, that smells heavenly my dear Bilbo." Her nose had guided her to the kitchen at nearly seven o'clock on the dot. Eggs, bacon, sausages, and crumpets had been set out on the table. With a rumbling stomach, Arethusa assembled two egg crumpets and settled on a slice of cheese and an apple, not particularly caring for meat at the moment.

Bilbo reached out, taking his cup of orange juice in hand. "What is the wandering healer going to do today?" She mused over the question for several long seconds.

"First, bathe Mazey. She's filthy from the mud and I promised her a bushel of carrots and apples. I suppose I'll go gather some of the flowers and grasses to start preparing my balms and tonics again afterward," Arethusa paused for a moment to remember the mental list of supplies she wished to obtain in the Shire, one of them being Southfarthing pipeweed (it worked marvelously on burns). "I promise to be back before sundown that way you can hear all about my adventures over supper," she added.

The hobbit smiled, "Yes, that sounds like quite the plan."

Arethusa finished off her plate and placed it in the sink. She thanked Bilbo and gave the hobbit a small peck on the cheek before running out the door to complete the tasks she had laid out for the day. Mazey was munching on flowers and tall green grass atop the hobbit hole that lived below Bag End. Untying the reins, Arethusa led her pony to the stream and began scrubbing away caked on mud from her legs and underside.

The sun was at its highest point by the time she had finished washing and grooming the pony, as promised she bought a bundle of carrots and a basket of apples leaving them and Mazey in a close patch of grass. Arethusa ventured back to the most populated part of Hobbiton. Hobbit children gathered round her, pleading to hear of her stories, unable to resist she sat on a bench and spoke of the time she had encountered an estranged warg and of the time she had met the elves of Rivendell, and even mentioned a tale or two about a skinchanger. Her stories about the elves were by far the most popular; they had a strange fascination with hearing stories of Lord Elrond and his people. By the time her tales had been told it was growing late and she had yet to even begin collecting herbs and flowers.

Arethusa hadn't seen him at first, but she bumped into Bilbo as he hid behind a cart piled high with straw and hay. "I already told you Gandalf, I want no part in your adventure." His voice was clipped and curt.

She tapped his shoulder, startled the hobbit turned, "Bilbo?"

Bilbo breathed a deep sigh of relief, "Arethusa, I thought you were Gandalf," he confessed, eyes lowered to the ground at his outburst.

"I can see that much. I knew that wizard was up to no good." His attention snapped to Arethusa at the mention of the wizard again as he took a fish and tossed a coin to the seller.

The hobbit padded back up the hill, toward Bag End. "You saw him too?" He asked.

She nodded, "Yes, on the way here. He stopped for only a minute or two and said that he would see me again soon. I knew he was meddling in something," her voice was amused, long had she admired the wizards ability to keep secrets but this kind of meddling was unprecedented.

"Whatever else would he be doing if not meddling?" She chuckled at Bilbo's comment and forewent collecting supplies for her remedies, instead, she took Mazey back to the top of Bag End and secured her reins to a post before joining Bilbo. Arethusa stopped at the round door and frowned at the design that had been carved into the green paint, it was Gandalf's symbol and nothing but the wizard who put it there could take it away. She thought it best not to tell the hobbit, else he would be flustered and irritated.

Bilbo sat in his rocking chair, a cup of tea within his hands, tendrils of steam rose from the surface. Arethusa sat on a bench in front of the small window in the room, looking mindlessly out at the rolling hills of green and told herself that Yavanna did well when crafting the Shire. "Do you still want to hear of my newest stories?" She supposed that after his meeting with Gandalf hearing adventures would only leave a sour taste in his mouth.

"Sorry Arthie, but I think I've heard quite enough about adventures today." He glanced in her direction, drinking the last of the tea as the sun set and the sky faded into a deep indigo.

"I understand, now let's get supper started shall we?" The thought of food was all too enticing for the two of them to remain still. A selection of potatoes was split and roasting with butter and sage, a small trout sizzled over flames in an iron skillet. Arethusa had even made time to make honey cakes with lemon drizzle, Bilbo's favorite. The hobbit gathered up two plates, placing the fish on his own and a few potatoes as Arethusa preferred vegetables and things of a sweeter nature.

Bilbo tucked his napkin into the neck of his undershirt and Arethusa laid hers out upon her lap. With a dash of salt and lemon juice, she had just cut into the first wedge of potato when the shrill ring of the doorbell echoed through the hobbit hole. She looked at the hobbit curiously as he stood, already exasperated. Bilbo removed his napkin and walked to the door. Arethusa followed behind a few steps, looking out from the pantry archway to see the door swing open and reveal bald and gruff figure with a large ax strapped on his back. A dwarf. She was too consumed looking over the stranger's appearance to notice the exchange of words shared.

Frazzled, Bilbo looked to his new guest with disdain. Arethusa shrugged, unaware on how to even begin processing the fact that there were dwarves in this part of Middle Earth. Dwalin, she believed was his name, had already devoured Bilbo's trout and both servings of potatoes before asking for more. A plate of butter scones was behind where the hobbit sat in the corner of the room, he thrust the plate forward but not before grabbed two of the biscuits and tucking them away.

