Chapter 15: A Gleam of Good Hope

First Yule, S.R. 1311

Bilbo wakened, heart pounding, from dark dreams of wandering through strange black tunnels, knowing something horrid and fearsome was pursuing him. A sound of hissing at his heels had brought him to a pitch of terror. He sat up and breathed hard. He'd been so tired when he finally went to bed the night before, it was no wonder he had bad dreams.

He wondered how his parents were. Good as her word, Miss Sage had been staying with them, spelling him, for the last few days. Mistress Rose had been dug out, only for the hobbits who freed her to discover that she was also down with the catarrh, though fortunately not a serious case; still she had sent word for her apprentice to stay put. And some of the goodwives from the village had come by for a couple of hours at a time to give both of them rest-- Aunt Robinia Bunce (though she was only a courtesy aunt and not kin) had been twice, Cousin Lily had been once, and so had Mrs. Twofoot. And the day before, even Cousin Ruby had been there briefly. She'd looked dreadful, not like she should be out and about at all in this horrid winter, but she had come anyway. Somehow she seemed to feel it was her fault that his parents were ill, perhaps because they probably had caught the catarrh from Dora and Drogo. She did not stay long-- Miss Sage made her go away again.

He got up and washed quickly in the icy water in his basin, and dressed, and padded across the passage to check on his parents.

Miss Sage welcomed him in, and he saw that they were both still sleeping. Tears filled his eyes as he saw how pale and thin their faces were.

"Go and have some breakfast, Bilbo. Blossom Twofoot came by earlier with a pan of scones; they may still be warm-- she left the pan by the kitchen hearth. After you eat, you can spell me for a while."

Bilbo found the scones were, indeed, still warm. He made himself a cup of tea, and decided it would not be too greedy to eat two of them. He was regretfully finishing up the second one when there came a sudden knocking at the front door. Who'd be here this early? he wondered. Perhaps one of his mother's friends had managed to come to help out.

It sounded like several someones on the front step, he thought. He pulled open the door and gave an exclamation of joyful surprise. "Uncle 'Gar! Uncle Isumbras!" He fell into his Uncle Isengar's embrace, "Oh, Uncle 'Gar!" He drew back to see that his Aunt Citrine, Uncle 'Gar's wife, standing behind him, and beyond that a couple of hobbits that looked only vaguely familiar. Then he gazed in astonishment at the sight of many other hobbits in the lane, mounted on ponies whose breath steamed in the frosty air.  Was that Chop's bright sorrel pony? If he was here why had he not come to the door?  But he could not be sure, the hobbits were so bundled up. There was also a sledge in the lane as well, pulled up right by the gate.

"I'm sorry! Come in out of the cold!" He stood back, and then his face flushed with embarassment. "I could make some tea, but I don't have enough scones to go around..." It was a dreadful breach of the hospitality his parents had always taught him, and he was sure they would be mortified if they knew.

Uncle Isumbras shook his head. "Don't worry about that Bilbo-lad! We've brought some food and things with us. Your Aunt Citrine has some special medicine, too, which may help your parents. Why don't you take her back there now? Then come back, for Isengar and I need to talk to you." Aunt Citrine was a healer in her own right, and Bilbo felt more relieved than he could say to have her there.

He entered his parents' room with Aunt Citrine on his heels. Miss Sage looked up in surprise at seeing a strange hobbitess there, but at the sight of Citrine's pendulum, she stood up.

"Miss Sage, this is my Aunt Citrine Took, wife to my Uncle Isengar. She's a healer and she brought some special medicine with her."

He left the two healers alone, and went back to find out what his uncles wanted to tell him.

When he followed them into the front parlour, Uncle Isengar closed the door. Uncle Isumbras gestured for him to sit, and then both of them sat down across from him on the settee. Uncle Isumbras leaned forward.

"Bilbo, I have some sad news for you..."

Bilbo felt his heart drop to his toes, and he held his breath.

