AN:So, this is the new Bagginshield I talked about in my profile. :D I'm pretty excited about this one. I will be alternating updates with A Most Unusual Specimen and this story, though this one's chapters will remain between 3,000-4,000 words a chapter.

This story features a Bad Ass Bilbo with a somewhat tragic past, a stubborn and prideful Thorin, and a whole host of amusing dwarves. :D Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not claim any of the characters or places, nor do I make any profit from writing this. All rights go to JRR Tolkien or the Tolkien Estates. I'm simply writing this to improve my skill and out of love for the characters.

Chapter One

"Oh, goodness gracious! What on earth has happened here?" Radagast dithered about the uprooted tree nervously, his eyes darting over the surrounding forest. Birds chirped and twiddled about overhead and around, playing in the late afternoon sun and swooping down to peck at the unearthed city of insects below the tree. The wizard gave a few lilting chirps, and a thrush lighted over to land on his open palm.

"What was that, you say? Mountain trolls from the north?!"

The bird chirped in response before taking flight once more, leaving the fidgeting wizard to worry.

"Goodness me, that's not good at all! Where on this good earth would they have-but then, they must have come from the Ettenmoors! But how—and—"

"Radagast!"

The wizard turned to see a familiar figure sifting soundlessly through the trees and plant life, his curly golden head flickering brightly in the shining sunlight filtering through the leaves. Behind him trailed a long line of rabbits, all hopping about curiously and tied to Radagast's sled.

"Bilbo, my lad! Come quick, come quick! Nasty business, we've stumbled upon." Radagast gestured the young hobbit over to him, one hand nervously clutching his staff, the other motioning the birds away. "Here now, give him some room. He couldn't possible see over all your twittering about! That's a good little one," He cooed to a baby bird, which sang sweetly at his praise.

"What's this?" Bilbo asked, looking over the scene with a shrewd eye. Upturned tree, large and deep footprints on the ground. Not clawed or feline, but rather in the shape of a large being's foot. "Are these mountain troll tracks, Radagast?"

"Yes, my dear boy, yes! Or so Eugene tells me." He motioned with a yellowed grin to the thrush sitting nearby on a tree branch. "Mountain trolls! And with the growing sickness of the Greenwood, too, this could mean a very bad thing. Very bad things, my lad."

"But it's in the late afternoon; the sun's not long from setting," Bilbo said, looking confused. "Mountain trolls cannot travel in daylight, yes?" At Radagast's hasty nod, Bilbo hummed thoughtfully. "Then they must have caused this little upheaval last night."

He walked around the outskirts of the clearing, taking in all angles of the tree and ground. His skintight armor, crafted cunningly from leather and leaf combined, had camouflage ability that would make it the envy of the Woodland realm should they ever see it. Of course, Radagast thought ruefully, that is if Bilbo allowed himself to be seen. When Bilbo put his mind to it, he could blend in so seamlessly into the background of a place, Radagast doubted if even the keen eyes of the great elven kings could catch sight of him. He'd been that way ever since he'd stumbled into the Greenwood so long ago, when Radagast had first met him as a young lad.

"Radagast?"

The wizard startled out of his thoughts. "So sorry, Bilbo. What did you say?"

"I was wondering, weren't there some settlements around here? Farmers, I mean. Men." Bilbo's lip turned up at that, but his eyes belied his concern.

"Oh, yes, a while ago. It's been too long since we patrolled this part of the forest. But I was so concerned with the growing darkness on the northern border and around…around Dol Guldur." He shivered at that, whispering the name as though it were taboo.

Bilbo looked up at him with his brow furrowed. "Do you think this could have anything to do with the spiders?"

"No, no. Well, I don't believe they're working together or some such thing, but they might have come from…from the same darkness." The wizard frowned. "I'll need to get in touch with Gandalf soon. Though how I'll manage that, I do not know. He's always traveling and in all manner of places, too."

Bilbo straightened from where he'd been examining the footprint. "Perhaps we should make camp nearby and check on the farmers in the morning? I'll keep an eye out for any sounds during the night. Maybe do an area check before you head to rest."

"You say that as if you'll be the only one on the night watch tonight."

"I will be the only one on the night watch tonight," Bilbo snorted as he gave his mentor a stern look. "You've been up for days without any rest in between; or did you think I did not notice your nightly mutterings to Sebastian and Marseille?"

Radagast looked chagrined at that. He'd thought Bilbo had been awake on at least two of those occasions, and Marseille had thought so as well, but Sebastian had assured him that the hobbit had been asleep! "Blasted hedgehog! He's never been the best at reading people. He always forgets to tickle the nose to test if someone's asleep or not."

