At first, all that the suspicious hobbit saw that morning was an old man with a staff. He had a tall pointed blue hat, a long grey cloak, a silver scarf over which his long white beard hung down below his waist, and immense black boots. Bilbo didn't recognize him, but he very clearly was no hobbit, and therefore no business of his, Bilbo firmly decided, chewing away on his pipe with such determination he didn't even realize it wasn't lit.
However, the old man clearly didn't agree with Bilbo's logic, slowing to a halt in front of his wooden gate as he leaned on his staff. For a long moment, hobbit and wizard remained quiet, as said wizard kept staring towards the quiet Bilbo and said hobbit kept staring towards his woolly toes (neatly brushed, of course). Finally though, Tookish stubbornness gave way for Baggins upbringing and despite himself, Bilbo looked up at the expectant visitor.
"Good Morning!" he called out, nervously chewing away on his pipe as the old man gained a disturbingly familiar mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he looked at Bilbo from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat.
"What do you mean?" he said, "Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or, perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning, or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"
"Oh… oh no, not another one." Bilbo said in abject horror as his unlit pipe fell from his slack lips.
The answer took the aged man aback somewhat as he raised a bushy brow in question.
"You didn't fall out of a strange door, did you?" Bilbo asked somewhat desperately, the visitor's eyes now widening fully in surprise.
"Well… I certainly wasn't expecting that. Why do you ask?"
"Seems like there's been a habit of strange people falling out of strange doors these days. Falling into people's gardens no less!" Bilbo said in a huff, shooting a suspicious look towards his innocently blooming tulips.
"Well yes, I suppose if one were to fall out of a strange door, they would be strange to begin with." The man said with a twinkle in his eyes as he studied the young Hobbit, who stammered in response.
It didn't pass Bilbo's notice however, that the old man's keen eyes slid past the fumbling hobbit as he took in his smial with a critical gaze, clearly looking for something. Between his strangeness, and the strangeness of Bilbo's unexpected new housemate, Bilbo had a pretty good idea what (or rather, whom) the old man was looking for as he felt a sudden surge of protectiveness towards Ben.
It was probably for the best if the two didn't interact too much. Not at all even, preferably. Not just for Ben's sake, but also for Bilbo's. He didn't think his poor heart could take it if two wizards shared a roof, much less if it was his roof being shared!
"In answer to your question, no, no I did not." The aged man continued with a wry smile, tapping his large boots with the tail end of his staff. "I came here on these. From quite far away, I might add." He said in a suggestive tone, but Bilbo wasn't having any of it.
"Well, then it's probably for the best you be on your way once more. Clearly, your journey is very long, and undoubtedly you have places to be and things to stir up, and I don't want to keep you from all your… strangeness. Quite pressing business, I'm sure, so, again, good morning and -" Bilbo said, retrieving his pipe as he swiftly tried to escape into his home.
"Indeed! The journey was long, and remains yet longer still. Some rest would do me good, I think. Surely, there is nothing strange to a proper hobbit inviting a weary traveller for some tea and cake? Why it would be truly strange to turn away such a personage, a well-known friend even, from the hospitality of their home!" the aged man called out, halting Bilbo in his tracks.
"Damn our reputation. And our good manners." The hobbit whispered under his breath, before looking back suspiciously at his visitor.
"A well-known friend? Why, I don't recall meeting you before, which I think I would if I had." He said to the clear disappointment of the old man, whose shoulders seemed to sag under a great weight.
"Ah… I had forgotten it's been that long… call me an old friend then! I visited these parts, and befriended its people, when even your elders were but small hobbit-boys and hobbit-girls." The man continued, the smile on his wrinkled face genuine, but marred by an unknowable melancholy.
The weight of many ages. The heaviness of actions taken and withheld. The burden of immense age and duty.
"Long journey, you say?" Bilbo eventually spoke up after a heavy sigh, the aged man's face lighting up.
"Indeed. You see, I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and sadly it's proven very difficult to find anyone."
"I should think so - in these parts! We are plain, quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can't think what anybody sees in them." Bilbo brusquely said, feeling only slightly hypocritical, given how he had sat enthralled by every scene of the wondrous, fantastical tales Ben had shown him this past week.
But that was all well and proper, wasn't it, Bilbo decided. After all, watching a story about an adventure is still only the same as listening, as you do to any story or song, and that was a proper and popular pastime for hobbits indeed. It was a far cry from actually going on an adventure and being forced to slog through murk and mud, beset with danger at all times and often going without bed or second breakfast!
"We don't want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water. Good Morning to you!" Bilbo continued, strengthened in his resolve now, and clearly indicating that the conversation was at an end.
"What an interesting use of Good Morning you have!" said his new visitor. "Now you mean that you want to get rid of me, and that it won't be good till I move off."
"Not at all, not at all, my dear sir! Let me see, I don't think I know your name?"
"Yes, yes, my dear sir. And you do know my name, though you don't seem to remember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me! To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!"
"Gandalf, Gandalf! Good gracious me! Not the wandering wizard that gave Old Took a pair of magic diamond studs that fastened themselves and never came undone till ordered? Not the fellow who used to tell such wonderful tales at parties, about dragons and goblins and giants and the rescue of princesses and the unexpected luck of widows' sons? Not the man that used to make such particularly excellent fireworks! I remember those! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve. Splendid! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!"
