1.

Bilbo desperately needed a breath of fresh air. In fact, it had become a matter of life and death to step outside and away from the noisy Dwarves, from their talk of dragons and funeral arrangements. Bilbo had never felt more suffocated his whole life… and in his own Hobbit hole, of all places!

He slipped away, leaning against the walls as he groped for his front door, taking one deep breath after another and struggling to steady himself. Bilbo glanced behind himself nervously, dearly hoping that nobody had noticed his escape. Fortune seemed with him, for once throughout the miserable affair, and Bilbo pulled the door open as quietly as he could. He shuffled outside and leaned against the solid wood, muttering under his breath as he recalled Gandalf's sign on his freshly painted door.

"Confusticate and bebother meddlesome wizards," Bilbo grumbled, shivering into the cool night air. But he welcomed it, for it was clear of smoke, and commotion and the reek of traveling Dwarves.

It was then that Bilbo heard a soft rustle and caught movement with the corner of his eye. His head snapped to his right and Bilbo's eyes widened as they fell on several… shapes! Three of them, large and wrapped in what seemed to be grey cloaks, were huddled together on his bench, hoods pulled low and obscuring their faces. Another two cloaked figures leaned against each side of Bilbo's window, shifting only slightly when the Hobbit's frightened eyes espied them. Near the little fence that separated Bilbo's property from the road, two more cloaks sat down on the grass, long legs folded beneath them. Their heads turned when Bilbo gasped, but the hobbit could not make out the features beneath their wide hoods.

Feeling even fainter than he'd been when desperately trying to escape the Dwarves, Bilbo slumped against his door.

"Oh, save me… what now?" he whimpered. Those shapes… they didn't look like Dwarves, they were far too tall, but what were Big People doing, skulking outside his home in the middle of the night? What more ill news had Gandalf brought upon him?!

As the hobbit tried to work up some courage and say something, yet another cloaked figure appeared, materializing around the curve of Bilbo's home without so much as a whisper in the grass. It came closer and closer, looming tall before the poor hobbit, much bigger than anything on legs Bilbo had ever seen. The hobbit's heart nearly came to a halt as the shape blotted out all the starlight and moonlight, something moving beneath the cloak that covered it from head to toe.

Then, long-fingered hands surfaced and the figure pulled down its hood. To Bilbo's immense relief and surprise, the smiling face he saw belonged to an Elf. An Elf!

"Good evening, Master Baggins," the Elf bowed, his crown of dark hair shimmering faintly as he moved. Bright eyes shone in the fairest face Bilbo had ever seen, when the Elf looked upon him again. "Our apologies for giving you a fright," he added, his voice deep but soft and hesitant. He seemed to pick his words with some difficulty, as through the Common Tongue were not entirely common to him.

Bilbo inhaled and exhaled deeply, eyes darting to the other figures that moved toward him. He struggled to collect his wits and find his voice, mind racing to find a reason why so many of the Fair Folk were gathered on his doorstep.

"It's quite…," Bilbo began, somewhat encouraged by the friendly smile the Elf before him wore. "Quite… unexpected," he trailed off as the others came to stand all around him and removed their hoods. Similar smiles and eyes crinkled at the corners greeted the Hobbit as his eyes darted from one otherworldly face to the other. Bilbo had encountered Elves passing through the Shire in his time and had even conversed with some of them, but the Fair Folk standing before him were unlike any Elves he had ever seen.

"Please forgive us for not announcing ourselves," one of them said, nodding briefly. "We have espied your other… guests as they arrived and we thought you have had enough newcomers for one evening," the Elf explained with somewhat more ease in his words than the first one.

"Your home appears to be quite… taken over," the tallest in the Elven company observed. "I don't suppose there is anymore room at the table… or anything left to dine on," his smile broadened. "And, no offense meant to your lovely home, Mr. Baggins, but I doubt any of us would fit properly in it."

An involuntary chuckle left Bilbo's lips as he stared at the impossibly long figure of the Elf, topped off by what seemed to be dark-red hair.

"Ah, well… I suppose…" the Hobbit stammered. He cringed as a particularly loud round of shouting ran through his home and gave the Elves an apologetic look. "Perhaps I could salvage some wine if you…"

Bilbo didn't quite finish his invitation when the door behind him moved and he stumbled, groping for purchase. One of the Elves immediately knelt and steadied him, nodding and then looking up. Bilbo followed his gaze and saw Gandalf slipping past him.

"Olórin," the Elf who had addressed him first spoke to the wizard, calling him by a name Bilbo had never heard before. To his surprise, Gandalf bowed to the Elf, then stepped forward and embraced him.

Bilbo heard the fair-haired Elf at his side chuckling softly. For a few moments, the Hobbit was quite forgotten, left to watch Gandalf greeting all the Elves and exchanging words with them in what sounded like the High Elven Tongue. It was a relief to learn that they were High Elves and appeared to be good friends of the wizard, but that did not explain why they were all gathered before his door. Initial surprise subsiding somewhat, Bilbo cleared his voice and meant to at least ask after their names, if not the purpose of their visit.

"Aaah, but we are being rude to our host," Gandalf turned toward the Hobbit. It may have been the way starlight fell on his face or merely Bilbo's imagination, but the wizard appeared as though many hundreds of years had fallen from his face. Then, he smiled broadly and all the old wrinkles were exactly in place. "As you all know, this is the honorable and respectable Mr. Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf motioned with a wide sweep of his arm.

