
"What's a dinner-jacket?" Pippin piped up.

Sam was both excited and relieved- excited at the prospect of meeting more Elves- even sober and uptight Elves-and relieved that the hobbit-and-elf-capering had stopped before he was obliged to join in. The only dance move Sam knew was the Mashed 'Tater and that would have looked a bit awkward with all those backflips and cartwheels and tree-hugging. He didn't know what a dinner jacket was either, but he hoped it wasn't much different than the jacket he had on.

Frodo considered his jacket, which had gotten a bit worn and gamy over the miles.  It certainly had the lingering evidence of many a dinner dotted here and there...
 
"Sure, I have a dinner-jacket, I think..." he said then his eyes brightened hopefully.  "Does that mean there will be dinner?"  The 'sober' part didn't sound too promising, but it could be made up for if there was enough sherry-trifle and rum-balls...


Meanwhile, in the chamber just outside Galadriel's Dressing room there came a hissing groan from her Mirror.
 
"Sorry, m'lady" the mirror said.  "You should tell your husband not to bother with the staring contest with the lidless eye.  He cheats -- not that this comes as a surprise from the Dark Lord.  Whenever he feels the need to blink, he slips in here to wet his eye.  In honesty, I think he is just trying to catch a glimpse of you changing.  He was here a minute ago, so I poked him in the eye before you gave him a glimpse of the 'Elven Moon.'  "
 
"I should also let you know that  the party has just passed the woods; four hobbits, a dwarf, two men, and your screwball cousin from Mirkwood.  Haldir and the other elves will keep them busy, once they regain their composure.   Your cousin (the prince) is molesting your Mallorns with his interpretive dance, and encouraging the short ones to do the same."  
 
Aragorn, we know -- "not the sharpest knife in the drawer", but hopefully as fate has chosen him, he "won't end up being a spoon!"
 
The Four Hobbits of the Apocolypse seem harmless enough; quite small, but one of them (Frodo, I believe) carries something great with him, though I cannot see what.  His Kinsmen, Merry and Pippin, are just following him, nothing really going on inside their heads except "when's lunch?"    
 
The one called Sam. keeps wanting to see "Elfin Magic" -- that worried me at first, until I realised that to this simpleton, "elfin magic" is equal to "Keebler's Cookies."  Nothing  to concern ourselves with.  We should have some fun with him. When you mind speak him, call him 'muffin' and tell him he would look cute in nothing but 'Fudge Stripes' and I guarantee that he will blush right down to the hair on his toes!  You can even bring him by and let him take a look in me . . . we could have some serious fun messing with him.
 
That leaves us with the Dwarf and the Gondorian.  The dwarf is unusual.  Yes, he is in need of a bath, and that AXE is always a concern to those who love the woods.  But he may surprise us yet.  We shall see.
 
It is the Gondorian who frightens me most.  He doesn't like playing 'second Banana' to either Aragorn (who is his long lost king), or to Frodo (who is half his height).  What it is about Gondorian men and issues of 'Size' is beyond me . . . and I hope it STAYS that way.   But he wants the token carried by Frodo, and that can't be any good.  You will need to test him about it."
 
Enough for now. You are needed downstairs for some final primping and make-up.  Just because you live in the woods, doesn't mean your legs should look like a forest.  Off to your waxing!

Temperature in Lothlorien: 86 F.  Sunny, with a mild breeze from the NW at 7 leagues per hour.  Low tonight, 67.  This weather update brought to you by Radagast's --Makers of Brown Bomber Fleece --"it keeps you warm even near Wraiths."  Sold exclusively at our web-site -- mew.Rads-place.com.


Gimli awoke with a start from a very pleasant dream involving an attractive scruffy Dwarf-woman named Dominique.
 
"Hrmgrmmgrhuh?" he said eloquently.  
 
"What'd I miss? What is that Elf doing, nancing about again?" He rubbed his eyes.
 
"And why are there suddenly six of him?"


Meanwhile, on the road between Moria and Lorien, a small, wretched creature howled in anger . . . .
 
"Curssssse them, We HATESssssss THEM!!!"
But the scream came from a smaller and more wretched creature than Gollum . . .
 
Tiffany, the Aphid Queen climbed out from under the lougie that Aragorn had just spit out, greatful to be alive and unswallowed, but still covered with dirt and slime.  She took a moment to clean her tiny tiara, glaring at the receeding  
 
"Every time I escape them, they find me again!!!  They are like emails selling viagra -- I'm an Aphid Queen for Valar's sake, what would I do with Viagra!  But these creatures are the worst.  I thought I had plotted my revenge with Larry the Leviathon.  But they escaped through that cursed small door, leaving me to be suckked down below the waves.  I escape that, and start heading to my trailor and 'WHAM!' that big lug opens his mouth without thinking, catches me in a sudden uptake of breath, and then spits me out again.  I CAN'T TAKE IT ANY MORE.  
 
No, this is what got me in trouble the last time.  I am not going after them again.  But, here come some lawyers, perhaps I should give them a deposition and let them follow them to the elven woods.  A few orcs and lawyers (now isn't that redundant??) ought to get my point across, and I won't have to be in danger of another great updraft."
 
