Author's Note: This story takes place a year before the BIG BIRTHDAY. I will be using a mixture of the book and movie verse. If you're familiar with both you'll see what I mean as you read on.
This is my first LOTR fanfic. I'd really appreciate any feedback. Reviews encourage, criticise, and tell us writers that someone is actually interested in our work. So please be polite and review. Enough of my entreaties. Here's the fun stuff:
BIRTHDAY AT BAG END
Chapter One: Bilbo's Birthday Plan
"I have it this time, Frodo my lad! You will be proud to be a Baggins come next month." Bilbo Baggins, the youngest one-hundred-nine year-old hobbit to ever fill the shire with mirth (and controversy), burst into the kitchen where his nephew sat contentedly munching an apple.
Frodo looked up from his repast, his blue eyes twinkling with merriment. "I already am proud to be a Baggins, uncle." He was accustomed to the criticism his adopted uncle received, and he expected the neighbours to make hurtful comments on how there had never been a sane Baggins throughout the written history of Hobbiton. But Frodo had also decided from the moment Bilbo adopted him, and most likely before then, that none of the neighbour and family's disapproval would affect their relationship; and indeed it hadn't.
"What mischievous scheme have you been devising now?" Frodo teased. It was well known that Bilbo thought of the most unexpected ideas. Of course, Bilbo's grandest idea had occurred when he was fifty. That was the time he had mysteriously disappeared from his home, Bag End, in search of adventure.
"I've come up with an idea for our birthday party! I know you want something special this year, Frodo, and not for your own benefit either."
"Indeed, the reason I am so anxious to have the best party is because you'll be turning one-hundred and ten!"
Bilbo could barely contain his excitement as he waited for his nephew to finish reminding him how very old he truly was. "I've decided that we should have horses."
"Horses?" Frodo repeated sceptically.
"They wouldn't be just any horses, my lad, but Man horses! Imagine the look on our relatives' faces when they see four, snow white 'Big Folk' horses."
"Don't you mean grey horses?" Frodo interrupted. "Horses might look white, but scientifically speaking, they're actually considered grey."
"I see all that book-learning hasn't been in vain." Bilbo allowed Frodo a few seconds to enjoy in his compliment before continuing his dialogue. "If we can find some Man horses our party will be the most memorable one in the whole shire. It is sure to be a success!"
"More likely a disaster." Frodo tossed his apple core aside in frustration. "If you bring in horses from the outside you know the shire-folk will deem us even more insane than before. Furthermore, if we hire Man horses for the occasion everyone will think the Baggins care more about humans and other creatures than their own kind."
"Well, we know that's not true, Frodo."
"But they don't!" Frodo gestured to one of the round windows, implying that the entire world outside their house did not share their view.
"It's times like these that I do care more for the outsiders than these narrow-minded hobbits!" cried Bilbo. He smiled, forgetting the bigotry of the Shire and letting the picture of his nephew grabbing for a second apple soothe his nerves. "I thought we had finished the apples."
"There were a few hidden in the cellar." Frodo gave one of the remaining fruit to his uncle.
"Soon it will be harvest time again," Bilbo said absently. He gazed at the apple, his mind some place else. "I still think it would have been grand to bring the horses. Gandalf has connections and could have found us several for a very inexpensive price . . ."
Frodo bolted at the mention of the wizard's name. "Gandalf is coming? We have not seen him in a long time!"
"Well, he was going to come, but now that we have no reason for his leaving his comfortable lodgings and visiting the Shire . . ."
"No reason? Have you gone mad?"
Amused, Bilbo noted his nephew's distraught countenance. "Frodo, you should know by now when I am serious and when I am in jest!" He began to laugh heartily, the apple rolling from his outstretched hand onto the floor.
Frodo watched the fruit nestle itself in a very unkempt corner of the kitchen. "When is he arriving-do you know?"
"He told me to expect him by the twenty-first, and if he was not here, we should assume the worst." Bilbo ruffled Frodo's dark brown hair. "Of course, I said to him, 'If you are not here for Frodo's and my birthday, I will come after you to make certain the worst has befallen you, and that you have not just stayed away because you don't feel like visiting us.'
