Within an hour, my email was positively FLOODED with responses to Chapter 1! You lovely people are just fantastic. *mwah* Trekky loves you!

Disclaimer: The Hobbit belongs to the wonderful Mr JRR Tolkien. Only Lillibelle is mine.

Chapter 2

It was some time later that Bilbo regained consciousness. Gandalf handed him a warm mug of tea. "I'll be alright," he assured. "Just let me sit quietly for a minute."

"You've been sitting quietly for far too long," said the wizard. "Tell me; when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a young hobbit who was always running off in search of elves and the woods, who'd stay out late, come home after dark, trailing mug and twigs and fireflies. A young hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what lies beyond the borders of the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps. It's out there." He gestured out the window at the green hills and endless skies.

"I can't just go running off," he said softly. "I am a Baggins of Bag End."

"You're also a Took," countered the wizard. "I needn't tell you of the great things your great-great-great-great-uncle Bullroarer Took did in battle, for you've recounted those tales time and time again to your daughter. She looks up to you, Bilbo Baggins, and by sitting around, letting the world pass you by, you are telling her that her dreams are unattainable and to be forgotten."

"What do you know of her dreams?" asked Bilbo, not in anger but with actual curiosity.

"I know that she is very much like you were. I know that she longs to see the world, and that this quest could be just what she needs. What you both need."

There was a long pause. "Can you promise we will come back?"

"No," answered the man seriously. "And if you do, you will not be the same."

"That's what I thought," stated Bilbo, rising. "Sorry, Gandalf, I cannot sign this. You've got the wrong hobbit."

"Papa…" Bilbo turned to see Lillibelle standing at the door. "Please. Don't send them away. They might be able to give me answers! This could be my only chance." It broke Bilbo's heart to see tears in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

"I'm sorry, Lilli." With that, he walked out. The tears began to fall. Lilli covered her face, body shaking with silent sobs.

"There there, dear girl," comforted Gandalf, taking the girl in his arms. "Everything will be alright."

"B-But Gand-d-dalf, he said we're not-"

His careworn face smiled down at her softly. "Shhh. Breathe, dear one. You have my word that everything will work out in the end."

It was music that kept Lilibelle from dreaming that night, haunting melodies interweaving that seemed to touch a part of her soul. From her emerald eyes fell a single tear. Bilbo sat awake in his room, listening as well. Even he, who was not of the dwarven race, was deeply touched by their song.

Far over the misty mountains cold

to dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day

to find our long-forgotten gold

The pines were roaring on the height

and winds were moaning in the night

The fire was red, it flaming spread

The trees, like torches, blazed with light

Bilbo awoke the next morning to cheerful birdsongs and warm sunbeams. Oh how he longed to stay in bed for just a bit longer- but wait! What of the dwarves? Quickly throwing on his robe, he crept out into the halls, looking for any sign of life. He found none. "Hello?" he called out for good measure. Receiving no response, he continues gazing into rooms, honestly beginning to hope for a response, for a guest to still be there. There was something very sad about the quiet, something very lonely. Bilbo hadn't felt this lonely in years, and why would he? He had Lillibelle, after all.

Letting out a sigh, he turned to go back to bed when something caught his eye. On the table was a piece of paper - the contract, with Thorin and Balin's signatures already adorning it. Below were two blank spaces, meant for the Bagginses of course. He pursed his lips, and something Tookish swelled inside of him. This thing, this force, called out for adventure, for travel. It yearned to possess great stories for telling, and to explore the world as he never had before. "Oh bother," he muttered, changing course from his room to that of his daughter. He opened the great wooden door to see Lillibelle laying on her side, stuffed toy rabbit under her arm. Her room was the brightest in all of Bag End, looking out onto the hills and the Grainlin family flower garden. Sketches were pinned on each of the green walls. Most were done by her various friends, but a few were done by Lillibelle herself. A sketch of she and Bilbo sat above her desk, encased in a wooden frame. Bilbo walked up to the bed and began shaking her gently. "Lillibelle… Come on inzil, wake up."

Lilli groaned, curling in on herself. "Don't wanna get up."

"Lillibelle, we're going to be late! Wake up!"

"Late for what?" she asked groggily.

"For the adventure!" As you can imagine, it wasn't too hard to get Lilli up after that! Not a half hour later, the pair were dressed, packed, and running down the hills of the Shire. Neighbors, for the most part, rolled their eyes. Some looked over in curiousity.

"Hey Bilbo! Lilli! Where are you off to?"

"Can't stop! We're already late!" shouted Bilbo.

"Late for what?"

"We're going on an adventure!" whooped Lillibelle.

The dwarves were riding through a wooded area on their respective equestrian animals when the Bagginses caught up. "Wait! Wait!" Thorin gave a shout for the horses to halt. The out of breathe pair skidded to a halt beside Balin. "We signed it," smiled Lillibelle.

Balin glanced over it. "Everything appears to be in order. Welcome to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield." All the dwarves but Thorin cheered. "Give them a pony."

"No no no that-that won't be necessary, thank you, but I-I'm sure we can keep up on foot," said Bilbo. As Bilbo stuttered out excuses, much to his daughter's embarrassment, two of the dwarves rode up behind them. They swiftly grabbed the pair by the shirt collars and deposited them on a pony.

"Perhaps I should sit in front, Papa? Seeing as how I'm taller," teased Lillibelle.

"Oh hush, you," grumbled Bilbo in response. He padded his pockets. Lilli's face turned scarlet with embarrassment as Bilbo stopped the group to return for a handkerchief. 'Really, Papa?' she thought. 'A handkerchief?"

"You'll have to manage without pocket handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach our journey's end," said Gandalf. "You were born in the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire, but home is now behind you. The world is ahead."

