The music of many fiddles filled the great hall, and all the cold white lawn outside. Small lanterns were hung down long ropes strung out across the green, sparkling down onto the white snow. There was good food, hearty laughter, and loud storytelling.
Gandalf was dancing with a little Hobbit lass, in the middle of a great crowd of Hobbits, all gathered to celebrate the midwinter.
Stars winked back at them, high above and far away.
The night was dark about them, but here there was light.
The fiddles paused in their tune and the little girl fled away with a toss of dark curls and a giggling laugh. Gandalf went back to his place on the edge of things, where Bilbo sat with his pipe, placidly watching the comings and goings of the guests.
The days of winter that were coming were long, and it was not out of the memory of most – the Fell Winter that had been the death of so many. But here there was light. And there was hope. And by both was made a strength that might withstand the days ahead.
Gandalf lit his pipe. He made a ring with the smoke that floated up into the sky, above the heads of the Hobbits.
Beside him, Bilbo chuckled.