Dancing had never been one of Ruby's strong points. She didn't particularly enjoy it in the forms she saw most often, that being slow-dancing and a boring waltz. There was too much room for error, and one had to put a ridiculous amount of trust in a partner that was as likely to lead a graceful twirl as they were to drop their counterpart. Even at Beacon's inter-semester ball, Ruby had stubbornly refused to participate, though she would admit - and only to herself - that the dance routine Team JNPR had performed had looked to be a lot of fun.

She discovered, rather wonderfully, that dancing with Hobbits was the exact opposite of everything she had previously thought the activity to be.

Her plate practically licked clean, Ruby had been contentedly enjoying watching those swinging and spinning on the matted grass before her when the Green Dragon's barmaid had appeared donning the brightest smile the young girl had ever seen.

"Come on, Ruby!" Rosie said in amid her giggling, taking a gentle hold of her arms and hoisting her out of her chair with startling ease. Ruby attempted to shy away, feeling quite uncomfortable. She had barely recovered from her encounter with the Sackville-Baggins woman, and she wasn't keen on making a fool of herself. She didn't know how, not to mention she would look utterly ridiculous towering above everyone else. Then again, that didn't seem to have stopped Gandalf…

"Oh, n-no Rosie, I-I don't dan- EEP!" Despite her best efforts, the last portion of her protest was lost to a yelp as she was thrust into the middle of the dancers and, her superior height notwithstanding, swept up by a stranger.

Ruby gave a slight huff as Rosie's tinkling laughter echoed in her ears, swearing silently that she would get her back for it later, though was quickly forced to focus on not stepping on the Hobbit - mercifully only a few inches shorter than herself - who had taken her as an impromptu partner. Managing this was no simple task, and the man seemed to get the hint, as he gave her a reassuring smile and slowed. A moment later, and Ruby found herself on her own, once again at the edge of the dancing. She was grateful for it, if a little disappointed.

Putting the insane tempo of the music out of mind, Ruby took a brief second to gather her bearings, and to glance at the movements of those around her. She was intrigued to discover that there was no rhythm or method to the dance - it was purely wild and energetic, everyone moving in a distinctly different way while keeping in time with the beat. I guess it doesn't look that hard, she mused.

She watched anxiously for a long minute. It did look fun, and easier now that she somewhat understood that it wasn't something you necessarily needed to think about. Before she could lose her courage completely, she took a deep breath, and delved into the fray.

Shoving aside the urge to freeze, pushing her inhibitions and worry of embarrassment to the recesses of her mind, she let go - of her worry, of her fear of judgement, of her uncertainty and doubts - and allowed herself to be spun and shuffled along to the lively beat of the music. Her laughter, giddy and breathless, was stolen away as the world passed in dizzying blurs of color. Dancing - at least, dancing like this - Ruby decided, was thrilling in its unpredictability. Never knowing her footing or what she would do next, relying on a random stranger to keep her moving. She did step on a few feet, though her clumsiness was brushed off far easier than it would have been anywhere else.

She twirled on the ball of her foot, hair whipping with the motion, and flailed, briefly losing her balance. She managed to recover with most of her grace in tact and, taking a moment to straighten herself, fell back into step. If Yang could see me now, she thought, feeling a swell of pride and joy. She was doing it - she was dancing, in a crowd of people who at that moment couldn't have cared less if she was out of place, and enjoying it.

The music slowed, the band striking its final note, and Ruby stumbled into open air with adrenaline still pounding in her head. The dancers gathered cheered, a few calling for another piece. Lightheaded, she plopped onto the ground and crossed her legs, a happy smile cemented on her expression.

"Ruby!"

Turning aside as her name was called, her grin brightened. Frodo halted at her side, his smile mirroring hers, "There you are. Where did you disappear off to this time?" Ruby simply hummed, a speculative gleam in her eye that made Frodo smirk, "Oh, I know that look."

"I have a look?"

