AN: Ho, ho, ho! Didn't expect to see me back so soon, eh? Well, Merry belated Christmas! And Happy Holidays! Hope you all are safe and cozy!

*These chapters always double in size compared to what I plan out. I must talk too much. That being said, sorry if I promised something and it got pushed back a chapter—it would have been too odd/anxious of an ending, trust me.

I'm not begging but... PLEASE LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS! THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HAS REVIEWED OR PM-ED ME! IT MEANS A GREAT DEAL!

*I've also edited Chapter 7 so that it includes a bit of film dialogue. Check it out?

Possible Chapter SPOILER AHEAD: (maybe but nothing big lol)

For locations in this chapter, you may want to check out a gameplay video on Youtube for a good visual. If you're interested, just search "Duillond". A good one is "Middle Earth Highlights—Duillond" by user Elthodir; it's short and to the point. It's a shame the site doesn't allow us to post links or else this'd be easier lol.

To the Anons/ People who refused to log in ;]

Jo: Haha, thanks for telling me! I'm always so tickled to find out people's reactions to certain scenes!

VeryHappyReader: Bloody hell, thank you so much! I'm normally on the fence about decisions so its really great to hear that major ones worked out.

Guest (Dec 19): Oh! Happy belated birthday! Omg, thank you! It means a lot to know that how I write Fili is good—would you say he's in character or it's just a decent interpretation of him? I find it trying to balance his intelligence, humor and maturity. Maybe it works?

Punky warhammer: Oh my gosh, thank you! That's so flippin' nice to say- you got me smiling lol. I can never be too reassured that my sense of humor is coming through alright!

CHEERS ALL! ENJOY THE CHAPTER!

Chapter XX

Gallivanting with Gandalf the Grey

There was no grand send off, or another sorrowful farewell. I just woke up the next morning to the sound of Gandalf knocking at my door then we grabbed our things, and left before the sun fully rose.

It felt odd, walking through the still halls, knowing that Fili and Kili were probably still asleep, Gimli too, and probably everyone else. The rest of the company would soon follow us, later today or tomorrow. Had Bofur and his brother decided to join yet? Or was their accompaniment a last minute thing? I smiled at the thought. I couldn't wait to see them again. I bet Bifur'll be ecstatic to see me at Bag End(I hope). I wasn't sure if anyone else would be though—having the naked girl tag along.

The white mare from Bree was waiting for us in the stables, and as if knowing our intentions to leave the cold mountainside, greeted us with a snort and shake of her mane as if to say, "I'm so ready to leave!" There was little delay in strapping our supplies to her saddle and setting off into the crisp morning air.

I looked back over my shoulder at the Dwarf Kingdom, thinking back on its carved halls and glowing crystals. It felt heavy in my heart but in my mind, I knew it wouldn't be right to linger any longer. I'd already grown too fond of it and its people. Had we stayed even another day, I might have wanted to never leave.

"Good-bye, Ered Luin," I silently mouthed, so that Gandalf couldn't hear me.

I forced myself to look forward. No looking back. Em.

It had snowed overnight, judging by the fresh powdery inch of snow on the ground. It wasn't slippery, thank god, or else we might have had to walk the horse down the steeper slopes. Her hooves crunched into the snow, leaving its first set of tracks.

I wondered what Thorin was doing right now. Was he already awake? Asleep still in a bed, or camping in the wilderness? Was he cold? Would we run into him?

The thought was exciting- seeing Thorin again so soon and unexpectedly, just like old times, the three of us hiking around… So exciting that I involuntarily squeezed Gandalf's middle a bit tighter, causing him to look over his shoulder at me.

"Everything fine, Emily?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

I cast my eyes over the landscape, looking for a sign of the Dwarf-king. The only signs of life that I could see were little bird-prints on the branches and the occasional red squirrel. It's early; we still might bump into him…

"Hey, Gandalf… Where are we going?" I piped up, noticing that we were veering off from the path that we'd taken up to Thorin's Halls.

"I've chosen a different path for our passing," the Wizard said, not looking back. "Leave it to a Dwarf to choose the most direct route and not stray from it, even if another may prove to be easier for travel."

Yeah. That seemed like Thorin.

We headed southeast, into what was called the Vale of Thrain—imagine my surprise. It was a wild looking area that seemed to suit my friend well. Mountains rose on either side of us, tall and ancient, and a dense forest filled the vale, as well as a few Dwarven structures and bridges.

He could have been buried here, Thrain. I think he would have liked that, being in the open air and wilderness, the total opposite of that breath-stealing prison. I think he'd have loved it here.

Breakfast and snacks were eaten on horseback as we tried to make as good time as possible, riding for hours on end and only stopping when I insisted that my bladder was going to explode (four times) or that I couldn't feel my legs (it was really my bum). It was during the fourth stop that I convinced Gandalf we take a proper break and eat lunch, winning him over by saying that the horse agreed with me.

