Hobbit!lock

"The trip to middle earth."

Sherlock was lying on his couch, perfectly comfortable, but bored. Very bored at that

"Bored." He stated dully.

"Well what do you want me to do about it?" John asked reading his paper

"Get me a case."

"You just solved one Sherlock."

"I want another."

John groaned at Sherlock's behavior. "Go entertain yourself!"

"Get me a case or its Cluedo."

"Get out of the house! Find something yourself!" John screamed in desperation.

Sherlock sighed, got up and dressed and stormed out of the flat. It was bad enough being bored without somebody shouting at you.

The cold London air bit at Sherlock, turning his cheeks and the tip of his nose red. Sherlock looked onto the bustling city life. How boring it must be, to simply go on with your life and the only excitement being a promotion or an engagement. Nothing entertaining.

Sherlock caught a cab to the nearest park and sat himself down on a bench. People walked around, some on phones, some alone, joggers, teenagers, parents, elderly, Sherlock could name everything about them.

He almost didn't notice a man draped in a grey cloak and a, although Sherlock hated to admit since it was foolish, a wizard hat and staff.

"Good day." The old man said, his grey beard reached down to his belt.

Sherlock smiled curtly and nodded.

"Would you like to come on an adventure?"

Sherlock was caught off guard by this ridiculous question. "I beg your pardon?"

"An adventure Mr. Holmes, something I'm guessing you're quite partial to."

Sherlock's jaw dropped slightly. "You know me?"

"Oh yes. And I am asking you once more. Would you like to come on an adventure? I promise it's something you haven't seen before."

"That's what they all say."

"Do I look like most people you encounter? Deduct something about me."

Sherlock stared at the man for a moment. A look of pure confusion crossed his face.

"You can't." The old man smiled.

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked coldly.

"I am someone who wants to take you on an adventure, whether you agree or decline is up to you."

"Where are we going?" Sherlock asked.

"Middle earth."

Sherlock furrowed his brow. His mind whizzed, middle earth?

The park around him began to fade, and was replaced by a forest. Sherlock whipped his head around, the forest that replaced the park was most likely early autumn, most of the trees leaves fading to red and yellow, but the majority of the trees were a lush green.

Sherlock jumped out of his seat. "What in the name of god is this?!"

"Middle earth my friend, and I have some company to show you."

The old man started to walk off into the forest, this gave Sherlock no other choice but to follow.

The old man led him to a small campsite just outside of the forest, where miraculously small men sat and discussed something. Sherlock picked a face from the crowd immediately.

"John!" He cried. He ran to John, but there was something different, his hair was longer and he was much shorter, about the size of a child. He wore a waistcoat, had pointy ears and his feet were double the size and… Hairy! "John if this is some joke to get me out of the house, congratulations, you win, now let's head home."

John looked at him puzzled and slightly scared. "I-I am not John."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, my name is Mr. Bilbo Baggins."

"Well Mr. Baggins, can you tell me why you share striking similarities with my friend?"

"We could ask the same thing about your voice sir." Replied a small man.

"What do you mean? What are all of you meant to be?"

The men looked at Sherlock indignantly. "We are dwarves!" one growled who had long black hair and beard, come to think of it they all had beards.

"Are you a dwarf?" He asked Bilbo.

"No, I am a Hobbit."

"A Hob-what?!"

"A Hobbit. And why do you share a voice with Smaug?"

"What on earth is Smaug?"

"Smaug is the dragon at Mist Mountain."

"The dragon?!"

"Yes sir."

Sherlock let out a maniacal laugh. "My mistake. Of course there are dragons! They're not fairy tales at all!"

All of the dwarves looked at each other worriedly.

Sherlock eventually calmed down. "Now, you in grey, what did you want with me?"

"You wanted to go on an adventure, and here you are."

"No, no, no, no, no! You take me back right now! What's your name?!"

"Gandalf the grey."

"Gandalf the grey? What type of name is that?"

"It's my rank."

"Rank of what?"

"A wizard rank."

"Prove it." Sherlock snapped.

Everyone stared at each other in awe.

"How else would I get you here?" Sherlock's stare was ice cold and Gandalf sighed. "If I cannot seem to convince you otherwise, I think I know who can."

Gandalf walked back into the forest and everyone was silent, staring at their new company curiously. "What, exactly are you?" One of the Dwarves asked.

"Human. 100% human. What else could I be?!"

"Well, depending on your ears you could be an elf."

Sherlock rubbed his temples. "Of course, how could I miss elves?" he paused for a moment and smiled. "I must be drugged. Only possible explanation, nest there'll be goblins! This is all my imagination!"

"Actually, there is goblins. Nasty lot they are." Bilbo shuddered.

Sherlock stared at him in disbelief. "Trolls?"

"Yes."

"What the hell?" asked a voice, Sherlock turned around and wrapped his arms around John.

"Thank god! Something normal!"

"Sherlock what the hell is going on?"

"I have no clue, I just thought I was on a drug trip."

"Unless you're a figment of my imagination, this is real."

"Oh my word." Bilbo gasped. John's jaw dropped.

"Sherlock he has my face."

"I noticed."

"Why do you look exactly like me?" Bilbo asked.

"How should I know?!"

"It's not the strangest thing here, they say they're dwarves and mini you is a Hobbit. They also say that there's dragons and goblins and elves and trolls!"

John turned to Gandalf. "You take us home."

"Certainly." Gandalf smiled. But he handed two long packages to the two baffled men. "You open these when you are back in your flat, understood?"

"Fine, just take us home!"

Gandalf led them back into the forest and had them sit down on the bench. "I do hope you visit again." He waved them off. The forest began to fade away into the park where they were before. They quickly strode back to 221b Baker Street and ripped open their packages. They were gleaming, polished swords with a note in John's package.

"Dear Doctor Watson and Detective Holmes, I do hope you keep these items as they are made by the finest of craftsmen in Rivendell, I do wish that you may come back to middle earth and enjoy the sights, rather than panic. I assure you, you will find it very interesting.
Sincerely,
Gandalf the grey." John read out.

Sherlock shook his head. "So it was real."

"Apparently, you reckon we'll ever see him again?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I think it'd be quite interesting if we did."

They both smirked and put their swords away. John had started to make tea, but being the partner to the only consulting detective in London did keep you on your feet most of the time.