And so, as the lawyers from Moria wandered in pursuit of the hobbits, Tiffany made a phone call to 1-800-4-A-Shylok, and after assuring them that there had been no automobile in the shot, gave them the whereabouts of the Hobbit Party and their trail to Lothlorien.
 
As the lawyers streamed by, they were chanting, "For folks who Spit, we won't acquit!"

Back in Lorien...

Suddenly there was heard by all this loud gurgling sound that sounded like a garbage disposal with indigestion. After it was repeated even louder a second time Merry's face turned a beet red for it was his empty belly that was rumbling and he tried now to appear to not know where that noise was coming from.
 
"I hope we get a move on soon," he whispered out of the side of his mouth to Pippin. "I'm starving!!!"

Aragorn's Ranger Sense was tingling again. He scratched it discreetly until it stopped, but took it as a warning that they really ought to get away from the path and out of sight.
 
"This way - we need to hide, remember? Legolas, get those silly leaves out of your hair and stop spinning that hobbit.  Gimli! Stop trying to trip him.  Boromir, help me out here, grab a hobbit or something. Frodo, quit spacing out and looking mournful - let's see if we can find our way through these woods here. There's an Elven town of sorts further in...someplace... I'm pretty sure I can find it....maybe.... I remember it had lots of trees all around it anyway."
 
He began to lead the group deeper into the gold and silver woods, hoping for some sort of sign...

Sam started to comment on Merry's growling belly, and then gasped as an assortment of jackets in every state of wear and design was tossed at him to repair and freshen up for the expected dinner feast with the Elves. Gimli's was especially painful because of the ornamental non-mithril plating that impressed the ladies so much at home.
"But if I don't have time to fix my jacket," he said in his best Cinderella voice to their retreating backs, "I won't be able to go to the Elvish Ball!"
Then he saw a sign. "Aragorn, look! That sign says TEN MILES TO LORIEN, ALSO KNOWN AS GALA-WOOD."

Frodo stopped being silently emotive long enough to take a look at the crooked sign that was sticking out of the heaps of old fallen leaves.  "Gala-wood?" he mused. "Isn't that that place that was always advertising cheap furniture back home...? No, it couldn't be. I'm sure Elves didn't manufacture that horrid pressed-sawdust stuff.  And why is the paint on it still wet?" 

Boromir stood disdainfully aside as the hobbits and the dwarf and the Ranger scrambled about looking for suitable duds.    
 
Then while they were all dressing, and trying to tie each others' tie, he opened the secret door of the secret closet that he knew secretly was in the largest Mallorn tree.
 
Good ol' Marty Feldman had not let him down.  There, hanging in pristine purity was an Armani dinner jacket and trousers, with starched white shirt and nicely pressed black tie to boot.   And no boots, but patent leather shoes so polished they dazzled his eyes.   AND a shaving mirror and a Mach three electric razor.
 
Boromir snagged all these goodies and ducked behind a tree and swiftly stripped to his gonchies.  He thought he heard giggling but saw no one.   Within moments he was swell-ly dressed, actually looking astonishingly studly and fine and he grinned at his noble visage in the shaving mirror.   Then he nicked himself with the razor and little drops of blood went trickling down his manly chin onto the snowy starched front of his dress shirt.
 
He uttered several manly expletives and tried to dab the blood away and succeeded only in smearing it about and so he cussed again.
 
Now what?   Jeez.  He fumbled around in his pack and found a waistcoat with parrots embroidered on it and thought it might do to cover up the bloodstains on his shirt.    
 
He put the vest on and then the dinner jacket and preened a bit, twirling lightly.  He remembered with pride the magnificent leap he had made outside Moria when he had seized Frodo from Larry the Leviathan.  He essayed a piroutte, then an entrechat.
 
Giggling?  What WAS that giggling?  He almost thought........he felt as though there might be security cameras in these peculiar trees...........

By now Haldir and the others were fit to burst, the dancing, showering the fat little one with mending, the Gondorian's boxers and the incident with the waistcoat.  Oh it was too much! In a last bid to stop a give-away guffaw they'd all stuffed cloaks in their mouths, having tried everything else: hairbraids, wrist-guards, bows, even their quivers, all had not been able to stop them giggling at the scenes on the ground beneath their trees.

"Merry,"  Pippin whispered, "do you hear that?  I swear there is someone in the trees giggling!  And I have this eerie feeling we are being watched from every direction!  These woods give me the heebeegeebees!!!  Stay close!  Please!"

Legolas waved away Pippin's comment with a graceful flick of his hands.
 
"Relax!  You are accompanied by a skillful wood-elf who is sharp of eye and ear!  I tell you, we are completely alone here!  Don't you think that, if there were anyone nearby, I would have seen them by now?
 
"Trust me," Legolas said as he leaned nonchalantly against a slender sapling that just happened to be one of Haldir's brothers.

