Chapter 36. Growing Up

As the head of the large and prosperous Baggins family as well as the Old Took's son in love, Bungo enjoyed the use of one of the best guest suites in the Great Smials proper whenever he came to conduct business with the Tooks or brought Bella for a visit with her family.

...for he did not bring his dear wife with him every time he must travel away from home, no matter how much he would have liked to do so. In all honesty, he felt the need to protect his beloved from any and all danger; and that included the influence of her family. Bella's health had broken during the difficult time after Isen had run away. By that time, Bungo had been seeking Bella's hand in marriage for nearly a year while meeting ongoing, stiff resistance from her parents. 

But then young Isen disappeared. Upon learning that his youngest son had spoken to Bella about his desire to "follow the wizard", and that Bella had chosen not to betray her youngest brother's trust, the Old Took had been furious. Because his anger blew cold rather than hot, he had sent an abrupt, terse message to Bungo, accepting the latter's suit with the demand that, if he still wanted her, the Baggins should come and carry her off at once. Otherwise, she'd be married off forthwith, just as soon as a suitable match could be found.

In essence, though she came away with her sizeable dowry – keeping up appearances by giving the impression that her family had blessed her union with Bungo despite the lack of a grand, extravagant wedding celebration as was typically found in the Great Families – Bella had been disinherited in every aspect but money and banished from the Tookland.

Alas, poor Belladonna. Bungo loved her more than his own life, and she loved her husband in equal measure. On her arrival in Bywater, where Bungo kept a suite of rooms, Bella had thrust her inheritance into his hands and insisted he spend it freely until it was gone – "It's that, or I'll give it all away at the market on the morrow!" 

In the end, the newly married couple did give generously to the community around them, which only seemed right to both of them. Nevertheless, Bungo also used some of Bella's funds to build the most luxurious hobbit hole to be found in the Four Farthings. The resulting smial was arguably as magnificent as any of the Great Holes though on a much smaller scale, of course, designed to shelter Bungo and his Bella and any children that might come along, with well-appointed guest rooms enough for the most hospitable of hobbits. In any event, even though he would someday become the head of the Baggins family, he had no intentions of putting up with a host of relatives with ambitions as to becoming permanent residents, not after what he'd seen of life in the Great Smials!

...but even the most comfortable surroundings were not enough to sustain Bella's broken heart. Not only had she lost her dear, departed brother – she had lost her entire family, along with the only home she had ever known. The excitement of planning and building, along with purchasing and furnishing and decorating, had sustained Bella through the first year or so of their marriage, but soon after they had moved into their new abode, Bella had fallen seriously ill, such that Bungo had, for a short but agonising period, despaired of her life. Her recovery had been slow and, at times, difficult. To his relief, she had recovered at last but continued to tire easily and became prostrated when she tried to do too much. Though she would have denied any such thing, Bella's health had remained delicate ever since. Consequently, Bungo watched over the welfare of his wife (and, after Bilbo's birth, the welfare of his son, of course) with all the fierceness of a dragon guarding his hoard, even after the Old Took had reconciled with the daughter that in his anger he had, for all practical purposes, banished.

This visit had the Baggins at his most watchful, considering the hazards to be overcome or, if at all possible, avoided altogether. He was keenly aware of the danger to Isengar... not that his relatives meant the hobbit harm – oh no! Quite the opposite, actually. They were much more likely to "kill him with kindness" as the old saying went.

If they determined that Isen was irretrievably mad – perhaps even a danger to himself or others – they would shut him away. Captivity would not resemble a dungeon or gaol that one might read about in a children's book of fantastical tales of Men or Dwarves. The Old Took would make sure his youngest son was surrounded by every luxury imaginable... while a hopeless prisoner.

'But this is no storybook,' Bungo whispered to himself, hands clenching unconsciously. No knight will ride to his rescue; no hero will release the hobbit from captivity...

Young Bilbo jerked suddenly (perhaps in response to the word "storybook"), catching his father's attention and bringing Bungo out of his brown study. 'Bilbo, lad? Is aught amiss?'

'All's well, Dad,' Bilbo said, using the more casual term characteristic of a tween. His lad was growing up... but perversely, Bungo suddenly missed his beloved son's childish "Papa" from not so long ago.

