"Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared with love in dreams. Love in dreams is greedy for immediate action, rapidly performed and in sight of all." —Fyodor Dostoevsky; The Brothers Karamazov

Prologue

The docks were busy. Men bustled around, tossing nets into barges and slipping coins into pockets with wary glances.

One man in particular stood at the edge of the docks, looking down into the water. He swayed forward a little, as though contemplating jumping in, then pulled back.

Another man sidled up to the first, his dark, slick hair and glinting eyes contrasting with the other's full red beard and downcast blue eyes.

"For a minute I thought you weren't going to show up," the second man said, his voice rolling out in a drawl. He bumped the taller man with his elbow and tilted his head at the rattle the motion elicited. "Stones, hm? Nice touch."

The taller man leaned away, the stones in his pockets rattling again. "Give me your word that you'll lift the spell."

The dark-haired man only grinned.

"Your word."

The other's grin only widened. "You have my woooord, then." He stepped back, giving the bearded man a light shove. "Well, get on with it."

The taller of the two swallowed, hard, as one boot scraped against the edge of the dock. His jaw clenched and he leaned forward—

"Da!"

Both men spun around at the shrill cry, as did most of the workers around them. A little girl, no older than six or seven, stood at the other end of the docks, her eyes wide.

This sight seemed to strengthen the resolve of the first man. His shoulders lowered, stiffened, and he spoke in a low voice.

"I'm sorry."

His boots scraped again and the girl screamed as he stepped into the water.

Several men ran to the edge, staring into the rippling water with pale faces. No one noticed the dark, slick-haired man slip back into the shadows as as light snow began to fall, the screams of the child echoing across the water.

Chapter 1: In Quest of a Kingdom

20 years later

Holly Curuwen rapped on the top of the counter, getting the inkeeper's attention.

He turned to her, a friendly smile lifting his mustache. "Well, hello there, little lady. How can I help you?"

She ignored his attempts at a polite greeting. "I'm looking for a mage. He passed through here a couple of days ago. Blond hair, about six feet tall, scar on the right side of his face."

The man paled. "W-What do you be wanting with a mage?" No doubt he was uncomfortable with acknowledging any 'strange folk' visiting his inn. But she didn't expect anything less from a man with a below-average intelligence living on the borders of the Shire. The inkeeper glanced around the bar, searching the faces of the patrons. "Where are your parents?"

"I'm not a child." Holly sighed and shifted, trying to hide the fact that she was standing on her tip-toes. People always made that assumption given her less-than-average height, which brought her no end of irritation.

"Are you a dwarf, then?" the inkeeper asked, trying to change the subject.

"No." She tried to keep the impatience out of her voice. She had to be polite if she wanted him to cooperate. "My apologies. You see, I was asking around for my friend, and I was told that he was headed for the nicest tavern in Bree, but…" She sent a pointed glance toward the door. "I suppose I could have been mistaken. Good day."

"Now, just wait a second!" The innkeeper leaned over the counter, mustache bristling. Holly wasn't aware that mustaches could do such a thing, but there it was.

"Really, it's all right," she said with what she hoped was a polite smile. "I'll try the inn down the street."

"There'll be no need for that." The innkeeper leaned back and rustled around for something under the counter. He slapped a book down onto the wood and opened it. "Alden Blackthorn, is it? That's who you want?"

Holly couldn't help it. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"He died a couple of days ago. Found in his bed with his throat slit." The man gave her a stern look. "Nasty business. Don't you get mixed up in that sort of thing."

As if he had any authority over the matter. Holly hissed out a curse and turned away from the counter. She'd gotten a bit too 'mixed up' in the matter already to back out.

Alden Blackthorn was a necromancer, and though she'd never met him in person, she'd been hoping he could give her some advice. Necromancers were supposed experts on dark magic, after all. But someone had already gotten to him. There was always the chance that he had faked his death, but that would mean he didn't want to be found, and she would have little chance of tracking him from now on.

"Indeed. It would not be wise to meddle with forces you do not understand."

Holly turned at the sound of a new voice. The innkeeper had moved on to help a customer, leaving her alone at the counter with an old man. Her eyes flicked over his worn gray robe and unkempt beard. There were only two kinds of people who tended to dress like that—wizard and homeless men, and she doubted a homeless man would take to wearing such a ridiculous hat. Wizard, then.

Perhaps he could be of some use.

…...

