Always Watching

            It seemed as though nothing had changed since I had left the Shire years ago. The Hobbits didn’t seem changed, with the exception of a few that I held close to my heart. Those Hobbits were slowly trying to work past hearing the news of my death. Those Hobbits I watched over to make sure they were handling my death the right way.

            My attention went back and forth constantly. For a while, my focus remained on my husband, Jack. He shuffled around as though he was the living dead; he became a recluse, not daring to venture outside of the hobbit-hole that now solely belonged to him. He still kept Remy, who became his unlikely therapist. It broke my heart to see those two have the same look of loss in their eyes, a look that would possibly never fade over the years.

            When I dared myself to check in on Mum and Papa, I could see how much had changed. My bedroom was never touched; Mum looked as bad as Jack did whenever I decided to watch over him. Papa, he was the worst out of the two of them. To him, whether quirky or not, I was still his little girl. Papa’s little girl. Mum was faring better than Papa was, and I guess that was a plus. When they learned that I was gone, they didn’t forget me. They did what any normal parents would do: mourn over their lost daughter and constantly wonder about the only remaining child they had left.

            Speaking of my sister, I didn’t have to check in on her as much, not since Bilbo was doing that all on his own like I had asked of him before I had died on that Eagle that morning. The way they interacted, you would have never known that they had been together, and that one day Bilbo had just become distant from her, eventually leading to a rocky relationship afterwards. Whatever wedge they used to have between them ceased to exist, broken down by them coming together to help each other cope. I felt proud, to have those two talking again.

            The day Bilbo had broken the news to Jack and Cecelia, I’d watched every moment not from above, in the sky, but on the ground. Though none of them could see me, I could see them as clearly as if I were still alive. I was there when Jack and Cecelia had their meltdowns shortly following learning of my death. I was there when Bilbo delivered them the items I wanted them to have, to treasure.

            It’d been a few years since Bilbo had returned home, as had I. I roamed Middle-earth as a ghost, though I appeared to no one. I wasn’t sure if I was capable of revealing myself to anyone. If I could, I knew who I’d want to see me. It would give them closure; it would let them know I was all right and that everything would be just the same.

Or, thinking about it, if any of them saw me, there was a chance that I would scare the life out of them. That was the only thing keeping me from trying to discover if I was able to show myself to those I wanted to see me.

My attention today was on Bilbo and Cecelia, who seemed to have patched up their relationship nicely over the years, though they went through their hardships. I would know that since I was there to witness all of them. Cecelia always visited Bag End, becoming a part of a new routine of hers.

While being dead, I learned a thing or two observing the Hobbits. Mum and Papa, though they had disapproved of my personality, still cared about me. Despite their disdain towards my being different, I was still their daughter, and somehow, I had had an inkling of a feeling that they could never shun their daughter entirely and not wonder about me from time to time, still caring. My parents had never been heartless Hobbits, and they still weren’t.

I’d never known that Cecelia was a skilled artist. My own sister, who I’d grown up with all those years, had a knack for drawing. Who would have thought it? I learned it today as I watched Cecelia and Bilbo in Bag End. Cece told Bilbo about her pastime, and she thought drawing still-life would be a good, refreshing challenge for her. She’d been drawing ever since learning of my passing. Yes, I know, I’d had years to learn that my sister was an artist. I guess all the times I checked in on her she was never in the mood to draw.

Bilbo was up to the task of being Cece’s subject. She went with a basic portrait, which required Bilbo to sit still. Let me tell you, it was a task for him. He kept feeling the urge to scratch his nose; he wrinkled it every time it itched. I giggled every time, remembering he used to do that as a teenager. Some habits never faded.

I knew Cece didn’t feel my presence, because she surely would have, with how close I was hovering over her, watching her skillfully sketch. I wished I was alive to see this. But, my death was the reason Cece was drawing. She probably wouldn’t have adopted this pastime had it not been for me dying.

It seemed Bilbo had found something to make him drift off into space, because he had this blank look in his eyes. He was statue-still, perfect for Cecelia to draw. The scary thing was that his brown eyes were looking in the area I was in, near Cece.

