A/N: So, yeah, this is my first story that I'm posting on this site. I've been writing for quite a while, but I haven't discovered this little corner of the Internet until a few weeks ago. I've studied character creation for some time now, so I hope my first OC Cress turns out nice and healthy. Also, I apologize beforehand for any OOC-ness that may occur in this story.

A word about Cress before you meet her: she is an Elf, and she met and became Gandalf's student sometime between The Hobbit and The Fellowship of the Ring. As of this first chapter, she is four hundred and thirteen years old.

Now, on to the inspiration for this story; has anyone, besides me, been slightly ticked off that the Fellowship of the Ring never had a female member? Or at the fact that there weren't many main female characters in general? And The Hobbit literally had no female characters at all! I was really glad when the second Hobbit movie added Tauriel into the story. I don't understand why everyone seems to hate Tauriel; I think it was brilliant to put her in there. The main point: Lord of the Rings should have at least one reoccurring female lead (Arwen doesn't count as she isn't very interesting and hardly does anything unless it's for Aragorn). But that's just my opinion, you can argue it if you want, just don't flame me.

Well, enough of my ranting! I don't own Lord of the Rings or any of the canon characters. Here's the story ~

Simple Gifts

*Chapter I:

Dearest Diary,

Master Gandalf is taking me to the Shire for the first time. He told me that there is a hobbit in Hobbiton who is celebrating his one hundred and eleventh birthday, a very respectable age for a hobbit. I think this hobbit's name is Bilby Pappins or Billy Backins or something along those lines; I can't quite remember. Whatever the case, this Bilby Pappins is an old friend of Master Gandalf's from many years ago, and Master Gandalf has taken it upon himself to throw a nice little birthday party for him. I don't understand why I must come along as well, but Master Gandalf insisted. He says that I will like the Shire very much. "It's a lovely little corner of the world," he told me last week. "And hobbits are such interesting folk. I do think you'll find them most entertaining, Cress."

We, Master Gandalf and I, have been travelling on a wagon for the past two weeks, trying to get to the Shire. Not to mention, there are fireworks and all sorts of contraptions occupying space in the wagon; I barely have any leg room! The road to the Shire is not nearly the smoothest road I've ever taken. There are so many bumps and pot holes in the ground that I truly feel sorry for the poor beast that is pulling our load.

However, I must admit that the scenery is nice. Everything here is so green, and as I have told you before, green is my favorite color. It's very peaceful here, after we crossed the borders of the Shire. If it weren't for this horribly rickety wagon interfering with my comfort, I would actually enjoy this journey. Master Gandalf appears to be in a good mood. He must be very fond of Billy Backins, and from what I can understand, Billy Backins is quite the rich fellow. And he has a nephew named Frodo – or perhaps it's just Rodo? Draco? I've never been good at remembering names, especially these Shire names. They are very strange to me. Who would name their son Bilby? Now, my name – Cress – is a good name. I like my name; I suppose that is my favorite thing about myself. … Actually, that's a lie. My hair is rather nice, I think. Hmm… I can't quite decide. Perhaps I'll ask Master Gandalf.

"Master Gandalf?" Cress shifted her large, doe-like brown eyes away from her journal and looked up at the tall wizard who sat beside her in the tiny wagon. "What is your favorite thing about me, my hair or my name?"

Gandalf frowned at this odd question without taking his eyes off the road in front of him. "That is certainly a peculiar thought, my girl." He appeared to think for a few minutes, glancing over at the She-Elf once in a while to study her wavy honey blonde hair.

Cress continued to stare up at him expectantly, with a bright little smile gracing her lips as if Gandalf's answer meant the world to her. "Well?"

The wizard beamed as he thought of a response that would do. "If you're asking me what attribute of yours pleases me the most, I would have to say neither your hair nor your name."

His companion blinked obliviously for a couple of seconds, trying to decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Gandalf laughed at Cress' blank expression before elaborating on his answer, "Don't misunderstand me, Cress; I am not saying your hair looks bad or your name isn't satisfactory. I am merely pointing out that, if you are truly trying to find your best trait, you've left out the most obvious one."

"My eyes?" Cress guessed thoughtfully. Before Gandalf could reply, the She-Elf snatched out a throwing knife from her sleeve and peered at her reflection in the polished blade. She frowned when she saw that her eyes were still their marshy brown color. "My eyes aren't that great, Master Gandalf," she said, still examining herself in the knife blade.

