Chapter 9
A Day Full of Sorrow
A gray thick fog hung over Bag End on the Hill and the surrounding town of Hobbiton. The cold wet mist saturated the greenery of every brush and bush. Even at mid-morning, one could not tell the time of day from the dreariness that loomed outside. There was not a breeze that could push the low hanging cloud from the doorsteps of their hobbit hole.
A pair of hairy hobbit feet prodded upon the damp wet grass that led to the front little gate of Bag End. The hinges creaked loudly when he pulled it open to walk through. The dirt had turned to mud and it stuck onto the feet of the hobbit who made his way to the door to announce his arrival. Taking a moment the hobbit decided to wipe his muddy feet upon the wet grass before he rang the bell.
With a few tugs on the rope, he could hear the ringing of the bell and he stepped back to wait for a greeting.
The round green door slowly opened and Sigismond got his first look at his dear cousin, Bilbo who had answered the ringing of his bell.
Bilbo's eyes were dark and deep with sorrow and he had a thinness about him that was so unusual for this hobbit. His pale white complexion gave evidence that he had not slept or eaten much in the two-days it took for Sigismond to arrive. Pulling off his dampened cloak and casting it aside on the bench just inside of the door of Bag End. He turned to face his cousin.
"Oh, my dearest Bilbo! It is with the greatest sorrow I arrive on your doorstep!" said Sigismond while he held his arms open to embrace his dearest cousin.
Bilbo instantly sunk into his arms and leaned his head upon his shoulder. There were no more tears left for Bilbo to cry from the deepest sorrow that had ever filled his heart. Sigismond just held his cousin securely in his warm embrace.
It was Sigismond who pulled Biblo back away from him while he gently spoke to him, "I am here now, Bilbo. I will see to all that needs to be done. Where is your mother and how is she doing?"
Bilbo looked towards the floor and whispered in a weak voice. "She's not come from her bedroom and cries endlessly for the most part."
Hildibrand came up from behind his son while he too pulled off his wet cloak. Hearing what Bilbo had told his son, Hildibrand knew his sister needed him terribly. Stretching out his hand, he gently stroked his nephew's light-brown curls on top of his head to reassure him.
Hildibrand took greater strides while he made his way through the long hallways and rooms to find his sister's bedroom. His heart had never felt so heavy in grief knowing that his brother-in-law was forever gone. He could only imagine his dear sister's sorrow for her love of her husband was so great.
Opening her bedroom door Hildibrand went inside. It was sometime before noon when he came out to announce that Belladonna should have a tray sent to her room.
Bilbo knew that if anyone could help his mother, that would be Hildibrand. Just as he predicted, Hildibrand convinced his sister that she needed to eat. Sigismond rushed to prepare her a tray and he had a lot of foods to choose from. Out of respect for the Baggins, the good folk of Hobbiton had filled their kitchen full of all sorts of home-cooked meals.
The healers had come once word was sent to them and they prepared Bungo for his funeral. Logo Bracegirdle was summoned to make a coffin just for Bungo and he had to put his own grief aside for his dearest friend. He worked tirelessly in making a coffin to honor him. Craved in the edges of the wood were the leaves that his wife had designed and Logo crafted a picture of Bag End into the center of the coffin's lid. Over the carving of Bag End, Logo chiseled his friend's name. When he finished Logo knelt down next to it and sobbed out his own grief.
On the third day, the healer came and took the coffin to their shop and placed Bungo into it. He was dressed in his finest clothing. His crisp white shirt with its stiff collar pressed up so the tips shown just above the thick, silky black tie. They placed on him his favorite dark-green woolen vest with shiny brass buttons. Laying him in his coffin with his hands folded upon his chest, they closing the lid and carried his coffin to the wagon. The good folk of Hobbiton began to place their flowers all around the small coffin to pay their respects. One by one, they came with bouquets of flowers until the little coffin was encircled full of an array of colors.
The good folk of Hobbiton gathered in droves to stand behind the wagon that would take them all up the Hill to Bag End. The mourners marched in quiet silence until they made their final stop at the hobbit hole that had meant so much to Bungo.
