The further adventures of Bilbo the Hobbit. (with my deepest apologies to JRR Tolkien)

It was a deep and dark winter night and the fog curled its long fingers outside the burrow and sought to enter through the cracks and crannies in the round windows and doors of the Hobbit dwelling. Bilbo huddled deeper into his blankets and the little house settled down for the night and slumbered under the hill, when suddenly a deep boom boom echoed on the front door. Botheration thought Bilbo. Just when I was getting all cozy someone wakes me all of a heap. Who can it be at this time of night. Stumbling on trailing blankets he put on his slippers and peeped through the window. The night was inky black with a few stars twinkled far off, a fitful moonbeam struck his garden and a tall shadowy figure could be seen loitering by the gate. Bilbo was loth to open the door, he was not afraid of the tall shadow but he did not welcome cold gusts of night into his nice warm hallway. He knew who was waiting and he knew he could not pretend to be asleep, the lamps and smoking chimney meant it was quite clear he was at home.
Bilbo opened the door and the tall figure stooped down and doffed its hat. ''Bilbo my dear fellow, don't keep an old man waiting in this chilly night, let me in, I can see by your face you do have troubles, but never fear I am here now although you have led me on a merry dance these last few weeks''
''Gandalf! how lovely to see you'' Bilbo smiled and huffed and puffed as he set the things ready for tea, his mind was in a whirl, couldn't think straight, ah yes there was the second best seedcake, now where are my manners, what does the old fellow mean ''troubles'' really its all too much at this time of night respectable folks should tucked up tight in bed. and then he laughed softly to himself as he realized he was no longer a respectable fellow.

How the blithering HELL is anyone supposed to get any work done around this damn place with people blathering stories right and left?   Every time I step in for a little break I find yet ANOTHER story has blasted off.  Bloody 'ell.

It's a madhouse!  

Of creativity. 

Might I ask what Gandalf was doing outside of Bilbo's house at all? And where is he coming from on this "merry chase", and where he is going? 
In fact I should like to know all about what these two are up to. Not that it will do them much good! I know far too much about their kind already; but let's have more of the story Figgs (and quickly!), or I'll have to send for Christmas a bustle that is particularly UNCOMFORTABLE for you!! 

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Bilbo trotted around Gandalf doing his best to make the old wizard comfortable. Did he want a cushion for his back? Would he like to sit nearer the fire? all the time Bilbo was busily wondering how he could avoid the All Important Questions he was sure to be asked. It was most vexing to find that Gandalf seemed in no particular hurry to ask the All Important Questions and was content to eat the poor Hobbit out of house and home. After they had both finished off cakes and tea and they had smoked two pipes each Gandalf seemed to bestir himself from a brown study he had sunk into. ''Bilbo my dear Hobbit, I have received news from a friend of mine that you have been seen wandering into the Old Forest and not wandering out of it again for many days and nights. What have you to say about that?'' Bilbo became flustered ''well what of it? cant a fellow walk about the Shire without having nosey parkers wagging their fingers..and casting nasturnums'' he said most put out. ''well of course not'' said Gandalf, ''But you seem to have something more than walking on your mind, after all I have known you for a very long time and I think something is troubling you, and you may feel better if you share it with an old friend.''
Bilbo sighed he might have known he could never have kept things secret from Gandalf. The truth was that he longed to be on his adventures once again, even though at the time they were uncomfortable and sometimes alarming, he missed the company of the Dwarves and Elves and every morning when he stepped out into the garden to do a bit of digging or weeding the Road called him and instead of working he stood leaning on his spade, musing about dragons and starlight until lunchtime.
''oh Gandalf, sometimes I think my adventuring days are over and it does so make me chafe and worry that I will never see Rivendell again...and it was so splendid'' he tailed off in a sad little voice.
''Good heavens is that all it is you are worrying your woolly head over, never fear, I think perhaps I may help you in that department, but let us not be hasty'' laughed Gandalf as Bilbo bounced out of his chair.

I was just beginning to develop a full head of steam, concentration was building up...and KABLOOIE! All gone. I'll have to start over and then another installment will come along and knock me sideways.

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I only hope this doesn't end up committing some sort of utter outrage on the memory of Tolkien's great works, Mrs Figg. After all, outrageous stuff as we all very well know has no place in Forumshire! Mind you, it will even be more outrageous if you start a captivating tale again but not finish it, this being, I believe, your wont of late....  

They sat there in the flickering firelight each in their private world, Bilbo's thoughts were written on his face as he was a simple soul and deception had never until now darkened his heart. But Gandalf was another matter, like a lake on a Summers day was he, the surface shined bright in welcome but woe betide anyone foolish enough to swim out into those perilous deeps without a stout heart of adamant. As he sat there puffing slowly on his pipe his eyebrows bristled and his eyes shone in the gloom. Bilbo shivered, he knew there was a lot more to the wizard than most people in the Shire gave him credit for. At last he stirred, ''well Bilbo, tell me about this young nephew of yours, how is he shaping up as your heir?''
''He is turning out to be as disreputable as his uncle'' laughed Bilbo. ''only the other day I had words with old farmer Maggot about his hair-brained high jinks with those young Tooks down Bywater way, stealing mushrooms they were, but he was half savaged by Maggot's dogs so I suppose he has learned his lesson'' Bilbo looked ruefully at Gandalf, unwilling to blame Frodo for his wild adventures. ''oh I am sure he will settle down someday, once he has sown his wild oats'' said Gandalf, ''Gaffer Gamgee has a high regard for Frodo and I am inclined to respect his word, he has a good head on his shoulders that one, and you could do much worse asking someone who appears a lot wiser than he''.
oh well yes, the Gaffer is full of Hobbit sense'' nodded Bilbo, but privately he thought the Gaffer knew more about growing prize turnips and daisies than the workings of tweenagers minds. Although he acknowledged that his Sam was a sensible a young Hobbit as you could find this side of Hobbiton.

