This was an OLD fic I wrote that turned out surprisingly good when I re-read it. THis one won't have as regular updates as Together or Not at All.

Ch.1

In the Blue Mountains:

"Hobbits are fat, notoriously lazy creatures not worth mentioning in this book."

Dwalin raised one bushy eyebrow in disbelief, snatching the book Kili was reading from and looking at it for himself, "Come on laddie, does it really say that?" He read the line, chuckling.
Kili, tired from a long day of researching, grabbed the book back from Dwalin's hands and said, "Well, this is called The Best History Book Ever Written."

His brother, Fili, huffed and tucked his own book back in the sparsely stocked shelf it came from, "Some dwarves can be so stuck-up." His book, with nothing to lean against, fell over.

"Says you," Kili laughed, clocking his older sibling over the head, a common form of affection between the two. Fili gave him his customary warning glare that promised a thrashing if Kili touched him again. "Anyways, we're not learning much here are we?" Kili continued. The young dwarf had started the research sitting up against a shelf, but had gradually moved down until he was laying flat on the floor holding the book open over his head.

Thrusting some neatly-stacked books to the side, Dwalin joined Kili on the floor, albeit a little more stiffly, "Kili's right, this whole thing's been rather useless"

"Was not!" Fili insisted as he dusted off the book Dwalin had abandoned, "My book was much more informative."

Dwalin ignored him and began to look around the numerous shelves from his position on the floor, "I never thought I'd be in a library again. Erebor had quite a big one I remember, Balin used to drag me in and force me to read."

"Balin used to be able to drag you?" Kili said, trying to imagine the thick, muscular Dwalin being dragged down halls by the shorter and somewhat-less-impressive Balin.

"Only for a few years," Dwalin assured him. A silence settled over them until a crash and startled yell a few isles over alerted them to another dwarf who had found the library challenging.

Fili snorted in his big, superior brother way, "Let's not get off topic, alright?"

Kili nodded, paused, and then asked, "Which was?"

Fili rolled his eyes, which he did a lot around Kili, "You remember Kili. Hobbits."

"Oh, yeah."

"So we found only three books on the subject, and two of them had the exact same entries." Fili went over while organizing the three books alphabetically in their shelf. They immediately fell over again. "Well, at least we learned something,"

"Yeah," Kili said, shifting so he could lean back on one of the rarely used cushions scattered around the room, "I learned that books are more boring than I remember."

Dwalin furrowed his brow, "Hobbits don't sound anything like burglars."

"After all," Kili joked, "they aren't good enough for The Best History Book Ever Written," He held up the book and shook it while grinning at Fili, who simply rolled his eyes. His mother was always telling him that if he rolled his eyes at every ridiculous thing Kili did they were going to get stuck at the back of his head.

Trying to be serious, Fili rescued the book from Kili, "This book is not accurate in any way and the author probably died by falling down his own stairs."

"Despite all the stupidity, what it said was kind of what all the other books said," Dwalin reminded him.

Fili sighed, "You're right, whatever they're like, Hobbits don't sound like burglars suitable enough to go on our quest. Are you sure that you heard right Kili?"

Hearing his name, Kili looked up and nodded, "My eavesdropping skills are as good as ever. In the meeting, Gandalf said that he had chosen a Hobbit of the Shire to be our fourteenth companion. Then again, maybe Gandalf's gone mad? He always looked a bit loopy to me."

"Nah," Dwalin shook his head, "Thorin wouldn't be putting so much trust in him if he was crazy."

"Birds of the feather," Kili muttered, dodging Fili's fist.

Dwalin huffed, tired of their arguing and frustrated that they had found nothing, and stood up, "Well if it's not too much trouble, I am going to finish some important matters that need to be taken care of."

Kili watched as the older dwarf left, "Probably only came so we wouldn't destroy the library. Why do we need a fourteenth person anyways?"

"You wouldn't leave with just thirteen!" Fili said, shocked.

"Why not?" Kili asked, hugging a cushion to his chest, "It's just a number, no one really believes in that stuff anymore."

"Just a number!" Fili shook his head in disbelief, "It's the most unlucky number of all! Surely you know that? Prince Duclain of the Iron Hills left with thirteen and they were all eaten by wargs in the forests."

Kili shrugged, "I just don't get why that matters. And if it does, why did Thorin let Gandalf choose anyway? We could have brought Gimli."

"I think he insisted. Uncle Thorin hasn't told me much yet; he said to wait until we're at the burglar's house."

Kili understood, Thorin rarely let his plans out in the open, and they trusted him enough to go along with what he asked of them. He was the King, after all.

Both brothers left the library, arms on each other's shoulders, talking enthusiastically about the adventure before them, not yet realizing that their adventure would start much sooner than they thought.
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The Shire:

In a house on a hill, there lived a Hobbit. This particular Hobbit was nothing special; he had furry feat, a full head of brown curls, and friendly brown eyes. His house was unlike other Hobbit's because while other Hobbits usually lived in holes in the sides of the hills that spotted the Shire, this Hobbit lived in a huge house on top of one of those hills. This Hobbit's name was Bilbo Baggins and he lived in this house with his gardener, Hamfast. Well, Hamfast and some others that really don't need to be mentioned just quite yet in this part of the story.
Something was wrong with the Shire, something had been wrong for quite a long time. It didn't really look wrong from the outside, and it didn't even seem wrong in some parts of the inside. But it smelled wrong and felt wrong and even sounded wrong in some places. Although Bilbo wasn't terribly concerned since this wrongness didn't really affect him, but he did try to help out every now and then. It made him feel better about living right next to the wrongness but not being touched. His efforts were appreciated somewhat by the hobbits smothered in the wrongness. That made him happy. He didn't like seeing, or smelling, or feeling wrong in any way.

Besides all the wrong, life was going pretty good for him on that house on a hill, high above the holes and rickety shelters that reeked of wrongness. His gardener kept him company and the house was incredibly comfortable. He ate good food and socialized with other people who weren't touched by the Wrong (most of those people didn't even try to help; this also made him feel better.) Everything was fine, but every story has the beginning where everything is fine. And then they have that unfine moment where everything goes wrong. Bilbo's unfine event was the appearance of a wizard in a grey cloak and pointy hat. The wizard appeared one chance morning at his doorstep and Bilbo did not understand because the wizard seemed completely unfazed by the wrongness around him.

"Would you like to share in an adventure?"

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