Woo! This may be the longest chapter I have ever written. In fact, I'm a little behind on work so the next update is more than likely going to be two weeks away instead of next Friday. Sorry in advance.

Chapter 1- The Hobbit's Adventure

Bilbo Baggins was a well-adjusted, well-respected hobbit of the Shire much to the surprise of everyone in Hobbiton. After the tragic loss of his parents fourteen years prior, most were afraid he was going to go bounding off into the wild just like his mother. However, the young Master of Bag End seemed to show no inclination towards traveling whatsoever. A Baggins through and through, that Bilbo was. Or at least that was what was shown on the surface.

The truth was Bilbo missed his parents deeply. For all of Bungo's respectability, it only took Bilbo's pleading eyes to get him to pull him away from his study to play the giant game. It only took a small 'please' while they were walking through the market for Bungo to sneak him a before-dinner sweet. And on the subject of Belladonna Took...truly his mother's spirit lived on inside him. He missed her when reading his adventure books, he missed her when out in the garden, he missed her when making her famous oatmeal biscuit recipe. Still for all that his parents could never be replaced, Bilbo was never alone.

It surprised many that the three bachelor sons of The Old Took chose to take the tween in after having been orphaned, especially since none of them knew anything about faunt raising. However, it had been Isengrim to check in with Belladonna and Bilbo after Bungo passed in the Fell Winter. It had been Hildifons to take Bilbo out fishing or making trouble in Farmer Maggot's fields when Belladonna fell sick and had to undergo painful treatments. And Isengar, the only boy after the three sisters, well it was no secret that he was Belladonna's favorite brother. It just seemed right amongst the three having no family of their own, that they would become Bilbo's guardians when the white plague took her in the end. After all, the alternative was him falling to his Baggins relatives, and they would never allow such misfortune to fall upon Belladonna's only child.

So while many looked on the chaotic household with wary eyes and shaking heads, Bilbo wasn't quite sure how he would have survived without his dear uncles. Because certainly Bilbo learned how to gamble well before he learned to drink or smoke pipeweed, and entirely too young at that. One could even argue that the future Master of Bag End should've learned economics over the alchemic mixture necessary to produce explosives, and that Isengrim, the Crown Prince of the Shire, should've known better than to indulge his brother and nephew in such activities. That for all the Took they seemed to be thrusting upon the child, it was a miracle he was as much Baggins as he was.

Then again, no one knew of the wistful looks he had when gazing out his windows. No one knew that his heart leapt when news from the outside world tore through the wagging tongues of the local gossips. No one knew that his dreams at night were filled with a pair of familiar blue eyes he could not recall the owner of and a hall of gold too vast to ever truly be real. And Took or Baggins, they were not about to deter the lad of his imagination. So dream Bilbo did. Those blue eyes became a comfort, and Bilbo found himself building the owner up again and again in his head. Every day he awoke wishing to meet them, and every night he went to sleep slightly discouraged. Then they would return in his unconscious mind, and he would start the process over again.

This morning, however, was special. For today was Bilbo's thirty-third birthday. A milestone among the hobbits as it marked the age of adulthood. Bilbo was certain there would be a massive celebration at the Party Tree that night with his uncles spending most of the day organizing. So as a special gift, he planned to pick blackberries to make his near award-winning blackberry cobbler. He didn't bother with a vest or jacket as he grabbed his basket and headed off towards the best thickets. If that happened to take him out of Hobbiton and down to the small grove close to Bywater, well what was a small jaunt on his birthday going to hurt?

As the early sun warmed his face and heart, Bilbo became very pleased with his decision. So much so he started to hum an old fairytale song under his breath as he cut through the forest with the ease of a well-established routine. The blackberries were ripe and juicy, and Bilbo couldn't help sneaking in a sweet and tart first breakfast as he filled his basket. His thoughts drifted to what sort of trouble his uncles could get into before he was able to meander back, and he found his hands itching for his pipe that wasn't there. An unfortunate addiction courtesy of his Uncle Hildifons.

