Sadly I do not own the wonderful world of Middle Earth and currently rely on my parents to buy me chocolate and chick fil a to go along with my books

Chapter One: Meddlesome Old Wizards

"Common"

"Sindarin"

"Khuzdul"

"Black Speech"

Everyone in the Shire lived perfectly respectable lives, thank you very much. Everyone, that is, except Bilbo Baggins-Took. What was so different about Young Bilbo? Well the gentle-folk of the shire had made a list:

He only ate three meals a day!

He lacked a respectable belly

He fought with weapons other than conkers

He wore his hair long and allowed the fauntlings to weave braids into it

He was uncannily smart and always had a comeback ready if he thought you crossed the line at any given time

He refused to wear respectable hobbit clothes, instead choosing to make his own elven-like tunic

Despite all of that, the fauntlings adored him and all the lasses wanted nothing more than for him to choose one of them to marry

Perhaps the 50 year old Bilbo wasn't so bad. Besides the occasional trip into the forest, he never really went on any adventures like he used to, so maybe he was finally going to settle down. The shire folk should've known better than to try and predict the actions of a half Took half Baggins.

Sitting on the bench in his front yard and smoking his father's old pipe was one of Bilbo's favorite pastimes, next to playing with the children of the Shire and practicing his fighting. He was rather proud that he could make the most impressive smoke images, but then again he did have an unfair advantage. The wind would do whatever he asked it to, for the wind was his friend, a constant friend, who worried more than Primula Brandybuck. While he could control the wind indefinitely, he found that the wind loved helping him, so instead of ordering it to do something, he would ask it instead. Most of the time, the wind knew exactly what he needed before he even knew he needed it. Bilbo trusted the wind to protect him no matter what.

When the old wizard came up to Bilbo's front gate, he was most impressed with the smoke dragon that was flying around the hobbit's head. He was so transfixed that he missed the glare that was sent his way and only began to speak when the dragon exploded leaving behind a puff of smoke.

"Hello," the wizard began. "I am Gan-"

"Yes, Yes I know who you are, Gandalf. You are about 21 years too late if you wished to speak to my mother, so why are you here?" Taken aback by the hobbit's hostile tone, Gandalf stumbled over his words a bit.

"W-well, I am looking for someone to share an adventure with." He was not prepared to get a facefull of angry hobbit, but he most certainly did not let out a rather girlish squeak.

"You come to my house years late and all you say is that? Well, no thank you! I am not in the mood to entertain 13 dwarrows and a meddlesome old wizard tonight so you may be on your way." The wizard took a step back, startled.

"My dear Bilbo, how did you know about the dwarves?"

"If your adventure is so top secret than you should learn not to mumble to yourself around hobbits. Did you think that these ears were just for show? Now, go and tell your band of mountain men that I have no interest in going on an adventure, nor being any type of thief, and that is that. Now goodmorning!"

"To think I would live to be goodmorning'd by Belladonna Took's son!" Bilbo froze and Gandalf knew that he said something that he shouldn't have.

"Do not speak of her like you have the right to call her a friend. You are the reason she is dead. You said that you would gladly escort us to my grandfather's house that winter, yet you never showed up so we had to try and make the journey ourselves. So don't give me that 'I'm the all superior wizard listen to me' act you did when I was a fauntling." The wizard seemed to have shrunk in on himself during the hobbit's rant, knowing that he was right, and so was surprised by the next words that followed a sigh from the younger man.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have exploded on you like that. Ma always spoke highly of you so you deserve the benefit of the doubt. You have two minutes to explain your adventure, who all you told to come to my house without my permission, and what you told them to expect." Gandalf stared after the hobbit before coming back into his senses and started to explain the Company of Thorin Oakenshield and his quest to reclaim Erebor and that he had told 13 dwarves that there would be food. Bilbo nodded.

"And where do I fit into this?" The wizard looked down, seeming to be nervous.

"Uh, well I can't tell you yet. Not until everyone else is here." Sighing, Bilbo nodded.

