When Bilbo awoke, the sun was already high in the sky, and, although he was certainly better for having slept, he felt rather thick-headed, not to mention disgruntled to have missed both second breakfast and elevenses. But he found that the dwarves had risen before him, and Fili had cooked up a kind of hash from some potatoes and the eggs and bacon they had picked at many hours before. He set a plate of this before Bilbo with the triumphant announcement that it was second elevenses, and Bilbo, though initially inclined to snap that there was no such thing, found that the food was so fresh and hot and cheering that he set to eating as fast as he could instead, in the hope that he would finish before Kili and thus be in with a chance for seconds. By the time the pot was scraped clean, he felt much more like himself, and, having been chased away from the washing up by Fili, he retired to the bench outside to smoke and think about the events of the past days.

It was a pleasant enough morning, though rather chilly, and Bilbo found himself very grateful for the opportunity to sit and reflect quietly, for although he had spent most of the previous day alone, it had afforded precious little in the way of rest for him. And once he had thought long and hard, he came to the conclusion that, much as he wished for Kili to recover and learn to be his own dwarf as soon as possible, he had gone about things in quite the wrong way, and they could not continue in the way that they had been. He spent a little while feeling unpleasantly guilty, and then he set his guilt aside - for after all, he had had the best of intentions, and even if he had not, feeling guilty would not help the situation at all, and thus was best left to dwarves and not indulged in by more practical folk. Instead, he considered what he might do, and came to the realisation that perhaps the best thing to do would be nothing at all. It was clear that Kili wished to move forward in his recovery just as much as Bilbo wanted him to, and that he was continually consciously working towards that goal. It was also clear that, whatever Bilbo might have wished to achieve, he had actually damaged Kili's progress by trying to take too much charge of it. No, he would have to simply sit back and leave Kili alone to recover as and when he would, and if that meant that he did not learn how to make choices in any great hurry, well, Bilbo would just have to be content with that.

"And that's all there is to it," he said firmly to himself.

So it was that the rest of the day passed in peace. Bilbo, having made his decision, went so far as to postpone indefinitely the conversation about Kili's deception and what it meant, for he felt that the little dwarf had quite enough to think about already. Instead, he spoke only of cheerful, light-hearted matters, such as the best way of preserving vegetables for the coming winter. He allowed himself one indulgence only, and that was to slip into the dwarves' room and retrieve the two cups that stood, still stacked together, on the little table by the bed, bringing them into the living room and setting them at Kili's elbow. Kili, who had been rather quiet all day, stared at them intently for a moment or two and then turned his face away, and Bilbo made no comment at all, and that was that.

In the evening, Fili and Kili practised their fiddle playing, and they all went to bed rather early. On the whole, thought Bilbo as he was drifting off to sleep, the day had been a great deal more pleasant than the one before - so much so that he wondered why he had ever thought it was a good idea to push Kili in the first place.

It was not for almost two days, then, that anything further happened. Two days of peace and gentleness they were, of exactly the kind that Bilbo had imagined when he had first invited his friends to spend the winter in the Shire. On the first day Esmeralda came to visit, and on the second, Fili took his brother running. It was after they returned from this run and had washed themselves that Kili turned to Bilbo and said, "Hobbit, I can ask you thing?"

"Something," Bilbo said. "And yes, of course you may. You do not need to ask permission, remember?"

Kili frowned. "No," he said. "I not remember."

"Well, you do not," Bilbo said firmly. "Now, what is it you wanted to ask me?"

"Why you are not angry?" Kili asked. He stared at Bilbo, clearly having completed his question and waiting for a reply.

"Why should I be angry?" Bilbo asked, feeling rather puzzled. It had been such a quiet day, he could not imagine what Kili might think he was angry about.

Kili seemed to realise this, for he nodded quickly. "Yes," he said. "I say it bad. I mean - before. You are not - you were not angry. I said you not true, wanted hurt feelings you. But you are not angry. It is bad thing. I do this thing, it is bad. But you were not angry."

"Oh," Bilbo said. He glanced at Fili, who had looked up from his book when Kili first spoke, and now laid it aside with a serious look on his face. "Well," Bilbo said, "perhaps - are you sure you want to talk about this now? You do not have to."

Kili looked rather confused by this. "I not talk?" he said. "You not - You want I not talk?"

