This chapter features the song "Cups." Be it from Lulu and the Lampshades or Anna Kendricks from Pitch Perfect.
It has been ten days since the Dainson siblings had first woke up in the Shire, entered Hobbiton, and first stepped into Bilbo Baggins' comfortable, fancy, underground home. In the meantime, even though there had been some sleepless nights for both Maia and Kyle, the two of them discussing the possibilities of their "teleportation" to Middle-earth (as Bilbo called it), the life in Hobbiton proved to be very content. Especially for Lori, who loved every single bit of it, minus the hobbits like Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.
The first night they had spent in Bag End proved to be restless. Lori had been a little afraid of sleeping in the rooms, since the back of the house had no windows or electricity for night lights, so when Kyle and Maia were sound asleep by the time it was past twelve, the little girl took her little flashlight and decided to go into the sitting room, taking her teddy bear with her. As cozy and cute as Bag End looked (like living the tale of Thumblina, Lori thought), the twisted roots gripping the wall looked like ghoulish fingers in the dark, even beneath her flashlight, making her shiver and whimper. She kept thinking about the ghouls that had attacked them back at home, making her too scared to fall asleep in fear of getting nightmares.
The sitting room was not far down the hall, but seeing the light coming from there and feeling the heat, the fire place was still lit. When she entered, she saw Bilbo Baggins had fallen asleep on the armchair, an open book in his lap. She giggled softly. Grandpa did the same thing; fall asleep in the middle of doing something, whether it be reading, drinking, watching TV, or smoking (one time, and it had earned him a burnt spot on his lap). She only knew Bilbo since this morning (or yesterday morning, given how late it is), but she already felt attached to him. Like an uncle, or big brother put together. A mixture of her grandparents and her siblings. Like a favorite character in a story, or the real-life version of an imaginary friend. She felt safe around him, like a second parent or guardian.
Lori went to pat Bilbo on the knee. "Bilbo?" she whispered.
She shook him until he woke up, twitching his nose while he blinked sleepily. "What?" he mumbled. Then he recognized her. "Oh, Lori...hey...what time is it?"
"Midnight, I think." She shrugged.
"Oh." Bilbo pinched his face. "Must've drifted off. I should probably...why aren't you asleep?"
Lori shifted, hugging her bear, suddenly shy. She was in her pajamas, her pants hot pink while printed with ponies and her shirt a pale pink with long sleeves, looking adorable, even though Bilbo had never seen nightwear like hers before. "I'm scared of the dark," she mumbled. "I didn't wanna wake Maia and Kyle. Can I stay here with you?"
Bilbo was loss for words for a moment. Personally, he felt that he would crossing boundaries on the little girl, because clearly he was a stranger to a small child who he had no close relations to, in family or race. On the other hand...he sighed and nodded.
Lori brightened and, to Bilbo's surprise, started crawling into his lap, moving the book over. Bilbo bit back a protest when she curled up and snuggled there, surprisingly fitting even though she wasn't that much smaller than he was. After brief feeling of intrusion faded, he relaxed in submission. He didn't like being touched, like most others who had boundaries, but with Lori...he actually found it quite comforting. He never really held a human child in his lap before, just a couple of little cousins of his from time to time, but Bilbo often had to remind himself to get use to it. Living alone can do that sometimes, he thought to himself.
"Do you think I'm scardy cat?" mumbled Lori, sleepily. Her little head was nestled in his shoulder, her bear propped between them.
Hesitantly, Bilbo wrapped his arms around the child, mostly so that she wouldn't fall when she fell asleep, but also to add reassurance. "Do you want to know a secret?" he said softly.
"Mm-hm..." She was almost asleep.
"I'm scared of the dark, too," he whispered. When he heard her silent breathing, like little wisps of air, a smile crept on his face, and soon he fell back asleep too.
The next morning, Maia had woken up before Kyle, being an early riser while the young teenage boy can sleep until two p.m. if he wanted. She had found Lori curled up with Bilbo, her thumb in her mouth, finding the sight sweet, though it gave a slightly uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. Usually, when Lori got scared at night, she would go to their parents' bedroom and curl up in between them, and when Mom and Dad were out of the picture, she either went to her grandparents, or Maia, or Kyle. Now she went to Bilbo. They barely knew the man, were barely settling in, and Lori seemed already imprint on the hobbit. It was funny, adorable, and sad, because eventually they would have leave, but Maia didn't interfere.
