A Shot in the Dark (Thilbo - Bagginshield)

Chapter 1

Gandalf observed the Hobbit before him carefully.

As far as Hobbits went, he seemed no different from any other. He was of average height and built for his race, which was short and dense. He dressed as most Hobbits were: in a simple and modest attire of a button-down shirt, brown trousers, and no shoes. The Hobbit properly trimmed his thick hair around his face and smelled of soap and fresh bread. Regarding appearances, Bilbo Baggins was a respectable Hobbit.

Too bad he had never put much stake in appearances.

"Good morning," he greeted pleasantly, planting his staff on the ground and leaning against it slightly.

The Hobbit glanced up at him from beneath his thick brown curls. He stared at him briefly with light brown eyes - Belladonna's eyes, he noted - before a broad smile crossed his face.

"Good morning, Master Gandalf," Bilbo returned, raising his pipe in greeting.

Gandalf's brows met his hairline. He had not expected to be recognized, least of all, by the very one he had sought out. "You know me, my young friend?"

"Of course. My mother spoke highly of you until the end of her days." The Hobbit puffed his pipe and blew out a lazy smoke ring. "We Baggins never forget a friend, you know. Even one we have not seen in decades."

"Indeed." He did not know if he was to feel happy, proud, or surprised by this turn of events. The perplexing feelings made him want to smile, for it had been far too long since he had been this entertained widely. "Since you seem to know me so well, might I ask you a question?"

Bilbo waved a lazy hand. "Ask away, good sir."

He leaned forward and tilted his hat to meet the young Hobbit's eyes. "I am looking for someone to share an adventure with me. Would you care to be that one?"

Bilbo's polite expression did not change, but he put his pipe down in his lap. "Perhaps. But first, tell me more about this adventure."

This time, Gandalf did not hold back his smile.

~*~

Once Gandalf was on his way with a promise to return for dinner, Bilbo calmly stood up and walked back into his home, shut the door and locked it, and then proceeded to have a minor breakdown.

Oh sweet Eru, I can't believe I just did that, he thought, leaning his back against the door and slowly sliding to the floor. It had taken every ounce of self-control not to break down and tell the wizard every little thing to happen with Thorin and company, Frodo and the ring, and even Saruman and his betrayal. And to have to look into the face of his oldest and dearest friend and lie. Bilbo was still determining how he would face the rest of his (dead) companions if he couldn't even face Gandalf for five minutes.

Stop it, Bilbo. You can do this. Just remember why you are telling these lies in the first place, he reminded himself firmly. You made a plan; now stick with it!

After recognizing the rare opportunity given to him - and having a mental breakdown over the possibilities - Bilbo constructed a plan. It was a basic plan that followed one line of thought: do not let anyone die again. He had made it simply because he realized he could not change every little detail of their journey just because it suited him. Certain events had to happen - like Thorin's battle with Azog - even if he didn't like them.

Though he was still on the fence about the troll situation, being a troll handkerchief was not his finest moment.

Of course, his actual problem lay not in making a plan but acting on it. Bilbo knew it was easy to say that he would do this and that when the time came, and he had no fear that he would fail to act when it did. No, the real challenge lay in reliving days he had already experienced with people he treasured, but who would see him as nothing more than an outsider?