Disclaimer: I own Grace/Jean. All other's are Tolkien's.
(At one or two times, I ad-libbed, or directly quoted Tolkien, so if
anything sounds too intelligent for me to have written, then assume that it
is Tolkien's)
Chapter 9
A Long Expected Party
The evening went along nicely. The guests were 'tucking in the corners', the small hobbit-children were chasing each other between fireworks that Gandalf had not yet lit, despite his and Iskalistari's efforts to keep them away, and the older Hobbit lads and lasses were dancing. Frodo broke out of the circle of dancing and joined Sam at the bar. "Cummon, Sam, ask Rosie for a dance!" He prodded. Grace was sitting just across the bar, helping with the drinks. "Yes, do! She does like you." She grinned, agreeing with Frodo. "I think I'll just have another ale." Sam said quickly, reaching for the mug of ale that Grace was holding. "No, you don't!" She shouted, joyfully, and held it out of his reach, "Not until you've danced a turn with Rose!" "Cummon!" Frodo exclaimed, talking Sam by the shoulders, and pushing him into Rose, who happened to dance by. Frodo laughed at Sam's expression, but his merriment only lasted a second. "Cummon, you too!" Grace laughed as she tossed her towel to a near-by Hobbit, grabbed Frodo's hand, and pulled them both into the dance.
After one or two dances, Grace managed to get away from the dancing Hobbits, and quickly made her way over to a tent where two other Hobbits were waiting. "What took you so long?" Merry asked. "I was being pestered by lads wanting to dance." She replied, a smile playfully spreading across her lips. "Let's go!" Pippin said, pulling Merry's arm, who caught Grace's arm. The three mischievous Hobbits poked their heads around a corner, and located Gandalf's wagon. It was still loaded with many fireworks. Grace and Merry gave Pippin a leg-up, and Pip rooted around the fireworks, looking for one. After a second or two, he held up a rather small cylinder. "No! No! The big one! Big one!" Merry pressed. "Hurry, Gandalf might come back!" Grace hissed. Pippin held up another one. This one was much larger, and it was in the shape of a dragon. Grace nodded enthusiastically, while Merry smiled, mouth agape.
They hurried into a tent, where they proceeded to set up the contraption. Pippin reached down to light it. "There! It's done!" He announced. "You're supposed to stick it in the ground!" Merry said, angrily, and pushed it to Pippin. "It is in the ground!" Pippin replied, pushing it towards Grace. "Outside!" She said, and pushed it back to Pip just before turning around, and running out of the tent. "This was you're idea!" Pippin accused the retreating Hobbit, as the fuse burnt down, and the powder inside was ignited. As it soared into the sky, a surprised Took and Brandybuck were thrown back onto the ground, and covered with stoot. Grace watched, awed, from behind a near-by tree. After the dragon had swooped over the field, Merry turned to Pippin, and said. "That was good." "Right." Pip replied, "Let's get another one!" Just then, Gandalf appeared, and took Merry and Pippin by the ear. "Merryaddoc Brandybuck, and Peregrine Took," he sighed, "I might've known." "I wasn't just us!" Pippin protested. "That's right! Grace helped us!" Merry added. "Don't go blaming others for what you have done." Gandalf scolded. As Gandalf turned to head towards the tent that served as a kitchen, Grace leaned from behind the tree that happened to be at Gandalf's back, and jauntily waved at he fugitive Merry and Pippin as they were being hauled off to do the dishes.
