Pressing Flowers

Chapter Two: Proposing Freedom

Bilbo choked on his pipe, the smooth smoke turning acidic in his throat, he coughed heavily for several minutes before gaining composure. Looking to go on an adventure? Oh Aulë, this is what he's been waiting for, this was his chance to escape! His jaw snapped shut as he tried not to allow his excitement to show on his face. An adventure! How his luck had suddenly changed. Bilbo paused for a moment, but what if Gandalf was looking for a Breeder, or one of the Cullers? They would be more suitable for an adventure. Bilbo tried not to get too excited, he needed to remain as calm as possible until he collected all the facts.

A look was exchanged between himself and Firik. As if they were almost agreeing to proceed with caution. His outward appearance was betraying no emotion, but inside he was a turbulent ocean of boundless emotions. Apprehension creeping into the back of his mind.

"A-a-an adventure?" He began, his stuttering was prominent in the presence of new people. He felt foolish for his lack of decorum. "I-I doubt y-y-you'd find anyone s-s-south of Bree that w-w-would take t-t-to adventures here, Gandalf." He continued, gently burying his fingers in the luscious warmth of Firik's pelt. "H-H-H-Hobbits are c-c-creatures of c-c-comfort, w-w-we're a simple f-folk. W-we don't care m-much for anything o-o-other than hearth and h-home." He finished. His face a rosy red from embarrassment. He sat himself back down on his bench, hands fiddling nervously on Firik, flattening his pelt down and trying to keep himself occupied.

"I'm looking for a very special and very specific Hobbit", as Gandalf began Bilbo felt himself deflate. Oh, so he had a specific Hobbit in mind, Bilbo's home must have simply been a social call for him before heading off to find his companion. "He's got a certain set of skills, and his mother said he had a desire for adventure like no other." Bilbo dug into his own brain, another adventure seeker? Seeking freedom from the Shire? Bilbo figured he wasn't the only ones that found his people's practices horrific, but he didn't think it was that common of a belief. "I'm sure you've heard of him, they say he longs for freedom like not other…" Gandalf trailed off, nibbling on the end of his pipe, observing Bilbo like a hawk observes his prey. He had only just entered the gateway until that moment, but he barely disturbing a blade of grace as he finally moved toward the Hobbit.

"H-h-have I heard of him?" He started, his voice sounding thick with emotions very suddenly. He barely noticed Gandalf moving toward him. The only thing warning of the wizard's approach was the gentle shifting of Firik repositioning himself, ever the guardian of Bilbo. "W-w-well even if I don't, I'm s-s-sure I can p-point you in t-t-the direction of s-s-s-someone who does." He said quietly, obviously giving up hope that the wizard would save him. What hope did he have now?

"I can guarantee you know him young master Baggins, for whoever would know you more than, well you.". The wizard joked softly, a hand reaching to gently rest on his shoulder after seeking permission from the dark wolf separating the Hobbit and the Grey. "After all, who better to join me than the one Hobbit who deserves freedom more than any other? Bilbo Baggins." Gandalf waited for Bilbo's response with a gentle grin. He wasn't sure how Bilbo would react after all these years. He had kept distance in hope that it would protect Bilbo, that it would give him the opportunity to find a mate and be happy, but if the empty smial and the lonely Hobbit was anything to go by he had come just in time.

Bilbo didn't move for a moment. He was almost certain that his jaw was open and that his expression was one of sheer shock. He could feel the sudden dampness behind his eyes but withheld the tears. He went from sullen and dark to practically vibrating with energy. His head snapped to look at the Wizard, his hazel pools staring into the warm unearthly blue of Gandalf. He stared for a moment before a large smile seemed to spread across his face when he detected no lies or deceit

"B-Bilbo Baggins may indeed be i-interested in your adventure, Master W-wizard! Would you please tell me more?" Bilbo said, bouncing slightly in his seat.

As it turned out Gandalf couldn't tell him more, the Wizard simply smiled after he had inquired about more information and said simply "I must retrieve the others, only then we shall discuss details, Master Baggins." Before telling him to start preparing a large dinner. Gandalf had not told Bilbo how many creatures there were in the company but said to make a large enough to feast for a small gathering of Hobbits. Bilbo knew the eating habits of Hobbits, thus knew for a fact that a small gathering of Hobbits ate more than a large gathering of men, and began to become frightened, but he was not going to surrender.

After Bilbo nodded and scurried off to the house he had thought he had heard scratching at the door, but simply shook it off nothing more than one of the Shire stray dogs wanting in at the smell of food. Firik had taken to sitting on a large pillow in a corner of the kitchen, catching scraps as they were lovingly tossed his way, wagging his large black plume every time his master spoke to him.