The bell jingled at the door yet again, Bilbo looked in the direction and the dwarf glanced to the side. "That'll be the door." It was Arethusa that opened the heavy door this time. Another dwarf stood on the other side, this one had a long white beard that matched a surprisingly full head of hair. His robes were burgundy in color, just dusting the ground.

He stooped low into a bow, "Balin, at your service."

Arethusa looked curiously at the dwarf, having ventured far over Middle Earth she had rarely made acquaintance with their race. Dwarves were secretive and kept to their mountain halls. "Good evening?" She wasn't sure what to say in the situation and the statement came out more of an unsure question than she intended.

"Yes. Yes, it is, though I think it might rain later. Am I late?" He asked.

Her brows furrowed, "Late for what?" It was then she caught sight of the glowing mark etched into the door, she had forgotten about it. Her lips pressed into a taut line at the thought of this being Gandalf's doings. The dwarf paid little mind to her soured expression and entered the house without ever really being invited in. "Oh, haha! Evening, brother."

Dwalin stepped out of the dining room, setting down the jar of honey cakes he had been raiding. "By my beard you are shorter and wider than last we met." Balin shook his head at the jest.

"Wider, not shorter, and sharp enough for the both of us." Laughing, they greeted each other amicably. Putting their arms on each other's shoulders like friends who had been parted for ages, Arethusa nearly smiled until they hit their foreheads together. Bilbo looked on in wonder, Arethusa placed her hand on her forehead, almost feeling the impact herself.

Bilbo prattled on about their unexpected arrival, Arethusa sat by the door already suspecting that more dwarves would arrive. True enough the bell rang and there came three knocks. Bilbo stood behind Arethusa as she opened the door to reveal a pair of dwarves, undoubtedly younger than the two that had already arrived. She and the hobbit both let out a small noise akin to a moan. She wanted to push them away and be rid of the other two that had interrupted her peaceful night. "Fili," the blond one stated, "And Kili," spoke the other. In unison, they bowed, "at your service." There was a pause before the younger of the two stepped forward. "You must be Mr. Boggins."

"Nope, you can't come in, you've come to the wrong house." Bilbo was obviously flustered and when he tried to shut the door, Arethusa helped only to be halted when a booted foot stopped the action. When the two dwarves pushed the door back open Arethusa tumbled backward, catching the edge of an old rug and fell rather ungracefully on her bum. She frowned when Kili and Fili entered and joined Balin and Dwalin, not bothering to apologize to her and leaving Bilbo with an armful of knives and axes.

With the gripping and uttering between Bilbo and his dwarven guests, all Arethusa could make out was that there would be more than just four. The bell rung louder and longer than the other three times. Bilbo, in flushed anger, walked quickly toward the door, dumping all the swords and other weapons in his arms along the way before Arethusa could say her peace about the guests.

"Oh no. No, no! There's nobody home. Go away, and bother somebody else. There are far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is. If- if- If this is some clotterd's idea of a joke, haha, I can only say, it is in very poor taste." The door opened and in came eight more dwarves falling through the hole and onto the doormat, a grey wizard towered above them. "Gandalf." Bilbo's voice was unsurprised that this was the wizard's doing.

Yet again there was more bickering as they rearranged furniture, Arethusa approached the wizard, ruffled and confused. "I say Gandalf, you're going to drive Bilbo up a mallorn tree." She did not try to conceal the irritation in her voice.

The wizard smiled, "Calm yourself, Arethusa. You'll find them to be a merry gathering." He turned back and began rattling off names.

"I believe rude and uncouth are better descriptors." It was a statement muttered beneath her breath, as soon as they began hauling out food by the arm loads from the pantry Arethusa had already had enough of dwarves for one day. With burning ears and red cheeks, she stormed away to the drawing room and picked up an old book on the Long Winter and began reading, struggling to concentrate over the shouts and exclamations of the dwarven guests.

When there was a moment of silence she sat the book down and peeked out into the hall to see Bilbo staring in her direction, utterly frustrated and devastated with the state of his home. She took to his side and smiled when he held out one of the butter scones that he managed to save. She nibbled on it, contented until Gandalf spoke her name and worst of all, what she was.

"If you are a fairy then where are your wings?" Kili did not relent his pestering glare and impish smile towards the enchanting lady that was at Bag End. Arethusa looked just as disgruntled with their presence as Bilbo. When she did not answer right away Fili knocked his brother on the back of the head, not hard enough to cause harm but just so he could see the fidgeting and the uncomfortable position he had put her in at the moment. Even if only one of the dwarves had spoken out she could feel all their eyes trained on her. Fairies were even more uncommon than dwarves.

Bilbo frowned and took the fairy's hand, pulling her away to the sitting room. He had known her to be a fairy for a long time. She had the ears of an elf, the height of a hobbit, and the endurance of a dwarf. She was the last of her kind, though Bilbo had not yet come to realize that. When she settled back down the peace could not last as the hobbit squabbled with the dwarves about his kitchenware and then worst of all, they began to sing.

It was a dreadful combination and lasted all too long for her liking as plates and silverware flew beside her face. The cheers all came to halt (thankfully) when there came three long, and firm knocks on the door. The manner of the knock and the instant silence from the dwarves told her it would be someone important.