A/N I've recently seen The Hobbit – twice! – and my passion for the Tolkien Legendarium has returned with a vengeance that has been unparalleled till now. I cannot believe I have to wait another year to see the next installment of the movie. However, until then, fanfiction remains and the movie has set a beautiful background for fanfics. I've been toying with this idea for a while. Look forward to hearing your opinion. ( Still looking for a beta... )

Warnings: Will have mentions of war, blood, gore, injuries, character death etc. There will be movie and book spoilers as well.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Angst, Drama, Adventure, Action, Alternate Universe

Full Summary: "Fate has been shaken. Something that should not have happened came to pass. Do you know what it was Gandalf?"

"Perhaps I know and perhaps I have been wrong. Only time will tell."

As a child Bilbo dreamed of fire raining down a mighty mountain, of desperate screams and anguished cries. As he grew up the dreams became of pain and blood, of mindless slaughter and unearthly cries. When he meets Thorin Oakenshield for the first time he begins to realize that his dreams may be more than terrifying nightmares.

Disclaimer: I may own a few copies of The Lord of the Rings and at least one copy each of The Hobbit, The Silmarillion, The Children of Hurin and Unfinished Tales, but alas that is all. All the rest belongs to the genius of J.R. English is not my native language


Chapter I: In dreams… peril

"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort."

However, all the comfort in the world was of no use to Bilbo Baggins as soon as night fell. The beauty and warmth of his house seemed to fade away as chill made its way in his bones and nightmares caught him in their grip. As a child Bilbo dreamed of fire raining down a mighty mountain, of desperate screams and anguished cries. He saw the look in the eyes of those who were dying and the tears in the eyes of those who were forced to flee their homes. His heart clenched in fear as he saw the mighty scales of the dragon that killed many and claimed a home that was not its own.

As a child Bilbo Baggins often woke up in the middle of the night, sheer terror etched on his face as the remains of the nightmare still plagued his mind. Sometimes his terrified screams would wake up his mother who would wrap his arms around his shivering form and whisper sweet nothings in his ear until he calmed down. Other times no one heard and he was left to brave the terror that came with his dreams alone.

What scared Bilbo the most was the vividness of those dreams. Occasionally he would have pleasant dreams of lush fields of green and cozy homes, of games of catch and laughter in the sun. However, these dreams would always be hazy, as if seen through mist or smoke. The nightmares would be vivid, their colors sharp and sounds clear.

In his heart he knew them to be true, even though his Baggins side tried to ignore them completely. In order to forget them he embraced his Took side and sought as many adventures as possible, their happy memory a shield against the frightful night. He chased elves and climbed trees, laughed and played, always ignoring the dark, ominous dreams that still plagued his nights.

As he grew, the dreams changed though remained just as terrifying. They turned in dreams of pain and blood, of mindless slaughter and unearthly cries. He saw creatures snarling and men dying, he felt pain and cried as the visage of the elves in his dreams contorted in pain and fear. He no longer sought out elves and dwarves, afraid that the faces of those he knew would appear in his dreams. With the death of his parents, the last true shield against the nightmares perished and Bilbo learned to deal with them as he could, by ignoring them. He embraced his Baggins side completely and dwelt little on the thoughts that plagued his night. He grew complacent, his most important thoughts turning towards food and his mother's silverware. Little by little the dreams started fading, as if knowing the one they plagued no longer believed in them.

However, a chance encounter with a wizard and thirteen dwarves would change things… for the better or for the worst.