Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Tolkienist against Mary -Sue ❯ Concerning Hobbits and Lost Big Folk Girls ( Chapter 4 )

TOLKIENIST AGAINST MARY-SUE

 

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Morgan and Vicky.

 

Notes: I have just lost all my precious information about the differences between the film and the books of the Lord of the Rings due to a nasty virus in my main computer.

 

Please, be gentle to email me any errors I have done, thank you.

 

 

Chap 4:Concerning HobbitsandLost Big Folk Girls.

 

 

Slowly, Morgan wrote in her notebook. Since her arrival in this new world, she had begun a diary in order to have a trace of her fantastic adventure. The young black-haired girl still didn't know if she was in the long time passed past of her own world or in another dimension. In either case, there was nothing she could do for now except adapt and learn.

 

It had been now almost two months that the wizard Gandalf had left her in the care of Bilbo Baggins and her progress in Westron, the common tongue of this world, was enough to properly write, at least at the level of a beginner student.

 

And so, she was leaning on a desk, using a feather to write, in the smial of Bag End, in the hill of Bagshot Row, in the town of Hobbiton, in the Westfarthing of the Shire and in Middle-Earth. She was writing in Westron because she felt it was required that her diary should be written in this tongue now that she could make her understood in this tongue.

 

She had changed a little from the lost English girl clad in her school uniform. Numerous and consequents amount of food had put a little meat on her bones and the generosity of her host had clothed her in a simple dark green dress with loose sleeves and a white sash. The wealth of Bilbo had also provided her with “everything a lady like you should have” as he said. She had tried to refuse, but Bilbo had used at his advantage her non-mastery of the Westron and she had been obliged to accept the gifts.

 

She smiled as she looked around her. At her arrival, the interior of the smial had been a real mess. Since only Bilbo and his nephew Frodo lived in the house, organization wasn't a priority. She had stubbornly taken on herself to put a little order in this chaos, despite the protestations of Bilbo. And now, the interior was properly set, with the little touch of a woman here and there, mainly in the form of better light from the windows and a few flowers.

 

Morgan was especially proud to have helped to arrange and classify the library of the old Hobbit. Although her vocabulary wasn't up to some texts, she was now reading all she could find and understand. Upon her impulsion, she had also asked and received a few lessons in Elvish. There had been only one incident when Bilbo lost his calm and almost screamed at her because he couldn't find something.

 

This incident had also been the day she felt her worst headache since her arrival in Middle-Earth. She had suffered mild headaches the first time she met someone that was close to Bilbo or Frodo, but this time, she fell on one knee because of the pain when the old hobbit suddenly calmed himself and said he had found what he searched on his own pocket.

 

She never found what was hidden in his pocket, and in fact, she never tried to pry into the privacy of her host. It had been a mystery that was resolved by Frodo when he spoke about the old magical ring that his uncle used during his adventure with Gollum.

 

Among the collection of Bilbo, there was only one book she didn't open because it was unfinished: It was the book that Bilbo was writing about his travels and adventures in the Lonely Mountain and his encounter with the last dragon Smaug. She remembered the half-understood conversation between Gandalf and Frodo two months ago about a dragon. She had laughed herself to tears when the old hobbit had told her what exactly Gandalf meant by “a little nudge out of the door”. The title always drew a smile from her: “There and Back Again: A Hobbit's Tale.”

 

She didn't read it, but she sure heard it. The story was a favourite of almost all the young hobbits and Bilbo always loved to spread his tale. In fact, Morgan also loved the way Bilbo entertained his listeners with his adventures.

 

Tales were also the method she had used to finally break the reserve that all the hobbits had for her when she had enough vocabulary to share the tales of her childhood. In the beginning, the fact that she was human and incapable to communicate had proved to be big obstacles. It was only she had always persevered that she managed to establish a friendly rapport with the community.

 

In fact, it didn't take long for her to fall in love with the Shire and its inhabitants. Hobbits were primarily farmers and had lived in the four Farthings of the country for many centuries. The average hobbit was quite content to ignore and be ignored by what they called the world of the Big Folk. It was the main reason she was perceived, at first, as a perturbing element.

 

There was a certain isolationism in the Halfling culture because to their eyes, Middle-Earth was so full of strange creatures that Hobbits must seem of little importance since they weren't warriors or wises.

