60 years earlier, a much younger and less grey wrinkled Bilbo Baggins sat on his garden bench overlooking the rolling hills and burrows that made up the Shire. He was smoking his long pipe while enjoying the sun on his face. All was well with his world.
Until a puff of smoke went up his nostril causing him to cough. Upon opening his eyes, in front of him stood an elderly man in a tall dark grey woolen robe, long grey beard, and matching pointed hat that learned to the side.
Bilbo did the only thing any respectable Hobbit would do. He wished the traveling man good morning.
"Good morning? Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not?" The older man questioned, his long beard trembling as he spoke, leaning against his walking staff.
"Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning? Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"
Baffled by the odd line of questioning, Bible replied "All of them at once, I suppose."
"Hmm. . ." the older man replied in a noncommittal tone.
"Can I help you?" Bilbo asked after several moments of silence.
"That remains to be seen. I am looking for someone to share in an adventure."
"An adventure?" No, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures." Bilbo snarkly stated, pointing with his pipe. "Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner." He continued, checking his mail while chuckling. Every so often Bilbo would look over back from his mail to the man before returning to his mail, hoping to signal an end to the uncomfortable conversation.
"Well. . . Good morning" Bilbo said once more before turning his back on the older man to walk up his steps to his front door.
"To think that I should have lived to be "'Good morninged'" by Belladonna Took's son as if I were selling buttons at the door!" Gandalf exclaimed, frustrated.
"Beg your pardon?"
"You've changed, and not entirely for the better Bilbo Baggins."
"I'm sorry, do I know you?"
Well, you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it. I'm Gandalf. And Gandalf means. . . Me."
"Gandalf? Gandalf the wizard who mad such excellent fireworks? Old Took used to have them on midsummer's eve." He chuckeled with recognition before clearing his throat. "No idea you were still in business."
"And where else should I be?"
Bilbo chuckled before coughing on his own spit in his throat. He grabbed a puff of his pipe instead of answering after that.
"Well, I'm pleased to find you remember something about me even if it's only my fireworks. Yes, well that's decided. It'll be very good for you" Gandalf stated while pointing at the small Hobbit before continuing "and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others."
"Inform the who? No- no. w-wait. We do not want any adventures here, thank you." Bilbo stated frantically while running up the rest of his stairs with his bare hairy feet. "Not today. Not. . . I suggest you try over the hill or across the water." He motioned with his pipe again down the lane.
"Good morning" Bilbo said one last time before shutting the door and locking it up tight.
Bilbo didn't trust the older man at the door, so he listened before hiding away.
No adventures here, thank you very much. Instead, Bilbo decided the only thing to do was to go off in search of ingredients for his dinner that evening while wearing his favorite blue tunic covering and breeches. His auburn curls danced in the wind as he made his way.
Neighbors shouted their good mornings at him while he walked over the well-worn path to town, the smell of flowers filling the air along with the cries of farm animals.
Town was filled with laughter, children dancing, and the sounds of home. Why would Bilbo ever want to leave this for some uncomfortable adventure?
He bought his fish and conversed with fellow townsfolk, never once feeling at ease after dealing with Gandalf.
Later that evening after his dinner had been cooked to perfection, his favorite evening coat wrapped around him, and ale perfectly chilled ready for the first sip, Bilbo finally felt like he could relax.
Sitting down, he tucked his napkin into his shirt, squeezed his lemon across his fish, and then it happened.
The worst imaginable thing.
Someone was at the door.
Bilbo looked up, disgruntled at having been interrupted during dinner. Who would be rude enough to come calling at this time of night? Nobody respectable, that was for sure.
Putting his napkin down on the table, Bilbo left to get the door. It wouldn't do to leave a guest standing outside no matter how rude they were at having chosen now to arrive.
Upon opening the door, a slightly taller, well built Dwarf became visible in his brown cloak. His head was bald on the top but had plenty of hair on the sides that mixed into his brownish red beard. His face was stern, and weather worn.
"Dwalin" the intruder stated in a rough voice. "At your service." He bowed afterwards.
Bilbo was confused, quickly trying his house coat closed before introducing himself.
"Bilbo Baggins. . . At yours. Do we know each other?" He began but Dwalin had started walking into his hole.
"No."
The Dwarf took off his traveling cloak, revealing a fur lining inside before continuing the conversation. "Which way, Laddie. Is it down here?"
"I-is what down where?" Bilbo asked confused.
"Supper. He said there'd be food." The dwarf stated before throwing his cloak at Bilbo, who caught it easily. "And lots of it."
"He- He said? Who said?"
Unfortunately for Bilbo, his carefully crafted fish dinner had been consumed by the hungry intruder. All Bilbo could do was watch from the nearby stool, disgruntled and hungry.
"Very good, this. Any more?" Dwalin asked with his mouth full.
"What? Oh uh yes, yes." Bilbo got up to serve his guest more biscuits, quickly nabbing one for himself. "Help yourself."
The dwarf was happy to have more food presented to him after his long journey, but Bilbo wasn't one to let things lie where they lay.
