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It was a known fact that the Valar were capable of great kindness concerning their children. However, it has also been suggested by many (some more so in the know then others (read here as a certain Grey Pilgrim)) that immortality could get direly boring and as such something must be done to spice things up a bit. Thus fate could sometimes be looked upon as a very intense, high stake dice game played by the children of Middle Earth’s makers. Bilbo Bagins was beginning to realize, however, that the die were weighted, and most certainly not in her favor.
Throughout Middle Earth there were four known shifting races: Elves, Dwarrow, Men, and Hobbits, and though each race did seem to favor certain types of animals their shift form tended to be more a reflection of the individual. Hobbits were rather odd, having had long since almost completely ceased deviating from a specific form. Mostly their shifts tended to run in the family. The Gamgee’s had been shifting into rabbits for generations while the Brandybucks tended to be a bit mousy. Even the Tooks tended more towards squirrels, including Belladonna herself (a flying squirrel but a squirrel none the less) and the Baggins’s had a long standing tradition of taking on a sturdy goat form, and that tradition had continued into Bilbo’s dearly proper father, Bungo. But, as has been noted before, Bilbo was firm in the belief the Valar was, to put it lightly, fucking with her. As such she was the queerest creature to grace The Shire since recorded or remembered history. Singular she was not, for even though Elves tended to flow into more elegant forms such as elk and deer, that didn’t stop Elrond’s twins from shifting into a pair of rambunctious collies (much to their younger sisters constant amusement). Nor did Men’s penchant towards primates prevent the riders of Rohan to shift, almost exclusively, into mounts themselves. Dwarrow tended toward larger cave dwelling creatures such as bears and large cats, but there were always odd ones like the brothers Ri who each took the form of some fox or another.
As a matter of fact, Bilbo was quite surprised by the variety of shifter she found herself accompanying on this mad quest. Apparently it was a trait of the Durin heirs to shift into Lions, though not exclusive it was viewed as a good omen. So Thorin and Fíli (black and gold manes respectively) maintained a majestic air to them even when shifting. Though Fíli continuously dashed any awe one may be of him within seconds of Kíli’s excessively playful Tiger form joining him. Besides being absolutely terrified the first time she’d been confronted with such large beasts (Bilbo had nearly been ran over in Kíli’s single-minded intent of pouncing his golden brother) the Hobbit also found herself confronted with some of the oddest coloring she’d ever seen in her fifty years. She’d never seen a blue shift. Insects and plants were blue, not animals. And yet, there was Kíli, trying to cuddle with the panicked Burglar, in his grey-blue coat. After saving her from nearly dying of fright, Balin had assured her the lad was merely Durin-blessed, apparently not odd at all seeing as his mother was of the same shift and color. Fíli and Kíli were also the two dwarrow keenest on maintaining their shifts. They would often cuddle and wrestle around the campfire at night before settling down to sleep in their feline forms. As such, Bilbo had grown slowly used to the fierce beasts. That did not prepare her for what happened during the Troll incident, however.
It was probably a very good thing there were Trolls to be dealt with because had she been privy to Dwalin and Gloin’s shifts during a time of peaceful rumination she’d have fainted dead away. The Black and Brown bears (Dwalin and Glóin, respectively) were some of the largest creatures she’d ever seen and definitely the fiercest as they tried to rip into the thick hide of the rank trio. Following swiftly after his brother was Balin, a snow leopard, and it said a lot about how truly aberrant a turn her life had taken that she found herself thinking that at least she’d been expecting a giant man eating cat from the line of Durin.
It was in Rivendell that everything began to come to a head, and the true joking nature of fate became known to Miss Bilbo Baggins. As a result of her outstanding abilities to talk incessantly she was being looked upon slightly more favorably by the Company, which meant they were becoming more comfortable with her presence, and, thus, their shifts. In short order she became acquainted with the brother’s Ri. Ori, getting fed up at Dori’s insistence he eat the retched green food the Elves had served them burst into the most interesting little fox Bilbo had ever seen. A nice tan color with the traditional bushy tail but the ears on this little thing were practically the size of the things head. Dori gave chase in a more traditional grey fox fur and Nori, with a roll of his eyes and a grumbled exclamation about ‘henning’ was off in a flash of red fur.
