"What are you doing?" asked Merry as little Hamfast dumped his entire bag of elf-catching powder on the ground and spread it between the blades of grass with his chubby little hands.
"Gonna catchme'an elf'n then i'll have'an elf," he said with determination as he shook the upside-down pouch vigorously to be sure it was entirely empty.
“Here, have mine,” said Frodo, handing his bag to Hamfast. “This game’s rubbish. Elves can’t be caught with dust. I bet it’s not even real fair folk hunting dust Sam-dad’s given us.” Hamfast added to his widening white patch of ground.
Goldilocks held her bag close to her chest. "I shall keep my bag until I am certain I see an elf. I do not wish to waste it," she said with great conviction. Her brothers and their friend were keeping a keen eye on the trees and shrubs, looking for any sign of one of the fair folk. "Pippin, you're wasting it," she scolded when her brother began to sprinkle pinches of the powder on the lower branches of the trees he could reach.
"Am not," he argued. "Elves live in trees. Everyone knows that. When they come down, I'll catch them all this way."
Merry looked up at the saplings his brother was tending to and shook his head. "Good idea, Pippin," he called out, and then he turned to Faramir and shook his head. "He won't catch a single elf like that," whispered the older hobbit lad. "Come on, let's go this way," he said, pulling Faramir down one of the winding paths.
- - -
"Oh, an' fer once I'll have a bed I fit into," Gimli said. "And food fit for a dwarf," he added, listing the various items he was looking forward to in the Shire. "An' proper ales, hobbits know their beer. An' pipeweed!" he exclaimed. "I hope they've some of that Longbottom Leaf."
"Gimli, you're a glutton," Legolas said, and he laughed. "Meat and beer and pipes- it's a wonder you have trouble keeping up." The pair had left their horse to graze at one of the farms on the outskirts with the only farmer they could find who was not scared of the enormous animal that dwarfed his two ponies. Proceeding on foot, Legolas had listened the majority of the time to Gimli complimenting the halflings and their way of life.
Pausing now to catch his breath again, Gimli folded his arms over his chest and leaned against a tree. "I pine for meat and beer and a good pipe, that much is true. A warm fire perhaps and a good song to be heard. You on the other hand, how many pretty little things did you have sit upon your knee when we were at that last inn up the road? Was it four? Six?"
As Gimli pretended to guess, Legolas found himself a sturdy branch to perch upon in the same tree. "It was eleven- twelve if you count the one who didn't sit on my lap but did kiss me, buy me a pint, and ask me to marry her."
"Only twelve? Ah, but then we were only there a week and you hardly even tried. Now, master elf, who is the glutton?" asked Gimli, grinning up at his friend.
"You still are," replied Legolas, looking toward their destination. "I am a wealthy, handsome, single son of a king looking for the right elleth or woman to settle down and have a family with."
"Somehow, I doubt that was what was on your mind when your hands were on the backside of that barmaid in Bree," answered Gimli.
Legolas looked straight down and stuck out his tongue, and then said, "Every Prince needs a Princess."
"They didn't even know you were a prince," scolded Gimli.
"I have a very princely way about me," argued Legolas, sitting straight upon his branch.
“Oh, of course. I could tell, by the way you fondled all the maidens.”
“They fondled me first,” Legolas retorted. He caught sight in the distance of a few young wandering hobbits. "Well, look there," he pointed, and was answered by a grumble from Gimli that such a thing was impossible. Hopping down from the branch, Legolas said, "I spy some little hobbits. What say you we thrill them with the presence of an elf and a dwarf in the Shire?"
"Finally. If it weren't for you constantly having to take breaks, I would be enjoying mah mug of ale an' mah pipe right now," Gimli said.
- - -
“Sprinkle a little here... sprinkle a little there...” Merry directed Faramir as the lad took pinches of his fairy catching dust and rubbed it between his fingers and onto the ground.
“Merry,” said Faramir, “Why don’ we use yer fairy dust, too?”
“Ah, well we need that for when we see the elf,” Merry explained, patting the pouch that was tied to his belt. “For when we catch one, we’ll need to cover him in it, to freeze him.”
“What if we catch a her?” asked Faramir.
Merry shook his head and made a face. “Girl elfs are too wise for that, my Sam-dad says. The Lady Good-elf he met who gave him the big tree would never fall for something like fair folk catching dust. But lot’sa those boy elfs would.”
“Oh.” Faramir nodded in agreement with his wise friend.
A shriek rose up from where they had started their fair folk catching expedition, and Merry’s shoulders sagged. “That’s Goldie-girl makin’ a fuss. Pip’s prolly gone and upset her.” Faramir frowned with a great amount of concern written on his face, and the pair ran back to the clearing they had started in. “Wha’s wrong, Goldilocks?” asked Merry as he came to the aid of his sister.
“Pippin means to steal my fair folk catching dust, an’ he can’t have it!” Goldilocks was on the ground, being sat upon by her older and slightly bigger brother, one hand clutching the pouch her father had given her and the other protecting her hair.
“Oh, my’n what a mess! Pip!” Merry looked sternly at his brother. “Go’in get off her, now! Tha’s not nice!”
