Enjoy!

"Dwalin, at your service, miss." The barrel chested dwarf said as he bent at the waist. It took a moment for Bilbo's mind to start working again because the dwarf had just said his name was Dwalin; and that couldn't be right because Dwalin was a dwarf warrior, a character from her book and one of the company members who died at the mountain.

That was not how her evening was supposed to go.

Not that her evening had been planned down to the minute but she had started the day thinking it was going to be a day or relaxation and rest; one where she could work on her writing.

That was why she was at the tea shop that morning, sipping a nice cup of hot tea as she watched the crowd mill about. Thoroughly enthralled in watching the crowd she didn't notice someone approach her outside corner table. A tall elderly man dressed in grey slacks and wearing a pale blue pullover stopped in front of table, leaning lightly on a grey cane.

"Ah Bilbo Baggins."

Bilbo startled. "Good morning." She tentatively said.

"What do you mean?" he said. "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?"

Bilbo stuttered, wrapping her mind around the question. "All of them at once," she said, taking a soothing sip of tea. "And a very fine morning to have tea. You could sit and join me."

"No, no. I have not the time this morning. I am looking for someone to share in an adventure." The elderly man tapped his cane firmly on the concrete.

Bilbo nodded. Devon was hardly the Shire to choose to look through for the adventuring sort. "Nasty business those. Might lose your mobile and then where would you be without your GPS. Besides they can make you miss tea time. Now, if you're looking for adventurers I might suggest London or Liverpool." She pulled a book out of her purse and flipped through to her most recent bookmarked page.

She was still being watching though, by damnable twinkling eyes that would relent. "Good morning." She said, huffing dramatically and raising the book to block her face; in her mind the conversation was already over.

"What a lot of things you use good morning for." He tutted. "Now you mean that you want to get rid of me, and that it won't be good till I move off."

Bilbo shifted in her chair, feeling decidedly admonished even though she hadn't done anything wrong. It wasn't like she had approached a stranger (of course how strange could one be if they knew the other person's name) in a tea shop and struck up a conversation. "It's just- sir, I don't even know your name."

He introduced himself as Gandalf and it took Bilbo back. He was the very same man who used to come by the house with fireworks and would light up the night sky; sometimes he would even put on a fireworks show for the children. It was Gandalf who also encouraged the wayward lad and lasses of Devon to run off and away on adventures, some of them never coming back but those that did were never the same. As she recited her childhood memories Gandalf's smile grew and the twinkle in his eyes sparkled ever brighter with each word of praise.

"Well that's quite a relief to hear that you remember me. Now- how is the writing going?"

"Oh it's fine- fine. All fine, just stuck." She mumbled, wondering how in the world Gandalf had known about her writing. Few people knew about her writing, her cousin Lobelia (who was adamant in setting Bilbo up on dates which obnoxious fellows) was also the only person who actually knew that Bilbo was a published author (because Bilbo used the excuse of writing to get out of many a date).

It wasn't as though she were a prolific author; she had only two books published, nothing more than little tales from her own adventures as a child. These adventures took place in a land called Middle Earth which was inhabited by many creatures by tall and small, which was why all of her stories happened there. As a child sometimes she pretended she was a beautiful elf, tall with hair golden as the sun, who fought a mighty beast of smoke and flame, dreaded balrogs. Then she was a human woman, killing a mighty witch-king, one that could be killed by no man. Or she would be a dwarf, fighting for gold and jewels, under the powerful clutches of Gold Lust; which her mother would cure of her the madness with a kiss to her forehead, proclaiming that love could defeat anything. Her mother sometimes played along with her, and her favorite race was the Hobbits. Mother always liked the gentle folk of the Shire; she said the world needed the simple folk who shared a love for things that grow.

Bilbo had an active childhood, but it died the same day as her mother. She became a proper Baggins that day, which was when she began to pen her adventures.

Her most recent published book involved a Dwarf kingdom, Erebor, being claimed by a mighty fire drake of the North, Smaug. The POV in the story floated around between 13 dwarves as it told about their flight through Middle Earth and what they had done to survive. Now she was working on the sequel called The Heirs of Durin which was about a company of 13 dwarves (and not all the same dwarves as before) on a quest to reclaim their home Erebor and the treasure from Smaug.

Lately though she had hit a rough patch. She had her characters down; a solid set of events from fighting trolls, meeting elves, and going to the city of Laketown before they fought the dreaded Smaug. The ending was also established (because she liked knowing where her story was going) and in the end only three dwarves remain when the mountain is reclaimed: the scribe Ori, the Heir Under the Mountain Fili, and the miner Bofur.

"I will give you what you asked for." Gandalf said, passing her a small leather-bound book.

It had a red leather cover that was embossed in exquisitely fine detail with the shape of two hammers crossed on the front and the back was a beautifully curved blade, inscribed on the front in flowing gold letters was 'There and Back Again.' She flipped through the pages, noting the odd writing font that was on the cover was also present throughout the small book.

