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A Place for Gandalf  by Dreamflower

Hensday, 7 Rethe S.R. 1389

Bilbo stood in the passageway, looking over the room, where the workers were busily digging. He quickly dodged to one side, as one of them came out with another barrowload of earth. Then he stuck his head in.

“Master Halfred, how is it coming?”

“Very well, indeed, I’d say Mr. Baggins. We will have the room lowered by the end of the day, and tomorrow we will start leveling it for the new floor. You’re going to have some mighty high ceilings in here when this here room is done.”

Just then he heard an insistent rapping on his front door. “Oh bother! Who could that be?” he muttered, as he went to open it.

“Lobelia,” he said flatly. Bother the female, what did she want?”

“So, Cousin Bilbo, I see that the rumor is true,” she sneered as she stepped uninvited into the smial.

“And what rumor is that?” he said , even though he knew he didn’t want to hear her answer.

“Why, that you are making totally uncalled for changes to Bag End! That you are simply ruining this beautiful smial for no good reason!” She gave a start as the hobbit who had gone out to empty his barrow returned. Even though he did not pass that closely to her, she made a great show of brushing off her skirts.

“Bag End” said Bilbo repressively, “is my hole to do with as I wish, and it is no one else’s business what I do to it.”

“Bag End, is of course, yours. But you ought to keep in mind that someday it will belong to others, and you should keep the value of the property up for their sake. It isn’t wise to make changes that might lower the value of a property.”

Bilbo’s face grew red. “And of course, you have those others in mind!”

She smiled nastily. “It’s not like you have anyone else to leave it to!”

“Lobelia, I will pull this hole down over my head before I allow the Sackville-Baggins to have it. You have my word on that!”

“As I said Bilbo, you will find it is not as easy to disinherit your heirs as you seem to think.” She snapped her fingers in his face, and turned to march down the walk.

That does it, thought Bilbo. I’m going to see my lawyer after lunch, and whatever it takes, I will find a way to disinherit those pests,

_______________________________________________________

“…and so, Mr. Grubb, you can see I am quite dissatisfied with the one who is my obvious heir. Actually, I have been ever since I returned from my travels and found them behaving like a flock of vultures.”

“Well, Mr. Baggins,--”

“I know! I know! Entirely my own fault for not making my intentions clear ahead of time. Except I didn’t have one. An ‘ahead of time’ I mean. Went off without so much as a pocket-handkerchief; certainly no time to mess about with a will.”

Grubb smiled. He was quite used to the Baggins’ verbal eccentricities after all these years.

“I will give you my best advice, remember however, it is not so clear cut but that it cannot be disputed.”

“I understand that. Just get on with it,” said Bilbo impatiently.

“In order to disinherit one in the clear line of inheritance, you must have another heir. But it cannot be just anybody, especially as you are Head of the Family. It must be a male relative, whom you adopt before he comes of age. He must be close--at the very least descended of a common great-grandfather, and of the same last name. If there is one who fits this criteria, he may become the heir of all your properties. It is less clear whether he would inherit the headship of the family.* In the East Farthing and North Farthing, that would usually be accepted; however, in the South and West Farthings, the headship might still go to the closer relative, even if disinherited. This is a very unclear area.”

Bilbo felt a chill run down his spine. This description fit one person, and one person only--the very person he would wish to be his heir if it were possible. As though it were fate. And now it looked as though it might be. “If there were a dispute, then how would it be settled?”

“Since it involves the headship of a family, it would usually go to the Thain for settlement. However, because of your Tookish connections, it might be deferred to the Master of Buckland.”

“What if there were also a Brandybuck connection?”

“Ah. I see the way your mind is running. Most suitable, I must say. Well, in that event, it would probably end up with the Thain and the Master and the Mayor of the Shire in order to insure impartiality.”

And I can see Will Whitfoot going against the Thain and the Master, thought Bilbo. He chuckled. Otho and Lobelia were in for a very nasty surprise.

____________________________________________________

* From The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter #214 





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