(Rewatching the hobbit for this and the stone giant did a fancy ass move like god he ducked under a punch and then gave his bro an uppercut like I didn't know they could stand on business like that also can't believe Bilbo is a bro like that like he's doing it because they don't have a home like what a cutie patootie he even saved his shitty boss like damn anyway yea.
With that out the way here is info; so how his perk gaining will work is that i'll give him new ones based on a milestone system and reroll till he's got like 10 and reroll ones that require prerequisite perks and shit ones of course until he has a good amount and eventually he'll go to another universe don't know when tho since either till the end of the hobbit or till the later movies but thats a fuck while in universe tho so maybe he'll leave and come back? not sure also this has no planning im just making shit up on the spot through my muse powering me, also some vague thoughts but ye here is chap 3)
It had been a couple of days since I'd been foisted onto Bilbo, and so far… things were going great.
I'd noticed a few oddities, though. For one, I was younger — or at least I felt like I should've been older. I could've sworn I'd had a bit of a beard before. Now? I looked about nineteen, maybe twenty at most. Weird, but not the worst thing, all things considered.
With my newfound Qi and a general strength that far outpaced the local Hobbits, I'd started doing odd jobs around the Shire. Lifting crates, moving furniture — simple stuff that helped me blend in. But the real surprise came with gardening.
I'd taken to it almost by accident, mostly as a way to practice with my Qi. It helped me focus. When I poured energy into the soil, I could feel the plants respond — slowly at first, but then more eagerly. I coaxed them to grow stronger, taller, healthier. Not just faster, but better.
And when they grew, they changed. My Qi left a mark on them.
The flowers shimmered faintly, like golden veins ran through their stems and leaves. At night, under the soft light of the stars, they seemed to glow — not brightly, but gently, like embers or tiny constellations nestled in the earth.
Bilbo had been surprised at first, not alarmed but delighted. And when we shared a smoke in the evenings, we'd sit among those strange little plants, watching them shimmer in the dark like the garden itself was breathing with magic.
In return for his hospitality, I tended Bilbo's yard until it became — without question — the finest garden in the entire Shire. A small way to repay him, but one he accepted with a smile.
Around the Shire, word had spread fast. Plenty of Hobbits were paying me in silver pennies for my work, especially once they saw what I could do with a garden. That was what I used to pay Bilbo these days for letting me stay — which he only accepted after a good bit of convincing on my part.
I'd even started a personal garden of my own, tucked just behind the hill. It wasn't big yet, but it was growing steadily — filled with Qi-enhanced vegetables and, most importantly, my pride and joy: Qi-enhanced pipe weed. It hadn't fully ripened yet, but when it did... me and Bilbo were going to have a very fine month.
Still, gardening wasn't the only way I was training with my Qi.
I'd been practicing its more physical aspects too. For example, I could now light my pipe with just my hand. It wasn't exactly fire, not in the traditional sense — but it had the properties of it. Enough to light dried leaves, kindling, and of course, pipe weed. Heavier stuff like wood or pinecones took more focus and effort, but I could still make it work. The realization that I could channel raw energy like that — through my body — was both exhilarating and just a little terrifying.
But not all discoveries were thrilling.
One thing I'd learned, which felt obvious in hindsight but still hit like a splash of cold water, was that I had limits.
I imagined it like this: my body was Qi. It was what powered me — my essence, my life. But beyond that, I had a kind of internal pool, a reservoir of Qi I could draw from to actively do things — lighting fire, enhancing my strength, healing quicker, accelerating plant growth. That pool didn't seem to have a fixed size; I hadn't felt it hit full yet. But it did empty. And once it got low, I felt it — like being winded or trying to run through knee-deep water.
Thankfully, I wasn't stuck with just what was inside me. I could also draw Qi from the world around me.
I called it "Earth Qi" — the natural energy from the ground beneath my feet. I could channel it into plants and organic material, which made them more vibrant, more alive. At first, it was just a neat trick, helping flowers bloom faster or making vegetables swell with flavour. But then the plants started reacting to me — shifting slightly when I walked by, leaning into my touch, and even adjusting their positions to make harvesting easier.
Which… yeah. That was a little concerning.
But I mean, people talk to plants, right? Some even say the trees listen back. Maybe this is normal. Maybe.
Still… if my garden ever starts talking back, that's going to be future-me's problem.
But to be honest, after my short stay here, I was feeling content. Which felt like something I shouldn't be feeling. I knew I had years to prepare for the inevitable journey to Erebor — and even after that, the battle against the Dark One. But that was far off in the future.
Right now, I was comfortable. At peace.
Evenings spent smoking with Bilbo, helping around the Shire, watching the stars… there was something about this place. The air, the people — the Hobbits themselves — gave off an atmosphere that calmed me in a way I didn't expect. And now that my mind was quieter, now that I had work and a routine… it felt good. Safe.
Experimenting with my Qi helped too. It made every day feel like I was learning something new. Whenever I tried to interact with the Qi around me, it felt like speaking to something — or someone — who spoke in music. Which, considering this was Middle-earth, made a strange kind of sense. I hadn't fully unraveled that part yet, but I would. Eventually.
I leaned back into the bench and took another long puff from the pipe I'd bought at the market. The Shire stretched out before me, glowing gently in the moonlight — not from lamps or lanterns, but from the plants I had enhanced with Qi. They shimmered softly at night, like golden fireflies nestled among leaves. Not blinding, not unnatural. Just… comforting.
Then it happened.
Something stirred.
My soul expanded — I felt it ripple, like a book opening after centuries sealed shut. Something knocked against the cover… and was let in.
A whisper echoed in my mind — but it wasn't a voice, not really. More like knowledge, compressed into a beam of white-hot awareness that poured into my soul like liquid fire. My breath caught in my throat. This wasn't Qi. This was something else.
Alchemy.
I knew that's what it was, even though I had never studied it, never practiced it. But now? Now I understood. Like someone had torn the veil off a forgotten part of my being. I saw ritual circles in my mind's eye — ancient arrays of silver and chalk, swirling with lines that pulsed with intention. I saw elements, raw and obedient: fire, water, air, earth. Not symbols, but real forces waiting to be commanded.
I felt how mana could be crystallized, purified. How a soul could be mapped, dissected, healed — or transmuted. I understood the theory behind the Philosopher's Stone, not as myth, but as a project. A challenge. A goal.
This wasn't just knowledge. It was mastery. I could feel it.
Not just theoretical understanding, but instinctive, refined ability — as if I had studied this for centuries under stars long dead, in towers long forgotten. My spells — my alchemy — would be faster, cheaper, stronger. I could combine it with my Qi, I realized. Qi was just another form of vital energy. Alchemy could transmute it, shape it, evolve it.
Even immortality... something at the edge of my awareness hinted at it. A path — hidden, dangerous.
I blinked, heart pounding. My pipe had gone out.
For a long moment, I just sat there, letting the new weight of knowledge settle into me. I was still Thomas. Still a guy out of his element, dropped into a world of myths and legends.
But now… I was an alchemist a man who could change the world for the better.