Where the Road Goes, a hobbit fanfic

Where the Road Goes

Prologue

In the sun-dappled meadow just beyond Hobbiton, where the grass grew thick and soft underfoot, two young hobbits were engaged in a lively game of hide-and-seek. The summer air was warm, carrying the scents of honeysuckle and clover, mingling with the earthy aroma of the sun-warmed grass. Above, the sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds that drifted lazily in the breeze, and the gentle hum of bees filled the spaces between their laughter, adding a harmonious note to the idyllic afternoon.

"Found you!" Bilbo exclaimed as he popped out from behind a flowering bush, his keen eyes catching sigh of Prisca's curly auburn hair just peeking above the tall grass. The leaves of the bush rustled as he stepped out, his small feet barely making a sound on the soft earth.

Prisca spun around, pretending to be startled, her wide, bright eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, you're getting too good at this, Bilbo Baggins! I'll have to find a better hiding spot next time," she teased, her voice light and full of playful challenge.

Bilbo grinned, his cheeks flushed from the chase, his curly brown hair slightly tousled. "Maybe you will, but I'll always find you, Prisca. I've got a nose for tracking, you know," he boasted.

Prisca giggled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "A nose for tracking and a head full of stories. What was the one you were telling me the other day? The one with elves and their magical forests?" she asked, her curiosity piqued as always by Bilbo's tales.

"Oh yes!" Bilbo's exclaimed he launched into his tale, his enthusiasm infectious. "They say the elves live in grand forests, with trees so tall that touch the sky. The leaves shimmer like silver in the moonlight, and the air is filled with the scent of blossoms that never fad. The light there is always soft, like early morning, and everything glows with an enchanted light, as if the stars themselves have come down to rest among the branches. They sing songs that can make the stars dance, and they have feasts that last for days, with music that makes your heart soar," he recounted.

Prisca's eyes widened with wonder, her imagination whisking her away to the magical forests Bilbo described. She could almost hear the distant melodies of the elves' songs, feel the cool shade of the ancient trees, and smell the sweet fragrance of the eternal blossoms. Yet, she couldn't resist a bit of playful teasing.

"Hmm, have you seen these elves, Bilbo Baggins? Perhaps you just imagined them?" she asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

Bilbo puffed out his chest. "You never know!"

Prisca laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. "I think you might be part elf yourself, with all these tales you come up with," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

They fell into a companionable silence, their playful banter giving way to a peaceful camaraderie as they wandered over to a nearby apple tree. The tree was old and sturdy, its gnarled branches heavy with ripe, red apples that glistened in the sunlight. Prisca, quick and nimble, scrambled up into the lower branches with ease, her feet finding the familiar holds in the bark as she reached out to pluck a ripe, red apple. The fruit was cool and smooth in her hand, the skin gleaming like polished rubies, She tossed it to Bilbo, who caught it with a smile. After shining the apple on his sleeve until it gleamed even brighter, he bit into it with relish, the sweet, tangy juice running down his chin.

"You know," Prisca said thoughtfully as she settled herself in the tree, her legs swinging gently back and forth like a pendulum, "I'd love to see those forests one day. Maybe we could go together-see the elves, the dwarves, and the mountains full of treasure," she mused.

Bilbo looked up at her, his face lit with excitement, his heart swelling at the thought of exploring the world beyond the Shire with his best friend. "I'd like that. We could go on a grand adventure, just the two of us! We'd have to be careful, of course. There are trolls, and goblins, and-"

Prisca cut him off with a laugh, her voice bright and carefree. "We'll need a lot more than apples to keep us safe! I'm sure we'd manage, somehow," she said, her confidence in their imagined abilities unshakable.

As the sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows across the meadow, the two young hobbits made their way down to the stream that wound its ways through the fields like a silver ribbon. The water was clear and cool, its surface shimmering with the last rays of sunlight as they skipped stones across the water. The stones, smooth and flat, danced across the water, leaving ripples in their wake that spread out in widening circles.

"That one barely skipped at all, Prisca," Bilbo teased as one of her stones sank with a plop after only a single bounce.

