... At which point a newly arrived Fea strolls into the halls, ancient but upright, shinier than a polished kettle on the hob. This Fea and Mandos exchange courtesies.
'Kind of you to look after young Smeagolfea. I'll sort him out now. Hobbits must look after hobbits.'
With vast relief, Mandos nods solemnly. Smeagolfea turns, stares, then leaps back in disgust.
'Baggins! Thief! Baggins!' He hisses.
'Now, now,' says Bilbofea, 'Bygones must be bygones. Come, we're expected. We mustn't be late.'
'Smeagol will go with the other, the nice Baggins.' Smeagolfea mutters, although already he feels the pull to go on.
'The nice Baggins will be along later. He's waiting for his friend, you remember.'
'The other one, the nassty hobbit!'
'That's the one. They'll have a good visit, and then when they're ready, they'll follow along together. We're ready now. Come, I've thought of another riddle. You'll never guess this one!'
'Is it fisshes, my precious?'
'Well... perhaps, among other things. I'll tell you as we go.'
|