A Long Expected Party and Not-So Expected Vegetable Raid

If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.

-J.R.R. Tolkien

22 September 3017, of the Third Age

1 Winterfilth 1417, Shire-Reckoning Time...

Sunlight streamed through the windows of Bag End the next morning, the morning of Bilbo's party, and I opened my eyes listening to a rooster crow. When I fully realized where I was, I noticed that I was also quite alone. I leapt out of bed, tiptoeing slowly down the hall.

"Frodo? Sam?" I asked cautiously, and cocked my head. From the direction of the kitchen, joyful shouts could be heard and so I walked myself there to find Merry, Pippin, and Frodo cheering aloud as Sam flipped sausages and mushrooms in the air, which smelled delicious.

"Quite the master of culinary arts, Samwise Gamgee!" Frodo laughed, clapping, and Merry joined the excitement with pancake batter.

Soon Pippin noticed me. "Well look who's finally awake!" He cried in his high voice. "I peeked into your room but, you were still sleeping."

The other three hobbits turned.

"Come on, join us!" Merry gave the invitation and I gladly accepted.

The scene was so joyous and alive that I couldn't help myself to want to join them; the feeling was contagious. In my nightgown I started frying bacon and mushrooms, and it wasn't long before we had finished the grand breakfast and were sitting together at Frodo's table, exchanging joyous words of conversation. Pippin and Merry had gotten over their drunkenness from the night before and were back to their normal, perky selves.

After the table was cleared, it was decided that we hobbits would leave Bag End and attend to the wide open spaces of the Shire in hopes of letting Bilbo have some peace while planning his party. He wanted his home empty to write, too, and to avoid relatives.

And we didn't want to have to clean his hobbit hole.

Sam went one way and Frodo another.

"Remember Sam, Gandalf's coming today!" Frodo waved cheerfully, a piece of straw between his teeth and a book in his hands. He waved goodbye and took off into the fields.

Sam himself departed to tend Bag End's garden. "No use lettin' it overgrow for the party," he said after we attempted to stop him.

Thus, I followed Merry and Pippin through the fields of the Shire, stopping only when we reached a wooden pasture. The boys seemed overly excited about it; inside several fat ponies grazed, and beyond it, there was a large, very large, vegetable garden.

"Let's go," Merry said, vaulting over the fence with ease.

"I don't know…" I said nervously, in spite of myself.

"Do you ride?" Pippin asked, blinking innocently.

"Yes…"

"Well, come on then," Pippin replied cheerfully, helping me up.

We approached three of the ponies and Pippin mounted one himself, Merry helped me up and then mounted himself.

"Now we'll wait," Merry said finally, walking his pony in a small circle. "This is where the fun begins."

My pony's ears flicked lazily and I got the nervous idea that "fun" to Merry and Pippin was something different than to be expected. I frowned and pet my mount's neck.

Suddenly the owner of the farm burst out of his barn, waving a pitchfork and screaming, attempting to catch us in the act of stealing ponies, or taking free rides at least. Merry gave a hoot as his pony shied away from the sharp object that its master was holding, bolting in the opposite direction. The other ponies with a whinny bucked and galloped too, until we were in a midst of stampeding animals.

While the boys may have been experts at handling frightened ponies, I was not, and I clung to my steed's back and grabbed tufts of mane to keep myself on his back while he reared and bucked, jumped and sped away from his master. Eventually the ponies calmed and I saw that Merry and Pippin had made it so that the farmer had chased us all the way to his vegetable patch and had cornered us in.

As they slowed, the boys leapt off their ponies gallantly and waved.

"Sorry, but thank you for the ride," Merry said. "We hope you enjoyed it…our little show."

"Yes, well done, very well done, and if I might add," Pippin continued, "thank you for volunteering to participate like that," and they both ducked under the fence to raid the vegetables.
Merry and Pippin, you old dogs, I couldn't help chuckling, and attempted their stylish jump off my pony. Instead, I fell head-over-heels to the ground and leapt up, trying to run after the boys in my long skirt.

The farmer caught up in anger and tried grabbing me but I rolled under him and jumped the fence just in time to disappear into the cornstalks, never to again be seen.

Inside, Merry and Pippin were laughing, and I panted from fright.

"You are…the craziest…most plucky…hobbits…" I gasped.

"Right…now with that," Merry said. "Let's go have ourselves a party!"

"That was good, very good, Mandy, for your first time," Pippin said. "You didn't get caught."

"Almost," I gasped, scowling.

Grinning as we journeyed back to Bag End, Merry tossed a potato from hand to hand and we chased him mercilessly along the pathways till we could see the Party Tree and all beneath it.

"Ah, the long-expected party," Merry sighed with a smile. "Mr. Bilbo has finally made it to one hundred and eleven."

"We need party clothes," I reminded him with a sheepish grin.

If ever Bilbo had a finer party in Hobbiton, I did not know. Colorful lights and fireworks filled the skies and the sound of music swam over the hills. Down below us, it seemed, were enough hobbits to fill the Shire (which was of course, very accurate).

Pippin, Merry and I were disheveled and covered in leaves and dirt, so we quietly stowed away into Frodo's house to change. I myself put on a green lacy frock with a white pinafore and put my curly hair up in a green ribbon. Stepping out of my room, I admired Merry and Pippin's decorated vests, and held out my arms. "Come along, then," I said.

Pippin took one of my arms and Merry the other, and together the three of us pranced down to Bilbo's grand party.

"Where have you been?" Sam whispered. I looked around for Merry and Pippin but they were gone. The mischief-makers; it figured they had left to cause some sort of mayhem.

"Just…getting some…vegetables," I said shrugging.