The question levelled his way in the most sarcastically innocent tone possible had Frodo chuckling as he nodded, "It's your 'I've gotten into trouble again' look," he replied. Ruby said nothing, merely waggling her eyebrows in a mischievous sort of way. "Are you not going to tell me?"

"Mmm," Ruby feigned serious thought, quirking her head to one side, "Nope!"

"What are you u-"

Suddenly, a nearby tent exploded with a deep, resounding BOOM, and the canvas was wrenched from its guy lines. Rightly startled, Ruby and Frodo turned in almost perfect sync, eyes wide. A collective gasp arose as the firework, still encased by the tent, raced into the sky, rocketing above the tree line. The magical pyrotechnic burst, casting fiery trails outward across the night sky.

So, they figured it out. Ruby beamed as she got to her feet, applauding in delight and pride. However, her smile faded as a dragon's face developed from the exploding firework, wings forming as it swooped back down toward the crowd. She and Frodo shared an alarmed look as everyone began to panic, in all likelihood believing that the enchanted design would hit the ground, and the pair were submerged in the fray.

Ruby nearly lost sight of Frodo as the mass of Hobbits rushed past, breaking around her like she was little more than an obstruction to the flow. She knew it was doubtful that the firework would actually do any harm, though she couldn't exactly blame people for being frightened of something that looked so realistic. Dragons were a reality in Remnant, however rare, and more often than not they were Grimm.

Throwing herself to the ground and covering her head, the firework swooped over, just barely missing those who had the wherewithal to do the same. It fizzed and crackled in showers of sparks across the lake before finally, and safely, exploding in a dazzling array of vibrant hues on the horizon. Their fear alleviated, the Hobbits clapped and cheered and brushed themselves off.

It took a few moments to get everything sorted, but the party quickly resumed as normal, the band starting back up and people excitedly chatting about how incredible magic really was when used for such things. Ruby was inclined to agree. That had been incredible, if a bit heart attack inducing. Her thoughts strayed to Merry and Pippin, and she realized that she should probably make sure that the pair were alright.

Skirting by those calming themselves or setting tables back up, she headed for the source of the commotion. She arrived in time to see a very perplexed Gandalf leading the soot-dusted duo toward a washing tent, where she rightly imagined they be set to tidying up as punishment for their antics. Feeling rather guilty about her own involvement, Ruby wandered over, and came to lean carefully on her elbows on one of the tables.

"Why hello, Miss Ruby," Merry piped up, noticing her before she could put a word in edgewise. He didn't appear too pleased with the consequences beset them, but he did afford her a smile.

"Hi Merry," Ruby giggled, then cast him a sidelong look. "You two didn't hurt yourselves, did you? Do you need any-"

Pippin deposited a stack of clean dishes on the table with a huff. "Oh no, Miss Ruby. Right as rain we are, right Merry?" The former nodded, and winked at Ruby, who smirked.

"Yes. I believe we've got this handled," Merry agreed.

Shouts of, 'Speech!' came from the crowd, causing Ruby to glance over her shoulder. Waving to the troublemakers, she called out a farewell as she hurried back to where people had collected. She still felt like she should be helping Merry and Pippin, but they seemed to have things sorted, and didn't appear as though they particularly minded either.

Ruby and Frodo settled themselves at a table, applause rising as Bilbo clambered up onto an upright cask of ale, overlooking those gathered from his higher vantage point.

"My dear Bagginses and Boffins!" A collective cheer from those named, tankards lifted in returned acknowledgement. "Tooks and Brandybucks! Grubbs, Chubbs, Hornblowers, Bulgers, Bracegirdles, and Proudfoots!

"Proudfeet!" A large Hobbit repeated much to the amusement of the partygoers, his legs propped up on the table before him. Bilbo waved him off with a huff of exasperation, which only made those gathered laugh anew.

"Today is my One Hundred and Eleventh birthday! Or, I should say: our birthday. For it is, of course, also the birthday of my heir and nephew, Frodo!" Some scattered clapping came from the elders, and gleeful cheers from the younger ones. Ruby leaned over on the bench and gave Frodo as big a hug as she could manage from her position, which he returned with a happy chuckle.

