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When Winter Fell  by Lindelea


Chapter 7. Topics of Interest

Bilbo hovered outside the Thain's study, listening to the rise and fall of the talk between the Old Took and his distinguished guest, though he'd hardly looked distinguished to the young Baggins when he'd emerged from the Spotted Dog. He'd been bent nearly in half to go through the doorway, and as he'd straightened, he'd risen higher, and higher... towering above the hobbits in the marketplace.

Bilbo and Siggy had frankly stared, mouths open in astonishment. Bilbo wasn't quite sure what was most amazing: the long white beard, tucked neatly into the old man's belt, or the shaggy eyebrows that stuck out beyond the brim of his hat.

'Ah, some young Tooks!' the old man had said. 'Grandsons of the Old Took, are you? Perhaps you'd be so kind as to escort me to the Great Smials.' He had seen them hiding themselves during Isengar's outburst, and wondered for the first time, if he'd made a mistake to bring the hobbit home again, after...

'Sigismond son of Hildibrand, at your service,' Siggy said smartly, with a jaunty bow. He cocked a thumb at Bilbo, adding, 'And he's not a Took, but a Baggins!'

'Bilbo son of Bungo, at your service,' Bilbo said hastily, though his bow was a shade more respectful than his cousin's had been.

The old man bowed in return. 'Gandalf the Grey at yours, and at your family's,' he rumbled, and the eyes of both young hobbits nearly popped out of their heads. A wizard! A real wizard was before them! They'd heard of Gandalf, of course. He'd visited each Thain in turn, as far back as the history of the Shire went, and had even been friends with some of them, as he was with Gerontius. There were tales of marvellous fireworks still told in the great room whenever the Old Took's birthday came around, though Gandalf's last visit ten years ago had not included fireworks, or any sort of celebration whatsoever. He'd brought Uncle Isengar home to die in the bosom of his family, and left again straightway. But Uncle Isen hadn't died... not completely...

'Did you bring your fireworks?' Siggy blurted, and Bilbo bit his tongue in consternation at his cousin's rudeness.

But the wizard only laughed. 'I don't seem to have any with me at the moment,' he said, patting his robes. At the young hobbits' crestfallen expression he laughed again. 'But of course, your grandfather's birthday is still a few days away, and anything could happen between now and then.'

'Indeed!' Siggy said, brightening, and dancing a few steps, he thrust out his hand in the direction of the Great Smials. 'Shall we?'

And so they went, the two young hobbits chattering away and the old man listening, for the most part, and chuckling. And when they reached the Great Smials, they stopped, and the old man regarded the face of the great hill thoughtfully, perhaps comparing it in his mind to an earlier memory. Siggy said rather breathlessly, 'I'll tell Grandfather that you're here!' and ran in at one of the lesser doors, leaving Bilbo to entertain the old fellow.

A cautious crowd began to gather, staying well back, until Gandalf recognised several of the older ones and called greetings. These came forward rather shyly, to bow and offer their services. It was all politeness, of course, for what service could a wizard possibly ask of a hobbit?

At last the Old Took himself emerged from the Smials, beaming in welcome. 'Gandalf! It has been too long since you graced our humble abode! Welcome, welcome! You're well in time for tea... come in, come in!' He glanced about the yard, looking in vain for a waggon or cart and added, 'But did you not bring your fireworks?'

The old man threw back his head and laughed. 'I have not forgotten,' he said at last. 'It is your birthday this week. One hundred and twenty years! I would be seriously remiss, not to mark the occasion!'

The Old Took hooked his thumbs in his waistcoat and puffed up with pleasure as he rocked back on his heels. 'Not that it's a grand accomplishment,' he said. 'Just living, that's all.'

'Just living,' chuckled the Wizard. 'Worth celebrating, when you spend your life living for others and not for yourself!'

The Old Took blushed with pleasure. 'Well now,' he said dismissively. 'There's a glass of ale in my study with your name on it, old friend. Shall we go in?'

Though the occasion might seem to call for a grand entry, the Old Took led his visitor through one of the lesser entrances on the ground level, rather than leading him up the steps to the Great Door--steps made for the feet of hobbits, and rather awkward for a man to tread.

There was quite a buzz of conversation in the yard for some time after. 'Do you think we'll have fireworks?' was the main theme, though there was an undercurrent of grumbling as well. Always brings bad news when he comes...

And so Bilbo found himself waiting outside the study door, which was slightly ajar, for it was just before teatime and he had his journal under his arm. He was supposed to bring his daily writings to his grandfather before teatime, but he hesitated to interrupt the conversation. He didn't want to go away again, and have his grandfather's public scolding at tea in the great room for not having brought his journal for approval. No messenger waited outside the Thain's study, so there was no one to take the journal from him. He could wait for the messenger to return, or he could wait for his grandfather to emerge, or he could tap at the door. He just had to make up his mind.

Meanwhile, the listening was fascinating.

'...storeholes are full to bursting, all over the Shire,' his grandfather was saying. 'We're in the middle of harvest now, and frankly, I don't know where we're going to put all the stuff!'

'I'm glad to hear that you've had good harvests, the past few years, and have not squandered the bounty in feasting and frolic,' Gandalf said.

'I should say we learned our lesson in the time of the Dearth,' the Old Took answered, and Bilbo shivered. 'Certainly bounty is to be celebrated. We are not misers, to squirrel away our nuts and forget where we buried them! Or dragons, to sit on our useless hoards. No, we make good use of the bounty of the earth, but we store as much as we use, and we take care to use it lest it spoil and be wasted.'

'The years have taught you wisdom, old friend,' Gandalf said, and Gerontius laughed.

'Well, they've taught me something or other,' he answered. 'That's to be sure... but I do appreciate your coming to warn us...'

Bilbo missed the rest of the sentiment for a hand seized his shoulder. 'Listening at doorways?' a voice growled. It was the messenger, returning to his post outside the Thain's study.

'Really, Tally,' he said, trying to twist out of the grasp, and holding up his journal. 'I was only waiting...'

'Ah,' said Talibras. 'Best excuse for eavesdropping I've heard yet.' He tapped at the door, and the talk within stopped. Swinging wide the door, the messenger said, 'Visitor, Sir.'

'Ah, my grandson!' Gerontius said. 'Come in, Bilbo! Mind your manners.'

'We've met,' Gandalf said, rising from his seat, and rising, and still rising, until his head nearly brushed the tall ceiling. 'This is one of the young hobbits who so kindly escorted me from Tuckborough Market.'

Bilbo bowed to the old man and then extended the journal to his grandfather's waiting hand. The old hobbit turned to the proper page and harrumphed.  'Well now, your handwriting is coming along,' he said. 'But more menu lists! I tell you, I tire of reading of crumpets and cakes! A little more meat, that's what's wanted!'

The wizard chuckled. 'Perhaps your birthday fireworks will give him something of interest to write about.'

'P'rhaps,' the Old Took said, scowling at his grandson from under his eyebrows. 'One can only hope...' He thrust the journal back into Bilbo's hands. 'Off wit' ye, now! And don't let me catch you writing another list of foodstuffs in your journal for the next fortnight!'

'Yes, Grandfather!' Bilbo said, and with a hasty bow to the guest he turned once more to leave. As the door closed behind him, the wizard spoke again and his grandfather laughed, and if Tally hadn't been standing at his post, Bilbo would have taken up listening once more. It wasn't every day a wizard came to the door...

10/31/05





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