Hello everyone!

EDIT: So sorry everyone! I mistakenly uploaded a draft not the final chapter! Blame a lack of coffee and a late night.

Thank you for all the reviews, favourites, follows and views. I know I say this every time, but I really do appreciate every one of you.

I am so sorry for the delay, again. I'm starting to sound like a broken record, and for that I apologise too. But I'm sure you know how it is. I've been dealing with some stuff both online and off and have had to take a step back from the platform for a little while. I hope you understand.

Just so people are aware, this will be an inclusive story. There will be no bias towards sexual orientation. I'm stating now that this is my work of FANfiction, this is not canon, this is a work of fiction of my OWN creation, no on else's and will reflect my beliefs on relationships other than heterosexual. Love is love. I will make no attempt to hide this in my writing. If this is not your cup of tea, I understand. Thank you for having read so far, and I wish you the best.

That over with, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

I own nothing but Rosalyn and my original storyline for her. The Hobbit and LOTR are works belonging to Tolkien and his estate. All creative output by Peter Jackson, Philippa Boyens and Fran Walsh, and their interpretation belongs to them and all the relevant parties.

Chapter 8

Waking was a slow thing. Blinking away gritty sleep stuck to my eyelashes, I was aware of cold air and the smell of woodsmoke over my skin. Had I not woken? Was I still trapped in the dream that felt of heat and tasted like bitter ashes? Fighting the restraints around my legs, I sat up to see my open window and the dead fire in the hearth. The bounds, my blanket tangled around my calves. Unlike other dreams, this one escaped my waking mind with frustrating ease. Imprints left like footsteps on my subconscious mind. Whatever I had dreamt, be it memory or vision, I could not recall any part of it now. It left only the weight of anticipation behind and feeling of soot under my fingernails.

Chirps of birdsong helped to sooth, and it took a moment for my heartbeat to calm. Had my anxieties about leaving Hobbiton affected my sleep? I suppose it wasn't too big of a leap to make. I was nervous, and excited. At last I was going to see Middle Earth beyond the borders of Hobbiton. I couldn't wait. Sure, the unknown terrified me, especially as I would be travelling with these veritable strangers, but it was a good fear. Much the same as the feeling that had overcome me when I'd knocked at Bilbo's door. It surprised me how far I had come since that night. How much I had accomplished, and how well I'd adjusted given the circumstances.

Thinking on those who had welcomed me with open arms, of Daisy's sweet face, and Hilda's easy smile, I felt sad. I'd be leaving everything I knew. Yet, if I didn't leave now, I had a feeling, a gut instinct, that I never would in the future. I knew the chances of ever knowing everything was slim, but I had to hope and I had to try. Even if it meant leaving the only safety I knew.

The first fingers of sunlight were creeping across the horizon, bathing the sky a soft orange. It was a beautiful sight. The sun fell over the land with grace. Soft rises of every hill basked in an amber glow. The dewy grass glistening and bright headed blossoms in gardens illuminated like lanterns.

"Bakn galikh."

Looking to my right I saw the owner of the deep, croaked voice. He was dressed, but sleep rumpled. I wondered if I looked as dishevelled. His braids a little looser than they had been the night before, and his cheek fabric creased. The sight of the red lines brought an unexpected surge of warmth to my chest. I hadn't checked on the Dwarves as I passed the parlour on my way outside. Had I woken him when I opened the front door?

"What was that?"

"Bakn galikh," Fíli repeated. "It means good morning."

"Oh, then bakn galikh to you as well." I hope I pronounced that correctly.

He chuckled, eyes creasing.

"You're getting the hang of the accent," he praised, which I was sure wasn't true, but didn't say anything in reply as he smiled at me. "We'll have you fluent in no time."

I was sure he hadn't meant it in any way other than flattering, but I began to worry. Had they spoken about my inability to speak and understand Khuzdul last night? Had Thorin changed this mind about my accompanying them? Fíli didn't give anything away in his expression, and stepped forward to stand beside me, looking out at the view. His side profile was regal. The shape of his nose was straight and noble, while the purse of his lips was lush and indulgent. Still, the faint scent of woodsmoke and pine wafted from him. What was it about those scents on him that made my fingers twitch? I fought to keep my composure and looked out onto Hobbiton too, drinking in the view.

