#phoebewrites

The sun broke over Hobbiton, throwing rays into the warm room of Bandobras “Bullroarer” Took. With a groan he turned over so that he faced away from the rousing light and continued to sleep. Indeed, it was not until the sun had been up for a whole two hours that Banadobras managed to leave his bed. Eschewing donning his dressing gown in the warm morning air he moved to the kitchen to start the fire and get his breakfast cooking.

By Hobbit reckonings Bandobras was still young, just beginning his 47th year, but by no means did he feel it. In the four years that had passed since the Battle of Greenfields he felt his life had changed irreparably, and not entirely for the better he was convinced. Over much of his time in the past four years had been dedicated—at Gandalf’s insistence—the the further development of the game golf. Gandalf had quite taken to the idea when, after the battle and quite deep in his cups, Bandobras had made a joke about a game of “Behead the Goblin”. Somehow this drunken quip had evolved  over the next several days into the rough outline for golf. And was then followed by what Bandobras called “His Lost Months”; for during the bulk of the summer months he would do nothing more than attempt to master the game that he had dreamt up, with only middling success. However, in his endeavors some progress was made, primarily in regards to equipment. Through trial and error Bandobras managed to carve out a much better club, and create a much better ball—being that goblin heads are in rather short supply and wont to get smelly if left in the sun.

Feeling confident enough, Bandobras had invited Gandalf to return to the Shire and give his feedback and participate in several rounds. Bandobras had been anticipating his arrival for the past several days and thus when a loud knock sounded on his door just as he was setting the tea to steep Bandobras was not wholly surprised. Detouring only to his room to fetch his dressing gown Bandobras hastened to the front door. Swinging the round door inward he immediately craned his head back to look into the face of the wizard standing on his stoop.

“Good morning Gandalf! And don’t you start your peculiarities with me; take that greeting in whichever way you see fit! Come in, come in” Bandobras proclaimed with a warm smile, a smile that was returned in kind on the face of the grey wizard. Bending near double the wizard entered the Hobbit hole, doffing his pointed hat in the process.

“I just set the tea to steep and it won’t be a trouble to put on some more eggs and bacon if you’ll be wanting breakfast” Bandobras said as he relieved Gandalf of his hat and staff and stored them up against the coat rack.

“Yes, thank you. Breakfast sounds delightful.” As he moved off toward the kitchen. “So, your letter seemed to imply that you had come to fruition with your golf.”

“I daren’t call it fruition. I don’t think the game will be truly ready for a great many couple of year, and perhaps not by me. But yes, progress has been made; enough I should think to afford us a pleasant afternoon if you care to try your hand.”

“Ho ho! You are so confident? I should think that I would be quite ready for a game this afternoon, but for the moment all I can think well on is how delightful that food smells.” Gandalf retorted with a chuckle. Thus the majority of the morning passed inside [Hobbit hole name] with good cheer and much food consumed by either party. Not until the hour was nearing ten did Bandobras and Gandalf managed to set forward.

Thusly a very agreeable day passed for both players. Under the light and warmth of late spring sunlight they roamed over much of Hobbiton, playing holes that Bandobras had especially set up for the event. So considerate was the hobbit that he have even carved out Gandalf his own club, similar in style to Bandobras’ own only larger in scale. At once Gandalf seemed taken with the game, though often enough aggravated at the difficultly. Some solace was afforded him in the knowledge that Bandobras himself was no great proficient, and when they both finished only several strokes over and missing only one ball they felt it to be a victory.

Upon their return to [hobbit hole name] both players delighted in getting out of sun and taking a repose beneath a towering and obligingly shady oak tree. Bandobras brought forth two cool cups of ale and his personal store to pipe weed.

“Good fellow! Longbottom leaf, how I have been missing this, my own stash ran out abysmally long ago.” Gandalf exclaimed and brought forth his own pipe from within his grey robes.

“Please, please help yourself. My dear sister sent me over several barrels as her birthday present and I am afraid I am not quite so prolific a smoker as she seems to think me.” Bandobras rejoined with good humour, and then they both lapsed into silence once more and watched the smoke float away on the slight breeze.

“So you do like the game then?” Bandobras asked after a time.

“Yes, I find that I do.” Gandalf replied “Though I am a poorly player, I find my mind quite consumed with it—to the extent that if it’s not too much imposition on you, I shall stay and practice for a while.”

“I should be happy to have you. I confess, playing by one’s self does become lonely after a time. But lo! I am being a paltry host, noon has passed us by and we haven’t eaten lunch! I shall make us some sandwiches, shall I? Unless you crave something more?”

