It had been about three weeks since she was dropped into the world of Middle-Earth. She was lucky enough to run into a gingerly hobbit, named Bilbo Baggins. He was kind enough to let her stay at his... hole, until she was able to find her way back home; wherever that may be. Heather was a sweet girl, who knew nothing about hobbits, gardening, and the finer art of making smoke rings with a tobacco pipe. She was, however, quiet crafty in the art of deception, and very knowledgable about first impressions.
She was able to keep up a difficult characterized person, whom suffered from amnesia and lost her way traveling through the plains of The Shire. Mr. Baggins welcomed her into his hole and continually asked her if her memory was returning; of course, it never was. He was even able to get her a job as a bartender and an aid for the local farm. She was able to maintain her amnesia state through her jobs and some of The Shire's get-togethers.
Heather wasn't ever tall, about 5 foot 2 inches. But that was just enough to be a head taller than the whole community.
One Tuesday morning, like routine, she brushed her hair into a tight ponytail, and grabbed a slice of bread and butter, before leaving for the farm.
"I really wish you would eat more before going," sighed the hobbit. "Eating a little more should help in your recovery"
"I can't," she explained, while tying her shoes, "There's no way I'd be able to eat as much as you want me to."
"But that's barely a meal at all! How can someone so tall eat so little, and still have some much life in her body?"
"I don't know, I guess I must have always ate like this." Heather took a huge bite of bread and stood up.
"Well," Mr. Baggins sighed, "will you at least come home early tomorrow for tea-time? I know Kio will allow you that much."
"I'll ask him when I get there." She called as she walked out the circle door. Heather ran down the stone trail, through the small gate, and down the road to the farm. On the way, she almost ran into a strange older man, with a large walking stick, and slightly faded robes, with a matching pointed hat. Heather shouted an apology, and continued on her way. She thought, just maybe, that that man gave her a strange look, but then again, she had given him one too. Only for the sole reason that he was the first person she has seen, a human, besides hobbits in the last 3 weeks.
Wednesday was like any other day, ran off to the farm in the morning, barely eaten anything all day, and then a calming walk back to the hole. It was dusk out when she left the farm, hopefully in time for tea. She never knew that "tea-time" existed outside of England, but a good change of pace should be a lovely time.
As she was making her way up to Mr. Baggins' hole, when she noticed a lot of obnoxious noise coming from one of the holes (she would never get used to having a hole for a home). Heather walked up to Mr. Baggins' door and found a strange marking, glowing green.
She thought nothing of it, yet hesitated to open the door because she heard many of voices, all cheering and having a good time. Was this tea-time?! Maybe this wasn't so bad. Heather thought.
She opened the circle door and walked in. To her surprise, there were multiple hoods hanging on the coat-racks. I knew Mr. Baggins was popular, but this is crazy! Heather shut the door and was hurriedly welcomed by Bilbo himself. He was sweaty and red-faced.
"Thank goodness you've come early!" He grabbed her wrist and brought her near the heart if the commotion. Heather was pushed into the doorway, which led to the dinner table. About a dozen of strange, bearded man were hungrily eating all of Mr. Baggins' food. "Maybe they know you from somewhere!"
Heather didn't know them, but the whole group of strange men stared at her; as if they haven't seen a girl in their life. They widened their eyes, and opened their mouths. "I don't think they know me," Heather muttered to Bilbo.
"Nonsense!" He shouted and forced Heather into the crowd of men. He completely left her to the unblinking eyes of the men, a few of them were muttering and poiting at her; obviously talking about her.
Sighing loudly, Heather stood awkwardly among the small mob of men. "So, what are your names?"
One by one, around the table, a man would stand up and introduce himself. Each would give his name and bow accordingly. It was 12 men with slightly similar names; there was Fili, Kili, Oin, Gloin, Dwalin, Balin, Bifur, Bofur, Bomfur, Dori, Nori, and Ori. And every single one of them, after stating their name, would say, "at your service!"
"And your name?" The one named Balin asked across the table.
"Oh! My name is Heather" she said, feeling almost obligated to say at your service after giving her name. She saw Bilbo running back into the kitchen with a handful of mugs. All of the men began speaking amongst each other while a few were trying to talk to Heather, but the majority of them weren't very good at talking to girls.
The night continued to go on, slowly getting darker; but the party wasn't getting any bit tired. Heather didn't know Mr. Baggins knew how to throw such a good party. Bilbo was running around for the majority of the night, trying to please all of the men in the room; which she eventually found out that they were dwarves, not hobbits. All of them eventually forgot Heather was ever there, so she was able to sneak away and hide in her room to catch her breath.