"Thank you Gandalf." Bilbo beamed, looking up to him but finding he was gone. She shrugged, figuring that Gandalf would come and collect his book whenever he wanted it back. She put it in her purse and went back to sipping her tea.

She had forgotten about the little book until later on that evening. It fell out of her purse and dropped with a thud onto the kitchen floor while she prepared dinner. She picked the small thing up and placed it on her comfy sitting room chair; she would have a few minutes while dinner baked to read through the book and figure out the reason why Gandalf gave her the book.

So while dinner was in the oven Bilbo sat down on the plush armchair in her living room, folded her legs up and she curled on the seat; this was one of the few times where she was thankful she was so short (that she was in fact compact).

Up to then her night had been going swimmingly, everything according to plan, rest and relaxation.

Abrupt and brusque knocking interrupted her reading. She slipped a spare sheet of paper into the book. It was a thrilling read, even if she wasn't far into the story.

Grumbling she made her way to the door, someone had interrupted her reading, some visitor who hadn't had the decency to call ahead and announce before they showed up at her door.

Looking back on it she doesn't know why she didn't notice the small changes before, like how the little things that pulled at her. The transformation around her was so subtly done that she didn't notice any of it, including the changes to her body.

It was only at the door that Bilbo finally realized something was distinctly off about her Bag End as evidenced by the freshly painted green door with a shiny brass knob in its exact center. She didn't have long to ponder the strangeness of her front door before the knocking started up earnestly again.

Which led to Bilbo remembering her manners and promptly opening the door; no guest could complain about the hospitality at Bag End, not while a Baggins lived there.

That's when she knew her night was not going to go according to plan at all.

Bilbo leaned against the open door, mouth gaping open- so too was her dressing gown which she bashfully tied up. "Miss?" Dwalin prompted.

He was a fairly large dwarf with a bald and faintly tattooed head. It seemed all of his hair was concentrated around his mouth in a full black beard that was interlaced with wisps of silver and grey. Scattered in various places over his body was an armory's worth of weapons.

"Bilbo- Bilbo Baggins, at your service." Her hands trembled as she clutched at the patchwork dressing gown. She wasn't dressed to receive visitors, even unexpected and unannounced ones. Her dressing gown maintained propriety.

And without as much as a by your leave or a please come in, the dwarf swept passed her and took off his cloak, hanging it up on one of the pegs in the front hallway.

"Is it down here?" Dwalin impatiently looked about her house. Bilbo followed his curious glances, taking in the house.

It seemed the basic lay out of Bag End had remained the same; if it hadn't she doubtlessly would've noticed the transformation earlier. Other things had changed though. The hallway was circular and everything in the house seemed round, more accommodating to someone of a larger girth than it was to those of greater height. Bilbo couldn't complain because she fit inside the house perfectly. Some part of the house still had a queer homey feel to it, even if she didn't recognize the architecture completely.

"Lassie, where's the grub?" Dwalin eyed her irritably.

"Oh, I believe it's this way." Bilbo shuffled in the direction of the kitchen. Her dinner should be ready soon; it wouldn't be hard to make two plates out of it.

Surprisingly Bilbo's dinner was already plated and on her table, still steaming as if she had just taken it out of the oven. Like his brusqueness earlier Dwalin sat and ate her dinner. Bilbo took a seat to the side, her stomach churning as she watched someone else eat her dinner; not just anyone though, a character from a book- a book that she had written herself. She fumed in her corner but didn't say anything. The Baggins were the epitome of the perfect host and she wouldn't ruin their hard earned reputation; so as such she wouldn't say anything about her guest, no matter his manners or lack thereof.

Dwalin finished her dinner and gruffly asked for seconds. Bilbo, unused to her 'new' kitchen, searched but for a moment before she saw the basket of biscuits. She passed them over to the dwarf who eyed them greedily.

A series of resounding knocks broke the stagnant silence. Dwalin looked over at her expectantly, finishing the pint of ale that had appeared alongside the plate. Bilbo, hands clenched in her dressing gown, backed into the corner fretfully. "That would be the door." He informed her wryly.

Bilbo resisted the urge to snort; it wouldn't do to anger someone who could beyond a shadow of a doubt tear her apart limb from limb without breaking a sweat.

She went back to the round green door, her hands clenching and unclenching, whatever dream she was in she would very much like to wake up already. This was quite enough ridiculousness for one night, she already had one dwarf; she didn't need another visitor.

"Balin, at your service miss." The next dwarf politely bowed.

Interestingly enough Balin was exactly as she had imagined him, down to the pearly gray and white plaited beard. Polite as he could be, Balin considerately waited for her to recover from the brief shock of seeing another member of the company at her doorstep; unlike his brother, Dwalin, Balin didn't prompt her.