"In his defense, this is the sixth time he's failed to notice, so it's a wonder you keep taking his side over Marseille." Bilbo chuckled as he reached the rabbit sled. "Now that's a sharp hedgehog. If I were not worried about her safety, I'd take her with me on some of my smaller adventures. She'd make a good partner."

Radagast gave one last cursory look over the scene before joining him and taking hold of the steering bar. "Well, if she weren't so uppity about everything, maybe I would! I can't carve a few mushrooms for dinner sometimes without her criticizing my technique."

Bilbo gave a bark of laughter before sliding into the front section of the sled and slipping down to rest his back against the frame of the sled. "Well, perhaps if you'd take her advice upon occasion, she wouldn't need to be so 'uppity.' I can sympathize with her. I've been telling you for ages about the proper cutting technique of mushrooms in order to make them the perfect accompaniment to—"

"Oh, not this again! The mushroom lecture, goodness gracious." Radagast harrumphed and called for the rabbits to speed away, ignoring Bilbo's soft laughter with all the dignity a wizard covered in bird poo and grime could muster.

They made a wide circle around the area near the upturned tree sight before settling down a ways away from where Radagast believed the farmers' settlement was located. Their camp was very small and inconspicuous, as they'd both agreed to go without a fire that night to avoid detection. They ate a small meal of salted pork and a berry fruit salad, before getting into their familiar positions for camping on patrol: Radagast molded into the small trenches at the bottom of a tree, Bilbo perched up high at an optimum vantage point on the same tree.

Night had settled for a bit when Bilbo heard odd noises coming from the east of their settlement. He sat up on the branch and closed his eyes, focusing intently on the sounds. Clashing of iron and stone. Shouts, yells, battle cries. Guttural growls. Could be the trolls. But who were they fighting? The farmers?

Either way, it was his duty to check it out, Bilbo thought as he slid silently and effortlessly down the tree. He shot a quick look to a sleeping Radagast, whose clothes and appearance were already so dirty that he blended in perfectly and safely with the tree, before slinking through the forest underbrush and making his way toward the distant commotion.

After a few minutes of silent travel, Bilbo could see the light of a large campfire and could hear a growling conversation up ahead. He crept closer until he had reached the outer rim of the clearing and spread the protective greenery with deft fingers.

Three lumbering mountain trolls, with tough skin, bulging muscles, and thick, ugly faces, stood around a roaring fire. Positioned over said fire was a turning spit, upon which seemed to be…dwarves?

Bilbo gave a miniscule snort of laughter when he listened to their caterwauling and complaints. Of course dwarves would be caught up by the mountain trolls. They probably charged into the clearing expecting to give them a heroic and sound thrashing that they could spin a merry tale about in a pub later.

Needing a better vantage point, Bilbo slid backward from the clearing and quickly scaled a nearby tree that afforded him a good view and enough darkness to be invisible. Now that he could see the whole clearing, the hobbit saw that there were quite a few captured dwarves trapped in sacks near a fenced in area filled with horses. With this knowledge, Bilbo realized that the trolls had probably stolen horses from this band of traveling dwarves, which had then followed said trolls back to their camp. A troll carrying two horses could have easily been clumsy enough to uproot an entire tree.

Well, they're all still rather lively, Bilbo thought wryly, so they likely haven't been captive for long. At any rate, it would be better to finish this business sooner rather than later. He certainly didn't want Radagast charging into a fight with three mountain trolls to save a bunch of foolhardy dwarves. Goodness only knows how often the wizard gets involved in rash and dangerous adventures.

"Why do we have to wait to eat'em, Bert? Nothing wrong with a bit of raw dwarf, yeah?" One of the trolls cackled, smacking his lips greedily. He reached forward with a fat hand to prod at a dwarf, who yelped indignantly.

"How dare ye lay yer filthy mitts on me, ye orc-sucking—" shouted the bald dwarf, though he was forced to end his insult when a few embers burst from the fire and got caught in his beard.

"Hands off, Tom!" growled 'Bert,' who grabbed the other swiftly by the nose and knocked him backward.

'Tom' fell with a hard thump onto the ground and reached a hand back to rub his bottom, looking a bit hurt. "I just wanted to check if they's was nearly done cooking! I'm so hungry!"

"Would you shut it already?" the third troll growled. Out of the three of them, he looked the most dangerous. "You think you're the only one who's ready to eat? Last thing any of us had was that skinny ol' farmer, and you were the one who ate more than his fair share!"

