Aedric could still grasp the situation. Hobbits being enthusiastic was normal—their way of socializing—but their questions about his plans were unusual. They preferred to mind their own affairs. Even Took was like that.
"Seems you see through things yet," Took said, rubbing his bright red nose with a shy smile. "Are you familiar with the Brandybuck family in Buckland?"
"Yes, I have heard of them," Aedric replied, tapping the Star of Hope pinned to his chest—a signal that he knew of them from the Rangers and needed no further explanation.
"Good," Took sighed with relief. "Recently, there's been trouble."
"Nearly a hundred grand trees planted along the river suddenly went mad!"
"What?" Aedric blinked, confused. Was that not normal? When he and Bilbo had floated down the river, some riverside trees had appeared to thrash wildly, using travelers as targets! Some fell into the water, only for the river goddess Goldberry to rescue them.
Was this abnormal? At the time, they guessed Bucklanders might be cutting trees and burning woods, angering these trees. Could it be a misunderstanding? No way!
"Now, anything that approaches the riverbank is battered relentlessly—branches striking birds, small beasts, and leaving blood and corpses everywhere."
"It's like the awakened trees of the Old Forest, no, no, those trees are strange but nothing like Buckland's... this is more..."
"Evil? Darkness?" Aedric suggested.
"Yes, yes, exactly that," Took confirmed, patting his head.
Aedric inhaled deeply and leaned back in thought. Ford had described how, when he and Bilbo floated the Brandywine, the singing trees by the Withywindle had tried to confuse them, not the Huorns themselves. Later, Goldberry had protected them by drowning pursuers. The night watchmen of Stonehill claimed to have seen a tall willow uproot itself and move toward the Old Forest. It all matched.
"Has the Brandybuck family tried to solve this?" Aedric asked.
"They have. Torches, oiled arrows, kindling piles—they've tried setting fires," Took explained. "But the trees draw water from the river to douse flames or throw embers back."
"All with their branches!"
No wonder they were wary of Bilbo. The Hobbits of Buckland had long battled these trees.
Took frowned. "No one can get near the riverbank now. People are terrified. The trees were planted to stabilize banks and provide summer shade for fishing. Who could have imagined this?"
"A few days ago, Gorhendad Brandybuck, ruler of Buckland, sent for my old friend Gandalf."
Took looked at Aedric: "You know Gandalf, don't you?"
"Of course," Aedric nodded. Two people had recently mentioned the wizard to him.
But Took sighed. "I don't know where he is. I'm hoping you can help."
Aedric wasn't certain he could solve this strange problem. Recently, strange tasks kept coming his way—finding a doomed chieftain was one thing, but dealing with nearly a hundred enchanted trees? Did they mistake him for a wizard from Aman?
"Honestly," Aedric said after several puffs from his pipe, "I might not have the power to resolve this fully. I can only recommend a few who might."
Took's face fell but lifted with hope.
"Who?" he asked.
"Besides Gandalf, there's Radagast, the Brown Wizard, who might help," Aedric replied. "But he's far—beyond the Misty Mountains—and the journey takes at least six months. His home is hidden deep in the forest."
"Anyone else?" Took pressed.
"Then there's Saruman, the White Wizard of Isengard. If you follow the Great North Road south, then turn north after the Isen River, you'll find him."
"But Saruman's temper is unpredictable. I can't promise he'd lend aid."
Took shook his head hopelessly. "Six months... my crops will rot before then."
"Closest I know is Lord Elrond of Rivendell," Aedric offered. "He is wise and kind. If found, he may help. But Rivendell is a closely guarded secret. I can inquire, but no promises."
Took pondered deeply, then sighed. "Three people, and two I've barely heard of. How can I ask for their help?"
"How about this?"
Took brightened. "Aedric, could you visit Buckland with Glóin's caravan? You can assess the situation firsthand. If you solve it, the Took and Brandybuck families will be forever in your debt."
He sighed again. "If not, you may refuse. At least then, I can explain to Oldbuck."
"You're a friend of the Took family regardless," he added warmly.
Aedric drew from his pipe and nodded. The dwarves did plan to stay in Buckland for a few days. If he failed, he could relay the truth. Given Hobbits' own generous nature, forcing him into a dangerous task seemed unlikely.