"This is the last stop until I say so, Emily Parker," he said firmly. "We've delayed for far too long."

"Aye, aye, captain!" I grinned, mock saluting him.

The Wizard simply shook his head and left, but I caught the smile on his face.

I sat on a boulder, after drying it with my coat (the snow had already melted by now). It was probably… in the afternoon? The sun was high, almost directly above us. According to Gandalf, we were in the Lowland Forests, which was almost halfway there. He said we should reach Hobbiton by tomorrow which gave me goosebumps.

I unwrapped the bundle of food on my lap, digging into my lunch of a small meat pie. It was still warm. And pretty good. I licked the gravy from my fingers once finished, and reached for my water pouch. After a long gulp of cool water that I could feel run down into my stomach, I sealed it and started to pack up.

Gandalf was still fiddling with his pipe, and made no move to jump back in the saddle. I think he understood how restless and bored I got so he was giving me a little extra time.

"Hey," I said, coming up to Ororo (I had named the horse after Storm from X-men). I untied my backpack from her saddle, to stuff my lunch things in, when she began to paw at the ground, annoyed. I immediately backed away, not wanting to stay near a giant peeved animal.

"Whoa, girl. What's the matter?"

Her ears were flat against her head which she tossed up and down, agitated.

"Emily?" called Gandalf, and by his tone, he assumed I had done something.

I held my hands up. "I didn't do anything!"

She started pulling at the reigns which tied her to the tree, whinnying lowly in a growl.

"Emily! Step back!"

"It's okay; something's just… spooked her," I said, my voice trailing off.

There was another low growl, not coming from the horse… My eyes looked past the tree and the frantic mare and spotted a flash of grey in the tall grass.

"Emily Parker!"

Gandalf's sharp tone cut me from my stupor and I ran back to where he stood, staff poised in front of him. I cast my worried gaze towards Ororo, and the grey animal that stalked us. A wolf.

You know, I had always been one of those "wolves are misunderstood creatures that are wrongfully depicted as vicious animals" people, and while I still stand by that, I couldn't possibly bring myself to think one positive thought about this particular wolf who was eyeing us down like rabbits. It just seemed damn murderous and way too overconfident. Like those nasty wolves from Narnia! And although this one didn't talk, the look in its eyes said clearly, "I'm here to fuck you up".

A weight on my belt suddenly sprang to my mind. My sword! I drew it none too gracefully, my hands shaking. As I held the blade in front of me, I realized just how badly I'd fair in a real fight, against a beast or man. It seemed all of my training went soaring out the window as I stood there numbly, staring as the wolf's silver eyes assessed us. It was the mark of intelligence and it meant nothing good for us.

The Wizard raised his staff towards the wolf and it sneered, knowing what it was and what Gandalf could do. Yet it didn't back down. Its gaze turned to me, half hiding behind Gandalf's robes. I was the obvious one to attack, the weaker one. I swear it smirked and began to circle us, scoping out a point to attack. My eyes were transfixed on it, and I wondered if I should shout or wave my arms. Did that work on anything other than bears? Did it even work on bears?

Gandalf swung around quickly and thrust out his staff arm behind me, sending three wolves flying. Holy crap! I hadn't even seen—My eyes scanned around us. There were at least a dozen wolves surrounding us, no less than ten feet away. How had they snuck up on us?

"What do we do?!" I cried but the Wizard was ignoring me, focusing on the pack.

All this time, I had been learning to fight opponents with weapons; I wasn't sure how to handle a pack of wolves!

My mind jumped, noticing we had stopped in the bed of a valley, all around us were hills. I remembered Thorin saying that high places were better vantage points and here we were at the bottom. Thorin. God, I wish he were here.

"Servants of Draugluin! Come no closer should you wish to keep your lives!" Gandalf boomed, the clouds starting to shadow us. The main wolf snarled, bending low to the ground as if to leap. The others following suit. "Too far have you strayed from Mount Gundabad," he whispered, more to himself than the beasts.

Something snapped behind the wolf's eyes, the knowledge Gandalf had setting it off. It barked out a command. I gripped my sword tighter. My heart was beating so fast, I thought it had stopped.

One of the lesser wolves took a step forward and that was all Gandalf needed to take action. He slammed the end of his staff on the ground, and a wave of energy rippled out around us, driving the pack of wolves away roughly.

"Return to your foul masters!" the Wizard commanded. "There are no victims for you here! Away with you!" he cried, brandishing the wooden staff with two hands. A burst of fire shot out at the wolves, making them scatter and howl in fright. "Away!"

The fire spread rapidly, rising higher and thicker, small sparks of white light dancing off the flames. Through the fire, I could see the wolves retreating, running off into the distance. Then Gandalf's magic withdrew, the fire extinguishing itself quickly, leaving no scorches on the earth and the clouds overhead dispersed and cleared. The Wizard eyes narrowed at the horizon, making sure the wolves had gone.

