Hello FFN! To be honest, I'm cross posting this story from Archive of Our Own, (AO3), because a reviewer there asked me to, something about the format on this site being easier to read, I think. Chapters 1 - 16 will be up one after the other very shortly, after some start and end note changes I need to make.

I don't own 'The Hobbit', and I never will. Enjoy!

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One lone and extremely old hobbit sat under a tree in the Valinor. Bilbo Baggins sighed as he watched the eternal living elves laugh and be merry during one of their many different celebrations. He couldn't remember which one it was that they were celebrating and he honestly didn't care anymore. In his younger years, he would have promptly been horrified at the revelation… but he wasn't 41 years old any longer.

He was 132 years old, and was now simply waiting for Yavanna to call him to her pastures. He wasn't a fool and knew he wouldn't live long enough for the hurts of the past to be healed before he died. All of those hurts…

… The hobbit had watched the funeral with a dead stare. Tears flowed from his eyes, but he didn't react to the wetness, only gazed as Thorin Oakenshield, and his nephews, Fíli and Kíli, were laid to rest in stone tombs deep within Erebor. Two hands unknowingly rested on the hobbit's stomach. He had only found out less than an hour before the funeral, and his dwarf, his lover, his Thorin, now would never know that he would have been a father in about 8 months.

… The Halfling returned to his home only to discover that his belongings were being auctioned off by his aunt, Camellia Sackville-Baggins. She called him a liar, stating that he was not her nephew Bilbo Baggins, and that Bag End now belonged to her son and his new wife. He was already hurting from the lack of three specific dwarves in his life, did she really have to cut him off from his father's side of the family and make things worse?

…. His father's family had been horrified when they discovered that he was pregnant out of wedlock, and by a dwarf, no less. Bilbo had refused to end the pregnancy, the babe being the last piece of Thorin that he had, and he was too far along, (7 1/2 months), to terminate the pregnancy anyway. He had two choices, keep the babe and have his feet hair burned off, thus casting him and his son out of the Shire with nothing but the clothes on their backs, or give the babe to one of the Baggins clan members to raise away from his 'strangeness'.

… Not 2 minutes after giving birth, Bilbo had to give his newborn son to his Uncle Fosco and Aunt Ruby Baggins née Bolger. He had no choice, no one to turn to if he had kept his baby. His kin saw him as strange. Most of the dwarves saw him as 'the Arkenstone Thief' and would not welcome him, but would most likely take his son to raise as a Prince of Durin's Line. If one of the company aided him, they would most likely be banished for what they did, and Bilbo could not do that to his friends.

… Frodo was the only thing that kept him going in life. Uncle Fosco's and Aunt Ruby's son, Drogo Baggins, and his new wife, Primula Baggins née Brandybuck, were given Frodo to raise after they married. To his beloved son, Bilbo was known as the crazy old cousin who had gone off on an adventure and was not right in his head anymore, and then as Uncle Bilbo after he adopted the boy back into his life when Drogo and Primula drowned. Frodo never knew that Bilbo was his birth mother.

… Bilbo wept as his beloved son set out from Rivendell. After his display when he had given Frodo his 'letter-opener', Sting, and the mithril shirt that Thorin had given to him before the Battle of Five Armies, he didn't trust himself to bid his child good-bye at the gate, fearing that he would attempt to take the One Ring of Sauron again. So he watched from a window a good distance away. It would be the last time he saw ever Frodo remotely whole again.

… Frodo screamed. It was the day again, the day oh-so many years later that the Nazgul's blade had pieced the hobbit's flesh. He would always have these nightmares and phantom aches till the end of his days. As much as Bilbo wanted to go and comfort the lad, his legs wouldn't allow him to move on his own, and he had to rely on others to tend to his son. Lord Elrond had long ago figured that when Frodo cried out in pain like this was when Bilbo was the most coherent, and asked if he would go with Gandalf, Frodo, and several others to the Undying Lands for healing in a few months. Of course, Bilbo said yes, if only for the sake his child.

So much hurt had happened throughout his life, namely because he had been a fussy hobbit who had cared more about maintaining his family's respectable reputation then truly finding a way to keep the ones he cared about whole and safe. He wished that he had turned around after he had gotten to the Shire and gone back to Rivendell, or not left Rivendell at all. Or maybe even not have left Beorn's house after winter had ended, like the gentle skin-changer had offered.

