AN: Thank you all so much for the favourites and follows and especially for my reviewers (MissCallaLilly, Escape Through a Dream, musicluver246)! It's been great to hear from you! I'm not entirely sure where this is going, but I guess we'll see :) Happy reading and I'd love to hear more from you :D

PART ONE

one

Raven

Buckland, by the Old Forest

Early September 2958

(sixteen years later)

Raven was no longer a babe. No indeed, she might not look all of her fifteen years of age, but she was well on her way through adolescence. She was tall for a hobbit, already almost the same height as Bilba, her mother, though she only looked about eleven. Raven apparently took after her father, not that she and Bilba talked much about him. She had sapphire blue eyes and thick dark locks that were wavy, but not quite curly. In spite of her dwarvish features, however, her feet were larger and thicker-soled than a dwarrow's, her ears were slightly pointed and, at least as of yet, she showed no signs of growing a beard. Sometimes, Raven suspected, it hurt Bilba to see her because of how much she reminded Bilba of Raven's father, but such suspicions were never actually discussed.

Earlier on this particular mid-autumn day, Raven had woken up and checked her traps. Usually, Bilba came with her, but her Aunt Primula had been called back to Brandy Hall to tend to her ill father. Without her around, Bilba and Raven both had to work harder so she had taken it upon herself to go alone. The gardens were overflowing with crops to be tended to, harvested, and prepared before winter so Bilba couldn't really spare the time to check the traps. Anyways, Raven was fifteen, going on sixteen, and she had done this before; she could take care of herself she reasoned.

Unfortunately, the lines were empty. One trap had been sprung, but its prey had gotten away to her disappointment. Raven saw to it that the traps were all still functioning and put a small amount of fresh bait in each one. The bait was precious left-over food that she, Bilba, and Aunt Primula had given up in the hopes of getting meat to add to their stews. The next time that she got to check the traps, Raven hoped that they'd be successful. Already, it had been nearly a month since she'd caught anything and with the coming winter, she'd have even less success.

The dwobbit, as Bilba affectionately called her, was headed back towards the smial when she heard the loud company. She quickly hid herself and waited. If Bilba knew how close to the road Raven was, then she'd be furious, but cutting back on the road was the quickest way back. Not to mention, without any meat, Raven knew that she'd have to venture into the village for supplemental provisions. There were only so many days that they could live on naught but fruit and vegetables. Judging by the sun, it had to be nearly ten in the morning, she guessed, so time if she wanted bread with her supper then she'd have to get to town fast. Raven clutched her dagger at her side, just in case, as the company passed above on the road. Bilba did not approve of her having it, but Raven knew better than to go out unarmed. While hobbits could typically be dealt with using fists, it wasn't just hobbits that crossed this part of the Shire, and Raven had been out hunting anyways.

It didn't take long for a dwarven company to come into Raven's sight on the road. It was larger than some of the other caravans that Raven had seen, though really all it meant was that she had to wait longer for them all to pass. Dwarrow, as multiple dwarves preferred to be called, were usually fairly ignorant of their surroundings, and at least in that regard, Raven was lucky to have inherited Bilba's hobbit stealth. Still, she didn't want to take any risks of being caught because she had no way of knowing what would happen to her then.

Raven did not know the details about Bilba's adventure with the dwarrow but she didn't think that they were still on friendly terms. At least, that was the only reason Raven could think of for why she'd never met her father or the Company and why Bilba had never sought him out to help them. They'd had difficult winters before, and if Bilba was still friends with her dwarrow they should have come or she should have asked them for help. Moreover, when Raven had first told Bilba about the presence of dwarrow on the road the colour had drained from Bilba's face. Raven knew that Bilba was afraid of nearly nothing, but while they welcomed Rangers and parties of elves, they hid from the dwarrow caravans that had become increasingly frequent.

