Chapter Text
Dear C,
When I woke this morning, I did not expect to be standing outside the Shire. Yes, you read that right, the Shire, the place in Middle Earth.
At first, I thought it was at the Hobbiton in New Zealand.
I looked at the surroundings around me; I knew I was standing in front of Bag End. I could see the famous green door and its brass doorknob. But the questions are; how did I get here, and why was I here?
I stood there, dazed and confused about what was happening. Until I heard a faint squeaking noise coming towards my direction. I turned my head to see a man come up the hill rolling a wheelbarrow full of carrots and cabbages. I started to walk closer to him and realizing this man wasn’t getting any taller.
My first thought was they hired actors for tourists. Then my second thought was that hiring actors to play hobbits was a bit insensitive.
When he finally saw me, he put down his wheelbarrow, looked up, and forced a smile. He wore a green hat with a feather in it and had a large grey beard that went all the way down to his stomach. “Hello, can I help you?” He asked hesitantly.
“Yes, can you tell me where I can find a telephone?”
“Pardon?”
“A phone, I know this may sound weird, but I don’t know how I got here.” I nervously laughed.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what that is.”
At this point, I was getting irritated and a little anxious. “I’m serious. I don’t know why I’m here, and I need a telephone to call for help.”
“I’m sorry, madam, I can’t help you, but maybe Bilbo Baggins can; his house is right there.”
He gestured to Bag End.
Before I could reply, he picked up his wheelbarrow, continued down the road, mumbling about outsiders, and shook his head. I huffed as I watched him go down the hill disappearing out of sight.
I finally walked back up to Bag End’s gate. I still didn’t believe this indeed was the Shire, so I stood outside the gate with my arms crossed, looking at the door, debating whether I should play into this prank.
After many grunts and eye-rolling, I decided it was worth a shot to knock on the door to see if anyone answered.
I walked up the stone steps. Then slowly, I moved my hand towards the door, thinking someone I knew would jump out and scare me, but no one did, so I knocked.
To my surprise, someone answered with “coming!”
The door opened, and there stood Martin Freeman dressed as Bilbo. “Yes, can I help you?” he asked.
My eyes grew wide as I stood there staring at him, now this sick joke was going too far, “You’re Martin Freeman,” I stated.
He gave me a confused look then looked behind me to see if I was talking to anyone else, “No, um, I’m Bilbo Baggins. I’ve never heard of this, Martin,” he replied.
He either was playing his character,, or maybe, he really was Bilbo Baggins.
I turned around to see the rest of the Hobbiton. People were either talking, fishing, or tending to their gardens. So many questions ran through my mind. Could this be the real Shire? And the real Bilbo Baggins? I turned back to face him. If this was the real Bilbo and Middle Earth, where was I in this universe? Was this before the Battle of the Five Armies or after? It couldn’t be the time of Lord of the Rings; he didn’t look old enough.
I must have been staring too long because he shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, Bil… I mean, Mister Baggins, could you tell me if you know a wizard by the name of Gandalf the Gray?”
He furrowed his eyebrows together, “Gandalf… Gandalf… you’re not talking about Gandalf, the wandering wizard who made such excellent fireworks are you?”
“That’s the one; you haven’t seen him recently, have you?” I said, a little too eagerly.
“I can’t say that I have. I don’t think he’s in business anymore.”
So, before then, the next question came after that, when will Gandalf visit?
I was hoping he could help me get back to our world. I looked down at his appearance; he wore the same yellow vest and blue ascot on the day Gandalf does come. But that doesn’t prove anything. Asking the year wasn’t going to help either. I’m not very good at years, even in our world. I’ve read both The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings but not close enough to know any specific year.
I couldn’t wait around for Gandalf to show up. I looked back towards the road leading out of The Shire, thinking I could travel to Rivendell to see Lord Elrond. Maybe he would be able to help. But I didn’t know how to get there, and with having no supplies or money, I wasn’t going to make it very far. If I knew how to get there by some miracle, I was going to starve to death before I even made it.
The air around me was getting thicker, making it harder to breathe. I was hoping this was all a dream, and I would wake up at any time. I faced Bilbo once again, “whoa, are you alright?” He asked, “you look like a ghost.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not feeling quite well,” I replied through deep breaths.
He shifted his feet, “Would you like to come inside and have a cup of tea? Maybe that will help.”
I hesitated but finally said, “That would be lovely, thank you, Mister Baggins,” faking a smile.
“Call me Bilbo, and you are?” He asked, moving out of the doorway, signaling me to come in.
“Oh, where are my manners, Alexandria Walker at your service,” I bowed, “but, please call me Alex,” I said, as I walked in.
If I hadn’t already been freaking out, I definitely would be freaking out about being inside of Bag End. I looked around and saw how wonderful it was. Sun was beaming through the windows, making the place brighter, a few plants were dangling from the ceiling, and books piled up on tables.
Bilbo closed the door behind me; I saw the door’s intricate design and couldn’t help but smile. “You have a lovely home,” I said, turning to him.
His face turned pink as he replied, “Oh, uh, thank you, please, right this way.”