"Alas, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits. I don't know half of you half as well as I should like and I like less than half of you, half as well as you deserve." The excitement of the crowd faded to confused silence, several Hobbits exchanging glances at the peculiar nature of the statement that few actually understood. Ruby gave Frodo an amused shrug, while trying to determine herself whether or not it was meant to be a compliment.

The observers waited for him to continue, though when he did, he sounded quite unsure of himself, "I, er…" Bilbo slid a hand discreetly into his pocket - or, at least, it would have been discreet but for the fact that there was nothing else to focus on. "I have things to do…"

Ruby, concerned, began to rise, but a gentle tug on her wrist had her settling again. Frodo gave his head a shake, offering a somewhat forced smile, the message in his expression plain; whatever Bilbo was up to, it was best just to leave it be. Still, Ruby couldn't help but bite her lip in worry as she watched his curious behaviour - something was wrong, and it was palpable.

"I've put this off for far too long," Bilbo finally said, in a serious tone that she had almost never heard before. Whispers arose from the masses at the odd shift in atmosphere, and Ruby cast Frodo another anxious look, "I regret to announce This is the end. I'm going now. I bid you all a very fond farewell." Bilbo, finally, caught her gaze, his own skipping for a moment between her and Frodo before a steady smile turned the corners of his mouth upward, "Goodbye."

With not one word more, Bilbo disappeared before their eyes in a flash, leaving the space he had been occupying not a blink earlier vacant. The Hobbits reacted with astonished gasps and murmurs, a few grumbles of 'Shouldn't come as no surprise' and 'Just like the old coot, that is' filtering above the general shock.

Frodo turned to Ruby, but the young girl was already gone, a burst of rose petals fluttering to the ground in her wake.

The speed boost her Semblance afforded her diminishing with another wave of sweet-smelling flowers, Ruby slowed as she leapt the fence lining the Party Field, the lights of the festivities and ruckus of shocked Hobbits fading behind her. Breath coming out in labored puffs, head beating wildly in time with her heart, she tried to make sense of what she had just seen. He had disappeared - just like that, right before her eyes. She'd never seen a Semblance able to perform such a feat, much less something in Middle-earth. Then again, her knowledge was limited, despite her resolve to read anything she could get her hands on.

It wasn't so much how Bilbo had vanished as why he had - what could he possibly be up to? He can't be leaving, Ruby thought, turning onto the incline of Hill Lane. Her pace regressed to a brisk walk. What if he was planning on leaving? Where was he going? And why? Why would he want to leave the Shire - in all its beauty and tranquility - behind? Why would anyone?

These questions swirling in her mind, overwhelming her with anxiety, she continued her hike toward Bag End. From the field at her back erupted several pops and whizzes - more fireworks were being set off, in all likelihood to appease the guests. She watched absentmindedly as vibrant colors reflected off the dew-strewn grass, appearing and disappearing in rapid succession.

She would, she resolved, be able to talk him out of it. He had to stay - Frodo needed him. As surprising as it was to admit, she had grown to need him. He had been so kind to her; welcomed her, as a complete stranger, into his home and allowed her to stay. He'd never called her crazy, or doubted her confession of coming from a different world.

If she was honest, though, her reason for wanting him to stay in Hobbiton was quite selfish.

Ruby didn't want to lose someone else.

What if I can't? She wondered all of a sudden, silver eyes following the shadowed shuffling of her feet on the compact dirt of the road. She figured that, if she couldn't, he would at least explain to her why he wanted to go. That in mind, she bunched her skirts in one hand and took off at a jog, kicking up dust and loose gravel with each step.

Rounding the Hill, Ruby skidded to a stop outside the gate. She laid a hand on the fence picket, intent on heading inside. What it was that made her glance back, she wasn't sure, but she did nonetheless, and in the glow of the moonlight, she caught sight of a figure retreating down in the opposite direction from the one she had just come.