"Bilbo Baggins, at your service." She gracefully bowed, smiling up at the courteous dwarf. Of all the dwarves in the story, he had been the one she had wanted to meet the most; she had based him on her father, a genteel dwarf with the respectfulness of a Baggins. "Come in please," She sincerely said, bouncing on her feet.

"Thank you," Balin said before walking past her. Dwalin had come out of the kitchen and upon seeing his brother greeted him boisterously, hugging him close before knocking their foreheads together. Bilbo couldn't help but smile at the greeting.

The two dwarves walked off for the kitchen, Balin offering his commentary about moving something to fit everyone in but Bilbo didn't have a chance to find out what he meant as the knocking began earnestly again.

She sighed watching longingly as Balin walked away. She had hoped to have a minute with him before another member of the company of dwarves showed up. Glancing one last time at the kitchen to where the dwarves had disappeared of to, Bilbo turned back to her door; she knew it wouldn't do well to keep the next member of the company waiting at the door, not all of them were as patient or polite as Balin.

She opened the door much slower this time, hoping to guess who would be next, thinking that maybe it was one of the 'Ri brothers or one of the 'Ur family. What she saw stopped her heart. She hadn't predicted two dwarves. For that matter she hadn't expected two hot dwarves. Though that thought left her stunned, she hadn't predicted that a dwarf could even be attractive.

"Fili-." The blonde dwarf said; the two braids framing his mouth twitched as he talked.

"Kili-" The dark haired dwarf said, younger looking than the other and lacking a full grown beard.

"- at your service miss Boggins." They said in perfect unison; Bilbo doubted that the two had practiced that.

The dwarves stared at her in expectation, and also like that were blatantly undressing her. She shuddered, caught between slamming the door in their pretty boy faces and simply staring at them until she had her fill of their pretty boy faces. Their staring though unnerved her, and she suddenly remembered that she had not properly greeted her guests. "Oh- Bilbo Baggins, at your service." She bowed curtly.

The way the two grinned at her, their eyes mischievous, Bilbo would have blushed and walked right on by them if she were in Devon, but she wasn't and they were guests at her house. Bilbo tried to keep the blush from staining her cheeks too horribly or at least too conspicuously; judging from the way their smiles turned into smirks she hadn't been successful or lucky. Of course what else could she expect from two of the heirs of Durin. She knew who Fili and Kili were. They were the sons of Dis, the sister to Thorin. Besides that they were also two grown dwarf men; they would notice a female's reaction to their presence.

She already had two dwarves in her house, how could she possibly handle four; let alone how could she handle thirteen dwarves once the rest of the company trickled in. She needed time; she tried closing the door but Kili put a foot out before she could shut it.

"Is it cancelled now?" He looked aghast to his brother.

"No, nothing's cancelled-" Bilbo hurried to explain but before she could get any further the brothers were pushing the door back open and Bilbo had to follow or else she would've fallen back and ended up in a rather graceless mess on the floor, and that wasn't how she wanted her (albeit terrible so far) first time meeting the dwarves to go.

"Oh good." Kili and Fili walked in, shedding their cloaks along the way. Kili hung his up on a peg but Fili turned to her and started handing over every weapon on his person. All the while, the blonde prince crookedly grinned at her, as if he knew something that she didn't; which she doubted because this was her story, she had written it and there wasn't much he could know which she didn't already. The blush that had reddened her cheeks since she had set eyes on the princes hadn't left her face either; it was definitely not helping matters because the two were nearly double teaming her, Kili on her side and Fili in front of her. Why, she was ready to bolt for her bedroom and lock the door behind her.

Thankfully, before they could start any of their devious ideas and truly double team her, Dwalin rescued her. He came in and welcomed the two princes, Balin and him enlisting their help in moving kitchen table about to make room for the rest of the company. Thirteen dwarves, Bilbo cringed at the thought of the damage they would wreck on her home.

"Is everything alright Miss?" Balin solicited.

Bilbo stammered, "Certainly, everything's fine." She was still laden down by the pile of weaponry that the princes had seen fit to give her. "I'll be back in a moment sir, please make yourselves at home." She glanced around for somewhere to drop the bundle, noting a wooden trunk with mud scarped on it, oh well she thought, setting the pile of weapons upon it.

Balin nodded in her direction before heading back to the kitchen where it sounded like someone was trying to drag something heavy across the floor. Bilbo didn't question it though, or try and find out. There were dwarves in her home, dwarves who were on a quest to Erebor to reclaim their home under the mountain from a dragon. And if she was right, which she considered was highly probable because already there were four out for the thirteen dwarves from the company in her kitchen right now doing only god knows what and nine more dwarves were on their way.

Running around her house in her dressing gown was now less than appealing.

