A/N: This has been posted on AO3 for ages - or at least the first seven chapters, because that's all I've got written, but I thought I would share it here as well.

Now, when Bilbo had said that he was quite ready for another adventure, this was not at all what he had meant. He had not asked to wake up in his house at Bag End a few months before dwarves from Erebor came to reclaim their homeland. Despite the many times he had wished that he could change everything that had happened, with the dragon and with the Arkenstone... and with Thorin and the boys, in no way had he asked to be allowed to relive it all.

"Oh bother and confusticate those dwarves." He muttered to himself as he stocked up on their favourite foods, and even headed over to Bree to see if he could find a dagger. That was when he noticed Gandalf and Thorin over at the other side of the Prancing Pony. There were mercenaries watching them, and Bilbo almost sighed with relief when Gandalf sat next to Thorin, scaring them off. He listened in to the conversation.

"Thrain... urged... take back Erebor. Say the same to you..."

"Vagabond..."

"I imagine they regretted that."

"Black speech... promise of payment. Your head."

Ah, Azog, then.

"King's Jewel..."

And oh dear, if that didn't make Bilbo's ears wiggle with fear. How he hated that stone. Almost as much as he hated the Ring for what it had done -wait- for what it had yet to do to his nephew. He could change that - he could take the ring and spare Frodo all that pain. It took all Bilbo had not to shout out in joy.

"Oh, thank you, Miriel." He murmured as she brought his dinner to him along with a half-pint of ale. He ate it gratefully - he was trying to wean off his seven meals a day in preparation for the adventure. He grinned to himself. This time he was going to be prepared. But what he hadn't prepared for, was a wizard plopping down right next to him.

"Bilbo! I thought I recognized your voice. Do you remember me?"

"Go away you meddling old wizard. It's not midsummer so you can't be around for the fireworks. I don't want to hear it."

"Oh, but my dear Bilbo, think of how much fun an adventure could be?"

"Hmm. Fun. That's odd. That fellow there doesn't seem particularly fun. He seems awfully serious, if you ask me. And with good reason, looks like." He said with a surreptitious glance at those who had been following Thorin.

"Indeed. But this might be the perfect time, since you're here - why are you here, anyway, dear Bilbo?" The hobbit shrugged, knocking back his ale.

"Oh, no reason in particular, I just thought I might get out of the Shire for a while. It's home, and it's very dear to me, of course, but there's so much more to the world than just Hobbiton, than just my mother's fine china and doilies." He said with a grin.

"There's more of that Took blood in you than I would have warranted, Bilbo." Gandalf looked over him with a thoughtful eye. Bilbo shrugged.

"Well, as long as you don't tell your dwarf friend the theory about that, that can keep being a good thing."

"Who is to say whether or not legends are true?"

"Hmm. There's some story or another of hobbits once living somewhere between the Greenwood and the Lonely Mountain, too, in times long forgotten. Any truth to that one?"

"Why, I am but a simple wizard-" But Thorin had chosen that moment to drop into their conversation.

"Indeed? I had not heard that, Master Hobbit-"

"Baggins, actually. Bilbo Baggins, at your service." He made a little bow, and he couldn't help the way his mouth twitched slightly as he lowered his head. Thorin did not seem to notice.

"Do you know any other legends of the lonely mountain?"

"Oh, not a lot, no. Hobbits don't generally go very far from home - unless prompted by meddling wizards." He shot a pointed look at Gandalf. "And those who go, if they come back at all, they're never the same." The wizard looked positively scandalised.

"Bilbo! If this is about the time with your mother and the cave troll, I assure you, the damage was only temporary. She was back to herself in no time."

"She never ate stew again. Couldn't even look at it without throwing up." Well, not for a good long while afterwards, at any rate.

"You exaggerate, my dear fellow." Bilbo shook his head and sighed.

"Oh, and like you don't make it sound like my great great uncle Bullroarer Took invented gold when he clubbed off the head of a goblin king? But no matter. Are... are you sure those men won't come back?" He whispered to Thorin, who nodded, eyeing the hobbit appraisingly.

"You could tell?"

"They weren't being subtle. Look at this place - it's not where those sorts of folks can hide in plain sight." He shuddered. Thorin frowned at him.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just..." Something glittered in his eye, and Bilbo might almost call it recognition. But no. That couldn't be... oh well, he'd just have to check.

"Looking for a grocer or a burglar?"At Thorin's frown, he held back a sigh of bitter disappointment. Never mind. If this Thorin didn't know the old him, then so much the better. He could make a much better impression this time around. But for now, the king-under-the-mountain-to-be was looking at him suspiciously.

"Okay, so I admit I was listening in to a little of your conversation. All I really caught was that you were looking for a burglar and that someone was after your head." Thorin nodded.

"And would you?" Gandalf asked. Bilbo squinted at him, hoping to look at least a little confused.

"Would I what?"

"Consider being a burglar, on a quest?"

"Burglar doesn't sound very hon- I mean, respectable. For all that I'm a Took, my father was a Baggins, so I'm a Baggins too, you know. Have to be respectable."

"Ah, but you'd be burgling from a dragon."

"Dear me. A dragon, well. That sounds awfully dangerous" He was trying to sound frightened, but he didn't think he convinced either of them.

"You want to go on this quest, don't you?"

"I've wanted to go on a quest since I was a fauntling looking for elves in the Westfarthing woods, Gandalf. If you'd waited much longer, I might have become a proper Baggins, and you'd have to drag me out the door by my pointy ears." The wizard gave a good hearty chuckle at that. The dwarf just glared at the mention of elves.

"Oh, lighten up, you sour-puss. People are trying to kill you, and you're asking me to steal from a dragon - and well, there's only one dragon that could be, since you were so curious about what I knew of the Lonely Mountain... of Erebor. Okay, I was going to say it's not all doom and gloom, but I suppose it is. Oh dear. I don't think I'm looking forward to meeting Smaug."

"You will come, then?" The dwarf king asked, concern and suspicion and awe warring in his expression. Bilbo nodded.

"Aye, I think I will. If you want, you can spend the night in one of my guest rooms - not likely anyone would follow us to the Shire, and before they did, the Rangers would deal with them. Safer than here though... I really wouldn't want to lead anyone or... anything that might be following you to my home. I didn't think this through. I mean, you would probably be fine here, but I meant to - sorry. I let my train of thought get away from me there."

"Do you often invite people whose names you do not know into your home for the night?" Thorin asked, a teasing edge to his voice. Bilbo rolled his eyes, he was too old for this nonsense.

"None. And I'll not be starting tonight. Now, Gandalf mentioned a Thrain, I remember that being the name of King Thror's son, was it not? Who d- ah, went missing... and you said something about a King's Jewel... I wonder - could you be his son, Thorin?" And he couldn't quite help his satisfied smirk at the shock on the dwarf king's face. He wasn't playing fair, but like hell he was going to be seen as useless this time around.