aniw awkirus taykarus jachayañati, jan kunaniw tukusiri

Do not mourn parents, one tends to become very poor

Bilbo's father, old Bungo Baggins, had a saying: "Janiw warawarax jakhuñati, walja wawanïñiriwa, siwa" which in Westron roughly translates to 'Do not count the stars, otherwise you will have too many children '

He was a wise sort, a bit overwhelmed by his Took wife and half Took son but still he found the time to quietly muse over the state of Arda as it was and the future of its inhabitants.

It was a good saying, but unheard of outside the Shire's green lands. For most of the big folk were completely unaware that Hobbits even had their own language. What good would it be, anyway, if no one else could understand it?

It was a bit presumptuous of them, Bilbo considered, just because you don't know something exists doesn't mean it doesn't exist at all.

Gandalf The Grey was the only outsider than gave the Shire's culture any sort of respect; he'd endeavored to pick up a few choice words and phrases of Hill Speak (as it was called) but understood that it was a special, secret thing, that families shared in their homes, chattered by their fires and sang to their children.

Bilbo had only spoken Hill Speak until the age of six, wherein all faultlings by the decree of the Thrain should begin to be taught the common tongue. His mother, Belladonna, had schooled him. She was a good teacher, firm but fair, and knew not to push her son too hard for he was still very young.

Sometimes, quite at random, she would test him.

"Bilba" She would say, and point to something, maybe a tree or a bird. "What is that?"

'Bilba' dear reader and our friend Bilbo, were in fact one in the same, but the latter was the hobbit's formal name if you will, that in which he used to introduce himself to passing strangers; non-hobbits. And it was the name that the grey Wizard used to address him.

"Flower" Panqara

"Knife." Khariña

"Butterfly" Pilpintu

So it was that Bilbo learned how the big folk talked, but he was first and foremost a Hobbit, and honoured those long dead Baggins' by keeping the old words alive. The Old Took would be pleased. The Hill Speak pulsated within him, hummed in his ears and he spun the vowels like gold from his lips.

"Satana wakisi..." He would whisper as the season's changed, and his parent's passing no longer pained him so, but rather faded to a dull longing, and he was lonely sometimes.

Then the Wizard brought 13 dwarves to his door.

"I think I am owed an explanation Gandalf!" Bilbo rightly demanded, as he found that he was suddenly quite overrun with more guests than Bag end could hold. They'd already drank his cider, eaten his food, and trod mud into the carpet with their boots.

And one of the younger ones had ruined his mother's glory box.

But out of them all, the last one to arrive, a dark haired fellow with smouldering blue eyes, was the rudest.

"I thought you said this place would be easy to find." The dwarf grumbled, as he shook off his cloak. "I lost my way, twice." he took in his surroundings, much the same how you would look over a rats nest.

Bilbo frowned, Bag end was on a straight road, how do you get lost on a straight road?

"I asked an old Halfling for directions but I couldn't understand his accent." He added quietly to Gandalf, ignoring Bilbo's presence.

The hobbit seethed. He probably couldn't understand yours either, you pompous oaf.

The dwarf then seemed to be aware that Bilbo was glaring at him, and, with folded arms he looked down at the smaller creature with curiosity but outright snobbery. "So, this is the hobbit."

A few awkward moments past where the dwarf circled Bilbo like a vulture and asked the most ridiculous questions, for what purpose the hobbit had no clue. The blue eyed stranger than called him a 'grocer' (a strange insult indeed) then flounced off to join his kin.

After a rather awful song had been sung at his expense, which was off key and not at all like the Shire folk songs, and after his mother's best dishes had been thrown around, Bilbo lost his temper and pulled the old wizard aside.

He was fuming.

"My dear Bilbo, it's not as bad as all that." reassured Gandalf.

"Not that –you have brought dwarves into my home Gandalf! Nana ukaru! And why?!"

"Chuyma apiri, Bilbo Baggins, these dwarves of which you speak are in need of your help. Which I know you will give generously, because you are a fine fellow."

Gandalf took a puff of his pipe and looked at the hobbit from under his giant hat. Bilbo did not like that look, so he crossed his arms defensively. "Very well." said the hobbit, still irritated.

"I'll hear what they have to say." Said Bilbo patiently "but I fail to see what a bunch of dwarves could want with a Gentle-hobbit like me."

Gandlf chuckled. "I assure you, my dear Bilbo, you are preciously what they are looking for."

It transpired that the dwarves, 'heirs of the house of Durin' as they called themselves and their leader Thorin Oakensheild, were burdened with glorious purpose.

Erabor, the great mountain kingdom, had been taken by a Smaug, truly a creature of nightmares, a dragon and a brute to boot. He had forced Thorin's people to flee, turning them into nomads, vagrants, doomed to wander Arda until it was safe to return. The King himself had toiled in hardship just to keep his family fed and well.

How did Bilbo come into all this?

Well, they also happened to need someone sneaky, a burglar they said, to go into the Dragon's lair and steal back a most prized treasure; what that was exactly was apparently on a need-to-know basis, the dwarves would fill the hobbit in with more details later.