Later on, Bilbo had revealed to them every day that he had six meals a day: breakfast, second breakfast, elevenies, luncheon, afternoon tea, and dinner. One thing the kids knew fort certain was that they were never going to go hungry while they stayed here.
It had taken three days for the hobbits in Hobbiton to finally get used to the fact that there were three humans staying in their area, most especially in Bag End, a place that made some certain hobbits envious of the Dainsons staying the large, rich home that Mr. Baggins owned respectfully. The stares had lessened and become more friendly and polite, to their relief, but not throughly with some respectable families.
"How do hobbits know what's respectable or not?" Kyle pointed out one day, who was growing tired of the whispering and stares at their backs. He had been helping Bilbo repaint the door green that day, finding something to do other than play his gameboy or look at the hobbit's maps all day. "The whole thing sounds kind of ridiculous!"
"It's just the way it is!" exclaimed Bilbo. Sometimes he had to check his patience with the boy, who was undoubtedly the hot head of his siblings. Kyle proved to have this way of driving people crazy. Lori was like that, too, but in the preferable way while her brother knew how to make people angry. "I told you that we are quiet folk and are often weary of outsiders! If you must know, I'm feel very much the same as they do because that is how we live! It cannot be helped! You missed a spot," he added, and Kyle put a coat of green paint over the oak wood. Helping paint the door was also the least Kyle could do thank Bilbo for giving them a place to stay, even if it was temporary.
On the fourth day, Bilbo had finally managed to find proper-sized Shire clothes for the kids, shipped from a Brandybuck who had offered her seamstress skills, which was a relief because they each only had three pairs of clothes (including the PJs) and Maia found that was about time they did laundry. Also, Bilbo had meant it when he said Maia's tight jeans and tank top made her look too exposed in the eyes of the Shire folk; the hobbits staring wide-eyed and disapproval, including a few exclamations from some older folk, had confirmed it. She had worn her jeans for three days, because she couldn't bring herself to put on her shorts, which were really short and slightly torn.
Maia wore a simple violet skirt that ended at her shins (all hobbit dresses ended at their shins anyway), a white button down with long elbow-length sleeves, and chocolate-brown jerkin vest that she had to tie over her white shirt like a leather corset. She kept her cowboy boots and her hair down. The clothes were surprisingly comfortable, though Maia kept having nostalgic flashbacks of getting dressed for her musical rehearsals in the high school she just graduated from. While her casuals were hanging on the laundry line, she felt happier and less like an outsider.
Kyle was trickier to dress up, while Lori was the easiest of the three.
All Bilbo had to do was pick up some hand-me-downs from a few Took families and soon Lori had piles of little hobbit dresses to choose from, making it Christmas early for the little girl. Her favorite dress was white and puffy sleeved with blue bells and a little apron, much to Lori's delight.
Kyle, on the other hand, made it loud and clear that he was not wearing overalls, or shin length trousers, feeling that it would make look stupid like a yodeler. Bilbo eventually found man-sized trousers that were sent over through the market from nearby farmers over The Hill. They were slightly too big, so Bilbo had them hemmed at bottom, sewn by himself, and added a belt with it. It also came with a white long-sleeved button down shirt with a murky-green waistcoat and a blue overcoat. He also got worn man-sized boots, slightly big, but Kyle decided he wanted to keep his black-and-white sneakers, even though they didn't match with his new Shire clothing. When Kyle was wore all this, including the coat, Lori squealed in excitement, "You look exactly like the Artful Dodger in Oliver! AH! Do you have a tall hat, Mr. Bilbo?"
"Oh-ho, no! I am not wearing a tall hat!" Kyle retorted before Bilbo could speak. "This is as good as I'm gonna get, girl, so y'all take a good look at it before it's gone!" The protesting argument between the two younger siblings went on while Maia thanked Bilbo for all the clothes. That night, Bilbo slumped on the bench outside to smoke his pipe, feeling exhausted but rather proud of himself.
