Chapter Text
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“O child of Aulë, lend thy ear
The future will lead you to a Seer
Whose songs will ring within your soul
Strong mind, soft heart, a living coal
The song of Aulë will ring true
When a dagger she will ask of you
Returning for a whetstone spare
Of love she may be unaware
By this you know when it is she
An unexpected love to be.”
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Part 1: An Unexpected Journey
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Prologue:
“Time went on without us on that fateful day. It seemed that the very world that we called ours had forgotten us, and continued on while we fought for another. This is the story of how we lost a year or so of our own time. How we grew in wisdom and insight, building bonds of friendship that would last, not just through our lifetimes, but for the time that both worlds existed.
Gandalf, Bilbo, Tauriel, and Bard have each generously added their two cents to that I am about to tell, but I have put it into my own words for the sake of all who will henceforth read this tale.
This story is not just about a hobbit, but the adventures that a few went through that would seal the fate of the world. The adventure, as you may know it, did not start in Hobbiton. It started in Bree.”
One: Unexpected Guests
In the middle of the night, rain fell heavily upon a small, dirty-looking town on the borders of the Shire.
A figure wearing a pack and a raincoat walked through the streets. A disheveled-looking man with his hood down, who bore a striking resemblance to the one and only Peter Jackson, walked across the street, eating a carrot.
The figure with the pack was considerably shorter than the other people on the street. He walked up to a building and paused, inspecting the sign hung above the door. It read, “The Prancing Pony.”
The figure, which was Thorin, looked about, then entered the tavern.
As he walked through, the bartender handed a drink to a man. “There you are.”
There was much raucous talk and laughter throughout the busy tavern. A black cat perched on a counter. A waitress, who bore resemblance to Peter Jackson's daughter Katie, threaded through the crowd at the pub carrying a mug and a platter of cheese and bread. Drunk, unruly customers got in her way, and she moved around them.
“Watch it!” she ordered. She made her way to Thorin's table and set down the mug and platter. “Here you are.”
“Thank you,” Thorin accepted the meal and put down his pipe, which he had been smoking. He tore apart his bread and began to eat it. As he ate, he looked around at all the activities going on in the pub. Sensing something, he looked to the right and saw a bald, shady man watching him. He looked to his left and saw another shady character watching him. Thorin put his bread back on his plate and, as the two men stood up and moved toward him, slowly wrapped his hand around the handle of his sword, which was strapped to his pack beside him.
Suddenly, Gandalf appeared at the table in front of him. He took the liberty to sit across from Thorin.
“Mind if I join you?”
As Katie passed by, Gandalf caught her sleeve. “I'll have the same.”
The suspicious men backed away as Gandalf began to speak to Thorin. “I should introduce myself. My name is Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey.”
“I know who you are,” Thorin said.
Gandalf smiled. “Well now! This is a fine chance. What brings Thorin Oakenshield to Bree?”
“I received word that my father had been seen wandering the Wilds near Dunland. I went looking, and found no sign of him,” Thorin replied.
“Thorin, it's been a long time since anything but rumor was heard of Thrain,” Gandalf appeased.
“He still lives; I am sure of it,” Thorin said defiantly.
Gandalf looked up as Katie set his platter of food in front of him.
“My father came to see you before he went missing. What did you say to him?” Thorin asked.
“I urged him to march upon Erebor; to rally the seven armies of the dwarves, to destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain. And I would say the same to you. Take back your homeland.”
Thorin picked up his mug and drank contemplatively. He paused and then noted, “This is no chance meeting, is it, Gandalf?”
“No, it is not. The Lonely Mountain troubles me, Thorin. That dragon has sat there long enough. Sooner or later, darker minds will turn toward Erebor. I ran into some unsavory characters whilst traveling along the Greenway. They mistook me for a vagabond.”
“I imagine they regretted that,” Thorin said, an amused light in his eyes for a moment.
“One of them was carrying a message.” Gandalf laid a dirty piece of cloth, with a message and a picture of the Lonely Mountain scrawled on it, on the table and pushed it toward Thorin. “It is Black Speech.”
Thorin, who had been reaching forward to take the message, warily pulled his hand away.
“Promise of payment,” Gandalf added.
“For what?” Thorin asked.
“Your head,” Gandalf ominously replied. “Someone wants you dead. Thorin, you can wait no longer. You are the heir to the throne of Durin. Unite the armies of the dwarves. Together you have the might and power to retake Erebor. Summon a meeting of the seven dwarf families. Demand they stand by their oaths.”