They had taken a seat in a quiet area of the tavern. Holly drummed her fingers on the table, meeting the wizard's gaze with a cool stare.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Mr. Butterbur. You are looking for a mage, yes?" His expression became stern. "And a necromancer, at that. That is certainly not the sort of company one such as yourself should be involved with."

"'One such as myself'?" Holly raised an eyebrow. "You know nothing about me."

The wizard leaned forward, holding her gaze. "I know that you are clever, judging by your conversation with the innkeeper. And I believe I may have another use for your skills. Something that may eventually provide what you are seeking."

"I'm listening."

"There is going to be a meeting next week in the hobbit hole known as Bag End. I believe it would be rather beneficial for you to attend."

"In the Shire?" Interesting.

"Indeed. We will be discussing an undertaking of great importance. I believe you may be of use to our cause."

"Hm," she said, trying to sound disinterested. "And where is this Bag End?"

"You will find it behind the green door at the top of the hill. I will leave a mark on the door. You won't miss it. Good day." The wizard stood up and left the tavern.

Holly watched him go. A meeting of 'great importance' in the Shire. The words 'importance' and 'Shire' didn't belong in the same sentence, as far as she was concerned. And that fact, along with the involvement of a wizard, was enough to intrigue her.

Her business with dark magic could wait. She'd been hitting dead ends for weeks anyway. Perhaps a distraction was just what she needed.

…..

Bag End was easy enough to find. A glowing rune had been etched onto a round door painted the color of basil. Holly placed a hand on the polished doorknob, the light of the moon mingling with the brassy metal.

As the door opened, the sounds of merriment flooded into the quiet Shire air. Holly inched into the house. A pile of weapons lay in a heap next to the door. A closer look informed her that they were of dwarvish make. What kind of meeting was this?

Quite a lot of noise was coming from farther in, leading her to believe that this was where the food was. A loud thumping noise sounded, followed by peals of drunken laughter.

If nothing else…this will be interesting.

She hadn't even made it into the dining room before a tomato flew threw the air, missing her head by mere inches. A group of dwarves sat around the dining room table, involved in what appeared to be an amalgam of a feast and a food fight. She turned around, ready to walk back out, but—

"Hello there, lass!"

She spun back around. One of the dwarves grinned rather drunkenly at her, adjusting a ridiculous-looking hat. The rest had turned to look at her as well.

"You must be Mrs. Baggins!"

As if. It was irritating enough that she was short enough to be mistaken for a hobbit. Coming to this party was beginning to look like a more and more horrible idea.

"You're mistaken. I'm simply here because someone invited me…" She trailed off, feeling the muscles in her jaw constrict. Everyone was staring at her.

"Ah, Holly, glad to see you could make it!" Said someone appeared, ducking through one of the low arching doorways.

"Yes, I did." Holly decided this was the first and last time she would be glad to see the old man.

"Allow me to introduce the others: Fili, Kili, Dori, Nori, Ori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dwalin, Balin, Oin, and Gloin." After the man had assigned a name to each of the twelve dwarves in the room, Holly introduced herself. A few of the dwarves gave awkward waves, while others stared with suspicion. Holly stood still, wondering what she was supposed to do next.

"Well, don't just stand there. Come and get some supper!" the dwarf named Dori waved her over. The other dwarves resumed their conversations, and Holly let out a small sigh of relief. She walked into the dining room and grabbed some food. Perhaps she could still make it out of there with minimum casualties to her dignity.

"You're rather short, for a child of Men," a red-haired dwarf named Gloin said.

She turned to face him, a biting remark on the tip of her tongue, but another dwarf intervened before she speak.

"Don't worry about Gloin, lass." Another red-head, this one named Nori, clapped Gloin on the shoulder. "He's suspicious of anyone who's not a dwarf, and I suspect he's had a little too much ale tonight." He winked at her.

Gloin grunted and turned to talk to someone else.

Nori stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"...Nice to meet you, too." His frank honesty and friendly attitude would have made him likeable if Holly had been interested in socializing. Which she wasn't.

"Well, what do you think?" The dwarf gestured to the chaos around them with his mug of ale. "You seem like the type to enjoy parties. I hope we aren't too dull for you."

Was he joking? He must be joking. Holly wasn't sure how to reply. "Dull, yes. But not in the way you're implying."

To her surprise, Nori didn't look offended at all. But before he could reply, a roll smacked him right in the temple, distracting him and giving Holly a chance to escape.

"Enjoying yourself so far?"

Holly turned to face the old man, ignoring his attempt at small talk. "Why am I here?"

"I suggest that you stay for the discussion afterwards. I have a proposition in mind for you, once you learn all the details."