For the rest of the time, Bilbo had already shown them all of Hobbiton, from the houses to Green Dragon Inn to the markets and back. The beauty of it all never ceased to amaze and enjoy. Bilbo had even taken them to the tavern for a drink (though Bilbo drank beer, while the kids ended up with cider or milk, since soda wasn't an option anymore). Beer was famous in Texas as well, but here in Middle-earth, with or without a parent's permission, Maia was already considered old enough to drink beer.
Excited by this fact, Kyle and Lori urged Maia to order a beer and give it a shot.
After some convincing, Maia finally gave in and Bilbo happily brought over a pint for her. Some other friendly hobbit overheard this first drink ceremony and gathered to watch as Maia held her mug with both hands, hesitating while Kyle and Lori started chanting with pumping fists, "Drink! Drink! Drink!" Soon, a few other younger and more curious hobbits joined in. Trying not to laugh, Maia sipped the beer, which tasted bland and bitter, but when the chants continued ruthlessly, she ended up taking larger gulps, the liquid burning her throat with a vengeance. They all watched with wide-eyed, gaping awe until she drained her mug, slammed it down with a gasp (trying not to gag), and then a loud uproar of cheers came after that. Maia hiccuped and smiled, already feeling woozy and drunk, her vision slightly blurry. She could feel Bilbo rubbing her back sympathetically before starting to introduce them to a few of these hobbits, who turned out to be Took cousins of himself, which explained a lot.
The Tooks, if anything, proved to be much more likable than of the most hobbits in Hobbiton. Some of the men had even complimented continuously on Maia's beauty, saying that she could be the Green Lady herself. The Dainsons could not understand why they were one of the least respectable families when their personalities alone could gain them many friends. Even if Bilbo didn't realize it, he was lucky to be related to them.
In the tavern, Maia had then started singing, which to Bilbo and the hobbits' amazement, was quite a beautiful voice. The performance was strange, but extremely fun, since the girl was using her mug as her musical instrument. They watched with stolen breaths and silence as she patted, clapped and flipped the cup with talented ease before she started singing what Kyle and Lori recognized as "Cups":
I got my ticket for the long way 'round
Two bottle 'a whiskey for the way
And I sure would like some sweet company
And I'm leaving tomorrow, wha-do-ya say?
When I'm gone
When I'm gone
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone
You're gonna miss me by my hair
You're gonna miss me everywhere, oh
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone
I've got my ticket for the long way 'round
The one with the prettiest of views
It's got mountains, it's got rivers, it's got sights to give you shivers
But it sure would be prettier with you
When I'm gone
When I'm gone
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone
You're gonna miss me by my walk
You're gonna miss me by my talk, oh
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone
Her song was awarded with an applause, urges for more songs and even a nearby fiddler offered to play music for her, but Maia looked so dizzy that Bilbo announced that it was time to go. When they said good-bye, Bilbo and Kyle had to escort a dizzy, but jittery Maia back home, while Lori tottered ahead. "I think we just found out that you are the cheapest drunk in history," commented Kyle.
"Shut up," giggled Maia, her cheeks rosy. "Beer tasted awful...don't see why...so funny...they were all funny looking people! Cutie pies! Heh, heh, heh!" Kyle smiled and was trying not laugh as she stumbled, and Bilbo, though being much shorter, caught her around the waist.
"No more beers for you, missy," grumbled Bilbo, and Maia laughed harder. When they got home, Maia had reached the bathroom and threw up. Afterwards, Bilbo escorted her to bed and collapsed on the mattress.
The next morning at breakfast, Maia had woken up from a hangover and felt terrible, but Kyle and Lori were laughing at her. While her siblings were hanging out in the living room, looking at Bilbo's books and maps, she sat the table with her head in her hands and Bilbo had already made her tea, which she took gratefully.
"Mom and Dad would've killed me," she muttered. She rubbed her aching brow. "Ugh, never again..."
"Well, if it's any consolation," Bilbo tried, "I had three beers on my thirty-third name day and was told I ended up dancing and singing ridiculously on the tavern tables. My father showed no mercy the next morning, of course. It was the first and last time I got drunk like that."
"Thirty-third?" Maia eyed him under her tangled hair. "Think that's a little old for your dad to be scolding you?"
"Well, not if I just came of age at the time."
