Thanks to y'all reading and providing me feedback. It's much appreciated! Jen: In answer to your question, I didn't even think Frodo's stage in drowning could be serious. Well, just chalk it up to dramatic vs. reality inconsistency. = I
Bilbo forgot his birthday.
Business with his will and drawing up plans for next year's grandiose exit preoccupied his thoughts and it simply slipped away from him until two days prior. Parties commemorating Bilbo and Frodo's birth were the capstone event of the Shire but not so this year. Small was this affair, a deviation from years past and an understatement to the extravagance the Bagginses were known for far and wide. Aside from the Brandybucks, other quaint families were given invitations to the intimate dinner and gladly accepted on the spot as the request for reply required. Other relations not issued an invite took deep offense. Especially those dwelling close in proximity. In justifying his restricted guest list, Bilbo imputed his own lack of regard and truthfully admitted he just plain forgot. Whether they accepted his excuses he cared very little, he would have delighted better to offer no explanation at all.
But the Shire hobbits need not be disappointment two years in a row. Next year's party, The Long Expected Party, as he referred it, would live up to it's presumptuous name. Bilbo was in works to execute an event unlike any attended before, and it would be one they'd certainly not desire to attend again. He craved nothing less than to see his relatives throw back their heads and gasp in shock while discreetly covering up their prudish little mouths. At work penning his dastardly and fantastic ideas as he thought them not a word of it he uttered to any hobbit, but when asked prevaricated instead he was jotting notes for his Book. He confided in only the folks hobbits regarded little and trusted least, the elves and dwarves. Several meetings transpired in the outlying woods, passing letters for delivery to old friends whose addresses existed far outside the Shire's Messenger Postal Service. Frodo, too, was left in the dark.
The designs for next years' party frequently detracted him events occurring in the present time. Arriving late and suffering from fits of forgetfulness were predicaments Bilbo fell into more commonly these days. So explains the frantic household making haste to assemble this night's birthday dinner. Frodo gladly took the chore to tidy the home while Saradoc and Merry went to town with a shopping list in hand. No one knows what Bilbo set out to do, he was up and out before the others awoke.
Saradoc and his son traveled to the marketplace immediately after breakfast to accomplish the shopping and conclude by having lunch in town. Preparations, as stated before, were in haste and so much had yet to be done that cooking a meal with several dishes did not adhere to their time schedule. That in mind, the list contained all soft items (a term hobbits used to describe choice foods as ready-to-eat). In the butchery Saradoc sampled and picked the tastiest cured meats while explaining to Merry, who was eager to eat as will as learn, the two kinds of curing, drying and brining. Both settled on the briny meat agreeing it's taste superior. Wines, ales and cheeses were then purchased. Some soft bread loaves and at the last, a large birthday cake. All items, carefully packed, fit in a small hand wagon Merry pulled along.
Merry and Saradoc lunched inside the Stallion's Haven, a favorite haunt of Saradoc's. The buzz of celebrity huddled around Merry as they entered. The Brandybuck's, a prominent family in the far regions of Buckland, held little prestige in Hobbiton and were inequitably labeled reckless. "Over their heads in non-hobbit doings, they are," Hobbitons routinely commented of their skill for boating and swimming. But as word traveled from Bywater to Hobbiton of Merry and Frodo's heroism to save young Essie Bolger, their suspicions dispelled a little. Tight crowds of admirers and eager listeners cheered as The Rescue At Bywater Pool was told from Merry's lips. Just as Bilbo foretold, Saradoc was beaming, pride delighted his face as he sat back into the audience. As Merry neared his favorite line, "for the Brandybucks are masters of the Brandywine River, sailing and swimming upon its currents" he raised his fist in roose, and the club saluted their mugs cheering and nodding in approval of the boast.
The luncheon at the Stallion's Haven delayed the Brandybucks for much longer than expected. Saradoc recalling the time pulled Merry from the spotlight and reminded him of their commitments, "I could hear your story more often than you could tell it in your lifetime, Merry. Even if you never took a single breath through it. But we mustn't forget what we are to accomplish today."
"Nonsense! Stay the whole night if it please 'ee" said Sandyman the miller upon eavesdropping their conversation, " 'sides yet, we've a bit of business to talk, you and I, Master Brandybuck."