He was sure the party was going to be over the top and bothersome. If it wasn't for his hobbit sensibilities, he would just have them cancel the silly thing and be done with it. After all, today marked the end of his faunthood, and tomorrow would bring the responsibilities of being Master of the Baggins family and Prince of the Shire, albeit distantly. Many had wondered if Isengrim raising Bilbo would mean adoption thus raising his status to next in line for the Thainhood. However, as far as Bilbo was concerned, Isumbras and Fortinbras, his uncle and cousin respectively next in line after Isengrim, could have it. He had no desire to inherit the responsibility of the entire Shire. His responsibility for the entire Baggins family was already being questioned, no thanks to his cousin Otho of the Sackville-Baggins and his bride to be.

Left to his worries, Bilbo hadn't noticed that he took a more southern route to his initial trek until he caught sight of a fur-lined traveling cloak swung over one of the branches of the tree in his path. He froze letting silence wash over him. He listened closely for an owner, but aside from a few birds in the trees and rabbits in the bushes, he seemed to be alone.

Curious now, Bilbo crept forward to inspect the article of clothing only to find a traveler's pack, a blade resting in its scabbard against the trunk as well as an odd shield that seemed to be made from an oak's branch. Bilbo's stomach gave a soft flip. He had a small token sitting on his bedside table that was given to him at birth that his mother had affectionately dubbed "Oakenshield". Bilbo wasn't a hundred percent certain, but he always associated it with the blue eyes that haunt his dreams.

His eyes scanned the clearing even more determined to discover the location of its owner as his heart seemed to be racing in his chest. Even though he had no conscious memory of ever meeting this person, he was already captivated. He would never say love for how could you be in love with a figment of your imagination? Still, he felt himself wondering, not for the first time, what they must be like. Did they have a gentle smile to go along with their drowning eyes? Were they shy? How soft was their touch?

Before he could stop himself, Bilbo found himself tracing the soft fur of the cloak. He looked over at their pack curious if the contents inside might tell the story of this mysterious stranger. Though that might be too strong an invasion of privacy. Then again, if the flap just happened to come open to where he could catch a peek inside.

Bilbo toed his way closer unconsciously clutching the cloak to his figure as he gave a bag a small kick. He frowned when it held tight. Stupid dwarven-made buckles. Maybe he could shake it and hear something to give him a clue. While Bilbo fiddled with the pack, not bringing himself to breach scandal and actually open it, he found himself singing that fairytale rhyme from earlier.

"I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream…"

Deeply enthralled in his curiosity, Bilbo did not register the footsteps stomping through the brush from the direction of the stream. The dwarf who had stepped away only for a quick drink and wash was stunned by the sight of the small creature wrapped in his cloak messing with his bag. There was only one logical conclusion he could reach for why anyone would mess with another's: he means to steal from him.

"Thief!" He shouted.

He grabbed him by the shoulder spinning him around to allow his first real look at him. The hobbit, for that was all he could conclude him to be with the pointed ears and large feet, yelped as he tripped over the ends of the cloak in an effort to get away. The dwarf raised an eyebrow as he took in the dulled bronze curls and awestruck hazel eyes.

"What did you take?" He accused as he crossed his arms menacingly.

"N-Nothing!" The hobbit was quick to deny as he fought his way back to his feet and returned the cloak. "I'm not a thief."

The dwarf stared him down looking over to his pack that still remained unopened and the basket of berries the smaller being had swinging from his arm. He snorted deeming him harmless enough as he began to strap his sword and shield back to his person. When he turned his back to put on his cloak and gather his pack was when Bilbo felt like he could breathe again.

Trapped in the blue eyes of the dwarf, he could only admire how striking they were against his coal black hair that cascaded down his shoulders and framed his short cropped beard. His heart beat a mile a minute, and he could hardly believe what he was seeing. This dwarf had to be the person who appears night after night to him. And now...now he was walking away.