Then there was the longest contract Bilbo had ever seen. He sighed and began to read, the parchment fell down to his furry ankles.

"Incineration?" He gulped.

"Think of a furnace with wings." said one member of the company, Bofur by name, about the monster they wanted to just walk up to and steal from.

Then there was something else about burning flesh but by that time Bilbo had passed out and couldn't remember the rest. Fainting was a hobbit defense mechanism, albeit a not very useful one.

When he awoke, Gandalf was looking slightly guilty, while the dwarves looked confused and Thorin just looked disappointed. Bilbo shivered, quite chilled by the misplaced King's frosty gaze.

He had gone to bed with much to think about, and hoped he didn't have any nightmares about dragons. He didn't, but could not sleep soundly.

Despite the noise, and the mess, and the staring at his feet, Bilbo felt… exhilarated, exited.

The dwarves laughter was contagious, and the whole place had been filled with it. Kusisiña.

In an odd, Tookish part of his mind, Bilbo wondered what the Thorin's laughter would sound like, would it be loud like his thunderous voice? Or maybe a low chuckle in the back of his throat?

That, was among many, many other reasons was why the hobbit signed that fatal contract and ran as fast as his legs could carry him, hurdling over fences and through the big field until he caught up with the company; now his company.

He handed the white haired dwarf, Balin, the contract and he smiled. "Give him a pony." Said Thorin gruffly, and sure enough Bilbo was hoisted upwards and dropped roughly on the only spare beast despite his complaints.

"Ah! " The hobbit squeaked at his was man handled, and mumbled a Hill Speak cures when he landed on his ponies back. She tossed her head, not very happy with the situation herself. "

Gandalf gently nudged his pony forward so that he could trot alongside Bilbo, the hobbit looked at him with questioning eyes.

"I am glad you are here after all, my dear friend" Smiled the old wizard. Bilbo gave an out of breath chuckle. "awt'ajaki ullinaqaña..." he sighed, softly so the others couldn't hear.

"Jisa ullinaqata, little fellow." Gandalf said gently, still smiling. "The day has only just started, but I dare say you've not seen all the surprises it has to offer.

The hobbit didn't reply, but looked only ahead, through the winding woods and far, far away, maybe trying to see what lay in store for he and his new companions.

Alas, he was not able to predict the future, he had to plod along and wait, for whatever fate had planned would come around in good time.

Jakhasaki arusiña

Talking softly

2 weeks had passed since Bilbo Baggins had run out of his door.

He was wet, he was cold, and he was quite miserable.

Apparently this was all because he was a hobbit, a soft, spoiled little creature that had no understanding of the wilds and should really stop moaning about every little thing.

No.Thought Bilbo. It's because it's been raining for three days straight.

In hindsight, he should have checked for Jallurijawa before abandoning Beg End and maybe then he would have seen the clouds and brought his cloak. But alas.

You can only imagine what affect the unexpected downpour had on the Company's morale, especially since it was so soon into their journey.

"Maybe it's a sign." Mumbled Oin, huddling deeper into his hood "Mahal save me, what is this weather?"

Bilbo had no hood to huddle into, and his jacket and waistcoat provided were soaked through and probably not giving him any sort of protection from the elements at this point. He sniffled, and grumbled, but was ignored.

Dori asked Gandalf if there was anything to be done about the rain, but Gandalf informed his that his powers didn't extend to weather control.

Bofur, the chap who'd made him faint with his horrid depiction of Smaug, seemed to take pity on him (not that the hobbit wanted it, mind you) and offered Bilbo his coat.

It was a small kindness, but the gesture was so genuine in its meaning that Bilbo felt warmed by it. He thanked the dwarf, was declined to take it, for he didn't want another to suffer because he'd lacked the foresight to pack the right clothes.

Bofur shrugged good-naturedly. "Suit yourself, laddie."

The hobbit watched as the cheery toy maker trotted off to chat with his brother and cousin.

Bilbo wasn't quickly making friends among his travelling companions so it was best he saviour any good will towards him.

Be it spawned from sympathy, or actual attempts at friendship.

The only other members of the group who regularly interacted with him without looks of distrust or exasperation were Fili and Kili; who were the youngest of the Durin sons.

Not that they wanted to be friends, they just wanted someone to pick on, someone to play jokes on.

Best to shrug it off. Bilbo considered. They'll get bored soon.

"Mister Boggins! Mister Boggins!" laughed Kili, appearing from nowhere with his brother as was their want, and crowding right into Bilbo's personal space.

"It's Mister Baggins, Kili." Fili chastised, and then grinned at the hobbit. "What are you up to today, may I ask, Mister Baggins?"

"Anything fun?" added Kili, with a mischievous edge.

The hobbit kept his expression neutral, and only made a noise in the negative as a response.

"Aww, that's a shame." Fili sighed with exaggerated sadness.

"Yeah! You're normally such fun to be around!" Kili sniggered, slapping Bilbo on the back, making him jolt a little.

Don't you pests have anything better to do?It didn't help that they also happened to be Thorin's nephews; the king already thought Bilbo was a useless lump. Bilbo wasn't going to anger the dwarf further by bashing his kin's heads together.