After a beat, I finally lowered my sword. "What in the hell was that all about?"

"Spies," Gandalf answered solemnly.

I gulped, "S-spies? You don't think from… from You-Know-Who, do you?"

He looked at me sharply. "Of that I cannot be certain. But I do know that whoever sent those wolves, and the ones from before, is no friend to us."

I blinked, finally connecting the dots. "The ones from before… When we were camping?"

"The very same," nodded the Wizard.

"Oh my god. Thorin's out there! A-alone! What if—You don't think—Will he be alright?! We have to go back! To warn him or—or!"

Gandalf held up his hands to silence me, "Thorin is more than out of our way. If those beasts have not crossed his path yet, I would be greatly surprised."

"You think he's been attacked?! Then we have to go—"

"Emily! Emily."

"—Did you know about this the whole time?" I accused. "What if Thorin's hurt or…"

"Emily Parker, do you honestly think Thorin Oakenshield could be so easily dispatched by wolves? Or that he hadn't the sense to foresee such an ambush? Hm?"

I felt the blood slow in my veins as his words sunk in, the pounding in my ears stopped as well. "I… So you think he's okay, then?"

"Quite. Although I am sure Lord Thorin would be both flattered and offended by your deep concern for his safety," the Wizard said, looking at me knowingly, in a very Dumbledore way had he been wearing half-moon spectacles.

I cleared my throat and looked away. "Yeah well… Just, got my adrenalin going, that's all… That was kind of intense, but you sure kicked butt! That was awesome!" I grinned, holding out my fist to Gandalf.

He eyed it oddly, raising a brow. "Do not expect me to know the meaning of this gesture," he said, quirking his lips. "The ways of Men are not unknown to me, but you, it would seem, have a culture all your own."

"It's a fist bump," I told him. "It means, er, good job or something like that."

Gandalf eyed me warily, and when he saw that I wasn't about to retract my hand, he decided to oblige me and uncertainly touched his fist to mine. I grinned even wider. Gandalf the Grey just fist bumped me.

He shook his head lightheartedly. "Perhaps you have spent too much time in the company of Dwarves," he teased.

Did Dwarves fist bump? It seemed like a rough gesture that would suit them.

"Do you think it was a good idea to let them go? The wolves, I mean," I asked, eyeing the spot where they disappeared. "Wouldn't it have made more sense to kill them or... drop em in a hole?"

The Wizard shook his head. "If the spies did not return, their masters would only send more. At least, now they know we are not to be taken lightly."

I nodded. I guess that made sense.

I heard Gandalf sigh. "This is a minor setback in our timing," he murmured, sounding irritated. "Our horse seems to have decided that we should walk the rest of the way."

I whipped around. "Seriously?!" I exclaimed, looking around for the blur of white and grey. Nothing. She must have broken loose during the attack and left. I could hardly blame her though. I groaned.

"Come along, Emily!" the Wizard shouted and I sloppily sheathed my sword to rush after him.

Gandalf and I continued through the wilderness for another mile or so, when we came to a dirt road. It was well-used, judging by the obvious hoof and wagon wheel tracks. We followed the trail diligently, not straying even an step. I kept casting my eyes around us, especially at our backs, expecting to see a flash of grey fur. If the wolves were still around, they were smart enough to stay hidden.

A few hours later, signs of civilization sprang up: fenced off crops, houses, grazing sheep and cattle. As the road began to curve, we came upon a large wooden building. Gandalf hummed in thought, "I suspect this may be a good time to rest, don't you agree?"

I nodded enthusiastically, overjoyed at the prosper of giving my feet a break, and we made our way up to the lodge. It was warm and comfortable inside, the interior a woodsy log cabin feel.

"Welcome!" greeted a jovial Dwarf. In his face were permanent laugh lines, etched deep from ages of smiling, and his beard, which was a bright blonde, was left unbraided and unadorned. "You look weary from travel," he said, particularly looking at me. "Come, sit down. Might I offer you a room?"

"No, thank you," declined Gandalf, politely. "We have a long way yet to travel still."

"Very well," said the Dwarf, just as nice as before. "How about a drink, then? A nice up of spiced milk for the lady? On the house."

I grinned at him. "Thank you!"

Gandalf and I sat at the counter. I sipped my mug of milk slowly. It was pretty good—sort of like chai tea but with a lot of cream. Gandalf made small talk with the lodge owner, Thrasi, evading his innocent questions about our journey and probing for information on wolf sightings.

"Wolves? Oh, yes, we've seen them now and again. Nasty things too. Always frightening the livestock down the road a ways," Thrasi said leaning on the counter. "Had a run in just last week, myself. Few big ones came up to the steps, sniffing about but my Little Miss scared them off. Took a sad bite to the leg, the poor dear, but my thistle mead is bringing her around." Thrasi addressed the corner of the room, "Isn't that right, Little Miss?"

