DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Hobbit. If only I did, if only I did...

Okay, just so you know- I literally HATE this chapter. There is no words to describe how terrible- in my opinion- this chapter was to write and how painful it is to read. I prefer my prologue way more. I'm really sorry that it's been taking so long. To be honest, I published this story at a really stupid time for me since I just started my GCSE's (sorry, I'm not sure what the American equivalent would be).

Though I do have good news: I just got a new laptop! It's so much faster than my old one, so hopefully I should be able to write chapters a lot quicker than before (assuming I can find the time, that is).

Hopefully, future chapters won't take this long to publish or be this boring or confusing so please don't judge based on what you've read of this chapter! Thank you! ;)

Ilvy: Yeah, I know right! It's really hard to choose a race when so many of them are so good (my favourites are the dwarves but I'm not entirely sure I'd want to be one). Omg, really? Thank you so much! 3 I try to make my stories unique so I thought that someone younger would be great seeing as how they take a different approach to things than adults and all that. I'm glad you're interested- I can only hope that I manage to keep you entertained! XD

PadawanLilia: Awww, thanks! I'll try my best to keep it good ;)

WhoWould'veGuest: Thanks a lot! :) I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks that way about romances. XD As you said, I chose Anna since, yeah, children see things in a very different way to adults- they're not always appreciated in that way, so how Anna should interact with all of these characters should be kind of interesting, especially considering she'll be dealing with people who are more than 10 times her own age, and royalty at that. And I'm so glad I have a Fanfic Stalker. Reading your second comment, it made me feel really bad that it took me this long to update (particularly since this is more of a filler-chapter than anything else) so it really motivated me to finish. I'm glad you're liking it so far! I spend quite a lot of time going over my work to check that it flows well, so I only hope I'll be able to live up to your high expectations! Nice name, btw! *Much love!*

SethadoreVCG: Half-dwarf, half-human? That's pretty cool actually. Not too stubborn and not too hairy, but not weak or anything either. I'd probably want to be that, too :D Here's another chapter for ya!

: Don't worry, I'm not abandoning this fic quite yet! I just take a while to upload, so sorry about that. And thank you so much! :) I'm glad you're liking it so far, I just hope I can keep this standard up.

Also, before you begin to read, keep in mind that Anna is a child. She will act more explosively and more scared than an adult would and will express her emotions more freely. Hence this chapter.


Chapter 1: The Hobbit

"Life always offers you a second chance. It's called tomorrow."- Anonymous


There was no way to describe dying.

It was strange- uncomfortable, even. As her heart slowed to a steady stop and the oxygen to her brain was cut off, the rest of her body seemed to lose all control; her lungs stopped taking in air, her muscles went limp and her eyes slid shut. In her head she could still hear the sound of the truck tires squealing against the pavement and the thick thud of the vehicle colliding with her body. The petrified scream of a woman across the street rung in her ears, a sob of her own rising in her throat.

It was almost like she was hovering over her own corpse, watching with a strange numbness as the young truck driver, pale-faced and horrified, scrambled out of the front seat and landed on his knees beside her spread-eagled body. He was sobbing, shaking her desperately as if to literally shock the life back into her. They both knew it was hopeless.

One by one, Anna could see the doors of neighbouring houses being flung open, people running out in a dazed panic. Some gasped, many screamed, a few simply looked on in a horrified silence. All eyes were fixed upon her body, bloody and broken, as her killer- a man who could only be in his early twenties- leant over her and wept.

Everything else was a blur after that.

Anna looked on as the ambulance came screeching around the corner with it's sirens screaming, the police not far behind. The medical team, somber and silent, escorted her body away on a stretcher, pulling a large white sheet over her head to hide her from prying eyes. The driver was ushered to one of the police cars with tears streaked down his face, shaking and wheezing.

And then the ambulance was gone, and the accident gone with it.

Now she found herself floating above what looked like a funeral, watching with wide eyes as a polished coffin was lowered into the earth. Surrounding it was a crowd of mourners, all dressed in various shades of black, white and grey. Most were crying, tears running down their faces.

She could see her parents at the front of the assembly. Her mother, beautiful and strong, had completely broken down, her head buried into her husband's jacket as she sobbed. Anna's father- forever laughing and always seen with a smile on his face- was deathly still and silent. All of a sudden, Anna could see the pronounced wrinkles on his brow, the dark, hollowness of his eyes and the peppered silver in his hair. He looked so tired; as if the weight of the world had just been placed on his shoulders. Her mother wasn't any better. Her hair which was once a bright, voluminous burgundy was flat and dull. Her limbs were bony and delicate and her skin was as white as chalk. She looked as if one bad touch would crumble her to dust.

