The Longer Expected Party
 

The sun rose and spread its light over the seemingly empty field. An immensely tall mallorn now stood where Bilbo’s Party Tree once was. It was covered in lanterns and ribbons. Downers have long been waiting for this day, where, as they said, Bilbo’s legendary party would be outdone. Bilbo’s Party tree was tall, they said, but the New Party Tree is taller and has more ribbons. Bilbo had guests from all over Shire, but today there will be guests from all over the world. Yet the most important thing is the food – Bilbo gave lots, but today there will be more. Oh, oh – and the fireworks! They will be much more grand than what even Gandalf could make.

A figure was walking down the path to the field. She was probably taking a morning walk, or looking at the decorated New Party Tree, or wondering where everybody has gone. As soon as she stepped off the road onto the field the air was filled with voices shouting “Happy Birthday Nerwen!” The surrounding hedges, fences, bushes, ditches, all suddenly came alive with Downers. Some have even hid in the lower branches of the New Party Tree and were now dangling on them like decorations.

Tables were quickly laid, barrels of drink rolled onto the field, food brought from the storages nearby. Banners and flags went up. The biggest of them proclaimed in bright letters: “HAPPY 111th BIRTHDAY, NERWEN!” The birthday Downer herself was seated right under the New Party Tree, in the place of honour. Someone brought her a basket filled with cards from many Downers, those who attended and those who couldn’t, all of them sending their best wishes. The top card was from Pervinca Took. It said:

Many happy returns, and many more of them! Tookish greetings from Pervinca T.

The one beside it was from MCRmyGirl4eva:

Best wishes, and sincere congratulations. Have a wonderful birthday, and I hope everyone enjoys the presents you have for them!

Right underneath lay a card from Galadriel55:

Happy eleventy-first! I hope you enjoy your long-expected party! (But no sudden disappearances, please!) ~G55

Meanwhile, the most important cake was brought out and set on the highest table to be admired while the time for desert has not yet come. It had so many candles stuck into it that there was barely any cake left. It was there only for the candles; there were scores of other cakes for eating.

http://cdn.stripersonline.com/f/f2/f...this-cake.jpeg

The best Downer cooks have lent a hand for the making of this cake, and the most skilled candlemakers set the exact number of candles (not one too few, nor one too many!) into wherever they saw space.

And then they brought confetti. Lots, and lots, and lots of it. There was so much that tents had to be set over the food tables to prevent them from being covered in colourful paper.

http://www.gifs.net/Animation11/Holi...etti_canon.gif

There was a horn blast. The Downers quieted down. Then, someone spoke:

“Let the celebrations begin!”


~*~*~*~


Many, many sincere congratulations and wishes to Nerwen! Bilbo may be well-known everywhere thanks to PJ and co., and your anniversary may be known to less people, but it is much more special to those who know you! Happy birthday!

Congratulations on reaching such an advanced age, estimable Nerwen! And very well-preserved indeed. One wonders if you've been keeping a secret. ;)

Legate joined the cheers with the others. "Hurray! Hurray! Jolly old Nerwen! Who would have thought that, eh? "

***

...But when he had a moment to stop and think, he began wondering once again. Nerwen's age was truly an accomplishment, but how came?

"It will have to be paid for," he muttered to himself. "It isn't natural, and trouble will come of it!"

Bethberry climbed down as decorously as she could from one of the top branches of the mallorn tree. She had been watching for party arrivals to let Galadriel55 know who was coming, but the as the party grew it became obvious her help was no longer needed. Besides, there were cakes aplenty down there and none atop the tree. And she was thirsty.

As she climbed down she counted how old eleventy-one was. Yes, there were just about enough branches on the mallorn for every year Nerwen was celebrating. It was a long climb down, but having finally reached terra firma, she was more than ready for cake and something to wet her parched throat.

"Nerwen," she said, "do you have any idea how long it takes to count to eleventy-one? Why, a hobbit could well die of thirst before reaching the final number."

Nerwen rose to her feet.

"Bêthberry, if all the barrels of drink here can't ease your thirst, I don't know what will. Have some more! And as for the Suspicious Mutterer of Amon Lanc –I have good ears, Mr Legate– I'll have you know I come of a long-lived family on my mother's side.

Now, I suppose you'll all be wanting a speech?"

"Yes!" cried some of the Downers. "No!" others protested, but Nerwen ignored them.