Gal looked at her mirror somewhat indignantly. "My legs do NOT look like a forest..." she began defensively, then glanced at them again and frowned in disgust. "Ok, maybe they do." She rolled her eyes at the water. "I hate it when you're right."
As she got out her waxing stuff ("Wax of Lorien! The most beautiful legs for the most beautiful Elves"), she chatted with the mirror some more. "Sometimes I swear you're pure evil, if it weren't for the fact that you hate Sauron as much as I do..." she said in a joking manner. "What a group of idiots. I will have to have a talk with Legolas about violating my forest. I always did wonder about him. And Sam... We really could have fun with him..." Her eyes took on a rather alarming glint. Had her husband been there, he certainly would have been worried...But Gal swore she could hear the mirror chuckling along with her.

Now Legolas had leaned on Rumli, this was too much for him "Høø, høø, høø" burst out as he gracefully collapsed into a drift of leaves. Luckily nobody noticed as they were now all staring into the surrounding trees in as paranoia started gripping them.
 
Seizing his moment before everyone else gave themselves away Haldir, now decked out in his best Mâitre D tux, stepped from behind a tree, thwacked Legolas none too gently with a menu, and caught everyone's attention in the ancient manner of the Lorien elves (speaking with a very posh accent): "That dwarf's breath is so bad we could have shot him in the dark!"
 
From trees on either side Rumil and Orophin stepped out, smiling widely, with their bows drawn. Was that a steely glint in their eye, or just moisture from too much giggling ... ?

Now Merry nearly jumped out of his skin when he suddenly found the Hobbit skewering end of an arrow pointed at him!!!
 
Then his face became beet red as his stomach let out again another loud rumble as it protested its emptiness the sound of which echoing around the Fellowship and Lothlorien Elves that had suddenly joined them.
 
"Soon, my friend I'll get you soemthing from the menu," Merry whispered to it while he patted it.

A pile of leaves beside Legolas stirred and in a trice became another well dressed elf with a loaded bow.  
 
Rumli indicating Merry with his finely honed eyebrows asked his brother "Did that little øne just say sømething in Entish?"

The water in Galadriel's Mirror rippled with laugter at the thoughts coming from the Elven Queen.  
 
"Well, my queen, if you really want to mess with the hobbit, you could . . . hold on, I'm getting something from the glade.  
Blood has been spilt on your land!  Something has gotten out of . . . wait, no.  Everything is all right.  I feared that one of those keystone cops Haldir has in his party had gotten a bit antsy with the arrows.  Turns out that the Gondorian can't seem to shave himself with an ELECTRIC Razor.  Now what kind of an idiot does it take to do that?!  Honestly -- IT HAS A SCREEN to guard from cutting oneself.  
 
Unless, of course, he was dumb enough to think that he should be shaking his face at the same speed the blades vibrate.  But even Aragorn isn't THAT stupid.  I tell you, m'lady.  Be wary of the man from Gondor.  
 
Now, where was I . . .  Oh, fishcakes.  I forgot what I was going to tell you.
 
The water seethed and started to turn cloudy in irritation.

Gimli looked around at the variety of Elves around him, immensely confused.
 
"So Elves do spring out of holes in the ground, like my grandmother told me!"  
 
He turned to Haldir and nudged him. "So is it also true that there are no Elf-women? Because in that case we may have to warn the Ranger about a little something."
 
He chuckled heartily to himself before looking back at Haldir with a frown.  
 
"I told you that you shouldn't be nancing so much, Legolas! Now look what happened, your face's gone all chubby!"

Was that dwarf addressing him! Haldir shuddered, got a grip ,drew himself up to the full height of his cuban heels and replied in chilling tones.
 
"Your party seems a little short. The reservation made was for 9 in the name of Mithrandir. We've heard he's been losing it of late, hanging out with any old half-being, but has he managed to lose you all this time?"

"Hey!" protested Frodo, "We're called hobbits, not shorts and certainly not half-beings...watch where you point that thing... and (here his lip quivered and his soulfully large and expressive blue eyes filled with tears)...we *sniffle* lost our wizard.... *sniffle*..... "

Galadriel's Mirror sent her a quick update:
 
This just in, m'lady -- the King of the Golden Woods seems to have slipped into one of his narcoleptic naps.  Unless you want to do the spell to wake him (and where we would find three blushing aphids this time of year . . .) you had better finish waxing those legs and get out to greet the folks soon.

"Now look here, " said Aragorn, striding forward. "These short guys are all part and parcel with our party, and speaking of parties, we're being pursued by some pretty putrid ones from our recent past, so if you could just step aside, we'd like to move a little deeper into this wood here, comprehende, amigo?  I promise on my honor as a Ranger that we won't pick any of the flowers or carve our initials on any more trees if you'll just let us pass."

At Aragorn's words, Boromir quickly slid his Swiss Army knife back into the pocket of his dinner jacket.  He had intended to carve the initials "B s. o. D" (Boromir son of Denethor) into the smooth grey bark of a Mallorn, but he realized now that would be a pretty big faux pas.
 