In her bedroom, Bilbo tore off the dressing gown, desperately not wanting to miss a moment with the colorful dwarves. She briefly paused in her mad dash to examine her clothes. She wanted to at least guarantee she had on something decent; she didn't want to expose herself to these dwarves (at least not yet, a cheeky part of her admitted). The comfortable outfit she had been wearing in Devon had transformed with the house and it was now the Middle Earth equivalent: an off-white chemise that had obviously seen better days (just like the loose white top she had been wearing at home) and a dark green skirt that cut off slightly above her feet so that the hairy tops were visible (she grimaced when she noticed how hairy they were), plus a stormy grey bodice which she hadn't been wearing in Devon but now she was (it's not like it was the strangest thing to have happened to her that day so she didn't question it). It wasn't the most attractive outfit, and certainly not one she would've chosen if she knew visitors were coming, especially visitors as attractive as the last two dwarves.

She didn't have time to change though as another series of loud knocks sounded, demanding her presence at the front door again.

Bilbo raced to the front door, smoothing out her skirt along the way. She wondered who the next dwarf guest at her door would be. Anticipation gnawed at her stomach, reminding her that she hadn't eaten yet and it was high time that she did.

She took a deep breath before opening the massive round door, calming her racing heart. It wouldn't do to appear too excited at the characters coming to life before her. Who knew how long the spell, or whatever she was under would last. A loud crash sounded from the kitchen and before she could question what had happened there- she yanked the front door open.

An avalanche of dwarves tumbled into her front hall, nearly knocking her over; they would have if it weren't for her quick and nimble steps back. The worst of it though was Gandalf, the batty mad old man, stood behind all the dwarves, laughing at their antics as though the sight wasn't one of the strangest things in the world. The mad old man was robed all in gray and wore a tall blue pointed hat, leaning on a stick as he chuckled while the dwarves righted themselves.

Bilbo's eyes narrowed and she resisted shouting vehemently at the batty man; instead she channeled all of her rage and ire at him into greeting the dwarves, passive aggressively ignoring Gandalf, though he didn't seem to notice.

The dwarves eventually righted themselves and started a rapid fire series of introductions. If she had not already been intimately familiar with the story and its characters than she would've been confused but as such she managed to guess who some of them were before they even managed to say their names.

The 'Ri brothers were the first to introduce themselves. She only got one name from this group right when she mentally guessed their names (she didn't think that the two eldest ones were related with as much as they bickered) and that was the youngest who was also the shyest, little Ori. She wanted to squeal with delight when she saw him, he was adorable; she knew it was him from knitwear he wore and the ink stains on his fingers. The elder brothers, Nori and Dori, took the time to stop their argument so they could properly greet her, offering their services before hanging up their cloaks and making for the kitchen.

The next three dwarves to introduce themselves were the 'Ur brothers. All three of them were distinctive. Bombur was a large rotund dwarf, his size made him recognizable, he also didn't say anything to her but he did bow before sweeping away into the kitchen. Bofur did the talking, telling her Bombur's name (even though she didn't need him to say it) and introducing Bifur, his cousin with the axe stuck in his head and who could only speak in the secret Dwarven language of Khuzdul. When she had written Bifur, she hadn't thought about how terrifying it would be to see an axe embedded in someone's skull. She struggled not to flinch when Bifur tried talking to her, speaking roughly in Khuzdul. Bofur, a charming sweet fellow, had a ghastly sense of humor; he apologized for the tumble into the hall, saying that it was good she was quick or she might've been squashed to death – and all the while as he said this he grinned.

The 'In brothers waited until everyone else was done. Bilbo couldn't help the small giggle that escaped her mouth when Oin pulled out a horn to hear her. The ruckus in the kitchen had grown louder with each additional dwarf which was why he probably he needed it right then. Gloin was brusque and to the point; afterward he shepherded his brother into the kitchen.

By now, Bilbo would be happy to continue ignoring Gandalf and head straight was for the kitchen as she was well and truly curious as what all the fuss was about. Also, she would subtly inspect for damage the dwarves had already committed. But she didn't. She did however finally allow the scowl through.

"Gandalf." She tried to gaze as sternly as she could at him while he hassled navigating through the small house (this caused a no small amount of glee) as he was too tall, he had to bend over so his head wouldn't hit the ceiling.

A loud crash startled her and she was off to the kitchen, fearful of the havoc that the dwarves could cause, all thought of chastising the eccentric man were dashed away.

What she came to was a mess- and a raid. The dwarves were ransacking her pantry.

"No. No-give me that." Bilbo tried protesting, grabbing at items but her attempts were feeble at best. The only time she managed to snag anything was from Ori, who flushed and ran from her rage, and Bilbo felt guilty for even yelling at him. The dwarves pushed and shoved her aside constantly; so much so that even the bowl of tomatoes she had managed to save from Ori flew out of her hands and unexpectedly caught by a smirking Kili.

Ori was out of the kitchen; Fili had a hand on his back, reassuring him as they made their way back to the pantry. The dwarves were going to unquestionably empty her stock of food before she could even eat a bite for dinner.