It wasn't long before Mr. Baggins found her. "Did any of them know you?" He asked, almost hopeful.
"No, but they did seem to enjoy my company, for a while."
"Well then," he sighed "don't worry. I will help you until you get your wits again. But, in the meantime, I am their host; and you are their hostess." He grabbed her again, and led her into the kitchen. "Start making more meat, these guys never stop eating!"
Heather let her hair down, and began making a stew for the dwarves (that was the only thing she really knew how to make in this hole). While the stew was boiling, Heather heard some footsteps coming up the stone steps. She saw Bilbo trying to refill the dwarves' drinks, again, so she ran to the door and opened it quickly, before the guest had enough time to knock.
Another dwarf, but a different dwarf. He seemed very strange, and almost like a ticking time-bomb, with a very short fuse. She quickly made a mental note to not piss him off. However, just like the others, he was astonished to see a female; Heather was used to his look and immediately introduced herself. "Hello, I am Heather." She was unaware that she had given a small bow. "Are you a member of the dwarf party?"
He met her bow, and answered, "Thorin Oakenshield, at your service." Heather was surprised how low he bowed, his beard had touched the ground. "As for the 'dwarf party,' I am their leader." Heather allowed him in, and was immediately scowled by Mr. Baggins, and told her to remain in the kitchen; she couldn't help but chuckle to herself.
After the dwarves had their full of food and drink, which seemed endless, Bilbo demanded Heather to wash the dishes; so the dwarves' "business" could be finished without distraction. Heather didn't blame him, all of the dwarves kept staring at her, with hungry eyes. She noticed that the elderly gentleman, that she almost into the day before, had somehow appeared and joined them in their business. Whatever it was, it involved Mr. Baggins.
Using her hair, she put a single earbud in her ear, and began to play quiet music from her ipod; to stop herself from listening in on their business.
At some point, she heard a loud THUD, and looked over her shoulder. Bilbo had fainted in the hallway, holding a long sheet of paper. Turning off her iPod, Heather hid the 3 feet of wire in her pocket and rushed over to him. The dwarves only gave a worried look at the hobbit, with a hint of shock.
"What happened?" She asked, feeling his forehead.
"He has fainted, my dear." Said the older man.
No shit, she wanted to say; but that wasn't lady-like. Instead she only gave the older man an expression that could be interpretated to read as "no shit," which caused him to smile courtly at her.
"I see that," she kept her voice sweet and concerned; remember, she is very crafty at deception. "But what caused him to faint?"
"Just talking about how Smaug would kill him," the one named Nori said, at least, she thought it was Nori.
"Who's Smaug?" She said, trying to get Mr. Baggins off of the floor.
Before Nori, or maybe Bifur, could explain, Thorin stood up and glared at him, "No one you need to worry yourself." Although he glared at Bifur, or Nori, he spoke definitely to Heather. "Ori, Balin, help lady Heather get Mr. Baggins to his room."
"No, it's okay," she said, before the two dwarves could get up. Thorin, and everyone watched as Heather used The Fireman's lift, to quickly pick up the limb Mr. Baggins (she had learned the trick from her father). Heather couldn't see their astonished faces, as she left the sight of the dwarves, and easily carried Bilbo into his room. She placed him gingerly on his soft bed, and removed the paper from his grasp. Curiosity got the better of her, as she found herself reading it. It was almost like a contract, for a journey; and he would get one-fourteenth of the share of all profit. A business trip?
She brought the paper back to the dwarves, unsure if it was theirs or his. They were all muttering amongst each other, about how they needed a burglar, and not a fainting hobbit. The older man, whom Heather found out his name was Gandalf, was trying to reassure them about his apparent decision for choosing Mr. Baggins. Heather let her curiosity slip again, and waited in the shadows, listening in.
"He will prove himself more than useful, before your journey is over," Gandalf's voice was very distinguishable apart from the dwarves.
"What about the lady?" One of them asked.
"She can manage on her own, while he is gone."
"No, I mean," inquired the same dwarf, that Heather had guessed was Balin, "What about we took the lady with?"
A small murmur of approval was being passed around the table. Where? Heather thought loudly in her head.
"Absolutely not," Thorin's deep voice loomed over the rest, consequently silencing them all. "I will not go out of my way to endanger a female. Besides, Gandalf said we would need a burglar for the journey; how do we know she can steal and sneak?"
"Why not ask her?" Gandalf said to the rest. Heather felt her heart sank into her feet, oh crap. I didn't think I was breathing that hard. "Come out my dear, I know you've been listening in." She stepped from her dark hiding place and met the gaze of all of them; Gandalf was the only one who gave her a reassuring smile, the others were surprised, again. "That answers one question: she can sneak."