"Wait!" Bilbo called out as he hurried after him.

The dwarf stopped for a moment giving him an impatient stare.

"I'm truly sorry. I really was not trying to steal from you."

"Clearly." He snorted. "You are more grocer than burglar."

The young hobbit felt his cheeks heat up and frown worked its way onto his face. Still manners dictated that he had been in the wrong with his nosiness. He could forgive the dwarf of his gruff demeanor. Certainly, he wouldn't want to be pleasant with someone he felt had tried to steal from him.

"Yes, well…" His nose twitched. "I suppose I can see how you drew that conclusion.

The dwarf didn't respond as he kept walking forward. He was torn between wanting an interaction with the one person he has longed to meet and leaving him to his business. It was only a moment when the dwarf paused and began casting his eyes about the forest in a confused frustration.

"A-Are you lost?" Bilbo offered.

"I'm not lost!" The dwarf was quick to hiss.

A sore subject for his pride, surely. Bilbo gathered his basket up and forced an encouraging smile.

"Well, I was just headed back to Hobbiton. I wouldn't mind the company if you wanted to escort me back to the road?"

The dwarf furrowed his brows together in thought before nodding his assent. Bilbo's grin grew widely as he offered his hand.

"I'm Bilbo." He stated as he shook the dwarf's large palm.

"Thorin, son of...just Thorin."

His hesitation now made sense to Bilbo. He knew well of the dwarrows' distrust of outsiders, especially of the Fae. The Fall of Erebor was a story his mother had told him many times as a faunt.

"You have no reason to worry. I'm not a Faerie." Bilbo chuckled.

"I know well what you are, Halfling."

Bilbo's feet stopped moving as his heart became coated in ice. This dwarf was not kind, he was not gentle. He was rough, crass, and rude! All the expectations he put upon ever meeting the owner of those wonderful blue eyes fell at the disappointment of reality. Tears welled up, but he stubbornly refused to shed them.

"Well, are you coming?" Came Thorin's gruff voice as he moved further ahead of Bilbo.

"Now see here!" Bilbo demanded stomping his foot into the ground. "I have been nothing but polite to you, and yet you think you can order me about like some...mongrel!"

"You were rifling through my belongings." The dwarf shot back.

"And I apologized!" Bilbo snapped.

"Aye, you did." He nodded matter-of-factly.

Bilbo felt it was only the years of living with Isengar that kept him from shouting back like he desperately wanted to. Instead, he gripped his hair thinking up some very nasty insults himself. He did offer his company though, and he wouldn't dare turn back on his word. With a quick nod, he led the way again trying to put together the shattered pieces of his disillusion. Thorin gave a huff as if Bilbo were being the difficult one letting a tense silence fall between them.

"I suppose...you have a plan for those blackberries?"

"What?" Bilbo turned to him in confusion before looking down at the basket. "Oh yes, I'm going to make a cobbler." He answered distractedly.

"Ah. My sister and I have always wondered what is the difference between a cobbler and a pie? After all, they both are made with pastry dough and usually have some sort of fruit filling."

Bilbo shot him an incredulous look. "I suppose by that logic you could also consider tarts and turnovers the same."

"Yes! Exactly!"

There was something about his earnest expression that caused Bilbo to snort in laughter despite being very cross with his companion. He responded with a small smirk and a tilt of his head as if he were unsure if Bilbo was laughing at him or with him. The hobbit was still a little upset Thorin had yet to apologize himself, but he could see his pitiful attempts at small talk as the olive branch it was.

"So what brings you down from the mountains and into the Shire, Mister Thorin?" Bilbo asked after a moment.

"My business is my own." Thorin quipped.

Bilbo lost his spark again, something that was quickly beginning to tear into Thorin for reasons he did not understand.

"But…" He sighed. "I can tell you I'm looking for someone."

