Once again, I don't own the Hobbit and I'm making no profit. I want to give a thank you to the anonymous reviewer that was so kind. As to the desire for a pairing, I'm afraid I really don't know how I'd include one. My main character is basically a fourteen year old, and I don't want to turn anyone into a pedophile. If I get enough interest in this story and enough of an idea for a plot, I may write a continuation, where Luin is included in the plot of LOTR. She should have grown up enough in sixty years. On the other hand, she would then be a fully grown Dragon, and thus pretty powerful...so headed into Mary Sue territory. I'm not sure I could find enough angst to make that story interesting. I could try, I guess. Let me know what you think. In the meantime, I should be posting to this story fairly frequently, so reviews and friendly criticism welcome people!
Luin was startled when she made it home from the market. She had thought Bilbo would still be sitting on his favorite bench, smoking. He had settled there this morning with the air of one who had no intention of moving for a while.
She contemplated her basket. They were planning another trip to the forest, and they meant to be gone almost two weeks this time. She had a few things for their packs, and she had been given a new dagger for Bilbo.
Apparently Old Proudfoot had been cleaning out his store room (or his wife had made him clean out his store room) and he'd found a few things he felt he had no use for.
The dagger had been a gift to one of his family from Bullroarer Took, and he didn't want his fauntlings getting ideas. Far better to pass it on to 'that strange Bilbo Baggins'.
While she might not have cared for the sentiment, she felt that Bilbo would appreciate it. Now, where was Bilbo? She entered the house, startled to find him lurking in the doorway.
"Bilbo? What on earth is the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost!"
"I might as well have. Do you remember the stories Mother would tell of her adventures and the Grey Wizard she often talked about? The one she wouldn't let you see when he came with fireworks? Well, he came by this morning and tried to get me to go on an adventure! Me! An adventure! Can you believe that!"
Luin caught his eye at that part, smirking. He paused, and shared a small unwilling smile of his own, thinking of all their 'adventures' in the woods. Then his face became more serious once again.
"Luin, I think he plans to come back. What do you think he'll do when he finds you here? You know Mother never wanted you to get mixed up with anyone outside the Shire. She didn't want anyone to hurt you, or try to use you. What are we going to do?"
He looked very worried by this point. Luin paused, thinking. He had a point, she knew. But she also knew that if she ever wanted to find out more about her father, that she would have to contact at least the elves.
She also knew that as much as she loved Bilbo, that she could not stay in the Shire forever. She was too different, and she wanted to be able to fly free. The Shire, while home, was becoming too small. She thought about what she knew of wizards. It wasn't much. There was no mention of them in Ashreth's book, and the other books they had didn't mention them often.
She was of the impression that there were several, but she didn't know how many. The books did portray them in a positive light, at least, and he had been a friend of Belladonna's. On the other hand, Belladonna herself hadn't wanted him to see her. She blew out a breath, then looked at Bilbo.
"There doesn't seem to be much of a choice, unless you want to leave on our trip right now. We have everything, so we could go. But from what I know of wizards, I doubt he's involved in something trivial. He most likely won't take no for an answer, at least until you know a bit more. Also, if Mother knew him he most likely knows the elves. We could take his reaction as a gauge of how they might react."
She paused, chewing her lower lip. She desperately wanted to meet him, but was also scared. She looked to Bilbo. They might be almost the same age, but she knew perfectly well that while he was approaching middle age, she was still just a child. She would listen if he thought it a horrible idea. Well, she would listen after doing everything she could short of outright begging, anyway.
Bilbo looked into his sister's eyes and sighed. There were the huge eyes, hope burning in their depths. He knew he should probably say no, indeed every bit of common sense he had was telling him it was quite likely a bad idea, but she did have a point. He had hoped to put this off a lot longer, but he knew she would leave eventually.
As he thought about it a bit more he realized that if he wanted to do this with her, he couldn't wait as long as he had hoped unless he wanted to be traipsing around in his old age. He sighed, then looked away.
"All right, Luin. We'll wait for the wizard. But if he makes the slightest sign that he knows what you are and he's going to hurt you, I want you to run. Don't think of me, and don't look back. I doubt he'd hurt me, so I should be fine. Promise me."
Luin squealed (something she rarely did) and squeezed him so hard he thought a rib might break. After solemnly promising to be careful, she went to her room to pack just in case she had to leave suddenly. As she went through all her things, she found her Books. She decided to leave them out. If she had to run and Bilbo needed to calm down the wizard, he might find all the knowledge on Dragon's useful.
Bilbo had been doing similarly, in case he needed to leave also. They met in the kitchen afterward to prepare dinner. They didn't speak of it as they made a larger dinner than usual in case the wizard came, but they were both very worried.
As it got late, they decided to sit down to eat. Luin was a little disappointed that it looked like the wizard wasn't going to make it. Just as they got comfortable, someone knocked rather loudly on the door. After a quick glance at each other, checking to make sure they were both ready, they went to open the door. What they saw there completely floored them.