 

Of course, some elements of the Hobbit society were always suspicious of the black-eyed girl, especially since she seemed to be from a country they never heard about. The worse were the Sackville-Bagginses that simply accused her to be after the wealth of Bilbo: Wealth that was naturally only for them alone.

 

After the first incident, she had demonstrated how sharp her wits could be by showing an icy politeness more insulting than any complex sentences she could have used with her limited vocabulary.

 

With time she had verified that the stereotype of the Hobbit's passion for food, ales and pipe-weed was very, very real. Not that she was opposed to a good meal, a fresh mug of ale and the sweet scent of pipe-smoke, but six meals a day… It was sometimes a little too much for a girl who watched her weight and take care of her health.

 

Once again, she gazed through the window and smiled at the activities of the hobbits who truly loved peace and quiet and good, tilled earth. In fact, she shared with them their love of things that grow. There was nothing more gratifying than eating the very things you grew yourself. Yes, for the city girl, it was no bad thing to celebrate a simple life far away from the so-called modern world.

 

She had feared that she would feel alone and homesick since the departure of Gandalf, but friendship had lighted and protected her heart from the darkness of despair. Her love of books and knowledge had enabled her to strike a deep friendship with Bilbo and Frodo. She had met and befriended Samwise Gamgee over the products and care of the garden since she refused to be a freeloader.

 

However, her friendship with Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck began in the strangest way: By a prank.

 

She was doing her morning chores with Sam and entered Bag End for refreshing herself when she found herself douched by cold water. The two pranksters laugh was short when they remarked that they didn't nail Frodo like they wanted, but a now wet, tall, for them, girl with long black hair and furious black eyes.

 

This day, the population of Hobbiton had been the witness that Merry and Pippin could run very fast, especially when they are pursued by an angered Big Folk girl who was using a previously unknown ability to utter curses and yell dire promises of painful retribution to the two young hobbits.

 

It was only after a thorough dunking in a cold shallow river and a conversation under blankets and with a nice cup of tea in front of the fireplace of Bag End that the three persons became unlikely friends.

 

Oh, Morgan didn't join them in their pranks, but the two very active hobbits showed her the Shire in its entire wilderness and taught her a few things that a proper Lady shouldn't know.

 

And so, Morgan Uther Pendragon lived and learned with Bilbo and Frodo Baggins.

 

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As the final day for the Party approached, Bilbo asked a big favour from Morgan. She eagerly accepted because she didn't consider guarding the poor Bilbo from enthusiastic well-wishers a chore.

 

So Morgan was dutifully sitting near the gate of Bag End, reading a book, when she heard the sound of a horse's hooves on the dirt path nearby. She beamed when she recognized the cart of Gandalf the Grey.

 

The old wizard dismounted and went directly to her. He spoke in Westron without the use of his power to make her understand and with a tinge of humour in his deep voice. “Good day to you, Lady Morgan.”

 

The teenager stood up and curtsied back. “And a good day to you, Master Wizard.”

 

He chuckled. “Good, good. I can see that those two months hadn't been lost.” Indeed, to his wise eyes, hardly lost. He had left a confused and worried young girl and returned to find a strong young woman sure of herself and looked more like a Lady of the West than a complete stranger. The power she had sensed in her seemed to vibrate more than before.

 

She raised an eyebrow, but her smile betrayed her sheer pleasure as she demonstrated her mastery of Westron. “With Bilbo Baggins as a teacher? Shame on you, Gandalf. I couldn't have dream of anyone better.”

 

The wizard smiled and made his way up to the front door and knocked on the painted surface with his staff. He had now plenty of time for resolving the enigma that was Morgan Uther Pendragon of London, England. In fact, he had already prepared a schedule for her after the Party of Bilbo.

 

Morgan giggled when she heard Bilbo's exasperation from inside. He refused to open the door unless his visitor was important and again, not always. “Confound it all, Morgan, I thought I asked you to keep them away!”

 

Morgan controlled barely her laugh. “Well, this one is a bit difficult. I doubt that a young girl could frighten him away.”

 

“Well, tell him we don't want anymore well-wishers, gift-givers, Party-helpers, or distant relations today!”

 

Gandalf had a strange impression of déja vu at this particular sentence. He shook his head and his booming voice sounded. “I am none of those, Bilbo Baggins, so you had better open this door, and quickly!”

 

Bilbo bustled quickly from behind the door. “Gandalf!”

