Once again, I should mention that I do not own the Hobbit, nor the characters. Just this idea. Enjoy. I know Bilbo confessed to wanting to go on an adventure literally the night before, and suddenly someone shows up offering her one and she denies it, but she doesn't want to go with this guy! Bilbo is thinking about how she needs to get her affairs in order, and this weirdo comes up and just sort of unnervingly stares at her until she responds and then sort or insults her. Bilbo's adventure is to see the world. She wants to see the world, on her OWN terms, not this freaks.
The trouble with plans, as the Sackville-Bagginses would soon find out, was that no matter how well thought out, there are always unforeseen factors. And an unforeseen factor can leave even the most meticulous plans ruined and lying in the mud. Unfortunately for the Sackville-Bagginses, a wizard is, in fact, the epitome of an unforeseen factor.
So when Bilbo pulled herself together that morning, ultimately deciding that a good smoke in her garden would help distract her from her fate, the Sackville-Baggins were completely unaware that their plans were about to go pear-shaped from the cheeky man coming up the dirt road.
Bilbo sat on the bench in her garden, pipe in hand, the familiar tendrils of smoke curling lazily in the cool morning air. The sun was just beginning to rise, bathing the Shire in golden light, but she had to close her eyes against the beauty of the scene less despair set back in. Bilbo doubted she could scrounge up any more tears even if it did, but she didn't want to think of it, wondering how many more days like this she would have, so she closed her eyes and just breathed in the smoke. Just the smoke, only focusing on the smoke. She pulled on the pipe again, letting the warm, earthy flavor calm her nerves.
It wasn't until she felt a gentle brush, like a butterfly's wing, sweep across her face, along with the scent of stale old toby, that she opened her eyes. Before her, was a large figure, possibly a man, though he seemed slightly taller, he was towering over her imposingly, with a long staff in hand and a pointed grey hat perched atop a head of unruly white hair. But perhaps the most unnerving was the mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked at her.
Bilbo cleared her throat awkwardly and shifted her weight uncomfortably, hoping he would get the message, she didn't wish to speak to him, but his stare remained unwavering. Clearly, he wasn't going away without being acknowledged. "Good morning" she greeted hastily hoping he would just acknowledge it and then leave.
"What do you mean? 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 strange man said leaning against his staff. Bilbo opened her mouth and gapped at him, why was he bombarding her with all these questions? She didn't care to examine the hidden depths of a Good morning, it was a greeting, simple as that. "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." It appeared that this stranger was looking to incite her to a deeper conversation. Perhaps if Bilbo were in the mood, she would have indulged this stranger, but as it was, Bilbo only wanted to leave.
"All of them at once I suppose," hoping that was that but the man hummed out a low sound, almost like disapproval, and gave her an appraising look. Bilbo didn't like it.
"Can I help you?" She asked, hoping that he would state his business and then leave to go about his day.
"That remains to be seen, I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure," he said cryptically like he was indulging her with a precious secret. Bilbo gapped at the man. He was looking for someone to go on an adventure with him and he chose the Shire of all places? Idiot! But if he was here for advice she would give it to him.
"An...An Adventure? No, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures." Bilbo shook her head at the foolish man and stood up. "Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things," she said as she busied herself with grabbing the mail. "Make you late for dinner." she chuckled before puffing once again on her pipe while identifying her letters.
There was another letter from Lotho, probably to plead his case again, one from her grandfather, no doubt his opinion on what the Sackville-Baggins were up to, and finally a letter from her cousin Drogo Baggins. How interesting, she had always liked dear Drogo, he was a good clever lad, last she heard from him was when he asked her tips for courting. Intrigued by what this could be about, Bilbo made her final goodbye with a decisive good morning and turned to walk away.
"To think I should have lived to be good morning by Belladonna Took's daughter as if I were selling buttons at the door!" The wizard announced with his hands placed on his hips. Bilbo froze, staring at the audacious stranger, arms hanging loose beside her.
"I beg your pardon." She said but it was not with good cheer, Bilbo remembered every stranger that had come to her mother's funeral, but this man hadn't been there.
"You've changed, and not entirely for the better Bilbo Baggins." He said as if imparting her with grave news indeed. Bilbo felt her temper flair, she was in no mood to deal with criticism today.
