Hello again! I'm very happy to be back! Not because I have less to do, but as Booksnake3 said in her last review of this story "So I hope more random chapters pop up in the future, whenever you feel you have too much to do and therefore feel like doing some writing on top of it". I laughed when I first read that, but I've come to see it's absolutely true! I have about 19 books on my to-read list, plenty of schoolwork, and a Highland dance exam in a few days, but I've been want to write this for months so here you are.

Hope you enjoy the first chapter of part 2 of A Winter with a Burglar. Yes, I'm aware the title doesn't quite fit anymore, but… I like it :)

Some days that begin in a completely ordinary and mundane manner turn out to be full of unexpected and amazing adventures. Other days are eagerly anticipated for weeks on end, then turn out to be terribly disappointing and anticlimactic. And some days have the wonderful charm of being greatly anticipated and more exciting and wonderful than can possibly be imagined.

Today, Frodo Baggins was sure, was one of those days.

He had been up along with dwarflings before the sun was, and they had shocked their parents by making breakfast for everyone. Oatmeal wasn't particularly Frodo's favourite, but he had been quite consoled by the fact he wouldn't have to eat it again for a good couple of months. Everyone had quickly shoveled down the food and gulped down their tea before attending to the last of the packing. Kíli and Finn had gone to fetch the ponies from the Hobbiton stable, Ida and Dís were going over the clothing and supplies a final time, Bilbo was fussing about the kitchen and pantry putting food and dishes away for the last time, and Taurion had fallen asleep again on the pile of bedrolls by the front door. Frodo was left standing alone in his bedroom, which he supposed he wouldn't see again for several months.

He absentmindedly adjusted the pillows lying at the head of his bed so it would look tidy when he came back, not that he'd probably notice, then picked up the traveling pack sitting at the end of it. He had already gone through it again last night, and there was only one thing left lying on top: a dark green traveling cloak that Bilbo had bought for him at the market a few days ago. "There were many things I'd wished I brought on my last adventure Frodo, but a cloak was probably the most practical. Whenever it rained, whether outside the Shire or in the Misty Mountains, the dwarves would retreat inside their hoods. But I'd be left with my hair plastered to the side of my head and water dripping off my nose! Bofur said I looked like a drowned mouse!" he had remarked at the time.

Frodo hurried over to the mirror and tied it on with a smile. He looked daft really, nothing like Finn yesterday in his dark new coat and heavy boots that Ida had brought, with a small sword buckled on his back. But the cloak still had the positive effect of making him feel much more adventurous.

He swung the pack over his shoulder and took a final look around the room. Bed made, clothes away in his dresser, his books neatly stacked on the shelf- ah, the window. Stepping towards it, he pushed it open and looked out at the dusky landscape. The sun was just beginning to peek over the hills, bathing the green slopes and brightly painted round doors with its warm light. He could just see the road that ran past Bag End and down through Hobbiton disappear out of sight over the farthest ridge- the road that they would be traveling on today.

Frodo happily shut the window with a bang. No sense letting drafts get in while they were gone. He quickly darted of the room and down the hallway, forcing himself to resist the urge to skip like a teen. In the kitchen Bilbo was still puttering away with dishes that would soon be covered in dust and sugar pots that would probably be emptied by ants, and opening and shutting cupboards with a little more force than was necessary.

"Are you all right, Uncle Bilbo?" he asked a trifle anxiously, after a particularly loud complaint from a pot that found itself flying through the air and crashing into an already full crate of cooking supplies.

His uncle turned to him with a flustered expression, lines of worry highlighted on his increasingly wrinkled brow. Then he smiled and brushed his greying hair out of his eyes, and Frodo saw the same barely contained excitement that was churning away inside him.

"Quite all right, my boy. Just nerves I expect. You know, as inconvenient as it was to leave last time with hardly a moment's notice, at least I didn't have time to worry about spoiled food or watering plants."

"Almost ready, Bilbo?" asked Kíli cheerfully, leaning around the corner. Taurion was resting on his shoulder and blinked sleepily at them. Ever since his mother and father had returned, the young dwarf wanted nothing more than to be cuddled and carried by them. "It would be nice to get out the door before supper time."

