I forgot to mention this in the summary: The story will have a mix of the book and movie, for there are aspects I like from both. Thank you for your support guys, I hope you like this chapter as well.

Bilbo was awakened by a hand shaking him softly by the shoulder, he blinked a few times to get adapted to the bright light of day and rubbed his fists on his sore eyes before stretching them high over his head and letting out a loud yawn. After settling from his loud awakening, Bilbo heard a chuckle.

"Gandalf." The hobbit acknowledged and greeted. "Good morning."

"Good morning, my dear Bilbo, did you sleep well?"

"Yes, surprisingly so." Honestly said Bilbo, a tired smile on his face.

"Good, good, I'm glad you did. You did look tired yesterday. Now that you're awake it would be best if we made haste and caught up to the rest."

"What?" Bilbo looked around, and it was true indeed, the camp was empty, desolated if not for Myrtle and Gandalf's horse. With a jerk he was on his feet, rapidly packing his belongings, mounting the pony and ready to part when suddenly it hit him. He ran his hands over himself then into the bags and searched. "Oh, no."

He jumped off the pony and checked through everything thoroughly, arms shaking, heart beating fast and mind racing with several thoughts. Then he stopped to succumb to horror. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no! Thorin was going to have his head for looing it! No, he's a Baggins, and Baggins don't lose things. Bilbo turned to Gandalf, who was looking at him with curiosity.

"Gandalf, by any chance did you see the coat I had this morning? A black, furry coat?"

"Thorin's coat?" Gandalf, recalling what he'd heard last night. Now aware what was troubling the small fellow.

"Yes, that's the one. Have you?"

"Yes, I did."

"Where?"

"On Thorin when he left this morning."

Bilbo froze. Here he was, searching like mad for the dwarf's coat, getting the scare of his life, and wasting valid time, for nothing?!

Gandalf was amused by Bilbo's face of shock and can't help but whisper to himself. "Fool of a Took." Then he raised his voice. "Come on Bilbo, we don't want to keep them waiting for long." Said Gandalf. "A Baggins is never late."

Bilbo sighed. "A Baggins is never late." He agreed.

#

There was Thorin, mounting his pony gracefully, with his coat on and an icy glare fixed on Bilbo's small figure as he rode towards them. "You're late."

"We're never late, or too early, we are just in time." Said the wizard, but telling that Thorin was not mad at him but at Bilbo he quickly added. "I allowed Bilbo further sleep than meant to, my apologies."

"He's old enough to take care of himself." Bilbo snapped his head up, taken off guard by Thorin's reminder of their talk yesterday. The tone of the dwarf made Bilbo realize that their conversation hadn't changed Thorin's opinion about him. "Aren't you, Halfing?"

"I wouldn't be late if I hadn't thought I'd lost your coat." Explained Bilbo, headstrong. "And I can take care of myself well enough, thank you very much."

"You're quite an impudent for such a small creature." Thorin's eyes turned to slits, and before Bilbo could speak Gandalf silenced him with a glare and made an apologetic gesture to the dwarf king. From there, Thorin spoke. "I believe I told you I would preferably have it back by morning."

"You did." Answered Bilbo. grumpily.

"I thought so." Agreed Thorin. Some of the dwarves chuckle, others remained silent while Thorin returned to the front of the comapny, paying no heed to Bilbo.

"Presemptuous dwarf!" Blurted out Bilbo in a low hiss. "And here I thought he might be the most descent amonsgst them all! I couldn't be more wrong!"

"Shush Bilbo. We have enough anger in this group to have you succumb to it as well." Gandalf tried to ease Bilbo's sudden outburst, he understood why Bilbo was unhappy, such treatment in the Shire was unthinkable. But this was not the Shire, and dwarves were far from respecting Bilbo. "I understand you're angry, but you are far from your home, and you will find that not all are like your people. Try to be a little more tolerating."

Bilbo sighed and crossed his arms. "I don't believe I have the same amount of patience, Gandalf." He then pouted and stared at Thorin's back, mixed feelings raged inside him. "Would it hurt if he were to be a little more considerate of me? It's not like I bragged about being anything but a simple folk."

"You are anything but normal Bilbo." The wizard added, winking at the hobbit as he handed an apple over. "This time don't feed it to the pony." He whispered before taking another apple out and taking a bite, Bilbo remained stupefied by the comment before his rumbling stomach made him eat the apple—he knew it wouldn't be enough to cease his hunger, but he could already tell that he'd have to get used to a lot of things; Like not having five foods a day, not sleeping the required number of hours, waking up at painful hours of the day, and last but not least, adapt to these dwarves, and try to understand them—their leader included.

