Come on, little one. open your pretty eyes for me.

The sun shined harshly into the small beings eyes, interrupting his dreams.

Bungo, look! our little bilbo has opened his eyes! And what a pretty green they are, little bilbo.

A boot caught in his empty stomach, forcing his tired eyes to open.

"Get out of here, beggar. Try to stay off the streets today." The guardsman told him.

"Is it the spring festival already?" his voice was quiet and hoarse, but slightly hopeful. There would be many people buying food today.

The only answer he received was a hand yanking him by the hair, shoving him into an alleyway.

oh, sweet Bilbo. Run for me baby, don't stop. Don't stop until you reach dale, baby, your papa and I will meet you there. Don't stop Bilbo! Run!

Bilbo hit the wet cobblestone hard, pushing the wind out of him. He laid there, for a moment. If he died there, would they notice? Would they care? Would he reach a better place in the end?

Promise me you'll run baby, run and don't stop!

He was tired of running. Maybe he could rest a here a while, just take a few minutes to breathe.

Don't stop!

The voice in his head shouted with the same note of desperation that it always did, in his dreams or otherwise. But yet again Bilbo found himself pushing out of the gutter, pulling his red blanket tighter around his shoulders. Slowly, shakily, he limped out of the alley, silently entering the crowds around the market entrance. There was music, and laughter. The sun lit up the children's faces, making them shine with youth and life. It brought a smile to the small thief's gaunt face. Bilbo had always dreamed of having a small fauntling of his own.

You are my light, baby, my little Bilbo. Listen to the land, Bilbo, how it whispers to you?

In a few hours he manages to snatch a loaf of bread, which he ate greedily. Stumbling back to the alley that he had been before, he sunk down to the dry spot in the corner of the two buildings. The happy music and laughter drifted to his ears, and he closed his tired eyes.

I love you Bilbo, don't you forget. Mommy loves you, and not a dragon or a whole kingdom could keep us apart. I will always be here, in your heart.

Its time to rest now. He needed to let go. There was nothing for him now, and he missed his mother.

Footsteps echoed off of the walls of the dank passage and Bilbo heard the squeak of leather and clinking chain mail. A warm smell, of pines and fresh air and wilderness surrounded him.

Slowly, his eyes opened, greens flickering to meet concerned blue. A dwarf dressed in precious metals and royal blues kneeled before him, his hand outstretched. A crown sat atop a nest of wavy black tresses, a sign of royalty.

"hello little one." Bilbo flinched. Such a high status dwarf should never talk to his sort of scum. But He couldn't help but stare into those depthless sapphires and feel safe.

"It's dirty and wet here." the dwarfs statement was met with a nod, and a humorless chuckle.

"so it is." Bilbo cautiously peeled away from the wall, ever alert and watchful. The dwarf just continued to smile comfortingly, his eyes shining.

"If you ever need, the gates of Erabor are open to you. I would make sure everyone in the kingdom would care for you as if you were royalty." The dwarf stated softly, his eyes searching Bilbo's own. Bilbo couldn't really respond to that. This dwarf, one of rich clothing and high social graces wanted him- wanted to take care of him. He was a stranger, but he spoke to bilbo with such respect and care that the hobbit could only stare.

The dwarf sat with him for a few minutes, but soon it was clear he had to leave. A single large, calloused hand placed a beautifully carved emerald rune in his hand, before straightening and walking away.

Bilbo, I love your father very much. Yvanna made us together, and only together can we be truly happy. You will find your other half, just like I found mine, Someday.

The memory came unbidden, of a small fauntling sitting on his mothers knee as she told him the secrets of the world. It was the strength he needed. The hobbit stumbled to his feet, dashing to the dwarf who's eyes were like the sea and his voice so much more so, and he slipped his hand into the larger one beside him. When the dwarf directed his shocked gaze toward the little being, Bilbo only offered a small smile.

But deep inside, as he stood before the huge gates to the dwarven kingdom of Erabor, his dwarf at his side, he finally felt like he was coming home.