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Thorin's Long Lost Daughter

60 Years Earlier...

Bilbo’s smoke ring collapsed and became a smoke moth, as a tall figure walked by him. The moth flew into Bilbo’s face, waking him from his reverie. A younger Bilbo, from 60 years earlier, was sitting on the same bench, smoking his pipe. He looked up in surprise and saw a hooded figure.

“Good morning.”

“What do you mean? 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. Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?”
The hooded figure asked the Hobbit.

“All of them at once, I suppose.”
Bilbo said, awkwardly.

Gandalf looked slightly disapproved at Bilbo; who was confused and bewildered.

“Can I help you?”
Bilbo asked, the man.

“That remains to be seen. I’m looking for someone to share in an adventure.”
Gandalf answered

“An adventure? Now, I don’t imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner, hm, mm”
Bilbo said, absentmindedly.

Bilbo got up and checked his mailbox, grabbing some mail and sorted through it, clucking to himself. He looked quite uncomfortable because the man was still standing there. Puffing his pipe in vexation, he began to head back inside.

“Good morning.”
Bilbo said, awkwardly

“To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took’s son, as if I were selling buttons at the door.”
Gandalf said, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

His comment made Bilbo turn back around.
“Beg your pardon?”

“You’ve changed, and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins.”
Gandalf said.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
Bilbo asked.

“Well, you know my name, although you don’t remember I belong to it. I’m Gandalf! And Gandalf means … me.” Gandalf said, serenely.

“Gandalf...not Gandalf, the wandering Wizard, who made such excellent fireworks! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer’s Eve. Ha, ha! Well. Hmm, I had no idea you were still in business.”
Bilbo smiled.

“And where else should I be?”
Gandalf asked, a bit defensively.

“Ha, ha! Hm, hmm...”
Bilbo laughed, uncomfortably, as he puffed confusedly in his pipe.

“Well, I’m pleased to find your remember something about me, even if it’s only my fireworks. Well that’s decided. It will be very good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others.”
Gandalf said, confidently.

“Inform the who? What? No. No. No! Wait. We do not want any adventures here, thank you. Not today, not-mm. I suggest you try over the Hill or across the Water. Good morning.”
Bilbo cried, in frustration, as he retreated into Bag End, gesturing to Gandalf with his pipe.

Once inside, he bolted the door and leaned against it. Hearing a curious noise, he put his ear close to the door. The noise was from Gandalf drawing a glowing symbol on Bilbo’s door with his staff. Alarmed, Bilbo looked out his side window, only to find Gandalf’s eye appear in front of him. He jumped back in fright and hid behind a wall; he looked out another window and saw Gandalf hurrying away.
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It was nighttime. In Bag End, Bilbo prepared a dinner of fish; he settled down at his table, tucked a napkin in his collar, and began sprinkling salt on his fish. Unknown to Bilbo, the symbol on the door glowed, and the shadow of a person appeared on the door. Bilbo, in the middle of squeezing lemon juice on his fish, looked up in surprise as the doorbell rang. He opened the door and found a tall, bald dwarf on his doorstep. The dwarf greeted him and bowed slightly.

“Ah.”

“Dwalin, at your service.”
The Dwarf said.

Shocked, Bilbo let out a noise like a whimper. Coming to his senses, he quickly tied his robe tighter and stood taller, although he was still confused.

“Bilbo Baggins, at yours.”
Bilbo said, politely.

Dwalin walked inside without an invitation

“D-do we know each other?”
Bilbo stuttered.

“No. Which way, laddie? Is it down here?”
Dwalin said, plainly.

“I-is what down where?”
Bilbo asked, unsure of what was going on.

Dwalin dumped some of his stuff on the ground and thrust the rest onto Bilbo.

“Supper. He said there’d be food, and lots of it.”
He answered

“H-He said? Who said?”
Bilbo asked, as Dwalin sat at Bilbo’s spot on the kitchen table, eating Bilbo’s dinner.