Half-remembering Saradoc acknowledged him. The miller's opinions of the Brandybucks weren't favorable and he was opened to telling so. Prior meetings with the miller were far from amiable. Saradoc expected this one to be no different. From his breast pocket he pulled an envelope and handed it to Merry. "Deliver this to the Post Office, then take the wagon to Bag End straight-away. Tell Frodo I ought not to take long," he said finally, eyeing the miller.
Doing as told, Merry exited the tavern, wheeled the cart behind him and headed down the square to the Post Office. Leaving the wagon outside, he chatted only a minute with the post worker to drop Bilbo's letter. But easily is a hobbit distracted with food: the office offered quince to all its patrons. The proprietor, Pedo Clearwater, hosted a vast orchard of quince. These recent years his successful yields overflowed in supply and mid-through season's close he gave them away. Upon heaRing it was the Baggins' birthdays Merry was urged to take with him the entire bowl to the party. Merry politely accepted.
All the Brandybuck chores in Hobbiton were completed and Merry was only a little behind schedule. Descending out of the township he saw Bilbo walking ahead seemingly in his usual hurry. Further ahead he glimpsed the Sackville-Baggins turning the road bend but not yet aware Bilbo was heading towards them. As Lobelia and Lotho drew closer Bilbo slowed to nearly a standstill. Then, just before halting, Bilbo vanished.
Merry staggered at the wizardry before his eyes. The quince apple he snacked on fell and rolled on the dirt with his jaw as it, too, dropped to the ground. Regaining himself and curious to see what happens next, he pulled the wagon of goods behind the hedges that lined the north-side road and hid. peering through the hedge while quietly quick-stepping to where Bilbo disappeared, he watched the S-B's pass, unbeknownst of the magic that had befooled them. After walking over the rise completely out of sight, Bilbo reappeared tucking a gold piece of jewelry in his pocket. Merry gasped but covered his mouth quickly. Quite pleased with himself Bilbo guilefully chuckled. No hint of a spy was suspected and on home he continued. Merry watched, his hands still over his mouth, until he felt certain it was safe to re-emerge on to the road.
***
It was several minutes before Merry gathered his things and marched to Bag End. He thought hard and concluded the source of magic centered from the mysterious Ring. He had seen this gold Ring looped through a chain dangling from Bilbo's pocket once before. Remembering now, the old hobbit nagged at it, checking his pockets often to assure himself it hadn't gone. Curious not only of the Ring's power but where it came from, he began reaching back to old memories to recall any clue about this mysterious favor. But he didn't have to remember too far back, just two days ago incidentally, when he was left alone in Bilbo's study.
As the old hobbit walked out of the study, Merry sneaked to the large desk where his Book sat open. Across the expanse of a large page, Thror's map was recreated in Bilbo's penmanship. Arrows dictated points and people of interest such as Girion Lord of Dale, Great Mirkwood, the Elvenking and Long Lake. With the tips of his fingers he graced the page edges, hesitating to turn them, fearful of getting caught. Holding his breath and make not a sound, he lent an ear to Bilbo's doings, continuing only after hearing the old hobbit fumbling in the dark to kindle his lamps. Ever so gently, he turned the page and went back in time. It was Bilbo sixty years younger, living quite normally and expected as hobbit lives were fashioned. Then came to his round door was a peculiar fellow of the Big Folk, it seemed, clad in gray robes, capped with a pointed hat and armed with a grand walking stick. Merry stopped, it was no Man being described here but a great wizard. He muttered softly, Gandalf. Before reading any further, he froze at the holler of his own name and hurriedly answered the protective author upon entering the parlor.
His memory ended at the front step of Bag End. He looked at the front doorway imagining Gandalf staring at the same green door sixty years back. Merry could only guess if Bilbo knew he was snooping about, for he never mentioned it. Perhaps Bilbo said nothing because he trusted the young Brandybuck (at least Merry was inclined to believe he did) with the secrets not yet ready for public exposition. He wondered specifically about the Ring and if Frodo had knowledge of it's magical properties. The rare glimpse of the Ring and Book did not make its way into conversation any time soon and he committed to investigate both items even further. But he had no luck in learning more despite stealthy guises. He filed the knowledge and for years spoke not a word of it to anyone.