Gandalf took one hand away from the reins and made Cress, who was leaning dangerously close to the blade, lower the weapon to a safe distance from her face. "A person's best attributes are not found of the outside, Cress. Though your appearance is fair, it is nothing special. You are an Elf, and all Elves have fair physical features."

"Yes, you have told me that already, Master," Cress pointed out, but not rudely. "So what is your favorite quality of mine? I would very much like to know this, Master Gandalf."

"You are exceptionally bright," the wizard said at last. "Of all the years you've been my student, I have rarely seen you unhappy. Stay that way; it may bring hope and light to people around you when things seem the most hopeless and dark."

Cress frowned at that last part. "But, things won't get dark and hopeless, will they?"

Gandalf's eyes suddenly looked faraway and misty. After a long while, when the She-Elf was sure that her teacher wasn't going to answer, he did, "I dearly hope not, Cress. No one can tell for certain, but if something terrible happens to Middle-earth, we must be strong."

Cress' eyes were wide with astonishment at the ominous tone of the wizard. "O-okay…"

They were both silent for a while as the wagon rolled on down the road and came to a clearing where the trees parted, revealing a beautiful stretch of land beyond a narrow little river. Little houses with round doors and windows scattered across the field. Miles of farmland could be seen where little people – the hobbits – were busily plowing the meadows and tending to crops. Gandalf halted the wagon to look over at Cress.

"Welcome to Hobbiton," he said with a warm smile. "Now, let us not burden ourselves with this talk of dark times. We are going to a birthday party, the merriest of all celebrations! Keep your chin up, look happy, smile, and wave."

Cress nodded eagerly and promptly began singing loudly a song in the Elven tongue. She enjoyed singing very much, though she was terrible at it, often driving away birds and causing the squirrels to throw acorns at her. However, being forever oblivious and unfazed by others' opinions of her, she continued to sing, noisily and very out of tune.

Gandalf flinched as she reached a very high and shrill tone. At once, he cupped his hand over Cress' mouth to stop the string of horrible notes – squawks and shrieks would be a better word.

When Cress looked at him, appearing confused and a bit annoyed, Gandalf shook his head at her and said, "I would stick to the flute if I were you."

The Elf huffed with displeasure, but reluctantly stopped her singing and dug her flute out of her little travel sack. She learned to play from her mother, and unlike her singing voice, Cress' flute playing was surprisingly good.

Her flute is a precious thing to her but not because it made up for her less than perfect vocal talents. Long ago, when Cress first started learning sorcery from Gandalf, the wizard had asked her to find an object that she would keep forever. This object, which turned out to be her flute, became the thing from which she channeled her magic, much like Gandalf's staff. Without her flute, Cress was very much like her teacher without his staff. It was like losing a part of her body.

Cress lifted the instrument to her lips and prepared to play that same tune she had just sung when she realized that she had not finished writing her diary entry yet. She quickly set the flute down and picked up her quill and notebook again as Gandalf urged the horse to go on.

Master Gandalf says that he likes my personality better than my hair or name. But still, I must say my hair is very nice, so I'll have to decide that that is my favorite attribute about myself.

Master Gandalf also said something about dark times. I hope he was only speaking metaphorically, for I am very much enjoying myself in this time a peace. It would be horrible if something was to come and disturb the concord.

Suddenly, the sound of children shouting and cheering reached Cress' pointed ears, and she looked up to see that the wizard's wagon was surrounded by little hobbit children. They were all quite short and wore no shoes. None of them seemed to pay any attention to the Elf, but they all knew very well who Gandalf was.

"Fireworks! Fireworks!" the hobbit children cried excitedly. They chased Gandalf's wagon as it rolled slowly down the road and deeper into Hobbiton.

The deeper Gandalf drove into the village, the more tongues began to wag and people began to stare. To Cress' shock, a few of the inhabitant of Hobbiton glared and spat unfriendly words at their wagon as they passed. A notably unhappy hobbit family lived very close to the hobbit-hole that was the wizard and the She-Elf's destination.

"The Sackville-Bagginses," Gandalf leaned over and whispered to Cress. "They're not the most pleasant folk around these parts. Don't pay any attention to them."