Holly fixed him with a cool stare. "And are you waiting to induce dramatic effect or do you not actually have all the details?"

"We are waiting for one other person. Once he arrives, we will discuss everything as a group."

Ah, right. Team effort and all that.

Holly tilted her head. "You're a wizard. But if you were important, I'd recognize you, so..." She fixed the elderly man with a scrutinizing stare. "Who are you?"

"My name is Gandalf the Gray. You may have heard of me, though hopefully not because of my fireworks."

She recognized the name. Everyone wrote stories and told tales about a tall gray wizard who could conjure a crackle of lightning with a wave of his staff. But after meeting him in person she doubted the texts she'd read had been entirely accurate. Nonetheless, a hobbit hole was an odd place for dwarves to congregate, and the fact piqued her interest about this discussion. "All right. You've intrigued me. I'll stay for the meeting."

Gandalf nodded, satisfied. "Good. Have you met Bilbo yet?"

Holly presumed he was referencing the owner the house. "No, I haven't." Would she have to talk to him too?

"Bebother and confusticate these dwarves!"

Apparently she wouldn't get a choice in the matter, Holly mused as a hobbit marched into the room, fists clenched in frustration. Might as well introduce herself before any more ill-founded assumptions were made.

"Impressive vocabulary," she said, making him look up. When he saw her, his shoulders rose with increasing exasperation.

"Wha—who are you?"

What a warm welcoming I've received so far, Holly thought as she mustered all the amiability she possessed. "Holly Curuwen." She held out her hand.

The hobbit hesitated, then seemed to recover and shook it. "Bilbo Baggins. Uh, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," she replied automatically.

He released her hand with a slight nod and turned to the wizard. "Gandalf, there is a slight problem."

"My dear Bilbo, what on Earth is the matter?"

"What's the matter? I'm surrounded by dwarves. What are they doing here?"

Holly raised an eyebrow. Had they all just walked into his house uninvited?

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them," Gandalf said, and his sheepish expression made it quite clear that he had been the one to invite the dwarves into Bag End.

"I don't want to get used to them!" Bilbo raised a finger in a manner of indignation only a hobbit could express. "The state of my kitchen! There's mud trod into the carpet, they've pi-pillaged the pantry, and I'm not even going to tell you what they've done to the bathroom. They've all but destroyed the plumbing! I don't understand what they're doing in my house!"

Before Gandalf could say anything, Ori shuffled in, clutching a green dish.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

"Here, Ori, give it to me!" Fili sauntered in and took the plate, throwing it to Kili, who threw it to someone else in the kitchen.

"E-Excuse me, that's my mother's West Farthing crockery! It's over one hundred years old!" Bilbo scrambled after the dwarves to rescue his plate.

Curious, Holly followed him into the dining room. Dori, Gloin, Bofur, and Nori were thumping out a rhythm on the table with the silverware.

"And c-can you not do that?" Bilbo said. "You'll blunt them!"

"Ooh, d'you hear that, lads?" Bofur grinned. "He says we'll blunt the knives!"

Holly backed out of the way as a bowl flew past her head. If they started bloody singing like bards at a festival…

"Blunt the knives, bend the forks…"

More of Bilbo's dishware became airborne as Holly sidestepped out of the room. She hoped this gathering actually had a purpose other than drunken antics.

A few minutes later, their singing dissolved into laughter, which dissolved into silence as three loud knocks resounded from the front door.

"He is here," Gandalf said.

Someone important, Holly concluded. Finally.

They all shuffled into the foyer, watching the newcomer—another dwarf—pace around Bilbo as though examining him.

"So...this is the hobbit. Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"P-Pardon me?"

"Axe or sword, what is your weapon of choice?"

"Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's- why that's relevant."

"Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar," the dwarf said, causing the other dwarves to chuckle. His eyes locked onto Holly. "Gandalf. You made no mention of a woman."

"That is because I only met her earlier today, Thorin. There has been a slight change of plans."

Change of plans? Holly frowned. Were they planning to involve her in whatever this meeting was about?

"But I think that is best to be discussed once you've had something to eat," Gandalf said.

So everyone shuffled back into the dining room. The dwarves sat around the now-cleared table as Bombur served Thorin some leftover soup. Holly stood off to the side, impatient. Perhaps she would finally get some answers as to what they were all here for.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?" Balin asked.

"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms," Thorin replied.

"What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Are they with us?" Dwalin asked.

"They will not come. They say this quest is ours, and ours alone."