Bilbo perked up once more with a pure curiosity and desire to help twinkling behind his forest eyes.

"Oh! I will tell you I feel as though I'm related to half of Hobbiton, so I might be able to lead you further if you had a name."

"I don't have a name." Thorin denied. "I just need someone with a willing heart and an urge to travel."

"Hmm." Bilbo hummed in disappointment. "I doubt you'll find anyone west of Bree who has any desire for adventures."

Thorin sighed deeply. "Then it seems my errand was a fool's after all."

Bilbo felt regret hearing the sad resignation in this dwarf's voice. In spite of his course nature, he wished desperately that he could help out in some way. He certainly couldn't run off into the wilderness like a wayward faunt but, there was nothing stopping him from passing on the message to his Took cousins on the off chance they feel the itch for adventure. So lost in thought, Bilbo didn't even realize they had reached the road until Thorin spoke up.

"I suppose this is where we part."

Bilbo looked west towards Hobbiton before looking east towards Thorin and the world beyond.

"If I did come across such a hobbit, which direction should I point them?"

Thorin blinked in surprise. "My kin and I are staying at an inn nearby. The Green Dragon. But only until tomorrow morning."

Bilbo nodded, shaking Thorin's hand once more. "It was a pleasure meeting you Mister Thorin. I wish you luck in your travels."

The look of confusion melted into a guarded, small smile.

"You as well. Good luck on your pie, Mister Bilbo."

It was on the tip of his tongue to correct him but, Thorin had already turned to walk away. Bilbo released a long drawn out sigh. Well, so much for that. Just when he had made peace with his departure, Thorin began to sing. The beautiful lithe of his deep baritone, and the song he chose caused a shy smile to crawl across Bilbo's face as he hurried back home to his uncles. The lingering lyrics 'the way you did once upon a dream' following him all the way.

"It's just...did you have to choose red?"

"Hush!" Isengrim spoke around a mouth of pins. "Until I see you taking the time to learn to sew, you're just going to have to live with my styling choices."

Hildifons rolled his eyes. Isengrim acted as though he was a master tailor. After Lily Potts made the pattern and the base, Isengrim brought it back to add the cuffs, buttons, and trim. Hildifons was fairly certain he could do that, and it would be a lovely shade of royal blue that would match the lad's complexion much better than red. Instead he was stuck making all of the party favors to be passed out to guests later that night.

"By the way, you do realize that trim is usually used for ladies' petticoats, right?" Hildifons pointed out.

Isengrim paused as he looked at the coat and then back at the fabric in his hands. Hildifons could see the exact moment he figured it out as he swore under his breath and started ripping it off.

"Why didn't you tell me that earlier?!"

"I was holding out hope you would ruin it, and I could commission Lily for a new one in blue."

"She can't make a brand new coat in the course of a FEW HOURS!"

Hildifons hated to admit it, but he was stumped by that one. Before he could respond, there was a series of small crashes in the kitchen followed by a loud explosion that sounded like it came from the oven.

"It's okay! Don't worry about it." Isengar coughed.

Isengrim only shook his head while Hildifons snickered.

"It was your idea to leave him to the food." He reminded.

"That's because your biggest contribution was ale and mead." Isengrim shot back.

"Bilbo's an adult now! He deserves a drink."

"Thirty-three! I can hardly believe it. Where did the time go?" Isengar complained from the kitchen.

"Don't start, Garry! We're not going to start crying like a bunch of housewives with an empty nest!" Hildifons snapped already feeling the emotion crawl up his throat.

The other two chuckled as they returned to their tasks. So engrossed they didn't even notice their charge was returning until they heard his singing from outside the smial.

"The gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you'll do. You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream."

Bilbo shot through the doorway grabbing Hildifons and twirling him around with a dip at the finish.

"Well, you are certainly in a good mood today." He chuckled.

"Why wouldn't I be, Uncle Hilde? I'm an adult now." Bilbo announced proudly returning his uncle upright.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself Mister Baggins." Hildifons teased with a light shove.