With respect, six folk of Hobbiton carried Bungo's coffin to the garden where the family was now seated. The Tooks of the Great Smial all gathered around Belladonna and Biblo when the coffin was brought in and sat down next to them. The Thain, Belladonna's eldest brother, Isengrim III stood before the coffin and opened the lid. While, a chorus of voices in unison began to sing their songs of mourning to honor Bungo Baggins. Their mournful song brought tears to Belladonna's eyes and she leaned her head upon Hildibrand's shoulder and he comforted her.
Bilbo was first to say his final good-bye and he approached the coffin and knelt down in front of it. Seeing his father's face and his folded hands upon his chest, Bilbo gasped trying to fight the tears back that he could not stop. His father's cherished face was locked in an eternal sleep with his light eyelashes resting upon his cheeks. The deep wrinkles gave testament to his eighty some years of his life. Even the soft-gray curls looked more whiten than gray. His gentle face was endearing to Bilbo and etched forever in his heart. Gazing upon his father's hands made Bilbo remember how much he had admired them. For they were always gentle and kind hands that had taught him so much. Hands that had built their home that Bilbo would always treasure. Hands that use to hold him and hugged him, were now quieted forever more. Taking the rose that Biblo held and gently placed it just underneath his father's folded hands and the rose resting upon his chest. Bilbo reached into his pocket and took out the family ring that his father had given him to marry Lobelia. Holding it between his fingers, he gently slipped it onto his father's littlest finger before he whispered to him:
"I give this back to you, my dearest Papa to hold of all time for I will never marry and the name you have given me will rest solely on my shoulder until my dying day. It will be the end of our line. Forgive me, my Papa. I have failed you, there will never be another Baggins living under this roof on the Hill."
Bilbo lowered his head to his chest and mournfully sobbing his grief. Reaching into the coffin, Bilbo touched his father's hands once again and looked upon his dear face for the last time. "I love you, my dearest Papa!" It was Sigismond who leaned down upon his knee and helped Biblo to stand and walked him back to his seat.
Belladonna approached the coffin and slowly sunk to her knees while looking upon her husband, she whispered, "My dearest, dearest love, how can my heart every go on without you. I need your strong arms to hold me. I wish I would have hugged you longer and told you more often just how much I love you!" Belladonna gently stroked his hand upon his chest and looked upon his sweet face that looked more like he was just asleep. "Good-bye my love!"
The hobbits sobbed while they watched Belladonna gently kiss her husband's lips and place her flower upon his chest. Hildibrand reached for Belladonna and gently wrapped his arms around his sister and held her while she cried.
Camellia Sackville-Baggins could not find a tear to cry nor grief in her heart as she stood in the crowd of hobbits and watched Belladonna being led into Bag End while her closest brother supported her. The only thing that was in her heart was the thought that before long she would have Bag End.
Shortly the common room of Bag End began to fill with guests from Bungo's funeral and tables of food were set out in abundance.
Belladonna could not eat and she retired to her bedroom, leaving Bilbo and Sigismond to host the event. Bilbo kept his eye upon Logo Bracegirdle who excused himself graciously to help bury his dearest friend. Logo went into Bungo's workshop in Bag End to borrow the tools he would need to put up a white picket fence that he had brought for Bungo's gravesite. Making this the first hobbit to be buried on the land that the Baggins's had owned.
Bilbo wished to speak to Logo about Lobelia, but he was still too lost in his own grief to mention it on this day. He knew he needed time before the two would talk again.
Sigismond would not leave Bilbo's side and stayed with him to help him in anyway that he could. Even though the hobbits seldom said a word to each other outside of polite conversation. Just having Sigismond to sit beside was enough to ease Biblo's grief and despair.
When the mourners said their good-byes to the Baggins, Isengrim knocked on Belladonna's door to speak with her.
Being the Thain, he presented Belladonna with her full inheritance leftover by their father so Belladonna would always have enough money to care for her son and Bag End. All of her brothers and sisters agreed that what she had borrowed to build Bag End was forgiven and forgotten because it was removed from the journals of the Tooks.
Belladonna hugged her eldest brother and thanked him for his generosity.
