An Unexpected Ring

Chapter 2

A Wizard is Never Late

Gandalf says he's never late.

I should consult Thorin on the matter next time I pass through Erebor.

Frodo Baggins lounged against a tree, a book in his lap, his pipe resting against the back of his hand, thin streams of smoke curling from the bulbous end as it dangled over a patch of moss. The Longbottom Leaf inside smoldered and simmered, with the flame almost burnt out. Such a waste, but he could not take his eyes off the tale written in loopy scrawl in his lap.

This was not a book most hobbits would be fond of reading. Indeed, if he handed this text to one of his neighbors, or even to his friend, Samwise Gamgee, he had a feeling they would give him a curious look. After all, the story had nothing to do with elves, dwarves, or men.

This story was written by one of the strangest characters in Frodo's life: Tiki, or, "that queer wanderer", as many of the good folks of Hobbiton liked to say. It was a title they usually reserved for dwarven merchants and wizards, but Tiki had earned it with her strange comings and goings. During one of those goings, when Frodo was about ten years younger than he was now, she returned with this book and handed it to him, knowing about his great curiosity regarding history and the world. Only this book wasn't about the history or world of Middle-Earth. This book was about Tiki's home.

It recounted the adventures of a man. A prince and eventual king named Marth, and his war against the vile wizard Gharnef the Black and the corrupt dragon Medeus. Frodo found it enthralling, the characters endearing, the tale uplifting, heart-pounding, and gut-wrenching all at once. He could not put it down.

So, while he read, it took him a moment to realize that something was coming down the road near his little reading spot. He tilted his head as he turned to the next page. It sounded like wooden wheels rolling along the dirt. Heavy wheels. Big ones.

Frodo's head shot up. A smile creased his lips. Few things could get him to put down a good book, but this was one of them. He slapped the book closed, scrambled to his feet, then raced to the road, where he stood atop a grassy ledge and folded his arms. Below him, a cart carrying an old man in a gray cloak, wearing a large pointy hat, came to a stop.

"You're late," Frodo said, feigning a frown.

The man furrowed his large brow beneath his hat. "A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."

Frodo and the wizard locked eyes. For a moment, they glared at each other in stony silence. Then, laughter bubbled from the wizard's lips. Mirth filled his gaze, and Frodo joined him with raucous laughter of his own before leaping off the ledge and into his arms.

"It's wonderful to see you, Gandalf!"

Gandalf laughed heartily as he embraced Frodo. When Frodo finally let the old man breathe, Gandalf patted his small shoulder.

"You didn't think I would miss your Uncle Bilbo's birthday?"

"Not a chance," Frodo grinned, taking a seat beside Gandalf on his little cart. His grin widened. "I think this is the first time both of you are back for his birthday."

"Both?" Gandalf questioned as he snapped the reins and urged his pony forward.

Frodo nodded as they came to the edge of Hobbiton. "Tiki is back too. She arrived three days ago and just about fell asleep on the front porch."

Gandalf drew back. "Did she? And what was she up to this time? Wandering more?"

"Of course. You do know what they call her around here, right?"

Gandalf shrugged.

"The Strange Wandering Elf," Frodo answered.

"Oh, the Strange Wandering Elf, hm?" Gandalf muttered, unsurprised.

"And they have a name for you as well?"

Gandalf twisted in his seat. Beneath them, the road turned from dirt to cobblestone. "And what would that be?"

Frodo opened his mouth then hesitated. As he did, they passed by a pair of hobbits who gave Gandalf a grumpy, unfriendly look. The most unneighborly of reactions a hobbit could give a stranger. And, while most hobbits were suspicious of big folk, Frodo liked to think it was not in their nature to be hostile to them. Gandalf clearly took notice though.

"I assume it is that."

"Well…" Frodo grimaced. "You've been officially labeled a disturber of the peace."

Gandalf raised his brow, hummed, then reset his eyes on the road. When they passed by the Green Dragon, small, excited voices rang out behind the cart. Frodo's smile returned. There were the more neighborly hobbits. Of course, they were the littlest ones, all of whom demanded to see Gandalf's legendary fireworks early.

And Gandalf happily obliged, but only after making them wait for it. When he allowed some of his little snaps and crackles to fly through the air, the children cheered, and Gandalf laughed with Frodo. A few of the older hobbits along the road merely shook their heads, but none appeared grumpy. Gandalf nodded at them.

"So, if I'm a disturber of the peace, then what is Tiki other than the Strange Elven Wanderer? How much peace has she disturbed?"

