2. Paying a Visit

            I figured it’d be best to visit Bilbo during the day. I was sure he wouldn’t appreciate a wakeup call from me. When I first rose—I’m an early riser—I debated on whether or not to stop by Cecelia’s and offer her to tag along. After spending a few good hours watching the sun rise over the Shire and leaning against Remy’s shaggy cheek, I decided it was best if she didn’t come along with me. There was a wound that I doubt would ever heal in my sister, and seeing Bilbo would most likely make it bigger.

            “You remember Bilbo, don’t you, boy?” I whispered to Remy. “You saw him a few times.”

            As the sun rose higher in the sky, I reminisced back to my younger years, when I was a teenager.

~*~

            “You really want to challenge me?” I laughed, smirking at Bilbo, who had just foolishly challenged me to climb the tallest tree he could find. It was like he didn’t know me at all; I had no fear of heights.

            We were in the boundary of the woods, far away from my parents’ sight. If they saw us together, they wouldn’t be very happy. For all they knew, I was out with Cecelia roaming Hobbiton, enjoying the fresh air. Thank goodness for Cecelia covering for me, though it would have seemed more plausible if she had actually joined me.

I couldn’t believe the nerve of my parents, to actually dictate who I could see and who I couldn’t! They acted as if though Bilbo and I were together or something. That would never be the case between us, I considered him too much like a brother.

“I see that to be no challenge at all.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I say let’s raise the stakes: let’s race to see who can climb the highest.”

At this Bilbo blanched. I snickered, already knowing that my friend would lose the competition.

“You can’t alter the challenge,” Bilbo stammered, craning his neck up to gaze at the tree that made us Hobbits feel even smaller than we already were. “I’m sure that’s against the rules.”

“What rules?” I scoffed. “You’re scared!” I stuck my tongue out at him. “Come on, where is the Bilbo I know? He wouldn’t back down; he’d take this opportunity as an adventure!”

“Climbing a tree isn’t exactly an adventure, Lily.”

“Of course it is! There’s a risk that either of us can fall or hurt ourselves.”

“I’m glad that’s all you said.” Bilbo let out a nervous laugh.

“Come on, will you do it or not?” I pressed impatiently, pressuring him under my intense gaze.

“All right, all right. Fine, I will.”

He latched onto the tree like a squirrel and scampered up. My mouth fell open in shock.

“No fair!” I called, tailing after him.

“I never dictated when we were to start, nor did you voice your opinion on the matter.”

My jaw clenched. Curse loopholes!

The competition was clean, neither of us wanted to play dirty—the consequences would be too severe should we decide to get aggressively competitive. Bilbo had the edge on me for a while until he got stuck on a thick branch. That’s when I took my chance to take the lead.

I climbed as far as I decided to. When I had a good stopping point, my arms and legs were wobbly like jelly. Out of breath, I sat on the branch, leaning my back against the bark. I looked ahead of me to the other trees, listening to nature around me. Birds chattered happily to each other, trying to serenade me with a harmony of different pitched chirps. Leaves gently rustled from time to time.

I was so entranced by what nature had to offer that when Bilbo caught up to me, he startled me so much I nearly tumbled off the branch I sat on. He laughed at my reaction; I threw him a sour look. He took perch on the branch above me, lying on his stomach across it.

“I don’t understand why so many Hobbits dislike heights,” I murmured, looking at the view before me. “I think the view from a higher point is lovely.”

“It does have its perks, doesn’t it?” Bilbo agreed, leaving his arms dangling above my head. I batted at them like a cat would a ball of yawn. I laughed childishly. “I’m surprised your parents let you come out of the house.”

“Why?”

“You told me how they don’t want us together.”

“Right.” I scratched my forearm. “They think you’re a bad influence. I think that’s a load of rubbish, really. Who I am has never been influenced by you; I’ve always acted the way I have since I was a little girl. They think by keeping me away from you I’ll settle down and become tame.” My face crinkled in disgust at the mention of the word.

            “Will you ever?”

            “Never.”

            “But what if you do later on in life, when you’re older? Your goals change over time,” Bilbo reminded me. His eyes were trained on studying the bark in front of him, as if he’d find something hidden in it.

            “Bilbo, if I haven’t changed by now, I don’t think I’ll change ever.”

            “If you say so.”

            “Do you think I won’t be the same girl down the road?” I raised an eyebrow quizzically.

            “Hmm, it’s hard to say.” He picked at the bark in front of his face. “If you do, I’ll be there to tell you ‘I told you so.’”

            “Keep dreaming. I’ll never turn into my mother. I like who I am now, I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”

            There was a silence between us.

            “Say, could you imagine either of us going on an actual adventure?” Bilbo asked.

            “Ha, the only way that would happen is if we left the Shire,” I scoffed.

            “What if we did? You and me?”

            “You mean leave the Shire and go hunting for adventure?”

            “What else would I mean?” He chuckled.