“The seven armies swore that oath to the one who wields the King's Jewel, the Arkenstone! It is the only thing that will unite them, and in case you have forgotten, that jewel was stolen by Smaug.”
Thorin and Gandalf looked up as the two shady men from before rose and left together, looking back over their shoulders at Thorin and Gandalf.
“What if I were to help you to reclaim it?” Gandalf offered.
“How?” Thorin wanted to know, “The Arkenstone lies half a world away, buried beneath the feet of a fire-breathing dragon.”
“Yes, it does, which is why we are going to need a burglar,” Gandalf replied.
Elsewhere, mere days later...
We had decided to spend our day at the library, reading our favorite books and series. The day was heavily overcast, the sky a light grey with no sign of the sun. I had picked out The Hobbit, because our family had recently watched the Hobbit movies and the memory of the characters was fresh in our minds.
We smiled fondly at the map of the Lonely Mountain with the little Smaug above it, and I turned the page.
“Manda... wait just a second...” said Abbie, breathing hard, “I think I need to—”
My eyes suddenly went out of focus and I vaguely remember setting the book down dizzily as I tried to kneel on the ground to wait for the vertigo to settle. I instead collided with my younger sister as we both reeled from some sudden force. I blacked out when it felt as if a giant tornado had lifted me into the air, and my sight, though I held open my eyes, faded into blackness.
***
Gandalf the Grey treaded carefully up the path to the Hill with the aid of his gnarled wooden staff.
He was humming one of the many traveling songs he knew, when he noticed something off to the side. A Daughter of Men and a She-Elf dressed in foreign clothing were lying unconscious by the roadside. He walked quickly over to investigate when the She-Elf coughed and said in a weak voice, “Mommy?”
He looked closer and noticed that the tips of her ears were rounded.
So they were both Daughters of Men, then. He knelt down onto the grass beside the pair. He felt the forehead of the younger one first; she was highly feverish and undoubtedly unconscious. He moved quickly to the other and laid his hand gently on her forehead; she was worse. He had to move quickly or the pair would pass beyond the point of recovery.
He borrowed a wheelbarrow from one of the hobbits' gardens nearby and laid the girls beside each other with their lower legs dangling from the open side. He laid his staff down by the older one and began heaving the wheelbarrow up to the Hill.
“BILBO BAGGINS!” he called.
The relatively young-looking fifty-year-old hobbit looked up from smoking his pipe. “Um... hello.”
“Help me get these girls inside; you can ask questions later. They're terribly sick; they'll die if someone doesn't help them immediately!”
Bilbo dropped his pipe on the bench and jumped up to aid Gandalf without another word.
***
I awoke to the sound of dishes clinking, faint enough to sound like it was coming from another room. I opened my eyes blearily, to a ceiling of reddish wood instead of the white ceiling I was so accustomed to waking up to.
I reached beside me to grab for my glasses, then, not feeling them there, tried to turn over, groaning as I moved my stiff limbs. “Ugh... my stomach... Janie?”
“You're awake,” said a voice as the owner of the voice came from an adjacent room. I looked up.
And almost squealed as I beheld, with perfect vision, the Martin Freeman version of Bilbo standing in the doorway with a teacup and saucer in his hands.
He noticed my shocked expression and mumbled to himself, “Pr'y never seen a hobbit before in her life—”
I stopped gaping and cleared my throat, shaking my head in amazement. “How did I get here?”
“Well, in short, you were carted here by a wizard,” he stated very matter-of-factly, nodding once as if he was agreeing with himself.
I blinked, still in shock. He approached me stiffly and set the teacup and saucer into my hands as I sat up. I smiled in thanks and blew on the hot beverage, picking up the teacup by the little handle and taking a sip.
“I'll bring some in for your sister when she wakes up,” he turned and began walking toward the door to the kitchen when he hesitated and turned around. “She is your sister, isn't she?”
I turned and looked at the sleeping form of my younger sister and smiled. “Yes, she is my sister.”
He smiled and left the room.
I almost laughed when he called from the kitchen, “Don't wake her up, she's probably still recovering!”
“It's good to see you're coming along well,” said a voice from another part of the room. I looked up and into the glittering grey eyes of Gandalf (who looked strangely like Ian McKellen in-character). “For a while there we weren't sure you'd recover. How are you feeling?”