"But enough talk of birthdays. You must go outside, for it is a very pleasant day." Bilbo waved his hand as an indication that Frodo was dismissed.
Once outside, Frodo had to agree with Bilbo that it was a beautiful day. The late summer sun was peeping at him from behind the massive trees. The leaves were mostly green but with a tint of gold and orange, announcing to the world that soon it would be autumn. The breeze was warm, the clouds were few in the sky, and Frodo felt very alive.
He meandered around the Bagginses' property and presently found himself in the garden. He surveyed the late flowers with great satisfaction, for he had a passion for true beauty. He was about to pluck a solitary blossom when the sound of singing caught his attention. Frodo soon discovered it was his gardener, Samwise Gamgee, belting out a lively tune as he knelt in the dirt, weeding.
The flowers in my garden smell purty and sweet.
The ground in my garden feels cool beneath my feet.
I'm happy in my garden, so let me be.
I would not trade my garden for the whole Sea.
As the song finished, Frodo burst into an enthusiastic applause. Startled, Sam sprang up from the ground, looking for the intruder. When he realised it was his employer, he flushed, removed his hat, and stared down at his soiled feet.
"If I had known you were listenin' I wouldn't have been singin," mumbled the gardener.
"Of course, Sam, and that's why I didn't make my presence known," Frodo began. "I wanted to hear your song. I must confess I was not aware that you were a writer of verses, and a very good writer at that."
"Lor bless you, Mr. Frodo Sir, that's very kind of you to say so. I'm not nearly a fine a singer and poet as Mr. Bilbo, or even you." Sam's gaze was still on his feet, which were trailing through the dark earth. "I just make up verses in order to keep myself occupied while I weed. It can be a lonely task-not that I'm complaining about the job. I love it here at Bag End."
"Speaking of Bag End, guess who's paying us a visit for Bilbo's and my birthday?"
Sam Gamgee was no longer staring at the ground. "I don't rightly know, Sir."
"Gandalf the Grey!" Frodo enjoyed using Gandalf's full name; it made the wizard seem even more important and ominous than he really was.
Sam smiled earnestly as he said, "I should've known Mr. Gandalf would be comin. He always comes for Bilbo's party, at least it seems that way."
Frodo's smile nearly faded as he mused over this remark. He had wanted something entirely different for Bilbo's birthday this year, not that he didn't appreciate having his friend Gandalf arrive. However, Gandalf was old news in the Shire. Every hobbit had already made his opinion of the wizard. Those who opposed him would come to the party out of politeness, and those who relished his company as much as the Bagginses would gladly take part in the festivities. If the only surprise was Gandalf, there would be no discussions for months afterwards of how "Bilbo had outdone himself this year," or "I was terrified at the __ they had, but now that I look back there was no reason to be frightened."
"Oh, Sam, I wanted this year to be different!" Frodo sighed. "Bilbo will have been alive for a century and a decade! Imagine! That's not something to take lightly."
"Well, if anyone can think of somethin special, Mr. Frodo, I'm sure you will." The loyalty in Samwise's voice was enough encouragement for young "Mr. Frodo."
A puckish glimmer filled Frodo's large eyes, and he exclaimed, "Why don't we have you stand up and sing several of your verses! That should have a great many hobbits talking, including your old Gaffer."
"Oh no, Mr. Frodo, I couldn't, not even if you gave me a raise in my salary or unlimited taters for the rest of my life!" Frodo was grinning, and Samwise realised he had been duped. Trying not to flush, Master Gamgee began, "Don't you think you've fooled your old Sam enough today?"
Frodo laughed and returned to the kitchen to finish his apple and retrieve the one that had lodged itself in the corner. He knew Bilbo was scattered and wouldn't have found it yet.
As he bit into his apple, Frodo shook his head in amazement. There was something about Bilbo's charisma and Sam's conviction that was so infectious. He didn't know if this birthday would be an extraordinary event, but he did know that ever since he'd come to live at Bag End, life hadn't been boring.