"My dear Downers... My dear G55s and Legates; and my dear Bêthberries and Inziladuns, and Lommies, and Nogs, and Sallys, and Rikaes, and Aganzirs, and Miths and Estys, Wilwas, morms, Forms, Morsuls,, Mnemos, Angs, Eomers, Loslotes, Feas, Morthorons, and Hookbills... not to mention my precious one," she blew Shasta a kiss, "...and, last but not least, The Barrow-Wight Himself!" There was clapping at the name, though in truth most were in awe of the shrouded figure who sat with a plate of– could it be mouldering bones?– in front of him.

She stole a glance at the other hooded, glowing-eyed party-goer, wondering if the phantom had noticed that she had purposefully not mentioned his name. "That'll take his ego down a peg or two..." she thought.

"Today is my eleventy-first birthday! I am eleventy-one today– a number perhaps even more dear to us Downers than it is to the internet community at large– where would fangurls be without it?!!!!111!!!

Eleventy-one years is too short a time to spend among such excellent and admirable Downers. I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I have repped less than half of you half as often as you deserve..."

DON'T YOU DARE DISAPPEAR!

Mithalwen cried, waving the bottle of Old Winyards she had for safekeeping. Or at least not until I have said something clever and funny. Don't hold your breath...

I hope you are all enjoying yourselves as much as I am, declaimed Estelyn. It had been quite a long time since the last Downs party, and she was determined to enjoy this one, especially as she hadn't had to plan or host it.

She had brought a group of skwerlz with her, all provided with trumpets and horns, pipes and flutes, and other musical instruments - small, but of perfect make and enchanting tones. They began to play a merry tune, encouraging the guests to dance.

Aganzir showed up fashionably late in her trademark loose black clothes and boots. She presented Nerwen with a loaf of home-made bread fresh from the oven.

"If you don't like it, feed it to the squirrels or something. And I'll make you something else for the next party," she said.

Then she wandered off in search of free food and drink, which is the only reason she ever goes anywhere. Especially parties.

Later, she was seen trying to drag Esty and B-berry to the dance floor.

*a small furry-tailed rodent defecates on the Dark Elf's boot*

Damn skwerlz.

Ummm...happy birthday, Nerwen. It's nice to know there are people still around that are older than me. :D

Incalculably easier on the eyes, as well. :D

Oh, I'm doing quite well for my age, thank you; however, the portrait up in the attic is looking rather grotesque. ;)

Morsul would have added something witty but his mouth was stuffed with delicious food.

Kuruharan rides up in a pony driven cart. The excitement over the heaps of fireworks contained within prevents any in the crowd from noticing the large dragon gliding serenely high above in the sky.

Not being one to waste time, Kuruharan busily set about placing the fireworks in rows about...the entire village.

However, before succumbing to utter pyromania, Kuruharan restrained himself to only set off a small set of fireworks reading "Happy Birthday to Nerwen" and allowing all and sundry to read them...before guffawing mightily and setting off a general conflagration.

alatar, leaning heavily upon his staff as if come from a long journey, walked up to the New Party tree. Seeing the remnants of what appeared to a very great celebration - much trampled grass, a faint whiff of fireworks, a small stub of a brightly coloured candle, a small piece of thread that perhaps belonged to a ribbon - he gave out a long sigh, and, having come to some decision, used the end of his staff to poke around in the ground.

He rooted out a flat rock, and by using a smaller piece of stone, scratched back and forth across his new found 'parchment.'

"Nerwen - Happy Belated 111 - a"

alatar set the stone under the New Party tree, gave it a short bow, and began walking back off into the East, from which he had come.

Many belated - but no less sincere or happy - returns to you, Nerwen.

Kitanna rushes up, extremely late days late in fact, clutching a pillow and a bottle of scotch. Seeing the party mostly dissipated she sits in the grass, setting herself up to go back to sleep.

"Happy 111th, Nerwen!"

Nerwen, of all people I can truly say "I don't know you half as well as I should like." Indeed, my appearances here are as few and far between as smiles on old Lobelia's wrinkled face! Nevertheless, I hope this is the best of your eleventy-one birthdays to date, and may it be the least of all the birthdays yet to come! Fare you well wherever you fare!

I never imagined Nerwen as a 111-year old I must say. Have a very happy birthday, as you are unlikely to be granted many more, being 111 and all.... :p

And that's one candle-y cake! :eek: