Arda, The Shire, Hobbiton: T.A. 2988, Shire Reckoning 1388; January 4th

The Shire had changed since Gandalf's last visit, of that he was certain, yet he couldn't pinpoint the reason for it. By all accounts, none of the circumstances of the inhabitants of this gentle land had differed since last he beheld them. At least not dramatically enough to warrant some of the change he'd encountered on his road to Bag End.

For starters, there was certainly a lot more metalworkers and blacksmiths. He seemed to pass one on every turn of the road. Though it was more than the hobbits new found enthusiasm for the art of metalwork, it was how they were implementing it. He'd seen more than a few Gentlehobbits pass him by with intricate metal creations sewed onto their clothes, or dangling from their ears, or in at least one remarkable case replacing their limbs. It didn't exactly feel wrong, but Gandalf couldn't deny that it unnerved him.

Another change in the inhabitants of this land seemed to be their attitude towards him. In the past Gandalf was sure that he would have received many a disapproving look, if not outright glare, as he rode by; but every hobbit he'd thus far passed had given him nothing but a smile and a friendly greeting. Even the blacksmiths hammering hard at their anvils would pause in their work and offer him a quick wave. The wizard tried not to be unsettled by this, for it could only be called an improvement, but he had to admit that it did feel strange to him.

Yet the most astounding difference of all was found in the contraption speeding down the road of Hobbiton at an alarming rate… towards him. He could not identify it on sight, but it had four wheels held together by several long metal pipes. On a raised platform, there were four precariously perched seats on which sat three young hobbits, one holding a smaller wheel that seemed to be controlling the four others. Later, he might have even been intrigued by the contraption, but right now all that Gandalf the Grey could feel was a rising sense of terror.

Wizard and beast found themselves diving headfirst into the stream that had babbled along beside them for most of their journey up Hobbiton. The horse managed to leap from land to water with little bother; the wizard on the other hand fell and landed in a crumpled mess, knocking his head hard on a large rock. There was a loud crash from overhead and the sound of several raised voices, darkness crept round his vision and he found it hard to focus on what was happening. Just as blackness had almost consumed his sight entirely, the wizard beheld a great light. Mighty it was, yet soft as sunlight glinting from a field of wheat, he reached out to touch it and found it solid and with form.

'Oh, Blarney Son, Blarney Son, Ham! We've killed 'im, we've killed 'im! We've killed Mister Bilbo's Wizard!'

The darkness began to fade from the wizard's vision, as did the light and at last Gandalf found himself looking into the face of a concerned young hobbit.

'Ah…' The wizard stared as the boy, whose shoulder Gandalf was still gripping, helped him stand.

'Oh, thank the Blarney Son you're alright, Sir, but we must have really given you a knock. Would you like us to bring you to one of the healers, or Mister Bilbo?' Regaining his balance, Gandalf shook his head, waving the boy, not unkindly, away.

'It is fine; it will take more than a spooked horse to fell Gandalf the Grey.' The old wizard said putting away the experience for proper examination later. 'What was that contraption you were in?' Before the boy could answer another voice rose up over the hill, shortly followed by the appearance of a burly young hobbit in a blacksmith's apron, and a young hobbit lass with the most peculiar set of bronze coloured glasses perched upon her golden curls.

'Sam-Lad you liar, he's not dead at all!' The deep-ish, slightly cracking voice indicated that the husky hobbit was closer to adulthood then the other two, so it was to him that Gandalf directed his questions. Although to accomplish this feat Gandalf had to raise his voice to a considerable level, to be heard over the bickering below him.

'What on Yavvanna's grace is going on here?' The three hobbits heads snapped up to the wizard, and the eldest at least looked slightly sheepish. But the wizard took no notice. 'Honestly all I am trying to accomplish on this not so very pleasant day, is my arrival at the home of one Bilbo Baggins of Bag End! I have no idea what has become of Hobbits, or why your kind act so strangely now. But quite frankly I don't care, bring me to Bag End and we will hear nothing more of this nonsense.'

The Blacksmith hobbit's ire rose at this.

