[*Varda*]

Poppy collapsed wearily in a chair to observe the goings-on. She hadn’t even done much dancing, or drinking, but the party was simply moving too fast for the young hobbit to keep up with it all. Scurrying about the room, it was all she could do not to be trodden underfoot by the twirling and dancing elves and humans, and for a lot of them, it was all they could do to keep themselves upright.

Daerohil had soon disappeared off into the midst of the party after a short chat. Other than that, Poppy couldn’t see any other sober people, or even anyone able to pretend to be so. Every now and then, she saw a glimmer of white light as Lush passed through the crowd, or a clanking of pans as the Saucepan Man danced with someone.

Leaning back in her chair, she peered through the crowd. Out of the corner of her eye she saw…no, it couldn’t be. Not on heaven or earth would this hobbit ever attend a Barrowdowns Birthday Party, knowing the shenanigans likely to be going on…but it was. Poppy abruptly crawled under the table as Lousewart Chastitybelt stood nearby, looking dazed and quite bewildered about where she was.

“I haven’t even been in the Shire for a few years, and I’d still know that scowling face a mile away,” mumbled Poppy. “Why is she here? Probably trying to assassinate Dr Maril, most likely…wish I’d been there when she read that article…” Giggling quietly to herself at the image of the Garden Club hiding with guns at the ready, Poppy crawled out from the other side of the table and attempted to run off to the bar, before a lecture on not coming home to her family was imminent.

“Poppy Took, is that you!” she heard from behind her, as she moved between the people swaying to the music or to the influence of alcohol. Soon out of sight, she burst out laughing, and ordered a vodka at the bar, cautiously keeping an eye out for Angara, who seemed to be looking for victims, or Lousewart, whichever was worse.