"Its just, I wasn't expecting company."
Just then, the doorbell rung again for the second time that evening. Bilbo turned his head in the direction of the sound.
Dwaling ominously stated the worst words Bilbo could imagine. "That'll be the door."
Bilbo slowly made his way once more to his front door only to find another dwarf outside. This one was much older, shorter, and had much whiter hair than the previous dwarf to intrude.
"Balin, at your service." The dwarf said in a gentle voice before bowing.
"Good evening" Bilbo stated deeply.
Looking up, the older dwarf smiled before agreeing. "Yes. Yes, it is. Though I think it might rain later. Am I late?" he asked as he entered the hobbit's hole.
"Late for what?"
Just then the older dwarf noticed the first one with his hand in a cookie jar.
Laughing, Balin approached Dwalin slowly. "Evening brother."
Laughing and smiling in return, Dwalin replied "By my beard, you're shorter and wider than last we met."
"Wider, not shorter. Sharp enough for both of us." They clasped arms before headbutting each other hard enough to make poor Bilbo's teeth hurt just watching.
"Excuse me? Sorry to interrupt but the thing is, I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house."
The two dwarfs continued their catching up while Bilbo stuttered his dismay at having unknown guests at this hour. He eventually got to the end of his ignored rant. "I don't mean to be blunt, I'm sorry."
Balin looked over, smiled, and said happily apology accepted. Just then the doorbell rang once more.
Whimpering, Bilbo went to receive what he assumed was another dwarf at his door.
Instead, he found two.
One had golden hair while the other had much darker hair. Their beards were short and trim, with glass beads braided into them. "Fili" introduced the blonde one who resembled a lion. "Kili" stated the darker haired one. Both were very good looking and appeared young and much less battle worn than the two previous intruders. In unison they announced "at your service" to Bilbo before bowing.
Kili started off. "You must be Mr. Boggins." He said happily.
"Nope! You can't come in. you've come to the wrong house." Bilbo said quickly, trying to shut the door before they could enter. Kili was having none of that.
"What? Has it been canceled?"
Fili continued. "No one told us."
Confused, Bilbo continued. "Cancelled? No, nothing's been canceled."
Relieved Kili and Fili entered to find the others that had already gathered. They dropped their weapons off with Bilbo, warning him to be careful as they had just been sharpened.
Again, the doorbell rang.
Carrying the weapons before abruptly dropping them onto the wooden floor, Bilbo went back to his door repeatedly stating no, as if it would fend off what would most likely be yet another dwarf.
Unfortunately for him, Bilbo's luck was safely tucked away in another dressing gown pocket. Eight more dwarfs came tumbling into his home, followed by Gandalf as he ducked through the short door frame.
The dwarves helped themselves to all of Bilbo's food. One dwarf had an axe stuck in his head that didn't speak anything recognizable. Another was eating n entire wheel of cheese. Yet another was helping himself to all of Bilbo's fine wine. Gandalf was doing a head count to see if all members were accounted for.
They were apparently one dwarf short.
Bilbo stared at his empty larder in dismay. The only silence to be had was when the dwarves were drinking at the same time.
"My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?" Gandalf asked after some time.
"what's the matter, I'm surrounded by dwarves. What are they doing here?
"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them."
"I don't WANT to get used to them! Look at the state of my kitchen. There's mud trod into the carpet. They-they've pillaged the pantry. I'm not even gonna tell you what they've done in the bathroom. They've all but destroyed the plumbing. I don't understand what they're doing in my house!"
Just then a soft gentle Dwarf interrupted Bilbo's rant to ask what he should do with his plate. Another Dwarf took the plate, tossing it to a third dwarf past Gandalf, giving Bilbo an aneurysm. The first of many he would have in this adventure.
The dwarves sang while they cleaned the dirty dishes, everything flying this way and that. Once everything was cleaned, one final knock hit bilbo's door.
"He's here" Gandalf said in his deep gravely voice.
Bilbo answered the door to find a princely looking dwarf in travel worn clothes, a fur coat, ad long silky black hair that tied off with beads.
"Gandalf, I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way. Twice. Wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door." The mysterious dwarf stated before walking into the home.
Bilbo started to huff about how there was no mark on his door as he just had it painted not even a week ago.
"There is a mark on the door Bilbo, I put it there myself. Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf stated, presenting the newest member to Bilbo.
Thorin stepped up to Bilbo to inspect him. Crossing his arms, he started to speak. "so. This is the Hobbit. Tell me Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"
"Pardon me?"
"Axe or sword? Whats your weapon of choice?"
"Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know. But I fail to see why that's relevant."
"Thought as much" Thorin dismissed Bilbo, turning towards the other members of his company. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."
The dwarves laughed before leaving the room to settle down. They spoke of the comings and goings of other dwarvish folk, that was of no interest to Bilbo. They seemed particularly upset that other dwarves will not come
"They say this quest is ours and ours alone."
"You're on a quest?" Bilbo asked.
"Bilbo, let us have a little more light." Gandalf asked politely before taking over the conversation, unfolding a worn yellowed map.
