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Over the Rolling Hills of Hobbiton	By : Bandersnatch91 Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Hobbit, The Views: 3724 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit, any of it’s affiliated works, characters or plot. I don’t make any money off of this written work in way shape or form, except in reviews and love from my readers.

Chapter List
- 1-Over the Rolling Hills of Hobbiton
- 2-Travels with Dwarves
- 1
- 2
Chapter 1

Bilbo Baggins of the Shire lived in a hobbit hole like most hobbits of the Shire. It wasn’t the sort of hole that was dirty or even filled with mug or dug out just for a place to stay until something else better came along. These hobbit holes were made with professional craftsmanship. The floor was made with the perfect pieces of Oak, Cherry or even the best Elder wood for floors; the rugs were made from the best wool from sheep. On every wall hug a portrait, shelves filled with knickknacks. There are several rooms, each ready for guests if they choose to stay for an extension of time. Pillows made from the finest chicken and duck feathers that made sleeping almost like laying your head on a cloud. The beds were filled with straw that were changed every year at spring cleaning. Rugs littered the floor of the hallways, rooms, kitchen and bathroom.
Bilbo Baggins of course had a nice Hobbit hole in the ground where everything was as it seemed, and nothing of the ordinary happened at all to a Hobbit who kept to themselves, joined dinner parties at the Tooks, Brandybucks, Gamidges, and anyone else of importance when throwing dinner parties. There was always a feast going around in Hobbiton, for any occasion to celebrate to have great food, a good brew, and enjoy the company of your friends, family and neighbors.
Bilbo wasn’t at one of these gatherings today, even if it was one of his cousin’s birthday, he rather sit around at home, enjoying a cup of tea, snacking on cakes, by the fire. He would settle down later before bed with another glass of tea and a pipe full of the finest weed in Hobbiton. For Bilbo Baggins it was the best life a Hobbit could ask for. He however, felt a little differently about that. He was starting to grow bored of the everyday routine. He wished sometimes while he sat out on his bench out by the hill his home resided in, that he would have something extra ordinary, something special happen to him. He would then laugh at the thought. “Who am I,” He would ask himself “To ask for anything more than I have now? I have the perfect life; I spend most of my day pulling weeds out of my garden, enjoying a good book, looking at maps, and enjoy the quiet which is my life. Why would I want something more than that?” He would ponder, but something would always nag at him and tell him that he did wish that something would happen to him out of the ordinary.
Anyone would say that Bilbo Baggins was just wishing for something different. Anyone who knew the Tooks real well knew that they had a bit of fairy blood in them, and would tend to take off on adventures of their own. Disappear some said, they were there one day and gone the next, and before you knew it they were back again changed for the better. The worse, most skeptical Hobbits would think. Who would want to leave the Shire on some crazy idea, getting into no one knows what type of mischief and causing trouble for oneself.
Bilbo finished off his tea, and stood. He went to the drawer next to his desk that held maps of the Shire, and surrounding towns that Hobbits lived around. No one knew better that there was a world outside of their comfy little world of green fields, rolling hills, rivers and lakes. No one wanted to leave and it was better off that way. Bilbo grabbed his bag of freshly dried weed, poured himself another cup of tea like always and headed out the door to watch the sun go down before he put out his fire in the fireplace and headed to bed.
He closed the door behind him, prepared for his evening’s festivities with cup in hand; pipe prepared and matches in his front shirt pocket. He would not have to worry about anything on this evening, or for the rest of his life. Bag End was his home, and would always be. It was paid off by his fathers’ father before him paid off a made for a family to life comfortably until the end of their days. Bilbo had a while to go before he settled down with a lovely woman who would once again fill Bag end with children.
Bilbo ceased his thoughts for a moment while he placed hit pipe in him mouth, stroked the match on the bottom of his shoe, and placed it in the bowl of his pipe as he took a couple puffs to get the weed lit and burning. Once it was set he inhaled carefully and exhaled through the other side of his lips from where the pipe rested between teeth and lips. He savored the little joys of the simplistic actions of just smoking a pipe allowed him to slowly put a close on his day.
Hobbit life was a simple life. No real worries in the world. Farmers farmed their crop, brewers brewed their beer, and wine, Inn Keepers kept their bars clean and not a fight ever really broke out, most of the time you had drunks dancing on the table or getting thrown out for being a pain to society but that was life. This was Bilbo’s life, something sweet and simple.
