DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters presented in this story, save for my OC; Isla (pronounced eye-la)

Chapter 1: A Kiss on the Yellow Door

Isla Brandybuck had made up her mind, and she'd decided that she was going to run away.

Well, the term "run away" may be a bit extreme for her intention, but either way, Isla was leaving.

For as long as she could remember, Isla knew there wasn't much in the Shire that could kindle any form of spark within her, and it was only until now that things fell into place for her to finally be able to leave. Despite the special place it holds in her heart, Isla knew she needed more than the quaint little world that was the Shire. Even if only for a short time. Besides, Isla's desire to leave home certainly wasn't anything new.

As a child, Isla would sneak away into the night. Dashing through the grass and tumbling over fences, she ventured away from home just to get a taste of any adventure she could glean into her life. She loved to wander the forests, hike the little hills, ford the gentle rivers, all beneath the light of the guiding moon.

Every time she left, she made sure to press a kiss to the yellow paint of the door of her home, as if she wouldn't see it again for a long while. It was a small gesture of what she believed would bring good luck on her perilous little journeys. Each night she traveled farther and farther away, always with her favourite cousin, Bilbo Baggins, running at her side.

Any adult privy to their midnight escapades would see but two small and mischievous children, but to Isla and Bilbo, they were the heroes in stories most wouldn't consider them old enough to hear. Stories of darkness and danger, telling of lands and people that sounded so extraordinary they almost didn't seem real.

Isla and Bilbo lived for these stories, and would talk late into the night of all they would do once they were big enough to leave the Shire. Even as children they were ever eager to seek out their own wondrous tales. They learned not to share this information with anyone else, however, when parents and relatives scoffed in the face of what they considered "foolish fantasies". But Isla and Bilbo could not be deterred, and they continued with their journeys towards the border of the Shire, the moonlight highlighting paths only they seemed to see.

One night, they had even made it out past Hobbiton and continued down towards Bywater. Ever a reckless child, Isla fancied they would have reached the very edge of the Shire on another night had not her parents- Gorbadoc Brandybuck and Marabella Took- caught her half-hanging out her bedroom window the following evening. When she confessed to what she had been doing most nights, they promptly banned her adventures and set measures in place to prevent her from sneaking out again. It solved to them the mystery of why she would be so tired on some mornings, and helped to set their worries to rest. They weren't terribly upset with her, but still wanted to keep her safe. Isla knew this but couldn't help being upset nonetheless. She was a storm for weeks. Of course, she loved them both deeply, but they could be a little protective at times, despite the dauntless families the two had come from.

To spare him from trouble, Isla had the good sense not to mention Bilbo in her confession, but without a partner in crime, he too eventually ceased in venturing out into the moonlight. But still, the two held fast to their dreams of adventures. For a little while, at least. Time passed and Isla and Bilbo grew older, and eventually grew apart. Gone were the days spent running off to the woods in search of Elves, or of trailing mud and twigs and fireflies home after dark. Bilbo settled nicely into Bag End, and Isla worked to hide away childhood dreams to pursue being a more respectable hobbit. Bilbo had an easier time doing it than she did, it seemed. Even into her older years, she often had a difficult time "behaving", and she gained a bit of a reputation amongst her peers and neighbours.

Youth passed into adulthood, and while Isla was happy with her life, she knew she wasn't satisfied with it. She still held an incessant need for something else, despite how many years had passed or how hard she tried to push away the feeling. It was an itch that longed to be scratched, and Isla would be damned if she ignored it any longer.

So, with determination boiling in her brain, Isla planned her departure. As she was not yet wed, she still lived with her parents in their cozy Hobbit-hole, and she didn't fancy telling them what she was up to. They would most certainly try to stop her and she would prefer leaving without any complications she might face from her parents. With that in mind, Isla concluded that she would simply have to sneak away during the night and leave behind a note to explain herself. She knew they wouldn't be happy to find her gone the next morning, but she wasn't planning on being gone too long. She only wished to travel about as far as Bree, see a slice of the world outside the Shire, and then head back home. It would take just under two weeks, and she would be back before they knew it.

It wasn't much of an adventure, but it was something out of the ordinary and it would be enough for her. Though some might argue this point, Isla had actually grown wiser with age. Deep down she knew she wasn't fit for the dangers she had dreamt about as a child, no matter how much she wished she was. No, a small trip to Bree would do just fine, and it would prove to herself, as well as those at home, that she could venture out past all she knew.

It took a few days for her to plan everything once she made up her mind. Isla wanted to make sure it was planned carefully and spent a little while studying a map to make sure she got everything right. It would take her a few days to walk to Bree, and she would spend a few nights at the Prancing Pony once she got there. The road to Bree wasn't a treacherous one, and she was confident she would be safe on her journey, even if she was alone. Once she had her fill of the place, she would simply walk her way back to the Shire.

The hardest part was figuring what to pack. Isla had never had to pack for something like this before, so it made things interesting when she was left to decide what would be needed and what would not. In the end, she settled on a few changes of clothes, a light but sturdy traveling cloak, food and water for the walk, the map, and the money she had earned working at the Green Dragon. She had been saving it for something of this sort and hoped it would be enough.

