-General-
That shout, as thunderous as an avalanche descending from the Misty Mountains, was very familiar to those present. It came from another of the peculiar anomalies for which that little Hobbit was known.
"It seems Mrs. Baggins is not in the mood," Kíli joked.
And indeed, that anomaly was none other than Bilbo Baggins's wife.
In the original history, the Hobbit had remained a bachelor until the last days of his life; he was never known for lasting romances, and knowing him, it was not difficult to imagine him content with the company of dog-eared books and gentle silences.
However, with Aldril's intervention, Bilbo's fate changed in a small, yet decisive detail.
During the festivities held after the reclamation of Moria, the Halfling was accosted by a drunken Dwarf-woman. And although at first that encounter seemed destined to fade as a mere night of wild revelry, it was not so for Mr. Baggins.
For Bilbo, a man of principles even in the most uncomfortable circumstances, decided to take responsibility. With the help of the advice—and no small amount of mockery—from Kíli, Fíli, and Aldril, he achieved the unthinkable: softening the stone heart of the Dwarven lady... even if she bore a beard and a character as unyielding as mountain steel.
"What is the matter, my dear?"
The Hobbit's voice, small but firm, was heard by all, for they were already near Bag End, specifically next to the stable Bilbo Baggins had ordered built to house his visitors' horses.
The conversation that followed went unnoticed by many, for waiting for them in the stable was Samwise Gamgee. The little Hobbit, somewhat plump, could not hide his excitement: his open smile contrasted with his curly brown hair. He was the kind of Hobbit who, upon seeing him, awakened an immediate impulse of affection, as if one wanted to pinch his cheeks for how sweet he was.
"Master Aldril, Master Kíli, Master Fíli, Lady Tauriel... and, ah, the little ones Elentárië and Elenion," Samwise Gamgee said with an almost reverent tone.
More than a gardener, he seemed like the majordomo of Bag End.
"Hello, little one," Tauriel greeted, offering him a warm smile.
"Hello, Sam," said Elenion with a tired voice.
"Hello, Sammy," added Elentárië, with affection and the same gentle weariness.
But, unlike the delicate manners of Tauriel and her children, Aldril, Kíli, and Fíli were more abrupt... though no less affectionate.
"Hello, chubby. I see working for Bilbo hasn't just fattened your pockets," Kíli said with a lopsided smile.
"Hey, that rhymes," added Fíli, getting off his pony and letting out a laugh so loud he almost fell over, had Aldril not grabbed him by the scruff of the neck like a puppy.
"Be careful," the Half-elf said, setting him down on the ground without any ceremony. He paid no mind to Fíli's complaints about the way he had been grabbed.
With a smile, Aldril ruffled Sam's hair.
"How have you been, little Samwise?" he asked. But before the Hobbit could answer, he added, "Have you applied the advice for wooing Rosie Cotton?" raising his eyebrows suggestively.
"Right, right... how is the progress coming, lad?" said Kíli, throwing an arm around Sam's neck.
Fíli, wanting to join the fun, nodded as he grabbed the Hobbit from the other side.
"It's true... have you won her over yet?"
The poor Hobbit, who moments before radiated happiness, shrank like a mouse before a cat... but this time there were three gossiping cats.
With an embarrassed gesture, Sam shook his head.
"I haven't had the courage. What if she rejects me? I could never show my face in Hobbiton again if she did... I'd be a laughingstock."
Kíli and Fíli, in tacit understanding, squeezed tighter.
"Bah! That's nonsense. You have nothing to lose," said Fíli. "In the worst-case scenario, you can come with us; we could use a majordomo."
Kíli, nodding in agreement with his brother, added:
"Yes, you lose nothing by trying. And if she rejects you, I can introduce you to a sturdy and curvy Dwarf-woman, more beautiful than Helga."
Before Samwise could process the brothers' words, another voice rang out in the stable: hard as stone and wild as fire.
"Oh, really? Wouldn't that be that fat old crone Disra? Your tastes are too extravagant, Lord Kíli."
The voice belonged to none other than Helga, daughter of Borin, now known as the Lady of Bag End.
This Dwarf-woman, whose face was markedly feminine and groomed to the point that not a single whisker showed, possessed reddish hair that contrasted with her indomitable character, as fierce as fire. However, next to her beloved Bilbo Baggins, that fire became like that of a hearth: not to consume, but to ward off the chill of the home... and, in this case, to warm the Hobbit's heart.
