(A/N: The first part of this chapter is referencing my story "The Knight Has Been Unruly".  At 21, Bilbo's age is about the equivalent of a human adolescent of between 13 to 14)

Chapter 6: Consequences

 
2 Lithe, S.R. 1311

"Well, lads," said Adalgrim, poking his head into Siggy's room, where Bilbo and Siggy were sitting morosely.  "I've come to say farewell."

"I know," said Siggy glumly. "Uncle Bungo says they will be leaving after elevenses, and he is very angry with Bilbo."

"Oh fuddlebuckets!" Chop flushed.  "I'm sorry Bilbo!  I didn't know you were leaving today!  It's all my fault!"

Bilbo refrained from agreeing with his older cousin.  It had been Chop's idea to pilfer some of Gandalf's fireworks during the celebrations the night before.  They'd been caught, and not only had Gandalf been angry with with them, but so had the Old Took and their parents.  Instead he said, "If you did not know I was leaving, why did you come to tell me good-bye?"

"Because I am leaving.  Grandfather says I am a bad influence on you younger ones, that now I am of age and too old for such tweenish japes.  He told me I was endangering you two as well as little Rory and Faro by involving all of you." He sighed.  "I had no idea, until Gandalf explained it, that his fireworks could be so dangerous. Anyway, I am being sent away from the Great Smials.  There's a farm at Whitwell, and I am to move there and take it up.  I can't even come back to visit here until Yule."

Bilbo and Siggy looked up in shock. "Oh, Chop!" Bilbo exclaimed, "How could he do that?"

"Easily enough, Bilbo. He is the Old Took, after all, as well as the Thain. He says I need to learn how to behave like an adult since I now am one, and I guess I agree with him. I should not have put you lads in trouble-- and I really should not have brought Rory and Faro into it. Gandalf said people have been blinded or badly injured from not using fireworks properly." He sighed. "And I am sorry your visit was cut short, Bilbo."

Bilbo and Siggy ran to embrace their older cousin, whom they had always admired for his adventurous streak and his grand ideas. He ruffled their heads and said, "You won't recognise me when next you see me! I will be so staid and proper!"

"Will you write to us, Chop?" Bilbo asked.

He chuckled. "Only if you write to me," he said. "Good-bye, lads! Don't have too much fun without me!"

He turned and left. The younger lads watched after him. "Not much chance of that," Siggy muttered. Bilbo nodded morosely.

The ride back to Hobbiton was silent. Bilbo felt his disgrace keenly; his father was both angry and disappointed with him, and his even his mother was unhappy, though she tended to blame Adalgrim instead of Bilbo. As for Bilbo, he had a feeling that he would not be having much fun. He was now cut off from his two favorite Took cousins, and most of his Baggins cousins were too young or too old. As for the other lads in the village, most of the ones who were his age were working lads, already doing jobs for their parents or apprenticed to learn the skills they would need to make a living.

The family took their tea at The Ivy Bush when they arrived back at Hobbiton, and then went back up to Bag End.  Bungo called Bilbo into his study.

"Have a seat, son," his father said.

Bilbo sat down heavily, and studied his toes.

"Tooks can be rather overwhelming, can they not?" Bungo's tone was lighter than Bilbo had expected.

"What do you mean, Papa?"

"It is very easy when among them to be either intimidated or carried along with their ideas in a flood of enthusiasm.  I tend to the first reaction, and I had to learn to stand up to your mother's kin when necessary.  It took me a long while to do so.  You are half-Took yourself, and so you tend to the latter reaction.  I think that what you need is a responsibility, something to steady you, something that will help you learn to make decisions on your own. I have just the job for you."

"Job?" Bilbo blinked.  He was only twenty-one!

"Yes. As you know, Greenbriars is standing empty."

Bilbo nodded.  Uncle Bingo had finally persuaded Grandmother Laura to move to Overhill and live with him and his wife Chica and their little son Falco last spring.  The original Baggins ancestral hole was now uninhabited.

"I have given permission to your cousin Fosco and his family to move there.  Fosco and Ruby are increasing their family once more-- there will be another babe sometime shortly before the turn of the year.  Dora is nine now and little Drogo has become a faunt.  They need a larger home."

Bilbo brightened up at this news.  He was fond of his little cousins, though he did not see them often, as they had been living in the Southfarthing near their Hornblower kin.  But he wondered what it had to do with him, and it showed on the face he turned to his father.

