Hey all. Chapter two is here! I was going to wait a few days to write it, but the response from you guys was so awesome that I fired it out a little early. This chapter is dedicated toDr. Prongsiefor the fantastic review. Congratulation, whoop, whoop. Now, onto the story!

Eliza was in that state between waking up and being fully alert. She felt groggy, her forehead was stinging and she could smell what appeared to be coal, and the earthy smell of the countryside. Fuck my life, she thought in despair, remembering the previous events of the day. She was currently in a make believe world.

For the second time in one day she gingerly opened her eyes to see Bilbo Baggins looking at her worriedly, however this time he was seated across what appeared to be a small, cosy bedroom on a wooden rocking chair. The walls were painted a light green and there were several fully stocked bookshelves along them and a small roaring fire directly across from the bottom of the bed. The small circular window in the room, which seemed to have been made from highly polished wood, was slightly ajar, letting the fresh country air into the room. Eliza took all of these details in by the time Bilbo noticed she was no longer comatose.

"Ah," he began rising slowly and putting down a small, blue, paperback book onto the wooden table beside the bed, "Yes, you're awake. That's good, I wasn't sure when you'd awaken, you've had a nasty fall I'm afraid. That's twice now you've passed out in my garden." She couldn't tell if he was trying to lighten the mood or if he was blaming her; he had one of those faces that always seemed serious.

She was half surprised he didn't just leave her there, or roll her out of his garden with his foot, and pretend he had never seen her. It was kind of nice of him to bring her in here though. She was lying in a spacious four-poster bed with a heavy green quilt tucked up to her neck. She was ever so delighted to see that she was still wearing the yellow abomination, though she supposed it would be more disturbing if she wasn't. Leaning up on both her arms she used her head to gesture pointedly to the bed.

"I carried you in here," he answered her unspoken question hurriedly, his hands wringing each other nervously. "When you fell that is. I carried you in. It wasn't easy mind you, but I did it." Excellent, he was calling her fat. She had just been called fat by a hobbit. That was just the icing on top of her shitty day. "I also bandaged your head." he continued, pointing above his right eyebrow which caused her to reach up a hand to her own. She could feel a thin bandage running horizontally across the top of her forehead, right over the stingy section, and round the back of her head. "You cut it when you fell. Nothing else seems injured, thank heavens, and your dress seems intact."

Yes, thank god she broke her fall with her face.

"Never mind all that though, how are you feeling? Hungry? Thirsty? I can whip something up if you like?" Now that she thought about it, she was rather hungry, and she could really use some time on her own. "I'm still feeling a little dizzy," she tried to tell him, though her voice was still a little rough. "Would you mind giving me a few moments by myself? I could use some soup too if you have it." They did have soup here, right? She didn't feel up to solid foods just yet, and she really wasn't fond of porridge. She'd eat it if she had to though, desperate times and all that.

Bilbo just looked relieved to have something to do, and maybe a reason to leave the room. "Of course, I'll give you some privacy." With that he left the room, leaving her to her own thoughts. No word on the soup though.

She got more comfortable, scooting backwards so that her back was to the wall and she could lean her head back and look at the sapphire canopy.

She really needed to get her shit together, she was a Shepherd, they didn't have emotional breakdowns. So she woke up in a fictional world, so what.At least she wasn't lying in pieces in a ditch somewhere. She was on Middle Earth, how many people had dreamed of something like this? How many would kill for it? Eliza hadn't seen the Hobbit, but she'd loved the LOTR's films. She'd taken a little archery in her day too, and she could clobber idiots with the best of them. She'd just go along with Bilbo, fight some bad guys and then BAM! She'd be sent back home. And maybe when she got there she'd become a motivational speaker, cause she was starting to feel fantastic about this whole fiasco.

That was of course until she slipped her feet out from under the quilt and onto the floor.

She stared morosely at them, sniffed once, and then promptly burst into tears.

It wasn'tfair. Her feet, once pale and slender, were now large, unattractive hobbit feet, covered in a smattering of coppery brown hair.

She could deal with being transported into a book, but who the fuck had turned her into a hobbit? Ugh, screw you vodka and coke!

Using her right hand she grabbed the quilt and brought it up to her face, making no attempt what-so-ever to stifle her sobs. How long would she be here? What would her family think when she didn't come home? And more importantly, who would feed her hamster Zevran while she was gone? If she got back and he wasn't still a fat, content little bastard, then heads would roll.

Bilbo, having obviously heard the loud wails she was producing, ran panicked into the room, only to freeze when he saw her disheveled appearance. Her hair, which took on a life of its own every night, was sticking out every which way; her eyes were red and she was pretty sure her nose was running. She sniffed loudly and wiped her face unattractively on the soft blanket. She could practically feel his grimace from across the room.

"Those sheets actually belonged to my mother, so if you don't mind, I'd rather you didn't do that." he looked both apologetic and frightful as he said it.

God she was a bitch, ruining his mother's sheets like that. Heaven forbid he'd have to fucking wash them.

"I'm sorry," she apologized all the same; her mother had attempted to raise a lady after all. "I'm having a bit of an identity crisis." She finished, gesturing vaguely to her entire body, just as her tears tempered off.

"I would help you with that if I could, but I'm afraid I don't even know your name. I'm Bilbo Baggins." He tried to offer her a friendly smile, probably trying to appease the crazy lady.

She gave a humourless laugh, she was more than aware of who he was. Nevertheless she had to play it oblivious if she wanted to avoid being accused of witchcraft. "I'm Eliza. Eliza...Underhill." She couldn't exactly tell him that she came from a different world. If she wanted to get through whatever-it-was that she was supposed to get through, then she had to play the hand she was dealt.

She was so smart sometimes.

"Well, Miss Underhill," he released her hand and dragged the old rocking chair over to the side of the bed. He sat in it, and offered her his full attention. "What seems to be the problem?"

The problem? What in God's name could she tell him? I'm awfully sorry to tell you Mr Baggins, but you happen to be a fictional character in a book I never bothered to read. And as it turns out, God hates me and so decided to trap me in said book with no way to contact my family or friends. Now I have to convince you, the only person I've met in this fake world, to let me stay with you because I have nowhere else to go.Yeah, that would go over real well with him.

"The problem is, that I've recently found myself separated from home. I've been wondering around for some time, not knowing what to do or where to go." The secret to telling a convincing lie was to build it upon a small amount of truth. Right now she was feeding off her actual emotions and she could feel her eyes tearing up again. Come on, offer me a place to stay. Offer me a place to stay.

"You can't be reunited with your family?" he questioned, hands resting beside her on the bed and his brows drawn up in a serious expression. This caused Eliza to shake her head sadly in reply. Que pathetic sniffing.

"Not in this life, no." In this life she was a fucking hobbit. Her family would piss themselves laughing if they saw her now.

"Well then, there's only one thing for it. You'll stay here." he was nodding his head towards her hopeful face. "That is, until we can find somewhere else for you."

Fuck yes! Mission accomplished.

A special thanks to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter and follow the story. In less than a day it's gotten more followers than my other stories combined. It's both fantastic and sad at the same time :L I'm going to edit the first two chapters tomorrow, cause I'm a lazy bitch who needs to fix them up, so if you see anything that needs changing let me know!

-The Lieutenant Sarcasm