So yeah, here I go again. I'm currently writing one Hobbit story, but the idea of this came into my mind and I couldn't make it go away. The idea was interesting and I hope I'll do it justice by writing it down. At first I wasn't sure about writing two stories simultaneously, but this morning I woke up and couldn't think of anyhting else, before I wrote this down. Took me good four hours, but I'm quite satisfied with the result. And I thought, what the hell-if I can write one, I could probably write two, right? :) Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Diclaimer: If you recognize anything, I don't own it.


I

As the dwarves vere busy removing their bags from the ponies, grumbling to themselves about untrustworthy wizards and over-possesive skin-changers, Bilbo stood a few feet away clutching his small bag of things in his hands tightly. He felt his ears go red when he heard the epithets Dwalin was dedicating to Gandalf. Bifur was mumbling something in Khuzdul, and if Dwalin's nods of agreement were any indication, the hobbit was sure he was describing the wizard in a very unfalttering way. While not being fond of such explicit swearing, he quietly agreed with others and cursed Gandalf inwardly for leaving them to get through Mirkwood on their own.

The dwarves were friendly enough, but still the hobbit felt safer with the wizard around. Who knew what might possess those rock hard skulls of theirs? Absent-mindedly Bilbo wondered if the food Beorn had given them would be enough. And what would they do when they ran out of food? He doubted that there were many edible things in a dark forest like this, and if the situation called for this, they would probably eat him first. He had lost some of his weight, but was still far away from being skinny. The hobbit shook his head. Oh, come on, Baggins, they're no trolls! Stop being ridiculous and go make yourself useful!

He was about to go and do just that when a sight of Dwalin sharpening his axe caught his eye. The hobbit gulped loudly and stopped in his tracks. Perhaps it would be better to stay just here. Where the wizard was still close. He wasn't that useful with unpacking anyways.

„Bilbo!" He jumped slightly at the sound of Gandalf's voice unexpectedly close. It should have been comforting, but it wasn't. The bastard was leaving him with thirteen very hungry and very dexterous dwarves. It probably wouldn't take them much time to plate him. Not with Bombur being so very skilled in the kitchen. He mentally smacked himself on the forehead. Bilbo, you're clearly starting to lose your mind. He shook his head again and turned to Gandalf.

„Yes?"

„Can I have a little chat with you before I leave?"

„Um, sure, I suppose."

„I've said this many times already, but I doubt any of our friends there," he motioned with his head towards the still grumbling dwarves, „take these threats very seriously. It is your job to make sure they are safe. It will be up to you to keep them on the path. Whatever it takes." And how exactly was he supposed to do that? He doubted there would be anything he could do if Fili and Kili suddenly decided to go and check out what was happening in the bushes. Was he supposed to tie them together in a row like he had seen hobbit mothers tie their babes when going for longer walks? Oh, yes, he could just picture the joy and excitement on Thorin's face when he proposed to look after them like a mother hobbit. Dwalin would probably even give him a hug. The last one in his life.

„Bilbo, are you listening to me?" Gandalf's voice sounded a little annoyed.

„Yes, I, um, just thinking. How am I supposed to keep this lot in control? It's not like they're listening to me or anything." Bilbo hoped that the wizard would see his point and let him be.

„My dear hobbit, I believe you are capable of more than you give yourself credit for. You stood alone against a pack of orcs. I think you can handle a little bunch of dwarves." He offered with a smile. Bilbo was about to scoff and make a retort, but Gandalf didn't allow him. „Now, listen, I don't have much time left, I have to leave soon. Just remember that there is no way of knowing what will cross your path in Mirkwood. The forest is enchanted and it is living its' own life and does whatever it wishes to those who choose to enter it. Keep on the path, I beg of you. Many stories have I heard of the things happening to those who leave the path even for a few steps. Some stories are scary, some are almost unbelievable and some are quite amusing, really. But mostly they are tales of horror, so I advise you to be smart. Mirkwood possesses magic that even I am not familiar with." Bilbo was about to ask Gandalf to elaborate exactly what horrors had happened there. But the wizard had already gone to say his goodbyes to the dwarves. Well, maybe it was for the best if he didn't know. As of now he wasn't sure himself that he wouldn't curse everything and run after the ponies that had just taken off. Such stories would probably just give him a push to do that. With a sight he threw a glance at the forest, and wondered what amusing story could Gandalf had possibly heard. Mirkwood seemed anything but amusing to him.


Thorin finally decided it was time for them to stop. They had been walking for hours and it was so dark that they kept bumping into each other all the time. And after Kili almost managed to knock Thorin off his feet he had finally given up on the idea of them covering a longer distance today.

Bilbo knew Thorin well enough to decipher the look on his face. The bastard would definitely wake them up earlier tomorrow. It was easier for him, walking in the front, not having to bump into anybody. Bilbo had managed to walk straight into Dwalin's back on several occasions and he was positive that the dwarf was not loving him. At all. The hobbit was probably soon going to be on his black list amongst Gandalf and Beorn.

