An Unexpected Return

Hobbiton, Summer 1342 (S.R.)

The sun was incredibly bright. It hurt his eyes. There were so many people, and they were all shouting. It hurt his ears. Someone trod on his foot. That hurt too. He was just too small; no one seemed to notice him down here, and that was no good – he was here to help his Uncle Holman keep the folk off the grass.

'Hamfast Gamgee! Concentrate!'

His head snapped up as he heard his name called across the garden. Uncle Holman was glaring at him as some particularly eager gentlehobbits strayed onto the lawn. Quickly he ran up to them and stood in front of them, and politely told them to keep on the path. They gave him a quick glance, then forgot all about him. At least they moved back to the path.

Hamfast scowled. This was boring. He hadn't become his uncle's apprentice to stand around acting as usher; he wanted to be growing things, seeing plants grow and flourish as he cared for them.

But no. For today, he was stuck in the garden of Bag End making sure the eager bidders at this extremely popular auction did not ruin the flower beds.

Bag End, the finest hobbit-hole in all of Hobbiton, was up for auction due to the extended absence of its owner, Mr Bilbo Baggins, for unknown reasons. Many hobbits were now taking advantage of his disappearance to get their hands on his smial. The most excited and determined of them all, however, were the Sackville-Bagginses. Lobelia and Otho were at the front of the gathering crowd, claiming the best position to out-bid all the other hobbits present.

Hamfast, in his small state and unobserved position, heard all the hobbits discussing the mysterious Bilbo. He had been gone only a year – Hamfast remembered the uproar and the inevitable gossip that had circulated when it became known that the Gentlehobbit under The Hill had gone – and now they were selling his house. Poor Bilbo, was Hamfast's thought – what will he do when he returns and finds he's got no home? As far as most of Hobbiton was concerned, Bilbo was as good as dead – from what they'd heard, he'd gone on an 'adventure' – nasty and uncomfortable things that make you late for tea. Nobody expected he'd be back. Now he was simply referred to as 'that cracked Bilbo' or 'Mad old Baggins'.

Suddenly a hush fell upon the company as the auctioneers stood up and introduced the auction.

'Ladies and Gentlehobbits, we welcome you to this very eagerly anticipated auction; the selling of Bag End. Many of you have placed bids with us already and…'

Hamfast lost interest pretty quickly. He was more interested in looking at the wonderful plants in the flower beds. One day, one day he would be able to grow such interesting and beautiful plants; one day he would have a garden like this…

Possessions from the house started to be sold. From what he could gather from the wave of noise reaching his ears, the Sackville-Bagginses seemed to be winning the lot. They must be desperate to get the smial.

The crowd began jostling again as the auctioneers stated the current price of the Hobbit-Hole. At that point, Hamfast saw something. He'd always had sharp eyes, and in games of hide and seek nearly always won – he could tell whether that tree was swaying naturally or not from a mile off – but this was no gaggle of hobbit-children he was seeing…

There was a pony, a real large Man-size pony, he could see that. And someone was riding it; whoever it was was very short…

Further shouts began to erupt from behind him. He screwed up his eyes against the noise. Suddenly the pony and its rider came into focus.

It was Bilbo.

Bilbo Baggins, on a pony that appeared to be laden with bags and chests full to the brim, and here was his very home being sold… Hamfast had to do something.

He screwed up his eyes again, drew in a deep breath, and shouted at the top of his lungs.

'It's Bilbo!'

By some miracle, his voice made it over the din of the feverish bidding and all activity stopped at his words. As silence fell, the sound of hooves was heard and also a faint jingling, as of coins. Bilbo and his pony drew up in front of the gate.

'Bless me! What's going on?'

No one answered and for a moment there was silence; then a great commotion broke out as some people tried to explain and others tried to depart unseen with their purchases. Bilbo sat upon his horse, towering above everyone, as half his possessions disappeared in front of his very eyes.

Eventually he made sense of what was happening. A lot of people were giving him funny looks. Hamfast overheard one pair of hobbits ask each other if it was the real Bilbo, not an imposter. His face looked slightly too round…

Hamfast thought it all incredibly absurd. Of course it was the real Bilbo, and by the looks of it he had brought back lots of treasure from wherever it was he'd gone.

Bilbo walked through the crowd to his house and glanced inside. It was practically bare. He gave a sigh and turnd to the hobbits watching him.

'If you please, my dear hobbits, I would quite like to have my furniture and other possessions returned to me. I am no longer 'presumed dead'' – he pointed to the sign which has been erected at the start of the auction – 'and it would be nice if I could sit down and have a cup of tea. I have just got back from an adventure, you know! But alas, all my furniture is gone…'

He looked at the hobbits in charge of the auction. They all started babbling, unused to the owners of their sales suddenly turning up and claiming it back. Others started shouting about how much they'd paid for their items. Hamfast couldn't believe the turn events had started to take.

Bilbo let out another sigh and called out, 'to all those of you who have purchased anything belonging to me, I now offer to buy it back from you. At the same price you bought it for… And my dear Mssrs Grubb, Grubb and Burrowes will aid me in settling this, I am sure,' he said, turning to the auctioneers, who nodded meekly.

And so began the process of regaining all Bilbo's items. The Sackville-Bagginses were particularly sore; they had desperately wanted to own Bag-End and to have come so close and be now so far once again was more than Lobelia could take. She started wailing as she handed back the items. (Hamfast saw the glint of silver in her parasol; evidently she was sneaking something away.)

Bilbo eventually got all his items back and Hamfast offered to help him replace all the furniture. Bilbo smiled at him and thanked him for his help, and when Hamfast's uncle came to collect him and apologize on his behalf for making a nuisance of himself, Bilbo laughed and waved it away.

'So you're a gardener, Hamfast?' Hamfast nodded eagerly in agreement.

'Well, not quite-' his uncle cut in.

'When you're older and have practiced with your uncle, perhaps you can work in my garden? I'm sure you'll be as fine a gardener as there ever was.'

Hamfast couldn't believe his luck. He'd never have thought he would have been grateful to his Uncle Holman for making him act as usher to a group of gentlehobbits; but on that day, he was.

This was my incredibly bored mind procrastinating and avoiding revision.

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