What
A number of individuals gather at the Bracegirdle library and talk about a variety of subjects.

Who
Lotho Sackville-Baggins (#18781)...Pippin Took
Oveila Bracegirdle (#25593)........herself
Filby Pott (#29680)................Wiligar Took
Dharlon Took (#27754)..............himself

Pippin stands on a wooden step stool, reaching for a book that's slightly out of reach. Arching his feet to stand on his tiptoes, the tips of his fingers brush up against the desired book. As he touches the precariously balanced book, however, the supporting stack falls cruelly down, beginning to pelt him in a barrage. Within seconds, he lies on the floor, unceremoniously covered by a small number of rather heavy books.

Oveila sits erect in a large chair upholstered in a gaudy pink fabric. A book lays open on the table before her, but she seems more intent on keeping an anxious eye on those browsing in the library. A close observer might note that the book in front of her, a large tomb on the keeping of rare insects, isn't even rightside up. Hearing a loud crash, her rosy face jerks to the back of the room to face a tall pile of wiggling books.

Mister Wiligar Took steps inside the library, looking about the expansive collection of lore and history with a nostalgic, almost reverent look upon his face. But this soon vanishes as he sees the other Took lying upon the floor. With a quiet gasp of surprise he rushes toward Peregrin and stoops over the other and looks at him in curiousity.

"Oh dear, oh dear..." he mutters to himself before turning his attention to the other. "Do you... need any help there, sir?" He extends a helping hand.

Muffled yelps of helplessness emanate from the young Tooklander, as he casts off the books one by one. Sitting halfway up from his previously supine position, Pippin acknowledges Wiligar. "Thank you kindly...I think all be quite all right." He brushes himself off, and takes the tome he was seeking. Taking a deep breath, Pippin then blows on the book, sending a thick cloud of dust billowing upwards towards Wiligar's face.

Walks in a bit after Pippin's tumble, and it seems he was to far away to hear the actual event. However, glancing about the room as he often does when entering, he notices the aftermath. Looking quite a bit surprised, he begins to walk over beginning to shower questions "Are you alright?-" and then before reciving a response "What happened? Can I help you? How-" He cuts himself off and tries to pick up some books while still keeping his attention focused on Pippin

Scooting her chair back, Oveila stands up and rushes over to the young hobbit afloat in a sea of books. She tries to present a stern face, squinting her eyes and scowling a bit- but alas, the situation gets the best of her and she breaks into a smile. She tries to maintain her authority by forcing out a stern comment. "Young man, don't you have any respect for these ancient treasures! Why most of these books are older than you.. the Thain only kows what could have happened..."

"Oh... oh dear..." Wiligar retracts his arm and covers his face somewhat as dust rises toward him. "Bother these allergies..." The Took sniffs a bit and pulls a handkerchief from a pocket to dry his eyes. "Well, I'm glad to see you're all right, sir, I'd hate to see anyone hurt..."

He turns around again and looks over a bookcase nearby. "Is a librarian in? I've come to speak with Mister Bracegirdle concerning a book I'd like to borrow, but I see that he isn't available right now..."

Pippin rubs the back of his head ruefully, where a lump no doubt has sprung up. "Oooh, I'm terribly sorry, madam. I suppose I should have asked for assistance, but I was eager to get my hands on this book!" He holds up an orange book, fraying at the edges and newly dust-free. Kneeling now, the young fellow gathers a few of the toppled books and hands them sheepishly up to Oveila.

Oveila raises an unkempt brown eyebrow as she examines the sneezing figure. "No, Mister Bracegirdle is not here, but I shall do in his steed. What book is it that you wish to borrow? Be forewarned that we Bracegirdles are very protective of our books, and we don't hand them out to just any old stranger. Some people aren't in the habit of the returning them- can you imagine?"

Turns toward Oveila as she begins to talk, and a smile of his own crosses his face, at about the moment the statement 'The Thain only knows' is made. He opens his mouth almost as if to speak, then shuts it a merely grins, picking up the last couple of books off the floor. Also, as Ovelia further comments about not returning books, his eyes float to Hugo's Bookcase, and he appears half on the verge of laughter.

She snatches up the offered books a little hastily, but Pippin's pitiful expressing softens her. "I'm sorry for being rough.. getting excited over a book is completely understandable.."