"Very funny," snorted Bilbo. "Half a minute more."

Only when Kíli had disappeared around the corner did he mutter "Confusticate and bebother all dwarves!". Frodo wondered how it was possible to sound so vexed and fond of someone at the same time.

"Frodo, will you help me carry the saddle bags out?" Dís asked as she suddenly came out of the pantry. She too was garbed in her new traveling gear, a heavy greyish blue dress with a brown cloak. Her hair was done simply; more practical for traveling than the normal exorbitant amount of braids she did every morning, and her eyes were shining with the same excitement everyone felt.

Frodo thought she looked rather pretty, though he wouldn't dare admit out loud. She'd probably knock him to the floor.

"Certainly," he agreed, and they both ran down the hall.

After what felt like hours to everyone in their party under fifty, the door to Bag End was finally locked, the packs fastened to the ponies' saddles, and they were off on their way through the still-silent road through the village. The adults each had their own mount, while the younger ones shared. Taurion was happily settled in front of Finn on Mabel, and today Frodo was riding with Dís.

Their goodbyes to close friends had all been made yesterday, and Bilbo had thrown a small party last week to which all of the hobbit children the dwarflings had come to know over the winter had been invited. Some tears had been shed then, particularly by the smallest Gamgee who had been certain the Bagginses were leaving for good. But Frodo had solemnly promised little Samwise he would return someday soon, and today he felt nothing but elation to be out on the road to Erebor.

Hobbiton was gone startlingly quickly behind them, and they were out on the open road. Frodo eagerly took in everything around him, from the vibrant green of the forest lining the road to the shine of the early morning sun on the burnished leather saddle. He heard bird calls in the distance, the clink of the metal bits on the ponies, and Uncle Bilbo sneezing into the handkerchief that he had most certainly not forgotten to bring. A shiver of pure exhilaration escaped him.

"Excited?" asked Finn with a hint of superiority in his voice and a grin plastered on his face. The dwarf was resting easily in his saddle with a laid-back air, the reigns held loosely in one hand. Clearly he was trying to look as though he was an experienced traveler on his hundredth trip, and he was doing quite a good job of it. Bilbo, who was a few ponies back, thought he looked uncannily like a younger version of his father in this very woods some decades ago.

"Not at all," declared Frodo resolutely, assuming a relaxed pose. He was only able to hold it for a moment before he lost his balance and would have fallen off the pony if Dís hadn't reached behind and grabbed him.

The carefree laughter of the children rang out through the trees. It seemed like a very promising start to their journey.

…

The first night of our trip went very well, even though most of us were too excited to sleep. Then it rained for about three days, which made everyone quite grumpy. Most of us caught a cold and Uncle Bilbo complained of creaking joints, and my cloak didn't even keep out all the rain. But then the sun came out and stayed with us until Rivendell, which was very nice. Kíli took Finn hunting the night before we got there, since we weren't likely to have any meat with the elves. Finn shot his first pheasant, which he was very proud of.

Frodo grinned as he rememberedbeing assigned to pluck the birds afterwards, which had somehow turned into a feather tickle fight with Taurion.

The hobbit was currently tucked up in his bedroll, reading over the journal entries he had made so far on his journey. Bilbo had given him a leather notebook the day before they had set out, with the instruction that he was to record their journey whenever he had the chance. Frodo had been more than happy to agree, and had spent many pleasant moments beside the fire filling the oilskin-wrapped book with amusing stories or noteworthy things they'd seen.

He turned the page to read the entry he had made in Rivendell.

Rivendell (or Imladris, as Taurion and I like calling it) is almost too amazing for words. Finn and Dís and I have spent all day exploring; there are too many libraries and balconies and gardens to count. Bilbo and I feel right at home, with the rooms half inside-half outside, but the dwarves argue it doesn't feel safe. Though Finn and Dís did like the tree that grew beside their balcony so they could climb down without using the stairs.