 

The wizard knelt before Bilbo and embraced him like a father holding his infant son. “Dear old Bilbo.”

 

Bilbo stepped away first with suspicious shining eyes. “Gandalf, how good to see you! It's been far too long, we haven't had a chance to really talk… you only stayed for a short time on your last visit… do come in, come in!”

 

Morgan let the two friends entered the smial. She decided against imposing her presence. Something was telling her that they needed to speak to each other alone. She stopped before returning to her vigil. “This is it!”

 

She didn't have any hint about what was going to happen, but something whispered to her that it was beginning now. She groaned as she massaged her temples: Another massive headache.

 

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As the evening came, Morgan had entered Bag End with Frodo in order to get ready for the Party. Meanwhile, Gandalf and Bilbo were outside, smoking a last pipe together.

 

Morgan smiled as she gazed on the dress that Bilbo had made for her. It was built on the same model as a festive Hobbit dress but was coloured in a diaphanous light grey that highlighted her pale skin and her black hair and eyes. She took a pair of sandals to complete it as jewellery seemed unimportant. In her mirror, she admired her silhouette: She really looked like a Lady, the only false note was perhaps her glasses, but after trying to leave them for the party, she concluded that her nearsightness was too much of a handicap for the little amelioration to her image.

 

The young girl hid a giggle as she exited the house and observed Bilbo and Gandalf sitting outside Bag End together and smoking. It was a bittersweet memory of her late father: She remembered sitting in his lap as he smoked the pipe and reading a book while the sweet smoke surrounded her. She quickly banished the memory before it brought back also the image of her mother.

 

Bilbo smiled as he put away a small leather bag. “Old Toby. The finest weed in the Southfarthing.” The Old hobbit blew then a perfect smoke ring which floated away in the night air. Gandalf chuckled and the under the awed gaze of Morgan blew a ship of smoke through the smoke ring.

 

The English girl shook her head. “Incredible…”

 

The two friends turned and smiled to her. Bilbo nodded admirably at the beautiful young teenager in the grey dress. “Go along, my dear. No reason for you to wait for two old fools like us. Come on! Come on! Go and be merry!”

 

Gandalf nodded. “Do not wait for us, Lady Morgan. We'll just finish this and be right behind you. And may I say that you like radiant tonight.”

 

Morgan blushed and rushed to the Party to hide her embarrassment under the gentle chuckles of her host and the Wizard.

 

Bilbo sighed as he watched his guest trotting to the feast. “I'm going to miss her presence. But it is better for her to seek other teachers than an old geezer like me. She's a rare and precious pearl and other scholars must simply meet her.” His gaze became mischievous. “Gandalf, my old friend. This will be a night to remember.”

 

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This night, Morgan discovered why Gandalf was so renowned for his fireworks. The use of Magic, at least she thought it was magic, made her fireworks the best she had ever seen. Even modern technology couldn't beat what he made his rockets do.

 

A firework went off and a majestic green tree was drawn in the sky, sparks rained on the entire party. Under the festive lamps, music sounded, everyone cheered and Hobbits danced.

 

Yes, Hobbits were dancing although many others were decimating the gigantic amount of food and drink on the tables. A giant cake with 144 candles was slowly making its way among the merry people. 144, because Bilbo was celebrating his 111 anniversary and Frodo his 33 anniversary: Both were important celebrations among the Hobbits.

 

Frodo was dancing with Morgan among the laughing and teasing, especially since Morgan was much taller than the young hobbit, but the two friends merely laughed along with the partiers. Near the dance circle, Samwise Gamgee was stealing gazes to the young Rosie, a beautiful hobbit with curly blonde hair in a blue dress. The shy hobbit didn't dare to do anything else.

 

Bilbo was, of course, playing his role of host and main feature of the party and was shaking hands with some guests. “Hello, hello. Fatty Bolger. Lovely to see you. Welcome, welcome!”

 

Still laughing, Frodo and Morgan sat near Sam in order to rest a little before the next dance.

 

Frodo smiled to the redheaded Hobbit. “Go on, Sam, ask Rosie for a dance!”

 

Morgan nodded approvingly. “Yes! Ask her! Look, she's dancing alone!”

 

Sam hesitated and began to rise. “I think I'll just have another ale.”

 

Frodo and Morgan exchanged a look and seized their friend together. “Oh, no you don't!” Under their pushing, the poor Sam was sent towards Rosie who seized his hands. “Go on!”

