Bella's POV

Today was my hundred and eleventh birthday and I knew now I had to tell him before I left. I had to tell him the truth about everything. I began to write a note in my book I hadn't finished it yet but I knew what I must do.

'My dear Frodo.

You asked me one once if I had told you everything there was to know about my adventures. And while I can honestly say I have told you the truth, I may not have told you all of it. I am old now, Frodo. I'm not the same Hobbit I once was. I think it is time for you to know what really happened. It began long ago in a land far away to the east, the like of which you will not find in the world today. There was the city of Dale. Its markets known far and wide, full of the bounties of vine and vale. Peaceful, and prosperous. For this city lay before the doors of the greatest kingdom in Middle-earth: Erebor. Stronghold of Thror, King under the Mountain, mightiest of the dwarf lords. Thror ruled with utter surety, never doubting his house would endure, for his line lay secure in the lives of his son and grandson." I began to think about him. The one an who had once held my heart. "Ahhh, Frodo, Erebor; built deep within the mountain itself, the beauty of this fortress city was legend. Its wealth lay in the earth, in precious gems hewed from rock, and in great seams of gold, running like rivers through stone. The skill of the dwarves was unequaled, fashioning objects of great beauty out of diamond, emerald, ruby, and sapphire. Ever they delved deeper, down into the dark. And that is where they found it. The heart of the mountain. The Arkenstone. Thror named it the King's Jewel. He took it as a sign, a sign that his his right to rule was divine. All would pay homage to him, even the great Elvenking, Thranduil." A flash of the silvery blonde hair of the elven king flashed in my mind. "But the years of peace and plenty were not to last. Slowly, the days turned sour, and the watchful nights closed in. Thror's love of gold had grown too fierce. A sickness had begun to grow within him; it was a sickness of the mind. And where sickness thrives, bad things will follow. The first they heard was a noise like a hurricane coming down from the north. The pines on the mountain creaked and cracked in a hot, dry wind. It was a fire drake from the north. Smaug had come. Such wanton death was dealt that day, for this city of men was nothing to Smaug; his eye was set on another prize. For dragons covet gold, with a dark and fierce desire. Erebor was lost, for a dragon will guard his plunder as long as he lives. Thranduil would not risk the lives of his kin against the wrath of the dragon. No help came from the elves that day, or any day since. Robbed of their homeland, the dwarves of Erebor wandered the wilderness, a once mighty people brought low. The young dwarf prince took work where he could find it, laboring in the villages of men, but always he remembered the mountain smoke beneath the moon, the trees like torches blazing bright, for he had seen dragon fire in the sky, and his city turned to ash, and never forgave, and he never forgot. That, my dear Frodo, is where I come in. For quite by chance, and the will of a Wizard, fate decided I would become part of this tale. It began, well, it began as you might expect. In a hole in the ground, there lived a Hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, full of worms and oozy smells; this was a Hobbit-hole, and that means good food, a warm hearth, and all the comforts of home."

Frodo walked in and I fell out of my trance of writing. My nephew handed me my mail.

"Thank you." I said and he smiled before looking at a portrait that was drawn of me many years ago.

"What's this?"He asked and I took it back.

"That is private. Keep your sticky paws off. It's not ready yet." I said.

"Not ready for what?"

"Reading."

"What on earth are these?" I asked looking at the letters.

"Replies to the party invitations."

"Oh! Good gracious! Is it today?"

"They all said they're coming. Except for the Sackville-Bagginses; they're demanding you ask them in person."

"Are they, indeed? Over my dead body."

"They'd probably find that quite agreeable! They seem to think you have tunnels overflowing with gold."

"It was one small chest, hardly overflowing. And it still smells of troll."I began to pack away various items to keep my cousin from taking them.

"What on earth are you doing?"Frodo asked.

"Taking precautions. You know, I caught her making off with the silverware once." I replied.

"Who?"

"Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. She had all my spoons stuffed in her pockets. Hah! Dreadful woman; make sure you keep an eye on her after I'm ... when I'm ... when I'm..." I halted I still hadn't told him I was leaving. Could I even tell him?

"When you're...what?"Frodo asked.

"It's nothing. Nothing."I replied walking off.

"You know, some people are beginning to wonder about you, Aunt. They think you're becoming odd."

"Odd? Hmm."

"Unsociable."

"Unsociable? Me? Nonsense. Be a good lad and put that on the gate." I handed him a sign that gave no admittance to the house except for business for the party. We both walked outside.

"You think he'll come?" Frodo asked.

"Who?"I asked in reply.

"Gandalf."

"Ahhh. He wouldn't miss a chance to lit up his whiz-poppers! He'll give us quite a show, you'll see."

"Alright then, I'm off."

"Off to where?"

"East Farthing woods. I'm going to surprise him."

"Well, go on then! You don't want to be late." I said and frodo ran off I was said to see him go for I knew I would still have to tell him the truth. I sat on my bench with my pipe. It wasn't very polite for young ladies of the shire to smoke but I had done it for years.

"He doesn't approve of being late. Not that I ever was." I thought to myself smiling. "In those days, I was always on time. I was entirely respectable. And nothing unexpected ever happened."