Later in the week, while they were apparently waiting for the moon to illuminate some hidden message on the map Thorin had been given (and hadn’t that made Bilbo practically vibrate with curiosity, Moon Runes?! Who’d have thought?) The Company was lounging in one of the multiple gardens around the Last Homely House. Bilbo was cheerfully discussing the benefits of dried ink versus liquid for the traveling scholar with Ori when a red raccoon was chased into her lap by an average run of the mill one. It was only when Bombur changed back and lamented about the injustice of using the little Burglar as a way to escape his well deserved thrashing that Bilbo understood she was currently holding Bofur in her lap. And as curious as Ori was in his shift, Bofur was that twice over.
After Bombur stomped back to his cousin, Bilbo was given a chance to really observe the now lazing red furred critter. It had similar markings as a raccoon, with the little black mask and striped tail, it even had a cute white belly that was presently being offered for petting (something else surprising about the dwarrow, how tactile they were in the shifts. Hobbits didn’t tend to change too much in temperament but after Balin had lapped at her like a cub she’d discovered the stronger characteristics in her companions were apparently amplified in their shifts). But the color was a bright red and the creature slighter, more streamline and fluffy. Seeing her curiosity Ori informed her he was in fact a red panda, rare but not unheard of.
Of course eventually someone had to realize the Company still had no clue what their Burglar’s shift was. This, of course, posed a mystery that had the Durin lads up in fits.
“Why don’t you shift?”
“Is it a Hobbit thing?”
“Are you something hideous?”
“All I saw were farm animals when we were at the Shire.”
“Lambs.”
“Pigs.”
“Goats.”
“Rabbits.”
“Cows.”
“That wasn’t a shift Kíli, that was just a cow.”
“But it was in the Shire.”
“But it’s not relevant to our question.”
“What question?”
“What Miss Boggins shifts into.”
“RIGHT! Miss Boggins… Miss Boggins?”
She spent the rest of the day hiding behind Bifur and Bombur, Bofur not helping at all at first until he found it more comfortable to shift and resume his place in her lap under her nimble hands once more.
It wasn’t that Hobbits had protocol concerning their shifts, or whom they shifted in front of. Far from it, otherwise Fíli and Kíli would never have seen so many of the family staples on their rendezvous (never mind it spoke much more to how frightened and startled the Shirelings had been that they’d shifted in front of the dwarrow then anything else. A sure fire way to induce a shift was to cause a fright as the shift was normally a defense mechanism). But even among her fellow variants Bilbo knew her shift was still an odd one. The folk in the Shire, though not violent or cruel in their regard towards her shift were hardly encouraging. Thus she’d grown used to denying it. She reserved her shifts for her private time, when she was alone in her smial.
This didn’t matter to the young Durin twins, however. The weeks following their flight from Rivendell saw the pair trying to startle the Hobbit lass into a shift. They tried everything from running up behind her, to picking her up unexpectedly, to hitting her with small rocks. There was one moment when Kíli actually made as if to loose an arrow in her direction. Unfortunately that ended with him accidentally doing just that, and thusly she was introduced to Bifur’s grey wolf. He snapped the arrow out of the air and then gave chase to the two impudent cats, followed by Dwalin’s black bear. Really, what were they going to do if the lads ended up killing the Burglar before they even saw the mountain!? Not to mention they didn’t feel the wizard would find it very amusing if they hurt his Hobbit, as it appeared Bilbo was more so on loan from Gandalf than the Shire.
In the end, though, it was always a given that something was going to ruin her. She managed to breeze through Trolls, Orcs, Goblins, cave dwelling maniacs, Azog the Defiler!!! A hug from Thorin didn’t startle her enough to shift (though it came damn close, and she may have used Bofur as a red furry cuddle bear that night to calm her shot to Mordor nerves). It wasn’t until they’d made their way down from the Carrack (or so Gandalf insisted the mountain was called) and were resting by a stream as the barmy wizard took off to find his ‘friend’ who they would seek refuge from.
