Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nope, Hobbit is not mine. If it were than Thorin, Kili, and Fili would not die. They would live! THEY WOULD LIVE! But sadly, I don't own Hobbit. But I write this fanfic for amusement, and I hope all you will enjoy it.

Summary: A mistake as a child leaves Elizabeth cursed, and if she falls…so shall the Durin line.

Pairings: Eventual Thorin/OC, Biblo/? (I am open to suggestions on Bilbo's pairing since I haven't anything in mind yet.)

Verse: It will be a mixture of the book and movie, but probably will lean more towards the movie since it's the one I know most about. I've only read half of the book so far.

Warning: Eventual nightmares, torture, sexual themes and more

I want to thank BloodBlackAlchemist, Gingah18, LuvWolves4ever, Wolves of Midnight, chrisd1016929, dianaemrys15, nbowles, Goalphabeticalorder, MYSTERYGEEK, Neewa, ThaliaHuntressGrace, Tiryn, aeriestar, , MissVanora, Prost, TerribleSuccubus, izatelles, jorja85, SprinklingStardust0596, Voletta97, gallant2195, Zinverai, and THE WALKING sexy AMC for the follows! Thank you!

I also want to thank dianaemrys15, Tiryn, ThaliaHuntressGrace, TerribleSuccubus, MissVanora and Goalphabeticalorder, jorja85, Voletta97, gallant2195, and DrAnime203 for the favs.

And I am giving a special thanks to the reviewers, Guest, TerribleSuccubus, and Prost.

If I missed anyone just shout out at me in a review, or PM. :D

Guest Reviews:

Guest: Thank you! :D

"Regular Talking"

'Thought will be set up like this.'

"Elvish words and translation will be in italic." I've tried to use as much elvish from reliable sights as I could to get an authentic feel. Some things I don't have elvish for, but they will still be in italics so consider it elvish."

I struggled a bit with this chapter, on top of my dog having a heart attack (she's good now, she'll have to be on medicine for the rest of her life, but she's back to herself playing and cuddling), I ended up writing it out three different ways and in the end, I wanted to set up the sibling relationship between Bilbo and Elizabeth, and then wanted to bring in one dwarf at the end. You'll probably guess him just by his description.

Anyways I want to thank you all for the support. I'm really happy with the turn out for this story! :D

CHAPTER FOUR

"To A Hobbit's House She Goes"

T.A. 2911 Winterfall

The Shire

White. For as far as the eye could see.

A sea of ice and snow showering down from the dark grey clouds billowing above, and it seemed never ending. A Fell Winter had fallen over the Shire, and it had come bearing no mercy. It started out as a great chill, sweeping down from the north carried upon foreboding dark clouds. It came too soon, too sudden. Stealing and destroying the majority of the crops that would have tided them over for the winter, and the hobbits were so unprepared. They scrambled trying to get firewood, to preserve the food for as long as they could even if it meant cutting down the seven meals into three. They had thought that was the worst and then the Brandywine had froze over.

And wolves descended upon the Shire.

And on the curtails of the wolves, came the orcs and wargs.

Screams and howls filled the night and the nightmares of every hobbit. And it was not just the chill that sent shivers down Bilbo Baggins's spine as he curled into the tree, trying to block the wind and hide from any wolves-or worse-that were lurking out in the white.

His parents and him were making their way to Brandybuck Hall, the only safe haven in the Shire after the last of their supplies dwindled down. In the white blizzard storm, they held each others hands trying to hurry when howls, he had jumped. Gotten scared and jerked his hand out of his mother's. He grasped, and cried out, trying to find her again.

But in his panic, he had gotten lost. He heard their shouts, but it had become lost in the howling wind and their shadows lost in the white snow. The pain in his limbs was a freezing burn, and it was the only thing keeping him awake. The unblemished stretch of white had numbed his mind, and he was lying there in a daze. For a long time, he sat there clinging to that tree hearing phantom voice rising in the wind.

He was delirious, he thought hysterically. He had lost track of the time, the minutes felt like eternity and yet at the same time like nothing at all. He feared he would never seen the end of this winter, never see home again…never see his parents…The twenty one year old hobbit sobbed, his tears frozen against his cheeks. When he saw a deer trekking through the storm, it took him several seconds to comprehend the sight before him. It was the first deer he had seen since the winter had begun.

