The sounds of singing birds and chirping grasshoppers was all that was known to the group in the moment, and it was then that Izzy realized the voice stopped its narration.

Like an answer, Izzy picked up a small stone and dropped it cleanly into the flowing river.

Suddenly, just to there right a drunken little man stumbled bare foot out of a pub: "The Green Dragon" it was called.

The little man took one long confused and frightened stare at them before ducking back into the pub, accompanied with the sounds of slow-witted laughter.

"Don't you remember what the voice said: 'in a land far to the east'," Sunny spoke.

Izzy pointed a hoof to a tall-looking man dressed in a gray cloak, matching gray pointed hat, and walking unsuspectingly with a long wooden staff. Sunny felt a vast amount of power invisibly emitting from him, more so it was an overcoming sensation, as well as to blindly follow where his steps led.

The others closely followed Sunny as she closely followed behind the old and gray-bearded stranger. He never looked back, but kept strolling up the hills from the backroads, passing by the hole-houses (hobbit-homes Sunny thought), until he came upon what she figured to be another hobbit: a middle-aged fellow in a bright waistcoat, suspended trousers, white buttoned-down shirt, still no shoes, curly haired, and smoking rings from a long wooden smoking pipe. The old man halted before the hobbit, to whom he looked up to his face, the ponies ducking behind out of sight, but not earshot.

"What do you mean?" the stranger replied. "Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not?"

"Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning," the old man continued, undaunted. "Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"

"All of them at once, I suppose," the hobbit replied, still confused. "Can I help you?"

The hobbit simply raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "An adventure?" he amused. "Well I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interests in adventures." He then got up and went to collect his morning mail. "Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner."

"Why does that sound familiar, eh?" Pipp amused, turning to face her sister. Hitch could only laugh from inside.

"Well, good morning," the hobbit said while he made for his door, after checking his mail.

"To think I have lived to have been 'good morninged' by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!" the old man exclaimed, which stopped the hobbit in his tracks.

"Well you know my name, although you don't remember that I belong to it. I'm Gandalf, and Gandalf means...me."

This finally caught Bilbo's attention. "Gandalf? Not Gandalf the wandering wizard who used to make such excellent fireworks?! The Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve! No idea you were still in business!" he chuckled.

"Where else-?" Bilbo caught his words in his mouth, unsure if what he would have said would be rude.

Gandalf eyed Bilbo as he took a few more whiffs from his pipe. "Well I'm pleased to find you remember something about me, even if it is my fireworks." He then nodded, catching his staff. "Yes, well, it's decided. It'll be good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others."

Bilbo looked puzzled at first, but once he realized the seriousness it was his turn to stop Gandalf in his tracks. "Inform the who? What? No! No! N...wait! We don't want any adventures here thank you! Not today or...I suggest you try over the hill, or across the water. Good morning!" and he meant it, before hastily rushing to close his front door behind him.

That would have been the end of it, but then Gandalf inscribed some sort of insignia onto the dark green door of Bag End, peered inside the nearest window, before he finally strolled off into the distance.

"SHH!" Hitch cried before dragging her back behind the bluff as Bilbo then emerged carrying a fish basket and wearing a blue coat. He looked around, before uneasily heading down the road to the market.

He was abnormally unhappy, especially for being the master of Bag End, though not enough to daunt him from his errand, that being a collection of more fish.

"'Ello Mr. Bilbo!" a hobbit farmer called him over. "'Ere, 'ave a few of me tubers! Nice and firm they are! Just come in from West Farthing!"

"Very impressive Mr. Worrywart," Bilbo hastily replied. "I-I-I don't suppose you've seen a wizard around these parts?"

"Tall fellow," Worrywart replied, "long gray bearded, and pointed hat. Can't say I 'ave."

Bilbo was not really paying much attention to the reply, for he had caught a glimpse of a pointed gray towering above the market stands. Instead, it happed to be a misshapen pillow case on top of another hobbit's laundry. He sighed an uneasy relief, only to catch voices naming him, a slip on the bricks before an accompanied splash beneath the market bridge. He looked over, only to catch the remainder of the ripples before making a beeline for Bag End.

Unfortunately however, a purple-looking pony with a disheveled light-blue mane and tail and a small horn atop her forehead stood right before the door.

