Here's the second chapter! Hope you all like it. Thanks for all the reviews! I'll try to keep this updated as much as possible. I know there aren't a lot of Bilbo/OC fics out there, so I will try my best to make this one worth while!
I do not own any places or original characters of Middle-earth. Credit goes to the wonderful J.R.R. Tolkein.
Oh God. My head. It hurt. It really hurt. But...where was I? I could tell I wasn't lying on grass anymore. No, this was something much softer. A couch, maybe? Or a bed. I tried to open my eyes to see where I was, but as I did, a shooting pain pierced my eyes and forehead as an intensely bright light was the only thing I could see. I quickly shut my eyes again, and waited to fall back asleep, hoping to not be in so much pain when I would wake again.
I became conscious again sometime later, and things seemed to be more in focus and normal than before. I dared to open my eyes once more, and was relieved to see perfectly fine and even more relieved to be pain free. I noticed I was now indoors. How else could you explain a dark ceiling lingering above you?
I looked around, and saw that I was lying on a sofa or couch of some kind, right in front of a blazing fireplace. The room I was in looked like a den or living room from one of those really cozy old fashioned cabins. The fireplace was all stone, and everything surrounding it either looked like stone as well, or wood. The floor was stone tile, with a rug covering the center of the room, and the ceiling was oddly rounded. Apart from the fire, I could smell fresh flowers, baked bread, and roast beef. Clearly, someone must have picked me up after I passed out and brought me here to look after me. Surely it wasn't one of those guys that was about to burn me at the stake.
I tried to sit up, only to find about half a dozen blankets piled on top of me. That's when I also noticed how hot I actually was. I struggled to shove the several layers of blankets off me, and sat up. I was still in my hobbit clothes, and I saw my knapsack/purse lying just a few feet away from me. I decided to get up and search it, just to see if all the stuff I had in my purse was still in this bag.
I opened the top flap and felt inside, but was immediately disappointed to find none of my usual things. Instead, I found a few blank pieces of thick paper, almost like parchment, some feather pens (I remember them being called quills in Harry Potter), and a few interesting looking rocks and eating utensils. Well, great.
As I was putting everything back in the bag, I heard footsteps shuffling towards me from a different room, and I quickly shot up to full height (well, as far as hobbit height goes), instinctively on alert. I didn't want a repeat of what happened earlier.
Around the corner came a guy hobbit (I honestly have no idea what to call male hobbits), carrying a tray with tea cups and small cakes. He stopped short when he saw me standing.
"Oh, you're already up," he said, and hesitated. He appeared to be deciding whether or not to come any nearer to me for a moment; he almost looked frightened. I was astonished to see that he looked exactly like the portrayal of Bilbo in The Hobbit. After what felt like an eternity, he seemed to have come to his senses, and smiled as he walked past me to put the tray on an end table. He then stuck his hand out to me. "I'm Bilbo Baggins, at your service."
Ah. So this was Bilbo. Makes sense. Considering this, I couldn't help but think this was all some vivid dream. It was probably the most realistic dream I had ever had, though, I'll admit that.
I noticed his hand was still extended, waiting for me to shake it. He almost looked embarrassed for leaving it out that long, so before he had a chance to withdraw it, I hastily stuck mine out and shook it. I didn't want to seem like a rude guest. His hand was a bit plump and squishy, but had a rough texture; must have been from extensive gardening.
"My name is Samantha," I said quietly. I didn't know whether it was or wasn't rude to say "at your service" in return. I decided not to. He shook it all the same, with a small grin on his face.
"Well met, Miss Samantha. I trust you're feeling better now?" he asked politely, rocking back and forth on his large feet.
"Uh, yes, thank you," I replied. "What exactly happened?"
His brow instantly furrowed, and it was obvious he was trying to remember.
"Well, I was walking back to my house, when I noticed a commotion just a few yards away from the road. I then saw three hobbits cornering a fourth, which I found quite odd, since hobbits are usually peaceful people. It was then I noticed that these men are the Riverhill brothers, and they tend to be unnaturally unpleasant to everyone who's less than normal. It's quite unfortunate that you stumbled upon them before anyone else. I assure you that everyone else in Hobbiton is of a more kindly nature."
He cleared his throat nervously before he continued.
"Anyway, I decided to see what this was all about, and could hear that they were displeased with this person for some reason or other (this person being yourself, of course), and before I could interject their harsh words, you turned around to see me, swayed on your feet for a few seconds, then just collapsed on the ground. I rushed over to see if you were alright, and to get rid of those horrible Riverhills. I noticed that I had never seen you around Hobbiton before, and that you seemed to have passed out from exhaustion. So, I picked you up and brought you here to rest for a while. I knew it was a matter of time before you would come to." He finished his little story, and I noticed he spoke in somewhat of a shaky, unsure voice, and he had a little bit of a stutter. I couldn't help but find it incredibly adorable.