Between being bothered by the king's nephews; Fili and Kili, the excessive aggressiveness and grumpyness from Dwalin and Dori, Bofur and Ori's constant line of questioning and Bifur speaking to him in dwarfish— god knows what about—Bilbo couldn't believe it could get any worse. And as if the universe wanted to prove him wrong, rainfall poured on them like there was no tomorrow.

Bilbo felt his hair and clothing stick to his skin uncomfortably, drenching and sinking his normally up bound curly hair, and freezing him beyond belief. He felt the pony shudder under him and he can't help to lean over and pet Myrtle tenderly. "It is quite cold isn't it?" His question was rhetorical, but he liked how the pony purred, like she agreed with him. "Hopefully, we don't catch a cold. That would be rather nasty."

It was moments like these that he wished he could be back in the Shire, in his warm, comfortably, dry hobbit hole. Wrapped in his thick, warm nightie, sitting on his chair by the fire reading by the flame's light, skimming the pages, reading of adventures, elves and trolls. But he knew that if that happened, he woudln't grant himself peace for having missed such a chance.

Gandalf chuckles. "Looks like you've taken a liking to the pony, Bilbo, fond of them just like your great-great-great-great grandfather was. You sometimes remind me more of a Took than a Baggins."

"Well, she gets the hard work of carrying and transporting us, she deserves to be spoiled from time to time."

"There are worse things than this, Mr. Baggins." Stepped in Balin.

"Like what?" His curiosity would get the best of him one of these days.

"Being eaten by trollls, orcs and goblins, killed in battle, bleed to death, burned to death—"Started Bofur cheerfully, finally putting his pipe away, giving up on trying smoking it. Bilbo's face turned paler and looked at Myrtle, no longer wanting to hear another of Bofur's helpful remarks.

"That—that's enough, thank you, I believe I understand." Bilbo interrupted Bofur, then leaned forward and patted Myrtle, as if consoling her, Bifur snorted and said something to his cousin, who nodded in response, then he turned to Bilbo.

"Don't worry, lad, we're in the best leadership here. Besdies, we all look out for each other. Each other's safety is our priority." He ensured, and then returned to his place in front of Bilbo, who sheepeshly looked at Thorin and wonder if Thorin would go through the trouble of protecting one that was not of his kin.

"Gandfalf, couldn't you make it stop raining?" Asked one of the dwarves, and by the thickness and aggressiveness in it, Bilbo believed it to be Dwalin's or maybe Dori's, but in the mist of rainfall and thunder he couldn't truly be sure.

"It'll stop raining, master dwarf, when the rain is done." Muttered Gandalf ominously.

Everyone hunched in disappointment. "What kind of wizard are you then!?"

Bilbo peeked at Gandalf, who was also at the limit of his patience, take a deep, long sigh, the kind that said 'I'm a wizard, not a miracle worker'. Bilbo didn't really blame him, dwarves weren't know for manners, decency or wits, or being really that tolerable.

"How many wizards are there Gandalf?"

"Five. Including me, Saruman the white, then the two blue wizards— which their names escape me, and Radagast the Brown; a very interesting fellow."

"Are they all like you?" Asked Bilbo curiously, making Gandalf gape at the undermining in his voice. He knew Bilbo hadn't meant it but it still hurt nonetheless.

"I find them all amazing wizards. And Radagast is the most interesting of them all. He is all here," He pointed to his chest, a tender smile on his face, then pointed to his head, "but not here, not at all."

"He's mad?" Asked Bilbo, making Gandalf burst into laughter.

"I don't think mad would be the right word here, my boy." Explained Gandalf. "Time does interesting things; some for the worse, some for the better. With Radagast I think it's a bit of both. He prefers the company of animals than that of humans."

Time. "How long do wizards live?"

"Long enough, my lad."

Bilbo pouted, as he began to count the generations that Gandalf had claimed to know of his family. And if his calculations were correct, which more likely were, Gandalf must be over four hundred years old. He frowned; hobbits truly had short lives compared to most. "Do wizards live as long as dwarves?"

Gandalf smiled and shook his head. "Not even close."

#

It had stopped raining a while ago and the sun was now at the highest spot in the sky, warming them up, slowly changing its course to give way to night, and the company made their next stop, by a destroyed shag, one that Gandalf was disapproving off camping in, but when he mentioned his opinion to Thorin, the other belitled the wizards concern and the camp was made, anyways, without concern for the wizards words, causing Gandalf to leave.

No one knew if he'd come back, but Bilbo wanted to hope; the wizard wouldn't abandon him here, right? Well, he dearly hoped so.

Bilbo stretched his limbs, tired of sitting and keeping a watch for Gandalf, silently groaning before he patted Myrtle quite sheepishly, before taking more confidence and embracing her, whispering things one would to a friend. One would feel stupid doing these sort of things, but Bilbo felt it was most natural, and heartwarming, especially when the pony seemed to react.

