Whew, back from vacation, sort of, we have some more plans. We finally get to see parts of the Company's perspectives, Yay. This Chapter doesn't have Bilbo perspective, and the next one won't either. This is where I'm going to get the Dwarves and Lobelia caught up to Bilbo's timeline. All this is happening two days after Bilbo ran off, so let's see, that would put Bilbo... on the morning they meet Aeliana and Brand. Once Lobelia and the Company get caught up to Bilbo's timeline, I'll start going back and forth between them. Anyways, enjoy!

Chapter 12

Lobelia stared, wide-eyed, at the man before her. He stood taller than any Hobbit, with a long grey beard and a pointed hat that shadowed his piercing eyes. His presence exuded a mix of authority and mystery. She felt her heart skip a beat.

'Bilbo's original Quest!' she thought as she stared up at the wizard before her. Oh! how Lobelia wanted to leap for joy, surely this wizard would bring Bilbo back! Lobelia opened her mouth to tell the wizard everything, to beg him for his help in bringing Bilbo back from her utterly stupid suicide mission but the words of The Old Took choked the very air in her throat.

We can't tell anyone.

Thoughts of Bilbo being hunted down and killed flashed behind Lobelia's eyes if an evil caught wind of her quest.

"Good morning," Lobelia strangled out instead, perhaps she could trust the wizard and tell him but she wasn't going to do it here, not out in the open like this, and she needed to update the Thain and kids about the wizard.

"What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not?" The wizard said leaning against his staff. Lobelia opened her mouth and gapped at him, was he serious? Good morning, it was a greeting, not some hidden double-meaning code word. "Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning, or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on." If it had been anyone else to ask her such a question Lobelia would have rolled her eyes and told them to stop being a pain in the ass because you very well know what good morning means, instead Lobelia bit back her normal sharp retort, best to be in his good graces.

"All of them at once I suppose," the man hummed out a low sound, almost like disapproval, and Lobelia's hackles raised. He was the one asking stupid questions! Lobelia took a deep breath to calm down, she needed his help after all.

"Can I help you?" She asked instead, hoping that he would say yes so they would go inside and they could talk business.

"That remains to be seen, I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure," he said dramatically like he was revealing an enticing apple. Lobelia gave him a flat stare, the little bitch! Adventure is what put her in this situation in the first place, and because he didn't find Bilbo he's asking her for a different hobbit to go on his adventure? He didn't even ask where Bilbo was!

"Adventures are stupid, nasty, disturbing things, and fit for only suicidal hobbits," Lobelia growled clutching her pipe in her fist. This wizard was a jackass and would be of no help in finding Bilbo. Here he was asking for another hobbit to fulfill his quest without even bothering to ask after Bilbo! No, clearly he doesn't care, Lobelia would just have to find another way.

"Good morning!" Lobelia spat as she turned on her heel, letters in hand, after ripping open the mailbox to see if any word on Bilbo had come in yet.

"To think I should have lived to be good morning by Belladonna Took's daughter as if I were selling buttons at the door!" The wizard said a thin layer of offense coating his voice. Lobelia froze, slowly she turned to look at the wizard in question.

"I beg your pardon." She said but it was not friendly, Lobelia could feel a slowly growing anger planted in her.

"You've changed, and not entirely for the better Bilbo Baggins." He said in disappointment. Lobelia had never before felt such a rage. Bilbo looked nothing like Lobelia, Lobelia had dark curly ringlets all the way to her midback, and Bilbo had Strawberry Blond hair in waves to her shoulders. Bilbo's skin was a beige while Lobelia's was an ivory. Everything about them was contrasting, Lobelia had sharp features, Bilbo's were soft, Bilbo had green eyes, and Lobelia's were brown. Lobelia didn't even look like Bilbo's parents in any way. How dare he! HOW DARE HE! This Man! By Yavanna tell her this man did NOT just imply that Bilbo Baggins grew up to be a disappointment! Especially after he so utterly failed to identify he was indeed talking to Bilbo Baggins. Even Bilbo would have cut into this man for that. He had no right!