“Sandwiches should be fine, thank you.”

And so Gandalf remained in Hobbition and in the good company of Bandobras—who Gandalf had taken to calling Bully, a shortening of his nickname Bullroarer. For two weeks the two golfers roamed the gentle slopes of the Shire, watching as summer came once again to the land and each day became faired than the last. Until one day when the heat became slightly oppressive and they two chose to pass the day in idleness rather than walking about in the blistering sun, it was then that Gandalf first put forward a plan that had been forming in his head for quite some time.

“I am to be leaving soon” Gandalf stated. “Making my way east, to Rivendell, I promised Lord Elrond my council err summer ends.”

“No! At least, not yet. Summer has only just started, surely you have plenty of time to make your way to Rivendell—though I do confess I am not quite sure where that is.” Bandobras replied.

“Indeed, if I meant to be traveling by myself than I should have more than ample time; however, pony’s legs are shorter and they cannot cover ground as quickly as a full size horse.”

“A pony? Goodness, why the devil should you be riding a pony?”

“Come now Bully, I thought you had more sense. I shan’t be ridding they pony, you will.” Gandalf stated, then turned and pierced Bandobras with his steady gaze

“Me?!” Bandobras exclaimed then stuttered for a minute, quite unable to come up with a decent response. Poor Bandobras’ heart was quite divided, he yearned to see to go abroad, the Battle of Greenfields had quite unexpectedly given him a glimpse of the larger world and now he craved more. But at the same time, at his core he was still a Hobbit, and Hobbits do not just go wandering off.

“But why should I go with you to Rivendell?” Bandobras at last settled on.

“To teach the elves golf, why else?” Gandalf then turned back to his pipe, chuckling slightly to himself.

“Why, these are elves Gandalf! Why should they want to play a silly game that a Hobbit has made up?”

“You know, I think they should all rather like golf. It seems to fit their skill set quite nicely, their eyesight alone should assure them an easy victory.”

“But why do you need me?! Surely you know the game as well as I do, and you are just as good of a player, so there is really no need for me to go through the fuss of a long voyage.”

“Dear Bandobras, I would not deprive you of the recognition. Now I will hear no more protests, can you be ready the day after tomorrow?”

“I, well, yes, I suppose. I’ll have to talk to Mr. Burrows down the lane and see if he can look after my herb garden. Oh, and then of course there is Mrs. Cotton who delivers the eggs every second day, I’ll have to tell her that I won’t be needing any of them…And the mail! I shall have to cancel the mail!” Thusly Bandobras continued for some time, listing off the names of many Hobbits and the things that he would have cancel or have looked after in his absence, but at length he came to the end of the list. “That is all I can think of for now, but I am sure I have forgotten someone. Still, perhaps we can leave in two days? Give me a wee bit more time to have everything sorted, Friday’s as good a day as any for starting a trip, eh?”

“Very well, Friday. But I won’t have you pushing it back anymore. Now, I shall help you get things sorted, so perhaps we won’t have to delay at all.” Gandalf said then took a deep drag from his pipe and let out a large smoke ring.

With Gandalf’s diligence, and occasional aid the entirety of Bandobras’ affairs were settled in one day and they were ready to leave on Thursday, just as Gandalf had originally planned. However, no suitable mount for Gandalf could be found in Hobbition, so Bandobras and Gandalf set out toward Bree on foot. The weather remained fair, and the roads were in good conditions thus in just 3 days the two found themselves being ushered into Bree and taking rooms in the Prancing Pony. Though Bandobras would have liked to stay and the in for a while Gandalf insisted that they press on so first thing the next morning they set out to procure themselves some mounts. For Gandalf they found a proud but old war destrier, who had lost quite a bit of his fire as the years went by, still he had a rich chestnut coat that, such that his owner had named Chestnut. Gandalf disliked this name immensely and chose instead to rename it Rovanor. For Bandobras a sturdy but short mare was found, just the right height for a tall hobbit. She came with the name Betty, which Bandobras liked and kept. Additional provisions were also procured for the duo and thus Bandobras and Gandalf set out, the former becoming forlornly resigned to the discomfort of the road and the latter keeping much his own council for the present. However once they had passed back out the gates of Bree and had got a ways west along the Great East Road he spoke to Bandobras.

“You are now venturing into more dangerous land than you have ever before set foot in. Take heed, for though you have fought goblins before that was on an open field with the height of battle lust upon you. Here, things are quiet and closer, you would do well to keep your guard up and your club close.” Gandalf cautioned.

“Surely things aren’t so bad as that?” Bandobras worried.