 

As the couple danced, Frodo and Morgan laughed, happy for Sam and Rosie.

 

Using his staff, Gandalf let off another rocket which exploded into a bright blue firework that opened out over the entire party site.

 

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Bilbo was sitting on a low bench and telling a group of young Hobbit children a story that happened during his adventures with the Dwarves and Gandalf. “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, squash us, to jelly.”

 

His attentive listeners gasped at the predicament. Nearby, Gandalf had taken a pause and was dancing with Morgan, probably the only other person that could dance almost normally with him. It was amusing to see that Morgan was smaller than the Grey Wizard like her and Frodo lately.

 

Bilbo continued his story. “And they spent so much time arguing, the whitertos and the whyfors that the sun's first light crept over the top of the trees -poof-” The Hobbit kids gasped again. “And turned them all to stone!”

 

Smiling and laughing, Gandalf took out some of his fireworks from his cart near a tent. As he leaved, Merry and Pippin came out from behind the tent.

 

Pippin turned to Merry and whispered. “Quickly!”

 

Merry gave Pippin a leg up onto the cart and turned to survey what Gandalf was doing. The old wizard was letting off some butterfly fireworks for the young Hobbit children. “Oh! Up they go!” He laughed: Those smiles and happiness were the reason why he was doing all this.

 

Pippin took out a rocket and showed it to Merry. Merry shook his head and pointed to another. “No, no, the big one, big one.”

 

Pippin nodded and took out a red dragon shaped one. Merry looked at it in mischievous wonder, as Pippin jumped off the wagon, and into a surrounding tent. Merry bit into an apple then followed him.

 

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Bilbo was saluting a brown-haired woman with a little girl in her arms. “Mrs. Bracegirdle, how nice to see you. Welcome, welcome.” Bilbo blinked as a veritable army of Hobbits children passed around him. “Are all these children yours?” The matron nodded. “Good gracious, you have been productive. The woman rolled her eyes, nodded and followed her children.

 

The ear of Bilbo twitched as an unwelcome feminine voice reached him. “Bilbo?” He whirled in fright and butted in with Morgan and Frodo that were coming to see him. He hissed to them in dread. “Sackville-Bagginses!”

 

Frodo frowned and began to push his uncle among the tables and tents. “Quickly, hide!”

 

The couple of old grumpy Hobbits cut and pushed among the crowd, searching for their prey. Morgan lost all her smile and used her height and some nearby tent to hide Frodo and Bilbo. She waited for the Sackville-Bagginses to come near her before opening fire.

 

“Mr. and Mrs. Baggins. Good evening. I trust that you…appreciate the party of Bilbo.” Said with an exquisite but icy politeness, the words were as edged as a sword.

 

Mrs. Baggins showed her teeth as if she had swallowed three dozens of citrus and her husband sported a big scowl. However, to Morgan they were as scary as cockroaches and her black eyes seemed to drill into their cores.

 

Mr. Baggins attempted to redirect the… discussion. “Have you seen Bilbo anywhere?” He tried to regain his countenance by crossing his arms. “We have some business to discuss with him.”

 

Morgan had a cold smile. “Yes, of course. After all it is HIS party with HIS guests. I saw him last near those tables.” She pointed in a direction. “But that was a while ago.”

 

From an exterior point of view there was a remarkable likeness to a pair of very small dogs yapping in vain to a massive and beautiful collie which could sweep them away with one paw but found it beneath its contempt to do it.

 

“Well, if you see him. Tell him we're looking for him.”

 

Morgan tilted her head and her cold smile became a cold smirk. “Of course, Mrs. Baggins. As soon as I see him. Have a nice night.”

 

Grunting and huffing at the dismissal, the couple continued their search. Morgan muttered under her breath something about arrogant pompous assholes.

 

Bilbo sighed in relief when they were out of sight. He tapped on the hands of Frodo and Morgan. “Thank you, my boy. And thank you, my dear Lady.” He nodded to himself. “You are both good people, very good people.” He turned to Frodo. “I'm very selfish, you know.” Frodo blinked in confusion. “Yes, I am. Very selfish. I don't know why I took you in after your mother and father died but it wasn't out of charity. I think it was because of all my numerous relations you were the one Baggins that showed real spirit.” He turned to the perplexed young girl. “And you, my dear. How wonderful was your simple presence for an old fool like me. Having you around here and teaching you was like having a beautiful and stimulating riddle. Yes, truly wonderful!”