The more he spoke, the more he recalled of his younger days, when his mother Belladonna had still been alive, and the sense of adventure that he held back then and which had only been recently awakened by the odd traveller from impossibly far away.
"Dear me!" he went on. "Not the Gandalf who was responsible for so many quiet lads and lasses going off into the Blue for mad adventures? Anything from climbing trees to visiting elves or sailing in ships, sailing to other shores! Bless me, life used to be quite inter- I mean, you used to upset things badly in these parts once upon a time. I beg your pardon, but I had no idea you were still in business."
"Where else should I be?" said the wizard. "All the same I am pleased to find you remember something about me. You seem to remember my fireworks kindly, at any rate, and that is not without hope. Indeed, for your old grandfather Took's sake, and for the sake of poor Belladonna, I will give you what you asked for."
"I beg your pardon, I haven't asked for anything!"
"Yes, you have! Twice now. My pardon. I give it you. In fact I will go so far as to send you on this adventure. Very amusing for me, very good for you - and profitable too, very likely, if you ever get over it."
"Sorry! I don't want any adventures, thank you. Not today. Good morning! But please come to tea - any time you like! Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow! Good bye!" With that the hobbit turned and scuttled inside his round green door, and shut it as quickly as he dared, not to seem rude.
Wizards after all, were wizards, and Ben had told him (in quite enthusiastic and somewhat gruesome detail) just how inventive they could be when crossed. And Bilbo had just closed his door in one's face.
"What on earth did I ask him to tea for!" he said to himself, taking only a small comfort from the idea that Ben would protect him from the aged wizard's wrath.
Said comfort died an immediate and ignoble death when he realized that Ben was (once again) not actually here in Bag End to protect poor Bilbo, out on an adventure in the easternmost tip of Southfarthing. Still, when Bilbo's door didn't fly through his house or his chandeliers came alive with a will of their own, the young hobbit let out a sigh as he relaxed, steadily moving towards his ever-stocked pantry.
An adventure? Him, go on an adventure? Goodness gracious, he had all the adventure he hadn't bargained for already living underneath his roof, thank you very much! No, no best to keep a steadfast (and relaxed) watch on his homestead as he made sure his unexpected housemate didn't turn the place into a magical floating castle when his back was turned.
… although the view would be quite spectacular, he supposed.
No, no, best not to think about it. This place had been built by strong Took hands (and plenty of Baggins money) and in this place young Bilbo would happily remain in peace, quiet and a contentment derived from a full belly and a stuffed pipe.
Or was that the other way around?
Bah, no matter. Plenty of time to figure it out, Bilbo thought to himself as he clapped his hands together in anticipation of the many cakes and pies that Ben kept magicking onto his sagging shelves. He had just placed three of such lovely cupcakes (chocolate, vanilla and strawberry) on a plate when said wizard spoke up from behind the humming little hobbit.
"Who was that?"
Bilbo, of course, let out a shriek as he jumped a hobbit-foot in the air, the cakes leaping from his hands and splattering across his ceiling, to the great amusement of the young man behind him. Amusement turned into roaring laughter when Bilbo whirled around to chastise him, only for one of the cupcakes to let go of his now splattered ceiling and slam onto his head instead, dripping rivulets of strawberry goodness down his face.
"Why do I have the feeling you already know the answer to your own question?" Bilbo muttered as he began trying to clean up his hair and face from the sticky dessert remains with a grimace, before giving up entirely and sending the young wizard a pleading look.
Ben grinned at him before snapping his fingers. Immediately, the cake disappeared from Bilbo's face, hair and ceiling as if it had never existed in the first place.
"That's because I do."
"Then why ask?" Bilbo asked in a somewhat sour tone, though genuine curiosity bled through nonetheless as he placed a few more cupcakes onto a new plate (the shards of the former one having disappeared as well).
"If I wasn't allowed to talk about things I already knew, I would be forced to endure long bouts of silence, my friend." Ben boasted with a smug grin as he followed Bilbo to his kitchen table.
"You might want to try that. Who knows, perhaps you'll like it. It would do wonders for my peace of mind at least." Bilbo groused good-naturedly as he sat down and began digging in with gusto while Ben led out a loud laugh.
"I'm sorry, Bilbo. But I don't think you'll have much peace and quiet in your future."
"What are you talking about? I sent away the wizard, as you undoubtedly well know. Told him right and clear: no adventure for me, thank you!" Bilbo replied.
"Well, that's the thing about any good adventure. They're much like opportunities, or lucky coins, or I suppose, the IRS," Ben said airily.
Pulling Bilbo up from his seat, Ben led him out of the kitchen and past the hallway towards the front door.
"You do not seek them out," he continued, throwing open the round green door and pointing towards the lower left corner of the painted slab of wood.
Carved there was a strange symbol Bilbo had never seen before, but given the fact that it was glowing, there was no doubt in his mind regarding its origin.
"They have a habit of showing up at your doorstep." The young wizard said to a stunned Bilbo Baggins.
The hobbit thought that his new friend sounded far too cheerful and excited about that.