I followed his gaze and found that Little Miss was actually a rather large and fluffy lynx, curled up in a small bed. At the sound of Thrasi's voice, she lifted her head and gave a groggy "mroow" which turned into a yawn. I smiled at the surprisingly tame feline. I want a pet lynx friend...

"Just came galloping out of nowhere," said a man who just entered the lodge with a friend. "Scared out of its wits, I'd say. Say," he continued, raising his voice. "Does anyone know anything about a loose horse? White with grey spots?"

Gandalf and I shared a look. "I believe that is our cue to take our leave."

Outside of Thrasi's lodge was Ororo, looking unabashed as she regarded us with a soft whinny. Well, it was nice to know she hadn't been eaten by wolves. And also that I hadn't lost my backpack.

So then, we set off down the road again, heading south. Eventually, the air lost the chill of the snowy northern mountains, and signs of Spring became apparent. There was an abundance of fruit-bearing bushes and green grass, and some of the trees were in bloom, covered in flowers instead of pine. It was a nice change, and I found that my winter coat was no longer needed, so I stowed it away.

It was late in the day and the sky had tinged pink and purple as the sun began to descend below the mountains. I felt sluggish, leaning into Gandalf's back as we rode on.

"Are we there yet?" I mumbled into his robes.

"At the Shire? No. But we will rest here for the night."

My head shot up to see where 'here' was and I immediately saw lights scattered above us, not stars but… the lights of a city.

"Whoa… Where are we?"

Gandalf turned and I saw his smile. "This, Emily, is Duillond, home of the Elves of Ered Luin."

Above us, perched on the side of a massive swell of land, was a city marked by domed roofs and open structures. We dismounted Ororo and led her up the winding stone path, into the heart of the city. The buildings were roughly cylindrical, hanging over the edge of the high hill like toadstools stacked atop each other.

We dropped Ororo off with a stable hand whom she practically ran to—it seemed she was quite fond of Elves, or at least the one. Many curious Elves watched us from the streets, talking of the Wizard and the blue-haired girl, when finally, one approached us.

"Mithrandir! Mae l'ovannen," said a male Elf, with a polite smile and long auburn hair. Of course, Gandalf already knew him. He knew everyone. "Le nathlam hí." He turned to me, realizing that I had no idea what he was saying. "Welcome to Duillond, my lady. I am Tegalad; I will be your host."

"Hi, I'm Emily," I waved, too tired to feel awkward or think about my words. "It's, er, nice to meet you."

Tegalad nodded, "If you will follow me, I shall show to your lodgings."

"I would be much obliged, Tegalad. Thank you," said Gandalf, gesturing for me to follow the Elf. He may have thought I'd wander off—had I not felt so beat from that few mile hike, he'd have been right to worry.

Tegalad led us high over the expanse of Duillond. The Elven city spiraled upwards, spanning over the rushing River Lune, and rising from the ground in delicate arches, bridges and spired towers. As the night began to settle over the land, the many small lanterns lining the paths sprang to life on their accord, bathing the city with a moonlit glow.

My eyes washed over as much as I could, noting that Duillond's beauty nearly rivaled that of Rivendell. The graceful architecture was there but, I suppose it lacked the dramatic location of the Last Homely House. Surely, if Duillond sat over a massive waterfall, it'd be equally breathtaking. But that didn't make it any less spectacular a sight.

Granted, it wasn't like the Dwarven kingdom of Ered Luin either. If given the choice to choose between them, I think I wouldn't have given this place a second glance. It just lacked a sense of… of what? Security? Fond memory? Friends?

It was an interesting thought. While the Elves put their cities on display, building out in the open, the Dwarves, on the other hand, burrowed in the earth, keeping their communities cut off and secret from the outside world. I smiled. I suppose I was really lucky, being allowed to share in their lives, even for a short while. It was a bit of an honor.

"Emily?"

Gandalf had said something before.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said I will be just down the hall if you need me," the Wizard restated, sharing an I-told-you-so look with Tegalad.

I blushed. "Right. Er, okay. G'night."

Gandalf gave me a nod and a gruff "good night", before shutting his door, leaving me and Tegalad alone in the hall. "Shall we?" he asked.

"Sure," I replied, now a little uncertain of my words.

We walked down the hall in silence, when our host spoke up. "You are a friend of Durin's folk," he stated hesitantly, and although I hadn't seen his eyes leave mine, I'm sure he saw Thrain's cuff. Or maybe I just smelt of Dwarf, if that was a thing.

"Yeah," I said confidently, not caring if it would upset him or not. Although Tegalad seemed decent enough, I wasn't going to pretend like the Durins weren't my friends. They seemed like… more than that. Family, almost. "I am… Is that a problem?"

"No, of course not," Tegalad replied, shutting his eyes briefly. "I was merely curious."

I crossed my arms. "Are you and them… getting along or…?"

He raised his brows. "We have co-existed with the Dwarves of Ered Luin in peace for many years, but as of late, I am afraid, tensions have arisen… It is quite unfortunate."

