Written for Marigold’s Challenge 36. The challenge this time was to write about any third anniversary, and my elements were to include embroidered braces (suspenders), ginger wine and thunder.

Betas: Marigold and Llinos

The Birthday - Hobbiton

22 Halimath, 1424 SR
Bag End

They had never considered not celebrating the Birthday, nor had they discussed what to do when the Birthday next came around. There was no need for words. The year after Frodo’s departure it had only been natural for the remaining Travellers to gather at Bag End and honor their cousin and friend who had gone over the Sea. Merry and Pippin had arrived unannounced from Crickhollow to find preparations for the Day already in order. That first Birthday had been hardest for all of them but they were grateful for the opportunity to be together and to share all their fondest memories of their dearest of friends.

The wounds were less hurtful the next year and did not sting so badly when the tears eventually came. Rose and Estella had taken the children into town, leaving the lads to their wine and reminiscing, and by the time they returned the air in Bag End was considerably lighter. The shared release of the Travellers’ grief had lifted a great burden from all of their shoulders, and the rest of the day and night had passed pleasantly enough.

The third year after the sailing of the Ring-bearers, Sam brought his friends together in the early weeks of summer and announced that this time they would do things properly. So plans were made and preparations begun. As the Day grew closer, invitations were sent, the meals were decided and the food was ordered, the Party Field was readied and the gifts were chosen from the mathom room in Bag End. Overall, things looked to be more festive and jubilant and much more like a birthday party than in years past.

The week of the Birthday, Sam and Rose readied their home to receive their guests. The first to arrive at the beginning of the week were Merry and Estella and their two young lads, one-year old Peridoc and their newborn Théodoc. With them came Fredegar and his wife Mentha, formerly of the Brandybucks, and Pippin. The next day brought Folco, his wife Delia and their four-year old son Freddy. On the eve of the party, Master Saradoc and Mistress Esmeralda arrived and they were shown to the main guest room overlooking the gardens. With their arrival, all the spare rooms in Bag End were filled and the smial was bustling with hobbits, just as in the old days when Mr. Bilbo still lived under the Hill and had visitors constantly coming and going.

On the morning of the Day, everyone woke early and began the final preparations. Saradoc and Esmeralda watched over the children while the young wives made a simple but large first breakfast that would keep the adults full and satisfied until luncheon, and the lads disappeared into the study for their customary reminiscing. After first breakfast, the lasses dressed their children for the outdoors while Sam, with the help of his friends, rummaged for the final presents in the mathom room.

The mathom room was an oddity to Bag End. Single-family dwellings did not traditionally have a room to spare solely for the purpose of storing unused items, for most families had very few things for which they did not have a use. When Bag End was built, it was with the intention of one day housing a large family when Bilbo married and had children. However, that day never came. Bilbo lived many long years alone under the Hill and over those years he had accumulated quite a store of sentimental treasures from too many birthdays and celebrations to count. Where most hobbits would eventually pass the gifts and mathoms onto someone else after a few years, Bilbo almost always gave away new presents on his birthday, and so the number of mathoms he received from others grew and grew until they were taking over nearly every room in the smial. Eventually, the mathoms had been moved to this room and there they had stayed, for Frodo had not been much better about circulating his mathoms as Bilbo had been. Now the room was crowded with many spare pieces of furniture and boxes of old clothes, memorabilia and other oddments and whatnots, common and rare alike.

All the gifts for the party guests came from this room, with the more valuable and sentimental items going to Frodo’s relations and the everyday common items going to Sam and Rose’s families. Sam was reluctant to have his friends’ help in this task, for it was not really proper for them know that the gifts Sam would be handing out at the party were mathoms, but as all the items in this room at one point or another belonged to Frodo’s family and friends, it was only practical that Frodo’s cousins now help to sort through them. They would be far better at guessing who would be most grateful and appreciative of which items.

The only presents that his friends were not helping to find were their own. That would have been a breach of propriety that Sam simply could not fathom. Indeed, none of them were able to imagine such a thing and so they did not even mention it or presume to look for items that they might like for themselves. For his part, Sam had been most conscientious about acquiring their gifts weeks ago, and he now had them hid in the study amongst the other presents.