Up until now he hadn't really paid much attention to the Elves surrounding them.   But he began to do so as he looked about.  They were sharp dressers, that was the first think he noticed.  And tall.  And good looking.  Just.....like.....him!!!   Just like Boromir!!!!   Maybe the old stories were true, that the House of Ecthelion had Elven blood!!!!   Wow.  Boromir went all over funny, thinking how cool it would be to have those pointy ears and long, flowing blond hair.
 
He tossed his head as he saw the Elf named Haldir do.   A kind of nonchalant twitch, elegant and sophisticated all at once.
 
What a sap Boromir can be at times!!!  His elegant and sophisticated twitch made him look like a guy with cooties.  
 
The Elves moved discreetly away from him, looking askance at each other..............

Frodo looked up at Boromir, who was slipping a knife into his pocket and twitching.  He pursed his lips, then politely addressed the Elf who was pointing his arrow at him.
 
"Um, excuse me... Mr. Elf?  If you don't mind just sort of moving your arrow along with me, I'm going to be sort of sidling a bit to the left now. Okay...?"  Seeing no refusal (or understanding of what he had said), he began sidling away from the Gondorian and back towards Aragorn.

Orophin had meant to be looking stern, and sharply dressed as he stared down his arrow at the Gondorian oaf and the halfthing in front of him.
 
But ...  
 
those deep blue eyes ... he felt like he was swimming in them ... as they gazed at him piteously ...  those deep blue eyes ...wow they were so blue ... he thought he heard as if from afar words spoken about moving his arrow ... as the eyes moved he moved with them ... they were so blue ... he felt like he was swimming in them 

Frodo kept sidling... the arrow moved along with him, which was truly disconcerting even though he himself had requested it.  To keep his mind off the imminent danger of being punctured, he kept his eyes on the Elf's face, only blinking when he had to.  sidle....sidle....sidle.... ooof.  He bumped up against someone - from the fishy scent, he guessed it was Aragorn.

Sam snapped his fingers in the Elf's face. "Don't be too entranced, beggin' your pardon sir, but Mr. Frodo's eyes are, ah, cosmetically enhanced, if you know what I mean. They're a bit too big for his head, if you know what I mean, and so that's why he's forever tearin' up even if he just says somethin' like, 'Aren't there any moon pies left?' It's also why he's always bumpin' into folks, and havin' to guess who they are by the smell. Though, come to think of it, that fishy smell is awfully strong, near as strong as it was when we were back in the cave with those lawyers..."

Gollum sniffed each armpit in succession.  
"Figures we brought Old Halibut Smell instead of Old Spice, precioussss," he muttered. "Must be more careful, or those Elvses will tie us up and do a maypole dance around us again...hissssssss."

Far away...

Bill the Pony, Swish-tail, Wise-nose, Sharp-ears, White-socks and Bumpkin stood around in a meadow wondering what had become of the hobbits, and trying to decide how they could get out of eating whatever the River-daughter had contrived for their supper that evening.
"I think we should cut our losses and head back to Bree," Bill suggested. "Last night I had colic so bad that I..."
Wise-nose whinnied. "Believe me, I know you did, I'm in the stall next to yours. That woman's cooking will be the death of us all."
The six ponies began making plans to escape.

Back in Lorien...

Aragorn felt a slight bump against his leg and looked away from the arrows that were pointing at him to find Frodo huddling there.  
 
"Now look - " he said to the Elves, "there's a whole band of creepy things coming after us, and you're just going to bring them down on your own head it you don't let us at least hide...and besides, I happen to know that the Lady of the Wood might be a bit upset if you were to shoot us, you get my meaning?" He winked several times, significantly. "Eh? Wink wink, nudge nudge? Especially since we have a certain attachment to her family, wink wink? And if that doesn't interest you, I can offer you some real fine fish-bait in exchange for a bit of passage..."

Just then during a lull in the conversation Merry's stomach emitted a very loud and drawn out gurgle that sounded like a plumbing system with indigestion.
Blushing Merry tried to pretend that the sound hadn't come from him while he began to inspect his fingernails.

"...and," continued the Ranger, "if you don't let us get these hobbits fed sometime soon, they'll start eating anything within reach... and I wouldn't put it past them to start chewing up your relatives here. Intenditisne?"

Frodo blinked at Sam, forgetting the arrows for a moment. "Too big for my head?" he asked incredulously. "I'll tell you who's too big for..." he was interrupted by an incredibly loud stomach-growl from Merry. It was echoed sympathetically by Pippin's stomach, and then his own.  
 
He reconsidered what Sam had said and turned back to the Elves, using everything in his power to sway them to their cause... He gazed at them imploringly, blinked slowly and tremulously, made Bambi-eyes and otherwise blazed blue at them for all he was worth.  He topped it off with a slight pathetic whimper to see if it would help.

Breathing deeply and entering his elven calm place Haldir was able to ignore the now deafening rumbles and keep his thoughts to himself about what the pushy ranger had said.
 
He snapped his fingers to get everyone's attention and then turning, began to mince away in an exaggerated fashion "Very well then walk this way!"
 