"Hm." I didn't know what to say. I wanted to ask what about but felt I'd only end up defending the Dwarves' actions, and making things more weird.

We stopped at a door, and Tegalad motioned me to my room. "I hope it is to your liking, my lady," he smiled, as if nothing awkward had taken place, then opened the door for me.

To my liking—please, it was fucking gorgeous. The bed frame alone was probably worth more than my parents' house. "Yeah, it's great. Thank you."

Tegalad paused, as if wanting to say something more.

"What is it…?" I ventured, since he had neither dropped his thought nor shared it.

He met my eyes and his lips tried to smile. "It is nothing, my lady. Your shadow on the wall, it alarmed me."

I looked over my shoulder to what he meant. One of the inside lanterns was casting my shadow.

"Sleep well, my lady," he bid, his tone was one of concern.

"T-thanks," I replied but when I turned around, Tegalad had already gone.

I shut the door and turned back to the shadow on the wall. Strange... Why would that alarm him? The flickering glow of the lantern made it twist and climb the ceiling as if it were alive.

We awoke just as the sun was coming up, the bottom of the sky a bright pink and the top still a deep indigo. Rising early seemed to be Gandalf's favorite thing; he never seemed tired at all. I, on the other hand, was all yawns and grumbles.

Gandalf led Ororo by the reigns out of Duillond, as we headed east for the Shire. I downed the small piece of lembas bread that Gandalf had produced—whether he got it from Duillond or if he had had it the entire time, I wasn't sure. But it tasted fresh, and slightly sweet, and within a minute, my stomach was full.

I walked on the other side of Ororo. Her dark eyes were glassy as if she was still half asleep too. I ran a hand along her smooth cheek; she didn't seem to mind.

Soft birdsong, our quiet footsteps and Ororo's hooves on the stone path were the only sounds audible in the quiet morning. Then, after a few minutes' walk from the city, rushing water met my ears.

"Whoa, sweet!" I exclaimed, running ahead.

A small waterfall fell to our right, beside a high arched bridge of white. I paused for a moment, the water misting over my face, then continued on. Once over, a short set of stairs descended down the grassy plain and evened out to another, longer bridge that would carry us out of the Blue Mountains. It was long and old, scattered patches of moss growing between the stones, and stretched over a wide, flowing river that glittered in the morning light. "This is… You said it was the Lune River?" I called to Gandalf who was a few paces behind me.

"Yes."

I stopped peering over the edge to raise a brow at him. "That's it? Just a 'yes'? I was expecting a history lesson. Actually looking forward to it." What happened to tour guide Gandalf?

The Wizard gave a slight frown in thought. "Well, you see here?" he said, pointing over the right side of the bridge. "Before the War of Wrath—"

"You mean with Isildur and Sauron?"

"No, no, long before that, Emily, in the First Age! It was a long and bloody war... In it, the bane of all evil, Morgoth himself, led his dark forces against the Host of the Valar in and around these very lands."

I looked out at the terrain around us. "Morgoth was here…? He stood here?"

"Well, not exactly. This bridge hadn't existed then. If it had, it would have undoubtedly been destroyed."

"Really?"

"Oh yes. The damage inflicted upon the earth was utterly devastating which resulted in much of the land falling under the sea. The Blue Mountains were split apart, as I was saying, and the Gulf of Lune formed, where the river now flows today. Before the war, it had flowed much farther south, into the Brandywine."

"Wait... how is that possible? For fighting to break apart mountains and such. Was it like… a giant wizard battle or… with magic?"

"There was dark magic at work, yes. But sheer strength was more than enough to do damage. In the last throes of the war, Morgoth brought forth great dragons, headed by the most enormous and fearsome Arda has ever seen, Ancalagon the Black," he said, his voice grave.

I looked over at him. "Was he like… Godzilla big?"

"I beg your pardon?"

I shook my head. "I mean… Bigger than Smaug?"

"My dear, compared to Ancalagon, Smaug is a mouse beneath a bear's paw."

My eyes widened, trying to picture a creature that big and failing. It was like trying to picture one of the stars bigger than the sun or the full expanse of the universe—it was just not going to happen.

"But… they managed to defeat him?" I asked in awe.

"That they did," he nodded.

I was silent a moment. "And… Morgoth. What happened to him exactly?"

"After the Great Battle, Morgoth fled. He slunk back to Angband and hid himself in the deepest dungeons in a vain attempt to recover."

"But it didn't work," I guessed.

"No. He was discovered and in his weakened state, conquered. His iron crown was forced around his neck and he was bound by the Angainor, a powerful chain forged by the great smith, Aulё. You may know him by another name: Mahal."

"Oh!" I cried, jumping on the spot. I definitely did know that name! "He created the Dwarves! So he… chained up Morgoth? And it worked?"

