With a little help from not his friends, Bilbo fell onto the floor of his very own Hobbit hole. The possibility of a quest that ends with a dragon, a dragon he has to face himself, is more than he can take. The panic of the mere thought of being killed by a dragon leaves him short of breath and falling to the floor. Bofur in his infinite wisdom has opted to describe to him exactly what kind of death awaits him, without holding anything back. Oddly enough, no one suggested for Bofur to stop. They all probably wanted to see what kind of reaction this information would trigger in Bilbo.

Bilbo is to be a burglar in this company’s great venture. Not only he himself knows this not to be the right decision for him or the occupation, but the Dwarves see him as more of a liability than a strength. From what they witnessed while rummaging through his home, they could only deduce that he is more concerned about the state of his home and his possessions than the truth of the situation. Bilbo might probably agree with this assessment of theirs, as he is the proud owner of all his possessions and makes a point of telling others how old they are and who they belonged to. 

Would you brave the unknown to reclaim your homeland? Would you willingly enter a dragon’s den to rebuild a life that no longer exists? The Dwarves that inhabited Erebor, those who have survived the wrath of the dragon, are scattered over the seven kingdoms. They have built their lives away from their home, as best as they could. Another generation had been born in this new life that may never come to live in Erebor. Hindrances lie before them they don’t even know about, and when they reach their destination, a dragon will lie in wait. 

Again the doorbell rings. This was the Dwarf Gandalf was missing. This is the Dwarf that unites them all. Although he is expected to attend, the mere action of the doorbell ring tightens the loose atmosphere in Bilbo’s home. All the Dwarves were laughing and entertaining themselves as they tidied up the mess they had made. They came together as a unit, an organized band of Dwarves who not only provided themselves with the food they consumed but who also made a point of straightening up after themselves.

Loss of control over the goings on in one’s own house is a frustrating thing. This can occur when a relative visits, or any member of the extended family, who is not familiar with the house etiquette or has the appropriate manners and respect. This can be tolerated to a certain point, knowing that at some point they are going to leave. So, we make the most of the time spent together and look forward to the day that our homely kingdom will belong to us again. 

It was supposed to be a quiet night, Bilbo alone with his fish dinner enjoying his life the way he always has. The smile on his face tells us not only of his long habit of dining alone but also of his enjoyment of the activity. There is no family to annoy him, no children with whom he would share his meal, no Frodo yet either. And there he was, minding his own business, preparing to eat his own dinner in peace, when fate intervened.

Not much has changed in the habit of the Hobbit in the last 60 years. He still enjoys his pipe on the bench in his garden overlooking Hobbiton. Bilbo has known and nurtured lovingly the pleasure of home and the feeling of comfort. As a small child, Bilbo had no restraints in expressing his want of adventure. With a sword in his hand and a smile on his face, he was slaying dragons left and right. An adventurous spirit had been bestowed upon him.

There is always one corner of the world where the troubles of other people are not even heard of. A place where dragons’ mere existence is questioned. If they cannot see it, then it must not be true. The stories told of such creatures remain part of Wizard’s imagination, a story to tell the little ones. It was a place untouched by world wars and racial disagreements. There the people live in harmony, an almost symbiotic relationship with nature. There they prosper on their own, enjoying their own community and the simple way of life. That place is the Shire.

Every story that makes a part of our history does not stand alone, its consequences repercuss onto generations after us. Whatever one misunderstanding may have occurred in the past, will reflect in the future of not only a people but of the character of the individual. It imprints into the consciousness of generation upon generation until its potency fades to a point of no recognition. It becomes a truth that no one bothers to second-guess, for it is easier to accept what is given than to search for the truth for oneself. Such passed down beliefs spread like cancer, uniting a people in the same belief system.