Bilbo stood at a complete loss for words, before turning to see another set of four ponies coming up from the main path, one of which was fully drenched.

When he came to he was sat on a chair in the main entryway of his house. His memories were almost all passing blurs: he was sat outside his house smoking when Gandalf appeared with the offer of an adventure, then he retreated back inside while hearing something clawing against the wood, after which he ventured to the market to collect some fish, and finally coming face-to-face with a purplish pony. It sounded foolish the more he focused on it, until his ears finally caught the sounds of voices.

"Sorry about Izzy, she's just like that," a female voice said. "Are you alright?"

"Sure he is, but what about me?!" another voice cried, also female. "I'm completely soaked!"

At last his vision cleared up, only for the focus to be an orangish pony with a braided magenta mane staring back at him. Immediately he jumped and rushed backwards in shock, only to trip on his back after colliding and falling over a yellow furred and turquoise maned pony, this time male.

"My apologies," the pony stallion began. "Sorry about all this business. First of all, we can talk and understand languages, and second let me introduce us. I'm Hitch Trailblazer, this is Sunny Starscout, the pegasi are sisters Zipp Storm and Pipp Petals, and the unicorn is Izzy Moonbow."

Now that his visitors introduce themselves, Bilbo began to ease his tension. "Bilbo Baggins, and welcome to Bag End. Pleasure to meet you all."

"The pleasure is ours Bilbo Baggins," Zipp bowed, followed by a still-dripping wet Pipp.

"Wha-? Oh, yes. Yes, just a minute," Bilbo replied before heading off. He soon returned carrying his spare shower-towel wrapped in his right arm. "So uh, where from what brings such fine equines to Bag End?"

"It's a long story but-" Hitch was soon interrupted by a rumble from his stomach. "It's been a long day."

"That's uh, understandable, I think. But, as long as your all here, make yourselves at home. Never let it be said that a Baggins doesn't treat his guests well."

"Well, you're quite the gentlepony...uh, hobbit, aren't you?" Zipp complimented, also hungry. "You live here on your own?"

"I inherited it after my both my parents died, but honestly the Bagginses have always preferred the quiet life. My pantry's just this way, we can talk over dinner."

Bilbo hung his coat on the nearby rack before waltzing behind the ponies to the dining area. He grabbed the freshly bought fish and began to heat up his stove, while the others scoured the more than vast pantry of Bag End.

Hitch's gaze on a fully covered slab of pork meat, his anxiety growing at Pipp's more than unsavory exclamation. The ponies all grabbed plates of fruits and vegetables.

"Well, we come from a land known as Equestria," Sunny explained through bites of pear. "Following a thousand or so years, the three pony tribes split into each of their own isolated culture. Hitch and I grew up with the earth-ponies in Maretime Bay: a seaside town-"

"Where I'm the town sheriff!" Hitch beamed. Bilbo looked to his guest, and humbled his hubris.

Izzy caught his joke while laughing away before explaining about her home in Briddlewood, and how one simple balloon tied letter led her to Maretime Bay where she first met Sunny, and by extent Hitch. Zipp then talked about how she and Pipp were raised in the royal family in the pegasi populace of Zephyr Heights, and how them and their mother, Queen Haven, lied to the population by faking their abilities to fly; having lost the magic of flight long ago.

"-but after meeting the others, and various hijinks, we brought back the magic to our world."

"You mean-" Sunny quickly silenced Izzy before she was close again to spilling beans, this time metaphorically.

"The town of Hobbiton, in the land of the Shire. Home of the hobbits, but how'd you all end up on my doorstep exactly?"

"Well, you see I was exploring the town pawn shop just before closing time and I happen to come across this rather interesting looking book titled There and Back Again, a Hobbit's Tale by one Bilbo Baggins. One thing led to another and the book itself transported us here."

Bilbo had just finished sizzling his fish and had sat down to season. "There and Back Again? Sounds like a good book, though I must confess that it's not at all familiar to me."

"Unless of course there's another hobbit with the same name roaming about the Shier unnoticed," Izzy said through mouthfuls.

"Well, I'm the only Bilbo Baggins I know of, and I've never written a book in my life. Though writing sounds like a good hobby, I've just never had anything to write about."

