King in Exile

Chapter 9: Hobbiton Hospitality

We arrived in the Shire on a clear afternoon in mid-April. Thorin decided that the best way to find the hobbit-hole with the mark would be to split up. The burglar turned out to be a Hobbit, and he wasn't expecting company. When he opened the round green door of his hobbit-hole, I stepped in, hung up my red hood beside Dwalin's green one, and said, "Balin at your service!"

The Hobbit looked shocked, but he swallowed and said, "Thank you. And- and- Bilbo Baggins at yours. W- would you like some tea and biscuits?" he stammered.

I followed him into the dining room. As I left the entry hall, I noticed the many pegs for cloaks and hats – which was lucky, considering the thirteen Dwarves who were about to arrive. Walking through the house, I saw that the corridors were tube-shaped with carpeted floors. Everywhere I looked, I saw comfy chairs, crackling fireplaces, mahogany bookshelves, and scented candles. It reminded me of the Prancing Pony – comfortable, warm, and pleasant.

When I got to the dining room, I saw Dwalin eating the last of poor Bilbo's pastries. Bilbo handed me some biscuits and jelly, and I sat down at the table. Bilbo began preparing more tea nervously, when the doorbell rang. The Hobbit looked up from his work, and slowly shuffled to the door. The bell rang again, and he quickened his pace, a startled look on his face.

I heard the door open, and the voice of Fíli and Kíli introducing themselves to a speechless Bilbo. The Hobbit showed them into the dining room, handed them a cup of tea, and sat down in the corner. Soon, the doorbell rang again, and Bilbo got up to let the Dwarves in. It continued this way until all the Dwarves were crammed inside Bilbo's dining room. Last of all, the wizard Gandalf ducked through the short doorway meant for Hobbits half his size.

All talking stopped as Gandalf sat down and began to speak. "I have gathered all of you here today on this fine afternoon to address an important issue that has come to my knowledge. As you may or may not know," Gandalf glanced at Bilbo, "Thorin thinks it is time for Durin's folk to resume living in the Lonely Mountain."

"The Lonely Mountain?" Bilbo inquired. Hobbits don't concern themselves with business outside the Shire, so Bilbo had never heard of the Lonely Mountain.

"Yes, Bilbo Baggins, the Lonely Mountain is where all these Dwarves have come from." From the look on Bilbo's face, it was clear that he wanted us to go back to our Lonely Mountain and leave him alone, but he didn't say anything. Gandalf explained how we had lost the Mountain, and that we were on our way to reclaim it from Smaug. Then, he spoke to Thorin, "When I met your father in Dol Guldur, he gave me these items. He asked me to give them to you when you were ready." Gandalf produced a scroll and a key from the folds of his cloak. I recognized the scroll to be the map that Thror and Thrain had drawn, but I had never seen the key. Gandalf handed them to Thorin.

"I recognize the map," Thorin said, "and am very glad to have it in my possession once more, but what is the key for?"

Gandalf leaned back in his chair and answered. "The key is for a secret door, somewhere on the Mountain, although I do not know where. The information perished with your father. The secret is contained somewhere in the map. I have looked for it, but I do not have the skill to find it. Perhaps it will become more clear as time passes."

The dining room was silent, until Bilbo spoke.

"Well, that's a very nice tale, perhaps good for a storybook. But I still don't understand why there are thirteen Dwarves and a wizard in my dining room, and with all due respect, ruining my afternoon plans. What does this have to do with me?"

Gandalf laughed. "Well Bilbo, I thought you would have guessed already. They need a burglar to help them with this mission. They will need someone who can slip in and out of places without being detected. You are the perfect person for the job.

"Me?!" Bilbo said after he recovered from Gandalf's words. "Why on earth would you choose me, out of all the other, better choices? Why choose a Hobbit in the first place? You know that we don't like adventures!"

"Because Hobbits are very light on their feet, and can pass undetected by many creatures. Also, Smaug knows the smell of Dwarf very well. But the scent of Hobbit is entirely new to him."

Bilbo turned pale. "So you're saying that you want me to travel halfway across Middle Earth, encountering who-knows-what, and in the end, I get to be eaten by a Dragon?" He laughed hysterically. "Why not yourself, Gandalf? You can use magic, and probably help Thorin a lot more than I can. Why choose me, when you know I don't like adventures?" Bilbo asked again.

"That's right," Gloin added. "I've heard Hobbits are only good for their tea and pipeweed. What business does he have out in the wilderness when he has never held a sword in his life?" Bilbo nodded enthusiastically, agreeing with Gloin. The other Dwarves began talking over each other loudly, some agreeing with Gloin, some with Gandalf.

Gandalf finally had enough, and stood up and spoke in a loud, angry voice, "Thorin has asked me to provide a fourteenth member of the company, and I have chosen Bilbo Baggins. If I say he is a burglar, than he is a burglar!" The wizard stared at everyone at the table, then said, "Bilbo, you have much more potential than anyone in this room knows. Including yourself." The wizard sat down.

The room was quiet. Thorin began to speak. "So, Bilbo. You have heard the offer. Will you help us?"

Everyone stared at Bilbo. The Hobbit seemed to shrink even smaller than he already was. "If it helps," put in Nori, "when we get our gold back, you can have one-fourteenth of the riches."

Bilbo sat in his chair, thinking it over. He finally rose and said, "What use is gold to me if I'm dead? I'm sorry, but I can't help you with this. Like Gloin said, what good are Hobbits except for their cooking?" He slowly walked out of the room.

Gandalf sighed. "Mr. Baggins is the key to your success, I'm sure of it. If he will not help you..." The old Wizard didn't finish his sentence. He just got up from his chair and walked away, leaving us to count the costs of whether the quest was worth it.

That is what I'm doing now, sitting at Bilbo's fireplace. Thinking. Pondering. Contemplating. Have we come so far for nothing? Have all the sacrifices we've made – losing two kings, living a life of travel – have they been a waste? If Bilbo would only help us, it would improve our spirits. If even the lowly Hobbits want something so badly that they are willing to die for it, then surely the mighty Dwarves could follow their example.

Maybe that's what Gandalf meant when he said that Bilbo was the key to our success – when we learn to be soft-spoken and respectful, only then can we truly be successful. Maybe there is still hope – maybe Bilbo will think better of his decision. But even if not, I have learned a lesson from this Hobbit. Even if we are in a high position in this world, we amount to nothing in the end unless we are humble.

~The End~