The warm sunlight hit her face. Bilba laughed and spread her arms wide out, twirling around and enjoying the light spring breeze as it tousled her dirty, unkempt hair. It was a beautiful day, birds chirping, the heavy scent of lavender in the air, and, more importantly, the smell of freshly baked bread.

Bilba gave one last mighty inhale, and then started to walk home. Her trousers had grass stains and even clumps of dirt smeared into them. She looked as if she'd been rolling around in the grass, which she had been. Twigs and leaves stuck out of the once neat plait her mother braided for her just before she left the smial that morning.

"Bilba Baggins," her father scolded as soon as she walked into Bag End. He was clearly on his way out, pipe in hand. "You're an absolute mess!"

"Oh, leave her be, Bungo," her mother defended, a wide smile spread across her lips. "She looks like she's had a right proper adventure!"

Bilba laughed and nodded her head vigorously. "I fought a dragon!" she cries, extending her arm as if she were wielding a sword. "With an army!"

"Oh really?" Belladonna pulled out a handkerchief and started rubbing the dirt and sweat from Bilba's face, but only succeeding in smearing the dirt. "And was this army successful?"

"Of course, she was," Bungo scoffed. He pursed his lips as he took the handkerchief from his wife and went about cleaning her up properly. His face was stern, but his eyes were soft, twinkling. Regardless of his own respectability and ideals of being a proper gentlehobbit, Bungo had always been indulgent with his family. And if that meant listening to Bilba's silly little tales about dragons and elves, well, it was better than dealing with Camelia Bracegirdle.

"We were amazing," Bilba agreed, and she laughed as her father gently tweaked her nose. "That dragon didn't have a chance against us!"

Belladonna laughed brightly, and Bungo stared at her face with a soft, mesmerized expression. "Well, I've made a fresh loaf of bread, so why don't you go get cleaned up and into that nice dress your father bought for you? We'll enjoy a nice slice for tea!"

Bungo placed a loving kiss on the side of Belladonna's head. "While Bilba cleans up, won't you join me for some Old Toby?"

Belladonna blushed and giggled and grabbed her own pipe.

Bilba rolled her eyes and headed towards the washroom. Her parents could be gross sometimes, but honestly, seeing how much they still loved each other just made her feel happy. She didn't think life could get any better.

By the time she finished washing up, her parents are already at the table, four places set. Bilba didn't know they were expecting a visitor. There are thick slices of honeyed bread on plates, and also smoked ham, some fresh fruit, and some nice chamomile tea to wash it down.

"You look so wonderful," Belladonna said, her eyes getting a little misty. "Oh, Bungo, look how much she's grown! Why, soon enough she'll be courting, and then she'll be married, and then…and then she'll…she'll be out of the house…with her own children…" She sniffled.

Bungo patted his wife's hand indulgently. Belladonna occasionally got in these fits where she insisted that Bilba was growing up too fast, not that Bilba had any kind of say in it, and he always had to be the calm, level-headed one.

He opened his mouth and spoke, his tone warm and comforting, "My dear, it will be many years before we even give that a thought."

Before Belladonna could respond, there was a knock on the door. "I'll get it," Bilba offered.

When she opened the door, she paused. The person at the door wasn't a hobbit, but a dwarf! He was speaking to her, but his words didn't make any sense. He was speaking a different language altogether.

His voice was different than hobbits. It was deeper, guttural, and when he spoke these strange words, it was almost as if he were singing them.

The dwarf was broad, muscular, and he had a long, thick beard. His face was scarred, and his hair was past his shoulders. He wore armor, a steel chest plate, leather vambraces with spikes, a large shield on his back, and a sharp sword at his side.

He looked fierce, like a warrior, but Bilba didn't feel afraid. The dwarf gently grabbed her hand, and together they walked back to the dining room.

Her parents stood up at the sight of the dwarf, but they were smiling, tears in their eyes, and, to Bilba's surprise, Bungo bowed until he was parallel with the floor and Belladonna curtsied deeply. "Thank you," they said, their voices thick and warm with gratitude and relief. "Thank you so much."

Bilba frowned, confused. "What's going on?" she asked.

Belladonna turned to her and her smile softened even more. "Let's not worry about that," she said gently. "Let's just…let's just enjoy our time together, okay?"

Bungo cleared his throat and began pouring the tea.

The dwarf murmured something in that foreign language of his again, and then tea commenced as normal. The atmosphere was comfortable, and her parents spoke with the dwarf as if they could understand his language, which was simply bizarre to Bilba because she knew the only other languages spoken besides Hobbitish and Westron was Sindarin.

But they spoke with the dwarf as if he were an old friend, as if he had done them a great favor, and so Bilba ignored the bizarreness of the meal and simply enjoyed it.

Bilba slowly came out of the haze of sleep, half-expecting to smell bread, chamomile, and smoked ham. She was in her room wrapped in the warmest blanket her mother crocheted for her. Cold still seeped into her bones, and her body shivered ever so slightly.

With a yawn, Bilba stood up. She wrapped the blanket around herself and shambled out of her room. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and it was only the fact that she'd lived in Bag End her entire life that stopped her from face-planting into the walls. Quiet murmuring could be heard coming from the kitchen, and she followed the sound.

The voices were distinctively male, and it made her confused. Did her father have company? She looked at what she was wearing; she wasn't exactly dressed with company in mind, but she wasn't indecent so she carried on.

