A/N: I hope you enjoy this first chapter. I'm not new to writing fanfic, but Tolkien fanfic is quite new to me, so go gentle! Constructive criticism would be very handy! If you want updates or want to ask questions about this story you can check out my tumblr: roseblackout :) Enjoy!
"Shit!" Arabelle cried as soon as she woke up. Realising she was no longer on the footpath, she took a glance at her surroundings and wondered whereabouts she was. Sitting up slowly, she ran her fingers through her brunette hair, feeling for a bump. It hurt and she couldn't really remember why. The teenage girl stood up, dusted herself off and took another look around. It didn't seem like the countryside of the Midlands that she was used to, but it had an air of familiarity to it. Feeling slightly dazed, she searched around her for the footpath, hoping to get back to somewhere she knew.
After finding no evidence of the path, she took off her backpack to get her phone out. She unlocked it and found it had no signal. Typical, she thought. Looking up from her now seemingly useless phone, she noticed somebody approaching in the distance.
"Hello," she called. "Can you tell me where I am?" The being in question looked startled by the girl's appearance.
"Well, my dear woman, you are in The Shire!" He replied as he made his way over to her.
"I'm – What? That's got to be a mistake." Arabelle's face paled. This had not been the plan when she'd woken up that morning.
"No mistake at all! Are you alright there? You seem a bit stricken." The fellow looked up at her with concern written on his face, the surprise now definitely faded.
"I'm – I'm fine. Thanks. Did you say The Shire?" She said in disbelief. She took a good look at the person in front of her, noting his small stature and curly hair. Please tell me that this is nota Hobbit, she began to question her mentality.
"Yes, my dear. You are not far from Hobbiton! You really don't look too well though, are you sure you are okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Is it much further?" She hoped it wasn't, the throbbing pain of her head was still present and she definitely didn't want to pass out in front of the Hobbit.
"You are just a few minutes walk away, half an hour at the least. Your legs are long enough to carry you there," He smiled at her, a genuine smile that she would not forget. "You just go over that bridge there and you will arrive in the town."
"Thank you," She returned gratefully. "My name is Arabelle Turner and the easiest way to put it is that I'm lost. I don't think I'm meant to be here, actually."
"A pleasure to meet you Miss Turner! I am sure if you have ended up here, then you are meant to be here. My name is Billy Rumple. If I can ever be of help to you, just come by this here field and I will be sure to answer!"
With that, Billy left her to her thoughts. Arabelle sighed and moved towards the bridge, hoping beyond hope she'd managed to land in The Shire on a day when Gandalf would be present.
Walking over the bridge as the evening sun shone its last rays beautifully on the green grass felt completely surreal. That must have been some knock to the head. The Hobbits milling around her filled her heart with joy and disbelief. As she continued on, she noticed a large tree in the middle of a small meadow. Recognising it to be the party tree from The Lord of the Rings she stood still and took a deep breath. Come on Arabelle, you know Bag End isn't far from here, get a move on.
By the time she had reached the Hobbit-hole, the sun had well set and the lights coming from inside looked welcoming. Walking up to the door, she knocked as hard as her fist would allow.
"No, no!" Came from inside. "I am not having any more Dwarves entering my house!" She sniffed to herself, offended at the thought of being called a Dwarf. She may have been short in England, but that shouldn't class her as a Dwarf here.
"Please, sir," She put on her most desperate voice, thinking it might encourage the Hobbit to be gracious. "I've lost my way and I seek help." A groan on the other side and the sound of the lock being, well, unlocked put a grin on her face.
"Oh!" squeaked the Hobbit. "You are – Well, you are not the size of a Hobbit and you are certainly not a Dwarf. What are you?" The Hobbit then remembered his manners and ushered the girl in, not wanting her to catch a chill.
"My name is Arabelle Turner. I wish to speak to Gandalf, is he here?" Entering the Hobbit-hole confidently, she tried to restrain herself from looking around in awe, hardly believing she was actually there.
"Mine is Bilbo Baggins. Yes, yes, Gandalf is here. I'll show you to him," He led her into a rather cramped dining room, which instantly silenced at her entry. She gave an indignant huff and turned to the Grey Wizard. "Gandalf, this is Miss Arabelle Turner. She requested to see you."
"Well, well," Gandalf smiled softly. "What do we have here?"
"As Bilbo said. My name is Arabelle. I seem to have entered Middle Earth without meaning to and I'd like to get home." She felt the eyes of the Dwarves in front of her. This is not going to be easy, she thought to herself.
"Of course, my lady, but first I shall introduce you to those who are sat in front of you," The knowing glint in his eye suddenly made her feel uncomfortable. "Arabelle, I present to you Thorin Oakenshield and his company!" He made a grand gesture with his hands that was greeted with grunts of ignorance from the Dwarves. Arabelle shifted uncomfortably.
"I'm interrupting, aren't I?" A few of the Dwarves gave her a pointed look. "I'll excuse myself then." Huffing to herself she walked into what she supposed was the study and sat down in an armchair by the fire.