"Oh, no, no, that is not what I meant at all!" Bilbo said hastily, and then decided that there was nothing wrong with talking about it as long as it was Kili who initiated the conversation. "Yes, you are quite right, Kili, it was not a nice thing to do. Indeed, I would say it was rather unkind. Do you remember unkind?"

Kili thought for a moment and then shook his head. "I hear before," he said. "I know I did hear. I can not remember it mean."

"It means - let's see - kind is when you do something nice for someone, even though you don't have to and maybe it would be easier not to. When you do something without expecting anything in return, only to make someone feel good. Like - like when Ori draws pictures for you, to make you happy." Bilbo paused here and waited to see if Kili understood. Kili watched him for a moment and then nodded.

"Yes, kind," he said. "Ori is kind. I understand."

"Indeed, he is very kind," Bilbo said. "Now, unkind, then, is the opposite of this. It means when you do something on purpose to hurt someone or make them feel bad, even though it would be easier not to do it. Do you understand?"

Kili's face grew rather grim at this. "Yes," he said. "I understand this. Yes, I did do this. I am unkind."

"No, not at all!" Bilbo cried. "That is not what I meant. What you did was not very kind, but that does not mean that you yourself are unkind."

Kili did not look he understood this, and Bilbo was about to try and explain again, but Kili spoke before he could.

"It is also unkind when you?" he said. "When you do, say me long time guess? Say not true is always unkind?"

"Hmm, no," Bilbo said. "It is not always unkind to lie - indeed, sometimes it is kinder to lie than to tell the truth. I should not have lied to you and told you that it took a long time for me to guess where you were, but I did not do it on purpose to hurt you, so it was not unkind. It was thoughtless, rather."

"Thaw-less?" Kili asked.

"Thoughtless," Bilbo replied. "Because I did not think you see? I did not try to hurt you on purpose, but if I had thought a little harder about how you felt, I might have realised that you would be hurt. So it was thoughtless."

Kili fell silent at that, and, once it became clear that he would need a minute or two to digest this, Bilbo patted him absently and went to make them all some tea. When he returned, Kili was sitting up in his chair, clearly ready to continue the conversation, with Fili by his side looking almost as impatient, so that Bilbo could not help but chuckle a little.

"Another question, then?" he said.

"I understand thoughtless," Kili said. "It is less worse, thoughtless. Less worse than unkind, yes? It is right?"

"Ye-es," Bilbo said, feeling rather like he might be stepping onto rather dangerous ground. "But that does not mean that you are bad. And both things are best avoided if possible."

"Yes, it is bad," Kili said. "Unkind is bad. But you were not angry. Fili was happy. I saw this, Fili smile. I not understand. If it is bad, why you are not angry, why Fili smile?"

"Ah," Bilbo said, trying to think of how to explain. But it was Fili who spoke next, touching his brother's arm.

"I was happy because I saw something that the orcs tried to take from you," he said. "It was not because I wanted you to be unkind to Bilbo. But everyone is unkind sometimes, my brother."

"Quite right!" said Bilbo. "It is not that we want you to be unkind - it is only that we have never seen you act so before, and it is a little unnatural."

He knew, before the word had entirely left his mouth, that it was the wrong one to choose. Ah, if we could call back words and make them never spoken, so much hurt could be prevented! But we cannot, and neither could our hobbit, much as he might wish to. And he in that moment he wished, also, that he had not taught Kili quite as well as he had, for it was clear that he had understood the word, and taken from it something that Bilbo had not meant at all.

"Unnatural?" he said, looking rather miserable. "I am unnatural?"

"No," Bilbo said, "no, no, no! Oh, I did not say that right at all!" He felt exasperated, partly with Kili, but mostly with himself, and found himself rather afraid to open his mouth again for fear of tripping up - for the memory of the last time he had done so, and the day of misery for all that it had occasioned, was still fresh and painful in his mind.

"You are not unnatural," Fili said, seeming to realise that Bilbo was working himself into something of a state. "What Bilbo means is that it is normal for everyone to be unkind sometimes. Even the kindest person is sometimes angry, or exhausted, or at the end of their rope, and may say something they do not mean and that they regret. Nobody can be kind all the time."

Kili stared at him, then frowned briefly at Bilbo before returning his gaze to his brother. "You are always kind," he said.

Fili laughed at this. "I'm afraid I am unkind a great deal more than I would wish to be," he said, and looked ruefully at Bilbo. "Though most of my unkindness is not directed at you, my brother."

