The Great Oak

Author's note: This is Unbeta'd and written on a phone. If you find any mistakes feel free to let me know.

The Shire is a small town about 3 to 4 hours west of Bree. It is surrounded by soft, rolling hills and lazy rivers. In this small town there is a tree. It is large in both height and width; some roots are even bigger than a man. It is the focal point of tourism for this town, and it is said that this tree is older than record itself. To the peaceful inhabitants of the Shire it has always been and always will be. This tree is an Oak Tree.

For as long as Bilbo Baggins can remember the Great Oak has always been a steady, consistent presence in his life. And for as long as he can remember it has always felt familiar. Now is not a familiarity born of being raised around it like one’s home or family, no this familiarity is different. He cannot place how or why, but then again he is only 8 years old and doesn't really care.

He is 11 when his parents die, his mother of sickness and his father only a few short days after, overdosed on sleeping pills. The tree has never seemed more comforting than it did in the months following. After that he becomes more reserved and politely declines any attempts to friendship. Its better this way, at least he can't be hurt.

Every day he goes to the Great Oak. It is the only constant thing in his life. Don't get him wrong his Godfather, Gandalf, is nice and everything but it's not the same. Sometimes, though, when he looks at Gandalf that same familiarity the Great Oak gives him is there. As the years drag on that familiarity gets stronger.

***

Bilbo wakes in a cold sweat, tears streaming down his face. It is the dream again. He has had these dreams since he was young, but this particular dream has only recently started to occur. He does not like and he wishes his mind would stop showing him such gruesome things.

It is always the same. It starts with him in a dulled world, the colors faded and the sound muffled. That doesn't mean what he hears is any less haunting. The cries of agony, the blood curtailing screams, the clash of metal on metal and sickening crunch of bone breaking or necks snapping. All around him people are dying. All around him is blood, death, and violence. Still in his dream He ignores it heading for a large mountainous hill, where oddly enough, there are people riding on large Billy Goats to the top. That is his destination. That is where he needs to be.

When he gets to the top he finds two people standing there. Their faces are blurred and their voices muffled as is his own voice. Then there is a yell and when he turns to see the source he is met with even more blurred shapes, one of which is holding another dangerously off the cliff that he stands on. The person holding the other says something before running the man in his grasp through with a blade. He then let's go to let the body fall...

His dream goes black and when it comes into focus he is cradling a figure in his arms. The pain he feels in this moment is like the pain he felt when his parents died, only somehow it seems to hurt even more. In this part he can catch parts of what he and dying man are saying, but not much. Then speaks of food and warmth and he in turn talks of the arrival of eagles. When the man looks up he does not see. It is at this part that Bilbo always wakes the pain of loss fresh in his heart.

Bilbo gets up, takes a shower, and pushes the dream to the back of his mind, using the technique his therapist taught him. He is enjoying a peaceful breakfast when there's a knock on the door. He looks ruefully at it before getting up to answer just as another knock rings in his empty home. The knocker is none other than his godfather. He smiles and welcomes him into his small, yet spacious home. It has been a while since Bilbo has seen him last, probably since he turned 18. He's 27 now.

"What brings you back to the Shire," Bilbo asks.

Ever since Bilbo was old enough and Gandalf was sure he would do fine with on his own, Gandalf had taken to what he does best. Traveling. He might call in from time to time and he does send post cards (he even went as far as to invite Bilbo to come once which was denied), but as far as physically being in the Shire is concerned he wasn't.