"Ered Luin!" Bilbo gasped, startling poor Myrtle. Had she been a lesser trained pony, she would have surely thrown Bilbo to the ground. But Myrtle was the greatest pony that Bilbo had ever had the pleasure of dealing with and she merely whinnied for a moment before settling once more. The same could not be said for the poor dwarf (not one that Bilbo was well acquainted with, but he remembered him to be a kind fellow) who walked beside her. He shouted so hard that he fell over, causing the entirety of their company (or at least all those who held weapons) to turn to arms.

Bilbo ducked his head sheepishly. After all that time without anyone seeing him but his soul mate it was strange to once more have all eyes on him (he was, after all, one of those gentle hobbits who preferred their silence and seclusion on most nights).

"Bilbo!" Frerin said, quickly coming to his side. "You're awake!"

"Ered Luin," Bilbo said. As rude as it was to not greet his friend after so long (how long had it been anyway), he couldn't risk forgetting the message that he had been sent with. "The dwarves are in Ered Luin."

"Ered Luin?" Frerin asked.

"Yes," Bilbo said. "Have you not heard of it? I was told you would probably be heading that way even without my interference. Unless of course, that wasn't your plan and you were heading somewhere else entirely?"

"No," Frerin said, "I had planned to go to Ered Luin. I'm just surprised to hear someone other than our own people call it that. You would know it by the name of the Blue Mountains."

"I knew I recognized that range!" Bilbo said tapping his fist against his open palm in realization. "I was sure that I knew it by another name, but I was having such a hard time thinking about it. Oh, you wouldn't believe what all I had forgotten while I was there. If it hadn't been for Thorin's help, I think I would have forgotten my own name! That would have been dreadful indeed. Although no worse than-" For once, Bilbo stopped his own rant with a bite of his tongue. He was just about to spill that he had forgotten Frerin and Vili's names. There was really no need to insult his friend like that (or otherwise reveal such an embarrassing tidbit).

"Did you say Thorin?" Frerin asked, his eyes wide and his mouth even wider.

"Oh yes," Bilbo nodded eagerly. He opened his mouth to tell Frerin all about his conversation with his soulmate and then a sudden realization came upon him. He couldn't talk about their conversation without giving away his hobbitish secret! Of course he had already mentioned it, but a hobbit cannot be faulted for such a slip of the tongue (at least as long as he didn't realize that he had made it).

"I didn't know my brother knew any hobbits," Frerin said, "but I'm glad to know that he is alive." It looked as though something made him slightly suspicious, but he was at least kind enough not to press. "And to know that I was taking us in the right direction. You're right. I've been heading that way for several weeks now."

"Several weeks?!" Bilbo gasped. "I had no idea it had been that long! It felt like no more than a few days to me."

"I can assure you," Frerin said, "it's been much longer than that. In fact, Oin has been worrying himself sick that you might never wake up. You gave us quite a scare that night when you left without telling us." Frerin raised a brow and there was a bit of a smile forming on his face, but the playful look did not completely mask his worry. Bilbo would surely have to make this up to him later. Somehow.

As if summoned by the very mention of him, Oin appeared beside Frerin, picked Bilbo right off Myrtle's back without so much as a word of warning, and sat him on the ground like a child who was too tired to stand on his own. Frerin turned to suppress a smirk, but Bilbo was not so fooled. He immediately began poking and prodding and being a general nuisance (at least in Bilbo's opinion, though in truth he was doing everything he could to make sure Bilbo was healthy) without even so much as a word of "hello" or "how do you do?"

"Well," Bilbo said after a moment of complaint towards Oin that went entirely unheard. "I certainly didn't mean to leave like that. It was a shock of my own, but I said that I would find the dwarves and there's no use dilly dallying when there's work to be done. At least that's what my father used to say."

"And we're glad that you did," Frerin said. "You've brought us valuable information."

For some reason Bilbo had the distinct feeling that Frerin was talking to him like he was validating a child, but he decided it wasn't all that important in loo of another more pressing matter. "Is there anything to eat?" he asked, trying once more to escape Oin's clutches (how in the world was the old dwarf so quick?).

Frerin laughed, the tension suddenly lifting somewhat from his shoulders. "Yes Master Bilbo, I think Vorin is cooking something for us now."

"Vorin can cook?" Bilbo asked, though he regretted it immediately. It was the height of disrespect to a hobbit to question their cooking ability. Even the little ones could at least make soup!

"Well enough," said Vorin, plunking a bowl of soup right down next to the hobbit.

Bilbo startled, grabbing his chest. He hadn't even realized that the dwarf was there! He sputtered and tried to get out an apology, but Vorin had already moved on to talking to Frerin while Oin told Bilbo to come his heart (how many times was he going to say that?).

"What is our plans?" asked Vorin.

"We'll have to stop in Bree to restock, but I think we can make it around the Shire in a week or two."

"Around the Shire?!" Bilbo gasped. He shouldn't have been listening into their conversation, but who could blame him for listening in when his own conversation was quite dull (there's only so many times you can tell a dwarf that you don't have a bad heart). "Why one this green Earth would you want to go around the Shire? It's much quicker to go through it."

"We can't go through the Shire!" someone gasped nearby. "It's full of Spirits!"

"Well sure, we have plenty of alcohol," Bilbo said, not quite understanding what that had to do with anything, "but we'd gladly share."

"Not that kind of spirit," Frerin said with a shake of his head. "You probably haven't heard the tales, but there have been the rare dwarves who are visited by spirits that call themselves hobbits. We would never dare trespass on their sacred land." There was mumbles of agreement (as well as some rather strange additions) all throughout the nearby crowd. Was there no dwarf who knew what a hobbit really was. Surely they didn't think a whole race was just a figment of their imaginations. Did they?

"Oh not that again," Bilbo said. "As you can see I'm very much not a Spirit and I very much am a hobbit and I say there's nothing sacred about the Shire…Well, I mean, there are sacred things in the Shire, like the party tree maybe, but nothing that we wouldn't be willing to share. In fact, I should very much like to show it to you all. I think you would very much like the parties we hold in the Shire too! Oh there will be so much drinking! It makes me miss the Green Dragon, though I've only been there a couple of times. Too young you see. Yes. I think I would very much like to have a party at the party tree while we pass through."

"But Bilbo," Frerin tried to protest.

"No!" Bilbo said. "I want to go home and I'm taking you lot with me, or I'm not going anywhere at all." He crossed his arms and he legs about him, which had the added benefit of being in Oin's way (thank Yavanna) so he could do no more checkups.

"Home" seemed to be the magic word because as soon as he said it all the dwarves were hastily packing up what little was out and Bilbo was practically thrown (though with much care) back atop Myrtle as the dwarves very determinedly headed straight for the Shire. "You'll want to head towards Hobbiton," Bilbo said, smirking as he realized he was getting exactly what he wanted. "That's where my home is."