"I have no sons nor daughters to inherit anything that I own, even my title will eventually go to the next born from our father, until there sons lay claim to it. It is the least I can do for you my dear, sister. I want to always know that Bag End will always be yours and your families!" said Isengrim III
She kissed her brother good-bye and watched as he gathered his family and they traveled back to Tuckborough.
It was the forth night when Lobelia and Otho had traveled around Michel Delving to avoid being seen by anyone. The supplies that Lobelia had brought were running out and Otho knew it was going to be another four nights before they reached the South Farthing. Even her bag that he complained about was now becoming light as a feather. It worried Otho how he was going to be able to find them food for the rest of their journey. He debated with himself if whether bargaining with a local farmer for the food that they would need while still keep their identity a secret.
Lobelia's mood had changed in the four-days of their travel. He seldom had seen the same lass that ran along side of him light-hearted and laughing when they made their escape from Hobbiton. It concerned him greatly. During the night while being stretched out on the ground under his blanket before they would fall asleep. He heard her crying, but in the morning when he would question her, she would become angry and tell him to mind his own business.
He had wished that he had not taken her with him. This lass maybe more trouble than he had first thought. He had tried many times to make her smile, but those attempts failed miserably and Otho soon gave up trying. He felt it was his fault when he pulled her behind the door to keep his little surprise secret for his mother and did not have time to get her out of the room before his mother came barging in. They had just enough time to duck under her bed and then it was too late, he was now responsible for her. That responsibility weighed heavy upon Otho's shoulders.
A wagon crested the hill and it surprised Otho and Lobelia. It did not give them anytime to hide before they were seen. Otho could see the hobbit that carried bushel baskets of vegetables in his wagon and perhaps he could purchase enough for the rest of their trip.
Otho looked at Lobelia and told her from over his shoulder. "You stay behind me and don't say a word. I'll do all the talking!"
Otho put his bag down on the ground when the wagon came to a halt in front of him. "Hullo there travelers! It's a fine day to be out and about, I daresay!" said the hobbit in the wagon. "My name is Gorbadoc Brandybuck from Buckland, on the other side of this river here. What names do the both of you go by, my fine travelers?"
Otho glanced at Lobelia and noticed she kept her head down staring at the ground. "Our names are...........are Hardhill. We've come from Frogmorton a ways back. My brother and myself are making it to the South Farthing to join our distant relatives in a farming venture, as it were. I see you got yourself some fine fruits and vegetables in your wagon. I was wondering, seeing how we got another four-days on the road, if we could purchase a good bag full?"
Gorbadoc Brandybuck pulled back his hat from his head and looked at the travelers. They did not look much like folk around Frogmorton nor their speech had the same consistency of the good folk in and about those lands. The other lad was as queer and odd as he had ever set eyes upon. It made Gorbadoc a little nervous seeing how the first lad seemed to block his view of the other. But if there were folk in need of food no matter how queer they seemed because an empty stomach was an empty stomach and he had more than enough to share with them.
Gorbadoc nodded his head and pulled a blanket from the basket. "Fill you bag full, I've got plenty!"
Otho smiled and thanked him many times while filling his bag. "I've got some coins in my pocket to pay you for these, if you are agreeable?"
"No Thankee!" said Gorbadoc. "No coins are necessary, Mr. Hardhill! Just knowing I can be a service to you is enough. Good travels to the two of you!"
Gorbadoc snapped his reins and his ponies pulled the wagon on down the road.
Otho turned to Lobelia. "Well that was a nice fellow and this should put a smile on your face for a time!" he gave her a small wink to cheer her up.
Lobelia glanced over the brim of her oversized hat and a slight smiled crossed her lips.
Otho chuckled and reached for her hand to hold. "Now things are looking up for us, my dear!" and they continue down the road walking hand in hand.
The quietness of the uninhabited room gave its visitor no comfort when her eyes darted to each empty corner. There wasn't a stitch of anything left but bare-floor not even a curtain on a window. The padding of her feet when she crossed the room echoed and its sound seemed a strange noise to her ears. A noise that was not familiar to Camellia because each room was so filled with furnishings that an echo could not be heard, all but this one vacant room.