 

Frodo and Morgan exchanged a confused look and Frodo leaned to his uncle. “Bilbo, have you been at the Gaffer's home brew?”

 

Morgan nodded. “Yeah. And just how many mugs of ale did you drink tonight?”

 

Bilbo blinked. “Huh? No and not many… Well, yes and a dozen, but that's not the point. The point is, Frodo…” Bilbo hesitated, on the verge of saying something about his plans for tonight. “…you'll be all right… You'll be both all right.” He quickly hid his face in his mug.

 

Morgan and Frodo exchanged another meaningful gaze and shrugged.

 

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Meanwhile under a tent, Pippin lit the red firework, while Merry held it steady.

 

Pippin stood up, smiling. “Done!”

 

Merry blinked as he remarked now that he was holding a lit explosive rocket. “You're supposed to stick it in the ground.” He pushed the firework over to Pippin.

 

Pippin frowned. “It is in the ground!” He pushed it back to Merry.

 

Merry cringed and pushed it back again to Pippin. “Outside...!” The two continued to push the lit firework back and forth.

 

Pippin began to panic. “This was your idea!”

 

The rocket went off and Merry and Pippin were both thrown to the ground. The cracker let out sparkling fireworks and the Hobbits cheered to the spectacle. Then suddenly, it turned into a fiery red dragon that dived to the crowd. The Hobbits screamed and ran away from it, knocking down tables of food as they did so.

 

Frodo was walking with his uncle when he saw the apparition. “Bilbo...” He blinked and suddenly realised what he was seeing. “Bilbo, watch out for the dragon!”

 

Bilbo frowned as Frodo tried to push him under cover. “Dragon? Nonsense, there hasn't been a dragon in these parts for a thousand years!”

 

Knowing what she was really seeing, Morgan beamed and admired the spectacle. The pseudo-dragon passed overhead the covering crowd and slowly, the Hobbits who had been crouching down, began to lift their heads. The firework-dragon then went off in to the distance and filled the sky with a grandiose final burst of fireworks. The whole crowd cheered in appreciation and Morgan applauded.

 

Merry and Pippin were admiring their handwork. Both were black from the exhaust of the rocket. Merry nodded. “That was good!”

 

Pippin was of the same advice. “Let's get another one.”

 

Unfortunately, Morgan had seen the state of the two pranksters, deduced why, shook her head and pointed them to Gandalf who was searching why his red dragon rocket had been set off.

 

Frowning, the wizard walked behind them and grabbed them by the ears. “Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took.” He nodded to himself. “I might've known.”

 

Under the twinkling eyes of no-I'm-not-laughing-nope-nope Morgan, Merry and Pippin were being punished by washing up the entire stash of dirty dishes from the party. Gandalf sat nearby, watching them, drinking tea, and smoking.

 

The Hobbit crowd began to cheered and clapped for their host. “Speech, Bilbo! Speech!”

 

Frodo and Morgan joined them. “Speech! Speech!”

 

Smiling, Bilbo walked up under the festive tree and faced to the front of the crowd. “My dear Bagginses and Boffins!” As their names were pronounced, each Hobbits cheered and applauded. “Tooks and Brandybucks! Grubbs! Chubbs! Hornblowers! Bolgers! Bracegirdles! And Proudfoots!”

 

The patriarch of the Proudfoot clan corrected Bilbo. “Proudfeet!”

 

The crowd laughed and Bilbo waved his hand dismissively in the direction of the Proudfoot patriarch. “Today is not only my one hundred and eleventh birthday! It is also the thirty and third birthday of my dear nephew Frodo!”

 

Many in the crowd yelled. “Happy Birthday!”

 

Bilbo continued. “Alas. Eleventy one years is far too short a time to live amongst such excellent, and admirable Hobbits. I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.”

 

The Hobbits looked at one another, as though they tried to work out if this were a compliment or not. Gandalf eyed him, as though half-amused and Morgan smothered a burst of laugh with her two hands.

 

Bilbo seemed to lose his happiness. “I er ... I have things to do.” He put his hand into his pocket and took out his gold ring. Gandalf frowned and Morgan winced as another painful headache hit her.

 

Bilbo whispered half to himself and half for the crowd. “I've put this off for far too long.” Frodo and Morgan looked worried in his direction. Bilbo spoke aloud again. “I regret to announce this is the end. I'm going now. I bid you all a very fond farewell.” He looked directly at Frodo and whispered. “Goodbye.”