Bilbo stopped focusing on preventing the dwarves from emptying her pantry and instead started nabbing bits and pieces from the plates and trays as they marched out. She managed to snatch an apple and a few biscuits, though the cheese was long gone; she wasn't going to try and take it from Bombur, who eyed the wheel like a madman.

She found a spot in the corner and munched on her meager supper, it wouldn't fill her up but it was better than nothing.

The dwarves were a riotous mess, tossing food about the table and laughing when someone caught it in their mouth. Kili and Fili at one point danced on the table, sloshing their mugs of ale. Poor Ori caught in between them but instead of looking scared and frightened as the dwarf was wont to do in the book, he excitedly watched the proceedings, even going so far as to joining in on Kili and Fili's ridiculous drinking contest. Dwalin stood near the three, eyes only on Ori.

Gandalf was no help; the batty old man laughed merrily and smoked at his pipe, one of the dwarfs even offered him a glass of wine from her pantry. Bilbo shuddered at the implications of her hostessing skills. Honestly though, she hadn't been prepared to accept so many guests into her house, and for them to start what closely resembled a fraternity party in her house, why she was woefully close to blowing her top.

She did manage to drag Gandalf out for a chat though (away from the blasted dwarves), cursing the dwarves, no matter how merry the lot of them were. He was batty and downright unhelpful as Bilbo wailed about the dwarves, encouraging her to get along with them.

"Excuse me," sweet, young, innocent Ori politely interrupted their conversation. Bilbo did well to somewhat smile at the young dwarf; she didn't want to scare him off like she did earlier. Of all the dwarves, Ori was the least offensive. "But what do I do with my plate?" He asked, holding said plate aloft.

She didn't want the dwarves breaking her plates; at least Ori had been gracious enough to ask what to do because Bilbo was happy to help him. Fili walked up then, before Bilbo could do anything to save her precious dinnerware. "Here you go Ori, give it to me." Fili took the plate from the young dwarf without giving Bilbo a chance. He tossed the plate around Gandalf, to his brother Kili who then tossed it off into the kitchen to god knows who because there wasn't any shattering.

"Don't do that." Bilbo shouted, trying to be heard by the two ruffians. Had she thought they were attractive? Right now they were more like children running amok in her house than grown men who she would deign to sleep with.

"Don't break those plates!" She tangled her hands in her skirt and tried not to lash out at the dwarves, especially not poor Ori, who was amused and scared just like her as they watched the plates and bowls be tossed around the house. Fili at one point managed to bounce the bowls on his shoulders like some circus act, smirking and grinning at her like this would somehow endear him to her. This most definitely was not endearing him to her, not one bit, not no how.

Bilbo stalked to the kitchen where all the dwarves had started banging the cutlery on the table.

"Don't do that- you'll blunt them." Bilbo admonished the dwarves, trying to sound stern and not at all shrill as she lost control of her house.

If their chuckling was anything to go by than she had lost even more control of her house.

"Oh you hear that lads? She says we'll blunt the knives." What Bofur said though was the icing on the cake.

She truly had no control in this house and quite possibly no control in Middle Earth. This was her world. She created it. She should have some power here. But she didn't and the dwarves were singing loudly about what she hates.

Bilbo growled in frustration. She followed Fili as he darted about, tossing the plates. She barely caught sight of the dwarves piling dishes in Ori's hands. The young dwarf bewildered as the stack grew and grew. Bifur, she saw at the sink, scrubbing the plates until they shone.

The dwarves kept a merry tune, singing and dancing as they cleaned the plates. Only to present their accomplishment to her at the song's end with all the plates on the table. Bilbo wanted to smack them all right then, even if they somehow were able to toss the plates and clean them without breaking a single one.

A number of the dwarves clapped her on the back, a few of them too hard because Bilbo had to brace herself from almost following over at the rough slaps.

Everything paused though when another knock sounded at the door. Absolute silence reigned.

Bilbo mentally tallied each dwarf off, trying to figure out who was late. It would've been better if she could count them off on her fingers; she gave up, finding it impossible to try to remember which dwarf she had already counted.

She huffed to the door, pleading with whatever god or gods were still out there and listening that this dwarf wouldn't be as much trouble as the others. Hoping maybe those same gods could send her a nice quiet dwarf- or a kitten; she would happily take a kitten over these rambunctious dwarves.

Bilbo didn't move for a second, suddenly arrested at the door as she stared at the dwarf who had been the last to arrive.

She hadn't expected this. This man, man-dwarf. He was amazing, astounding, gorgegous, heck she couldn't think of the perfect adjective to describe him. In the Heirs of Durin Bilbo had described his beard, the stern stare, and his ever present scowl, but she hadn't thought about his looks.