"So where did you run off to?" Isengrim questioned trying to nonchalantly hide the jacket.

"Just out picking blackberries." Bilbo answered, immediately noticing his movements. "Is that for me?"

Isengrim sighed before holding it out for the lad.

Bilbo awed over the fabric, moving to try it on. "I've been needing a new receiving jacket, and this is very nice. The color is just lovely."

Isengrim shot Hildifons a smug smirk that caused his younger brother to cross his arms with a pout.

"It's not quite done, but I thought it would be perfect to wear to the party tonight." Isengrim stated as he fussed over the fit.

"The party…" Bilbo mused. "Oh! That's right. Um...maybe, I mean...do we have to have a party?"

The three older hobbits stopped dead in their movements as they just stared at Bilbo with their jaws dropped. Bilbo's hands went behind his back, and his nose twitched just like when he was younger and about to be scolded.

"Not have a party. What a peculiar thing to say." Isengrim recovered first.

"It's just...I thought maybe I would go…out instead." Bilbo tried to justify.

"There will be plenty of ale at the party if you're looking for a pint." Hildifons laughed.

Isengrim slapped him on the back of the head, and that was the kind of disrespect Hildifons couldn't take lying down. Bilbo resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he stepped around his uncles' petty slap war and approached Isengar. If he wanted something, his Uncle Garry was usually the easiest to manipulate.

"Now where could you possibly be looking to go?" Isengar asked, trying to salvage the cake he was making.

Bilbo gave him an affectionate grin as he picked pieces of dough out of his hair.

"Well...it's just...I sort of met...somebody."

"What?" Isengar cried in shock.

"WHAT?!" Hildifons and Isengrim echoed, stopping their fight long enough to listen in.

"N-Not like that...exactly. It's complicated." Bilbo tried to explain.

"What happened to the mystery blue eyes?" Isengar prompted, looking white as a sheet.

Hildifons and Isengrim resisted the urge to groan and make snoring noises like they usually did when the "blue eyes" were brought up.

Bilbo felt his cheeks color. "Well, the thing is...I think I met him. I mean, he was quite a bit ruder than I expected. A bit standoffish, a little prideful, but it has to be him!"

Isengrim furrowed his brows in disapproval. Hildifons cocked his head in a vexed manner with tightened fists the moment Bilbo said 'rude'. Isengar just gave him a pitying smile.

"Bilbo, there's lots of people in the world with blue eyes." Isengar gently prodded.

"Yes, I know that." The younger hobbit snapped. "He just...he knew the song."

"You mean the song from that fairytale you came in here belting?" Hildifons questioned dryly.

"No! I mean, yes. But...he has an oaken shield." Bilbo tried to defend himself, easily getting flustered.

His uncles shared an uncomfortable look. That was pretty damning evidence. Every hobbit knew enough to take coincidences for what they were: fate intervening. What made them even more uncomfortable was that it was entirely possible they forgot to mention that he was betrothed to a dwarven prince. Just didn't seem like the sort of thing to do and crush his little heart when they figured the "blue eyes" thing to be a phase anyways.

"I'm not going to tell him." Hildifons finally gave in holding his hands up in surrender.

"Tell me what?" Bilbo asked, taking a lemon tart from the counter.

He gave it a small sniff, and then slowly placed it back on the platter as casually as he could.

"Bilbo," Isengrim began. "You see...well the thing you have to know is…how should I put this?"

"Your mother signed a contract with a dwarven queen before you were born, and now you're engaged to a prince who you've actually met once even though you were too young to remember!" Isengar blurted before Isengrim got the chance.

"What?" Bilbo laughed, shaking his head incredulously. "What kind of a prank is that?"

"It's not a prank." Isengrim shook his head.