"Oh, you just wait!" Prisca shot back, her competitive spirit ignited. She found a perfectly flat stone, feeling its weight in her hand before sending it dancing across the surface of the stream. It skipped three time before vanishing beneath the ripples, a look of triumph flashing in her eyes.

"Well done!" Bilbo admitted with a grin, his eyes gleaming with determination. "I bet I can do four next time," he said, already scanning the ground for a stone.

After several tiring rounds that ended in an eventual draw, Prisca and Bilbo resigned to sit on the grassy bank of the stream, their feet dipping into the cool water as they lazily tossed pebbles, watching the ripples spread out in widening circles. The water was freshing against their skin, a welcome respite from the warmth of the day.

"You know," Prisca began, her voice thoughtful as she gazed at the distant horizon, "if we ever did leave the Shire, the first thing I'd want to see if a real mountain. They say the Misty Mountains are so high that you can touch the clouds at the top," she said, her eyes shining.

Bilbo leaned back on his elbows, staring up at the sky, his imagination already taking him to those distant peaks. "I've heard the dwarves live in the mountains, mining jewels and forging swords."

Prisca's eyes sparkled with excitement, though she couldn't resist a teasing remark. "What would we do then Bilbo Baggins? Ask them for a bag of gold and be on our way?" she asked.

Bilbo grinned, his imagination already running wild. "Not just any bag of gold-maybe a magic sword or a cloak that makes you invisible! We could meet a dragon and convince it to share its treasure with us!" he rambled, his voice growing more animated.

Prisca laughed. "Convince a dragon? Like one the tales spun by Galdalf the Grey? You'd better hope you've got a silver tongue, Bilbo, or we'll end up as its dinner instead!"

"Well, I'd have you with me, wouldn't I?" Bilbo countered with a playful smirk, his confidence boltstered by the thought of having Prisca by his side. "Besides, we'd be too quick for it-we'd be in and out before it even woke up!" he added, his voice full of bravado.

Prisca shook her head, still grinning as she imagined the two of them sneaking past a sleeping dragon. "Quick, are we? We can barely outrun old Farmer Maggot when we sneak into his garden for mushrooms!" she retorted, her laughter ringing out across the meadow.

"That's because his dogs are faster than any dragon's claws," Bilbo replied. "We'd be well-prepared for the dragon. We'd bring plenty of food, a good map, and-"

"A way to sneak back into the Shire without anyone knowing we were gone!" Prisca finished for him, her voice full of mischief as she pictured the puzzled faces of the other hobbits trying to figure out how they knew so much about the world beyond.

Bilbo nodded. "Exactly. We'd be the first hobbits to see the world and then come back with tales no one would believe." he said, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

"We could say we learned it from the peddlers who pass through."

Bilbo grinned, but this his expression grew thoughtful as he considered something deeper. "Maybe we'd write it all down," he suggested, his voice softening.

"A book about our adventures, so that other hobbits might one day get curious and go exploring too."

Prisca tilted her head, the idea taking root in her mind. She imagined them writting into a beautifully bound book, filled with stories of far-off lands, creatures of legend told by the eyes of two hobbits.

"I like that," she said, her voice filled with gentle enthusiasm. "We could be the first hobbits to write about the big, wide world. Maybe, one day, someone else would follow our footsteps."

Bilbo looked over at her, the playful light in his eyes replaced with something more tender. "We'd make a good team, wouldn't we?" His voice was quieter now, the question holding more weight than usual.

Prisca's heart gave a little flutter, but she masked it with her usual lightheartedness. "Of course, we would. As long as you remember to bring enough food, and I remember not to charm the wrong dragon!"

They both burst out laughing, the sound carrying across the meadow, mingling with the gentle rustle of the wind through the tall grass. The meadow, bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun, seemed to glow with a warm, honeyed light. The sky above was a canvas of amber and rose, the clouds tinged with soft purples as they drifted lazily overhead. As the sun dipped lower, the shadows stretched long and thin across the ground, and Bilbo and Prisca decided to start heading back.