He called over his shoulder to his fellow guards (in order to stop them cracking up all over again) "Rumil, Orophin you stay here and make sure no uninvited guests try getting in. If there's more than five one of you come and find me, we'll take them to the Starlight Flet Lounge for drinks and canapes, so you can find me there while we sort out this dwarf problem. Rumli, you watch the dwarf."

Legolas looked at Haldir and shook his head.
 
"If I could walk that way, my father would have named me 'Lego-lass'!" he muttered in an aside to his companions.
 
Legolas then took up walking on the other side of Gimli, realizing that befriending the Dwarf would be a really good way to annoy Haldir, but spare himself getting peppered with arrows.

They all followed along after the Elves, some more reluctantly than others, until they were stopped at some trees that looked for all the world just like all the other trees that surrounded them except for the flimsy little rope ladders hanging down from them.  
 
Frodo stood at the bottom of this hugely tall piece of vegetation and looked up...and up...and up.... to the barely visible platform above their heads.  The flimsy little ladder swung slightly in the breeze, and he serverely doubted it would even hold the weight of a hobbit like him, much less their hefty Men and Dwarf.  It looked like balsa-wood and string...
 
"I hate heights...." he muttered. "How about we just dig some nice cozy holes here at the bottom, and you guys can go on up?"

Sam's stomach was relatively quieter than the others', mostly because that was where the last moon pie was, but he was plenty hungry, at least until he looked at those flimsy ladders. He swallowed hard, and his stomach rumbled nearly as loudly as Merry's had.
"Maybe they could just toss a couple of pasties and a pint down to us?" he suggested hopefully.

Now Merry looked at the flimsy rope ladder while his stomach let out another loud drawn out gurgle. This time he made no effort to pretend that it wasn't coming from him for he was so hungry that the wood rungs of the ladder suddenly began to look like breadsticks!  
"Sam do we have any butter?" he asked before he ran over and began to gnaw on one that was level with his mouth while drooling the whole time....

Aragorn rolled his eyes. Turning to their hosts he shrugged at them.  "See? I told you we needed to get these hobbits fed! Worse than teething toddlers when they get going."  
 
He reached into his pocket and rummaged for something to stick in Merry's mouth, lest the bottom rung be unusable. Finding a leftover glob of sushi, he pulled the hobbit away and popped it into his mouth, an action that occupied Merry's attention well enough to give them ample time to get everyone up a tree. 

Frodo was propelled up the ladder against his will by another member of the group, but his complaints turned to expectant gratitude as he emerged onto a flet that had a picnic basket at one end!  
 
"Food!" he cried, making the hobbits behind him pick up the pace.
 

Galadriel, having successfully made herself pretty (she thought) suddenly realized her guests had arrived, as she smelled the dwarf coming a long way off. "Cel! CEL!!" she called her husband. No answer. Gal hurried into Celeborn's chambers. "CEL!!" she shrieked when she realized he was asleep. "They're here!!"  
Cel mumbled something about potatoes and rolled over, snoring. Gal shook him by the shoulders, but to no avail.
"I thought you drank coffee this morning!" she said grumpily and stomped out of the room.

Aragorn shoved the hobbits up the ladder before they began to chew into the trees like beavers.  He had watched the borders of the Shire for enough years to have a healthy respect for what a hobbit's teeth could do to any inanimate object that they thougt might be edible, and it wouldn't do to upset their hosts by having their revered mallorns bearing bite-marks.
 
"Look here," he said to the wide-eyed Elves. "Whatever you have that's edible, it's probably not nearly enough. We've got FOUR hobbits here to feed! How about we just cut to the chase and you get us to that tree-city-thingummy that I know you're hiding in that forest someplace.  We need serious food here, not just your camping snacks."

The mirror Called out to its owner.
 
"Gal, forgive me for interrupting your stop through the forest, but aren't you forgetting something?"
 
She hated when she forgot things, and the fact that the mirror knew what it was only more annoying.  That was why the mirror used the sweet, light tone of voice.  For something so intelligent, it never seemed to realize that this tone annoyed the queen too . . .

Up on the flet, Frodo already had his head deep in the picnic basket snarfing like mad before the other hobbits could get it away from him.  He was dimly aware of various noises of protest coming from outside the wicker, but it was nicely diminished by the noise of his own chewing.  What should they protest about? After all, he had set aside one half-sandwich apiece for his relatives before diving into the rest.

Aragorn shoved the last hobbit up the ladder and began climbing himself.  Up above, he heard noises of protest, and a couple empty wrappers with what appeared to be Elf-Snaxx on them fluttered past his face.

Gimli planted his feet firmly apart and remained where he was. He had not forgotten the dazzling heights he had seen when he and Legolas had done the body-switchy-thingy, and he had still not recovered. He wasn't sure, since he could not see the top, but from what he could tell this tree was as tall, if not taller than the Elf.
 
Then the Dwarf remembered something his grandmother used to say to him: "when the Dwarf doesn't come to the rock, the rock must come to the Dwarf". For days he had sat around doing nothing until his fellow Dwarves started throwing rocks at him for being lazy, so he figured it worked.
 
