"Bilbo Baggins!" Came a shriek from down the hill.

The aforementioned (shrieked) hobbit's eyes sprung open, before quickly grabbing a pillow to cover her eyes from the mid-morning light streaming in from her window.

"Bother that Lobelia," Bilbo growled into her pillow. Throwing her quilt from her, she reached for her robe, knowing the impropriety of her dress at that time of morning would bother her cousin-to-be. As she was tying a knot around her, there came a pounding at her round, yellow door.

"Bilbo!" Came the shriek again. "Bilbo!"

She waited patiently at her door until the pounding had ceased, and she could only tell the banshee outside her doorstep was still there due to the increasingly loud whistle-like huffing noises the younger hobbit's nose was making (not unlike the sound her kettle made at breakfast, elevensies, tea(s), and before bed). When it sounded like she might boil over again and return to her screaming, Bilbo flung the door open cheerfully.

"Lobelia!" she said, ushering her inside. "My dear, you mustn't be afraid to knock a bit louder, I could hardly hear you! After that last battle, you know, the one from a few years back, I'm afraid I've gone rather deaf in this ear." She gestured to her right ear. It wasn't a lie, she had lost a bit of hearing after being struck in the head by a rock on the battlefield, but she only mentioned it because she knew how much the very idea of a relative being improper (even only a relative by marriage) annoyed the Bracegirdles.

Lobelia opened her mouth to snap a reply, her face going red, before Bilbo thrust an old, not at all presentable to guests and therefore perfect for this situation, into her hands. "Have a cup of tea." She turned to set her kettle on.

"Don't you play coy with me, Bilbo." She seethed. "You know perfectly well that you haven't yet RSVP'd to your cousin and I's wedding next month.

Looking at her calendar, Bilbo acted shocked. "Dear me, is it truly coming up so soon?" She ran her finger along the dates before stopping at a few days prior. "No, no, I'm quite sure this was the day. 'Sent back invitation to L.'" She turned back to her kettle, pouring herself a cuppa, and filling Lobelia's mug.

"I'm sure I have no idea how it could have gotten lost again, really, we must speak to Rosco. This is, what, the third invitation lost through the post?" She sat down in her own armchair, smiling to herself from behind a sip of tea.

The letter in question had in fact gone missing yesterday morning, if one considered 'gone missing' as 'used as kindling for breakfast's fire'.

The future Mrs. Baggins sat fuming, her tea untouched. "The fourth. Really, Bilbo, you haven't been the same since your little...holiday. You haven't even offered me a thing to eat, and it's just hit elevensies! What would your poor father think of these manners?"

"Ah, yes! Please forgive me, I don't know where my mind could be this morning, I do believe I have some lemon cake, fresh baked, around here..." Bilbo stood up, going to her table, and delicately placed a slice of lemon cake she had made more than a week ago. It was just reaching the perfect stage of staleness where no one would blame her for being rude, but would hopefully be unpleasant enough to ward off any other unexpected visits from distant relations. She tried to keep a few slices of such things around, hobbits she hardly knew always seemed to pop up, snooping around for a few of 'mad Baggins'' treasure.

She pushed the 'treat' into Lobelia's hands, grabbing her own poppy seed cake, which she actually had just made. "I do apologize, for the invitation, the first one was sent in November, wasn't it?"

"September" came the muffled reply. Lobelia was fighting her own battle against the stale cake, struggling to get a bite that couldn't be pleasant down.

Bilbo paused, frowning as she bit into her own cake. She actually hadn't received one before November...had she? She was quite sure the first had been four months back.

"At any rate, I decided to take the liberty to hand deliver this one to you." Lobelia handed Bilbo a thick envelope, written in a horrible mauve colored ink. Bilbo gave a discreet sniff. Lobelia had even, apparently, sprayed the invitation with her perfume she had had delivered from Bree that she insisted smelled lovely, but to most others smelled rather like turned turnips.

To: Dear Guest

You are cordially invited to the marriage of

L. Bracegirdle and B. Baggins on April the 6th, 2895

She grimaced, wondering how her cousin Bingo could marry such a hobbit.

Bilbo sighed, trapped between Lobelia's stubbornness and her father's teachings of polite manners in the worst of company. Even after the adventure she had gone on, and the Took side of her heritage raising its head, she was still A Baggins. She slid the envelope open, and reached for a quill. Quite reluctantly, she checked the box 'will be attending', ignoring the additional 'with a plus one' box underneath.

Lobelia grabbed the card back with what could only be described as a smirk.

"And with that, I really must excuse myself. I have a great many of errands to do, and the day awaits." She near pushed her 'guest' out of her chair and to the door.

"I really look...forward to your presence, of course. If you are wondering about a gift, I know your cousin has always admired that west farthing silverware of yours..." Lobelia hinted, lying through her teeth. Everyone on this side of the Brandywine knew that Lobelia had an eye (and quick fingers) for the Baggins' silverware.

"Quite right," Bilbo said firmly. "I will have to keep that in mind. Have a pleasant day, Lobelia."

She slammed the door firmly behind her, sighing. This day had had such promise. And now she had April to look forward to. She really did hate weddings. They reminded her of him, and she hated thinking of him.

Back in September

"Rosco, old fellow!" Came a booming voice, nearly causing the old hobbit to jump out of his hairy feet. He turned up, looking as an old man in a blue hat looked down on him.

"Do let me take that for you, that hill is quite steep, and I was on my way to visit Ms. Baggins anyways." Before Rosco could even open his mouth to argue, not that he would of course, arguing with a wizard topped his list of 'unpleasant things', Gandalf had grasped the stack of letters from his hand. On the top was an invitation written in mauve.

If Rosco's eyes had been a bit better, he would have seen the wizard slip said invitation in his sleeve before knocking at Bag End, and handing the rest of the letters to Ms. Bilbo. And none of the hobbits in Hobbiton could possibly know that Gandalf was on his way to the Kingdom Under the Mountain, with that very invitation still in his possession.

Authors Note: Thank you guys so much for your nice comments! Keep them coming, please!