"Your Grandmother Adamanta also had been ill of the catarrh and the lung sickness--" Uncle Isumbras stopped for a moment and took a deep breath of his own. "I am sorry, Bilbo, but she is gone." He stopped speaking and closed his eyes; he was very white.

Bilbo's jaw dropped, and he felt dizzy. Suddenly Uncle 'Gar was kneeling next to him, his hand on Bilbo's back.  "We've other news, too lad, and not all of it bad."

Bilbo licked dry lips and looked up. For the life of him he could not speak, but he met his uncle's eyes.

"Gandalf came a few days ago. It was too late for mother, but he brought Elvish medicine with him-- that's what your Aunt Citrine has with her, is some of that. It has helped many of those at the Great Smials who were still stricken. But we brought some of it here for your parents, and perhaps there is even enough for other hobbits here in Hobbiton who are still sick."

Bilbo felt a flicker of hope; Elvish medicine! And brought by Gandalf! Surely his own parents would be well in no time. But then he felt saddened about Grandmother Adamanta. "How-- how is Grandfather?"

"He took it very hard, lad. But Gandalf has helped."

Bilbo nodded.

"That is not all, though." Isumbras looked less sad now, but very determined. "We also got news from Buckland; the Brandywine River has frozen over. At least one large pack of white wolves has crossed over it into the Shire. That is why we have so many hobbits with us. With the Thain so sunk in grief, Isengrim has had to call the Shire muster. In this weather that means only the Tookish archers, for we've not been able to get the word out, and of them, only those who were well enough to ride with us could respond. Of forty, eight are still sick, and three have close family who are still very ill. We will see what able-bodied hobbits can join us as we ride, but Isengar and I will be heading out first thing in the morning with them. Your Aunt Citrine will stay here, of course, and help you take care of your parents."

Isengar saw the growing alarm on Bilbo's face. "Once we've dealt with the wolves, we will be back, lad."

"Where-- where are they?"

"Orgulas Brandybuck was one of those who brought us word. He said that the pack they know of crossed between the Bridge and Bucklebury. But where they went after that, we cannot say yet. We are turning East from here and hope to drive them back across the River North of the Bridge."

"Thank you for telling me about-- about everything." Bilbo felt tears welling up. Grief for his grandmother and fear for his uncles were mingled with relief and hope for his parents. "I'm sorry," he said.

Isumbras looked at him. "Come here, Bilbo." He held out his arms, drew the tween into a brief embrace, and kissed his forehead. "We Tooks stick together, lad. We'll see you safe and your parents as well."

"Yes,sir."

"Now, I think the others may have been busy in the kitchen. We brought some provender with us. Do you smell sausage?"

Indeed, he did! He could not help a smile. How long had it been since he had sausage?

After he had eaten his fill for the first time in weeks, his uncles insisted he go and rest again.

"We know you have had very little rest for a long time, Bilbo-lad," said Uncle 'Gar. "Don't worry; Citrine is with your parents, and Miss Sage is getting some rest as well."

Sated for a change, he slept far more soundly than he thought he would, right through until his aunt came to fetch him for luncheon. "Hello Bilbo," she said. "I scarcely had time to speak to you this morning. But I want to tell you how proud I am of how you took care of your mother and father-- Miss Sage told me of all you did for them before she was able to get here. I am impressed."

Bilbo flushed with pleased embarrassment. He shrugged. "It's Mama and Papa," he said simply.

"I know, lad." She grinned. "Would you like to eat with them?"

He nodded, and followed her back to his parents' room. To his surprise, both of them were sitting up against their pillows, and had a little colour in their faces. His mother was leaning against his father's arm. Her eyes were red, for clearly she had been weeping. He supposed that Aunt Citrine had broken the news about Grandmother Adamanta. But oh! it was so good to see them awake and alert and not nearly so white as the pillows they leaned against!

He went over to his mother's side of the bed. "You look much better, Mama," he said. And then burst into tears. She pulled him close, and oh, how good it felt to feel her arms around him again, and his father's hand patting the back of his head.