"She just sleeps for days, usually. Then, when she wakes, she devours the entirety of Uncle Bilbo's pantry." Frodo chuckled. "And Bilbo mutters about how not even thirteen dwarves had such a ravenous appetite. Yet, he never kicks her out or scolds her for it." He leaned closer to Gandalf. "Also, I've done my research on elves of late."

"Have you?" Gandalf hummed.

"Since when do they eat so much meat?"

Gandalf pursed his lips. "Oh well… you did say Tiki was the Strange Elven Wanderer, and I think the most important word in that description is strange."

Frodo leaned back, unconvinced. "There's something curious about her, that's true. I get the feeling that her and Bilbo are not telling me everything. And now, you're doing the exact same thing. What are you all hiding?"

Gandalf remained silent.

"Alright then, keep your secrets," Frodo remarked.

"I shall," Gandalf nodded with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Frodo huffed, shook his head, and laughed under his breath. The cart slowed as it came to a bend in the road, near the center of Hobbiton. At that point, Frodo leaned off the cart and hopped down. He walked alongside the cart for a moment then smiled up at the gray wizard.

"Gandalf, I'm glad you're back."

"So am I dear boy."

Frodo turned and started back up the road. He had left his pipe next to the old tree alongside his book, and he did not wish to lose either of them. As he walked back, he paused beside the Green Dragon Inn and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets.

"What elf sleeps for three days straight?"

"Bilbo, for the love of Naga, what are you-"

"I'm hiding the silverware!" Bilbo exclaimed as he scurried across his kitchen. He threw open a drawer and shoved some spoons inside. Then he placed a cloth napkin over them and tried to shut the drawer. When it didn't close right away, he huffed and threw his weight against the drawer, slamming it closed.

Tiki watched this unfold from the breakfast nook near the front window. She was on her second cup of tea now, the warm liquid soothing her aches from traveling and not getting enough sleep. Subtle scents of apple and cinnamon wafted into her nose. A pleasant autumn smell which warmed Tiki to her soul. She closed her eyes, relaxing on the bench, only to hear the clatter of more dishes.

"Is that the forks or the knives?"

"Pans! Cast iron," Bilbo let out an exasperated laugh. "Lobelia would love to get her hands on these. My great-grandmother cooked with them. The seasoning coat is older than I am, you know. How else do you think I make fish so delicious, hm? You don't get flavor like that with any other cookware. No, you do not."

"Bilbo…"

"Ah yes, then I must hide the forks and knives. Thank you for reminding me."

Tiki sighed then opened her eyes. "Don't you think you're being a tad paranoid?"

Bilbo skidded to a stop in his hallway, arms full of pots and pans. "Paranoid? Me? Never!"

Tiki arched an eyebrow. Every year, Bilbo seemed to get a tad more eccentric. She chalked that up to him growing older. But, alongside his growing oddities, when she was not asleep, she had noticed him becoming more reclusive as well, often secluding himself away in his study to read, write, or gaze at the treasure he had gained from the quest to free Erebor. Of course, Bilbo denied the latter, but Tiki caught him doing it before, she just never said anything. It had been about ten years ago, after she had traveled to Harad in search of answers about her homeland. She walked in, barely awake, and found her old friend sitting near the fire, gazing at a simple golden band in his palm. Back then, she thought nothing of it.

Now that she watched him, she wondered what was going on in that mind of his.

"Bilbo," she breathed, rising from her seat. The old hobbit skidded to a stop as he returned from hiding his pots and pans. "Perhaps the stress of this entire party nonsense is getting to you?"

Bilbo gave her a puzzled look. "Since when have I ever been stressed about a party?" He laughed at the thought. "No, no, don't be silly." He snatched a serving spoon and placed it in a vase. "The party is not stressing me out at all."

"But you do admit to being anxious," Tiki asked, eyeing her old friend. His steps faltered as she spoke. "You're planning something, aren't you, Bilbo Baggins?"

Bilbo's shoulders sagged.

"Is that why my room was less cluttered this time?"

"Your room was less cluttered because I actually got to clean it for once, something you often forget to do," Bilbo replied as he spun on his heel. Tiki blinked. When did he grow so defensive?

Something is troubling him.

Tiki stepped out from behind the table, moved in front of Bilbo, and knelt down. She grasped him gently by the shoulders and gave him a warm smile. Even after all these years, she still saw the youthful, curious hobbit she met sixty years ago. She could still see the curious gaze in his eyes when they first met. The years had not changed that at least.

