A/N: I'm so sorry. While this story doesn't have that many readers that's no excuse for neglectfulness. So, I'm taking time out of my schedule to type up the second to last chapter. I will try my hardest to pace and challenge myself so we'll see. Enjoy. I love reviews, even though I'm rather undeserving of them. sheepish.
"Odd business, if you ask me," said the Sandyman to his fellow hobbits down at the Green Dragon that day, September 22nd. "A big party and how-to-do up at Bag End, complete with that mischievous Gandalf and then it's suddenly cancelled. Very odd indeed." He gave a nod as if that sealed it and took a drink from his mug.
The Gaffer eyed him and replied, "Sandyman, don't jump to any conclusions. You know as well as everyone else that there was an awful storm this afternoon. Could've ruined any party, even Mr. Baggins'."
Sandyman shrugged. "Shouldn't Gandalf have been able to fix it? He is a wizard after all."
A nearby hobbit glanced at the Gaffer and then spoke up. "He may be a wizard, but he ain't able to do everything."
"My dear Bilbo, it is not within my power. I have done my best." So Gandalf claimed and persuaded and genuinely huffed and puffed about until his bushy eyebrows nearly jumped off his face but nothing could convince poor Bilbo. Limitations? Nonsense! He was Gandalf the Grey! Master of fireworks, enchanter of hobbit children, magnificent wizard, steadfast friend, and magician extraordinaire! Surely he could do something!
With a nervous pacing about Bag End and a great deal of twiddling of thumbs, not to mention countless cups of tea, Bilbo Baggins awaited the recovery of one of the few hobbits he held dear. He had moved her to the best room in the house, provided her with all the comforts she could want, and had even sat by her side while she slept, but his dear little gem, Ruby, his listener, audience, encourager, and friend, lay still, sleeping fitfully and growing increasingly pale.
Of course a bit of water and a small cold couldn't carry someone off so easily, could it? Ah, but you're forgetting the Ancient. Bilbo soon learned from the innkeeper, Ruby's Screecher, the reason for all those visits and for all those questions. The past could not be so easily forgotten and while dear Ruby may not have understood why it was so important she be inside at certain times, take care of a runny nose, and make sure to eat enough, her caretaker did, remembering the frightful day that carried them off and brought the sweet thing into her charge. Such things should never be forgotten but the comprehension of a child is much more simplistic than that of our own and these precautions were quite lost on Ruby. Thus, a bit of water and a small cold soon turned into a large problem for her, just as it had for her parents.
She was looking better that day, Bilbo was sure. Her cheeks less pale, her blue eyes brighter, her speech more animated. She was to get better and the old Baggins knew the precise thing that would help her, besides the extra fluffed pillows, spare blankets, and open window with a view of the hills of the Shire. No, he now knew exactly what would help bring her back, just in time for October and the beauty of their home country in the fall. Just in time for fireside chats and stories. Just in time for holidays and walks. Just in time for family. Just in time for Bilbo.
"Good morning my old thing. My goodness, you look positively stifled! We need to open this window!" With a dash and a quick grin, the round window was open and the smell of fall and cooking fires drifted in.
"Mr. Gandalf was just telling me about the battle with…Saw…Saw-ron…Sauron." There was a smile there that looked cheerier and livelier. Yes, there was hope left for her and her old hobbit friend was sure that she was going to make a full recovery and pull through, just like the tough hobbit stuff he was made of.
Gandalf lit his pipe, blowing blue smoke rings until the space around him was cloudy, but not menacing looking such as a sorcerer casting some sort of spell on the place. He brought the cozy smell of pipeweed and the delight of smoke pictures into the little bedroom, just as a hobbit hole should feel. Ruby giggled lightly at the ship made by Gandalf's smoke and even clapped at his stories of Bilbo's bravery and admiralty among all hobbits. He was established as the best of them all and the stories kept coming until a lull arrived. Just in time for tea.
"I have just the thing to make this complete," Bilbo commented, half to himself and half to Ruby. The hobbit skipped out of the room and came bobbing back in, carrying a small box that his little friend vaguely recognized. He opened it for her and placed it's contents in her lap as her wide blue eyes grew to an even larger size.
Her necklace.
A silence descended upon the room that had not been known to those halls for months, save for the first few days after September 22nd. The birds chattered outside, the wind brushed a sunflower against the shutter, and still Ruby remained motionless, lightly brushing the fine stone pendant that now lay between her fingers. Then she looked up.
"Mr. Bilbo, will you give this to the next ruby in your family?" she asked inquisitively, those eyes seeing beyond the years that had wrought its toll on her small body.
The question caught poor Bilbo off guard, having expected the little hobbit girl to jump up and hug him, miraculously cured or at least even better than before. Gandalf was also surprised at the expression on dear Ruby's face.
Bilbo smiled a little and then said, "Why would I need to? I have one already," and he patted her hand and picked up his tea, which clattered when he tried to place it back in its saucer.
She looked down again and then said, "Thank you. For everything, Uncle Bilbo." Ruby laid her head back and closed her eyes for a moment, loosening her clutch on the necklace.
Gandalf, ever known for his fireworks, looked more like a stooped old man than ever before that day, clutching his staff in one hand, hugging Bilbo with the other. It had started to rain again, a storm similar to that of September 22nd's. Only this one didn't interrupt a birthday. It interrupted a funeral.
Just in time for October and the falling of the leaves. Just in time for the days to get shorter and Gandalf to be called back to darker business. Just in time for Bilbo to say goodbye.
"I daresay, my old friend," said Gandalf as a roll of thunder interrupted the monotonous sound of the fire in the hearth and the creaking of Bilbo's chair. "She chose to leave this world with the heavens making a clatter." He took a sip of his tea. "Seems to suit her, being such a boisterous thing."
Bilbo glanced at the fire, burning low and red, crackling every once in a while to break the stillness, competing with the roaring of the storm and the ticking of the clock. He held in his hands a small box, the one thing that had kept him from fingering the contents of his pockets during the funeral. The one thing that she had insisted he keep at Bag End, to pass on to the next precious gem in the family. And so he would.
"I do believe I'm in the mood for writing another chapter in my book, Gandalf. I hope you don't mind me excusing myself to continue on in this old hobbit's tale. I'm afraid there are many more chapters to go." He rose from his chair and set the box on the mantelpiece.
Gandalf smiled, drained his cup, and took out his pipe. "I'm sure there are, my dear Bilbo. I'm sure there are."
A/N: And so ends Ruby's tale. But don't worry. I will include a final chapter. Thank you for reading this story. I really enjoyed writing it. Stick around for the last chapter. I promise it won't take long.