The Green Dragon's doors were wide open, someone sweeping debris from the night before out onto the grass. This early, the market stalls had not yet been set up. But I spied several smial doors open, provisions for the market day stacked in gardens. Even as I was preparing to leave, life went on, undeterred.

"Will you be sad to leave?"

"I will," I admitted, nodding. "But I know that this is not where I came from. I want to find my family."

He made a soft humming sound. "And if the worst has happened?"

I'd already considered that. Right from the first night, it had been a strength ebbing fear that rotted in the depths of my mind. What if I was alone? It had taken several days of Bilbo's persistent company and hearty warmth to prove to that I hadn't truly been alone.

"Then I shall find a new family, a new home," I told him, looking out as the sun continued its path upwards, not wanting to see pity in his eyes. "Perhaps I will come back here? It feels like a home should. Bilbo has already said his door is always open should I ever want to come back."

His voice was soft as the sunlight. "So, you'd live with him?"

"I suppose so, yes."

"But why? There are so many clans out there, Dwarf clans," he clarified. "That would be honoured to have you among their ranks."

"That's it. Bilbo told me about how Dwarf clans work. I don't want to be 'among the ranks'. I want to be an individual. I want to be able to stand on my own. Finding my family only answers my questions about my past. It doesn't dictate who I will be in the future."

If he disagreed with me, he didn't say. After a moment, I saw him nod from the corner of my eye. "An honourable quest."

"Like yours."

We were quiet for a little while, watching the landscape come alive. The air around us felt tight, like cloth stretched too far. Something would have to give soon to relieve the tension.

When he spoke again, he was quiet. "It is not for me, nor any of us to judge how you spend the rest of your life, Rosalyn."

"I sense there's more you wish to say."

He nodded. "You would be a rarity, Dwarrowdam do not…leave. It is not done. We are a race which stays together."

I scoffed. "The clans might not be so perturbed by my joining them when they discover I'm only a HalfBlood."

Fíli was quiet.

"Fíli?"

"I cannot argue with you," he admitted. "You're right. As much as I wish my elders to be more accepting…they have reason to be cautious of the unknown."

The unknown. I was an unknown. How many more labels would I acquire before our quest ended? Ignoring the catch in my throat at the word, knowing he didn't mean it to be a slight, I tried to see my situation as an outsider would. How would a Dwarf who did not know my circumstances react, meeting me?

"I understand," the words at last came in a whisper. "I could come back here, after we're done."

"To the Shire?" He asked, turning to look at me. I'd surprised him.

"Hobbiton, Bilbo's offer is generous."

"But why the Hobbit?"

"I think he's lonely."

Fíli grew quiet and contemplative, looking down at his feet.

"Would you be happy here?" He finally asked, voice quiet under the sound of the approaching cart and pony.

"I think I would." I knew I would be. But I also knew I would never stop questioning what might have happened if I'd remained with the Dwarves. "And perhaps, well, perhaps you could all visit us?"

I turned to face him and caught his soft smile. "I would be honoured."

We stood again in companionable silence, watching as more signs of life popped up around us.

"That's a beautiful dress," he complimented all of a sudden.

"Thank you." I ran my hands over the skirt, fingering the embroidery. "It's the one I woke up in."

"It is?"

I nodded, watching him. Could he tell me anything about it?

"Yes…do you recognise it? Hilda said that the stitching was unorthodox for Hobbits. Is it possible that it's Dwarven? From what I've seen, Hobbit clothing isn't as intricate as this."

Fíli apprised the dress, and though I knew he was looking at the garment and not my body, I could still feel my cheeks flushing.

"It is of Dwarven make," he at last confirmed when I could bare his silence no longer. He reached out to brush the sleeve at my elbow, and the fabric caught on the rough pads of his fingers. "It would have cost a pretty penny. This isn't some hand-me-down, it was made for you."

