Bonus Chapter: How we got here A few months ago…
"Good Morning." Bluebell's words sounded false to her own ears. Objectively, it was a fine morning, the sun was shining and the birds were singing, but on this particular day she didn't feel as if anything could ever be good again. Bilbo had loved days like this. He without a doubt would have been sitting outdoors on their bench, a pipe in his hand and a cheerful smile spreading across his face while their daughter marveled at his smoke rings. So of course, she had come out to sit on the well-worn seat, not to smoke but to remember and to grieve. She hadn't expected to see a strange, tall, old man coming walking by. She was almost sure she should have remembered him. He felt like a person out of a distant dream or memory, with his odd, drab, grey clothes, his pointed hat, and his long gray beard which was as long as the man was tall.
"What do you mean?" he asked. "Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"
His queer manner of speaking stirred some memories from long ago, but it also irritated her. This man was a stranger and had no right to pry so much into a simple greeting. Bluebell cleared her throat before responding rather harshly, "I do not much care if you have a good morning, nor do I believe a good morning to be something able to be quantified. How I feel on this morning is none of your business, and I believe that a person may do good on any day they choose. If you have business here, then be about it. I have no desire to trade words with a stranger who speaks only in riddles."
"I see your tongue has sharpened over time, Bluebell Burrows. From my recollection you used to be an incredibly sweet and polite little fauntling. You used to give me flowers as thanks for sending my own into the sky. To think you would bite my head off when meeting me again."
"Gandalf." The name came back to Bluebell with astonishing clarity. She remembered the masan well now. In the past she had followed him everywhere when he was in the Shire, hoping to learn the secrets of how he managed to grow such beautiful flowers in sky without any soil or sun or rain to nourish them. She still remembered them fondly now, still had sketches and paintings she had made to try to do them justice. It had been a long time though, since he had been in the Shire last, and she was no longer the same girl with flowers in her eyes that Bilbo Baggins had fallen in love with.
"Dear Bluebell, I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure. Is this not Bibo Baggin's home?"
Bluebell felt her face pale at his words. "You have been away for a long time, Gandalf. This was Bilbo's home, but he passed away two and a half years ago along with his only child. I'm the only one that live here now."
Gandalf was silent, his face drawn with lines of fresh grief, mixed with confusion. Bluebell didn't blame him, she had had a hard timing believing he was gone even though she had nursed him on his sickbed.
"Why don't you come inside. It's bit early yet, but we could have an early luncheon and I could explain more about the circumstances." Bluebell smiled weakly at him, beckoning him inside and he followed with a small nod.
Bluebell gestured for him to have a seat while put together a tray for them to share. Though it was early, she grabbed a bottle of wine and wine glass for Gandalf. While she had made a decision early on to stay away from it in her grief, she had a feeling the wizard could do with something to help with the shock.
Once they were seated, there was a brief moment of silence as neither one of them seemed to know what to say. It was Gandalf who broke the silence.
"I have the unfortunate feeling that you don't just live in Bag-End because Bilbo was being a generous friend when he willed his estate to you. You mentioned a child. Were you its mother?"
Bluebell sighed. "I suppose I shouldn't lie to you when you're part of the reason Bilbo noticed me. He said he fell in love with me the moment he first saw my eyes light up looking at your fireworks. Rubbish, of course, considering how old we were then, but that was his story. Still, though, he courted me as soon as I was old enough and married me the very day I came of age, so perhaps he did know that early on. I fear he wouldn't recognize me now. I haven't felt the joy I felt back then since he and Rosabella died."
"Why don't you come with me then?" Gandalf asked suddenly with astonishing firmness.
"On your adventure?" Bluebell asked incredulously. "Whatever for. I know nothing about adventures, just housekeeping, children, and flowers, all of which are unlikely to come up on an adventure."
"It would be very good for you, indeed, and most fulfilling for me to see you living the way Bilbo would have wanted. As a child he had always wanted to go on an adventure. You could go on one for him. See the world beyond the Shire borders. Face obstacles you can actually see instead of endless grief and loneliness. Perhaps even find a new home."
"It would mean leaving Bag End. Bilbo and Rosabella loved this place. How could I abandon it?"
"I can't promise that you'll be able to return, but Bag End holds only memories for you and those you carry with you every step you take. Take a chance that maybe somewhere out there is something new that can bring back your smile. Bring back the little girl with stars in her eyes and flowers in her heart."
"Alright," Bluebell said. "I'll consider it, but first I want to know more about this adventure you're planning. Who is going on it and for what reason?"
"That, my dear, you'll find out at tea on Wednesday," Gandalf replied easily, his grin almost cheeky.
"Tea, Wednesday," Bluebell repeated. "When did we talk about tea on Wednesday? And why can't you tell me now?"
"We talked about Wednesday tea just now, my dear. Do pay attention. As for why I can't tell you about the adventure now, a wizard must be allowed his secrets. All will be revealed in time. In the meanwhile, I have business to see to." Gandalf quickly excused himself, leaving Bluebell exasperated, but also looking forward to something for the first time in a long time. Wednesday tea. Perhaps things could still be good after all.