Chapter Text
“I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times Otho Sackville-Baggins, keep your disgusting, dirty feet away from my family’s doorstep!”
Belladonna Baggins the Second (who preferred to be called Bella, and who was not so affectionately known as the Odd Hobbit or the Mad Baggins by the majority of her stuffy relations) shook her broom in the face of her waspish cousin. She had planted herself in front of her door the second she saw her cousin and his horrible wife walking up her path. Bilbo had seen the visitors as well and had brought her the broom before hiding himself behind the door where he couldn’t be seen. It was currently grasped between both of her fists and she shook it again. Bungo would lament if he saw the current state of his eldest child. Her curls hung around her shoulders (You’re not properly pinned up my dear, he would say), her blue dress and apron were both stained (what will they think of us, you with your dirty apron?), and her own feet had not been washed in several days (dirty toes, my dear, and you a Baggins? shameful). She was also short a petticoat this morning and her skirt didn’t puff out enough. She hoped Lobelia didn’t notice.
“Speaking of feet, Belladonna,” the hobbit lass stifled a groan, “Perhaps you should be paying more attention to your own toes rather than worrying about my husband. You ought to be ashamed of yourself with the state that you’re in. This just proves further that you are in no state to manage your own affairs, as young as you are. Bag End and Bilbo both need to go to a hobbit family that can manage them, and you can go where you please.”
“My parents haven’t even been buried a year and you’re trying to take our home from us.” Bella exclaimed angrily, shaking her broom again, “Well, I won’t let you. Take your sorry hides away from my doorstep!” She apologized silently to both of her parents, who would have been shocked at the way she was acting. (well, her mother would have scolded her publicly then praised her privately. Her father would just puff up and give her an extra tart for dessert.)
“It’s not your doorstep any longer, cousin.” Otho said smugly.
Bilbo (who had been laughing silently during the majority of the exchange) froze where he stood, a cold feeling creeping over his body. Bella’s face turned white and her arms dropped down to her side, the broom dangling in one of her fists. No, no they couldn’t have...
“What are you talking about, Otho?” she hissed.
Lobelia pulled several sheets of parchment from the folds of her skirt and handed them to Otho with a triumphant sneer crossing her face. Otho had a similar look on his face as well as he handed the sheets to Bella, who snatched them with a shaking hand. She noted the seal of the Thain on the top of each sheet.
“This is the new copy of the deed to Bag End, which the Thain has written and sealed in my name.”
“Where did you get this?” Bella demanded.
“We’ve just come from Tuckborough through Bywater,” Lobelia crowed, “He signed it yesterday and gave us leave to bring it to you ourselves. Otho and I have been made Bilbo’s guardians until he’s of age, and until then we will own the deedship to Bag End in trust for him.”
Bella stood in the doorway of her childhood home gaping down at the papers she had been given. Official documents all of them, signed and sealed by the Thain, granting Otho and Lobelia Sackville-Baggins the guardianship of one Bilbo Baggins (age fifteen) and the ownership of the smial Bag End to Otho (drat that law that keeps females from inheriting or owning property) until such a time that Bilbo Baggins turns of age (age thirty-three) and demonstrates the ability to manage his own affairs successfully. Her eyes welled up with tears. She had been waiting months for an answer, and now she had been given one.
“Seeing as how you’re now of age since your birthday last month,” Lobelia continued proudly, “You have no need of a guardian anymore, and since you will be in the way of our properly raising Bilbo we also have an eviction notice for you. You are now a squatter who has no right to live here and we will be expecting you to leave the property by the end of this month.”
Bella’s head shot up and her hands began to shake. Bilbo gave a shout of protest and bounded out of his hiding place and around his sister. He planted his hands on his hips.
“You can’t make her leave!” he shouted.
Otho gestured to the documents. “I think you’ll find that we can.”
Bilbo looked desperately at his sister. “Bella, tell them they’re wrong!”
Tears streamed down her face. “I can’t.”
“It’s all legal, boy,” Lobelia said loftly, “We will be taking care of Bag End until you’re of age. The Thain himself appointed us guardians. He said that someone needed to look after you since your sister clearly can’t. She’s a completely inappropriate guardian. Young, unmarried, and a girl to boot. The Mother knows you need some good influence in your life. After the way your parents raised you, you should be thanking us for the service we are doing.
Bella’s tears stopped nearly as quickly as they started. She had been expecting something like this to happen ever since her father had named her guardian in his will. She had known that her more horrible relatives would have something to say about her raising a tween young and unmarried (and female to boot) as she was. She had known that keeping Bag End in her own name was out of the question even though she was the eldest since women were not allowed to inherit property. She had been holding out hope that her grandfather (The Old Took) would make an exception for her, but she had at least expected someone else to be appointed guardian in her place, to look after both her and Bilbo. This, however, was something she had not thought would happen. Of all the hobbits to be appointed guardians for Bilbo, why did it have to be the accursed Sackville-Baggins?
And how dare they. To show up on her doorstep just when life was starting to improve, even just a little? The Fell Winter was over, things were starting to grow again, and even though her parent’s graves now sat just south of the garden (facing the sunrise, just like her mother would have wanted) life was becoming better for her and Bilbo. The hurt still cut through her like a knife, but with every day that passed it was a little easier to pry herself out of her bed in the morning and the hurt ached just a smidgen less than the day before. To demand that she vacate the only home she had ever known, to take her brother from her, and to insult the memories of her parents all in one fell swoop? No, that would not do.
