Encanto Meets...The Lord of the Rings?

Mirabel's Adventure with Bilbo-Part 2

The next several days passed in near silence. Rising early, journeying all day and only stopping to rest late in the night.

We started each day by taking one bite of an Elvish pastry—lembas bread, Bilbo said it was called. He wanted to travel as far as possible without stopping, and the lembas bread, he'd said, was designed to keep a grown man full for an entire day.

Honestly, I think he was still worried he'd offended me by not saying earlier how far we'd have to travel.

I was long past that, however. Truth be told, I loved everything I saw as we journeyed. The changing landscapes, the weather (we'd had one rainy day, but that did nothing to dampen my spirits), and on the third, very sunny day of traveling around mid-day, Bilbo was back to telling stories again.

"So there I was...sitting in the midst of three monstrous trolls...and they were all arguing about how they were going to cook us! Whether to turn us over a spit, or sit on us one by one...and squash us into jelly!"

I had to admit, Bilbo made me feel like I was there with him and the Dwarves surrounded by these monstrous, foul-mannered trolls. My skin crawled at the thought of sloshing around in some stone giant's insides.

Still, I remembered with fondness how, the night of his eleventy-first birthday party, the Hobbit children gasped every time Bilbo told a critical part of the story. A small smile crossed my face as Bilbo finished.

"Now they'd spent so much time bickering about the hithertos and the whyfors that the sun crept up over the hills...and POOF!!!" Bilbo very animatedly motioned with his hands, "and turned them all to stone!!"

I chuckled. "You've left out a very important detail though. Wasn't Gandalf involved in this a little?"

Bilbo stuttered, caught off guard that I'd known. "Uh, yes, well-uh, he may have *ahem* broken the rock that let the morning sunshine through..." A little red in the face, Bilbo looked away.

I laughed. Bilbo was always a delight. "Oh, but it's fine Bilbo! You Hobbits are excellent storytellers!!"

Bilbo almost choked. He turned back and looked at me with a serious but deadpanned expression. "Don't let the Sackville-Bagginses hear you say that...they've hated my stories for years." Then he gazed down at the road in front of us and shrugged. "Of course, they've just hated me for years anyhow."

My mouth dropped open in sudden surprise. "Why?!" I asked, appalled. "They're your relatives!"

Bilbo turned back to me again with a humble gaze. "My dear, I'm not one to brag, but my home in Hobbiton is the most prime real estate any Hobbit could ever hope for...and the Sackvilles have wanted it ever since I first learned how to walk."

I was shocked. How could relatives hold on to enmity for so long?! I mean, most of my family paid little to no attention to me for ten years, but for over one hundred years?!

Bilbo chuckled. "Oh, don't worry yourself over it, Mirabel," Bilbo continued, "I've long since given up detesting them myself, so it doesn't bother me anymore what they think."

I was stunned into humility as we kept walking. I'd tried hard growing up to not let my family's maltreatment get under my skin. Most days I'd put on a brave face, but inside, I was hurting. I'd cry myself to sleep almost every night. I couldn't imagine relatives hating me for over a century, but Bilbo had somehow made his peace with it.

Bilbo chuckled again and lightly shook his head. "I forget there's still so much you don't know about this world."

My curiosity suddenly piqued, and I skipped a step, clasping my hands together. "Then tell me!" I said excitedly. "Tell me everything you know!"