I looked down at my sleeve, and saw the callouses on his hand before he pulled away. There was a white, wrinkled scar on the meat of his palm. It couldn't have been longer than my index finger. Which meant it was almost the width of his hand.

"It was?" I asked, frowning at the scar. "How can you tell?"

"The fit, the fabric, the lace," he explained. I looked back up in time to see him clenching his jaw. His ease hardened, all evidence of sleepiness clearing from his features. His shoulders fell back, his eyes sharpening to flint, and hands bunching into fists by his side.

"What is it?"

He shook his head, lips pressed so tight they paled.

"Nothing," he shook off my concern. "If you want to know more, Dori will be of more help than I."

With that he offered me a stiff smile before turning on his heel and walking back into the house. Baffled, I could only watch as he left. He was angry, that much was clear, but why? What did this dress tell him that angered him so? And why did his sudden absence leave me feeling hollow?

Back in the house, the air was thick with silence. No one wanted to wake their reluctant host. Not even Gandalf who sat in the kitchen, hands clasped on the table as he watched the Dwarves. There were no words exchanged about readiness. All the packs were by the door ready for their owners to pick them up. The company tidied with the same precision as they had washed up the night before. Cleaning the carpets, rearranging the parlour furniture as it had been. Even sweeping up all the crumbs left from their food throwing last night.

Fíli avoided my gaze as I passed him in the hallway, and despite my best efforts, I looked for his eyes to meet mine. Kíli stopped in his tracks when he saw his brother step around me. I gave him a smile, hoping he wouldn't ask me what was wrong. He didn't, but followed his brother with a small frown.

I was left to my own devises, and finishing my own packing was easy. I already had everything Bilbo had given me the night before squared away in the backpack. Except for my nightgown, which I folded and left in the dresser, knowing I would not have the luxury of changing on the road. It looked small on the bedsheets. Perhaps it could be a token to remind me to return. That there was some part of my life still here to pull me back, some remnant of normalcy.

I was the last to leave the smial, but no one tried to hurry me. I took a moment to go about and touch mine and Bilbo's chairs. Saying goodbye to him in person would be too painful, I knew that. But as I spied the contract left on the ottoman, I couldn't help but smile. There was hope Bilbo would come with us yet. The parchment's presence inspired a wave of bravery and I took out the dagger Bilbo had given me the night before. He had been so adamant I should have it, but now it could be the push to get him to follow us. Even if only to give it back to me.

Placing it beside the contract, I took a deep breath.

This was it.

Fastening my cloak about my neck and shouldering my pack, I took another deep breath as I stepped over the threshold. They were all there waiting for me, some with sympathetic smiles, others with solemn eyes. Still, Fíli did not meet my gaze. Gandalf stood at the open gate, staff in hand as he watched the parlour window. Had he been the one to leave the contract?

Bofur closed the door behind me. He reached out and patted my shoulder.

"Endings always mean new beginnings," he told me, smiling wide before walking down the steps.

Taking a last look at the holly green door, I followed him.

"That's very wise," I said and he laughed.

"It's very stolen," he retorted. " Just don't tell my mother, she'd have my hide!"

Led by Gandalf, we were certainly a sight, traipsing through the lanes. People came out of their homes to watch us, wide eyed as they saw the Dwarves. Several rubbed their eyes as if to check they weren't dreaming, much to my amusement. It reminded me of Bilbo the night before and his insistence that the company was appearing from thin air. When some Hobbits saw me, sometimes they smiled and waved. It felt nice to be seen among the Dwarves, and warmed my heart to know that Bilbo wasn't the only reason people had acknowledged to me this past week. Others called out, asking where I was going and what was occurring. Their concern was flattering, and with every vague answer I gave, the gossiping that drifted down the hill increased.

I was answering another question when a voice, young and feminine, shouted: "Rosie!"

"Daisy?" I wondered aloud, not seeing her anywhere.

What was she doing about so early?

"Rosie! I'm here!"

She was behind us, running as fast as her legs could take her until she launched herself at me. Her arms going about my neck, spry legs snapping around my waist. My arms came to hold her to me as I stumbled under her sudden weight.

"Where are you going?" She demanded. "Who are they? Where are they taking you? Why are you leaving?"

