The unusual naming of Bilbo Baggins

Like many things in life, the naming of Bilbo Baggins could have gone very differently. The very tangled web of existence could have tilted very slightly to the left and Bilbo would have found herself with a rather more usual name. Perhaps an Adamantia or a Ruby or even a Daisy – flower names were after-all very popular in the Shire.

Why if Bungo's cousin Fosco hadn't recently celebrated an important birthday and gifted Bungo with a particularly fine waistcoat, this whole affair could have been avoided. But, alas, the birthday occurred and Bungo did indeed become the proud owner of a beautifully blue velvet waistcoat with delicately embroidered flowers and brass buttons the exact shade of his favourite letter writing ink. (We must take a moment here to mourn that glorious waistcoat, I'm afraid it does not make it to the end of this story).

Indeed, if Holly Bunce's youngest sister had been able to stave off her craving for apricot jam for another forty-five minutes for her husband to get home, she would never have taken a tumble off the chair and landed rather heavily on the steps of her larder. If it hadn't been for that jam, Holly Bunce might have never left her home on that night and, rather than attending to her heavily pregnant sister, the Shire's resident midwife might have still been home when the Gamgee lad knocked frantically on her door.

Of course, even these two things wouldn't have made any difference to the naming of Bilbo Baggins if somewhere, a long way over the misty mountains, a butterfly hadn't flapped its wings.

Xxx

Belladonna's howl of pain was lost rumble of the storm that raged overhead and Bungo threw a frantic glance at the window. The rain lashed against the glass but that was all. The was no faint glimmer of lantern-light from the road. There was no frantic ringing of the doorbell.

"Where is she?" Bella snapped, thumping her hand against the bedsheets

"I'm sure she'll be here soon, Bells." Bungo soothed, dabbing ineffectually at his wife's sweaty forehead.

"I need her here no-OW" Belladonna yelped, free hand clutching at her stomach as another contraction hit.

"There, there, dear." Bungo murmured and felt he quite deserved the venomous look shot his way.

Bella panted miserably, hand clenched around his and fingers spasming in pain. Bungo patted her head again and threw another desperate glance towards the window.

"Where is that Gamgee boy." He muttered.

Bungo did not feel equipped to deal with this kind of thing. He was more of a book-reading sort of Hobbit. He had a vague recollection that boiling water should be a part of the proceedings and that perhaps there ought to be linens involved somewhere in the procedure. Unfortunately the most experience Bungo had with a birth was to be shooed out of the smial with the other menfolk while the women took charge.

Belladonna wailed again and Bungo winced as her hand clenched around his, grinding the bones together.

"Bungo, Bun…go." Belladonna gasped. "It's happening."

"No, it's not." Bungo flailed his free hand, almost dropping the handkerchief. "It can't happen yet! The midwife isn't here. Are you sure it's not just another…" he trailed off and flapped his handkerchief in the vague direction of Belladonna's midsection.

"Pretty…sure." Belladonna bit out. "You need to…get down there. I need to push"

"Me?" Bungo exclaimed feeling his face pale. "I don't -"

Belladonna wailed and Bungo jumped in horror, darting down to the other side of the bed to tentatively peer between his wife's legs.

Much later, having seen far more of his wife than he had ever wanted to see, Bungo stood back from the bed as the tiny, wrinkled infant in his arms smeared blood over his white shirt. He stared in slight befuddlement at the tiny hobbit that he had helped bring into the world and tried very hard not to remember just how that had happened. This task was made all the harder by the fact that it had occurred only moments before.

The baby squalled its displeasure and Bungo was suddenly aware of how uncomfortable it must be to be pulled into the world. He panicked, snatching his new waistcoat off the chair it had been draped over and wrapping the child in it before glancing round for anything edible for the child, perhaps some nice warm tea.

"Bungo." Belladonna said, voice faint with exhaustion. "You're panicking again."

Bungo glanced up from the child. Belladonna had collapsed backwards onto the bed's pillows. Dark curls escaped her plait and plastered themselves to her face which gleamed with sweat in the candlelight. She had never looked more beautiful.

"Sorry dear?" He murmured, awkwardly rocking the bundle in his arms.

Belladonna cocked an eyebrow, "You were mumbling again. Something about tea."

"Oh, right." Bungo muttered. "That's ridiculous babies can't drink tea."

Belladonna smiled softy, seemingly too exhausted to respond and held her arms out. Carefully, Bungo placed the little treasure in her arms and pulled the duvet over them both. Belladonna grimaced at the thought of staying in the sweat stained bed but was far too tired to move.

She slid the baby's head into the crook of her elbow and rocked him gently, muttering nonsense until at last his wailing stopped.

"There, there." She soothed, "It's okay."

As if he understood, the child opened his eyes and stared up at her. Belladonna gasped in awe. The baby's eyes were as blue as the blanket that Bungo had wrapped him in – as blue as his father's eyes had been.

"There, there." Belladonna smiled, eyes drifting closed. "It's okay, Bilbo."

Xxx

A sharp rapping on the door startled Bungo awake. He jerked upright and looked round, not entirely sure where he was or why he was sitting up. On the desk in front of him he caught a glimpse of fine, white paper, the name Bilbo Baggins etched across the middle in his finest calligraphy.

He spun round and saw his wife and their son, still safely snoozing away in the bed. After Belladonna had fallen asleep Bungo had wobbled over to his writing desk and downed a dram of the whiskey that he kept in on of its draws. Still trying to get the rather disturbing sights of earlier. He must have fallen asleep.

The rapping came again and the newly christened Bilbo mewled unhappily in his mother's arms. The rain outside had stopped and Bungo realised that the midwife must have come at last.

Xxx

Now, perhaps if Holly Bunce had not spent the day worrying over her younger sister and perhaps if she had not just received another caller regarding a pregnancy over the hill, she would have done more than given the birth certificate a cursory nod.

As it was though, the exhausted women merely gave the mother and child a quick check and, upon declaring them both healthy, if tired, snatched the certificate from Bungo's hands. As she left, Holly called over her shoulder that she would drop the certificate off with the Shire's record keepers on her way home that evening.

Now, perhaps if Holly had given that certificate more than a glance the mistake would have been noticed sooner. As it was it wouldn't be until the next morning that Belladonna would unwrap Bungo's waistcoat from around there 'son' and notice something missing.

Bungo was all for retrieving the certificate from the records, but Belladonna, a far more superstitious mind was adamant. Bilbo was the name they had given and so, Bilbo their daughter would be.

Of course, this is only one part of the unusual naming of Bilbo Baggins.

The other is, of course, that the child was not in fact a Baggins at all.