His vision began to go dark at the edges and his head bobbed up and down. The deer stared at him for a seconds longer before bounding away. Through the waves of fatigue and weakness he thought he saw a flash of green in the sea of white, like an ivy vine striding towards him. His felt his eyes close, and blackness engulfed him for many seconds then jolted when he felt two hands on his shoulders. At first, all he saw was green, then his eyes focused on the face beneath the green cowl. A pair of eyes, with unnatural black stems and vivid blues and yellow, staring down at him kindly. He saw the woman's mouth, she was far too fair to be a man, move, but he couldn't hear a word she said. The hood of her green cloak covered her hair, and he reached up to touch the cloth. "You're not a plant," he stated, bluntly.

The woman smiled, a light laugh falling from her lips. "Indeed I am not," she said, her head cocking to the side. "But you are the hobbit Bilbo Baggins yes?"

"Yes…?" Bilbo felt very confused. "Who…who are you?"

"A friend."

And Bilbo's world went dark.

T.A. 2941 Springston

The Shire

Many years had come and gone, but the Shire seemed impervious to time. Grassy hills as far as the eye could see, and the utter sense of peace one could find just by simply strolling on through. Those who inhabited this land were called hobbits. Short, pointy eared and hairy feet beings who lived in holes. Not dirty, worm filled holes like everyone believe. Hobbits were right were right and proper. Bilbo Baggins was such an a hobbit. He was as hobbitish as a hobbit could be, with his curly blond hair, pointed ears and modest clothing (not to mention his hairy feet, can't be a hobbit without hairy feet). He took comfort in the simple things such as smoky his Old Toby and food. There was only one slight thing that made Bilbo different from any of the other hobbits, and it was kind of a big deal. Not to him, but others in the Shire (cough cough Lobelia) it was.

With a shake of his head, Bilbo banished his not so beloved cousin from his mind, closing his eyes slipping off into a deep reprieve. Today he was going to relax, and enjoy it and not spare them another thought. He inhaled from his pipe and immediately he felt himself unwind and slumped upon the bench. He breathed out, forming a perfect smoke ring if he did say so himself. It drew upward, further and further then the most peculiar thing happened. The smoke transformed into a smoke moth, that fluttered around. Bilbo sat unaware of what was going until the smoke moth, flew into his face. Bilbo lets out a little gasp of surprise and sputtered in an undignified manner. He abruptly halted when he noticed a shadow looming over him, and he looked up to see a man-impossible tall at that-draped in grey cloak, and with a pointed hat on top of his head. He stood with a staff clasped in his hands, and he looked down at Bilbo with a strange twinkle in his eye.

Bilbo stared, perturbed up at the face and he felt a bit uncomfortable underneath such a knowing stare. However uncomfortable he was, he still was polite. "Good morning," he said, giving the man a half-hearted attempt at a smile. He glanced inside the house and wished his friend would be out here soon giving him a reason to get away without appearing impolite.

"What do you mean?" The old man said, tilting his head and giving Bilbo a calculating glance while his lips twitched up into a pleasant smile. "Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or, perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning?" The man's smile widened when Bilbo looked more and more perplexed. "Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"

Bilbo paused, his brows furrowing ever so slightly as his smile fell into a confused frown. "All…of them at once I suppose," he said, uncertainly. He is even more bewildered when the man looked down at him with a hint of disapproval in his grey eyes. Bilbo nervously fiddled with his pipe, and asked, "Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen," the old man said, his voice almost a whisper. He drew himself upward, and smiled at the hobbit. "I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure."

"An adventure?" Bilbo's eyes widened before he could help himself and he felt a brief spark of interest rise in his chest. Then he realized what he was doing, and schooled his expression into a scowl. "Now, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things," he said, adding a condescending note to his voice to hide the slight tremble that went through him. Perhaps, she was right and he was more like his mother than he cared to admit.

No! No! Absolutely not! He quickly rose from his bench and made his way to the mailbox. "Make you late for dinner," he added, pulling the mail out of the mailbox. He looked through the mail, trying to appear busy and he sends shifty glances at the old man who was still standing there waiting ever patiently. "Well…well…good morning," Bilbo repeated, and turned to head back inside.

He heard a huff from the old behind him. "To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son," the old man grumbled, hiding a smile when Bilbo halted in step, "as if I were selling buttons at the door."

He froze as still as a statue, his heart sputtered in his chest at the mention of his mother. Slowly Bilbo turned back around. "I'm sorry," he said, with a light frown. "Do I know you?"

"Well, you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it. I'm Gandalf! And Gandalf means…me," the old man finished, with a slightly sheepish.