 

He put on the ring and vanished. The crowd gasped at the spectacle. Gandalf and Frodo looked troubled and worried. However, it was Morgan who was the most affected.

 

Seeing, for the first time, the minor power of the One Ring in action, a major headache paralyzed her with very painful shockwaves in her brain. She blanched and was forced to brace herself on a table to avoid falling. An intense and inexplicable terror had seized her heart.

 

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As the Hobbits on the Party field went wild, Bilbo made his way back to Bag End, still invisible, and took off his ring once he has closed the door behind him. He reappeared and laughed. He flipped the ring into the air then caught it and put it back into his coat pocket.

 

He hummed as he considered one of the advantages of having Morgan put a little order in his smial: Everything was ready for his departure and was where he wanted it. He picked up his travel-stick and entered the living room where the fireplace was already lit. However he wasn't alone in his house.

 

Gandalf was standing near the fireplace. “I suppose you think that was terribly clever.”

 

Bilbo gasped at the voice, looked around him and sighed in relief when he saw Gandalf. “Come on Gandalf. Did you see their faces?” He laughed as he grabbed a few candles.

 

Gandalf shook his head. “There are many magic rings in this world, Bilbo Baggins, and none of them should be used lightly!”

 

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “It was just a bit of fun...” He sighed as he saw the reprobation in the eyes of Gandalf. “Oh, you're probably right, as usual...” He retrieved his pipe. “You will keep an eye on Frodo, won't you? And you will take great care of Morgan, won't you?”

 

Gandalf nodded. “Two eyes, as often as I can spare them. And I have already prepared everything for the future of Lady Morgan.”

 

“Speaking of everything, I'm leaving everything to Frodo. Apart for a few books that I know will be in better hands with our dear Morgan.”

 

Gandalf narrowed his eyes. “What about this ring of yours, is that staying too?”

 

Bilbo sighed impatiently. “Yes, yes. It's in an envelope over there, on the mantelpiece...” Gandalf nodded, went for the place, but stopped as he heard the soft voice of his friend. “No, wait it's…here in my pocket.”

 

He took the ring out and fingered it. “Why…isn't that…? Isn't that odd, now? Yet after all that, why not.” He whispered. “Why shouldn't I keep it?”

 

Gandalf slowly approached him. “I think you should leave the ring behind, Bilbo. Is that so hard?”

 

“Well no...” A hard light seemed to shine in the old hobbit's eyes. “And yes. Now it comes to it, I don't feel like parting with it. It's mine! I found it! It came to me!”

 

“There's no need to get angry.”

 

“Well if I'm angry, it's your fault!” He continued to finger the ring. “It's mine. My own. My precious.” At that last word, the eyes of Bilbo bulged and his voice took a strange inflexion.

 

Gandalf raised an eyebrow. “Precious? It's been called that before, but not by you.”

 

Bilbo whirled around and spat. “Oh, what business is it of yours what I do with my own things?!”

 

Gandalf stayed where he was but didn't lost visual contact. “I think you've had that ring quite long enough.”

 

“You want if for yourself!”

 

Gandalf rose up and became very angry. “BILBO BAGGINS!” The formidable power of the Istari manifested around him and shadows darkened the room, waves of power made the structure of the smial cracking. Bilbo was pinned to the wall in fear. “DO NOT TAKE ME FOR SOME CONJUROR OF CHEAP TRICKS! I AM NOT TRYING TO ROB YOU!”

 

Gandalf reined in his power and lights returned to normal again. “I'm trying to help you.”

 

Still under the shock of what had happened and what he was doing, Bilbo rushed into the embrace of the tall wizard. Gandalf knelt down beside Bilbo and placed his hand on his shoulder. “All your long years, we've been friends. Trust me, as you once did, hmm? Let it go.”

 

Bilbo nodded. “You're right, Gandalf. The ring must go to Frodo.” Something seemed to occur to him and he seized the shoulder of the wizard. “But Frodo only! You hear me Gandalf? Only to Frodo!” The Istari blinked as a strange light shone in the eyes of his old friend. “You must make sure that Morgan will never touch it!” He went to his travel-pack and prepares to leave. “It's late, the road is long... Yes, it is time...” He walked to the front door and opened it.