After three long days of digging and rummaging, they were now down to the children’s gifts. Pippin, upon looking into a box stuffed with old toys, came across the kaleidoscope he had once wanted but never received. He held it up to his eye and twirled it about, watching the various shapes and colors dance.

“I can’t believe I forgot about this,” he said with surprise. “I used to come in here just to look for this. You can give this to Peri, Sam. He’s a bit young for it, but he’ll love it when he gets older.”

In the same box, Folco found a pair of old braces that he had lost many years before. He held them up in triumph for all to see. “These were my favorite braces,” he announced, hugging them to himself. They were made from green thread and had bay-colored ponies running up and down each strap, at the end of which were round wooden buttons with the initials F.B. “Remember Freddy?”

Fredegar nodded. The braces had actually once been his but he had given them to Folco when he outgrew them. He remembered how Folco had cried all night when he realized he had lost them. “They won’t fit you anymore I’m afraid, but if you let Delia keep them, they’ll fit Young Freddy in a few more years.”

“No, they’ll fit him now,” Sam said, taking the braces to wrap as Young Freddy’s present. “All you have to do is fold them and stitch them in the back. As he grows, you can let out the stitching.”

The box proved to have a wealth of likely gifts inside it. Sam found a rag doll and some hair clips for Elanor and a toy wheelbarrow and spade made of soft wood that little Frodo could amuse himself with as he teethed. Merry found a rattle and a stuffed cow for Théodoc. Folco found a stuffed pig that would also go to Young Freddy. Not wanting Peri to be the only child with one gift, Pippin found the bairn a bag of wood stacking blocks with runes painted on the sides. The gifts chosen, they helped Sam to tag them and put them in the study with the rest of the gifts, then went outside where they found the others already enjoying the sunshine and fresh air.

Saradoc and Esmeralda were sitting on the porch with their grandsons. Théodoc was sleeping soundly in his grandmother’s arms; at only three weeks old he still slept most of the day. Sara was bouncing Peri on his knee, much to the bairn’s delight. Peri giggled delightfully every time his grandfather bounced him, and when Peri’s giggles lessened to breathless gasps Saradoc would bounce him again.

Sitting nearby on a blanket on the lawn were Rose and Delia. Frodo was sitting with them and playing with something shiny and round. Merry recognized it as Saradoc’s pocket watch and he wasn’t at all surprised to discover that the little lad had charmed it from his father. Both Esme and Sara, upon their arrival last night, had become instantly endeared to Elanor and Frodo, and Sara seemed to consider Frodo especially as part of the family. A joyous smile lit the grey-haired Master’s wrinkled face every time he looked at the bairn and he seemed to grow twenty years younger whenever he held Frodo in his arms.

Estella and Mentha were standing nearby with Elanor and Young Freddy, who were feeding seeds to the birds that lived in the trees on the Hill. Folco and his family visited often enough that Elanor and Freddy were good friends and this was one of their favorite pastimes. Elanor even knew some birdcalls, having learned them from her father, and she imitated them now, calling the birds out of the trees more readily than the seeds alone would do. Freddy attempted to copy her but he could not whistle and could only blow loudly through his lips.

Sam, Fredegar and Folco joined their wives while Merry and Pippin lingered on the porch. “I hope Peri’s been burped,” Merry said as his father bounced the bairn again. Peri’s peals of laughter filled the air with merriment.

“We may be old, dear, but we remember the basics,” Esme assured him.

“Aren’t you tired of holding Théo, Mother?” Merry asked.

“No, he’s fine where he is,” Esme said. “How is he sleeping at nights?”

“Usually he sleeps until three or so and then he wants to be fed,” Merry said. “So long as Peri doesn’t start crying for something, Théo is rather quiet most of the time. Of course, Peri wouldn’t cry so much if somebody didn’t spoil him.”

“Peri is partly named for me,” Pippin said. “It’s my duty to spoil him.”

“Since when did you start doing your duties so well?” Merry asked but he was grinning when he said it.

“Don’t you listen to him son,” Sara said to Pippin. “We have to take care of our namesakes.” As he said this, he bounced Peri again, the bairn squealing with laughter and smiling to beat the sun.