"Don't bother, they can't understand anything beyond dwarfish or basics." Thorin said, walking to Bilbo's side, who shrinked away from the king, worried that the king was going to quarrel with him for his previous insubordination. But to Bilbo's surprise, Thorin didn't seem to be intersted in him at all. With a strange, thick, rough set of sounds coming from his lips, the pony immediately straightened and stood firmly before the king. The king turned to the hobbit with a quite pleased expresssion.

"Even if you say that, I believe she understands me." Bilbo patted Myrtle's nose again, feeling her lean onto his hand, demanding for more.

"That's only what you wish to believe."

"Even if she can't actually understand me, I think she can feel and interpret my words. I-its hard to explain."

Thorin stared at the hobbit intently. "I am beginning to believe you just came here to contradict me, Halfling."

"What? Not at all. It is a rather curious thing really." Bilbo took his eyes away from Myrtle to meet with Thorin, that unlike before his eyes were glazed with curiosity, and Bilbo was more than eager to ease that curiosity, as he was well acquainted with it and knew how annoying doubt could be. With a silent petition, he walked over to Thorin's pony, the dwarf following behind reluctantly and slowly, like thinking over the decision to stay or leave, and Bilbo was glad that Thorin decided to join him in the end. He first handed his hand for the pony to smell, then when given permission he touched it, running his fingers down the thick layer of hair.

Bilbo turned to Thorin and offered his hand to the king, invitingly. Thorin looked at Bilbo's hand then back to his face, Bilbo retreated his hand while the other took a step forward, standing close to the pony as he ordered. "Do it."

Bilbo enthusiastically did so, repeating what he had done with Myrtle, he scarefully leaned on the horse, turning his head so his ear was pressed against the horse and placed both hands on its neck for leverage, allowing him to feel the pony's heartbeat, steady breathing, warmth. He smiled at the feeling; it was much different than the one he'd gotten from Myrtle, this one was utterly proud, just like its master. "What's his name?"

"Theron." He gruffly said. "They are not pets."

"Indeed, they are our companions." Countered Bilbo softly as backed off and incited Thorin to repeat, which the other did awkwardly, as if afraid that his strength would break the pony or distrusting that the pony was going to attack him, or both of them at once. Then he finally concluded the act, and he remained like that for a few moments; listening, feeling, understanding. And Bilbo, forgetting who he was dealing with took the dwarf's hand and lead it up the pony's neck until it rested on its nose, and moved it around to mimic a stroke. "Tell him something nice."

"Nice?" Snarled the dwarf as if the word had a bitter taste to it.

"A compliment." Thorin gave it a thought and nodded in acknowledgement that he would give it a go—he'd already come this far, after all. He looked at Bilbo for guidance, unsure how to be...sweet. "Tell him…tell him how well he did today."

"But he didn't. His efficiency was lower than usual." At his words the pony whined, which made Bilbo chuckle, his point had been proved correct.

"Then something else. But don't lie, they know when you lie."

Thorin's brows furrowed in thought. Then spoke again, and even if the words weren't sweet, coming from Thorin such words as "Descent job," and "You're a worthy companion," sounded tender, and like Myrtle did, the pony purred and leaned into Thorin's touch.

Thorin's face softened and Bilbo could only stare in marvel the change in the ruthless warrior. He couldn't help but think that the dwarf was the most bitter and sorrowing sight, it was like watching a ghost, the remnants of a what little Thorin had besides hate, remorse and grudge, something beutiful. It fades quickly and Bilbo remains thirsty for more.

Thorin became aware that the hobbit was staring, and slowly pulled away, sheathing his hand out from Bilbo's smaller one until it hanged by his side. Their gazes immediately met and Bilbo offered him a smile, suddenly aware of what he'd done, turned his eyes away, fidgeting nervously.

"You're an odd creature, Halfling." He said. "Thank you."

Bilbo looked back to Thorin but the dwarf had left, Bilbo couldn't feel something inside him flutter, like butterflies, it was a wave of overwhelming joy, the sensation that he'd done something right.

"You're welcome." He responded so low that almost no one heard him.

Then, he heard someone cough and Bilbo slowly turned to make eye contact with Kili and Fili, who were both staring at him silently, one sitting on the rocks, head propped on his hand, while the eldest leaned on a tree branch lazily, when they realized Bilbo spotted them, they just wiggled their eyebrows.

"Nicely played, Mr. Baggins." Complimented Kili, a smirk on his lips.

"Look at him, smilling like a girl just given flowers by her merry lover!" Fili chuckled.

"I-I am not smilling." Snapped the hobbit, a hand raised to his lips to try and ease the muscles on his lips and push them downward, or at least hidethe un-checked smile from the king's nephews. Fili and Kili met each other's gaze and let a snort escape them before breaking into laughter, where the hobbit took his opportunity to leave.

What do you think? Like it, hate it? Let me know, so...review? :)