"I-i-it is looking up Firik. Maybe we can finally be away from this place… Maybe we do have a future after all!" Bilbo had spent the afternoon babbling away to Firik, who was content to eat any scrap of food dropped his way, and stare adoringly at his master. Finally, things were turning around for the pair, maybe Firik could finally run without worry for his master, they could finally be allowed peace that they both deserved. Both Bilbo and Firik knew that Bilbo was going overboard with the cooking, but whatever left uneaten could be preserved and saved for the journey, and as flour and sugars flew in Bilbo's haste Firik didn't much care. His master was happy. That was good enough for him.

The cooking continued well into the day, he had made deserts of all different kinds, fruit pies, maple rolls, tarts, cookies, and anything else he could use his sugar for. He made meat pies, roasted ducks, pheasants, what little ham he had, and even roasted three chickens, just in case. That wasn't even to mention the chips, fish, jams, and breads he had made to go along with it all. He was still cooking with vigor when a careful shout came from his entrance way announcing the arrival of Hamfast.

"Go' evenin' Master Baggins!" A voice flowered from the door, Bilbo smiled at the sound of his oldest and dearest friend's words.

"Hamfast!" Bilbo exclaimed happily turning his head to face the kitchen door where his gardener stood. "Just the hobbit I wanted to see! H-help yourself to the Blueberry Tarts; I have another batch coming out of the oven now." He instructed, always the mother hen to the Gamgee head of house, stuffing him full of food.

"Don' mind ef I do, Sir." Gaffer responded in a pleasant chortle, "Was' all this den, Baggins? Yous throwin' a party and I'm not 'nvited?" He continued, talking through a blueberry tart, causing small crumbs to puff out of his mouth. The action made Bilbo shiver in disgust, but he said nothing, knowing that Gaffer got enough about manners from the misses.

Bilbo slowed his kneading to a halt. He hadn't expected it to be so hard to tell Hamfast. He hadn't expected to grow so emotional. He felt the burn of tears behind his eyes as he turned. He must have looked a fool, tears forming, flour splashing his face and his hair. He snapped around quickly, so he didn't have to look at him as he talked, afraid of seeing betrayal or sadness from Ham, who at this point was family. His shoulders tensed and starting to tremble as he felt little droplets begin to fall from his eyes.

"I-…. I think I've found a-a-a way out H-H-Hamfast." His voice trembled with each word. Why was this so challenging? "I-I-I think I've f-f-found a transport out of the S-S-Shire. Near undetected, w-w-well protected from what G-G-Gandalf implied." He inhaled deeply as he turned again to face his oldest friend. "I plan on taking this out, Ham. W-w-w-we both know even if I survive the culling, I-I-I won't s-s-survive much long after." He practically whispered, starting a slow approach on Ham. The distress of leaving Hamfast in the grasp of the Shire was something palatable on Bilbo. Hamfast slowly stood, starting to walk across the small kitchen. "I-If this works I w-want you to live in B-B-Bag End." Bilbo swallowed, as Hamfast gathered him into a tight embrace. "If you won't d-d-do that, please burn it." He choked, "n-n-no one but the Gamgee family sh-sh-should live here after I-I'm gone." He was solid in one thing. It was the Gamgee family in this home or no one. Bilbo wouldn't have the Breeders soiling this home. Even if he didn't make it out, it was that or nothing.

"I-I'm so happy for ye' miste' Baggins." Hamfast stuttered through a thickness in his throat. "I would be o' great o'ner ta live 'n Bag End 'ntil ye' return!" He muttered quietly into Bilbo's shoulder, "'N I de' hope ye'll return, Masta' Baggins." He snorted on Bilbo's nice new vest, but Bilbo did not complain.

Hamfast's thick accent was hard for most to understand to begin with, but it was a language that Bilbo had learned during the trying times of the shire. Through thick and thin on both ends of the forty years they had known each other. Bilbo was proud to say that he could translate any word the Hobbit said at any given time, no matter what emotional turmoil he was in.

"I k-know the laws, but I will always c-come back for you, Gaffer. No matter what."

The dough Bilbo had been kneading had to be turned into biscuits after Gaffer had left. They had spent well over a half hour sobbing into each other's shoulder, both knowing that no, Bilbo likely wouldn't be coming back but it was the thought that counted to them both. Bilbo would try and that was more than some creatures would do. Because Bilbo Baggins didn't make empty promises, even if the Breeders killed him for trying to see the other hobbit again he would try.

When Bilbo gave up cooking, knowing now that he was only still cooking because of his nerves it was almost black outside. The sight of the time of day had him rushing off to change into something more comfortable; he changed out of his cooking britches into a pair of tan ones that almost matched his dirt pair. He removed his filthy shirt and vest and replaced it with a soft cream and tan striped cotton shirt. He then grabbed his house suspenders and pulled them up over his shoulders. He felt like he was ready, not for battle, or anything, but he was almost positive he could take whatever was thrown at him.

Oh how very wrong he was.

TBC