[Morthoron]

Given Peter Jackson's need to make the Aragorn/Arwen relationship a centerpiece story arc for Lord of the Rings, then it is obvious that Bilbo Baggins needs a love interest in order to appeal to a wider demographic of movie-goers. After all, one can't offer a Hollywood movie with merely a Hobbit and a few grumpy dwarves. I once speculated on how Bilbo's lover would appear:

Bilbo awoke the next morning with a pounding headache. All through the night, the dwarves and Gandalf had spoken in low whispers regarding the far-off Lonely Mountain, of Smaug the dragon, and the burgling of Dwarvish treasure that was to be done by the reluctant Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins -- a burglar? The very idea was preposterous! The Bagginses were respectable and did not stoop to thievery. Oh sure, they occasionally cheated peasants out of their land through dubious foreclosure methods, or bumped off their opponents on the Shire Council with toxic elderberry tarts, but these were white-collar crimes. So what if another Took went off on an ‘adventure’ and was never heard of again? It’s not as if anyone really missed any of those inane eccentrics.

Bilbo’s headache abated a bit as he snuggled against his plush pillow and sank deeper into his four-poster feather bed. The dwarves and Gandalf had left hours ago, and all was now peacefully quiet. Perhaps, just perhaps, none of the previous night’s antics had ever happened!

“That’s it!” Bilbo murmured, to no one in particular. “It was all a bad dream -- probably brought on by an undigested bit of beef.”

But Bilbo suddenly got the sinking feeling he was not alone in his chambers. He very carefully attempted to squint out of one eye, but found it was sealed shut with that gooey sleep stuff that acts as mucousy cement in the morning. Cursed allergies! He sighed and rubbed the gunk out of his eyes. There before him stood a scantily clad hobbit-maid bearing a tray with hot tea and a steaming breakfast.

“Hello...who are you?” Bilbo gasped.

“Don't be silly, dear Bilbo!” the lovely vision said, “I am Bawdy...Bawdy Brandybuck, the contractually obligatory Hollywood love-interest. One cannot very well have an epic movie now-a-days without a love interest, even if it has no bearing on the story itself, nor has anything whatsoever to do with the original plot.

“I see,” Bilbo said groggily, still getting his bearings. “But wait, isn’t this a book?”

“Oh, it is merely a book now, silly Bilbo,” Bawdy chattered cheerfully, “but eventually the author will sell all the movie rights to pay back taxes, never dreaming that someday a big-budget feature film will be made after he is dead. Oh, he will be irate! Or rather, he would be irate had he lived to see it; or not see it, rather, as it would probably kill him in any case.”

Bilbo, entranced as he was with Bawdy’s cleavage, had heard sounds that seemed to be words emanating from an aperture somewhere above Bawdy’s neck. “I’m sorry,” he said, finally managing with a tremendous effort to bring his eyes up to her face, “did you say you were my love interest?”

“Yes, and I've practiced my forlorn, teary-eyed face all weekend for when you depart on your silly adventure. See?” Bawdy passed her hand across her face, and voila! She was all forlorn and teary-eyed.

‘Ah, of course,” Bilbo smiled wanly, trying to show enthusiasm, “nicely done.”

“Oh, thank you.” Bawdy beamed. “One can almost sense me pining, can't one?”

“Certainly,” Bilbo replied.

“Would you like to see the winsome, sultry face I'll be doing for the flashback sequences?”

“No, that won't be necessary. Look, who did you say you were again?”

“I am Bawdy Brandybuck, your cousin twice removed on your mother's side, and thrice removed on your father's. I guess you could say I have a little of you in me from both ends.” She then smiled wistfully.

Bilbo, with mouth agape, managed to mumble, “Right.”

Bawdy fumbled about her nightie, desperately searching for something. “Oh dear, I had almost forgotten, Gandalf left you a letter...”

Bilbo snatched the letter from Bawdy and quickly ripped it open. Yes, the letter was certainly from Gandalf, as the bold scrawl attested. Bilbo read it earnestly, assisted by an overdub of Gandalf’s voice (again, for the future film rights):

“My Dearest Bilbo: By now you will have realized that last night was not, in fact, a dream, but rather the beginning of a long, hard road...”

As Bilbo tried valiantly to read, Bawdy tousled his hair.

“....we shall endeavor to throttle the serpent with both hands...”

Bawdy began to caress Bilbo's leg and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek.

“…We must come at it with everything we've got...”

Bawdy playfully bit Bilbo's neck.

“…We shall not finish until the deed is done...”

Bilbo reached over to kiss Bawdy.

“BILBO! ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION?”

Bilbo snapped out of his reverie with a jerk and resumed reading.

“Now, you are already late, it's almost noon and the dwarves and I have already started our march. You must leave immediately!”

“Drat!” Bilbo fumed and he was about to crumple up the letter.

“….AND NO BACK TALK!”

Bilbo sighed, pushed Bawdy aside and hurriedly started dressing.

Bawdy was quite distressed. “But Bilbo dear, you can't go yet...we haven't...haven't...”

“Haven't what?” Bilbo said distractedly as he pulled on his breeches.

“We haven't...bumped uglies.”

Bilbo replied agitatedly, “Well, I'm sorry, m’dear; I've no time for bumping uglies or bumping anything else for that matter. Gandalf is a wizard, after all, and he's far too dangerous when he is angered. Now, goodbye my dear, I must run!”

“BILBO!” Bawdy cried, giving her best forlorn, teary-eyed face. But Bilbo had run out the door without so much as a good-bye.

“Well, if that don't beat all!” Bawdy sighed as she lay back in bed. She bit her lip pensively as if she were waiting for something. After a few moments, she cried out, “Alright Gaffer, you can come out now.”

From a great wooden wardrobe in the corner of the room, Gaffer Gamgee swung open the doors and jumped onto the bed, falling into the waiting arms of Bawdy Brandybuck.