He was just sprinkling the seasoning on his dinner when he heard the doorbell ring. The others shared his look of confusion.

"No, unless it's who I think it is," Bilbo muttered before heading for the door, followed by Hitch. The visitor turned out not to be the person they expected, but rather a strong-looking bald dwarf, long-brown bearded, dressed in a dark-colored cloak for traveling, and carrying heavy medieval weaponry.

"Bilbo Baggins, at yours," Bilbo replied, regaining his manners in his composure.

"Hitch Trailblazer, sir," Hitch added, doing likewise. "Do uh, do we know each other?"

Dwalin ducked under the doorframe while entering, eyes fixated on the little stallion beside the his little host. "No," he replied gruffly and bluntly.

Hitch just managed to catch Dwalin's as he tossed it back, only by his head and not his hooves.

"He said? Who said?" All the inquiries with the dwarf were only making Bilbo and his other guests more puzzled by the minute, not coupled with how Dwalin never once gave a straight forward answer about anything. He gave only a simple, "Ladies," before sitting himself in Bilbo's and chair and eating away at his just prepared meal, being with his knuckled hands and without Tupperware. Without much thought, Bilbo pulled up an extra chair and sat in the silence broken only from Dwalin's eating, as well as the others.

"What? Oh, yes, yes," Bilbo replied picking up a nearby plate of bread rolls. He took two for himself while giving the rest to Dwalin, who greedily stuffed them one-by-two. The ponies all cringed in surprise.

Suddenly the doorbell rang again, and instantly everyone but Dwalin turned to face down the hall.

Bilbo begrudgingly answered the door, to yet another waiting dwarf, this time much older with a fully white beard, also more wiser looking.

"Yes, yes it is," said his newest visitor. "Though I think it might rain later. Am I late?"

"Late for what?" Bilbo's tolerance was holding on to whatever was left, that being only seven threads. The others were also as confused.

Balin then looked past Bilbo to see Dwalin handling a glass jar of cookies. "Evening brother," he greeted.

"By my beard, you're shorter and wider the last we met!" Dwalin laughed in response.

"Wider, not shorter. Though sharp enough for both of us." And like some unfamiliar greeting tactic after another, they then smacked their foreheads to each other.

"Uh, excuse me? I hate to interrupt, but I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house," Bilbo said, not faring any better.

Soon the dwarves were also rummaging through the pantry, though being less civil and clean about the ordeal; Dwalin was mostly filling a mug.

"It's not that I don't like visitors. I like them as much as the next hobbit, but I do like to know them before the come...visiting. At the very least you could've ask like the others did."

"What's this?" said Dwalin, not registering a hint of the words from his host, and hold a piece of blue cheese.

"I don't know. I think's supposed to be cheese," Balin replied. "It's gone blue."

Izzy then caught it with her magic, or light variation of such, before swallowing it whole without much a second thought.

"Excuse me!" Hitch cried. "Your host is trying to say something to you, and I think you two are being very rude right now to ignore him!"

That got the dwarves attention. "Thank you," Bilbo said. "I hate to be blunt, but I have to speak my mind. I'm sorry."

Bilbo and Hitch were left at a loss for words once again, but just then the doorbell rang. They were greeted by this time a pair of dwarf brothers: one with more blondish hair and braded beard, the other black-haired and stubbled.

"Nope, you can't come in!" Hitch said, rushing to close the door. "You've come to the wrong house!"

"That's a relief." The two then barged inside, leaving Hitch to back away annoyance.

"Careful with these. Just had them sharpened," Fili said while tossing his sword and pack to Bilbo, growing more and more impatient to all the unwelcomed guests.

"No it's been in the family for years," Bilbo replied, before becoming flabbergasted at Kili scraping his boots on a small box. "That's my mother's glory box! Can you please not do that?!"

By now the other ponies were up on their hooves, and trying unsuccessfully to even register themselves with the dwarves.

"Let's shove this into the hallway," Balin said. "Otherwise, we'll never get everyone in."

"How many more are there?" Hitch added, also growing less tolerant. Soon enough, in fact immediately, the doorbell rang again, much to Bilbo's chagrin.

"Oh, no. No, no there's nobody home!" By now he dropped and shoved off the weapons and packs that had been thrusted onto the hallway floor, while Hitch remained respectfully behind. "Go away and bother somebody else! There are far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is! If this is some clot-head's idea of a joke, I can only say it is in very poor taste."

