There are various items strewn across half the entryway of Bag End as Lobelia carefully pushes open the door which hadn't been entirely closed. Utterly strange for her cousin, both the door and the disorder, and she frowns with worry. She's wanted the smial and its contents for years, but never at the expense of Bilbo's life or sanity, the latter of which she's questioned since last spring, and the former of which she's begun to suspect might have been lost on the adventure that dratted wizard had dragged Bilbo on.
"Is that you, Bofur? I thought you weren't returning through Hobbiton for another two weeks." Bilbo's voice floats out from the room Lobelia thinks he's been sleeping in, or had until he'd left. "I'm not nearly ready to leave again yet."
"What?" Lobelia can't help the shriek that escapes her, and she glares at Bilbo when he comes into the hallway, though he's glaring right back, so at least there's still something of him in there. "And just what do you plan to do with Bag End, if you're going to go running off again like some... adventurer?!"
"Not leave it to you." Bilbo glares at her for a moment longer before he starts moving, heading for the room she knows has been his study since his parents died. "Not a single room or piece of silver." His voice rises so he's as easily audible as he'd been in the hallway. "And I shall be returning regularly to make sure you haven't tried to steal anything out from under Drogo!"
"Drogo? You're selling Bag End to that boy?"
Bilbo comes out of the study again, watching her with narrowed eyes. "He's of age, and he ought to have a proper smial to bring that lass he's courting when he marries her."
Lobelia huffs, not at all convinced that Drogo will marry at all, or that he should have Bag End. Certainly he doesn't deserve all the fine things that had been in Bag End, and he couldn't possibly appreciate.
"I'll be taking what I don't intend to leave him with me when I leave. I don't expect I'll be returning to Hobbiton to live, merely to visit."
"And where are you going?" Lobelia tightens her grip on her umbrella, trying to decide where it would be best to poke to get her ire across properly.
"Erebor." Bilbo smiles, though it's rather a less warm and kind smile than even his usual unfriendly ones for her. "Now, if you will pardon me, I have some packing to do, and I don't intend to have to reclaim anything from you that I care to take home with me."
It's nearly rude, the way he ushers her out, and firmly shuts the door behind her - locks it! - without so much as offering her tea. Lobelia stares at the shut door for a long moment. Bilbo had once been such a respectable hobbit, if annoyingly wealthy enough to keep up Bag End, and now. Well.
At least she doesn't have to question Bilbo's sanity any longer.
khajima = gift
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.