"Well I guess I better go and start cooking. You may leave now, Gandalf." Once the wizard was sure that the hobbit was in his home, he walked up to the door and scratched a sign into the wood. Nodding to himself, Gandalf strolled back down the lane, thinking that this was to be a very interesting night indeed.

Bilbo sighed. Today was the day he was supposed to go to Rivendell. Looks like that wouldn't be happening. Now he had to entertain a dozen dwarrow for who knows how long. This was going to be a long- no wait. No one said that he couldn't mess with his guests. A mischievous smile broke out on Bilbo's face.

But he would need help making dinner. Perhaps Hamfast would lend a hand.

9 hours later the sun was beginning to set and Bilbo and Hamfast finally finished making dinner. Neither knew how much a dwarf ate so they decided to go a little overboard. Beef, chicken, pork and fowl were all cooked and set on the table, along with several kegs of the shires best ale. The kitchen was overflowing with desserts, pastries, cookies, cakes, even an apple cobbler. Bilbo tried giving his friend payment for his help but he was waved off, Hamfast saying that he was glad to help. Bilbo did convince him to take a few cakes home, though. As Bilbo was seeing the gardener out, a fauntling named Rosie ran up. She was a sweet little girl, with red hair and flushed cheeks from her run.

"Bilbo, Bilbo, there are dwarves in the market!" Her eyes were shining as she looked up at the man she considered a brother. "Can me and the others take him down like you showed us?" Bilbo covered up his laughs with coughs and bent down so he was the little girl's height.

"No, Rosie. I'm afraid that they are to be my guests." Bilbo saw her face fall and quickly continued on. "But if they start causing trouble, you won't be held responsible for whatever you do okay?" At her eager nod, he smiled. "Do me a favor though. If you think that any of them seem to be lost, would you and the others show them to my house?" Without waiting for an answer, Bilbo grabbed her sides and tickled her, making her squeal and try to get down. He settled her on his hip. "Can you do that?" She nodded and jumped down from his arms. "Then you better run back to the market, lest you miss them." Rosie took off and was over the hill by the time the older hobbit blinked.

Chuckling to himself, Bilbo turned back to his house and swung himself up onto the hill his home was under. Pulling a piece of wood and one of his knives out of his many hidden pockets, he started carving into the soft timber, keeping his eyes on the road. Until the dwarrows arrived, there was nothing to do but wait and watch.

Dwalin had no idea hobbits could be so viscous. All he had done was approach a young woman's stall to ask directions to whose ever house he was supposed to be going to when suddenly he felt several small bodies jump on him from behind, disarming him in seconds. He stood there gobsmacked. He hadn't had his weapons so easily taken since he was a teen and even then it had been against a competitor more than twice his age. Looking at his attackers, he was quite ashamed of himself for being snuck up on by children no less. And yet he couldn't help but admire how seamlessly they had worked as a team, the younger ones relieving him of his weapons before handing them to the noticeably older hobbits. They had even gotten his secret dagger for Mahal's sake.

"What business do you have in the shire?" An older boy said, managing to make Dwalin feel intimidated, which he hadn't thought possible - the lad was only 3 feet tall!

"I -" he was cut off when a little girl barreled into the group.

"Marco, Bilbo said that we can't practice on them. That they are his guests and if they look lost to point them to Bag End." The children all frowned, clearly disappointed.

"Thank you Rosie." The hobbit, Marco, turned back to Dwalin with a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry 'bout that, Master Dwarf. Bilbo said you could never be too careful. Guys, we have to give him back his weapons." With a sigh, the younger ones took the weapons back and before Dwalin could blink, he had them back exactly where they'd been before the midget ambush. The dwarf was vaguely aware of his mouth falling open and snapped it shut.

"Yes, well uh thank you? Would you mind showing me to this uh Bilbo's house?" He noticed how the younger ones glanced up at Marco before two of them grabbed his hands and began pulling him down the lane.

"You'll like my brother. Well he's not really my brother, he's kind of like everyone's brother because that's what he acts like. He was the one who taught us how to disarm you." The lass, Rosie kept babbling away about her big brother but Dwalin was just a little apprehensive. Just what was the wizard getting them into to?

