SEVEN DEVILS, fili durin

PROLOGUE

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

Now, you must understand before you enjoy this tale, Bilbo Baggins enjoyed his peaceful and mundane life, as most hobbits around his age do. Though yes, perhaps once upon a time he would of liked to find out more about the world outside of the Shire, to do more than read about others and their adventures and wonder what it'd be like to have one, but that curiously, that desire was long since pushed behind him. He was content here, in his home with others like him, content to smoke in his little garden, overlooking the lush greens of the hillside with a calm smile.

And yet, on this particular morning, the Took inside his bloodline screamed for a certain kind of release. A one that told him to get off of his bottom, and go on his own miniature adventure, explore around the outskirts of the Shire and see what he could find. It was the closest he'd ever get to the stories he'd read, and in all honesty, the most he was comfortable with. So, he'd packed a small snack, bound a book to his side and set off, murmuring greetings to his fellow neighbours and hobbits as he walked past them, closing his eyes in bliss as the sun bared down upon him, caressing his face with warm glow and happy to just breath in the summer air, truly the Shire was the best place for a person like him to be.

The birds were singing beautifully, filling the air with their delightful songs, the farmers were farming, the bakers were making and the numerous voices of his fellow inhabitants were taking to each other cheerfully, however, the further he walked away from them all, the quieter it became. Even the sky seemed darker the closer he got to the outside world..and as he walked across a bridge that resided over a small river, he couldn't help but pause as he noticed something...odd lying amongst the dirty and damp soil, half submerged in the waters beside it.

"What on earth is that?" He mumbled to himself, his voice barely even louder than a mere mumble, narrowing his eyes and stepping closer with a certain hesitation blossoming it's way through his veins as he lingered, his body brushing the side of the wooden bridge as he leaned over it, standing on the tips of his large toes to get a clearer look at it. He couldn't see much of it, whatever it was, in fact it looked like some-hobbits laundry had flown away and landed onto the bank, however, what he found strange was around the robes, things seemed to be...decaying.

A bundle of bushes that's leaves had withered up, turning a dark, inky looking black and curling in on itself grotesquely, the ground underneath the oddity was cracked and splintered ominously, and the most alarming part of all was he could spot two dead birds and a rabbit, lying close to the cluster of something, with no signs of why they had died.

Bilbo nervously licked his lips, his mouth suddenly going dry as he took a final step closer, hands shaking with nerves as a knot formed in the pit of his stomach, and that's when he saw something he wished he hadn't. There was a foot. A pale and ashen, bloodstained foot under the pile of dark robes, brushing through the clear waters and staining them a dark, glaring red. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

He took a step forward, and then a step back, then a step to the side, dancing on the tip of his toes and his breath coming out in short pants. That was definitely a person, quite possibly a dead person lying there, concealed in robes, actually, they could be the robes, they may not even be a hobbit. He couldn't see the height from here, but their foot most definitely didn't belong to any hobbit he'd ever seen. Bilbo took a deep, heaving breath, swallowing his fears and called out a shaky, "Hello? Are you alright down there?" He paused, waiting for a response and not knowing to feel relieved, nervous or terrified when he got nothing of the sort.

The halfling settled for a mixture of three as he fiddled with his suspenders that rested on his shoulders. He tried once more, "Do you need any help?" Of course they need help, they're submerged in the river and bleeding for hobbit's sake. He thought to himself angrily, resisting the urge to slap a hand against his forehead in exasperation. He looked around, bracing his hands on the bridge as he looked over and under it, searching for a way to get down there, and finally spotting a unreliable looking ladder at the far end of it, splintered and a few of the steps broken.