He took another draw out of his pipe pondering what he would do tomorrow; he never had to work, since everything was paid off. He had weeded the flowerbed under the window so he supposed tomorrow he would go down by the river and fish. He scratched his chin and grinned. It would be a nice relaxing day for fishing, since the weather would always permit it.
Bilbo finished with his pipe tipped it over the dirt and tapped the bottom of the bowl to clean out the ash from his pipe. He stepped on the ash to make sure it wouldn’t start a fire. Once done he headed back into the house.
Hobbits don’t have need for shoes. Their feet are too big for most handmade shoes, besides it would look funny on most hobbits, and they had no need for such things as well as they dressed. The bottom of their feet was tougher than any leather made from hide of livestock. Their feet were huge compared to their tiny bodies. Their feet were meant to walk through fields while harvesting the farms crop, stepping on rocks, and even the Rocky River bends that were littered with rocks sometimes.
Upon entering in the house Bilbo checked the dying fire. He made sure that nothing flammable was close to the embers and called it a night. He walked in a slow pace going from room to room turning off the lights and blowing out the candles. When he reached the kitchen he poured the last bit of tea in his coffee mug, placed his pipe weed and his pipe on the kitchen table and headed to the bedroom to change. After he dressed in his flannel pajamas he headed to bed with a good book.
The next morning found Bilbo with a fishing pole, hooks, bait, a net, and a container both to keep the fish cold and to hold his pipe, snacks and mead. He was dressed for the occasion ready for a full day of lazing about the river bank doing nothing. On the plus side it got him away from annoyances and relatives that continued to pester him to settle down with a nice young hobbit gal, and have nothing but children. That he didn’t want in particular right now, he just wanted it to be him. This, for the most part was suitable for him since he wouldn’t have a nagging wife wondering where he was going all the time.
He walked down the dirt trail of Hobbiton nodding and waving to fellow neighbors. He enjoyed living here everyone was nice and cordial. It was with pride that hobbits were the most hospitable people you could ever meet. It came with the territory of being a Hobbit which if you asked any hobbit of Hobbiton they would of course, agree.
Bilbo wandered through the small town area, where there was the Green Dragon Inn, where most would do their social drinking, and spend the night if one was to inebriated to walk home, or drive their horse buggies. There was the Farmer’s Market where the freshest foods you could buy were there. There were the butchers and even a nursery that specialized in flowers, herbs, shrubs and trees. If one wanted to start a garden, which was where they would go. Besides the company of Molly Fleur, she was the best looking she-hobbit in the small town of Hobbiton. She had fire curled hair that ran in ringlets down two inches past her shoulders. Her blue eyes seemed to shine brighter because of her hair. Her face was round, lips pouty and a lovely blush color. She was an average height for a female hobbit, which had a bit of a fire temper that accompanied her happy demeanor. She was currently arguing prices with Farmer Haggis.
Normally Bilbo would drop by to say hello, and perhaps start up a little chit-chat with her, but today she was busy. Besides Bilbo wanted a day just to himself, his weed and his honey made mead. With a nod in Molly’s general directions and a wave from her he headed towards his secret path the hid behind multiple willows for excellent shade and a wonderful spot for fishing.
It took an hour to get to his spot, which normally took less time, but trying to be avoided by certain persons it took time to get to his spot unnoticed. It would not do if someone else discovered the Baggins’ special fishing spot. While he got his pole ready to cast out into the river he thought of lemon, garlic and butter fish that would complement a nice red wine for tonight’s dinner. He licked his lips hungrily.
He cast out his pole, had it held carefully in a nice set of rocks to hold his pole up while he laid back on a willow’s base hands folded behind his head, legs crossed and pipe burning weed between his lips. His gaze wandered to the hanging branches of the willow wondering about how his week would go. Bilbo was a pondering person. He enjoyed putting up a little schedule for the future days ahead of him, even if most of it was lazing about doing nothing in particular. Somewhere between pondering his lot in life and checking his pole for any bites he had dozed off.
He had awoken to the far off distant sound of a horse. Normally that wouldn’t bother Bilbo, however this horse sounded heavier than the horses he was accustomed to hearing. It had a heavy clop, compared to the clap that most little ponies that wandered around here. The sound of a horse peaked Bilbo’s interest. He sat up to find the owner of the distant clopping, when his pole tipped over in a bite. Excited for his first catch of the day and nearly noon his attention was drawn elsewhere. He picked up his fishing pole and started working on reigning in the fish that would go for his dinner tonight.