"Very... protective... of course." Wiligar muses, grinning bemusedly to himself. "It's not really important, though it has been nagging me for the last few days. I'm looking for books on law... I've read all books on the subject at my home in Tuckborough... and I had heard that Mister Bracegirdle had amassed a rather substantial collection of volumes." The Took looks at the librarian. "Anyway, might you have anything on the subject?"

Taking the rest of the books littering the floor, Pippin places them judiciously on an easily reached shelf. With the back of his hand, he wipes away several beads of perspiration which had gathered on his forehead during the slight altercation with the books. Opening the orange book, his finger begins to trace down the index, speaking to Oveila without looking at her, "You know, Master Hugo has been in position of this book for over a year! Adalbert at the Great Smials library sent me to make sure it was still in tact, so to speak, though we wouldn't dream of repossessing it while Hugo was still thumbing it through."

Oveila surveys the fine collection, pointedly not touching them while the memory of Pippin's accident still lingers in memory. Instead, her hands are clasped neatly behind her back as she strolls among the bookshelves. "Ahh.. law.. let's see. We have a fine tome on Shire Justice I see.. Perhaps that would satisfy your needs?"

Dharlon can't control himself, and opens is mouth "I think it has quite a bit of dust for 'Still being thumbed through'..." He grins, stiffling a laugh, then looks at the crowd and decides to admend quickly "Of course, it is wholy possible to gather dust in a day I suppose..." He then begins to scan the book spines, trying to become unoticed again.

"Ah, good old Adalbert..." Wiligar lapses into a nostalgic stupor at the mention of the Took librarian. "All the pleasant memories of days spent inside the library of the Great Smials, the years of study under the works of the greats... Remidoc Oldbuck, Halcho Pott, Vanderhall Bolger... what a service it's done me..."

He snaps out of it as Ovelia addresses him. "Ah, of course!" He walks toward the bookcase to where the librarian is. "Yes... this might be of some help... which book is it?"

"Oldbuck?" Pippin looks rather shocked, "Master Wiligar, you're older than I'd thought!" He suppresses an irreverant laugh. "You know, notwithstanding Hugo's collection, the Bolger Smial library has an excellent legal collection. I know that's where cousin Hildinand prepares before a big case, and he always comes back muttering about Chubb v. Chubb or Goodbody v. Drinkwater." Pippin turns his attention to the book, and finding what he wants in the index, deftly flips through the gold-lined pages until he finds the desired information.

"I believe it is this one here, with the excellent binding." Oveila gestures to an monstrous green volume featuring Shire Justice written along the spine with a flourish. "Quite an art bookmaking must be. Although all books are quite similar in structure, they tend to vary so much in their color, design, and, "she lifts the book off the shelf, gingerly opens it up, and sniffs. "And their smell. Yes, definitly very unique in smell."

Wiligar laughs and swings back around to Pippin. "No, no, sir... I didn't mean I'd actually been taught by any of those great hobbits... I'd read their works, biographies, and so on... take Halcho, a great politician, the Mayor who saved us from the threat of trolls back in the tenth century; and Remidoc, a cousin of the venerable Gorhendad, a sage hobbit with a vast knowledge concerning legal matters. My heroes, one might say, and the inspiration that pushed me along to my current proffession: that of an attourney." He sighs slightly to himself.

Pippin looks warily at Wiligar, "Remidoc and Halcho, perhaps, but let's not overrate Vanderhall Bolger. He's nothing but a stuffy windbag, and you won't find many a hobbit who will disagree with me." His eyes trace back to the book, and after reading a paragraph or two, he closes it, sending up another small plume of dust. "Well, I've found what I wanted. I shall tell Adalbert the book is still well in tact." He bows low to Oveila, "Thank you kindly for your assistance, I shall no doubt return with Diamond...she's always interested in perusing vintage copies of the works of Nectarina Bracegirdle."

"Well, of course..." Wiligar nods slowly to the other. "Morals notwithstanding, though, Bolger does have an eye for law and such. I can't say I agree with his anti-dwarfist policy, either, but I do believe he's got some talent in his field."

Dharlon finishes a scan of the spines, and shakes his head, moving toward the door. His smile and humor have faded, and he seems a tad bit disapointed. He slowly turns around the corner, and out of sight from all in the library

Turning at last back to Ovelia, he takes a good look at the book she points out. "Oh, this is... this is absolutely marvellous..." The lawhobbit stares at the tome in awe. "Indeed, this might be just what I'm looking for..." He turns back to the librarian. "Now... how might I go about borrowing it? If you or Mister Bracegirdle would rather I didn't, of course, I'd gladly leave it alone."