"Gandalf…" the name sparked something within Bilbo's memory of fireworks bursting in the night sky and it all came rushing back. "Not Gandalf, the wandering wizard, who made such excellent fireworks! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve!" He grinned slightly, and then his mouth kept running before he could stop it. "I have no idea you were still in business."

Gandalf had looked pleased until that came out of the hobbits mouth, and the wizard stared at him with an indignant expression. "And where else would I be?" He asked, arching a brow.

Bilbo opened his mouth, a sheepish blush staining his cheeks and he looked down at his hairy feet which had suddenly become all the more interesting.

"Well," Gandalf huffed lightly, "I'm pleased to find you remember something about me, even if it's only my fireworks." The wizard turned back to the hobbit and smiled. "Well, that's decided. It will be very good for you…for both of you and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others."

"Inform the who?" Bilbo's eyes narrowed suspicious while he shifted on his feet, torn between staying to interrogate the wizard or going to help his friend. "What? No. No." He gestured at the wizard wildly with his pipe. "No! We do not want any adventures here, thank you. Not today, not…" He made his way to his door. "I suggest you try over the Hill or across the Water. Good morning."

He hurried inside and shut the door behind him. He let out a shaky breath and leaned against his door, while wiping his sweating brow. That's when he heard a curious noise, and he turned to press his ear against the door. Bilbo went to look out the side window, only to find Gandalf's eyes appear in front of him. He gave a cry of fright and jumped to hide behind a wall. He stayed there a few minutes, before he dared glance out another window.

This time he saw the wizard hurrying away, and relief poured through him. He slumped releasing a sigh, Bilbo leaned on his desk and his fingers brushing along the spine of a book that funny enough was about adventures. Now that he thought about it, most of his books were of adventures. He looked down at the book, a whimsical smile playing on his lips before he forced it away with a rough shake of his head. "Adventures," he spat, marching through his house. "I have no need of adventures."

Too bad that fate seemed to disagree with Bilbo.

Elizabeth had left Bree days ago, and was trekking across the countryside towards the Shire. She took the ferry across the Brandywine and walked for several hours, across plains and through the woods until evening fell. She camped near a thicket, and watched the moon until she fell asleep. A nightmare, vicious and unyielding, plagued her that night. Of a all consuming fire, and screams and she remembers a child crying,hugging the wooden toy ever closer to his chest, then there was a great roar, a large shadow against the sky and the tower above came crashing down then…then Elizabeth woke up, choking on a scream. Her eyes were wide and wild as she looked around the forest half expecting it to be engulfed in flames. She sat there as still as a statue for several seconds until the cool air slowly settled upon her skin, cooling her down.

A breath shuddered through her loosening her limbs as she sank back against her bedroll, and closed her eyes against the fresh wave of tears. These nightmares were tearing her apart. Opening her eyes as a jolt of pain sear up her right arm, she glanced at it with disdain before shaking her head lightly. Pushing herself up, she started to gather her things together at a leisurely pace. She slung her pack over her shoulder, her quiver on the other and kept her bow on hand in case anything came along. A soft dawn was creeping over everything, and before the shadows were fully chased away, when she began to walk once more. The Shire was secluded place, few traveled there except merchants and traders. The hobbits tended to keep to themselves, preferring the company of their own to outsiders for a variety of reasons.

The village was composed of smials-or hobbit holes, in lameman's terms-that were built into the hillsides. At first glance, it was easy to overlook them. At second glance, one could see the round colorful doors and the early morning light gleamed off the windows.

The air was fragrant from the sweet smell of flowers and crisp scent of freshly cut grass. The sun shined brightly, and there was not a single cloud in the sky. There was little doubt that the valley and it's people were blessed by the Green Lady. The Shire was the picture of a perfect day, and yet, Elizabeth could not shake the phantom chill that shuddered down her spine. A ghost from the Fell Winter that couldn't be fully dispelled, no matter how much the green plains, and serene air of the Shire tried to bring her peace. She walked down the road at a leisurely pace, her quiver hanging from her hip and her bow secured to her back. Her blue eyes raked across the landscape taking the many hobbit homes along the path. Her lips quirked up in a smile as a group of fauntlings rushed past her, their laughter contagious.