Bilbo, recognising this as a fuller and more heartfelt apology for Fili's recent behaviour than he had previously received, nodded and smiled. "Well, as you say," he said, "no-one can be kind all of the time. And you have a good heart, Fili, my lad."

"I am glad you think so," said Fili, and returned his attention to Kili. But Kili was now looking at Bilbo, frowning still.

"It is not right," he said. "Hobbit is not unkind." He glanced back at Fili. "Hobbit is not unkind," he said again.

"No, he is not," Fili said. "But sometimes he does say unkind things."

Kili looked supremely sceptical at this, and Bilbo - though mildly put-out at being thus put in a position where he was forced to point out his own shortcomings - leaned forward and patted his arm.

"Your brother is right," he said. "Why, only the other day I said that you would never learn how not to be a snaga, did I not? And was that kind of me, do you think?"

Kili, who had turned to look at him when he spoke, did not respond to this, but only stared, at first frowning, and then becoming more thoughtful. At last, he shook his head.

"It was not kind," he said. "But I know you not meaned this. So it is not important."

"Whether I meant it or not - meant, Kili, not meaned - I still said it," Bilbo said. "I was sorry straight away, of course, but that is what your brother is trying to explain to you. Even kind people say unkind things sometimes. Most people cannot control all their thoughts and actions so that they never say anything they do not mean, anything they regret. It is not good for a person to be so very controlled that they do not do this. And that is why your brother was happy to see you behave poorly towards me, Kili - it is because before you were always too afraid, too carefully controlled to do this. He was glad to see you break free from that control, even if it was to do something unkind."

"Do you understand?" Fili asked quietly.

Kili thought about it for a moment or two, then slowly shook his head. "Maybe understand, maybe not understand," he said, then frowned. "It is like be sad. It is like be sad, yes?"

"Hm," Bilbo said. "I'm not sure I follow."

"No, I say it bad," Kili said. "You say me before - you say," and now he turned back to Fili, "you say must be sad be dwarf. Be dwarf is always also sometimes be sad. It is not good, but can not do other. Only must sometimes be sad."

Fili nodded, looking rather confused. "I did say that," he said. "Or I think I did, anyway."

"Yes, you say," Kili said. "It is like this. Must also be unkind. Be dwarf is sometimes must be unkind. It is this?"

"I- Yes, I suppose it is," Fili said. "But you - but Kili, you are already a dwarf. You are already a person."

Kili stared at him and then suddenly scowled. It was a brief scowl, certainly, and yet a scowl it undeniably was. He looked to his other side, where the two cups were still stacked together, and then turned and frowned at Bilbo.

"How I can say this?" he said. "Before I say - it is snaga, it is person." He gestured at the floor, as if pointing out phantom versions of the cups that now sat at his elbow. "Now it is- cups are there, one cup in two cup. You say it is same. But it is not same. I am not like you, not like Fili. I am not same. But you say I can not say this, not person, not dwarf. How I can say, if not like this? How I can say it is I am try learn be same, be like dwarf?"

Bilbo felt rather assaulted by this last question, which contained rather more verbs than he felt was strictly necessary, and he was forced to pause a moment while he unpicked the meaning from it. But Kili seemed suddenly rather impatient, and when Bilbo did not answer immediately, he turned to Fili.

"How I can say this?" he asked.

Fili opened his mouth and then closed it again, looking rather helpless. "I don't understand what it is you want to say, my brother," he admitted at last. "Something about the cups?"

Kili shook his head. "No, it is not cups," he said. "I can not say you this. Now cups - and I can not say. No words now." He turned back to Bilbo. "I can not say," he said again, almost glaring now.

"I think I understand," Bilbo said. "You mean - now that I have told you that a snaga is a person, you no longer have a way to describe what it is you want to become. Is that right?"

Kili looked discontented. "I not know," he said, lowering his eyes to the ground. "It is this? I not understand."

"I'm sure you do understand," Bilbo said. "You are not learning how to be a person, Kili. You are already a person. You are learning how to be free." He reached over and prodded Kili's arm until the little dwarf looked at him. "Do you remember this word? Free?"

For a moment, Kili did not respond, but only stared at him with a rather stubborn expression on his face. But Bilbo nodded encouragingly and patted his knee, and at last his lips twitched and he mouthed the word. "I hear before," he said. "Not know what mean."