"Oh, Daisy, darling," I lamented, finding that leaving the Shire was not going to be as pain free as I had imagined.

"Everything all right?" Kíli asked as he came to a stop beside me.

Daisy turned her sharp eyes onto him.

"You!" She half shouted as she stared him down with a cross frown. "Where are you taking my Rosie?"

Kíli blinked, unsure whether or not to take the little Hobbit seriously.

"Your Rosie?"

"Yes!" Daisy answered, sounding all the more desperate. I could see water gathering in her eyes and the tip of her nose reddening. "She's mine and you can't have her!"

"What's all this?" Fíli asked.

"You better leave my Rosie alone!" She was quick to threaten him as he appeared at Kíli's side, a brandished finger wagging with a ferocity that rivalled her mother's.

"Easy little lass," Fíli placated, holding up his hands in surrender. "We're not gonna hurt her."

The other members of the company were standing ahead of us, waiting impatiently. I could see Nori and Bofur chatting together with large grins curling on their faces. Meanwhile, Gandalf was conversing with Farmer Worrywart about his tubers, if I was not mistaken.

Daisy paused, watching Fíli with a shrewd expression. The tears were held at bay, but she sniffed and rubbed her nose.

Her voice wobbled as she asked, "You're not?"

"No, Daisy," I reassured her, having to rearrange her in my arms as she began to slip. "They won't hurt me. I thought your mother explained everything to you?"

Her lower lip disappeared into her mouth as she bit down on it. "She said you were leaving."

I suppose I was foolish to think Daisy would have reacted any other way. She'd heard I was leaving and blotted out anything else her mother had told her. I wouldn't be surprised if their front door was left wide open, and her breakfast abandoned on the kitchen table.

"I'm going with them."

She blinked owlishly at me. "But why?"

"They're Dwarves," I explained, and watched as she took in the rest of the company over my shoulder. "And they can help me find my family."

Her eyelashes became wet as she sniffed again.

"But, but you already have a family! Here!"

"I know, I do sweetheart, but I need to find out where I came from."

She again bit her lip, her hands fisting in my dress. I held her to me with equal fierceness, feeling a pain in my breast. This is what I had wanted to avoid by telling her parents. How could I leave her when she looked at me with tears in her eyes? When she adamantly told me I already had a family? When it felt like by going with the Dwarves, I was betraying her?

"But why?"

"So I can come back here with all my questions answered."

She took a moment to digest my words, and her face didn't betray any emotion as to what she was thinking. Then, she narrowed her still glossy eyes at the brothers.

"You're taking Rosie to her family and then bringing her straight back?" She questioned them with a shrewd expression.

The brothers began shaking their heads.

"You see lass…" Kíli started to explain.

"I said," she raised her voice, hands forming fists on her hips as she leant backwards in my arms to pin them with her stare. "You're taking Rosie to her family and then bringing her straight back? Right?"

Fíli was quick to catch on, nodding placatingly. "Right you are, lass."

She watched him for along moment, ignoring the complaints being voiced ahead of us. It sounded like Dori lamenting the hold up and Thorin cursing ever entering Hobbiton. Fíli ignored the interruptions, met Daisy's gaze and kept it until she was satisfied.

"Good," she said. "And if she's not back by midwinter, I'll come and find you!"

"We're going to the other side of Middle Earth, Daisy," Fíli pointed out, trying to reason with her. "It will take many months. Maybe even a year."

She ignored his attempts. "If she's not back in a years' time, I'll come and find you!"

Though it was comical to see her threaten them both, who easily had a combined eighty years on her, I knew it was not an empty threat. To try and spare the brothers anymore of her withering glare, I patted her back to regain her attention.

"If I cannot come back within that time," I compromised. "I promise to send word."

She finally turned her big eyes onto me. Her wet eyes and wobbling bottom lip pained me in a way different to leaving Bilbo or bidding her parents goodbye. Sometimes I forgot how young she was.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

She weighed my words for a moment, sniffing.

Fíli cleared his throat and shifted his weight. Clearly he wanted to move this along.