Fortinbras II Took, the Took Thain, was a great host—he'd written letters of introduction, prepared rooms, even held banquets.
Refusing outright would be rude.
[Begin Recording]
[Sixth Log: Familiar Trouble]
[Time: Third Age 2939, Stirring Month, Location: Tookland, Shire West Farthing.]
[Thain Fortinbras II Took requests your help in Buckland. Enchanted trees threaten the land. You plan to journey with the caravan, evaluate the situation, and decide next steps.]
[Next…]
"Good, good!" Took beamed, about to speak when his wife Lalia arrived.
"The feast is ready. Shall we begin?"
"Yes, let's begin quickly!" Lalia led Aedric and Morgan to the hall.
Cheerful music played. Children danced in rings, their colorful garb swirling like bright garlands.
Most guests wore formal attire to honor the occasion, including the dwarves, who dressed in fine clothes rich with jewelry and belts of gold and silver.
Aedric felt out of place—he, Morgan, and Bilbo alone wore simple travel clothes. Their hurried arrival left no room to prepare finery.
Still, they were the honored guests, earning genuine smiles and warm thanks.
Under Lalia's guidance, the warehouse emptied to flood the feast with food.
The banquet was sumptuous. Delicate desserts, abundant wines, and dwarf-brewed beer thrilled Glóin and friends.
Guarding the barrels, the dwarves drank deep, savoring the moment and forgetting tomorrow's journey.
But joyful nights pass swiftly.
The moon rose high.
Aedric was given the finest guest chamber—spacious, comfortable, with large windows framing the dawn's beauty.
Before rest, Lalia and the family tailor arrived to prepare formal attire for future banquets—both a gift and a token of thanks.
Aedric accepted with gratitude—since arriving in Middle-earth, nearly all his clothes had been gifts.
Now he would have a new suit.
The next morning, under bright sunlight, the caravan left Tookland and reached Michel Delving by nightfall.
Goods were unloaded, including Aedric's order, soon bound for the Blue Mountains for dwarven smiths to fashion human-grade armor.
Continuing smoothly, the caravan arrived at Frogmorton.
They lodged at the Green Dragon Inn, as dwarves began trading with villagers.
Morgan stayed at the inn, exchanging culinary tips with the cook.
Aedric and Bilbo traveled north to Hobbiton, only to find the villagers dispersed like ghosts.
Concerned, Mr. Baggins inquired and learned that rumors of their deaths had long spread.
Even Bilbo's uncle's kin had circulated this gossip.
Aedric's temper flared.
He stormed the Sackville-Baggins's front door, dragging Bilbo's uncle Longo roughly outside and beating him soundly.
Aunt Camellia cowered with her child, terrified.
But it did not end there.
Aedric forced the couple to go door to door, clearing the false rumors.
He followed on horseback, watchful, reprimanding them when they faltered.
Curious villagers gathered to watch, none calling the Shire Watch.
Bilbo borrowed a pony, pleading all the way, but Aedric was relentless.
Those spreading harmful rumors for selfish gain were scum—not to be forgiven.
Within two days, the Sackville-Bagginses paraded through Hobbiton and Frogmorton.
Soon, the laughable rumors would be replaced by the truth: Bilbo was very much alive.
Did they need to clarify?
Certainly not.
"Aedric, farewell, my dear friend," Bilbo said, arms open. "Bag End always has a room for you. When adventures tire you, come back to the Shire, to Hobbiton—stay by my side."
"Agreed. When I grow old, we shall be companions," Aedric whispered, hugging Bilbo.
"I have a home in Michel Delving as well. If Hobbiton tires us, we can visit and see the sea, the gulls, and the sunrise."
Bilbo's eyes shone. "It's a promise."
"It is," Aedric replied, patting his back. Then he mounted his horse, waved, and rode off without hesitation.
Bilbo Baggins, once a noble of Bag End and now a rising figure, lingered until Aedric disappeared from view before sighing deeply.
He drew his pipe, opened the gate, and settled on a bench.
A tall old man with a cane passed by.
He glanced back at the gloomy, smoking Hobbit in the yard, a faint smile flickering in his dark eyes.
But he said nothing and strode on.