Notes: First DISCLAIMER, I don't own The Hobbit or any of it's wonderful characters. I am merely borrowing them to write something fun and light-hearted.

Second. I will try my hardest to keep my OC from being a MarySue. I don't want her to come in and make everything magically perfect. The group will go through many trials and hardships and I hope that she will fit in instead of becoming an entity too "amazing" (pft) or something. So please, if you notice her becoming too MarySue, please let me know. Which leads to my third note. Please if you have any suggestions or if I missed something in my proof-reading, let me know. I love helpful comments and would love to know your thoughts on my writing.

Now without further wait, here is the beginning of my story!


My mother and I had never been accepted by the people of Hobbiton, I was just too strange they said. Too adventurous and I looked too quickly to find dangers. My mother's solution was to send me to live with my father, but I wasn't much more accepted with his kin as I was with my mother's. My father taught me to fight; swift sweeping blows with the sword and straight and true with a bow. I could hold my own against the best by the time the news reached me of my mother's death.

The trip back to Hobbiton was a long one. I did not ride fast or hard as I had when leaving, it only held sorrow for me to return but I had to return. The whispers started as soon as I arrived. That is Belladonna's second child. She has returned to bring dishonor on her mother in death. I ignored these ignorant whisperings and went to the only person who would take me in, Bilbo Baggins. My half brother didn't know what to say when I showed up on his doorstep, dressed in black and looking weary. I didn't ask to come in, I just waited to see if he would invite me. With a small nod as he turned to let me in, I whispered a thanks and was careful to wipe my feet on the mat outside.

"Hello Bilbo," I greeted, his eyes widening slightly at my knowledge of his name. Although we had never met, Mother had remarried only after I left, I knew of him from letters she wrote to me. "I am your half-sister, Belladonna. Did Mother ever mention me to you?"

"Only when I was little," Bilbo carefully admitted, "but I always thought she was just telling me stories to lull me to sleep on a frightful night. I never thought… and yet, here you are. You look like her, you know." Bilbo stared at me for several moments, taking in what reminded him of Mother and what he saw of my father in me, though he did not know it. "Are you really…"

"Yes," I interrupted his inquiry knowing where he was going to lead the conversation. "It is not something I care to discuss even in the safety of your home, not many around here think it acceptable."

"Yes yes, you are quite right," Bilbo nodded not liking the dismissal, but understanding why I did not want such a topic talked about on my first night back in the Shire. "Well, I suppose you will be wanting dinner? And a place to stay, Mother always had a room for you. I understand now why she did."

My only answer was a nod and as we sat down at the table to eat, I noticed that Bilbo was quite the respectable hobbit. His home was clean and without anything hinting at adventures at all. He really had grown out of that adventurous phase Mother used to love writing about. His cooking was exquisite and soon I found myself just enjoying pleasant company and a good meal. I had missed the funeral Bilbo informed me, but we could go together to her resting place if I wanted. I could only nod, the sadness in me at losing my mother without getting to say goodbye was heavier than I thought I could stand. Bilbo rested a hand on my shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "Let me show you to your room, though it may be a bit… underused, it should suit you for tonight. Tomorrow we will see to it that you will be comfortable for as long as you stay with me. I still wouldn't believe I have a sister if it weren't for the fact that you are sitting right in front of me as a spitting image of Belladonna Took herself!"

I let Bilbo lead me to my room and as I placed on top of a chest my few belongings that I had brought, most too adventurous for a quiet soul like Bilbo, he asked me one more question. "May I ask where you have been all this time?" It was a quiet and nervous question, he knew I didn't want to dredge up the past quite yet, but I thought he deserved at least one answer for his hospitality.

"I've been in Rivendale, the Last Homely House. I… My father and I lived there for many years because Mother did not want me to be an outcast in the Shire. I miss my father dearly, but I thought it was time to return and past time for me to meet my younger brother." I smiled half-heartedly, hoping this small explanation would be enough for his curious mind. He nodded and I could almost see the gears in his mind cranking and turning this new bit of information. "I will not tell you about my father just yet though," I warned, "that tale is for another day and I may need a strong drink to get through it all by the end." With that said, I bid Bilbo goodnight and thanked him once again for his generosity.

Once the door closed behind Bilbo I changed into the night gown given to me by the elves before I had left. It brought little comfort, but there was some in its softness and the memory of my father. I bend in front of the mirror Mother had once shown me as a young girl, the memory dim and faded now. My hair, dirty blonde and darker than Bilbo's, was braided back in two thick braids. Normally I wove flowers into the strands, but no healthy black flowers grew to show my mourning. My ears peaked out, pointed as all hobbit ears are, but my skin shown in the moonlight, paler than the other hobbits even though I was always out in the sun. My eyes are sunken, from grief or travel I do not know. Their dark blue depths shine with tears unshed. I step back from the mirror, standing straight again as I do. I am taller than the other hobbit lasses, even taller than most of the lads. Everything about me is strange for a hobbit, and I cannot hide it.

Walking over to my bed, I notice the sheets are a soft green color, the same as my childhood bed. I lie down and stare at the ceiling above me knowing that my journey had really only just begun. The hobbits who still could remember me thought only that I was a strange child, cursed with fairy magics or worse. My desire for adventure had never abated and I knew that I would have to settle down, at least for a while, in order to fit in with the hobbits for the time that I stayed with Bilbo. Little did I know that I would only have to stay for a few years before an adventure came knocking at his door in the form of an old friend of mine.

Edit-Added a description for my OC, I wanted to keep her vague and it's weird trying to get a good situation to describe your own character when she's telling the story. Hopefully this has interested you and I will try to keep a steady update flow for you guys!