Bilbo snorted, still not willing to believe Isengar's words. Slowly, his grin started to waver the longer his uncles stood there grim-faced. His eyebrows furrowed, and his nose gave a little twitch. It became apparent the exact moment Bilbo accepted the truth. His jaw tightened, and his eyes met theirs in a searing look that was so Belladonna it hurt.

"That's not fair." He complained. "I will have a talk with Grandpap about this when I get to the Party Tree, you can mark my words."

"Bilbo. It's a contract." Hildifons pointed out gently.

All the fight left him in one fell swoop. The tears he fought early came out in full force as he gave his uncles the most betrayed look they had ever seen.

"It's not fair!" He cried. "I refuse to have my life dictated for me." He swore darkly before running out of the room.

They all winced at the slam of his bedroom door before reflecting on the melancholy this day turned out.

"You know in retrospect, we probably should have had that talk before the "where baby hobbits come from" one." Hildifons mused.

"What a helpful contribution to this terrible situation." Isengrim sniped.

"He's just a little worked up." Isengar sighed. "I'm sure he'll calm down soon. Do you think there's something wrong with the lemon tarts?"

Hildifons rolled his eyes but proceeded to pick one up and give it a sniff anyways.

"You mixed up sugar and salt again." He stated.

Isengar swore under his breath while Isengrim just shot them an incredulous look.

"How can you guys worry about lemon tarts right now?"

They both shrugged.

"So...we shouldn't keep preparing for the party?" Isengar asked hesitantly.

Isengrim paused. No, they definitely should still be working on the party. It was just hard to think about with Bilbo so upset, but maybe Garry was right. Maybe he just needed a little space. With that, the three went back to their tasks with much less enthusiasm. Isengrim took over in the kitchen, Isengar moved over to the party favors, and Hildifons was tasked with surveying the decorations down by the Party Tree. Bilbo did not emerge throughout the day leaving them to stare forlorn at his basket of berries.

Isengar left platters of food outside his door as he missed second breakfast, elevensies, and lunch. However, Bilbo refused to open up or even speak to them. Finally, as the sun began to sink low in the sky, they knew they could not afford to avoid this issue any longer. Isengrim knocked on his door before opening it up and forcing his way inside. Only there was no Bilbo to be found.

His room seemed to have been torn apart as if he had been looking for something in a hurry. His window was open, and his Oakenshield was gone leaving a letter behind in its place with Isengrim, Hildifons, and Insengar's names in Bilbo's striking handwriting. Isengrim felt his stomach drop as he called out to the other two. The note was short and to the point.

My dear uncles,

I see the path before me more visually than ever before. Seeing the blue eyed dwarf today was a sign indeed. I'm going off on an adventure. Please take care of Bag End for my return, and know that in regards to our spat in the kitchen, I don't blame you.

All my love,

Bilbo

"Where could he have gone?" Hildifons raged stomping out of the room.

"I don't know, but he can't have gotten too far." Isengrim took charge grabbing their jackets and heading for the front door. "I'll go south to Tuckborough, Hilde will go east to Buckland, and Garry will take Michel Delving in the west. Hopefully, nothing has tempted him north through the Bindbole Woods, and we will get him back before it gets too late."

"Shouldn't we enlist more help?" Isengar fidgeted.

"Good idea." Hildifons drawled sarcastically. "You go down to the Party Tree and let Pa know we lost Belladonna's son."

A shiver ran down Isengar's body despite their father being almost one hundred at this point. He needed no more encouragement at that point barely registering to lock up before tearing off into the night to bring their young ward back. A Baggins through and through indeed.

So interesting point: I wasn't actually going to have the "Three Good Fairies" from Sleeping Beauty since Gandalf kinda took care of that for me originally. However, when I found out that Bilbo had exactly three uncles that never married, I had to incorporate them. I'd love to hear who is your favorite so far. Also brownie points to anyone who can figure out what Belladonna was sick with. Thanks to everyone who has been following along, and please feel free to follow/favorite/reivew if you don't already.

-Sunny