The sound of two laughing children brought his back to the present and he realized that they were standing just outside a rather magnificent house, although Dwalin wasn't sure what was so funny. He pried his hands away from the two children and gently pushed them back down the road. They ran off giggling making the dwarf shake his head. Hobbits were weird creatures.

Dwalin cautiously turned back to the house and opened the gate. Instead of going to the door where he could see the faintly glowing khuzdul word meaning burglar for hire, he walked to the window and peered through the crystal clear glass. The house seem empty, but that didn't make sense because there was food piled high on the table, making his mouth water just by looking at it.

"What are you doing?" A voice from above him caused him to swing his axe in a wide arch. "Woah woah woah, careful, you could hurt somebody with that thing. Up here." Dwalin took a step back and looked above the door. Sitting on the grass was a, if he was honest with himself, very handsome hobbit, or at least what he thinks is a hobbit, for the only thing he has in common with the people he saw in the town were the hairy feet and slightly pointed ears. "I'm surprised you didn't notice me before; I was making faces at you, that's what made Rosie and Margot laugh so much." Still a little lost the dwarf nodded.

"Dwalin at your service." He bowed his head, catching sight of the hobbit tucking a knife into his belt. He didn't miss the sword strapped to his hip either. "You any good with those weapons?" Dwalin jumped a little when the man swung down from the roof and gracefully landed on his feet.

"Bilbo Baggins-Took at yours and your family's." Bilbo smirked boyishly at the dwarf. "And yes, I can use my weapons. In fact, I dare say that I might have more weapons than even you." At Dwalin's skeptical look he nodded towards the door. "I'll show you if you like." He grabbed the handle of the door. "But first, I want you to tell me what this sign means." Bilbo pointed to the faintly glowing carving on the green door.

"Don't you know what it means, laddie?" Bilbo snorted.

"I'm not one to waste time. Fool around? Definitely. But you see, I sort of have a flair for languages and that is not in anyone that I know."

"Well, of course you wouldn't know it. Not many do. It's khuzdul, the dwarven language. Very secret. It roughly means burglar for hire, lots of adventure, any pay."

"Meddlesome old wizard." Bilbo pushed open the door and gestured for Dwalin to follow him. "He turned up on my doorstep this morning looking for someone to go on an adventure with, mind you this is the first I've heard of this, and suddenly says that 13 dwarrow are coming for dinner. He's lucky hobbits can cook so fast or he would have had a hoard of hungry men on his hands." The dwarf looked up at the hobbit.

"You only heard of this this morning? The wizard said that you had been informed weeks ago." Bilbo sighed.

"What did I say? Meddlesome old wizard." Stopping in front of a door, the hobbit looked over his shoulder at his guest. "Now, try not to faint." He pushed the door open and Dwalin sucked in a breath. It was gorgeous. Hundreds of weapons hung on racks and on the walls, ranging from swords to axes to bows. And the hobbit could use them all? Dwalin was not jealous at all.

"Well, while you are admiring my weaponry, I shall go and answer the door. The next arrival has been standing on my front porch for several minutes, and my father always said it is rude to keep a guest waiting. Feel free to hold anything." He walked to the door. "Oh and Master Dwalin." The dwarf turned just in time to catch the scabbard thrown at him. "Hang that up will you?"

Dwalin blinked owlishly at the sword before looking back up only to discover that Bilbo was gone. Shaking his head, Dwalin wondered if Thorin knew just who he was inviting on their quest.

Opening the door, Bilbo found himself staring into the eyes of a grandfatherly looking dwarf with white hair and beard. Balin looked at the lad in front of him and was sure that he had gotten the wrong door for this man looked nothing like the hobbits in the town. Alas, he was wrong.

"Bilbo Baggins-Took at yours and your family's." The dwarf was startled from his thoughts as the hobbit tilted his head in acknowledgment. "Based on the fact that you look relatively calm and unfrazzled, I'm guessing that the fauntlings listened to me. Good." Bewildered, the dwarf cleared his throat.

"Yes, well, Balin at your service. And um, what do you mean that it's good that the lads and lasses listened to you? They were perfectly polite, even pointed me in the right direction." Bilbo grinned.

