To say that their journey so far had become a trifle difficult of late would have been to say that the storm outside had left them a tad damp. The company was still struggling to process the giant battle that had almost crushed half their number, and now they had fallen down into darkness, in another twist of fate that stole their breath away and rendered them speechless.

Thankfully they still had each other, and the lot of them were quickly shepherded into the dubious presence of the almighty goblin king. Most of the dwarves had wrinkled up their faces in obvious disgust for their surroundings, but little Bilbo was gawking in rather horrified fascination. His head turned every which way to take in the immense chamber, his sensitive ears ringing with the noise of their goblin captors.

When the goblin leader raised his hands up for silence the effect was immediate, the clamor dying down to bearable levels before tapering off altogether. It would have been a frightening moment, had the fresh quiet not been pierced by a most unexpected sound. A happy gurgling, emanating from the pile of messy furs at the base of the ramshackle throne only a couple feet away. The company could only stare in stupefied amazement when a tiny, grey-skinned child crawled out from the protective folds of its makeshift bed, the creature regarding them with innocent wonder.

The wildling, or baby goblin if you like, took an immediate interest in poor master Baggins, shooting over to him at a rather impressive speed and eagerly examining his large feet. At first Bilbo was frozen in terror, that is until the little fellow laughed with delight, stroking the hair on his toes with all the gentleness that the adults of his kind tended to lack. Something melted inside him then, a fond memory of hobbit children filling his subconscious as he reached down and plucked the little thing off the floor.

"Hello there little one," he cooed, grinning when he was rewarded with a tap on the nose and a toothless smile.

"Bilbo, put that down!" Thorin scolded him harshly, staring at the child with unconcealed distaste.

Bilbo pouted, a delicate frown marring his normally cheerful disposition. "Oh Thorin, he's just a little baby," he protested softly. "A cutesie, little, happy baby," he added in a sing-song voice as he bounced the giggling creature.

Thorin growled in annoyance, his outrage matched by the general goblin population as one of their few children was being coddled by the enemy. Bilbo seemed to notice this hostility at last, gulping nervously and moving to place the child on the ground when Gandalf intervened in his typical timely fashion. Everyone was bowled over, left blinking in surprise before they scrambled to their feet and began to fight. The group rushed to protect Bilbo, who was still cradling his now screaming charge. He had tried to relieve himself of his burden, but the little one was having none of that. It had tight hold of the hobbit, one chubby hand fisted in his hair, the other around the top button of his waistcoat. Any time he tried to disentangle it the baby screamed all the louder, so at last he shrugged and began to run, reasoning he could set it free outside and the parents would retrieve it.

After a blur of running, fighting, and still more running, they made it out into the daylight. Bilbo was now far behind the main group, having fallen while trying to protect the child from harm. He somehow caught up to them, giving no mention to the shiny new trinket in his possession that had effected his escape. Breathing heavily, he sat down on a log, his charge now calmly blinking up at him.

"Bilbo, what are you still doing with that thing?" Thorin growled, pinching his nose in frustration as he fought for patience.

"He is not a thing, Thorin Oakenshield!" Bilbo snapped, holding the squirming child close. "He's a baby, and you leave him alone, you big bully!" His voice was fierce as any mothers and Gandalf smirked when Thorin backed off hurriedly, the dwarf knowing a lost cause when he saw one.

Thorin threw up his hands in disgust. "Fine, but he's under your charge!" He then proceeded to carefully ignore the hobbit, venting his anger on anyone who would listen, and even those who tried to subtly escape his mounting wrath.

"What will you call him?" Gandalf asked, sidling up to the hobbit to gaze down at the companies unexpected addition.

Bilbo jumped a little, staring at the wizard for a moment before understanding dawned. "Hmm, suppose he does need a name. Well, he's a goblin that much is clear, so how about Gorbo." The little one chirped happily at the sound of the name, garnering a chuckle from the wizard.

"Gorbo Baggins it is," Gandalf huffed mirthfully.

Author's note: I had the strangest dream last night, and this was the result, so hopefully it isn't too stupid, haha. I am thinking of perhaps adding another chapter or two on the reactions of other people in middle earth when they come across Bilbo's charge. Let me know what you all thought of my mindless drabble!