"You think you could let her go now, lass?"

"Not till I'm ready!" She snapped.

Snubbed, Fíli backed off and Kíli laughed at his brother which earned him a slap upside the head. I laughed at her behaviour, so like her mother.

"Is cousin Bilbo going with you?" She asked.

"No, he hasn't joined us yet."

"Yet?"

"He's packing."

"Oh." She chewed on her lip as she digested my words. "So, where are you going?"

I couldn't tell her the whole truth, but I couldn't lie to her.

"On an adventure."

She brightened, tears and tantrums forgotten. "An adventure? Can I come?"

"I'm afraid not, sweetheart."

"But why?" She whined.

"If you came, your mother would be very angry at me."

"We don't have to tell her!"

The brothers chortled. I ignored them.

"Yes, I'm afraid we would," I insisted, much to her disappointment. "Because where we are going is very far away and I don't want to take you from your mother and father for so long."

She sniffed again. "But I don't want you to go."

I rubbed her back. "I know."

"And you will come back?"

"I will."

She made me promise twice more before we could hear Hilda's calls for her daughter. Daisy made a face that told me she had either sunk out or ran from home to find me, and wriggled to get down. One last hug, and biting remark to the brothers about keeping their promises, and she was off. We watched her run back towards the market and I saw Hilda waiting there for her. She raised a hand, which I returned, a dull goodbye after our tearful one. Kíli jogged ahead to catch up with the rest of the company, but Fíli remained with me as I watched Hilda take Daisy back home.

"Will you be all right?" He asked, all trace of his earlier tension gone.

For a moment, I contemplated running to Hilda. To return to the safety I knew I had here. It took seeing Fíli's soft, concerned expression to remind me what could yet lie ahead.

"I will, in time. It's hard to say goodbye to the only family I've ever known. At least now I've still got something to return to."

"Didn't I say it was a waste of time?" Dori grumbled.

The company had taken Bilbo's refusal to join them as a personal affront. Some were dealing with it better than others.

"That's true enough!" Glóin agreed.

Thorin had been quiet all morning. Even when the rest of them asked me about Daisy, he had remained mute. Now, I could see his shoulders were tense as the current conversation grew in strength.

"Ridiculous notion," Dori continued, to the muttered agreement of several others. "Use a Hobbit? A Halfling? Whose idea was it anyway?"

"Wait!" Came Bilbo's voice from behind us, breaking the sour air. "Wait!"

"Halt!" Thorin called from the front of the troop.

Beaming, I turned to see Bilbo panting as he ran up the incline towards us. He was red in the face. Had he run the entire way from Bag End? Kíli laughed beside me but I ignored him. What mattered was that Bilbo was here, even if he wasn't exactly fit.

"I signed it!" Bilbo called, smiling as he offered the contract up to Balin for consideration. "Here."

The Dwarf perused the contract with a wry glance and an eyeglass. Bilbo shifted on his feet and looked about at everyone as we waited. A few of the other Dwarves were already smiling in welcome, all of whom had bet on Bilbo's swift addition to the company after eavesdropping on mine and Fíli's conversation. Notable sour faces included Dori, Dwalin and Thorin. Though I couldn't be sure who was trying their hardest to hide their feelings, for all three were frowning equally as deep.

"Everything appears to be in order," Ballin decreed with a secret smile in the corner of his mouth. "Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

There was a chorus of likewise greetings from the rest, and I noticed Dori rolling his eyes skyward. Bilbo greeted them back, at a more sedate tone as he approached me, wagging a finger just as his young cousin had earlier. Maybe it was a family trait?

"I believe I said this was yours to take?" He questioned with pursed lips as he held out the dagger.

I took it gladly with a smile, hugging the dagger rather than him.

"Thank you, and you had, but I hadn't made you aware of the stipulation to my using it."

He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Oh?"

"That you come with me and it."

The barked laughter that left Bilbo's lips was echoed by the Dwarves around us, and I could see Gandalf chuckling to himself too. I couldn't stop smiling, my cheeks were aching. Bilbo shook his head at me, but his eyes held a fond warmth to them as he watched me replace the dagger into my own backpack.