He opened the door, only for eight dwarves all together to pile right onto his front door mat, grumbling like always, and a certain gray bearded and cloaked wizard standing right behind them looking in.

Soon enough, the twelve dwarves, five ponies, and wizard were all clambering through the small hobbit home of Bag End, passing back and forth carrying whatever food was left to the makeshift dining room; Bilbo being the most indignant.

Hitch stuck close to Bilbo as much as he could, even when confronting the dwarf with the wine. Bifur his name was, and because of the axe chip in his forehead he was stuck speaking only in Khuzdul: the dwarven language.

"He's got an injury," said another dwarf behind them; Oin he was, the only professed healer.

"Dead? No, only between his ears. His legs work fine." Oin was also partly deaf without his ear trumpet.

So the ponies were left to fend for themselves when meeting all the new dwarves. Izzy for instance took an amusing liking to Bifur, who tried humorously to speak Khuzdul, and both laughing back to the table.

"A tad excessive, don't you think?" Bilbo said to Bombur, Bifur's cousin and the only decent dwarf cook among the party, also being the heftiest. "Have you got a cheese knife?"

Bilbo spent the remainder of his time either close to screaming his top off, or doing so while attempting to keep his him home intact. "That is a book, not a coaster! Put that map down!"

Sunny was engaged in a conversation with Gloin, Oin's brother. He was discussing his family of his wife and son, and laughing at the pony-isms Sunny kept using. Nori seemed to keep to himself, mostly away from Hitch, while his young brother Ori was silently admiring Pipp's physique, while their eldest brother Dori, a rather pessimistic dwarf was handling a tea tray.

"Oh, no thank you Dori. A little red wine for me, I think. You might try asking Zipp. I think she would appreciate it," Gandalf replied, pointing to the pegasus in question. Zipp was more than understandably confused, but was thankful to Dori's drink.

"Well, thank you," she said. "But I haven't told you my name, so how in Equestria would you know it?"

Gandalf simply made no reply as he stood from the table, colliding his head with one of Bag End's many overhanging chandeliers, all hobbit sized of course. He payed it no mind, instead he counted off the gathered party, minus Bilbo and himself.

"Fili, Kili...Oin, Gloin...Dwalin, Balin...Bifur, Bofur, Bombur...Dori, Nori...Ori...Sunny, Izzy, Pipp, Zipp, Hitch..."

"He is late, is all," Dwalin said, standing by the frame holding a full mug of ale. "He traveled north to a meeting with our kin. He will come."

Hitch overheard this tidbit, and could only guess who this missing dwarf was, before he was startled once again by Izzy.

"Hey Hitch! I think I've got this Dwarvish thing figured out!" She then spoke sloppily in that Dwarvish. "That means 'How do you do?'"

Soon enough, the table was set, full, and stocked with quite literally every ounce of food from Bilbo's not vast enough pantry. The dwarves were delighting themselves with tossing food from one to another.

"Bombur! Catch!" Bofur shouted before tossing an egg right to be caught in Bombur's delightful mouth.

Of the ponies, Izzy was enjoying the most of the dinner, while Hitch shared Bilbo's annoyance and dismay. Zipp even impressed the dwarves by spinning in midair to miss every oncoming scrap of flying food and drink, and landing dry and unscathed. Pipp meanwhile got soaked in the face again, this time from the ale that Oin spit from his eardrum that Dwalin poured. Even Sunny joined in when the dwarves all took a minute to bottoms-up on the ale, with young Ori belching the longest and loudest; Sunny meanwhile plopped her face right into the tomatoes.

Afterwards the dwarves and ponies helped to clear away the dishes, with Bilbo being less than egregious as always.

Bilbo did not drop chagrined state of mind. "What's the matter? I'm surrounded by dwarves. What are they doing here?!"

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering." Hitch was inclined to say it remains to be seen, but held back. "Once you get used to them."

"I don't want to get used to them! Look at the state of my kitchen! There's mud trailing the carpet! Th-they've pillaged the pantry! I'm not even going to tell you what they've done in the bathroom. They've all but destroyed the plumbing. I just don't understand what they're doing in my house!"