"It is the opposite of being a slave," Bilbo said. "Of - of being a snaga. A free person is someone who can make all their own decisions and can come and go as they choose and is not controlled by somebody else. A snaga is a person, but they are not free. They are enslaved by the orcs, and so they are not free." He saw Kili glance at the cups again, and he jumped quickly to his feet and hurried from the room, coming back with two more cups, which he placed on the floor at Kili's left and right. "You see?" he said. "Here is thinking like a snaga, and here is thinking like a free dwarf. Like a free dwarf, Kili."

Kili stared down at the cups, and in a moment, all the sullenness of the past few minutes seem to drain out of him. He slipped out of his chair and knelt on the floor, touching first one cup and then the other, running his fingers lightly over the rims and the handles. Then he placed the tip of his index finger on the floor between the two, and slid it a little way right and then a little way left, as if experimenting. Finally, he looked up at Bilbo and nodded, seeming much relieved.

"Yes," he said. "Free. I learn this."

"Good," Bilbo said. "So, then, do you understand why your brother was happy when you were unkind?"

Kili, still kneeling on the floor, looked up at Fili with a thoughtful expression. "I maybe," he said. "It is not I am unkind. Only free person always sometimes say unkind thing. Not mean say, but say. Like angry. Not want be angry, but be angry." He frowned. "I not understand why it is good, say thing not mean. It is not good, do things without want do. Not good, not - not safe."

At this, Fili slipped from his own chair and sat heavily on the floor, putting an arm around Kili's shoulders. "That is why it was so good to see you do it," he said. "Because some part of you understands that you do not need always to worry about being safe any more." He pressed the palm of his free hand against Kili's chest. "Maybe your heart has begun to be less afraid. Maybe it has begun to understand that you are safe now. You are safe, my brother, and you do not need to fear what will happen if you do something unkind. That is part of what it means to be free. That you do not need to always be afraid."

Kili watched him carefully as he said all of this. "It is why you are happy," he said at last. "Because I do thing, it is part of be free. You want this." He pointed at the second cup. "This."

"I was happy because I saw something in you I have not seen for a long time," Fili said. "Because I thought I saw you becoming whole. It is all I want for you, Kili. I want you to be whole."

A slight frown came across Kili's face. "Kili was unkind before?" he said. "Before orcs?"

Fili's face fell a little, and Bilbo felt rather disappointed, too, for he had hoped that Kili had put his habit of separating his past and present selves entirely behind him. But of course, a new thing learned is never learned in a moment - it takes time, and practice, and cannot be rushed.

"No," said Fili. "You were not unkind before the orcs. You were a good-hearted dwarf who always wanted everyone to be happy. But sometimes you did unkind things, and very often you were thoughtless. It is more common with the young, and you were very young."

"But I'm sure you were always sorry," Bilbo put in, for he did not want Kili to come to the conclusion that being often thoughtless was something to strive for.

"Indeed you were," Fili said. "When you understood that you had hurt someone, you were as sorry as the day is long, and you always tried to make them feel better in any way you could. You were a good-hearted dwarf, Kili. You are still a good-hearted dwarf."

Kili lowered his head, but not in fear, rather in thought. He stared at the two cups laid out on the floor before him and reached out a finger to trace the rim of the one that meant free. "Yes," he said at last. "I understand. It is bad say unkind thing. But it mean free. Free is not be afraid. Free is not need be afraid."

"Exactly right," Bilbo said. He had begun to feel rather like he was towering over his guests - an odd feeling indeed for a hobbit - and so he got down to sit on the floor as well, although, being (at least in terms of maturity) rather older than them both, he was less pleased to do so. "It is bad, but as long as you are sorry, it is not a terrible thing. It is easily forgiven."

Kili raised his head sharply at this, fixing Bilbo with a worried stare. "Forgive?" he said. "It must forgive?"

"Yes, indeed," Bilbo said. "If you do something unkind to someone else, it is something that they must choose to forgive - or not to forgive."

The worry on Kili's face grew immediately much greater, and Bilbo realised that, of course, the little dwarf had been so very careful before that he had never done anything that needed to be forgiven. He reached out hastily and patted Kili's knee. "I forgive you," he said. "I forgave you as soon as you said it."

Kili's mouth fell open slightly, and he nodded. "Thank you hobbit," he whispered.