"Hopefully she has more of a way with books than you have demostrated," Oveila answers Pippin, the edges of lips scooting up her rosy cheeks. "And now," she turns to the attourney, "Mister.. what was your name again? I'm sure he wouldn't mind it as long as I keep track of where it runs off to."

"Oh, yes, of course... my name is Took. Wiligar Took, attourney at law, Chubb, Grubb, and Burrows, Little Delving... though you can reach me at Tuckborough, of course." Wiligar's gaze is now rather transfixed upon the tome with in an almost loving manner.

Oveila nods, her curls bobbig up and down softly. "Well then Master Took. I believe the book shall be in good hands with you. I just hope you won't become too taken by it..." A brief squint of the eyes cnveys her meaning.

Wiligar practically beams. "Oh, thank you, madam!" He almost shatters the golden silence of the great repository of lore. "Of course I'll return it... if I don't, be sure to send someone after me..." The Took walks, almost in a trance, toward the great book of dubious odour. Staring at it as a lover, he asks, "Should I... should I just take it now?"

Oveila glows like a proud parent, proudly ushering the excited patron over to the table where she previously sat. "Yes, just let me make a note of this.." A small hand lifts to scratch her head. Two glimmering eyes scan the area. "Now where did I put my paper?"

"Paper... paper, of course..." Wiligar reaches into a back pocket and pulls out a small pad. "You can use this, madam, I'd be glad to get this back to my home as soon as possible..." He extends the pad to the librarian in an eager gesture.

Oveila accepts the offered pad, looking at the Took with a hint of admiration. "Oh, thank you, this will do perfectly!" She plops herself down hastily on the oversized chair, positioning the pad on the table before her. "Here we go... but.. hmm.. no pen.."

"Uh... uhh... pen..." Took searches frantically for a writing implement. "Well... why don't I just take this back home now and send you a pen and ink through the Quick Post? I really must read this book... I've waited all my life for suchj an opportunity..."

"You mean.. just walk out with the book?!?" Her face pales, the color draining as quickly as a dwarvish ale mug. She bounds out of the chair as quickly as she sank in and begins scurrying furiously around the room. "That need not be, I have a quill around here somewhere.." Finally she stops by a tall pile of books in a corner. She crawls up a nearby stool to peer at the top of the stack. "Ah, here it is." Carefully, but not carefully enough, she reaches for the pen. In a flash of flailing arms and a flying skirt, she tumbles down onto the stack, causing even more of a mess than a certain young patron did earlier.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean quite like that!" Wiligar jitters just a bit as the librarian rushes about. "I would never just take such a splendiferous volume without authorisation... I guess I was just so enraptured I... oh dear!" The hobbit scurries to the pile upon which the Bracegirdle lies, sputtering in confusion. "Oh dear... uh... shall I help you up? I hate it when this happens..."

Oveila pulls herself up without much help, dusting off her hurt bottom. "Oh don't worry.. as you have seen, this tends to happen quite often." After glancing about a minute for the pen, she discovers it clutched in her white knuckles. "It'll just take me a second to right this down.." She limps out from among the spilled pile. "..and then you'll be on your way with the book..."

"Yes, of course, I'm so sorry..." The lawhobbit flushes and hurries back over to the bookcase. "I'm really very sorry about all the trouble I've caused you... I assure you, I'll be out of here as soon as I can and not bother you any longer..."

Strolling back to the table, She brandishes her hard-earned pen proudly. "You have not inconvienced me at all. In fact, I fill it has been rather the opposite." She quickly scrawls a bit down on the notepad. "I fear I have kept you too long from your much desired study." She considers for a bit and blushes almost sheepishly. "I'm sorry that I could not have made your visit to our great library more pleasant."

"Yes, of course... well, it's been a pleasure, of course... but I need to be off quite soon... I told my wife I'd be home by Sunday and already it's nearing evening..." Wiligar watches eagerly as Oveila writes down the necessary criteria.

"Well then, I most certainly will not keep you any longer." Oveila tucks the note under the book, promptly forgetting about it. "I would not have you face the wrath of your wife because of my clumsiness! Please, enjoy your book."