"Who the fuck do you think you are?!" Lobelia demanded practically vibrating in her righteous anger. This it seems got the man's approval because he had the audacity to smile at her. Smile!

"I am who I am and I am who I was and I am who I always will be." He said gleefully, Lobelia wanted to strangle him.

"What?!" Lobelia said, warning him that he best change his answer.

"You know my name though you do not remember I belong to it. I'm Gandalf and Gandalf means me," he said proudly as he looked to her. Lobelia just scowled at him.

"I know who you are! I'm not stupid! Only one man wearing all grey comes to the shire dragging off poor hobbits on adventures around here. I thought we had seen the last of you 60-something years ago. That's not what I wanted to know! I wanted to know where you got the nerve to even come here spouting out your unwanted opinions to a virtual stranger!" she practically screamed, her unoccupied hand itching for her umbrella. Gandalf hummed as he looked at her this way and that.

"Well, that's decided," he said pointing at her "It will be very good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall Inform the others." He said before turning around and walking off.

"WHAT?" Lobelia screamed at his retreating back but he was gone. "Son of a bitch!" Lobelia muttered as she turned back around and stormed into the house, slamming the door behind her.

"Oh Lobelia, I was just about to bring you some tea, are you alright?" Primula had a cup of tea in her hands and looked worriedly at her.

"What happened to you? You're usually pretty calm after a good smoke." Posco added poking his head out from the kitchen, followed by the rest of his siblings. Lobelia pinched the skin between her eyes and gestured for Prim to follow her into the kitchen where she proceeded to tell them about her encounter with the wizard. Unknown to the occupants of the home, the meddlesome wizard had circled back around to leave a mark on the door.

Thorin Oakenshield was no stranger to the road, almost the entirety of his adult life he had been traveling from place to place. But as he traveled towards the Shire, He couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss, though he couldn't quite place it. It was a strange feeling, not like his keen instincts, honed through years of hardship and battle, that told him to remain vigilant. No, it was something else, it felt like that time when his brother and sister had moved everything in his room a fraction to the left, not something his eyes noticed but his body did. It was aggravating and left Thorin feeling quite sour that he couldn't figure it out, and worse still, he had no reason to be so sour.

The journey had been relatively quiet, peaceful even. The road was steady, the weather was fair, and the lush greenery of the land meant that the food was plentiful. The only sounds were the rhythmic clopping of hooves and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. His brother Frerin, rode alongside him, smoking contently on his pipe and enjoying the perfect weather.

"Alright, you've been sulking for days, what's wrong?" Frerin asked exasperated as he released a smoky breath. Thorin scowled.

"Nothing is wrong," Thorin said decisively while straitening in his saddle. Frerin rolls his eyes and scoffs.

"Exactly, nothing is wrong. So why are you being such a drag in the mud?" Frerin replies in that way that only younger siblings can. Thorin chucked a spare apple at him without even looking, Frerin caught it and started crunching on the fruit while giving him a smug smirk. "Ooh, going straight to violence, must be a real twister eating you up inside huh? Should I get some tea and biscuits to snack on while you stew?" he mocked.

"Shut up Frerin" Thorin snapped, Frerin gasped and put a hand dramatically over his heart.

"Oh you have wounded me brother!" he exclaimed pretending to writher in agony, "Oh the pain! it's getting dark! I feel so cold!" Thorin couldn't help the pained groan that escaped from his lips as he rubbed a hand over his face.

"Mahal I deeply regret bringing you with me." Thorin groaned and Frerin got a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Please, I'm a delight. Besides, without me, you would be dramatically brooding in a corner with no friends and everyone would rather drink piss than endure your presence." Frerin said cheerily and Thorin covered his face with both hands.

"You suck," Thorin said plainly, although it was muffled, through his palms.

"And swallow," Frerin replied cheekily and wiggling his eyebrows.

"Oh, Mahal Frerin! Seriously?! Gah, you're gross." Thorin whined rubbing at his ears and cringing. Frerin gave his brother a vicious smile.