 

The voice of Gandalf stopped him. “Bilbo, the ring is still in your pocket.

 

Bilbo sheepishly extracted the gold ring from his pocket. “Oh…yes.” He put it on the palm of his hand and, after a hard fight with something deep in his soul, turned his hand over, letting it drop. The ring did not bounce as if its weight was much more than what it seemed. Bilbo turned and almost ran out his door. Gandalf followed him, still worried.

 

Bilbo seemed to catch his breath. “I've thought up an ending for my book.” He turned around to look at Gandalf. “"And he lived happily ever after, to the end of his days"”

 

Gandalf leaned to him. “And I'm sure you will, my dear friend.”

 

Bilbo shook hands with Gandalf. “Goodbye Gandalf.”

 

Gandalf winked and smiled to his old friend. “Goodbye, dear Bilbo.”

 

As he walked the path, Bilbo sung. “The road goes ever on and on…”

 

Gandalf softly whispered to himself. “Until our next meeting.”

 

Gandalf walked back into the house. Frowning, he leaned over the ring and reached out to touch it. But suddenly, the vision of a flaming lidless red eye flashed in his mind. He left the ring on the floor.

 

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Later, Gandalf pondered, sitting by the fire and smoking. The voice of Bilbo sounded in his mind. `“It's mine. My own. My precious… Only to Frodo! You must make sure that Morgan will never touch it!”'

 

Gandalf narrowed his eyes. “Riddles in the dark... And why specifically Frodo and Morgan…”

 

Frodo and Morgan's voices sounded in the distance. “Bilbo!” “Master Bilbo!” Frodo opened the door. “Bilbo!” Frodo then remarked the ring on the floor. He leaned over and picked it up. He didn't see behind him the frightened visage of Morgan that stayed very still on the doorstep.

 

Gandalf continued to smoke and think as if he didn't sense their arrival. “My precious... Precious... Must not touch it…”

 

Frodo sighed as the ring was the sure sign that his uncle had departed. “He's gone, hasn't he?” He walked to the fireplace. The two males didn't notice Morgan which was quietly retreating to the guest room that Bilbo gave her. “He talked so long about leaving. I didn't think he'd really do it...” He blinked as he remarked that the wizard didn't notice him. “Gandalf?”

 

This time Gandalf turned around to face Frodo and noticed the ring in the palm of the young hobbit. He smiled. “Bilbo's ring. He's gone to stay with the Elves. He's left you Bag End.” He held out an envelope to Frodo who put the ring into it. Gandalf sealed the envelope with a red stamp. “Along with all his possessions. Apart for a few books that he gave to Morgan. The ring is yours now.” Gandalf held out the envelope to Frodo who, after a moment's pause, took it. The Istari nodded and whispered. “Put it somewhere out of sight.”

 

Gandalf made his way towards the front door where a travel ready Morgan was waiting. She had changed into her dark green dress and leather shoes and was sporting a backpack with all the possessions that Bilbo gave to her plus what she brought from her original world. The books that Bilbo gave her were visible and solidly attached at the top of the pack and protected by leather. She held a very worried face and was avoiding eye contact.

 

Frodo blinked. “Morgan? You're about to…? Where are you two going?”

 

Gandalf took his hat and staff that Morgan was holding for him. “There are some things that I must see to. Places I must guide Morgan to.”

 

Frodo shook his head. “What things? What places?”

 

Gandalf finished to look if Morgan was really ready to depart. “Questions and teachers. Questions that need answering. Teachers that need petitioning.”

 

Frodo was beleaguered. “You've only just arrived. And we didn't say properly good bye to Lady Morgan. I don't understand.”

 

Gandalf pushed Morgan outside the door. He looked troubled and turned around to face Frodo. “Neither do I.” Outside, Morgan shook as her inexplicable terror seized her again.

 

Gandalf bended over so that he was face to face with Frodo. “Keep it secret.” He placed his hand on Frodo's shoulder. “Keep it safe.” He leaved, caught the hand of Morgan like the young girl she was and shut the door.

 

Frodo had just the time to see Morgan with a pale smile waving him goodbye. He then looked apprehensively at the sealed envelope in his hand.

 

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Notes: Well, I hope I didn't have created a monster. Unfortunately, even with the best of intention, there is many resemblance with other fan-fictions in the same genre. It is very difficult to be original without butchering the story.

 

Read and review, please. Thank you.