A/N: I wrote this in about an hour without any proof reading or a beta, so please feel free to point out any spelling errors or messy bits.
For clarification, Elsa is my OC, Bilbo's sister (yeah, I know. Don't look at me like that) and a fellow companion on the journey. Blonde, curly hair, typical hobbit. This scene is a drabble set some point after the incident at the Carrock but before Mirkwood. The company has stopped in a cave for the night and the halflings have some family feels.
Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with J.R.R. Tolkien's work. This piece of writing is purely to satisfy my little fangirl heart and I am making no profit on it. Please don't sue me.
Bilbo was curled into Elsa's side, soaking up her warmth. She knew that if the cave had been a bit brighter or more of their companions awake he would be leaning casually against the wall several feet away; he was still trying to look brave and worthy of respect from the others, despite already having proved himself many times over. As it was brother and sister were cuddled together in the corner, just enjoying the comfort of each other. Her fingers slipped through his curls languidly and both were nearly asleep when Bilbo murmured something.
"Hmm?" Her mind tried struggled up through a lethargic fog.
"Do you remember the tree," he asked quietly.
Chuckling she muttered, "you'll have to be a bit more specific than that."
"The summer before you and Mira... When Mother was sick and Father sent us out all the time. You know, that big tree we always climbed, the... What kind was it again?" A huge yawn split the last word.
Elsa smiled fondly. "It was a maple tree." He nestled deeper into her and she continued. "Father planted it when he built Bag End for Mama." Hobbits were usually more formal when discussing families. Relatives were called by their given names no matter their age (though the younger halflings didn't take the traditions too seriously), and parents were referred to only as Mother and Father. Intimate things like endearments were kept behind closed doors. It brought Bilbo comfort, however, and she knew he wouldn't mind her saying such things. "He always said that when she accepted his proposal, he was so excited that he bought up the land and began digging their new home in the hill that very morning.
"By noon the sun was beating down on him, and he threw down his shovel in defeat. He was exhausted, hot and hungry, and he said to himself, 'what I wouldn't give for the shade of a tree this very minute.' Mama had brought him lunch and heard Father's complaint, so after a pleasant meal together of scones and tea, chicken and pickles, chips, salad, roast mutton, and rye bread she'd baked herself, she set off to Bree. She was a Took, remember, and gallivanting off for a small adventure was a common enough occurrence for her.
"After a long day's walk through fields and across streams, she arrived in Bree, that travelers' town of men and hobbits just before sunset. Mama found a shrubber's stall just as he was closing up, and bought his last sapling. It was a scrawny thing, barely three inches tall and leafless, but she saw potential in it: the same potential she saw in Father the first day they'd met.
"The journey home was long and tiring. A moonless night had fallen and more than once she stumbled. Tree roots blocked her path, creeks ran faster than ever before, and it seemed like she climbed over every fence in the Shire, but not once did she drop the sapling. Just as the sun rose that morning she trudged up the path to what would soon be Bag End. When Father came back to work he found Mama lying on the hill top, fast asleep. Her dress was torn, mud covered her from head to toe, twigs stuck out every which-way from her hair, and she was cuddling a scraggly baby tree, but Father thought she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. After he planted the tree in the back run they finished Bag End together, and married that spring.
"I guess Mama chose well, both with Father and with the tree. We played in that maple for years, and Grandmother said she'd never seen Mama so happy. Maybe it was their sign."
She smiled in memory. "You know... You're a lot like her, more than you know. You have her spark. That joy that always twinkled in her eye. She wore her heart on her sleeve just like you, and she got hurt too often. Just like you, you dolt," she murmured affectionately. When only silence greeted one eye cracked open to peek down at him. He was fast asleep and looking for all the world like a young hobbit of twenty again. Warm breath fluttered through his lips to make a light (and adorable, if she was being honest with herself) snore.
"Falling asleep at my stories, hmm? I've still got it." She chuckled quietly and leaned back, quickly joining her little brother in sleep.
There. A short little cutesy/crappy drabble. Tell me what you think, good or bad!