Later that evening, when all were seated, Bilbo stood up. "Speech! Speech!" The Hobbits cheered. With a smile and a bow, Bilbo hopped onto a barrel, and began. "My dear Bagginses and Boffins," there was cheering, "Tooks and Brandybucks," then louder cheering from the two clans erupted, "Grubbs," after this, each family simply cheered as though simply to outdo the last, "Chubbs, Hornblowers, Bolgers, Bracegirdles, and Proudfoots!" "Proudfeet!" One older Proudfoot corrected. Bilbo waved his hand indifferently. "Today is my one hundred and eleventh birthday!" Bilbo announced. The announcement was followed with many 'happy birthday!'s. "But alas," Bilbo sighed, "eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits!" There was general cheering and 'aww'ing. This was the kind of speech that Hobbits liked: short and obvious. Grace squirmed. This wasn't like Bilbo. Something was up. Was he about to announce that he leaving? No, he wouldn't give the Sackville Bagginses the satisfaction of having Bag End for a while at least. Then Bilbo continued with something the Hobbits didn't like as well as the previous part of his speech. "I don't know half of you half as well as I should like and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve." None of the Hobbits spoke, each trying to figure out if it worked out into a compliment. Grace glanced over at Frodo who looked as though he were trying to keep from laughing. "I-" Bilbo stuttered, "I've things to do..." He let the sentence trail off, and then said to himself: "I've put this off for far too long." He took a deep breath, then readressed the crowd, "I regret to announce: this is the end! I'm going now. I bid you all a very fond farewell." Grace jumped out of her chair, about to run over to Bilbo to beg him to stay, but then Bilbo looked directly over at her, and she stopped. "Goodbye." He said quietly, just before he vanished. Every Hobbit assembled gasped. Echoes of 'What's going on?', 'Where'd he go?', and other such things vibrated around the tent. Grace turned to seek out Gandalf and ask him about it, but discovered that he had left his place in the cooking tent by Merry and Pippin, who were soapy from their elbows down, but still covered with soot everywhere else. Grace nearly cried. Bilbo had left, hadn't taken her with him, nor even deemed her important enough to tell her what was going on!
The rest of the evening was semi-chaos. Guests were unhappy, and could only be made comfortable again by more eating and drinking. Every small Hobbit-child had begun crying, assuming that their parents or grandparents were about to disappear as Bilbo had. "So Gandalf just up and dissapeared too?" Grace asked, as she bounced a sobbing six-year-old Hobbit on her hip. "We didn't see him after Bilbo left." Pippin replied. Grace nodded glumly, as she shifted the Hobbit-child from her hip, to her arms. With a hiccup and a sigh, the child fell asleep. Grace turned her head to the starry sky. 'Where are you, Bilbo...?'
Chapter 9
A Long Expected Party
The evening went along nicely. The guests were 'tucking in the corners', the small hobbit-children were chasing each other between fireworks that Gandalf had not yet lit, despite his and Iskalistari's efforts to keep them away, and the older Hobbit lads and lasses were dancing. Frodo broke out of the circle of dancing and joined Sam at the bar. "Cummon, Sam, ask Rosie for a dance!" He prodded. Grace was sitting just across the bar, helping with the drinks. "Yes, do! She does like you." She grinned, agreeing with Frodo. "I think I'll just have another ale." Sam said quickly, reaching for the mug of ale that Grace was holding. "No, you don't!" She shouted, joyfully, and held it out of his reach, "Not until you've danced a turn with Rose!" "Cummon!" Frodo exclaimed, talking Sam by the shoulders, and pushing him into Rose, who happened to dance by. Frodo laughed at Sam's expression, but his merriment only lasted a second. "Cummon, you too!" Grace laughed as she tossed her towel to a near-by Hobbit, grabbed Frodo's hand, and pulled them both into the dance.
After one or two dances, Grace managed to get away from the dancing Hobbits, and quickly made her way over to a tent where two other Hobbits were waiting. "What took you so long?" Merry asked. "I was being pestered by lads wanting to dance." She replied, a smile playfully spreading across her lips. "Let's go!" Pippin said, pulling Merry's arm, who caught Grace's arm. The three mischievous Hobbits poked their heads around a corner, and located Gandalf's wagon. It was still loaded with many fireworks. Grace and Merry gave Pippin a leg-up, and Pip rooted around the fireworks, looking for one. After a second or two, he held up a rather small cylinder. "No! No! The big one! Big one!" Merry pressed. "Hurry, Gandalf might come back!" Grace hissed. Pippin held up another one. This one was much larger, and it was in the shape of a dragon. Grace nodded enthusiastically, while Merry smiled, mouth agape.
