{Prologue}

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Image is not mine, I don't know who it belongs to.  I declare that it's Belladonna hold young Bilbo.  This is only my second published story, I put a lot more attention to this one but if I made any mistakes, feel free to comment. Hope you guys enjoy. Also all of this will be in Bilbos P.O.V. Unless I spontaneously decide to change that.

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My mother was a magical woman. She could always make me smile and her voice was velvety smooth. A gorgeous woman. Belladonna Baggins, née Took. It wasn't only her personality that was magical, not her appearance either. No, she was magical. Could perform magic.

She taught me many things, how to cross-stitch, draw, paint, many forms of art, and I remember each and everyone but there is one that really stuck. My mother taught me Hobbitish, how to read and write it, as well as how to speak it. Hobbitish was kind of a dying language, not spoken often, but my mother said it will help me in the future. She taught me many languages, mostly just the basics. But she made sure that I knew to speak Hobbitish as well as Qenya and Sindarin, the language of the elves. So those are the three I remember the most. It's sort of fun. When different races pass through the shire, and I'm walking past them and they speak a different language but I understand them anyway.

The Took family was unique. My mother never explained how it happened— just said that a long time ago, somewhere in her family line, some type of magic got woven into the family genes. Not spells, no, healings. Not telekinesis either. It was like elf magic, herbs, and chanting, and sometimes runes and drawings, but there was a unique part of it, different from the elves. My mother told stories often, about the places she's traveled, the things she's seen, the people she's met. She was a traveler before she settled down and got married, and gave birth to me.

I remember coming home one day from playing in the side forest. I had fallen and scraped my knees and hands. It had been so painful that I had immediately started to bawl, now remember, I was a little kid. I had run back to the Baggins-Took smial. When I got there, my mother was tending to the garden and had turned around upon hearing me running over, crying my eyes out.

"Mummy!!" I whined, "I- I fell and, and I'm ble-bleeding," I hiccup out, clutching at her skirts.

She scooped me up in her arms and gave me a big hug. "It's okay, sweetheart, we can patch it up real quick!" she said in her musical voice. "Into the house, we go!" She hefted me up so she could hold me easier. I buried my head into her shoulder, still sniffling, and nodded. When we got inside she set me on grandma's old rocking chair.

"I'm gonna be okay, right?" I asked my tears free-flowing. She looked up at me with a look that I can only describe as love. She reached up and cupped my face in her hands.

"Of course, my child, nothing bad will ever happen to you, as long as I am here, I promise," This lovely woman that I am grateful to call my mother, smiled at me, and all my troubles and worries melted away as I smiled right back at her. She wiped my tears away. "Come now, you shouldn't waste your special tears on a mere knee scrape now, should you?" She went back to patching up my knee.

"Special tears?" I asked, wiping my tears away, as they slowly stopped falling. "What does that mean?"

When my mother was done patching me up, she swooped me up in her arms again, settling back into the rocking chair, rocking us back and forth. "Do you want to hear a story?" she asked me, looking off into the distance, smiling. I nodded intensely, shaking us both, causing my mother to laugh. "You have to stay awake though, this is a very important story. It can be a matter of life and death if you ever come across it"

"Okay!" I say, smiling, with wide eyes of anticipation. "I'll stay awake!"

"I'm holding you to that," she laughs a beautiful laugh that makes her look younger than ever. "Are you ready?"

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