Presently Pipp approached Bilbo, dinner plate in hoof. "I'm sorry to interrupt Bilbo, but what should I do with my plate?"

He then tossed right to Kili like it was a baseball, right passed Gandalf, before being thrown yet again to Bifur at the kitchen sink.

"Excuse me! That is my mother's West Farthing crockery! It's over a hundred years old!" Bilbo cried, helpless to the flying plates above his head, and the drumming of his silverware on the dining table.

"Kili: Blunt the knives, bend the forks!

Fili: Smash the bottles, and burn the corks!

Dwarf chorus: Chip the glasses and crack the plates...
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

By now Dwalin began strumming a string instrument, Bofur blowing a wooden flute, and Oin make-shifting with a teapot. Pipp immediately caught with their song, with Hitch bopping to the melody in his chair.

"Chorus: Cut the cloth, tread on the fat!
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!
Pour the milk on the pantry floor...!
Splash the wine on every door!"

Soon, Izzy's joined the chorus, with Zipp and Sunny doing a sort of pony-styled Irish jig.

"Chorus: Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl!
Pound them up with a thumping pole!
And when you're finished if they are whole...
Send then down the hall to roll!"

By now, Hitch joined the singing chorus, but was mostly marveled at Pipp's smooth and bedazzling movements above the rest, while Balin simply rolled his eyes at their foolishness.

"Chorus: That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

Bilbo pushed past the crowd in the kitchen, only to find that every plate, bowl, and cup was neatly cleaned and stacked right in the middle kitchen countertop. Even the ponies found it amusing, not so much Bilbo.

Three loud knocks were heard on the door, and the entire room went completely silent.

This time all the ponies accompanied Bilbo and Gandalf to the door, and on the step was a handsome looking dwarf with black hair and short beard, though some amount of combat seemed to have aged him quickly. The ponies immediately recognized his face, that being the prince of Erebor himself.

"Master Trailblazer," he greeted, not as kindly as Hitch hoped. "Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way. Twice. I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for the mark on the door."

Bilbo looked over his shoulder still incredulous, but turned his attention back to the newest, and what looked to be the final visitor.

"Bilbo Baggins, my little ponies," Gandalf introduced. "Allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield."

Thorin then approached Bilbo, only slightly towering over the hobbit. "So...this is the hobbit. Tell me, Master Baggins. Have you done mush fighting?"

"Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know," he replied, trying to draw up on his feet. "But I fail to see how that's relevant."

Thorin raised an eyebrow, while also turning to face Hitch. "Master Trailblazer, how about yourself and your friends? What's your combat experience?"

The best Hitch could think of was the time they stopped a power hungry Sprout from nearly committing war crimes in a giant battle robot of his own likeness, but he figured that would not hold up before the dwarfs.

"Well, as sheriff of my home town, it is my civic duty to uphold the peace and punish the lawbreakers," he answered, almost sounding more haughty than Thorin.

He was impressed, but not by much. "If need be. Thought as much." He turned to face down Bilbo again. The hobbit looks more like a grocer than a burglar." He then turned to where Pipp was finishing her tea, though Thorin's face looked more intimidating when actually looking down at her. "And the ponies...are not much better."

The dwarves chuckled, Izzy as well until Sunny gave her a glare. Soon, all the dwarves, ponies, Gandalf, this time with Thorin were all seated at the table.

"What news from the meeting at Ered Luin?" Balin asked to Thorin. "Did they all come?"

"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms," Thorin nodded, much to the delight of the other dwarves.

"And what did the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin added. "Is Dain with us?"

"Leader of the dwarves in the Iron Hills," Thorin replied, slightly annoyed. "And my cousin, but they will not come."

"If you're saying that he's your cousin, why won't he come?" Izzy asked, not faring a much better look from Thorin.

Only Bilbo was not seated at the table, to which Gandalf took notice of. "Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light." Bilbo went away to fetch a candle, while Gandalf pulled an old looking map that pictured a mountain. "Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak."

Bilbo returned and looked over Gandalf ad Thorin to read the writing above the mountain's sketch, "'the Lonely Mountain.'"

"Aye," Gloin spoke up. "Oin has read the portents, and the portents say, it is time!"

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as was foretold," Oin added. "'When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast has ended.'"