"In the shadows," Thorin grumbled, "and in a small house. Anyone could do that."
"Why not give her a test?" Said the one bald one, with a long beard (maybe Dwalin?) "Have her try to sneak and steal something that one of us has?"
"I will not put a woman in danger," Thorin repeated, glaring at Dwalin. "I could not live with myself if she were to get hurt."
"Let's just humor your company and give her this little test," Gandalf said, after taking a quickly sip of drink. "No harm in testing her abilities." Thorin held the old man's gaze for a moment, while Heather felt her heart returning to her chest.
"What would be her treasure item?" Thorin reluctantly asked his large group of dwarves.
"How about," Gandalf panted at Thorin's thigh, "your smoke pipe?"
Smirking at the idea, Thorin agreed, with a little glare at Heather, as if tempting her to try to get that close to him. He reminded her of a big bear in the woods, Don't poke the bear, she humored herself. She returned his smirk and asked, "How long do I have to get it?"
"Until dawn," Thorin said, with an evil glare; as if already picturing her defeat.
"I accept." Heather smiled at the idea of her digging her hand down his pocket to get his tobacco pipe.
The majority of the dwarves fell asleep, after singing a song. Heather had been studying Thorin's movements in the shadows. He must of felt her heavy eyes on him, because he would grab his pipe in his pocket. She soon figured that he would purposely keep his hand in his pocket or extremely close to his side; he must had been very determined to not let her steal his pipe. She understood his paranoia, because she had swore to get that pipe.
Thorin didn't sleep that night, only went out once in a while, to smoke tobacco; Heather knew that he was only smoking so much to tease her. Right before dawn, Thorin was smoking again, and enjoying the beginning light of dawn. He kept making smoke rings, and smiling greatly; he must had felt pretty empowered since Heather hadn't gotten pipe.
She knew she didn't have the skill of invisibility, to walk right up and take the pipe; she almost admitted defeat. Until, she saw Thorin play with a chain around his neck. She then, formulated a crazy, desperate plan.
Heather easily sneaked behind him and unclasped his chain. Somehow, with shakey hands, she was able to gently drag the chain off of his neck and maneuvered his key under his chin. Heather began biting her lip, far more afraid of getting caught than failing. She was almost certain that he felt her rapid heartbeat near his back and her breath on his head, but, by an extreme amount of luck, she was able to slip the key from him.
Hiding the chain and key behind her back, she was careful to not make a noise. The rest of Thorin's tobacco must have gone out, because he put his pipe back into his pocket. She stepped away from the somehow terrifying dwarf, and hurried back to the circle door.
"Haven't seen you all night," Thorin said to Heather. Damnit, so close. "You are very light on your feet, I'll give you that." He walked to face her, as if already forgotten her face. "But, you have failed to retrieve my smoke pipe." Thorin patted his pocket, as if to outsmart her; although his smile was warming. "You will not be joining us-"
"Actually," Heather interrupted him, but gave a sweet smile, "I was hoping that I could trade something for your pipe."
"Trade?" Thorin smirked, "thieves don't trade for the goods they want."
"I know," Heather backed up, afraid of what he might do when she showed him his key, that was around his neck, "but I'm much more clever than you think."
"You might be light on your feet, but you cannot-" he stopped talking when she held up the chain, with the key on it. Again, she saw that he was astonished, but that quickly changed into a fit of anger. His warm, kindhearted smile faded into a slight frown, and his amused eyes changed into something Heather knew only to well from her parents. He reached for it, but she quickly moved her hand back, out of his reach. He glared at her, as if trying to send a message through his eyes into her's.
"I am also soft with my hands," Heather got up the courage to say, but soon regretted ever accepting the challenge of stealing his pipe. His gaze was piercing, and made her shutter. "This key, for your pipe" she offered him.
He was not amused in the least, "Give that back, you thief." He muttered, only he was beginning to draw his sword.
This scared Heather, because she wasn't sure if he was testing how fast she'll crack with a sword to her neck, or if he was really displeased with her. He held the sword to her throat and narrowed his eyes. "Hand that over."
"Only for the pipe," she whispered to him, trying to keep her cool.
"What about your life?" Thorin threatened. Heather held her breath, still afraid that Thorin would really kill her; over a simple key!
After a moment of receiving the death-glare, Heather broke his gaze by looking away. She knew he wouldn't be defeated that easily, so she gave in and handed his key and chain back. She kept her eyes away from him and shivered at his icy gaze. More awkward moments past before Thorin walked around her, back into the hobbit's hole.
Heather wasn't sure if that was good or not.
(I had forgotten to add a little part, but I will incorporate in to the next chapter; it will explain more about Heather and having an Ipod :D)