"That it did, Emily. The chain has held Morgoth imprisoned in the Timeless Void ever since. His evil will not touch Middle Earth again. His legacy however…"

Sauron.

It was hard to imagine someone worse than him though. Stronger. More evil.

"But he was the worst, right?" I went on, "How could anyone beat someone so powerful?"

At this Gandalf smiled, leaning on his staff. "The same way any evil, great or small, is overcome. With both courage and a strong will. Darkness will only prevail where there is no light," he told me gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Now come along. We have a burglar to find."

I waited a bit longer, feeling a bit lighter, and thinking that maybe I really stood a chance against all of this crazy shit.

"Emily."

"Coming! Wait, wait, don't get on yet! I need a lift onto the horse!"

The orange-pink now took up most of the horizon, accompanied by a pastel purple. The land became very familiar after only a little bit of riding. The lush green hills of the Shire rose and fell and the wildflowers became less wild and more neatly arranged as if they had the sense and manners to grow off of the main road.

My morning weariness had burnt off by now as I started making out Hobbit hole doors. The sun wasn't even fully up—would Bilbo even be awake?

"Are we there yet,Mithrandir?" I droned, emphasizing his Elvish name.

He frowned at me. "I distinctly get the impression that you are attempting to poke fun at me."

I was sitting in front of him this time so I turned to grin. "Is it working?"

"No."

"Shucks," I cried, feigning upset. "So… how many names do you have?"

Gandalf sighed. He could tell by my tone that I was in a bored mood, which meant nonsensical questions. "Many," he replied shortly.

I twisted my lips. "So, what if I call you by another name? Like a new name. Would you answer to that…?"

"That depends on what you would see fit to call me."

"How about… Magneto?"

"Magneto?" he repeated, confused. "Are you sure that's a name?"

"Yes."

"Well, it hardly suits me, I think."

"Okay. What about… Ian?"

"Gandalf will do just fine," he said in a final tone.

I ducked my head to smile. Fair enough.

It wasn't very long until we came upon a wooden sign that forked four ways. We took the path that led to West Farthing. There were picket fences and potted shrubs that lined the road, and wandering chickens and sleeping pigs, and patches of vegetables and large pumpkins that looked in danger of rolling down the hills. There weren't many signs of Hobbits being awake, aside from a light inside a few homes or steady chimney smoke. I didn't find it particularly chilly, so it seemed odd that so many of them would feel the need to run their fireplaces. Perhaps it was colder since their smials were underground.

A great tree stood beyond an expansive lake, and I recognized it as the Party Tree. That's where Bilbo does his disappearing act oh so many years from now… I wondered if I'd be around to go to his party… Or if the company… If Thorin… Oh, I can see his house from here!

My mind tried to wander back.

There is it, sitting on the highest hill, with his little tree on top!

I wouldn't let it wander back.

I can't make out any chimney smoke from here. Maybe Bilbo was asleep, after all. Would we wake him or wait it out? Lurk around his house till he gets up? That isn't creepy. But either way…

Geez, it was only a matter of time before the big meeting started. Well, it was a long time away… But still, it felt right around the corner. Tonight! It was tonight! Will it be like I pictured? Everyone coming together and the singing and… and me there. Not exactly a fly on the wall.

"Hey, Gandalf…?"

"Hm?"

I licked my lips. "What exactly did you tell Thorin…? About me coming along…?"

"Nearly nothing," he shrugged. "Lord Thorin did not feel the need to bring you into conversation in regards to the Quest. It seems he has made the assumption that you won't be joining us and I thought it best to let him hold that assumption until the last moment possible."

"So… what? He thinks you're just ditching me?"

"I told Thorin that I must first drop you off to stay at an old friend's house before I procure our burglar. I may have forgotten to mention that the old friend and the burglar are one in the same," Gandalf said with a smile and I could tell he was so pleased with his own cleverness.

But hell, I was too. Thorin, I suspect, won't be as impressed.

Despite myself, I smiled. "Bilbo."

Gandalf looked at me with a curious expression. "You surprise me, Emily. Sometimes, I forget that your guise of being a seer holds more truth than not."

I grinned proudly. "Thanks. I guess you could say I'm… out of this world."

The quiet admiration Gandalf had in his eyes was quickly extinguished at my joke and replaced with weariness. I kept grinning though. My excited was mounting!

Oh my god, oh my god. I was nearly bouncing in the saddle. Nearly. We were so close. In Hobbiton! Going to meet—I was going to meet Bilbo Baggins!

Ororo trotted up Bagshot Row, my anticipation building. "What should I say?" I asked suddenly. "Can I say 'hello' first? Oh, no. You go first. You introduce us and then I'll say 'hello'. Or would 'hi' be fine? Is that more casual? Do you think he'd be okay with casual?"

"Emily, I believe it'd be for the best if I were to do the talking," Gandalf replied.

"I can't even say 'hello'?" I cried, indignantly.

"You may say 'hello' and nothing more."