Oh how selfish he had been…

He could have done more on the journey to Erebor, like learn how to use Sting properly, and not be so fussy about handkerchiefs and when the next meal was going to be. He could have done research about his 'funny little magic ring' instead of keeping it tucked away for his own personal use. The elves surely would have had something on the rings of power, and he could have destroyed it instead of the cursed item ruining Frodo's life.

"You wish to change these events?" a woman's voice said.

Bilbo looked up, and even with his failing eyes he could see that she wasn't an elf, or even one of the Maia. She was a Valar, and if the green and growing plants that covered her dress and grew in her long hair were any indication, she was either, Vana or…

"Lady Yavanna." Bilbo bowed as best he could.

"Rise, my little hobbit." Yavanna replied, and Bilbo sat back up, although it took him a few extra seconds to get there.

"Is it my time?" Bilbo asked.

"Maybe, it depends on your answer." Yavanna replied. "Do you recall what I asked?"

Did he wish to change these events, the ones that had caused so much hurt? Keep Thorin, Fíli, and Kíli from dying… actually have good relationships with all members of his family… never have Frodo march off to return with his spirit tattered and torn from all he had to endure…

"Of course I do." Bilbo nodded. "But that is not possible. No one has ever gone back in time to change what has happened. Glorfindel, Beren, and Gandalf were brought back to life, but none of them went back in time to redo their life. They just continued on at present time."

"That is not true little hobbit." Yavanna replied, much to Bilbo's shock. "Every 50-100 years or so, someone is sent back to change things. Some do for better, and some do for worse. You've just never heard about them because history was altered and they didn't say they were sent back. And if some did, they were written off as crazy and locked away because they were 'unfit for society'."

Bilbo shivered. He understood. If he did choose to do this, he couldn't tell anyone due to the risk of being locked away before the quest began. And then his dwarves would probably get eaten by the trolls. Ugh.

"If I did do this… when would I go back to?" Bilbo asked.

"Shortly before the start of the quest to Erebor." Yavanna answered.

It was then that Bilbo realized that the world around him had… frozen, like time had stalled. The elves weren't moving, frozen in mid-dance or mid-song or even mid-feast. His eyes fell on Frodo, who was sitting on a bench next to Gandalf. The two were 'discussing' if they should launch some fireworks, (Frodo), or not, (Gandalf). In Bilbo's opinion, his son was going to win that 'discussion'.

Bilbo's heart ached as he looked at the lad. He desperately had wanted to tell the boy that he was his mother and that Thorin Oakenshield was his father, but he had never found the courage to do so, letting the boy believe Bilbo was nothing more than his cousin/uncle. If going back would change that, change everything so that Frodo would grow up with his true parents in Erebor…

"I'll do it." Bilbo bobbed his head, not willing to pass up this chance to have all of his dwarves live until they were old and grey, and the chance to raise Frodo with the dwobbit never having to endure the journey to Mordor.

"I thought you would." Yavanna nodded and stepped back.

Yavanna raised her arms and slowly lowered them. She glowed even brighter, and Bilbo had to shield his eyes. The petals of cherry blossoms fell over him, and Bilbo felt himself slide into unconsciousness.

"One other thing, your form will be changed." Yavanna whispered, laughing softly.

His form? Was she talking about his swordsmanship skills, or rather his lack of skill? Her improving his skill would be helpful… Or was she referring to his outward appearance? It was most likely the latter, or she wouldn't be laughing.

Oh shit! He wasn't going to be sent back to Middle-Earth as an orc was he!?

More laughter… and then darkness.

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Bilbo awoke to hear birds chirping and the sun gently warming his skin. His hazel eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he did was look at his hands. Oh good, they looked normal. More youthful, like age 40 youthful, but normal. Stretching his arms above his head, Bilbo realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt, which was odd. He always was a stickler for nightclothes, no matter what his age was.

But why was his back aching so much? He wasn't old any more. Sitting up, Bilbo paused. His bed in Bag End was a lot bigger than he remembered, the same with the rest of his room. Then he noted that the ache in his back had eased a touch, but a glitter and something twitching on his back caught his attention. Turning his head back, Bilbo felt his jaw drop. Behind him, attached to him, was a pair of golden transparent wings.

Bilbo started screaming when he realized what had happened.

His bed, and his room, looked a lot bigger because he was six and a half inches tall! And that was because he was a fairy!