            I chewed on my lower lip, considering Bilbo’s hypothetical situation. There was no way my parents would prevent me from venturing outside of the Shire if I was old enough to do what I wanted. The idea of leaving the Shire in search for adventure intrigued me, and I fell in love with the idea slowly more and more.

            “If we left the Shire, we probably wouldn’t find any real adventures.” I sighed.

            “What do you mean ‘real’ ones?”

            “I mean ones that involve danger, excitement, a good challenge—that sort of thing.”

            “That’d be right up your alley, wouldn’t it?”

            “Yes, it would be. Imagine, Bilbo, whatever journey we intended to embark on finally coming alive!”

            “Goodness, if that was the case, our voyages would be very ridiculous.”

            “So going off in search for a dragon, taming it, and riding it to wherever we wanted to go is ridiculous?” I gasped in fake horror.

            “It sounds very unrealistic.”

            “You helped me imagine it. Don’t make it sound like I’m the one with a crazy mind.”

            There was another moment’s silence between us.

            “Do you think we’d ever return home if we left in search for an adventure and actually went on one?” Bilbo wondered.

            “I would think so. I would have Cecelia to visit, and you would have your parents.”

            “Let’s make a pact.”

            “What kind?” I glared up at him.

            “If either one of us gets roped into an adventure someway, the other tags along, no questions asked.”

            “Hmm…that sounds fair. All right, shake on it.”

            I nearly had to stand up to grasp Bilbo’s hand to confirm our pact. I felt elated, knowing that should such a circumstance arise, I would have Bilbo by my side.

~*~

            I began to wonder if that old pact was still intact. It had been a long time since we made it, and I was sure Bilbo had long forgotten it since we became distant. I’d admit I had almost forgotten it as well until just now. I considered just erasing it entirely from my mind. At this point in my life, there was no chance of an adventure coming my way. I couldn’t go searching for one either, because if—on a very slim chance—I happened to be presented with a voyage, I’d be reminded of the pact, and then I would feel obligated to decline the chance of a lifetime all because of the old pact I made with my best friend back when we were teenagers.

            Of course, some old pact wouldn’t be the only reason I wouldn’t leave the Shire. I had Jack to think about; I wouldn’t just get up and leave him.

            I kissed Remy’s bulky cheek before heading inside. My fingers brushed along the saddle which was going to get some good use today. I walked down the left hall in the fork of the house, heading for the den room. The fireplace looked dull, being rarely used this time of year. On the opposite side of the room lay a window which gave me a clear view of what lay outside the house, and adjacent to the window, a bunch of bookshelves. I read, but not as much as Jack does. He is the bookworm out of the two of us.

            I looked closer at the window, noticing a thin layer of dust on it. My nose wrinkled. I was not a neat freak, but I did prefer to see out of my windows without seeing so much as a speck of dust or grime on it. I grabbed the duster that leaned against the bookshelves and swiped the window.

            “Cleaning this early in the morning?” Jack yawned. I smiled, not turning my back on the window. “Doesn’t cooking come before cleaning?”

            “Not this morning. You know how to make yourself something,” I retorted lightly. “It’s not always my job to make you breakfast, you know. You are a grown man.”

            “I think I am perhaps the only man who’s married who cooks on occasion.” I jumped a fraction when Jack’s arms slithered around my middle. I felt his chin rest on my left shoulder.

            “I think I can agree with you on that.” I laughed softly and then sighed. “Do you still want me to cook this morning?”

            “We both can. Neither of us should have to do all the work.”

            I turned my head to look into Jack’s beautiful eyes. I was the luckiest woman in the world, to have a man like him. True, Hobbits were naturally kind-hearted, easygoing folk, so rarely was there a marriage between Hobbits that ended badly, but still, to find a man as special as Jack was a rarity. I was sure that those who saw us together envied us, because they considered our marriage perfect.

            Well, I wouldn’t consider it perfect, nothing ever is. However, I couldn’t deny that what Jack and I had was something special, and it was something that I would never give up for anything.

            Eventually, Jack and I made a mess of the kitchen making our first meal of the day. Hobbits have a lot of meal times and, naturally, have good appetites. We were no exception to this rule. We often ran out of food quickly just between the two of us, so I had to constantly run out and restock the pantry. Let me tell you, I had to make several trips, and it takes a toll on you—you feel so wiped out and pray that the food lasts for a while so you don’t have to go back out right away to fetch more.

            Once we managed to fill our bellies, Jack and I cleaned up the mess. It took longer than it should have, thanks to Jack starting a water fight when washing the dishes. I tried my hardest to focus on doing my job, washing alongside him, but it was hard to resist given that Jack was persistent to the point where it was almost annoying. In the end, the kitchen floor ended up being cleaned in addition to the silverware we used from breakfast.

            After all the cleaning was said and done, afternoon was upon Hobbiton. I felt so wiped out at that point that I considered not seeing Bilbo today. No, don’t put it off. You haven’t seen him in forever, don’t tack on another day. My mind was rearing to go to Bilbo’s, but my body wasn’t—it had to recover from the labor it just performed.

