"And then, if you forgive me…. would you dance again with me?"

With her little hands she hold onto the back of her mother's skirt, hiding her whole being from sight, gathering just a little bit of courage to steal a glance of the one standing in front of both of them. Bilbo found herself unable of looking away once, and with only half of her little face on sight, her eyes landed on the certainly perfect face of the man kneeling in front of her mother so to talk to her face to face- But it was not a man, was him? Men didn't have pointy ears like hobbits, her mother had said so. No, he was not a man, nor he was a hobbit. He was someone with pale skin, someone with long and beautiful blond hair, someone with blue eyes.

Her mother had told her about people like them, almost every time during her bed time stories, she could remember that even when she couldn't remember a name- She had talked about bravery and beauty, about intelligence and a 'forever', a word the child couldn't quite place next to a definition. Nothing that really meant something to Bilbo, besides the fact of being different from home, different from her cousins and different from her aunts, different from her bedroom, her father's armchair and her mother's garden. Different from herself, she supposed. And now she could see it, see him, and somehow make him see her. The –man, hobbit, dwarf?-stopped midsentence, looking down at her with a blank expression, not blinking or nodding, not even moving, the leaves and branches that were almost encircling his head bright with color against his golden hair.

Bilbo thought that he looked sad. Or at least, that he looked rather lonely.

She didn't like it, not in the slightest. Was it because of her? Was it because he was looking at her? No, it couldn't be, he had been really happy looking at her mother, what would it be different? She didn't like it, so she reaffirmed her grip on her mother's skirt, who chuckled slightly. The sad looking blond glanced up at Belladonna, a half smile-half frown on his face, and turned back to look at Bilbo just after a second, showing something that managed to caught the child's attention. He was a little bit less lonely, and a little bit less sad, so he wasn't as scary anymore. He extended a hand to her, softly, slowly, like he was afraid to.

And maybe he was, thought Bilbo, and maybe that was why he was looking at her like that. Grownups don't cry in front of children, she had learnt, but he looked like he was about to do so.

Bilbo didn't like that either.

So she took his hand, and tried to smile.

Fortunately, he smiled back.

Bilbo Baggins didn't know where on when she learned how to use a bow.

But she did know she was abnormally good at it.

And what made it an abnormal fact was not how she could pierce the centre of an apple when bringing them down because of being too lazy to just climb the tree, which was not a lady-like way to solve things either, mind you, or how neatly and quite easily she could shot an arrow through the very centre of the target behind her house and the very centre of the previous arrows that were already there.

No, what made it abnormal was how she seemed to be the only one in a mile away who knew how to even use a bow.

She knew hobbits weren't found of weapons and quite rarely were seen with their hands on even a simple dagger for hunting –Unless she was talking about the Brandybucks, but still, no bows involved-, but she was a hobbit as well, wasn't she? If hobbits weren't born for it, why was she able to use a bow so easily? Okay, granted, maybe she was not your everyday hobbit, apparently taking after her mother and therefore the Tooks just a little bit too much, but ever since her father died, years after her mother, Bilbo had tried her hardest to act like any other lady hobbit should act, or at least like a Mistress of Bag End, the Head of a hobbit Clan, should act. It was not hard, because she was already found of comfort and a good books by the fire and sitting on her father's old armchair, but it was harder to stay completely away from the things that made her just a little bit too different –Climbing trees, using a bow, not agreeing to marry- so, at the end of the day, she found herself doing just that a few times a month when nobody could see her.

Or more like just when Lobelia Sackville Baggins couldn't see her.

Except that last thing, to marry, because she refused to spend the rest of her life doing even less than half of what she liked to do with a male by her side, no matter how hard Lobelia tried to engage Bilbo to her godson. There was just no way. And Bilbo was more than lucky to be liked by the Took's Head, her grandfather and the Thain, who was quick to back her up when she needed it. But yes, all in all even if Lobelia was annoying and she tried to avoid her as much as possible, Bilbo knew that dreadful woman was a little bit right- It was not normal. She was not normal. Bilbo knew that just alright, but it was not like she could do anything to change herself. She had tried; it had been a lost cause.