For a single, torturous moment, Anna saw her parents not as the strong, unshakeable pillars she had known them to be but two, sickly strangers wearing their skin. With all the desperation of a dying child, she tried to reach out to them, tried to tell them that she was still there, tried to tell them how much she loved them and missed them and wanted them here with her. But she couldn't speak. She couldn't move. She could only watch as they held each other, tears running down their faces as they mourned.

Anna could feel a frustrated cry welling up in her throat. She wanted nothing more than to launch herself into the warmth of their open arms and stay there forever. She wanted to tell them how much she loved them and how much she was going to miss them. She wanted to say goodbye.

She never even got the chance.

Without any warning, Anna felt herself being yanked away. Up and up, she went, the ghostly image of her embracing parents vanishing in a swirl of mist and nothingness.

Anna could hear laughter. Babies wailed in her ears, high and piercing. Beyond she could hear the sound of singing birds and the calming rustle of wind through leaves. She could hear the mighty roar of a crackling fire and the thunderous crash of the ocean against the seashore. She could hear a thousand feet thumping against the earth in determined unity as a deafening battle cry split the air with all the force of a war hammer.

"Excuse me?"

Anna shot up with a startled gasp. The sudden jolt to her systems sent her into a coughing fit, wheezing and hacking violently. She felt a hand lay gently on her back, rubbing it soothingly as a soft voice cooed from somewhere above her.

"Alright, alright, easy now... Deep breaths, there we go."

Slowly, almost painfully, Anna's eyes inched open.

Staring right back at her was a relatively young man with a mop of brown curls and a set of small, dully pointed- yes, pointed- ears poking out at either side of his head. The man was short, she guessed, at least a foot shorter than herself, as if he'd been shrunk down in the wash. Much to her confusion, he was dressed in a rather victorian-looking outfit; a pale blue waistcoat, brown trousers, a green neck-tie and a brown overcoat.

Out of the corner of her eye, Anna saw something twitch down by her feet. Looking down, she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from crying out surprise. He didn't have any shoes on- not that he had any need of them, from the look of things. Instead, he had two gigantic hairy feet which were tapping on the dry earth somewhat nervously, toes wriggling in the dirt.

If he noticed her staring, he didn't call her out on it, perhaps because he was watching her in much the same fashion- bewildered, wary and curious all at once. Anna had to stop herself from squirming as his eyes scrutinised her, roaming over her clothes with mild distaste before settling on her face.

"Are you alright?" he asked finally, eyebrows furrowed.

In response, Anna blinked and then looked down at herself questioningly. Physically, she felt fine, if a little tired and achey in places. Her school uniform was torn and stained but otherwise looked alright.

"I... I-I think I'm okay, thanks." She brushed down her skirt and hauled herself to her feet, head still reeling. The tiny man watched as she did so, though he seemed more concerned now than anything else.

"Well, do you need any help? Are you lost?"

At that, Anna paused. Did she? She couldn't even remember what happened to her.

"Actually," she asked after a moment, "could you tell me where I am, please?"

The little man looked almost confused. He gave a short, nervous puff on his wooden pipe- another addition to his strange ensemble and stuffed one of his hands in his pockets as he rocked nervously back and forth on his oversized feet.

"We're in Hobbiton. By the Brandywine River to be exact," he informed her, slowly. Anna blinked at him blankly. Hobbiton? That name was familiar. Her nose scrunched up in thought, inexplicable anxiety fluttering in her stomach. The man- if that was what he was- seemed to notice her quiet confusion and, much to her relief, decided to take pity on her.

"We're in The Shire," he said, finally.

She appreciated the effort, though it didn't really tell her very much. She'd never been particularly good at geography and she'd never heard of a place called 'The Shire'. Then again, it was so familiar... Why was it so familiar? Where did she know it from?

And then, like the truck from mere moments before, it hit her.

Anna froze, icy realisation sweeping through her . All of the blood rushed from her face and the pulse of her heart roared deafeningly in her ears as her stomach twisted itself into a violent knot. All at once, the memories came flooding back.


Dramatic snores echoed down the corridor, vibrating through the air violently. Engulfed in the darkness of the hallway, the figure grinned devilishly and gripped the wooden hilt of its sword between its hands. Taking a few, slow steps forward, it deftly slid through the gap in the door and braced itself for attack. When none came, the figure relaxed, eyes darting nervously.