As the afternoon rolled on by, and turned into a nice orange dusk he picked up his pole, and four fish that he had caught in his cooler and pipe in his hand as he occasionally took puffs of he headed back home to enjoy the nice quiet evening. Perhaps he would ask Molly over for dinner tonight if she wasn’t busy, perhaps he would ask her to go with him to see the summer fireflies for a nice date. He nodded to himself, he had plenty of time. Now, he was fond of Molly but he wasn’t ready to settle down, so many things he was interested in doing before he actually settled down. Now Molly would make anyone proud, but she would probably be the type of woman that hounded him until he came home or even would badger him to help at the store down in her shop. Of course, that wasn’t something Bilbo was ready for yet.
He enjoyed his nice walk, listening as the crickets came out to chirp for the night, and the occasional night owl that would swoop down in the fields further from the trail to catch their mice dinner. The thought of dinner made his stomach gurgle. He had missed afternoon tea and second lunch. Which was enough to make any hobbit famished who spent all day fishing with only egg sandwiches to eat while he was out. After all he only brought twelve, which was small considering the amount most hobbits ate during the day.
Upon reaching his home he noticed two figures sitting on his bench by his house. It was a mystery to why they were there. Something tugged at his gut stating that the unusual thing he wanted was about to happen. He silently cursed himself. He wasn’t looking for company tonight; he probably wasn’t even going to go through asking Molly out. As he got closer, he noticed the two figures, one was a bit bigger them him, and the other just dwarfed him immensely. It made his cautious, as most hobbit folk were when faced with something strange and possibly dangerous.
It took all the courage he had to straighten his back, looking silly he bet, carrying a container full of fish on his right shoulder, a pole in one hand and a pipe in the other that he occasionally puffed at. He stopped by the strangers. Both persons had a long beard.
One had dark brown almost black hair, his beard braided and twined from three braids into one long braid that seemed to join the more free bits of the beard that freefell from his chin, although it was well groomed. He was a foot taller than Bilbo but it made him feel really small. His ears were rounded compared to his pointed ears. He was wearing armor, leather and plate that seemed to complement each other in black and leather duo that screamed dangerous, if that didn’t then the axe at his hip did. His arms were crossed, and if Bilbo looked closer he could see dark brown almost black eyes. It pushed the timid feeling onto him, so in order to strengthen is resolve he took a couple puff on his pipe.
The next man that sat next to this dark man was in fact, quite tall and dwarfed both him and this dark haired stranger. He wore a hat that brimmed over his head and pointed towards the sky before curving a little behind him. He wore robes made of gray, in his hand was a large wooden staff that was held preciously in his grip, his other hand held a long pipe that he would puff on as well. He was quiet almost like he was sizing Bilbo up. It was irritating to be looked at like that.
At that point Bilbo Baggins of the shire knew that these strange men had business with him. It was obvious since they were sitting on his bench in front of his house, on his property. So, with that assumption now taken care of for why they were here all he had to do now was to ask what their business was. Since neither would start up a conversation on why they were here on his property he would take initiative and go ahead and start the conversation. However when he opened his mouth he was cut off my taller one in the grey, which Bilbo thought was quite rude. Wizard, How peculiar, why is one here on my doorstep I wonder. He thought to himself as the wizard boomed with his deep voice.
“Well, what do you think? I picked him out personally out of all the persons you asked for, he came to mind immediately.” The older and taller of the two spoke, almost like Bilbo wasn’t there to be part of their conversation at the moment.
The other sat in silence for a moment, as if to think Bilbo over, his free hand rubbing his chin carefully as if to think for a bit before he responded himself. “He’s a bit small and runty for the job. But you’re sure?” His dark brown eyes wandered over to the grey wizard taking another puff off of his own finely crafted pipe.
“Of course I am sure. Have I ever led you wrong before? I doubt that I have. I also understand your concern over him. He is small but that adds to the qualities you need for the job. I am certain he is the best one for the job.” He smiled at Bilbo, it made Bilbo think himself a tree and two woodsmen deciding if he was the right one to chop down. He didn’t that idea at all, and having them concern him in their own affairs wasn’t something he planned to do while lying down.
“Then it’s settled then.” The shorter one nodded to himself decided now on the outcome of Bilbo’s fate. Not if he had any say in the matter of course.
