I stood on tiptoe, trying to see over the crowd's head. I was shorter than most people, I suppose, and it was a sore thought with me. I pushed the thought aside, determined to enjoy the party.
I clutched my small basket to my chest and took a deep breath. Parties tend to make me nervous...I don't know why. There were so many people at parties, people jostling each other, knocking into each other. But then again, parties were so fun to go to...I sighed.
I glanced down to make sure that my dress was neat. My light blue bodice had silvery vine embroider curling about the front. There was an ornate, gold embroidered "I" in the midst of silver vines that stood for my name: Imladris -- or Immy as my friends called me. My darker skirt fell in soft, slightly wrinkled folds to my ankles. My feet were bare and I wriggled my toes in the soft green grass. Shoes were despicable things. They made you hot and they just clomped around like a heavy oliphaunt.
I looked into my basket to make sure that the jar of canned peaches was still nestled safely in its depths. It was, along with the sealed pitcher of apple cider and the mathom. I smiled. Everything was safe.
The balrogs opened the gates and I was pushed through the gates along with the rest of the mob. I caught a glimpse of an orc...and the greeter was a woman with a flaming red wig. Interesting...
I put my jar of peaches on the table and arranged it so that the sun made it glow with a luminous, lucid golden orange light. I opened the pitcher of cider and put it next to the peaches.
Now all I had to do was to put my mathom on the table by the Wight's barrow...
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