Bilbo was reluctant to push Gandalf about the adventure, he knew how quick tempered he could be and didn't want to infuriate him with questions and botherings. ''After all, he hasn't failed me yet'' thought Bilbo happily.

The morning brought unwelcome surprises for Bilbo. The wizard had left without word or letter and the fog pressed heavy and icy cold against the windows, beads of ice sugared the drooping flowers in the garden. Bilbo's heart had sank to his feet so he decided to have two hearty breakfasts to steady his worry. ''where can Gandalf be, and why did he not leave me a note'' thought Bilbo angrily. ''its not very polite!''
Later in the afternoon a pale sun could be seen sailing over wreathed banks of mist, the sky above was a washed out Periwinkle blue. Bilbo felt cheered by the sunlight but his heart was troubled and he felt rather at a loss of what to do. He couldn't settle to do anything every moment he expected to see Gandalf walking up the path or Gandalf knocking on the door. but Gandalf did not come.

Intriguing Figg- one does wonder of post adventure Bilbo and why he never travelled again. He certainly didn't get the travel bug and itchy feet again until very late in life indeed and your tale does the raise the interesting question of why not?

He was known for visiting the elves, but I suppose that could have occurred in the shire.

I always took that to be in the Shire, probably the Woody End, which in Frodo's time was apparently known for elves sometimes stopping there- and elves passing through the Shire seems to have become a fairly commonish sight by the time Frodo leaves at any rate.

Also it cant be Rivendell, as we know he didn't go there before his birthday party, and I don;t think it can be the Grey Havens as I always got the impression until then he had never seen the Sea with his own eyes before. And I cant think of anywhere else in likely range where you might expect to find elves.

I have to think he would have gone to Bree at least once, though there's no support for that, except perhaps for hints of continuing contact with dwarves.

Dwarves he could easily met in the Shire, their route between Erebor and the Blue Mountains goes through the Shire, they are not an uncommon sight.
Plus I expect a few dwarves drop by Bag End- I mean what respectable dwarf from the Lonely Mountain wouldn't want to say they had met Bilbo Baggins (and we know Balin at least visited and when Bilbo leaves after his party he does so in the company of dwarves- presumably those are dwarves he knows already).
I get the impression Bilbo never left the Shire again between returning from the Quest and his party.

Pettytyrant101 wrote:
I get the impression Bilbo never left the Shire again between returning from the Quest and his party.

or did he?

That I eagerly await to find out Figg!

Many weeks had past since the visit from Gandalf, the weather remained cloudy and stone cold with no hint of Spring in the air. Bilbo had sunk into a grey gloom and felt very sorry for himself indeed. He spent his time sat by the fire pouring over maps and wondering if he would ever go wandering again. He got out his old travelled stained cloak and hood and just stood there silently lost in memories.
A tap tap tap shook him out of his waking dreams. He opened the door and there stood what Bilbo first thought looked very much like an Elven child. He was taller than Bilbo but not as tall as an adult Elf or man. Despite the chill weather he was dressed in a light blue tunic with a copper belt. Blue slippers were on his slender feet, but what was most extraordinary were the iridescent wings which hung from his shoulders almost to the ground, wings rather like a dragonfly long and iridescent but powerful they rustled with inner life as the creature moved.
''Good day to you'' stuttered Bilbo, ''do please come in and warm yourself by the fire'' and indeed the creature looked quite ill and staggered slightly on the step.
''My name is Merryon'' said the creature, ''We the Svaltalfar ask for help from the Baggins, I left my brethren in great speed for we are dying'' he said in a soft voice and sunk into a chair as if in a faint.
Bilbo was very flumoxed at such terrible news, he didn't know who the Svaltalfar were but his kindly heart always liked to do the best he could for those in a pinch. He looked closely at the Elf child and saw that this was no child but a fully grown adult, his skin was dead white and his hair was grey. Great suffering was etched on the features and wracking coughs shook him from time to time.

The Svaltalfar was very poorly for many days, Bilbo did the best he could under the circumstances and made many nourishing coney stews and tasty titbits for his guest. He was wise enough to ask the Gaffer what foods might be acceptable to an invalid and word must have reached some of the Hobbit matrons as a steady supply of the curious and the kindly arrived on Bilbo's doorstep to gawp and give advice in equal measure. The most useful of all was Rosie Cotton who bustled in rolled her sleeves up and set to dusting and fussing, cooking and chatting, and setting all to rights all of which made Bilbo very grateful as he had been afraid the creature might up and die at any moment and didn't like to be alone with the worry.
Nobody had ever heard mention of a Svaltalfar or what it ate, but gradually some colour came back to its cheeks and the horrible coughing ceased. Bilbo was very relieved. Merryon was very quiet and patient and seemed to gather strength day by day. He told Bilbo tales about his people, they lived at the edges forests where sunbeams strummed the branches like songs, Ithilien it was called. Bilbo thought it sounded like the most beautiful place he had ever heard of save Rivendell, a place where Spring never left, a place wild and full of bird song. Bilbo wanted more than anything to see it with his own eyes.

A DARK ELF?!?  

RUN BILBO!! RUN!!

"they lived at the edges forests where sunbeams strummed the branches like songs"

That's beautiful. He's not going all the way to Ithilien, is he?!

mebee

Wait, so is a Svaltalfar different from a Svartalfar?

mebee.