The Storyteller

By: Elemmírë

Summary: During the Long-Expected Party, Bilbo reflects on 60 years of storytelling. Movie-verse mostly.

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings does not belong to me, nor am I making any profit off either its story or characters.

Author's Note: This was written for Marigold's Tale Challenge 30, in which I had to include the following elements: Bilbo, the Shire, an important task, & a troll.

The very first time Bilbo Baggins had ever shared his tale of unexpected adventure of journeying with Gandalf the Grey Wizard and thirteen Dwarves, was in the year 1341 S.R. on the return journey home to the Shire. Even after all Bilbo had faced during his Adventure, he had found it a bit overwhelming at first to sit in the grand Hall of Fire in Rivendell, legendary home of the Elves. The Elves, headed by Lord Elrond, had listened to him spin his tale in the enormous hall with polite courtesy and even amusement, most especially at his thwarting King Thranduil's imprisonment of the Dwarves. Bilbo didn’t know why, but he hoped that none of them suspected his glossing over the fact of exactly just how it was that he had been able to hide so effectively from their brethren Elves ... and much to his content, none of them asked. Well, Lord Elrond and Gandalf had been whispering in the corner, but he had managed to avoid their questions during his all-too brief stay in Rivendell.

Avoiding the Man child's questions had been exceedingly more difficult, if Bilbo remembered correctly. It had been ten-year old Estel, the heir of the Dúnadain being fostered by Lord Elrond, who had requested more and more of the exciting story during Bilbo's stay. Every spare moment the boy had, he could be found tagging along after the little hobbit, pestering him with endless questions much to his poor mother's dismay. At first Bilbo had been a little wary ... for although hobbit children were curious (the Tooks especially), they were not as outspoken as young Estel seemed to be. Bilbo soon warmed up to the boy and was more than happy to answer his seemingly never-ending questions. Bilbo even missed Estel tagging about when he was off having his lessons. It was then that Bilbo realized he had a knack for storytelling and even enjoyed doing so. His mother, Belladonna Took would be proud. His father, Bungo, would be less so--a strictest Baggins he was, proper, respectable, and totally predictable to the last. Bilbo often wondered what his dear departed father would have thought of his Adventure.

After he had returned to his home of Bag End in the Shire (and reclaimed it from the dreadful Sackville-Bagginses), Bilbo had been plied by his numerous relations of his quite extensive family. They had all been flabbergasted that he, a highly respected and the most predictable of Bagginses, would just go off and have an Adventure. Blame, of course, was immediately placed upon Gandalf the Grey, and the conjurer of cheap tricks (and fireworks) was officially declared a "Disturber of the Peace."

Culpability was also placed upon Bilbo's own deceased mother, Belladonna Took! The large Took family was, of course, known throughout the Shire for their impulsive, bold, and daring nature, but to have some go so far as to say that Bungo Baggins should never have married Belladonna Took in the first place, was utterly unacceptable to their only son. Others completely shunned him altogether--to his surprise, Bilbo had found that he really didn't care or miss those particular hobbits. Unfortunately and much to his regret, it had not been the Sackville-Bagginses who had refused to have anything more to do with him. In fact, they seemed to bother him more than ever, as they were after Bag End relentlessly, having narrowly missed inheriting it when Bilbo was presumed for dead.

So it was much to Bilbo's surprise when invited to celebrate Yule with his Took relations at the Great Smials that year, it was actually requested of him to share his story. The plea had come from the youngest of his Brandybuck first cousins, who was also the youngest of Gorbadoc Brandybuck and Mirabella Took's seven children, 21-year old Primula Brandybuck. Primula had heard the rumors that Cousin Bilbo had gone on an Adventure and she thought it would make a splendid fireside tale.