"We are pleased to meet you," one of the Elves said and they all bowed as one.

"And I you," Bilbo remembered his manners and returned the greeting. But he still didn't have their names and would not be able to refrain from asking them for much longer.

"I am Curufinwë," the Elf closest to Gandalf introduced himself.

"And I," one of the other Elves stepped forward and upon seeing his face better, Bilbo concluded that he and the other bore some kind of relation to each other. Perhaps they were brothers, but had he understood correctly and they had the same name?

"I am Canafinwë and this is my brother, Maitimo."

The two Elves in question nodded and Bilbo began to see that ALL of them seemed to have similar features. And the names… the names rang a bell in his memory. But it was only a distant sound and Bilbo had already had too much excitement for one night to give the inkling much thought.

"Carnistir."

"Tyelkormo," the fair-haired one said.

"And Ambarussa," the last of the Elves introduced themselves, again by one name and leaving Bilbo even more puzzled. He wished for more light and meant to invite the Elves inside, even if they were quite right in saying they would have to stoop.

"Forgive me, my dear Bilbo, I had meant to tell you that we are expecting more company, but with all the commotion inside…," Gandalf paused when yet more Dwarven carousing made itself heard. "I'm afraid it has quite slipped my mind. And I did not think that the Elves would be joining us before sunrise."

"We have been here for a while but thought it wise to observe the… rest of the company," Curufinwë - the first to have named himself thus - told the wizard.

"Quite a colorful gathering," Tyelkormo observed with a grin.

"We feel sorry for the state of your pantry," Maitimo added. "And we would hardly wish to impose on you even more."

"But I could use a drink," someone said. Bilbo didn't quite catch who it was, his poor head already spinning as he tried to match their faces with the names they had given. And still, he did not know what they were doing there.

"Uh… by all means, please do come inside and…," Bilbo wobbled once more as the door behind him was yanked open to someone's impatient growling.

"Gandalf, where have you and that dratted Hobbit slipped off to? What… what is the meaning of this?!" the voice faltered, giving Bilbo enough time to glance at Thorin Oakenshield and notice his countenance darkening.

Shrinking away from the Dwarf and disliking his menacing posture even more than before, Bilbo tried to say something, but Thorin's growl cut him short.

"Who are these people? What are they doing here? Gandalf!" he demanded, frowning deeply and groping for his sword. Fortunately, the Dwarves had surrendered their gear as they arrived. It lay in a pile where Bilbo himself had dropped it out of the way and Thorin had no weapon to brandish before the Elves.

Gandalf sighed and Bilbo tensed, giving the newcomers a wary look. He saw the blond one shaking his head and smiling, while the ones at his sides scowled and smirked respectively. But Curufinwë stepped forward, his expression welcoming in spite of Thorin's harsh words.

"You must be Thorin Oakenshield. I am Curufiwë and these are my sons," the Elf said. "At your service," he lowered his head and the others did likewise, although Bilbo could see their expressions did not quite match that of their father.

Their father… Seven sons? Bilbo counted them quickly and again, he felt as though something poked the surface of his memories. But again, he could not pursue that thought, all but jumping out of his skin when Thorin answered.

"I have no need for the service of Elves! Gandalf, I do not believe you had the liberty to make our business known to everyone that crossed your path! One Hobbit was bad enough," Thorin ground out, making Bilbo flinch at the contempt in his voice. "But a whole band of Elves?!"

"Your business, Master Dwarf…" Curufinwë began, his own voice acquiring an edge that Bilbo did not find very friendly. But Gandalf placed a hand on his shoulder quickly and eyed the Elf pointedly.

"Your business is your own," one of his sons said in his place, the very tall one, Maitimo, if Bilbo had caught his name correctly. "Although it might coincide with our business, up to a point. Or so Olórin… Or so Gandalf has told us."

"There is a dragon to slay," the fair-haired one cut in. "That is one beast I have not yet added to my trophy list," he examined his nails as he spoke, almost as if he purposed to slay the dragon with his bare hands.

"And what would you know of dragons?" Thorin glared at the impudent Elf, taking insult in his words and Bilbo wasn't entirely sure insult had not been directed at the angry Dwarf, albeit subtly.

"I know enough," Tyelkormo replied nonchalantly. As his brother nudged him, he too decided to say no more.

"Perhaps it would be best to go inside and discuss this in a civil manner, not quarrel like beggars at the door?" Gandalf suggested.

"I have nothing to discuss with them," Thorin hissed.

"No, of course you do not. But I do and when we are finished discussing, I do believe you will change your mind."

The wizard and the Dwarf stared at each other for a long moment, making Bilbo shift uncomfortably. He gave the Elves an apologetic look and took some comfort in their encouraging smiles. But they were still on the doorstep, finally drawing the attention of the other Dwarves. Bilbo heard them trudging down the hall and a sinking feeling washed over him. Things could go very bad, very fast and there he was, caught in the middle of it.

A/N: Names of Fëanorian Elves given in Quenya and the more familiar Sindarin counterparts

Fëanáro Curufinwë = Fëanor

Nelyafinwë Maitimo = Maedhros

Canafinwë Makalaurë = Maglor

Turkafinwë Tyelkormo = Celegorm

Morifinwë Carnistir = Caranthir

Curufinwë Atarinkë = Curufin

Pityafinwë Ambarussa = Amrod

Telufinwë Ambarussa = Amras

Also, Olórin = Gandalf's name in Valinor.