Once Upon A Dream || The Hobbit ¹

01| 𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓸𝓽

hobbiton, the shire, ten years later

— HOBBITON IS QUITE A MERRY LITTLE PLACE, THOUGH SCARLETT HAS ONLY SEEN IT ONCE BEFORE. She imagines she looks an interesting sight, her and her black and white clydesdale on their way up to the tip top of the wide road that loops through the town, a mysterious pair of sword hilts at her sides under her knee-length leather combat jacket. To a Hobbit, judging by their reactions when she passes, she looks like a troublemaker. To anyone else, she looks deadly. Her long, blue hair that would give most around here a heart attack tumbles freely down her shoulders and back as she slides from her saddle at the round, green door. Intelligent brown eyes sparked with both playfulness and ferocity quickly find the glowing mark etched there, and her lips quirk slightly at the sounds of bustling merriment on the other side. Knowing no one is likely to hear her if she knocks, she simply opens the door and slips inside, her smile growing as she does.

Dwarves bound about this way and that with furniture, dishware and food, laughing and chatting amidst the shouts of a very ruffled hobbit. It isn't difficult to spot her friend in the group, seeing as he stands over all of them by quite a lot. "Gandalf!"

He turns with a smile at the sound of her voice. "My dear Scarlett. I'm so glad you could join us."

She raises a brow. "Are you sure the sentiment is shared?" she nods at the dwarves passing by who are shooting her odd yet intrigued looks.

He chuckles quietly. "I'm not certain Thorin felt the need to disclose to the Company that you would be joining them, but I assure you, he looks forward to your contribution. Speaking of which..." He glances around, muttering names and numbers under his breath. "We appear to be one dwarf short."

"He is late, is all." a new voice puts in, belonging to a dwarf leaning against the doorway, a mug of ale in hand. "He travelled north to a meeting of our kin. He will come." His eyes linger almost judgingly on Scarlett, but before he can say anything, another dwarf cuts in.

"Mr Gandalf? A little glass of red wine as requested." The wizard turns, as does Scarlett. "It's got a fruity bouquet."

"Ah, cheers." though, the glass is indeed tinier than expected, and Gandalf's surprise leads Scarlett to giggle.

She bumps into the unwilling host not long after, whilst trying to navigate the dwarves. He blinks at her in shock, then again, slightly less shocked. "You're not a dwarf."

She laughs. "No." She's about half a foot too tall and far too slender with features far too pretty. "I'm Scarlett Bane."

"Oh. I'm Bilbo Baggins. What... are you exactly?" He wonders, his eyes very obviously lingering on her hair. "If you don't mind my asking?"

She smirks, taking a sip of her drink. "I'm just Scarlett. Friends call me Red."

"Oh..." He chuckles almost nervously, glancing at her hair. "Isn't that a little bit...?"

"Ironic?" She laughs. "Yeah, I guess so."

Food is thrown across the table back and forth and back and forth in every direction, and she laughs when a blonde dwarf walks over the table to hand out drinks. And then they all chug before letting out the biggest belches. Scarlett rolls her eyes. Afterwards, she follows the sound of the complaining hobbit.

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering," Gandalf says. "Once you get used to them."

"I don't want to get used to them!" Bilbo snaps. "Look at the state of my kitchen! There's mud trod into the carpet," Scarlett finds them in the main hallway. "They've pillaged the pantry! I'm not even gonna tell you what they've done in the bathroom; they've all but destroyed the plumbing! I don't understand what they're doing in my house!"