On the lawn, Sam sat behind his wife and folded his arms about her waist. Rose leaned back into him and folded her hands on top of his. Folco sat next to Delia; they clasped hands and she rested her head on his shoulder. Little Frodo sat looking up at them with big hazel eyes, his mouth busily working at tasting every inch of the pocket watch and its chain.

“Should he have that?” Sam said worriedly. “He could break it.”

“Master Saradoc assured me that his watch has survived many assaults from bairns over the years,” Rose said. “He gave it to him at any rate.”

“Still, he could muck up the workings,” Sam said but when he reached out to take the timepiece from his son, Frodo held it away and frowned.

“My shy,” Frodo said, meaning ‘my shiny’.

“Now Frodo, no talking back,” Sam said firmly. “You can play with it, but just you keep it out of your mouth.”

Frodo blinked up at him, as though he was trying to determine if his father was being serious or not. He looked at his mother next and then Folco and Delia, and finally back at his father. Sam raised an eyebrow and shook his head. Frodo blinked again then tentatively brought the pocket watch back toward his mouth.

“No Frodo,” Sam repeated, just as sternly.

Frodo paused, looked down at the pocket watch and back at his father. He inched the timepiece closer to his mouth.

“No.”

“Here lad,” Rose said and reached into her pocket for a small bag of rusks that she kept there. She handed two to Frodo and he had to drop the pocket watch to take the food. When he did, Rose easily took the pocket watch from him. She held it out in front of her as it dripped with saliva. “We should clean this.”

Sam took a handkerchief from his pocket and Rose handed him the abused timepiece. Little Frodo’s eyes followed his father’s every move as he wiped it clean and checked it to make sure it still worked.

Delia chuckled. “He’s a clever one,” she stated, “and he’s going to look just like his papa, you can tell already.”

“Unfortunate, isn’t it?” Fredegar joked and everyone laughed heartily.

“Hey now, that’s our friend you’re speaking of, Freddy,” Merry defended.

“We can only hope there’s another Rosie out there somewhere for little Frodo so he doesn’t have to grow up all alone,” Pippin said with a wink.

Folco looked back and forth between his friends, not understanding the joke. “I think Frodo looks nice,” he stated to Fredegar.

“That depends on what you mean by nice,” Elanor said in her grown-up manner. “He can be devious sometimes.”

“When do I get a brother, Daddy?” Young Freddy asked.

“When your mother makes one,” Folco answered.

“How does she do that?” Freddy asked.

“I’m not sure, but when she was making you she said she itched a lot, and she was always hungry and ate the strangest things,” Folco said.

“Maybe that’s why you’re so strange,” Elanor said to Freddy and laughed cheerily.

“My!” Frodo cried suddenly, recalling the adults’ attention to him. He was finished with his rusks and wanted his pocket watch back to chew on.

“He should have his teething ring,” Rose said and started to rise.

“You stay there, dear, you’re far too comfortable to be getting up. I’ll get it for you,” Estella offered and went into the smial to retrieve the stuffed wool ring from the bairn’s cradle in Sam and Rose’s room. She returned quickly enough and, after giving the toy to Rose, she and Merry disappeared for a time to stroll about the garden.

Mentha slipped an arm around Fredegar’s waist and watched the children with him. Elanor was now trying to teach Freddy to whistle and getting nowhere fast. Peri was playing with the buttons on Saradoc’s waistcoat as Théodoc continued to sleep soundly. Frodo was scowling at his father for the pocket watch, not having discovered yet that pouting would work far more quickly and efficiently.

Mentha sighed and said quietly, “I can’t wait till we have our own.”

“Time willing, we’ll have our own soon,” Fredegar said and wondered for the hundredth time what a child of his lovely wife would look like. Probably not as beautiful as Elanor, but he imagined any daughter of Mentha’s would come a close second to the fair maid child.

When the children became hungry, Mentha, Delia and Esme went inside to make second breakfast and begin preparing elevenses. Rose and Estella retreated to the parlor to feed the bairns and talk about the many trials and joys of motherhood. Meanwhile, the lads went down to the Party Field, where the Gaffer and the Cottons were already beginning to put up the food tents and the many lanterns. While the mallorn tree was pretty to look upon, it was already far too tall to hang lanterns from as they had done with the previous party tree and they had finally made stands for the lanterns to hang from, which were stored in the barn on the far edge of the field.

