Hello, hello, hello, sorry about not updating last week, I had a huge school project and stayed up till 1-2 am three nights in a row just to get it done in time. so yeah, kind of takes priority over writing for my own enjoyment. Anyway, back on track. Enjoy. I do not own The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings, just my imagination.
As the moon cast its silvery glow through the rounded window, Bilbo tossed and turned restlessly in her bed, her mind consumed by troubled thoughts and unsettling dreams. In her sleep, she found herself standing in a dark, shadowy cave, though not connected to her body, the air was thick with an ominous sense of foreboding.
Suddenly, a faint glimmer caught her eye, drawing her attention to a small, golden ring lying on the ground before her. The ring seemed to pulse with an otherworldly light, its surface etched with strange, twisting runes that seemed to shift and writhe like living things.
Against the screaming of her thoughts, Bilbo's body reached out to touch the ring, compelling her to claim it as her own. She lifted the ring with trembling fingers from the ground, feeling its weight settle heavily in her palm.
But as soon as she touched the ring, a voice whispered in her ear, soft and insidious, filled with a seductive allure. "Bilbo," it murmured, its tone honeyed and persuasive. "You are destined for greatness. With this ring, you could wield unimaginable power, shape the world to your will, and command the respect and fear of all who dare to defy you." Bilbo's soul screamed out in terror. It knew that this voice was no friend, it was like a spider, weaving her into a trap of death and she was helpless against it.
Bilbo's eyes widened in horror as she felt it sought to ensnare her soul in its dark embrace.
With a cry of fear and desperation, Bilbo hurled the ring away from her, watching as it landed in the lava, shaking the mountain in a fury like no other as it died, taking her with it, leaving her suddenly frail and ruined body to die on a scorching and barren cliff.
Gasping for breath, Bilbo jolted awake, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to shake off the lingering tendrils of the nightmare. Bilbo groaned, That dream again, as long as she could remember she had dreams of a golden ring, running in a world of grey, her soul corrupting, fiery pain, dark caves, and darker promises. The dreams were so vivid that she could swear that she lived them. Sometimes she was in her own body innocently but obsessively carrying that awful ring, losing her mind to it. Sometimes she was in a young boy's body who suffered under the burden the ring forced on him, giving up the pieces of his soul, bit by bit, to avoid losing his mind.
Bilbo let out an exhausted sigh as she sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed her burning eyes.
Deciding that she would get no more sleep that night, Bilbo crawled out of bed to light a few candles as she dressed for the day, trousers, she thought to herself as she reminded herself that she would go out to check on the hives. It was still dark out but Bilbo could see where the edges of the night sky softened with the approaching light. Deciding that she was not hungry but could still use something to ease her queasy stomach, Bilbo set about making some mint tea. Mindlessly stoking the fire and putting the kettle on. Once the kettle screamed out its success, Bilbo decided that the fresh air would do her good. Stepping out into the cool night air Bilbo settled herself onto her bench and gazed up at the stars.
In a practiced rhythm, that Bilbo is still not sure where she learned, she goes about organizing her thoughts and feelings. Imagining her emotions like strings, Bilbo detaches them, one by one, from the fabric of her dreams, and gently and carefully weaves them into the fray of her logic and rationality, giving them a different purpose and stain.
She wasn't sure how long she had sat there gazing up at the stars but when she broke herself out from her trance-like state the sun had just shyly peaked out from behind the hills to greet the day in blushing tones.
Bilbo Baggins at age 62 sat upon her bench enjoying the tranquil and serene morning with a warm cup of mint tea in her hands breathing in the wonderfully soothing aroma. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the soft scent of dew-kissed grass and wildflowers. A gentle breeze rustles through the trees, causing the leaves to whisper softly in the early morning light.
She always loved mornings like this, with the Shire bathed in a warm golden glow as the sun rose slowly above the horizon, casting long shadows across the rolling hills and verdant fields. The sky above is a canvas of pastel hues, with delicate shades of pink, orange, and lavender blending together in a breathtaking display of natural beauty.
She sat and listened to the birds greet the morning with their joyful songs, their melodies filling the air with a sense of peace and tranquility. The distant sound of a rooster crowing echoed through the Shire, heralding the start of a new day and Bilbo sat and enjoyed it.
As the morning unfolds, the Shire comes alive with activity, yet there is an undeniable sense of calm and stillness that pervades the air. It is a moment of quiet contemplation and reflection, a time to pause and appreciate the simple beauty of nature in all its glory.
"Bilbo Fay Baggins!" the shrill voice shatters the tranquility, very nearly sending poor Bilbo tumbling down on her rear and spilling some of her precious tea on her hands. From up the road, like some avenging angel of death, Lobelia Bracegirdle-Baggins (almost Sackville-Baggins) came marching up the path, head held high. Despite having the women's loyalty and friendship, which was a surprising turn of events given everything. Bilbo still had the urge to duck and cover whenever the woman came calling, especially when she used Bilbo's full name like that, It meant that she was bound and determined to get her way, and her way usually forced Bilbo into the public spotlight, mentality Bilbo cringed.
"Lobelia, What a pleasant surprise, especially on this fine morning. How do you do?" Bilbo greeted, nodding her head in acknowledgment. She hoped that the pleasantry would distract the woman long enough that she could come up with some sort of excuse to get out of there.
"Don't you play niceties with me, Fay, you know damn well what I'm doing here, so don't you play coy. You should know better by now! You have a reputation to maintain and it's hard enough for me to keep it up for you without you doing something foolish like this!" Lobelia fumed. Bilbo let out a long drawn-out sigh, pinched her nose, and glanced up at the woman in front of her.