"So," he said, "if the Dwarf can't come to the secret Elf-clubhouse, then the secret Elf-clubhouse must come to the Dwarf."
 
And with these words he raised his axe...

Seeing that Frodo had set aside a half sandwich for each of his relatives, but nothing for him, Sam pondered a serious career change for the umpteenth time since embarking on this clambake.  
Clambake...his stomach rumbled hungrily and he desperately clawed his way to the basket, and then gasped when a loud THUNK shook the tree.

The THUNK was severe enough to make Frodo pause mid-chew and pull his head out of the basket.  This was a tactical error on his part, as it gave access to the other hobbits, who were quick to take advantage of it, in spite of the dawning realization that the tree they were in might soon be taking up a new job as a horizontal bench.

Legolas's fair face faded to pale as he watched Gimli swing the axe.  From the time it took for the shining blade to move from the apex to the target, the Elf thought the following:
 
"I wonder if it is too late to take that job as cabin-boy aboard the Black Pearl."
 
then:
 
"I knew that there was a good reason I never travel with Dwarves."
 
and finally:
 
"This is REALLY going to annoy Haldir... I must remember to thank Gimli if we survive this."

Gal gritted her teeth in annoyance. She turned slowly around to face her mirror. "And *What* have I forgotten?" she asked, mimicking the mirror's over-sweet tone. She rarely ever forgot anything, and when she did, she never admitted it. It was bad for her perfect image... She looked at the mirror sweetly, but with an icy undertone, daring it to tell her she had goofed up in some way.

Well, Gal-Pal, (trying to thaw its surface from the chill tone of the elven queen).
 
I think you have forgotten the halfling tradition of giving gifts when parties are held.  Mathoms, I believe they are called.  Little Trinkets that you have on hand -- they don't mind 'regifting' at all.
 
Do you have something great already stashed away that I haven't seen? Or shall I fax an order to Charo's Tchotchkes and see what they have?  You can tell them it is an elvish custom to give them at parting . . . perhaps give them the notion that staying here will not be a long rest . . .  
 
The Mirror froze from the icy retort in the elf-queen's mind.   He decided to change the subject.
 
On another matter; you have a guest awaiting a meeting with you.  A miss Heather, Queen of the Fireflies, has come to discuss the poor treatment of her cousin Tiffany.  She seemed rather ablaze at the prospect of being asked to wait too long.  And with King Cel and his narcoleptic napping, I fear it must be you who speaks with her. . . 

Aragorn was a little over two-thirds of the way up the tree when it suddenly went THUNK, with a resounding reverb. He suddenly found it necessary to embrace the trunk in a very Elf-like manner, blinded as he was by a shower of dead leaves and picnic crumbs coming from above his head.

Meanwhile crazed with hunger (the half sandwich being just a crumb to him) Merry then quickly reached out to the nearest thing he could get his hands on which turn out to be Frodo's cloak and began to stuff it into his mouth. Then he chewed and drooled on it like a puppy while he wished he had some salt with him to put on this high fiber diet he was suddenly on. So preocuppied was he that he didn't notice the big THUNK that shook the tree.

Gal rubbed her hand over her eyes. She felt a definite headache coming on. "Look, can you just take care of those...'mothballs' or whatever they're called for the hobbits, there's a dear mirror." She paused for a moment in deep thought. "And what's all this about a firefly?"

The mirror rippled with joy.  He LOVED it when the queen left HIM in charge.  
 
"Don't worry about it, m'lady.  I will see that the MATHOMS are taken care of.  As well as the situation with Queen Heather . . . "

Had her hand not been covering her eyes, Galadriel would have seen a flash of mischief ripple across the mirror . . .

A second THUNK shook the flet, and Frodo stood up, seeking some sort of knothole or birdnest that he could try to take cover in, but was half-throttled by the unexpected weight of his cousin Merry on his cloak and staggered sideways instead...
 
Right though the entry hole.

Aragorn's view of life was suddenly altered by the presence of Frodo's hobbit-feet on his face, followed by the weight of not one, but two hobbits on his head as Merry was dragged overboard as well.  He blindly grappled for the ladder, the tree trunk - anything - but slowly felt the three of them toppling away from the tree.
 
A gargling trio of screeching man and hobbits came flailing down towards those who stood below.

When Merry realized he was being pulled towards the entry hole he frantically tried to let go of Frodo's cloak. But some of the material had become wedged between his top two front teeth and before he could get it out he was falling with Frodo through the hole! Then he landed on something hard which he saw was Aragorn's head before all three of them began to fall towards the ground.
 
Panicking while giving a girly scream, Merry desperately began to flap his arms like a bird hoping that would slow his fall. It didn't but fortunately he landed on Legolas's knocking the Elf first to the ground where he acted as a nice soft pillow for Merry...

Frodo flailed about in complete panic and slowly seperated from the toppling Ranger like a small firework shooting away from a larger one. Like his cousin, he flapped madly to no avail before landing in an explosion of dead leaves on the ground. It was fortunate that they were heaped so deeply, and he didn't weigh much.  
 
