Here's the new story I promised (I think) :)

Bilbo felt sick.

Sick of this quest.

Sick of running for his life

Sick of risking his life.

Sick of…dwarves.

It was the morning after the eagles had deposited them on the large rock shaped like a bear. They had made their way down the steep slope, and set up camp at the foot of the rock.

Since saving his life, Thorin had been especially kind to him, not like the usual, grumpy self Bilbo had to put up with every time he was around. He had even given him a hug! Hugs were a sign of affection and deep friendship in the Shire.

But apparently, they were signs of affection in Ered Luin as well.

When they had hugged, he heard a couple of dwarves gasping. Fili and Kili were sniggering behind their hands, as Gandalf watched with an amused twinkle in his eye. He wanted to turn around and irritably tell them off, but he decided at the last moment it would've probably have been no use.

He had woken up quite late this morning. The sun bore down on him. He was feeling quite heated, and his head felt unusually tight.

When he picked his way through the busy dwarves to get to Bombur's breakfast stew, he noticed the dwarves giving him looks. Every now and then, he heard a soft titter.

Really? He thought impatiently. Can't they get over the fact that their leader just hugged their burglar? He thought about it himself for a moment.

Probably not, he decided. Even I would've found it strange.

Still, the looks and the quiet laughs did not stop. Everywhere he went, he would receive a bizarre look. He couldn't take it anymore. He marched up to Thorin, who was brooding on a small rock.

"What is happening?" he demanded. "Why is it that everywhere I go, I am receiving peculiar looks as if I've sprouted rabbit ears!"

He could see that Thorin was trying to fight back laughter. Not him too! "I'd suggest you go down to the river." He pointed into the trees. "It's not far from here."

With that answer, Bilbo turned on his heel and strode into the direction where Thorin was pointing.

I'll see what all the fuss is about, he thought angrily. And I'll end it once and for all! He peered down into the river, and got the fright of his life.

My hair, he thought. My beautiful hair.

Someone, while he slept, had tightly braided his hair so that it was stretched against his head. He held his hand up and ran his finger along the bumpy surface of the braid. How did I not feel this as I slept?

He ran back to the camp. The dwarves looked up as he burst through the trees, panting. He jabbed an angry finger at his hair.

"Who did this!?" he demanded furiously. "Who braided my hair!?"

He didn't even need to ask who did it. The look on their faces gave them away. Bilbo marched over to the culprits, intending to interrogate them.

"Why did you do this?" he asked, glowering down at the brothers. They shrank under his hot glare.

"W-we assumed that you'd like it." Kili stammered nervously. "Since you're officially part of the Company now."

"No you didn't." he fumed. "You did it to ridicule me!"

"What?" Confusion stretched over Fili's face. "Braiding is an essential part of bonding in dwarvish culture!"

These were the last words that Bilbo wanted to hear. He stormed off in a rage.

"Bilbo!" Balin shouted. "Where are you going?"

"Somewhere!" Bilbo yelled the words over his shoulder. "I've got to get away from you forsaken dwarves!"

He blindly stomped through the bushes and trees. Soon, he began to tire. Finally reaching an upturned tree, he sat down, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He heard a swishing behind him, as a very familiar figure sat down next to him.

"My dear Bilbo." Gandalf murmured sympathetically. "What on earth is the matter?" He repeated the words he had said to Bilbo many days ago in Bag End.

Bilbo took a deep breath to calm himself. "I am surrounded by dwarves. Very irresponsible, they are. Did you see what they did there?"

Gandalf nodded, as he took out his pipe and began smoking. "Indeed, I did."

"They're mocking me, these dwarves!" he seethed. "All because I hugged Thorin!"

Gandalf lowered the pipe from his lips. "My dear fellow, you are taking it the wrong way. It's extremely hot today, so everyone is grumpy by this we-"

"I am taking it the right way!" Bilbo yelled. "I-"

"Braiding in dwarvish culture is a sign of closeness and friendship." Gandalf interrupted.

Bilbo stopped mid-sentence, gazing at the wizard. "I-I-I- thought it meant love and marriage." he stuttered in surprise.

"It may in the Shire." Gandalf replied calmly. "But Fili and Kili did it for you, because it meant they welcomed you fully, and they didn't tell you because they wanted to surprise you. Braids have different meanings in dwarvish culture."

Bilbo thought about this for a moment. Do they really accept me?

"Then…" he said after a while. "Why did they give me funny looks when I walked around? Surely Fili and Kili must've told them."

Gandalf looked at him, shocked. "Well…ummm…"

His suspicions were confirmed. "I knew it!" he shrieked. "They'll never accept me! Not even to wear their braids proudly, as if I was one of them!"

"Bilbo, I-"Gandalf started, but Bilbo cut him off.

"Braids have special meanings, do they?" he shouted. "Did my braids mean 'love and marriage'?" When Gandalf didn't answer, he lost it.

"They think I'm in love with Thorin!" he screeched, astonished to hear himself like this. "Just because I hugged him!"

"Bilbo!" Gandalf suddenly roared. "Enough of this nonsense!"

