Three days later...

I was weeding the garden when I heard somone come up the lane. At once, Bilbo said, "Good morning!" as was proper Hobbit manners.

A slow gruff voice answered, "What do you mean? Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it ir not; or that you feel especially good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"

The new voice paused, and I could almost hear Bilbo's smile, "all of them at once! And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobbacco out of doors, into the bargain. If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine! There's no hurry, we have all the day before us!"

I grinned at Bilbo's perfect manners, and stifled a giggle at how happy he sounded. He had woken up in much the same good mood this morning. I had come out of my room to find him bustling about the kitchen baking seed cakes and singing to himself.

I saw the last wisps of one of Bilbo's impressive smoke rings float away when the stranger said, "very pretty! But I have no time to blow smoke rings this morning." I thought, at the time, that this reply to Bilbo's hospitality very rude. I was soon to learn that it was the way of things with this stranger.

The stranger spoke again, "I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone." at the word adventure, I had slipped behind the rose bush next to the house and settled myself behind it to spy on the stranger.

To my surprise, the man was old with a great grey beard and a pointy blue hat that reached to the sky. The old man also had a large wooden walking stick that twisted at the top, and he was wearing long grey robes that drug on the ground.

Bilbo piped up, "I should think so!- In these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can't think what anybody sees in them." I frowned, I didn't think an adventure sounded too bad. Though, I blanched at the thought of missing dinner. I watched in horror as Bilbo pulled out his morning papers, completely dismissing the stranger without even a nod of his head!

Mortified at Bilbo's sudden lack of manners, I watched the face of the old man. He just smiled and stared at Bilbo, a sort of knowing look on his face. Bilbo seemed to get a bit flustered under his gaze and again to my horror, snapped, "Good morning! We don't want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water."

I rubbed my face in exhasperation, causing the rose bush to rustle. "What a lot of things you do use 'good morning' for!" the stranger sounded a bit exhasperated himself, now. "Now you mean that you want to get rid of me, and that it won't be good till I move off."

As I moved to stand, Bilbo tried to recover by saying, "not at all, not at all, my dear sir! Let me see, I don't think I know your name?"

The stranger let out a chuckle, "yes, yes my dear sir!- And I do know your name, Mr. Bilbo Baggins. And you do know my name, though you don't remember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me! To think that I should have lived to be 'good-morninged' by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!"

I brushed off my skirt but paused upon hearing the name Gandalf. Mr. Proudfoot had spoken of him once, but I couldn't remember what it was he'd said. I was quite surprised when I heard Bilbo say, "Gandalf, Gandalf! Good gracious me! Not the wandering wizard who-"

I stopped listening and instead focused on the fact that this Gandalf was a wizard. I'd never seen one, that I knew of, and I had no idea what it was that a wizard did. I stepped out from behind the rose bush, hearing only snippets of a conversation about Gandalf's firewo-... Suddenly Mr. Proudfoot's words about Gandalf came floating back at me, "these fireworks are good, but Gandalf the Grey's were always much better..."

I peered around the rose bush my ears trained back on the conversation. "I beg your pardon, but I had no idea you were still in business," Bilbo tapped his lips with his now empty pipe.

"Where else should I be?" Gandalf chuckled again. "All the same I am pleased to find you remember something about me. You seem to remember my fireworks kindly, at any rate, and that is not without hope. Indeed for your old Grandfather Took's sake, and for the sake of poor Belladonna, I will give you what you asked for."

Bilbo brought his head up a little in confusion, "I beg your pardon, I haven't asked for anything!"

Gandalf shook his head, smiling, "yes, you have! Twice now. My pardon. I give it you. In fact I will go so far as to send you on this adventure. Very amusing for me, very good for you- and profitable too, very likely if you ever get over it..."

Suddenly, I found myself staring directly in the very blue eyes of the wizard. "And who is your little gardener, my dear Bilbo?" Gandalf then gestured with his staff to me and Bilbo turned his head in surprise.

"Laerwen?! How long have you been there?!" Bilbo was looking from me to Gandalf and then back again.