"Why are they so… angry?" the student asked meaningfully. "If they keep frowning like that, they'll get frown lines. Are they always like that, or is it because we're here that they are unhappy?"

Gandalf briefly explained how the Sackville-Bagginses were relatives of Bilbo's – so that is him name! thought Cress – and they were next in line to inherit Bilbo's hobbit-hole… this is, before Bilbo adopted Frodo as his heir, and now the Sackville-Bagginses will never get the nice hobbit-hole they've been wanting ever since its owner came back from his journey 60 years ago, interrupting the auction that was being put on his home.

"What a lovely family…" Cress murmured. She did not like the look of disgust the Sackville-Bagginses gave her and her teacher/master/hero. "I do hope Bilbo and Frodo are more pleasant than them."

Gandalf grinned from behind his long bushy beard, "Worry not. Like I told you before, Bilbo is my old friend. He will graciously welcome us into his home. Ah, here we are!"

Cress was so busy trying to get a glimpse of the Sackville-Bagginses again, that she did not noticed the wizard halting the wagon in front of a quaint hobbit-hole at Bag End. The She-Elf first found the home to be the cutest thing in the world. It was so very small (probably very large for a hobbit) and so very cozy looking with its round green door and yellow door knob.

"It's lovely," she commented happily. Gandalf nodded at her, and Cress slid off the wagon. Standing up straight, Cress was a fair height; five feet and six inches tall. But that was still a rather short height on Elf standards. She first attempted to stretch her legs, but found that they were deeply asleep.

Cursing, Cress ignored the numbness and proceeded to help Gandalf in unloading the wagon a bit. Then, they went up to the gate in front of Bilbo's garden where a sign read 'No Admittance Except For Party Business', then to the front door of the house and politely rang the bell.

Some hasty shuffling could be heard on the other side of the door. It swung inward after a short while, revealing a smiling old hobbit on the other side. His hair was curly and a pale grey to show his age, and his skin was slightly wrinkled. He didn't look nearly as old as Cress had expected, but it was still easy to tell that he was Bilbo Baggins, the hobbit that will turn one hundred and eleven years old very soon.

"Ah, Gandalf!" the hobbit squeaked delightedly. He first bowed at the wizard then slowly went forward to hug him around the waist, due to being too short and unable to reach his shoulders. Then he turned his attention to the Elf standing behind Gandalf, "And you must be…"

Cress smiled softly at him, dipped down in a sort of curtsy, and ended up falling on her face due to not being able to feel her legs. She scrambled back up, highly embarrassed, and straightened her clothes in a failed attempt to appear dignified after that humiliating slip-up.

She held out her hand to Bilbo, flashing a charming smile, "Hello, Mr. Packins – er, Baggins – sorry." She mentally banged her forehead against a table. "My bad, I'm not very good at remembering names. I hope you will forgive me."

Bilbo didn't seem bothered at all by this. He merely beamed at her, good-naturedly. "Now, now, there's nothing to forgive, my lass. I have been told much about you; you are Cress, the Elf pupil of Gandalf."

"That's right," Cress nodded, and properly shook hands with Bilbo.

"Oh! An Elf at my birthday party!" Mr. Baggins cried joyously. "Folk around here have seldom seen Elves at all. You and Gandalf are both most welcome in my home. Please, come in!"

He stepped out of the doorway to allow the wizard and the Elf entrance into his hobbit-hole. Gandalf entered first and had to stoop down in order to get through the tiny, circular doorway. Cress was next, and she, being shorter than her teacher, only needed to duck her head a bit in order to go into the cozy hole of Mr. Baggins.

As Bilbo led them deeper into his home, Gandalf knocked his head on a simple chandelier while he was busy keeping up with the hobbit's quick pace. Cress narrowly avoided hitting her temple on a beam that supported the ceiling as she followed closely behind her teacher.

At last, Bilbo brought them to a sitting room with a fireplace, a few chairs, and cups of tea waiting for them. The hobbit eagerly beckoned them to sit and have a drink.

Cress noticed a large chair that was bigger than all the others. She was quite sure that it was there for Gandalf. She looked around and found that there was not a seat big enough for her.

Mr. Baggins looked apologetic. "I am sorry, Ms. Cress, but I do not have any other chairs that you would be comfortable in. Please excuse my unpreparedness."

