This Fanfic is sort of a merger between at least two fanfiction plots which are collecting dust on my computer. So, I just thought that I will put it out there. This is a Hobbit, Merlin BBC and Robin Hood BBC Crossover.

It was dark late evening in autumn. Wafts of mist were hovering above the cold, wet ground. The nights had already become long, dark and chilly. Marian, fighting to stay awake on her black stallion, had just finished her round of visits to some of the farmers who had fallen ill. This year were unusually many ill suffering from the same affliction. This might have been due to the fact that there had been more ork raids than usual and even the wildlings became bolder. The gates to their small village would probably be closed at this time and she cursed under her breath. She should have taken the last farmer's offer to stay the night, but as she had seen how poor they had been, she had not wanted to take anything away from them, which they might need in the future. Maybe she could persuade the guards to open the gates for her temporarily as she did not want to spend the night in front of the village gates. Especially not now. Although she had endured worse, but this village had become some sort of home in the last few months for her. Just as she turned around a corner and the large wooden gate came into view she finally realized that there was a small crowd, which appeared to be weary travellers arguing with the guards. But they were rather short. Or was it just her imagination?

"All we want is some place to fill our stomachs and to rest for the night." One of them explained in a tone which indicated that he was not happy about being refused entry. As she rode closer she saw that these bearded men were shorter and much bulkier than man and their weapons shone brightly in the moon light, while their ponies were nervously scraping the floor with their small hooves. Dwarves! This was the first time that she saw dwarves!

"We are terribly sorry master dwarf." She heard one of the guards' drawl in an amused tone. "but we have our orders from our village elders. Nobody enters the gates after curfew."

Some of the other dwarves had turned towards her with their hands at their hilts, when they had heard her approach and visibly relaxed when they realized that she was a woman and obviously did not consider her a threat. Well, they were wrong, she could be a threat, but fortunately for her not many people knew this. And it was not common among these parts that women knew how to fight.

She ordered her black horse to halt and dismounted. "Good evening." She greeted the dwarves who eyed her suspiciously.

"Would be a better one if we had shelter for the night." One bald headed, tattooed dwarf grunted, and she smiled at that statement as she felt the same.

"Do you have any ill will against this village?" she enquired and addressed the dwarf who had shared words with the guard, looking him directly in his blue eyes.

He sighed, shook his head and answered: "No. Miss. We do not. We have been on the road for days and were looking forward to eating something better than our meagre rations and sleep in a bed for a change. But we have no ill will towards the village."

She could see in his eyes that the bearded dwarf was speaking the truth and nodded. "Alright then. I will see what I can do that you can rest within the village walls."

"We already tried everything, but they won't let us in." the dwarf answered clearly not believing her. More dwarves were grumbling in the background.

"Ah. All you need is leverage." She grinned sheepishly and stepped towards the gate. "Caleb Dume! You will open the gates, now!" she commanded addressing the first guard.

"Ah! Lady Marian. What a pleasure to see you in such fine company. But you know the rules. No one passes the gates after curfew. "she heard laughter of the other guards on the village wall. "Not even you."

.Alright." She grinned again. "You can leave us out here during the cold night, but rest assured that if you do that, then I will tell your wife whose babe your neighbour's wife is really carrying, that you lost all your money gambling with your fellow guardsmen, while she is working her arse off carrying your babes, while you are gallivanting after everything that moves."

She paused for effect. "Do you really want to incite her wrath? And that of the horned men, whose wives' honey you dabbed in? Do you really want me to take this to the village elders? What do you think they will do to you? Beat you? No. Castrate you, more likely." She could hear some of the dwarves snort in amusement.

Moments trickled by until she heard the hasty command:" Open the gates! Quickly!"

She laughed and happily turned towards the dwarves. "The tavern is straight ahead, in the middle of the village. You can't miss it. Just follow me." And with that she and the dwarves entered the dark village. She passed the dark alleys, dark wooden houses, where many family were already dreaming of probably an easier life. After a few minutes laughter, chatter and singing could be heard, which gradually became louder as they came closer to the tavern and she could feel the growing excitement of the dwarves, who trailed after her. She would probably fall into bed head first as soon as she came home.

She stopped in front of the lively tavern and addressed the dwarves again:"This is where our paths diverge. You can put your horses in there. The stables are well kept and Rosie, the innkeeper will provide the best meal for you, but I have to ask you to stay out of trouble as I theoretically am vouching for you being in here now."