On to Chapter Two . . .
This is my first LOTR fanfic. I'd really appreciate any feedback. Reviews encourage, criticise, and tell us writers that someone is actually interested in our work. So please be polite and review. Enough of my entreaties. Here's the fun stuff:
BIRTHDAY AT BAG END
Chapter One: Bilbo's Birthday Plan
"I have it this time, Frodo my lad! You will be proud to be a Baggins come next month." Bilbo Baggins, the youngest one-hundred-nine year-old hobbit to ever fill the shire with mirth (and controversy), burst into the kitchen where his nephew sat contentedly munching an apple.
Frodo looked up from his repast, his blue eyes twinkling with merriment. "I already am proud to be a Baggins, uncle." He was accustomed to the criticism his adopted uncle received, and he expected the neighbours to make hurtful comments on how there had never been a sane Baggins throughout the written history of Hobbiton. But Frodo had also decided from the moment Bilbo adopted him, and most likely before then, that none of the neighbour and family's disapproval would affect their relationship; and indeed it hadn't.
"What mischievous scheme have you been devising now?" Frodo teased. It was well known that Bilbo thought of the most unexpected ideas. Of course, Bilbo's grandest idea had occurred when he was fifty. That was the time he had mysteriously disappeared from his home, Bag End, in search of adventure.
"I've come up with an idea for our birthday party! I know you want something special this year, Frodo, and not for your own benefit either."
"Indeed, the reason I am so anxious to have the best party is because you'll be turning one-hundred and ten!"
Bilbo could barely contain his excitement as he waited for his nephew to finish reminding him how very old he truly was. "I've decided that we should have horses."
"Horses?" Frodo repeated sceptically.
"They wouldn't be just any horses, my lad, but Man horses! Imagine the look on our relatives' faces when they see four, snow white 'Big Folk' horses."
"Don't you mean grey horses?" Frodo interrupted. "Horses might look white, but scientifically speaking, they're actually considered grey."
"I see all that book-learning hasn't been in vain." Bilbo allowed Frodo a few seconds to enjoy in his compliment before continuing his dialogue. "If we can find some Man horses our party will be the most memorable one in the whole shire. It is sure to be a success!"
"More likely a disaster." Frodo tossed his apple core aside in frustration. "If you bring in horses from the outside you know the shire-folk will deem us even more insane than before. Furthermore, if we hire Man horses for the occasion everyone will think the Baggins care more about humans and other creatures than their own kind."
"Well, we know that's not true, Frodo."
"But they don't!" Frodo gestured to one of the round windows, implying that the entire world outside their house did not share their view.
"It's times like these that I do care more for the outsiders than these narrow-minded hobbits!" cried Bilbo. He smiled, forgetting the bigotry of the Shire and letting the picture of his nephew grabbing for a second apple soothe his nerves. "I thought we had finished the apples."
"There were a few hidden in the cellar." Frodo gave one of the remaining fruit to his uncle.
"Soon it will be harvest time again," Bilbo said absently. He gazed at the apple, his mind some place else. "I still think it would have been grand to bring the horses. Gandalf has connections and could have found us several for a very inexpensive price . . ."
Frodo bolted at the mention of the wizard's name. "Gandalf is coming? We have not seen him in a long time!"
"Well, he was going to come, but now that we have no reason for his leaving his comfortable lodgings and visiting the Shire . . ."
"No reason? Have you gone mad?"
Amused, Bilbo noted his nephew's distraught countenance. "Frodo, you should know by now when I am serious and when I am in jest!" He began to laugh heartily, the apple rolling from his outstretched hand onto the floor.
Frodo watched the fruit nestle itself in a very unkempt corner of the kitchen. "When is he arriving-do you know?"
"He told me to expect him by the twenty-first, and if he was not here, we should assume the worst." Bilbo ruffled Frodo's dark brown hair. "Of course, I said to him, 'If you are not here for Frodo's and my birthday, I will come after you to make certain the worst has befallen you, and that you have not just stayed away because you don't feel like visiting us.'
