The hobbits were filling into the large and abundantly decorated Took Hill, all too happy to leave their piles of presents on any of the many tables sitting by the walls. Those that weren't holding up boxes, parcels, lockets, and chests, were filled with food and drink of all sort. There was infect enough to feed a small village for a month. For a hobbit gathering however there was just plenty enough for an evening.
Looking around one could see brightly dressed residents of the Shire, representing just about every clan and family there is. Proudfoot, or Proudfeet, nobody was ever sure, LongLeefe, Took, Gamgee, Gamger, Brandybuck, Lillyfoot, Smol, and Longbottom. All are here, and all the while looking for a very particular trio to show their faces. The news that the dwarves of Bag End were showing their faces at the Winter Gathering had spread within a day, and now many lasses and lads were wearing ribbons in colors that those two exotic males were prone to wearing, hoping to entice them towards their presence.
Quite a few also donned the Bagging reds and yellows, with acorns on their spreads, just to catch the eye of the elusive Bachelor of Bag End, one young Bilbo Baggins. A truly coveted prize, due in part to his looks, in part to his age, and rather largely due to his rumored monies and land. Not a single hobbit at Took Hill tonight, save for old Grandmother Took, believed that he was not in fact rich and simply hoarding wealth, especially after being able to house two dwarves of such fine caliber.
Grandmother Took meanwhile, was sitting at the head of the grand table by the fireplace, warming her weary bones as she knitted a scarf, and chuckling at the idiocy of the younger generation. She, of all hobbits, knew best that her grandnephew was not as rich as he was told to be, at least not in possessions. He was however a well of love and adoration, ready to spill that nourishing feeling over to the one he would choose. She saw a trickle already pour down onto the tawny heads of the Tangar brothers, and the way they leaned towards her young relative, all too smitten with his generosity and acceptance. She could only wish that her lovely Bilbo would find a person worthy of his. Tonight or otherwise.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Bilbo Baggins was in the middle of a small crisis. Not even because of himself, but rather, as always lately, because of the two dwarven dunderheads that made it their priority to make sure he was truly prepared for tonight's gathering. They had inspected every darn stitch on his clothes, every button, every cufflink and silk scarf. Made absolutely sure that no more skin was shown then absolutely necessary, even making Bilbo lengthen his pants by a whole inch to show less of his legs. They frowned at the finely combed feet hair, and the trimmed nails. They scowled at his fine white vest with golden oak leaves on it, and the dark yellow shirt underneath that had intricate embroidery along the cuffs and collar. Fili damn near had a coronary at the fit of his fine red corduroy trousers that hugged him all too well in the dwarf's opinion; Kili having almost thrown a fit over the waist-synched jacket that went over the whole ensemble, being too garishly maroon in his eyes.
Never the less, both had made sure that every darn acorn adorned button was shined to perfection, the cufflinks pearlescent in the shine of the candles, and the small beads were woven tightly into hidden braids of Bilbo's hair. Upon the insistence of his houseguests and the occasional input from Bofur, Bilbo had given in and let his curls grow out a bit more then what was usual, letting then touch his shoulders just a bit, and spilling right over them when wet and heavy with moisture.
He sat patiently in front of Fili's chair, letting the nimble fingers, so used to tiny precise work, weave his strands into something that was apparently marking him as affiliated with the Durin family and showed that he was under their protection and supervision, while also marking his status as the senior one in their trio of the tonight's attendees. When Bilbo asked how a few hairs were able to show all that and how his hobbit brethren were to know all of it if even he, who spend most of his time with dwarves had no idea about it, Kili shrugged from his place on the other couch and said that it was the thought that counted. And that they would know. They of course being the brothers Durin.
By the time Fili was satisfied with his work, the Winter Gathering was already in full swing, and the three were late, thankfully within the allotted three hours of being politely late, and not the three and a half late where the guest could take it as a thinly unveiled insult.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
The Herald hobbit blew his horn, made out of a mountain goat's horn that had been met when the clans were still traveling apparently, marking the arrival of new guests, and making everyone's face turn towards the wide double doors. They opened revealing the long-awaited Baggins and Co, all of them in matching colors, adjusted to wearer's like. Bilbo with his dark ochre shirt, white and gold vest, red trousers and maroon waist coat. Fili in an ensemble of a maroon tunic and dark ochre trousers, with brown leather boots that were especially made for the occasion, coupled with a white belt. And, finally, Kili, in a white shirt with ochre trousers and a red belt, wearing the same cut boots as his brother.
The dwarves had forgone their usual green and blues tonight to better show their association with Bilbo and he was secretly very pleased with their decision. Having been rather frightened to attend without any familial support. Never you mind that the whole Took Hill were his relatives and there were plenty of Baggins-affiliated families around as well.
"Bilbo! My lovely boy, I'm so glad you made it!" came the voice from Took Senior, as he rolled by his grandchild, drawing him in for a warm hug and awashing all three in smell of fine mead that wafted off of his breath. The mentioned grandchild didn't mind though, all too used to that odor lingering around his grandfather and answered the hug with one of his own, not being nearly as successful with spanning his hands around the hobbit's middle as he was.
"Grandfather! You are not being too polite, noticing only my own arrival and ignoring two other dear guests to this fine gathering" scolded the younger one gently as he maneuvered himself to show his elder the two brother smiling at him from behind them.