"You do not need to worry, Lady Marian, is it?" the dark-haired dwarf answered and bowed: "We are grateful for your aid at the gates."

You are welcome Master Dwarf." Marian answered. "It's not safe outside the walls with all those increased Ork raids and wildlings. Not even for noble dwarves such as you, although looking at your weapons I believe that you would have been more than capable to defend yourselves, Master dwa…

"Férin" he quickly answered, and Marian inclined her head. "Master Frérin. I beg you and your company a good night." They all nodded and saw her lead the horse over the big square which had a huge white oak in the middle.

Much later…

Sitting sated after a hearty meal and some strong ale, his companions' mood had lightened and even he felt more cheerful. But even though the tavern seemed to be the heart of the village, he had seen livelier places. He had heard about the more frequent ork raides in some other villages and he could not help but wonder if trouble was brewing. His brother Thorin, currently residing in the Blue Mountains needed to know. This meant that they could not delay their journey. And he was also looking forward to seeing his sister and his two young nephews again. Like his brother he had worked hard to help his people get more comfortable again, after they had lost their mountain. They had lost their grandfather and their father in the same battle and even he had a short brush with death on that day, but fortunately Oin had been able to heal him.

But he wondered what the young lady, which had helped them gain entry to the village had been doing outside at this hour. Didn't she have a family worrying about her? Especially as everyone knew about the swarming Ork packs? She seemed different than the other women of the race of men and black stallion was an expensive one. He had shoed many horses and knew that that one was a fine specimen. And what had also surprised him were her weapons. She had been armoured to the teeth. A broadsword strapped to her side, another one on her back, two hilts of daggers had been barely visible at the edges of her boots and one had been in her semi-braided hair. When he thought back on it he had never seen any woman of the race of men wear that much weapons or weapons at all. They mostly let the men handle the defence. Dwarven women were able to fight. Fiercely so, but not humans. The way she moved was rather elegant. Not scarily elegant like elves, but elegant with a slight swagger. And he had enjoyed her pressuring the guardsman. She seemed like a mystery and he had overheard some jokes about this particular woman, when they had entered the tavern and told the matron that they would need beds for the night. People had stopped their conversation, clearly knowing that the guards must have opened the gates for them. They had joked about the hidden power of persuasion of the young woman, but it seemed that she was just as much a mystery to them as she was to him. But a few patrons had come to her defence as she had helped them.

But who was this woman?

After putting Kilgharrah, her trusted black stallion in the stables and giving him a good rub, she finally entered the small house where she lived with the healer's family. She felt hungry but decided that it could wait till the morning or she would wake up the family. When she finally lay down on her small, hard cot her eyes fluttered closed, but she could not get her first encounter in Middle Earth out of her head. She had always heard that dwarves were supposedly hideous and rude, yet this group had been pleasantly friendly, and their leader had not looked repugnant at all. The taller bald and tattooed dwarf with his two axes strapped to his back had looked more like the descriptions of the hardened warriors. She remembered that she had only seen dwarves in Knighton once, when they had come and offered their services as blacksmiths. Her father, although normally being a very open person, had not trusted them. But luckily, she had been able to persuade him to give them work as she had wanted to know more about them. Many of the lances, weapons and hinches, they had forged back then was still in use today as their craftsmanship was unparalleled. One of the dwarves, which had worked for them had gifted her with a small necklace made from the metal residue from the forging. She still had it with her and she remembered him vividly. He had not been much taller than her, grey hair, big nose and a long grey beard. In the evening, when the dwarves had gathered around a small fire, he had told her tales of his lost home Erebor until her mother had spirited her away from the dwarves and ushered her to bed. Life had been so simple back then. Her father had been the Sherriff of Nottingham, the shire had been thriving and she had not to worry about feeding, defending or healing her people. No, with the cursed king Richard Lionheart, who seemed to care more about "defending" their holy city, than his own people, this Kingdom was doomed. She only regretted that she had blindly defended and fought in the name of her king at home after Vazey had taken over. That had been even before her former fiancé Robin had returned. She knew that had Guy of Gisborne not intervened at her behalf, then she would be dead. But she now was an Outlaw, which was the reason why she had not been able to stay with her ailing father. And she missed his advice dearly. She had brought this hardship over him at his old age. Why had she not heeded his warning and stopped helping the people? But she had not been able to stand by and watch as the villagers were starving and dying because of the new Sherriff.

The only dwarves offering their services were the dwarves from Erebor as those had been forced to flee from their homes, she knew. Were the dwarves, currently in the village also from Erebor?