Once Upon A Contract

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 8: 𝕱𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙

There was a long moment of blessed silence, in which Bilbo placed his clenched hands on the table and heaved in a few trembling deep breaths. He was going to ignore his steak knife in the wall. He was also going to ignore the way Master Nori was already sliding another teaspoon into his sleeve. By Yavanna's blessings, he might even ignore the way his mother's crochet doilies were being used as napkins.

However, he could not ignore how across the room, he could see Gandalf topping up a man-sized stemless wine glass and looking as pleased as punch.

"What do you think you are doing?" Bilbo snarled, his hands already grasping for the next ring to throw. "Three faunts, Gandalf. Three! No Took contract between. No guarantee!" he held up the contract Master Balin had given him and shook it rather roughly. "This is a disgrace. My father would be rolling in his grave and you, you blasted In-Betweener told them I had already agreed! I had not seen you since before I was a Tween, Gandalf. A pint-sized faunt searching for fairies in the woods."

The dwarrow all looked rather impressed at the way Bilbo had shrieked at the In-Betweener, their eyes widening as Bilbo slammed his hand down hard enough to rattle the nearby platters. "I am Master of Bag End, holder of the deed to the Hill and Underhill. I cannot take off like some trained trick show pony all because you promised my services. I am a Baggins, Gandalf. A Baggins. Not a Took."

The smirk on Gandalf's face fell a little bit with each word Bilbo shouted to the rafters. Quietly frankly, Bilbo couldn't find it in himself to care. At the moment, it was easier to scream and shout at Gandalf then it was to think about Prim joining this idiotic bunch. Yavanna knew the tween just might, as a way to get back at both Bilbo and grandfather.

Yavanna also knew Bilbo would have done the same had the positions been reversed.

"I am not my mother, Gandalf. She is long buried and sent to the Garden." He whispered as the wind seemed to fade from his sails. In truth, Bilbo already had enough cause to be angry. However, he didn't think it was worth being furious while remembering or speaking about his parents. Bilbo already had enough horrible memories to last him a life time, he wasn't too keen on colouring the few good ones he had in tints of anger.

"You know Shire Law. Contract must be first proposed to the Thain and then given to the Tooks. That law cannot be broken even for you." Bilbo continued, half wondering if it would be worth it to pour himself a glass of ale.

He had begun the day with a cup and it seemed he would be ending it much the same.

"Your mother would have come." Gandalf hummed as he took a long draught from his glass. "She never seemed to care for the law."

"My mother," Bilbo responded, trying his best not to flinch at the reminder of his mother's flaunting of rules and propriety (Baggins were respectable, Tooks were odd. But what did it mean when you were neither but both?) "was the Thain's favored daughter. She, as a person in line for the Thainship, was encouraged to learn more of the world. I ," Bilbo half snarled, his hand waving about the contract for good measure, "am the head of the Baggins and thus removed from the line of the Thainship. I must bow to the Thain's laws."

"Oh Bilbo, when did your books and maps come to mean more than the world?" Gandalf said mournfully, his hat almost drooping at the grief in his tone.

For a heartbeat, all Bilbo could do was gape. Books and maps? More than the world? Bilbo was a Baggins. The Baggins. Books and maps meant nothing if contracts could not be mended and reformed. Books and maps meant nothing when contract could mean the difference between a profitable venture and a venture that lead to nothing but a 'breaker.