As he tried to get his breath back and clawed his way to the top of the pile he could hear the Elven equivalent of utter pandemonium breaking out around them.  His head poked out to find the air filled with tiny bits of golden leaves like confetti - which he had no time to admire before a very loud CREAKing sound crackled right behind him.

Legolas lay on his stomach on the ground with a solid hobbit on his back and contemplated all possible meanings of the word 'dignity', none of which could be applied to him in the current situation.  
 
He sighed and rested his chin against one fist, watching the drama unfold.

Aragorn went over backwards and lost the hobbits somewhere on the way down - it seemed a lot farther to the forest floor than he thought he had climbed.  Thankfully, he landed on something soft... though the Elvish that emitted from his cushion was not so thankful, and in fact would have sent a mother scurrying for soap to wash out the mouth with, if an Elven mother had happened to be around at the time.

Gal smiled endearingly at the mirror... Though if one looked closely at her, one could see the deep underlying annoyance.
 
Then, still holding her head, she hurried off to her room to take some asprin and drink some coffee. This was not her day, not at all.
 
She heard a rather alarming crash. For a moment, she hesitated, but decided she knew just what to do with such a situation: she ignored it, in the naive but sincere hope that it would just go away.

Frodo scrambled away from the creaking, slowly splintering tree that was now visibly wobbling behind him. The rope ladder swung around and banged on the trunk and a shower of small branches and loose whatnot from the flet began to pelt into the dry leaves around him.
 
He really, really hoped the Elven city was better built than this had been.  At least in Rivendell, they had ceilings for instance... well, most of the time....

Sadly, Pippin and Sam were too busy finishing off the Elvish snacks to notice Gimli's decision to bring the flet down to him until the tree was swaying alarmingly.  This brought Pip's head out of the basket wondering what on Middle-earth was going on.  
 
"Sam, I hate to say it, but, it seems like our perch here is quickly going to be a thing of the past.  Maybe we should try figuring out how to survive this problem."
 
"Mmmphhh," was the only reply Pip got as Sam's mouth was stuffed with snacks at the moment and he didn't seem too concerned.
 
"Hey, where did Frodo and Merry go?  They were just up here!" Pippin asked frantically looking every which way, "Can you believe they left us up here?"

Watching the possible destruction of Lorien beginning in front of him Haldir did the only thing possible, fumbling in belt pouch he took a deep breath stuffed in a pair of nose plugs and fingers clenching a shiby gold coin he leaped in close to the dwarf between swings of the axe.
 
"Look at the shiny shiny gold, if you stop hitting the tree you can have the shiny gold.  
 
If you don't stop hitting the tree we'll just run away and leave you and your axe to face the ravening hordes of orcs on their way from Moria to find you.  
 
Oh and maybe we'll give you a lot of arrows free too just so you don't forget what we'd said about not hitting the tree!"
 
Then louder and directed so the hobbits would hear it  
"And when you stop hitting the tree we'll even get you something to eat: a proper meal, 4 courses plus a selection of desserts."

Frodo perked up. "Food? Four courses? Dessert??"  He bounded out of the leaves toward their errant Dwarf.  "Gimli! Gimli! Did you hear that?  Food!"

Gimli turned around, axe still in hand, and if Frodo had not been quite so short there might have been an awkward situation in which the Fellowship would have to attempt killing a small animal in order to provide the Ringbearer with an appropriate coiffure.
 
It was then that he noticed the pretty shiny sparkly thingy the chubby Elf was holding out to him.  
 
He clapped his hands in Dwarvish glee and made a dive for Haldir, forgetting that he still had his axe in hand...

Pippin was still up on the top of the flet, but, hearing some sweet words waft up to him from below he braved looking over the side of the flet.  
 
"Did someone say something about food?  Hold on, Sam and I will be right down!"  
 
With that, Sam and Pippin were down the ladder in a lickety-split.  
 
The sight that greeted them was a bit confusing for 2 hobbits with food on their mind.    
 
"Hey, why is Gimli going after that Elf with his axe?  What did the Elf say?" Pippin asked hoping someone would hear him and give him an answer.  
 
Pippin quickly forgot about Gimli and the Elf as he turned just right and saw Merry and Frodo on the ground not too far away.   Running to Merry, Pippin asked, "Did someone say something about FOOD?"

All of them being half-crazed with appetite, Frodo replied "Four courses! He promised! Four! Four! Four!" and tossed leaves into the air in a celebratory fashion.  
 
He pulled Merry off of Legolas and swung his cousin around happily. "All we have to do is stop Gimli from whacking the trees - Four courses! And DESSERT!"  He glanced down at the flattened Elf in the leaves.  "Did you hear that, Legolas? How can you just lay there when there's food nearby?"
 
There was a terrible splintering noise behind him as the already severely chopped flet-bearing mallorn began to tip.

Aragorn watched the toppling mallorn with awe. He'd never seen one chopped down before... but he hoped the Elven adage was true, that All Mallorns Lead to Caras Galadhon - in which case whichever way it fell, it ought to point the way to the hidden Elf city, and then he could pretend he had known it all along.
 