“Well, other than a bit of a stomachache, which the tea is curing, I feel much better,” I smiled as Abbie chose that particular moment to come awake.
“Ugh, Manda... where am I?”
“You're in Bag End, in Hobbiton of the Shire, little one,” Gandalf replied for me.
Abbie tried to sit up, finally succeeding in holding herself semi-upright by one elbow and rubbed her eyes. “Huh... who—who's that?”
“I believe his name is ‘Grey—’ Something,” I replied, to which Gandalf smirked.
“Manda... can I have a drink of water? I'm thirsty,” Abbie said blearily.
“Sure,” I said. “Um... Bilbo? Abbie wants a cup of water.”
“All right, just a second, I'll get it,” he called back.
I glanced quickly at Gandalf, who had raised both eyebrows at me in a knowing manner.
Before I could come up with an excuse as to how I knew Bilbo's name, Abbie flopped back down onto her pillow and said, “Wait a minute, was that... Gandalf?”
Of course, we had recently watched the Hobbit films, so of course she would eventually recognize his voice. I know I could recognize the voice of any of them even if I could not see them. And I knew the types of things they would say.
Oh, yeah, and I was nerdy enough to know how to have conversations in Sindarin. And I had been wanting to learn Khuzdul, too, but hey, I knew everything that everyone said in the Hobbit movies, especially when they were in other languages, so I was good to go.
Unless, of course, something left the movieverse canon.
Gandalf, who had been staring intently at me, suddenly looked to Abbie, raising his eyebrows even more.
He frowned a little and leaned forward slowly, “How is it that you know our names?”
Just at that moment, Bilbo came into the room with a large cup of water. Abbie shot up in bed as he said, “Here's the cup of water, as requested.”
She thanked him profusely and accepted the cup of water, immediately drinking from it and then realizing who had just handed her a cup of water. Her eyes went wide. “Bilbo?”
Bilbo looked extraordinarily confused. “Have we met? I don't recall—”
“This is your hobbit-hole?!” Abbie exclaimed, starting to bounce on the bed. “I'm in your Hobbit-Hole?!”
Bilbo frowned. “Yes?”
Abbie started bouncing more and talking to me at a fast pace. I just put my hand to my forehead and shook my head and groaned.
“Smial, Abigail,” I corrected. “And yes. I'm aware.”
Abbie excitedly drank the rest of her water and laid back down grinning from ear to ear.
“You not only know our names,” said Gandalf, standing, “But you know where you are, as well!” He walked toward us, leaning on his staff. He narrowed his eyes. “Where are you from?”
The room became uncomfortably quiet. Then I cleared my throat and swallowed. “I'm not sure how to explain it, but I know this world like a familiar map.”
“Are you implying that you are from a different world? Where would that be, exactly?” Gandalf rumbled.
“I don't know how to explain it,” I said, distress entering my voice.
“Well then,” said Gandalf, in a much kinder tone, “How much of this world do you know?”
“A lot,” I said with confidence, “Although I'm not sure which time exactly we've fallen into,” okay that wasn't exactly truthful, “so I don't know what to be prepared for.”
“Teatime,” said Bilbo.
We all laughed.
Bilbo turned to Abbie. “You'll like some tea, won't you? Your sister already had some.”
“Yes please!” Abbie said, grinning.
Bilbo nodded and left the room.
Gandalf sat back down and lit his pipe, long puffs of smoke slowly moving in front of his grey beard.
Abbie propped her pillow up against the headboard and sat back against it, grinning as several things flitted through her head at once.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Abigail?” asked Gandalf.
“About what?” she asked in genuine confusion.
“Well, your sister here and you are obviously not from Middle-earth. What are you planning to do now?”
“She doesn't plan,” I cut in, “She can't focus on anything when she's this excited.”
“Well, what are you planning to do then?” he asked me.
“Follow the times, I suppose,” I said.
“Stay with Bilbo?” asked Abbie.
“I think that would be wise,” said Gandalf.
But which is wise? The following the times and/or the staying with Bilbo? I thought with a grin.
Bilbo came in and brought a teacup and saucer to Abbie, handing it to her like he'd just done for me.
“Thank you,” Abbie said sweetly.
Bilbo nodded once, almost a bow, and walked over to an easy chair to sit by Gandalf.
“They're going to have to stay with you, you understand, Bilbo,” said Gandalf in an authoritative yet non-threatening way. “I highly doubt that any other hobbit would be as amiable as you to taking them in.”