"Ah! My clumsy old mind had had too much of the delicious mead that your uncle Borrister brewed for the occasion and made me overlook such fine Bagginses! Welcome, welcome! From all the Took in the Hill and the Shire in general, welcome you to the Winter Gathering. May you grasp plenty of ribbons tonight!" jovially said the hobbit as he clapped Fili and Kili on the shoulders, and then rolled away, having successfully planted the tone for the evening's behavior by calling the two "outsiders" a hobbit clan's name.
The old politician had not held his semi-elected post for so long without knowing how to turn the situation to a needed angle. And his grandson's happiness was definitely it tonight. Especially with his mother breathing down his neck to make sure that nobody untoward bothered her favorite offspring. By calling the Tangars "Baggins" he had placed them with Bilbo, and rightfully allowed them to chaperone him, and be witness to anything and anyone's attempts at courting, while also giving them rights as witnesses that would not be dismissed by saying that they were outsiders.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Many a hobbit, especially young ones, grit their teeth at that, having picked up easily at the clue, and trashing their plans at drawing the young Baggins into a dance and steal. Everyone realized that the two at his side would not be leaving now and their attempt would most likely be thwarted by a harsh Tangarian fist to the head, of a kick with an iron-clad foot.
They had all had no idea however that all of their musings were completely unknown to the two in question, as Fili and Kili had simply taken Old Took's greeting in face value and gave it no further thought. Thye were already planning on not leaving Bilbo's side tonight, much to his relief.
Bilbo, having picked up on the dig, had gaped for a moment before a large grin shone over his face. He send a bow to his Great-Grandmother, receiving a wink in return, and turned to his newly named relatives, gesturing them closer.
"Go on then, eat and drink, it will be a long night filled with fun and dancing" he told them, somber mood lifted off his shoulders at the new protection and assurance that no hobbit would attempt to draw him in with no consent, and that the other lads and lasses would be a bit more weary to approach the dwarves as they were now under Baggins clan's rule and detail. Their attempts at dressing in Fili and Kili's colors being for naught as they were all wearing Baggins red and yellow anyways. The fine mesh of acorn and oakleaf embroidery at all three's collars and belts having insured their clear affiliations.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
More then a few hours into the Gathering Bilbo had to admit to himself that he was having… a good time. Fun if he was honest with himself. Now that he was no longer under the thread of being snatched up and his ribbon being taken away without his knowledge, the hobbit let himself relax and enjoy the festivities. He dances with a few older matrons who still remembered his father and mother's Winter Gathering. He drunk with hobbits who just wanted to drink and eat. Talked and laughed with those he knew personally and a bit closer and avoided all those that glared at his two shadows.
Fili and Kili were everpresent at Bilbo's side, never straying too far away even if he was dancing or playing with others. They were never too obvious about it, not stepping into his bubble of personal space, but also never going so far as to lose him from their combined sight. They danced when he did, drunk when he did, and ate nearby.
Both Tangars were all too popular with the young hobbits, some of them still attempting to peruse a dance or a conversation, even though they were not prepared to take on a Baggins this fine night. But both dwarves were unwaveringly polite, laughing, fun and also completely unavailable.
They had been warned beforehand to keep their ribbons close and to not let anyone take them, Bilbo informing them that if such a thing happened they would have been honour-bound to spend the next day with person who had it, in an attempt to get to know them better for purposes of beginning a court. As neither of them were interested at such things at this point, both had tied their silky accessories to their necks and left it at that, looking for all intents and purposes as if they had flags wrapped around their throats.
Bilbo's red and yellow silks were rather simply tied to his braids, a feat that Fili had insisted signified that he had other interests for tonight, especially considering nobody would be able to pull them out without also clearing a clump of hair from his curly head. The Baggins was insanely pleased with that idea and wondered why other hobbits who had not wanted to peruse a suit had not thought about that decades ago.
So, he flaunted through the crowds, red and yellow silk flitting over the unseen breeze as he danced, talked, and laughed, never noticing mad eyes that trailed him and the failed opportunity he represented. The overeager hobbit form the market had been thwarted twice already. When that blubbering old Took decided to name the dwarf scum Bagginses and when he noticed that there would be no way for him to pull out Bilbo's ribbons even if they were not present.
When then night had drawn to a close, and some of the weaker or drunker guests had been distributed to their bedroom for the night, he had decided that at the very least he would attempt to get a tug at the young Baggins. Powered by the mead in his system and the burning anger at the dwarves in his heart, the hobbit grabbed a knife from the nearby table and unsteadily made his way towards Bilbo.
Luck be it, or misfortune, but that was the moment both Tangarians had turned away from their post, leaning down to get a look at the baby hobbit in her mother's arms who had been brought along for lack of an available hobbitsitter. Bilbo had been cooing at the infant as well, letting her play with his fingers when he felt a harsh tug at his head and with a scream toppled back.
When he had raised his eyes to look at what had caused him to fall down, dread settling in his stomach as a suspicion grew, he connected eyes with the drunk gaze of a neatly if cheaply dressed hobbit, who stood unstably on his feet behind him, knife in one hand and a bottom of his braid in the other.
The red and yellow ribbons listlessly hanged from the cut hair.