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Bilbo had stopped screaming. He was now curled up in his oversized nightshirt, shaking and trying very hard not to cry. When Yavanna said that his form would change, he hadn't realized that she would change him to a fairy! Then again, it was said that his mother's side of the family, the Took side, had dalliances with Fae or Fairies when they first settled in the Shire. Bilbo always thought they were rumors or that they had found themselves partnered with an Elf.

Then someone knocked on the front door. Bilbo gasped, and sat up, his oversized nightshirt pooling around his naked body. He couldn't let anyone see him like this! Unless it was Gandalf… Then the hobbit-turned-tiny-fairy paused. The knocks hadn't been the light hobbit knocks, they had been three hard pounds. Bilbo had heard many hard pounds over his life, and only knew one person, one dwarf, that had ever knocked like that.

"Thorin?" Bilbo whispered, and glanced to his window.

Yep, the sun was defiantly up, though it was only early morning… could he dare to hope…? Could it be possible that he had not been sent back alone? Bilbo looked for the calendar that hung in his room. April 14th, 1331 by Shire Reckoning, or the year 2931* of the Third Age, two weeks before Gandalf would come to his smial in search of a burglar. Hope filled his body. He rolled off to the side of his bed and swung his legs down before realizing what a long drop it now was to the floor.

"AH!" Bilbo screamed as he fell.

The hobbit-fairy grabbed his bedding and found himself dangling halfway from the top of the bed to the floor. This was going to be a problem. Slowly Bilbo unclenched his fist and began to lower himself.

"Master Baggins?"

Thorin's voice. Bilbo looked up as he heard the dwarf's boots clumping threw his smial. Oh, he'd better have wiped his feet first. Wait, had Thorin heard him scream as he tumbled over the edge of his bed? That tiny shriek?

"Bilbo?" Thorin called, sounding worried.

That sealed it. There was no way that the Thorin who had dismissed Bilbo as a grocer before even getting to know him would be this concerned about him before the quest to Erebor.

"I'm in my bedroom!" Bilbo yelled as he tried to climb down his bedding some more.

It didn't work out that way though. Despite Bilbo trying to climb down, his new wings kept fluttering like mad and lifted him up and away from the bed. Bilbo clung tightly to the covers, but his add-ons flapped even more, pulling him away until he lost his grip and flapped back a few inches. And then his wings stopped totally. Bilbo was now above the hard wooden floor with nothing but air around him.

This was going to hurt.

"GYAH!" Bilbo screamed as he began to plummet down chest first. "Oof!"

Touch down…?

"Ow." Bilbo groaned.

The landing had hurt, just as he had predicted. He opened his eyes, (when had they closed?), and saw that he was not on the floor like he thought he was. He was a good two inches away from the ground, lying on a hand. Large, calloused, and a bit dirty, but it was a hand. Cloth covered his lower body as he was pulled up and away from the floor. Panting, Bilbo turned his head as he sat up and pulled his legs under him while pulling the blue handkerchief around his front. Raven black hair and short beard, regal nose, noble brow, and piercing sapphire blue eyes.

Thorin Oakenshield.

"Thorin…" Bilbo whispered, and nearly winced at how broken he sounded.

"Bilbo." Thorin breathed, panting from his rush through the hobbit's smial.

The two stared at each other, the hobbit-fairy kneeling in the dwarf's hand. Then the tears came. Bilbo began to cry again, this time from sheer relief. This was Thorin, his Thorin. The Thorin he had stabbed an orc for, had followed threw a sick forest and down a rapid filled river for, had given his love to and rejoiced when it was returned, had gone into a dragon's den in search of a jewel for, had given away said jewel to prevent war for, had chased after too warn about another army for… had held his hand as his life faded away…

Bilbo didn't need to say anything. Thorin brought his right hand up close to the left side of his neck, where little arms clung tightly to him and small tears dampened his clothes. He knew that Bilbo had been hurt by his actions, first belittling the hobbit before the Carrock, banishing him when he tried to prevent war, tossing aside their love and secretly shared moments like they were nothing more than dirty laundry beyond salvaging. And then he had gone and died. Now Thorin had the chance to make things right with his small burglar.

Speaking of small…

"What happened to you?" Thorin asked as Bilbo's tears began to subside. "You had about three more feet in height last time I saw you."