"I do believe that is a matter of opinion, my good sir, and frankly I do not believe yours is worth anything of value to me. Though I must inquire how it is you have known my mother's name, and my address, for I'm sure I do not know you." Bilbo asked feeling quite defensive, anger taking over her, already frayed short, temper.
"You know my name though you do not remember I belong to it. I'm Gandalf and Gandalf means me," he declared proudly as if she would know him. Bilbo knew every name from the funeral and every letter of condolence she received. This Gandalf was not one of them. The only Gandalf she knew was a name from a story from her grandfather's infamous birthdays.
Bilbo quirked her head at the stranger in consideration. "The only Gandalf I know of is Gandalf the Wandering Wizard whom sells fireworks, but that must have been over 50 years ago now. I would doubt he's still in business."
Gandalf raised a bushy brow at her and let out a deep, rumbling grumble, by her remark. "Well, where else would I be?" he asked grumpily raising his eyebrow at her as if he was scolding her. Bilbo simply returned the gesture.
"Are you telling me you are Gandalf the Wandering Wizard who sells fireworks?"
I can assure you, I am indeed that same Gandalf. Though I admit, my wares have grown far beyond mere fireworks."
Bilbo's expression remained skeptical, her arms crossing over her chest. "Forgive me if I find that hard to believe," she said, narrowing her eyes at the tall figure before her. "You'd be ancient by now. And even if you are who you claim to be, what brings you to my door after all these years, speaking cryptically and implying you knew my mother? Another tidbit I have trouble believing, I'm quite certain I never ordered fireworks, nor requested the services of a wandering wizard."
Gandalf sighed dramatically, his hands still perched on his hips. "Ah, the skepticism of youth—or middle age, in your case. I had hoped you'd be more receptive to my visit. But no matter; I am here for a purpose, and I will not be turned away by a few pointed words."
Bilbo's jaw tightened. She was not in the mood for riddles or condescension, not after... "Then I suggest you get to the point, sir. As you can see, I'm quite busy." She gestured vaguely to the letters still in hand.
The wizard's sharp eyes softened slightly, as if seeing past her words to something deeper. Bilbo did not appreciate it. He leaned on his staff, studying her with an infuriating mix of patience and curiosity. "You're not busy at all, my dear. In fact, I'd wager you've been avoiding being busy for quite some time now. But that is precisely why I've come."
Bilbo blinked, taken aback. "I beg your pardon?" she asked, her voice laced with irritation. "You come uninvited, insult me in my own garden, and now you presume to know my habits?"
Gandalf smiled faintly, though there was a seriousness in his gaze that unsettled her. "I do not presume, Bilbo Baggins," he said eyeing her with that same gleam in his eye that made Bilbo want to run in the first place.
Bilbo's cheeks flushed with indignation. "For not presuming, you are quite presumptuous." she snapped. "You know nothing about me. And even if you did, what business is it of yours how I choose to live my life?"
"It becomes my business when it concerns the fate of the wider world," Gandalf replied, his tone growing more serious. "And make no mistake, Bilbo Baggins, the wider world is at stake. Whether you like it or not, you have a role to play in what's to come."
Bilbo stared at him. "The wider world?" she repeated incredulously. "What does my life have to do with any interest in the wider world?"
Gandalf leaned closer, his gaze piercing. "Oh, but it does, my dear. More than you can imagine. And tonight, when my companions arrive, you'll begin to understand."
Bilbo stiffened. "Your companions?"
"Yes," Gandalf said, his tone lightening slightly as if he were discussing something as ordinary as a tea party. "A group of dwarves, to be precise. They'll be arriving here this evening."
Bilbo felt her jaw drop. "You've invited strangers to my home? Without asking?"
The wizard smiled slyly. "Oh, don't worry. Dwarves are excellent company once you get to know them. And I assure you, their business is quite urgent."
Bilbo's head spun with the audacity of it all. "You insufferable—" Bilbo sputtered, but the wizard had already turned, making his way back down the lane as if the matter were settled.
She watched him go, torn between shouting after him and retreating indoors to barricade her door. Ultimately, she did neither, opting instead to glare at the retreating figure until he disappeared from view, her fists clenched at her sides. "Mad," she muttered under her breath. "Completely, utterly mad."