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When Winter Fell  by Lindelea


Chapter 2. From the Frying Pan into the Fire

Bilbo chortled and then covered his mouth, looking up quickly. Uncle Isengar was studying the book in his hand, but the corners of his mouth quirked in a smile.

But then the young hobbit's stomach made its presence and state of emptiness known with a pronounced rumble, and Bilbo stood up from the chair, closing the journal on his finger and letting it dangle from his hand.

'The rashers of bacon do it to me every time,' Isengar observed to his own book.

'I--I beg your pardon, Uncle,' Bilbo said.

'You have it,' Isengar said without looking up. He turned over a page, apparently absorbed.

'It must be close to teatime,' Bilbo said.

'Rather,' Isengar agreed, drawing out the word in an affected way.

'If I might take this with me...' Bilbo said.

'If you might,' Isengar answered in an agreeable manner.

Bilbo edged his way towards the door, but his uncle never moved, nor spoke.

Once he reached the door, the tween felt as if he'd been released from restraint by some invisible rope. He was off like a shot from the bow, running towards the great room, until he collided with one of his Tookish cousins.

'Here now!' Flambard Took protested, getting up from the floor and brushing imaginary dust from his clothes. 'There's no running in the Smials; you know that!'

'Sorry,' Bilbo said, picking up the journals he'd let fall, and glancing behind as he rose again.

'What's the matter?' Flambard said. 'Is the roof about to fall in?'

'He's being haunted by the ghost of Uncle Isengar,' Sigismond said, coming up behind Bilbo.

'How did you...?' Bilbo said.

'I saw you turn into the Old Tunnel,' Siggy said. 'I thought you might be exploring, and I went to follow you, but Uncle Isen was there before me, and I wasn't about to follow him!'

Bilbo shuddered, and Flambard laughed. 'He's harmless,' the older tween said, 'even if he's off his head.'

'Gives me the shivers,' Siggy said cheerily. 'But what gives me worse shivers is the possibility of coming late to tea. Don't just stand here chatting!'

'What've you got there, cousin?' Flambard said as they walked hurriedly towards the great room.

Siggy gave a bark of laughter. 'Grandfather's taken exception to his handwriting!' he said. 'And look, his writing is so dreadful he's been given two journals!'

Somehow Bilbo didn't like the idea of his cousins laughing over the journal entries of Thain Fortinbras, even if they were written long before he became Thain. 'It's pretty dreadful,' he said lightly. 'Might take as many as five or ten journals, Grandfather told me, until "practice makes perfect".'

Flambard clapped hand to forehead. 'I see it now!' he cried. 'The Bagginses are known for their business acumen! Cousin Bilbo has convinced Grandfather that his writing is terrible, and so Grandfather is going to gift him with expensive journals, and he's going to sell them at a tidy profit in the marketplace!'

'My scheme has been discovered,' Bilbo said. 'Woe is me!'

Siggy patted his shoulder. 'Wish I'd thought of it first,' he said. 'I finished my journal-writing last year, and Grandfather pronounced my hand-writing "passable".'

'You'll have to find some other means to fortune,' Bilbo informed him.

'Don't I know it!' Siggy said. 'Perhaps I'll go to sea...'

'No fortune there,' Flambard said heavily. 'Only ruin, and madness.'

'Hush!' Fortinbras said (Cousin Fortinbras, that was, and not Great-Grandfather), coming from the other direction and meeting them at the entrance to the great room.

They entered and took their places. Bilbo put his journals under his chair, where they'd be safe from prying eyes and examination by curious Tooks. 'Well, my lad,' Bungo Baggins said. 'How is the writing coming along?'

'I haven't started yet,' Bilbo said flatly.

'But you were to have written an entry every day before teatime,' Belladonna said worriedly from his other side.

'Uncle Isengar got hold of me,' Bilbo said.

'Isen!' Belladonna exclaimed. 'What did he--?'

'He's harmless,' Bungo said. 'But I don't know that your grandfather will accept such an explanation.'

'What did he do?' Belladonna persisted.

'Dragged me to the library, sat me down and made me read a book,' Bilbo said. 'I had no chance to get away and start writing... every time I looked up, his eye was upon me. He only let me go a little while ago.'

'Dragging young hobbits to the library and forcing them to read,' Uncle Hildibrand muttered. 'What will he come to next, I ask you?'

'He's harmless,' Bungo said a little louder, and seeing tears in his wife's eyes, he reached across Bilbo's plate to pat Belladonna's hand. 'Really, love, no harm done. Bilbo could use more time in books and less in tweenish mischief.'

Sigismond, beyond them and on the other side of the table, rolled his eyes. He was the same age as Bilbo and they'd planned some wonderful pranks, to accomplish during this visit.

But all talk was curtailed in a scraping of chairs as everyone rose to acknowledge the entrance of the Thain.

Gerontius nodded graciously and took his seat, and all the Tooks and relations and guests sat down once more, ready to begin eating and drinking and gossiping: all the enjoyments of tea in company.

But no. The Thain cleared his throat and beckoned towards Bilbo. 'Yes, you!' he said impatiently as Bilbo looked from left to right.

Bungo rose from his chair and bowed toward the Thain. 'Beg pardon, Sir,' he said.

'Beg pardon?' Gerontius harrumphed. 'Beg pardon? What ever for?'

Bilbo had started to rise as well, but his father's hand on his shoulder held him in his seat.

'I am sorry,' Bungo said, 'but the lad did not complete his journal entry, though no fault of his own. I ask, on his behalf, that he be allowed to take tea, on the promise that he will present to you a journal entry, in the best hand-writing he can manage, before supper.'

'No fault of his own?' Gerontius said, knitting his bushy eyebrows.

'I assure you, Sir,' Bungo said.

'Father,' Belladonna began, but her husband overrode her. It would not do to upset the Old Took with mention of his youngest son.

'I shall personally see Bilbo to our quarters, provide him with pen and ink, and watch over him, blotter in hand, until he has finished today's entry.' Behind his hand, he whispered, and I'll make sure your spelling is satisfactory into the bargain. Bilbo gave a sigh of relief.

Gerontius seemed to consider this, and then said, 'I'm a busy hobbit. I've no time to waste with nonsense.'

Bilbo fought the impulse to roll his own eyes. Why did his grandfather plague young hobbits with journals, then? And long speeches about boring subjects? He looked to Siggy and had to look hastily away, before he was led to burst out laughing at his cousin's expression.

'Very well,' Gerontius added. 'I want you in my study half an hour before supper, journal in hand.'

'Yes, Grandfather,' Bilbo said. So much for the prank he and Sigismond had planned for after tea this day.

***

15 July

For Tea today I had four cucumber sandwiches, a helping of salmon mousse, three stuffed eggs, eight stuffed mushrooms, two seedcakes, and three scones with cream and strawberry preserves. I would have had four, but Uncle Hildibrand took the last from the serving platter.





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