They are going on a quest to reclaim Erebor, Holly realized. She'd heard about the fall of the great dwarven kingdom as a child. And what else would they be gathering an army for? The pieces of this strange puzzle began to click together, with empty spaces concerning herself. She threw a glance in Gandalf's direction, who nodded at her to be patient.

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo asked.

"Aye, the portents say it is time. Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain," Oin replied. "When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast shall end."

They had decided to undertake a most likely fatal quest because of some birds? Honestly.

Bilbo's eyes widened. "Beast? What beast?"

"Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible," Bofur informed the hobbit. The name sent a jolt of shivers down Holly's spine, which was ridiculous because it was just a name. It was just a name. "Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Teeth like razors, claws like meathooks—"

"Yes, I know what a dragon is."

"I must warn all of you: the task would be nearly impossible with an army behind us," Balin said. "But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor the brightest."

That's for sure, Holly agreed. Unless they were planning to sing the dragon to death.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us, to the last dwarf!" Fili's statement elicited several determined nods around the table.

"And you forget, we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time," Kili said.

"Oh, well, I wouldn't say that…" Gandalf began, but the dwarves were too excited by this point to pay attention to him.

"We may have a chance yet, lads!" Gloin banged his fist on the table.

"Wrong."

Fifteen heads turned to Holly, who regarded them with raised eyebrows. "If you think you lot have a shot at this, you're wrong. Optimism, which you all seem to have an overabundance of, won't get you anywhere. Neither will all the dwarf armies in the world. Defeating a dragon is impossible, unless you have some sort of secret weapon that I've yet to hear about."

Several mouths opened in protest to her speech, but what could they say? She was speaking with a logical point of view, from which all her observations would be irrefutable.

"The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years," Thorin said, fixing her with a look that was not quite a glare. He turned back to the others, as if that statement alone had been enough to dismiss hers. "Eyes look east to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?" His voice escalated into a determined cry as the dining room echoed with the cheering of the dwarves.

Holly let her shoulders fall into a more relaxed posture. They were tenacious—she would give them that. But that would probably get them killed anyway.

Balin's voice managed to calm the dwarves from their momentary revelry. "You forget—the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf pulled a coal-black key out of his sleeve with an air of what Holly supposed was meant to be mystery.

Thorin's eyes widened. "How came you by this?"

"It was given to me by your father, Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now." The wizard handed Thorin the key. Thirteen shining eyes stared at the object.

"If there's a key, there must be a door!" Fili said.

Obviously. Holly resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This meeting was becoming a bit tedious.

"The runes speak of a passage into the lower halls," Gandalf said. "But I do not know where to find this passage. However, there are others in Middle Earth who may have the skill to read this map. The quest ahead of us will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. If we are careful and clever, I believe it may be done."

"That's why we need a burglar!" Ori said.

All eyes turned to Bilbo, who nodded. "Hm. A good one too. An expert, I'd imagine."

"And are you?" Oin asked, adjusting his ear trumpet.

"A-Am I what?"

"He said he's an expert, lads!" Oin's comment comment caused several of the dwarves to laugh.

"W-What? Me? No, no, I'm not an expert! No!" Bilbo wrung his hands.

"I'm afraid I'll have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He hardly seems like burglar material," Balin said. Holly agreed as well. The hobbit would get everyone killed before they could reach the Misty Mountains.

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves," Dwalin said with a warning glare in the hobbit's direction.

This sparked several conversations between the individual dwarves, which showed signs of escalating into a full-blown argument had Gandalf not intervened.

"ENOUGH! IF I SAY BILBO BAGGINS IS A BURGLAR THEN A BURGLAR HE IS!" The wizard's form seemed to grow taller as he cast shadows around the room.

"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet and can pass unseen if they choose," he said in a milder tone as he sat back down. "And the smell of a hobbit would be all but unknown to a dragon. You have asked me to find a fourteenth member for our company and I have chosen Mister Baggins. There is a lot more to him than meets the eye."

"Fine. We'll do it your way," Thorin said. "Give him the contract."

"No, no, no—"

Balin handed Bilbo a piece of parchment. When he unfolded it, the paper stretched all the way down to the floor.

Thorin turned to stare at Holly. "And what of the woman?"

"I do, in fact, have a name—"

"She will be accompanying us as well," Gandalf said before she could start an argument herself.

"What?" Thorin and Holly said at the same time. They stared at each other for an awkward second, then the dark-haired dwarf turned away.