Belladonna Baggins the Second may now be a Baggins banished from her home, but it will never be said that she left without a fight. Papa may have been a Baggins, but by Yavanna Mama was a Took. Belladonna inherited a great many things from her mother. She inherited her mother’s love of gardening and cooking, she inherited her cool grey eyes and dark hair, but most importantly she inherited her Tookish Temper. It was this Temper that was about to be unleashed.
Belladonna Baggins (formerly of Bag End) straightened her spine. Her brother couldn’t see it as it happened, but to the two boorish hobbits standing in front of her it looked as if she grew three inches in an instant. Biblo saw small expressions of fear cross the faces of his cousins, and glancing behind him, his eyes widened. Having been on the receiving end of the great Temper of Belladonna Baggins the Second during their younger years and knowing what to expect from the inevitable explosion he tracked a hasty path around his sister and into the doorway of Bag End. (It would not be appropriate to say that he ran away, instead he made a strategic retreat.)
Bella took a threatening step forward (and though they will never admit it, Otho and Lobelia both took several steps back), placed her broom firmly on the ground, and started sweeping the ground around the front of her house. Otho and Lobelia both looked on fearfully. The fact that she wasn’t chasing them down the yard immediately terrified them for what she might do instead. She spoke, and the tone of her voice sent a chill through the hobbits in front of her.
“You, and all the rest of them have already been told that you are no longer welcome here,” she started out in a whisper that grew steadily louder, “You may have documents that give you Bag End, but as I understand it I still can reside here for a week until the month is up. As long as I am here, you will not be. I am the Mistress of Bag End. I am the Odd Hobbit. I am the Mad Baggins. If you are still here by the time I am done sweeping, then I will show you just how Mad I can be and put you out with the scraps and use you to decorate Ambrosia’s sty. You wish to act like a pig, demanding and greedy, then I have no problem putting you in her pen! NOW GET OFF MY STOOP! YOU AND YOUR SPOON STEALING HANDS HAVE NO PLACE IN MY SMIAL!”
The last bit was screamed at the backs of the Sackville-Baggins as their large (and disgusting) feet ran down the path that led to the door of Bag End. Bella made to chase them down the road, but Bilbo grabbed her by the arm. She turned around to face him and would have hit him with her broom if he hadn’t ducked.
“Don’t,” he warned, “They’re not worth it.”
Even though he was nearly twenty years younger than she was, Bilbo was going through a growth spurt that had started the previous year. Bella remembered that her father had to make him all new trousers because his old ones had barely covered his knees (shameful). As a result of his newfound height, Bella now had to look up to see his face clearly. On the shorter side (blame her Took blood) her eyes were level with his shoulder. All her bravery and anger left her once she looked into his eyes and saw the same hopelessness she felt in her heart. Bilbo brushed a hand over her hair affectionately and pressed his forehead against hers.
“Stay here.” he whispered.
He disappeared into the house for a few moments before returning to the doorway with her father’s pipe in one hand and his small box of his best tobacco (what will be done now that he can’t grow it anymore?) in the other. Bella smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
“What are we…” she started to say, but Bilbo cut her off abruptly.
“Right now, we’re not going to think about it. We are the Baggins of Bag End. We will still be Baggins without it. But those are worries best kept till tomorrow, not for today. Lobelia and Otho will be back I wager, but they are gone for now. Let’s think about it later.”
He crossed in front of her and made his way to the little bench in the front of their yard. Like everything else in and around the smial, Bungo Baggins had had the bench made for his beloved wife. Bella took a heaving breath before moving to join her younger brother on the bench. She eyed the box in his hands thoughtfully.
“That pipeweed had better be for me,” she said, “While at this point there is little more I can do to damage our already tarnished reputations, I will not be caught allowing a tween to smoke in my yard. While it is still my yard to smoke in, that is. Father would roll over in his grave even more than he already has. I’ll not give him any more grey hairs in the afterlife.”
“Oh, come on,” Bilbo said playfully, “What Papa doesn't know won’t hurt him.”
Bella reached over and slapped his shoulder. “I may have turned a blind eye to some of your antics before, but I have to be the grown hobbit now. Now give me the pipeweed.” She held out her hand expectantly and with an exaggerated sigh he placed the box on top of her palm. She took the pipe from him as well, opened the box, scooped out a small amount of tobacco, and packed it into the pipe. Bilbo teased her all through the process, making as if to steal the pipe but she held it just out of his reach. He finally gave up just as she finished.
“Fine, fine, be that way.”
She searched the pockets in her skirt for a moment before giving up. Eyeing her brother, Bella held out her hand again and Bilbo rolled his eyes at her. He reached into his shirt pocket (not wearing a decent waistcoat, what will be thought of him being in public in only a shirt and trousers?) and pulled out a packet of matches. Lighting one, he handed it gently to her. She took it and stuck it into the pipe, placing the other end in her mouth and pumping gently to light the tobacco. Once lit enough, she waved the match in the air until it went out and leaned back against the bench, blowing smoke rings into the air.
“What I did was positively Tookish.”
“Well, I think you were due for it.”
“Aye, maybe. But I am the elder here, a grown hobbit, and I need to start acting like it. Someone has to watch over you.”
“What did I tell you, Bell?” Bilbo asked, “We will worry about it tomorrow. Just enjoy today.”
So engrossed in their conversation, the siblings did not notice the figure standing at their gate until he spoke.
“Good morning.”