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Eleventy-one Years: Too Short a Time   by Dreamflower

Author's Notes: The first part of this chapter appeared in 2005 as a one-shot story for hobbit_ficathon, called "A Young Hobbit's Fancy".

In this story, Drogo is 22 (about the equivalent in maturity of a 14 ½ year-old Man), and Otho is 20, (or about 12 ½).

Chapter 39: Family Matters

14 Thrimidge, S.R. 1330

"Drogo?" There was a slightly sharp edge to the query that made Drogo realize his name had been called more than once.

"I'm sorry, Cousin Bilbo," the tweenager replied. "I'm afraid I was not paying very close attention." His gaze flicked once more to the sounds of laughter coming through Bilbo's study window.

"I asked you, Drogo, what major event took place in the year 1147?"

With a start the young hobbit came to himself, and after a brief struggle to get his mind on lessons once more, replied "That was the year Bandobras Took, also known as 'Bullroarer' drove the goblins out of the Shire?" Normally he would have sounded a bit more confident of himself, but his inattention had shaken him. He was usually very good at lessons, and Cousin Bilbo had told him more than once that he was his brightest pupil. This was embarrassing.

A gentle breeze billowed the gauzy curtains, bringing with it the smells of flowers and grass clippings, and more sounds of laughter.

Both hobbits now looked out the window. On the field below Bag End could be seen the figures of several lads engaged in a rowdy game of "Breakthrough". Two teams would form lines, holding hands firmly. One team would call on a member of the other team, who would then race forward, and try to break the hold between two team members. If he failed to break through, he remained on that team, however, if he did manage to do so, he returned to his own side, taking one of the losers with him. The game could get very fierce. Bilbo recalled the fun he'd had in his own youth playing that game with his cousins.

Drogo sighed. It was a Highday, and the working class lads all had the afternoon free. He was a gentlehobbit, however, and here he was, stuck doing lessons on a lovely spring afternoon.

Bilbo cast a sympathetic look at his young cousin. Drogo had missed a lesson earlier in the week, due to his grandmother's birthday, and so it had needed to be made up. But it was hard on a young lad to be cooped up inside on such a lovely spring day.

Fosco and Ruby counted on him to be teaching his cousin; still, when the mind was elsewhere it was hard to learn anything. He turned and looked out the window at the lads at play, and an idea came to him.

"Drogo?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I think that I should like you to write an essay for me as homework, on the benefits of fresh air and exercise. Now, in order to do that, do you not think it necessary that you have a bit of experience of them?" Bilbo's blue eyes twinkled, as he gestured out the window with his chin.

Drogo leaped up, and gave his older cousin a hug. "Cousin Bilbo! I think that a splendid idea! Thank you!"

"Well, then, be off with you, lad! It looks to me as though they are choosing up sides for another round!"

Bilbo watched his cousin race to the field and become just one more small figure in the game. This was far too nice a day to stay indoors. He might be too grown-up for the lads' games, but it would be a lovely time for a ramble.

He paused only briefly to don his jacket and tuck in a pocket handkerchief.

Bilbo's walk took him in the direction of Overhill, and he decided that a brief visit to Uncle Bingo and Aunt Chica was in order. It would be nice to see young Falco again. The lad had not been one of Bilbo's pupils for the past year; it had turned out to be too far for him to come to Bag End three times a week; so his parents had arranged for him to study instead with Chica's brother Cheldric.

His uncle lived in a low rambling dwelling that was as much house as it was hole; the front garden was taken over by his aunt's rosebushes and the scent of the blooms was heady. He went up the path, and tugged the bell-pull next to the red door. The door was opened by Uncle Bingo himself.

"Bilbo, what a surprise! Have you had luncheon yet? We were just about to sit down at the table!"

Bilbo quickly accepted the invitation (though he had purchased a sausage roll at the bakery when he passed through Hobbiton, that could scarcely be considered a proper meal!) which he had more or less anticipated when he had made the decision to drop in.

Bingo led Bilbo to the dining room, where he had been warmly greeted by his cousins-not only Falco, but the two younger children, Fatima and Folcard. As the younger ones gave Bilbo enthusiastic hugs, Falco went to sideboard and got another place setting for his older cousin.

Bilbo was glad to tuck into slices of roast lamb, freshly baked rolls, baby carrots glazed with butter and honey, and a crisp salad of rocket dressed with oil and vinegar. After complimenting his aunt on her cooking, he listened as his cousins regaled him with some of the recent family doings. Little Folcard had just lost a tooth, and Fatima was just beginning to learn her letters from big brother Falco. Bilbo filled them in on what was going on in Hobbiton, and some of the doings of the Tooks according to his mother's latest letter from her family.

"How about Rory?" Falco asked.

Bilbo smiled; during a visit several years ago, Rory and Falco had become good friends. "He wrote me that he's teaching his youngest sister Primula how to swim," Bilbo said, enjoyed Falco's wide eyes, and the scandalized expressions on his aunt's and uncle's faces. "But of course, that's only to be expected among Brandybucks."

There was a lull in the conversation as Aunt Chica brought out a custard tart for afters, and then Uncle Bingo said

"I received a letter from Longo yesterday."

Bilbo looked sharply at Bingo and almost dropped his fork. Longo's correspondence with the rest of the family was rare and never without purpose. "And what did he have to say?"

"He'll be moving back to Hobbiton this summer." Uncle Bingo glanced at the children, who had finished their pudding, and said, "Falco, Fatima and Folcard, you are excused. Why don't you go outside and play?"

