Chapter Text
DISCLAIMER:
I DO NOT CLAIM THE RIGHTS TO THE HOBBIT BY J.R.R TOLKIEN/THE TOLKIEN ESTATE, OR THE HOBBIT FRANCHISE BY PETER JACKSON. NOT BETA’D. THE ONLY THING I OWN IS BILBO’S SUPERNATURAL ABILITIES AND THE WORD SKJULTLYA, A COMBINATION OF THE RUSSIAN WORD "Earth" AND THE DANISH WORD "Hidden".
* a direct movie/book quote
Khuzdul
Flashback
"Common"
'Thoughts'
Prologue:
Hobbits are very strange creatures. They go by many names: Halflings, Shirelings, Little Folk. But the one this story is about is a Baggins. Bilbo Baggins to be exact.
Chapter 1: Oh we're off to see the hobbit
Narrator POV:
Bilbo begins his day as he has always done, by starting with his morning tea. As Bilbo heads into his kitchen he quickly notices that he is all out of tea leaves. “Oh dear, it looks like I’m all out of tea! I suppose I shall have to visit the market later today.” he sighed disappointedly.
He walks back to his bedroom to get dressed for the day. After putting on his favorite light brown trousers, his father’s old forest green vest, and his silver locket from his mother, he heads out the door of his family home, Bag End. Bag End is an interesting place. Unlike the homes of Men or Dwarves, hobbit homes resemble great trees. The enormous roots on the openings of these dwellings act as camouflage to any would-be predators. The main space inside the home is based underground, in small earthen caverns, much like those of a rabbit or fox den. Although, unlike an animal’s den, hobbit Holes are equipped with the finest array of modern comforts like soft armchairs, fully stocked kitchens, and indoor plumbing. What made Bag End different from the other hobbit houses was its true size. On the surface, it resembled every other smial, but underneath the earth, the number of guest rooms was quite astonishing.
Gandalf POV:
As he rode through the quiet green rolling hills, his mind thought back to the last time he visited his friends in the Shire. Gandalf was just minding his own business, smoking Old Toby from his dragon-shaped cherry wood pipe, when he suddenly felt a pair of arms around his middle. “Gandalf! I’ve missed you!” screamed a very excited young hobbit lass. “Belladonna my dear, how are you?” He chuckled “Have you and Bungo finally tied your roots?” She blushed, ducking her head and smiling. Her fluffy brown hair swayed under a gentle breeze as she slowly gathered her courage before looking back at her old friend. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” She said nervously. “Oh?” the old wizard queried, ever the curious one. “I’m pregnant! Bungo and I are expecting a little sprout of our own soon.” Her face was lit up like the sun on the first day of summer. “Congratulations my dear.” He smiled gently and patted her on the head. A few months later she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy named Bilbo.
“I wonder what happened to little Bilbo?” the gray wizard wondered aloud as he walked up to a familiar lane. Then he spotted the exact entity of his ponderings.
BILBO POV:
Bilbo was seated upon a carved log bench; his eyes closed as he faced the afternoon sun. Tendrils of smoke escaped his lips as he smoked from his mahogany pipe. Suddenly he started to choke on his smoke being blown back into his face. “What?” he choked out in confusion. “Hello.” chuckled a gravelly, unknown voice. Now, hobbits do not like strangers. Part of Yavanna’s gift to them is their ability to shift their skin and hair to match their surroundings. However, Bilbo’s Baggins half can’t help but want to be polite so he curtly replies, “Good morning.” as he attempts to go back into his home. The strange old man looks offended at being so easily dismissed. “Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not, or that you feel particularly good this morning, or that it is a morning to be good on?”* Bilbo paused as his brow began to furrow in confusion, “All of them at once I suppose.” * he sighed before settling back on his bench. “Who are you anyway? We don’t have much contact with Big Folk around here.” Bilbo was surprised by how affronted the gray cloaked figure appeared then. “I am Gandalf! And Gandalf means… me!” he shouted, his voice deepening into a thundering growl. “Gandalf? Not the wandering wizard who used to take my mother on adventures?” Bilbo questions. Gandalf suddenly breaks out into a smile as he looks down at the son of his best friend. “That would be me. I’m here looking for someone to join in an adventure.”
“An adventure? Can’t say too many hobbits around here would be interested in adventures. Maybe one of the Tooks down in Tuckborough or a Brandybuck from Brandywine Hall. Certainly, no one around here would want to go. Adventures make one late for dinner, after all.” He puffs.
“I think an adventure is just what you need, Bilbo Baggins, son of Belladonna,” Gandalf mumbles as he starts to walk away. “Well that was a strange encounter,” mutters Bilbo as he goes inside. After a few moments, Gandalf sneaks over unknown to the homeowner and starts to carve a rune above Bilbo’s pale green door. “This will be fun.”