"Far to the east, over ranges and rivers beyond woodlands and wastelands lies a single solitary peek."
"The lonely mountain" Bilbo read.
"Aye, Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time!" one of the red-haired dwarves stated firmly."
Another dwarf picked up where he left off. "Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold. When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end."
"Um. . . what beast?" Bilbo asked.
"That would be a reference to Smaug the terrible. Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne firebreather. Teeth like Razors. Claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals."
"Yes, I know what a dragon is." Bilbo interrupted.
The gentle dwarf in a sweater vest stood up at that moment proudly stating that he wasn't afraid, and he was up for it. Up to take on the dragon. The dwarves cheered somewhat before forcing him to sit back down.
"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us but we number just 13." The older gentle dwarf stated. "and not 13 of the best. . . nor brightest." That caused a few chuckles from the dwarves.
Fili slammed his hand on the table, getting the attention of the others. "We may be few in number, but we're fighters. All of us! To the last dwarf!"
Kili took over then. "And you forget, we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time."
Gandalf stuttered at having been put on the spot so suddenly. "Oh, well, no. I-I-I- wouldn't say-"
"how many then?
"what?"
"how many dragons have you killed?"
Instead of answering, Gandalf took a rather large drag of his pipe smoke and began coughing.
"Go on, give us a number!" the dwarves began to get rambunctious again, shouting all at once. Thorin called them to order with a timely and loud "Enough! Do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?"
They all cheered, minus Bilbo and the elderly dwarf.
"You forget" the aging dwarf stated" the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain."
Gandalf took over then.
"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Just then, Gandalf flashed a large, worn golden key the size of his palm at the company.
Thorin, amazed, asked how he came by this key.
"It was given to me by your father. By Thrain. For safekeeping. It is yours now" he said before handing the worn key that opened the locked door to the mountain to Thorin.
Fili then interjected again. "If there is a key. . . there must be a door."
Gandalf indicated to the map once more. "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."
Kili grabbed his brother Fili excitedly, "there's another door!"
"Well, yes but dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gandalf sighed before continuing. "The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in middle-earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage but if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."
"That's why we need a burglar!"
Bilbo interjected at that point. "hmm a good one too. An expert, I'd imagine."
"and are you?"
Looking behind himself before continuing, bilbo asked "am I what?"
"He said he's an expert!" they cheered.
"Me? No. no, no, no. I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life."
"Well, I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material. "
"nope" Bilbo agreed.
"Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves."
They argued amongst themselves at that point. It took Gandalf summoning his aura and stepping up to gain everyone's attention.
"If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is. Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage. You asked me to find the 14th member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest. And he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know. Including himself."
Gandalf paused to look everyone in the eye before lowering his voice to his softer tone. "You must trust me on this."
"Very well" Thorin stated. "we will do it your way. Give him the contract."
They went over the contract with Bilbo, who took it to read thoroughly. He was particularly fixated on the different ways he could possibly die. To the shock of no one, he said "No" before fainting.
Once he came to, Gandalf asked Bilbo what had happened to him. He was firm in saying the world wasn't in his books and maps. He needed to go out into the world to experience it.
"I am a Baggins. Of Bag-end!"
"You are also a Took!" Gandalf retorted. "Did you know your great-great-great-great uncle Bullroarer Took was so large he could ride a real horse? Well, he could! In the battle of Greenfields, he charged the Goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard; it knocked the Goblin King's head clean off, and it sailed 100 yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And thus, the battle was won. And the game of golf invented at the same time."
"I do believe you made that up."
"Well, all good stories deserve some embellishment."
"Can you promise that I will come back?"
"No, and if you do you will not be the same."
"That's what I thought. Sorry, Gandalf. I can't sign this. You have the wrong hobbit." Bilbo stated before heading off towards his bedroom.
He could hear the dwarves humming deeply of their home. The home that was taken from them. Their families lost. It was achingly beautiful and full of sorrow.
Bilbo slept poorly that night.
He dreamt of running from flames and arrows. He was too slow to get away from the dragon he dreamed off. He was scared, his heart racing. The searing heat of the flames coming closer and closer.
Suddenly, a delicate pale hand reached down to him to help him up.
Bilbo looked up at the face who risked their life to help him. She was gorgeous. She had long curly pale hair the shade of starlight. Her eyes the brightest richest green of leaves when the sun shown through the leaves of trees, and she was small. Taller than him by some, but no larger than a dwarf and very very slight in frame.
"Bilbo! You have to hurry!"
Her voice rang out like crystal bells. Innocent. Insistent. Impossible to ignore. He grabbed her hand as she pulled him up.
"You must hurry, or we will never make it!"
"Make it where?" Bilbo shouted as they ran, hand in hand, dodging burning buildings and falling debris.
"Open your eyes!"
Bilbo shot up from his nightmare that had felt so read to find himself upright in his own bed, in his own home, safely away from fire and brimstone.
Except for a small, winged figure that had landed on the foot of his bed, snoring away.