"We'll have to get him a pony," Thorin grumbled, guiltlessly interrupting the moment.

Bilbo, rather than being grateful for this acknowledgement of his accompaniment, looked panicked.

"No, no, no," he pleaded, shaking his head as his eyes grew wide. "That won't be necessary. Thank you. I'm sure I can keep up on foot. I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know?"

"Nonsense!" Kíli cried, clapping a hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "We're not walking the whole way to Erebor!"

Bilbo paled and seemed to shrink under the weight of Kíli's hand. Or was it the realisation that he would have to get on a horse at some point?

"Come on Nori, pay up!" Óin called, before catching the small purse of gold with ease.

I looked ahead and saw that Nori wasn't displeased at losing the bet. In fact there was a small grin about the corners of his lips that told me this was not going to be the only bet on this voyage.

Fíli and Kíli shared amused looks as they walked either side of me.

"One more," Fíli called, before catching his own purse with a chuckle. I eyed the bag but said nothing, wondering when he had placed his bet.

Óin smiled at him. "Thanks for the tip, lad."

Bilbo was confused and looked up to the Wizard who had moved to walk beside him.

"What's that about?"

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

"And what did you think?"

"Hmm," Gandalf hummed before snatching his own purse out of the air before it made contact with his face. He chuckled at Bilbo's astonishment. "My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second."

Bilbo sneezed.

"Oh it's the pollen, rotten time of year," he bemoaned.

"But it's not spring." Ori posed an interesting conundrum.

He was right, at the end of summer, hay fever was not common. Unfortunately for Bilbo, this was hay fever season for him, and him alone. He theorised it was the grass cuttings around Hobbiton that did it.

He then rooted around in his pockets.

"No, wait, wait, stop. Stop! We have to go back."

"What on earth is the matter?"

"I've forgotten my handkerchief."

Bofur tore off a strip from his shirt and threw it to Bilbo.

"Here, use this."

It was caught, but the stained piece of fabric failed to pass Bilbo's inspection. He pursed his lips and closed his eyes. No one else bothered to linger on his dismay.

"Move on."

Gandalf chuckled as we continued. "You'll have to manage without pocket handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach our journey's end. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire. But home in now behind you. The world is ahead."

Not wanting to argue with Gandalf, I took out one of the handkerchiefs from my backpack once he walked away. When I handed it to Bilbo his face sagged with relief.

"Bless you," he murmured, before blowing his nose. He gave me a thankful nod before catching up with the group.

Fíli chuckled beside me. "Are all Hobbits this mystifying?"

I considered this as I watched Bilbo tuck the handkerchief into his pocket. After a moment of deliberation, he folded the torn rag Bofur had given him and pocketed that too.

"Not all," I answered Fíli at last. "But the majority, yes."

"It's a town," I told Ori while rolling my ankles. This was more walking than I was used to. Bilbo had suggested we purchase some boots for me in Bree. What with living with Hobbits for the past week, I hadn't given it much thought. But, after learning the difference between my feet and a Hobbits, I understood some footwear would be useful on our long journey. "Much bigger than Hobbiton, and Bilbo says there's so many Big Folk here!"

We had come to the gated entrance of Bree and were waiting to enter. There were a group of Men ahead of us pulling a large wooden cart filled with boxes. My feet had begun to ache after we crossed the river. The ferry was not what I'd expected. Standing on a small wooden raft with a Wizard, a Hobbit and thirteen Dwarves, there hadn't been much room. Gandalf had gamely suggested two or even three trips, but Thorin hadn't wanted to delay our departure from the Shire any longer than necessary. To my surprise, most of the company had agreed with their leader, despite the limited space and logic of the Wizard's suggestion.

Ori smiled at me, brown eyes wide and hopeful about the possibilities that awaited us in the town. He'd told me all about a type of ink he wished he could purchase. But, due to needing to travel light, he'd only packed the essentials. I inquired what ink would be considered nonessential, and Nori had shaken his head in warning. Ori had then launched into an impassioned lecture on ink make from gemstones. All the while, his brother had rolled his eyes and sighed. It had been both eye-opening and confusing.