A fire was roaring in the hearth, bathing the room in a warm, orange light that cast half the room in darkness. Candles burned on the window sill and on the bookshelf, their reflections dancing in the glass and throwing shadows across the tomes that lined the shelves. Directly in front of the fire, a giant shadow loomed, chest heaving with every heavy breathe. A hand was draped over the arm of the chair, calloused fingers almost brushing the floor as the thing snored and grunted in it's sleep.

The figure's lips lifted into a grin of triumph.

The beast would die tonight.

The shadow inched forwards, eyes glinting in the firelight as it closed in on it's prey. The creature grumbled in it's slumber and shifted slightly, just enough to make the figure pause uncertainly. Just enough so that they miss-stepped and stumbled forwards.

The sound echoed through the room like a gunshot as the old floorboards creaked under the weight of the figure's feet.

She froze, heart in her mouth as the beast moved. It gave a loud groan, head shooting up from where it had rested on his chest. Two, wide eyes blinked in the firelight, gazing sleepily around the room in a quiet daze. Then his eyes fell on her. They widened slightly, flickering down to the wooden dagger clasped in her hand before darting back up to her face.

Suddenly, with a howling battle-cry, she lunged across the room, jumping from the foot of the chair to land with a heavy thump on his chest. The beast gave an almighty groan as all the air was forced out of his lungs in one go, and he jolted as the cold wood of her mighty sword was suddenly pressed against his jugular. The little warrior's eyes danced with triumph in the firelight and a devilish grin spread across her face.

"Now, almighty Smaug, I finally have you at my mercy!"

The beast gave a surprised chuckle, his muscular arms raising up to encase her waist protectively as she wobbled.

"You have caught me at last, little hobbit. I, the all-powerful and terrible Smaug, am completely at your mercy." His voice was low and raspy, reverberating through the room like the heavy roll of a drum. He gazed fondly down at the tiny, giggling thing balanced on his chest and mock-winced as the wood of her sword dug into his neck.

"Though, now that she has caught me-" she grinned up at him cheekily through a curtain of blonde frizz, "-what will the little hobbit warrior do with me now?" She thought for a moment, bringing her hand to her chin and looking up at the ceiling pensively. Then she smiled; a full, teeth-baring grin that was full of mischief.

"I will release you," she decided finally, "but only if I get two-" she held up a finger and then frowned at it, "-no, three-" she put up two more fingers, "-cookies."

Her father raised an eyebrow.

"Three cookies?" He said in surprise, "My, you drive a hard bargain, little hobbit!" He seemed to consider her for a moment and then grinned wickedly, baring his teeth and raising his hands into threatening claws. "Perhaps I ought to gobble you up instead!"

Little Anna gave a squeal of horror-filled delight as she tried her best to escape the beast's threatening maw- but alas, she was too late! One thick arm wrapped itself around her tiny waist and tugged her back. She fell with a light 'oomph' against the man's front, sword slipping from his neck and waving around frantically as he restrained her.

The next second, she was being attacked by a barrage of wet, sloppy kisses, tickling fingers, and cheeky raspberries blown into her stomach. She shrieked with childish laughter as she writhed and kicked in his arms. Her father grinned mischievously down at her, eyes glinting in the firelight.

"Do you give in then, Bilbo Baggins?" He leaned towards the winded child menacingly. She simply giggled, "Yes, yes! I give in, Daddy! I give in!"

The 'dragon' gave a smug huff, lifting the tiny creature from where she was sprawled across his lap to trap her against his chest. She didn't fight him but instead gave him a wide hug around his middle, the prospect of cookies completely forgotten as she snuggled contently into his torso. He smiled back at her fondly, burying his head into her hair.

The two sat there for some time, bathing in the warmth of the crackling fire and reveling in the quiet comfort of their own breathing. Then the silence was broken by the stifled yawn of the young toddler and the clatter of her wooden sword hitting the floor as it slipped between her tired fingers. She could feel the vibrations of her father's muffled laughter through his chest, her eyes flickering drowsily at the low sound.

"Tired, girlie?"

She didn't reply but yawned instead, little hands coming up to rub at her flickering eyelids. He chuckled and pulled her closer, tucking her head into the crook of his neck and tugging her feet into his lap.

"Love you, Daddy," came the sleepy murmur from the little girl.