"Oh, my dear lad," Bilbo said with a smile, "you are very welcome."

There fell then something of a silence. It was not an awkward kind of silence, but rather a thoughtful one. Kili had returned his attention to the cups that sat on the floor before him, and he traced his fingers over the rightmost one again, seemingly in deep concentration. Fili was watching his brother with almost the same degree of concentration, as if he thought that if he could only pay close enough attention, he might at last become privy to the strange secrets of Kili's brain. Bilbo, who was not really in the mood to stare intently at anything at all, let alone two dwarves who were not doing very much of interest, was about to clamber to his feet and fetch his pipe when Kili suddenly spoke up again.

"You want this," he said, and picked up the cup, holding it out to Bilbo. "You want I should be this. Should learn this. It is important. It is important, yes?"

Bilbo, already halfway to his feet, sat back down again with a bump. He did not take the cup from Kili, but only considered it, and considered also the promises he had made to himself that morning only a few days before, about how he would not push Kili, but would let him recover in his own time and on his own terms.

"Well," he said at last, when he had completed his considerings as thoroughly as he could without being unacceptably rude in making Kili wait too long for an answer, "what I really want is for you to be comfortable and happy. It seems to me that you would be happier if you were able to do these things - to make your own decisions, and be your own dwarf - and that is why I have tried to find ways for you to learn this. But I realise now that it was rather wrong of me to try and make you learn this in the way I did."

Kili looked rather mystified by this speech. "You want I learn?" he said. "It is important?"

Fili reached forward, then, and folded Kili's fingers around the cup, which he was still holding out to Bilbo. "He says it is for you to learn if and when you will, my brother," he said. "It does not matter whether Bilbo wants you to or not. It is for you to learn, or not learn, whenever it feels right."

Kili looked from Bilbo to Fili and back. "It is this?" he said to Bilbo.

"Yes, that is right," Bilbo said. "You must do what feels right to you."

Kili lowered his hand, gripping the cup rather tightly, so it seemed. He stared at it, and then set it carefully back down on the floor. Fili caught Bilbo's eye and gave him a nod that seemed to say yes, I am glad we agree at last.

And Bilbo was glad, too.

Kili spent most of the rest of the day sitting on the floor, so deeply sunk in thought that Bilbo felt sure that another breakthrough would occur soon, perhaps even before they all went to bed. He found himself quite impatient to hear what would be the result of Kili's reflections, and in the end he invented work for himself in the cellar so that he was not tempted constantly to pause by Kili and ask him how he was feeling. He felt very pleased with himself concerning the success of his new approach of allowing Kili to go his own way, for it had been only a few days since he had begun it, and yet already it seemed to be bearing fruit.

But whatever fruit that might be, it did not make its appearance that day. The night passed peacefully enough - although Bilbo found it rather hard to fall asleep - and the next day dawned rainy and chill. It was the perfect kind of day for sitting by the fire with a pipe and a steaming cup of tea, and thus, the perfect kind of day for thinking deeply. And so Kili did, just as he had the day before, though this time he sat in his chair and only stared down at the cups where he had placed them again on the floor. And still Bilbo waited and bit his tongue and chewed on his pipe rather more vigorously than was perhaps advisable.

As the day wore on, though, Kili began to seem less and less happy with whatever thoughts were passing through his mind. He had become very quiet, which of course was nothing particularly unusual in him, but he began to start a little whenever anyone made any move or spoke any word, and seemed nervous and agitated. Bilbo observed this with some trepidation, but he had promised himself he would not interfere in the progress of Kili's thoughts, and he did not (though it took some effort). Fili, though, had made no such promise, or if he had he did not care to keep it in the face of his brother's obvious distress. After Bilbo's throwing a log on the fire caused Kili to shudder and withdraw behind his hair, Fili shook his head and touched his brother's arm.

"Kili," he said, "what is the matter?"

Kili remained perfectly still for a moment or two, then, apparently with some effort, seemed to shake himself a little and lifted his head.

"No matter," he muttered. "I am well."

"I see," Fili said. "And did you not promise that you would tell us if something was wrong? I was sure you had promised so, but perhaps I am mistaken."

Kili sat for a moment as if frozen, though the expression on his face made it clear that he was wrestling with himself. At last, he gave a short nod, gripped the arms of his chair tightly, and turned to Bilbo.