With being at least two feet taller than him, I had to make sure I didn’t hit my head on anything. We walked into his parlor room. “Please, sit and make yourself comfortable while I go and make us some tea,” he said, pointing to one of the chairs in front of the fireplace.
As I sat down, he walked into the kitchen, while I sat down. I then realized what I was wearing when I felt something poking my side. It was not something I would wear in our world. It was a dark blue dress coat with a hood. The middle from the waste down was open to show the brown pants that I wore along with brown leather boots. That's when I figured out what was poking me, a corset. “Of course,” I mumbled to myself.
I also noticed my hair was back to its natural blonde color, instead of Blue.
Bilbo came back with a tea tray with the teapot and cups along with assorted biscuits. He set down the tray on the table between the two seats. “Now, may I ask why you are seeking Gandalf?” He asked while pouring tea in each cup.
“It’s a bit complicated, but I’m hoping he can help me find my way back home.”
“Sugar?” He asked.
I shook my head no then took the cup. “Well, most people use a map to find their way home. Did you lose yours?”
I chuckled at his comment then replied, “No, and my home is not on any one of your maps.”
“Well, where is it then?” He questioned as he sat down with his tea.
I thought about it; I don’t think he would believe me if I told him the truth. “Let’s just say I’m from a distant world.”
He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, but he didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, it was this uncomfortable silence. I looked around the room; the place was clean and tidy like a display home, which will soon change when he returns from Erebor.
I turned to see a picture of Bilbo’s parents. Bilbo followed where my eyes were looking at. “My parents,” he said, “Bungo Baggins and Belladonna Baggins, formally known as Took.”
“She’s beautiful,” I smiled.
“Yes, she was; she passed away a long time ago, along with my father. Now, it’s just me.”
He smiled, but I could see the sadness in his eyes. He looked in the distance like he was in a different place. I patted his hand that was resting on the armchair. He quickly blinked, then asked, “What about your family?”
I removed my hand from his arm. “Oh, my father is still alive, along with my other siblings, but sadly my mother became sick, and she passed away,” I said, then took a sip of my tea.
“I’m truly sorry,” he said, looking at the floor.
“Thank you, and I’m sorry too.”
There suddenly came a knock on the door, pulling us out of our heartfelt conversation. “Well, it seems I am popular today; no, please sit and enjoy your tea.” He said while walking away to answer the door.
I could hear the door open, followed by Bilbo gasping. “Well, if it isn’t Gandalf, the Wandering Wizard!” Bilbo exclaims.
I jumped out of my seat, running to the door. I ducked out of the way, but nearly fast enough and hit the beam I forgot about. “I have a visitor who says she needs your help,” Bilbo explained, as he let Gandalf inside.
“Oh? And who might that be?” Gandalf asked.
He turned around and saw me rubbing my forehead. I couldn’t help but sigh in relief to see him. “Alexandria Walker, a pleasure to meet your acquaintance,” I replied.
“Sorry, but I thought you already knew him,” Bilbo said; he was more asking than telling.
“I do; I mean, I know about him, of course. I’ve heard many stories.”
Gandalf was still looking at me, but his facial expression changed into a look I was all too familiar with. He was studying me.
“What can I help you with, Miss Walker?” He asked me with his gruff voice.
“Alex, please. No, my problem can wait. You came here for Bilbo, not I. If this is a more private conversation, I can wait outside,” I replied.
I was hoping he would say no. I wanted to see this play out. You already know, of course C, that this scene is one of my favorite scenes from the film.
“No, you can stay. Are you sure your issue can wait?” He asked.
I nodded my head at him, eagerly waiting for this conversation. He gave me one last look before turning to Bilbo.
“Mister Bilbo! I’m glad that you remembered my name after all these many years.”
“Well, if it weren’t for Alex here, it would have taken me quite a while for me to remember,” Bilbo gestured towards me, “Please, have some tea with us. We will move our conversation to the dining room.”
Gandalf leaned his staff against the wall near the door, then started following Bilbo. “Oh, watch your- head,” before I could finish my sentence, Gandalf knocked his head on the beam.
Bilbo went to get another cup for Gandalf from the kitchen while we sat down. All you could hear was Bilbo, clattering dishes as we sat in silence, staring at each other. Although he was smiling at me, I could tell Gandalf was studying me again. I tried to avert my eyes to my teacup, which was way too small for my hands. When Bilbo came back, however, he stopped looking at me and focused on Bilbo.
Bilbo sat down at the head of the table, “Now, how can I help you, Gandalf?” He asked before taking a sip of his tea.
“I’m looking for someone to share an adventure.”
Bilbo nearly dropped his cup but caught it just in time. He looked at Gandalf in bewilderment, and his mouth fell open. “An advent-,” he shook his head, “no, I don’t imagine anyone west of Bree would have much of interest in adventures.”
He stood up to pour more tea for himself, “nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things, make you late for dinner,” He sat back down, but not before grabbing a biscuit.
Gandalf grunted, “You’ve changed, and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins.”
“I have not changed. I’m a hobbit. We don’t go running off having… adventures.” He whispered that last part as if it was a forbidden word.
“Well, that’s decided. It’ll be very good for you,” He said as he took a sip of his tea.