"Bilbo, you can talk to me if you need to. You know that right?"

Bilbo's lips thinned. "Of course… but not right now. Right now, I must hide the knives."

Bilbo scooted past her. Right as Tiki moved to rise again, a sharp series of knocks sounded on the door. At first, her eyes narrowed, and slits formed in her pupils. If that was the Sackville-Baggins again, she would have words. However, before she could say anything, Bilbo shoved his way past her.

"No, thank you! Read the sign! I don't need any more well-wishers or distant relations!"

"And what about very old friends!?"

Tiki's heart jumped in her chest. She and Bilbo exchanged shocked looks. Both rushed to the door, but Bilbo reached the doorknob first. He threw it open.

There stood Gandalf the Grey. Tiki grinned when she saw him.

"You're late, old man."

Tiki sat in a well-worn spot on the steps leading to Bilbo's green door. Her pipe, the same one Gandalf gave her sixty years ago, rested in the corner of her mouth. She gave it a gentle puff, then blew out a stream of smoke that snaked its way into the sky, darting through a smoke ring blown by Bilbo. Beside her, the hobbit laughed.

"Ah, this reminds me of old times," he breathed. Next to him, Gandalf blew out a smoke ring. "Do you three recall the night after we handled those Trolls beyond the borders of the Shire? Nasty bit of business that was. I still think that old vest of mine has their stench in the stitching."

Tiki wrinkled her nose. "They were putrid, yes. But as for the night after, I'm afraid I'm having a hard time recalling. I'm pretty sure I was asleep though."

"No, no," Bilbo argued, "you were awake. You complained about how it was not a long enough nap. Then you got to smoking, as did Gandalf, and I joined you both. At that time, I felt so incredibly out of place. There I was sitting beside someone who I thought was an ancient elf and a powerful wizard, joining them on a quest where my role was something I clearly was not."

"You did wind up making a terrible burglar. Who fails to steal from trolls?" Tiki teased.

"Loud burglars," Gandalf replied with a wry grin.

Bilbo scoffed. "If that one hadn't reached to scratch his rear, I would've managed to pick his pocket, I'm telling you!" He shook his head as he laughed with Tiki and Gandalf. When he replaced his pipe between his lips, a distant gaze entered his aged eyes. "Sixty years…"

"A long time," Gandalf nodded.

"Quite." Bilbo let his pipe fall from his lips and rest in his lap. "I'm old."

"Nonsense," Tiki replied. She blew out three rings of smoke. "You're as spry as you ever were."

"Well, on the outside, yes," Bilbo replied. "But… I can feel something inside of me. I feel stretched. Thin. Hollow even. I can't explain it. Imagine butter scraped over too much bread."

His eyes peered further away, gazing not at the rolling hills of Hobbiton, but at the distant past. Memories that he longed to relive. Tiki knew the look well. She often found herself venturing to the realm of the past on her own time as well, looking back to see her old friends, past adventures, and lost love. It was a most distressing sensation. That reminiscing came with a deep sense of longing and regret that was difficult to manage, let alone shake. For Tiki, she had several thousand years to learn to manage it. But for Bilbo… he'd only just now begun to feel it.

"That's the nature of aging," Tiki breathed, her smile waning. "You linger, but everything else moves on. Friends and companions wither then pass. Old haunts and friendly places grow foreign and cold. You lose a piece of yourself with each year that passes, I suppose. Then, one day, you wake, and you find yourself in a world that is strange to you, even though it is, to everyone else, the same exact one it has always been."

"It is quite a difficult burden to bear," Gandalf muttered.

Tiki nodded slowly. "Yes," she whispered. "It is."

In the distance, torches burned to life near large pavilions and tents in a flat field. Banners of all colors fluttered in the fading twilight. Music floated along the breeze, hitting Tiki's ears with whimsical notes and causing her melancholy to numb for a moment.

"The party is almost ready," Gandalf said. "I dare say, it looks like it has begun."

"And we are late," Bilbo snorted.

He and Gandalf shared a glance.

"Fashionably so," Gandalf replied.

Tiki laughed.

And chapter! We are having a nice, albeit slow start to this fic. Getting all the pieces in their proper places and setting up where the characters are at now after the long gap between this and the events of An Unexpected Companion. It's quite fun to write Tiki, Bilbo, and Gandalf chatting now that there is a lot of history between them. I can't wait to do more in the coming chapters! Anyways, let me know what you all think of this chapter! As always, I hope you all enjoyed it. Have a nice day!