AN UNEXPECTED ADVENTURE

Jeanne gave small Bilbo a look with worried eyes as she passed a hot cup of tea towards him while he sat in his comfy chair beside a burning fireplace.

"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked and sat across from him.

"I'll be all right. Just let me sit quietly for a moment."

"You've been sitting quietly for far too long." Gandalf protested with a smoking pipe in his hand. "Tell me, when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a young Hobbit who was always running off in search of Elves in the woods. Who would stay out late, come home after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young Hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps. It's out there." He gestured to the dark blue window where the sun has already made its descent beyond the hills.

"I can't just go running off into the blue." Bilbo shot back. "I am a Baggins of Bag-end."

Jeanne frowned. "It makes it sound like you're shackled to this place." She said with a slight smile. "It's your life, yes, but...what is the point of you can't take some risks."

"Jeanne is right." Gandalf smiled proudly at her. "Did you know that your great-great-great-great-uncle Bullroarer Took was so large, he could ride a real horse?"

"Yes."

"Yes, well, he could. In the Battle of Green Fields, he charged at the Goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard, he knocked the Goblin king's head clean off and it sailed 100 yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And thus, the battle was won. And the game of golf invented at the same time."

Jeanne frowned and looked up at him.

Bilbo shook his head. "I do believe you made that up."

Gandalf grabbed a chair and pulled it over. "Well, all good stories deserve embellishment. You'll have a tale or two to tell your own when you come back."

Bilbo scoffed. "Can you promise me that I will come back?"

Gandalf turned a bit grim. "No. And if you do...you will not be the same."

"That's what I thought." Bilbo sighed deeply and set his mug down. "Sorry, Gandalf, I can't sign this." He got up. "You've got the wrong Hobbit." he turned around and left the room.

Jeanne's eyes cast down to the burning fire. "I am not surprised that Bilbo wouldn't want to do something like this. The risk is rather high."

Gandalf gave a weak smile and chuckle a bit. "My dear Jeanne, why did you decide to partake in this adventure?" He knew Jeanne for a very long time and knew she hadn't set foot outside Valnora forest for over...who known how many years anymore.

Jeanne rolled up her sleeve and showed off her untouched white skin. She twisted her wrist around and just stared at it. "We all know that this body should have died a long time ago, yet I am still here. I'm sorry, Gandalf." She lowered her hand and sighed. "I didn't come here for anyone else's sake, but only for myself."

Gandalf knew that more then anyone and couldn't help to smile. "Your existence is a fragile one and a miracle too. You have to look out for yourself more than others. But for the next few months...I'm glad that you are here."

She got up from her chair and walked out of the room. She caught at the corner of her eyes, Thorin's piercing gaze burning into her. Jeanne smiled and closed her eyes as this low humming sound began to echo out from the Dwarves as they sang until dawn broke.

Bilbo's sleepy eyes finally broke open into the next day. He felt the sun on his face and heard the pleasant sound of the birds chirping, yet no Dwarves. It was quiet, to quiet for them. He got up from the bed and peeked his head around his hole and saw that everything was back in its place with nothing damaged like it was, to begin with. Still, no Dwarves.

"Hello?" Bilbo called out but silence only carried his voice. He felt relief as he walked through his now peaceful home before this bitterness sank into his skin when he found that the contract was still lying beside the fireplace where he last saw it. He saw Thorin's name, Gandalf, and Jeanne's printed right below the long list with one spot still open, the burglar's spot where his name should have been.

Bilbo busted out of his home on the green grass hills where the sun pierced his eyes. He had a pack on and was waving around the contact as he ran through the Shire as people gave him odd looks.

"Mr. Bilbo, where are you off too?" Someone called out to him as Bilbo ran.

"Can't stop, I'm already late!" He called back without stopping.

"Late for what?"

The biggest grin crept to Bilbo's face. "I'm going on an adventure!" Without stopping and without looking back, Bilbo left the Shire, his home behind.

The party was already making it through the thick woods on horseback when Bilbo's voice called out for them.

"Wait! Wait!"

Jeanne looked over her shoulder and saw young Bilbo running up to them. She smiled and let out a laugh. "Well, well. This is quite a pleasant surprise." She glanced over to Thorin and saw that he was surprised too, though most of it hidden behind a stoic mask.

"I signed it." Bilbo waved the contract around before handing it to Balin. "Here."

Balin smiled and looked at the signature with a glass. "Everything appears to be in order." He spoke cheerfully. "Welcome, Master Baggins...to the company of Thorin Oakenshield." There were some claps and even laughed spread across the party.