Elizabeth heard men talking loudly about the upcoming Green Lady festival, while the wives traded the latest gossip with each other as well as recipes and gardening tips. Elizabeth wove her way past the hobbits, ignoring the whispers that sprung up in her wake. The sun was bright and vivid, and was pleasantly warm. Then a voice cried out, "Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth turned just in time to catch a familiar set of brown curls before the hobbit threw her arms around Elizabeth esthetically, and laughed merrily all the while. "Primula!" She wrapped her arms, and hugged the hobbit tightly.

Primula Brandybuck was one of the few hobbits that Elizabeth was fond of. The young woman was free spirited, and kind and always found the silver lining. "It is so good to see you! We've missed you," Primula said, pulling back. "Where have you been?" She demanded, with a mock scolding tone and hands on her hips.

"Everywhere and anywhere," Elizabeth replied, not missing a beat. "And I've have missed you as well."

"Of course you would miss me, who wouldn't?" Primula said, sassily.

Elizabeth laughed, then her expression then fell into something more serious. "Be honest with me, Prim, how is he?" Her eyes glanced in the direction of Bag End, leaving no question as to whom she was inquiring about.

"He is well. A bit of a hermit as always, but he was at the market the other day and appeared to be in good spirits," Primula stated, quietly. "He has been worried, you know? It had been a long time since your last letter, and well, he worries."

Guilt lanced through her and she grimaced. "Yeah, I know," she said, with a slight nod. Her eyes lingered on Bag End for a long moment, and she let out a deep sigh. "I know," she repeated a bit more quietly. The two chatted for a few moments, before parting ways and Elizabeth made her way up to Bag End. Sometimes she thought of staying here in the Shire with Bilbo, but restless soul could not be content with staying in one place.

Or perhaps she hadn't found a place that captured her heart yet. Many said she was infected by Wanderlust, however that implied she was lost. The truth was Elizabeth never felt lost. She felt…incomplete not lost, as strange as that sounded. Raising her hand, she nodded on the green door and didn't exactly get the response she had been expecting. Instead, she heard hands slam hastily against the other side of the door and fumble with the locks. "Go away! We have no need of fireworks, mad wizard, or adventures here!" Bilbo's voice came from the other side of the door, loud and more than a little distressed.

Elizabeth stood there for a moment, her mouth comically agape and her hand hanging in the air before she blinking wildly. "Fireworks, mad wiz…" she repeated the words, then the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Her eyes flickered down the rune that glowed upon the freshly painted door, and let out a tiny sigh. Gandalf must have gotten here first and she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Then what about old friends?" Elizabeth called out, after a long moment.

Silence ticked by for several seconds before a metallic click filled the air, and the freshly painted door was hastily pulled open. Bilbo stood there, his expression pinched and his eyes narrowed until they fell upon her. Instantly, his frown smoothed out into a smile and he looked more than a little relieved.

"Elizabeth," he breathed out, breathlessly.

Elizabeth smiled.

They had settled into Bag End, and Bilbo had brought out scones and snacks while Elizabeth got a kettle going for Bilbo to try some tea that she brought from Gondor. "So," Bilbo began as he sat down in his favorite chair and Elizabeth sat adjacent from him, gently taking the tea cup from him. "Where have you all been this time? What have you been doing?"

"Oh, nothing too exciting," Elizabeth admitted, a bit sheepishly. "It's been rather quiet these last few months. A couple of times I went on hunts with the Rangers in Bree, a brief time spent in Gondor, and a visit from a wizard-"

"A wizard?" Bilbo did a double take.

"Gandalf the Grey." Judging by the way Bilbo's face paled then quickly flushed of anger, Elizabeth was betting Gandalf did not make a great impression on the hobbit. She stifled a chuckle as Bilbo sputtered and tried to come up with the words while she smother blueberry jam on a scone with her forefinger.

"You know that wizard?" Bilbo looked scandalized. He was still a perturbed by this mornings dealing with the wizard. Though he supposed it shouldn't be surprising that Elizabeth knew the wizard with all her travels.

"Do you want your original question answered or not?" Elizabeth avoided the question, without batting an eyelash. The little hobbit would not be pleased to know that she knew Gandalf was up to something and trying to involve him. Though she was puzzled as to who these 'others' Gandalf were bringing along, and could not deny that it left her a bit anxious. "Or do you wish me to list off every person I've ever met?" She continued on, smoothly with her lips quirked into a half smile.

"Sorry," Bilbo said. He dipped his head, looking a tad bit contrite, but the yearning for knowledge was shining too bright in his eyes to be disguised.