"But enough talk of birthdays. You must go outside, for it is a very pleasant day." Bilbo waved his hand as an indication that Frodo was dismissed.
Once outside, Frodo had to agree with Bilbo that it was a beautiful day. The late summer sun was peeping at him from behind the massive trees. The leaves were mostly green but with a tint of gold and orange, announcing to the world that soon it would be autumn. The breeze was warm, the clouds were few in the sky, and Frodo felt very alive.
He meandered around the Bagginses' property and presently found himself in the garden. He surveyed the late flowers with great satisfaction, for he had a passion for true beauty. He was about to pluck a solitary blossom when the sound of singing caught his attention. Frodo soon discovered it was his gardener, Samwise Gamgee, belting out a lively tune as he knelt in the dirt, weeding.
The flowers in my garden smell purty and sweet.
The ground in my garden feels cool beneath my feet.
I'm happy in my garden, so let me be.
I would not trade my garden for the whole Sea.
As the song finished, Frodo burst into an enthusiastic applause. Startled, Sam sprang up from the ground, looking for the intruder. When he realised it was his employer, he flushed, removed his hat, and stared down at his soiled feet.
"If I had known you were listenin' I wouldn't have been singin," mumbled the gardener.
"Of course, Sam, and that's why I didn't make my presence known," Frodo began. "I wanted to hear your song. I must confess I was not aware that you were a writer of verses, and a very good writer at that."
"Lor bless you, Mr. Frodo Sir, that's very kind of you to say so. I'm not nearly a fine a singer and poet as Mr. Bilbo, or even you." Sam's gaze was still on his feet, which were trailing through the dark earth. "I just make up verses in order to keep myself occupied while I weed. It can be a lonely task-not that I'm complaining about the job. I love it here at Bag End."
"Speaking of Bag End, guess who's paying us a visit for Bilbo's and my birthday?"
Sam Gamgee was no longer staring at the ground. "I don't rightly know, Sir."
"Gandalf the Grey!" Frodo enjoyed using Gandalf's full name; it made the wizard seem even more important and ominous than he really was.
Sam smiled earnestly as he said, "I should've known Mr. Gandalf would be comin. He always comes for Bilbo's party, at least it seems that way."
Frodo's smile nearly faded as he mused over this remark. He had wanted something entirely different for Bilbo's birthday this year, not that he didn't appreciate having his friend Gandalf arrive. However, Gandalf was old news in the Shire. Every hobbit had already made his opinion of the wizard. Those who opposed him would come to the party out of politeness, and those who relished his company as much as the Bagginses would gladly take part in the festivities. If the only surprise was Gandalf, there would be no discussions for months afterwards of how "Bilbo had outdone himself this year," or "I was terrified at the __ they had, but now that I look back there was no reason to be frightened."
"Oh, Sam, I wanted this year to be different!" Frodo sighed. "Bilbo will have been alive for a century and a decade! Imagine! That's not something to take lightly."
"Well, if anyone can think of somethin special, Mr. Frodo, I'm sure you will." The loyalty in Samwise's voice was enough encouragement for young "Mr. Frodo."
A puckish glimmer filled Frodo's large eyes, and he exclaimed, "Why don't we have you stand up and sing several of your verses! That should have a great many hobbits talking, including your old Gaffer."
"Oh no, Mr. Frodo, I couldn't, not even if you gave me a raise in my salary or unlimited taters for the rest of my life!" Frodo was grinning, and Samwise realised he had been duped. Trying not to flush, Master Gamgee began, "Don't you think you've fooled your old Sam enough today?"
Frodo laughed and returned to the kitchen to finish his apple and retrieve the one that had lodged itself in the corner. He knew Bilbo was scattered and wouldn't have found it yet.
As he bit into his apple, Frodo shook his head in amazement. There was something about Bilbo's charisma and Sam's conviction that was so infectious. He didn't know if this birthday would be an extraordinary event, but he did know that ever since he'd come to live at Bag End, life hadn't been boring.
On to Chapter Two . . .