I do not own the Hobbit

She didn't know why looking in the mirror made her feel so out of place or why she felt that she should be much taller even though she was already the tallest hobbit in generations. She never told anyone about the weird visions she saw either, people already thought her strange and if her brother wasn't such a respectable hobbit she was sure she would be the town pariah not including that strangeness.

So with everything that made her different she always tried very hard to emulate her brother and parents, trying to show everyone that she could also be respectable.

At least she had until the fell winter, the year their parents died. She had grown used to casting her visions aside so when the warning headache approached she did not let it pull her in, she had been steadfastly ignoring her visions for many years now, but this would be the first vision she absolutely regretted not adhering to. Because she chose to disregard the message of the Valar, her parents, along with ten other Hobbits were killed by the wolves that had invaded the shire.

She could still hear the screams years later as she lay in her bed trying to sleep. They would haunt her for a long time.

As she watched her parents be lowered into the ground, eyes wet with tears, she decided she would not ignore her visions again, this was the will of the Valar and although people would criticize her she would be resolute. She would not bend in this decision.

It was like a flood gate had opened; when she stopped fighting the visions they became more pronounced, evolving as she aged out of her adolescence. It started small, with feelings about things they should or shouldn't do, like forcing Bilbo to exercise with her and practice swordplay as well as archery.

(Bilbo was quite good with the man sized dagger she had won off of a ranger in a poker game at the Prancing Pony, even if she was absolutely pants at it.)

She also felt strong urges to always have excess amounts of food stocked in the pantry, (So much that they were forced to expand their smial.) She had also taken up making all kinds of outfits for the two of them, when she went to the market she would buy leathers, heavy wools, furs, and sturdy fabric so she could make pants, vests, coats, and even traveling packs.

Throughout the years her brother would just sigh mournfully at the leisure time he could be spending with her precious pipe weed, even if he hadn't fought her after the first month of her dragging him around.

It happened quite suddenly one day during the Fall Harvest, she felt the overwhelming need to pack her things and leave the shire. She put it off for a few weeks until she couldn't ignore the feeling anymore. She packed all the things that jumped out to her senses, food, clothing, weapons (her best was a double bladed triangular shaped knife on a chain that she would throw from a distance and pull back to herself along with a bow) and a few blank books to record her travels for her brother. Bilbo was a writer but she was an artist, the talent had bloomed one day like her other gifts; sometimes she would just feel an itch in her hand and what she drew was always a warning of danger so far, it could be avoided but not always.

She had waited until the last possible moment to tell Bilbo of her plans, she knew he would either try to stop her or try to join her and she knew that he was not to leave the shire yet, although she must go. As she was leaving she turned back to her brother, his blond curls shining in the sun made even his scowling face look adorable.

"Bilbo, if you ever have the pleasure of meeting a wizard on an adventure, you should know that you will need to cook everything in the pantry for supper, I have a feeling he will be very hungry."

Even as used to his sisters weird predictions as he was Bilbo still felt an incredulous look distort his face. "The whole pantry!?" He shouted to her as she skipped away joyously. "Even the biscuits Bilbo!" Asphodel's tinkling laughter reached him as she finally breached the trees, the dark limbs seeming to swallow her form whole.

Shaking his head Bilbo made his way back to his Smial, for once in his life he made the trip alone and it made him feel off-kilter. Entering through the green door he saw a note written in his sisters flowing script. Nervously, (with Asp one never knew) he lifted the paper up to read.

Dearest Brother,

By now I've left and you're no doubt excited to be able to relax for once and enjoy some good pipe weed in the garden, probably already planning on sitting on the garden bench until dinnertime. Well, I am happy to dislodge you from this fantasy. I have taken all of your pipe fillings and instructed the merchant not to give you any under the pain of a very humiliating yet gruesome death; HOWEVER, I have also left a supply of it with the Gamgees to give you once you have completed your daily training. Yes, you are quite welcome for my interference; I can already feel your excitement for this new routine. Do no worry for me Bilbo, we shall see each other again, just remember to practice and be patient little brother.

Love Asphodel Baggins.

P.S. I was quite serious about the food for the wizard.

P.P.S. Don't forget the biscuits Bilbo.

The letter was completely ridiculous thought Bilbo even as he chuckled through his tears. He was a bit miffed about what she did to his pipe weed though, even if she was right about what he was going to do with it. Drying his face he got to work, he needed a relaxing smoke after all.

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6 Years Later

Bilbo Baggins was an odd hobbit they would all say. Even after his strange sister had left the shire he had done all the things she would make him do. Such weird un-hobbit like things! He was at least respectable enough to take his elevansies with company and smoke his pipe in his bustling garden, but he would also play around with swords and go on long walks like a fauntling!

It was almost scandalous of him they would whisper when he passed by. Currently, Bilbo was enjoying his hard earned smoke on his garden bench with his eyes closed.

Until he was interrupted -rudely- by a throat clearing. Opening his eyes Bilbo studied the grey figure in question. "Good morning?" He asked hesitantly when the old man didn't say anything.

"What do you mean?" he said. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"

"All of them at once," said Bilbo. "And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain.

"Can I help you?" Bilbo tried not to sound too unsure in his tone.

"It remains to be seen. I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure." The old voice was low and even.

"An adventure? No, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree, would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner!"

Bilbo gets up to collect his mail from his mailbox and awkwardly backs away
"Good morning!" He calls and turns to walk away.

"To think that I should have lived to be good- morninged by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!" The stranger called out as he was walking away causing him to stop in surprise.

"Beg your pardon?" His voice was loud.

"You've changed, and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins."

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Bilbo was getting a little upset honestly, who did this man think he was?

" Well you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it. I'm Gandalf, and Gandalf means…me!" The wizard smiled genially.

"Gandalf? Not Gandalf, the wandering wizard who made such excellent fireworks? Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve! Well! I had no idea you were still in business." He let his sentence end rather rudely.

" And where else should I be?" Oh yes he did sound annoyed now.

" Well…" Somewhere away from him would be nice…

"Well, I'm pleased to find you remember something about me, even if it's only my fireworks." The man grumbled petulantly before nodding to himself.

"Well that's decided. It'll be very good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others." He turned as if to leave.

" Inform the who…? What…?! No! No! No, wait." Jogging over to his gate Bilbo waived his pipe around to show his point.

"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." Turning decisively Bilbo closed his freshly painted door firmly.

Inside the smial Bilbo leaned against his front door heavily a moment before sighing and opening the drawer next to the window.

Pulling out the faded letter he gave a small smile at the message. Don't forget the biscuits huh? Putting the letter back in its place, Bilbo got ready to cook like his life depended on it, throughout the day he made everything in his vast pantry, including 7 types of biscuits.

It had already reached dark by the time he was finished, he just had enough time to change his clothers into something more comfortable when someone knocked loudly on his door. Trying to withhold another sigh he strode to the entrance hall reluctantly.

Even though Asp had warned him to expect company in her own strange way he was NOT prepared to come face to chest with a large dwarf covered in tattoos.

"Dwalin, at your service." Coming out of his surprise Bilbo bowed a little.

"Bilbo Baggins at yours." Taking a step to the side he let the Dwarf into his home.

"I- uh, made some dinner, do you know how many are coming? We could gather some chairs…" He let his sentence trail off as the fellow just kept staring at the food he had made.

"Is something wrong?" He hoped his voice didn't sound as nervous as he felt. Dwalin seemed to realize he was still there and grunted '13' at him. Just giving a nod Bilbo went to the spare room and started bringing out the extra chairs, counting out 13 and another for himself he took a seat by the front door, ready to answer when the time came.

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Let me know what you think, should I continue?