End of the story.

Or maybe not quite so, because that was where all the questions started.

"Another bull's eye…" The hobbit stared at the target placed against a tree, hand still midair, mouth pressed into a thin line. The arrow she had just shot had landed just a few inches besides the arrow that was already embedded on the smooth surface. With that, it was a total of five bull's eye in just one target; the other three targets, on three different trees, were in the same condition.

It didn't make sense.

So much that it was starting to get ridiculous.

"Maybe it's a thing of blood" Bilbo muttered, closing her garden's door behind her, placing her bow and arrows against the wall just at her right. These items were to remain there when not used, which was most part of the month, hidden from any praying eye –Ahem, Lobelia, ahem- so her attempts of go as a normal lady hobbit were not completely useless. Normally, she would have pulled out of the target the arrows she had used, but somehow she just wasn't up to it at that moment, her mind twirling around the possibilities she had come up with, the ones she had thought about over and over again.

"Maybe mother was good at shooting as well" She thought, making her way to her room, quickly changing from her pants and shirt to a green dress already laid by the bed, placing the used clothes on the laundry basket. It was a good option, really. She had grown up hearing stories about her mother's audacity –Bilbo's father words- and about her 'adventures', so maybe it wouldn't have been so surprising for Belladonna Took to know how to use a bow. It would have been nice to remember something about her, anything would have been fine, but every time Bilbo tried to remember there was just a big dark hole in the middle of her mind "Or maybe it's a Tookish thing" Not probable though, for no Took knew how to shoot either, no matter how Tookish.

Honestly, Bilbo didn't know if to cry or laugh at that.

To laugh because she was even more outgoing than a Took, or to cry pretty much because of the same reason.

"Or maybe it is just luck" Muttered the 'lady' hobbit to herself, opening the front door. She stretched her arms a little before going down the steps, pulling open the mailbox and reaching for whatever was inside. As usual, a couple of letters were waiting for her eyes to take in, and Bilbo did just that after pulling her arm back, busy mumbling under her breathe to even look up once "Yeah, maybe just luck"

It would have been a good idea to look up. Like, really.

"Luck is an extremely mean thing, my friend, taking for itself the believe in our own abilities"

The voice didn't fright her, per se, but it did make her jump in her place. Bilbo stood there, pressing the letters to her chest in a poor attempt of steading her heartbeat, looking up at the impossibly tall newcomer that was standing just in front of her at the other side of the little fence. It has been a really long time since she last saw a man, having gone to Bree no more than a couple of times with her father as a kid, and even so a part of her brain told her that this 'man' was not quite so. His white beard was odd for someone used to no facial hair, a pointy hat on top of his head, grey tunics that could use a wash and a long staff on his hand.

-And butterflies made out of light danced around her head, flapping their wings so many times she got dizzy just of trying to count. Bilbo clapped happily, giggling at them, trying to catch the little moving lights over her head by jumping almost all over the room and by the long table at her side, her mother's and another person's chuckles reaching her ears. The tall man that had set the lights free laughed when she jumped by him, patting her head a little with his free hand; Bilbo looked pass his grey clothes, his white beard and messy eyebrows, staring right at the butterfly standing on top of his pointy hat.

Bilbo frowned a little and shook her head ever so slightly.

Odd.

Extremely odd.

"Good morning" She greeted after she was sure enough that she was not going to stutter over her words, her heart beat not completely back to its normal pace. It was getting weirder and weirder by the second, now she was having strange thoughts. Where all those pictures came from anyway? Now she was going delusional.

"What do you mean?" He raised an eyebrow at her, and Bilbo was left with her mouth a little bit open. What exactly was she supposed to say to that? "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"

She didn't miss a beat.