'I don't know what you mean by strangely sir, this is just how hobbits act. You've been done wrong by this day, and for that we apologize, but there weren't no evil intent in it. And you're in the wrong there to call our race strange when we keep our peace on your kinds oddities!' Breathing heavily the lad straightened his apron and stared Gandalf down, only looking away when the wizard nodded, deciding to at least act bemused, though irritation was closer to the surface of his thoughts.

'Right well, as for Mister Bilbo that's our intent here. Our mission I mean, he sent us to go find you, because you were taking so long.'

Gandalf felt like grumbling into his beard at the impertinence of hobbits.

'Well then take me there now or be off with you for I'd rather be lost in this land of madness then suffer a fool of a guide.' When the three hobbits gasped, Gandalf knew that he had let his temper get the best of him and had spoken too harshly. But before he could gather himself to make a half-hearted attempt to apologise, the elder hobbit had stormed back up the bank yelling a curse of: 'Fine then, be lost and die for all I care. Stupid old wizard tricks good hobbits into doing your dirty work, then runs off and leaves them to starve in the middle of strange lands. Well I'm done with ye!' after him.

A few minutes later there was the noise of mechanically whirling gears from up ahead, and the sound of the great metal beast moving off minus two of its passengers. The two fauntlings squawked indignantly and rushed back to the road, the wizard following snakingly behind them.

'Damn Ham, he's gone and left us with the workload again.' Swore the girl kicking up the dust of the road with her small furry feet and taking off after the beast, with no thought of the other two left behind. The young hobbit left by the wizard's side sighed.

'Well that's done it now ain't it.' Then turning to face the wizard. 'Bag End's just over that last turn of the road Mister Gandalf Sir, can you make it on your own from here?' Gandalf was about to snap that he had made it on his own just fine until he was waylaid by the sorry trio, but the lad was already too far away to hear, and the wizard didn't feel it worth the effort to yell after him.

Bilbo did not enjoy being interrupted when he was in the middle of writing, in fact one might even go so far as to say that Bilbo hated being interrupted in the middle of writing. So, it isn't hard to imagine his level of ire upon hearing the rapping at his door, but of course he was a respectable hobbit, despite what some cousins who will go nameless might think. He'd had the famous manners of the Bagginses drilled into him at an early age, so on automatic, he finally answered the now frantic banging on his front door.

'Gandalf?'

The wizard that had spirited Bilbo Baggins away on that infamous adventure oh so many years ago, now stood at his door looking quite the worst for ware. Again, Bilbo's parents' training surfaced, and he quickly ushered his guest into the parlour and went about fixing them both something to eat. When Bilbo had returned laden with a tray of a freshly baked loaf from this morning and several jars of marmalade and jam, he set them down on the small table in front of the slightly hunched over wizard.

'Now…' said the adventurous hobbit. 'What on Mother Magda's Elven Lover, seems to have happened to you my good wizard? You look like you've just been beseeched by a pack of orcs…' Bilbo paused in thought. Considering his old friend's hectic lifestyle that may well have been true. 'You weren't, were you? Because if there are orcs in the Shire…' The wizard waved his hand, silencing Bilbo mid fuss.

'Hush Bilbo, there are no orcs in the Shire you may hold your peace on that account. But I have encountered misfortune.' Bilbo leaned closer, worry clear across his brow.

'It is hard to explain but I was run over by three young hobbits riding a metal beast… on wheels.'

The older hobbit couldn't hold in his laughter, though he didn't think Gandalf would hold it against him, for he was a good sort. Still he had to rein it in at last, if nothing else but to console the poor wizard.

'Oh my, I am sorry Gandalf, you aren't injured, are you?'

The wizard replied in the negative, still rather bemused by the whole situation.

'Well that is good to hear, as for your attackers that'll be some of the Gamgee sprogs, I sent them out to fetch you when I heard tell of your arrival on my doorstep. I didn't think they'd take the Auto out for such a small task, but then I suppose, sitting there all big and shiny and new it was a bit impossible to resist. But tell me…' Bilbo continued when it looked like all Gandalf was capable of doing right now was sitting and blinking at the rambunctious hobbit.

