Curse of the East (Fili/The Hobbit Fanfiction)

Chapter 1 - Unhappy Beginnings

The sun had just barely begun to rise when I slipped silently out the door of Bag End, my book in my hand and my fathers leather satchel slung across my chest. I could hear Bilbo's quiet snoring and I smiled. These mornings were one of my favorite things, simply because of how peaceful they were. Bilbo got to sleep in, and I had no chores to do, so I finally had time to go into the woods and get some alone time. I was a loner, had been for my entire life; not by choice, but you get used to only having one or two people in your life that actually want to be near you at any given time. Which made the Shire one of my least favorite places in the whole of Middle Earth. Which is impressive considering I can't remember ever having gone any farther away than the small village of Bree. Now don't get me wrong, I love living in Bag End, it's large and open, and it's not hard to hide yourself away somewhere when people come round that you just don't want to see; and Bilbo has been nothing but amazing to me for as long as I can remember, even going so far as to adopt me after my father died; it's the rest of the Shire I try my best to avoid. So that's why the forest is my favorite place in my extremely small world. It is my escape from the drama and hassle of everyday life; and sometimes, even if it's only for a few hours, I can pretend that I'm normal. That I can do anything. That I belong.

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My father had fled a terrible situation when I was very, very young. I had been born in another land, and he always spoke to me of the mountains near the place he had met my mother. There had been magnificent lakes and rivers, and sunrises that set the sky on fire. At night the stars were so bright and beautiful you would feel like you could just reach out and pluck on from the sky like an apple. But he never told me where this amazing place was. I had no name for my homeland; so I had no way of returning to whatever family I might have left. Nor did I know what we had left behind; or what could still be out there, angry for what had happened.

I gathered that whatever it was it must have been awful, because my father was a man of action, a warrior. This place could have only served one purpose for him. A cage. He had brought me to the Shire to keep me safe, and though he spent a lot of time traveling and doing things he never spoke to me about, he always made sure I knew that he cared for me; and he always brought me back gifts from all the places he went. Bilbo's parents had been there for me even before he was born, they were like my second family, and they made those long months without my father less painful.

My mother had died in childbirth; at least that it what I had always been told. And though I had no memory of her, there was always this empty part of me where she was supposed to be; memories we never got to make, her smile, her laugh, her face, her name. All these things were a mystery to me; my father could never really talked about her simply because it was much to painful for him to remember all that he had lost. My father had loved her more than anything else in the universe, so he never remarried; meaning for my entire life it had always been just he and I. Though Bungo and Belladonna had been like family to me. They were people I could really confide in, and they loved me like I was their own daughter; and they continued to do so right up until their deaths. I will always be grateful for everything they did for me. I cannot say the same for anyone else in the Shire.

I'm not a Hobbit, you only had to look at me for a fraction of a second to see that. My mother had been human and my father a dwarf. I was an outcast growing up simply because I had always been taller than everyone else. I couldn't walk in the market without every pair of eyes fixed on me, watching my every move as though I were a bomb that could detonate at any moment. Their conversations would stop and the whispers would start the moment I turned my back; they knew nothing more about me than I did (which was still nothing) but they liked to act like they did