"Yavanna said my form would be changed, and I woke up like this." Bilbo replied as he wiped his eyes dry with the hankie that was still covering his naked body. "I'm just glad I wasn't turned into an orc."

"Fair point." Thorin admitted.

The dwarf leaned against one of the post of Bilbo's bed frame. His hobbit that had traveled with him to Erebor once before or not, Bilbo would pitch a fit if he dirtied up his bed sheets and night clothes. But at this current size, all of Bilbo's clothes were pretty much useless to him, and Thorin doubted that the hobbit-fairy had a sewing needle his size to make adjustments with.

"Now what?" Thorin sighed.

"I guess that we get go to Tuckborough." Bilbo replied as he adjusted the blue handkerchief a bit. "There were rumors that my ancestors had dalliances with the fair folk, but I had always dismissed them as rumors or believed that they had been elves. If anyone would have information, it would be the Took's."

Why couldn't his clothes have shrunk with him? Bilbo growled as he pulled at the handkerchief again. Thorin chuckled, which earned him a dark glare from the hobbit-fairy, which got more chuckles from the dwarf. Bilbo's glares made him look like he was pouting, and that made him look cute, and Bilbo hated that, and it was just so funny! Of course, you did not tell Bilbo he was cute. It made him turn up his nose and declare that gentlehobbits were never ever even considered to be cute by any standards.

"I think we need to make you some temporary clothes first." Thorin said, once he got his sniggers under control. "You can't go about the Shire in my hankie, or your bare skin."

"I should go about in just my skin." Bilbo mused as Thorin stood, earning a startled look from the dwarf. "See what sort of scandal I can cause before we leave for Erebor."

"You mean letting your kin see that you are six and a half inches tall and have wings isn't scandalous enough?" Thorin resorted.

Bilbo just grinned impishly, and the dwarf groaned. He recalled the tales that Bilbo had told to his nephews, and how Fíli and Kíli had tried to get the hobbit to help them with their pranks, but they were, thankfully, met with refusal. Bilbo had claimed he was too old to participate in such shenanigans anymore and that it was the younger generations turn now. But that tales of the mischief the hobbit had gotten into in his youth was on par with Fíli and Kíli, and with Thorin and his younger brother Frerin, before the dwarf had died at Azanulbizar.

"Alright." Bilbo conceded. "Some sort of clothes for the tiny hobbit-fairy-thingy."

"Hobbit-fairy-thingy?" Thorin repeated.

"Well I still look like a hobbit, just a whole lot shorter and with wings." Bilbo pointed out.

Thorin had to concede. Bilbo still had his curly hair, large pointed ears, (they were not elf ears, they were wider!), small hobbit tummy, and large feet with hair growing on top. The only physical differences were the height and the wings.

"If you would direct me to your sewing supplies I'll see if I can make you some pants, and possibly a shirt." Thorin looked around the hobbit's bedroom, as if the supplies would start jumping up and down to indicate their location.

"They're in my sitting room." Bilbo said. "And you can sew?"

"Someone had to repair my torn trousers when I was on the road." Thorin replied as he left the bedroom in search of the sitting room. "My sister certainly wasn't around to do it."

"Turn around." Bilbo sighed, a fond smile on his face. "Still route challenged above a mountain, I see."

Thorin grunted in response, making Bilbo snicker. Thorin's sense of direction was a bit of a sore spot with the dwarf. He was willing to put up with some ribbing and gentle teasing, but only so much and from certain dwarves or one special hobbit-now-fairy. So, Bilbo dropped the subject and asked Thorin to close the door to his smial before some overly curious neighbors took the opened door as an invitation to invite themselves in.

Once the door was closed, Bilbo directed Thorin to the sitting room, and to his sewing items. The dwarf gently placed the handkerchief wrapped Bilbo on a pillow that was laid flat so the hobbit could keep close. Then he expertly threaded the needle with some string, and started to rummage through the scrap bag in search of several large enough piece of cloth that he could change into clothes.

"Thorin." Bilbo's voice made him turn to look at the hobbit-fairy. "You're here early. Last time you got lost twice and were late. How could you possibly be here two weeks early?"

"Mahal appeared to me in his halls." Thorin replied. "This was after the War of the Ring, you and our son had departed for the undying lands."

