-It's been eighty-four years or at least it feels like it for those who have been with me since the beginning. Ok so I am complete an utter trash. I promised to do something and I completely forgot about again, but I have good excuses for it. I've had some extremely horrible personal experiences in the last few years to where I now have a really bad anxiety disorder. Anyway, for the foreseeable future, I will hopefully be working on this more and finishing it finally.

-STORY TIME. I literally own absolutely nothing except for Mary, her mother, and baby Thrain (who I have decided to leave in this story though he won't be a main character anymore). If Thorin is out of character I'm sorry, but he's difficult to write so he'll probably be out of character a little bit. I love how he is in the movie, but I feel that he would act different with her around him in some ways. This story is written as if she's telling it to someone. Some things are different in this story compared to Tolkien's work of course so tell me if you like them or not.

So, Mary is a young hobbit raised in a tiny hole under a hill only a few towns away from Hobbiton with her mother Rose (get it? Rose…Mary…Rosemary…anyway). Mary is Bilbo's closest cousin on his father's side of the family tree and she was raised as Bilbo's best friend. Mary is a beautiful half-human/half-hobbit girl with long curly red hair and bright blue eyes with tiny little ears and small human feet which she got from her father. Any who….ON WITH THE CHANGES.

-Redone: 6/5/18

P.S. – To anyone who wants to beta read or even share their ideas on where they think the story should go…I'm all ears.

Chapter One: In the beginning…

When I was young, my mother use to tell me that following my heart might one day lead me to trouble and pain and I can honestly say with all of heart that she was right. My mother was not a stranger to trouble and pain and I should have listened to her, but I hadn't and I fell into the same trap that she did. She fell in love with someone not of her people, I would later follow in her footsteps, and I would come to learn the same pain that she bore until her death. My mother had been on a trip to Bree with her father to sell some of his weapons. In a place like Hobbiton, weapons are not welcome seeing as how we hobbits are peaceful people, but my grandfather Brutus had learned the trade in one of his travels outside of our peaceful home and had brought it back with him. My grandfather was popular with the people of Bree, seeing as how they never really got to a Hobbit walking around.

Mother said that it had been a routine trip for them. Every four months they would travel together to Bree to sell his weapons to the local weapons master. Nothing should have been out of the ordinary. Just drop off the tools, get paid, and then leave and go home. Usually it only took an hour at the most because Brutus liked to get his business done fast, he didn't really care for the town of Bree because of the humans. Anyway, she used to tell me that her encounter with my father went a little something like this….

The rain was pouring in bucket loads down upon her head as she sat in the wagon waiting for her father to finish his business with weapons master Wayland. Her body shacked uncontrollably as she waited and her cold hands clutched the damp blanket around herself in a hopeless attempt to keep herself warm.

"Are you not cold siting there little lady?"

She jumped at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and peered through her drenched hair, which hung in her face, at the man that stood to her left. The man was a human, but that was of no surprise to her seeing as they were in the human town of Bree. His black hair was plastered to his forehead and reached to his shoulders just like hers, but she could still see the bright blue eyes that were peaking through. He was leaning against the wagon with his arms folded and rested on the wood in front of him. The multiple layers of clothes that he was wearing made him look three times his probably actual size and it made my mother almost want to laugh.

"Do you have a voice or do always stare at people like that?" the man asked with a hint of laughter in his voice as he leaned there against the wagon.

She continued to stare at him for a few more seconds before she looked away from him and out at the socked road in front of her and said in an irritated manner, "Of course I'm cold, but father says that I have to stay with the wagon incase someone tries to steal something."

The man gave a small laugh and said jokingly, "So the little lady does have a voice." He gave a small glance at the weapons that were still in the wagon and then whistled. "Your father's the one who makes all of these?" he asked her.

She nodded, still not looking at him, and said, "Comes here every few months to collect the orders from master Wayland and to drop the finished weapons off."

He gave a nod as if he should have known that and then said with a sigh, "So your father works with my father then."

She turned her head sharply to look at him for the first time fully acknowledging him during their conversation and asked in a confused voice, "Your father?"

He gave another small laugh and with an added smirk answered, "Aye. I don't usually come here to Bree much, but I'm glad I did this time."

"Wayland's never mentioned having a son," mother said.

The man shook his head and said with a hint of sadness in his voice, "No, I don't suppose he would. Father doesn't really care for his children and we don't really care much for him. I only come to visit my brother and sister when I can."

The rain began to slow down to a drizzle around them as they talked together, but neither of them really seemed to notice.

"I suppose you must have a name?" my mother tried to ask in a none caring way.

"I suppose I must," the man laughed. "My names Roderick. May I ask what yours is in return?"

My mother was hesitant before she finally answered, "Rose Baggins."

"Rose Baggins," Roderick said softly. "Do you always come here with your father?"

She nodded.

"Then I will have to start visiting Bree more often."

All my mother had said that she could do was blush.

It had become a ritual for them after that day that whenever she was in town he was there to meet her. According to my mother they had tried to keep their relationship as quiet and hidden as possible from grandfather Brutus seeing as how of a dislike he held for the humans. It took them four years before they finally decided that they couldn't hide anymore. My grandfather had been furious when he had found out and had forbidden my mother to return home unless she left the human, but she wouldn't. She had taken the news hard, but my father had taken in stride and was determined to make my mother happy. Father built a home in the town of Combe, which was located on the borders of Chetwood, for my mother and it would later be my home to.

Mother used to tell me that I was born in the middle of a rainstorm and that I had been a quiet baby. My father was the one who named me and he named me after his mother Mary who had died a few days after his younger sister had been born. It makes me sad to say that I was to be their only child, but it was not me who tore my parents apart.

A sickness had arrived in Combe and it had taken over half of the town including my father with it. I can still remember sitting there at his bedside as a child reading stories to him that he had once read to me. I can still feel the sweatiness of his hand as I held it tightly in my own when he coughed too hard and I can still hear the raspy voice that he had spoken with as he died in front of me. I was his "button" as he had liked to call me and I can remember him saying it often as he laid there dying. He was supposed to get better, but the medicine that the healer had said would work failed and he died while holding my hand. I remember the way that the light had left his eyes and how his hand had grown limp in mine. I hadn't screamed or cried when he died, only stared. My mother had found me sitting there and no matter how much she had screamed and cried my father was gone. That was when she had told me that one day love might lead me to trouble and pain and I wish now that I had listened.

Wow, first chapter done in forever. Like I promised, it's changed and I want to know what you think.

Should I continue this one or go back to older version?

Would you guys like me to write full the story about Mary's parents because I'm completely open to the idea if you guys are interested?

The next chapter is when the story really starts so be prepared.