Bilbo sat back a bit on his tree branch and had a sinking realization. 'Bert' and 'Tom' had been two of the names used by the trolls who had inhabited the Trollshaws, or the area just above the Great East Road, nearly reaching into the Woodland realm, and known to be very dangerous to inattentive travelers. Along with their other brother William, these three trolls were guilty of a myriad of brutal deaths in the area, their victims usually local farmers and passing travelers.

With a sinking feeling, Bilbo realized that he and Radagast would probably not need to make a trip to the nearby farming settlement. They were probably long dead by now.

Well, Bilbo thought with grim determination, these trolls will not be taking any more victims. Their reign of terror in these parts would end. Tonight.

Balancing skillfully upon the thick branch, Bilbo reached one hand into the ring of pouches along his waist and the other into the long pocket lining his spine. Deftly, he withdrew Sightless, the small black pipe, nearly the length of his forearm, that had become his most treasured possession and his best weapon. In his other hand, he carefully withdrew six very small and thin stones, similar in shape to seeds.

Judging by the large body mass and thickness of skin, Bilbo would need a very quick shot and very lethal poison to take down these mountain trolls. Years of hard experience with his faithful Sightless had taught him to relocate his region of aim in the event of thick-skinned foes. He would have to aim for the facial organs: eyes, ears, mouth. And he would need potent poison to end this quickly, lest the trolls do anything drastic. He would have to use the Belladonna paste, then.

In another carefully lined pocket on his waist, there hung a small waterproof pouch that held the Belladonna paste. He placed the mouth end of Sightless between his lips while his hands worked swiftly to dip one of the stones tip into the dark colored paste. It was his own blend: a concoction of Belladonna that emphasized its lethal components and allowed for easily applicability to his weapons.

Once the stone's point was suitably covered, he removed his mouth from the lip of the pipe and placed the stone there, holding the rounded end of the stone between his teeth. It was a very tricky process, one that he had perfected after so many years of training and studying herbal lore. He had built up a significant immunity to most poisons, but even a little bit of Belladonna would have horrid effects. It wouldn't kill him, but he'd be very, very miserable for a few days.

With Sightless in place, now Bilbo simply needed to wait for the perfect opportunity.

Back in the clearing, the trolls seemed to be growing impatient with their slow roast. Bert, the 'cook' of the trio, was searching the nearby bushes for spices and herbs, while the other two held the turning spit and watched the cooking dwarves with hungry leers.

"Can't we have a bit of a nibble? Just to tide us over until the rest is done?" Tom, the whiner, asked in his high reedy voice. "Just an arm or a foot. Juicy and crunchy!"

"If we do that, ol' Bert'll be whinin' until dawn tomorrow of how we ruined his dinner. Besides, look how red that one's lookin'. He'll be done soon, I reckon." The brutish one replied, poking at a dwarf with braided grey hair and beard. He did indeed look uncomfortably red in the face.

Bilbo's eyes darted curiously to the dwarves in the sacks, most of which were still hurling out the occasional insult to the uncaring trolls and squirming about on the ground. The hobbit wondered at them not having any concealed knives upon them for situations just such as this one; those bags looked a bit worn and easily sliced through. He'd have to have a talk with these dwarves afterwards about emergency weapons, good gracious.

Renewed rustling in the clearing turned Bilbo's attention back on the trolls. Bert had returned with a clump of weeds clutched in his hand, none of which were sage. He caught sight of Tom poking at the red-faced dwarf, and his face twisted with anger. He opened his mouth to bellow at his fellow troll, and Bilbo saw his chance.

Quicker than an elven arrow, Bilbo shot the little stone right into the open mouth of the troll. As Bert sputtered and choked, he quickly coated another stone and placed it within the pipe, ready for another. He watched the other trolls intently his free hand already palming another stone.

Bert the cooking troll choked and coughed around the stone lodged in his throat, falling onto his hands and knees in agony. The sharp stone must have punctured his throat, as Bilbo could already see the poison taking effect.

"Oi, Bert! Cough it up already, won't you?" the crude troll William shouted exasperatedly. He stomped over to his fallen troll and thumped him on the back a few times.

Bert collapsed onto the ground, his limbs giving small last shivers before becoming still entirely.

The clearing was completely silent.

The dwarves, both bagged and slowly roasting, looked on with wide eyes and open mouths as one of their captors suddenly dropped dead. Out of the corner of his eye, Bilbo noticed one of the bagged dwarves, with a dark and slightly greyed beard, straighten up against the cliff face. Many, after recovering from the shock, turned to look at the dwarf, as if for guidance. Bilbo supposed he must be the leader of the group. Well, he's clearly not the most tactical mind, if he's led his group into capture, Bilbo thought derisively. And by such dim-witted captors, too. Good gracious….