Camellia had emptied Otho's room down to nothing and either sold or dumped the remaining particulars into the trash. She wanted no memories of a son that had deserted her and humiliated her in front of her friends.
She wiped the remaining dust from the palms of her hands when her husband walked in.
Standing in the empty room that was once his son's bedroom, Longo froze in place being so astonished. "What have you done with our son's things!" asked Longo.
"I've done nothing!" commented Camellia. "Your son has taken what he has claimed as his own and I have only ridden ourselves of his trash!"
Longo scowled at his wife in discuss. There was nothing left that a father could hold to remember his son. It broke Longo's heart. "What mother could toss out the things that are dear to the heart of her own son?"
"A mother who has given birth to an ungrateful son!" snarled Camellia at her husband. She turned swiftly and trudged back to her own bedroom and slammed the door closed.
Longo cupped his hands over his face and let his tears begin to fall.
Upon a lonely table sat a single cup of warmed soup and a small wafer of twice baked bread. A father raised his weary eyes from the letter that he had read a least a dozen times over and still he could not bear the pain of missing his only daughter.
He set the letter down upon the table and gently caressed a golden locket with a broken clasp and he whispered her name, "Lobelia!"
FrodoBaggins87 : Welcome! I love it when I get a review from a new reader! Yes, Bilbo had gone through a lot, but don't worry that hobbit has many things up his sleeve. I think before all this is done, Bilbo will looked back upon this and some how see that everything works out for the best!
MLynnBloom : You have given me the best compliment that I have ever gotten as far as writing goes! To draw a reader so far into the story to make them forget about what they know about Lobelia Sackville-Baggins from Tolkien's account, is the best thing you can say to a writer and their story! I am bursting with pride! I was worried if anyone reading this would never buy the idea that Lobelia had another side to her and could possibly even like her at some point! However, poor Lobelia had lost her faith in those that she had loved. It has to change a person in how they trust and believe in others. More to come on Lobelia later in the chapters.
Aemilia Rose: I love writing about villains such as Camellia and she is going to keep this story a bit more interesting in the further chapters! I hope you like it!
A Day Full of Sorrow
A gray thick fog hung over Bag End on the Hill and the surrounding town of Hobbiton. The cold wet mist saturated the greenery of every brush and bush. Even at mid-morning, one could not tell the time of day from the dreariness that loomed outside. There was not a breeze that could push the low hanging cloud from the doorsteps of their hobbit hole.
A pair of hairy hobbit feet prodded upon the damp wet grass that led to the front little gate of Bag End. The hinges creaked loudly when he pulled it open to walk through. The dirt had turned to mud and it stuck onto the feet of the hobbit who made his way to the door to announce his arrival. Taking a moment the hobbit decided to wipe his muddy feet upon the wet grass before he rang the bell.
With a few tugs on the rope, he could hear the ringing of the bell and he stepped back to wait for a greeting.
The round green door slowly opened and Sigismond got his first look at his dear cousin, Bilbo who had answered the ringing of his bell.
Bilbo's eyes were dark and deep with sorrow and he had a thinness about him that was so unusual for this hobbit. His pale white complexion gave evidence that he had not slept or eaten much in the two-days it took for Sigismond to arrive. Pulling off his dampened cloak and casting it aside on the bench just inside of the door of Bag End. He turned to face his cousin.
"Oh, my dearest Bilbo! It is with the greatest sorrow I arrive on your doorstep!" said Sigismond while he held his arms open to embrace his dearest cousin.
Bilbo instantly sunk into his arms and leaned his head upon his shoulder. There were no more tears left for Bilbo to cry from the deepest sorrow that had ever filled his heart. Sigismond just held his cousin securely in his warm embrace.
It was Sigismond who pulled Biblo back away from him while he gently spoke to him, "I am here now, Bilbo. I will see to all that needs to be done. Where is your mother and how is she doing?"
Bilbo looked towards the floor and whispered in a weak voice. "She's not come from her bedroom and cries endlessly for the most part."
Hildibrand came up from behind his son while he too pulled off his wet cloak. Hearing what Bilbo had told his son, Hildibrand knew his sister needed him terribly. Stretching out his hand, he gently stroked his nephew's light-brown curls on top of his head to reassure him.