Is it possible that he…? No, he can’t. Nobody can see me. I was saddened by this harsh truth. Nobody could see me, even if I wanted them to. I didn’t possess the ability, and I doubt I ever would. After all, it wasn’t like I was a Wizard. Maybe if I was, I could show myself to others.

But of course, I’m a Hobbit, and that’s all I’ll ever be. A Hobbit and a ghost now, a ghost that watched those she cared about continue their lives without her.

My focus was on Bilbo’s blank eyes rather than Cece’s drawing. I had wondered what happened after I died that day. I didn’t see how the rest of the adventure panned out, because I had been somewhere else entirely, a place I couldn’t really recall. I was happy to be back in the Shire, able to see those I wanted to.

I wondered how long it would be before my visit would expire. I had to go to the afterlife sometime, if it existed. What if this was my afterlife, roaming Middle-earth forever, watching those around me age and eventually join me? I shuddered at the thought. All dead souls had to go somewhere; they couldn’t just remain floating around in the world…could they?

It seemed like the portrait took hours, because that’s how long Bilbo had that stare that I swore was directed at me. Like he stared at nothing, I stared at him that entire time.

“There. Done,” Cecelia chirped two hours later. Light beads of sweat trickled down her forehead. “You were quite a challenge, I’ll admit.”

“Let me see.” Bilbo slid out of the chair, peeking over my sister’s shoulder. He examined her work. I did as well, occupying her empty side. It was very accurate; she had a pretty good handle on the craft in those years she learned. It was only of him from the neck up, but still, the detail…

“You can have it, if you like it that much.” She smiled up at him. She looked down at her work. “I’ve done some of her, too.”

This sparked my interest along with Bilbo’s. “You have?” I expected Cecelia to draw anything but me when she took up the craft.

“Yes. It’s hard to forget what your own sister looks like. If I remember, the next time I visit, I’ll bring you some.”

How close they were drove me insane. I wanted them to be intimate, really, I did. They both had been such a perfect match for each other when they were younger. I had always joked they would get married. After all, I had already considered Bilbo the twin brother I never had when we were younger, we were so alike back then. It’s funny, because Cece had always teased me that Bilbo and I would end up together and married, because we were the same. I think that was the reason why I never went past friendship with him.

Hmm…I wonder. Feeling curious, and a little mischievous, I slunk behind Bilbo, trying to figure out the best method to get these two to kiss. Hey, they would never know it was me.

A light bulb went off in my head. I gave Bilbo a gentle nudge from behind.

That did it.

Cecelia turned her head the moment she saw Bilbo move forward too quickly. It was the perfect accident: her head turned at the same time he was falling forward. Their lips met innocently, which made me beam brightly. It looked awkward as I was standing behind Bilbo, so I moved to get a better view. My heart swelled with pride at my little harmless nudge. That was all they needed.

They pulled away; blush crept into my sister’s cheeks. She looked down at the parchment.

“I-I don’t know what just happened,” Bilbo stammered. He cleared this throat awkwardly. I laughed though I could only hear me. Typical Bilbo Baggins.

Cece’s brows met over her eyes, deep in thought. “I think I do.”

“Enlighten me.” Bilbo stood erect, his eyes still held disbelief at what just occurred. I was amazed he was talking; I expected the kiss to make him speechless.

“She’s here with us.” She looked up at him, green eyes meeting brown. “I know it sounds crazy, but think about it, Bilbo.”

He did, his face told me and her that much. I never expected Cece to jump to that conclusion, the right one. Did she believe it, or was she just saying things? Did Bilbo believe her or think she was going mad?

He chuckled to himself. “If she really is here, it’s something she would definitely do.”

“I think she’s trying to tell us something.” Cece rose from her chair, gently placing her drawing things on the seat. Bilbo looked panicked as Cece approached him, carefully taking his hands in hers. “The question is: Is this what we want?”

Yes, it is. Why ask that question? You both know each other, think of it as a continuation as to where you left off. I wrung my hands nervously, hoping neither of them would deny it was what they wanted, deep down. I was positive Cece wouldn’t deny it, but Bilbo just might.