"So this is the hobbit." A hobbit? Bilbo Baggins was a hobbit now? She was part of the smallest race in Middle Earth and one of the most useless at that. They were the hedonists of Middle Earth, living in the Shire working happily as farmers while the world of the big folk moved on ahead of them, why they couldn't even ride a horse because of how small their stature was. Even if they were created by her mother Bilbo would have chosen a more useful and majestic race to be in Middle Earth than a hobbit. Bilbo tenderly brought a hand up to her ears, slightly fearful; if she was a hobbit then she would have the ears too. She fingered the rounded edges, tracing the edge until it tapered off into a delicate point. She squeaked, quickly covering her mouth as she blushed hotly. The mouse like sound earned a quizzical look from Thorin.

"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?" He asked, the entire company stood around watching them.

Bilbo tried to think of something that fit into Middle Earth, her fictional world, "I can play a mean game of conkers."

"She looks more like a grocer than a burglar." Thorin disdainfully said.

"I beg your pardon." Bilbo said indignantly, arms fluttering at her sides as she turned around following him.

Thorin snorted derisively at her comment, dismissing her and joining his company of dwarves. They led him to the kitchen where he sat at the head of the table, staring down as if hoping that something would magically appear in front of him. When nothing did Thorin looked purposefully over to her, haughtily raising a brow in silent exasperation. Bilbo harried about her kitchen, thanking whatever god that was out there that everything seemed to have transformed without really changing places or positions.

She prepared a simple soup from the scraps that she managed to scavenge from the wreckage that was her kitchen and pantry, setting it in front of Thorin before taking a place behind the dwarves in the doorway. The dwarves had eaten her out of house and home; she would have to go shopping when she returned to Devon, just in case the food didn't magically reappear when she went home.

She couldn't fathom how she was supposed to go back home. The red book Gandalf had given her was still in her study, she could try to read it again and maybe it would send her back to Devon.

The dwarves were speaking about their quest to reclaim their home, Erebor. They needed someone light on their feet to sneak past a dragon, the dread dragon Smaug, a fire drake from the north. Bilbo agreed with their comments; she had never truly thought about it but they needed someone was light on their feet, quick and nimble to steal past the dragon. They needed an expert burglar.

"Well are you?" One of the dwarves asked, Bilbo thought it was Gloin.

"Am I what?" Bilbo asked, leaning over Thorin's shoulder to look at the map on the table.

One of the dwarves must have mistaken her because he shouted "She said she's an expert!"

Bilbo tried protesting; she had never burglared before in her life and now these dwarves seemed to think she was an expert. At least Balin had the right of it; he could tell she wasn't a burglar.

"Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar she is." Gandalf thundered, his voice coming out as a low rumble. He towered above every person; the corner in which he stood grew dark behind him.

Bilbo trembled, hands immediately latching onto the first thing near her- which happened to be the back of Thorin's chair; she hoped it would go noticed. She had never seen Gandalf react so vehemently; it was terrifying to behold. But the darkness surrounding him only lasted but a moment, the lines creasing around his face familiarly. He seemed to groan as he lowered himself back into the chair and then explained why he had chosen Bilbo as the fourteenth member of the company.

Bilbo hadn't give much thought to the hobbits being good for sneaking. They hadn't seemed to be of much good beyond their farming and cooking skills.

"Give her the contract." Thorin stated.

Balin handed her a scroll, the contract he had called it. It certainly was a contract, longer than any terms and conditions she had ever read through before but it was easier to read through than the Apple terms and conditions which had been a perplexing nightmare of legalities.

"Laceration…Evisceration- Incineration?" Bilbo indignantly sputtered, looking back to the dwarves for clarification.

Bofur cheerfully perked up, happily explaining "Oh aye, it'll melt the flesh of your bones in the blink of an eye."

Suddenly dizzy, Bilbo bent over, hands on her knees. They wanted her to sneak past the Smaug, were they insane? She couldn't think clearly, eerily similar to the dizzy spells that she had had in her youth. She tried catching her breath.

"Are you alright there lassie?" Balin kindly asked.

Bilbo nodded, still feeling faint. Why did the Gandalf have to choose her, she would have happily stayed in Devon, in fact that sounded like a grand idea, she would be happy to stay at home all day curled up on the sofa with a good book and some hot tea or even her notepad writing away about someone on a grand adventure.

"Just think furnace with wings-" Bofur supplied, trying to be helpful when in all truthfulness the thought of a furnace was not helping matters at all, not one bit.

What she needed right then was air. "I eh, I need air." Bilbo stuttered, trying to articulate what she needed but she couldn't even fathom it. The world started to shrink and she desperately wished it would stop.

"-Flash of light, searing pain, then poof- you're nothing more than a pile o' ash." Bofur continued.

When had the air gotten so warm in here, Bilbo thought, her mind a muddled mess that she couldn't make sense of at the moment. She struggled straightening up, trying to put on the best face when she could feel everything seizing up. She knew it was going to happen and no matter how hard she tried to fight it, tried to stay calm and breathe deep that there was no way to prevent the sudden and strange sense of vertigo. She did however have one last thing to say before she fell to the ground, "Nope."