"I really want to see the elves," Prisca said as they strolled along the path, her voice filled with a yearning that matched the distant horizon. The world beyond the Shire seemed so vast, so full of mystery, and the stories Bilbo told her earlier only fueled her longing.

"All your talk of them earlier has me wishing we can just leave right now and seek them out."

Bilbo's face lit up, his imagination already taking flight. "Oh, absolutely! Elves are supposed to be the wisest and fairest of all beings. Imagine the songs they'd sing and the stories they could tell! Songs that would make the stars dance and tales that would transport us to realms we've never dreamed of."

Prisca gave him a sidelong glance, her tone teasing but her smile warm. "You'd fit right in with them," she said, picturing Bilbo among the elegant and ethereal elves, his quick wit and love for stories making him one of their own.

Bilbo chuckled. "Maybe they'd even teach me a thing or two. Then I could come back to the Shire and be the best storyteller in all Hobbiton, like Gandalf."

Prisca grinned, giving him a playful nudge that sent him slightly off balance on the uneven path. "You already are, Bilbo. I suppose a little elf magic wouldn't hurt," she added with a wink that made Bilbo look away immediately, his face reddening.

They continued to banter as they walked, their conversation weaving in and out of dreams of faraway lands and fantastical creatures. The path ahead was bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun, the colors around them deepening into richer, warmer hues. The world beyond the Shire felt so distant, yet in their imaginations, it was just a step away.

As they rounded a bend in the path, the fireflies appeared, dotting the dusk with their soft glowing light. Tiny orbs of warm gold began to flicker in the growing twilight, dancing above the meadow like the remnants of a fading starry night. The air around them seemed to hum with the magic of the moment, as if the fireflies were weaving a spell over the landscape.

They were so engrossed in their talks that they didn't notice the approach of a familiar voice until it called out to them, breaking the serent quiet of the evening.

"Bilbo! It's time to come home!"

They turned to see Belladonna Baggins standing by the edge of the meadow, her figure framed by the soft glow of the fading light. Her arms and crossed, a gentle smile playing on her lips, her eyes sparkling at the sight of the two young hobbits.

"Coming, Mother!" Bilbo called back, turning to Prisca with a sheepish grin that only added to his boyish charm. "I guess it's time."

Prisca smiled, her heart fluttering just a little as she offered, "I'll walk home with you." The words were simple, but they carried a warmth that made the moment feel more significant than it seemed.

As Prisca and Bilbo walked side by side along the well-worn path back to Hobbiton, with Belladonna lingering behind them to watch her only child amusingly, the first stars began to twinkle in the evening sky. The golden hues of sunset were giving way to the deep blues and purples of twilight, and the world seemed to hold its breath, enveloped in the quiet stillness that comes only at the close of day. The tall grasses on either side of the path swayed gently in the cool breeze, their whispers filling the spaces between the children's soft conversation.

Suddenly, Prisca's eyes widened with delight, and she tugged at Bilbo's sleeve. "Look, Bilbo! Fireflies!"

In the dimming light, tiny specks of gold began to appear, flickering like the embers of a distant fire. The fireflies danced lazily above the meadow, their light winking in and out, as if they were teasing the night with their gentle glow.

Bilbo stopped in his tracks, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Aren't they marvelous?" he breathed, his voice tinged with are as his eyes following the erratic flight of one particularly bold firefly that zipped close to his nose before darting away.

Prisca laughed, her eyes bright with wonder. "It's like they're putting on a show just for us!" She reached out with one hand, moving slowly so as not to startle them, and watched as a firefly landed briefly on her finger. Its tiny body glowing with a warm, golden light that seemed to pulse gently in the twilight.

"They must know how special this night is," Bilbo said, his voice soft with reverence. "Maybe they're guiding us home."

Prisca smiled at the thought, her heart swelling with a quiet joy as she watched the firefly lift off her finger and rejoin its companions in the night air. They continued to walk, now more slowly, savoring the magic of the moment as the fireflies surrounded them in a glowing procession.