In spite of how the caravans upset Bilba, however, Raven couldn't help but study every party that she caught. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't to try to catch a glimpse of her elusive father. Of course, Raven knew that her father had to be one of the Company members, and likely they were all still in Erebor, but she was still curious. Crouched in the bushes, Raven couldn't help but shift to better her view and sate her growing curiosity. There were armoured dwarrow with this caravan, and while a few guards were usual, this was more than that. At the centre of the party, Raven caught sight of a dark-haired lady and a golden-haired dwarf. A balding dwarf rode at their sides, laughing loudly and Raven felt a shock of suspicion. Hair was both unique and a status of pride. Bilba had only ever mentioned one dwarf without a full head, and that was Dwalin. Raven shifted again, trying to get a better view of the bald dwarf's head. Dwalin was supposed to have tattoos on his skull, and she wanted to know if her suspicions were right. The dark-haired dwarf woman, dwarrowdam she thought Bilba called them, suddenly turned and Raven froze. The dwarrowdam looked like her, Raven thought, with long black hair and blue eyes the same shade as Raven's. her foot slipped suddenly, and the dwarrowdam who had only been glancing in her direction before studied the bushes in earnest while Raven froze. From her spot, Raven dared no move in case it would alert the dwarrowdam to where she was. Instead, she stared after the slowly-passing party, her chest tightening in fear and longing. For a fleeting moment Raven wondered what would happen if they found her. If they were her kin as she suspected, then would they help her and Bilba? Could they make their lives better, or would it end up being a mistake?

"Amad?" The golden-haired dwarf asked when the dwarrowdam continued to stare in Raven's direction.

"It's nothing Fíli, I thought I saw something, but it must have been an animal." Fíli. Raven's heart raced in her chest. It had to be Dwalin then because Fíli would be Crown Prince and the dwarrowdam had to be Dís, Thorin's sister. Raven felt a cold-sweat rush over her. She had always hoped that one of the caravans would tell her who her father was, and now it just had.

Dwalin shouted something in what Raven assumed was Khuzdul and the guards moved closer to their royalty while the party moved on at a faster pace. Raven stayed frozen where she was until she could no longer hear the clatter of hooves, the rattle of cart wheels over the rutted earth, or the clank of their armour. Then, she sprang up and ran back towards the smial.

Raven wanted to charge back and demand that Bilba tell her who her father was, or rather to confirm that her sire was Thorin Oakenshield, but she knew that she could not. Thorin. Bilba said the least about the infamous leader of the Company and Raven thought she now understood why. It was obvious that Bilba still cared for all of the Company, but Raven now wondered, did Bilba avoid talking about Thorin because of anger, fear, or love? She thought it might be the latter because whenever Bilba had told Raven stories about her adventures and the Company it made her sad. Childhood questions about Bilba's adventures and her father had been met with a sad silence. The silence though wasn't the only response that Bilba had when her past was brought up. Raven, who still shared a bed with Bilba in their tiny smial, had stopped asking as soon as she was old enough to realize that her questions about Bilba's past, resulted in Bilba crying herself to sleep.

As Raven made her way back towards the smial she wondered what had drawn Fíli, Dís, and Dwalin from Erebor. As far as she knew they had not returned to the West since the quest, and for a moment she felt a flare of fear that they were here for Bilba. Then, Raven shook herself and thought about the matter more logically. It was autumn, and the later in the season it got the more dwarrow who habitually arrived for the celebration of Durin's Day. Bilba had told Raven once about the celebration, but the tears that had come after that story were so terrible that Raven avoided ever mentioning Durin again let alone the holiday.

The sun told her that it was nearing mid-morning when she got back to the smial, and she could see Bilba kneeling in the garden, digging determinedly at their latest crop of potatoes. Knowing that she'd let something slip if she talked to Bilba now, and still feeling a little hurt by Bilba's secret keeping, Raven kept to the trees and made a run for it behind Bilba's back to the smial. Once there, she ducked inside, pocketing the coins that the flour would cost and then snuck to the shed where they stored the wagon. After checking that Bilba was still not looking in her direction she lifted it and hurried around the corner of the hill before Bilba could catch her. Once away from the smial, Raven set the wagon on the street and hurried on, pulling it behind her as quick as she could. At times like this, she was glad for her half-dwarrow heritage because it made her stronger than Bilba or Aunt Primula, and therefore better able to avoid them.

