Chapter Five: Of Bagginses, Tooks, and Brandybucks

Written by Carithawen

Writer's notes: This is written from the original movie AND I've kicked it up a notch with some of my own stuff, more so than the past few chapters of mine (finally!)!

BOOM! Dozens upon dozens of multi-colored fireworks lit up the sky, and after each one exploded, every hobbit at Bilbo's party cheered loudly. Indeed, twas the night of the long-expected party, and about half of the population of hobbit guests were dancing merrily to the music.

Bilbo was off to the side of the large get-together, welcoming several guests, most of them all at once. "Hello, hello! Oh, Fatty Bolger! Lovely to see you! Welcome, welcome!"

Frodo was seated at one of the many dozens of tables set up. Next to him was his best comrade, not to mention best gardener, Samwise Gamgee, a hobbit about Frodo's age who lived down the road with his old Gaffer. He noticed Sam, as he was often called, observing Rosie Cotton, a lady hobbit, who was dancing among the others. "Go on, Sam, ask Rosie for a dance!"

Sam turned his head to glance at Frodo shyly. "I… I-I think I'll just have another ale."

Frodo smirked, and before Sam could go anywhere, he grabbed the standing hobbit from behind. "Oh, no you don't! Go on!" And he gave him a shove right into the dancing crowd, and, miraculously, right into Rosie. Without stopping her dancing, Rosie took hold of Sam's hands and they started to dance together. Frodo only laughed gleefully.

And there, off to another side of the party site, was the master of the evening's entertainment himself, Gandalf, who let off a bright blue firework, which opened out over party site.

Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, known simply as 'Merry' and 'Pippin' to their friends, and cousins of Frodo, sat at a table, each having a mug of the Gaffer's famous home brew. Merry was scanning the crowd, and Pippin took another sip from his mug. Suddenly, with his eyes still on the crowd, Merry rapidly patted Pippin's shoulder, causing him to nearly choke on the brew. "Ay, Pip, there she is!"

Pippin looked around from over the brim of his mug, then placed it down on the tabletop again. "Who? Who?"

Merry turned to face him, whispering. "It's Elfindel."

Pippin nearly choked. "S-She's come back to the Shire?"

Merry nodded. "She's right over there…" He pointed to a lady taller than all the hobbits, and Pippin followed his gaze.

It was the Elf maiden… She was there… no, here! In the Shire again! Pippin sat staring at her, his eyes softening. For Bilbo's birthday, she had brought with her a beautiful ivory Elven gown, much different from the forest-colored travelling outfit that he was accustomed to seeing her in. And he just stared… finding himself oblivious to everything around him. She was gracefully dancing among the hobbits, her face enlightened with the gentle smile that she wore. She had kept her hair in the Elven fashion that she usually wore it in, but it still seemed as if it danced when it swung about very gently with her every movement…

Merry held a goofy smile when he watched her for several seconds, but not as immensely long as Pippin, who was still staring at her with soft eyes when Merry turned to him. He noticed Pippin looking rather distant. "Pippin?" No answer. "Pippin…?" He waved his hand in front of him. A gentle smile formed on Pippin's face as he still didn't tear his eyes from her. "PIPPIN!" he exclaimed, shaking his shoulder. Pippin blinked and quickly turned to him, his face snapping back to reality. Merry made a face, folding his arms across his chest. "Pippin, you're obviously still enchanted by her."

Pippin looks at him, feigning surprise. "I-…Is it that obvious?"

Merry nodded slowly. "Of course it is…" He motioned with his head towards Elfindel, who was now sitting at a table on the other side of the dancing hobbits. "Why don't you do somethin' about it, eh?"

Pippin's eyes widened slightly. "…What?"

"Come on—" Merry stood up, grabbing Pippin by the back of the collar of his shirt, dragging him into the crowd of dancing hobbits. When Pippin saw that Merry was leading him closer to Elfindel, he gasped, and tried to pull away in the other direction. It was a comical sight.

Merry turned to observe the sheepish Pippin. "Pippin!" He tried to pull him back. "What's wrong with you?"

Pippin turned his head to the side to speak to Merry, his feet still moving in the opposite direction. "Merry, I can't talk to her!" he cried out. "Please!"

"I've never seen you act this way before!" Merry commented. "Be a Took, and come—on!" He tugged forcefully at Pippin's collar, sending him reeling backwards in a spin, past Merry, past all the dancing hobbits that moved quickly out of the way when they saw him coming—

And right into the sitting Elfindel, who gave a startled jump as the spinning Took touched the side of her lap, as a result falling stomach-first onto her lap. Elfindel looks down, first noticing that the hobbit's hair and style of clothing looked very familiar. "Pippin…?"

Pippin sadly and sheepishly pulled himself away from the soft Elven fabric of her gown's skirt, standing up slowly, his eyes lowered to the ground, for fear if they lingered on her again, he would loose sense of reality again.

Elfindel observed his lowered, saddened face for a long moment, and she surprised him when she spoke… without a slight hint of anger in her voice, but with comfort. "Can I see those eyes, Pippin…?"

Pippin froze, and took a long while before he slowly raised his head to look at her. He was somewhat relieved to find gentle, comforting eyes looking back at him, along with an even gentler grin. He was slowly delving back into dreamland. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Would you like to sit with me, Pippin…?"

Pippin looked at her, ready to jump into the empty seat at her table, but since she was an Elf, he still wanted to act at least a bit civilized. "You… you want me to sit here?"

Elfindel nodded, her gentle grin never fading. "If it is not a problem, I would ask you to…" She motioned to the empty chair.

Pippin knew of nothing better to do than to accept her offer, and that's exactly what he did, feeling more relieved than ever.

When Merry glanced at Elfindel from his original table about 10 minutes later, she and Pippin were engaged in lighthearted conversation. When Elfindel began telling Pippin about the latest occurrences in Rivendell, Pippin listened intently, seemingly dreamy, his chin in his hand, his elbow of that arm resting on the table, a gentle grin on his face.

Merry grinned victoriously. Things were working out.