"The wee lass?" Gloin raised a fiery eyebrow. "But she's only a child."

"I am well into my adult years already," Holly said, feeling tension bunch up in her shoulders. It wasn't as though she wanted to prove anything to them. But she wasn't going to have this lot believe that she was anything less than full-grown (in years, if nothing else).

"But you're so short," Bofur said.

Before Holly could say anything particularly horrible, Thorin came to her rescue.

"I will not have a woman on this quest."

Holly twitched a little at the comment but turned to Gandalf instead. "You're making the ill-supported assumption that I want to go on this quest. Did I not just say that killing a dragon would be impossible?" It wasn't that she didn't want to go. She felt an inexplicable interest in seeing the lost kingdom of Erebor. And attempting to kill a dragon would provide an interesting challenge. But few things annoyed her quite as much as someone bossing her around.

"Both of you are acting like children! There are bigger things at work here and I strongly suggest that you take my advice!"

"You've strongly suggested quite a few things, but if I choose to go on this quest it will be my decision, and mine alone," Holly said, too caught up in being impudent to wonder what he meant about 'bigger things'.

"I will not have a woman on this quest!" Thorin repeated through clenched teeth. "It is too dangerous, and she has not the skills that will allow her to survive! She will only be a burden! And I will not be responsible for her death," he added in a more subdued tone.

Holly turned and narrowed her eyes at Thorin. "And here you are making ill-supported assumptions as well."

Thorin stared back. "How could a woman possibly prove herself worthy enough to survive this quest?"

Holly's fingers twitched. Perhaps she would show him. That would shut him up.

"There will be time for that later," Gandalf said. "Her addition to the company is more than a matter of whether or not she can survive."

"Excuse me." Everyone turned to the hobbit. He stared at the contract in his hands in disbelief. "Sorry, but, uh, it says here…" Blue eyes scanned the contract. "Um, present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations…" He glanced up at the group, attempting to sound out, "E-vi-sce-ra-tion…." His expression turned incredulous as he read aloud, "Incineration."

He must be new to this whole 'violence' concept, Holly mused.

"There-There must be some sort of mistake."

"Oh no, laddie. Smaug'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye," Bofur said.

"Oh. Huh," Bilbo huffed, swaying on the spot a little.

"Y'alright, laddie?" Balin asked.

"Y-Yeah, no, I feel a bit faint."

"Just think furnace with wings!" Bofur said, swaying a bit. Clearly he'd had too much ale.

"Air. I-I-I need air." Bilbo leaned over and put his hands on his knees.

"Flashing light, searing pain, then—poof! you're nothing more than a pile of ash!"

"Hm." Bilbo seemed to be digesting this information, eyes a bit unfocused. "Nope."

And the hobbit collapsed, out cold.

Holly snatched up contract with a contemptuous twist of her lips and began skimming through it.

"Right, then. Anyone have a quill?"

Thorin stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "Clearly you do not understand the dangers this mission will involve. You are hardly qualified to travel with us."

If she confronted him head on, he would refuse to listen to her argument to save face in front of his kin. But if she appealed to a figure with more authority…

Ignoring the chagrin she felt at doing so, Holly turned to Gandalf, eyebrows raised. The wizard seemed to understand and fixed Thorin with a pointed stare.

"You must trust me on this."

Thorin turned back to Holly. "By traveling with us, you will be putting yourself at risk."

She fought back a smirk. "Obviously."

"And if you prove to be a hindrance, we will leave you behind."

"Fair enough." Holly didn't expect any of the dwarves to coddle her. That would only prove to be annoying, and a hindrance to herself. Ori handed her a quill and she signed her name at the bottom.

Holly took a moment to study her spiky handwriting. She hadn't even bothered to read the whole contract. She had little idea what she had actually signed up for. Perhaps she had bitten off more than she could chew.

Holly dismissed the thought and set the contract down on the table. Regardless of the outcome, she was part of this Company now. And before she could focus on the life-changing aspects of the journey, she would have to survive a group of rowdy, ignorant, overly-optimistic dwarves.

She pressed her lips together. Perhaps she had bitten off more than she could chew.

…..

After the meeting (and impromptu fainting) the dwarves dispersed throughout Bag End once more.

Holly picked up her book and went find Gandalf. She had questions that the wizard needed to answer, seeing as the meeting had left her more confused than before.

She heard the wizard's voice in one of the sitting rooms. As she approached the entrance, she could also hear Bilbo's voice.

