-General-
Bilbo passed among the guests, humming and nodding from time to time. Many tried to stop him for a casual chat, but it was nonsense. Those Hobbits only wanted to curry favor with Mr. Baggins and, if possible, get him to invest in their businesses. Some, without scruples, asked if it was true that beneath his house lay caves filled with gold.
The latter were ignored by the Hobbit, who simply smiled at them and walked right past. Though, I must say, those greedy lot were very lucky that Helga was not accompanying Bilbo. Otherwise, they would have received a monumental beating that would have buried their faces in the dirt and left their backsides exposed to the air.
However, for our Hobbit, a party would never lack people like that. Though, more than a party, it was a grand entertainment event: storytellers over here, jugglers over there, and fire-breathers (although the latter were provided by the Dwarves).
I must say there were also grateful Hobbits, for the gifts Bilbo gave helped them weather the hard times they were going through. And yes, as you might imagine, Hobbits had the custom of giving things away on their birthdays. They weren't too expensive; perhaps a tea set, bags, and other small items. But let us remember that our Mr. Baggins is the richest in all the Shire. His gifts, though small in Bilbo's eyes, were immense to the others.
Like, for example, that family whose worn-out garments stood out like a flame in the dark. They were given leather and fabric of the highest quality in Hobbiton. It is no wonder that, right now, they were the best-dressed among all the guests.
Almost at the center of the old oak, where the platform rose like a tower for the Halflings, the distinguished guests—or so they liked to think themselves—greeted Bilbo. Among them were many of the Bagginses and the Boffins; also of the Tooks and the Brandybucks, several Grubbs (relations of Bilbo's grandmother), and various Chubbs (connections of his grandfather Took).
Many were distant relatives of Bilbo, and others had barely ever set foot in Hobbiton. But the chief ones, who made themselves out to be the most important, were the Sackville-Bagginses, who, with their noses in the air, openly boasted that sooner or later Bilbo's wealth would be theirs.
To this last point, Bilbo had nothing to say; they could keep their illusion. Over the years he had learned to ignore them. In large part thanks to his wife, who, despite not being a Hobbit, imposed authority and order, silencing those murmurs and the Sackvilles themselves.
Not that Helga hid from anyone that she had buried Lobelia Sackville's stupid husband in a great pile of goat dung. The poor Hobbit believed that, just because he was a man, he could measure up against a Dwarf-woman hardened in the depths of Moria.
Once Bilbo reached the platform, he grabbed a stool and, with a cough, tried to get their attention. But, amidst all the noise of the music and laughter, no one paid any mind to the poor Hobbit.
"Excuse me!" he exclaimed, but his voice shrank and reached no one's ears. "I wish to say something! Excuse me!"
Or at least that is what Bilbo thought. For Aldril, in his lovey-dovey moment with Tauriel, caught his voice. His senses were not to be underestimated; after all, the draconic blood flowing through his body gave him an exponential boost, especially in smell, sight, and hearing.
Frowning, he searched for the Hobbit among all the guests. His sight quickly found his friend, and confusion settled on his face.
Why was Bilbo up there? he wondered.
He would never have imagined that events, due to his intervention, would accelerate. So it never crossed his mind that Bilbo would give the famous speech he remembered. Confident, he thought the Hobbit merely wanted to say a few words of thanks, as he did in previous years.
But the fact that Bilbo kept trying to get their attention without success caused him a slight annoyance. His eyes caught the mockery in several glances directed at the Hobbit, and, of course, that was what lit his fuse.
"I will go help Bilbo, my love," he whispered to Tauriel, who nodded with a smile.
"Go quickly, darling, for Helga looks ready to explode and we do not want any dead bodies at Bilbo's birthday."
His movement drew the attention of Kíli and Fíli, who looked at him oddly, seeking answers. Aldril, pointing with his eyes, directed their gaze to where Bilbo stood. They didn't understand at first, not until they saw that their poor friend was trying to get attention without success.
"These Hobbits never learn," said Fíli, rolling up his sleeves.
Kíli shook his head.
"Year after year they ignore him. Do they really not learn the lesson that ignoring him in front of us is a stupid thing to do?"
Thus, both brothers followed Aldril. Their drinks were left behind; it was more important to help a friend. Though, in a way, this was beginning to irritate them. The Hobbits had a habit of ignoring Bilbo whenever he gave his speeches. Without a doubt, they were ill-mannered, for Mr. Baggins welcomed them warmly while they just ignored him.
Their movement did not go unnoticed by Helga, who, already with her sleeves rolled up, was planning to bash a few Hobbits. She was observant and had also noticed the mockery hidden beneath their smiles.
How dared they treat her little Bilbo like that?
But seeing Aldril, Kíli, and Fíli moving toward the platform, she decided not to intervene. While she had the reputation of a tough woman, nothing compared to the prestige of a dragonslayer and two Dwarven Lords.
Thus, Aldril and the two brothers reached the dais amidst the whispering of the guests. Bilbo, increasingly annoyed, puffed out his chest with deep breaths; he was clearly trying to repress his displeasure. And like water in the desert, Aldril arrived to refresh his mood. He knew he could always count on his good friends.
The Half-elf, for his part, smiled slightly and then turned toward the guests.
"Silence," he said, with a tone of voice as cold as the Helcaraxë.
There was no exclamation or shout. His phrase, short and low, carried with it a strong presence that immediately reached the ears of the guests, who, trembling before it, fell silent. At some point, Aldril's eyes turned draconic and a savage light shone in his pupils. His gaze swept over each of the Hobbits, who shrank in terror, feeling as though they were being watched by an apex predator.
"Good," he continued, and in a complete one-eighty, changed his tone of voice and his gaze. "You may continue, Bilbo."
"Thank you, Aldril," said the Hobbit with a smile. The frigidity and presence of the Half-elf did not affect him, for the latter controlled perfectly whom it was directed at.
But before the Hobbit could give his speech, a stench reached everyone's nostrils. With disgust, Bilbo covered his nose. He looked for where that pestilence was coming from, only to be left speechless upon seeing Mrs. Sackville-Baggins's husband with wet trousers and small brown lumps running down his calves.
Huh? Did he really just crap and pee himself?
**
I know you want more; you can find the advanced chapters at: [email protected]/Mrnevercry