The warm sun shined down on Bilbo’s smiling face as he made his way out of the Shire for final time. Bilbo could not remember the last time that he was this happy, he felt free and his old heart felt young again as he marched forward. He was working his way towards Rivendell to visit some old friends, but this would just be the first stop on his journey. Bilbo planned to retrace his steps of ages ago and visit the dwarves of the lonely mountain, a sight he has not seen in a long time.
As he walked Bilbo put his hand in his pocket, hoping to find the ring that he had carried with him since that journey.
“That’s right I forgot,” he said aloud, “The ring is now Frodo’s to bare and probably for the best too.”
Bilbo has carried the ring for so long that it now in many ways had become a part of him. He knew that getting over the loss of his ring might be one of the hardest things he had ever done, the ring had a hold on Bilbo more than he might have thought.
“I sure hope this adventure will make me forget and move on from the ring once and for all!” Bilbo yelled aloud as he walked.
A few nights past of Bilbo camping and walking before he reached the end of the Shire. By the end of the first week of Bilbo’s journey he reached the town of Bree and the inn The Prancing Pony which was located in the center of the town. Bree, while located out of the Shire had a decent population of both men and hobbits. Once Bilbo got settled in to the inn he went down from his room to have a few drinks before bed, after all he didn’t know when he would be able to do this again. The bar was mostly empty, which was unusual for the Prancing Pony which was usually a lively hangout. Sitting in a corner of the room was a man dressed in all black with his hood up.
“Looks like a Ranger,” thought Bilbo to himself, “maybe I’ll go over and introduce myself considering there isn’t much else for company here.”
“Mind if I have a seat,” Bilbo asked the man sitting in the corner.
“Not at all, some company from such a famous hobbit is always welcome,” said the stranger.
“How do you know who I am?” replied Bilbo rather surprised.
“I am a Ranger from the North, it is partly my job to know such things about the land that I am assigned to patrol. Though, Bilbo Baggins your story has been heard by many far and wide. You’re probably the most famous Hobbit to ever live.”
“Well you seem to know enough about me,” responded Bilbo, “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself, for starters I do not even know your real name.”
“My name is Strider, though I cannot tell you anymore about my business in this land,” Replied Strider. “As I’m sure you are well aware of, the work of rangers can be rather secretive at times. I just have one question for you Bilbo Baggins.”
“Well go ahead,” replied Bilbo rather impatiently.
“What is a hobbit such as yourself doing so far out of the Shire, even for a hobbit such as yourself, it is rather strange to wonder so far from home?” questioned Strider.
“Well, “started Bilbo, “I am going on my last adventure, as you might have known I am not like normal hobbits. I’ve been itching to take this journey almost since I came back from the first one.”
“And where is a hobbit such as you self-heading,” questioned Strider sounding rather confused this time.
“I am essentially retracing the steps of my journey that I took with the dwarves ages ago,” answered Bilbo, who was beginning to get more and more excited as he began to talk of his upcoming adventure. “First I am going to travel to Rivendell and then from there too the lonely mountain I’ll go to visit some old friends. I will then go back to Rivendell where I will remain with the elves for the rest of my days. I will miss the Shire, but I have come to see that is not that place for me anymore.”
“Your journey is a dangerous one Bilbo Baggins,” warned Strider, “I feel there is a darkness growing on the horizon, I just do not know what it is just yet. Just be careful Bilbo, the world has changed a great deal since your last adventure.”
The two talked for a while, mostly sharing stories of old. After a while both men decided it was time for bed. After all Bilbo had an early morning tomorrow, continuing his journey to his first destination Rivendell.
Bilbo woke at the crack of dawn the next day as to get an early start on this days march. First thing Bilbo did was fix himself a good breakfast, after all he would need the energy for the day. Also hobbits loved there food, Bilbo would’ve probably made the same breakfast if he has nothing to do all day but sit around and smoke pipe weed.
As Bilbo headed east on the road out of town he though back to all those years ago when he, Gandalf, and Thorin and company marched on this very same road. As he walked he must have gotten lost in his thoughts instead of staying alert to the world around him.
Out of nowhere someone grabbed Bilbo from behind and covered his mouth so he couldn’t make any noise. He was dragged off the road and into some brush where three other men all wearing masks waited.
“Help!” cried Bilbo at the top of his lungs once the hand had been removed from his mouth.
“Keep him quit yelled” yelled one.
At that moment one of the masked men held Bilbo down and bound his hands and feet. The man then threw him over his shoulder and walked off into the woods away from the road with the rest of the masked men.
“Strider was right,” thought Bilbo, “the world is much more dangerous now that it once was. This last adventure might not have been such a good idea after all.”