Raven was still caught up in her thoughts as she walked into town. Usually Aunt Primula accompanied her because the hobbits liked her better than Raven and, well, it also made Bilba less nervous to know that Raven wasn't going off on her own. The little hobbit settlement at the edge of the Buckland was the only place in the Shire that Raven had ventured. She longed to go further though, to leave the Shire and explore Rivendell, Mirkwood and perhaps even to go as far as Erebor one day, but she kept her wishes to herself. Bilba was exhausted and stressed as it was, and if they went away travelling then no one would be there to tend to the crops and, when they returned, there would be no food.

Raven's trips into the village were relatively rare. Since Bilba had returned to the Shire she had set up an arrangement for the Rangers to bring them provisions at the smial. Recently, however, they had not come and though she tried to hide her emotions, Bilba was worried. With the empty traps, even though there were plenty of fresh vegetables and fruits now, they were in desperate need of more food because Bilba, Primula, and Raven needed to start saving if they were to be able eat that winter. Raven knew from a lifetime of experience that the weeks ahead would be filled with making jams, jellies, relishes, and pickling things for the long winter. They could use Aunt Primula's help, but she had already given up so much to help them, they wouldn't take her from her sick father nor did they have any idea when to expect her back. Aunt Primula was hard working and always cheerful, which Bilba and Raven both needed. Additionally, she was not shunned like Bilba, and although the hobbits treated her warily, they still bargained with her.

Socially, as Bilba's daughter, Raven was an anomaly. Bilba was shunned and Raven's father was not a hobbit so folks either shunned Raven, as they did her mother, or gossiped as openly about her as they did with the few big folk who dared to appear in the Shire. Raven couldn't say that what they said didn't upset her, but it was really the accusations against Bilba that upset her. Unfortunately, the gossip was nothing new and she'd had to learn to ignore it. Aunt Primula always said that it would make them even madder if Raven never responded. Raven knew better than that. If she angered the hobbits, if they tried anything against Bilba, Primula, and Raven then they'd be helpless. They needed the hobbits to give them the extra food, not to drive them out and if Raven infuriated them enough then it might come to that. Save for a few particularly vile occasions Raven had made her Aunt proud, letting Primula's faith bolster her resolve while she steadfastly ignored the gossip.

Today, however, without Aunt Primula at her side it was just Raven facing the whispers of the village. Already she'd had to take several deep breaths to keep herself from responding either with words or otherwise. Raven had a dagger hidden in her belt under her apron, and her childhood weapon, a sling, which was temptingly accessible, not to mention she thought she could probably punch out any hobbit who said the wrong thing.

Raven had grown up hunting, taking down many a squirrel and rabbit with her sling and she was a good shot. Killing for her food, Raven knew better than to hesitate. Recently, Bilba had even started to teach her how to use a bow and arrow. Granted, Bilba wasn't exactly a fantastic shot, but they had a bow and Bilba let Raven practice with it. Unfortunately, with so many other tasks at hand, and their limited time to hunt, it was not an activity that they could devote long hours to.

Looking through the market for the few groceries and supplies that they need, Raven tried to distract herself with plans for the next week instead of listening to the gossip, but it was difficult. When it became too much for her already-frazzled nerves, Raven found herself walking as quickly as she could towards the miller's; the rest of their shopping could wait until Aunt Primula was back. Other hobbits who were out and about stopped and stared, whispering loudly as she passed but Raven held her chin aloft and kept going. Hobbits were notorious for their gossip, and as the so-called 'half-breed bastard daughter of a shunned hobbit' even if she didn't do anything to perpetuate it, the gossip always followed her.

Raven continued to ignore the whispers about her mother's disgraceful conduct and speculations about her own lose nature. She might still be young, especially considering that she still looked only about eleven, but Raven was also old beyond her years. As sad as it might be, it was the simple truth because, when there were only the three of them living in isolation, there was no time for coddling. Raven knew how to be independent, she could take care of herself and she also knew how to ignore the whispers.

Having a dwarf for a father had never bothered Raven overmuch. Bilba had done a good job of assuring Raven that she loved her and making sure that her daughter never felt alienated for her differences. Ultimately, Raven knew though that Bilba and Aunt Primula's love was all that she cared about. These hobbits could gossip as much as much as they liked; as long as Bilba and Aunt Primula loved her these strangers' opinions mattered little to her.

