Chapter Seven: A Strange Magic

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Priscilla looked to Bilbo, who was now looking at his toes, trying not to make eye contact with her. "Bilbo?"

"I, ah..." Bilbo hesitated. Gandalf stared him down until he began to speak again. "There's something I probably should have told you a long time ago. I never thought it would be, er... significant, really."

Priscilla frowned. "What wouldn't be significant, exactly?" 

Bilbo let out a deep sigh. "Well, for starters, we're only half-siblings." He said simply. 

She just stared at him. A bird chirped nearby, and the dwarves around them continued in their own conversations and activities, a low mumble around them. Bilbo finally spoke again.

"And uh, I didn't fully believe this myself til just now, but... mother didn't exactly have you with another... hobbit." He said, very quickly, as if it were easiest just to spit it out and be done with it. 

"And this wasn't significant how?" Priscilla said, shocked. 

"I never thought you'd need to know it unless we, uh... left the Shire." Bilbo said the last part under his breath, realizing his mistake. 

Priscilla gestured at the wooded area around them frantically. "We're in the Trollshaws.

"Yes, I realize that." Bilbo said, still not making eye contact with her. 

Gandalf cleared his throat. "It would seem that your father, Priscilla, was one of the Fae." 

"The what?" Kili interrupted. 

"The Fae were- and perhaps still are- a magical race that lived here in Middle Earth in the First Age. They had various magical abilities, relating to nature for the most part, and could alter their appearance if they so chose." Gandalf explained. "Over the years their numbers have dwindled, and they may have even died out by now, except for Priscilla here."

"The Fae were just stories, Gandalf. You don't really mean-" She started to interject. 

"I am being completely serious, Miss Baggins. That's why your eyes never seem to choose any one color, and your ears have always been pointier than any other hobbit's you've seen." Gandalf said, matter-of-factly. "And had I known this, I would have insisted that you stay home." 

"And why's that?" She asked, aggravated that he would still think that about her. 

"That ring on your finger is no ordinary ring." Gandalf said, quietly. "Nor is that box any ordinary box. Only the magic of the Fae can open or use either of them." 

"So you're saying I..." She trailed off.

"The Fae themselves needed no help from any tangible object to use their powers. Since you're only half blooded, it would appear that you can use their objects, but not their magic without the objects. In other words, without that ring, you're just an ordinary hobbit." Gandalf said. It was coming together now.

"And with the ring?" She glanced at it, still glowing.

"I don't know for sure." Gandalf took a breath, contemplating. "My guess would be that you need training and practice to use it for longer periods of time and for bigger acts of magic. Beyond that... I cannot say. We would need to ask someone of higher knowledge of the Fae. Perhaps Lord Elrond, in Rivendell, or Lady Lorien. Many believe they were only stories, as you said, and I have not done much reading on them as they weren't written about in many instances."

"So why would you have kept her home had you known?" Kili asked, frowning.

"I mentioned they had all but died out. That's because they were killed off. Where there is good, there also lies evil... and their magic seemed to attract danger. Perhaps that was why we found that box in the troll hoard." Gandalf continued. "None of their homes or objects have survived to this day, and if they have, it's little rare things like this box. They were a small people to begin with."

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