"Huh? Wait! Thirty-three is when...when you become a legal adult?" Despite her headache, Maia observed Bilbo more closely. The hobbit could not be older than thirty-five or so, or young-looking early forties (the childish twinkle in his eyes made him look young). "Can I ask how old are you?"
"Fifty-one."
"Really?" Maia was surprised. "You look much younger."
"Oh, ah...heh, heh! Sorry, hobbits have a different age process than Men, though not by much. Hobbits can live up to one hundred and ten years, while Men can live up to eighty years."
"Yeah, that's a scientific fact, but there's a lot people...humans that have lived past a hundred!"
"Oh, I have no doubt about it!" agreed Bilbo. "My grandfather, the Old Took, had made past a hundred and thirty before he finally passed away."
"A hundred and..." Maia's eyes widened. "Damn!"
Bilbo let out a startled laugh. "I reckon that most hobbits make it their goal to reach that age before they die. I know that I'm one of them."
"Well, if you're planning to make to a hundred and thirty," Maia said, raising her tea cup, "then I'm planning on making it to a hundred and one. Let's see which of us beats the record first."
"Cheers to that," complimented Bilbo, clinking tea cups with her.
Later on the Dainsons had also attempted explaining their favorite food recipes to Bilbo, who was listening with a certain longing on his face. Chili with sprinkled cheese and peppers, deep-fried steak with A-1, brisket tacos, combo pizza, apple pie, ice cream, hot-spicy chicken wings, and (Kyle's personal favorite) spuds. Spuds were massive potatoes that were normally stuffed with all the topping available: cheese, butter, sour cream, bacon bits, caramelized onions, mushrooms, broccoli, chives-
"Oh, my God!" groaned Maia, interrupting Kyle. "So many calories! I swear that one bite fills you up for three days!"
"Hey, just because you're a skinny stick, doesn't mean I need to be!" complained Kyle. Bilbo chuckled at this, listening while he was smoking his pipe. He did wonder if a spud would make up all six meals a day. He had some potatoes and some ingredients. Maybe if Dainsons had time, they would teach him how to make one.
Finally, on the tenth day, it was up until past nine 'o'clock that Bilbo realized that the kids had decided to sleep in. He had checked into their room and found them all still passed out, Kyle's black hair a tangled mess, Maia's legs tangled in the sheets, while Lori slept on her back at the end, holding her teddy bear and making no noise. They all wore their unusual night attire, or "pajamas" as they called them. All and all, they looked peaceful.
Sighing, Bilbo gently closed the door a crack, went to dress in his normal trousers, white shirt with a golden waistcoat, and his favorite yellow scarf, grabbed his pipe, and then went outside his front door to greet yet another lovely day in Hobbiton. The sun was warm, the birds were singing, the people were chatting happily from a distance...Bilbo inhaled and exhaled, stretching his muscles with satisfaction, the peace of this particular day already taking over.
When he sat down on the bench, lighting his pipe with the best weed, Old Toby, its sweet and spiciness filling his lungs soothingly, he sucked in the pipe and blew out three perfectly round smoke rings. Bilbo then closed his eyes, letting the morning sunlight bask his cheeks as he breathed into the smoke and let his mind clear of all worries and thoughts of anything before starting the day.
Suddenly, the smoke ring shrunk into the shape of a butterfly, which fluttered playfully around the meditated hobbit, until it darted into his upturned nose, startling him out of his dozing.
Blinking and wriggling his nose, Bilbo looked up and was surprised to see a tall, old man in gray clothes and a gray pointed hat. His beard was also gray, rather long and scruffy, and so were the sharp pair of eyes under his immensely bushy eyebrows. In both his fingerless gloved hands was a long, wooden staff, no doubt polished and gnarled at the base like the twisted roots of an oak tree.
The old man was staring down at him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.
When this continued, Bilbo shifted uncomfortably, feeling intimidated by this tall human stranger, but he nodded his head politely without standing up. "Good morning," he said, tilting his pipe, hoping it hinted at the stranger to move along.
Instead, the old man tilted his head. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice low and gruff, but not without a tad of enthusiasm. "Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you feel good on this particular morning? Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on? Hm?"