While Bilbo sat behind him, confused. Dwalin ate all the flesh from the fish, before also eating the head as well, as Bilbo looked on in disgust.

“Mmmm. … Very good, this. Anymore?”

“What? Uh, oh, yes, yes….”
Bilbo said, absentmindedly.

“Ah.”

“Help yourself.”
Bilbo brought a plate of biscuits, after he hurriedly hid one behind his back for himself, and Dwalin began stuffing them in his mouth.

“Mmmm. It’s just that, um, I wasn’t expecting company.”
Bilbo said,

The bell rang again, and Bilbo looked up in alarm.

“That’ll be the door.”
Dwalin said

Bilbo opened the door and found an old, white-haired dwarf waiting and when he saw Bilbo he bowing.

“Balin, at your service.”
The Dwarf said.

“Good evening.”
Bilbo said, politely.

“Yes, yes it is, though I think it might rain later. Am I late?”
Balin asked.

“Late for what?”
Bilbo asked, still unaware of what was going on

Balin saw Dwalin, who was trying to get more biscuits from Bilbo’s jar.

“Oh, ha ha! Evening, brother. Heh, heh.”
Balin smiled.

“Oh, by my beard, you are shorter and wider than last we met.”
Dwalin remarked.

“Wider, not shorter. Sharp enough for both of us.”
Balin smirked.

Laughing, they greeted each other amicably. Putting their arms on each other’s shoulders, they smashed their foreheads together. Bilbo looked on in wonder.

“Uh, excuse me; sorry, I hate to interrupt, ah, but the thing is, I’m not entirely sure you’re in the right house.”
Bilbo tried to say, but Dwalin and Balin ignored him, and they went into Bilbo’s pantry, where they were pouring ale and examining the food. As they talked to each other, Bilbo continued his speech.

“Have you eaten?"
Dwalin asked his brother.

“It’s not that I don’t like visitors; I-I like visitors as much as the next Hobbit, but I do like to know them before they come visiting.”
Bilbo continued, even though Dwalin and Balin were not listening to him, and they continued rifling through his pantry.

“Ah, that looks very nice indeed.”
Balin remarked.

Balin picked up a lump of cheese.
“What’s this?”
Dwalin asked.

“I don’t know…..cheese.”
Balin answered.

“The thing is, um--”
Bilbo stuttered.

“It’s gone blue.”
Balin complained.

“It’s riddled with mold.”
Dwalin added, as he took the cheese, and he tossed it out the pantry, past the still speaking Bilbo.

“The thing is, um, I, I don’t know either of you, not in the slightest. I don’t mean to be blunt, but I uh, but I had to speak my mind. I’m sorry.”
Bilbo said, nervously

The two dwarves paused and looked at Bilbo.

“Hm. Apology accepted.”
Balin said, looking at Dwalin with a questioning look

“Ah, now fill it up, brother, don’t stint. I could eat again, if you insist.”

Balin handed a tankard to Dwalin, so that it could be filled with ale. Bilbo sighed, as the doorbell rang. Bilbo opened it to find two young Dwarves. As he saw them, he let out a sound that sounded like a moan.

“Fili.”
The one with the beard said.

“And Kili.”
The one with stubble said.

“At your service.”
The pair said, bowing together.

“You must be Mr. Boggins.”
Kili said, questioningly.

“Nope, you can’t come in, you’ve come to the wrong house.”
Bilbo said, exasperated, as he tried to close the door, but Kili stopped it with his foot.

“What? Has it been cancelled?”
Kili asked.

“No one told us.”
Fili said, with the same concern level as Kili.

“Can--? No—nothing’s been cancelled.”
Bilbo said.

“Well, that’s a relief.”
Kili said, relieved, as the dwarves pushed their way in, and they began unloading their stuff onto Bilbo.

“Careful with these, I just had ‘em sharpened.”
Fili warned.

“It’s nice, this place. D’you you do it yourself?”
Kili said, as he scraped the mud off of his boot on the edge of a chest which was standing nearby.