Bilbo was leaning against a rather pleasantly warmed boulder by the stream as Bombur was cooking up the fish Dwalin and Glóin had managed to swipe from it. Óin was tending Thorin’s wounds from the white warg and the rest of the Company was in different states of lax as they had strained their rather superior reserves climbing trees, running through fire and fighting Orcs. Glóin and Dwalin were reclined against a log half heartedly cleaning blood from their axes; Dori’s grey fox and Bifur’s grey wolf were fussing over Ori’s fennec fox and Bofur’s red panda, respectively, bathing the little things’ large ears’ with their tongues while Nori and Balin lazily chuckled on their left at the outrage in the smaller creatures; Fíli and Kíli had collapsed into a pile on the bank and were quite possibly dead (they hadn’t moved since landing there). Bilbo’s own eyes were closed and she was drifting on the twilight of sleep when she heard the sharp yelp and roar from Thorin and threw herself upright to see that the tending had not taken very well as where Thorin once was there was now his black mane lion, and it was stalking… a spindled bush?
Bilbo was trying to think what kind of bush it was (and how she’d missed something that large and terrifyingly spikey, the spines looked the size of her arms and the bush itself was easily larger then Bombur’s girth) when Thorin’s rather annoyed shift went to swipe his clawed paw at the shrub and the bloody thing MOVED!!! To be more precise it practically rushed her where she sat on her rock.
“What in the name of Mahal is that?!”
The shocked yelp was surprisingly high pitched from Glóin and had the rest of the Company on alert (including the Durin brothers, apparently not dead) with the burly red head that had swiftly jumped onto the log he and Dwalin had been resting on. His thick-fingered left hand was pointing in the grass as his right had swiftly unsheathed his axe and was readying to wield it, poising it above his head as his face registered a terrifying amount of alarm from such a weathered warrior.
Bilbo huffed, taking not a little offence and really what did he have to complain about? If anyone should be up in arms about that prickly death bush it should be her! It wasn’t coming after him after all. She quickly started running her tiny little paws off to get away from that beastly-spindled doom plant when she was suddenly scooped up into unwelcome arms.
“Bilbo?!” Fíli’s voice was a strange mix of incredulous, confused, and elated as he cradled the tiny Hobbit shift.
“Lemme see!” Kíli demanded as he made to grab the tiny brown and white creature from his elder brother. As his hand grasped Bilbo, however, he applied a little too much pressure to both his own hand and Fíli’s, resulting in both Durin sons yelping in shocked pain and dropping the tiny prickly bundle. Released, and slightly dazed, Bilbo took off in whatever direction she’s been facing and ran head first into the damned evil bushes face!
Wait, what?
A strange whiffing chirp came from the large spindle creature as it stared down at the tiny, spindled creature in front of it. Bilbo remained frozen as the larger beast (and if she’d thought it was large when she was a sensible Hobbit size it was fifty times as much now tat she’d reverted to her shift which was small enough to be held in the palm of a Mans hand) snuffled her all over with its cold, wet nose. Suddenly she felt the feel of a swift raspy tongue and she let out a startled squeak. Seemingly satisfied the fall hadn’t done any more damage to the little Burglar, Óin’s porcupine stepped back and shuffled towards the now transformed Thorin and shifted back himself to continue treating the ornery King.
Feeling and seeing the stares she was receiving from the rest of the gob smacked company; Bilbo did what came naturally to her form. She rolled into a little defensive ball of spindles and waited them out. From her tiny ball she could hear Kíli shout, “What is she?! Is she a baby porcupine?”
“How old is the Halfling?!” this came from Dwalin as he thought of how young she would have to be to have such a tiny form if she was in fact a similar shift to Óin.
“I think that’s what Men call a ‘hedgepig’. They’re tiny hedge dwellers and look like tiny porcupine but instead of loosing the spines they keep theirs during an attack.” This last from Ori who’d transformed back with the rest of the shifted when the chaos had began.
Before she could begin to uncurl and shift back, Bilbo found herself being picked up once more, this time gently, and being transferred onto her spiny back. Staring up she found Bofur observing her with his usual happy grin, “Well now, isn’t that appropriate then lass? A cute spikey thing with a soft underbelly,” at this he poked the soft white fluff that grew on her belly eliciting a huffy squeak and causing her to roll around his thick fingers. With a laugh the cheery miner sat back down and petted the newly revealed shift until dinner was ready.