This story will be in 1st person, and takes place in the beginning of The Hobbit. It's not a love story but if it does well I will make a sequel for it that will be. Haven't decided on a love story with who though. Please review/fav/follow! All constructive criticism is welcomed! Also all copy-rights of story and characters of the hobbit belong to J.R.R Tolkein and Peter Jackson, yadda yadda yadda. Any characters I happen to make up a long the way do belong to me however. Please enjoy!

CHAPTER 1: The Wizard

The shire was a pretty place, filled with an array of flowers and rolling hills of sweet grass. It's inhabitants a quiet and simple folk who enjoyed their homely lifestyle very much, were pleasant and welcoming people. So long as you weren't loud, disruptive, and most of all adventurous! Heavens no! What an awful thing to be!

The best and most respected hobbits were the Baggins of course! They were wealthy and well off, the eldest being handsome and simple Bilbo Baggins, and his twin sister...Ginger Baggins, who was not as simple and quite frankly not at all quiet for a Baggins and stood out from all the rest.

Ginger's hair was a soft glossy color of golden wheat that splayed wildly all about the place in messy curls and waves. No scarf or tie could hold it in place, much to Bella donna Took's dismay. Her cheeks were a lovely pink that added a nice highlight to her bright blue-green eyes. In all way's Ginger was dainty, making her the fairest of all the hobbits. That was of course, if she had been merely passing by.

For as soon as Ginger opened her mouth to speak, she spoke openly, and plainly. Never minding to be polite or dance around the social standards. Ginger was also a curious chatterbox, and unappealingly adventurous. It was Ginger's Tookish personality that often drove suitors away, for they sought out a quiet, pleasant wife.

"Good!" Ginger would huff, stomping away. After all, she had no time for marriage, there was so much to see and so much to do! Why on Earth would she want to whittle away and be restricted to this small place when there were lands beyond?

Ginger yearned for freedom, to discover new things and travel all around Middle Earth. But alas, she had been born a girl with no say in what she do. Her brother Bilbo, was at constant wit's end trying to reel her in. He loved her of course, he simply wished for her to settle down safely in the Shire. She was an excellent cook, a speedy cleaner, and tended all of her gardens with ease, her hold over the family inventory was superb. Bilbo saw all the qualities of an excellent and promising wife. It was simply that Ginger herself refused to be one.

"Ginger! There shall be a Summer festival coming next month," Bilbo inquired from his bench as he puffed his pipe.

"I shall have you fitted in a brand new dress!" Ginger had ceased her humming, casting an incredulous look at her brother.

"I shall go in what I have Bilbo. I don't need any dresses." Bilbo flicked his pipe, bobbing it in Ginger's direction who was brushing soil from hher apron.

"This is the perfect chance for you to get to know all the young bachelors. There are quite a lot this year, and I'm sure you will be happy with more than one."

Ginger groaned loudly, un-lady like and most certainly un-hobbit like. "Then I won't go at all if that's the only reason you wish me to go!" She snapped stubbornly, crossing her arms as she frowned.

"Do not be ridiculous sister!" Bilbo reasoned, puffing more agitatedly than before. "At least go to see some of your friends!" His sister stamped her foot,

"I don't have any friends brother!"

This was not entirely true, for Ginger had no friends of her age, being too strange and outspoken for the other she-hobbits. The majority of her friends were young hobbits. Too little to understand her oddity and still enjoyed a good romp in the garden or a splash in the pond. Bilbo opened his mouth to argue some more with his sister until a puff of smoke the shape of a butterfly landed smack dot on Bilbo's nose making him wrinkle in confusion.

Ginger glanced over, surprised to see a tall old wizard doused in all grey.

"Good morning!" Ginger beamed instantly, eyeing his spectacular wooden staff. "Yes..good morning." Bilbo said, less enthusiastically. "What do you mean?" Gandalf replied, launching into a confusing riddle of being good morning while Ginger practically sparkled in silent admiration, her mind swelling with hordes of all sorts of questions.

"Can I help you?" Bilbo asked finally, glancing around himself. He wondered if this old wizard was lost. "That remains to be seen..." The old wizard hummed, looking grim.

"I am looking on someone to share an adventure with."

Both the Baggin's jaws dropped, and for entirely different reasons. Bilbo sputtered, quickly jumping in front of his over-eager sister who shouted

"I do!" in an attempt to hush her. He raised his voice to drown out her questions such as, Where are you going?! Are there goblins?! How about elves?! Will there be elves?! Please tell me!

"Now, I don't know anybody west of Bree willing to share in on adventure with you. Adventures..." Bilbo scoffed, dragging Ginger to fetch his mail. "Nasty, dirty, uncomfortable things! Make you late for supper!" Sifting through his mail, Bilbo tilted his head up at the wizard "Good morning!"

Shoving his sister harshly up the steps to his comfortable hobbit home, Bilbo continued tuning out Ginger's objections.

"Bilbo please!" Ginger cried, stealing glances at the old man

"At least let us offer him some tea! Who knows how far he's traveled!" Bilbo ushered her and nearly had her to the front door when the old man spoke again.

"To think I would be 'good morning-ed' by Bella donna Took's son as if I were selling buttons at the door." The old wizard went on to explain that he was Gandalf the Grey, riddling it in a fascinating strange way that made Ginger smile. And though Bilbo remembered the wizard, she could not recall. That was because, to view fireworks one had to be outside.

As a child, Ginger was sickly and frail. Her mother confining her indoors to keep her from falling ill. She had missed all of the fireworks and festivals, and though she had never seen this Gandalf before she had listened wistfully to the booming and cracking of the colorful explosives.

To make up for the lack of excitement, Ginger immersed herself in stories of tall tales and whimsical adventures. Drinking in the wonderful scene of torching dragons, and beautiful elves and stout dwarves. These stories became Ginger's greatest treasure, bringing her constant joy.

Every month or so a new book arrived to her. Wrapped neatly in brown paper and string. And while the sender was unknown, they were greatly appreciated. In a flurry of rushed confusion, Ginger found herself shoved through the front door, feeling dismayed at seeing Gandalf go.

"Right then!" Bilbo gasped, turning to meet his sister. "What's for lunch?"