"Well...thank you for taking care of me," I said.
"It's my pleasure, Miss. Here, I have tea and cakes for you," he said suddenly, as if he just remembered. He quickly shuffled to the end table with the tray on it to pour me a cup of tea.
"I'd love some," I smiled as he handed me a cup. "And you can just call me Samantha. Or Sam, if you want."
"Well, to be honest, I prefer the name Samantha," he said, rather sheepishly.
"Why is that?" I asked.
At that, his whole face seemed to turn a strong pink hue.
"It's just a lot...prettier than 'Sam' I guess," he answered rather quietly. The poor guy. It appeared that Bilbo didn't have much experience with women.
We both sat down on the sofa and proceeded to drink tea and eat the cakes.
"Well, Samantha is my birth name, of course, but ever since I was little a lot of people have called me Sam," I said as I took a sip. This was some really really good tea.
He just nodded, and I could tell he didn't want to say anything else on the subject, for fear of embarrassing himself again.
I couldn't help but smile at how flustered he always seemed to be. As I nibbled on a second cake, a thought occurred to me.
"Just how long was I out?" I asked.
He looked up at a clock mounted on the wall, and I could see he was calculating the time.
"It was about two and a half hours ago when I brought you into my den," he assured me.
We were silent for a few moments, and I decided to tell him about my odd predicament.
"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly from around here," I started tentatively. I had his attention, all the same. "You see, you might find this hard to believe, but I actually come from a different world. And in my world, I'm not a – hobbit, like you all are, but I'm a human girl. A woman."
I stopped for a second to see if he was still following. He nodded his head in understanding. Astonished that he didn't seem confused, I continued.
"The last thing I remember before entering your world was this floating whirlpool that appeared before me. And in it, I saw glimpses of this place, almost like pictures in a book." I knew very well that he wouldn't understand if I said it was like a video. "And the next thing I knew, I had somehow gotten sucked into it, and I ended up here. My clothes somehow completely changed, and I now look more like a hobbit than a human." I hadn't seen myself in a mirror yet, so I wasn't sure if I even had the same face.
I waited for a response from him, fearing he would shun me from his house, claiming I was a lunatic or a witch or something.
"Hmm, interesting," was all he said. He looked deep in thought, his brow furrowed again. He got up then, and went over to one of the book shelves he had in the room. He seemed to be scanning the rows for something, and then he pulled out a certain book. He sat back down with this book and leafed through the pages as I silently waited for him to find what he was looking for.
"Ahh, here we are," he finally said. "It says here that there are certain magical anomalies that rarely appear in different realms and can transport a person between these realms, and in some cases, change their appearance according to the environment in which they land."
What? So this was something that actually existed? I hadn't dreamed it up?
"Wait, so you don't think I'm lying?" I asked, still astonished.
He chuckled. "Oh believe me, I have seen many a crazier thing in my lifetime than what you just described. Our world is riddled with magical occurrences and abnormalities. I can tell that your world doesn't seem to have the same circumstances, or at least, not as often as we do."
"No, we certainly don't," I mumbled.
He continued to scan the book silently, and I wondered if this really was an every day thing for people around here. Intriguing as it sounded, I remembered that this wasn't my world, and I had to return to my own.
"What about finding my way back? Is there a way?" I asked.
He continued to scan the book for a second before saying,"Oh yes, here." He pointed his finger a bit further down the page and read aloud. "'In order for someone to return to their own realm, one must seek the guidance of a wizard to cast a Realm Reversing spell. These spells can be complicated and lengthy for some wizards, so one must be patient before they can return to their home world.' Huh. So I guess we just need to find you a wizard to send you back home."
A wizard? I was actually going to meet a wizard. I felt like a little kid that got to go to the North Pole to meet the real Santa.
"I think in this case we ought to seek Gandalf to handle this task; he's the most trustworthy and reliable of all the wizards, in my honest opinion," Bilbo was saying half to himself.
"Gandalf? I get to meet Gandalf?" I could barely contain myself.
Bilbo stopped for a second and looked at me.
"Wait – how exactly do you know of Gandalf if you aren't from this world?" he asked, his brow in its trademark spot yet again.
"Well, in my world, we have these books that are about this world. In fact I had just purchased a book about some characters from this realm right before I ended up here." I didn't exactly want to say that the book I bought was specifically about him.