“Yes, I suppose,” said Bilbo, pulling out his own pipe and proceeding to light it.
I finished my tea and set the teacup and saucer back onto the nightstand. “Well, if we're going to stay here, Bilbo,” I said, “You're going to have to set some rules.”
“Rules? How do you mean?” Bilbo replied.
“I mean, Abbie can't go running about the house and poking at hundred-year-old furniture or anything, right? Or break things, or tear things up—”
Abbie looked at me, extremely offended and annoyed. “I don't ‘tear things up’! Run about the house?! Destroy furniture! What do you take me for?” she spluttered.
“Now now!” said Bilbo, in a placatory way, “I'm sure you don't do any of those things if you can help it. But your sister is right. Rules.”
“Fine, but who do I play with?”
“Me,” I said, with a grin. Abbie grumbled.
“Yes, Abigail, I'm afraid you're stuck with your sister for a while longer,” said Gandalf, looking ever so slightly amused.
“My sister? But she's—she's... Boring!” Abbie complained.
I burst out laughing. “I guess learning to speak Sindarin is boring to you then?”
“Kinda?” Abbie shrugged.
“That's Elvish, isn't it?” said Bilbo, with interest. “You know some of the language, then?”
“Enough to let the Elves know that I barely know any Sindarin!” I said.
Gandalf hummed in thought, clearly interested as well.
“I wish I could meet a real Elf,” Abbie said suggestively, grinning conspiratorially at me.
I just rolled my eyes. “Be careful what you wish for. You could end up with an Elf pointing an arrow tîr na nem lín (straight at your nose), or worse.” I grinned, to show I was joking. Bilbo mirrored my grin, recognizing the language switch.
But Abbie didn't get it. “The Elves wouldn't hurt me,” she stated, “Not the nice ones, anyway.”
“It depends on how you would define ‘nice’,” I said.
“You know,” said Gandalf, “I thought Abigail was an Elf when I first saw her. She has fine features that could easily be mistaken for an Elf's, if she hid her ears of course.”
“That's what I always tell her,” I said, “Now it might actually come in handy.”
“You're not planning on running off on your own, are you?” he looked at both of us with an expression neither of us were expecting.
“No!” “Of course not!” we said at the same time.
“We'll stay with Bilbo,” said Abbie.
I nodded. “Yeah. With Bilbo.”
Gandalf raised an eyebrow at the both of us. “Since when do you ever agree on anything?”
“When we're conspiring,” Abbie blurted. I slapped her arm.
“Shhh!” I said.
“When's dinner?” Abbie said randomly.
“Dinner?!” exclaimed Bilbo. “You only just had tea!” he went on mumbling about the proper time in the day for such things.
“Lunch then,” Abbie said instead. “But I'm hungry!”
“Yeah, Abbie,” I said with another roll of my eyes, “We haven't had a proper meal since, oh, I don't know, breakfast this morning?!” I burst out laughing again.
Bilbo was not amused. “You haven't had second breakfast yet? You must be famished—”
“We're fine without it. We're not hobbits,” I started to say when Abbie decided to add a comment.
“You know Mommy calls me a bottomless pit,” Abbie mumbled.
Gandalf quirked an eyebrow at us again. “Well, this was very amusing, but I'm afraid I have business elsewhere. Bilbo, come talk with me outside for a minute please,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. Bilbo, although looking like he wanted to cook up a full-course meal for us right there, got up and followed him quickly out.
“Manda, do you think this is the—”
“Events of the Hobbit? Yes,” I said in an equally quiet, equally excited tone.
Abbie started bouncing up and down again. “Do you think we will get to go with them?”
“If we don't,” I said, with a conspiratorial wink, “They'll have to put us in sacks and ship us back to the Shire!”
We both laughed at the reference to Lord of the Rings.
We heard Bilbo opening the door and yelling something out at Gandalf, ending in a very clear, “We do not want any adventures here, thank you. Not today, not—I suggest you try over the Hill or across the Water. Good Morning!”
Bilbo, in frustration, retreated into Bag End, gesturing at Gandalf with his pipe. Once inside, he bolted the door and leaned against it. Hearing a curious noise, he put his ear close to the door. The noise was from Gandalf carving a glowing symbol into Bilbo's door with his staff. Alarmed, Bilbo looked out his side window, only to find Gandalf's eye appear in front of him. He jumped back in fright and hid behind a wall. He looked out another window to see Gandalf hurrying away. He sagged against the door in relief, ignoring us for the present and scurrying off to another part of the smial.
