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Middle-earth Adventure Journal! - 8
🕑 Added 2025-09-19 11:38:38 +0000 UTCChapter 8: The "Burglar" of Bag End
For Bilbo Baggins, this was an altogether ordinary, comfortable, and leisurely morning.
He hummed a cheerful tune while gently swaying his frying pan. Fragrant sausages and delicious mushrooms sizzled invitingly, their tempting aroma making his mouth water.
Ring-a-ling-ling
Suddenly, the doorbell rang thunderously. Bilbo set down his pan, his face showing puzzlement.
Generally speaking, unless invited, few folk would visit Bag End during his second breakfast. It was quite impolite. Moreover, he couldn't recall extending any invitation for tea today.
Naturally, Master Baggins' reputation for hospitality was renowned far and wide—he'd never slight any guest.
He tightened the sash of his brown dressing gown, repeatedly saying, "My apologies, please wait a moment."
Taking quick steps from the bright dining room, he passed through the tiled and carpeted parlor to the door, reaching out to open Bag End's round green door.
In the bright sunshine, two visitors stood in the flower-filled garden—one tall, one short.
Seeing the familiar figure before him, Bilbo widened his eyes in surprise: "Cousin?"
Before him stood the Thain of the Shire, head of the Took household—Fortinbras II, Bilbo's elder cousin. A typical Hobbit indeed.
Curly-haired and honest-faced, wearing loose, comfortable blue robes with a silver belt, with a pipe clenched between his teeth, constantly puffing smoke. White vapor shrouded his grave and weary countenance.
Beside him stood a rather atypical human. Dark-haired and brown-eyed, twice a Hobbit's height, with a slender and well-proportioned frame. He wore a close-fitting dark green hunting outfit that appeared trim and efficient.
Upon his feet were doeskin boots. At his waist hung a long sword, its scabbard gleaming like snake scales, adorned with tiny emeralds spelling out elvish script. Though Bilbo had read some elvish texts, he couldn't decipher their meaning.
Behind him hung a hooded cloak, a finely wrought green leaf clasp fastened at his shoulder. He was smiling, his handsome features bearing slight weariness as if he'd traveled all night, yet his manner remained gentle and full of goodwill.
Meanwhile, Aedric also studied his counterpart. The Quest of Erebor hadn't begun yet—this was merely a contented Hobbit living peacefully.
However, before the main course, he'd prepared an "appetizer" for this "Master Burglar" to sample.
Bilbo blinked, asking puzzledly: "Is something wrong? Surely not some trouble with Bag End's inheritance papers?"
Since his mother, Belladonna Baggins, had passed, he'd naturally inherited Bag End and dwelt here many years. Yet recently, for unknown reasons, several relatives had begun eyeing his property covetously.
Particularly Uncle Longo, who'd boldly declared his right to partial residence at Bag End. It was utterly absurd!
To quash his relatives' foolish notions, Bilbo had journeyed to Tookland, summoning the Shire's Thain and Mayor to sign inheritance documents.
"No, no, no." Old Took removed his pipe, exhaling white smoke. "Bilbo, your inheritance surely precedes your relatives' claims—there's no doubt about that."
"We've come today regarding a most urgent matter requiring your aid." He looked up at his companion, introducing: "This is Master Aedric, a friend bearing great goodwill toward the Shire. He's got remarkable knowledge, journeyed from Gondor to the Shire, and counts himself a friend to Lindon's elves."
Old Took's eyes were keen, his experience considerable. This garb closely resembled that worn by elves patrolling the borders.
"Ah!" Bilbo gaped in amazement, hastily bowing. "Master Aedric, Bilbo Baggins stands ready to serve you."
Aedric nodded: "At your service, Master Baggins."
"Just call me Bilbo." The Hobbit scratched his head, suddenly jumping in place. "Bless my memory!"
He stepped aside from the doorway, smiling in invitation: "Please enter, both! I've just prepared some refreshments—if you wouldn't mind them, please partake."
With that, he turned to lead the way.
Aedric ducked to follow Old Took into Bag End, avoiding the particularly head-knocking beams while instinctively steadying a hanging lamp. Suddenly realizing he wasn't quite so tall as Gandalf, he smiled embarrassedly, bending to pass through the corridor into the dining room.