Accompanying her was Bilbo Baggins, who, despite his age, still maintained the appearance of a Hobbit of fifty. Like a small child, he laughed with glee as he ran to embrace his friends.
"Aldril, Kíli, Fíli... I am so very glad to see you!" said the Hobbit.
The embrace was returned with equal warmth by the three, who laughed heartily. After all, they only saw each other once a year; although Aldril occasionally dropped by to visit, it was not so every year.
Bilbo's smile relaxed Helga Baggins's frown, who now observed him with a deeply loving expression. To think that that Halfling had managed to woo her with his stories and his clumsy attempts at flirtation still seemed incredible to her.
The years with Bilbo had been the happiest of her life. Her only regret was that, due to the difference in their races, they could not have children; otherwise, she was sure she would have filled the home with a noisy brood that inherited both Dwarven stubbornness and Hobbit tenderness.
Although those laments faded when she thought of her little Frodo Baggins, whom she considered her own son. And how could she not, when she had raised him since he was small? Woe betide anyone who messed with her Frodo: there were not a few times she had given their just deserts to Hobbits who made him feel bad by speaking of his deceased parents.
"Once they gather, they set aside the adult and open the door to the child," said Tauriel, causing the Dwarf-woman to snort in agreement.
"Year after year it is the same," added Helga Baggins, "though surely it is a respite for him, far from obligations and worries."
The relationship between both women was harmonious. Racial differences had been left behind since that occasion when their peoples fought together against the Orcs; since then, a sincere and friendly alliance had been born between them.
Smiling, Tauriel nodded and then looked at her children, whose heads were nodding, overcome by exhaustion. They hadn't rested during the day due to the excitement of the reunion, and now the moon was already high in the sky.
"The little ones are dying of sleep," said Helga, observing the Half-elves with a maternal smile. "Come, it would be best to take them to their rooms; Samwise has already prepared them."
"Thank you very much, Helga," replied Tauriel, picking up her two children, who immediately snuggled into their mother's arms.
Before entering, Tauriel told Aldril that she would take the children to the guest room and then would be in the kitchen preparing dinner alongside Helga Baggins, reminding him to hand over his ring so she could bring out all the food they had brought with them.
...
Once everyone was settled and the horses safe in the stable, Kíli, Fíli, Bilbo Baggins, and Aldril found themselves in the sitting room, overlooking the outdoors, awaiting dinner.
From outside came the laughter of Frodo Baggins, chatting animatedly with Samwise Gamgee.
Bilbo's little heir had arrived a few minutes after them. He had gone out to do the day's errands but got distracted chatting with his friends in Hobbiton, and time had flown by like a shooting star. It wasn't until the moon was high in the sky that he remembered he had to return with the groceries.
"Gandalf is taking his time," commented Aldril, smoking his pipe. He only did so when he met with Bilbo and the Wizard, more out of habit and company than for his own pleasure.
"Speaking of Gandalf... have you seen him lately?" asked Bilbo, with a barely disguised unease.
That made Aldril stop smoking and lean slightly toward him.
"Has he not come to visit you?"
Normally, the Grey Wizard passed through Hobbiton quite frequently, at least some ten times a year.
"No," replied Bilbo. "I have not seen him since last year."
Aldril furrowed his brow and leaned back in his seat, thoughtful. Perhaps Gandalf was far away... but so far as to not even pass through the Shire?
"Did he tell you where he was going the last time?" he asked, his tone now more serious.
Bilbo brought a hand to his chin, frowning as he rummaged through his memories.
"Ah... now I remember. The last time, he said he had an important journey that required his full attention. How did he put it...? Ah, yes. He said he had to keep watch over someone."
Aldril's pupils contracted, and a dark premonition settled in his heart like a sudden shadow. However, he was quick to stifle it.
Surely the one the Wizard had gone to watch was none other than Saruman; and had something truly grave occurred, Galadriel would have already warned them.
Or at least, those were the thoughts he clung to in order to find calm.
Deep within his being, Aldril fervently wished that the butterfly wings of destiny had not beaten with such force... that they had not overly altered the preordained path of the Grey Wizard.
...
That Wizard of whom Aldril thought was, at that very moment, lying near death at the pinnacle of the tower of Orthanc, a prisoner of treachery and pride.
His fate?
Undecipherable.
Or, spoken in older and truer terms: his stanza had changed in the Song of Eru.
**
"[email protected]/Mrnevercry" 7 advanced chapters