In The Shadows:

Middle Earth

It was the day before the 111st birthday of Bilbo Baggins. It was also the 33rd birthday of his cousin Frodo Baggins. This day would change the course of history in the world & mark the beginning of the end of the Age….

Bilbo & his long time friend, Gandalf sat idly chatting and smoking on the front porch of Bag End. The day was sunny and pleasantly warm. A light breeze went across the front lawn bringing with it the scent of the bakery just down the road.

As Bilbo continued with a joke he was telling, Gandalf sat up suddenly, listening. "There's a storm coming…" he mused.

"Nonsense!" Bilbo protested. "It's beautiful out today!"

"No…" As soon as this word was spoken, a gusty wind from the west blew a dark cloud over the town of Hobbiton.

"Gandalf?" Bilbo asked, becoming afraid now. Gandalf was silent. Watching. Waiting.

"There…" Gandalf murmured, pointing down the road. He stood quietly, a steady hand rested on his staff. Bilbo followed the Wizard's gaze.

A tall, dark figure, dressed solely in black, was slowly advancing down the windy path. A hood was over his head, and a dark mist covered his face obscuring the features. In the wind, a black cloak billowed behind him.

"Who goes there?" Gandalf called to the figure threateningly. The dark man was silent. "Be you friend or foe?" He just kept walking slowly. Advancing around Bilbo's little garden & through his tiny gate, the man strode, still silently, up to the porch. Gandalf was now defensively placed between the newcomer & Bilbo with his staff poised. "HALT!" this time, the figure obeyed. He stood less than five feet from Gandalf. With fluid motions, a gloved hand reached out with a piece of paper. Gandalf took it warily.

There was a note on the paper, written in bold, but delicately flowing handwriting:

Gandalf the Grey,

You are wrong. A storm is not coming, a storm is already upon you. Look for me in days to come, but hope you do not find me.

There was no signature. Slightly shaken, Gandalf looked up for some sort of an explanation, but when he looked up, the man was gone. The storm was gone as well. It was as if nothing had happened at all. Turning around, it was confirmed that he hadn't imagined the man. Bilbo was frozen in his chair. A look of absolute horror was seemingly plastered in his wide eyes. Gandalf's hand closed & another reminder came from the dull crunch of the paper that was clutched in it…..