            I was sitting in one of the chairs near the empty fireplace, glaring down the hallway. I knew the saddle and bridle were calling my name, just as eager to leave the house like my mind was. My body was still recovering, taking a nap. A nap sounded really nice. If only I could close my eyes…

            You can sleep after you’ve visited Bilbo, the little voice in my head chimed. You’ve got some energy left in you. Would it be enough to make it to Bag End? I didn’t know why I even thought of the question when I very well knew the answer to it.

            Sluggishly, I slid out of the chair, pulling myself down the hallway, towards the door. I noticed the tack was missing from the stand I had them perched on. Jack. I smiled weakly. The things my husband did…

            Wait, I can’t just go to Bilbo’s in my nightwear. I examined my long nightgown. No way was I going to his place like this. I took the right hallway in the fork, seeking out the bedroom. I picked black trousers and a dark blue blouse. I stayed away from the small variety of dresses I owned. It wasn’t like I was going anywhere special; I was just going to reunite with my old friend who seemed to distance himself from me and my sister.

            Once I was properly dressed, I pulled my orange hair into the neatest bun I could manage. Feeling presentable, I made way for the door.

            I peeked out of the threshold to see Remy tied to the fence while Jack saddled him. Jack looked to be having a hard time tightening the girth on Remy’s belly. I snickered behind my hand as I snuck up on my husband.

            “It’s harder than it looks, isn’t it?” I teased. Jack looked over his shoulder at me.

            “Very. I don’t think it’s tight enough, though it looks it,” he huffed, dropping the strap that looped through the girth. He scratched the top of his head. “How can you tell for sure?”

            “Easy. You make sure he’s not making his stomach bloat out, he tries to make the saddle slip on occasion.” I made sure to pull the girth tightly and secure it. Remy had his ears behind him, listening to me. “If he doesn’t bloat, then pull until you can’t. Just make sure you don’t try to suffocate him, he won’t thank you for it if you do.”

            “I’m sure he wouldn’t.”

            “Thank you, by the way, for doing this.”

            “You know I’ll help you in any way I can, Lily. It’s what I’m here for.” He grabbed my hand, squeezing it gently. Remy watched us with one eye. Jack cleared his throat. “Well, if you still plan on visiting him, you best go now before you change your mind.”

            “Right.”

            I hoisted myself up into the saddle, getting comfortable. I made sure my bare feet were in the stirrups. Yes, bare feet—you heard me correctly. We Hobbits have furry feet, another common trait, as well as pointed ears. We have no need of shoes really.

            Jack untied Remy then handed me the reins. I directed Remy towards the way to Bilbo’s, and, with a squeeze of my thighs, we ambled along.

Remy didn’t like the slow pace we started at, he wanted a quicker gait. I gave him what he wanted but only allowed a fast trot. I wasn’t in the mood for a lope or a full sprint—I would settle for that on the way back home. I bounced in the saddle, the feeling normal for me.

            Heading towards Bilbo’s reminded me of the nights when I snuck out before—and somewhat after—Cecelia had caught me. Sometimes I would venture to his hobbit-hole in the middle of the night, a rather thrilling experience for me. I found being out at night to be much more eventful than during the day, the element of the dark made things more interesting.

            Speaking of Bilbo, I wondered what was going on with him. Since we unexpectedly drifted apart, I wondered if he had anything major happen in his life, like if he had found someone to settle down with. There was no way that nothing went on during the time we lost touch with each other.

            Once the green round door came into sight, I knew I had arrived. I stopped Remy alongside the fence, tying him to it. Though I knew he wouldn’t run off, I wasn’t about to take any chances. I slipped through Bilbo’s gate, hopping up the few steps that led to the door.

            I knocked a few times.

            Nobody answered. My brows knitted together. Strange. There’s no way that he’s gone somewhere, it’s not in his character now. I knocked a few times again and waited a few moments. Still no answer. I pursed my lips.

            What was going on?

            “Bilbo?” I called, rapping on the door one more time. “Are you home? If you are, it’s me, Lily.” I was met with silence. “Come on now, Bilbo; don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me! I know it’s been a long time and all since we’ve talked…”

            Maybe he isn’t home after all, or maybe he doesn’t want to see me, I thought sullenly. Damn, the one time I come to try and reconnect with an old friend and—

            The door moved a fraction of an inch; a brown eye peeked out from behind it. I tilted my head, curious and befuddled.

            “Bilbo?” I lowered my voice to a whisper.

            He opened the door more, and I let out a relieved breath. Time had been good to Bilbo in terms of appearance. His brown, curly hair showed no traces of gray whatsoever. He looked young for being only fifty—yes, he is five years older than me.

            “Lily?” he stammered. It was like he was startled by my presence. “W-what are you doing here?”

            “I came to see you, silly.” I beamed. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.”

            “It has, hasn’t it? Oh, what am I doing?” He smacked his forehead. “I’m being rude. Would you like to come in for a bit?”

            I still had a smile plastered on my face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

**Don't worry, my darlings. Things will pick up for Lily soon enough.**