The two Hobbits' conversation reached his ears.
"Bilbo, d'you recall your second cousin's eldest daughter?"
"Christina? Certainly I do." Bilbo lifted the teapot from beside the hearth. "We're quite close—we met just days ago when I visited Tookland. Though not yet twenty-five, she seems quite grown."
"Has her mother's cough improved?"
After sitting, Took exhaled a long stream of smoke, saying helplessly: "It hasn't."
"Old Sam says her cough stems from lungs seared by fire's power. To cure it requires a particularly elusive herb called Athelas. Scarce any in Tookland have seen such a thing."
Bilbo was washing teacups for his guests when he heard this, asking in alarm: "What's to be done? Need I help search for information?"
In the Shire, he was considered well-read indeed.
"No, today's matter is different." Took knocked his pipe, frowning. "Some fool told Christina of the old burial grounds at the Barrow-downs, where Athelas happens to flourish around graves."
"Then Christina left a letter and departed with Saradoc from Buckland for the Barrow-downs—and he was merely visiting!"
"What?" Bilbo froze instantly.
He failed to notice his cup overflowing with tea. Bright amber liquid flowed down the cream-colored cup walls, dripping from the gleaming table onto the carpet below.
Aedric hastened to warn him. "Master Baggins."
"Bilbo!" Only then did the Hobbit awaken, frantically seeking a cloth to wipe the table.
"What's wrong with you?" Old Took set down his pipe, looking over in puzzlement.
Bilbo's face reddened, his voice filled with guilt: "Well, that fool appears to have been me."
"What?!" Old Took's brows shot skyward.
"Previously in Tookland, Christina pestered me for some tale about burial grounds. Having recently read texts concerning the Northern Kingdom, I wove a story seven parts truth, three parts fancy." After explaining, Bilbo didn't dare meet his cousin's gaze, only lowering his head to clean the table.
"I never imagined this would happen!"
Aedric clicked his tongue helplessly. He knew the Barrow-downs well.
Located south of Hobbiton among rolling hills, reached by boat down the Brandywine in merely a day or two. Cardolan's royalty lay buried there.
Besides numerous barrows, terrible Barrow-wights haunted the vicinity—ordinary folk could never contend with them. Indeed, most would never wish to venture there!
However, unlike most Hobbits, Took and Brandybuck blood carried abundant adventurous spirit. And the younger, the stronger this trait.
The two children would likely show no fear.
Old Took couldn't contain his fury, leaping up and pounding the table: "How could you speak of dangerous places like the Barrow-downs as tales to unknowing children?"
"D'you know this? Were there not other children requiring care at home, your second cousin and the Brandybucks would've already raced to the Barrow-downs."
"Many would perish then—d'you comprehend this?!"
Facing this accusation, Bilbo grew more flustered, clutching the tea-soaked cloth and waving it frantically: "What's to be done now? The Shirriffs? The Bounders? Can they help?"
"What can I do? If possible, I'll strive to make amends."
Several drops of warm tea splashed Aedric's face. He calmly wiped them away, then drained the red tea at the table in one gulp.
Then continued watching the proceedings with perfect composure.
Old Took spat in agitation: "Those Shirriffs who can only find sheep shake their heads like windmills at mention of the Barrow-downs. The Bounders have all gone southwest—reports speak of dark servants wandering there."
"Then... what now?" Bilbo's guilt was thick, ready to overflow like the tea.
"Your fine work!" Old Took glared fiercely at his younger cousin, then drew on his pipe, exhaling white mist as he said gravely: "Fortunately, I've engaged Master Aedric—a warrior who knows swordplay and has the courage to venture into the Barrow-downs."
Bilbo looked over. Aedric, who'd been observing throughout, now smiled modestly and nodded slightly.
Indeed, it was he.
[Beginning record.]
[Third Log: Shire Encounter]
[Time: Third Age 2939, month of Rethe. Location: Michel Delving.]
[Omitted...]
After parting from the elves, Aedric entered Michel Delving under many Hobbits' observation. Just as he sought employment, he encountered the worried Old Took and the Shire's Mayor.
Perhaps his attire proved effective. Learning his intentions, both unhesitatingly offered a commission.