"I'm almost tempted to say that none of them"

There was a moment of silence that Bilbo used to bit hard on her tongue. She just had to go and say something like that to a total stranger, right? Her father had taught her better manners than that! But there was something on that man that just made her kind of unsettled, like she just had to know who he was, possibly because of the weird things going on her head. Or maybe it was just because he acted like she should know him. There was a slight frown on his face, and Bilbo just knew she had messed it up just like she had messed up the meeting with her great aunt Calivia just a few months ago. Truly, damn her and her incredibly big mouth.

Then, to her even bigger surprise, the man in front of her chuckled.

"I see where you take after your mother, Bilbo Baggins, and I'm most pleased for what I see. Although you look quite uncomfortable in a dress, am I right about that?"

Say what?

"I-I beg your pardon?" The hobbit was pretty sure the letter were going to end up wrinkled in such a way she wouldn't be able to read it, everything because of the tight hold she had on them against her chest, but that mattered little to her at that moment. Stuttering over her words was not something she did often, but this situation certainly deserved some kind of special treatment "You knew my mother?" He nodded.

"And I certainly know you" He pointed out, one of his eyebrow still slightly risen. If anyone had the right to look surprised, it was her, but her mind didn't exactly had the space to comment on something like that "You know my name, Bilbo Baggins, though you don't remember I belong to it" Said the strange man like some sort of explanation, and Bilbo opened her mouth again, not completely sure what was going to come out of it, but he was already talking again "I'm Gandalf, and Gandalf means me"

"Gandalf? Gandalf… the wondering wizard? The one that makes such excellent fireworks? Bless my soul! Old Took used to have them on midsummers eve!" Bilbo managed to let out a short laugh, completely and absolutely relieved, because now there was an explanation of why she had memories of him, even if her mind had placed herself and the wizard in a place she certainly didn't know. It did enough sense to calm her more than just a little bit, a smile making its way to her face "I had no idea you were still on business"

"I'm pleased to find you do remember something about me, even if it is not among my favorites" Gandalf chuckled. Then, suddenly, his eyes turned just half serious, and that kind of set Bilbo off a little bit "I'm looking for someone to share with an adventure"

"An… Adventure?" He just had to be like, what, twenty something years late? Had he said something like that when she was twenty, before her father had died, and she wouldn't even had to think about the answer. Actually, she surprised herself by not accepting right away, but what didn't surprise her as much was the picture of her armchair and her garden on the back of her head, and of course the picture of the oh ever so lovely Lobelia. Unfortunately, she was not as quick when it came to compose herself once again, her hands still holding the letters tightly against her chest "I don't imagine anyone west of Bree with much interest in an adventure, good sir"

Just like she had done before, Gandalf didn't miss a beat.

"And so it happens that I imagine someone around here wanting to do just that" Surprisingly enough he didn't raise an eyebrow even though she half expected him to. He just seemed to expect certain things about her that Bilbo couldn't allow. It didn't pain her, but it did make her uneasy. Better not to miss something when you didn't know what it was, and so she would continue without knowing what a real adventure was about.

"Then I suggest you to keep walking, Mister Gandalf, for it takes a lot time to walk all Hobbiton in one day" She took a step back, and then another one, slowly making her way up the steps to her door.

"That remains to be seen, my dear" Another thing she half expected him to do was to try to follow her inside, but that didn't happen. It was kind of a relive "I would inform the others immediately, my friend. It'll be good for you, of that I'm sure" Now with that she started to panic just a little bit. It was way too tempting.

"No! No! Please, just… just don't" Bilbo shook her head a couple of times "Do come again for apple pie and tea. A letter announcing your presence would be most welcome" At least she would get to speak with him, maybe make him tell her about her mother. Surely that much would be allowed without making her feel stupid for refusing such an opportunity "Good morning" She said breathlessly and turned around, a hand already on the knob of her door.