"I-I-not very long..." I stuttered a soft reply, mortified that I'd been caught. I shuffled my bare feet against the grass.

Gandalf looked at me strangely, "Laerwen? Is that Elvish?"

I blushed, "I'm sorry sir, I do not know."

Gandalf's gaze turned to one of interest, "Intriguing."

I twiddled my thumbs behind my back as Gandalf turned back to Bilbo, "My dear Bilbo, are you going to join me on this adventure of mine?"

Bilbo turned to the wizard, sputtering, "Sorry! I don't want any adventures, thank you. Not today. Good morning! But please come to tea- Anytime you like! Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow! Goodbye! Come Laerwen!" And with that Bilbo stalked into Bag-End and shut the door behind me, but not before I gave Gandalf a small, apologetic smile. The grey wizard returned my smile with a slight nod and a tiny, knowing smirk of his own. I decided right then that I liked this strange man who called himself a wizard.

The next morning...

I woke to the sounds of birds chirping at my window, and I fairly hopped out of bed to pull on a pretty pink dress and pin up my unruly hair in a simple white and gold hair scarf. I ran outside and breathed in the fresh scent of the dew and drew my shawl around my shoulders. Finding myself walking to the garden, I picked a few mint leaves for my morning tea and strode back inside.

I turned to the cabinets after having set the water to boil, and pulled out a large bowl. Soon after, I rummaged through the pantry until I found everything I needed to start a batch of seed cakes. Bilbo came out of his room rubbing his eyes sleepily when the scent of the cakes wafted through the air.

"What in all of Middle Earth are you doing up so -yawn- early?"

I smiled at my adoptive father, "making cakes and pies to bring to the neighbors."

"Why on earth are you doing that?"

"Because it seemed a nice thing to do!" I turned back to the recipe book I had been reading and huffed. "It appears this recipe requires fresh eggs, and we seem to be out of them." I slapped my hands together to remove most of the flour, and walked to the mantel where our small money box rested. Pulling out a few gold coins, I turned to the coat pegs and pulled on my green coat. "I'm going to the market Bilbo, I shant be long!"

Bilbo gaved me a confused look, sleep still in his eyes, but then he shrugged his shoulders and said, "is that mint tea in the pot?"

I giggled, "yes Bilbo, see you later!" I walked out the door and ran down the lane. Not even the sharp rocks beneath my feet could deterr my wonerful mood! Why was I in such a good mood?

I honestly have no idea.

After the market...

Walking back through the door, I found Bilbo looking at me, his eyes full of wonder. "H-how many seed cakes did you make?!"

I laughed, "Twenty! And I'm about to make twenty pies!"

Bilbo nearly fainted, "do you really need to make so many?"

I pouted, "I'm having a wonderful day Bilbo, and I feel like making others happy as well! And if you don't mind, I'm going to make a huge feast for dinner as well!"

"What?! Why?!"

I shook my head, "We are having company you know!"

"But that was only tea!"

"Yes I know, but I have a feeling that we are going to need more than tea Bilbo." I almost never got the feeling I suddenly had in my stomach, but when I did, it was usually accurate.

This Bilbo knew, so he just shook his head and retreated to his study. Laughing silently at his back, I returned to the kitchen and my pies.

Later that afternoon...

"Thank you, Laerwen!" Mrs. Premula Burrows patted my hand and took the pie from my fingers. "We always love getting your famous blackberry pies!"

I smiled sheepishly. Up until a few years ago, I had never recieved many compliments, so when they came, I hardly knew what to do with myself. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Burrows! I hope you have a lovely day!"

"Thank you so much, my dear! And you as well!" Mrs. Burrows smiled before she slowly shut the purple door.

As I was walking back to Bilbo's house, a male Hobbit stopped me in the road. "Miss Laerwen! Are you giving out your famous pies and cakes again?" I turned to see Moro Brownlock, an aging Hobbit that kept a beautiful herb garden. "You must allow me to ask for one!"

I laughed, making the old Hobbit smile, "Sure Mr. Underhill! would you like an apple pie, or a seed cake?"

"You are too good to me, girl!" the elderly man chuckled. "Alright, a seed cake then!"