"I can not this," he said. He leaned down and seized the cup that meant free, holding it out to Bilbo almost frantically. "I try, try try. But can not. I know I can not. I am not snaga, not snaga. But I can not learn this. Make choices. Go walk alone. I can not learn be free. Can not."

Bilbo, quite bewildered by Kili's sudden vehemence after such a long period of quiet, shook his head. "Now, Kili, I'm sure it all seems rather difficult right now-"

"No - no," Kili said, and, to Bilbo's great surprise, he dropped the cup in Bilbo's lap and immediately curled in on himself, going so far as to draw his legs up into the armchair and hunch over so that he was half hidden by his knees. Bilbo stared in great astonishment, and not a little chagrin, for in all his impatience to hear what Kili had to say for himself, he had never considered that it might be this.

"Kili-" he started again, but Fili suddenly reached over and seized him by the arm, almost painfully, giving him a sharp shake of the head.

"Then you will not," Fili said, letting go of Bilbo and touching Kili's shoulder. "It is just as Bilbo told you. If it does not feel right to you, you need not do it. Just as Bilbo said." And he laid a little emphasis on this last sentence, and glanced meaningfully at Bilbo over the top of Kili's head.

"Oh - well I - yes, yes," Bilbo said, feeling wrong-footed and flustered. "I did say - I mean I did not think - but yes, I did say that, and it was true. Of course you do not have to continue if you do not want to, Kili. There is no need to hide. I am not angry."

Kili peered out at him from under his hair, and Bilbo nodded and smiled and did his best to hide the bitter disappointment that now began to make itself known as the true meaning of Kili's words sank in.

"I must not learn?" Kili asked, half in a whisper. "It is not bad?"

"Not bad at all, my brother," Fili said. He reached down and picked up the cup that was still on the floor, then leaned over and hugged Kili briefly, kissing him on the temple. Rising to his feet, he held his hand out to Bilbo for the other cup, and, when Bilbo had handed it to him, he turned away.

"I will put these away," he said, and stumped off towards the kitchen.

Bilbo watched him go, feeling all at sixes and sevens. Why, only a minute or two before he had been so very sure that Kili would surmount some great obstacle and take another step towards being fully himself, and yet now- He shook his head, feeling angry with himself for having created this trap so thoroughly that, now that it had been sprung, there seemed no obvious way out.

"There now," he said to Kili, patting him rather distractedly. "Everything is quite all right. I must just talk to your brother." And he leapt to his feet, and pattered after Fili.

He found him in the kitchen, setting the cups back on the shelf. Bilbo crossed to stand beside him and lowered his voice so that Kili would not hear from the next room.

"Well, that all went rather wrong," he said.

Fili turned and raised his eyebrows. "What makes you say that?" he said. "You asked him to make a choice, and he did."

"Yes, but-" Bilbo said. "Surely you do not mean to allow him to be dependent on us for ever?"

Fili's face darkened a little. "Surely you do not mean to make the same mistakes again so soon?" he said.

Bilbo gaped at him, and Fili shook his head. "You gave him the choice, and he made it. That is what it means, Bilbo, to let him go his own way. He did not choose what you wanted him to, but it is still his choice."

"But he chose not to choose!" Bilbo cried, sure that Fili must be able to see the absurdity of the situation.

But Fili only nodded, though his expression was tired and rather sad. "Aye," he said. "That he did. But if he does not want to learn, how do you propose to make him? More games and lies?"

And now the true impossibility of it all became quite clear to Bilbo. For of course, Fili was right: even if he chose to disregard Kili's wishes, they would still be left at the same impasse as before, and Bilbo had no illusions that a second round would produce a more favourable result. It was all very aggravating, to be sure!

"Well, what are we to do, then?" Bilbo asked, feeling suddenly quite helpless.

Fili sighed. "It is as you said," he said. "We will let him be. Perhaps things will change, and perhaps they will not. But we must be content either way."

And he clapped Bilbo on the shoulder and turned to go back to the living room. Bilbo, left alone in the kitchen, took one of the cups down from the shelf and turned it around and around in his hands. He could not tell whether it was the cup that meant snaga or the cup that meant free - for they were twins, inherited from many generations of Bagginses - and after perhaps a minute of staring at it he set it back on the shelf.

"Yes," he said firmly to it, "I will be content. I am content."

But he was not.