With a sigh Bilbo took his pack off his sore shoulders and made an attempt to stretch. He could feel every single muscle in his body ache and realised with bitterness that there would be no way he could get enough sleep this night. Or any other night that he would have to spend in this horrible place. During the day he could almost feel the forest watching him, as if planning what to do to him. He knew the others were probably feeling likewise, but being dwarves with their thick skin and heavy muscles they definitely didn't worry that much. Fili and Kili had even made an attempt to lighten the mood by starting a song, a very enthusiastic Bofur joining in, until Thorin had silenced them with one of his glares. Bilbo had been grateful for the distraction in form of a cheerful song, but that grumpy old sod just had to butt in and ruin it. It wasn't their fault that he was impossible not to annoy. Bilbo had sworn quietly under his nose and kept on walking. A snicker from Bofur indicated that he had heard Bilbo. The hobbit threw an apologetic look at the dwarf who smiled widely in return. They had spent the rest of the day in silence.

Oin and Gloin were about to get the fire going, but Thorin stopped them.

„We do not know what lives in these trees. The fire will probably just get us more attention." While his reasoning was logical and seemed wise, Bilbo still felt annoyed. Not only was he supposed to sleep in this dark and gloomy place, the promising comfort and warmth of a fire was also forbidden. He huffed and pouted, feeling like a hobbit babe that had been denied candy before dinner.

They ate quickly in silence and there was no talking in the camp as everybody got ready for sleep. Bilbo was still pouting by the time he rested his head on his bag that he was using as a pillow. Sleep came surprisingly easy to him that night.


The hobbit woke early the next morning. He felt rested enough to get up. The others seemed to be asleep. Apart from Thorin, of course, Bilbo noted with annoyance. The dwarf was leaning against a tree, his sharp eyes watching their surroundings. Did he ever sleep? Hoping to avoid any conversation with him, the hobbit quietly started assembling his belongings and packing his bag back together. He felt Thorin watching him, but made no attempt to aknowledge that. He was still annoyed with the dwarf for ruining his mood the previous day.

Few very short moments later his bag was all packed and he weigthed his options on whether to have breakfast now or wait for the rest of their company. He decided on the latter, doubting that he would be able to swallow anything with Thorin watching him. Oh, Bilbo was sure he would be watching; their provisions were limited and the dwarf wouldn't risk his kin staying hungry on behalf of one small, yet insatiable hobbit.

Bilbo decided then that he would just walk around a little bit and check out their surroundings. It had been too dark last night for him to see anything. He wasn't sure it was the best idea, since the forest seemed menacing and evil, but the idea of having to make small talk with Thorin scared him even more. As long as he didn't leave the path too far behind he should be fine.

Still ignoring the dwarf watching him, the hobbit stood up and made his way towards the trees. There wasn't much more light than there had been last night, but it was enough for him to at least see what he was looking at. The trees seemed foreign and unknown to the hobbit, and being a creature that was raised to appreciate all green and living, he felt an incredible pull to see what else new was hidden here. In reasonable proximity from the path, of course.

Just as he was about to take his first step off the path a low hiss stopped him. „Where do you think you're going?" Bilbo spun around to see Thorin, who had stood up from his place and taken a few steps towards the hobbit.

„Nowhere. I was just curious of our surroundings, that's all." He replied, looking Thorin in the eye, trying no to show that he was afraid. And annoyed. Who did Thorin think he was, controlling Bilbo like that. He was a grown-up hobbit and knew what he was doing.

„Both Beorn and Gandalf told us to keep on the path. Or do you think yourself smarter than them, sneaking off like that?" Thorin asked with a smirk. Bilbo hadn't realised that his smirks were as annoying as his glares were scary. Master of facial expressions, was he?

„I know what they said, thank you very much for reminding me." The hobbit answered, trying to make the sarcasm in his voice as clear as he could. „But nothing bad should happen if I take just a few steps to look around." He wasn't sure that he even wanted to look anymore, but somehow stepping back felt like surrender. And he would not surrender to that smug bastard that their leader was. No, he would not. „Maybe you would prefer it if I tied a rope around myself and let you hold the other end?" Bilbo asked with a raised eyebrow. Who was the smug bastard now?

Thorin looked unimpressed and shot him another smirk. „Feel free to do whatever you want." He said and turned his back to Bilbo, obviously about to make his way back to his previous spot.

„Fine." The hobbit muttered under his breath and took a step off the path. By now his desire to look around was long gone, but he didn't want to step down. Dwarves were known to be stubborn, yes, but damn it, Bilbo Baggins could be stubborn, too. He stomped off without really seeing what was around him or even looking back to see how far he'd gone. Only when he felt a hand on his shoulder did he stop, too scared to make a sound.

He turned around to came face to face with Thorin. „Are you completely out of your mind, burglar?"

„I thought you told me to do whatever I want." Bilbo spat, he was still annoyed and didn't want Thorin to see that he had startled him.