I handed him one out of my basket and he left, a smile on his face, "Thank you again, Miss Laerwen! You are just too kind to and old Hobbit!"

With a renewed spring in my step, I proceeded to Bilbo's house, only to find him in his study, poring over his newest novel. With a slight smirk, I noticed it was an adventure story. "Bilbo, I'm back!"

"Oh, alright!"

"I met Mr. Brownlock on the road."

"Did you now? Did he take a pie again?"

"No, a seedcake."

"He's quite fond of those isn't he?"

"That he is..." I paused by the opening to his study. "Bilbo?"

"Yes?" He finally looked up at me. "What's wrong?"

I sighed, choosing my words carefully, "Was that man, Gandalf, serious about going on an

adventure?"

Bilbo's face went pale, and immediately I regretted asking. Bilbo turned to look out the window, his face suddenly wistful, "Y-yes... I think he was..." I left Bilbo to his thoughts.

Later that evening...

I was in the middle of making a stew when the first knock came. I listened as Bilbo opened the door and heard a rough accented voice say, "Dwalin... At your service."

I giggled as Bilbo fiddled with his dressing gown and said, "Bilbo Baggins at yours." Then Bilbo scuttled backwards as heavy footsteps walked through the door, "D-do we know each other?"

"No," I heard the laugh in the tone of this mysterious Dwalin's voice. I peeked around the corner but whipped back into the kitchen when I saw who this Dwalin was... He was a Dwarf!

I retreated into the hall, trying to remain unseen, then tiptoed into my room. If there was a guest like this then I was going to make the right impression! I washed my face, my hands and my feet, tossed on my red dress, tied my hair in a midnight blue hair scarf, and clasped my new gold chain around my neck. I then grabbed a clean emerald green apron from the laundry hamper and tiptoed back into the kitchen.

Dwalin was sitting at the table eating one of my seed cakes, a mug of ale in front of him. As I turned back to the pot of stew above the fire, another knock sounded. I let Bilbo get the door again, I was far too nervous to be seen just yet.

A soft, older voice swept down the hall, making me smile immediately, "Balin, at your service!" Whoever they were they sounded like a wonderful person! I started giggling when I watched Balin and Dwalin's reunion. Supposedly they were brothers, one tall and muscular, with tattoos and furs, the other short, wide, with white hair and a scholarly look. When they saw each other they butted heads, not even phased after the harsh contact.

I tried to contain my mirth at Bilbo's reaction; he was sitting by the open door still, sputtering at how they had walked in uninvited. I heard him saying something about how he rather liked having guests but he preferred to know who they were and when they were coming before they appeared at his doorstep.

I turned to the cabinets, taking down glass after glass, sensing that these two were not alone. My gut had yet again been right when another louder knock resounded. Bilbo opened the door, only for us both to hear, "Fili... and Kili... at your service!" There were two this time! and they sounded young!

I could hardly keep from dropping the glass in my hand when one of them spoke, "you must be Mr. Boggins!" I almost melted at the low resonance of the Dwarf's voice. I could care less if he had pronounced Bilbo's name wrong, I just wanted to hear him speak again. My wish was soon granted when he said, "What?! has it been cancelled?!" I almost cried at the dissapointment in his voice.

The dwarf accompanying him spoke next, "nobody told us!"

Bilbo stuttered for a second before saying, "no! nothings be-nothings been cancelled!"

"That's a reflief!" My stomach flipped when I heard the dwarves enter the hall. One dwarf, the one without the deep voice, said to Bilbo, "Careful with these, I've just had them sharpened," to which Bilbo gave a slight 'oof'.

I giggled when the one with the deep voice said, "Nice place this! do it yeself?"

"N-no, it's been in the family for years- That is my mother's glory box! Could you please not do that!"

All of a sudden, Dwalin barrelled into the hall, "Fili, Kili! Come on, give us a hand!"

"Mister Dwalin!" The one with the deep voice came into veiw, Dwalin's meaty hand on his shoulder. I couldn't help but gape at him from the shadows. The dwarf with the glorious voice was beautiful! He was simply perfect! He had shoulder length ebony locks, tan skin, gorgeous moss brown eyes, and dark stubble on his face and halfway down his neck. I was smitten from the first glance.

