The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

My dear Frodo:

You asked me once...

...if I had told you everything

there was to know about my adventures.

And while I can honestly say

I have told you the truth...

...I may not have told you all of it.

I am old now, Frodo.

I'm not the same Hobbit I once was.

I think it is time for you to know...

...what really happened.

It began long ago...

...in a land far away to the east...

...the like of which you will not find

in the world today.

There was the city of Dale.

Its markets known far and wide.

Full of the bounties of vine and vale.

Peaceful and prosperous.

For this city lay before the doors

of the greatest kingdom in Middle-earth:

Erebor.

Stronghold of Thror,

King Under the Mountain.

Mightiest of the Dwarf Lords.

Thror ruled with utter surety...

...never doubting his house would endure...

...for his line lay secure

in the lives of his son...

...and grandson.

Ah, Frodo. Erebor.

Built deep within the mountain itself...

...the beauty of this

fortress city was legend.

Its wealth lay in the earth...

...in precious gems hewn from rock...

...and in great seams of gold...

...running like rivers through stone.

The skill of the Dwarves was unequaled...

...fashioning objects of great beauty...

...out of diamond, emerald,

ruby and sapphire.

Ever they delved deeper,

down into the dark.

And that is where they found it.

The Heart of the Mountain.

The Arkenstone.

Thror named it "The King's Jewel."

He took it as a sign,

a sign that his right to rule was divine.

All would pay homage to him.

Even the great Elven King, Thranduil.

But the years of peace and plenty

were not to last.

Slowly the days turned sour...

...and the watchful nights closed in.

Thror's love of gold had grown too fierce.

A sickness had begun to grow within him.

It was a sickness of the mind.

And where sickness thrives...

...bad things will follow.

The first they heard

was a noise like a hurricane...

...coming down from the North.

The pines on the mountain

creaked and cracked in the hot, dry wind.

Balin, sound the alarm.

Call out the guard. Do it now!

What is it?

Dragon.

Dragon!

He was a firedrake from the North.

Smaug had come.

Such wanton death was dealt that day.

For this city of Men was nothing to Smaug.

His eye was set on another prize.

For dragons covet gold

with a dark and fierce desire.

Aah!

No!

Come on.

Erebor was lost.

For a dragon will guard his plunder...

...as long as he lives.

Run for your lives!

Ah! Help us!

Thranduil would not risk the lives of his

kin against the wrath of the dragon.

No help came from the Elves that day...

...nor any day since.

Robbed of their homeland...

- -the Dwarves of Erebor

wandered the wilderness...

...a once mighty people brought low.

The young Dwarf prince took work

where he could find it...

...laboring in the villages of Men.

But always he remembered...

...the mountain smoke beneath the moon...

...the trees like torches blazing bright.

For he had seen dragon fire in the sky...

...and a city turned to ash.

And he never forgave...

...and he never forgot.

That, my dear Frodo, is where I come in.

For, quite by chance,

and the will of a Wizard...

...fate decided I would become

part of this tale.

It began...

Well, it began as you might expect.

In a hole in the ground...

...there lived a Hobbit.

Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole

full of worms and oozy smells.

This was a Hobbit hole.

And that means good food, a warm hearth...

...and all the comforts of home.

Thank you.

What's this?

That is private. Keep your sticky paws off.

It's not ready yet.

Not ready for what?

Reading.

What on earth are these?

Replies to the party invitations.

Ah. Good gracious. Is it today?

They all say they're coming.

Except for the Sackville-Bagginses,

who are demanding you ask them in person.

Are they, indeed? Over my dead body.

They'd probably find that quite agreeable.

They seem to think you have tunnels...

- ...overflowing with gold.

- It was one small chest, hardly overflowing.

And it still smells of Troll.

What on earth are you doing?

Taking precautions.

You know, I caught her making off

with the silverware once.

- Who?

- Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.

She had all my spoons

stuffed in her pocket. Ha!

Dreadful woman.

Make sure you keep an eye on her

after I'm...

When I'm... When I'm...

When you're what?

It's nothing. Nothing.

You know, some people are beginning

to wonder about you, Uncle.

- Huh?

- They think you're becoming odd.

Odd? Oh. Hm.

Unsociable.

Unsociable, me? Nonsense.

Be a good lad and put that on the gate.

- Do you think he'll come?

- Who?

Gandalf.

Oh-ho. He wouldn't miss a chance

to let off his Whizpoppers.

He'll give us quite a show, you'll see.

- Right, then. I'm off.

- Off to where?

East-farthing Woods.

I'm going to surprise him.

Well, go on, then.

You don't want to be late.

He doesn't approve of being late. Oh, no.

Not that I ever was.

In those days, I was always on time.

I was entirely respectable.

And nothing unexpected...

...ever happened.

- Good morning.

- What do you mean?

Do you 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? Hm?

All of them at once, I suppose.

Hmm.

Can I help you?

That remains to be seen.

I'm looking for someone

to share in an adventure.

An adventure?

No, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree

would have much interest in adventures.

Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things.

Make you late for dinner. Heh, heh.

Mm. Huh.

Hmm.

Oh. Ah.

Good morning.

To think that I should have lived

to be "good morninged"...

...by Belladonna Took's son

as if I were selling buttons at the door.

Beg Your pardon?

You've changed, and not entirely

for the better, Bilbo Baggins.

I'm sorry, do I know you?

Well, you know my name,

although you don't remember I belong to it.

I'm Gandalf.

And Gandalf means...

...me.

Gandalf?

Not Gandalf the wandering Wizard...

...who made such excellent fireworks?

Old Took used to have them on

Midsummer's Eve. Heh, heh. Ahem.

No idea you were still in business.

And where else should I be?

Where else...? Ahem.

Well, I'm pleased to find you remember

something about me...

...even if it's only my fireworks.

Yes. Well, that's decided.

It'll be very good for you...

...and most amusing for me.

I shall inform the others.

Inform the who? What?

No. No. No... Wait.

We do not want any adventures here,

thank you. Not today. Not...

I suggest you try Over the Hill

or Across the Water.

Good morning.

Dwalin, at your service.

Hm. Uh...

Bilbo Baggins, at yours.

Do we know each other?

No.

Which way, laddie?

Is it down here?

Is what down where?

Supper.

He said there'd be food and lots of it.

He... He said? Who said?

Mmm.

Mmm.

Very good, this. Any more?

What? Oh, yes, yes. Ah.

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