"Oh, do you not want to hear the details of my sex life?" Frerin replied innocently, too innocently. Thorin's head whipped around to glare at his brother.

"Don't you dare!" He growled, Frerin gave him a shark-like grin.

"Oh but brother, you could use the advice, let's see, where to start?" Frerin mused turning in his saddle to face his body towards his brother.

"Alright, Alright, Mahal, alright," Thorin exclaimed holding up his hand to forestall whatever his brother was going to say. He would tell Thorin too, Frerin had no shame, there were just some things that you didn't need to know about your siblings. Frerin's grin became triumphant as he waited for Thorin to speak. Thorin sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair.

"It's this feeling," Thorin finally admitted, his voice low and gruff. "Something's off. I can't explain it, but I feel like something isn't quite right."

Frerin face sharpened into a mask of refinement and he straitened in his saddle. "Does it feel like trouble?" he said utterly serious, Thorin's gut feelings were usually spot on. Thorin shook his head as his face pinched into the same mask he had been wearing for days, conflicted and annoyed.

"No, well not exactly. It feels like something is missing. I've checked all our supplies five times so I know I didn't forget anything, but it feels like fighting with a brand-new sword it doesn't feel the same." Thorin said brows wrinkled as he tried to explain what he was feeling. Frerin gave a hum of acknowledgment and a contemplative look crossed his face.

"Do you think it has something to do with the Quest? Finally settling and going back home after so many years of being a traveling blacksmith." Frerin asked while stroking his braided beard. Thorin rubbed the back of his neck at the thought. That could definitely be it, what he was feeling, but it didn't quite ring true.

"Maybe." He said although it was unconvincing. Frerin hummed again.

"Perhaps it is you being king," Frerin said. Thorin stilled and turned to look at him.

"What do you mean?" Thorin asked, perhaps harsher than he meant to, but something about the way Frerin said that made Thorin feel particularly vulnerable, like glass, easily shattered and see-through. Frerin looked at him and his eyes were calm and deep, like the ocean on a clear day. Eyes that seemed to see everything.

"You don't want to be king," Frerin said like the deepest darkest secret Thorin held was just common knowledge. Thorin gaped at him in shock before anger took hold of him. Before he could release it Frerin continued on.

"You love our people Thorin, there is absolutely no question or doubt about that, but you have never felt comfortable ruling over people or being the one in the hot seat when it comes to playing politics. When trouble comes for our people, you act, you fix it. That's what you've always done, playing the part of being revered or the perfect prince who has to jump through all these bureaucratic hoops... It kills you Thorin, and don't think that me and Dis don't see it. We do, you have always taken on the hardest challenges for us and your people so we don't have to put up with it but it's wearing you down, you don't have to do that anymore. Know that we have your back and if you don't want it we'll figure out another way together, just know that you have options." Frerin said like he didn't just break Thorin's entire worldview and then took another puff from his pipe.

Thorin was left in stunned silence, he turned away to keep the lump of tears that was choking him at bay. It was silent for a good five minutes with Frerin smoking his pipe again.

"I'll keep that in mind." Thorin croaked out at last breaking the silence, Frerin gave Thorin a kind understanding smile before it flashed into something more mischievous.

"Who knows, maybe this funny feeling you're having is your One," Something in Thorin shook, "Maybe she figured out who you are. Maybe, she's trying to find you." Frerin teased giving Thorin a wink, Thorin chuckled and shook his head. But internally something about that statement struck a cord and Thorin couldn't help but wonder. The feeling didn't feel like his One was trying to find him, It felt like she was moving away from him, like she was in trouble.

Lobelia sat fuming in the kitchen, the remnants of her encounter with Gandalf still simmering in her mind. She angrily sipped her tea, trying to calm her nerves. Primula sat across from her, concern etched on her face, while Posco and the other siblings hovered nearby.

"That damn wizard is meddling! " Lobelia declared, slamming her cup down. "We're already in enough trouble. We don't need him adding to it. He's a bastard, a right bastard! Acted like us hobbits are disposable."