Bilbo sat, his pipe frozen in hand, slightly stunned from how this stranger could ask three direct questions at once over one daily greeting, let alone all in one breath without effort. Face slightly pinched, he waved his pipe to relocate his speech. "All of them at once, I suppose," he answered, not knowing how else to put it. After all, he was certain that nobody had ever asked anyone about the meaning of their "good mornings" so directly before.
The wizard's smile faded and his eyes narrowed slightly as he continued to observe the hobbit with a more calculating look. Now feeling uncomfortable, sensing that this man wasn't about to leave, Bilbo finally gave in. "Can I help you?"
"That remains to be seen," murmured the stranger, almost to himself. Then in a bolder tone, "I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure." He raised his bushy eyebrows in inquiry.
Bilbo was so surprised that he didn't feel the pipe handle leave his mouth. "An adventure..." he stammered, but flinched back as if the word were the cause of a ridiculous notion. He almost scoffed, but instead looked at the old man up in the eye, pointing out mildly, "No, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures."
Then he stood up and walked over to his mailbox. "Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things," he explained, while opening his mailbox and plucked out the letters. "Make you late for dinner. Heh, heh." He chuckled without humor, as he started shuffling through his letters, chewing his pipe handle casually while trying to ignore the gray stranger.
Now certain that the man wasn't going away, Bilbo grew increasingly annoyed and then finally made a grunt of dismissal before turning around. "Good morning," he saluted, while starting to head back inside, wondering if the Dainson siblings were awake yet.
"To think that I should live to be 'good morninged' by Belladonna Took's son!" Bilbo froze at the man's rude accusation, but it was his dear old mother's name that made him turn around. "As if I were selling buttons at the door!" the stranger added scornfully.
Bilbo frowned, feeling protective of his dead mother's name all of the sudden. "Beg your pardon?"
The old man shook his head, looking disappointed. "You've changed," he said sadly, "and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins."
Seeing that the gray stranger in a tall pointy hat knew his name—knew his own mother's name—Bilbo grew slightly wary. Come to think of it, this human looked slightly familiar... "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"Well, you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it," the old man pointed out. He spread his arms in greeting. "I'm Gandalf. And Gandalf means...well, me!" He gave a small smile.
"Gandalf...Gandalf!" His eyes widened as long-buried memories started crashing back, as Bilbo stared at the old man—no, the wizard—in amazement. "Not Gandalf the wandering wizard who made such excellent fireworks? Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve! Heh, heh—ahem!" Bilbo cleared his throat, cutting his Tookish excitement short and then quickly regained his haughty figure, eying the wizard suspiciously.
"No idea you were still in business," he said, casually putting his pipe between his teeth, trying to act unswayed.
Gandalf's smile faded. "And where else should I be?" he inquired, sounding a tad insulted.
"Where else—? Ahem!" Bilbo shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. He started puffing his pipe, covering his awkwardness.
Gandalf squinted at him from behind his beak-like nose. "Well, I'm pleased to find you remember something about me..." He sniffed. "Even if it's only my fireworks." Then he nodded to himself, mood changing to satisfaction when he announced, "Yes. Well, that's decided!"
Watching the wizard shift the staff, Bilbo was pleased to note that he was finally leaving, when Gandalf pointed at him, "It'll be very good for you..."
Bilbo started to smile, then froze with a confused frown. Wait, what?
"...and most amusing for me." He gathered up his cloak and nodded to Bilbo as he made to depart. "I shall inform the others."
"Inform the who? What? No. No. No—wait!" Panicking and forgetting his manners, Bilbo started retreating up his porch steps before facing the wizard again. "We do not want any adventures here, thank you. Not today. Not—I suggest you try Over the Hill or...Across the Water." He started to go inside, but not before adding a final "Good morning!" and then hastily retreated inside without wasting breath.
Leaning against the door, Bilbo fumbled with the lock and latched it in place, heart pounding rapidly. Satisfied, he made to move, but then a scratching noise made him freeze and listen. What on earth is that blasted wizard doing now?
He went to look out the window. Suddenly, a bearded face appeared, making him gasp and leap into the hallway in fright, out of sight. The face lingered for a moment, and Bilbo waited until it was gone.
Nerves still tethering on edge, Bilbo darted to his other window in the sitting room and watched until the wizard marched out of sight.