Bilbo had found he could not resist the little lass with the pretty blue eyes and lightly freckled nose and he had quickly become the center of attention at the party, surrounded by a group of wide-eyed hobbit children of all ages, ranging from faunt to tween. Bilbo could remember with distinction each little hobbit (and some older ones) that had plopped down at his feet to hear all about his exciting Adventure, much to their parents' displeasure or amusement. In addition to 21-year old Primula, there had been several of her older brothers and sister: 25-year old Dinodas; 28-year old Asphodel; and 31-year old Dodinas. Primula had even wrested her one-year old nephew, Saradoc, away from his father so he could hear the story too, even though the lad could barely talk yet. Knowing just how much his youngest sister was proud of being an aunt, Rorimac and his again pregnant wife, Menegilda, let Primula dote upon their lad ... within reason that was.

Being at the Great Smials, there had been a healthy contingent of Took lads and lasses as well that had joined their more reluctant Brandybuck cousins for the story that promised Adventure. There had been 25-year old Ferumbras II, the future Thain; 13-year old Adelard; three-year old Rosamunda, holding a one-year old Ferdinand; eight-year old Paladin; and his sisters, 11-year old Petunia, and five-year old Esmeralda among many others.

Much to Bilbo's amazement, the little ones had sat enthralled for hours as he unraveled his tale and the tradition had continued ever since. For the first time since he had returned to the Shire, Bilbo had felt useful again and wanted. Whenever there was a large gathering of hobbit children, it was always demanded of Bilbo to tell a story from his Adventure--even on his own birthday!

The only ones who would not request a story of him were those of Baggins descent. In fact, Bilbo had been such a hit at Yule and other occasions that he had taken it upon himself to gather the young Bagginses around him, along with his Brandybuck and Took cousins, at what had been his 52nd birthday party.

His Baggins cousins including Dora, Dudo, and Otho especially had scoffed at him for sharing such nonsense. The little ones, Ponto, Porto, Peony, and Daisy had all listened well enough and thought it all a simply fantastic story … but that was it. None of them believed that Bilbo had really experienced any of those things he told about. One would have to be mad to leave the idyllic Shire in search of the unpredictable world of the Big Folk.

Only 34-year old Drogo had seemed to show any interest in the tale, until it was determined that he wasn’t really paying any attention at all to Bilbo. He was instead captivated by young Primula’s beauty, although she was twelve years younger than he and nowhere near of age yet. Bilbo had observed over the years that the only time Drogo would linger near those gathered to listen to his story, was whenever Miss Primula Brandybuck was in attendance. Drogo was a shy hobbit and would sit quietly next to her, hoping to catch the lass’s pretty blue eyes. When Primula was closer to being of age, the two were more formally introduced to each other and they both fell madly in love and married soon after Primula came of age. Little did they know that their coupling would eventually result in one of the greatest hobbits ever to grace the Shire.

The years passed and Bilbo continued to tell his tale to those that asked and were eager to listen. However, the Master of Bag End had yet to meet his biggest admirers. When the youngest member of the Baggins clan became captivated with his honorary uncle, Bilbo was more than delighted. Beginning when little Frodo was a faunt--that is a walker and talker--he would follow his uncle around, always demanding a story. After the lad’s parents drowned tragically, Bilbo’s numerous tales were one of the few stabilities and securities left in the young orphaned child’s life. For Frodo, Bilbo’s tales of Adventure and the Dwarves, Elves, and Men in them represented a fantastical life outside of the Shire and more importantly, the means to pretend and imagine and try to forget his misery and woes. Frodo was still a Baggins however, and while he believed in the existence of the Dwarves, Elves, and Men, he half-believed other parts of the tale, such as Gollum … until he found them to be quite true in an Adventure of his own, also prompted by Gandalf the Grey.

Bilbo’s second biggest admirer was none other than his gardener’s youngest lad, Samwise Gamgee. For whatever reason, the little lad had become enamored with everything and anything to do with the Elves. Little Samwise enjoyed Mr. Bilbo’s other tales as well, but the stories involving the Elves had always been his absolute favorites and he was so naïve that he believed just about anything the old hobbit told him ... or appeared to anyway.