All the elves we met were very serious- they seemed almost sad. But a good kind of sadness, I think. Except for two elves who called themselves Dan and Elro (funny names for elves). They just appeared suddenly in my bedroom- I think they dropped through the skylight- and offered to give us a tour of all the most interesting places in Rivendell. We didn't see why we shouldn't, so we followed them. The first place we went was the kitchens. I won't write about what we did there, because Uncle Bilbo will probably read this and he might disapprove. A lot.

Frodo didn't need to write it down anyway, he wasn't going to forget that fascinating tour as long as he lived. Only afterwards had he found out their guides had been Elrond's own sons, which had quite relieved him. Now they couldn't be blamed for any disasters that had may have occurred during or shortly after their visit.

Our trip through the Misty Mountains afterwards wasn't nearly so pleasant. When we first reached them I could easily see why Bilbo thought the Company had already come to the Lonely Mountain. They are just so humongous and they make one feel so very small.

Even though they are now safe to travel through, the mountains made Kíli and Bilbo think of goblins and torture and white orcs. They didn't speak of it during the day, but you could see it in their faces. At night after the others had fallen asleep I heard them talking of the time of when Azog almost killed Thorin. Bilbo never told me he saved him from an orc! But afterwards, and for several nights after that, I could hardly sleep.

I also saw Bilbo with his hand in his pocket a lot, like he does when Aunt Lorbelia walks by our house. It was here that he found it, after all. I think he and I were both worried that the Gollum-creature might still be in the Mountains, and we made sure to put our bedrolls beside each other every night.

Frodo shivered after reading that bit. He could still remember wrapping himself in his blanket every night and trying to not imagine ghostly white fingers wrapping around his neck. Looking up and watching Kíli sharpen his sword by the fire while looking darkly into the woods had always made him feel marginally better.

He flipped through the last of the few entries he had made since then. He had made sure to record all the important events- Rivendell, the Mountains, Beorn's House. But his favourite had to be the time he had stayed up and just watched the open sky and stars with Finn and Dís.

We made camp next to the Carrock- not on it, since we didn't have any eagles to fly us up and Gandalf wasn't there to call them. Finn begged to be allowed to climb to the top- apparently his uncle hadn't let him the last time they passed it since they were in a hurry. To everyone's surprise Kíli agreed, and even suggested that Finn sleep up there while he was at it. He was a bit taken aback at that, as hadn't bargained on staying up there all night by himself. But then Dís volunteered to go with him, and then I just had to as well. Bilbo fussed enough for three worried mothers, and was certain someone would slip and we'd all fall to our deaths. We only brought him around by agreeing to tie ourselves in a train with rope. "So if someone falls, the rest will be dragged off too so as to be fair" Finn muttered darkly, not happy about being tied next to his sister. I certainly hoped they wouldn't fall, because there was no chance I'd be able to hold the weight of two solidly-built dwarflings. Have I mentioned they weigh as much as a small horse each?

Taurion was cried when he found out he was being left behind, and pointing out that he couldn't walk all the way up there and no one could carry him didn't console him. But then Ida pulled out some caramels she'd bought at the Hobbiton market and that cheered him up right away. Finn, who loves caramels, looked as though he was having second thoughts about going.

But when we finally got to the top (which took a terribly long time and I only narrowly escaped being buried alive in all the rocks and dirt Finn and Dís knocked down), we realised it had quite been worth it. We could look down and see the others wandering around far below, up to see the smoke rising up from Beorn's house in the distance, and most amazing of all, the Lonely Mountain rising up far on the horizon. Several moments went by before we suddenly took a sharp breath, and then we realised we had all been holding it. We laughed, but quietly. I can't quite describe how it felt to be standing right where Thorin and the others were on their quest so many years ago. We wished we could have been there with them, but then I remembered some more details from that moment and was very thankful we didn't have any wounds from the goblins or burns from falling pinecones, and also that we didn't have to climb all the way down again in the near dark.

Sleeping that night was difficult. Not because we were scared of goblins as in the Mountains or terrified of rolling off the edge (though that did enter my mind, and I made sure to sleep between the other two), but because the sky above was breathtaking. You were so high up that you felt like you could touch it, and we saw more shooting stars that night than we've seen the rest of our lives combined.