I turned to Abbie and we both glanced to the doorway.
“Now we wait for nightfall,” I said in a low voice.
We both grinned.
“Maybe we can sleep until then,” Abbie suggested, “At least until we hear the first knock.”
“But what if we oversleep?” I reminded her. I looked to the doorway and added, “I don't think Bilbo's going to check on us. He probably wants to be left alone for a while now that Gandalf's ruffled his feathers.”
Abbie giggled at the silly picture it created in her mind. “Ruffled his feathers.”
“Whatever, you get what I mean,” I said with a grin.
“I wonder if Bilbo's going to make lunch early?” Abbie wondered. “I really am hungry.”
“Yeah, probably since we missed second breakfast,” I snickered, and added, “Then dinner.”
“So what'll we do in the meantime?” asked Abbie.
“You can take a nap, if you like,” I suggested. “I'm sure he'll have lunch ready by then.”
Abbie yawned and laid back, closing her eyes, gradually falling asleep.
But I stayed awake, and got up slowly, so as to not wake her. I was curious as to what the whole inside of the smial was like, and no one was going to stop me from exploring every inch of it.
I tip-toed out of the room and into the next one, the dining room. I smiled at the vacant space, imagining the shock on Bilbo's face as it filled up with twelve rowdy Dwarves. I imagined Thorin himself entering and the map and key being revealed.
The Quest for Erebor. And that's where we were headed if everything turned out just right. But I had my own private side-quest to plan: Preserving the Line of Durin from death. Abbie shouldn't know about it. She would have enough to freak out over when Orcs and Wargs would attack, and did not need to trouble herself over the saving of a line of descendants. No, this would be my quest to bear. And I knew exactly when to reveal what they needed to know to keep them from certain death. I just had to keep their deaths to myself, and hopefully Abbie wouldn't go blabbing the future to anyone, especially the enemy.
I walked back out of the dining room deep in thought, not noticing Bilbo leaning on the doorway that led to the front door.
“You say you're from a different world,” said Bilbo. “What's it like?”
I thought for a moment, and replied, “There are no more Elves, or Dwarves, or Hobbits, where I come from. Only the race of Men, few of royal blood and less noble,” I said sadly. “The Ents do not walk or speak or sing, indeed I am not sure if they even exist in my world, and all other creatures are those of animal kind and do not have the ability to speak. The race of Men entertain themselves by building great machines that can do many things, and buildings that reach into the sky, many, many stories tall. I wish my world was more like yours, because then I would love it and not wish to be in this one.”
“Perhaps that is why you are here,” said Bilbo, thoughtfully, “You wished yourself to be here, and so it has happened.”
“I believe I have a purpose in this world,” I said.
“Do you know what it is?” asked Bilbo.
“I think so,” I replied (not knowing my full purpose yet), “But I would not have anyone else know it, lest they unintentionally hinder me from my goal.”
Bilbo frowned slightly.
I put my hands on his shoulders, since he was only a head shorter than I. “Know this, Bilbo Baggins, that I mean no harm to anything but the evil in this world, and I would see the evil destroyed if I could.”
“I do not doubt you,” Bilbo said with a smile. I let my hands down from his shoulders and smiled. He continued to smile and said, “Shall I make an early lunch?” He began walking around me to the kitchen as he said this, “Your sister was complaining about it earlier.”
I stepped out of his way and laughed. “That would be nice, Bilbo, thank you.”
“Depends on your definition of ‘nice’ I believe,” called Bilbo from the kitchen, causing me to laugh again as I followed to see if I could help with anything.
“You're a guest!” spluttered Bilbo. “Guests don't help the host!”
I looked wide-eyed at him, thinking, Just you wait until thirteen hungry Dwarves invade your pantry. Then you'll want all the help you can get.
Bilbo thought over his own words and calmed down, smiling. “I can manage, but thank you for the offer.”
I smiled back.
I heard Abbie waking up from her nap in the adjacent room and went to her.
Abbie woke up to see me walking into the room, and she smiled.
I smiled back and went to sit over on my bed next to her.
“How long was I asleep?” she asked me.
“Not long,” I replied, “Bilbo's making lunch, and that'll tide us over until dinnertime,” I ended with a wink.
“I can't wait!” she exclaimed.
I snickered. “Boy is poor Bilbo in for a surprise!”
