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brigidBilbo Hamish Baggins limped to a seat outside the Prancing Pony and sat down. He rubbed his aching thigh and frowned. Life had taken a few unexpected turns since his return from that little spot of action with the dwarves, and he was lost in mulling it over. He didn't notice, at first, the person standing in front of him, someone vaguelly familiar. It was a human, male, in long pristine white robes and an elegant staff.
"I say, Bilbo Baggins, is that you?"
"I, er, Saruman the White?"
"Well, it HAS been a long time, hasn't it? I see you're back safely from your little adventure."
"Ugh, well, so to speak. I find the shire much smaller than I left it."
"Oh, of course, of course." Saruman stroked his long white beard knowingly.
"But your old home is as you left it?"
"For the most part, but I seem to have picked up an infestation of irritating relatives who want to deem me non compos mentis and claim my home and heirlooms for their own."
"Well, that's dashed unfortunate."
"So I'm thinking of moving out, right? Finding a nice roomy place to store my treasures and heirlooms, live a quiet life away from prying eyes, some place with a large dining room and spare bedrooms for entertaining... I've never broken ground on my own, though."
"Well, if you're interested, I know a bloke who's got a fine large place. I think he's looking for a room mate if you'd be open to that."
"a room mate? Well, I don't know. How large is it?"
"Well, it's a massive abandoned mine. He's a dragon, you see. A bit of an odd duck, as dragons are, but perhaps you'll hit it off."
"Well, I suppose I've nothing to lose."
"Let's be off to see him."
Bilbo agreed and stood, nursing the leg that Lobelia had stabbed with one of his own silver forks. That would be a while healing.
"I say, Bilbo Baggins, is that you?"
"I, er, Saruman the White?"
"Well, it HAS been a long time, hasn't it? I see you're back safely from your little adventure."
"Ugh, well, so to speak. I find the shire much smaller than I left it."
"Oh, of course, of course." Saruman stroked his long white beard knowingly.
"But your old home is as you left it?"
"For the most part, but I seem to have picked up an infestation of irritating relatives who want to deem me non compos mentis and claim my home and heirlooms for their own."
"Well, that's dashed unfortunate."
"So I'm thinking of moving out, right? Finding a nice roomy place to store my treasures and heirlooms, live a quiet life away from prying eyes, some place with a large dining room and spare bedrooms for entertaining... I've never broken ground on my own, though."
"Well, if you're interested, I know a bloke who's got a fine large place. I think he's looking for a room mate if you'd be open to that."
"a room mate? Well, I don't know. How large is it?"
"Well, it's a massive abandoned mine. He's a dragon, you see. A bit of an odd duck, as dragons are, but perhaps you'll hit it off."
"Well, I suppose I've nothing to lose."
"Let's be off to see him."
Bilbo agreed and stood, nursing the leg that Lobelia had stabbed with one of his own silver forks. That would be a while healing.