“Excuse me.” Bilbo he politely spoke up. There was no way he was going to anger a Wizard or persons with an axe. He was peeved that they had shown up at all at this hour in fact, and to assume he would do some job they were out of their minds! “Exactly what does this job of yours have to do with me? I haven’t signed anything to warrant any trivial job of doing anything for…by the way who are you?”
The grey wizard’s smile grew wider. “Well Bilbo Baggins, I am Gandalf the Grey. A wizard of sorts, I’m sure you have figured out. My friend here, this is Thorin Oaksheild. We are here to offer you a job, an adventure will sure to ensue. Interested any Mr. Baggins?” Gandalf finished with inhaling his pipe and exhaling in one smooth action.
Bilbo stumbled over his words for a minute, giving Thorin a chance to butt in to the conversation. “Trivial? You’ve got a death wish for thinking anything that I, Thorin Oaksheild son of Thráin, son of Thrór, King Under the Mountain, do anything that’s trivial. This is important. Dwarf matters, which involve you to do a specific job. How well you might do it is debatable, however I trust Gandalf’s opinion on this matter, and we dwarves always pay those who work for us handsomely.”
Finally grabbing his ground on the matter Bilbo stomped his foot a little childishly he would admit, but this was his life and he had a say in any job or adventure he would be going on. Even if that said job was lazing about doing nothing but sitting by the river and fishing for his dinner. “How nice of you to offer, however I am not a hand for hire. If you want someone like that I suggest further up the town. If you’re lucky you might find someone interested. I however am not. “
Thorin tightened his hand on his axe. “Watch your tongue, lad.” His eyes were tightening in a bit of annoyance.
Gandalf however put his staff down to lean against the bench and defused the situation that was quickly going downhill between the Thorin and Bilbo. “I’ll handle the matters here Thorin, I will meet you back at the Green Dragon Inn. I will make sure that things are taken care of, of course Thorin. Have ale waiting for me when I return.”
Thorin nodded once, not wanting to argue with the wizard. He got up and walked over to the white fence that circled Bilbo’s Hobbit estate, where their horses were tied down to. Bilbo almost wanted to shoo off the wizard as well. How dare they tie their horses to his fence! There was a horse stall just down the road. From the looks of things they didn’t plan to stay long though. Good, they will be gone soon then. I’ll humor the wizard, Gandalf he said his name was? Then they will be gone for good. I’ll never have to see them again. He seemed pretty proud with his prospect of no longer having company.
Gandalf gestured for Bilbo to sit next to him, as Thorin mounted his horse and directed it towards the Green Dragon Inn down the road. As Bilbo moved to sit down he wondered how a wizard like Gandalf would actually be able to sit and sleep in the Hobbit inn. After all it wasn’t made for big people like himself. That would be a thought that he would ponder on.
Gandalf refilled his pipe. “Ah, your fish go ahead and run inside and put them away so we can talk about matters approaching, don’t worry I’ll wait. I would also suggest not staying held in your home, for no lock like yours will keep me out.”
Bilbo nodded. “Alright then, I will be right back.” Bilbo grabbed his container and his fishing pole and headed inside rather quickly afraid of the threat Gandalf had given him. He supposed it was best not to mess with a wizard of his stature. It would only bring more trouble on himself. Speaking for himself, he really didn’t want to have trouble. He just wanted the wizard to say what he had to say and leave. He had already made up his mind and he wouldn’t be swayed to do it any way other then he had set his mind to.
He put away his fish in a nice cool bucket of water to keep them cool, he wouldn’t be long he supposed, and then he could make his fish and have a quite night at home. He decided right then and there that he wouldn’t ask Molly out tonight, he would have to do it later. Tomorrow, perhaps if he decided that was what he wanted to do tomorrow. He hoped things will calm down so he could just have a nice evening alone. The wizard was really overstaying his welcome right now.
Bilbo headed outside, closing the door behind him, pipe in hand and his favorite pipe weed to accompany him on this talk. He had a feeling he would need it. He moved to sit next to the old wizard and kept himself silent waiting for the wizard to begin. It was a moment of silence before Gandalf decided to speak. He sat silently puffing on his pipe staring off into the orange horizon. It was a nice night for the fireflies. Too bad Bilbo couldn’t do that now; this was the perfect time of day to enjoy it.