I huffed. I'll talk to him plenty later on, I told myself. I drew in a deep breath as we approached Bag End. Oh, I could see the green of his door! And the mailbox! And his garden! And—someone's rear end sticking out of the flowers?

Gandalf halted Ororo in front of the gate, and cleared his throat to get the owner of the rear end's attention. What was Bilbo doing in there? Looking for earth worms? When he didn't respond, the Wizard gave me a look then said in a loud voice, "Good morning!"

"Oof!" came the flustered reply and a curly mop of hair shot out of the flowers, looking around for the source of the greeting but not bothering to turn around.

"Hem-hem," I coughed as obnoxiously as I could, and the Hobbit turned with a start.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, falling onto his backside. "You gave me a fright, you did!"

My eyes widened, realizing at once that it wasn't Bilbo crawling about in his garden. This Hobbit was much older with dark brown hair and sideburns and ears that stuck straight out.

"My apologies, Mr…?" Gandalf began.

"Holman's my name, official gardener for the Western-most part of Hobbiton," he said proudly, taking a hold of his suspenders. His cocky smile dropped, as if realizing just how odd a pair we were to be riding through the Shire before sunup. "And just who are you?"

"We are friends of Mr. Baggins," Gandalf lied smoothly. "Is he awake?"

"Hm? Mr. Baggins? Oh, yes, yes," Holman nodded, looking around for something. "Hamfast! Where are you? Where are those lady beetles?"

"Right, here, Mr. Greenhand, sir! I have them!" shouted someone from the other side of Bag End. A pudgy blonde Hobbit came running, tripping twice, with a small container in his hand. "Right here!"

"Good, good. What's taken you so long?" Holman chastised. "We need to have this whole garden weeded and de-pested before the hour's up! We have a schedule, you know!"

"Yes, Mr. Greenhand, sir! Sorry, sir!"

"You weren't eating on the job again, were you?"

"No, sir! I promise, sir!" he said, unaware of the bit of jam on his shirt.

Holman groaned. "Why'd I ever apprentice you, boy?"

Hamfast perked up, happily. "Well, my father—"

"I know why! Just… get to weeding!"

I watched Hamfast scurry off, looking incredibly like his future son. I half smiled at the retreating Hobbit. God, he looked so much like Sam.

Gandalf cleared his throat, Holman clearly trying to ignore us."Might we speak with him?"

"The boy?" Holman asked. "What for?"

"Mr. Baggins."

"Oh! No, no. That would be impossible!"

"Impossible? How so?"

"Well, Mr. Bilbo's not at home, is he?" Holman said, shaking his head.

"He's not at home?" I cried, earning a wild look from the Hobbit. "What do you mean 'not at home'? He has to be!"

Holman squinted at me, perhaps wondering if my hair were a trick of the early light. "I meant just as I said, miss, didn't I?" he shot, getting all bothered. "He's not at home!"

Gandalf sighed. "Might I ask where he is? And when he'll return?"

"Mr. Bilbo's out on one of his walks," Holman said, matter of factly. "Said it's the Elves' New Year or something to that extent. Think he's gone off to the woods or something like he does. Awfully curious fellow, he is, too curious sometimes for a respectable Hobbit like he is. But you didn't hear that from me! In fact, we haven't spoken at all! Good morn to you sir, ma'am, but I have some business to be busy on!" And with that he hurried back to the garden, going tail up.

I turned to Gandalf, dismayed. "Well, what do we do? Look for him?"

He shook his head. "Waiting until his return seems the wisest option, and not on his front porch," he said, nudging Ororo into motion. "It was fortunate, I think, that we spoke with Mr. Greenhand. Hearing this of Bilbo Baggins is reassuring; I was not sure if he was the same daring Hobbit I had met all those years ago."

My brows met. "So, you weren't sure which Hobbit to recruit as the burglar?"

"I have had Mr. Baggins in mind, I admit, but until now I was not certain."

"But… didn't you give Thorin his name before he left? So he knew where to meet up?"

"No, I simply said that I would mark the burglar's door with a rune. He needn't know of my uncertainties."

Yeah, it wasn't as if this were incredibly important to him. Or that he was staking his life on this Quest… I wanted to retort but didn't. It wouldn't do any good.

It always surprises me, how fast the sun rises. It seems to take its time creeping over the horizon and then suddenly—boom! Bright as ever daylight. I felt like a vampire for awhile, trying to hide in the shade of Gandalf's wide hat until we dismounted. Again, I so need sunglasses.

And also, just as quickly as the sun, Hobbiton sprang to life, leaving me feeling a bit exposed. But I supposed, I'd be a spectacle even without my blue hair and strange clothes.

"I think it is about time that I pay our burglar a visit," Gandalf said, starting to lead Ororo up towards Bag End. "The Dwarves should be arriving by nightfall, and it would be best if Mr. Baggins is well prepared for it... or as much as he can be."