At this point, Bilbo choked up as he remembered Frodo. How in all of Middle-Earth would he conceive their son now? He was tiny, probably even smaller than Thorin's dwarfhood, so there was no way that they would actually be able perform the act of conceiving a child. Had the hobbit-fairy condemned their small dwobbit child to not exist with his choice? Thorin picked him up and held him close again as tears flowed out of his eyes again. He couldn't imagine a life without his dwobbit child, and didn't want to know what would happen if Frodo didn't exist.

"The dwarves in the Halls of Mahal can view loved ones on the mortal plains, through some magic of the Valar." Thorin continued. "I kept close watch on you and our son. I wept with you as you made the choice to provide for him, thus sacrificing him knowing the truth, but not ever knowing hunger or fear at such a young age."

Bilbo's body shook as he continued to cry, the occasional whimper slipping loose. There had been times that he swore he felt Thorin's presence, and he had been right. Thorin knew of the heartache he had gone through, even if he hadn't physically been there with him. He had actually thought he had gone crazy, but the presence and Frodo's existence were what kept him from killing himself.

"Mahal told me that Yavanna had petitioned Eru Ilúvatar to give you another chance." Thorin went on with his story. "So he petitioned on my behalf, claiming that you didn't deserve to go through the quest and all that had happened after alone again. Of course I jumped at the chance to be able to help you again. After all the shit I put you threw last time, it was the least I could do.

"As he cast his… spell, or whatever it was, he told me you would immediately need my aid because his wife has an odd sense of humor at times. I awoke the day after I had appealed to the other dwarf lords to march on Erebor and was rejected. Instead of spending the next week trying to convince them to help, since I knew that they would not, I bid them farewell and made all haste here as quick as I could. And I can see that Mahal was right. You did, and do, need help."

"No kidding." Bilbo sighed as he wiped his eyes dry again. "I woke up just this morning. And I was a good three feet shorter than normal, and had some extra appendages that like to cause trouble."

"I saw." Thorin admitted with a twisted smile.

"Excuse me?" Bilbo blinked.

"Excused." Thorin smirked at Bilbo's glare. "I saw your wings pull you away from your bed, you clinging to the sheets the way Kíli clings to raspberry tarts. I admit of all the things I thought you would need my aid with, this was not one of them."

This being, getting from point A to point B without getting so badly side-tracked by a pair of wings, making new clothes, and then to be journeying to ones family to see if they had any info on what Bilbo could do now that he was a fairy. It was a bit mind boggling for the dwarf, and the hobbit, to have such a thing happen.

"I wasn't expecting this either." Bilbo sighed, and curled up against Thorin's neck.

The two lapsed into silence, which was soon broken by a rumbling tummy. Both hobbit and dwarf blinked at the noise and looked at each other before the stomach sounded off again. The hobbit blushed as his hands covered his belly, as if that would stop the noises it was making. Another loud grumble was heard, even noisier then the first two.

"Looks like you need some food." Thorin said as he bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"Yeah." Bilbo agreed, his face red like one of his tomatoes.

"I'll be right back." Thorin set the small hobbit-fairy back on his pillow and went to the hobbit's pantry.

It was there that Thorin realized another problem. All of the food here was meant for a full grown hobbit, not a six and a half inches tall hobbit-fairy. With a sigh, Thorin grabbed a plate and placed some small portions of bread, meat, and fruit on the plate. Hopefully, Bilbo would be able to tear the food into smaller pieces. Thorin himself would eat what the little hobbit-fairy didn't consume. Of course, Thorin should have remembered that hobbits have a huge appetite. And being tinier didn't side-track that large desire for food one bit. Bilbo hummed contentedly as he finished the last of the bread, before stretching out on his pillow and curling up like a cat with the hankie tucked around him. Thorin chuckled as Bilbo dozed off.

There really should be a law against looking that cute.

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*Yes, this is 10 years prior to the book/movie cannon. Bilbo is 40, not 50. I like having him younger.

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Pairings seen for the first time: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield

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Timeline

Some point in October of the 1st year of the Fourth Age: Bilbo agrees to Lady Yavanna's proposal to travel back in time. Thorin agrees to Lord Aulë/Mahal's proposal to travel back in time. Bilbo and Thorin Time Travel into the past.

April 14th, year 2931 of the Third Age: two weeks before the start of the book/movie, Bilbo awakens in Bag End as a hobbit-fairy, and Thorin arrives early with his memories of their past lifetime.