May 2003

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The day after Bilbo Baggins' one hundred and eleventy-first birth-day party was a trying one for Frodo, who had been left to deal with the aftermath. There had been some excitement and questions the night before, after Bilbo had disappeared so abruptly, but most of the partygoers assumed it was only a prank played by the odd, old hobbit, and that the mystery would soon be cleared up.

In the morning, the curious came to Bag End to see if Bilbo had made his reappearance yet. At first, Frodo welcomed all callers, but he had little more to say than, "Uncle Bilbo has gone away--as far as I know, for good."

A few of the visitors were invited into the front hall, where packages and parcels were piled in wait; Bilbo had left gifts, many with pointed messages, for his friends, neighbors, and closest relations.

The distribution of these gifts, however, soon led to rumors that the whole household was being given away. Chaos ensued. By mid-day, the wild story had spread throughout Hobbiton, and a good-sized crowd was gathered at Bag End. The lane leading up to the house was packed with people eager for their share of the spoils. Some had even brought carts or wheelbarrows.

The legend of Bilbo's dragon-hoard gold had also drawn hopeful treasure hunters. Several young hobbits were caught knocking holes in the walls or digging up the gardens. The former were escorted from the premises by an increasingly exasperated Frodo and his friend and cousin, Merry, who had been one of the first visitors that morning and had stayed to help out. The latter were tossed over the hedge by an outraged Sam.

By late afternoon, it had all become more than Frodo could cope with. He retreated into the study, asking Merry to receive any callers and to keep an eye out for gold hunters. He was sorting through the papers Bilbo had left for him when the Sackville-Bagginses arrived.

"So, Bilbo's gone off, has he?" Lobelia asked as soon as Merry answered the door.

"That's right."

"Then where is Frodo? We want to talk to him."

"He is indisposed," Merry answered, as instructed.

"Hiding, you mean," said Lobelia, and tried to peer around him into the parlor. "We want to see him and we mean to see him. Just go and tell him so!"

Merry left her and her son Lotho in the front hall, giving Lobelia time to discover the gift Bilbo had left her: A case of silver spoons. Bilbo had always believed that she had appropriated many of his best spoons while he had been away on his travels.

When Frodo emerged from the study, Lobelia was stuffing the case into her capacious and loosely folded umbrella.

"What can I do for you, Aunt Lobelia?" he asked with deliberate politeness.

Lobelia did not appreciate the familial term of address. "I was noticing some of the lovely things you have here--Bilbo's old things," she replied, looking at various valuable items. "If no one else has claimed them, we'll be glad to take them off your hands. I'm even prepared to pay. What about that?" She indi-cated a large pewter serving platter perched atop a sideboard near the parlor door; it had belonged to Bilbo's mother and had been in the Took family for generations. It was easily worth three times the sum Lobelia offered for it.

When Frodo said that he couldn't think of parting with a family heirloom, she replied, "A young hobbit like you couldn't have any need for so big a service! You'd never use it. Couldn't you let us have it at a bargain?"

"As between friends?" added Lotho.

"Since you're giving all of Bilbo's property away anyway," Lobelia continued, "why not take a good price when it's offered you?"

"I'm afraid you've been misinformed," Frodo answered firmly. "Only the things specially directed by Bilbo are being given away." He had already had enough trouble with labels being torn off and mixed up, as well as people trying to carry off items not meant for them --or anything that wasn't nailed down. He did not intend for Lo-belia to leave Bag End with anything except her spoons.

"And the rest of it has been left to you?" asked Lotho.

"Yes, that's right."

His mother snorted derisively. "One thing is clear to me, Frodo Baggins, and that is that you have done exceedingly well out of this. Did Bilbo leave a will?"

"As a matter of fact, he did. I've just been looking it over. Would you like to see?"

"We insist on it."

While Frodo went back into the study, Merry stayed with their guests to be certain that nothing else went into Lobelia's umbrella.

"You see it's all been correctly done," said Frodo once he had produced the will; Lobelia examined it with the thoroughness of deep suspicion, then handed it to her son to read. "Everything according to proper legal form. Seven witnesses, signed in red ink." Bilbo had set it up very carefully, foreseeing exactly this situation.

Lotho tossed the will back at him. "Most unfair, it call it."

"A gross injustice!" added his mother. "My Lotho should have been Bilbo's rightful heir. He is the only child of Bilbo's own first cousin."

"So am I," said Frodo.

Merry ducked his head to hide behind Frodo and tried not to laugh out loud while Lobelia fumed at this indisputable fact.

"On your mother's side!" she said after grasping momentarily for a suitably stinging retort. "You don't belong here--you're no true Baggins- you- you're a Brandybuck!"

With that parting shot, Lobelia turned and stalked out, Lotho following in her wake.

Frodo shut the door behind them. "Did you hear that, Merry? That was an insult, if you like."

"It was a compliment," replied Merry Brandybuck, "and so, of course, not true."

"I think it's time to close up shop." Frodo leaned wearily on the curving wall of the hallway. "Let's lock the door, and not open it to anyone else, not even if they bring a battering ram."