Thorin shook his head. "Give him a pony."

Bilbo immediately felt worry in his tight chest. "No, no, that won't be necessary. Thank you. I'm sure I can keep up on foot." He rambled on when it was obvious he never rode a horse before when Fili and Kili grabbed him as they passed by.

Bilbo sat stiffly on the pony he was given and held the reins and his arms up way too high. Every time the horse would neigh too he would flinch. Jeanne was even trying to help him how to handle a pony too.

Bilbo noticed that the Dwarves began to pass pouches of money back and forth with each other. "What's that about?" He asked.

"Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up," Gandalf explained. "Most of them bet that you wouldn't."

"And what did you think?" Bilbo asked the elderly Wizard.

."Well..." Suddenly Gandalf caught a pouch of money that came flying at him. He laughed. "My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second."

Bilbo suddenly hunched over and sneezes. "It's horse hair. Having a reaction." He grumbled and searched around for a handkerchief. "No, wait, wait, stop!" He called to the party as they came to a halt. "Stop! We have to turn around."

Jeanne frowned. "Why? What's wrong?"

"I forgot my handkerchief," Bilbo said in a bit of a panic.

"Here." Bofur then suddenly chuck an old looking rag over to Bilbo. "Use this."

Bilbo flinched when he felt the wet and grimy rag in his hand and didn't dare to smell it.

Thorin ordered the company to continue and they carried on.

Bilbo would have to get used to not having things like a handkerchief, for the world outside the little hills of the Shire was much more rough living than anything he could possibly imagine. From heavy rainfall that would only cease for an hour, and the steep, rocky trails that were laid out in front of them.

The night time was not kind to Jeanne and she found it hard to sleep with this heavy sensation in her chest that made her skin burn. Bilbo couldn't sleep either with Bombur's heavy snoring while sucking in moths in and out through his nose. He decided to give up for now and get up, stretched out his limbs. Jeanne watched him as he walked over to the pony was riding.

"Hello, girl. Who's a good girl?" He said fondly and petted her. Bilbo reached into his red coat pocket and pulled out an apple. "It's our little secret, Myrtle."

A weak smile crept to Jeanne's lips and she pulled her hood up further over her face and leaned back against the tree her and Gandalf were sitting against. Her heart dropped when she heard a distant screeching sound off in the endless valley.

Bilbo shuddered. "What was that?" He looked over to Fili and Kili who were still up, faces morphed with minor concern.

"Orcs," Kili said.

"Orcs?" Bilbo rushed back over to the group as Thorin raised his head at the mention of the name.

"Throat-cutters," Fili said ominously. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The Lone-lands are crawling with them."

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams. Just a lot of blood."

They watched as Bilbo's face was drained of all color before they couldn't hold it in anymore and begin to snicker.

Jeanne frowned and instinctively pulled her sleeves further down her arms and tucked her legs to her chest. Gandalf smiled a bit and patted her on the shoulder to ease her worry.

Thorin spoke up harshly to them. "You think that's funny? You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"

"We didn't mean anything by it," Kili said.

"No, you didn't. You know nothing of the world." He narrowed his eyes and walked off far from the group to look over the edge.

Balin walked up to them as Thorin left. "Don't mind him, Laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs." He spoke grimly. "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient Dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first."

Jeanne looked over to Balin as he spoke of the old tale that caused pain in his voice, seeing how he was part of it too and witnessed the whole thing. She got up off the ground and walked over to the fire to listen in with curious eyes.

"Moria has been taken by legions of Orcs...led by the most vile of all their race: Azog the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began..." Balin swallowed hard. "By beheading the king."

Jeanne felt her heart up in her throat and forgot the breathe for a moment. To even imagine coming face to face with such a Orc made her blood run cold.

"Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing. Taken prisoner or killed. We do not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us." he then began to smile and look of to Thorin. "That is when I saw him. A young Dwarf prince...facing down the pale Orc. He stood alone against his terrible foe. He armors rent and wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azof the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces railed and drove back the Orcs. And our enemy has been defeated. But there was no feast, nor song that night...for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then...there is one I could follow. There is one...I could call king."

Jeanne sucked in the cold air before speaking. "And the pale Orc. What happened to him?"

Thorin marched over back to the camp and spoke in a menacing tone along with eyes that burned into hers. "He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago."

Jeanne wanted to trust his words that the pale Orc, Azog was dead, but something in her heart said otherwise. Her hands trembled and burned for some reason and she couldn't help...to have nightmares that night about facing down that pale Orc upon frozen waters in the dead of winter.