Hobbits were, by nature, a very calm and simple folk. They seemed to enjoy the simple things, such as the brewing of ale, the smoking of pipe weed and well tilled earth. They were very respectable creatures, they never went on any adventures or did anything unexpected at all. This is the story of the unsuspecting Hobbit who changed everything.
The green rolling hills of the Shire where peaceful in the early hours of the morning. The golden morning light was just starting to creep into the windows of a lavish but rather lonely Smial at the end of the road know as Bag-End. The inhabitants of which was just starting to stir in his bed, awoken by the irritating sunlight creeping in through his window.
Bilbo Baggins rolled over onto his back, eyes still stubbornly closed against the morning light. He let out an irritated sigh, resigning to the fact that the sun wouldn't go away just because he wanted it to. Bilbo let out another sigh and opened his eyes to look up at the ceiling of his cabin, except it wasn't the ceiling of his cabin but it was the ceiling of his old bedroom in Bag-End. He blinked. Then he realized that not only was this the wrong ceiling but his eyes seemed to be working better then they had in years. He sat up and looked around, his eyes fell on a mirror hanging on the open wardrobe door and what he saw reflected back at him made him gasp. He was staring at himself except it wasn't the face of an old man with wrinkles, grey hair and cloudy half-blind eyes. No, it was the smooth face of a hobbit with thick golden curls and clear amber eyes. Bilbo pinched himself hard on the arm to check that he wasn't dreaming, when he didn't suddenly wake up in his cabin, he realized this must be real. Though this did nothing but confuse him further, then he suddenly remembered an old tale he had once herd, about a maiden whose family had died tragically and she was somehow sent back in time to save them. Bilbo leapt from his bed (only briefly thinking about how agile he still was) and ran over to his calendar hastily checking the date.07/04. If this really was the date and he really wasn't dreaming then in a little less then a month Gandalf would be walking right up to his front door to take him on an adventure, an adventure with Thorin and Fili and kili and every other precious Dwarf he had lost. Bilbo broke down in sobs. He hand been given another chance! He had been given the chance to try and save his dwarves Bilbo's face split into a wide smile under his tears, allowing himself a moment to simply be grateful for opportunity he had been given.
But then that moment ended. Bilbo resolutely wiped his face free of tears. He had to prepare for the upcoming journey, a three weeks may seem like ample time but there was a lot he had to put in order before he left this time. He stalked out of his room and into his study, he sat down at his desk and grabbed a quill, ink pot, and parchment. First he wrote a letter to his cousin Drogo, asking him if he could look after Bag-End while he was gone and to not let the Sackville Baggins anywhere near it. Next he wrote his will, because even if he had survived last time there was no way to be sure he would this time. In the will he stated that he wanted Bag-End to go to Drogo and Primula, he wanted most of the books he owned to go to the library, he gave his garden over to the care of the Gamgee family, and last but not least he explicitly stated that he wanted nothing to go to any of his Sackville Baggins relatives.
Next he made a list of all the things he wanted to get done before his departure. The first thing to go on the list was to become a better fighter, although he had held his own farley well the first time round, he knew he could be a better warrior, how he was going to get better he didn't know, swords were hard to come by in the the Shire. Next thing on the list was to go to the tailors so he could get some new travel appropriate clothing. The last thing on the list was to attempt to be prepared for the arrival of his Dwarves, or at least prepared enough to not break down into sobbes at the first site of them. The Hobbit had a feeling that the next few weeks would be very interesting.
As it turns out finding a sword, or any other weapon, was even harder than Bilbo had anticipated. He ended up having to walk all the way to Bree before he found any trace of weaponry, but he did eventually find a suitable steel knife, though to him it was more like a short sword, in a small blacksmiths shop on the south end of Bree, he got many strange looks from man and Hobbit alike as he walked down the street with a sword and scabbard strapped to his belt. Well, he supposed it didn't really matter much, people had always thought him a bit odd.
Oh, how impossible it all seemed, Bilbo reflected as he sat in his comfy armchair by the fire having just returned from his trip to Bree, the whole idea of traveling back in time, being able to see Thorin again, oh, dear Thorin, how often had he prayed and wished and hoped that he could be granted one last chance to see him. The mere thought of seeing him again was enough to bring tears to his amber eyes. How much did he suffer after his loves death? how long did he greave? Much longer then he cared to remember. Bilbo was uncertain how he would react to seeing the king's face again but he knew it wouldn't be pretty, he just hoped he would be able to hold it together long enough for no one to get suspicious.
The Baggins suddenly thought of the letter he had sent to his cousin several day ago, specifically about the small fote note he had put in warning them not to go near any large body of water for the next several years, he wasn't naive, he knew what he was sacrafiing by writing something like that. Frodo. Bilbo knew that if his cousin and primula headed his warning and lived, he would never have the the same relationship with his dear nephew that he had first time. He had always been a very selfish Hobbit but he knew he simply couldn't deny Frodo the parents he so rightly deserved if he could help it.
The Hobbit glanced over at his new sword sitting comfortably by the door, getting a sword was one thing but practicing with it was another thing altogether; it had been a long time since he had fought after all and his skills were more than a bit rusty, well, supposed, that's what the practice was for.
This had to be one of his stupider ideas, Bilbo thought, sword in hand, as he stared at the wooden 'target' he had set up in his backyard. Gandalf would be showing up at his door in just 9 short days and the Hobbit had hardly practiced his swordsmanship at all. He had already gone down to the tailors some three days ago and there really wasn't much left for him to do but train, though he must admit that he felt a bit silly hitting a harmless post aimlessly with his small sword. Oh well.
Bilbo was panicking, just a little. Gandalf would be arriving in just a few hours and he still needed to go to the market, he couldn't believe he had forgotten something so important until the last minute.
The hobbit rushed down the streets of Hobbiton, mentally planing all the dishes he wanted to make for supper and then multiplying that by ten, if their was one thing he new about Dwarves it was that they could eat, a lot. They had emptied all his cupboards and larders the first time and Bilbo was determined not to let that happen this time.
For nearly two hours the Hobbit raded every food, every morsel, from every stall in the market, he got everything from chicken to blueberries. Glancing down at his pocket watch as he walked home with his groceries, Bilbo saw he only had twenty five minutes until Gandalf's arrival if he remembered right. Rushing up the street and through his round green door, the Hobbit dashed into the kitchen, hastily set down the food, grabbed his pipe and sat down on the bench outside the door and waited.
