I'll apologise now for my sucky accent-writing. It's worse than usual . Just imagine those adorable Scottish and Somerset accents.

Nothing could have hidden the spreading blush that adorns your face. Sure, you had invited your friends here, but now you knew everyone was coming here? Well, they could be anywhere from fumbling to fuming. Did they think you see keeping secrets from them? Did they know what was happening all along? It's probably a good idea to talk to them, but your feet refuse to move, your eyes stay fixated on theirs.

"(Y/n)?" The voice of your father pulled you back into reality, as well as physically by the arm. "Why don't you come meet your soon-to-be inlaws! They're dying to have a word!"

"M-my... Pardon, what?" The blush long gone on your face to be replaced with a sickly green. He could not have just said that. You swear he didn't say... Inlaws. Your empty stomach churns in both confusion and embarrassment. There was no way you could be...

"Yes! Paladin and Eglantine! They're just over there with Pervinca!"

Paladin... Eglantine... Pervinca... But they're all-

"Go! Go talk to everyone! Exert your social skills!" With a hard shove, you're sent hurtling into the middle of the room, every pair of eyes on you. The room temperature rockets as sweat starts to bead on your perfectly powdered forehead. You let out an awkward chuckle, trying to reassure both yourself and your apparent audience. Okay, that didn't work. Talking to people, huh? Maybe you can do that, if you find someone worth talking to.

"(Y/n)." Pippin's voice sounds a lot more urgent than usual as he grabs your wrist in an attempt to pull you out of the way of everyone, only making matters worse. "I need to tell you something. It's -"

"I know." You state, too in shock to even stutter. Any emotion is pushed away in a semi-acceptance of your situation.

"You have to believe meh when aye say aye had no idea."

"I didn't either."

It's easy to see how afraid he is in his eyes. Pippin isn't a bad person, but you wouldn't... Marry him, exactly. And to be quite fair, you can never detect any interest in you from him. People surrounding you give out occasional 'aaws' and such, all of them 'so happy for the adorable couple.' Suddenly, being sucked through the floor into a black pit doesn't seem like such a bad idea.

"Your father is Thain, right?" It was your father who had arranged this, which probably meant some sort of agreement, offering you as some sort of deal.

"Y-yes." Stutters Pippin, his hand dropping from yours. "We should probably talk about this somewhere a wee bit more... Out of the way." With that, he begins to walk back over to the table where he was sat before, Sam, Merry and Frodo staring at their feet. You begin to follow behind him, easily keeping the same pace. But then you can see Frodo's eyes. Those magnificently blue orbs that always shine so bright now struggle to even appear dull, sunken almost into the back of his head. His hair is more mused than normal, straying across his face in far too many places. You shouldn't have to see him like this - hey, it's not as if he was the one getting engaged!

'Maybe he's jealous, jealous that it's Pippin and not him.'

Yeah, right; he doesn't see you in that way remember? Don't get your hopes up, he's probably just sad his youngest friend unexpectedly pulled a bird before him. Maybe he'll be okay after a few more drinks.

Tentatively, you pull up a stool next to Sam, contemplating whether or not you should make a run for it - the door isn't too far away. Sam doesn't seem that fased, most of his attention switching focus between Frodo and the now-warm ale that sits infront of him. Merry tried to hide his snickering, almost amused by it all. You have to admit, in anyone else's circumstances, you would probably be giggling along with him, but his laughter only keeps you further on the edge. You really don't want this: not now, not with Pippin, not with all these people here too.

"(Y/n)." Pippin begins. "I-I think maybe we should just try to play along. I'm sure we can find some way out of -"

"How though?!" You shoot, an icy sheen sweeping over your eyes. You never snap at anyone like that, ever. But right now you are confused, distraught and need someone to blame your situation on. "Its already been decided amongst some of the highest nobles in all The Shire!" You can't just expect them to-"

"Naaw, but you two would be so complimenting to each other!" Squeals Merry in a mocking tone, raising his mug in a half-hearted toast. "Long live the happy couple!" A light dusting of pink graces Pippin's cheeks as he smirks to gain reassurance,

"I think you've had too much to drink, you oaf." You snap. Your seat hits top he floor as you fly to your feet, fists pounding on the table. "This is a serious thing and all you're doing is making matters worse! Do you think we both CHOSE this? Are you entertained?"

By now everyone is enjoying the show. And why shouldn't they be? The engaged woman was shouting at four very elligable young hobbits, one being her... Fiancé. That's what you are, you figure. Pippin's fiancé. As much as you hated to admit it, yeah, you are. And all these people watching? They know that well, probably better than you.

"Oh, she's always like that!" Pippin exclaims, throwing a casual arm around your shoulder. "She'll be fine soon, just a wee bit too much to drink, isn't that right, (y/n)?" He quickly pecks your cheek in a friendly manner, setting you back down in your chair with a pat on the head. Your lip tremble, tears threatening to burst free any moment.

Everyone soon goes back to what they were doing before, whether it be eating, talking or toasting. There's too much alcohol in the air with people hiccuping left right and centre and the smell is starting to make you sick. You're just about to excuse yourself outside when Frodo speaks up.

"I-I think I need to go outside for a second." He mumbles, slowly rising from his seat.

"I'll come with you." You huff, pulling yourself up.

"No, no. Ah, I think I'll be okay on my own."

"But I-"

"No, it's... Just fine. Enjoy your party, (y/n)."

And with that, the love of your life stormed out of his best friends' engagement party.