Dís saw the first one, and I told her she should make a wish. But dwarves apparently don't have that custom.

"Make a wish?" she said with confusion. "Why?"

"Because it's a shooting star. You can make a wish on it and perhaps it'll come true."

"Star and wishes? Sounds very elvish to me," said Finn suspiciously.

"You're impossible," I told Finn, then turned back to Dís. "You know, like making a wish when you blow out the candles on your birthday cake or blow the fluff off a dandelion."

"And how is blowing seeds off a weed supposed to bring luck?" she asked, even more skeptical.

But eventually they understood the concept, and we spent the most of the night awake making wishes on stars.

"I wish that it wouldn't rain the rest of our journey," said Dís, her fingers trailing the spot in the sky where the star had been a moment before.

"I wish that we will pass through Mirkwood safely," I said, rolling over to look into the darkness in the direction of that infamous forest.

"And wish that I had some of those caramels," said Finn wistfully.

"Finn!" exclaimed Dís.

"All right! All right! I wish that my little brother or sister will be born safely,"

Dís and I murmured our agreement. After that, we made trivial and fun wishes.

"I wish that Beorn will serve us honeycomb and milk like he did for the Company,"

"I wish Dís would let me hold the reigns next time I ride with her,"

"I wish a certain greedy hobbit would leave some mushrooms bits for other people when Amad puts them in the stew,"

We continued with our wish-making far into the night, with longer and longer silences stretching out in between wishes as we stared up into the great big infinite sky.

Finally, just before my eyes drooped shut, I heard Finn make a last wish. "I wish that Erebor will have a king worthy to rule her."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Frodo thought more about that last line. Did Finn mean that he didn't want to be king? But... he had to be! He was Fili's son and heir, after all. He resolved to ask him about it later.

Frodo shut the notebook and rolled over onto his back to stare up at the deep leafy green canopy above him. They were about three days into Mirkwood now. He found it to be just as confining and dark as he had heard it was, but Bilbo and Kíli had laughed when he mentioned it.

"Compared to the way it used to be, walking on this path feels like I'm strolling through one of your pleasant Shire meadows!" Kíli had declared. "The elves have done a good job of cleaning it up since then. I haven't even seen any spider webs!"

All the same, Frodo still felt skittish and uncomfortable. He would be glad once they were out.

"Frodo! Frodo!" exclaimed Taurion, running over to his bedroll and almost tripping over him. "Come play tag!"

"I don't think so, Tauri. Maybe-"

"Come on, Frodo!" Finn joined in, running into the camp after his cousin. He stopped abruptly when he saw the hobbit tucked away in his blankets. "Frodo Baggins! What are you doing in bed? Aunt Ida hasn't even served supper yet! Do I have to drag you out by your shoeless feet?"

Frodo was about to issue a sharp retort when Taurion turned and looked at him with the most pleading, heart-rending expression not made by a hobbit ever. He sighed, and gave up his argument as hopeless.

"Very well. Who's it?"

"Díssy's it!" exclaimed Taurion joyfully (and with a hint of satisfaction, Frodo was sure).

"Where is she?"

"In the woods."

"In the woods?"

"Uncle Kíli said we could!" Finn shouted back, disappearing into the trees up ahead.

Frodo set off at a run after him with Taurion trotting behind and wondered just how Kíli and dwarflings had made it to the Shire alive without someone supervising them. He just hoped there wasn't anything dangerous left in the forest. Monstrous, hobbit-and-dwarf-devouring spiders for example.

So, how was that? Reviews always appreciated and replied to, especially since I'm looking to see how many people are still interested in this story.

Also as a side note, how many of you listen to music while writing? What are your favourite songs for inspiration? While writing this, I listened to a cover The Parting Glass by Ed Sherran several times, various Enya songs, and Feast of Starlight from the DoS soundtrack. Bet you can't guess which scene I wrote while listening to that :)

Anyhoo, thanks for reading and please review!