„Yes, but I didn't think you'd be stupid enough to do so." Thorin spat back and grabbed Bilbo by the hand. „We're going back, now." And without a warning he started pulling the hobbit back towards the path. Muttering under his breath something about dumb little creatures and reckless hobbits, he didn't expect the hand to be yanked out of his grasp. The dwarf spun around to look at the hobbit who had stopped dead in his tracks, obviously trying to make a point.

„Come on now, don't make me carry you back, because I swear to Mahal, I'll do it."

Bilbo felt his eyes narrow. „You wouldn't." He said looking at the dwarf suspiciously. If he knew anything about Thorin and the majestic levels of his stubborness, the hobbit was sure in just a moment he would be slung across Thorin's shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

And he was right since the dwarf moved forward to get a grip of Bilbo. The hobbit moved just in time and made an attempt to flee, but his big feet chose that exact moment to forget how to walk properly and he felt himself about to fall face first into a pile of old, rotting leaves. Just great, he thought, just what I needed to prove Thorin wrong. He wasn't prepared to feel hands on his waist, trying to catch and steady him, so his initial reaction was to push them away. Instead of arms he managed to push Thorin in the chest. The dwarf, on his end, wasn't expecting to be pushed away, so he lost his balance and stumbled backwards. He managed not to fall and felt his back collide with a trunk of a tree. The hobbit then collided right into Thorin.

„What the hell?" They cried in unison, trying to get untangled from each other. It turned out to be harder that expected since one of Thorin's braids ended up stuck on one of Bilbo's buttons. The hobbit tried to carefully pry the braid free only to have his hands smacked away.

„Hey, just don't rip the..." He started just as Thorins fingers clasped around the braid and prepared to pull. A quick moment later the braid was free and Bilbo's shirt was missing one more button. „..button. Thank you for that." The hobbit added with a sigh.

„You're welcome." Thorin answered with a scowl. So, he was also the king of sarcasm now?

Bilbo was still leaning against Thorin and made an attempt to get away. The dwarf gladly assisted him and only when they were both standing upright did they notice some weird golden glow around them. They both looked up to see that some kind of weird mist that seemed to be slowly falling from the tree Thorin had been leaning on. Apparently the impact from the dwarf colliding into it had made the leaves shake and the golden flour-like substance to fall down.

Both looked at each other with surprise, not realising what was going on. Instinctively Bilbo took a hold of Thorin's hand since it provided him some comfort. They kept looking at each other, feeling that the world was slipping away from them until everything went into darkness. The last thing they saw where each other's eyes, a golden curtain of mist the only thing between them.


Bilbo awoke to the sound of his name being called somewhere nearby. He tried opening his eyes, but abandoned the idea immediately since he was afraid his head would split in half. Meanwhile the voices kept calling his name along with one other.

„Thorin!"

„Bilbo! Come on now, wake up!"

The hobbit made an attempt to answer, but nothing more than a muffled mumble left his tongue.

„What was that?"

„Uncle, are you alright?"

„Bilbo! Come on, lad, don't keep us worried!"

„Thorin!" The voices were starting to bug him now. If they could just shut up and let him take his time to gather his brains together. Damn those rude dwarves!

He made another attempt of speaking, this time to tell the dwarves to lay off.

„Would... youmpff.. shut up..." His voice was nothing more than a whisper and it didn't sound right. It sounded as though he'd woken up from a long sleep. With a cold.

He felt a grip on his arm, obviously trying to shake him awake.

„Oh, I wouldn't do that, brother, he might punch you in the face." When had he ever punched anyone? His brain cooperated surprisingly quickly and handed him a memory of himself slapping an annoying relative accross the face when the latter had insulted Bilbo's skills at conkers. But that was a mere slap, not a punch. And he had only done that because he had had a pint of mead in him.

Was this it? Was he just drunk off his ass and experiencing the worst hangover ever?

„THORIN!"

Whas something wrong with him, too? Had they gotten drunk together? The others seemed to be fine and very much awake judging by the noises around him that hadn't stopped for a second. He even heard Bifur's Khuzdul somewhere near his head. So, was it just him and Thorin then? Maybe they got carried away at Beorn's? Yeah, like that would ever happen. He could hardly imagine Thorin drunk, let alone drinking with him, Bilbo.

„Come on now, lads! Enough lying around!"

„Master Baggins!"

„Thorin!"

Someone was tugging at his arm again and Bilbo felt like he should perhaps punch someone after all. Mumbling something about rude dwarves he tried opening his eyes again, this time doing it slower. It appeared to be quite dark, but even the dim light was hurting his eyes as though he was looking at the sun directly. He cursed quietly in his mind and raised a hand to provide some shade. The movement felt foreign, the arm felt heavier and somehow unfamiliar. Well, that must be some mead Beorn is brewing. It was probably nothing for a giant like him, but for Bilbo's little hobbit body that was clearly more than enough.

As his hand came into his vision it didn't look like his usual little hobbit hand. So obviously his vision was impaired as well. Great. He blinked to clear his eyes and looked at the hand again. No, it was most definitely not his. He then decided it was time for him to get nervous. With a groan Bilbo made an attempt to sit up.


Any ideas on what happened to these two? :) And if your ideas turn out to be true, is this something you would like to see continued?