Hildibrand took greater strides while he made his way through the long hallways and rooms to find his sister's bedroom. His heart had never felt so heavy in grief knowing that his brother-in-law was forever gone. He could only imagine his dear sister's sorrow for her love of her husband was so great.
Opening her bedroom door Hildibrand went inside. It was sometime before noon when he came out to announce that Belladonna should have a tray sent to her room.
Bilbo knew that if anyone could help his mother, that would be Hildibrand. Just as he predicted, Hildibrand convinced his sister that she needed to eat. Sigismond rushed to prepare her a tray and he had a lot of foods to choose from. Out of respect for the Baggins, the good folk of Hobbiton had filled their kitchen full of all sorts of home-cooked meals.
The healers had come once word was sent to them and they prepared Bungo for his funeral. Logo Bracegirdle was summoned to make a coffin just for Bungo and he had to put his own grief aside for his dearest friend. He worked tirelessly in making a coffin to honor him. Craved in the edges of the wood were the leaves that his wife had designed and Logo crafted a picture of Bag End into the center of the coffin's lid. Over the carving of Bag End, Logo chiseled his friend's name. When he finished Logo knelt down next to it and sobbed out his own grief.
On the third day, the healer came and took the coffin to their shop and placed Bungo into it. He was dressed in his finest clothing. His crisp white shirt with its stiff collar pressed up so the tips shown just above the thick, silky black tie. They placed on him his favorite dark-green woolen vest with shiny brass buttons. Laying him in his coffin with his hands folded upon his chest, they closing the lid and carried his coffin to the wagon. The good folk of Hobbiton began to place their flowers all around the small coffin to pay their respects. One by one, they came with bouquets of flowers until the little coffin was encircled full of an array of colors.
The good folk of Hobbiton gathered in droves to stand behind the wagon that would take them all up the Hill to Bag End. The mourners marched in quiet silence until they made their final stop at the hobbit hole that had meant so much to Bungo.
With respect, six folk of Hobbiton carried Bungo's coffin to the garden where the family was now seated. The Tooks of the Great Smial all gathered around Belladonna and Biblo when the coffin was brought in and sat down next to them. The Thain, Belladonna's eldest brother, Isengrim III stood before the coffin and opened the lid. While, a chorus of voices in unison began to sing their songs of mourning to honor Bungo Baggins. Their mournful song brought tears to Belladonna's eyes and she leaned her head upon Hildibrand's shoulder and he comforted her.
Bilbo was first to say his final good-bye and he approached the coffin and knelt down in front of it. Seeing his father's face and his folded hands upon his chest, Bilbo gasped trying to fight the tears back that he could not stop. His father's cherished face was locked in an eternal sleep with his light eyelashes resting upon his cheeks. The deep wrinkles gave testament to his eighty some years of his life. Even the soft-gray curls looked more whiten than gray. His gentle face was endearing to Bilbo and etched forever in his heart. Gazing upon his father's hands made Bilbo remember how much he had admired them. For they were always gentle and kind hands that had taught him so much. Hands that had built their home that Bilbo would always treasure. Hands that use to hold him and hugged him, were now quieted forever more. Taking the rose that Biblo held and gently placed it just underneath his father's folded hands and the rose resting upon his chest. Bilbo reached into his pocket and took out the family ring that his father had given him to marry Lobelia. Holding it between his fingers, he gently slipped it onto his father's littlest finger before he whispered to him:
"I give this back to you, my dearest Papa to hold of all time for I will never marry and the name you have given me will rest solely on my shoulder until my dying day. It will be the end of our line. Forgive me, my Papa. I have failed you, there will never be another Baggins living under this roof on the Hill."
Bilbo lowered his head to his chest and mournfully sobbing his grief. Reaching into the coffin, Bilbo touched his father's hands once again and looked upon his dear face for the last time. "I love you, my dearest Papa!" It was Sigismond who leaned down upon his knee and helped Biblo to stand and walked him back to his seat.