I broke out of my reverie when Balin said, "Let's shove this in the hallway, or we'll never get everyone in!"

"Everyone?! How many more are there?!" Bilbo's stressed tones made me glad I was hidden in the shadows of the kitchen. I did give a nervous smile though, when Bilbo suddenly yelled at the calling bell, shouting how no one was home, how there were too many dwarves in his dining room and how if this was some sort of a joke he was not amused.

When he opened the door, a huge crash resounded and the stomping of many dwarves came from the hall. A whispered, "Gandalf," made me perk up my ears. Gandalf was here?! Finally! I wiped my hands on my apron, and then thought better of showing myself to the dwarves just yet. I waited until they were all seated at the table before bringing out platters of turkey and bread.

When I stepped into the room, all conversation hushed, much to my embarressment. I set down each tray without so much as a clink against the table and retreated silently into the kitchen to spoon stew into the mass of bowls on trays. The roar of conversation that had stopped when I entered returned as only a slight murmur. I was horrified! I was paranoid they were talking about something I had done, or hadn't done.

My face was beet red when I returned to the dining room, my arms full of bowls of stew. I set one in front of each of the dwarves, the silence again deafening. The dwarf called Balin was the first to speak to me. He gave me a small smile and said, "thank you milady!"

I blushed and returned his smile, continuing to place bowls of stew on the table. As I set the last one down I noticed that half of the dwarves had already dug in, and exclamations of approval reached my pink ears.

"This is the food of legend!"

"I doubt Bombur could make anything better!"

"How does it taste so divine?!"

"And I thought the turkey was good!"

My face must have been as red as a tomato when Gandalf finally caught my eye. He gave me a slight nod of approval and a quick smile before I ducked back into the kitchen. I was glad the

Dwarves ilked my cooking, usually the only one I cooked for was Bilbo, and I only ever baked for Bilbo and the neighbors.

I took a deep breath and brought out my freshest pies, still hot out of the oven. One was strawberry rhumbarb and the other was blackberry. I set them down and slowly cut them, dishing them out when the roar of conversation again lulled. I was so proud of myself when I noticed the pies had turned out perfectly! The crusts were flaky and light and the fillings were thick and gooey. I couldn't help but flash a proud smile at the empty pie dishes.

I brushed a hand against my forehead, a satisfied smirk on my face when I noticed a Dwarf with a funny hat looking at me strangely. "Milady," he said. "These pies are simply amazing!"

I blushed, "thank you very much, Mr.?" I paused unsure of what his name was.

Luckily he came to my rescue with an attractive smile, "Bofur, milady."

"Thank you Bofur, I'm glad you like them." I smiled at him and blanched a little internally when the dwarf's cheeks turned slightly pink.

"Gloin's the name, milady, and that stew you brought us earlier was great too!"

"Nori, milady, and it wasn't just great, it was brilliant!"

A chorus of 'ayes' followed, making me blush deeper. I brushed my hair scarf over my shoulder when another dwarf spoke, "Aye, your cooking is divine, but I don't believe we know your name."

I looked in the direction of the voice, seeing another white haired dwarf sitting next to a very young looking dwarf. I felt the smile fall from my face. I didn't know how much the dwarves like Elves, seeing as my name was Elvish.

Gandalf saved me, "Master dwarves, I hope you will allow me to properly introduce you." He turned to me and smiled reassuringly, "this, my friends, is lady Laerwen, a human that has been staying with our gracious little host, who I believe is gawking at his empty pantry." He then gestured to the dwarf closest to me, a smallish, young looking dwarf with a slingshot hanging out of his pocket, "this is Ori."

The next one was the dwarf who had asked me my name, Dori he was. Beyond him were Gloin, a fierce looking red haired and bearded dwarf, and Oin, a grey haired and robed dwarf with an ear trumpet. Going on down the line Gandalf pointed out Nori, with hair that looked like a star, Dwalin, the burly dwarf from earlier, Balin, the nice elderly one, Bofur, the one with the charming smile and delightful accent, Bifur, who had an axe in his head, and Bombur, with a rather rotund waistband.

