Chapter Text
The phrase ‘fortune favors the brave’ was never true for Hobbits, Not because being brave was not valued in Middle Earth but because most Hobbits argued that stupidity was often mislabeled as bravery and most Hobbits were not stupid nor brave. Their culture much favored relaxation and predictability, hence why a certain wizard wasn’t praised by the elders and more traditional hobbits. Yet the youth loved him and even some of the more grumpy parents had to give him a smile. No hobbit loved him as much as Frodo Baggins, except maybe his uncle. His uncle who had ran away decades ago and came back more wild than before, contributing to Gandalf’s image of a disrupting old man.
Bilbo’s birthday was being prepared and most of the Shire was buzzing with excitement or, in the case of the Sackville-Bagginses, impatience at the fact that Bilbo was still alive and sitting on what they believed was a gold mine. Part of the preparations was an abundance of food: jams being stuffed into jars, drinks brewed special for the party, the field where the party would be was trimmed and leveled out, and tents were either patched and fixed or created as there had never been a party in need of more space than Bilbo’s, at least not one that any current hobbit had been alive to witness.
In the middle of The Shire, with a few days before Bilbo was to be one hundred and eleven, two young hobbits, who happened to be cousins, sat on a bedroom floor, following a dress pattern. The blonde was a hobbit named Rosie Cotton and the brunette was her younger cousin of a few months, Bluebell Cotton. They followed the pattern closely, cutting and sewing with as much precision as Hobbit fingers and eyes would allow. If they wanted to look beautiful for the biggest social event in The Shire then they would have to make new dresses themselves. Rosie’s brothers were out by Bywater Pool with the Gamgees, allowing the Cotton girls precious silence and freedom from the ridicule Rosie’s still immature siblings inflicted. In fact, just as they finished trimming the strings on their dresses Bluebell heard the front door burst open as the boys pushed through and offered Rosie a quick goodbye and sped out the door before anything more could be said to her.
Bluebell’s family would be expecting her soon regardless so she was grateful such a moment gave her an easy excuse to make her way from South Lane to her family’s Hobbit hole. She knew the way well as she had taken it most days and always admired the life in the plants around her. In the Shire it was easy to become adapted to green hills and blue skies but the uncle everyone was in an uproar about, had once told her that not all the world was that way and to be grateful. So she tried to be.
This became immediately more trying the instant she got through her door and saw the mud caked on the front and dreaded opening the front door. When she did, she saw the marks on the door shied in comparison to the thick trail that led inside and followed the different paths inside her home. So Rosie's brothers hadn't gone straight home after playing. Venturing further in she found her dark haired mother with her knees firmly planted on the floor of the family's smial, placing pressure on the blasted mixture of dirt, grass, and whatever goo from Bywater Pool her nephews had dragged in while she wasn't looking.
Thyme Cotton was a little bit older than Rosie's mother but quite possibly the strongest hobbit Bluebell knew, though as a child she did not appreciate it as she should have. As she looked at her mother's graying curls she wondered briefly if her mother would reach Mr. Bilbo's age or if she would look as young as he did once she was.
If she, being the youngest, would watch as her father, mother, and brother passed on before she did, powerless to stop it. The rapidly declining thoughts were interrupted as her mother noticed her.
"From your cousins," she said while wiping her brow, "they came looking for you and Ash and dragged mud and water through the house."
"I can help, Ma." Bluebell simply stated, silently hoping her mother would have it magically cleaned up by herself. Some magic seemed to be involved, however, as a rustic voice behind her caused her to spin around.
"It was my fault, Mrs. Cotton. I'm sorry, I tried to stop them, honest. They just didn't listen but I can help you clean it up," said her savior, Samwise Gamgee. Thyme, sweaty and slightly out of breath gave him a wry look.
"In the name of the Shire, Sam, nothing can stop my nephews when they want something. Why would you take credit for it?," she took a pause as Sam squirmed in his spot for a moment, "Unless you were hoping to find Rosie visiting my daughter?".
The slightly wrinkled older hobbit turned her head as she said it to emphasize her question.
"No! I mean- not that I would mind seein' Rosie! I came looking for Miss Bluebell actually," both mother and daughter spared him a laugh at his rapidly reddening face. "Merry is here today and he and Pippin are asking for you."
Blue's face brightened at the thought though she tried to hide the smile.
"I'd love to! But… I have to help my ma with the mess," she really didn't want to at that moment and made a mental note to strangle her younger cousins when she saw them next.
Behind her a miffed little noise found it's way out of her mother's throat.
"Do I look like I need help?," Blue kept the resounding 'yes' to herself, "Go on, honey, I'll have this all cleaned up before you're even down the road. And tell Peregrin he still owes me a new teapot!,"
The glow that filled her heart at those words rivaled the sun in that moment. The excitement that chased her was so great she forgot to thank her mother- had to turn around and kiss her head- and then pulled Sam along with her as they made their way down the road. Blue was in such a rush that it was only after they were maybe twenty yards away from her home that she realized she did not know where they were headed.
“So where are we going, Sam?”
“The Green Dragon, Miss Bluebell, of course!”
“Of course,” she echoed, “Merry couldn’t make the trip from Buckland without rewarding himself with some of Shire brew, huh? By the way, Rosie isn’t working tonight.”
Sam didn’t say anything but Blue thought his cheer lessened just slightly. If only he was a little more bold. I’m sure Rosie would like him.
She ignored his blush for his sake.