Belladonna approached the coffin and slowly sunk to her knees while looking upon her husband, she whispered, "My dearest, dearest love, how can my heart every go on without you. I need your strong arms to hold me. I wish I would have hugged you longer and told you more often just how much I love you!" Belladonna gently stroked his hand upon his chest and looked upon his sweet face that looked more like he was just asleep. "Good-bye my love!"
The hobbits sobbed while they watched Belladonna gently kiss her husband's lips and place her flower upon his chest. Hildibrand reached for Belladonna and gently wrapped his arms around his sister and held her while she cried.
Camellia Sackville-Baggins could not find a tear to cry nor grief in her heart as she stood in the crowd of hobbits and watched Belladonna being led into Bag End while her closest brother supported her. The only thing that was in her heart was the thought that before long she would have Bag End.
Shortly the common room of Bag End began to fill with guests from Bungo's funeral and tables of food were set out in abundance.
Belladonna could not eat and she retired to her bedroom, leaving Bilbo and Sigismond to host the event. Bilbo kept his eye upon Logo Bracegirdle who excused himself graciously to help bury his dearest friend. Logo went into Bungo's workshop in Bag End to borrow the tools he would need to put up a white picket fence that he had brought for Bungo's gravesite. Making this the first hobbit to be buried on the land that the Baggins's had owned.
Bilbo wished to speak to Logo about Lobelia, but he was still too lost in his own grief to mention it on this day. He knew he needed time before the two would talk again.
Sigismond would not leave Bilbo's side and stayed with him to help him in anyway that he could. Even though the hobbits seldom said a word to each other outside of polite conversation. Just having Sigismond to sit beside was enough to ease Biblo's grief and despair.
When the mourners said their good-byes to the Baggins, Isengrim knocked on Belladonna's door to speak with her.
Being the Thain, he presented Belladonna with her full inheritance leftover by their father so Belladonna would always have enough money to care for her son and Bag End. All of her brothers and sisters agreed that what she had borrowed to build Bag End was forgiven and forgotten because it was removed from the journals of the Tooks.
Belladonna hugged her eldest brother and thanked him for his generosity.
"I have no sons nor daughters to inherit anything that I own, even my title will eventually go to the next born from our father, until there sons lay claim to it. It is the least I can do for you my dear, sister. I want to always know that Bag End will always be yours and your families!" said Isengrim III
She kissed her brother good-bye and watched as he gathered his family and they traveled back to Tuckborough.
It was the forth night when Lobelia and Otho had traveled around Michel Delving to avoid being seen by anyone. The supplies that Lobelia had brought were running out and Otho knew it was going to be another four nights before they reached the South Farthing. Even her bag that he complained about was now becoming light as a feather. It worried Otho how he was going to be able to find them food for the rest of their journey. He debated with himself if whether bargaining with a local farmer for the food that they would need while still keep their identity a secret.
Lobelia's mood had changed in the four-days of their travel. He seldom had seen the same lass that ran along side of him light-hearted and laughing when they made their escape from Hobbiton. It concerned him greatly. During the night while being stretched out on the ground under his blanket before they would fall asleep. He heard her crying, but in the morning when he would question her, she would become angry and tell him to mind his own business.
He had wished that he had not taken her with him. This lass maybe more trouble than he had first thought. He had tried many times to make her smile, but those attempts failed miserably and Otho soon gave up trying. He felt it was his fault when he pulled her behind the door to keep his little surprise secret for his mother and did not have time to get her out of the room before his mother came barging in. They had just enough time to duck under her bed and then it was too late, he was now responsible for her. That responsibility weighed heavy upon Otho's shoulders.
A wagon crested the hill and it surprised Otho and Lobelia. It did not give them anytime to hide before they were seen. Otho could see the hobbit that carried bushel baskets of vegetables in his wagon and perhaps he could purchase enough for the rest of their trip.
Otho looked at Lobelia and told her from over his shoulder. "You stay behind me and don't say a word. I'll do all the talking!"
Otho put his bag down on the ground when the wagon came to a halt in front of him. "Hullo there travelers! It's a fine day to be out and about, I daresay!" said the hobbit in the wagon. "My name is Gorbadoc Brandybuck from Buckland, on the other side of this river here. What names do the both of you go by, my fine travelers?"
