Hello!
Merrill here, and I just wanted to greet everyone that may choose to open this... So here we go, Hello!
Uh... Hope I did not make a fool of myself... But anyways, I wish you all a happy reading, and yes... I do appreciate your critique. But If you at all are able, please do keep it civil.
And thats it I guess.
Chapter 1
This tale reflects on the events that transpired when Bilbo Baggins of the Shire set out, on his last big adventure in the world this side of the sundering seas. Of the people he met, the sojourners he befriended and the enemies that he fought. The tale never was to become a part of the Red Book and amazingly enough, never even was penned down by the old hobbit, nay not even a lay.
Evening had fallen on Bag End and night, its ever present companion, had already started to creep out from all nooks and crannies and fill the air with its cool freshness. It erased the sharpness of shadows and corners and made distances seem long and mystical. Old Bilbo could feel the cold aching slightly in his bones, "I bet my walking stick there will be fog on the downs this night." he murmured, and tryingly hit said walking stick hard against one of the big stones lining the road, leading past the hill and out to the miller's bridge, away from Hobbiton, away from his so cherished home.
The dry hard thump of the hardwood stick satisfied him, it felt good to know that one had a sturdy walking stick by one's side, its carved handle felt soft to his hand, polished to a shine by many and many years of unfailing use. Bilbo, who took delight in such things, had of course, under the years, accumulated quite an impressive collection of good sturdy sticks and staffs for wandering and walking. Some were carven with intricate, even a bit arcane, runes and funny looking symbols. Whilst other were just simple sticks that looked like something one could pick up from the road curb, in fact many of them were just that. Bilbo had never under his long life quite gotten rid of a tenacious desire to hold onto things, especially things he himself especially fancied. So no matter use or disuse, his personal "walking stick collection" just had kept on to grow and grow, until it occupied a good whole rack besides the door and several shelves of storage in one of the hill's big store rooms.
And now it all shalt go to Frodo. The thought brought a sigh to the old Hobbits lips; to his own great joy, a sigh of relief. He felt so much lighter now, when all of his surplus possessions, un-needed luxuries and anything but bare necessities were stripped away from him. A pretty uncomfortable talk to his old wizard friend just minutes before, and the parting with a certain, precious, artefact… Yes, Bilbo was certain now, standing there, breathing in and listening to the night's first flirtatious smells and sounds, letting them clear his head. Yes, it was with the parting from this thing he had held onto for so long, that the real feeling of lightness had started to fill him.
He wanted to thank Gandalf, thank the old trusty wizard for this opportunity. For supporting his seemingly crazy venture and being there to for him to talk to, if not often, then at times when it really counted. Especially now, for finally helping him to truly be free of all the things that had held him down for so, so long. But Bilbo knew, knew deeply in his heart that Gandalf did not need to hear him say all that. At least not right now, for he was certain the wizard was already aware of all the things and the feelings that Bilbo harboured towards him. And that one day, he would have an opportunity to once more sit down with his old friend and talk about it all. Maybe even talk about things that yet were to come.
Baggins shrugged, the chill was now getting quite palpable on the night's cooling air, and his breath was almost starting to plume before him, as it would do in later autumn or during the harsh cold months of winter.
"Shall we be getting on our way then, master Baggins?" The voice was hardy and had a deep steely ring to it, as if the speaker was used to have it ring forth in echoing halls and have legions jump to attention ready to eagerly follow his every command.
The voices owner, a stocky, wide framed dwarf with a gorgeously braided dark beard and cleanly shaven head stood suddenly at the old hobbits side, his appearance there was almost instant and to human senses it would have seemed that he just materialized out of the darkening night. But it was hardly so for a hobbits acute perception, all though old, (111 to be exact) Bilbo Baggins had not yet lost neither his hearing or clear sight. He had heard the broad powerful dwarfs approach, and would even go as far as to call it a "lumbering approach".
