[Luthien_ Tinuviel]

Luthien ambled into the Party Field, having held back a bit to avoid the mobs that had been swarming through the gates earlier. She was the first of her group to arrive, that much was sure. Now, where could she find a place for all of her friends to settle down and have a good time? She suryeved the Party Field, and decided she wasn't nearly tall enough to see anything. Noting a nearby elf, she hailed him, hoping that he would notice.

The elf proceeded over to her, looking a little confused. This was not surprising, really. One didn't see an shortish elf dressed like a hobbit every day.

"Excuse me, sir, could you please look around and tell me where I could settle down and wait for a party of friends? I'm afraid I'm not quite tall enough to see over this crowd."

"If you keep going, you will find smaller pavilions beside the food tables. There, perhaps, you may be able to place yourself, provided the pavilion you choose is empty," the elf replied, and walked away, giving Luthien another odd look. Empty pavilions? she thought. Not likely. But we shall see.

Pushing her way through the crowd, Luthien made her way to the busiest area of the field. This was no easy task for her to carry out, especially in a polite manner. She resolved that she would under no circumstances resort to pushing and shoving her way through, and luckily it didn't come to that. But it did come mightily close before she could actually find a gap in the crowd and rush through it.

Had her baggage been spoilt? She carried a basket of food in her arms, and on her back was a pack containing her present for the Wight and various assorted speeches, poems, and tales to read during the entertainment.... Whether she would be able to choose between them, or work up enough nerve to actually read them to the crowd, was still undecided. Finally Luthien came to various small pavilions. The elf had been right! There were various awnings, tables and pavilions set up near the food tables to accomodate guests. What luck! And she was one of the first to claim one, too. Choosing a good-sized blue pavilion, Luthien plunked herself down on the grass inside it and checked to make sure all was well. Nothing had been damaged. That was fortunate, and more than she had expected in that bustling crowd. She looked at her basket of food in satisfaction. It contained various baked goods, fresh and still warm. Nestled among a towel were tartan scones, plaid cookies, and some very appetizing-looking shortbread.

With nothing else to do, Luthien looked at her attire. She had chosen to come in hobbit garb, and was enjoying it immensely. She was wearing short, wide tan pants, a crisp white collared shirt which she was certain wouldn't stay crisp for long, and a green and yellow vest decorated in a tartan-like pattern. There were golden ribbons in her hair, and her only piece of jewelry was a very thin silver ring with an intertwining gold thread. Did she look alright? Did she care? She decided that she must look at least farily presentable, for the looks she had gotten from various passersby were looks of surprise, not contempt. She attributed the surprise to the unusualness of a barefooted elf in hobbit clothing.

As she waited, she suddenly began to worry that no one of her group would be able to find her. She could not take her offerings to the various tables, in fear that someone else would come and take the pavilion while she was away. She stood up and proceeded to the front of the tent, and strained her eyes, trying to find her friends. Was that Firi in the distance? Perhaps it was. She carefully placed her basket on the ground, popped a scone in her mouth, and began yumping up and down, yelling at the top of her lungs. Unfortunately she had forgotten the scone.

"Firi! Over here!!" she called, but her cries were somewhat muffled by the food in her mouth. Would her friend hear her cries and find her? So far all she had done was illicit more strange looks, but that was unremarkable.