Waking up was a chore, she wanted to go back to sleep even though she was having an awful dream about being in Middle Earth, and she was a hobbit. If she was going to be a character in her series than at least she wanted to be a tall graceful elf. She could have the long luxurious hair and the longevity of life, and then she could look down on people for once, she could reach things on the top shelf without having to stand on her tip toes anymore. There wasn't anything overly special about the Hobbits, besides the fact that they valued food, drink, and cheer above all else in the world. They weren't renowned warriors or great thinkers, but they were some of the best cooks in all of Middle Earth. So if she was going to dream about living in Middle Earth than she would like to be someone of importance, not a simple Hobbit of the Shire.

When she opened her eyes, she found to her dismay that Gandalf sat in front of her; right then she wanted nothing more than to wrap her hands around his neck and wring it tightly and then to throttle the batty old man until he was blue in the cheeks. He cheekily watched her, eyes twinkling, damnably twinkling as if he knew the effect all of this had on her. It was his damnable fault that she had fainted and she wanted to go back to Devon right now thank you very much; she would have none of this burglar and adventure business.

Gandalf looked away and Bilbo followed his gaze to the doorway; Thorin leaned against the wall, watching her, and he nodded once their eyes met before he turned back to the kitchen. The dwarf king had ensured that she was well before going back to his company, Bilbo didn't know whether or not she should be touched at the small sign of caring.

She hadn't had anyone care about her like that for a while. Her parents had passed away by the time she was just 18. The fell winter had claimed her mom and a few short years after that her dad passed away as well, dying seemingly of a broken heart. So it was strange to know that even though she had fainted, someone had cared enough to move her from the uncomfortable floor into the plush armchair in her study.

The armchair. The study. Bilbo frantically swept her gaze around the small room for the little red book that she had been reading when Dwalin had first knocked on her door thinking that maybe she could use it to somehow go back home.

The dwarves were all fine and well, and she did enjoy meeting her characters in person, even if they weren't the most pleasant sort to be around- there was a lingering stale odor that seemed to trail each dwarf. It's just she didn't belong in Middle Earth; she wasn't a hobbit, she liked wearing shoes, though a small part of her insisted that shoes were too confining and were highly unnecessary. This wasn't her world; she belonged with computers, mobile phones, and cars. She was going to return to her world; she was not going to be dragged into the dwarfs' mad venture that Gandalf had thrust her into.

"It won't work you know." Gandalf cryptically said as if reading her thoughts.

Bilbo leveled him with her best glare, "it has to."

Gandalf shook his head, "You're here for an adventure Bilbo, you might as well enjoy it."

"As what? They're burglar? It's a half mad venture anyway and I know what happens-"

"Don't be too hasty Miss Baggins, this is Middle Earth."

"I wrote-" Bilbo stopped at Gandalf's harsh stare.

"I don't believe this story has yet been written Miss Baggins- Now, this is an adventure. You're welcome to live the experience."

Bilbo sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Can you promise that I will come back?"

Gandalf shook his head, long beard swaying with the movement. "No. And if you do, you will not be the same."

She didn't want to go on an adventure in Middle Earth. She wanted to be back home and lay under a warm blanket while drinking tea and reading the latest revision to her novel. This wasn't her home, no matter how much it resembled it.

Bilbo shook her head. She wasn't going to stay here forever; she would find a way home somehow. "Sorry, Gandalf, I can't sign this. You've got the wrong person."

She shook her head, leaving Gandalf behind in her sitting room. Passing by Thorin and Balin, she thought she heard them make mention that they had lost their burglar. Seeing as how she had never signed the contract Bilbo thought they were a bit hasty in thinking that they ever had a burglar to begin with. There was no burglar in the story; it was about a bunch of dwarves on a mad quest to reclaim their home and she would not get pulled into this mad quest simply because Gandalf wanted her to go. She was in control of this story, and she didn't belong here. This wasn't even her home; she stole some poor Hobbit's home and had somehow claimed it for her own. She had burglarized a poor hobbit's home.

Bilbo would've pounded her head against the wall but she wasn't sure how strong her head was, especially if this- whatever dream, spell, or hallucination thing continued; she didn't want to end up living in Middle Earth with a concussion.

In her bedroom, Bilbo sat back on the bed, looking out over the landscape of the Shire. She could see the party tree and the winding twisting road that led to the market. There was another world at out there, a world beyond her books and her maps; she could explore a whole new world. But she didn't want all that. She wanted to fall back into bed and wake up in the morning and be in Devon again; in her own bed or even sitting on the chair with that little red book back in her hands.

Something deep and soft reverberated through the house, dragging Bilbo from her thoughts. At first she considered the dwarves had found something to play with and she should be very scared right then. But she wasn't scared enough to stay away from the noise. No, she went looking for it.