"The smial needs turning out, Bilbo."  He chuckled at the expression of horror on his son's face.  "No, lad, I do not expect you to do all of it yourself.  I have engaged the Twofoots to do the actual work of cleaning.  But they will need help and supervision.  There are still many things there that need to be disposed of--either sent on to your grandmother, or given away as mathoms, or saved for Cousin Fosco's family.  You will be in charge.  Mind you, I expect you to lend a hand or a strong back if it is needed, as well, and not to balk at a little dusting.  And if there are things you believe to be especially valuable or of which you are unsure, I will be glad to give you advice. But the decisions will be yours."

Bilbo stared at his father in shock.

"You will meet Mag Twofoot there after second breakfast tomorrow, and go through the hole with him to decide what's to be done." Magpie Twofoot was the eldest of the Twofoot sons. His sisters Posey and Blossom and his brother Jackdaw often hired out to do such work.

" I expect you to spend at least half a day every day except Highday on this task until it is complete.  You will still be coming to me for your lessons every other day between tea and supper.  And as your cousins propose to move in the first week in Halimath, you must have it all done by then."

Bilbo just blinked. He did not know what to say. He expected it would be a long summer until Halimath.

Drogo smiled.  "Good night, son."

"Good night, Papa," Bilbo said hoarsely.  He got up and went silently to his room.  For a long time he lay awake, wondering why his father had given him such a big responsibility when he had just done something so irresponsible.

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" 'Morning, Master Bilbo," Magpie gave a bob of his head and Posey, who had accompanied him, gave a little half-curtsy.  Bilbo blushed.  Those were the sorts of things that working hobbits did around his father. It felt very odd for them to be doing them around him.

"Good morning, Mag! and Posey!" He blushed again. Mag was almost of age, but Posey was only a few years older than Bilbo, and very comely.  Bilbo was unused to speaking to lasses unless they were cousins.  He took out the key to the smial that his father had handed him that morning.  Hobbits did not lock their holes for the most part (except, he thought, in Buckland) but an empty smial was a different matter altogether.  For one thing, it was a temptation to tweens.

The round blue door opened with a creak.  Mag cocked his head.  "That there door could use a bit o' oiling 'round the hinges," he said.

Bilbo took out his stylus and a little notepad.  "1. Oil hinges," he jotted down.  He had decided to be very organised about all of this.  He wanted to be sure his father's trust was not misplaced.

The front hall was empty, and the hole smelled musty.  Bilbo remembered how cluttered it had been. Their feet left prints on the dusty flagstone floor.  "2. Clean floor," he wrote.  Posey turned and opened one the windows wide to let in some air, but there wasn't much of a breeze. It was a very hot and sticky summer.  "3. Air out hole."

They glanced into the parlour on their left.  There was still furniture in there, now covered with dustcloths.  "4. Does Cousin Fosco want any of the furniture?"

They went from room to room, Mag's expert eyes spotting any needed repairs, and Posey noticing things that might need to be cleaned or replaced.  Bilbo dutifully wrote down all of their suggestions, even when he was not sure he understood what they were.  The mathom rooms made him sad. They were filled with many of Grandfather Mungo's clothes, and not a few of Grandmother Laura's.  And there, in one room, was a box filled with many of the games Uncle Bingo had thought up: game boards and counters and dice and other fun things. What should be done with all of these things? "12. Who can use grandfather's clothes?"

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"Bungo, don't you think that is a dreadfully large responsibility for a lad of Bilbo's age; why he is scarcely out of his childhood!"

Bungo nodded. "It is, my dear; but never fear, I will not allow him to flounder without guidance. I will help him, and Mag knows that I expect him to help Bilbo as well. He needs to learn to think for himself and make decisions. You know as well as I do that he is far too easily led by his friends."

"Especially his Tookish friends, you mean to say," Belladonna said ruefully. "A little mischief is expected of tweens. But medding with Gandalf's fireworks was dangerous! Oh, Bungo! He could have been badly hurt! I cannot believe Chop was so reckless with the younger lads!"

"I believe it, my love. And that is precisely why I want Bilbo to do this, so that the next time Chop suggests something daft like stealing Gandalf's fireworks or Siggy decides that pummeling one another's teeth out is a good way to earn money, he will have the wisdom and the backbone to say 'no'."

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Bilbo and the Twofoots came to the back door. He finished writing "23. Paint kitchen, 24. Have chimneys cleaned."

"Is there anything else, Mag?" he asked.

Mag smiled.  "No, Master Bilbo, I think that will do to go on with.  We'll see you tomorrow, and I'll bring Blossom and Jackdaw along."

Bilbo nodded, and watched them leave.  Then he sighed and looked at his list.  Suddenly it seemed that the time to Halimath was very short.

( A/N: I would like to thank Thranduil Oropherion Redux for the wonderful word "Fuddlebuckets", which he says originated with Niriel Raina. Thanks to you both.)