But after the tears were dried and faces washed, Aunt Citrine and Uncle Isengar brought in the trays, and yes, it was soup again, but not the thin watery soup they'd been eating for weeks. No, this soup was thick with vegetables. He looked at his aunt and uncle in amazement, wondering how they'd pulled off such a miracle.

Aunt Citrine laughed at his expression. "They were dried vegetables, mostly, and some preserved in crocks."

Uncle 'Gar grinned. "Thank your great-great-grandfather, Thain Ferumbras II. Ever since the Long Winter, he saw to it that the storeholes of the Great Smials were kept full with seven years worth of provisions against the lean times. Of course the habit was kept up after him."

After a while they finished eating and sat for a while exchanging the news of all that had happened, both good and bad, since winter began. Bilbo was content to listen, curled up at the foot of his parents' bed, feeling safe for the first time in ages and ages, in spite of the sadness and the news of wolves.

Second Yule, S.R. 1312

The Year had turned. There had been no feasting, no gifts, this year. Having his parents on the road to recovery was gift enough for anyone, Bilbo thought. But after supper-- more of that very delicious soup, and ashcakes and some stewed dried fruit for afters-- Uncle Isengar had carried his mother, and Uncle Isumbras and Orgulas Brandybuck (who had been one of the hobbits that accompanied his uncles) escorted Bungo very carefully, they had all gone into the parlour. Miss Sage was with them, and Inigo Proudfoot (who was Orgulas' brother-in-law), and yes! Adalgrim as well--he had been with the muster, as he was an excellent archer. He had come up to the smials later in the day, though the rest of the mustered hobbits were staying at The Ivy Bush. Bilbo had never seen Chop looking so serious. His older cousin looked as though he too had been ill. But he'd smiled at Bilbo, and ruffled his curls.

Bungo asked Uncle 'Gar to go down to the wine cellar and fetch up a bottle of Old Winyards, and even Bilbo was allowed to have some. They toasted the Turning of the Year, and they sang the New Year in (though long before it properly was in at midnight, for his parents were still not well enough to stay up so late.)

He sat between them, and as they sang:

Come now, good hobbits, be of much cheer,
And let's raise a toast to the coming New Year~
May each day dawn bright and fair,
Free from want and free from care!
May the year be short on sorrow,
And long on joy with each new morrow!
May the Shire know peace and plenty,
That no larder may go empty!
And blessed be the earth we till,
That each belly may have its fill!
May the ties of family, too,
Be strengthened by hearts warm and true!
May each hobbit have a hand to hold,
And love for all, both young and old!
Let the halls with laughter ring,
As to the New Year we gladly sing!

He had held tightly to each one's hand and closed his eyes and wished with all his heart that the song would come true this year.

But now he had risen while it was still dark, that he might farewell his uncles and cousin. How brave they were to ride out to face wolves!

The little troupe of Tookish archers had been supplemented by a few hobbits from Hobbiton who had or could borrow, ponies. He saw Mag Twofoot and Hom Greenhand and his own cousin Herry Bolger among them. They did not know archery, but like all hobbits, they were skilled with stones and slings.

He embraced his Uncle Isumbras briefly and his Uncle 'Gar he let go of reluctantly, and only because Aunt Citrine wished to say good-bye as well, and he then turned to Chop, who gave him a fierce hug before going to mount his pony. "Stay safe, Chop!" he said as he watched him leave.

Bilbo waved forlornly as the line of riders passed down the lane. They went around the curve at the bottom of the Hill and out of sight, but just as he was about to turn and go back into Bag End, he heard hoofbeats coming, and he was amazed to see a tall horse and a rider cantering swiftly after the ones who had left. For an instant he was puzzled, and then with a little leap of his heart, he realised it had to be Gandalf! If Gandalf was going with them, then surely all would be right.

He went back inside, determined to go back to bed. He had a fierce headache. Perhaps it had been the wine-- he wasn't allowed it very often.  He'd feel better by breakfast time.