Dimly aware he ought to be doing something about Gimli running amuck, he fished around in his pockets for anything with gold in it as he watched the tangle of swaying, clutching branches and the mess of leaves tipping over and thought of Arwen....

Now Merry was extremely happy to hear that they would be getting a four course meal and dessert. Just the thought of it set him to drooling big time so as Frodo swung him around like a rag doll it flew from his mouth and drenched the other hobbits and Gimli's faces and the legs of the bigger folk. However Legolas who was still lying flat on the ground remained dry as the drool flew over his head.
 
It also hit the trunk of the slowly tipping mallorn tree thus hastening its fall...

Aragorn's fingers rustled through his pocket lint, lost buttons, toothpicks and other junk until he hit upon a wad of tin-foil. Unwadding it, he held it up to the light and waved it around. "Look! Look, Gimli - mithril! I found a piece of mithril!"
 
The mallorn slowly tipped down with a crash, falling loudly to the forest floor. (Of course, it would have been silent if there had been no one in the woods to hear it.) The ranger noted the direction of the falling tree, sighted along that line and and called out:
 
"There's more mithril, and gold too, Gimli - it's over that way, in the hidden Elf-city!  That way - fetch boy, fetch!"

"Okay that worked too well" thought Haldir as he backed away rapidly from the advancing dwarf, whose wildly flailing - and generally forgotten about- axe was in danger of stopping the (admittedly vague) possibility of little Haldirs ever appearing.  
 
He backed away more circling past Rumli and then the Mallorn fell.  
 
Luckily nowhere near him, but someone was going to be in deep trouble when the Lady found out. Thinking of which Aragorn's shouting gave him an idea. Okay he was pointing in the direction of Dol Guldur but hey"
 
Haldir threw the coin at Aragorn "There dwarfie go catch the shiny gold!"

Legolas sat up and rubbed his back, then brushed leaves and splinters of bark from his clothes and hair.
"I was hoping by this point to be blindfolded," he grumbled as he levered himself to his feet and followed the rest of the Company into the heart of Lothlórien.

Aragorn, finding a gold coin followed by a gold-rabid dwarf coming his way did the only logical thing - he ran.  It was only his blind luck that made the direction he went be the right one.
 
Pelting along through the golden leaves, he found he might as well as been blindfolded for all the scenery he was able to enjoy - it all looked the same, and it was all a blur.  Behind him he heard the steady beat of dwarven boots and behind that, the trampling scrambling sound of the rest of them stampeding along after.  He took a deep breath and put on speed.

Frodo was distraught when Strider and Gimli took off at a dead run. "Hey! Wait! We have to find out where the food is!... oh, I get it - we're going to go find it now? The food is that way?"
 
Blind to all else, he ran after them, hobbit-legs a-blur with that speed they have only been known to previously reach at the Dinner-Table Sprinting event in Hobbiton each summer.

"Oy Frodo don't you eat all the food if you get there before us!" Merry cried out in a panic while he grabbed Pippin by the hand and ran after the Ringbearer his own legs a blur while Pippin floated behind his friend like wash hung out on a line. But he didn't mind just so long as he got his share to eat.

"Hey, your majesty!" the mirror cried.  "You better hot foot it to the greeting hall.  There is a mallorn that has fallen before its time -- by the axe of the dwarf.  We have a rogue Ranger running full tilt, followed by a dwarf who is after him like he has the last mithril penny, there's a man from Gondor who keeps checking his hair. And four hobbits that look like they are on a feeding frenzy."
 
The mirror began to steam at the heat of the Queen's retort.  Trying to lighten the mood, he went on.
 
"I haven't seen Hobbits run that fast since those Shriners from the South Farthing tried to sneak into the Golden Wood in search of Keebler dressed as a mallorn.  We tried to convince them that the Baker Elves were back in Rivendell, but they wouldn't believe us.  Finally, we laced some of those Thirty-thousand Fruitcakes that your 'king' ordered when he was on line and his nose landed on the 'Zero' key during one of his Narcoleptic fits with Hacienda Harry's Habanera sauce and left them out on the porch without any water handy.  Two bites in, they flung off that hideous grey curtain they had wrapped themselves in, tin leaves scattering everywhere, and headed straight for the river and . . . "
 
A wicked gleam stole over the surface of the mirror, had Galadriel been paying attention.  Suddenly, the call went out to Charo's Tchochkes for a few 'Special Order Items' from their 'Vintage Hobbiton Collection.'

At the news of a fallen-no, cut- mallorn, Gal's headache, which had been lurking in the background of her head for the morning, suddenly blazed into full migrane mode. Rubbing her throbbing head, she let out a string of elegant sewars in Elvish, and inwardly marveled at the language's ability to sound melodic and eloquent, especially when she was using some of the ugliest language that had been spoken on Middle-Earth for a very, very long time, even as the elves measure it.
 
She groaned at another stab of headache at the mention of Cel's fruitcake incident, but her mood brightened at the mention of the hobbits and hotsauce. "Mirror, save some of those hotsauce fruit cakes. I want Cel to know just what he has been missing. " An alarming, almost evil grin had spread across her face.