"Uh...it's a long story," she stammered, looking to see shared faces of her own friends. "More importantly, how did you all know about us?"

"Ah, that would be because of me," Gandalf answered. "I informed them of your coming s o that there wouldn't be any..." he then looked to Izzy "...unnecessary surprises."

"Oh, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities of Our Age," Bofur explained, not understanding Bilbo's plight, which was starting to be shared with Hitch. "Airborne firebreather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat-hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals."

"Yes I...know what a dragon is thank you," Bilbo said, stopping Bofur before it could get worse.

"I think there used to be an entire civilization in the old days of Equestria," Sunny said aloud.

Ori stood up. "I'm not afraid! I'll give 'im a taste of dwarvish iron right up his jacksie!"

"The task would be difficult with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen" Balin spoke up. "And not thirteen of the best. Nor brightest."

"We may be few in number," Fili said. "But we're fighters, all of us. To the last dwarf!"

"And you forget, we have a wizard in our company! Gandalf would have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!" Kili said, with more enthusiasm.

Suddenly the room's attention was turned to Gandalf, who sat still and awkwardly smoking through his own pipe.

The table then erupted in more angry shouts, with the ponies mostly being as overwhelmed as Bilbo.

"ENOUGH!" Thorin shouted, silencing the entire room. "If we have read these signs, do you not think others have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claims what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?!"

His words had stoked a burning fire into the hearts of the dwarves, with himself beaming the brightest. Sunny could now see and understand why he was destined to be king, and he reminded her of the countless stories of Princess Twilight she heard over the years.

"You forget!" Balin interjected. "The front gate is sealed! There is no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true," Gandalf replied, brandishing a worn but silver key.

"It was given to me by your father. By Thrain. For safekeeping. It is yours now," Gandalf answered passing the key to Thorin, who took great pride with it, but also a hint of remorse was in his eyes

Gandalf nodded while pointing to some other old-looking text on the map, this time not understandable from the ponies' ends. "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."

"I'm afraid so. The answer lies somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it, but...there are others in Middle-Earth who can."

Thorin's face was overcome with skepticism. Sunny however, beamed with interesting wonder.

"The task I have in mind for you will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage." Gandalf looked at Zipp for a moment before turning to Bilbo. "But if we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done."

"Me?! No, no, no, no, no, no! I'm not a burglar! I've never stolen a thing in my life!"

"Well, I'm afraid I'll have to agree with Mister Baggins," Balin sighed. "He's hardly burglar material."

"That's supposed to be a bad thing?" Hitch asked, not quite on board with the train of thought.

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves," Dwalin added.

Soon the dwarves were arguing fiercely about Bilbo's merits, with Bilbo agreeing about Dwalin and Balin's remarks, while the ponies were caught between the voices unsure about there position.

Having lost his patience, Gandalf rose. "ENOUGH!" he shouted. His shadow appeared to fill the entire room, silencing the bad-tempered dwarves, while also frightening Pipp into tightly embracing her sister. "IF I SAY BILBO BAGGINS IS A BURGALR, THEN A BURGLAR HE IS!"

And like it never happened, Gandalf sat back down. "Hobbit's are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most, if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives a distinct advantage."

Still greatly ignoring Bilbo's protests he turned to Thorin. "You asked to find a fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There is a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know!"

He looked down the table to all the watching inquisitive, but some still apprehensive faces. "Including himself," he finished. "You must trust me on this."

Thorin sat a moment in thought before he spoke. "Very well. We will do it your way. Give him the contract."

Balin nodded before taking out a parchment of paper and handing it to a still protesting Bilbo. "It's just the usual. Summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time require, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth."

Thorin turned to Gandalf, still unsure about the potential burglar. "I cannot guarantee his safety," he whispered.

"Terms: cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding 1/14th share of total profit, if any'," Bilbo read aloud. "Seems fair. 'Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or as a consequence thereof, including but not limited to...lacerations...evisceration?'"

Hitch started going pale in the muzzle as Bilbo turned over a flap, before looking back to the table incredibly incredulous. "'Incineration?!'"

"Oh, aye. He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye," Bofur nodded.

"Yeah," Bilbo replied, though it was easy to see that his face was ready to hurl out whatever remained of his dinner. "Feel a bit faint."