Gandalf finally spoke as Bilbo filled his pipe and started to burn his weed with a strike of his match. Gandalf’s demeanor had seemed to change into something demanding to something more lax and friendly. “Now forget about the job offer for the moment. Let’s talk about you for a moment shall we?”
“Alright, that’s fine with me, I suppose.” Bilbo replied back, glad to have the dwarf gone. He would be glad to oblige the old wizard if it got him to leave.
“I am an old friend of your Took family. You obviously know what I am talking about when I say this, am I correct?”
Bilbo thought about that and pondered it a minute before replying. “I believe I do. I know few Tooks that seem to leave the shire for one reason or another. Is that your doing then?”
Gandalf laughed a bit before he blinked twice and turned his warm eyes on Bilbo. “Hardly, most of them left on their own account. But there is fairy blood that runs through the Took line, which in turn falls into your line as well Mr. Baggins. I am merely helping you to do so. Since most when they do leave are about your age.” He let Bilbo take a puff of his pipe before continuing with the point he was making. “Have you ever had the longing to go somewhere else? To see different sites and enjoy the world you haven’t been blessed to see before?”
Bilbo fidgeted his foot for a moment before righting himself again to sit back into the bench and relax before replying to the wizard’s inquiry. “I have, but it’s only normal for one to think such things. After all, every once in a while will get sick of the same surroundings, and doing the same things over and over again. I guess it’s only natural, I suppose.”
Gandalf nodded to let Bilbo know he was still listening, and then he replied. “However, you’re wrong on your assumption of such. Most hobbits like you that live in Hobbiton, never dream about leaving this place. They work day in and day out enjoying the life that they live and enjoy the peace and quiet. You, Mr. Baggins are a different case. You want something more, even if you, yourself can’t quite understand it. That is where I come in; I am here to help you achieve that goal. Of course, the choice is yours. You will occasionally have to do a job here and there on your adventures, nothing to trivial I hope.” He had thrown that word cunningly back to Bilbo. He was smart and wise, more than Bilbo could ever hope to be.
He swallowed thickly, no response. Gandalf understood that Bilbo was thinking it over, that it was a big step in the direction that he was heading in. In a lot of cases it would be a big change. Life altering, he supposed. But was that a good thing or a bad thing? To even answer that question with another question would also need to be asked. Did he want that change? Did he really want to take that risk of change? He pondered that for a moment. Taking his time he finally spoke back to the wizard. “What would be the job? After all, I would have to know if it’s something that I’m good at. I’m not sure making dinner would be that important, and it wouldn’t be something I did here and there, I would be making food all the time. That’s to say if it would be the three of us going.”
Gandalf at last chuckled. “It wouldn’t be something like that. I will be joining you and Thorin here and there, I will have some matters to attend here and there. But I will be watching out for you. You will be joining Thorin’s company of twelve, which makes Thirteen, Fourteen if you decide to join, as thirteen is an unlucky number indeed. The job you will do will be a burglar of sorts.”
“Great a common pickpocket, that’s wonderful.” Bilbo spoke with distain. He never would have thought someone to think as low of him as a common thief. “So what would I be stealing?”
Gandalf’s lips pursed over his pipe mouth peace. He blew out a smoke ring before he even decided to grace Bilbo with an answer. It seemed that the wizard wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. He changed the subject to something lighter. “I need to prepare those fish, and cook them before they go bad and make my home smell of fish.”
This seemed to get a respond from Gandalf as he stood up and bent over offering his hand to the Hobbit. His smile was generous. “Alright then, we shall continue this conversation inside the warmth of your own home. How does that sound?”
Bilbo nodded in agreement. It seemed reasonable. Besides he would be protected in his own home and if he needed he could kick out the wizard since it was his own home, and the wizard had seemed to understand boundaries as far as privacy was concerned and it made him able to take the information that he was given a little easier to swallow mentally.
He led the wizard into his cozy home, started a fire then began on preparing the fish. The entire time he gutted and prepared the fish the wizard sat in front of the newly started fire and sat silently, as if he had a lot going on in his mind. Bilbo could only guess at what was seemingly troubling the wizard. He didn’t ask, for he wasn’t certain if the wizard would answer him back.
After pulling out the organs and veins out of the fish, he stuffed them with chopped garlic, and basted the insides with lemon juice and rosemary freshly picked from his garden. Once they were prepared he placed them in the heated oven once he started the fire within the clay made stove. He cleaned off his hands a with a goat’s milk soap filled with lavender and started on potatoes and green beans, picked up a few days ago from the farmers market he had visited when he had the time from his routine to gather supplies for his kitchen.
