I Celebrate the Color Green on my Birthday

23 September 3017, of the Third Age

2 Winterfilth 1417, Shire-Reckoning Time...

The next morning, September 23, was my birthday, and I was 28 years old. When I awoke, all the mystery from the night before had vanished and I found instead that four grinning boy hobbits were standing around me.

"Would you like your presents now?" Sam asked. "Or after breakfast?"

"Or after second breakfast?" Pippin added hopefully.

"After breakfast," I said firmly, pushing the bedcovers aside and walking straight to Bag End's front door to greet the warm sunshine of the Shire. "Good morning," I said quietly, to no one in particular. I jumped slightly when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Frodo.

"We've made pancakes for you," he said softly. "Happy birthday. Unfortunately, our party won't be as splendid as Bilbo's last night."

"He was eleventy one," I said shrugging. "That's different. If I ever get to be that old, I'll be able to enjoy a party like his, mark me."

Frodo smiled weakly, crossing his arms and standing with me, looking out at the view. I looked down self-consciously, still in my nightgown, and blushed, looking back at Frodo before retiring to my room to bathe and get dressed.

True to their word, the hobbits had gifts prepared for me after breakfast but before second breakfast, all wrapped in boxes and ribbons of different colors: a blue one from Frodo, a red one from Sam, a yellow from Merry, and green from Pippin. I opened each gently; and couldn't help but feel a glow of love for each hobbit who made me a beautiful gift…yet barely knew me.

Pippin had knitted a beautiful soft scarf from material so silky and flexible and green that I swear it was made from the very grasses of the Shire itself ("It matches yours," I grinned). Merry had bought me two journals; evergreen colored leather-bound books with creamy blank pages and an eagle-feather quill pen ("For writing," I said excitedly). Sam's gift was by far the most touching; a brown cord necklace with green glass-blown beads and a smooth hand carved pendant of a Shire flower. Sam revealed that he had, in fact, made it himself, with a little help from Rosie Cotton, and I moved on to Frodo's gift last.

It was a traveling cloak made from the warmest and lightest material possible of a deep shade of green that buttoned at the neck and was complete with a hood.

"It should match every other green item you possess," he said with a chuckle. "Now, there's one more green thing you're getting tonight, and we're all included in it."

"The Green Dragon!" Merry and Pippin cheered. "Ale for us!"

"And none for you unfortunately," Frodo added. "You're still, as you know, too young."

The Green Dragon Pub was alive with hobbits celebrating being young and happy, and able to drink. The boys waved hello to a few familiar faces, including Rosie Cotton, whereas Sam blushed and murmured to himself repeatedly. I stopped over at the bar, though the boys kept yelling that I couldn't have anything to drink, and sat with Rosie for a time while she wiped dishes and poured mugs of ale for the folk in the bar.

Pippin, Frodo, and Merry got their ale at last and jumped around the tables, singing drinking songs and ultimately, just to be embarrassing, sang a song about me, inciting a chorus of "happy birthdays" that lasted throughout the night. Past midnight was the time when we finally and merrily made our way back to Bag End, Merry and Pippin still singing their chorus drinking song. As they skipped, Frodo and I joined arms and sang loudly with them.

"Hey, Ho, to the bottle I go

To heal my heart and drown my woe!

Rain may fall and wind may blow,

But there still be... many miles to go!

Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain

And the stream that falls from hill to plain!

But, better than rain or rippling brook…"

Merry ceased and allowed Pippin to finish solo.

"… is a mug of beer inside this Took!"

…And I had to admit to myself that it was a perfect way to spend my 28th birthday.

12 April 3018, of the Third Age

20 Astron 1418, Shire-Reckoning Time...

It was the evening of the day that following late Spring that changed everything. I, bored, began writing in my new journals (with a never-ending chorus of "thank yous" to Merry, who insisted on being thanked).

While in my room, I heard Bag End's door open as they returned and Frodo gasp in fear. I jumped, ready to go to him, when Gandalf's voice sounded next to his, asking, "Is it secret? Is it safe?"

Gandalf? He had disappeared quite some time ago. It had been a half year, since Bilbo's disappearance, when we'd seen him last. I couldn't believe my ears. Were they tricking me? I got up, and pressed my ear against the door, my journals still opened and in hand to allow the ink to dry, and my quill in my other hand. As hobbitish as it sounds, I was accustomed to keeping things in my hands so I could quickly resume activity without looking suspicious, if necessary.

After a moment of silence, I heard Frodo cry out again. "What are you doing!?"

The rest of the conversation was too muffled to hear, but I was too scared to go any farther out into the hall, and their voices could only be heard in mumbles. I don't know if it was from the conversation, but the flickering light of my candles seemed to be swallowed and dimmed, as if a giant shadowed hand was holding Bag End. There was a dimming, a feeling of pressure, and I felt malaise, like something bad had settled into the house. I didn't like the feeling – I wanted peace and the cheery feel of Bag End that I loved to return.

Suddenly Gandalf threw something loudly into a table and I could make out Sam's shouts.

"I wasn't dropping no eaves sir, honest! I was cutting the grass under the window there, if you follow me."

"A little late for trimming the verge, don't you think?" Was Gandalf's suspicious reply. "What did you hear? SPEAK!"

"N-n-n-nothing important!"

I leaned farther into the door so that the entire left side of my face was flattened against the surface, and I had to hold the door with my hand to keep balance. Certainly, strange things had been happening here.

"That is, I heard a good deal about …[what was it, that he'd heard?]and a Dark…[muffled here] something about the end of the world but... Please, Mister Gandalf sir, don't hurt me. Don't turn me into anything unnatural!"

That made me smile behind the door and as I went to turn back to my writing, the door shifted and with a grunt I fell over, pressing the back of my hand into my mouth to keep from being discovered eavesdropping, and perchance being turned into something…unnatural.