Raven: An Unexpected Adventure

Preface

Bilba

April 2942

Bilba Belladonna Baggins crested the rise, and wanted to cry with relief at the sight of her familiar hill. It had been exactly a year to the day since she had run out of that same cozy hobbit hole. She probably had run right over this very spot, not even noticing it or bothering to look back because she was too caught up in catching the Company before they left and she lost all hope of escape. She had missed the Shire at first, had almost longed for Bag End and her comfy chair by the fire with its security. Bilba knew it was because she'd felt so alone amidst the Company at first, lost in their cultural references and confounded by their use of Khuzdul in her presence. Hell, if her father Bungo had seen what she'd done, had heard what she said to fit in, earn a few laughs, and ultimately to get their respect then he would be rolling in his grave. All of his life Bungo Baggins had done everything in his power to ensure that Bilba would come out as a proper little Baggins heir. When she was younger he had always tried to use female company to improve on her manners, hoping that the hobbit lasses' hobbies would rub off. It never did. When Bungo succumbed to a flu, shortly after Belladonna Took was murdered fighting off the wargs during the Fell Winter, Bilba was no less wild. If she could change things, then Bilba wished her father could have seen her the way she was before the Company showed up on her doorstep. It wasn't because she liked the Bilba before the Company, or because she regretted going with them, not even now. She might be coming back alone and in her condition, but she wished that Bungo could have seen her just once as a respectable hobbit, wished that he could have honestly told her at least once that he was proud of her.

Back before the Company, Bilba had become the right proper hobbit lass; the daughter that Bungo had always dreamed of. She might not have had love or much family in her life, but she'd been respected. Or, respected until she opened her door to find Thorin Oakenshield on her front step. Then, respectability had all gone to hell.

There simply was no other way to put it. Bilba sighed and tried to turn her mind away from the dwarf king, but it was a hopeless endeavor. They hadn't gotten along very well, he had scoffed at her attempt to join them and she had become determined to prove him wrong at every turn. She had started with Fíli, Kíli, and Ori, befriending the younger dwarrow and from there she'd let her Tookish determination take control. Sure, she might have messed up a few times, the trolls hadn't been her best moments, nor had falling off the side of the Mountain after Rivendell, but Thorin hadn't been able to rid himself of her as he'd first planned. Instead, she'd gotten under his skin; what she had tried time and time again to ignore, however, was the way that he'd gotten under hers as well. As though to remind her of exactly how under her skin Thorin Oakenshield had gotten, Bilba felt a fluttering in her lower abdomen.

"I know, we're almost home." Bilba found herself whispering, as she stroked the bump before pulling her cloak closer around her and looking back to the hill. She might have once thought about coming back to the Shire, but after she'd gotten to know the dwarrow she realized that it had never really been that strong of a dream. She hadn't fit in before and she certainly wouldn't now, but Bag End was the only home she had left. She was a Baggins, after all, she wasn't about to beg room and board off of someone else. She had her family's money and home, and she'd raise her child here. Straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin, Bilba looked back at the hill. She had faced down trolls, goblins, wargs, spiders, and even a living dragon not to mention the many other far more fearsome situations she'd been in. Bilba could ride back to her smial without shame. She had to.

Hobbiton was just as busy as she remembered, filled with brightly-dressed hobbits bustling about, up and down the hill just like normal. Up and down the hill; it was like there was a party, not that Bilba really felt up for partying. Still, it was almost like they were having a party for her, after all, they were coming in and out of her hobbit hole and they had presents. Then, Bilba's travel-weariness fell away and she realized that they were coming in and out of Bag End, and it wasn't presents that they were carrying; it was her furniture.