Pippin pouted and rose up off of Goldilocks, who shoved him further away and pouted herself. “Well if she’s not gonna use her dust, then I will!”
“She’s saving it, Pip!” Faramir said, stepping over to where Goldilocks was standing.
“I’m savin’ it, Pip-pin,” reiterated Goldilocks.
“An’one know, this tas’ like sweet cannies,” spoke Hamfast, who had been sucking on his fair folk catching dust-covered fist.
“Shh, Hammy!” Merry stood up on his tiptoes. “I heard som’thin’!” All of the hobbit children stood up on their tiptoes with their noses turned a bit upward so that all of them, except little Hamfast who remained on the ground, looked like a group of prairie dogs. “It’s a big people! I can see the top of his head!”
“A big people? Big people are banned!” Goldilocks looked ready to cry. “Da says, no big people ever come here,” she told Faramir, who took hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Quick! Hide!” Merry rounded up his younger siblings and pulled Hamfast behind a bush just as a big person and a stout person walked into the clearing.
- - -
“I swore I heard children,” mused Legolas. He and Gimli proceeded with caution as Legolas silently pointed to the various splotches of white that were upon the ground. As they came closer and closer to where the hobbits were hiding, Legolas crouched down and took an arrow from his quiver, poking at the powder with it. “How bizarre. It looks like some sort of plant disease.”
- - -
“How bizarre,” whispered Goldilocks to Faramir. “That man has pointed ears.”
Pippin practically jumped in the air. “He’s no man, then! He’s an elf!” Tugging on Faramir’s arm, Pippin pointed and said, “Use your dust on him!”
For a moment, Faramir stood frozen in his place with his mouth hanging open. When he saw Merry run out from his hiding spot and struggle to untie his pouch from his belt, Faramir took off full speed. “Merry, he’s mine! I saw ‘im first!” This was not quite true of course, but of the two, it was Faramir whose bag was open first and he frantically reached in taking pinches of dust and sprinkling them on the elf’s boots. Slowly, the tall one turned his head to regard his dwarven companion.
- - -
“Gimli, what’s going on?”
“Ah’m not sure,” said the dwarf. “But Ah know Ah am amused by it,” he chuckled.
Legolas glared back at him.
- - -
Frustrated that he could not open his pouch, Merry ran behind the elf, took a few steps back, and then ran at him and shoved him with both hands. Taken completely by surprise, he stumbled forward into the trap Hamfast had spread out. “I got ‘im! I got ‘im!” Merry shouted in triumph, but little Hamfast came running out from behind the bush.
“Tha’s not fair he’s my elf’n’ll take ‘im cause he’s mine.” Hamfast stuck his fist back into his mouth once more and sucked the rest of the sugar off.
- - -
“A fine welcome this is,” grumbled Legolas as he tried to raise himself from the ground. The hobbit lads all took a step or two back, so it was a hobbit lass who came running from her hidden spot to save the day.
- - -
“You didn’t listen to Da!” Goldilocks shouted at the boys. “You don’t get the elf on the dust, you get the dust on the elf!” And with that, she raised the pouch as far up as she could and dumped the contents on the elf’s head. She delightedly clapped when the elf sat back down again.
“Now he needs to be tied up,” declared Merry, and he untied one of the laces from his boots and handed it to Goldilocks. “Here, Goldie-girl, he’s your elf now!”
Goldilocks nodded and smiled at Merry, and then came around and took hold of one of the elf’s hands. As he looked at the dwarf with a ‘I could use a bit of help here’ expression, Goldilocks very gently and neatly tied the lacing around one of his hands, finishing it off with not one but two bows. “You need to get up, Mr. Elf, so I can take you home with me.”
- - -
With a sigh, Legolas stood up, having to hunch over just slightly so that the hobbit lass could still hold onto the other end of the lacing. “Gimli, say a word of this to anyone...” warned Legolas
Closing his mouth though his face was still mirthful, Gimli mimed locking it shut and throwing away the key. Legolas did not, however, noticed Gimli ‘pick up’ the key and ‘put it into his pocket’... for safe keeping.
- - -
“So... what did they do to him after they ‘caught’ him?”
Gimli glanced around, and not seeing Legolas, said in a low voice, “As soon as they led him to that big green door, I knew for certain whose children they were. I said nothin’ to them though. The looks the elf was givin’ me!”
“Gimli!” Legolas approached suddenly from behind. “You told him?”
Gimli mimicked locking his jaws shut again as Elessar looked up from his perch on the Brandywine Bridge and asked, “Where does one find ‘elf catching dust’?”
For a moment Legolas was silent and then he said, “One finds a dwarf who likes to gossip and grinds his bones to make it.”
A little ways off, the fair folk hunters all looked at each other with sad faces.
“Poor dwarfs,” said Merry mournfully.
Pippin nodded in agreement. “I feel bad for them.”
Goldilocks scrunched up her nose. “Ew, ew, icka icka, I touched grounded dwarves.”
“I jus’ think it was sugar cannies still it was good,” mumbled Hamfast to himself.