Otho glanced at Lobelia and noticed she kept her head down staring at the ground. "Our names are...........are Hardhill. We've come from Frogmorton a ways back. My brother and myself are making it to the South Farthing to join our distant relatives in a farming venture, as it were. I see you got yourself some fine fruits and vegetables in your wagon. I was wondering, seeing how we got another four-days on the road, if we could purchase a good bag full?"
Gorbadoc Brandybuck pulled back his hat from his head and looked at the travelers. They did not look much like folk around Frogmorton nor their speech had the same consistency of the good folk in and about those lands. The other lad was as queer and odd as he had ever set eyes upon. It made Gorbadoc a little nervous seeing how the first lad seemed to block his view of the other. But if there were folk in need of food no matter how queer they seemed because an empty stomach was an empty stomach and he had more than enough to share with them.
Gorbadoc nodded his head and pulled a blanket from the basket. "Fill you bag full, I've got plenty!"
Otho smiled and thanked him many times while filling his bag. "I've got some coins in my pocket to pay you for these, if you are agreeable?"
"No Thankee!" said Gorbadoc. "No coins are necessary, Mr. Hardhill! Just knowing I can be a service to you is enough. Good travels to the two of you!"
Gorbadoc snapped his reins and his ponies pulled the wagon on down the road.
Otho turned to Lobelia. "Well that was a nice fellow and this should put a smile on your face for a time!" he gave her a small wink to cheer her up.
Lobelia glanced over the brim of her oversized hat and a slight smiled crossed her lips.
Otho chuckled and reached for her hand to hold. "Now things are looking up for us, my dear!" and they continue down the road walking hand in hand.
The quietness of the uninhabited room gave its visitor no comfort when her eyes darted to each empty corner. There wasn't a stitch of anything left but bare-floor not even a curtain on a window. The padding of her feet when she crossed the room echoed and its sound seemed a strange noise to her ears. A noise that was not familiar to Camellia because each room was so filled with furnishings that an echo could not be heard, all but this one vacant room.
Camellia had emptied Otho's room down to nothing and either sold or dumped the remaining particulars into the trash. She wanted no memories of a son that had deserted her and humiliated her in front of her friends.
She wiped the remaining dust from the palms of her hands when her husband walked in.
Standing in the empty room that was once his son's bedroom, Longo froze in place being so astonished. "What have you done with our son's things!" asked Longo.
"I've done nothing!" commented Camellia. "Your son has taken what he has claimed as his own and I have only ridden ourselves of his trash!"
Longo scowled at his wife in discuss. There was nothing left that a father could hold to remember his son. It broke Longo's heart. "What mother could toss out the things that are dear to the heart of her own son?"
"A mother who has given birth to an ungrateful son!" snarled Camellia at her husband. She turned swiftly and trudged back to her own bedroom and slammed the door closed.
Longo cupped his hands over his face and let his tears begin to fall.
Upon a lonely table sat a single cup of warmed soup and a small wafer of twice baked bread. A father raised his weary eyes from the letter that he had read a least a dozen times over and still he could not bear the pain of missing his only daughter.
He set the letter down upon the table and gently caressed a golden locket with a broken clasp and he whispered her name, "Lobelia!"
FrodoBaggins87 : Welcome! I love it when I get a review from a new reader! Yes, Bilbo had gone through a lot, but don't worry that hobbit has many things up his sleeve. I think before all this is done, Bilbo will looked back upon this and some how see that everything works out for the best!
MLynnBloom : You have given me the best compliment that I have ever gotten as far as writing goes! To draw a reader so far into the story to make them forget about what they know about Lobelia Sackville-Baggins from Tolkien's account, is the best thing you can say to a writer and their story! I am bursting with pride! I was worried if anyone reading this would never buy the idea that Lobelia had another side to her and could possibly even like her at some point! However, poor Lobelia had lost her faith in those that she had loved. It has to change a person in how they trust and believe in others. More to come on Lobelia later in the chapters.
Aemilia Rose: I love writing about villains such as Camellia and she is going to keep this story a bit more interesting in the further chapters! I hope you like it!