"I agree," Primula said, nodding. "But this could be our chance, he doesn't know about Bilbo. If he knew about Bilbo's Quest he might just go after her, maybe he would bring her back, maybe he would protect her. Either way, it's our best bet. He's a wizard, it's his duty to protect Middle Earth, In this instance, that would mean protecting Bilbo too,"

"We should talk to Great Grandfather," Dora suggested, hands clasped in contemplation. "He's involved with this just as much as we are and might have dealt with Gandalf before. He would know if we should trust him or not."

Lobelia sighed, she wanted to alert the bounders and have Gandalf tossed out but she knew Dora was right. The Old Took, Bilbo's grandfather, had dealt with Gandalf before, she remembered Gandalf's fireworks for one of his birthdays. If anyone could provide guidance, it would be him.

"Alright," Lobelia conceded. "We'll go see the Old Took." The journey to the Old Took's residence wasn't far, but it felt like miles with the weight of their worries pressing down on them. The Old Took, Gerontius Took, lived in a grand Smial at Great Smials, surrounded by lush gardens and bustling with activity.

The children knocked on the door, and Granny Adamanta quickly ushered them into the sitting room, where the Old Took was enjoying a pipe. He looked up as they entered, his sharp eyes assessing their expressions.

"Lobelia," he greeted warmly, though his eyes narrowed slightly at her agitation. "What brings you here? Did you get some news on Bilbo?"

Lobelia took a deep breath and explained the encounter with Gandalf, the wizard's cryptic words, and her frustration.

The Old Took listened carefully, his expression growing more serious with every word. When Lobelia finished, he leaned back and puffed on his pipe thoughtfully.

"We know why Gandalf is here, he needs a Hobbit for his Quest against the Dragon," he said finally. "It disturbs me greatly that he could not even tell you weren't Bilbo. You're right to be cautious, Lobelia. Gandalf is quite manipulative, but he also is a guardian of Middle Earth."

"What should we do?" Dudo asked, his voice tinged with worry.

The Old Took hummed around his pipe "Perhaps we could enlist the dwarves for their help. Lobelia you said Bilbo ran off with three dwarves did you not?" Lobelia nodded. "Well, it stands to reason that these dwarves that went with our Bilbo are somehow connected to this Quest Gandalf insists on. If we tell the Dwarves that a couple of their members went on ahead, well, they'll be racing to catch them." He said nodding his head in thought.

"But where does that leave Bilbo?" Drogo asked, hand clutching Prim's tightly for support.

"I'll go with them," Lobelia said in determination, everyone in the room turned to look at her.

"Auntie Lobelia no!" Prisca stated just as firmly, Lobelia shifted her hands on her hips and looked at her.

"The dwarves are heading to Erebor yes?" Everyone nodded. "Then they will have to stop at Rivendell for supplies, I'll catch up with Bilbo with the dwarves and head to Rivendell. Once there not only can we give the ring to the elves, who would know what to do with it. But we can also enlist for a escort back to the Shire. It fixes everything. The dwarves would get the support they need for their Quest, as Erebor would be the first step Evil would take for a stronghold. The ring would be taken care of by the wisest creatures in the world, and me and Bilbo would go home safe and sound."

Old Took puffed on his pipe for a minute as everyone digested that plan. Just as he was about to state his approval Dudo spoke up.

"Do it, Auntie Belia. Bring mum home." He stated firmly, his siblings nodding in agreement. All the occupants in the room started smiling and simultaneously reached out to connect with each other in a fierce hug.

Dwalin was eager to get to the house the company was meeting at. He hadn't seen his brother in a little over a year at this point but tonight he would, along with a meal. Dwalin wasn't sure why he had pushed himself as hard as he did to get here. Being punctual wasn't his thing, actually, it wasn't many dwarrows things, His brother being an exception. But this time, It felt like a pull, like something was waiting for him. Probably that meal he thought to himself as he marched along the twisting paths to reach the tallest hill, where Gandalf said they were meeting. As he came to the crest he saw it. A large green door, built into the side of the hill, marked with a glowing ruin. Dwalin marched up through the gate, and up to the door to give a sturdy knock. The door swung open.