Daisy Gamgee, despite her desperate wishes to be on an exhilarating adventure in far off lands, was not immune to the buzzing excitement generated by the residents of Hobbiton. It was a steady build of anticipation like the climbing of a hill until finally one reached the peak, the unbearable few steps until it was possible to pear over the crest and then run joyously down the other side. When the invitations were sent out and outlandish creatures began popping into Bag-end loaded with parcels and coming out empty handed the exhilaration accelerated to such a speed that Daisy could hardly keep her composure. The last few days leading up to Bilbo Baggins party were unbearable and savory at the same time. It was after all Daisy's first party as a lady-well, sort of; and they all said it was to be such a party.

At last the twenty second of September arrived and every hobbit that was any hobbit made their way over in bustling bunches to what was expected to be one of the grandest celebrations held for a long while. Daisy left early, her ears tingling and her eyes twinkling with excitement, to escort the children to Bilbo's gate, accompanied by Samwise and the insufferable Reginard Took, to Daisy's dismay.

For as every hobbit knew, by Reginard's gloating and the fairly stunning amber ring glistening on Daisy's finger, the two were to be wed come spring. The Gaffer was overjoyed; of course, any gardening father would be pleased to see his eldest daughter marry a respectable well to do. Sure, Reginard was of high class and Daisy admitted he was certainly strikingly handsome, but he was as dull as only a gentlehobbit by the name of Reginard could be. But she smiled while other hobbits wished her congratulations and tried to bear Reginard's lengthy lectures on Hobbiton's history and the harvest of Longbottom leaf and other dreadful subjects of that nature.

"Greetings young Gamgees! I am so delighted you could come. Reginard old chap, you are looking well and soon to be Mrs. Reginard, splendid! Enjoy yourselves!" beamed Bilbo while he handed them all gifts. He was obviously as excited as any of the young hobbits who proceeded to run squealing towards Gandalf, tearing the paper from their oddly shaped parcels as they went.

"Why hello Bilbo, Merry Birthday to you!" said Daisy distantly. She had always admired Bilbo and was determined to make the best of the situation.

She steered Reginard through the gates and Sam muttered something about something or other and made his way over to the keg. She felt a little childish and cheerful while ripping the paper off her present and Reginard looked haughty and bored. She noticed a charming roughly hewn flute in his hands, and then the events around her ceased to be of any importance. Daisy unwrapped a small apple shaped fruit which had a sparking remarkable and inexplicable quality about it which cast shadows onto all the other gifts she had ever received or envied. Daisy pocketed instinctively before Reginard could inquire, not that he was apt to be interested in anything as interesting as party gifts.

"Be careful Daisy Gamgee, a bite may just give you what you wish but it will never bring you peace and happiness."

Daisy turned quickly to see the speaker of the gruff whispered warning in her ear and saw only a swish of a grey cloak around the corner. She shuddered; Gandalf had always frightened her a little although she would never admit it.

Daisy glanced hopefully at the food table and the dance floor, but Reginard had already sat down at a table with a very drunk Sandyman and a Bucklander whose eyelids were starting to droop. Daisy stepped towards their table with a sigh and resignation to the boredom awaiting her, but then impulsively ran over to where the other young hobbits were dancing and merrymaking. If this were to be one of her last outings as a girl, then she might as well make the most of it.

She laughed full heartedly as the hobbits whirled around and nimbly tapped their toes to the singing of Nibbs Cotton's bow. Daisy spun dizzily from partner to partner as though her very heart beat in time with Nibbs' fiddle. She was flung from the hands of her bumbling brother Sam into the grasp and gaze of Mr. Frodo which made Daisy blush furiously without reason.

"Hullo Miss Daisy!" he said with a grin, "How do you do?"

"Well, thank you."

Daisy willed Nibbs to keeping playing, she did not want the song to ever end, but it did. Frodo conjured two slices of cake, seemingly from nowhere and asked Daisy to sit with him and watch the fireworks. It was agony to say no to his sweet face and his eyes which were anything but dull, she wondered fretfully if he knew about Reginard and her. For the first time in her life, she was glad to see Reginard when he made his way over; only because he would say no on her behalf, to the life in which she felt she belonged.

"Frodo Baggins, hello. Daisy and I are to be wed...Oh you didn't know? How odd. Well goodbye." Reginard put rejection as plainly as a daisy puts beauty.

"Thank you for the dance Mr. Frodo" she added for his sake, if not for her own because Reginard looked furious at her. Frodo looked a little crestfallen, and Daisy attempted to figure out if she was imagining it or not.

The main party was called into the tent for Bilbo's speech and Reginard suggested that they leave, now that the food was almost done for. Daisy accepted, feeling the night was for the most part a grand success, ignoring Reginard's growling about frivolity and irresponsibility. He walked her to her front steps like a true gentlehobbit and kissed her on her cheek like polite a distant cousin twice removed might.

She entered her dark hole with the same feeling in which she left it. She fell onto her feather tick and let out a sigh, it was not long before she fell asleep smiling. Not because of her stomach which was full of good things, the joy of the party and her mysterious gift (which she has all but forgotten at this point) or the kiss from Reginard. Daisy was not quite sure what it was, but she knew the last face she saw before she drifted off into a dreamless hobbit sleep, was that of Frodo Baggins.