Mr Baggins and the Fey Child
@batteredoptimist
The Shire was not a place of great adventure, nor of little adventure. In fact, to anyone inclined to adventure or excitement, the Shire was rather a dull place to be. It was fortunate that Bilbo Baggins was most certainly not one of these people- so it was a surprise, not only to the entire Shire but also to himself, that when an exciting thing did occur, he handled it in a most un-Bagginses way.
He was taking a stroll through the woods, puffing on his pipe, so absentminded and wrapped up in his own thoughts that he very nearly missed him. A small boy lay under a tree, fast asleep as though the roots of the oak were a soft bed and the leaves about him his blanket. Bilbo stared blinking in surprise, unsure if what he was seeing was wholly real, for he was no hobbit child and visitors were rare in these parts.
Upon realising the boy had no clothes, he took off his jacket in a flurry and tucked it around the small form, “I say,” he said, gently shaking the boys shoulder, “are you alright? You’d best wake up,” he spoke louder now, “I can’t help you in this state!”