The path before them seemed to shimmer with light as the fireflies floated lazily around the heads, some settling on the flowers that lined the way, other swirling in delicate spirals above them. Prisca's auburn curls caught the soft glow of the fireflies, and for a moment, to Bilbo, she looked like a figure from one of Bilbo's stories, an elf maiden wandering through an enchanted forest.

Bilbo couldn't help but stare, his usual banter replaced by a quiet admiration. He had always seen Prisca as a good friend, someone to share adventures and dreams with, but tonight, with the fireflies dancing around them, she seemed to him like a part of the magic that filled the world beyond the Shire.

Prisca, catching his gaze, felt her cheeks warm and quickly turned her attention back to the fireflies. "Do you think they're telling us something?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light, though there was a hint of seriousness in her tone. "Like where the elves might be hiding?"

"Maybe," Bilbo mused, his eyes still following the flickering lights. "Maybe they're just enjoying the evening as much as we are."

The fireflies stayed with them, lightening their way until they reach the outskirts of Hobbiton, where the first cozy lights of hobbit-holes began to twinkle through the dusk. The meadow opened up to the familiar sight of the Green Dragon Inn, its warm, inviting glow spilling out into the night, promising comfort and rest after a long day of play and dreams to anyone willing to take up the offer.

As they stood there, watching the fireflies began to drift away into the night, Bilbo turned to Prisca with a soft smile, his voice gentle and sincere. "I'm glad we walked back together," he said, his voice almost a whisper, as if not to break the spell of the evening.

Prisca smiled back, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the fireflies' glow. "Me too, Bilbo. It was a perfect evening."

For a moment, they stood there in the quiet, the last of the fireflies flickering out of sight, leaving only the memory of their light dancing in the air.

"We'll see them one day," Prisca whispered, her voice filled with quiet determination as she looked up to the stars that had begun to peek out from the deepening twilight. "The elves, the dwarves, the dragons-we'll see them all Bilbo. I know it."

Bilbo looked at her, his heart swelling with hope. "Yes," he agreed softly, his voice barely more than a breath. "One day."

Then, with a final glance and a soft goodnight, they parted ways, each carrying a piece of the evening's magic with them.

Belladonna watched Prisca go, a glint of amusement in her eyes as she turned to her son.

"Prisca's a sweet girl, isn't she?" Belladonna said, her tone light and teasing, but there was a warmth in her voice that spoke of deeper understanding. She saw the hints but decided against speaking about it.

Bilbo's face turned red as the apple he held earlier. his thoughts swirling in a way that was both exhilarating and confusing. "I-I suppose she is," he stammered, looking down at his feet, his mind still lingering on the fireflies and the warmth of Prisca's smile.

Belladonna chuckled softly, ruffling his hair with a mother's gentle affection. "Don't be embarrassed, Bilbo. You make a lovely pair of adventurers. Perhaps one day, you'll go to those journeys you dream of together."

Bilbo mumbled something unintelligible, still blushing furiously, his thoughts too scattered to form a proper response.

As Bilbo and Belladonna walked the rest of the way home, the gentle night air filled with the distant chirping of crickets, Belladonna couldn't resist teasing her son more about the night's enchantment. Despite his embarrassment, Bilbo's thoughts were already wandering back to the fireflies, to Prisca, and to their adventures that still lay ahead.

The night sky above them was now a blanket of stars. As they reached the doorstep of Bad End, Bilbo paused for a moment, looking back out into the night, his heart filled with the magic that still lingered in the air before he headed in.

Author's Note: I was bored not too ago and binged the Hobbit trilogy (extended edition of course) and Prisca came back after some dears encouraged it. It's been 12 years since I created her, but here I am finally writing this. Thank you always to my dears for never failing to encourage me to just write something...anything...everything.

Prisca's faceclaim is Eleanor Tomlinson and it completely slipped my mind when I decided on her pairing that it's basically Poldark all over again.

Thank you to the beautiful sounds of Enya for the title inspiration.

Reviews are appreciated, but thank you for clicking on this story! I appreciate anything and everything :)