At the last minute, Isla also decided it may be necessary for her to carry something to defend herself with. She doubted she would really need it, but would rather have something should she cross paths with anything unsavory. With that thought weighing somewhat heavily on her mind, she puzzled over what she might be comfortable using. Isla had little experience with knives outside of the kitchen, and would more than likely hurt herself trying to use one against something other than vegetables. No, she would prefer something that would put distance between her and danger.

A thought struck her mind, and she reached under her bed to retrieve the old chest that lay there. Rifling through colourful drawings and books and other odds and ends of her childhood, Isla gave a small noise of triumph when her fingers closed around the handle of her old slingshot.

Isla smiled widely at the sight of her childhood trinket. It had been a favourite gift from a favourite grandfather on the Took side of her family, and as a child, it had accompanied her every time she left the house. She used it often when she was younger and was proud to say she had been quite skilled with it. It had been a tad bit big for her then, but it seemed to be a better size for her now. She hoped she still retained at least some of her skill, but somehow she doubted it. She hadn't used the thing in years. Still, Isla was very grateful to have it and slid it carefully inside her pack. She would carry it with her tomorrow but for now, she didn't want to set it down somewhere and forget about it. A bit more rifling through the chest rewarded her with a leather, drawstring bag full of small stones- perfect for shooting. She deposited that inside her bag as well.

With everything all packed and ready to go, she sat at her desk and penned down a quick letter for her parents. It wasn't anything too long; plain and straight to the point. Isla simply explained what her plans were, why she was doing it, and begged them not to worry about her. It was but a small expedition, and she would be home in a mere two weeks. She also made sure to write how much she loved them; Isla hoped that would be enough to soften the blow.

Finishing the letter and sliding it into an envelope, she felt a small curl of guilt settle in her stomach. She loved her parents, she truly did, and she supposed it may be a little heartless to simply up and leave them like this. Of course they would worry no matter how much her letter asked them not to. Isla paused for a moment, and she couldn't help but ask herself; was this the right thing to do? She dwelt on that thought for a little before clearing her head of it. She had said it herself: she would only be gone a short time. They would worry, but she would return home and everything would be fine.

Isla stood and left for the sitting room to say goodnight (and goodbye) to her beloved parents. They wouldn't be retiring to bed for a little while, but she wanted to catch a quick nap before she left and needed to make sure she spoke to them first. She had written a letter, but also wanted to say goodbye in person, even if she wasn't actually telling them she was leaving. So, trying to keep her expression neutral, she went to her father in his armchair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as best she could from his sitting position.

"Goodnight, Papa," she said. He seemed a bit taken aback for a moment, but returned the hug anyway.

"A little early, isn't it? You don't normally go to bed for another while," he asked, his brow furrowed slightly.

"Are you feeling alright?" her mother asked from across her father.

"Yes, I'm just a little more tired than usual. I was up earlier this morning, is all." It wasn't a lie; she had been searching for her father's old traveling bag and bedroll, which she found tucked away towards the back of a storage room.

"Alright then. Goodnight, my girl." His round and red face smiled up at her as she straightened, and she moved to her mother next to embrace her as well.

"Goodnight, Mama." Her mother's curls tickled her nose and her eyes twinkled in the firelight when Isla pulled away, the same amber colour as her own. She said nothing but smiled at Isla the way only a mother can.

Isla left the sitting room and shut her bedroom door behind her. Again, guilt rose within her, but it failed to overshadow her excitement for the coming journey. They would be alright, and in the end, she would be alright as well. After all these years, Isla was finally going to be traveling out of the Shire, and she was going to see the outside world, even if only a small piece of it. She settled into bed for a light sleep to rest up before the journey.

About three or so hours later, and with anticipation buzzing in her veins, Isla rose and changed her nightclothes for attire more fit for traveling. These consisted of an old shirt and vest left behind by an older brother, and a pair of trousers she had nicked from her father. Isla didn't have her mother's skill with needle and thread, but she had been able to alter the clothing just enough to be a little more fitting. Everything was still a little baggy, but it would be much better than hiking the countryside in her long skirts. Even on her nighttime quests, she had worn trousers, and Isla felt a little thrill at wearing the more constricting fabric around her legs once again. After making sure everything was in her bag, she carried it across the room to the little circle in the wall.

Her parents had long since removed the hardware that prevented her window from opening, and she swung it open with ease. Carefully lifting her pack through and out the window, it fell to the ground outside louder than she had meant it to. Isla desperately hoped it hadn't woken her parents, and when she heard no noise within the smial, she released the breath she'd been holding.

Her torso went through next, and she found it wasn't quite as easy to squeeze through as it had been when she was young. Adulthood had filled her out more, especially in the hips, and she was worried she wouldn't fit at all. She managed after a few moments, however, and landed in a heap beside her bag. Not one of the most graceful maneuvers she had accomplished in life, but she was out nonetheless.

Springing to her feet, Isla reached in her bag and yanked out her cloak before fastening it under her chin. Her heart pounded in her chest as she pulled the bag onto her shoulders and the hood over her head, hiding the riot of brown curls beneath it. There may still be people up and about and she wanted to make sure no one recognized her.