Gandalf then gave me a slightly knowing smile and introduced the last two dwarves on the end. "And these... are Fili," He pointed to a blonde dwarf with extremely handsome features and a glorious blonde and braided beard. "And Kili." I conciously had to keep my jaw from dropping at the sight of the deep voiced dwarf from earlier.

I felt my neck go hot when his gaze reached mine, and I hardly heard the combined, "Pleasure to meet you, Lady Laerwen" that echoed from each of the dwarves. Suddenly Bilbo appeared out of nowhere and the roar of conversation resumed. I was now introduced and apparently they were all a little more comfortable with me. I turned to see Gandalf smiling down at a flustered Bilbo.

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them!" I giggled and escaped to the sitting room for some quiet.

I heard a frustrated huff and then Bilbo snapped, "I don't understand what they're doing in my house!"

Another, smaller voice answered, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?" I almost cried at the politeness of the dwarf, whom I suspected to be Ori.

"Here you go Ori, give it to me." I reached the arch of the sitting room just as the blonde dwarf, Fili, threw one of Bilbo's best plates down the hall. I sighed in relief when Kili caught it, pipe in one hand, plate in the other. But I gasped again and covered my eyes when Kili threw it into the kitchen. Upon not hearing breaking glass, I peeked through my fingers.

Bilbo's strained voice shouted, "Don't throw them! They're over a hundred years old!" Then he positively shrieked at the rest of the dwarves who were sort of having a miniature sword fight with the knives and forks, "Don't do that, you'll blunt them!"

I smiled slightly when Bofur said, "Oh, you hear that lads? He says we'll blunt the knives!" I just about fainted after Kili began singing, "Blunt the knives, bend the forks!"

Fili took up the song, "mash the bottles, burn the corks!"

The other dwarves began singing too, "chip the glasses and crack the plates! That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

The song continued:

"Cut the cloth, tread on the fat!

Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!

Pour the milk on the pantry floor!

splash the wine on every door!"

"Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;

pound them up with a thumping pole;

And when you've finished, if any are whole,

Send them down the hall to roll!"

"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

I laughed with glee as Kili and Fili and the other dwarves tossed dish after dish into the air, propelling them into the kitchen where Bifur caught them all without looking and washed them. I just about fell over when I saw Bilbo's face after he'd seen the dishes all washed and neatly stacked on the table. I then retreated into my room to get ready for bed.

Wiping the mirth from my eyes, I began to undress, hoping that no one would be able to see through the sheet I had hung over the archway to my room. I slipped out of my dress and returned it to my wardrobe, unclasped my necklace and put it on my dresser, took out my prettiest and most favored night gown, and slipped out of my chemise.

It being a rather chilly night, I quickly slid into my nightgown and pulled on my thin white silk robe after it, tying it securely around my tiny waist. I then undid my hair scarf, and rehid my locks in a light pink one, making quite sure no hair was showing.

While I was moving about my bedroom, I heard a loud knocking at the door and thought to myself, "who on earth could it be at this hour?" Listening closer, I heard the name Thorin Oakenshield and something about a burgalur. Tuning it out, I felt a small thought slither through my mind. I suddenly got the feeling I was supposed to pack, and so pack I did, lightly, taking only what I really needed or couldn't be without.

I packed a small mirror, three hair scarves, my gold chain, a white cotton shirt and undershirt, brown trousers which had been specially made for me when I started to ride the grocer's pony, a dark green handkerchief, my favorite detail brush and travel sized pot of black ink, my hairbrush, my herb satchel, my womanly cloths, and the book on how to make your own ink in the wild.

I looked over my things, checking to see if there was anything else I needed to bring, and rememebered I needed money. I then strode over to my dresser, pulled out my colorful coinpurse and dropped it into the sack. I had been saving money here and there from various things, so that if I needed it in such a time as this at least I would have something. I promtly checked my satchel one last time and shoved it under my bed and out of sight.