"Exactly." He offered his hand and took Balin's coat, hanging it up to the dark green one already drying on the wall. "Say, you wouldn't happen to be related to Master Dwalin would you?" At Balin's reply of brothers, Bilbo nodded. "I thought so. I will show you to him, and he can explain the mystery of the fauntlings to you. This way now!" He started off down the hall leaving a flustered Balin to follow at a more sedate pace. When they reached the room that his brother was in, the dwarf let out a low whistle. If nothing else, the hobbit had an impressive array of weapons. He didn't blame Dwalin for just brushing his hands along each wall of weapons. The detail was incredible on each weapon.

"Master Dwalin," he spun around. "Would you be so kind as to hand me that bow from behind you? No, the wooden one with the carvings. Thank you." Bilbo clapped his hands together. "Now, while you explain to your dear brother your experience in the market, I have to go and answer the door." As if on cue, a solid knock sounded throughout the house. Bilbo swung his bow onto his shoulder and was gone before either dwarf could say a word. Balin turned to his younger brother.

"Are all hobbits like this?" Dwalin laughed.

"Our Burglar and his 'siblings' are, at least." Mahal help them all.

Kili and Fili had been dragged through the town by two little children that thought that their beards were hilarious. Eventually they stopped in front of a green door. The two kids motioned for them to knock and no sooner had they done so, the door opened.

"BILBO!" Fili had to restrain himself from covering his ears as the two toddlers launched themselves at the man in the doorway. He caught them with ease, swinging them onto his sides, one on each hip.

"How are my two favorite Sackvilles today?" They giggled.

"Good, we met dwarves!" one said, pointing to Fili and Kili.

"We brought them to you just like Marco told us to!" Bilbo raised his eyebrows.

"Really? All by yourselves?" The two nodded excitedly. "My, I think that you deserve a treat!" Sitting them down, Bilbo reached into his pocket and pulled out two biscuits. Lowering himself onto one knee, the older hobbit pulled the two fauntlings close, gently bumping heads with them before putting the sweets in their hands and sending them down the lane laughing. Both Kili and Fili were shocked by how dwarvish that gesture had been, but managed to come to their senses soon enough.

"Fili," the slightly taller blonde dwarf said. "And Kili," the dark haired dwarf that was Bilbo's height added. "At your service!" They finished together. The hobbit smiled.

"Bilbo Baggins-Took, at yours and your family's." Kili eyed the bow around his shoulders.

"You shoot. Any good?" Bilbo laughed.

"I like to think so. I see you do, too. Maybe we can give each other pointers later." Kili grinned.

"That would be great!"

"Those kids," Fili started. "They your kin?"

"Sort of." Bilbo motioned them in, leaving it at that. Pointing down the hall where the two princes could hear voices wafting down to the front door, he started talking. "Would you two please go and get Masters Dwalin and Balin and bring them into the dining room? I expect the others to be arriving soon." Pushing the gently down the hall the hobbit smiled. "In fact, our next guests should be arriving right about…. now." Both dwarves started but walked down the hall to find their companions. They were met with the sight of a slightly shell-shocked Balin staring disbelievingly at a frantically nodding Dwalin.

"Boys," Balin said. "Does your uncle know exactly what he's getting us into by asking this hobbit to join us on our journey?" The princes didn't reply.

20 minutes later, 12 dwarves and 1 wizard listened to a hobbit that slightly scared the older dwarrow but who the younger ones thought was awesome, explain that before he joins their adventure, he wants to know what exactly he is getting himself into. Before Balin could produce his contract, two loud, solid knocks rang through the house. As if one, the dwarves and wizard turned to look at the door.

"He's here." Gandalf stated. Bilbo snorted.

"Well, aren't you all a dramatic bunch." Walking to the door, he swung it open, paying no attention to the flabbergasted dwarves that were staring at him.