'What brings Gandalf the grey all the way to the Shire on this very fine day? You say there are no orcs here about, well that is good, but all cannot be so very well when you look quite so pale my friend. And don't tell me that was all the Gamgees doing, I've been run down by one of those new 'Automatic Carriages' myself from time to time and never come out of it looking quite as close to death as you have. So, tell me, what's the reason for your visit?'

Gandalf doffed his hat from his head onto the floor of Bagend, and sighed dejectedly.

'I'd had a very long trip before that incident, the world outside grows more worrying by the day Bilbo. And I grow tired of the fights and bickering of men. I meant to find rest in the unchanging hills of the Shire. But it would seem even here affairs grow more worrisome by the day, tell me what great upheaval has Hobbitkind suffered to cause such a change in their very nature?'

'In their very nature, Gandalf?' Bilbo sounded almost incredulous as he smeared marmalade on a thick chunk of seedy bread, deliberately not meeting the wizard's eyes. 'How very over dramatic of you, nothing has changed in any hobbit's "very nature". Though it would seem our minds are working at top speed these days. Autos aren't the only invention on the streets of Hobbiton you know, though perhaps the only one capable of taking down a wizard.'

Bilbo quirked a smile up at the old wizard who did not seem to find it at all funny, so Bilbo continued on quickly.

'But as for any great upheaval, I'm afraid there's been nothing of that sort. Just one day round eight years ago, people started to have these very useful ideas. I will admit it's a little odd to happen this late in the Shire's history, but it's hardly the first-time hobbits have had good ideas. Why just look at buttons or indoor plumbing, both had to come from somewhere, didn't they?' Bilbo, his explanation finished, leaned back in his chair and fished out his pipe from his jacket's pocket.

As Gandalf accepted some of the hobbit's old Longbottom Leaf, he couldn't quite keep the worried frown from his face. 'It is still troubling that it all happened so fast.'

Bilbo relented after another long puff of old Toby.

'Mm, perhaps, though troubling is hardly the word I would use… whatever the case though, it is hardly worth getting quite so upset over, especially since no evil has been wrought from it. Oh, that reminds me, you must stay long enough to see my newest play, I call it the Princess and the Silmaril.'

Meanwhile, somewhere in Rhûn

The man stood above them…above these men that had come from all corners of the mortal world. Men drawn from the West, the South, the North and the East stood side by side in that colossal crowd. Some men still wore the blue of the old Wizard's uniform, while others refused to part from the costumes of their homeland – even when the heat of Rhûn made a fur cloak a ridiculous addition to your outfit. They were all so different, these men of insight and courage, and yet all of them had been drawn here. To this great echoing chamber, where the man on the platform, the once wizard, the now elf stood looking over them with a patronising glint in his fine green eyes.

They had not come here for him alone, but merely what he represented – a myth, a legend, a glimpse back into a past that had never truly been. Long and tiring had been his journey to gather them, to spread the rumour of the light that would surely bring about a newer and better age to Middle-Earth, and yet now, looking down into their eager convinced faces, the man knew it was all worth it.

The Wizard was dead.

The Wizard was gone.

But the men beneath him did not need to know that.

'My friends, my brothers, I come before you now not as your new leader. Not as a general or wise man, but as a friend. I alone among my people, great and mighty as they are, have come down from across the ocean, to bring you my news.'

There was a murmur throughout the crowd, almost unbelieving, the man…the wizard…the elf, tried to bite back the annoyance that swelled within him. Men were much more trusting in the First Age of the sun, but he could work with this – after all, he'd done it before.

'Long has been my journey, long have been my trials but finally…after all these years I have returned to you, my loyal followers. I will return what was stolen from one I should never have trusted. For you see, I have found my Silmaril.'
And a great cry came up from the crowd then, a cry of such joy that it struck the breath from even the mighty lungs of the Jewel's crafter.

'My friends, I weep for your joy, but our task is not ended…for they have taken the Silmaril from me and they have hidden it where they believe I will not find it.'

The crowd booed and Fëanor clapped them into silence.

'But we shall take it back, and,' and this next part he screamed until his throat was raw. 'We will not stop until their blood stains their rolling green land for a hundred generations!'

And below him, the crowd went wild.