Her father smiled again, running a soothing hand through her blonde locks as he pressed a small, delicate kiss against her crown. "I love you too, little hobbit." And with that, little Anna pressed her head directly above the rhythmic thumping of his heart, and closed her eyes.


Suddenly she could remember everything.

The memory swam in front of her eyes, mixing with the sound of screeching tires and piercing shrieks and she fought to grasp it with both hands. She remembered now. The truck, the pain, her mum and dad... Did that mean...? Was she...?

Her head was pounding.

The Hobbit. She'd loved that book. Her father would read it to her every night, to the point where she'd beg him to re-enact some of the scenes with her. He was always Smaug, whilst she would switch between being Bilbo Baggins and the dwarven king who's name she could never remember. According to her father, she'd always preferred to be Bilbo because he was the title of the book and, apparently, she had always fancied herself as a main character.

Anna looked up. The man- no, this hobbit, she came to realise- was watching her apprehensively now. One hand was resting uneasily in his front pocket, the other was holding his pipe to his chest almost as a safety measure. His gigantic feet twitched erratically, shifting among the autumn leaves.

"Are... you feeling alright?" she heard him ask distantly, "Do you need to sit down for a while? You're looking rather pale."

Anna shook her head minutely, bile rising in her throat and her stomach writhing. This couldn't be possible, she thought determinedly. Either this way a dream, or a really realistic nightmare. Well, that or this was just some huge prank and if it was, she didn't find it very funny.

Maybe... maybe she had been in an accident and she was in a coma or something at the hospital. She'd read about similar things happening before. Maybe this was all some kind of drug-induced hallucination. Yeah, that had to be it. Or maybe she really was going crazy.

All of a sudden, she felt very alone and very, very afraid. Her voice began to shake, panicked tears gathering unwillingly at the corners of her eyes. The back of her throat stung with the familiar taste of vomit, her muscles shaking with echoed pain.

Anna had had enough. She wanted to go home. Now.

"O-Out of i-interest..." she asked, voice strained, "what's your name?"

The 'hobbit' smiled gently, tapped his pipe on his waist once and gave her a small, polite nod of the head in greeting.

"My name is Bilbo Baggins," he said, "And you are?"

For a moment, Anna seemed to just stare at him- first at his ears, then at his clothes, his pipe and, finally, his large furry feet. And then she burst into tears.

Bilbo Baggins was a very respectable hobbit- a fact he liked to take immense pride in (after all, there is nothing quite as flattering as being called 'respectable', especially in a community like The Shire).

But if there was one thing he was most certainly not good with, it was children. As a child, most interactions he'd had with hobbits his age had been relatively short and underwhelming. Most of his time had been spent exploring the woods, hunting for imaginary elves and burying himself into the numerous tomes of the Baggins' family library.

And so, when faced with a strangely-dressed, weeping human child, all he could do was stare.

"A...Are you alright?" he asked finally, hands twisting themselves into a nervous knot.

The young girl didn't respond and instead buried her face into her hands. He could see her shoulders shaking with the force of her terrified sobs, knees trembling and legs shaking beneath her. Bilbo winced uncomfortably.

"Oh, dear... It's, uh... It's alright. Don't cry..." he murmured, patting her head awkwardly as he smoothed down the tousled blonde curls in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. Oh, bother, he thought desperately, if only I hadn't decided to go on that walk this morning. Much to his relief, however, this seemed to have the desired effect and her tears began to slowly subside into soft hiccups.

They stood there for some time; a bewildered hobbit comforting a lost girl in the middle of the woods. Bilbo, confused and at a loss of what to do, simply kept petting her on the head to calm her. Eventually she did stop, rubbing at her eyes with her ripped sleeve as she gazed up at him with two red, puffy eyes. Wordlessly, Bilbo offered her his handkerchief. She took it gratefully.

"T-Thank you," was all she said, sniffling as she blew her nose. Bilbo blinked once and then smiled kindly, suddenly feeling inexplicably pleased with himself.

"You are very welcome."

There was a short, awkward pause as the girl and the man considered each other. When Bilbo spoke again, it was slow and careful, as though he didn't want to puncture the dam once more.

"If you don't mind me asking again," he told her gently, "But what's your name?" The girl gave him a small, watery smile- it was half-hearted and almost resigned in some way, but it was still better than nothing.

"Anna," she said quietly, "My name's Anna." Bilbo's smiled politely, unable to hide his relief.

