NOTE TO READERS! This chapter will look very familiar because it is the original first chapter. I added in a prologue. So what used to be chapter 1 still is, it’s just that now it’s the second listed chapter. The real “update” is in the next chapter. But please go back and read the prologue first! I really like it!

"Mr. Bilbo has learned Sam his letters - meaning no harm, mark you, and I hope no harm will come of it."

Hamfast Gamgee, The Fellowship of the Ring, A Long Expected Party

Chapter One: an An Unexpected Visitor

Setting: Hobbiton, Number Three Bagshot Row; September 29, 1418

It was a bleak night, and no mistake, the clouds had descended upon Hobbiton and had thus proceeded to dump their wet cargo all over the surrounding flora, flooding the flower beds which Hamfast Gamgee had toiled over for many a long day. Which This was why the most respected gardener in the West Farthing was sitting in his chair with his back to the window, savoring a tater and mushroom stew, for he knew that it would likely be the last until the new year. Unless he could work a miracle on the stubborn soil of Bagshot Row. That though, was not the only reason why he refused to look outside. For if he did, he would be forced to face his new neighbors: the Sackville-Bagginses. That would have to be done eventually, there was nothing else for it, but in this case it was best done later rather than sooner, or so he liked to think. The very thought of it put a sour taste in his mouth and, for a moment, he wondered if he had put too much parsley in his stew. It had been bad enough having to look at them when they came to the door demanding the key that Mr. Frodo had entrusted to his care. The thought of the inevitability of having to face them on a day-to-day basis was unbearable.

The Gaffer, illiterate though he was, was no simpleton. He understood rightly enough that Mr. Frodo would want to return to the village of his upbringing, namely Crickhollow, away there in Buckland. He had been somewhat surprised when his youngest son had been so eager to follow his master off to the other end of The Shire. Sure Samwise had always professed to wanting an adventure to see Elves, but this was going off to Buckland, a part of The Shire which was reputedly very dangerous, being on the edge of the Old Forest and all. Anyone who knew Sam knew that he had dreamed of adventures (with or without Elves) for so many years and such a proposition of moving to Buckland would not have amazed them. But Hamfast, being the practical, literally down to Middle earth, Hobbit that he was, had never taken his son's dreams of far-off adventures seriously by any stretch of the imagination. After all, that's that was just what it was – "wishful" thinking. But being that Sam was Mr. Frodo's servant; the Gaffer couldn't find it within himself to call his son a ninnyhammer on this occasion. So Mr. Frodo and Sam had moved to Buckland.

Well that was all fine and dandy, as the saying goes, but of all the ridiculous things to do, why did Mr. Frodo have to sell his beautiful home to them?! Everyone knew that Lobelia and Lotho had too much ego for their own good. That had been true for at least the past 30 years, and it had continued to snowball out of proportion ever since Frodo and Lobelia had signed the sale of Bag End a few months prior. It would no doubt continue to grow from here on out, and it was this fact that made him want to postpone leaving his smial in the morning for as long as possible, which just wasn't natural for a Hobbit who not-too-long ago had greeted the sun every morning with unrivaled enthusiasm for the new beginning that she brought with her from all over those foreign lands that his son was so naively enthusiastic for.

Hamfast sat there, staring at his stew and picking at the mushrooms with a sudden melancholy. He had never really liked Elves because they had seemed to drag his son away from both him and the work that needed to be done. But now he really didn't like them. After all, it was they (or rather the thought of them) who had taken his son away from him. Not just any son, his youngest son and the one it had seemed would care for him in his old age, the other two had left: Hamson to the North Farthing and Halfred to Tighfield. But not anymore - unless of course Sam got it through his thick head to summon an eagle and fly to Bagshot Row every week. Not much chance of that. Though he supposed he couldn'tcould not entirely blame the Elves, as none of them had been in The Shire (well at least none that Sam had seen. Though everyone knew that the cracking Frodo Baggins had gone off in search of Elves in The Shire on numerous occasions with reported as success, though none others had been there to vouch for his honesty). No the real culprits behind Sam's wanderlust were Old Mr. Bilbo and the conjuring "wizard" Gandalf.

Hamfast had never truly minded Old Bilbo teaching his son to read and write, that had actually proven to be a valuable commodity, but this adventuring to see fabled Elves was another matter entirely. No, Hamfast decided muttering under his breath, the wizard was the one who was really to blame and he found that he was very grateful that the meddlesome Disturber of the Peace was no where to be found, for he realized that his attitude might be enough to get himself transformed into a toad if the old man really could accomplish such a feat, which he doubted.

As he was sitting there, brooding over his recent misfortunes, he heard a rather hard knock on his front door. Wondering who would possibly be out and about in this weather, the Gaffer's sense of duty and curiosity propelled him to open the door. For a full minute, the Gaffer stood dumfounded, his eyes bulging from their sockets and his jaw hanging down a few large centimeters. There stood the subject of his grievances, one of the few that he knew of who was required to stoop down to be look at his would-be host in the eye. Once again, Gandalf the Grey had arrived when least expected.