"No, you aren't," Elizabeth noted, amused. She shifted her gaze until she was watching the flames licking the underside of the kettle. "You hide behind your father's manners all you want, but you and I both know that you are as impertinent as your mother was."

"Pot. Kettle," Bilbo shot the words at her.

She laughed. "Of course, I am. I know how to be little else," she said, her half smile turning into a broad grin. "Now where was I…hmm," her brows pinched in thought. "Oh, yes. I had a visit from Gandalf…that I'm not honestly sure was all that helpful." She heard Bilbo snort, and mutter unflattering things underneath his breath before she continued, "And I spent a bit of time in Bree, doing odds and ends."

The kettle went off with a loud whistle interrupting further conversation until Bilbo picked it up with a mitten, and poured the boiling water into both of their cups.

"The tea leaves won't need to seep long, so drink up before the flavor become too strong," she warned, before blowing on her own cup before relaxing back into the chair. Bilbo sipped it and found the taste to be a bit sweet, but not entirely unpleasant.

"What made you decide to come and visit?" Bilbo asked, quietly. He let himself relax more than he had in a long time, a sense of ease falling over him thanks to the good tea, good food and good company.

"Coming to visit is always on my mind," Elizabeth commented, lightly. "Bag End is one of the few places I feel completely safe, but I…it's hard to stay here."

Bilbo blinked. "Why?" He asked.

Because it's not home, she thought, but she dare not say it. Elizabeth just gave him a sad smile and sipped her tea, gently. Bag End and Rivendell were almost home. Almost, but there…was something about them that left her empty. "I don't know. My mother used to say I had a wanderer's heart, maybe it's true," she answered, with a smile and shrug.

"I think you think you're better off alone," Bilbo theorized. "It's seems easier that way for you. And you've been hurt," Bilbo stated, fiercely. He saw the slight surprise flash through her eyes. "Yes, I noticed. All wrapped up where no one could see them, but I see the edges of the bandages sticking out of your tunic."

"Sometimes I forget how observant you are," Elizabeth said, giving him a sidelong look with a rueful smile upon her lips. She shifted, wincing at the soreness in her limbs. A couple of wolves had descended upon, and even though she came out the victor, she hardly came out completely unscathed.

"Hmmm. Do you think you will ever give it up?" Bilbo asked. "The whole adventuring?"

"Not for all the gold in the world. It makes a difference, what I do. Maybe not a big one, a noticeable one that will songs or poems written about, but it is still makes a difference nonetheless," she said, her eyes flickering towards the window as the sound of children's laughter rang out. "At least, it does to me."

Bilbo stared at her for a long moment, taking in her wistful expression and found himself smiling fondly. "I suppose it does," he said, softly. "Now, let me take a look at your wounds."

"They are fine," Elizabeth shrugged.

"Uh-uh," the hobbit stated, unconvinced. He stood up from his chair, and walked over the cupboard. Pulling it open, he looked through the jars and searched for the salves he always kept around just in case of a gardening accident. "But let me check for my peace of mind, hmm? Besides, you need someone to take care of you since you clearly aren't."

She gave him a dry look. "Pot. Kettle."

Bilbo had the nerve to look smug.

Bilbo was in a deep peaceful when a scream jolted him awake. Heart racing a million miles a minute, he kicked off his blankets and stumbled when another groaning scream tore through the silence of bag end. He looked glancing down the hallway, towards the red door that was sealed shut and his eyes filled with worry. He shuffled quietly across his wooden floor, and he reached the bedroom door. He heard sounded of a struggle, and he winced in sympathy.

"Elizabeth…" he hesitantly called out. He knocked against the door, and called out again, "Elizabeth, are you alright?"

Elizabeth tossed and turned in the bed. Her hair was plastered to her forehead by a sheen of sweat that had broken out across her skin. Her hands were clenched tightly, her fingers digging into blankets as she shifted restlessly. Her legs kicked out, whether it was an unconscious effort to run or an attempt to kick something away. The pulse at the base of her throat jumped wildly, and then her eyes snapped open, a harsh gasp ripping through her throat as she bolted clear off the bed.

She landed on the floor with a loud bang, and Bilbo shoved the door open to see Elizabeth wildly looking around the room while groping like a beggar for her weapon. "Elizabeth?" Bilbo asked, hesitantly.

Her head jerked in his direction, her eyes wide and wild and her brows furrowed when they focused upon him. Slowly, one by one, her muscles relaxed as the nightmare faded, and reality settled in. Her shoulders slumped in exhausted, and she groaned resting her head on the edge of the bed. "Bilbo?" She asked, weakly.