I snorted. Giving Bilbo a very vague invitation was considered preparation? Then again, if Gandalf had been more direct and told him that thirteen Dwarves were on their way to his house, the little Hobbit would've probably barricaded his door and windows.

We stopped at a close hill, so that we were still out of sight if he happened to look our way. I couldn't see him, but I knew he was there.

Gandalf gave me the reigns of the horse and at my questioning look explained, "I think I'd like to surprise him."

Oh, you sure will, I thought wryly as he walked off.

I wasn't peeved that I was being left out or anything. That moment seemed too special, so it didn't seem right to intrude.

I waited a few moments, petting Ororo's nose. I only heard the murmur of their voices from over the hill, and could only hear a few words. I smirked as Bilbo's tone went quite shrill. Poor dear. I bet his morning was going so well until now.

I tried to strain my ears but to no avail. Instead, I played out the dialogue as best as I remembered in my head. Not long after, there was the sound of a slamming door and I figured the conversation was very over. I imagined Gandalf was drawing the rune on Bilbo's door and waited for the Wizard's reappearance.

Gandalf rounded the corner, shaking his head and muttering, annoyed.

"He good morning-ed you, didn't he?"

"To say the least!"

I smiled at his flustered demeanor. He was kind of adorable when he was grumpy Storm-Crow Gandalf.

"What're we gonna do now?" I asked, handing back the reigns.

"Well, I suppose I'll acquire the needed amount of ponies for our journey," the Wizard replied. "I hear there is a farmer just north of Tuckborough who seems to have the exact number of ponies as there are members of the company."

"Fifteen?"

He coughed, "Erm, well. Closer to fourteen."

"A-am I not going to be part of the company?" I squeaked, frantically. Had he forgotten to tell me that he's really ditching me at Bilbo's? Am I going to be a house sitter?!

The Wizard raised a hand to calm me. "Do not be so easily offended; I imagine your going will cause much disdain among the Dwarves enough as it is. I only meant that you would be riding with a partner and will not need a pony of your own, unless your skill of riding has improved since we left the Blue Mountains?"

I frowned. "No…"

"Well, then it is settled."

"So, I'm not pony shopping with you?"

Gandalf tossed me a small pouch that jingled when I caught it—money. "You may want to spend your time doing something more productive. Such as finding yourself some clothes that are a little less conspicuous," he suggested.

"You mean I could've got some badass Elvish clothes back in Duillond?" I gaped.

The Wizard seemed ready to roll his eyes. "I do not believe our Dwarven companions would have taken kindly to that."

"Point taken," I replied. "But still. I'm short, but I'm not exactly Hobbit short…"

"They may be smaller than most, I grant, but Hobbits are generally wider around the middle—that should make up for it." He gave me a nod and gracefully swung into the saddle. "I'll be seeing you later this evening… I trust you'll stay out of trouble?"

"Yes."

"And you'll tell no one of the quest?"

Yes."

"Including Mr. Baggins?"

"Yes."

"And you won't pester him too badly?"

"Yes, mom."

Gandalf scowled. "Be sure that you don't! I imagine it'll take some convincing for him to agree."

"But he will," I said which made the Wizard pause.

He gave me a curt nod, trying to look serious but I saw the twinkle in his eyes. "Take care, Emily."

"See ya later."

I watched him and Ororo trot off down the road, the steady sound of hooves on dirt slowly fading then Gandalf's voice was heard again, singing softly to himself.

"The road goes ever on and on,

Under cloud and under star,

Yet feet that wandering have gone,

Turn at last to home afar."

I smiled at his retreating form before turning around and deciding where my feet would take me. I assumed it'd be way too soon to try Bilbo—he'd probably not unlock his door for another few hours. So, that meant I had time to kill. I looked around Hobbiton with barely contained fervor. Exploring it is…

Footnotes

1) Most of the geographic locations and its occupants are taken from LOTRO, such as Thrasi's Lodge and Duillond—Tegalad is mine though.

2) On what Gandalf says to the wolves… Draugluin is the name of the first "werewolf" created/remade by Sauron. Werewolves, in the Tolkien sense, were bred from wolves and inhabited by evil spirits. They appeared to be massive wolf creatures, somewhat resembling our concept of a werewolf, but lacking their ability to shapeshift into human form and their dependency on the moon. Basically, they were just the horrible, terrifying part of the werewolf mythology—joy. Anyway, Draugluin was host to an evil spirit sent by Morgoth himself (aka Sauron's bigger, badder pimp lord) and was the sire of all werewolves. It could be assumed that the Wargs of the Third Age are descendant from him.

3) The War of Wrath is another canon event. It marked the fall of Morgoth and the rise of Sauron, since he was the baddest mother left in Arda.

4) The whole thing with Holman Greenhand is canon! But between meeting him and Bilbo was a few weeks, so I sped it up a bit for the sake of the story. And yes, Little Hamfast Gamgee! Omg.