Besides, he could clearly see how the lights from Bag End, and from the valley below, reflected in the shining brass ornaments woven into his dark beard and danced on the many superbly crafted silver plates lining the dwarfs thick leather weapons belt. This was not mentioning the glimmer of the dwarf's eyes, and that the creaking of his boots and his breathing sounded almost as loudly as a minor bellow, hard at work.
So to Bilbo, the dwarfs approach was not a surprise, nay not a surprise indeed.
"Me and the rest of us lads are getting a bit… Err, impatient." the dwarf went on heartily as if not necessitating Bilbo to take up the conversation for it to continue.
"Old Darin is starting to go on about the virtues of a good warm meal and soft bed, and again eludes to the comforts and hominess of your local fine establishment, that "Green Dragon". The rest of the lads are not that eager to succumb to this early repose, especially after our fine time as guests of your house master Hobbit. But then the old geezer mentioned that the majority of that fancy ale we had our fill of just earlier in this nice evening was supplied from said Green Dragon.
"Now my lads, being what they are, start to slowly but surely give in to the old fellas manipulating, and if you really want us to be able to get away from this piece of traveller's paradise on Middle Earth we should get going, and expediently so."
"I see your point dear Ari, and have many thanks for thine quick warning that there already were insurrection and devious plots brewing in our little group. And that even before we left the porch of my very home."
Bilbo made a mock shocked and indignant expression in the direction of the other dwarves, standing a bit away further down the road descending from the hill. Even from here he could see them violently gesturing and arguing over something. He also noted how one particularly long and white beard swayed precariously in the light of the quickly rising pale moon.
"Better I go and sort out this brewing dispute" Bilbo said with a smirk towards Ari, and grasping his stick firmly in one hand whilst correcting his backpacks strap with the other, decisively walked down towards the small heap of dwarfs who were standing together on the roadside. Ari, sharing a short smile with the hobbit, fell into step beside him, looking with great enjoyment up at the now clearly visible, pale constellations above them.
"…Besides there will surely be a fair deal of singing there, before the night is over" A younger dwarf with a short red beard interloped exactly as Bilbo came up unto the small company.
"Singing or no singing, I tell you all once more, the finest softest beds I ever tried!" said the older dwarf with the white almost knee long beard."
"And the ale! Do not omit the ale Darin!" An extremely broad dwarf interceded, brandishing a stick as if it were an axe.
"Yes, the fine ale that blessed master Baggins has been so generous with during our stay at his home is from this establishment" continued the white bearded Darin in a firm voice. "I myself tasted it there several years ago whilst I was visiting our host with Balin, we stayed at the "Green Dragon" tis was but for a night…"
At this point Bilbo found it prudent to stop Darin's tale in its tracks, since a majority of the younger dwarfs by this time already were more than half convinced of the idea presented to them. And meeting the suggested stay of a night longer in "civilization" with small cheers, and shouts along the lines of "Listen to Darin!" and "Hear, hear!" and what disturbed Bilbo's plans for the night most "Let's have at them soft beds lads!"
"Dear master dwarves!" Bilbo said in a decisive tone of voice, every bearded face directly turned toward him in and he could very well see all their eyes glistening animatedly in the dark from under their many coloured hoods.
"My most trusty companions, and here I thought that I was the one who had the softest beds in the whole of the Shire, I dare say I even recall you master Darin praising them to be "the softest bolsters in the land".
"And now, hardly minutes since you left the shelter of Bag End, you already are ready to betray your word and call other beads and bolsters more soft and luscious then mine? I am fairly certain that every one of the beds in every one of my five guest rooms are now feeling mortified and betrayed to the core. Is that really what you want to stand for Master Dwarf? "
At this there was heard a snort of supressed laughter from all the younger dwarves, whilst Darin looked down unto the ground straight in front of his solid ironclad boots, and a grim expression of resolve dawned upon his broad friendly face.
"Aye you speak truly master Baggins", he said looking up at the short little hobbit standing almost straight before him.
"It does not befit me or any of us here to in any way diminish the splendour of your fine home, or the great hospitality with we have now and always been treated at your table."