They hurried into a tent, where they proceeded to set up the contraption. Pippin reached down to light it. "There! It's done!" He announced. "You're supposed to stick it in the ground!" Merry said, angrily, and pushed it to Pippin. "It is in the ground!" Pippin replied, pushing it towards Grace. "Outside!" She said, and pushed it back to Pip just before turning around, and running out of the tent. "This was you're idea!" Pippin accused the retreating Hobbit, as the fuse burnt down, and the powder inside was ignited. As it soared into the sky, a surprised Took and Brandybuck were thrown back onto the ground, and covered with stoot. Grace watched, awed, from behind a near-by tree. After the dragon had swooped over the field, Merry turned to Pippin, and said. "That was good." "Right." Pip replied, "Let's get another one!" Just then, Gandalf appeared, and took Merry and Pippin by the ear. "Merryaddoc Brandybuck, and Peregrine Took," he sighed, "I might've known." "I wasn't just us!" Pippin protested. "That's right! Grace helped us!" Merry added. "Don't go blaming others for what you have done." Gandalf scolded. As Gandalf turned to head towards the tent that served as a kitchen, Grace leaned from behind the tree that happened to be at Gandalf's back, and jauntily waved at he fugitive Merry and Pippin as they were being hauled off to do the dishes.
Later that evening, when all were seated, Bilbo stood up. "Speech! Speech!" The Hobbits cheered. With a smile and a bow, Bilbo hopped onto a barrel, and began. "My dear Bagginses and Boffins," there was cheering, "Tooks and Brandybucks," then louder cheering from the two clans erupted, "Grubbs," after this, each family simply cheered as though simply to outdo the last, "Chubbs, Hornblowers, Bolgers, Bracegirdles, and Proudfoots!" "Proudfeet!" One older Proudfoot corrected. Bilbo waved his hand indifferently. "Today is my one hundred and eleventh birthday!" Bilbo announced. The announcement was followed with many 'happy birthday!'s. "But alas," Bilbo sighed, "eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits!" There was general cheering and 'aww'ing. This was the kind of speech that Hobbits liked: short and obvious. Grace squirmed. This wasn't like Bilbo. Something was up. Was he about to announce that he leaving? No, he wouldn't give the Sackville Bagginses the satisfaction of having Bag End for a while at least. Then Bilbo continued with something the Hobbits didn't like as well as the previous part of his speech. "I don't know half of you half as well as I should like and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve." None of the Hobbits spoke, each trying to figure out if it worked out into a compliment. Grace glanced over at Frodo who looked as though he were trying to keep from laughing. "I-" Bilbo stuttered, "I've things to do..." He let the sentence trail off, and then said to himself: "I've put this off for far too long." He took a deep breath, then readressed the crowd, "I regret to announce: this is the end! I'm going now. I bid you all a very fond farewell." Grace jumped out of her chair, about to run over to Bilbo to beg him to stay, but then Bilbo looked directly over at her, and she stopped. "Goodbye." He said quietly, just before he vanished. Every Hobbit assembled gasped. Echoes of 'What's going on?', 'Where'd he go?', and other such things vibrated around the tent. Grace turned to seek out Gandalf and ask him about it, but discovered that he had left his place in the cooking tent by Merry and Pippin, who were soapy from their elbows down, but still covered with soot everywhere else. Grace nearly cried. Bilbo had left, hadn't taken her with him, nor even deemed her important enough to tell her what was going on!
The rest of the evening was semi-chaos. Guests were unhappy, and could only be made comfortable again by more eating and drinking. Every small Hobbit-child had begun crying, assuming that their parents or grandparents were about to disappear as Bilbo had. "So Gandalf just up and dissapeared too?" Grace asked, as she bounced a sobbing six-year-old Hobbit on her hip. "We didn't see him after Bilbo left." Pippin replied. Grace nodded glumly, as she shifted the Hobbit-child from her hip, to her arms. With a hiccup and a sigh, the child fell asleep. Grace turned her head to the starry sky. 'Where are you, Bilbo...?'