Chapter 8

It had been a busy morning at Bag End, in fact, whole days had been nothing but busy since the replies to the Party invitations started to pour in. Bilbo was flicking quickly through the envelopes when something different caught his eye.

Gandalf the Wizard

Guest of Mr. Bilbo Baggins

Bag End, The Hill

Hobbiton, West Farthing

He recognized Paladin Took's handwriting and curiosity immediately began to nibble at his thoughts.

"What in all The Shire would Paladin Took be wanting with Gandalf, I wonder?" the old hobbit said aloud to himself.

"Paladin wants Gandalf for something?" Frodo asked as he carried a tray of meats, cheeses and bread into the dining room from the kitchen.

"I assume so as he's written to him."

"How odd!" Frodo peered over his uncle's shoulder.

"Yes, well, we'll just set it at Gandalf's place at the table and he will get it when he comes in for luncheon." Bilbo set the envelope in front of the oversized chair at the guest's end of the table.

"If he comes in for lunch." Frodo noted.

"Hmm. Good point, m'lad. Good point." Bilbo ran a finger over the lettering. Oh, the temptation he felt to steam it open! "Ahem!" he cleared his throat and took his finger off the paper. "Yes. Well, he'll get it at supper then, if not sooner. He doesn't miss supper."

The Wizard rarely spent all day at Bag End, though where he wandered neither of his hosts knew. But he always said there was nothing to be compared to a Hobbit supper and could be relied upon to show up just as the last loaded serving dish was coming out of the kitchen. Soon, Bilbo and Frodo were busy opening the party replies, ticking off names on their list and had quite forgot about Gandalf's letter.

Gandalf came back between afternoon tea and dinner.

"There's a letter for you on the dining table," Frodo informed him after the wizard stuck his head into the study to say hello.

"A letter for me here?" the old man huffed. "How strange."

"Yes, 'tis strange. It is from my cousin, Paladin Took. You've met him once or twice I think." Bilbo looked up from the guest lists.

"I have indeed." Gandalf nodded. "He's the one most likely to end up being Took and Thain, if I'm not mistaken."

Bilbo chuckled. "However do you remember such minutia, my dear Gandalf? That is indeed the case although I know Lalia is still hoping Ferumbras will wed and produce an heir of his own."

"Hmph," Gandalf huffed in reply, "I'll go have a look at my letter."

"You'll let us know what is happening with my cousin, won't you?" Hope of finding out what was in the letter came through in Bilbo's tone.

"Hmm," was all the answer the master of Bag End received.

Gandalf took the letter to the privacy of his bedroom, it being most comfortably outfitted for the perusal of such a curious piece of mail. For, indeed, most Hobbits, other than those in Hobbiton, didn't even know he was there. Not that rumors hadn't spread like wild fire, but such rumors of important visitors always accompanied any large, festive, event and most Hobbits put little store in them. They were more interested in whether or not Lalia Took or Otho and Lobelia Sackville-Baggins would be at the Party. It was always good to know who one needed to avoid.

Gandalf puffed his pipe as he began to read. Soon his mouth went slack and he nearly set fire to his robes as the pipe fell from his lips.

"A dragon!" he gasped in wonder. "Those Tooks do have a knack of getting into interesting situations."

The next morning, right after first breakfast, the wizard mounted his horse and headed off toward the Dwarf encampment tucked away in the Bindbale Wood. A good number of Dwarves had gradually come into The Shire over the last month, bringing some supplies for Bilbo's Party, but mostly they brought the various items he had ordered made as gifts for all of his guests. Although Hobbits were accustomed to Dwarves travelling through their lands, they would not have liked the idea of nearly twenty of them settling in for several weeks; so they were keeping out of sight in the woods. Every couple of days a wagon would set off for Hobbiton bearing the items Bilbo had ordered. It would unload and appear to make its way east on the Great East Road as if heading back to the Lonely Mountain. Once clear of Hobbiton and the farms that surrounded it, they would cut north and go back to the woods.

By mid-day Gandalf's horse trotted into the clearing. He handed the reins to a hostler and proceeded to the tent where the contingent's leader was housed.

"Gandalf! Friend! This is a surprise. You weren't supposed to be returning to our camp. The Party is in just a few days." A large, well dressed, Dwarf addressed him.

"Dori, we, or shall I say you, have a problem," the wizard replied. "We need to speak in private."

Dori's eyebrows shot up. He motioned for his kinsmen to leave then addressed his guest.

"There. Privacy. Now, what is of such urgent need that you changed your plans?"

Gandalf sighed. "Did some of your parties travel up the North Road to enter The Shire?"

"Yes. I thought it best if we did not all come parading up the Great East Road as though we were invading. Hobbits, dear as they are, are a touchy lot. We hold Bilbo in high esteem, as you well know, so we did not wish to cause any troubles to befall him because of our numbers."

"Yes. Yes. A good decision, Dori. I'm needing to know about the cargo of that wagon."

"There were two that came that route, Gandalf. One driven by Frόr and Narvi, the other by Ibun and Lόni."

Gandalf held Dori's eyes with his. "I need to know about the one that carried a dragon's egg."