"Yes?" The hobbit replied, a bit unsure.

Everything came flooding back with a painful awareness. The calm air that Bag End always seemed to possess settle across her sweat skin, and seep in before she ran a trembling hand down her face. "I'm…I'm fine," she replied, her voice sounding more shaky than she wanted it to. Clearing her throat, she pressed on, "I'm fine. It was just a nightmare."

"Again?" The worry was palpable in his voice.

She bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a pitying laugh. She feared she hadn't been a very good house guest, popping up out of nowhere and her nightmares that probably scared Bilbo more than they scared her. Though…they scared her quite a bit if she was being honest. Elizabeth took in a deep breath. "Nice nighties," she commented, her eyes flickering with amusement.

Bilbo looked down at his nightclothes, and flushed wishing he had his robe. Crossing his arms over his chest, he attempted to look dignified. "I was asleep before you woke me up with all your…yelling," Bilbo sniffed, haughtily. He raked a concerned eye over her not for a second believing that she was fine in the slightest. "Are you certain you are alright?" He asked, frowning.

"I'll be…alright, Bilbo," she told him, rising to her feet using the bed to help steady herself. "I just need a moment to myself, please?" She looked at him, taking deep and steady breaths in order to calm herself.

Bilbo looked like he wanted to protest, but he did not know what else he could do help. He huffed, running a hand through his curls. "I…I will go make some breakfast," Bilbo said, his hands falling to his sides. "But if you aren't out there in just a few I will…" He hesitated for a second. "I will do something."

Elizabeth bit her lip not to chuckle. "Deal," she promised, giving him her best smile. The hobbit stared at her for a long moment, then he turned and walked out of the room.

She stood there for a moment, and closed her eyes to organize her thoughts and push away the nightmare to the back of her mind. Her head throbbed lightly, and the jolt of adrenaline that she had felt coursing through her veins was wearing off leaving her more exhausted than before she had fallen asleep. With a pitiful groan, she stood up and opened her eyes. The familiar walls of the smial and the homely feeling curb away the rest of her anxiety. She walked into the bathroom, when she finally managed to stop shaking and walked over to the sink. Twisting the handle, the water flowed down and she cupped it in her hands before splashing it across her face.

The cold splash was a welcomed shock batting away the last bits of fatigue, and she went about getting herself dressed. She didn't bother putting on her light weight armor doubting she would encounter anything too deadly in the nearby forest. She was hoping for some rabbits. Bilbo always did make the best rabbit stew. She exited the room after changing, and the scent of bacon, eggs and jam wafted through the air and her stomach growled loudly. She reached the kitchen, and saw Bilbo had made her a plate of food. Settling down adjacent from him, she greeted him, "Good morning."

Bilbo grimaced. Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "Bad morning?" She asked, with a wry smile.

"No, it's…a good morning," Bilbo sighed. He sipped on his tea gingerly while nibble on a scone smothered in raspberry jam. Elizabeth thanked him for the food, and gingerly began to eat. "Do you…do you want to talk about it?" The hobbit asked.

"Not really," Elizabeth murmured, her heart stuttering in her chest at the thought. "Maybe…once it isn't so fresh inside my head," she added, her eyes downcast.

"I am always here," Bilbo offered, simply.

A smile appeared on her face at that. Hobbits never ceased to amaze her…except the Sackville Baggins. She pities Bilbo for unfortunately being related to them. With a loud yawn, she stretched out and took her plate to the sink. She washed and dried it, before turning to Bilbo who is busy with reading a book. "I'm going hunting," she announced, pulling her hair tie out of her pocket and pulling her auburn hair back into a messy ponytail.

"Just make sure you shoot at an actual animal this time, and not Lobelia," Bilbo retorted, his lips twitching ever so slightly. "I'd rather not hear from the Thain again…even if she did deserve it," he added underneath his breath.

"I'll try not to, Bilbo," She chuckled, her voice carrying a low timber and a strange drawl that was quite endearing. "But who knows…maybe a rabbit will scurry in front of Lobelia on the road and my arrow just might slip?"

"No one would believe that," Bilbo pointed out.

Elizabeth grinned broadly. "You sure you don't want to come with me?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. She had retrieved her green cloak from the back of the chair, and fastened it on. "We can make an adventure of it?"