Marigold sat against the Party Tree keeping watch on her firstborn Young Tommy, her belly swollen with her second soon to come. She smiled up at her brother and his friends as they entered the field. They greeted her hello before going on to help with the set up. Only Pippin and Sam stopped for a quick word.

“Good day, Marigold,” Pippin said. “You look about ready to burst.”

“I feel that ready to burst sir,” she replied with a laugh. “Miss Willow said it should just be a few more days.”

“If you have it today, that’d be a great gift to Frodo,” Pippin pointed out.

“I’ll see what I can do about that Mr. Pippin,” Goldie promised.

Sam lightly cuffed Pippin on the shoulder and pushed him towards the tents. “Get on with you and leave my sister in peace,” he laughed. Pippin bowed gallantly and trotted off to join the others. Sam knelt down next to his sister and hugged her gently, then ruffled Young Tommy’s hair. “You’re here earlier than I expected you to be, Goldie.”

“Tom and the lads wanted to get started with the tents afore the cooks arrive,” Goldie said.

“You be sure to let us know if you need anything,” Sam said.

“Calla’s here,” Goldie said, indicating Jolly’s wife at the other end of the field, where her sister-in-law was supervising the arrangement of the tents and the platform where the band would perform. “Mother Lily will be here soon also. I’ll be well looked after, big brother, don’t you be a fretting. Who else is coming?”

“Besides us as are already here, there’s the Thain and his Lady, and all of Mr. Pippin’s sisters and their families. A few of the Bagginses are coming also. Daisy said she’d come too.”

“That’s an awful lot of folk,” Marigold voiced with concern.

“About fifty or so,” Sam shrugged. “No more’n your average party, so don’t you be fretting.”

“This ain’t exactly your average party. The guests of honor ain’t even here, for starters.”

“It’s still a party.”

“You know, folk in town are saying as the madness of the Bagginses must’ve come from Bag End, for now you’re starting to crack, throwing parties for them as are declared dead,” Goldie said, frowning disapprovingly at the thought of the people who were so bold as to insult her brother. “I’ve been telling them it’s more a pre-harvest party and that seems to be quelling most of the talk, though there are still folks as say it ain’t proper.”

“Let them say what they want,” Sam said. “Harvest party, birthday party – either way, we’re having it and it’s going to be fine.”

Indeed, it was a grand party. Everyone arrived before the tea hour and they enjoyed their gifts immensely. Those of Frodo’s family were deeply touched by their gifts, as had been hoped. While this was not exactly what the heads of the families had thought Sam would use the mathoms for when they had declined having them dispersed to the families outright, they were glad for the compromise that Sam had come up with. Of course, none of them were so rude as to acknowledge the gifts as mathoms, but they found other ways of letting Sam know how much the gifts meant to them, saying such things as ‘why, I haven’t had such a lovely treasure since I was a tween,’ or ‘I’ve not been given such a fine weskit since my younger days.’

Working hobbits and gentlehobbits mixed easily together just as in the old days of Mr. Bilbo. Paladin and Saradoc were greatly impressed at Sam’s comfort with the two classes and how quickly he was able to get his guests talking about their shared interests and talents and forget about their differences. The children needed no such prodding and were happily running about the field playing their games, while the bairns were passed from one set of arms to another.

Daisy showed off her youngest’s ability to walk. Tulip grasped onto her mother’s fingers with iron-tight fists and stepped forward on uncertain feet and wobbly legs, an immense look of concentration on her little face. Soon, the fathers were doing the same, Merry leading Peri, Tom leading Young Tommy and Sam leading Frodo. Harman took over for Daisy and the fathers were ‘racing’ their children for an impromptu contest and urging them towards the arms of their waiting mothers. Peri and Frodo could walk on their own but they were clumsy still and often fell, or they became distracted with the dandelions growing in the field.

“That doesn’t seem right somehow,” Everard said to his wife Pervinca as they watched the slow-paced race.

Vinca laughed. “You mean to say that if we had a bairn of our own, you wouldn’t be out there yourself?”

