The Birthday Guest 9-22

by Primula

Middle-earth Fanfiction Awards 2010

Indeed , he at once began to carry on Bilbo's reputation for oddity. He refused to go into mourning; and the next year he gave a party in honour of Bilbo's hundred-and-twelfth birthday, which he called a Hundred-weight Feast. But that was short of the mark, for twenty guests were invited, and there were several meals at which is snowed food and rained drink, as hobbits say.
- FotR

Look at him, over there, head of the table he is. Lifting his mug and toasting old Bilbo again and again. Hundred-and-twelve, he says, wherever the daft old thing has got off to. Probably in a river somewhere, feeding the fishes while his nephew feeds us. What's this, another course? I've heard there will be several, so much food already I'm running out of corners to fill.

"Hand me another ale, will you? Thanks so much."

Wonder if there's really any gold buried in these walls? What's that? Another toast? When will it end? He must realize we're only here for the food, humoring him. Probably making us earn our supper by having to listen to all this talk, talk, talk. Bilbo this and Bilbo that. He certainly was an odd one; looks like it runs in the family. Well, I suppose I can play along, and my that cake smells good.

"Huzzah! Happy birthday to Bilbo!"

How was that? I think I was pretty convincing. Another mug, yes I'll have another mug. Raining drink it is, as they say. Snowing food. Ah good, he's finally done talking - again. Looks like we get another song by that young Took over there, a wonder that he came so far from Tuckborough. Good voice he has, I suppose. Probably just here for the food too. Helps to have money when you want for real friends.

"Fine song! Sing us another!"

That'll give me time to loosen my belt again. Whatever happened to the older fool, at least the younger one is willing to share his money well enough. A Hundred-weight Feast the invitation said. Wonder if that was in food or in gold? My guess is gold - far more than a hundred weights of provender here. Maybe all this tom-foolery is for good, if it means we get a feed before every winter.


What a way to spend your life, going on about someone else, never accomplishing anything worth noticing, hanging about with crazy Brandybucks… Sure glad I'm not a Baggins. At least my family does something worthwhile.