"Extraordinary," exclaimed Bilbo. "So you're saying that they have books about Middle-earth and its folk?"
"Yeah, pretty much." I also didn't want to tell him that these books were works of fiction.
"I don't think there are any books here that document your world – what was the name of it?"
"My world is called Earth," I said.
"Earth? Not a specific kind of Earth?" he asked.
I suppressed a giggle. "No, I'm afraid ours is the only Earth in our existence."
"Interesting," he muttered to himself again. "Well that settles it. First thing tomorrow, we will venture out to find Gandalf. I shall have to find out where he was last seen first thing in the morning." Now he seemed excited.
"Hold on – 'we'?" I asked, curious.
"Well...I was thinking that I might help you. You know, because you're" – he cleared his throat here – "not from here and all..." Oh dear Lord I think I broke him. But then he seemed to recover quickly and continued. "I'm sure you would love it. See what my world has to offer before you have to return to yours. I promise you, you won't be disappointed."
"I'm sure I won't," I smiled up at him.
We cleaned up the tea cups and cake crumbs and helped him prepare for supper. One thing I loved about the hobbit lifestyle was all their meals of the day. I was definitely one that enjoyed more than the standard three meals a day on Earth. Maybe being here in Middle-earth wasn't going to be so bad after all.
Bilbo prepared a guest room for me for the night, and I was able to take a bath before going to bed. I knew I wouldn't get many opportunities to bathe on this trip, so I was taking advantage of it while I still could.
After I drained the tub, I wrapped a towel around myself and made my way to head back to my room. I stopped when I noticed a mirror, and got a first look of what hobbit-me looked like.
My face was pretty much the same, but thinner. In fact, I noticed when I was in the bath tub that my whole body was somehow slimmer. This puzzled me, since hobbits are notorious for being a little on the chubby side. My hair was the same color, but it was also a bit shorter, and curly. I remember many times when I had wished for naturally curly hair. I had tried to perm it when I was eleven, but it didn't last long because I was told that it doesn't work on someone that hasn't hit puberty yet. Hormones and all that.
After examining myself in the mirror, I opened the bathroom door and quietly made my way back to my room. The thing is, though, is that Bag End, which is the name of Bilbo's house, is kind of on the big side. So needless to say, I kind of got lost finding my way back to my room. A lot of the doors to the rooms looked alike. I tiptoed as I opened each door in the hallway, looking in each one to see if it was mine.
Just then, I heard a door open behind me, and I turned to see Bilbo coming out of what I presumed was his room, and he was wearing his pajamas. They were striped and baggy and just adorable looking.
When he saw me standing there in nothing but my towel, he stopped abruptly and gave a tiny yelp. He put his hand over his eyes to shield him from seeing me in my undress.
"I am so sorry," I said, flustered and embarrassed. "I lost my way to my room."
"Uh, let me help you," he said, still keeping his hand over his face. I could see that it had pink again. He passed me as he led the way, and after turning a corner, I recognized which room was mine. He opened the door for me, politely motioned for me to enter, noticed my state of undress once more, and immediately went to cover his eyes again. I entered the room, and stood in the threshold.
"Thank you, Bilbo," I said, trying not to laugh out loud. "I'll try to remember my way next time."
"At your service, Samantha." I noticed that when he said my name, his voice got a bit quieter.
"Well, good-night," I said as I started to close the door.
At that, he put his hand down and dared to look at me. "Good night, Samantha. Remember to be up bright an early."
"I plan to," I said. Despite this awkward encounter, he was still being a perfect gentleman (gentlehobbit?). I admired him for it.
He nodded his head and we made eye contact for a moment before I closed the door. In that instant, he appeared to have overcome the fact that I was wearing nothing but a towel, and what I saw was naked emotion. Though to tell the truth, I couldn't quite pin which emotion he was trying to convey. His eyes were soft and kind, and they looked as if they had seen many things, and judging from his behavior, at least some of those things were good. But there was something else in his eyes just then that was more than just politeness, though again, I couldn't figure out what; and even though it was only for a second, there was no way I could have missed it. But then, that might have been because I was paying so close attention to him. Maybe too much attention.
The moment ended abruptly as he turned away and headed back for his own room, and I proceeded to close the door. I leaned against it, puzzled at what I just witnessed. I shrugged it off for the sake of getting the sleep I much needed, and quickly put on the pair of spare pajamas Bilbo had lent me.
As I got into the warm, inviting bed, I tried to set my mind towards the events that would commence tomorrow. Right before I fell asleep, I wondered if anyone at home missed me. I decided at that moment that I didn't really care.