"What did ye do to him, aye?" Tom cried out in a panic, his screech reaching painful heights.

"I didn't do nothing to him, you hear! He just choked and kicked it!" William bellowed defensively, using one large foot to turn over Bert's dead body. "Look, see? His face is all purple and red! He clearly choked! It ain't my fault!"

But Tom either did not believe him or was a supreme coward as he slowly began backing away from the other troll. Seeing this, William stepped forward, brandishing his crude knife.

"And where d'you think you're going?" he growled, taking a step closer and yanking the other troll in by his raised arm. "You'll stay where I—"

But in the scuffle, the whining troll Tom had let out a particularly loud yelp, and Bilbo had taken his chance. Much the same way that his fellow had gone, Tom began to choke and grasp at his throat, his thick face turning red. William hastily let go of the other troll, and after a few moments, Tom lay still.

William stared at his dead fellows dumbfounded for a moment before his eyes turned outward, into the dark forest, with suspicion and violence. His ugly face twisted with rage, and he stomped around the clearing, getting dangerously close to stepping on the captive dwarves. He threw his arms, thick as tree trunks but hard as stone, and shouted into the night, "Where are you? I know you're out there! Come out so I can—"

Bilbo took the last shot, landing another stone with perfect aim into the troll's open mouth.

William too began to choke and cough, but he seemed to be smarter, or at least crueler, than his dead partners. He began to pull himself toward the dwarves held captive on the ground, as if to make one last kill before he left this earth.

Bilbo had another stone in his pipe before the dwarves could even shout in alarm and move away from the murderous troll. This shot landed in the troll's eye, causing him to scream and writhe in pain. Two doses of Belladonna, however, were too potent and quick to leave him suffering for long, and after a long moment, he too died next to his troll partners.

Once again, the clearing was plunged into silence, before one dwarf hesitantly broke it.

"By my beard and my mother's…what just happened?" called one of the dwarves on the spit, who appeared to have a rather robust mustache.

"I don't know, but tell me someone has a knife or somethin'. And get yer foot out of my back!" shouted the bald-haired dwarf, who began to strain against his ropes.

"I should have one in my boots, if I could only reach in this damned sack," A blonde haired dwarf said with a grimace as he wriggled furiously on the ground.

"Nobody move," ordered the dark-haired dwarf with the grey streaks in his hair. The others immediately stilled at his command. "Those trolls were not killed by any natural cause."

Well, this is an herbal poison, so I could argue that they were, Bilbo thought with a small smirk. He slid down the tree and landed noiselessly onto the soft earth, taking a small moment more to survey the clearing. The company of dwarves was very alert now, looking warily into the surrounding bushes and trees. The dark-haired leader seemed to glare mutinously out into the shadows, as if daring any assailant to attack them now. Perhaps his pride was a bit sore, having been outwitted by trolls after all. Well, it should be, at least.

Bilbo wondered whether or not he should release the dwarves now or wait until Radagast had joined him. He knew he had been gone from his own camp for a significant amount of time, which meant his mentor was most likely already on the move and searching for him. He didn't see ay reason to wait; the wizard would be here soon, and these were dwarves. Dwarves he had just saved and from trolls, no less.

"Who's out there?" called out the leader, his voice deep and commanding. "Come forward, if you will. I would like to meet our savior." He sounded welcoming and grateful enough, but Bilbo was no hobbitling to be fooled by pretty words. The look in the dwarf's eyes was cold and wary, defensive. He could also see movement under the roped bag, as though he were reaching for a hidden weapon.

Bilbo gave a sharp bark of laughter, sending a ripple through all the dwarves. They swiveled in their spots to stare at the source of that laugh, and it would surely not be polite of Bilbo to laugh at them where they could not see him. He stepped out into the clearing, Sightless tucked safely away in its case along his back, and gave a few clucks of admonishment.

"You probably thought I was an elf, didn't you?" he looked at them all with open amusement. "Dwarves and their prejudices, goodness me. But I don't reckon you have much right to complain, given your position."

The leader's glare sharpened enough that it could cut through stone, but he refrained from saying anything, choosing instead to watch him with distrustful and wary eyes.

Bilbo gave another small chuckle as he kicked a wave of dirt over the fire, smothering the small flames and embers there. "I do hope there is a good story behind this, because being outsmarted by trolls? Well, that's pretty embarrassing."

AN: Comment, if it pleases ya! :D