Thorin Oakenshield hated getting lost. Not only did he manage to stray off of the path, not once but twice, it had started pouring half an hour before, leaving him soaked through and chilled to the bone. He finally reached his destination, only for the door to be answered by someone he was certain couldn't be their burglar for this creature standing in front of him was the most handsome man he had ever seen. He was tall by dwarven standards, roughly Kili's height. He had curly golden brown hair with braids weaved into it that was tied back at the nape of his neck. The most beautiful glowing emerald eyes that danced with humor and mischief. His face was chiseled yet kind and he had his hands placed one his hips in the most adorable way. Thorin, being Thorin, said the first thing that came to his mind, which was both stupid and untrue.

"You look more like a grocer than a burglar."

"And you are rather rude for a king." They both ignored the snort of laughter from the other room. "Didn't anyone try and teach you politics, or at the very least manners?" A little taken aback, Thorin bowed his head.

"Thorin Oakenshield, King of Durin's folk."

"Bilbo Baggins-Took, master of Bag-End." He gave an over exaggerated bow, making the king's cheeks color slightly in anger.

"Yes, well. Axe or sword? What is your weapon of choice?" Bilbo smirked.
"I have some skill at conkers, if you must know. Though I hardly see how that is relevant." Thorin felt his heart sink. The entirety of their quest relied on this, admittedly handsome, useless hobbit? They were doomed.

The dwarf king pushed past the hobbit and into the dining room where his Company were all staring at their host with wide eyes. Unperturbed, Thorin took the seat at the head of the table, ignoring Balin's frantically shaking head.

"We will receive no aid from any of the seven kingdoms, not even my own kin. Dain says that this is our quest and ours alone." The dwarves mumbled in disappointment.

"This journey would be difficult with an army's help. We are but 13 men." Balin said thoughtfully, expression downcast.

"We can do it. While we lack in numbers, we make up for in courage, strength and bravery to do what no other dwarrow would ever think of doing and reclaim our home." Thorin pulled out a map before handing it to the wizard. Gandalf began reading.

"Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak."

"The Lonely Mountain." Ori whispered.

"Aye. Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time." Oin nodded.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold: When the birds of old return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end." Bofur sighed.

"A reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals. A dragon." Ori puffed out his chest.

"I'm not afraid! I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of the Dwarvish iron right up his jacksy."

"Sit down, brother!"

"You all are fools." All eyes turned to the hobbit who was leaning against the door frame, fiddling with a knife. "You can't just charge into a dragon's den. What if that beast is still alive, how are you going to kill it? A dragon would never willingly give up it's hoard. You either go in with a plan or die." Thorin frowned, barely keeping his anger in check.

"And what do you know of the world? You can't even use weapons!" Faster than he could blink, a knife was embedded in the wall right above his ear, knicking it just enough to make it bleed. Thorin looked up at Bilbo in shock, and forced himself not to back up at the angry glare from the now attentive hobbit.

"I never said that I was unskilled in weaponry, only that I was good at conkers. Ask Master Dwalin if you don't believe me. You don't know me Thorin Oakenshield, and right now I have no desire to know you. Do not think that I know not of the dangers in the world." Standing up, Thorin snarled, ignoring the voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Balin that was telling him to just sit down and shut up.

"It's true though, isn't it? You live a sheltered life here in your comfy hobbit hole. You do not know what it is like to watch your people die, hear their pained screams and being unable to do anything." Out of the corner of his eye, Thorin saw Gandalf glare at him before letting his head fall into his hands. The king was unprepared for what happened next.

"You know nothing." Bilbo's voice was like the calm before a storm. He started pulling off his tunic. "I know what it's like to watch my people die. To hear their screams for help and being unable to do anything. I know what it's like to watch your family die." Thorin had to hold in a gasp when he saw the hobbit's naked torso. He was well muscled and had strange tattoos on his arms, but that was not what made him stumble back. Starting just under his chest and ending at his hip was a long thick scar caused by a blade that he knew far too well. Orc blades. Several smaller scars littered his body but that one was the worst, and could've been fatal if not treated correctly. The hobbit was lucky he regained full use of his body after an injury like that. Thorin was aware of being pulled down to his chair but not knowing who had done it. He could only watch as Bilbo pulled his shirt back on, his muscles tightening.