That same determination was ultimately why Raven's coins bought almost as much flour as she'd hoped they would. The miller, on the other hand, had learned that she didn't just accompany her Aunt Primula, she learned from her. Raven couldn't count how many times they had bought flour there before, but she could tell the miller the exact price that Aunt Primula paid and she'd showed him that, although they might not have spoken before, Raven knew how to haggle.

When the transaction was done Raven hefted the sack into her cart and headed briskly back along the row, anxious to leave the gossip behind her as the sun began to set. Bilba would be worried and Raven was beginning to feel guilty for having been gone so long.

Raven had been staring resolutely ahead, lost in thoughts about the dwarven party from earlier, and whether or not to mention their presence to Bilba when she fell to the ground hard. She hadn't been looking up and therefore hadn't noticed the figure until they collided. Raven felt a blush rise to her cheeks as she readied herself for insults, but instead of being yelled at she found an apology aimed her way.

"I'm sorry, Little One, I didn't see you there-" the man, for that was what he was, apologized. Curious, Raven looked up at him and saw shock run across his features as he looked over her again. She scrambled quickly to her feet, picking up the fallen handle to her wagon.

"I'm sorry, Sir." she murmured, ducking her head before trying to circumvent him. She wouldn't cower away from hobbits who already knew who and what she was, but strange big folk were another question entirely. Raven didn't want to cause any trouble, and especially considering who she'd seen earlier, she knew better than to stir up any new gossip.

"I'm not a Sir," he said, and she paused. "My name is Gandalf, and now that I've told you my name who might I have the honour of addressing?"

"Gandalf?" Raven blurted in surprise, looking back up at the wizard with a mix of hope and dread.

"Ah, so you do know my name, I thought you might, but come now, I'm still waiting for your name." he insisted.

"Raven, at your service." she gave him a quick curtsy, remembering her manners. She did know that name. Bilba had mentioned it before in her stories, but those stories also led to nights spent crying so Raven didn't know whether Bilba would want to see her old friend or, if it would be better to send him on his way.

"Raven, yes, quite the fitting name. Raven Baggins I might presume?" he asked, and she scowled. Of course he would make that assumption. Likely, he didn't even know about Bilba's shunning.

"It's just Raven," she corrected, staring down at her dusty feet as she tried to debate whether Gandalf was a friend or a foe.

"Raven, an interesting choice of name, perhaps there is hope after all." Gandalf muttered, seemingly to himself. "You're Bilba's daughter, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes, Mister Gandalf." Raven replied politely, finally looking back up at him with determination. After all, there was little point in denying that fact. Any hobbit here could tell him the same.

"Well, as it so happens I'm here in the Shire looking for your mother. Quite the difficult hobbit she is to track down these days. I suppose though we may call it fate since we've bumped into each other." Gandalf replied, and Raven frowned. Raven knew Gandalf's name from Bilba's stories, but no good ever seemed to come of people looking for them.

The first time that they'd had visitors it had been male hobbits. Bilba had chased them away with her sword, and there had been a few other times that she had defended their home with Sting. Bandits, youngsters up to no good, and a few other males. Bilba had called them suitors, but Raven didn't think they wanted to romance her mother very seriously, after all, they hadn't even brought flowers with them.

Raven continued to eye Gandalf suspiciously. He might once have been a friend, but the wizard had never come looking for them. Sure Bilba might be shunned, but he was supposed to know about hobbits, so surely he could have found them and they could have used his help many times over the years. In fact, the more that Raven thought about the wizard, the less she liked him. Bilba might be trustful, but Raven didn't like outsiders.

"Why are you looking for her now?" she demanded boldly.

"Well, it's been a while I wanted to catch up with her." Gandalf said, trying to sound casual.

"It's been fifteen years." Raven reminded him flatly.

"Yes, I suppose it has. Time flies strangely, I'll admit, and I have been away on business." Raven glared skeptically at him. She could not tell if it was an apology or an excuse, not that she wanted to accept either. She could also tell that he was being vague and she didn't like that any more. "Surely though, you could let your mother and I discuss this?" Gandalf asked.