When she turned into the kitchen, she stopped cold. Seated at the table was Gandalf, looking so very old and weathered, robes slightly stained with smudges of black, his hat drooping even more than usual, and next to him was an old dwarf, scarred but tidy-looking, uttering words in his deep, guttural language.

Bilba's eyes widened as the memories of yesterday flooded into her, and she gasped in horror, her hand flying to her mouth.

Gandalf turned to her and stood, his eyes sad and wet, and he opened his arms. "My dear Bilba," he whispered.

It was like everything hit her at once, and Bilba ran into his arms, the blanket falling off, crying as hot tears slid down her frosty cheeks. She sobbed, clutching at his tattered robes, and her knees wobbled weakly.

"Mama," she moaned in anguish, shaking her head. "They killed Mama!"

"I know, my dear," Gandalf murmured, running his hands gently through her hair.

"And Papa, too," she babbled. "They're gone! They're both dead!"

Bilba coughed, choking on her sobs, and wished more than anything that this was some awful nightmare that she could wake up from. Her stomach churned and flopped, and for a moment she thought she was going to be sick all over Gandalf's robes. It was the sheer horror she felt at that possibility that stopped her from emptying her already pitiful stomach contents.

Eventually, her cries stop, and the only evidence that remained were her hiccups. Her eyes were red and swollen, and it pained her to touch them.

"I will miss my friends very dearly," Gandalf said quietly, "but I am so very thankful that you are alive, my dear."

Bilba sniffled. "I almost died," she croaked, shivering violently. Gandalf led her to a chair, grabbed the abandoned blanket, and wrapped it around her. She snuggled into it, burying her face in the warm, plush yarn. It smelled faintly of lavender and chamomile, her father's favorite plant and her mother's favorite tea.

The dwarf grumbled again, and Bilba turned to him. She can vaguely recall him comforting her yesterday, can remember him saving her life, and she can't help but feel so indebted to him.

"He says you fought honorably yesterday," Gandalf translated.

Bilba gasped. "You understand his language?"

Gandalf laughed shortly, and the sound chased away some of the darkness that seemed to cling to the corners of his eyes. "My dear, there are not many languages that I am unable to understand."

Bilba blushed slightly. "I didn't mean to be rude," she muttered.

Gandalf patted her head with a small smile. "You were not," he assured her. "Thráin here is speaking the dwarrow language Khuzdul. It is a secret language taught to very few."

"It's a beautiful language," Bilba said. She frowned a little. "I don't feel like I found honorably," she admitted shamefully, and blinked away tears. "I didn't even really help anyone. I just…I was useless…"

Gandalf moved his hands to form signs, and the dwarf watched him attentively. Thráin frowned a little and spoke again, and Gandalf dutifully translated. "There is great honor in fighting to protect your people, regardless of skill level." Gandalf nodded his head and added, "He is right, my dear. I wish you had not been on the battlefield last night, since you are so young and untrained, but you have a fierce heart, and courage beyond your years. Do not lose that, Bilba."

Bilba sighed and wiped away the few tears that escaped. "Thank you," she whispered. Even though she did not agree with their words, her parents had taught her manners.

A small silence descended upon the kitchen again, not as heavy as it was earlier. With a deep breath, Bilba stood up and ambled her way to the cold pantry. She grabbed some of the canned fruits and the dried meats, and quickly plated them.

Gandalf tried to protest the food, but Bilba firmly stated, "You are my guest, Gandalf, and you are surely tired from yesterday's battle. You need to eat and replenish your strength."

Thráin merely accepted the food, grunted what she supposed was an expression of gratitude in Khuzdul, and he also made a weird looking hand sign. He dug into the food with gusto, and it was gone in mere minutes. Bilba stood to get him some more, but he grabbed her wrist to stop her.

She startled a little, looked at him with obvious confusion in her eyes. "Did you…not want more?"

Gandalf spoke up, "The food is quite delicious, but it is very rich, and he has been without food for some time. Eating more would be unwise."

Bilba gasped in understanding. "Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized.

Gandalf and Thráin both waved her off. She sat again, nibbled the dried meat half-heartedly. She was actually a bit hungry, but her stomach was still rebelling, and she just didn't really feel up to eating. (And wasn't that something? A hobbit not in the mood to eat?)

"Thank you for the meal," Gandalf said contentedly. He smiled at her briefly as he patted his mouth with a handkerchief, and then his lips pressed together in a serious line. "I'm afraid I will be needing to leave shortly."

"Leave?" Bilba whispered, her heart beating wildly in her chest as her eyes darted from him to the boarded-up window.

Gandalf nodded. "I will be aiding the rangers in securing the borders," he explained. "The orcs have done a lot of damage, and we will be working to make the Shire safe again."

Bilba swallowed thickly and shivered as the thought of sharp, bloodied teeth penetrated her mind. "I understand," she said quietly, and she did. She really did. Bilba knew she wasn't the only one suffering, the only one affected by the orcs.

But that didn't stop her from already feeling lonely.

A/N: So...it's been a while. I do apologize for that; I hadn't intended to take such a long time getting this done. Now, I'm not going to say that I'll be updating ever few days like I have been with my current project through all the hard times, but I do plan on not taking another four years. I do have an idea as to where I want to take this, and I have the next chapter started, but I work full-time and I also attend university full-time. Anyways, please review and let me know what you think!