“Or... thirteen surprises,” Abbie replied.
“More like a couple of small surprises, one slightly bigger surprise, one HUGE surprise, and the king of surprises to top it all off,” I laughed.
“And a very unexpected surprise afterward!” Abbie laughed.
“What's all this talk of surprises?” said Bilbo suddenly from the doorway. We jerked up to look at him.
“Uh... nothing,” I said.
Bilbo did that annoying thing with his nose and replied, “Well, lunch is ready, not that you won't find it disagreeable with your taste or stomachs or—”
I turned to Abbie. “Now he's sounding like a regular Puddleglum. Let's go before he starts!”
Yeah, I know. I'm a nerd.
And we jumped up and followed him to the dining room, exclaiming how there would be no way we would ever find his food disagreeable with our hungry stomachs.
“Well, all right then,” he said a little hesitantly, setting the food before us at the places that we sat down.
Abbie began wolfing the food down right away as soon as her food was on the table, murmuring how tasty the food was. I grinned and set into my food a little less greedily, though still as fast.
Bilbo sat across from us, watching us warily as he ate his own food.
“This is really good, Bilbo, thank you,” I said politely, elbowing Abbie to do the same.
She finished her oversized bite and nodded. “Thanks for lunch, Mr. Bilbo.”
He nodded in return and smiled. “I'm glad you like it,” he said in a relieved tone.
I smiled at him and focused again on my food, delving into it with more gusto.
“Mr. Bilbo, may I sit on the front porch?” Abbie said, pushing her plate forward and standing up.
Bilbo looked at her plate in shock. It was scraped clean.
“Yes, of course,” he said, still staring at the plate.
Abbie jumped around her seat and practically skipped to the round green door.
Bilbo glanced up and called to her, “Oh! And, while you're out there, would you check around to make sure Gandalf's not messed with anything? I heard a funny scraping sound earlier.”
“Of course!” she said with glee, skipping outside and shutting the door behind her.
Bilbo looked at me, then took Abbie's dishes and set them in the sink to be washed. He turned to me again, opening his mouth to speak. He thought better of it and closed his mouth, but then inhaled and finally blurted, “What are you two up to?”
“What do you mean, Bilbo?” I asked, surprised.
“Don't think I haven't noticed. All the winking, and laughing, and code words—”
“Code words?” I said, genuinely shocked.
“Well, you know, all the talk of surprises and waiting for something. It sounds like you're planning mischief.”
I laughed. “No, we wouldn't dare. I don't think anyone would dare prank you, Bilbo. You're too respected for that.”
“So you're not plotting anything?”
“No reason to,” I said.
Bilbo still looked slightly suspicious, but decided not to comment and exhaled with relief instead.
“Well,” he nodded, as if to himself, “You can help me clear these dishes, if you like.”
“Sure!” I said, glad of something to do. I finished clearing away the dishes while he put away the containers of food. I went to wash the dishes, but smiled uncertainly at Bilbo. He was putting away the food still and didn't object, so I proceeded to do so.
After I had finished washing and stacking the dishes, careful not to chip anything, I wiped off the table and went to find Bilbo.
I found him in his easy chair, smoking again.
“I finished cleaning the dining room,” I shrugged, shaking the damp ends of my sleeves.
“Thank you,” he replied, taking the end of his pipe out of his mouth to do so. “Hmm. You got your sleeves wet. I could find something of mine for you to wear; you're not that much bigger than I am.”
“What? Why should I change my whole shirt? I could just let the sleeves air-dry,” I said, sensibly.
“And have you catch cold from wearing the chilly thing close to your body!” he said, sounding way more sensible than I was being.
“Well...” I stumbled for words, “Um... I don't usually catch cold.”
“Usually,” he said, still not convinced.
“Well, I guess I could... borrow... something of yours, if you insist.”
“I do insist.”
And with that he got up and went to a drawer to find me a top to wear.
Well, at least I still had my jeans, even if he did make me wear a more hobbitish top.
He came back with an entire outfit: an off-white tunic that came with a maroon vest, and brown breeches.
“An entire outfit? Really, Bilbo?” I said uncertainly.
“Go on, put it on,” he encouraged, stuffing the small pile into my hands. “I'll go into another room so you can change into it.”
He promptly stepped out of the room and turned a corner.
I sighed, taking off my longsleeve shirt, but leaving my camisole on, and pulled on the tunic and vest. I then took off my jeans and pulled on the breeches. I folded my shirt and jeans and picked them up.
