Thieves and Beggars Chapter One.

Author's note: This is my first hobbit fanfic, so i apologise in advance for any mistakes or mischaracterisations.

On the small island of the Shire, in a quiet port called Hobbiton, there lived Bilbo Baggins.  Hobbiton wasn’t like other nasty ports. It was quiet and calm. No ships other than those of merchants came by. All in all, its inhabitants disapproved of anything unexpected.
Bilbo Baggins was the town’s only cobbler. It was bizarre, as he disliked wearing any form of shoes. But Bag End had been his fathers business, and his father’s father’s before that.  And so it came to pass, that Bilbo Baggins was an absolutely ordinary fellow, to whom nothing extraordinary happened.
Every morning, Bilbo opened his workshop. Every day, he went around his peaceful existence of seven meals a day, and of comfort and of home. Bilbo liked his life, and never thought of changing it. After all, it was dangerous business, walking out your front door. You never knew what could happen to you.
On a crisp morning of July, the air wafted though his window misty and cool, relieving the little port of a recent heat-wave.  Bilbo sat there, overlooking the ocean, smoking his pipe, and relishing the calm of existence. A tall figure now stood in front of the little man, looking down on him.
“Good Morning.” Bilbo said kindly.
“What do you mean?” the figure said, “Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?”
“A-all of them at once, I guess.” Replied Bilbo.
“Bilbo Baggins, you have changed, and not for the better.”
“I’m sorry, have we met before?”
The figure removed the hat that had been casting a shadow over his face to reveal two striking blue eyes and a crooked nose –as if it had been broken. A face that was indeed familiar to the cobbler.
“Gandalf? You mean, the firework merchant?”
“I am rather disappointed that you only remember my fireworks, but I am pleased you recognize me.”
“What brings you here?” asked Bilbo.
“I am looking for someone to share on an adventure.” He replied with a mischievous smile.
“No adventures here, thanks. Look on the other side of the island. Then you might find somebody who is interested.”
“And what happened to the young boy who dreamed of pirates and overseas travel? What happened to the Bilbo I remember?”
“He grew up” Snapped Bilbo, getting up from his windowsill, frantically walking into his workshop and slamming the green door behind him.
That evening, Bilbo sat down to eat his supper, when a knock came on the door. He got up, muttering that if it was one of the Sackville-Baggins’ after yet another free repair after he’d closed shop, he would never fix their shoes again in his life. He opened the door to a surprise.
A man stood in the doorway. He had a shaved head, a beard and tattoos on his forearms. A menacing look covered his face.
“Is this where it happens?” he asked gruffly.
“W-where what happens?” Bilbo stuttered in confusion.
Who was this man and what was he doing here?
He seemed to take Bilbo’s question as an invitation to enter, barging through the door and ducking his head to avoid hitting the top of the frame.
“They told me, there would be food.”
“They?” Bilbo echoed, following the stranger in his own house.
“Aye. I assume I’m early then.”
“Excuse me, but who are you?”
The man ignored him, now digging into Bilbo’s dinner with ferocity unknown to the gentle cobbler.
“D’you happen to have more?”
Bilbo simply nodded and went towards the pantry to get more food. Halfway there, he was interrupted by another knock on the door. Sighing in frustration, he opened to reveal yet another stranger. This one had stark white hair and a magnificently forked beard.
“Good Evening.” He said good naturedly.
“G-good evening indeed.”  Bilbo didn’t have time to attempt to shut the door, the man simply walked into the house.
“Is that you, Balin?”
“Dwalin” said the newest arrival, patting the other on the back.  “My brother, I haven’t seen you in quite a while.”
“No-one informed me that you would be here. I was not expecting visitors, especially strangers. I’m afraid you will have to leave. I’m sorry.” Bilbo stammered
Balin smiled “Apology accepted.”
The two simply carried on talking when a third knock came from the door.
Please not more strangers , Bilbo pleaded, as he went for the entrance of his home.