Once again, I should mention that I do not own the Hobbit, nor the characters. Just this idea. Enjoy. Also, Bilbo's "illness" was dehydration and standing up too fast. Happens to me all the time. Bilbo just has good circulation and drinks a cup of tea almost hourly so the most she would get is dizzy, not the blackness. She doesn't have an actual illness I promise you.

It was late, the full moon hung high in the sky while crickets chirped their symphony into the warm night air. Normally, it was the kind of night that wrapped around Bilbo like a familiar lullaby, easing her to sleep with fond memories of magical nights, curled up safe in her parent's safety and warmth, imagining that the lightning bugs were stars come to earth to dance with her. But this night, this night ease escaped her, it escaped her long enough that she should be too tired to stay awake, and still Bilbo couldn't find sleep. Her mind was simply too occupied with racing to bother with sleep.

Never in her life would Bilbo think that the Sackville-Baggins would ever apologize, and yet they had. A little over a month had passed since Lotho's unexpected apology, and Bilbo found herself no closer to a conclusion about its sincerity. At first, she had naturally assumed that this was simply a play for Bag End and had dismissed him shortly. She had expected him to lose his temper, to snap and insult her as he would often do when faced with a situation that made him uncomfortable. But he didn't, he simply nodded his acceptance, tipped his hat at her, and left, without a word of complaint. It had stunned her. More than that, he came back the next day to apologize to her again! Bringing her apology flowers every day, begging her for a chance to learn to be better.

So here she was sitting in her cozy sitting room, the fire crackling softly in the hearth as she gazed at the flicking flames, lost in thought. The memory of the words of his first apology lingered in her mind, an irritating whisper that refused to fade.

He had stood there, hat in hand, with an expression that seemed almost... earnest. He had admitted to his shortcomings, confessed his failings, and promised to try and become someone worthier of the Baggins name. Bilbo had been so sure that it was a farce back then, that she didn't even take the time to analyze his words. But now, she feels taken aback by the sudden humility he showed that she's not sure how to respond.

So here she is, staring at the flames dancing in the hearth, her brow twisted in thought and indecision. Was Lotho truly trying to make amends, or was this some ploy cooked up by Lobelia? The Sackville-Bagginses weren't exactly known for their generosity or honesty, and their past dealings with her had always been tinged with schemes and thinly veiled contempt.

Still, there had been something in Lotho's voice that gave her pause—a slight tremor, perhaps, or a weariness she hadn't expected. It wasn't impossible that he could have changed. Hobbits weren't immune to self-reflection, after all, and even Lotho might have found some motivation to mend his ways.

And yet...

Bilbo sighed and brought her hand up to pinch the skin between her eyes. "I'd sooner believe a dragon would bake me a pie," she muttered, the skepticism creeping back into her thoughts. It wasn't like her to be so unsure, but the apology had shaken her usual certainty. If there was even a shred of truth to his words, did she owe him the chance to prove himself? Or was this just the latest in a long line of Sackville-Baggins ploys?

She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples, another headache forming at the base of her skull, sending sharp pains shooting down to her clenched jaw. It was becoming a frustratingly familiar sensation, these headaches. They had been more frequent lately, creeping in like unwelcome guests whenever she had a moment to think too deeply or stress too much.

Perhaps it was the strain of dealing with Lotho's unexpected apology, or maybe it was something more mundane—the changing weather, the lack of rest she had gotten for the past two weeks, or simply her own nerves fraying. Whatever the cause, the discomfort was starting to wear on her.

"Perhaps I should visit Dr. Tunnely, for these headaches," she murmured to herself, her tone more resigned than hopeful. "Then perhaps I can actually get the chance to make a decision about what to do with Lotho." With a shake of her head, she pushed the thought aside for now, resolving to deal with it later.

Deciding she was done worrying for the night Bilbo pushed herself to stand, only for a wave of dizziness to pass over her, a forceful, almost on the verge of pain, pressure forced itself to the front of her head until her vision faded to black. And for that brief instant, Bilbo was suspended in her own mind swaying on her feet and praying that she wouldn't pass out.

Gradually Bilbo came back to her senses, the pressure easing away from her mind and allowing her vision back with a slowness that felt like her body was waking up for her, despite her being perfectly aware. It was a strange sensation and it left Bilbo no less dizzy. Bonelessly Bilbo dropped back into her chair and waited for the feeling to pass.

"What in the Shire was that?" she muttered under her breath, her voice barely above a whisper. She'd had her fair share of dizzy spells before—who hadn't after standing up too quickly or skipping a meal—but this? She had never had her vision black out like that before.

Bilbo leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and letting the silence of the room envelop her. She couldn't help but nibble at her bottom lip in worry as she thought anxiously about what happened until she tasted blood. With a weary sigh, she made a mental note to visit Dr. Tunnely in the morning. For now, all she could do was rest and hope her body gave her no further surprises.

Gingerly, Bilbo stood to her feet, dropped her dishes in the sink, and headed to bed.