"Enough of your nonsense!" Bilbo shot back, and instantly clapped a hand over his mouth in surprise. Burning with shame, he fled into the trees.

"Bilbo!" he heard Gandalf shout after him, but he kept on running.

No, no, no. He thought, as he thoughtlessly raced through the bushes. As he went, he undid the braids that were weaved so tightly. His eyes filled with tears as he painfully wrenched his hair out of the braids.

How would they know if I loved Thorin? He thought numbly, as the last strand of hair was pulled from the braid. His brown, mousy hair hung around his face in limp locks.

I don't though. We're just really good friends.

He thrust his way through a bush, the sharp brambles tugging at his worn clothes.

I can't go back. He thought in despair. Not in this state.

Suddenly, a wind swept through the trees, eerily rattling the branches and almost knocking Bilbo over. He stopped under the branches of an oak and hunched down, wrapping his arms around him to protect himself.

I wish my friends were here, he thought. Why?

The wind grew stronger, threatening to push the trees over. A roaring filled his ears, and he felt as if he was falling through the air. Suddenly, a rock collided with his head, and spots danced in front of his eyes.

What's happening? "Thorin! Gandalf! Kili!" he shouted in despair, before darkness overtook him. In his state of unconsciousness, he felt as if he was being pulled in different directions, unseen forces grabbing at his clothes.

Am I dying? He thought. Is this what dying feels like? He saw a spot of light, and ran towards it. It flooded his vision, blinding him. Then darkness slammed down onto his eyes.

Suddenly, he felt himself under warm blankets.

I'm in a bed. He thought confusedly. But whose? He opened his eyes and gasped.

He was in a large, quiet room, with white walls and a white, shiny floor. Beds lined the walls, much like the one he was in. He threw off the blankets- gone were the tattered green shirt and the red, slimy waistcoat with the missing gold buttons. Instead, he was wearing a plain white shirt with the sleeves cut off before the elbow, and blue pants made of a hard material.

Jeans. He rolled the strange word in his mouth. He didn't know how, but he knew that the pants he was wearing were called jeans.

Where am I? He thought in wonder. He spied a handheld mirror on the bedside table. He quickly grabbed it, and held it in front of his face, where he got the shock of his life, even more shocking than before.

It's my face! He shouted in his head. But…different.

He still had his normal hair, but it framed his face in luscious, brown, curly locks. Some of the lines that used to be in his face had disappeared, making his face look smooth.

I'm younger! He thought with excitement. But how? And why am I here?

He swung his legs over the side of the bed to have a look at his feet. With a disappointed pang, he found that they were hairless, and small

Just like a man, he thought. There were some shoes at the foot of his bed. They were black, with a high neck and thick, white laces. They looked about his size.

Converse shoes. Another strange word.

I'll have to find out sooner or later. He slipped a foot into one of the shoes.

These feel uncomfortable! Why on earth would I wear these?

"That is the wrong foot." A deep gravelly voice sounded around the room. Bilbo looked up from his feet to see a tall man with short, grey hair. He was wearing a grey, pinstripe suit. He looked familiar, but Bilbo couldn't quite place it.

"Ummm…" He sneaked a peek out of the window next to him, though he wasn't entirely sure. "Good morning." he said hesitantly.

"What do you mean?" the stranger replied. "Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you feel good this particular morning or that this is a morning to be good on?"

Bilbo just stared at him, gaping.

"It's the afternoon, by the way." the stranger added.

"…I'm sorry, what did you mean by the 'wrong foot'?" Bilbo asked, his jaws open in shock. He felt like a goldfish.

"What I meant by that, Bill, is that your foot goes into the other shoe, not the one you are currently trying to shove into at the moment."

Blushing, Bilbo wrenched his foot out of the uncomfortable shoe, and placed it in the other one, where it fit snugly. He fumbled with the laces, as he tied it into a knot he had never seen before. His hands had just worked instinctively, looping the white lace together.

"Now," said the stranger as he did the other shoe. "Do you remember anything, Bill?"

Bilbo looked up from his shoe, as he finished tying it. "I do know who you are, Gandalf."

The wizard in disguise laughed. "I knew you'd remember!"

"But…why am I here?" Bilbo tipped his head, feeling utterly confused.

Gandalf stopped laughing and looked at the transformed hobbit. "You are here because you need to be grateful for your friends. In here, you will learn the true meaning of friendship, and that it should not be lightly tossed aside. I have sent you," He threw an arm at his surroundings. "To an alternate universe. There are many of these, you know." He turned, and began to walk away.

"Gandalf!" He turned around to look at Bilbo. "Where is everyone? And where am I?"

Gandalf chuckled. "They're here, with you. Your memories will come soon enough. In fact, they're already here, judging by the way you tied your shoelaces."

"What memories!?" Bilbo cried. Suddenly, an invisible force collided with his head, as darkness clouded his vision for the second time in the space of something like five minutes.

Comments? Criticism? Both are welcome!

BTW, there are no M/M ships in this, whatever you think! It may be implied in this chapter, but there is none. Just making it clear :)