Bilbo sighed. He hadn't wanted to show them, their was just something about Thorin Oakenshield that ticked him off. Turning away from him and looking at the other dwarves, the hobbit clasped his hands behind his back, hoping no one had noticed their slight trembling. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Dinner is in the kitchen, please help yourselves. If you don't mind I must be excused." Without waiting on an answer Bilbo practically ran from the room, closing the door behind him. Once in the hall, he braced his head against the wall, he breathed in deeply, trying not to cry as memories overwhelmed him.

"Run, Bilbo go, NOW!"

"Keep the children safe we'll be right behind you…"

"Ma, NOOOO!"

Shuddering, Bilbo turned and flew up the stairs, returning seconds later with a wooden case. He needed somewhere he could think. And play.

The dwarves sat frozen when the hobbit had ran from the room. Fili had drawn Kili closer to him, as had Dori to Ori. They stayed like that for several minutes until they heard the front door slam and suddenly Gandalf and Balin both whirled around to glare at Thorin.

"The one time someone other than kin treats us like equals, you have to go and bring up bad memories. I could have sworn I taught you manners at least!" Thorin ducked his head.

"I'm sorry, Balin. How was I to know that that little thing had memories that bad? I will apologize to him when he returns." The Wizard shook his head.

"He won't return until dawn, at least. You are very lucky that Bilbo is a good, kind lad, Thorin Oakenshield, for if he had desired he could have killed us all, including me, before any of us could even move." The King looked back at the wall, where the knife was hanging stuck into the hard stone. Thorin believed the old man. Fili and Kili shared a look, before they both nodded.

"We shall go and find him!" Gandalf snorted.

"While I'm sure that he would appreciate the thought, hobbit's can remain unseen by most if they wished, and I swear that Bilbo is the sneakiest of them all. I thank the elves. He always was light on his feet, but when he returned, he was truly terrifying. I'm still convinced that he can turn invisible, yet neither him nor his mother would ever tell me; of all of Bilbo's secrets I know, I am not allowed into that one. It's maddening, and they knew that so they turned it into a game. Anyway, that's why he would be the perfect burglar, for he is quick and has a sharp mind that I would bet on against Smaug himself." Elves, invisibility, terrifying? Maybe he had judged their hobbit too quickly. Despite Gandalf's words, his boys just smiled brighter.

"Ah, but he likes us. He told us that we remind him of the children of Hobbiton, and that he's never managed to completely hide from them after he taught them where to look. Since the rain has let up, we are leaving. Nobody better follow us or Kili might shoot you thinking that you are an orc. Go and eat, I would hate our host's perfectly prepared dinner to go to waste - just make sure to save some for us three." And with that the youngest of the Durins swept out of the room, only stopping to slip on their cloaks, letting the front door slam behind them. The others left the room and into the kitchen, whooping in delight at the amount of food, until only Gandalf Balin and Thorin remained in the dining room.

"I really messed up, didn't I Balin?"

"That you did. I'd be surprised if Master Bilbo will come with us at all." Gandalf chuckled.

"Oh, he will come. Even if he couldn't stand any of us, he would come, because he is an honorable hobbit, and his mother told him never to turn down an adventure." A thought came into the King's head.

"Gandalf, what did you mean about the burglar staying with elves?"

"Oh no Thorin. You will not be getting any of Bilbo's secrets out of me. He has recently been mad at me and I am not in the mood to repeat that event any time soon." The wizard shook his head. "Worse than his mother, he is." Standing up, Gandalf turned to the kitchen before swinging back around and handing something to Thorin. A key.

"Where did you get this?"

"Your father gave it to me when I last spoke to him. Told me to give it to you and that it belongs to the mountain. Since there is a key, there means that there is a door that goes with it." Thorin sucked in a breath

"There's another way in." Gandalf sniffed.

"Yes, indeed. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get a drink before your kin finds it. There is no better beverage than hobbit ale." The wizard sighed happily before sweeping out of the room.

"Thorin, do you think that Fili and Kili will find him?"
"For our sakes, Balin, I hope they do."