“Oh I’d be out there. I couldn’t let Merry or Pippin think that their sons could best ours,” Everard said.

“And what makes you think we’ll have a son first?” Vinca asked. “Maybe we’ll have a daughter.”

“She could best their sons too.”

“Oh look!” exclaimed Calla suddenly and she pointed at Young Tommy, who had released his father’s hands and was taking his final steps toward his mother on his own. A huge smile split the bairn’s face in two. Everyone clapped as the bairns one by one reached their mothers and fell forward into hugs and kisses.

Everard left his wife’s side and joined Merry and Pippin who were now standing with Estella and Peri. Everard looked back across the field at Vinca, who was now in deep conversation with Calla and Angelica Baggins. He sighed with relief. “Not that I don’t want my own children some day,” he started, “but I’m not quite ready for it. I thought we’d wait a while yet but the longer Per’s here around these wee ones the more she gets that gleam in her eyes.”

“Vinca and gleaming eyes are never a good combination,” Pippin agreed lightly. “I’d pack up all your valuables and keep them in a safe and secret location, the swifter to make your narrow escape.”

Merry and Everard laughed. A few years ago, that comment would have been full of ire and Vinca’s response would have been equally vile. Now the comment was flippant and teasing, and Vinca, with her sharp ears and unusually canny ability of knowing when someone was talking about her, only smiled over at them before going back to her conversation.

Meanwhile, the older children were having their own fun. Daisy’s firstborn, Bell, and Pearl’s firstborn, Liliana, were only a year apart in age and they had become quick friends upon meeting earlier that day. When they tired of playing with their presents, Bell, the oldest at thirteen, motioned for Liliana to join her in the barn. They crept past the stalls, pausing only briefly to whisper hello to Bill and Strider. The ponies whinnied softly and swished their tales. The lasses continued to the side wall, where a broad saw swung loosely from a hooked nail. Bell found a currycomb and winked.

“Listen to what this sounds like,” she said and banged the comb against the saw, making a great noise almost like thunder.

Liliana clamped her hands over her ears and giggled helplessly. “That’s a neat trick!” she said. “Can I try?”

“Sure, just be sure to stand back and hit it from the side, not direct like,” Bell instructed. She handed the comb to her friend and Liliana banged on the saw, causing a great racket. Indeed, she made such a racket that they didn’t hear the shouting until the final roll of ‘thunder’ ended. Then they could hear Harman calling for his daughter outside, his voice getting closer to the barn door.

“Bell! You stop that this instant!”

“Run!” Bell whispered. Liliana dropped the comb and the lasses dashed out of the side door just as Harman entered the front.

“Having fun?” said Nibs, trying hard to be stern despite his desire to laugh. The lasses triumphant shouts of escape died instantly on their lips. He shook his head at them. “Bell, you’ve been told not to do that. It scares the younger children and someone could get hurt.”

“I just wanted to show Miss Liliana,” Bell said, pouting hopefully.

“Try that one on your father,” Nibs said, pointing with his chin just behind them. The lasses turned and looked up at a disapproving Harman, his arms crossed in front of him.

“Someone is dangerously close to not having cake tonight,” Harman said, looking between the two lasses.

“We’ll be good,” they said instantly and apologetically.

“Then get over to your mothers and stay with them until dinner. You’re on restriction, the both of you.”

“Yes Dad,” Bell said and she and Liliana went to their mothers, who were waiting for them with lectures about ladylike behavior at the ready.

After dinner the musicians brought out and tuned their instruments and everyone took the field to dance. Marigold returned to her perch under the mallorn to watch over the growing line of sleeping bairns and faunts. Despite Tom’s and Sam’s worries and Pippin’s hopes, Goldie showed no signs of giving birth before the end of the night but she was still tired and needed her rest. Gaffer joined her and kept her company, holding his youngest grandson in his arms as Frodo yawned and stretched in his sleep.

After the dancing came the cake, which everyone was able to enjoy. More dancing followed and the party was still in full-swing by the time the Conspirators made their way up the Hill to the top of Bag End. Pippin stole a bottle of ginger wine from the drinks table and they passed it around as they sat against the base of the oak and looked up at the stars.