"Alright fine, let's talk, but let's do it inside if you're so insistent on pursuing the issue," Bilbo said before standing up and walking up to her spring green round door without so much as looking back to see if Lobelia was following her.
"I'm not sorry for breaking his nose" Bilbo replied stubbornly as soon as both women crossed the threshold and the door was closed. "Tea?" she asked suddenly before heading into the kitchen, relighting the embers for another batch and pulling out a cup for Lobelia as though indifferent to the situation.
"You shouldn't have lashed out in the first place," Lobelia angrily replied waving her arms around to emphasize her point, as she went over to the cupboard to pull out the sugar for their tea.
"He more than deserved it," Bilbo sang out, as she pulled out Lobelia's favorite chamomile tea and set it on the counter, waiting for the water to boil. Lobelia scoffed.
"Everyone knows Oleo Hornblower is a greasy tub of fat but he's all talk and no trousers, you shouldn't have lost your temper and resorted to violence like that. You need to apologize to that man." Lobelia scolded. The kettle whistles its competition once more and Bilbo goes about pouring the boiling water into their prepared cups.
"Why? Draco is running the family business now, I have no reputation to worry about upkeeping anymore." Bilbo said waving her hand dismissively. Lobelia gritted her teeth.
"You are still head of the Baggins name, just because you gave the business to Drogo to establish him as your heir, doesn't change your status." She enunciated the words as if Bilbo was stupid. Bilbo rolled her eyes.
"You will make a formal apology to that man, or so help me Bilbo, I will hound you every single hour until you do." Lobelia declared, glaring at Bilbo in a challenge.
"I will not," Bilbo said pleasantly.
"And, Why, Might I ask, Not." Lobelia burst.
"Because I was simply reminding him of his place," Bilbo said voice darkening a bit. At this news, Lobelia set the cup that was steadily approaching her lips abruptly down.
"What happened?" she demanded Bilbo with a scarily intense look, Bilbo was almost scared to answer her for Oleo's sake, almost.
"Last evening I went to the Green Dragon to deliver some of my Honey Ale and Oleo Hornblower and his slimy friends were there drunk off their senses, At first I didn't think anything of them but then he started making some comments about me, saying how it was such a shame that I never married, I ignored him of course, but it soon became more vulgar. Things like how a woman of my stature would be a fine prize to win and how comely I still am and their sick fantasies on how I could please them." Bilbo explained she took a drink of tea in hopes of soothing her rage somewhat.
"That isn't anything new Bilbo, especially at the Green Dragon" Lobelia's face was pinched at the news but still steadfast in her judgement.
"That's the least of it," Bilbo promised. "It was then they started talking about the kids, how distasteful it was that I earned my right as Master of Bag End to be able to keep my home, how annoying it was that I was "forced" to adopt the kids in a "bargain" for Bag End. That if the kids weren't attached they would have courted me a long time ago." Bilbo stopped and had to take a deep breath before continuing. "That's when Oleo noticed me," Bilbo said dangerously. "He stumbled over, reeking of ale and arrogance, and dared to reach out and try to touch me. Telling me that even though I was burdened with "insufferable brats" I could still be a good lay. I gave him full warning of what would happen if he tried to put his hands on me, but he didn't heed my warning. He grabbed my arm, leering at me with those disgusting eyes, and tried to pull me closer. So I broke his sorry nose and I bloody well enjoyed it."
Lobelia's expression darkened with anger as she listened to Bilbo's account. "That despicable swine," she screeched, clenching her fists and shooting up from her chair. The next forty minutes consisted of Lobelia's angry screeches as she paced back and forth with Bilbo cooling her ire by fondly remembering the crunch of Oleo's nose under her fist and sipping her mint tea.
"I won't stand for it," Lobelia vowed, her voice fierce. "I refuse to let anyone treat my family with such disrespect. I'll make sure that Oleo Hornblower and anyone else who dares to behave like him face the consequences of their actions." she declared before stomping back out the door to set whatever diabolical plan she had for Oleo in motion.
She hesitated before she left and turned back around. "You know..." But Bilbo interrupted her before she could even get the words out.
"I've met them all Belia, A husband might fix the reputation, or rather give the freedom to toss reputation to the wind, but I can safely say, I will never marry anyone from the shire," Bilbo said.
Lobelia looked at Bilbo for a long while, reluctantly nodded her head, and walked out the door.
Bilbo let out a small amused smile at Lobelia's retreating form. Who would have thought that Lobelia and Bilbo would have ended up as friends? Sisters if Bilbo was being honest. Certainly not her if you asked Bilbo 30 years ago. As Bilbo got up to wash out her cup and start her first breakfast she let her mind wander back to her dream. They come more frequently now, she hasn't had a peaceful night's sleep for several months now. She wondered if it was a sign that something was coming.
It was the knocking on the door that snapped Bilbo out of her memories, and out of the mindless washing of her dishes. Now who could that be? It couldn't be Lobelia, she would just come right in. Perhaps it was Oleo Hornblower trying to apologize before he ended up on the wrong side of Lobelia, or perhaps because he ended up on the wrong side of Lobelia.
"I'm coming," Bilbo called when the knocking came again. But when she answered the door it was no Hobbit that stood there, It was a dwarf.
"I'm here to take you away on an adventure Master Baggins," he said cheerily, giving her a brilliant smile and a low bow.
"What?!"