Just the Beginning

It was a beautiful and sunny Tuesday eve. Bilbo was sitting outside, drawing the first breath on his pipe in a long time. He was settling down now, getting reacquainted with the simple, quiet life he had been accustomed to for so long.

For, just a few short months ago, Bilbo was not just Bilbo the Hobbit. He was very much more than that. He was Bilbo the burglar, the riddler, the barrel rider, the sting. He was a Took-ish adventurer. Now this may require some explanation, you see, because all of this means nothing unless you know this hobbit's story. Bilbo had joined thirteen dwarves in a quest to recover a fantastic treasure. But a very fiendish creature guarded this treasure. The great dragon Smaug had laid claim to this hoard of gold and silver many years ago, after he had usurped it from Thrain, one of the dwarves' ancestors. So Bilbo and his companions made the trek across middle-earth, facing trolls, goblins, riddling-creatures, skin-changers, spiders, elves, and wargs, all the while, facing little food, harsh weather conditions, and the worst of all: uncertainty. Very unfortunate circumstances, wouldn't you say? But that was a thing of the past. The adventure is over.

Now, Bilbo felt content, and enjoyed the serenity of Bag-End.

He had just sat down to blow a good smoke-ring, when he remembered the events preceding his last adventure. He was sitting, just outside his hobbit hole, when a strange man came by, arguing with Bilbo over a greeting. But surely lightening never strikes twice in the same place, agreed? So despite some misgivings, the little hobbit blew a beautiful big smoke ring out of his pipe.

After the better part of an hour had passed him by, and his second breakfast had worn off, Bilbo had felt foolish worrying about the morning.

"Certainly no vagabonds were in search of a Burglar for another quest today," he had reassured himself.

It was then, that Bilbo had noticed a man slowly ascending the slanted path that led to his door. As quickly as he could, Bilbo packed up his things and scrambled into his home. "Not taking any chances this time!" Bilbo muttered to himself in severe panic. But before he had escaped into his hole, he noticed the man was carrying something small, but nonetheless could not make out quite what it was.

"Oh well. All the better for me to stay out of it," Bilbo thought to himself. And he was right. Staying out of adventures was the way for a hobbit.

Bilbo waited and waited to be sure the coast was clear. He decided after a few minutes time, that it would be safe to look outside so he slowly opened the door. Poking his head out, he found that he was quite right; there was no one there. Very peculiar as it was, there was no one anywhere near Bag-End, as a matter of fact.

"I couldn't have been gone more than a few short minutes! Surely I would be able to see a character walking in the distance. Oh me, oh my. I need a splash of water to bring me back to my senses," he whispered to himself, very disheveled. As he went to make his way back inside, something shiny caught his eye. "What's this, I wonder? An enveloped addressed 'Mr. Bilbo Baggins, Bag-End, Over the Hill.' Was this perchance what the stranger was carrying?"

So as all curious creatures do, he carried the letter inside and set it on his table. He put a kettle on the stove and went to the cupboard to fetch a couple cakes. All of the excitement that morning had quite hungered Bilbo.

"Now for the matter of that letter I found," Bilbo said quietly to himself as he picked the letter up. He carefully broke the seal and unfolded the small note to see some very elegant writing. The letter said:

Dr. Mr. Baggins,

It has been brought to my attention that you possess a very unique skill. It is not common to find a companion with the increasing levels of stealth and secrecy that you exhibit, and I wish to have a sit with you to discuss a very grave and serious matter. I cannot say much in this note, for too much information in the wrong hands is like sharing secrets with the devil. All I can tell you is that the fate of Middle-Earth may be in (or on) your hands. Meet me at The Prancing Pony in Bree before the sun sets tomorrow. We shall discuss the item of business then. Until that time, I ask that you speak to no one of this letter and come alone. Farewell, Mr. Baggins.

Signed,

Arathorn

"The fate of Middle-Earth may be in or on my hands?" Bilbo inquired, examining his right and left hands. "What on earth could that possibly mean? And who is this Arathorn that beckons me to the tavern?"

Now remembering Bilbo's last adventure, you would think he would mind his business and stay put. But his curiosity got the better of him, and the hobbit packed his things. For despite Bree being just across the river, it was still a few hours walk.

As shadows grew long, Bilbo made his way into the town of Bree. Always buzzing with gossip and bustling with business here or there, Bree was one of the larger towns in the east. It had once been beautiful, green plains, but that was many years ago, before a group of men had seen the visions of a future town.

