AN: I don't own any of the Hobbit characters I am just taking them out of Tolkien's toy box and playing with them.

Eleven Ladies Dancing.

Lying beneath the large willow in Beorn's lands and listening to Bofur start a merry tune on his flute Bilbo was content. If he closed his eyes he could even see the Party Tree and the hobbits swirling around him in dance and laughter.

Bofur's tune petered off and Bilbo blinked back to awareness and offered his friend a wry smile. Bofur was looking at him curiously and so he shrugged, "Just thinking of the last solstice party I was at."

Bofur tilted his head, "solstice party?"

"Yes Bofur," Bilbo coughed slightly, "It is not just dwarves who celebrate you know."

"I didn't mean that Bilbo and you know it." Now the miner was pouting and Bilbo chuckled.

"I know, I know. I was just teasing." Raising an eyebrow he noticed Ori lurking, "Come on Ori if you sit with us I'll tell you all about it."

The young dwarf blushed and stumbled over to them, sinking down next to Bofur with a nervous smile. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop Bilbo, I was just caught up in a Bofur's music and then you started to talk about parties and I've never really been to one."

"Oh lad," Bilbo couldn't help but sigh as Bofur wrapped a comforting arm around Ori's shoulders. "Right then do you want me to tell you?"

Ori nodded excitedly and Bofur grinned at him so Bilbo sighed and gathered his thoughts. "Now bear in mind we hobbits like simple pleasures. Good food, good drink, a nice smoke and pleasant company. Our Solstice parties are a time for us all to get together and enjoy all those things with music, dancing and laughter. In the centre of Hobbiton there is a huge tree that has become known as the Party Tree and it is in the field around this tree that our celebrations take place. The preparations begin days in advance, but it isn't until the large marquee is put up around the tree that things really kick off. The villages are filled with the smells of cooking and the sound of carts rumbling to and from the tree. Solstice day begins early, we string bunting from poles and hang lanterns from it so as to light the night. A fire pit is built and tables and benches spring up around the field. Musicians come from the four corners of the Shire and the day is filled with the sound of their practicing. When the field is set up, tables groaning under the weight of food and the barrels of ale, mead and wine in place we rush home to ready ourselves."

He paused and grinned at Ori who was hanging on his every word, Bofur seemed as entranced and Bilbo realised with a pang his dwarves would probably not have been able to celebrate in such a fashion for many a year. "I tell you what, if I make it home when we take back your mountain you are all invited. Now where was I?"

Ori yelped a little in excitement and Bofur beamed, yet that was all the notice they took of Bilbo's statement. "I believe you were about to start describing the party Bilbo."

"Thank you Bofur. Well we all go out of our way to dress to impress. Dresses, jackets and trousers all of the best materials we can make. Lasses in flower colours and the lads in every shade of foliage you can imagine. I myself normally wear a deep brown and bronze. As the night starts to fall we make our way to the celebrations and music is already flowing on the breeze. The lanterns will have been lit and glow in shades of red, purple and green, while the fire dances, creating shapes of gold, orange and red and throwing shadows all around. We are normally lucky and the stars gleam overhead and the moon lights the scene. In summer the land is green and lush, while in winter we are surrounded by the sparkling beauty of snow and frost. The marquee sides of pale green silk flutter gently in the night air and the tables inside groan with the weight of the food. My favourite part of the night is not the food, nor the drinking, nor even the tales spun by the older hobbits. No my favourite part of the night is when the music picks up proper and we dance. Lads and lasses swirl around the grass in a jig or a figure dance. The lasses' skirts swirling around them as we clasp hands and dance till our cheeks glow, our breath is short and the sun paints the horizon in shades of the palest pinks."

He drew a breath and smiled widely at the two dwarves in front of him. "You have seen nothing until you see the eleven sisters of Took dance the ceilidh. Curls bouncing around their shoulders and petticoats flashing white under there skirts of coloured velvet."

Ori leant against Bofur's side with a wide smile that the miner copied. "It sounds wonderful Bilbo. So full of life and colour and females."

Bilbo's lips twitched and that was enough to set them off. When Dori and Bombur came in search of their kin they found Bilbo trying to teach a breathless Ori the Acharuli, while Bofur rolled on the floor in laughter.