Feeling rather accomplished, I listened to the goings on in the dining room, until suddenly I heard something fall. Realizing that if it was important someone would have said something, I went back to my mirror. Finding that my hair scarf was still in place, I strode through the hall to the kitchen to make myself some mint tea. I stepped lightly into the kitchen where, to my utmost surprise, I found Gandalf and another, unfamilar Dwarf.

Gandalf looked at me with a tight smile and said, "Thorin, I would like you to meet Laerwen, Bilbo's ward. Laerwen, let me introduce you to Thorin Oakenshield, leader and king to the company of Dwarves currently in your dining room."

I took in this new Dwarf's appearance as he took in mine. I must say, he was almost as beautiful as Kili. He had raven colored hair slightly streaked with grey, gorgeously stormy blue-grey eyes, noble cheek bones, and the bearing of the king he was.

"Are you an Elf?"

I blanched both at his question and his wonderfully husky voice. "I-I'm no Elf, Lord Thorin... even if my name implies otherwise..." I blinked and took a deep breath before curtsying and saying, "It was a pleasure meeting you Lord Thorin. Please help yourself to anything that is left in the pantry or here in the kitchen."

The Dwarf king looked at me in silence before giving me a curt nod, "thank you lady Laerwen, your hospitality is much appreciated."

I blushed and then made my way quickly over to the cabinet and pulled down a mug. I promptly filled it with the water from the teakettle near the oven, put in my cloth bag of mint leaves and quickly left the kitchen, feeling the eyes of Thorin and Gandalf on me the entire time.

I heaved a great sigh before going into Bilbo's study to find a decent book. Not locating one, I sat heavily onto his window seat and sipped my tea, thinking of the past events of this evening. I smiled when I remembered Kili's handsome face. How I wanted to touch those beautiful cheekbones and run my fingers over the silver clasp he had in his hair.

Shakng my head to clear it of such inappropriate thoughts, I listened to the goings on in the kitchen. Hearing only a low hum, I left my window seat only to see that the Dwarves were huddled around the fireplace in the sitting room. I listened closer and found that they were humming. I felt my insides go soft and warmth go through my entire body. I never wanted that sound to end.

I thought that nothing could be more beautiful than that, but I was soon proved wrong. Just then, Thorin began singing.

"Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day

To seek the pale enchanted gold."

"The Dwarves of yore made mighty spells,

While hammers fell like ringing bells

In places deep, where dark things sleep,

In hollow halls beneath the fells."

"For ancient King and Elvish Lord

There many a gleaming golden hoard

They shaped and wrought, and light they caught

To hide in gems on hilts of sword."

"On silver necklaces they strung

The flowering stars, on crowns they hung

The dragon-fire, in twisted wire

They meshed the light of moon and sun."

"Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away, ere break of day,

To claim our long-forgotten gold."

"Goblets the carved there for themselves

And harps of gold; where no man delves

There lay they long, and many a song

Was sung unheard my Men or Elves."

"The pines were roaring on the height,

The winds were moaning in the night.

The fire was red, it flaming spread;

The trees like torches blazed with light."

I felt my eyes droop, and suddenly had the urge to start singing filled my entire soul. I could not control my body as I opened my mouth and closed my eyes. A beautiful sound leapt from my throat, just as magestic and haunting as Thorin's voice. I heard a lull in the humming as the other Dwarves listened but my mind took no heed. I felt myself stand, as if in a dream, and I slowly walked into the sitting room.

I felt the eyes of all the Dwarves and Gandalf on me as I stood in the archway, singing from the depths of my soul. I didn't know at the time but I had tears cascading down my face. I just let the wordless sound flow from my lungs.

"The bells were ringing in the dale

And men looked up with faces pale;

The dragon's ire more fierce than fire

Laid low their towers and houses frail."

"The mountain smoked beneath the moon;

The Dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.

They fled their hall to dying fall

Beneath his feet, beneath the moon."

"Far over the misty mountains grim

To dungeons deep and caverns dim

We must away, ere break of day,

To win our harps and gold from him!"

When they stopped singing, so did I, our last notes ringing in the air. And then... I fainted.