"That sounds like a good idea." Merry drew the bolt as Frodo went into the parlor to draw the curtains on the front windows. With twilight's approach, the last of the crowd was finally dis-persing in disappointment. "You look awfully tired. Why don't I get you some tea?"

"Thank you. Tea would be very welcome right now." Frodo picked up a sealed envelope that had been left on the mantlepiece. When Merry returned with tea, he found his cousin in a chair before the fire, envelope in hand.

"What's that?" he asked. "Did Bilbo leave a message for you?"

"Gandalf gave it to me last night, but it's from Bilbo... one more thing he left me. I'd almost forgotten it. " As Frodo tucked the envelope into his waistcoat pocket, Merry could hear some small but heavy object shifting inside. "Gandalf told me to put it away somewhere safe, and then he left so suddenly himself just afterwards."

Merry set down the tea tray on a nearby low table and started on the poppy-seed cakes. "I wonder if Gandalf wasn't in on Bilbo's disappearing trick," he ventured between mouthfuls. "The way Bilbo vanished like magic, he must've been. It'll be the talk of the Shire for weeks to come." He watched his cousin for a response, but Frodo was not forthcoming. "Did you know what they were planning to do?"

"I had an idea that Bilbo meant to leave, and I guessed that Gandalf knew about it -- but, no, that trick at the party was as much of a surprise to me as everyone else. Gandalf told me that Bilbo was going to see the elves."

"And Bilbo didn't ask you to go with him?"

Frodo shook his head. "I rather wish he had, especially after this horrible day! It would have been fun to go off on an ad-venture, but someone has to stay here to look after Bag End." He helped himself to tea and confiscated some of the cakes before Merry had a chance to finish them off. After a few comforting sips, he sank back with a sigh. "Do you know, I only felt as if I'd truly found a home when I first came here? That's why I intend to fight to keep it."

"Do you think it'll come to that?"

"I hope not. I hope I've seen the last of the Sackville-Baggins-es for some time. Bilbo's will ought to stop them from giving me too much trouble. They've always considered me a usurper, you know. 'No true Baggins.' The funny thing, Merry, is that all the time I was growing up at Brandy Hall, the Brandybucks thought of me as 'that Baggins boy'. I'm certain they felt I was returning to my proper place when Uncle Bilbo finally brought me here to live with him."

"That's not so," Merry insisted. "We all missed you when you went away. I did."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm being too sensitive. I never felt I belonged there, at least, not after my mother and father died. It wasn't as if I were a charity case -- my parents left me well enough off in that respect -- but I never forgot that I was the poor little orphan."

"You've got a point there," his cousin conceded. "No one ever let you forget it. All the aunties went around calling you 'poor, dear Frodo' in that mournful way, and Mother was always telling me that I had to be `specially nice to you."

"They meant well. You were very sweet, whether your mother told you to or not," Frodo answered with a small smile. "I don't suppose you remember, Merry--you were no more than nine. One night, just after my parents died, you came and sat on my bed and asked me please not to cry anymore."

"Of course I remember." Merry grinned. "You were keeping everyone in the nursery awake, and I wanted you to be quiet so I could go to sleep."

Frodo laughed. "You've just destroyed one of my cherished childhood memories! I thought you were being kind. You stayed with me even after I stopped crying."

"I was being kind! It was awful to see you so sad and not be able to do anything to help. But I was jealous too, with all the grown-ups making such a fuss over you."

"I felt as if I were the center of attention, in the midst of dozens of people, and yet I was never more alone in my life." Frodo sipped his tea thoughtfully. "I feel rather the same way now that Uncle Bilbo's gone. It was odd, being by myself in the house for the first time last night. I'm glad you're here." And, leaning across the tea-tray, he gave his cousin a kiss. "Will you stay with me awhile, Merry? I promise I won't cry all night this time."

Merry was surprised. They had not played together much that way even when they were boys, since Frodo had left Brandy Hall at an age when he was old enough to begin to take an interest in that sort of thing. But Frodo must be feeling very lonely right now, and he didn't mind if it helped an old friend.

"Yes, if you want," he answered. "No one'll miss me in Buckland if I don't go home for a few days. But wouldn't you rather have Sam in? I thought you and he..?"

"Sam," said Frodo, slumping back again, "is in love with Rosie Cotton. They'll be getting married one day soon, if he can work up the courage to talk to her, and I don't intend to make things difficult for him by forcing him to choose between us. Besides, it wouldn't be right, now that I'm master here." He finished his tea. "We'll probably all go that way sooner or later--grow up, marry, settle down respectably, and never even think about having adventures," he went on wistfully as he set down his empty cup. "Sometimes I wonder if anything exciting will ever happen to me."

"You'll get your chance someday," Merry told him. "Maybe even visit the elves, just like Bilbo. And there's no reason to be respectable just yet." He smiled. "I intend to fight it off for as long as I can. Want to join me?" He reached out to offer Frodo his hand; Frodo returned his smile as he took it.

Before they went to bed, Frodo put the sealed envelope into a chest in the study and piled some papers on top of it before he shut the lid.

!~|end|~!