Bilbo looked at me in puzzlement, while I was trying to hide my smile by taking a drink from my tea.
“And most amusing for me, I shall inform the others,” Gandalf smiled.
“Inform the who…? What!? No! We do not want any adventures here, thank you, not… I suggest you try over the hill or… across the water. Or Alex here,” He gave Gandalf a stern look.
Gandalf looked at him then at me. “Yes, yes, alright.” He waved his hand at Bilbo but was looking at me.
But my smile grew wider because I, of course, knew he wasn’t listening to Bilbo. “Now, on to your problem, Miss Alex.”
Instantly, my face became serious. I set down my empty teacup on the table. I didn’t exactly know how to begin. “You see, Gandalf, I’m trying to get home, but I don’t know how to. I was hoping you can help me with that.”
“Surely a map can help you with that,” He laughed.
“Yes, but you see,” I sighed.
How was I supposed to explain my situation to him? “I am not from this world.”
His face turned grim, “what do you mean by that?”
I had to tell him whether he believed me or not, “You’re not going to believe me but, I’m from a different world, not Middle Earth or the Undying Lands. I’m from a place called North America. It doesn’t exist in your world, just like Middle Earth doesn’t exist in mine.”
“Then how do you know our world?” Bilbo asked, intrigued, but I could tell from his voice he was a bit skeptical.
“I know this sounds crazy, and it is, but in my world, you guys are characters from a book,”
Bilbo laughed at that, “It’s true! I know what happens in the future because I’ve read the book!”
And seen the movies, but I wasn’t about to explain what movies are. “Here, I’ll prove it. I know that you plan on having fish for dinner tonight. Although I would plan for a bigger meal.” I mumbled that last part.
Bilbo’s eyes grew wide but then furrowed his eyebrows, “That was just a lucky guess,” He sputtered.
I rolled my eyes and sighed, trying to figure out what I could spoil without ruining anything. “Fine, Gandalf,” I looked over at Gandalf sitting awfully quiet and staring at me with an expression of skepticism, but it was growing into belief, “what would you say to me if I said good morning to you.”
“I would say, what do you mean? Did you mean to wish me-”
“A good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? 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?” I finished the rest of his speech.
I’m so glad I didn’t screw that line up. It had been a while since I watched or read The Hobbit. Gandalf just looked at me, and I could see a small smirk on his lips, while Bilbo was moving his head back and forth between the two of us like he was a bobblehead. “That’s exactly right,” he finally said.
“Oh, I understand what’s happening,” Bilbo said.
Gandalf and I both looked at him. “You do?” I asked in relief.
I didn’t think he would.
“Oh yes, you two are working together to convince me to go on this adventure of yours.”
Or maybe he didn’t.
Before Gandalf and I could deny it, he continued, “well, I won’t have it.”
He stood up from his seat, “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you both to leave,” he said as he pointed his finger towards the door.
I stood up from my seat and walked towards him. “No, Bilbo, you don’t understand it’s not like that,” I argued.
“I won’t hear any more of it Miss Walker, thank you for coming, but it’s time for you to leave,” He said, looking down at the floor.
I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. “Come, Alex, let us leave Mister Baggins alone,” Gandalf said softly.
I nodded my head then said, “I’m sorry, Bilbo, for any inconvenience I have caused you.” Then we walked towards the front door.
“And for your information, I won’t be having fish tonight,” Bilbo yelled as Gandalf closed the door.
“Now, Miss Alex, If you can tell the future, then you know the purpose of trying to recruit Bilbo,” Gandalf grunted as he leaned down to write the mark on the door.
“Of course, You are trying to find a burglar for Thorin Oakenshield, to steal the Arkenstone from Smaug,” I said, as we walked down Bilbo’s steps.
He grunted in agreement. “I’m sorry, I cannot help you with your situation.”
I knew it was too good to be true.
“Oh, I see,” I mumbled.
“But I might know somebody who can. We will have to visit Rivendell, we’ll stray away from Thorin and company when we get close, but Lord Elrond may be able to help you. Do you have supplies for the journey?” He asked.
“I sadly do not; I have only been here for maybe an hour,” I replied.
“Yes, well, I’m sure they have something here in the Shire; come along, Miss Alex, we must hurry if we want to be back in time before the dwarfs come,” He started walking towards the market, but then he stopped suddenly and turned towards me. “I have to ask. what race are you?” He asked.
It was an odd question, but I answered it anyway, “Man, of course.”
He nodded his head slowly. “That remains to be seen,” He said before turning back around.
When they say Gandalf is an odd person, they weren’t joking. I hesitated but eventually followed.
We found a bag big enough to fit me, and we filled it with enough food and essentials for the journey to Rivendell. Of course, Gandalf paid for all of this because I have no money to my name, which I will be forever grateful for.
By the time we were done, it was close to nightfall and just in time for us to return to Bag End. But as we were walking back, something caught my eye, a small chestnut-brown leather journal. I picked it up and held it in my hands, caressing the front, feeling soft leather. Gandalf bought it for me before I could put it back down. And this is how I’m writing to you C, in this lovely journal, hoping one day you will get to read this incredible and truly impossible story.