“Okay, Bilbo, I'm done. Where do I put these?”
He turned the corner, walked back into the room and took my old clothes from me. “I'll just put these in a safe place for you,” he said as he pattered off to put them someplace.
I looked after him, to try to see where he was putting them.
“Oh, and you're supposed to button the vest!” he called back toward where I was still standing.
I looked down at myself. Sure enough, I had left the buttons undone.
At least the outfit isn't totally boyish, I thought to myself as I buttoned up the vest.
Bilbo came back into the room and looked me over. “Good, very good. You could almost pass for a hobbit, now. You're not much taller than I am.”
I grinned. “So, I don't look too much like a boy in this, then?”
“Oh, no, of course not!” Bilbo exclaimed. “In fact, it rather suits you. I'm sure your sister would look better in a little hobbit dress, though.”
He walked around behind me and tucked my wavy chocolate brown hair behind my ears. I leaned into the touch, remembering when my dear sister Janie would do that. Janie and I had been practically inseparable as kids.
He came back around to stand in front of me.
“A stunning picture you make,” he said quietly, almost as if to himself.
I blushed. “That's very sweet of you, Bilbo.”
He, in turn, blushed as red as I, stammering something unintelligible and finding some excuse to wander off to another part of the smial.
Abbie chose that particular moment to barge in through the round green door and say, “Nothing out of the ordinary!” just a bit too loudly, and slam it behind her before Bilbo could even respond or come around the corner.
I walked out into the hallway to meet her and she saw what I was wearing: hobbitish off-white tunic, maroon button vest, and brown breeches.
“Wow, you certainly look like a hobbit,” Abbie remarked.
“At least I don't look like a boy. I got my sleeves wet washing the dishes and Bilbo insisted on changing my entire outfit!” I laughed.
“Where is Bilbo, anyway?” Abbie asked.
Bilbo peeked out from behind a corner warily, which I thought was extremely adorable. “You're sure there was nothing out of the ordinary?”
“Absolutely sure,” Abbie said confidently. I could see the smile hidden behind her eyes.
“Well, that's a relief,” he paused. “Do you want me to buy you a hobbitish dress, Abbie?”
“Oh, sure!” she exclaimed. “That'll be awesome!”
“I take that as a yes?” Bilbo said questioningly.
“Yes!” Abbie jumped up and down and nodded vigorously.
I laughed.
Bilbo smiled. “Well then, there's no reason why I can't go get it now.”
“Wait... now?” I said.
I looked at Abbie. What if...
“Oh, don't worry, I'll be back well before dinnertime so we can all relax a bit!” Bilbo rambled distractedly, grabbing a few things before he headed out.
Abbie and I exhaled in relief.
Bilbo opened the round green door and turned to look at us. “Now be good, both of you,” he said, pointing at us. He then shut the door and hurried down the path outside.
We stared at the door and then at each other.
“What if he comes back later than he says he will?” I whined at the ceiling. “Respectable hobbit indeed! He better live up to his name, or I'm gonna have to deal with the dwarves! They might think I'm the burglar! Not that I'm that bad at going unnoticed but I might mess up the entire beginning of the plot, or worse!”
“Aw, don't be silly,” Abbie chided, “Bilbo'll stick to his word, and he might even get back earlier than he said.”
“You're right, I guess. But I'm just so stressed out now that he's off somewhere!” I paused and lifted one of my bare feet from the floor to examine it. “Hey, do you think there are splinters in the floor?”
“No, I don't think so,” she replied.
I let go of my foot and put it back on the floor. “Gonna have to get some boots too. Might have to ask Gandalf to get us some when we leave without Bilbo in the morning.”
“We're not gonna leave without Bilbo... are we?” Abbie said in surprise.
“If you'll remember, he wakes up to find all the mess cleaned up and the Contract on the table. The Dwarves have started without him, and he runs out his door without a handkerchief, yelling, ‘I'm going on an adventure!’ to his neighbors.”
“Well, I'm going to bring his handkerchief, then, so he doesn't have to use a torn-off piece of someone's shirt.”
“Bofur's, I believe. But then Gandalf won't get to say, ‘You'll have to do without handkerchiefs and a great many other things before this adventure is over,’ will he?”
“I'll give it to him after Bofur hands him the rag and Gandalf says that,” Abbie said with a conspiratorial grin.