"She's not going on anymore adventures." Raven said firmly.

"Well, business of that ilk will be for your mother and I to discuss, and besides, we are old friends after all." the wizard dismissed. "Come now, I believe there are a lot of other things for us to speak about. I went by Bag End to look for her, but was turned away and told that she had left. It was only the Rangers who told me that I could find her in these parts."

"If you're such good friends then where were you when we needed help?" Raven demanded, her temper flaring. Still, she reasoned, the rangers were their friends, if they had told Gandalf where to look then perhaps he was no so bad? Still, she met the wizard's gaze, watching for any response and was rewarded with a flicker of emotion. She didn't know him enough to recognize it, but she thought it might have been remorse.

"I am sorry for that, I had no idea of what was happening. I have been busy in the South for the past several years." the wizard elaborated a little from his earlier vagueness. Raven frowned. She didn't like the way that he hid the truth, but she also realized it wasn't her place to judge; it was Bilba's.

"Fine. You can talk to my Ma, but if you upset her I'll shoot you. I have my own bow now." Raven finally decided, and the wizard offered her a smile and a slight nod of his head. Clearly he didn't take her seriously, but perhaps that could work to her advantage. He certainly wouldn't be the first to underestimate her capabilities.

"Very well." he agreed. She turned back to her wagon, pulling it behind her as she marched out of the village, the whispers about her oddities growing. No doubt the next time that she tried to buy flour the price would have doubled, but the hobbits did not speak quite so loudly as before. They seemed unsure of how dangerous Gandalf was. He wielded a staff, claimed to be a wizard, and had a sword strapped to his side.

Raven was determined not to let how heavy the wagon was getting show. She might be part dwarrow, but it was also a two-hour walk back over a rough road. Stubbornly though she didn't let her pace falter and kept her posture upright. At least, she promised herself, they'd have some fresh bread now. It would not last for very long, it never did, but their last flour had run out weeks ago and she was excited for real bread again. Bilba's baking was delicious and Raven personally hoped that maybe there would still be enough in a fortnight for a pie to celebrate her's and Bilba's birthdays. Raven would go on a hunt before their birthday too. Animals knew better than to wander too close to the smial and the empty traplines suggested that they had moved even farther afield, but Raven wouldn't let that stop her from bringing fresh meat home for their special supper.

Aside from the occasional bread and meat they regularly ate produce and the few chickens they had gave them enough eggs for breakfast. The goat, that it had taken them years to save up for, gave them a little milk as well. It might be poor fare, especially for two adult hobbits and growing dwobbit, but having a bit of all of it on one day was a feast to Raven. Thinking about food, her belly rumbled loudly as she realized that she hadn't eaten all day.

Raven hadn't minded the long walk coming into town. She liked to walk and she'd desperately needed the time alone to clear her mind earlier, but with the wizard at her side changed that. Her privacy was gone and his fast pace forced Raven to almost run just to keep up. Altogether, it made the long commute feel at least three times longer. Finally, however, the back of the hill appeared and Raven slowed.

"You'd better not upset her." Raven warned the wizard again. He'd tried to make small talk with her along the way, but she'd stubbornly ignored him. He had muttered something about dwarvish stubbornness and cursed Durin's line, further supporting her suspicions but she'd said nothing.

"Raven is that you? You have no idea how worried I was to wake up and find you gone!" Bilba clearly heard the wagon's wheels bumping along the dirt path because she emerged from the smial only to freeze at the sight of the man at her daughter's side.

Raven quickly went to her mother, letting the hobbit embrace her even while the blood drained from Bilba's face. Inwardly, Raven cursed herself for bringing the wizard with her back to their home as Bilba's grip on her tightened. Gandalf might never have found them without her showing him the way, Rangers be damned, and whatever he might say, Raven was beginning to suspect that even his presence would only bring trouble. There was no undoing it now though; whatever the future held, Raven, Bilba, and Aunt Primula would face it together.

"Gandalf?" Bilba gasped in surprise, her eyes widening as she took a hesitant step towards the wizard.