"Yeah," Nori agreed from the other side of me. "It's a whole new world 'tis the world of Men."

"Do you have much experience in the world of Men, Nori?"

"Well, love," he began. "More than most Dwarves, if I'm truthful."

"And he rarely is," Dwalin muttered under his breath in front of us.

The Dwarves found this very funny, all dissolving into howling laughter. The like of which I had only heard from the children in Hobbiton. And, even though I didn't understand the joke, I chuckled along with them. Bilbo, on the other hand, was aghast and muttered to himself about proper etiquette around a lady.

Tethered outside The Prancing Pony were a group of ponies. The happenstance was not lost on me, and when I shared it with Glóin he chuckled. The elder Dwarf had fallen back to the end of the group as we'd entered Bree. Bilbo and I had found ourselves walking in the midst of the company. Our height difference made looking pass them difficult. So I didn't see much of Bree as we entered, but the tops of tall buildings and the large gate.

There had been a mixture of emotions as we'd crossed into the town. Some, like Dori and Ori, were intrigued and excited. Others, weary and guarded. It surprised me to see that Fíli and Kíli were one of each category. While Kíli walked along with wide, sparkling eyes of wonder, his brother had a perpetual downturn to his lips. He wasn't the only one, many of our party had fallen silent as we walked the roads of Bree. I imagined it was a product of our new surroundings. Bree was not Hobbiton. That much I could ascertain. Men gambled along with their far reaching arms swinging at their sides. Gandalf, being my only point of reference for the height and manner of Men, differed from them a great deal. He held an air of authority and poise about him. Even as he walked with the use of his staff, no one looked at him with anything but respect. I wondered how well known Gandalf was. How many people in town would recognise him?

There were sixteen ponies in total waiting for us at the inn's stables. One for each Dwarf, and a horse for Gandalf, as well as three ponies for carrying provisions and the like. The horse was beyond anything I could remember, large and intimidating, but the ponies felt familiar. They were adorable with their fluffy coats, shining eyes and smart manes and tails. Balin was soon stood with their previous owner, bartering over a final price after requesting an additional pony for me. When the Man realised he was dealing with Dwarves, he tried to raise the price of the ponies. No one rushed to Balin's aid, so I wagered he had experienced of this sort of behaviour before.

Bifur, either ignoring the conversation or not caring, was murmuring to a grey and black steed, rubbing its neck with one large hand. The axehead in his forehead did nothing to startle the animal, if anything it was cautious of the object. In such a way that I could have sworn the creature was taking care not to knock it and hurt Bifur. I approached a walnut coloured pony tethered beside the grey and black. Bifur smiled at me from beneath his thick black beard, encouraging me with a nod. Stopping in front of the pony, I raised a hand to copy Bifur's actions, stroking the side of the pony's neck.

Its hair was thick, corse and warm. The beast smelt of warm hay and something sweet. When it nodded its head up and down, I flinched away, terrified it would hurt me or I had hurt it. Bifur smiled at me and indicated for me to try again once the animal had ceased bobbing. When I did, the pony shifted sideways into my hand, and I felt a sort of comfort I had not experienced before. I lent into the creature's side, continuing to lavish attention on it, murmuring into its pricked ears when I grew comfortable enough about its beauty and my nerves for the coming trip. It would answer with a sigh, a flick of its tail or ears, and I felt heard. No one interrupted our conversation, but I could see several members of the company standing by watching me.

Khuzdul translations:

Bakn galikh: good morning

Part one of Bree! I was going to upload Bree as one chapter but it became far too long. At the rate I was carrying on, it was around 13,000 words and editing just became overwhelming. So, I've uploaded this part for all you lovely people, and I will now go and give the next chapter my attention. Can't wait for you to read it!

Note: Yes, I know that Bilbo won't have travelled far but for this story, he's been to Bree before.

Did you know that a group of ponies belonging to one person, or used by one person is called a string of ponies? I had no idea. Fascinating. Not that Rose would know this, but I was curious, looked it up, and wanted to share.

Thank you for reading! Take care of yourselves and each other!