The more he told his tales, the more Bilbo found he enjoyed sharing them--and the less he cared about what others thought of him for doing so. He no longer cared if he was believed or not. The important task of sharing his knowledge of the world of the Big Folk took precedence. Although the hobbit children may not have believed his adventures, they were made to realize that there was another world outside of the Shire. And over the years, his storytelling skills grew until he’d honed them into a fine art. For all the rest of his peculiarities, “Mad Baggins,” as he’d become to be known, also had the reputation of being the finest weaver of tales in all the Shire, an aspect which Bilbo grew to be proud of over the years.

It went on this way for over thirty years. The group of small faces sitting eagerly at his bare feet would change every decade or so, as the little ones grew older. Eventually, they became either disinterested or disbelieving, but there was always a new batch of hobbit children flocking to him to take the previous generation’s place, listening to the seemingly fantastical stories he wove with rapt attention.

The night of his Long-Expected Party was no different. After he had welcomed all 144 of his and Frodo’s guests and the party was in full swing, Bilbo sat himself down on a bench placed before a large blanket that had been laid upon the grass for this purpose. In front him sat a group of the youngest hobbits present at the party and he looked them over with a keen eye. His listeners were comprised entirely of young children and faunts. The eldest didn’t look to be over ten-years old.

Bilbo sighed. Usually he had a much bigger gathering than this, but he supposed the thrill of a seeing a fabled wizard and chasing after firework butterflies were far more exciting fare tonight for the older teens and tweens. Those that weren’t busy spying on Gandalf’s every move, were dancing merrily in the throng of hobbits as the band began to play a popular tune, 'Flaming Red Hair.’

Bilbo cocked one eye at the various young Tooks, Brandybucks, Burrowses, and Hornblowers sitting before him. The Bracegirdles hadn’t arrived yet, otherwise the number of listeners would have been doubled. As gossip and rumor would have it, he had heard that Mrs. Bracegirdle had been rather productive within the last decade.

“I suppose you’re all waiting to hear my story about the trolls,” Bilbo said, crossing his arms and staring down at the children gathered at his furry feet.

Nearly a dozen pairs of brown, green, and hazel eyes shined brightly with excitement, tiny hands clenched together tightly in anticipation, and the little, brown curly heads nodded eagerly.

Bilbo smiled down at the children and unfolded his arms, bringing his worn hands to rest upon the thighs of his black velvet breeches. He cleared his throat with as much drama as he could muster, causing a young lass in the front row to giggle.

“Very well, then. It all began a long time ago when the famed and powerful wizard, Gandalf the Grey, came knocking at my door as I was having my morning pipe. …. That’s Gandalf over there, by the way,” Bilbo made sure to point his friend out to the children. “It was the most beautiful, glorious day there ever was in the Shire and so I naturally greeted him a cheerful 'Good Morning' …..”

As Bilbo wove his seemingly magical tale about his adventure with the wizard and Dwarves to the little ones sitting before him, the children sat enraptured. Bilbo had commanded their full attention--a dragon could have swooped down upon them and they wouldn’t have noticed, they were concentrating on his every word so.

"So there I was, at the mercy of three monstrous trolls! And they were all arguing amongst themselves about how they were going to cook us. Whether it be turned on a spit or whether they should sit on us one by one and squash us into jelly ...." *

Bilbo nearly broke his rhythm when he saw the horrified expressions on the little ones’ faces sitting before him. It was the same reaction he'd gotten for the past sixty years and it still made him want to chuckle. He finished his tale, ending with how Gandalf had tricked the three trolls into arguing until sunrise, thus turning them into stone forever. Young eight-year old Myrtle Burrows let out a gasp, her brown eyes widening while her younger brother, five-year old Minto, sat with his mouth hanging wide open, a dumbfounded expression on his round face.

Bilbo felt a thrill of excitement rush through him, making his heart beat faster. In only a few hours time, he would be well on his way to seeing those three trolls again as he set off at last on his long-awaited journey.