The content was simple enough. Journey to the Barrow-downs to find the children! Merely confirming news would earn a hundred silver coins. Should the children return safely, the reward would double.
To ease travel, they'd provided a black steed called "Carrot." It now stood tethered outside Bag End, head lowered and sweating as it grazed.
Aedric accepted the task without hesitation. Surely he couldn't watch two children fall into peril? Moreover, two hundred silver coins was no small sum—enough to purchase property in Bree.
Besides poetry and distant lands, one required daily bread, horses, houses, and equipment.
As for danger? He had some confidence.
According to the twins, the diamond runes graven upon "Mithreleth" derived from Varda, Queen of the Stars. They held power to counter darkness.
Simply put, when facing dark creatures like orcs, trolls, Nazgûl, Barrow-wights, and dragons, damage was enhanced. Experience from Warg battles suggested considerable enhancement. One stroke often cleaved foes in twain.
Moreover, after so many days' training, Aedric felt power welling like a spring within him—he'd long sought a worthy opponent for practice. A Barrow-wight might prove excellent.
Yet problems remained. He didn't know the way! Thus inspiration struck—he'd proposed Bilbo Baggins serve as his guide.
He was Shire-folk after all! This would solve the immediate problem while gaining a worthy friend. It was killing two birds with one stone.
Only he hadn't expected Old Took to be Baggins' own cousin. Though puzzled why the other knew his honest younger cousin, urgency demanded action, and he'd readily agreed.
Thereafter, both traveled day and night, hastening to Hobbiton for the scene just witnessed.
Old Took commanded loudly: "Bilbo, quickly prepare food for Master Aedric and myself, plus traveling supplies and bedrolls. Then borrow a boat from your neighbor and journey with Master Aedric down the Brandywine until you find those children."
"D'you understand?"
"Oh, yes, yes." Bilbo agreed hastily, running to the pantry before returning with a small bag of mushrooms and a long string of sausages. Frantically, he began preparing food.
This morning of unexpected events proved rather stimulating for his peaceful life.
"Cousin, Master Aedric, please eat your fill." After some ten minutes, the perspiring Bilbo brought two porcelain plates bearing sizzling sausages, tempting half-cooked eggs, several fragrant mushrooms, and a great chunk of honey-buttered white bread.
With freshly brewed red tea, a hearty breakfast was complete.
Aedric nodded: "I won't stand on ceremony." He took up knife and fork, filling his mouth with food.
Since yesterday afternoon, he and Old Took had scarcely eaten, forcing themselves to reach this place. He was utterly famished.
Old Took ate even faster, practically devouring everything. Having cleared the food before him, he wiped his mouth with a napkin, saying with some dissatisfaction: "Bilbo, your skill at frying sausages falls far short of your aunt's. You should use butter and cut slits in the sausage surface to better release the fat's aroma."
"Moreover, add garlic halfway through cooking—it removes any taint while enhancing flavor."
Most Hobbits loved fine food, and even now Old Took couldn't resist showing off.
Having spoken, he drained his teacup and turned to Aedric: "Then I entrust this to you. I must return swiftly to comfort the children's families lest they act rashly."
"Whatever the outcome, please send word quickly to Tookland." Then he looked at the busy Bilbo, his anger unabated: "You must cooperate with Master Aedric to bring them back to me!"
After leaving these words, Old Took departed Bag End hastily, pipe in mouth.
Tooks never lacked courage, nor did the Brandybucks. Yet courage was one matter—possessing the ability to return safely from the Barrow-downs was another entirely.
He had to return to take charge, preventing more from venturing to the perilous downs.
While the two had eaten, Bilbo had hastily changed into suitable traveling attire and packed a knapsack, asking: "Master Aedric, may we depart?"
The pack held all necessities for travel. Naturally it contained various foods, especially his beloved mushrooms.
"Certainly." Aedric rose, taking the pack from the Hobbit. "Come then, Master Baggins. The swifter our pace, the farther your young niece and the Brandybuck lad will be from danger."
"Yes, indeed." Bilbo Baggins nodded, hastening through the parlor and pushing open the door.
Outside, peaceful, quiet Hobbiton seemed to awaken and grow lively.
