It seems I will never leave the Hobbit fandom, haha :) I have been struggling to write lately so I'm just trying to write a few one shots to get back into the flow of things. Enjoy!

*Everything belongs to the wonderful Tolkien*


Dusk had fallen over the Shire, with the pinks and oranges of the sky running across the horizon after the retreating sun. Deep purples and navy blues filled the space between, allowing the stars to shine as they looked down upon the rolling hills. Tiny orange balls of light mimicked their counterparts in the night sky, shining light for those folk who lived within the hills of the Shire.

The Green Dragon was lit up like a Christmas tree, and those within were probably just as merry as if it were. The sounds were muffled from the outside, however. All that could be heard across the greenness were the insects chirping in amongst the grasses and shrubs that outlined the path into Hobbiton. Smaller plants such as flowers and vegetable patches were found much closer to the homes of the inhabitants here.

The homes were not extravagant like those that were built by and belonged to the Elves, nor were they carved out of stone and rock like those that the Dwarves dwelled. They were smaller and much cosier, but by no means less extraordinary. Their Hobbit Holes, as they were called, begun with vividly coloured, perfectly rounded doors, with intricate little windows on either side of the door. The most impressive part about these little homes was the fact that each one was nestled into the rolling hills that stretched ever onwards. Each one lay half-hidden within their surroundings, existing amongst the richness of the ground but also standing boldly out on their own.

The beauty of these homes was barely regarded by a large group of unanticipated visitors, as they made their way up the main path into Hobbiton. The only regard that was shown towards the homey architecture was finding a particular marking on one of the doors.

"Is this the mark we are looking for?" Ori asked for perhaps the thousandth time since they had arrived in the Shire. The question was answered by frustrated sighs and groans.

"For the love of Mahal, Ori, you will know it when you see it!" Gloin huffed.

"But how will I know if I've seen it if I don't know what I am trying to find!" Ori moaned in response.

More groaning ensued.

"It will look like the mark of a Wizard! Gandalf ensured that he left a mark upon the door of the burglar," Nori explained with slightly more patience than the rest of their travelling companions.

"We have been looking for hours and I am positively starved!" Bombur cried out, something akin to fear in his voice, as though missing out on dinner would be the end of him.

"Oh, come on you lot! Complaining isn't going to fill our bellies!" Bofur exclaimed, the typical optimism in his voice noticeably absent.

The complaining did not stop for many more minutes, and unbeknownst to the company, the Wizard in question was following behind, at a reasonable distance, so that he could listen to the riffraff without the chuckles giving himself away.

The company were also oblivious to the racket they were causing. Hobbit folk were peering out their windows, unwilling to open their homes to the strange men who were stamping and stomping and groaning their way through Hobbiton. Most were giving disapproving stares, though the children who were old enough and tall enough to reach the sills were excitedly chatting away and wondering whether these strangers had any fireworks to light for them.

Ori had just opened his mouth to ask for the thousandth and first time whether a mark, which looked suspiciously more like bird excrement, was the Wizards mark or not, when Nori cried out.

"Look! There! That must be Gandalf's mark!" Nori followed the path right, opened an ajar gate and scrambled up the stone steps that led to another round door, this one a rich moss green in colour. However, it was a small, glowing blue Mark that had caught the thief's attention, several straight lines intersecting together.

"So that is a Wizards mark!" Ori exclaimed, quickly pulling a notebook from a pocket within his furs and scribbling it down for future reference.

Nori quickly reached the top of the stone steps and examined the mark, followed by Ori who had stored his notebook safely away. Before either of them could knock on the door, Bombur came bounding up the steps, following his nose, the smell of potatoes and fish making his mouth salivate.

His belly pushed Nori and Ori into the door, their yells and shouts at the robust Dwarf doing nothing to deter their hungry friend. Bombur pulled on the bell chain by the front door, eager to enter and fill his empty stomach.

"Bombur! Move, why don't you!" Nori exclaimed, pushing him back.

Bofur climbed to the landing in front of the door, yelling back at Nori, but further cramping the already limited space.

"Shut it, Nori!" Pushing and shoving ensued, which encouraged the rest of the company to join in on their hunger and exhaustion fuelled annoyances.

"Stop shoving!" Cried Ori, squashed against the door.

"Lads, this is no way to greet our burglar!" Oin chastised, his hearing aid knocked from his hands by the commotion.

"Oi! Get your elbow out of my ribs!" Yelled Dori, shoving back against Gloin.

The company were positively too close for comfort at this point; Ori, Nori, Bombur and Bofur were crushed against the green door. Gloin, Bifur, Dori and Oin were pushing against the others and each other, complaining and shouting and groaning at one another to stop.

It was almost too much for Ori, until suddenly his vision spun and all he saw was a blur of gold as he fell to the ground, with a dozen knees, elbows and bellies landing squarely on top of him.

A wave a groaning and complaining ensued and did not cease, even when they had gathered their wits and stood themselves upright to face their burglar.

It seemed that their foul moods would be put to shame by this blonde little man, who was the first to realise the presence of the Wizard in their company, watching all of the commotion with amusement.

All it took was one word, and the wizard knew that he had quite a lot of explaining, or apologising to do.

"Gandalf."