The story of the three trolls was his most favorite part of his Adventure to tell and through the years, it seemed to be one of the tales that the hobbit children liked best. The excitement he had felt just moments ago quickly faded as Bilbo realized that this was the very last time he would be sharing the telling of his adventure to the hobbit children of the Shire. After the children thanked him and gave him hugs, he watched them scamper off in the direction of the food tables set up yonder. Sadly, there was not one full-blooded Baggins to be held amongst them. Frodo had held that position for a long-time running and he had reached his Coming of Age today. As it were, only Frodo and his cousin, Porto Baggins, would be the only two males able to pass on the dwindling family name in its original, un-hyphenated version.

“After tonight, there will always be a Baggins living under the Hill at Bag End,” Bilbo whispered to himself in reassurance.

He had seen Frodo hanging around earlier when he first began the tale of the three trolls. Even at his Coming of Age, his nephew couldn’t resist listening in for a short time. Bilbo smiled, knowing that if Frodo had not been whisked off by Merry and Pippin to join in the dancing he would have found a seat nearby, despite his having heard the story countless times before since he was a faunt.

For a fleeting second, Bilbo near regretted the choice he was making. In his mind he heard Gandalf’s words from earlier that afternoon, " … he’s very fond of you.”

“And I of him,” Bilbo whispered. Frodo was the one thing he would miss most about the Shire--the one hobbit who had the unknowing capability of keeping Bilbo here forever if he would only ask. Frodo would never ask his uncle to stay though; he saw just how much Bilbo longed to see the Outside World again and the lad could deny his uncle nothing. The old hobbit had given him so much by adopting him and had had to give up certain things in return. No, Bilbo knew that Frodo would never ask him to give up his dream of adventuring again--Frodo would only wish to join him, but Bilbo knew the lad better than he thought and would not ask him to join him. Frodo was still too much in love with the Shire to comfortably leave it yet to go with him. Maybe someday ….

“Stop it! Frodo will be alright, for goodness sake!” Bilbo told himself firmly. He couldn't help but worry over the lad and he hadn't even left yet. If Bell Gamgee were here, she'd laugh and tell him that worrying was the mark of a true parent, however one came to be so.

Bilbo scanned the throng of hobbits and saw Merry directing where the extra-large birthday cake should go before fetching young Pippin away from his fiddle-playing with the band. Hmm, now what were those two up to? And where is Frodo? He is almost always on the tail of their antics, reprimanding them … or sometimes helping them.

The two wayward first cousins were lost in the crowd as the dancing resumed and Bilbo’s attention was caught by a new sight. Shy, quiet Samwise Gamgee was dancing with the apple of his eye, Miss Rose Cotton. Bilbo observed the young couple dance--Sam’s initial awkward movements becoming more graceful and sure as he twirled his lass around and around. Rosie positively beamed with joy.

Those two will make a fine married couple someday soon, provided Samwise garners the courage to ask for her hand, Bilbo thought. Frodo will take good care of them ... as they will of him, I'm sure.

Ah, there he was! Bilbo spotted Frodo sitting at one of the tables taking a break from dancing with his cousins and friends. He was rosy-cheeked and laughing, chatting merrily with the Gaffer as the old gardener sat down beside him with pipe and ale in hand.

“Must have put poor Samwise into his current predicament,” Bilbo muttered, shaking his head at the seemingly endless spirit the lad possessed. Frodo had come a long way since he was orphaned over twenty years ago and Bilbo felt a touch of pride that he had had a hand in helping to raise who he considered to be the finest hobbit in the whole Four Farthings of the Shire.

Bilbo sighed, his fingers running absently around the magic, gold ring in his pocket. His wanderlust had grown too strong and he could no longer stay here and Frodo could not follow. Not right now anyway ... maybe someday in the far future.

He wondered if he would ever meet the lass who would catch Frodo’s eye, or the many children they would have together. No, he knew he wouldn’t unless he returned to the Shire (which he fully doubted he ever would). He wanted Frodo to have that life denied him more than anything else in all of Middle-earth. He wanted Frodo to be happy and not want for anything.

Frodo looked up at that exact moment and Bilbo caught his nephew’s eye, smiling wistfully in return. It would be up to Frodo now to continue the important task of telling the tales.

~The End~

*Direct quotes from Peter Jackson's film, 'Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring' (Extended Edition)