Then, for no reason at all, Myrtle (as Bilbo had named her) took fright and whined and kicked in apparent distress. Bilbo could only grip the reigns helplessly and try to soothe her.

Suddenly he saw a white flashing tail and a pair of whiskers disappear into the nearby brush.

"Wanq'u!" he cried before he could help it, and then let out a bark of laughter and patted Myrtle's neck. "Silly girl." And they said he was highly strung.

Fili and Kili's own ponies only nickered softly and Myrtle's display (apparently in disapproval) and the brothers themselves wore expressions of bemusement.

"What does that mean?" asked Kili, referring to the strange word Bilbo had used.

Bilbo blanched.

He hadn't meant to use Hill Speak, Yanqha!

It had been a reflex, but he must be more disciplined. You're not in the Shire now Bilba, he scolded himself internally, Hill Speak is to stay at home! and not to be spoken with such carelessness! And not in such company, these dwarves are not your family. They're not even hobbits. They won't understand.

Kili and Fili were still staring at him intently with eager eyes, waiting for a translation. Well, Bilbo was not going to give one.

"Nothing." The hobbit said curtly, and then let his irritation with the lads slip. "Why don't you go and bother someone else for a change? Tatty bye, you two."

He gave Myrtle a slight nudge in the ribs to move forward and away from the brothers. He didn't look back, otherwise he might have seen Fili and Kili's looks of confusion and hurt.

It just so happened that he ended up next to Balin, who nodded politely. "Master Baggins."

"Master Balin."

The white haired dwarf chortled, but it was not malicious. "Balin, lad, just Balin."

Bilbo blinked at him, unsure, then let himself smile for the first time in days. "Then you must call me Bilbo."

In a moment of bravery he offered Balin his hand, to his relief the dwarf took it and grasped it with a firm but not overly tight grip. "Bilbo." He said simply with a twinkle in his old eyes.

The hobbit felt his cheer begin to return to him despite the continuing rain, and chatted freely with Balin as they marched forward. He was, as Bilbo expected, the oldest of the group by a good few years. He was a cultured fellow he liked to read, and played fiddle as a youngling but now his hands were riddled with arthritis, so he could not make the notes like he used to.

One thing he couldn't believe was that this gentle, studious dwarf was the older brother of Dwalin. They were total opposites.

But what surprised Bilbo the most was that Balin actually thanked the hobbit for his hospitality a fortnight past, and said that the others would come around. Eventually. Maybe.

Dwarves just preferred to stay with their own kind, and Bilbo couldn't pretend he didn't understand what that meant.

He already missed the Shire more than he should. The hobbit could hear the sweet, honey voice of his mother in his ear, calling him back for supper.

No. It's too early for homesickness.He told himself.

The old dwarf looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Fili and Kili. "Hmm, those two are whispering, I don't like it, can only mean trouble."

"When are they not trouble?" Bilbo dead-panned.

Balin gave him a pat on the arm. "Pay them no mind young one, they don't mean any real harm, they're just being silly boys."

What about Thorin? And Dwalin? And the rest? Bilbo asked himself grimly. I may have made a mistake…

The merry tune of a thrush cut through his dark inner mantra and the hobbit looked up in pleasant surprise.

Winustiyas Chiwaqu, Kamisaraki?

This time he remained quiet, but oh, dear reader, how he wanted so much to greet that dear little bird. It seemed to be calling to him:

Q'uchuña, jumamp nampi Q'uchuña,

But it flew away as quickly as it had come.

But its song lingered in Bilbo's head, and he was reminded of a tune from his childhood and he began to hum it.

From the front, with his black mane flying, Thorin turned and gave Bilbo a narrow eyed look. The hobbit swallowed.

"Try to hum a bit quieter Halfling" Rumbled the King, mouth twitching as if he was amused or quite possibly annoyed at something. "We don't want an Orc pack upon us."

"Orc pack?" Spluttered the hobbit; almost falling of Myrtle in a faint.

Around him, a few dwarves laughed, and Bilbo shrank into himself and was afraid to make even the slightest noise, in case Thorin wasn't joking.

TRANSLATIONS:

Satana wakisi – Time is sowing

Nana ukaru! - In my home!

Chuyma apiri – kindness steals hearts, being nice steals hearts

Kusisiña. - Happiness

awt'ajaki ullinaqaña – Looks like I am

Jisa ullinaqata – Yes, you are

Jallurijawa – the signs of rain

Yanqha! - damn! (don't hold me to this one)

Wanq'u! - Rabbit!

Winustiyas Chiwaqu, Kamisaraki? - Good day thrush bird, how are you?

Q'uchuña, jumamp nampi Q'uchuña – Sing, you and me sing

AN: hi guys ^^ for those of you who have crossed over from my other account I just wanted to say thanks for sticking with me and this story, and hello to any new readers!

I'm sure you noticed some changes, the biggest one would be that I've changed the language used for Hill Speak. Don't get me wrong, I was thrilled that so many of you spoke Spanish and could understand what Bilbo was saying, but for me personally I feel it works better if the language is unfamiliar. I'm now using Aymara, which is a native language of the Andes. Apologies to any one who speaks it for any mistakes that I make.