Raven: An Unexpected Adventure

Twenty-One

Bilba

Bag End, Hobbiton

13 December 2958

"Oh but you must! No one else will do!" Bilba smiled politely at the group of hobbits. Made up of various her cousins and nieces, they were all insisting that she "host" the Winter Festival. The annual celebration was a way of giving thanks for the harvest and praying to Yavana for a short winter. Bilba had always loved the Winter Festival. When she was a girl, she remembered the anticipatory excitement that heralded winter. Although Bilba liked the event, hosting it was altogether overwhelming.

"I'm not sure," Bilba hedged, trying to come up with a better excuse.

Glancing down at her cup of tea she found herself longing to be back in her own sitting room. Once upon a time she'd looked forward to the Winter Festival. Before her family had died she might have once wanted to host it. Now, however, it seemed trivial and boring. All that Bilba longed for, indeed, was her little living room crowded with her dwarrow.

"But why not? You're the Baggins of Bag End now, it's only natural."

"Please, why won't you?"

"You'd be perfect!"

Bilba listened to the protestations and knew that she would have to cave.

"Very well, I suppose, if you insist." Bilba finally acquiesced politely, to her companions' delight.

Conversation ran quickly after that. Plans raced ahead while Bilba did her best to listen. Although she tried to muster enthusiasm for the plans, Bilba's attention strayed. It felt strange to be taking tea and discussing festivals as though nothing had happened. Hobbit memories, however, could be short when they wanted them to be. Bilba had been relatively well-liked before the Quest after all, if considered a bit odd. For now, as long as she behaved herself like a proper hobbit, Bilba found herself accepted back into the fold.

"And, of course Raven must be a part of the festivities!" It was as though the gathered hobbit women had read the turn of Bilba's own thoughts. Whenever Bilba went on social visits she found herself subjected to questions about her daughter's whereabouts.

"Where is she? I was hoping to see her," Bilba's current host, Mrs. Petunia Took asked. Petunia looked around, as though Raven would magically appear, and Bilba tried not to roll her eyes.

"She's spending time with her father." Bilba managed to say with a polite smile.

"Do they get along well, Auntie Bilba?" Petunia's daughter, Poppy, asked politely.

"Quite." Bilba replied honestly.

It was still strange at times to think of Raven as off with her father. Every time that Bilba saw the two together, however, it made her smile. Raven had taken to unabashedly pestering her father for stories and history lessons. Fíli remained Raven's go-to family member and her weapons trainer while Balin was her tutor. As soon as Raven mastered anything she was always racing to show Thorin what she had learned.

Back at the smial, Bilba had been Raven's everything. If she was being completely honest, Bilba did miss that closeness. In spite of her melancholy, however, Bilba would never wish for things to go back to how they used to be. Raven was happy now, spoiled and cared for; free finally to be a child as Bilba had always wanted her daughter to be. The amount of affection and attention that the dwarrow showered Raven with was after all everything that a mother could dream for.

"She takes after her father then?" it seemed that the ice had been broken in terms of the topic of Raven and the hobbits pressed for more answers.

"Yes, she's a perfect mix of the two of us, and since he's gotten the chance to get to know her they've become quite close." Bilba replied shortly.