"Adventure? Me?" He froze like a deer in headlights, his eyes going impossibly wide and look a bit hysterical. "Going on an adventure? No," he shook his head rapidly, side to side. "Just no. No."

Elizabeth paused, her right hand twitching and part of her wondered if she should tell Bilbo about Gandalf. Being a victim of the meddlesome wizard's, she knew how exactly how he operated. "Bilbo…do you remember what I said about having a reason for coming to the Shire? Besides, coming to see you," Elizabeth stated, her brows pinched. She had tried several times to mention Gandalf to Bilbo and the wizard's plan to show up, but always ended up tongue tied. Perhaps the lack of explanation was what held her back, or perhaps Gandalf put a spell on her. Either way, she couldn't help feel a little guilty about it for Biblo had been so good to her.

Bilbo blinked up at her in a way that reminded her of a startled rabbit. "Yes…you mentioned it a couple of times. Why?" He asked, grasping a scone so he could smother some raspberry jam on it.

Staring at the hobbit for a long moment, Elizabeth decided she would tell him when she got back from her hunt. Suddenly, her lips quirked up into a smile just imaging Bilbo being dragged onto an adventure by Gandalf.

"What's with that smile?" Bilbo eyed her, warily.

Elizabeth just chuckled lightly, and she just shook her head slightly. "I'll tell you when I get back," she said with a wide grin, and pulled the green hood of her cloak over her head. The deep rich green was a strong contrast to her porcelain skin.

A lone rabbit had stepped in her path, its nose raised in the air as it stood back on its haunches. Elizabeth drew back an arrow, murmuring a soft apology before releasing it. The rabbit flew backwards on to the ground dead, and Elizabeth picked it up tying it off of her belt with a tiny bit of guilt. Hunting was a cruel necessity to a wanderer, it didn't mean she entirely liked it. She caught one more rabbit, and had come across deer tracks, so she was setting up a trap for the deer. The day had quickly faded away, and the orange and pink hues coming down from the treetops made Elizabeth realize that she had been dallying in the forest too long. She inanely recalled her mother saying something about idle hands once when she was a child, with a slight smile.

Bilbo is probably worried, she thought with a deep sigh. She finished planting her trap for the deer. A deer would make a good trade at the Shire market. She could get a fair amount of supplies for Bag End to repay Bilbo for his kindness in letting her stay there. Keeping her breaths slow and even, she lifted her feet with a practice precision that she had come to learn over the several years. Her eyes raking over the forest, picking out the noise of the wind from the forest life. She had been trying to lure the deer out, using fur from a wolf she had killed last fall to make the deer go where she wanted it to go.

It should be heading for the clearing where she had left corn kernels to further entice the deer. It was a shoddy trap, if she had more time she would have planned it better, but hopefully it would work all the same. She fiddled with one of the arrows in her quiver while heading towards the clearing. That's when she heard it. A shuffling sound. Too big to be a rabbit, and definitely not the graceful gait of a deer. A deep frown settled over her features, and she shoved through some bushes and into the clearing where she had hoped to meet the deer when she met something else entirely. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the man turn towards her and her heart jumped into her throat in shock.

She whirled to face the man, and gasped when she realized that it was not a man at all. But a dwarf! Elizabeth had raised her bow on an instinct that could only be borne from battle, an arrow notched ready to fire and her face carefully blank as the equally startled dwarf had pulled out his ax ready to swing. Her unnatural eyes clashed with the deep, severe hazel gaze of the dwarf's as if they were daring each other to make the first move. For a long time, the only noise in the forest were her sharp uneven breaths. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and her lips tipped downward in a frown.

The dwarf's knuckles were white as he clutched his ax tightly. His lips pressed into a thin line, and Elizabeth realized that she would have to be the one to make the first move. "Master dwarf," she said, keeping her voice neutral as she studied him carefully. He was an intimidating looking dwarf with his bald head covered in tattoo, mighty beard and his gruff stance. Her bow was drawn tight, her arrow quaking ever so slightly as indecision filled her. Licking her dry lips, she debated whether she should she put her weapon down, or keep steady just in case? The fierce looking dwarf narrowed his eyes, his hands flexing around his mean looking axe obviously going over his choices.

He didn't make any motion to charge her, meaning he knew he would get shot down before he had the time to swing. She admired that he didn't stand down right away. A fighting spirit much like her own. "You going to put that arrow away, lassie?" The dwarf growled, through clenched teeth.