One thing to know about hobbits is besides being full of playful instincts, social gathering, and food, is that they love a full pantry of ingredients to go with it. Without such wonderful herbs, seasoning, vegetables, drink and a warm fire to cook everything the joys of life didn’t seem fulfilling for a hobbit, and in fact made it quite dull. Most hobbits enjoyed trying out new tastes to see what complimented what, and how to cook it. It was a wonderful hobby that most hobbits actually picked up.
It took a good thirty minutes to complete his dinner of four seasons and cooked fish, two baked potatoes complimented with green onions, chives, sour cream, butter, cheese, and bacon bits, with a side of long green beans that were seasoned with sea salt. He placed it all on a nice plate and heated to the sitting room where Gandalf sat quietly not speaking a word the entire time Bilbo was making his meal. It was rather eerie that someone could sit staring at the fire in silence for so long without striking up a conversation anything would do, honestly.
Bilbo pulled up a small lap table that fit right over his lap as he placed his meal out in front of him. “You want any?” Bilbo asked. Like most hobbit folk would. They loved a meal as much as the next one, and when they did have company they tended to enjoy sharing they’re meal with others.
Gandalf shook his head. “I’m fine, go ahead and eat. I will have a meal waiting for me at the Green Dragon Inn, so we better continue with the conversation. You can eat, while I talk. Afterward once your meal is over you can tell me whether you would like to join or not. The job however isn’t up for debate. If you go you will have to be the burglar.”
Bilbo wrinkled his nose at this, but he would hear Gandalf out. At least this would make the conversation go smoother and quicker than if he tried to fight against a losing argument. So he remained quiet, grabbed his fork and knife and started eating his fish while Gandalf talked.
Gandalf turned towards Bilbo in prospect and cleared his voice. “Now then, as you know a little bit of. We need a Burglar to go with Thorin and company to help them gain back what they had lost. Several years ago, before you were born a dwarf kingdom thrived. Inside they had found the heart of the mountain and all the jewels they could ever want. However foolish they boasted about their riches to others, keeping their treasures guarded and hidden away from all others whom wished to take it.
At this time, a dragon named Smaug had heard about their treasure. This would evidentially be the end of the kingdom under the mountain as Dragons, in particular, those that are red enjoy stealing treasure that don’t belong to them and either kill all in their way, or drive them out. Which is the nature of Red Dragons, they tend to enjoy taking something precious that doesn’t belong to them. Smaug, of course had his eyes on Thorin’s kin’s treasure for quite some time. Where ever he had come from, he came quickly, he was fast, strong, and one minded for this treasure.
The dwarves had fought back but ultimately lost their home, and had to live elsewhere. They did try to wage war with the dragon and lost a second time. Those whom survived had been forced to move elsewhere and look for jobs out of their comfort zone somewhat. This made most dwarves homeless and lost.”
            Bilbo by now had finished his dinner. “Lovely story really, but what has this have to do with me? For me to go in undetected would be a feat in itself, and stealing all that treasure outside of this kingdom would take ages. What would they have need of me? “
            Gandalf spoke seriously. “To help them break in without being caught of course. See, you give yourself too little credit. Most hobbits are quite, quick, and most importantly stealthy if they put their mind to it. There is a lot that you can do Bilbo, this is simplistic of what we are asking for you to do. Of course, there is a contract to be signed and arrangements to be made once we get you on the road.”
            Bilbo blundered around his words as he put his plate in the sink and walked back into the sitting room. “B-but-but I haven’t agreed to anything yet! What makes you so sure I’ll go?!”
            Gandalf smiled a little mischievous smile, one that stated he knew a lot more than he was letting on. He stood up grabbed his staff. “I will come to see you on the morrow. You’ll give me your answer then.” With that he was gone and out of the door.
            Bilbo quickly ran to the door to yell at Gandalf that he absolutely wasn’t going on a dangerous adventure with dwarves let alone, off to slay some dragon. However, when he opened the door to yell at the wizard there was no trace of him or even his horse. The only thing that made it less dreamlike was the ashes by the bench, and the horse droppings by the fence. Bilbo closed the door behind him, locked the door despite the wizard’s warning and rubbed his forehead. “Bilbo Baggins, what have you gotten yourself into this time?”
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Over the Rolling Hills of Hobbiton