Then the sound became words, not just the deep thrumming of a litany of voices, for she knew it was the dwarves. She could pick out a voice or two there. "Far over deep the Misty Mountains cold…" Bilbo pressed herself against the wall and shivered.

The dwarves were singing about their home.

She didn't know the dwarves could sing. In the story they had always been loud house ruffians with a staunch hatred towards elves and a penchant for a shoot first ask questions later mentality. Now though, they were shattering even her preconceived notions about them.

It would have been easier for her to accept their singing if they had been dismally horrible at it. But no, the dwarves were incredible. For each one joined their King in perfect harmony in singing the somber song, adding their voices to the slow melody.

Bilbo leaned into the sitting room to catch a glimpse of the one voice that was raised above all the others, for who among the dwarves could possibly sing like some heaven sent angel. It was Thorin, the leader of the company, whose voice rose among the others. A deep baritone, it shook her core; she was sorely tempted to sit in front of the fire and fall asleep listening to his voice. For through their voices she could see the Misty Mountains and feel the fire of Smaug as it burned. This was no song that had been thrown together hastily; this was a ballad, which had been perfected after many years. They spoke of a home they missed, a home stolen from them. And treasure, Bilbo could see the treasure clear as day before her. The majestic hoard of the dwarves lay bare at her feet. The dwarves' skill shined for all to see in the beautiful craftsmanship from the swords, armors, and sundry littering the cavernous floor. But the treasure had been lost to them as well, the true target of dragon Smaug. And this quest was as much about claiming that treasure as it was about reclaiming their home; for dwarves are drawn to gold.

Thorin looked behind him. Bilbo ducked back behind the wall, panting after almost having been caught listening in on such a private moment. She couldn't move away though, she was caught up in the song and had to hear it to its end. She did know one thing, Thorin saw her; whether he was happy or not about her witnessing their singing she didn't know.

The song ended on a deep groan. Bilbo sank against the wall, clutching tightly at her skirts; she needed to leave before they caught her. With a last pensive and longing look at the open doorway to her sitting room, Bilbo slipped away.

She pillaged the house and set about to making beds for thirteen dwarves and one batty old man. Gandalf still had some explaining to do but she would wait until the morning to ask him. She had to find out just how he had gotten her here and what she had to do to go home.

Morning came bright and early, a little song bird chirping outside her window. Bilbo wished she had a rock to throw at the damned lark for waking her up before her alarm clock had gone off. She groaned, shifting about in her bed and wondering what the time was exactly and if she had enough time for more sleep or was her alarm clock going to go off in about five minutes so she might as well get up and get ready. She rolled back over, blearily glancing around the familiar and yet unfamiliar room for her infernal alarm clock. Strange, she couldn't seem to find it on her bedside table. Instead there was a little red leather book sitting where her alarm clock would normally be.

Bilbo, mind still muggy with sleep, flipped through the pages of the book. It wasn't really a book, there wasn't any writing in it; it was more of a journal, waiting for someone to write in it. Bilbo pulled herself out of bed, if she couldn't tell what time it was exactly than she needed to try and get up and get ready for her day anyway. She rubbed her eyes, breaking through the eye gunk that had settled in the corners overnight. She tugged on her dressing gown, tying it before she stepped outside her bedroom door, yawned and then headed for the kitchen.

Passing by her sitting room, Bilbo stopped. Arrested in her tracks, she could only stare at the room, the contract on the table. Everything from last night rushed back to her. Reading the little red book and finding herself suddenly not in Devon anymore, the dwarves who had mysteriously shown up at her front door, and the batty old family friend, Gandalf, who had joined them. She hadn't thought she would wake up in the morning as a Hobbit but now that she had Bilbo couldn't help but feel the eerie silence of the hobbit hole pressing in on her. Though it was a nice hole, with indoor plumbing and no worms in the corners, there was still something missing- people.

Hobbits weren't solitary creatures. They thrived with others. And here she was by her lonesome in the Shire.

Bilbo stood from a moment, staring down at the contract and all that it entailed. One mad adventure, with characters in story that she was writing so she would have an idea of what was going on at least, and whether she came back from it was still an unknown; there was one certainty though, Gandalf had assured her of, she wouldn't be the same if she returned.

Notes:

[1] The Heirs of Durin isn't the same as the Hobbit. Think of it like no Bilbo and no Gandalf. So no Beorn and skipping the Goblins and they skirt Mirkwood. Which will be discussed in later chapters because Bilbo doesn't know all the events.

[2] Yes Bilbo's childhood adventures are from Tolkien's work.

[3] Some dialogue is directly pulled from Tolkien and from the Movie. I own neither of these. However I will take a few liberties because this is a different Bilbo, modern!Bilbo.

[4] The red book is meant to mimic the one we see Bilbo writing in but I tweaked its appearance for the purposes of this story.

So this is the first chapter, thought I might try my hand at this, if anyone is willing to beta and help me with this that would be awesome and much appreciated.

If you want to follow me I am theshinylizard on tumblr.