“Ah, no, it’s been in the family for years. That’s my mother’s glory box, can you please not do that?!”
Bilbo said, exasperated.

“Fili, Kili, come on, give us a hand.”
Dwalin called.

“Mister Dwalin.”
Kili called, formally, as they laughed.

“Let’s shove this in the hallway, otherwise we’ll never get everyone in.”
The dwarves prepared to shift Bilbo’s furniture around to create a meeting/feasting place.

“Ev--everyone? How many more are there?”
Bilbo asked, anxiously.

“Where do you want this?”
Kili asked.

The doorbell rang again, very hard and longer than before. Bilbo, in anger, walked quickly toward the door, dumping all the swords and other equipment out of his arms along the way.

“Oh no. No, no! There’s nobody home. Go away, and bother somebody else. There’s far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is. If- if- If this is some clotterd’s idea of a joke, ha ha, I can only say, it is in very poor taste.”
Bilbo said, angrily, as he opened the door.

An entire heap of Dwarves, eight to be exact, fall into Bilbo’s house.

They all struggled to get up, and they grumbled, and yelled at each other. “Get off!” They shouted to each other. Bilbo looked to see Gandalf standing behind them..

“Gandalf.”
Bilbo asked, in curiosity.

The entire group of dwarves, 12 of them, began raiding Bilbo’s pantry and taking out all his food. He tried to tell them to put it back, but they ignored him.

“Those are my plates! Excuse me! Not my wine. Put that back. Put that back! Not the jam, please! ...Excuse me.” Bilbo argued, as Bombur walked out of the pantry with three entire wheels of cheese.

“Excuse me. A tad excessive, isn’t it? Have you got a cheese knife?”
Bilbo asked, Bofur

“Cheese knife? He eats it by the block.”
Bofur answered.

Oin and Gloin walked through the hall carrying chairs from one of Bilbo’s rooms.

“No, no, that’s Grandpa Mungo's chair! No, I’m sorry, you’ll have to take it back please. Take it back...It’s antique, not for sitting on! Thank you! That’s a book, not a coaster. Put that map down, thank you.”
Bilbo argued.

“I cannot hear what you’re saying!”
Oin complained.

The dwarves continued bringing all of Bilbo’s food and furniture into the dining room. Dori approached Gandalf with a tray and some tea.

“Excuse me, Mr. Gandalf, can I tempt you with a nice cup of chamomile tea?”
Dori asked, politely.

“Oh, no thank you, Dori. A little red wine for me, I think.”
Gandalf said.
Gandalf walked out of the dining room, trying to avoid the scurrying dwarves. He hit his head on the chandelier, then he began counting the dwarves on his fingers.

*******************

Meanwhile, a dark shape appeared on the nearby grassy lawn. A shadow cast over the figure, and it appeared to be a silvery wolf. As the wolf walked closer to the Hobbit hole, the shadow changed, and it became the silhouette of a hooded figure. A person. A Ranger of the North, and an Animorph.

**********************

“Fili, Kili, Oin, Gloin, Dwalin, Balin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dori, Nori...Ori. Ah…We are missing two.”
As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Bilbo stormed over to the door, and he flung it open.

“No! We are not allowing any more…”
Bilbo said, angrily, until he saw the look of surprise and confusion that erupted on the strangers face.

“Oh…um…are you Bilbo Baggins by any chance?”
From the tone of the stranger’s voice, Bilbo could tell that this stranger was a woman. She lifted the black hood, and she gently shook the rain from her dark hair.

“I hope I’m not late am I?”
She asked, her voice was as delicate as a flower in the snow.

“Late? Oh no…they’re still waiting…”
Bilbo stuttered. She broke out into a smile.

“Oh…I’m Evelyn. Evelyn Thalina. At your service…”
She added, with a bow of her head.
Bilbo moved out of her way, and she narrowly missed hitting her head off the trim of the door.