The first day of the journey came and went. Once night had fallen over the world, did the company make camp on a cliff. A fire was begun, and meals were had. Bilbo felt very out of place, having never experienced this sort of adventure before. He's gone exploring as a young hobbit, sure, but this? This was all new. Meanwhile, Lilli was excited to help with whatever she could, which wound up being food preparation. More than once did her hair nearly end up in the food. "Oh bother," she grumbled. "Give me just a moment." Sitting down crosslegged, she quickly undid the messy braid that she had put up in haste before leaving Bag End. Moonlight reflected off the silver beads in her hair, making her almost sparkle. The dwarves all stopped to watch her, but Lillibelle was oblivious. With acquired skill, she took her chestnut locks and braided an intricate pattern down her back. "There. Much better." She was surprised to look up and find all eyes on her. "What? Have I done something wrong?"

"No, lass, nothing wrong," assures Balin. "It's just that- well, in our culture, braiding one's hair can be a very private thing. It's only done in public if absolutely necessary."

"For example, if you know you might be facing a battle at a moment's notice, and your hair is in the way, it is then acceptable," explained Dori.

Lillibelle flushed. "I-I'm sorry if I made you all uncomfortable. I really didn't know."

Dori offered her a smile. "Think nothing of it, lass." She returned to helping Dori with the meal, and the dwarves resumed their own individual task. Thorin glared at Bilbo.

"Have you taught her nothing of her own culture?"

"I-I've taught her what I could find," stuttered Bilbo. "But there's not much out there to be found if you're not a dwarf yourself. You lot are very secretive. The only reason she knows your language at all is because a Dwarven merchant took pity on her."

"So she truly remembers nothing of her old life?" asked Bofur, who had overheard.

"She has flashes here and there, but nothing of substance. Nothing she can hold on to." Bofur frowned at this, but nodded.

"Can I ask something?" ventured Lilli as she brought the men their food. Thorin gave a nod. "The merchant I talked to said that everyone's beads meant different things."

"That's right," said Bofur. "There are beads for all sorts of different things. Great heros are awarded beads that symbolize their feats of heroism. All tradesmen have a bead to show their profession. Everyone has at least one, though. When you're born, your parents give you a bead with your name written on it."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

"Indeed. They're usually the most hidden, however. They serve as identification if a dwarf is severely injured or killed."

"Oh." She looked away disappointed but not defeated. Turning around, she cast her gaze back over her shoulder and asked, "Could you tell me what these mean?"

"Most of these seem to be for show, little lass. Lady Dwarves often will wear colored beads for decoration. They mean nothing." Her face fell. "But that doesn't mean they're all for naught. May I?" She nodded, and Bofur carefully thumbed at a couple beads nestled higher up in her hair. "This one says... you were born in the Blue Mountains."

She whirled around, eyes shining. "Really?"

Bofur laughed. "Truly, lass. I could look for more if you'd-"

"Lassie! Get back over here! The food is getting cold," shouted Dori.

"Later?" pleaded Lilli.

"Later," grinned Bofur. His eyes stayed on her retreating figure as his mind raced.

By the time the moon was high in the sky, most were fast asleep. Sleep alluded poor Bilbo, however, for the company snored louder than thunder. Finding solace with Myrtle, Bilbo stayed near the horse for a few minutes, petting her mane. An inhuman howl cut through the night, waking the young princes, as well as Miss Baggins.

"What was that?" asked a frightened Bilbo.

"Orcs," answered Kili. The very word made Thorin jerk awake.

"Orcs?"

"Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them," explained Fili.

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep," whispered Kili. "Quick and quiet. No screams. Just lots of blood." Bilbo and his daughter caught eyes, terrified. The twins also met eyes, but instead started snickering.

"You think it's funny?" demanded Thorin. "You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"

"We didn't mean anything by it," said Kili, looking sufficiently chastised.

"No you didn't," spat Thorin. "You know nothing of the world." He walked off toward the edge to look out on the valley.

"Don't mind him, lad," said Balin to Bilbo. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarven kingdom of Moria. But our enemy got there first. Moria has been taken by a legion of orcs led by the most vile of their race: Azog the Defiler. The great Gundabad orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the king." Lillibelle's gaze turned to Thorin. How young he must have been… Her heart went out to him.

"Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad with grief. He went missing - taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. And then I saw him: a young dwarf prince, facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield… Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken." This brought the smallest of smiles to the twins' faces.

"Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast, no song, for that night, our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And then I thought to myself, 'There is one I could follow. There is one I could call King'." All dwarves were awake by now, and when Thorin turned back to face them, he was met with looks of awe.

"And the Pale Orc?" asked Lillibelle. "What happened to him?"

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago." Bilbo noted the looks of scepticism traded between Balin and Gandalf, but said nothing.

"Azog," Lilli whispered to no one in particular. A tingle shot up her spine as her vision blurred. The campsite faded out as a dark valley emerged before her eyes. Objects afire were flying through the air in great numbers… 'Pinecones? Why would pinecones be on fire?' she thought. As she looked out, angry orcs met her gaze. At the head of the pack was an orc taller than the rest. Running across his face were jagged scars. The orcs snarled something in their native tongue, and her stomach dropped. Death was waiting, and it would not be painless.

Something shook her gently. "Lilli?" Bilbo whispered, eyes wrinkled with concern. The smell of the campfire and the symphony of crickets helped ground her back in reality.

"I'm fine, Papa," she whispered, brushing his hands from her shoulders. "Try and get some sleep."

Bilbo would not be brushed off so easily. "You had another one, didn't you?"

She pursed her lips before nodding slowly. "Yeah, I had another one."

A/N: inzil = flower [in Khuzdul]

A short chapter, I know. However, if you know the plot of the book/movie, you know what's coming next ;)

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