The Shadow Walker

4. Babysitting. Lovely.

Gandalf frowned and met my gaze, finding me with ease. Whatever this was, he was just as clueless as I. I ran in the shadows, toward the lane of Hobbit holes where Gandalf had said Bag End was situated. There it was, a door with a magical mark, greatly faded and covered over with layers of paint, but still glowing. That same door opened and closed, seemingly unaided. I vaulted the low stone wall and slipped behind the bushes below the window, listening.

"I suppose you think that was very clever," Gandalf said. How had he gotten here before me? Wizards, I thought, rolling my eyes.

Baggins gasped, then chuckled. "Oh, come now Gandalf! Did you see their faces?" A moment of silence. I could imagine Gandalf's reproving frown. Baggins sighed. "You're probably right, as usual."

"There are many magic rings, Master Baggins, and none of them should be used lightly."

Oh dear. Here came a lecture. I slipped away to grab my things; If my gut was right in its thinking, Bilbo would probably leave tonight - and soon. I ran to the sloped field opposite Bag End, fast as my legs would carry me. I'd hidden my provisions and weapons in a stand of underbrush, but in the dark, it was hard to tell one clump of bushes from another. There, that looked right. I went down on my hands and knees and reached into the bushes. My fingertips grazed the leather strap, and I pulled my satchel free. Slung it over my shoulder, grabbed my twin swords, and trotted back.

As I approached, the door opened. I dove behind the stone wall, out of sight.

"Bilbo," came Gandalf's unamused voice. "The ring is still in your pocket."

"Oh," Gandalf's pet said, attempting to chuckle and failing. "Right."

A long, deadly pause. My own heartbeat hammered in my chest. Something felt so... off. Something clanked loudly, and I jumped. What was that?

The Hobbit sighed, and his footsteps thudded into the courtyard. Then he stopped. "I've just thought of an ending for my book," he said. "'And they lived happily ever after, until the end of their days.'"

"And so you shall, my old friend," Gandalf replied, his tone warm once again.

Bilbo came out the gate a moment later, letting it swing shut behind him. He didn't notice me sprawled out between the wall and the road, fortunately. Instead, he started singing, "The road goes ever on and on..."

"So you shall," Gandalf repeated in a murmur.

With the Hobbit's back safely turned, I stood and hopped over the wall, and walked to Gandalf. He was gazing after his pet thoughtfully. "I do hope you'll look out after him," he said, still staring off in the distance. "I'm very fond of him."

I strapped my swords on; one blade on each hip. "This is child's play compared to my usual work." At his unconvinced grunt, I added, "Although, I'm usually paid to trek halfway across Middle Earth."

Gandalf scowled at me, but it was halfhearted, and he pulled a worn pouch from the many folds of his robe. Handing it to me, he said, "I'll give you the other half in Rivendell. Or whenever we met next, if I'm mistaken."

I raised an eyebrow, impressed at the weight of the pouch. "Where does a wizard like you get funding like this?"

Gandalf scowled again, and I got the sense he was getting genuinely irritated. I do have that affect on people. "If you must know, it was a gift from Bilbo for the fireworks. Now, my favorite Hobbit is wandering the streets alone, in the dark."

I gave the pouch a light jingle. "I'm on it." And hopping over the stone wall one more time, I trotted after the Hobbit.

He hadn't gotten far, just to the bottom of the hill. He'd stopped singing, and was sticking mostly to the shadows, occasionally slipping into cover when another Hobbit was passing by. In the background, I heard the faint call of a young man: "Bilbo! ...Bilbo!"

Baggins glanced over his shoulder at that, and gave a reluctant sigh, but didn't turn back. That has been Baggins Jr., then. Frodo. I smiled to myself a little; perhaps I should start using their given names for personal clarity.

Bilbo walked for hours, I trailing him at a distance. He would, from time to time, glance over his shoulder, and I'd have to jump behind a tree or some such nonsense. Ridiculous as it is, I find it much easier to babysit someone when they don't know they're being babysat.

The road Bilbo followed wound it's way between fields and into a forest. It wasn't a thick forest, but the trees were massive, and old. The very smell hinted that the forest was ancient. My legs began to grow tired; stealth is hard work! But finally, we came to the Brandywine river. Not a terribly wide river, but definitely deep and cold enough to require a boat. And luckily, no ferries would be running this late at night. But Bilbo waddled right up into the dock, where another Hobbit was standing, hiding knew end of a rope. The other end led down into the water.

I internally groaned. No way. No bloody way under Eru's blessed sky.

"Thank you," Bilbo said to the other Hobbit, then took the rope and stepped down into the boat. Seating himself, he picked up the paddles and began to row himself to the issue shore.

What in Morgoth's name am I supposed to do now?