Isla padded silently to the gate but paused when she laid her hand on it. She had almost forgotten! Turning back around, she dashed to the door and placed a quick kiss against the slightly chipped but ever-vibrant yellow wood. As she pulled away, she had the strangest feeling that this time she really wouldn't see it for a long while, much longer than the two weeks she had planned for. She gazed intently at her hand against the door for a little while before she forced herself to shrug and pull it away. It was probably just because she was actually leaving this time, and her mind was making it into a bigger deal than it really was.

Isla stepped through the gate and glanced back at the smial one last time before she closed the lock behind her. Setting off down the path, a tear slipped unbidden from her eye and she was suddenly taken aback. Immediately she felt angry at herself. What was the matter with her? Isla's feet pounded against the path with more vigor as she fought against her emotions. This was nothing to get upset about; she wouldn't be gone long. Not at all…and yet, even as she told herself this, that same strange feeling settled over her again, and somehow it didn't seem true anymore. Why did she feel like this?

Before she could continue this train thought, she passed by the gate of Bag End. Isla had to do a double-take at what she could see through the windows. Bilbo's home seemed filled to bursting. Isla squinted at the windows and perceived what appeared to be a crowd of rather burly men and- by the Valar- were they singing? From what she could make out of the words, it had something to do with dishes and forks and other household and kitchen items. It was quite the ruckus, or quite the party. Depended on how you looked at it.

Isla hadn't a clue what was going on inside, but she knew her cousin couldn't be too happy about it, especially with how late into the night it was. She laughed a bit, but also couldn't help but feel sorry for the state poor Bilbo must be in at the moment. Just what in Middle Earth was Bilbo doing with his free time? Suppressing the urge investigate further, she hiked her bag higher up onto her shoulder and set off once again, casting curious glances behind as she went.

When Isla had first conjured up her plan, she would be lying if she said she hadn't considered asking Bilbo if he might be interested in joining her just as he had when they were children. She had never followed through with it, though. Bilbo wasn't as rambunctious as he had been as a child, and she knew he would surely decline. He was far too settled and comfortable in his home and Isla didn't blame him for it.

Returning her focus to her surroundings, Isla realized with a jolt there was someone coming towards her down the path, though she couldn't make out exactly who it was. She made sure to pull her hood more securely onto her head just in case it was someone she knew. As the distance lessened, however, she realized she didn't know this person at all. In fact, she had never seen him or anyone like him in the Shire in all her life. Just as the men inside Bilbo's smial, he was built heavily, and his beard was a shock compared to the clean-shaven faces Isla was accustomed to. He was also taller than any Hobbit, though he did not tower over the way the Big Folk would- or as her uncles had described.

He must be a Dwarf, Isla settled with a start. If that were the case, Isla surmised that the other men inside Bilbo's home must also be Dwarves, though for the life of her she couldn't figure out why they were here. What on earth were so many Dwarves doing in the Shire, and why were they all congregating at Bilbo's house, of all places? Isla couldn't be sure, but this Dwarf seemed to be headed in the direction of her cousin's smial. If that were the case, just what sort of mess had Bilbo gotten himself into?

The mysterious Dwarf drew near, and Isla quickly ducked her head to hide her face. She wasn't worried about him recognizing her- it was obvious they did not know each other- but she was wary of him nonetheless. He seemed to radiate something powerful that she did not understand, and to top things off, he did not appear to be in the best of moods. She thought it best to avoid contact. However, as they crossed paths, she could not help but risk a small peek at his face, and found with another little jolt that he was looking down at as well. Their eyes met for a brief moment before the Dwarf broke the contact. He did not stop, and neither did she, and both parties continued on their way, each puzzling over the other.

When Isla had walked a little way down the path, she turned to see if her suspicions were correct. Sure enough, the Dwarf stopped at Bilbo's gate and, after a quick assessment of her cousin's house, he let himself through and up to the door. He was let in after only a moment.

If Isla had wanted to stop at Bag End before, that was nothing compared to the curiosity that coursed through her now. Several times she considered turning back to see what in Middle Earth was happening, but she forced herself to move forward. She had a long way to go, and she wanted to cover as much ground tonight as she could. Besides, who knows how a company of fearsome dwarves would react to a random someone showing up at the door in the middle of the night. No, it was best to stay out of it and mind her own business. Isla wanted to be at East Farthing Woods by sun up, anyway.

Isla walked for a long while, enjoying the gentle sights and the way they changed the further away she got from home. She traded the little hills and rolling plains for forests, when she reached the final hill that would take Hobbiton completely out of her sight, light just began peaking over the horizon. She cast the area one more fond look and set off down the hill. Isla sneezed suddenly, and she searched her pockets before she realized, but it was already too late to turn back.

"Drat. I've forgotten my handkerchief."

And there is chapter one finished! :D

Just a quick note on how this story is going to go, it will be a mix between the book and the movies, though I'm not sure which of the two it will rely more heavily on. I also don't know when the next chapter will be out as my next few days are going to be pretty packed, but I promise I'll try my darndest.

Hope you all enjoyed! Thanks for reading :)