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!"

Bilbo looked back to Bofur, very clearly having reached his thread's end. "Nope," he said before fainting away again. This time Hitch also fainted, flat on his back, legs stiff a planks of wood.

When they both came to, they were sitting by the glowing hearth, sipping at some tea that Pipp prepared.

"Are you sure you're alright Bilbo?" Sunny asked. "That's the second time you fainted just today."

"You've been sitting quietly for far too long!" Gandalf snapped. "Tell me, when doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you?"

"You never met him when he was young. I remember a young hobbit who was always running off in search of elves in the woods." The wizard smiled warmly. "Who would stay out late, come home after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps Bilbo. It is out there."

Sunny felt reminded of her childhood: her dad telling her amazing stories, writing up and looking for hours on old maps, and always wondering what was beyond the fields and waters of Maretime Bay. It was like Gandalf knew plenty of their world.

"I can't just go running off into the blue!" Bilbo stated, making his position quite clear. "I am a Baggins...of Bag End."

"Did you know that your great-great-great-great uncle Bullroarer Took was so large that he could ride a real horse?"

"Well he could! In the Battle of Greenfields he charged the Goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard that it knocked the Goblin King's head clean off, and it sailed a hundred yards before landing in a rabbit hole! And thus the battle was won, and the game of golf invented at the same time."

"Wow!" Zipp amazed. "Never thought golf of all sports would have such a fascinating history."

Bilbo looked over to the ponies, smiling meekly. "I do believe you made that up," Bilbo said to Gandalf.

"Well, all good stories deserve some embellishment," Gandalf smiled, sitting down. "You'll have a tale or two or your own to tell your own when you get back."

Bilbo's smile suddenly became shrewd with uncertainty. "Can you promise that I will come back?"

Bilbo's gaze left Gandalf's eyes, having made up his mind, however regretful he sounded. "That's what I thought. Sorry Gandalf, I can't sign this. You've got the wrong hobbit."

Bilbo stood up, set his cup on the chair, and walked solemnly towards his bedroom without another word. The ponies remained silent, Hitch most of all.

"I appreciate your concern Sunny, but this is a thought that Bilbo must think for on his own. And he can deny it, but he needs this too, more so than he believes."

From the hallway, Balin watched as Bilbo walked towards his bedroom. "Well, it appears we've lost our burglar. Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. What are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy-makers." He then looked to where Bifur and Bombur were, and Izzy approached them holding a small bracelet. Bifur said nothing, and instead took out a small wooden toy horse, smiling at Izzy's childlike amazement.

"I would take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called them, the answered. Loyalty, honor, and a willing heart. I can ask no more of that."

Zipp was overhearing their conversation, and felt a little flattered, even if she was not the subject.

"You don't have to do this," Balin said. "You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built for us a new life in the Blue Mountains. A life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth...all the gold, in Erebor."

"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me," Thorin spoke with assuredness, holding he key in his hand. "They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin, not for me."

They then walked into a room with the rest of their kin, and began humming and singing a solemn tune, of loneliness, tragedy, and the sadness of the loss of home. Izzy was still talking with Bifur and Bombur, but respectfully went silent. Hitch and Pipp were the most enchanted as they listened.

"Thorin: Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold.

"The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells."

"To go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine trees and the waterfalls..."

"It just comes naturally, I guess. These dwarves sing about missing their homeland, and their longing to return...return home."

"For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.

"On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.

"Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day,

Thorin and Balin: To find our long-forgotten gold.

"Goblets they carved there for themselves.
And harps of gold; where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.

"Dwarf chorus: The pines were roaring on the height
The winds were blazing in the night
The fire was red, it flaming spread;
The trees like torches blazed with light.

"The bells were ringing in the dale
And men looked up with faces pale;
Then dragon's ire more fierce than fire
Laid low their and towers and horses frail.

"The mountain smoked beneath the moon;
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

"Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our Arkenstone from him!"

As the Song of the Lonely Mountain rang its final cord, Bilbo began to rest himself to sleep, having also heard the entirety of Hitch and Pipp's conversation. He began to dream of faraway places, long-slept gold, and dragons; perhaps he should join in on the adventure.

The Hobbit: Third-Age Generation

by PlymouthFury58

Chapter Two: An Unexpected Party