Cress saw that Gandalf had already sunk into his prepared armchair. "It's alright, Mr. Baggins," she gave him a reassuring grin. "Don't mind me. I'll just go outside and get the party decorations ready. And our horse is tired from the long journey, so I should probably tend to him first. You enjoy your tea, Mr. Baggins."

This seemed to make the hobbit feel slightly better about not pleasing a guest. Cress carefully weaved her way through the many tunnels of the smial and found her way to the front door again. She slipped out of the hobbit-hole, closed the door behind her, and turned to Gandalf's wagon which still sat before the gate to Bilbo's garden.

The Elf approached the wagon, took a crateful of fireworks from the back, and prepared to take it to the wide field that was to be the site of the party. However, when she tried to pull the crate away, it wouldn't budge. She frowned and pulled harder. A flash of skin appeared, and Cress realized that someone was fighting over the crate with her. "Hey!" the She-Elf shouted, thinking it was one of the Sackville-Bagginses or just some hooligan hobbit children. "What do you think you're doing? Get out of there! Those fireworks can blow up in your face, you little thief!"

"I'm not a thief!" came the reply in a male voice. "These party favors are for my uncle from Gandalf the Grey! What are you doing with them?!"

Cress grunted as the crate was wretched out of her hand, leaving some painful wood splinters. She drew her flute from her belt and brandished it around a little, ready to hex whoever may attack her. "Just who in the name of Elrond are you!?" she hissed venomously. "Show yourself!"

To her great shock, a young hobbit stepped out from behind the wagon and into view. He was taller than most of the hobbits Cress had seen so far, but still quite short, which is probably why the Elf couldn't see him before. He had very curly, dark brown hair, bright eyes, and a cleft in his chin.

"Frodo?" Cress guessed uncertainly.

"Who are you, and how do you know my name?" the hobbit demanded, still clutching the fireworks he had wrestled out of Cress' grip. Then, he appeared to do a double take when he saw the She-Elf's face.

Cress, realizing that she had made a mistake, hastily lowered her flute from its threatening position. "I am Cress, Elf student of Gandalf," she said as friendlily as she could. "I'm sorry. I mistook you for someone else. These party favors do rightfully belong to you. I was merely helping in delivering them to the party grounds." She took a step back from Frodo.

"So Gandalf's here?" the hobbit asked excitedly.

"Yes, he's inside the hobbit-hole, having tea with Bilbo."

Frodo studied her for a moment, "And did you say you were an Elf?"

Cress nodded, "Yes, I am. And if you're planning on taking those fireworks to the site of Mr. Bilbo Baggins' birthday party, I will be glad to help you with the task."

"Er… Right," Frodo said, glancing over the contents of the wagon.

The She-Elf stashed away her flute, swiftly took an armful of fuses and fireworks, and marched past Frodo, leading him to the place where the party tent will be set up.

The hobbit followed closely behind her, also carrying armloads of party supplies. "What did you mean when you said you're a 'student' of Gandalf?"

"It means," Cress replied. "that Gandalf educates me. I travel with him and learn what I must know in order to become a sorceress. I met him many years ago when I still lived in the forest. As far as I know, I think I am the only pupil he has ever taken."

"Just wait till Sam hears about this," Frodo said heartily.

"Sam? Who is Sam?"

"His father is Bilbo's gardener. He's a good friend of mine and has an interest in Elves. I think he wants to see an Elf more than anything in the world."

"Does he?" Cress set the fireworks on the grassy meadow and turned back toward Bilbo's house to pick up some more. "Have you ever seen an Elf before me?"

Frodo shook his head, "No, they don't usually come here. I'd say most of the folk around here are scared of them. Elves are adventurous and hobbits are a quiet, peaceful race."

"Then I suppose your friend Sam is a special little hobbit, isn't he?" Cress asked with a knowing smile.

The two continued to talk and exchange stories as they moved the party supplies, little by little, from the wagon to the meadow. By the time they were done, Gandalf and Bilbo came finished their tea time and came out to see that the party tent was ready to be raised, the decorations were ready to be hung, and the fireworks were ready to be set on fire.

A crowd of hobbits from all over Hobbiton had gathered at the meadow to gawk at Gandalf's supplies. Then, they started helping with the tent and the decorations. At this, Cress decided that hobbits were pleasant and merry folk after all. And that she would greatly enjoy her stay at the Shire.