"Well…let's eat, then," and Sam led me to where he and Frodo were sitting and drinking ale. As soon as we sat down, mothers and fathers from the West Farthing came over to say hello and give their grievances for my losses. I smiled and nodded politely, and as I turned back to my tea Sam blushed and muttered to himself furiously. I turned around to see a familiar young woman with golden hair and a blue dress eyeing him shyly as she danced.

"Go on!" Frodo grinned. "Ask Rosie for a dance!"

"Oh, Sam," I smiled, thinking of every opportunity Sam had missed because he wouldn't so much as look Rosie in the eye.

"I…think…I'll just have another ale…" Sam muttered. "Knowing Rosie," he added, "She may think little Mandy's my date…"

"Tell her she's my date," Frodo said, seizing Sam's shoulders and thrusting him in Rosie's direction, where Sam found himself in her arms and speechless as they began to dance. "Go, on then!"

Rosie waved to me and smiled as she wrapped her arms around Sam's broad shoulders. "Adamanta!" She called, nearly losing her pretty ribbons as Sam swept her hurriedly under some low branches of the party tree.

The spectacle was so humorous that Frodo and I both began to laugh, and I was suddenly aware of him eyeing me.

"Would you like a dance with me?" he asked. "We can join Sam, so he's not too uncomfortable."

I opened my mouth to agree when the sound of a roaring fire droned out all others.

A colossal dragon made of fire flew from nowhere and over our heads. Shrieks burst out everywhere until the dragon took a sharp turn upwards and exploded in cascade of color and light.

"Fireworks!" I cried excitedly. No matter what age, I still hadn't gotten over the excitement of seeing fireworks. They were unlike anything we had in the Shire.

"Gandalf's fireworks," Frodo winked. "You haven't met the old wizard yet. He's got more where that's from."

"They're wonderful!"

I got a glimpse of the famous wizard himself, chuckling as he picked up a burnt-looking Merry and Pippin by the scruffs of their necks. "Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, you masters of mischief!" He scolded. "I should have known…"

I stifled a laugh. Petty criminals, I couldn't help thinking as Gandalf thrust the lads to wash dishes.

"Alright," I replied, "Let's have that dance…" and allowed Frodo to help me to my feet. We were about to walk out to the dance ground when Bilbo climbed on top of a barrel and quieted us all for his birthday speech.

"Oh," Frodo said, sounding disappointed. "Another time, then…"

I nodded and sat beside him, looking around for Sam and Rosie, who somehow had made it all the way across the party.

"SPEECH!" The others called. "SPEECH, BILBO!" Frodo and I joined in.

"My dear Bagginses and Boffins, Tooks and Brandybucks!" Cheers sounded from each family as their name was called.

"Beloved Grubbs, Chubbs, Hornblowers, Bolgers, Bracegirdles, and Proudfoots!"

"Proudfeet!" Yelled Mr. Proudfoot, shaking one of his furry feet as we laughed.

Bilbo laughed and shook his head. "Today is my eleventy-first birthday!"

"Happy birthday," we called, laughing.

"Alas, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits. 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."

The crowd silenced, looking at one another and back at Bilbo in confusion. I myself could not follow him, but I nodded like it was something wise and important.

"I, uh, I h-have things to do," He added, fiddling with something in his pocket. "I've put this off for far too long… I regret to announce… that this is the end. I bid you all a very fond farewell."

Murmurs of confusion echoed around us all. I joined them.

"What does he mean, Frodo? Frodo?" I tried asking for answers, but he merely shook his head.

"I am leaving now," Bilbo continued slowly, groping for something in his pocket. "Good-bye."

And he vanished, just like that.

Immediate and utter chaos broke out then, as hobbits rushed to the barrel and all around, searching for some clue as to where and why this very unnatural occurrence had happened.

Frodo scrambled off, shouting his cousin's name, but soon made his way back to me, holding his hands on my shoulders. "I don't want you getting lost in this crowd," he said, and led me to a clearing some distance away from the panicky hobbits.

"Mandy? Mandy! MANDY!" Sam was calling my name with Rosie in tow, and Merry and Pippin, who had cleaned up considerably since we last saw them, were running from the other side.

"Bilbo just dis…"

"What happened?"

"What's going on?"

"Bilbo just…"

"Why'd he go?"

"Where is he now?"

"He's supposed to be taking care of me!"

"He disappeared just…"

"Frodo?"

"OY!" Frodo cried, raising his hands and stopping the questions. "Let's just get back to Bag End in one piece."

We took a long walk around the crowds. Though we were hobbits, and therefore talented at being unseen, it proved to be trickier than we realized – because of course everyone was going to look to Frodo for answers. We crept along in the shadows, beneath the trees. Merry and Pippin took turns holding a finger up to their lips, mockingly "shushing" each other, while I sniggered and Frodo snapped his fingers for them to knock it off. By the time we reached Frodo's home we were all tired, and I especially, but not too tired to notice a large gray figure sitting by Frodo's fire muttering to himself.

"Ow," Frodo said suddenly, lifting his foot, and picked up something from the floor. "Gandalf?" He asked quietly, and gave us a signal to go to bed.

"But…" Merry whined. "You can't boss us! We can stay if we want to!"

"Because we're mature adults too!" Pippin complained, and Merry gave him a sharp look. Pippin cringed.

"Go…to…bed!" Frodo begged of us, a look of anger spreading across his face.

Sam said good-night to Rosie, and Merry and Pippin stomped to their room, complaining about being treated like little hobbit-children, and I turned around once to see Gandalf and Frodo bending over whatever peculiar thing he held in his palm. Gandalf turned round suddenly and perhaps made a small motion with his hand, but I was too dazed and tired to recall exactly what, and my eyes began to droop. I was too exhausted even to say goodnight. I turned on my heel, the candles darkening, and stumbled into my bed.