“Too bad we don’t have any fireworks,” Pippin said, voicing the same thought as everyone else. Gandalf’s fireworks were just one more thing they would never again be able to see and enjoy, but those were the least of the things they missed tonight. Pippin took a sip from the bottle and handed it to Fredegar. “You threw a fine party tonight Sam. Frodo would be proud.”

“Thank you Mr. Pippin,” Sam said.

Pippin sighed. “When are you going to drop the ‘Mr.’ part of it, Sam?”

“When it’s proper to do so, sir,” Sam said, feeling uneasy as he always did when this topic came up. It seemed to him like it came up at least once every visit and it was getting harder to argue the point.

“What do we have to do to make it proper then?” Merry asked. A teasing grin was on his face but his eyes were serious. He accepted the bottle from Fredegar and took a swig.

“Why don’t you go to your fathers and have them declare it proper for Sam to address you familiarly?” Fredegar suggested. “Sam wouldn’t dare deny the Master and the Thain.”

“Why stop there? We’ll have the Mayor declare it so also,” Merry said and handed the bottle to Sam. “They’ll sign it in red ink on an official document. The three of us will be witnesses. I’m sure Folco and Everard will sign it also. We only need two more witnesses.”

“Ponto, since he’s the head of the Bagginses,” Fredegar suggested. “He could stand in Frodo’s place.”

“And the Gaffer,” Pippin said with a wink and the others laughed and nodded knowingly.

“You’ll be needing two documents then,” Sam said, laughing also. “One saying as it’s all right for me not to call you ‘Mr.’ and another saying as it’s all right for the Gaffer to sign the other.”

“Actually, I don’t think we’ll need either,” Merry said now. “You’re forgetting the Rules of Address, Sam. It was proper for you to call us ‘Mr.’ when you were Frodo’s gardener, but you’re the Master of Bag End now. Not only that, but you’re our friend, and according to Rule Two, ‘peers may address each other however they so choose.’”

“In other words, it is proper for you to not call us ‘Mr.’,” Pippin finished triumphantly.

Sam hummed noncommittally at this. He couldn’t disagree with this argument, for by all accounts Merry was correct. Still, Sam couldn’t put aside a lifetime of habits in just one night, not without giving it considerable thought. So instead he sighed deeply and rested his chin on his hand as Pippin took the bottle from him. “I wonder what Mr. Frodo’s doing just about now.”

“Probably sitting by a fire with Bilbo, listening to elves sing,” Merry guessed, allowing for the change in subject. He knew it was Sam’s way of saying that he had grown weary of the other topic. Besides, they could always come back to it again later.

“Do you think they still toast each other’s health?” Pippin asked.

“I’m sure they probably do, being sticklers for tradition as they both are,” Merry said.

“Never did stray from their roots much did they,” said Fredegar with a sage nod. He took the bottle back from Pippin, and the wine made its round again. “Always the proper and predictable Bagginses, those two were.”

“Never did anything adventurous or unexpected,” Pippin agreed. “Well, except for that one incident with the dragon.”

“And that one instance when Bilbo disappeared in the middle of hosting his very own eleventy-first birthday party,” Fredegar said.

“And that other incident with the Ring of Power,” Merry added.

“And then there was that time they sailed over the Sea,” Sam finished. “Other than that, they were quite plain really, and very nearly the two smartest hobbits in the Shire, not counting current company of course.”

“Do you think Strider and the others got their gifts on time?” Pippin asked.

“I hope so,” said Merry. “It would be nice if we were all toasting Frodo and Bilbo at the same time, even spread across Middle-earth as we are.”

They watched the stars and listened to the music from the band on the field below. When the stars neared the ten o’clock hour, Merry brought out the wooden cups he had stowed away in his jacket and they filled them with the last of the wine, each getting an equal measure. They raised their cups and clicked them together.

“To Frodo and Bilbo, the dearest cousins one could ask for,” Merry said.

“And the kindest souls that ever were,” Sam added.

“To Frodo and Bilbo, whose courage and deviousness were insurmountable,” Pippin said.

“May they live happily and peacefully to the end of their days,” Fredegar finished and they drank to their friends’ health.

The end.
 

 GF 12/31/06