The Adventures of Bilbo and Tauriel

Chapter 8

Lunch was a hurried affair; Frodo was determined to get more answers from Bilbo. For a change of scenery, the Hobbits settled in a Lifeboat under a tarp pulled back at one side so they could watch the waves. The rain pelted the tarp, sounding like a thousand drummers all drumming out of sync. But they were snug inside their fur-cloaks and full of Elf Wine (and Pipe Weed).

Frodo was torn between belief and skepticism. Bilbo's story filled in a lot of gaps and rang with Truth, but it raised a new set of questions.

"I can't believe the whole Shire would be in on a conspiracy to keep me in the dark Uncle. If you'd come home with Tauriel, the Gaffer would've never let me hear the end of it. It would've been, nudge, nudge, wink, wink, chuckles, and ribbing about how my Uncle was so randy, that no Hobbit-Wife could satisfy him." Bemused, Frodo eyed his Uncle as Bilbo responded.

"Hmmph! Well…I never exactly told anyone the truth about Tauriel. As far as anyone knew, she was my Personal Guard, a gift from the Elf-King for my services. And quite handy she came in, convincing the blighters at that auction to return my things when I got home (though my silver spoons were never returned, blasted Sackvilles)."

"My reputation as a 'respectable Hobbit' was shot anyway, what with visits from Wizards and Dwarves and the occasional Elf. So no one really questioned my 'house-guest' after a while. I was just that Rich Eccentric Hobbit who fraternized with 'queer people'. Anyway, you've quite spoiled the flow of my story," he admonished Frodo, a frown upon his face. But a twinkle in his eye indicated that Bilbo was amused nonetheless.

"Sorry Uncle," smirked Frodo, "I'll try my best to refrain, but this is really incredible. I can't believe no-one has ever mentioned your 'house-guest' my entire life in the Shire."

"Has anyone ever told you how annoying your persistence is my boy," sighed Bilbo. "Still, a good sign of a Baggins that is, I suppose." He said with a proud look on his face.

"Now, it'll spoil the story if I tell too much now, but suffice it to say, for the moment, that by the time I adopted you, she was just one of my numerous past idiosyncrasies, and no doubt was considered one of my many 'Elf-friends'. It's no wonder that none saw fit to differentiate between my short term visitors and substantially longer term house-guests. They were all 'queer-folk' as far as the other Hobbits were concerned, and spending far too much time with me as it was."

This almost made sense to Frodo; and, thinking back, he could remember the Gaffer cackling at least once about an Elven lady 'house-guest'. Frodo had just thought little of it at the time, chalking it up as one Bilbo's many 'queer' visitors. The story was beginning to ring truer all the more. An odd thought flickered in the back of Frodo's mind, but it hovered just out of reach. He shook his head clear.

"Alright Bilbo, you've convinced me for now. Please, continue the tale. I promise not to interrupt again…well, not too much that is." He said with a grin.

"Yes, alright then." Bilbo grumped. Then after a few relaxing puffs of Pipe-Weed he began again.

"Tauriel and I spent a fortnight frolicking in the Sacred Garden at Enchanted Falls. It was one of the freest and happiest times of my life. I never wanted to leave that place. But our honeymoon soon came to an end.

'We cannot stay here forever, Dear Bilbo,' she said one day. 'We must make a life for ourselves now. It will be difficult, as we cannot reveal the true nature of our relationship to anyone, least of all my Kin-Folk.'

'Well, yes! I dare say I'd have a jolly hard time explaining it to mine as well come to think about it,' I chuckled. 'How shall we manage it then?'

'I am your Personal Guard, bequeathed to you by Thranduil, King of the Woodland Elves, in gratitude for your services to Elfdom and the Northern peoples of Middle-Earth. No other explanation shall be necessary.' I melted in her soft silvery-green gaze."