"But that was neither my intention." He added after a short silence, scratched his rich head of snow white hair and continued.
" In truth I just wanted to once more drink my fill of your prime Hobbiton Ale, before we once more would set of to the Mountain…" at the old Dwarf trailed off in silence and looked at Bilbo, and later round about the rest of the small company of Dwarves that were now tightly surrounding them.
"Master Darin, I am happy to hear that your appreciation for our simple local beverage is indeed so high," said Bilbo in a mischievous tone "And that you would go so far as to attempt to stall our very departure just for some pints of it." He added in a sterner tone.
"But have no fear, my good friend. What did you reckon was packed to travel with us in the casks on the back of one of your four splendid ponies?"
"Salted Pork?" one of the younger dwarves interceded and looked searchingly at Bilbo whilst hooking a thumb behind his broad belt. This particular dwarf had a dark brown beard and always maintained to keep his heavy mining pick on his belt at all times. Bilbo was fairly certain that his name was Mimer.
"No," Bilbo said firmly. "We will not have any salted pork on this venture! At least not if I will have anything to do with that. Since on my last journey it made up the majority of our food supply, at the occasions when we at all actually had any food supply."
The thought made him wince inside, this was a facet of wandering he had, during the many well feed and calm years in his home all but forgotten. But he firmly decided to push it aside for now. For he was more than firmly convinced in the fact that he on this venture would not have to go hungry.
"So if not salted pork, then these small cute casks in fact are filled with…" Mimer continued his chain of thought, but not fast enough for Bilbo.
"Yes! They are in fact the last, four casks of Hobbit brewed Ale left in the shire" Bilbo said loudly with pleasure noting the changed looks on his companions faces when he saw the message sink in.
"The last?" Darin said in a voice filled with disbelief and something Bilbo almost wanted to categorize as awe.
"Yes indeed the very last, or at the very least the very last for some weeks to come master dwarf" Bilbo promptly replied.
"The orders placed for my party's supplies emptied the cellars of not only the Green dragon but many a granary and pub around the Shire. They will resupply given time off course but at the present I fear that our small expedition force is the most well supplied in the whole of the Five Farthings, at least when it comes down to food and refreshments."
He could almost feel how the mood in the huddle of dwarves around him instantly changed, backpacks were tightened, belts adjusted and shoes eagerly stomped into the ground as to make sure of a good and comfy fit.
"What are we then waiting for!?" Darin bellowed out to the rest of the dwarves, "Let us depart, quickly now lads! So we can set up camp soon, and as far away from prying eyes as possible! Aah, I can already see the boar roasting on the stake!"
"All that is well and good", Ari cheerfully said patting the old dwarf on the shoulder whilst the others around them already were lining up in a column on the road to depart.
"But I do not remember master Bilbo giving any instructions of packing down any boar meat in our provisions,"
"Well of course he did not, the old money-grubbing burglar that he is! Darin said, winking at Bilbo who, in his turn scoffed back in mock insult.
"It just means you younger lads will have to catch it for us first!"
This found a great deal of support in the column of dwarves, and they eagerly started to move, towards the start of their great journey.
"Let Ari and master Baggins go first in the ranks!" "Yes let them lead us" was echoed throughout the column, and after a short glance between one and other Bilbo and Ari started to make their way towards the head of the silent snake that was the column of dwarves. Disappearing into the darkening shade of night.
It feels so good, being out on the road again, the thought flashed through Bilbo Baggins mind, clear as a flash of lightning.
Once more out on the road, with dwarves, under the light of the stars.
He felt himself become one with the road yet again, and could truly enjoy the night closing in all around him, he felt safe and at home here, marching amongst steady companions and honest friends.
"This will be a good night to lay some miles behind us" Ari said quietly to the hobbit, as the whole group silently vanished from sight.
And not one of them knew, at this time, except for maybe Bilbo himself, that this was the last time that any one of them ever would see the shire again.