"I'm sorry, Gandalf. I can't sign this. You've got the wrong hobbit." He brushed past Holly and padded down the hallway towards his bedroom. She spared a brief glance at his retreating figure and walked into the room.

"Ah, Holly. How can I help you?" Gandalf said, stooped over a little due to the low ceiling.

"You can start by explaining why you want me to go on a quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain."

"Ah. I see. All your questions will be answered in due time. For now, try to enjoy yourself while you can. Make friends with the company. You will most likely need them as allies in the future."

"Oh, please. You're not my mother, for Eru's sake." Holly sighed. "I suppose I won't miss anything if I leave now?"

"Actually, I would appreciate it if you would talk to Bilbo. Try to convince him to sign the contract. I do think this adventure will do more good than he knows."

That might prove to be interesting, if nothing else. "All right. I'll do what I can."

Bilbo sat down onto his bed and sighed. An adventure! And dwarves, in his own home! He'd been expecting a quiet, untroubled night, like every other night he'd had since… forever, it seemed.

Every night, he had the same routine.

That was true for the rest of his day, too. Except for Sundays, when he walked to the market. And he always made sure to sweep the chimneys on Trewsdays—

"Mind if I come in?"

He looked up as a slight figure appeared in his doorway. It was the woman from before…Holly, was it? She was rather short, for a human. Her features were sharp and angular, in an almost unattractive fashion, and were framed by dark, curly hair. Her vibrant cerulean eyes seemed to be taking everything in at once.

"Can I help you?" Bilbo asked with a sigh.

Holly sat down in the chair across from his bed, fixing him with an analytical stare. "Gandalf wants me to persuade you to sign the contract."

Bilbo frowned. "Well…don't trouble yourself. I've already made up my mind, so you don't have to—"

"That's all right. I enjoy a challenge." Holly sat back and smirked.

"Um…all right, then."

"So, I suppose you feel quite comfortable in your home, here in the Shire."

Bilbo nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

Holly examined the room with a slight smile. "It's a nice place."

"Thank you."

"Did you do it yourself?"

"Listen, I don't mean to be rude, but why are you…here?"

"Gandalf invited me."

"No, I mean, why are you going on an adventure with a group of strangers?" Bilbo didn't point it out, but it was also unusual for women to go on any sort of dangerous quest.

Holly shrugged. "Why aren't you? What's stopping you from going to see Erebor? Just imagine getting to see one of the greatest dwarf kingdoms in Middle Earth, one of the most economically advanced civilizations…"

"But there's a dragon living inside Erebor."

"True. But it's really more about the journey, not the destination, isn't it?" She shifted forward in her seat, eyes gleaming. "When was the last time you camped out under the stars? Listened to the sounds of insects in the night? Took even a small risk?"

Bilbo didn't see Holly's lips twitch. He was engrossed in memories of running about the Shire in his younger days, exploring and pretending to meet elves.

Somewhere in his house, the dwarves were singing another song, this one low, haunting, and strangely moving.

"Have you ever seen the Misty Mountains? It's a long row of snowy peaks, and just seeing it makes you feel so alive. And I bet you've never been to Rivendell. It's the elven realm near the Misty Mountains. Probably the most magical place I've ever been to. There are glowing waterfalls, trees with leaves of orange, emerald and gold, and the architecture—all arches and broad, pristine buildings…"

The hobbit felt a strange exhilaration as something Tookish awoke inside of him. I must be mad, Bilbo thought as he stared out of his bedroom window. Yet, he couldn't stop thinking about the prospect of going on a journey, an actual adventure.

"I'll leave you to think about it," Holly said, rising from the chair and leaving the bedroom.

An...adventure. What would it be like, to wear a sword instead of a walking stick and climb mountains instead of writing poetry?

Outside his window, Bilbo watched one of his neighbors light a lantern. The flame glowed like the furnace of a dragon's maw, ready to swallow him in white-hot death. And just like that, he was Bilbo Baggins again, the respectable bachelor who had no interest in adventures, or quests, or anything of the sort.

Adventure, indeed! Bilbo shook his head to rid it of such fanciful thoughts. He was a plain fellow with no need for leaving his home for months on end. With that, the hobbit stood and shut his bedroom door.

Through his window, the stars winked like gemstones, encompassing the quiet land below in a gentle, inviting glow.

Disclaimer: It ain't mine.

Now that that's out of the way, welcome to my fic! I made some major changes as of 8/16/15, so if you've read the chapter before then and are confused, hopefully this note clears things up.

Feel free to leave a comment or a follow, it helps me out a lot!