'What's that?' Bungo said, nodding at the book in his son's hands. At first glance, he'd thought it was his son's journal. Of course Bilbo had packed that book to bring to the Great Smials; Bungo had personally seen to that detail. What with Isen's precarious situation, his Baggins brother in love wanted to avoid anything, however minor, that might irritate the Old Took.

Yes, Bungo thought to himself on seeing Bilbo's physical response, that certainly looks like a guilty start.

But then Bilbo hefted the leather-bound book with its fine white paper and gilt edges as if he had nothing to hide. 'O this?' the tween said as if it hardly mattered. His attempt at a casual tone was marred by the blush that rose from his collar to his ears. 'I – I,' he stammered, and then stopped himself. 'I beg your pardon, Papa.'

'My pardon?' Bungo asked, curiosity increasing. 'Why would you need to beg my pardon, Son?'

'I...' Bilbo began, and swallowed hard. 'I brought away this book from the library...'

'Our library?' Bungo queried when the words petered out. 'While I would prefer that you'd inform me when you're taking a book out of the smial with you – books come quite dear, as you know, and should not be handled lightly or carelessly...'

'N-no,' Bilbo said, looking up from the book he held to meet his father's questioning gaze. 'It's from the Tooks' library. I... I brought it home with me. I didn't think anyone would notice, actually. It was on a dusty shelf, and...'

'Bagginses are not burglars,' Bungo said, more sternly than his usual mien.

'I'm bringing it back!' Bilbo protested. 'And I've been ever so careful! I've taken as much care – more, even – as I do with my own books!'

Bungo's lips twitched, though the father managed to refrain from smiling at this serious moment. Bilbo's personal library had begun on the day of his birth and had slowly grown enough over time to fill a tall bookcase by now. Along with his felicitations for Belladonna and congratulations for Bungo, Bilbo's Grandfather Baggins had presented Bungo with a beautifully illustrated picture book, the pictures exquisitely rendered in ink and watercolours, with hopes that the lad would continue the good work begun this very day...

'I am glad for the care you've taken,' he said to his erring son. 'Nevertheless, you ought to have asked permission first! And taken the answer No with grace and good manners if your Grandfather Took had seen fit to refuse your request.'

'Yes, Papa,' Bilbo said in a low voice, his gaze dropping to his toes once more. 'I – I was just returning it to its place in the library, as a matter of fact. And...' the tween gulped. '...and I'll apologise to Grandfather...'

'No need for that,' Bungo said hastily. 'You just put that book back where it belongs, and no more will need to be said. And you'll ask permission, next time!'

'Of course!' Bilbo said, lifting his gaze and giving Bungo a firm nod.

'Very well, then,' Bungo said. 'You may go about your business, and I'll see you at teatime in the great room with your journal in hand... and on that note, I'm quite pleased that you applied yourself to making today's entry before breakfast, even!'

'I didn't want to be drawn away by my cousins and forget altogether,' Bilbo said. Rather unexpectedly, he added, 'I don't want to do anything that might irritate Grandfa!'

Bungo noted with appreciation that while in the Tookland, Bilbo was employing the Tookish custom which would certainly please the Old Took. He met his son's meaningful look with a nod of his own. They were on the same page, in a manner of speaking, joined together in a conspiracy to bring Isengar to a good outcome. But all he said was, 'Very good, Son.'

*** 

In a shadowy corner of the Tooks' grand library, Bilbo slipped the old journal into place. 'Good luck to you, Great-grandfather,' he whispered to the book in lieu of the hobbit who'd written it. 'I learned a lot from you, even though our acquaintance may have been brief and fleeting.' He smiled suddenly. 'You were quite a bit younger than I am, and yet... so much of what you wrote sounded so very familiar, somehow.' He gently patted the book before pushing it back a little on the shelf to obscure it between two other books, just as it had been before Isen had taken it off the shelf and presented it to Bilbo with the demand that the lad sit down and read.

How long ago that incident seemed now, fading like the writing on an old piece of foolscap, browning ink that had once stood black and bold on the once-white but now yellowing page. Looking back, he thought, that day now represented to him the day he had hovered at the threshold to maturity – tweenhood, if not quite adulthood – and, stepping over, left childhood behind.

***