"Well then, it is a pleasure to meet you, Anna," he told her gently, "Although I must admit, I had not expected such a meeting to take place." The girl didn't quite smile at him, but her hands did shake a little less when she wiped her eyes with the paused to consider his next words carefully before speaking again. "Where are your parents? Are you lost?"

The girl paused, arms wrapping around herself tightly as her head drooped. Her mouth opened hesitantly and then closed again.

"I-I don't know. I... I think so..."

Bilbo's treacherous heart squeezed ever so slightly. Ever so gently- trying to fight his discomfort- he picked up the young girl's hand and squeezed it. Anna's head shot up in sudden surprise. There was no fear in her expression, he noticed with some relief, simply a healthy sense of caution. She relaxed slightly when she saw his expression; warm and gentle, eyes overflowing with unspoken sympathy.

"Alright," he said, softly, "then where are you from? Bree?"

Her hand trembled in his grip. She was close to tears again, her breaths shuddering as she fought to keep calm. He murmured soft words of comfort to her, smoothing his thumb over her hand as she stubbornly gulped back her tears. A noise forced itself out of her throat- a cross between a sob and a pained cough.

"Somewhere really far away from here..."

The words came out as nothing more than a whisper. Understandably, Bilbo felt a little lost. What was he supposed to do? By the sound of things she had no idea where she was, her parents were missing, she had no one looking after her and obviously nowhere to stay, either. He was quiet for a few moments, fingers absentmindedly playing over her palm.

Now at this point, Bilbo had reached a conundrum. A respectable hobbit, he supposed, wouldn't just take in some stranger off of the street- child, or not, especially considering she was an Outsider. But at the same time, he couldn't just leave her. A selfish part of Bilbo was grumbling angrily. 'Just give her some provisions,' it hissed nastily, 'let her stay a few nights and then make her leave. She'll only cause you trouble. Far more attention and gossip than a respectable hobbit like you needs.' Bilbo ignored it. Respectable hobbit or no, he couldn't just leave someone to fend for themselves in the wilderness. Especially not a child, and a girl at that. Bilbo shivered as he recalled some of the terrible tales he'd heard over the years.

No, he certainly couldn't just leave her there.

"Do you have anywhere to go?" he asked, though he already had a hunch to what the answer was going to be. As expected, the girl shook her head. "Then why don't you stay with me for a while? At least until we can find a way to get you home."

Anna nodded and tightened her grip around his wrist. "T-thank you," was all she said and with that he slowly led her out of the forest and into the sunlight.

They walked in silence, passing through the trees in silence like a pair of ghosts.

Bilbo chanced a quick glance behind him at his new companion. She had stopped crying now, though her eyes were still red-rimmed and puffy. She wasn't looking at him, or indeed at anything else. Instead, she kept her gaze firmly on the ground in front of her, her feet dragging through the fallen leaves. Bilbo winced slightly, and held her hand a little tighter.

As they passed out from beneath the trees and into the bustling main streets of Hobbiton, he heard a gasp from behind him. Looking back, he watched with no small amount of bemusement as Anna gazed bewilderedly at her surroundings. Her eyes- still glassy and red- traced the many market stalls and shop fronts, absorbing every detail, every colour, every food and fabric. She marveled quietly at the smials they passed; small with brightly-painted round doors and windows, lush gardens, and blooming flower beds filled with every colour of the rainbow. She stared at every passer-by, examining the swishing skirts and the tight, silk waistcoats with childish-like curiosity.

But then she saw the looks and the glares that the many distrustful inhabitants of The Shire were giving her and ducked her head again, curtain of curls falling to cover her face. Bilbo, on the other hand, held his head up high, his grip on her hand tightening and his expression tightening in annoyance.

Bebother and confusticate hobbit's and their penchant for spreading gossip! He more than anyone knew how fast rumours could spread in a community like The Shire. By the next day, the whole of Hobbiton would be chattering about the crying, human girl who had simply appeared out of nowhere. And that, thought Bilbo irritatedly, was the last thing he needed at that moment.

He ignored the quiet whispers and the stares as he guided her deeper into The Shire, feeling their eyes follow him as he went.

"A child of man? In Hobbiton?"

"Look at what a mess the poor girl's in!"

"Isn't that Bilbo Baggins?"

The hobbit, much to his credit, only gave a sigh and walked faster. He wasn't entirely sure why, but somehow he had a feeling that his peaceful life as a the respectable owner of Bag End was about to come to an end.


Today's question:
Who's your favourite dwarf and why?