The right side of her mouth quirked up in amusement, and she almost put the arrow back in her quiver when she heard a branch crack from somewhere up above. Her eyes flickered to the hill behind him. In one movement, so subtle that one who wasn't paying attention would have missed it, she redirected her bow and let go. She watched the dwarf jerked back, bringing his weapon to defend himself when a loud thud behind him made him whirl around. There lying on the forest floor was a deer, the arrow sticking through right through its heart. "I apologize, Master dwarf," her voice low and calm as her eyes met the dwarf's, "if I startled you. It was not my intention."

The suspicious look didn't lessen in the slightest. Elizabeth carefully hooked her bow on her shoulder, and went to inspect her catch. "Hmm," she knelt down, her fingers gently brushing the gentle animal's head. "Thank your for giving your life," she murmured softly to the animal while taking the arrow out of its head, "so we may survive."

A shuffle beside her made her look and she saw the dwarf was still standing there. His gaze on her, ever wary, but there was confusion there to. Elizabeth rose, brushing the leaves that clung to her cloak off and inquired, politely, "Where does the road take you, Master dwarf?"

"My business is my own," the dwarf stated, gruffly.

"Forgive me, it was not my intention to pry," she said, with great care because she did not know this dwarf, nor have any inclination to trust him. "It is not often that we have a dwarf wander into the Shire, and I thought that perhaps you have lost your way and was in need of some assistance."

The tattooed dwarf considered her words for a long moment, his hands still clenched around his ax. She had no illusions that if he decided to strike that she would make it out okay. His icy blue eyes were filled with mistrust, but a reluctant grunt from his lips. "I look for Bag End," he finally divulged, with grudgingly.

Elizabeth's polite disposition instantly cooled, as her blood felt like ice coursing through her veins. She drew herself up to her full height and eyed the dwarf with suspicion. She spoke, her voice as hard as diamonds, "May I ask what you want with Bag End?" She eyed him up and down, briefly wondering if he was part of the 'others' that Gandalf mentioned to Bilbo.

"As I said before my business is my own," the dwarf snapped. Dwarves were not the trusting sort it appeared. He muttered something in a guttural language, and Elizabeth knew it wasn't something nice.

"Not when it has something to do with my friend's home," Elizabeth shot back, her voice just as fierce. Her fingers itched to draw another arrow, but he could easily hack her head off before she got the time to shoot. Must tread carefully, she thought to herself and kept her body poised to run if necessary.

"Your friend's…" Understanding filled the dwarf's eyes, and he shifted to face her once more, looking her up and down. The weight of his gaze was judging and Elizabeth made sure she didn't shy away. After a long moment of silence, he seemed to come to some sort of decision before bowing slightly to her. "Dwalin, at your service," he introduced himself, the stiffen in his bow told her how reluctant he was in that greeting.

Elizabeth hesitated a moment, her lips pursed. "Elizabeth Morgan, at yours and your family," she inclined her head, and allowed herself to relax ever so slightly. "Well, if it is Bag End that you seek, Master Dwarf, then I shall lead you there." Her head cocked to the side. "That is…if you agreeable to that suggestion?"

Dwalin gave a sharp nod. "Aye, lass," the dwarf said. "It is agreeable."

Bilbo was quite worried when the sun dipped down and Elizabeth had yet to arrive. He even went and reread her letter-twice-to check and make sure that tonight was indeed the night that she had planned on arriving. He supposed that she could have found something that piqued her curiosity, it wouldn't be the first time and yet there was an unsettling feeling in the pit of his gut like something strange would soon be happening. He finished cooking dinner, and placed Elizabeth a plate off the side covering it with a towel to keep it warm. He took his own plate, and heads towards the table. He tucked his napkin into his collar and picked up his utensils when a knock came from the door.

He paused, his brows furrowing. His first thought went to Elizabeth, but she wouldn't knock. Setting his utensils carefully down, he pulled the napkin from his neck and set it down on the table before rising from his seat. He padded across the wooden floor, trying to think of who would disturb him at this hour. Probably Lobelia, she had the uncanny knack for coming around at the most inopportune times. He sighed, and opened the door ready to politely send her on her way when he froze on the spot.

That is not Lobelia.

Next Chapter: More dwarves, and a wizard has some explaining to do...:D

Elizabeth's armor is the Nightingale Armor from Skyrim. Instead of black, it is green. If you want to look at pictures of it go to tthfanfic doc org and look Cloudleonsgurl. That was my sister and mine's profile and we do some fanart. :D

RRs are appreciated! :D