Of Tooks and Brandybucks

Parties and Pranks

A/N: Hi! This fic's set in the Fourth Age about 20 years after the events of Return of the King. Frodo has already gone to the Grey Havens, Sam is the Mayor, Pippin is the Thain and Merry is the Master of Buckland. Faramir Took is Tolkien's creation, but Merry's children are entirely my own. Hope you enjoy!

The lights were bright in the Party Tree as scores of Hobbits danced and sang cheerful songs at its base. Though not yet as tall as the tree which had once stood here in days gone by, the young tree was by far more beautiful. It was the only mallorn tree anywhere in Middle Earth outside of the woods of Lórien; it's wood was smooth and silvery-grey and seemed to shimmer with moonlight itself. It's leaves, green on one side and silver on the other, fell during springtime and new ones were sprouting alongside beautiful golden flowers. It had been planted here by Samwise Gamgee after the Scouring of the Shire. The land of the Hobbits, which had been scarred and mutilated by Saruman's forces, was restored and brought to life under Sam's careful ministrations, aided in no small way by the earth he had been gifted from the garden of Lady Galadriel herself, and was thriving and as vibrant as ever. The mallorn tree was the envy of all those who came from far and wide to see it.

Faramir Took knew all of this, but he didn't care.

The party was in full swing, and, as in all Hobbit parties, there was a great deal of drink, food and song on offer for all. The Party Field was crammed with Hobbits of all ages and sizes; Tooks, Brandybucks, Bracegirdles, Proudfoots, Bolgers, Gardners and a whole host of others. Though not quite on the scale of the legendary eleventy-first birthday party of the esteemed Bilbo Baggins, there was sufficient merriment and enjoyment on display to make this a day worth discussing in the taverns of the Shire for a good couple of months. After all, it was their Mayor's 60th birthday, Samwise Gardner, formerly Gamgee, and if that was not an excuse for pipe-weed and beer then what was? Not of course that Hobbits needed any such excuses.

Faramir grinned as he surveyed the field of mismatched tents and half-drunken hobbits. The night was ripe for some good mischief. And mischief was what he was good at.

He ducked behind one tent as half a dozen Gardner children ran by, all shrieking with delight at their new toys, their father's birthday forgotten, and waited, making sure he was concealed from sight of most of the party-goers. Many hobbits had gathered in this tent for the story-telling portion of the evening, one of the highlights of any party in the Shire, but greater still because everyone knew that Sam Gardner's stories were the best on offer. It was here, once a year they could allow themselves to sit and listen to stories of Trolls and giant spiders, Elves and Dwarves and mountains of fire, before bidding everyone goodnight and wandering back to their own safe beds, the limits of their curiosity filled. After all, no one wanted stories like that every day. It would only encourage strange and un-Hobbitlike behaviour among the young.

Through the thick canvas, Faramir could just about hear Sam's voice, only a little slurred by the multitudes of beer he had consumed. He was speaking of the coronation of King Elessar, and his audience were in raptured silence, though they had heard the story multiple times. Some lucky hobbits had even seen the king from afar as he rode past the Shire on his way to Annúminas for his visits to his northern kingdom. Faramir knew without looking that his father was also there by Sam's side, perhaps hoping he would be called upon to give a story or two of his own. He never failed to wish to show off his Gondorion sword and mail.

Faramir crouched there for a while, his knees beginning to ache, impatience growing rapidly. Now, where was he? They were running out of time!

Just as Sam began to move onto talk of Elessar's wedding, Faramir heard a shuffling behind him and a hand clapped him on the shoulder. Gobby's face, red and sweaty, loomed into view through the dim light.