“You know,” Bilbo started slowly. I held my breath. “I never forgot all those times we shared together, Cecelia. Some were the best of my life.”

“You’re even including the times where we fell apart?”

“Actually, those times I wanted to forget.”

“Are you avoiding the question?”

 “I’m willing to try again if you are. I promise you, I won’t make the same mistake twice.” He lowered his forehead onto hers.

I knew at this point they had forgotten I was the reason they finally decided to try again. I knew they gave me credit in the back of their minds. Knowing it wasn’t my place to be, I floated out of Bag End and down the dirt road towards my next destination: my home.

Night had fallen over the Shire without me even knowing so. The road was quiet; windows had lights shining from them on the other side. It was a ghost town outside.

In the darkness, I heard Remy pace around in his paddock. I smiled, glad that he was keeping Jack company. I was even more proud that Jack had decided to start riding Remy on his own. I was sure he did it because he wanted to air out. It helped them both because they formed a bond, but it could never compare to Remy’s and mine.

I went right through into my old home. Crackling fire pulled me to the living room, where Jack sat with a cup of tea in his hands, his blue eyes staring into the flames. I wonder…

I went to Jack, gently touching his hair. No response. I pursed my lips. If Bilbo could feel me, Jack could too. I touched his cheek, having my fingertips graze the skin. He flinched, shrinking away from my touch. My heart hurt. I tried again, this time not backing down.

I got him. Jack turned his head, like he was staring into my eyes.

He shook his head. “Must be imagining things,” he muttered to himself. I whimpered.

Jack leaned forward, resting his arms over his legs. Not determined to give up, I went in front of him, this time, skimming the tops of his hands with my fingers. I kept the motion going until he reacted. If Bilbo and Cecelia could pick up that I was with them quickly, then I knew Jack could. The question was: would he be willing to believe it if he ever came to that conclusion?

His eyes went down to his hands. If Cecelia and Bilbo think I’m around, you should too, love. I wish there was some way to show you that I’m here with you. This was the worst part about being dead and roaming the world you once lived in: you had to watch those you left behind cope with your death.

“I wish you were here, Lily,” Jack whispered. His eyes scanned the room around him. “It’s not the same without you. Every morning I wake up and see that you aren’t beside me…” He closed his eyes, his figure trembled. I know, darling. I watch you sometimes in the morning. I know the pain you’re talking about. “I’ve considered moving on from you, but the truth is, I can’t. I can’t, Lily. I know you would want me to continue on, but…I don’t think I can ever move on from someone like you. You…you were special to me.” A tear leaked out from one of his eyes. “You still are.”

I dropped to my knees, watching him helplessly. I knew if I spoke anything, Jack would never hear me. It was like trying to talk to a wall, you would never get a response.

Seeing Jack fall victim to another meltdown broke my already-aching heart into more pieces. Rising, I bent over to lightly kiss his forehead. I felt him shudder under me.

He sniffed. “I want to believe you’re here with me, love, but…it sounds impossible.” But it’s not, I wanted to say. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”

I wish you didn’t think of me as a ghost but rather an angel. I wished there was some way to send my thoughts to him. As tempted as I was, I didn’t want to make Jack go insane. I knew that if I had any chance of him believing I was watching him, he needed to accept it on his own. I couldn’t force him, because there was a chance that I would spook him. That would be the last thing I wanted to do.

I couldn’t handle Jack’s aura of mourning for another second, I ghosted out of our—his—home. I stood just outside of the door, glaring up at the crescent moon, watching Hobbiton. I sighed inwardly.

I wondered if there was such a thing as the afterlife, and if I could have the opportunity to go and stay there. As much as I wanted to watch those I loved, I could only take so much before the routine became dull.

I had one comforting thought. Though none of them were thinking about it, the Hobbits I loved would join me one day on the other side. We would be together again sometime, whether a month from now or years.

 Despite death being a terrible thing many feared and despised, it was peaceful. 

**I couldn't just leave it at the epilogue. I figured Lily could get the last say in the book :)**