I laughed. “Won't he be surprised.”
“Just another unexpected surprise on his unexpected journey!” Abbie laughed.
I smiled sneakily. “And if Gandalf takes us to Rivendell to stay, we'll get the Dwarves to bring us along, somehow.”
“Or, they'll have to sack us and ship us back to the Shire, in which case we'd just turn right up again!” Abbie added, referencing the quote again.
“Do we have a plan?” I grinned almost evilly.
“The plan is: sneaking. Unless you can think of a better one.”
“Reminds me of when Sam caught Smeagol looking over the side after he'd tossed the lembas down,” I laughed. “And Smeagol said, ‘Sneaking.’”
“And Sam replied, ‘Have it your way, then,’” Abbie continued.
“I don't think there is any way to convince those Dwarves to bring us along. Unless I reveal that we know more than we should—”
“Which is a perfectly bad idea.” Abbie interjected. “Like I said, ‘sneaking.’”
“I thought I said that,” I complained.
“I was thinking it,” Abbie shot back.
“‘Have it your way, then,’” I replied. We both laughed.
I walked to one of the windows and looked out. “Where is that confounded hobbit?!”
Abbie ran up to the window and looked out as well. “...Look there he is!”
I turned to her in annoyance. “That's some old hobbit.”
“It looks kinda like the Old Bilbo,” she grinned in reply.
“No it doesn't. No one can look like Bilbo.” I sighed and looked out again. “Oh, thank goodness, there he is.”
We watched through the window as Bilbo scurried up the path and came to his front door.
“Oh, gosh, the G rune! He'll see it!” I exclaimed and rushed up to the door, yanking it open.
“I'm back!” said Bilbo, smiling.
Abbie came up beside me and elbowed me. I stopped looking freaked out and instead looked relieved. “Well, welcome home, Bilbo. Abbie's been anxious to see her new dress.”
Abbie grinned with delight as Bilbo handed her the folded garment. It was a forest green color.
Abbie let it unfold in her hands as she held the shoulders of the garment. It fell open almost to her feet.
“It's beautiful, I love it!” Abbie exclaimed.
“I got you the tallest size I could,” said Bilbo, huffing from his exertion of trying to hurry, holding a few package-wrapped fishes under one arm. “I hope it fits. Would you like to try it on?”
“Of course! Do you have like, a bathroom or something?”
Bilbo looked quite confused.
I jumped in quickly. “Just head to another room and change. Bilbo will put your old clothes in a safe place when you're done.”
“Okay, but, nobody look in,” Abbie said, taking the dress off to another room.
“Call out to us when you're done!” I said.
“Okay!” Abbie called back from the adjacent room.
After a few minutes, she came back out wearing the dress, handing off the rumpled heap of her old outclothes to Bilbo. He took it wordlessly and began folding it.
“I love it!” she repeated. “Thank you so much, Mr. Bilbo!”
Bilbo smiled. “I'm glad you like it. Now how about we make some dinner?” he held up the wrapped fishes.
“Yes!” we eagerly agreed.
Bilbo walked off to the dining room, setting her clothes aside somewhere as he went.
Abbie and I looked at each other in our Middle-earth-ish outfits and grinned.
“Don't you just love it?” Abbie twirled in her new dress.
“This is going to be so much fun,” I breathed, skipping about in my tunic, vest, and breeches.
“I know,” Abbie replied.
“Will you two help me in here?” called Bilbo from the dining room.
We looked at each other, laughed, and walked into the dining room to help Bilbo set up for dinner.
“What do you need, Bilbo?” I called to him. He wasn't in the dining room so he was probably in the pantry.
“Set the places with these plates. I'll bring out the fish and other things.” He approached us and handed us a small stack of three plates. “Careful not to break them.”
“Of course,” I said, taking the plates from Bilbo. “Abbie, go on and help him get all the food.”
“All righty,” Abbie agreed and followed Bilbo to the pantry. Bilbo began handing her things: a container of salt, another of lemon juice, and two or three large cloth napkins. She carried them as carefully as she was able and set them on the table, giving the cloth napkins to me. I folded them into triangles and laid them neatly by the plates.
“Neat,” Abbie stared at my handiwork.
We helped Bilbo bring in the fishes he'd brought home; they were the main course. He brought some other side things to put on the dishes as well, arranging and making things look delectable.
He had just picked up the cloth napkin and began to stuff one end into his shirt when the doorbell rang.