Bilbo walked straight into town and was taken aback to see so many people gathered around the bell in the center of town. As he looked around, he could see many outlandish decorations. Confused, he asked the nearest citizen, "Um, excuse me good sir. Is there a celebration today?"

"Why of course!" exclaimed the stranger, "our mid-summer celebration is here!"

"Ah! The midsummer celebration, how could I have forgotten! Well carry on then!" Bilbo replied.

He stared on, longing to be part of the celebration, but remembered his business in Bree, and made his way into the Prancing Pony. As he opened the door, a loud voice echoed "Ah! Mr. Baggins." This caused Bilbo to jump and quickly he looked around the pub. An unkempt figure had stepped out of a dark corner and into the light. "I am Arathorn, King of my people. I have heard a great deal about you Sir Bilbo," the stranger said.

"A great deal indeed, according to your note. For a King I would presume you would be complete with crown and staff. What bothers you so?" Bilbo asked.

"Well that is actually what I have called you here for Bilbo. Have a seat," Arathorn instructed. Bilbo grabbed the nearest stool. "Care for a pint?" the king asked.

"Yes, very much so," Bilbo answered.

"Bilbo, I understand you are quite the adventurer as of late. Gandalf the Grey has told me many a story of your skill and precision as a burglar. But most of all, he has informed that you offer the most important tool of all: information. Bilbo, I do not know if you are aware, but there is great trouble in Middle-Earth," Arathorn said, as Bilbo shook his head. "That ring of yours, do you know much about it?"

"Only that it turns its wearer invisible. Why? Is there more to it than that?" Bilbo inquired.

"It is more than just an invisibility ring, Bilbo. It's a ring of power. The ring of power, as a matter of fact. It was forged with the power to control all of the other rings made by its creator. That very ring is the reason for our troubles. Middle-Earth is at war. There are three dragons, all creatures of Sauron's army, and they are doing what they can to secure as much power as possible for Sauron."

"But there was only one dragon, Smaug!" Bilbo said hastily.

"So we thought. Smaug was only one of the three, Bilbo. News of his death reached the other two dragons very quickly. And fortunately for us, Smaug posed only a minor threat. The absence of the scale over his left breast is what allowed the captain of my archers, Bard, to bring about his end. If it weren't for that, however, the dragon would be nearly impossible to defeat."

"Well how are we supposed to slay the other two if it is impossible? And how do I contribute to all of this? Bilbo asked.

"I said nearly impossible. There is a way to defeat them, and that the first way you can contribute. There is only one set of armor and one brilliant sword strong enough to defeat the two dragons. Legend says that united, the sword is strong enough to bring down even the strongest foe, and the armor brings invincibility to he who bears it. But separated, neither is at all useful. Bilbo, we must find this sword and the accompanying armor. It is the only way we can bring peace to Middle-Earth once again," Arathorn continued.

"And my ring…how is it of use?" Bilbo questioned.

"Along with the sword and the armor, the legend also describes a golden ring. This golden ring is said to emanate a brilliant light; dim when farther away from each item, but bright when close. We don't know exactly how close one would have to be, or how far away for that matter. But it's our only chance, Bilbo. Will you help us? Will you declare yourself a burglar once again?" the king pleaded.

"Yes," Bilbo said very confidently, "Sir Arathorn, I would wish nothing less. When do we set off?"

"The end of the week, Bilbo. I will send someone along with a pony to collect you and your things and he will lead you to my castle. I have invited the many different leaders there to meet with one another and discuss our strategy. For now, just rest up, it will be a long and merciless journey," Arathorn said with a nod.

And with that, Bilbo ventured home. He went to enjoy his hobbit-hole one last time. For he knew that the return journey home may end up not happening.

As the end of the week approached, the hobbit had packed his things into two trunks and set them by the front door. He placed a note on the mantel that read:

Lobelia Sackville-Baggins,

So as not to have confusion this time, my estate and all of its belongings belong to me. They will be taken care of on their own, so please keep your business out of mine.

Much appreciated,

Bilbo Baggins.

Arathorn's soldier came promptly Saturday morning. Bilbo loaded up his things on the strong pony and saddled himself. As he and the soldier rode away, Bilbo couldn't help but turn and watch Bag-End get smaller and smaller. His thoughts became sad, but a new hope had arisen in him that he had not experienced before. He felt the need to be strong, and the desire to be fierce. And with a final nod, he bade goodbye to the hill and Bag-End. New journeys were ahead and new stories to be written. This was just the beginning.