{8 - Disagreement}

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When I came to, I was sitting on granny's old armchair. I groan as I sit up, rubbing the back of my head.

"How are you, Bilbo?" Gandalf stood, leaning on the lit fireplace, smoking through his pipe.

"Fine, thank you." I nod at him and take a deep breath, wincing at the pain in my head. Gandalf moves to sit in the armchair in front of me.

"I would like for you to explain something to me," he finally speaks after staring at me for quite a while. I nod for him to continue, "Tell me, Bilbo," he begins in a voice I immediately dislike, "when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you?" He stares intensely at me but before I answer, he continues, "I remember a young hobbit who was always running off in search of Elves, in the woods. He'd stay out late, come home, after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young hobbit who would've liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire." He waved his hands around, indicating the different parts of the Shire, "What happened to you, Bilbo? Because I will tell you, the world is not in your books and maps. It's out there." He makes a wide swoop with his arm, pointing towards the door. I look at it sadly.

"I can't just go!" I exclaim, "I'm a Baggins! From Bag Ends!"

Gandalf glares at me "You are also a Took! Did you know that your great, great, great, great uncle Bullroarer Took, was so large he could ride a real horse?" I nod. "Well, then you should know that in the battle of Greenfields, he charged the goblin ranks he swung his club so hard, it knocked the goblin king's head clean off, and it sailed a hundred yards through the air, and went down a rabbit hole. And thus the battle was won, and the game of golf was invented at the same time!" I blinked at him.

"I do believe you made that up," is my response.

"Well, all good stories deserve embellishment. You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back." He nods at me, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

"But can you promise that I will come back?" I question him. He looks at me sadly.

"I can not," Gandalf sighs "but if you do, you will not be the same as when you left. And even though that might happen, you would still live, to tell the tale." I stand up and walk over to Gandalf.

"I'm sorry Gandalf, but I can't sign this" I feel bad for declining, "You've pushed me quite a lot on inviting dwarves into a house that isn't yours. Thank you, but you've got the wrong hobbit" I try to hand the contract back to him but he places his hand over mine.

"Keep it, in case you change your mind, you have until dawn" He stands up. "Thank you for the food and your hospitality, but I must be off." And with that Gandalf leaves.

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