"Bilbo!" She called, racing to catch up. The Hobbit - indeed Bilbo - paused, startled, and turned as she approached. His smile was bittersweet; he should have known that she would be the one to catch up, and the one not to let him go without a word. Ruby halted, chest heaving irregularly as she attempted to catch her breath. Her relieved expression sank almost immediately as she took in his appearance - specifically, the pack slung over his shoulder,

"You are leaving."

It was a statement, rather than a question. Shifting his weight uncomfortably, Bilbo stamped his walking stick into the ground twice and avoided her gaze, "Yes. Yes, my dear, I am."

"Why?"

"I - It's a dreadfully complicated thing, my girl, and I'm afraid not something I can put into words."

"Will you come back?"

Bilbo shook his head, "I shouldn't think so, no." Regardless of her efforts to remain calm, Ruby could do nothing to ease the pin-pricking sensation that took to assaulted her vision. Seeing this, Bilbo frowned and put a comforting hand on her arm,

"There now, Ruby, don't fret. Walk with me?"

Blinking away her unshed tears, Ruby nodded and took up station beside him as he continued along his path toward the Frog Pond. Though still within view, the sounds of the party were distant, and becoming quieter with each passing minute as they ambled on in the relative silence of the night air. It became clear to Ruby quickly that Bilbo wanted to avoid being seen by anyone, and have the unpleasant business of explaining himself. He wanted to slip away into the darkness - quick, and quiet, and on a road that she assumed was familiar to him.

"One hundred and eleven years I've lived in the Shire," he spoke softly, though so suddenly that Ruby nearly jumped. He grinned up at her, full this time, "You know, the stories you told Frodo and I reminded me of my own? Fifty or so years past, now, but I remember it as though it were yesterday. When one lives in a place all their lives, then suddenly gets whisked off into something they never imagined possible, it's quite an extraordinary thing. But when they return, it's… not quite the same, my dear. I have longed to see the mountains again, and not just in my books and maps."

Ruby nodded slowly, "I understand."

She did, to an extent. When she had learned that Yang would be attending Beacon - finally leaving Patch for more than a day or two - she had wanted nothing more than to do the same. She had lived on that island all her life, so she could relate to gradually growing to find some place dull as a result of seeing everything there was to see, and doing everything there was to do, and longing for something - anything - else. But more than that, she realized that this was, really and truly, what Bilbo wanted. Whether she liked it or not, she wasn't going to dissuade him - nor did she necessarily want to any longer - and she would just have to accept it.

Soon, she heard the current of the Bywater gurgling softly beneath the stones of the bridge, and Bilbo stooped to fetch a lantern from his pack. When he straightened, it was lit, and in the flickering light she could see Bilbo's face properly. He looked a little older than he had earlier, and perhaps a little wearier, but his eyes were bright and it seemed as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "You'll be alright," he reassured. He hesitated a moment, then tilted his head, "My girl, if I may ask one favor?"

"Oh! Yeah, anything!" Ruby managed to mirror his smile, regardless of the sadness in her heart.

"That, there," he gestured to her carefully with his stick, "Your smile. Do not ever lose it. There is too much evil in this world, Ruby, and one often finds themselves smiling less and less and not knowing the reason why. And do remember, my dear - you will find your friends. I have no doubt of that."

Pressing her lips together in a last-ditch effort to not allow her emotions to boil over, Ruby crouched and threw her arms around her friend. Bilbo returned the embrace, albeit a little awkwardly. Both remained like that, in the silence, for some time before Ruby drew back, "Thank you," she forced past the lump in her throat, hoping she sounded as sincere as she felt. "For... well, for everything."

Bilbo offered her one last smile, then turned, and wandered off into the dark. "Be careful, Bilbo!" Ruby called, watching his swaying lantern shrink, "And, uh… good luck!"

If he made a reply, she never heard it. He and his light were swallowed up by the night, leaving Ruby squatting on the Bywater Bridge. She stayed, rooted to the spot, for what felt like hours but in reality was perhaps a quarter of that time. Then, heaving a trembling sigh, she passed a hand over her eyes, straightened, and, with one final look at the winding road beyond the Bywater, began her trudge back to Bag End.