Folcard started to object, but Falco realized his parents wanted to speak to Bilbo about "grown-up" matters. He took his little brother's hand and said "Come on, Folly! We'll go down to the pond and see if the ducklings have hatched yet!"

Once the youngsters were gone, Bingo sat back and sighed. "Bilbo, I am glad you came by today, for you've saved me a journey to Bag End. Longo's business interests lie, for the most part, in the Southfarthing. The only reason he'd be relocating to Hobbiton is to interfere with your mother's standing as Head of the Family."

"He must know that if he pressured my mother into handing over the Headship, I'd certainly never listen to his advice. Not, of course, that he could do such a thing. He complains about her Tookish heritage-but part of that heritage is stubbornness. She can remember only too well how he tried to drive a wedge between her and my father when they were courting."

"Still, ever since your father made Bag End the family seat instead of Greenbriars he's been angry. And I think he believes his family stands a chance at taking Bag End over eventually. After all, your mother's health is not as good as it could be; and you've not taken a wife yet, either."

"Uncle Bingo! I'm only forty!"

"A lot of hobbits are married and have children who are much younger than you are," his Aunt Chica put in. "You've shown little interest in the lasses since you came of age. I know being an only child has made you shy; perhaps I could make some introductions..."

The last thing Bilbo wanted was for his aunt to try matchmaking for him. He did not feel comfortable confiding the state of his heart, but he had to head this off. "Aunt Chica, I will not name any names, but there is a lass I have regard for. Sadly, she shows no signs of returning my regard or that of any other suitor. The time is not yet right. I can say no more."

Chica's expression grew sympathetic and she patted his arm. "I understand," she said, "but if I can help in any way, let me know.."

"On Highday the first of Summerfilth,"* he thought to himself. His aunt meant well, she really did, but the best intentions often go wildly awry. "Thank you for your concern, Aunt Chica."

"Well," said Uncle Bingo, "as you say, you are only forty. But be sure to talk this over with your mother. She needs to know what Longo is up to." Bingo had never fallen out with his brother, as Bungo had, but he recalled only too well how Longo had turned his back on the rest of the Bagginses when he had a chance of achieving wealth and status through the Sackvilles.

Bilbo started back to Bag End after luncheon. Overhill was further from Hobbiton than Bywater, and it was likely that he'd not be home until nearly suppertime. His mother was to have taken tea with Fosco and Ruby at Greenbriars, so he knew that she'd not be alone. It was somewhat late for tea when he approached the outskirts of the town, and he stopped at the bakery where he purchased a couple of scones to nibble as he finished the journey to the Hill.

He heard his mother in the kitchen, and went in to find her preparing supper. He smelled potatoes roasting, and ham and new peas. "It smells wonderful, Mama," he said, as he gave her a peck on the cheek. He could tell it was all nearly ready, so he turned to the sideboard and took out the plates to lay the table. "I had lunch with Uncle Bingo and Aunt Chica today. They send their love, as well as some news. Uncle Longo is moving back here."

Belladonna turned and nodded. "And I thought to be the one to tell you that news. Fosco told me that Longo had attempted to purchase Greenbriars from him. Fosco turned him down; the offer was insultingly low. He instead bought Ashcroft."

Bilbo gave a whistle. Ashcroft, which was a very fine hole, was located on the West side of Hobbiton, had been the home of Mr. Burrowes, the lawyer who was the Burrowes in the firm of Messrs. Grubb, Grubb and Burrowes. He had moved to Michel Delving, the better to oversee the filing of records with the Mayor's Office, and the luxurious hole had been empty for three years. It was smaller than both Bag End and Greenbriars, but it was at least as fine a residence as Greenbriars if not quite up to Bag End in terms of status.

"Why is he coming back?" asked Bilbo. "He's never shown much interest in even so much as visiting unless he had to do so."

"According to Fosco, his brother has bought a half-interest in Turpin Sandyman's mill," said Belladonna as she began to place food on the table. "and Lotho feels his presence here is needed as certain changes are made."

Bilbo made a face. The mill had been in the Sandyman family for generations, but it was scarcely turning a profit, mostly due to the fact that Turpin had brought in his cousins to work there. Unfortunately, the cousins were lazy and incompetent; but because they were kin, Sandyman did not need to pay them much. Those savings were offset by the fact that he had more employees than he needed. Bungo had once offered to invest in the mill, and was turned down when he had insisted that Turpin replace his cousins with more efficient workers.

"It might even be worth having Uncle Longo around if he can get the mill to operate more efficiently," he said, as they sat down to eat. He helped himself to a goodly slice of ham.

"Fosco also said that Longo has decided that it is time Otho learns more about the Baggins side of the family. The lad's twenty-two now, and he proposes to send him to the Family Tutor."

Bilbo nearly choked. He took a sip of his tea. "Otho? He wants me to teach Otho?" While it had been some years since Bilbo had seen the young Sackville-Baggins, he had been spoiled and sullen then, and unlikely to be a good scholar. He sighed. "Well, the lad is a Baggins. I suppose I'll have to give it a try; perhaps he's outgrown some of his behaviour."

The doubtful look his mother gave him was not encouraging.

x0x0x0x

*According to Appendix D, "Highday" (Friday) never falls on the first of the month in the Shire calendar; and there is no such month as Summerfilth. So this is basically the Shire equivalent of "when pigs fly".    





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