"Good morning indeed. Oh, and my dear" His voice was smooth, sweet, and he could be very well be making pleasant conversation. It was so calm and composed that Bilbo was almost afraid to turn around, thinking the worst as an outcome of her decision "I think you forgot these"

When she did turn around Gandalf was nowhere to be seen, almost like he had disappeared into thin air, but there, sitting on top of the bench just besides her mail box, were a bunch of arrows. The bunch of arrows she had left behind just a few minutes ago at the back of her house, pierced onto the target against a tree.

Bilbo was a boy's name.

She knew that ever since she was little, and apparently so did the rest of the people living in The Shire- They had all seen Belladonna Took's daughter wrath when she was laughed at for her name and her way of acting, and some of them even felt it; most of those unfortunates and foolish males still had the scars to prove that, when she was not that young but not yet in her tweens, Bilbo had been more of a Took than she was now a Baggins. She had been mistaken for a boy several times, running around in pants and shirts, borrowed from her cousins and then bought by her own father, up until the moment he fell ill. Bilbo could remember her father's smile when he asked her, lying on his bed, if to wear a dress was what she really wanted, looking over her green skirt and ribbons.

She had said yes.

Now, Bilbo wondered as she stood in front of the mirror inside her room, why she seemed unable to say the same lie to her reflection. The lie that she had said to herself every morning for the last twenty something years. Just saying.

Although you look quite uncomfortable in a dress, am I right about that?

Tilting her face to one side, she stared at her reflection. She certainly didn't look comfortable, but that was not something she wasn't used to. Glancing towards the small window on her left, she checked that it was getting darker and darker by the hour; frowning, she looked back at the mirror. She was just about to eat dinner and that was it for the day, she even had the food ready on the table, so it couldn't really hurt… right?

Sighing in defeat, she walked towards her closet. A couple of minutes later she was standing again in front of the mirror, smiling slightly at how much she looked like her father with pants and a shirt on. Thankfully Lobelia wouldn't visit her that night, and so Bilbo would be able to enjoy her night in absolute comfort. Smiling to her reflection once more, she walked out the door, humming to herself as she walked towards the kitchen, sitting on the seat just in front of the place with fish and several vegetables that she had set just a few minutes ago.

Then, of course, there was a knock on the door.

And that was quite enough to make her as nervous as she had managed not to be those last hours, just after she came back from the market. The picture of the really tall man standing in front of her door made her actually think about what would happen if she didn't move from her place at all or if she pretended to not have heard anything, finish her dinner and went straight to bed- Surely, sooner or later he would get tired and walk away, right? And this time, he most probably was not going to come back, because people as wise as wizards would know that she was not about to agree to whatever he was offering her.

And then everything would go back to normal.

In the morning maybe she would shoot a few arrows and that was going to be it; she would put her male clothes back into the closet until 'a next time'. And then she would eat breakfast.

Yes, if she didn't move from her place, he would realize that adventures were certainly the most unhobbitly thing to do, even if he already knew of her shooting arrows- Nothing more than a Baggins with a little bit too much of Tookish blood on her…

"I'll hate myself after this" Was her thought when she found herself waking to the door, the suddenly cold handle in her hand almost automatically, and she was quite sure her body was moving that way to prevent her Baggins side from stopping her- Sometimes, most of the times, being part Took guarantied troubles whenever she wanted to be part of it or not "I'll definitely hate myself after this"

What was at the other side of the door was not what she was expecting to see…. At all.

"Dwalin" The man- The dwarf, she corrected herself when she noticed the details between the two of them and therefore her mistake, bowed to her without breaking eye contact for even a second, almost like it was some kind of challenge from his part, something that Bilbo would gladly end if she weren't standing on her place with her mouth slightly open in what could only be described as complete confusion, trying to process what was in front of her at that moment without making a fool of herself "At your service"

…Is that an axe?